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 ">v /v/.<j 
 
 
 
 
iuT 
 
 GENERAL HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN RELIGION AND CHURCH: 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 
 
 DR. AUGUSTUS NEANDER, 
 
 BY 
 
 JOSEPH TORREY. 
 
 TROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOFHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT. 
 
 NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED. 
 
 BY THE REV. A. J. W. MORRISON, B. A., 
 
 TR1N. COLL. CAMB., HEAD MASTER OF TRURO GRAMMAR SCHOOL. 
 
 ** My kingdom is not of this world.” “ The kingdom of heaven is like unto 
 leaven. "—JFords of our Lord. 
 
 “ The Lord is that Spirit: and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is 
 liberty .”—/Kurds of the Apostle Paul. 
 
 “ En Jesus Christ toutes les contradictions sont accordces.”— Pascal. 
 
 VOLUME FIRST 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1853. 
 
( iii ) 
 
 * 
 
 TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE. 
 
 Tjie translator deems it proper to state, that his labours on 
 Neander began, and were prosecuted to the completion of 
 several successive volumes or parts of the present work, many 
 years ago—though not before a partial translation of the same 
 work had already appeared in England. 
 
 He has certainly no reason to regret, but rather much 
 reason to congratulate himself, that his first translation did not 
 find its way to the press. In 1843 Dr. Neander sent forth 
 a second edition of the first volume of his work, embracing: the 
 history of the church in the first three centuries. In this new 
 edition the alterations are numerous and important. The 
 great features of the original work, its method and spirit, are 
 indeed faithfully preserved ; but, in other respects, there are 
 very decided improvements. 
 
 These important changes, occurring not here and there, 
 but through entire pages anci paragraphs, have made it neces¬ 
 sary to translate nearly the whole of the first volume anew. 
 The translator has submitted to this labour with the more 
 cheerfulness, as it enables him to present the work to the 
 English reader in the form in which Dr. Neander has been 
 pleased to express his wish that it should appear. 
 
 It has been, throughout, the translator’s aim and effort to 
 render a faithful version of the original. He has never felt 
 himself at liberty, on any account whatever, to add anything 
 to the text, or to omit anything from it. He has never 
 resorted to notes for the purpose of explaining anything which 
 could be made sufficiently plain in the place where it stood. 
 On the extreme difficulty of giving an exact transcript in 
 
 a 2 
 
IV 
 
 translator’s preface. 
 
 English of an author’s language, so exceedingly idiomatic, so 
 thoroughly German in all his habits of thought and modes of 
 expression as the author of this History, he need not enlaige. 
 If allowance be made for the slight but necessary modifi¬ 
 cations which for this reason have sometimes been resorted to, 
 the translator believes it will be found, that as he has clearly 
 conceived his author’s meaning, so he has faithfully expressed 
 it in some form of English that can be understood. 
 
 In conclusion, he would take this occasion to express his 
 grateful acknowledgments to all those friends who have en¬ 
 couraged and assisted him in the execution of his task; and in 
 a very particular manner to the Rev. Joseph Tracy, whose 
 consent to overlook the proof-sheets before they came under 
 the translator’s final revision was an act of real kindness, 
 which will not by him be very easily forgotten 
 
( v ) 
 
 DEDICATION OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 TO F. YON SCHELLING, THE PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 As the first volume of my Church History is about to make its 
 appearance in a better shape, I feel constrained to take this oppor¬ 
 tunity of presenting you a testimony of my sincere respect and love, 
 and my hearty thanks for all the instruction and excitement to 
 thought derived from what you have said, both publicly and in the 
 intercourse of private life, and for all you have done, during your 
 residence here, in the service of our common holy cause. When 1 
 dedicate a work of this character to a philosopher like you, I know 
 that it is nothing foreign from your philosophy ; for that takes 
 history for its point of departure, and would teach us to understand 
 it according to its inward essence. In striving to apprehend the 
 history of the church, not as a mere juxtaposition of outward facts, 
 but as a development proceeding from within, and presenting an 
 image and reflex of internal history, I trust that I am serving a 
 spirit which may claim some relationship to your philosophy, 
 however feeble the powers with which it may be done. In what 
 you publicly expressed respecting the stadia in the development of the 
 Christian church, how much there was which struck in harmony 
 with my own views ! I might feel some hesitation in laying before 
 a man of your classical attainments, such a master of form as well 
 as of matter, a work of whose defects, when compared with the idea 
 at its foundation, no one can be more conscious than its author. 
 But I know, too, that fellowship of spirit and feeling will be 
 accounted of more worth by you than all else besides. 
 
 Bilisting, then, that you will accept this offering in the same 
 spirit with which it is presented, I conclude with the sincerest 
 wishes that a gracious God may long preserve you in health, and 
 the full enjoyment of your powers ; that he would make you wholly 
 our own, and long keep you in the midst of us, to awaken the epees 
 TeTepocpuTcvp in the minds of our beloved German youth ; to exert 
 your powerful influence against all debasement and crippling of the 
 intellect; to lead back those who are astray, from the unnatural 
 and the distorted to a healthful simplicity; to exhibit a pattern of 
 right method and of true freedom in science ; to testify of that 
 which constitutes the goal and central point of all history ; and—so 
 far as it comes within the province of science—to prepare the way for 
 that new, Christian age of the world, whose dawn already greets us 
 from afar ; that for such ends as these He would prolong the evening 
 of your life, and make it even more glorious than was its morning. 
 
 These are the sincere and fervent wishes of him who calls himself, 
 with his whole heart, Yours, 
 
 Berlin, July 11, 1842. 
 
 A. Neander. 
 
( Vi ) 
 
 £-_X i 
 
 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION 
 
 To exhibit the history of the Church of Christ, as a living witness 
 of the divine power of Christianity ; as a school of Christian experi¬ 
 ence ; a voice, sounding through the ages, of instruction, of doctrine, 
 and of reproof, for all who are disposed to listen ; this, from the 
 earliest period, has been the leading aim of my life and studies. 
 At the same time, I was always impressed with the magnitude of 
 the undertaking, and with the great difficulties which must attend 
 it, if so conducted as to answer the demands of science and of the 
 great practical want which I have mentioned ; tor both of these aie, 
 fn the present case, closely connected. Nothing hut what can stand 
 as truth before the scrutiny of genuine, unprejudiced science—of a 
 science which does not see through the glass of a particular philoso¬ 
 phical or dogmatic school,—can he profitable for instruction, doctrine, 
 and reproof” and wherever a science relating to the things of God and 
 their revelation and evolution among mankind has not become, by 
 mismanagement of human perversity, an insignificant caricature, 01 
 a lifeless skeleton, it must necessarily bear these fruits. Science 
 and life are here designed to iuter-penetrate each other, if life is not 
 to be exposed to the manifold contradictions of error, and science to 
 death and inanity. 
 
 Although I certainly felt the inward call to such an undertaking, 
 yet the sense of its weight and its responsibleness—especially at the 
 present time, which so much needs the liistoviciTti vitev Tixctcjistvam, 
 as a sure compass in the storm and tumult of events—has continu¬ 
 ally deterred me from attempting to realize the favourite idea which 
 so long floated before my mind. After several preliminary essays, 
 on works connected with church history, I was led by various 
 motives, personal and outward, to engage in a task which, if too 
 long delayed, might never be accomplished. 
 
 The immediate outward occasion was, that my respected publisher 
 invited me to prepare for the press a new edition of my work on the 
 Emperor Julian ; and, at the same time, a more full and ample 
 treatment of the subject, which in that -work had been only a frag¬ 
 ment. But in setting about this task, I found that the book, 
 according to the views which I then entertained, would have to 
 take an entirely new shape, and, if it came to anything, to be 
 wrought into a far more comprehensive whole. Thus was suggested 
 to me the thought of publishing, in the first place, the history of 
 the church in the three first centuries as the starting point of a 
 general Church History ; and the encouragement received from my 
 publisher confirmed me in the plan. 
 
TREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 vu 
 
 I here enter, then, npon the execution of this work, and present 
 to the public the first great division of the history of the church 
 during the three first centuries. The second division, if it please 
 God, shall follow by the next Easter fair. The history of the Apos¬ 
 tolic church as a whole, is, to my own mind, of so much importance, 
 that I could not prevail on myself to incorporate it immediately 
 with the present history. Hence, in this work, I have simply pre¬ 
 supposed it; and I reserve for a future opportunity the publication 
 of it, as a separate work by itself. 
 
 May He who is the fountain of all goodness and truth attend the 
 commencement of this work with His blessing, and grant me both 
 the ability and the right disposition to prosecute it' to the end. 
 
 To conclude, I offer my hearty thanks to all the friends who have 
 attended this work, in its transition through the press, with their 
 kind assistance ; and especially to my excellent friend, one of our 
 promising young theologians, (soon afterwards removed to a better 
 world,) the theological student Singer. To his assiduity and care, 
 accompanied with no small labour in correcting the proofs, the 
 appearance of this volume is greatly indebted. The indexes 
 referring to the matter of the work, which, it is hoped, will contri¬ 
 bute much to the reader’s convenience, are also due to the industry 
 of this valued and beloved friend. 
 
 A. Neander. 
 
 Berlin, October 18, 1825. 
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 First of all, I would thankfully acknowledge the Divine goodness 
 which has enabled me — beyond any expectations I could have 
 formed, when, seventeen years ago, I commenced the publication of 
 my Church History — to prosecute the work so far, and also to 
 recast the first volume of it in a better shape. The first edition 
 having been disposed of within a year, a re-impression of the text 
 and doubling the number of copies made it possible to defer the 
 preparation of a new edition for so long a period. For this I am 
 indebted to the prudent arrangement of my respected publisher ; 
 for had I undertaken to prepare a new edition at any earlier period, 
 it would hardly have been in my power to carry forward the work 
 so far as I have. Besides, owing to the long interval which has 
 elapsed, I had become almost a stranger to this portion ot it, in its 
 original form ; and hence the defects which demanded correction 
 could not fail to appear to me the more glaring. Many of the cor- 
 
vni 
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION'. 
 
 rections have been suggested by the remarks of friends and of ene¬ 
 mies ; and I trust I shall ever be glad to listen also to the latter, 
 when the truth speaks through them. 
 
 I must still hold fast to the same fundamental position in theo¬ 
 logy, and in the contemplation of history, which I held at the outset 
 of my undertaking. I must strenuously defend it, over against, and 
 in opposition to,.the same main tendencies which I then had to com¬ 
 bat. On many points, history, in the mean time, has already 
 decided. Nothing will remain hidden: principles must unfold 
 themselves, and bring out to the light the results which lie 'within 
 them. When this has been done, all the shifts are in vain by 
 which men would seek to reverse the decision of history, and 
 repeat over again the old trick of deception. 
 
 When, at the commencement of my labours, seventeen years ago, 
 I dedicated my work to the friend who was about to leave me, 
 Wilhelm Bohmer, —a young man whom I looked upon as the 
 representative of a whole class inspired wdtli the same disposition; 
 who has since, as a man, maintained his standing among the learned 
 theologians and teachers of the church, and with whom I have ever 
 remained bound by the same fellowship of spirit,—I affixed to it 
 the motto of out common theology, and of this exhibition of history : 
 “ Pectus est, quod theologum facit.” We need not be ashamed of 
 this maxim ; shame rather to those who were bold enough to ridi¬ 
 cule it. They have pronounced sentence on themselves. It was 
 the watchword of those .men who called forth theology from the 
 dead forms of scholasticism to the living spirit of God’s word. So 
 let this be our motto still, in despite of all starveling or over¬ 
 crammed Philisters, —of all the foolish men who wrap themselves 
 in the conceit of their own superior science, or who allow themselves 
 to be dazzled by such vain pretensions. 
 
 The first division of this work, in its present altered shape, will 
 occupy two volumes. The second volume, with the Divine per¬ 
 mission, will soon follow the present; and I hope, also, the con¬ 
 tinuation of the whole work will no longer be delayed. 
 
 A. Neander. 
 
 Berlin, July 11, 1S42. 
 
( ix ) 
 
 DEDICATION OF TIIE SECOND VOLUME. 
 
 TO MY BELOVED AND MUCH-HONOURED FRIEND, 
 
 DR. HEUBNER, 
 
 SUPERINTENDENT-GENERAL AT WITTENBERG, 
 
 THE THEOLOGUS NON GLORI2E SED CRUCIS. 
 
 When, last year, the noble festival was held in commemoration of 
 the twenty-fifth anniversary of your Theological Seminary, from 
 which, during that space of time, so rich a blessing has flowed to 
 the churches of this country, gladly would I have borne some part 
 or other in honour of this occasion, so interesting to my heart. It 
 was not my happiness to enjoy that privilege. I now come after 
 the feast, with a small offering, which assures you of my sincere 
 love and respect. There is also a jubilee-festival in commemoration 
 of our ancient friendship. It is now more than five and twenty 
 years since it was my happiness to make your acquaintance, in the 
 society of that man of God, who but a short time ago was called 
 home from the midst of us, Baron von Kottwitz, a man whose 
 memory thousands bless,—and from that time I have looked 
 towards you as to a point of light amid the darkness of this worldly 
 age. You will receive this tribute of my sincere esteem with indul¬ 
 gent good-will. If you find a good deal here, as in other writings 
 of mine, which does not accord with your own views of doctrine, 
 this, I am confident, cannot disturb your kind feelings. You under¬ 
 stand how to make subordinate differences recede and give place to 
 the higher fellowship grounded on that one foundation, which is 
 Christ. You are a disciple of the true spirit of love and freedom, 
 which, so far from insisting that everything shall be cast in the 
 same mould, maketh free. 
 
 God grant that you may be spared yet many years, as a blessing 
 to his church, which, in these times of encroaching darkness, needs 
 such witnesses above all things else. 
 
 YV ith all my heart, yours, 
 
 A. Neander. 
 
 Berlin , June 28, 1843. 
 

 
 ( ^ ) 
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND VOLUME. 
 
 The following is that part of the first hook of my Church History 
 which contains the history of doctrines. The active investigations 
 which have been going on, during the few years past, in this depart- 
 occasion, here especially, for the correction or more 
 ample proof of many things which I had advanced; and I am 
 rejoiced that the opportunity has been given me for making these 
 improvements. A tendency which aims at science and spirit 
 by referring everything to the head, could, most assuredly, never 
 find in me any thing blit an unfashionable opponent. 
 
 In conclusion, I present my hearty thanks to my friend, Hermann 
 Eossel, for the patient and skilful care which he has bestowed on 
 the correction of this volume, and in preparing the running-titles, 
 and the indexes at the end. 
 
 The two prefaces to the second and third volumes of the first edi¬ 
 tion I leave out for want of room. The third volume was dedicated 
 to the beloved mail with whom, as a colleague, I have since had the 
 pleasure of being permanently connected, and was meant as a salu¬ 
 tation of hearty love on the occasion of his then recent arrival on a 
 visit to this city, July 19th, 1827. 
 
 The guide to Church History, which I promised some time ago, 
 will now beyond all doubt be prepared by a very dear young friend 
 of mine, Hr. Lie. Jacobi, who has already made himself favourably 
 known by his essay on Pelagius, and from whom the best which 
 could be done may be expected. 
 
 A. Ne ANDRE. 
 
 Berlin, June 23, 1843. 
 
 
 l) £!««-> .« ** ■****-«? 
 
( xi ) 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 Memoir of the Author (compiled by A. R. Scobell) . . , page xxiii 
 
 HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION AND CHURCH IN THE 
 THREE FIRST CENTURIES. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 GENERAL RELIGIOUS CONDITION OF THE WORLD, ROMAN, GREEK, AND 
 JEWISH, AT THE TIME WHEN CHRISTIANITY FIRST APPEARED, AND 
 BEGAN TO MAKE PROGRESS, p. 1 — 94. 
 
 Page 
 
 Christianity a power transcending man’s nature ; but adapted to 
 the wants, and called for by the history, of the human race ; 
 as this period of its first appearance most especially shows 1—6 
 
 Religious Condition of the Roman , Greek, and Pagan World, 
 
 6—48. 
 
 Religion of the Greeks and Romans of transient significance, 
 and supplanted by the progress of culture. Not a religion 
 for mankind, but only a popular and state religion. Anti¬ 
 thesis of esoteric and exoteric. Superstition regarded by 
 Polybius the strongest pillar of the Roman state: so also by 
 Strabo. Varro’s distinction of a threefold theology . . 6—10 
 
 Total decline of religion. Epicureanism, scepticism : Lucretius, 
 
 Lucian. Isolated attempts to rescue the fundamental truths 
 of religion: Varro, Strabo. Doubt as to all religion : the 
 
 elder Pliny.10—15 
 
 The craving awakened after the religion of the earlier times. 
 Dissatisfaction with the present, and with the results of a 
 negative philosophy : Pausanias, Dionysius of Halicarnassus. 
 
 Artificial faith. Fanaticism. Superstition.15—18 
 
 Superstition. Infidelity. Plutarch on the relation between the 
 
 two.18—20 
 
 The more earnest tendencies of the period : Stoicism, Platonism. 
 
 Relation of the two to each other, and to the religious want 21—27 
 Eclecticism growing out of Platonism. Plutarch its represen¬ 
 tative .27—34 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 xii 
 
 The speculative mode ot apprehending religion as preparing the 
 -way for Monotheism. Idea of a simple Original Essence, of 
 the Neo-Platonic o v •••••*••••• 
 
 Representation of worship as sensuous imagery and accommoda¬ 
 tion. Defence, on this ground, of image-worship: Dio 
 Chrysostom. Apologetic doctrines concerning demons: 
 Plutarch, Porphyry. These artificial helps of no use to the 
 
 people. The aristocratic spirit. 
 
 Religious cravings excited by the attempts to defend and uphold 
 the declining religion. Enthusiasm. GoetcC: Alexaudei 
 
 of Abonoteichus, Apollonius of Tyana. 
 
 The Clementines.. • • * 
 
 Favourable or hostile relation of the state of religion as above 
 described to Christianity. 
 
 Page 
 
 3-1—37 
 
 37-40 
 
 41—43 
 
 44— 45 
 
 45— 4S 
 
 Religious Condition of the Jews, 48—94. 
 
 Judaism as a divine revelation. Want of accordance between 
 the divine subject-matter and its form of manifestation. 
 Hence Judaism only a preparatory step. Prophecy. Its 
 end and aim, and the ultimate end of the Jewish religion. 
 The idea of the Messiah . . . • • • • • 
 
 Conception of the Theocracy, and expectations of the Messiah be¬ 
 come sensuous. Judas of Gamala. Ihe Zealots. False 
 
 Prophets .. * 
 
 Three main directions of the Jewish theology : a dead and 
 formal orthodoxy, a superficial religion of the understanding, 
 and Mysticism, represented in the three sects of the Phari¬ 
 sees, Sadducees, and Essenes. 
 
 Alexandrian Judaism, 68—92. 
 
 Influence of pagan culture on the Jews of Alexandria. Dogmas 
 of a foreign philosophy combined with faith in a revelation. 
 Universal historical import of Judaism set forth by Philo . 68—73 
 Twofold purpose of the Alexandrian philosophy of religion ; to 
 ward off pagan infidelity, and Pharisaical bondage to the 
 letter. In opposition to the latter, the allegorical method ot 
 interpretation. Two different stages in the understanding of 
 revelation; faith in the letter and history, intuition of the 
 enveloped idea. Sons of the Logos, sons of the «». Distinc- 
 
 tion between esoteric and exoteric religion. 73 80 
 
 Ascetic tendency growing out of this Idealism. The Therapeutte 81 o5 
 Relation of the different religious tendencies among the Jews— 
 of Sadduceeism, Phariseeism, of Jewish Mysticism, of the 
 
 Alexandrian theology—to Christianity.86—92 
 
 Spread of Judaism among Greeks and Romans. Proselytes of 
 
 justice. Proselytes of the gate.92 94 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 Xlll 
 
 Paae 
 
 95—108 
 
 95— 97 
 
 88—104 
 
 108 
 
 SECTION FIRST. 
 
 RELATION OF TIIE CHRISTIAN CHURCH TO THE UNCHRISTIAN WORLD 
 
 95—247. 
 
 Spread of Christianity, 95—108. 
 
 Spread of Christianity generally. Obstacles which hindered 
 it. Causes and means by which it was advanced . . 
 
 Christianity, by readily uniting with every thing purely 
 human, and as readily attaching every form of ungodli¬ 
 ness, destined and suited, from the smallest beginnings, 
 
 to reform entire humanity. 
 
 Superstition of the lower classes of the people anion 11 the 
 pagans. Sorcerers hinder the entrance of Christianity. 
 Supernatural effects of Christianity, contrasted with the 
 
 arts of these men. 
 
 The devout, enthusiastic life of its confessors, a witness for 
 Christianity, and means of its spread. 104 - 
 
 Diffusion of Christianity in particular Districts, 108—118 
 
 Asia. The accounts in the New Testament. Legend about 
 the correspondence of Uchomo, Abgar of Edessa, with 
 Christ. More certain evidence of the spread of Chris¬ 
 tianity there, in the years ICO—-170. The gospel preached 
 in the Parthian empire by Peter. In Arabia perhaps by 
 Paul and Bartholomew. Later by Pantacnus and Origen. 
 
 In India, according to an old tradition, by Thomas . 
 
 Africa. Mark, according to the tradition, founder of the 
 church at Alexandria. Diffusion of the gospel from 
 thence to Cyrene. To Carthage and proconsular Africa, 
 
 from Rome. 
 
 Europe. First of all. Rome. Lugdunum, Vienne in Gaul’. 
 
 From thence to Germany. In Spain, probably by Paul. 
 
 In Britain, through the connections with Asia Minor 
 
 Persecutions of the Christian Church, US—217. 
 
 Their Causes, 118—12S. 
 
 Limits of Roman toleration. Grounded on a principle exclu¬ 
 sively political. Christianity a religio nova, iliicita. 
 
 Suspicion of political designs, favoured by the position 
 taken by the majority of Christians in relation to the 
 
 state and its institutions.I ^ g_ 
 
 Public opinion. Popular hatred.. 0 7 _ 12 s 
 
 Situation of the Christian Church under the sevei-al Emperors 
 
 128—217. ’ 
 
 Under Tiberius. Tertullian’s story of a proposal of the em- 
 
 peror to the senate in relation to Christ.128_129 
 
 Under Claudius. Christians confounded with the Jews; and 
 in consequence, banishment of the Christians in the year 
 53. Report of Suetonius., 1^9 
 
 109—114 
 
 116— 11S 
 
XIV 
 
 CONTEXTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 Page 
 
 130—131 
 
 132—133 
 133 — 134 
 
 134—139 
 
 139—143 
 
 Pre- 
 
 143 
 
 144—162 
 
 162—165 
 
 Law 
 
 165—168 
 
 Hero. Persecution of the Christians occasioned by the burning 
 
 of Rome .. * \ * . ' 
 
 Domitian. Encouragement of informers. Confiscation of goods. 
 
 Banishment. Trial of the kinsmen of Jesus • • • • 
 
 Nerva. Prohibition of informers . . • • • • • * 
 
 Trajan His law against close associations. Report ot l nny, 
 governor of Bithynia and Pontus, in the year 110. Less 
 favourable situation of the Christians ... • • • 
 
 Hadrian. Forbids riotous attacks. Complaints against them 
 by the Proconsul Serennius Granianus. Rescript ot 
 Hadrian to the latter’s successor, Fundanus. . Religious 
 views of Hadrian. Persecution of the Christians under 
 
 Barcochba.. * ; * • . * 
 
 Antoninus Pius. Disapprobation of popular attacks. 
 
 tended rescript Voo; ro x«/vov rr,; A trite; . 
 
 Marcus Aurelius. Hi's religious tendency. Sharper measures 
 ao-ainst the Christians. Persecution at Smyrna m 10/. 
 Martyrdom of Polycarp. Persecution in Gaul — Lugdu- 
 num, Vienne, Autun. Martyrdom of Potlnnus. Ex¬ 
 amples of Christian heroism. The legio fulmmea • • 
 
 Commodus. Reason of his milder behaviour towards the 
 
 Christians.. 
 
 Situation of the Christians during the political disturbances 
 after the death of Commodus. Septimus Severus. 
 forbidding Romans to embrace Christianity .. 
 
 Caracalla. Examples to show how the persecution was con- 
 
 ducted.. • • • • • ‘A 
 
 Tranquillity under Heliogabalus and Alexander seveius. 1 he 
 lararium of the latter. Collection of imperial rescripts 
 against the Christians by Domitius Ulpianus . 
 
 Popular attacks under Maximin the Thracian. Tranquillity 
 under Philip the Arabian. Story of the conversion ot this 
 Emperor to Christianity . • • _ * . • • • * * ' 
 
 Remarks of Origen concerning the situation, thus tar, ot the 
 Christian church, and its prospects in the future . . . . 
 
 Decius Trajan. Design of the Emperor to supplant Christ¬ 
 ianity entirely. Edict of persecution. Different conduct 
 of the Christians. Cyprian’s removal from Carthage. 
 Continuation of the persecution under Gallus and \ olu- 
 sianus. Martyrdom of the Roman bishops Cornelius and 
 
 Persecution under Valerian. Martyrdom of the bishops Sixtus 
 of Rome and Cyprian of Carthage . . • • • • • 1 
 
 The Christians under Gallienus and Macnanus. Decree ot 
 toleration by the former. Christianity a religio hcita. 
 Consequences of this even in the time ol Aurelian. r itty 
 
 years’ repose of the church.* 
 
 Dioclesian From 284 and onward, alone; then from 286 with 
 Maximian Herculius. At first favourable to the Christians. 
 His edict against the Manichseans. . Alarm of the pa.gans 
 at the increasing spread of the Christian religion. 
 
 173—174 
 
 174—176 
 
 176—179 
 
 180—189 
 
 194—197 
 
 Caius 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. i. 
 
 xv 
 
 Gaierius Maximian. His command, that all the soldiers 
 should take part in the sacrifices in the year 298. Mar¬ 
 tyrdom of the centurion Marcellus... 004 
 
 Meeting of Dioclesian with Gaierius at Nicomedia. Destruc¬ 
 tion of the Christian church there. Attempt to destroy 
 the copies of the holy scriptures. Examples illustrative 
 
 of this persecution. 204_ 014 
 
 Constantius Chlorus. Omsar in Spain, Gaul, Britain. ' His ~ 
 mddness towards the Christians. Maximin, elevated to 
 the rank of a Caesar, continues the persecution. In the 
 year 308 a new' command to offer sacrifice. Three years 
 later the edict of toleration by Gaierius.214_217 
 
 D > itten Altadis on Christianity, and the Apologies in 
 Defence of it, 217—247. 
 
 Erroneous judgments concerning Christftniity, arising out of 
 the form of its development and the singularity of its 
 whole appearance. Lucian. Confusion of Christianity 
 
 with vai ious kinds of superstition. His Peregrinus . . 217_ 001 
 
 Judgment of the stoic Arrian like that of Marcus Aurelius. 
 
 The most eminent antagonists from the school of Neo- 
 Platonism. Celsus. Inquiry relative to his person. His 
 Platonic Eclecticism. Importance of his attack entitled, 
 
 Coyos u.Xn9-vf. Its contents. 2 M_9,36 
 
 Porphyry the Phoenician, towards the close of the* third cen- ~ 
 tury; likewise a Platonician. His “ system of Theology 
 derived from the responses of Oracles,” rf U 
 (piXoo-nipicc,-. Oracular responses concerning Christ 
 Hierocles, governor of Bithynia, the last writer against Chris¬ 
 tianity Of this age. His book, X'oyo, <p,XaXj$' l; -roc; -rol; 
 
 Xpr-ntzvov;. Repetition of objections already made. Ca¬ 
 lumnies. Inclination of declining paganism to oppose 
 to the founder of the Christian religion the heroes of their 
 own. Account of the life of Apollonius by the rhetorician 
 
 Philostratus. 040—240 
 
 Christian apologists after the time of Hadrian. Twofold pur¬ 
 pose of the apologies. Relation of the Roman state to 
 them. _ Appeal of the apologists to the life of the 
 Christians. Reference to prophetic elements in pagan- 
 ism The Sibyllines. Tertullian’s appeal to testimony 
 ot the soul as Christian by nature.. 242 _247 
 
 236—240 
 
XVI 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 SECTION SECOND. 
 
 HtSTOHT « THE CHHHCH CO ^OH, C^CH mSCPUHE, *HH 
 SCHISMS, 24S—040. 
 
 History of the Church Constitution. 
 
 History of the Constitution of the Communities generally, 248-289.^ 
 
 Two pencils ,o i- 
 
 ceeding times . • 
 
 First Ground-work of the Constitution of the Christ, an 
 Communities in the Apostolic Ape, --to “ 
 
 i i r t-TictIi Priest—the end of the whole 
 Christ the one nnd only H gl priestly race. Common 
 
 priesthood. All Chnstia V Manifestation of one 
 participation of all i f :fts Different position of 
 
 Spirit in the several spiritual gilts. i _ 248—252 
 
 individuals according to these charismata ; • . t _ 
 
 The charisma of government, 
 
 also called 'nytntpwi, proiu-ws, v*‘<r . 253 _ 2 58 
 
 of bishops and presbyters equivalent • • ‘ Q ‘ f " 1 
 
 The charisma of teaching, ^Xnin'Srahon of government 258-2G1 
 the office of teaching to the admimstrat o b _ _ . 261 — 262 . 
 
 Office of the deacons . • • ■ ; - ’ . 262—263 
 
 Form of election to these church offices . . • 
 
 Changes in the Constitution of thefhmtim Church after 
 
 the Apostolic Age, 204 oO-. 
 
 ■ IK, in ihrpp noints:— a. Distinction intro- 
 Change more especially in thres pom d development 
 
 i -Z stt 
 
 '^Multiplication of church 
 continues nevertheless to be P^XffibvTe cimim- 
 
 this respect. Traces of the earlier equality 
 
 coaled S^IS'disaiW of 2C1 _ 26a 
 
 the episcopal system. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 XVII 
 
 h. Furtherance of the idea of a distinct sacerdotal caste by 
 this system. Development of this idea. The denomina¬ 
 tions Ordo, xxH^s, originally without reference to the 
 
 Levitical priesthood ..." . 
 
 Revolt of the Christian consciousness against the pretensions 
 
 of the sacerdotal order. 
 
 Change of the original relation between communities and 
 presbyters. Separation of the latter from the world. 
 
 Form of church elections. 
 
 c. Multiplication of church offices. Sub-deacons. Readers, 
 lectores, dvayvaprai. Acolytes. Exorcists. Door-keep¬ 
 ers, ttvXu^oI, ostiarii. 
 
 Page 
 
 268—272 
 2 / 3—27 4 
 
 274—279 
 
 279—280 
 
 Forms of Union between the several individual Communities 
 281—289. 
 
 In place of the gospel equality, subordination of some of the 
 communities to others. The country bishop under the 
 city bishop. The provincial city under the bishop of the 
 capital. Mother churches. Sedes Apostolicte : Rome, 
 
 Antioch, Alexandria, Ephesus, Corinth. 
 
 Rome the centre of the world, the mother church of almost 
 the entire West.—distinguished by the preaching and the 
 
 martyrdom of Peter and Paul. 
 
 Union between the communities by means of travellers. Ec¬ 
 clesiastical correspondence. Epistokc formate, yo^ara 
 Origin of synods. Advantages and disadvan¬ 
 tages of them.. 
 
 281—283 
 
 283—2S4 
 
 2S5—2S9 
 
 Union of the entire Church in one Body, closely connected in all its 
 pai ts; the Outward Unity of the Catholic Church and its 
 Representation, 289—302. 
 
 Unity of tlie church. Conception of the unity of the church 
 as an outward thing. Irenteus, Cyprian. Resistance to 
 it. Representation of this outward unity. Germ of the 
 
 medieval domination of the priesthood. 289_294 
 
 Preeminent rank of Peter. Gradual origin of the view that 
 
 Rome was the cathedra Petri. 294—‘-’gs 
 
 Arrogant claims of the Roman Bishops, as episcopi episco- 
 
 pomm. Resistance to it. Irenteus, Cyprian .... 298—302 
 
 Church Discipline. Exclusion from the Fellowship of the 
 v isible Church, and Terms of Re-admission, 302—308. 
 
 The Christian church in its not unalloyed manifestation. Ne¬ 
 cessity of church discipline, and of the exclusion of the 
 unworthy. Views of St. Paul. 
 
 The church as an institution for education. Church penance. 
 Readmission of the reformed. Church discipline becomes 
 outward and formal. 
 
 Controversy concerning the readmission of those who'had 
 fallen into mortal sins 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 307—308 
 
 b 
 
xvill 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 History of Church Divisions or Schisms, 308—345. 
 
 Distinction between church divisions and heresies. Further¬ 
 ance of the system of church unity by the two principal 
 schisms. 
 
 Page 
 
 308—309 
 
 The Schism of Felicissimus at Carthage, 309—327. 
 
 Cyprian. His conversion and nomination to the episcopate. 
 His position with respect to the Carthaginian comma- 
 
 nitics •••• »••••••• 
 
 Novatus. His appointment of Felicissimus to the office of 
 
 deacon. • ’ • • * * 
 
 Cyprian’s flight from Carthage. Question about the re-ad¬ 
 
 mission of the lapsed. Cyprian's decision. Hostility to 
 this by Cyprian’s adversaries, confirmed by the voice of 
 
 the confessors. * • • * * * 
 
 Cyprian opposed to the excessive veneration ot the contessors. 
 
 His undecided conduct on this point. Influence of the 
 Roman church on his way of proceeding ..... 
 Church visitation. Resistance of Felicissimus. New outbreak 
 
 of the controversy.. * 
 
 Synod of Carthage, A.D. 251. Removal of the schism, 
 attempts of the party. Cyprian’s letter 
 Pupianus. 
 
 to 
 
 309—312 
 
 312—314 
 
 314—319 
 
 319—322 
 
 323—325 
 
 Last 
 Florentius 
 
 326—330 
 
 Schism of Novatian in Rome, 330—345. 
 
 Novatian—his life and character.• • 
 
 Intermeddling of Novatus in the Roman controversy. Nova¬ 
 tian anti-bishop to Cornelius. Judgment of Dionysius of 
 Alexandria on the schism. Cyprian s position with rela¬ 
 tion to it.. • • • • • * ‘ • 
 
 The two points of dispute:—the nature of penance, and the 
 
 conception of the church. 
 
 a. Novatian’s principles on penance. Cyprian s arguments on 
 the other side. Their weakness . • • • • • • 
 
 l. Novatian’s conception of the purity of the church. Con¬ 
 taminated by toleration of the lapsed. Cyprian’s refuta¬ 
 tion. Fundamental error of both parties:—the confound¬ 
 ing together of the visible and the invisible , church. 
 Victory of the catholic church system as the fruit of the 
 schisms. 
 
 330—336 
 
 336—339 
 
 339—343 
 
 343—345 
 
CONTEXTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 -\!X 
 
 SECTION" THIRD. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE AND CHRISTIAN WORSHIP, 346—464. 
 
 Christian Life, 346—399. 
 
 • • '*e 
 
 Christianity a power for sanctification. Testimonies of the 
 
 church fathers. 34 g 
 
 Contrast of pagan and Christian life. Circumstances that 
 furthered and hindered the cultivation of the Christian 
 temper. Outward apprehension of Christianity—parti- 
 
 cuiariy of baptism . 348-352 
 
 Entrance of Christianity even into the sensuous representations 
 of men. Defects of the visible church. Point of view to 
 
 be taken in contemplating this primitive period . . . 350—353 
 
 Prominent virtues of the Christians. Christian brotherly love 
 
 _ and benevolence. 353—359 
 
 Position of Christianity in respect to the existing forms'and ° 
 relations of society., Collision between civil and religious 
 
 matters. Different views of the Christians on this point 359 _363 
 
 Occupations and trades which were forbidden. Penalty for 
 
 visiting any kind of public show... 379 
 
 Christianity in its relation to slavery.* 370—374 
 
 Different views respecting the propriety of taking any civil or " ' 
 military office. Arguments for and against Christians 
 
 enlisting in the military service.371 3-3 
 
 Christian life as judged of by the Pagans. Christian asceticism. 
 
 Resistance against extreme asceticism. The Shepherd of 
 Heimas. T is 0 a-u^ogivo; Kkovinos of Clement of Alex- 
 
 andiia.. 378_388 
 
 Christian life in the family. Marriage. Dress. Mixed mar- 
 
 riages. Church consecration of marriage. 388—39.3 
 
 I rayer the soul of the whole Christian life. Effects. Mode 
 of prayer. Times of prayer. Common prayer. Position 
 and gestures of the suppliant. 393—399 
 
 Of the Public Worship of God, 399—464. 
 
 Character of Christian Worship generally , 399 —401. 
 
 Spiritual worship of God in contradistinction to Judaism and 
 
 paganism. 399—401 
 
 Places of Assembling for Worship, 402—406. 
 
 First, private houses ; later, buildings erected for the purpose. 
 
 Rhurches. Originally no images. Hatred of art. Causes 
 ot it. Images in domestic life. Symbolic figures. Church 
 images. Sign of the cross. 402—406 
 
 Times of Assembling for Divine Worship and Festivals, 406—418. 
 limes consecrated to God. New view of Christianity on this 
 
 12 
 
XX 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. X. 
 
 point. Origin of festivals. Confounding together of the 
 Old and New Testament points of view . . 
 
 Weekly and annual festivals. Sunday. Dies stationum. 
 Sabbath. Fasts. Annual festivals. Feast of the pass- 
 over. Difference with regard to the celebration ot the 
 passover between Jewish and pagan Christians . 
 Disputes concerning the passover. Anicetus and Polycarp. 
 
 Renewal of the dispute. Victor and Polycrates ... 
 Quadragesimal fasts. Festival of Pentecost. Oiigin of the 
 Christmas festival. Feast of Epiphany. 
 
 Fa-e 
 
 406—407 
 
 408—411 
 
 411—415 
 
 415—41S 
 
 The several parts of Christian Worship , 418—422. 
 
 Edification by common hearing of the word and prayer. 
 Reading of the holy scriptures. Translations. Addresses. 
 Preaching. Church psalmody. Sacraments. Baptism 
 and the Lord’s Supper. 
 
 Of Baptism , 422—448. 
 
 Catechumens. Catechists. Confession of faith. Apostolic 
 confession of fuitli. Its signification. Oral tiachtion. 
 Formula of renunciation. Exorcism. Form of baptism. 
 Formula of baptism. Infant baptism. Its signification. 
 Tertulliau’s rejection of infant baptism. Doctrine of its 
 necessity. Cyprian. Origcn on this point. Baptismal 
 sponsors. Unction. Imposition of hands. Confirmation. 
 
 Fraternal kiss. 
 
 Controversies about baptism. 
 
 422—439 
 
 439—448 
 
 Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, 448—464. 
 
 Foundation. Signification of the Lord’s Supper. Original 
 celebration of it. Love feasts. Degeneration of them. 
 
 Severance of the Agapac from the celebration of the Lord’s 
 
 Supper. Comparison of the Supper with the pagan mys¬ 
 teries. Prayer of praise and thanksgiving, ilx^ruc- .. 448—4o, 
 Original idea of the thankoffering. False notion of sacri¬ 
 fice. Elements of the Lord’s Supper. Domestic partici¬ 
 pation and use of it. Communion of infants.. . • • 4o,—461 
 
 Union of the celebration of the Lord’s Supper with the cove¬ 
 nant of marriage and the celebrations in memory of the 
 dead. Feasts of the martyrs. Degeneration of honour 
 paid to the martyrs... 
 
CONTEXTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 SECTION FOURTH. 
 
 HISTORY OT CHRISTIANITY APPREHENDED AND DEVELOPED AS 
 OF DOCTRINES, 465—504. 
 
 General Introductory Remarks , 4G5—4G9. 
 
 Christianity considered as to its effects on thought and 
 knowledge. Different forms of the apprehension of 
 Christianity. The four fundamental forms. Origin and 
 signification of the heresies. 
 
 Heretical Tendencies , 469—504. 
 
 The two fundamental heresies. 
 
 Judaizing Sects, 471—504. 
 
 Origin of the Judaizing sects. The compromise or henoticon 
 of Jerusalem. Apostolic and heretical Jewish Christians. 
 Influence of the Jewish war. Gentile-Christian com¬ 
 munity at ./Elia Capitolina. 
 
 Ebionites. Their name. Epiphanius. Origen on its mean¬ 
 ing. Their doctrine. Different kinds. Nazaracans. 
 Gospel of the Nazaneans. Transition of Ebionitism to 
 other tendencies. 
 
 The Clementines. Supposition of a primeval religion. Doc¬ 
 trine of inspiration. Relation to Judaism and Christianity. 
 Relation to the Apostle Paul. Position of Judaism and 
 Christianity with regard to each other. Justin. Chiiiasm 
 
 xxi 
 
 A SYSTE31 
 
 Ha-e 
 
 465—4C9 
 
 409—471 
 
 471—476 
 
 476—487 
 
 4S8—504 
 

( XX111 ) 
 
 MEMOIR 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE AND WETTINGS OF DE. NEANDEE. 
 
 Johann August Wilhelm Neander was one of that circle 
 of illustrious names by which the nineteenth century has been 
 so forcibly reminded of the native majesty, the princely power 
 and splendour of the Hebrew intellect, when developed and 
 applied under right influences and towards worthy objects. 
 He was the son of very poor Jewish parents, and was born at 
 Gottingen on the 10th of January, 1789. The greater part 
 of his youth was spent in Hamburgh, where he studied at the 
 Gymnasium and the Johanneum. In 1806, when about seven¬ 
 teen years of age, having made a public profession of his ad¬ 
 herence to the Christian faith, and been baptized, he went to 
 Halle, and devoted himself to the study of theology, under 
 Schleiermacher, who was at that time professor there. He 
 finished his academical career at Gottingen, under the vene¬ 
 rable Planck ; and it was here that he was especially led to 
 those original investigations into the sources of Christian his¬ 
 tory, which constituted the great work of his life. After 
 completing his course, he returned to Hamburgh for a short 
 period. In 1811 he took up his residence at Heidelberg, as 
 a private tutor in the university there; and in 1812 he was 
 made extraordinary Professor of Theology. The same year, 
 however, he received and accepted a call to the newly-or¬ 
 ganized University of Berlin ; and there he remained until the 
 day of his death, his influence and reputation advancing year 
 by year, until they may be said to have extended over the 
 greater part of the Christian world. 
 
 His zeal in the discharge of his professorial duties at Berlin 
 was intense. He frequently gave, on a single day, three con- 
 
MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 secutive lectures upon different subjects. He passed from Ins¬ 
 tory to doctrine, from doctrine to morals, from morals to sacred 
 criticism or homiletics, apparently without fatigue or effort. 
 His comprehensive mind embraced the whole domain of theo¬ 
 logy, and in his treatment of every branch of this extensive 
 subject, he showed himself an erudite scholar, a good logician, 
 a profound and original thinker, and an eloquent orator. One 
 who knew him well thus writes of him:— 1 “ It can hardly be 
 necessary to expatiate on his merits in connection with that de¬ 
 partment of Theology which is commonly called Historical; 
 embracing all that relates to the History of the Christian life , 
 of Christian doctrine, and of the organization of both, in and 
 by the Church. His possession of a real genius for this class 
 of studies was made evident at an early period of his career. 
 His expositions of the New Testament are deservedly valued. 
 He seemed to possess that variety of mental endowment, and 
 that universality of sympathy, which enabled him to seize, 
 almost intuitively, the meaning of writers differing as widely 
 as Paul and James, as Peter and John. A greater difference 
 
 of opinion prevails as to the value of his Lectures on Doctrinal 
 (Systematic) Theology, comprising Dogmatics and Ethics. 
 Abstract scientific classification can hardly be said to have 
 been Neander’s forte. No man, perhaps, ever had a clearer 
 insight into the mutual relation of historic facts, into the real 
 worth and significance of historic phenomena: but his group¬ 
 ing and arrangement on the whole seem to be determined by 
 some inward and subjective, rather than by an objective and 
 universally recognizable principle. Perhaps the massiveness 
 and extent of the materials with which Neander was accus¬ 
 tomed to deal, may have something to do with the production 
 of the effect referred to. The results of his art are not Grecian 
 temples, so finished, so symmetrical, so faultless in design and 
 detail, that one can but sit down, as it were, and get them all 
 by heart; but vast, grand, glorious structures of a Titan, not 
 appealing strongly to the sense of beauty , because they express 
 a purity which we cannot comprehend,—yet having so much 
 of reality and of sublimity, that we cannot suggest a change 
 which would not spoil them; or labyrinths endless, in which 
 we feel that we are under the safe conduct of a trusty and ex¬ 
 perienced guide; or (and this perhaps most of all) faithful, 
 transparent reproductions of the living variety which meets us 
 
WRITINGS OF DR. NEANDER. 
 
 XXV 
 
 in actual history. Another reason for the absence of such a 
 roundness and finish as mark the productions of the expert 
 systematizer, may perhaps be traceable in that profound sense 
 of tiie fragmentariness of all human knowledge, that intel¬ 
 lectual modesty and humility by which Neander was so strongly 
 characterised, and which, existing as it did in conjunction with 
 talent and erudition, either of them alone almost sufficient to 
 make a great man, furnishes an emphatic reproof to such as 
 think that grandiloquence and assumption are the very essence 
 of an honourable standing and a high renown.”* 
 
 The personal character of Neander lias often been a theme 
 of praise; but we question whether any have said of it more 
 than the reality itself would have justified and confirmed. 
 Untiring industry, a sagacity, within certain limits almost 
 prophetic, a humble, ardent, life-pervading, rejoicing spirit of 
 godliness, child-like simplicity, self-denying benevolence, a 
 heart glowing and capacious enough for all the. requirements 
 of Christian friendship, but delighting especially to pour out 
 its rich treasures of instruction and of sympathy upon the re¬ 
 ceptive souls of the young—these were the chief and strongly 
 marked features of Neander’s character. Eccentric we must 
 admit him to have been, almost beyond the power of tongue 
 or pen or pencil to describe; but even this eccentricity was so 
 absolutely remote from anything like affectation,—so com¬ 
 pletely and manifestly a part of his individuality,—that after 
 the first impression of singularity had somewhat subsided, it 
 ceased to strike as being at all out of place, and in the minds 
 of all such as really knew the man, and that which was in 
 him, was certainly not associated with anything like disrespect 
 or ridicule. 
 
 Neander’s charity was unbounded. Poor students were not 
 only presented with tickets to his lectures, but were also often 
 provided by him with money and clothing. A very small 
 portion of his income as a professor went to supply his own 
 wants; it was nearly all given away for benevolent pur¬ 
 poses. The profits resulting from the sale of his writings were 
 bestowed upon Missionary, Bible, and other Societies, and 
 upon hospitals. Thoughts of himself never seemed to have 
 obtruded upon his mind. He would sometimes g'ive away to 
 
 Biblical Review, vol. vi., pp. 5G-7. tYe have altered the tense 
 throughout. 
 
XXVI 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 a poor student all the money he had about him at the moment, 
 and he has even been known frequently to bestow his new 
 clothes in charity, while he retained the old ones for himself. 
 At Berlin he was, if possible, less esteemed for his learning 
 than for his piety and benevolence. His students loved him 
 as a father, and he was indeed a father to them. He used to 
 assemble them once or twice a week in his house; and there 
 he conversed with them familiarly, encouraging one, advising 
 another, and distributing to all, with inexhaustible liberality, 
 the stores of wisdom and erudition that he had amassed. His 
 pleasure was to be with the young ; and when a student showed 
 uncommon aptitude for learning, he was always willing to 
 devote a portion of his leisure time to his instruction. It 
 would be difficult to decide whether the influence of his ex¬ 
 ample has not been as great as that of his writings upon the 
 thousands of young men who have been his pupils. Pro¬ 
 testants, Romanists, nearly all the leading preachers throughout 
 Germany, have attended his lectures, and all have been more 
 or less imbued with his ideas and teachings. 
 
 Neander’s love of Christianity was a living affection, dwell¬ 
 ing in the present as truly and as actively as in the past. His 
 faith remained firm and lively to the end. It was not a dry 
 rationalism; it was not a vague latitudinarianism. He be¬ 
 lieved profoundly in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, the Re¬ 
 deemer and Saviour of the world, the only true Mediator 
 between God and man. He admitted the supernatural facts 
 of the Gospel,—the incarnation, expiation, resurrection, and 
 ascension of Christ. But what distinguished him especially 
 was a heart full of love and devotedness to his divine Re¬ 
 deemer. Too often learning dries up the heart, and the ab¬ 
 stract speculations of theology stifle the warm emotions of the 
 soul. But in this respect the great Berlin professor afforded 
 a remarkable example. He was at once very learned and 
 very fervent; he combined with the highest endowments of 
 genius the simple faith of a child. His warm, generous heart, 
 constantly overflowing with feelings of love to all mankind, 
 saved him from those rocks against which so many of his most 
 eminent contemporaries in his own nation have been dashed. It 
 was a sad and singular sight to behold his former teacher 
 Schleiermacher, a Christian by birth, inculcating in one lecture- 
 room, with all the power of his mighty genius, those doctrines 
 
WHITINGS OF DR. NEANDER. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 which lead to the denial of the evangelical attributes of Jesus 
 Christ; whilst in another, his pupil Neander, by birth a Jew, 
 preached and taught salvation through faith in Christ, the Son 
 of God, alone. 
 
 Neander was never married, but lived with his maiden sister, 
 who watched over him with the most devoted affection. And 
 indeed lie stood in need of her constant vigilance; for he 
 understood nothing, absolutely nothing of the simplest business 
 of life, or of the commonest domestic affairs. So absorbed in 
 thought was he continually, and so utterly inattentive to what 
 was passing around him, that he would have forgotten to take 
 his meals, if he had not been conducted to table every day by 
 his sister. Although he had for years been in the habit of 
 going from his house to the university, he did not know the 
 way, and it was necessary for him to have some one to guide 
 him whenever he left his study to take a walk, or to go to his 
 lecture-room. Generally a student accompanied him to the 
 university, and just before it was time for his lecture to close, 
 his sister could always be seen on the opposite side of the street, 
 waiting to conduct him home. 
 
 Of his qualities as a lecturer the writer whom we have 
 already quoted speaks thus:—“ It may be necessary to inform 
 some of our readers, that though Neander was a doctor in theo¬ 
 logy, a superior councillor of consistory, and an examiner of 
 candidates for the ministry, he was what may be termed a lay 
 professor of theology. He never, I think, received ordination, 
 although entitled to demand it; he certainly never attempted 
 to preach. It was therefore only in the University lecture- 
 room on ordinary, and in the Aula on extraordinary occasions, 
 that an opportunity was presented of hearing him. The occu¬ 
 pation of the lecture-room seemed to have become a necessary 
 part of his daily life. The room which lie occupied was the 
 largest auditorium in the University, having seats, with desks, 
 for about three hundred hearers. Here he lectured, usually, 
 twice or thrice every day for three quarters of an hour at a 
 time, with intervals of a quarter of an hour between. No one 
 who saw and heard him thus engaged for the first time is likely 
 isoou to forget either that sight or that hearing. The students 
 |are assembled : a small, spare man, buttoned up in an old brown 
 surtout, and having his trowsers tucked in at the tops of his 
 boots, enters the room, holding a few papers in his hand, shuts 
 
xxviii MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AX'D 
 
 the door hastily, steps upon a small dais furnished with an ele¬ 
 vated desk, and immediately commences talking in a calm, 
 measured, abstracted manner, while he leans his forehead upon 
 his left hand, and this upon the desk before him. The small, 
 well-turned head, with its tangled mass of jet black hair 
 those shaggy, portentous eyebrows—those small but brilliant 
 eyes, which seem anxious to shut out the earthly daj light, 
 perhaps that they may dwell without hindrance upon the 
 clearer light within—that southern complexion—those sensi¬ 
 tive features—and the rising enthusiasm of that deep-toned 
 voice—might well call forth expectation, if—But did ever 
 mortal eyes behold such extraordinary attitudes—such unac¬ 
 countable gesticulation—such reckless defiance of all fashion¬ 
 able ‘ Guides to Elocution ?’ Now playing with an old pen, 
 and twisting it into every possible fashion—now scrutinizing 
 every finger-nail in succession, with as much earnestness as if 
 the "lecture were written there —now standing on one leg, 
 while the other performs a series of rapid and indescribable 
 gyrations—and now again, groping after the black board that 
 hangs against the wall behind him! Surely the man is pos¬ 
 sessed ! ° Yea, verily ; but not as thou wouldst insinuate. It 
 were well that some of us too were possessed by the same 
 powers that have mastered him. Think for a moment oj what 
 he is speaking! How shall one small body express, by any 
 conceivable gesticulation, the spiritual throes, the mighty up- 
 heavings which precede or attend the conversion of a continent, 
 the construction of a theology, the soul-birth of a reformer, 
 the renovation of the Christian world ? It is clearly a hope¬ 
 less thing ; and he at least will not make the attempt. Arms 
 and legs are at liberty to become disjecta membra if they 
 choose,^so they will but refrain from impeding the man in the 
 utterance of that clear, calm insight, and that strong convic¬ 
 tion, which fill his soul to overflowing. Listen awhile ; and if 
 thou hast a heart for the noble, the good, the true—if the 
 utterance of a faith as earnest as it is intelligent and discrimi¬ 
 nating has any power to awaken faitli in thee—thou shalt hear 
 the long-drawn ages of the Christian past 'preaching to thee by 
 that -voice, Christ and him crucified , the help and hope of 
 humanity, in all the possible varieties of its constitution, de¬ 
 velopment, and combination ; in such a manner, too, that the 
 message itself is its own best evidence, and the history of 
 
WRITINGS OF DR. NEANDER 
 
 XXIX 
 
 Christianity becomes, at least for the moment, the most con¬ 
 vincing apology for Christianity.”* 
 
 Neander’s literary activity was well defined as to its prin¬ 
 ciple, object, and field. He knew what he was about, and 
 chose the best method of reaching the end in view. The cen¬ 
 tral labour of his life was his ‘ General History of the Chris¬ 
 tian Religion and Church,’ — one of the most admirable 
 monuments of the theology of the nineteenth century. Al¬ 
 though numberless works have already been published on the 
 same subject, this is, in its sphere, as wholly original as that 
 of Niebuhr on Roman History. The reason of this originality 
 is, that he boldly went back to the primitive sources. He 
 would not publish a history at second or third hand ; but he 
 pursued his researches as patiently and carefully as if he had 
 had no predecessors. His work is therefore unrivalled. Un¬ 
 happily he did not’ live to complete it. The volumes that he 
 i has published reach down to the middle of the fourteenth cen¬ 
 tury. How greatly is it to be regretted that he was not spared 
 to relate the acts and explain the doctrines of our glorious 
 Reformation ! Much might have been expected from him, 
 i and he would undoubtedly have shed much new light upon the 
 history of this important period. 
 
 His ‘ History of the Planting and Training of the Christian 
 ! Church by the Apostles ’ has been thus characterized :—“ The 
 i chief value of this work lies in its constituting a historico- 
 : critical introduction to the latter half of the New Testament, 
 i It is not enough to say that the materials of it are almost 
 1 exclusively derived from the book of Acts and the inspired 
 : epistles; these are hardly more its sources than its subject. 
 
 And the great distinction of these volumes from the multitude 
 i of others which embrace the same subject consists partly in 
 j the direction which the author’s mind has taken in illustrating 
 I it; partly in the mass of literary information which he has 
 i brought to bear upon it; partly in the masterly experience 
 i with which the illustration is conducted ; and partly in the 
 I Christian spirit which informs the whole. We have charac- 
 ■ terized the work as historico-critical. It is such, not merely 
 i because it narrates the principal facts of primitive Christian 
 : history, and follows up this narrative with an elaborate ana- 
 
 * Biblical Review, vol. vi., pp. 58-9. 
 
XXX 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND 
 
 lysis of apostolic doctrine, but because, being throughout his¬ 
 torical in its subject, it is throughout critical in its manner. 
 The doctrinal analysis is given to show historically what and 
 how the apostles taught, not apologetically to justify their teach¬ 
 ing ; and the narrative of facts is everywhere invested with that 
 light which criticism concentrates from a comprehensive know¬ 
 ledge of antiquity, and a successful perusal of human nature.” 
 
 The ‘ Life of Christ ’ has, in part, a polemical origin and 
 signification, in consequence of the previous publication of 
 that marvellous dream-book which Strauss has composed under 
 a similar title. At the time of the appearance of‘ the latter 
 work, the Minister of Ecclesiastical Affairs consulted Nean- 
 der’s opinion as to the propriety of prohibiting its sale in 
 Prussia. Neander, who at that time was reading lectures 
 upon the life of Jesus, replied that, as his opinions were in 
 direct opposition to those of Strauss, he wofdd write a book in 
 which he would endeavour to confute the dangerous views 
 advocated by that author. He could not advise the prohibition 
 of the work—it had already taken its place in the scientific 
 world, and could only be put down by argument. “ Our 
 Saviour,” said he, “ needs not the assistance of man to main¬ 
 tain his Church upon earth.” We need hardly say that 
 Neander completely overthrew the anti-Christian doctrines of 
 his opponent, and proved once more that orthodoxy need never 
 fear to measure itself against rationalism. 
 
 Neander’s other works are for the most part monographs, or 
 studies of particular events or characters afterwards portrayed 
 in his great work, such as his biographies of Julian the Apos¬ 
 tate, St. Bernard, and St. Chrysostom, his Anti-Gnostikus, 
 and his Development of the Gnostic System; Sketches, de¬ 
 signed to make Church History conducive to general Chris¬ 
 tian edification;* and Notices of contemporary individuals or 
 occurrences, such as appeared to possess an extraordinary 
 interest in connection with the state and prospects of the king¬ 
 dom of God on earth. He has also contributed some valuable 
 memoirs to the proceedings of the historico-philosophical class 
 in the Berlin Royal Academy of Sciences: and his contribu¬ 
 tions to the religious periodicals of Germany were frequent. 
 
 * His “Memorabilia from the History of the Christian Life,” and his 
 volume on the “Unity and Variety of the Christian Life,” belong to 
 this class. 
 
WRITINGS OF DR. NEANDER. 
 
 xxxi 
 
 On Monday, the 8th of July, 1850, he lectured as usual; 
 on Monday, the 15th of the same month, at about two o’clock 
 in the morning, his spirit departed. He was somewhat unwell 
 i on the 8th, but not so as to interfere with his duties at the 
 University ; in the evening, however, he became very ill. His 
 j malady was a disease of the bowels, and his sufferings were 
 ; excruciating during the whole week. On Sunday morning, 
 though a strongly medicated bath relieved him somewhat, his 
 | reason gave way. No sooner had he lost the command of his 
 i mind than he began to fancy that his duties called him to his 
 i lecture-room, and besought his physician for permission to go. 
 
 ! Afterwards he called for the young man whom he had em- 
 i ployed to read to him since the partial failure of his sight, and 
 i requested him to go on with the work he was reading the day 
 I before his illness began. Then he appeared to think himself 
 j in his lecture-room, and that he had delivered his usual lec- 
 i ture, and said, “• I am weaiy : let us go home.” After this 
 l his feeble eye caught sight of the books ranged round his 
 | room, and they brought to mind the meetings for the study of 
 I the New Testament and the Fathers of the Church, which he 
 held weekly with the students in his own house. Imagining 
 his class to be present, he spoke some time upon certain pas^ 
 j sages of the New Testament, and afterwards wandering into 
 ! the early history of the Church, he dictated a page or two for 
 
 ! the continuation of his magnum opus. After finishing this_ 
 
 : it was towards the close of the day—he said gently, “ 1 am 
 j weary ; I must sleep. Good night.” Being now easy—that 
 j fatal symptom—he fell asleep and breathed until about two 
 ! o’clock on Monday morning, when, in that other and more 
 ; solemn sense, he again fell asleep. 
 
 On the 17th of July his funeral took place. In the morning 
 the students and professors of the Universities of Berlin and 
 I Halle, with a number of clergymen, relatives, and high officers 
 I of government, met at his house to hear the funeral discourse. 
 
 ; This was pronounced by Dr. Friedrich Strauss, who for forty- 
 j five years had been an intimate friend of Neander. During 
 : the service, the body, not yet placed in the coffin, lay on the 
 ! bed > cov ered with wreaths and flowers, and surrounded (as is 
 the custom in Germany) with burning candles. At ten 
 | o clock the procession was formed, and proceeded to the ceme- 
 i tery. Along the whole distance, nearly two miles, the sides 
 
xxxn 
 
 MEMOIR OF DR. NEANDER. 
 
 of the streets and the doors and windows ot the houses were 
 tilled with an immense concourse of people who had come to 
 look upon the solemn scene. The hearse was surrounded by 
 students, many of them from Halle, carrying lighted candles, 
 and in advance were borne the Bible and Greek Testament 
 which had been constantly used by the deceased. 
 
 At the grave a choir of young men sang appropriate music, 
 and Dr. Ivrummacher delivered an affecting address. It was a 
 solemn sight to see the tears gushing from the eyes of those 
 who had been the pupils and friends of Neander. Many were 
 deeply moved, and well might they join with the world in 
 mourning for one who has done more than any other person 
 to keep pure the religion of Christ in Germany. -Alter the 
 benediction was pronounced, every one present, according to 
 custom, went to the grave and threw into it a handful ot 
 earth, thus assisting in the burial. Slowly and in scattered 
 groups the crowd dispersed to their various homes. 
 
 Neander, though dead, yet speaketh. He has gone from 
 amongst us, but he still lives in his writings. His body has 
 been consigned to the grave, but the sunset glory ot Ins ex¬ 
 ample still illumines our sky, and will for ever light us onward 
 to the path he trod. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 CONDITION OF THE WORLD, ROMAN, GREEK, AND JEWISH, AT THE 
 TIME OF THE FIRST APPEARANCE AND THE COMMENCEMENT 
 OF THE SPREAD OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Our purpose is to trace, through the course of past centuries, 
 lying before us for review, the growtli of that mighty tree 
 which, springing up from the little grain of mustard-seed, is 
 destined to overshadow the earth, and under the branches of 
 which all nations are to find a safe lodging. The history will 
 show how a little leaven, cast into the whole lump of humanity, 
 has been gradually leavening it. Looking back on the period 
 of eighteen centuries, we have to survey a process of develop¬ 
 ment in which we ourselves are still involved ; a process which, 
 moving steadily onwards, not always indeed in a straight line, 
 but through various windings, is yet in the end furthered by 
 whatever attempts to arrest its advance ; a process which, hav¬ 
 ing its issue in eternity, constantly follows the same laws, so 
 that in the past, as it unfolds itself to our view, we may see 
 the germ of the future, which is yet to meet us. But while 
 it is the contemplation of history that enables us to discern 
 the moving powers as they are prepared in their secret labora¬ 
 tories, and as they exhibit themselves in actual operation, yet 
 a right understanding of all this presupposes that we have 
 formed some just conception of the inward essence of that 
 which we would study in its manifestation and process of 
 development. Our knowledge here falls into an inevitable 
 circle. To understand history we must already possess some 
 notion of that which constitutes its working principle; but it 
 is also history itself that furnishes us the proper test by which 
 to ascertain whether its principle has been rightly apprehended. 
 Consequently our understanding of the history of Christianity 
 will depend on the conception we have formed to ourselves of 
 Christianity itself. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 B 
 
ptm 
 
 I m 
 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 Is.!, 
 
 Iw 
 
 
 '7 
 
 |\ 
 
 
 4 CONNECTION OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Now we look upon Christianity not as a power that has 
 sprung up out of the hidden depths of man’s nature, but as 
 one which descended from above, when heaven opened itself 
 anew to man’s long alienated race; a power which, as both in 
 its origin and its essence it is exalted above all that human 
 nature can create out of its own resources, was designed to 
 impart to that nature a new life, and to change it in its inmost 
 principles. The prime source of this power is He whose life 
 exhibits to us the manifestation of it—Jesus of Nazareth—the 
 Redeemer of mankind when estranged from God by sin. In 
 the devotion of faith in Him, and the appropriation of the 
 truth which He revealed, consists the essence of Christianity, 
 and of that fellowship of the divine life resulting from it which 
 we designate by the name of the Church. By it is formed that 
 consciousness of community which unites all its members in one, 
 however divided from one another by space or time. The con¬ 
 tinuance of all those effects, whereby Christianity has given a 
 new character to the life of our race, depends on our holding 
 fast to this, its peculiar essence, the original cause of all these 
 effects. To the Kingdom of God, which derived its origin 
 from these influences on humanity, and from which alone it 
 can ever continue to spring up, may be applied the remark of 
 an ancient historian respecting the kingdoms of the world, that 
 they are best preserved by the same means by which they were 
 first founded.* 
 
 But although Christianity cannot be understood except as 
 something which, being above nature and reason, is commu¬ 
 nicated to them from a higher source, it stands nevertheless in 
 necessary connection with the essence of these powers and with 
 their mode of development. Otherwise, indeed, it would not 
 be fitted to raise them to higher perfection, and in short would 
 be unable to exercise any influence on them. And such a 
 connection we must presume to exist absolutely among all the 
 works of God, in whose mutual and harmonious agreement is 
 manifested the divine order of the universe. This connection 
 consists therein, that whatever has by their Creator been im¬ 
 planted in the essence of human nature and reason, whatever 
 has its ground in their idea and their destination, can only 
 attain to its full realization by means of that higher principle, 
 
 * Imperium facile his artibus retinetur, quibus initio partum est. 
 
WITH NATURE AND REASON. 
 
 3 
 
 such as we see it actually realized in Him who is its Source, 
 and in whom is expressed the original type and model after 
 which humanity has to strive. And accordingly we discover 
 abundant evidence of this connection when we observe human 
 nature and reason, and see how, by virtue of this their original 
 capacity, they do, in their historical development, actually 
 strive after this higher principle, which needs to be communi¬ 
 cated to them in order to their own completion; and how by 
 the same capacity they are made receptive of this principle, 
 and are led onwards till they yield to it, and become moulded 
 by its influence. It is simply because such a connection exists,— 
 because in all cases where, by historical preparations, the soil 
 has been rendered suitable for its reception, Christianity, enter¬ 
 ing readily into all that is human, strives to assimilate it to its 
 own nature, and to imbue it \yith its own spirit—that, on a 
 superficial view, Christianity itself appears to be only a result 
 produced by the joint action of the several spiritual elements 
 it had drawn together. And accordingly the opinion that it 
 could thus be explained has found its advocates. And for 
 the same reason Christianity may also be blended for a while 
 with the impure elements which it attracts by its influence, 
 and so in its temporary manifestation assume a shape which 
 wholly resembles them: but at last, by its own intrinsic 
 power, it begins a process of purification, from which it issues 
 refined and ennobled even in its outward form. And this 
 circumstance, again, might be made to furnish some hold for 
 the opinion that all those impure elements, which only attached 
 themselves to Christianity in its outward manifestation, sprang 
 from its essence; whereas, in fact, the real tendency of its 
 essence, as the process of development goes on, is to separate 
 and reject them. In the contemplation of history, as well as 
 of nature, it is in truth extremely difficult to avoid con¬ 
 founding accidental symptoms with more deep-seated agen¬ 
 cies,—to distinguish clearly the true cause from what merely 
 works on the surface.* 
 
 If this holds good of the relation of Christianity to the 
 development of human nature generally, it will be found to 
 apply with peculiar force to that great period which was 
 
 * We might apply here what the great historian Polybius says on 
 another, though kindred, subject: ’Ap%yi rl xai 57 'o&ov 'hittrrviKiv 
 
 airta; xai 111. VI., 6. 
 

 
 [!L 
 
 RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 I. 
 
 I-.v 
 
 |?v. 
 
 IN •' 
 
 KVj 
 
 m 
 
 chosen for the appearance of the Saviour of the world, and 
 for diffusing among mankind, from Him, as their source, those 
 heavenly principles which formed the commencement of that 
 new creation, whose progressive development became forth¬ 
 with the final problem and the goal of history. It is there¬ 
 fore only from its historical connection with the previous 
 development of that portion of mankind among whom 
 Christianity first appeared that its effects can be rightly 
 understood; and such a connected view of the subject is 
 necessary to guard against all false explanations. 
 
 Such a connection is hinted at by the Apostle Paul, when 
 he says that Christ appeared when the fulness of the time was 
 come. For these words clearly imply that the precise time 
 when He appeared had some particular relation to His appear¬ 
 ance ;■—that the preparations made by the previous develop¬ 
 ment of the history of nations had been leading precisely to 
 this point, and were destined to proceed just so tar, in order to 
 admit of this appearance—the goal and central point of all. 
 It is true this appearance stands in a highly peculiar relation 
 to the religion of the Hebrews, which was designed to pre¬ 
 pare the way for it in an eminently peculiar sense. It is 
 connected with this religion by the common element of a 
 divine revelation—of a super-natural and supra-rational ele¬ 
 ment ; by the common interest of Theism and the Theocracy. 
 For all revealed religion, the whole development of Theism 
 and the Theocracy, points from the beginning towards one 
 end. And this being once reached, every part must be re¬ 
 cognised as belonging to one organic whole—a whole wherein 
 all the principal momenta served to announce beforehand, and 
 to prepare the way for, the end towards which they were tend¬ 
 ing as their last fulfilment and consummation. It is in this 
 point of view that Christ was able to say of his relation to the 
 Jewish religion, what in the same sense he could not say with 
 respect to any other—that he was not come to destroy the law 
 and the prophets, but to fulfil; although it is at the same time 
 true that the character of one who came not to destroy but to 
 fulfil best describes the position of Christ relatively to what¬ 
 ever of truth lay at the bottom of all religions, and in short 
 to all that is pure in humanity. But still we must not 
 here confine ourselves exclusively to the connection between 
 Christianity and Judaism. Judaism itself, as the revealed 
 
TO JUDAISM AND PAGANISM. 
 
 5 
 
 religion of Theism, cannot be understood in its true significance, 
 except as contrasted with paganism as the religion of Nature. 
 Whilst, on the one hand, the seed of divine truth out of which 
 Christianity sprang was communicated to reason by divine 
 revelation ; so, on the other hand, reason, unfolding itself from 
 beneath, had to learn by experience, especially among that great 
 historical people the Greeks, how far singly, and by its own 
 power, it could advance in the knowledge of divine things. 
 To this the Apostle Paul alludes when he says, “ God hath 
 determined for all nations the times before appointed, and the 
 bounds of their habitation, that they should seek the Lord, if 
 haply they might feel after him and find him.” And so, too, 
 when he says of the times immediately preceding the revelation 
 of the gospel, that the world, by its own wisdom, sought to 
 know God in his wisdom, but could not know him. As the 
 duty had been laid on the Hebrews to preserve and transmit 
 the heaven-derived element of the Theistic religion, so it was 
 ordained that among the Greeks all seeds of human culture 
 should expand in beautiful harmony to a complete and perfect 
 whole. Then Christianity, removing the opposition between 
 the divine and the human, came to unite both in one, and to 
 show how it was necessary that both should cooperate in pre¬ 
 paring for its own appearance and for the unfolding of all 
 that it contains. Origen therefore did not hesitate to admit 
 what Celsus, the great antagonist of Christianity, had main¬ 
 tained, when he ascribed to the Greeks a peculiar adaptation 
 of talents and fitness of position, which qualified them for ap¬ 
 plying human culture to the development and elaboration of 
 those elements of divine knowledge they had received from 
 other quarters, and especially from the East.* 
 
 Besides, among pagans, the transient flashes of a deeply- 
 seated consciousness of God—the sporadic revelations of Him 
 in Whom we live and move and have our being, and Who has 
 not left himself without witness among any people—those 
 testimonia animoc naturaliter Christiana, (as it is expressed 
 by an ancient father,) which pointed to Christianity, are too 
 clear to be mistaken. And while it was necessary that the 
 influence of Judaism should spread unto the heathen world, in 
 
 "Or; x/nvai (ht(!>ouc!jffff.ff§a.i xct) u.ffKriffa.1 ffr^'oi to. vrro. 
 
 t L^ibivra KfictivovE? tlffm ''Exa»vss. Origen, acquiescing in this opinion, says 
 it serves precisely for the vindication of Christianity. C. Cels. I. 2. 
 
c 
 
 RELIGIOUS CONDITION 
 
 order to prepare the way and open a point of communication 
 for Christianity, so was it needful also that the stern and 
 repulsive rigidity of Judaism should be softened and expanded 
 by the elements of Hellenic culture, in order to adapt it to 
 embrace the new truths which the Gospel was to exhibit. 
 The throe great historical nations had, each in its own 
 peculiar way, to cooperate in preparing the soil on which 
 Christianity was to be planted,-—the Jews on the side of the 
 religious element; the Greeks on the side of science and art; 
 the Romans, as masters of the world, on the side of the political 
 element. When the fulness of the time was come, and Christ 
 appeared,—when the goal of history had thus been reached,— 
 then it was that, through him, and by the power of the spirit 
 that proceeded from him—by the might of Christianity,—all the 
 threads of human development, which had hitherto been kept 
 apart, were to be brought together and interwoven in one web. 
 
 We shall now proceed more particularly to consider the seve¬ 
 ral courses of development by which revealed and natural reli¬ 
 gion alike,—Judaism on the one hand, and Greek or Roman 
 institutions on the other,—cooperated in preparing the way 
 for Christianity; and first of all let us cast a glance at the reli¬ 
 gious state of the pagan world among the Greeks and Romans. 
 
 State of the Pagan World among the Greeks and Romans. 
 
 If, in the ancient world, a dark fatality seemed to reveal 
 itselj in the rise and fall of nations, an irresistible cycle 
 before which all human greatness must give place, still we 
 may recognise therein the consciousness of a law of develop¬ 
 ment necessary at that stage of the world. All national 
 .greatness depends on the tone of public feeling and manners ; 
 and this again on the influence which religion exerts on the 
 life of the people. But the popular religions of antiquity 
 answered only for a certain stage of culture. When, in the 
 course of progress, a nation passed beyond this, an alienation 
 of spirit from its religious traditions was a necessary con¬ 
 sequence. In the case of the more quiet and equable develop¬ 
 ment of the Oriental mind,—so tenacious of the old,—the 
 opposition between the mythic religion of the people, and the 
 secret, theosophic doctrines of a priestly caste, who gave direc¬ 
 tion to the popular conscience, might exist for centuries with- 
 
OF THE PAGAN WORLD. 
 
 7 
 
 out. producing’ any change. But among the more excitable 
 nations of the West, intellectual culture, as soon as it attained 
 to a certain degree of independence, necessarily came into col¬ 
 lision with the mythic religion which had been handed down 
 from their infancy as a people. The more widely intelligence 
 was diffused, the deeper became the discord. Religion was 
 deprived of its power, and a revolt against its authority led at 
 the same time to a depravation of morals. Thus a culture, 
 devoid of all religious and moral grounds of support such as 
 might be capable of withstanding every shock and indestruc¬ 
 tible under all changes, and torn from its connection with the 
 inner life that alone gives the vigour of health to all human 
 efforts, could not but degenerate into false civilization and 
 corruption. There was as yet no salt to preserve the life of 
 humanity from decomposing, or to restore to purity what was 
 passing into decomposition. 
 
 As it was to the Grecian mind—freed in its development 
 from the influence of tradition—that philosophy and all such 
 sciences as are independent in form owe their existence; so 
 too it was among the Greeks that the mighty schism first pre¬ 
 sented itself between the human mind in its pursuit of free¬ 
 dom and the popular religion. As early as the fifth and 
 fourth centuries before Christ, the arbitrary and heartless 
 dialectic of the Sophists was directed against the authority 
 of holy tradition and of morals. Plato represents Socrates as 
 protesting even in his days against this rage for enlighten¬ 
 ment, and characterising it as a a boorish wisdom,”* that put. 
 itself to the thankless task of tracing all mythical tales to 
 some natural fact, neglecting meanwhile what is most im¬ 
 portant to and most concerning man, the knowledge of him¬ 
 self. And in the next generation arose a certain Euemerus, 
 from the school of Cyrene, who fancied that he had compassed 
 the long-sought object, by resolving the whole doctrine of the 
 gods into a history of nature. 
 
 Among the Romans, more than any other ancient people, 
 religion was closely interwoven with politics. The one gave 
 life to the other. Here, more than elsewhere, the whole social 
 and political body was based on religious customs, which, by 
 
 * ’Aygolxu «*} <ro(pla. is what he says of one of those enlight¬ 
 
 eners who were for explaining everything into the natural and trivial. 
 Phtcdrus, p. 285, Plat. ed. Bipont, Vol. X. 
 
8 
 
 RELIGION OF THE TAG AN WORLD. 
 
 their connection with modesty of manners, presented a striking 
 contrast with the mythology of Greece,—a system whose ele¬ 
 ments were aesthetical rather than moral, and which did not 
 shrink even from an open union with immorality.* * * § The great 
 historian Polybius has given us a picture of Roman life, such 
 as it was a century and a half before Christ, while it yet 
 retained its ancient simplicity. Judging by those maxims of 
 the understanding, which, as a statesman, he was in the habit 
 of applying to the affairs of the world, he believed that that 
 very trait which had been most commonly objected to in the 
 Roman character,—an excessive superstition wrought into their 
 whole public and private life,—was, in truth, the firmest pillar 
 of the Roman state.f Contemplating religion in this out¬ 
 ward way, he saw in it only a means, which the wisdom of 
 lawgivers employed, for training and leading the multitude. 
 “ If it were possible,” he remarked, “ to form a state of wise 
 men, such a procedure would perhaps be found unnecessary. 
 But as a counterpoise to the power which unruly passions and 
 desires exercise over the excitable multitude, there is need of 
 such contrivances to hold them in check by their fear of the 
 invisible, and by such like tales of horror.”j By such a 
 power of religious faith he accounted for the integrity and 
 trustworthiness of the Roman magistrates, with whom an 
 oath was a pledge of fidelity, to be relied on with far more 
 confidence than any number of other securities in Grecian 
 states. While, therefore, he praised the ancients, not without 
 good reason, as having introduced among the multitude these 
 opinions concerning the gods and the things of the lower 
 world, he felt constrained to censure those of his contempora¬ 
 ries who were most unreasonably and inconsiderately seeking 
 to destroy these convictions.§ 
 
 It was a necessary result of the position occupied by the 
 
 * A difference between the Roman and Grecian religions, particularly 
 noticed by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, a Greek writer of the Augustan 
 age. See the well-known and remarkable passage in Archaeol. Roman. 
 1. II. c. 18. 
 
 f Keel f/,ot "hoxu to sTxox to7s diXXoi; d.vQodjoroic ovu'St^d/x&vov, tovto avvi~xuv tx 
 fo/xccluiv orody/xaTX, Xiyu 'A Tri v 'butn'^uifxovlxv. L, VI. C. 56. 
 
 t A uorirai, to7-, xddiXoi; ipd/oois kxi Ty ToiauTy Teayudla tx tXvSh truny^uy. 
 
 § Aiotio oi TaXaioi 'ioKoZm uoi to.; ortoi Slav inoixs y.ai tx; vv\f> two 
 uhov '&iaXri^u( oux. ttxn xai do? tru^tv us tx TXr,Sri orx^uffxyxyuv' tfoXv oi 
 umXXov ol yiiv ilxTi xxi xXoyu; ix/oxXXuv aura. 
 
RELIGION AMONG THE COMMON PEOPLE. 
 
 9 
 
 ancient world, that, in proportion as scientific culture came to 
 be more generally diffused among the people, this opposition 
 noticed by Polybius between the subjective conviction of 
 individuals and the public religion of the state would become 
 more strongly marked. It was impossible to establish on any 
 grounds of truth a fellowship of religious interest between the 
 cultivated class and the uneducated. The wiser sort endea¬ 
 voured to maintain the popular religion ; some, like Polybius, 
 merely because they recognised in it a necessary means to 
 political ends,—others, like philosophers of greater depth, be¬ 
 cause they regarded it as something more than the work of 
 human caprice, and belonging to a higher necessity ; as resting 
 on a basis of truth, which could only be brought home to the 
 minds of the multitude under this anthropomorphic shape;— 
 as the fragments of a tradition, which transmitted the know¬ 
 ledge of divine things possessed in the earliest times, and in 
 which all that was true, and that deserved to be acknowledged 
 as such even by the wise, ought to be distinguished from the 
 imperfect form.* With Polybius agrees Strabo the geogra¬ 
 pher, who wrote in the age of Augustus Csesar. “ The mul¬ 
 titude of women,” he observes, “ and the entire mass of the 
 common people, cannot be led to piety by the doctrines of 
 philosophy; to effect this therefore superstition is necessary, 
 which may call in the aid of myths and tales of wonder.” 
 Having adduced some examples from Grecian mythology, he 
 adds, “Such things the founders of states employed as bug¬ 
 bears to awe childish people.” These myths, as it seemed to 
 him, were required not only for children, but also for the 
 ignorant and uneducated, who are no better than children; 
 
 * So Aristotle; who says, “It has been handed down in a mythical 
 form, from the earliest times to posterity, that there are gods, and that 
 the divine (the Deity) compasses entire nature. All besides this has been 
 added, after the mythical style, for the purpose of pursuading the mul¬ 
 titude, and for the interest of the laws and the advantage of the state. 
 Thus men have given to the gods human forms, and have even represented 
 them under the figure of other beings, in the train of which fictions fol¬ 
 lowed many more of the like sort. But if, from all this, we separate the 
 original principle, and consider it alone, namely, that the first essences 
 are gods, we shall find that this has been divinely said; and since it is 
 probable that philosophy and the arts have been several times, so far as 
 that is possible, found and lost, such doctrines may have been preserved 
 to our times as the remains of ancient wdsdom.” Metaphys. x. 8. 
 
10 
 
 RELIGION AMONG THE COMMON PEOPLE. 
 
 and even for those whose education is imperfect, for in their 
 case too reason has not as yet acquired sufficient strength to 
 throw off the habits they contracted in the years of childhood.* 
 In the latter times of the Roman republic, when the ancient 
 simplicity of manners was fast disappearing before the advance 
 of intellectual culture, this opposition, (which had been long 
 prevalent among the Greeks,) between the religion of thinking 
 men and the state-religion or the popular faith, became more 
 general in proportion to the growing influence of Grecian 
 philosophy. Thus Varro, the learned Roman antiquarian, 
 who lived about the time of our Saviour’s birth, distinguished 
 three kinds of theology—the poetic or mythical, the civil, and 
 the natural; the last being the only one which belongs to the 
 whole world, and in which the wise are agreed. The theologia 
 civilis , in its relation to truth, lay, in his opinion, midway 
 between mythology and philosophical religion.f Seneca too 
 thus writes in his treatise ‘ Against Superstition “ The whole 
 of that vulgar crowd of gods, which for ages past a Protean 
 superstition has been accumulating, we shall worship in this 
 sense—so, viz., as never to forget that the worship we pay them 
 is due rather to good manners than to their own worth. All 
 such rites the sage will observe, because they are commanded 
 by the laws, not because they are pleasing to the gods.” So 
 Cotta (whom Cicero introduces as the Academician in the 
 third book of his work ‘ De natura Deorum ’) is able to distin¬ 
 guish, in his own person, the two different positions of the 
 pontifex and the philosopher. But it was not every one that 
 possessed the requisite wisdom to hold these two positions dis¬ 
 tinct, and to keep them from destroying where they had 
 nothing better to offer in the place of that which they de¬ 
 stroyed. The inner disunion was at length no longer to be 
 concealed even from those who were no philosophers. When 
 with the increase of luxury a superficial cultivation became 
 common among the Romans, and the ancient simplicity of 
 
 * In Strabo Geograph. 1. I. c. 2. 
 
 f His words are: Prima theologia maxime accommodata est ad thea- 
 trum. secunda ad niundum, tertia ad urbem. Ea, qua; scribunt poet®, 
 minus esse, quam ut populi sequi debeant, qua; autem philosophi, plus 
 quam ut ea vulgum scrutari expediat. Ea qua; facilius intra parietes in 
 sehola, quam extra in foro ferre possunt aures. Augustin, de civitate 
 Dei. 1. VI. c. 5 et seq. 
 
RELIGION AMONG THE EDUCATED. 
 
 11 
 
 manners gradually disappeared ; when the old civic virtue 
 declined with the fall of the old constitution and freedom, 
 and was succeeded by every species of moral depravity and 
 abject servitude; then was eveiy tie broken which had pre¬ 
 viously bound up the religion of the state so closely and 
 so intimately with the whole life of the people. Those among 
 the philosophical systems of the Greeks, which most, com¬ 
 pletely harmonized with a worldly, thoughtless spirit, and 
 were devoid of all susceptibility for the godlike; those which 
 made pleasure mans highest end, or which led to a doubt of 
 all objective truth,—Epicureanism, as represented, for example, 
 by a Lucretius and scepticism,—found welcome on all sides. 
 And although the systems themselves were seldom studied, yet 
 the great, mass of half-educated men became familiar with 
 their lesults. Individuals appeared who, like Lucian, pointed 
 the shafts of their wit against the existing religion and the 
 superstitions of the people. In the religious systems of the 
 several nations which the Roman empire had brought into 
 contact with one another, as well as in the doctrines of the 
 philosophical schools, men saw nothing but a strife of opinions 
 without a criterion of truth. The ejaculation of Pilate, 
 What is truth ? • in which he ridiculed all enthusiasm about 
 such a matter—bespoke the sentiment of many a noble Roman. 
 
 I hose who, without any deep sense of religious need, were 
 yet unable to make up their minds to a total denial of religion, 
 endeavoured to content themselves with that dread abstraction 
 from the living forms of religion which as a sort of slough is 
 usually thrown ofl by their fast expiring vitality,—a certain 
 species of Deism,—a way of thinking that does not indeed 
 absolutely deny the existence of a Deity, but yet places him at 
 the utmost possible distance and in the farthest background. 
 An idle deity is all that they want; not one everywhere active 
 and with living influence pervading the whole system of things, 
 lo men of this way of thinking, he who to satisfy his religious 
 wants looks for something beyond this meagre abstraction— 
 he who longs to know something more of man’s relation to 
 a higher world—appears a fanatic or a fool. The inquiries 
 that a profounder feeling of religious need suggests are per- 
 fectly unintelligible to such minds; for they are strangers to 
 t ie feeling itself. In the notions entertained by the many 
 concerning the anger of the gods, and the punishments of 
 
12 
 
 OPINIONS OF VARRO. 
 
 the lower world, they can see nothing but superstition, and 
 are unable to recognise in them a fundamental truth, and an 
 undeniable need of human nature, which only when misunder¬ 
 stood leads men into delusion and error. But by minds of 
 this stamp all alike is ridiculed as the mere dream and fancy 
 of finite man, who transfers his own passions to his gods. A 
 representative of this class is furnished by Lucian, that sati¬ 
 rical castigator of manners in the age of the Antonines, who 
 characterizes himself as the hater of lies, cheats, and charla¬ 
 tanry.* * * § And of the philosophers in his time, Justin Martyr 
 observes “ that the greater part bestow no thought on the 
 questions, whether there be one God, or whether there be 
 many gods; whether there be a providence or not; as if 
 knowledge of these matters were of no importance to our 
 well-being. “ They rather seek,” he says, “ to convince us 
 also that the Divinity extends his care to the great whole and 
 its several classes, but not to me and to you, not to men as 
 individuals. Therefore, they teach, it is useless to pray to 
 him, for all things recur according to the unchangeable laws 
 of an endless progression.”')' 
 
 From this wreck of religion many sought to rescue a faith 
 in one divine primal essence, which, however, they found 
 it difficult to distinguish from the world. A simple spiritual 
 worship of this essence appeared to be the original truth, 
 which, in popular religions, lay at the foundation of the whole 
 fabric of superstition. Thus Yarro was of opinion that the 
 only thing true in religion was the idea of a rational soul of 
 the world, by which all things are moved and governed.^ 
 He traces the origin of superstition and unbelief to the intro¬ 
 duction of idols, which he contends were unknown to the 
 earliest religion of the Romans.§ “ If,” he says, “ images 
 had not been introduced, the gods would have been worshipped 
 in chaster and simpler rites.” || In proof of this he appeals 
 
 * MiraXa^uv tifti xcc'i piuroyon; xa'i /&iro\)/iu2ris xa) [utroTUtpai xal (javui •ku.i ro 
 TMovrii'ii; tuv sravty St vroXXol siViv. Which, to he 
 
 sure, he could say, with perfect justice, of his own time. See the dia¬ 
 logue entitled ixuvs. 
 
 t Dial. c. Tryph. Jud. at the beginning f. 218, Ed. Colon. 1686. 
 
 J Anima motu ac ratione mundum gubernans. 
 
 § Qui primi simulacra deorum populis posuerunt, eos civitatibus suis 
 et metum demsisse et errorem addidisse. 
 
 |j Castius Dii observarentur ; see Augustin, de civ. Dei, 1. V. c. 31. 
 
OPINIONS OF STRABO AND OF DEMON AX. 
 
 13 
 
 to the example of the Jews. So, too, Strabo enlightens us as 
 to what he himself considered to be the original truth of 
 religion, when he describes Moses as a religious reformer, who 
 established a simple and spiritual worship of a Supreme 
 Being, in opposition to the idol and image worship of other 
 nations ; “ and this one Supreme Essence,” he says “ is that 
 which embraces us all, the water, and the land,—that which 
 we call the heavens, the world, the nature of things. This 
 Highest Being should be worshipped, without any visible 
 image, in sacred groves. In such retreats the devout should 
 lay themselves down to sleep, and expect signs from God in 
 dreams. But Strabo supposes that this simple nature-worship 
 became afterwards, as well among the Jews as everywhere 
 else, corrupted by superstition and thirst for power.* We 
 must here also mention that eclectic philosopher of the Cynic 
 school, Demonax of the isle of Cyprus, who, at the beginning 
 of the second century, resided in Athens, where he reached 
 nearly the age of a hundred years, and lived universally respected 
 for his simple life and extensive benevolence. He was the repre¬ 
 sentative of a sober, practical bent of mind, which never looked 
 beyond the purely human, and, while it discarded whatever 
 savoured of superstition and fanaticism, checked all inquiry also 
 a.jout super-terrestrial things. He made no offerings, because 
 the gods needed none. He had no desire to be initiated into 
 the mysteries, for he thought “if they were bad they ought to 
 be divulged, to keep men away from them ; and if they 5 were 
 
 t w[ S,l0lll,i ’ from ,ove to mankind, be communicated to 
 all YV hen a show of gladiators was about to be exhibited in 
 Athens, he presented himself before the assembled people, and 
 told them they ought not to permit such a thing until they had 
 rst removed the altar of pity (t'Aeoe). That equanimity 
 which renders man independent of outward things and truly free, 
 which enables him to fear nothing and to hope for nothing, he 
 considered the highest excellence that man can attain to. When 
 asked whether he thought the soul to be immortal, his answer 
 was, 1 es, but in the sense in which all things are immortal.”'j' 
 
 * Strabo, 1. XVI. c. 2. 
 
 t S f* e account of his life by Lucian. This remarkable mental 
 bias ol Demonax, so exclusively practical, moral, and rationalistic , so 
 cidedin its renunciation of all higher knowledge, so ready to spurn, 
 as fanaticism, all speculative or religious interest about any other world 
 

 
 14 VIEWS OF THE ELDER PLINY. 
 
 The elder Pliny, while absorbed in the contemplation of 
 nature, is lost in admiration of an immeasurable creative spirit, 
 who is beyond all human comprehension, and manifests himself 
 in his works. But his admiration of this exalted spirit of 
 the universe serves only to awaken, in tenfold strength, the 
 depressing sense of the finiteness and vanity of man’s nature. 
 He saw nothing to fill up the chasm betwixt feeble man and 
 that unknown, all-transcending spirit. Polytheism he re¬ 
 garded as the invention of human weakness. Since men were 
 incapable of grasping and retaining the whole conception of 
 perfect being, they separated it into many parts. They formed 
 for themselves divers ideals as objects of worship ; each making 
 himself a god suited to Ins own peculiar wants. “All religion 
 is the offspring of necessity, weakness, and fear. What God 
 is,—if in truth he be anything distinct from the world,—it is 
 beyond the compass of man’s understanding to know. But it 
 is a foolish delusion, springing from human weakness and 
 pride, to imagine that such an infinite spirit would concern 
 himself with the petty affairs of men.* It is difficult to say 
 whether it would not be better for men to be without religion 
 altogether than to have one of this kind, which is a reproach to 
 its object. The vanity of man, and his insatiable longing 
 after existence, have led him also to dream of a life after death. 
 A being full of contradictions, he is the most wretched of 
 creatures; since no other has wants transcending the bounds of 
 its nature. Man is full of desires and wants that reach to 
 infinity, and can never be satisfied. His nature is a lie,— 
 uniting the greatest poverty with the greatest pride. Among 
 such great evils, the greatest good that God has bestowed on 
 
 besides or above the present, may be still farther illustrated by several 
 of his sentiments which have been preserved in the collection of Johannes 
 Stobaeus. Thus, when asked if the world was animated, or of a spherical 
 shape, he replied, “ With much inconsistency you busy yourselves with 
 the order of natural things, while you give no thought to the disorder in 
 your own nature.” The play on the words is not translatable into 
 
 English. 'Tfi'7; Tig i p'iv tov Karpov ToXvTpccypovii'ri, Tig) Si ryjs iavruv 
 
 ixor/xia; ou ipoovri^in. Stobaei Eclogae, 1. II. c. I. 11, ed. Heeren, P. II. 
 p. 10. Two other sentences are contained in the Anthology of Stobaeus 
 on the noovroi and on uTigo^icc, and in Orelli’s Collection of the 
 Gnomographi graeci. 
 
 * Plin. Hist. Nat. 1. II. c. 4 et seq.; 1. VII. c. 1. Irridendum vero, 
 agere curam rerum humanarum illud, quidquid est summum. Annetam 
 tristi atque multiplici ministerio non pollui credamus dubitemusve? 
 
 
RETURN TO THE OLD RELIGION. 
 
 15 
 
 ' man is the power of taking his own life.” Sadness, mixed with 
 a cold resignation, is the prevailing tone that runs through 
 ! Pliny’s admirable work. It was in this temper that he 
 i proceeded to encounter the flames of Vesuvius, for the purpose 
 i of exploring their effects. 
 
 But, as the histoiy of this and of every age witnesses, there 
 is an undeniable religious need which clings to human nature ; 
 a need of recognising something above nature, and of fellowship 
 i with the same,'—which only asserts itself the more forcibly 
 i the longer it is repressed. The predominance of that worldly 
 bent of mind which will acknowledge nothing above nature 
 does but call forth, in the end, a stronger reaction of the long¬ 
 ing after the supernatural; the prevalence of an all-denying 
 unbelief invariably excites a more intense desire to be able to 
 believe. And the experience itself, which infidelity invariably 
 brings in its train, contributes to bring about this result. The 
 times in which infidelity has prevailed are, as histoiy teaches, 
 uniformly times of calamity; for the moral depravity which 
 accompanies unbelief necessarily undermines, also, the founda¬ 
 tions of earthly prosperity. Thus the period of the diffusion 
 of infidelity in the Roman state also witnessed the destruc¬ 
 tion of civil liberty, and the prevalence of public suffering, 
 under the rule of merciless despots. And outward distress 
 awakened a sense of inward desolation ; men were led to 
 regard their estrangement from the gods and from heaven 
 as a principal cause of the public decay and misery. 
 Many were driven to compare these times of public mis¬ 
 fortune with the flourishing period of the Roman republic, 
 and concluded this melancholy change ought to be ascribed 
 chiefly to the decline of the religio Romana , once so scrupu¬ 
 lously observed. In the gods, now cast off or neglected, they 
 saw the founders and protectors of the Roman empire. They 
 observed the mutual strife of the philosophical systems, which, 
 promising truth, did but multiply uncertainty and doubt. 
 All this excited a longing after some external authority, 
 which might serve as a stay for religious conviction ; and 
 they went back to the religion of their more fortunate an¬ 
 cestors, who, under the influence of that religion, found them¬ 
 selves so happy in the freedom from all doubt. That old 
 religion appeared to them, like the days of the past, sur¬ 
 rounded with a halo of glory. Such was the tone of feeling 
 
1G 
 
 PAUSANIAS ON UNBELIEF. 
 
 which set in to oppose, first, the prevailing infidelity—after¬ 
 wards, Clrristianity. 
 
 Thus, in the apologetic dialogue of Minucius Felix, the 
 pagan Caecilius describes, first of all, the strife and uncertainty 
 of the systems of philosophy ; shows how little reliance can be 
 placed on human things generally; and points to the doubts 
 in a providence which suggest themselves when we observe 
 the misfortunes of the virtuous and the prosperity of the 
 wicked. He then goes on to say, “ How much nobler and 
 better is it, then, to receive just what our fathers have taught 
 us as a sufficient guide to truth! to worship the gods which 
 we have been instructed by our fathers to reverence, even 
 before we could have any true knowledge of them ! to allow 
 ourselves, in regard to the divinities, no licence of private 
 judgment,—but to believe our ancestors, who, in the infancy 
 of mankind, near the birth of the world, were even considered 
 worthy of having the gods for their friends or for their kings ! ” 
 
 The need of some union with heaven, from which men felt 
 they were estranged, the dissatisfaction with a cold, melan¬ 
 choly present, procured a more ready belief for the accounts 
 which the mythical legends gave of a golden age wherein gods 
 and men lived together in closest communion. Ardent spirits 
 looked back to those times with a sort of earnest craving,—a 
 craving after the past, that pointed to the future. Thus Pau- 
 sanias* endeavours to defend the old mythical traditions 
 against the infidelity of his contemporaries ; accounting for 
 the latter partly from the fact that the true had been ren¬ 
 dered suspicious by being mixed up with the false, and in part 
 from the fact that men had grown accustomed to apply to 
 that more glorious period of wonders a standard which suited 
 none but the present times. Of those former days he says, 
 “ The men who lived then were, on account of their uprightness 
 and piety, received as the guests and even table-companions 
 of the gods; for their good actions the gods openly bestowed 
 honours on them, and, for their bad, openly manifested dis¬ 
 pleasure. It was then, also, that men themselves became gods, 
 an honour which they continue to enjoy.” But of his own time 
 he says, “ At the present day, when wickedness has reached its 
 highest pitch, and has spread over the country and to every 
 
 * In liis Description of Greece. See Arcadica, or 1. VIII. c. 2. s. 2. 
 
DIONYSIUS ON THE CARE OF THE GODS. 
 
 17 
 
 town, no such an event occurs; and a man no longer be¬ 
 comes a god, except merely in name, and through flattery 
 to power (the apotheosis of the emperors) ; and the anger of 
 the gods awaits transgressors at a remote period, and after 
 they are gone from this world.” Dionysius of Halicarnassus, 
 who, a few years before the birth of Christ, wrote a work on 
 the early history of Dome, relates the story of a vestal virgin, 
 whose innocence, after she had been falsely accused, w as mira¬ 
 culously brought to light. Upon this he remarks, “ The fol¬ 
 lowers of atheistic philosophies,—if philosophies they may be 
 called which scoff at all appearances of the gods that are said to 
 have occurred among the Greeks or Barbarians,—would make 
 themselves quite merry with these accounts, and ascribe them 
 to human exaggeration ; as if no one of the gods ever con¬ 
 cerned himself about a man, whoever he might be ; he, 
 however, who is not disposed absolutely to deny that the gods 
 do care for men, but believes that they regard the good with 
 complacency and the bad with displeasure, will look upon these 
 manifestations as not incredible.”* 
 
 The artificial faith in an old religion that had outlived itself 
 must, on that very account, become fanatical in the absence of 
 natural conviction, and will associate itself with passion. Hence 
 the violence by which it was attempted to maintain the ever- 
 waning course of paganism against the onward advance of 
 Christianity. Although the Romans, accustomed to adhere to 
 their old traditional forms and national peculiarities, were 
 singularly averse to foreign modes of worship, yet this funda¬ 
 mental trait in the old Roman character had at this date become 
 extinct with the majority. The ancient religion of Rome had 
 lost its power over the minds of men, and they were inclined, 
 therefore, to seek a prop for their religious faith in foreign 
 modes of worship. Ceremonies that wore an air of enigma and 
 mystery ; strange-sounding magical formulas in some barbarous 
 tongue (whereby, as Plutarch remarks, the national dignity of 
 devotion was put to the blush),f found readiest admittance. 
 As often happens in such cases, men were looking for some 
 peculiar supernatural power in that which they did not under¬ 
 stand, and which indeed was incapable of being understood. 
 
 * Antiq. Roman. II. 68. 
 
 t A-tovtois ovof/jxm xuii pr/ptairt ft>ccp{t>a.piKcli Ka.rxitr^vvuv steel ftctpoivcuAi'j rc 
 
 Suov r.tu srccrpiov rris tvmfiiiccs- De superst. C. 33. 
 
 VOD. I. 
 
 c 
 

 
 
 18 PLUTARCH OX INFIDELITY. 
 
 Consequently this artificial faith was necessarily driven to 
 assume the shape of superstition. Unbelief, against which an 
 undeniable need of man’s nature strongly asserted itself, called 
 forth superstition,—since these two distempered conditions 
 of the spiritual life are but opposite symptoms of the same 
 fundamental evil, of which the one passes easily into the 
 other. When once the inner life is become thoroughly 
 worldly, it either suppresses all religious feeling, and abandons 
 itself to infidelity ; or, blending itself with that feeling, gives 
 to it an interpretation of its own, and thus turns it to super¬ 
 stition. The desperation of unbelief surrenders the troubled 
 conscience a prey to superstition; and the hrationalitv ol 
 superstition makes religion suspected by the thoughtful mind. 
 Whenever we contemplate the period before us, we find such 
 an opposition presenting itself under various forms. A man 
 who was not in the habit of ridiculing, like Lucian, the absurd 
 extravagances of superstition, but who was saddened by the 
 contemplation of such cases of the denial or misapprehension 
 of the Godlike,—the wise and devout Plutarch,—in a beau¬ 
 tiful work of his, where he describes this opposition as it 
 existed in his own time,* presents us a picture, from the life, 
 of such caricatures of religion. “ To the superstitious man 
 every little evil is magnified by the scaring spectres of his 
 anxiety.t He looks on himself as a man whom the gods hate 
 and pursue with their anger. A far worse lot is before him ; 
 he dares not employ any means of averting or of remedying 
 the evil, lest he be found fighting against the gods. The physi¬ 
 cian, the consoling friend, are driven away. Leave me,—says 
 the wretched man,—me, the impious, the accursed, hated of the 
 gods, to suffer my punishment. He sits out of doors, wrapped 
 in sackcloth or in filthy rags ; ever and anon he rolls himself, 
 naked, in the dirt, confessing aloud this and that sin,’ and the 
 nature of these sins is truly characteristic !—“ he has eaten or 
 drunk something wrong,J—he has gone some way or other 
 which the divine being did not approve of. r ihe festivals in 
 honour of the gods give no pleasure to the superstitious,§ but 
 they fill him rather with fear and affright. He proves, in his 
 own case, the saying of Pythagoras to be false,—that we are 
 happiest when we approach the gods,—for it is just then that 
 
 * The tract Tlipi Ku-'i a&iornro;. t C a P- 
 
 t Comp. Coloss. 2, 16. § Cap. 9. 
 
SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY. 
 
 1 9 
 
 he is most wretched. Temples and altars are places of refuge 
 for the persecuted; but where all others find deliverance from 
 their fears, there the superstitious man most fears and trembles. 
 Asleep * or awake, he is haunted alike by the spectres 
 of his anxiety. Awake, lie makes no use of his reason ; and 
 asleep, he enjoys no respite from his alarms. His reason 
 always slumbers; his fears are always awake. Nowhere 
 can he find an escape from his imaginary terrors.” The con¬ 
 tradictions involved in superstition are thus described :— 
 Iliese men dread the gods, and fly to them for succour. 
 They flatter them, and insult them. They pray to them, and 
 complain of them.”f The offensive phrases and gesticulations, 
 the forms of self-abasement—so repulsive to the ancient feel¬ 
 ing of freedom—into which the slavish spirit of superstition 
 had fallen, were peculiarly revolting to the Greek and Roman 
 sense of propriety. 
 
 In the work already quoted Plutarch delivers the following 
 judgment on the connection between superstition and infidelity 
 —“ The infidel believes not in the gods ; the superstitious man 
 would fain disbelieve, but believes against his will, for he fears 
 to do otherwise. Yet as Tantalus wearies himself to escape 
 the stone that hangs over him, so the superstitious man would 
 gladly rid himself of the fear which is no trifling burden to 
 him ; and he is inclined to praise the unbeliever’s state of mind, 
 as freedom. But now, while the unbeliever has nothing in him 
 of superstition, the superstitious man, on the other hand, is an 
 unbeliever by inclination, but is too weak to think of the gods 
 as he would wish to do.§ The unbeliever contributes nothing 
 at all towards producing superstition ; but the superstitious 
 have, from the beginning, given occasion to unbelief, and, 
 whenever it exists, furnish it with an apparent justification.”|| 
 Manifestly, Plutarch has here taken a very partial view of 
 the religious phenomena of his times,—a natural mistake for 
 one living in the midst of them, and who was biassed in his 
 
 * Cap. 3. f Cap. 5. J Cap. II. 
 
 § In like manner, in another place, Plutarch says, that while, by the 
 prevailing false notions of the gods, the weaker and more simple natures 
 were led into a boundless superstition, acuter and bolder spirits were 
 hurried into unbelief;—according to the different turn which is taken 
 in the natural course of their development by the a./r§‘vl fft kcci axcLKOi; Oil 
 the one hand, and the iuvoripotg kou §(>a.<rvrz()oi$ on the other. De lside 
 et Osiride, c. 71. || Cap. 12. 
 
 C 2 
 
20 
 
 SUPERSTITION AND INFIDELITY. 
 
 judgment by immediate impressions. It seems evident, from 
 what has been already said, that the same cause which gives 
 rise to superstition, lies also at the root of unbelief; and"that 
 infidelity, therefore, may easily change into superstition, as 
 well as superstition into unbelief. Indeed, it was precisely 
 the latter which, in this period of history, had called forth the 
 former. Plutarch, moreover, has looked at these opposite 
 tendencies under too general and abstract a point of view; he 
 did not observe and take into his account those manifold gra¬ 
 dations and transitions in the mutual relation of unbelief and 
 superstition to each other, which in his own day he might 
 have discerned. If there was at that time a superstition, 
 leagued with immorality, which had its root in unbelief,—but 
 an unbelief restrained by fear,—we also find, in the case of 
 some who were really striving after moral worth, various modi¬ 
 fications of superstition, which fundamentally had their root in 
 the need—though not understood, and even misunderstood—of 
 believing;—the need of a redemption from the deep-felt discord 
 in their own nature. In order to lead such a need from super¬ 
 stition to faith, it was only necessary that the satisfaction uncon¬ 
 sciously sought should be furnished to it. This was the point 
 of religious development through which many were brought to 
 embrace Christianity as the remedy for the evil they felt. 
 
 And while Plutarch, biassed as he manifestly was by the 
 impression received from the revolting exhibitions of supersti¬ 
 tion, inclines, in the work above cited, to prefer unbelief to 
 superstition ; yet when he has occasion to attack an unbelief 
 that denies everything, he owns there is a kind of superstition 
 which he would prefer to infidelity. He says, for example, of 
 Epicureanism, which boasted of having delivered men from 
 the shadowy fears of superstition, “ It is better to have a feel¬ 
 ing of reverence mixed with fear, together with faith in the 
 gods, than, for the purpose of avoiding that feeling, to leave 
 one’s self neither hope nor joy, neither confidence in pros¬ 
 perity, nor in adversity access to the divine being.” * 
 
 That profound sense of disunion, of disruption, which gave 
 
 * B'Xrisv ycc£, ivtiord^uv tj tea) ruyKOKoolirShu rri orto', Sluv SaSjj xoivav 
 ctihiv; km Qofiou :raSs{, rj vov touto ttsvyovra; «.?) t tXsr/Sa, iavroig, 
 
 Qaotros ayaNfiuv rrcipovruv, Tiva, ^vtrTv^ovffiy ti-Tocrrpoipriy tfQof to 
 
 htoXi!* urSxi. In the tract: Non posse suaviter vivi secundum 
 Epicurum, c. 20. 
 
GREEK SYSTEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 21 
 
 birth to manifold kinds of superstition, revealed itself in those 
 forms of mental disease which so widely prevailed, where the 
 sufferers believed themselves to consist of two or more hostile 
 natures—to be possessed or persecuted by evil spirits. It was 
 through this ground-tone of the spiritual life that the system of 
 Dualism, which came from the East, found means of introducing 
 itself; and to this it owed its extraordinary influence in this a^e. 
 
 If now we glance at those directions of philosophical thought 
 among the Greeks, which, in this period, found most general 
 acceptance with men of earnest minds, two systems of philo¬ 
 sophy will offer themselves particularly to our notice_the 
 
 Stoical and the Platonic . 
 
 To begin with the Stoical: the old Roman character had felt 
 itself peculiarly attracted by the moral heroism to which the 
 principles of this philosophy led. To the noble pride of the 
 Roman, which refused to survive his country’s liberty, and in 
 the self-sufficing consciousness of this resolve bade defiance 
 to the corruption of the times, the doctrines of the stoical 
 school were peculiarly welcome. In the freedom and inde¬ 
 pendence of the sage, whose consciousness of an invincible 
 mind within placed him above the power of fate, the Roman 
 found a compensation for the loss of civil liberty. A natural 
 relationship existed between Stoicism and a mind like Cato’s. 
 The wise man felt conscious of an entire equality, in moral 
 elevation, with Jupiter himself. In his own mind he stood 
 below him in no respect.* He was master of his own life 
 and might take it whenever lie found he could no longer 
 li\ e in a manner worthy of himself. On this principle many 
 noble Romans acted, not only when they wished to escape 
 from the ignominy of despotism, but also when disease 
 cramped ^ their powers and rendered existence insupport- 
 able.f Thus many a strong mind found in this philo- 
 , *_See the words of Chrysippus: "Crn/. rZ a7', !«■’ 
 
 au ™ TS * ai rt f v-h a **' ti hr e Srt> s t,Wv, i^ auz ir, 
 
 TCO^v xa, fityaXnyop.7 ,, Qiei'ivn ftsyakvyotfaf Zuru <rc7; iy a %T; W, 
 
 'ra.v'rct w^ixrmu, X ar oudiv vpoixophus vvo Aits. Plutarch, de Stoicorum 
 repugnantns, c. 13 . 
 
 f For examples, cons. Pliny’s Letters, I. 12, 22. III. 7 . VI u.j 
 An old man of sixty-seven, lying under an incurable disease, dismissed 
 his physician, who wished to force him to take nourishment against 
 his will, with the word Ktxpixa. Upon this Pliny remarks,—Quse vox, 
 quantum admirationis in animo meo, tantum desiderii reliquit. The 
 following words ol Pliny serve to give distinct form and expression to 
 
22 
 
 STOICISM. 
 
 sophy the expression for that which he carried in his own 
 bosom ; and to many it imparted a moral enthusiasm which 
 enabled them to rise superior to the degeneracy of their 
 contemporaries. But there were many who did nothing more 
 than make an idle parade of the lofty maxims of the ancient 
 philosophers, with whose statues or basts they embellished 
 their halls, while their lives, abandoned to every vice, pre¬ 
 sented the strongest contrast with these noble models.* 
 
 As to the relation which Stoicism held to the popular religion, 
 it was the aim of the former, by an allegorical explanation, to 
 bring the latter into harmony with a thoroughly pantheistic 
 view of the world.f The Jupiter of Stoicism was not a being 
 who governs all things with paternal love, and for whom each 
 individual has a distinct end to fulfil. He was not one who, 
 in his plans, reconciles the good of the whole with the good of 
 the individual: on the contrary, he was a being who devours 
 his own children—the Universal Spirit from which all indivi¬ 
 dual existence has flowed, and into which, after certain 
 periods, it is again resolved. The gods themselves were sub¬ 
 ject to the universal law of this eternal cycle, to which every 
 individual existence must finally be sacrificed.| The law, or 
 word of Zeus, providence, fate,§ all in this system signify the 
 same thing—that unchangeable law of the universe, that 
 immanent necessity of reason, which all must obey. Evil 
 itself is necessary, according to this law, as being designed to 
 be subservient to the manifestation of the harmony of the world, 
 since without it there could be no good.|| The wise man calmly 
 
 the principle of the age, that left the decision of life and death to the 
 autonomy of reason Deliberare et causas mortis expendere utque suaserit 
 ratio, vitae mortisque consilium suscipere vel ponere, ingentis est animi. 
 
 * Qui Curios simulant Bacchanalia vivunt, 
 
 Indocti primum: quanquam plena omnia gypso 
 Chrysippi invenies.—Juvenal. Satira II. 
 
 f Lucian quotes, in the way of banter, the motto of the stoic pan¬ 
 theism : 'fij xai o Bios oux. £V oipav'ji eariv, akka Oia Tavraiy TiipoiTtixiy, oiot 
 \vkuv, xa ! klBwv, xai £ow&iv, dy'01 xa) rav utiUiOtutu'). Hermotin. § 81. 
 
 } As Chrysippus says in his work, TUp) orpovoias ,—Tow A la ailVurBai, /alxf‘s 
 av us ub tov cL'xv.vtu. xuTavuXuiux. Plutarch. do Stoicorum rcpuguuntiis, c. 39. 
 
 § A/of k'oyos , orjovo/a, ilftagpoivn. 
 
 II Thus Chrysippus says, Tiyirat xa) al)TV\ (ri xax'ia) TTUS XO.TCC too t?,; 
 tpiuiw; Xcyov y.u.'i IV ovr/n; ii'oroi, olx o.Xpr,TTas yivircu ru oka, ooti yap 
 
 r dyuBu ^v. Plutarch, de Stoicor. repugnantiis, c. 35. 
 
STOICISM. 
 
 23 
 
 contemplates the game, and cheerfully surrenders his indi¬ 
 vidual existence to the claims of the whole—to which every 
 individual, as a part, must at once yield. The wise man has 
 precisely the same divine life with Zeus, from whom his own 
 has flowed. Calmly submissive, when the fated hour arrives 
 lie gives it back to its original source. 
 
 A cold resignation this, wholly at variance with man’s 
 natural feelings, and altogether different from the childlike 
 submission of the Christian, which leaves inviolate every 
 purely human feeling—a submission, not to an iron necessity 
 that decrees annihilation, but to an eternal love which returns 
 whatever is offered to it, transfigured and glorified. The 
 emperor Marcus Aurelius says of this Stoical principle, 
 “ The man of disciplined mind will reverently say to Nature, 
 who bestows all tilings, and resumes them again to herself, 
 ‘ G ive what thou wilt, and take what thou wilt.’ ” This he 
 says in no haughty defiance of Nature, but in the spirit of 
 cheerful obedience.* His Stoicism, moreover, was tempered 
 and refined by a certain childlike piety, a certain gentleness 
 and unpretending simplicity of character. But with what 
 grounds of comfort does he strive to still the craving implanted 
 in man’s nature after an imperishable personal existence ? 
 Let us hear what he says himself. “ Two things we should 
 consider: first, that, from all eternity, things are repeated 
 after the same manner, and that it matters not whether one 
 beholds the same thing again in one hundred or two hundred 
 years, or in countless periods; next, that he who lives longest 
 and he who dies soonest are equally losers, for each loses only 
 that which he has the present moment.” (II. 14.) “ Ever 
 
 keep in mind that whatever happens, and is yet to happen, 
 has already been; it is merely the same show repeated.” 
 (10, 27.) u An action terminating at the allotted moment 
 sutters no evil in that it has terminated ; and he that did it 
 suffers no evil in that he has ceased to act. So also the whole, 
 consisting of the aggregate sum of actions, which is life, when 
 it terminates at the allotted time has suffered no evil in that 
 it lias terminated ; and he who, at the allotted time, has brought 
 up the whole chain to the end, has lost nothing.” (12, 23.) 
 He asks (12, 5), “ How happens it that the gods, who have 
 
 * Monolog. 10, 14. 
 
24 
 
 STOICISM — PLATONISM. 
 
 ordered all things well and in love to men, seem to overlook 
 this one thing alone, that many very good men, who, by pious 
 works and offerings, have stood on terms of intimate communion 
 with the Deity, having once died, return no more to existence, 
 but perish entirely ? ” He answers thus : “ Although this is 
 so, yet be assured, that if it ought to have been otherwise, the 
 gods would have so ordered it. For had it been right, it 
 would also have been possible ; and had it been in harmony 
 with nature, then nature would have allowed it. That it is not 
 so, if it is not so, should satisfy us that it ought not to be so.” 
 
 As Stoicism, by repressing a want inseparable from the 
 essence of man’s nature, tended, on the one hand, to awaken 
 the longing after a revelation capable of satisfying this want; 
 so, on the other hand, by unfolding in man the consciousness 
 of his relationship to the divine—that truth which lies at the 
 bottom of pantheism*-—by the idea, however pantheistically 
 apprehended, of one original Divine Being, and of the spi¬ 
 rituality of his worship, as confined to no particular place 
 (which idea it opposed to the polytheistic religion of the 
 people!)—it prepared the way for Christianity. 
 
 But a far greater, more deep-reaching, and more universal 
 influence on the religious life of man’s spirit than it was ever 
 in the power of Stoicism to exert, was destined to proceed from 
 the Platonic philosophy. It dates its beginning from that 
 man who appears to us as the forerunner of a higher develop¬ 
 ment of humanity, as the greatest man of the ancient world— 
 one in whom the spirit of that world, going beyond itself, 
 strove after a more glorious future,—from Socrates , whose 
 
 * Thus, for instance, Paul, in his discourse at Athens, appeals to the 
 testimony to such a consciousness given by the verse of Aratus ; and much 
 of a similar import is to be found in the hymn of Cleanthes, and in other 
 outpourings of the Stoical muse. Compare the well-known passage in 
 Seneca, Non sunt ad ccelum elevandte manus nec exorandus asdituus, ut 
 nos ad aures simulacri, quasi magis exaudiri possimus, admittat, prope 
 est a te Deus, tecum est, intus est. Ita dico, sacer intra nos spiritus 
 sedet. Ep. 41 ad Lucil. 
 
 f Compare the passage from Seneca with the words of Zeno: “ We 
 should build no temple to the gods; for a temple is of little worth, and 
 nothing holy,—a work of architects and common labourers is not worth 
 much. ]ipa. Q'u>v (/. 7\ oiKobofiziv' izpov yap pc.7] oXXou kcc) czyicv ovk ZffTiv' 
 o'ixohofjLu'/ S' tpyov xa] (bavaiauv ovllv itrn voXXou Hence Plutarch re¬ 
 
 proaches the Stoics with self-contradiction, in participating in the reli¬ 
 gious rites of the temple. Plut. de Stoicorum repugnantiis, c. 6. 
 
PLATONISM. 
 
 ‘2d 
 
 whole life seems invested in a mystery and riddle corre¬ 
 sponding to his prophetic character. As in the first violent 
 reaction of reason, when, having become altogether worldly, 
 it turned against all religious and moral belief, it was his high 
 vocation to oppose this worldly tendency and heartless dialec¬ 
 tical caprice, which sought to subvert all higher interests, and. 
 while he bore witness to the reality of that in which alone the 
 spirit can find its true life, to awaken in men wholly immersed 
 in earthly things that aspiration after the godlike which might 
 lead them to Christ; so through his great disciple Plato,— 
 who, with a truly original and creative mind, reproduced, in 
 his philosophy, the image of Socrates, though not indeed in all 
 the lofty simplicity of the man himself, — the influence of 
 Socrates, working to the same end, has been often experienced 
 in those great crises of man’s history which were destined, by 
 the dissolution of the old, to prepare the way for a new cre¬ 
 ation. As one who lived in a crisis of this sort has said,* 
 the Platonic Socrates, like John tfle Baptist, was a forerunner 
 of Christ. This was preeminently true, so far as it relates 
 to the first manifestation of Christ to the whole world. 
 
 The Platonic philosophy did not, like the Stoical, merely 
 lead men to the conscious sense of a divine indwelling life, and 
 of an immanent reason in the world, answering to the idea of 
 the Stoical Zeus ; but it led them to regard the divine as supra- 
 mundane, as an unchangeable existence, transcending that 
 which merely becomes ; a supreme spirit, exalted above the 
 world, if not as a Creator unconditionally free, yet at least as 
 the architect of the universe. It awakened, also, a conscious¬ 
 ness of the supernatural and divine, which in man is the efflux 
 from this supreme Spirit, and of a kindred nature with it; so 
 that man is thereby enabled to rise and have a fellowship with 
 and a recognition of it. It did not, as the Stoical philosophy 
 did when followed out to its legitimate consequences, represent 
 the divine in man as a selfsubsistent element, an efflux from 
 the divine source, which, as long as the form of personal 
 manifestation lasted, could maintain an existence by itself—so 
 that Zeus appeared to the wise man simply as the ideal of 
 wisdom which he was to strive after: but it contemplated the 
 divine in man as a ray which conducted him back to the. 
 primal light itself—merely as recipient faculty, which becomes 
 
 * Marsiglio Ficino. 
 
26 
 
 PLATONISM. 
 
 powerless so soon as it is separated from communion with the 
 original source, from which alone it can receive strength. 
 
 Compared with the principle of ethical ^/^-sufficiency_ 
 
 with that elevation of the feeling of self peculiar to the ancient 
 world, and which appears to have reached its highest point in 
 Stoicism—the Platonic system, as founded on that mode of 
 view which we have just described, was distinguished by a 
 tendency towards that which is most directly opposed to that 
 principle, the Christian idea, viz., of humility. The word 
 -cnreu'oc, which, according to the general sentiments of the 
 ancient world, was employed, for the most part, in a bad sense, 
 as indicating a slavish self-debasement,* is to be met with in 
 Plato and the Platonists as the designation of a pious, vir¬ 
 tuous temper, -f* 
 
 Ihis philosophy would have us recognise in man’s person¬ 
 ality, not a mere transitory appearance, but a something destined 
 to higher development. Phe life of the individual was regarded 
 by it not as an aimless sport in the periodical changes of the 
 universe, but as a stage of purifying discipline and of prepara¬ 
 tion for a higher state of existence. It did not demand the sup¬ 
 pression of any purely human want, but taught that the satisfac¬ 
 tion of all such wants ought to be sought and waited for. It 
 pointed to a higher stage of being, where the soul, disencum 
 bered of its dross, would attain to the clear vision of truth. 
 
 Certainly it was in no sense the general drift and purpose 
 of Plato to set up an abstract religion of reason, in opposition 
 to the existing forms of worship ; but he took his stand rather 
 in opposition to that exclusive enlightenment of the under¬ 
 standing which was peculiar to the Sophists, and which merely 
 analyses and destroys. His religious speculations rested on 
 a basis altogether historical. He connected himself with the 
 actual phenomena of religious life, and with the traditions 
 lying before him; as we see in his remarks on the doctrine of 
 
 * Even in Aristotle we find the raaruvi» united with the 
 Ethic. Eudem. III. 3. 
 
 t To denote the disposition of submissiveness to the divine law of 
 order in the universe, the word r««/viv is used in connection with xinmr- 
 fJjflUjiVOV , and opposed to the impious spirit of self-exaltation. De legibus, 
 IV. vol. VIII. ed. Bipont. p. 1S5; and Plutarch (de sera mnninis Yin- 
 dicta, c, III.) says of the humiliation of the wicked brought about by 
 punishment yj xcikix fjjoXig av yivoiro truvvous Tic&i Tctvruvr] kou Ku.Ta.(po(bo5 
 
 rov Siov. 
 
PLATONISM. 
 
 27 
 
 the gods and on divination. He sought to embody in his spe¬ 
 culations the truth which lay at the bottom of all this, and to 
 separate it from all admixture of superstition. And, in like 
 manner, this general drift of a positive philosophy * that sought 
 to understand history, passed over, from the original Platonism, 
 to the derivative Platonism of this age ; and, to speak generally, 
 in this latter form the tendency of the original Platonism may, 
 in spite of all foreign additions, be clearly recognised under 
 every new modification. It still continued to be its aim to trace 
 throughout liistory the vestiges of a connection between the 
 visible and invisible worlds, between the divine and the human, 
 and to discover, in the great variety of religious traditions-)- and 
 modes of worship, different forms of one revelation of the divine. 
 
 In opposition to infidelity, which appealed to the strife 
 between different religions as a presumption of the falsehood 
 of all, an apologetic tendency, which flowed from Platonism, 
 pointed out the higher unity which lay at the root of this 
 diversity. The coincidence of ideas in the different forms of 
 revelation was by it made available, as evidence for the truth. 
 Thus the effort to come to an understanding of history, to 
 arrive at some comprehensive view which might reconcile the 
 oppositions of historical development, gave birth to a peculiar 
 religious and philosophical eclecticism. And such phenomena 
 are usually found marking the conclusion of every great series 
 of historical evolutions. Arrived at the limits of such a series, 
 man feels disposed once more to look over the whole, which 
 with all its parts now lies unfolded before him as one; just as 
 the traveller, near the end of his journey, gladly pauses to sur¬ 
 vey the road he has left behind him. 
 
 By distinguishing form from essence, the spiritual from the 
 sensual, the idea from the symbol which served for its repre¬ 
 sentation, it was deemed possible to find the just medium 
 between the extremes of superstition and unbelief, and to 
 arrive at a right understanding of the different forms of 
 religion. The devout and profoundly meditative Plutarch, 
 who wrote near the close of the first century, may be con- 
 
 * To avail myself of an expression which Schelling, in the new 
 shaping of his philosophy, has made classical —positive philosophy, as 
 opposed to the mere logical science of reason, negative philosophy. 
 
 t Svvxyiiv urropav, oiov ukrjv <pi?^oim<pias Stokoylecv riko; Do 
 
 defectu oraculorum, c. 2. 
 
28 
 
 PLATONISM. 
 
 sidered the representative of this direction of mind in religious 
 speculation, which in his day was fully developed. He thus 
 expresses himself on the relation of different religions to one 
 another :* “ As sun and moon, sky, earth, and sea, are common 
 to all, while they have different names among different nations ; 
 so likewise, though there is but one system of the world which 
 is supreme, and one governing providence whose ministering 
 powers are set over all men, yet the laws of different nations 
 have given to them different names and modes of worship; 
 and though the holy symbols severally employed by these 
 nations were not all equally obscure, still all alike failed 
 of being perfectly safe guides for the contemplation of the 
 divine. For some men, wholly mistaking their import, fell 
 into superstition; while others, in avoiding the quagmire 
 of superstition, plunged unawares into the opposite gulf 
 of infidelity.” A reverential regard for a higher necessity 
 in the religious institutions of mankind, a recognition of 
 a province elevated above human caprice, is avouched by 
 Plutarch in the following remark, where he confronts the 
 Stoics with a phrase from an Orphic hymn, which was often 
 on their lips, as a motto for their pantheism :-j-—“ As Zeus is 
 the beginning - and centre of all—everything has sprung from 
 Zeus—man’s first duty is to correct and improve his ideas 
 of the gods, if anything impure or wrong has found its way 
 into them. But if this is beyond his power, he should then 
 leave every one to follow that opinion which lie has received 
 from the laws and religious traditions of his country.” In proof 
 that a higher necessity lies at the foundation of such insti¬ 
 tutions, Plutarch here quotes the words of Sophocles, as wit¬ 
 nessing to an innate and eternal law in the heart of humanity 
 (Antig. 467) : “ The divine—religion—is something imperish¬ 
 able ; but its forms are subject to decay. God bestows many 
 good things on men, but nothing imperishable ; for, as Sopho¬ 
 cles says, even the rites of the gods are subject to death.”J 
 
 It filled Plutarch’s mind with sadness to think of those who 
 took part in public worship from no other motive than respect to 
 
 * See de Iside et Osiride. 
 
 f Zib; Zib; ftitrffu., A ii; 3 ix iranra. rl'rvKTOU. Adv. StOlC. C. 31. 
 
 J TIcWa xciXa rov thou bibovro; avSpcdVoi;, iSavarov 3s fiyibiv' uvti 
 kcc'i ™ Siu>, Slot/; 3s ov xarcc rov ZofoxAici. De defectu Oracu- 
 lorum, c. 9. 
 
NEW PLATONISM—PLUTARCH. 
 
 29 
 
 the multitude, while in their own hearts they looked upon it as a 
 mere farce. “ Out of fear of the many they hypocritically mimic 
 the forms of prayer and adoration ; repeat words that contradict 
 tlieii philosophical convictions ; and, when they offer sacrifice 
 see in the priest only the slaughtering cook.”* He rebukes 
 those who, following the fashion of Euemerus, and attempting 
 to explain everything in the doctrine of the gods after a natural 
 way, wage war with the religious convictions of so many na¬ 
 tions and races of men, while they seek to draw down the 
 names of heaven to earth, and almost to banish all the religious 
 belief that is implanted in man from his birth.f IIe°sees 
 men going astray between these two extremeseither con¬ 
 founding the symbol with what it was designed to represent 
 and thus giving rise to superstition—as, for instance, when 
 the names of the gods are transferred to their images, so that 
 the multitude are led to believe that these images were them¬ 
 selves gods, in the same way as, in Egypt, the animals conse¬ 
 crated to the gods had become confounded with the latter ;± 
 —or else running into the opposite views, which, being occa¬ 
 sioned by these errors, result in infidelity. 
 
 If the way in which Plutarch explains and contemplates 
 the opposition between superstition and unbelief shows, when 
 applied to the phenomena of his own time, an inadequate and 
 partial view of the subject, this must be attributed to that 
 fundamental view, belonging to the essence of the Platonic 
 plnlosophy, according to which, in religion, everythin^ is 
 referred to the intellectual element—to knowledge; while 5 the 
 deeper practical ground of religious conviction, and of the 
 religious life,—their connection with the moral bent of the 
 affections,—is overlooked. Accordingly, Plutarch considers 
 the mam source both of superstition and infidelity to be an 
 intellectual error—in the former of a positive, in the latter of 
 a negative kind; only, in the case of superstition, there is, 
 moreover, a certain moral affection, which, arising out of those 
 erroneous^ notions of the gods, reduces them simply into 
 objects of fear.§ But he does not seem to have perceived 
 
 * See Plutarch’s tract: Non 
 
 C, 22 . 
 
 t De Iside et Osiride, c. 23. 
 
 S H /&iv oL^ioTn; Xoyo; lev* < 
 iyytyivr,[*.ivov. c. 2. 
 
 posse suaviter vivi secundum Epicurum 
 t L. c. c. 71. 
 
 n Si Siitrilaifiovla cr u$c; tKXoyou 
 
30 
 
 NEW PLATONISM—PLUTARCH. 
 
 that a wttSoc is the foundation of many forms of unbelief, as 
 well as of superstition ; and that both disorders of the spiritual 
 life have their proper seat in the direction of the moral affec¬ 
 tions, in the disposition; that therefore the wdS-oe is usually 
 the original cause of the evil, but the intellectual error only a 
 secondary and symptomatic feature of it. Accordingly, it was 
 to an erroneous conception of the gods that Plutarch ascribed 
 the way in which the superstitious think of them as wrathful 
 and vindictive ; but he could understand such a stage of reli¬ 
 gious development well enough to recognise the truth on which 
 it is founded, viz. that it is only in this relation that the gods 
 can be represented to the religious consciousness of one who 
 feels himself estranged from God. Hence also he erroneously 
 supposed that nothing more is necessary for the recovery of the 
 superstitious man, than simply to lead him by an intellectual 
 process to a true knowledge of the gods, and ot the fact that, 
 good only, and nothing that is evil, proceeds from them, for 
 he failed to perceive that such an idea of the gods might itself 
 be nothing else than a reflection of the superstitious man’s own 
 mental state, which therefore could only be got rid of by an 
 immediate operation on the nature of the man himself. This 
 error, again, was in some degree connected with another : for 
 although against the Stoics he defended the Platonic doctrine 
 of retribution,* as a necessary means of man’s reformation, 
 and of purifying and deterring him from evil, and wrote a 
 treatise expressly to vindicate the divine justice in punishing 
 the wicked,t yet he was only too much a stranger to that con¬ 
 ception of God’s holiness, and to that sense of man’s sinfulness 
 as grounded in and intimately connected with it, which belong 
 to the Theism of the Old Testament. Hence, the Old Testa¬ 
 ment idea of God, as the Holy one, as viewed from his own 
 Platonic position, must have been unintelligible to him; and 
 it is nothing strange if he failed to discover in Judaism the 
 right notion of God’s goodness.} 
 
 * Against Chrysippus, for instance, who puts this doctrine on a level 
 with the stories with which old women frighten the children ; To» vij i 
 tui'j u'nO Qtou tcoXaaiutv \oyav, us auoiv isiatytpovra ms Axxous kui ms AA$i~St'S, 
 Si’ uv ra -jratba^ta. rou xa.xo<r%oX‘ 7 v at yuttatxis avitoyovan. L)e StOlCOrum 
 repugnantiis, c. 15. 
 
 t His work on the Delay of Divine Punishments. 
 
 J De Stoicorum repugnantiis, c. 38, where he refers to the example of 
 
NEW PLATONISM—PLUTARCH. 
 
 31 
 
 It was the purpose, then, of this apologetic and reforming 
 philosophy of religion, to counteract infidelity as well as super¬ 
 stition, by setting forth the ideal matter contained in the old 
 religions. From this position and with this object in view, 
 Plutarch, in his hortatory discourse to a priestess of Isis,* thus 
 remarks: “ As it is not his long beard and mantle that makes 
 the philosopher, so is it neither a linen robe nor a shaven head 
 that makes the priest of Isis. But the true priest of Isis is he 
 who first of all receives from the laws the rites and customs 
 pertaining to the gods, and then examines into their grounds, 
 and philosophizes on the truth they contain.” With some pro¬ 
 foundness of meaning, Plutarch compares the old myths,— 
 considered as representations of the ideas which have resulted 
 from a refraction of the divine light by some foreign substance, 
 a reappearance of it after having been broken by the inter¬ 
 vention of some heterogenous medium,—to the rainbow as a 
 refraction of the sun’s light, f 
 
 We find here the first beginnings of an attempt to reconcile 
 the natural and supernatural in religion; to adjust the position 
 of the rationalist with that of the supra-naturalist, the scientific 
 interest with the religious; — tendencies and ideas which, 
 advancing beyond the position maintained by the old religions 
 of Nature, stepped forward to meet the Theism of reve¬ 
 lation. And it was by such means alone that a reconciliation 
 could be effectually brought about, and a true understanding 
 of the religious development of humanity become possible. 
 
 Plutarch distinguishes two different stages or positions of 
 knowledge—that which remounts directly to the divine caus- 
 ality, and that which dwells on the natural causes which serve 
 the former as its instruments. “ The ancients,” he says, 
 << ‘ directed their attention simply to the divine in phenomena, 
 since God is the beginning and centre of all, and from him 
 all things proceed. They overlooked natural causes. The 
 
 the Jews to prove that the conception of the gods as %{*trroi was by no 
 means to he found everywhere. And here we may remark that we 
 would not deny the Jews themselves were partly in fault for the diffusion 
 of such representations of their religion. 
 
 ,* T 'hiix.mfj.ila. 'fr/>w{&ivu. vripi rou; S-toug rourovs, orav vo/uw •x’xpetXcc/iti) 
 Xoytu Z,nToiv xa) <fH\offo<paii •rspl tv; ki auToi; dX-/)S -lias. C. 3. 
 
 t 0/ pcaStifta -ixoi r>j y ’,p, v epapamv inai rov vXiov Xiyavm 
 
 r >i vrgoj to vitpt; civa^wpvini TVS o^plug, otlrej; o /x.u9os Xoyou tivo; ’t//.(pxcri; 
 
 ttrnv ivaxXvvros It’ «xx« tyim 'hta.iota.i. De Iside et Osiride, C. 20. 
 
32 
 
 NEW PLATONISM—PLUTARCH. 
 
 moderns, neglecting altogether the divine ground of things, 
 suppose that everything can be explained by natural causes. 
 Both these views, however, in and by themselves are alike 
 partial and defective; and the right understanding of the 
 matter requires that both should be combined.”* In attempt¬ 
 ing to show how a natural phenomenon may be a sign of the 
 future, he says, “ Divination and Piiysics may both be right.; 
 one may serve to point out the causes which have brought 
 about a phenomenon; the other to discover the higher end 
 which it is intended to subserve.”f “ They who suppose that 
 the significancy of signs is nullified by the discovery of natural 
 causes, forget that their argument against the signs ot the 
 o-ods apply also to those invented by human art; since in the 
 fatter case, too, one thing is made by human contrivance to 
 serve as the sign of another ; lights, for example, to serve as 
 beacons, sun-dials to indicate time, and the like.” 
 
 This distinction of the natural from the divine, in a matter, 
 however, which was the joint work of both, was employed in a 
 remarkable manner by Plutarch, for the purpose of so defend¬ 
 ing the divinity of the oracles, as to avoid, at the same time, 
 alf superstitious representations. While some were of opinion 
 that the god himself dwelt in the prophetess at the Delphic 
 shrine, and, employing her as his blind instrument, spoke 
 through her mouth and suggested every word she uttered; 
 others took advantage of tins opinion, and, ridiculing the 
 doctrine of such a divine influence on the human soul, 
 and the very idea of inspiration, turned the whole into 
 iest.i They laughed at the bad verses of the Pythoness, 
 and inquired why it was that the oracles, once gh en in 
 
 * “O Sty auparigeie o X&yoi ivhns tou ■t^xovtIs hr<ri, rois fata vo 2< au kcu 
 1$’ au, to7s 2s to wv xci) 2,’ uv iyaoovaty » vrapaXu'araumv. De detectU 
 
 oraculorum, c. 47. , , v , - . 
 
 + ’ExaXus 2’ ovhtv KCU Toy puTixay i mruyxuyuy xea rov ftavriy, tou fity jnv 
 alrlccy, toZ 2s to TtXo; xoaXUs UXeorfdyoyTos’ utUuto yap t V ft sv s* civoov 
 ylyayi »1 or£? orlpuxt, tu 2s vrpas ti yiyoyt xcu Toi; oripuKi 
 
 Pericles c« 7« 
 
 t The sarcasm in Lucian's dialogue, Z tu; iXtyxoptyo;, may serve as an 
 example. “ What the poets say, when possessed by the Muses, is true. 
 But when forsaken by the goddesses, and left to sing for themselves, 
 they are at a loss, and contradict what they had said before; so that 
 one must excuse them if they perceive not the truth as men, when the 
 agency has left them which had previously dwelt m them, and by 
 which they invented.” 
 
XEW PLATONISM—PLUTARCH. 
 
 33 
 
 poetry, were now conveyed in prose. But Plutarch sought 
 to combine a recognition of the divine causality with an 
 acknowledgment ot the human individuality which served it 
 as an organ By distinguishing in the oracles the divine ele¬ 
 ment and the human, he attempted in this case also to deter¬ 
 mine the just medium between superstition and infidelity 
 V/ e are not to believe,” says he, “ that the god makes the 
 ■\ eises, but that, after he has communicated the moving- im¬ 
 pulse each prophetess is moved in the way that most Trees 
 with her peculiar nature.* For let us suppose the oracles 
 were not spoken, but delivered in writing; we should not, I 
 imagine, in that case, ascribe to the god the strokes of the 
 letters, and find fault with him because the writing was not so 
 beautiful as that of the imperial edicts. Neither the language 
 nor the tone, nor the expression, nor the measure of tl/verse’ 
 proceeds from the god ; all this comes from the woman The 
 god simply communicates the intuitions, and kindles up a liM t 
 in the soul with regard to the future.”^ “ As the body uses 
 many organs, and the soul uses both the body and its pahs as 
 
 ?od‘ lUS put thl U1 I- 18 1I1Stance becomes the organ of the 
 go . But the fitness of an organ consists in its answering, l«y 
 
 its own natural powers, the purpose of him who employs it as 
 
 the means of representing his ideas. This, however, it cannot 
 
 o purely and without adulteration. It cannot represent 
 them as they exist in their author’s mind. Much fore An mat 
 ter is necessarily mixed up with them.”} «If it i s impossible ” 
 he says afterwards, “to force lifeless things, which remain 
 unchanged, to uses which contradict their natural character— 
 
 /f mStanc f’ canno * be P%ed as a flute, or a 
 t u npet as a harp ; so long as the artistic use of a particular 
 
 it S 1i™ulbrT f P T ly - ln ' itS being USed confo ™ably to 
 f behii L CT 7 hGn S 18 reall y "possible to say how 
 
 reason g can bT SSe H °5 & SOul u endovved with free will and 
 ieason , Cdn be used otherwise than agreeably to the character 
 power, or nature which dwelt in 11 , 11 " before/' So, according 
 to this view the difference of the several individualities of 
 chaiacter, and of the sey eral modes of culture, will invariably 
 
 *' E T‘ U 7 *»»«», hl,Vo,rc S , 4 - \ K i crert ^ 
 
 vr°o<pr,7^wv. De Pythicc oraculis, c. 7 . ^ 
 
 v J -De Pytbiac oraculis, c. 21. 
 
 V OX*. X. 
 
 'vki x,u/u<7§ou 
 
 
34 
 
 NEW PLATONISM. 
 
 show themselves in the mode of manifestation which the 
 inspiring agency of the divine causality assumes in each in¬ 
 stance The several peculiarities of such states of enthusiasm 
 (evOovo-iaauog) he considers to arise from the conflict of the 
 two tendencies,—the movement imparted from without, and 
 that belonging to the proper nature of the individual; just as, 
 when a body”falls by the law of gravitation to the earth, a 
 curvilinear motion is at the same time communicated to it. 
 
 By this speculative mode of apprehending the popular reli- 
 o-ion men would be led, moreover, to reduce Polytheism to 
 some higher unity as its root. The recognition of an original 
 unity being a thing absolutely necessary for reason, Poly¬ 
 theism either proceeded out of that unity, or must be carried 
 back to it. Polytheism felt itself continually impelled to 
 derive the multitude of its gods from one original essence. 
 Now the speculative mode of apprehension could not fail to 
 develop the consciousness of this unity, and to render it still 
 more distinct, and at the same time to exhibit clearly the rela¬ 
 tion of the manifold to the one. Thus had Plato long before 
 souo-ht to reduce Polytheism to some such higher unity, and 
 had°derived all existence “ from the Creator and Father of the 
 Universe, who is hard to find, and whom, when found, it is 
 impossible to make known to all.”* And now also, m the 
 same way, this new philosophy of religion rose to the idea of 
 one simple original essence, exalted above all plurality and all 
 becoming; the only true Being ; unchangeable, eternal ;t from 
 whom all existence in its several gradations has emanated— 
 the world of gods, as nearest akin to himself, being first and at 
 the head of all. In these gods, that perfection, which in the 
 Supreme essence was enclosed and unevolved, is expanded, amt 
 becomes knowable. They serve to exhibit in different forms 
 the imao-e of that Supreme essence, to which no one can rise 
 except by the loftiest flight of contemplation, and after it has 
 rid itself" from all that pertains to sense—from all mamfold- 
 ness. They are the mediators between man (amazed and 
 stup'ified by manifoldness) and the Supreme Unity. A fur¬ 
 ther distinction was also made between the purely spi¬ 
 ritual, invisible deities, and those in nearer contact with the 
 
 * In Timecus. , , . » » 
 
 f El; <2 v £W TU wi TO il) xa) fOOVOV \UTl TO XU.TCO TOVTOV tVTU{ 0». 
 
 Plutarch, de il apud Delphos, c. 20. 
 
VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE DEITIES. 
 
 35 
 
 world of sense, by whom the life radiating from the Supreme 
 essence is diffused over the world of sense, and the divine 
 ideas, as far as is possible, realized in it. These were the 
 manifest gods; * the gods in the process of becoming; the 
 deoi yerrtroi in contradistinction from the u>y ; the spirits 
 who, according to Plato, animate the worlds. In this way 
 was it contrived to maintain fast the position of the old 
 natural religion, which confined itself to the intuitions of 
 nature, and to unite it to the recognition of a supreme 
 original essence, and of an invisible spiritual world, to which 
 man s spirit strove to ascend from the sensuous things that had 
 hitherto enslaved it. Accordingly there resulted two different 
 stages of religion—that of the multitude, with minds amazed at, 
 and taken up with, the manifold, who occupied themselves with 
 none but those mediate deities who were less remote from 
 them ; and that of the spiritual men, living in contemplation, 
 who rise above all that is sensuous, and soar upwards to the 
 supreme original essence. Hence again arose two different 
 positions in respect to divine worship—the purely spiritual posi¬ 
 tion, which suited to the relation of the original essence, as 
 exalted above all contact with the sensible world ; and that of 
 sensuous worship, which is adapted to the relation of those gods 
 who are more closely connected with the world of sense. It 
 is from tins point of view that the following remark is made 
 in the work on £ Offerings,’ which is usually quoted as the 
 work of Apollonius of Tyana: “We shall render the most 
 appropriate worship to the deity, when to that God whom we 
 call The First , wdio is one and separate from all, and after 
 whom we recognise the others, we present no offerings what¬ 
 ever ; kindle to him no fire, dedicate to him no sensible thing; 
 for he needs nothing, even of* all that natures more exalted 
 than ours could give. The earth produces no plant, the air 
 nourishes no animal, there is in short nothing, which would 
 not be impure in his sight. In addressing ourselves to him, 
 we must use only the higher Word,—that, I mean, which 
 is not expressed by the mouth,—the silent inner word of 
 the spirit.” Even prayer, expressed in words, he would 
 say, is beneath the dignity of that original essence, so ex¬ 
 alted above all that is of sense; “ and from the most glorious 
 
 * 1 pango'i as contradistinguished from the o.Quvus. 
 
36 NEW PLATONISM. 
 
 of all beings we must seek for blessings bv that which is 
 most glorious in ourselves. ,A.nd that is the spirit av hicli needs 
 no organ.” * This highest position of spiritual worship, as 
 addressing itself to the Supreme essence, was set up as a 
 rival of Christianity, and as a means of dispensing with it. 
 
 We must not, however, transfer to this Supreme essence 
 of the new Platonic philosophy of religion, the Christian con¬ 
 ception of God as Creator and Governor of the world. The 
 fundamental position of the ancient world in life the deifica¬ 
 tion of nature, in science the separation of the divine and 
 human—appears again prominently and distinctly in this final 
 shaping of philosophical thought with which that position ended. 
 It belonged to the lofty dignity of that Supreme essence, that, 
 wrapt in its transcendent perfection, it could enter into no 
 contact with the sensible world; consequently, the only wor¬ 
 ship worthy of it is the contemplation of the spirit raised 
 above all that is sensible ; and this, therefore, was contrasted 
 with practical life, as with a subordinate position. T his con¬ 
 ception, however, ol spiritual worship is as distinct from the 
 Christian view of it, as the conception of the Supreme essence 
 itself is. In the height of its speculations this philosophy of 
 religion proceeded to still further refinement on the conception 
 of Supreme essence. In Plato it is necessary to distinguish 
 what he says of the idea of the absolute—the good in itself, 
 exalted above all being - )'—from what he says of the Supreme 
 Spirit, the Father of the Universe.; But the new Platonists 
 substituted the idea of the absolute for the Supreme essence 
 itself—as the first, simplest principle which is anterior to all 
 existence; of which nothing determinate can be predicated; 
 to which no consciousness, no self-contemplation can be 
 ascribed; inasmuch as to do so would immediately imply a. 
 duality, a distinction of subject and object. This Supreme 
 entity can be known only by an intellectual intuition of the 
 spirit, transcending itself, and emancipating itseif from it 
 own limits. § Now this mere logical tendency, by means o 
 
 * Iu Eusebius Prreparat. evangel. 1. IV. c. 13; and Porphyry de absti- 
 nentia carnis, 1. II. s. 34, who cites these words of Apollonius of Tv ana, 
 and busies himself with explaining and applying them. _ 
 
 | j n the Republic. t In the Timaeus and Philebus. 
 
 ^ Plotinus says : yvcoiriw; B/a vov ctWuv ytyvouivn; y.ut v& 
 
 vodv yiywrxsiv }vvc6u>iv»v, vwfcfaKOS rov-o <rhv 7 oZ vov (pZrsv, rivi rev clXIoxqitq * 
 
 ■-*5 W 
 
DEFENCE OF IMAGE-WORSHIP. 
 
 37 
 
 which men thought to arrive at the conception of such an 
 absolute, the civ, was united with a certain mysticism, which, 
 by a transcendent state of feeling, communicated, as it were,, 
 to this abstraction what the mind would receive as a reality. 
 The absorption of the spirit into that super-existence (rd 
 tTTiKEiva rrje ovacag ), so as to be entirely identified with it, or 
 such a revelation of the latter to the spirit raised above itself, 
 was regarded as the highest end which the spiritual life could 
 reach. And this, Porphyry relates, was once experienced by 
 himself, in his sixty-eighth year; though by his teacher, 
 Plotinus, four times.* 
 
 By virtue of the gradations in the evolution of the chain of 
 existence, from the transcendent original down to the world of 
 sense, and by virtue of a symbolical interpretation connected 
 with this doctrine, it was made possible to spiritualize and to 
 appropriate every part of the existing cultus. Thus, e. g., 
 the rhetorician Dio Chrysostom, who wrote in the time of 
 Trajan, puts in the mouth of Phidias the following defence of 
 images of the gods : “ It cannot be said that it would be 
 better for men simply to lift up their eyes to the heavenly 
 bodies, and that there should be no images at all. All these 
 the man of reason worships, and believes that he beholds 
 from afar the blessed gods. But love to the gods makes 
 every one rejoice to be able to honour them near at hand, 
 since now he can approach and touch them, offer to them 
 with implicit faith, and crown them. Indeed,” he says, 
 11 it is a part of human nature to endeavour to make present 
 before our senses the absent objects of our love. Hence 
 the Barbarians, who were ignorant of the arts, were obliged 
 to transfer their worship to other, certainly far less appro¬ 
 priate objects—to mountains, trees, and stones.”f Similar 
 arguments are employed by Porphyry in justification of 
 
 £5r;/Soxjj u9eoa. Anecdota grtcca, ed. Villoison. Venet. 1781. T. II 
 p. 237. 
 
 * Thus Porphyry relates of him in the account of his life: 
 
 Ixuvo; o 3-zo; 'o pi 7Tt iv /xrirs tivcc loiuv uarig Si vouv, xa) ardv to voutov 
 
 Tboufjoitoi' u xa) lya corral Xiyu orXniriuirca xa) ivaBnvai : and of Plotinus 
 he says, it was his highest aim IvuStivai xa.) orcXdaai tu tor) •prd.m Sty, and 
 four times, during his abode with Porphyry, he had attained to this, 
 
 ivigyita. appriru xa) ou 'huva/au. 
 
 f See Dio Chrysostom’s remarkable discourse on the knowledge of 
 the gods. Orat. XII. ed. Reiske. II. Vol. I. p. 405 et seq. 
 
38 
 
 new platonism. 
 
 image-worship.* “ By images addressed to sense the an¬ 
 cients represented God and his powers—by the visible they 
 typified the invisible for those who had learned to read in 
 these types, as in a book, a treatise on the gods. We need 
 not wonder if the ignorant consider the images to be no¬ 
 thing more than wood or stone; for just so, they who are 
 ignorant of writing see nothing in monuments but stone,^ 
 nothing in tablets but wood, and in books but a tissue ot 
 papyrus.” 
 
 Thus then this spiritualizing apprehension of the old poly¬ 
 theistic religion, moulded by the spirit of the Platonic philo¬ 
 sophy, so far as this extended its influence unto the religious 
 consciousness, had gone on forming itself as a means of con¬ 
 ciliation between superstition and unbelief. And this it had 
 done independently of the influence of Christianity. Bor we 
 find this direction of mind already fully developed in Plutarch, 
 and, when he wrote, Christianity certainly had as yet produced 
 no influence on the spiritual atmosphere at large. But a new 
 zeal in behalf of the old religion, in which men had long been 
 striving with all their might to keep up the breath ot life, had to 
 be awakened by this philosophy of religion, now that the ancient 
 rites were threatened with destruction by Christianity with its 
 new and positive religious interest. And thus there arose out 
 of those already existing ideas a new polemical and apologetic 
 direction, which had for its end the preservation ot the rotten 
 fabric of paganism. Artificial and violent expedients, how¬ 
 ever, cannot long help any cause ; and this effort, often but too 
 artificial, but ill concealed the untenable character of the 
 religion which men were labouring to uphold. By such 
 means these philosophical refiners of religion were themselves 
 preparing many a weapon ot assaidt against the popular 
 religion, of which, in after ages, the Christians skilfully availed 
 themselves. Plutarch even, at his early date, employed the 
 doctrine of demons, as intermediate beings between gods and 
 men, for the purpose of defending the traditions ot the popular 
 religion, and vindicating the dignity of the gods—transferring 
 from the latter many things to these intermediate beings, who, 
 he maintained, had been confounded with the others.f Ae- 
 
 * In Eusebius Prwparat. evangel. 1. III. c. 7. 
 
 •f Plutarch, de defectu oraculorum, c. 12 et seq. 
 
INTRODUCTION OF DEMONS. 
 
 39 
 
 cording to Plutarch’s doctrine, these demons, half related to 
 the gods, half to men, serve as the means of intercourse be¬ 
 tween both.* But among these demons also he supposed that 
 a graduated subordination prevailed, according as the divine 
 or the sensuous element j predominated in them. Where the 
 latter was the case, it gave rise to malignant demons, with 
 violent desires and passions ; and to conciliate these, and to avert 
 their evil influences, was the design of many of the noisier and 
 ruder forms of worship. Such, too, were those which had given 
 rise to human sacrifices. In this idea Porphyry concurred, and 
 represented these demons as impure beings akin to matter, which 
 according to the Platonists is the origin of all evil. These are 
 they that delight in bloody offerings, for thereby their sen¬ 
 suous desires are gratified ; these prompt to all evil impulses ; 
 they draw men from the worship of the gods by pretending to 
 be such themselves, and thereby they give rise to unworthy 
 opinions concerning the deities, and concerning the Supreme 
 God himself. Their delusive arts have been successful from 
 of old. Hence those unworthy and indecent notions and 
 stories of the gods, which are current among the multitude, 
 and have received countenance even from poets and philoso¬ 
 phers. J It is easy to see how greatly such explanations 
 would assist the Christians in their attacks on the popular 
 religion; and it is evident that the same representations, 
 adopted by opposite views, and modified in different forms, 
 might be seized upon, sometimes for the defence, sometimes 
 for the assault, of paganism. 
 
 It was impossible, however, that religious knowledge and 
 religious life should make progress among the people by means 
 of explanations which to them must have been unintelli¬ 
 gible. The people adhered closely to the external forms of 
 their worship; they clung firmly to that old superstition 
 which it was attempted to reanimate, without troubling them¬ 
 selves about more spiritual views. Accordingly Dionysius of 
 Halicarnassus could truly say § that “ a few only share this 
 philosophical view of religion. But the many who are desti- 
 
 W hat seemed incompatible with the exalted dignity of the gods 
 was transferred to them, ru-uTcc Xuroug'yoi; Biuv ttvuriSlvnSy cotrvrio 
 X.O.) 'yc.a.fx.uKTi'vtri. f The waS-sjTiao'v and o.Xoycv. 
 
 % In Eusebius Prscparat. evangel. 1. IV. c. 21, 22. 
 
 § Archscol. 1. II. c. 20, near the end. 
 
40 
 
 NEW PLATONISM. 
 
 tute of philosophical culture usually understand those mythi¬ 
 cal stories in the worst possible way ; and one of two things 
 is the case: either the gods are despised for taking an interest 
 in such pitiable affairs, or else men abandon themselves to 
 the worst abuses, because they find the same practised among 
 their gods.” 
 
 Again, inseparable from that stage of progress at which the 
 ancient world stood, with its lingering zeal for civil liberty— 
 not wholly freed however from narrow egoism—was a certain 
 aristocratic spirit. This, as we have already seen, made itself 
 felt in religion. The higher religious point of view, which 
 necessarily supposed philosophical culture, could not be trans¬ 
 ferred to the multitude ; they seemed as it were excluded from 
 the higher life, and incapable of religion except in the form 
 of superstition. The great body of tradesmen and mechanics 
 were considered as unsusceptible of that higher life which 
 alone answered to man’s true dignity,*' as abandoned to 
 common life."!" Platonism was itself infected with this aristo¬ 
 cratic spirit of Antiquity, and by it the stage of science, at 
 which alone it was possible to rise to pure truth in religion, 
 was opposed to that of opinion (Ufa) among the multitude 
 (oi 7 roWol), where the true must ever be mixed up with the 
 false. Accordingly, it by no means fell within the aim of 
 this new philosophy of religion to elevate the people, to 
 any higher stage of religious development; — for which, 
 indeed,”it was destitute of the requisite means. Plotinus, 
 therefore, distinguishes two different states, that of the noble- 
 minded (the ffTtovecuoi) and that of the gross multitude (the 
 ttoXKoI.) None but the former attain to the Highest; the 
 others remain behind, conversant with the merely human (the 
 opposite to the Divine). And even at this stage of common 
 life, it is necessary again to distinguish those who, in some 
 sort, take an interest and part in virtue, from the wretched 
 mass, the day-labourers,—the better class of whom even are 
 necessarily engrossed with the care of providing for the daily 
 wants of ‘life; the rest, however, abandon themselves to all * 
 that is vjle.| It was not till the word that went forth from 
 
 * B to; i(od.va.VG’og. 
 
 ■j* Ob yap oJovt itfivAbivaai * 70 . 'Tjj, o.piTYi$ 
 
 Aristoteles Polit. 1. III. c. 5. > _ 
 
 % 'il; iirro; o /Sbf, o fill rt>7$ cr^ovicum 
 
 ^cuvnra fbiov (Iczvccutrev 
 o cs roi$ tfoWo.f 
 
 * r. ' 
 y, ZvrtKGv* 
 
 <7uiv 
 
PRODUCTIVE OF FANATICISM. 
 
