CHAPTER VII. THE GODS OF THE NATIONS WHEN CHRIST APPEARED.

The Formation of Christendom

Volume II

By

Thomas William Allies

London:

Longmans, Green, Reader, and Dyer.

1869

CONTENTS

Preface.

Chapter VII. The Gods Of The Nations When Christ Appeared.

Chapter VIII. The First And The Second Man.

Chapter IX. The Second Man Verified In History.

Chapter X. The First Age Of The Martyr Church.

Chapter XI. The Second Age Of The Martyr Church.

Chapter XII. The Third Age Of The Martyr Church.

Chapter XIII. The Christian Church And The Greek Philosophy. Part I.

Chapter XIV. The Christian Church And The Greek Philosophy. Part II.

Index.

Footnotes

PREFACE.

In the six chapters forming the first volume of this work I was engaged in

describing the operation of Christianity, as it took the individual human

soul for its unit, purified it, and wrought in it a supernatural life. I

began with the consummation of the old world in its state of the highest

civilisation united with the utmost moral degeneracy; I proceeded thence

to the new creation of individual man; compared heathen with Christian man

in the persons of Cicero and St. Augustine; drew out certain effects upon

the world around of Christian life, as seen in those professing it, and

viewed Christian marriage as restoring the primary relation between man

and woman, and thus remaking the basis of human society, while the

Virginal Life exhibited the crown and efflorescence of the most

distinctive Christian grace in the soul.

I had thus, beginning with the stones of which the building is formed,

reached the building itself; and the next thing was to consider the

Christian Church in its historical development as the Kingdom of Truth and

Grace: for while the soul of man is the unit with which it works, the word

“Christendom” betokens a society founded in Christ, made by Christ,

stamped with the image of Christ. It is the first great epoch of such a

Kingdom of Truth and Grace, proceeding from the Person of its Founder,

which I here attempt to delineate.

But not merely is the volume which I now publish a part only of a

projected design; even as a part it is incomplete. It was my wish to

finish this portion of my subject in one volume, which should reach to the

great Nicene Council. But the treatment of the Greek Philosophy was too

large for my limits, and so the last two chapters serve but as an

introduction to the actual contact of that Philosophy with the Christian

Church, which remains to be considered before I can complete my view of

the Formation of Christendom in the ante-Nicene period.

CHAPTER VII. THE GODS OF THE NATIONS WHEN CHRIST APPEARED.

“Emmanuel, Rex et Legifer noster, Expectatio gentium, et Salvator

earum, veni ad salvandum nos, Domine Deus noster.”

Under the sceptre of the imperial unity were brought together a hundred

different lands occupied by as many different races. That rule of Rome

which had grown for many centuries with out, as it seemed, any presiding

thought, by the casual accretions of conquest, may be said to assume under

the hands of Augustus, about the year of Rome 750, certain definite and

deliberately chosen limits, and to be governed by a fixed Idea, more and

more developed in the imperial policy. The limits which the most fortunate

of Roman emperors, nay the creator of the empire itself, put to it, were

the Rhine and Danube, with the Euxine Sea, on the north; the deserts of

Africa on the south; the Euphrates on the east; the ocean on the west. The

Idea, which may indeed have been conceived by Julius, but was certainly

first embodied by Augustus, was to change the constitution of a conquering

city, ruled by an aristocratic senate, into a commonwealth governed by one

man, the representative of the whole people; and the effect of this

change, an effect no doubt unforeseen, at least in its extent, by its

framer, was gradually to absorb the manifold races inhabiting these vast

regions into the majesty of the Roman law, order, and citizenship. The

three centuries which follow Augustus are occupied in working out the

drama of this unity. During this time the provinces appear to come out

more and more as parts of one whole. Some which at its commencement had

only just entered the circle of Roman power and thought, as Gaul, become

entirely interpenetrated with the law, language, customs, and civilisation

of the sovereign city. Spain was nearly as much, and northern Africa

perhaps even more Latinised: in all, local inequalities, and the

dissimilarity arising from conflicting races, customs, and languages, are

more and more softened down, though never entirely removed; and while

throughout this period the great city continues the head, yet the body

assumes an ever-increasing importance, until at length its members engage

the equal solicitude of that central potentate to whom all equally belong.

In the times of so-called Roman liberty, the plunder of lands which

received pro-consuls for their annual rulers, served to replenish the

fortunes of nobles exhausted by the corruption requisite to gain high

office; but if the dominion of one at Rome seemed an evil exchange to a

nobility which deemed itself born to enjoy a conquered world, at least it

served as a protection to those many millions for whom the equality of law

and order, the fair administration of justice, and the undisturbed

possession of property, constituted the chief goods of life. Cicero and

his peers might grieve over the extinction of what they termed liberty,

but Gaul, Spain, Africa, and Asia exulted in deliverance from the

oppression of a Verres, a Fonteius, a Gabinius, a Piso, or a Clodius, in

the communication of citizenship, and in the peace of a common

civilisation.

I. With a passing glance at the progress of this unity, which, great and

magnificent as it is, is yet external, let us turn to an object filling

the whole of this vast empire with its varied manifestations: for this

object leads us to the consideration of another unity, wholly internal,

without which that of government, law, and order must be apparent rather

than real, or at best, however seemingly imposing, be deprived of the

greater part of its efficacy.