 41 
 
 the carpenter’s lowly roof had been published by fishermen 
 and tent-makers, that these aristocratic notions of the ancient 
 world could be overthrown. 
 
 As usually happens at epochs of transition, the particular 
 intellectual tendencies whose aim it is to maintain the old are 
 often forced to pass beyond it, and so of themselves facilitate 
 the reception of the new, whose development they were designed 
 to prevent. And such was the case now with this philosophy 
 of religion, relatively to the old world on the one hand, and 
 to Christianity on the other. While the new Platonism was 
 labouring to preserve and defend the former, it yet contributed 
 of itself to excite deeper religious wants, which sought satis¬ 
 faction in something better. It set afloat religious ideas, in 
 which there dwelt a power unknown to those who first gave 
 utterance to them, and which could not fail to prepare a 
 way by which Christianity might introduce itself into the cul¬ 
 ture of the times. Thus the influence which this particular 
 mental direction exercised on religious life called forth a long¬ 
 ing which tended to a different end from what it purposed. 
 But at the same time this undefined longing, unaccompanied 
 with any clear consciousness of its import, exposed ardent 
 minds to many dangerous delusions so long as the satisfying 
 object was yet to be found. Accordingly this state of feeling- 
 called forth a host of fanatics, and procured for them a hearing. 
 
 Accordingly at this date the Roman empire, which still 
 comprised the East and the West, was full of men who wan¬ 
 dered from country to country boasting of divine revelations 
 and supernatural powers—men in whom, as is usual in such 
 times of religious ferment, the seZ/’-deception of fanaticism was 
 mixed with more or less of intentional fraud. For an instance 
 we may mention Alexander of Abonoteichus, in Pontus, whose 
 life Lucian has written with his usual satire, and who every¬ 
 where, from Pontus to Rome, found believers in his pretended 
 arts of magic and soothsaying, and was reverenced and con¬ 
 sulted as a prophet even by the most exalted individuals. 
 To a better class among these men belonged Apollonius of 
 Tyana, so famous in the age of the apostles. It is impos¬ 
 sible, however, to form any certain judgment of his character, 
 
 croiv' to7; /x£V afto'jbu.'toi; orpo; to axpoTUTOti xa.) to oiveu, to 7; 7>\ o.vSpaJTtxuJTiooi;, 
 diTTo; au uv, o fxiv fxtu.\in[xivo; ajtTjjc fxiTiirysu iyuS-ov two;, o Ti (pauXo; o%\o; 
 
 c'tov s Toos o.'iayxrw to7; iVtuxia-Tlfoi;, Ennead. II. 1. X. C . 9. 
 
42 
 
 NEW PLATONISM. 
 
 so imperfect are our means of information. Those who like 
 Philostratus (at the close of the second century), attempted, 
 with their marvellous stories, to paint him as a hero of the 
 old popular religion, have done most to injure his reputation 
 with posterity. He seems to have travelled about, seeking to 
 reanimate religious faith ; but, by furnishing food to a pi u- 
 rient curiosity about matters that must for ever remain hidden 
 from man, he at the same time promoted fanaticism. He 
 declaimed against a superstition which, by leading men to 
 suppose that offerings and sacrifices could purchase impunity 
 for crime, served as a prop for superstition: he taught that 
 without virtue and morality no kind of outward worship is 
 pleasing to the gods. He spoke against the ciuel gladiatorial 
 shows; and when the Athenians, who were celebrating such 
 games, invited him to the public assembly, he replied that he 
 could not tread on a spot stained by the shedding of so much 
 human blood, and wondered the gods did not forsake the 
 Acropolis. When the president of the Eleusinian mysteries 
 refused the privilege of initiation to Apollonius of lyana, it 
 is difficult to say whether the Hierophant meant honestly, and 
 regarded Apollonius as a magician, who dealt in unlawful arts, 
 or whether he was not, rather, jealous of the great influence, 
 unfavourable to the priesthood, which Apollonius exercised 
 over the people. For his influence is said to have been so 
 great, that the society^ of Apollonius was looked upon by many 
 as a greater privilege than initiation into the mysteries, lhe 
 words with which he is said to have concluded all his piaj eis, 
 and in which he summed up every particular request, aie cha¬ 
 racteristic of the man: “ Give me, ye gods, what I deserve.” 4 ' 
 At the same time, he is said to have observed, that, if he 
 belonged to the good, God would give him more than he asked, 
 therefore more than he desired. Such words do not necessarily 
 imply a spirit of self-exaltation ; by them he simply intended 
 to express his conviction that pray r er can avail nothing unless 
 joined with a virtuous life ; that the good man only can expect 
 blessings from the gods. Still, in such language, we cannot 
 but recognise a mode of judging one’s self, quite opposed to 
 
 the spirit of Christianity. _ 
 
 There is extant a letter consoling a father on his son s death, 
 
 * AojVs ™ itpuxifjLiva.. Philostrat. 1. IV. f- 200, ed. Morell. Paris, 
 If08,—c. 40, f. 181, ed. Olear. 
 
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA. 
 
 43 
 
 •which is ascribed to Apollonius. If it is genuine, it affords 
 us an insight into his pantheistic tendency. At all events, we 
 recognise in it, as we do in so many other of the phenomena 
 of this age, the pantheistic element into which, as its funda¬ 
 mental unity, the decaying system of Polytheism was passing.* 
 In this letter the doctrine is advanced that birth and death 
 are only in appearance; that which separates itself from the 
 one substance (the one divine essence), and is caught up by 
 matter, seems to be born ; that, again, which releases itself 
 from the bonds of matter, and is reunited with the one divine 
 essence, seems to die. There is at most an alternation between 
 becoming visible and becoming invisible.f In all there is, 
 properly speaking, but the One essence, which alone acts and 
 suffers, by becoming all things to all—the eternal God, whom 
 men wrong when they deprive him of what properly can only be 
 attributed to him, and transfer it to other names and persons.^ 
 “ How can we grieve for one, when by change of form, not of 
 essence, he becomes a god instead of a man ?Ӥ So Plotinus, 
 when dying, is said to have remarked that he was endeavouring 
 to restore the divine in man to the divine in the universe.|| 
 There was, in short, everywhere an obvious need of a reve¬ 
 lation from heaven to give to inquiring minds that assurance 
 of peace which they were unable to find in the jarring systems 
 of the old philosophy, and in the artificial life to which the 
 old religion had been reawakened. Even that zealous cham¬ 
 pion of the latter, Porphyry, testifies to this deep-felt necessity ; 
 which, leaning on the authority of divine responses, lie pro¬ 
 posed to supply by his Collection of Ancient Oracles. On 
 this point he says,T “ The utility of such a collection will best 
 
 * Ep. 58 among those published by Olearius in the Works of Pliilo- 
 stiatus. 
 
 f audits ollivo; % film iwqjdmt, xaSoiTia ouSi ylvurt; allins ?! fiovov 
 
 {uncivil' TO fth yap \\ obeia; TpaTsv tl s tpvmv yivt<ri;‘ to Ss e k Qvtnw; tl; 
 
 oltr'mo Hard. tooItu. SdsaTOS- 
 
 T 'O 1 ' oltrlav, ?j lb /aov/1 ToiUTtii xtti Tcitr^u, toliti knofjouv Ta\Ta, 
 
 3-o; athos, St x.ca TootruTots d-tpaipou/aivv to lllov, alixovto'ivn ts. 
 
 § TpoTov pc&Tafidtru teat ol%,'t tylffiois. 
 
 || Thiga<r§ai to iv fi/oTv 3-iiov uvdyav Tpos to ev tZ tcovt) 3c7ov. PorphjT. 
 vit. Plotiu. c. 2. 
 
 If TUpi Tnc I k \oyiajv tpiXoaoip'ias in Euseb. Prreparat. 1. IV. c. 7, near the 
 
 end: Hv l to^ikua,v v auvayojyv ptaktoTsc uaovTat caoi Ti^i T'bo a-kbSita* 
 
 otltvavTis wu^avTO Ton tvs Vo Qiuiv iTtipavuas Tvp^ovTiS ivaTavTiv ?.ai Ss7v, tvs 
 ■ aTOouas Ota tvv tuv ksyovTwo dS'toTttrrov hlatrxaklav• 
 
44 
 
 NEW PLATONISM. 
 
 be understood by those who, feeling the pain of craving after 
 truth, have sometimes wished that some divine manifestation 
 might be imparted to them, in order to be able to set all their 
 doubts at rest by trustworthy information.” 
 
 The life of such a person, harassed from his very youth with 
 doubts, unsettled by the strife of opposite opinions, seeking the 
 truth with ardent longing, and conducted at last, by this long 
 unsatisfied craving, to Christianity, is delineated by the author 
 of a sort of romance (partly philosophical and partly religious), 
 belonging to the second or third century, The Clementines — 
 which, though a fiction, is clearly a fiction drawn from real 
 life. We may therefore safely appeal to it, as presenting a 
 true and characteristic sketch, which doubtless applied to 
 many an inquiring spirit of those times. 
 
 Clement, a member of a noble Homan family, who lived 
 about the time of the first preaching of the gospel, thus tells 
 his own story :—“ From my early youth I busied myself with 
 doubts of this kind, which had found entrance into my soul I 
 hardly know how : After death shall I exist no more, and will 
 no one even once think of me, since infinite time sinks all human 
 things in forgetfulness ? Will it be just the same as if I had 
 never been born ? When was the world created, and what 
 existed before the world was ? If it existed from all eternity, 
 then it will continue to exist always. If it had a beginning, 
 it will likewise have an end. And after the end of the world, 
 what will there be then? what, perhaps, but the silence of 
 death ! Or probably something will then be of which no con¬ 
 ception can be formed at present. Incessantly haunted,” he 
 proceeds, “ by such thoughts as these, which came I know not 
 whence, I was sorely troubled, so that I grew pale and emaciated 
 ■—and, what was most terrible, whenever I strove to get rid ot 
 these anxious questionings as useless, I only experienced a 
 renewal of my sufferings in an aggravated degree, which occa¬ 
 sioned me the greatest distress. I was not aware that in these 
 reflections I had a friendly companion who was leading me to 
 eternal life, as I afterwards learned by experience; and I thanked 
 the great Disposer of all for granting me such guidance, since 
 it was by these thoughts, so distressing at first, that I was 
 impelled to seek till I found what I needed. And when I 
 had obtained this, then I pitied, as miserable men, those whom 
 before in my ignorance I was in danger of estimating as 
 
NEED OF A HIGHER FAITH. 
 
 45 
 
 most happy. As then, from my childhood, I was constantly 
 occupied with such thoughts, I resorted to the schools of the 
 philosophers, hoping to learn there some certain knowledge; 
 but I saw nothing but the building up and the tearing down 
 of theories-—contention answered by contention: at one 
 moment, for example, proof of the soul’s immortality was 
 triumphant, then again its mortality. When the former proof 
 prevailed, I rejoiced ; when the latter, I was depressed. Thus 
 was I driven to and fro by different opinions; and was 
 forced to conclude that things appear not as they are in them¬ 
 selves, but as they happen to be presented on this or that 
 side. My brain was in a greater whirl than ever, and I 
 sighed from the bottom of my heart.” As he could arrive at 
 no fixed and certain conviction by means of reason, Clement 
 now resolved to seek, relief by another method—by visiting 
 Egypt, the land of mysteries and apparitions, and seeking 
 out a magician who might summon for him a spirit from the 
 other world. The apparition of such a spirit would give 
 him intuitive evidence of the soul’s immortality. No argu¬ 
 ments afterwards would be able to shake his belief in what 
 had been thus made certain by the evidence of his senses. 
 But the advice of a sensible philosopher dissuaded him from 
 thus seeking the truth by forbidden arts, to which if he were 
 to resort, he could never again hope to enjoy peace of con¬ 
 science. In this state of mind, full of doubts, unsettled, 
 inquiring, distressed, and deeply agitated, he came in contact 
 with the gospel, as preached in demonstration of the Spirit 
 and of power—and his case may illustrate that of many others. 
 
 If, now, we review our previous sketch of the religious state of 
 the pagan world, we cannot fail to observe many and various 
 antagonistic elements to, and also points of union with, Chris¬ 
 tianity; antagonistic elements, however, which were capable 
 of becoming points also of union, and points of union capable 
 ot proving antagonistic. Opposed to Christianity, stood at one 
 and the same time that despotism of the powers of infidelity 
 and of superstition. The might of infidelity —the understand¬ 
 ing. which denies everything above nature, the nil admirari 
 wisdom—set itself to oppose Christianity, as it did everything 
 else that made the least requisition on man's religious nature. 
 By all who had followed this direction, Christianity was 
 placed under the same category with the worst forms of fana- 
 
46 
 
 NEW PLATONISM. 
 
 ticisni and superstition. But there teas also an infidelity 
 which had its root in a need of believing, which, as we 
 have seen in the case above mentioned of Clement, could no 
 longer be satisfied by anything that the existing state of the 
 ancient world in religion and philosophy could afford. And 
 such an unbelief could be overcome by the force of divine 
 truth in the gospel; infidelity itself became here a preparatory 
 influence to the reception of Christianity. On the other hand, 
 the supremacy of a superstition clinging to sense opposed the 
 adoption of a religion which proclaimed the worship of God in 
 spirit and in truth ; and this superstition was in close alliance 
 with the old religion, which had lately been elevated to a new 
 authority over the spirit of man. But that authority was 
 something unnatural,— it was a last effort of expiring life: 
 and at the root of the prevailing superstition there lay, as we 
 have seen, for the most part, a need which looked for satisfac¬ 
 tion, and which could find it only in Christianity;—the need 
 of deliverance from the deep-felt schism within—of reconcilia¬ 
 tion with the unknown God, after which a conscious or uncon- 
 • scious longing yearned eagerly. By means of an unconscious, 
 undefined craving of this sort, many no doubt fell victims 
 to artifice and fraud; and it was necessary that the power 
 exercised by such means over the minds of men should be 
 overthrown by Christianity before it could pave its way to 
 their hearts. "But there dwelt in the gospel a power to con¬ 
 found all deceptive arts, and through every delusive show 
 to penetrate to the heart of man. 
 
 Platonism prepared the way for Christianity, by spiritualiz¬ 
 ing the religious modes of thinking; by bringing back poly¬ 
 theism to a certain unity of divine consciousness ; by awaken¬ 
 ing many ideas closely allied to Christianity, as, for example, 
 the idea of a redemption under the notion of a deliverance 
 from the v\r )—from the blind power (i.e.) of nature opposed 
 to the divine ;* of an elevation to a state of divine life removed 
 beyond the influence of natural powers.j But even that 
 
 * Of attraction and repulsion, of every description of yonrua, the 
 dycyjrsvrov. f / . n , 
 
 t We may mention here also the idea of an tnunot which God 
 possesses. Plutarch, de Iside et Osiride, c. 1. The idea of a kingdom 
 of God, depending on the condition that the divine element in nian gains 
 the supremacy ; in the language of Psammon, an Egyptian priest in the 
 
ITS RELATIONS TO CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 47 
 
 which is best suited to form a preparatory position may also be 
 easily converted into one of fierce hostility, when it attempts 
 to maintain the old against the higher principle which has pre¬ 
 sented itself. Accordingly in Platonism we still discern the 
 spirit of the old world, though pregnant also with foreign 
 elements. It was especially that humility of knowledge and 
 that renunciation of self which Christianity required that Neo- 
 Platonism could not bring itself to acquiesce in. It could not 
 be induced to sacrifice its philosophical, aristocratic notions, to 
 a religion which proposed to make the higher life a common 
 possession for all mankind. The religious eclecticism of this 
 direction of mind was naturally ill-disposed to the exclusive 
 supremacy of a religion that would allow of no rival, but 
 would subject all to itself. Yet this philosophy of religion 
 found it impossible to prevent the ideas and wants it had 
 aw r akened from leading beyond itself, and to Christianity. 
 Platonism, it is true, revived the faith in a superterrestrial 
 nature and destination of the spirit; but the way in which the 
 doctrine of the soul’s immortality, reduced to the ideas of an 
 eternity of the spirit, and of the soul’s preexistence, was united 
 with the transmigration of souls, failed to satisfy the universal 
 religious wants of mankind. If, according to this doctrine, 
 —which, however, ultimately applied only to such souls as 
 had by philosophy attained to the intuition of truth—if even 
 those souls which, having emancipated themselves from the 
 bonds of their earthly existence, were able to rise to a life 
 wholly above sense, wholly divine, must yet, after a certain 
 time, yield again to the force of destiny, and plunge once 
 more into the cycle of earthly existence;—this was not such 
 an expectation as could satisfy the desires of the human man. 
 And it is therefore easily conceivable what power the procla¬ 
 mation of eternal life, in the Christian sense, must have 
 exercised over a want thus excited and yet left unsatisfied.* 
 
 This school itself then could not fail to give rise to opposite 
 views: on the one side were those who continued to hold 
 
 time of* Alexander ttie Great ,—‘ Oti to. v-n; ctvQocooroi (o<x.<rt\ivovTa.i uvro Bsow 
 to yao a-o-^ot iv ixair-M X ai Kgarovv, Buoy t<rnv. In the Life of Alexander, 
 c. 27, near the end. 
 
 * We have an illustration of it in Justin Martyr’s account of his own 
 religious history, at the beginning of his dialogue with Trypho, where 
 he relates how he was led from Platonism to embrace Christianity. 
 
48 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 this position in hostility to Christianity; on the other, those to 
 whom it proved a point of transition to Christianity. But 
 then, again, the latter were exposed to a peculiar danger. 
 Their earlier prejudices might react in such a way as to per¬ 
 vert their mode of apprehending and of shaping Christian truth ; 
 so that unconsciously they took with them much foreign matter 
 derived from their previous opinions. 
 
 Religious Condition of the Jewish people. 
 
 In the midst of the nations addicted to the deification of 
 nature in the form either of Polytheism or of Pantheism, we 
 see a people among whom the faith in one Almighty God, the 
 absolutely free Creator and Governor of the world, was propa¬ 
 gated, not as an esoteric doctrine of the priests, but as a com¬ 
 mon possession for all, as the central animating principle of a 
 whole people and state. And necessarily connected with the 
 faith in an All-holy God was the recognition of a holy law as 
 the rule of life, a conviction of the opposition between holiness 
 and sin—a consciousness which the aesthetic position of the old 
 religion of Nature (though single gleams of it occasionally 
 flashed out) was unable to evolve with the same strength, 
 clearness, and constancy. This difference between the Hebrew 
 people and other nations is of itself sufficient to relute every 
 attempt which may be made to ascribe a similar origin to the 
 Jewish as to other national religions. It is a fact that bears 
 witness to the revelation of a living God, to whom the 
 religion owed both its existence and its progressive develop¬ 
 ment, as well as to that peculiar course of discipline whereby 
 the Jews were trained to be the instruments by which this 
 revelation was to be preserved and propagated. A Philo might, 
 with good reason, say of this people, that to them was intrusted 
 the office of being prophets for all mankind ; for it was their 
 destination, as distinct from the nations sunk in the worship of 
 nature, to bear witness to the living God. The revelations and 
 providences vouchsafed to them were designed for the whole 
 human race, over which, from the foundation here laid, the 
 kingdom of God was in time to be extended. Theism and 
 the Theocracy must be embodied in an outward shape, as a 
 something pertaining exclusively to a distinct people, in order 
 
ITS ELEMENTS. 
 
 49 
 
 that from the shell of this national form there might issue 
 a kingdom of Gocl which should embrace all mankind. Yet 
 as the idea of the Theocracy cannot, by external forms and 
 rules, be realized in the life of any single people, nor generally 
 in the rude stock of human nature, unennobled and persisting 
 in its estrangement from God, a disproportion inevitably 
 arose even here between the revealed idea and its outward 
 manifestation ; and this very circumstance contained the pro¬ 
 phecy of a future reconciliation. The idea must strive to pass 
 beyond a form of manifestation, which as yet does not fully 
 answer it, towards a development more conformable to its 
 essence and fulness; and it contains in itself the propheev of 
 such a development. If history generally by its very nature 
 partakes more fully of the prophetic character in proportion as 
 there dwells in it a pervading reference to the great moments 
 of history—to all that is important as bearing on the progress 
 of mankind as a race; then the religion and history of the 
 Jewish people must in a preeminent degree be full of such 
 prophetic elements. The destinies of this nation were so over¬ 
 ruled as invariably to call forth a still stronger consciousness 
 of that schism and inward disunion, of which we have spoken 
 above, and of a longing after deliverance from it. This de¬ 
 liverance is identical with the restoration of the fallen Theo¬ 
 cracy, which was to be accompanied with promulgation to 
 all nations of the worship of the living God. The appear¬ 
 ance of him, by whom this was to be accomplished, who is the 
 true theocratic King, forms therefore the focus of the prophetic 
 element, which, although subsequently unfolded in the several 
 prophecies with special clearness and distinctness of vision, is, 
 nevertheless, not some extraneous element superadded to the 
 national faith, but one which was grounded by an inherent 
 necessity in the whole structure of the national worship and 
 history. The idea of the Messiah is the culminating point of 
 this religion, to which all the scattered rays of the divine 
 within it converge. 
 
 G idle the religious belief of the Greeks and Romans suffered 
 a violent shock in the revolutions which these nations expe¬ 
 rienced, the innate energy of the theistic faith is clearly 
 manifested in the vitality with which it preserved itself un¬ 
 shaken amid all the political storms that agitated the Hebrew 
 people. Nay, the very oppressions they suffered under the 
 
 von. i. ‘ e 
 
50 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 yoke of foreign conquerors did but serve to confirm this faith, 
 although the right understanding of its import did not advance 
 at an equal pace. But as everything in human nature that 
 develops itself is liable to the corruption that is inherent in 
 the latter, so revealed religion could not escape its influence. 
 Even Christianity, the absolute religion of humanity, could not 
 be exempt from this necessity; only it possessed the power of 
 comma- forth ennobled from the conflict with these corruptions 
 by making use of them to free itself from the admixture of 
 foreign elements. This power did not reside in Judaism, for 
 it was not designed to endure for all times as a leligion in 
 its particular form, but by the dissolution of this form to make 
 way for that higher creation which it foretold. If, however, 
 this form, instead of yielding to that higher development, 
 should seek still to maintain itself, outliving its energies, it 
 must drag on without vital power. And here, again, we shall 
 see that, If that which is but preparatory in its design fails to 
 understand its true relation to the whole historical develop¬ 
 ment, and attempts to assert its own independence, then it 
 invariably becomes an opponent of that higher stage which it 
 
 was its very purpose to prepare for. „ . 
 
 What has just been said is applicable to the direction of the 
 relio-ious spirit which governed the great mass of the Jewish 
 people. With them, the consciousness of being God’s people, 
 misapprehended according to the notions of their fleshly minds, 
 served but to foster a national pride of which it had become 
 the foundation. Men fastened on the letter-the letter inter¬ 
 preted by the contracted views of minds turned only on the 
 world They clung to the sensible form and envelope, and 
 were not able to perceive the spirit they shrouded and the 
 ideas they contained, because there was no sensitive congenial 
 spirit to meet the divine truth as it was offered. The sentence 
 was here verified which our Lord himself pronounced, “ He who 
 has, to him shall be given; and he who hath not, from him 
 
 shall be taken even that which he hath.” _ 
 
 The consciousness of the declining condition of the 1 he- 
 ocracy had, it is true, called forth a deeper yearning after the 
 promised epoch of its glorious restoration, and tlie sense o 
 oppression under the yoke of foreign and domestic tyrants 
 had awakened a more ardent longing for the Deliverer, and 
 the appearance of Him from whom that glorious restoration 
 
 
FALSE PROPHETS. 
 
 51 
 
 was to proceed—the promised Messiah. But the same sordid 
 views which led to a misapprehension of the nature of the The¬ 
 ocracy generally could not fail to lead to a misapprehension of 
 this id ea a lso, which forms the central point towards which the 
 whole Theocracy itself had tended. The worldly interpre¬ 
 tation of the idea of the Theocracy, and of the religious spirit 
 generally necessary, made them unable to comprehend the 
 idea of the Messiah in any but a worldly point of view. As 
 the great mass of the people were bowed down by the sense of 
 temporal much more than of spiritual wretchedness, degrada¬ 
 tion, and bondage, it was chiefly as a deliverer from the former 
 that they looked and yearned for the Messiah. Man’s love 
 of the supernatural took here altogether a worldly shape; 
 the supernatural, as it was pictured before the imagination 
 of the worldly heart, was but a fantastic imitation of the 
 natural exaggerated into the monstrous. The deluded Jews, 
 incapable of a spiritual apprehension of divine things, expected 
 a Messiah who should employ the miraculous power, with 
 which he was to be divinely armed, in the service of their earthly 
 lusts ; who should free them from the yoke of bondage, exe¬ 
 cute fearful vengeance on the enemies of the Theocratic”people, 
 and make them the masters of the world in a universal empire 
 whose glory they delighted in depicting with the most sensual 
 images that the wildest fancy could suggest. 
 
 Ihe nation was destitute of guides and teachers to instruct 
 them in the nature of their religion and of the Theocracy, and 
 to undeceive them as to their erroneous fancies. Most of their 
 guides were blind leaders of the blind, men who only confirmed 
 the people in their fleshly perverse imaginations and in the 
 errors to which they led. Great mischief had particularly 
 been occasioned by a fanatical zealot, Judas of Gamala, or the 
 Galilaean, who, about the year 11 after the birth of Christ, 
 rose up to oppose the census or registration decreed by Augustus 
 Caesar. A people, who, as a just punishment for their sins, had 
 already forfeited their liberty, and were about to forfeit it for 
 ever;—such a people were invited by him to throw off, at 
 once, the yoke of Roman bondage. He urged those who in 
 disposition were very far from serving God as their Lord to 
 acknowledge Him as their only Lord, and to endure no badge 
 of the dominion of a stranger over the people of God. While 
 others were for waiting till deliverance should be wrought by 
 
JUDAISM. 
 
 the power of God, through the Messiah, he, on the contrary, 
 demanded that they should themselves lay the first hand to the 
 work. God, said he, will help those only who do their own 
 rtnrt •' but by this he meant nothing else than the resistance of 
 human will to a power placed by God’s appointment over a 
 people that had not understood its vocation, and had been 
 unfaithful to it; and who, by their very way of tlnnkmg had 
 become incapable of freedom.* This was the source of the 
 W ild fanaticism of the zealots, in which political and worldly- 
 religious motives were blended together into an impure combi¬ 
 nation—a combination which at all times had been most fatally 
 productive of mischief to nations, as the history of the Jewish 
 people, down to its final destruction, exemplifies throughout. 
 When John the Baptist, in obedience to his call from God to 
 be a preacher of repentance, raised a divine voice m the wil¬ 
 derness of a degenerate people, seeking to awaken them to a 
 consciousness that it was in the disposition ot the heari that the 
 way must be prepared for the regeneration of the Iheocracy, 
 and directing the longing wishes ot Ins contemporaries from 
 the earthly to the divine, yet, notwithstanding the great effect 
 which the commanding power of Ins words produced, lie 
 found so little sympathy with that which was the true aim 
 Sd spirit Of his "preaching, that at last he fell a victim to a 
 league struck between worldly and spiritual tj ranny a mar i\ i 
 t0 that truth, which, with a denunciatory zeal that regarded no 
 consequences, he maintained against all the wickedness of ms 
 ao-e The death of John foreshadowed the fate which was to 
 terminate the earthly course of one greater than himself—one 
 whom it was his divine vocation to bear witness of, and pre¬ 
 pare the way for. . , 
 
 Incomnrehensible, therefore, to men afflicted with such 
 
 blindness, were the words of the Son of God concerning the 
 true freedom which he had been sent from heaven to bestow on 
 those who sighed under the bondage of sin As with then- 
 carnal temper they knew not the Father, so also they could not 
 discern in Jesus the Son, because they had no ear for the voice ot 
 the Father, witnessing of him in the wants of the human heart. 
 The temper which had made them disregard the prophetic 
 warning of John the Baptist, rendered them deaf also to the 
 
 * Joseph. Archsol. 1. XVIII. c. 1, de B. J. 1. II. c. 3, s. 1. 
 
FALSE PROPHETS. 
 
 53 
 
 warning call of the greatest among all the prophets. Under 
 the influence of the same temper, they became to their ruin 
 a prey to the artful designs of eveiy false prophet who 
 knew how to flatter the wishes which such a disposition 
 inspired. 
 
 When the temple of Jerusalem was already in flames, one of 
 those false prophets could persuade crowds of the people that 
 God was about to show them the way of deliverance by a mi¬ 
 raculous sign—such a sign as they had often demanded of Him 
 who would have shown them the true way to true deliverance, 
 and who did refer them to the true signs of God in histoiy; 
 and thousands of deluded men fell victims to the flames or to 
 the Roman sword. Josephus, who was no Christian, but who 
 contemplated with less prejudice than others the fate of his 
 nation, of which lie was an eye-witness, closes his recital of 
 this event with the following remarkable words:—“ The 
 unhappy people seemed, at that time, to have no wish but to 
 be cheated by impostors who were bold enough to lie in the 
 name of Got!. But to the manifest prodigies that portended 
 the approaching destruction they paid no regard—they had no 
 faith in them: like men wholly infatuated, and as if they 
 had neither eyes nor soul, they heeded not what God was 
 announcing.” 
 
 Among the Jewish theologians in Palestine we find each of 
 the three main directions, which, when the forms of a positive 
 religion decay, usually make their appearance in opposition to 
 each other. First, the traditional tendency, which, mixing up 
 •with the original religion many foreign elements, seeks to com¬ 
 bine them all into an artificial whole; and which, having lost 
 the living spirit, holding tenaciously to form and letter, sub¬ 
 stitutes, in the place of the real essence of the religion, a 
 barren orthodoxy and a dead ceremonial. And this in the 
 next place calls forth a reaction—a tendency to reform. But 
 .a reaction of this kind, proceeding rather from an intellectual 
 than from a religious element, allows the spirit of nega¬ 
 tion to predominate over the positive religious interest, easily 
 swerves from the just moderation in polemics, and in its 
 extreme course frequently expunges, together with the foreign 
 elements, much that is genuine and good. But the unsatisfied 
 ■want which both these tendencies leave in men of profounder 
 and warmer feelings, usually gives rise to another reaction— 
 
54 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 the reaction of a preeminently subjective tendency, which 
 would give a paramount authority to the feelings and to in¬ 
 tuitive judgments, and, as opposed to the tendencies above de¬ 
 scribed, is designated by the name of mysticism. These three 
 main directions of the religious spirit, which, under different 
 forms, often recur, may be respectively recognised in the 
 present case in the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes. 
 
 The Pharisees* stood at the head of legal Judaism. 
 They fenced round the Mosaic law with a multitude of so- 
 called “ hedges,” whereby its precepts were to be guarded 
 against every possible infringement. And under this pretext 
 tiiey added many new statutes, particularly to the ritual por¬ 
 tion of the law. These, by an arbitrary method of interpreta¬ 
 tion—a method which in part tortured the letter and in part 
 was allegorical—they contrived to find in the Pentateuch. 
 But at the same time they appealed to an oral tradition as fur¬ 
 nishing both the key to a right exposition of it, and also the 
 authority for their doctrines. By the people they were 
 venerated as holy men, and they stood at the head of the 
 hierarchy. An asceticism, alien to the original Hebrew spirit, 
 but capable of readily uniting with the greatest extravagances 
 of legal sectarianism, was by them wrought into a system. We 
 find among - them much that is similar to the consiliis cvcui- 
 gelicis , and to the rules of Monachism in the later church. 
 On painful ceremonial observances they often laid greater 
 stress than on good morals. To a rigid austerity in avoiding 
 even the slightest appearance of transgressing the ritual pre¬ 
 cepts, they united an easy sophistical casuistry which skilfully 
 excused many a violation of the moral law. Besides those who 
 made it their particular business to interpret the law and its 
 supplemental traditions, there was also among them a party 
 who, by allegorical interpretation, contrived to introduce into 
 the Old Testament a peculiar Theosophy which they propa¬ 
 gated in their schools. Starting from the development of certain 
 kleas which the Old Testament really contained in the germ, 
 
 * The name is derived from “ parash,” U’D?; either in the sense “ to 
 expound,” whence “ poresh,” tfHIQ, the \\nynrri; tov vopou xur a 
 
 title claimed by the Pharisees, according to Josephus; or in the sense 
 u t0 set apart,” “ parush,” which indeed sounds nearer to the Greek 
 
 Quo / 5 -a^c, "one separated from the profane multitude,” the DJh 
 
 « one who wished to be regarded as holy.” 
 
TIIE PHARISEES AND SADDUC'EES. 
 
 55 
 
 they formed their system by combining' with it many elements 
 derived from Zoroastrian or Parsic opinions; and at a later 
 period (after the time of Gamaliel) with much also that they 
 borrowed from Platonism. Thus to a ritual and legal tradi¬ 
 tion a speculative and theosophic one was added.* 
 
 It would be as wrong, certainly, to confound these Pharisees 
 together in one class as it would be to pursue such a course 
 with the later monks. Among them we must distinguish the 
 several gradations from an honest though misguided zeal down 
 to the mock-holiness and hypocrisy which thirsted only for 
 power. Although with many the selfish interest of an hierar- 
 chial caste was the governing principle, yet there were some 
 for whom the legal way of thinking, with all its rigorous 
 observances and conflicts, possessed perfect truth; some who, 
 in their course of life, had passed through the painful ex¬ 
 periences which Paul, the former Pharisee, describes in the 
 seventh chapter of his Epistle to the Romans. But one thing 
 was wanting to them—the humility with which those who feel 
 the poverty of their own spirit go forth to meet the divine grace. 
 
 The Sadducees, on the other hand, desired to restore the 
 Mosaic religion to its original purity, and to expimge what¬ 
 ever had been added by Pharisaic traditions. But as they 
 refused to follow the thread of historical progress which 
 marked the development of the divine revelations, and arbi¬ 
 trarily cut. it short, so they could not understand the original 
 Theism in the Jewish religion. That direction of mind which 
 shows hostility to the progressive development of the reli¬ 
 gious consciousness, required by what was already contained or 
 implied in the original, inevitably misunderstands the original 
 itself—never fails to seize it on one side exclusively and to 
 mutilate it* The Sadducees were too deficient in a pro¬ 
 found sense of religion and of the religious need, to be able to 
 distinguish the genuine from the spurious in the Pharisaic 
 theology. 
 
 Directly at variance as were the two systems of Phariseeism 
 and Sadducoeism, they yet had something in common. This 
 was the one-sided legal principle which they both maintained. 
 
 * In what is here said I have taken into view the well-grounded ob¬ 
 jections which Dr. Schneckcnburger, in the seventh Dissertation ot his 
 Introduction to the New Testament, has made against the manner in 
 which the subject was presented by me before. 
 
56 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 And by the Sadducees, indeed, this principle was seized and 
 held in a manner still move exclusively one-sided than by the 
 other sect; since with them all religious interest v\ as confined 
 to this one point, and they misinterpreted or denied everything 
 else that belonged to the more fully developed faith ol the 
 Old Testament. Moreover, the essential character of the law 
 in its spirit, as distinguished from its national and temporal 
 form, in its strictness and dignity, was recognised by them still 
 less than by the Pharisees. While the Pharisees attributed the 
 highest value to the righteousness of ritual andascetical voiks, 
 with the Sadducees—as, perhaps, the name they gave them¬ 
 selves may denote—uprightness in the relations ot civil society 
 was everything. Starting from this principle, there was nothing 
 m their view of morality which presented a point of contact for 
 the feeling of religious need, which most readily" emerges from 
 the depth 0 of the moral life. Add to this, that to the Penta¬ 
 teuch alone did they ascribe a divine authority—an authority 
 binding on religious conviction.* The observance of the law, 
 
 * Ready as I am to acknowledge the weight of tbe arguments brought 
 by Winer (in his Biblische Realworterbuch) against the statement heie 
 made, yet I cannot be induced to abandon it. 'Very true, it does not 
 admit of being proved from the passages ot Josephus that the badducces 
 denied the authority of all other books of the canon. All that is proved 
 by those passages is that they were opponents of tradition, and were 
 for deriving the substance of the legal precepts which must be observed 
 from the letter of the law alone, without allowing validitv, in this regard, 
 to any other source of knowledge. But neither can it, by any means, 
 be proved from them that they judged respecting the canon precisely as 
 did the Pharisees. Although Josephus, (c. Apion. c. 8,) taking Ins po¬ 
 sition on the ground of Jewish orthodoxy, might thus describe the canon 
 as of universal validity, yet it by no means follows that that heteiodox 
 sect, which departed in so many other things from what was elsewhere 
 considered as important for the religious interest, that this sect might not 
 also differ from the latter in their judgment concerning the canon. If the 
 Sadducees, notwithstanding their denial ot doctrines so important to the 
 general religious interest as those ot personal immortality and of the re¬ 
 surrection, could yet attain to the most considerable offices of the state, 
 was it likely that an opinion concerning tbe canon, which certainly had 
 no such vital connection with practical life, should torm au obstacle to 
 this promotion? Josephus says ot them that, when they wore called to 
 administer public affairs, they did not venture to act aceoidingto their 
 own principles, but were constrained to show a deference to the prin¬ 
 ciples of the Pharisees; for otherwise they must incur the popular rage, 
 which would inevitably be excited against them._ yaoW tto%as 
 
 ’Tctoiixoucrla; liiv x.u) kclt' ivayy.r,v, •xooffx a Z 0 »‘S ® <? i -gcutot 
 
THE SADDUCEES. 
 
 understood after their own way, was for them the only thing 1 
 fixed and certain ; in respect to ail other things they were 
 inclined to doubt and disputation.* 
 
 As a belief in the spirit’s destination for an eternal and super¬ 
 terrestrial existence found no congenial element in their tone of 
 mind, which was at once rationalistic and worldly, the Sadducees 
 expressly denied the doctrines of the resurrection and of the 
 immortality of the soul, because they could not be proved 
 from the simple letter of the Pentateuch. These doctrines 
 they therefore classed among the foreign additions to the 
 original teaching of Moses, from which they were anxious to 
 purify Judaism. It is always a distinctive mark of such a di¬ 
 rection of mind that it declares all doctrines to be surreptitious 
 which are not literally expressed in the still acknowledged re¬ 
 cords of religion, however they may be implied in their spirit, 
 which contains within itself the. germ out of which they were 
 subsequently developed. But it is more difficult to conceive 
 how the Sadducees found it possible to reconcile their denial 
 of a world of spirits and of the existence of angelsf—to which 
 denial, however, they were impelled by the same direction of 
 mind—with their principle of admitting everything as religious 
 doctrine which could be shown to exist in so many words in 
 the Pentateuch. It is easy to see here how, for their opinions, 
 
 Xtyii, S/a to oLWa; anxrov; yiiitrSui roT; rfXriQsiriv. Archtcol. 1. XVIII. 
 c. 1, s. 4. These words without doubt refer immediately to church 
 principles of administration; yet I cannot avoid the inference from 
 analogy that the Sadducees would have acted in precisely the same way 
 in regard to other things not less important in their relation to the 
 common religious interest—such, for instance, as their denial of immor¬ 
 tality ; that is, would have made no public demonstration of their real 
 convictions. Although, in such a case, it must necessarily have happened, 
 that, with such difference of opinions, violent contentions would some¬ 
 times arise in the Sanhedrim. See Acts 23, 9. So then, there may 
 have been a distinction of an exoteric and esoteric position in their 
 judgment concerning the canon. While manifesting a certain respect for 
 the whole canon, they may have, notwithstanding this, ascribed a de¬ 
 cisive authority, in matters of faith, to the Pentateuch alone. Indeed, it 
 cannot well be conceived how they could reconcile the acknowledgment 
 of an equal authority belonging to all the books of the Old Testament 
 with their denial of immortality and of the resurrection. 
 
 * Josephus describes the sceptical tendency of the Sadducees in 
 Arclucol. 1. XVIII. C. 1 , S. 4 : 'kuXxxJi; Si ovbu.fjt.Mv Tiy.ouv fAirccvroi'/itn; ccutoi; 
 
 V <TMV VOUjMV. n^OC yct<3 700$ dtbolUX.U,\OU$ Uotytas 7] V fJOlTlOCtTlV, U.fJjQt\oyUV clo' TTrv 
 
 dgiS-ftoutriv, f Acts 23, 8. 
 
58 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 which had originated and were grounded in a state of mind 
 wholly peculiar to themselves, they only sought, so far as the 
 case admitted, a point of union and support in the authority 
 which they recognised. Most probably, in explaining the 
 angelic appearances (the Angelophaniai), they departed from 
 their principle of literal interpretation, and considered them 
 merely as visions by which God revealed himself to the 
 Fathers.* 
 
 Although it cannot be proved, from the notices of Josephus, 
 that they denied a special Providence, yet it is clear that, in 
 strict conformity with their tendency to negation, they made 
 God, as far as possible, an idle spectator of the affairs of the 
 world, taking much less share in the concerns of men than 
 the Theocratic principle required. Thus their way of thinking 
 gradually approximated to a Deism which denied all revela¬ 
 tion, and consequently, also, the very essence of the Jewish 
 religion itself, though at the outset they had simply in \ iew 
 the restoration of that religion to its primitive simplicity. 
 The principle of their intellectual bias must have led them 
 further than they intended themselves to go. In perfect hai- 
 mony with this mode of thinking was the severe, cold, heart¬ 
 less disposition which Josephus ascribes to the Sadducees. 
 According to his account, they were for the most part persons 
 of wealth, who led a life of ease, and, satisfied with earthly 
 enjoyments, closed their minds against all higher aspirations.] - 
 
 * As we must infer from Origen’s words compared with a passage in 
 Justin Martyr (Dialog, c. Tryph. Jud. f. 358, ed. Colon), wheie he 
 speaks of a party among the Jewish theologians that denied the personal 
 existence of angels, and explained all appearances ot them as merely 
 transient forms of the manifestation of a divine power, which God caused, 
 to go out from himself and then withdrew. Origen, in the words alluded 
 to, ascribes to the Sadducees, lifys wsj' ayylxav, a; ov% Wa^x, 0 ***>*> 
 
 roortoXoyouijAvuv ruv avruv <Lva.yiyQa.p.lvwv »«i fJ-rSii u-, -roo; rriv httmiccv 
 
 ix'ovTav. It may admit of question whether Origen was here 
 following some historical records, or merely allowing himself to con¬ 
 clude, from the necessary connection of ideas in his own mode of 
 thinking, that if they did not ascribe literal truth to the narratives oi 
 the angelic appearances, they must then have explained them alle- 
 gorically. The comparison of his statement however with that ot 
 Justin Martyr renders the former the more probable. 
 
 t Although Josephus was himself a Pharisee, yet we have no reason 
 to suspect what he says of the Sadducees, for he constantly shows himself 
 impartial in his judgments; he moreover frequently exposes, without 
 
THE ESSENES. 
 
 59 
 
 It now remains for us to speak of the Essenes or Essaeans, 
 whose relation to the two parties just described has already 
 been exhibited in a general manner. About two centuries 
 before the birth of Christ, there arose, in the quiet country 
 lying on the west side of the Dead Sea, a society of piously 
 disposed men, who sought in these solitudes a refuge from 
 reigning corruptions, from the strifes of parties, and the storms 
 and conflicts of the world. Their society sprang up precisely 
 as the monastic system did at a later period. They are thus 
 described by the elder Pliny, who felt constrained to express 
 a sort of respect for their independence and their contentment 
 within themselves: — “On the western border of that lake 
 dwell the Essenes, at a sufficient distance from the shore to 
 avoid its pestilent effluvia—a race entirely by themselves, and, 
 beyond every other in the world, deserving of wonder; men 
 living in communion with nature; without wives, without 
 money. Every day their number is replenished by a new 
 troop of settlers, since they are much visited by those whom 
 the reverses of fortune have driven, tired of the world, to their 
 modes of living. Thus happens what might seem incredible, 
 that a community in winch no one is born, yet continues to 
 subsist through the lapse of centuries. So fruitful for them is 
 disgust of life in others.”* From this first seat of the 
 Essenes, colonies had been formed in other parts of Palestine ; 
 they settled not only in remote and solitary districts of the 
 country, which must have answered best to their original 
 design, but also in the midst of villages and towns. The 
 planting of such colonies would naturally lead to many devi¬ 
 ations from the original strictness of their principles and many 
 
 reserve, the had traits of the Pharisees, and we have no cause, therefore, 
 to charge him here with malicious feelings, injurious to the truth. Cer- 
 taiuly we cannqt infer from the character of the doctrines of the later 
 Karaites, who were temperate opponents of the Pharisaic traditions, what 
 must have been the character of the Sadducean doctrines. The general 
 question still remains unsettled, whether the latter doctrines had any 
 outward connection with the former, although the heresy-hunting spirit 
 of their adversaries would naturally be glad of the chance to confound 
 them with these. 
 
 * Ab occidente litora Esseni fugiunt, usque qua nocent. Gens sola 
 et in toto orbe prater cameras mira, sine ulla femina, omni venere 
 abdicata, sine pecunia, socia palmarum. In diem ex aequo convenarum 
 turba renascitur, large frequentantibus, quos vita fessos ad mores eorum 
 fortunse fluctus agitat. Natur. Hist. 1. V. c. 15. 
 
60 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 alterations of their discipline. If, as we may gather from the 
 statements of Josephus, there was one class ot Essenes n iio 
 were willing- to act as magistrates, it is evident that, residing 
 in civil society, they must have found it impossible to observe 
 all the rules which bound with the force of law such as lived 
 secluded from human intercourse. As is wont to happen in 
 similar communities, there must in this case have naturally 
 sprung up many orders of the sect, various forms of relation 
 to, and modes of connection with, the original society. Indeet, 
 the historian Josephus expressly distinguishes four different 
 orders among the Essenes.* And thus many contradictory 
 statements which occur in the several accounts ot tins sect 
 
 admit of being easily reconciled.! _ 
 
 If among mystic sects we may always distinguish, the more 
 practical and the more speculatively inclined, we must reckon 
 the Essenes with the former class, only we must not overloo.-v 
 the existence among them of a certain speculative and l lieo- 
 sophic element. This, their peculiar mystic turn, might have 
 sprung up in the first place, independently of external influence, 
 out of a profound veneration of the Old Testament, a spirituali¬ 
 zation of the letter, which had its root in the same temper ot 
 mind which gave birth to allegorical interpretation, huch 
 mysticism has made its appearance after much the same 
 manner among people of the most diverse character, among 
 Hindoos, Persians, and Christians. It would lead certainly to 
 rrreat mistakes if, from the resemblance of such religious phe¬ 
 nomena, whose relationship can be traced to a common ground 
 of origin in the nature of the human mind itself, we were to 
 no on'and to infer their outward derivation from each other. 
 
 * Josephus cites ualpa; vsn rapas of Essenes, L. J. h IB c - 8, s - tO, 
 which several grades, it is true, would, according to lus testimany, have 
 reference simply to the length of time spent in tins community; but 
 from the marks which are given we may doubtless infer that theie wen 
 other modes of classification among them besides that which bore 
 reference to the circumstance just mentioned. . , 
 
 + As for instance, while Pliny makes them reside only on the border 
 of the Dead Sea, Josephus (de B. J. 1. II. c. 8, s. 4) says that there were 
 many of them dwelling in every town; Plnlo (quod omnis probus liber, 
 s 12) that they lived. jcat,utiSov 9 vroXus UtrttirofAivot, and the same vu ei, 
 in a fragment of his defence of the Jews, preserved by Eusebius Euesar 
 (Prreparat. Evangel. 1. VII. c. 8), that they lived in many towns and 
 villages of Judea, in populous districts. 
 
THE ESSEN ES. 
 
 61 
 
 How much that is similar might we not find on comparing the 
 phenomena of Brahmaism and Buddhism with those of the 
 sect of Beghards in the middle ages, where the impossibility 
 of any such derivation is apparent to everybody ! Still it 
 must be admitted that although the mysticism of the Essenes 
 did not originally owe its rise to any outward exciting cause, 
 yet, having once sprung up, it adopted many foreign ele¬ 
 ments. But should the question now arise—Whence did these 
 elements come? we find our thoughts reverting far more 
 naturally to old Oriental, to Parsic, Chaldaic elements (many 
 ideas from that source having been propagated among the Jews 
 since the time of the captivity), than to elements of Alexandrian 
 Platonism. For although this is the usual supposition at the 
 present time, it is difficult to conceive how the latter could 
 already have exerted so powerful and wide-extended an influ¬ 
 ence in Palestine at the period when the sect arose. The 
 peculiar asceticism of the Essenes by no means warrants us to 
 infer that they must have been acquainted with the Platonic 
 doctrine of the vXrj, since it may be quite as well explained by 
 the influence of the Oriental ideas ; while the former, without 
 the addition of the latter, would have led to no such peculiar 
 bent. Due consideration should moreover be given to the 
 fact that Josephus and Philo (writers to whom we are chiefly 
 indebted for our information respecting this sect) have both— 
 the latter however still more than the former—clothed the 
 opinions of the Essenes in a garb peculiarly Grecian, which 
 Ave may rightly regard as not originally belonging to them. 
 W e must therefore be cautious how Ave attribute much im¬ 
 portance to many things they advance, Avhich can only be 
 owing to that circumstance ; especially as in modern times 
 the Essenean doctrines have similarly given occasion to 
 arbitrary combinations and modes of representing historical 
 facts. 
 
 Besides the diversities above mentioned, Avhich must have 
 been introduced gradually among the Essenes as they began to 
 relax more and more from their primitive eremetical severity 
 and to submit to the intercourse of civil life, Ave may notice 
 another remarkable difference among them. A life of celibacy 
 Avas in strict accordance with the Oriental element of their 
 original ascetic turn; but this Avas an institution totally alien 
 to the spirit of the primitive Hebraism, by which a fruitful mar- 
 
62 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 riage was reckoned among the greatest blessings and ornaments 
 of fife. Accordingly we trace among the Essenes a reaction 
 of the original Hebrew mind against this foreign ascetical 
 element, analogous to something which we shall hereafter 
 have frequent occasion to notice in the history of sects. 
 There was a party of the Essenes which differed from the 
 (thers by tolerating the institution of marriage.* 
 
 It accorded with the character of this sect that they should 
 combine the contemplative life with the practical; but, from 
 accommodation to the diversities already mentioned, the extent 
 to which this was done must also have been various. The 
 practical bent of the Essenes would naturally incline them to 
 a life of industry. Such a life was probably intended in their 
 case, as in that of the later monks, to answer a two-fold -pur¬ 
 pose—to occupy the senses so as to prevent any disturbance 
 from that quarter to the higher activity of the mind; and to 
 supply them with the means, while independently providing 
 for their own subsistence, of contributing at the same time to 
 the necessities of others. Peaceful were the occupations with 
 which they in every instance employed themselves ; although 
 they differed according to their different habits of life, accord¬ 
 ing as they held communion with nature alone or shared in the 
 intercourse of civil society. Agriculture, the breeding of bees 
 and of cattle, and mechanical handiworks, were their prin¬ 
 cipal avocations. They also sought to explore the powers of 
 nature, and apply them to the healing of diseases. Connected 
 with their secret doctrines w as a traditional knowledge relating 
 to this subject. They were in possession of old writings which 
 treated of such matters. Health of body and of soul they 
 were in the habit of connecting together, as well as the cure 
 of both. Their science of nature and their art of medicine 
 seem to have had a religious, Theosophic character-! As 
 they strove to investigate the secret powers of nature, so also 
 were there found among them some who claimed for them¬ 
 selves, and endeavoured to cultivate, a gift of prophecy. 
 Among their secret traditions was a particular method of 
 
 * See Joseph. B. J. 1. II. c. 8, s. 13. 
 
 f Joseph. B. J. 1. II. C. 8, s. 6: 1 *t oieut srsjl 
 
 7Tu.Xa.iun avyyoa.ii.ina.'TU.i pLuXiaru. aa ergo; u$iXiiav xcu aupiurc; izXt- 
 
 yovrc;. "EvShv aurol; <r%o; SnpaTUut vuSun piZ,a.t ri iXt^r-'.pm xu.) XiBuv 
 iSiarnri; inosvvurrcu. 
 
THE ESSENES. 
 
 63 
 
 ! ascetical preparation, which should qualify those who followed 
 it to search into the future. 3 * For this purpose they employed 
 j sacred writings in a way similar to that in which at a later 
 time the Bible has been used for a like purpose. From the 
 words of these works—whether they were the Scriptures of 
 the Old Testament or others in which the secret doctrines of 
 their sect were unfolded—they sought by various interpreta¬ 
 tions to unravel the secrets of futurity. All this bears the 
 i impress of the old Oriental spirit, certainly not of the elements 
 : of Grecian culture. 
 
 By a conviction of a higher dignity common to the whole 
 j human race—of the oneness of the divine image in all (to 
 which the Old Testament of itself might have led them)f— 
 i they rose above the narrow limits within which the develop- 
 i ment of the human species was confined by the prejudices of 
 antiquity. They considered all men as rational beings, des- 
 1 tined to the enjoyment of personal freedom; they condemned 
 slavery and suffered no slave to exist in their community, 
 mutually helping one another in every kind of service. As 
 it was their design to restore the community originally founded 
 by the Almighty in nature, and thereby to remove the differ¬ 
 ences which civil societ\ r had introduced among men, the 
 distinctions of poverty and of wealth were abolished in their 
 fraternity. They had a common treasury, formed by throwing 
 together the property of such as entered into the society, and 
 by the earnings of each man’s labour. Out of it the wants of 
 all were provided for. This community of goods, however, 
 did not preclude the right of private property, and was, more¬ 
 over, in all probability, modified by the diversities already 
 described. 
 
 * A,at pipoi; ayn'icu; l/xTraihoTpipioufiiviuv. See Joseph. B. J. 1. II. c. 8, 
 
 s. 12. 
 
 f This view naturally resulted both from the development of the Old 
 Testament idea respecting the image of God, and from the recognition 
 ot the origin of mankind from a single pair ; as, on the contrary, slavery 
 found its justification in the prevailing mode of thinking among Pagans; 
 their misapprehension of the higher nature common to the species, and 
 their assumption of an original difference of races, in virtue of which 
 some, by their reason, were destined and suited to rule over others, and 
 these latter, with their bodily powers, to serve them as tools. Thus 
 Aristotle, in^ his work on Politics, 1. I. c. 2, says, To ,«lv * r* 
 
 5/a voice ‘Z’gdogccv CCO^OV (QucTH JCU.1 SsffTOI^Oy <j9t/0 r S/, To 51 'buVCAf/-iVO)> T/W o"o//oaT/ 
 <ruura ttoh'im a^cfitvov xai tpucu Sot/Xov. 
 
64 
 
 .JUDAISM. 
 
 There can be no doubt that this sect, by exciting a more 
 earnest and lively spirit of devotion, by arousing the sense of 
 the o-odlike within the little circles over which their influence 
 extended, produced those wholesome fruits which have always 
 spruno- out of practical mysticism, wherever the religious life 
 lias become stiffened into mechanical forms. Owing to their 
 inoffensive mode of life, which commanded universal respect, 
 they were enabled, without molestation, to preserve and ex¬ 
 tend themselves, amidst all the strifes of party and all the 
 revolutions to which Palestine was subjected, down to the 
 
 extinction of the Jewish state. . 
 
 The Essenes were in that corrupt age particularly distin- 
 n-nPhed among the Jews for their industry, charitableness, and 
 hospitality; for their fidelity, so different from the seditious 
 spirit of “the Jews, in rendering obedience to magistrates as 
 the powers ordained of God; and also ibr their strict veracity. 
 Every yea and nay possessed in their society the force ot an 
 oath ; for every oath, said they, presupposes a mutual distrust, 
 which ought not to find place in a community of honest men. 
 Only in one case might an oath be administered among them, 
 and“ then it was taken as a pledge from those who, after a 
 novitiate of three years, were to be received among the number 
 of the initiated. 
 
 Now although, in the sketch just presented of this sect, we 
 cannot fail to recognise a sound practical bent, yet we should 
 doubtless lie under a great mistake, if, led by the one-sided 
 representations of the Alexandrian Jew, Philo,* we were to loox 
 
 * In liis writings, above cited. Josephus also, as we have already 
 observed, lias given nothing that can be called an objective description 
 of this sect; notwithstanding that, when a youth of sixteen, he com¬ 
 pared the different Jewish sects together, in order to choose between 
 them, and endeavoured, along with the rest, to make himself acquaimed 
 with the sect of the Essenes. Although, however, he hardlj vent 
 beyond the period of a novitiate among them, and perhaps, in ie aid to 
 their esoteric doctrines, was no better informed than PM o, yet he 
 miqht obtain a more accurate knowledge of the sect than die A exam ■na 
 Jew. On the whole his account, savouring as it does with a smac«v ot 
 the Grecian taste, vet wears a more historical character than that 
 Philo which was evidently written with the distinct purpose m view of 
 holding up the Essenes to the. Greeks as a pattern of practical sages. 
 Indeed° the latter writer was scarcely capable of looking at anything bu 
 by the light of his Alexandrian Platonism. He must involuntarily find 
 Ms own ideas wherever any point of union enables him to introduce them. 
 
THE ESSENES. 
 
 65 
 
 upon the Essenes as an example of the purest practical mvstics 
 as far removed, on the one hand, from all Theosophic and 
 speculative fancies,* as, on the other, from all superstition 
 and slavish addiction to ceremonies. The fact which we have 
 already noticed, of their pretending to a gift of prophecy, is, of 
 itself, inconsistent with this view of the'matter. Their secret 
 lore, moreover, can hardly be supposed to have consisted simply 
 of ethical elements, and we are forced to the supposition of a 
 peculiar Theosophy and Pneumatology. Why else should 
 they have made so great a mystery of it ? This supposition, 
 indeed,, gains strength when we learn that, among other 
 obligations, the candidates for admission into the sect bound 
 themselves by an oath never to reveal to any one the names of 
 the angels which were about to be communicated to them. It is 
 confirmed again by the cautious secrecy with which they kept 
 their ancient books. Even Philo himself makes it probable, 
 when he says that they busied themselves with a fiXotropia 
 cut avpfoXujy, a philosophy which was based on the alle¬ 
 gorical interpretation of the Bible; since such modes of the 
 allegorizing of Scripture are invariably associated with a 
 speculative system. I here is nothing to warrant us in sup¬ 
 posing that it was the ideas of the' Alexandrian Theolooy 
 which constituted the basis of their scheme. On the contrary, 
 a fundamental element in this 'Theosophy of theirs seems to 
 have been a certain veneration of the sun, which we can only 
 explain from the intermingling of Parsic rather than ot 
 I latonic doctrines. It was their daily custom to turn their 
 faces devoutly towards the rising of the sun, and chant toge¬ 
 ther certain ancient hymns, traditional to their sect, which 
 were addressed to that luminary, purporting that his beams 
 ought to fall upon nothing impure.f To this may be added 
 their doctrine concerning the soul’s preexistence. Descended 
 from some heavenly region, it had become imprisoned in this 
 
 . * } cannot at all agree with those who seize upon the words of Philo, 
 in Ins book Quod ornnis probus liber, s. 12, where he says, that of the 
 three parts of philosophy, the Essenes accepted only Ethics, for the pur¬ 
 pose of sketching out, after this hint, the main features of the Essenean 
 system. It is impossible not to see that in these words the matter is set 
 forth in an altogether subjective point of view ; and besides, what Philo 
 heie asserts is contradicted by the more precise and accurate testimony 
 of Josephus. J 
 
 f Joseph, de B. J. 1. II. c . 8, s. S et 9. 
 
 vol. r. 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 corporeal world, and, alter having' led a life worthy of its 
 celestial origin, it would be liberated again, and rise to a 
 heavenly existence befitting its nature. This, which was the 
 fundamental doctrine of their asceticism, may also just as well 
 be traced to an old Oriental tradition as to the Alexandrian 
 Platonism. The original birthplace of tins doctrine is, in 
 truth, the East, from which quarter it first found its way into 
 Greece. 
 
 If we may trust the words of Josephus,* they did indeed 
 send gifts to the temple, and thus expressed their reverence 
 for the original establishment. Discharging in this manner 
 the common duty of all Jews, in obedience to their principle of 
 fulfilling every obligation that bound them, they nevertheless 
 did not visit the temple themselves,f perhaps because they 
 looked upon it as polluted by the vicious customs of the Jews. 
 They thought that the holy rites could be performed in a 
 worthier and more acceptable manner within the precincts of 
 their own thoroughly pure and holy community. Here, too, 
 they also performed their sacrificial offerings, for the presenta¬ 
 tion of which, they believed themselves best prepared by 
 their ascetic lustrations within the pale of their own society. 
 The authority of Moses standing so high with them as it did, 
 there is not the least reason for supposing they would wholly 
 set aside the sacrificial worship appointed by him, unless, per¬ 
 haps, they looked upon the original Mosaic religion as having 
 been corrupted by later additions, and among these additions 
 reckoned also the sacrificial worship, as we find it asserted in 
 the Clementines. This, however, so far at least as it regards 
 the Essenes, admits not of the shadow of a proof. Now it is 
 singular, we must allow, that, as Jews, they could ever enter¬ 
 tain the opinion that it was lawful for them to offer sacrifices 
 away from Jerusalem. But, in truth, caprice in the treat¬ 
 ment of whatever belongs to the positive in religion forms 
 one of the most characteristic marks of all such mystic sects. 
 And it is in nowise inconsistent with the spirit of such a sect, 
 that in proportion as they looked upon the sacrificial worship, 
 
 * Archaeol. 1. XVIII. S. 4; Eh to hocv ocvaSwftaru Ti /r-TiWovTis 
 
 Qutrlcc; oux ionriXoZtrt iyvuorn, it; vofttT^om, xcti \ )i ttuTO uoyofiiivoi 
 
 •rou X.6110Z Ti/tivifftctTO;, if’ cciircuv to ; fyutnct; IviTiXovffi. 
 
 f For the word i'^yofttvoi cannot possibly be taken in any other sense 
 than that of the middle voice. 
 
THE ESSENES. 
 
 67 
 
 j instituted by Moses, as a holy service, they should be the 
 less disposed to take any part in its celebration amidst the 
 wickedness of the desecrated temple at Jerusalem ; and tiiat 
 they should maintain that, among the really sanctified (the 
 members of their own sect) was the true spiritual temple, where 
 sacrifices could be offered with the proper consecration.* 
 
 With such mystical sects it not unfrequently happens, that 
 a wholly spiritual and inward direction is most incongruously 
 associated with an exaggerated estimate of the value of the 
 outward practices of religion. So it was with the Essenes; 
 two opposite elements were by them brought into contact— 
 spiritual religion and slavery to forms. In a painfully super¬ 
 stitious observance of the Sabbath, according to the letter, 
 not the spirit, of the law, they went even beyond the Jews. 
 There was one difference, however, in the custom: in their 
 case their scruples sprang out of a sincere piety, while the 
 
 * Even from Philo’s language in the tract Quod omnis probus liber, 
 s. 12, it is impossible to extract that meaning which some have wished 
 to find in it: viz. that the Essenes gave a spiritual interpretation to the 
 whole sacrificial worship, and rejected outward sacrifices entirely. 
 
 ’Evrulb xa) sv rcT; ftaXiffra Sipccriuru) Sscv yiyovumv, ou 'fia. xaraS-Jcttris, 
 a.X?. npoTgivrsii ras ttzuruv 'biavoia; xocruirx'vii^tiv a^iovvTis. Philo is Starting 
 here from the doctrine of the Alexandrian theology, that the true 
 worship of God is purely spiritual, and consists in the consecration of 
 the life of the spirit to God. This idea he represents as having been 
 realized by the Essenes, whom he describes as Therapeutic, in the true 
 sense of the word. Simply for the sake of contrast, he mentions animal 
 sacrifices, which were usually held to constitute the main part of the 
 temple service ; and in so doing he by no means affirms that the Essenes 
 had entirely rejected sacrificial worship. Not the negative but the posi¬ 
 tive is here the essential point. Had it been his intention to say that the 
 Essenes rejected the sacrificial worship of Moses, he must have ex¬ 
 pressed this in a quite different tone. In this connection, Philo could 
 have said the same thing of himself, and of every other Jew, possessed, 
 according to his opinion, of a truly spiritual mind. By attaining to the 
 knowledge that the true sacrifice is the spiritual sacrifice of one’s self, 
 one is not led, certainly, according to his doctrine, to set aside the out¬ 
 ward sacrificial worship. In this case, therefore, there is not the least 
 opposition betwixt Philo and Josephus, but he is speaking of an entirely 
 different thing. In the passage cited from Josephus we cannot, for the 
 purpose of reconciling a contradictiou that does not exist, understand 
 “ sacrifice ” in the second instance different]}' from that in the first, as 
 referring to bloodless sacrifices—the symbolical offerings of the gifts of 
 nature. In this case, Josephus would have expressed the antithesis 
 in a different manner. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 casuistry of the Pharisees gave a milder or stricter interpre¬ 
 tation of the law, to meet the interests of the passing moment. 
 Not only did they, like other Jews, carefully avoid all con¬ 
 tact with uncircumcised persons; but as, within their own 
 body, they were separated into four different grades, they 
 who had attained to the highest dreaded the pollution of a 
 touch from the member of an inferior grade. Whenever an 
 accident of this sort occurred they had recourse to ablutions. 
 In general they attached greater importance than the rest of 
 their nation to purification, and bathed frequently in cold 
 water as a means of holiness. To their ascetical notions, the 
 oriental and healthful practice of anointing with oil seemed 
 an unholy thing ; whoever, therefore, happened by any means 
 to become thus defiled, felt obliged carefully to cleanse him¬ 
 self. They scrupulously avoided all food which had not been 
 prepared within their own sect. They would die rather than 
 partake of any other. These facts, then, are proof enough 
 that we should greatly err if, out of respect for the religious 
 spirit of this sect, we were to go on and consider them 
 the representatives of a simple and unalloyed practical mys¬ 
 ticism. 
 
 Essentially different from the form of culture which pre¬ 
 vailed in Palestine was the shape and direction taken by the 
 Jewish mind on that spot where, through a period of three 
 centuries, it had been unfolding itself under altered circum¬ 
 stances and relations—amidst those elements of Hellenic cul¬ 
 ture, that, transplanted into the aboriginal seats of a wholly 
 different civilization, had on this foreign soil gained the 
 supremacy—in the Grecian colony of Alexandria in Egypt. 
 Intercourse of Greek and Jewish minds in this city gave rise 
 to one of the most influential of those phenomena which have 
 had an eminently important bearing on the development of 
 Christianity in human thought. We here discern how that, 
 great historical event, which, more than three hundred years 
 before the birtli of Christ, shook to their foundations the king¬ 
 doms of the East, served to prepare the way for such a 
 process. The world-subduing armies of Alexander, as after¬ 
 wards the legions of Rome, were subservient to the supreme 
 end of history, by uniting and bringing within the influence 
 of each other regions previously separated, so that the minds 
 of men might be prepared to meet Christianity, to adopt it in 
 
AT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 69 
 
 thought, and to work it out with self-activity. Plutarch 
 looked upon it as the great mission of Alexander to trans¬ 
 plant Grecian culture into distant countries,* and to conciliate 
 Greeks and barbarians, and to fuse them into one. He says 
 of him, not without reason, that he was sent of God for this 
 purpose ; | though the historian did not divine that this end 
 itself was only subsidiary to, and the means of, one still 
 higher—the making, viz., the united peoples of the East and 
 West more accessible to the new creation which was to pro¬ 
 ceed from Christianity, and by the combination of the elements 
 of Oriental and Hellenic cidture the preparing for Christianity 
 a material in which it might develop itself. If we overlook 
 this ulterior end, and do not. fix our regards on the higher 
 quickening spirit destined to reanimate, for some new end, that 
 combination which already bore within itself a germ of cor¬ 
 ruption, we might well doubt whether that union was really a 
 gain to either party; whether, at least, it was not everywhere 
 attended with a correspondent loss. For the fresh vigour 
 which it infused into the old national spirit must have been 
 constantly repressed by the violence which the foreign element 
 did to it. To introduce into that combination a new livino- 
 principle of development, and, without prejudice to their 
 original essence, to unite peculiarities the most diverse into a 
 whole in which each part should be a complement to the other, 
 required something higher than any element of human cul¬ 
 ture. The true living communion between the East and the 
 West, which should combine together the two peculiar prin¬ 
 ciples that were equally necessary for a complete exhibition 
 of the type of humanity, could first come only from Chris¬ 
 tianity. But still, as preparatory thereto, the influence which, 
 for three centuries, went forth from Alexandria, that centre of 
 the intercourse of the world, was of great importance. 
 
 As in the course of these centuries the peculiar asperity 
 and rigidity of the Jewish character must have been consider¬ 
 ably tempered by intercourse with the Greeks, + and by the 
 transforming influence of the Hellenic culture, which here 
 
 It: (Zxg[oa(>iKc: roi; i)±\nviKoi; x-i^u-croii, xu.) <r^v sXXctSa a^uoai. See 
 
 Plutarch’s I. orat. de Alex, virtute s. fortuna, s. 10. 
 
 *1* K oivos YlKilV IhfiSsv Ct^f/.0(7TY]£ X(£l SjttAXaji'TJlJ TWV o\uv VOfJtl^CdV. L. C. C. 6, 
 
 t Philo reckons the number of Jews residing in Alexandria and the 
 countries adjacent at li a hundred myriads.” Orat. in Flaccum, s. 6. 
 
70 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 preponderated, its ultimate effect might have been of two 
 kinds. Either the religious feeling, which so strongly marked 
 the Jewish temperament, might, decay under the overpowering 
 influence of foreign habits of thinking and foreign culture, and 
 the Jews, in consequence, might be seduced into joining the 
 Greeks, among whom they dwelt, in ridiculing their old reli¬ 
 gious records, now become unintelligible to them; or else, 
 true in the main to the religion of their fathers, they might be 
 driven to look for some means of reconciling the latter with 
 tlxe Hellenic learning, which exercised an involuntary power 
 over their minds, and which, moreover, for apologetic pur¬ 
 poses, they were induced to make their own. 
 
 Doubtless there are some indications of the former result. 
 Thus that zealous champion of Judaism, the Alexandrian 
 Philo, could contrast with Moses, who, while in favour at the 
 Egyptian court, remained faithful to his people, certain rene¬ 
 gades* “ who trample under foot the laws in which they were 
 born and bred, subvert the customs of their country which 
 were liable to no just censure, and, in their predilection for the 
 new, are utterly forgetful of the old.” In another passage f 
 lie rebukes those “ who are impatient of the religious institu¬ 
 tions of their country ; who are ever on the look-out for matter 
 of censure and complaint against the laws of religion ; who, in 
 excuse of their ungodliness, thoughtlessly urge the following 
 or similar objections :J Do ye still make great account of your 
 laws, as if they contained the rules of truth? Yet see, the 
 holy Scriptures, as you term them, contain also fables, such as 
 you are accustomed to laugh at when you hear them from 
 others.” § 
 
 * De vita Mosis, 1. I. f. G07, S. 9. Nlaw! ■ra.^a.^a'iyovtrt, y.aSobs tyinrt- 
 S^cty KO.) h e *<pw*», ?e °7; fttfvfti elhfiU « e a<rur<n tixuja, 
 
 ■USmrfifttMi *«■) ha. Tjjv r*v jr«g«vT»i- a eiihm in 7«» 
 
 -XoLfi'fia.voucnv, x t , , 
 
 f De coufas. ling. f. 320, S. 5. o! /Am gu<rx^ai>ovns ry ora.T^if iroXirua, 
 
 xa) xaTnyc^lay u.Ci rat vlpaii piXiravn; Tourois. xai toi; 
 
 Ui £, iXi/ZdBgcas vn; iBiorr.ros ctvrSy oi lurasfcT; 
 
 - H p is speaking of tlie confusion of tongues at Hubei. 
 
 5 In" the passage (de nom. mutat. p. 1053, s. 8) where Philo quotes 
 the scoffing language of an £3sos and £<nfbr,;, the bitterness with which he 
 speaks would seem to indicate that the scoffer was an infidel Jew. In a 
 pagan this scoffing would not have struck him as anything singular. He 
 looks upon it as a punishment of the foolhardiness of this man, that he 
 soon after huilg himself; "v « x%\ [Alibi xaSaooi Savara) 
 
AT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 71 
 
 On the whole, however, the power of religious faith, so 
 ! deeply rooted in the mind of this people, was too great to be 
 1 weakened by the influence of foreign learning. The former, 
 therefore, of its two effects we alluded to above as possible, 
 
 1 was certainly the more rare, and the latter the more frequent 
 I case. Accordingly, the Jews, completely embued with the 
 ! elements of Hellenic culture, endeavoured to find a mean 
 ; between it and the religion of their fathers, which they had 
 I no wish to renounce. To this end they availed themselves of 
 , the system most in vogue with those who, in Alexandria, 
 busied themselves with religious matters—that of the Platonic 
 philosophy, which had already acquired a mighty influence over 
 their own intellectual life. At the same time they were very 
 far from consciously entertaining the idea or wish to sacrifice 
 the authority of their ancient religion and sacred writings to 
 the authority of a merely human pliilosophy. On the contrary, 
 from a comparison of the religious knowledge existing among 
 their own people with that which was to be found among the 
 Egyptians and Greeks, they had learned to appreciate more 
 fully the eminent character of their ancient religion, the divine 
 agency manifested in the fortunes of their nation, and its 
 destiny, as bearing upon the whole human race. Indeed, 
 their conviction that this was in fact the high destination of 
 the Jews, could only be raised and confirmed by such a com¬ 
 parison. This, at least, is the opinion of the individual whom 
 we would choose to name as the representative of these Alex¬ 
 andrians, viz. Philo.* “That,” he says, “ Minch is the por¬ 
 tion only of a few disciples of a truly genuine philosophy, the 
 knowledge of the Highest, has by law and custom become the 
 inheritance of the whole Jewish people ; ” and he calls the 
 
 •nXiVTwvj. By means of an allegorical interpretation Philo wished to 
 explain away that which furnished this man an occasion for his scoffing, 
 that others might not draw upon themselves a like punishment. He 
 describes here a whole class of such people, who were waging an 
 irreconcilable war with sacred things, and searching for matter of 
 calumny wherever the letter admitted of no befitting sense. "Emi tuv 
 
 <pi\xvrz%Snfiovav xa) [tai/s./w; ail to 7; cty.cZtiaots rgo/rdrmni iSeXovrav xal vroXifiov 
 
 ccxyiot/xrov vroXi/xouv'rcuv <ro7g ltoo7g. 
 
 * De carilate, f. C99, s. 2 : "Orsj lx (piXoffotylag 'boxifj.Gordmg , Ti()tytvirai 
 
 *ro~$ ofAiXnraig ccVTVjf, tduto xa) ^ 1 a vofAuv xa) IS-cov 'Xo’jbaioig, iTia’-T/if/,'/] <rov 
 avuraTou xa) Trgsapxjrdroi/ vrdv'reov, rov Ivr) ro7g yivnro7$ S-io7g vrXavov o.TTOJaa- 
 
•V -h 
 
 72 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 
 Jews priests and prophets for all mankind.* He was conscious 
 of the relation to universal history which lay at the bottom of 
 all that was special and particular in the history of his nation, 
 and saw how the Theocratic people, as such, had a mission to 
 fulfil which regarded the whole of humanity. He describes 
 them as a priestly people, whose calling it was to invoke the 
 blessing of God on mankind.f He says, with this reference, 
 that the offering, presented for the whole people, was meant 
 for the entire race of man 4 
 
 The spirit of Judaism enabled him to understand that reli¬ 
 gious truth should be a public thing, the common property of 
 all. When we consider how easily a Jew at Alexandria might 
 be tempted by the inducements which the traffic in religious 
 mysteries held out, to set up another description of mysteries 
 in competition with those of the Greeks, the decided stand 
 which Philo made against sucli a tendency appears highly 
 remarkable, and distinguishes him, in this respect, from the 
 heathen Platonists. It almost seems that he had found cause 
 to warn his fellow-believers against the fascinations of mystery, 
 by which they were in danger of being attracted.§ All 
 mysteries,” says he, “ all parade and trickery of that sort, 
 Moses removed from his holy legislation ; since he was un¬ 
 willing that such as were trained under such a religious 
 policy? should, by having their minds dazzled with myste¬ 
 rious things, be exposed to the temptation of neglecting the 
 truth, and of following after that which belongs to night 
 and darkness, to the disregard of what is worthy of the light 
 and of the day. Hence no one that knows Moses, and counts 
 himself among his disciples, ought to allow himself to be 
 initiated into such mysteries, or initiate others ; for both the 
 learning and the teaching of such things is no trifling sin. 1' or 
 why, ye initiated, if they are beautiful and useful matters, do 
 ye shut yourselves up in profound darkness, and confei the 
 benefit on two or three alone, when you might benefit all w ere. 
 
 iiXXiuv iigairSa/, ras vv\o rov y'ivou; ’ 
 
 * De Abrah. f. 3G4, s. 19. 
 f De vita Mosis, I. f. 625, s. 27. 
 
 £ecc. 
 
 * De victimas, f. 238, at the end, s. 3. , 
 
 § De victimas ofierentib. fY S56, s. 12: Mu aw; 
 
AT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 73 
 
 you willing to publish in the market-place what you pretend is 
 universally wholesome, so that all might certaiidy participate 
 in a better and happier life ?” He then points to the fact, that 
 in the great and glorious works of nature there is no mystery, 
 all is open. He bears witness to the mere empty mechanical 
 formalities into which the mysteries had degenerated ; men, 
 he says, of the worst character, and crowds of abandoned 
 women, were initiated for money. 
 
 These religious philosophers among the Alexandrian Jew's, 
 of whom we speak, cannot be rightly understood and judged 
 of, except by taking into view both their entire position,— 
 which had been formed upon a combination of the most con¬ 
 tradictory elements,—and also their relation to the two oppo¬ 
 site parties, between which they were endeavouring to find a 
 true conciliatory mean. On the one hand, they firmly adhered 
 to the religion of their fathers. They were devoted to it with 
 genuine love and reverence, and looked upon its records as 
 the w'ork of the Divine Spirit. Whatever was contained in these 
 records, and particularly in the Pentateuch, passed with them 
 as, in one and the same sense, divine. From these, in their 
 opinion, were to be draw’n all the stores of wisdom. On the 
 other hand, their minds w'ere possessed by a philosophical 
 culture at variance with these convictions. They were them¬ 
 selves not unconscious of the conflicting elements that filled 
 their minds, and must have felt constrained to seek some 
 artificial method of combining them into a harmonious Avhole. 
 Thus they would be involuntarily driven to intercalate in the 
 old records of religion, which for them possessed the highest 
 authority, a sense foreign to their true spirit, supposing all 
 the while that they w'ere thereby really exalting their dignity 
 as the source of all w'isdom. 
 
 As to the parties between which they moved, and u'hich, in 
 their interpretation of the sacred writings, they had especially 
 in mind, they W'ere two; and these stood in some degree re¬ 
 lated to the two several tendencies, under which the philosophy 
 of religion according to Platonism, as we have already set it 
 forth, had gone on to shape itself among the Pagans —a scep¬ 
 tical and a superstitious tendency. On the one side were philo¬ 
 sophically educated Greeks, who employed w'hat they knew' of 
 the Old Testament Scriptures according to their different turns 
 of thinking; either ridiculing them in a scoffing spirit, or wdth 
 
74 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 more earnestness of intention, and stepping forth as the cham¬ 
 pions of true piety, and charging them with unworthy repre¬ 
 sentations of God.* And among the Jews themselves, there 
 were some who, under the influence of foreign learning, hail 
 rejected the religion of their fathers, and joined its pagan 
 assailants. On the other side were the Pharisaical scribes, 
 no less arrogant than narrow-minded, who, apprehending 
 the things of God in none but a fleshly sense, sought the 
 highest wisdom in little verbal refinements, and by their 
 grossly literal interpretations were led into the most absurd 
 and extravagant opinions |—men who, from their fundamental 
 priciple of adhering to tire letter, and their low, carnal views, 
 came to form the rudest notions of God and divine things,— 
 of God’s shape, of his anger, of his arbitrary will,—and by 
 such notions contributed more than all else to bring Judaism 
 into contempt with the educated Greeks, j: 
 
 IMow the object of those Jewish philosophers in religion, 
 like that of the heathen Platonists, was, by making a distinc¬ 
 tion, in the old records of religion, between spirit and letter, 
 idea and symbol, to strike out a middle course betwixt the 
 above extremes. There was this truth lying at the basis of 
 
 * Thus Philo, in his second book De plantatione Noae, s. 17, defends 
 the Old Testament against those who objected as blasphemous to the 
 expression where God is called an inheritance (xXv£o;~) of men, as. for 
 instance, with reference to the JLevites. K a) vuv thr'i Tin; tZv lonu.oD- 
 
 <patyvraiv tutrifizitzv, ol to Ti>o‘x,Z‘t’M rou Xoyou oru^a/ruxoipavTouo'i, (putrxovr;; ov§' 
 tii7iov out’ o.tripaXi; Xiyuv ivSiworou Ussv x'ay, oov. e might suppose that this 
 attack on the Old Testament proceeded from Jews who, by the pre¬ 
 ponderant influence of their Greek education, had become alienated from 
 the religion of their fathers, and inclined to a certain species of Deism 
 that avoided authropopathism. But the manner in which Philo ex¬ 
 presses himself seems to favour rather the conjecture that he had pagans 
 in view, for, if he were speaking of apostate Jews, his language would 
 doubtless have been more vehement and bitter, as it usually is in such 
 cases. It is also, I think, to such pagan maligners of the Old Testament 
 that he alludes in a passage to be found only in the Armenian translation 
 of Qusest. in Genes. 1. III. s. 3, ed Lips. opp. Philon. T. VII. p. 5. 
 t Philo (De somniis, 1. I. f. 580, s. 17) describes them thus: T ob; t 
 
 TTQCLyfLa.rua.; (raipurrccs xct'i Xlccv ra.$ oQgv; 
 
 \ Thus Philo (De plantat. Noae, 1. II. f. 219, s. 8) directs his discourse 
 against those who took everything in a literal sense in the account of 
 Paradise. He says of them : naxx>i xa.) 'huuSwaonuTo; r, i'vr&ua.. He says, 
 those sensual notions of God led to the destruction of practical religion . 
 
 tor’ ivtnfiiicr.; xai otIottitos xa.§ccio'-(7'i ixSitrf/ioraru ovtu. ivfrt.Uja.Tu.. 
 
AT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 75 
 
 their endeavours, that, in statements which relate to the reli¬ 
 gious province, matter and form do not bear the same relation 
 to each other as they do in other writings ; that here, where 
 the form is something that cannot fully answer to the immea¬ 
 surable greatness of the matter, the mind, with its thoughts 
 directed towards the divine, must read between the lines in 
 order to discern the divine matter in its earthly vessel. This 
 principle had, moreover, a special justification when applied 
 to the Old Testament, inasmuch as within the latter dwelt a 
 spirit enveloped under a form still more limited and more 
 limiting than elsewhere, which struggled after a future revela¬ 
 tion and development, which was to free it from sucli narrow 
 constraint. But as the consciousness of this spirit which 
 Christianity first revealed was wanting to the Jews, it was 
 nowise unnatural if' in interpreting the religion of their fathers 
 they allowed themselves to be guided by a foreign spirit. It 
 was from such a foreign principle, borrowed from the Platonic 
 philosophy, that they started in search of the key which should 
 open to them the spiritual understanding of the Old Testament. 
 Instead of making all its contents bear upon the ends of prac¬ 
 tical religion, they did but hunt everywhere after universal 
 ideas, hid only under an allegorical cover,—such ideas as their 
 own minds had formed in familiarity with the Platonic philo¬ 
 sophy. To excite all susceptible minds to explore these ideas, 
 was, they asserted, the highest aim of those writings. 
 
 One extreme opposed itself to the other. Over against that 
 slavery to the letter which characterized a narrow, sensual 
 JRabbinism , stood a tendency to evaporate everything into 
 universals. The necessary means of arriving at a knowledge 
 of the spirit, which was shrouded in the letter, were despised. 
 The neglect of the useful means of logical, grammatical, and 
 historical interpretation, met its penalty; manifold were the 
 delusions which ensued. A perfect stranger to the history, 
 the manners, and the language of the ancient people, and 
 despising the rules of grammatical and logical interpretation, 
 a Philo found many difficulties in the Greek version of the 
 so-called Seventy Interpreters, in which he was accustomed 
 to read the Old Testament,—a version, indeed, which was 
 not only current at Alexandria, but which, on account of the 
 story of its miraculous origin, was of the highest authority. 
 They were difficulties, however, which by means of the ordi- 
 
76 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 nary helps above mentioned lie might have easily solved. He 
 frequently overlooked the simplest and most obvious sense, 
 and sought instead for one more profound, which, however, was 
 merely what he himself had put into the words.* But in 
 addition to this, a mistaken reverence for the sacred writings, 
 an exaggerated view of the operation of the Holy Spirit, which 
 looked" upon the inspired writers merely as passive organs, 
 contributed in no slight degree to the difficulties of men who 
 regarded everything as in one and the same sense divine, and 
 wholly overlooked the medium of connection between the 
 divine and the human. At the position in which they had 
 thus placed themselves they naturally found much that was 
 difficult and revolting—much that they must seek to get rid 
 of by an arbitrary spiritualization. Thus an unduly superna- 
 turalistic element of the Jewish position led directly to the 
 opposite extreme of an arbitrary rationalism,t—an error which 
 might have been avoided by that method of reconciling the 
 supernatural and the natural which we have already noticed 
 as the views of Plutarch. 
 
 Yet these Alexandrian Jews were well aware of the differ¬ 
 ence between the mythical religion of other nations and the 
 historical religion of their own people. They did, it is true, 
 consider the historical and literal to be but a veil for those 
 universal ideas, the communication of which to the human 
 mind was the highest aim of God’s revelations. But still 
 on the whole they also insisted on the objecfive reality 
 and truth of the history and of the letter, and ascribed to 
 both their importance as a means of religious and moral 
 training for such as could not soar to the necessary heights of 
 contemplation. Far was it from their thoughts to deny the 
 reality of the supernatural in the history of their nation, or to 
 allow it no more than an ideal significancy. “ He who dis¬ 
 believes the miraculous,” says Philo, in defending the Old 
 Testament history, “ simply as the miraculous, neither knows 
 God, nor has he ever sought after Him ; for otherwise he 
 
 * We have a remarkable example in the work Quis rerum divinar. 
 limves f. 492, s. 16 , where, in the phrase i \nyayiv avrov he looks for 
 some deeper meaning in the apparently unnecessary repetition of the 
 word ‘i'iu ; and again, in the case where the repetition of the noun, 
 according to the Hebrew usage, leads him to conceive of a two-fold sub¬ 
 ject, and furnishes him an occasion of introducing his idea of the Logos. 
 
 f’ ,l Einer rationalistisch-idealistiscben Willkuhr.” 
 
AX ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 77 
 
 would have understood, by looking at that truly great and 
 awe-inspiring sight, the miracle of the Universe, that these 
 miracles (in God’s providential guidance of Ilis people) 
 are but child’s play for the divine power.* But the truly 
 miraculous has become despised through familiarity. The 
 unusual, on the contrary, although in itself insignificant, vet, 
 tlnough our love of novelty, transports us with amazement.”j" 
 Still there were isolated passages, the literal understanding 
 of which presented insurmountable difficulties,—difficulties, it 
 might be, for any rational apprehension whatever, or for their 
 minds, from the particular position which they had taken up 
 in their philosophy of religion. Such especially were the 
 passages, in interpreting which, the Rabbins who explained 
 everything according to the letter, fell, no doubt, into absurd 
 and fantastic representations; as, for instance, in the account 
 of Paradise. Now here it was beyond the power of the Alex- 
 andrian -Jews to find from their own point of view such a means 
 of conciliation between the divine and the human as should 
 answer the requirements of reason ; by distinguishing between 
 the fundamental fact and the purely symbolical character of a 
 form of tradition. They were therefore forced to push the oppo¬ 
 sition to the literal mode of interpretation so far as to deny the 
 reality of the literal and historical facts altogether, and to re¬ 
 cognise only some ideal truth, some universal thought, that 
 presented itself out of the train of speculations created by a 
 fusion of the Platonic philosophy with the religious ideas of 
 Judaism4 But, in maintaining such views, it was far from 
 the intention of a Philo to derogate from the authority of the 
 sacred writings. On the contrary, as he referred everything 
 they contained to the inspiration of the Divine Spirit, so he 
 recognised the wisdom of that Spirit in permitting the writers 
 actuated by Him to represent many things in such a form 
 as, literally understood, could give no tenable sense whatever • 
 
 „ , P ft v * ta p os ' s ’ U- s - 38 : E/’ 2= r/ f toutois inf,-s7, Bxov out 
 
 OJ. tutoti.^ Eyvai yet £ «y xuBxuf, on to. Ta.Duho\u Sri tuutu kui 
 
 Tu.ou.Xoya Biou oraidia i,nv, Zti^Zv il; to. tZ ovti yxyuXu. xai iTTouhr,; aha 
 yiviffiv ovgavov. x. <r. X. * ’ 
 
 y <iX»Bi,av MTU Bauyanu, xuTUTt<p ? Zvr,Txi rZ ffvroBu. T a 
 
 di yn 'ȣ.>!; XUI uv y,x^u r, xa.Ta.TXnTToy.iBa. tZ <piXoKU.hu. 
 
 I After pointing out the difficulty of understanding in a literal sense 
 the account of the creation of the woman in Genesis, Philo concludes 
 tnus : lo f UTOV TO'JTOU y.vBZol; ii m. Legis. alleg. 1. II. s. 7. 
 
78 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 for the end of this was that those who otherwise would be 
 tempted to rest satisfied with the bare letter, and search no 
 farther, might be excited to investigate the ideal sense which 
 lav beneath it * To conduct men to this was, in truth, the 
 highest aim of the divine revelations. Hence such stones ot 
 stumbling were of necessity scattered here and there, as means 
 of excitement for the spiritually blind.y ... , 
 
 Hence men came to take up two positions in respect 
 to religion and the interpretation of its records; that ot a 
 faith clinging to the letter and to the history, and that of a 
 contemplation which aspired to the ideas veiled under e 
 historical and the literal facts. The first was, as we see, on 
 the whole, common to both positions. Y et many an opposition 
 arose at the point where the higher spiritual apprehension did 
 not admit of being joined with an adherence to the reality of 
 the literal and historical facts, but required the abandonment 
 of the latter. This, however, was not the only difference 
 between the two positions. The difference lying at the root, 
 and which further developed itself, could not fail to exei a 
 more wide-reaching influence on the whole mode of unde - 
 standin 0 ' religion. From this source sprang such opposite 
 views as follow. By those who invariably adhered to t le 
 principle of a barely literal interpretation, whatever had been 
 said after an anthropopathic manner, in condescension to the 
 sensuous apprehensions of the multitude, concerning God and 
 God’s wrath and his vindictive justice, was taken literally. 
 Such an apprehension of religion after human analogies is 
 however for a certain stage of culture, indispensable, as being 
 the best adapted to it, and the most likely to deter men from 
 n by the dread of punishment. But a higher and more 
 spiritual position sees in it only a preparatory and educaMona 
 element, and proceeds to purify the idea of God from all 
 admixture of the human.l Hence the opposition between the 
 apprehension of God as man, and the apprehension of God not 
 
 
 pYIZ 
 
 Quod deterior 
 
 * Moy*V OUK 
 
 Quod Dens immutab. 
 
 tself and that which had been merely so expressed. 
 
 - mtyvKivcu roiovrov ilvai, XiXiKrea. 
 
AT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 79 
 
 as man.* By the exclusion of every human passion, the idea 
 of God was sublimated to a something devoid of all attributes, 
 wholly transcendental; and the Being, (oV,) the good, in and 
 by itself, the Absolute of Platonism, was substituted for the 
 Jehovah of the Old Testament. By soaring upward, beyond 
 all created existence, the mind, disengaging itself from the 
 sensible, attains to the intellectual intuition of this Absolute 
 Being, of whom, however, it can predicate nothing but exist¬ 
 ence, and sets aside all other determinations as not answering 
 to the exalted nature of the Supreme Essence, j In perfect 
 accordance with this opposition of views, Philo makes a dis¬ 
 tinction between those who are in the proper sense sons of 
 God, having by means of contemplation raised themselves to 
 the highest Being, or attained to a knowledge of him in his 
 immediate self-manifestation,% and those who know God only 
 in his mediate revelation through his operations—such as He 
 declares § himself in creation—in the revelation still veiled in 
 the letter of scripture-—those, in short, who attach themselves 
 simply to the Logos, and consider this to be the Supreme God 
 —who are the sons of the Logos rather than of the true Being 
 (or). The former, moreover, need no other incentives to a 
 moral life than love to the Supreme Being for Jus own sake— 
 the principle of disinterested love of God. The others, who 
 find themselves at that lower position where God is known only 
 after the analogy of man, must be trained to virtue by the hope 
 
 * This opposition between a positive apprehension of God as man, and 
 a negative apprehension of God, to the exclusion of all human attributes 
 and everything authropopathic, occurs often in Philo’s writings. The 
 comparison of Numb. 23, 19, and Deut. 1, 31, may be said to be 
 classical with him on this subject. "£v on ov% as kySfawos b 3A, 
 ‘sVsfav 2s, on Li Quod Deus immutab. s. 11. Compare also 
 
 the Armenian translation of the tract Qumst. in Genes. 1. 1. s. 55. 
 
 f Oblifiiu ray yiyovbruv iSsa ora^afiaXXotJO-i to by, aU' sx/3 ifoairayTSs ctirrb 
 ircarns Woiotvtos \piXr,y kyiv ^a^axrri^o; r>)v bora^iy xaraXaft,(oaytirBa.i, rhy 
 xa.ro. TO siiai tya.yr outlay fj,ov/iv iysh^ayro, ft'n ft. o £ <p a a a y r t s auro. 
 
 Quod Deus immutab. s. 11. 
 
 + To this knowledge of God in his self-manifestation Philo refers in 
 the following passage: Jlij \fjLtya.yi<r§iins foot li oiigayou b yyjs b Zharo; D ki(fOS 
 n nvo; aorXus ray iv yivimt, ftnli xaroTT^Ktaiftny tv liXXa ny] rriv trbv 12s«> ri s* 
 co'i TU A U, etc. Vid. Leg. allegor. 1. III. s. 33. And where he says that, 
 as light can be seen only by means of light, so God only by his own 
 St ll-manitestation. jvoXojs TO (flas a.ff ou (flan fbXiortTou ; tcv aurbv 2s rfrroy 
 xal o 9-iO! iaurou tpiyyo ; uv 2/ a'oTov fj.oyov §iu(>ilrai. De praem. et posn. S. 7. 
 
 § The opposition between by and x'oyos, uoai and xiywSai. 
 
80 
 
 THE JUDAISM 
 
 of reward and the fear of punishment. Philo himself remarks, 
 that correspondent to the two theories which respectively repre¬ 
 sent God as man, or not as man, there are in religion two prin¬ 
 ciples of fear and of love.* Those that have attained to the 
 last-mentioned stage are, in his view, the men of pure intellect 
 or pure spirit, who have freed themselves from the dominion of 
 
 S6I1S6. 
 
 Thus, to the sensuous anthropo-morphism and anthropopa- 
 thism, which characterised the grosser mode of apprehension 
 among the Alexandrian Jews, Philo opposed a one-sided spirit¬ 
 ualism, whereby the idea of God was emptied of all deter¬ 
 minate contents. The real side of the Old Testament Theism 
 the objective truth and reality, which is the basis of the Old 
 Testament notions of God’s holiness, of his wrath, and of his 
 retributive justice, were by this means totally misapprehended, 
 and all such ideas of God were explained away by a spiritual¬ 
 ism far better suited to the Brahminic or the Buddhistic system, 
 than to the characteristic peculiarity of the religion of the Old 
 Testament. We have here, then, already a mystical nation¬ 
 alism brought into combination with the Jewish Supra- 
 naturalism —a prototype of tendencies which, at a later period, 
 frequently recur, when the purity of revealed religion has be¬ 
 come corrupted. The very individual who, as. we have seen, 
 so strongly condemned the Grecian mysteries, introduced into 
 Judaism"that aristocratic distinction of the ancient, world, be¬ 
 tween an esoteric and an exoteric religion; and with it, after 
 the example of Platonism, the justification of falsehood as a 
 necessary means for training the incapable; multitude.T 
 
 Now the principle of mystic Rationalism, if pushed to its 
 extreme consequences, would unquestionably lead to the nnei- 
 
 * iW o lu, rot; Wi ^ *«' 
 
 r £ oby is i »*« ' « 
 
 ^ iyiW ™ 7 ; aM V ccLri 
 
 ® a /s.r^«. » WtpH. Quod Deus immutab. s. 14. 
 
 + Vid. Quod Deus immutab. s. 14, and De Cherubim, s. y, m both 
 which passages the well-known words of Plato in the Republic, relatino 
 to falsehoods that may be justified in certain cases where they can be 
 used for the benefit of simple persons or the sick. Vid. 1. 11. p. _o/, u 
 III p or,6, Vol. VI. Ed. Bipont. These remarks of Plato, which were 
 grounded, indeed, in the whole aristocratic spirit of the ancient world, 
 exerted through various intermediate channels, a great influence 
 the moral sense of men in the first centuries after Chnst, and even 
 modified a part ot Christian education. 
 
AT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 81 
 
 ence that positive religion is to be regarded simp ]y as a means 
 for training the many—a means which the wise can afford to 
 dispense with, and which for them can have no significancv. 
 And, in fact, by many of the Alexandrian Jews this mode 
 of thinking was carried to a height which must finally have 
 resulted in the denial of the supra-naturalist principle itself. 
 They neglected the observance of the ceremonial law, thus 
 drawing upon themselves the charge of heresy front the more 
 religious Jews, and, doubtless, brought the entire Alexan¬ 
 drian theology into bad repute.* “ The observance of outward 
 forms of worship,” they said, “ belongs to the many. We, who 
 know that the whole is but a symbolical veil of spiritual truth, 
 have enough in the idea, and need not concern ourselves with 
 external forms.” But with the habit of thinking peculiar to 
 Philo and his class, and which has been explained above, such 
 an extreme, though his own avowed principles naturally led 
 to it, did not well harmonize. Accordingly he says of the 
 more decided and consistent Idealists, “ As if they lived in a 
 desert and for themselves, or as if they were souls without 
 bodies and knew nothing of human society, they despise the 
 faith of the many, and will hear nothing but pure truth, such 
 as it is in and by itself; whereas the word of God ought to 
 have taught them to strive after a good name with the people, 
 and to violate none of the reigning customs which divine men, 
 who were superior to us, have established. As we are bound 
 to take care of the body, because it is the tabernacle of the 
 soul, so we ought to be solicitous for the observance of the 
 letter of the law. Where we observe the latter, the former 
 also, of which the letter is a symbol, will become clearer, and 
 we shall thereby escape the censures and upbraidings of the 
 multitude.” f 
 
 In Egypt, the native land, in after times, of the anchorite 
 and of monasticism, this contemplative bent of the religious 
 mind, which we have liitherto been describing, led to results 
 among the Jews somewhat analogous to that later phenomenon. 
 With a view of devoting themselves to the contemplation of 
 divine things, many withdrew from the world and retired into 
 
 * Philo, De migvat. Abraami, s. 16: EW r/vsf, oi rol>: pvirou; v'j(jlovs 
 
 sruy.fioXcc vo^tujv ^^cc'ypcu.Tcoj u , 7ro?>.cc{jtjpc&vovr'; y rrcc piAv pa5iy.co$ 
 
 atXiy&iprjtrav* 
 
 t Do migrat. Abraami, f. 402. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 solitude. Philo was one of these; but he was now to learn, 
 in his own experience, that man carries his inward enemy with 
 him into solitude—that he cannot flee from himself and the 
 world within his own breast. He thus paints his experience :* 
 a often I did leave kindred, friends, and country, and retire 
 into the wilderness, that I might raise my thoughts to worthy 
 contemplations ; but I gained nothing thereby. My thoughts, 
 either distracted, or wounded by some impure impression, fell 
 into the very opposite current. Sometimes, when God dispels 
 the tumult from my breast, in the midst of thousands, I find 
 myself alone with my soul. Thus He teaches me that it is not 
 change of place that brings evil or good, but that all depends 
 on that God who steers the ship of the soul in whatever direc¬ 
 tion he pleases.” At an early period there arose,, then, among 
 the Alexandrian Jews, as Philo testifies, an opposition between 
 a contemplative and a practical direction of the religious life— 
 the opposition between efforts directed solely towaids the hu¬ 
 man, and those directed solely to the divine f—the Therapeutic 
 life, devoted entirely to God, and the moral life, devoted en¬ 
 tirely to exhibitions of love for man. Already was a spectacle 
 to be witnessed, which, at later periods, became a common 
 occurrence in large cities. The opposition of the worldly 
 to the contemplative ascetic propensity became the occasion ot 
 divisions in the domestic circle. Philo observes that he knew 
 many a father, given to luxurious living, abashed by the ab¬ 
 stemious, philosophic life of a son, and who for that reason 
 withdrew from all intercourse with him 4 
 
 As Philo laboured to discover a middle course between the 
 slavish adherents to the letter and the Spiritualists in reli¬ 
 gion, so again he sought to find a method of reconciling 
 the practical and the contemplative tendency, the anthro¬ 
 pological and the theological. The combination of both was, 
 
 * Leg. allegor. 1. II. s. 21. 
 
 + As Philo describes it. Of the latter tendency he_ says: 
 
 tov vlSov *°XXk x a! ( uv ‘Pi*™*™? &XXa,}* e *y- 
 
 uarllcu;' SXtu av&E/rav Toy o Uu»> fa* »*«««<? °' * 
 
 ivSouXiu; lutaien 1/xorovricra.vTz; timi pht jv rvv t^oj i&jtuirovs epiXiaii wr-rar- 
 
 a ,rl t«v t£ ZyzSSr rb XZ*™ 
 
 3.<»& *«Ta ibqut '1 he and the <f ■*«, V- 
 
 De decalogo, s. 2. , , „ 
 
 + "HS» Be xa'c oroETE^as oTBa B/a to a/sooS/a/Tov, ai/TT?)ooy xai QiXo/roQtiv fiio » a *' 
 
 xail! alia tov iyooy r?,; n'oXiu; o/Wv IXtpivoos. Ue pro- 
 
 fugis, s. 1. 
 
THE THERAPETJTjE. 
 
 83 
 
 in his opinion, the more perfect way; each, by itself and apart 
 from the other, being as it were but half the whole.* The 
 discipline of the practical life he regarded as the first step of 
 purification and preparation necessary before entering upon 
 the entirely contemplative life. Even he felt himself called 
 upon to protest against an exaggerated estimation of an asce- 
 tical life. “ When you see one,” says he, “ who never takes his 
 food or drink at the proper time, and who disdains the bath 
 and the oil, or who neglects the clothing of Iris body, or tor¬ 
 ments himself with a hard couch and night-watchings, deceiv¬ 
 ing himself with this show of abstemiousness, instruct him in 
 the true way to continence, since the course he has chosen is 
 labour thrown away. Ey hunger and similar kinds of self-tor¬ 
 ture he is but destroying both body and soul.” f He speaks of 
 people who, wholly unripe for such a step, rushed suddenly on 
 a strictly Therapeutic life they were too weak to endure, and 
 so were quickly forced to abandon it.± Nay, he feels himself 
 called upon to rebuke a secret wickedness which hid itself be¬ 
 neath the cloak of a rigid asceticism.§ “ Truth,” he says, 
 ‘‘may justly complain of those who, without previous trial of 
 themselves, abandon the occupations of social life, and say 
 they have renounced its honours and its pleasures. They put 
 on a contempt for the world as an outside show, while in 
 reality they are far from despising it. That slovenly, austere 
 look, that abstemious and miserable life, they use as baits, as if 
 they were friends to strict morals and self-control. But closer 
 observers, who penetrate within, and are not to be deceived by 
 outward appearances, cannot thus be imposed upon.” Philo 
 i would have only those who had been tried in the active duties 
 | of social life to devote themselves to the contemplative life, 
 i Thus the Levites were not permitted to rest from the active 
 j service of the temple till they had passed their fiftieth year. 
 
 ! Human virtue should go first—the divine follow after. || 
 
 Hf/jiriXus mv aginjv, oXoxXriovi oi irao uujtyor'iooi; tuSoxiUiOVi/ns- De 
 i decalogo, s. 32. 
 
 t 1 he tract Quoil deterior potiori insid. s. 7. 
 j J Such as went irr’ aiiXus rUg Sigavrs/a; and SaTrov 7 i T/iomXSh7v u.xi-rrr 
 
 j 2srxv, rriv auaTyoav diairav ccu<77i; xui rriv cxvyrvoy ccgtffxttuv xcii rov auvs^yj xcc) 
 
 I axxfjjX'rov grovov o’vx inyxovrs;. Dc profugis, S, 7. 
 
 § L. c. s. 6. 
 
 || rvwcitrSnri ovv rri xclt dv^pugrou; upirri. "vu xrj.) ry, grpc; S‘.ov <rvtr- 
 
 ru.§7,-i. De profugis, f. 555, s. 6. 
 
84 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 This ascetic, contemplative propensity, which we observed in 
 the bud among the Alexandrian Jews, gave birth to a spi¬ 
 ritual societv, consisting of men and unmarried women, wind 
 sprano- up in the neighbourhood of Alexandria; a socie y, 
 whose^ name simply—the Therapeutm ♦—denotes the striving 
 after a life abstracted from worldly pursuits and devoteu to t le 
 contemplation of God. Their principal seat was in a quiet 
 an d pleasant district on the border of lake Mcens, not far fiom 
 Alexandria. Here they lived, like the later anchorites, shu 
 mi in separate cells,t their only employment being prayer an ! 
 the contemplation of divine things. The basis of their con 
 emulations was an allegorical interpretation of scripture, and 
 they had old theosophical writings, which, following the prin- 
 cipL of the Alexandrian Hermeneutics, served to guide them 
 in their more profound investigations of scripture. Bread an 
 wate^ constituted their only diet and they P-W frequ nt 
 fasting. They ate nothing until evening, for through co 
 tempt*of the body they were ashamed, so long as sunlight was 
 3e bv taking bodily nourishment, to acknowledge this de- 
 pendence on the wl/of sense. .Many of them fe ed 
 three or even six days in succession. Eier> Sabbath they 
 assembled together, and, as the number seven was particularly 
 sacred with them, they held a still more solemn convocation once 
 in every seven weeks. On this occasion they held a simple 
 love feast consisting of bread seasoned with salt and hyssop ; 
 
 were delivered, hymns which had been handed 
 down by ancient tradition were sung, and, amidst choral music, 
 dances "of mystic import were kept up late into the nig . 
 The passage of their fathers through the Red Sea, on their de¬ 
 parture from Egypt, is supposed to have been symbolically 
 represented by these choirs and dances. As it was their habit 
 to give to all historical facts a higher signification, which rmght 
 bear upon the life of the spirit, it is not improbable that they 
 intended something of the kind by this celebration. 1 erhaps 
 they considered the departure from Egypt as a symbol.of 
 deliverance of the spirit from the bondage of sense, and of its 
 elevation from sensible things to the divine. I 
 
 Many features of relationship between the sect of the Ihe- 
 
 * ew'vr*! Bteaa-tvrfiSlf' t ^ Tah 
 
 % See Philo, De sacrif. Abel et Cann, s. 1/ : tuafia,,-, .<r. 
 
TOE TttERAPEUTJE. 
 
 8o 
 
 rapcutae and that of the Essenes might seem to render pro¬ 
 bable the derivation of the one from the other; and this is the 
 prevailing opinion of modern times. It might also be fancied 
 that the names of both these communities have the same sig¬ 
 nification. For if we follow the derivation which Philo 
 himself favours in a passage of the book concerning the Thera¬ 
 peutic mode of life, the name of this sect according to one 
 sense^of the radical Greek word signifies a physician ; and if 
 the Essenes* so denominated themselves as being physicians 
 of the soul and of the body, it would be evident that the one 
 is but a translation of the other. But this explanation of 
 the name of the Therapeutse can hardly be the right one. 
 On the contrary, it suits much better with the peculiar 
 spiritual bent of the Therapeutse, and with the theological 
 language of the Alexandrians, to suppose that they applied 
 this name to themselves, as the true spiritual worshippers of 
 God—the Contemplatists.-j- The features of resemblance be¬ 
 tween these societies, which arise both from the form of their 
 fraternities and from the common circumstance of their pro¬ 
 hibiting slavery as contrary to nature, are by no means such 
 as to warrant the inference of an external relationship. 
 Analogous tendencies of the Jewish mind in Palestine, and 
 of the Jewish-Alexandrian mind in Egypt, might have easily 
 produced two such mystic societies, independently of one an¬ 
 other, and in forms respectively adapted to the different coun¬ 
 tries. The Essenes, as we have seen, owed their origin to the 
 existence of a practical mysticism, which is wont to be called 
 forth by all such conflicting opinions as were then rife ; and 
 in the same way the society of the Therapeutse appears the 
 natural emanation of the peculiar religious tendency which 
 had developed itself among the Alexandrian Jews. 
 
 E either the Essenes nor the Therapeutse ought, to be re¬ 
 garded as isolated phenomena, confined exclusively to the 
 
 * After the Chaldee 'DN, physician. 
 
 f Philo often uses the following expressions as synonymous:— ysvc; 
 
 Sloceerivrixcv, ysvo; ixinxov, yin; ogetnxay, i IrpeebX = £vb,e> ooebv rev £>iov. 
 De VICtimas _ offerentib. f. 854. ixlrce, zee', fyeewree) 'rob ivreo; ivrou 
 De monarches, f. 816. eLvho'o; Ixirou zee , <p,XoSiov Ssev [S.cvov S‘pceenb',v 
 celio-jvres. ' De decalogo, f. 760. o', iroXXb. X ee!^,v Qoelrcevri; ree7 : ZxXee,; 
 
 I r^ccy^eertiais, oXov aviSircev rov oixiTov fblov 3 i o ee or i', a' •„ oZ. L. III. De 
 vita. Mosis, f. C81. ro Ssecconvnzov cebroZ (roZ 3sov)‘ ylvo;. 
 
86 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 i . i ,r -u r i tv, P ; r birth. They were based on 
 
 rr: w j »^ ^ * 
 
 the times g and the influence of which was ad that tune more 
 widely spread than merely in Palestine and Egypt. It is dis- 
 ■ .J visible in manifold phenomena which the histon of 
 SEMwS S, in the first centuries after Christ, leads 
 
 rf «* > liffere T nt (,irections 
 
 tn Christianity. Looking at the great mass of the Jem n 
 eonle it would appear that a predominating worldly spin , 
 K P ch couU form n P o„e but a sensuous apprehension of the 
 divine a ra-e for the marvellous as described by bt Paul 
 confidence in the inalienable rights of Aeir theoo^trc decent 
 after the flesh, and in the outward show of legal n 0 hte< 
 
 “T constituted the chief obstacles to the reception of the 
 ioSel Whenever, under the impulse of momentary impres- 
 fS men Of this east of mind were led to.embmce Cip¬ 
 riani ty, it is nothing surprising 
 
 Cm" in-lhrirtode of ftiinHng, th«hly 
 renounced that to> "- J d be Chris tians out- 
 
 Sfv thet wSe’net 1 imbued with the spirit of the 
 gospel Christianity itself was apprehended by them only 
 after a carnal manner, being mixed up with then Jew ish 
 delusions and the faith in one God, as well as in Jesus as the 
 Messiah, ivas by 
 
 without influence on the inner life. They were such a mu 
 
 whom Justin Martyr describes,! deceiving 
 
 the notion that, although they were sinners, yet, it they 
 
 • The language of Philo himself huimams this when he says ofthe 
 
 »• - 
 
 r T”ft?Sogf a- Tryph, f ™ g ££ 
 
 rected against such Jews, argui g _ ■ lavral; >aa) 
 
 sin without _ repentance^ Z S* * 
 
 trivis QiAQioi vujiv octree rovro, y j , 
 
 y n a<r X uw, av fib Xaylrnrai aura,; quotas a/xa^na,. 
 
ITS RELATIONS TO CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 87 
 
 but the knowledge of God,* the Lord would not charge them 
 with sin ; falsifiers of the gospel, like those whom the apostle 
 Paul so often rebukes ; the nominal Christians whom James 
 writes against. But as the Pagans, on the other hand, were 
 not under tire same temptation to confound a merely prepara¬ 
 tory state with the end itself, Christianity must have pre¬ 
 sented itself to them as the direct contrary of all that they 
 had been before. Hence, as Justin Martyr affirms, more 
 numerous .and at the same time more genuine converts were 
 made from the Gentiles than from the Jews.f Yet in every 
 case where the feeling of the higher requisitions of man’s nature, 
 an open sensibility to the divine influence, showed itself, there, 
 however it might be enveloped in some still prevailing sen¬ 
 suous element, Christianity could penetrate through the outward 
 veil. In such hearts the expectation of the Messiah, although 
 clouded by a strong tinge of sensuality, could prepare the way 
 for Him, and they would then, through the power of Christian 
 faith, go on, becoming continually more spiritual in their views. 
 
 As to the particular systems of Jewish theology which have 
 passed under our review, we may observe, first, of the cold, 
 egoistic Sadduceeism, which checked every aspiration trans- 
 scending the limits of earthly existence, that it presented no 
 point of contact for the gospel. At least, when, through that 
 simply human feeling which could not wholly be suppressed,, 
 it did occasionally find an entrance among the Sadducees, as it 
 did everywhere else, their previous mode of thinking had in 
 nowise prepared the way for such a conversion. And for 
 the very reason that the previous habits of thought formed 
 here no transition-point nor connecting medium between the 
 two, it is impossible to think of any intermingling of Sad¬ 
 duceeism with Christianity. It has" been attempted to find 
 traces of such a mixture in the instance of certain teachers 
 who in the apostolic age denied the doctrine of the resurrec¬ 
 tion. Lut this has been done without sufficient grounds ; for 
 the fact may be traced to wholly different causes, i 
 
 * Such vain and empty knowledge of God as that which St. John is 
 contending against in his first epistle. 
 
 f Justin Martyr, Apolog. 1. II. f. 88. ITAhW, „ 
 
 h , T " V a J° ’ louluiuii Kc.t ’Zap.az'tuv xyerwovs, uXvSimpo, al ivo 
 t&jv sirv&v xcu crurrore^oi. 
 
 * See my History of the Planting and Training of the Christian 
 Church by the Apostles. 
 
S8 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 In the case of the Pharisees, spiritual pride, self-righteous¬ 
 ness, the narrow and arrogant conceit in a dead knowledge o 
 scripture, and the absence of that quality which belongs to 
 those whom our Lord calls the poor in spirit, were in general 
 the hindrances to faith. We must be careful, however, to 
 distinguish among the Pharisees the two classes which have 
 been already pointed out. To those who, from the legal 
 position, were striving with a certain honest earnestness alter 
 righteousness, the law might, without doubt, serve in the end 
 as a schoolmaster to bring them to Christ. Through that 
 painful struggle which St. Paul describes from his own expe¬ 
 rience, in the seventh chapter of his epistle to the Romans, 
 they might obtain peace in believing. Those, on the other 
 hand, who came to Christianity without passing through any 
 such crisis of the inner life, were liable to the temptation of 
 blending their previous Pharisaical mode of thinking with 
 the recognition of Jesus as the Messiah,—who for them, how¬ 
 ever, was not in any true sense the Saviour,—and of wishing 
 at the same time to hold fast by their righteousness of works 
 In Christianity also an element of mysticism was present. 
 In this respect it was calculated particularly to attract that 
 description of religious mind which developed itself in the 
 societies of the Essenes and Therapeutic. But the mystic 
 element if carried to an undue extreme, such as should suppress 
 every portion of what is purely human in our nature mignt 
 mislead men to intrench themselves within a little contracted 
 circle of feelings and intuitions, and to bar their hearts against 
 every other influence which might strive to penetrate them. 
 To meet Christianity with that poorness in spirit which it 
 requires, must for such men, with their imaginary spiritual 
 perfection, have been even the hardest of tasks. . And even if, 
 attracted by the mystical element of Christianity, they gave 
 themselves up to its influence, they would still be unable to 
 appropriate its poorness in spirit in any such measure as to 
 adopt Christianity in its integrity and purity Such persons 
 might easily be tempted to carry over with them their super¬ 
 cilious theosophy and asceticism, and so, in their case, the 
 divine foolishness of the gospel must forfeit its true character. 
 This has been the origin of many sects which corrupted 
 Christianity, and of which the germs are to be found already in 
 the epistle of Raul to the Colossians, and in his pastoral letters. 
 
ITS RELATIONS TO CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 89 
 
 As to the Alexandrian theology, there were in it, as we 
 have seen, two elements,—a mystico-rational element, sprung 
 from the influence of the Platonic philosophy on the Jewish 
 theism ; and a supra-naiural element, derived from the Jewish 
 national spirit and education. These were blended together, 
 or, to speak more truly, they rather subsisted alongside of each 
 other, than were united by an organic interpenetration. Had 
 not a new and higher power come in to influence this process 
 of development, one of two things must, doubtless, have been 
 the iinal result. Either the supra-natural element would 
 have been overpowered by the mystic and rational one, or 
 the latter by the former. And if the last had proved 
 the case, then the Alexandrian theology might have paved 
 the way for a certain mystic religion of reason, which would 
 have used historical Judaism simply as its outward veil. 
 Whoever then in such a state was incapable of discerning 
 the value of the supernatural theistic faith of Christianity 
 as a religion issuing from the supernatural facts of that his¬ 
 tory—to such an one this greatest of the great phenomena in 
 the history of the whole world, which with overwhelming 
 power introduced a positive religious faith once more among 
 men, must have appeared like the shock of a fearful relapse 
 by which humanity was driven many ages backwards from the 
 goal which it was on the very point of reaching. Considered 
 from such a point of view, it could not but be a matter for 
 regret that, instead of a primal type of humanity—that ethe¬ 
 real idea of Alexandrian theology—the Son of man must ap¬ 
 pear in flesh and blood ; instead of an ideal word, the Word 
 that became flesh must dwell among us. Yet the few thoughts 
 which under manifold forms are constantly recurring in the 
 writings of Philo, the representative of such a tendency, wit¬ 
 ness too truly to its poverty, and prove that without the infu¬ 
 sion of a new creative spirit of life it must of itself have soon 
 led to its own dissolution. 
 
 The two elements, however, of the Alexandrian theology, 
 might, if combined together, operate in different ways,—either 
 by affording a point of union for Christianity, or by calling 
 forth an opposition to it. 
 
 The preponderance of Grecian culture and of the idealistic 
 element must, in the case of the Alexandrian Jews, as 
 doubtless also of others—of a Josephus, for instance,—over 
 
90 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 whom the Greek learning generally had acquired a powerfu 
 influence, have operated greatly to repress the expectation of a 
 personal 3Iessiah. Together with this expectation vanished 
 the most important point of contact for Christianity ; but with it 
 vanished also that stone of stumbling which the preaching of the 
 Cross must have proved to such as gave an earthly shape to their 
 idea of the Messiah. Still we cannot suppose that the Alex¬ 
 andrian theology could have wholly rejected those expectations 
 which were so deeply rooted in the religious spirit of the 
 Jewish people, and so closely interwoven with their national 
 glory and sympathies. Even Philo expresses a conviction 
 that the Mosaic law, the temple, and its worship, are designed 
 for perpetuity.* Regarding the calamities of the Jews as a 
 righteous punishment, he still cherished the hope that they 
 would one day be converted, and by some extraordinary sign 
 from heaven be gathered from all the nations among which 
 they were dispersed or in captivity, and led back again to 
 Jerusalem. Their piety, inspiring reverence and awe, would 
 either repress the attacks of their enemies, or secure them the 
 victory. Then would a golden age begin from Jerusalem. 
 Everything was then to be restored to that primeval state 
 from which, by their loss of the heavenly image, mankind had 
 become estranged. All nature would then become once more 
 subject to man, and no hostile power should remain to annoy 
 liim.f From such statements we see what was the peculiar 
 
 * Vid. De vita Mosis, 1. II. s. 3, concerning the Mosaic laws. Td Si 
 
 tovtou fiifiaia, drdX'tira f&tvti orayiai; dfi’ r,s flio'^as iyouQn f^X ^ 1 
 
 xa) oroig t-riiTa vrdvra hafxivuv iXor); dura. au-iva aBavi-tree, tug d-i 
 
 i)Xio; xai aiXwn xa) i trvp.'Zag ol^aio; ri xa i xofftos 5- And concerning the 
 revenues of the temple at Jerusalem he says that they will endure as 
 long as this human race and the world. ’E<p’ orov to dvB^diruv yivo; 
 B/a/iSvn, ds) xa) ai <xoo<rdbot tov ilpou i puXuxBriffovTai fftnSiaimil^tvtreu oravTi 
 tu xotr/aai. De monarch. 1. II. s. 3. So far was he from thinking that 
 tlie temple would ever be destroyed, or the worship of God could cease 
 to be connected with it. 
 
 f See Philo's tract De execrationib. s. 9 : O I rgo fuxeoZ erroodh; e» 
 
 'EXXiA Ka) "Qa^fidoy, Kara vrurov; xa) xard nvt'^ou; dvaardvrt, oo/dr. pia 
 'iia ffuvri'iiovmv aXXaxo'Bsv oiXXoi tov dndhiryJdiiTa xd^ov ^itayouf^ivoi crjo'f 
 TIVOS BuoTi^a; xaTU. <pumv avBoorrlvm ovpsug dZriXov /dir irigoi;, fxivoig Si 
 
 t o7; dvaau^iyor, i/xpavov;. Comp. De prsem. et pcenis, s. 19. Concern¬ 
 ing the reconciliation of nature with reformed man, where he had certain 
 passages of the prophets before his mind, consult De prmm. et pcenis, 
 s. 15. 
 
ALEXANDRIAN JUDAISM. 
 
 91 
 
 shape which the common Jewish notions of the Messiah’s 
 time and of its attendant phenomena had taken in the spiri¬ 
 tualizing schools of Alexandria. 
 
 Thus then, in the present case also, was Christianity met, 
 not indeed by the longing for a personal Messiah, but still by 
 a desire for an universal re-establishment of the Theocracy,— 
 for a glorified state of the world. It is possible that the 
 doctrine of an opposition between the idea and its mani¬ 
 festation ; the recognition of a defect* inherent in everything 
 that appears in the world of sense; the ardent aspiration after 
 a godlike life, raised above all sensual alloy, may have kindled 
 a sense of the need of redemption,—the idea of it, and faith 
 in its actual realization. And thus many of the peculiar ideas 
 of the Alexandrian philosophy of religion, as for instance that 
 of a mediating divine Word, through whom the world is con¬ 
 nected with God; of his high-priestly office in relation to the 
 phenomenal world; of the first heavenly man ; of a godlike 
 life,| might, by conducting its advocates to Christianity, have 
 become converted from a mere ideal element into a real one. 
 To men of this Alexandrian school, Christianity might present 
 itself as a Gnosis, which now for the first time taught a right 
 understanding of the spirit of the Old Testament. 'I he epistle 
 ascribed to Barnabas contains many examples of such points 
 of transition, tlu'ough which men of the Alexandrian school 
 might have been led over to Christianity. 
 
 But it is also possible, too, that in the system of the Alex¬ 
 andrian Jews the mystico-rational element, as refusing, in its 
 self-sufficiency, to admit the want of any new revelations, 
 might, no less than the Jewish, which held fast to its own 
 traditional forms of religion as possessing eternal validity, 
 
 * “ If God willed to judge the human race without mercy, He could 
 only, condemn them, since no man remains free from fault from his birth 
 to his death.” Quod Deus immutab. s. 16. The crvyyiviie or a»r< yiwnry 
 
 xTioi;.- — Ilccvr) yewriTU xai civ crwovbaciov ri, vru,(? ocrov r:\Biv m yivif.v, trufityvie 
 
 <rl‘cifjcuQravov. Hence the necessity of sin offerings. De vita Mosis, 1. 
 III. s. 17. . , 
 
 j" Zwtj aidvioe ri to ov xccrciipvyri . De profuglS, S. 15. Z&r/i endue. 
 
 s. IS. Auva/ue dXySivve %,uv\e. Legis allegor. I. s. 12. But such lan¬ 
 guage might easily proceed from the same common source of the mind, 
 and it is only the most narrow understanding that can suppose that, in 
 every case where it occurs, it must have been derived from Philo, or at 
 least from this Alexandrian theology. 
 
92 
 
 JUDAISM 
 
 give rise to an opposition to Christianity. And these two 
 tendencies combining together were not unlikely to lead to 
 peculiar corruptions of it; on the one side, by introducing an 
 idealistic element, which would resolve everything else into 
 itself, and also give rise to the distinction between esoteric 
 and exoteric doctrine; and on the other, by making of it 
 little more than a spiritualized Judaism. And jn fact we 
 shall, in the history of sects, again come across these in¬ 
 fluences. 
 
 Individual ideas of the Alexandrian theology found their way 
 even into those regions where the writings and studies of these 
 men had not been introduced. These attached themselves to 
 a doctrine concerning spirits, formed out of Jewish oriental 
 elements. A longing was felt to lift the veil which covers 
 the world of spirits, to have fellowship with it. Men busied 
 themselves with legends and fictions respecting apparitions 
 of higher intellectual essences under the envelope of a human 
 body.* It was such a vague foreboding tendency of mind, 
 impatient of the limits of this earthly existence, and aspiring 
 after communications from the unseen world, that preceded 
 and accompanied the highest revelation. 
 
 Among the remarkable coincidences which prepared the 
 way for the appearance of Christianity, must be reckoned the 
 dispersion of the Jews among Greeks and Romans. Such 
 of the Jews as were of the sentiments of the Pharisees took 
 great pains to make proselytes. The waning authority of the 
 old national religions, the unsatisfied religious wants of so 
 many, seconded their endeavours. A reverence for the God 
 of the Jews as a mighty Being, for the secret sanctuary of 
 the splendid temple at Jerusalem, had long since found access 
 among the Gentiles. Jewish magicians (Goetce) ventured on 
 many deceptive tricks, in which they were extremely skilful, 
 in order to produce surprise and amazement. Consequently a 
 disposition to embrace Judaism had become so widely extended, 
 particularly in several of the large capital towns, that, as 
 it is well known, the Roman authors, in the time of 
 the first emperors, often make it a subject of complaint. 
 Thus Seneca, in his tract upon superstition, said of the Jews, 
 
 * Simon Magus, for instance, who appropriated to himself ideas of 
 this sort that were floating about in the East. See also the fragment of 
 the apocryphal writing, r \^>nuyjn ’lutrtif, in Orig. in Joann. T. II. s. 25. 
 
PROSELYTES. 
 
 S3 
 
 “ The conquered have given laws to the conquerors.”* But 
 the Jewish proselyte-makers, blind teachers of the blind, 
 having no idea themselves of the true nature of their religion, 
 could not impart it to others. Substituting a dead monotheism 
 in the place of polytheism, for the most part they did but lead 
 those who chose them as guides merely to exchange one 
 superstition for another, and so furnished them with new 
 means for hushing the upbraidings of conscience. Hence our 
 Saviour’s rebuke, charging this class of men with making their 
 proselytes two-fold more the children of hell than themselves. 
 But here, however, it is needful accurately to distinguish 
 between the two classes of proselytes. The proselytes in the 
 strict sense of the word, the proselytes of Righteousness, who 
 underwent circumcision and adopted the whole ceremonial 
 law, were different from the proselytes of the gate, who simply 
 pledged themselves to renounce idolatry, to worship God, to 
 abstain from all pagan excesses, and from everything that 
 seemed to be connected with the worship of idols.} The 
 former usually became the slaves of all the superstition and 
 fanaticism of the Jews, and allowed themselves to be led 
 blindfold by their teachers. The more difficult they had 
 found it to submit to a yoke like that of the observance 
 of the Jewish ceremonial law, which, to a Greek or a Roman, 
 must have proved so irksome, the less could they find it in 
 their hearts to believe that all this was of no avail, that they 
 had gained thereby no advantage over others, but that they 
 must renounce this imaginary righteousness. Accordingly 
 such proselytes were often the fiercest persecutors of Chris¬ 
 tianity, and were the willing tools of the Jews in exciting 
 the pagans against the Christians. It is to this class that the 
 words of Justin Martyr’s language to the Jews should be 
 applied.} i£ The proselytes not only do not believe, but they 
 blaspheme the name of Christ twofold more than yourselves, 
 and they are eager to murder and torture us who believe 
 on Him; for they are anxious to resemble you in every re¬ 
 spect.” The proselytes of the gate, on the other hand, had 
 
 * Victoribus victi leges dederunt. 
 
 f The so-called seven precepts of Noah. 
 
 > t His words are as follows (Dialog, c. Tryph. f. 350) : O,' li •7roos“/\Xvrot 
 
 o'j ftovov ov ‘TTitrrfjouo'iv, ccXXtz 'SiTrXorsgov vfxcuv (oXu.aQrifAoZo’iv u; to ovo/xa clutou xat 
 ti; ixuvov tkttiuovtccs x.ou (povivuv xcti aix/^uv (oovXovraj t xarcc wccvra 
 yug vf/iv i£o[jj0to7<7§cu <r Tit do vo 1 iv. 
 
94 
 
 JUDAISM. 
 
 adopted from the Jewish system the principles of theism, 
 without becoming wholly Jews. They had acquainted them¬ 
 selves with the sacred writings of the Jews, and had heard ot 
 the great Teacher and King who was to come,—the Messiah. 
 But in what they had read of the Old Testament m that 
 Greek translation, which to a reader not a Jew was often 
 wholly unintelligible, or in what they had heard from Jewish 
 teachers, there was much that still remained dark to them,— 
 they were in the condition of inquirers. The ideas, however, 
 which they had acquired from the Jews, concerning the unity 
 of God the divine government of the world, ot God s judg¬ 
 ment, and concerning the Messiah, had better prepared them 
 for the gospel than other Gentiles. Because they believer 
 themselves as yet to have too little ; because they had as yet 
 no perfect system of religion, but were eager for further in¬ 
 struction in divine things ; because they had no sympathy with 
 Jewish prejudices; therefore could the gospel find access 
 among them more readily than among the Jews by birth, h rom 
 the very first their attention must have been attracted to a 
 doctrine which, without making them Jews, assured to them 
 a full participation in the fulfilment of all those promises 
 which the Jews had made them acquainted with. To these 
 proselytes of the gate, therefore, (the (poGov^voi rov dsov, 
 evaeGelg of the New Testament,) the preaching of the gospel 
 was usually directed, as we see in the Acts ot the Apostles, 
 after it had been rejected by the blinded Jews; and here the 
 seed of the divine word found not unfrequently a fitting sou 
 in souls anxious for salvation. There were, no doubt, even 
 among the proselytes of the gate, some who, wanting the true 
 earnestness in their search after religious truth, only wished, at 
 all events, to have a convenient way which might lead to 
 heaven without the necessity of self-denial, and who, un- 
 decided between Judaism and paganism, but desirous to be 
 sure of being on the safe side, sometimes invoked Jehovah in 
 the synagogue, and sometimes the gods in the temples. 
 
 * Commodianus, in his Instructions, has given a picture of this class 
 of men, the inter utrumque viventes :— 
 
 Inter utrumque putans dubie vivendo cavere, 
 
 "Nudatus a lege decrepitus luxu procedis ? 
 
 Quid in svnau’oga decurris ad Pharisffios, 
 
 Ut tibi miserieors Hat, quern denegas ultro? 
 
 Exis lnde foris, iterum tu fana requiris. 
 
( 95 ) 
 
 CHURCH HISTORY. 
 
 SECTION FIRST. 
 
 RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH TO THE UNCHRIS¬ 
 TIAN WORLD. 
 
 I. Promulgation op Christianity. 
 
 C —Promulgation of Christianity generally; Hindrances to its 
 Spread .; Causes and Means of its Progress. 
 
 Ik we consider the essential character of Christianity rela¬ 
 tively to the religious state of the world which we have just 
 been describing, we shall be at no loss to determine what it 
 was that tended on the one hand to promote, and on the other 
 to retard the progress of the Christian faith. Our Saviour 
 referred to the signs of the times as witnessing of him. Such 
 a contemplation, therefore, will enable us to discern, in the 
 movements of the intellectual world which were then going on, 
 the signs which heralded the new and great epoch in the history 
 of the world. As we have already intimated in the introduc¬ 
 tion, it will clearly appear that the very tendencies which, singly 
 and by themselves, threatened the stoutest opposition to Chris¬ 
 tianity, and were calculated most effectually to hinder its 
 advance, when combined together only served to hasten its 
 triumph. It was a consequence inevitably flowing from the 
 veiy relation of Christianity to the position which the general 
 life of humanity had at the time attained to, that the obstacles 
 opposing themselves to the power which was destined to gain 
 the sovereignty of the world were converted into means for its 
 advancement. We must, therefore, contemplate the two in 
 their connection with each other. 
 
 I hat which preeminently tended to render possible and 
 everywhere to facilitate the introduction of such a religion 
 
96 
 
 CONFLICT WITH UNGODLINESS 
 
 was its peculiar character, as one superior to every kind of 
 outward, sensible forms, and, as such, capable ot entering into all 
 the existing institutions ot human society, since it A\as not its 
 aim to found a kingdom of this world, Che ease with which 
 Christianity adapted itself to all earthly relations, and, \v hile it 
 allowed men still to remain in them, yet, by the new spirit 
 which it infused, and the divine life which it breathed into 
 them, was enabled to raise men above these relations, is 
 distinctly set before us by a Christian who lived in the early 
 part of the second century, and thus describes his contempora¬ 
 ries :* “ The Christians are not separated from other men by 
 earthly abode, by language, or by customs, lhey dwell not 
 in cities of their own ; they use not peculiar language, nor afiect 
 a singular mode of life. "They live in the cities of the Greeks 
 or of the Barbarians, just as chance has cast the lot of eacli, 
 and while they conform to the usages of the country, with legard 
 to dress, food, and similar external matters, they yet show a 
 peculiarity of conduct wonderful and striking to all. f hey 
 obey the existing laws, and triumph over the laws by their own 
 
 conduct.” . 
 
 But this same lofty spirit, which could adapt to itseli all the 
 forms it found at hand, must yet, while it coalesced with all 
 that is pure in humanity, struggle as decidedly with all 
 that is ungodly in man’s nature, with whatever issued fiom it 
 and was connected with it. It announced itself as a power 
 aiming at the renovation oj the world; but the world sought 
 to maintain its old ungodly ways. 1 hough Christ came not 
 to destroy but to fulfil, yet he came not to bring peace upon 
 the earth, but a sword. Hence a collision with the prevailing 
 modes of thinking and manners was inevitable. Christianity 
 could find entrance everywhere, precisely because it was the 
 religion of God’s sovereignty in the heart, and excluded from 
 itself every political element; but it was the fundamental 
 position of that old world which Christianity was destined to 
 overthrow that religion is an institution of the State. I he 
 pagan religion, as such, was so closely interwoven av ith the 
 Avhole of civil and social life, that Avhatever attacked the one 
 must also soon be brought into hostile conflict Avith the other. 
 This conflict might, in many cases at least, have been avoided, 
 had the early Church, like that of later times, been inclined to 
 * The author of the letter to Diognetus. 
 
AND SUPERSTITION. 
 
 97 
 
 accommodate itself to the world more than the holiness of 
 Christianity allowed, and to become worldly itself, in order to 
 gain the world as a mass. But with the first Christians this 
 was not the case. They were far more inclined to overstep 
 the due measure by a stern antagonism to whatever was alien 
 to the spirit of Christianity, than by lax accommodation to it; 
 and assuredly of the two extremes the former was, for those 
 times, the more wholesome and better adapted to maintain the 
 purity of Christian doctrine and practice. 
 
 And the religion which thus opposed itself to deep-rooted 
 customs and modes of thinking, which threatened to shake to 
 the foundation all that had been established by a long succes¬ 
 sion of ages, came from a people despised by the greater part 
 of the civilized world, and at first found readiest admission 
 among the lower classes of society;—a circumstance which 
 was sufficient of itself to render such a religion contemptible 
 in the eyes of the learned aristocracy of Rome and Greece. 
 What were they who in the shops of mechanics looked 
 to find more than in the schools of philosophers ? Celsus, the 
 first, writer against Christianity, jeers at the fact* that “ wool- 
 workers, cobblers, leather-dressers, the most illiterate and 
 clownish of men, were zealous preachers of the gospel, and 
 particularly that they addressed themselves, in the first instance, 
 to women and children.” Of a faith which, adapted to all 
 stages of culture, presupposed an equal want in all, men of this 
 stamp had not the remotest conception. The objection they 
 most repeatedly brought against the Christians was, that they 
 preached only a blind faith ;j' they ought to prove what they 
 advanced, on philosophic grounds. And while Christianity was 
 thus opposed, on the one hand, by the pride of enlightenment, 
 and placed in the same class with all kinds of superstition ; so, 
 on the other, it found its fiercest antagonists in superstition 
 itself, and in fanaticism. It had to contend no less with the 
 rudeness than with the civilization of the world. 
 
 It is true, no doubt, that the old popular religions had been 
 already shaken by the assaults of unbelief, and had lost all 
 
 III Origeu, C. Cels, 1, III. f. 55 : 'o^cy^sv S?) kci) to; 1 * 410 .; oiKta; 
 
 loiouoyovg xcu o’xtjro f ro(/.ou$ xa.) xvcapzi; <rovg drrcci^iv f ro ( rd.TOug <rz xezt ciyooixorotrcug 
 ivczvTiov f/,zv <7&>v •7T^Z(Tfin rigwv xcu (pgovifAWTioujv ^za’^orouv oult'iv (p$lyy-crBa,i,ro?^- 
 fjjwvTcciirzihav <rcov vrcti'bcjv ititx, Xuiicovrcu xcu ywctixcuv f rn/u>v ci/v ccvro7$ 
 i ccvc^reov Bccupocna, rtvx }ii%tdvrcc$. t ILW/v aXoyov- 
 
 VOL. I. II 
 
 
93 
 
 CONFLICT WITH SUPERSTITION. 
 
 their authority. But, as we have seen, many had betaken 
 themselves with renewed fanaticism to the old religion. And 
 hence arose a bloody struggle in its defence. The cruel out¬ 
 bursts of the populace against the Christians is a sufficient 
 indication of the tone of religious feeling which existed at that 
 time among them. A superstition, called forth by the assaults 
 of infidelity, exercised perhaps a greater authority than ever, 
 not only over the ignorant multitude, but also a part of the 
 educated class. To the multitudes, who at this period moved 
 in the dim twilight of superstition, Plutarch thought he might 
 apply the language of Heraclitus in describing the world 
 of dreams: “They found themselves, while awake in broad 
 daylight, each in his otvn ivorld ,”—a world shut against every 
 ray of reason and truth. These men, who were for seeing 
 their gods with the bodily eye, and were used to carry them 
 about engraved on their rings, or in little images which served 
 them as amulets, in order that they might be able to kiss and 
 worship them at pleasure—men of this stamp would often 
 throw out to Christians the challenge, “ Show us your God ■ 
 And to men like these came a spiritual religion, bringing with 
 it no worship of sensible objects, no sacrifices, no temples, no 
 images, and no altars:—bald and naked, as the pagans 
 reproachfully represented it. 
 
 There was, as we have already remarked, pretty generally 
 diffused at this period a spirit of inquiry, however, and of long- 
 i n rr after some new communication from heaven. In spite 
 of 3 the pertinacity with which men clung to the olden super¬ 
 stition, there existed in various respects a susceptibility for 
 new religious impressions. But this longing—inasmuch as, 
 having no distinct consciousness of its object, it was swayed by 
 the blind impulse of feeling—easily exposed men also to decep¬ 
 tion, and opened the way for every species of fanaticism. 
 
 At the very beginning of the second century Celsus sup¬ 
 posed he could account for the rapid progress of Christianity 
 from the credulity of the age, and pointed to the multitude 
 of magicians who, by a pretended exliibition of super¬ 
 natural powers, sought to deceive men, and who found ready 
 belief with many, creating a great sensation for the moment, 
 
 •j= 4 S -syg may see from the Apologies, particularly that of Theophilus 
 ad Autolycum. 
 
SUPERNATURAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 99 
 
 which, however, quickly subsided. Yet there was a exeat 
 difference, as Origen justly replied to Celsus, between their 
 mode of proceeding and that of the preachers of the gospel 
 Ihese magicians flattered men’s sinful inclinations, they fell in 
 with their previous modes of thinking, and required no self- 
 renunciation On the other hand, he who in the primitive 
 times would become a Christian must tear himself from many 
 of his most cherished inclinations, and be ready to sacrifice 
 everything for his faith. Tertullian says,* that more were 
 deterred from embracing Christianity by the fear of having to 
 give up their pleasures than by the danger to which their 
 life would be exposed. And the excitement of mind occa¬ 
 sioned by such wandering fanatics and magicians disappeared 
 as suddenly as it had been awakened. But that it was quite 
 otherwise with the power which was at work in Christianity, 
 appeared from the permanence of its effects and their evcr- 
 wi emng circle,—a testimony for which Origen could cite 
 history against Celsus. 
 
 1 ; ut Jhe influence of such people (whose existence the oppo¬ 
 nents of Christianity themselves vouch for) presented a new 
 obstade to its progress. It must force its way through the 
 circle of delusions which those people had succeeded in drawing 
 around the minds of men, before it could reach their hearts and 
 consciences. Jdie examples of a Simon Magus, an Elymas, 
 
 ‘ A , lexander of Abonoteichos, show in what way this class of 
 people opposed the progress of the gospel. Striking facts, 
 stiongly appealing to the outward senses, were necessary in 
 
 of tlU° K nn fn meU f ntan f led “ such deceptive arts out 
 Er bewilderment to their sober exercise of reason, and 
 raider them capable of higher spiritual impressions. 
 
 , . eud se I rved tll0Se supernatural operations which 
 pioceeded from the new creative power of Christianity, and 
 “i 1 wer< ? destined to accompany it until it had biended 
 
 ment C °ThI iato * he . natural Process of human develop- 
 ‘ lhe jostle Paul appeals to such wonders, attesting 
 tothat power °f the Divine Spirit which inspired his preach- 
 
 i,hnil n 110 "' 1 ^ and undeniable facts, and this he does 
 
 epistles addressed to the churches which had beheld them; 
 
 ,uos ™ sis perku,om 
 ii 2 
 
100 
 
 SUPERNATURAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 and the history of the Acts illustrates, in particular instances, 
 the power of those miracles, in first arresting the attention, 
 and in dispelling those delusive influences. The passage in 
 the development of the church, from that first period m which 
 the supernatural, immediate, and creative power predominated, 
 to the second, in which the same divine principle displayed its 
 activity in the form of natural connection, was not a sudden 
 transition, but proceeded by a series of gradual and insensible 
 changes We should not be warranted, as neither are we in a 
 condition, to draw so sharply the line of demarcation between 
 what is supernatural and what is natural in the effects pro¬ 
 ceeding from the power of Christianity, when it has once taken 
 
 possession of human nature. . 
 
 The Fathers, down at least to the middle of the third cen¬ 
 tury, in language which bespeaks the consciousness of truth, 
 and often before the pagans themselves, appeal to such extra¬ 
 ordinary phenomena, as conducing to the spread of the faith ; 
 and however we may be disposed to distinguish the facts at 
 bottom from the point of view under which they are con¬ 
 templated by the narrator, we must still admit the facts them¬ 
 selves, and their effects on the minds of men. It is therefore 
 undeniable that, even subsequently to the Apostolical age, the 
 spread of the gospel was advanced by such means Let us 
 hr in- before our mind some of these cases in all their vivid 
 connection with the character and spirit of the tunes. A 
 Christian meets with some unhappy individual, sunk in 
 heathenish superstition, who, diseased in body and soul, hat 
 in vain hoped to get relief in the temple of Esculapius, where 
 so many in those days sought a cure for their diseases in 
 dreams sent from the god of health* To no purpose also had 
 he tried the various incantations.and amulets of pagan priests 
 and dealers in enchantments. The Christian bids him to look 
 no longer for help from impotent and lifeless idols, or from 
 demoniacal powers, but to betake himself to that Alnnghty 
 God who alone can help. He hears, he assures him, the 
 prayers of all who invoke His aid in the name of Him by 
 whom He has redeemed the world from sin. 1 he Christian 
 employs no magic formulas, no amulets; but simply calling 
 upon God through Christ, he lays his hand on the sick man s 
 head, in faithful reliance on his Saviour. The sick man is 
 * See the Orations of Aristides. 
 
SUPERNATURAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 101 
 
 healed; and the cure of his body leads to that of his soul. 
 There were—particularly at this period of the rending asunder 
 and breaking up of the old world on its way to dissolution— 
 multitudes of persons, sick in body and in mind, who, as we 
 have already observed, believed themselves under the dominion 
 and persecution of some demoniacal power. All the powers 
 of ungodliness and destruction would naturally be roused to 
 most violent action, when the healing power of the divine was 
 about to enter into humanity. The revelation of heavenly 
 peace, which should restore all to harmony, must be preceded by 
 a deep-felt inward disunion which in such cases manifested itself. 
 There was no want, either among Pagans or Jews, of pre¬ 
 tenders who, by various methods'—perfuming with incense, 
 embrocations, medicinal herbs, amulets, adjurations expressed 
 in strange enigmatical formulas—set themselves up to expel 
 those demoniacal powers. In any case, if they produced any 
 effect, it was only to drive out one devil by means of another, 
 and hence the true dominion of the demoniacal power must, 
 by their means, have been confirmed rather than weakened. 
 The words which our Saviour himself spoke, in reference to 
 such transactions, found here their appropriate application. 
 11 He that is not with me is against me.” What great credit 
 these pretended exorcists obtained at this date we may judge 
 from the thanksgiving which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius 
 offers to the gods, because he had learned from a wise in¬ 
 structor to trust in none of the tales about the incantations 
 and exorcisms of magicians and wonder-workers.* 
 
 Now it so happens that one who has vainly sought relief 
 from such impostors falls in with a devout Christian. The 
 latter recognises here the power of darkness, and looks no 
 farther for the cause of disease. But lie is confident of this 
 one thing, that the Redeemer has overcome the powers of 
 darkness, and that, in whatsoever form they may manifest 
 themselves, they must yield to him. In this confidence he 
 prays, and bears witness of Him who by His sufferings has 
 triumphed over the gates of hell; and his prayer, drawing 
 down the powers of Heaven, works deeply and inwardly upon 
 the distracted nature of the patient. Peace succeeds to the 
 
 * I. 6. To aWiirT>!»/*o» to/V uoro tui n^xrtvofjj'iv oov xa) yofircuv < (Tadar 
 xat orio; Sos ifjbovm u.^oTto^irni xai r av roiourav /Ayo/JAvoi;. 
 
102 
 
 SUPERNATURAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 conflicts that had raged within; and conducted by this expe¬ 
 rience of the power of Christianity to a belief in it, he is now 
 at last set free, in every sense, from the dominion of evil— 
 thoroughly and for ever healed by the enlightening and sanc¬ 
 tifying power of the truth; so that the evil spirit, returning 
 back to the house, finds it no longer swept and garnished for 
 his reception. 
 
 Instances of this kind are appealed to by J ustin Martyr, 
 when addressing the pagans.* He says, “ That the empire of 
 evil spirits has been destroyed by Jesus, you may, even now, 
 convince yourselves by what is passing before your own eyes ; 
 for many of our people, of us Christians, have healed and still 
 continue to heal, in every part of the world, and even in your 
 city (Rome), numbers possessed of evil spirits, such as could 
 not be healed by other exorcists, simply by adjuring them in 
 the name of Jesus Christ, who was crucified under Pontius 
 Pilate.” From an expression of Irenseus we also learn that 
 such cures not unfrequently prepared the way for conversion 
 to Christianity. He says that often they who had been 
 delivered from the power of evil spirits believed, and were 
 added to the Church.f The inward conflicts of a soul that 
 could find no satisfaction of its religious wants in all that 
 the old world had to offer, may have frequently been the 
 occasion of such forms of disease; and by the influence of 
 Christianity the disorder was conquered, not merely in its 
 symptoms, but in its very cause. As a particular gift, quite 
 distinct from the healing of these demoniacal diseases, Irenseus 
 mentions other instances of restoring the sick, by the laying 
 on of the hands of Christians,J—raising of the dead, who 
 afterwards remained alive in the Church for many years.§ He 
 appeals to the variety of gifts which the true disciples of Christ 
 had received from Him, and which they employed, each after 
 his own measure, for the benefit of their fellow-men. What 
 the Christians thus wrought, simply out of love, and looking 
 for no temporal reward, through prayer to God and invocation 
 
 * In his first Apology, p. 45. 
 
 •)• "{Itt- ToXXaxi; xu.) mtTTluuv auToui iziltou; tov; xciSaeirBitTa; oLto Tut 
 ‘Ttiv/j-drut xa) i/vai Ev rjj s xxXnria. Adv. hjEl'eS, 1. II. C. 3?, S. 4. Ed. 
 Massuet. 
 
 J ”AXXoi 51 to'j; xa-fttotra; 5;es rr,; Tut %E ioui IriSitnug lutTai. 
 
 Ka'i tsxtui hyloSntrut xa.) ’Xa^fhina.t <rbv n/zit izattn; ststiv. 
 
SUPERNATURAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 103 
 
 of the name of Christ, is contrasted by this father with the 
 juggling tricks resorted to by such as gained a livelihood 
 thereby. Origen saw in the miraculous powers which, though 
 sensibly diminished, still existed in his time, an instance of 
 what on the first appearance of Christianity had particularly 
 contributed to advance its progress.* * * § In his defence of 
 Christianity against Celsus he cites cases from his own expe¬ 
 rience, where he had been an eye-witness of the fact, in which, 
 simply by invocation of the name of God and of Jesus, after 
 the preaching of his history, many were healed of grievous 
 diseases and states of insanity, which neither human skill nor 
 demoniacal influence had been able to relieve.f It is a re¬ 
 markable fact, attested by Tertullian and Origen, that many 
 were led to embrace Christianity by extraordinary psycho¬ 
 logical phenomena. Tertullian relates that most came to a 
 knowledge of the true God by means of visions.^; Now 
 although this father of the Church was on the whole perhaps 
 inclined to exaggeration, and in particular to lay an undue 
 stress on such appearances; yet his statements on this head are 
 confirmed by the testimony of Origen. The latter asserts that 
 11 Many have come to Christianity as it were against their 
 will, some Spirit turning their minds from hatred of the word 
 to willingness to die for it, and sending visions to them, either 
 awake or dreaming.Ӥ He calls God to witness that nothing 
 was further from his wish than to attempt to add to the glory 
 of Christianity by false statements ;—and yet he could relate 
 many things seemingly incredible, which he had himself wit¬ 
 nessed. Such testimonies are most instructive, since they 
 acquaint us with the manner in which conversions at this 
 pei’iod were often brought about. We shall indeed see cause 
 in many instances to refer these phenomena, not so much to a 
 divine miraculous agency, operating from without, as to the 
 
 * Tag noaorioug ^uva^ng, dg xaratnetuaerriov yzyovivai \:t rou ocvT ^ v 
 
 srt (rojZ,i<T§at •Trce.oa, ro7g Kara, ro fiovXrj/aa rov Xoyov puouenv. C. Cels. 1. I. S. 2. 
 
 f T ovroig yao xa) yi/ias 7g \oocdxafbiv vroXXovg avraXXayivrag ^aXscr^'v trvfttf- 
 rwijodruv zxffrdaioov xa) fjoaviuv xa) aXXcov fx,vpjm y atfiP our ovrz 'dai - 
 
 f.tovig iSiod'Tnutrav. —C. Cels. 1. III. C. 24. 
 
 X Major psene vis hominum e visionibus Deura discunt. De anima. 
 c. 47. 
 
 § llflXXo) oof/vnoz) oixovng t 7T()o<nXnXv§a<ji ‘z’vivparo; rtvog 
 
 ro’-^avrog aurojv ro yjyzfjoovixov aifivt'diov drro rou (jjtffuv rov Xoyov zvri ro v^ipa^C” 
 Gavt7v aurotjy xa) (pavrartoveravrog auroug v-yrao y\ ovao. C. Cels. 1. II. C. 4G. 
 
104 
 
 SUPERNATURAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 internal power with which Christianity agitated the spiritual 
 life of the period. The way in which the divine principle of 
 life in Christianity—the new power among mankind—came 
 into collision with the principle of paganism, could not fail 
 to produce extraordinary phenomena in the world of con¬ 
 sciousness, through which, as its crisis, the religious life ot 
 individuals must pass ere it could arrive at its end. 
 
 Yet as each particular miracle wrought by Christ was but 
 a single flash from the fullness of the Godhead which dwelt 
 in him, having for its end simply to bring home to the minds 
 of men the immediate self-manifestation of this fullness; so 
 too all subsequent miracles are but single flashes, issuing forth 
 from the immediate divine power of the gospel, and con¬ 
 tributing to make a revelation of the latter to the religious 
 consciousness. Without this itself, and its relation to man s 
 nature, and in the absence of the peculiar conditions which 
 belonged to man’s nature in this particular period, all else 
 would have been to no purpose. That which the divine power 
 in the gospel wrought immediately by itself on man s nature, 
 
 _still allied to God though estranged from its original 
 
 source _f rom first to last was the main thing, the end for 
 which all else was but subsidiary and preparatory. It is this 
 that the Apostle Paul ranks above all other kinds of evidence, 
 above all particular miracles, describing it as the “ demon¬ 
 stration of the Spirit and of power.”* And as this divine 
 power exerted its influence on the inner life of man, so in 
 his outward conduct and actions it manifested itself with an 
 attractive energy ; and this, more than all else, contributed to 
 the conversion of the heathen. 
 
 To facts of this kind Justin Martyr appeals as matter of 
 experience.! After quoting the words of our Lord, “ Let 
 your light so shine before men that they may see your good 
 works, and glorify your Father which is in Heaven,’ he adds 
 “ Our Lord would not have us recompense evil for evil, but 
 requires that, by the power of patience and meekness, we 
 should win all men from the disgrace of their evil passions. 
 
 * A passage which, indeed, came to be misunderstood at a very early 
 period, because too much importance was attached to the outward, thus 
 it was Origen’s opinion that the «rvi vparos xa) is so 
 
 predicated of the —2/a rus Troofwrsias x,cu dvvec/jjUS* 
 
 c. Cels. 1. I. s. 1. f Apolog. II. f. 63. 
 
CHRISTIAN EXAMPLE. 
 
 105 
 
 And we can point to many among us who, from violent and 
 tyrannical men, have been thus changed by a victorious power, 
 when they saw how their neighbours could bear all things, or 
 witnessed the singular patience of their defrauded fellow-tra¬ 
 vellers, or came to be acquainted tvith the conduct or beha¬ 
 viour of Christians in any other relation of life.” The 
 eminent virtues of the Christians must have gained a brighter 
 lustre from contrast with the prevailing vices; their strictness 
 of morals was sometimes even carried to excess, amidst the 
 universal depravity of the age; their hearty fraternal love 
 was a strong contrast to that predominant selfishness which 
 separated man from man, and rendered all distrustful of each 
 other, rendering the nature of Christian fellowship incompre¬ 
 hensible, and a never-failing source of wonder. “ See,” was 
 the common remark, “how these Christians love one another.” 
 “ This seems so extraordinary to them,” says Tertullian,* 
 “because they are used to hate one another. See,” they 
 exclaim, “how among the Christians one is ready to die for 
 the rest; this seems so wonderful to them, because they them¬ 
 selves are far more ready to murder one another.” Although 
 a brotherly union of this sort excited suspicion in those who 
 were used to watch everything with the jealous eye of poli¬ 
 tical interestf (and several persecutions of the Christians were 
 thereby occasioned), yet on minds not narrowed by such 
 habits, or not abandoned to fanaticism, very different was the 
 impression produced. With such the question could hardly 
 fail to arise, “ What is it which can thus bind together the 
 hearts of men, in other respects wholly strangers to one 
 another ?” In an age of enervated refinement^ and of servile 
 cowardice, the Christians manifested an enthusiasm which 
 gave fresh energy to life, and an heroic faith which despised 
 tortures and death rather than do what was contrary to con¬ 
 science. This heroism of the Christians did indeed strike 
 
 Sed ejusmodi vel maxime dilectionis operatio notam nobis inurit 
 penes quosdam. Vide inquiunt, ut invicem se diligant. Ipsi enirn 
 invicem oderunt. Et pro alterutro mori sint parati, ipsi enim ad occi- 
 dendum alterutrum paratiores. Apolog. c. 39. 
 
 t This view of the matter is expressed in the language of the Pagan 
 Csecilius, m the Octavius of Minucius Felix (s. 9) : Oceultis se notis et 
 msigmbus noscunt et amant mutuo psene ante quarn noverint. 
 
 1 Ipsa urbanitate decepti, says Tertullian of his contemporaries. 
 
106 
 
 CHRISTIAN HEROISM. 
 
 many as a phenomenon foreign to the age; they made it a 
 matter of reproach to them that they possessed a character 
 well enough befitting the ruder days of antiquity, but little 
 suited to their own more refined and gentle times.* Although, 
 however, the ordinary Roman statesmen and the followers of 
 a worldly prudence which moves only by precedent—though 
 the cold Stoic, who for all things demanded a logical demon¬ 
 stration, could see in the calm fortitude with which the Chris¬ 
 tians met death in testimony of their faith nothing but a blind 
 enthusiasm, yet the confidence and the cheerfulness of the 
 suffering martyrs could not fail to make an impression on less 
 hardened or less prejudiced minds, leading them to inquire 
 more deeply into the nature of that creed which made men 
 thus ready to give up all and to suffer any sacrifice. Outward 
 violence could effect nothing against the inward power of 
 divine truth ; it could only cause the might of this truth to 
 be more gloriously manifest. Tertullian, therefore, concludes 
 his ‘ Apology ’ with this address to the persecutors of the 
 Christians :—“ All your refinements of cruelty can accomplish 
 nothing; on the contrary, they do but serve to win men over 
 to this sect. Our number increases the more you persecute 
 us. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Christians. 
 Your philosophers, who exhort to the endurance of pain and 
 death, make fewer disciples by their words than the Christians 
 by their deeds. That obstinacy which you reproach us with 
 is a teacher; for who that beholds it is not urged to inquire 
 into its cause? And who, when he has inquired, does not 
 come over to us; and when he has come over, is not himself 
 willing to suffer for it?”! 
 
 Add to this, that Christianity appeared when the time was 
 now full that the glory of the “ Eternal City ” must depart 
 from her: for so long as its powerful associations still held a 
 sway over the minds of men, mastering and moulding all 
 interests and feelings, small place was left for that sense of 
 want which led many to Christianity. But when ail that had 
 
 * Well enough for the ingeuia duriora robustioris antiquitatis ; but 
 not for the tran'quillitatem pads and the ingenia mitiora. Tertull. adv. 
 Nat. I. c. 18. 
 
 f Semen est sanguis Christianorum—ilia ipsa obstinatio, quam expro- 
 bratis. magistra est. Quis enim non contemplatione ejus concut'tur act 
 requirendum, quid intus in re sit? 
 
INFLUENCE OF THE LOWER CLASSES. 
 
 107 
 
 hitherto been an object of enthusiastic love and had given a 
 certain impulse to the soul was now growing old and fading 
 away, Christianity appeared, calling men from a sinking old 
 world to a new creation, which was destined for eternity. As 
 Augustin beautifully expresses it, “ Christ appeared to the 
 men of a decrepit and dying world, that, while all around 
 them was decaying, they might through Him receive a new 
 youthful life.” And the higher life which Christianity came 
 to impart required no brilliant outward splendour for the 
 manifestation of its glory, as did all that had been admired as 
 great in the old republican virtue. Into the midst of circum¬ 
 stances and situations the most cramping and depressing, this 
 divine life could find its way, and, causing its glory to shine 
 forth in weak and despised vessels, elevated man above all 
 that tends to bow him to the earth, without tempting him to 
 overstep the bounds which they believed an overruling provi¬ 
 dence had assigned to their station in the world. Outwardly the 
 slave still remained a slave, fulfilling all the duties of his place 
 with far greater fidelity and conscientiousness than before ; 
 and yet within he felt himself free, and showed an elevation of 
 soul, a confidence, a power of faith and of resignation, which 
 must have filled his master with amazement. Men in the 
 lowest class of society, who had hitherto known nothing of 
 religion but its ceremonies and its fables, attained to clear and 
 firm religious convictions. The remarkable words already 
 quoted from Celsus, as well as many individual examples of 
 the first times of Christianity, show us the truth of the gospel 
 spreading to whole families, often from women* who, as wives 
 and mothers, reflected a spiritual light on the surrounding 
 pagan corruption; and often from young men, boys, and 
 maidens; and even from slaves, who put their masters to 
 shame. “ Every Christian mechanic,” says Tertullian, “ has 
 found God, and shows him to you ; and can teach you all in 
 fact that you require to know of God; even though Plato (in 
 the Timgeus) says that it is hard to find out the creator of the 
 universe, and impossible, after one has found him, to make 
 him known to all.” In like manner, Athenagoras :—“ With 
 
 * Compare the words of the pagan Caecilius in the Octavius of Minu- 
 cius Felix, where, speaking of the Christians, he says (c. 8), Qui de 
 ultima fcece collectis imperitioribus et mulierihus credulis sexus sui faci¬ 
 litate labentibus plebem profanae conjurationis instituunt. 
 
108 
 
 ENNOBLING CHARACTER OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 us you may find ignorant people, mechanics, and old women, 
 who, though they could not prove to you with words the 
 saving powder of their religion, yet by their deeds show forth 
 the sanctifying influence of the disposition it communicates; 
 for they do not learn words by rote, but they exhibit good 
 works ; when struck they strike not again ; if robbed, they go 
 not to law; they give to them that ask of them, and love their 
 neighbours as themselves.” 
 
 The gross material notions which undoubtedly prevailed 
 among a large portion of the early Christians, as, for example, 
 among the Chiliasts, have frequently been urged as a reproach 
 to Christianity. But in truth it is precisely this that most 
 displays its distinguishing character. As it is not a system of 
 notions, but a promulgation of facts, it could be brought 
 within the range even of a material habit of thinking, and, 
 lowering itself to its comprehension, could mix with it, and 
 by the power of those facts it was able to communicate, even 
 to such a material form, a divine life, which should gradually 
 ennoble the whole nature of the man with all his faculties and 
 propensities, and so spiritualize his very habits of thinking. 
 And in connexion with this phenomenon still another remains 
 to be noticed. The pole of human nature most opposite to 
 this was at the same time seized by Christianity with over¬ 
 whelming power, as is evident when we compare the Gnostics 
 with the Chiliasts. So deeply impressed from the first on 
 the developing process of this religion is the stamp of its 
 divine and human character, that by virtue of it it could and 
 must attract the opposite poles of man’s nature, and simul¬ 
 taneously affect all the intermediate stages. And, as we shall 
 see, it was precisely this, its distinguishing characteristic, 
 that most advanced the wider diffusion of Christianity, and its 
 final triumph over the old world. 
 
 .2. Propagation of Christianity in particular Districts. 
 
 The great highways by which the knowledge of the gospel 
 was to be spread abroad had already been opened by the inter¬ 
 course of nations. The easy means of intercommunication 
 within the vast Roman empire; the close relation which the 
 Jews dispersed throughout all lands kept up with those at Jeru¬ 
 salem ; the way in which all the Roman dominions had their 
 
DIFFUSION OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 109 
 
 common centre in the great capital of the world ; the con¬ 
 nection of the provinces with their metropolitan towns, and of 
 the larger portions of the empire with the more considerable 
 cities, were all circumstances favourable to this end. Such 
 cities as Alexandria, Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, were the 
 centres of a wide commercial, political, and literary corre¬ 
 spondence ; and on this account became also the principal 
 seats for the propagation of the gospel, and the ones in which 
 the first preachers tarried longest. That commercial inter¬ 
 course which from the earliest times had served, not merely 
 for the barter of worldly goods, but also for the exchange of 
 the nobler treasures of mind, was now to be used as a channel 
 for the diffusion of the highest spiritual blessings. 
 
 As a general rule, Christianity first gained ground in the 
 cities; for, as it was needful above all to obtain fixed seats 
 for the propagation of the gospel, its first preachers, passing 
 rapidly over the country, published the glad tidings first of 
 all in the cities, from which it might afterwards be easily 
 diffused through the country by native teachers. On the other 
 hand, in the country they were likely to encounter greater 
 obstacles owing to the entire rudeness, the blind superstition, 
 and the heathen fanaticism of the people, as well as from their 
 own ignorance in some cases of the old provincial dialects; 
 while in the towns, for the most part, they could make them¬ 
 selves sufficiently well understood by using the Greek or the 
 Latin language. Yet we know from Pliny’s report to the 
 Emperor Trajan, no less than from the account given by the 
 Roman Bishop Clemens,* and the statements of Justin 
 Martyr,f that this was not universally the case. In many 
 districts country churches were formed very earfy; and 
 Origen says expresslyf that many considered it their duty 
 to visit not only the cities, but also the country towns and 
 villas; and that this was the case seems evident, moreover, 
 from the great number of country bishops in particular dis¬ 
 tricts. 
 
 In the New Testament we find accounts of the dissemina¬ 
 tion of Christianity in Syria; in Cilicia ; probably also in the 
 
 * Ep. I. Corinth, c. 42. 
 
 f Apologet. II. f. 98. 
 
 J C. Cels. 1. III. C. 9 : Tins 'igyov srscrolnvrai iy. srsou^itrSru o’u y.ovot 
 
 qroXst$, dX'Ace, kcu x.oo[acx,s xcu WcivXus. 
 
110 
 
 MESOPOTAMIA. 
 
 Parthian empire, which at that time was very extensive;* 
 in Arabia; in Lesser Asia, and the countries adjacent; in 
 Greece and the neighbouring countries as far as lllyricum ; 
 and also in Italy. But authentic accounts on this subject are 
 greatly deficient; for later traditions, growing out of the 
 desire to trace each national church to an immediately apos¬ 
 tolic origin, deserve no consideration. We confine ourselves 
 to what can be safely credited. 
 
 The old story of the correspondence between a prince of the 
 dynasty of the Abgari or Agbari, the Agbar Uchomo (who 
 ruled over the small state of Edessa Osrhoene in Mesopo¬ 
 tamia), and our Saviour, to whom he is said to have applied 
 for the cure of a grievous disorder, is entitled to no credit; 
 nor is that of his conversion by Thaddeus, one of the Seventy. 
 Eusebius found the documents from which he drew up his 
 narrative in the public archives of Edessa; and suffered 
 himself to be deceived by them. The letter ascribed to Christ 
 is utterly unworthy of Him, and bears throughout the marks 
 of having been compiled from several passages of the gospels. 
 It is moreover inconceivable that a letter written by Christ 
 himself could have remained unknown to the rest of the world 
 till the time of Eusebius. The letter too of Abgarus is not 
 couched in the style of an oriental prince. Whether the story 
 be founded in any degree on truth we have no means of deter¬ 
 mining. All that is certain is, that Christianity was early 
 diffused in this country; yet it is not till between the years 
 160-170 that one of its princes, Abgar Bar Manu, is men¬ 
 tioned as a Christian. With him the Christian sage Barde- 
 sanes is said to have stood very high; and this writer informs 
 us that Abgar forbade, under a severe penalty, the self-muti¬ 
 lations usually connected with the worship of Cybele, com¬ 
 manding those who should be guilty of it to lose their hands. 
 From tins fact alone it does by no means follow that he was a 
 Christian; but the inference is strengthened by the fact that 
 on the coins of this prince the usual symbols of the old 
 
 * For the circumstance that Peter (1 Ep. V. 13) sends a greeting from 
 his wife in Babylon—whether it was the then capital of Seleucia, or, 
 more probably, the old fallen Babylon—leads to the conjecture that he 
 was residing in those countries. [Von seiner Frau in Neander; the 
 original is n trvvixXixrn, which Luther translates “ die samt euch auser- 
 wiihlet,” understanding UxXncn'a, and agreeing with our version, “ The 
 church.elected together with you.” 
 
PERSIA.—ARABIA. 
 
 Ill 
 
 national worship are, for the first time, wanting; and the sign 
 of the cross appears in their place.* As early as in the year 
 202 the Christians of Edessa had a church, which was built, 
 as it seems, after the model of the temple at Jerusalem.! 
 
 If St. Peter preached the gospel in Parthia,! some seeds of 
 Christianity may at an early period have easily reached Persia, 
 which then belonged to that empire; but the frequent wars 
 of Parthia and Rome would prevent all communication 
 between Parthian and Roman Christians. Bardesanes of 
 Edessa, mentioned above, who wrote in the time of the Em¬ 
 peror Marcus Aurelius, notices the spread of Christianity in 
 Parthia, Media, Persia, Bactria.§ After the restoration of 
 independence to the ancient empire of Persia, under the Sas- 
 sanides, the Persian Christians become better known to us 
 through the attempts of the Persian Mani in the latter half of 
 the third century to form a new religious doctrine out of the 
 union of the ancient oriental systems with Christianity. 
 
 In Arabia, there were Jews residing in great numbers, who 
 may have afforded an opening for the preaching of the gospel 
 in that country ; but the same circumstance however would also 
 present a powerful obstacle to it. But the latter, no doubt, 
 much more than the former. It is clear, from liis own words, 
 that the Apostle St. Paul, soon after his conversion, retired from 
 Damascus to Arabia. But how he employed himself during 
 his residence in that country, and with what results, remains 
 uncertain. |j If the country called India, in a tradition of 
 which we shall presently speak, is to be taken for a part of 
 Arabia, then it would appear that the Apostle St. Bartholo¬ 
 mew preached the gospel to the Jews there, and took with 
 him, for this purpose, a gospel written in the Hebrew (Ara¬ 
 maic) language—probably that compilation of our Lord’s dis¬ 
 courses by St. Matthew which is the basis of our present 
 
 * Bayer, Historia Edesseua e nummis illustrata, 1. III. p. 173. But 
 Bayer places him, no doubt incorrectly, as late as a.c. 200. 
 
 f In the chronicle of Edessa (compiled from ancient documents about 
 the middle of the sixth century) it is recorded, in expressions which 
 imply that the document was not written by a Christian hand, that by 
 the violence of a flood the templum ecclesice Christianorum had been 
 destoyed. V. Assemani Bibliotheca orientalis, T. I. p. 391. 
 
 X According to the tradition preserved in Origen ; Euseb. III. 1, also 
 She apostle Thomas. § Euseb. Prccparat. Evaug. 1. VI. c. 10. 
 
 || See my History of the Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 126. 
 
ARABIA. 
 
 112 
 
 gospel according to St. Matthew.* On this supposition too 
 the learned Alexandrian catechist, Pantaenus, was teacher of 
 a portion of this people in the latter half of the second century. 
 In the early part of the third century, Origen, the great father 
 of the Alexandrian Church, laboured in the same field. Yet 
 doubtless we must understand only that part of Arabia which 
 w r as in subjection to the Roman empire. Eusebius,f informs 
 us that at that time the Arabian commander sent letters to 
 Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, and to the then prefect of 
 Egypt, earnestly requesting that Origen might be allowed to 
 come to him, since he was desirous of conferring with him in 
 person.! Most assuredly, this Arabian commander was not 
 the hereditary chief of some wandering tribe of Arabs. Such 
 a person could hardly have ever heard of Origen. Put a Roman 
 governor might well have been moved by the fame of the great 
 teacher—clebrated at this time even among the heathen for his 
 holy life, his wisdom, and scientific attainments—to seek a per¬ 
 sonal conversation with him on religious subjects. Such an 
 one might have belonged to the number of truth-seeking men 
 among the pagans of those times. If so, Origen most as¬ 
 suredly availed himself of this interview for the purpose of 
 winning the governor to the side of the gospel. At a some¬ 
 what later period v r e find Christian churches in Arabia, and 
 standing in immediate connexion with Origen. To the further 
 propagation of the gospel in these parts in still later times, the 
 nomadic habits of the people and the hostile influence of the 
 Jews presented great obstacles. 
 
 The ancient Syro-Persian church, whose remains survive 
 to the present day on the coast of Malabar in the East. In¬ 
 dies, boasts as its founder the Apostle St. Thomas, and pro¬ 
 fesses to be able to point out the place of his burial. Were 
 this a tradition handed dou r n within the community itself, in¬ 
 dependent of other accounts, w r e should not be inclined to 
 yield credence to it; but neither, on the other hand, should 
 we be warranted in rejecting it absolutely.§ It is not impos- 
 
 * See my History of the Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 131, Remark. 
 
 f L. VI. c. 19. 
 
 ^ tuv ff r rica f ricuriKUJv (which suggests some person ot the 
 
 Boman office of dux Arabise), ccvi^'ioou jz, rris 
 
 vrapoix/a; v.rurxoiru xai ru tots rtj; A lyvirrou y?" , T « ’A**/5 >*l 
 
 ryovpUou (as a dux Arabics afterwards occurs in the Notitia imperil). 
 
 § It becomes the conscientious inquirer, who leans neither on the side 
 
 w 
 
INDIA. 
 
 113 
 
 sible that this church, the earliest notice of which is found in 
 the reports of Cosmas Indicopleustes, about the middle of the 
 sixth century, owed its existence to a mercantile colony of 
 Syro-Persian Christians, and, having brought with it the 
 earlier traditions of the Greek mother church, might have 
 simply transmitted these, but after a time the channel from 
 whence they had been originally derived was perhaps for¬ 
 gotten. We must, therefore, examine more closely these tra¬ 
 ditions themselves. But the Greek traditions, although old, 
 are very vague and uncertain, lhe looseness with which the 
 geographical name of India was employed contributes to this 
 uncertainty. Ethiopia, and Arabia Felix, the adjacent Insula 
 Dioscoridis, (the island Diu Zocotara, at the mouth of the 
 . Arabian Gulf,) were formerly designated by this name.* 
 These countries, however, maintained by commerce a lively 
 intercourse with India proper, and might thus have furnished 
 a channel for the propagation of Christianity in the latter. 
 Gregory of Nanzianzen asserts j that Thomas preached the 
 gospel to the Indians; but by India here Jerome understands 
 Ethiopia.^; If the tradition in Origen, which makes Thomas 
 the Apostle to the Parthians, be credible, it still would not 
 be absolutely inconsistent with the former account, since at 
 that time the Parthian empire touched on the boundaries of 
 India. At all events, such statements are not very clear and 
 precise. Eusebius,§ as we have observed already, relates that 
 Pantasnus undertook a missionary tour to the people dwelling 
 eastward, which lie extended as far as India. There he found 
 already some seeds of Christianity, which had been conveyed 
 thither by the Apostle Bartholomew, as well as a Hebrew 
 
 of arbitrary doubt nor on that of arbitrary assertion, to express himself, 
 in matters of this sort, as my friend and honoured colleague Ritter has 
 done in his instructive remarks on this point in the Erdkunde von 
 As'ien (Bd. IV., lste Abtheilung, S. 602) : “ What European science 
 cannot prove is not therefore to be rejected as untrue, but only to be re¬ 
 garded as problematical for the present; by no means, however, is any 
 structure to be erected upon it as a safe foundation.” 
 
 * According to Ritter (1. c. S. 603), to be explained from the fact that 
 not only Indian trade colonies—the Banianes, Banig-yana, according to 
 the Sanscrit, trade-people (see Ritter, 1. c. S. 443)— had settled there, and 
 that the whole region furnished emporia for Indian wares, but that these 
 were the few direct intermediate stations for the uninterrupted com¬ 
 merce with foreign India. 
 
 f Orat. 25. J Ep. 148. § L. I. c. 10. 
 
 VOD. I. I 
 
 | Ep. 148. 
 
m 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 gospel which the same Apostle had taken with him. The men¬ 
 tion of the Hebrew gospel is not at all inconsistent with the sup¬ 
 position that India proper is here meant, if we may assume 
 that the Jews who now dwell on the coast of Malabar had 
 already arrived there. The language of Eusebius seems to 
 intimate that he himself had in view a remoter country than 
 Arabia, and rather favours the conjecture that he meant to 
 speak of India proper. Yet it may be a question whether he 
 was not himself deceived by the name. To settle the contro¬ 
 verted question what countries we are really to understand 
 by these traditions, we must compare also the later accounts 
 of the fourth century. In the time of the Emperor Constan¬ 
 tine,* a missionary, Theophilus, with the surname Indicus, is 
 spoken of as coming from the island Diu (At/3ove), by which 
 is to be understood the island Zocotara above-mentioned. 
 In his native land, and in the other districts of Indiaf which 
 he visited from thence, he found Christianity already planted, 
 and had only to correct certain things. 
 
 We next cross over to Africa. The country in this quarter 
 of the world, where Christianity must have been first dissemi¬ 
 nated, was Egypt. For here, in the Grecian and Jewish en¬ 
 lightenment at Alexandria, were presented, as we have already 
 shown, points of contact and union. Even among the first 
 zealous preachers of the gospel we find men of Alexandrian 
 education, as, for instance, Apollos of Alexandria, and proba¬ 
 bly also Barnabas of Cyprus. The epistle to the Hebrews, 
 the epistle ascribed to Barnabas, the gospel of the Egyptians- 
 (evciyyeXiov kut A’tyvi ttiovq), in which the Alexandrian-theo- 
 sophic taste displays itself—the Gnosticism in the first half 
 of the second century—are proofs of the influence exerted by 
 Christianity, at a very early period, on the philosophy of the 
 Alexandrian Jews. An ancient tradition names the evan¬ 
 gelist Mark as the founder of the Alexandrian Church. From 
 Alexandria Christianity must have easily found fts way to 
 Cyrene, on account of the constant intercourse and the reci¬ 
 procity of ideas between the two places. But though the 
 o-ospel may have early found its way into the parts of Lower 
 Egypt inhabited by Grecian and Jewish colonies, yet it would 
 not be so easy for it to penetrate into Middle, and particularly 
 
 * Yid. Philostorg. hist. 1. III. c. 4 and 5. 
 
 ’E KiiSiv <rU T'/jy aXX nv upixiTO ’Iv^iKYiv* 
 
AFRICA. 
 
 115 
 
 into Upper Egypt. For in those parts, the foreign character 
 of the Coptic language, the dominion of the priests, and the 
 old Egyptian superstition were considerable obstacles in its 
 way. A persecution, however, of the Christians in Thebais, 
 under the Emperor Septimius Severus,* * * § proves that Chris¬ 
 tianity had as early as the closing years of the second centuiy 
 made some progress in Upper Egypt. It is probable that in 
 the first half of the third century this province had already a 
 version of tine New Testament in its own ancient dialect. 
 
 There are no distinct and credible accounts of the diffusion 
 of Christianity in Ethiopia (Abyssinia) in these centuries. 
 History gives no account of the consequences which resulted 
 from the conversion of the chamberlain of Candace, Queen of 
 Meroe, which is narrated in the Acts.f The first certain 
 indications of the conversion of a part of Abyssinia is that 
 through the instrumentality of Frumentius, in the fourth 
 centuiy. Yet the question might be raised,^: whether some 
 seeds of Christianity may not have been brought still earlier 
 into other districts of this country by Jewish Christians; and 
 whether many Jewish customs, and the importance which is 
 ascribed by one party to the baptism of Christ,§ may not be 
 referred to such an origin. 
 
 In consequence of their connection with Rome, the gospel 
 early found its way to Carthage , and to the whole of procon¬ 
 sular Africa. The church at Carthage becomes first known 
 to us in the last years of the second century, through the pres¬ 
 byter Tertullian ; but it was then evidently in a very flourishing 
 state. The Christians in those districts were already very 
 numerous, and complaints Avere made that Christianity con¬ 
 tinued to spread both in toAvn and country, among all ranks, 
 and e\ T en in the very highest. || To pass over those passages 
 Avhere Tertullian is evidently speaking rhetorically, Ave find 
 him mentioning in his address to Scapula, the governor,^" 
 a persecution of Christians in Mauritania. By the middle of 
 
 * Euseb. 1. VI. c. 1. t Chap. 8. 
 
 } The late Hr. Rettig, if I mistake not, has somewhere directed 
 
 attention to the same inquiry. 
 
 § See Journal of a Three Years’ Residence in Abyssinia, by S. Gobat, 
 p. 254. London, 1834. 
 
 || Apologet. c. 1 . Obsessam vociferantur civitatem; in agris, in cas- 
 tellis. in insulis Christianos ; omnem sexum, aetatem, conditionem, et 
 jam dignitatem transgredi ad hoe nomen. ^ Cap. 4. 
 
116 
 
 GAUL.—GERMANY. 
 
 the third century, indeed, Christianity had made such progress 
 in Mauritania and Numidia, that under Cyprian, Bishop 
 of Carthage, a synod was held consisting of eighty-seven 
 bishops. 
 
 Passing over to Europe, we have in Rome the chief but not 
 the only seat of the propagation of Christianity. Flourishing 
 communities, at Lugdunum (Lyons) and Vienne, become 
 known during a bloody persecution in 177. The great num¬ 
 ber of Christians from Asia Minor whom we find here, and 
 the close connection of these communities with those of that 
 country, lead to the conjecture that the commercial intercourse 
 between these districts of France and Asia Minor, an original 
 seat of the Christian Church, had led to the planting of a 
 Christian colony in Gaul. In the other parts of Gaul the pagan 
 superstition long withstood the further spread of Christianity. 
 Even as late as "the middle of the third century, few Christian 
 communities were to be found there. According to the 
 French historian, Gregory of Tours, seven missionaries came, 
 at that time, to Gaul from Rome, and founded churches in 
 seven cities, over which they became bishops. One of these 
 was that Dionysius, first bishop of the community at Paris, 
 whom later legends confounded with Dionysius the Areopa- 
 o'ite, who was converted at Athens by the Apostle St. Paul. 
 Gregory of Tours, who wrote near the end of the sixth Cen¬ 
 tura iii an age when so many fables were propagated respect¬ 
 ing' the origin of churches, is, we allow, no very trustworthy 
 authority ; still there may be some truth at the bottom of this 
 statement. One of the seven, Saturnin, founder of the cnurch 
 at Toulouse, is known to us by a much older document—the 
 relation of his martyrdom. 
 
 Irenteus, who became bishop of the church at Lyons some 
 time after the persecution of 177, speaks of the spread of the 
 gospel in Germany* But we must here distinguish the 
 different parts of Germany—the districts in subjection to the 
 Roman empire, and the still larger portion of free, indepen¬ 
 dent Germany. A seed of Christianity might easily find its way 
 into the first of these countries through their connection with 
 the province of Gaul. But the case was very different with those 
 hardy tribes who so fiercely maintained their ancient state of rude 
 freedom, and rejected all foreign institutions. Irenaeus, it is true, 
 * Adv. Hser. 1. I. c. 10. 
 
SPAIX. 
 
 117 
 
 says in another passage * “ Many tribes of the barbarians, 
 without paper and ink, have the words of salvation written in 
 their hearts through the Holy Ghost.”f He recognised in the 
 influence of Christianity that peculiar and essential quality 
 which enabled it to reach men in every stage of civilization, 
 and by its divine energy penetrate to their hearts. Still it is 
 also eeitain that Christianity would nowhere long maintain 
 the purity of its distinguishing essence where it did not enter 
 deep into the whole intellectual development of a people, and 
 where, together with the divine life proceeding from it, it 
 did not at the same time give an impulse to every branch of 
 human improvement. 
 
 Irenaeus is also the first to speak of the diffusion of Christ¬ 
 ianity in Spain (tv tu~lq ’Ifir/picuc). The tradition, which we 
 meet with as early as the beginning of the fourth century in 
 Lusebius,:j: that the Apostle Paul had preached the gospel in 
 Spain, cannot, it is true, be received as a sufficient evidence: 
 fox in those times there existed a very strong propensity to 
 convert into facts the weakest suppositions, presumptions, and 
 conjectures. And so what St. Paul himself writes (Romans, 
 xv. 24) concerning his intention might easily give rise to the 
 report. Put when the Roman bishop Clemens says§ that 
 the Apostle Paul went to the utmost limit of the West (rtpfsa 
 rijc (iv<r£we),|j we can scarcely understand such an expres¬ 
 sion as referring to Rome. Indeed, it naturally applies only 
 to Spain. Now as Clemens was, in all probability, a disciple 
 of the Apostle, it is hardly possible that he could have been 
 deceived in such a matter, whatever might have been the case 
 with those who came after him. Undoubtedly we cannot find 
 room for such a journey of the Apostle St. Paul to Spain, unless 
 we suppose that he was released from the imprisonment men¬ 
 tioned in the Acts, and after his release fulfilled the intention 
 which he had previously expressed. And this we must of 
 necessity conclude, so long as we acknowledge the genuineness 
 
 * L. III. c. 4. 
 
 f Sine charta et atramento scriptam habentes per Spiritum in cordibus 
 suis salutem. 
 
 + L. I. c. 10, s. 2. $Ep. I. v. 5. 
 
 || We cannot avoid once more protesting against all the forced inter¬ 
 pretations of these words which have been set forth of late. See my 
 History of the Planting, etc., Vol. I. p. 455. 
 
118 
 
 BRITAIN. 
 
 of his second Epistle to Timothy, and cannot bring ourselves 
 to adopt the forced interpretations which have been put on 
 some of its passages. 
 
 Of the early propagation of Christianity in Britain, Ter- 
 tullian is a witness ;* even though, from the rhetorical nature 
 of the passage, there may be some little exaggeration in the 
 statement that the gospel had already penetrated into those 
 parts of Britain not subjected to the Roman dominion. A 
 later tradition, given by Bede, in the eighth century, reports 
 that Lucius, a British king, requested the Roman bishop 
 Eleutherus, in the latter part of the second century, to send 
 missionaries to that country. But the peculiarities of the later 
 British church are evidence against its owing its origin to 
 Rome; for in many ritual points it dissented from the usage 
 of the Romish church, and agreed much more closely with 
 the churches of Asia Minor. It withstood, for a long time, 
 the authority of the Bishops of Rome. This circumstance 
 seems to indicate that the Britons received Christianity, either 
 immediately or through Gaul, from Asia Minor a thing 
 quite possible and easy by means of commercial intercourse. 
 The later Anglo-Saxons, who opposed the ecclesiastical inde¬ 
 pendence maintained by the Britons, and endeavoured to 
 establish the supremacy of Rome, were uniformly disposed to 
 trace back the establishment of the church to a Roman origin. 
 From such an attempt this and many other false legends may 
 have arisen. 
 
 We must now proceed to the conflicts with the state which 
 the Church had to sustain within the Roman empire. 
 
 3. Persecutions of the Christian Church. 
 
 First, the Causes of them. 
 
 Fully to appreciate the nature of these persecutions, it is, in 
 the first place, essential to understand their causes. It lias 
 often before this been a matter of surprise, that the Romans, a 
 people otherwise so tolerant, should have shown so impatient 
 and persecuting a spirit towards the Christians. But, in fact, 
 these statements about the religious tolerance of the Romans 
 require to be understood with much limitation. Ideas of the 
 universal rights of man, of universal religious freedom anti 
 
 * Adv. Jud. c. 7. 
 
PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 119 
 
 liberty of conscience, were altogether foreign to the views of 
 the ancient world. Nor could it well be otherwise: for with 
 them the idea of the state was the highest idea of ethics—the 
 end and realization of the supreme good. Consequently the 
 development of whatever else is good, or an object of human 
 desire, was made dependent on this. And so even the religious 
 element also was subordinated to the political. They knew 
 of none but state religions and national gods. It was Christ¬ 
 ianity that first of all and alone substituted more enlarged 
 views for this narrow principle of antiquity. Instead of 
 national deities, and the paramount obligation of political 
 ties, it taught men to worship the one God of all human, 
 and to see in all men alike the common image of that 
 one God, while, in the place of the state as the centre of 
 human interest, it substituted an universal kingdom of God, 
 embracing and superior to all human polities. Looked at 
 from this point of view, which was the one actually taken by 
 the ancient world, a defection from the religion of the state 
 could not appear otherwise than as a crime against the state.* 
 
 Now all this especially applies to the ancient Homan world, 
 with its exclusive political principle, which engrossed every 
 other interest. Its influence is distinctly recognisable in the 
 principle which Cicero lays down as a fundamental maxim of 
 legislation.f No man shall have particular gods of his own ; 
 no man shall worship by himself any new or foreign gods, 
 unless they have been publicly recognised by law (nisi pub- 
 lice adscitos). Although, in the times of the emperors, the 
 ancient laws were no longer strictly observed, since foreign cus¬ 
 toms had been constantly gaining ground in Home, and sub¬ 
 verting the ancient policy; yet, on the other hand, there were 
 many new reasons for zealously prohibiting the introduction of 
 new religions. Thus, at this date, the greatest alarm pre- 
 
 * As Varro had before distinguished a theologia philosophica et vera, 
 a theologia poetica et mythica, and a theologia civiiis, so Dio Chrysos¬ 
 tom, who flourished in the first half of the second century, (orat. 12,) 
 distinguishes three sources of religion—the universal religious con¬ 
 sciousness, the H'xa.inv Iti'voix ; poetry and morality left 
 
 free to propagate itself; and legislation, which constrains, threatens, and 
 punishes,— to voulo^itiucv, to atciyxaiov, to /jatci ^rifjola; xa.) oT^OTTa |e»v;— 
 although he rightly makes the first to be the universal and original 
 source from which all the rest has been derived. 
 
 f De legib. 1. II. c. 8. 
 
PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 120 
 
 vailed of everything to which a political aim could attach 
 itself, and the jealousy of despotism was quick to suspect 
 political designs, even where nothing of the kind was intended. 
 Religion and religious associations seemed well calculated to 
 serve as a cover for political plots and conspiracies, lhis 
 feeliim suggested the advice of Maecenas to Augustus, in the 
 well-known discourse which is reported by Dio Cassius, where, 
 although the historian may perhaps have put into the mouth 
 of Maecenas words which he never used, he yet expresses the 
 prevailing sentiments of the Roman statesmen at this period: 
 « Worship the gods in all respects according to the laws ot 
 your country, and compel all others to do the same. But 
 those who would introduce anything foreign in this particular 
 hate and punish ; not merely for the sake of the gods and because 
 whoever despises them is incapable of reverence tor anytlung 
 else, but because, by bringing in new divinities, such persons 
 mislead many to adopt also foreign laws. Hence conspiracies 
 and secret combinations—the last things to be tolerated in a 
 monarchy. Suffer no man either to deny the gods or to 
 practise sorcery.” The Roman jurist, Julms Pau us, cites the 
 following as one of the ruling principles of civil law in the 
 Roman 'state: “ Whoever introduces new religions, whose 
 
 tendency and character are unknown, whereby the minds ot 
 men might be disturbed,! were, if belonging to the higher 
 ranks, to be banished; if to the lower, punished with death. 
 It is then, at once evident, that Christianity, which produced 
 so great, and to the Roman statesman so incomprehensible an 
 a Station in the minds of men, would fall into the class ot 
 reliqiones nova. For in this principle we have the two points 
 of view presented under which Christianity would necessarily 
 come into collision with the laws of the state. 1 . It seduced 
 Roman citizens from the religion of the state, to the observ¬ 
 ance of which they were bound by the laivs, and also from 
 compliance with the “ Caremonice Romance .’ Accordingly, 
 
 many of the magistrates, who felt no personal antipathy to 
 Christianity, urged the Christians who were brought before 
 them to comply, at least outwardly, with what the laws re¬ 
 quired ; viz., to observe the religious ceremonies prescribed by 
 the state; and explained to them that the state concerned itse 
 
 * ’a 3‘» fTva*. the very term applied to the Christians, 
 f De quibus animi hominum moventur. 
 
PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 121 
 
 only with the outward act, and that consequently, so long as 
 these were performed, it would leave them free to believe and 
 worship in their heart whatever they chose ; that, in short, 
 they might continue to worship their own God, provided only 
 they would worship the Roman gods also. 2. It introduced, 
 a new religion , not admitted by the laws of the slate into the 
 class of religiones licitce. Hence, according to Tertullian, 
 the common taunt of the pagans against the Christians was— 
 non licet esse vos—“ you are not allowed by the laws ; ” and 
 Celsus accuses them of secret associations, Contrary to the 
 laws.* 
 
 Without doubt, the Romans did exercise a certain religious 
 toleration, but it was, however, one which was so intimately 
 dependent on their polytheistic ideas of religion, that, by its 
 very nature, it could not admit of application. They were in 
 the habit of securing to the conquered nations the free exer¬ 
 cise of their own religions,f hoping thereby to gain them over 
 more completely to their interests, and also to make friends of 
 their gods. The Romans, who were religiously inclined, 
 attributed their sovereignty of the world to this policy of 
 conciliating the gods of every nation. J Even without the 
 limits of their own country, individvals of these nations were 
 allowed the free exercise of their opinions; and hence Rome, 
 into which there was a constant influx of strangers from all 
 quarters of the world, became the seat of every description of 
 religion. “ Men of a thousand nations,” says Dionysius of 
 Halicarnassus,§ “ come to the city, and must worship the gods 
 of their country, according to the laws which prevail at home.” 
 It frequently happened that many things borrowed from these 
 foreign modes of worship were, with certain modifications, 
 introduced into the public worship of the Roman state; but 
 then a special decree of the senate was requisite before a 
 Roman citizen could legally join in the observance of any 
 such foreign rites. At this particular period, indeed, when 
 
 * 'fi; crvv§r,Ka.t oru^a. to, nvo/Aitrfi'viu •xoiovfiivuv. L. I. C. 1. 
 
 f See the words of Marcus Agrippa, in his plea for the religious free¬ 
 dom of the Jews : Ttjy i vticofjoovtav, rut to cufjovoL'i tui ivSfaTajv ysyof 01 uftcc} 
 
 i X l, TOUTOJ ^JjlT^OVfJOii^ TO) i^UVCLl XGCTCt ^tJPOLV tXctffTOlS Tfl OlXilO, Tt/XCdTiV CLyllV X.CCI 
 
 2/a£> jv. Joseph. Archseol. 1. XVI. c. 2, s. 4. 
 
 + See the Pagan’s language in Miuucius Felix, and in Aristides’ 
 Encom. Romse. 
 
 § See Aristid. 1. c. and Dionys. Halicarnass., Archseol. 1. II. c. 19. 
 
122 
 
 PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 the authority of ail national religions was on the wane; when 
 the unsatisfied religious wants of man longed after some new 
 thing; and when this was continually offered by the conflux 
 to Rome of strangers from all quarters of the world,—it fre¬ 
 quently happened that Romans adopted foreign modes of 
 worship, which did not as yet belong to the religions recog¬ 
 nised by the state (to the religionibus publice adscitis) : but 
 then this was an irregularity which old-fashioned Romans attri¬ 
 buted to the corruptions of the times and the decline of ancient 
 manners. Like many other evils which could not be sup¬ 
 pressed, it was left unnoticed. The change, moreover, might 
 be the less striking, since those who had adopted the foreign 
 rites observed at the same time the caeremoniae Romanae. 
 Occasionally, however, when the evil had become rampant, or 
 when a zeal was awakened in behalf of the ancient manners 
 and republican virtues, new laws were enacted for restraining 
 profane rites (ad coercendos profanos ritus) and repressing the 
 growth of foreign superstitions (the valescere superstitiones 
 externas) ; * every religion not Roman being regarded as a 
 superstition by the Roman statesman. With these views, it 
 is clear that the best emperors, whose object it was to restore 
 the old life of the Roman state, must necessarily be hostile to 
 Christianity, which appeared to them in no other light than as 
 a “ superstitio externa ; ” while worse rulers, though not rising 
 above the prejudices of a contracted nationality, but still as 
 devoid of the old Roman prejudice, might, from indifference 
 to the old Roman policy in general, calmly look on when 
 Christianity was making encroachment on all sides. 
 
 Even the Jews had had the free and undisturbed exercise of 
 their religion secured to them by decrees of the senate and 
 imperial edicts, and the God of the Jews was regarded by 
 many as a powerful national God. That people were con¬ 
 demned as narrow-minded and intolerant only because they 
 hostilely excluded the worship of other gods ; or by others the 
 fault was laid to the jealous character of that Being himself, 
 who would have no other gods besides. Judaism was a religio 
 licita for the Jews; and it was therefore made a matter of re- 
 
 * Tacitus places together, in a proposition to the senate, the phrases 
 “ Publica circa bonas artes socordia, et quia externa; superstitiones va- 
 lescant.” Annal. 1. XI. e. 15. A lady of rank is accused as supersti- 
 tionis rea. Annal. 1. XIII. c. 32. 
 
PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 123 
 
 proach to the Christians that they iiacl contrived, by first coming 1 
 forward as a Jewish sect, to creep in under the cover of a tole¬ 
 rated religion.* * * § Nevertheless, even the Jews were not allowed 
 to propagate their religion among the Roman pagans, who 
 were expressly forbidden, under heavy penalties, to undergo 
 circumcision. No doubt, at this time, the number of prose¬ 
 lytes that was made from the pagans was very great. This 
 the public authorities sometimes overlooked ; but occasionally 
 severe laws were passed anew to repress the evil; as, for 
 instance, by the senate under the emperor Tiberius,| and by 
 Antoninus Pius and Septimius Severus. 
 
 The case was altogether different with Christianity. Here 
 was no ancient national form of worship, as in all the other 
 religions. Christianity appeared rather as a defection from a 
 religio licita, —an insurrection against a venerable national 
 faith.| This, in conformity with the prevailing mode of think¬ 
 ing, is charged against the Christians by Celsus. § “ The 
 
 Jews,” he says, “ are a peculiar people, and they observe a 
 national worship, whatever may be its character; and in so 
 doing they act like other men. It is right for every people 
 to reverence their ancient laws, but to desert them is a crime.” 
 Hence the very common taunt thrown out against the Chris¬ 
 tians, that they were neither one thing nor the other, neither 
 Jews nor pagans, but a genus tertium. A religion for all 
 mankind must have appeared, to all who entertained the ancient 
 mode of thinking, a thing contrary to nature, threatening the 
 dissolution of all existing order. The man that can believe 
 it possible, says Celsus, for Greeks and Barbarians, in Asia, 
 Europe, and Libya, to agree in one code of religious laws, 
 must be utterly void of sense. || And yet, what was held to 
 be impossible seemed every day more likely to be realized. 
 
 * Sub umbraculo religionis saltern licitse.—Tertullian. 
 
 t The senatus consultum de sacris iEgyptiis Judaicisque pellendis. 
 Tacit. Annal. 1. II. c. 85. 
 
 t A religion proceeding from an it/rumaxlvcci to xoivdv toov UySaL?. 
 c. Ctds. I. III. c. 7. For keeping the Christians united together «|/o- 
 XZ'-iv; ItTciS Iff IS k rraffi;, L. III. C. 14. 
 
 § Anv oravToe; xv^^uitov; kx-tx tog tcgt^/os oux, av fri 
 
 tog/too. 'X.oiffTixvovs oi tx xx-raXivrdv'rx; x.x) ov"£ iv ti Ty^^avoWa; 
 
 iSvos oj$ ’lovbctioiy lyxT rnou$ •z’Qoa'rlSicrQa.i 7 y\ rou ’l/jcrou ^ibccaxa-XAia.. L. ^ , 
 
 c. 25. 
 
 || His words are, 'O tovto oidf/.ivo$ oThiv ovo\v. L. VIII. c. 72. 
 
124 
 
 PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 Christianity was seen to be making progress steadily among 
 people of every rank, and threatening to overthrow the religion 
 of the state, and with it the whole frame of civil society, which 
 seemed closely interwoven with the former. Nothing remained, 
 therefore, but to oppose the inward power, which men were 
 unwilling to acknowledge, by outward force. The whole 
 shape and form of the Christian worship, no less than the idea 
 of a religion for mankind, was in direct contradiction to the 
 opinion hitherto prevalent on religious matters. It excited 
 suspicion to observe that the Christians had nothing of all 
 that which was usually found in every other form of worship ; 
 nothing of all that which even the Jews had in common with 
 the heathens. So Celsus calls it the token of a secret compact, 
 of an invisible order, that the Christians alone have no altars, 
 images, or temples.* Again, the intimate brotherly union 
 which prevailed among the Christians, the circumstance that 
 every one among them, in every town where fellow-believers 
 dwelt, immediately found friends who were dearer to him than 
 all the friends of this world—this was something that men 
 could not comprehend.| The Roman politicians were utterly 
 unable to fathom the nature of the bond which so united the 
 Christians with one another. The jealousy of despotism could 
 everywhere easily see or fear political aims, lo the Roman 
 statesman, who had no conception of the rights of conscience, 
 the unbending will, which could be forced by no fear and by 
 no tortures to yield obedience to the laws of the state in 
 reference to religion and to perform the prescribed ceremonies, 
 appeared a blind obstinacy (intlexibilis obstinatio, as men 
 called it). And in the eyes of rulers who were accustomed to 
 servile obedience, such invincible determination must have 
 appeared as something extremely dangerous. Many would be 
 more ready to pardon the Christians for their neglect of the 
 public worship of the gods, than their want of reverence for 
 the emperors, and their refusal to take any part in those 
 idolatrous demonstrations of homage which pagan flattery had 
 invented, such as sprinkling their images with incense, and 
 swearing by their genius. “ I will assuredly,” said fertullian, 
 “ call the emperor my lord—but in the ordinary acceptation ; 
 
 * Thirrov a^ctyou; xa'i ivropejirov xmyuv'ia; fjvS-t L. VIII. C. 17. 
 
 f See the language of the Pagan in Minucius Felix, cited above, at 
 page 105. 
 
PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 125 
 
 but not if I am forced to call him Lord in the place of God. 
 In other respects I am free of him ; for I have only one 
 Lord—the Almighty and eternal God—the same who is also 
 the emperor’s Lord. How should he wish to be the Lord , 
 who is the father of his country ? ” * * * § How strongly contrasted 
 with this free, high-spirited sentiment of the Christian is the 
 language of the supercilious and self-styled philosopher Celsus 
 to the Christians: “ Why should it be wrong, then, to seek 
 favour with the rulers of men,f since, most assuredly, it is not 
 without a divine providence that these have been exalted to 
 the government of this world ? And if you are required to 
 swear by the emperor among men, this surely is nothing so 
 very grievous; for whatever you receive in life you receive 
 from him.” J Whenever, on the anniversary of the emperor’s 
 accession, or at the celebration of a triumph, public festivals 
 were appointed, the Christians alone kept away, to avoid that 
 which was calculated to wound their religious or moral feel¬ 
 ings, which was uncongenial with the temper of mind inspired 
 by their faith. It is no doubt true that many carried this 
 feeling to an extreme, and shrank from joining even in such 
 demonstrations of respect and rejoicing as involved nothing 
 that was repugnant to Christian faith and decorum, simply 
 because in their minds they were associated with the pagan 
 worship and customs, such, for example, as the illumination of 
 their houses, and the decorating them with festoons of laurel.§ 
 Thus on one occasion a sum of money was distributed by the 
 emperor as a gratuity among the soldiers. When, as was cus¬ 
 tomary, all the rest had presented themselves, with garlands on 
 their heads, for the purpose of receiving their portion, a single 
 Christian soldier came with the garland in his hand, because 
 
 * Dicam plane imperatorem dominum, sed more communi, sed quando 
 non cogor, ut dominum Dei vice dicam. Caiterum liber sum illi, domi- 
 nus enim meus unus est, Deus omnipotens at seternus, idem qui et ipsius. 
 Qui pater patriae est, quomodo dominus est? Apologet. c. 34. 
 
 T Tan; iv diiSguvroij dvvutmt; kcc'i (oatnXlu; 
 
 t A'SoTa; yu/i rourcu ra iori xai on a.v Xocfi/iclvrts s» ri (oi'u, oruoa. 
 
 rourou Xa/jfidvtts. c. Cels. 1. VIII. e. 63 et 67. 
 
 § Tertullian, in his book de idololatria, complains that so many 
 Christians had no hesitation to take a share in such festivities- Christ, 
 he observes, had said, Let your works shine, at nunc lucent tabernae et 
 januse nostrce, plures jam invenies etlmicorum fores sine lucernis et 
 laureis, quarn Christianorum. De idololatria, c. 15. 
 
126 
 
 PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 he held the practice of crowning to be a pagan rite.* Such 
 acts were, indeed, but the extravagance of individuals 01 ot a 
 party ; in which, however, the deep sincerity which prompted 
 them deserved respect. But the majority were far from approv¬ 
 ing such excess of zeal. And yet the mistake of individuals 
 was readily laid to the charge of all. Hence the accusation, so 
 dangerous in those times, of high treason, (crimen majestatis,) 
 which was brought against the Christians. They were called 
 “ irreverent to the Caesars, enemies of the Caesars, of the 
 Homan people” (irreligiosos in Caesaies, hostes Csesarum, 
 hostes populi Romani). In like manner, when only a small 
 party of the Christians regarded the occupation of a soldier as 
 incompatible with the nature of Christian love and of the 
 Christian calling, it was converted into an accusation against 
 all. and against Christianity generally. “ Does not the em¬ 
 peror punish you justly?” says Celsus; “ for should all do 
 like you, he would be left alone,—there would be none to 
 defend him ; the rudest barbarians would make themselves 
 masters of the world, and every trace, as well of your own 
 religion itself, as of true wisdom, would be obliterated from the 
 human race; for fancy not that your supreme God would come 
 down from heaven and fight for us. j 
 
 If the Christians were accused generally of morosely with¬ 
 drawing themselves from all commerce with the world and from 
 the courtesies of civil and social life, this charge was grounded 
 partly in the relation itself of Christianity to paganism, as it 
 was understood by the prevailing habits of thought.; but in 
 part also it was owing to a certain one-sided tendency, which 
 sprang out of the way in which the Christian life developed 
 itself in opposition to paganism. Thus the Christians were 
 represented as men dead to the world, and useless for all affairs 
 of life ; | dumb in public—loquacious among themselves ; and 
 it was asked, what would become of the business of the world, 
 if all men were like them ? 
 
 Such were the causes which impelled the Roman governors 
 to persecute the Christians ; but all persecutions did not pro- 
 
 * Tertullian wrote his book “de corona militis” in defence of this 
 soldier’s conduct which had been condemned by his fellow-believers. 
 
 f L. Vlll. c. 68. . . .. 
 
 + Homines infructuosi in negotio, in publico muti, in angulis garruli. 
 
 See the words of the Pagan in Minucius Felix. 
 
PERSECUTION—ITS CAUSES. 
 
 127 
 
 ceed from the state. The Christians ivere often victims of 
 the popular fury . The populace saw in them the enemies of 
 . their g° ds ; and with them tins was the same as having no 
 religion at all. Deniers of the gods, Atheists, (adeoi,) were 
 the titles by which the Christians were commonly designated 
 among the people; and of such men the vilest and most 
 improbable stories could easily gain credence. In their assem¬ 
 blies, it was generally reported, they abandoned themselves to 
 unnatural lusts; they killed and devoured children. Accu¬ 
 sations these, such as we find circulated, in the most diverse 
 periods, against religious sects that have once become the 
 objects of the fanatical hatred of the populace. The reports 
 oDdiscon tented slaves, or of persons from whom torture had 
 wrung whatever avowal was desired, were employed to support 
 t hese absurd charges, and to justify the popular hatred. If in 
 hot climates the long absence of rain occasioned a drought; if 
 m Egypt the Nile failed to irrigate the fields; if in Rome the 
 filler overflowed its banks; if a contagious disease was raging; 
 if an earthquake, a famine, or any other public calamity 
 occurred, the popular rage was easily turned against the Chris¬ 
 tians. “ We may ascribe all this,” was the cry, “ to the aimer 
 of the gods on account of the spread of Christianity.” Thus 
 according to Augustine, it had become a proverb in North 
 Africa, If there is no rain, lay the blame on the Christians.” * 
 Ann what wonder if the people so judged, when one who set 
 up for a philosopher, a Porphyry, assigned it as the cause for 
 the inveteracy of a contagious and desolating sickness, that, by 
 reason of the spread of Christianity, Esculapius could no 
 longer exercise any influence on the earth. 
 
 I here was, besides, no lack of individuals ready to excite 
 t , P°P u ' ar ra 8' c against the Christians—priests, artisans, and 
 others, who, like Demetrius in the Acts, drew their gains from 
 idolatry ; magicians, who saw their juggling trickery exposed ; 
 sanctimonious Cynics, who found their hypocrisy unmasked by 
 the Christians. When, in the time of the emperor Marcus 
 Aurelius, the magician whose life has been written by Lucian, 
 Alexander of Abonoteichus, observed that his arts of deception 
 had ceased to gain credence in the cities, he exclaimed, “ The 
 1 ontus is filled with atheists and Christians;” and called on 
 toe people to stone them, if they did not wish to drawdown on 
 * Non pluit Deus, due ad Christianos. 
 
128 
 
 CHRISTIANS UNDER TIBERIUS. 
 
 themselves the anger of the gods. He would never exhibit Ins 
 arts before the people, until he had first proclaimed, ‘ If any 
 Atheist Christian, or Epicurean has sneaked in here as a spy, 
 let him begone!” By the advocates of religion among the 
 heathens, an appeal to popular violence seems, at this time, to 
 have been considered the most convenient course. Justin 
 Martyr knew that Crescens,—one of the common Pseudo¬ 
 cynics of those days, who were sanctimonious demagogues,— 
 attempted to stir up the people against the Christians, and had 
 threatened Justin’s own life, because he had laid bare Ins 
 hypocrisy. 
 
 * From these remarks on the causes of the persecutions, 
 the conclusion is obvious that, until Christianity had been 
 received by express laws of the State into the class oj lawful 
 religions (religiones licitw), the Christians could not enjoy 
 any general and secure tranquillity in the exercise of their 
 religion; and within the Roman empire they were con¬ 
 stantly exposed to the rage of the populace and to the malice 
 of individuals. 
 
 We shall now proceed to consider the varying circumstances 
 of the Christian Church, under the governments of the several 
 emperors who were so differently affected towards it. 
 
 4. Situation of the Christian Church under the several 
 
 Emperors. 
 
 Tertullian relates t of the emperor Tiberius, that lie was 
 moved by Pilate’s report of the miracles and resurrection of 
 Christ to propose a bill to the senate, that Christ should be 
 received among the gods of Rome; but that the senate re¬ 
 jected the proposition, that they might not renounce then- 
 ancient prerogative of determining all matters relating to “ ne w 
 religions” upon their own movement (e motu propno). -Lhe 
 emperor, however, he goes on to say, did not wholly desist 
 from his purpose, but went so far as to threaten with severe 
 penalties all such as should accuse the Christians merely on 
 the ground of their religion. But an author of so uncritical 
 a mind as Tertullian cannot possibly be received as a valid 
 witness for a tale which wears on its face all the marks of 
 
 * See the Timocles in Lucian’s Jupiter Tragoed. 
 f Apologet. c. 5 et 21. 
 
CHRISTIANS UNDER CLAUDIUS. 
 
 129 
 
 untruth. Should the account be considered as an exaggerated 
 one, which has still some foundation of truth, it would be 
 difficult to tell what it can be. We cannot even infer from 
 it that the emperor ever proposed to grant to the Christians a 
 free toleration. Both the character of Pilate makes it incredible 
 that what he saw ot Christ left so lasting an impression on 
 his mind as this account assumes; and it is also improbable 
 that any such effect would have been produced by his report 
 on the mind of Tiberius. Moreover it would not be in keeping 
 with the servility of the senate under Tiberius for them to act 
 in the way ascribed to them in this account. Besides, as there 
 were as yet no accusers of a Christian sect, there could have 
 been no occasion for passing a law against such accusers. In 
 fact, the subsequent history shows that no such law of Tibe¬ 
 rius existed. Probably Tertullian allowed himself to be 
 deceived by some spurious document. 
 
 At first the Christians were confounded with the Jews. 
 Consequently the edict issued by the emperor Claudius, in tire 
 year 53, for the banishment of the turbulent Jews, would 
 involve the Christians also, if there were any at that time in 
 Pome, and especially if Christianity made its first converts 
 there among Jews and they continued to observe the Jewish 
 customs. Suetonius says, “ The emperor Claudius expelled 
 the Jews from Rome, who were constantly raising disturb¬ 
 ances at the instigation of Chrestus.” * It might be supposed 
 that some turbulent Jew, then living, of this name was in¬ 
 tended, one perhaps of the numerous class of Jewish freed men 
 in Pome. But as no individual so universally well known as 
 the expressions of Suetonius imply tins Chrestus to have been 
 is elsewhere mentioned ; and as the name of Christus (xp<oro G ) 
 was frequently pronounced Chrestus (xp>'ivtoc) by the pagans ; 
 it is highly probable this Suetonius, who wrote half a century 
 after the event, throwing together what he had heard about 
 the political expectations of a Messiah among the Jews, and 
 the obscure and confused accounts which had reached him 
 respecting Christ, may have been led to express himself in 
 this vague and indefinite manner. 
 
 However, Christianity was making continual progress 
 among the heathens in the Roman empire, and the worship 
 of such converts, regulated in accordance with the principles 
 
 * Impulsore Chresto assidue tumultuantes Roma expulit. 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
130 
 
 CHRISTIANS 
 
 of the Apostle St. Paul, rendered it no longer possible to 
 mistake the Christian for a Jewish sect. Such was the 
 case particularly with the Roman communities, as the per¬ 
 secution which we shall soon have to mention will show; 
 for it could not have arisen if the Christians had been held 
 
 _ as men who, being descended from Jews, observed the 
 
 Mosaic laws—to be simply a sect of that people. They 
 must already have drawn on themselves, in the capital ot 
 the world, the fanatical hatred of the populace, a.s the 
 tertium genus, neither one thing nor the other. Already 
 had the popular feeling given currency to those monstrous 
 reports we so lately noticed, of unnatural crimes to which 
 the secret sect of these enemies of the gods abandoned them¬ 
 selves.* It was not the principles of the Roman consti¬ 
 tution, but the popular hatred, that furnished the occasion for 
 the first persecution of the Christians in Rome. Its imme¬ 
 diate cause, however, was wholly accidental: and, moreover, 
 that precisely so reckless a monster as Isero should be the firs 
 persecutor of the Christians, was likewise owing primarily to 
 a concurrence of accidental circumstances. Yet there was 
 somethin"- intrinsically significant in the fact that the very 
 man who before all others had cast off all reverence for religious 
 and moral obligation, who was the impersonation of human 
 will revolting against all higher and diviner authority, should 
 give the first impulse to the persecution of Christianity. 
 
 The moving cause which led Nero, in the year 64, to vent 
 his fury upon the Christians, was originally nothing else than 
 a wish to remove from himself the suspicion of being the 
 author of the conflagration of Rome, and to fix the guilt on 
 others. As the Christians were already the objects of popular 
 hatred, and the fanatical mob were prepared to believe them 
 capable of any flagitious crime that might be charged upon 
 them, such an accusation, if brought against the Christians, 
 would be most readily credited.f By inflicting sufferings on 
 a class of men hated by the people, he would make himself 
 popular, and at the same time gain fresh gratification for his 
 satanic cruelty. All being seized whom the popular hatred had 
 
 * We believe the passage in Tacitus (Annal. 1. XV. e. 44), “per 
 flagitia invisos, quos vulgus Christianos appellabat,” must have reference 
 to these reports. 
 
 f Abelemlo rumori subdidit recs, says Tacitus ot Aero. 
 
UNDER NERO. 
 
 131 
 
 stigmatized as Christians, and therefore profligate men,* it 
 might easily happen that some who were not really Christians 
 would be included in the number. f 
 
 Those who were now arrested as Christians were, by the 
 emperor’s commands, executed in the most cruel manner. 
 Some were crucified ; others sown up in the skins of wild 
 beasts and exposed to be torn in pieces by dogs ; others, again, 
 had their garments smeared over with some combustible 
 material, and were then set on fire to illuminate the public 
 gardens at night. 
 
 This persecution was not, indeed, in the first instance, a ge¬ 
 neral one ; but fell exclusively on the Christians in Rome, who 
 were accused of being the incendiaries of the city. Yet what 
 had occurred in the capital could not fail of being attended 
 throughout all the provinces with serious consequences affecting 
 the situation of the Christians, whose religion moreover was 
 an unlawful one. 
 
 The impression which was left behind by this first and truly 
 horrible persecution, at the hands of one who presented so re¬ 
 markable a contrast to the great historical phenomenon of 
 Christianity, long survived in the minds of the Christians. Nor 
 was it altogether without truth if the image of Antichrist—the 
 representative of that last reaction of the power of ungodliness 
 against God’s government of the world, and against Chris¬ 
 tianity—was transferred to so colossal an exhibition of self- 
 
 * Quos per flagitia invisos vulgus Christianos appellabat, says Tacitus. 
 
 t In the iuterpretation of Tacitus’ account of this transaction several 
 points may be doubtful. When he says, Primo correpti, qui fatebantur, 
 the question arises, what did they confess?—that they had caused the 
 fire, or that they were Christians ? When he says, Deinde judicio eoruin 
 multitudo ingens haud perinde in crimine incendii, quam odio human! 
 generis convicti sunt, the question occurs, does the latter refer to all, to 
 those that “ confessed,” as well as the rest,— so that in this case all are pro¬ 
 nounced by Tacitus free from the alleged crime of being the authors of 
 the conflagration ; or do the words refer only to the “ multitudo ingens,’* 
 so that the first-named class, “ qui fatebantur,” were designated as being 
 really guilty of setting fire to the city ? If the latter be the case, and if 
 the fateri is to be referred to the incendium, and the whole account 
 deserves confidence, we must suppose these to he persons actually em¬ 
 ployed by Nero for the perpetration of the deed;—not Christians, but 
 men whom, as hated and abominable, the people designated by the name 
 of Christians. These perhaps, with the hope of bettering their fate, may 
 then have denounced as Christians many others, of whom some may 
 have really been, and others were not such. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 CHRISTIANS UNDER DOMITIAN. 
 
 will, which rebelled against all holy restraints, and yet yearned 
 after the unnatural,* * * § as the character of Nero presented. It 
 is a fact frequently observed, that the impression left by a man 
 in whom some great movement of the history of the world has 
 been exhibited, or from whom a great power of destruction has 
 gone forth, is not immediately effaced. Room is scarcely allowed 
 for the thought that such a person has really ceased to exist. 
 Examples of such a phenomenon are furnished by the cases of 
 the emperor Frederic II. and of Napoleon. So it was in 
 the case of this monstrous exhibition of the power of evii. 
 The rumour long prevailed among tire heathens that Nero 
 was not dead, but had retired to some place of secrecy, from 
 which he would again make his appearance,!—a rumour 
 which, for their own ends, several adventurers and impostors 
 took advantage of. The legend assumed also a Christian dress, 
 under which it ran that Nero had retired beyond the Eu¬ 
 phrates, and would return as Antichrist,J to finish what he 
 had already begun, the destruction of that Babylon, the capital 
 of the world. 
 
 The despotic Domitian, who ascended the imperial throne 
 in 81, was in the practice of encouraging informers, and so, 
 under various pretexts, contrived to get rid of those per¬ 
 sons who had excited his suspicions or his cupidity. In this 
 reign, therefore, the charge of embracing Christianity would, 
 after that of high treason (crimen majestatis), § be the most 
 common one. In consequence of such accusations many 
 were condemned to death, or to the confiscation of their pro¬ 
 perty and banishment to an island. |j 
 
 * A characteristic trait of Nero, as described by Tacitus,—“ incredi- 
 biliuin cupitor.” Annal. 1. XV. c. 42. 
 
 t The words of Tacitus are, Vario super exitu ejus rumore eoque plu- 
 ribus vivere eum fingentibus credentibusque. Hist. 1. II. c. 8. 
 
 | In the Pseudo-Sibylline books: ETP ayu.xdfj.fu itrd^av Siu aura*. 
 
 § The words of Dio Cassius, 1. LXVII. c. 14: “EyxXmuu a3f-T>iro;, L<p' 
 
 r,; XU.1 oiXXoi u; ca ruv ’I oJoxiuy r,Sri i*i>zlXXovr-; toXXoi xun}ixa<rSr,<Txv. TllC 
 
 charge of combined with that of an inclination to Jewish 
 
 customs, may allude to Christianity, unless dShorm is to be understood 
 as barely refering to the denial of the gods of the state religion. At all 
 events, the charge of iSsim,-, if applied to the embracing of Judaism, 
 which was at least the worship of a well-known national god, and for 
 the Jews a lawful religion, could, a fortiori, be brought against the con¬ 
 version to Christianity. 
 
 l| Besides Dio Cassius, another historian, cited in the chronicle of 
 
CHRISTIANS UNDER NERVA. 
 
 133 
 
 The emperor moreover was secretly informed that there 
 were living in Palestine two individuals of the race of David 
 and Jesus, who were engaged in seditious undertakings. The 
 seditious tendency of the Jewish expectations of a Messiah 
 were well known, and the language of the Christians, in 
 speaking of the kingdom of Christ, was often misunderstood.* 
 Domitian caused the accused to be brought before him, and, 
 having convinced himself that they were poor innocent coun¬ 
 trymen, who were very far from engaging in any political 
 schemes, he allowed them to return home in peace, j But 
 from this act of mildness it cannot certainly be inferred that 
 the emperor revoked those measures which had been adopted 
 against the Christians generally, and for which he had other 
 motives. J 
 
 The emperor Nerva, who assumed the government in the 
 year 96, was by the natural justice and philanthropy of his 
 character altogether an enemy to that system of information 
 and sycophancy which had been the occasion of so much evil 
 in the time of his predecessors. This of itself was favourable 
 to the Christians, inasmuch as the crime of adopting their 
 religion had been one of the most common grounds of accu¬ 
 sation. Nerva set at liberty those who had been condemned 
 on charges of this nature, and recalled such as had been 
 banished. He also ordered all slaves and freed men, who had 
 informed against their masters, to be executed. He forbade 
 generally the information of slaves against their masters to be 
 received. All this must have been a benefit to the Chris¬ 
 tians, since the complaints which were brought against them 
 proceeded frequently from ill-disposed slaves. Such accusa¬ 
 tions and charges as had furnished the matter of the majority 
 of condemnations under the preceding reign could no longer 
 be brought forward, and in this general regulation Christianity 
 
 Eusebius, namely, Eruttius, says that many suffered mart\'rdom under 
 the reign of this emperor. 
 
 * For evidence of this, see Justiu Martyr (Apolog. 1. II. c. 58). 
 ’AwuVavTif /Wxdav T^'r'hox.Zvrus bpZf, Zucoiruf Xtyut t.um; 
 
 v , nt\r)(pct f ri. * 
 
 t Ilegesippus in Euseb. 1. III. c. 19 and 20. 
 
 t 1 ertullian certainly expresses himsedf in too general a manner 
 when he says (Apologet. c. 5) that Domitian made but one attempt to 
 persecute the Christians; but that he desisted from his purpose, and 
 recalled those that had been banished. 
 
134 
 
 CHRISTIAN'S 
 
 was probably included. * Thus, the complaints against the 
 Christians must have been suspended during the short reign 
 of Nerva it is true; lasting tranquillity, however, was far 
 from being secured to them, for their faith was not recog¬ 
 nised by any public act as a religio licita. It is therefore 
 easily conceivable, that if, during these few years, Christianity 
 was permitted to spread itself without opposition, the fury ot 
 its enemies, which had been for a while held in check, would 
 break forth with fresh violence on this emperor’s death. _ 
 And this was actually the case under the reign of I rajan, 
 after the year 99. As this emperor was a statesman in the 
 Roman sense, he could not well overlook the encroachments 
 on all sides of a religious community so entirely repugnant in 
 its character to the Roman spirit. And the law which, for the 
 purpose of suppressing the factious element in many districts, 
 he had issued against close associations (the Hetaeriae), mig it 
 easily be turned against the Cliristians, who formed a party so 
 closely united together. It was at this time (a.d. 110) the 
 younger Pliny, whose noble susceptibility to all that, is pure in 
 humanity, shines forth so amiably in his letters, came, as 
 proconsul, to Bithynia and Pontus, countries in which the 
 Christians were very numerous. Many of them were brought 
 before his tribunal. He found himself in some perplexity, as 
 such transactions were altogether new to him, as there was no 
 definite law on the matter, except the general principles ot the 
 civil code of the empire, relating to “religiones novm et pere- 
 o-rince,” and especially as the number of the accused was so 
 o-reat. “ For many,” he writes to the emperor, “ ot every age 
 and rank, and of both sexes, are involved in the danger; tor 
 the contagion of this superstition has seized not only cities, 
 but also the villages and open country.” The temples were 
 almost deserted, the ordinary rites of worship had tor a long 
 time been interrupted, and victims for sacrifice were rarely 
 purchased.! Pliny, like a lover of justice, did not allow him¬ 
 self to be biassed by vague reports and prejudices, nut took ail 
 pains to inform himself as to the character of the Christian 
 
 * Dio Cassius mentions, in connection with the crimen majestatis, the 
 charge of also of the fa;, although certainly by a^.fau. 
 
 we are not to understand the attorns, or Christianity. . ,. 
 
 t Plin 1. X. ep. 97. Prope jam desolata templa, sacra solenma dm 
 intermissa, "victimae, quarum adhuc rarissimus emtor inveniebatur. 
 
UNDER TRAJAN. 
 
 135 
 
 sect. He questioned such as had for many years been sepa¬ 
 rated from the Christian community; and apostates, we must 
 remember, are usually little inclined to speak well of the society 
 to which they formerly belonged. Following the cruel cus¬ 
 tom of Roman justice, which knew nothing of man’s universal 
 rights, he applied the torture to two female slaves, who held 
 the office of deaconesses in the Christian communities, for tne 
 purpose of extorting from them the truth. And yet all that 
 he could learn was only that the Christians were accustomed 
 to meet together on a certain day (Sunday) ; that they sang 
 together a hymn in praise of their God, Christ; and that they 
 bound one another,* not to the commission of crimes,+ but to 
 abstain from theft, from adultery; never to break their word; 
 to withhold from none the property intrusted to their keep¬ 
 ing ; l that after this they separated, and met again in the 
 evening at a simple and innocent meal.§ And even these latter 
 assemblies they had discontinued, in obedience to the emperor’s 
 edict against the Heteeriac. 
 
 If now we compare Pliny with his friend Tacitus, so far as 
 it concerns their treatment of Christianity, we must assign to 
 the former the merit of greater freedom and impartiality of 
 judgment. Tacitus, without entering into any investigation 
 of tacts, allowing himself to be swayed by his prejudices 
 against everything not Roman, condemns at once a religion 
 which came from the Jews, and whose founder had been 
 executed by the order of a Roman governor, and which, more¬ 
 over, found its most numerous adherents among people of 
 the lower class, and gives credence to all the popular reports 
 about it which fell in with those prejudices. lie reckons 
 Christianity among the many atrocious and shameless things 
 which from all quarters flowed together to Rome, and found 
 sympathy in the great capital of the world. || He sees in it 
 nothing but an exitiabilis superstitio —in the Christians only 
 
 Au allusion to the baptismal vow, the sacramentum militiee Chris¬ 
 tiana', to which there is frequent reference in the practical homilies. 
 
 t A plain contradiction of those popular rumours respecting the 
 objects had in view in the secret assemblies among the Christians. 
 
 1 Whoever by such a sin violated his baptismal vow was excluded 
 from the fellowship of the church. 
 
 § Plainly in contradiction of the popular rumours respecting those 
 unnatural repasts of the Christians, the epulce Thyesteat. 
 
 || Quo cuucta undique atrocia aut pudenda confluunt celebranturque. 
 
136 
 
 CHRISTIANS 
 
 homines per flagitiis invisos, men hateful for their crimes, and 
 deserving of the severest punishments.* Pliny, on the other 
 hand, does not allow himself to be hurried at once to a con¬ 
 clusion by his own prejudices or prevailing rumours. Before 
 lie decides lie considers it his duty to enter into a careful 
 investigation of the case. The result of his inquiry was as 
 favourable to the Christians as it could be in a judgment 
 based on purely moral grounds, which could not recognise the 
 general right of mankind to freedom of worship. But Pliny 
 shared in common with Tacitus the partial and contracted 
 views of the Roman statesman, which prevented him from 
 rising to that elevated position. He saw in a religion which 
 absorbed the whole man, and made them forgetful of every 
 other interest, nothing but a superstitio prava f — or, as we 
 might express it, by employing the term of modern phraseo¬ 
 logy, a gloomy pietism. Looking upon religion as a matter of 
 the state, he required unconditional submission to the laws of 
 the empire. With the character of the religion he had nothing 
 to do. Whatever that might be, still disobedience of the 
 imperial laws must be severely punished.J 
 
 The Christians must deny their faith, invoke the gods, offer 
 incense and pour out libations before the image of the empe¬ 
 ror, as well as those of the gods, and curse Christ. If they 
 refused so to do, and, after having been thrice called upon by 
 the governor to abjure their faith, still firmly avowed that they 
 were Christians, and would remain so, Pliny condemned them 
 to death as obstinate confessors of a religio illicita , who dared 
 publicly defy the laws of the empire. They who complied 
 with the governor’s requisition obtained pardon. 
 
 It is no wonder, when we consider the rapid and powerful 
 spread of Christianity in this country, if the faith of many who 
 had adopted the religion during the peaceful times of Nerva 
 was not of a nature to stand the fiery trial of persecution. 
 Sudden and extensive conversions of this kind are not apt to 
 prove the most thorough. So was it found in the present 
 case. Many who had embraced Christianity, or were on the 
 
 * Sontes et novissima exempla meritos. 
 
 f Not exitiabilis , because he was obliged to acknowledge that the 
 Christians were blameless in their lives. 
 
 J His words are, Neque enim dubitabam, qualecunque esset, quod 
 faterentur, pervicaciam certe et inflexibilem obstinationem debere puniri. 
 
UNDER TRAJAN. 
 
 137 
 
 point of embracing it, drew back at the threatening prospect 
 of death, and the consequences of this change were visible in 
 the increase of the numbers who participated in the public 
 religious ceremonies. 
 
 When he saw the effect of his measures, Pliny fell into the 
 mistake which statesmen, however, have often committed in 
 judging of matters which pertain to man’s profoundest and 
 most irrepressible feelings. The happy issue which for the 
 moment seemed to follow the course lie had adopted led him 
 to hope that by degrees the new sect might easily be suppressed 
 by a continuance of the same measures—if severity were pru¬ 
 dently blended with mildness ; if the obstinate were punished 
 to terrify the others, while such as were disposed to retract 
 were not driven to desperation by the refusal of pardon. 
 
 In submitting the report of these transactions to Trajan,* 
 lie requested the emperor’s advice particularly on the following 
 points: Whether a distinction ought to be made for difference 
 of age, or the young and tender were to be treated precisely 
 in the same way with the more mature ? f whether any time 
 might be allowed for repentance, or every person who had 
 once been a Christian was in any case to be punished ? 
 whether the Christians were liable to punishment simply as 
 such, or only on account of other offences ? It is plain, from 
 the judicial proceedings of Pliny above described, how, 
 according to his own view of the case, most of these questions 
 ought to be answered. The emperor approved of these pro¬ 
 ceedings; and, in deciding the questions submitted to his 
 authority, he went on the same principles. The Christians 
 were not regarded by him in the light of ordinary criminals, 
 for whom the governors in the provinces caused search to be 
 made by the police.They were not to be sought after ; but 
 when information was lodged against any, and they were 
 brought before the tribunal, they must be punished. In what 
 way the emperor does not explain; he even admits that on 
 this point no certain rule of general application could be 
 
 * L. X. ep. 97. This report of Pliny, which we have followed thus 
 far, bears the indubitable marks of genuineness on its face. No one but 
 the ltoman statesman could so write on the affair. 
 
 t This question was probably occasioned by the fact that many chil¬ 
 dren and youth (see above) were found among the Christians, 
 
 J The tlgrivaoxoif, Curiosi. 
 
138 
 
 CHRISTIANS UNDER TRAJAN. 
 
 given.* It appears, however, that the punishment was gene¬ 
 rally understood to be death. Moreover, Trajan accorded 
 pardon to such as manifested repentance. 
 
 Tertullian has attempted to show that this decision involved 
 a contradiction. If, he argued, the emperor considered the 
 Christians to be guilty, he ought to have ordered that they, 
 like other criminals, should be sought out and delivered over 
 to punishment; but if he regarded them as innocent, punish¬ 
 ment was in all cases unjust. Without doubt this is a correct 
 judgment, if the matter is looked at purely in its moral aspect. 
 But this was not the view of it taken by the emperor. He 
 stood in the position of a ’politician and a judge , governed by 
 the laws of the Roman state. He was of the opinion that 
 open contempt of the “ Roman ceremonies,” open resistance to 
 the laws of the empire, could not, in any case, be permitted to 
 go unpunished, even though no act m orally culpable were 
 connected with it.f The emperor, therefore, believed himself 
 obliged to proceed, whenever such unlawful conduct attracted 
 public attention ; but he wished, as far as possible, to ignore 
 it, in order that indidgencc might be exercised to the fullest 
 extent that was compatible with a due regard for the laws. 
 Agreeing with Pliny that Christianity was but a fanatical 
 delusion, he, too, probably imagined that if severity were 
 tempered with clemency, if too much notice were not taken 
 of the matter, and if open offences were neither suffered to 
 go unpunished nor prosecuted with rigour, the hot enthu¬ 
 siasm would soon cool down into indifference, and the cause 
 gradually expire of its own accord. And, in fact, if Christ¬ 
 ianity had been animated by no higher principle, the result 
 would have realized the emperor’s expectation. 
 
 But the rescript of Trajan produced an important change. 
 Christianity, which hitherto had tacitlg passed for an “ un¬ 
 lawful religion” (a religio illicita), was now condemned 
 as such by an express law.I It was the emperor’s design 
 
 * Neque enim in universum aliquid, quod quasi certam formani 
 liabeat, constitui potest. 
 
 f Like Pliny ; see his language cited on page 136, note 
 
 X According to a document preserved in the chronicle of Johannes 
 Malalas (1. XI. p. 273, ed Niebuhr), Tiberianus, Prefect of Palestina 
 prima, had informed the emperor that the Christians offered themselves 
 in crowds, and that nothing could be accomplished by the shedding of 
 blood. Moved by this information, the emperor issued a new edict, for- 
 
CHRISTIANS UNDER HADRIAN. 
 
 139 
 
 that the Christians should be subjected only to legal trials; 
 but an impulse had now been given to a movement to which 
 no limits could be fixed. With the political opposition to 
 Christianity there was associated religious hatred, which exer¬ 
 cises a far greater power over the passions of men. Open war 
 was now proclaimed by heathenism against the spiritual power 
 that threatened its destruction. The fanatical rage of the popu¬ 
 lace could now believe that it was supported by the law, and the 
 Christians were left exposed to their assaults. The first outbreak 
 of this kind was in the early years of Hadrian’s reign, who was 
 elevated to the imperial throne in 117. There were governors 
 who looked on the shedding of human blood with indifference, 
 and who were very ready .to sacrifice persecuted men to the 
 popular fury, either from a wish to gain for themselves the 
 good will of their provinces, or because they themselves shared 
 the fanaticism of the people. They might believe that they 
 could pursue this course with impunity, if not with the empe¬ 
 ror’s approbation, as they knew he was ardently attached to 
 the sacred customs (the sacra) of his country. When, in the 
 year 124, he made a tour through Greece, and had himself 
 initiated into all the Hellenic mysteries, the enemies of 
 Christianity thought it a favourable time to commence their 
 persecutions of the hated sect. The two learned Christians, 
 Quadrates and Aristides, were hence induced to present to the 
 emperor two apologies in behalf of their companions in the 
 faith. But a still greater influence than could possibly be 
 looked for from such apologetic writings was doubtless pro¬ 
 bidding the execution of the Christians. If we are disposed to doubt 
 the genuineness of the writing here communicated, it is not because of 
 the name “ Galileans,” which is applied to the Christians in no other 
 document of this period. There might have been some particular local 
 reason for the employment of this name. But when Tiberian says that 
 he had not become tired of destroying the Christians, this assuredly does 
 not agree very well with the above-cited rescript of Trajan, which 
 expressly forbids the Christians to he sought after. And the statement 
 that the Christians hastened to give themselves up hardly agrees with 
 the times. It was the more violent persecutions which first called forth 
 such au enthusiastic tendency. Neither can we regard the report of the 
 martyrdom of the bishop Ignatius of Antioch as a document belonging 
 to this period. In this narrative we do not recognise the emperor 
 Trajan, and therefore feel ourselves compelled to entertain doubts with 
 regard to everything reported in it; as, for example, that Christians 
 were, even in the reign of this emperor, thrown to wild beasts. 
 
140 
 
 CHRISTIANS 
 
 duced or an emperor who loved justice and social order by 
 the representations of Serrenius Granianus, proconsul of Asia 
 Minor, who complained of the disorderly attacks of the popu¬ 
 lace on the Christians. In consequence of this complaint, the 
 emperor issued a rescript to his successor in office, Minucius 
 Fundanus.* * * § " 
 
 Hadrian declared himself decidedly adverse to a practice 
 which laid the innocent open to be disturbed, and gave 
 opportunity to false accusers of extorting money by threats of 
 bringing before the tribunal such as were suspected of Chris¬ 
 tianity.! No accusations against Christians were to be re¬ 
 ceived, but such as were in the legal form; the Christians 
 were no longer to be arrested on mere popular clamour. 
 When legally brought to trial, and convicted of acting con¬ 
 trary to the laws,! they were to be punished according to their 
 deserts; but a severe punishment was also to be inflicted on 
 false accusers. Similar rescripts were sent by the emperor to 
 many other provinces.§ If by the words of this rescript, 
 “ acting contrary to the laws,” criminal conduct were meant, 
 or any infraction of civil order, without reference to religion, 
 
 * The genuineness of the rescript is proved, not only by its being 
 cited in an apology which the bishop Melito of Sardis addressed to the 
 second successor of this emperor (Euseb. 1. IV. c. 26), but still more 
 clearly by its contents; for it cannot be supposed that a Christian would 
 have been contented with saying so little to the advantage of his fellow- 
 believers. That Hadrian treated the Christians with gentleness appears 
 evident from the praise bestowed on him by some Christian, who pro¬ 
 bably wrote not long after this time, in the fifth book of the Pseudo 
 Sibyllines: ’ Af>yvoZxi>u.vos 2’ 5 \er\reu t’ ovio/xa 'xZvtov , iirrai xai 
 
 travcegnmi; arrio xai xavT« loiimi. 
 
 f I am of the opinion that Rufinus had before him the Latin original, 
 but that Eusebius, as usual, has not translated with sufficient accuracy. 
 Eusebius says (1. VI. C. 9), 7vos pih T'jl( iruxafatrais % 0 (iny'ia xaxtsvoyia.; vaocc- 
 trx&V- Rufinus, necalumniatoribuslatrocinanditribuaturoccasio. It is not 
 easy to see how it could ever occur to Rufinus to translate the general term, 
 xxxovoy'tx, into the special one, latrocinatio, when the context furnished 
 no occasion whatsoever for such a change; while, on the other hand, it 
 is easy to see how Eusebius might loosely employ a general term to ex¬ 
 press the special one of the original. Latrocinari is here synonymous 
 with concutere elsewhere. Tertullian’s words to the governor Scapula, 
 when the latter began to appear as a persecutor, may serve to explain 
 the sense : Parce provincial, quae, visa intentione tua, obnoxia facta est 
 concussionibus et militum et inimicorum suorum cujusque. 
 
 t Eos adversum leges quicquam agere. 
 
 § According to Melito of Sardis. See Euseb. 1. IV. c. 26. 
 
UNDER HADRIAN. 
 
 141 
 
 we should be obliged to consider it as a virtual edict of 
 toleration, whereby Christianity was received into the class of 
 “ lawful religions but had this been the emperor’s intention, 
 he would certainly have explained more distinctly what lie 
 meant by acts contrary to the laws. A particular decla¬ 
 ration, distinctly expressed, was evidently required, after the 
 rescript of Trajan, unless the very omission was intended 
 to operate to the disadvantage of the Christians.* Hadrian’s 
 rescript was properly directed only against the attacks of 
 the excited populace on such as were reported to be Christians ; 
 it only went to require a legal form of trial, which also 
 had been the decision of Trajan. At best, those who were 
 so disposed might turn the vague expressions of the rescript 
 to the advantage of the Christians, j It was not so much 
 his regard for Christianity, or the Christian people, as his 
 love of justice, that led the emperor to the adoption of 
 these measures; for Hadrian, as we have already remarked, 
 was a strict and zealous follower of the old Roman, and, it 
 may be added, the old Grecian religions, and looked with 
 disdain upon ail the rites of foreigners.j: This temper of 
 mind shines out through the remarkable letter which the 
 emperor wrote to the consul Servianus.§ Christianity in 
 itself forms, i t is true, no part of the subject of this letter; 
 it is only introduced by the v r ay. He is speaking simply of 
 the multifarious and restless activity of the Alexandrians, of 
 their character, as meddlers and busy-bodies, and of the 
 
 * If Melito of Sardis (1. c.) says afterwards to the Emperor Marcus 
 Aurelius that his ancestors had honoured Christianity together with 
 Other modes of worship, nr/>c; to.7; aXXai; Soriffxiicu; Iriftfitruv, very little can 
 be inferred from this ; for whoever claimed an emperor’s protection for 
 Christianity would naturally make the most of what had been done, or 
 seemed to have been done, for the Christians by his predecessors. 
 
 t Tertullian (ad Scapulam, c. 5) cites the examples of two magistrates 
 who took advantage of this rescript to procure the acquittal of Christians. 
 Vespronius Candidus dismissed a Christian who had been arraigned 
 before him, because it was contrary to good order to follow the clamour 
 of the multitude (quasi tumultuosum civibus satisfacere). Another, 
 Pudens, observing, from the information (elogium) with which a Chris¬ 
 tian was sent before him, that he had been seized with threals and in a 
 disorderly manner (concussione ejus intellecta), dismissed him. with the 
 remark that he could not, conformably with law, try men where there 
 was no certain legal accuser. 
 
 I Vid. Alius Spartian. vita Hadriana, c. 22. 
 
 § Flavii Vopisci Saturninus, c. S. 
 
142 
 
 CHRISTIANS UNDER HADRIAN. 
 
 peculiar religious syncretism which had sprung up in that centre 
 of the commerce of the world. A vein of sarcasm runs 
 through the whole. “ Those who worship Serapis,” says 
 Hadrian, “are Christians, and those who call themselves 
 bishops of Christ are worshippers of Serapis. There is no 
 ruler of a synagogue, no Samaritan, no presbyter of the 
 Christians, who is not an astrologer, a soothsayer. The pa¬ 
 triarch of the Jews himself, when he comes to Egypt, is forced 
 by one party to worship Serapis, by the other, Christ.* 1 heir 
 one God is none. Him, Christians, Jews, and all laces, 
 worship alike.”t He touches on Christianity merely as one 
 element in this mixture of religions. The picture floating- 
 before his mind is rather the general aspect of Alexandrian 
 life, or such exhibitions of it as might be presented, for ex¬ 
 ample, in the Gnostic sects, which there started into existence 
 as purely Christian communities. At the same time, it is 
 impossible not to perceive from this description how very tar 
 Hadrian was from respecting Christianity, or monotheistic 
 religion generally. 
 
 The account, therefore, appears incredible, which we have 
 from gElius Lampridius^ an historian belonging to the early 
 part of the fourth century, that the emperor, having an in¬ 
 tention to place Christ among the Roman gods, caused, in all 
 the cities, temples to be erected, without images, which were 
 called “ Hadrian’s temples ” (templa Hadriani) ;§ but that, 
 by the representations of the priests, he was prevented from 
 carrying out his design. This report, in all probability, had 
 the same source as so many other fictitious legends, the 
 desire of accounting for something, the true cause of which 
 was unknown; in the present case, from the desire of ex¬ 
 plaining the object of these temples, which had been left, 
 
 * Illi qui Serapim colunt, Christiani sunt, et devoti sunt Serapi, qui 
 se Christi episcopos dicunt. Nemo illic archisynagogus Judseorum, 
 nemo Samarites, nemo Christianorum presbyter non mathemaUcus non 
 liaruspex, non aliptes. Compare this with Juvenal’s description of the 
 braggart disposition, the boastful pretension to clear understanding of 
 all matters, ■which characterized the class whom he calls (jucculi. 
 
 Sa £ Unus illis Deus nullus est. Hunc Christiani, hunc Judsei, liunc 
 omnes venerantur et gentes. 
 
 J Alex. Sever, c. 24. 
 
 § ‘Alania, mentioned already in Aristid. orat. sacr. 1. 
 
CHRISTIANS UNDER ANTONINUS PIUS. 
 
 143 
 
 unfinished. United with this was the exaggerated opinion, 
 which a few misapprehended facts had given rise to, of the 
 emperor’s favourable disposition towards Christianity. On so 
 slender a foundation men thought themselves warranted to 
 impute to Hadrian a mode of thinking which was really 
 found in some of his successors,—as, for instance, in Alex¬ 
 ander Severus. 
 
 Under this government, however, so favourable to the 
 Christians in the Roman empire, they suffered a serious per¬ 
 secution in another quarter. A certain Barcochba,—who 
 pretended to be the Messiah, and under whom, as their leader, 
 the Jews once more revolted against the Romans,—endea¬ 
 voured to prevail on the Christians in Palestine to renounce 
 their faith, and join in the insurrection. Failing of his 
 purpose, he caused those that fell into his hands to be put to 
 death in the most cruel manner. 
 
 After the death of Hadrian, a.d. 13S, the rescripts issued 
 by him lost their authority. At the same time, under his suc¬ 
 cessor, Antoninus Pius, various public calamities, a famine, 
 an inundation of the Tiber, earthquakes in Asia Minor and in 
 the island of Rhodes, ravaging fires at Rome, Antioch, and 
 Carthage, rekindled the popular fury against the Christians to 
 greater violence than ever.* The mild and philanthropic 
 emperor could not approve of such unjust treatment of a 
 part of his subjects. In different rescripts, addressed to 
 Grecian States, he declared his disapprobation of these violent 
 proceedings. The indulgence shown by this emperor to the 
 Christians would appear to have been carried to a still greater 
 length if we may regard as genuine a rescript to be ascribed 
 in all probability to him, (not to his successor, Marcus Aure¬ 
 lius,) and addressed to the Assembly of Deputies in Asia 
 Minor (7rpog to koivov rrj c ’Acrt'ae). For in this he decides 
 expressly that the Christians were to be punished only when 
 convicted of political crimes; that, on the other hand, who¬ 
 ever accused them on the score of their religion should be 
 liable himself to prosecution. But the author of this rescript 
 speaks rather the language of a Christian than of a pagan 
 emperor, especially of one whose distinguishing praise was his 
 “ singular and scrupulous regard for the public ceremonies,” 
 (insignis erga caorimonias publicas cura et religio. “ Fcibretti 
 * Julii Capitolini vita Antonini Pii, c. 9. 
 
144 
 
 CHRISTIANS UNDER 
 
 marmor.”) Subsequent history, moreover, does not notice the 
 existence of such an edict.* 
 
 Under the reign of the next emperor, Marcus Aurelius the 
 philosopher, a.d. 161, many public calamities occurred, par¬ 
 ticularly a destructive pestilence, whose ravages gradually 
 extended through the whole Roman empire, from Ethiopia to 
 Gaul. Such events could not fail to produce on the feelings 
 of the multitude the usual impression to the prejudice of 
 “ the enemies of the gods.” It was at this time that the 
 magician Alexander of Abonoteichos stirred up the zeal of the 
 people for their gods, by promising them miraculous aid from 
 these higher powers, and exasperating their hatred against the 
 Christians. If, however, the persecutions in this reign had 
 only sprung from popular hatred, Aurelius, had he been 
 similarly disposed with his predecessors, might easily have 
 restrained these popular outbreaks by the influence of his 
 administration. But, instead of this, we now see the highest 
 authorities of the state leagued with the people in the cause of 
 oppression. In Asia Minor, the Christians were persecuted 
 with such extreme violence, that Melito, bishop of Sardis, who 
 appeared as their advocate before the emperor, said,f “ The 
 race of God’s worshippers in this country are persecuted as 
 they never were before, by new edicts; for the shameless 
 sycophants, greedy of others’ possessions,—being furnished by 
 these edicts with the desired opportunity,—plunder their 
 innocent victims day and night. And we object not to this, 
 if it is done by your command, since a just emperor will never 
 resolve on any unjust measure; and we will cheerfully bear 
 the honourable lot of such a death. Yet we would submit 
 this one petition, that you would inform yourself respecting 
 the people who are thus treated, and impartially decide 
 whether they deserve punishment and death, or deliverance 
 and peace. But if this resolution, and this new edict,—an 
 edict which ought not thus, without inquiry, to be issued even 
 against hostile barbarians,—comes not from yourself, we pray 
 you the more not to leave us exposed to such public robbery.” 
 
 * Eusebius, it is true, says that Melito of Sardis refers to this rescript 
 in his apology addressed to the succeeding emperor. But it is remark¬ 
 able that Melito, in the fragment introduced by Eusebius, fails to quote 
 this rescript, though it would have been far more favourable to the 
 Christians than the edict he actually cites. f Euseb. 1. IV. c. 26. 
 
MARCUS AURELIUS. 
 
 145 
 
 These words of Melito, in which he shows no less of Chris¬ 
 tian dignity than of Christian prudence, suggest many reflec¬ 
 tions. Even according to the edict of Trajan, Christians once 
 accused might he punished with death; and this edict had 
 never been officially revoked, though the clemency of the last 
 emperors may have operated to prevent its being rigorously 
 executed. But Melito says that a new and terrible edict had 
 been issued by the proconsul, inviting men to lodge informa¬ 
 tions against the Christians. This is the more extraordinary, 
 as it happened in the reign of an emperor who was by no 
 means favourable to the irregular practice of informers,* and 
 whose general policy was to diminish the existing penalties, f 
 Yet we can hardly suppose that the proconsul ventured to 
 issue a new edict on his own responsibility. Indeed Melito 
 himself seems not to have doubted that the edict proceeded 
 from the emperor. His expressions of doubt were necessary to 
 enable him, with due respect for the imperial authority, to 
 invite a repeal of the obnoxious edict. 
 
 Perhaps by glancing at the philosophical and religious system 
 of Marcus Aurelius, and considering it in its relation to Christi¬ 
 anity, we shall be better able to understand his views and conduct 
 with regard to it. The Stoical philosophy was not calculated 
 to make him friendly disposed towards the Christians. What 
 he esteemed as the highest attainment of human virtue was a 
 composure in the prospect of death, which proceeded from cool 
 reflection and conviction on scientific grounds—the resignation 
 of the sage, ready to surrender even personal existence to the 
 annihilation demanded by the iron law of the universal whole. 
 But the enthusiasm, springing out of a lively faith, and of a 
 well-assured hope grounded on that faith, with which the 
 Christians met death, was a thing altogether unintelligible to 
 him. A conviction which could not by arguments of reason 
 be communicated to all appeared to him as nothing but 
 fanaticism; and the way in which many Christians, really 
 under fanatical excitement, even courted death, tended to con¬ 
 firm him in these views. Like Pliny and Trajan, he, too, 
 could see nothing in disobedience to the laws of the empire on 
 matters of religion but blind obstinacy. 
 
 We will here transcribe the emperor’s own language re- 
 
 Julii Capitolini vita, c. 
 
 11 . 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 f L. c. c. 24. 
 
 Xi 
 
146 
 
 MARCUS AURELIUS— 
 
 spectina the Christians, as we find it in his Meditations.* 
 
 << Xhe soul,” he says, “ should be ready, when the time has 
 come for it to depart from the body, either to be extinguished, 
 to be dissolved, or else to subsist a while longer with the body. 
 But this readiness must proceed from its own judgment, and 
 not from mere obstinacy,! as is the case with the Christians; 
 it must also be the result of reflection and dignity, ^so that you 
 could even convince another without declamation. .Judging 
 the Christians from this point of view, though, in other respects, 
 he deemed them guilty of nothing immoral, and disbelieved, 
 perhaps, the popular rumours which had been so often re¬ 
 futed, he might still regard them as enthusiasts, dangerous to 
 social order. When, moreover, he observed how Christianity, 
 under the recent mild governments, had constantly been making 
 encroachments on all sides, he might perhaps feel himself 
 called upon to check its further progress by energetic mea- 
 sures. 
 
 Marcus Aurelius was something more than the mere Roman 
 statesman and the Stoic philosopher. He was also a man of 
 a childlike piety of disposition, which he owed, as he himself 
 tells us,J to the influence of a pious mother on his education. 
 And assuredly he had thus received something more substan¬ 
 tial and more valuable than anything that an abstract religion of 
 reason could have given him. To the question (often proposed 
 to the Christians), Where hast thou seen the gods, or whence 
 hast thou learnt their existence , that you so reverence them, 
 he answers-—“In the first place, 1 1 1 ey make themselves visible 
 even to the eye of sense ;” where we may suppose he had in 
 mind either those visible deities, the heavenly bodies, or, what 
 is more probable, appearances of the gods in visions and 
 dreams. “ But again, I have never seen my own soul, and 
 yet I treat it with reverence. So, too, I come to know the 
 existence of the gods, because I constantly experience the 
 effects of their power, and hence I honour them.’ § And cer¬ 
 tainly there was truth lying at the ground of those experiences, 
 although Marcus Aurelius knew not the “unknown God” 
 from Whom they came, and to Whom they were designed to 
 lead him, as the God of revelation. Thus he says, for ex- 
 
 * L. XI. c. 3. .... 
 
 •j* Mi Ka.ru, cruouru^tv, cLr^uyujows, pcrvicacia. obstinatio. 
 
 I Uu^u rr;$ to Szocrifii;. § L. XII. C. 28. 
 
HIS VIEWS OF RELIGION. 
 
 147 
 
 ample, on a retrospect of the divine providence which had 
 guided him from childhood, “ So far as it depended on the 
 gods, I might, by the influences which came from them, and 
 by their aids and suggestions, have attained long since to a life 
 in harmony with nature. If, however, I still fall short of this 
 mark, it is my own fault, and it must be ascribed to my neg¬ 
 ligence in following the admonitions, I might almost say the 
 express instructions, of the gods.” * We find traces in his 
 writings of honest self-examination. He was very far, we also 
 see, from confounding himself with the ideal of the sage, and 
 a sense of his own deficiency disposed him to forbearance to¬ 
 wards others. It is true, this kind of self-knowledge, which, 
 in the case of others, led the way to Christianity, could not 
 conduct him thither, because in interpreting these internal ex¬ 
 periences he had recourse to his Stoical doctrine of fatalism, 
 which made the bad, no less than the good, necessary to the 
 realization of the harmony of the universe. And in regard 
 to this, also, he found comfort in a stoical resignation; for, 
 says he, “ When thou seest others sin, reflect that thou thyself 
 sinnest in various ways, and art such as they are. And though 
 thou abstainest from many sinful actions, yet thou hast within 
 the inclination to commit them, though thou mayest be re¬ 
 strained from indulging it by fear, by vanity, or some sucli 
 motive.” t He belonged to the class of those, who, like the 
 Platonists above mentioned, were seeking for a middle way 
 between superstition and infidelity. He desired a cheerful 
 piety, without superstition. He believed honestly, as must be 
 evident from the passages above quoted, in the reality of the 
 gods, and of their manifestations. With other devout pagans 
 of his time, he was convinced that the gods, by sending dreams 
 to those that honoured them, revealed the knowledge of the 
 remedies for bodily disease, and imagined that he had himself 
 had, in several cases of sickness,| experience of such assistance. 
 When the pestilence, already mentioned, was raging in Italy, 
 he looked upon it as a warning to the nation to restore the 
 ancient worship in its minutest particulars. He summoned 
 priests from all quarters to Rome, and even put off his expe¬ 
 dition against the Marcomannians, for the purpose of cele¬ 
 brating the religious solemnities by which, he hoped, the evil 
 
 * L. I. c. 17. f L. XI. c. 18. 1 L. I. c. \7. 
 
 l 2 
 
148 
 
 MARCO'S AURELIUS— 
 
 might be averted.* * * § The multitude of victims which, in the 
 preparation for that war, he caused to be sacrificed, provoked 
 ridicule even from many of the pagans.']' 
 
 It is then easily explicable that an emperor, with the love 
 of justice and the gentleness which are set forth in the actions 
 and writings of Marcus Aurelius, did nevertheless, from poli¬ 
 tical and religious motives, become a persecutor of the Chris¬ 
 tians. We have a law of his which condemns to banishment 
 to some island those “ that do anything whereby men’s excit¬ 
 able minds are alarmed by a superstitious fear of the d-eity.” j 
 That this law was pointed at the Christians cannot, indeed, 
 be asserted; inasmuch as there were, in this reign, an unu¬ 
 sual number of magicians and popular impostors, whose 
 practices might have called forth such a law. lint it may 
 easily be conceived that Marcus Aurelius, like Celsus, who 
 wrote at that time against the Christians, would not scruple to 
 place the latter in the same class with the former. This 
 prince was inclined to pardon such as confessed their crimes 
 and showed signs of penitence, even in cases where he could 
 have punished without being severe.§ But the Christians 
 could not be induced to acknowledge they had done wrong; 
 they rather persisted in that which was forbidden by the laws. 
 It was, perhaps, for this reason that the emperor ordered that 
 every means should be employed to drive them to a renunci¬ 
 ation of their faith ; and that the punishment of death should 
 be inflicted only in th» last extremity, when they could not be 
 forced to submit. But an ill-advised humanity, aiming to 
 spare the effusion of human blood, might easily become the 
 occasion of much cruelty. 
 
 If now we put together all that is most peculiar in the cha¬ 
 racter of the persecutions of this time, we find two things 
 particularly worthy of notice: first, that search was made for 
 the Christians, by express command ; although, indeed, such 
 search was often anticipated by the popular fury. AVe have 
 seen above that, according to Trajan’s rescript, the Christians 
 
 * Jul. Capitol, c. 13 et 21. 
 
 f Hence the epigram, oi \lvxo)(iois Mdgxy ™ K aitra^i, civ <rv vixvcry.s, 
 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XXV. c. 4. 
 
 1 Relegandum ad insulam qui aliquid fecerit, quo leves hominum 
 animi superstitione numinis terreantur, in the Pandects. 
 
 § See the example in Capitolinas, cap. 13. 
 
HIS PERSECUTING EDICTS. 
 
 149 
 
 had been expressly distinguished from those criminals for 
 whom it was the duty of the provincial authorities to make 
 search. Now, on the contrary, diligent search was made for 
 them ; and to save their lives they were often obliged to con¬ 
 ceal themselves, as appears both from several accounts of the 
 persecutions, and from the assertions of Celsus.* In the 
 second place, the practice hitherto had been this: token the 
 Christians were accused, if, after repeated summons, they 
 persisted in refusing to deny their faith, then they were exe¬ 
 cuted without torture. Now it was attempted to force them 
 to recant by the use of torture. An edict, which agrees in 
 all respects with this practice, is still extant, under the name 
 of the Emperor Aurelian and as in style and matter it 
 bears every mark of authenticity, may, doubtless, be the edict 
 against the Christians, originally addressed by this emperor 
 (Aurelius) to the presidents of the provinces. It runs thus:— 
 “ We have heard that the laws are violated by those who in 
 our times call themselves Christians. Let them be arrested; 
 and unless they offer to the gods, let them be punished with 
 divers tortures ; yet so that justice may be mingled with seve¬ 
 rity, and that the punishment may cease as soon as the end is 
 gained of extirpating the crime.” The last clause is altoge¬ 
 ther in the character of Marcus Aurelius. The governors 
 were to keep steadily in view the one object, which was to put 
 down Christianity, as being at variance with the religion of the 
 state, and to bring men back to the worship of the Roman 
 gods. The magistrates were charged, indeed, not to act on 
 the promptings of blind passion ; but such a caution was 
 plainly insufficient to restrain them from cruel and arbitrary 
 measures. | 
 
 * Celsus, speaking of the Christians, that not without reason they do 
 everything in concealment : "An 'iiuBov/juioL tL \xnorr,^lynv cclroi; Vixm 
 <rou Savurov. L. I. C. 1. "Hra tptuytvTi; xai xguvro/jjivoi n uXiaxoplvoi xai 
 
 a.To\XvfjjSvoi. L. VIII. C. 41. 'T fjjuv 3t xiv vXxvarai n; in Aav3avav, aWa 
 £ a* r i i r a i S ccyarou L. VIII. c.69. 
 
 t A name which, as Pagi and Ruinart justly conjectured, probably 
 stands for Aurelius. 
 
 J The edict, which is preserved in the actis Symphoriani, of which 
 we shall hereafter have to speak, runs in the original as follows:— 
 “ Aurelianus Imperator omnibus administratoribus suis atque rectoribns. 
 Comperimus ab his, qui se temporibus nostris Christianos dicunt, legum 
 praecepta violari. Hos comprehensos, nisi diis nostris sacrificaverint, 
 diversis punite cruciatibus, quatenus habeat districtio prolata justitiam et 
 
150 
 
 MARCUS AURELIUS— 
 
 We proceed now, under the guidance of authentic records, 
 to take a nearer view of the progress of these persecutions in 
 the provinces, and of the behaviour of the Christians under 
 them. 
 
 Accordingly we have to notice in the first place the troubles 
 of the church of Smyrna in 167, in which the aged and vene¬ 
 rable Bishop Poly carp, a disciple of the Apostle John, met 
 his death. Of this persecution we have a detailed account in 
 a circular letter addressed by the church of Smyrna to other 
 Christian churches.* The proconsul of Asia Minor, at that 
 time, does not appear to have been personally hostile to the 
 Christians; but the heathen populace, with whom the Jewish 
 rabble had united themselves, raged violently against them. 
 The proconsul yielded to the popular violence and to the law. 
 By threats, by a display of the instruments of torture and of 
 the savage animals to which they were to be thrown, did he 
 
 in resecandis criminibus ultio terminata jam finem.” Certainly no 
 unprejudiced person can suppose this edict to be spurious, as there was 
 no imaginable end to be gained by such a forgery, as it breathes the 
 very spirit of pagan statesmen, and is expressed in the official language 
 of the times. If ft belonged to the age of Aurelian, whose name it bears, 
 the martyr in whose history it stands must have perished in that reign. 
 But it is "difficult to believe that the persecution under this emperor pro¬ 
 ceeded so far as to the effusion of Christian blood (see below). The 
 manner, too, in which the Christians are spoken of, as a sect by nc 
 means old, suits the time of M. Aurelius better than that of Aurelian, 
 when the Christian sect had so long openly existed. The charge brought 
 against the Christians, that by the exercise of their religion they violated 
 the laws of the empire, would hardly have been made in the time of 
 Aurelian, since Christianity had already at that time been for fifteen 
 years admitted into the class of “ religiones licit®.” No doubt, there¬ 
 fore, Aurelius, instead of Aurelianus, is the proper reading, such names 
 being frequently confounded with each other. But Lucius Aurelius 
 Commodus is out of the question, since he was well disposed towards 
 the Christians. It can therefore only be M. Aurelius Antoninus. What 
 Gieseler, in the second vol. of his Church History (2 te Aufiage, S. 134), 
 has advanced against this hypothesis, is not sufficient, to say the least, 
 to invalidate the above reasoning. The language of the concluding 
 clause is, it is true, somewhat singular for the age of the Antonines; yet 
 I can find nothing in it which is absolutely foreign to the Latinity of 
 that age ; and it is by no means clear to me that the Emperor M. Aure¬ 
 lius would not have employed the words recloies (rector provinci®, see 
 Tacit Annal. 1. II. c. 4), "and aclministratores to designate the various 
 governors. 
 
 * By portions in Euseb. 1. IV. c. 15. More complete in the collec¬ 
 tions of the Patres Apostolici. 
 
MARTYRDOM OF POLYCARP. 
 
 151 
 
 endeavour to move the Christians to deny their faith; if they 
 remained steadfast in the Lord, he condemned them to death. 
 In one respect lie certainly evinced too ready a compliance 
 with the rage and cruelty of the people. He chose the most 
 painful and ignominious deaths; such as throwing the Chris¬ 
 tians to wild beasts or burning them to death at the stake 
 —punishments which he was not compelled to resort to by the 
 laws. But on the other hand it must be allowed that, as the 
 laws denounced death in general terms as the penalty for per¬ 
 severance in Christianity, it would to a Roman mind appear 
 right to assume that such as were not Roman citizens ought to 
 suffer a more painful death than those who were.* 
 
 Under the severest tortures, which excited pity even from 
 the pagan bystanders, the Christians displayed great tranquil¬ 
 lity and composure. “They made it evident to us all, says 
 the church, “ that in the midst of those sufferings they were 
 absent from the body; or rather, that the Lord stood by them 
 and walked in the midst of them; and, staying themselves on 
 the grace of Christ, they despised the torments of the world.” 
 But even here the difference was shown betwixt the momen¬ 
 tary intoxication of enthusiasm, which, though it courts danger 
 with a rash self-confidence, turns to cowardice in the prospect 
 of death, and that calm, deliberate submission to God’s will 
 which abides His call. A certain Phrygian, Quintus by name, 
 of a nation peculiarly inclined to fanatical extravagance, 
 went, of his own accord, in company with many others, whom 
 by his discourses he had worked up to the same pitch of 
 enthusiastic zeal, before the proconsul’s tribunal, and declared 
 himself a Christian. But when the magistrate pressed him, 
 and wrought upon his fears by showing him the wild beasts, 
 he yielded, swore by the genius of the emperor, and sacrificed. 
 After stating this fact, the church adds, “ We therefore praise 
 not those who voluntarily surrender themselves, for we are not 
 
 * To many of the crimes charged on the Christians by blind popular 
 rumours, such capital punishments were assigned. Qui sacra impia noc- 
 turnave, ut quem obcantarent, fecerint facieudave curaverint, aut cruci 
 suffiguntur. aut bestiis objiciuntur. Qui hominem immolaverint, sive 
 ejus sanguine litaverint, fanum, templumvc polluerint, bestiis objiciuntur, 
 vel si honestiores sint, capite puniuntur. Magiccc artis conscios sumrno 
 supplicio affici placuit, id est, bestiis objici ant cruci suftigi, ipsi autem 
 magi vivi exuruutur. Julius Paulus in sententiis receptis. 
 
152 
 
 MARCUS AURELIUS' 
 
 so taught in the gospel.” * Very different was the behaviour 
 of the venerable Bishop Poly carp, now ninety years of a ire. 
 When he heard the shouts of the people demanding his death, 
 it was his intention, at first, to remain quietly in the city, and 
 await the issue which God might ordain for him ; but the 
 prayers of the church prevailed on him to take refuge in a 
 neighbouring villa. Here he spent the time, with a few 
 friends, occupied, as was his custom, day and night, in praying 
 for all the churches throughout the world. When search was 
 made for him, he retired to another villa. But he had scarcely 
 reached it before the officers of the proconsul appeared, to 
 whom his place of refuge had been betrayed by some who, 
 unworthy of the honour, enjoyed his confidence. ” The bishop 
 himself had again fled ; but they found two slaves, and from 
 one, whom they put to the torture, they extracted the secret 
 of the bishop’s hiding-place. As they were approaching, 
 Polycarp, who was in the highest story of the dwelling, might 
 have escaped by the flat roof to another house—a mode of 
 flight made easy by the peculiar style of oriental building; but 
 he said, “ The will of the Lord be done.” Coming down to 
 the officers of justice, he ordered whatever they chose to eat 
 and drink to be placed before them, requesting only that they 
 would indulge him with one hour for quiet prayer. But the 
 fullness of his heart carried him through two hours, so that the 
 pagans themselves were touched by his devotion. 
 
 The time being now come for their departure, they conveyed 
 him to the city on an ass, where they were met by the chief officer 
 of the police (elprirupxpQ), coming, with his father, from the 
 town. He took up Polycarp into his chariot, and, addressing 
 him kindly, asked “ what harm there could be in saying ‘ the 
 emperor , our Lord ,’ and in sacrificing.” At first Polycarp 
 was silent; but as they went on to urge him, he said mildly, 
 ii I will not do as you advise me.” W hen they perceived they 
 could not persuade him, they grew angry. With opprobrious 
 language they thrust him out of the carriage so violently as 
 to injure a bone of one of his legs. Without looking round, 
 he proceeded on his way, cheerful and composed, as though 
 nothing had happened. When he appeared before the pro- 
 
 * A to. roZro ovx STaivotj/jAv rov; 'zrco'novra.s ic&urot;, (where, if it is not bad 
 Greek, the reading should be vtovTc.\ xuqy\ outcj; liibaffxn to il/ctyyOAO'i . 
 
MARTYRDOM OF POLYCARP. 
 
 153 
 
 consul, the latter urged him to have respect at least to his own 
 old age, to swear by the genius of the emperor, and give proof 
 of his penitence by joining in the shouts of the people, 
 “ Away with the godless ! ” Poly carp looked with a firm eye at 
 the assembled crowd ; then with a sigh, and his eyes uplifted 
 to heaven, he said, pointing to them with his finger, “ Away 
 with the godless ! ” But when the proconsul urged him far¬ 
 ther, “ Swear, curse Christ, and I release thee“ Eighty-and- 
 six years,*’ he replied, “ have I served Him, and he has done 
 me nothing but good—and how could I curse him, my Lord 
 and Saviour?” When the proconsul continued to press him, 
 “ Well,” said Polycarp, “ if you wish to know what I am, I 
 tell you frankly I am a Christian. Would you know what the 
 doctrine of Christianity is, appoint an hour and hear me.” 
 The proconsul here, showing how far he was from sharing in the 
 fanatical spirit of the people, and how gladly he would have 
 saved the old man, if he could have appeased the multitude, 
 said, “ Do but persuade the people.” Polycarp replied, “ To 
 you I felt myself bound to give account, for our religion 
 teaches us to pay due honour to the powers ordained of God, so 
 far as it can be done without prejudice to our salvation. But 
 those I hold to be unworthy of my defending myself before 
 them.” The proconsul, having once more, but to no purpose, 
 threatened him with the wild beasts and the stake, caused 
 the herald to proclaim in the circus, “ Polycarp has confessed 
 himself a Christian ! ” These words contained, at the same 
 time, the sentence of death. The heathen populace, with an 
 infuriate shout, replied, “ This is the teacher of atheism, the 
 father of the Christians, the enemy of our gods, who teaches 
 so many to turn from the worship of the gods and not to sacri¬ 
 fice.” The proconsul having yielded to the demands of the 
 people, that Polycarp should die at the stake, Jews and pagans 
 hastened to bring wood from the workshops and the baths. 
 As they were about to fasten him with nails to the stake of 
 the pile, he said, “ Leave me thus ; He who has strengthened 
 me to encounter the flames, will also enable me to stand firm 
 at the stake.” Before the fire was lighted, he prayed—“ O ! 
 Lord, Almighty God, Father of thy beloved Son Jesus Christ, 
 through whom we have received knowledge of thyself; God of 
 the angels, and of the whole creation ; of the human race, and 
 of the saints that live in thy presence ; I praise thee that thou 
 
154 
 
 MARCUS AURELIUS— 
 
 hast judged me worthy, this day and this hour, to take part 
 among the number of thy Witnesses, in the cup of thy Christ.” 
 
 What appeared to this church the greatest example in the 
 death of Polycarp was not the mere martyrdom in itself, but 
 the Christian manner in which it was endured. They expressed 
 their conviction that all had been so ordered as that he should 
 exhibit all the essential characters of evangelical martyrdom 
 “ for,” they write, “he waited to be delivered up” (did not, 
 i. e., press forward uncalled to the martyr’s death), “ imitating, 
 in this respect, our Lord, and leaving an example for us to fol¬ 
 low ; so that we should not look to that alone which may con¬ 
 duce to our own salvation, but also to that which may be ser¬ 
 viceable to our neighbour. For this is the nature of true and 
 genuine charity—to seek not merely our own salvation, but the 
 salvation of all the brethren.” \ 
 
 The death of their pious pastor contributed also to the tem¬ 
 poral advantage of his flock. The rage of fanaticism, after 
 having obtained this victim, cooled down ; and the proconsul, 
 who was no personal enemy of the Christians, suspended 
 all further search, and was willing to be ignorant that another 
 Christian existed. 
 
 The second persecution under this emperor’s reign, of 
 which we have any account, fell upon the churches of Lyons 
 (Lugdunum) and of Vienne, in the year 177, and the docu¬ 
 ment from which we derive our more exact knowledge of its 
 details is the letter addressed by these churches to those 
 of Asia Minor.! The fanatical excitement of the populace in 
 these cities equalled if it did not exceed that at Smyrna; but 
 in addition to this, the superior magistrates seem to have been 
 infected with the phrensy of the multitude. The outbursts of 
 popular fury had gradually increased in violence ; the Chris¬ 
 tians were insulted and abused whenever they appeared 
 abroad, and were plundered in their own houses. At length 
 the best known were seized and dragged before the magis¬ 
 trates. Having avowed themselves Christians, they were 
 
 * ^y^z^ov yao sravra to. vroocLyovTce Vva ri[JAV o zvoiog cevcoQiv \irihii\n 
 
 to zuto. to zlccyyzXiov fjea^TVoiov. 
 
 Uioitutjiviv ycco, *tvcc otccokooSyi, ug za) o zuoiog, ivot fJA(jt.r t Tct) zee) kfAUS ocutou 
 
 yZVtV/JjsQcC, (/.Yl fZOVOV (TZOOTOVVTZi TO ZaUTOVZ, CiXXa. XOA TO ZOLTfr TOVg 'T'iKU.S) 
 
 cLya.'Tvs yao a.\ri§ovs zee) fii(Zcc!a,g \tt)v (jw (aovov zolutov SiXuv c&'kXcc 
 
 zee) vra-VTOLg Tovg a.ln\<povg* # 
 
 $ Euseb. 1. V. c. 1. 
 
PERSECUTION AT LYONS. 
 
 155 
 
 thrown into prison ; for, since the governor or legate was 
 absent, they could not be brought at once to trial. The 
 legate, on his arrival, immediately began the examination with 
 torture, not only in the hope of forcing the Christians to ab¬ 
 jure, but also of wringing from them a confession of the truth 
 respecting those absurd stories of unnatural crimes of which 
 they were so generally accused. A young man, Vettius 
 Epagathus, though a Christian belonging to the higher ranks 
 (the tTLirrifxoic, or personis insignibus), on learning that such 
 charges were laid against his brethren, felt constrained to pre¬ 
 sent himself to the legate’s tribunal as a witness of their inno¬ 
 cence. He demanded a hearing, in order to show that nothing 
 of a criminal nature was transacted in the Christian assemblies. 
 The legate, however, refused to hear him, only asking him if 
 he, too, were a Christian. When he distinctly admitted that 
 he was, he was imprisoned with the rest, as the Christians’ ad¬ 
 vocate ( Trapa^XriTOQ ^ptor/cu'din). Although by an ancient 
 law * the testimony of slaves against their masters was inad¬ 
 missible in criminal causes—a law,I it must be owned, often 
 violated in the arbitrary proceedings of the times of the em¬ 
 pire £—yet fanaticism refused to be bound by the regular 
 forms of justice. The testimony of slaves was welcome, if it 
 would serve to establish the incredible charges laid to the 
 account of the Christians. The torture must be applied to 
 pagan slaves, and terror extorted from them whatever they 
 were required to say,—that those abominations, of which blind 
 rumour accused the Christians, were practised by their masters. 
 Men now believed they were justified in indulging in every 
 species and form of cruelty. Neither kindred, age, nor sex 
 was spared. The firmness and serenity of many Christians, 
 under torture the most refined, showed, to use the words of the 
 churches in their report of these proceedings, “ how they were 
 bedewed and strengthened by the spring of living water that 
 flows from the heart of Christ; that nothing can be dreadful 
 
 * Vetere senatusconsulto quacstio in caput Domini prohibebatur. Tacit. 
 Annal. 1. II. c. 30. 
 
 f Even Pliny seems to have paid no attention to this law in conducting 
 his investigations against the Christians. 
 
 t When Tiberius first indulged in this practice, he was in the habit, 
 before he put the qumstio per tormenta, of giving the slaves their free¬ 
 dom, so as to observe the law in appearance,—callidus et novi juris 
 repertor, as Tacitus calls him for this reason. 
 
156 
 
 MARCUS AURELIUS— 
 
 where the love of the Father dwells; nothing painful where 
 the glory of Christ prevails.” Pothinus, the bishop of the 
 church, a man of ninety years, infirm with old age and sickness, 
 but inspired with the vigour of youth by his zeal to bear wit¬ 
 ness of the. truth, was dragged before the tribunal. The 
 legate asked him, “ Who is the God of the Christians? ” He 
 answered, “ You shall come to the knowledge of Him when 
 you show yourself worthy of it.” All who stood around 
 the tribunal vied with each other in venting their rage on the 
 venerable old man. Scarcely breathing, he was cast into a 
 dungeon, where he died within two days. Even those who 
 yielded and recanted gained nothing by their weakness. They 
 were still cast into prison, not, indeed, as Christians, but as 
 guilty of those crimes which were laid to the charge of the 
 Christians; and, to justify this proceeding, advantage Avas 
 doubtless taken of the fact, that several, under the pains of 
 torture, had acknowledged guilt. Numbers perished in the 
 gloomy prisons, where many means were devised to add to 
 their terrors, and even hunger and thirst employed to aggra¬ 
 vate the sufferings of these imprisoned confessors. On the 
 other hand, to use the language of the church, “ many, who 
 had endured so severe torments that it seemed impossible for 
 them to be restored by the most careful assiduities, lived on in 
 their dungeons, destitute indeed of human aid, but so strength¬ 
 ened and refreshed in soul and body by the Lord, that they 
 were able to encourage and comfort the rest. It happened, 
 ‘ by the grace of God, who wills not the death of the sinner, but 
 has joy in his repentance,’ that the exhortations of these heroes 
 of the faith had a powerful effect on many who had been in¬ 
 duced to deny their faith, and the church, their mother, had the 
 great joy of receiving once more alive from the prison those 
 whom she had cast forth as dead.” 
 
 As the number of the prisoners was considerable, and in¬ 
 cluded several Roman citizens, who could not be tried in the 
 province, the legate thought it best, with regard to them all, 
 to send a report to Rome, and wait till the emperor’s answer 
 should have determined their fate. The imperial rescript 
 decided that all who recanted should be set free, but the rest 
 beheaded. In this case it is evident that Marcus Aurelius had 
 the same views as Trajan, and was far from giving credit to 
 the current charges laid against the Christians. 
 
PERSECUTION AT LYONS. 
 
 157 
 
 The legate immediately summoned before his tribunal all 
 who, in the previous examinations, had been brought to abjure 
 their faith, and were awaiting their fate in prison. Nothing 
 else was expected than that they would stand by their formal 
 recantation, and thus obtain deliverance. Great, therefore, 
 were the rage and consternation of the multitude at seeing 
 many of them now stand forth and maintain a steadfast con¬ 
 fession, thus passing sentence of death on themselves. Those 
 alone, in the language of the church, remained without, 
 who possessed none of the marks of faith, no anticipation of 
 the Lord’s bridal garment, no idea of the fear of God, but had 
 already, by their conduct, dishonoured the way of truth. Such 
 of the prisoners as possessed the rights of Roman citizenship 
 were ordered to be executed with the sword ; although, to 
 gratify the fury of the populace, the legate, in violation of the 
 laws, caused one, Attalus, to undergo a variety of tortures, and 
 at last to be thrown to the wild beasts; and it was only when 
 he had survived all these that the sword of mercy was allowed 
 to put an end to his sufferings. The rest were thrown to wild 
 beasts. Two of these,—Ponticus, a youth of fifteen, and a girl, 
 Blandina,—whom they endeavoured first of all to intimidate by 
 making them witness the sufferings of their companions, and 
 then to shake from their constancy by exhausting upon them 
 all the arts of torture, excited universal astonishment at what 
 God’s power could effect in such weak and tender vessels. 
 Although the intoxication of enthusiasm, suppressing the 
 natural feelings, is capable of producing the most extraordi¬ 
 nary phenomena, yet the enthusiasm of these martyrs was 
 distinguished by those true marks, a sobriety and a humility 
 arising from a sense of weakness, and by love and gentleness. 
 They declined the honours which the Christians were eager to 
 bestow on them. Even when they were led back to prison, 
 after having repeatedly undergone the most exquisite tortures, 
 still they were by no means confident of victory, foreseeing well 
 the struggle between the flesh and the spirit. They earnestly 
 rebuked all such as dignified them with the name of “ martyrs.” 
 “ This name,” said they, “ properly belongs only to the true 
 and faithful Witness,* the First Born of the dead, the Prince 
 of life; or, at least, only to those martyrs whose testimony 
 Christ has sealed by their constancy to the end. We are but 
 * Magrvg, Revel. 1 , 5. 
 
MARCUS AURELIUS— 
 
 158 
 
 poor, humble confessors.” With tears they besought the 
 brethren fervently to pray for them, that they might attain to 
 the glorious consummation. They received with the kindest 
 love such as had fallen from the faith who were made their 
 companionsjjjn prison, praying, with many tears, that, the Lord 
 would once more restore these dead ones to life. Even their 
 persecutors were never mentioned by them with resentment, but 
 they prayed that God would forgive those who had subjected 
 them to such cruel sufferings. They left as a legacy to their 
 brethren, not. strife and war, but joy and peace, harmony and 
 love. 
 
 To the mutilation even and burning of the dead bodies the 
 rage of the populace finally turned. The ashes, with all that 
 the fire had left, were cast into the neighbouring Rhone, that 
 not a remnant of these enemies of the gods might pollute the 
 earth. Neither by money, nor by entreaties, could the Chris¬ 
 tians succeed in obtaining possession of those remains so dear 
 to them, for the purpose of interment. The blinded pagans 
 imagined they could, in this way, confound the hopes of the 
 Christians. r ‘ We will now see,” said they, “ whether they 
 will arise, and whether God can help them, and deliver them 
 out of our hands.” Yet so great was the number of the Chris¬ 
 tians, that even here men at last became weary of bloodshed, 
 and a branch of the church survived this terrible persecution. 
 
 In places where there were but few Christians they could 
 more easily remain concealed, and the popular rage was not 
 excited against them. In such districts the governors did not 
 think it necessary to set on foot any inquiries, except in parti¬ 
 cular cases, when individuals had become notorious as enemies 
 of the State religion. A case of this sort occurred about this 
 time, in the town of Autun,* at no great distance from Lyons. 
 No one in the place was thinking of a persecution against the 
 Christians, who were few in numbers and little known, when an 
 individual first drew upon himself the public attention. I he 
 noisy multitude were celebrating, with great display, a festival 
 in honour of Cybele, whose worship, derived probably from Asia 
 Minor by the same channel that Christianity afterwards arrived 
 by. was held here in the highest repute. An image of Cybele, 
 in one of the usual sacred cars, was carried round in procession, 
 accompanied by a vast crowd of the people. All fell upon 
 * Augustodunum, iEdua. 
 
PERSECUTION AT LYONS. 
 
 Ic9 
 
 their knees but Symphorian, a young man of a respectable 
 family and a Christian, who happened to be standing by, and 
 thought that he could not conscientiously unite in the cere¬ 
 mony ; and, most probably, when called upon to explain his 
 conduct, took occasion to speak of the vanity of idol worship. 
 As a violator of the public ceremony and a disturber of the 
 peace, he was immediately seized and conducted before the 
 governor, Heraclius, a man of consular dignity. The governor 
 demanded of him, “ Are you a Christian ? As far as I can see, 
 you have escaped our notice because so few of the followers of 
 this sect happen to be among us.” “ I am a Christian,” he 
 replied ; “ I worship the true God, who reigns in heaven ; but 
 your idol I cannot worship; nay, if permitted, I will dash it 
 in pieces, on my own responsibility.” Upon this, the governor 
 declared him guilty of a double crime,—against the religion , 
 and against the laws of the State ; and as Symphorian could 
 be moved neither by threats nor by promises to abandon his 
 faith, he was sentenced to be beheaded. As they led him to 
 the execution, his mother cried out to him, “My son, my son, 
 keep the living God in thy heart. Be steadfast. There is 
 nothing fearful in that death which so surely conducts thee to 
 life. Let thy heart be above, my son; look up to him who 
 dwells in heaven. To-day thy life is not taken from thee, but 
 raised to a better. By a blessed exchange, my son, thou art 
 this day passing to the life of heaven.” * 
 
 If we may credit a report which since the beginning of the 
 third century has been widely diffused among the Christians, 
 the Emperor Marcus Aurelius was induced, by a wonderful 
 event, to change the course of policy which he had previously 
 adopted towards the Christians. During the war with the 
 Marcommani and Quadi, in 174, he, with his army, was thrown 
 into a situation of extreme peril. The burning sun shone full 
 in the faces of his soldiers, who were suffering under the 
 torture of intolerable thirst; and under these unfavourable 
 
 The narrative of the martyrdom of Symphorian is, in all essential 
 particulars, so simple, is so perfectly free from the common exaggerations 
 of later times, is so conformable to the circumstances of the period, that 
 it is impossible to doubt that we have here a more than ordinarily 
 genuine foundation, although, perhaps, in places, the account is rheto¬ 
 rically overwrought. But all the particulars go to show that the event 
 took place very near to the time of the persecution at Lyons and Vienne. 
 
160 
 
 MARCUS AURELIUS— 
 
 circumstances tliev were threatened with an attack of the 
 enemy. In this extremity, the twelfth legion, composed 
 entirely of Christians, fell upon their knees, J heir prayer 
 was followed by a shower of rain, which allayed the thirst of 
 the Roman soldiers, and by a storm, which frightened the 
 barbarians. The Roman army obtained the victory, and the 
 emperor, in commemoration of the event, gave those Christian 
 soldiers the name of the “ thundering legion.” He ceased to 
 persecute the Christians; and though he did not go so far as 
 to receive Christianity into the class of “lawful religions,” 
 vet he published an edict which threatened with severe penal¬ 
 ties such as accused the Christians merely on the score of their 
 religion.* * * § 
 
 In this account truth and falsehood are mixed together. In 
 the first place, it cannot be true that the emperor was led to 
 put a stop to the persecution of the Christians by any event of 
 this date; for the bloody persecution at Lyons did not take 
 place till three years later. Again, the “ thundering legion,” 
 or “ the twelfth of the Roman legions,” had borne this name 
 from the time of the Emperor Augustus, f The fundamental 
 fact that the Roman army was, about that time, rescued from 
 imminent danger by some such remarkable providence, is 
 undeniable. The heathen themselves acknowledged it to be 
 the work of Heaven ; they ascribed it, however, not to the 
 God of the Christians, nor to their prayers, but to their own 
 gods, to their Jupiter, and to the prayers of the emperor, or of 
 the pagan army ; to say nothing of the blind superstition 
 which attributed the storm to the incantations of an Egyptian 
 magician.I The emperor, it is said, stretched forth his hands, 
 in supplication to Jupiter, with the words, “ This hand, which 
 has never yet shed human blood, I raise to thee.” I here 
 were paintings, in which he was represented in the attitude of 
 prayer, and the army catching the rain in their helmets. § The 
 
 * Tertullian. Apologet. c. 5; ad Scapulam. c. 4. Enseb. 1. V. c. 5. 
 
 f Dio Cassius, in his catalogue of the legions existing from the time 
 of this emperor, mentions (1. LV. c. 23), Ti (>T ? ar^ov) to t» 
 
 Kara-aSo*;*, ™ As late as the fifth century we find mention 
 
 in the Notitia dignitatum imperii Romani, sect. 27, of the prseiectura 
 lemonis duodecimae fulminete Melitena;, under the dux Armenia;. The 
 province of Melitene was on the borders of Armenia, towards Cappa¬ 
 docia $ Dio Cass. 1. LXXI. s. 8. 
 
 § Themist. orat. 15: T '!( h pcariXiKuraTti ruv 
 
THE LEGIO FULM1NEA. 
 
 161 . 
 
 emperor has expressed his own conviction of the matter upon 
 a medal, where Jupiter is exhibited launching his bolts on the 
 barbarians, who lie stretched upon the ground ;* and perhaps, 
 also, at the close of the first Book of his Monologues, where, 
 among the things for which he was indebted, not to himself, 
 but to the gods and his good fortune, he mentions what had 
 happened to him among the Quadi. j It is certain, there¬ 
 fore, that this remarkable event can have had no influence in 
 changing the disposition of the emperor towards the Christians. 
 But it by no means follows that the latter are to be charged 
 with having made up a false story. The matter easily admits 
 of explanation. It is not impossible that, in the thundering 
 legion, there were Christians—perhaps a large number of them ; 
 for it is certain that it was only a party among the Christians 
 that condemned the military profession. And although it was 
 difficult for Christians, at all times, and especially under an 
 emperor so unfavourably disposed, while serving with the 
 Roman army, to avoid participating in the rites of paganism, 
 yet, under particular circumstances, they might succeed in so 
 doing. The Christian soldiers, then, in this emergency, 
 resorted to prayer, as they were ever wont to do on like occa¬ 
 sions. The deliverance which ensued they regarded as an 
 answer to their prayers; and, on their return home, they 
 mentioned it to their brethren in the faith. These, naturally, 
 would not fail to remind the heathen how greatly indebted 
 they were to the people whom they so violently persecuted. 
 Claudius Apollinaris, Bishop of Hierapolis in Phrygia, might 
 have heard the story, soon after the event itself, from the 
 Christian soldiers belonging to this legion, which had returned 
 to its winter quarters in Cappadocia; and by him it was intro¬ 
 duced, either into an apology addressed to this emperor, or in 
 some other apologetical work.J Tertullian, it is true, appeals 
 
 * In Eekhel numism. III. 64. 
 
 f T a Iv K oualoi; ru ygxvoua.. Some suppose, it is true, that M. 
 
 Aurelius here simply designates the place where this was written. But 
 as a notice of this sort occurs nowhere else except in the third book, 
 these words might rather refer, perhaps, to events in certain places, the 
 remembrance of which was associated with the preceding meditations. 
 
 t Where Eusebius represents Apollinaris as affirming that the legion 
 received the name fulminea from this event, the suspicion naturally 
 arises that he read too hastily; since it is difficult to suppose that a 
 contemporary, who lived in the vicinity of the winter quarters of that 
 
 ■VOL. I. M 
 
162 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS 
 
 to a letter of the emperor, addressed probably to the Roman 
 Senate, in which he owns that the deliverance was due to the 
 Christian soldiers. But this letter, if it contained in so many 
 words an avowal of this kind, must, as is evident from oui 
 previous remarks, have been either spurious or interpo¬ 
 lated. It may be a question, however, whether the letter 
 contained any'distinct affirmation of this sort: the emperor 
 mav simply have spoken of soldtors, and lertullian explained 
 it according' to his own belief, of Christian soldieis. lie 
 expresses himself, at any rate, with some degree of hesitation* 
 That the Christians might possibly sometimes give to the 
 religious declarations of the heathens an interpretation con¬ 
 formable to the principles of their own faith, is shown by 
 another account of this event, which we find in Tertullian. It 
 is in these words: “ Marcus Aurelius, in the German expedi¬ 
 tion also, obtained, through the prayers offered to God by 
 Christian soldiers, showers of rain during that time of thirst. 
 When has not the land been delivered from drought by our 
 supplications and fasts ? f In such cases the very people 
 gave our God the glory, for it was the God of gods, who alone 
 is mighty, that they cried to under the name of Jupiter.” 
 
 It Is the less necessary to search after a cause for the cessa¬ 
 tion of the persecution, since it not only belongs to the nature 
 of the passion that rage will finally expend itself, but it is also 
 true, in the present case, that, within only a few years of the 
 last bloody persecution in France, the government passed into 
 different hands, and thus brought about an entire change of 
 measures. The contemptible Commodus, who succeeded to 
 his father a.d. 180 , was overruled to minister to the interests 
 of Christianity by securing to it a season of respite and tran¬ 
 quillity, after the long sufferings of its professors under M. 
 Aurelius. For it cannot be supposed that a man like Corn- 
 modus was capable of appreciating, in the slightest degiee, its 
 
 legion, could have committed so gross a mistake. Perhaps Apollmaris 
 merely said the emperor might now rightly call the legion by the name 
 fulminea, or something of that sort. There is no difficulty in supposing 
 that some such expression lay at the foundation of Eusebimf words, 1. V. 
 c. 5. ’Ec Utlvov Av li ivx»t to Ta^alo^ov onvoinKolcco Xiyiiova oUu'ao no 
 yiyovori too; to? (oanXieo; irgoirnyo£ia.v. 
 
 * Christianorum forte militum. . . 
 
 j Days of prayer and fasting were commonly united by the Christians. 
 
UNDER COMMODUS. 
 
 103 
 
 worth. A certain Marcia,* Mho lived with him m an illicit 
 intercourse, M'as, for some unknown reason, friendly to the 
 Christians, and influenced the brutal emperor in their favour. 
 It is not impossible that .the indulgent law which we recently 
 cited from Tertullian proceeded from this sovereign (who was 
 disposed to befriend the Christians) and has been wrongly 
 transferred to the last years of his predecessor. Under the 
 reign of this emperor, events do occur in which it has been 
 supposed that the working of such a law may be traced. 
 Still it may be a question whether it be not a hasty con¬ 
 clusion to infer from such events the existence of the law, 
 whether the inference did not arise out of a misconception! 
 At all events, it seems quite improbable that accusations 
 against Christians would continue to be received-—that Chris¬ 
 tians, when accused, v r ould Ire condemned to death under the 
 edict of Trajan—when their accusers were at the same time 
 capitally punished ! An example will, perhaps, set the whole, 
 matter in its true light, j Apollonius, a Roman senator, v r as 
 accused before the city praefect of being a Christian. His 
 accuser was immediately sentenced to death, and executed. 
 But Apollonius, who boldly confessed his faith before the 
 senate, was also, by a decree of that body, beheaded. Now 
 Jerome, who, in this case, would hardly be misled by a wronc; 
 interpretation of Eusebius, but spoke rather from a correct 
 
 ^ \o’TO(>u t rtti Ss uvm •xoXXa te nvio ruy ’X/Jitmavuv (T'Xov&tLtru.i aai <xoWa 
 au.ov; ivno'yi'rrixevcci, an vraou. ta. K •xu.v outfCcyAvfj. Dio CaSS ]. 
 LXXII. c. 4. 
 
 t We must allow that this matter gives rise to many doubts. We 
 must assent to the remark of Gieseler, so far as this, viz. that, of course, 
 either accusations proceeding from slaves against their masters were not 
 teceived at all, or, if they were received, the person whom they con¬ 
 cerned might be punished as a criminal. Now Jerome (De v. i. c. 4^) 
 does not, indeed, say that the slave was executed. The account in 
 Eusebius (1. V. c. 21) might be one, then, mixed up with false reports, 
 lelating. as it did, to an event in the West. He may have been deceived 
 by Gieek acta martyris, in which the false story of the condemnation of 
 this slave had been fabricated out of the rumour of the law above men¬ 
 tioned against accusers of Christians. On the other side, the following 
 considerations should be duly weighed. The narrative of Jerome, in 
 conformity with its purpose, may have been incomplete, and therefore 
 may furnish no evidence against the truth of what Eusebius has added. 
 ” e U e uot °' | bg e( l to presuppose that the judges, especially where the 
 question related to the death of a slave, acted in perfect consistency with 
 justice. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER 
 
 knowledge of the facts, says that the accuser was a slave of 
 Apollonfus. And the ignominious character of his punish¬ 
 ment, death by breaking the limbs, (the suffringi crura,) con¬ 
 firms this account. The accuser, then, as it would seem, was 
 punished, not as the accuser of a Christian, but as a servant 
 faithless to his master. From too broad a conclusion drawn from 
 cases of this description, it is quite possible the above tradition 
 with respect to a favourable law may have derived its origin. 
 
 Since this emperor, then, had probably made no change, by 
 an express edict, in the situation of the Christians; since the 
 old laws had never been distinctly repealed, but everything 
 depended on the altered tone of the emperor himself; it 
 follows, that the Christians must have been placed m very 
 precarious circumstances. They were still as much exposed as 
 they ever had been to be persecuted by individual governors, 
 inimically disposed. Thus Arrius Montanus, proconsul ot 
 Asia Minor, began to wreak his vengeance on them; but a 
 vast multitude of Christians immediately presented themselves 
 before the tribunal, with a view to intimidate the proconsul by 
 their numbers,—a proceeding which was not unlikely to be 
 attended with the desired effect, under a government where the 
 persecutions proceeded from the will of individuals, and not 
 from the imperial throne. And, in fact, the proconsul was 
 intimidated, and, contenting himself with condemning a few 
 to death, he said to the rest,* “ Miserable beings, if you want 
 to die, you have precipices or ropes.”t Irenaeus, who wrote 
 under the reign of this emperor, remarks that Christians were 
 to be found in the imperial court, that they partook of all the 
 privileges of the Roman empire, and were suffered to go 
 unmolested, by land or by sea, wherever they chose.+ Yet 
 
 * Tertullian. ad Scapulam, c. 5: ' V. IsiXol, si 9-sXsn aveSwirxsni, xgvu- 
 
 you? b fipoy'ou? , ■. . 
 
 + In the second century three proconsuls are known under this name: 
 the Antoninus Pius, who was afterwards emperor ; his grandfather; and 
 a third under the Emperor Commodus. All. Lamprid. vita Commodi, c. 
 6 et 7. We naturally think of the one who was Tertull an s contem¬ 
 porary ; for if he meant another, he would probably have given some 
 intimation that he was speaking of an older man. This proconsul, as 
 we learn from Lampridius, stood in high estimation with the people. 
 Perhaps it was his eagerness to retain their goodwill that led him to 
 persecute the Christians. 
 
 I L. IV. c. Hceres. c. 30 : Hi, qui in regali aula sunt fadeles. 
 
COMMODUS—SEPTIMIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 165 
 
 tlie same Irenseus observes, that the church in all ages, not 
 excepting his own, sends many martyrs to their heavenly 
 Father.* The apparent contradiction is at once removed by 
 the previous remarks. 
 
 The political disorders which followed the assassination 
 of Commodus, in a.d. 192 ; the civil wars betwixt Pescen- 
 nius Niger from the East, Claudius Albinus from Gaul, and 
 Septimius Severus in Rome, who finally obtained the sove¬ 
 reignty, like all other public calamities, could not but be 
 attended with injurious effects on the situation of the Chris¬ 
 tians. Clement of Alexandria, who wrote soon after the 
 death of Commodus, says, “ Many martyrs are daily burned, 
 crucified, or beheaded before our eyes.’ j When Septimius 
 Severus obtained the victory, and found himself in secure 
 possession of the sovereignty, he manifested, it is true, a 
 favourable disposition towards the Christians ; and Tertullian’s 
 account may doubtless be correct, that he was induced to this 
 by an incident of a personal nature, having been restored 
 to health by the skill of Proculus,! a Christian slave, whom 
 
 * L. IV. c. 33, v. 9. f L. II. stromat. p. 414. 
 
 t Thus we are informed by Tertullian, in his work addressed to 
 Scapula, c. 4, Proculum Christianum, qui Torpacion cognominabatur, 
 Euodije procuratorem, qui eum per oleum aliquando curaverat, requisivit 
 et in palatio suo habuit usque ad mortem ejus. In respect to the right 
 understanding of these words, it may be disputed whether the term 
 Euodise (which moreover is written in different ways) is a proper name 
 or not, and how the word procurator should be taken. It might mean 
 “ an overseer of the causewaysyet probably it is a slave or freed 
 man from the mansion of some Roman lady, who held under her the 
 ofiice of steward or bailiff. Through his connection with this noble lady, 
 Septimius Severus, before he became emperor, may have come in contact 
 with this man, and the latter may have offered his services to beal him 
 in some sickness. 1 he oil, in this case, has some connection probably 
 with the charisma of healing, according to Mark 6, 13, and James 5, 
 14. The inadvertent and (where he had no particular interest in doubt¬ 
 ing) the credulous Tertullian, is, indeed, not a very weighty witness; but 
 the circumstantiality with which he speaks of the matter, as one gene¬ 
 rally known, might point to something which had a true foundation. 
 He appeals to the fact that Caracalla, the son of Severus, was very well 
 acquainted with this Proculus ; that Caracalla himself was lacte Chris- 
 tiauo educatus, whether we are to understand by this that he had 
 a Christian for his nurse, or that he had spent his childhood amidst 
 Christians who were in the service of the imperial household. With 
 this may be compared what 2Elius Lampridius says in the Life of this 
 emperor (c. 1), namely, that the playmates of Caracalla, when he was 
 
166 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER 
 
 he received into his family, and constantly retained by his 
 side. He knew that men and women of the highest rank 
 in Rome, senators and their wives, were Christians ; and pro¬ 
 tected them from the popular indignation.* But as the old 
 laws still remained in force, violent persecutions might break 
 out in particular provinces ; and we know, from several of the 
 works of Tertullian which were composed in these times, that 
 one actually took place in proconsular Africa. The festivities 
 in honour of the emperor, where the absence of the Christians 
 excited public attention, might probably have given occasion 
 to it. 
 
 If in this reign the law against “close associations” was 
 renewed,! this circumstance must have operated, as under the 
 government of Trajan, to the disadvantage of those whose 
 union had not yet been declared to be a “ collegium licitum.” 
 Finally, in the year 202, Severus passed a law which forbade, 
 under severe penalties, conversion either to Judaism or to 
 Christianity4 That he held it necessary to enact such a pro¬ 
 hibition, which was in truth involved in the earlier laws, is of 
 itself a proof that these laws had fallen into neglect. It may 
 be a question too, how the matter of this law of Severus is to 
 be interpreted. If the emperor forbade the change to Chris¬ 
 tianity, (Christianos fieri,) merely in the sense in which he 
 forbade the change to Judaism, (Judaeos fieri,) it would seem 
 to be implied that he held it necessary only to check the 
 farther inroads, as well of Christianity as of Judaism, but had 
 ‘no wish to disturb those who were already Christians in the 
 
 seven years old, had, contrary to his fatner’s will, led him to embrace 
 Judaism (ob Judaicam religionem gravius verberatus), and in con¬ 
 nection with the last should be kept in mind what we quoted recently 
 from Celsus, that Christianity was propagated among the children. But 
 although Septimius Severus may have had Christians among the members 
 of his household, yet it by no means follows that he was himself favour¬ 
 able either to Christianity or its followers. 
 
 * Tertullian says of Septimius Severus (in the passage just referred 
 to), Clarissimas feminas et‘ clarissimos viros sciens hujus sectm esse, non 
 modo non lsesit, verum et testimonio exornavit et populo furenti in nos 
 palatn restitit. 
 
 f As may be inferred from the fact that he issued a rescript directing 
 that those “ qui illicitum collegium coisse dicantur,” should be accused 
 before the Prsefectus urbi. Vid. Digest. 1. XII. tit. XII. 1. s. 14. 
 
 x XElii Spartiani Severus, e. 17: Judreos fieri sub gravi pcena vetuit. 
 Item etiam de Christianis sanxit. 
 
SEPTIMIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 167 
 
 practice of their religion ;—and such a tacit recognition of 
 Christianity must certainly be regarded as an advantage gained 
 by the Christian party in the empire. But, as may be inferred 
 from what we have already said, the situation of the Christians 
 in this case was quite different from that of the Jews. In the 
 case of Judaism it was naturally assumed in the prohibition, 
 Judaeos fieri, that the Jews , as a nation , were to remain 
 unmolested in their right to the free exercise of their own 
 religion; and by making it a criminal act, Judaeos fieri, this 
 law pronounced the criminality of all other Roman citizens 
 who had already passed over to Judaism. But in the case of 
 the Christians no such distinction as this could be made. So 
 far, therefore, as it concerned them, the law would pronounce 
 all to be criminal, without exception , who had ever become 
 Christians. We ought, however, to have the words of the law 
 before us, in order to be able to decide with any certainty as 
 to its true meaning. 
 
 At all events, so explicit a declaration, coming from an 
 emperor who had hitherto shown himself personally favourable 
 to the Christians, could only operate to their disadvantage. 
 In many districts the persecution was so fierce, that it was 
 looked upon as a sign of the speedy appearance of the Anti¬ 
 christ.* In Egypt and in proconsular Africa this seems to 
 have been particularly the case. The persecution, however, 
 was certainly not general. 
 
 At a somewhat earlier period the threat of lodging an 
 information with the magistrates had frequently been em¬ 
 ployed to extort money from the Christians ; f and many had 
 bargained at a certain price, with informers, or money-loving 
 and corrupt officers, for the privilege of not being disturbed 
 in the exercise of their religion. J But as, throughout this 
 reign, the laws against the Christians were neither strictly nor 
 universally enforced, such proceedings became more common, 
 doubtless, than in earlier persecutions. Whole communities 
 
 * Euseb. 1. VI. c. 7. 
 
 t I he concutere Christianos.—Quid dicit ille concussor? Da mihi 
 pecuniarn, certe ne eum tradat. Tertullian. de fuga in persecutione, 
 -c. 12. 
 
 J Tu pacisceris cum delatore vel milite vel furunculo aliquo preside, 
 sub tunica et sinu, quod aiunt, ut fuvtivo, quem coram toto mundo 
 Christus emit, iruo et manumisit, says the high-hearted Tertullian, as 
 the opponent of such transactions. 1. c. 
 
168 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER SEPTIMIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 now purchased freedom from disturbance in this way.* Many 
 bishops thought that by this course they best consulted the 
 interest of their churches, f But sucli measures would 
 naturally be opposed by such as cherished a fanatical longing 
 after martyrdom, while many also condemned it on the score 
 of prudence, and of zeal for the dignity and purity of the 
 Christian name. On the score of prudence, because it was 
 only possible to satisfy a few, while it would excite the more 
 the rage and cupidity of others ; }—on the score of interest 
 for the honour and purity of the Christian name, because by 
 this course Christians became associated with those who by 
 bribes purchased immunity for unlawful pursuits or nefarious 
 crimes. § When the advocates of this course pleaded in their 
 defence that men ought to give to Caesar the things that are 
 Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s, Tertullian 
 replied thus: “ He who would in this way extort money 
 
 from me is plainly not demanding anything for the emperor, 
 but is rather acting against him, since for the sake of gold he 
 lets the Christians go free, who by the laws are liable to pu- 
 nishment.”|| It appears to him remarkable, that, at a period 
 when so many new regulations were devising for the improve¬ 
 ment of the revenue, when so many new taxes were intro¬ 
 duced, it had never occurred to any one to propose the free 
 profession of Christianity at a certain rate fixed by law. By 
 this means—so great, as all were aware, was the number of 
 Christians—the public revenue might be greatly increased, f 
 
 * Parum est, si unus aut alius ita eruitur. Massaliter total ecclesi® 
 tributum sibi irrogaverunt. Tertullian. 1. c. c. 13. . 
 
 t To this Tertullian sarcastically alludes :—Ut regno suo securi trui 
 
 possent, sub obtentu pacem procurandi.^ . .... , 
 
 j Neque enim statim et a populo eris tutus, si officia militaria rede- 
 
 meris, says Tertullian, 1. c. c. 14. , . . 
 
 S Tertullian says, with reference to this (1. c. c. 13), biescio dolendum 
 an erubescendum sit, cum in matricibus beneficiariorum et cunosorum 
 inter tabernarios et lanios et fures balnearum et aleones et lenoues 
 Christiani quoque vectigales continentur. _ 
 
 II Miles me vel delator vel inimicus concutit, nihil C®sari exigens; 
 imo contra faciens, cum Christianum, legibus humanis reum, mercede 
 
 dimittit. Tertullian. 1. c. c. 12. . . 
 
 « Tanta quotidie serario augendo prospiciuntur remedia censuum, 
 vectiffalium, collationum, stipendiorum, nec unquam usque adhuc ex 
 Christianis tale aliquid prospectum est, sub aliquam redemptionem 
 capitis et sect® redigendis, cum tant® multitudinis nemmi ignot® fructus 
 ingens meti posset L.. c. c. 12. 
 
THE CHRISTIANS UNDER CAEACALLA. 
 
 1C9 
 
 The situation of the Christians continued to be the same 
 under the government of the insane Caracalla, although the 
 cruel emperor did not himself set on foot any new persecu¬ 
 tions. Everything depended on the individual temper of the 
 different governors. Many of them were active in devising 
 expedients for saving, without open violation of the laws, the 
 lives of those Christians who were arraigned before them. * 
 Others Avere furious, either from personal hatred, or from a 
 Avish to flatter the people. Others, again, Avere contented to 
 proceed according to the letter of the laAV enacted by Trajan. 
 Tertullian, in a letter to one of the persecutors of the Chris¬ 
 tians, the proconsul Scapula, remarks, that if he would use the 
 sword against the Christians onhj according to the original 
 laics, and as was still done by the governor of Mauritania, 
 and by the governor of Leon, in Spain, he might discharge 
 every laAvful duty of his office Avithout resorting to cruelty. 
 Trajan’s Irav then was not always the governing rale. 
 
 We will iioav adduce a feAv characteristic instances Avhich 
 will serve to illustrate the character of the persecutions of this 
 time, f In the year 200, some Christians belonging to the 
 city of Scillita, in Nuraidia, were brought before the tribunal 
 of the proconsul Saturninus. lie said to them, “ You may 
 obtain pardon of our emperors (Severas and Caracalla) if 
 you Avill return in good earnest to our gods.” One of them, 
 Speratus, replied, “ We have injured no man; we have 
 
 * Tertullian relates that a prases even went so far as to furnish the 
 Christians Avith the means of so answering the questions of the judge as 
 to ensure their discharge. Another at once released a Christian who 
 had been brought before him, declaring it contrary to the laws to yield 
 to the demands of his fellow citizens, — i. e. if Are take tumultuosum as 
 neuter; or perhaps the correct reading may be, he discharged the indi¬ 
 vidual as a factious person, who must settle the matter Avith his fellow- 
 citizens ; viz., do what would satisfy them,—dimisit quasi tumultuosum, 
 civibus suis satisfacere (ut—satisfaceret). A third subjected a Christian 
 to slight torture, and, as he yielded at once, dismissed him without 
 requiring anything more of him, at the same time expressing to the assist¬ 
 ant judges his regret at having had anything to do Avith such business. 
 Another tore in pieces the elogium or writ, when a Christian, seized by 
 violence, Avas brought before him, declaring that secundum mandatum,— 
 the law of Trajan,—he Avould listen to no complaint in the absence of 
 the accusers. See Tertullian. ad Scapulam, c. 4. 
 
 f The documents from which we take them are in Ruinart. Acta 
 Martyrum, the Acta Martyrum Scillitanorum, and Acta Perpetuse et 
 Felicitatis. 
 
170 
 
 MARTYRDOMS 
 
 spoken ill of none; for all the evil you have brought upon 
 us we have only thanked you. We give praise for all his dis¬ 
 pensations to our true Lord and King.” The proconsul re¬ 
 plied, “ We also are pious; we swear by the genius of the 
 emperor our lord, and we pray for his welfare, as you also 
 must do.” On this Speratus observed, “ I know of no 
 o-enius of the ruler of this earth ; but I serve my God in 
 heaven, whom no man hath seen nor can see. I have defrauded 
 no man of his due. I have never failed to pay the custom 
 upon all which I purchase, for I acknowledge the emperor as 
 my ruler • but I can worship none but my Lord, the King of 
 kin^s, the Lord of all.” Upon this the proconsul ordered the 
 Christians to be conducted back to their prison until the next 
 day. When they appeared again, he addressed them once 
 more, and granted them a space of three days for deliberation. 
 But Speratus answered in the name of the rest, “ I am a 
 Christian, and we all are Christians ; we will not depart from 
 our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Do with us as you please. 
 Having thus confessed themselves Christians, and refused to 
 pay due honour to the emperor, they were condemned to be 
 beheaded. On receiving their sentence they thanked God, 
 and, as they came to the place of execution, they fell on their 
 knees and again gave thanks. 
 
 Some few years afterwards three young men, Kevocatus, 
 Saturnius, and Secundulus, and two young women, Perpetua 
 and Felicitas, were arrested at Carthage, all of them being 
 still catechumens. The story of their imprisonment and sut- 
 ferings presents many a beautiful trait of the power of Chris- 
 tian faith, combined with Christian tenderness of feeling. 
 Perpetua, who was two-and-twenty years of age, who was a 
 mother with an infant at the breast, had to struggle not only 
 with the feelings of human nature, which instinctively shrinks 
 from death, and with the weakness of her sex ; a harder con¬ 
 flict still remained for her with those pure human feelings, 
 Grounded in the best and most sacred of ties, and which Chris¬ 
 tianity recognises in all their strength, and even lends to them 
 oreater depth and tenderness, but at the same time demands to 
 be sacrificed to the One paramount obligation. The mother of 
 Perpetua was a Christian, but her aged father was still a pagan. 
 The life of his daughter was dear to him, but still more than 
 her loss he dreaded also the disgrace which her dying as a Cluis- 
 
IN AFRICA. 
 
 171 
 
 tian would, he thought, bring upon him. When she was first 
 brought to the tribunal, her aged father came and urged her to 
 recant. Pointing to a vessel that lay on the ground, she said, 
 “ Can I call this vessel anything else than what it really is ? ” 
 “ No.” “ Neither then can I say but that I am a Christian.” 
 In the mean time she was baptized; for the clergy usually 
 found no difficulty in purchasing, at least, from the overseers 
 of the prisons, free access to the Christians in confinement, for 
 the purpose of administering to them the offices of religion ; 
 although, in the present case, a bribe was perhaps unnecessary, 
 since the prisoners were not as yet placed under a strict 
 guard. Perpetua said, “ The Spirit prompted me at my 
 baptism to pray for nothing but patience.” After a few days 
 they were thrown into a dungeon. “ I was tempted,” she 
 said, “ for I had never been in such darkness before. 0 what 
 a dreadful day ! The excessive heat occasioned by the mul¬ 
 titude of prisoners, the rough treatment we experienced from 
 the soldiers, and finally anxiety for my child, made me mi¬ 
 serable.” The deacons who brought to them from the com¬ 
 munion the consecrated elements in the dungeon, purchased for 
 the Christian prisoners a better apartment, where they were 
 separated from other criminals. Perpetua now took the child 
 to herself in the dungeon, and placed it at her breast; she 
 recommended it to her mother; she comforted her friends, 
 and felt cheered herself by the possession of her babe. “ The 
 dungeon,” said she, “ became a palace to me.” 
 
 The report reached her aged father that they were about to 
 be tried. He hastened to her and said, “ My daughter, pity my 
 grey hairs, pity thy father if thou still thinkest me worthy to 
 be called thy father. If I have brought thee up to the bloom 
 of thy age, if I have preferred thee above all thy brothers, ex¬ 
 pose me not to such shame among men. Consider thy mother, 
 consider thy aunt, consider thy son, who, if thou diest, cannot 
 long survive. Lay aside that lofty spirit, lest thou plunge us 
 all into ruin. For if thou diest thus, not one of us will ever 
 be able to speak with the boldness of a free man.” Whilst 
 saying this, he kissed her hands, threw himself at her feet, 
 with tears in his eyes, calling her not his daughter but his 
 mistress. “ My lather’s grey hairs,” said the daughter, 
 “ pained me, when I thought that of all my family lie alone 
 would not rejoice in my sufferings.” To his entreaties she 
 
172 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER CARACALLA— 
 
 replied, “ Wheat will happen when I come before the tribunal 
 depends on the will of God ; for know, we stand not in our 
 own strength, but by the power of God.” When the decisive 
 hour arrived, her aged father also appeared, to try, for the 
 last time, to overcome his daughter’s resolution. The go¬ 
 vernor said to Perpetua, “ Take pity on thy father’s grey 
 hairs, pity thy helpless child. Offer sacrifice for the welfare 
 of the emperor.” She answered,“ I hat I cannot do. Art 
 thou a Christian ?” “ Yes,” she replied, “ I am a Christian.” 
 