1. It has been said that the empire contained in it many lands and many

races, but these likewise worshipped their own distinct gods, which were

acknowledged and sanctioned as national divinities for the several

countries wherein they were locally established. Had Augustus ordered an

enrolment not only of the numbers, the landed property, and the wealth of

his subjects, but of their gods, his public register, or Breviarium, would

have included at least ten distinct systems of idolatrous worship. First

of all, there would be the proper gods of Rome, then those of the Hellenic

race; and these, though the most similar to each other, yet refused a

complete amalgamation. But besides these there were on the west the

Etrurian, the Iberian, the Gallic, and the Germanic gods; on the east, the

Carian and Phrygian, the Syrian, the Assyrian, the Arabian; on the south,

the Phœnician, Libyan, and Egyptian. All these different races, inasmuch

as they were subjects of the empire, enjoyed undisturbed the right of

worshipping their ancestral gods,(1) who, so long as they did not overstep

their local boundaries, were recognised; they possessed priests, rites,

temples, estates, and self-government; they held the soil, and their

worship was legal. It was a matter of Roman policy not to interfere with

them. Nay, their several worshippers could carry their rites along with

them in their various sojourns and settlements, and even in Rome build

altars, and adore Egyptian, Asiatic, African, or Gallic gods. These

various systems agreed all in one point, that they were systems of

polytheistic idolatry: they all divided the attributes of the godhead,

assigning them to more or fewer objects, and worshipping all these by

visible symbols which the power worshipped was deemed to inhabit:(2) but

they did not make the same division with a mere difference of name; on the

contrary, they ran into and across each other with the most bewildering

multiplicity, variation, and contradiction. Even in the same system, if we

may give this name to any of the various mythologies, the several

divinities were perpetually interfering with each other’s province. When

the Roman made vows for the removal of his ailments, in his uncertainty to

which god the ailment belonged, or who was most proper to remove it, he

addressed his vow to several together; or in public supplications, being

often uncertain to whom exactly the prayer or offering should be made, he

cautiously expressed himself, “whether it be a god or a goddess.” And the

various Hellenic, Asiatic, or Egyptian cities often possessed local gods,

whose worship was supreme there, while they exercised far less influence,

or were even scarcely known elsewhere.(3)

Now merely as a specimen of what this worship was all over the Roman

empire, let us take the brilliant Athens, Greece’s eye, the world’s

university. First of all ruled in her the worship of Pallas-Athené: she

was the lady of the land, who had won it for her own after a hard contest

with Poseidon. Her chief sanctuaries were the temple of Athené, guardian

of the city, with its old statue fallen down from heaven on the Acropolis.

On the Acropolis likewise the Parthenon, built expressly for the gorgeous

Panathenaic festival; and in the lower city the Palladium with the statue

of the goddess supposed to have been brought from Troy. Yet the worship of

the “high goddesses,” Demeter and Persephoné, was also richly endowed with

shrines and festivals, and affected scarcely less the feelings of the

Athenians. Then Jupiter, as “supreme,” was honoured with unbloody offering

before the Erechtheium, dedicated to Athené: whilst as “Olympian” he had

the colossal temple begun by Peisistratus and finished after many hundred

years by Hadrian, and as “guardian of the city” distinct festivals. Yet

more manifold was the invocation of Apollo, as the Pythian, the Delphic,

the Lycian, as the ancestral god of the Ionians. The multiform Artemis had

her temples and worshippers as the Tauric, by the name Brauronia; as the

port-goddess, by the name Munychia; as the goddess of the hunt, by the

name Agrotera, who had the credit of the victory won at Marathon; as

presiding over birth, she was called Chitone, while Themistocles had built

a temple to her as the Counsellor. Heré had only a doorless and roofless

temple on the road to Phalerum; but the god of fire was worshipped in

Athens abundantly. Hermes had his peculiar statues in every street,

irreverence to which might be fatal even to an Alcibiades, the city’s

darling; while Aphrodité had a crowd of temples and shrines whose unchaste

worship found but too many frequenters. Poseidon had to content himself

with a single altar in his rival’s city, and with games in its harbour;

but Dionysos had three temples, with brilliant festivals; Mars was not

without one; Hestia was throned in the Prytaneum; the Earth, Kronos, and

Rhea had their temples and festivals, as also the Erinnyes, who were

worshipped only in two other places in Greece. Here alone in Greece was a

sanctuary and a rite to Prometheus; while the Asiatic mother of the gods

had a splendid temple where the archives of the state were kept. Besides,

there was the worship of the Hours and the Graces, of Eileithyia, goddess

of victory and of birth, of Æsculapius and Themis, of the Kabirian Anakes,

the Arcadian Pan, the Thracian Cotytto and Bendis, the Egyptian Serapis.

Mercy and Shame, Fame and Endeavour had their altars; and the hero-worship

numbered Theseus, Codrus, Academus, Solon, the tyrant-slayers Harmodius

and Aristogeiton; and Hercules, originally a hero, but here and elsewhere

widely honoured as a god.(4)

Athens, if the most superstitious as well as the most intellectual of

cities, may be taken as the type of a thousand others of Hellenic race

scattered over the Roman empire from Marseilles to Antioch. Say that she

had twice as many deities and festivals as her sister cities, enough will

remain for them wherewith to occupy the soil with their temples and to

fill the year’s cycle with their rites.

The lively Grecian imagination impregnated not with stern notions of duty,

nor with reverential devotion to those whom it worshipped, but regarding

them as objects of æsthetical satisfaction,(5) and yearning for a serene

and confidential exchange of relations with them, had in process of time

spun out a complete web of idolatrous worship which encompassed heaven and

earth, the whole domain of nature, every state and act of human life. Rain

and sunshine and the weather stood under the ordering of Zeus; the

fruitfulness of the soil was Demeter’s care; countless nymphs of field, of

fountain, and of river, offered to men their gifts; the vine and its juice

was under the protection of Dionysos, and Poseidon was lord of the sea.

The flocks had their defenders in Hermes and Pan; the Fates ruled the lot

of men. Kings and magistrates had in Zeus their prototype and guardian.

Athené held her shield over cities; the hearth of each private home and

the public hearth of the city were in Hestia’s charge. Marriage was secure

under Heré’s care. Demeter was entrusted with legislation; the pains of

childbirth were recommended to Eileithyia, or Artemis. Music, archery,

divination, were Apollo’s attributes; the art of healing claimed him and

his son Æsculapius as patrons. Athené and Ares swayed the issue of war;

the chase was the domain of Artemis; smiths and all workers in fire saw in

Hephæstus their patron; whilst Athené the Worker protected the gentler

trades, and Hecate watched over the roads.(6)

Yet Rome itself, whose own Capitoline Jupiter claimed a certain

superiority over all these gods, would scarcely have yielded to any

Grecian city, even were it Athens, in the number or variety of her

deities, the frequency and solemnity of her festivals; while in the

costliness of victims offered to her gods, and in the strictness of her

ceremonies, she probably far surpassed that and all other cities. Her

sterner worship of originally shapeless gods, presiding over the labours

of a simple agricultural life, had long yielded to the seductions of her

dangerous Grecian captive. The rude block Terminus, and Jupiter the Stone,

ceased to satisfy those who had beheld the majesty of the father of gods

and men embodied by the genius of a Phidias; and she had ended by going

farther in breaking up the conception of one god, and in the

personification of particular powers, operations, physical functions, and

qualities, than any nation of antiquity.(7) But though the beautiful forms

of the Hellenic gods, as expressed by the skill of unrivalled sculptors,

had carried her away, yet the nature of her worship was in strong contrast

with that of Greece. Her religion had rested originally on two ideas, the

might of the gods friendly to Rome, and the force of ceremonial over these

gods;(8) and still when she accepted the gods of conquered nations for her

own, it was to secure the possession of their might, and to have them for

friends instead of foes; while her own worship was a matter of routine and

habit jealously guarded by unchanging ceremonies, and prosecuted not out

of affection, but for the material security of daily life, which,

according to the deeply-rooted feeling of the people, could not go on

without it.