 Her fate was now decided. They were all condemned to be 
 thrown to wild beasts at the approaching festival on the anni¬ 
 versary of the young Geta’s accession,’*' and so to furnish a 
 cruel sport for the people and soldiers. They returned to the 
 dungeon rejoicing. Tut Perpetua did not suppress the tender 
 feelings of the mother. Her first act was to send a request to 
 her aged father that she might have the child, that she might 
 suckle it; but he refused to part with it. As to Felicitas, on 
 her return to the dungeon she was seized with the pains of 
 labour. The jailer said to her, “ If thy present sufferings are 
 so great, what wilt thou do when thou art thrown to the wild 
 beasts ? This thou didst not consider when thou refusedst to 
 sacrifice.” She answered, “ What I now suffer, I suffer myself; 
 but then there will be another who will suffer for me, because 
 I also will suffer for him.” A custom which had come down 
 from the times of human sacrifices, under the bloody Baal- 
 worship of the Carthaginians, still prevailed of dressing in 
 priestly garments the criminals who were condemned to be 
 thrown to the wild beasts. When therefore it was in the present 
 case proposed to clothe the men as priests of Saturn, and the 
 women as priestesses of Ceres, their free and Christian spirit 
 nobly protested against such a proceeding. “We have come 
 here,” said they, “ of our own will, that our freedom may not 
 be taken from us. We have given up our lives, that we may 
 not be forced to such abominations.” The pagans themselves 
 acknowledged the justice of their demand, and yielded. 
 
 When the martyrs, having been torn by the wild beasts, 
 were about to receive the merciful stroke which was to end 
 their sufferings, they exchanged for the last time the mutual 
 kiss of Christian love. 
 
 Quieter times for the Christian Church began with tfie 
 * Natales Cscsaris. 
 
IIELIOGABALUS—ALEXANDER SEVERUS. 
 
 173 
 
 reign of the ignoble Heliogabalus, a.d. 219. We have 
 already explained the singular phenomenon that the worst 
 princes invariably proved the most favourably disposed towards 
 the Christians. Heliogabalus was not a follower of the old 
 religion of the state, but devoted to a foreign superstition, 
 the Syrian worship of the Sun, with which the most abomi¬ 
 nable excesses w'ere combined. This worship the emperor 
 washed to make predominant throughout the Roman empire, 
 and to blend all other religions into it. To this end he tole¬ 
 rated Christianity, as he did every other foreign form of wor¬ 
 ship. Had he ever proceeded to put his plan into execution 
 he would assuredly have met with the most determined oppo¬ 
 sition from the Christians.* 
 
 Very different motives were they that gave rise to the favour¬ 
 able disposition of the noble-minded and devout Alexander 
 Severus (from the year 222 to 235), an emperor wholly unlike 
 his abandoned predecessor. This excellent prince possessed 
 a ready sympathy with all that is good, and a reverence for 
 everything connected with religion. In religion he was a 
 friend of the principle of eclecticism, whose grounds and origin 
 we have already explained. But he was distinguished from 
 others of the same principles, by giving a place in his system 
 to Christianity. In Christ he recognised a Divine Being 
 equal with the other gods; and in the Lararium (the domes¬ 
 tic chapel), where he ottered his morning devotions, there 
 stood, among the images of those men whom he regarded as 
 beings of a superior order — of Apollonius of Tyana, of 
 Orpheus—the bust also of Christ. It is said that it was his 
 intention to cause Christ to be enrolled among the Roman 
 deities. The emperor was constantly repeating the w'ords of 
 our Saviour— u As ye would that men should do to you, do 
 ye also to them likewise”—a maxim, however, which, taken 
 alone, is, it must be confessed, but little suited to mark the 
 distinguishing character of Christianity—and caused them 
 also to be engraven on the walls of his palace and on public 
 monuments. 1111611 Julia Mammsea, the mother of the 
 emperor, and who possessed a great influence over him, 
 resided at Antioch, she sent for Origen, the great teacher 
 of the Alexandrian church ; and w r e may be certain that this 
 father, wdio, more than any other, knew how to make Clirist- 
 * JE1. Lamprid. vit. c. 3, G, 7. 
 
174 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER MAXIMINUS — 
 
 ianity intelligible to a foreign mode of thinking, availed him¬ 
 self of this opportunity to do this in the case of Mammaea. 
 The declarations of this emperor on several occasions pre¬ 
 suppose the recognition of Christianity as a “ religio licita,” 
 and of the Christian church as a lawfully existing corporation ; 
 as, for example, when, in recommending a new mode of 
 appointment to the civil offices of the state, he referred for a 
 model to the regulations in Christian churches ; and when, in 
 a dispute betwixt the guild of cooks and the Christian church 
 in Rome, respecting a lot of common land whicli the latter 
 had appropriated, he decided in favour of the church, saying, 
 “ It was better that God should be worshipped, in whatever 
 manner, on that spot, than that it should be given up to the 
 cooks.” With this favourable disposition on the part of Alex¬ 
 ander Severus towards the Christians, and after his declara¬ 
 tions, which implied a tacit recognition of Christianity as a 
 “ religio licita,” it is the more singular that he should still 
 have omitted to take the decisive step which would have 
 given to the Christian church the greatest, the most certain, 
 and the most lasting advantage—that of admitting Christianity 
 by an express law of the empire among the tolerated religions. 
 This fact clearly proves how difficult it was for a Roman 
 emperor to effect a change in anything that related to the 
 public religion of the state. And it was even in the reign of 
 Severus that Domitius Ulpian, the civilian whose authority 
 stands so high in Roman law, collected, in the seventh of his 
 ten books, De officio proconsulis,* the rescripts of the empe¬ 
 rors against the Christians.t 
 
 The rude Thracian, Maximinus, who in the year 235, 
 after the murder of the excellent Alexander Severus, raised 
 himself to the imperial throne, hated the Christians simply be¬ 
 cause of the friendship which his predecessor had shown them, 
 and persecuted in particular those bishops who had been on 
 terms of intimacy with him.J In addition to this, several of 
 the provinces—Cappadocia, for instance, and Pontus—were 
 visited with destructive earthqukes, which re-enkindled the 
 
 * Of which the fragments are to be found in the Digests, 1.1. tit. 
 XIV. c. 4, and the following. 
 
 f Lactant. institut. 1. V. c. 11 : Ut doceret, quibus oportet eos poenis 
 affici. qui se cultores Dei confiterentur. 
 
 $ Euseb. 1. VI. c. 28. 
 
PHILIP THE ARABIAN. 
 
 175 
 
 popular hatred against the Christians. Under such an empe¬ 
 ror as Maximinus, the fury of the people had free scope ; and 
 it was, moreover, encouraged by hostile governors. The 
 persecutions were, indeed, confined to particular provinces, so 
 that the Cliristians could save themselves by flying from one 
 province to another. But although the persecutions were less 
 violent than in other times, they made the greater impression 
 because they fell on those who, during the long interval of 
 peace, had become unused to violence/* 
 
 With the accession of Philip the Arabian, in the year 244 , 
 a more favourable time returned to the Christians. It is said 
 that this emperor was himself a Christian, f We have a cir¬ 
 cumstantial account which states that on one Easter eve he 
 presented himself at a Christian church for the purpose of 
 joining in the public worship, but that he was met at the door 
 by the bishop,£ who told him that, on account of his past 
 crimes,§ he could not be admitted until he had submitted to 
 the penance of the church ; and that the emperor actually 
 consented to comply with the terms prescribed. But this story 
 does not harmonize with what we learn elsewhere of the empe- 
 ror } hilip. In no part of his public life, not even on his 
 coins, has he left the least trace of his Christianity. On the 
 contrary, he appears throughout an observer of the pagan rites 
 of the state. Origen, who maintained a correspondence with 
 the imperial family,|| and who, during this reign, wrote his 
 work against Celsus, gives us, indeed, to understand that the 
 Christians now enjoyed a period of repose. Still we do not 
 find in him any intimation that the ruler of the Roman empire 
 was a Christian, not even in passages where assuredly, if it had 
 been true, he would have felt called upon to mention it. The 
 only possible way of explaining this fact would be to suppose 
 that the emperor, for political reasons, kept liis conversion to 
 
 iniST F iirp“ C! "srrj «r d c,pr - ” d «*• 
 
 Eusebius, in his Church History, makes use of the expression 
 
 Xoyoi - But ln the Chronicle he distinctly calls him the first 
 Christian emperor. 
 
 1 According to the later tradition of Babylas, bishop of Antioch. 
 
 A 1 lie . assa ssmation of his predecessor, Cordianus, was doubtless one 
 ot the crimes here meant. 
 
 || He had written letters to the emperor and to his wife Severa, which 
 have not been preserved. 
 
 / 
 
176 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER PHILIP THE ARABIAN 
 
 Christianity a secret. But then, again, such a statement 
 3d be irreconcilable with the other, winch makes him 
 to visit a Christian assembly on so solemn an occasion, and t. 
 submit even to the penance of the church. We find, indeed 
 the first traces of the tradition of this emperor s conversion to 
 Christianity in an author of no less credit than Dionysius of 
 Alexandria, who wrote in the reign of Valerian, the second in 
 succession from Philip. He says of Valerian, that he showed 
 more °-ood will towards the Cliristians than even^ those empe¬ 
 rors who were held to be Christians themselves By those 
 emperors we can conceive no others to be meant than the pi - 
 se V Philip and Alexander Severus. Probably then the 
 
 well-informed Dionysius placed both in the 
 like Alexander Severus, might have included Christianity in 
 his system of religious eclecticism, and so legendary exaggen - 
 ST of hint a Christian. But the= oflns pre- 
 
 decessor and many other actions of which he was known to be 
 guilty were inconsistent with his Christianity: to solve, there¬ 
 fore^ this contradiction, the legend may have thought it 
 necessary to add this figment of the occurrence at the vigil of 
 
 E C'instead of dwelling longer upon this 
 we will now, before we pass to new trials of the Christian 
 ctocl adduce the remarkable words of that great ecclesiasti- 
 liTeai and writer of the times, Origen, with regard both 
 SuTSu. Which the church had already encountered, and 
 also her existing condition and future prospects. Of the eai e 
 persecutions he observes,t “ Although the Christians, who had 
 been commanded not to defend themselves against their ene¬ 
 mies by outward force, observed the mild and humane mju i - 
 m n Jet that which they could not have gamed, however 
 powerful they might have been, had 
 
 wao-e war, they have received from God, who constantly 
 fouqht for them, and who, from time to time, constrained o 
 peace those who had arrayed themselves against them, and 
 would have exterminated them from the earth ; for, as a kin 
 of warning and memorial to them, that, when t ey saw so 
 of their brethren exposed to sufferings on account of their 
 religion they might become the bolder in despising death, a 
 few^now and then, so few that they may easily he numbered , 
 
 + L. III. c. 8. 
 
 * "Riiseb. 1. VII. c. 10. 
 
origen’s remarks. 
 
 177 
 
 have died for the Christian religion;* while God has always 
 prevented a war of extermination against the whole body of 
 Christians since it was his pleasure that they should remain 
 and that the whole earth should be filled with this saving and 
 most holy doctrine. And yet, on the other hand, in order that 
 he weaker brethren delivered from their fear of death, might 
 breathe freely, God has taken care of the faithful, scattering, 
 by ns mere will, all the assaults of their enemies, so th£ 
 neither emperor, nor governor, nor the populace, were allowed 
 to rage against them any more.” In reference to his own 
 times he observes, “The number of the Christians God lias 
 caused continually to increase, and some addition is made to it 
 every day: he has moreover, already given them the free 
 exejcise oJ their religion,f although a thousand obstacles still 
 hinder the spread of the doctrine of Jesus in the world Bit 
 since it was God who willed that the doctrines of Jesus should 
 become a blessing to the gentiles also, the machinations of men 
 against the Christians have all been put to shame and the 
 governors, and the populace endeavoured 
 
 become ”7 H f ^ ^ P^^rful have they 
 
 become. lie also says that among the multitude who had 
 
 become Christians there might be found men of wealth and of 
 high stations in the government, as also rich and noble 
 women ;§ that the teacher of a Christian church might now 
 indeed, obtain honour and respect, and yet that the contempt 
 th vvhlch he was treated by others exceeded the respect 
 which he enjoyed from his brethren in the faith.)! He savs 
 moreover, that these absurd accusations against the Christians 
 were still believed by many, who carried their prejudices so 
 fai as even to avoid speaking with thew.f By the divine will 
 he persecutions against the Christians had long since ceased 
 but he adds, with a glance to the future, that this time of 
 
 Me r ; t Xoitmatiut/ S 
 
 t ’'HSn Ss xa'i vafpntr'ictv tT/S liaxsv. L. VII. C. 2G. 
 i Toniry vXtiwtiylmr' *x) L. c. 
 
 fi I"’” r* y . a ) ,4 yi ^. L J JL c 0 
 
 ( “ allosio “ ,0 lhe 1>arties -iw-* 
 
 ol JL L /, VL a y 8 - ^ngen says that Jews had spread abroad those reports 
 about the muider of children, &c., against the Christians P 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 N 
 
178 
 
 CHRISTIANS UNDER PHILIP THE ARABIAN— 
 
 tranquillity was likely soon to come to an end, since the 
 calumniators of Christianity have once more started the 
 opinion that the cause of the many disturbances (in the latter 
 part of this emperor’s reign) was to be ascribed to the great 
 multitude of the Christians, who had so increased their num¬ 
 bers because they were no longer persecuted. He foresaw 
 then the possibility of a revival ol the troubles, that tae perse¬ 
 cutions had not yet come to an end, and that the opinion 
 which saw in the decline of the state religion and the unceasing 
 progress of Christianity the source of fresh calamities to the 
 empire would sooner or later bring on another persecution. 
 
 “ If God,” says he, “ grants liberty to the tempter, and gnes 
 him the power to persecute us, we shall be persecuted. But 
 if it is God’s will that we should not be exposed to these su 
 ferings we shall, in some wonderful way, enjoy tranquillity, 
 evenln the midst of a world that hates us; and we trust in 
 him who has said, Be of good cheer, I have overcome the 
 world. And, in truth, he has overcome the world. In so tar, 
 then, as it is the will of Him who has overcome the world, 
 that we should overcome it, and as he has received from 
 the Father power to overcome the world, we are confident 1 
 his victory .t But if it is his pleasure that we should again 
 strive and battle for the faith, then let the enemy come, and 
 we will say to him, ‘We can do all things through him that 
 strengthens us, Jesus Christ our Lord.’ Although Origen 
 was too sensible and sagacious to place great confidence in the 
 tranquillity which the church then enjoyed, and rather saw - 
 that new'struggles were yet to be undergone, still he was 
 firmly persuaded that the day was coming when Christianity, 
 by virtue of its intrinsic, divine power, was to come forth vic¬ 
 torious out of them all, and gain the dominion over the whole 
 world. Celsus had said, that if all were to behave like the 
 Christians the emperor would be left without an army, ie 
 Roman empire would fall a prey to the wildest barbarians, and 
 
 * K«; (,’*« xavwScu r'o it too; t«\ file* ™S ^riiov^v ’tyymp £v«v 
 
 AV„, iora-j .1 ™ T4 ^ 
 
 ' „ 1, T», ■riffriuovruv voujiiraiinv urcu. L. m. l. ij. 
 
 render the passage (1. VIII. c. 70), according to what seems to me 
 to be a necessary correction of the text: ±>oTi ? tt f o™ >»■-?,rcu (instead 
 0 f a (this I insert) v Uo « ™ r * u 
 
 (« 1 0mlt ) 
 
origen’s remarks. 
 
 179 
 
 consequently all civilization become extinct. To this (Wen 
 replied—“ If, as Celsus says, all did as I do, then the barba¬ 
 rians also would receive the divine word, and become the 
 most moral and gentle of men. All other religions would 
 cease from the earth, and Christianity alone be supreme 
 tvhich indeed is destined one day to have the supremacy , since 
 the divine truth is continually bringing more souls under its 
 sway. . I lie conviction which Origen here expresses—that 
 Christianity, by its own intrinsic power, would, in addition to 
 its other conquests, subdue all the rudeness of the savage 
 stock of human nature, and bestow all true enlightenment on 
 the barbarians—was nothing new, but had been given from the 
 first with the Christian consciousness itself. The Apostle Paul 
 describes Christianity as a power adapted as well to Scythians 
 as to Greeks, and destined to impart the same divine life to both 
 these national stocks, uniting them together in one divine family 
 and Justin Martyr assures us that no barbarian or nomadic race 
 was to be found in which prayers were not offered to God in 
 the name of the Crucified.f But the feature which, in (Wen’s 
 assertion, is really new—that which evinces the change which 
 during the course of this century, the progress of histoiw 
 had worked in the mode of thinking among Christians, and in 
 their anticipations of the future development of God’s king- 
 dom—was Origen’s confident avowal of an expectation that 
 Christianity, working outwards from within , would overcome 
 ami suppress every other religion, and gain the dominion of 
 the world Such an anticipation was foreign to the thoughts 
 of the earlier teachers of the church. They could not think 
 o lei wise ol the pagan state than as a power incessantly hos¬ 
 tile to Christianity, and only expected the triumph of the 
 
 church as the result of a supernatural interposition, at the 
 second coming of Christ.} 1 
 
 * oj r* ni yv roZ $ t oZ .outrun, 
 
 VIII c. 68.” Kea7Wt ‘’ ™ Xoyov ^v X i. L. 
 
 t Dial. c. Tryph. f. 345 ed. Colon: oA ? y ^ M ri • 
 tin tin f r Jj, ^ arl 
 
 „ Af^ r * «**•, li i„ crxwal; oL-ZL i, 
 
 ™ '™u (a $tvn } tl xa ) We'W ri tin) 
 xxt 'Toinrii Tivv oAov yivovrai. c 
 
 * * s ex P resse( f by Justin Martyr, in the Dial. c. Tryph. f 358 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 TIIE PERSECUTION 
 
 The prediction of the sagacious Origen, with regard to im¬ 
 pending persecutions, was soon verified. Indeed, at the very 
 time he was inditing these words at Caesarea in Palestine, they 
 were already being verified in another district of the empire. 
 When the devoted adherents of the old national religion 
 observed the encroachments which, threatening the destruction 
 of all that they held most dear, had been everywhere made by 
 Christianity during the long period of undisturbed tranquillity, 
 their fanaticism was naturally excited to greater violence. 
 And accordingly, even before the change in the government, an 
 individual made his appearance in Alexandria, who imagined 
 that he had been called by an express revelation* to arouse 
 the people to defend their ancient sanctuaries against the 
 enemies of the gods ; and by this means he kindled against the 
 Christians the fury of the excitable populace of that city, irom 
 whom they had already suffered much. 
 
 It had often happened before now that a government 
 favourable to the Christians was succeeded by one which 
 oppressed them. The reign of Antoninus Pius, for example, 
 had been followed by that of Marcus Aurelius—and oi 
 Marcus Aurelius by that of Maximinus the Thracian, bo it 
 proved once more, when, in 249, Decius Trajanus, after 
 conquering Philip the Arabian, placed himself on the throne 
 of the Ceesars. An emperor, zealously devoted to the pagan 
 religion, upon succeeding to a government which had been 
 lenient towards the Christians, would naturally feel himself 
 called upon to enforce again the ancient laws, which had been 
 allowed to fall into abeyance, and to carry them more rigor¬ 
 ously into execution against the religion which, through the 
 indulgence of the previous reign, had become widely diffused. 
 In many parts of the empire the Christians had now been un¬ 
 disturbed for at least thirty years; in several districts for 
 a still longer time. A persecution, following so long a period 
 of tranquillity, could not fail to prove a sifting process for the 
 churches, when so many had forgotten the conflict with the 
 
 where he says of the OJ oi $*wrw»nt *« 1*>**rtt 
 
 ^Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria, in a letter to Fabius, bishop of 
 Antioch, 11 cited in Eusebius (1. VI. c. 41), calls bun, *0 — - 
 
 frcLy-n u,ri\ r rn x&i tfotTiTW* 
 
UNDER DEC1US TRAJAN. 
 
 181 
 
 world to which as Christians they were called, and the virtues 
 which they should maintain in this conflict. It was in this 
 light, of a sifting and cleansing of the churches, which under 
 the long enjoyment of peace had become worldly and slothful, 
 that this new persecution was regarded by Cyprian, the bishop of 
 Carthage. It was thus, therefore, that he expressed himself to 
 the Christians under his spiritual guidance, soon after the first 
 storm of the persecution was over.* “ If,” said he, “ the 
 cause of the disease is understood, the remedy of the unsound¬ 
 ness is already found. The Lord would prove his people; 
 and because the divinely prescribed rule of life had been 
 disturbed in the long interval of tranquillity, a divine judg¬ 
 ment was sent to revive our fallen, and, I might almost say, 
 slumbering faith. Our sins deserve more; but our gracious 
 Lord has so ordered it, that all which has occurred should 
 appear rather like a trial than a persecution. Forgetting 
 what believers did in the times of the apostles, and what they 
 should always be doing, Christians have laboured, with insatiable 
 desire, to increase their earthly possessions. Many of the 
 bishops, who, by precept and example, should have guided 
 others, have neglected their divine calling to engage in worldly 
 concerns.” Such being the state of things in many of the 
 churches, it will be easily understood that a persecution, which 
 was now an unusual occurrence, and which in the present case 
 became after the first outbreak extremely violent, must have 
 produced a powerful impression. 
 
 It was certainly the design of tire emperor entirely to sup¬ 
 press Christianity. In the year 250 he ordered rigorous 
 search to be made for all persons suspected of non-compliance 
 with the national worship, and the Christians were to be 
 required to conform to the religious ceremonies of the Roman 
 state. In case they refused, threats, and then, if necessary, 
 the torture, were to be employed to compel submission. If 
 they remained firm, it was resolved to inflict, particularly on 
 the bishops, whom the emperor hated most bitterly, the 
 punishment of death. There was a disposition, however, 
 to try first the effect of commands, threats, persuasions, and 
 the milder penalties. By degrees recourse was had to more 
 violent measures; and gradually the persecution extended 
 into the provinces from the capital of the empire—where the 
 * In his Sermo de lapsis 
 
182 
 
 the persecution 
 
 presence of an emperor known to be hostile to the Christians 
 called forth the severest proceedings. A herever the im¬ 
 perial edict was carried into execution, the his s ri < 
 publicly to appoint a day for all the Christians ot a P la J e Pre¬ 
 senting themselves before the magistrate renouncing their 
 religion, and offering at the altar. Those who before the expi¬ 
 ration of this interval fled their country, had their goods con¬ 
 fiscated, and were themselves forbidden to return under penaiy 
 of death. But if, unwilling to make so immediate a sacrifice 
 of the earthly goods for the heavenly treasure, they waited in 
 the expectation that some expedient niight pei taps je ' 
 found whereby both could be retained, then, unless they had 
 voluntarily presented themselves by the day appointed, t i y 
 were brought up for examination before the magistrate, assistec 
 by five of the principal citizens.* After repeated application 
 of the torture, those who remained firm were cast into prison, 
 where recourse was also had to the torments of hunger and 
 thirst to overcome their resolution, lhe extreme penalty 
 of death does not appear to have been frequently resorted to 
 Many magistrates, whose avarice exceeded their zeal o * 
 laws, or who were really desirous of sparing the Christ ., 
 gladly let them off, even without sacrificing, P r » vld ^ ^ 
 bought a certificate, or libel, as it was cadet, a. tsiii = 
 they had satisfactorily complied with the requisitions of the 
 edict.t Some Christians pursued a bolder course, and, instead 
 of providing such certificates, maintained, without appealing 
 before the authorities, that their names were entered on the 
 magistrate’s protocol among those by wuhm the edict had 
 been obeyed (acta facientes)4 Many erred through ignorance , 
 supposing themselves guilty of no violation of religious con¬ 
 stancy, if. without either sacrificing or burning incense ir 
 violation of their professed faith, they only al owed others to 
 report that they had done so. But this proceeding the church 
 always condemned as a tacit abjuration.S 
 
 * Cyprian, ep. 40. Quinque primores illi, qui edicto nuper magtra 
 t -.K n c fnprant copulati, ut fidem nostram subruerent. The expression 
 edicto renders knot probable, to say the least, that this regulation was 
 
 confined to Cavthasre alone. ... ■ . 
 
 t Those who procured such a certificate were styled libellatui. 
 
 I Cyprian, ep. 31. Qui acta fecissent licet Puentes, cum fieient, 
 offnisepnt_ut sic scriberetur maudando. 
 
 § The Roman clergy, in their letter to Cyprian, say, Non est immunis 
 
UNDER DKCIUS TRAJAN. 
 
 1S3 
 
 The effect produced by this sanguinary edict among the 
 Christians in large cities, such as Alexandria and Carthage, 
 may best be described in the words of Dionysius, bishop of the 
 former place.* “ All,” says he, “ were thrown into conster¬ 
 nation by the terrible decree; and of the more distinguished 
 citizens,f many immediately presented themselves of their own 
 accord: some, private individuals, impelled by their fears; 
 others as holding some public office, and being forced to 
 do so by their employment while others again were urged 
 forward by their relations and friends. As the name of each 
 was called, they approached the unholy offering; some pale 
 and trembling, as if they were going to be sacrificed instead of 
 to sacrifice , so that the populace, who thronged around, jeered 
 them ; and it rvas plain to all that they were equally afraid to 
 sacrifice or to die. Others advanced with more alacrity, 
 carrying their boldness so far as to avow they never had been 
 Christians. In all of these was verified the saying of our 
 Lord, ‘ How hardly can a rich man enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven !’ As to the rest, some followed the examples set them 
 by their more distinguished brethren; others betook them¬ 
 selves to flight; others were arrested. Of the last, a part 
 held out, indeed, till the manacles were fastened on, and some 
 even suffered themselves to be imprisoned for several days; 
 but all abjured before they were summoned to appear at the 
 tribunal. Others bore the tortures to a certain point, but 
 finally gave in. Yet there were firm and ever blessed pillars 
 of the Lord, who through Him were made strong, enduring 
 with a power and steadfastness worthy of, and corresponding 
 to, the strength of their faith, and became wonderful witnesses 
 
 a scelere, qui ut fieret imperavit, nec est alienus a crimine, cujus con¬ 
 sensu licet non a se admissum crimen tamen publice legitur. 
 
 * Euseb. 1. VI. c. 41. 
 
 f Ol -npiipanmooi, tbe personae insignes, on whom the attention of the 
 pagans was always first directed, and who, above all others, were exposed 
 to danger. 
 
 t Among the person® insignes, a distinction was made between the 
 ihcurvjcv-a, who appeared voluntarily before the civil authorities and 
 complied with the edict, and the oi usro tuv 
 
 who were obliged by their official duties to appear in the places of public 
 resort, and were therefore under the necessity of deciding immediately 
 whether they would obey the edict, or render themselves liable to the 
 penalty by their disobedience publicly expressed. 
 
184 THK l’KKSlXUTiOM 
 
 of his kingdom.” Among these Dionysius mentions a boy, 
 fifteen years of age, Dioscurus by name, who, by his apt 
 replies and constancy under torture, forced the admiration of 
 the governor himself, who finally dismissed him, declaring 
 that, on account of his youth, lie was willing to allow him 
 time for reflection. 
 
 If the number both of the wavering, or of those who suc¬ 
 cumbed in the struggle, was great, yet were there also many 
 glorious examples of the power of faith, and ot Christian de¬ 
 votedness. Such at Carthage was one Is umidicus, who, for 
 his exemplary conduct in the persecution, was made a presbyter 
 by Cyprian. This man, after having inspired many with 
 courage to suffer martyrdom, and having seen his own wife 
 perish at the stake, had himself been left for dead, half burned 
 and covered by a heap of stones. His daughter went to 
 search for the body of her father, in order to bury it. Great 
 was her joy at finding it still giving signs of life, and by her 
 filial assiduities she finally succeeded in completely restoring 
 him to health. Another, a woman, had been brought to the 
 altar by her husband, where she was forced to offer. But she 
 exclaimed to the person who held her hand, 11 1 did it not, it 
 was you that did itand she was thereupon condemned to^ 
 exile.* In the dungeon at Carthage we find confessors of 
 Christ, whom their persecutors had endeavoured, for eight 
 days, by heat, hunger, and thirst, to force to recant, and who 
 looked death by starvation in the face unmoved, j Certain con¬ 
 fessor’s at Rome, who had already been confined for a year, 
 wrote to the bishop Cyprian in the following terms :1 “ What 
 more glorious and blessed lot can, by God’s grace, fall to 
 man, than, amidst tortures and the fear of death itself, to 
 confess God the Lord; with lacerated bodies, and a spirit 
 departing, but yet free, to confess Christ the Son of God ; to 
 become fellow-sufferers with Christ in the name of Christ? 
 If we have not yet shed our blood, we are ready to shed it. 
 Pray then, beloved Cyprian, that the Lord would daily con¬ 
 firm and strengthen each one of us, more and more, with the 
 power of his might, anil that he, as the best of captains, may 
 at length conduct to the battle which is before us his soldiers, 
 whom he has trained and proved in the dangerous camp, 
 
 * Cyprian, ep. IS. 
 f Ep. 21. Luciani ap. Cyprian. 
 
 I Ep. 2G. 
 
UNDER DECIUS TRAJAN'. 
 
 185 
 
 armed with those divine weapons which never can be con¬ 
 quered.”* 
 
 The hatred of the emperor directed itself particularly 
 against the bishops, and perhaps the punishment of death was 
 expressly intended for them alone. At the very outbreak of 
 the persecution, the Roman bishop Fabianus suffered martyr¬ 
 dom. Several of the bishops withdrew from their commu¬ 
 nities till the first tempest of the persecution should be over. 
 This course might seem an act of weakness, if they had been 
 impelled to it by a fear of death which threatened them in the 
 first instance. But they were probably actuated by loftier 
 motives. As their presence served only to exasperate the 
 pagans, they perhaps might look upon it as a duty to con¬ 
 tribute, by their temporary absence, to the peace of their 
 flocks, and moreover, so far as was consistent with steadfastness 
 in the faith and the diligent discharge of their pastoral duties, 
 to preserve their own lives and ministrations for the future 
 benefit of their communities and of the church. But sucli a 
 step was naturally open to different interpretations, and the 
 bishops, especially those of the large capital towns, on whom 
 all eyes were turned, became thereby obnoxious to much 
 obloquy. Even Cyprian did not escape censure, when, 
 at the ciy of the furious pagans demanding his execution, he 
 withdrew for a period into a place of concealment, j His 
 later conduct, at least, shows that he could triumph over 
 the fear of death, and the frankness and peace of conscience 
 with which he explains his conduct, in a letter to the Roman 
 church, are sufficient to exonerate him from all blame.J “ At 
 the first beginning of the troubles,” he writes, “ when with 
 furious outcries the people had repeatedly demanded my death, 
 I withdrew for a time, not so much out of regard for my own 
 safety, as for the public peace of the brethren, that the tumult 
 might not be increased by my presence, which was so offensive 
 to the heathen.” This conduct was in accordance with the prin¬ 
 ciples on which in similar cases he recommended others toact.§ 
 “ On this account our Lord,” he says, <£ commanded us, in times 
 
 * Eplies. 6, 11. 
 
 f The Roman clergy, in their letter to the Clems at Carthage, ex¬ 
 press themselves with some doubt on the matter : “ They had learned 
 Cyprianum secessisse certa ex causa, quod utique recte fecerit, proptcrea 
 quod sit persona insignis.” Ep. 2. 
 
 X Ep. 14. 
 
 § De lapsis. 
 
186 
 
 THE PERSECUTION 
 
 of persecution, to give way and fly ; he prescribed this rule, and 
 followed it himself. For as the martyr’s crown comes from 
 the grace of God, and cannot be gained if the appointed hour 
 has not arrived, he who withdraws for a season, while he still 
 remains true to Christ, denies not the faith, but abides his 
 time.” There was, unquestionably, a difference between 
 the case of Christians generally, and of one who had the 
 pastoral office and duties to discharge towards souls which 
 were committed to his care. But Cyprian neglected none of 
 these obligations. He could truly say that, although absent, 
 in the body, yet in spirit he was constantly present with his 
 flock, and by counsel and act endeavoured to guide them 
 according to the precepts of his Lord.* from his retire¬ 
 ment he maintained a constant correspondence with his people 
 by means of certain ecclesiastics. The letters which he thus 
 sent show how truly he could say this of himself; how vigi¬ 
 lantly he laboured to maintain the discipline and order of his 
 church, and in every way to provide both for the wants of the 
 poor, who were hindered by the persecution from pursuing 
 their ordinary employments, and for the relief of such as were 
 in prison. The same principles of Christian prudence which 
 moved him to avoid a momentary danger were also maintained 
 in his exhortations to his flock, in which, while He exhorted them 
 to Christian courage and constancy, lie warned them against 
 all fanatical extravagance. “1 beg of you. he writes to his 
 clergy,| “ to be slack neither in prudence nor care for the 
 preservation of quiet; and if, through love, our brethren are 
 anxious to visit those worthy confessors whom divine grace 
 has already honoured by a glorious beginning, let it at all 
 events be done circumspectly, and not in crowds, lest the sus¬ 
 picion of the heathen should be excited, and so all access to them 
 should be prohibited, and, in our eagerness for too much, we 
 should lose the whole. Be careful, then, for the greater safety, 
 to manage this matter with due moderation. In administering 
 the communion to the prisoners in their dungeon, let the pres¬ 
 byters, as well as the deacons who assist, do so in rotation ; 
 for, by such a change of persons and of visitors, we shall best 
 avoid exciting the jealousy of our oppressors. Indeed, we 
 must in all things, as becomes the servants of God, meekly 
 and humbly accommodate ourselves to the times, and labour 
 * Ep. 14. t Ep. 4 
 
UNDER DECIUS TRAJAN. 
 
 187 
 
 ro preserve peace and the welfare of our people.” He ad¬ 
 vised his church to regard this persecution as a call to prayer.* 
 “ Let each of us,” lie says, “ pray to God, not for himself 
 only, but for all the brethren, according to the form which 
 our Lord has given us, where we are taught to pray not as 
 individuals for ourselves alone, but, as a common brotherhood, 
 for all. When the Lord shall see us humble and peaceable, 
 united among ourselves, and made better by our present 
 sufferings, he will deliver us from the persecutions of our 
 enemies.” 
 
 From a comparison of the letters of Cyprian, -written at 
 this date, with that of Dionysius of Alexandria, it would 
 appear that the persecution became gradually more severe. 
 This increased severity, however, may be accounted for with¬ 
 out supposing that any new edict was issued by the emperor 
 Decius. As so many had faltered on the first menace, it 
 was hoped that Christianity might easily be crushed without 
 resorting to extremities, if only the bishops could be removed, 
 who constantly kept up their zeal for the faith. The manage¬ 
 ment. of the whole matter in the several provinces had at first 
 been intrusted to the city and local magistrates, as being, 
 from their acquaintance with the individual citizens, best 
 qualified to deal with them, and to determine the fittest 
 means to operate most effectually upon each one, according to 
 his particular character and his particular connections. The 
 severest penalties inflicted at first were imprisonment and exile. 
 When, however, the hopes which the first success had excited 
 were disappointed, the proconsuls took the matter into their 
 own hands, and more violent proceedings were immediately 
 adopted against those whose constancy had been the cause of 
 this disappointment, in order to force them to yield at least 
 like the rest. Hunger and thirst, the most refined and cruel 
 methods of torture, in some cases the punishment of death, were 
 now employed, and inflicted even upon many who were not 
 connected with the sacred office. But it was natural that 
 men would grow tired of their fury in course of time, and 
 their excited passions would, cool again. The change, more¬ 
 over, which took place in the provincial governments, when, 
 in the beginning of the year 251, the old proconsuls and pre¬ 
 sidents laid down their office, might, for a time, have been 
 
 * Kp. 7 . 
 
18S PERSECUTION UNDER CALLUS AND VOLUSIANUS. 
 
 favourable for the Christians. Finally, the attention of Decius 
 himself was withdrawn from persecuting the Christians by 
 political events of greater importance'—the insurrection in 
 Macedonia, and the Gothic war. And it was in the. latter 
 war, towards the close of the year, that he lost his life. The 
 calm in consequence of this event which the Christians en¬ 
 joyed continued under the reign of Gallus and Volusianus, 
 during a part of the following year 252. But a destructive 
 pestilence, which, having broke out in the preceding reign, 
 was now gradually spreading its ravages through the whole 
 Roman empire, while drought and famine were afflicting 
 several of the provinces, excited as usual the fury of the 
 populace against the Christians.* An imperial edict was put 
 forth enjoining all the subjects of the Roman emperors to 
 sacrifice to the gods, in order to obtain deliverance from so 
 grievous a national calamity.| The public attention was 
 again arrested by the numbers who withdrew from these 
 solemnities because they were Christians. Hence arose new 
 persecutions in the hope of increasing the number of sacrifices, 
 and of sustaining the old religion, which was everywhere 
 declining. 
 
 On the approach of these new trials Cyprian wrote a letter 
 of encouragement to the African church of the Thibaritans, j 
 in which he thus addresses them:—“Let no one, my dearest 
 brethren, when he observes how our congregations are scattered 
 by the fear of persecution, be disturbed because he no longer 
 sees the brethren together, nor hears the bishops preach. We, 
 who may not shed the blood of others, but must rather be 
 ready to pour out our own, cannot at such a time meet together. 
 Wherever it happens in these days that a brother is, by the 
 necessity of the times, separated awhile from the church in 
 body, not in spirit, let him not be deterred by the fearful cir¬ 
 cumstances of such a flight, nor appalled at the solitude of the 
 desert, which he may be obliged to make his refuge. JTe is 
 not alone who has Christ for a companion in his flight; he is 
 not alone who, preserving the temple of God inviolate, is not 
 without God, wherever he may be. And if robber or wild 
 
 * See Cyprian’s Apology for the Christians against the charges of 
 Demetriamis. 
 
 t Cypriani ep. 55 ad Cornel. Sacrificia, qua? edicto proposito cele- 
 brare populus jubebatur. $ Ep. 56. 
 
THE CHRISTIANS UNDER VALERIAN. 
 
 189 
 
 beast attack the fugitive in the desert or on the mountains; 
 if hunger, thirst, or cold destroy him ; or if, while his flight 
 leads him over the sea, the storm and waves overwhelm him, 
 still Christ is present to witness the conduct of his soldier 
 wherever lie fights.” 
 
 The bishops of the metropolis, under the very eye of the 
 emperor, became naturally the first mark of persecution. For 
 how could men expect to put down the Christians in the pro¬ 
 vinces, if their bishops were tolerated in Rome ? Cornelius, 
 who, at the hazard of his life, entered on his office while 
 Decius was yet emperor, was first banished, then condemned 
 to death. Lucius, who had tire Christian courage to succeed 
 him in the office during these perilous times, became soon 
 afterwards his successor also in exile and martyrdom. 
 
 Yet the wars and insurrections which occupied the attention 
 of Gall us prevented him from prosecuting with vigour any 
 general persecution in the provinces ; and these events, which 
 terminated, in the summer of the year 253, with his assassi¬ 
 nation, at length restored tranquillity and peace to the Christ¬ 
 ians throughout the empire. 
 
 The emperor Valerian, in the first year of his reign, treated 
 the Christians with unusual clemency; indeed, he is said to 
 have had many of them about his person and in his palace.* 
 But if, without intending in the least to allow the old state 
 religion to perish, he gave himself at first no concern about 
 the affairs of religion, and let things take their course, yet 
 the increasing numbers of the Christians, whose influence 
 reached even his court, may have been used as an argument 
 to convince him of the necessity of stricter measures. At 
 first, when, in 257, he suffered himself to be persuaded into a 
 change of measures towards the Christians, it was manifestly 
 his object to check the advance of Christianity without blood¬ 
 shed. The churches were only to be deprived of their teachers 
 and pastors, and particularly of their bishops. The assembling 
 also of the congregations was prohibited. In this way the 
 trial was made, whether the end could be accomplished without 
 the effusion of blood. 
 
 The forms of procedure, in the first persecution under this 
 emperor, may be clearly ascertained from the protocols or 
 
 * See the letter of Dionysius of Alexandria, in Eusebius, 1. VII. c. 10. 
 
190 
 
 PERSECUTION UNDER VALERIAN—• 
 
 minutes of the examinations of the bishops Cyprian and 
 Dionysius. The proconsul Patemus, having summoned Cy¬ 
 prian before his tribunal, addressed him thus: “ The emperors 
 Valerianus and Grallienus have sent me a rescript, in which 
 they command that all those who do not observe the Roman 
 religion shall immediately adopt the Roman ceremonies. I ask, 
 therefore, what are you ? what do you answer ? ” Cyprian — 
 “ I am a Christian and a bishop. I know of no other god 
 than the true and only God, who created the heavens, the 
 earth, the sea, and all that is therein. This God we Christians 
 serve; to him we pray, day and night, for ourselves, for all 
 men, and for the welfare of the emperors themselves.” The 
 proconsul .—“ Do you persist, then, in this resolution r” Cy¬ 
 prian .—“ A good resolution, grounded on the knowledge of 
 God, cannot be changed.” 'Upon this, the proconsul, in 
 obedience to the imperial edict, sentenced him to banishment. 
 At the same time he explained to Cyprian that the rescript 
 applied not only to the bishops, but also to the priests, and pro¬ 
 ceeded thus : “ I desire, therefore, to know of you who are the 
 priests that reside in this city.” Cyprian .—“Your laws 
 
 justly forbid the laying of informations ; I therefore cannot 
 tell you who they are ; but in the places where they preside 
 you will be able to find them.” Proconsul.— u We are con¬ 
 cerned at present only with this place. To-day our investiga¬ 
 tion is limited to the present place.” Cyprian .—'“ As our 
 doctrine forbids a man to give himself up, and as it is likewise 
 contrary to your own rules, they cannot give themselves up ; 
 but if you seek for them, you will find them.” The proconsul 
 dismissed him with the declaration that the assembling of the 
 Christians in any place soever, and the visiting of Christian 
 cemeteries, (which more than aught else served to kindle the 
 enthusiasm of the Christians,) were forbidden under pain of 
 death. 
 
 The design, at present, was simply to separate the bishops 
 entirely from their churches ; but spiritual ties are not to be 
 sundered by any earthly power. We soon find not only 
 bishops and clergy, who, however, were all along the special 
 objects of persecution, but members also of tne laity, even 
 women and children, subjected to the scourge, and then con¬ 
 demned to imprisonment, or to labour in the mines. They had 
 probably been seized at the cemeteries, or in the churches, 
 
' V PR IAN BISHOP OF CARTHAGE. 
 
 191 
 
 where they he-: been forbidden to assemble. Cyprian, from 
 his place of exile at Curubis, was active in providing for 
 their bodily and spiritual wants, and in proving his sympathy 
 by words and deeds of love. On sending them, for their sup¬ 
 port and for the relief of their sufferings, a large sum of 
 money, taken from his own income and the church chest, lie 
 thus addressed them : * “ In the mines, the body is refreshed 
 not by beds and pillows, but by the comforts and joys of 
 Christ. Your limbs, wearied with labour, recline upon the 
 earth; but it is no punishment to lie there with Christ. If 
 the outward man i> defiled, the inner man is but the more 
 purified by the spirit from above. Your bread is scanty ; but 
 man lives not by bread alone, but by the word of God. You 
 are in want of clothing to defend you from the cold; but he 
 who has put on Christ has clothing and ornament enough. 
 Even though, my dearest brethren, you cannot now celebrate 
 the communion of the Lord’s supper, your faith need feel no 
 want. Lou do celebrate the most glorious communion; you 
 do bring God the most costly oblation, since the holy scrip¬ 
 tures declare that God will not despise a broken and a contrite 
 spirit. You offer and present yourselves to God a holy 
 and lively sacrifice.” “ Your example,” he writes to the 
 clergy, has been followed by a large portion of the church, 
 who have confessed with you and been crowned. United to you 
 by ties of the strongest love, they could not be separated from 
 their pastors by dungeons and mines. Even young maidens 
 and boys are with you. What power have you now in a vic¬ 
 torious conscience—what triumph in your hearts, when you can 
 walk through the mines with enslaved bodies, but with hearts 
 conscious of mastery; when you know that Christ is with you, 
 rejoicing in the patience of his servants, who, in his footsteps 
 and by his ways, are entering into the kingdom of eternity !” 
 
 The emperor must soon have learned that nothing could be 
 accomplished by such measures. The exiled bishops, though 
 outwardly separated from their flocks, were still, as it were, in 
 the midst of them. By letters, by clergy who were passing to 
 and fro, they still exercised an influence over the churches, and 
 their exile only made them dearer to their people. WEerever 
 they were banished, a little church was soon gathered round 
 them; so that, in many countries where the seed of the gospel had 
 
 * Ep. 77. 
 
192 
 
 PERSECUTION UNDER VALERIAN. 
 
 never before been sown, the kingdom of God was now first 
 set up by exiles, whose life as well as lips bore testimony to 
 their faith. Thus Dionysius, the bishop of Alexandria, who 
 had been banished to a remote district of Libya, could say of 
 his exile, * “ We were, at first, persecuted and stoned ; but 
 ere lon<r, not a few of the pagans forsook their idols, and 
 turned to God. It was by us that the first seed of the divine 
 word was conveyed to that spot; and, as if God had sent us 
 thither expressly for this purpose, he brought us back again 
 as soon as we had fulfilled the commission. 
 
 Valerian, therefore, soon thought it necessary to employ 
 more vigorous and severe measures if he would effect a total 
 suppression of Christianity. In the following year (258) 
 appeared the edict. u Let bishops, presbyters, and deacons 
 be immediately put to death by the sword ; let senators and 
 knights be, first of all, deprived of their rank and property, 
 and then, if they still continue to be Christians, let them 
 suffer the due punishment of death; let women of condition, 
 after forfeiting their property, be banished. r lhose Chris¬ 
 tians who were in the service of the palace, slaves and 
 freedmen are, without doubt, chiefly meant by these words,- 
 
 who had formerly made profession of Christianity, or should 
 now make such profession, should be treated as the emperor s 
 property, and, being put in chains,']' distributed^ to labour 
 amonsr the imoerial estates or on the public works, 1 I rom 
 
 * Euseb. 1. VII. c. 11. 
 
 f Perhaps, according to one reading, branded also. 
 
 + The rescript of the emperor to the senate, in the original, is extant 
 in Cyprian, ep. 82, ad Successum : Ut episcopi et presbyteri et diacones 
 in continenti animadvertautnr; senatores vero, et egregii viri ct (the 
 second et is doubtless surreptitious — the egregii viri are the equites 
 themselves, as the senators are the clarissimi) equites Romani, dignitate 
 amissa, etiam bonis spolientur, et si, ademptis facultatibus, Christiani 
 esse perseveraverint, capite quoque mulctentur ; matrons; vero, ademptis 
 bonis, in exsilium relegentur; Ctesariani autem quicunquc vel prius 
 confessi fuerant, vel nunc confessi fuerint, confiscentur et ymcti in 
 Cresarianas possessiones descripti mittantur. Instead of descripti (dis¬ 
 tributed), another text has scripti, or inscripti— branded. That as early 
 as the persecution of Decian, Christians were branded on the forehead, 
 may be gathered from a passage in Pontius’ Life of Cyprian: lot con- 
 fessores Irontium notatorum secunda inscriptione siguatos. The prima 
 inscriptio, namely, the inscriptio crucis, stp^ayr, riZ ff-av^v, 
 
 was that received at baptism. Yet the position of the words would 
 better correspond, perhaps, with the common reading. 
 
CYPRIAN, BISHOP OF CARTHAGE. 
 
 393 
 
 this rescript it is evident that the emperor’s first object 
 was to deprive the Christians of their spiritual heads , and to 
 check the progress of Christianity in the higher classes. Un¬ 
 necessary cruelty did not enter into his design. The people, 
 however, and the governors did not always stop here, as we 
 learn from the history of certain martyrdoms of the time, 
 against the authenticity of which no valid objection can be 
 urged. 
 
 The Roman bishop Sixtus, and four deacons of his church, 
 were the first who suffered under this rescript; their martyr¬ 
 dom took place on the sixth of August, 258. 
 
 in the provinces the new governors had provisionally recalled 
 from exile those whom their predecessors had banished, and were 
 now obliging them to await in retirement the decision of their 
 fate by the new rescript which was expected from Rome. 
 Cyprian was residing at a secluded villa in the neighbour¬ 
 hood of Carthage, when he heard that he was to be conveyed 
 to Utica, there to receive his sentence from the proconsul, who 
 happened to be temporarily residing at that place. It was his 
 wish, however, like a faithful shepherd, to give his last testi¬ 
 mony, by word and by suffering, in the presence of his flock; 
 he therefore yielded to the entreaties of his friends, and with¬ 
 drew a while, until the proconsul should return. From the 
 place of his concealment he addressed his last letter to his 
 flock.* “ I allowed myself,” he says, “ to be persuaded to retire 
 foi a time, because it is fitting - that a bishop should confess the 
 Lord in the place where he is set over the church of the Lord, so 
 that the whole church may be honoured by the confession of 
 their bishop. For whatsoever the confessing bishop utters in 
 the moment of confession, comes, under the guidance of the 
 divine Spirit, from the mouths of all. Let me, then, in this 
 secret retirement, await the return of the proconsul to Carthage, 
 that I may learn from him the decree of the emperor with 
 regard both to the laity and the bishops among the Christians, 
 and to speak whatever the Lord in that hour may cause me to 
 speak, jjut do you, my dearest brethren, agreeably to the 
 precepts which, according to the doctrine of the Lord, you 
 have ofien heard from me, study to preserve quiet. Let no 
 one lead the brethren into tumults, nor voluntarily give himself 
 up to the heathen. The only time for any one to speak is 
 
 * Ep. S3. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 o 
 
194 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER 
 
 when he has been apprehended; in that hour, the Lord , who 
 dwells in us, speaks in us.” At length, on the fourteenth of 
 September, the proconsul returned, and, when the fatal sentence 
 was pronounced, the last words of Cyprian were, a Cod be 
 thanked.” * 
 
 This persecution ended with the reign of its author. Valerian 
 having, by the unfortunate issue of the war, become a prisoner 
 in the°hands of the Persians, his son Gallienus, who had already 
 been associated with him in the government, obtained, in the 
 year 259, the undivided sovereignty. This prince was more 
 indifferent than his father about public affairs, and conse¬ 
 quently also cared little for the maintenance of the national 
 worship. Immediately upon his accession he published an 
 edict, by which he secured to the Christians the free exeicise 
 of their religion, and commanded restoration to be made to 
 them of the cemeteries, as well as of all other buildings and 
 lands belonging to the churches, which had been confiscated 
 in the preceding reign. By this act he recognised the Chris¬ 
 tian church as a legally existing corporation; for no other, 
 according to the Roman laws, could hold common propeity. 
 
 But as Macrianus had usurped the imperial authority in the 
 East and in Egypt, it was not until after his overthrow, a.d. 261, 
 that the edict of toleration, by Gallienus, could be carried into 
 effect in these provinces, j Hence, while the Christians of the 
 West were already in the enjoyment of repose, in these pro¬ 
 vinces the persecutions were still going on under the edict of 
 Valerian. A remarkable example which occurred at this 
 period in Palestine is recorded by Eusebius. J Marius, a 
 Christian soldier of Caesarea Stratonis, was about to be invested 
 with the office of centurion. Just as the centurion’s staff (the 
 vitis) was held out for his acceptance, another soldier, who 
 had the next promise of promotion, stepped forward and 
 declared that, according to the ancient laws, Marius was 
 incapable of holding rank in the Roman army, because he was 
 a Christian, and did not sacrifice to the gods and to the 
 emperor. Upon this, a delay of three hours was granted to 
 Marius, within which he must decide whether he would remain 
 
 * He was condemned as inimicus Diis Romanis et sacris legibus. 
 
 f Eusebius (1. VII. c. 13) lias not preserved the original edict of this 
 emperor, but the rescript by which the same edict, after the defeat of 
 Macrianus, was applied also to Egypt. \ L. \ II. c. 15. 
 
GALLIENUS AND AURELIAN. 
 
 195 
 
 a Christian. Meanwhile the bishop Theotecnus led him into 
 the church. On the one hand, he pointed to the sword which 
 the centurion wore at his side, and, on the other, to a 
 volume of the gospels, which he held up before him. He was 
 to choose between the two—the military office and the gospel. 
 \Y ithout hesitation, Marius raised his right hand and seized the 
 sacred volume. “ Now,” said the bishop, “ hold fast on God, 
 and may you obtain what you have chosen. Depart in peace.” 
 After a brave confession he was beheaded. 
 
 The law of Gallienus must have wrought a considerable 
 change in the condition of the Christians, which was moreover 
 pregnant with important consequences. The step was now 
 taken at which many an emperor, still more favourably dis¬ 
 posed to Christianity than Gallienus, had hesitated. Christi¬ 
 anity was become a religio licita; and the religious party that 
 threatened destruction to the old religion of the state, and 
 to all institutions connected with it, had now, at last, at¬ 
 tained a legal existence. Many a prince who at an earlier 
 period, and under the existing laws, would have had no scruple 
 in persecuting the Christians, would now doubtless be shy of 
 attacking a corporation established by law. This was clearly 
 shown in the instance of Lucius Domitius Aurelian, the 
 second emperor after Gallienus, who became emperor in 270. 
 Sprung from a low rank, and educated in pagan superstition, 
 he could hardly be otherwise than hostilely disposed towards 
 the Christians from the very first. Not only was he devoted 
 
 with singular fanaticism to the Oriental worship of the Sun_ 
 
 which, however, would doubtless not prevent him from tole¬ 
 rating many other foreign rites—but he was also in every 
 respect a blind devotee to the old religion. The well-being 
 of the state seemed to him closely dependent on the due 
 administration of the ancient sacra. During a threatening- 
 danger of a war with the German tribes, upon a motion beirm- 
 made in the Roman senate that, according to the ancient prgc- 
 tice, the Sibylline books should be opened and consulted, cer¬ 
 tain senators replied that there was no need of having recourse 
 to them—the emperor’s power was so great that it was unne¬ 
 cessary to consult the gods. The matter remained unnoticed 
 for a time, but it was afterwards called up again. But the 
 emperor, who had been informed of these proceedings in the 
 
 Roman senate, expressed his displeasure, and wrote to them_ 
 
 o 2 
 
196 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER AURELIAN. 
 
 “ I am surprised that you have hesitated so long about con¬ 
 sulting the Sibylline books, as if you were conducting your 
 deliberations in a Christian church, and not in the temple of 
 all the gods.”* He called upon them to support him in every 
 way by the ceremonies of religion ; for it could be no disgrace 
 to conquer with the assistance of the gods. He told them that 
 he was ready to defray all expenses which might be incurred 
 in offering every description of sacrifice, and to furnish cap¬ 
 tives for mat purpose from all nations; consequently lie must 
 have included human sacrifices among the list.t TV e may 
 presume, therefore, that this emperor was not averse to the 
 shedding of the blood of the Christians in honour of his gods. 
 He was°inclined by natural temperament to harsh and violent 
 measures. In the first years of his reign, however, he engaged 
 in no persecution of the Christians. He even showed by his 
 conduct, on one occasion, that he recognised the Christian 
 church as a lawfully existing corporation. A dispute having 
 arisen (a. d. 272) among the Christians of Antioch, as to who 
 should be their bishop, the church applied to the emperor 
 himself, submitting that the bishop Paul of Samosata, who 
 had long since been deposed on account of his doctrinal 
 opinions, but who found a patroness in Queen Zenobia (re¬ 
 cently conquered by Aurelian), should be compelled to resign 
 his office. The emperor decided that he should be bishop who 
 was recognised as such by the bishop of Rome, which was the 
 seat of his own court. It was not till the year 2i5, when 
 busied with warlike enterprises in Thrace, that, in order per¬ 
 haps to show his gratitude to the gods, who, in his opinion, had 
 hitherto so signally favoured him, and to conciliate their good 
 will for the future, lie resolved to dismiss all further scruples, 
 and proceed to extremities against the Christians. But before 
 he could carry his plan into effect he was murdered by con¬ 
 spirators.! 
 
 * This language perhaps may have conveyed a suspicion that there 
 were severaT Christians among the senators themselves, who had an 
 influence on the deliberations. 
 
 f Flav. V'opisc. c. 20. 
 
 X Eusebius says, in his History of the Church, that Aurelian died as 
 he was upon the point of subscribing an edict against the Christians. In 
 the book De mortibus persecutorum it is said the edict had already been 
 issued, but could not reach the more distant provinces until after the 
 death’of the emperor. Others represent the persecution as having 
 
THE CHRISTIANS UNDER DIOCLESIAN. 
 
 197 
 
 For more than fifty years the Christian church enjoyed a 
 state of peace and repose. In the mean while the number of 
 the Christians continued to increase in every rank of society. 
 Fut among the multitude who embraced Christianity at a time 
 when it required no sacrifice to be a Christian, many, without 
 doubt, were but external professors who brought over with 
 them into the Christian church the vices of paganism. With 
 the increased wealth of its members the outward form of the 
 church underwent a change, and in large cities, in the place of 
 the old simple places of assembly, splendid churches began to 
 be erected. 'I lie emperor Dioclesian, who from the year 284 
 vras sole emperor, but who within two years shared the impe¬ 
 rial throne with Maximian Herculius, seemed, to outward ap¬ 
 pearance at least, no otherwise than favourable to the Chris¬ 
 tians. All the stories of persecutions in the earlier years of 
 this emperor are at variance with the records of authentic his¬ 
 tory, and altogether unworthy of credit. Christians held 
 offices of trust in the imperial palace. They were to 
 he found among the principal eunuchs and chamberlains 
 (cubicularii). Still it could not, it is true, be fairly pre¬ 
 sumed, from this circumstance alone, that the emperor was 
 governed by any special regard for the Christians, since from 
 an early period Christians had been members of the imperial 
 household (Caesariani). For if but one individual were such, 
 his zeal and prudence might have a great influence in inducing 
 the majority of his associates to embrace Christianity, or in 
 causing that none but Christians should be chosen to these 
 offices. 
 
 Such, probably, was Lucianus, the chief chamberlain (prae- 
 positus cubiculariorum), a man in high favour with the empe 
 101 , and to whom Theonas, bishop of Alexandria, gave much 
 excellent advice on the duties of his office, in a letter which 
 has come down to our times.* He exhorts him to assume no 
 
 already begun. But it is most probable that the report of Eusebius, 
 who says the least, contains the truth, and the rest was added through 
 exaggeration. 
 
 * This letter was first published in the 3rd vol. of D - Archery’s Spici- 
 legium, f. 297, and again reprinted in Galland’s Bibl. patr. T. IV. It 
 cannot, we must admit, be ascertained who the emperor was that is 
 spoken of in this letter, nor who the bishop Theonas was, by whom it 
 was written. It states how Christianity was glorified by the persecu¬ 
 tions, how its diffusion was promoted by them, and, finally, how peace 
 
198 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS 
 
 merit to himself, because through him many in the palace of 
 the emperor had been brought to a knowledge of the truth; 
 but rather to give thanks to God for having made him the 
 instrument of so good a work, and given him great weight 
 with the emperor, in order that, by his means, the reputation 
 of the Christian name might be promoted. If, however, the 
 bishop urges him to greater zeal and prudence, because the 
 emperor, though not a Christian himself,* yet intrusted to 
 Christians, as his most faithful servants, the care of his life 
 and person, we ought not, from an expression of this kind, to 
 infer too much as to the emperor’s favourable opinion of 
 Christianity. The bishop probably allowed himself to trans¬ 
 fer his own sentiments to the emperor. Indeed, this seems to 
 be the case from his mentioning the fact that many who had 
 entered into the service of the palace as pagans had been con¬ 
 verted by the influence of this Lucian. The possibility of the 
 care of the imperial library being committed to one of the 
 Christian chamberlains f is spoken of as likely to be a very 
 important occurrence. The favoured individual is exhorted to 
 take advantage of the opportunity thus afforded him to dispose 
 the emperor favourably towards Christianity. He was not to 
 show a contempt for pagan literature, but to let it be seen 
 that he was a proficient in it: he was to praise it, and to use 
 it for the emperor’s entertainment. Only he ought at times 
 to introduce some notice of the sacred scriptures, and endea- 
 
 was granted to the church by good princes. Persecutionum procellis 
 velut aurum in fornace expurgatum enituit et ejus veritas ac celsitudo 
 magis semper ac magis splendent, ut jam, pace per bonum principem 
 ecclesiis conccssa, Christianorum opera etiam coram infidelibus luceant. 
 By this prince we might understand Constantine; but if he were 
 intended, the persecution of DioclesiaD, which had so immediately pre¬ 
 ceded, would doubtless have been more distinctly noticed. If, moreover, 
 it had been written subsequently to the final triumph of Christianity, 
 which followed the Dioolesian persecution, the author assuredly would 
 not have employed so indistinct a phraseology as—Quia nos maleficos 
 olirn et omnibus fiagitiis refertos nonnulli priores principes putaverunt. 
 On the other hand, these words suit well to the times of Dioclesian. 
 Besides, the situation of the emperor, which is here the subject of dis¬ 
 course, is by no means such as could apply to the case of Constantine, 
 especially after he had become master of the East. The expression 
 “ pacem concedere,” is so general that it might be properly applied to 
 the tranquil situation which the Christians owed to Dioclesian. 
 
 * Princeps, nondum Christian® religioni adscriptus. 
 
 f For the librarian was still a pagan. 
 
UNDER DIOCLESIAN. 
 
 199 
 
 vour to lead the emperor to remark their superiority. It 
 might so happen, in the course of conversation, that Christ 
 would be mentioned: in that case it might be gradually 
 shown that he is the only true God.* So important did it 
 seem to the'wise bishop to warn against an intemperate zeal, 
 which, by attempting too much at once, might do more harm 
 than good. 
 
 To Roman statesmen the thought would naturally occur, 
 that the ancient political glory of the emperor was intimately 
 connected with the old national worship, and that it was im¬ 
 possible to restore the one without the other. Now, as it was 
 Dioclesian’s wish to revive the original splendour of the 
 empire, it perhaps appeared to him absolutely necessary to 
 infuse new life into the old religion, which was now fast 
 hastening to decay, and to destroy that foreign faith wliich on 
 every side continued to extend itself, and threatened to become 
 supreme and exclusive. In an inscription which belongs to a 
 somewhat later date, the emperor boasts of having suppressed 
 Christianity, while the Christians are charged with bringing 
 on the ruin of the state.f In the edict, too, by which Gale- 
 rius put an end to the persecution which he himself had 
 instigated, he declares that it had been the intention of the 
 emperors to reform and correct matters in accordance with 
 the ancient laws and constitution of the Roman state.;! If, 
 therefore, while the motives which we have already mentioned 
 were sufficient to induce the emperor to enter upon a course of 
 persecution, lie yet abstained from so doing for a considerable 
 period, we must not suppose that the constraining cause was 
 any regard for the rights of man, or for the limits which 
 ought to confine the civil power in matters of conscience. 
 To such ideas he was as much a stranger as the earlier empe¬ 
 rors. How entirely foreign to the views of Dioclesian a 
 recognition of this kind was, is evinced by the principles which 
 he openly avows in a law directed against the Manichaean 
 sect, a.d. 296 ; notwithstanding the allowances that must be 
 made for the peculiar aversion that he entertained for this 
 
 * Insurgere poterit Christi mentio. Explicabitur paulatim ejus sola 
 divinitas. Omnia hacc cum Christi adjutorio provenire possent. 
 
 f Christiani, qui rem publicam evertebant. 
 
 j Nos quidem volueramus juxta leges veteres et publicam disciplinam 
 Komanorum cuncta corrigere. 
 
200 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER 
 
 sect, on account, of its having arisen among his enemies the 
 Persians.^ “ The immortal gods have, by their providence, 
 arranged and established what is right. Many wise and good 
 men aerree that this should be maintained without change. 
 They ought not to be opposed. No new religion ought to 
 presume to censure the old ; for it is the greatest of crimes to 
 overturn what has been once established by our ancestors, and 
 what has supremacy in the state.” Would not the principles 
 here avowed necessarily make Dioclesian an enemy and perse¬ 
 cutor of Christianity also ? f 
 
 But if, during so long a period, he could not bring himself 
 openly to act upon them in this instance, some counteracting 
 cause must have been at work on the other side. Beside the 
 influence which the Christians more or less immediately about 
 his person may have had upon him, he may have been induced 
 to hesitate by reasons similar to those which, in the work 
 De mortibus persecutorum, he is said to have urged upon his 
 son-in-law Galerius, in the conference at Nicomedia (which 
 we shall soon have more particularly to notice). The Christians, 
 he urged, after a long period, had at length become a lawful 
 religious community; they are widely diffused in every part 
 of the empire ; the bloodshed would be profuse, and the public 
 tranquillity was likely to be disturbed; and, finally, the effu¬ 
 sion of blood had hitherto served to advance Christianity 
 rather than to subvert it. Anxious as Dioclesian might be to 
 revive the old Roman religion, yet assuredly he would never 
 have overcome these scruples had not some more powerful 
 influence hurried him on. 
 
 The pagans could not but see that the time when their 
 ancient ceremonies were to cease, and the hated Christianity 
 become predominant, was fast approaching. They would 
 therefore naturally strain every nerve to avert the decisive 
 crisis. The pagan party, to which belonged statesmen, priests, 
 
 * This edict, known already to Iiilarius, author of the Commentary 
 on the Epistles of St. Paul, bears every internal mark of genuineness ; 
 and no motive can be imagined, either in pagan or Christian, for 
 fabricating it. The diffusion of that sect at this earlier period in 
 Africa, which is presupposed in the edict, is a thing by no means im¬ 
 possible. 
 
 t Neque reprehendi a nova vetus religio deberet. Maximi enini 
 criminis est, retractare qua; seme! ab antiauis tractata et definita suut, 
 statuin et cursum tenent et possident. 
 
DIOCLESIAN AXD GALEIUUS. 
 
 201 
 
 and self-styled philosophers like Ilierocles,* wanted only a 
 powerful instrument to carry their schemes into execution. 
 And this they found in Dioclesian’s son-in-law, the Ceesar, 
 Caius Galerius Maximian. This prince had raised himself 
 from obscurity by his warlike talents. Educated in the 
 blindest superstition of heathenism, he was devoted to Ids 
 religion, and moreover attached great virtue to sacrifices and 
 divinations. These ceremonies lie frequently performed in time 
 of war. Whenever, on these occasions, Christian officers were 
 present, they signed themselves with the cross, the symbol of 
 Christ’s victory over the kingdom of darkness, in order to 
 protect themselves against the influence of those hostile (de¬ 
 moniacal) powers, whose agency they believed to be visibly 
 manifested in the pagan worship. 
 
 Now as the Christians saw in paganism not a barely sub¬ 
 jective notion, a work of human imagination or fraud, but a 
 real outward power, hostile to Christianity; f so the pagans 
 beheld, after their manner , in Christianity, a similar power 
 opposed to the operations ami appearances of their own gods. 
 The pagan priests could therefore well say,—the sign of the 
 cross, hateful to the gods, keeps them from being present and 
 from manifesting themselves at the sacrifices and other rites 
 consecrated to their service.^ 
 
 * Not the author of the Commentary on the Golden Verses. 
 
 t In the fourth century, when the triumph of Christianity was already 
 decided, and paganism no longer presented itself to the Christian con¬ 
 sciousness as a formidable power in life, another view of the matter 
 could well be admitted. Thus we find Eusebius of Caesarea saying 
 that the pagan art of divination ought to be traced, not to the influence 
 of the gods, nor even to demons, but to human fraud, which was suffi¬ 
 cient to account for it altogether. After having spoken of the deceptive 
 arts of pagan priests and magicians which had been exposed in the 
 times of the Emperor Constantine, he says, T aura. ns xa) orXiiu rourat 
 
 in W'jvtiyuv, tlaroi civ fjjri Siol; iTvai. fjotiv ba.ip.ottt.; rob; rat Ku.ru. aroXiii 
 
 %/>7lurri(>lat alnouirXatnt S's xtti ttararnt dvbcav yonrav. Euseb. Pl’aeparat. 
 evangel. 1. IV. c. 2. 
 
 X This is the view of the matter which presents itself to our minds, 
 particularly when we compare the following passages:—Lactant. Insti- 
 tut. 1. IV. c. 27 ; dc mortibus persecutoruin, c. 10 ; and Euseb. vit. Con¬ 
 stantin. 1. II. c. 50. In the first-mentioned passage it is said, Cum 
 Diis suis immolant, si assistat aliquis signatam frontem gerens, sacra 
 nullo modo litant. Nec responsa potest consultus reddere vates. Et 
 luce saepe causa praecipua justitiam persequendi malis regibus fuit. 
 Aruspices conquerentes, profanos homines sacris intcresse, egerunt prin- 
 
202 
 
 THE CHRISTIANS UNDER 
 
 There were at this time many Christians in the military 
 service of the empire, both in the higher and lower ranks ; and 
 as yet they had never been compelled to do anything contrary 
 to their conscience. This is evident, not only from Eusebius’ 
 narrative, but from a particularly remarkable incident, which 
 took place in 295.* At Teveste, in Numidia, a youth of the 
 name of Maximilianus was brought before the proconsul as 
 fit for military duty. But as he came up, and was about to 
 be measured to see if his height reached the standard of the 
 service, he exclaimed—“ I cannot serve as a soldier ; I cannot 
 do what is wrong; I am a Christian.” The proconsul took 
 no notice of these words, but calmly ordered him to be 
 measured. As he proved to be of the standard height, the 
 proconsul, without noticing his confession of Christianity, said 
 to him, “ Take the badge of the service,t and be a soldier.” 
 The young man replied, “ I shall take no such badge; I wear 
 already the badge of Christ, my God.” Upon this the pro- 
 consul, who was a pagan, said, with a sarcastic threat, “ I will 
 instantly send you to your Christ.” “ Would you but do that,” 
 the youth observed, “ you would confer on me the highest 
 honour.” Without further remark the proconsul ordered the 
 leaden badge of the service to be hung round his neck. The 
 young man resisted, and, in the ardour of his youthful faith, 
 exclaimed, “ I accept not the badge of the service of this 
 
 cipes suos in furorem. True, it might be said, the Christians had only 
 transferred their own personal sentiments to the pagans, and the legend 
 respecting the origin of this persecution had thus arisen ; but there is no 
 good reason whatever for calling in question this explanation, derived 
 from the very character of the times, and which suits the views both of 
 Christians and pagans, which mutually limited each other with regard to 
 the relation of their religious positions one to another. Thus the Christians 
 appeal to the testimony of their adversary, Porphyry, to show that the 
 power of Christianity had hindered the influence of those demoniacal 
 powers in paganism; for Porphyry complains that a pestilence in some 
 city or other could not be arrested because the appearance and healing 
 influence of Esculapius was scared away by the worship of Jesus. Por¬ 
 phyry’s language in his book against Christianity is as follows:—Nuw 
 
 2s Sciv/u.d^ou&iv, si tmtovtuv itHm xars/Auips t2v toXiv b vo<ro;, ” Airxkryxiou [tiv 
 'vxilvif/.ict; kou tcjv cjXXuv 3s ujv O’javii. 'lrtffou ydg TtfJjUfJivov o’jOifuas Tti 
 
 3 ssuv Inujouia.; ifiXiia.; ricrBiro. Euseb. Praiparat. evangel. 1. V. c. 1. 
 
 * The time can be definitely determined, since the mention of the 
 consuls in the actis Maximiliatii, a report drawn up by an eye-witness 
 furnishes a certain chronological datum. 
 
 f Signaculum militise. 
 
DIOCLESIAN AND G ALKR ITTS. 
 
 203 
 
 world, and if you hang it about me I shall break it off, for it 
 is useless. I cannot wear this lead on my neck after having 
 once received the saving token of my Lord Jesus Christ, 
 whom you know not, but who suffered for our salvation.” 
 The proconsul endeavoured to explain to him that he might 
 be a soldier and a Christian at the same time ; that, in fact, 
 Christians were to be found performing military service with¬ 
 out scruple in the body guard of all the four Caesars, Diocle- 
 sian, Maximian Ilerculius, Constantius Chlorus, and Galerius. 
 But as the youth of one-and-twenty years could not consent to 
 yield up his own conviction to the example of others, he was 
 sentenced to death ; * yet in the sentence nothing was said of 
 his Christianity: his refusal to do military service is alone 
 assigned as the reason for his punishment.f Here, then, is 
 good evidence that the soldiers were at liberty openly to pro¬ 
 fess Christianity, and that, if they only did their duty in other 
 respects, they were not forced to take any part in the pagan 
 ceremonies. 
 
 However, a few years only elapsed after this occurrence 
 before the case was altered. Religious and political motives 
 induced Galerius, in the first place, to remove from the army 
 all who refused to sacrifice. It was easy for him to procure 
 an order to be sent to the army requiring every soldier to join 
 in the sacrificial rites. Possibly the celebration of the third 
 lustrum for the elevation of Maximianus Ilerculius to the 
 dignity of Caesar and Augustus J was chosen as a fit occasion 
 for the issuing of such an order to the army, because such 
 festivals were usually celebrated with sacrifices and sacrificial 
 banquets, in which all the soldiers were required to partici¬ 
 pate. Many gave up their commissions,§ and soldiers of all 
 
 * He received his sentence to death with an expression of thanks to 
 God. To the Christian bystanders, when he was led away from them to 
 execution, he said, “ My dearest brethren, strive with all your power 
 that the vision of the Lord may be vouchsafed to you, and that such a 
 crown may be bestowed on you also.” And with a countenance of joy 
 he regarded his father, who would not persuade him to act contrary to 
 his conscience, begging of him to present the new garment which hePad 
 had made for him against his admission into the military service to the 
 soldier who was to execute the sentence of death on him. 
 
 f Eo quod indevoto animo sacramentum militia; recusaverit, gladio 
 animadverti placuit. 
 
 Dies natalis Cmsaris. § As Eusebius relates, 1. VIII. c. 4. 
 
204 
 
 THE DIOCLESIAN 
 
 ranks, from the highest to the lowest, quitted the service that 
 they might remain steadfast to their faith. Only a few were 
 sentenced to death; perhaps none except where some peculiar 
 circumstances of the case furnished a pretext, at least in 
 appearance, not only for dismissing them from the service 
 as Christians, but also for punishing them as guilty of treason. 
 Such as were not careful to observe moderation both of 
 language and demeanour in expressing their honest indigna¬ 
 tion at the unrighteous demand, might easily, under the mili¬ 
 tary code, be represented as refractory subjects. An instance 
 of this is afforded by the case of Marcellus the centurion, who 
 was serving with the army at Tingis (now Tangiers), in 
 Africa. 
 
 While the legion was celebrating the festival in honour of 
 the Caesar, after the pagan fashion, with sacrifices and banquet- 
 ings, the centurion Marcellus rose up from the soldiers’ table, 
 and throwing down his staff’ of office, his belt, and his arms, 
 exclaimed— £i From this moment I cease to serve your empe¬ 
 ror as a soldier. I despise the worship of your gods of wood 
 and stone, which are deaf and dumb idols. Since the service 
 involves the obligation of sacrificing to the gods and to the 
 emperors, I throw down my staff and belt, renounce the stand¬ 
 ards, and am a soldier no longer.”* All this was now put 
 together, and Marcellus was condemed to death for having 
 publicly cast off the badges of the service, and indulging before 
 all the people in abusive language towards the gods and the 
 emperors. 
 
 These were the first tokens of the persecution. Dioclesian 
 could not, for several years, be induced to proceed any farther. 
 But at last, in the winter of the year 303, Galerius came to Nico- 
 media, in Bithynia, on a visit to his aged and infirm father-in- 
 law, who had already formed the design of resigning the imperial 
 dignity. On this occasion Galerius, seconded by many zealous 
 pagans among the state officers, employed all his arcs of per¬ 
 suasion in recommending a general extermination of the 
 Christians. At last Dioclesian yielded ; and one of the great 
 pagan festivals, the Terminalia, which occurred on the 22nd 
 of February, was fixed for the beginning of the persecution. 
 At the first dawn of day, the magnificent church in that city 
 
 Ecce, projicio vitem et cingulum, renuntio signis et militare recuso. 
 
persecution; 
 
 205 
 
 (which was the residence of the emperor) was broken open, the 
 copies ot the Bible found in it were burned, and the whole 
 church given up to plunder, and afterwards destroyed. The 
 next day an edict was published to the following effect: 
 
 I he assembling of the Christians, for the purpose of religious 
 worship, is to be forbidden ; the Christian churches are to 
 be pulled down, and all copies of the Bible burned; those 
 who hold places of honour and rank must either abjure the 
 faith, or be degraded ; in judicial proceedings the torture may 
 be used against Christians, whatsoever their rank may be; 
 those of the lower rank holding no official appointment are to 
 be divested of their rights as citizens and freemen ; and slaves, 
 so long- as they shall remain Christians, are to be incapable of 
 receiving their freedom.” To what extent Christians in 
 humble life were to lose the enjoyment of their rights as free¬ 
 men was not clearly defined, but free scope was left for apply¬ 
 ing the law to particular cases. It clearly appears from the 
 edict by which the emperor Constantine afterwards annulled 
 all the legal consequences of this persecution in the East, that 
 in some instances freeborn Christians were made slaves, and 
 put to the lowest and most degrading- of servile employments, 
 for which they were least suited by their former habits of life.* 
 
 * Euseb. vit. Constantin. 1. II. c. 32 et seq. To obtain as full know¬ 
 ledge as possible of what this edict contained it is necessary to compare 
 together both the two incomplete and inaccurate reports of it in Euse¬ 
 bius (Hist. Eccles. 1. VIII. c. 2), and in the hook “de Mortib.,” and the 
 translation of ltufinus. The prohibition of assemblies for religious wor¬ 
 ship is not indeed expressly mentioned in any one of these authors ; but 
 from the nature of the case it is tacitly implied by the edict itself. It is 
 also clear, from the credible and official records of the first period of the 
 persecutions in Proconsular Africa, that such a prohibition was positively 
 expressed. The greatest obscurity is in the passage in Eusebius, the true 
 meaning of which has occasioned no little dispute. T oug lv oixzn'ai; il sn 
 Wlfhivoilv It rri rou X£i<7<7ia.tKrfJ.ov vr^oS-iirii, tMuSifia; trrsoutrSca. By lv olxirlui; 
 nothing else, according to the usage of the language, can be understood 
 than men of the labouring class,—slaves. To give any meaning, there¬ 
 fore, to the passage, we must look round for some other interpretation of 
 the word sx iuSioU than that which first presents itself. By the phrase 
 “deprived of their freedom,’ might be understood “thrown into chains 
 and imprisoned.” (See above, p. 192, the edict of Valerian against the 
 Cfcsarianos.) The safest course, however, is to follow Bufinus, who 
 might have seen the original edict:—“Siquis servorum permansisset 
 Christianus, libertatcm consequi non posset.” If this is right, the trans¬ 
 lation of Eusebius, it must be admitted, is very defective. 
 
206 
 
 THE DIOCLESIAN 
 
 A Christian of noble rank suffered himself to be hurried by 
 inconsiderate zeal into a violation of that precept of the gospel 
 which enjoins respect towards all in authority. He publicly 
 tore down the edict, and contemptuously tore it in pieces, ex¬ 
 claiming, “ Behold, it is new victories over the Goths and 
 Sarmatians that are posted up! The emperor treats the 
 Christians, his own subjects, no better than if they were con¬ 
 quered Goths and Sarmatians.” Welcome was the occasion 
 thus furnished by the delinquent himself for condemning him 
 to death, not as a Christian, but as one who had insulted the 
 imperial majesty. 
 
 The impression produced by this edict must have been the 
 more tenable from the fact of its being published in many of 
 the provinces about the time, and in several districts on the 
 very day, of the Easter festival.* It is evident that the plan 
 was totally to extirpate Christianity. There was something 
 novel in the determination to deprive the Christians of their 
 religious writings. It differed from the mode of proceeding 
 in the former persecutions, in which it was hoped to suppress 
 the sect by removing its teachers and guides. The importance 
 of these documents, both for preserving and for propagating 
 the Christian faith, must now have been understood. And 
 there can be no doubt that the destruction of every copy of the 
 Bible (had such a thing been possible) would have proved 
 more effectual than the removal of those living witnesses 
 of the faith, whose deaths did but serve to raise up many more 
 
 * Eusebius and Rufinus place the publication of the edict in the month 
 of March, which harmonizes well with its first publication at the impe¬ 
 rial residence, Nicomedia. In Egypt, according to Coptic accounts, it 
 was published on the first of Parmuthi, i. e., by Ideler's tables, the 27th 
 of March; which also harmonizes with the rest. See Zoega Catalog, 
 codd. Copt. Romm, 1810, f. 25, of the fragments of the Coptic acta Mar- 
 tyrum, published by Georgi, Romm. 1793, Prmfat. 109, where Georgi 
 proposes an unnecessary emendation, and other passages. VV hen these 
 Coptic accounts, however, which contain a good deal that is fabulous, 
 represent the persecution as following immediately after the victory 
 over the Persians, to express Dioclesian’s thanks to the gods for the 
 success of his arms, this must be an anachronism ; unless the first perse¬ 
 cution among the soldiers was confounded with this second one. W hat 
 is stated in these Coptic records about the cause of the persecution,— 
 viz., that a Christian metropolitan had released the son of the Persian 
 king Sapor, who had been committed to him for safe keeping,—hardly 
 admits of being reconciled in any way with the history as known to us. 
 
PERSECUTION. 
 
 207 
 
 to supply their place. On the other hand, the plan of de¬ 
 stroying every existing copy of the scriptures, could it have 
 been carried out, would have cut off the very source from 
 which true Christianity and the very life of the church was 
 continually springing with fresh and invincible energy. The 
 preachers of the gospel, the bishops and clergy, might be 
 executed; it was all to no purpose, so long as this book, 
 by which new teachers could always be formed, remained in 
 the hands of the Christians. The transmission of Christianity 
 was not in itself, it is true, inseparably and necessarily con¬ 
 nected with the letter of the scriptures. Written, not on tables 
 of stone, but on the living tablets of the heart, the divine 
 doctrine, once lodged in the human soul, could by its own 
 divine power preserve and propagate itself for ever. But 
 exposed to the manifold sources of corruption which exist in 
 human nature, Christianity, without the well-spring of scrip¬ 
 ture to recur to and recover its purity, would, as all history 
 teaches, have been quickly overwhelmed under a load of 
 falsehoods and corruptions, and would soon have ceased to 
 be any longer recognisable. But was it possible for the 
 arrogant wilfulness of man actually to accomplish this cun¬ 
 ningly devised plan for the suppression of Christianity? 
 The arm of despotism might disregard all private rights, 
 but could it reach so tar as to grasp and destroy everv 
 copy of the scriptures, not only those which were deposited in 
 the churches, but those also which existed in many a private 
 dwelling ? The kingdom of lies, true to its character, could 
 indeed blindly imagine that nothing could escape its investiga¬ 
 tion, and that, by tire and sword, it could destroy what was 
 protected by a higher power and providence. An infatuated 
 zeal for the maintenance of the old religion was carried to such 
 lengths by many, that they would fain have seen burnt with 
 the holy scriptures of the Christians some of the noblest 
 monuments of their own ancient literature. They were ready 
 to have everything destroyed which could be used by Chris¬ 
 tians as a testimony against paganism, and as a means of 
 transition to their own faith. They called for a law which 
 should order the destruction of all the writings of antiquity 
 which did such good service for the Christians.* It is then 
 
 * This is said by the North African writer Arnobius, who wrote in 
 these times, in defence of Christianity, his disputationes adversus gentes. 
 
208 
 
 THE DIOCLESIAN 
 
 easily conceivable that, where among the governors and pro¬ 
 vincial magistrates were found individuals of this stamp, or men 
 who would sooner do too much than too little to gain the 
 emperor’s favour, the execution of this first edict for the 
 surrender of the scriptures and the suspension of all assemblies 
 for religious worship would of itself furnish occasion for the 
 exercise of every species of oppression and cruelty upon the 
 Christians, and the more especially as this edict rendered 
 Christians of all ranks and conditions liable to the torture in 
 judicial investigations. 
 
 But there were also magistrates of an entirely different 
 temper. These endeavoured to soften, as far as possible, the 
 rigour of these measures, and executed them with as much 
 lenity as they could, without an open violation of the imperial 
 edict. Not only did they willingly allow themselves to be 
 deceived, but they even suggested means of evading the edict, 
 by an apparent compliance with its requisitions. Mensurius, 
 bishop of Carthage, had taken the precaution to remove all 
 manuscripts of the Bible from the church at Carthage to his 
 own house, as a place of greater security, leaving in their place 
 certain writings of heretics. When the search-officers arrived, 
 they seized the latter, asking no further questions. These, 
 too, were religious writings of Christians,—and nothing was 
 said in the edict as to what sacred writings were intended, nor 
 of what Christian party. Certain senators at Carthage, how¬ 
 ever, exposed the artifice to Annulinus the proconsul, and 
 advised him to cause search to be made in the house of the 
 bishop, where the whole would be found. But the proconsul, 
 —who, it should seem therefore, was willing to be deceived,— 
 declined to follow the advice.* When Secundus, a Numidian 
 bishop, had refused to surrender the sacred scriptures, the 
 officers of justice begged of him to give them then some use¬ 
 less fragments, or anything he pleased.'f Such, very probably, 
 
 Lib. III. c. 7 : Cum alios audiam mussitare indignanter et dicere: opor- 
 tere, per Senatum aboleantur ut htec scripta, quibus Christiana religio 
 comprobetur et vetustatis opprimatur auctoritas. Arnobius remarks in 
 objection to this proposal, I ntercipere scripta et publicatam velle sub¬ 
 merges lectionem, non est Deos defendere, sed veritatis testificationem 
 fimere. 
 
 * Augustin, brevicul. collat. c. Donatistis, d. III. c. 13. Optat. 
 Milev., ed du Pin, p. 174. 
 
 f Aliqua tzfioXa aut quodcunque 
 
PERSECUTION. 
 
 209 
 
 may have been the meaning also of the proconsul’* w + 
 
 q r ion to 
 
 writings?”* So too tl U n ° + - U P i' our superfluous 
 
 Felix,^the Africa’,, Mrimp ’“why" do voaTf 0 "'”" *?** * 
 sacred writings ?_but perhaps you have none °-wSeridemiy 
 shapeci with a view of suggesting the desired reply, f 
 
 false zeal of enthusiastic and excited feeling, and the ’true 
 
 of torture and death, and gave up tl.eir co,ILs of ,l,e Bibl‘7 
 
 inarket^ace mm T d he t y C h oramitte J to the flames in the public 
 name of TrJn ihe!,e ’ who were designated afterwards by the 
 church oh 1 ° U ' S ’ w ® re r ® m °ved from the communion of the 
 North a ,° thers ’~ and SUch instailces were most frequent in 
 
 sSii=S:S“=S5l?S 
 
 fully spurned the means of evasion which the humalStv ofT" 
 magistrates furnished them with r n c u ‘ am v °* the 
 
 in the cells of their • ' ere ambitious of the honour which, 
 
 ambiguity; so ;aht ri - ' CU tl^' tioub , tI l ;ss 1tith intentional 
 
 .be sacred Writings of the ctiTtS $£*15? “ «“ 
 
 ' acta Jbelicis iii Iiuinart, 
 
 VOL. J. 
 
 P 
 
210 
 
 THE DIOCLETIAN 
 
 to receive there.* Among the bishops even there were indi¬ 
 viduals who approved of every mode of confessing the faith, 
 and countenanced in others the same fanatic zeal by which 
 they were themselves possessed. Others, however, endea¬ 
 voured to unite to steadfastness in the faith, Christian 
 prudence and sobriety,—and at the head of these was the 
 bishop Mensurius, of Carthage. He would not consent to 
 give the honour of martyrdom to those who had themselves 
 invited the pagan magistrates to do their worst. In these 
 opposite tendencies of the religious spirit we discern the germ 
 of those divisions which, after peace from without had been 
 once more restored, broke out within the bosom of the North- 
 African church. 
 
 Let us now proceed to contemplate in detail some examples, 
 which we have drawn from authentic sources, of the power of 
 Christian faith and the intrepidity of Christian courage. In an 
 inland town of Numidia a band of Christians, among whom was 
 a boy of the tenderest age, were seized in the house of a church- 
 reader, where they had assembled under the direction of a priest, 
 for the purpose of reading the scriptures and celebrating the 
 communion. They were brought to Carthage to be arraigned 
 before the tribunal of the proconsul, singing hymns to the 
 praise of God all the way. Several were put to the torture, 
 for the purpose of extorting confessions from all. One in the 
 midst of his sufferings cried out, “Ye do wrong, unhappy 
 men ; you lacerate the innocent. We are no murderers,—we 
 have never defrauded any man. 0 God, have mercy on us! 
 I thank Thee, O Lord,—give me strength to suffer in Thy 
 name. Deliver Thy servants out of the bondage of this 
 world—I thank Thee, and yet am unable to thank Thee—to 
 glory ! I thank the God of the kingdom. It appears,—the 
 eternal, the incorruptible kingdom! Oh, Lord! Christ, we 
 are Christians, we are Thy servants; Thou art our hope.” 
 While he thus prayed, the proconsul said to him, “ You 
 should have obeyed the law of the emperor.” He replied, with 
 
 * Vid. Augustin, brevicul. collat. c. Donatistis, d. III. c. 13, T. IX. 
 opp. ed. Benedictin. f. 56S: Quidam facinorosi arguebantur et fisci 
 debitores, qui occasione persecutionis vel carere vellent onerosa multis 
 debitis vita, vel purgare se putarent et quasi abluere facinora sua, vel 
 certe adquirere pecuniaui et in custodia deliciis perfrui. De obsequio 
 Christianoruxn. 
 
PERSECUTION. 
 
 211 
 
 a strong- spirit, though weak and exhausted in body, “ I 
 reverence no other law but that of God which I have learned. 
 For this law I am willing to die. In this law I am made 
 perfect. There is no other.” In the midst of his tortures 
 another cried out, “Help, 0 Christ! I pray Thee have pity 
 on me—preserve my soul, and let it not be confounded. O 
 give me power to suffer.” When the reader in whose house 
 the assembly was held was told by the proconsul, “ You ought 
 not to have received them,” he replied, under the rack, “ I 
 could not do otherwise than receive my brethren.” “ But the 
 emperor’s command,” said the proconsul, “should have been 
 of more consequence to you.” “God,” he replied, “is 
 greater than the emperor.” “Have you in your house,” 
 demanded the proconsul, “any sacred writings?” “Such 
 have I,” he replied, “ but they are in my heart.” Among 
 the prisoners was a Christian maiden, named Victoria, whose 
 father and brother were still pagans. The brother, Fortuna- 
 tianus, had come for the purpose of persuading her to renounce 
 her relig-ion, and thus procuring her release. When she stead¬ 
 fastly declared that she was a Christian, her brother pretended 
 that she was not in her right mind. But said she, “ This is 
 my mind , and I have never altered it. Upon the proconsul 
 asking her if she would not go with her brother, she replied, 
 “ No, for I am a Christian, and they are my brethren who 
 obey God’s commands.” As to the lad, Ililarianus, the pro- 
 consul supposed he would be easily intimidated, by threats; 
 but even in the child the power of God proved mighty. “ Do 
 what you please,” he replied ; “ I am a Christian.”* 
 
 The persecution once begun, it was impossible to stop half¬ 
 way. The measures already adopted having failed of their 
 object, it became necessary to take others. The first step of 
 attacking the Christians was the most difficult; the second 
 came easily and quickly. Certain occurrences, moreover, had 
 happened, which tended to place the Christians in an unfa¬ 
 vourable light, or Avhich at least could easily be made use of 
 
 The sources are the Acta Saturnini, Dativi et aliorum in Africa. 
 Baluz Miscell. T\ II. lluinart, in the above-cited collection of Du Pin. 
 It is true the report has not been preserved in its simple, original form ; 
 hut with an introduction, running remarks, and a conclusion, written by 
 some Donatist. let the acta procousularia, which form the ground¬ 
 work, may still be easily recognised. 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 THE DIOCLESIAN 
 
 to such an end. A fire had broken out in the imperial palace 
 of Nicomedia: it was quite natural to ascribe such an occur¬ 
 rence to the desire of revenge among the Christians,—and the 
 accusation may even have had some grounds, without involv¬ 
 ing the whole Christian church in the disgrace. In so large 
 a body as the Christians were, some might perhaps have 
 allowed themselves to be seduced by passion, which they 
 would palliate by the plea of religious zeal, into a forgetfulness 
 of w hat manner of spirit became them as disciples of Christ. 
 Certain it is, however, that this charge against the Christians 
 was never substantiated. The sensitive author of the work 
 on the Judgments which befel the Persecutors maintains 
 that the fire was kindled by Galerius himself, to give him an 
 opportunity for accusing the Christians,—a statement which 
 on his unsupported authority cannot be received. The 
 emperor Constantine ascribes the fire to lightning, and looks 
 upon it as a judgment of God. The truth is, as Eusebius 
 candidly admits, the real cause was never ascertained. 
 Enough, however, that the Christians were accused of con¬ 
 spiring against the emperors, and multitudes of them thrown 
 into prison, without distinction as to those who were or were 
 not obnoxious to suspicion. The most cruel tortures were 
 resorted to for the purpose of extorting a confession ; but in 
 vain. Many were burned to death, beheaded, or drowned. It 
 is true that, fourteen days after the first, a second fire broke out, 
 which, however, was extinguished without damage, a circum¬ 
 stance which strengthens the supposition that it was the work 
 of an incendiary.* 
 
 Some disturbances which, soon after this event, arose in 
 Armenia and Syria, afforded new occasion of political jealousy 
 against the Christians. The clergy, as the heads of the party, 
 were particularly viewed with suspicion. Under this pretext 
 an edict was issued, ordering all the clerical order to be 
 seized and thrown into chains. Thus in a short time the 
 prisons were filled with persons of this class. We have seen 
 on various occasions, how strong was the inclination to fasten 
 
 * Lactantius (de mortib.l relates this. It is mentioned by no other 
 author. But Lactantius, who probably resided himself at that time at 
 Nicomedia, would be more familiar with the particulars of these events 
 than others. Yet it is possible he may have been deceived by some 
 rumour then current in the city. 
 
PERSECUTION. 
 
 21.3 
 
 charges of a political character upon the Christians; nor 
 were the Christians always as careful to avoid giving even 
 apparent ground for such charges as their enemies were ready 
 to bring against them. A young Christian from Egypt, who 
 had been apprehended at Ctesarea in Palestine, being asked 
 by the Roman proconsul, of what country he was, "replied, 
 “ I am ot Jerusalem, which lies towards the rising sun, the 
 city of the saints.” The Roman, who perhaps was not aware 
 that such a place existed as the earthly Jerusalem, which 
 probably was only known to him by its Roman name, iElia 
 Capitolina,—and who was still more ignorant of the heavenly 
 Jerusalem,—immediately concluded that the Christians had 
 founded somewhere in the East a city, which they intended to 
 make the central point of a general insurrection. The matter 
 appeared to him one of grave importance, and he proceeded to 
 put many questions to the prisoner under torture.* Procopius, 
 a priest of Palestine, being called upon to sacrifice, declared 
 that he knew of only one God, to whom men were bound to 
 bring such offerings as he would accept. Being then required 
 to offer his libation to the four sovereigns of the empire, the 
 two Augusti and the two Caesars, he made answer,—doubtless 
 to show that men are bound to acknowledge but one God as 
 their Lord,—in the words of the Homeric verse, <c The 
 government of many is not good ; let there be one ruler, one 
 king.”t And this was construed into a political offence, as if 
 he meant to censure the existing Tetrarchy.J 
 
 All the prisons being now filled with Christians of the 
 spiritual order, a new edict appeared, commanding that such 
 ot the prisoners as were willing to sacrifice should be set 
 free, and that the rest should by every means be compelled to 
 offer incense. This was followed at last, in 304, by a fourth 
 and still more rigorous edict, which extended the same injunc¬ 
 tion to the whole body of Christians.§ In the cities where the 
 edict was most strictly executed, public proclamation w r as 
 made through the streets, that men, women, and children 
 should all repair to the temples. Every individual was sum¬ 
 moned by name from lists previously made out; at the city 
 gates all were subjected to a rigid examination, and such as 
 
 * Euseb. do martyrib. Palscstinse, c. 9. 
 
 f Ovx dyuS/iv mXuxoifxv'iy- il 5 xoigavos ‘iaru, iT; BurtXsu?. Illias II. 204. 
 
 I Euseb. (le martyrib. Palsest. c. 1. § L. c. c. .3. 
 
214 
 
 THE DIOCLESIAN PERSECUTION. 
 
 were found to be Christians were immediately secured. At 
 Alexandria the very pagans concealed the persecuted Chris¬ 
 tians in their houses, and many chose rather to lose both their 
 property and their liberty, than to betray those who had taken 
 refuge with them.* Sentence of death , it is true, was not 
 formally pronounced on the refractory, but it is only natural 
 to suppose that an edict which authorized the employment of 
 every means to compel the Christians to sacrifice, would, even 
 more than an unconditional decree of death, expose them to 
 every cruelty which the fanaticism of a governor, or his wish 
 to court the imperial favour, might dispose him to inflict. 
 Each one, there is no doubt, felt quite sure that he would never 
 be called to account for any excesses he committed against 
 the Christians. Already did the persecutors fondly imagine 
 that their triumph over Christianity was sure. Already to 
 the other honorary titles of the Augusti was added the glory 
 of having extinguished the Christian superstition and restored 
 the worship of the gods. “ Amplificato per orientem et occi- 
 dentem imperio Romano, et nomine Christianorum deleto, qui 
 rempublicam evertebant. Superstitione Christiana ubique 
 deleta et cultu Deorum propagato.” Yet at the very time 
 they were thus triumphing, Providence was already preparing 
 the circumstances which were destined to effect a change 
 in the situation of the Christians. 
 
 One of the four rulers, Constantius Chlorus, who, with the 
 title of Caesar, held the government of Gaul, Britain, and 
 Spain, possessed naturally a mild and humane disposition, 
 averse to persecutions. He was moreover, though not him¬ 
 self a decided Christian, evidently favourably disposed towards 
 Christianity and its professors ; whether, as Eusebius affirms, 
 because he really perceived the vanity of paganism, and with¬ 
 out being a Christian was an upright monotheist,—or whether, 
 as is more probable, he was, like Alexander Severus, an 
 eclectic in religion. Those Christians about his person who 
 continued steadfast in their faith he treated with special 
 regard and confidence; it being a common remark with him, 
 that one who has proved unfaithful to his God would be still 
 less likely to remain faithful to his prince. The anecdote, 
 however, which Eusebius gives of his putting their constancy 
 to the proof, does not appear very probable. As he could 
 * Athanas. Hist. Arianor. ad Monachos, s. 64. 
 
LAST OUTBREAK OF PERSECUTION. 
 
 215 
 
 not, as a Caesar, openly disobey the edict that had been issued 
 by the Augusti, lie suffered some churches to be pulled down 
 in order to save appearances. In Gaul, where he usually 
 resided, the Christians enjoyed perfect liberty and repose, 
 while the persecution was raging in other provinces.* In 
 Spain he may not have been able to effect so much; but it is 
 certain that in no one of his provinces was the persecution of 
 the same character as in other districts of the empire. The 
 favourable disposition of this emperor to the Christians was 
 soon able to befriend them more effectually, when, in 305, 
 Dioclesian and Herculius having abdicated, he was 
 elevated, in conjunction with Galerius, to the dignity of 
 Augustus. 
 
 On the other hand there was now added to the line of the 
 Caesars a man who, in blind heathenish superstition and 
 cruelty, perfectly resembled the emperor Galerius, who 
 nominated him to that station. This was Caius Galerius 
 Valerius Maximinus. It is natural to suppose that in the 
 provinces committed to his care,—Syria, with the adjacent 
 parts of the Roman empire, and Egypt,—the persecutions 
 would be renewed with increased violence. At times, it is 
 true, men grew weary of their own rage, when they saw that 
 their efforts were to no purpose. The execution of the 
 imperial edict flagged awhile, persecution slept, and the 
 Christians enjoyed a temporary respite. But as soon as their 
 enemies perceived that they were recovering breath, maddened 
 to think they had not succeeded in extinguishing Christianity 
 and restoring Paganism to its ancient splendour, their fury 
 broke out afresh, and a new storm arose, more violent than 
 ever. Thus, at length, in the year 308, and about the eighth 
 year of the persecution, after much effusion of blood, which 
 in the provinces governed by Maximinus had lasted from the 
 time of his accession, a season of tranquillity had commenced. 
 The Christians who had been condemned to labour in the 
 mines were treated with greater lenity and forbearance. But 
 all at once the Christians were startled out of their transient 
 repose by a furious storm. A new and more rigorous com- 
 
 * So says tlie work De mortib. perscutor. c. 16, and a letter of the 
 Donatists to the Emperor Constantine, in which, on this very account, 
 they demanded Gallic bishops for their judges. Optat. Milev. de schis- 
 mate, Donatistar. 1.1. c. 22. 
 
216 
 
 EDICT OF TOLERATION. 
 
 mand was addressed by the emperor to all the officers of his 
 government, from the highest to the lowest, whether in the 
 civil or in the military service, directing that the fallen 
 temples of the gods should be restored, that all free men and 
 women, all slaves, and even little children, should sacrifice 
 and partake of what was offered at the altars of the gods. 
 All provisions in the market were to be sprinkled with water 
 or wine that had been used in the sacrifices, in order by this 
 means to force the Christians into contact with idolatrous 
 offerings—to such length did fanaticism and despotic power 
 proceed ! New tortures and fresh bloodshed were the con¬ 
 sequences. 
 
 But again there was a season of respite, which lasted to the 
 beginning of the year 310. Christians confined to the mines 
 in Palestine were allowed to meet together for worship, but 
 the governor of the province, having in one of his visitations 
 observed this, reported it to the emperor. The prisoners were 
 henceforth kept apart and put to severe labour. Thirty-nine 
 confessors, who after much suffering were enjoying a season 
 of rest, were beheaded at once. This was the last"blood that 
 flowed in this persecution, tranquillity having for some time 
 been already restored to the Christians in the West. For the 
 original instigator of the persecution, the emperor Galerius, 
 being softened by a severe and painful disease, the consequence 
 of his excesses, had perhaps been led to think that the God 
 of the Christians might, after all, be a powerful being, who in 
 his anger had punished him, and whose favour he must there¬ 
 fore endeavour to conciliate. At any rate he could hardly 
 fail to be struck with the fact that all his bloody and violent 
 proceedings had done no material injury to Christianity. 
 At all events, in the year 311 appeared the remarkable edict 
 which put an end to the sanguinary conflict of the Christian 
 Church with the Roman empire. 
 
 It declared that it had been the intention of the emperors 
 fo bring back the Christians to the religion of their fathers, 
 in departing from which they had invented laws according to 
 their own fancy, and given birth to a multitude of sects. The 
 reproach so frequently brought against the Christians of this 
 age was repeated by the edict: “ Behold, since you have left 
 the unity of ancient tradition, the authority of the fathers, 
 you have been led entirely by your own caprice, and have 
 
WRITINGS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 217 
 
 fallen from one innovation into another; hence the multitude 
 of your sects.”* But as the majority of the Christians, in 
 spite of every measure to the contrary, persevered in their 
 opinions, and it had now become evident that they could not 
 consistently worship their own Deity, and at the same time 
 pay homage to the gods, the emperors had resolved to extend 
 to them their wonted clemency. They might once more be 
 Christians, and would be allowed to hold their assemblies, 
 provided only they did nothing contrary to the good order of 
 the Roman state ( ita ut ne quid contra disciplinam ay ant) ; j- 
 “ let them now, therefore, after experiencing this proof of 
 our indulgence, pray to their God for our prosperity, for the 
 well-being of the state, and for their own ; that the state may, 
 in all respects, continue to be well maintained, and they 
 themselves may be enabled to live quietly in their own 
 homes.” 
 
 Attacks on Christianity. Defence of Christianity against 
 
 these Writings. 
 
 While the ancient world, in the hope cf maintaining its 
 own religious foundation, was endeavouring to suppress 
 Christianity by force, the learning and civilization of the 
 age enlisted itself in the same cause, and took up the contest 
 with its writings. Intellectual weapons combined with phy¬ 
 sical violence in attacking the new principle which had begun 
 to reveal its power on the principles of human conduct. In 
 these literary attacks upon Christianity, the relation both of 
 the religious and moral principles which then actuated society, 
 and also of its several intellectual tendencies—such as we have 
 already set them forth in the Introduction—to this new prin¬ 
 ciple which was now entering the life of humanity, may be 
 easily recognised. If He whose external manifestation was 
 the perfectly unsullied mirror of his divine essence did not 
 
 * The Latin words of the decree,—Siqnidem quadam ratione tanta 
 eosdem Christianos voluntas (such caprice iSiXofytirxila.), invasisset et 
 tanta stultitia occupasset, ut non ilia veterum iustituta sequerentur, quae 
 forsitan primi parentes eorundem constituerant; sed pro arbitrio suo 
 atque ut hisdem erat libitum, ita sibimet leges facerent, quas observarent 
 et per diversa vanos populos congregarent. 
 
 t The emperor had probably explained himself more distinctly on 
 this point in a rescript which has not come down to us. 
 
218 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 fail to distinguish, in the judgments passed by his adversaries 
 on his own person, the sins against the Son of Man from 
 those against the Holy Ghost, we ought to feel it only the 
 more incumbent on ourselves to apply a similar distinction 
 to the judgments passed by misapprehension and calumny 
 upon Christianity, where its divine life was manifested only 
 under a variety of debasing admixtures. In the ferment 
 which on its first appearance Christianity produced, many 
 impure elements necessarily became blended with it, which 
 were destined to be thrown off again during the purifying 
 process of its development. The crisis brought on by 
 Christianity, as it was to lead to a genuine health in the 
 spiritual life, must needs call forth a considerable degree of 
 morbid action, as the indispensable process by which that 
 healthy condition was ultimately to be attained. Much that 
 savoured of a jealous and narrow, exclusive spirit would 
 naturally be engendered by that opposition to the world in 
 which the new faith must first display itself before it, could 
 furnish the world with the principle of its own renovation. 
 Now, in order to judge rightly of these impure admixtures, 
 and of their relation to the essence of Christianity, and to 
 discern the higher element which lay at the bottom of them, 
 it was necessary that Christianity itself should be studied and 
 understood in its fundamental character. Whoever con¬ 
 templated these phenomena from an external point of view 
 found himself, by the very peculiarity of his position, op¬ 
 posed to Christianity, and would naturally confound these ac¬ 
 cidents of its development with its essential principle, and 
 mistake a knowledge of the former for a full comprehension 
 of the latter. This remark we shall have occasion to apply 
 to whatever in these centuries wears the form of opposition to 
 Christianity. 
 
 Thus Lucian—of whose peculiar bias on religious matters 
 we have already spoken—by dwelling on certain accidental 
 marks which had caught his attention, could place Christianity 
 in the same class with the various phenomena of fanaticism 
 and boastful jugglery which he made the butt of his ridicule. 
 When he heard of men who were said to possess the power 
 of curing demoniacs, and of healing other diseases, he at once 
 placed them on the same list with the common vagabond 
 exorcists and magicians. He has most to say about the 
 
LUCIAN. 
 
 219 
 
 Christians in a work which, written in iris peculiar style, 
 describes the life and self-inflicted death of the Cynic phi¬ 
 losopher, Peregrinus Proteus. This personage, according to 
 Lucian, was one of those notorious hypocrites who had the 
 art of concealing their vanity and wickedness under the guise 
 of a Cynic, and deluded the multitude by a variety of 
 fraudulent tricks. It may, however, well be questioned how 
 far, if at all, this picture, drawn by satire, answers to the 
 truth, especially as we have a description of this individual 
 by another contemporary,* which, unless we can assume that 
 the latter suffered himself to be imposed upon by a hypo¬ 
 critical show of moral earnestness and zeal, would lead us to 
 form a very different view of his character. This Peregrinus 
 then, as Lucian tells us, joined himself for a while to the 
 Christians, and, being imprisoned for confessing Christianity, 
 acquired the highest consideration among them. All which 
 account may very probably be a pure invention on Lucian’s 
 part, for the purpose of connecting his hero with the Christians, 
 and gaining thereby an excellent opportunity for satirizing 
 the latter. 
 
 The importance which, from the Christian point of view, 
 had been given to the personal existence of the individual, as 
 destined for endless duration; the lively and confident faith 
 in a resurrection to eternal life; the contrast to the whole 
 frame of existing society which Christianity caused its fol¬ 
 lowers to present; the hearty brotherly love which bound 
 them to each other;—all these things Lucian acknowledges 
 to lie effects which had proceeded from the man who was 
 crucified in Palestine. But, without troubling himself to seek 
 
 * Aulus Gellius (in his Noctes Atticce, 1. XII. c. 11) tells ns that 
 while residing at Athens he visited this Peregrinus, who lived in a hut 
 without the city. He calls him virum gravem et constantem. He cites 
 from his mouth the maxim, Wickedness ought to be shunned, not from 
 fear of punishment or disgrace, but only from love of goodness; virum 
 sapientem non peccaturum, etiamsi peccasse eum dii atque homines igno- 
 raturi forent. If the longing after moral purity these words express 
 was really his own, it is not difficult to see how he might be induced to 
 attach himself to Christianity; while, at the same time, he may have 
 soon fallen away from it, from an incapacity to bring himself to believe 
 the facts which it announced. Still we |lo not think this probable, 
 simply for the following reason, if there were no other—if anything of 
 this kind had happened, some trace or other of such an occurrence would 
 have been preserved in the religious traditions of this period. 
 
220 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 for profounder reasons to account for effects so great, and. as 
 he himself admits, so abiding, he at once proceeds to class it 
 with the other kinds of fanaticism which he ridicules. “ They,” 
 he says of the Christians, “ still worship that great man who 
 was crucified in Palestine, because it was he who introduced 
 into human life the initiation into these new mysteries. These 
 miserable creatures have persuaded themselves that they are 
 all immortal, and will live for ever. For this reason they 
 despise death itself, and many even give themselves up to it. 
 But again, their first lawgiver * has persuaded them to believe 
 that, as soon as they have broken loose from the prevailing 
 customs and denied the gods of Greece, reverencing in their 
 stead their own crucified teacher, and living after his laws, 
 they stand to each other in the relation of brethren. Thus 
 they are led to hold everything else equally in contempt, to 
 consider as profane whatever does not agree with their own 
 notions, which, however, they have adopted without any suffi¬ 
 cient warrant.”! He makes use of the instance of Peregrinus 
 to give a lively description of the sympathy which the 
 Christians displayed to those confessors who were languishing 
 in prison. “ When he was incarcerated,” says Lucian, “ the 
 Christians, who regarded it as a great calamity, spared no 
 expense and no sacrifice to procure his liberation. Finding 
 this to be impossible, they were extremely careful tiiat he 
 should be w r ell provided for in every respect. From the early 
 dawn, old women, widows, and orphans might be seen waiting 
 at the doors of his prison ; the more respectable among them, 
 having bribed the keepers, slept near him in the dungeon. 
 Then various dishes were brought in; and religious discourses 
 were delivered in his presence.!: Even from cities in Asia 
 
 * We see no reason for supposing that St. Paul is intended by this 
 expression ; but we must understand by it the person whom he charac¬ 
 terises as the o.mrx.oXoKuTpi'io; o-otpio-rri;, and of whose laws he is speaking, 
 —the sole founder of Christianity. We recognise also the allusion to 
 what Christ himself had said respecting brotherly love, lu this parti¬ 
 cular description by Lucian we do not observe a single trait which can 
 be considered as belonging peculiarly to the Apostle Paul. 
 
 f ” Aviu nvog uxoifiou; vrlffriug. 
 
 1 Ecclesiastics visited him, and gave religious discourses in the cell 
 where he was confined ; unless the words “ x'ayoi Upo) alrav iXlywre” 
 are to be understood as referring to extracts read from the sacred Scrip¬ 
 tures. By the “ b <nXu,” who remained with him during the night, may 
 doubtless be meant also ecclesiastics. 
 
LUCIAN—ARRIAN. 
 
 221 
 
 Minor deputies from the Christian communities were sent to 
 assist in protecting and consoling him. They show incredible 
 despatch in a public concern of this sort. In a brief space 
 they give away all they have.” 
 
 And then Lucian goes on to accuse the Christians as an 
 ignorant, uneducated class, of excessive credulity. On this 
 account their charitable disposition was in many ways im¬ 
 posed upon. “ If a magician or an impostor, who is at all skil¬ 
 ful in his craft, comes among them, as he has only to deal with 
 an ignorant set of people, lie soon makes himself rich.” He 
 describes the Christians as men “ who thought it the greatest 
 sin to take a morsel of food which, according to their reli¬ 
 gious opinions, was forbidden, and who would rather do any¬ 
 thing than that.” Peregrinus, he says, was excluded from 
 their community, “ because he had even offended against their 
 laws, for he had been seen to eat something or other which 
 was forbidden among them.” It is possible that Lucian had 
 here in his eye certain communities of Jewish Christians ; or, 
 perhaps, the punctilious and superstitious observance of the 
 regulations adopted by the apostolic council at Jerusalem 
 (Acts xv.), which prevailed after the suppression of the more 
 liberal spirit of St. Paul, may have given occasion to such a 
 judgment. At all events, we cannot fail to perceive from this 
 case how the narrow-minded views of certain believers led to a 
 misapprehension of the essential character of their religion. 
 
 The stoic Arrian, who lived at a somewhat earlier period 
 than Lucian, judged of the Christians—as the emperor Mar¬ 
 cus Aurelius had done before—quite in accordance with the 
 relation in which the stoical philosophy stood to Christianity. 
 In his work which has for its object the elucidation of the 
 principles of his master Epictetus, * he starts the question, 
 “ Whether, by the reason gaining an insight into the laws 
 which govern the universe, it might not be possible to attain 
 to the same intrepidity in the presence of death which the 
 Gal Hasans gained by habit and a mad fanaticism.” 
 
 From what we have already said on tiie relation of Neo- 
 Platonism, both to the religious development of the ancient 
 world and also to Christianity, it will be easily understood 
 that, while on the one hand it might serve as a passage to the 
 latter, and also furnish the source from which Christian truth 
 
 * Diatrib. 1. IV. c. 7. 
 
222 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 might borrow the scientific form for its exposition and defence, 
 so,°on the other, it would be the school from which its most 
 formidable antagonist would proceed. It was perhaps from this 
 school that came the first man who felt sufficiently interested 
 in the subject to attack Christianity in an express work. Celsus, 
 who, when in the reign of Marcus Aurelius the attempt was 
 made to extirpate Christianity by the sword, attacked it at the 
 same time with the weapons of his witty and acute intellect, 
 was not improbably a Neo-Platonist. He wrote against the 
 Christians a work in two books, entitled “ The true doctrine.”* 
 Origen himself, however, started the conjecture, that this 
 
 * Aoyos Orig. c. Cels. 1. I. c. 4. Several learned writers have 
 
 supposed that Origen’s language (c. Cels. 1. IV. c. 36) favoured the 
 inference that Celsus wrote another work, in two books, against Chris¬ 
 tianity besides the work just mentioned, which, as to its essential contents, 
 may be restored from the fragments which are preserved in Origen’s 
 reply. But we cannot think that the interpretation of the passage 
 which lies at the basis of their theory is the correct one. The passage 
 
 is this : 'O ’Ekikov^uo; Klkiro;, tiyt ovr'of iffTi, xai xa.ru. X^irriavuv akka. 
 ^uo fi!@kia ffuvTttl^Q r .s. I cannot understand akkaj in this connection, as 
 referring to other works against Christianity, besides the one of which 
 alone Origen uniformly speaks, and which it is his business to refute, 
 but I understand by it other works besides those known to belong to 
 Celsus, in which he betrays his Epicureanism without any attempt at 
 concealment. u The Epicurean Celsus, if indeed so I consider myself 
 warranted by the Greek usus loquendi of this period to understand the 
 word ilyt, while at the same time I acknowledge the original difference 
 between ilyt and fJW—'if indeed he is the same with the one who wrote 
 two other books against the Christians.” By the other books, in this 
 case, none can be meant but that one work which Origen undertook to 
 refute. Precisely this was the point in question, whether the Epicurean 
 could be the author of that work. Whether the same individual had 
 composed two other works besides, against Christianity, was a question 
 that did not belong here. Had it been Origen’s intention to designate 
 two books distinct from that work, he would have expressed himself 
 somewhat as follows : 'O xa) raura ra fii/ikia xai a.kka "hvo, etc. More¬ 
 over, the prefixing the words xa-a Xournavav confirms my interpreta¬ 
 tion. And if Celsus had written another additional work against the 
 Christians, two cases only can be supposed. Either Origen had read 
 this work also, or else he had merely been informed that Celsus had 
 written such a work, without having seen it himself. In the first case, 
 he would not have failed to take some notice, in this controversy, of 
 what Celsus had said in his other work against the Christians. In the 
 second case, he would, at least, not have omitted to declare distinctly 
 that the other work of Celsus had never come under his eye, as he does 
 in fact observe where he is speaking of a writing of Celsus which we 
 shall have occasion to mention hereafter. 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 223 
 
 Celsus was no other than the person otherwise known as 
 Celsus the Epicurean, Lucian’s contemporary and friend 
 
 ; Stl11 ? lain ’ from the uncertainty with which he expresses 
 himself, that lie was led to this conjecture, not by any evi¬ 
 dence of historical tradition, but only by the identity of the 
 name; and that he was again thrown into doubt by the inter¬ 
 nal evidence of the work itself. Now, since it is by no means 
 impossible that two authors of the same name should write at 
 the same period—especially when the name is not an unusual 
 one—the inference from the identity of names must be ex¬ 
 tremely uncertain, unless confirmed also by some similarity in 
 the way of thinking. J 
 
 Lucian was induced by the last-mentioned Celsus to pub¬ 
 lish his life of the magician Alexander of Abonoteichus, a 
 work which he dedicated to that friend. This fact is quite in 
 agreement with the sentiments of Celsus, as discoverable from 
 his work against Christianity. For the antagonist of Christ¬ 
 ianity placed it in the same class with all the phenomena of 
 magic, and made use of this supposed resemblance to account 
 for its origin and diffusion. He might naturally wish, also, 
 o know more about the great magician who had made so 
 much noise in lus day, with a view to avail himself of this 
 knowledge to advance that would-be enlightenment which 
 looks down with equal contempt upon all religious phenomena 
 winch claim to be beyond the ordinary standard as belong¬ 
 ing to the same class. This Celsus had written a book, as 
 Ungen also was aware, against pretended enchantments* and 
 which was intended to counteract the fraudulent tricks of those 
 
 nSTT] /T ta r It , 1S , descnbed by Lu cian as a work well 
 adapted to lead men back to sober sense.| Now it is possible 
 
 that hi Ins case the same zeal against fanaticism would induce 
 Celsus to write against those who endeavoured to deceive the 
 mul ! ude by their pretended art of magic, and against the 
 C lnstians who insisted on their own miraculous gifts. Celsus 
 
 fact ’ com P are > m . °ue place, the miracles of Christ 
 
 i ie w oi's o magicians who had learned their art from 
 
 Kara f/.dycov m 
 
 f He says iu his tract dedicated to this Celsus, and entitled ’A>,W 
 y ; ov $wV«v^(s. 12), addressing himself to Celsus: oh W 
 
 y m; ” T a Xai tytopndrvt cvyy^x.'r, xz) W 
 
 fimoi; <ru(foo)iiL } uv rou; ivruy^avovra;. s 
 
224 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 the Egyptians, and for a few oboli exhibited them in the open 
 market-place, pretending to expel evil spirits from men, to 
 drive away diseases by a breath, to call up the souls of heroes, 
 to raise by their spells splendid entertainments, to make dead 
 things move as if they were alive; and lie asks, ££ Shall we, 
 because they do such things, consider them as sons of G od— 
 or shall we say that these are the tricks of wicked and pitiable 
 men ? ”* Origen was doubtless wrong in supposing that by 
 these words Celsus granted the reality of magic, and that 
 therefore the only way to reconcile this concession with the at¬ 
 tack on magic by the same Celsus (if he were the same) was to 
 assume that, to serve some particular end, he here pretended 
 a belief which he did not actually entertain. For Celsus 
 might express himself thus, even though he looked upon those 
 magicians as being no better than jugglers, skilful in deceiv¬ 
 ing the senses by a certain sleight ot hand, t and yet be 
 the same writer who in his work against the magicians under¬ 
 took to show how such deceptions were accomplished, 'let it 
 must be admitted that, in another passage of the work against 
 the Christians, Celsus does speak as if he considered magic 
 to be an art possessed of a certain power, though he himself 
 held it in no great account. 1 He observes that he had heard 
 from Dionysius, an Egyptian musician, that magic exercised 
 an influence over uneducated and degraded men, but not over 
 those who had received a philosophical education. This view 
 of magic may be easily traced to an opinion prevalent 
 among the Elatonists of the period, which asserted that by 
 taking advantage of certain attractive and repulsive powers 
 in nature—certain magnetic influences—it would be possible 
 to exercise a control over such as were still fettered by ^ the 
 bonds of nature, though not over those who had risen to free¬ 
 dom, and were living"in the divine element which is exalted 
 above all the forces of nature. With this opinion the asser¬ 
 tion first quoted from Celsus may be easily reconciled, that 
 magic, as practised in Egypt its proper home,§ so influenced 
 
 * Ori". C. Cels. 1. I. C. 28. f Msvji <pnvra,<rU; Qaivlpiva. roiavr't. 
 
 1 c. Cels. 1. VI. C. 41. 
 
 § And so the possession of the art of magic was ascribed, by those 
 who acknowledged its reality, particularly to the Egyptian priests. 
 Moreover, Celsus (1.1. c. 28) brings forward the story, borrowed perhaps 
 from the Jews, that Jesus, on account of his poverty, was obliged in 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 225 
 
 men at a subordinate stage of culture, that sights and affec¬ 
 tions of whatever kind might be produced in them at plea¬ 
 sure. It may be questioned, however, whether Lucian’s 
 friend would have conceded as much to magic. 
 
 Lucian praises the mild temper and moderation of his 
 friend. But in Celsus’ work against the Christians we can 
 discover no traces of such qualities, but we feel that we have to 
 do with a man of vehement passions, a man altogether inca¬ 
 pable of allowing a cause which he attacks to be right in any 
 respect or degree. At the same time we cannot be certain 
 that Lucian s opinion of his friend was according to truth. 
 Besides, theie are those who have no difficulty in preserving' 
 their temper so long as certain topics are not introduced, but 
 the mere mention of which will make them break out at once 
 into fire and flames. And in religious matters especially it 
 often happens that men who from a certain negative enlight¬ 
 enment strongly condemn all extravagant zeal in the intellec¬ 
 tual domain, nevertheless lose all their calmness and moder¬ 
 ation when important questions of religious interest come 
 before them. The heat with which Celsus attacks Christianity 
 betrays his strong sense of the mighty power with which it 
 was extending itself on all sides. 
 
 ^ Ihcre can be no doubt that the Celsus who was Lucian’s 
 friend favoured for the most part the school of Epicurus. 
 But in the work against Christianity very little is discover¬ 
 able that betrays a tendency to this way of thinking, and 
 even this little vanishes under a more careful examination. 
 On the other hand, the traces of an entirely opposite system 
 are everywhere apparent. 
 
 In this book we recognise the impress of a mind which 
 would not. consent to adopt the system of another ; we find 
 ourselves in contact with a man who, by combining the 
 ideas predominant in the general philosophical consciousness 
 of his time—the popular ideas, so to speak, of the period— 
 had framed a system of his own, of which he felt rather proud, 
 
 Egypt to let himself out for wages, and there learned the arts by which 
 he performed his pretended miracles, and contrived to attain to such 
 eminence as to be worshipped as a divine being. "Or, „l-o; Si* *u', av 
 u; Aiyuvrrcv (jarSapfoa; x.ax‘,7 Suvayidv rivuv vsigaSvs, i<p’ aTs Ai'yuvnoi 
 Ciftwwrai, iruwASiv, ev <ru7; Su\*y.icri ysy* fpoyav »*) Si’ aiirccj Stov 
 
 CCVtiyOOilHTSV. 
 
226 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and which, as in his work against the Christians lie had 
 appeared only in a controversial and negative light, it was his 
 intention to unfold in another performance in a positive form. 
 In this second work he meant to show how it would be 
 necessary for those to live who were willing and able to 
 follow him. Whether this plan was ever carried into effect 
 we are not informed.* 
 
 But now in this system the main ideas are borrowed from 
 Platonism. Among these we reckon the idea of the Absolute, 
 the oV, to which the contemplative spirit of the philosopher 
 alone could soar ;—the distinction between the highest primal 
 Being or Essence, and his self-manifestation in the Universe 
 —between the Highest, who reposes in being, and the second 
 god who reveals himself in becoming ;—the world, as the Son 
 of the Supreme God ;—the idea of the celestial luminaries as 
 divine essences, of higher intelligences animating those hea¬ 
 venly bodies, of the gods who appear visibly in the phenome¬ 
 nal world,f as opposed to the invisible, hidden deities who 
 preside over the several parts of the world—the national gods 
 to whom the different portions of the world are subject, and 
 to whom men are bound to render due homage, by acknow¬ 
 ledging this dependence, which is grounded on the nature of 
 terrestrial existence; the idea that the imperishable element 
 in human nature, the spirit, alone derives its origin from God; 
 that this element, possessing an affinity to God, exists in the 
 human soul; the hypothesis of a power struggling against the 
 divine and formative principle in the world, of the v\rj, as the 
 source of evil; so that the evil in the world is regarded as 
 something necessary; and, lastly, that from this vXrj are de¬ 
 rived the evil spirits, the powers that resist the divine, the 
 reason. 
 
 These ideas, scattered through his work, bespeak certainly 
 not the Epicurean, but one who owed nearly all he pos¬ 
 sessed to the current ideas of the Neo-Platonic philosophy of 
 religion. Even though we must suppose that, in order to 
 oppose the Christian mode of thinking, and for the purpose of 
 
 * Origen, at the conclusion of his work, begs his friend Ambrosius, if 
 Celsus had actually fulfilled this design, to procure for him this work 
 also, that he might take measures for its refutation. These words 
 clearly prove that Origen, too, had no knowledge of a second work of 
 Celsus against Christianity. t ?*»*{«<• 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 227 
 
 bantering the Christians, Celsus said many things which he did 
 not seriously mean, yet assuredly we have no reason to infer 
 that the hue of Platonism which tinges the whole work was 
 thrown in merely for the sake of illusion. And however 
 strong we may be inclined to rate the tendency to eclecticism 
 at this particular period, still we cannot look upon it as either 
 natural or probable that Epicurean views would be blended 
 with so predominant an element of New Platonism. 
 
 But whoever this Celsus may have been, he is an important 
 individual in our history, for he is, in fact, the original re¬ 
 presentative of a class of intellects which, in the various at¬ 
 tacks on Christianity, has over and over again presented itself 
 to our notice: wit and acuteness, without earnestness of purpose 
 or depth of research; a worldly understanding that looks at 
 things merely on the surface, and delights in hunting up diffi¬ 
 culties and contradictions. Iiis objections against Christianity 
 serve one important end. They present, in the clearest light, 
 the true opposition between the Christian position and that of 
 the ancient world; and, in general, the relation which revealed 
 religion will ever be found to hold to the ground assumed 
 by natural reason. Thus it is that many of his objections 
 and strictures became nothing less than testimonies to the 
 truth. 
 
 In what light the divine foolishness of the gospel—of the 
 faith which was to make the highest truth the common pro¬ 
 perty of all mankind—must needs appear to the twinkling wis¬ 
 dom and the aristocratic enlightenment of the ancient world, 
 will clearly appear from the words of Celsus, where he 
 objects to the Christians* that they refused to give reasons 
 for what they believed, but were ever repeating, “ Do not 
 examine, only believe; thy faith will make thee blessed. 
 Wisdom is a bad thing in life, foolishness is good.”f He 
 makes the Christians say, Let no educated, no wise man 
 approach ; but whoever is ignorant, uneducated—whoever is 
 
 * A similar objection is also brought against Judaism and Christianity 
 by Galen, that celebrated physician of the second and third centuries,— 
 a man incapable of rising to the higher fields of thought. Contemplating 
 the world from one particular side of it, and by the undertanding alone, 
 he is led to observe, Iva f/.r\ uiSb; xar &S s/V M coiirou kcc) X/jkttov 
 
 o.QiyfjX-to$ vofAuv avcc5rcSt/»™v cizoiiri. De different, puls. 1. II. c. 4. 
 
 f L. I. c. 9. 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 like a child, let him come and be comforted.”* * * § Tins objec¬ 
 tion was, in part, called forth by the divine paradox of the 
 gospel itself; but in part there was also among the Christi¬ 
 ans themselves a one-sided tendency to set up faith as some¬ 
 thin'’' opposed to learned culture and scientific inquiiy—a 
 course which led to a misapprehension of Christianity itself, 
 and to accusations which had no other ground than this mis¬ 
 conception. Associated with this class of objections we find 
 another of a directly opposite character, showing how much 
 the religion which was thus accused of demanding and encou¬ 
 raging implicit faith claimed and excited intellectual inquiry, 
 and called into requisition all the powers of thought. We 
 are alluding to the objection which Celsus drew from the mul¬ 
 titude of conflicting sects among the Christians.-)- “ In the 
 beginning,” he says,} “ when die Christians were few in 
 number, "they may, perhaps, have agreed among themselves. 
 But as their numbers increased, they separated into parties, 
 mutually attacking and refuting each other, and retaining 
 nothing in common but their name, if indeed they did that. ’ § 
 He accuses them also of calumniating each other, and of 
 refusing to yield up a single point for the sake of unani¬ 
 mity. j| 
 
 In objecting to Christianity the many oppositions of human 
 opinion which it called forth, Celsus is, in fact, refuting him¬ 
 self. IIow could a religion of bare faith, a religion that in¬ 
 vited the unenlightened but repelled the wise of this world, 
 give birth to such a multitude of heresies? If he had been a 
 less superficial observer, he could not have failed to be struck 
 with this contradiction ; and in endeavouring to resolve it 
 must have had his attention directed to that peculiarity by 
 which Christianity is so clearly distinguished from all preced¬ 
 ing phenomena in the intellectual world. Celsus thought that 
 
 * L. III. C. 44: AijXo' s iffiv, on fioiiov; tou ; tiXiBlovs xa.) uyv>n~; r.cti u.vciis- 
 
 SwTay; xol) d.'iboc/.'Xoba. xc&i yv'jeotoe xcu •z'c&iOaoict ffiijiiv tQiXo'jcn Tt xeti ovvccvrc&i. 
 
 j- Clement'of Alexandria observes that pagans and Jews were wont 
 to bring this objection against Christianity : (jM 3=7v vurnuuv oid riiv hccipai- 
 VICCV TOO)! a.lO'iC’iSOV. Strom. 1. VII. f. 753. Ed. Paris, 1641. 
 
 J L. III. c. 10, and the following. 
 
 § Irnaui iVia; txairroi SlXoun, tr$u; aurov; lXiy%ovtrir, me;, eo; ti.rin, 
 177 tiyi xoivuvciimv tn, cov 
 
 || L. V. C. 63 : Y>Xu.<rQr,woZn SI u; clXXr.Xov; ov-oi •xdvhuiu pnra y.a'i Upfnrct 
 xa) ohx av olTi or:o-jv a; ouowa*. 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 229 
 
 these oppositions of knowledge, so hotly conflicting with each 
 other, would bring about the dissolution of Christianity. But 
 history has proved the contrary. It has shown that there is 
 in Christianity an indwelling power of unity which enabled it 
 to overcome all opposition, and to make it even subservient 
 to its advancement. 
 
 Celstis then, as we see, was aware of the fact that many 
 different sects existed among the Christians. But he did nor, 
 as a lover of justice and of truth would have done, give himself 
 the trouble to distinguish the original fundamental doctrines 
 
 of Christianity from the later additions made by these sects_ 
 
 what was acknowledged as true by the great body of Christians, 
 /rum what was adopted only by this or that particular party, 
 lie was somewhat deeply read in the religious records of the 
 Christians, and had also heard much that was derived from 
 them. But the temper in which he had read and heard all 
 tins was such as disqualified him for rightly understanding 
 it. In all he did but seek and find occasion for ridicule and 
 misrepresentation. As he had put the religious parties of the 
 Christians without discrimination into one class, so he classed 
 together their sacred writings without examining either their ori¬ 
 gin or their character. Whatever he could lay hold of which 
 seemed likely to present Christianity in an unfavourable light, 
 though it came from the most opposite sources—whether from 
 (he fanatical spiritualism of the Griiostics, or the gross anthro¬ 
 pomorphism of the Chiliasts—was eagerly welcomed by him. 
 
 At one time he objects to the Christians that they had no¬ 
 thing m common with all other religions—neither temples, 
 images, nor altars; at another—opposing an abstract know¬ 
 ledge of God to the religion that had its birth in historical 
 facts—he calls them a miserable, sense-bound, sense-lovino- 
 race, • who would acknowledge nothing but what was palpable 
 to the outward senses. lie declaims at length on the duty 
 of closing the senses and turning away from all sensible 
 things, in order to gain an intuition of God through the eve 
 of the mind. J 
 
 On the watch for every weak point which the Christians 
 might leave exposed, and which, in assailing their faith, he 
 
 ,* xa) yU 0; . L. VII. c. 36. navnXZ, r* rcc e *) i $A- 
 
 fiivoi ncu f/jfioiv xaS-a/JOv (oklirovns. L. C. C. 42. ‘ S 
 
230 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 could take advantage of, the pains expended by many to work 
 into form the traditions relating to the history of Christ did 
 not escape his notice. “ Many,” he says, “ of the faithful, who 
 have come, as it were, out of a fit of intoxication to their sober 
 senses, alter the evangelical narrative from the shape in which 
 it was first promulgated, in three, four, nay many 'ways, 
 that they may be able to get rid of whatever was open to 
 objection.”* He brings this forward as a proof of his position, 
 that the more soberminded and discreet among the Christians 
 were aware of the insuperable difficulties which were involved 
 in those accounts, and, consequently, felt themselves called 
 upon to remove these difficulties by emendations of the text. 
 But even this fact is a witness to the intrinsic energy which 
 had enabled these facts to find their way into the religious 
 consciousness. Notwithstanding the stones of stumbling that 
 they presented to man’s ordinary understanding, still, when 
 these narratives came to be spread among men of education 
 and cultivated intellects, they could win conviction on their 
 side. 
 
 In like manner Celsus unintentionally bears witness to the 
 distinguishing peculiarity of the gospel, and at the same time 
 to the cause of his own insensibility to its power, when he 
 imagines that he can justly ridicule Christianity, because it 
 invites none but sinners to the kingdom of God, and excludes 
 such as are wholly ■without sin. “ They who invite us,” he 
 says,| “ to be initiated in the mysteries of other religions, 
 begin by proclaiming ‘ Let him draw near who is pure from 
 all stains, who is conscious of no wickedness, who has lived a 
 good and upright life.’ This is their proclamation who pro¬ 
 mise purification from sins. But let us hear the invitation of 
 these Christians : £ Whoever is a sinner,’ they cry, 4 whoever 
 
 * The remarkable words of Celsus (1. II. c. 27) are, T ivas rav vitmu- 
 ovreov u; Ik ylxovret; it ; to lf>s o-tocvui oovto7s uiTC6X a ^ 77ilv ix 7715 rtgawis 
 
 yoct<fr,$ to ivcoyyiXtov Tg*x*j xoci titqu.’XJa xct) ?roX\c &%'/j kou f/ATCCTrXa.TTitv^ tv 
 
 i'xs/sv m; touj ixiy^v; uo-iutrSu.i. Origen supposes that what Celsus says 
 can apply only to the Gnostics, who allowed themselves in the practice of 
 altering the evangelical records in order to suit them to their own peculiar 
 doctrines. Celsus, however, could hardly have in view this class of 
 men ; more probably he referred to those who, in their criticism of the 
 text, being pressed by some apologetical interest, were for removing 
 whatever might prove offensive to the sen sits communis. 
 
 f Lib. III. c. 59. 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 231 
 
 is foolish, unlettered, in a word, whoever is wretched, him will 
 the kingdom of God receive.’ ” And then he demands, “ What 
 then? Was Christ not sent to those who are sinless?”* As 
 Celsus had no just sense of the nature of sin, and could accord¬ 
 ingly express surprise that Christ should announce himself as 
 not sent especially for the sinless, so too he had no presenti¬ 
 ment of the soul-transforming power which Christianity pos¬ 
 sesses—of that mystery of an entire moral regeneration of a 
 nature wholly estranged from God, which Christ sets forth in 
 his conversation with Nicodemus. He had no conception of 
 the fact, that by the power of divine love a change is pro¬ 
 duced, beginning from within and working outwards, which 
 no fear of punishment could ever efleet from without. His 
 remarks on this subject are well worth notice.f “ It is mani¬ 
 fest that no man can entirely change a person to whom sin has 
 become a second nature, even by punishment, and far less then 
 by mercy; for to effect a complete chanye of nature is the 
 most difficult of things. The sinless are the safest companions 
 in life.” 
 
 It is evident that, with such a habit of thinking as could 
 give utterance to the preceding passages, Celsus would be in¬ 
 capable of understanding another of the characteristic marks 
 of the Christian position as distinguished from that of anti¬ 
 quity, namely, the nature of humility. In virtue of his Pla¬ 
 tonism, he did, indeed, see that the rmreirorr/g, which the 
 ordinary ethical views of antiquity looked down upon as 
 something sordid and evil, might also be a virtue ; and lienee 
 he refers to the passage in Plato’s fourth book of the Laws, 
 which we have already cited (see page 26 ). Instead however of 
 seeing in the latter something typical and preparatory of Chris¬ 
 tianity, he derives the Christian idea of humility from a mis¬ 
 understanding of the Platonic sentiment.^: The true nature 
 of humility was a matter too foreign to his own way of think¬ 
 ing and apprehension, to make it easy for him to understand 
 this particular of the Christian life. Thus, in those carica¬ 
 tures of humility which came under his observation in certain 
 imperfect exhibitions of the Christian life, he was unable to 
 discern the truth at bottom ; and he took advantage of such 
 
 * T/ this avaiAa^rr^oi; olx. l<x'iu(p§n ; L. C. C. 62. 
 
 f Oulti; av ou$l xoXu.Z,wv vavrif yAra/iaXoi, ftriri yi iXiwv. L. III. c. 65. 
 
 .J Tlxodz/wtrfia <r»v XlXctTuvos Xoywn. L. VI. C. 15. 
 
232 
 
 WRITERS AGAIXST CHRISTIAXITY. 
 
 morbid offshoots to represent the essence of Christian humility 
 as itself being a morbid thing. According to him, the humble 
 man after the Christian model was a creature “ for ever on his 
 knees, or rolling in the dust, always meanly dressed and 
 covered with ashes.”* 
 
 It may appear strange that Celsus, who taunts the Christians 
 with their self-abasement before God, should almost with the very 
 same breath accuse them of the very opposite fault, immoderate 
 pride, a foolish self-exaltation in the sight of God. But as he 
 had no proper conception of true humility, so neither had he 
 any just notion of true dignity,—both being intimately con¬ 
 nected together in the Christian consciousness, according to 
 the words of Christ, who makes self-humiliation the con¬ 
 dition of man’s exaltation. To the sentiments of the natural 
 man these appear as incompatible; but in Christianity they 
 find an easy reconciliation. Hence Celsus necessarily mistook 
 the Christian position on both its sides. He could therefore 
 attack it on both these opposite aspects. Thus he ridicules the 
 Christians for presuming to ascribe to themselves, and to man 
 generally, in the sight of God, such worth and dignity above 
 the rest of creation, as to teach that God had created all things 
 on man’s account, and to represent man as the final cause both 
 of creation and of providence. The importance which Chris¬ 
 tianity attached to the individual struck him as strange and 
 singular. Agreeably to the prevailing view of the ancient 
 world, he regarded the universal whole as being the only end 
 worthy of the divine mind ; and that man was oi no account 
 except as a constituent part of this whole, which is subjected 
 to those unchangeable laws of its evolution which operate with 
 iron necessity. “It is not for man,” he says, “ that every¬ 
 thing has been given ; but everything comes into being and 
 decays again for the sake of the whole.” f How little capable 
 he was of understanding, indeed, the great idea that all things 
 have been created for man, is evident from the form of some 
 
 * L. VI. c. 15 . Origen justly replies, “ If there are some who through 
 ignorance and the want of a right understanding of the true doctrine of 
 humility do this, the Christian system is not therefore to be accused; but 
 it must be charitably imputed to the ignorance of those who propose to 
 do what is right, but fail for want of knowledge.” 
 
 \ “E/iairra rr,s rou oXou t?urn°'ict; uiikil yiviral te kcci cctfoAt.urai. L, IV. 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 909 
 
 of his objections. “Although,” he says, “it might be said 
 that trees, plants, herbs grow for the sake of man, yet might 
 it not be said with the same propriety that they also grow 
 for the wildest animals ? ” * And comparing the latter with 
 man, he observes f—“ We with the greatest labour and care 
 are scarcely able to support ourselves ; but for the brutes 
 everything grows spontaneously, without any sowing and 
 ploughing of theirs.” In his passionate prejudice against all 
 that Christianity teaches of the dignity of human nature, he 
 goes so far as to exalt the brutes at man’s expense. J “If you 
 say God has given you the power of capturing the brutes, and 
 of making them subservient to your ends, we reply, that before 
 cities, arts, trades, and weapons had existence, men were torn 
 by the wild beasts, not they taken by men.” Instead of mark¬ 
 ing how in the brutes nature is gradually ascending to man, he 
 adduces the instances of bees and the ants to prove that even 
 the order of civil society is no peculiar prerogative of man.§ 
 What the Christians taught concerning a particular providence, 
 and concerning God’s care for the well-being of individuals, 
 appeared, therefore, to him a vain presumption, derived from 
 the ascription of human feeling to the Deity. “ Not for man,” 
 he asserts, || “ anymore than for lions or eagles, have all things 
 in the world been created : but it tvas in order that the world, 
 as the work of God, might be a complete and perfect whole. 
 God provides only for the whole ; and this his providence 
 never neglects. And this world never becomes any worse. 
 God does not desert it for a while and then return to it after a 
 long interval. He is as little angry with man as he is with 
 apes or Hies.” Like a consistent Platonist, Celsus rejects every 
 thing tcleogical in the creation and government of the world. 
 A redemption is, according to his doctrine, v'holly out of the 
 question. For in this world evil is a necessary thing. It has 
 no origin, and will have no end. It remains constantly as it 
 
 * L. c. c. 75. f L. c. c. 76. 
 
 % To avoid the mistake of many who have supposed they found in 
 what Celsus here says a token of his leaning far more to Epicureanism 
 than Platonism in his mode of thinking, it should be considered that 
 passion and obstinacy lead him here to push things to the extreme, and 
 that, even according to the Neo-Platonistic principles, the brutes were 
 supposed to possess a soul bearing some affinity to that of man, but 
 checked in its development by the constraint of the v'Xn. 
 
 § L. c. c. 81. 11 L. IV. c. 99. 
 
234 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 is, just as the nature of the universe remains on the whole 
 the same for ever.* * * § The v\r] is the source from which what 
 we call evil is ever springing up afresh. By this Platonic 
 principle, a redemption which should triumph over evil is 
 excluded. Celsus conceives the evolution of the universe as a 
 circle constantly repeating itself in invariable obedience to the 
 same laws. With such notions of God’s relation to the world, 
 and to man in particular, with such mistaken views of the 
 worth and significance of personal existence, it was only 
 natural for him to brine: against the Christian view of God’s 
 government of the world, and of ids method of salvation, and 
 especially of the work of redemption, the objection so often 
 repeated in after times, “ that the universe has been provided, 
 once for all, with all the powers necessary for its preservation 
 and for its development in accordance with certain fixed laws. 
 God did not, like a human architect, so execute his work, that 
 at some future period it would need repair. | 
 
 Quite characteristic of the man is the way in which Celsus 
 treats the history of Christ. He partly follows the stories 
 put in circulation by the Jews; partly certain spurious or 
 mistaken traditions; and partly the gospel narratives them¬ 
 selves, which, as a whole, because he possessed no general 
 intuition of Christ’s person, he could not understand in their 
 true significance.} Wherever he thinks the evangelical narra¬ 
 tives can be made to answer his pmpose, he adduces their 
 authority to be unimpeachable; but when they do not square 
 and fall in with his polemical objects, he denies their truth.§ 
 He makes the Jew, whom he introduces speaking against Chris¬ 
 tianity, to say that he had many truths to relate of Christ’s 
 history altogether different from what his disciples had reported, 
 but that he purposely kept them back. || And yet it is hardly 
 conceivable that Celsus, who, full of hatred of Christianity, 
 raked together whatever could be urged against it with the 
 least semblance of probability, would have failed to make use 
 of such accounts if they were really within his reach. We, 
 
 * L. c. c. 62, and the following. 
 
 f OSrs ru 9e<u xaniorloa; SsT '%iof>Sc!>cri u;. L. C. C. 69. 
 
 j Origen aptly characterizes the sources of information of which 
 Celsus availed himself: EiV ix ’zra.ouXQU'riJMrav, eIts xc/.) E- u.ta.'yvu<ru,a.'7ui>, 
 tlr \x 'iinyri/xa.'Tuv ’lovStzixwv. L. II. C. 10. 
 
 § L, C. C. 34. || L. C. C. 13. 
 
CELSUS. 
 
 235 
 
 therefore, with Origen, must consider this as one of those 
 rhetorical artifices, in the use of which Celsus set an example 
 to later antagonists of Christianity. 
 
 Thus, he assails the position that Christ was wholly without 
 sin; * although he does not produce a single action of Christ 
 to show the contrary. 
 
 Among other stories, he lays hold of the wholly unfounded 
 tradition of the uncomeliness of Christ’s person,| in order to 
 represent it as inconsistent with the supposition that Christ 
 partook of the divine nature more largely than other men.J 
 
 With regard to the resurrection of Christ, he did not venture 
 to deny the reality of his death ; but he denied the truth of the 
 statements of his appearance after he had risen. Without 
 entering into a careful examination of these accounts, he leaves 
 it open to his readers either to suppose them pure inventions, 
 or cases of optical delusion—visions belonging to the same 
 class with the apparition of ghosts. § The objections which 
 Celsus urges against the reality of Christ’s miracles and of his 
 resurrection, harmonize perfectly with his ignorance of the 
 true significancy of these facts. “Why,” he demands, “did 
 Christ perform no miracle when in the temple the Jews chal¬ 
 lenged him to do so ? ”|| « If lie really wished to manifest his 
 
 divine power, he ought to have shown it to his enemies, to 
 those who condemned him, and generally to all.” f How, from 
 overlooking the connection of the divine with the human in 
 history, he has constantly to contradict himself, appears once 
 more in a very remarkable manner, by his saying, “ How is it 
 that a man who was incensed with the Jews could destroy 
 them at a stroke, and give up their city to the flames!—so 
 utterly nothing were they before him and yet the great God, 
 angry and threatening, sends his own son, as they say, and he 
 must suffer all this?” ** 
 
 Thus, to the man who was incapable of understanding the 
 
 * M>;Ss dvi-riXriVrov yiyonvai rtv ’lfi<rouv. L. C. C. 41 and 42. 
 f W hich tradition had grown out of an exaggeration of the truth that 
 Christ had appeared in the form of a servant, and out of a literal inter¬ 
 pretation of Isaiah 5.3. 
 
 ora) Quov 7J vrXsov Tuv a.XXuv tr^oCr/V d.XXou 
 
 touto Ss ou^sv clXXou lisfiipsv, a\X’ a; Qam /uix^iv xut c xcii clysvyi; ^v. 
 
 L. IV. c. 75. 
 
 § L. II. c. 55; 1. VII. c. 35. 
 if L. II. c. 63 and 67. 
 
 || L. I. e. 67. 
 
 ** L. IV. e. 73. 
 
WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 « 
 
 true import of Christ’s appearance, the course of history gene¬ 
 rally became unintelligible. He could not read the signs of 
 the times. He could not perceive that men whose anger the 
 Jews had provoked served as instruments of the divine justice 
 in inflicting the penalty which that people had incurred by the 
 accumulated measure of their guilt. 
 
 From the same school of Platonism proceeded, in the latter 
 half of the third century, another opponent of Christianity,— 
 one in whom we recognise a man of noble spirit united with 
 profound intellectual attainments, the very reverse of Celsus. 
 Porphyry, a Phoenician by birth, was a man of the East, in 
 whose character an Oriental basis had been completely fused 
 with the elements of Grecian civilization. The statement 
 which comes from Socrates the church historian,* that lie had 
 originally been a Christian, but had been embittered against 
 Christianity in consequence of having suffered ill treatment 
 from some of his fellow-believers, looks too much like one of 
 the common stories by which men endeavour to account, from 
 outward causes, for an opposition grounded in the inward bias 
 of the mind itself. It scarcely, therefore, deserves any credit. 
 In no one sentiment that properly belongs to Porphyry can a 
 trace be discovered of his having ever been a Christian ; for, 
 assuredly, those ideas of his which are, or rather which seem 
 to be, akin to Christianity, cannot rightly be considered as an 
 evidence of this kind. In part, they sprang naturally out of 
 that portion of Platonism which may justly claim some affinity 
 with Christian doctrines, and which was brought out more 
 prominently by the effort to refine paganism and to maintain 
 it in opposition to Christianity. Partly they are proofs of 
 the power which Christianity exerted over those minds even 
 that were opposed to it; as, for instance, when Porphyry 
 describes the triad of Christian principles, Faith, Love, and 
 Hope—though not apprehended in all the profound meaning 
 of St. Paul—as the foundation of genuine piety.f If Por¬ 
 phyry had not been a disciple of Plotinus, it is probable that 
 bv a fusion of Oriental Theosophy with Christianty he would 
 have become a Gnostic. That speculative direction, opposed 
 
 * L. III. c. 23. . . 
 
 f In his, letter to his wife, Marcella, which was published by Mai, in 
 Milan 1810 (c. 24): TtW«/>« gToi-^Cia paXitr-a. mxoaruvSu ■r^i Sisu' 
 
 CT/Vr/J, Ct\Y\§ilCCy iOUSy I'klTli* 
 
PORPHYRY. 
 
 237 
 
 
 to the Oriental Gnosticism, which lie received from Plotinus 
 and which united a Theosophy based on Platonism with the 
 spiritualized polytheistic system, rendered him a violent enemy 
 of Christianity, which could not be forced to accommodate 
 itself to his eclectic theory. 
 
 Porphyry, in the letter to his wife, calls it the noblest fruit 
 of piety to worship God after the manner of one’s country.* 
 Christianity, then, would be hateful to him, if on no other 
 grounds, yet simply because it was a religion that conflicted 
 with the national worship. As it was his wish to maintain a 
 form of worship which could not be made to harmonize with 
 the fundamental ideas of his philosophical religion except by 
 artificial interpretations, unintelligible to the" multitude, he 
 was necessarily betrayed into many inconsistencies, lie was, 
 as we have seen, a zealous advocate of image-worship ; and in 
 encouraging this he countenanced at the same time the oki 
 superstitions, since the people associated their ancient notions 
 with these images. And yet he writes to his wife, “ He is 
 not so much an Atheist who honours not the images of the 
 gods, as he who thinks of God in the same wav as the nud- 
 titude.” 
 
 lie wrote a work against Christianity, in which he pre¬ 
 tended to detect contradictions in the sacred scriptures,—con¬ 
 tradictions between the Apostles,— especially between the 
 Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul.f In this work he doubtless 
 adroitly availed himself of the weak points presented, not by 
 the matter itself which he was attacking, but by the manner 
 in which men had set it forth and defended it. For example, 
 when he found certain harmonists attempting to set forth 
 the New Testament as a rigid unity, he might perhaps be 
 tempted to point out discrepancies in it,'—of which, we may 
 well suppose, he would be sure to make a false use; or, as 
 Celsus had done before him,± seizing upon the artificial 
 allegoiical interpretations of the Old Testament, which men 
 had resorted to for the purpose of showing that every part of 
 it was in the same manner divine, and that every doctrine of 
 
 * Ejx ad Marcellam, ed. Mai. c. IS, where perhaps the reading should 
 
 be, Tiu,av yo ShTav Ka.ru, ra rror^io. 
 
 f Where he has recourse to the fallacious argument grounded on the 
 well-known incident at Antioch, Gal. 2. 
 
 X See e. Cels. 1. I. c. 17; 1. IV. c. 48. 
 
238 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Christianity might be found in it, probably drew from them a 
 proof that to the natural and simple understanding the Old 
 Testament admitted of no worthy sense. With good reason 
 could lie say of such explanations, that men had contrived, by 
 pompous show, to dazzle and bewilder the judgment.* Yet 
 what he was able with so much justice to urge against this 
 artificial interpretation of the Old Testament recoiled with no 
 less weight upon himself and the school to which he belonged, 
 since, in interpreting the Greek religion and its fables, they 
 took equally unwarrantable liberties. 
 
 Of another work of Porphyry’s we possess fuller and more 
 accurate information. In this also he has spoken against Chris¬ 
 tianity, and probably it was intended, indirectly at least, to 
 present a check to its progress. It is a system of Theology 
 such as could be drawn up from the ancient pretended responses 
 of the Oracles.| Now, among the responses of the Oracles, 
 some are to be found which relate to Christ and Christianity. 
 An evidence this of the power with which Christianity influ¬ 
 enced the whole spiritual atmosphere, so that in their most 
 immediate relations it enforced itself upon their notice. Hence 
 many were at a loss how they ought to act with regard to it, 
 and sought for advice from the Oracles or from the priests who 
 spoke in their name. The responses to these applications dif¬ 
 fered in tone and import according to the different modes of 
 thinking of the priests who gave them. In the first centuries 
 it frequently occurred that the women became zealous Chris¬ 
 tians, while their husbands remained devoted to paganism. In 
 a case of this sort a man inquired of Apollo what god he had 
 best propitiate in order to bring back his wife from Christianity4 
 
 * The words of Porphyry, which very aptly characterize this sort of 
 self-delusion in the interpretation of the records of religion, are as fol¬ 
 lows : A ti tou rutyou ro noiriKov rri; x.u.ru.yow'riv'ru.vri;. Euseb. 
 
 hist, eccles. 1. VI. c. 19. 
 
 f Uio) rUs It Xoyi&i'j tpi\o<n><p!as, of which, in many respects, very inte- 
 resting'work considerable fragments have been preserved in the twelve 
 sermonib. curat, affect, of Theodoretus, in Augustine’s work de Civitate 
 Dei, after a Latin version, in which Augustine had read it; and espe¬ 
 cially in that great literary storehouse the Proeparat. Evang. and Demon- 
 strat. Evangel. of'Eusebius. Maii has published a new fragment in 
 connection with the letter to Marcella. 
 
 + Maii infers from this place, altogether without reason, that Por¬ 
 phyry’s Marcella was a Christian. Porphyry undoubtedly cites here the 
 question, of another, as he does frequently in this work. "The letter to 
 
* 
 
 PORPHYRY. 
 
 239 
 
 The pretended Apollo, who was doubtless well aware how 
 strong was the force of conviction among the Christians, 
 answered, “ That he might sooner write on the flowing stream, 
 or fly on the empty air, than change the mind of his wife after 
 she had once become impure and godless. Leave her, then, 
 to lament her deceased God.”* Apollo appears next justify¬ 
 ing the judges who had condemned Jesus to death as a revolter 
 against Judaism: “ for the Jews acknowledged God, at least 
 more than the Christians ” (the common judgment of the 
 pagans, as we have already observed). 
 
 Many of the pagans were led to suppose, from what they 
 had heard concerning Christ, that he might be worshipped as 
 a god along with the other gods, and they consulted the 
 Oracle on this point. It is remarkable that the priests who, 
 in this case, composed the response, were cautious against say¬ 
 ing anything disrespectful of Christ himself. The answer was, 
 “ He who is wise knows that the soul rises immortal from the 
 body ; but the soul of that man is preeminent in piety.”! 
 When they inquired further why Christ had suffered death, 
 they received for answer, “ To be subject to light sufferings is 
 always the lot of tire body, but the soul of the pious rises 
 to the fields of heaven.”! Here Porphyry himself takes occa- 
 
 Marcella contains no evidence whatever that she was a Christian, but 
 rather goes to prove the contrary. 
 
 * Augustin, de civitate Dei, 1. XIX. c. 23. The strength of religious 
 conviction among Jews and Christians became proverbial, as we see 
 from the words of Galen, the celebrated physician, where he is speaking 
 of the great difficulty of bringing about any change in the opinions of 
 those who are devoted to particular schools of medicine or philosophy, 
 and makes use of the following comparison: eZrriw iiv v, ; robs dvl 
 MtvL'troij xu I Xearrov ptrcehld.% uiv, % k, r. x. De different, pulsuum 1 III 
 c. 3, ed. Charter, T. VIII. f. 68 . ’ 
 
 t "°' ri f* lv aSavurti 'Jsux* P-iera. (rupee ergc/Saini, 
 yiyvuirxzi Tiripnpevos, uXXu yt •J'U-yv 
 
 avisos iutTifily •rrpo^s^urru.rr) GtIv Ixtlvou. 
 