The individualised and humanised Latin and Hellenic gods, if they had much

in common, still could not be thoroughly amalgamated; but Rome, as the

mistress of Western Asia and Egypt, came upon Oriental religions of a very

different stamp. Instead of this wide Pantheon of gods, each of whom had

his occupation, these Asiatics generally regarded the deity in a sexual

relationship, as one male and one female god, representing the active and

passive forms of nature,(9) and worshipped with a mixture of fear and

voluptuousness. Such were Bel and Mylitta, Moloch and Astarte, and by

whatever different names the same idea was presented. The worship of the

great mother Cybele, so widely spread through Asia Minor, approached in

many respects in character to that of this female goddess. But it is

needless to go farther into the specific differences of these various

idolatries; only bear in mind that they in their several countries

occupied the domain of public and private life, as the worship of which I

have given the details did at Athens. So it was before the influence of

external conquerors reached them. After this a certain change ensues. The

Roman empire was accomplishing in the west as well as in the east what the

progress of Grecian rule and thought had commenced three hundred years

before(10) under Alexander and his successors, the bringing together and

in some sort fusing the multiform and often contradictory worship of the

nations surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. Not merely in Rome, but in all

the chief cities of the Empire, the Asiatic, the Egyptian, the Libyan

deities, and many others of subject nations under the Roman sway, were

worshipped side by side. Accordingly, in the time of Augustus, and at the

year of Rome 750, where we are taking our stand, there prevailed all over

the hundred millions of men ruled by him a polytheistic idolatry

bewildering by its multiplicity, internal contradictions, fluctuations,

and mixtures, yet imposing by its universal extent and prevalence. The

only exception seems to have been the Jewish worship of one God, whether

in its chief seat, the small province of Judæa, or as it was seen in the

lives of Jewish settlers scattered throughout the empire. It must be

remarked that this Jewish worship of the true God was sanctioned as that

of a national god belonging to the Jews, and sacrifice was perpetually

offered for Augustus in the Temple at Jerusalem. But the Jews did not, as

a rule, make efforts to convert the Gentiles to their religion, nor seek

to exhibit it as antagonistic to the prevailing idolatry, and as claiming

to subdue and cast it out. They were content to keep their own worship to

themselves, and with the toleration which the Roman law thus allowed them.

Yet even so in every place where they dwelt in any numbers some of the

better heathens were found to be attracted to their worship by the

intrinsic beauty of their belief in one God.

2. But such an exception as this hardly made a perceptible break in that

continuous mass of evil and falsehood which then surrounded young and old,

learned and ignorant, rich and poor, in its grasp. The sea stands in Holy

Writ as the well-known image of the world’s disobedience to the divine

promptings, of its impetuosity and lawlessness. What image is there in

nature so striking and awful as the long waves of the Atlantic bearing

down in storm upon a helpless ship, and sweeping it upon an iron-bound

coast! So broke that wild sea of human error over the individual mind of

man. The observer looked round upon all the nations, and it was everywhere

the same—a multiplicity of gods filling up the whole circle of human life,

many-named, many-natured, but all without truth, purity, and justice; full

of violent and sensual deeds, and still viler imaginations. What stay was

there for the spirit of man against that universal flood? Its vastness was

everywhere. Who was strong enough, who wise enough, to resist what all his

fellows accepted? And the struggle of a single soul against it might seem

like that of “some strong swimmer in his agony” alone at night amid the

waste of waters.

3. For this polytheism was no dormant, otiose power withdrawn into the

background and crouching apart from the actions and feelings of daily

life. Its presence was indicated in every home by the little images of the

Lares; homage was done to it at every table by libations; every house had

its consecrated emblems; every street its statues of Hermes and serpents;

in the forum there were feasts in honour of the gods; the shops, taverns,

and manufactories had little altars on which wine and incense were offered

to them; there were idolatrous emblems on the foreheads of the dead, on

their funeral pyre, on their tombs. The places of amusement were specially

dedicated to the gods; the theatres had representations in honour of them;

the circus had their images, chairs, carriages, robes borne in procession;

the amphitheatre was consecrated to them, and as being so Tertullian

called it “the temple of all demons.” So much for private and social life.

But not only so. All political acts were bound up with a crowd of

religious formalities, and outward signs of divine concurrence; and were

carried on with a ceremonial, every part of which was prescribed as having

an exact inward meaning. Then there were continually recurring vows to the

gods made for the great, made for private individuals, made for the

emperor and his family. Three special ceremonies were used to obtain

favours from them or to deprecate calamities, feasts, the solemnly bearing

their images on cushions, processions with naked feet.(11) To this we must

add the priestly colleges, pontifices, flamines, augurs, and magistrates,

whether distinct or co-ordinated. Then, besides, consider the magical

character of the prayers, and the strict use of formularies without

mistake, omission, or addition, which were supposed to insure success

apart from the intention of those offering them. Thus the whole life of

the Romans was filled with invocations, propitiations, purifications, and

even in any small matter a whole string of gods had prayer and service

offered to them, and no one of their names might be omitted. Consider

again the great frequency of the offerings, whether propitiative or

consultatory; and, further, how particular beasts belonged to particular

gods. The mere expense of victims was felt as a great burden. It was

reckoned that on the accession of Caligula 160,000 animals, chiefly oxen

and calves, were sacrificed in the Roman Empire in token of the general

joy; and Augustus and Marcus Aurelius devoted such a multitude of beasts

to their sacrifices that what had been said of the former was repeated as

to the latter, how the white oxen had written to him, saying, “If you

conquer, we are lost.” Indications of the will of the gods were to be

taken on all occasions; nothing was to be done in public or private

without consulting the auspices. Then there was the institution of the

Haruspices, in its two branches of examining the entrails of the victims,

and divining the meaning of all prodigies. One is still amazed at the

ever-untiring solicitude which the senate showed to have all these things

carefully watched—eclipses, rainbows of unusual colours, shooting stars,

misbirths human or bestial; showers of earth, stones, chalk, or ashes;

mice gnawing the golden vessels of a temple, bees swarming on a public

place, but especially a shrine touched by lightning. Such things struck

senate and people with consternation; special supplications were ordered

to appease the causers of them.(12)

These are the external manifestations of polytheism which struck every

eye, and affected the mind by their constant recurrence. But if we go

beneath the surface and examine the root, we shall find an universal sense

in the minds of all men in that day of unseen power over and above the

material operations of nature. It was too strong as well as too general

and invariable to be called an opinion, and it so acted on the nerves and

feelings of men that I term it not so much a logical conviction as a sense

of the close contact between man and nature, or rather an unseen power

behind the veil of nature and working through it. Various as the forms of

idolatry were—Egyptian, Asiatic, Libyan, Greek, or Roman; or, again,

Iberian, Gallic, German,—all teemed with this sense. To the adherents of

these religions, one and all, the world was very far from being a mere

system of nature governed by general laws;(13) it may rather be said that

this was precisely what it was not. They looked upon nature in all its

forms as an expression of the divine will, and therefore the unusual

productions of nature became to them intimations respecting that will. And

having lost the guidance of a fixed moral and religious teaching, they

were ruled by an ever-watchful anxiety to gain acquaintance with that

will. On this sense rested the universal belief that it was in man’s power

to hold intercourse by means of charms, spells, adjurations, with spirits

of greater might and knowledge than his own—that is, magic or witchcraft.

Hence the evocation of the spirits of the dead to reveal secrets of their

prison-house, or necromancy. Hence the recurrence to oracles, running

through all pagan history, of which there were many scattered through the

Roman world, and which, after a temporary discredit, rose again into name

in the time of Hadrian. Not less general was the belief that men and women

might be possessed by spirits who ruled their words and actions according

to an overmastering will. Then divination existed in endlessly various

forms; and of its force we can gather a notion by Cicero’s remark that it

lay like an oppressive burden on the minds of men, so that even sleep,

which should be the refuge from anxieties, became through the meaning

attached to dreams the cause of a multitude of cares.(14) To this must be

added the use of sortileges, amulets, and talismans, in countless number

and variety; and the belief that the actions and fortune of men were

swayed by the course of the stars—that is, astrology. It was not the

vulgar and ignorant merely whose minds were filled with these things.

Scarcely a philosopher, scarcely a statesman, scarcely a ruler can be

found whose mind, even if proof against a genuine devotion to a divine

providence, was not open to one or more manifestations of the dark

mysterious power pressing upon the confines of human life, and every now

and then breaking through the veil of visible things with evidences of

malignant might. A more determined and unscrupulous conqueror than Sylla,

a more genuine philosopher than Marcus Aurelius, a more sagacious user of

religion than Augustus, we shall not easily find; yet each of these, like

their ordinary countrymen, had this sense of the supernatural and

intangible above, beneath, and around them. Sylla, on the eve of any

battle, would, in the sight of his soldiers, embrace a small statue of

Apollo, which he had taken from Delphi, and entreat it to give an early

fulfilment of its promises.(15) Marcus Aurelius, in his war with the

Marcomanni, collected priests from all quarters to Rome, and was so long

occupied in offering rites to their various foreign gods that he kept his

army waiting for him. And Augustus watched carefully the most trivial

signs, and was distressed if in the morning his left shoe was given to him

for his right. Even that Julius before whose genius all men quailed, and

whose disbelief of a future state stands recorded at a notable point of

Roman history, never mounted a chariot without uttering certain words for

good luck and preservation against calamity.(16) We shall therefore judge

most inadequately of the force which the innumerable rites, temples,

festivals, pomps, ceremonies, prayers, invocations, priesthoods,

sodalities, initiations, and mysteries of polytheism exercised upon the

minds of men, unless we take into full account that remarkable sense of

contact and sympathy between the external world and man—of invisible power

betraying itself through palpable agents, whether in reasoning or

unreasoning productions, whether in the animal or vegetable world—which

served as its basis. The line between religion and superstition in

paganism no eye can trace; but at least the foundation of true worship

plunged deep out of sight into the secret recesses of abject fear.

4. But what was the moral influence of this multiform, universal,

all-embracing, and all-penetrating worship?

Varro, whom Cicero calls the most acute and learned of writers, and whose

great work in forty-one books he praises as containing the names, classes,

offices, and causes of all divine and human things, divided theology into

the fabulous, the natural, and the civil. In the first, he said, are many

fictions unworthy of the nature and dignity of immortal beings: such as

that one god sprang from the head, another from the thigh, another from

drops of blood; such, again, as that gods were thieves or adulterers, or

became slaves to men. In fact, this fabulous theology attributed

everything to them which might happen not merely to a man, but to the most

contemptible of men.(17) Let us leave what he calls natural theology,

which is the discussion of philosophers concerning the physical nature of

the gods, and proceed to the third, which he calls civil, and which is

that which the citizens, and especially the priests of human communities,

are bound to know and administer. This treats of what gods are to be

worshipped, and with what rites and sacrifices. The first theology, he

says, belongs to the theatre, the second to the universe, the third to the

city. S. Augustine, commenting at length upon his division, proves that

the first and the third, the fabulous and the civil, are, in fact,

identical, since the universe is a divine work, but the theatre and the

city works of men. The theatre is indeed made for the city, and the very

same gods are ridiculed on the stage who are adored in the temple; the

same have games exhibited in their honour and victims sacrificed to them.