 Euseb. Demonstrat. evang. 1. III. p. 134 . 
 
 t ~S,upce p \v ubguv'unv (hutruvois aie'i •rgofbzfbXyrui' 
 
 ^ ziHTzfiiuv us ougteviev erzbov 
 
 It may be that Porphyry was occasionally deceived by spurious oracles 
 that had been interpolated either by Alexandrian Jews or other and 
 older pagan Platonicians. It is quite possible also that oracles of this 
 description had been interpolated by some other more rightly thinking 
 pagan, under the name of the god or the goddess; though it may be 
 very well conceived, and indeed is more natural to suppose, that these 
 
240 
 
 WRITERS AGAINST CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 sion to explain that Christ, therefore, must not be calumniated ; 
 only they ought to be pitied who worship him as Cod. 
 “ That pious soul, which has ascended to heaven, has by 
 a kind of destiny become an occasion of error to those souls 
 who were doomed to have no share in the gifts of the gods and 
 in the knowledge of the eternal Zeus.” 
 
 The list of authors who wrote against Christianity is closed^ 
 by Hierocles, president of Bithynia, and afterwards prefect ot 
 Alexandria. The time which this writer selected for making 
 his attack was the last that any man of noble and generous 
 feelings would have chosen,—that ot the Dioclesian persecu¬ 
 tion. And it was particularly unbecoming in Hierocles to set 
 himself up as a teacher of the Christians, both because he was 
 one of the chief instigators of the persecution, and a principal 
 instrument in carrying it into effect. Yet he assumed the air 
 of one who was actuated by an impartial love of the truth, and 
 who wrote with the kindest feelings towards the Christians, 
 for he entitled his performance ‘ Truth-loving words to the 
 Christians.’* In this work he brings forward again much 
 that had been said already by Celsus and Porphyry. He 
 indulges in the most abominable falsehoods about the history 
 of Christ. In particular, for the purpose of at once glorifying 
 the old religion and attacking the Christian faith, he made use 
 of a comparison of which probably he was not the original 
 inventor. To give a new impulse to the declining religion ot 
 paganism in its resistance to the overwhelming power of 
 Christianity, it was necessary to direct men’s attention to those 
 heroes of the old religion who, it was imagined, could be set 
 up in comparison to him on whom alone the faith of the 
 Christians reposed. Accordingly the lives of the ancient 
 sages,—of Pythagoras, for example, as portrayed by the Neo- 
 Platonic philosopher Jamblichus,—were coloured over with a 
 
 oracles were actually given on the occasions specified. But assuredly 
 the suspicion is altogether unfounded that they were invented by some 
 Christian, for Christians would certainly have never been able to make 
 up their minds to say so little of Christ. The example being once given 
 of such pagan oracles in relation to Christ, Christians might then no 
 doubt be led to invent others. In the oracular response cited by Lac- 
 tantius (institut. 1. VI. c. 13) the words concerning Christ, Swl; far 
 x a tr a g z a, troQo; noarivdunii ‘ieyoi;, and several others, betray their 
 Christian author. 
 
 * Aoym trgos rovs ’X-gi'rrictyovS' 
 
HIEROCLES.—PHILOSTRATUS. 
 
 241 
 
 tinge of the marvellous, if not expressly with such an object 
 yet, at least, under the influence of such a tendency, which at 
 this time regulated (he religious consciousness of the pagans. 
 But men did not wish to go back to hoary antiquity to draw 
 from it the heroes of their faith,—they wanted to find them 
 nearer home. The appearance of men who, like Apollonius of 
 I } ana, had occasioned unusual excitement in the public mind 
 was employed against Christianity in two different ways' 
 Ihose who were m the habit of referring all extraordinary 
 phenomena of the religious spirit alike to fanaticism or fraud 
 men like Lucian, who placed Apollonius of Tyana on the 
 same level with Alexander of Abonoteichus,-—sought by the 
 means of this comparison to account also for the phenomena 
 and effects of Christianity. Others, again, would oppose 
 Apollonius, as a prophet and worker of miracles among the 
 Greeks, to the founder of the new religion. This was the 
 course adopted by Ilierocles. He wished to lessen the con- 
 straining evidence of the miracles of Christ by the miracles of 
 this Apollonius. He claimed implicit credit for every fable 
 which ages after the alleged events the rhetorical Philostratus 
 had diawn either from unauthenticated sources, or out of his 
 own imagination; as, for example, that Apollonius understood 
 tie language of brutes; while the apostles, uneducated, lyino- 
 men, jugglers, as Ilierocles abusively called them without 
 proving it,—are said by him to have stated nothing but false¬ 
 hoods. “ You hold Christ to be God,” lie said, “ because he 
 is leported to have restored a few blind men to sight and to 
 have done some other works of the like kind; amfyet Apol¬ 
 lonius, who was the author of so many miracles, is not held 
 by the Greeks to be a god, but only a man particularly 
 beloved of the gods.” Such was the peculiar method of 
 argument adopted by Ilierocles.* 
 
 I lie Life of Apollonius quoted by Ilierocles was composed 
 by the rhetorician Philostratus the elder, a favourite of Julia 
 Domna the wife of Septimius Severus. In it some have sup¬ 
 posed they could discover a covert attack upon Christianity. 
 Lut there is not a single passage of the work that furnishes 
 any evidence of such a design, even though it abounds in 
 
 * See respecting him Lactant. 1. V. c. 2; de mortib. persecutor, c. 
 Euseb. adv. Hierocl. 
 
 16 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS. 
 
 opportunities for introducing hostile remarks upon Christianity, 
 as, for instance, where it speaks of the Jews. On the other 
 hand, the writer mentions the fall of Jerusalem as a divine 
 retribution, of which the Boman arms were only the instru¬ 
 ment,* in such a way as seems to favour the interests of 
 Christianity, and as indeed might lead to the supposition that 
 he was unconsciously influenced by the mode of contemplating 
 that event which prevailed among the Christians. Yet our 
 remarks on Hierocles are not wholly inapplicable to the case 
 of Philostratus. Whether it sprang from a conscious design, or 
 from an involuntary interest, the effort is apparent in the work 
 to give dignity to his hero as a counterpart of Christ; but 
 in so doing we need not suppose that he was influenced by any 
 polemical aim against the Christian faith, but simply by a 
 wish to set forth the splendour of the Greek religion as able 
 to vie with Christianity'.j It may be that the miracles of 
 Christ, of which he was informed, furnished the occasion for 
 many scattered embellishments of his own invention, although 
 no trace of this can be found so distinct and palpable as to put 
 this matter beyond question. 
 
 These attacks on the Christian church were, from the time 
 of the emperor Hadrian and downwards, met by men who 
 zealously came forward in defence of Christianity and the 
 Christians. We reserve to another portion of our history a 
 full and detailed account of these apologists and of their 
 writings. Here we shall simply remark that these apologies 
 were of two different forms, and had two distinct objects in 
 view. One class were expositions of Christian doctrine, 
 designed for the use of enlightened pagans generally ; the 
 other class had a more official character, intended to advocate 
 the cause of the Christians before emperors or before the pro- 
 consuls and presidents of the provinces. As they could not 
 obtain a personal hearing, they were obliged to make them¬ 
 selves heard through their writings. The supposition that 
 
 * L. VI. c. 29, he makes Titus say, in reference to the destruction of 
 Jesusalem : Mw auris raZra. u^ydcrBai, Bia Ss o^yb Qrimvri ivnhdcoxivai rtts 
 
 * + As"Dr. Baur also supposes, in his Essay on Apollonios of Tyana (in 
 the Tubinuer Zeitschrift fiir Theologie. Jahrg. 1832, 4tes Heft, also 
 separately printed), although I cannot allow that all the references to 
 the history of Christ which Baur finds m this book are sufficiently 
 proved. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS. 
 
 243 
 
 the forms of address to the emperors, to the senate, and the 
 governors, were merely an ornamental dress given to these 
 works, after the fashion of the declamations practised in the 
 rhetorical schools of the pagans, is certainly inconsistent with 
 the situation and temper of the Christians of this time. It 
 is far more natural to suppose that the authors of such writings 
 were seeking to correct the judgment of the civil authorities 
 respecting Christianity and its adherents. We cannot wonder, 
 however, that these apologies seldom or never produced their 
 desired effect on the authorities, for the latter would hardly 
 give themselves the time, and still less tvere they in a suitable 
 mood, to examine with calmness the arguments of these apo¬ 
 logists. Even masterpieces of apologetic art—which these 
 productions, written from the fullness of conviction, were 
 certainly not—could, in such a case, have produced no effect; 
 for there was no possible way in which they could recommend 
 Christianity to Roman statesmen, who regarded religion exclu¬ 
 sively from a political point of view. This being the para¬ 
 mount principle of the Roman statesman, they availed nothing, 
 though they bore witness with the force of inspiration to 
 truths which had first gained a more general recognition 
 among men through the revolution in opinion brought about 
 by Christianity; though they appealed to the universal rights 
 of man inherent in him from the creation; though they 
 assumed as a point which every man must concede, that 
 religion is a matter of freedom of conviction and feeling, that 
 belief cannot be forced, that God cannot be served with the 
 worship of constraint. “ It is a part of human right and 
 natural prerogative that every individual,” says Tertullian, 
 “ should worship the God in whom he believes ; it is no busi¬ 
 ness of religion to force religion ; it must be embraced volun¬ 
 tarily, not imposed by constraint, as sacrifices are required 
 only from the willing heart. Although, then, you should 
 compel us to sacrifice, you will still gain nothing for your 
 gods.” * But by the principle of the Roman law, which here 
 came immediately into consideration, there was no question 
 respecting the inward, religion, but only respecting the out- 
 
 * Hurnani juris et naturalis potestatis est unicuique, quod putaverit, 
 colere, nee alii obest aut prodest alterius religio. Sed uec religionis est, 
 cogere religionem, qua; spoute suscipi debeat, non vi, cum et hostia; ab 
 ammo libeuti expostulentur. Ad Scapulam, c. 2. 
 
 R 2 
 
244 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS. 
 
 ward fulfilment of the laws , the observance of the “ Roman 
 ceremonies.” It made no distinction between men and citi¬ 
 zens. The apologists might appeal to the blameless lives of 
 the Christians; they might challenge the magistrates to sub¬ 
 ject them to the severest judicial examinations, and, if any were 
 found guilty, to punish them; but this could avail nothing. 
 The more intelligent had long since ceased to believe the 
 strange and fabulous reports of the populace. Like Pliny, 
 they could not accuse the Christians, as a body, of any moral 
 delinquency. But yet the Christian life appeared to them 
 incompatible with the “ Roman manners,” and Christianity a 
 feverish fanaticism dangerous to the good order of the Roman 
 state. 
 
 It was a sound and healthy feeling that induced the apolo¬ 
 gists of Christianity to assume the existence of a prophetic 
 element, not in Judaism alone, but also in paganism, and to 
 appeal to this in the same way as the Apostle Paul at Athens, 
 in proclaiming the God of revelation, appealed to that pre¬ 
 sentiment of the unknown God which lives in the immediate 
 consciousness of mankind, and to the way in which this feeling 
 had gained expression in the words of inspired poets. Christ¬ 
 ianity, in truth, is the end to which all development of the 
 religious consciousness necessarily tended, and to it, therefore, 
 the latter could not fail to furnish prophetic testimony. Thus 
 there dwelt a prophetic element, not barely in revealed reli¬ 
 gion, as it was gradually unfolded beneath the fostering care 
 of the divine vintager (John xv.)—as from Judaism it swelled 
 to its fullest expansion in Christianity—but also in that religion 
 which had sprung up wild * on the soil of paganism, but 
 which, even with the unconsciousness of nature, tended towards 
 the same end. But though, in their search for such points of 
 agreement, the apologists had a well-founded right to search 
 those stages of culture out of which they themselves had passed 
 into Christianity, and for this purpose made copious collections 
 from the ancient philosophers and poets, still they had not yet 
 
 * I here make use of an expression coined for this purpose by Schel- 
 ling, a man endowed above all others with the gift of finding its right 
 word for the expression of the idea,—to mark the notion of natural 
 religion in its relation to the religion of revelation. In like manner, 
 Clement of Alexandria styles the Hellenic philosophy, in its relation to 
 Christianity, the dyot'iXaios. Strom. VI. f. 672. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS. 
 
 245 
 
 passed far enough out of the very process of development to 
 be able rightly to understand the earlier culture, either in its 
 opposition to Christianity or in its relationship and introduc¬ 
 tion to it. It was only what might easily happen if they were 
 led insensibly to transfer their Christian mode of apprehension 
 to their earlier positions, and allowed themselves to be deceived 
 by mere appearances of resemblance. Add to this, that Alex¬ 
 andrian Jews and pagan Platonists had already palmed off 
 many forgeries under the famous names of antiquity, which 
 might be taken as testimonies in behalf of the religious truths 
 advanced by Christianity in opposition to pagan polytheism. 
 And at a time when critical skill, as well as interest in critical 
 inquiries, was unknown, it would be easy for men who, under 
 the influence of a purely religious interest, were seeking for 
 testimonies from among the ancients, to be imposed upon by 
 spurious and interpolated matter, as was not seldom the case 
 with the Christian apologists. 
 
 For instance, interpolated writings of this kind, passing 
 under the name of that mythic personage of antiquity, the 
 Grecian Hermes (Trismegistus) or the Egyptian Thoth—also 
 under the names of the Persian Hystaspes (Gushtasp), and of 
 the Sibyls, so celebrated in the Greek and Roman legends— 
 were alike used in good faith by the apologists. Whatever 
 truth might be lying at the bottom of those ancient legends of 
 the Sibylline prophecies,* of which the profound Heraclitus, 
 five hundred years before Christ, had said, “ Their unadorned 
 earnest words, spoken with inspired mouth, reach through a 
 thousand years,” f most unquestionably the consciousness of 
 such a prophetic element in paganism-—all that in these pre- 
 
 * The prophetic element, as a natural power in a religion of nature, 
 is characteristically distinguished from the supernatural prophetic ele¬ 
 ment of revealed religion. Thus we find the character of the former 
 expressed in ancient verses, cited under the name of the Sibyl, in Plu¬ 
 tarch de Pythia) oraculis, C. 9: ‘[1; ovli dffc$a.vovtru Xv£,u fjjUvrtKtj;, aXX' 
 avrt) pj,tv ■ c vjrri atXvvri orsonici to xaXovy.-s.von tpaivoyivov ysvoy'ivv or^oauorov, tu 2s 
 aioi to ornvya avyxouSiv Iv ip-siyai; dl) QoovtrtTai xa) xXrihotnv, lx 2s tov trcouaro; 
 fxirafiaXovro; iv rjj y >j orca; xa1 vX> j; dvaQvoy sv»;, (ooaxwiTai ravrnv hgd As 
 
 vs oravTohaordi "<rx,ovTa xa) yo^tpd; xa) oroiorvra; It) tuv evXdyy^vuv, 
 d<p’ uv a) TTgo'SnXuirii; avS-gdoroi; tov [jAxXovto;. 
 
 f ~i(luXXa yanoyivu aroyan ayiXatTTa xa) dxaXXcjTurra xa) dyvoLCTa 
 tp^tiyyofj.ivy) xiXiwv ituv l^ixvsTrai tv <puvv 2;a tov Bsov. Plutarch, de 
 Pythite oraculis, c. 6. 
 
246 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN APOLOGISTS. 
 
 dictions spoke of the fates of cities and nations, and more 
 particularly of a final and a golden age of the world,* * * § gave 
 occasion to divers interpretations based upon Jewish and 
 Christian principles; and as it had been the practice from very 
 early times, with both pagans and Jews, to interpolate the 
 Sibylline predictions t with spurious verses, accommodated to 
 their respective religious views, so, from the very first century 
 after Christ, Christian fiction added its quota to the rest. 
 When Celsus reproached the Christians with interpolating many 
 scandalous things into the Sibylline writings,{ Origen in his 
 reply could appeal to the fact that the more ancient Sibylline 
 writings were full of interpolations. "With this use of the so 
 called "Sibylline prophecies, all Christians, however, were not 
 satisfied. Celsus mentions the Sibyllists § among the various 
 Christian sects, and Origen accounts for it by supposing that 
 Celsus might some time or other have heard this name applied 
 in reproach to those who quoted the Sibyl as a prophetess by 
 other Christians who did not approve of this practice. This, 
 however, is not to be understood as implying that such oppo¬ 
 nents of the Sibylline prophecies had, on critical grounds, 
 ascertained the spuriousness of these writings, || and therefore 
 refused to countenance such a fraud for pious purposes. It is 
 far more probable to suppose that they revolted, a priori , at 
 the very hypothesis of anything like prophetical power having 
 existed among the heathen. 
 
 While, by others, the testimonies, genuine and interpolated, 
 derived from heathen literature, were employed against the 
 pagans, Tertullian chose a different course. Disposed to see 
 in all culture, and science, and art, the falsification of original 
 truth, he preferred to appeal to the involuntary utterances of 
 the immediate, original voice of God in nature. As evidence 
 for Christian truth against polytheism, he appealed to the 
 spontaneous expressions of an irrepressible and immediate 
 religious consciousness in common life—the testimony of the 
 
 * Ultima Curnaei carminis aetas ; vid. Virgil, IV. Eclog. 
 
 -j- Varro, in his great archaeological ■work, treated, already in his 
 time, of the different constituent parts of the Sibylline books, and of the 
 interpolated verses. See Dionysius of Halicam. Archaeol. 1. IV. c. 62. 
 
 + L. VII. c. 56 : " Oti 'TraoiA'yvci^av it; rcc ixitiri; aroXXcc y.a) fiXatnpti/Jia. 
 
 § c. Cels. 1. V. c. 61. 
 
 j| Testimonium animai naturaliter Christianae. Apologet. c. 17. 
 
TERTULLIAN. 
 
 247 
 
 soul, which he held to be Christian by nature*—the testimony 
 of the simple, uncultivated, ignorant soul, previous to all 
 education.t In his apology addressed to the pagans he makes 
 appeal to this witness of the soul, “ which, though confined in 
 the prison of the body, though led astray by wrong training, 
 though enfeebled by the desires and passions, yet, when it 
 comes to itself, as out of a fit of intoxication, as out of a sleep, 
 out of a disease, and when conscious of its healthful condition, 
 calls God simply by this name alone, because it is the proper 
 name of the true God. Great God — good God — and what 
 God gives,—these are common expressions with all. It also 
 adjures this God as its judge in such expression as these: 
 God is my witness—to God I commit my cause—God will 
 requite me. Finally, in using these expressions, it looks, not 
 to the Capitol, but upward to heaven; for it knows the seat of 
 the living God—from Him and from thence it descended.” t 
 
 * De testimonio animm, c. 1: Te simplicem et rudcm et impolitam 
 et idioticam compello, qualem habcnt, qui te solain kabent, illam ipsarn 
 de compito, de trivio, de textrino totam. 
 
 f Apologet. c. 17. 
 
 j Quae, licet carcere corporis pressa, licet institutionibus praxis cir¬ 
 cumscripta, licet libidinibus ac concupiscentiis evigorata, licet falsis Diis 
 exancillata, cum tamen resipiscit, ut ex crapula, ut ex somno, ut ex 
 aliqua valetudine, et sanitatem suarn patitur, Deum nominat, hoc solo 
 nomine, quia proprio Dei veri. Deus xnagnus, Deus bonus, et quod Deiis 
 dederit, omnium vox est. Judicem quoque contestatur ilium, Deus videt, 
 et Deo commendo, et Deus mihi reddet. Denique, pronuntians kcec, non 
 ad Capitolium, sed ad coelum respicit. Novit enim sedem Dei vivi, ab 
 illo et inde descendit. 
 
248 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH; 
 
 SECTION SECOND. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH CONSTITUTION, OF CHURCH 
 DISCIPLINE, AND OF SCHISMS IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 I. History of the Constitution of the Church. 
 
 1. Of the Constitution of Church Communities generally. 
 
 In the history of the formation of the constitution of the 
 Christian church, two different epochs require to be carefully 
 distinguished -.—the first epoch of its formation , as, in the 
 Apostolic age , it sprang out of the peculiar essence of Christi¬ 
 anity —that essential character of Christianity whereby it is 
 wholly distinguished, as well from the Old Testament position 
 as from all the previous forms of religious community; and 
 secondly , the concluding epoch , in which this original form of 
 fellowship among Christians became gradually changed under 
 various foreign influences. We speak first, then, of the foun¬ 
 dation laid for the constitution of Christian communities in 
 the Apostolic age. 
 
 A. The first foundation for the constitution of Christian 
 communities in the Apostolic age. 
 
 What Moses expressed as a wish that the Spirit of God 
 might rest upon all, and all might be prophets—seems to me 
 a prediction of that which was to be realised through Christ. 
 By him was to be instituted a fellowship of divine life, which, 
 proceeding from the equal and equally immediate relation of 
 all to the one God, as the divine source of life to all, should 
 lemove those boundaries within which, at the Old Testament 
 position, the development of the higher life was still confined ; 
 and hence the fellowship thus derived w r ould essentially distin¬ 
 guish itself from the constitution of all previously existing 
 religious societies. There could, in such a society, be no 
 
 * Numbers 11 , 29. ' 
 
EQUALITY OF BELIEVERS. 
 
 249 
 
 longer a priestly or prophetic office, constituted to serve as a 
 medium for the propagation and development of the kingdom 
 of God, on which office the religious consciousness of the 
 community was to be dependent. Such a guild of priests as 
 existed in the previous systems of religion, empowered to 
 guide other men, who remained, as it were, in a state of reli¬ 
 gious pupilage; having the exclusive care of providing for 
 their religious wants, and serving as mediators by whom all 
 other men must first be placed in connection with God and 
 divine things—such a priestly caste could find no place within 
 Christianity. In removing that which separated men from 
 Crod, m communicating to all the same fellowship with God, 
 Christ also removed the barrier which had hitherto divided 
 men from one another. Christ, the Prophet and High Priest 
 for entire humanity, was the end of the prophetic office and of 
 the priesthood. There was now the same High Priest and 
 Mediator for all, through whom all men, being once reconciled 
 and united with God, are themselves made a priestly and 
 spiritual race; one heavenly King, Guide, and Teacher, 
 through whom all are taught of God; one faith, one hope, one 
 bpim which should quicken all; one oracle in the hearts of 
 
 all, the voice of the Spirit proceeding from the Father;_all 
 
 were to be citizens of one heavenly kingdom, with whose hea¬ 
 venly powers, even while strangers in the world, they should 
 be already furnished. When the Apostles applied the Old 
 lestament idea of the priesthood to Christianity, this seems 
 to me to have been done invariably for the simple purpose of 
 showing that no such visible, particular priesthood could find 
 place m the new community ; that since free access to God 
 and to heaven had by the one High Priest, even Christ, been 
 opened once for all to believers, they had, by virtue of their 
 union to him, become themselves a spiritual people, conse¬ 
 crated to God; their calling being none other than to dedi¬ 
 cate their entire life to God as a thank-offering for the grace 
 of redemption, to publisn abroad the power and grace of Him 
 who had called them out of the kingdom of darkness into his 
 marvellous light, to make their life one continual priesthood, 
 one spiritual worship springing from the temper of faith 
 working by love—one continuous testimony for their Saviour. 
 (Compare 1 Pet. ii. 9; Korn. xii. 1 ; and the spirit and whole 
 tram of thought running through the Epistle to the Hebrews.) 
 
250 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH, 
 
 So, too, the advancement of God’s kingdom in general and m 
 particular, the diffusion of Christianity among the heathens 
 and the good of each particular community, was now to be 
 the duty not of one select class of Christians alone, but the 
 immediate concern of each individual. Every one, from the 
 position assigned him by the invisible Head of the church, 
 ought to cooperate in promoting this object by the special 
 gifts which God had bestowed on him—gifts grounded in his 
 peculiar nature , but that nature renewed and ennobled by the 
 Holy Spirit. There was no distinction here of spiritual and 
 secular; but all, as Christians, should, in their inner life, in 
 temper and disposition, be dead to the ungodlike, to the world, 
 and in so far separate from the world—men animated by the 
 Spirit of God and not by the spirit of the world. The indi¬ 
 vidual predominant capabilities of Christians, sanctified, made 
 godly by this Spirit, and appropriated as organs for its acti¬ 
 vity, should be tranformed to charismata , gifts of grace. 
 Thus, therefore, in his 1 Cor. xii., did the Apostle begin his 
 exposition—“ Once, when ye were heathens, ye suffered your¬ 
 selves to be led blindly by your priests to dumb idols; ye 
 were dead and dumb as they. Now, while ye serve the living 
 God, through Christ, ye have no longer any such leaders to 
 draw you along blindly by leading-strings. Ye have now for 
 your guide the Spirit of God, who illuminates you. Ye follow 
 no more dumbly. He speaks by you ; there are diversities of 
 gifts, but the same Spirit.” * 
 
 The essence of the Christian community rested on this: 
 that no one individual should be the chosen preeminent organ 
 of the Holy Spirit for the guidance of the whole ; but, for the 
 
 * [Such is the paraphrase which Neander can allow himself in order 
 to prove his hypothesis. If it had been the Apostle’s argument to prove 
 the jjjucility of all the members, his illustration from the “ less honour¬ 
 able'’ and “ uncomely parts,” and the “ part that lacked,” would be out of 
 place. Besides, does he not deny the equality of all in vv. 29, 30, 
 when he asks if all are Apostles, &c. ? Again, if there were to be no 
 
 f uides or rulers, why bid the Hebrews (xiii. 17) to “ obey those that 
 ave the rule over them (their guides or rulers, byovf/ivois) ? see also 
 v. 7, 1 Thess. v. 12, (jrjaia-ra^vavj.) That the Apostles did not leave the 
 whole church to propagate and keep up the life of Christianity, but did 
 appoint a select class for that purpose, is plain from 1 Tim. iii. 2, &c.; 
 iv. 14 ; 2 Tim. ii.; Tit. i. 5. If 1 Pet. ii. 9, &c., is a proof that 
 Christianity w r as to have no separate priesthood, then Exod. xix. 5, 6, 
 must prove that the Jews had none, which is absurd. Eng. Editor .] 
 
 s i r 
 
DIFFERENT CHARISMATA. 
 
 251 
 
 advancement of the Christian life and of the common end, all 
 were to cooperate—each at his particular position, and with 
 the gifts bestowed on him, one supplying what might be 
 wanted by another. In this view of it, the idea of the 
 charisma which I think is set forth in the New Testament 
 becomes important. The charisma designates the individuality 
 and diversity in the operations of the Spirit that quickens all, 
 as contradistinguished from that which in all is the same; it 
 is the peculiar kind and manner or form of the operation of 
 that common principle, so far as it is modified by the peculiar 
 natural characteristics of each individual. Just as the unity 
 of that higher Spirit necessarily manifests itself in the multi¬ 
 plicity of the charismata, so these various peculiarities, quick¬ 
 ened by the same Spirit, are to serve as organs which, by 
 their mutual cooperation, are to bring about one common end 
 —the edification of the church. We understand edification 
 here in its general and original sense, as given to it in St. 
 Paul’s writings, as referring to the advancement and develop¬ 
 ment, from its common ground, of the whole life of the 
 chuch. The edification of the church, in this sense, was the 
 common work of all. Even edification by the word was not 
 assigned exclusively to one individual; eveiy man who felt 
 the inward call to it might give utterance to the word in the 
 assembled church. With a view to the same end there was 
 likewise a difference of gifts, grounded in the diversity of the 
 peculiar natures which were severally quickened by the Holy 
 Spirit; according, for example, as the productive faculty 
 (prophecy), or the receptive (interpretation, the Suppr/veta), 
 or the critical (proving of spirits) prevailed; or according 
 as the capacity for feeling and intuition, or that of sober 
 reflective thought, predominated ; according as the Divine, in 
 its overwhelming force, had the predominance, and the Human, 
 in its independent development, gave place to it; or as both 
 the Divine and the Human harmonized and cooperated, ac¬ 
 cording as inspiration came with a momentaneous and sudden 
 seizure, or what was contained in the Christian consciousness 
 became unfolded through a process of thought quickened by 
 the Holy Spirit (where again there were manifold gradations, 
 from an ecstatic elevation of mind down to the uniform, dis¬ 
 creet, and cautious unfolding of the understanding, speaking 
 with tongues, prophecy, the ordinary gift of teacliing) ;—in 
 
CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 252 
 
 fine, according as the prevailing tendency was to the theore¬ 
 tical or to the practical (the Gnosis or the Sophia). 
 
 Since Christianity was not. to destroy any of those natural 
 distinctions which were grounded in the laws of the original 
 creation, but to sanctify and ennoble them (for our Saviour’s 
 words, that he came not to destroy but to fulfil, apply also to 
 the natural world) : so, although the partition-wall between 
 man and woman, in respect to the higher life, was broken 
 down by Christ, and in him man and woman become one, 
 Christianity would still have the woman remain true to the 
 particular sphere and destination assigned to her by nature. 
 Women were forbidden to take any public part in the transac¬ 
 tions of the church ; assigned to their appropriate sphere of 
 activity within the bosom of the family, they were to hold 
 corresponding place in the administration of its private affairs. 
 The Apostle Paul (1 Cor. xiv. 34) interdicts the female part 
 of the church alone from publicly speaking in the assemblies ; 
 which again seems to me to make it evident that, among the 
 Christians, no other exception existed to the universality of 
 this right. The latter exception, however, continued to be made 
 in succeeding times. Even the enthusiastic Montanists recog- 
 
 1 —^ ^ ^ O 
 
 nised its validity, only they maintained that the extraordinary 
 operations of the divine Spirit were not bound by any such rule. 
 In proof of this they referred to the case of the prophetesses 
 mentioned in 1 Cor. xi. 5 ; though they did so incorrectly, 
 since in this passage the Apostle simply speaks of a practice 
 that prevailed in the Corinthian church without approving it, 
 but with a design of correcting it in a later part of the epistle. 
 This is evident from a comparison of 1 Cor. xi. 5, with xiv. 34.* 
 
 As, however, from the very first, the inner fellowship of 
 divine life, which Christianity introduced, strove to exhibit 
 itself in an outward fellowship, it must necessarily adopt some 
 determinate form, which should be agreeable to its own 
 
 * The Hilary who wrote commentaries on the Epistles of St. Paul is 
 remarkable for the freedom from prejudice with which he contemplates 
 Christian antiquity. In speaking of these matters, also, he correctly 
 distinguishes the earlier from the later practice of the church. Primum 
 omnes docebant et omnes baptizabant, ut cresceret plebs et multiplica- 
 retur, omnibus inter initia concessum est, et evangelizare et baptizare et 
 scripturas explanare. Hilar, in epist. Ephes. c. IV. v. 12. [But see the 
 context as to who are meant by “ omnes ”—plainly the “ clerici.” Eng. 
 Ed.'] 
 
ITS ORGANIZATION'—NOT MONARCHICAL. 
 
 253 
 
 essence, and in which it could shape and manifest itself as a 
 spiritual body. For without such a form no association, what¬ 
 ever its purpose, can long continue to subsist. To this end 
 a certain organization was necessary-—a certain relative subor¬ 
 dination of the different members, according to the different 
 positions assigned them in reference to the whole;—a certain 
 guidance and direction of the common concerns, and conse¬ 
 quently a distinction of organs destined to effect the several 
 ends. And this does not in anywise contradict what we for¬ 
 merly asserted respecting the essential character of Christi¬ 
 anity and of the fellowship which is founded therein, or 
 respecting the mutual relations of Christians. On the con¬ 
 trary, the natural relation of members to one another points of 
 itself to some such organic form as indispensable in the con¬ 
 stitution of the community. For as there were individual 
 characters predominantly productive, and others of a more 
 receptive bent; as there were those preeminently calculated to 
 guide and rule; and as the Christian life shaped itself to the 
 form of these natural peculiarities, which it ennobled—the na¬ 
 tural talent being elevated to a charisma—the result was that 
 some members of the community would come to be possessed 
 of the gift which is designated in the epistles of St. Paul as 
 the yapicrpa KvfiepviiaeioQ (governments). This mutual relation 
 of gifts grounded on the natural talents of individuals pointed 
 to a corresponding relation of the several members of the 
 community to one another. The xapio-pu Kvflepviiavojg required, 
 in the organization of the church, a corresponding office, the 
 fitness for which had been conferred by that gift. This was a 
 whole, composed of homogeneous members, all these being 
 but the organs of the community, as the latter was the body 
 quickened by the Spirit of Christ. As organs of the whole 
 and of the one Spirit which gave it life, these several members 
 were to cooperate, each in its appropriate place, for the com¬ 
 mon end ; and in this organization of parts some acted pre¬ 
 eminently as the ruling members. But in a natural way the 
 essence of the Christian life and of Christian communion could 
 hardly lead to this guidance being placed in the hands of a 
 single individual. The monarchical form, of government was 
 in no ways suited to the Christian community of spirit. 
 
 The preeminence of a single individual at the head of the 
 whole was too likely to operate as a check on the free develop- 
 
254 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 ment of the life of the church, and the free action of the difler- 
 rent organs, in whom it was necessary to keep alive a con¬ 
 sciousness of mutual independence. The individual on whom 
 everything would in such a constitution be made to depend, 
 might acquire too great an importance for the rest, and conse¬ 
 quently become the centre round which all would gather, in 
 such a manner as to obscure the sense of their common rela¬ 
 tion to that One who ought to be the centre for all. The 
 Apostles stood to the collective body of Christians in a rela¬ 
 tion which corresponded to their peculiar position in the 
 development of the church, and for that very reason it could 
 not be transferred to another office; for they alone were to be 
 the bearers of Christ’s word and spirit for all ages—the chosen 
 witnesses of his person and ministry, as well as of his resur¬ 
 rection to a new and more glorious state of being—the neces¬ 
 sary intermediate links by which the whole church was to be 
 connected with Christ. This was a relation of dependence 
 and subordination, grounded in the nature of the historical 
 development, which could not be repeated. And the Apostles 
 themselves, to whom this position in the guidance of the 
 church belonged—how far were they from exercising a con¬ 
 straining authority in its affairs, or to lord it over the faith, 
 which, the foundations having once been laid, was thence¬ 
 forward to develop itself with freedom, and give shape to 
 everything by its own inherent power alone! What respect 
 did not they show for the free development of the collective 
 body ! They endeavoured to obtain the free cooperation of the 
 several communities in all the affairs which concerned these 
 bodies—a point on which we shall speak more particularly 
 hereafter. St. Peter and St. John, in their epistles, place 
 themselves in the same class with the leaders of the churches, 
 instead of claiming a place above them as general rulers of 
 the church.* How difficult would it be to find an individual 
 uniting in himself all the qualifications for guiding the affairs 
 of the body, and possessing the confidence of all ! How much 
 easier to find in every community several fathers of families, 
 whose respective qualifications might supply the deficiencies 
 of each other ! individually, one might enjoy the greatest con¬ 
 fidence with one, and a second with some other class of the 
 community; both together, therefore, being qualified for such 
 [* Does not St. Peter style himself an apostle as well as elder ?] 
 
PRESBYTERS. 
 
 255 
 
 a function. Monarchy in spiritual things does not harmonise 
 with the spirit of Christianity, for this points everywhere to 
 the feeling of a mutual need, to the necessity and to the bless¬ 
 ing as well of common deliberation as of common prayer 
 Where two or three are gathered together in the name of the 
 Lord, he promises to be in the midst of them. 
 
 Besides, Christianity freely appropriated to its own use such 
 existing forms as were adapted to its spirit and essential 
 character. I\ow in the Jewish synagogue, and in all the 
 sects that sprang out of Judaism, there existed a form of 
 government which was not monarchical, but aristocratical con¬ 
 sisting of a council of elders, O'M, 7r pEfffivrepoi, who had the 
 guidance of all affairs belonging to the common interest To 
 this form, Christianity, which unfolded itself out of Judaism 
 would most naturally attach itself. The same polity, more¬ 
 over, would appear most natural whenever churches were 
 founded among the pagans in any part of the Roman empire, 
 for here men had long been accustomed to see the affairs of 
 state administered by a senate or assembly of decuriones. It 
 is, to my mind, an evidence of such an affinity between the 
 ecclesiastical and the civil form of administration, that at a 
 somewhat later period the clergy were denominated ordo the 
 guiding senate of the community, since ordo stands preeminently 
 for the ordo senatorum.* J 
 
 The guidance of the communities was therefore most pro¬ 
 bably intrusted everywhere to a council of elders. It was not 
 necessary that these should be the oldest in years, though some 
 respect doubtless was had to age. Age was here generally a 
 designation of worth, as in the Latin «senatus,” and in the 
 Greek “ yEpovaia.” Besides the usual name, w pea€vre P m, given 
 to the heads of the church, there were also many others, denot- 
 ^eir appropriate sphere of action, as tt oipsysg, shepherds; 
 
 ' ■ t:- iryovyevoi, TEpoEorwrEg tu>v (tCeXc/xioy. The founding of 
 churches among the pagans led to another name, more con¬ 
 formable to the Grecian mode of designating such relations 
 than the terms above cited, which clearly bespeak their Jewish 
 origin, this name was LivioKoiroi, borrowed from the civil 
 
 [Lut if the Jewish analogy influenced the form of the Christian 
 community as a religious body, the religious institution of the priest¬ 
 hood was more likely to recommend itself than the civil one of the 
 elders.] ^ ..... 
 
 * 
 
256 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 form of government among the Greeks,* and applied to the 
 presiding officers of the Christian churches, as overseers of 
 the whole, and leaders of the community. 
 
 That the name ewiitkottoi, or bishops, was altogether synony¬ 
 mous with that of presbyters, is clearly evident from those 
 passages of scripture where both passages are used inter¬ 
 changeably (Acts xx., comp. v. 17 with v. 28; Ep. to Titus, 
 c. i. v. 5 with v. 7), and from those where the office of deacon 
 is named immediately after that of bishop, so that between 
 these two offices no third one could possibly intervene. Ep. to 
 Philipp, i. 1 ; 1 Tim. iii. 1 and 8. This interchange of the 
 two appellations shows that originally they were perfectly 
 identical. Even -were the name bishop originally nothing 
 more than the distinctive title of a president of this church- 
 senate, of a Primus inter pares, yet even in this case such an 
 interchange would be altogether inadmissible. So, too, in the 
 letter which Clement, the disciple of Paul, writes in the name 
 of the Roman church, the deacons are immediately named 
 after the bishops as the rulers of the churches.f 
 
 * See on this point my Hist, of the Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. I9S. 
 
 f See Cap. 42. [The identity of the terms rr^o-liuTiooi and is 
 
 not disputed ; neither is there any question whether a third order inter- 
 vened between the bishops or elders and the deacons ; but whether 
 scripture does not under another name recognise a third order above 
 both. We read of Timothy and Titus being appointed to “charge 
 others what doctrines they should teach,” (1 Tim. i. 3,) “ to set in order 
 the things that were wanting, and to ordain elders in every city,” (Tit. 
 i. 5,) and to ordain deacons, 1 Tim. iii. 8, “by laying on of hands,” 
 ib. v. 22. Thus then, scripture distinctly sets before us three orders: 
 1. Apostles appointed by Apostles (as Timothy and Titus were by St. 
 Paul); 2. Bishops or elders ; 3. Deacons (the last two being appointed 
 by the first). But Timothy and Titus were commissioned by St. Paul 
 not only to ordain the second and third orders, they were also empowered 
 to select successors to themselves in the first (2 Tim. ii. 2). But these 
 “ faithful men ” were no longer called Apostles, this term being for 
 distinction’s sake confined to such as had been chosen Apostles by the 
 Lord himself, and so promoted in its use; those who were elected by 
 men (by the Apostles and their successors) to the apostolical office 
 were henceforward termed bishops, the word WitmoTo;, which originally 
 applied to him who had the care of a single church, being now promoted 
 to designate one who had “ the care of all the churches” in a district. 
 (Theod. ad 1 Tim. p. 652, Tom. iii. and Hilary ad Gal. i. 1.) Thus 
 then, while the scriptural names have for good reasons been changed 
 from, 1, Apostles; 2, Elders and Bishops; 3, Deacons ; to 1, Bishops; 2, 
 Priests; and 3, Deacons, the scriptural fact of three orders, with their 
 scriptural functions, has remained unchanged. Eng. Ed A 
 
PRESBYTERS AND BISHOPS. 
 
 257 
 
 Hitherto we have gone on the supposition, that, from the 
 beginning, one single community was formed in each town 
 under the guidance of a senate of elders. Are we warranted 
 m so supposing ? An opposite hypothesis has, in more recent, 
 times, been advanced by several writers.* According to this 
 view, the converts to Christianity did not from the beginning 
 at least not in the larger towns, form themselves into one 
 single community ; but as Christianity was introduced from 
 many different quarters and by different preachers, several 
 snuM communities must have been founded independently of 
 each other, and which, holding their assemblies at different 
 places long remained separate. It was only at a later date that, 
 from the union of these several smaller bodies, one community 
 was formed. Of such separate churches, previous to the for¬ 
 mation of one community, indications, it is supposed, are found 
 in those passages of St. Paul’s epistles where one person, with 
 the church assembling in his house, is greeted. Coloss, iv 15 - 
 1 Conth. XVI. 19; Rom. xvi. 5—14, 15; Philem. 2. Each 
 of these little communities is supposed to have had its own 
 presiding officer, and in this sense, it is argued, the monar- 
 c ncal was the original form of government in the church. 
 According to one view, the disputes of these little bands and of 
 their rulers one with another first caused a want to be felt of 
 greater unity and closer connection under a common head and 
 thereby promoted the gradual formation of an episcopal 
 government in the church. According to the other view the 
 name £7noxo7rot designated originally the function of these local 
 presidents, and the name presbyters was applied to the colleo-e 
 of the presidents of the several communities ° 
 
 Such an atomical theory, however, corresponds certainly but 
 veiy little with the essence of Christianity and of the Christian 
 communion of the Spirit, which tended everywhere to fellow¬ 
 ship and unity and conveyed to all the consciousness of 
 
 thi°Zw g T f b ° dy,t Throughout the epistles of 
 
 the -New Testament, Christians of the same city appear to be 
 
 * Dr. Kist of Leyden; see his Essay on the Origin of the Enisconal 
 Power m the Ohnstian Church, translated from the Dutch in Hlgen’s 
 Zeitschrift fur die histonsche Theologie, Bd. II otes Stuck S 4 S 
 and Dr. von Baur in his Treatise on the Pastoral Letters ’ 
 
 nfll „p! P ' J hat / haVe sa,d m objection to this theory, in my History 
 of the Planting &c pp. 49 and 199 ; also Rothe, in his work Uber d'e 
 
 Anfange der Chnsthchen Kirche, p. 197 &c le 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 S 
 
258 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 associated together and to form one A/ATjofa. This unity is 
 never represented to us as something which is yet to take 
 place, but as the original form, having its ground in the very 
 essence of the Christian consciousness. On the contrary, the 
 party divisions which, as in the Corinthian church, threatened 
 to dissolve this unity, appear to be a morbid affection which 
 had subsequently crept in. And if portions of the church 
 sometimes formed separate assemblies in the houses of such 
 individuals as possessed local conveniences for the purpose, or 
 who, by preaching the word, were eminently qualified to edify 
 those who assembled in their dwellings,* yet it was at a later 
 date that this first occurred, when the communities that were 
 already regularly organised became more numerous. And 
 even then those who met in such assemblies did not, by so 
 doing, separate themselves from the great whole of the com¬ 
 munity which subsisted under the guiding senate. Of course, 
 on this supposition, the distinction between bishops and pres¬ 
 byters, which, we think, has its sole ground in the above- 
 mentioned theory, vanishes, and all the difference that we can 
 admit is, that the latter was particularly the name of dignity, 
 while the former name designated the function or particula. 
 sphere of activity. , 
 
 These presbyters or bishops, then, as we variously call the 
 same functionaries considered from different points of view, 
 had the general superintendence of the communities, the 
 direction of all affairs pertaining to the common interest; but 
 the office of teaching was not committed exclusively to them. 
 For, as we have already remarked, all Christians originally 
 had the right of pouring out their hearts before the brethren, 
 and of speaking in the public assemblies for their edification. 
 It does not follow, however, from this, that all the members 
 of a community were fitted for the ordinary and regular office 
 of teaching. A distinction must be made between such a gift 
 of teaching as, like every other cultivated talent, would be 
 always constantly at the command of him who had once 
 acquired it, and those effusions which, proceeding from the 
 inspiration of the moment,f were connected with isolated and 
 
 * Comp, my Hist, of the Planting, &c., p. 208. 
 
 f As prophecy, speaking with tongues. I will take this occasion to 
 point out a passage in Irenseus w-hich serves to confirm what I have so 
 often advanced, that by the gift of tongues, was designated something 
 
OFFICE OF TEACHING. 
 
 259 
 
 transient states of elevated feeling, and which, in an especial 
 manner, belonged to the characteristic features of that primi¬ 
 tive time of extraordinary mental excitement from above, when 
 the divine life was first entering the terrestrial world, and when 
 sudden transitions of conversion were naturally more frequent. 
 On such transient awakenings and excitements of the religious 
 consciousness alone it was impossible to depend for the neces¬ 
 sary care in preserving, propagating, and advancing religious 
 knowledge, and in defending the genuine, pure, and apostoli¬ 
 cal doctrine against the ever-threatening outbursts of corrupting- 
 tendencies, whether to Jewish or to pagan modes of thinking 
 Christianity required for its ministry knowledge no less than 
 ee mg. \ lerever either of these two faculties predominated 
 to the exclusion of the other, a disturbance of the Christian 
 consciousness and life invariably ensued. That healthv and 
 harmonious development, by virtue of which the exclusive 
 preponderance of any single charisma was prevented, was 
 one of the characteristic features of the apostolic period. 
 Hence the watchfulness of the Apostle St. Paul to counteract 
 any exclusive tendency of this kind which threatened to inter- 
 fere_ with the harmonious and healthy development of the 
 Christian life. We see this most distinctly in his first epistle 
 to the Corinthians. Care, therefore, was to be taken in the 
 several churches that, along with those utterances of extra¬ 
 ordinary inspiration which were not attached to any particular 
 function there should never fail to be a supply of men quali- 
 , to satisfy the needs of knowledge, and capable of unfolding: 
 to others and of defending Christian truth, —the function 
 
 ThTntm 7 116 X ° y0C and the oWWaAmc. 
 
 1 e tatter presupposed a certain previous cultivation of the 
 
 unc erstandmg, a power of clear and discriminating thought, 
 
 T1?p n 16r W - h a facilit y in communicating it to others. 
 
 e possession of all this, when once quickened by the agency 
 of the Holy Spirit, became a charisma of this kind. Such 
 as possessed tins charisma were thereby fitted to take care 
 
 i W dl c ered ° nl3 i ia de S ree ’ not in kind, from the prophetic pi ft _ an 
 
260 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 both for the continual preservation of sound doctrine within 
 the church, and for the establishment and propagation of 
 Christian knowledge, though not in such a manner as to ex¬ 
 clude the cooperation of the others, who were at liberty to 
 assist, each from his own position and according to his par¬ 
 ticular gift. Accordingly, in the apostolical age, the gift of 
 teaching, ^djourjact SiSctoxaAtac, and the order of teachers, 
 SiSdtTfcaXoi, who were endowed with it, are spoken of as con¬ 
 stituting an entirely distinct function and order. All the mem¬ 
 bers of°a church might, at particular seasons, feel an impulse 
 to address the assembled brethren, or to break forth before 
 them in acts of invocation or praise to God; but it was only a 
 few that, possessing the yapiapa SiSatrxaXtac, were didaericaXoi. 
 
 It is self-evident, however, that this faculty of teaching is a 
 thing quite distinct from the talent for administering the out¬ 
 ward concerns of the church, the -^dpia/xa Kvftepvt'iarew c, which 
 was particularly required for the office of assessor in the coun¬ 
 cil,—the office i. e. of presbyter or bishop. Gifts, so different 
 in their kind, could not always be united in the same indivi¬ 
 dual. Though in the early apostolic church, all arbi¬ 
 trary and idle distinctions of ranks were unknown, and every 
 office was considered simply with reference to the end it was 
 to subserve and circumscribed by an inner necessity, still it 
 seems to me that the function of teaching and that of church 
 Government, the function of a <UScicncaXoe and that of a ttoi/o/v, 
 as also the gifts requisite for both,* were originally dis¬ 
 tinguished and kept separate from each other.j 
 
 In the development of these relations it is necessary to dis¬ 
 tinguish different steps, or stages. We should not be war¬ 
 ranted in assuming, for the original form, everything which is 
 found in the latter part of the apostolical times. The histori¬ 
 cal progress must of itself have introduced many changes ; and 
 it would be a mistake to suppose that every arrangement in the 
 churches was the same when St. Paul wrote his later epistles as 
 when he sent the earlier. Thus, with regard to the setting 
 forth of doctrine, the following gradations are, I think, to be dis- 
 
 * The 'SHairxuXlttt and the x“Z l,r r / - a 
 
 f Comp, for instance, Horn. 12 : 7, 8, and the passages already noticed, 
 for the purpose of seeing the distinction between the $<$a<r*a>v and the 
 [But such inferences to the difference of the thing itself from 
 the separate mention of it would lead also to making the iXiripui distinct 
 from the 'hibd.irx.-ji*> &c. Eiuj. Ed 7] 
 
OFFICE OF TEACHING. 
 
 261 
 
 languished in the progressive development.* 1. It would na¬ 
 turally occur that individuals, qualified for it by their previous 
 mental training, would, by virtue of this qualification, be 
 especially called to the regular dispensation of doctrine 2 
 buch persons were then commonly ordained and set apart as 
 teachers of the church. 3. The functions of church-teacher 
 and ol elder became more closely connected with each other. 
 It must have been held a salutary thing, as tending to the 
 good order and quiet of the churches, that among their presiding 
 officers there should also be some who possessed the talent for 
 administering the office of teaching. And although in some 
 cases, as in St. Paul’s farewell address to the elders of the 
 church °f Ephesus, the care of maintaining pure doctrine was 
 committed to the presbyters generally, yet it does not by any 
 means necessarily follow that they were also invested with the 
 office ol teaching m the more restricted sense. For the 
 Apostle in this passage may perhaps be speaking simply of one 
 among the general cares of church government. But when 
 m the epistle to Titus, it'is required of a bishop that he should 
 not only himself hold fast the genuine pure doctrine of the 
 gospel, but also be able to establish others in it, and convince 
 the gainsayers, this certainly implies that the bishop must 
 possess the gift of teaching. Indeed, under many circum¬ 
 stances, such as those, for example, which are alluded to in 
 tfie above-mentioned epistle, this would be highly desirable on 
 account of the danger vyhich menaced the church from the 
 spiead of erroneous doctrines, which required to be met by the 
 paternal authority of elders, not more than by their oral teach¬ 
 ing. So, too, in the first epistle to Timothy (v. 17) those of 
 the presbyters who, to the talent of government, KuBinviiaig, 
 cou , unite a so that of teaching, are counted 
 
 1 Ol thy of double honour; and the prominence here given to 
 each may perhaps be regarded as another proof that the two 
 were not necessarily and always united, f 
 
 Besides these we find only one other church office in the 
 apostolic age, that of deacons. The duties of this office were 
 
 * me Hist ' of- tlie P]ant ing, &c., p. 210. 
 
 Is Lt!w S f! ( di l P !! ed P assa e e it Will be sufficient to observe that it 
 is not elcai from it whether it speaks of two distinct officers or of two 
 duties of the same officer. The question must be decided by other pas- 
 eges which are in favour of the latter interpretation. See Guericke. 
 Christian Antiquities, p. 3!.] 
 
262 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 at first only external, as, according to Acts vi., it was instituted 
 to assist in the distribution of alms. The care of providing 
 for the poor and sick members of the church, to which many 
 other external duties were afterwards added, was the special 
 business of this office. Besides the deacons, there were also 
 deaconesses, for the care of the female portion of the com¬ 
 munity, because the free access of men to the female sex might 
 excite suspicion and give offence, especially in the East, where 
 the sexes are so carefully separated. Although, in conformity 
 with their natural vocation, the women were excluded from the 
 offices of teaching and governing in the church, yet the peculiar 
 qualities of the sex were in this way now claimed as special gifts 
 for the service of the church. By the means of such deaconesses 
 the gospel could be introduced into the bosom of families, where, 
 from the customs of the East, no man could gain admittance.* 
 As Christian wives, too, and mothers of tried experience in all 
 the duties of their sex, they were also bound to assist the 
 younger women with their counsel and encouragement.f 
 
 As regards the election to these offices, we have no sufficient 
 information to enable us to decide how it was managed in the 
 early apostolic times. Indeed it is quite possible different 
 circumstances may have often led to a different method of 
 procedure. As, in the institution of deacons, the apostles 
 allowed the church itself to choose, and as this was also the 
 case when deputies were to be chosen to attend the apostles 
 in the name of the church (2 Corinth, viii. 19), we might 
 argue that a similar course was pursued in filling the other 
 offices of the church. Yet it is possible that in many cases 
 the apostles themselves, where as yet they could not suffi¬ 
 ciently confide in the spirit of the newly formed communities, 
 conferred the important office of presbyter on such as in their 
 judgment, under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, appeared to 
 be the fittast persons. Their choice, moreover, would above 
 everv other deserve the confidence of the church (comp. Acts 
 xiv. 23; Titus i. o). Still, when St. Paul empowers Titus to 
 
 * As a proof, see the words of Clement of Alexandria (St 1. Ill. p. 
 448) respecting Christian women : A/ A xa'i ils r'ni yviaixtonrn abm- 
 jhXnroj; •jra.^Uff^’JiTO n roZ xuoiou 'bihiiCKa/.ia.. 
 
 + Tertull. de virginib. velandis, c. 9 : Ut experimentis omnium affec- 
 tuum structoe, facile norint caeteras et consilio et solatio juvare; et ut 
 nihilominus ea decucurrerint, per quse feniina probari potest. 
 
DEACONS—ELECTORS. 
 
 263 
 
 appoint rulers of the church, such as should possess the requi¬ 
 site qualifications, nothing is thereby decided as to the mode of 
 choice, nor is a choice by the community itself thereby neces¬ 
 sarily excluded. The following seems to have been the regular 
 course: the offices of the church were intrusted in preference 
 to the first converts, provided that in other respects they pos¬ 
 sessed the requisite qualifications (1 Corinth, vi. 15).* Clement 
 of Rome cites the following rule, as one which had been handed 
 down from the apostles, relative to the appointment of church 
 offices; “ that persons should be appointed to them by ap¬ 
 proved men , the whole church cohsentitig.” The general 
 practice may have been for the presbyters themselves, in case 
 of a vacancy, to propose some one to the church in place 
 of the deceased, and leave it to the whole body either to ratify 
 or annul their selection for definite reasons.'!' Wherever such 
 asking for the assent of the whole church had not become 
 a mere formality, this mode of filling the offices had the salu¬ 
 tary effect of causing the votes of the majority to be guided 
 by those capable of judging and of suppressing divisions; 
 while at the same time no one was obtruded on the com¬ 
 munity who would not be welcome to them. 
 
 Again, as regards the relation in which these presbyters 
 stood to their several churches, they were not designed to be 
 absolute monarchs, but to act as presiding officers and guides 
 of an ecclesiastical republic; consequently to conduct all 
 things with the cooperation of the communities whose minis¬ 
 ters and not masters they were. In this light the apostles 
 seem to have regarded this relation when they addressed their 
 epistles, which treat not barely of matters of doctrine, but 
 of such as concern the life and discipline of the church, not 
 only to the rulers of the churches, but to the entire commu¬ 
 nities. When the Apostle St. Paul pronounces a sentence of 
 excommunication from the fellowship of the church, he speaks of 
 iiimself as united in spirit with the whole community (1 Corinth, 
 v. 4), assuming that, in a matter of such common concern, the 
 concurrence of the whole church would as a rule be beneficial. 
 
 * So also Clement of Rome (cap. 42) says of the Apostles: Kara 
 
 %to(>av xa'i toXu; xnputrirovris xaSirravov rd; awa^d; aurav, 'hox.iu.uravri; rai 
 Ttiu^an i!f \tlltkotov; xai 2 laxovov ; fiiWovrc iiv Timuini. 
 
 f Clement, cap. 44: T ov; xaraara^iira; vto rav dTorroXui n /j.'ra%u 
 tnp’ STSjiiv iXXoyifjuav dvdoav, trjvivboKnrdirn; rn; ixKXnr'ta; Tarn;. 
 
264 
 
 CHANGES IN THE CHURCH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 B. Changes in the Constitution of the Christum Church 
 after the age of the Apostles. 
 
 The changes which the Constitution of the Christian church 
 underwent during this period related especially to the three 
 following particulars: 1. The distinction of bishops from 
 presbyters, and the gradual development of the monarchico- 
 episcopal church government; 2. The distinction of the clergy 
 from the laity, and the formation of a sacerdotal caste, in con¬ 
 tradiction to the evangelical idea of the Christian priesthood ; 
 3. The multiplication of church offices. 
 
 As to the first of these particulars, we are, it is time, devoid 
 of everything like exact and full information respecting the 
 manner in which the change took place in individual cases; 
 the general matter, however, may be made very clear by 
 analogy. It was natural that, as the presbyters constituted 
 a deliberative assembly', one of their number should ere long as¬ 
 sume the presidency. This was perhaps so arranged as to follow 
 some law of rotation, so that the presidency would pass from one 
 to the other. It is possible that in many places such was the 
 original arrangement. Yet we find no trace in history, at 
 least, of anything of the kind. But then, as we have already' 
 observed, there is, on the other hand, no vestige of the pre¬ 
 sidency over the presbyterial college having been originally 
 distinguished by r any special name. However the case may have 
 been as to this point originally, our information of the institu¬ 
 tions existing in the second century enables us to infer that 
 very soon after the apostolic age the standing office of presi¬ 
 dent of the presbyters must have been formed ; and that to 
 him, as having preeminently the oversight of all, there was 
 given the special name of 'E-klctkottoq, which thus dis¬ 
 tinguished him from the other presbyters. Thus the name 
 came at length to be applied exclusively to this presbyter, 
 while the name presbyter remained common to all; for the 
 bishops, as presiding presbyters, had as yet no other official 
 character than that of presbyters. They were only Primi 
 inter pares.* 
 
 * Many of the later fathers still have a right understanding of this 
 process of the matter. Hilar, in ep. I. ad Timoth. c. 3: Ornnis episco- 
 pus presbyter, non tamen omnis presbyter episcopus; hie enim episcopus 
 est, qui inter presbyteros primus est. Jerome (146, ad l'ivangel.) says 
 
BISHOPS RAISED ABOVE PRESBYTERS. 
 
 265 
 
 An aristocratic constitution will ever find it easy, by various 
 gradual changes, to pass into the monarchical ; and wherever a 
 need is once felt of guidance by the energy and authority of 
 an individual, circumstances will tend beyond all else to bring 
 about such a revolution. It may have been circumstances of 
 this kind which, at the close of the first and the opening of 
 the second century, tended to promote the supremacy of the 
 president of the council of elders, and to procure for him a 
 distinctive title, as the general overseer. Even in the latter 
 years of St. Paul’s labours we see many things taking a dif¬ 
 ferent shape from what they had had originally. It cannot, 
 therefore, appear strange if, in the constitution of the church, 
 other changes were introduced by the altered circumstances of 
 the times immediately succeeding those of St. Paul or St. 
 John. Thpn ensued those strongly marked oppositions and 
 schisms, those dangers with which primitive Christianity was 
 menaced by the corruptions which various foreign elements 
 had engendered.* It was these dangers that had called the 
 Apostle St. John to Asia Minor, and induced him to make this 
 country the seat of his last labours. Amidst circumstances so 
 embarrassing, amidst conflicts so severe from within and from 
 without (for it was now that the first edict against the Chris¬ 
 tians was published by Trajan), the influence of individuals 
 distinguished for piety, firmness, and activity, would be par¬ 
 ticularly felt, and the general danger would increase its autho¬ 
 rity. Thus the paramount authority of the individuals who, 
 as moderators over the college of presbyters, were deno¬ 
 minated bishops, might perhaps have grown up insensibly 
 
 that it had been the practice in the Alexandrian church, until the times 
 of the bishops Hierocles and Dionysius, in the middle of the third cen¬ 
 tury, for the presbyters to choose one of their own number as a president 
 and call him bishop. And so also there may be some foundation of 
 truth in the account of Eutychius, though it may not be wholly true, 
 and must be chronologically false. This person, who was patriarch 
 of Alexandria in the first half of the tenth century, relates, that in 
 the Alexandrian church, up to the time of the bishop Alexander, in the 
 beginning of the fourth century, the following arrangement had 
 existed: there was a college of twelve presbyters, one of whom presided 
 over the rest as bishop, and these presbyters always chose their bishop 
 out of their own number, and the other eleven ordained him. 
 
 * These I have more fully unfolded in my History of the Planting, 
 &c., Vol. II. 
 
266 
 
 CHANGES IN THE CHUECH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 out of the circumstances of the times in which the Christian 
 communities were multiplied. This may have been the case 
 even in the absence of any intentional design of remodelling 
 the earlier constitution of the church. It seems to me to be 
 in favour of this view that, till late in the second century, we 
 still find the names “ presbyter ” and “ bishop ” interchanged. 
 It may be that, as the labours of St. John in Asia Minor had 
 a great influence generally on the subsequent development of 
 the church, so also they may have had great weight in this 
 matter especially, since the circumstances of the times induced 
 him to intrust to certain individual presbyters, who had 
 proved themselves worthy of his special confidence, the chief 
 care of maintaining pure doctrine amidst the prevailing cor¬ 
 ruptions, of warding off those threatening dangers, and of 
 keeping an oversight over the whole church. Ifie tradition 
 current at the end of the second century, of individuals having 
 been placed at the head of different churches by this apostle, 
 and by him consecrated bishops, may have been derived from 
 such an origin. This may perhaps be the whole truth lying 
 at the bottom of this report, and there would be no necessity 
 of inferring from this circumstance that an episcopate w r as 
 designedly founded by this apostle.* 
 
 This relation of the bishops to the presbyters we may trace 
 down to the end of the second century. It is on this account 
 that Irenceus sometimes uses the names “ bishop ” and “ pres- 
 
 * There is no evidence to establish any such supposition ; for to 
 indefinite traditions the force of evidence cannot be ascribed. In the so- 
 called epistles of Ignatius I perceive, besides that which took its 
 shape without any preconceived design, an evident purpose. As the 
 tradition of Ignatius’ journey to Rome, where he was to be thrown to 
 the wild beasts, appears to me, for reasons already alleged, extremely 
 liable to suspicion; so his letters, which presuppose the truth of this 
 story, inspire me with as little confidence in their authenticity. [Both 
 the authenticity of the journey to Rome and the genuineness of the 
 epistles are maintained by Guerike, a Lutheran, like Neander. Hdbk. 
 d. Kirchengesch. Bd. I.] That a man with death immediately be¬ 
 fore him could have nothing to say more befitting than such things 
 about obedience to the bishops, is inconceivable to my mind ; especially 
 when I go back to the time when these letters profess to have been 
 written. But even supposing the Aposle St. John did institute the order 
 of bishops, for the purpose of satisfying a necessity of the times, still it 
 would by no means follow that this was a form of church government 
 either necessary or beneficial for all times. 
 
RELATION OF PRESBYTERS AND BISHOPS. 
 
 2G7 
 
 byter ” as synonymous, and at others distinguishes the bishops, 
 as presidents, from the presbyters.* * * § Tert.ullian also calls the 
 presidents of the Christian churches by the general name of 
 Seniores, including under this title both bishops and pres¬ 
 byters though elsewhere in the writings of this father a 
 strong distinction is drawn between bishops and presbyters. 
 In many respects Tertullian may be considered as standing on 
 the boundary line between an old and a new era in the 
 Christian church. 
 
 The novel and violent conflicts, internal as well as external, 
 which, in this and the following century, the church had to en¬ 
 counter, might also contribute anew to foster the monarchical 
 element in the constitution of the church. As late however as 
 the third century, the presbyters still maintained their own foot¬ 
 ing as a college of counsellors at the side of the bishops, and 
 the latter undertook nothing of importance without assembling 
 the council of presbyters, if When, by his flight during the per¬ 
 secution, Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was separated from his 
 community, if he had any business to transact, he immediately 
 communicated it to his presbyters who had remained behind, 
 and apologised to them whenever he was obliged to decide 
 any matter without consulting them. He declares it to be 
 his invariable principle to do nothing without their advice.§ 
 Keeping in mind the original relation of the presbyters to the 
 bishops, he calls them his Cowpresbyteros. Since then, in 
 the constitution of the church, two elements met together,— 
 the aristocratic and monarchical,—a conflict between them was 
 almost inevitable. The bishops would consider themselves 
 
 * The two names are used synonymously (1. IV. 26) where the 
 successio episcopatus is given to the presbyteris. In 1. III. 14, he dis¬ 
 tinguishes them. If in Acts 20,17, when Paul sends for the presbyters of 
 the churches of Asia Minor, Irenseus reckons among them the bishops, 
 he does so perhaps from the opinion that the latter were no more than 
 presiding elders; in Mileto convocatis episcopis et presbyteris. The 
 confusion spread over the whole subject of the succession of the first 
 Komish bishops may doubtless be owing to the fact that these names 
 were not originally distinguished, and hence several might bear at the 
 same time the titles of bishops or presbyters. 
 
 t Apologet. c. 39 : President probati quique seniores, 
 
 j Presbyterium contrahere. 
 
 § A primordio episcopatus mei statui, nihil sine consilio vestro mea 
 privatim sententia gcrere.—Sicut honor mutuus poscit, in commune 
 tractabimus. Ep. 5. 
 
268 
 
 CONSTITUTION’ OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 as invested with supreme power in the guidance of the church, 
 and would naturally seek, to maintain this authority. The 
 presbyters would be unwilling to concede to them such power, 
 and would seek to make themselves again independent. These 
 struggles between the presbyterial and episcopal systems are 
 perhaps the most important phenomena in the development of 
 the church during the third century. Many presbyters made 
 a capricious use of their power, which was most prejudicial to 
 the discipline and good order of the church. Divisions arose, 
 of which we shall have hereafter to speak more particularly ; 
 and out of these troubles the authority of the bishops, who 
 closely united among themselves, came victorious over the 
 presbyters, who opposed them single handed. The energy 
 and activity of a Cyprian contributed in no small measure to 
 promote this victory ; but it would both be to wrong him and 
 to change the right point of view for the whole matter, if we 
 were to charge him with having entertained from the first 
 a systematic design of elevating the episcopal order. For 
 generally, in matters of this sort, it is seldom possible for a 
 single individual to fashion the circumstances of a whole period 
 into conformity with his own ambitious designs of aggrandize¬ 
 ment. Without being conscious of any plan, Cyprian herein 
 acted in the spirit of a whole party and of a tendency be¬ 
 longing to the entire church in his time. lie acted as the 
 representative of the episcopal system, whose conflict with the 
 presbyterian policy had its ground in the whole development 
 of the church. The quarrels of the presbyterian parties 
 among themselves were certainly likely to prove injurious to 
 discipline and good order in the churches. The triumph 
 of the episcopal system undoubtedly promoted unity, order, 
 and tranquillity. But, on the other hand, it was un¬ 
 favourable to the free development of the life of the church; 
 and while the latter promoted the formation of a priesthood 
 foreign to the essence of that development of the kingdom of 
 God which the New Testament sets forth, on the other 
 hand a revolution of sentiment which had already been pre¬ 
 pared—an altered view of the idea of the priesthood—had no 
 small influence on the development of the episcopal system. 
 Thus does this change of the original constitution of the 
 Christian communities stand intimately connected with another 
 and still more radical change ,—the formation of a sacerdotal 
 
.RISE OF A SACERDOTAL CASTE. 
 
 269 
 
 caste in the Christian church. Without doubt many a change 
 in the relations of the church might How naturally out of the 
 historical course of development, without being any evidence 
 of such a revolution in the general sentiments of Christians, 
 or being at all connected with it. The times of the first 
 Christian inspiration by that effusion of the Spirit which cast 
 into the shade all differences of mental culture were quickly 
 succeeded by a time when the human element grew to o T eat 
 importance in the progressive advancement of the church. 
 Differences in the degree of education and of Christian know¬ 
 ledge now became more strongly marked; and on this ac¬ 
 count it might happen that the guidance of church affairs 
 was surrendered more exclusively to the above-mentioned 
 church senate, and the edification of the church by the word 
 confined more entirely to those who had distinguished them¬ 
 selves as teachers. But this natural consequence of the his¬ 
 torical course of things was unquestionably soon associated 
 with an idea alien to the Christian ceconomy which, continually 
 giving a wider development to its original germ, was to last 
 through many centuries. 
 
 Out of the husk of Judaism Christianity had evolved itself 
 to freedom and independence,—had stripped off' the forms in 
 which it first sprang up, and within which the new spirit 
 lay at first concealed, until by its own inherent power it 
 broke through them. This development belonged more par¬ 
 ticularly to the Pauline position, from which proceeded the 
 form of the church in the Gentile world. In the struggle 
 with the Jewish elements which opposed the free development 
 of Christianity, this principle had triumphantly made its way. 
 In the churches of pagan Christians the new creation stood 
 forth completely unfolded; but the Jewish principle, which 
 had been vanquished, pressed in once more from another 
 quarter. Humanity was as yet incapable of maintaining itself 
 at the lofty position of pure spiritual religion. The Jewish 
 position was better adapted to the mass, which needed first to 
 be trained before it could apprehend Christianity in its purity, 
 —needed to be disabused from paganism. Out of Christianity, 
 now become independent, a principle once more sprang forth 
 akin to the principles of the Old Testament,—a new outward 
 shaping of the kingdom of God, a new discipline of the law 
 which one day was to serve for the training of rude nations, a 
 
270 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF TIIE CHURCH. 
 
 new tutorship for the spirit of humanity until it should arrive 
 at the maturity of the perfect manhood in Christ. This 
 investiture of the Christian spirit in a form nearly akin to the 
 position arrived at in the Old Testament, could not fail, after 
 the fruitful principle had once made its appearance, to unfold 
 itself more and more, and to bring to light one after another 
 all the consequences which it involved; but there also began 
 with it a reaction of the Christian consciousness as it yearned 
 after freedom, which was continually bursting forth anew in 
 an endless variety of appearances, until it attained its triumph 
 at the Reformation.* 
 
 While the great principle of the New Testament in unfold¬ 
 ing the kingdom of God from within consisted of the union 
 with Christ, brought about after the like immediate manner in 
 all, by faith, the introduction of the Old Testament position, 
 in giving an outward existence to the kingdom of God, went 
 on the assumption that an oatioard mediation was necessary 
 in order to its establishment in the world. Such a mediation 
 was to be formed by a priesthood modelled after that of the 
 Old Testament. The universal priesthood, groimded on the 
 common and immediate relation in which all believers stood 
 to Christ as the source of the divine life, was repressed by the 
 spread of the idea that there is a special mediatory priesthood 
 attached to a distinct order. This recasting of the Christian 
 spirit in the form of the Old Testament did not, it is true, 
 take place everywhere in exactly the same manner. Where 
 some Jewish element chiefly predominated, it might easily 
 
 * [How little in unison with the principles of the Reformation Nean- 
 tier's views are on the subject of episcopac y will appear from the fol¬ 
 lowing extracts: “ Ecclesiastical government is holy and useful, so that 
 it is necessary that there should be bishops superior to other ministers.” 
 —Articles sent into France to Cardinal du Bellarj by the Lutherans and 
 Melancthon. ‘•The church can never be better governed and preserved 
 than when we all live under one head, Jesus Christ, and all bishops 
 equal in office, though unequal in gifts, are most perfectly united in 
 
 diligence, concord of doctrine, See .The Apostles were equal, 
 
 and afterwards the bishops in all Christendom, until the pope raised his 
 head above all.”— Luther: Articles of Smalcalde, pars ii. Art. IV. 
 Even Calvin (Tract, de Reform. Eccles.) “ held them to be worthy of 
 anathema who would not submit to truly Christian bishopswhile Beza 
 accounts it no less than madness to reject all the order of bishops, &c.— 
 See Durel's Government in the lieformed Churches beyond the Seas, 
 pp. 101-7.1 . 
 
FORMATION OF A SACERDOTAL CASTE. 
 
 271 
 
 have grown up out of it; * where, as among the Gentile 
 Christians, the Pauline element had unfolded itself at first in 
 opposition to the Jewish, even there the Christian spirit, which 
 had grown up to independence, unable, in consequence of a 
 growing tendency within itself, to maintain itself at this lofty 
 position, soon adopted this alien position of Judaism Of 
 such a change in the Christian mode of thinking we have as 
 early a witness as Tertullian, for he calls the bishop summus 
 sacerdos,] a title certainly not invented by him, but whicli had 
 been adopted from a mode both of speaking and thinking' 
 prevalent in a portion at least of the church. Such an appel¬ 
 lation implies that men had already begun to compare the 
 presbyters with the priests, the deacons or spiritual persons 
 generally with the Levites. It must be at once evident how 
 greatly such a false comparison of the Christian priesthood 
 Avith the Jewish must have facilitated the elevation of the 
 episcopacy over the presbyterial office. In general the more 
 they degenerated from the evangelical to the Jewish point of 
 view the more must the original free constitution of the seve- 
 rai churches become also changed. We find Cyprian, early as 
 was his date, completely imbued with this intermixture of the 
 Old and the New Testament notions. 
 
 In the names, indeed, by which the holders of church 
 offices Avere at first distinguished from the rest of the com- 
 mumty, no trace of this intermixture might as yet be found. 
 Hie Latin expression “ordo” simply denoted the guiding 
 senate of the Christian people (the plebs). The Greek 
 words K\fjpoQ, K^ripiKoi, had, it is true, as early as Cyprian’s 
 time, had grafted on them the unevangelical sense of per- 
 sons preeminently consecrated to God, like the Levites of 
 the Old Testament—men employed on the affairs of religion 
 
 % C J 1 ewiS n Ch - riSt i an a P 0Cr yphal writing called the Testa¬ 
 ment of the Twelve Patriarchs (in the Testament III. of Levi c 8) 
 
 f*® pr ° mised ot the Messiah that he should found a new priesthood 
 
 in ^ atl0 ° S : r?T 8; »<«» lU ri i'3 v*. Whether 
 
 I i • p 1 °, ,° >^ rates > bishop of Ephesus, a contemporary of Irenmus 
 (cited in Euseb. 1. V. c. 24), the Apostle St. John be meant by the 
 
 II "j'T as standi,i e at the head of the government of the 
 
 lurch in Asia Minor, may indeed be doubted. The phrase might also 
 e usee simp y to designate the highest position of the spiritual priest- 
 
 hood m the Witnessing of the faith. (See Testament. Levi, e. 8 : 
 
 Xov r * s f De Bantismo, c. 17. 
 
272 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THU CRUTCH. 
 
 to the exclusion of all earthly concerns, and who did not, 
 like others, gain their livelihood by worldly employments, 
 but who, for the very reason that in order to benefit others 
 they had their conversation with God alone, were supported 
 by the rest, in the same manner as the Levites, in the division 
 of the lands, had no portion assigned them, but had the Lord for 
 their inheritance, and received tithes from the rest in return 
 for their care of the public worship, oi" tlmv o gXijpog tov dtov, 
 or Jv o KXrjpog 6 dtog sort. See Deuteron. c. 18. This notion 
 now of a peculiar people of God, (a KXrjpog tov deov,) applied 
 distinctively to a particular order of men among the Chris¬ 
 tians, is wholly foreign to the original Christian mind. For 
 according to this, all Christians should be a people conse¬ 
 crated to God, a hXrjpog tov deov, and even all their earthly 
 callings ought to be sanctified by the temper in which they 
 are discharged. Their whole life and conduct bearing one 
 continued reference to Christ, the great High Priest of 
 humanity, having its root in the consciousness of redemption, 
 and witnessing it in its effects, should hence become a conse¬ 
 crated thank-offering and a spiritual service (aXoyio) Xarpeia). 
 Such was the original evangelical idea. It may be questioned, 
 however, whether that other notion, so much at variance with 
 the primitive Christian idea, was actually associated from the 
 first with the appellation icXrjpucoi as applied to the clergy. 
 If we trace the history of its usage, it becomes much more 
 probable that this sense was brought into the word at some 
 later period, when a change had taken place in the Christian 
 mode of thinking, and the original sense was forgotten. 
 The word hXrjpog signified originally the place in the church 
 which by God’s providence had been allotted to each, or the 
 choice of the people directed by that providence; hence the 
 church officers were particularly denominated ^Xrjpoi, and the 
 persons chosen to them gXrjpigoi.* 
 
 * Thus we may see how in these words the more restricted notion of 
 casting lots might be lost, though elsewhere the iox*) kXx^uto .1 are 
 opposed to the ao^ai; So at first, in Acts 1, 17 : xXri^os rb; 
 
 ; in IrentEus III. 3: y.XnoouirScu rbv iTKrxoTriv. Clemens Alex. 
 Quis dives salv. c. 42, employs xXnooi and xXn°ouv with reciprocal refer¬ 
 ence to each other. Ignat, ep. Ephes. c. 11 : xXb^os ’Espttrlvy, by which 
 he understands the collective body of Christians in that place. It is 
 true, the relations observed in the Old Testament could be found 
 applied to the Christian church in as early a writer as Clemens of Rome 
 
FORMATION OF A SACERDOTAL CASTE. 273 
 
 But. although the pure evangelical idea of the priesthood 
 was continually more and more obscured and driven into 
 the background oy the prevalence of unevangelical views it 
 was nevertheless too deeply rooted in the very essence of Chris- 
 tiamty to be totally suppressed. In the times of Tertullian 
 
 Jp? r fi ke ? as U were . t ] ie b° un dary between these two views, 
 we still find many significant traces of the reaction which the 
 primitive C 1 ,,n - t r c ° nviction ° f the universal Priesthood, and 
 general rights founded thereon, exerted against the 
 arrogated power of that particular priesthood whidf had 
 lecently begun to form itself on the model of the Old Testa- 
 
 ! , In hls ™ rk 011 Baptism, written before he went over 
 
 to Mon fan,sm, Tertullian, in reference to this matter, distin- 
 
 fn it elf VGen T \ 9ht and human 0rder • “ Considered 
 
 ‘ f’ lle fy*> the lmt y also have a right to administer 
 the sacraments and to teach in the church. The word of 
 
 to aU and !n; sacrame ^ ts ' vere b Y God’s grace communicated 
 to all and may therefore be communicated by all Christians 
 
 as instruments of God’s grace. But the question here is nS 
 mere 1 ) what is lawful in general, but also what is expedient 
 i nder existing circumstances, We may here apply the words 
 a. Paul, All things are lawful for me, but all things are 
 not expechent. From regard therefore to the necessary order 
 the church, the laity ought to exercise their priestly rights 
 m administering the sacraments only when time and circum¬ 
 stances require it.”* tum 
 
 eood°ThpA eS ’- in ^ C ° nf ! ict With the cIer §T> the laity made 
 l T c n | lna 11 ? rieStly nghts ’ as Allows I think from 
 the words of lertullian the Montanist , where in a certain 
 
 S l laity, if they would have the same rights 
 
 With tho clergy, to bind themselves to the same duties; and 
 
 G- f°)i hut to my mind there can be no doubt but that this epistle as 
 well as that ot Ignatius (although in a less degree) had suffered inter 
 polation from a hierarchical interest. In othe g r passages oTthe same' 
 eptstle we meet, on the contrary, with the freer spirit of the oridrml 
 piesb)tcrial constitution of the church How cimnlr 
 
 W,r1 1 S ardliCaldisplay ’ is the appointment of bishops or pr2 
 V te n a p d °f deacons > s P°ken of in the 42nd chapter! A disci pie of the 
 findlhns 1 !! al ’f“° r f f- 0Ver ’ IS ! he last P erson whom we should expect to 
 
 and to the New Testalien| e . ther ^ P ° mtS ° f VieW peCuliar t0 the 0Id 
 * De Baptismo, c. 17, 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 where in a sarcastic tone he says of them,* “ TV hen we 
 exalt and inflate ourselves against the clergy, then we are all 
 one, we are all priests, since he has made us kings and priests 
 unto God and his Father.” Rev. 1, 6. 
 
 Although the office of teaching in the congregation was 
 confined more and more to the bishops and presbyters, we 
 nevertheless still find many traces of that original equality 
 of spiritual rights among all Christians. Towards the middle 
 of the third century two bishops in Palestine did not scruple 
 to allow the learned Origen, although he had as yet received 
 no ordination, to expound the scriptures before their people ; 
 and when reproved by Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, who 
 was strongly inclined to hierarchy, they appealed in their 
 defence to the practice of many bishops of the East who had 
 even invited competent laymen to preach.f Even in the 
 spurious Apostolic Constitutions themselves, otherwise deeply 
 tinged with the hierarchical spirit, and, indeed, compiled from 
 time to time out of the most heterogeneous elements, there is 
 an ordinance assigned to the Apostle St. Paul to this effect 
 “ If any man , though a layman , is skilful in expounding 
 doctrine , and of reputable life , he may be allowed to teach , 
 for all must be taught of God.” 
 
 At first, those who held offices in the church continued, in 
 all probability, to exercise their former trades and occupations 
 for the support of themselves and their families. The several 
 communities, composed for the most part of poor members, 
 would scarcely be able to provide for their presbyters and 
 deacons, especially as they had from the first so many other 
 demands on the church chest, the support, viz., of helpless 
 widows and orphans, of the poor and the sick. It might 
 indeed happen that the presbyters belonged to the richer class 
 of the community, and this must have been often the case, 
 since, besides other qualifications, their office required a cer- 
 
 * De Monogamia, c. 12. [Tertullian’s meaning will be best judged of’ 
 from the original. His words are, “ Si non omnes Monogamie tenentur 
 unde Monogami in clerum ? An ordo aliquis seorsum debebit institui 
 Monogamorum de quo adlectio fiat in clerum ? Sed quum extollimur et 
 inflamur adversus clerum, tunc unum sumus, tunc omnes sacerdotes, quia 
 sacerdotes nos Deo et Patri fecit; quum ad peraequationem discipline 
 sacerdotalis provoeamur, deponimus infulas et impares sumus.”—• 
 Eng. Ed.l 
 
 f Euseb. 1. VI. c. 19. 1 L. VIII. c. 32. 
 
FORMATION OF A SACERDOTAL CASTE. 
 
 275 
 
 tain degree of worldly education, and this was more likely to 
 be found in the higher or middle class than in the lower 
 orders. As the presbyters, or bishops, (1 Timothy 3, 2,) 
 were to be patterns to other Christians of hospitality, this also 
 implies that they belonged to the better class, of whom the 
 number was small in the first communities,—and how could 
 such persons be induced to support themselves on the scanty 
 earnings of the poor ! The Apostle Paul does, indeed, declare 
 that [travelling]* preachers of the gospel are warranted in 
 expecting that those for whose spiritual necessities they 
 laboured should provide for their bodily wants; but it cannot 
 be inferred from this that the case was the same with regard 
 to the local officers of the churches. It would be difficult 
 for the former to unite the labours necessary for their own 
 maintenance with the duties of their spiritual calling, although 
 the self-denial of a Paul rendered this also possible. The 
 local officers, on the contrary, might easily unite the labours 
 necessary for their maintenance with the discharge of their 
 official functions, and the simple way of thinking among the 
 primitive Christians might perhaps see nothing repulsive in 
 such a union; convinced as they were that every earthly 
 business could and should be sanctified by the temper with 
 which it was pursued, and knowing that even an apostle had 
 prosecuted a worldly calling in connection with the preaching 
 of the gospel. l>ut when the communities grew larger, and 
 the duties of church officers increased, especially when the 
 office of teaching was confined for the most part to the 
 presbyters ; when the calling of the spiritual class, if rightly 
 discharged, required all their time and exertions, it became 
 often impossible for them to provide, at the same time, 
 for their own support; and besides, the wealthier commu¬ 
 nities were now in a condition to maintain them. Of the 
 common fund which was raised by the voluntary contribu- 
 tions of the people every Lord’s day, or, as in the North 
 Afucan church, on the first Sunday of every month, + a 
 part was appropriated for the maintenance of the clergy. 
 
 [St. Paul nowhere speaks of any special privilege of travelling 
 preachers, but he does speak of all as having a right to a maintenance, 
 and to “ forbear working.” l Cor. ix. 1-14 ] 
 
 t 1 he divisiones mensural, as salaries for the clergy in this church, 
 answer to the monthly collections. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 It was now sought expressly to withdraw the clergy from all 
 ! worldly employments ; and before the close of the third cen- 
 tury they were strictly forbidden to undertake any such busi¬ 
 ness, even a wardship * This regulation may certainly have 
 been founded in reason, and had a very salutary end in view, 
 namely, to prevent the clergy forgetting their spiritual calling 
 and the business of the church. We see from Cyprian’s book 
 de Lapsis,t how much even then the spirit of the world had 
 made its way during long periods of tranquillity among the 
 bishops, who, immersed in secular pursuits, neglected their 
 spiritual concerns and the interests of their flocks. But 
 assuredly some other cause must have subsequently cooperated 
 in establishing an opinion that the administration of the offices 
 of the church was absolutely irreconcilable with worldly em¬ 
 ployments, and that the clergy must be kept aloof from them. 
 
 When the idea of the universal Christian priesthood was 
 more and more lost sight of, that of the priestly consecration 
 of the whole life, which was enjoined on all Christians, was 
 also forgotten. As, in contradiction to the original Christian 
 consciousness, a distinction had been drawn between a par¬ 
 ticular priesthood and the universal and ordinary calling of all 
 Christians, so they now contrasted with each other a spiritual 
 and a secular province of life and action ; notwithstanding 
 Christ had exalted the entire earthly existence to a spiritual 
 life. And from this view of the matter it would seem that it 
 was deemed necessary to forbid the priestly clergy, as set 
 apart for God’s service, to have any contact with the world 
 and the things of the world. We have, then, here the germ 
 out of which sprang at length the medieval view of the priest¬ 
 hood, with its law of celibacy. But by this outward removal 
 
 * Cyprian, ep. 66, to the community at Fumae. 
 
 f "Also from the Instructiones of his contemporary, Commodianus, c. 
 69 : Redditur in culpa pastor stecularia servans (who gives himself up to 
 secular business), and from Can. 18 of the council of Elvira (Illiberis), 
 in the year 305 : Kpiscopi, prosbyteri et diacoui de locis suis negotiandi 
 causa"non discedant, nec circumeuntes provincias qusestuosas nundinas 
 sectentur. Yet even here it is still supposed that they may in many 
 cases be obliged so to do, “ ad victum sibi conquirendum,” where, 
 perhaps, though they had a salary, they yet received no pay in money. 
 But in these cases they were to conduct their business by the agency of a 
 son, a freed man, or some person hired for the purpose, and never 
 beyond the bounds of their own province. 
 
ELECTIONS TO OFFICE. 
 
 277 
 
 of secular things a worldly spirit could not be charmed away 
 from the clergy, nor the sense for divine things awakened in 
 them. This external renunciation of the world was only too 
 likely to introduce into the heart a spiritual pride, hiding the 
 worldly mind under this mask. Cyprian, in the above-men¬ 
 tioned letter,* quotes 2 Timoth. 2, 4, in support of this 
 prohibition. But he could not but feel what, especially at 
 this time, when the universal calling of Christians was com¬ 
 monly regarded as a 'militia Christi , must have immediately 
 occurred to every one, that these words applied equally to all, 
 who, as soldiers of Christ, were bound to be faithful in the 
 discharge of their duty, and to guard against every foreign 
 and worldly thing that might impede their service. It is with 
 such an acknowledgment that he concludes: “ As this was said 
 of all Christians, how much rather must those keep them¬ 
 selves unentangled with worldly matters, who, occupied with 
 divine and spiritual things, ought not to depart from the 
 church, nor have time for earthly and secular employments!” 
 Ihe clergy, then, in obedience to this apostolic rule, were 
 merely to shine forth as patterns to all others, by avoiding 
 whatever was foreign to their vocation, and might turn them 
 away from a faithful discharge of it. And yet that false 
 opposition between the secular and the spiritual, which we 
 have already spoken of, contrived to find even here support 
 for itself. 
 
 In respect to the election to the offices of the church, the 
 ancient principle was still adhered to, that, the consent of the 
 community was necessary to the validity of the election, every 
 one being at liberty to offer reasons against it. The emperor 
 Alexander Severus was aware of this regulation in the Chris¬ 
 tian church, and referred to it in support of his wish to intro¬ 
 duce a similar practice in the appointment of civil officers in 
 the provinces.f When Cyprian, during his separation from 
 his church by evil circumstances, nominated to church offices 
 
 * Ep. 66. 
 
 f m Lamprid. vit. c. 45: Grave esse, cum id Christian! et Judai, 
 fa customary form then of choosing presiding officers, even among the 
 Jews,) facerent in prccdicandis sacerdotibus, qui ordinandi sunt, non fieri 
 in provinciarum rectoribus, quibus et tortunae hominuni committereutur 
 et capita. From which language it is also apparent how far the man 
 who so expressed himself was from doing homage to the Christian 
 church. 
 
278 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 individuals about his own person, who had distinguished them¬ 
 selves in the persecution, he apologised, both to the laity and 
 to the clergy, for this arbitrary procedure, which had been 
 forced upon him by the necessity of the times, and thus writes 
 to both : * “We are accustomed to call you together for counsel 
 whenever any are to be consecrated to sacred offices, and to 
 weigh the character and claims of each candidate in common 
 deliberation.” 
 
 The same principle was also observed in appointments to 
 the episcopal office. In the third century it was the prevailing 
 custom (which, consequently, Cyprian derived from apostolic 
 tradition) for the bishops of the province, together with the 
 clergy of the vacant diocese, to proceed to the election in the 
 presence of the community, who, as having witnessed the life 
 and conversation of every individual on whom the choice 
 might fall, could therefore give the surest testimony of his 
 character. Cyprian conceded to the community the right of 
 choosing worthy bishops, or of rejecting unworthy ones.j- This 
 right of approving or rejecting was not a mere formality. It 
 sometimes happened that, before the usual arrangements for an 
 election could be made, a bishop was proclaimed by the voice 
 of the community. Thus there might possibly arise a discord 
 between the will of the community and that of the majority of 
 the clergy,—the source of many divisions. 
 
 In other affairs, also, of the church, the participation of the 
 laity was not as yet wholly excluded. Cyprian declared that, 
 from the commencement of his episcopal office, it had been his 
 determination to do nothing without the consent of the com¬ 
 munity. + An affair of this kind, in which all were concerned, 
 was the restoration of a fallen brother to the communion of 
 the church ; and the examination connected therewith was 
 to be conducted with the assistance of the whole community ; 
 for, in Cyprian’s judgment, this respect was due to the faith of 
 
 * Ep. 33. 
 
 f Cyprian thus writes, in the name of a synod, to the communities at 
 Lyons and Astorga, ep. 68: Apostolica observatione servandum est, 
 quod apud nos quoque et fere per provincias universas tenetur, ut ad 
 ordinationes rite celebrandas, ad earn plebem, cui prsepositus ordinatur, 
 episcopi ejusdem provinciae proximi quique conveniant, et episcopus 
 deligatur plebe pnesente, qua; singulorum vitam plenissime novit et 
 uniuscujusque actum de ejus conversatione perspexit. 
 
 1 Nihil sine consensu plebis gerere. Ep. 5. 
 
OFFICES MULTIPLIED. 
 
 279 
 
 those who had steadfastly withstood persecution.* There were 
 besides individuals, who, though not belonging to the clerical 
 order, had yet, through the respect which they person¬ 
 ally enjoyed, obtained an influence in the management of 
 church affairs, which even the clergy found it difficult to 
 oppose. Such were the heroes of the faith, the confessors, who 
 before pagan magistrates, in the face of tortures and death, or 
 even under torture, had confessed the good confession. We 
 shall hereafter, in speaking of the schisms of the church, have 
 occasion to consider more particularly the extent of their 
 influence. 
 
 A third , less important change in the constitution of the 
 church was the multiplication of church offices. This was in 
 part rendered necessary by the growth of the communities, and 
 the consequent accumulation of business on the hands of the 
 deacons, whose office had now to be relieved of many of its 
 duties. In part, also, new matters of business in the churches 
 of large capital towns required new offices for their discharge. 
 In part, too, the new notions of the dignity of the clergy led 
 to a belief that what had hitherto been regarded as the free 
 gift of the Spirit to all or to individual Christians must be 
 confined to a particular office in the service of the church. It 
 must be clear from what has been said that none of these 
 changes, which arose partly out of local circumstances, can 
 be considered as universal. The following were the prin¬ 
 cipal of these new offices: after the deacons came the sub- 
 deacons, who assisted the former in their mere secular duties ; 
 the lectores (dmyvworai), who had to read the scriptures in 
 the congregation, and also to take care of the copies of them 
 used on these occasions; a duty performed at first, probably, 
 by the presbyters themselves, or by the deacons, as in later 
 times the reading of the scriptures, particularly the gospels, still 
 continued in many churches to be left to the deacons ;—next, 
 the acolyths (cucoXovdoi, acolythi), who, as the name indicates, 
 waited on the bishops while discharging their official functions ; 
 the exorcistae, Avho made prayer over those who were thought 
 to be possessed by evil spirits (the energumeni) ; finally, the 
 dvpwpol, nvXujpol, ostiarii, whose business it was to attend to 
 
 * Prresente etiam stautium plebe, quibus et ipsis pro fide et timore suo 
 honor liabendus est. Ep. 13. 
 
280 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF TIIF. CHURCH. 
 
 such outward mattei’s as the cleansing and good order of the 
 church, and the opening and closing of the doors. 
 
 The office of reader is, perhaps, the oldest among these. It 
 is mentioned as early as the close of the second century by 
 Tertullian.* * * § The others are mentioned together about the 
 middle of the third century, and for the first time, in a letter 
 of the Roman bishop Cornelius, cited by Eusebius.f The 
 office of acolyth had its origin most probably in the hierarchi¬ 
 cal pomp of the Roman church. It did not find its way into 
 the Greek church. The Greek name of the office is not 
 inconsistent with this view of its origin ; for the Greek 
 language was in frequent use at Rome, and many of the 
 Roman bishops were of Grecian extraction. As regards the 
 office of exorcist, the end it was to accomplish—whether it was 
 thought a work that might be performed by every Christian 
 who, in humble reliance on Christianity as having overcome 
 the power of evil, should call upon Ilis name, or was regarded 
 as a spiritual gift to certain individuals—had originally been 
 looked upon as a w r ork of the Holy Spirit independent of all 
 outward institutions. But now the free working of the Spirit 
 was to be confined to a formal, mechanical process. The 
 spirit of the ancient church, preserved for a longer time in the 
 East,J w 7 as rightly expressed, on the other hand, by the apos¬ 
 tolic constitutions; “ An exorcist cannot be chosen, for it is 
 the gift of free grace.” § 
 
 Quitting the subject of the general constitution of the church, 
 we now proceed to the forms of union by which the several 
 churches were bound together. 
 
 * Prescript, haeret. c. 41. f L. VI. c. 43. 
 
 X In the letter of Firmilianus, bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia, 
 (Cyprian, ep. 75,) mention is made of the church exorcists. But Origen 
 describes this sort of influence as something that was not confined to any 
 determinate office, but wholly free. He considers the influence as a 
 thing depending on the subjective piety of the individual that exercises 
 it, in Matth. '1'. XIII. s. 7 : EIVote 2 ioi tso) SigaTilciv uLff-^oXua^ai 
 
 •roiourov n rivo;, /u,h ooz'i£coju.zv, fj,7iTTiPvrcofjjiv, pridl X<zXuj(azy co; 
 
 d.Ko‘Jovn ru djcaSccorco rtviv/zecn, dXXcc <r'x / oXct£ovrzs •7r^o<nu~(ri ncti vrum/tf, Wtru- 
 
 'TTOOfTiVy^Of/.VJOl KiDi YOU ‘Z’iVTOvSo-TO;. 
 
 § L. VIII. C. 26 : Ov ‘x t uoorovu<7ou ) zLvoia; yao ikovg'iw ro I'TzSXov, y.ai 
 Ssaw oicc Hoicrrov. 
 
COUNTRY CHURCHES. 
 
 281 
 
 Forms of union by which the individual communities were 
 
 bound together. 
 
 With the inner fellowship, Christianity established also, from 
 the very first, a living outward union among its professors, by 
 which its remotest members were brought near to each other. 
 A determinate form was necessary to realize this union. And 
 this form was naturally enough determined by the forms of 
 social life under which Christianity first unfolded itself in the 
 Roman empire. But for these existing institutions, a system of 
 fraternal equality among the several communities would best 
 have answered to the spirit of Christianity, and most surely 
 have promoted its free, uncorrupted manifestation. Ex tonal 
 circumstances, however, soon gave rise to a system of subordi¬ 
 nation in the mutual relation of the several churches. This 
 system, like every other form of society which had grown out 
 of an historical development and contained nothing sinful, 
 Christianity could safely appropriate to itself. Yet, since this 
 relation was not sufficiently imbued with the free and free- 
 making spirit of the gospel, by being carried out to an undue 
 extent it tended to check and interrupt the development of 
 Christian doctrine and the life of the church. 
 
 ACe have already observed that in many districts Chris¬ 
 tianity early extended itself to the open country. Now, wher¬ 
 ever this happened, and the Christians in a village or country 
 town were in sufficient numbers to form a separate church, it 
 was most natural tor these to choose at once their own presi¬ 
 dents, presbyters, or bishops, who should be as independent as 
 the presidents ot the city churches. In the first centuries 
 indeed it is impossible, from the want of authentic records, to 
 adduce any instance of the fact; but in the fourth century we 
 find, in many districts of the East, c ountry -bishops, as they are 
 called, (x<-)fU77Lm;o7roi.) who, beyond doubt, could trace back 
 their origin to the oldest times; for in later periods, when the 
 system ot subordination among the churches was fully estab¬ 
 lished, and the country churches were accustomed to receive 
 their presidents from the city, no such relation could have 
 arisen. On the contrary, the chorepiscopi, wherever they yet 
 existed, seem to have entered into a struggle with those of the 
 city for the preservation of their independence. However, as 
 we have already observed, the more common case, in the dilfu- 
 
282 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 sion of Christianity, was for it to spread from the city to tiie 
 country. As long, therefore, as the Christians in the immediate 
 neighbourhood of the cities were few in number, they would 
 most naturally repair on the Lord’s day to the city in order to 
 join the assemblies held there. But in process of time,when their 
 numbers were sufficiently increased to form a church of their 
 own, they allowed the bishop of the city church which they had 
 been accustomed to frequent to set over them a presbyter, who 
 was consequently for ever after subordinate to the city bishop. 
 In this way the first greater union between city and country 
 churches, which together formed one whole, was established in 
 the church.* In the larger cities it may also have become 
 necessary to divide the city churches themselves, as was soon 
 the case in Borne, where, according to the Koman bishop 
 Cornelius, already referred to, there were in his time six-and- 
 forty presbyters ; though the statement of Optatus of Milevis, 
 that Borne contained, in the beginning of the fourth century, 
 more than forty churches, seems an exaggeration. Even in 
 this case, it did not always happen that distinct and subordinate 
 daughter-churches were formed by the side of, and subject to, 
 the one episcopal Head and Mother church. Most frequently 
 the community remained united as a whole ; and only on 
 Sundays and feast-days, when one building was insufficient to 
 accommodate all the members, they were divided into several 
 churches, where the different presbyters, according to a certain 
 rotation, conducted the public worship. We must, however, 
 distinctly admit, that, with regard to the early shaping of these 
 incipient relations, nothing can be decided with certainty. In 
 default of historical information on the subject, we can only 
 infer respecting the past from what we find to have been the 
 case in the succeeding times. 
 
 Again, as Christianity spread, for the most part, from the 
 cities into the country, so, as a general rule, it extended itself 
 from the principal cities (/. njTpovoXeie ) to the provincial towns. 
 Now, as the latter were politically subordinate to the former, 
 it was only natural that a close bond of union and subordinate 
 relation should gradually be formed in like manner between 
 the churches of the provincial towns and those of the principal 
 
 * The presbyters of whom Cyprian, at his examination before the pro- 
 consul, said, “ invenientur in civitatibus suis," were such presidents 
 of country churches. 
 
METROPOLITAN AND APOSTOLIC CHURCHES. 
 
 283 
 
 city or metropolis. The churches of a province constituted a 
 whole, at the head of which stood the church of the metropolis. 
 The bishop of this became, in relation to the other bishops of the 
 province, Primus inter pares. Yet, owing to local causes, this 
 relation did not everywhere unfold itself in the same way, and 
 at the present period was confined for the most part to the East. 
 
 A like relation to that between these metropolitan cities 
 and the provincial towns existed between the latter and the 
 capitals of the larger divisions of the Roman empire,—as seats 
 of government and the channels of commercial and general 
 intercourse. It was from such larger capitals that Christianity 
 was propagated through whole divisions of the vast empire ; 
 it was in them that the apostles themselves had orally 
 preached the gospel, founded churches, and appointed over 
 them their presiding officers ; and to the churches here esta¬ 
 blished their epistles were written. Hence, these churches, 
 which went under the name of ecclesise, sedes apostolicae, 
 matrices ecclesiae, were held in peculiar veneration. When 
 any controversy arose with regard to church discipline or 
 doctrine, the first inquiry was, How is the matter regarded in 
 these communities where the principles taught on the spot 
 by the apostles themselves have been faithfully preserved 
 from one generation to another ? Such ecclesiae apostolicae 
 were especially Rome, Antioch, Alexandria, Ephesus, Corinth. 
 
 But if this was true of the churches in the great capital 
 cities, it applied in a preeminent degree to the church of 
 Rome, the great capital of the world. The legend that St. 
 Peter, as well as St. Paul, died as a martyr at Rome, is not, it 
 is true, placed above all doubt; it is, however, older than the 
 attempt to exalt the Roman church through the primacy of its 
 founder the Apostle St. Peter. No doubt the origin of such a 
 legend does admit of being explained : a desire to confute the 
 Jews and Gnostics, who endeavoured to make out a difference 
 between these two great apostles, might have led to an attempt 
 to show that they were united even in a common martyrdom 
 in the capital of the world. It may too have grown out of 
 the stories of the contest between St. Peter and Simon 
 Magus. But these conjectures are certainly not sufficient to 
 warrant us in absolutely denying its truth, when so high 
 an antiquity speaks in favour of it. As to the many difficul¬ 
 ties which present themselves in relation to the concatenation 
 
284 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 of events, they may have their ground in the deficiency of our 
 historical information.* At all events, the belief univer¬ 
 sally diffused that these two great apostles had taught in the 
 Roman church, and honoured it by their martyrdom, contri¬ 
 buted to promote its authority. From Rome the larger 
 portion of the West had received the gospel ; from Roma 
 the common interests of Christianity could best be promoted 
 throughout the whole extent of the Roman empire. The 
 Roman bishops, heads of the wealthiest community, were 
 early known and distinguished in the most distant lands for 
 their liberal benefactions to the Christian brethren ; f and a 
 common interest bound all the communities of the Roman 
 empire to the church of the great capital. In Rome was the 
 ecclesia apostolica to which the largest portion of the West 
 could appeal as to their common mother. In general, what¬ 
 ever transpired in this “ apostolic church ” could not fail to 
 be well known to all; for Christians were continually pour¬ 
 ing into it from all quarters of the world. So Iren sens, who 
 wrote in Gaul, appeals,—as he does also occasionally to other 
 apostolic churches,—in one passage particularly to the eccle¬ 
 sia apostolica in Rome, as the greatest, tire oldest, (whieh 
 must be doubted,) the universally known, the church founded 
 by the two most illustrious apostles, where Christians congre¬ 
 gate from the churches of the whole world, and could not fail 
 to learn the doctrine taught by the apostles. J 
 
 .* Comp, the new inquiry into this matter in the 3rd edition of my 
 History of the Planting, &c, p. 516 et sea. 
 
 f Euseb. 1. IV. c. 23. 
 
 X L. III. c. 3. According to the ancient Latin translation (the Greek 
 original being unfortunately lost), “ Ad hanc ecclesiam, propter potiorem 
 priucipalitatem, necesse est omnem convenire ecclesiam, hoc est, eos qui 
 sunt undique fideles, in qua semper ab his, qui sunt undique, conservata 
 est ea, qum est ab apostolis traditio.” If we take the word convenire in 
 the intellectual sense,—all churches must agree with the Roman church 
 as the one having preeminence over the rest,—we have a meaning which 
 is by no means natural, and least of all one which coincides with the 
 circle of ideas elsewhere exhibited in Irenmus. What could be the 
 meaning of saying the churches of the whole world have preserved in 
 the Roman church the apostolic tradition ? It could only be understood 
 in some such way as this : that the Roman church was the centre and 
 representative of all the Christian churches; as if,—what was said in 
 later times,—the whole church was contained viitualiter in the Roman ; 
 an idea of which not the least trace is to be found in Irenmus, and a 
 mode of expression entirely foreign to this whole period. If the passage 
 
METROPOLITAN AND APOSTOLIC CHURCHES. 
 
 285 
 
 Moreover, by mean s of letters, and Christian brethren 
 who were travelling, a correspondence was maintained be¬ 
 tween the most distant churches in the Roman empire. When 
 
 is really to be understood in this way, it would be difficult to avoid the 
 suspicion that it is one instance of that interpolation of which so many 
 traces are to be observed in this writer. But although it is impossible, 
 in the absence of the original Greek, to decide with perfect certainty as 
 to the right interpretation of these words, yet there are other ways of 
 explaining them, which agree more completely with Irenmus’ mode of 
 thinking as elsewhere exhibited, and with the context of the whole 
 passage. In the first place, I must state that I cannot approve of the 
 interpretation proposed by the Licenciate Thiersch in the Studien und 
 Kritiken, J. 1842, 2tes Heft, S. 527, by which, we may admit, all diffi¬ 
 culties would be removed. According to that exposition, the phrase 
 “ in qua,” “ ev y,” should be referred not to the more remote subject, 
 “ hanc ecclesiam,” but to that which stands nearer, “omnem ecclesiam,” 
 as the antecedent,—every church in which the doctrine has been pre¬ 
 served pure, as the author himself explains: “ Dummodo ne in ea per 
 haereticos ipsos traditionis puritas inquinata sit, sive, Irentni verbis utar, 
 dummodo in ea a fidelibus cujusvis sint loci pure conservata sit tradita 
 ab Apostolis veritas.” But this exposition seems to me to be absolutely 
 opposed by the intervening sentence, “hoc est eos,” &c. If Irenseus 
 intended any such determination of ecclesia, he would certainly have 
 affixed it immediately to the word ecclesiam. And after all, it is most 
 natural to refer the relative to the Roman church as the principal sub¬ 
 ject. But now it is very questionable what Greek word the term “ con- 
 venire” corresponds to; whether to avfx^aivuv, as is supposed by Dr. 
 Gieseler, and by Dr. Nitzsch, who agrees with him, in his letter to Del- 
 briick, and by Licenciate Thiersch in the treatise above cited, or to 
 If the latter, then by coming must be understood a coming 
 to that place in person, and the passage would have to be explained 
 thus: On account of the rank which this church maintains as the 
 ecclesia urbis, all churches, that is, believers from all countries, must— 
 the “must” lies in the nature of the case—come together there; and 
 since now from the beginning Christians from al' countries must come 
 together there, it follows that the apostolic tradition has been preserved 
 from generation to generation by the Christians from all countries of 
 the world who are there united together. Every deviation from it 
 would here faT immediately under the observation of all. As confir¬ 
 matory of this interpretation, we might cite what Athenrcus says of the 
 city o f Rome (Deipnosoph. 1. 1, s. 36): “ OIkou^vs tijv 'P^v, 
 
 V 17 V P&U4JJV 7foXiv iTTiroyj'nv TVS oix.ou[/jivr \;, iv (ruviSnv hrriv ouru; Kara; Tag 
 
 rr'oXu? Ifyo/Aivas” So might one say, “ ’Ev ry 'P^*/»v txxXwria vrdtrx s 
 txxXr,triu; IJouyiva.;.” Yet I will not deny the difficulty attending the 
 interpretation of the second sentence : to the alteration of conservata 
 into observata, as proposed in the first edition, I can no longer agree. 
 It, on the one hand, we consider m/ftfialvuv to be the v'ord which answers 
 to “ convenire, ’ it would be the best way, with Gieseler, to suppose an 
 error of translation—that the translator had by mistake rendered the 
 
286 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 a Chiistian entered a strange city, his first inquiry was for 
 the church; and here he was received as a brother, and sup¬ 
 plied with whatever could contribute to his spiritual and to 
 his bodily refreshment. But as deceivers, the evil disposed, 
 and spies, and false teachers who sought only to gain adherents 
 to their peculiar opinions, abused the confidence and charity 
 of the Christians, it became necessary to adopt precautionary 
 measures to prevent the injuries which the indiscriminate prac¬ 
 tice might give rise to. A regulation was therefore adopted, 
 that only such travelling Christians as could produce a cer¬ 
 tificate from the bishop of the church from which they came 
 should be received as brethren in the churches to'which 
 they were strangers. These church letters,—which were 
 a kind of tessar® hospitales, by which Christians from every 
 quarter of the world were placed in fraternal union with each 
 other, received the name of epistolse or liter® format® 
 (ypdppcirct rervirufieva) ; because, to guard against forgery, 
 they were drawn up after a certain form (forma, rvrroc) ; * 
 they were also named “ epistol® communicator!® ” (ypd^/xara 
 Koijwuca), inasmuch as they indicated that the bearers were 
 in the communion of the church, as well as that the 
 w ! bishops who sent and received such letters were united toge- 
 ) \ ther in the bonds of church communion. By degrees the 
 church letters (epistol® cleric®) were divided in to ° different 
 classes, according to their different objects. 
 
 As a close bond of union was early formed between 
 
 Greek dative into “ ab his.” In this case the words would have to be 
 understood thus: “ in which church the apostolic tradition has ever been 
 preserved for the Christians of all countries of the world.” I cannot 
 deny that, in the comparison of these words with those at the beginning 
 of the same chapter, “ in omni ecclesia adest. respicere omnibus,” an 
 argument may be found in favour of the conjecture. But even according 
 to this interpretation, the same general view of Rome as that contained 
 in the passage from Athenseus would lie at the basis of the whole. I 
 think it will be unnecessary for me to remark that in this investigation 
 I am very far from being influenced by any Protestant interest. ^From 
 the position of a scientific understanding of the historical development 
 of Christianity not the slightest danger can accrue to the interests of 
 Protestantism, which 1 profess, by recognising a high antiquity of the 
 Roman Catholic element, both in general and in particular. 
 
 * How very necessary it was to guard against the falsification of such 
 church letters may be seen from a passage in Eusebius, 1. IV. c. 23, and 
 auother in Cyprian ep. 3. 
 
PROVINCIAL SYNODS. 
 
 2 87 
 
 churches of the same province, so it was also a consequence of 
 the catholic spirit of Christianity, that in all cases of emer¬ 
 gency, such as disputes on matters of doctrine, of Christian 
 morals, or church discipline, common deliberations should be 
 frequently held by deputies from these churches. Suchassem- 
 bhes become familiar to us in the controversies about the time 
 o celebrating Easter, and in the discussions on the Monta- 
 mstic prophecies, towards the close of the second century. 
 .But as permanent and regular assemblies, called together at 
 stated seasons, these provincial synods do not fall under our 
 notice before the end of the second or the beginning of the third 
 century. And even then it is only as a peculiar practice of a 
 single district, where local causes may have introduced such 
 an arrangement earlier than in other countries. This district 
 was Greece proper , where, from the time of the Achtean 
 league, the spirit of confederation had still maintained itself 
 As Christianity could attach itself to all national peculiarities! 
 so far as they contained in them nothing immoral, and even 
 enter into them, and in combination with them, to manifest 
 itself under a peculiar form, it might easily happen that the 
 civil spirit of federation which existed here should pass over to 
 the ecclesiastical, and give to the latter, still earlier than in 
 other countries, a form which was in fact well suited for the 
 common deliberations of the Christians. And thus out of the 
 representative assemblies of the civil communities,—the Am- ' 
 phictyomc councils,—sprang the provincial synods as repre¬ 
 sentative assemblies of the ecclesiastical bodies. As the Chris- • 
 tians, conscious that they were nothing and could do nothino- 
 without the Spirit from on High, were accustomed to preface 
 
 S7l7° rtaQt b r? 6SS w , ith P ra y er > 80 also ^ these assem- 
 
 ‘ n 6y P re P ared themselves for their public deliberations 
 by uniting in prayer to Him who had promised to enlighten 
 and guide by his Spirit those who believe in Him, whenever 
 
 midst of n T themselve , s " hol 'y »" Him, and to be in the 
 midst of all who were gathered together in his name.* 
 
 It seems that this regular institution was at first opposed 
 
 the* ddrd^entifrWrl?/- TertuI 1 ian ’ in a wo, ' k bitten at the beginning of 
 in locis concilia l v,„,f' |UnilS ’ C ,‘ L3 ' ): A t untur per Gracias ilia cert is 
 mune tractontur et ZZ ecc]esus .’ P er <1™ altiora quceque in com- 
 “SSSra J repMa ‘ u “““ nom mis Chris,iani m,g„a 
 
288 
 
 CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH 
 
 as an innovation, so that Tertullian felt himself called upon to 
 stand forth as its advocate.* Yet the prevailing spirit of the 
 church decided in favour of the arrangement, and down to 
 the middle of the third century the annual provincial synods 
 appear to be universal,—if we may judge from the fact that 
 we find them assembled at the same time in parts of the 
 Church as widely apart as Northern Africa and Cappadocia.t 
 
 These provincial synods were, beyond a doubt, calculated 
 to be eminently salutary in unfolding and purifying the life 
 of Christianity and of the Church, and indeed they did prove 
 so in many respects. By means of such general deliberations 
 the views of individuals might mutually enlarge and correct 
 each other; wants, abuses, and necessary reforms might, by 
 their common suggestions, be more easily and more fully 
 discussed, and the experience of each be made available to 
 all. Moreover it certainly savoured neither of fanaticism nor 
 hierarchical presumption, if the presidents and deputies of 
 these assemblies, conscious that they were assembled in the 
 name of Christ, confidently relied on the guidance of His 
 Spirit, Whose organs alone they desired to be. 
 
 But this confidence, so right and so salutary in itself, took 
 a false and mischievous direction when it ceased to be accom¬ 
 panied by a spirit of humility and self-renunciation, and by 
 an ever-living: consciousness of the condition to which Christ 
 had attached that promise, viz. of their being assembled in 
 his name. When, unmindful of this condition, the bishops 
 believed they were entitled merely as bishops to reckon on 
 the illumination of the Holy Spirit, so ungrounded an opinion 
 became the source of all the self-deceptions of spiritual pride 
 that dared to express itself in the customary words with which 
 the decrees of such synods were made known, “ under the inspi¬ 
 ration of the Holy Spirit”—“ Spiritu Sancto suggerente.” 
 
 The provincial synods, again, would operate as a check on 
 the development of the Church, if, instead of providing for 
 the interests of the communities according to the varying 
 wants of each period, they should attempt to bind changeable 
 
 * Ista solennia, quibus func prasens patrocinatus est sermo. 
 
 t Cyprian, ep. 40, and Firmiliauus of Caesarea in Cappadocia, in 
 Cyprian, ep. 75 : Necessario apud nos fit, ut per singulos annos seniores 
 et prapositi in unum conveniamus, ad disponenda ea, quce cune nostree 
 cominissa sunt. 
 
UNITY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 289 
 
 things to unchangeable laws. Finally, it seems to me an evil 
 that the people were excluded from all participation in these 
 assemblies, and that at last the bishops came to have the 
 sole power in them, and by the union with each other, which 
 these synods facilitated, made themselves more powerful 
 every day. 
 
 As the provincial synods were accustomed to communicate 
 their decisions on all important matters of common interest to 
 distant bishops, they thus served, at the same time, to place 
 tne more remote portions of the Church in living union with 
 eacli other, and to preserve them in this connection. 
 
 Union of the entire Church in one body , closely connected 
 
 and interdependent in all its parts. Outward Unity of the 
 
 Catholic Church , and its Mode oj Representation . 
 
 Thus from the obscure grain of mustard-seed, sown in the 
 field of the world, sprung up a tree which towered above all 
 the plants of the earth, and extended its branches in every 
 direction—that great whole of the Catholic Church, which 
 closely united in all its scattered parts, was, in its origin, its 
 course of development, and its constitution, distinguished 
 from all barely human institutions. The consciousness of 
 icing a member of such a body, that, victorious over all 
 opposition of earthly power, was destined to endure for ever 
 must have exercised a stronger and more lively influence on 
 Gentiles, who, knowing none but political and earthly bonds 
 of union, had no idea of a spiritual and moral tie which 
 should bind men together as members of the same heavenly 
 community. Still stronger and more elevating must this 
 consciousness have become under persecution, when all the 
 powers from without sought in vain to break asunder this 
 connection. Justly therefore did the Christians attach im¬ 
 portance even to this unity in its outward manifestation—to 
 this intimate connection even outwardly of all their brethren— 
 as serving to represent the unity of a higher life, and to 
 ex n nt the unity of the kingdom of God. In the outward 
 communion of the church they experienced the blessed 
 effects of the inward communion of the invisible kingdom of 
 God. And to maintain this unity they entered into conflict 
 both with the idealistic sects, which threatened to sever the 
 
290 
 
 UNITY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 inward bond of religious communion—the bond of faith— 
 by introducing into the Christian Church the old distinction 
 between a religion for the educated and refined, and a popular 
 belief (Vt'orte and yj'wenc), and thereby, as Clement of Alexan¬ 
 dria justly urged, dividing the Church into a multitude of 
 Theosophical schools ;* and also with those who, blinded by 
 self-will or passion, brought in divisions on mere outward 
 matters, while in faith thev agreed with the rest. 
 
 But a struggle which had its rise in a genuine interest for 
 Christianity, and had for its aim the putting down of some 
 one-sided subjective element that threatened to dissolve the 
 wholesome unity of the Church, might easily mislead to 
 another extreme—an undue estimation of externals—of the 
 existing forms, with which this unity was at first closely con¬ 
 nected. Since that outward unity was, beyond all doubt, not 
 altogether extrinsecal, but the image and expression of the 
 inward unity, and presented itself to the Christian conscious¬ 
 ness and experience in this connection, it was only too likely 
 for men in the zeal of controversy to be misled into confound¬ 
 ing in thought things which the feelings and experience of 
 every one had long fused together, and to consider them as 
 inseparably connected. Thus the idea of the Church and its 
 necessaiy unity was outwardly projected, and became ob¬ 
 jective. This outward Church became the primary one for 
 the religious consciousness, and the only possible medium of 
 communion with Christ. That which in all alike ought to 
 have formed itself outwardly from within, was transferred to 
 this communion thus brought about by means of a deter¬ 
 minate outward organism of certain visible forms, and con¬ 
 sequently the inner and the outward, the invisible and the 
 visible, inseparably blended together. This association in the 
 Christian consciousness we trace already in so early a writer 
 as Irenaeus. For he first of all defines the idea of the Church 
 subsisting under this determinate form of constitution, and 
 then puts down the communion of the Holy Spirit as some¬ 
 thing first derived from, and imparted by, the former: be¬ 
 ginning with, “ Ubi ecclesia, ibi et Spiritus Dei,” he after¬ 
 wards adds. “ et ubi Spiritus Dei, illic ecclesia.”f An entirely 
 
 * For the words of Clemens see St. 1. VII. p. 755 : A voo'ir-u.cSa 
 ^laroifiZ; (ioiWav Ji ekjsAWk;. f L. III. C. 24, S. 1. 
 
FIRST SPIRITUAL—THEN OUTWARD. 
 
 291 
 
 different apprehension of the idea of the Church and its neces¬ 
 sary unity would have been presented by simply reversing' the 
 order of these propositions. “ It is only at the breast of the 
 Church, as Irenaeus says, “ that man can be nursed to life, 
 lie cannot partake of the Holy Spirit who takes not refuge 
 in the Church. He who separates himself from this Church 
 renounces the fellowship of the Holy Spirit." Such are the 
 propositions which are based in that association of ideas. It 
 is true Irenaeus had in his mind such opponents only of the 
 Church as, by unchristian doctrine and temper, or some selfish 
 interest, had deprived themselves of the fellowship of the 
 divine life.* Not without good and sufficient reason was it 
 that he complained of those “who, from frivolous causes 
 divided, and, so far as in them lay, annihilated, the great and 
 glorious body of Christ.”-)- Of such doubtless he could say 
 with great truth that they could in no case occasion as much 
 good, through the divisions they excited, as they had done 
 ei ll. But the position thus held by Irenaeus might easily 
 lead to the imputing a bad temper and purpose to all who, 
 irom any motive soever, excited a reaction against the domi¬ 
 nant system, or produced a movement in the Church which 
 might lead to divisions. Now the characteristic principle of 
 the New Testament, which distinguishes it from the Old is 
 the outward development of the kingdom of God from within 
 mans spirit. Consequently in this giving objectiveness to the 
 kingdom of God—in this notion that the outward Church is 
 an indispensable medium—we may recognise the result of that 
 same confusion of the Old and the New Testament positions 
 winch we traced before in the notions of the priesthood and 
 of the clergy. Indeed both are necessarily connected; for 
 the existence and propagation of the Church must, in fact, 
 depend on the priesthood and its connection with Christ kept 
 up by the medium of the former. And then, besides the 
 priesthood, came also the episcopal system, as the outward 
 
 medium and foundation of the outward unity of the Church_ 
 
 a new step in the progress of Theocracy externally projected, 
 
 * Semetipsos frandant 
 pessimam. 
 
 J L- IV. c. 33, s. 7 : 
 
 Bvbo^OV TOV HoiffTOU 
 
 uvcuoqvvtci;. 
 
 a vita per sententiam malam et operationem 
 
 Aicc //.iKoas kva 'rv^oirtz; uirlus fziya. xa\ 
 r-l/ivovra.; kcu Siccigovyra;, xai orov ~o airoif 
 
 V 
 
 o 
 
292 
 
 UNITY OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 whose deep-reaching consequences must ever go on unfolding 
 themselves more widely. 
 
 As in perfecting the episcopal system, so also in this pro¬ 
 cess of giving an objective value to the outward Church by 
 confounding the principles of the Old and the New Testa¬ 
 ment, Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, played an important part. 
 On this point his treatise * De Unitate Ecclesiae,’ written 
 after the middle of the third century, amidst the divisions 
 with which he had to contend, is deserving of marked con¬ 
 sideration. This book contains a remarkable mixture of the 
 true and the false, arising from such an objective view of the 
 Church ; and in much that he says, when stripped of that out¬ 
 ward notion, and understood after a more inward sense, we 
 shall recognise the pure expression of the Christian conscious¬ 
 ness, especially when we apply to the propositions which he 
 lays down the distinction of the visible and the invisible 
 Church. We shall then find in this work much that is true, 
 made most justly to bear upon a self-seeking, insulating ten¬ 
 dency, that breaks loose from all connection with the fellow¬ 
 ship of divine life, whose foundation is Christ. What he says 
 of the outward relation to some determinate visible form of 
 manifestation of the Church requires only to be applied to 
 the inner relation to the communion of saints, subsisting in 
 union with Christ its head, whence the divine life flows forth 
 to the whole body of the members—which communion of 
 saints is, we must maintain, not necessarily confined to any de¬ 
 terminate form of constitution. “ Try to pluck away his 
 beams from the sun,” says Cyprian, “ the unity of the light 
 cannot be so divided. Break away the twig from the tree, it 
 cannot produce fruit. Cut oft’ the stream from its fountain, 
 it becomes dry. Just so the Church, permeated by the 
 light of the Lord, sends its rays through the whole world. 
 Yet the light which is thus diffused in all directions is one. 
 In the lap of that Church we were born; we are nourished 
 by its milk, and quickened by its spirit. Whatever breaks 
 itself off from the original stock, when thus apart by itself, 
 cannot breathe and live.” But all this, which in itself is quite 
 true, Cyprian referred exclusively to the existing Church, 
 connected—by means of the bishops, its pillars, as the suc¬ 
 cessors of the apostles and inheritors of their spiritual power— 
 with these apostles, and through them with Christ. His chain 
 
FIRST SPIRITUAL—THEM OUTWARD. 
 
 293 
 
 of ideas is this: Christ communicated to the apostles, the 
 apostles to the bishops by ordination,* the power of the Holy 
 Ghost; by the succession of bishops the power of the Holy 
 Ghost, from whom alone all religious acts receive their 
 efficacy, is, through the channel of this outward transmission, 
 continually handed down to all times. Thus in this organiza¬ 
 tion of the Church is preserved, and ever unfolds itself 5 with a 
 living progression, that divine life, which, flowing from the 
 fountain-head through this channel, is distributed to all the 
 parts, still united to the organic whole; and whoever breaks 
 off his external connection with this outward organization, puts 
 himself thereby out of communion with that divine life and 
 out of the way to salvation. Ho one by himself alone, through 
 belief in the Saviour, has any share in the divine life that 
 flows from him; no one by this belief alone can secure to 
 himself all the blessings of God’s kingdom; all these, on the 
 contrary, must be derived through these organs and by union 
 with them—the union with the Catholic Church, which, 
 through the succession of bishops, derives itself from Christ. 
 
 This outward view of the Church, however, when it had 
 progressed so far, called forth a reaction, which, resting on 
 the words of Christ Himself, strove to establish a more spi¬ 
 ritual understanding of its idea. A class of persons, perhaps 
 laymen,| opposed themselves to Cyprian, and appealed to the 
 promise of Christ, that “ where two or three were gathered 
 together in His name, there He would be in the midst of 
 them ” (Matth. xviii. 20). Every association of true believers, 
 they argued, was a church. But Cyprian, on the other hand, 
 styled such as urged this objection corruptors of the gospel. 
 He accused them of rending these words from the context, 
 and thereby giving a false turn to them. He maintained that 
 Christ had made harmony among believers, the union of hearts 
 in love, the condition of the fulfilment of this promise. He 
 then proceeded to argue “But how is it possible for that 
 
 * See on its original form and significance my History of the Plant¬ 
 ing, &c., vol. i. p. 213 . 
 
 t Cyprian describes them thus: Nec se quidam vana interpretatione 
 decipiaut, quod, dixerit Dominus: Ubicunque fuerint duo aut tres 
 collecti in nomine meo, ego cum iis sum. Corruptores evangelii atque 
 interpretes falsi. See next note. 
 
 + Extrema ponunt et superiora praetereunt, partis memores et partem 
 subdole comprimentes. Ut ipsi ab ecclesia scissi sunt, ita canituli unius 
 
294 
 
 peter’s primacy 
 
 person to agree with any individual, who does not agree with 
 the body of the Church itself and the whole brotherhood ? 
 How can two or three be gathered together in the name of 
 Christ, who are separated from Christ and his gospel ?” He 
 looks in vain for the fulfilment of the condition to which this 
 promise was attached, in men who, from selfishness or way¬ 
 wardness, had separated from the Church ; for they were the 
 authors of the schism—the Church had not separated from 
 them.* But who is that infallible judge of men’s inward dis¬ 
 position who shall be able, from their outward conduct towards 
 the Church, not always tree from blemish, to infer with cer¬ 
 tainty that such a temper exists, amidst the struggle of parties, 
 where ignorance and misapprehension are quite possible, and 
 right and wrong may be on both sides ? 
 
 As the outward projection and objectivity of the idea of the 
 church gave rise to the assumption of its necessary outward 
 unity, so this led to the thought that there should be some 
 fixed point for the outward representation of this outward 
 unity. This notion was at first very vague and undefined, 
 but it was, nevertheless, the germ from which sprang the papal 
 monarchy of the middle ages. 
 
 Now it was, without doubt, no accidental circumstance that 
 the Apostle Peter, rather than any other of the apostles, 
 became the representative of this unity for the religious con¬ 
 sciousness of the Western church. For on him especially, in 
 virtue of his natural character, ennobled by the Holy Spirit, 
 the charisma of church government had been bestowed. This 
 Christ adopted for the development of the first community, 
 when He named him the Man of Rock, and made him the 
 man of rock on which He would build his church. But this 
 He said, not to that Peter with whom the human passed for 
 more than the divine—not to that Peter whom rather He 
 called a Satan, but to the one who had uttered the mighty 
 witness to Him as the Son of God, and in so far as he had 
 uttered this—that one to whom He could say, “ Blessed art 
 
 sententiam scindunt—. Unanimitatem prius posuit, concordiam pacis 
 ante prsemisit, ut conveniat nobis, fideliter et firmiter docuit. Quomodo 
 autem potest ei cum aliquo convenire, cui cum oorpore ipsius ecclesite 
 non convenit ? Quomodo possunt duo aut tres in nomine Christi colligi, 
 quos constat a Christo et ab ejus evangelio separari? 
 
 * Non enim nos ab illis, se illi a nobis recesserunt. 
 
A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 29.3 
 
 thou, for flesh and blood have not revealed this unto thee, but 
 my Father in heaven.” This peculiar charisma gained for 
 this apostle the position he held in speaking- and acting in the 
 name of the first church.* Yet with all this, preeminence 
 and authority over the rest of the apostles was not conceded to 
 him. Indeed, the question of precedence of rank was never 
 once to be raised among them. Every assumption of that 
 kind was severely rebuked by Him who came not to be 
 ministered unto, but to minister. (Luke xxii. 24.) All 
 rather were to vie in serving one another. Three were the 
 apostles whom, by reason of their personal character, Christ 
 distinguished above the rest. Peter was only one of these. 
 Each of them had his own particular charisma and his peculiar 
 position dependent thereon. As Peter was the man of Pock, 
 working outwardly, so John possessed that charisma by virtue 
 of which he leaned on the Lord’s bosom, and penetrated most 
 deeply both into his being and into the meaning of Iris dis¬ 
 courses. As his peculiar charisma and position caused Peter 
 to stand forth from the veiy first at the founding of the 
 church, so the charisma and position of St. John caused him 
 to retire from view, and to take no prominent part until a later 
 period, when it became necessary to reconcile the oppositions 
 that had arisen, to restore peace among the conflicting ele¬ 
 ments, and to tranquillise and settle the agitated communities. 
 The great apostle to the Gentiles maintained, in the most 
 decided manner, his apostolical independence against that Jew¬ 
 ish principle which, estimating everything by an outward and 
 objective standard, subsequently, under another form, was 
 mixed up with the development of the church; and St. Paul 
 could say of himself that grace had effected more by him than 
 by all the others. 
 
 From these remarks, then, it must be clear that the idea of 
 the primacy of St. Peter rested on nothing but a misunder¬ 
 standing both of the position which had been assigned him in 
 the progressive movement of the church, as also of the par¬ 
 ticular titles which were given to him. But still it was 
 not without reason that this tendency attached itself to his 
 name. 
 
 In iiis work on the unity of the church Cyprian justly 
 * See my History of the Planting, &c., Vol. II. p. 505 et seq. 
 
296 
 
 peter’s primacy 
 
 observes that all the apostles had received from Christ the 
 same dignity and the same power with Peter. But still lie is 
 of opinion that in one passage Christ bestows this power on 
 Peter in particular—says of him specially that on him He 
 will build His church—gives it in charge to him in particular 
 to feed His sheep ; and that this was done for the purpose of 
 showing how the whole development of the church and the 
 priesthood was to radiate from one point, in order to manifest 
 most clearly the unity of the church, the unity of the episcopal 
 power. The Apostle Peter appears to him to be as the repre¬ 
 sentative of the one church, abiding in the unity she derived 
 from the divine appointment, and of the one episcopal power, 
 which, though distributed among many organs, yet in its origin 
 and essence is and ever remains but one. Whoever, therefore, 
 forsakes the outward fellowship with the one visible catholic 
 church, tears himself away from the representation of the 
 unity of the church connected by divine appointment with the 
 person of the Apostle Peter. How is it possible for any one 
 to suppose he continues still to be a member of the church of 
 Christ when he forsakes the cathedra Petri on which the church 
 was founded ? * 
 
 But even allowing that the Apostle Peter might be con¬ 
 sidered as the representative of the unity of the church, still it 
 by no means follows that such a centre of representation must 
 be continued in the church through every age. Still less does 
 it follow that this central representation must reside per¬ 
 manently in the Roman church. For although we admit as 
 true the tradition that the Apostle Peter visited the church at 
 Rome, yet it is most certain that he was not the founder of 
 this church, and never was at its head as bishop. With as 
 much propriety can this church be called the cathedra Pauli 
 as the cathedra Petri. Irenaeus and Tertullian are indeed of 
 opinion that Peter and Paul were its founders, that they gave 
 it a bishop, and honoured it by their martyrdom. But that 
 
 * Some trace of this mode of explaining the above passages relating 
 to the Apostle Peter may be found even in Tertullian. Priescript. 
 haeret. c. 22 : “ Latuit aliquid Petrum aedificandaeecclesise Petrum dictum, 
 claves regni coelorum consecutum et solvendi et alligandi in coelis et in 
 terris potestatem ?’’ This language shows that he was not a Montanist 
 •when he wrote this book; as is evident by comparing it with what he 
 wrote when a Montanist in his book de Pudicitia, of which we shall speak 
 hereafter. 
 
A MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 297 
 
 the Roman church, as the cathedra Petri, held a preeminence 
 over all other apostolic churches (sedes Apostolic®) is a matter 
 of which they are wholly ignorant. Yet as the idea of an out¬ 
 ward unity of the church could suggest the notion of an outward 
 representative of that unity, so the recognition of such an his¬ 
 torical representation might easily pass out of the ideal into the 
 real world, and consequently the exhibition of this unity at a 
 determinate point came to be considered not barely as a thing 
 that once existed , but as necessary for the existence of the 
 church in all times. And as it was not by mere chance that 
 the apostle had been made the representative of the church 
 guidance, so too was it not by mere chance that men, when 
 once disposed to look for an outward representation of eccle¬ 
 siastical unity for all times, transferred this dignity precisely 
 to the church of the great city which was called to rule hi the 
 world. As most of the western communities were wont to 
 regard the Roman church as their mother, their ecclesia apos- 
 iolica, to whose authority they especially appealed ; as they 
 were accustomed to call St. Peter the founder of the Roman 
 church, and to refer to him the traditions of the Roman church ; 
 and as Rome was then the seat of the empire of the world; it 
 so came to pass that men began to look upon the Roman church 
 as the cathedra Petri, and to apply to this cathedra Petri 
 whatever had been said of the Apostle Peter as representative 
 of the unity of the church. In the objective embodying of 
 the conception of the church, from which this form of the out¬ 
 ward presentation of its unity gradually arose, the way was 
 already prepared for the conversion of the political supremacy 
 of the “ city ” into this spiritual form—a transference, more¬ 
 over, which contained the germ of the secularisation of Christ’s 
 kingdom. 
 
 In Cyprian we find this transference already complete. In 
 proof of our assertion we will adduce not only the passage in 
 his book De Unitate Ecclesi®, where the reading is disputed,* 
 
 * Though, in the passage, “ Qui ecclesife renititur et resistit, [qui 
 cathedram Petri, super quem fundata est ecclesia, deserit,] in ecclesia se 
 esse eonfidit?” the suspected clause, here included in brackets, were 
 genuine, yet it would not follow that in this particular instance Cy¬ 
 prian had in his mind the cathedra Petri subsisting at his time in the 
 Homan church; but the phrases, “ ecclesiaj reniti,” and “cathedram 
 Petri deserere,” seem rather, according to the context, to be absolutely 
 
298 
 
 ARROGANT CLAIMS OK ROMAN BISHOPS. 
 
 but an uneontroverted passage, ep. 55, ad Cornel., where he 
 styles the Roman church the “ Petri cathedra, ecclesia princi¬ 
 palis, unde unitas sacerdotalis exorta est.” 
 
 Without doubt this idea was still very obscure and vague; but 
 the false principle once established, the more vague its notion 
 the more room would there be for introducing new meanings 
 and for extracting new consequences. In the minds of the 
 Roman bishops this idea seems early to have obtained a more 
 fixed and definite shape ; and the Roman love of rule seems 
 early to have insinuated itself here into ecclesiastical affairs, 
 and came forward in a spiritual garb. 
 
 Very early indeed do we observe in the Roman bishops 
 traces of the assumption that to them, as successors of 
 St. Peter, belonged a paramount authority in ecclesiastical 
 disputes ; that the cathedra Petri, as the source of the apostolic 
 tradition, must take precedence of all other ecclesiae apostolicm. 
 Such an assumption was put forward by the Roman bishop 
 Victor, when, about a.d. 190, he excommunicated the churches 
 of Asia Minor on account of some trifling dispute relating to 
 a mere external matter.* In the Montanistic writings of 
 Tertullian we find indications that the Roman bishops already 
 issued peremptory edicts on ecclesiastical matters, endeavoured 
 to make themselves considered as the bishops of' bishops — 
 episcopos episcoporum f — and were in the habit of appealing 
 to the authority of their “ antecessores.” \ 
 
 After the middle of the third century the Roman bishop 
 Stephen allowed himself to be carried away by the same spirit 
 of hierarchical arrogance as his predecessor Victor. In a dis- 
 
 equivalent, so that his meaning -would be,—he who breaks his connection 
 with the one only church, does by that very act attack the representation 
 of the church unity which had been attached by Christ himself to the 
 person of the Apostle Peter. The whole apostolic and episcopal fulness 
 of authority as one, although manifesting itself through different organs, 
 appears to him to be represented in the spiritual power transferred to 
 the Apostle Peter. The entire episcopatus, or the cathedra of all the 
 bishops conceived as one = the cathedra Petri, therefore to renounce 
 obedience to the bishops is the same as to attack the cathedra Petri. 
 
 * The dispute about the time of celebrating Easter, of which mention 
 will be made hereafter. 
 
 t Tertullian, de pudicitia, c. 1: Audio, edictum esse propositum et 
 quidem peremptorium: pontifex scilicet maximus, quod est episcopus 
 episcoporum, edicit. 
 
 $ Tertullian, de virg. velandis. 
 
OPPOSITION TO THEM. IEEN7EUS—CYPRIAN. 299 
 
 pute by no means important * * * § it was his wish also to obtrude 
 the tradition of the Roman church on all other churches as an 
 invariable and decisive law ; and he excommunicated the 
 churches of Asia Minor and of North Africa, which refused 
 to acknowledge such a rule, j 
 
 But it was far from being the case that these assumptions 
 of the Roman bishops were acknowledged even through the 
 whole Western Chuvch—to say nothing here of the opposition 
 they had to encounter from the freer tendencies of the Greek 
 Church. In the first-named dispute, the churches of Asia 
 Minor, without suffering themselves for a moment to be led 
 away by the arrogant language of Victor, maintained their 
 own principles, and set against the tradition of the Roman 
 church the tradition of their own sedes apostolic®. Irenseus, 
 bishop of Lyons, ^ in a letter to the Roman bishop Victor, 
 severely rebuked his unchristian arrogance, although agreeing 
 with him on the point disputed. He disapproved of Victor’s 
 attempt to impose one form of church observances on all the 
 churches : and declared that nothing was required but agree¬ 
 ment in faith and in love; and that this, instead of being dis¬ 
 turbed by outward differences, would shine forth more clearly 
 through them. He recognised the right of every church in 
 such matters to follow freely and independently its own 
 ancient usage. To the authority of tradition in any single 
 church by itself he objected the fact that tradition often 
 originates in, and is propagated by, simplicity and ignorance.§ 
 Although Cyprian, as we have before remarked, looked 
 upon the Roman church as really the cathedra Petri, and 
 as the representative of the outward unity of the church, 
 yet he was far from allowing for these reasons any right in 
 that church to decide all matters controverted in the whole 
 church. On the contrary, he fiimly and vigorously main¬ 
 tained the independence of individual bishops in administer¬ 
 ing the afiairs of their churches after their own principles; 
 
 * The dispute about the validity of baptism administered by heretics, 
 also to be noticed elsewhere. 
 
 f Nihil innovetur nisi quod traditum est—he declared,—se per suc- 
 cessionem cathedram Petri habere. Cyprian, ep. 74 et 75. 
 
 I Euseb. 1. V. c. 24. 
 
 § T atv wufiu. to u; uxo; xgaroitTV? rbii *«S-’ aorkoT'OTU y.u) ihcuTiTfici v 
 
 avvriSuav tls to ftiTZoriiTa orivoinKOTwj. 
 
300 
 
 CYPRIAN OrrOSES 
 
 and in spite of the opposition of the Roman church he carried 
 out what he held to be right. At the beginning of the 
 second of the controversies already alluded to he communi¬ 
 cated to Stephen, the Roman bishop, the principles of the 
 Aorth African church, which he well knew did not accoid 
 with the Roman usages, and in the name of a synod addressed 
 him as one colleague, conscious of an equality of dignity and 
 of rights, addresses another. “ In virtue, of our common dig¬ 
 nity,” says he, “ and in sincere love, we have communicated 
 these things to you, dearest brother ; for w r e hope that what¬ 
 ever is agreeable to piety and truth will also, in the measure 
 of your true faith and piety, be pleasing to you . . We aie we 
 aware, indeed, that many are reluctant to lay aside what they 
 have once taken up, and slow to change the principles they 
 have adopted, but, without breaking the bond of unity and 
 peace with colleagues, retain many peculiarities which have 
 become customary among them. In matters of this sort, we 
 put no restraint, we impose no law, on any man ; since, in the 
 management of the affairs of his own church, every bishop 
 has the use of his free will, having hereafter to render an 
 account of his administration to the Lord.”*. 
 
 Even after the violent denunciations which followed from 
 the Roman bishop, Cyprian maintained the same principle 
 before a council of more than eighty of the bishops of .North 
 Africa, whom he invited severally to deliver their own views 
 with freedom; “for no one,” said he, “ should make himself 
 a bishop of bishops.” When Stephen appealed to the author¬ 
 ity of the ancient Roman tradition, and spoke against innova¬ 
 tions, Cyprian replied "j" that it was rather Stephen himsel 
 who made the innovations, and fell away from the unity of the 
 church. “ Whence then,” he says, “ comes that tradition r 
 Is it collected from the words of our Lord and from the autho¬ 
 rity of the gospels, or from the teaching and epistles of the 
 apostles ? Custom, which has crept in among some, ought not 
 to hinder the truth from prevailing and triumphing ; for cus¬ 
 tom without truth is but antiquity of error4 He beautifully 
 
 * Qua in re nec nos vim cuiquam facimus aut legem damus, quando 
 habeat in ecclesiae administratione voluntatis suae arbitmim liberum 
 unusquisque praepositus, rationem actus sui Domino redditurus. 
 
 + Ed. 74, ad Pompej. . .. , . * 
 
 + Nec consuetudo, quae apud quosdam obrepserat, impedire debet 
 
THE CLAIMS OF ROME. 
 
 301 
 
 remarks, that it is no more beneath the dignity of a Roman 
 bishop than of any other man to suffer himself to be corrected 
 when he is in the wrong; “ for the bishop ought not only to 
 teach, but to learn; for lie surely teaches best who is daily 
 learning something new and goes on improving the old.” Fir- 
 milian also, bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia, in declaring 
 his agreement with Cyprian, expressed himself strongly against 
 the unchristian behaviour of Stephen, in forbidding the Roman 
 church to receive the deputies of the North African church 
 into their houses. He blamed him as one who, while he 
 boasted of being the successor of the Apostle St. Peter, on 
 whom was built the unity of the church, did nevertheless by 
 liis uncharitable and arrogant proceedings rend that unity. 
 Besides doctrinal arguments, he opposes to the alleged tradi¬ 
 tion of the Roman church the tradition of other ancient 
 churches; and in proof of the Romans not observing in all 
 points the original tradition, and consequently appealing in 
 vain to the authority of the apostles, he adduces the fact that 
 in many matters they departed from the customs of the church 
 at Jerusalem, and of the ancient apostolical churches.* And 
 yet, lie observes, notwithstanding these differences, no one had 
 ever thought of accusing them with disturbing the unity and 
 peace of the catholic church, j- 
 
 Cyprian had shown, on an earlier and very different ques¬ 
 tion, how far he was from recognising in the Roman bishop a 
 supreme jurisdiction over the church, or from countenancing 
 them in the exercise of it. Two Spanish bishops, Basilides 
 and Martialis, had been deposed by a synod, as being libella- 
 tici, and otherwise offenders; and it is said they themselves 
 acknowledged the justice of the sentence. In the place of 
 Basilides, moreover, a successor had been chosen by the pro¬ 
 vincial bishops, with the concurrence of the church over which 
 he had presided. T lie deposed bishops however had recourse 
 to Stephen bishop of Rome; and the latter, assuming a 
 supreme judicial authority, reversed the sentence of the eccle¬ 
 siastical court in Spain, and restored them both to their office; 
 w aether it was that he found good reasons for such a step in 
 
 quominus veritas pncvaleat et vincat: naru consuetudo sine veritate 
 vetustas errons est. * Ep. 75 . 
 
 f Eos autem, qui Roma; sunt, non ea in omnibus observare, qucc sunt 
 ab ongine tradita, et frustra apostolorum auctoritatem praitendere. 
 
302 
 
 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. 
 
 what they alleged in their justification, or that there was 
 already a strong inclination in the Roman church to favour 
 those that appealed to its jurisdiction. A contest now arose 
 in Spain on the question whether the first or the second 
 sentence was to be respected, and the churches of North 
 Africa were applied to for their advice. The North African 
 synod at Carthage, with Cyprian, who answered in their name, 
 did not hesitate to pronounce the sentence of the Roman 
 bishop invalid, and strongly charged the Spanish churches not 
 to suffer the two unworthy bishops to continue in office. Into 
 the question, whether the Roman bishop possessed any such 
 supreme appellate jurisdiction, Cyprian did not enter; but 
 without further discussion he declared the unjust sentence, 
 resting as it did on insufficient grounds, to be void. “ The 
 regular ordination,” he observed * (meaning of the successor 
 to the deposed bishop Basilides), “ cannot be rendered null, 
 because Basilides, after the discovery and confession of his 
 offences, went to Rome and deceived our colleague Stephen, 
 who, being at a distance, could not be acquainted with the 
 real circumstances of the case; so that he who had been 
 deposed by a just sentence would, by his cunning contrivance, 
 be reinstated in his office.” Perhaps the mortification which 
 the hierarchical ambition of Stephen experienced on this occa¬ 
 sion—although in other respects Cyprian speaks of him with 
 great moderation—had much to do in influencing the obstinate 
 stand which he made in the later controversy of which we 
 have before spoken. 
 
 Cliurbh Discipline. Exclusioyi from the Fellowship of the 
 Visible Church. De-admission to the same. 
 
 As the founder of the church had foretold, the process of 
 its development could be none other than one continually 
 renewed process of refining. The idea of a perfectly pure and 
 holy church was not realizable in the earthly course of its his¬ 
 tory ; for the life communicated by Christ to humanity can 
 only be propagated in a never-ceasing conflict with the power 
 of sin, which from without resists the current of that life, and 
 is ever threatening to enter into and to disturb it. Even 
 
CHURCH DISCIPLINE. 
 
 303 
 
 the church which most truly answers to the idea thereof 
 the church of the regenerate and sanctified—is ever in- 
 waully affected by the reaction of this principle of sin never 
 wholly overcome; and consequently it is in continual need of 
 cleansing. But this church, though in its essence invisible 
 is yet represented in a visible form; and to this its outward 
 manifestation various elements become attached, which in no 
 respect partake of that inner essence;—and there are no sure 
 and certain marks whereby these heterogeneous components 
 may be distinguished and separated. Manifold are the grada- 
 tions through which it is possible to pass from the true church 
 to its antagonist the world, which is ever striving to draw her 
 into itself and to mould her by its own spirit; which however 
 can never be fully accomplished unless she enter herself into 
 such a union Accordingly the perfect sifting of the chaff from 
 the wheat, which can never be completed by any human judg¬ 
 ment, and which would prematurely sever the threads of his¬ 
 torical development ordained and guided by divine wisdom, 
 and would hinder the church in her appointed work of 
 re ormmg the world, must be left to a higher tribunal, and 
 can only take place when the threads of history shall have 
 
 However, the church, when left wholly to herself, and inde¬ 
 pendent as yet of the state, might effect, if not a perfect vet 
 a certain .separation. She might openly exclude from herself 
 such foreign elements as showed themselves to be such bv 
 marks not to be mistaken, just as, long before, the Jewish 
 synagogues had exercised a similar discipline over their 
 respective members. The early churches were justified hi 
 seeking in this way to guard against the infection of pagan 
 immorality, and thereby practically to bear witness that °the 
 mere profession of the faith made no man a Christian- that 
 
 hls dai] y llfe contradicted the laws of Christianity 
 nas not to be regarded as a Christian brother. 3 
 
 Accordingly the Apostle Paul declared the Christian 
 churches not only justified, but even bound to eject all 
 imnmthy members from their communion (1 Cor. v.j With 
 all the heathen the Christians might eat and hold every kind of 
 in ei course; but the society of apostate brethren they were 
 ft ° h : te } y ' t0 , m order to show them practically that 
 
 they had forfeited all claim to the title of Christian brethren. 
 
304 
 
 CHURCH DISCIPLINE. 
 
 Tertullian therefore might well say to the pagans, 1 Those 
 who are no Christians are wrongfully called so ; such m 
 truth take no part in our religious asssemblies; they do not 
 receive the communion with us; they have by their sins 
 become yours again, for we do not hold intercourse even with 
 those whom your cruelty has forced to denial of the faith. 
 And yet in truth we should more readily tolerate amongst us 
 those J who through compulsion than those who voluntarily 
 have deserted the principles of our religion. Moreover it is 
 without cause that you call those Christians who are not 
 acknowledged as such by those Christians who refuse at any 
 
 hazard to deny themselves* - . 
 
 But the church was designed also to be a teacher of her 
 children. She must never give up the hope of recovering the 
 fallen. By this very exclusion from the society of the 
 brethren, those who had fallen would, it was hoped, if they 
 still retained any better feelings, be brought to a sense of 
 their guilt, and be awakened to a fruitful repentance. 1 
 in their subsequent life they gave any sign of this, they were o 
 be taken under the spiritual care of the church, and at leng i, 
 after they had given sufficient proof of the sincerity of their 
 repentance, were once more to be admitted to the communion. 
 Such was the direction of the Apostle Paul. Various regu¬ 
 lations were in the course of time introduced with regard to 
 the cases which should be visited with such excommunication 
 from the church; to the mode of life which the excommuni¬ 
 cated ou°dit to lead; to the proofs of remorse and penitence 
 which they must give; and to the length of time such excom¬ 
 munications were to last. All these points were determined 
 according to the nature of the different offences and the moral 
 character evinced by the several offenders. Out of those w ho 
 stood in this relation to the church there was formed a parti- 
 . cular class, designated by the name of pcenitentes. lertullian 
 requires “ that the inward compunction of conscience should 
 be manifested also by outward acts ;t that they should express 
 their sorrow by their whole dress, pray until fasting or >e 
 forgiveness of their sins, lay before the church a confession oi 
 their sins, beg of their Christian brethren to pray for them, 
 
 * Ad nation. L I. c. 5. 
 
 | Ut non sola conscientia preeferatur, sed aliquo 
 tretur. De poenitentia, c. 9. 
 
 etiam actu adminis- 
 
CIIURCII PENANCE. 
 
 305 
 
 and especially that they should humble themselves before the 
 pnests and the known friends of God ”* To thosp whn f 
 feed themselves to be hep. back by shame from“^1° cm I 
 
 wht? bef0re the c !' urch ’ 1,e sa y s >t “This may be grievous 
 "here one exposes himself to contempt and to mockerv 
 
 where others exalt themselves at the expense of him who has 
 
 wher^ti ™! 1,1 ? mi - dst ° f brethren and fellow-servants, 
 
 ^ l.cre the hope, fear, joy, pain, a,id suffering are shared in 
 
 common, because one common spirit proceeds from one com- 
 111011 L °, rc ' and Father, why should you there consider your 
 own as different from yourself? Why, while your grief i to 
 
 ovZ™ '■ZZ n ' d0ym / y - fr0m them » »' 
 
 I°S members T, y C f"!' 0t , rt V° ,ce the surtferir.g- of any of 
 Its members. ihe whole body must share in the nain nnrl 
 
 contribute to the cure. Where two are together, there is'the 
 
 church ; but the church is Christ. When, then, you embrace 
 
 the knees of your brother, you embrace Christ —vou are 1 
 
 suppliant to Christ. And so, when they weep over you 
 
 Christ also suffers Christ supplicates the Fathet. Easify is 
 
 that obtained which the Son suppliantly asks of the Father ” 
 
 Origen writes,* “ The Christians mourn over those who have 
 
 been overcome by lust or any other notorious vice as they 
 
 yre dead; and after a while, when they have given suffi- 
 
 c en evidence of a change of heart, they restore thenTto the 
 
 standing of catechumens, receiving them once more even as 
 
 li^eii from the dead.” Their penitence having been satisfac 
 
 toniy proved, absolution and restoration to the communion'of 
 
 he church were imparted to them, with the sign of blessing ’ 
 
 the laying on of the hands of the bishop and clergy 
 
 stato regulatl0ns mi & ht be in the then existing 
 
 • ‘ . church, as a means of Christian culture vet thev 
 
 involved the peat danger of the inner essence bltat coZ 
 
 nptioli of'the 1 chZY7\ f T n ’ es ^cially when the objective 
 Su-d, tor ? . Jlad be come a fundamental principle 
 
 n emoted to? 6 ’ Tf ^ be6U the case eitbe >’ -hen it waj 
 attempted to connect the expression of penitent feeling w ; th 
 
 certain uniform signs, and die opinio/arose thaf hftheto 
 
 eie would always be contained the essence of true penitence 
 
 itself; or, when no distinction was made betwixt absolutl 
 
 * L. c. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 f L. c. c. 10. 
 
 t C. Cels. 1. II r. c. 51. 
 
306 
 
 CHURCH PEXASCE. 
 
 and the divine forgiveness of sins. The teachers of the 
 church, indeed, did not fail to insist upon the inward sentimen 
 as the principal point on which everything depended, and to 
 o-uard against all substitution of the mere outward sign tor the 
 true penitence of the heart. “ When the man condemns him¬ 
 self " says Tertullian,* “ God acquits linn, bo far, *feveme, 
 t L ml Larest not thyself, God will spare thee. And thus 
 also, in a letter written in the latter half of the third century, 
 says Firmilian, bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia A ltl u ^ 
 the bishops and priests meet once a year to consult together 
 for the recovery by repentance of our fallen brethren, not as 
 thouoh they received from us the forgiveness of sins, but 
 that,°by our means, they may be brought to a sense of the r 
 sins and driven to render a more perfect satisfaction to the 
 Lord ” t Cyprian explains himself thus: “ We do not pre- 
 
 hido-e the Lord’s judgment; therefore, if He find the sinner s 
 repentance true and perfect, He will ratify our decision^ but 
 if any man shall have deceived us by a feigned repentance, 
 then may God, who will not be mocked, and who seal diet 
 the hean, decide what we have failed to see through, and may 
 the Lord correct the sentence of his servants. 
 
 But still it cannot be denied that even here were felt conse¬ 
 quences resulting from the outward embodying of the conception 
 of the church aSd .he Old Testament views of the priesthood. 
 The pass”' sentence on such as had rendered themselves 
 liable to the penance of the church was assigned exclusively 
 ' to the priesthood; and the full power of exercising it was 
 derived from the authority to bind and to loose given to the 
 apostles. To submit to the judgment of the priest appealed 
 an act of that humility which belongs to the essence, o1 true 
 nenitence § And so the notion was formed that the penances 
 of the church might be considered as satisfactions to be paid to 
 God.ll Perhaps there were some who were opposed to such a 
 view of the necessity of outward penance, ana tic 1 
 
 • De pamitentia, c. 9. t Cyprian, ep. 75. 
 
 } t'te word? In “a l« “ihe Confessors, in Cyprian (ep. 26.) i 
 hLuL at,* snbjectio, alienum de se expeetasse judicium, alien™ de 
 
 S, TwS“TTe“ilian's book de Pamitentia; a term derived 
 which he had studied and practised m early life. 
 
VENIAL AND MORTAL KINS. 
 
 307 
 
 voured, on the other hand, to establish the principle that all 
 depended on the government of the heart and of the affections 
 towards God, not on external things.* We say perhaps — 
 for, from the way in which Tertullian, from his own peculiar 
 position, combated what seem to have been such, we cannot 
 decide with certainty in what sense that principle was under¬ 
 stood. It is certainly possible that there may have been a class 
 who made a false distinction between the Inner and the 
 Outward in the religious life, and, under the pretext that all 
 depended on the inner direction of the affections towards God 
 alone, excused and allowed themselves in all the failings of 
 the outward life.f 6 
 
 Connected with the remarks we have here made on pe¬ 
 nance and absolution must be our judgment also of a contro¬ 
 versy which arose with regard to these matters. Had the 
 notion of absolution been rightly understood as an announce¬ 
 ment' of the divine forgiveness of sin, dependent in every case 
 on repentance and faith, instead of being made into a judicial 
 act of the clergy, a mutual understanding might have been 
 easily brought about in the dispute which we are now 
 about to mention. We allude to the controversy between 
 a milder and a more rigid party on the subject of church 
 penance. 
 