The images, features, ages, sexes, bearing of the gods in the one and in

the other are the same. Thus this fabulous, theatrical, and scenic

theology, full of everything vile and criminal, is actually a part of the

civil, cohering with it as limb with limb in the same body.(18)

Conceive, then, every revolting detail of adultery, prostitution, incest,

or of dishonesty, or of violence, which the perverted invention of modern

writers has ever dressed up for the theatres of great cities in this and

other countries. They will perhaps yield in turpitude to that which the

theatres of the Roman empire exhibited. But what these theatres

represented in mimic action was the exact image, as reflected in a mirror,

of what was transacted at the solemn service of the gods in unnumbered

temples.(19) The exact image so far as it went, yet stopping short in some

respects, for our eye-witness above cited declares that gratitude was due

to the actors, inasmuch as they spared the eyes of men, and did not lay

bare upon the theatre all that was hidden within the walls of temples. It

was not enough, then, that all the many games and spectacles in which such

things were represented were dedicated to the gods, acted under their

especial sanction, even enjoined by them as means of gaining their favour

or averting their wrath, which alone would have made them answerable for

the immorality so portrayed; not enough, even, that actions of this

quality were in the theatres ascribed to the gods who presided over them;

but these acts of immorality were not the fictions of poets or the acting

of players, but the very substance of the theology itself in which the

worship of all these nations was embodied. Priapus appeared to make a

laugh on the stage exactly in the costume in which he was worshipped in

the temples, or in which he entered into the rites of marriage; a costume

of indescribable turpitude, the shame of our human nature. The players on

the stage and the statues in the temples equally exhibited Jove bearded

and Mercury beardless, Saturn in decrepitude and Apollo in youthful

beauty. In the rites of Juno, of Ceres, of Venus, of the mother of the

gods, words were uttered and scenes acted such as no decent person would

suffer to be spoken or acted before his own mother; or rather they

contained, as a portion of themselves, the worst crimes which the theatres

represented; nay, crimes which they stopped short of acting, and persons

so infamous that they were not tolerated even on the stage, where yet to

take part was a civil dishonour. What, then, was the nature of those rites

wherein those were chosen to take part whom the utmost license of the

stage banished from its boards?(20) Let us conceive—if such a conception

can be adequately represented to the mind—that the vilest drama ever acted

upon a modern theatre was being daily carried on in all the churches of

Christendom by troops of priests and priestesses, with all the

paraphernalia of costliest worship, with prayers, invocation, and

sacrifices, as a service acceptable to the Ruler of man’s lot, and as an

account of what that ruler had Himself done, and of what He loved to be

imitated by others. That would be a picture of heathen worship in the time

of Augustus; that would be the moral food on which was nurtured that crowd

of nations which acknowledged Cæsar’s sway; that the conception of divine

things wrought into the minds of the hundred millions of men who formed

the Roman empire.

Was it surprising that all worshippers of the gods should look for their

example rather in Jupiter’s actions than in Plato’s teaching or the moral

judgments of Cato?(21) A nature subject in itself to the sway of passion

was stimulated by an authority supposed to be divine to the commission of

every criminal excess; and herein lay a strong proof of the malignant and

impure character of these gods.

On the other hand, the same eye-witness challenges the defenders of the

pagan gods to produce a single instance wherein moral precepts of living

were delivered to their worshippers upon divine authority. True, indeed,

there were here and there whispers of secret rites in which a pure and

chaste life was recommended, but where were the buildings dedicated to the

public preaching of such truths? Places there were in abundance

consecrated to the celebration of infamous games, rightly termed

“Fugalia,” since they put modesty and decency to flight, but none where

the people might listen to divine commands repressing avarice, ambition,

or unchaste desire. Thus with the positive inculcation of all evil, under

cover of their own example, was united the negative absence of all moral

teaching.(22)

For even the prayers which accompanied these sacrifices and this

ceremonial, and this lavish exhibition of every human wickedness under

divine names, were not addressed for moral goods, but for wealth, bodily

strength, temporal prosperity. Horace but expresses the general mind when

he says:

“Sed satis est orare Jovem quæ donat et anfert;

Det vitam, det opes, æquum mi animum ipse parabo.”

(_Epist._ i. 18, 111.)

They were moreover viewed as carrying with them a sort of physical force,

not as prevailing through purity of intention in those who offered them.

In fact, the gods to whom they were addressed were powers of nature, or

malignant and impure powers, but in neither case beings who looked for a

moral service from rational creatures.

One other turpitude the Asiatic idolatry added to the Greek and Roman

forms. By consecrating the sexual relations themselves in one male and one

female god, they effected this crowning connection of idolatry with

immorality that unchaste acts became themselves acts of sacrifice, and so

of worship.(23) This is the strange perversion borne witness to by

Herodotus, and corroborated by the prophet Jeremiah. A great seat of this

worship was the city of Hierapolis, in Syria, where was one of the most

magnificent temples of the ancient world, dedicated to Derketo, and rich

with the offerings of Arabians, Babylonians, Assyrians, Phœnicians,

Cilicians, Cappadocians, and all nations of the Semitic tongue. Nor was

this worship confined to the East, for hence, as from a centre, the

adherents of the Syrian goddess spread themselves in begging troops over

the provinces of the empire. And the worship of Venus at Eryx, and other

places in the West, with the thousands of female priestesses dedicated to

it, reproduced the same abomination.

As the great result of all that we have said, we find the notion of

sanctifying the human will absent from the religious rites of the

polytheistic idolatry in all its forms. To this corresponded the absence

of the notion of holiness in the gods. And this leads us finally to the

remarkable character which defines it as a whole. This worship was

throughout a corruption,(24) the spoiling, that is, of something good; a

turning away from the better to the worse. The worship itself had been

originally good. The corruption lay in the alteration of the quality and

the object of the worship. Worship had been implanted in man, and

prescribed to him. It was at once the need of his nature and the command

of Him who gave that nature. It had for it, first, positive institution,

and then tradition and custom, and throughout, the conscience, the reason,

and the heart of man. The reason of man ever bore powerful witness to the

unity of the Godhead; the breaking up of that unity, as exhibited by this

idolatrous polytheism, in contradiction to the original prompting and

continued witness of the reason, is a very strong proof of that moral

corruption in the will which first generated it, which continued its

existence, and which, while multiplying, degraded its forms from age to

age. But man was free to decline from the good in which he had been

placed. The corruption which was left in his power he exerted; he changed

the quality of the service, and the person served. The productive cause of

idolatry on the part of man was the soul of man turning away from the

notion of a good and holy Creator, the contemplation of whom was its

present support and future reward, to visible things. Of these things the

chief were bodily pleasures. Thus this corruption of the soul, in process

of time, and continually becoming worse, produced this whole pantheon of

gods, originally the creation of its own lusts, and subsisting as a

perpetual food and support of those lusts. For this cause it had broken up

the one perfect idea of God the Creator and Ruler of all persons and

things into a multitude of gods, whose functions became more and more

divided, until the ether, the air, the earth, and the water swarmed with

these supposed beings, which took possession even of wood and stone,

dwelling in the statues erected to them; and every desire which the soul

in its corruption could entertain had its corresponding patron, helper,

and exemplar. In this descending course cause and effect were perpetually

reacting on each other, and as the corruption of the human soul had

generated these gods, so their multiplication and degradation intensified

its corruption from age to age.(25)

5. But this was not all. If corrupt affection in man himself, if the charm

of representing the unseen objects of worship in visible characters of

wood or stone, if, finally, the ignorance of the true God, together with

the beauty of the creature substituted for Him,(26) were the disposing

causes within man to idolatry, there was a cause outside of him which must

not be forgotten. When we look upon this idolatry, occupying not one

country or race, but all; not merely bewildering savage or uncivilised

man, but throned in the chief seats of the world’s choicest civilisation;

when we look upon its endlessly divergent forms, its palpable

contradictions, its cherished or commanded immoralities, its crowd of

debasing, irrational, heterogeneous superstitions, its cruelty,

sensuality, and fearfulness, all these being no less an insult to man’s

reason than a derogation from God’s majesty, who is there that does not

feel this to be the strangest and most astonishing sight which history

presents to man? And yet there is a unity which runs through it all, and

stamps it with a double mark. Not only is it a service due from man to

God, which is paid by him to the creature rather than to the Creator,(27)

but more especially it is that service paid by man to God’s enemies, the

fallen angels. These it is who have assumed the mask of dead men; these it

is who within the sculptured forms of Jupiter, Juno, Mars, and Venus, of

Baal and Derketo and Mylitta, of Anubis and Serapis, of Thor and Woden,

and so many more, receive man’s adoration, and rejoice above all things in

possessing his heart. These it is who have seduced him by exhibitions of

visible beauty, have lain in wait for him by fountain, forest, and field,

and filled the groves and high places with the charms which best pleased

him under the name of worship; or have promised to disclose future things

to him; or, again, have harrowed his soul with phantasms and terrors of

the unseen world. These incoherent systems; these deities, whose functions

ran into and athwart each other; these investing of human passions, and

even unnatural and monstrous vices, with immortality and terrible power;

these rivals ever quarrelling with each other, and jealous for the

possession of man’s homage, all serve the purpose of those behind the

scenes, are puppets under their command, and have a common end and result

in the captivity of their victim. More even than this; while they seem

disunited and contradictory, they are really one, marshalled by the power,

directed by the mind, held in the hand of him who is called “the ruler of

this world,” “the power of darkness,” “the might of the enemy,” who “holds

the power of death,” “the ancient serpent, who leads into error the whole

world,” “that malignant one in whom the whole world is lying,” “the prince

of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the children of

disobedience,” who musters “the principalities, the powers, the

world-rulers of this life’s darkness, the spirits of wickedness in

ethereal places,” to serve him in his conflict with man’s flesh and blood;

in fine, for S. Paul’s language goes one point even beyond that of his

Master, and terms him not merely the ruler, but “the God of this

world;”(28) that is to say, this manifold idolatry is the establishment of

his kingdom, the enthronement of his godhead over men, the mark of their

captivity and prostration before him.

The statements of our Lord and his apostles being so express and definite

as to the existence of this diabolic kingdom, and as to the personal sway

of a sovereign over it, let us look once more at this idolatry itself by

the light thus shed upon it.

And first, whether we regard men as made to be members of a well-ordered

society, enjoying temporal prosperity in this life, or as further intended

for happiness in a future life, resulting from their present actions,(29)

the condition in which the heathen nations are actually found at our

Lord’s coming is quite unintelligible unless we suppose the reality of a

diabolic power exercised upon them. The polytheism which we have witnessed

holding all human life in its grasp, while it did not teach and uphold the

great laws of morality, did, on the other hand, actively inculcate the

violation of those laws by continually representing to the minds and eyes

of men such a violation in the acts of the deities worshipped. It was a

perpetual incitement of men to crimes, as well against social order as

against all the sanctities of private life; it fostered the savageness of

slavery, and the utmost cruelty in carrying on war, because its deities,

being diverse for every nation, and belonging exclusively to the nation,

had obliterated the idea that all men were of one blood, and thus

delivered over the captive and the slave to the pitiless hatred or equally

pitiless luxury of their fellow-men. So much for its action on human

society as terminating with this life, while for a life to come it had no

doctrine and made no preparation, but had suffered the earlier teaching of

a future retribution to be considered as a fable fit for children and old

women. Looking at such a condition of human society from the moral point

of view, we may conclude with certainty that man would never, if left to

himself, have devised it.

Secondly, regarding this polytheism as an object presented to the human

intellect, nothing more unreasonable and monstrous than this crowd of

deities can even be conceived. The human reason demands imperatively the

unity of the godhead, since infinite power at least enters into the

conception of the godhead, and to divide or limit infinity is an unreason.

All the great works and order of the world bore witness likewise to this

unity of the godhead, and were sufficient to prove it;(30) and even in the

worst times of paganism we find this proof exhibited with a force and

lucidity to which even now little can be added. And in the worst times,

again, we find the natural witness of the human soul breaking out in

moments of sudden trial or great anguish, and calling upon the one God for

help.(31) Yet in spite of this we see whole nations renowned for their

intellectual productions, and men among them in whom the force of reason

has rarely or never been surpassed, bowing their necks to this yoke of

polytheism, and accepting this tissue of monstrous error, paying homage to

it in their life, and dying with it on their lips; as Socrates offering

the cock to Æsculapius, and Seneca the libation to Jove the liberator. We

know not how to account for this, were man’s reason left alone. We can see

an adequate ground for it only in “men having been made unreasonable, and

in the demoniacal error overshadowing the earth, and concealing the

knowledge of the true God.”(32)

Let us take a third view of it, neither the moral nor the logical, but the

view of it as an existing fact, as something which for many hundred years

occupied the earth, ruled nations, moulded the institutions and characters

of men. Here we do not speak merely of the multitude of temples, of

priests or priestesses serving in them, of sacrifices offered by these, of

prayers, vows, festivals in honour of the gods—because all these enter

into the notion of a service rendered by man to the power superior to him,

and in their utmost perversion there is nothing which may not be accounted

for by a simply human corruption stealing into and spoiling an originally

good institution; but all these in the actual condition of paganism were

mixed up with and penetrated by other elements, and accompanied by effects

not to be so accounted for. Let us take the universal persuasion that the

statues of the gods were inhabited by the deities which they represented,

as bodies by souls.(33) Here was the notion of a spiritual power taking

possession of material forms. But how was this notion introduced,

propagated, and maintained in men’s minds? By certain visible and palpable

effects,(34) of which those who were eye-witnesses give us many details.