 All were agreed in distinguishing those sins into which all 
 Christians might fall through the sinfulness of their nature 
 and those which, being wholly inconsistent with the character of 
 the regenerate, clealy indicated that the transgressor had again 
 fallen under the bondage of sin,—between peccata venalia and 
 peccata mortalia, or ad mortem. These terms they had 
 derived from the first epistle of St. John. Among sins of the 
 second class the sterner party reckoned, besides the denial of 
 Christianity, deception, theft, incontinence, adulterv, &c.i 
 But the milder party, which gradually became the predomi¬ 
 nant one, maintained that the church was bound to receive 
 
 a, '™ t hu'dam, satis Deum habere, si corde et animo suspiciatur, 
 licet actu minus fiat. De pcenitentia, c. 5. 
 
 t SG S . ah '°, metu et A de Pe’ccare.” So writes Tertullian, who is 
 
 opponents P ° ne t0 diaw unfair inferences from the doctrines of his 
 
 • * Homicidium, idololatria. fraus, negatio, blasphemia, mcechia, et for- 
 mcatio. Tertullian, de pudicitia, c. 19. ’ IOi 
 
 X 2 
 
308 
 
 CHURCH DIVISIONS. 
 
 every fallen member, whatever might have been the sins 
 into which he had falien-to offer to all, on the condition of 
 sincere repentance, the hope of forgiveness ot sms. _ In the 
 hour of death, at least, absolution and the communion must 
 be withheld from none who manifested true repentance, The 
 other party positively refused restoration to church communion 
 to all such as had violated their baptismal vow by sms of the 
 latter class. Such persons, they said, have once and for ever 
 despised the forgiveness of sin obtained for them by Ghnst, 
 and assured to them in baptism. The counsels of the divine 
 -race with regard to such are nowhere revealed to us; the 
 church, therefore, has no warrant for holding out to them the 
 forgiveness of sin. Though the church may exhort them to 
 repent, yet she can promise them nothing as to the issue, since 
 the authority conferred upon her of binding and loosing 
 applies not to their case: she must leave them to the judg¬ 
 ment of God. The one party would not that any limits 
 should be set to God’s mercy to penitents; the other were 
 jealous for the holiness of God, fearing lest a false confidence 
 in the power of priestly absolution should encourage men to 
 feel safe in their sins. 
 
 Church Divisions or Schisms. 
 
 The schisms or divisions in the church, strictly so called, 
 must be distinguished from those which are properly desig¬ 
 nated as heresies. The former were such divisions of the 
 catholic church as, taking their rise from certain outward occa¬ 
 sions, were connected with the constitution or the- discipline 
 of the church ; while the latter were divisions which sprang 
 out of differences and controversies on matters of doctrine. 
 While, therefore, all that we shall have to say of the latter is 
 intimately connected with the genetic development of doctrine, 
 the exposition of the former cannot be separated from the 
 history of the constitution and discipline of the church each 
 serveYto illustrate the other. In a doctrinal point of view 
 the history of divisions is important only so far as it serve, 
 unfold the teaching on the subject of the church, ut 
 development of this doctrine stands closely connected a 0 
 with the history" of the constitution of the church. It seems, 
 therefore, in every view, most consistent to annex the history 
 
C\ TRIAN HIS HISTORY AMD POSITION. 
 
 309 
 
 of schisms in the church with the section which relates that 
 ot its constitution. 
 
 We have, in this period, to notice two remarkable schisms 
 o he church, which are intimately connected with each 
 other, as well in respect to the time of their origin as in 
 respect to the churches and persons who took chief part in 
 lem. In both the monarchical system of episcopacy is seen 
 coming forth victorious from the struggle with presbyterianism; 
 in both Catholicism is seen triumphant over Separatism; and 
 o h divisions conducing to the establishment of the unity of 
 the church. We refer to the schism of Felicissimus and to 
 lat of Novation; the first proceeding out of the church of 
 proconsular Africa, the second out of the church of Rome 
 In the history of the first of these schisms Cyprian of 
 Cai thage appears as the head of one party, and the principal 
 actor in it. Indeed, its origin was immediately connected 
 vith the circumstance of his election to the episcopal dignitv. 
 A bnef sketch, therefore, of Cyprian’s life will greatly facili¬ 
 tate a clear understanding of the whole subject. Cyprian had 
 l emained a heathen until after the prime of life. Bv profes¬ 
 sion he was a rhetorician, if not an advocate,* and in his 
 writings a certain rhetorical cast of style testifies to this ear¬ 
 lier occupation. Even as a heathen he had gained public 
 esteem by the uprightness of his life.t The influence of the 
 presbyter Cascihus, whose name lie afterwards adopted, and 
 who at his death committed his wife and children to Cyprian’s 
 care converted him to the Christian faith. Although, as a 
 heathen, he had, in the common estimation, led a blameless 
 fife yet he judged very differently of himself, as soon as he 
 had learned to contemplate the requisitions of the divine law 
 and to view himself by the light of Christianity. A profound 
 sense of sin, as a power from which, by his own strength, 
 man cannot deliver himself, preceded, in his case also, the 
 experience of that which grace alone is able to effect. It is 
 
 C - o 7) that hC W3S a rhetoric5 ™> there is 
 no good reason tor doubting this account. There is no necessity of sun 
 
 I»s.„s that, what he says (ep. I ad Donatum) respect “ S ,K ° P 2 
 
 P n 1’ thinking of his own calling. and therefore lnd 
 
 before made use of his eloquerfee in such addresses® 
 
 theD^conVoS 1 ' stoMh « f his ^ Ms disciple. 
 
310 
 
 CHURCH DIVISIONS. 
 
 this that Cyprian himself expresses in a letter addressed to 
 his friend Donatus, which was probably written soon after his 
 baptism. The more ardently, therefore, was he now inspired 
 with a flowing enthusiasm to attain to that idea ol the divine 
 life which Christianity had lighted up within his soul. Inter¬ 
 preting the words of our Lord, “ If thou wilt be perfect, go 
 sell that thou hast and give it to the poor,” in conformity with 
 the prevailing views of that period, more after the letter than 
 the spirit, he sold the two landed estates of which he was pos¬ 
 sessed in order to fulfil this requisition,* and distributed the 
 proceeds among the poor. The devout zeal which so brighdy 
 shone forth in him even while a neophyte, gained for him, in 
 a great measure, the love and esteem of the community. He 
 became the man of the people, and the congregations employed 
 the influence which at that time they still possessed in his 
 behalf. Soon after his baptism he was, in 247, contrary to the 
 letter of the law, raised by their votes to the dignity of the 
 priesthood, and as early as the next year placed at the head of the 
 church as bishop. The people surrounded his house in order 
 to compel him to accept the episcopal dignity. But this very 
 circumstance, that he had been raised to this high station by 
 the enthusiastic love of the church, contributed from the first 
 to the formation of a party against him, at the head of which 
 were five priests.f Of these some perhaps had themselves 
 claims to the episcopal office, and consequently regarded with 
 jealous eyes the neophyte who had been promoted over the 
 heads of those who had grown gray in the service of the 
 church. They might also be influenced by other motives 
 now unknown. Cyprian was well aware of the difficulties of 
 the position lie was about to assume. When he shrank from 
 accepting the chief pastoral office, its whole weight and 
 responsibility stood clearly before him—however attractive, 
 on the other hand, it must have appeared to a man of his 
 
 * His garden was probably by the affection of his flock soon restored 
 to him, as we may gather from the language of Pontius : Hortos, quos 
 inter iuitia fidei sum venditos, et Dei indulgentia restitutos. 
 
 f We see this from the words of Pontius, in speaking of Cyprian’s 
 election: Quidam illi restiterunt, etiam ut vinceret; with which com¬ 
 pare ep. 40, respecting the intrigues of the five presbyters: Conjura- 
 tionis suae memores et antiqua ilia contra episcopatum meum imo contra 
 suffragium vestrum et Dei judicium venena retinentes, instaurantveterem. 
 contra nos impugnationem suam. 
 
CYPRIAN. 
 
 311 
 
 peculiar bent and talent for government to be placed at the 
 head of the church. We here discover the first ground and 
 germ of the ensuing controversies. The five presbyters, with 
 their followers, proceeded to contest the episcopal authority 
 of Cyprian ; and as the presbyters were still mindful of their 
 ancient rights, and still strove to maintain their former 
 influence in the government of the church, there could be no * 
 want of disputes between a bishop and his antagonists in the 
 presbyterial college, especially one who, like Cyprian, was so 
 resolutely active in the consciousness of that supreme spiritual 
 power which he believed himself to possess by divine right. 
 
 When men are contending for their rights—even those in 
 whom, though the old nature is not altogether destroyed, the 
 divine life has really begun—it often happens that, instead of 
 vying with each other in the discharge of their duties in the spirit 
 of love and self-denial, passion and self-will make both sides to 
 look upon wrong as right. So was it in the present case. We are 
 not, however, sufficiently well informed of all the circumstances 
 of the case to be able clearly to separate the right from wrong- 
 on either side. For we have nothing to judge from but the 
 statements of one party—statements which occasionally are 
 stamped only too plainly with the impress of passionate warmth. 
 
 An unprejudiced consideration cannot fail to see in Cyprian 
 a man animated with true love to the Redeemer and to His 
 church. It is undeniable that his sentiments towards his 
 flock were those of a faithful pastor; that he had their true 
 interests honestly at heart ; and that it was his wish to 
 exercise his episcopal functions for the maintenance of order 
 and discipline: but it is also certain that he was not suffi¬ 
 ciently on his guard against that radical evil of human nature, 
 which so easily fastens on what is best in man, perverting and 
 even destroying his best qualities,—(an evil which is most 
 dangerous in those especially who ar-e endowed with the 
 greatest gifts and powers for the Lord’s service—most danger¬ 
 ous where it exhibits itself under the spiritual garb,)—in 
 short, that he was not watchful enough against the emotions and 
 suggestions of self-will and pride. The very point he was con¬ 
 tending for, the supremacy of the episcopate, certainly proved 
 the rock whereon at times his spiritual life made shipwreck. 
 
 In the bishop, “ appointed by God himself and acting in the 
 name of Christ,” he forgot the man, still living in the flesh. 
 
312 
 
 CHURCH DIVISIONS. 
 
 and exposed , like all other men, to the temptations of sin. In 
 the bishop, over whom no layman might set up himself to 
 judge—the bishop called to rule and gifted with an inviolable 
 authority from God—he forgot the disciple of Christ, of Him 
 Who was meek and lowly of spirit, and Who, for the good of 
 His brethren , took upon Him the form o f a servant. Had he 
 always remained true to the spirit of discipleship to Christ, 
 he might have gained the victory over his adversaries with 
 far more ease to himself and safety to the church than by all 
 his stir about the inalienable rights of the episcopate, and his 
 appeals to the dignity of the bishop’s office with which God 
 had invested him. 
 
 The five presbyters of the opposite party, or at least some 
 of them, seem to have been at the head of separate churches 
 in Carthage or its neighbourhood ; and they now ventured, 
 in defiance of the bishop whom they hated, to take several 
 independent proceedings in the management of their daughter 
 and subordinate churches ; or, at any rate, such measures as 
 Cyprian, from the principles which lie maintained with regard 
 to the episcopal system, might well consider as infringements 
 of the bishop’s rights. One of them, Novatus by name, pre¬ 
 sident of a community situated upon a hill in or near by Car¬ 
 thage, was, so far as we can judge,* a man of restless and 
 
 * The charges which Cyprian brings against him, (ep. 49,) if well 
 founded, do, indeed, place him in the most unfavourable light; but 
 these charges wear every appearance of being dictated by blind passion, 
 of trusting in deceptive reports without due investigation, and of indulg¬ 
 ing a most unwarrantable liberty in drawing conclusions. A common 
 method in controversies,—to impute the worst motives to an opponent, 
 and suppose them just as true as if one could read into his heart, yet 
 without offering the least evidence to justify the supposition. Novatus, 
 it was said, was on the point of being arraigned before an ecclesiastical 
 court, his own conscience declaring him guilty, when, happily for him, 
 the Decian persecution broke out, and interrupted the proceedings 
 which had been commenced against him. And now, with a view of 
 evading the sentence which awaited him as soon as the persecution 
 should cease, he excited those agitations of which we shall speak here¬ 
 after, and separated himself from the ruling church. How cleverly put 
 together, yet how improbable, is all this ! Cyprian himself, during the 
 Decian persecution, recognised Novatus as a lawful presbyter (see ep. 5) 
 Now for the first time does he know of this man such wicked things 
 as, if they were true, would condemn the bishop who had suffered a 
 person of such a character to retain the office of priest. Cyprian does 
 indeed, bring forward facts, but what vouchers does he adduce for the 
 
NOVATUS. 
 
 313 
 
 enterprising 1 mind, wlio, with a fierce spirit of ecclesiastical 
 freedom, spurned the yoke of episcopal monarchy.*’ Without 
 authority from the bishop, he proceeded to ordain as deacon of 
 his own church one of his followers, Felicissimus, a man well 
 calculated to become an enterprising partizan, and who doubt¬ 
 less personally possessed great influence in the congregation.y 
 Cyprian declares this act an encroachment on his episcopal 
 rights ; but it may have been the opinion of Novatus, on the 
 principles of his presbyterian system, that as a presbyter and 
 presiding officer of the church lie was warranted in what he 
 had done. The right and the wrong in the transaction was a 
 
 truth of those facts? How would it have been possible for this man, ii 
 such accusations could be justly brought against him, to play the part 
 he did? What is there that, amidst party strifes of this kind, idle tattle 
 will not gradually set a going? The opponents of Cyprian too, as we 
 may infer from his letter to Pupianus, of which we shall speak here¬ 
 after, had said many hard things against him. 
 
 * So far there may have been truth in Cyprian’s statement when he 
 calls him (ep. 49) Fax et ignis ad conflanda seditionis incendia. 
 
 In order to a right understanding of Novatus’ conduct in these dis¬ 
 putes, it is important to have the question settled, whether he was one of 
 the live presbyters who opposed Cyprian from the beginning. Mosheim 
 has urged several objections against this supposition, the most weighty 
 of which we shall presently notice. The question, we must admit, is 
 not one which can be decided with absolute certainty. But yet the 
 whole connection of the history seems to be in favour of the affirmative. 
 In Cyprian’s fifth letter, already quoted, the names of four presbyters 
 are given as having brought him a petition. One of these, Fortunatus, 
 belonged, according to Cyprian’s own statement, ep. 55, to the five 
 presbyters. Now, as the name of Novatus occurs here along with that 
 of Fortunatus, it is highly probable that all the four presbyters, who 
 seem in this case to have formed one party, were in fact no other than 
 the old opposition party,—-the five presbyters or presbyterium Felicis- 
 simi. And in the repulsive answer which Cyprian gave to their petition 
 we may perhaps discern a new cause of their irritation against the 
 bishop. A comparison of what Cyprian says respecting the intrigues of 
 Novatus, ep. 49, wfith what he says respecting the intrigues of those five 
 presbyters, ep. 40, and with what Pontius reports about the old adver¬ 
 saries of Cyprian, favours the supposition that there was but one anti- 
 Cyprian faction, which held together from the beginning, and in which 
 Novatus took a prominent part. 
 
 f See Cyprian, ep. 49, of Novatus: Qui Felicissimum satellitem suuin 
 diaconum, nec permittente me nec sciente, sua factione et ambition?, 
 constituit. All goes to show that this nomination of Felicissimus to the 
 office of deacon preceded the schism of which he was the author; 
 although, from our imperfect knowledge of the circumstances, the whole 
 matter is involved in much obscurity. 
 
314 
 
 CHURCH DIVISIONS. 
 
 point certainly not so clearly made out, at a time when the 
 struggle between the aristocratic and monarchical principles 
 of church government was as yet undecided. Cyprian per- 
 a mitted Felicissimus to retain his office ; whether it was out of 
 deference to a powerful party, or whether it was that sub¬ 
 sequently the hostile proceedings of Felicissimus forced him 
 to declare his ordination irregular and a violation of the epis¬ 
 copal authority. In the outset it would seem he avoided all 
 violent measures; by indulgence and gentleness, and with 
 a prudence befitting the circumstances, he sought to gain over 
 his opponents.* Perhaps he might have succeeded, if only 
 he had exercised sufficient self-control to follow out this 
 course with patience; or if the Decian persecution, which 
 broke out soon after, had not furnished the opposite party too 
 inviting an opportunity to commence a public attack on the 
 man whom from the very first they had unwillingly seen 
 placed at the head of the church. 
 
 We have already observed that at the commencement of 
 this persecution Cyprian withdrew for a while from his church. 
 He had, as we then saw, good reasons, indeed, to justify this 
 step; and the best of all justifications was his subsequent 
 martyrdom. Still it was a step which would admit of being 
 differently interpreted. His enemies were glad to look upon 
 the thing in its w : orst light, and accused him of allowing 
 a himself to be influenced by cowardice to desert his pastoral 
 duties, f 
 
 Besides this, the party opposed to Cyprian had many oppor¬ 
 tunities, arising out of the persecution, to increase the number 
 
 * To this doubtless refers what Pontius says of Cyprian’s conduct 
 towards his opponents : Quibus tamen quanta levitate, quam patienter, 
 quam benevolenter indulsit, quam clementer ignovit, amicissimos eos 
 postmodum inter et necessarios computans, mirantibus multis ! 
 
 f We remarked at page 185 that the Roman clergy expressed them¬ 
 selves but doubtfully with regard to Cyprian’s conduct; their words, 
 “ quod utique rectefecerit,” indicate that his enemies had contrived to 
 represent the matter in an unfavourable light. Hence Cyprian intimated 
 a suspicion that the letter in which passages occurred which were so 
 strange to him might be a forgery (ep. 3). Afterwards, when he learned 
 that his adversaries had represented his conduct in an unfavourable 
 light at Rome, he considered it necessary to justify himself by a correct 
 account of the whole course of the affair, and he writes thus to the 
 Roman clergy (ep. 14): Quoniam comperi, minus simpliciter et minus 
 Hdeliter vobis renuntiari, qute hie a nobis et gesta sunt et geruntur. 
 
SCHISM OF FBLICISSIMUS. 
 
 31 o 
 
 of their followers, and to excite men’s minds against the 
 bishop. During the persecution, many who, either from fear 
 or violence, had been driven to violate the duties of confessors . 
 of the faith, had been excluded from the communion of the 
 church. Most of these, however, were afterwards seized with 
 compunctions of remorse, and longed to be restored to the 
 fellowship of the brethren, and to the privilege of partaking 
 of the Lord’s supper. The question now arose, Ought their 
 wishes to be forthwith complied with ?—or is their petition ab¬ 
 solutely to be rejected?—or shall a middle course be followed, by 
 holding out to them the hope, indeed, of being restored to the 
 fellowship of the church, but still subjecting their conduct to a 
 longer probation, and requiring evidence of continued contri¬ 
 tion, before they should be again thought worthy of that great 
 privilege ? Is the same course to be pursued with all the 
 lapsed, or ought their treatment to vary according to the circum¬ 
 stances and enormity of their offences ? At this date the church 
 was without any generally admitted principles of penance 
 m such cases. One party, as we have lately observed, refused 
 to grant absolution, on any conditions, to such as had violated - 
 their baptismal vow by one of what they designated as mortal 
 sins. In accordance with that Jewish principle, which appa¬ 
 rently did not regard all duties alike as duties (o God, and all 
 sins alike as sins against God , an arbitrary distinction was 
 made—in support of which appeal was made to 1 Samuel ii. 
 
 between sins against God and against man. In the 
 former class W'as reckoned every act of denying the faith, 
 though, as in the case where the denial w'as simply the con¬ 
 sequence of weakness of sense, the degree of guilt might be 
 far less that that involved in some of the so-called sins against 
 man. Cyprian, who was in the habit of calling Tertullian 
 especially his teacher,* might, perhaps, from the study of that 
 father s writings, have received a bias towards the principles 
 of the more rigid party with regard to penance. Many 
 passages of his works, written previous to the Decian persecu¬ 
 tion, would lead us to conclude that he had formerly held the 
 principle that absolution should be granted to none who had 
 committed a mortal sin. Thus, for instance, he says, j - “ The 
 
 According to Jerome, de vir. illustr. When Cyprian asked for 
 Tertullian s works, he used to say to his secretary, “ Da magistrum/’ 
 f De habitu virginum. 
 
316 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 words of the Lord, who warns while he heals, are ‘ Behold, 
 thou art made whole; sin no more, lest a worst thing- come 
 unto thee.’ After he has bestowed health he gives the nde of 
 life ; nor does he allow men afterwards to run about unbridled, 
 but, as the man was bound to serve him by the very fact that 
 he had been healed by him, our Lord threatens him with 
 the greater severity; for the guilt is less to have sinned before 
 one has known the doctrines of the Lord, but token one sins 
 after he has begun to know them there is no place for forgive¬ 
 ness."* * * § It may be said, perhaps, that in this case Cyprian 
 meant simply to mark the greater criminality of a sin com¬ 
 mitted by a Christian, and that the passage is to be under¬ 
 stood only in a relative sense; but assuredly more than this is 
 implied in one of the positions laid down by him in his collec¬ 
 tion of Biblical Testimonies')-—That to him who has sinned 
 against God no forgiveness can be granted in the church.”J 
 Besides the passages already cited from the Old Testament,§ 
 he quotes on this occasion that from the gospel relating to the 
 sin against the Son of man and against the Holy Ghost, 
 in such a manner as to make it plain how greatly he misunder¬ 
 stood these conceptions and this antithesis. 
 
 But if Cyprian, when he first entered on the episcopal office, 
 was an advocate of this principle, yet, regarding his church as 
 he did with a most fatherly heart, he could not but be shaken 
 by the great multitude of the lapsed, who entreated him, some- 
 tunes with bitter tears of repentance, to grant them absolution. 
 Were all these—many of whom, as, for example, the libellatici, 
 had only fallen from lack of knowledge, and others from the 
 weakness of the flesh under the severity of torture—to remain 
 for ever excluded from the blessed communion of the brethren, 
 and, in Cyprian’s view, from that church in which alone lay 
 the way to heaven ? The paternal heart of the bishop 
 revolted at the thought, but he dared not act here upon his 
 own responsibility. In this state of indecision he gave it 
 
 * Nulla venia ultra delinquere, postquam Deum nosse ccepisti. 
 
 f De testimoniis, 1. III. c. 28. 
 
 j Non posse in ecclesia remitti ei, qui in Deum deliquit. 
 
 § The same texts which Cyprian quotes in the epistle to the clergy of 
 Carthage, ep. 9, on the subject of denial of the faith under persecution. 
 So also in ep. 11 we find the antithesis: Minora delicta, qiue non in 
 Deum committuntur. 
 
FELICISSIMUS. 
 
 317 
 
 as his opinion that the fallen were not to be shunned, but 
 exhorted to repentance; though the final decision on their 
 case must be reserved to the time when, on the restoration of * 
 tranquillity, the bishops, clergy, and churches, in common and 
 calm deliberation, should, after examining the question in all 
 its bearings, be able to agree upon some general principles 
 with regard to a matter which so deeply concerned every 
 Christian. Besides, there was a great variety in the offences 
 of the fallen brethren. Some, merely to avoid the sacrifice of 
 their worldly possessions, had without a struggle hastened 
 even to the altars of the gods ; while others had fallen through 
 ignorance or under the force of torture. The disorders °of 
 the times made it impossible to examine carefully into the 
 several offences and the difference of moral character in indi¬ 
 viduals. Moreover, those that had fallen must in the mean 
 time, by giving practical proof of their penitence, render 
 themselves worthy of re-admission to the communion of the 
 church,—and the persecution itself presented them with the 
 best opportunity for this. “ He,” says Cyprian, “ who cannot 
 endure the delay may obtain the crown of martyrdom.” 
 
 It was under this view of the case that Cyprian acted. 
 
 He directed all the lapsed who applied for absolution to look 
 forward with hope to the restoration of tranquillity, when their 
 cases should be examined. But some of the clergy, and, as 
 Cyprian afterwards learned, his old adversaries, espoused the 
 cause of these men, and, instead of exhorting them to peace 
 and submission, in obedience to the wishes of the bishop, they 
 encouraged them in their importunate demands, availing them¬ 
 selves of this opportunity to foment the wished-for division 
 in the church. 
 
 Had, however, the lapsed been upheld in their importunate 
 demands by none but the presbyters opposed to Cyprian, their 
 opposition to the measures of the bishop would have been less 
 fruitful in consequences. But they found means to gain over 
 to their cause a voice which in those days had great influence 
 with the Christians,—the voice of those confessors of the „ 
 faith who had given their testimony of the Lord under the 
 pains of torture, or who, after having given it, went to con¬ 
 front martyrdom. It was altogether consonant with the 
 spirit of Christianity that the last legacy of such men 
 should be a legacy of love; that their last words should be 
 
318 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 tvords of love to their brethren; that they who, having 
 victoriously sustained the conflict, were about to enter into 
 glory, should show sympathy for their weaker brethren, who 
 had fallen in the struggle ; that, finally, they should recommend 
 the lapsed, or fallen, to the charitable consideration of the 
 church. It was just and right, moreover, that the word of 
 these witnesses of the faith should be held in peculiar respect, 
 provided only it were not forgotten that they too, like all 
 others, were sinful men, needing the forgiveness of their sins, 
 and that they, so long as they were in the flesh, had also to 
 maintain the struggle with the flesh; and provided only, these 
 witnesses of the faith themselves did not forget this, and, 
 undazzled by the excessive veneration which was paid them, 
 had still remembered that it only exposed them the more to 
 the lurking enemy with which even they, as sinful men, had 
 still to contend, and so did not turn the momentary victory 
 which, by the grace of God, they had gained, to the nourish¬ 
 ment of a spiritual pride. Many yielded to this temptation ; 
 and controversies were excited and nourished by such con¬ 
 fessors. The poet Commodian, so distinguished for his moral 
 enthusiasm, thought it necessary to remind such persons that 
 even by their sufferings they could not expiate sin.’’ There 
 were confessors who, in an authoritative tone, conferred on all 
 who sued to them for it the peace of the church, and acted as 
 if nothing was needed but their voice for the absolution of the 
 fallen. Many of the clergy, who, as Cyprian exhorted them, 
 ought to have" set them right and to have led them to humility, 
 rather confirmed them in their delusion, using them as tools 
 in their machinations against the bishop. The bishops were 
 often placed in no slight embarrassments by their peremptory 
 declarations, which were often very vaguely expressed, like 
 the following: “Let such an one, together with his ,”—an 
 expression admitting of interpretations and applications with¬ 
 out limit,—“ be received into the communion of the church.” f 
 
 * See his Instructio, 47:— 
 
 Impia martvribus odio reputantur in ignem, 
 
 Distruitur martyr, cujus est confeasio talis, 
 
 Expiari malum nec sanguine fuso docetur. 
 
 t Communicet ille cum suis. According to Cyprian, ep. 14, thousands 
 of such “libelli pacis ” were daily given by the confessors without exa¬ 
 mination. Tertullian, as early as the close of the second century, speaks 
 of this practice as a traditional one. “ Pacem in ecclesia non habentes, a 
 
FEL1CISSLMUS. 
 
 319 
 
 Those who applied tliese indefinite declarations to themselves 
 now boasted that the confessors or marlyrs had granted them ■ 
 absolution, and they would hear of no delay, submit to no 
 trial of their conduct. Since Cyprian was the less willinrr to 
 comply with their importunate demands the less they evinced 
 of true contrition and humility, he rendered himself extremely 
 unpopular by his resistance. In two respects he appeared in 
 an unfavouiable light: he was disliked both for his severity * 
 to the lapsed and his lack of reverence for the confessors.* 
 Cyprian fulfilled his duty as a pastor when he firmly and 
 energetically opposed the exaggerated reverence paid to these 
 confessors (which was likely to become a fruitful source of 
 superstition), as well as the false confidence in their inter¬ 
 cession, which might mislead men to feel secure in their sins 
 He called the attention of the confessors to the truth, that true 
 confession is not an opus operatum , but that it must consist in 
 the whole course of the life and conduct. “ The tono-ue ” 
 he said, “which has confessed Christ, must be preserved pure 
 and undefiled in its dignity; for lie who, according to our 
 oid s precept, speaks what tends to peace, to goodness, and 
 to truth, confesses Christ daily.” In warning them against 
 false security and pride, he observes,! “ It must be your en¬ 
 deavour that what you have happily begun may be perfected 
 in you. It is but little to have been able to obtain; it is more 
 to be able to preserve what you have obtained. Our Lord 
 taught us this when he said, ‘ Behold, thou art made whole • 
 sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee.’ So also 
 think thou that He says to a confessor, ‘Behold, thou art 
 made a confessor; sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto 
 thee' In fine, Solomon and Saul and many others were 
 able, so long as they walked in the ways of the Lord to 
 
 martyribus in carcere exorare consueverunt.” Ad martyr, c. 1. As a 
 Montamst he speaks warmly against the excessive abuse to which this 
 practice had been carried; and intimates that many were made to feel 
 secure in their sin by these libelli pads, so inconsiderately bestowed 
 by the confessors (de pudicitia, c. 22). Against the abuses which grew 
 out of these recommendatory letters of the confessors, whether spurious 
 or genuine, the council of Elvira speaks on this wise, c. 25: Quod ornnes 
 sub hac nonnnis gloria passim concutiunt simplices. 
 
 ..." He ln ™ self gwes us to understand how much he had to suffer on 
 this account, ep. 22 : Laborantes hie nos et contra invidiai impetum totis 
 ndei vine us resistentes. f Ep 6 
 
320 
 
 SCIIISM OF 
 
 letain the grace which was given them; as soon as the fear of 
 the Lord departed from them, Iiis grace also left. them. I 
 hear that some are elated with pride; and yet it is written, 
 
 < L e n ot high-minded, but fear.’—Rom. ix. 20. Our Lord 
 
 < was led as a sheep to the slaughter; as a lamb before her 
 shearers is dumb, so opened he not his mouth; ’ and dares 
 any one now, who lives by Him and in Him, to be pioud anil 
 hGh-minded, forgetful of the life which He led, and of the 
 doctrines which He has given us either by Himself or by His 
 apostles? If the servant be not greater than his Lord, then 
 let those that follow the Lord walk humbly, peaceably, and 
 quietly in His footsteps : the more one humbleth himself, the 
 
 more shall he be exalted. _ . 
 
 When a certain confessor, Lucian, £: in the name of I aul, 
 a martyr” fin obedience to whose last injunctions he professed 
 to be acting), bestowed the peace of the church on the fallen 
 brethren, and gave them the so-called certificates of church- 
 fellowship (libellos pacis), Cyprian refused to acknowledge 
 their validity, and observed, “ Although our Lord has com¬ 
 manded that ail nations should be baptized and receive forgive¬ 
 ness of their sins in the name of the I ather, the Son, and the 
 Holy Ghost, yet this man, in ignorance of the divine law, 
 proclaims peace and remisssion of sins in the name of Paul;— 
 he does not consider that the martyrs make not the gospel, 
 but the gospel the martyrs.” * To the same purpose did he 
 express himself in the discourse already referred to, delivered 
 on his return to his church-t “ Let no man deceive himself, 
 the Lord alone can show mercy. He alone can pardon the sins 
 which are committed against Himself who bore our sins; who 
 suffered for us; and whom God delivered up for our offences. 
 The servant may not forgive the sin that has been committed 
 against his Master, lest the offender contract additional guilt 
 by being unmindful of what is written, ‘ Cursed is he that 
 putteth°his trust in man.’—Jer. xvii. 5. We must pray, to 
 the Lord, who has said that he will deny those that deny him, 
 who alone has received all judgment from the Father. Do 
 the martyrs wish anything ?—what they wish must be written 
 in the law of the Lord ;—we must know, first of all, that they 
 
 * Quod non martyres evangelium faciant, sed per evangeliummartyres 
 Cant. Ep. 22. t Sermo de lapsis. 
 
FELICIS3IMUS. 
 
 321 
 
 have obtained from God what they wish , and then only can 
 roe do what they require; for it by no means follows, as a 
 matter of course, that the Divine Majesty will grant what a 
 man has promised. Either then the martyrs are nothin**, if 
 the gospel can be made void ; or if the gospel cannot be made 
 void, then they have no authority to act against the gospel 
 who by its means become martyrs. That man can neither 
 say nor do anything against Christ, whose faith and hope 
 whose power and glory are nowhere hut in Christ 
 . Cyprian, however, was not sufficiently firm and consistent 
 in Ins opposition to the extravagant honour which was paid to 
 the martyrs and confessors. He was himself, in a decree 
 carried away by the spirit which prevailed among the multi- 
 tude, and which he ought to have controlled and guided by the 
 spirit of the gospel. When the summer heats of an African 
 climate produced many cases of sickness, he yielded so far as 
 grant absolution to those of the lapsed who in sickness and 
 the fear of death desired the communion, and supported their 
 by such certificates given them by confessors to the 
 faith. In Ins report to the Homan church he assigns, as his 
 reason for so doing, his wish, by a compliance in this particular 
 to assuage, in some measure, the violence of the multitude’ 
 and so to counteract the machinations of those who were at 
 the bottom of the mischief, and to relieve himself from the 
 obloquy of refusing to the martyrs due honour and respect.t 
 1 ms, by his half-resistance to the violence of this erroneous 
 tendency, and by his inconsistency, Cyprian did injury both 
 to the interests of Christian truth and to his own cause. If 
 on the one hand, he combated a false confidence in the martyrs’ 
 intercession with the weapons of truth, on the other liand^ he 
 supported it by his compromise; for must not the recom¬ 
 mendation of a martyr have become invested with a peculiar 
 value and influence as soon as it was understood that all who 
 v ere supported by such a testimonial might in the hour of 
 death, simply on the strength of this recommendation , obtain 
 
 * Cyprian, ep. 12, 13 , et 14 . 
 
 dam — ’ cnm „ii d i l0r T y iolentlam mterim quoquo genere mitigan- 
 
 omuiaturW J \ h ° U01 ' mart >’ ribus habendus, et eorum qui 
 
 omnia turbaic cupiebant, impetus comprimendus.” Of the other lansi 
 
 accenm ■ COn T ary V hU Sa ^’. e P- 1 3-“ Q“ nullo libello a martyribS 
 accepto invidiam faciunt: it was therefore this invidia which he feared 
 VOL. I. 
 
322 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 the peace of the church and receive the communion, while 
 many who had not sought such a recommendation must still 
 be deprived of these comforts, even though, as it might easily 
 happen, they were distinguished above those who had secured 
 it by the sincerity of their contrition and penitence? * Such 
 a conclusion, which his conduct naturally encouraged, Cyprian 
 further favoured by his very language in making this conces¬ 
 sion, addressing it “ to those who, by help of the martyrs, 
 obtain succour from the Lord in their sins.” J By this incon¬ 
 sistency he laid open to his enemies a weak spot, of which 
 they would not fail to take advantage. 
 
 Another circumstance which must have particularly strength. 
 ened the opposite party in their support of the lapsed was the 
 powerful voice of the Roman church, which had declared 
 itself in favour of the milder principle ; not indeed in every 
 case, but at all events in that of the sick. Cyprian also avowed 
 that, in making his concession, he was partly influenced by 
 his respect for the Roman church, with which he had no wish 
 unnecessarily to be at variance.^ But the latter church would 
 have acted more consonantly with the spirit of evangelical 
 truth had it directed the fallen to the one and only Mediator, 
 and had it recognised no other distinction among them but 
 that of a penitent or impenitent disposition^ In the first 
 letter that it addressed to the clergy of Cartilage, the Roman 
 church had said of the lapsed—“ We have, indeed, separated 
 them from us, yet we have not left them to themselves; we 
 have exhorted them, and do still exhort them, to repent, if 
 Imply they may obtain pardon from Him who alone can grant 
 it. We do this that they may not, being deserted by us, 
 become worse. If such persons are attacked by sickness, 
 become penitent for their offences, and anxiously desire the 
 communion, they should by all means be assisted. 
 
 Yet, by Christian prudence in the rest of his conduct; by 
 contriving to unite mildness with energy; by his instructions, 
 and his friendly, paternal representations, whereby he won 
 over the better disposed among the confessors ; by the firm- 
 
 * See note t, preceding page. 
 
 Auxilio eorum adjuvari apud Dominum in delictis suis possunt. 
 
 j p; p . 14 ; to the Roman clergy. Standum putavi et cum vestra sen- 
 tentia, ne actus noster, qui adunatus esse et consentire circa omnia 
 debet, in aliquo discreparet. § Ep. 2. 
 
FELICISSIMUS. 
 
 323 
 
 ness with which he withstood the obstinate opposition of the 
 presbyters; by the love and esteem in which he was held by the 
 majority of the church ; Cyprian seemed to have succeeded in 
 restoring- tranquillity to Carthage, and he was rejoicing in the * 
 hope, as the fury of the Decian persecution began to abate of 
 returning to the church from which he had'been painfully 
 separated for a whole year, and of celebrating with its flock 
 the Easter feast, a.d. 251. But ere his hopes could be realized 
 he had to learn that the intrigues of his opponents were too 
 deeply laid, and too closely and firmly interwoven to be so 
 easily confounded. The fire which was smouldering in secret 
 only wanted an opportunity to break forth into an open flame 
 Tins occasion Cyprian himself furnished by the exercise of his 
 episcopal authority in an important matter. 
 
 Before his return to Carthage he had sent two bishops and 
 two presbyters as his deputies, with full powers to hold a * 
 visitation. To such of the poor as from age or sickness could 
 do nothing for their own support, they were to assign so much 
 out oi the church chest as might be necessary for the supply 
 of their bodily wants. To those who, having a trade, were 
 unable to gam from it enough for their subsistence, or who 
 wanted money to purchase the tools and stock necessary for 
 carrying on their avocations, or who, having been ruined in 
 their business by the persecution, now wished to commence it 
 again, they were to make such grants as might appear advisable 
 in the several cases. Finally, they were to draw up a list of all 
 the poor who were to be supported out of the church funds " 
 distinguishing their ages and their behaviour during the perse¬ 
 cution, in order that the bishop, whose care it was to make him¬ 
 self accurately acquainted with all their circumstances, might 
 promote the worthy, and, as in this case was particularly speci¬ 
 fied, the meek and the humble , to such offices in the church as 
 they might be qualified to fill. The latter regulation secured 
 this advantage,—such persons would, according to their abili¬ 
 ties, be suitably employed in the service of the church, so as 
 to secure for themselves an adequate support, while at the 
 same time a burden would be removed from the church funds. 
 
 The qualifications of meekness and humility , to which parti¬ 
 cular attention was to be directed, were peculiarly necessary 
 in those who entered into the service of the church during 
 such a period of ferment and disturbance, if peace was to be 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 restored to it on a solid foundation and the first germs of divi¬ 
 sion suppressed. The presbyterian party opposed to Cyprian 
 may not have admitted the bishop’s right to hold such a visitation, 
 or to make such a distribution of the church funds on his own 
 responsibility and without the concurrence of the presbyterial 
 college; or at least they may have disputed the right in 
 Cyprian , since they were unwilling to own him any longer as 
 their bishop. At any rate it would be quite contrary to their 
 plans to allow him to carry out such an act of episcopal juris¬ 
 diction ; for it must tend to confirm his authority, to bind 
 the church more closely to him, and thereby to strengthen his 
 party. At the head of the opposition in this instance was the 
 deacon Felicissimus. His official character alone would give 
 him considerable influence with a portion of his congregation, 
 for in the church of North Africa as well as in that of Spain, 
 which so closely resembled it in many things,* the deacons had 
 more power than they possessed in other countries. More¬ 
 over, from circumstances with which we are but imperfectly 
 acquainted, he had become an influential organ of his party. 
 Perhaps, too, as a portion of the church funds was intrusted 
 to his care,j lie may have thought himself especially called 
 
 * Condi. Illiberit. c. 77: Diaconus regens plebem. 
 
 f That in the North African church it belonged to the deacons to 
 keep and manage the church funds we learn from the 49th letter of 
 Cvprian, where ecclesiastical pecunim saerilega fraude substractae et 
 viduarum ac pupillorum deposita denegata is brought as a charge 
 against a deacon. And this was the case not only in North Africa, but 
 also in the churches of quite an opposite quarter of the world; as we 
 learn from Origen’s complaints against those deacons who enriched 
 themselves at the expense of the church (in Matth. T. XVI. c. 22) : 0< pin 
 xaXu; haxoroi Iioixovvtis ra rns txxXnaia; °.XX olU ravra, 
 
 '^nXa.tpuv'Tls, oil xaXus St aura, olxovofioviri;, aXXtt au^ivovn; rov vopify/tivov 
 srXourc* xai ygn/aara., "it a arXovrua iv a.oro rut ils Xoyot dido/xitut, 
 
 ,urm ii ait at xoXXufh'iarai roariZa; yor,u,druv iyovny as xurlargi^iv o 
 
 ’itirou;. It is with reference to this fact that Felicissimus is accused of 
 “ fraudes ” and “ rapinse,” ep. 55. Pecuniae commissm sibi fraudator. 
 Similar charges where brought against Novatus, the presbyter aud pre¬ 
 siding officer of the church in which Felicissimus was deacon. True, these 
 accusations, as coming from the mouth of their enemy Cyprian, cannot be 
 considered as irrefragable testimony against them. An independent 
 application of that portion of the church funds which was deposited in 
 this daughter-church,—an application of them which, with the views 
 they entertained of their relation to the bishop, they may have thought 
 themselves warranted to make,—an application suited perhaps to the 
 objects and ends of their party,—may, by Cyprian, have been regarded as 
 
 
FELICISSIMUS. 
 
 325 
 
 upon to put in his word on a matter that concerned the appli¬ 
 cation of the money of the church. Accordingly Felicissimua 
 employed all his arts of persuasion, his influence arid power 
 o excite a general and determined spirit of opposition to this 
 episcopal ordinance. In particular, to the poor of the church 
 o -Novatus, over which he had been made deacon, he declared 
 that he would contrive means of providing without fail for all 
 their wants, and threatened, if they appeared before these 
 episcopal commissioners, never again to admit them to the 
 communion in his church.* This church now became the 
 general resort of all the lapsed who were unwilling to wait 
 with patience the decision of the whole matter. Here, without 
 any previous preparation, they were at once admitted to the 
 communion—here was the rallying point of all the disaffected; a 
 circumstance which must have been attended with the most pre¬ 
 judicial effects on the discipline and order of the whole church. 
 
 i At al • Cveilts ’ the want of an impartial statement of 
 eithcr way ' kaVeS U lmp ° SSible t0 make au 3' confident assertion 
 
 * Everything here depends on the correct reading and interpre- 
 t tion of those difficult words in Cyprian, ep. 38: “ comminatus quod 
 secum m morte, or “ in monte non communicarent qui nobis obtempe- 
 Str™ If -e take the reading “ in morte,” then the meaning 
 might be two-fold. By referring the phrase “ in morte ” to Felicissimus 
 
 them l m rn - r ean , that , at his 0wn death he would not acknowledge 
 cWh ill? w an , bretI \ ren “would pronounce them excluded from 
 church fellowship,—,n other words, would never be reconciled to them. 
 
 k„ " C ff,’ h ° We y er ’ J* Y° uld be difficult t0 see how a threat of this 
 kind could be so dreadful a thing to the Christians at Carthage If 
 
 referred' t oVe ?°v cou * tr . uction - the phrase “in morte” be 
 
 tb ® subject understood in “communicarent,” the meaning 
 
 that , tbe >’’ at their death, should not be admitted by him to the 
 fellowship of the church,-should not receive from him as deacon 
 
 LOTTs^ner W Tb t0 lT Vey the col,sfccrated elements to the sick, the 
 in mind hut P«r T - he - a ’ mt erpretation gives a good sense, if we bear 
 that 1C1SS,mUS WaS de \ C T 0n of a Particular parish church, and 
 
 I ; 1 , agreement with Novatus, the priest and pastor of this 
 
 who dwelt in^r ‘e , ns P° wer t0 refuse the communion to those 
 
 read;^ hlS + pai ? ° f , tlle d,ocese - An analogous sense results if the 
 oontreLf tG be ado P ted - In this case we must suppose that the 
 congregation over which Novatus and Felicissimus were placed resided 
 
 Montenscs^b^ri 111 ° r near by Carthage; and this brings to mind the 
 of assemW * *?° natlsts at Rome, who vyere so called from their place 
 exclude thnc’n”ti 'V WaS .® ltaat yd on a hill. Felicissimus threatened to 
 
 mS “to ctorch mP ' ,Uh “‘ e of C ™ ri “ f '°“ 
 
326 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 It was these troubles which induced Cyprian to defer his 
 return to Carthage until after the Easter of 251. He chose 
 this particular moment because he could reckon on the other 
 bishops of North Africa being by that time assembled there 
 for the annual synod. This would secure to him two advan¬ 
 tages : united with the whole body of his North African 
 colleagues, he would be able to make a firm stand against the 
 refractory, and by the synod adopting, after mature delibe¬ 
 ration, certain settled principles for the treatment of the 
 lapsed, he might hope that a limit would be set to the hitherto 
 waverin' 1- practice of the North African church in the matter 
 of penance. In this council of the North African church it 
 was resolved to adopt a middle course between the excessive 
 severity which cut off the lapsed from all hope, and the oppo¬ 
 site extreme of a lax indulgence ; to uphold the discipline of 
 the church, and yet not to drive the fallen to despair by 
 refusing to them unconditionally and for ever absolution and 
 readmission to the communion of the church, since this might 
 drive them at length to abandon themselves to their lusts, or 
 to sink back again into heathenism. First of all, the different 
 circumstances of their offences were to be carefully investi¬ 
 gated,* and, in cases of mortal sickness at least, the com¬ 
 munion was to be administered, the saerijicati even not being 
 excepted, if by their conduct they had evinced the truth of 
 their penitence. Should such persons recover they were not 
 to be deprived of the privilege they had obtained by the grace 
 of God, but were to remain in the fellowship of the church, j 
 Afterwards, when the persecution was renewed with increased 
 violence, a further indulgence, prompted by Christian charity 
 and wisdom, was conceded. The communion was to be 
 granted to all who had given evidence by their conduct of true 
 penitence; and the intention of this indulgence was that they 
 should not enter the conflict unarmed, but rather strengthened 
 by having partaken of the Lord’s body.l They, on the other 
 hand, who had not given the least evidence of repentance in any 
 of then* actions, and never expressed a desire for the communion 
 till they came to lie on the sick-bed, should not then receive 
 
 * The different degree of guilt in the sacrificed, according to the 
 different ways in which they had been induced to renounce the faith; 
 and so also in the libellatici. 
 
 f Ep. 52. X E P- 54 * 
 
FELICISSIMUS. 
 
 327 
 
 it, since it was evidently not sorrow for sin, but the warning 
 of approaching death, that had prompted the wish, and he was 
 not worthy of receiving consolation in death who had never 
 thought of death till it is close at hand. In these regulations 
 we clearly recognise a truly Christian endeavour to call men’s 
 attention to the essence of true repentance, and to warn them 
 against the error of reposing a false confidence on the opus 
 operatum of absolution and the communion.* But by this 
 purely Christian anxiety the synod, we see, allowed itself to 
 be misled into pronouncing a sentence, in its general form 
 harsh and indiscriminate, against those whose first si<ms of 
 repentance were made at the hour of death ; for although, in 
 most cases, such repentance might be false, resulting^ from 
 mere sensuous impressions, yet in some, known only to the 
 Omniscient, it might also be true. And it is clear that the 
 synod, without resorting to this unwarrantable decision, might 
 have secured its object by a more correct and clearer exposi¬ 
 tion of the nature of absolution in relation to the forgiveness 
 of sin. At this synod sentence of condemnation was passed on 
 the party of Felicissimus; and thus, by the support of the 
 bishops of North Africa, Cyprian succeeded in putting an end 
 to the schism. 
 
 The party, it is true, did not at once give up their opposi¬ 
 tion. They sought to gain adherents in this part also of the 
 church; and they were joined by several of the African 
 bishops, who were at variance with their other colleagues, or 
 who had been deposed for their bad conduct. They chose 
 Fortunatus, one of the five refractory presbyters, as bishop of ' 
 Carthage, in the place of Cyprian. Sending deputies to 
 Borne for the purpose of gaining to their side this principal 
 church of the West, they demanded a hearing for the charges 
 which they had to bring against Cyprian; but although by 
 their clamours they excited a momentary sensation, they were 
 unable to dissolve the bond of friendship existing between the 
 two most influential bishops of the West. In a letter which 
 expresses in a remarkable manner the Jewish-Christian notion 
 of the church theocracy administered by the priesthood,! 
 Cyprian urged the Roman bishop to defend against the schis¬ 
 matics the unity of the church as founded on the union of the 
 bishops. In the same letter however he strenuously contends 
 * Ep. 52. f Ep, 55 a d Cornel. 
 
328 
 
 cyprian’s correspondence 
 
 for the independence of the bishops in their own dioceses. 
 “ Since it has been decided by us all,” he writes, “ and is, 
 moreover, just and right, that every man’s cause should be 
 examined into on the spot where the wrong was done, and 
 since to every pastor his own part of the flock has been 
 allotted, which he is to guide and govern as one who must 
 render to the Lord an account of his stewardship, those who 
 are under our jurisdiction ought not to run about, and by 
 their deceptive arts and effrontery to disturb the harmony of 
 the united bishops, but they should be obliged to prosecute 
 their cause where the accusers can be confronted with the 
 accused.” 
 
 It is clear, we think, even from this statement of the case, 
 which is drawn from the reports of one party only in the dis¬ 
 pute, that Cyprian’s conduct in this controversy was not 
 wholly free from reproach; and we should, perhaps, find still 
 more to censure were we able to compare the charges and 
 recriminations of both parties. In this respect particular 
 notice is due to a letter of Cyprian,* addressed to one of his 
 opponents, Florentius Pupianus, who, having maintained a 
 good confession under the pains of torture, enjoyed high con¬ 
 sideration as a martyr; for as this letter is in answer to 
 another, we may gather from it what Pupianus had to object 
 against Cyprian. Although not free from that error of the 
 separatist tendency which attaches undue importance to sub¬ 
 jective views and feelings, as is evident from the way in which 
 he speaks of all Cyprian’s supporters as polluted and contami¬ 
 nated, he nevertheless appears to have been a pious well- 
 meaning man, who was certainly not indisposed to listen to 
 reason. Having referred to many charges against Cyprian, 
 of which we possess no distinct information, he asserted that 
 he felt a scruple which must be removed before he could hold 
 communion with him as a bishop.j He reminds him that 
 priests should be humble, as even our Lord and his apostles 
 w r ere humble.| 
 
 Cyprian, by virtue of a mental temperament not uncommon 
 * Ep- G9 - . ... , . 
 
 t This we gather from Cyprian’s answer: Dixisti, scrupulum tibi 
 esse tolleDdum de animo, in quern incidisti. _ . . 
 
 + Sacerdotes humiles esse debere, quia et Dominus et Apostoli ejus 
 humiles fuerunt. 
 
WITH PUPIANUS. 
 
 329 
 
 m North Africa, was inclined to lay too great stress on unusual 
 psychological phenomena, on presentiments, visions, and 
 dreams, and thus, by confounding the natural with the divine 
 was exposed to many delusions. When lie ought to have main¬ 
 tained his positions on rational grounds, he perhaps insisted 
 on the voice of the Spirit, which, on such occasions, he seemed 
 to hear; but Pupian disdained these evidences.* 
 
 Cyprian s reply to this person was certainly not calculated 
 to remove lus scruples. Without entering into the matter of 
 his opponent s charges, Cyprian does nothing but insist on the 
 inviolable authority of the bishop ordained of God, and de¬ 
 clares it impiety for any man to set up himself as a judge over 
 the judicium Dei et Christi. He maintains that, as the bishop 
 stands in communion with the whole church, so the church « 
 rests on the bishop; and whoever separates from the bishop 
 separates from the church.f Iiis hierarchical assumption 
 tilled him with dreams and visions, which he pronounced 
 divine revelations. Thus he declared that he had heard a 
 tivme voice, saying, “He that believes not Christ, who 
 appoints the priest, will be compelled to believe him when he 
 avenges the priest.”J In proof of the necessity of paying 
 obedience to the bishop, he adduces the fact that even the bees 
 have a queen whom they obey, and robbers a captain whom # 
 they follow in all things. Moreover, the way in which he 
 appeals to the testimony of Christians and pagans concerning 
 his humility seems scarcely suited to refute what Pupian had 
 said respecting his want of that virtue.§ 
 
 Cyprian wrote this letter in the year 253 or 254 _for 
 
 according to^ his own statement he had then administered the 
 episcopal office for a period of six years. At this time, how¬ 
 ever, the conventicles where the holy supper of the Lord was 
 distributed to the seceding party still continued.! Pupian 
 
 rlHionin m . a Lk. e inferred from Cyprians words: Quanquam sciam somnia 
 ndicula et visiones ineptas videri. 
 
 f Unde, scire debes, episcopum in ecclesia esse, et ecclesiam in epis- 
 copo ; et isi quis cum episcopo non sit, in ecclesia non esse. 
 
 X UU 1 Christo non credit sacerdotem facienti, postea credere incipiet, 
 sacerdotem vindicanti. u <- 
 
 § UumdUatem meam et fratres omnes et gentiles quoque optime 
 novunt et diligunt; et tu quoque noveras et diligebas, cum adhue in 
 ecclesia esses et mecum commuuicares. 
 
 || As Cyprian himself gives us to understand, when he says, Frustra 
 
330 
 
 SCHISM AT ROME. 
 
 had reproached him also with this, alleging that it was by his 
 fault that a part was separated ffom-the whole church.* Com- 
 modian, who wrote his Christian Admonitions at a somewhat 
 later period, found it still necessary to reprove this schismatical 
 tendency, which, as often happens, was perhaps kept up for a 
 short time even after the occasion was forgotten which had 
 first called it forth. He rebukes those who see the motes in 
 others’ eyes, but cannot discern the beam that is in their 
 own.f 
 
 The second schism had its origin in the Roman church; 
 and as, in suppressing the first, Cornelius of Rome coope¬ 
 rated with Cyprian of Carthage, so in this we see Cy¬ 
 prian joining with Cornelius to maintain the unity of the 
 church. Like the former, the latter division sprang out of a 
 dispute as to the election of a bishop, and from the collision 
 of opposite opinions with regard to the penances of the church. 
 There was, however, this difference, that in the former ease 
 the schism arose with the laxer party, in the latter with the 
 more rigid one. The immediate occasion which led to the 
 actual outbreak of this schism, as well as of the other, 
 were occurrences which took place during the persecution of 
 Decius. We have already observed that in the Roman 
 church the general sentiment inclined to the milder view in 
 the matter of penance; there was, however, even in that 
 church, a more rigid party, the head of which was Novation , 
 a presbyter of some distinction, having made himself known 
 as a theological writer. 
 
 We are, however, without further and accurate information 
 as to the character of this man, such as would enable us to 
 form any certain conclusions how far his views on this ques¬ 
 tion and his whole conduct in the affair were influenced by 
 the peculiar bent of his disposition. For the sayings of his 
 exasperated enemies, and statements which bear throughout 
 
 sibi blandiri eos, qui, pacem cum sacerdotibus Dei non habentes, 
 obrepunt et latenter apud quosdam communicare se credunt. _ . 
 
 * Scripsisti quoque, quoa ecclesia nunc propter me portionem sui in 
 
 d'ispenso habeat. 
 
 + Cap. 66 :— . . . . 
 
 Disposition tempus vemt nostris. rax est in or be 
 Et ruinasimul blandiente seculo premit 
 Preecipitis populi, quem in schisma misistis. 
 Conspicitis stipulam cohairentem in oculis nostris, 
 Et vestris in oculis non vultis cernere trabem. 
 
NOVaTIANUS. 
 
 331 
 
 the marks of passionate exaggeration, are of course entitled to 
 no credit. If we endeavour to separate the real facts from 
 the distorted and spiteful representations of Novatian’s oppo¬ 
 nents, the following presents itself as the most probable state 
 of the case: Violent internal conflicts had thrown Novatian, 
 a man of an earnest frame of mind, into a state similar to 
 that usual among those labouring under demoniacal possession. 
 This was for him, as it was for so many others of that period, 
 the hard way to faith. It was to the prayer of an exorcist of 
 the Roman church that he,—who had perhaps already been 
 touched in various ways by the power of Christianity,—owed 
 his restoration for the moment. From this violent convulsion 
 of his whole being he fell into a severe sickness, which even¬ 
 tually resulted in his entire and radical cure. In the course of 
 this sickness his faith became established, and, believing death 
 to be at hand, he received baptism on the sick bed. He found 
 in Christianity peace, rest, and a healing power. As he now 
 distinguished himself by steadfastness in the faith—the clear¬ 
 ness of his Christian knowledge—(to which his writings bear 
 witness)—for a happy facility in teaching—and for a zeal fox- 
 holiness, which afterwards led him to adopt an ascetical life, 
 Bishop Fabian ordained him presbyter, disregarding the fact 
 that it was on the bed of sickness that he had first made profes¬ 
 sion of the faith and been baptised. The Roman clergy were 
 from the first dissatisfied with this procedure ; because they 
 maintained the letter of the law, that no individual who 
 had been baptised on a sick bed,—no clinicus,—should 
 receive ordination; but the wiser Fabian interpreted this law 
 according to its spirit* rather than its letter, for its object 
 was simply to keep out of the spiritual order those who 
 had, without true repentance, conviction, and knowledge, 
 received baptism in the momentary alarm produced by the 
 fear of death. In Novatian’s case every suspicion of the 
 kind was refuted by his subsequent life. Fox- a season he had 
 
 * As it is expressed in the 12th canon of the council held at Neo 
 Caesarea, a.d. 314 ; which, after declaring that a person baptized in sick¬ 
 ness could not be consecrated as a presbyter, assigns as a reason “ that 
 such faith did not spring from free conviction, but was forced ” {obx. U 
 'Tfioa.i^icrzus yag ri mirri; abrov, oAx’ si; ivuyjtns). Hence, too, an exception 
 was jnade in favour of subsequent zeal and faith (>« rJjv pira 
 abrov /rrovVnv ucc) nitrnv). This exception would apply to Novatian. 
 
332 
 
 NOVATIANUS. 
 
 exchanged the practical life of an active clergyman for the 
 noiseless seclusion of the ascetic ; but afterwards, as soon per¬ 
 haps as he was made the head of a party, he was induced once 
 more to resume the active duties of his office.* 
 
 * It is here particularly important to consult the synodal letter of 
 Cornelius, bishop of Rome, to Fabius, bishop of Antioch. A fragment 
 of it has been preserved by Eusebius (1. VI. c. 43). This letter de¬ 
 serves notice as illustrating that tendency of the ecclesiastical spirit to 
 confound the outward with the inner life, which, at an early period, 
 became markedly prominent, especially at Rome. It is urged as an ob¬ 
 jection against Novatian, that his restoration from a demoniacal frenzy, 
 as it was called, by exorcists of the Roman church, had been the means 
 of his conversion. Whether this were the case or not, no reproach surely 
 could attach to Novatian’s character as a Christian from the circum¬ 
 stances which had led him to embrace Christianity. Not less want¬ 
 ing in good sense than unworthy of a Christian is the reproach of 
 Cornelius, that Satan was the occasion of Novatian’s faith (u yt 
 tov ’TTHTTivffui yiyoviv o traTizva?) ; as if the works of evil do not often 
 become subservient to the foundation and increase of the kingdom of 
 God. It is further objected to him, that, after his restoration from this 
 demoniacal disease, he fell into a severe fit of sickness (which may 
 be very naturally explained; the crisis in his whole organic system, for 
 which he was indebted to the restoration from his frenetic state, was 
 the cause of the sickness), and that in the fear of death he received bap¬ 
 tism, but baptism only by sprinkling, as his condition required (the 
 baptismus clinicorum not being by immersion, which was the usual 
 practice of those times), if it could be said, indeed, that such a one had 
 been baptized at all. It is objected, moreover, that subsequently he re¬ 
 ceived none of those rites which should have been bestowed on him 
 according to the usages of the church,—such, e. g., as confirmation by the 
 hand of the bishop. “ How then could he possibly have received the Holy 
 Ghost f" (All this is quite characteristic of the outwardness and pas¬ 
 sionate prejudice of the growing hierarchical spirit of the Roman 
 church!) A bishop of Rome, probably Fabian,—the letter goes on to 
 say,—ordained him presbyter, against the wishes of the rest of the 
 clergy, who objected to the ordination of a person who had been bap¬ 
 tized by sprinkling, on a sick bed. (The bishop, probably a man of 
 more liberal spirit, wished in this case to make an exception.) Corne¬ 
 lius again objects that during the prosecution Novation had, out of fear, 
 shut himself up in his chamber, and was unw'illing to Jeavf it to perform 
 the duties of his office in behalf of such as needed his help. W hen his 
 deacons asked him to do this, he turned them off with the reply that 
 “ he was the friend of another philosophy.” Here, to be sure, we have 
 nothing but conjecture to help us to the real fact, which the hatred of 
 Cornelius may have misrepresented. Probably by the wsm tpo.txufla 
 may be understood the secluded life of the ascetic as compared with that 
 of the practical ecclesiastic. Novatian may have retired, for a season, 
 into solitude, and withdrawn himself from his public duties. This is in 
 keeping with the austere character which speaks out in his principles of 
 
NOVATIANUS. 
 
 333 
 
 Some slight allusions in Cyprian by no means suffice to 
 prove that Novatian, previous to his conversion, had been a 
 stoic philosopher, and that the spirit of the stoical ethics 
 mingling with his Christianity, had produced the severity of 
 his sentiments on these matters. As his principles admit 
 of a natural explanation from the sternness of his Christian 
 character, and as in this case he acted entirely in the spirit 
 which in his time actuated a whole party of the church, there 
 is little need to refer them to an outward source, especially 
 in the absence of all historical evidence.* 
 
 Here a question arises of considerable importance, the 
 right decision of which will materially assist us in forming a 
 right judgment both on the matters in dispute, and on°the 
 character of Novatian. It is this :—Was his opposition directed 
 in the first place against Cornelius as bishop, or against the 
 milder principles of church penance? To judge, indeed, from 
 the accusations of his passionate opponents, it would seem 
 that in the outset an ambitious desire of the episcopal dignity 
 induced him to excite these troubles in the church, and to 
 place himself at the head of a party. If it could be proved 
 that during the Decian persecution he had belonged to the 
 milder party, it would indeed give probability to the assertion 
 that external inducements had driven him to those extremes. 
 Now in this persecution, the Roman clergy, being at the time 
 without a bishop at their head, had sent to Cyprian, bishop of 
 
 penitence; and it might be as an ascetic that he owed his high consi¬ 
 deration with the church. It was wrong perhaps in Novatian to listen to 
 the promptings of a false asceticism, and to forget Christian charity so 
 tar as to refuse to leave his spiritual quiet and solitude, and help the 
 brethren who needed his priestly consolations ; but Cornelius may have 
 allowed himself to invent for his conduct on this occasion another mo¬ 
 tive inconsistent with Novation's character. 
 
 It is by no means clear that even Novatian's opponents seriously 
 thought of deriving his peculiar views from any such origin. If Cyprian 
 objects tothese views that they are more stoical than Christian (ep. 52 
 ad Antonian), naturally this refers simply to their character, and not to 
 their origin; and when he upbraids him, “Jactet se licet et philoso- 
 phiam vel eloquentiam suam superbis vocibus pra'dicet,” the first may 
 seem an allusion perhaps to the rplfiav, the pallium of the atrxnrfu (see the 
 preceding note), or to the fame of a distinguished dogmatic v r riter which 
 Novatian had acquired as author of the work De regula fidei, or De tri- 
 mtate.^ 1 hus, too, Cornelius speaks of him in the above-cited letter as 
 Ouroi o a tv; ixxXvticcittdiv; itittv/xv; •JTznctT'X'tfTr,;. 
 
334 
 
 NOV ATI ANUS. 
 
 Carthage,* a letter in which he was informed of their opinion 
 that absolution ought to be granted at the extremity of death 
 to all lapsed persons who manifested true penitence ; a sen¬ 
 tence at variance with the principles of the more rigid party, 
 which unconditionally excluded from the absolution ot the 
 church all who had been convicted of peccata mortalia. And 
 vet, according to Cyprian’s testimony, this letter was composed 
 by Novatian.t But even if Cyprian’s account be perfectly 
 correct, yet from a letter setting forth the common decision 
 of a college of presbyters no certain inference can be drawn 
 as to the personal opinions of the individual who composed 
 it • for possibly nothing more than the form and style ot 
 composition were his. It might be that IS ovatian at t is 
 time may have thought it right to submit to the majority, 
 though afterwards he felt himself bound to oppose it. And 
 indeed the same letter contains an intimation that a final 
 and settled decision on these controverted matters would be 
 best made after the restoration of peace, and the election 
 of a new bishop. Novatian, therefore, although himself 
 inclined to severer measures, might the more readil) >ield 
 for the moment to a milder course, the more he saw a hope 
 that, when the matter should be finally discussed and de¬ 
 termined, an authoritative sanction would be given to his 
 own principles. Moreover, in the same letter, he expresses 
 himself doubtfully enough as to the value of the absolu¬ 
 tion imparted in such cases.—“ God only knows, Be says, 
 “ how He will dispose of such, and by what rule He will 
 judge them. ” | This language does indeed intimate the 
 writer’s own opinion that absolution could not with pro¬ 
 priety be granted to such persons—that they ought to be sim¬ 
 ply commended to the divine mercy, and the decision of their 
 fate left with God; although we would not deny that any 
 one of the milder party might consistently enough express 
 himself thus from a conviction of the deceitfulness of all out¬ 
 ward signs of penitence. § If Novatian generally per for me 
 
 f He says, for instance, e P . 52, of this letter, Novatiano tunc scribente 
 
 t quod scripserat, sua voce recitante. . ... . • 
 
 j Deo ipso sciente, quid de talibus faciat et qualiter judicu sui exami- 
 
 e \ Thufc’yprian, ep. 52: Si nos aliquis pcenitentiae simulatione delu- 
 ;r it, Deus, qui non deridetur, et qui cor hominis intuetur, de his quae 
 
NOV ATI ANUS. 
 
 335 
 
 at this time the function of secretary to the Roman church * 
 he must also be considered as the writer of a still earlier 
 letter,f composed in the name of the Roman clergy, in which 
 the same principles are advanced as in the second. If tins were 
 the case, then what we have just said respecting the relation 
 of the writer’s own opinions to the views expressed in the 
 communication of a public body must be applied also to this 
 letter 4 It was never objected to Novatian that his later 
 
 views contradicted his earlier and published convictions; and 
 it easily admits of explanation, if the opposition of the more 
 rigid party did not assume a decided attitude until the close 
 of the persecution, when the final deliberations respecting the 
 treatment of the lapsi commenced, and when the milder 
 party had obtained a leader in the person of their bishop 
 Cornelius. We have the less reason to doubt that a zeal 
 for the more rigid principles inspired Novatian from the first 
 since they accorded so perfectly with his character. The accu¬ 
 sations of his opponents should not be allowed to embarrass 
 us, for it is the usual way with theological polemics to trace 
 schisms and heresies to some outward, unhallowed motive 
 even in the absence of all proof, men the Roman bishopric 
 was vacatecf by the death of Fabian, Novatian had on some 
 occasion solemnly declared that he would not be a candidate 
 and had no longing for the episcopal dignity—to which, how¬ 
 ever, on account of the high respect which a large portion 
 
 emendet US perspeximiis ’j udicet » et servorum suorum sententiam Dominus 
 
 * Which, however, cannot be certainly inferred from the testimony of 
 Cyprian already cited. For it is left doubtful whether it was by a mere 
 acmdent that Novatian composed that letter, or whether he wrote it in 
 
 Jw°^ Cla i Ca ? aCdy ; must allow it, however, to be not improbable 
 that the theological author, in a church where learning and talent for 
 eomposmon were not so common, would be made the church secretary 
 note f WG haYe Clted alread >' at P a g e 185, note f, and page 314, 
 
 ,i ^ lQ i 'If ? etter ’ t00 ’ tlle subjective opinion of the writer may gleam 
 
 fai r ien® h “ t rl laDSU f Se ; ^ herG he Speaks ° f the adm °uitions given to the 
 ad f ; , lP S0S cohortati sumus et hortamur, agere pceniteutiam, si quo 
 modo mdulgentiam poterunt recipere ab eo qui potest prmstare,”—though 
 
 viih'f . "l .V 10 , 1 ™ cessar } l 'J express as much. In the severity of tone 
 with which this letter speaks of those bishops that forsook their commu¬ 
 nities we might likewise recognise the sentiments of the more rigid 
 
336 
 
 SCHISM OF XOVATIAtiUS 
 
 of the community entertained for him as an ascetic and a 
 divine, he might, perhaps, easily have attained. We have 
 no reason, with Cornelias, to accuse Novatian in this case 
 of perjury. He could say this with perfect sincerity; he, 
 the ascetic loving repose, the theologian desiring to be left 
 undisturbed to his dogmatic speculations, surely had no wish 
 to burden himself with an office so overwhelmed with cares 
 as that of a Roman bishop had already become. Cornelius 
 indeed knew that he secretly sighed after the episcopal dig¬ 
 nity : but whence had Cornelius the eye to search into the 
 secrets and inmost recesses of his opponent’s heart ? Cyprian 
 himself intimates that a party strife concerning principles , 
 which in the outset had been wholly objective, had com¬ 
 menced the dispute; and it was not until this dispute made 
 a schism inevitable that the opposite party set up another 
 bishop as their chief against Cornelius.* His ascetic zeal 
 led Novatian to contend simply for what he conceived to be 
 the purity of the church, against the decay of discipline, 
 without wishing or seeking for anything besides. Settled in 
 his own convictions, zealous and ardent in their defence, but 
 by natural disposition insensible to all unquiet and external 
 influences, he was, against his own will, made the head of a 
 party by those who agreed with him in principles, and he was 
 by them compelled to assume the episcopal dignity. In this 
 regard he could, in his letter to Dionysius bishop of Alexan¬ 
 dria, appeal with truth to the fact “ that he had been hurried 
 on against his willh’j 
 
 The man who was really the active soul of this party, and 
 to whose influence, doubtless, it was owing that they broke 
 entirely with Cornelius and elected another bishop for them¬ 
 selves, came from a different quarter. Novatus, the Car¬ 
 thaginian priest, who had been the chief instigator of the 
 troubles in the church of North Africa, had left that country 
 when Cyprian gained the upper hand, either because he no 
 longer agreed with the principles of Felicissimus, and yet 
 would not be reconciled to Cyprian and acknowledge him for 
 his bishop, or simply because his intrigues against the latter 
 
 * Cyprian, ep. 42: Divers® partis obstinata et inflexibilis pertinacia 
 son tantum matris sinum recusavit; sed etiam, gliscente et in pejus recru- 
 descente discordia, episcopum sibi constituit. 
 
 ■j* "Oti H.r.u'i Euseb. 1. YI. c. 46. 
 
FOSTERED BY NOVATUS. 
 
 337 
 
 had totally failed. Betaking himself to Rome, he found there 
 the germs of a dispute. His temperament did not allow him 
 to lie idle and neutral where strife and agitation were going 
 on. According to the principles which, in common with the 
 other four presbyters and Felicissimus, he had advocated at 
 Carthage, he ought to have sided with Cornelius.* But 
 whether his views on the matter in dispute had undergone a 
 change (either under the influence of Novatian, his superior in 
 theoretical theology, or as a consequence of an excitable tem¬ 
 perament ready to pass from one extreme to another), or 
 whether, feeling no real interest in the object of dispute, either 
 at Carthage or at Rome, he was, in his way, ready to sympa¬ 
 thise everywhere with a party in opposition ; whether he was 
 inclined to espouse the cause of any party which had no hisliop 
 at its head , or whether he hated Cornelius for other reasons— 
 it is enough for us that Novatus passionately adopted and 
 contended for the principles of Novatian. Wherever he mio-ht 
 be, at Carthage or at Rome, he was the very man to become 
 the moving spring of agitation, while he placed another at the 
 head under whose name everything was to be done. It may 
 therefore have been through his active influence that the 
 schism assumed a more decided character, and that Novatian 
 W'as forced by his party to oppose himself, as bishop, to Cor¬ 
 nelius. 
 
 As to the latter, in his treatment of those who during the 
 persecution of Decius had fallen from their steadfastness he 
 had been governed by the milder principles of the church. He 
 had admitted many to the communion of the church who were 
 accused at least by the other party of being sacrificati. He 
 was therefore charged by Novatian and his followers with 
 polluting the church by the admission of the unclean. On 
 both sides great liberties were taken in ascribing the actions of 
 
 Mosheim defends Novatus against the reproach of inconsistency, 
 by recalling the fact that he was not one of the five presbyters, and that 
 he agreed with these and with Felicissimus, not in every respect, but 
 onlj in their opposition to Cyprian. But the evidence above cited stands 
 m the way of this assertion. The strongest argument which Mosheim 
 brings in support of his own view is, that Cyprian, who raked up every 
 possible charge against Novatus, never accuses him, even when he had 
 occasion for so doing, of inconsistency. But it is possible that Cyprian 
 was loth to touch on this point, because he might fear a retort on account 
 of his own change of principles. 
 
 VOL. I. 7 
 
338 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 the opposite party to secret motives, calculated to place them 
 in the most unfavourable light. As Cornelius had charged 
 Novatian until acting under the impulse of an ambitious long¬ 
 ing after the episcopal dignity, so a part at least of Novatian’s 
 followers ascribed the mildness of Cornelius towards others 
 to the consciousness of similar guilt; he himself, as they 
 affirmed, was a libellaticus.* Both parties endeavoured, as 
 was usual in such disputes, to secure on their own side the 
 verdict of the great metropolitan churches of Alexandria, An¬ 
 tioch, and Carthage, and both sent deputies to them. The 
 zeal shown by Novatian for the strictness of discipline and the 
 maintenance of purity in the church (the honesty of which 
 his own life avouched), and the authority of certain confessors 
 who in the beginning were united with him, procured for his 
 deputies a favourable reception. One bishop, Fabius of 
 Antioch, was even on the point of deciding in his favour. 
 Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria, a man of a mild, moderate, 
 and liberal mind, was from the beginning opposed to the No¬ 
 vatian principles; but he tried first of all by friendly argu¬ 
 ments to induce Novatian to submit. In reply to his applica¬ 
 tion! he wrote, “ If you have, as you say, been urged on 
 against your own will, you will best prove this by voluntarily 
 retracting; for there is nothing you ought not to be willing to 
 suffer rather than create a schism in the church of God. And 
 martyrdom endured for the sake of preventing schism would 
 be not less glorious than martyrdom to avoid being an 
 idolater ; nay, in my opinion, it would be nobler,—for in the 
 one case you become a martyr for the peace of your own soul, 
 in the other for the good of the entire church. If, then, you 
 now either persuade or constrain the brethren to unanimity, 
 the good you would thus do would exceed the evil which you 
 have caused. The latter will not be laid to your charge, and 
 the former will redound to your praise. But even if others 
 should refuse to follow you, and you cannot accomplish so 
 much, hasten at any rate to save your oion soul. Hoping that 
 you may follow after peace, I bid you farew r ell in the Lord.” 
 But Novatian was too deeply rooted in his opinions, and car¬ 
 ried away too far by the ardour of controversy, to listen to 
 such representations. The amiable Dionysius, therefore, now 
 declared decidedly against him, and used his influence also to 
 * Cyprian, ep. 52. f Euseb. 1. VI. c. 46. 
 
NO VAX! ANUS. 
 
 339 
 
 detach others from his party. He accused him of promul¬ 
 gating the most mischievous doctrines about God, and of 
 calumniating the compassionate Saviour as an unmerciful 
 being.* 
 
 Is ovatian might however have reckoned more confidently 
 on support in North Africa, where Cyprian himself had 
 formerly been inclined to similar principles on the matter 
 of penitence. But Cyprian, as we have already observed, 
 had changed his views and his practice, and thus exposed 
 himself to the charge of inconsistency and fickleness of mind.-j- 
 At the same time he looked upon Novatian as a disturber of 
 the unity of the church, who set up himself against a bishop 
 regularly chosen and appointed by God himself, and who 
 would prescribe his own peculiar principles as laws for the 
 entire church. 
 
 The controversy with the Novatian party turned upon two 
 general points 1. What are the principles of penitence ? 2. 
 What constitutes the idea and essence of a true church ? In 
 regaid to the first, Novatian has often been unjustly accused 
 of maintaining that no person, having once violated his 
 baptismal vows, can ever obtain forgiveness of sin, but is 
 sure of eternal damnation. But, first, Novatian by no means 
 maintained that a Christian is a perfect saint. He spoke not 
 of all sins, but, assuming as valid the distinction already men¬ 
 tioned between “ peccata venialia” and “ peccata mortalia,” 
 he was treating only of the latter. Again, what he said did 
 not by any means apply to the divine forgiveness of sin, but 
 only to the judgment of the church —the absolution of 
 the church. The church, he meant to say, has no right to 
 grant absolution to a person who, by any mortal sin, has 
 scorned the pardon obtained for him by Christ, and appro- 
 pi iated to him by baptism. No counsel of God, with regard 
 to such persons, has been revealed; for the forgiveness of sin, 
 which the gospel assures us of, relates only to sins com¬ 
 mitted before baptism. We ought doubtless to take care of 
 those who have thus fallen, but nothing can be done for 
 them beyond exhorting them to repent, and commending 
 them to the mercy of God. “ The sacrificati,” Novatian 
 
 Eliseb. 1. VII. C. 8 : Tov xgnffrorarov zugiov r,u/Z\ ’Iricouv ~X.pi<rrov, a; 
 dvn\tY) (rvxotpa.vrovvn. 
 
 f Ep. 52 : JYe me aliquis existimet, a proposito meo leviter recessisse. 
 
340 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 wrote,* “ must not be received to the communion; they 
 should only be exhorted to repentance,—the forgiveness of 
 their sins must be left to that God who alone has power to for¬ 
 give sin.” That this was Novatian’s doctrine, even Cyprian, 
 —though in the heat of controversy he did not always keep 
 it in mind,—evidently presupposes, when he says, j “ Oh, 
 what mockery of the deluded brethren, what an idle deluding 
 of those afflicted and unhappy men,—to exhort them to a re¬ 
 pentance whereby they are to satisfy God, and yet deprive 
 them of the salvation to which through this satisfaction they are 
 to attain! To say to your brother, Mourn, and shed tears, 
 and sigh day and night, abound in good works, so thou mayest 
 wash away thy sins, but after all thou shalt die out of the pale 
 of the church ! Thou must do all that pertains to peace ; but 
 the peace thou seekest thou shalt not obtain ! Who would not 
 give up at once ? Who would not sink in very despair ? 
 Think you the husbandman could labour, were it said to him 
 £ Bestow all diligence and care on the culture of your fields, 
 but you shall reap no harvest ’ ? ” It must be admitted that, 
 even in what he here says, Cyprian does not enter sufficiently 
 into his opponent’s train of thought, and is not quite fair 
 towards him. For it was by no means Novatian’s doctrine 
 that all the exertions of such a penitent were to no purpose. 
 He maintained only that the church had no warrant to promise 
 him the desired forgiveness which divine grace might bestow. 
 
 In the outset, as we see from Novatian’s explanation con¬ 
 tained in the passage just quoted from Socrates, the question 
 in this controversy related only to one of those offences which 
 were generally classed among the peccata mortalia, the denial, 
 viz., of Christianity. On the supposition that Novatian 
 was at first thus severe against this class of offences alone, 
 Cyprian was right in opposing absolutely the moral standard 
 which must have been the basis of such a mode of judging, and 
 in resolutely combating the notion that merely such offences 
 were to be denominated sins against God, denial of God, 
 denial of Christianity ; as if every sin were not a sin against 
 God, a practical denial of God and of Christianity. “ Surely,” 
 savs Cyprian,J “ the sin of an adulterer and deceiver is more 
 heinous than that of the libellatici; for the latter fall into sin 
 
 * Vid. Socrat. 1. IV. c. 28. 
 f Ep. 52. X Ep. 52. 
 
NOVATIANUS. 
 
 341 
 
 through compulsion and under the wrong impression that it is 
 simply enough not to have sacrificed, while the former sins of 
 free choice. Adulterers and deceivers, according to the 
 apostle Paul, Eph. v. 5, are as idolaters.” “For since our 
 bodies are the members of Christ, and each of us is a temple 
 of God, whoever by adultery defiles God’s temple, offends God 
 himself ; and whoever by committing sin does the will of 
 Satan, worships evil spirits and false gods: for evil works 
 proceed not from the Holy Spirit, but from the instigations 
 of the adversary, and evil desires born of the unclean spirit 
 lead men on to act against God and to serve the devil.” 
 
 But afterwards, at least, the Novatian party expressly ap¬ 
 plied their principle to the whole class of “ mortal sins ;” which 
 application Novatian himself most probably had in mind 
 from the beginning, though the immediate occasion of the con¬ 
 troversy led him to speak of one description only of mortal 
 sins. The ascetic was assuredly not disposed to treat sins of 
 voluptuousness with too much indulgence. 
 
 Again, in the passage from Socrates, Novatian speaks of 
 those only who had sacrificed. But if Cyprian does not mis¬ 
 represent Novatian, he most unjustly, in the outset at least, 
 placed in the same category all who during the persecution 
 had in any way proved unfaithful, as well libellatici as 
 sacrificati, without any discrimination of the various degrees 
 of guilt, or of the difference of the attendant circumstances, 
 utterly refusing absolution to all alike, without considering how 
 many of the libellatics were guilty rather of an error and mis¬ 
 take of the understanding, than of an actual sin. 
 
 The manner in which Cyprian combated these principles 
 of Novatian* beautifully attests the spirit of Christian cha¬ 
 rity and sympathy which animated him. Having supposed 
 the case of many libellatici, whose conscience did not reprove 
 them of any crime, being tempted, by despair, to tear themselves 
 away with their families from the church, and to seek ad¬ 
 mission into some heretical sect, he observes—“ At the day of 
 judgment it will be laid to our charge that we took no care of 
 the unsound sheep, and, on account of one that was diseased, 
 left many sound ones to perish ; that while our Lord left the 
 ninety-and-nine whole sheep, and went after the one that 
 had wandered and become weary, and, when he had found 
 
 * Ep. 52. 
 
342 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 it, brought it away himself on his shoulders, we not only do 
 not seek after the lost, but even reject them when they 
 return.” He contrasts with this severity several passages from 
 the apostle Paul (1 Cor. ix. 22; xii. 26; x. 33, &c.), and 
 then adds—“ The case stands differently with the philosophers 
 and stoics, who say all sins are equal, and that a steadfast man 
 should not easily be brought to bend. But the difference is 
 great betwixt philosophers and Christians. We must avoid what¬ 
 ever proceeds, not from God’s grace, but from the pride of a 
 cold philosophy. Our Lord says, in his gospel, 4 Be ye merci¬ 
 ful, even as your Father is mercifuland 4 the whole need not 
 a physician, but the sick but such a physician he cannot 
 be who says, I heal only the sound who need no physician. 
 Behold, yonder lies thy brother, wounded in battle by the 
 adversary. On the one hand, Satan seeks to destroy him 
 whom he has wounded; on the other, Christ exhorts us not to 
 leave him to perish whom he has redeemed. Which cause do 
 we espouse? on whose side do we stand? Do we help the 
 devil to finish his work of destruction ? Do we, like the priest 
 and the Levite in the gospel, pass by our brother lying half 
 dead ? Or do we, like priests of Gocl and of Christ, following 
 our Lord’s precepts and example, rescue the wounded man 
 from the grasp of his enemy ; that, having done everything for 
 his salvation, we may leave the final decision of his case to the 
 judgment of God ? ” * 
 
 Beautifully and truly said as all this was, in opposition to 
 the spirit of Novatianism, yet Novatian’s principles were 
 neither touched nor refuted by it. Even Novatian admitted 
 that the fallen brethren must be looked after and exhorted to 
 repentance. He too acknowledged God’s mercy towards 
 sinners, and allowed it right to commend the lapsed to that 
 mercy ; but that the forgiveness of sins they had once forfeited 
 should be again made over to them, this he was unwilling 
 to allow, because he could find no objective ground for 
 such a confidence. The only way in which he could be 
 effectually answered was by pointing out such an objective 
 ground of confidence for all sinners—the merits, namely, of 
 
 * Ut curatum Deo judici reservemus; upon the supposition, that is, 
 that absolution cannot forestall God's judgment, but is only valid at the 
 divine tribunal when God, who tries the secrets of the heart, finds the 
 temper of the man to correspond with this absolution. 
 
NOVATIANUS. 
 
 342 
 
 Christ, which the sinner needed ever but to appropriate to him¬ 
 self by faithful penitence and trust whenever the true relation 
 is unfolded between the objective and subjective elements of 
 justification and regeneration. But on this point Novation’s 
 opponents themselves had not very clear views; for though, in 
 opposing his principles, they did indeed sometimes refer to 
 1 John ii. 1, 2, yet in so doing they expressed themselves as if 
 the forgiveness of sin obtained by Christ related properly to 
 those sins alone which had been committed before baptism, 
 and as if in respect to sins committed afterwards there was 
 need of a new and special satisfaction by good works. This 
 position once taken, Novatian might fairly ask, who can vouch 
 for it that such a satisfaction will suffice ? 
 
 With regard to the second main point of the controversy,* 
 the idea of the church, Novatian maintained that, purity and 
 holiness being one of the essential marks of a true church, 
 every church which, neglecting the right use of discipline, 
 tolerates in its bosom, or readmits to its communion, such per¬ 
 sons as, by gross sins, have broken their baptismal vow, 
 ceases by that very act to be a true Christian church, and for¬ 
 feits all the rights and privileges of a true church. On this 
 ground the Novatianists, as they held themselves to be alone 
 the pure immaculate church, called themselves “ ol mSapol,” 
 the Pure. It was rightly urged against Novatian that indi¬ 
 viduals are responsible and punishable only for their own sins 
 and not foi the sins of others in which they had no share; that 
 it is only the inner communion of the heart with sinners, not 
 outward fellowship with them, that is defiling; and that it 
 was but the arrogance of human pride to pretend to the exer¬ 
 cise on earth of that judicial separation between the true and 4 - 
 false members of the church which the Lord has reserved to 
 himself. On this point Cyprian finely remarks, “ Though the 
 tares are manifest in the church, this should not disturb our 
 aith oi our charity so far as to lead us to separate ourselves 
 fioin the church itself because there are tares in it. Our 
 thoughts should rather be directed to this, that we ourselves 
 
 K Pacianus, of Barcelona, who wrote in the latter part of the fourth 
 century ^concisely expressed the two main positions of Novatian in these 
 woids . “ Quod mortale peccatum ecclesia donare non possit, inimo quod 
 ipsa pereat recipiendo peccantes.” Ep. III. contra Novatian. Galland. 
 bibl. patr. T. VII. 
 
344 
 
 SCHISM OF 
 
 belong to the wheat, so that when the grain is gathered into our 
 Lord’s garner we may receive the reward of our work. The 
 apostle says, 1 In a great house there are not only vessels of 
 gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth ; and some to 
 honour and some to dishonour. Let us labour with all diligence, 
 that we may be vessels of gold or of silver. To dash in pieces 
 the earthen vessel belongs to the Lord alone, to whom is also 
 given the rod of iron. The servant cannot be greater than his 
 master; and no man may appropriate to himself what the 
 Father has given only to his .Son ; nor believe himself able 
 to wield the fan in order to purge and clease the floor, or to 
 separate, by his merely human judgment, every tare from the 
 wheat.” 
 
 But even here men were unable to find the real and decisive 
 point for the confutation of Novatianism; on the contrary, 
 Novatian and his opponents were involved in the same funda¬ 
 mental error, and differed only in their application of it: and 
 this fundamental error, was that of confounding the notions of 
 the visible and of the invisible church. Hence was it that 
 Novatian, transferring the predicate of purity and unspotted 
 holiness which belongs to the invisible church, the community 
 of the saints as such, Eph. v. 27, to the visible form in which 
 it manifests itself, concluded that every church which suf¬ 
 fered unclean members to remain in it ceased to be a true 
 branch of the one church. The same error of confounding the 
 inward with the outward church, which led to Novatian’s false 
 application of the predicates of the church, is also betrayed in 
 his assertion that a person is made impure by outward fellow¬ 
 ship with the impure in the same church communion. But the 
 opponents of Novatian, while they started with the same 
 fundamental error, differed from him only by laying at the basis 
 of their speculations the notion of the church as carried on and 
 sustained by the succession of bishops, and then deriving the 
 predicates of purity and holiness from that notion. The church, 
 transmitted and propagated by the succession of bishops, was, 
 in their view, as such, a pure and holy one. Novatian, on the 
 other hand, laid at the basis of his theory the visible church 
 as pure and holy, and these qualities were, in his view, 
 the essential conditions of the truly catholic church. The 
 catholic church, though carried on by the succession of 
 bishops, ceases, in his opinion, to be a truly catholic one as 
 
NOVATIA'NUS. 
 
 345 
 
 soon as it becomes stained and desecrated through the fellow¬ 
 ship with unworthy men. The more objective or subjective 
 tendency made all the difference between the two parties in 
 their application of the same fundamental principle. 
 
 Now, instead of distinguishing different applications of the 
 notion of the church, Cyprian was contented to distinguish 
 simply a twofold condition of one and the same church , its 
 state on earth and its state in glory, when the separation shall 
 have been made complete by the final judgment. Entangled 
 in this fundamental error of confounding external things with 
 internal, it happened on a subsequent occasion, when the con¬ 
 troversy with Novatianism was no longer before his mind, that 
 he himself came very near to theNovatian principles, declaring 
 to certain Spanish churches* that by tolerating unworthy 
 priests they themselves would be defiled; that they who 
 remained in communion with sinners would become themselves 
 partakers of their sins.f 
 
 Out of this controversy the system of the catholic church, 
 so firmly established and exactly compacted in all its parts, 
 came forth victorious ; and if in the following centuries Nova- 
 tianists still survived, it was only as an insulated and insignifi¬ 
 cant sect. 
 
 * Ep. 69. 
 
 -j- Consortes et partieipes alienorum delictonun fieri, qui fuerint deiin- 
 queutibus copulati. 
 
346 
 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE 
 
 SECTION THIRD. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE AND CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 
 
 Christian Life. 
 
 Ever since Christianity first entered into human nature, it has 
 operated, in all cases where it has struck root, with the s am e 
 divine power of sanctification; and this divine power cannot 
 be weakened by the lapse of ages. In this respect, therefore, 
 the period of the first appearance of Christianity could possess 
 no preeminence over any of the following ages of the church. 
 One peculiarity, however, marked this first period. The change 
 wrought by Christianity in the convictions and actions of its 
 converts could not fail to be more striking through the con¬ 
 trast it presented with what they had once been as pagans. 
 Thus the apostle St. Paul, in writing to Christians converted 
 from paganism, reminds them of what they once were, when 
 they walked according to the course of this world, according 
 to the spirit that worked in the children of disobedience; and 
 after enumerating some of the prevailing vices of the corrupt 
 heathen world, says to them, “ And such were some of you ; 
 but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in 
 the name of the Lord Jesus, aud by the Spirit of God.” 
 Teachers of the church, who had been heathens, frequently 
 appeal to such effects which they themselves had experienced. 
 Thus Cyprian, under the first glow of conversion, witnesses of 
 it :*—“ Receive from me what must be felt ere it is learned , 
 what is not collected from a long course of continued study, 
 but seized at once, by the power of grace, which hastily con¬ 
 summates its work. While I lay in darkness and blind night, 
 driven backwards and forwards by the waves of the world, 
 ignorant of the way of life, estranged from the truth and from 
 the light, what divine mercy promised for my salvation 
 seemed to me, in my then state of mind, a hard and impracti- 
 
 * Ad Donat. 
 
CONTRASTED WITH PAGAN. 
 
 347 
 
 cable tiling;—that a man should be born again , and, casting 
 oft' his former self, while his bodily nature remained the same, 
 become in soul and disposition another man. How, said I, 
 can such a change be possible—that what is so deep-rooted 
 within should be extirpated at once? Entangled in the many 
 eiTors of my earlier life, from which I could see no deliverance, 
 I abandoned myself to my besetting sins, and, despairing 0 f 
 amendment, nurtured the evil within me as if it belonged to 
 my nature. But when, after the stains of my former life had 
 been washed away in the laver of regeneration, light from on 
 high was shed abroad on a heart now freed from guilt, made 
 clear and pure; when I breathed the spirit of heaven, and 
 was changed by the second birth into a new man, then did 
 that which before appeared so doubtful become most evident. 
 That lay open, which before had been shut to me; that was 
 light, where I had seen nothing but darkness; that became 
 easy, which before was impossible; practicable, which before 
 seemed impracticable; so that I could understand how it was 
 that, being born in the flesh, I had lived subject to sin—lead¬ 
 ing a worldly life, whereas the life I now began to live was 
 the commencement of a life proceeding from God, and quick¬ 
 ened by the Holy Spirit. From God, from God , I repeat, 
 proceeds all we are now able to do ; from Him we derive life 
 and power.” Justin Martyr also thus describes the change 
 produced in Christians :*—“ We, who were once slaves of 
 lust, have now delight only in purity of morals; we, who 
 once practised arts of magic, have consecrated ourselves to the 
 Eternal and Good God ; we, who once prized gain above all 
 things, now give even all that we have to the common use, and 
 share it with every one that is in want; we, who once hated 
 and murdered one another, and on account of differences of 
 customs would not share our hearth with strangers, do now, 
 since the appearance of Christ, live in common with them; we 
 pray for our enemies ; we seek to teach them even who hate us 
 without cause so to order their lives according to Christ’s 
 glorious doctrine that they may hold the joyful hope of receiv¬ 
 ing like blessings with us from God, the Lord of all.” Origen, 
 in the same way, appeals to the effects wrought by Christianity 
 in the communities scattered through the world, as evidence of 
 the truth of the evangelical history, “ The work of Jesus,” 
 
 * Apolog. II. 
 
348 
 
 MERE PROFESSING CHRISTIAN'S. 
 
 he says,* “ reveals itself 
 
 all mankind, where exist 
 
 I 
 
 churches of God, founded by Jesus, consisting of men reclaimed 
 from a thousand vices; and still further, the name of Jesus 
 produces a wonderful mildness, decency of manners, humanity, 
 goodness, and gentleness in those who embrace the faith in God 
 and Christ, and of the judgment to come, not hypocritically, 
 for the sake of worldly advantage and human ends, but in sin¬ 
 cerity and in truth.” 
 
 As the contrast of Christianity with paganism—which is 
 none other than that of the old with the new man—is more 
 strongly marked in some periods of the life of the same indivi¬ 
 dual than in others, so was it also in comparing the Christian 
 life with the pagan as a whole; for the opposition now stood 
 forth open and undisguised, since paganism did not as yet 
 seek to hide itself under any foreign guise. To this contrast 
 Origen referred when he said, “ Compared with the communi¬ 
 ties among whom they dwell, the communities of the Christians 
 are as lights in the world.” j" 
 
 The inducements to a mere outward Christianity that arose 
 in later times,—the worldly advantages attached to the pro¬ 
 fession of Christianity as the religion of the state,—habit, which 
 leads so many without any special reasons or inward vocation 
 to adhere to the religion of their fathers,—all this, in the period 
 of which we treat—especially the early part of it—could effect 
 nothing for Christianity. The majority of Christians forsook 
 a religion recommended to them by education, by the reverence 
 for antiquity, by the power of habit, by the worldly benefits 
 attached to its observance, for one which had against it 
 everything that was in favour of the other, and which from 
 the very first required of them many sacrifices, and exposed 
 them to many dangers and sufferings. 
 
 Still we must know very little of human nature to believe 
 that in any period whatever there could be a total absence of 
 causes that tend to produce a conscious or unconscious hypo¬ 
 crisy in the reception of Christianity. Even in tins period 
 there existed many such inducements, particularly in those 
 
MERE PROFESSING CHRISTIANS. 
 
 349 
 
 longer intervals of peace which the church occasionally enjoyed. 
 Thus Origen says, “There has always been a great diversity 
 among those who sought Jesus, for all did not seek him in 
 the genuine way, for the sake of their own salvation, and to 
 receive advantage from Him. There are those who seek 
 Jesus from various wrong motives. Hence it is, too, that they 
 alone have found peace with Him, who sought Him in the 
 right way—of whom it may with propriety be said that they 
 sought Him as the Word which was in the beginning and was 
 with God, and for the purpose of obtaining from him fellow¬ 
 ship with the Father.” * The charity, too, of the Christians 
 offered a strong temptation to many to add themselves to the 
 church without being Christians by conviction and in the 
 temper of their minds. This may be inferred from the passage 
 last cited from Origen; and Clemens of Alexandria, too, 
 speaks of those who, for the sake of temporal advantages, 
 hypocritically made profession of Christianity.f 
 
 But to pass over these pretended Christians, even those 
 hearts on which some seed of the gospel had lodged still 
 illustrated our Lord’s parable of the sower. Not in every 
 heart that the seed fell on did it find the congenial soil in 
 which it could spring up immediately and bring forth fruit. 
 In this period, as in all others, there would be those who had 
 been for a moment touched by the power of truth, but who, 
 not making a right use of the impressions they had received, 
 proved faithless to the truth, and, instead of consecrating to 
 it their whole life, wished to serve God and the world at 
 the same time, and so became at last once more completely 
 enslaved to the world. He who did not watch his own heart, 
 who did not constantly, with fear and trembling, seek, under 
 the guidance of the divine Spirit, to separate in his inmost 
 being that which is of the Spirit from what was of the flesh, 
 was exposed to the same causes of dangerous self-delusion 
 as others, and consequently to all the temptations to sin which 
 arise therefrom. There are certain general sources of self- 
 delusion, having their seat in human nature itself, to which 
 ultimately all particular forms of it may be referred. If these 
 
 * Ol’lg. T. XIX. ill Joll. S. 3 l E t<r) yccg KoCi hci'tu. (jluqicc; dveotfi&ruKulois 
 
 rou xccaou rfpoSwus fyrouvrts <rov ’lyrouv, 
 
 f Stromat. I. f. 272 : ' r ** v vrgofTtctff'tv, xoivu- 
 
 vikov; rav ivrirnouuv <rov; x,<x,§(ti<rtc*)(Ai)>ou$ tw Xg/fra* 
 
350 
 
 SOURCES OF SELF-DELUSION. 
 
 are different in their outward manifestations, it is only accord¬ 
 ing to the difference of circumstances. But there are also 
 particular sources of self-delusion, which belong to different 
 ages of the world. And indeed all external circumstances, 
 even what, considered in itself, may be most advantageous for 
 man, is yet capable, if the true light has not risen within him, 
 or if he does not watch over his own heart, of becoming an 
 occasion of self-delusion. Of nothing outward, of no situation, 
 relations, or circumstances, can it be unconditionally affirmed* 
 that by them vital Christianity must necessarily be promoted. 
 That which may further it in one man, may to another be 
 an occasion of stumbling and a fall. 
 
 The striking opposition between the life of Christians and 
 that of pagans contributed to preserve the purity of the Chris¬ 
 tian consciousness and conduct, and to guard both against 
 many a debasing admixture. But here, also, that °what 
 awakened many Christian virtues, and in general served to 
 promote the Christian sentiments in some, became to others 
 a source of self-delusion, as soon as they began to fancy that 
 by a stern rejection of everything pagan they could satisfy all 
 the requisitions of Christianity, and so made of this an opus 
 operatum. They were thus led to understand the warfare 
 with the world in an outward sense, consequently to overlook 
 the internal conflict with the world within; and thus spiritual 
 pride and uncharitable fanaticism were fostered. 
 
 Many even of those who had been led to Christianity by a 
 deep-felt religious want fell into a mistake which hindered 
 them from rightly adopting the gospel, and from giving 
 themselves up to its divine intrinsic power. The longing 
 after a reconciliation with God and forgiveness of sin lay, 
 as we have already seen, at the root of much of the super¬ 
 stition of this period ; but this longing presented itself as yet 
 under a rude and carnal shape. Such a craving eagerly wel¬ 
 comed the annunciation of a Redeemer, and the promise of 
 the cleansing of all sin by baptism ; but this was the very 
 source of the delusion which carnally misapprehended what 
 Christianity proposed. Such persons sought in Christ, not a 
 Saviour from sin, but the bestower of an outward and magical 
 annihilation of sin. Transferring their pagan notions to 
 Christianity, they sought in baptism a magical lustration, 
 which should render them at once wholly pure. Without 
 
SUPERFICIAL VIEWS OF CHRISTIANITY. 351 
 
 doubt that outward view of the church and the sacraments, of 
 which we have already spoken, presented a support to this 
 erroneous notion. lienee it was that many who meant to 
 embrace Christianity delayed their baptism for a long time, 
 that they might meanwhile surrender themselves without dis¬ 
 turbance to then’ pleasures, hoping to be made quite pure at 
 last by the rite of baptism. Against such delusions Tertul- 
 lian thus expresses himself :*—“ How foolish, how wrong it is, 
 to put off the duty of repentance, and yet expect the pardon of 
 sin; that is exactly, not to pay the price, and yet reach out 
 the hand for the goods: for it has pleased the Lord to fix this 
 price on the forgiveness of sin. As, then, those that sell, first 
 examine the money which is offered for the goods, to see 
 that it is neither worn, filed, nor counterfeit, so we may sup¬ 
 pose that the Lord also first makes trial of our penitence 
 before he bestows on us so inestimable a treasure as eternal life. 
 The divine grace, the forgiveness of sin, remain unimpaired 
 for all who will come to baptism ; but we must do our part 
 in order to become capable of receiving it. Thou mayest, it is 
 true, easily steal into baptism, and by thy protestations deceive 
 him whose business it is to confer it on thee. But God 
 watches over his own treasure,—he -will never suffer it to be 
 surreptitiously obtained by the unworthy. In whatever dark¬ 
 ness thou mayest veil thy work, yet God is light. But many 
 fancy that God must perform, even to the unworthy, what he 
 has once promised, and thus turn his free grace into a debt.” 
 Tertullian appeals to experience in proof that those who come 
 in this spirit to baptism cannot manifest the fruits of Chris¬ 
 tianity, and that such persons, building their house on the sand, 
 often fall away from their steadfastness. Against such people 
 Origen remarks that the whole benefit of baptism depends on 
 the disposition of the recipient and on the truth of the penitence 
 with which lie comes to this ordinance ; that, on the other hand, 
 in him who is destitute of such penitence, baptism redounds only 
 
 lu his book de pcenitentia, c. 6 : Quam ineptum, quam iniquum, 
 pceuitentiam non adimplere et veniam delictorum sustinere, hoc est, pre- 
 tium non exhibere, ad mercedem manum emittere. Hoc cnim pretio 
 Dominus veniam addicere instituit; hac pcenitentiac compensatione redi- 
 mendam proponit impunitatem. Si ergo qui venditant, prius minimum, 
 quo paciscuntur, examinant, ne scalptus, neve rasus, ne adulter, etiam 
 Dommiim credimus, poenitentiae probationem prius inire, tautam nobis 
 mercedem perennis scilicet vitae concessurum. 
 
SUPERFICIAL VIEWS OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 to condemnation ; that the spirit of renovation therefore which 
 accompanies baptism is not shared by all.* In order to 
 guard against the mistake of such seeming Christians, Cyprian, 
 in his Collection of testimonies for a layman (libri testimom- 
 orum) having laid down the position that no man can attain 
 to the kingdom of God unless baptized and regenerated, adds, 
 
 “ It is, however, nothing to be baptized, and to receive the 
 communion, if the person does not in his life give evidence o 
 reformation ”t And he cites in proof of this, from the New 
 Testament, the following appropriate passages : 1 Cor ix. ^4 ; 
 Matt. iii. 10, v. 16, vii. 22; Philipp, n. 15. He then pro¬ 
 ceeds to say that “ even the baptized person will lose the 
 grace bestowed, unless he continues pure from sin ;” citing in 
 evidence the following passages of warning: John v. 14, 1 
 
 Cor. iii. 17; 2 Cor. xv. 2. . . ... 
 
 It belonged, indeed, to the essence of Christianity, that 
 while it could become all things to all men, and adapt itself to 
 the most different and opposite circumstances of human nature, 
 it could condescend even to wholly sensuous modes of appre¬ 
 hending divine things, in order, by the power of a divine life , 
 working from within, gradually to spiritualize them. In our 
 estimate, therefore, of the religious phenomena of these primi¬ 
 tive times, we should be on our guard against allowing the sen¬ 
 suous modes of feeling and thinking which such men brought 
 with them from their habits and associations to bias our judg¬ 
 ment respecting those who might really be wanting m nothing 
 but the appropriate vessel to receive the transcendent divine 
 element that filled their inner life. In this respect the great 
 savin 0 " of the apostle may often have found its application, 
 that the divine treasure was received—and for a season pie- 
 served—in earthen vessels, that the abundant power might e 
 of God and not of man. When, however, in men of this kind 
 the sensuous element greatly predominated, and they would 
 not surrender to the purifying influences of the Spirit of 
 Christ, then must every motion of the higher life necessarily 
 have become vitiated by this sensuous element, and in the end 
 wholly suppressed. Every Christian quality was transformed 
 into some carnal shape and secularized ; was thus divested of 
 
 f L. III. c?*25, 26: Parum esse baptizari et eucharistiam accipere, 
 nisi quis factis et opere proficiat. 
 
SUPERFICIAL VIEWS OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 353 
 
 its true meaning. Thus they apprehended Christ and his 
 kingdom. Even though the expectation of some future state 
 of sensual bliss, of which their excited imaginations drew pic¬ 
 tures ravishing to their fleshly minds, gave them the strength 
 to deny the pleasures of the moment, and even to face tortures 
 and death, yet they might notwithstanding be strangers to 
 the true ^ nature of the new birth, by which alone the kino-- 
 dom of God can be entered ; they were wanting in the spirit 
 of illuminating love. 1 
 
 bar be it from us, then, to look for any such manifestation 
 of the church in which it should be found without spot or 
 blemish—a state never to be realized till the final consumma¬ 
 tion. Nor do the apologists of Christianity in this period 
 deny ike existence of such blemishes, I hey acknowledge that 
 among those who called themselves Christians were some who 
 by their lives contradicted the essence of Christianity and mave 
 occasion to the heathen to blaspheme; only they declare 'that 
 such were not recognised as Christians by the Christian 
 chuiches ; and they challenge the heathen to judge every man 
 by his life, and to chastise those whose morals deserved it 
 .wherever they found them. Thus Justin Martyr and Ter- 
 tullian express themselves.* The latter says, “If you assert 
 that the Christians are, in avarice, in riotousness, in dishonesty, 
 the worst of men, we do not deny that some are so. In the 
 whitest skin some freckle doubtless may be discovered.” But 
 let us not be led away by these blemishes on the surface of the 
 church, to overlook the heavenly beauty which shone through 
 them all. When the eye is fixed exclusively on the one*or 
 the other, the picture may be easily worked up to a perfect 
 ideal, or to a distorted caricature. An unbiassed observation 
 will avoid both extremes. 
 
 That which our Lord himself, in his last conversation with 
 Jus disciples, declared to be the mark by which his disciples 
 were always to be distinguished—the mark of their fellow¬ 
 ship with Him and His Father in heaven, and the mark of His 
 glory dwelling among them—namely, that they should love 
 one another,—this was the prominent mark of the first Christian 
 communion, and one which chiefly struck the very heathens as 
 remarkable. The titles of “brother” and “sister,” which 
 the Christians gave to each other, were not empty names. 
 
 * Ad nationes, 1. I. c. 5. 
 
354 
 
 PROMINENT VIRTUES 
 
 The kiss of brotherhood, which, after baptism, was given 
 to every one on his reception into the church, by the Chris¬ 
 tians into whose immediate fellowship he then entered 
 which the members of the same church bestowed on each other 
 just before the celebration of the communion, and with which 
 'every Christian saluted his brother, even when he saw 
 him for the first time—this was no unmeaning form, but 
 it was originally the expression of Christian feelings a token 
 of the relationship which Christians believed to subsist among 
 one another. It was this fact, as we have already had occa¬ 
 sion to remark, which, in a cold and selfish age, .struck the 
 pagans with wonder—that men differing by nation, lank, 
 circumstances, and education should be so intimately bound 
 together, that the stranger who arrived at any city should, as 
 soon as, by bi g ppist ola formata. he had made himself known 
 to the Christians of the place as a brother beyond suspicion, 
 find at once, from those to whom he was personally unknown, 
 all brotherly sympathy and support. 
 
 The care of providing for the support and maintenance of 
 strangers, of the poor, the sick, and the aged, of widows and 
 orphans, and of those who were in prison on account of their 
 faith, devolved on the whole church. This was one of the 
 main purposes for which the collection of voluntary couti ibu- 
 tions, during public worship, was instituted; and the charity 
 of individuals, moreover, led them to vie with each other 
 in doing still more. In particular, it was considered as one of 
 the duties of the Christian matron to provide for the poor, for 
 the brethren languishing in prison, and to show hospitality r to 
 strangers. Accordingly the hindrances to the discharge of 
 such Christian virtues is, by Tertullian, reckoned among the 
 disadvantages of a mixed marriage. “ What heathen,” says 
 he, “ will suffer his wife to go about from street to street and 
 into the houses of strangers and the meanest of hovels, for the 
 purpose of visiting the brethren ? Will he allow his wife to 
 steal into the dungeon to kiss the chain of the martyr? If 
 a brother arrives from abroad, what reception will he meet 
 with in the house of the stranger ?* If alms are to be 
 
 * Tertullian seems to lay a peculiar emphasis on the word “ stranger, 
 
 _aliena domo, in the house which, to a Christian, is a stranger’s,— 
 
 whereas the house of a Christian matron ought not to be a straDger s 
 house to him. 
 
OF THE CHRISTIANS. 
 
 355 
 
 bestowed, storehouse and cellar are shut fast.”* On the 
 other hand, he counts it among the blessings of a marriae-e 
 between Christians, that the wife is at liberty to visit the sick 
 and relieve the needy, and needs not to be straitened or per- 
 p lex eel in the bestowal of her charities. *(* 
 
 And this active brotherly love of each church was not confined 
 to its own immediate circle ; it extended even to the wants of the 
 church in distant lands. On urgent occasions of this kind the 
 bishops appointed special collections. They appointed fasts, in 
 order that the very poorest even of the flock, by denying them¬ 
 selves their daily food, might be able to contribute to the com¬ 
 mon need. } When the churches of the provincial towns were 
 too poor to meet any distress, they had recourse to the wealthiest 
 church of the metropolis. For instance, in Numidia, certain 
 Christians men and women, having been carried away captive 
 by their barbarian neighbours, and the Numidian churches 
 being unable to contribute the sum required for their ransom 
 application was made to the more wealthy church of the areat 
 capital of North Africa. Cyprian, the bishop of Carthafe at 
 the time, very shortly raised, by collection, more than 'four 
 thousand dollars, § and transmitted the whole to the Numidian 
 bishops, with a letter full of the spirit of Christian brotherly 
 affection. || “In afflictions of this sort,” he writes to thorn 
 who would not feel pained, who would not look on the dis¬ 
 tress of his brother as his own, when the apostle Paul tells us 
 1 one member suffer, all the members suffer with it;’ and 
 again, \\ ho is weak and I am not weak ’ ? Wherefore 
 m the present case also we must regard the captivity of our 
 brethren as our own, and the distress of those now in peril as 
 our own, since we are bound together into one body P And 
 not love alone, but religion, ought to urge and stimulate us to 
 redeem the brethren who are members of ourselves. For the 
 apostle Paul again, in another place, asks, £ Know ye not that 
 
 m YOu'!’ e W f mi> e U G ° d ’ ^ that the Spirit 0f G " d dwelleth 
 m you. We ought in such a case as this, if love alone is not 
 
 enough to impel us to aid our brethren, to’remember taiHe 
 * Ad uxorem. ]. II. c . 4. 
 
 sine tomento. : Vishatur ’ indi S ens sustentatur, eleemosyn* 
 
 § oestertia centum millia nnmmorum. || gg 
 
 2 A 2 ' 
 
356 
 
 BROTHERLY LOVE 
 
 the temple of God which is suffering captivity, and that it 
 does not become us, by delay, and disregard of what is 
 in truth our own distress, to suffer the temple of God to 
 remain long in captivity. And since the same apostle tells us, 
 that ‘ as many of you as are baptized have put on Christ,’ we 
 ought to see Christ in our captive brethren, and in them to 
 redeem Him from captivity Who has redeemed us from death ; 
 so that lie Who delivered us from the jaws of Satan, and Who 
 now Himself dwells and abides in us, may be rescued from the 
 hands of the barbarians ; and that He may be ransomed for a 
 sum of money, Who, by His blood and cross, has ransomed us, 
 and Who has suffered this calamity to happen in order to try 
 our faith—whether each one of us is ready to do for others 
 what, if he himself were captured by barbarians, he would 
 wish to have done for himself. For who that respects the 
 claims of humanity and of mutual love, ought not, if he is a 
 father, so to regard the matter as if his own children were 
 among the captives, and, if a husband, as though his own wife 
 were there, to the grief and shame of the marriage bond ? We 
 hope, indeed, that we may never again be visited with a like 
 affliction, and that, by the mighty power of the Lord, our 
 brethren may be saved from like calamities. But should any 
 similar misfortune again happen to try the love and faith 
 of our hearts, do not hesitate to inform us of it by letter, for 
 be assured that, while it is the prayer of all the brethren 
 here that nothing of the kind may again occur, they are yet 
 ready, should it be necessary, cheerfully and abundantly to 
 assist you.” 
 
 That which gave to such works a truly Christian cha¬ 
 racter was indeed nothing else than the temper, which here 
 expresses itself, of Christian love simply following the impulse 
 from within. This Christian character ceased to be present in 
 its purity as soon as the act of charity had an outward end in 
 view, when it was converted into a ground of merit before God 
 as a means of expiating sin. And this corrupt element found 
 entrance as soon as the Christian consciousness became in 
 any way diverted from its central point, and ceased to refer to 
 Christ as the sole ground for salvation. In proportion as this 
 reference to Christ, which that resting (already noticed) on 
 the mere outward manifestation of the church had a ten¬ 
 dency to throw into the shade, was forgotten, the value rose 
 
AND CHARITY. 
 
 357 
 
 which men set on their own deeds, and on the merit of good 
 works. This also must be considered as a reaction of that 
 Jewish principle which had been depressed by the independent 
 development of Christianity among the Gentiles, but which 
 afterwards sprang up again. Jn the third century we observe 
 both modes of contemplating acts of charity existing concur¬ 
 rently, and occasionally crossing each other; as, for example, 
 in Cyprian’s tract de opere et eleemosynis, written with a 
 view of exciting the Christians, many of whom had grown cold 
 in brotherly love, to the exercise of this virtue. To a 
 father of a family, who, when invited to some charitable act, 
 excuses himself on the plea of a large family, he says, “ Seek 
 for your sons another father than a frail and mortal one, even 
 Him who is an almighty and everlasting Father of all spiritual 
 children. Let Him be the guardian and provider for your 
 children let Him, with His divine majesty, be their protector 
 against all the wrongs of the world. You, who are striving to 
 secure for them an earthly rather than a heavenly inheritance, 
 seeking to commend your sons to Satan rather than to Christ, 
 commit a double sin ; you neglect to obtain for your children 
 the help of their heavenly Father, and you teach them to love 
 their earthly inheritance more than Christ.” 
 
 In times of public calamity the contrast was strikingly 
 displayed in the great cities between the cowardly selfishness 
 of the pagans and the self-sacrificing brotherly love of the 
 Christians. Let us hear how the bishop Dionysius of Alex¬ 
 andria describes this contrast, as it was manifested in the 
 conduct of the Christians and the heathens respectively during 
 a contagion which raged in that great capital in the reign of 
 the emperor Gallienus. “To the pagans this pestilence 
 appeared a most frightful calamity that left them no hope; 
 not so to us, but rather a special trial and exercise of our faith. 
 Most of the brethren, in the fulness of their brotherly love, 
 spared not themselves. Their only anxiety was for one ano¬ 
 ther; and as they tended the sick without thinking of them¬ 
 selves, ministering readily to their wants for Christ’s sake, 
 they cheerfully gave up their own lives with them. Many 
 died after having, by their care, restored others from the 
 sickness. Some of the best among our brethren, priests, dea¬ 
 cons, and distinguished laymen, thus ended their lives; so that 
 such a death, being the fruit of great piety and strong faith, 
 
358 
 
 CHRISTIAN BROTHERLY LOVE. 
 
 seems scarcely inferior to martyrdom. Many who took the 
 bodies of Christian brethren into their arms and to their 
 bosoms, in order to compose their features and bury them with 
 all due attention, afterwards followed them in death. But with 
 the heathens it was quite different: when any showed the first 
 symptoms of the disease, they drove from them away—they 
 fled from their dearest friends. Many of them cast the half¬ 
 dead into the streets, and left the dead unburied, making it their 
 chief care to get out of the reach of the contagion, which 
 however, in spite of every precaution, they could hardly 
 escape.” * 
 
 The Christians at Carthage, in like manner, distinguished 
 themselves from the heathen world by their disinterested con¬ 
 duct during the pestilence which at a somewhat earlier period 
 ravaged North Africa in the reign of Gallus. The pagans, 
 out of fear, deserted their own sick and dying; the streets were 
 full of dead bodies, which none dared to bury. Avarice alone 
 overcame the fear of death ; abandoned men ventured to make 
 a profit of the misfortunes of their fellow-men. The pagans, 
 meanwhile, instead of being brought by this calamity to a 
 sense of their own guilt and depravity, accused the Christians, 
 those enemies of the gods, as the cause of it.j" But Cyprian 
 exhorted his church to look upon the desolating scourge as 
 a trial of their character4 “ How necessary is it, my dearest 
 
 brethren,” said he to them, “ that this pestilence which is 
 come, bringing with it death and destruction, should try the 
 minds of men ! It comes to show whether the healthy will 
 take care of the sick ; whether relations have a tender regard 
 for each other; ivheiher masters rvill take care of their sick 
 slaves.” However, that the Christians should simply show the 
 spirit of brotherly love towards each other was not enough to 
 satisfy a bishop who took the Great Shepherd for his example. 
 Calling his church together, he addressed them thus:—“ If we 
 do good only to our own, we do no more than the heathens 
 and the publicans. But if we are the children of God, who 
 makes his sun to rise and sends his rain on the just and on the 
 unjust, w r ho scatters his gifts and blessings not barely on his 
 own, but even on those whose thoughts are far from him, we 
 must show it by our actions, by striving to be perfect even as 
 * Euseb. 1. VII. c. 22. 
 
 t Cyprian, ad Demetriamim. i Lib. de mortalitate. 
 
our Father in heaven is perfect, blessing those that curse us, 
 and by doing good to them that despitc-fully use us.” En¬ 
 couraged by his fatherly words, the members of the church 
 quickly divided the work among them. The rich gave of 
 their substance, the poor contributed their bodily labour, 
 and in a short time the bodies that filled the streets were 
 buried, and the city delivered from the danger of a universal 
 infection. 
 
 There were opposite tendencies to sin which Christianity 
 taught men to avoid, and between which the development of 
 the Christian life had to steer. In these times of despotism, 
 a servile spirit that gave to the creature the honour which is 
 due to God alone, and a slavish obedience that sprang only 
 from fear, were frequently united with a -contempt for the laws 
 of the state wherever they came in conflict with selfish interest 
 and where the restraint of fear did not exist. But Christianity, 
 by the positive spirit which it gave rise to, secured men against 
 both these errors. It taught them to render an obedience 
 that had its root in the love of God and pointed ultimately to 
 Him ,—therefore a free obedience, as far removed from a 
 slavish fear of man on the one hand, as from lawless self-will 
 on the other. The same spirit of Christianity which taught 
 man to obey for God’s sake, taught also that God should be 
 obeyed rather than man, and that every consideration, even of 
 property and life itself, should be disregarded in all cases where 
 human power demanded an'obedience contrary to the laws and 
 ordinances of God. In such cases the Christians displayed that 
 true spirit of freedom, against which despotic power could avail 
 nothing. We have already had occasion, in the first section of 
 this history, to notice the effects of the Christian spirit in both 
 respects. In this sense Justin Martyr- says,* “ Tribute and 
 custom we above all others are everywhere ready to pay to 
 your appointed officers, as our Master has taught us (St. Mat¬ 
 thew xxii. 21). Therefore we pray to God alone; but you 
 we cheerfully serve in all other things, since we acknowledge 
 you as rulers of men.” Tertullian could boldly appeal to the 
 fact that what the state lost in its revenue from the temples 
 by the spread of Christianity was made up by what it gained 
 in the way of tribute and customs, through the honesty of the 
 Christians as contrasted with the frauds so commonly resorted 
 
360 
 
 RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 to in paying them * To those words of Christ (St. Matthew 
 xxu ; 21 )> which were ever on the lips and in the hearts of 
 Christians as a maxim of daily life, he gives the following 
 interpretation, in opposition to those who took them, as he 
 supposed, in too wide and indefinite a sense:—“Let the 
 image of Caesar, which is on the coin, be rendered to Caesar; 
 and the image of God, which is in man, be given to God: 
 give, therefore, thy money to Caesar, but thyself to God; for 
 what will remain for God if all belongs to Caesar ?”f 
 
 The general principles on which men were bound to act ins 
 such a case could be easily laid down and easily deduced from 
 ‘he nature of Christianity, and on these general principles all 
 Christians were agreed. But the application of these prin¬ 
 ciples to particular cases was far more difficult; as, for instance, 
 in determining in every case where the line was to be 
 drawn between what belonged to Caesar and what belonged to 
 God—between what might be considered a matter of indiffer¬ 
 ence in a religious point of view, and what not. Heathenism 
 was, in fact, so closely mixed up with the whole civil and 
 social life, that it was not always easy to separate and distin¬ 
 guish the merely civil or social from the religious element. 
 In very much that had really sprung from a religious source, 
 its connection, however, with religion had long been forgotten, 
 and, remembered only by a few learned antiquarians, had long 
 faded away from the popular consciousness. + The question 
 therefore arose, whether, like others, such customs should be 
 considered as in themselves indifferent, and whether in such 
 matters men might follow the mere social or civil usages, or 
 whether they should set aside all other considerations on 
 account of the original connection of such customs with 
 heathenism. 
 
 Again, Christianity, while from its nature it must pass 
 sentence upon all ungodliness, recognises, on the other 
 hand, whatever is pure in human relations and institutions; 
 
 * Apolog. c. 42: Si ineatur (ratio), quantum vectigalibus pereat 
 fraude et mendacio vestrarum professionum. 
 
 t De idololatria, c. 15. 
 
 t See, for example, what Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria have 
 drawn from the stores of their own learning and the works of other lite¬ 
 rary men concerning the religious significance and allusion of the 
 custom of crowning,—things which assuredly would not easily occur to 
 men in common life. 
 
TO EXISTING INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 361 
 
 instead of rejecting them it would sanctify and ennoble them. 
 But then the question might arise in particular cases, what is 
 pure in human things, and therefore fit to be received into 
 union with Christianity; and what, having sprung originally 
 out of the corruption of human nature, and being in its essence 
 ungodly, must therefore be rejected ? Now, as Christianity 
 appeared as the new leaven in the old world, and was destined 
 to produce a new creation in an old one that had grown up out 
 of a very different principle of life, the question might the 
 more easily occur, which of its existing elements needed only 
 to be transformed and ennobled, and which must be wholly 
 destroyed? There might be much which, through the turn 
 and direction they had taken in a corrupt world, might seem 
 utterly at variance with the essence of Christianity ; but which, 
 by means of a different direction and use, might readily admit 
 of being brought into harmony with it. Now some persons 
 might condemn, together with the abuse, the good use even of 
 these things , while others, from a consideration of their good 
 use, might be led to approve the abuse of them. 
 
 Tin ally, many customs may have existed which could never 
 have found a place in a state of things that had grown out of 
 Christianity—which were altogether alien to pure Christianity 
 
 -but which, nevertheless, under the influence of the Christian 
 spirit, might be so modified and applied as to be divested 
 of whatever was incompatible with the essence of the Christian 
 faith. That religion which nowhere produced violent and con¬ 
 vulsive changes from without, but worked its reforms by 
 changing in the first place the inward sentiments,—whose 
 peculiar character it was to operate positively rather than 
 negatively—to displace and destroy no faster than it sub¬ 
 stituted something better,—might, by virtue of this its law of 
 action, suffer many of the existing customs to remain just as 
 they were, in their old defective forms, in order to infuse into 
 them a new spirit, which might throw them off, and create all 
 things new. 
 
 Hence, then, notwithstanding this agreement as to general 
 principles, disputes might well arise as to their application in 
 particular cases, according as men were led by their different 
 positions and tendencies of mind to take a different view of the 
 circumstances—disputes similar to those which subsequently 
 have arisen at various periods in missions among foreign tribes, 
 
362 
 
 RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 the organization of new churches, and the determination of 
 matters not essential (achaipopa). Men were liable to err in 
 such cases on both sides, either by too lax an accommodation 
 or by too stern an opposition. Undue predominance might be 
 allowed to the aggressive or to the assimilative power of 
 Christianity, which should both be intimately united to secure 
 the healthy development of life. The few excepted who had 
 already advanced farther in the true liberty of the gospel, 
 uniting deep Christian earnestness with the prudence and 
 clearness of science, the sincerer Christians were generally 
 more inclined to the extreme of stern reprobation than to that 
 of a false accommodation. Rather than run the risk of retain¬ 
 ing the corruption of heathenism which had attached to it, they 
 preferred to cast aside much which as heathens they had once 
 used in the service of sin and falsehood, even though it was 
 capable of another use. They willingly bid farewell to every¬ 
 thing which in their minds was associated with sin or with 
 pagan rites. They chose rather to go to extremes than to 
 forfeit a tittle of that Christianity which constituted their 
 jewel, the pearl for which they were willing to sell all they 
 had; as in general it is more natural for men, in the first 
 ardour of conversion, the first glow of love, whenever it is 
 genuine, to go too far in opposing the world than in yielding 
 to it. The church at large has to pass through the same 
 periods of development as the individual Christian. Accord- 
 in the development of the Christian life, the extreme 
 aggressive element must naturally first predominate. 
 
 As regards the controversy between the two parties, the one 
 appealed to the rule that men are bound to render unto 
 Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,—that, in matters pertaining 
 to civil order, obedience is due to the existing laws,—that 
 offence is not to be given unnecessarily to the heathens, nor 
 occasion afforded them to blaspheme the name of God,—but 
 that it is necessary to become all things to all men, in order 
 to win all to the gospel. The other party could not deny 
 that these were scriptural principles; but, they said, while we 
 are to consider all outward, earthly possessions as belonging 
 to the emperor, our hearts and our lives at any rate must 
 belong wholly to God. That which is the emperor’s ought 
 never to be put in competition with that which is God’s, "if 
 the injmiction that w T e should give the heathen no occasion to 
 
TO EXISTING INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 363 
 
 blaspheme the Christian name, must be so unconditionally 
 understood, it would be necessary to put aside Christianity 
 altogether. Let them calumniate us for ever, provided only 
 we give them no occasion for so doing by our unchristian con¬ 
 duct, and provided they accuse us only for what is essentially 
 Christian. We ought indeed, in eveiy proper sense, to 
 become all things to all men ; but yet never so as to become 
 worldly to worldly men ; for it is also said, “ It I yet please 
 men, I am not the servant of Christ.”* * * § We see plainly that 
 each of these two parties were right in the principles they 
 maintained ; the only question was to determine where these 
 principles found their right application. 
 
 While one party believed that they ought to avoid every¬ 
 thing which might excite attention among the heathens, and 
 consequently provoke them to resort to persecuting measures, 
 the other condemned all such prudence and reserve, as proof 
 of a temper that was either ashamed or afraid of public con¬ 
 fession. Clement, of Alexandria, speaks against those who, 
 whenever they met in the street, publicly saluted each other 
 with the brotherly kiss, and thus everywhere drew attention to 
 themselves as Christians. He calls it a foolish provocation of 
 the pagans.f He charges them with falsely wearing for 
 ostentation that Christian love which is an inward sentiment, 
 and with being unable to walk circumspectly, redeeming the 
 time, in which, however, it must be admitted, he makes a 
 wrong application of St. Paul’s words, in the fifth chapter 
 to the Ephesians.J 
 
 Whoever followed any trade which was contrary to the gene¬ 
 ral and recognised principles of Christianity was not admitted 
 to baptism till he had pledged himself to relinquish it.§ He 
 must either commence some new occupation in order to earn a 
 
 * Tertullian, de idololatria. 
 
 f Stl'OIU. III. f. 257 ; 0/ tca.ro. ra ; 'ohov; ru\ ay art dr cui arvatTi/.o) crap- 
 
 na; dvodrov ytfjjovri;, xaraifavuiv rot; ixros £‘vai (oovXo/jcivuv ouTi i \a^i'irr>i; 
 (jcinypovn %d(>iros. 
 
 X That they should fcutmtcas <pi\o<pttovl7cr§ai evvaBlv, l^ayoca^cy.ivo’j; <rov 
 
 xaipov. 
 
 § Apostol. Constit. 1. VIII. c. 31. Also, Council of Elvira, can. 62 : 
 Si auriga et pantomimus credere voluerint, placuit, ut prius actibus suis 
 renuntient, et tunc demum suscipiantur, ita ut ulterius ad ea non rever- 
 tantur. Qui si facere contra interdictum tentaverint, projiciantur ab 
 ecclesia. 
 
364 
 
 FORBIDDEN TRADES. 
 
 subsistence ; or if unable to do this, he was admitted upon the 
 list of the poor maintained by the church. Now among these 
 occupations were all that were in any way connected with 
 idolatry, or which were calculated to promote it; those, for 
 instance, of the artists and workmen who employed themselves 
 in making or adorning images of the gods. There were 
 doubtless many who, wishing to pursue these trades for a 
 livelihood, excused themselves on the ground that they were 
 far from worshipping the idols, that they did not consider 
 them as objects of religion, but simply as objects of art; 
 though it assuredly argued a peculiar coldness of religious 
 feeling thus to distinguish in these times what belonged to 
 art and what belonged to religion. Against such excuses 
 Tertullian exclaimed with pious warmth,'Assuredly you 
 are a worshipper of idols, when you make them to be wor¬ 
 shipped. It is true you bring to them no victim of other 
 things; but you make to them the offering of your mind; 
 your sweat is their drink-offerng,—the torch of your cunning 
 do you light up for them.” In the same class of employ¬ 
 ments were reckoned the various kind of astrology, the so- 
 called mathematici, aud_o£.magic^ at that time so lucrative. 
 
 A remarkable proof of the degree in which humane feelings 
 and interests among the Romans were repressed by the influ¬ 
 ence of exclusive political considerations is furnished by the 
 cruel spectacles of the ludi gladiatorii. But the feeling of 
 universal philanthropy which Christianity roused into life and 
 action must have struggled, from the first, against this cruel 
 custom, justified and sanctioned as it was by the established 
 laws and by the prevalent habits of thinking among the 
 Romans. Whoever frequented the gladiatorial shows and the 
 combats of wild beasts was, by the general law of the church, 
 excluded from the communion. Irenseus speaks of it with 
 horror as the utter renunciation of the Christian character 
 when certain individuals (belonging to the wildly fanatical and 
 antinomian sects of the Gnostics) did not even refrain from 
 participating in those bloody shows, alike hateful to God and 
 to men.f Cyprian, describing the joy of a Christian who, 
 having just escaped from the pollutions of heathenism, looks 
 
 * De idololatria, c. 6. 
 
 I Irenaeus, 1. I. C. 6 . 0; tviz irxpu. Q-cy xai a.v^^cdzroiz 
 
 rr,; ruv §-oicfx,a%m y.cu avloofovov Six; ivlov; auToji. 
 
GLADIATORIAL EXHIBITIONS. 
 
 365 
 
 back upon it from his new position, says,* “ If you cast your 
 eye on the cities, you behold an assembly of men more painful 
 than any solitude. . A combat of gladiators is in preparation, 
 t hat blood may satiate the lust of cruel eyes. A man is killed 
 tor the amusement of his fellow-men ; murder is turned into 
 an art, and crime not only perpetrated, but taught.” Tertul- 
 lian says to those pagans who defended the games of the 
 gladiators,f and who probably made it one of their arguments 
 that criminals condemned to death by the laws were most 
 frequently employed as the actors in them, “ It is well that 
 ciiminals should be punished ; as who but a criminal can deny? 
 And yet the innocent can never find pleasure in the punishment 
 of his neighbour ; it behoves him rather to grieve when a man, 
 his fellow, has become so guilty as to subject himself to so 
 cruel a death. But who is ready to vouch that it is always 
 the guilty who are thrown to the wild beasts, or condemned to 
 other kinds of death ; that innocence does not sometimes meet 
 with the same fate, through revenge on the part of the judge, 
 through the weakness of the advocate, or the force of torture ? 
 But even the gladiators , as you must at least allow, come not 
 to the combat as criminals, but as an offering to the public 
 pleasure. And even though we speak only of those who are 
 condemned to the gladiatorial combats, what is the wisdom of 
 this—that punishment, whose object ought to he to reform 
 those who are guilty of minor offences, should tend in fact to 
 make them murderers ? ” 
 
 But it was not the participation in these cruel amusements 
 that alone appeared to the Christians incompatible with their 
 calling. A similar condemnation was passed on all the public / 
 exhibitions of that period ; on the pantomimes, the drama, the 
 chariot and foot-races, and the various amusements of the 
 circus and the theatre. Such was the prevailing and passionate 
 fondness of the Romans at that time for theatrical entertain¬ 
 ments, that a man was at once looked upon as a Christian simply 1 
 it he absented himself wholly from the theatre.! Theatrical 
 spectacles were considered as an appendage of idolatry, by 
 virtue ot their origin from heathen rites, and of their connec¬ 
 tion v it Jr many of the pagan festivals. Among the pomps of 
 
 Ep. ad. Donat. ■!* Dg spcctaculis c 19 
 
 1 D° spectaculis, c. 24: Hinc vel maxime ethnici inteliigunt factum 
 Chnstianum, de repudio spectaculorum. 
 
366 
 
 PUBLIC SPORTS. 
 
 idolatry or devil-worship, ( 710/117117 cia/3o'Xov,) which the Chris¬ 
 tians, when enrolled in the ranks ol Christian soldiers, were 
 obliged to renounce by their baptismal vow, (the sacramentum 
 militim Christi,) these spectacles were particularly included. 
 Moreover, much occurred in them ’which was revolting to the 
 moral feelings and decency of Christians ; and even if this were 
 not the case, still the spending whole hours on mere nonsense— 
 the unholy spirit which reigned in these assemblies—the wild 
 uproar of the congregated multitude, seemed unsuited to the 
 holy seriousness of the Christian’s priestly character. The 
 Christians did, in truth, consider themselves as priests, conse¬ 
 crated for their whole life to God—as temples of the Holy 
 Spirit; whatever, therefore, was alien to that Spirit, for whose 
 indwelling they were to keep their hearts always ready, must 
 be avoided. “ God has commanded,” says Tertullian,* “ that 
 the Holy Spirit, as a Spirit essentially tender and gentle, should 
 be tended with tranquillity and gentleness, with quiet and 
 peace — that it should not be disturbed by passion, fury, 
 anger, and emotions of violent grief. How can such a spirit 
 consist with the spectacles? For no spectacle passes off with¬ 
 out some violent agitation of the passions. No one that goes 
 to the play thinks of anything else than to see and to be seen. 
 Is it possible, while listening to the declamation of the actor, 
 to think on the sentence of a prophet, or, in the midst of the 
 song of an eunuch, meditate on a psalm ? If every kind of 
 immodesty is abominable, how can we allow ourselves to listen 
 to that which, inasmuch as we know that every idle and 
 unprofitable word is condemned by our Lord, we dare not 
 speak?” Matt. xii. 36. Ephes. iv. 29, v. 4. 
 
 To Tertullian, who, in truth, was inclined to look upon all 
 art as a lie, which counterfeited the original nature which God 
 created, the whole system of spectacles appeared a mere art of 
 dissimulation and falsehood. “ The Creator of truth,” he said,f 
 “ loves nothing that is false,—all fiction is, to him, falsification. 
 He who condemns all hypocrisy will never pronounce him 
 o-ood who counterfeits voice, sex, age, love, anger, sighs, and 
 
 tears.’ . 
 
 Weak minds, who allowed themselves to be carried away by 
 the prevailing custom, though at issue with their Christian 
 feelings, into visiting such scenes, might be seriously injured 
 * De spectaculis, c. 15. t L. c. 
 
rUBLIC SPOUTS. 
 
 367 
 
 by impressions thus received, and, for a long while, robbed of 
 their peace. We find examples of a distempered state of 
 mind, similar to that of demoniacal possession, being brought 
 on by such inward distraction.* Others, after being prevailed 
 upon, in spite of conscience, by the love of pleasure, to indulge 
 once or twice in these amusements, contracted a new taste for 
 them, and, by a passionate fondness for the theatre, were, in the 
 end, gradually drawn back again to heathenism. + 
 
 The heathens and the more lightminded among the Chris¬ 
 tians were in the habit of pressing the more seriously disposed 
 with arguments like the following: Why should they withdraw 
 from these public amusements? Such outivarcl pleasures, 
 addressed to the eye and ear, may be quite consistent with reli¬ 
 gion in the heart. God is not wronged by man’s pleasure, which 
 is no sin when enjoyed in its proper time and place, without 
 detracting from the fear and the reverence of God in the heart.J 
 Thus Celsus, when he invites the Christians to join in the 
 public festivals, says to them, “God is the common God of 
 all,—he is good, in need of nothing, and a stranger to all 
 jealousy. What then should hinder men, however closely 
 devoted to him, from participating in the public festivals? Ӥ 
 To such arguments Tertullian replied that the very point for 
 us to show is, how these amusements cannot possibly a°ree 
 with true religion and with true obedience which is due to 
 the true God. 
 
 Others again, who, infected with a passion for these trifles, 
 sought for reasons by which to silence their conscience as 
 Christians, argued that in these spectacles nothing was em¬ 
 ployed but God’s gifts, which he had bestowed on men that they 
 
 . _ Foi examples see Tertullian de spectaculis, c. 26 : A woman who 
 visited the theatre came home from there in the sad condition of a person 
 demoniacally possessed. The evil spirit, having been adjured to tell 
 why it had taken possession of the soul of a Christian, said, or the 
 patient, who believed that she spoke in the name of the demon:—“In 
 this I did perfectly right, for I found her where my own kingdom is.” 
 Another, haying visited a theatre, had the night following a frightful 
 vision, and, in consequence probably of the alarm into which she was 
 thrown, died five days afterwards. 
 
 f L. c. c. 26: Quot documenta de his, qui, cum diabolo apud specta- 
 culo communicando, a Domino exciderunt! J L. c. c. 1. 
 
 § Orig. C. Cels. 1. VIII. c. 21: 'o ye Seas arfoun koivo; ayaSos ri 
 
 *, i**** xai jpS'ovov. T/ ouv xw\vu rolls paXicrru xaScotnaifjo'ivcvs 
 
 uurif xa.) ran 'bnfj.onXui io^ruv /utraXafifoanm; 
 
368 
 
 PUBLIC SPORTS. 
 
 might enjoy them. No passage of scripture, too, they observed, 
 could be adduced -where the shows were expressly forbidden. 
 As regarded the chariot race, there could assuredly be nothing 
 sinful in riding in a chariot, for Elijah rode in a chariot to 
 heaven. As to the theatre, music and dancing could not be 
 forbidden, for we read in scripture of choirs, stringed instru¬ 
 ments, cymbals, trumpets and shawms, harp and psaltery; we 
 read of David dancing and playing before the ark, 1 Chron.xvi. 
 29 ; and the apostle St. Paul, in exhorting Christians, borrows 
 images from the stadium and the circus.* Eph. vi. 13; 2 Tim. 
 iv. 7 , 8 ; Philip, iii. 14. At this sophistry Tertullian exclaims, 
 “How acute in reasoning does human ignorance imagine itself, 
 especially when it is afraid of losing some of the pleasures and 
 amusements of the world ! ” In answer to the first argument 
 he says, “ To be sure, all things are the gift of God ; but the 
 question is, for what end has God given them, and how may 
 they be so used as to answer their true end ? What is their 
 original creation, and what the abuse of them by sin ? for 
 there is a wide difference between original purity of nature 
 and its corruption—between its Creator and its perverter.” 
 To the second he replies, “ Though scripture contains no 
 express verbal prohibition of theatrical exhibtions, yet it con¬ 
 tains the general principles from which this prohibition follows 
 naturally. All that is there said generally against the lusts of 
 the flesh and of the eye must be applied also to this particular 
 kind of lust. If we can maintain that wrath, cruelty, and 
 rudeness are .permitted in scripture, we are at liberty to visit 
 the amphitheatre. If we are such as we call ourselves, then 
 let us, if we can, take delight in the shedding of human blood.” 
 Against such as wrested the scriptures in the manner above 
 described, the author of the treatise ‘ De Spectaculis , 5 among 
 the works of Cyprian, uses the following language : “ I can 
 justly say it were better that such persons knew nothing of 
 the scriptures than to read them thus; for the language and 
 examples which ought to lead men to the virtues of the 
 gospel are by them perverted to the defence of vice ; for these 
 similes were employed for the purpose of inflaming our zeal in 
 things profitable, while the heathens display so much eagerness 
 on trifles. From the general mles laid down in scripture 
 reason itself can deduce those conclusions which are not 
 * The tract de spectaculis, among the works of Cyprian. 
 
PUBLIC SPORTS. 
 
 369 
 
 expressly set forth.* Only let each commune with his own 
 heart,—let him take counsel only with that character which 
 as a Christian, he ought to bear, and then he will never do 
 anything unbecoming the Christian, for conscience, while 
 it depends on its own judgment and not on another’s, will 
 always prevail.” j 
 
 Tertullian invites the Christians to compare with those 
 empty pleasures of the heathen world, the true, spiritual plea¬ 
 sures which had become theirs through faith.| “ Tell me 
 
 pray, have we any other desire than that which was the desire 
 of the apostle, to depart, viz., from the world, and be with the 
 -Lord i Wherever thy wishes are, there are thy pleasures. But 
 v hy art thou so unthankful, that thou art not satisfied with 
 and dost not acknowledge, the many and great pleasures which 
 even now are bestowed on thee by the Lord ? For what is 
 there more joyous than reconciliation with God, thy Father 
 anti thy Lord—than the revelation of truth, the knowledge of 
 error, the forgiveness of so many past sins ? What greater 
 p ensure than the contempt of such pleasures, and of the whole 
 w orld—than true freedom, a pure conscience, a blameless life, 
 and fearlessness of death—than to be able to tread under foot 
 the gods of the heathen world, and to cast out evil spirits, 
 to heal diseases, and to pray for revelations ? These are the 
 pleasures, these the entertainments of the Christian ; holy 
 everlasting, which cannot be bought with money. And what 
 must those be which eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, 
 and which it hath not entered into the heart of man to con- 
 ceive ‘ *ke manner, the author of the above-cited treatise 
 
 among the works of Cyprian remarks, “ He can never look 
 ?V 1 ponder on the works of man, who has come to know 
 himself as a child of God. He casts himself down from the 
 pinnacle of Ins true nobility who ever looks with wonder upon 
 anything else than the Lord. Let the faithful Christian give 
 ail diligence to the study of the holy scriptures, and there he 
 w i nt worthy spectacles of faith,—shows which even he 
 w «o has i°st his eyesight may enjoy.” 
 
 If merely to be a spectator of these theatrical entertain- 
 
 .Ratio docet, quae scriptura conticuit. 
 
 • k ,nus q ui sque cum persona professionis sum loquatnr et nihil unquam 
 indecorum geret. I lus enim ponderis habebit conscientia, quae nu li se 
 alten debebit, msi sibi. } De s.pectaculis c 29. 
 
 VOL. I. 2 B 
 
370 
 
 PUBLIC SPORTS—SLAVERY. 
 
 ments was considered wrong by the Christians, much more 
 would the profession of an actor be condemned. In the time 
 of Cyprian it happened that an actor became a Christian, and 
 them for the sake of gaining a livelihood, instructed boys in 
 the art which he formerly practised. Cyprian was consulted 
 whether such a person could be suffered to remain in the com¬ 
 munion of the church, and he gave his opinion strongly against 
 it. Since Cyprian’s position as a bishop naturally led him to 
 appeal to the Old Testament as much as to the New for rules 
 of life, lie referred first of all to Deut. xxii. 5. If a man, he 
 said, is forbidden even to put on the garment of a woman, 
 and a curse is pronounced on any one who does so, “ how 
 much more criminal must it appear to form the man , by an 
 immodest art, to effeminate and unseemly gestures, to falsify 
 the workmanship of God by the arts of the devil! If such 
 a one,” he adds, “ pleads poverty in excuse, he, together with 
 the rest who are maintained by the church, can have Ms 
 necessities supplied, provided he can content himself with a 
 homelier but more innocent fare. He must not, however, 
 suppose that he is to be paid for leaving off his sin, since he 
 does this, not for our sake, but for his own. If the church 
 where he lives is too poor to support him, let him come to 
 Carthage : here he may receive whatever is necessary for food 
 and raiment, provided only he teach not what is pernicious to 
 those even who are without the pale of the church,^ but learn 
 himself, within the church, what tends to salvation.”* 
 
 Among those social relations which were foreign to the 
 nature of Christianity, and which Christianity found existing 
 at the time of its first propagation, was that of slavery. By 
 the alienation of man from God, the original unity of his race 
 was disturbed. Mankind, destined to unity, had been split 
 into a multitude of nations, each striving to make itself felt as 
 the whole, and developing itself in opposition to all the others. 
 Thus the consciousness of a common human dignity was lost, 
 and it became possible for man to be placed in that relation 
 to Ms fellow M which nature alone should stand to humanity, 
 and natural tMngs to the individual.! A relation so unnatural 
 
 * Ep. 61, ad Euchrat. .. 
 
 f So says he who has most distinctly expressed the ethical and poli¬ 
 tical notions of the ancient world, Aristotle, Eth. Nicomach. 1. IX. c. 
 13. The relation between master and slave is like that between the 
 
SLAVERY. 371 
 
 could only be justified by assuming that the differences a mono¬ 
 nations, which originated in sin subsequently to the first foi° 
 mation of man, and winch is the source of the disparity of 
 intellectual and moral powers, was something original. It 
 was impossible, therefore, any longer to recognise the funda¬ 
 mental identity of human nature, and one class of beino- s 
 consequently was believed to be destined by nature itself to be 
 the tools and instruments of the other, and devoid of any will 
 of their own. Such a relation seems almost a necessary result 
 of the position held by antiquity, where state and nation con¬ 
 stituted the absolute form within which the supreme good was 
 to be realized, and it serves to explain the strange fact that the 
 nation which was most zealous for civil liberty still employed 
 thousands as slaves.* And though their situation was often 
 rendered more tolerable by the influence of manners and the 
 purer sentiments of humanity, which, breaking through unna¬ 
 tural restraints, often introduced a heartier fellowship between 
 master and slave,f nevertheless the contradiction between this 
 relation on the whole and man’s essential dignity could not 
 thus be set aside. In general it was still the prevailing habit 
 to look upon slaves, not as men gifted with the same rights as 
 all others, but as things. In a judicial process slaves, who, it 
 was acknowledged, were not implicated in any g-uilt, might 
 still be put to the rack for the purpose of extorting confes¬ 
 sions from them. If a master was murdered by one of his 
 slaves the cruel rigour of the Roman laws required the immo¬ 
 lation of all the slaves, male and female, who were in the 
 house when the crime was committed; and this, too, whatever 
 might be their number, and however free from suspicion.} 
 
 artisan and his tools, tlie soul and the body, the man and his horse or 
 ox: a SovXof tyyayov, to 'S opyavav aijti rxfit louXes. In this rela¬ 
 
 tion, to speak of a L««v, a < pixla, would be out of place. 
 
 * See above, p. 03, the way in which Aristotle seeks to justify this 
 relation, to show that it is one aimed at by Nature herself. 
 
 . t Even Aristotle, Eth. Nicomach. 1. IX. c. 13, makes this distinction 
 in reference to the relation between master and slave: i? p h olv hZxo S , 
 
 OUK ZffTl tylXlU. Vgo; uItov, jj o’ clvfytwros, 1ox.zi y'ug UlOLt Tl llKUIOV WUVTl 
 or^os oravra rov luiucpoivov xoivay?,ira! topov y.cu trvvSvzv; ;ia) QiXiu; 
 or\ KO.Q 0170V CLV§00)770$. 
 
 t Tacitus, Annal. 1. XIV. c. 42 et seq., relates a case of this sort, 
 when the blood of so many innocent persons of every age and sex was 
 to be shed, that the compassion of the people was roused, and it was neces¬ 
 sary to use force to prevent an insurrection. 
 
 2 b 2 
 
372 
 
 SLAVERY. 
 
 But Christianity effected a change in the convictions of 
 men, from which a dissolution of this whole relation, though 
 it could not be immediately accomplished, yet, by virtue of 
 the consequences resulting from that change, was sure even¬ 
 tually to take place. This effect Christianity produced, first 
 of all, by the facts to which it was a witness, and next by the 
 ideas which, by means of these facts, it set in circulation. By 
 Christ, the Saviour for all mankind, the differences among 
 men resulting from sin were reconciled ; by Him the original 
 unity of the human race was restored. These facts must now 
 operate in transforming the life of mankind. Masters as well 
 as servants were obliged to acknowledge themselves the ser¬ 
 vants of sin, and must alike receive, as the free gift of God’s 
 grace, their deliverance from this common bondage—the true, 
 the highest freedom. Servants and masters, if they had become 
 believers, were brought together under the same bond of an 
 heavenly union, destined for immortality : they became brethren 
 in Christ in whom there is neither bond nor free, members of 
 one body, baptised into one spirit, heirs of the same heavenly 
 inheritance. Servants were often the teachers of their masters 
 in the gospel, after having, first of all, in their lives and 
 actions, exhibited before them the loftiness of a divine life, 
 which must be shown forth even under the most painful of 
 relations, and sliine forth the more brightly by the contrast.* 
 Masters saw in their servants no longer their slaves, but 
 their beloved brethren; together masters and slaves prayed 
 and sang; they could sit at each other’s side at the feast 
 of love, and partake together of the Supper of the Lord. 
 Thus the spirit and the effects of Christianity necessarily 
 diffused widely ideas and feelings which were directly opposed 
 to this relation of society, however consonant with previous 
 habits of thinking. Christianity could not fail to give birth 
 to the wish that ever}" man might be placed in such a situation 
 as would least hinder the free and independent use of his 
 
 * The example of Onesimus often recurred. Tertullian refers to the 
 case of a master, who, after having for a long time patiently endured 
 the vices of a slave, observed that he had suddenly reformed, but upon 
 being told that Christianity had wrought this change iu him, imme¬ 
 diately, out of hatred to this religion, had him sent off to the house of 
 correction. Apologet. c. 3 : Servum jam fidelem dominus olim mitis ab 
 oculis relegavit. 
 
SLAVERY. 
 
 9*70 
 
 ol6 
 
 intellectual and moral powers, according to the will of God. 
 Accordingly, the Apostle St. Paul, speaking to the servant, 
 says (1 Cor. vii. 21), “If thou mayst be made free, use it 
 rather.” Yet Christianity nowhere began with outward 
 revolutions and changes, for where they have not been pre¬ 
 pared from within, and are not based upon inward conviction, 
 they invariably fail of their salutary ends. The new creation 
 to which Christianity gave birth was in all respects an inward 
 one, from which the outward effects, in their full compass and 
 extent, gradually, and therefore more surely and healthfully, 
 unfolded themselves. It gave to the slave, first of all, the 
 true internal freedom, without which the external and earthly 
 freedom is a mere semblance, for wherever the former exists 
 it can be cramped by no earthly bond or earthly yoke. The 
 Apostle Paul says, “ He that is called in the Lord, being a 
 servant, is the Lord’s freeman.” Tertullian, wishing to show 
 how far exalted this heavenly freedom is above the earthly, 
 observes * •— “ In the world they who have received their 
 freedom are crowned. But thou art ransomed already by 
 Christ, and indeed bought with a costly price. How can the 
 world give freedom to him who is already the servant of 
 another ? In the world all is mere semblance, and nothing truth, 
 lor even then, being redeemed by Christ, thou becamest free 
 in relation to man; and now thou art a servant of Christ 
 although made free of man. If thou deemest that the true 
 freedom which the world gives, thou dost, for that very 
 reason, become once more the servant of man, and hast lost 
 the freedom which Christ bestows because thou thinkest it 
 bondage. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, thus writes to Poly¬ 
 carp, bishop of Smyrna : f—“ Be not proud towards servants 
 and maids ; but neither must they exalt themselves, but they 
 must, for the honour of God, serve the more zealously, in 
 order that they may receive from Him the higher freedom. 
 Let them not be anxious to be redeemed at the expense of the 
 church, lest they be found slaves of their own lusts.” J One 
 of the imperial slaves, named Euelpistus, who was arraigned 
 at the same time witli Justin Martyr and other Christians, 
 
 * De corona militis, c. 13. j Cap. 4. 
 
 + f he genuineness of the letter is here of no importance. At all 
 events, we find a witness of the Christian mode of thinking in the first 
 century. 
 
374 
 
 CIVIL AXD MILITARY OFFICES. 
 
 expressed himself thus: “ I too am a Christian ; I have 
 obtained my freedom from Christ; and through the grace of 
 Christ I am a partaker of the same hope.” * 
 
 On the question whether a Christian might hold any civil 
 or military office, especially the latter, opinions were divided. 
 As the heathen religion of the state was so closely interwoven 
 with all political and social arrangements, every holder of 
 such offices might easily be placed in situations where it would 
 be almost impossible to avoid joining in the pagan ceremonies. 
 On this point all Christians were unanimous; no necessity 
 whstever could excuse that. Tertullian’s remark on this sub¬ 
 ject was assuredly spoken from the soul of every believer — 
 To be a Christian is not one thing here and another there. 
 There is one Gospel and one Jesus, who will deny all them 
 that deny him, and confess all them that confess God. A\ ith 
 him the believing citizen is a soldier of the Lord, and the 
 soldier owes the same duties to the faith as the citizen.” f 
 
 But the question , whether such an office, considered in itself, 
 was compatible with the Christian calling, was a distinct one, 
 which was answered by one party in the affirmative, by another 
 in the negative. Rightly to understand these opinions we 
 must take into our view the circumstances in which the church 
 found itself placed. The prevailing idea of the Christian life 
 was, to follow in humility, in self-denial, and the renunciation 
 of all earthly good, a Redeemer who had outwardly manifested 
 Himself in poverty and a low estate—had veiled His glory 
 under the form of a servant. The Christian had his glory 
 with his Saviour in heaven; as to his earthly appearance, 
 whatever was lowly, whatever was void of pomp or show, 
 most like the life of his Saviour, whom he loved to follow in 
 every particular, was best fitted for him. He despised the 
 power and the glory of this world, above which he felt himself 
 exalted by the consciousness of sharing the power and glory of 
 a very different world. It is true, this renunciation of earthly 
 
 * Acta Mart. Justini. 
 
 f De corona militis, c. 11 : Apud hunc tam miles est paganus fidelis, 
 quam paganus est miles infidelis. In translating this passage I have 
 gone on the supposition that fidelis is the true reading,—a correction 
 warranted perhaps by what Tertulliau has just before said respecting the 
 fides pagana. Still even the common reading gives a good sense: The 
 unbelieving soldier, who violates the duties of Christian fidelity, is to 
 him as a pagan. 
 
things consisted essentially in the sentiments of the heart; and 
 these might remain unchanged under any change of external 
 circumstances. The outivard possession of earthly property, 
 of earthly splendour, such as the special relations of life might 
 require, the exercise of earthly power and authority in an earthly 
 calling, were not necessarily excluded thereby : all this might be, 
 and indeed was to be, sanctified by Christianity. But the first 
 ardour of conversion did not allow those with whom the living' 
 feeling was the ruling influence solely to distinguish what 
 pertained simply to the idea and disposition in itself, and what 
 to the manifestation of it and the outward conduct. They 
 were inclined to take the figure—of following their Lord, who 
 had appeared in the form of a servant—in an outward sense, 
 and to refer it to an identity with the very outward circum¬ 
 stances in which he had lived. Thus wealth, worldly power 
 and glory—which, moreover, they so often saw arrayed against 
 the kingdom of God — seemed thereby to be forbidden them, 
 and the first fervour of their zeal led them to disdain all this 
 as alien to their calling.* In this spirit Tertullian says,t 
 
 not have said, ‘ Behold, they that wear soft clothing are in 
 kings’ houses; ’ without beauty or comeliness of appearance, 
 
 right of authority over none, not even His own disciples, for 
 whom He performed the most menial service; if, finally, con¬ 
 scious of His oion royal dignity, He rejected the honours of a 
 king’, He gave His disciples a perfect example of avoiding all 
 that is high and glorious in earthly power and dignity. For 
 who was better entitled to use these things than the Son of 
 God ? What fasces, and how many of them, must have gone 
 before Him; what purple have hung from His shoulders; 
 what gold gleamed on His brow — had He not judged that 
 the glory of this world was foreign both to Himself and to 
 His ! What he rejected, therefore, He condemned.” 1 
 
 * Hence the pagan in Minucius Felix, c. 8, describes the Christians as 
 men who, themselves half naked, despise honour and the purple, honores 
 et purpuras despiciunt, ipsi seminudi. f De idololatria, c. 18. 
 
 X Tertullian, one of the sternest representatives, it must be allowed, 
 
376 
 
 CIVIL AND MILITARY OFFICES. 
 
 Many Christians, again, with a conscientiousness which in 
 itself was worthy of all respect, thought themselves bound to 
 take passages like Matth. v. 39, in the literal sense. Gene¬ 
 rally a tone of mind prevailed which, by leading men to take 
 such words as positive commands, naturally hindered them 
 from rightly understanding them according to their spirit,— 
 as the expression of that which is rooted in the essence of 
 Christianity, and of that new life and law of living which by 
 an inward necessity proceeds from Christ. That which ought 
 to have been understood as referring immediately to the dis¬ 
 position alone, was referred to the outwardness of the act. It 
 revolted against their Christian feelings to allow themselves to 
 be employed as instruments of pain to others, to assist in the 
 execution of laws which, in all cases, were dictated and ani¬ 
 mated by tire spirit of rigid justice alone, without any admix¬ 
 ture of mercy or love.* 
 
 In general, the Christians were accustomed by the circum¬ 
 stances of the time to consider the state as a hostile power 
 and antagonist, of the church; and it was as yet quite remote 
 from their ideas to expect that Christianity could and would 
 appropriate to itself, also, the state.j - The Christians stood 
 aloof and distinct from the state, as a priestly and spiritual 
 race; and the only way in which it seemed possible that 
 Christianity could exert an influence on civil life was (which 
 it must be allowed was the purest way) by labouring continu¬ 
 ally to diffuse a holier temper in the whole body of the citizens. 
 
 of this mode of thinking, and in whom it appears, like everything else 
 that had seized and animated him, to have been carried to the utmost 
 extreme, says (Gloriam seculi), quam damnavit, in pompa diaboli 
 deputavit. 
 