Take again the oracles which existed throughout the heathen world, and, as

dealing with the same subject-matter, divination in all its forms. However

much of deceit there might be here, was there not also, in many instances,

an exhibition of power and knowledge beyond that of man, which no mere

deceit could produce? Take again magic, the invocation, adjuration, and

compacting with spirits, which ran through heathen society in numberless

shapes; and take lastly the fact of spirits seizing upon and possessing

the bodies of men, speaking by their voice, and controlling their minds.

The four classes which we have just given comprehend in themselves an

innumerable multitude of facts which are apparent in pagan history, in all

which the corruption of the human soul is an agent or patient, but for

which that corruption by itself supplies no adequate cause. A spiritual

power is behind, laying hold of and acting upon this corruption, and by

fault of the human will making an inroad into the visible world, and

partially mastering it, bending it to an evil purpose, and making it serve

as an agent to man’s captivity. Let us briefly cite as to the reality of

this spiritual power the witness of its victims and the witness of its

opponents.

First, as to its victims. Scarcely a writer, whether poet, historian,

philosopher, or biographer, can be found among the heathens of Greece and

Rome who does not attest facts belonging to one or more of these four

classes which surpass human power, and suggest an invisible spiritual

agency. The poet who writes expressly to deny such an agency speaks of the

whole world as bowed beneath the fear of it; another poet,(35) referring

tacitly to this very passage, felicitates the man not who has a pure

conscience, but who through knowledge of natural things has trampled these

fears under his feet. Nor is such a belief confined to the vulgar; but

scarcely a man of eminence, a soldier, or a statesman can be cited who

does not in his life and actions acknowledge it, shrink from it, or cower

beneath it. It is too powerful for Alexander or even Julius to escape; and

the philosophers who affect to deny it in their systems exhibit it in

their conduct. They have all the conviction of an evil power beyond and

above nature, but taking hold of natural forms, and ever lying in wait to

burst forth from them upon human life. The Greek name for superstition is

fear of the demons; and what S. Paul said of the Athenians, that he found

them in all things too fearful of the demons, might be applied to the

whole circle of nations surrounding the midland sea.

Secondly, as to the opponents of this power. Now they offer a triple

witness to its existence. The first of these is in the facts mentioned in

the New Testament. The strongest, most terrible, and most inexplicable

instance of this power lies in those diabolical possessions with which so

many of our Lord’s miracles are concerned. Again, as to the reality of

divining powers arising from the presence of a demon in a human form, we

have the evil spirit in the girl at Philippi acknowledging in S. Paul a

servant of the most high God, and, when cast out by the Apostle in the

name of Christ, leaving his victim destitute of those powers which had

brought gain to her masters, who forthwith try to avenge themselves for

their loss by exciting a persecution against the Apostle.(36)

A second witness is found in the rites and offices of the very power set

up to dethrone and abolish this other power. The Church called upon every

one who was received into her bosom to begin by renouncing the usurpation

of this great enemy, which was thus declared to be universal. She provided

forms for exorcising him. One of her Apostles warned those to whom he

wrote that men could not partake at once of the Christian sacrifice and

the heathen; for as truly as one was the chalice of the Lord, the other

was the chalice of devils; as one was the table of the Lord, the other was

the table of devils.(37)

A third witness is found in the unanimous testimony of all Christian

writers as to the reality of the demoniacal powers with which they were

waging war; as to their perpetual interference with human life; as to the

open and palpable effects which they produced; as to their unwilling

retirement in the face of that Stronger One who was come upon them. It was

not merely the fervid Tertullian who offered to rest the truth of

Christianity and the life of any ordinary Christian upon his power

publicly to expel a demon. Athanasius, who weighs every word he utters,

says also, “Let him who will, try the truth of what we have said, and in

the very presence of the spectral illusion of the demons, of the deceit of

oracles and the wonders of magic, let him use the sign of the cross

derided by them, only naming the name of Christ, and he shall see how by

him the demons fly, the oracles cease, and every sort of magic and

witchcraft is annulled.” No less express is S. Augustine in acknowledging

the reality of these dark powers, and the wonders worked by them.(38)

Resuming then for a moment our view of heathenism as a whole, with regard

to the exhibition of diabolic power in it, let us bear in mind, joined to

the absence of moral teaching, its flagrantly immoral disposition;

secondly, its illogical character, by which it is an insult to human

reason while yet accepted by the human will; and thirdly, the superhuman

effects noted in it and attached to its rites, ceremonies, and practices,

attested by many generations alike of its victims as of its opponents.

These proofs have each their own separate force, but they have likewise as

to our conclusion a cumulative force; and its result is, that the

existence of a diabolic kingdom and sovereign throned in heathenism,

pervading its rites and directing its operations, which is so expressly

declared in Holy Writ, is no less strongly proved by the facts of history.

6. Now, having sketched in four main points the substance of this

polytheism, its multiplicity, its universality, its hold upon daily life,

and its moral corruption, to all which a consummating force is added by

the indwelling of diabolic power, it remains to give a glance at certain

conditions and circumstances under which it was acting on the minds of

men. We have here taken it and examined it by itself, abstracting it from

those circumstances, but it never so appeared to those who lived under it.

The wonderful error which so enfolded these widespread nations never

exhibited itself to them bare and naked. On the contrary, it came to them

interwoven with the dearest claims of the family, the city, the country,

with the force of habit and tradition, with the dread of change, with the

past history and future hopes of their fatherland, coloured moreover with

the radiant dress of a rich and ever-advancing civilisation.

To judge of its power, vitality, and chance of permanence, we must look at

it under these conditions. And if, when we regard this idolatrous

polytheism in itself, one is lost in wonder at its ever having arisen, at

its existence, at its continuance, so, when one regards it as throned in

the customs, feelings, convictions, and interests of society, one wonders

how any moral force could ever overthrow it. At the present time not only

are there religions outside of Christianity, but there are also sects

within it, so irrational, so devoid of the witness given by internal truth

and harmony, so unable to render any account of themselves and their

claims which will satisfy a mind looking for consistency, that, regarding

them merely as facts, one cannot account for them, yet notwithstanding

they may have existed for several hundred years, and had a large share in

forming national habits of thought, or even national character; nay,

perhaps their secret strength lies in some fold of this character itself.