 * Tertullian, where he treats this matter, distinguishes, in the first 
 place, those cases in which a Christian could not, under any circum¬ 
 stances, be allowed to hold a civil office : Jam vero qua; sunt potestatis, 
 neque judicet de capite alicujus vel pudore, feras enim de pecunia, nemi- 
 nem vinciat, neminem recludat aut torqueat, si hmc credibile est fieri 
 posse. The council of Elvira, can. 5G, decreed that magistrates, during 
 the years in which, as duumvirs, they had to decide on matters of life 
 and death, ought not to attend church. 
 
 f So far from Tertullian’s mind was the thought that the emperors 
 themselves would at some future day be Christians, that in Apologet. c. 
 21, he says, Sed et Ca;sares credidissent super Christo, si aut Ca;sares 
 non essent srcculo necessarii aut si Christiani potuissent esse Ca;sares 
 Comp, above, p. 237. 
 
CIVIL AND MILITARY OFFICES. 
 
 377 
 
 Tv lien Celsus called on the Christians to take up arms like 
 other subjects in defence of the emperor, and fight in his 
 armies, Origen replied, “ We do render the emperors a. divine 
 assistance, when we put on a divine armour, wherein we fol¬ 
 low the command of the apostle, 1 Tim. ii. 1. The more 
 pious a man is, the better able is he to render the emperor a 
 more effectual service than his ordinary soldiers do. Again 
 we might thus reply to the heathen: Your priests keep their 
 hands pure, that they may be able to offer the customary 
 offerings to the gods with hands unstained by blood. In war 
 you do not compel them to take the field. As priests of God 
 it is the duty of Christians to fight, by prayer to Him, for 
 those who are waging a just war and for the lawful emperor, 
 that all opposition to him who does right may be put down. 
 I he Christians render greater service to their country than 
 other men, by forming the hearts of the citizens, and teaching 
 them piety towards that God on Whom the well-being of the 
 state depends, and Who will receive all such as in the meanest 
 of cities lead a good life, into a city which is heavenly and 
 di\ ine. When Celsus called upon the Christians to under¬ 
 take the administration of civil affairs in their own countries, 
 Oiigen replies, “But we know that, in whatever city we are, 
 Ave have another country, which is founded on the word of 
 God ; and we require those who by their gift of teaching and 
 by their pious life are fitted for the task to undertake the ad¬ 
 ministration of the offices of the church.” 
 
 I hose, on the other hand, who maintained that it was 
 alloAvable for Christians to hold civil and military offices, 
 appealed to examples from the Old Testament. But their 
 
 * In vindication of the translation here given of the passage which 
 closes the eighth letter against Celsus, I must add a few critical remarks, 
 n ngens words, the reading tl; rov vroXtscc Smv seems to me to be 
 
 the correct one,—the reading sis 
 
 - --e *•» T0V oAft'v Ssov false. It admits of 
 
 bemg easily explained how the predicate, which was an unusual one in 
 ie Cmstian sense, might be altered into the phraseology common 
 among the Christians ; but not so easily how the latter could be changed 
 m o t ie onnei. But that Origen himself, speaking from his own 
 Christian position, should apply the term nXnu; to God, cannot appear 
 smgu ai, as the comparison with the Ztu; rroXuv; was hovering before his 
 mind, i he word to\, s , which occurs so often in this sentence, favours 
 le supposition, of such an allusion. If this reading is adopted, the 
 a usion makes it probable that avuXuujHavevns should be read instead of 
 ca)cc\a. l uficcvovrcC' 
 
378 
 
 CHRISTIAN 
 
 opponents in reply insisted on the difference between the two 
 stages of religious development. Tertullian maintains against 
 such, that the higher stage of Christianity makes higher 
 requisitions.* Again, the defenders of the military profession 
 appealed to the instance of John the Baptist, as not bidding 
 the soldiers that came to him to relinquish their calling, but 
 merely as prescribing to them certain rules for pursuing it in 
 a manner well pleasing to God : but to this it was replied, that 
 John stood on the boundary line between the two dispensations. 
 But when they alleged in their defence the case of the centu¬ 
 rion, whose faith Christ himself had commended (Luke 7), 
 and especially the example of the believing Cornelius, the 
 force of such an appeal could not but be felt by their oppo¬ 
 nents. Tertullian himself, that zealous antagonist of the 
 military profession amongst Christians, believed this argument 
 could not be perfectly met, and admitted that warfare could 
 not be wholly condemned in such as, having become Christians 
 while they were soldiers, persevered in the calling they had 
 once chosen, so far as nothing was done inconsistent with their 
 steadfastness in the faith.| Against the profession of arms the 
 command to Peter, in Matth. xxvi. 52, to put up again his 
 sword into its place, was also quoted; J for in despite of the 
 context and of the manifest end for which it was given, the 
 opponents of the military calling would consider it as addressed 
 to all Christians. 
 
 Christianity, setting forth from the consciousness of redemp¬ 
 tion, as the centre of all that is distinctively Christian, had 
 for its aim the assimilation and appropriation of whatever is 
 pure in humanity, and of the relations of society to the king¬ 
 dom of God. All was to be pervaded with the divine life : 
 all was to be ennobled by it. The Christian appropriation of 
 the world opposed both of the two previous methods of human 
 development—one of which, heathenism, had been a secu¬ 
 larizing of the spirit, a confounding of it with the world, and 
 a deification of the worldly ; the other, the Jewish legal posi¬ 
 tion of opposition to the world, arising out of the consciousness 
 
 * De idololatria, c. 18: Scito non semper comparanda esse vetera et 
 nova, rudia et polita, ccepta et explicita, servilia et liberalia. 
 
 f De corona milit. c. 2. 
 
 + De idololatria, c. 19: Omnem postea militem Dominus in Petro 
 exarmando discinxit. 
 
ASCETICISM. 
 
 379 
 
 of the inward schism produced by sin, when the world pre¬ 
 sented itself to the conscience simply as that which is without 
 God and contrary to God. Contemplated from both these 
 positions, the Christian life in its true import and significancy 
 was unintelligible. As viewed from the legal position, it 
 appeared too free and closely verging on heathenism; while 
 from the heathen position it appeared too servile, too con¬ 
 strained. The Christian life could not fail to be reproached 
 as being righteous overmuch, as the ivmiodica superstitio, 
 the nimium pietatis * * * § —sheer pietism. The Christians must 
 have seemed a race that hated the light, that was dead to the 
 world, and hence of no use in it.f 
 
 To these charges against the Christians Tertullian thus 
 replies :J “ How is it possible they should be such, who live 
 in the midst of you, have the same food and clothing, the 
 same necessaries of life as yourselves ? For we are no Brah¬ 
 mins, or Indian gymnosophists, no dwellers in the woods, no 
 recluses shut out from the common haunts of men. We are 
 deeply sensible of the gratitude we owe to God, our Lord and 
 Creator; we despise not the enjoyment of his works; only 
 we temper that enjoyment, in order to keep it from degene¬ 
 rating into excess or abuse. We, therefore, in common with 
 you, inhabit this world, with its markets, baths, inns, work¬ 
 shops, fairs, and whatever else is considered necessary to the 
 intercourse of life. We also, with you, pursue the business of 
 navigation, of war, of agriculture, of commerce; we share in 
 your employments, and contribute of our labour to your profit 
 and for the public service.Ӥ 
 
 Yet while the Christians did not by any means withdraw 
 
 * In an epitaph which Gilbert Burnet discovered at Lyons, and pub¬ 
 lished in the first of his letters, the pagan husband says of his wife, a 
 
 Christian, “ qua:, dura niruia pia fuit, facta est impia.” 
 
 f See the words above quoted, page 126 : “ natio latebrosa et lucifuga,” 
 &c. &c. 1 Apologet. c. 42. 
 
 § How remote the idea of the later monachism was from the minds of 
 the earlier Christians generally is evident from a passage in Irenaeus, 
 where he is speaking of the dependence of Christians for the means of 
 support on the heathens among whom they lived, 1. IV. c. 30: Etenim, 
 si is qui tibi htec imputat, separatus est a gentilium coetu, et nihil est 
 alienorum apud earn, sed est simpliciter nudus, et nudis pedibus et sine 
 domo in montibus conversatur, quemadmodum aliquot ex his animalibus, 
 qua: herbis vescuntur, veniam. merebitur, ideo quod ignoret necessitates 
 nostra: conversation^. 
 
380 
 
 CHRISTIAN 
 
 altogether from the business of life, they were in the habit of 
 setting apart certain days for the purpose of examining their 
 hearts in calm quiet before God, and in uninterrupted prayer 
 consecrating anew their lives to God ; that so they might 
 return to their ordinary avocations with fresh zeal and vigour 
 and renewed powers of sanctification. These days of holy 
 devotion, of penitence and prayer, which individual Christians 
 appointed according to their several needs, were often a kind 
 of fast-days. That their minds whilst occupied with holy 
 tilings might be less disturbed by sense, they were on such 
 days accustomed to confine their bodily wants within stricter 
 limits than usual, or else to fast entirely. In considering this 
 fact, we must take into account the peculiar nature of that hot 
 climate in which Christianity was first promulgated. What¬ 
 ever was saved by their abstinence on these days was appro¬ 
 priated to the support of the poor brethren. There were also 
 many who, in the warmth of their first love, upon their bap¬ 
 tism, immediately gave to the church fund or to the poor 
 a large portion of their earthly property, or all that they had, 
 since, in order to express in the strongest manner their con¬ 
 tempt for the earthly things by which their hearts had been 
 hitherto enslaved, they felt constrained to declare most de¬ 
 cidedly (what had now full possession of their hearts) the wish 
 to sacrifice and to give up everything, if so be they might but 
 win the heavenly pearl. With them it was as though the words 
 of our Lord, “If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou 
 hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in 
 heaven; and come and follow me,” had been addressed 
 directly to themselves. Within the bosom of the church they 
 led a quiet, retired life, supporting themselves by the labour of 
 their hands, and remaining unmarried, in order that, undisturbed 
 by earthly cares, they might devote themselves to prayer, to the 
 study of the scriptures, to holy meditations, and to labouring 
 for the kingdom of God ; while of the earnings of their indus¬ 
 try, all that remained over and above, after barely satisfying 
 the most necessary wants of life, they devoted to objects of 
 Christian charity. Such Christians were called the Abstinent , 
 the zealous seekers after Christian perfection, continentes, 
 ucrtcijrai.* There were also many others who, through the 
 
 * ’a< r;ss7v, iffxnrr,;, a current word among pagans and Christians in this 
 period, to denote a peculiarly rigid moral discipline. 
 
ASCETICISM. 33] 
 
 influence of a pious Christian education, had from the earliest 
 years imbibed such a love for divine things, that they desired 
 to loosen, as far as possible, every earthly tie. Individuals of 
 this class were to be found belonging to both the sexes;—the 
 females were called distinctively 7 rapdevot, virgins.* 
 
 Even amongst the heathens at this time'those who led lives 
 consecrated to meditation were usually termed ascetics in the 
 sense above given. Philosopher and ascetic were synonymous.f 
 The term “ philosophy” was now employed to denote the direc¬ 
 tion and bent of the whole life. But it must be admitted that 
 this had already become also a mask for hypocrisy, as, for example, 
 with the notorious pseudo-cynics. Nowit sometimes happened 
 that heathen ascetics were led by their earnest pursuit of moral 
 perfection to embrace Christianity ; and having become Chris¬ 
 tians, they still adhered to their former habits of life, which, 
 in themselves, contained nothing repugnant to Christianity. 
 Others, again, in whom Christianity first produced a more 
 serious turn of life, adopted these habits as a token of the 
 change that had been wrought in them. The attention which 
 they attracted, by publicly appearing in the philosopher’s 
 cloak,J—the dress of these philosophical ascetics,—and the 
 reverence paid to them by the multitude on account of their 
 mode of life, were employed by them to commence philosophical 
 and religious conversation with those who, out of respect or 
 curiosity, gathered round them in the public walks or places 
 of resort; and they thus published to them Christianity as the 
 new and heavenly philosophy,§ which had come from the East. 
 Assuredly it is a picture drawn from the very life, when Justin 
 Martyr tell us || that, when early one morning he made his 
 appearance on the public walks, he was presently surrounded 
 
 * Of such Tertullian speaks, De cult, femin. 1. II. c. 9 : Aliqui absti- 
 nentes vino et animalibus esculeutis, multi se spadonatui obsignant 
 propter regnum Dei; and Justin Mart. Apolog. II: n 0 \\oi rms ?-ai 
 
 •TroXhai £^nxovTowr'oi xut ifi^ofxrixovrouroi, o'l \x rraltuv i/jMStinuSniruv tu 
 
 Xgirrw, a!i pSt>t>in 'bia.p'ivcvin, —which, indeed, is not to be so understood as if 
 all these had from the first purposely adopted such a mode of life. 
 
 t See, e. g., Artemidor. oneirocrit. IV., where he speaks of an ’AXsgav 
 
 1po{ 0 tpiXtiixotyo;, iiiO.i ccu-Toi, ovn affxvrri, oilrt ydfaw, curt xoivutix;, 
 
 cun, •xXavroV and V. 18: 'EtyiXotrbfriirtv iut'ovu; xa) roi; Xoyoi; xcci rjj 
 u.vxr,tru ■X'O-wu.fj.iio; oLxoXoilS-o;. 
 
 1 1 5j/3wv, ‘Totfbco y/ov, pallium. 8 
 
 || Dial. c. Tryph. Jud. r * 
 
382 
 
 CHRISTIAN 
 
 by many with the salutation, “ Good morrow, philosopher;”* 
 whilst one of them added that he had been taught by his 
 master in philosophy never to slight the philosopher’s cloak, 
 but to welcome with every civility those that appeared in it, 
 and to endeavour to draw them into conversation ; and that this 
 remark led to a dialogue on the signs of true religion, and on 
 Christianity. “Joy to thee,” exclaims Tertullian to the phi¬ 
 losopher’s cloak,| “ a better philosophy has deigned to wrap 
 itself in thy folds since thou hast begun to be the garb of the 
 Christian.” 
 
 Though spiritual pride might easily attach itself to this 
 mode of life, the spirit of Christian love and humility often 
 shone forth, in such a form, with brighter splendour. An 
 example of this kind is furnished by that Alcibiades who was 
 one of the confessors imprisoned at Lyons. J Having accus¬ 
 tomed himself, as an ascetic, to live on bread and water, he 
 continued the same habits in the prison; when however by the 
 voice of the Spirit within it was revealed to Attains, another 
 of the confessors, that Alcibiades was wrong in refusing to 
 enjoy what God had created, and thus giving occasion of 
 offence to other Christians, Alcibiades immediately submitted 
 to this reproof, partaking without scruple of all that was set 
 before him with thanksgiving to God.§ 
 
 Now, though such ascetics were penetrated with a truly 
 Christian spirit—a spirit of love and humility—yet we cannot 
 fail to perceive, even here, a one-sided tendency, which, in the 
 subsequent development of Christian life, was likely to become 
 excessive. Christianity was designed to be the principle that 
 should rule the ivorld. It was to take into itself ancl appro¬ 
 priate to its own ends all that belongs to man and the world. 
 But to effect this it was necessary, as we have already re¬ 
 marked, that it should first enter into a conflict with what had 
 hitherto been the ruling principle of the world—a conflict 
 with sin and the principle of heathenism and everything con¬ 
 nected therewith. The purification of all this must therefore 
 be the first aim of Christianity; although indeed this object 
 could not be accomplished without the positive appropriation 
 of whatever is pure in humanity. In the temporary develop¬ 
 ment, this negative, aggressive tendency must necessarily ap- 
 
 * ! t la his tract de pallio. 
 
 J See above, p. 154, and the following. § Euseb. 1. V. c. 3. 
 
ASCETICISM, 
 
 383 
 
 pear first; and it might easily gain an undue predominance, 
 so as to repress for a while the positive element of appropria¬ 
 tion, by which alone the problem of Christianity could ever 
 attain to its solution. Hence a one-sided ascetical tendency 
 easily introduced itself into the earliest stages of the develop¬ 
 ment of the Christian life, and more particularly in the case 
 of those who embraced Christianity with their whole soul. 
 Wherever this religion awakened in the first place a feeling 
 of disgust at all worldly pursuits, enkindling in the mind the 
 holy flame of love for the divine, and of aspiration after eter¬ 
 nal life, this first movement would readily assume an ascetical 
 shape. And then with this might easily be combined other 
 elements, that had formed themselves independently of Chris¬ 
 tianity, in the previous development of the world, and which, 
 without the creative influence of Christianity, would have 
 taken a much wider sweep, and which could be finally con 
 quered only by the might of this new principle of life. The 
 buoyant youthful life of heathendom had sunk at length into 
 a painful sense of inward disunion, of schism, and had surren¬ 
 dered itself to the dualistic and ascetic tendencies of the East. 
 Accordingly, Christianity at its first appearance found such 
 tendencies already existing, and these, which found a welcome 
 and point of union in the deep-felt want of harmony, would 
 have gained a still greater ascendancy, had not the conscious¬ 
 ness of redemption proceeding from Christianity in proportion 
 as it unfolded itself deprived them more and more of this 
 point of union. But, beyond a doubt, this previously existing 
 tendency to a false renunciation of the world and of sense 
 might combine with the one-sided negative tendency which, as 
 we have seen, so prominently manifested itself at first in the 
 development of Christian life, and, consequently, in this way 
 might assume a Christian shape and colouring. 
 
 Thus arose an undue estimation of the ascetical contemplative 
 life and of celibacy, which was carried to the extreme of pro¬ 
 mising to such life a more exalted stage of future blessedness.* 
 It was in this feeling that a mistaken apprehension of our Sa¬ 
 viour’s words to the rich man, Matt, xix., found a support. It 
 w as argued that these -words denoted a perfection surpassing that 
 
 * As is done expressly by Origen, Homil. XIX. in Jerem. s. 4 
 Comp. Cyprian, de habitu virginum. 
 
384 
 
 CHRISTIAN' ASCETICISM. 
 
 ordinary standard of a Christian life occupied in fulfilling all 
 the duties of our earthly calling,-—and consist ing in the renun¬ 
 ciation of every earthly good (tire germ of the doctrine of the 
 concilia evangelica). Now in this manner it became possible 
 for an antagonism which essentially belonged to the principles 
 of antiquity—but which was overcome and banished by the 
 consciousness of redemption, of the principle of the divine life 
 destined to ennoble all that belongs to humanity—impercep¬ 
 tibly to gain admission again into the evolution of Christianity 
 itself;—we mean the antagonism between the ordinary and 
 the higher life, the practical and the contemplative—between 
 divine and human virtue. It is clear that this apprehension 
 would coincide very well with the notion of a caste of priests, 
 preeminently consecrated to God, who must hold themselves 
 aloof from all worldly pursuits; thus too might the opinion 
 have sprung up that celibacy belonged to the perfection of 
 the spiritual order.* 
 
 This false notion of opposition to the world had already be¬ 
 come the mask for a worldly temper, which affected the ap¬ 
 pearance of holiness, or sought a life of ease at the expense of 
 the church, j Cyprian w r as therefore obliged to write a tract 
 of admonition and warning against the showy dress and love 
 of display which had crept in among the rich virgins, at Car¬ 
 thage, who had consecrated themselves to God.J And thus, 
 from disdaining what is in harmony with nature, and conse¬ 
 quently agreeable also to Christianity, men were led to devise 
 unnatural forms of society between the two sexes; in which 
 nature, indignant to be so despised, quickly exercised a fearful 
 reaction, and in a pernicious way introduced sensuality among 
 the spiritual ranks,—as, for instance, when such virgins dwelt 
 
 * See the council of Elvira (A. D. 305), from 'which, however, no 
 inference can be drawn with regard to the general practice of the church. 
 This council, in which the one-sided ascetical spirit above spoken of pre¬ 
 vailed to an eminent degree, decreed at its early date, can. 33, that 
 bishops, presbyters, and deacons, living with their wives, should be 
 deposed from their places. 
 
 | See what is said against many virgines by Tertullian, who indeed 
 was at this time a violent, over-heated accuser of the catholic church, 
 but who must have felt that he had some ground for such charges: 
 vEmuIatio illas non religio producit; aliquando et ipse venter, Deus 
 eorum, quia facile virgines fraternitas suscipit. De idololatria, c. 14. 
 
 J Comp, the tract de habitu virginum. 
 
OPPOSED BY HERMAS. 
 
 385 
 
 and lived in the same household with unmarried ecclesiastics, 
 under the pretence of a purely spiritual connexion * 
 
 And from the praises thus given to the secluded life of 
 ascetics and ecclesiastics above the ordinary life of Christians 
 this michievous consequence resulted, that they who were 
 occupied in the common business of life forgot the greatness 
 of their Christian calling, and thought they were justified in 
 lowering its requisitions upon themselves. As early as the 
 time of Clement of Alexandria there were those who, on beiim 
 eminded of the seriousness that belonged to their Christian 
 calling and on being exhorted not to put themselves on a level 
 with the pagans m their rage for the public shows, would 
 reply, We cannot all be philosophers and ascetics ; we are 
 ignoiant people ; we cannot read ; we understand nothing of 
 
 made^ u^r 5 ° Ught S " C “ rig0r0US dema " ds t0=b » 
 
 Yet we observe many indications, too, of a sound Christian 
 spirit opposing itself to this false ascetical tendency. Such we 
 find in an ancient work, the Shepherd of Hernias, which in the 
 
 itr? U 7+« a A ° f authorit y- In regard to fasting it 
 f r , aid ’i Above all > exercise thy abstinence in this, in re- 
 
 thv hea g rt ?! n §P Iistenin S to evil ’ aad cleanse 
 
 thj heart fiom all pollution, from all revengeful feelings, and 
 
 tent^f 11 T iTf eSS ? and 011 the da y that thou fastest, con- 
 tent thyseif with bread, vegetables, and water, and thank God 
 
 io these. But reckon up on this day what thy meal would 
 otherwise have cost thee, and give the amount that it comes 
 to to some widow or orphan, or to the poor. Happy for 
 thee, if, with tfiy children and whole household, thou obLrvest 
 t lese things. Clement of Alexandria notices the fact that 
 
 Al Th ®r i<W ;r’ aS the y were afterwards called, or subin trodnctm 
 Against them, Cyprian, ep. 62, ad Pompon. Though Cyprian else" 
 where, speaking in extravagant terms of the obligations connected with 
 entering upon such a mode of life, even calls it a‘‘ commbTum snirila e 
 cum Domino, yet here he expresses himself with becoming moderation • 
 
 S, autem perseverare nolunt vel non possunt, melius est, m nubant ouam 
 
 £ 6Uis But the ~™cil of Elvira decreedfo 
 
 its 13th canon, that such fallen virgins who refused to return to their 
 
 deadf C0udUl0n Sll0uld be refused communion, even in the moment of 
 
 1 IH V f X orr ' raW!? ci* Clemens Pmdago- 
 
 ’ ’ ' - ' )J ‘ J Lib. III. Similitud. V. ° 
 
 V «L. I. 2 0 
 
 
 
 mil 
 
 5 
 
 min 
 
386 
 
 ASCETICISM 
 
 many forms of heathen worship required in their priests celi¬ 
 bacy and abstinence from meat and wine; that among the 
 Indians there were rigid ascetics, namely, the Samaneans; and 
 argues from this fact that usages which exist in other religions, 
 and are even combined with superstition, cannot in themselves 
 be peculiarly Christian. He then adds, “ St. Paul declares 
 that the kingdom of heaven consists not 1 in meat and drink,’ 
 neither therefore in abstaining from wine and flesh, but ‘ in 
 righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.’ As 
 humility is shown, not by the chastising of the body, but by 
 gentleness of disposition, so also abstinence is a virtue of the 
 soul, consisting not in that which is without, but in that which 
 is within the man. Abstinence has reference not to some one 
 thin 0- alone, not merely to pleasure, but abstinence consists 
 also in despising money, in taming the tongue, and in obtain¬ 
 ing by reason the mastery over sin.”* 
 
 When those of whom we lately spoke excused themselves 
 from all severer requisitions on their daily walk, by pleading, 
 “ We are not all philosophers, not all of the spiritual order,” 
 Clement replied, “ But are we not all striving after life ? 
 What sayest thou ? How art thou then a believer ? How lovest 
 thou God and thy neighbour ? Is not that philosophy ? Thou 
 sayest, ‘ I have never learned to read.’ But if thou hast not 
 learned to read, still thou canst not plead the excuse that thou 
 hast not heard; for there is no need of any one’s teaching thee 
 this. (All hear the word preached, hear the scriptures read 
 in the church.) But faith is not the exclusive possession of 
 the wise of this world, but of the wise in God. The faith 
 may be learned even without the scriptures ; for there is a 
 scripture thereof which is adapted even to the capacity of the 
 most ignorant, is still divine—and that is love. Even the 
 business of the world may be managed in an unworldly, in a 
 o-odly manner.” f Thus does Clement insist on the common 
 spiritual and priestly calling of all believers, and he requires 
 even of tradespeople and of tavern-keepers that they should 
 
 * Clemens Strom. 1. III. f. 446 et seq. 
 
 f II iffn; SI ol ffo<puv ruv xa.ru xotf/jov, aXXa ruv 9sov irr i ro y.rr,u,x. oj 
 
 Ss xa'i oivtu yoa.ufjjU.ruv ixiruihbirui' uu'i to auyyoa/xf/.a uvrr,;, to tbiunx'ov auu 
 xai 9:/ov, uyuorn xixXnrai. ’A XXa. xa'i ru hi xoUfj.u xoffilui (a play upon 
 words which cannot be exactly rendered), xur'u 9sov u^uyuv ob xizu- 
 Xurut• 
 
OrPOSED BY CLEMENT. 
 
 387 
 
 exhibit philosophy in their practice.* On the other hand for 
 the purpose of correcting the opinion of those who held the 
 renunciation of all worldly goods to be the true Christian per¬ 
 fection, misinterpreting Christ’s words to the rich young man 
 the same Clement wrote his beautiful tract, “ Who is the rich 
 man that is seeking salvation ? ” f I n this tract he endea¬ 
 vours to show that in Christianity the affections of the heart 
 are the essential thing. “ Our Saviour,” says Clement, “ does 
 not, as many superficial reasoners assume, command us to 
 throwaway our earthly goods, but to banish all thinking about 
 money, the love of it-that canker of the soul-the cares, the 
 thorns of this earthly life, which choke the seed of the divine 
 life. What does our Lord teach as something new, as the only 
 Lfe-giving doctrine, of which those of old knew nothing ? 
 .. > ls TJ thl ^ whlcl j 18 Peculiarly Iiis own, and the new crea¬ 
 
 tion . He demands not some outward act, that others also 
 have done; but something higher, more divine, more perfect, 
 which the former only serves to express, viz. that all which 
 
 f/vih ei9 V° ^ T Sh ° ul ? ] b , e toru U P b y the roots and cast 
 forth. For even those of old despised outward things and gave 
 
 away in fact, their earthly goods; but the inward desires 
 only became the stronger, for they were filled with vanity 
 pride, and contempt for other men,—as if they had done 
 something beyond the reach of humanity. A man may have 
 thrown away his earthly goods and still retain the desire of them 
 in his heart; thus will he expose himself to the double disqui¬ 
 etude, having to regret both his prodigality and his loss of the 
 necessaries of life What deeds of charity would exist amon^ 
 men if none had the means to bestow ? And were this the doc” 
 trine of our Lord, would it not be at variance with many others 
 of his glorious doctrines ? Earthly property should be considered 
 as materials and instruments for good uses, to be turned to a 
 proper account by those who know how to use them rightly ” 
 Clement recognised a divine dispensation in the unequal 
 I IS nbution of property, which was to serve as a material for 
 Christian virtue. Community of goods, therefore, appeared to 
 him as repugnant to the divine purpose.^ “ As food does us 
 
 f o 5 f*‘ ra ' JT ? « Icyo^cuo, xa) cl Paxlagog. 1. III. 
 
 t 'o -z ’ / . / , t T;s o raZ^o^ivos -rXiumos ; S. 11. 
 
 , ov-.'M ZXK ray Si^ovrav xv.k ray X/xfifiaycyray. Stromal. 1. III. f. 449. 
 
 2 c 2 
 
388 
 
 MO.NTANISTIC SPIRIT OPPOSED. 
 
 no good in God’s sight,” says he, “ so neither does a married 
 or an unmarried state benefit us without knowledge, but only 
 virtuous actions done with knowledge.” * * * § 
 
 When the Montanists, of whom we shall presently speak, 
 wished to impose new fasts and new laws of abstinence on the 
 church, the spirit of evangelical liberty among the Christians 
 made a strong remonstrance. They were accused of not duly 
 distinguishing between the economy of the Old and of the 
 New Testament; of making laws where, according to the 
 spirit of the gospel, all should be free, and where every one 
 should be at liberty to act according to his peculiar temper¬ 
 ament and individual necessities. The only fast prescribed by 
 God was fasting from bosom sins.f 
 
 Like others whose language we have already had occasion 
 to quote, Commodian also rebuked the extravagant estimation 
 in which martyrdom was held as an opus operatum. He 
 declared that whoever was a martyr in disposition, whoever 
 exercised love, humility, patience, was equal to the martyr 
 without shedding a drop of blood.J “ Many err,” said he, 
 “ when they say we have conquered the enemy by our blood ; 
 and they will not conquer him, if he continues to assault them 
 (if he plunges them into temptations of another kind.) § Thou, 
 then, who wouldst become a martyr by the confessions of thy 
 mouth, robe thyself in time of peace with all goodness, and 
 be free from care.” 
 
 While, however, the ascetical tendency was but a transient 
 moment of one extreme to which the development of the 
 Christian life was liable; on the other hand, we may see from 
 
 * Stromat. 1. IV. f. 533. f See Tertullian, de jejuuiis. 
 
 } Instruc. 48 :— 
 
 Multa sint martyria, quae fiunt sine sanguine fuso. 
 
 Alienum non cupere, velle martyriura habere, 
 
 Linguara refraenare, humilem te reddere debes, 
 
 Vim ultra non facere, nec factam reddere contra, 
 
 Mons (_ which gives no good sense) patiens fueris, intellige te martyrem esse. 
 
 § Instruc. 62 :— 
 
 Multi quidem errant dicerites, sanguine nostro, 
 
 Vicimus iniquum, quo manente, 
 
 (which may be referred either to the nearest subject, iniquus, as I have 
 rendered it, or the more remote, sanguis :—they do not want that victory 
 which is won -without blood) 
 
 Tu ergo, qui quaeris martyrium tollere verbo, 
 
 In pace te vest! bonis, et esto securus. 
 
DOMESTIC LIFE OF CHRISTIANS. 
 
 389 
 
 
 the very first a striking contrast to it in the power, which in 
 its healthy development the Christian principle possessed to en 
 noble all the relations of domestic life. And this great result 
 was principally effected by Christianity realising the true im¬ 
 port of marriage as the harmonious union of two beings, differ¬ 
 ing by sex, into a higher spiritual oneness of life, destined by 
 the communication of a divine life to reconcile all antitheses. 
 Moreover, wherever Christianity found admission, the equal 
 dignity of the female sex, as possessing, no less than the male, 
 a nature created in the image of God, and allied to the divine 
 nature, was brought distinctly before the consciousness; and 
 thereby the weaker sex was invested with its due rights—in 
 opposition to the principle of the ancient world, and particu¬ 
 larly of the East, by which the woman was placed altogether 
 in a subordinate relation to the man.* Accordingly Clement 
 of Alexandria, in opposition to the extravagant admirers of 
 asceticism, insists on the Christian import of marriage and the 
 domestic life. “ The genuine Christian,” says he, “ has the 
 apostles for his example; and in truth, it is not in the solitary 
 life one shows himself a man; but he gets the victory over other 
 men, who, as a husband and father of a family, withstands all 
 the temptations that beset him in providing for a wife and chil¬ 
 dren, servants and an establishment, without allowing himself to 
 be drawn from the love of God. The man with no household 
 escapes many temptations: as he has only himself to provide 
 for, he is inferior to the man who, having more to disturb 
 him in working out his own salvation, yet fulfils more duties in 
 social life, and truly exhibits in his family a miniature of pro¬ 
 vidence itself.” f Describing the Christian matron, he says, l 
 “ The mother is the glory of her children; the wife of her 
 husband; both are the glory of tire wife, and God is the glory 
 of them all.” And Tertullian: § “ What a union is that 
 
 between two believers who have in common one hope, one 
 wish, one law of life, one service of the Lord! Both, 
 like brother and sister, undivided in spirit or body, nay, in 
 the true sense two in one flesh, together they kneel, pray, 
 and fast, mutually teach, exhort, and encourage each other; 
 they are together in the church of God, and at the Lord’s 
 
 * Also in the Ethic magn. of Aristotle, 1. I. c. 34: XiT^v * yuvb tou 
 avSjo;. f Stromat. 1. VII. f. 741. 
 
 J Psedagog. 1. III. f. 250. § Ad uxorem, 1. II. c. 8. 
 
390 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN MATRON. 
 
 supper; they share each other’s troubles, persecutions, joys ; 
 neither hides aught from the other ; neither avoids the other , 
 there is free liberty to visit the sick, to relieve the needy, 
 psalms and hymns are sung between them, and each vies with 
 the other in singing the praise of their God. Christ rejoices to 
 behold and hear such things, and on such He sends His peace. 
 Where there are two, there He is also; and where He is, there 
 evil is not.” 
 
 It was required of the Christian matron that, by the 
 sobriety of her whole demeanour, by her decent and simple 
 attire,* she should show forth the spirit that ruled within, and 
 that thus, by her very appearance, she should shine as a light, 
 in an age of excessive display, luxury, and corruption. 
 
 But here again there were two opposite parties. While, to 
 one, poverty of apparel seemed inseparably connected with the 
 essence of humility, and to be implied in the idea of the form 
 of a servant, as distinctive of the Christian character, the other 
 maintained, “it is enough to have the sentiments which be¬ 
 come Christian women. God looks on the heart—the outward 
 appearance is nothing. Why make a display of the change 
 that has been wrought in us? Rather ought we to furnish 
 the heathens with no occasion for blaspheming the Christian 
 name, and for accusing Christianity as being incompatible 
 with the customs of the world.f We possess these earthly 
 goods, why may we not use them ? Why may we not enjoy 
 what we have ? For whom were these precious objects cre¬ 
 ated, if not for us ? Who are to enjoy the costly articles, if 
 all prefer the cheap ?”i To the latter argument Clement of 
 Alexandria replied, “ Even though all things are given us, 
 though all things are allowed us, though all things are lawful 
 for us, yet, as the apostle says, all things are not expedient. 
 God has created our race for doing good and communicating; 
 lie has created everything for all; everything, therefore, is a 
 common good ; and the wealthy should not make of their 
 wealth an exclusive possession. Such reasoning, therefore, is 
 not humane, it does not correspond with our social affections. 
 Love will rather speak thus: 4 1 have it—why should I not 
 
 * Comp. Commodian. Instructiones, 59,—the satirical remarks directed 
 against the gaudy apparel of Christian women. 
 
 f Tertullian De cultu feminarum, particularly 1. II. c. 11. 
 
 \ Clemens Psedagog. 1. II. c. 12. 
 
MIXED MARRIAGES. 
 
 391 
 
 bestow it on the needy ? ’ ” * Tertullian says, ‘ What rea¬ 
 sons can you have for going about in gay apparel, when you 
 are removed from all which makes it requisite? You do 
 not go about to the temples, you visit not the public shows, 
 you have nothing to do with pagan festivals. You have other 
 and more serious reasons for appearing abroad. Is it not 
 either a sick brother to be visited, the communion to be cele¬ 
 brated, or a sermon delivered ? and if offices of courtesy or 
 friendship call you among pagans, why not appear in your 
 own peculiar armour, and especially as you are going among 
 unbelievers, that so the difference may be seen between the 
 servants of God and of Satan, that you may serve for an 
 example to them, and that they may be edified by you ?” 
 
 Strictly maintaining the peculiarly Christian view of mar¬ 
 riage, many believed that where the bond of religion did not 
 unite hearts together, where, on the contrary, there was dis¬ 
 union on this the highest concern of the inward life, the true 
 import of marriage could never be realised. They therefore 
 discountenanced marriage between Christians and pagans. 
 Tertullian labours to show how a pious Christian -woman, 
 with whom Christianity was as the soul of her life, who be¬ 
 longed to the Church as one of its living members, and in its 
 communion felt herself in the way of salvation, must, by 
 living with a heathen, be not only hindered and disturbed in 
 her religious duties in a thousand ways, but also injured in 
 her feelings. “ Is it a day of prayer,” says he, “ the husband 
 will devote it to the use of the bath; is a fast to be observed, 
 he will on this day make a banquet for his friends. But never 
 will the business of the household be more heavy and engross¬ 
 ing than at the very time when the duties of Christian charity 
 call the wife abroad.” And then, after the passage which we 
 have already quoted, relating to those duties of the Christian 
 mistress of a family, in the performance of which she is hin¬ 
 dered by her pagan husband, he goes on : “ What shall her 
 husband sing to her, or she to her husband? Would she like 
 to hear anything from the theatre or from the tavern ? Where 
 is there mention of God, where any invocation of Christ? 
 Where in their conversation is faith nourished by the quo- 
 
 * The same thing is said by Tertullian, in the works above referred 
 to, and by Cyprian, De habitu virginum. Perhaps Tertullian and 
 •Cyprian had both read this work of Clement. 
 
392 
 
 MIXED MARRIAGES. 
 
 tation of Scripture?* Where is there quickening- of the 
 Spirit? Where the divine blessing-?” 
 
 In this case the question related to a marriage that was to 
 be contracted, where as yet no contract had been made. It 
 was very different where a connexion, which was not to be 
 dissolved but sanctified by Christianity, already existed, and 
 one of the parties to it became a convert. This case Ter- 
 tullian expressly distinguishes from the former. “ It is differ¬ 
 ent with those who, when they came to the faith, were already 
 connected by marriage with heathens. Since such a marriage 
 is valid with God, why should it not go on with his blessin°, 
 so that it may continue to be spared from many afflictions’ 
 disquietudes, and stains, enjoying, as it does on one side, the 
 protection of divine grace? Blit it is another thing when 
 one enters uncalled and voluntarily into forbidden relations.” 
 “ The way in which his wife was converted to Christianity,” 
 continues Tertullian, “ may make a strong impression on "the 
 heathen husband himself, so that he may be cautious how he 
 disturbs her too much, or watches her too narrowly. He has 
 witnessed a great event, he has seen the proofs of what God 
 has wrought, he knows that she has become better. Thus will 
 those be more easily gained to the faith in whose homes the 
 grace of God is become as it were domesticated.” It is true 
 the observance of such a change did not always make this 
 favourable impression. Many a blind devotee to heathenism, 
 when he saw that his wife, whose conduct he had before been 
 obliged to watch narrowly, had become all at once do¬ 
 mestic and exemplary, but at the same time felt that Chris¬ 
 tianity had produced the change, divorced her whose vices he 
 had before tolerated. The case also sometimes occurred of a 
 Christian woman who, being married to a vicious heathen, had 
 previously, when a heathen, been herself the minister to his 
 vices, but who now, as a Christian, felt bound by her con¬ 
 science to discontinue such practices. She would endeavour 
 at first by her exhortations and remonstrances to lead him to 
 
 * Ubi fomenta fidei de scripturarum interjectione ? according to the 
 reading in Rigaltius’ edition. According to that of Pamelius, “ inter- 
 lectione,”—“ by the intermingled reading of the Holy Scriptures.” It 
 hardly admits of being determined which is the correct reading. As 
 the whole passage relates to quotations in conversation, the first is°to the 
 point. And if this is the right one, it follows from it that husband and 
 wife must possess a familiar acquaintance with the Bible. 
 
PRAYER. 
 
 393 
 
 a better way. But when these were indignantly repelled, 
 she would be forced, if she would avoid participating in his 
 sinful life, to obtain a separation from him; and this proved 
 the occasion of many persecutions by exasperated husbands.* 
 
 This Christian view of marriage early made it a custom to 
 add the sanction of the church to the civil contract. The 
 pastors of the church and the deaconesses were to be con¬ 
 voked, and they were to see that the marriage was contracted 
 according to the will of God, and not from human passion, 
 and that all was done to the honour of God.f Bride and 
 bridegroom proceeded to the table of the Lord, and there 
 partook together of the communion. They presented a com¬ 
 mon offering to the church, and in the prayers of the church 
 connected with the communion the blessing of God was spe¬ 
 cially implored on the newly married couple. How highly 
 the Christians valued this blessing of the church appears from 
 the following passage of Tertullian: J “In what language 
 can we express the happiness of that marriage which is con¬ 
 cluded by the church, sealed by the communion, and con¬ 
 secrated by the church’s blessing; which angels announce, 
 and our Heavenly Father ratifies ?” 
 
 Prayer was considered the soul of the whole Christian life.. 
 Even they who otherwise, from their bent of mind and habits 
 of thinking, differed widely on many important points, were 
 agreed on this. Although the spirit of Christianity often 
 brings together the most opposite natures, still it would be 
 difficult to find a stronger contrast than that between the 
 practical realism of Tertullian, so inclined to give a bodily 
 form and shape to everything, and the speculative turn of 
 Origen, who was equally disposed to the opposite extreme of 
 spiritualising everything. Both, hotvever, when they come 
 to discourse of prayer, appear equally penetrated with vital 
 Christianity; on this subject both seem to speak from their 
 own inward experience, and in both the essential Christian 
 spirit breaks through all individual peculiarities. Tertullian, 
 in accordance with a prevailing view of those early Christian 
 times, contemplates prayer as the exercise of the priestly office 
 of all Christians. “ It is the spiritual sacrifice,” says he,§ 
 
 * See Justin Mart. Apolog. II. 
 
 f Ignat, ep. II. ad Polycarp, s. 5. X Ad uxor. 1. II. c. 8. 
 
 § Cap. l> 8, De orat. in the pieces first published by Muratori, T. III. 
 
PRAYER. 
 
 394 
 
 “ which has superseded the sacrifices of the old covenant 
 Isa. i. 11. This passage informs us what God does not re¬ 
 quire ; but the gospel teaches us what He does require of us: 
 ‘ The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers 
 shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth; for God is a 
 spirit.’ We are the true worshippers and the true priests, 
 who pray in the spirit, and thus offer the sacrifice which is 
 
 agreeable to His nature, and well-pleasing in His sis?ht_that 
 
 which He requires. And what is there whicli the "God who 
 requires this prayer can refuse to the prayer that comes from 
 the spirit and the truth? How much do we read, hear, 
 believe of the proofs of its efficacy!” He then describes the 
 peculiar efficacy of Christian prayer, and shows how it ought 
 to correspond to the peculiar nature of the religious consti¬ 
 tution under the New Testament; teaching that Christian 
 prayer reveals its true power, net in delivering men miracu¬ 
 lously from death and suffering , but in making them capable 
 of enduring death and suffering with a tranquil mind and 
 cheerful resignation. “ By virtue of imparted grace it dulls 
 not the sense of pain, but arms the sufferer with strength to 
 bear it. The prayer of the Christian draws down no Retri¬ 
 bution from heaven, but it averts God’s anger; it watches for 
 enemies; it intercedes for persecutors; it obtains forgiveness 
 of sins ; it delivers from temptation; it comforts and helps 
 the weak-hearted; it quickens the strong. Prayer is the 
 bulwark of faith.” Origen says,* “ How much would each 
 one among us have to relate of the efficacy of prayer, if only 
 he were thankfully to recall God’s mercies! Souls which 
 had long been unfruitful, becoming conscious of their dearth, 
 and fructified by the Holy Spirit through persevering prayer, 
 have given forth words of salvation full of the intuitions of 
 truth. What mighty enemies, that threatened to annihilate 
 oui holy faith, have from time to time been brought to 
 shame ! Our confidence was in those words, ‘ Some put their 
 tiusi in chariots and in horses, but we will think on the name 
 of the Lord our God ’ (Ps. xx. 8) ; and verily we experienced 
 that the horse is but a vain tiring to save a man. The might 
 e\ en of bewildering arguments, sufficient to stagger many who 
 
 Anecdotor. bibl. Ambros. [Bishop Kaye, according to Eev. H J Rose 
 questions the genuineness of these additional chapters.— Ena Ed 1 
 * De orat. s. 13. ’ J 
 
PRAYER. 
 
 3S5 
 
 are accounted believers, has been often vanquished by him 
 who trusts in prayer. How many instances are there of those 
 who were placed in temptations difficult to be overcome, yet 
 suffered no injury from them, but came forth unharmed, with¬ 
 out even the smell of the hostile flames having passed upon 
 them! And what shall I further say ? How often has it 
 happened that they who were exposed to wild beasts, to evil 
 spirits, and cruel men, have appeased them by their prayers, 
 so that their teeth could not touch us who were the members 
 of Christ! We know that many who had fallen from the 
 precepts of the Lord, and were already in the jaws of death, 
 have been delivered by the prayer of penitence.” 
 
 The same father contemplates prayer in its inseparable 
 unity with the whole of life, when he says,* “ He prays 
 without ceasing who suitably unites prayer with action ; for 
 works also are a part of prayer ; since it would be impossible 
 to understand the words of the apostle, ‘ Pray without ceasing,’ 
 in any practicable sense, unless we regard the whole life of 
 the believer as one great continuous prayer,f of which what is 
 commonly called prayer forms but a part.” 
 
 We recognise here a mode of thinking grounded in the 
 essence of primitive Christianity, and intimately connected 
 with the universal priesthood, which distinguishes the Chris¬ 
 tian position as well from the pagan as from the Jewish 
 —the view of prayer as an act embracing the whole life— 
 making the whole Christian life a continuous prayer. In this 
 light Or;gen says, in his exposition of the Lord’s prayer, j 
 '‘We ought not to think that words have been taught us only 
 to be repeated at certain stated seasons of prayer. If we 
 understand properly what was said in regard to ‘ praying 
 without ceasing,’ then our whole life—if really we do thus 
 pray without ceasing—must call out ‘ Our Father which art 
 in heaven ;’ if we have our conversation, not on earth, but in 
 heaven, if we are thrones of God, inasmuch as the kingdom 
 of God has its seat in all who bear the image of the Man 
 from heaven, and have thus become heavenly themselves.” 
 Clement of Alexandria says,§ “ Prayer, if I may speak so 
 boldly, is intercourse with God. Even if we do but lisp, 
 
 * De orat. c. 12. 
 
 f Ei <rov filov tou aylou /Jj'iccv G’uvct-7rrc/xivv;v /xzyuX'/iv uvroi^zy sv^y,v. 
 
 J De orat. c. 22. § Stromat. 1. VII. f. 722^ 
 
396 
 
 SEASONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 even though we silently address God without opening the 
 lips, yet we cry to Him in the inward recesses of the heart; 
 for God always listens to the perfect direction of the inward 
 soul to Him.”* * * § Again, when he is wishing to depict the ideal 
 of a devout Christian, and one mature in knowledge, the same 
 writer says,f “ He will pray in every place, but not openly, 
 to be seen of men. Even when he is walking 1 for recreation, 
 m his converse with others, in silence, in reading, in all 
 rational pursuits, he finds opportunity for prayer. And 
 although he is only thinking on God in the little chamber of 
 the soul , and calling upon his Father with silent aspirations, 
 God is near him and with him, for he is still speaking to 
 Him.”± 
 
 The description, above quoted from Tertullian, of the 
 blessedness of a Christian marriage, shows that to assemble 
 together, to join in spiritual songs and in reading of scripture, 
 was part of the daily edification of a Christian family. In 
 like manner Clement of Alexandria recommends to Christian 
 couples to make prayer and the reading of the Bible § a 
 morning employment of every day. Such of the controversial 
 writings of Tertullian on matters of Christian life and morality 
 as were addressed to laymen prove that even they were well 
 acquainted with the scriptures, and were accustomed to judge 
 the circumstances of life by them. 
 
 In general it was the custom of the Christians to observe 
 the times of prayer which had been previously in use among 
 the Jews; namely, the third, the sixth, and the ninth hours of 
 the day, which correspond with our nine of the forenoon, 
 twelve, and three in the afternoon. Not that they wished to 
 confine the duty of prayer to any stated times, but, as Tertul¬ 
 lian explained,|| “for the purpose of reminding those of their 
 duty who might be drawn away from it by their worldly 
 business.” Moreover the Christians were accustomed to sanc¬ 
 tify with prayer all the more important portions of the day, 
 and all transactions of importance, whether relating to the 
 spiritual or the bodily life; since even by receiving a heavenly 
 direction the concerns of the world were to be made holy. 
 
 * riairav ycco rnv opiXiczv o a.'hia\uT‘?u$ s-jrafi/. 
 
 t Stromat. 1. VII. f. 728. 
 
 t 'o St lyyu; irt Xakovvrog 
 
 § xat a.vccyvcu(ns. Pgedagog. 1. II. f. 194, D. || De orat. c. 25. 
 
COMMON PRAYER. 
 
 397 
 
 “ It becomes the believer,” says Tertullian, “ neither to take 
 food nor to enter a bath without interposing a prayer; for 
 the strengthening and refreshing of the soul should precede 
 the strengthening and refreshing of the body, the heavenly 
 the earthly.” Thus, too, the Christian who had received into 
 his house a brother from a distant land, and entertained him 
 with all the bodily refreshments in his power, was not to 
 dismiss him without prayer; he was to feel as if he saw in 
 the stranger the Lord himself; and the guest was not to value 
 the earthly refreshment which he had received from his brother 
 above the heavenly which he bestowed on him at parting.* 
 On pressing emergencies, affecting either the church in gene¬ 
 ral, or individual members in whom all felt great interest, they 
 all assembled for prayer. All general deliberations were also 
 opened with prayer. It was in prayer that the brotherly 
 communion, the mutual sympathy of the members of the One 
 Body, was especially to be shown ; each was to pray in the 
 spirit of all, and to commend the interests of all the brethren, 
 which he must regard as his own, before the great Head of 
 the Church, and, through him, before Eternal Love. So 
 Cyprian, in his exposition of the Lord’s prayer, “The teacher 
 of peace and brotherly love wished not that each individual 
 should pray for himself alone, but that every one should pray 
 for all. We say not my Father, but our Father; nor do we 
 pray each for the forgiveness of his own sins alone, nor for 
 himself alone, that he may not be led into temptation, and that 
 he may be delivered from the evil. Ours is a common prayer ; 
 and when we pray, we pray not for individuals, but for the 
 whole church, because as members of the church we are all 
 one. That God who is the Author of peace and concord 
 wished that every one should pray for all, even as He has in- 
 
 * As this passage of Tertullian, De orat. c. 26, is not -without its 
 difficulties, I will subjoin a translation of it: “ But he himself too (the 
 brother from abroad), after having been entertained by the brethren,”— 
 1 suppose in this place exceptus should be read instead of exemptis,— 
 “ must not value the earthly refreshments more highly than the heavenly; 
 for his faith would be at once condemned (i. e. he would thereby evince 
 his unbelief, if he valued the parting prayer, the blessing of the Christian 
 brother his entertainer, as of no account compared with the bodily 
 refreshment bestowed); or how shalt thou say, in obedience to the 
 Lord's precept, Peace be unto this house ! unless thou returnest to those 
 in the house the blessing (previously received from them).” 
 
398 
 
 POSTUPuE IN PRAYER. 
 
 claded all in one.” And when Cyprian, the bishop of Car¬ 
 thage, during the pressure of persecution, was encouraging his 
 church to prayer, he wrote to them,—“ Let each of you pray 
 to God, not for himself alone, but for all the brethren, as the 
 Lord has taught us to pray.” 
 
 Convinced that divine things could be understood only by 
 the light of God’s Spirit, and that this heavenly fountain" was 
 opened to man by prayer, the Christians regarded this exercise 
 as the necessary means to the right understanding of scripture. 
 When Origen, that great father of the church, who had availed 
 himself of all the human aid to be found in his time for the 
 exposition of scripture and the elucidation of its doctrines, and, 
 moreover, directed to this object all the vast resources of his 
 learning and speculation, was exhorting his disciple, the young 
 Gregory, (afterwards called Thaumaturgus,) to diligent “ seek¬ 
 ing and knocking” in the study of Scripture, he added, “Be 
 not, however, content with seeking and knocking; to a know¬ 
 ledge of divine things the most necessary means is prayer.* 
 Inciting us to this, our Saviour did not say alone, ‘ Knock and 
 it shall be opened to you; seek and ye shall findbut also, 
 *' Ask and it shall be given you.’ ” 
 
 On those days which were specially consecrated to the 
 memory of Christ’s Resurrection, the Christians were accus¬ 
 tomed to pray standing, as a token that Christ had raised up 
 to heaven those who were fallen and sunk in the mire of the 
 earth; on all other days they prayed kneeling. Yet Origen 
 warned Christians against the delusion which might lead them, 
 in the outward form, to forget the inward affection. He 
 pointed from the latter to the former, and laboured to show 
 that outward things, apart from the inward sentiment, are 
 utterly without significance, and, considered in themselves, an 
 indifferent matter. “ Before a man stretches out his hands 
 to heaven he must,” he says,j- “ raise his soul upwards; and 
 before he raises up his eyes he mast lift up his spirit to God ; 
 for there can be no doubt that, of a thousand possible positions 
 of the body, that with outstretched hands and uplifted eyes is 
 to be preferred to all others, as a sign of those directions of 
 the soul which are most befitting in prayer. We are of 
 opinion that this posture should be observed where there is 
 
 * 9 Avo&yxuiOTUTfj yko zu.) r, crspi rov voiiv rk Slice ivy^r,. 
 
 f Cap. 31. 
 
PUBLIC WORSHir. 
 
 399 
 
 nothing to forbid it; for in certain circumstances, such as 
 sickness, one may pray even sitting or lying. And under 
 certain circumstances'—as, for example, on shipboard or in 
 situations which allow no opportunity of retiring to offer up 
 the suitable prayer-—it is possible to pray without seeming 
 to do so. And since kneeling is enjoined when a man is 
 confessing his sins to God and imploring forgiveness, he 
 should feel that this posture is to be the sign of a spirit bowed 
 -down and humble.” It is to such a spiritual bowing the knee 
 in self-humiliation at the name of Jesus, that the passage in 
 Philip, ii. 10, is by Origen supposed to refer. Tertullian and 
 Cyprian also teach that prayer does not consist in the vain 
 show of outward gestures, but in the disposition of the heart 
 towards God. “ God hears not the voice but the heart,” says 
 Cyprian. “ He who discerns the thoughts of men needs not 
 to be reminded by their cry; for Hannah, in the Book of 
 Kings, is the type of the church, which flies to God, not with 
 noisy prayer, but in the silent depths of the heart. She spoke 
 in silent prayer, but her faith was known to God.” 
 
 In Commodian’s collection of rules for the Christian life, 
 we find this laid down with the rest-—that prayer, unaccom¬ 
 panied with works of Christian love, is nothing.* 
 
 We now pass from the consideration of the Christian life gene¬ 
 rally, and of family devot ion, to the forms of public worship. 
 
 II. Public Worship of God. 
 
 1. Character of Christian Worship generally. 
 
 That which constituted the peculiar character of Christian 
 worship, and which distinguished it from every other kind of 
 religious worship, was the fundamental conception from which 
 the whole character of the Christian life originally took its 
 shape—the idea of the universal priesthood of Christians—of 
 a worship of God in spirit and in truth, confined to no special 
 time or place, and to no particular class of actions, but 
 embracing alike every action of the whole life. This distin- 
 * Instruct. 79 :— 
 
 Orantera si cupias exaudiri de ccelo, 
 
 Rumpe cle latibulis nequitiae vincla ; 
 
 Aut si bcnefactis ores miseratur egenis, 
 
 Ne dubites quin quod petieris detur oranti. 
 
 Tu sane si nudus benefactis Deum adores, 
 
 In totum ne facias sic orationes inepte. 
 
400 
 
 rUBLIC WORSHIP. 
 
 guishing character of the Christian worship developed itself 
 in the churches of the gentile Christians founded by the 
 Apostle St. Paul, in contradistinction, first of all, to Judaism, 
 and afterwards in opposition likewise to paganism. Latterly, 
 indeed, and as the result of that revolution of Christian views 
 which we adverted to in speaking of the history of the consti¬ 
 tution of the church, a reaction of the Jewish principle began 
 to manifest itself in the forms of worship, as the opposition to 
 that principle became more feeble. The simple spiritual 
 character of the Christian worship was, from the very first, a 
 very singular and striking phenomenon to the heathens—parti¬ 
 cularly the fact that none of the outward pomp belonging to all 
 other religions was to be found in it —“ no temples, no altars, 
 no images !” When Celsus reproached the Christians with this, 
 Origen replied, “ In the highest sense God’s temple and image 
 are in the humanity of Christ; and consequently, in all believers 
 who are actuated by the spirit of Christ—living statues, with 
 which no Jupiter of Phidias is worthy to be compared!”* 
 Christianity led men to retire from the distractions of the out¬ 
 ward world to the stillness of the inward sanctuary, there to 
 pour out their hearts before Him who dwelt in this temple; 
 but it also kindled in their hearts flames of love which sought 
 after communion, by means of which they might strengthen 
 one another, and unite themselves in one holy flame, rising 
 upward to heaven. Communion in prayer and devotion was 
 considered a means of sanctification, since it was known that 
 the Lord was present with his Spirit in the midst of those 
 who were gathered together in his name. Nothing, how¬ 
 ever, seems to have been more remote from the thoughts of 
 Christians generally than to ascribe any special sanctity to the 
 place of meeting.f Such an idea would seem to savour of 
 paganism ; and it was less likely for Christians to fall into 
 such a notion at the beginning, since their first places of 
 assembly were common rooms in private houses, according as 
 any member of the church had an appropriate dwelling. 
 Thus Gaius of Corinth is called, Rom. xvi., the host of the 
 whole church, because the church was accustomed to assemble 
 
 * c. Cels. 1. VIII. s. 17. 
 
 [f And yet 1 Cor. xi. 22, seems at least by the antithesis to imply 
 some such special sanctity in the place of the church’s assembling.— 
 Eny. Ac/.] 
 
WORSHIP. 
 
 401 
 
 in a room of his house. Origen says,* “The place where 
 believers assemble for prayer has something about it whole¬ 
 someand profitable; but it is only the importance of thi* 
 spiritual fellowship that he insists on. “Christ, with the 
 
 Il° , ? SU J? p0SeS ’ “ are P res ent in the assembly of 
 
 tlie faithful, and therefore prayer in such assemblies ough/not 
 to be despised or neglected, for they had a peculiar power for 
 him who comes to them with a sincere heart.” “ I t i s not thp 
 place but the congregation of the elect that I call the church ” 
 say.-, Clement of Alexandria.! Tertullian remarks,! “ Vic 
 may pray in eveiy place that occasion or necessity may fur¬ 
 nish; for the apostles who prayed to God and sang his praise 
 i the piison, within the hearing of the keepers, surely did 
 nothing contrary to the commands of our Lord, any more 7 than 
 St. 1 aul did when, in the ship and before the eyes of all he 
 consecrated the Lord s supper.” Acts xxvii. ’ 
 
 It could not fail to happen, indeed, that the very thing which 
 Christianity was to overcome-the tendency, viz. to mak™ 
 
 exclusively confined to particular times 
 and places, would gam admission even into Christianity; but 
 
 “SLd ifT^ COrrU f? P t ?K denCieS , * he pure Christian soon 
 raised its voice. Of their early existence we have evidence 
 
 m the words of Clement of Alexandria, when he says,§ “ The 
 
 ssciples of Christ ought to be as praiseworthy in their whole 
 
 conduct as they appear in the church ; they should really be 
 
 andable Tt rf™ *° M sucl 'rf gentle, so dcvo„[, so 
 amiable But I know not how it is that, with the place, they 
 
 c lange their habits and their manners, just as it is said of the 
 
 po } pus, that it. changes its colour according to the nature 
 
 of the rock to which it clings. As soon a°s they leave Zt 
 
 luich they hay aside the spiritual demeanour which they 
 
 -r and bec ^ iike the nudtitude ^ wS 
 
 27 Ih f/ coimct themselves of falsehood, and show 
 what they really are m their hearts, by laying aside their 
 
 “Tf Sk r °I deCOrum - The 7 who profess to honour 
 
 Sey hi il^ 6 Xt hhld them ^ the place where 
 
 * De orat. c. 31. 
 
 f Ob yyvZvj'ov rlxc, ixxb r'o ZSoo.rux rZy ixXsx 
 
 Stromat. 1. VII. f. 715, B. 
 § Pasdagog. 1. III. f. 25 
 von. i. 
 
 ■.rav bcxXtisrlay KaXu. 
 
 t De orat. c. 24. 
 
 2 D 
 
402 
 
 WORSHIP : PLACES OF ASSEMBLY. 
 
 2. The Places of Assembly used by the Christians. 
 
 We have already observed that the places of Christian 
 assembly were at first rooms in private houses belonging to 
 different members of the church. In large towns, where such 
 a place of assembly could not accommodate all, it became 
 necessary that smaller portions of the community dwelling at 
 a distance should choose other places for their meeting on the 
 Sunday. When any one distinguished for the talent of com¬ 
 municating doctrinal instruction settled in a town, he, we 
 may suppose, formed a circle within the church, which accord¬ 
 ingly met at his house to hear his spiritual discourses. This 
 is perhaps the meaning of the passages in Paul’s epistles con¬ 
 cerning churches in the house of Aquila and of others; ’ and to 
 this Justin Martyr may have alluded when, to the Roman pre¬ 
 fect’s question, “ Where do you assemble? ” he replied, “ Where 
 each man can and will. Tou believe, doubtless, that we all 
 meet together in one place. But it is not so; for the God of 
 the Christian is not confined to one spot, but his invisible 
 presence fills heaven and earth, and in all places he is wor¬ 
 shipped by the faithful.” Justin then adds, that whenever he 
 came to Rome it was his custom to reside in one particular 
 place, where those Christians who were instructed by him,t 
 
 * The church iu his house, h xa.r' olxov auroZ i»x.Xn<ria t. In such pas¬ 
 sages the reference certainly cannot be to places of assembly for the 
 ■whole church, since in several instances this h kxt oixov t /vs; ixxXwr'uz is 
 expressly distinguished from the whole community ; 1 Cor. xvi. 19 and 
 20. At Ephesus the church, in the house of Aquila and Priscilla, is first 
 mentioned, and then all the brethren, which, according to this sup¬ 
 position, would be the same thing. Comp. Coloss. iv. 15. Again, there 
 is another objection to this explanation, viz. that it would make the 
 church meet in the house of Aquila when he resided at Rome, his 
 ordinary abode, and when he was at Ephesus. Comp. Rom. xvi. 5, and 
 1 Cor. xvi. 19. But it is very unlikely that the church would con¬ 
 stantly change its place of meeting on the arrival of Aquila. It is more 
 reasonable to suppose that men who, like the tent-maker Aquila, were 
 obliged by their occupation to have large and commodious dwellings 
 wherever they took up their residence, were in the habit of giving up 
 one apartment for the use of a portion of the church ; especially when 
 such a person was also fitted, as was perhaps the case with Aquila, by his 
 gift of teaching, to conduct the exercises of small assemblies, in the 
 capacity of a Comp, above, p. 257, and my History of the 
 
 Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 208 of the original. 
 
 f This accordingly would be h *<«■’ olxov rdu ’loiwrlvau ixxXtwa. 
 
WORSHIP : IMAGES EXCLUDED. 
 
 403 
 
 and wished to hear his discourses, were accustomed to assemble. 
 Uther places of assembly he had not visited. 
 
 In these places of assembly arrangements were gradually 
 made to meet the requirements of Christian worship. An 
 elevated seat was constructed for reading the scriptures and 
 delivermg the sermon ;* and a table set for the distribution of 
 the Lord s supper, to which the name of altar (ara, altare) 
 was given so early as in the time of Tertullian—not perhaps 
 without some admixture of the Old Testament idea of sacrifice 
 or at least not without furnishing occasion for the speedv 
 ac mission of this idea. As the Christian communities became 
 larger and wealthier, church buildings were erected expressly 
 for their use. This appears to have been the case as early as the 
 third century for m the edict of Gallienus mention is already 
 made of the Christians Qp^eva^ot roirm (places of worship).t 
 13) the ieign of Diocletian many ecclesiastical buildings of 
 great magnificence had already been raised in the larger cities. 
 
 °{ ima 9 es wa ® originally unknown to the worship 
 and excluded from the churches of the Cliristians; and so in 
 general it continued throughout this period. The union of~ 
 religion and art in heathenism made the early Christians to 
 regard the latter with suspicion. As in the heathen system the 
 taste for the beautiful had often come into collision with, and 
 had even opposed itself to, the moral sense, so the first ardour of 
 . istian zeal was inclined to reverse the relation. The reli¬ 
 gious consciousness readily assumed a direction opposed to the 
 
 of ,j ' e al ; cie, “ " , ° rkl 1 anti the Holy disdained 
 ti e beaut,f„I forms with winch the unholy had long been allied, 
 len were more inclined to push to an undue extreme the idea 
 of the appearance of the godlike in the form of a servant, with 
 which the oppressed condition of the struggling church of this 
 age so folly agreed than to seek to ennoble the divine by any 
 beauty of form. This tendency is especially proved by the 
 opinion, so very general in the primitive church, that Christ 
 
 * Suggestus, palpi turn. 
 
 f See above, p. ] 94 , and the following. If any confidence is to he 
 
 had been hnilt W S, T ' L 1 ? (see above , P- 110 )> a Christian church 
 nf 1 W b U as ,. earl y as foe year 302; and if the explanation 
 
 of that passage by Michaelis, Orientalische und exegetische Bibliothek, 
 
 J S ‘ 61 ’ ’ s corr ect, this church was separated thus early into 
 
 three pai ts, according to the pattern of the Jewish temple. 7 
 
 2d 2 
 
404 
 
 worship : 
 
 veiled his inward divine majesty beneath a mean outward 
 appearance the most directly opposed to it; an opinion which 
 they supported by appealing to Is. liii. 2, which passage, re¬ 
 lating to the Messiah, they interpreted literally. Thus Clement 
 of Alexandria admonishes the Christians against placing too 
 high a value on personal beauty, by appealing to the instance of 
 Christ. “ Our Lord himself is said to have been without come¬ 
 liness in his outward appearance ; and who is better than our 
 Lord ? But He did not manifest in Himself that beauty of body 
 which consists in the sensible appearance, but the true beauty 
 both of soul and of body; that of the soul in beneficence, and that 
 of the body in its destination for an imperishable existence.” * 
 
 Church teachers of the most opposite habits of mind, whether 
 of a more sensuous or of a more spiritual way of thinking— 
 Realists or Idealists, who, by reason of these different mental 
 tendencies, might, in regard to this matter, be expected to 
 hold conflicting views such as did actually spring up from this 
 source in later times—were nevertheless united on this point 
 by a common opposition to the practices of heathenism, and by 
 a common effort to preserve pure and undefiled the worship of 
 God in spirit and in truth. Clement of Alexandria is as little 
 favourable as Tertullian to the religious use of images. “ TV e 
 must not,” he remarks, when speaking against the heathen use 
 of images, “adhere to the sensuous, but we must rise to the 
 spiritual. The familiarity of daily sight lowers the dignity of 
 the divine, and to wish to honour a spiritual being by means of 
 earthly matter is to degrade it by sensuousness.” From these 
 remarks it must be evident how repugnant, on the whole, all 
 images of Christ must have been to the notions of the Christians 
 in this age. Pagans, like Alexander Severus,f who recognised 
 something of a divine nature in Christ, and sects which com¬ 
 bined heathenism and Christianity together, were the first to 
 introduce images of Christ; as, for instance, the gnostic sect 
 of the Carpocratians, who placed his image beside the busts of 
 Plato and Aristotle. 
 
 * Pacdagog. 1. III. C. 1 : Tov xiigic >v aurov tw o\pit ultr%oov yiyovtvai, Sid 
 ’H trctiou tg cm ufjja ftetgrugu, 
 
 t Eusebius says, likewise, Hist, eccles. 1 . VII. c. 18 , that heathens, 
 agreeably to their notions, were the first to provide themselves with 
 pictures of Christ, Peter, and Paul, as benefactors of mankind. This 
 is easily explained by the religious eclecticism of that period. 
 
IMAGES EXCLUDED. 
 
 405 
 
 It was not in churches, but in private houses, that reli¬ 
 gious images first came into use among the Christians. In the 
 intercourse of daily life the Christians saw themselves every¬ 
 where surrounded by the objects of heathen mythology, or, at 
 least, by such as shocked their moral and Christian feelings. 
 Representations of this sort covered the walls of rooms, drink¬ 
 ing vessels, and signet-rings, on which the heathens frequently 
 had the images of their gods engraven, so that they might 
 worship them when they pleased. In place of these objects, 
 so offensive to their religious and moral sentiments, the Chris¬ 
 tians naturally sought to substitute others more agreeable to 
 them. Thus they were fain to put on their goblets the figure 
 of a shepherd carrying a lamb on his shoulder, as the symbol 
 of the Saviour who, according to the parable in the gospel, 
 saves the sinner that returns to Him.* * * § And Clement of 
 Alexandria says, in reference to the signet-rings of the Chris¬ 
 tians, f “ Let our signets be a dove, (the symbol of the Holy 
 Spirit,) or a fish,or a ship sailing towards heaven, (the 
 symbol of the Christian church and of the individual Christian 
 soul,) or a lyre, (the symbol of Christian joy,) or an anchor 
 (the symbol of Christian hope) ; and he who is a fisherman will 
 not be forgetful of the Apostle Peter, and of the children 
 brought up out of the water; § for no idolatrous images 
 should be engraved by those who are forbidden all intercourse 
 with idols; as also neither sword nor bow by those who strive 
 after peace ; nor goblets by such as are the friends of sobriety.” 
 And yet, perhaps, religious paintings passed, as early as the 
 end of the third century, from domestic use into the churches, 
 the walls of them being adorned in this manner. The council 
 of Elvira, in the year 303, opposed this innovation as an abuse, 
 and forbade u the objects of worship and adoration to be 
 painted on the walls.” || The visible representation of the 
 
 * Tertullian, De pudicitia, c. 7 : Procedant ipsa; picturm calicum ves- 
 trorum. Cap. 10: Pastor, quem in calice depingis. The figure of Christ 
 on the cup seems not to have been pleasing to the Montanistic ascetism. 
 
 f Pfcdagog. 1. III. f. 246 and 247. 
 
 t The same reference as in the case of the fisherman —also an allusion 
 to the anagram of Christ’s name, ixersrr’i© eoD t3 ; , 
 
 § The Christians, whom Christ, the divine teacher, the SUas graihcc- 
 yuyog, —leads through baptism to regeneration. 
 
 II quod colitur et adoratur in parietibus depingatur. Concil. 
 Illibert. can. 36. It must be admitted, however, that the interpretation 
 
406 
 
 STATED SEASONS OF WORSHIP 
 
 cross probably found its way very early, both in the domestic 
 ana ecclesiastical life of the'Christians. This token was 
 peculiarly common among them. It was the sign of blessing 
 when they rose in the morning and when they retired at night, 
 when they went out and when they came in; it was indeed 
 employed in all the transactions of daily life. It was the sign 
 which the Christians involuntarily made when any sudden 
 calamity befel them.* It was a sensible expression of the 
 truly Christian idea, that all the actions of Christians, as well 
 as their whole life, ought to be sanctified by the faith in Christ 
 *• crucified, and by a reference to Him ; as well as that this faith 
 is the most effectual means of obtaining the triumph over, and 
 securing protection against, all evil. Too soon, however, and 
 too easily, did men confound the idea with the symbol which 
 represented it; and the efficacy of the faith in Christ crucified 
 Was transferred to the outward sign, to which a supernatural, 
 sanctifying, protecting power was ascribed—an error of which 
 vestiges may be found even as early as in the third century. 
 
 We now pass from the consideration of places of public 
 worship, to that of the seasons of Worship and the festivals of 
 the Christians. 
 
 3. Seasons of Public Worship and Festivals. 
 
 Our general remarks on the essential character of Christian 
 worship apply also to its festivals, and this is particularly the 
 case with the observation that the spirit of universality in 
 Christianity abolished all specialities. The Christian worship, 
 claiming for itself the entire life, and flowing from a conversa¬ 
 tion in heaven that depended not on the elements of the world, 
 was no longer to be confined exclusively to any particular 
 place or time. In the fulfilment of the law by New Testament, 
 i. e. the perfect sanctification of the whole life, in which every 
 day alike is consecrated to God, the Old Testament law of the 
 Sabbath must find its repeal. Not barely the observance of 
 Jewish feasts, but all forms and modes of particularizing the 
 
 of this canon is not very clear. It contains a two-fold ambiguity. The 
 phrase “ quod colitur et adoratur ” may be understood as referring to 
 objects of religion generally, or more strictly to objects of proper wor¬ 
 ship, to images of Christ, or symbolical representations of God—of the 
 Trinity. The term “ walls ” may also be taken in two different senses, 
 either as referring to the walls of private houses or those of the church. 
 
 * Comp. Tertullian, De corona milit. c. 3. 
 
REPROBATED BY ST. PAUL. 
 
 407 
 
 Christian life by an exclusive reference to certain times, are 
 reprobated by the Apostle Paul as a Jewish practice,* a bond¬ 
 age under the elements of the world. And if, notwithstanding, 
 men did, from the very first, set apart certain days, with 
 which they associated the remembrance of the great facts of 
 the history of Redemption, and to which the whole Christian 
 life was to be referred, by its making them the central points 
 of Christian fellowship, this was not by any means inconsistent 
 with the fundamental tendency and intuition of Christianity. 
 It was only a condescension to human weakness from the 
 height of pure spirituality, at which even the Christian, as 
 partaking of a double nature, cannot always maintain himself: 
 for such condescension became the more necessary the more 
 the fire of the first enthusiasm, the glow of the first love, 
 abated. But as it had done in the idea of the priesthood, so 
 here also the particularizing spirit of the Old Testament dis¬ 
 pensation introduced a disturbing influence, by fastening itself 
 to that which had originally sprung from the purer develop¬ 
 ment of the Christian life. 
 
 When the Montanists wished to introduce, by law, new firsts 
 which should be confined to stated times, the observations of 
 St. Paul in his epistle to the Galatians against the Jewish 
 observance of times were justly quoted against them; but 
 Tertullian, the advocate of Montanism, whom we have already 
 spoken of as standing on the boundary between two stages 
 of the development of the church, shows himself incapable 
 of rightly distinguishing the two positions of the Old and of 
 the New Testament respectively ; for he insists that the 
 Judaizing spirit, reprobated by St. Paul, consisted simply in 
 the observance of Jewish festivals, and not in the mere relation 
 of particular days (resembling those of the Jewish position), 
 —whatever days they might be,—to the religious consciousness. 
 According to his view, it would savour in no respect of Judaism 
 if feasts which had reference to what is simply Christian were 
 placed in such a relation to the religious consciousness.']' 
 
 * See my History of the Planting, &c., Bd. I., S. 215, if. 
 
 f Against this objection of conforming to Jewish practices,—“ Galati- 
 cari,” Tertullian, De jejuniis, e. 14, replies, l: Galaticamur plane, si 
 Judaicarum ceremoniarum, si legalium solennitatum observantes sumus; 
 illas enim Apostolus dedocet, compescens veteris Testaiuenti in Christo 
 sepulti perseverantiam. Quodsi nova conditio in Christo, jam nova et 
 solennia esse debebunt.” 
 
408 
 
 SEASONS OF WORSHIP. 
 
 The weekly and yearly festivals of the Christians originated 
 in the same fundamental idea, which formed the centre of the 
 whole Christian life,—the idea of imitating Christ, the crucified 
 and risen Saviour,—following Him in his death, by appropri¬ 
 ating through faith and repentance the effects of His death, and 
 by dying to self and to the world,—by following Him in His 
 resurrection , by rising with Him, in faith ancl through the 
 power which He imparts, to a new and holy life devoted to 
 God, which, commencing here in the germ, unfolds itself to 
 maturity in another world. Hence the festival of joy was 
 that of the resurrection; and as the fitting preparation thereto, 
 by repentance and mortification of the flesh, the commemora¬ 
 tion of Christ’s sufferings was kept as a day of fasting and 
 penitence. In every week, therefore, Sunday was the festival 
 of joy; while in preparation of it every Wednesday and 
 Friday were consecrated as days of prayer and fasting, were 
 consecrated to the memory of Christ’s betrayal and passion. 
 Similarly the yearly festivals were likewise commemorative 
 of Christ’s resurrection and of the operations of the risen and 
 glorified Saviour, and as preparatory thereto a remembrance 
 was kept of Christ’s passion and fasting. Having presented 
 this general view, we shall now proceed to consider, more 
 in detail, the several weekly and yearly festivals. 
 
 The opposition to Judaism early led to the observance of 
 Sunday in place of Saturday. The first intimation of this 
 change is in Acts xx. 7, where we find the church assembled 
 on the first day of the week;* a still later one is in Rev. i. 10, 
 where the “ Lord’s day ” can hardly be understood of the day 
 of judgment. So too in the catholic epistle ascribed to Barna¬ 
 bas, at the close of the 15th chapter, Sunday is designated as 
 the day of rejoicing in remembrance of Christ’s resurrection 
 and ascension to heaven,j- and of the new creation which then 
 
 * See my History of the Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 215, f. [Are there 
 not intimations, at least, of such observance also in John xx. 19,26; 
 and 1 Cor. xvi. 2?— Eng. Ed.~\ 
 
 t Considering the close connection in which the resurrection of Christ 
 and his ascension to heaven stood with each other in the Christian con¬ 
 sciousness,—since his resurrection was regarded as but a transition point 
 to his perfect exaltation above the region of earth in His new, glorified 
 form of existence,—I cannot think that much stress is to be laid on the 
 manner in which the writer of this letter expresses himself with regard 
 to Sunday : “ Iv J xa) b ’Irjffnv; a.'iia-Tvt lx vsxjA xa) QantiuSu; avs/ajj it; rov; 
 
THE SABBATH — FASTS. 
 
 409 
 
 commenced; and in the epistle of Ignatius to the Mag- 
 nesians it is presupposed * that even the Jews who had 
 embraced Christianity substituted Sunday for the Sabbath. 
 As the Sabbath was regarded as a distinctive mark of Ju¬ 
 daism, Sunday was looked upon as a symbol of the new life 
 consecrated to the risen Christ and grounded in His resurrec¬ 
 tion. Sunday, as a day of joy, was distinguished by being 
 exempt from all fasting, and by the fact that prayer was 
 offered on this day in a standing and not in a kneeling pos¬ 
 ture, as intimating that Christ, by rising again on this day, had 
 raised up fallen man to heaven. But as we have already ob¬ 
 served in Tertullian a tendency to confuse the Jewish with the 
 Christian view of festivals, so we also find in him indications 
 of a transfer of the Jewish law of the Sabbath to the Sunday; 
 for he seems to have regarded it as sinful f to attend to any 
 business soever on a Sunday. 
 
 Again, in every week, Friday in particular, and also Wed¬ 
 nesday, were specially consecrated to the remembrance of the 
 sufferings of Christ and of the circumstances which led to 
 them. On these days the church met together for prayer, and 
 it was usual to fast till three o’clock in the afternoon. As yet, 
 however, these arrangements had not any authority of law; 
 every one observed them or not according as need or inclina¬ 
 tion prompted. By the Christians—who were fond of com¬ 
 paring their calling to a warfare, a militia Christi—such fasts, 
 united with prayer, were named stationes 4 as if they con¬ 
 stituted the watches of the soldiers of Christ (the milites 
 Christi) ; and these two days were called dies stationum.% 
 
 oleavov;” Nor can I think it allowable to infer from it, either that, 
 according to the author’s opinion, Christ’s ascension also occurred on 
 Sunday, or that he conceived the fact to have been that Christ rose to 
 heaven immediately after his first appearance to Mary as the risen Saviour. 
 
 * Chap. 9 : Muxsr; kvoium jv jv 
 
 . t As I infer from Tertullian’s language, de orat. c. 23 : Solo die domi- 
 nico.resurrectionis non ah isto tantum (the bowing of the knee), sed 
 omni anxietatis habitu et officio cavere debemus, diff creates etiam negotia, 
 tie. quern diubolo locum demus. 
 
 | We first find the word statio used in this sense in Hennas Pastor, 
 1. III. Similitud. V.— it is often met with in Tertullian. Statio was the 
 technical designation for this half-fast, as contradistinguished from the 
 proper jejunia. Tertullian, de jejuniis, c. 14. 
 
 . § Feriaquarta et sexta, probably = feria diei quarto, sexto; hence the 
 signification of the word feria in the Latin of the church. 
 
410 
 
 SEASONS OF WORSHIP. 
 
 Those churches, however, which were composed of Jewish 
 Christians,* though with the rest they observed the festival of 
 Sunday, still retained that also of the Sabbath ; and from them 
 the custom became general in the Eastern church of distin¬ 
 guishing this day as well as Sunday, by never fasting, and by 
 standing during prayer. In the Western churches, on the 
 other hand, and especially in the Roman, where the opposition 
 to Judaism was strongest, a custom which had grown out of this 
 opposition prevailed of observing the Sabbath also as a fast-day.I 
 
 * From the language, indeed, of the passage, which has been already 
 cited, in Ignat, ep. ad Magnes. Ol iv TaXaioi; rr^a.yu.a<ut avacrroaQ'iyri :,— 
 finKin aa/lfixr ifyvrlS) d.XXa. Kara, xvoiaxi jv ^ojy,v >rs;, it might be inferred 
 that the Jewish Christians had substituted Sunday for the Sabbath; 
 which, however, in this general sense, cannot assuredly be true. 
 
 f Tertullian, de jejun. c. 14: Quanquam vos etiam sabbatum si 
 quando continuatis, nunquam nisi in Paschate jejunandum. He objects, 
 as a Montanist, to his JRoman opponents, that they had deprived the 
 Sabbath of its due honour, and sometimes continued the fast from 
 Friday to Saturday, when properly the only exception to be made to 
 such celebration was in the case of the passover. The same practice of 
 continuing the Friday’s fast on the Saturday, which Tertullian the Mon¬ 
 tanist here attacks, we find mentioned by Victorious, bishop of Petabio 
 in Pannonia (now Pettau in Steiermark), near the close of the third 
 century, in the fragment of the History of the Creation, first published 
 by Cave, hist. lit. He calls this continuation “superpositio jejunii.” 
 Fasting on the Sabbath appears in this case to have been a preparation 
 for the joyful celebration of the communion on Sunday, as opposed to 
 the Jewish festival of the Sabbath, which had been abrogated by Christ. 
 Hoc die solemus superponere; idcirco, ut die dominico cum gratiarum 
 actione ad panem (the sacrament of the Lord’s supper), exeamus. Et 
 parasceve superpositio fiat, ne quid cum Judseis sabbatum observare 
 videamus. Galland. bibl. patr. T. IV. and Routh reliquiae sacra;, Vol. 
 III. pag. 237. Oxon. 1815. 
 
 The council of Elvira opposed the keeping the Sabbath as a festival by 
 enjoining the prolongation of the Friday fast to the Sabbath ; Can. 26 : 
 Errorem placuit corrigi, ut omni sabbati die superpositiones celebremus. 
 This canon may, no doubt, be differently understood by referring the 
 phras “ errorem corrigi” to something not expressly stated, but supplied 
 by the mind, or to the following context. In the latter case the council 
 must be understood as declaring itself expressly opposed to these super¬ 
 positiones. But the analogy of the whole style of expression in the other 
 canons of this council rather favour the first interpretation. At a later 
 period, when the point of view from which the matter was originally 
 regarded in the early Christian times was forgotten, and the cause of that 
 custom in the Roman church of fasting on the Sabbath was no longer 
 obvious, fables were invented to explain the fact, as, for example, that 
 Peter had fasted on this day to prepare himself for the dispute with 
 Simon Magus. 
 
FESTIVALS. 
 
 411 
 
 This difference in customs became striking whenever members 
 of Eastern churches passed their Sabbaths in churches of the 
 West. Too soon, however, were the principles of the apostolic 
 church departed from, which, amidst all differences in outward 
 things, had kept the unity of faith and of spirit in the bond of 
 love. Uniformity in such matters was now required. Pre¬ 
 viously to his conversion to Montanism, Tertullian had spoken 
 on this disputed point with Christian moderation. He said of 
 the few advocates of the Eastern custom,* “ The Lord will 
 bestow his grace, so that they will either yield, or else follow 
 their own opinion without giving offence to others.” As early 
 as the beginning of the third century the learned Hippolytus 
 was induced to write on this controversy between the Eastern 
 and the Western churches.f 
 
 From the same point of view as the weekly did the first 
 yearly festivals originate among the Christians. Here, how¬ 
 ever, that opposition between the communities composed of 
 Jewish and those composed of Gentile Christians, which had 
 such important influence on the vital development of the 
 church as well as of its doctrines, was strongly manifested at 
 the very beginning. The former retained, together with the 
 whole Jewish ceremonial law, all the Jewish festivals, although 
 they gradually ascribed to them such Christian meaning as na¬ 
 turally presented itself. Among the Gentile Christians, on the 
 contrary, there were perhaps at the first no yearly festivals 
 whatever, as may, I think, be inferred from the epistles of St. 
 Paul.I If so, the same would be the case also with the 
 churches of Asia Minor, which assuredly were founded by the 
 Apostle Paul. And yet it was from these churches that the 
 controversies in the second century respecting the time of the 
 passover originated. They appealed to the authority of an 
 
 * De orat. c. 23. f Cfr. Hieronymus, ep. 72, ad Vital. 
 
 t The passage, I Corinth, v. 7, contains in no sort any allusion to a 
 celebration of the passover in the Corinthian church which was peculiar 
 to the Christians ; but simply opposes that cleansing of the heart which 
 is the result of faith to the outward Jewish celebration of the feast. 
 Comp, my History of the Planting, See., Vol. I. p. 230. [On this the 
 Rev. H. J. Rose aptly observes, “ But St. Paul, 1 Cor. xvi. 8, says, But I 
 will tarry at Ephesus until Pentecost. Now this is worth observing: he is 
 writing to a church among the Heathen , and yet reckons by the feast. May 
 we n ot suppose from this that the heathen converts made this season a so¬ 
 lemn time also, and reckoned their years in some degree by it?— Eng. Edi\ 
 
412 
 
 CONTROVERSY 
 
 ancient usage introduced by the Apostle St. John Perhaps, 
 therefore, the truth may be that a change took place in these 
 churches, after the times of St. Paul, in the particular form 
 of worship, by the introduction of the annual feast, which might 
 be derived from the Apostle St. John, whose long residence in 
 Minor Asia must have had a lasting influence on the state of 
 the churches there. Now, supposing this, we need not look long 
 for its cause. It is probable that, as this apostle had, pre¬ 
 viously to his coming there, been accustomed to celebrate the 
 Jewish annual festival, and as the feast of the passover, as re¬ 
 calling the great facts of which he had been an eye-witness, 
 must have had a peculiar significancy to liis mind, he may 
 have introduced its celebration when he took up his permanent 
 residence among these churches. This hypothesis will serve to 
 explain the observance in this region of the chronology of the 
 Jewish passover. 
 
 Now in modern times it has become a prevalent opinion * 
 that the paschal supper which the Christians of Asia Minor 
 observed in remembrance of the last supper of Christ was the 
 point by which they determined the time of Easter. But it 
 may be questioned whether the most trustworthy and the 
 oldest document on this controversy—the letter of Polycrates 
 bishop of Ephesus!—favours this view.! From the language 
 
 * The first occasion to which was given by the Dissertation published 
 by myself in the 2nd Hefte des Kirchenhistorischen Archiv’s von Vater, 
 J. 1823. See the history of the treatises on this subject,—a subject ren¬ 
 dered obscure and difficult by a deficiency of ancient documents and the 
 ambiguity of the term Pascha, —in Illgen’s Zeitschrift fiir die historische 
 Theologie, Bd. II. 4tes Stuck. J. 1832, by Dr. Rettberg. 
 
 f Euseb. 1. V. c. 24. The fragments (preserved in the Chronicon 
 paschale Alexandrinum) of a work, by Apollinaris of Hierapolis, on the 
 feast of the Passover, of which I have made much use in the above-men¬ 
 tioned Dissertation, is, to say the least, suspicious ; in the first place, no 
 such work is mentioned in the ancient lists of the writings of Apollinaris, 
 in Eusebius, in Jerome, and in Photius ; and, secondly, it were singular 
 if in the district where he wrote the usage of the church in Asia Minor 
 was not followed. 
 
 J Polycrates, in the letter referred to, says of his predecessors, n««; 
 
 Inior/rav rUv iiy.lguv viif Ticr<ru.QicrKai&ixtt.Tn; rov < ru<r%ci xara. ro euxyysXiov. 
 
 This, to say the least, is singularly expressed, if it is to be understood as 
 referring only to the paschal supper to be held on the evening of this day, 
 which supper, according to the gospel narrative of Christ’s last paschal 
 supper, was believed should be held on the eve of the Jewish feast of the 
 passover, on the fourteenth day of the month Nisan. Afterwards it is said, 
 
CONCERNING THE PASSOVER. 
 
 413 
 
 of this document it would seem rather to follow that in the 
 churches of Asia Minor the Christians who followed the tra¬ 
 dition of St. John went on the supposition that the 14th day 
 of the month Nisan must be regarded as the day of Christ’s 
 passion. Hence they believed that this day ought for ever to 
 lie set apart for the commemoration of Christ’s passion, espe¬ 
 cially since the paschal lamb, which was slain by the Jews on 
 this day, was considered a foretype of the sacrifice of Christ.* 
 At all events, however, one point is settled, that in Asia 
 Minor the paschal feast was kept according to the Jewish 
 reckoning. Consequently it would occasionally happen that 
 the commemoration of Christ’s passion would fall on another day 
 of the week than Friday, and that of His resurrection on a 
 different day than Sunday. When, on the other hand, in the 
 course of the second century, annual feasts were everywhere 
 observed in the Western churches, men proceeded from a dif¬ 
 ferent point of view in determining them. Following the same 
 method as had been observed in settling the weekly festivals, 
 Christians held it necessary that a Friday should always be 
 set apart to the memory of Christ’s passion, and a Sunday to 
 that of His resurrection. 
 
 This difference of custom existed at first without such a 
 mere external thing being deemed of sufficient importance 
 to be made a matter of dispute; it was still kept in mind 
 that the kingdom of God consists neither in meat nor drink, 
 nor any other kind of external action. 
 
 This difference, together with several others, between the 
 church of Asia Minor and the church of Rome, first came into 
 discussion in the year 162, when Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, 
 made a visit to Anicetus, bishop of Rome.I Polycarp ap- 
 
 H avrori 71 /xtgtt.v liyayov o! trvyyiviis fnov, oVav tuv ’loubizluv o Xai; riowi rhv 
 Z,v^ni. What sense 'would this afford if the subject of discourse were the 
 paschal supper ? It is, in fact, evident of itself that the paschal supper 
 could be held only on the day when the Jews removed the leaven from their 
 houses. This would be idem per idem. On the other hand, everything is 
 consistent if we suppose that the writer is speaking of a festival in remem¬ 
 brance of Christ’s passion, on the fourteenth of the month Nisan. The 
 proof here appealed to is the gospel, by which may be understood either 
 the evangelical history generally, or the gospel of John in particular. 
 
 * Comp. Justin M. Dial. c. Tryph. Jud. f. 259, and f. 338, ed. Colon. 
 
 f At any rate, if we may judge from the language of Irenseus, cited 
 by Eusebius, the object of Polycarp's journey to Rome was not to settle 
 the disputes respecting Easter. No disputes on this question had as yet 
 
414 
 
 CONTROVERSY 
 
 pealed to the circumstance that he had himself observed such 
 a passover with the Apostle John, whose disciple he was. 
 Anicetus alleged that his predecessors (in a church consisting 
 of Gentile Christians who followed St. Paul) had introduced 
 nothing of that sort.* But as it was not supposed that the 
 apostles had entirely coincided in sucli outward matters, or 
 that they would have considered uniformity in sucli things to 
 be necessary, it was thought that a difference on these points 
 might be allowed to continue without prejudice to the fellow¬ 
 ship and unity of Christians. As a token that the bond of 
 Christian brotherhood was not disturbed by such, and, as it 
 seems, other still more important points of difference, Anicetus 
 permitted Polycarp to preside in the church in place of himself 
 at the celebration of the Lord’s supper. 
 
 If the two books which, about the year 171, the bishop 
 Melito, of Sardis, wrote upon Easter,f referred to this dis¬ 
 pute, it must about this time have broken out anew. However, 
 it cannot be proved that the work contained any reference of 
 that sort. The typical explanation of the Jewish passover 
 might have led to the composition of such a work, indepen¬ 
 dently of this controversy. 
 
 But about 190 a.d., when Victor was bishop of the Roman 
 church,J the controversy broke out afresh. On the one side 
 
 arisen; and the conversation upon it seems to have been introduced inci¬ 
 dentally while they were speaking of other points of difference between 
 the churches. Neither is it by any means clear, although it is possible, 
 that the object of the journey was to discuss those other differences. 
 More importance has been sometimes attributed to this visit than it can 
 be proved historically to have possessed. 
 
 * The matter is obscure, as we have in our hands only a fragment of 
 the letter of Irenteus apart from the context. Perhaps even then there 
 was not as yet any yearly feast in the Roman church ; perhaps the dif¬ 
 ference at that lime had reference to this very point,—the conflict between 
 the ancient rites according to St. Paul, and the more recent ones accord¬ 
 ing to St. John. I speak here only by way of conjecture. 
 
 f Euseb. 1. IV. c. 26. 
 
 \ From the fact that Irenmus, in his letter to Victor, holds up only 
 those Roman bishops who preceded Soter as patterns of toleration, I 
 formerly inferred that the change had taken place under the latter ; but 
 if we observe how the phrases in Ireiitcus, cl (w^3) 'lurries or^urfhursooi and 
 cl ergo (rev orgs.trfivTi£oi, answer to each other, it becomes evident that no 
 stress is to be laid on the former. Irenoeus means simply to say that 
 difference, and withal that tolerance, did not first begin under the last 
 bishops, but existed even before Soter. 
 

 CONCERNING THE RASSOVEE. 410 
 
 stood the church of Rome, supported by the churches of 
 Caesarea in Palestine, of Jerusalem, of Tyre, and of Alexan¬ 
 dria ; on the other were the churches of Asia Minor, headed 
 by Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus. 
 
 The Roman bishop, actuated by that hierarchical spirit 
 which we have already seen traces of in the Roman church,* 
 excommunicated the churches of Asia Minor on account of 
 this trivial dispute; but this unchristian proceeding did not 
 fail to encounter decided resistance in an age when the gospel 
 spirit still survived. Irenams, in the name of the churches at 
 Lyons and Vienne, wrote to Victor, sharply rebuking his con¬ 
 duct. lie holds up to the shame of Victor the example of his 
 predecessor, Anicetus, and declared to him, “ Notwithstanding 
 these differences, we live together in peace, and our disagree* 
 ment in regulating the fasts serves only to make our unity of 
 faith the more clearly evident.” In the same letter, or another 
 occasioned by the same controversy, he says, “The apostles 
 have directed us to let no man judge us in meat or in drink, 
 or in respect of a holy day, or of the new moon, or of Sabbath 
 days. Why then these disputes, why these divisions ? We 
 observe fasts, but it is with the sour leaven of malice and 
 wickedness, for we rend the church of God; we observe 
 externals, but we omit the weightier matters of faith and love. 
 We learn, however, from the prophets, that such feasts and 
 such fasts are an abomination to the Lord.” 
 
 As Friday was customarily considered a day of penitence 
 and fasting preparatory to the celebration of the Resurrection 
 on Sunday, so in these churches, where one Friday in the year 
 was. particularly consecrated to the commemoration of the 
 passion of Christ, and one Sunday to that of His resurrection, 
 it n as usual to make this I riday a day of penitence and fasting' 
 prepai atory to the greatest Christian festival, the celebration 
 on Easter Sunday of Christ’s resurrection. With respect, 
 however, to the duration of this season of fasting, nothing was 
 determined. An imitation of our Lord’s temptation for'forty 
 days in the wilderness led in some places to the extension of 
 this fast to forty hours, out of which there afterwards arose the 
 forty days’,| or Quadragesimal fast. 
 
 The festival of the Resurrection was followed by that of 
 
 * See above, p. 298. 
 
 f Iremeus, in Euseb. 1. V. c. 24. 
 
416 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE FEASTS OF 
 
 Pentecost (Whitsuntide). Its object was to commemorate 
 the risen and glorified Christ, as He revealed Himself to the 
 faithful, and ultimately manifested His self-subsistent partici¬ 
 pation of the divine life, by the effusion of the Holy Spirit. 
 All this, as the sum of the operations of the ascended and 
 glorified Redeemer, was embraced in this continuous festival of 
 fifty days. It must be evident from this how closely con¬ 
 nected in the Christian consciousness at this period were the 
 conceptions of Christ’s resurrection and ascension.* The 
 entire period was observed as Sunday; that is, there was no 
 fasting throughout the whole ; prayers were made standing 
 and not kneeling ; it was perhaps also the case (in many of the 
 churches at least) that the people assembled daily and cele¬ 
 brated the communion.| Afterwards, two special events—the 
 ascension of Christ, and the effusion of the Holy Spirit—were 
 selected out of all those commemorated in this whole period, and 
 to them the celebration of Pentecost was henceforth confined. 
 
 These feasts, as it would appear from the passage cited from 
 
 * This mode of contemplating the subject was still adopted also by 
 Origen, and it accounts for the way in which he places in juxtaposition 
 with the weekly feasts, the •rufia.axiva.l and xv^iaxai, the yearly feasts, the 
 aD( l wsyrsjKotf’Tw, regarding the feast of the Resurrection as the 
 point at which the feast of Pentecost began. Hence he observes, “ Who¬ 
 ever in sincerity of heart can say, God has raised us up and set us with 
 Him in heavenly places, celebrates constantly the feast of Pentecost.” 
 ('O ouvci/Aivo; /xiTcc aXvSi/a; X'tynv, trvvcinjrnujlv tu Xoitrrui, aXXa xa.1 ro 
 evmytxai GUvixcc^iGiv iifta; fv ro7s iTou^avi'ois tv XpiGra, all tv tu.7; 
 t?,; V£vrxxfTr>is Ol’ig. C. Cels. 1. VIII. C. 22. 
 
 f Tertullian, de orat. c. 23, when he says that men abstained from 
 worldly business on Sunday, and afterwards transfers all the solemnities 
 of Sunday to the Pentecost, would almost lead us to infer that the former 
 practice also was observed through the whole of Pentecost; which, how¬ 
 ever, is hardly credible. De Idololatria, c. 14, wishing to keep Chris¬ 
 tians from taking any part in the heathen festivals, he says, Excerpe 
 singulas sollennitates nationum, Pentecosten implere non poterunt. The 
 first trace of a limitation of the Pentecost to one day is to be found per¬ 
 haps in the 43rd canon of the council of Elvira. This certainly most 
 obscure canon seems naturally to admit of being understood as implying 
 that some had selected out of the whole time of Pentecost the feast of As¬ 
 cension for peculiar veneration. On the other hand, by the Pentecost the 
 council understands only the feast of the Effusion of the Holy Spirit, and 
 therefore requires that it be celebrated fifty days after Easter/ It charges 
 the former, who had but made a wrong application of the name of Pentecost, 
 with departing from the authority of scripture. Ut cuncti diem Pentecostes 
 post Pascha celebremus, non quadragesimam, nisi quinquagesimam. 
 
CHRISTMAS AND EPIPHANY. 
 
 417 
 
 Origen, were the only ones generally observed at this date. 
 That fundamental view of the whole Christian life, whicli 
 referred everything to Christ’s sufferings, resurrection, and 
 glorious ascension, and both the accommodation of and the op¬ 
 position to the Jewish festivals, were l’easons why these should 
 be the only general festivals. The idea of a birthday festival 
 was far from the minds of the Christians generally at this 
 period; they regarded the second birth as man’s true birth. 
 "With the birth of the Saviour , indeed, the case must have 
 been somewhat different. By Him human nature was to be 
 sanctified from its earliest period. But this fact would not 
 at first present itself very strongly to the minds of the earlier 
 Christians, so many of whom when they embraced Chris¬ 
 tianity were advanced in years. It was, moreover, only by 
 degrees that Christianity could pass into all the relations of 
 domestic life. Besides, it was, in truth, unknown what time 
 ought to be fixed for the celebration of the Nativity, since 
 nothing definite was ascertained respecting the date of his 
 birth. I he case was entirely different with those more ancient 
 annual festivals. 
 
 let even in this period we find some trace, we think, of the 
 festival of Christmas. The history of it is closely connected 
 with the history of another kindred festival, that of the Epi¬ 
 phany, the manifestation of Jesus in his character of Messiah 
 on Ills consecration to the office at His baptism by John, and 
 of the beginning of His public ministry, called afterwards the 
 EopTi] tw v ETTKpaviihv, -ijg hri(j>aveiag tov Xpiarov. We find in 
 later times that these festivals spread in opposite directions; 
 that of Christmas extending itself from the West to the East’ 
 and the latter from the East to the West.* Clement of 
 
 . I ' The fcast of Epiphany, considered as the festival of Christ’s bap¬ 
 tism, stood in high consideration towards the close of the fourth century 
 at Antioch while the introduction of the Christmas festival, which came 
 from the West, met there with much opposition. Several of the Eastern 
 churches (among whom the festival of Christmas was first introduced 
 in the last part of the fourth century, or still later, while the feast of 
 Christs baptism had been longer known) afterwards united both feasts 
 together, just as in the Western churches a somewhat different meaning 
 was given to the new feast of Epiphany, which came to them from the 
 East, l he Donatists refused to adopt the feast of Epiphany, considering 
 it as an innovation coming from the Eastern church. Quia nec oriental! 
 ecclesiae, ubi apparuit ilia Stella, communicant. Augustini Sermo, 202, 
 s. 2. I hese are only preliminary remarks, introduced here in order to 
 
 VOE. I. 2 E 
 
418 
 
 ACTS OF WORSHIP. 
 
 Alexandria simply observes that the Gnostic sect of the Basili- 
 dians in his time kept the latter festival at Alexandria. The 
 idea, however, can scarcely be admitted, that this sect invented 
 the festival, though they may have been interested in observ¬ 
 ing it on doctrinal grounds; for the catholic church would 
 never have adopted it from the Gnostics. The Gnostics had 
 most probably borrowed it from Jewish Christian churches in 
 Palestine or Syria. It probably originated with Jewish 
 Christians ; for to their peculiar mode of thinking, this mo¬ 
 ment in the life of Jesus must have appeared most important. 
 The Gnostics afterwards gave it their own interpretation. 
 Clement speaks, at the same time, of individuals who were 
 disposed to calculate not only the year but also the day of the 
 Nativity, and indeed seems to censure such inquiries as idle 
 and unprofitable, in which, moreover, it was impossible to 
 arrive at any certainty. He does not, indeed, say that they 
 kept the day which they thus attempted to determine, as a 
 festival; yet it is probable that the day which they took so 
 much pains to reckon, they also solemnly observed; and the 
 general tenor of the passage in Clement would seem to indi¬ 
 cate that this was his meaning.* Moreover, he could not 
 have been alluding to the Gnostics, of whom he afterwards 
 speaks, for the festival of Christmas stood in direct contradic¬ 
 tion to their system. Thus these two feasts answer to two 
 stages of Christian intuition, a lower and a higher; to that 
 which attached itself immediately to Judaism, and to the 
 Christian stage carried out to an independent development; the 
 view of Jesus as the anointed of the Holy Spirit, armed with 
 divine powers for his work as the Messiah, and of Jesus as the 
 God-man, the Word become flesh, whose humanity was from 
 the beginning filled with the divine essence. We now pass to 
 the consideration of the several parts of Christian worship. 
 
 4. The several parts of Christian Worship. 
 
 The nature of the single acts of Christian worship will be 
 evident from what we have remarked respecting its essence 
 
 confirm the conjecture advanced above; the subject will be resumed in 
 the following period. _ , , , , 
 
 * Clemens Stromat. 1.1. f. 340 : EW Si o\ 3 -sps^»T£«»> t? yiil<n 
 
 too currioo; * ou fjoivov to ito;, a-XXa. xa'i Tttf yifiloav orooffnBsvTl;' oi Ci a.7rcr 
 BamXtl'boo xai too (oaTT'io-paTo; avroo rhv n/xioav i o £ t a. '( o u a h 
 
HEADING THE SCRIPTURES. 
 
 419 
 
 generally. As the common elevation of the heart and spirit 
 to God, the illumination of the spirit conjointly with the 
 sanctification of the heart, was the end of the whole religion, 
 so instruction and edification by the common study of the 
 divine word and common prayer, constituted, from the first, a 
 principal part of Christian worship. And the form of this, 
 like that of the constitution of the church, resembled probably 
 that of the Jewish synagogues, where also the spiritual reli¬ 
 gious element predominated.* * * § As in the synagogues of the 
 Jews the reading of portions from the Old Testament formed 
 the basis of religious instruction, a similar practice passed into 
 the Christian assemblies. The Old Testament was first read, ) 
 particularly the prophetic parts of it, as referring to the Mes¬ 
 siah ; then the gospels, and finally the apostolical epistles. 
 
 . reading oLthe ^criptures was of the greater consequence 
 since it was desirable that eveiy Christian should lie familiar 
 with them ; and yet, in consequence of the rarity and costliness 
 of manuscripts, and the poverty of the great majority of the 
 Christians, or perhaps because all could not read, it was idle to 
 think of placing the Bible itself in the hands of all. The fre¬ 
 quent hearing the word must therefore, in the case of many, 
 be a substitute for reading it. The scriptures were read in the 
 language that all could understand. This, in most of the 
 countries belonging to the Roman empire, was either the 
 Greek or the Latin. Various translations of the Bible into 
 Latin made their appearance at a very early period ; since 
 eveiy one who had a slight knowledge of Greek felt a desire 
 to make the word of God his own in his native tongue.j - 
 In places where the Greek or the Latin language was only 
 understood by a part of the community, the educated class, while 
 the rest were acquainted only with the ancient dialect of their 
 country (as was the case in many cities of Egypt and Syria), 
 the church appointed interpreters, like those in the Jewish syna¬ 
 gogues,J who on the spot translated what had been read into 
 the provincial dialect, in order to make it intelligible to all.§ 
 
 * See my History of the Planting, &c., Yol. I. p. 39. 
 
 f Augustin, de doctrina Christiana, 1. II. c. 11. 
 
 + The Dragomans. 
 
 § E ouwtvra .1 y\utr<rrii u; yXuurau.'), jj sti ra7; avuyvafftmv, w iy ra~; 
 <rou.,\icas. Epiphan. exposit. fid. Cathol. c. 21. Procopius, the 
 martji in the persecution ol Dioclesian, united in his own person, at 
 
 2 e 2 
 
420 
 
 SERMONS — SINGING. 
 
 As early as the third century (to judge from the complete 
 liturgies of the fourth which are known to us) it was the 
 practice for the deacons, before the Anagnost began to read, 
 to exhort, the community, in a certain customary form of 
 words, to attention and devotion in listening to the divine 
 word.* 
 
 The reading of the scriptures was followed, as in the Jewish 
 synagogues, by short, and originally very simple addresses , in 
 familiar language, the momentary effusions of the heart, which 
 gave an exposition and application of what had been read. On 
 this point Justin Martyr thus expresses himself: j “ The ruler 
 of the church delivers a word of exhortation, and incites the 
 people to imitate the good examples they had heard.” It 
 was among the Greeks, among whom a taste for rhetoric pre¬ 
 vailed, that the sermon first began to take a wider scope, and 
 to assume an important place among the acts of worship. J 
 
 Sinking , also, passed from the Jewish service into the 
 Christian church. The Apostle St. Paul even exhorts the 
 primitive churches to sing spiritual songs. For this purpose 
 were used either the psalms of the Old Testament, or hymns 
 composed expressly for this object , especially hymns of praise 
 and of thanks to God and to Christ. These Pliny speaks of 
 as customary among the Christians of his time. In the con¬ 
 troversies with the Unitarians (at the end of the second and 
 the beginning of the third centuries) the hymns were appealed 
 to in which from the earliest times Christ had been worshipped 
 
 Scythopolis in Palestine, the offices of Anagnost, exorcist, and interpreter 
 (from the Greek into Syriac). See his Acta. 
 
 * As we also see from the words of Commodian against the speaking, 
 particularly of the female sex, in the church :— 
 
 Buccina praeconura clamat, lectore legente, 
 
 Ut pateant aures, et tu raagis obstruis illas. 
 
 L. c. c. 76. 
 
 t Apolog. II. 
 
 X When Sozomen, hist, eccles. 1. VII. c. 19, who wrote in the first 
 half of the fifth century, says that the practice of preaching did not exist 
 in the Roman church, the remark could in no case have reference to the 
 early times; hut supposing the statement is to be depended upon, it 
 would simply amount to this, that by the multitude of outward ceremo¬ 
 nies and liturgical pomp the sermon was finally pushed into the back¬ 
 ground. But the fact may have been that this Eastern writer was 
 deceived by false accounts from the West. And the mistake may have 
 arisen from observing that the sermon in the Roman church did not occupy 
 so important a placeJn public worship as it did in the Greek church. 
 
THE SACRAMENTS. 
 
 421 
 
 as God. The power of church music on the heart was soon 
 acknowledged. Accordingly, all those who, like Bardasanes 
 or Paul of Samosata, were desirous of propagating peculiar 
 opinions of their own, endeavoured to spread them by means 
 of hymns. 
 
 The visible church required visible signs for the spiritual 
 facts on which its inward essence rests. Christ therefore, who 
 intended to found a visible church, instituted two outward signs , 
 as symbols of the invisible fellowship between Him, the Head 
 of the spiritual body, and its members, the believers, as well 
 as of the union of these members not only with Himself j but 
 with one another. They were to be visible means of repre¬ 
 senting the invisible heavenly benefits communicated by Him 
 to the members of this body. And with the believing use of 
 these signs, furnished to the outward senses , was to be con¬ 
 nected the enjoyment in the inward man of that fellowship 
 and of those heavenly benfits. As in the whole of Christianity 
 and the whole Christian life there is nothing which stands 
 separate and by itself, but all, radiating from a common 
 centre, forms one whole, so, in the present case, what is repre¬ 
 sented by these outward signs was to be something which 
 should permeate the whole inward life of the Christian, some¬ 
 thing which from one single moment of that life should diffuse 
 itself over the whole of it, and again be specially awakened 
 by other single moments, and carried still farther onward 
 by them. Such was baptism, the sign of the first admission 
 into communion with the Redeemer and with His church, the 
 first appropriation of the benefits which Pie has bestowed on 
 mankind—the forgiveness, viz., of sins and the inward union 
 of life thence resulting, and the participation in a divine sanc¬ 
 tifying spirit. Such too was the Lord's supper, the sign of 
 a constantly advancing perseverance in this fellowship and in 
 the appropriation and enjoyment of these benefits; the two 
 representing the essentials of the whole inner life of the 
 Christian, in its first rise and its progressive development. 
 The whole peculiar spirit of the Christian worship stamped 
 itself distinctly on the mode in which these outward signs 
 of divine realities were administered; and the mode of their 
 administration again reacted strongly upon the character of the 
 worship. The connection of the momentous things these 
 outward signs represented with the whole of the Christian 
 
422 
 
 BAPTISM. 
 
 life, the union of the inward and divine with the outward rites, 
 were present to the lively Christian feeling's of the early 
 believers. It was, however, a source of great practical mis¬ 
 chief, as we formerly observed with regard to the doctrine of 
 the church, that men neglected duly to separate and distin¬ 
 guish in their conceptions what was connected together in their 
 feelings. It was from this source that proceeded the outward 
 conception, not merely of the church, but also of those symbols 
 which were so closely connected with the being of the church. 
 And one kind of outward conception reacted upon the other. 
 
 To speak first of baptism : At the beginning, when it was 
 important that the church should rapidly extend itself, those 
 (among the Jews) who confessed their belief in Jesus as the 
 Messiah, or (among the Gentiles) their belief in one God, 
 and in Jesus as the Messiah, were, as appears from the New 
 Testament, immediately baptized. In course of time, how¬ 
 ever, it was thought necessary that those who unshed to be 
 received into the church should be prepared by a careful 
 instruction and a strict examination.* This class of persons 
 
 * I cannot see any good or sufficient grounds for the assertion advanced 
 by Dr. Kothe in his interesting tract (De discipline arcani, qua dicitur, 
 in ecclesia Christiana origine. Heidelberg, 1841), that the instruction 
 and examination of catechumens related in the first place to matters of 
 practice only, and that an important change took place when, at a later 
 period, the instruction and examination were directed to matters of 
 theory. Both were from the beginning united together, as Christianity 
 required. This is clear also from the passage in the greater Apology of 
 Justin Martyr, s. 61, where he says of those who are preparing them¬ 
 selves for baptism, 'Otroi av •zutrSutn xai vritfnvutriv dXtjQij rccvru tu. 
 r,uM)i diotztrxofxivu. xca XiyofjLiia. i’lvcu y.a) jSi ojv ollru; $uvxir3-ca vricr%vuvr(Z,t. 
 
 Here instruction in doctrine is assuredly presupposed, and the cor¬ 
 responding couduct of life derived from it, both being supposed to be so 
 united with each other, that those who wished to receive baptism should 
 declare themselves convinced of the truth of the doctrines they had been 
 taught, and bind themselves to rule their lives by them,—the very method 
 of uniting doctrine and practice which in the instruction of catechumens 
 must prevail at all periods. It is beyond my power to conceive what 
 conclusion can be drawn from the words of Celsus, 1. ill. c. 50, with 
 regard to the instruction of catechumens; for these words are totally 
 foreign to the subject, having reference simply to the mode which the 
 Christians adopted of seeking first to gain access to the uneducated, to 
 slaves and youth, and bring "them over to Christianity. Neither has the 
 mutual relation which subsists between Clement’s two works (the 
 Psedagogue and the Stromata) anything to do with the present subject. 
 It answers to the relation of the ar/ar// to the y\u<n; among the Alexan- 
 
PREPARATION FOR IT. 
 
 423 
 
 were denominated catechumens ^arrjy^ov/ievoL, dtcpoarm, audi- 
 tores or audientes). By these appellations were designated 
 all such as were receiving their primary instruction in Chris¬ 
 tianity, and who as such were only permitted to hear the 
 scriptures read and the word preached, without being allowed 
 to partake of the holy communion. The length of probation 
 must have been determined by the different conditions of 
 individuals; yet the council of Elvira fixed the period gene¬ 
 rally at two years. Originally there was but one common 
 name for all who had not as yet received baptism, but were 
 in the state of probation and preparation. But as different 
 stages and gradations were here distinguished, these were also 
 designated by particular names. Accordingly in Origen we 
 find the catechumens separated into two classes. 1. Those 
 who were receiving private instruction, and 2. Those who 
 were admitted to the meetings of the church, and who were 
 immediately preparing for baptism.* 
 
 For the private instruction of these catechumens no distinct 
 office was instituted in the church. At Carthage the duty 
 devolved, after a period of probation, on some individual who 
 had distinguished himself among the church readers, who there- * 
 upon assumed the title of catechist. At Alexandria, where it 
 often happened that men of education, even learned men, and 
 persons accustomed to philosophical speculations, applied for 
 instruction in Christianity, it was necessary that the catechists 
 should be men of liberal education, and able to satisfy the 
 doubts and objections of heathens, and to meet them on their 
 own ground. Able and learned laymen were therefore here 
 selected; and this class of catechists led afterwards to the 
 
 drians; and the Gnosis assuredly could not be taught to catechumens. 
 Instruction in the fundamental doctrines of Christianity is quite another 
 thing. 
 
 * Origen, c. Cels. 1. III. c. 51, says that to those who wished to em¬ 
 brace Christianity instruction was first imparted privately (by this 
 circumstance he explains the name When they had sufficiently 
 
 attested the sincerity of their purpose of leading a Christian life, they 
 were introduced into the church ; 'ro'rnvixubs aurov; ihruyouaiv, iiia filv 
 troiYi<rciv<ri$ r ra.yf/,a, 'tojv oign a.^^of/,ivu>v xu.) ziffa.yof/.lvojv xaA ovb'irfoj <ro ffvujfio\o)> 
 
 rod ^oxiy.cr,3uftcu uniXviporcov. The last distinction evidently shows 
 that they ought to be distinguished from the baptized, who are afterwards 
 spoken of. It was only of the moral oversight of the baptized members 
 of the'church that he is afterwards speaking. And so Origen describes, 
 not three, but two classes of catechumens. 
 
424 
 
 APOSTOLIC CREED. 
 
 formation of an important theological school among the Chris¬ 
 tians at Alexandria.* * * § 
 
 Even in the New Testament some traces of a confessioii of 
 faith , to be made at baptism, are to be found.f Such confessions 
 of faith were afterwards enlarged so as to be protests against 
 Jews, heathens, and heretics. They were intended to embrace 
 the essentials of Christianity, on which all churches were 
 agreed. It was believed that the doctrine contained in these 
 creeds proceeded from the apostles ; that it was the doctrine 
 which they set forth both by word of mouth and by their 
 writings ; but it was by no means the opinion of the first ages 
 that the apostles had drawn up any such confession. In the 
 former sense it was called the Krjpvyfia diroaToXiKov , the iruna- 
 cocnc a7rooToXto/; a misunderstanding of this phrase afterwards 
 gave birth to the fiction that the apostles had verbally com¬ 
 posed such a creed.i This formula of confession was in these 
 ages designated by the distinctive term of Symbolum. It 
 may be a question whether this use of the word Symbolum 
 was adopted in its general meaning of “a sign,” to signify 
 that the words of the confession were a characteristic, repre¬ 
 sentative sign of the faith, or in its particular application as 
 the avfx€o\ov arpariUTiKoy, the tessera militaris: to indicate 
 that the confession was, as it were, the watchword of the miles 
 Christi, communicated to every one on his admission into the 
 militia Christi. So far as we can trace the history of the 
 phrase, the first seems to be the more probable supposition ; 
 for where the word Symbolum first occurs in connection with 
 baptism, it has only that general signification^ 
 
 * More on this whole subject hereafter, in the section relating to the 
 Alexandrian school. 
 
 t See 1 Pet. iii. 21.— 1 Tim. vi. 12, is not so clear, as this might per¬ 
 haps refer to a profession voluntarily made by Timothy, on the impulse 
 of his own feelings, on a special occasion, when he was chosen and con¬ 
 secrated as a missionary to the heathen. 
 
 X Rufin. exposit. symbol, apostol 
 
 § As, for example, where Tertullian, de pcenitentia, c. 6, says that 
 baptism, which by its nature should be a symbolum vitte, becomes to 
 those who receive it without the right disposition a symbolum mortis. 
 So in his work, contr. Marcion. 1. V. c. 1, symbolum is used by him as 
 equivalent to mark or sign generally. So in the letter of Firmilianus of 
 Csesarea, where the “symbolum trinitatis” is expressly distinguished 
 from the confession of faith, and employed as a designation of the 
 formula of baptism (Baptismus), cui nec symbolum trinitatis nec interro- 
 
ITS MEANING AND DESIGN. 
 
 425 
 
 The word o-iipgoXor, symbolum, with its pregnancy of 
 meanings, would not fail to give occasion to many different 
 religious allusions and applications. But the one that soon 
 became predominant was that which agreed with the fa¬ 
 vourite comparison among the earl}'- Christians between their 
 vocation and a military service (militia). In the Alexandrian 
 church, however, where a taste prevailed for tracing analogies 
 with the heathen mysteries, and sometimes, indeed, in a way 
 but little suited to the simple character of the gospel, the term 
 was compared to the password of the initiated.* Others 
 again insisted on another meaning of the word “ Symbolum,” 
 by which it stood for a commercial partnership; as if the 
 pledge of a spiritual fellowship was the thing designed by it.f 
 Again, the legend recorded by llufin, ^ which ascribed the 
 authorship of a creed to the apostles, introduced the notion 
 that this confession had been formed, article by article, by contri¬ 
 butions from each of the apostles, the term irdpfioXo?', <7iyt6oXj7, 
 being for this purpose taken in the sense of contribution. 
 
 This confession was put into the hands of the catechumens 
 as containing the essentials of Christianity. Many who, after 
 much inquiry and the study of different religious works, and 
 reading the scriptures for themselves, had been led to embrace 
 the faith, did not of course need it to impart to them a know¬ 
 ledge of the elements of Christianity, In their case it could 
 only serve as a means of convincing them that the church 
 which they wished to join agreed in its doctrine with the holy 
 scriptures, out of which they themselves had already derived a 
 knowledge of the faith. Thus Clement of Alexandria invites 
 the heathen to convince themselves what the true Christian 
 doctrine is, by searching the scriptures, where it was to be 
 
 gatio legitima et ecclesiastica dcfuit. Again, cp. 76, Cyprian, ad Mag¬ 
 num : “ eodem symbolo baptizare," to baptize with the same formula. 
 Perhaps this word was originally nothing more than a designation of the 
 formula of baptism, and became subsequently transferred to the confes¬ 
 sion of faith. 
 
 * Stromat. 1. V. f. 582. The Asurjav compared with the y.xSagtrlois 
 of the pagan mysteries. In the designation, however, “ <pa)ri<rf*os,” we 
 cannot find any reference to the mysteries; for this term or illustration 
 is assuredly- derived from the New Testament. 
 
 t Augustin, Sermo, 212: Symbolum inter se faciuut mercatores, quo 
 eorum societas pacto fidei teneatur; et vestra societas est commercium 
 spiritualitun. J In his expositio in symbolum apostolorum. 
 
426 
 
 DEAL TRADITION 
 
 found, if only they would but apply their mental powers to 
 distinguish the true from the plausible, the doctrine really de¬ 
 rived from the scriptures from that which merely in appearance 
 attached itself to them.* 
 
 Others, however, first obtained their knowledge of Chris¬ 
 tianity from the confession of faith and the instruction 
 imparted in connection with it, without being able, till 
 afterwards, to compare with the scriptures what they had thus 
 originally learned from human tradition. It was of these that 
 the Gnostic Heracleon remarked,! “ They are led first to 
 believe in the Saviour by the testimony of men ; but. when 
 they come to his own words they believe no longer on the 
 ground of human testimony alone, but for the sake of the 
 truth itselfand in reference to the same class Clement of 
 Alexandria says, | “ The first saving change from heathen¬ 
 ism is faith, that is, a compendious knowledge of all that is 
 necessary to salvation. On this foundation is built the 
 Gnosis , which is a solid demonstration of what has been 
 received by faith by proofs from the doctrine of our Lord.” 
 Others, who were wholly imeducated, and unable to read, 
 could only learn from the mouth of others, and could never 
 come of themselves to the very fountain of God’s word; yet 
 the divine doctrine which they imbibed from the lips of others 
 proved itself independently to be a divine power in their 
 hearts. Where the word but once found admission, an inde¬ 
 pendent Christian consciousness was capable of being thereby 
 awakened. “Many of us,” says Clement of Alexandria, 
 “ have received the divine doctrine, without the use of writings, 
 by the power of God through faith.” § 
 
 The few words of this creed needed not, of course, to be 
 communicated in writing. They were to pass into the heart 
 of the catechumen; to pass from the word of mouth into his 
 life; to be pronounced by him as his own deep conviction. 
 Aas it wished to attach some higher meaning to this so na- 
 
 Stromat. 1. "V II. f. / 54 et 55 1 A/’ clutojv T/av yoatycav ikpmv&ccvuv 
 d.iro'iiixny.us. —A laxglvuv ts cjj xuraXiiTTixri S-woia, (comprehending in¬ 
 tuition), KUA Tea xvDMTa.Tta XoyufxZ (right thinking), TO aXriSls o.fo toZ 
 QaivouAyou. f Orig. Tom. XIII. in Joann, s. 52. 
 
 X Stromat. 1. VII. f. 732, Lit. D. 
 
 § Stromat. 1. I. I. 319 : O; oi xa.. a.vsu ygcotauccTuv 'bvvaf/.it tov Tio) Qzou 
 tncrrtu>s Xoyov. 
 
OF THE CREED. 
 
 427 
 
 tural custom of teaching orally the creed ? The interpretation 
 most readily presenting itself was, that the Christian doctrine 
 could not come to men from without, by the medium of let¬ 
 ters, but must be written in their hearts by the Spirit of God, 
 and propagate itself there as a living principle. Jer. xxxi. 33.* 
 In later times a love of mystery quite alien to the simple 
 spirit of the gospel (which first arose in the Alexandrian church 
 out of a leaning towards an accommodation with the pagan 
 mysteries and from the influence of the Neo-Platonic mysti¬ 
 cism) gave to this custom the meaning that the most sacred 
 things ought not to be intrusted to writing, lest they should be 
 produced among the uninitiated, and thereby become pro¬ 
 faned ;f and this was asserted to be its meaning even while the 
 scriptures, the holiest traditions of the divine, might come 
 into the hands of every heathen, and while the apologists felt 
 no scruples in bringing before them the most sacred doctrines 
 of Christianity! 
 
 This confession of faith was made by the catechumens at 
 baptism, in answers to distinct questions. £ 
 
 A ith the oral confession of faith was also connected the de¬ 
 claration of a moral engagement. The baptismal engagement 
 was looked upon in the following light:—The candidate for 
 baptism was supposed to be leaving the kingdom of sin, of 
 darkness, of Satan, which, as a heathen devoted to his lusts, he 
 had hitherto served, and to be entering the kingdom of God 
 
 * So Augustin, Sermo 212 : Hujus rei significandse causa, audiendo 
 symbolum discitur, nec in tabulis vel in aliqua materia, sed in corde 
 scribitur. 
 
 f The like play and parade about mysteries, to which more import¬ 
 ance came to be attached than they originally possessed, led afterwards 
 to the invention of the obscure, vague, and unhistorical idea of a disci- 
 plina arcani, of which, from its very vagueness and want of foundation, 
 men could make whatever they pleased. 
 
 + According to the most natural interpretation of 1 Pet. iii. 21, it 
 refers to the question proposed at baptism. ’Emournpa., metonymice for 
 the pledge in answer to the questions. Tertullian De corona milit. c. 3: 
 Amplius aliquid respondentes, quam Dominus in evangelio determinavit. 
 Again, I ertullian, De resurrect, c. 48, respecting baptism: Anima 
 responsible sancitur. 'Die counsel of eighty-seven bishops in the time of 
 Cyprian, respecting these questions : “ Sacravientam interrogare” (sacra- 
 menturn is here equivalent to doctrina sacra). In a letter of Dionysius 
 of Alexandria, cited in Eusebius, 1. \ II. c. 9 : ’ETiocorrirus xu* ucroz^criis, 
 Cyprian, ep. 76, ad Magnum, cites one of these questions : Credis re- 
 missionem peccatorum et vitam seternam per sanctam ecclesiam? 
 
428 
 
 FORM OF RENUNCIATION. 
 
 and of Christ. He was, therefore, solemnly to renounce all 
 fellowship with that kingdom of which he had before been a sub¬ 
 ject. Giving his hand to the bishop, he pledged himself* to 
 renounce the devil and all his pomps ; meaning thereby parti¬ 
 cularly the pagan shows and things of the like nature—and his 
 angels—an expression probably based on the notion that the 
 heathen gods were evil spirits who had seduced mankind.f In 
 accordance with the favourite comparison already alluded to, 
 this pledge was regarded as the oath of the Christian soldier, 
 the sacramentum militiae christianae, whereby he bound himself 
 to live and fight as a miles Dei et Christi. 
 
 This form of renunciation, which we meet with in the se¬ 
 cond century, should be distinguished from the exorcism , which 
 could not have sprung so early out of the prevailing mode of 
 thinking in Christian antiquity. It is true the idea of a deli¬ 
 verance from the dominion of the evil spirit in a moral and 
 spiritual respect, of a separation from the kingdom of evil, and 
 of a communication by the new birth of a divine life which 
 should triumph over the principle of evil, belongs to the ori¬ 
 ginal and essential ideas of Christianity. But in fact the 
 whole rite of baptism was nothing less than a sensible repre¬ 
 sentation of this idea. There was therefore no need for adding 
 any separate act to denote or to realize that which the whole 
 act of baptism was intended to denote, and truly and effectually 
 to represent to the believer. The case was different with the 
 formula of renunciation. This, like the confession of faith, 
 had reference to what the candidate was bound, on his part, to 
 do, in order to continue to enjoy the benefit of baptism. As 
 in Christianity frith and practice are closely joined, so the 
 renunciation immediately followed the confession. We do not 
 therefore in the second century find as yet any trace of such 
 a form of exorcism. But the tendency to the outward, the 
 inclination to the magical, the fondness for pomp and display, 
 caused that those forms of exorcism which had been employed 
 in the case of the energumens or demoniacally possessed 
 should be introduced in the baptism of all heathens. Perhaps, 
 too, this chance had some connection rvith the fact that exor- 
 
 * According to Tertullian, de corona milit. c. 3, this happened twice; 
 first, before he went to baptism,—perhaps on his first admission to the 
 church assemblies; next, at baptism itself. 
 
 f '\ 7 r<>TatrtTir§cit tco CiufioXy xa'i rr, •X0/A7TW Ka.i rot; d-yy-Aci; avrou. 
 
BAPTISM OF THE SICK. 
 
 429 
 
 cisrn, which in earlier times Mas a free charisma , had become 
 generally a lifeless mechanical act, attached to a distinct office 
 in the eh arch. In the apostolical constitutions we find neither 
 the one nor the other. The first unequivocal trace of exorcism 
 in baptism is found in the acts of the council of eighty-five or 
 eighty-seven bishops which met at Carthage in the year 256.* 
 In respect to the manner of baptizing: in conformity with 
 the original institution and the original import of the symbol, 
 it was generally administered by immersion, as a sign of total 
 baptism into the Holy Spirit, of being entirely penetrated by 
 His grace.’)' It was only in the case of the sick that any 
 exception was made ; then, if the exigency required it, bap-' 
 tism was administered by sprinkling. JUany superstitious 
 persons, + clinging to the outward form, imagined that such 
 baptism by sprinkling was not fully valid ; and accordingly 
 they distinguished those who had been so baptized by the term 
 clinici. Cyprian protested strongly against this delusion. § 
 “The breast of the believer,” he says, “is washed in oneway, 
 but in another is it that the soul of man is cleansed by the 
 merits of faith. In the sacraments of salvation, the divine 
 thing, though outwardly abridged, when necessity compels and 
 God gives permission, bestows all that it implies on the faith¬ 
 ful. || And even if any one really believes that these persons 
 liave obtained nothing because they have been merely sprinkled 
 with the water of salvation, let not the latter be deceived into 
 thinking that, in case they recover from their sickness, they 
 ought to be baptized over again. But if those who have once 
 been consecrated by the baptism of the church cannot again 
 
 
 * The North African bishop Crccilius, of Bilta, by his vote in this 
 case, goes on the supposition that exorcism belonged essentially to the 
 whole act of baptism. So too the vote of the fanatical Vincentius a 
 Thibari. that the manuum impositio in exorcismo must precede the bap¬ 
 tism of heretics. But from the TCth letter of Cyprian ad Magnum the 
 presence of exorcism in baptism generally cannot be proved ; he is 
 speaking there simply of exorcism in the case of energuinens, and it is 
 rather Cyprian’s object to show that baptism is far mightier than exor¬ 
 cism. Spiritus nequam ultra remanere non possunt in hominis corpore, 
 in quo baptizato et sanctificato incipit spiritus sanctus habitare. 
 t See my Hist, of the Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 22:1. 
 j See above, p. 331. § Ep 7G ad Magnum. 
 
 || The following is the passage, which, to make it intelligible, I have 
 here rendered according to the sense:—“Totum credentibus conferunt 
 divina compendia.” 
 
430 
 
 BAPTISMAL FORMULA. 
 
 be baptized, why fill them with perplexity in regard to their 
 faith and the grace of the Lord ? Or perhaps they have, in¬ 
 deed, partaken of the grace of the Lord, but in a smaller 
 measure of the divine bounty and of the Holy Spirit; so that, 
 while they must be considered as Christians indeed, they may 
 n°t be placed on the same level with the rest ? No ; the Holy 
 .Spirit is not given by measure, but poured out in full on the 
 faithful, for if the day breaks alike on all, and if the sun 
 pours his light equally on all, how much more shall Christ, the 
 true sun and the true day of his church, distribute the light of 
 eternal life with unstinted equality ! ” 
 
 The baptismal formula, in the name of the Father, Son, and 
 Holy Ghost, which is quoted as the traditional one by Justin 
 Martyr, is perhaps not the oldest. The latter, perhaps, was a 
 shorter formula which referred only to Christ, to which there 
 seems an allusion in the New Testament, and which Marcion 
 also insisted on in his attempt to bring about his restoration 
 of the original gospel, and which, moreover, amid the disputes 
 concerning the baptism of heretics, was specially recognised. 
 But be this as it may, the shorter formula, it must be allowed, 
 contains within it all that the longer one exhibits more fully 
 set forth and unfolded.* 
 
 Baptism at first was administered only to adults, as men 
 were accustomed to conceive baptism and faith as strictly con¬ 
 nected. There does not appear to be any reason for deriving 
 infant baptism from an apostolical institution,•(- and the recog¬ 
 nition of it which follow'ed somewhat later, as an apostolical 
 tradition, serves to confirm this hypothesis. Irenteus is the 
 first father of the church in whom we find any allusion to 
 infant baptism, and in his mode of expressing himself on the 
 
 * See my History of file Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 222. [Surely the 
 fair presumption that the Apostles used the form dictated by their Lord 
 cannot be set aside by what at most seems an allusion and the practice 
 of a heretic.— Eng. jEd.'] 
 
 t The same, p. 224, fF. [Does not the apostle’s argument, 1 Cor. 
 vii. 14, “Else were your children unclean, but now are they holy," 
 afford at least a presumption in favour of the apostolic institution ot 
 infant baptism? If, according to Neander himself, or, at least, to his 
 paraphrase of Ireneeus, infant baptism is the medium by which sanctifi¬ 
 cation through Christ is appropriated to children, how could they be 
 holy without baptism? The expressions, too, in Acts xvi. 15, 33, imply 
 at least that infants were baptized, until it can be shown that in “ her 
 household” and among “ all his” there were none but adults.— Eng. Ed.~\ 
 
INFANT BAPTISM. 
 
 431 
 
 subject lie implies at the same time its connection with the 
 essence of the Christian consciousness, and testifies to the pro¬ 
 found Christian idea, out of which infant baptism arose, and 
 which finally procured its universal recognition. 
 
 Irenaeus wishes to show that Christ did not disturb the de¬ 
 velopment of that human nature which tvas to be sanctified by 
 Him, but sanctified it in all the several stages of its natural 
 course. “ Pie came to redeem all by Himself; all who, 
 through Him, are born again unto God ; infants, little children, 
 boys, young men and old. Therefore he passed through every 
 age: for the infants He became an infant, sanctifying the 
 infants; among the little children he became a little child, 
 to sanctify those who are of this age, and at the same time to 
 present to them an example of piety, uprightness, and obedi¬ 
 ence ; among the young men he became a young man, that lie 
 might set them an example and sanctify them to the Lord.” * 
 It is here especially important to observe that infants (in¬ 
 fantes) are expressly distinguished from children (parvulis), 
 and that Christ could also benefit them by His example ; 
 and that they are represented as capable of receiving from 
 Christ, who had also lived through their period of life, simply 
 an objective sanctification. This sanctification is imparted to 
 them, in so far as they are born again to God through 
 Christ. Now in the mind of Iren am s regeneration and bap¬ 
 tism are intimately connected ; and it is difficult to conceive 
 how the term “ being born again” can be employed, with re¬ 
 spect to this age, to denote anything else than baptism. Infant 
 baptism, then, appears here to be the medium through which 
 the principle of sanctification, imparted by Christ to human 
 nature from its earliest development, became appropriated to 
 children. The very idea of infant baptism implies that Christ, 
 through the divine life which he imparted to and revealed in 
 human nature, sanctified that nature from its earliest germ. 
 The child born in a Christian family was to have this advantage, 
 that he did not first come to Christianity out of heathenism, 
 
 * Irenaeus, 1. II. c. 22, s. 4: Omnes enim per semetipsum venit sal- 
 vare : omnes, inquam, qui per eum renascuntur in Deum, infantes et 
 parvulos et pueros et juvenes et seniores. Ideo per omnem venit aetatem, 
 et infantibus infans factus, sanctificans infantes; in parvulis, parvulus, 
 sanctificans hanc ipsam habentes tetatem, simul et exemplum illis pietatis 
 effectus, et justitiEe et subjectionis; in juvenibus, juvenis, exemplum 
 juvenibus fiens et sanctificans Domino. 
 
432 
 
 INFANT BAPTISM. 
 
 or the natural life of sin, but that from the first dawning of 
 consciousness lie should grow up under the imperceptible pre¬ 
 venting influences of a sanctifying, ennobling Christianity,— 
 that, in short, from the earliest dawn of the natural conscious¬ 
 ness, a divine principle of life, capable of transforming nature, 
 should be brought nigh to him, by which the diviner portion 
 might be attracted and strengthened before the ungodly prin¬ 
 ciple could come into full activity ; so that the latter might at 
 once find here more than a counterpoise. In such a case the 
 new birth was not to constitute a new crisis, beginning' at some 
 definable moment, but it was to commence imperceptibly, and 
 so to continue through the whole of life. Baptism, therefore, 
 the visible sign of regeneration, was to be given to the child at 
 the very outset; the child was to be consecrated to the Re¬ 
 deemer from the beginning of its life. From the predominance 
 of this idea, founded on the inmost essence of Christianity, in the 
 feelings of Christians, resulted the practice of infant baptism. 
 
 But immediately after Irenasus,* in the last years of the 
 second century, Tertullian appears as a zealous opponent of 
 > infant baptism ; a proof that the practice was not universally 
 regarded as an apostolical institution; for otherwise Tertullian 
 would hardly have ventured to express himself so strongly 
 against it. We perceive from his argument against infant bap¬ 
 tism that its advocates were already accustomed to appeal to 
 Matth. xix. 14: “ Our Lord rejected not the little children, 
 but commanded them to be brought to him that he might bless 
 them.” Tertullian advises that, in consideration of the great 
 importance of this rite and of the preparation necessary to be 
 made for it on the part of the recipients, men generally should 
 rather delay baptism than hasten to it unprepared, and he 
 takes occasion here to declare his particular objection to haste 
 in the baptism of children.| In answer to the argument for 
 
 * It has been attempted to prove the practice of infant baptism from 
 the passage already cited from Clement of Alexandria, Ptedagog. 1. III. 
 f. 247: “ tui u}uto; a.-ictirrruf^iiiui Tai&luv ,”— which, beyond question, 
 refers to baptism ; but this can hardly be considered a valid proof; for 
 as the idea of the Suo; va.ioa.yuyo; was floating before Clement’s mind, 
 he could denominate all Christians •raXa. Beyond doubt, the writer is 
 speaking in this passage directly of conversion and regeneration in 
 reference to all men. 
 
 t De baptismo, c. 18 : Cunctatio baptismi utilior est, prtecipue tamen 
 circa parvuios. 
 
INFANT BAPTISM. 
 
 433 
 
 it drawn from Christ’s words he replies,“ Let them come 
 while they are growing vp; let them come while they are 
 learning, while they are being taught to what they are com¬ 
 ing ; but let them be made Christians when they are able 
 to know Christ. What hurries the age of innocence to the 
 forgiveness of sins ! We show more prudence in the manage¬ 
 ment of our worldly concerns; we trust the divine treasure°to 
 those who cannot be intrusted with earthly property. Let them 
 first learn to feel their need of salvation; so it may appear 
 that we have given to those that wanted.” Tertullian evi¬ 
 dently means that children should be led to Christ by instruct¬ 
 ing them in Christianity; but that they should not receive 
 baptism, until, after having been sufficiently instructed, they 
 are led, from personal conviction and by their own free choice 
 to seek for it with sincere longing of the heart. It may be 
 said, indeed, that he is only speaking of the course to be 
 generally followed; whenever there was momentary danger 
 of death, baptism might be administered, even according°to 
 ns views. But if he had thought this to be so necessary, it 
 does not seem likely that he would have failed expressly to 
 mention it. It would appear, in fact, from the principles laid 
 down by him, that he did not believe that any efficacy whatever 
 resided m baptism unaccompanied by conscious participation 
 and individual faith of the person baptized ; nor could he see 
 any danger accruing to the age of innocence from delaying it: 
 a conclusion, however, by no means logically consistent with 
 his own system. 
 
 But when, on the one hand, the doctrine of the hereditary 
 corruption and guilt of human nature, the consequence of the 
 first transgression, was reduced to a more precise and systema¬ 
 tic form; and when, on the other, from the w^ant of a due dis¬ 
 tinction between the outward sign and the inward grace of 
 baptism (the baptism by water and the baptism by the Spirit), 
 tiie error became more and more firmly established that without 
 external baptism no one soever could be delivered from that 
 in lerent guilt, could be saved from the everlasting punishment 
 that threatened him, or raised to eternal life; and when the 
 notion of the magical effects of the mere administration of the 
 sacraments gained ground continually,—the theory was finally 
 evolved of the unconditional necessity of infant baptism. 
 About the middle of the third century this theory was already 
 
 VOL. i. o « J 
 
434 
 
 INFANT BAPTISM. 
 
 generally admitted in the North African church. The only 
 point that was still in question was, whether the child ought to 
 be baptized immediately after birth, or, as in the case ot cir¬ 
 cumcision, not till eight days after. The latter was the opinion 
 of the bishop Fidus, who submitted the question to a council 
 convened at Carthage. Cyprian answered him in the year 
 252, in the name of sixty-six bishops.* His answer evinces 
 how full lie was of that great Christian idea we have just un¬ 
 folded, and which led to the practice of infant baptism, but 
 at the same time it shows how his habit of dwelling on the 
 outward has seduced him into combining much that is erro¬ 
 neous with the truth he insisted upon. He protests against 
 the arbitrary limitation of Fidus. “ None of us could agree to 
 your opinion. On the contrary, we all judge that the mercy 
 and grace of God is not to be refused to any human being as 
 soon as he is born; for since the Lord says in His gospel, 
 
 ‘ The Son of man is not come to destroy men’s souls, but to 
 save them’ (Luke ix. 50), we must do everything that lies in 
 our power, that, if possible, no soul may be lost. As God has 
 no respect of persons, so too He has no respect of age, ottering 
 Himself as a Father with equal bounty to all, for the attain¬ 
 ment of heavenly grace. As to what you say that the child 
 is not clean to the touch for the first days after its birth, and 
 that each of us would shrink from kissing such an object, even 
 this, we think, ought not to be any obstacle to the bestowment 
 of the heavenly grace ; for it is, written, ‘ to the pure all things 
 are pure; ’ and none of us ought to make a scruple at that 
 which God has deigned to create. Although the child be but 
 just born, yet ought no one to scruple to kiss it at the imparting 
 to it of the divine grace and at the salutation of peace (i. e. the 
 brotherly kiss, which was given to persons newly baptized, as 
 a sign of their fellowship in the peace of the Lord), since each 
 of us must by his religious feelings be led to think upon the 
 creative hands of God, fresh from the completion of their work, 
 which we kiss in the newly formed man when we take in our 
 arms what God has made. If, moreover, anything could 
 prove a hindrance to men in the attainment ot grace, much 
 rather would adults be hindered by their heavy sins. But it 
 even the chief of sinners who have shined much and greatly 
 against God receive the forgiveness of sins on coming to the 
 
 * Ep. 59. 
 
INFANT BAPTISM. 
 
 435 
 
 faith, and no one is precluded from baptism and from grace, 
 how much less should the child be kept back, which, as it is 
 but just born, cannot have sinned, but has only brought with 
 it, by its descent from Adam, the infection of the old death ! 
 It surely the more easily obtains remission of sins, when it is 
 not its own sin, but that of another, which needs forgiveness.” 
 
 The Alexandrian church also, notwithstanding that in its 
 theological and dogmatical character it was essentially dif¬ 
 ferent fiom the church of North Africa, is found holding', even 
 at a still earlier period, the doctrine of the necessity of infant 
 baptism. Origen, in whose system infant baptism naturally 
 finds its place,* though not in the same connection of thought 
 as it held in the system of the North African church, declares 
 it to be an apostolical tradition ;t an expression, by the way, 
 which perhaps cannot be regarded as of much weight, being 
 made in an age when a strong inclination prevailed to derive 
 from the apostles every ordinance which was considered of special 
 importance; and when, moreover, so many walls had already 
 
 noon thvAlirn 1 V-V hnl.rr/vnn ■! 4. J il. - 1 1 • 
 
 
436 
 
 INFANT BAPTISM : SPONSORS. 
 
 doning themselves in the mean time to their lusts, they might 
 yet be cleansed by the magical annihilation of their sins, and 
 so pass without hindrance into eternal life. We have already 
 noticed the pious indignation and energy with which Tertul- 
 lian, who in other respects was opposed to haste in baptism, 
 combated this error. 
 
 It seems probable also that infant baptism furnished the 
 first occasion for the appointment of sponsors or god-parents : 
 for as in this case the persons to be baptized could not them¬ 
 selves make the necessary confession of faith and renunciation, 
 it became necessary for others to do it in their name; and 
 these at the same time engaged to take care that the children 
 should be rightly instructed in Christianity, and trained up in 
 a life corresponding to the baptismal vow. They were therefore 
 called sponsors (sponsores). Tertullian alleges it as an argu¬ 
 ment against infant baptism, that the sponsors assumed an obli¬ 
 gation which they might be prevented from fulfilling, either 
 by their own death or by the untoward conduct of the child.* 
 jt With the rite of baptism several symbolical customs were 
 joined, which flowed from the idea of the rite itself, and from 
 a desire, by their means, to represent this idea to the senses. 
 Thus, from the idea that the participation in the universal 
 priesthood of all believers was considered to be necessarily 
 united with the introduction to the Christian communion, the 
 symbol of priestly consecration followed the act of baptism. 
 As, in the Old Testament, anointing was the sign of conse¬ 
 cration to the priestly office, so oil, which had been blessed 
 expressly for this purpose, was applied to the newly baptized 
 as a sign of consecration to this spiritual priesthood. We 
 first meet with this custom in Tertullian, while, by the time 
 of Cyprian, it appears an essential part of the rite of bap¬ 
 tism.} The imposition of hands, accompanied by prayer, 
 
 * De baptismo, c. 18 : Quid enim uecesse est, sponsores etiam perieulo 
 ingeri ? quia et ipsi per mortalitatem destituere promissiones suas pos- 
 sunt, et proventu malse indolis falli. 
 
 f L. c. c. 7 : Egressi de lavacro, perunguiraur benedicta unctione, de 
 pristina disciplina, qua ungui oleo de cornu in sacerdotium solebant. 
 Adv. Marcion, 1. I. c. 14 ; de res. earn. c. 8. Yet in the book de corona 
 xnilit. c.. 3, where he describes the usages in baptism which were derived 
 not from Scripture, but from ecclesiastical tradition, he makes no men¬ 
 tion of this unction. Cyprian, ep. 70, in the name of an ecclesiastical 
 assembly: Ungi quoque uecesse est eum qui baptizatus sit, ut, accepto 
 
IMPOSITION OF HANDS IN BAPTISM. 
 
 437 
 
 with which the rite of baptism was concluded, is beyond doubt 
 a still older custom. The sign of the imposition of hands 
 (kiridecnQ run' yeipwv, yEipodtcria, nBVpp) was the usual sign of 
 religious consecration, borrowed from the Jews, and employed 
 on various occasions, either to denote consecration to the 
 Christian calling in general, or to particular branches of it. 
 While the apostles or rulers of the church laid their hands on 
 the head of the baptized, they called upon the Lord to bestow 
 his blessing on the holy ordinance now completed, to cause all 
 its import to be fulfilled in him, to consecrate him with his 
 Spirit for the Christian calling, and to pour out his Spirit 
 upon him. This closing rite was inseparably connected with 
 the whole act of baptism. All, indeed, had reference to the 
 same principal thing, without which no one could be a Chris¬ 
 tian — the birth to a new life from God, the baptism of the 
 Spirit, which was symbolically represented by the baptism of 
 water. Tertullian still considers this rite and baptism insepar¬ 
 ably connected, and forming but one whole, although he 
 distinguishes in it the two distinct momenta, the negative and 
 the positive, the forgiveness of sin and purification which was 
 effected by baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy 
 Ghost, and the communication of the Holy Spirit following 
 thereupon to the individual now restored to the original state 
 of innocence, to which communication the imposition of hands 
 refers.* 
 
 33ut when now the idea was established of a spiritual 
 character belonging exclusively to the bishops, or successors 
 of the apostles, which was communicated to them by ordina¬ 
 tion, and on which the propagation of the Holy Spirit in the 
 church depended, it was considered as their prerogative to 
 
 chrismate, esse unctus Dei et habere in se gratiam Christi possit (the 
 following words, respecting the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, are 
 manifestly a gloss, disturbing the sense, and occasioned by the subse¬ 
 quent mention of the eucharist) ; unde baptizati unguuntur oleo in altari 
 sanctificato. 
 
 * De baptismo, c. 8 : Dehinc manus imponilur per benedictionem, 
 advocans et invitans Spiritum sanctum. He names together, de res. 
 earn. c. 8, in connection with baptism, all the three things which after¬ 
 wards, separated from it and combined together in one whole, consti¬ 
 tuted in the Romau church the sacrament of confirmation: the unction, 
 conveying with it the consecration of the soul; the signing with the cross, 
 conveying with it protection from evil; the imposition oj hands, the illu- 
 minatio spiritus. 
 
438 
 
 BAPTISM — CONFIRMATION. 
 
 seal, by this consecration of the imposition of hands, the whole 
 act of baptism. (Hence this rite was called signaculum, 
 atypayic.) It was held that an authority for this could be 
 drawn from the fact that the Samaritans, baptized by a. 
 deacon, were first endowed with spiritual gifts by the subse¬ 
 quent imposition of the apostles’ hands (Acts xix.),* as this 
 passage was then understood. So now the presbyters, and, in 
 case of necessity, even the deacons, were empowered to bap¬ 
 tize, but the bishops only w r ere authorised to consummate the 
 second sacred rite. This notion was fully formed as early as 
 the middle of the third century. The bishops, therefore, were 
 obliged to go occasionally through their dioceses, in order to 
 administer what was afterwards named confirmation to those 
 who had been baptized by the pastors and priests of the 
 country congregations. In ordinary cases, where the bishop 
 himself administered the baptism, both were still united, and 
 they thus constituted together the complete act of baptism .'f 
 
 After all this had been performed in many of the churches 
 —in those, for instance, of North Africa and of Alexandria— 
 the person newly baptized had given to him a mixture of milk 
 and honey, as a symbol of childhood in the new life, and as a 
 spiritual application of the promise of a land flowing with 
 milk and honey, to that heavenly country, with all its blessed 
 privileges, to which the baptized belonged. I He was then 
 
 * See, on this subject, my History of the Planting, See., Vol. I. p. 82, IF. 
 
 f Cyprian speaks of a sacramentum duplex, water baptism, and spi¬ 
 ritual baptism, represented by the imposition of hands (sacramento 
 ntroque nasci), yet both united in the church act of baptism, ep. 72, ad 
 Jubajanum, and ep. 72, ad Stephan. We must not lose sight here of the 
 unsettled meaning affixed to the word sacramentum, according to which 
 it signified any sacred thing, sacred doctrine, sacred sign. After citing 
 the example of Philip and the apostles, he says, Quod nunc quoqne 
 apud nos geritur, ut, qui in ecclesia baptizantur, praepositis ecclesim 
 offerantur, et per nostram orationem ac manus impositionem spiritual 
 sanctum consequantur et signaculo dominico consummentur. The same 
 notion occurs in the work de rebaptismate, which most probably was 
 contemporary with the former; in it this act is denominated baptisma 
 spiritale. Cornelius, in Euseb. 1. VI. c. 43, asks, in the case of one who 
 had not received this confirmation of the bishop, “ How could he without 
 this become partaker of the Holy Spirit?” 
 
 J See the passage above quoted from Tertullian’s De corona milit. 
 and adv. Marcion. 1. I. c. 14 : Deus mellis et lactis societate suos infantat 
 (he causes them to be known as his new-born children). Clemens, 
 PsedagOg. 1. I. f. 103 : EuStij ivu.y-tvn&ivrt} rtriftriftt&a TVi civevxauirieD; 
 
CONTROVERSIES ABOUT BAPTISM. 
 
 439 
 
 received into the church by the first kiss of Christian brother¬ 
 hood, the salutation of peace, of that peace with God which, 
 in common with all Christians, lie now shared ; * and from 
 henceforth he had the right of saluting all Christians with 
 this sign of brotherhood. But Clement of Alexandria had, 
 even in his day, to complain that this brotherly kiss, originally 
 a natural expression of Christian feeling, was become an opus 
 operatum , of which men made a display, and gave unnecessary 
 offence to the heathens, j His objection to it is, that love 
 evinces itself, not in the brotherly kiss, but in the disposition 
 of the heart.! 
 
 Before taking leave of this subject we must notice a con¬ 
 troversy which, in the second half of the third century, created 
 no little agitation in the whole church. The question was, 
 What is necessary to the validity of baptism ? What is to be 
 done in the case of a heretic who, having received baptism in 
 his own sect, comes over to the orthodox church ? Before 
 any special discussion had arisen on this point, the various 
 churches had pursued different courses, according to the differ¬ 
 ent points of view from winch, as usually happens in such 
 cases, the instances had severally been considered. In Asia 
 Minor and the adjacent countries the prevailing consideration 
 was that no baptism was valid but what was administered in 
 the orthodox church, where alone all religious rites possessed 
 their true value; that the baptism of heretics was null and 
 void ; and that therefore the true baptism ought to be adminis¬ 
 tered to such as came over from the sects as much as to 
 heathens. This conclusion may be easily explained from the 
 asperity of the polemical relations which subsisted between 
 the church and the sects in these particular districts, and from 
 the character of these sects, especially the Gnostic, who, in 
 all the most essential points of doctrine and of practice, had 
 departed so widely from what was generally received. In 
 the Roman church, on the contrary, where in other respects a 
 
 T'/iv iXf'ilct, T'/jv am 'UooviraXh/^ ihayyiXit! l ofiivoi, iv J j/AXt xa'i yaXa 
 ccvar'yi'yga'Vrrca, 
 
 * Osculnm pads, ti^vyj. See above. 
 
 t In the passage already dted from the Psedogog. 1. III. f. 256: o? II 
 
 ouTcV) c!./.y w (pi'krifzc&'ri xa.'Tcc’^/otyovfft rcc$ to (ptXovv tv'bov ovk Z'fcovrzg 
 
 ccbro, Ka) yug 3'/? <rou~o ix e 7ri , 7r\r,-/Civ vrrovolccg otitr^^cig kcc) (oXcartynfJAag to 
 aLvccihr.v ry (piXy/accr/, oitig s7v«/ {AVtrriKOV. 
 
 J ’Ayavrvi 3s oux iv (fiXr,penny &AA’ iv ivvolcc zoivtrau 
 
440 
 
 CONTROVERSIES 
 
 bitter hostility against the heretics prevailed, the polemical 
 tendency was overcome by a certain catholic instinct, by 
 a predominant tendency to the objective. The principle 
 pursued in practice was, that, in virtue of the objective value 
 of the name of Christ or of the Trinity, which was invoked in 
 its administration, baptism, by whomsoever and wider whatso¬ 
 ever religious views it may have been administered, retains its 
 validity in all cases. The heretics, therefore, who joined the 
 church were recognised as baptized Christians ; only the rite 
 of confirmation, in the sense above explained, was bestowed 
 on them by the bishop, in order that the Holy Spirit might 
 render efficacious the baptism they had received, — a practice 
 which was one of the causes which led to separating confirma¬ 
 tion from baptism. As the different churches were generally 
 willing to follow the model of the apostolical or metropolitan 
 churches (the sedes apostolicae), it is probable that most of 
 the Western churches followed the example of the Romish 
 church. 
 
 But towards the close of the second century the custom, 
 which thus far had been tacitly observed, became an object of 
 especial inquiry in Asia Minor ; whether it was that the prin¬ 
 ciple which prevailed in that region was followed also by the 
 Montanistic churches,* and was therefore called in question 
 by those who opposed the Montanists in everything, or whether 
 it was for some other reason. The majority declared in favour 
 of the old principle. Somewhat later, when the matter was 
 again in dispute, this principle was solemnly confirmed by 
 two ecclesiastical councils—at Iconium, viz., and at Synnada 
 in Phrygia. This led to the discussion of the question in 
 other countries. Tertullian, most probably while he was still 
 a member of the catholic church, wrote a special treatise in 
 Greek on the subject; and this naturally enough, as that was 
 the only language understood in the countries where the dispute 
 had hitherto broken out. In this treatise he did not hesitate 
 to dissent from the custom of the Roman church. To defend 
 the recognition of heretical baptism the opposite party had 
 probably appealed to Ephes. iv. 5, 6—“ One Lord, one faith, 
 one baptism, one God and Father of all ”—and from these words 
 had concluded that, wherever we find the invocation of that 
 one God and that one Lord, we must recognise the validity of 
 * See Tertullian, de pudicitia, c. 19. 
 
RESPECTING BAPTISM. 
 
 441 
 
 baptism. But Tertullian replies,* “ This can relate only to 
 us who know and call upon the true God and Christ. The 
 heretics have not this God and this Christ. These words, 
 therefore, cannot be applied to them; and as they do not 
 rightly administer the ordinance, their baptism is as good as 
 none.” 
 
 In the North African church men willingly followed, for 
 the most part, the example of the mother church of Borne, 
 but they were at the same time far from submitting their own 
 judgment to the authority of that church.f At a council 
 held in Carthage, over which the bishop Agrippinus presided, 
 seventy bishops of North Africa declared in favour of the 
 opposite opinion. As yet, however, neither party was disposed 
 to force its own views and practice on the other. The churches 
 which differed on this point did not, on account of a disagree¬ 
 ment which so little concerned the essentials of Christianity, 
 dissolve the bond of fraternal communion. But here, again, 
 it was a Roman bishop, Stephanus, who, instigated by the 
 spirit of hierarchical domination and blind zeal, first attached 
 a great importance to this dispute. Towards the close of the 
 year 253 he excommunicated the bishops of Asia Minor, 
 Cappadocia, Galatia, and Cilicia,J stigmatising them ■ as • 
 rebaptizers, anabaptists (dra/3a7rrtorat),§ —a name, however, 
 which they could justly affirm they did not, according to their 
 own principles, deserve ; for it was not their wish to administer 
 a second baptism to persons already baptised, but they con¬ 
 tended that the previous baptism, given by heretics, could not 
 be recognised as a true one. 
 
 From Asia the discussions in regard to this matter extended 
 themselves to North Africa. Here there was a party which 
 had always adhered to the old Boman usages. The earlier 
 discussions were now forgotten ; and new questions and inves¬ 
 tigations arose. This induced Cyprian, the bishop, to propose 
 the point for discussiou at two synods held in Carthage in the 
 year 255, the one composed of eighteen, and the other of 
 seventy-one bishops; and both assemblies declared in favour of 
 Cyprian’s view, that the baptism of heretics ought not to be 
 
 * De baptismo, c. 15. f See above. 
 
 + Dionysius, in Euseb. 1. VII. c. 5; Firmilianus in Cyprian, ep. 75. 
 
 § The words of Cyprian, ep. 71 ad Quintum: Nos autem dicimus t?os 
 qui inde veniunt, non rebaptizari apud nos, sed baptizari. 
 
442 
 
 CONTROVERSIES 
 
 regarded as valid. As he was well aware* * * § what importance 
 the church of Rome and its followers attached to what had 
 once been established, and that they held up this long-observed 
 practice in the light of an apostolical tradition, although, from 
 the nature of the thing, cases of this sort could not well occur 
 in the time of the apostles, he thus protested against it in 
 a letter to Quintus, f an African bishop, to whom he commu¬ 
 nicated the decisions of the first council: “ This is a case in 
 which men ought not to appeal to custom, but to convince by 
 arguments. For even Peter, whom our Lord chose to be the 
 first among the apostles, and on whom lie founded his church, 
 when Paul afterwards disputed with him concerning circum¬ 
 cision, Gal. ii.,| did not arrogantly presume on the primacy, 
 and insist that the later and younger apostle should yield obe¬ 
 dience to him; nor did he despise Paul because he had once 
 been a persecutor of the church; but he took counsel of the 
 truth, and so acquiesced readily in the correct views which 
 Paul supported. He thus gave us an example of unanimity 
 and of patience, teaching us not to cleave obstinately to our 
 own way, but rather, when any useful and salutary thing is 
 occasionally suggested to us by our brethren and colleagues, to 
 make it ours if it be true and lawful.” He also communi¬ 
 cated the decisions of the greater council to Stephen the Roman 
 bishop, in a letter written with great freedom of spirit, though 
 great delicacy ;§ but Stephen, in his reply, couched in a very 
 arrogant tone,|| set up against Cyprian simply the tradition of 
 the Roman church. He earned his blind, unchristian zeal so 
 far as to indulge himself in undignified abuse of his African 
 colleague, and refused an audience to the bishops who came 
 to him as delegates of the North African council, and even 
 forbade the members of Iris church to receive them into their 
 houses ! Yet Cyprian was far from submitting his reason to the 
 authority of the Roman church. He convened at Carthage, in 
 the year 256, a still more numerous council, composed of eighty- 
 seven bishops, who also concurred in the principles before ex¬ 
 pressed. The North African church, under this zeal for the 
 exclusive validity of catholic baptism, evinced, it is true, a fana- 
 
 * See above. f Ep. 71. 
 
 J It is remarkable how constantly the unbiassed, unprejudiced view 
 
 of tills fact had been preserved in the North African church. 
 
 § Ep. 72. |] See above, p. 301. 
 
RESPECTING BAPTISM. 
 
 443 
 
 tical hatred of heretics ; an exaggerated opinion of the exclusive 
 holiness of the catholic church.* But still it is remarkable 
 how the same individual, who generally held tradition in high 
 esteem, opposed to it, on this occasion, truth and right reason. 
 u In vain,” he says, “ do some who have the worst in argu¬ 
 ment oppose to us usage, as if usage were greater than truth, 
 or as if in spiritual tilings one must not follow a better way if’ 
 it has been revealed by the Holy Spirit.”! 
 
 Cyprian now endeavoured to form a connection with the 
 Asiatics, who entertained the same views of this matter with 
 himself. With this view he laid the whole case before one of 
 the most eminent of the Asiatic bishops, Firmilian, bishop of 
 Caesarea in Cappadocia. The latter signified his entire con¬ 
 currence in Cyprian’s views,| and added some pertinent 
 remarks on the advantages of common deliberation on spiritual 
 matters, when animated by the spirit of Christ. “ Since 
 divine doctrine transcends the limits of human capacity, and 
 the soul of man cannot grasp the Whole and tire Perfect, 
 therefore is the number of prophets so great, in order that the 
 manifold wisdom of God may be apportioned among many. 
 And hence he who has first spoken as a prophet is com¬ 
 manded to keep silence when anything is revealed to another.” 
 1 Cor. xiv. 30. 
 
 As, in a former controversy,§ Dionysius, bishop of Alexan¬ 
 dria, distinguished himself by his Christian moderation, so he 
 exhibited a similar temper in the present dispute. On the 
 point in question he agreed generally, it is true, with the 
 churches of North Africa and Asia Minor, the same views 
 having for a long' time prevailed in the Alexandrian church. || 
 
 * See Cyprian’s words, ep. 71 : Hoereticorum sordidam et profanam 
 tinctionem vero, unico et legitimo ecclesim catholicae baptismo prscpo- 
 nere. Nihil potest esse commune Antichristo et Christo. He styles the 
 baptism of heretics “ aqua perfida et mendax.” The opinions expressed 
 by many of these bishops manifest the same spirit,—a forewarning of the 
 straggles which in the fourth century were produced in these districts 
 by a fanatical separative spirit. 
 
 f Proinde frustra quidam, qui ratione vincuntur, consuetudinem nobis 
 opponunt, quasi consuetudo major sit veritate, aut non id sit in spirita- 
 libus sequendum, quod in melius a Sancto Spiritu revelatum. Ep. 73. 
 
 + Cyprian, ep. 75, in a Latin translation, often literal. 
 
 § See above, the Novatian schism. 
 
 f| That the Alexandrian church, too, rejected baptism administered in 
 the churches of heretics, seems necessarily to follow from the declaration 
 
444 
 
 CONTROVERSIES 
 
 But lie differed from them in one particular; his more liberal 
 spirit was rather inclined to make exceptions to the rule * in 
 regard to many sects who in doctrine harmonised completely 
 with the church. But at the same time he endeavoured to 
 maintain brotherly unity with the bishops of Borne, and to 
 dispose them to peace. He therefore earnestly entreated the 
 Boman bishop Stephen not to disturb the Eastern church in 
 her enjoyment of that external peace which the emperor Vale¬ 
 rian had conceded to her, and of that internal peace which, 
 since the suppression of the schism of Novatian, had accom¬ 
 panied it. “ Know, my brother,”f he wrote, “ that the once 
 divided churches in the East and still beyond are now all 
 united together, and that all the rulers of these churches agree, 
 rejoicing exceedingly in the peace which, contrary to expecta¬ 
 tion, has fallen to our lot. All give praise to God in har¬ 
 mony and brotherly love.” It was probably in consequence 
 of the spirit of love and wise forbearance with which he ne¬ 
 gotiated with the Boman church that Stephen did not venture 
 to excommunicate him with the rest. He continued the cor¬ 
 respondence with Sixtus, the successor of Stephen ; and to 
 maintain the bond of brotherly love, he even asked his advice 
 in relation to one matter where both of them could start from 
 the same principles. J 
 
 As the emperor Valerian became soon after a persecutor of 
 the Christian church, this conflict without contributed to 
 silence the disputes within it; perhaps, too, the successor of 
 Stephen did not partake of his blind zeal. 
 
 It remains that we should consider somewhat more minutely 
 the question in dispute between the two parties, and the mode of 
 its development on both sides. The points of dispute tvere two. 
 
 of Dionysius in his letter to the Roman bishop Sixtus II., Euseb. 1. VIE 
 c. 7, where he says that, when members of the catholic church who had 
 gone over to the heretics returned again to the former, it was not the 
 custom to rebaptize them, for they had before received the holy baptism 
 from the bishop. This, therefore, was the only case. Consequently bap¬ 
 tism administered out of the catholic church was not recognised as holy, 
 as valid. 
 
 * Tints he made an exception of this sort with respect to the baptism 
 administered by the Montanists, probably because he entertained milder 
 views respecting their relation to the universal church. See Basil. 
 Caesar, ep. 18S, or ep. canon 1. 
 
 f Euseb. 1. Y. c. 5. 
 
 + 
 
 L. c. 1. VII. c. 9. 
 
RESPECTING BAPTISM. 
 
 445 
 
 In respect to the first, the Roman party maintained that the 
 validity of baptism depended simply on its being - administered 
 agreeably to the institution of Christ. The formula of baptism 
 in particular gave it its objective validity ; it mattered not 
 what was the subjective character of the officiating priest, who 
 served merely as an instrument; it was also of no consequence 
 where the baptism was administered. That which is objec¬ 
 tively divine can preserve its power, the grace of God can in 
 this manner operate through the objective symbol, if only it 
 find in the person baptized a recipient soul; that person can 
 receive the grace of baptism, wherever he might be baptized, 
 through his own faith, and through his own disposition of 
 heart* But Cyprian reproaches his opponents with inconsis¬ 
 tency, from which charge it was not easy for them to defend 
 themselves. If the baptism of heretics possesses an objective 
 validity, then, for the same reason, their confirmation must 
 also possess an objective validity. “ For,” says Cyprian, “ if 
 a person born out of the church (namely, to the new life) may 
 become a temple of God, why may not also the Holy Spirit be 
 poured out on this temple? He v'ho has put off sin in baptism 
 and become sanctified, spiritually transformed into a new man, 
 is capable of receiving the Holy Spirit. The apostle says, 
 ‘ As many of you as are baptized have put on Christ.’ It fol¬ 
 lows, then, that he who may put on Christ when baptized by 
 heretics, can much more receive the Holy Spirit, which Christ 
 has sent.” He says of his opponents, “ They argue as if it 
 w r ere possible that Christ could be put on without the Spirit, or 
 the Spirit could be separated from Christ.” | 
 
 His opponents, on the other hand, maintained that no 
 baptism could be valid unless administered in the true church, 
 
 * Eum qui quomodocunque foris (without the church) baptizatur, 
 mente et fide sua baptismi gratiam consequi. The opinion of the Roman 
 church is by no means to be understood as if the mere employment of 
 the correct formula of baptism, even when in all respects the original 
 institution was wholly departed from, could render it valid. That the 
 question related to a baptism which in other respects was administered 
 in the right way was presupposed on both sides. Had his opponents 
 been able to charge any fault upon Stephanus and his party in this 
 respect, they would hardly have omitted the opportunity. Moreover, 
 Dionysius of Alexandria, in the question which he proposed to the 
 Roman bishop, Euseb. 1. VII. c. 9, proceeds on the supposition that they 
 were both agreed on that point. 
 
 f Cyprian, ep. 74. 
 
446 
 
 CONTROVERSIES 
 
 where alone the Holy Spirit operates. If by this was meant 
 merely an outward membership in the church, an outward 
 connection with it, the decision of the question would be easy. 
 But what Cyprian really meant was an inward subjective 
 connection with the true church by faith and disposition of 
 heart. He took it for granted that the officiating priest him¬ 
 self, by virtue of his faith, must be an organ of the Holy 
 Spirit, and enabled by the simple influence of his priestly 
 office duly to perform the sacramental acts, to communicate, 
 for example, to the water its supernatural, sanctifying 
 power.* But when the matter took this shape—was made 
 thus to depend on the sid>jective character of the •priest —it 
 would be difficult, in many cases, to decide as to the validity 
 of a baptism, and much perplexity and doubt would embarrass 
 the subject; for who could look into the heart of the offici¬ 
 ating priest?f 
 
 But in their defence of the objective value of the formula of 
 baptism the Eoman party went still farther. Even a baptism 
 where, instead of the complete form, simply “ in the name of 
 Christ ” was employed, they declared to be objectively valid.! 
 
 * L. c. ep. 70 : Quomodo sanctificare aquam potest, qui ipse immundus 
 est et apud quern Spiritus Sanctus non est ? Sed et pro baptizato quam 
 precem facere potest sacerdos sacrilegus et peccator ? Ep. 76 : Quando 
 ha?c in ecclesia fiunt, ubi sit et accipientis et dantis tides integra. 
 
 f The author of the book de rebaptismate, which stands among the 
 works of Cyprian, could therefore object, Quid dicturus es de his, qui 
 plerumque ab episcopis pessimse conversationis baptizantur? by those, 
 i. e., who afterwards, when their vices came to be known, were deposed. 
 Aut quid statues de eis, qui ab episcopis prave seutientibus aut imperi- 
 tioribus fuerint baptizati ? 
 
 \ From Cyprian’s letters, and from the book de rebaptismate, it is 
 undeniably clear that the Roman party maintained this. If Firmilian, 
 in the 75 ep. Cyprian, speaks only of the formula of baptism in the name 
 of the trinitas, it does not follow that the opponents had spoken barely of 
 this. Firmilian gives prominence only to that point against which he 
 meant particularly to direct his controversial argument, the principle 
 that the baptismal formula gave to baptism an objective validity; and 
 hence he does not distinguish what would have to be distinguished in 
 exhibiting the opinion of his opponents. Yet we see also the other posi¬ 
 tion of his opponents, which must have floated before his mind, disco¬ 
 vering itself, when he says, Non omnes autem, qui nomen Christi invocant, 
 audiri, See. The tract de rebaptismate, a work of some acuteness, I have 
 thought myself authorized to cite as undoubtedly belonging to this period. 
 I cannot adopt the opinion that this work dates not before the close of the 
 fourth century, or is even still later, and, according to Gennadius de script 
 

 RESPECTING BAPTISM. 447 
 
 Cyprian maintained, on the contrary, that no formula of bap¬ 
 tism but the full form instituted by Christ had any value. 
 We perceive here the more liberal Christian spirit of the anti- 
 Cyprian party. The thought hovered vaguely before their 
 minds, that in the belief in Christ everything that properly 
 pertains to Christianity is involved.* 
 
 Cyprian himself, however, did not venture to limit God’s 
 grace to such outward things in those cases where converted 
 heretics had once been admitted without a new baptism, and 
 had partaken of the communion of the church, or died in it.. 
 “ God,” he observes, “ is mighty, according to His mercy, to 
 show indulgence, and not to exclude from the benefits of the 
 church those who have been received into it without further 
 ceremonies, and thus fallen asleep.” t A remarkable case of 
 this sort is narrated by Dionysius of Alexandria. J There was 
 in the church of Alexandria a converted heretic, who lived as 
 a member of the church for many years, and had partaken in 
 the public worship of God. Happening to be present at 
 a baptism of catechumens, he remembered that the baptism 
 which he himself had received in the sect from which he was 
 converted (probably a Gnostic sect) bore no resemblance 
 
 eccles., was written by Ursinus a monk. The writer discourses like a man 
 who lived in the midst of these controversies, in the time of the perse¬ 
 cutions; all which is inconceivable of an author belonging to a later 
 period. .When he says these controversies were to produce no other 
 fruit, nisi ut unns homo, quicunque ille est, magnse prudentise et constan¬ 
 ts esse, apud quosdam leves homines inani gloria procdicetnr, we see 
 very clearly that Cyprian is here meant, and none but a contemporary 
 could so speak of him. The expression in regard to an ancient apos¬ 
 tolical tradition, “ post tot seculorum tantam seriem,” seems, it is true, 
 out of the way in the mouth of a man who wrote in the middle of the 
 third century. But in any case this expression would continue to be 
 very hyperbolical, although employed by a writer at the end of the 
 fourth century; and it is the fact generally that strong hyperboles are 
 not unusual in the writers belonging to the African church. 
 
 * In the book de rebaptismate: Invocatio haec nominis Jesu, quasi 
 initium quoddam mysterii dominici, commune nobis et crcteris omnibus, 
 quod possit post rnodum residuis rebus impleri. The party of Stephen 
 not inaptly appealed to the fact that St. Paul testified his joy in knowing 
 that Christ was preached, even though it were not done in the right way| 
 as was the case with regard to those judaizing Christians, Philip, i. 16. 
 Cyprian, who wished to deprive them of the support of this text, does 
 not understand it so well, ep. 73. 
 
 t Ep. 70. + Euseb. 1. VII. c . 9. 
 
448 
 
 THE SACRAMENT OF 
 
 whatever to the one he now witnessed. Had he known that 
 with Christ, as the object of faith, all is given that is necessary 
 to the salvation of the soul, this circumstance could not have 
 caused him so much uneasiness. But as this was not so clear 
 to him, he doubted as to his title to consider himself a real 
 Christian, and fell into the greatest distress and anxiety, 
 believing himself to be without baptism and the grace of 
 baptism. He fell down at the bishop’s feet in tears, and 
 besought him for baptism. The bishop endeavoured to quiet 
 his fears: he told him that he could not be baptized anew at 
 this late period, after he had so long partaken of the body and 
 blood of the Lord. It ought to be enough for him that he had 
 lived so long in the communion of the church, and all he had 
 to do was to°approach the holy supper with unwavering faith 
 and a good conscience. But the wretched man found it 
 impossible to overcome his scruples and regain his tranquillity. 
 Here was a hindrance to that peace and joy in the divine 
 o-race by that temper of mind which is again in bondage 
 to those elements of the world from which Christ has made 
 
 us free. , . 
 
 We proceed now to the second holy symbol which Christ 
 
 instituted for his church— the Lord s supper. 
 
 The last supper which Christ partook of with his disciples 
 on earth must, from the nature of the case, ha\ e been full of 
 meaning, as the parting meal of Him who was about to gi'e 
 up his fife for their salvation, and for that of all mankind; 
 and who afterwards, although no longer visible among them 
 as at this meal, yet as truly, and with still more powerful 
 divine operation'and still richer blessing, would manifest 
 among them His spiritual presence, and impart to them Him¬ 
 self and all His heavenly treasures. Besides, this meal was to 
 take the place of the paschal supper, w hich Christ could no 
 longer celebrate on earth. The feast in commemoration of 
 the foundation and covenant of the ]\Losaic relirjious con¬ 
 stitution was nowq in accordance with the order of the 
 theocratic economy, to exchange its earthly for a heavenly 
 import, and to assume a new relation analogous to the new 
 shape of the theocracy. The Jewish passover was a feast of 
 thanksgiving for the grace which the Almighty Creator, who 
 causes°the fruits of the earth to gnwv for the service of men, 
 had bestowed on His people when He honoured them with 
 
THE LORD’S SUPPER. 
 
 449 
 
 His especial guidance , after delivering them from the Egyptian 
 bondage. Every father of a family, who kept the passover 
 with his household and distributed wine and bread among 
 the guests, praised God, who had bestowed these fruits of the 
 earth on man, for the favour he had shown to his own 
 peculiar people, ior this reason the cup of wine over which 
 this giving of thanks was pronounced was called the cup of 
 praise or thanksgiving.* On the present occasion, then, 
 Christ pronounced the blessing as the master of the household ; 
 a blessing, however, which, in its relation to the new shape the 
 theocracy was about to take, received a new application. It 
 was henceforward to denote deliverance from the guilt and 
 punishment of sin ; deliverance from the bondage of sin ; and 
 the gift of true moral freedom through the sacrifice of Christ 
 for man—the preparation for entrance into a heavenly country. 
 And this was the foundation of the kingdom of God, which is 
 laid in the forgiveness of sins, and deliverance from sin, for 
 all humanity. Hence Christ said, when he gave wine and 
 bread to His disciples, that this bread and this wine were to 
 be to them —and consequently to all the faithful in all times— 
 His body and His blood;—the body which He was offering 
 for the forgiveness of their sins, for their salvation, for the 
 establishment of the new theocratical relation. And as these 
 outward symbols represented to them His body and His blood 
 so would He Himself be hereafter spiritually present with 
 them, as truly as he then was visible. And as they now 
 sensibly partook of these corporeal means of sustenance, which 
 represented to them His body and His blood, so should they, 
 for the nourishment of their souls, receive Him, present in 
 divine power wholly within them ; they should spiritually eat 
 ILs flesh and drink His blood (John vi.), should make His 
 rlesh and blood their own, and suffer their whole nature to be 
 more and more penetrated by that divine principle of life 
 which they were to receive through their communion with 
 linn, r ills, in order to glorify the effects of His suffering 
 or mankind, to celebrate this intimate life-giving com¬ 
 munion with Him, and consequently with one another, as 
 members of one spiritual body under one Great Head, were 
 they to keep this feast together, until at length, in the actual 
 
 rtOTTi^LO'j ivXoytcci = lv%ccoi<rrlag* 
 
450 
 
 THE LORD’S SUPPER. 
 
 possession of that heavenly country, they should enjoy, in its 
 fullest extent, the blessedness which had been obtained tor them 
 by His sufferings, and, never more to be separated from 
 Him, they, face to face, should be united with Him in His 
 
 kingdom. , . „ , . ,. 
 
 After the model of the Jewish passover, and the first insti¬ 
 tution, the Lord’s supper was originally united with a common 
 meal. Both constituted a whole, representing not only the com¬ 
 munion of the faithful with their Lord, but also then- brotherly 
 communion with one another. Both together were called the 
 supper of the Lord (Ulnvov tov icupiov, deurvov Kvpiaxov), 
 the supper of love (ayd?™?).* It was the daily rite of Chris¬ 
 tian communion in the first church at Jerusalem ; the phrase 
 K \ar aorov , the breaking of bread, in Acts h. 46, being most 
 probably to be understood of them both together. In like 
 manner we find both united in the first Corinthian church; 
 and so it probably was with the innocent, simple meal of the 
 Christians of which Pliny speaks in his report to the emperor 
 Trajan.f On the contrary, in the description given by Justin 
 Martyr we find the celebration of the Lord’s supper entirely 
 separated from those feasts of brotherly loi e, 1 in e ® 111 
 those churches which he had in view they still existed at all. 
 This separation was occasioned partly by similar lrregiilantie* 
 to those which had arisen in the Corinthian church, when 
 , during these feasts a spirit prevailed unsuited to the holy rite 
 which was to follow, and partly by local circumstances, which 
 o-enerally prevented the institution of such common meals. 
 In truth these meals especially excited the jealousy of the 
 heathens, and gave birth to the strangest and most malicious 
 reports t—a circumstance which may have early led to the 
 agapee being either totally abolished or less frequently ob- 
 
 We will now speak, in the first place, of these feasts of 
 brotherly love, such as they were afterwards, wnen, separated 
 from the supper of the Lord, they were specially called agapee 
 (ayciTrcu). At these all distinctions of earthly rank and con- 
 
 * See my History of the Planting, &c., Vol. I. p. 30. 
 
 t TertuUian on the hindrances which a Christian woman meets with 
 
 Jento a heathen. Ad uxoretn, 1. II. 
 
 illud dominicum, quod infamant, sine sua suspicion dimittet. 
 
.• iMMHim toil!; 1 !! : liliiiRlffflW H ' 
 
 THE AGAP^E. 45 J 
 
 dition were to disappear in Christ. All were to be one in the 
 Lord ; rich and poor, high and low, masters and servants, were 
 to eat at the same table together. A description of such a 
 feast has come down to us from Tertullian.* “ Our feast ” 
 he says, “ shows its character by its name; it bears the Greek 
 name of love; and however great may be the cost of it, still 
 it is gain to be at cost in the name of piety, for by this re¬ 
 freshment we make all the poor happy. As the cause of the 
 supper is a worthy one, estimate accordingly the propriety 
 with which all the rest is managed ; it is throughout such 
 as its religious end demands. It admits of nothing vulgar 
 nothing unbeseeming. No one sits down at the table till 
 prayer has first been offered to God; we eat as much as 
 hunger requires, we drink no more than consists with sobriety • 
 while we satisfy our appetites we bear in mind that the night 
 is to be consecrated to the worship of God. The conversation 
 is such as might be expected of men who are fully conscious 
 that God hears them. The supper being ended, and all 
 having washed their hands, lights are brought in, and every 
 one is invited tosing, either from holy scripture or from the 
 prompting of his own spirit, some song of praise to God for 
 the common edification : it then appears how he has drunken. 
 1 he feast is concluded with prayer.” These agapm lost by 
 degrees their true original meaning, which it was impossible 
 tor them to retain except in the time when Christians formed 
 as it were but one family. They soon became a lifeless form 
 no longer animated by the original spirit of brotherly love’ 
 which, removing all distinctions between man and man, united 
 together all hearts as one. Many abuses crept into them 
 which furnished occasion for evil-minded persons to represent 
 the whole festival in an unfavourable light. As usually hap- 
 pens in such cases, some ascribed undue importance to the 
 dead form, as an opus operation; others unjustly condemned 
 the whole custom, without distinguishing the right use of it 
 from its abuse; neither party being any longer capable of 
 appreciating the simple, childlike spirit in which this festival 
 had originated. Wealthy members of the church provided 
 such agapae, and imagined they had done something peculiarly 
 meritorious; and here, where all ought to be equal, attention 
 began to be paid to distinction of ranks, and the clergy, who 
 
 * Apologet. c. 39 . 
 
 2 g 2 
 
452 
 
 THE lord’s SUPrER 
 
 in humility should have shone forth before all, allowed them¬ 
 selves to be distinguished by outward preferences unworthy 
 of their calling.* " A spirit, anything but childlike, morose, 
 ascetical, condemned these agapae altogether, and eagerly 
 caught at every particular instance of abuse on these occasions, 
 in order to paint them in exaggerated colours, and to bring dis¬ 
 credit upon the whole custom. Such was the case with ler- 
 tullian after he became a Montanist.t Clement of Alexandria 
 expresses himself with greater moderation,J although he con¬ 
 demns those who imagined they could purchase with banquets 
 the promises of God, and who seemed to degrade the heavenly 
 name of love by a particular appropriation of it to these 
 feasts “ Love,” says he, “ is indeed a heavenly food. In 
 heaven is this heavenly feast; the earthly one is indeed given 
 by love, yet the feast is not love itself, but only the proof of a 
 benevolence ready to communicate. lake care, therefore, that 
 your treasure be not evil spoken of; for the kingdom of God 
 is not eating and drinking, but righteousness, peace, and jov 
 in the Holy Ghost. He who shares in this latter feast attains 
 to what is most glorious, the kingdom of God, because he 
 strives, even in the present world, to belong to that holy com- 
 munity of love, the church in heaven. Love is the divine 
 thing itself, pure and worthy of God ; to communicate is a 
 
 work of love.” . , 
 
 So iono- as the agapae and the Lord s supper were united 
 
 together die celebration of the latter formed no part of the 
 divine serviced The latter was held early in the morning, and 
 not till towards evening did the church reassemble at the 
 
 * A double pordon was set before ecclesiastics, iu accordance with a 
 
 - * , • _ - ^ l'T’i mAth XT XT 17 I OT- 
 
 [§ This assertion is inconsist 
 xi. 18, 20, whatever may be the 
 be there understood. — Eng. Ed.] 
 
' 
 
 SEPARATED FROM THE AGAP.E. 453 
 
 common love-feast and for the celebration of the supper. At 
 this celebration, as may be easily concluded, no one could be 
 present who was not a member of the Christian church, and 
 incorporated into it by the rite of baptism. But there was no 
 reason for excluding unbelievers or the unbaptized from the 
 worship held in the morning.* It is clear from 1 Cor. xiv. 
 23-25, that in the age of the apostles no stranger was forbid¬ 
 den to enter those assemblies ; that, on the contrary, such 
 visits were regarded with pleasure, because the salutary im¬ 
 pressions which were thus made on them might lead to their 
 conversion. 'I he Apostle St. Paul desired that divine service 
 should be so conducted as to exert an influence of this kind on 
 such persons. We see no reason to justify a deviation from 
 this practice. There was no need to fear spies. The evil 
 reports spread abroad concerning the Christians could be best 
 refuted by eye-witnesses. Publicity was the best testimony to 
 the innocence of the Christians. To this, moreover, Tertullian 
 appeals : any one, he says, could convince himself of the false¬ 
 hood of those stories, as the churches were so often surprised in 
 their meetings, and thus many must have seen what was done 
 in them.I If then the pagans themselves were challenged to 
 testify what they had seen in the Christian assemblies when 
 thus surprised, there certainly was no reason for repelling all 
 visits of strangers for fear of spies. 
 
 But, when the celebration of the supper was disjoined from 
 the agapae and united with the other parts of divine service, it 
 might happen on this very account that men would believe it 
 
 * Dr. Ttothe, in the acute and ingenious dissertation which has already- 
 been referred to, de disciplina arcani, maintains the opinion that the 
 admission of unbelievers and catechumens to the first portion of the 
 service was a later arrangement; and that it was the change which took 
 place in the catechumenal instruction (see above, p. 422 ), and the intro¬ 
 duction of a class of catechumens into the church assemblies, in which 
 hitherto none but those that had been baptized took a part, which first 
 led to the comparing of the Christian worship with the Grecian myste¬ 
 ries, and to the distinguishing of a missa catechumenorum, and a missa 
 fidelium. But I cannot be persuaded that the suppositions on which 
 this opinion rests are sufficiently well grounded, although I confess there 
 is a want of precise data for a certain determination of the disputed 
 questions. The reasons for my opposite views, and against Rothe, lie in 
 my development of the matter itself. 
 
 f Apologet. c. 7 : Quotidie obsidemur, quotidie prodimur, in ipsis 
 plurimum ccetibus et congregationibus nostris opprimimur. 
 
 
 . •1*4: 
 
THE LORD’S SUPPER. 
 
 45 * 
 
 necessary to limit the presence of unbelievers, and to dismiss 
 them from the celebration and from the preparatory service, 
 because these, from their very nature, were designed only for 
 the members of the church, and because originally all who 
 were present partook also in the communion of the holy suppei. 
 Marcion, as a champion of apostolical simplicity in the church, 
 a warm opponent of all Jewish, hierarchical peculiarities, 
 combated the separation thus made between catechumens and 
 the baptized entitled to communion, and their dismissal from 
 certain prayers which were connected with the supper, as an 
 innovation alien from the original spirit of the apostolic, or, as 
 lie called it, of the Pauline church.* He was for the catechu¬ 
 mens taking part in all the prayers of the church.f He could 
 see nothing offensive even if those who did not intend to pai - 
 take were present also at the celebration of the holy supper. 
 Tertullian, on the other hand, objected to the heretics, among 
 whom he seems particularly to have had in mind the Marcion- 
 ites,—that in their assemblies it was impossible to distinguish 
 who were catechumens, and who were believers (baptized) ; 
 that all entered in alike or together, and took part in the 
 same prayers ; that, moreover, when heathens came in, the ho } 
 (such as it was) was thrown to dogs and the pearls befoie 
 swine: the celebration, he means, of the supper was exposed be¬ 
 fore the eyes of the profane; although, in truth, it was no Loid s 
 supper — for Tertullian proceeded on the assumption that, 
 among heretics, there could be neither a true baptism, noi a 
 true Lord’s supper.J From this passage it is perfectly clear, 
 not that the pagans assisted in the divine service among the 
 Marcionites and others, but that they could be present at the 
 
 * In reference to the position held by such, Tertullian, prescript, 
 haeret. c. 41 : Simplicitateiu volunt esse prostrationem disciplina;, cujus 
 penes nos curam lenociuium (a corruption of the primitive unity), 
 
 + See Jerome on the epist. Galat. vi. 6 : Marcion hunc locum ita inter- 
 pretatus est, ut putaret hdeles et catechumenos simul orare debere, et 
 ma<ustrum communicare in oratione discipulis.. _ . 
 
 X Tertullian, prescript, haeret. c. 41: Inprimis, quis cateclnimenus, 
 quis fidelis, incertum est; pariter adeunt, pariter orant, etiain ethmci si 
 supervenerint. A different sense presents itself according as we join 
 these words with what precedes or with what follows them. In the first 
 case the whole would be a continuation of the same thought, and by the 
 sanctum we should have to understand the church prayers. In the 
 second case the sense expressed in the text would answer to the original. 
 
455 
 
 THE lord’s SUPPER. 
 
 whole without distinction. This it was that offended Tertul- 
 lian. He demanded that, in the divine service, heathens, 
 catechumens, and baptized persons should take their several 
 places; that certain holy rites should be performed only in the 
 presence of the last, but be concealed from the gaze of the 
 profane. It was this arrangement the Marcionites combated, 
 by virtue of which the divine service was divided into two 
 portions, the acts in which catechumens and unbelievers might 
 take part, and those in which only the baptized could take part. 
 Here the comparison with the mysteries of the Greeks, of 
 which we have already spoken, found a place; although we 
 cannot assert that this division was originally the result of a 
 comparison with the Greek mysteries. For those only who 
 had been consecrated by baptism could the veil be removed 
 from the hidden sanctuary.* Thus it came about that, while 
 Justin Martyr did not scruple to describe to heathens the 
 administration of baptism and of the celebration of the Lord’s 
 supper, it was thought, on the other hand, after this transfer¬ 
 ring of the conception of the mysteries to the holy supper, that 
 one ought not to speak of these holy things before the uniniti¬ 
 ated. And this revolution coincides with the time of the great 
 revolution we have described in the views of Christians with 
 respect to the priesthood. To the inner connection which here 
 presents itself it is unnecessary to direct the attention of our 
 readers. 
 
 Even by the third century it had became customary for the 
 clergyman who presided at its administration, before offering 
 the prayers which were preparatory to the celebration of the 
 communion, to admonish the church to silent devotion, calling 
 
 * I cannot concur with Rothe in all the passages where he is disposed 
 to find an allusion to the Greek mysteries, or an affectation of secrecy in 
 imitation of them. In particular, in the language of Athenagoras, Legat. 
 pro Christianis, f. 37, ed. Colon., I can see no trace whatever of con¬ 
 cealment and mystery as to certain sacred rites. Athenagoras speaks of 
 the fact that the Christians, who distinguished themselves for their zeal 
 in behalf of strict morality, must expect to be accused by the pagans, 
 who were slaves to every lust, of the same unnatural debauchery which 
 they found existing among themselves, and in this connection he says, 
 “’g Ti o.v utotfiji tu avoppvra;’’ “What shall I say of that concerning 
 which one would prefer to be silent?” Indigna dictu. Not a word 
 here respecting the mysteries of the Greeks, nor respecting the sacra¬ 
 ments of the Christians, 
 
456 
 
 THE LORD’S SUPPER. 
 
 upon them to lift up their souls to heaven , and for the church 
 to respond— Yea , ice have them lifted up to the Lord* 
 
 We have already remarked that, from the Jewish passover, 
 the prayer of praise and thanks had, through Christ, passed 
 over to the Lord’s supper among the Christians. This prayer 
 of praise and thanks was, moreover, always considered as an 
 essential part of the solemnity ; and from it the Lord’s 
 supper obtained its name of the eucharist {ev^aparria]). The 
 president or bishop, taking the bread and wine from the table 
 that stood before him, gave thanks to God, in the name ot the 
 whole church, that He had created the things of nature 
 (which were here represented by the most essential means of 
 sustenance) for the use of man; and that He, the Lord of 
 nature, had also, for the sake of man, given his Son to appear 
 and suffer in a human nature. Both the thanksgiving for the 
 gifts of nature and the thanksgiving for the blessings of grace 
 were to the Christian mind intimately connected by a natural 
 association of ideas. For it is not until redeemed man returns 
 
 * Cyprian, de oratione dominica: Sacerdosante orationem prtefatione 
 prsemissa parat fratrum mentes dicendo : sursum corcla, ut dum respondet 
 plebs : habemus ad Dominion, admoueatur, nihil aliud sequam Dominion 
 cogitare debere. And Commodian, c. 76, in rebuking the female prac¬ 
 tice of talking in the church, says,— 
 
 Sacerdos Domini cum sursum eorda prrecepit; 
 
 In prece Genda ut liant silentia vestra, 
 
 Limpide respondes nec temperas quoque promissis. 
 
 Thus we already find traces of the liturgy which we become acquainted 
 with in the fourth century. _ . . 
 
 t The term iv^uciffr'ice. ! ’ is used metonymically, resembling in all 
 respects the phrase “ varn^iov ilxoyia;, 2 iL\oyov/j,tv in St. Paul — “ » 
 iv’^apnTTri^do ct/jro; x.a,\ u/vo; ” in Justin Martyr, the bread and wine over 
 which the prayer of thanksgiving has been pronounced. The latter says 
 expressly, that immediately after the president of the church has pro¬ 
 nounced this prayer of thanksgiving over the bread and wine, and the 
 church joined in it with their Amen, the sacramental elements were 
 distributed. He mentions no other consecration. He says, ‘H V tl>x*s 
 Xeyou rov vao' alrm (rov XonTrou) lux^ir'rnS-firix This Cannot 
 
 be a prayer which came verbally from Christ, for they had no such 
 prayer; but it is rather the prayer of thanks generally, instituted by him, 
 which, after his example, was to be offered at this celebration. It may 
 be, however, that the words of the institution were introduced into this 
 prayer. In the language used by Firmilian, Cyprian, ep. 75, “ invo- 
 catione non contemtibili sanctificare panem et eucharistiam facere,” lies 
 probably the idea of a consecration, whereby the ordinary bread became 
 the sacrament of the supper. 
 
ITS CONSECRATION. 
 
 457 
 
 to a childlike relation to the Heavenly Father, that lie truly 
 perceives how all has been bestowed on him by the love of his 
 Heavenly Father; now eveiy earthly gift acquires for him a 
 new and higher significancy, as a pledge of an eternal love, 
 imparting to man far higher blessings than these. All nature, 
 which before, in his bondage to sin, and estrangement from 
 God, had been desecrated by man, was now sanctified anew 
 for him as a redeemed creature ; and in the Lord’s supper the 
 earthly and natural was again to become transfigured into a 
 symbol or vehicle of the heavenly, the divine. With the 
 bodily food, thus sanctified by the prayer of thanksgiving, was 
 now to be connected, by the power of the same God who had 
 caused this earthly sustenance to grow for the use of man, a 
 higher, heavenly food for the life of the innward man. (We 
 shall say nothing at present of the different notions concerning 
 the relations of the signs to the thing represented.) 
 
 This connection of ideas was quite familiar to the early 
 Christians; they often made use of it in their controversies with 
 the Gnostics, who affected a contempt for nature. Attached to 
 this, moreover, was the allusion of a peculiar custom of the 
 church at this period ; the members of the community them¬ 
 selves offered wine and bread as free gifts, and from these were 
 taken the elements for the celebration of the Lord’s supper.* 
 These gifts were regarded as the spiritual thank-offering of the 
 Christians. The president of the church, in taking from these 
 gifts the elements for the Lord’s supper, and consecrating them 
 to God with praise and thanksgiving, represented the whole 
 community as one priestly race, as one in the Lord, and as 
 ready to devote again to the service of God all that they had 
 received from Him. This thank-offering of the Christians, 
 considered as a spiritual offering of the heart, as a free expres¬ 
 sion of childlike love and gratitude, was opposed to the sacri¬ 
 ficial worship of the pagans and Jews. In part, these gifts of 
 the Christians; in part, the prayer of thanks of the presiding 
 church officer, with which they were consecrated to God; in 
 
 * This usage, which is already plainly presupposed by the allusions 
 of Justin Martyr, of Irenams, is mentioned in express terms by Cyprian, 
 de opere et eleemosynis, where he rebukes the rich woman who came to 
 the communion without bringing with her a gift of charity for the neces¬ 
 sities of the church. Locuples et dives es, et dominicum sine sacrificio 
 venis, qum partem de sacrificio, quod pauper obtulit, sumis ? 
 
45S 
 
 tiie lord’s supper. 
 
 part, finally, the entire celebration of the Lord’s sapper, was 
 called (originally in this sense only) an offering or sacrifice, 
 Trpoa<popa, Syria* In this sense Justin Martyr says,t “ The 
 prayers and thanksgivings offered by worthy men are the only 
 true sacrifices well-pleasing to God ; these alone have the 
 Christians learned to offer.” He regards this as a proof of the 
 priestly nature of the Christians ; since God receives offerings 
 from none but His priests. In this sense Irenseus, contrasting 
 those spiritual offerings with every species of ceremonial con¬ 
 nected with a sacrificial worship, observes, ‘‘It is not the 
 offering that sanctifies the man, but it is the conscience of 
 the offerer that sanctifies this offering, if it be pure, and induces 
 God to receive it as from a friend.” \ 
 
 Accordingly, the idea of a sacrifice in the supper of the 
 Lord was at first barely symbolical; and originally this idea did 
 not even have reference to the sacrifice of Christ.§ The only 
 thing originally had in view was, I think, the spiritual thank- 
 offering of the Christians, of which the presentation of the 
 bread and wine, the first fruits of nature’s gifts, served as a 
 symbol; while no doubt the consciousness of the new relation 
 to God', which the sufferings of Christ had given to the 
 redeemed, was implied throughout. || Afterwards the refer- 
 
 * Hence the expression which occurs so frequently in Cyprian: obla- 
 tionem alicujus accipere, offerre. To receive such gifts from any one 
 for the church,—to take from them the elements of the supper and con¬ 
 secrate them,—was evidence that he was considered to be a regular 
 member of the church. 
 
 t Dial. c. Tryph. Jud. f. 345. t Iren. 1. IV. c. 18 % 
 
 [§ But does not St. Paul imply a reference to this sacrifice, 1 Cor. xi. 
 
 26, 27?] 
 
 J| A single passage in Irenmus, 1. IV. c. 18, s. 4, seems to speak a 
 different language: “verbum quod offertur Deo;” therefore the Logos 
 himself, Christ,°is offered up in the sacrament of the supper. But even 
 if there were no other reading, yet this could not be the genuine one; 
 for such an expression would not only manifestly contradict the whole 
 chain and connection of ideas elsewhere so luminously exhibited in Ire¬ 
 nes, but it would also be unsuited to what immediately precedes. He 
 had just said, “offertur Deo ex creatura ejus” (thus the offering is v 
 referred to the bread and wine); and in the preceding chapter, s. 6, it is 
 said, “ per Christum offert ecclesia.” Beyond question, therefore, the 
 reading of other manuscripts at this place, “ per quod offertur,” must be 
 received as the true one. It is precisely the reference to Christ, the high 
 priest, which gives, as well to this spiritual thank-offering as to the entire 
 Christian life, the right consecration. This is the meaning of Irenaeus. 
 
ITS ELEMENTS. 459 
 
 ence to the death of Christ was made more prominent, yet so 
 that it continued still to be no more than the idea of a com¬ 
 memorative or symbolical representation of this sacrifice. But 
 as one error begets another, it was quite natural that the 
 notion of a particular priesthood in the Christian church, 
 corresponding to that in the Old Testament, should give birth 
 to the notion of a sacrificial worship in the New which should 
 stand in a similar relation to that of the Old; and so it came 
 about that the whole idea of sacrifice in the Lord’s supper, 
 which in the first instance was simply symbolical, took a direc¬ 
 tion altogether wide of its true import, the earliest indications 
 of which we find in Cyprian. 
 
 Common bread, such as was presented by the church, was 
 used for the Lord’s supper. Justin Martyr calls it expressly 
 common bread (koivoq aprog). Those who went on the suppo¬ 
 sition that Christ kept the passover a day earlier than it was 
 usually observed could have no reason for taking other than 
 common bread for the celebration of the ordinance; but even 
 those who held the contrary opinion did not think the use of 
 unleavened bread an essential thing in the performance of the 
 rite. We meet with but one exception, in a class of Judaizing 
 Christians *—an exception, however, which explains itself. 
 Tins body only celebrated the Lord’s supper once in the year, 
 at the feast of the passover, in remembrance of the last supper 
 of Christ; hence they were bound, as still observing the 
 Jewish ceremonial law, to use unleavened bread.f As among 
 the ancients, and especially in the East, it was not customary 
 to drink at meal-time pure wine unmingled with water, it was 
 taken for granted that Christ also, at the institution of the 
 supper, made use of wine mixed with water. The taste, how¬ 
 ever, for higher mystical interpretations could not be satisfied 
 with this simple, but, as it seemed, too trivial explanation of 
 the prevailing custom. The mixing of water with the wine 
 was said to denote the union of the church with Christ.J 
 
 * Epiphanius says respecting the Ebionites of liis time that they 
 annually celebrated the communion with unleavened bread and with 
 water (the latter because their ascetic principles allowed not the use of 
 wine). 
 
 f See what is to be said hereafter of the Ebionites. 
 
 J Quaudo in calice vino aqua miscetur, Christo populus adunatur. 
 Cyprian, ep. 63. 
 
460 
 
 PRIVATE COMMUNION. 
 
 As we have already remarked, the celebration of the Lord’s 
 | supper, as appears from Justin Martyr, was still held to con¬ 
 stitute an essential part of divine worship on every Sunday ; 
 and the whole church partook of the communion after they 
 had joined in the Amen of the preceding prayer. The deacons 
 carried the bread and wine to every one present, in order. It 
 was held necessary that all the Christians in the place should, 
 by participating in the communion, maintain their union with 
 the Lord and his church ; the deacons therefore carried a por¬ 
 tion of the consecrated bread and wine to strangers, to the sick, 
 to prisoners, and all who were prevented from being present 
 in the congregation.* 
 
 In some churches, however, as for example that of North 
 Africa, the daily partaking of the communion continued to be 
 held necessary ; since it was considered the daily bond of 
 union between the Lord and the church, the daily means of 
 promoting strength, life, and salvation to Christians. Accord¬ 
 ingly Tertullian and Cyprian give a spiritual explanation of 
 the petition for our daily bread, as looking for an uninterrupted 
 sanctifying union with the body of Christ through the Lord s 
 supper. But when there was no longer a daily service, or a 
 daily celebration of the Lord’s supper, the only means left 
 was to carry home a portion of the consecrated bread, which, 
 in this case of necessity, was to be the substitute for the whole 
 communion—the first trace of the practice of receiving the 
 Lord’s supper under one kind. r lhus every Christian, with 
 his family, after the morning devotions, and before engaging 
 in his daily business, partook of the communion at home, that 
 the life of the whole ensuing day might be sanctified by fel¬ 
 lowship with the Lord. In all this we recognise ideas which 
 have their foundation in the very depth of the Christian 
 
 * In the description of the rite by Justin and by Irenmus, cited in 
 Eusebius, 1. V. C. 24 : Il:^!rii» lii^uoiirriuv tois Ato rut tragoixiut trct- 
 poumt, where the author is speaking of the Roman bishops. Thus arose 
 first the custom of communicating with elements previously consecrated 
 (the rr^otiyiaryAta, as they were afterwards called). The ruling idea 
 was, that the communion could properly be rightly administered only in 
 a church; the communion, therefore, of persons absent was to be con¬ 
 sidered as only a continuation of that communion of the whole body of 
 the church. But when in Cyprian mention is made of preshyteris apud 
 confessores offerentibus, the meaning probably is, that the elements were 
 first consecrated by the presbyters on the spot. 
 
.iu’itiiiitH 1 ' ■ .tljliiiii tjilii!:'!: '|“ i ii'fitti 
 
 INFANT COMMUNION. 461 
 
 consciousness; but amidst them we also discern the same 
 disturbing tendency to an over-estimate of external things, 
 which we have already met with in so many different forms, 
 and which was ever prone to ascribe an almost magic power 
 of sanctification to the sensible elements.* 
 
 In other countries, however, perhaps even as early as this 
 date, the church acted upon the principle that no one ought 
 to partake of the holy supper without a previous especial 
 preparation of the heart, and therefore only at stated seasons 
 chosen according to each one’s necessities. The learned / 
 Hippolytus, who lived in the first half of the third century, 
 wrote even at this early date a treatise on the question, “ whe- | 
 tlier a man ought to communicate daily or only at stated : 
 seasons.” ^ 
 
 As the church of North Africa was the first to bring pro¬ 
 minently forward the necessity of infant baptism, so did they 
 also join with it the communion of infants; for as they did not 
 sufficiently distinguish between the sign and the divine thing 
 which it signified, and as they understood all that is said in the 
 sixth chapter of John’s gospel concerning the eating of the 
 flesh and drinking the blood of Christ of the mere outward 
 participation in the Lord’s supper, they concluded that this, 
 from the very first, was absolutely necessary to the attainment 1 
 of salvation. J 
 
 The celebration of the Lord’s supper was the seal of every 
 
 * To this custom the following passages refer. Tertullian, speaking 
 of the suspicion of the pagan husband towards his Christian wife, Ad 
 uxorem, 1. II. c. 5 : Non sciet maritus, quid secreto ante omnem cibum 
 gustes? Et si sciverit panem, non ilium credit esse, qui dicitur.—De 
 orat. c. 19 (in the piece discovered by Muratori), Accepto corpore 
 Domini et reservato (respecting a Christian mistress of a family), area 
 sua, in qua Domini sanctum fuit.§ Cyprian, de lapsis, p. 189, ed. Baluz. 
 —In the work ascribed to Cyprian, de spectaculis, respecting one who 
 runs from the church to the theatre: Festinans ad spectaculum, dismissus 
 e dominico et adhuc gerens secum, ut assolet, euebaristiam. 
 
 f See Hieronym. ep. 71, ad Lucin. 
 
 % And so it came about that to children who were not yet able to eat 
 bread they gave wine. Cfr. Cyprian, de lapsis. Another example of a 
 superstitious abuse, contrary to the original institution, leading to a 
 separation of the elements of the supper. 
 
 [§ Mr. H. J. Rose points out that this quotation is a compound of 
 two; the words down to “ reservato” being from Tertullian, and those 
 beginning with “ area ” from Cyprian.— Eng. Ed .] 
 
462 
 
 COMMUNION IN MEMORY 
 
 religious consecration. It was accordingly used at the con¬ 
 clusion of a marriage,* and also at the solemnities in comme¬ 
 moration of the dead. Of the latter we will here speak some¬ 
 what more at large. 
 
 As Christianity in no case suppressed the natural feelings of 
 man, but ennobled them; as generally it opposed not only the 
 corrupt civilization which -would crush these feelings of nature, 
 but also their unrestrained indulgence in a rude uncivilized 
 state, so it exercised a similar influence with regard to 
 mourning for the dead. From the very first, Christianity 
 condemned the wild and hypocritical expressions of grief with 
 which the funeral procession was accompanied—the loud wail¬ 
 ings of women who had been hired for the occasion (mulieres 
 prseficse) ; and yet it demanded no stoical resignation and 
 apathy, but rather sought to mitigate and refine the anguish of 
 sorrow by the spirit of faith and hope, and of childlike submis¬ 
 sion to that eternal love which takes away only to restore under 
 a more glorious form all that it has taken; which separates 
 for the moment, in order to unite again those whom it has se¬ 
 parated in a glorified state for all eternity. When multitudes 
 at Carthage were swept away by a desolating pestilence, 
 Cyprian said to his church, “We ought not to mourn for 
 those who, by the summons of the Lord, are delivered from 
 the world, since we know they are not lost, but sent before 
 us; that they have only taken their leave of us in order to 
 precede us. We may long for them as we do for those who are 
 on a distant voyage, but not lament them. We must not put 
 on dark robes of mourning here below, while above they have 
 already put on the white robes of glory; we must not give 
 the heathens just cause to accuse us both of weeping for them 
 as lost and extinct, of whom, nevertheless, we say that they are 
 alive with God , and of failing to prove by the witness of our 
 hearts the faith we confess with our lips. We,' who live 
 in hope, who believe in God, and trust that Christ suffered and 
 rose again for us; we, who abide in Christ, who through Him 
 and in Him rise again,—why do we not ourselves wish to 
 depart out of this world ; or why do we mourn our departed 
 ones as lost, when Christ, our Lord and God, exhorts us, 
 
 * Oblatio pro matrimonio. As to what is to be understood by this, 
 see above. 
 
• tin* 
 
 OF THE MARTYRS. 
 
 463 
 
 saying, ‘I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth 
 in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever 
 liveth and believeth in me shall never die ’ ? Why do we not 
 hasten to see our country, to greet our parents ? There there 
 awaits us a vast multitude of dear ones, fathers, brothers, and 
 children, who are already secure of their own salvation, and 
 anxious only for ours. What a mutual joy to them and to us, 
 when we come into their presence and embrace ! ” * Out of 
 this tone of feeling arose the Christian custom that the 
 memory of the dead should be celebrated by their relations, 
 husbands, or wives, on the anniversary of their death, in a 
 manner suited to the spirit of Christian faith and hope. It 
 was usual on this day to partake of the supper of the Lord in 
 the consciousness of an inseparable communion with those 
 who had died in Christ: a gift was laid on the altar in their 
 name, as if they were still living members of the church; and 1 
 in return for this, the petition for peace to the souls of the de¬ 
 parted was introduced into the prayer of the church which 
 preceded the communion, f 
 
 But when the ideas of the priesthood and sacrifice took 
 another shape, this circumstance also would necessarily react 
 on the Christian commemorations associated with this holy rite. 
 We meet with indications of this as early as in Cyprian. 
 
 While individual Christians and Christian families cele¬ 
 brated in this manner the memory of the dead who were espe¬ 
 cially near to them by the ties of kindred, whole churches also 
 commemorated those who had died in the midst of them as 
 witnesses for the Lord. J The anniversary of their deaths was 
 looked upon as their birthday to a nobler existence. Great 
 care was bestowed on the burial of their bodily remains, 
 as the sanctified organs of holy souls, which one day were to 
 awake for their use in a more glorious form. On every 
 yearly return of their birthday (in the sense which has been 
 explained) the peojrle gathered round their graves, where the 
 story of their confession and sufferings was read aloud, and the 
 
 * Cyprian, de mortalitate. 
 
 t Oblationes pro defunctis annua die faeiemus. Tertullian, de corona 
 milit. c. 3, as an ancient tradition. The same writer says to a widower, 
 in reference to his deceased wife, “ Pro cujus spiritu postulas, pro qua 
 oblationes annuas reddis. Commendabis per sacerdotem,” etc. De ex- 
 hortatione castitat. c. 11. 
 
 J The dies uatales, natalitia martyrum, yivlS-Xia ruv 
 
464 
 
 COMMEMORATIVE FESTIVALS. 
 
 communion celebrated under a conviction of a continued fel¬ 
 lowship with them, through union with Him for Whom, by their 
 sufferings, they had witnessed a good confession.* * * § The simple 
 Christian character of these commemorative festivals is evinced 
 by the manner in which the church at Smyrna, in their account 
 of the martyrdom of Polycarp, their bishop, answered the 
 reproach of the heathens, who refused to give up the remains 
 of the martyr lest the Christians should abandon the crucified 
 and begin to worship him .f “ Ye are not aware,” writes the 
 church, “ that we can neither forsake that Christ who suffered 
 for the salvation of the whole world of the redeemed, nor 
 worship any other. We supplicate Him as the Son of God ; 
 but the martyrs we love , as they deserve for their exceeding 
 love to their King and Master, and because we also wish 
 to become their companions and fellow-disciples.” J The 
 church then proceeds to say,-— 1 “ We gathered up his bones, 
 which are more precious than gold or jewels, and deposited 
 them in a becoming place ; and God will grant us to assemble 
 there in joy and festivity, and to celebrate the birthday of his 
 martyrdom, both as a commemoration of the departed warrior, 
 and as an exercise and preparation of those whom the battle still 
 awaits.” § Yet it cannot be denied that as early as the time of 
 Cyprian, or even earlier (for Tertullian, when a Montanist, 
 argued against this error), the germ of an. excessive veneration 
 for the martyrs was already showing itself. So universally is man 
 inclined to over-estimate the human , to deify the instrument, 
 which should rather direct the heart to Him who employs it; 
 and whenever the germ of falsehood has once manifested itself, 
 it will (if it be not checked by a mighty reaction of the sense of 
 truth) before long unfold its errors and spread wider and wider. 
 
 * The oblationes, sacrificia pro martyribus, presupposed originally 
 that the martyrs were like other sinful men, who stood in need of the 
 intercessions of Christians. This usage, in its original sense, was little 
 in harmony with an extravagant veneration of the martyrs; this cir¬ 
 cumstance accordingly must have afterwards led to a different inter¬ 
 pretation of the ancient custom. 
 
 f Euscb. 1. IV. c. 15. See above, p .153. 
 
 J Toot ot fit yag olov otra too Tootrxotoo^.it' too; oi fjjty.oTOort;, it; 
 
 /xuStiTa; too y.ooioo xcii /xifxriTcc; cLyaoruptit, aftut ttsxu tbtota; ut bonofoXnroo 
 Tt j; u; rot i'btot fouriX-a xai 'htbuaxa.Xot. 
 
 § Ei'j n rut orcor.SXrixoTut fxtr.ixnt, xa.) rut [iiXXotrut atjKr,Tit rt xa.) 
 irciftariav. 
 
DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINES. 
 
 465 
 
 SECTION FOURTH. 
 
 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY, APPREHENDED AND DE¬ 
 VELOPED AS A SYSTEM OF DOCTRINES. 
 
 The same law according to which, as we have seen in the 
 preceding sections, Christianity unfolded and shaped itself out¬ 
 wardly from within, will again offer itself to our notice in the 
 piesent section, in which we propose to trace the progressive 
 development of Christian doctrine. It is the law expressed 
 in the words we have prefixed as the motto to this volume — 
 words employed by our blessed Lord himself to describe the 
 manner in which his kingdom should be developed on the 
 earth. As the little leaven cast into the lump of meal pro¬ 
 duces in it a process of fermentation, and, working by its inhe¬ 
 rent virtue, assimilates the whole to itself; so Christianity— 
 the heavenly leaven—by the power of a divine life, created a 
 ferment in human nature, which from its hidden depths, the 
 inmost recesses of the natural heart, extended its influence 
 both to the faculties of thought and the outward conduct, 
 assimilating, transforming, and fashioning the whole to its 
 own likeness;—an effect which could only be brought about 
 by a gradual process of development, and after manifold con¬ 
 flicts with the foreign elements it had to subdue. Having 
 contemplated the workings of Christianity in the phenomena of 
 life, it will now be our object to traced hem in the develop¬ 
 ment of thought and of knowledge. 
 
 As it is one essential characteristic of Christianity that it 
 did not deliver a new law ot the letter in distinct precepts, nor 
 found a new society, organized from without by certain inva¬ 
 riable external forms ; so it is another, that it did not commu¬ 
 nicate a rigid system of doctrines, settled and determined once 
 for all in a sum of certain fixed notions. In both respects the 
 word of the quickening Spirit was to make its way outwards 
 from within—in the shaping of the external life, as well as in 
 the stamping of its doctrines into distinct notions. The divine 
 revelation was so framed, that by man’s reason divinely en¬ 
 lightened, while his conduct was regulated by the new divine 
 
 VOL. I. 2 H 
 
466 
 
 DEVELOPMENT OF 
 
 life, it might be elaborated and developed in proportion as he 
 became more fully penetrated by its spirit, and with free 
 activity in a way befitting its peculiar essence. It was not 
 something engrafted on the characters of men, that would for 
 ever remain foreign to them; but a divine matter, suited to 
 all individualities of human character, in which these were 
 to find, not their annihilation, but their completion, was de¬ 
 signed for the very end of being adopted by each in his own 
 way, and of being developed by them in the most appropriate 
 form. As Christ Himself, the second man, the prototype of the 
 new regenerated humanity, is exalted above all the contrasts 
 of human individuality, and comprises in Himself the original 
 elements of them all harmoniously combined ; so what in Him 
 is one, must, in the ennobled human nature proceeding from 
 Him, be individualized. The manifold peculiarities of cha¬ 
 racter, destined, when animated by His life, to present ditferent 
 phases of Himself, were to cooperate, each supplying what the 
 others might lack, to give a perfect exhibition of the lulness 
 of Christ^in the course of history.* And this law finds its 
 application at the very outset in those who formed the neces¬ 
 sary connecting links between Himsell and the succeeding 
 development of the church—those organs and vehicles of His 
 Spirit to all subsequent ages. The mode of apprehending and 
 presenting that divine truth, which is one in essence, was of 
 necessity, even at this point, separated into four great and pecu¬ 
 liar directions, which were, so to speak, the complements 
 one of another in exhibiting the whole fulness of Christ; as 
 is evident when we compare the different characters of St. 
 James and St. Peter, St. Paul and St. John. The spirit of 
 Christ exercised too mighty an influence over their respective 
 ^characters, which it attracted and animated, for it to be possible 
 
 * I cannot deny myself the pleasure of calling attention to those 
 beautiful words of Schleiermacher, which express so profound an under¬ 
 standing as well of the historical development of Christianity as of the 
 essential character of Christ. “ If we contemplate Christendom in its 
 full and complete sense, if we can but for a moment so illuminate the 
 mind’s eye and so kindle the fire of love in the heart as to be no longer 
 shocked and repelled by differences, we shall find in them all, taken 
 together not only the fulness of Christ and the fulness of the undivided 
 Spirit of God, but we shall also see therein the Father who has revealed 
 himself in his Son, and be able to take in at a glance all these several 
 broken rays of divine light as they proceed from one central point. 
 Schleiermacher’s Predigten, neue Ausgabe, B. III. p. 590. 
 
CHRISTIAN DOCTRINES. 
 
 46/ 
 
 for them to unfold themselves in such a degree of opposition 
 as to exclude one another. Whatever, therefore, was diverse 
 in them remained subordinate to a hig'her unity. And so 
 ever after;—it depended on the natural diversities of human 
 character which of these grand tendencies in the original 
 presentation of Christianity should chiefly attract each man • 
 and on which side, in what form of it, each could appropriate 
 it to himself and conceive it. 
 
 But m its later course of development the power of Christ’s 
 spirit no longer predominated, subordinating the human ele¬ 
 ment to itself, but on the contrary, the human individuality 
 was felt more and more. And now partial systems arose 
 running counter to each other, and doing in one way or an¬ 
 other great injury to the cause of divine truth; and it was 
 reserved to the further progress and purification of the church 
 to restore once more a clear apprehension of that unity in the 
 midst of these conflictmg elements. 
 
 In the preceding section we have seen Christianity in conflict 
 with the religious principles of the old world—with paganism 
 and Judaism. But the conflict was not merely an open one, 
 but those principles insinuated themselves into the very modes 
 of apprehending Christianity itself, threatening to corrupt it 
 by owering it to their own standard and blending themselves 
 
 tii it. And we shall observe the same phenomena in the 
 process of the development of doctrines. As, in the pro¬ 
 gressive evolution of the Christian life, we saw Jewish and 
 agan elements entering in with a pernicious influence, and 
 i‘\u ieless the Christian principle preserving itself pure in 
 conflict with both ; so in the history of doctrine we shall again 
 witness the same tendency. And thus, as they both sprang 
 from a common root, we shall be able to perceive the intimate 
 connection between the development of the Christian principle 
 
 doctnne and in life, m dogmatics and in ethics. Now, 
 
 tlfwiR f / gl °- S , tendencies of the old world, which were 
 the first that from without presented themselves in hostility to 
 ChrLstiamty, became so mixed up with its inner development 
 as to mutilate the very foundation of the Christian faith by 
 appropriating a part only, there those phenomena arose which 
 weie distinguished by the name of heresies.* In later times, 
 
 *, Z! lp i WOr<1 jn its original signification, grounded on its etv- 
 
 mology, has, as is well known, no bad meaning attached to it- h„t in 
 the philosophical usus loquendi denotes the choice of certain principles 
 
 2 h 2 
 
 f 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
468 
 
 HERESIES. 
 
 however, this name has often been employed in a very different 
 manner. A single dominant sect refusing to recognise the 
 manifold phases that in the healthy development of Christian 
 truth necessarily presented themselves, and seeking to substitute 
 for the unity which exhibits itself in multiplicity, a uni for nut) 
 fatal to the healthy process of development, has too often 
 attempted by this name to brand as a morbid symptom every 
 deviation from its own mode of apprehending Christianity, 
 which claimed to be the only healthy one. 
 
 The varied and great phenomena of the heresies which arose 
 in this period, exhibiting the elements of Jewish and Oriental- 
 Greek culture in various combinations, reveal, on one side, 
 the chaotic heavings of a world out of joint, on the point 
 either of dissolution or of rising into a new creation, which a 
 new in-breathing of the breath of life was to call forth out of 
 the chaos. On the other hand they bear witness to the mighty 
 attractive power which the manifestation of Christ exerted 
 on the various elements of this chaos and of the powerful 
 impression which it produced, both by attraction and repul¬ 
 sion. Even if nothing had come down to us save the know¬ 
 ledge of these phenomena,— if we knew nothing of the causes 
 by which they were produced, — yet any profoundly reflective 
 mind would feel constrained to recognise, in these mighty 
 after-workings, some still greater phenomenon that had pre¬ 
 ceded them ; and it would doubtless be possible, from a study 
 of the one, to infer the character of the other 
 
 Since in these heresies we must recognise the reaction of 
 different principles, which, having prevailed in the ancient 
 worldj had forced their way into Christianity itself and sought 
 
 for the whole regulation of life,—some particular conviction determining 
 the character of the life. Hence it was used to designate the different 
 schools of philosophy, which were divided each from the other by their 
 difference iu respect to such convictions. Thus Sextus Empiricus gives, 
 as the most general definition of the word, xiyy mi ™ ^yo^.vov 
 
 dxo\ou$oZ<ra ccyuyy i. But where the question turns not on the different 
 opinions of men with regard to important subjects, but on truth commu¬ 
 nicated by divine revelation, whereby the foundation is to be laid of a 
 fellowship and unity of religious conviction, of an all-embracing church, 
 the word a'U<ns , as opposed to this postulate, as denoting the prepon¬ 
 derance of the subjective side, whereby that higher fellowship and unity 
 are violated, takes in the associated idea of arbitrary human opinion, 
 through which divine truth becomes corrupted; and with such an asso¬ 
 ciated evil meaning the term seems to be employed even in the usus 
 loquendi of the New Testament. 
 
HEBETICAL TENDENCIES. 
 
 469 
 
 to maintain themselves in union with it, they must have sub¬ 
 served one important end. The Christian mind, while it 
 repelled these reactions, must in this opposition have developed 
 and expressed itself still more clearly than it could have done 
 if these fundamental principles had assailed Christianity merely 
 from without. These conflicts could not fail to result in a 
 more clearly developed and more sharply defined conviction 
 of the distinctive essence of Christianity generally, and of its 
 several doctrines in particular. 
 
 By considering the oppositions most distinctly marked 
 between the heresies of this period and that process of develop¬ 
 ment by which the Christian consciousness, which was thus 
 more clearly unfolded, came forth triumphant from these con¬ 
 flicts, we see the truth of those words of the Christian philo¬ 
 sopher which w r e selected for the motto of our work, — 
 that all oppositions find themselves resolved and reconciled in 
 Christ. 
 
 Since then, the development of Christian doctrine can only 
 be rightly understood by taking into view its conflict with 
 the heresies, we must first turn our attention to the considera¬ 
 tion of these phenomena. 
 
 Heretical Tendencies. 
 
 What were the two chief tendencies of the heretical spirit 
 will appear by considering the relation of Christianity to the 
 previous religious development of mankind. Christianity 
 was the new creation which had its germ in Judaism. In 
 common with Judaism, it possessed not only the character 
 of a revealed religion, as opposed to the religion of nature in 
 heathenism, but also the basis of a theocracy, and yet it was 
 something entirely new. It was in short a principle which 
 aimed at the transformation of all that existed. The least 
 among those who shared in this new creation was to be greater 
 than the greatest among the prophets. It was at once the 
 dissolution and the fulfilment of Judaism. To a right under¬ 
 standing, therefore, of Christianity, it was essential that both 
 these relations should be rightly apprehended. It would be 
 requisite to see how, while Judaism was to meet with its fulfil¬ 
 ment in Christianity, at the same time the distinct religious 
 principle which Judaism had till now maintained was to be 
 dissolved. Christianity must be rightly understood, both in its 
 close connection with the preparatory elements of Judaism, and 
 
470 
 
 HERETICAL TENDENCIES. 
 
 also in its opposition to the same. According as either the oppo¬ 
 sition was lost sight of in the intimate connection, or the inti¬ 
 mate connection was overlooked in the opposition, two opposing 
 tendencies to error might arise. And in these main directions of 
 the heretical spirit we shall easily trace the influence ot the two 
 contrary elements of culture which were attracted by Christi¬ 
 anity—the antagonism of the Jewish and of the Hellenic mind. 
 As the new spirit which Christ introduced into humanity was 
 at first covered and hidden beneath the old forms of Judaism, 
 which it was afterwards to destroy by its own inherent power; 
 as it was from their previous religious principles that the Jews 
 passed to a knowledge of Jesus as the Messiah promised in 
 the Old Testament, it naturally happened that in their minds 
 the doctrine of Christ was blended with their previous Judaism. 
 Accordingly they expected that the development of Christi¬ 
 anity, like its first manifestation, should be invested in the forms 
 of Judaism, and so required that what was merely a passing 
 moment should be retained as of lasting obligation. The free 
 Greek spirit, on the other hand, which struggled hardest 
 beneath the yoke of the law, was most strongly attracted by 
 that particular in the appearance of Christ and in Christianity 
 which most directly opposed the restraints of Judaism. It 
 therefore would be tempted to apprehend Christianity simply 
 as a religion opposed to Judaism; to deny absolutely the fact 
 of their common divine foundation ; to explain the connection 
 between them as merely accidental; and to overlook the more 
 profound and necessary inner connection and the higher unity 
 which existed between the two religions. Indeed, as early as 
 the time of St. Paul, we may perceive the germ of this opposition 
 —the opposition, that is, between those who maintained ex¬ 
 clusively the authority of the apostles of Palestine, and those 
 who attached themselves exclusively to the Apostle St. Paul, 
 —between those who remained in bondage to the Jewish law, 
 and those who gloried in their Christian freedom and higher 
 knowledge.* The same opposition appears still more 
 strongly developed by the times of St. John ;f and from it 
 arose afterwards the opposition between the Judaizing and the 
 Gnostic views of Christianity. When this opposition attains 
 to its full development, it of all others most deeply affects the 
 entire apprehension of Christianity, and extends alike to all its 
 
 * See my Apostol. Zeitalter, Bd. I. S. 314, ff. 
 
 f Id. Bd. II. S. 532, ff. 
 

 THE JUDAIZ1XG SECTS. 471 
 
 ethical and all its dogmatic elements. The first of these 
 mental tendencies cleaves to the temporal earthly form of 
 manifestation alone, without divining the higher spirit which is 
 embodied and hidden beneath it; the other disdains that tem¬ 
 poral form of manifestation, although it is the necessary 
 medium for the appropriation of the spirit, and would have 
 the spirit without its external medium. The one adheres to 
 the letter, without penetrating to the revelation of the spirit; 
 the other thinks to grasp the spirit without the letter. The 
 one sees nothing in Christ but the Son of man; the other, 
 nothing but the Son of God;—and so in Christianity the one 
 would have only the human element without the divine ; the 
 other, the divine alone without the human. The last antithesis 
 is of the utmost importance with regard to the essence of Chris¬ 
 tian morality. For as this presupposes the oneness ol the 
 Son of God and the Son of man in Christ, so the ennobling 
 of the entire man, as the form of manifestation ot the divine 
 life, is the principle of it, and that which flows directly from 
 this assumption. 
 
 Of these two main tendencies, we shall now proceed to con¬ 
 sider, first, the one which exhibited itself in the Judaizing 
 sects. 
 
 The Judaizing Sects. 
 
 This heretical tendency, as is clear from what has been 
 already said, is the oldest that interfered with the regular 
 development of Christianity. Fixing itself on Christianity at 
 the very spot of its birth, it gradually extended itself. That 
 which was but crude and imperfect, and constituted the first 
 necessary link in the chain of development, set itself first of all 
 in opposition to the progressive movement which Christianity 
 aimed at ; and then that which was in its right place at 
 the beginning, giving itself out to be the end and the aim, 
 asserted its own validity against the free development of the 
 spirit when it burst from the shell in which it had been pre¬ 
 viously confined ; till at last the same carnal and narrow Jew¬ 
 ish principle, which, after showing its hostility to Christianity 
 by decided unbelief, received Christianity indeed, but after 
 its own fashion, taking up, that is, the shell instead of the 
 kernel;—when that same carnal mind, to which our Saviour’s 
 sublime words had so often been a stone of stumbling, 
 believed his words in part, it is true, but again betrayed itself 
 
472 
 
 THE JUDAIZING SECTS. 
 
 by misconstruing their meaning,—by interpreting them accord¬ 
 ing to the letter, and not according to the spirit. However, it 
 is necessary carefully to distinguish the different gradations in 
 this tendency, from what was merely an imperfect and subor¬ 
 dinate stage of Christian knowledge up to that which is 
 properly heresy. 
 
 We must bear in mind that the faith in Jesus as the pro¬ 
 mised Messiah was the fundamental doctrine on which the 
 whole edifice of the church was raised. Accordingly, the first 
 Christian church was formed of very heterogeneous materials. 
 It was composed of such as differed from other Jews only by 
 acknowledging Jesus to be the Messiah, but who were still bound 
 to the same contracted Jewish notions as before ; and of such as, 
 coming to know Jesus more and more as the Messiah in a high 
 and spiritual sense, and surrendering themselves with docility 
 to the spirit of Christ under the inworking of that spirit, were 
 ever growing in their Christian knowledge, and were continu¬ 
 ally more and more set free from their besetting errors. These 
 heterogeneous elements, which, in the first churches that were 
 formed among the Jews, were united outwardly rather than 
 inwardly, must, in the progressive development, be separated 
 more and more from each other. The sifting process of time 
 must effect a separation between those who had really been 
 touched with the spirit of Christianity and those who still 
 belonged more truly to Judaism. To this necessary separation 
 we may apply the words of St. Paul, 1 Corinth, xi. 19, and 
 of St. John, 1 Ep. ii. 19. 
 
 As Christ himself had faithfully observed the Mosaic law, 
 so at first the faithful observance of it was retained by all 
 believers, and was held to be a necessary condition of partici¬ 
 pating in the Messiah’s kingdom. After the preparatory 
 labours of Stephen the martyr, and of other men of Hellenistic 
 origin and education, and of Peter, that which Christ in¬ 
 tended, when he said that he was not come to destroy the law 
 but to fulfil it, and when he called himself the Lord of the 
 Sabbath—that which he meant by the worship of God, no 
 longer confined to any particular time [?] or place, but in 
 spirit and in truth,—the essence of the new spiritual creation, 
 which is grounded in the resurrection of Christ,* was clearly 
 
 * Following the Pauline train of thought. As the risen Christ pos¬ 
 sesses a life raised above the dominion of nature, the aroi^ua. rev xor/xov 
 so too the spiritual life of those who are spiritually risen with him is 
 
TIIE JUDAIZING SECTS. 
 
 473 
 
 conceived and expressed by the Apostle Paul, and an inde¬ 
 pendent Christian church, wholly unconnected with Judaism, 
 was formed among the Gentiles. Already a schism appeared 
 to be imminent between the two elements of which the Chris¬ 
 tian church was composed,'—the prevailing notion of Christi¬ 
 anity in Palestine, with its decided leaning to the Old Testa¬ 
 ment, which kept the new spirit still enveloped in the old 
 forms of Judaism; and the independent development among 
 the Gentile churches founded by St. Paul. By the compro¬ 
 mise entered into between the two parties at Jerusalem * a 
 reconciliation was effected, and this was the triumph of the 
 idea of a catholic church, whose unity, grounded on the faith 
 in Jesus as the one Saviour and Lord of all, was to suppress 
 all subordinate differences of Jewish and Hellenic notions. 
 But the more deeply seated opposition could not be overcome 
 and set aside by any reconciliation thus outwardly brought 
 about. It. was soon called forth again by the power with 
 which the Apostle Paul established the principles of a more 
 liberal view of Christianity, and by the success and rapid ex¬ 
 tension of his labours among the Gentiles, which excited the 
 jealousy of the pharisaic party among the Jewish Christians. 
 In opposition to Paul, whom they refused to acknowledge as 
 an apostle, whom they accused of corrupting the doctrines of 
 Christ, arose that party of J ewish Christians,—zealots accord¬ 
 ing to the pharisaic spirit,—which was not until afterwards 
 distinguished by a common name. At the time when this 
 opposition had become most violent St. Paul was removed 
 from the field of his earthly labours. Then came the concili¬ 
 atory labours of the Apostle St.John in Asia Minor, by which 
 many of the points of difficulty were removed ; but still the 
 opposition, in points in which it Bad been most strongly marked, 
 could not be wholly suppressed. 
 
 In the middle of the second century we still find, among 
 the Christians of Jewish descent, the two parties which arose 
 in the apostolic age; as is evident from a passage in Justin 
 Martyr’s dialogue with Trypho.f Two classes are here men- 
 
 raised above the dominion of nature ; their religion is a religion emanci¬ 
 pated from the elements of the world, altogether free, and thenceforth 
 bound to no outward circumstances whatever. 
 
 * See on this subject my Apostol. Zeitalter, Bd. I. S. 169, ff. 
 
 f Ed. Colon, f. 266, to which, in many respects, important passage we 
 shall again have occasion to advert. 
 
474 
 
 JEWISH CHRISTIANS— 
 
 tioned,—those who in their own practice united the observance 
 of the Mosaic law with a faith in Christ, but without exacting 
 the same observance of believing Gentiles, whom they acknow¬ 
 ledged as true Christian brethren and accounted worthy of all 
 brotherly fellowship, notwithstanding that they maintained 
 their original Christian freedom,*—and those who, not con¬ 
 tent with observing the Mosaic law themselves, wished to 
 force the observance of it on all the Gentile converts, and 
 refused to have fellowship with them on any other terms; 
 proceeding herein on the assumption that the believing Gen¬ 
 tiles, like all others, were unclean, and that without keeping 
 the Mosaic law no man could be just before God.f Of the 
 Jewish converts, the former were the genuine apostolical 
 Christians, who remained faithful to the henoticon or compact 
 made at Jerusalem; the latter belonged to that party with 
 whose influence among the churches of the Gentiles the 
 Apostle St. Paul had so often to struggle. 
 
 As the destruction of Jerusalem and the abolition of the 
 temple-worship could not shake the faith of the Jew's at large 
 in the perpetual validity of their religious laws, so neither can 
 it be said that the attachment to the Mosaic law of those who 
 had embraced Christianity was thereby diminished. They 
 regarded these events, no doubt, as a divine punishment sent 
 upon the mass of their nation for their hostility to Christ, and 
 for that w'icked disposition which had caused his death; and 
 many among them were looking for a glorious restoration of 
 the city and of the temple to the faithful among the people. 
 Those, indeed, that w r ere not finally drawn away by their Jewish 
 way of thinking, on which had been grafted a mere superficial 
 faith in Jesus as the Messiah, to relapse altogether into Juda¬ 
 ism,^;—the more genuine among the Jewish Christians who 
 w'ere at Jerusalem at the breaking out of the Roman war,— 
 
 * As Justin reports of them in the passage above referred to \ A toow- 
 mi cv'Cjnv ro7f XoiorictvoTs nai TtaTo7$, fit) ortlSovTt; alrous fit,Tt ortoiTtfivtir- 
 Qoci oujdiu; ccuto 7;, fit) rz ff'a/S/Sar/^s/v, pioriTt a. a a a. otrcc Toiavra. {tti Tr,ot7v. 
 
 f Justin’s words : ’E«v £= oi atro tov ylvov; toZ ifUTt^ou (the race of 
 the Jews) otict tvtiv XtyovT s; tori tovtov tov XputTov, In otoovtos nooTa. tov htco 
 Mwi Tiu} Oia.TooX'hvTu, v'c/xov avayna^uiri Zyiv roll; tSvav oritrTtvovTu; ii fit) 
 noivuvi7v o.uto7; t >); ToiaZrtii (rvvdiayayij} otiouv-cn. 
 
 % A change very easily accounted for, and one which Justin notices in 
 the passage above referred to : Toy; ot/joXoytoreiVTa; ncoi tTiyvovTas tovtov 
 
 uvat tov Xpurrbv net) r,Tiviovv cciTia. /itmfoccvru; tori Tt,v twoftov oroXiTtiavy 
 o.(>vt)7a.fj7ivov; oti ovto; iotiv o Xoutto;. 
 
■.■: ■ .-iiliifil lil vi'lllitll'L ' ' Mi|;, 
 
 APOSTOLICAL AND HERETICAL. 475 
 
 could feel no sympathy with the fanaticism which this war 
 brought along with it; and, remembering the admonitory, warn¬ 
 ing, and threatening words of Christ, could hardly fail to fore¬ 
 see, in the issue of this war, the divine punishment on their 
 perverse nation which He had predicted. It may, perhaps, 
 have been the case that, as the prophetic voice was still occa¬ 
 sionally heard in the Christian assemblies, some pious men 
 were constrained to warn the assembled churches of the ap¬ 
 proaching destruction, and to call upon them to remove from 
 the midst of the doomed people, and to repair to one of the 
 ten cities in Peraea, on the eastern bank of the Jordan, known 
 under the collective name of Decapolis.* At a later period 
 this church is said to have returned to Jerusalem. Until the 
 time of the emperor Hadrian it was wholly composed of 
 Christians of Jewish descent, who were distinguished from 
 the Gentile Christians by their strict observance of the Mosaic 
 law; though we have no reason to infer from this that there 
 existed among them no other differences of religious tendency 
 and opinion. Under Hadrian outward causes led to the sub¬ 
 stitution of another community of an altered shape in place of 
 the original one. That emperor was induced, by the insur¬ 
 rection of the Jews under Barkochba, to exclude them entirely 
 from the city of Jerusalem and its neighbouring territory. 
 This prohibition must have extended to all native Jews, to all 
 who had not, by their whole manner of life, utterly renounced 
 their nationality. This community, therefore, could no longer 
 subsist in this place in its ancient form. In this way in the 
 heathen colony of .ZElia Capitolina, which had been founded 
 on the site of the ancient Jerusalem, a church was formed 
 in which no trace of the observance of the Mosiac law was 
 any longer to be found; in which there met together Chris¬ 
 tians of Gentile descent, and liberal-minded Jews who did not 
 hesitate to put the pagans on an equal footing with themselves 
 in respect to all matters of outward life. This church had for 
 its bishop a Christian of Gentile origin, whose name was 
 
 ' f Eusebius, 1. III. C. 5: Kara- nia. ^na’^oi ro7s avroSi ^oki/ioi; 2/ 
 avoKaXu^t'jii 1 x'&oSlvra.. In Epiphanius (De mensur. et pond. c. 15) the 
 exaggeration of tradition has already converted this prophetie declaration 
 into a revelation delivered by an angel. Without doubt, this whole 
 account springs from some earlier source; perhaps a statement of He- 
 gesippus, We have no sufficient reason for calling in question its 
 truth. 
 
476 
 
 THE EBIONITES. 
 
 Marcus.* But this change had no influence on the other 
 Jewish Christians. Those, therefore, who by a strict observ¬ 
 ance of the law continued to distinguish themselves from the 
 Gentile Christians, and avoided all intercourse with them, 
 would naturally become widely known, as a distinct sect. 
 If the story, already alluded to, concerning the return of the 
 original community from Pella to Jerusalem, is true, or even 
 if the great majority of them did not still remain at Pella, 
 this change in the constitution of the church would naturally 
 lead those who held to the Mosaic law to separate themselves 
 from the mixed community and to repair once more to Pella, 
 where, down to the fifth century, a strictly Jewish-Christian 
 church continued to exist. Now a superficial knowledge or 
 consideration of these facts might easily lead some to place in 
 one class all the Jewish Christians who agreed in observing the 
 Mosaic law, without any regard to the differences subsisting 
 among them. Accordingly, from the time of Irenseus, in 
 whom we first meet with the name, they were designated by 
 the common appellation of Ebionites. 
 
 Now, in the first place, with respect to the origin and the 
 meaning of this term, the opinion certainly must be rejected 
 which makes it a proper name, derived from the founder of the 
 sect. This view first appears in the writings of the uncritical 
 Tertullian, who, ignorant of Hebrew, and consequently of the 
 true signification of the word, took it for a proper name. And 
 because other sects were named after their founders, lie sup¬ 
 posed the same must be the case with this sect also. Epipha- 
 nius, who, it is true, had the advantage of Tertullian in 
 being acquainted with Hebrew, but who was however equally 
 uncritical, adopted this opinion without further inquiry. And 
 yet he himself quotes another derivation of the word, quite in¬ 
 consistent with this hypothesis, taken from its etymological 
 signification, with which he was doubtless acquainted. Since 
 the character of the party designated by this name was so 
 very general, and the party itself embraced in it so many 
 
 * Eusebius, 1. IV. c. 6. See also the remarkable words of Sulpicius 
 Severus, who, after citrng the prohibition of the emperor Hadrian, goes 
 on to say (hist. sacr. 1. II. c. 31), Quod quidem christianse fidei pro- 
 tieiebat, quia turn pame omnes Christum Deum sub legis observatione 
 credebant. Nimirum id, Domino ordinante, dispositum, ut legis scr- 
 vitus a libertate fidei atque eeclesim tolleretur; where this writer has 
 perhaps ascribed too much to the event. 
 

 
 ulff 
 
 THEIR NAME. 477 
 
 different shades of the Judaizing principle which alone they 
 held in common ; since moreover, as appears from our previ¬ 
 ous remarks, the general tendency denoted by this name 
 could hardly fail to pass from Judaism into Christianity in the 
 historical course of its development, the origin of this party 
 from any single individual would seem improbable. We 
 might, indeed, suppose that this name had originally been 
 applied to a distinct sect belonging to this general class, and 
 founded by a man who had some peculiar views of his own ; 
 and that, at some later period, the term received a more 
 extensive application. But we have no warrant whatever for 
 any such, supposition; for the tradition of a founder of the 
 sect of the name of Ebion is not supported by any weighty 
 historical evidence. All better informed authorities, such as 
 Jrenteus and Origen, know nothing ol such a person ; and all 
 that we find anywhere said respecting the pretended Ebion is 
 very vague and indefinite. Origen was the first to give the 
 correct derivation of this name, from the Hebrew word 
 poor. These Jewish Christians, then, were called the poor; 
 but now the question arises, in what sense was this appellation 
 originally applied to them? And with this is connected 
 another—by whom was this name first given them ? Upon 
 the answer to these questions it depends whether the appellation 
 is to be understood as a term of reproach or of praise. Now 
 it appears, it is true, from an explanation which Epiphanius 
 cites from the mouths of the Ebionites themselves,* that in 
 his time they regarded it as an epithet which they had given 
 themselves. But although the Ebionites did accept the name, 
 it might nevertheless be quite consistent with this fact that 
 it was originally bestowed on them by their adversaries, but 
 was afterwards adopted by themselves, either in the same or a 
 different sense. Since what was considered by their opponents 
 a term of reproach might on their own principles be regarded 
 as a title of honour. 
 
 Origen, who, as we have said, first furnished the correct 
 explanation of the word, applies the designation “ poor . to 
 the meagreness of the religious system, the poverty of faith, 
 that characterized this party."j" In this sense Gentile Chris- 
 
 * ITaeres. 30. , , , , , 
 
 + Ol'ig in Matth. T. XVI. c. 12 : T« t(Siavu» n mp, mi 
 
 u; ’i wo 5, <r,w It was hardly (Vigen's intention in this place to give 
 an etymological explanation; he merely alludes, after his usual way, to 
 
478 
 
 THE EBIOXITES. 
 
 tians may have applied the term to them; but then it is net 
 likely that they would have chosen a Hebrew word to express 
 this character. It is far more natural to suppose that the 
 inventors of this name were Jews; and on their-principles it 
 might be used to denote a poor, meagre way of thinking, 
 especially if, according to the ingenious suggestion of a dis¬ 
 tinguished modern inquirer in this province,* we suppose that, 
 in the mouth of those Jews who were expecting a Messiah in 
 visibleglory , it designated such as could believe in a lowly and 
 crucified Messiah, let this explanation even, taken by itself, 
 does not seem the most simple and natural; and, indeed, the 
 author of it himself joins it with another which we shall pre¬ 
 sently mention. W hy should we not understand this word in 
 its literal and obvious sense, as a designation of the poorer 
 class among the people? We know, in fact, that by the hie¬ 
 rarchical party among the Jews this reproach was from the 
 beginning cast upon the Christian faith, because none but 
 those belonging to the ignorant and poorer class had openly 
 professed it (John vii. 49) ; and a similar objection was made 
 to Christianity by the Gentiles.J Thus it may be explained 
 how the Christians among the Jews came to be designated as 
 the poor; and how this name, which by them was employed to 
 designate the Christians generally, would afterwards be used 
 by the Gentile Christians, in ignorance of the true meaning 
 of the term, to designate that portion of believers who were 
 distinguished from the rest by their observance of the Mosaic 
 law. And, what serves to confirm our conjecture, we find 
 that this did actually happen in the case of another name, 
 that of “ Nazarenes,” which was originally a common appel¬ 
 lation for all Christians among the Jews. 
 
 When the extreme form of Ebionism was looked at, such as 
 it may have been exhibited among the great mass of believing 
 Jews, it might, perhaps, be said of it with justice that there 
 was little, as Origen expresses himself, J to distinguish its fol¬ 
 lowers from the common Jews, who adhered strictly to the 
 
 the meaning of the name % Yet (c. Cels. 1. II. c. 1) he says expressly, 
 Evrcowpoi Ttis y-y-rcc rbv ixdoxhv orror^ua; -rou vofiou. 
 
 c P. r ' Cieseler in the Archiv fur alte und neue Kirchengeschichte von 
 Staudlin und Tzsehirner, Bd. IV., 2tes Stuck, S. 307. 
 t See the first section. 
 
 Matth. T. XI. S. 12: Oi fo/futfrixo'i ’1 ou}a7o; xai o'. oXiyu 'hiccftpovn; 
 avruv EfiiuvttToi. ‘ 4 
 
■ ■ . - ' iiliil:: • 
 
 THEIR DOCTRINES. 479 
 
 mere letter of the Old Testament. We see in them the natural 
 descendants of those zealous opponents of the Apostle St. Paul 
 who never ceased to calumniate him as an apostate from the 
 law.* They disseminated false and malicious reports respecting 
 the life of this apostle, in order to account by impure motives 
 for his abandonment of Judaism. Later Ebionites at least 
 scrupled not to assert that he was a proselyte of heathenish 
 descent.| In Christianity they saw at most only the comple¬ 
 tion of Judaism by the addition of a few isolated precepts, in 
 which light, probably, they explained the Sermon on the 
 Mount, which can only be rightly understood in its connection 
 with the whole of Christianity. Their views of the work and 
 of the character of Christ, of the essence of Christianity, and the 
 person of its author, were closely connected with each other. 
 
 In both respects we recognise among Ebionites the con¬ 
 tracted range of the ordinary Jewish point of view. As they 
 could not understand the specific difference between Ju¬ 
 daism and Christianity, so neither could they understand what 
 it was that distinguished the author of Christianity from 
 Moses and the prophets, and from the founders of other reli¬ 
 gions. As they looked upon him, not as the Redeemer of all 
 mankind, by whom every other means of justification and 
 atonement had been abrogated as superfluous,-—not as the 
 author of a new creation of the divine life, but only as the 
 supreme Lawgiver, Teacher, and King,—they did not feel them¬ 
 selves constrained to admit any higher view of Christ’s person. 
 On this account, therefore, they were disqualified to understand 
 his discourses. They firmly maintained the dogma of an irre¬ 
 concilable enmity between the Creator and his material creation, 
 which had been taught by a stern monotheistic system of legal 
 Judaism in opposition to the polytheistic and pantheistic prin¬ 
 ciples of religions of nature. To Jesus they simply transferred 
 the notion of the Messiah which most widely prevailed among 
 the Jews, and which most agreed with this common principle of 
 
 * Origen (Horn. XVIII. in Jerem. s. 12), says, K«i pixi' v “ v ’Ej3 wvaToi 
 
 Tvwouai rov avroirroXov ’itjirou 'K.^itrrov Xoyoi; S virtprif^oi ;. 
 
 f Vid. Epiphan. hares. 30, s. 25. Perhaps in this respect also these 
 Ebionites followed the example of their predecessors, with whom St. 
 Paul had to contend; it is perhaps to some such malicious perversion 
 of facts that the apostle is looking when, in speaking of various events iu 
 his earlier life, he protests to the truth of what he utters, and when he 
 lays so much stress on the fact of his Jewish origin and his education in 
 the schools of the Pharisees. 
 
180 
 
 THE EBIONITES. 
 
 the Jewish system,—that he was a man distinguished above all 
 others for legal piety,—who for this very reason had been deemed 
 worthy to be chosen the Messiah, — who of his special call to 
 the Messiahship knew no more than others, who were fir from 
 divining it in his case, until Elias reappeared and revealed to 
 him and to others his election, when he was filled with divine 
 power for the Messianic office, by means of which he was enabled 
 to work miracles.* What was generally believed of the Elias, 
 these Ebionites transferred to John the Baptist. When Jesus 
 came with others to John to be baptized by him, then, and not 
 before, occurred the miraculous phenomenon by which his 
 election to the Messiahship was revealed, and at the same time 
 the divine power which he required for the fulfilment of his 
 mission descended on him. A marked distinction was thus 
 drawn between two portions of the life of Jesus,—before and 
 after his consecration to the Messiahship. In the first they 
 acknowledged nothing but the mere human nature, to the 
 entire exclusion of everything supernatural; while the sudden 
 accruing of the supernatural and the sensuously objective 
 element was prominently insisted on in the events which took 
 place at the very beginning of the second portion. The fact of 
 Christ’s supernatural birth was especially irreconcilable with 
 this view of the matter; and indeed this fact was directly at 
 variance with the Jewish principle generally, presenting to 
 their minds a certain heathenish aspect of the same class with 
 the myths concerning the sons of the gods.f Even in the well- 
 known passage of the seventh chapter of Isaiah the Ebionites 
 could not see the announcement of the birth from a virgin.J 
 
 * The Jew Trypho, in Justin,—Dial. c. Tryph. f. 291, ed. Colon.—ex¬ 
 presses this common Jewish point of view, where he requires of the 
 Christians to prove, concerning Jesus, "On abro; imv o Xpitrrbs, ha ro 
 
 iyvopia; x.a] rzXiiu; •zoXinuztrSa: abroi xarti^iarB-ai rod \x.Xzyrnia.i (If X^irroy. 
 
 Respecting the appearnce of Elias, whereby the Messiah was first to be 
 made known as such to himself and to others, see f. 268, compared 
 with 336. 
 
 f See what the Jew Tryphon (in Justin M. f. 291) says against this 
 doctrine : Mi? rzparokoyav rokpian, ovu; /jo'/irt opioiu; roll "EXXna'i pcuaxlvur 
 ikiy%na$i. 
 
 1 The position assumed by the Ebionites led to a dispute about the 
 interpretation of this and several other prophetic passages. Where men 
 were usually satisfied by allegorical interpretation, the Ebionites, as fol¬ 
 lowing the Jewish doctrines, may, by entering more deeply into the 
 meaning of words, into the connection, and the historical allusions, have 
 sought to show how many things which were referred by Christian 
 
THEIR SUBDIVISIONS. 
 
 481 
 
 In the Ebionitic revision of the gospel history, which was 
 based upon one of the principal gospels referable to the 
 Apostle St. Matthew, the appearance at Christ’s baptism is 
 represented as an altogether outward, sensible event, con¬ 
 nected with the descent of the Holy Ghost upon Christ; and 
 this appearance is interpreted as having for its design to lead 
 Christ himself to the consciousness of his Messianic vocation, 
 no less than to reveal this fact to the Baptist. This pheno¬ 
 menon is decked out with miraculous events; light shone 
 over the place, fire burst forth from the Jordan.In the 
 estimation of the Ebionites Jerusalem was still to be the city 
 of God, the central seat of the Theocracy.! They lived in 
 expectation of Christ’s speedy return to restore this city of 
 God, and to reestablish the Theocracy there in surpassing 
 splendour. A.11 the Jewish notions respecting the Messiah’s 
 millennial reign they transferred to this event. J 
 
 We have remarked already that among the Ebionites, if we 
 consider this name as the general one for Judaizing Christians, 
 there must have existed many different shades in the com¬ 
 bination of the Jewish with the Christian point of view, lre- 
 n£Eus indeed knew nothing of them ; but Origen, who was more 
 accustomed to trace points of resemblance and difference, and 
 had, moreover, been long resident in Palestine, distinguishes 
 two classes of Ebionites, one denying the supernatural birth 
 of Jesus, and another admitting it. § When we duly consider 
 how obstinately the ordinary Jewish ideas must have struggled 
 against the acknowledgment of such a fact, we must conclude 
 
 teachers to the history of Christ had been already accomplished in the 
 facts and appearances of earlier history. We may hence explain, per¬ 
 haps, what Irenaons objects to them (lib. I. c. 26), Qued autem sunt pro- 
 phetica, cunosius (<r*j/t gyorigw;') exponere nituntur. 
 
 See the fragment of the gospel of the Hebrews, in Epiphan. Ilseres. 
 30, s. 13, and Justin, Dial. c. Tryph, f. 315, ed. Colon. 
 
 f Ilierosolymam adorant, quasi domus sit Dei. Iren. 1. I. c. 26, s. 2. 
 
 X See, m the Jewish-Christian work, the Testament of the twelve 
 patriarchs (Testament IV. of Judah, s. 23), the return of the scattered 
 Jews from their captivity ; and in Testament VII. of Dan. s. 5 : “Jeru¬ 
 salem shall then suffer desolation no more, and Israel no more be carried 
 into captivity; for the Lord shall dwell in the midst of Jerusalem, and 
 walk with men.” 
 
 § Ch'ig- c. Cels. 1. V. c. 61, where he employs the name Ebionites to 
 designate, generally^ all Jewish Christians observing the Mosaic law: 
 
 Oi Efiiuvctioij vyroi be oravSivou bftoXoyovvri;, o/xo'icus riyjv, rov ’lwrovv, 
 
 vi ovrru yiyivvviaQuj, U.X/. ut$ robs Xoiorobs av^peborous, 
 
 VOL. I. 2 I 
 
482 
 
 THE NAZA.RENES. 
 
 that connected with this deviation from the general sentiments 
 of the Jews were also other differences ; that those who could 
 bring themselves to admit the fact above mentioned must have 
 beei:Tsomewhat deeply imbued with the spirit of the new cre¬ 
 ation. It seems implied by it that they did not, like the 
 others, separate the divine from the human nature in Christ, 
 merely acknowledging in him a suddenly commencing opera¬ 
 tion of the Holy Spirit, but that they assumed a certain 
 cooperation of the divine and human elements, whereby he 
 differed in kind from all other prophets,—a certain original 
 actuation of the divine Spirit, under whose influences the 
 human nature in him, as it took its being, so it continued to 
 develop itself. As they were less fettered on this point by 
 the Jewish spirit, so they may also have been more free in 
 their judgments as to the continued obligation of the Mosaic 
 law, and willing, consequently, to make a distinction between 
 the position of the native Jews and tliat of believers from 
 among the Gentiles. We may recognise in them the Jewish 
 Christians, followers of apostolical principles, whom Justin 
 Martyr describes as a class still subsisting in Ins days. To 
 the same class belonged, probably, the people about whom 
 Jerome took pains to obtain more accurate information during 
 his residence in those countries towards the close of the fourth 
 century. They then dwelt at Beroea, in Syria,* and passed 
 by the name of Nazarenes. This name, like that of the 
 Ebionites, was originally perhaps a common appellation 
 among the Jews for all Christians, as a sect springing from 
 Nazareth, and still more common than the former, to judge 
 from Acts xxiv. 5, and from the fact that in still later times 
 all Christians were condemned under this name in the Jewish 
 synagogues, f 
 
 These Nazarenes were distinguished by their decided oppo¬ 
 sition to the Pharisees. They spoke against the maxims of the 
 scribes and Pharisees, who had caused the people to err by their 
 traditions, and had hindered them from believing in Jesus.ij: 
 In explaining Isaiah viii. 23 (ix. 1. Eng. ver.) they taught that 
 by the preaching of Christ in Galilee the Jews had been first 
 delivered from the errors of the scribes and Pharisees, and 
 
 * Vid. Hieronym. de viris illustrib. c. 3. 
 
 f Ejusd. commentar. in Isai. 1. II. c. 5 to 5, 18. 
 
 £ Vid. Hieronym. commentar. in Isai. 1. IX. c. 29, v. 18, ed. \ allarsi, 
 T. IV . p. 398. 
 
THE NAZAItENES. 
 
 4S3 
 
 fiom the burthensome yoke of the Jewish traditions; and they 
 interpreted chapter ix. 1 (ix. 2) as referring to the preachin 
 of the gospel by the Apostle St. Paul to all GentileSn" 
 
 • f ^ P . earS ’ therefor .e, that, differing entirely from those Ebion- 
 ites who were hostile to this apostle, they acknowledged his 
 cal! to be an apostle to the Gentiles, and consequently were 
 not disposed to force the latter to observe the Mosaic law 
 
 FbGn>’ “Ji ^ri — find that Jerome distinguishes from 'the 
 omtes the Ebiomtarum socii, who considered all this to be 
 permanently binding only on those of Jewish descent.! They 
 mourned over them unbelieving nation, and earnestly lon-ed 
 foi the time when these also should turn and believe m t 
 Lo,-,! arid l„s apostle. Then they would put aside all thelr 
 idols, which had led them into the devious ways of sin. Then 
 e'.eiy obstacle to God’s kingdom which Satan had set up 
 ould be removed, not by human might, but by the power of 
 God, and all who had hitherto been guiding themselves in 
 their own wisdom would become converted to the Lord. This 
 they believed was promised in Isaiah xxxi. 7, 8 t 
 
 I he view of Christ which we have been led to suppose pre- 
 vai ed among those who, according to Origen, made the second 
 
 we should perhaps be Wanted to ascribe 
 also to these Nazarenes. For that they did not make the 
 
 ration toT^M" t0 firSt ° f a11 with his inaugu¬ 
 
 ration to the Messiahship seems evident from the fact that th* 
 
 recension of the Hebrew gospel, which Jerome receAelllrom 
 
 X anc > translated int0 Latin, did not, like the gospel of the 
 
 Messiah 1 j nau guration of Christ as the 
 
 les.ian, by John the Baptist, but also contained the first 
 
 chapters, which treat of the birth of Christ.§ He is described 
 of ITtI the ° ne t0 T ds whom the Progressive development 
 and^ m oHnTh tend r the be S‘ n ™g-as the"™ 
 
 and aim of all the earlier divine revelations. In him the 
 oly Spirit, from whom, before this time, only isolated reve- 
 
 f g e c J ®™ m c e ’ S iremarks on those passages, 1. c. p. 130, ed. Vallarsi. 
 
 of iiSi^in^he the edition 
 
 ii., § at tLTgTnHng- wh^rehy^ “ St . Matthew, chapter 
 
 wortt^ 1 ,^r b .7 e 3 "'° rd8 '’ M ' h he «« gospel S 
 
 2 i 2 
 
 hO*. 
 
484 
 
 TUE XAZARF.NES. 
 
 lations and exhortations had proceeded, first found an abiding 
 place of rest, a permanent abode. Inasmuch as the Holy 
 Spirit was the productive principle of his entire nature, and 
 it was from Him that the operation of the Spirit must first, 
 proceed in order to shape the entire life of humanity and to 
 form other organs of action, he is called the hirst-born of the 
 Holy Spirit—as the Holy Spirit is also denominated Ins 
 Mother.* Where this gospel describes how the whole foun¬ 
 tain of the Holy Spirit descended on Christ at his baptism and 
 abode permanently with him. the following words of saluta¬ 
 tion are ascribed to the former :—“ My Son, in all the pro¬ 
 phets I expected thee, that thou shouldest come, and I might 
 find in thee a place of rest; for thou art my resting-place, 
 thou art my first-born Son, who reignest for ever, t As¬ 
 suredly in this whole passage we perceive a profound Chris¬ 
 tian consciousness rising above the limited views °f the 
 common Ebionitism. And the appellation given to the I o y 
 Spirit, of Mother of Christ, may perhaps in some way stand 
 connected with the idea of his supernatural generation. 
 
 It appears, from what has been said, that although an ex¬ 
 treme Ebionism excluded all speculations concerning t ie 
 divine nature in Christ, yet still, where it assumed a milder 
 and more liberal form, as it did in the instance just described, 
 such speculations might also be united with it. Again, w e 
 must not forget,—what we have already considered more at 
 length in the general Introduction,—that at this period Juda¬ 
 ism had been broken up into manifold and even conflicting 
 elements, and that some of these had become blended with 
 
 * See the passages cited by Jerome, in Micham, 1. II. c. 7, T. VI. p. 
 520 • and by Origen, T. II. Joh. s. 6, in which Christ says,, A Z r, 
 
 Lii ipr.rw pov, to aym vnvpx, tv pip ^ **1 asrmyjst ps u; 
 
 rro oso; to' asya 0aj3 up ; where it may be a question whether the thought 
 is merely expressed in a poetic form, that Christ repaired thither by the 
 impulse of the Holy Spirit, which animated him in all things, or 
 whether a supernatural conveyance is meant. That the passage is to be 
 understood in the former way, and not literally, appears probable when 
 we compare it with the similar figurative modes of expression in an 
 oriental writer. In Taberistanensis annales regum atque legatorum 
 Dei Voi. II. Pars I. Gryph. 1835, page 103 , it is said by those whom 
 God had converted from being enemies of Mahomet into zealous advo¬ 
 cates of his cause (in Kosegarten’s Latin translation from the Arabic 
 original), “ Denique Deus cordibus cincinmsque nostris prehensis, per 
 eum in viam rectam ita nos direxit, ut eum sequeremur. 
 
 -j- Vid. Hieronym. in Isai. 1. IV. c. 11. T. IV. p. 156. 
 
RELATIONS OF EBIONITISJI. 
 
 485 
 
 many tendencies foreign to their original principles. Such, 
 then, might easily be attracted by Christianity also, and 
 might seek to adopt it in their own May. If at first phari- 
 saical views were mixed with their apprehension of Chris¬ 
 tianity, they were afterwards followed by others more nearly 
 related to Essenism, or to the Alexandrian system. As soon 
 as the Apostle St. Paul had been removed from his sphere of 
 labour, in which his commanding influence opposed an invin¬ 
 cible bulwark to all corruptions of Christian truth, such 
 impure mixtures of doctrine were formed first of all in Asia 
 Minor, for the earliest example we find of it is in the church 
 of Colosse, in Phrygia. Similar phenomena are also to be 
 recognised in much which Epiphanius comprises under the 
 general name of Ebionism,—phenomena which are wholly 
 distinct from the Ebionism that sprang out of the common 
 Pharisaic elements, and the origin of which would assuredly 
 carry us back to an earlier period than that in which Epipha¬ 
 nius wrote. Among the Ebionites described by Epiphanius 
 there were those who started from that common Ebionitic 
 view of Jesus as a man who was raised to the dignity of 
 Messiah on account of his legal piety; but then, whilst 
 others affirmed that the whole power of the Holy Spirit 
 descended on him at his consecration to the Messiahship by 
 the baptism of John, they substituted, in place of the Holy 
 Spirit, the highest of the Spirits created by God, a spirit 
 exalted above all the angels,*—and the latter was then con¬ 
 sidered the true revealer of God, the Messiah in the highest 
 sense. By means of such a separation of the divine and 
 human natures in Christ, the Ebionitic element might pass 
 into the Gnostic. Others placed in connection with Chris¬ 
 tianity that idea which exhibits itself to us under so many 
 different forms, taking sometimes an Oriental, sometimes an 
 Hellenic stamp,—the idea of a heavenly man, the Adam 
 Ivadmon, the primal man. The Spirit, which is the pure efflux 
 of the divine Spirit, which, having first appeared in Adam, 
 returned afterwards, under manifold shapes, to reveal God to 
 
 . S , a ^ S Epiphanius : 0 u Quirxmjtnv U 3-toiT <rarpo; cciirov ysyitrurBai, 
 
 ccWu Una-Scci i'v« tb» a^ayyi^uv, /jaI&vcc li ccbruv JWa, ccvtov 21 
 icyy'iXuv xa) rrdvruv bv'o rov vravrox£U.Tcat>; Kni, a sv«v. So 
 
 Philo describes the Logos as an d^ayyO.o;. Comp, the Jewish 
 apocryphal work, ’Wiip ^omux >J ; r^aroyovos vavro; lao-j luo-juAvav bvo 
 
 •710U. 
 
486 
 
 RELATIONS OF EBIONITISM. 
 
 his fallen children, reappeared in Christ to deliver the last 
 revelation to humanity. 
 
 We have no warrant for supposing, in all the various ten¬ 
 dencies which have been designated by the common name of 
 Ebionitism, the same degree of adherence to the law of Moses. 
 There had, in truth, as we saw in the example of the Saddu- 
 cees, been evolved among the Jews themselves, out of opposi¬ 
 tion to the traditional element of Pharisaism, parties whose aim 
 was to distinguish the original religion of Moses from the later 
 additions to it. This distinction, however, might assume ditferent 
 forms, according to the different mental tendencies it proceeded 
 from. An entirely different character from that which it took 
 among the Sadducees must it have assumed where it started from 
 a mystico-ascetic bias, which, foreign to the original Hebraism, 
 had, under the influence of Oriental ideas, formed itself out of 
 that which was the essential element of Judaism as distinct 
 both from Pharisaism and Sadduceeism. Out of this there 
 had sprung up the conception of a spiritual, primitive religion, 
 which, at some later period, had been corrupted by foreign 
 elements ; and among these corruptions was reckoned whatever 
 was at variance with this mystico-ascetic tendency. One sect 
 among the Ebionites, as we learn from Epiphanius,* forbade 
 the eating of flesh as well as the offering of animals, and 
 declared the entire sacrificial worship to be alien from primitive 
 Judaism, and a corruption. Christianity, contemplated from 
 this point of view, must have been considered as a restoration 
 of the original Judaism. From this sect proceeds a book 
 under the name of Jacob, hva(3a 0/rot Tavw/3ou, Steps of Jacob 
 (probably intended to denote the steps of initiation with 
 reference to the true Gnosis), in which Jacob is introduced 
 speaking against sacrifices and the worship of the temple. 
 With this ascetical tendency was connected the total renun¬ 
 ciation of earthly possessions — complete poverty ■— as an 
 essential part of religious perfection; whether, even before 
 the appearance of Christianity, such a tendency had sprung 
 up among the Jews out of opposition to the worldly spirit in 
 Judaism (just as the societies of spiritual paupers, the aposto- 
 
 * Whether, as Epiphanius alleges, a person, otherwise unknown, by 
 the name of Elxai, exercised great influence in bringing about this modifi¬ 
 cation of Ebionitism, we must leave undetermined. In the formation of 
 a religious tendency of this kind, very little depends, in any case, on the 
 personality of an individual. 
 

 RELATIONS OF EBIONITISM. 
 
 lici, the pauperes cle Lugduno, sprang up, during the middle 
 ages, out of a similar opposition), or whether this tendency 
 was first called forth by a partial and imperfect apprehension 
 of the Christian principle.* In a manner altogether foreign 
 to the original Hebrew, the Jewish spirit nevertheless mani¬ 
 fested itself by its outward conception of the opposition 
 betwixt the kingdom of the Messiah and the kingdom of 
 Satan, as if the two were outwardly divided in the world, and 
 the •present earthly world belonged wholly to Satan, whilst 
 the future had been committed to Christ. Those, therefore, 
 who wished to share the future kingdom of the Messiah must 
 look upon all the goods of this world as alien from them, and 
 renounce every earthly possession. The members of this sect 
 were glad to call themselves Ebionites, as the poor in spirit; 
 and they derived this hereditary name from the circumstance 
 that their fathers, who formed the first church at Jerusalem, 
 renounced all rights of private property, and lived in an uncon¬ 
 ditional community of goods.f The question whether this 
 explanation of the term be the correct one depends on another,—• 
 whether the name, having been employed originally to designate 
 only a smaller portion of the Ebionites, afterwards obtained a 
 more general application, or whether, the extensive signifi¬ 
 cation already noticed being the earlier one, this interpretation 
 of it was first introduced by the peculiar modification of the 
 Ebionitic spirit above described. 
 
 But amidst this ascetical tendency, however, we discern a 
 reaction of the original Hebraism in the fact that this sect 
 combated an undue estimate of the merit of celibacy; recom¬ 
 mending, on the contrary, early marriage, as was customary 
 among the Jews, as a preservative against unchastity. This 
 party must therefore have been opposed to those ascetical 
 tendencies in the Christian church which were in favour of a 
 life of celibacy4 
 
 The peculiar Ebionitic tendency here described § appeal’s in 
 
 * See above, page 382. 
 
 f This laudatory sense of the epithet is referred to also in the 
 
 ■words of Testamentum VII. in the Testaments of the twelve patriarchs 
 (c. 5), where it is said, respecting the form of government in the per¬ 
 fected kingdom of the Messiah, “Ayios ’I a^tx.7\X ficttrtXzu&jv esr 1 uurou$ lv 
 
 —." ' ‘ " “ * ' • tt r u % 11 a. 
 
 <7CC f 7rilVUffit x CL l i v 
 
 | So we may remark a similar opposition, proceeding from the same 
 spiritual bent, among the Zabians, or the so-called disciples of John. 
 
 § Epiphanius speaks of these Ebionites as a party still existing in his 
 
488 
 
 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 a very remarkable apocryphal book called the Clementines, or 
 the Eighteen Homilies,* in which, as it is pretended, Clement, 
 descended from a noble family in Rome and afterwards bishop 
 of the church in that city, gives an account of his conversion 
 and of the discourses and disputes of the Apostle Peter, t It 
 is difficult, indeed, to separate here what belongs to the general 
 views of that particular sect of the Ebionites which we last 
 described, from what must be reckoned the peculiarities of the 
 author, as they developed themselves amid the conflicting 
 opinions of the second century. At all events it is easy to 
 see how a reference to these conflicting opinions might call 
 forth a religious tendency and a work of this kind. While 
 the Jews, the Judaising and the Gentile Christians, were 
 standing in stern opposition to each other, and when Judaism, 
 attacked in various ways by the Gnostics, was exhibited in the 
 most unfavourable light, the thought might naturally occur to 
 some individual of this particular class of Ebionites to com¬ 
 pose a work that might help to reconcile these opposite views. 
 Accordingly, the work itself, of an apologetic and conciliatory 
 tendency, forms a noticeable phenomenon in the ferment of 
 that chaotic period, to which Christianity had communicated 
 a new breath of life, which set everything in motion, and in 
 which the most heterogeneous elements might be found blended 
 together, so that what was really profound was mixed with 
 what was altogether fantastic. The fundamental idea of the 
 apologetic and conciliatory aims of this work is the idea of a 
 simple and original religion, proceeding from divine revelation, 
 as the common foundation both of Judaism and Christianity. 
 The supranaturalist element of Judaism is here insisted on 
 with peculiar stress. From the contemplation of so many 
 
 own time. It is certain that he had derived the information he gives us 
 concerning them partly from personal intercourse with the sect, and 
 partly from other works of theirs besides the Clementines. The Cle¬ 
 mentines presuppose the existence of such a sect,—not that the writer of 
 that work should be regarded as the author of such a system. 
 
 * O LuXtat, 
 
 f I cannot omit to call the attention of the theological public to a 
 work which we are soon to expect from one of the most distinguished of 
 our young theologians, the candidate Adolph Schliemann of Rostock, on 
 the origin, end, the peculiar religious views, and the composition of this 
 remarkable book, which will also embrace a complete critical examina¬ 
 tion of all that has been hitherto advanced on a subject which of late has 
 been so much discussed. 
 
THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 4S9 
 
 minds restlessly searching for truth and tortured with doubt,* 
 and of so many conflicting systems of philosophy, the author 
 is convinced of the necessity of a divine revelation; without 
 which man is certain of nothing but the most general prin¬ 
 ciples of morality, such as the conviction that, as no one is 
 willing to suffer wrong, so no one should do wrong.j- Who¬ 
 ever seeks the truth evinces, by this very fact, that he is in 
 need of some higher source from which to derive the knowledge 
 of it. He is in want of a criterion by which to distinguish 
 the trutli; lie holds that to be true which flatters his inclina¬ 
 tions. Hence so many opposite systems. “ He only who 
 needs not to seek for the truth — he who lias no doubts — he 
 who learns the truth by means of a higher spirit dwelling 
 within him, which is superior to all uncertainty and doubt — 
 can reveal it to others.” Thus the author arrives at the con¬ 
 ception of the true prophet, from whose revelations all religious 
 truth is to be derived, j “ Looking away from all others, men 
 must confide in the prophet of truth alone, whom all, however 
 ignorant they may be, can know as a prophet. God, who 
 provides for the necessities of all, has made it easy for all, 
 among Greeks or barbarians, to recognise him as such.” 
 u 1 he first prophet was Adam, in whom, if in any one, formed 
 as he was immediately by the creative hand of God, that 
 which is the immediate efflux of the Divine Spirit dwelt.” 
 The doctrine of the fall of the first man is one which the author 
 of the Clementines felt constrained to combat.§ as blasphemy 
 against God.|| “On the man created after his own image 
 God, the alone good, bestowed everything. Full of the divinity 
 of his Creator, and, as a true prophet, knowing all things, he 
 revealed to his children an eternal law, which can neither be 
 destroyed by wars, nor corrupted by godless power, nor hidden 
 in any particular place, but may be read of all men.”^[ In 
 
 * See Vol. I. p. 8. 
 
 t Ho™, lb c - 6 : ’A ktiSilu; xgariTv ou St/var o; 'iffrai, tAtiv rroXi-rua; 
 
 fjjovr,;, kcu rn-v-u. ncsivtj; <rSjj ro iLAoyov yvuignrUrivat 'hwiu.fikv/i;, ririf Uwr<» 
 Zk rov /jj'h QsAz/v a.'&iKito-Quiy tov f/,7) Snv a AAov ctbiy.uv rkv yvucriv TrupG'rriCiv. 
 
 J Horn. II. c. 9. § Horn. III. c. 20 and 42. 
 
 _ II We should be better able to judge of the connection between this 
 view and earlier Jewish doctrines, if a Jewish work were made known, 
 from which Eisenmeuger has cited (Theil. I. Kap. S, s. 33G), QlX n-13T 
 
 the purity, innocence of Adam, in which also it was asserted that Adam 
 never sinned. 
 
 Horn. V III. c. 10: N cp.ov aim ten vprtv, oAoi; (perhaps we should 
 
490 
 
 TEE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 reference to tins general revelation of God, it was consistent 
 in the author of the Clementines to assert “ that the appear¬ 
 ance neither of Jesus nor of Moses would have been necessary 
 if men had been willing of themselves to know what is right ” 
 (what, i. e., they must do in order to obtain God’s favour—for 
 everything depends on works).* “ But since this original 
 revelation, which had to be transmitted orally from generation 
 to generation, was continually corrupted by the admixture of 
 impure elements proceeding from an evil principle ” (a notion 
 which, in this treatise, is closely connected with its pervading 
 doctrine of the antagonism of the good and the evil principle in 
 the whole world), “ new revelations were requisite to counter¬ 
 act these corruptions, and to restore the matter of that original 
 revelation ; and it was always that primal Spirit of humanity, 
 the Spirit of God in Adam, which, in manifold forms and 
 under various names, reappeared,f—a mode of view falling in 
 with the eclectic bent of this particular period, but from the 
 oldest time perpetually recurring in the East, which regarded 
 all religions as different forms of the manifestation of one 
 divine principle or of one fundamental truth. Thus Moses 
 constitutes one of these forms of manifestation, and the reli¬ 
 gious law proceeding from him is one of the new revelations 
 which were to promote the restoration of primitive truth. 
 The author of the Clementines belonged to that party of the 
 Jews who exalted the Pentateuch above all the other books of 
 the Old Testament. The Pentateuch alone passed with him 
 as a book coming from divine revelation ; yet he was far from 
 acknowledging it as such in its whole extent. We see in him 
 the first impugner of the genuineness of the Pentateuch ; 
 being in this, as in many other respects, a forerunner of far 
 later phenomena: as also he availed himself of many of the 
 arguments which, independently of him, were again brought 
 
 read o\u;\ fjonTt It o TOxiu.orj iiAoronirStitai $utu/j,itot, u.r'c vto o.mfioii; 
 Tito; vTotoSivo/joitot, fjJ,Ti £v< totu aor0Kixt>vfj.ft.itot, aWa orajn a.taytua^rita.1 
 
 lvttt/z;tot. It was doubtless the author’s design to oppose this original, 
 universal, eternal law, springing from the revelation of God's Spirit in 
 the first 'man, to the Mosaic law recorded in the letter of scripture, 
 which, as he endeavours in this work to show, must be liable to all those 
 defects from which that higher law would be exempt. 
 
 * Hom. VIII. C. 5 ; O^te yooo at Moj urn.®;, ovn ty; tov I'/i&ou ora^ovma; 
 v*s/« r,v, urtZP a<p’ ictvreuv ro zvXoyov vnuv zfoovXov-ro. 
 
 Horn. III. C. 20 : °Oz (tre ccgfctiS ccl&vos, cI(JjC 6 roi$ o'jOfjjC&Giv 
 
 AWoiefWf, rov aluva roix u 
 
THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 491 
 
 forward by later disputers of the genuineness of this work. 
 He maintained, for instance, that the Mosaic doctrine, which 
 depended on oral tradition tor its transmission, had been many 
 times rewritten; and that, before the Pentateuch reached its 
 latest form, various foreign elements, conflicting with the 
 truth revealed by Moses, had been introduced by the influence 
 of the principle which ever seeks to corrupt the divine reve¬ 
 lation. Thus it was easy for the author to explain away as 
 an interpolation whatever contradicted his own ascetical prin¬ 
 ciples, as well as all that the opponents of Judaism among the 
 Gentiles and the Gnostics objected to it. In those cases where 
 the Jewish theologians of the Alexandrian school s?ot rid of a 
 difficulty by insisting that the letter was the mere envelope of 
 an idea allegorically represented, the author of the Clementines 
 would entirely remove the stone of stumbling by an exer¬ 
 cise of criticism. To this he was driven by his principles, 
 which were opposed to all allegorising shifts. He required of 
 the prophet that he should express everything clearly, without 
 ambiguity, simply and comprehensively. Such, it appeared 
 to him, was the character of the discourses of Christ,* though, 
 in other respects, he indulges himself in extremely forced and 
 tortuous interpretations to favour his own peculiar opinions. 
 
 The author of the Clementines required of the prophet that 
 he should announce the truth in calmness of spirit, and in 
 simple, clear, and unambiguous language. With this requisi¬ 
 tion agreed the notion he had formed of inspiration, and of the 
 prophet’s mental state. He rejected the platonic notion of an 
 iydovaiaa/j.6g corresponding to jiavia —of an ecstatic state of the 
 prophet, sucli as occurs in the Jewish theology of the Alexan¬ 
 drian school, and as lies at bottom of the legend respecting the 
 origin of the Alexandrian version. In the true prophet he 
 acknowledged no such state of ecstacy, in which, borne along 
 by the might of a higher spirit animating him, the prophet 
 announced things greater than he could himself understand. 
 Such a state, he thinks, does not agree with the idea of the 
 divine Spirit,—for this is a Spirit of peace and of order,-—but 
 it corresponded rather to the character of the demoniacal 
 spirit, who is a spirit of confusion. States like those which 
 might occur in pagan divination, and at the oracles, ought not 
 to be transferred to the true prophet. If a prophet is impelled, 
 sometimes by this and at other times by that spirit, and 
 * Ilom. III. C. 2 G : ’Ttiru TT^otprinisi, ffudri \iyu. 
 
 M 
 

 492 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 announces at one time what the divine Spirit, and at another 
 what his own spirit suggests, then there is need of a criterion 
 by which to separate, in his discourse, the true from the false. 
 In that case the prophet, who appeared for the restoration of 
 the true religion, and from whom men were to learn to dis¬ 
 tinguish the genuine from the spurious in the earlier records 
 of religion, would himself make the recurrence of such a 
 separation again necessary. The author of the Clementines 
 had a true perception of the fact that nothing analogous to the 
 ecstasy is to be observed in the case of Christ; that the whole 
 style in which he expresses himself testifies to a calm conscious¬ 
 ness, always clear as to its own meaning, always self-possessed. 
 But as it was the peculiar bent of many, in this period, to look 
 everywhere alike for fulness and completion, to allow of no 
 gradual transitions and intermediate steps, so the author of 
 the Clementines requires, in all manifestations of prophecy, 
 what belongs only to this complete conception of the prophe¬ 
 tical office, as fulfilled in Christ. All else he sets down as false 
 prophecy. The true prophet must be ever one with himself; 
 like Christ, he must have with him the divine Spirit at all 
 times alike.* Now, as he could not apply this notion of pro¬ 
 phecy to the prophets of the Old Testament; as he found in 
 them much that was obscure, much asserted of the Messiah 
 and his kingdom which, literally understood,—as everything 
 announced by divine revelation should be understood,—did not 
 agree with the appearance and conduct of Jesus as the Messiah; 
 all this was to his mind a mark of a spurious prophetic spirit, 
 desisrnino: to deceive. And so the Jews did. in fact, suffer 
 themselves to be led astray by this ambiguous or false matter 
 in the prophets, when they were looking for a worldly Messiah f 
 with a terrestrial kingdom ; when they expected in the Messiah 
 the son of David, not the Son of God,| and therefore did not 
 acknowledge Jesus as such. 
 
 We can well suppose that, when men of the peculiar spiritual 
 bent which characterized the Essenes adopted the ; dea of the 
 Messiah, they would on this side also present a contrast to the 
 common Pharisaic conception of it, and would shape the idea 
 in accordance with their own mystical and ascetical views. 
 
 * Horn. VIII. c. 11 and 12. t L. c. c. 22 and 23. 
 
 x Thus in Horn. XVIII. c. 13, the passage Matth. xi. 27, is explained 
 as spoken in opposition to the Jews, who in the Messiah saw the son of 
 David, and not the son of God. 
 

 THE CLEMENTINES. 493 
 
 Such a peculiar shaping of it forms the groundwork of the 
 Clementines. That Ebionitic idea of spiritual poverty, of 
 which we have spoken above ; that striving after emancipation 
 from the world so opposed to the worldliness of the religious 
 sentiments of the great body of the Jews, of which Ebionitic 
 spirit we perceive the traces in the Clementines, would natu¬ 
 rally lead to a corresponding view of the Messiah and of his 
 kingdom. Opposition to the secular and political element in 
 the Jewish notion of the Messiah, and to the Chiliastic views, 
 would necessarily spring out of it. And this we find to be 
 the case with the Clementines. Now, as the author was unable 
 to understand, in the successive steps of revelation, the histori¬ 
 cal organization in obedience to the law of constant progress— 
 as he was incapable of comprehending the gradual expansion 
 of the idea, unfolding itself, under the inspiration of God’s 
 Holy Spirit, out of its temporal envelope—he therefore sees 
 in everything that borders on a secular idea of the Messiah, 
 and on which the false expectation of the Jews had fastened 
 itself, the pseudo-prophetic element.* 
 
 Erom these two opposite forms of Ebionism, which may be 
 succinctly denominated the Pharisaic and the Essenian,f there 
 would arise two opposite ways of contemplating the gospel 
 history. While one sought to get rid of all gleams and 
 glimpses of the supernatural in the history of Christ’s child¬ 
 hood, and whatever favoured the recognition of a higher nature 
 and dignity in Him, the other endeavoured to expunge every¬ 
 thing which represented him as the son of David,—the David 
 in fulness and perfection of earthly glory4 While the great 
 mass of the carnal-minded Jews were unwilling to acknowledge 
 Jesus as the Messiah, because they did not find realized in him 
 every feature of the Messiah’s image as presented by the 
 
 * Horn. III. c. 22, 23, &c., where the contrast between true and false 
 prophets is seized with reference to this point. 
 
 f In employing this term, however, I would not be understood as 
 maintaining that this particular shape of Ebionism proceeded directly 
 from the Essenes; I merely regard Essenism as being only one parti¬ 
 cular manifestation of a religious bent of mind which extended still 
 farther. See p. 59. 
 
 X The author of the Clementines probably belonged to that class of 
 the Ebionites who acknowledged the supernatural birth of Christ; for in 
 opposing those who acknowledged the prophets of the Old Testament, 
 but did not reckon Adam as a prophet, he says (Horn. III. c. 20J, “If 
 one cannot discern the holy spirit of the Messiah in the man produced 
 immediately by God’s creative hand (<rf Ini Kl 
 
 i 
 
494 
 
 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 prophets ; while Christian teachers, without distinguishing 
 from their Christian one the peculiar positions which the 
 prophets severally held in the development of the Theocracy, 
 contrived by elaborately allegorizing to introduce the full 
 development of Christianity into the prophets ; while the 
 opponents of Judaism among the Gnostics laid hold of the 
 difference between the appearance of Christ and the idea of the 
 Messiah contained in the letter of the prophetic writings in 
 order to prove an absolute opposition betwixt Judaism and 
 Christianity — the author of the Clementines opposed to all 
 another view of the idea of inspiration and of the prophetic 
 gift, by which, while the divine character of the Mosaic 
 religion was upheld, the writings of the prophets were re¬ 
 presented as not belonging to its progressive completion, but 
 as something wholly alien from it. He perhaps had adopted 
 a view existing among the Jews which exalted Moses far 
 above the prophets, and which made the prophetic writings, to 
 say the least, to be greatly inferior to the Pentateuch.* 
 
 This view of the corruption of the original truth in the 
 records of revelation, by the admixture of foreign elements, 
 stands connected with a remarkable idea of the process of 
 development in religious faith, and of the law observed in the 
 divine revelations to man. That admixture was designed, for 
 instance, for the special purpose of trying the godlike temper 
 of man. The consciousness of the divine love of God ought 
 to be so strong in the truly pious as to be able to reject at once 
 
 dvSocj', rai), •x'u; iriou nv'i he [wcraocc; /rrayovo; yiyivnf/.i\icp S/Sat; £ X £tv > e£> 
 piyHrrx da-ifi'.T?” It seems implied here that in the last form of mani¬ 
 festation of the Adam-spirit there must have been something analogous 
 to the immediate exercise of God’s creative power, as contradistinguished 
 from ordinary birth, ix. /xuiraoa; nTu-yotoi (the way in which the false 
 prophets came into existence). It is true, the question arises in such a 
 case, how he represented to himself the birth of others, whom he re¬ 
 garded no less as forms of manifestation of th#primal spirit. 
 
 * Epiphanius speaks of an Ebionite party who received the Pentateuch 
 alone as the divine book of the Old Testament (though they did not 
 admit the authority even of this in its whole extent), and who acknow¬ 
 ledged Christ alone as a true prophet, and represented the prophets of 
 the Old Testament as prophets endowed merely with human insight, 
 trvvinaj; Too'prirasi xett oux Haeres. 30, c. 15 et 18. A similar 
 
 depreciation of the prophets, springing out of some such Ebionitic prin¬ 
 ciple, we find described by Methodius, who wrote in the beginning of 
 the fourth century : ’£- Ibices xivritrsco; rob; crgO(p-/)T*j XsXaXjjxivai. In 
 Combefis. bibliothecae graecor. patr. auctarium novissimum, Pars I. f. 
 113. Paris, 1672. 
 

 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 495 
 
 as spurious all those declarations at variance with it which had 
 become incorporated in the records of religion. The criterion 
 accordingly must lie in the disposition ; everything must 
 depend on cherishing the disposition in which genuine faith 
 had once become rooted.* “ The Holy Scriptures do not lead 
 men into error, they only cause the hidden disposition of every 
 one to manifest itself. Thus each man finds in the Holy 
 Scriptures such a God as he would have Him to be.” f In 
 another recension of this work, the Recognitions of Clement, 
 which are known to us only in the version of Rufinus, this idea 
 is also applied to God’s mode of revealing himself in the works 
 of nature and in the entire life of humanity ; “ that which leads 
 to faith in a divine providence being everywhere accompanied 
 by something which suggests a doubt.”+ It is interesting to 
 observe how the author of the Clementines was led by his pecu¬ 
 liar cosmological and theological system to express, for the first 
 time, that great and fruitful idea which from a very different 
 point of view the profound Pascal has so beautifully unfolded 
 in his apologetic “ Thoughts;”—the idea in which the various 
 difficulties in the way of religious faith first meet their solution, 
 and which points to the true connection between believing 
 piety and liberal science. 
 
 Strongly as the conception of outward revelation and the 
 authority of a true prophet is insisted on in the Clementines, no 
 less careful, as our previous remarks prove, is the author of this 
 work against giving a one-sided outwardness to the supra- 
 naturalist principle. The universal revelation which pro¬ 
 ceeded from Adam is—as we see—at the same time, an inward 
 one in the conscience. Every new revelation, by which the 
 earlier one is to be restored to its original purity, is adapted to 
 the inward susceptibility, the inner consciousness of God and 
 of truth. I he good man dares to believe nothing, on whatever 
 authority it may come, that stands in contradiction with God 
 (the general idea of God) and with God’s creation. The 
 
 * As to the end which the introduction of those false declarations 
 Ti^x.o',ruv) was to subserve, the Homilies say, T ovro 
 
 yiyovtv Xoyw xai xpttn/, ottms tX£y^3-ajcrjv f rmj ToXpxiajpiv <rcc xccru tov 
 ypaiQivra cptXnzoaj; t/vs? ts tr^o^yri rri vrgos aurov <ra xar avrou 
 
 Xtyopnvcc y.rt ptovov utfitrruv, aXXa puriSi T'Av apyriv uxovuv diiyitrQca. Hom 
 
 II. e. 38- * 
 
 t Hom. XVI. c. 10. 
 
 t Nihil omnino est, quod fidem providential faciat, et non habeat e 
 contrario aliud ad mfidelitatein paratum. Recognition. 1. VIII. c. 53. 
 
496 
 
 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 Godly nature is the medium where the inner revelation of God 
 comes to pass. In the truth implanted by God in the depths 
 of the human mind all other truth is contained ; the revela¬ 
 tion of the Divine Spirit does but awaken the consciousness to 
 it.* This revelation of God from within is something higher 
 and more trustworthy than any revelation by visions and 
 dreams, which must always remain external to the man, and 
 presupposes in him an estrangement from God, that He must 
 stand to him in so outward a relation.t 
 
 According to the doctrine of this work, then, the first 
 Father of the human race was by love of his children, dis¬ 
 persed throughout the world, moved to appear once more on 
 the earth in the person of Jesus, for the purpose of purifying 
 the original religion from the additions which had distorted 
 it. This end of his appearing is indicated by himself, when 
 he says, Matth. v. 17, “ Think not I am come to destroy the 
 law,J but to fulfil.” What he has destroyed, then, cannot 
 possibly belong to that which he calls the law, the primary 
 religion.§ But especially he appeared for the purpose of 
 extending his blessings to his other children, the Gentiles, by 
 communicating to them also that pure, primitive religion 
 which had been constantly handed down by a consecrated few 
 among the Jewish people. || The doctrine of Christ, therefore, 
 is perfectly identical with the pure and original doctrine of 
 Moses. The Jewish mystic, the Essenian, or any one else 
 of that class, who embraced Christianity, had not to adopt a 
 new doctrine. The doctrine of Christ was for him but a con¬ 
 firmation of his earlier religious theory ; he only rejoiced to 
 see that secret doctrine now made the common property of all 
 mankind—a thing which before had seemed to him impossible. 
 In Jesus he witnessed a new manifestation of that Adam 
 whom he had constantly reverenced as the source of all that is 
 true and godlike in humanity. “ The Father alone could so 
 love his own children as Jesus loved men. What grieved him 
 most was that in their ignorance those fought against him 
 
 * ’Ey rri h la S'.ou tsSs.V'/j aori^arixu; ordra lyttrrm fi dXriSua, 
 
 5s ^«.lmrai y - tt ‘ aoroxaXwrnrai. 
 
 f Horn. XVII. s. 18 : T a. rr,; ooyr,; S/’ opapdruy xa) itvrrvluy, to. SI rr^o; 
 (pi'Xov arofj.a Kara arouM. 
 
 + The words rob; orootpr.ra; ” are arbitrarily omitted by the author 
 because he did not recognise the prophets. § Horn. III. s. 51. 
 
 || T a arr aluyo; sv x-^uorru ira/>aoiSo/xzva xr,outr<rwv. 
 
THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 497 
 
 for whom as his children lie was fighting; and yet he loved 
 them that hated him, yet. he wept over the disobedient, yet 
 he blessed them that blasphemed him, yet he prayed for his 
 enemies; and these things he not only did himself,' as a father, 
 but also taught his disciples to do the same to all men as their 
 brethren.”* 
 
 Hence, then, the inference, “ that the same primal religion 
 is to be found in the pure doctrine of Moses, and in Chris¬ 
 tianity : lie who has the one may do very well without the 
 other, provided only that the Jew does not blaspheme Christ , 
 whom he knows not. nor the Christian , Moses, whom he 
 knows not. But he who has been counted worthy of knowing 
 botii, and of seeing in the doctrines announced by both but 
 one and the same truth, is to be esteemed as a man rich in 
 God—one who has found in the old that which has become 
 new, and in the new that which is old—an allusion, doubt¬ 
 less, to the passage in Mattli. xiii. 52.f The Jew and the 
 Christian owe it entirely to the grace of God that they have 
 been led by these revelations of the primal man—repeated 
 under different forms, one in Moses, another in Christ—to 
 the knowledge of the Divine will. And having obtained this 
 without any labour of their own, it now depends on them¬ 
 selves to carry out in their conduct all that is prescribed by 
 Moses or by Christ. It is in this way, too, they entitle them¬ 
 selves to a reward.” 
 
 . ^ now, after this exposition of his system, we must recog¬ 
 nise in the author of the Clementines the representative of 
 some Jewish doctrine, peculiarly modified by a way of think¬ 
 ing closely allied to Bssenism, in which the work of Christ is 
 not prominently set forth as the main point, but He is con¬ 
 sidered simply in the light of a teacher and lawgiver—the 
 revealer of the truth which had been previously taught and 
 transmitted as a secret doctrine—we shall discern the relation, 
 01 rather opposition in which he must have stood to the teachings 
 of the Apostle St. Paul. I he Jewish principle, apprehended 
 in this exclusive and one-sided manner, was wont to assume a 
 peculiar hostility to this apostle; we may therefore expect to 
 find the same hostile relation in the present case. It is true 
 
 * Horn. III. s. 19. 
 
 f Iloni. VIII. S. 7 nxiv % <r/j xa,'ra,%iaj$ii 9 i 
 
 uicc; 'btbx.tnta.Xias uvr* ccvtcov KZX'/iouy[/,ivv);, ouro$ 
 ff7ira,/, -ra rz vzcc X,% ovt y XCCi y.ccrja, 
 
 YOU I. 
 
 tods dp(po<ri(>ovs iTTiyvtovxi, oj; 
 
 CCVV)() SV Qito 'TrXoVO-10 j Hex. r 7 r /](3l3'~ 
 
 ‘PTaXcacc ViVO'/iKCOS. 
 
 2 K 
 
498 
 
 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 St. Paul is nowhere mentioned by name ; but the author may 
 have had his reasons for preferring' to attack the principles 
 of the apostle, without introducing his name. And this is 
 the course actually taken in the pseudo-epistle of Peter to 
 James, prefixed to the Clementines ;* where, by the unnamed 
 enemy who had falsified the doctrine preached by St. 1 etti 
 in harmony with the Mosaic law, no other person than 
 St. Paul can be meant.f If the author of die Clementines 
 wished to carry out the idea of his work consistently, he could 
 not allow that anything was to be seen in the present but the 
 germ of the future; and was therefore obliged to represent 
 those tendencies of Ids own time, which he really meant to 
 combat, though he did not speak ot them by name, as having 
 been previously attacked in their principle by the Apostle 
 St. Peter. Accordingly, while he assails several of the ten¬ 
 dencies, such as Gnosticism, perhaps also Montanism, which 
 first began to expand themselves in the second century, h 
 transfers them all to the contemporary of the Apostle St. 
 Peter, Simon Magus, who in the opinion of the first centuries 
 was very generally regarded as the representative and fore¬ 
 runner of all the heretical tendencies of later times. As with 
 this author St. Peter is the representative of the pure doctrine 
 of revelation, so in his view everything met together in the 
 person of Simon Magus to complete an image of all erroneous 
 tendencies, so blended together that the relations of the indi¬ 
 vidual phenomena of later times cannot be distinguished with 
 certainty. In the mind of the author, the Pauline doctrine 
 of the relation of the gospel to the law belonged, without 
 
 * This work did not perhaps proceed from the same author as the 
 Clementines We might infer this from the fact that it differs Lorn the 
 Clementines in the view it takes of the Old Testament prophets, inas¬ 
 much as their divine authority is presupposed ; only the necessity of a 
 key to the right understanding of them is argued from the ambiguity ot 
 
 their language. , „ , , , . , 
 
 f It is evident that St. Peter is here made to allude to what is related 
 in the epistle of St. Paul to the Galatians when he says, “ 1 see already 
 the beginning of the evil; for some of the Gentiles have rejected the 
 doctrines taught by me, which are in harmony with the law having 
 adopted an anti-legal and fabulous doctrine from the man who is my 
 enemy (mu iySpov «.&°uVou UtofMt t/v« x.ct) QXvccpuln vrpoirr.Kap.Mi oidatr- 
 kuXUv). Nay, some have attempted, even during my lifetime, to wrest 
 mv words, by various false interpretations, to the subversion of the law, 
 as'if I also were really, though I did not openly express it, of the same 
 opinion.” 
 

 THE CLEMENTINES. 
 
 499 
 
 And the remark is, in all 
 
 doubt, to the number of these. ... 
 
 probability, aimed against the apostle, when St. Peter says to 
 Simon Magus, “ Why should Christ have remained with his 
 disciples and instructed them a whole year,* if it were possible 
 for one to be made a teacher at once by a vision ? If, how¬ 
 
 ever 
 
 thou hast been made an apostle after having been 
 
 III* 
 
 structed by him in a brief and momentary manifestation, then 
 preach his words, love his apostles, and fight not against me, 
 who have lived in his society.”! There appears also to be 
 some allusion to that reaction of the Judaizing Christianity 
 against the Pauline type of doctrine, which took place at the 
 close of the age of St. Paul, when St. Peter is made to lay it 
 down as a law that, as the appearance of falsehood must uni¬ 
 formly precede the revelation of truth (Simon Magus having 
 preceded St. Peter), so the false gospel must first be spread 
 by a teacher of error (St. Paul), and then, after the destruc¬ 
 tion of the temple, tor the correction of subsequent heresies 
 the true gospel must be secretly disseminated (in accordance 
 with that taste for mystery which characterised a tendency so 
 closely allied to Essenisrn) ;J and so likewise, at the end of all, 
 die Antichrist would precede the appearance of Christ. 
 
 When the Christian church had once firmly established 
 
 * A supposition of which we find many traces even in writers of the 
 first century, and which might have easily originated in the unchronolo- 
 gical exhibition ot the gospel history, as we find it in those evangelists 
 who followed a synoptical method of arrangement. Had the author 
 known, however, from the gospel of St. John that the ministry of Christ 
 lasted several years, he would assuredly, as he had special good reason 
 for doing have put several years instead of one. It is probable, there- 
 foie, that he made no use ol John’s gospel. Yet there are in the Cle¬ 
 mentines declarations of Christ which bear a close resemblance to the 
 pecuhai type of his discourses which are given in this gospel, and which 
 so nearly resemble the particular sayings of Christ, which are nowhere 
 to be met with but in this gospel, that we are struck with a general idea 
 of their identity. We must, then, suppose either that these sayings 
 came to the author s knowledge through some other collection or narra¬ 
 tive drawn from St. John's gospel, or that he found in his lUyylx.o, *«$' 
 EH<,cuo U; some such words of Christ taken from tradition, and which John 
 Jias communicated in the original connection in which they were spoken. 
 
 ie atter appears the true state of the case, when we compare the form 
 ot these sayings, as they occur in the Clementines, with the form in which 
 wc tmd them m the gospel according to St. John. 
 
 t Horn. XVII. s. 19. 
 
 I 1L C - 17 : USsIv liayylXiov M <r\*wr,vi s , 
 
 W ZpS' ^' Ta ™ sUyyi^y 
 
 2 K 2 
 
500 
 
 RELATIONS OF PAGAN CHRISTIANS TO JEWISH. 
 
 itself among the Gentiles, it must no doubt have proved 
 difficult for"that rigid Ebionism which maintained the per¬ 
 petual obligation of the Mosaic law, to make proselytes from 
 that body. " And yet, from the words of Justin Martyr which 
 have been already given, it would seem that such attempts 
 still continued to be made in his time, and not always without 
 success. For he speaks of Gentile Christians, who had been 
 induced to unite the observance of the Mosaic law with a 
 
 belief in Christianity.* . 
 
 As, then, it would appear from our exposition of Ebionism 
 that there were various grades of difference amongst those who 
 were inclined to this way of thinking, so there were also 
 such grades in the relation of the Gentile Christians to the 
 Ebiomtes; from a mild moderation down to the most uncom¬ 
 promising opposition. In these diversities we meet once more 
 with those various shades which had already begun to appear 
 in the apostolic age. On both sides error could find room 
 to grow up. A desire to reconcile the differences between 
 Jewish and Gentile Christians might be seduced into yielding 
 too much to the influence of the Jewish spirit; the more le- 
 pulsive tendency might be carried away by ultra-Paulinism 
 to break loose from all conformity with the other apostolical 
 types of doctrine, and so might by degrees sink into Gnos¬ 
 ticism. The more rigid of the Gentile Christians, who by no 
 means followed the genuine principles of St. 1 aid, we find 
 in those of whom Justin says that they pronounced the like 
 
 - Justin’s words are (1. c. f. 2G6), Tabs 
 
 ‘ivifOU.il oroXtrslav U.ITO. <rov QvXafftmv rr,v ti; 
 
 Se ‘TTzlSo/UviVOV? CLVTOl $ IVTl T'/JV 
 
 ■Yi't w rov rov Biou ou,o\oyiu.v 
 
 zz', In the view of the matter which we 
 
 have given in the text, we take it for granted that the author is here 
 speaking, not of .Tews, but of Gentiles. On the other hand Deacon C. 
 Semisch, in his Monograph on Justin Martyr ^Theil II. S. 236, Anm. 1), 
 a work distinguished for profound, extensive, and candid mquiiy, under¬ 
 stands the author as alluding in this case to Jews. But since, in the 
 precedin' 7 ' passage, those Jewish Christians were spoken of who were for 
 constraining the Gentiles to observe the Mosaic law I do not see how 
 we can suppose that Jews are again meant by • those who followed 
 them, and passed over to the observance of the law The latter must 
 necessarily be a different class from the former, and therefore Gentile 
 Christians only can be meant. It is evident, moreover, that Justin does 
 not express himself with the same mildness in speaking of the latter as 
 of the former; for with regard to one class he simply testifies his dis¬ 
 approbation, but of the others he says doubtfully, “ he believes they 
 would perhaps be saved.” 
 
JUSTIN MARTYR. 
 
 501 
 
 sentence of condemnation on all who still observed the Mosaic 
 law, even though they did not wish to obtrude it on the 
 Gentile Christians ; maintaining that they could not be saved, 
 and renounced all Christian fellowship, and indeed all inter¬ 
 course, with them.* The milder tendency among the Gentile 
 Christians, on the other hand, is presented to us in Justin 
 Martyr himself. He is ready to extend the right hand of 
 fellowship to those Jewish Christians who, although thev 
 observed the Mosaic law themselves, had no wish to oblige 
 the Gentiles to do the same. He could show indulgence *to 
 the weakness of a subordinate position,f such as could not 
 fail to arise in the compromise between Judaism and Gen- 
 tilism, and was able to distinguish an inferior and still 
 defective stage of Christian knowledge from the heretical 
 element. But even on those Jewish Christians who, while 
 they maintained the absolute obligation of the Mosaic law, 
 yet united with it faith in Christ, he pronounced no sentence 
 of condemnation, excluding them from salvation; he was con¬ 
 tent simply to declare that he could not agree with them. 
 And, what is still more, he does not venture to exclude from 
 the hope of salvation even the Gentile Christians who had 
 allowed themselves to be drawn away, by the deceptive repre¬ 
 sentations of Judaizing proselyte-makers, to adopt the Mosaic 
 law; of these, though less excusable than those of Jewish 
 origin, he says, they may perhaps be saved by their faith in 
 Jesus as their Saviour. He invariably abides by the principle 
 of the apostolic church, that faith in Jesus as the Messiah is 
 the sole ground of salvation j and this faith lie recognises even 
 in the midst of the most defective Christian knowledge. So 
 mildly did he judge of those who were still entangled°in that 
 error, although he must have known that they were far 
 removed, not only in their views of the Mosaic law, but also 
 in their opinion of the person of Christ, from what he saw 
 was the Christian truth. He speaks expressly, also, of those 
 who looked upon Christ merely as a man born of men,! and, 
 
 * MjjSs zoiv&iv'Tv ofiiXict; r, itrr'tas ro 7 s rtnovrai: 'roX/j.HjvTis. 
 
 f At a. rov urSivls rH; as he expresses it. 
 
 I Ed. Colon, f. 267. Those whom he has particularly in view here 
 are, without doubt, the Ebionites, although other Christians of similar 
 views may also be meant, if the reading of the manuscript is correct: 
 
 T ml; cltto rou v/ttri^ou yivov;.” Yet, when we consider that the phrase 
 “ ” is a designation of the Jews, and that just before it was 
 
502 
 
 JUSTIN MARTYR 
 
 without adding any harsher word, he simply says he does not 
 agree with them,* because he held only to the doctrine of 
 Christ and of the prophets. He was under the necessity of 
 speaking with more severity of the Gnostics, since these, as 
 will hereafter be shown, falsified the fundamental doctrine of 
 Christ, as historically portrayed. 
 
 This mild tone in judging of the Ebionites by no means 
 warrants us in supposing that Justin himself was inclined to 
 their way of thinking-t The very way in which he expresses 
 himself with regard to the Judaizing Christians, as parties 
 with whom he had no sympathy, is sufficient evidence to the 
 contrary, as well as the Pauline element so strongly noticeable 
 in his theolouy. t Indeed, how could that man be inclined to 
 Ebionism, who could assert that more genuine Christians had 
 sprung from the midst of the Gentiles than from the midst of 
 the Jews §—who gave it to be understood that the true and 
 complete understanding of Christianity must first proceed from 
 the Gentiles? 
 
 Such mildness in judging the different forms of the develop¬ 
 ment of Christianity did not, indeed, long continue. It is 
 only among the Alexandrian church-teachers that traces of 
 such mildness again appear ; and indeed this phenomenon was 
 closely connected with their whole mental tendency, which we 
 shall hereafter describe. Thus Origen || again recognises in 
 these Ebionites weaker brethren, whom, however, Christ did 
 
 observed that the doctrine of a preexisting divine nature in the Messiah 
 was one peculiarly foreign to those of their race , viz. the Jewish, we 
 mio-ht be led to conjecture that Justin had expressed himself thus: 
 “ Hence there are many of your race (of Jewish descent) who do indeed 
 acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah, but hold him to be a mere man.” 
 YVe do not venture, however, to pronounce the reading “ u to be 
 
 the one necessarily required by the context. 
 
 * O/V cuvr '&ifiat- _ . . „ 
 
 f As is maintained by many in modern times. Tor the history ot 
 this opinion, and also a thorough refutation of it, consult the above-cited 
 work of Semisch (Th. II. p- 233). 
 
 t That he never quotes St. Paul by name can be no evidence to the 
 contrary: still we are not inclined, with Semisch, to account for this 
 silence on the ground that the Dialogue cum Try phone was expressly 
 written with reference to the Jews. We also find elements in the same 
 work derived from the Apostle St. John, although he is nowhere 
 named; and in general, with the exception of the scriptures of the Old 
 Testament, no sacred writing is cited by name except the Acts ot the 
 
 Apostles. 
 
 § See above, p. S7. 
 
 11 Matth. T. XVI. c. 12. 
 
CORRUPTIONS OF EBIONISM. 
 
 503 
 
 not reject; for even to them he was the Messiah, from whom 
 ;ilone they expected help, although in him they acknowledged 
 only the Son of David and not the Son of God. In his beau¬ 
 tiful allegorical exposition of the story of Bartimeus (Mark x. 
 46) he makes the blind man who calls upon Jesus to be the 
 Ebionite, and the many who bid him to be silent the believers 
 from among the Gentiles, who for the most part have higher 
 views of the person of Jesus. “ But,” he continues, although 
 the many bid him be silent, he cries still the more, because he 
 believes in Jesus, although he believes on him rather after the 
 human manner,* saying, Son of David, have mercy on me.” f 
 From Ebionism, however, we must distinguish J certain 
 elements, which, possessing some affinity with Ebionism, in¬ 
 volve nevertheless a grossly material view of Christianity, 
 since, adhering to the sensuous envelope of the letter, they 
 failed to penetrate its spirit. Such, for example, was that ma¬ 
 terialist element of the religious spirit, in affinity with the 
 Jewish point of view, which betrayed itself, in the anthropo-mor- 
 phism and anthropo-pathism of the doctrine concerning God¬ 
 in the low, worldly views of the kingdom to be founded by Christ 
 on earth which are to be found in Chiliasm. A tendency of this 
 kind might easily form itself even in Gentilism, since in the 
 sensuous element of the general enlightenment of the day it 
 found much to w hich it could attach itself; and such would, of 
 itself, stand forth as the first stage of evolution, until the influ¬ 
 ence of Christianity, like the leaven, had more fully penetrated 
 the whole way of thinking. Although it is among the Jewish 
 Christians that we hud the first traces of an intermixture of the 
 theocratic principles of the Old and New Testaments, and the 
 consequent transference of the Old Testament priesthood into 
 the Christian church, § yet it by no means follows that this 
 corruption of the great Christian principle of which we have 
 
 YUjrri'jajv fjjiy ;Tt Ton ’J'/jtrauv, ivSguTiKurtgov St VitTTi'JOJO. 
 
 t °C' V£; itiym li.va.orii vivumUamo a.urov U VapBlvov ytytvtjrBui. 
 t ins theory, m the germ, is to be found in Clement of Alexandria: 
 0/ u,iv voXXo) uli ±a&Z s Ximrov [u iXtyoo, ixlyoi Ss vlov iyiyvaaxov rov 9mZ. 
 Strom. 1. VI. f. 680. 
 
 X 1 lie neglect of this distinction, and the too indiscriminate applica¬ 
 tion of the term Ebionism, have, in recent times, given occasion to 
 many arbitrary historical combinations and hypotheses. 
 
 § On this ground we find asserted already (in Testament. IV. of 
 Judas, c. 21) Hildebrands principle of the subordination of the king- 
 , C ° m l ,° t I ie , P rl e_Sthood : vtripxu ov^avos t? s yZi, ovtu; UTTipiyu 9iau 
 
 ■ ioama rr,s iVi yrti painXiius. 
 
504 
 
 CONTACT OF EASTERN AND WESTERN MIND. 
 
 already spoken in the history' of the constitution of the church, 
 is in every case to be traced ultimately to such a souice. 
 For the Roman church is an instance ot the contrary: here, 
 though the development of the Christian life originally pro¬ 
 ceeded from a Pauline, Gen tile-Christian principle," yet 
 afterwards, through an outward and formal notion of the 
 church finding a point of attachment in the political element 
 of the Roman spirit, room was made for the reaction of the 
 Jewish element that had been vanquished by r St. Paul. 
 
 This new intermixture of Jewish and Christian principles 
 contributed to call forth the reaction of the opposite mental 
 tendency, which, in its gTeat features, has been already de¬ 
 scribed in the Introduction—we mean the Gnostic tendency— 
 which ultimately would lead to a total separation of Christi¬ 
 anity even from its organic connection with Judaism. But 
 Gnosticism is but one link of a great series of phenomena, 
 such as occur in the history of the world only' at raie and dis¬ 
 tant intervals, and which, in this period, originated in the vast 
 interchange of ideas between distant nations which this age wit¬ 
 nessed in the contact of the Fast with the 44 est, and the con¬ 
 sequent intermingling of the oriental and the occidental mind. 
 
 In this series of facts we see how Christianity announces itself 
 to the East and to the West as a new power in the history of 
 the world ; how oriental and occidental minds are attracted by 
 it; and how, under the influence of Christianity, peculiar com¬ 
 binations of both are formed—a proof of the mighty influence 
 with which it begins to operate on the mental life of Eastern 
 and Western nations. A transient, though stupendous phe¬ 
 nomenon indeed, but a token of the enduring influence which 
 Christianity was to produce in the more distant times of futu¬ 
 rity. This series of phenomena we propose more distinctly 
 to consider in our next volume. 
 
 * See the evidence in favour of this origin of the Roman church in 
 my Apostol. Zeitalter, Bd. I. S. 384 ff. We shall return to the subject 
 once more in another connection. 
 
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