And because they are never seen by themselves, their intrinsic absurdity

does not come before their adherents, and the last thing which these think

of examining is the foundation of their sect, inasmuch as in fact it has

never approached them otherwise than as a condition of their daily life.

So we shall understand paganism better by considering it as interwoven

with civilisation, polity, and national feelings. We will treat of it

briefly under these three heads.

1. First, the whole eastern part of the Roman empire was made up of many

various nations having a long and sometimes renowned history, kingdoms,

and politics much anterior to Rome herself, of which the Romans had taken

violent possession, but wherein remained still the fruits of a rich and

undisturbed civilisation. And this word comprehends all the natural life

of man, all the discoveries gained by his invention or experience, and

accumulated by wealth descending from age to age, all the manifold ties of

social intercourse, all the pleasures of the intellect, united, moreover,

in their case with an art even now unrivalled in portraying the beauty of

the human figure, and in the elegance with which it adapted material forms

to the conveniences of life. So rich and varied an inheritance unfolded

itself in a thousand Hellenic cities studding the shores of the

Mediterranean. The culture itself since the time of Alexander might be

termed Hellenic, but it embraced Egypt, and Syria, and all Western Asia.

And so completely was idolatrous polytheism interwoven with culture, so

inextricably was it blended with the bulk, so gradually had it grown with

the growth, and wound its fibres about the tree and the branches, that the

worship might be absolutely identified with the civilisation. The gods of

Greece were the heads of the most illustrious Grecian families; their

hero-worship consecrated every city, every grove, every field. The gods of

Egypt were blended with the long renown of the Nile-land, with every

Egyptian custom, with the beginning and the end of life. Not less had the

gods of Syria and Western Asia occupied their respective lands. These

deities struck their root into the home of man, into the union of the

sexes, into the loves of parent and child, of brother and sister. They had

their mementos in every street of busy traffic; they watched over the

Acropolis; not a fountain but laid claim to their patronage, nor a field

which was fruitful but by their supposed influence. These countries had

lost their political independence, but the material ease of life under the

majesty of the Roman name they retained. There was a passionate love for

this world’s goods, comforts, and enjoyments in the Greek, Syrian,

Asiatic, Egyptian, and Libyan races, all of them more or less worn, and

effete, and deeply sensualised; but their glory was this great Hellenic

civilisation, with which polytheism might be termed one and the same

thing.

2. When we turn to the West, the seat of the sovereign city and of the

empire itself, we find that from the very beginning and through many

centuries the political constitution of the city had been indissolubly

blended with the worship of the Roman gods. The religion of Rome was much

more than national; her polity seemed only another name for her worship.

Her temples were as much a part of her political life as her forum. So far

at least she had embodied in her whole structure the legend of her

Etruscan teacher, wherein the dwarf Tages sprung from the soil to

communicate the worship claimed by the gods.(39) Her soil and her worship

were indivisible. And even after seven centuries, when the city was

embracing the world in its arms, this union practically existed. Rome

indeed admitted, as we have said, the gods of the conquered nations into

her pantheon, but it was on the same tenure as the nations themselves

shared her civic rights. Jupiter Capitolinus was a sort of suzerain not

only to the gods of the Grecian Olympus, but to the dark forms of the Nile

deities, to the Syrian, the Libyan, the Gallic, the Germanic, the

Sarmatian Valhalla. When the greatest of her poets would express unending

duration, he joins together the race of Æneas enthroned on the Capitol

with the god who dwelt there:

“Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet ævo,

Dum domus Æneæ Capitoli immobile saxum

Accolet, imperiumque Pater Romanus habebit.”

The Roman father is the Capitoline Jupiter. I am not a king; the only king

of the Romans is Jupiter, said the most royal of the race, and the founder

of her empire, when, seeing all prostrate at his feet, he put away

reluctantly the diadem offered by his creature. Thus even he who had

seized the reality of power, who would have omens when he pleased, and

whose will was his law, left the crown on the head of Jupiter. In Rome,

all through her history “piety and patriotism were the same feeling.”(40)

When her empire became world-wide, this sort of devotion did not cease.

Rome had long been deified; and the double import of her name(41)

expressed strength against the foe without, and nourishment to the child

within. She was at once a warrior-goddess clothed in mail to meet the

enemy, and a mother offering her bosom to her citizens clustered around

her. And so in her new constitution, adapted for the world, her emperor

too was deified, as the first of her children, her living representative,

the embodiment of her force and love, the visible wielder of her unseen

power. All that is sacred in home and country to us the Roman signified

when he swore by the genius of the emperor. Nothing could be more tolerant

than this polytheism, if the innovation extended only to the borrowing or

creating a new divinity, to reforming a rite or a ceremony,(42) or to

suchlike modifications of worship which admitted that on which it rested;

but nothing more intolerant than the same polytheism when the worship

itself was attacked. A movement against the Capitoline Jupiter would be

not only sacrilege but high treason, and the refusal to call to witness

the emperor’s genius was in fact to deny his imperial authority. The

worship of the gods was as much identified with the empire of Rome in the

West as with the civilisation of Greece throughout the East.

3. But as if these two powers were not ties sufficiently strong to hold

polytheism together, there was another feeling distinct from both, which

formed its last bulwark. The iron hand which held in its grasp these vast

countries, many of them so large that by themselves they might have been

empires, was strong enough to prevent or crush insurrection, but provided

only the majesty of the Roman peace was accepted, did not seek to disturb

a large remnant of local feeling and interest still representing the

former life and polity of the several provinces. Now whatever of national,

tribe, or race feeling existed, was grouped everywhere about the worship

of the native gods.(43) The Nile-land had ceased to be a royal seat, and

was governed by a simple Roman knight as prefect of the emperor; but not

for this had the Nile gods abdicated their dark sway over their votaries.

In them the Egyptians still felt that they had something which was their

own. Thus, whatever force of patriotism still lurked in the several parts

of the empire was nurtured by its own form of polytheism, which it in turn

invested with the memories dearest and most ineradicable in man, of past

independence or renown. Not only the Egyptians, but the various Asiatic

and Libyan races, the Gauls and Germans under Roman sway, were thus

attached to their native gods with a feeling no doubt akin to that of the

English towards “Old England,” or the Russians towards “Holy Russia.”

4. Two more conditions of society throughout the whole empire we have yet

to consider in their bearing on the maintenance of polytheism: first, the

concentration of the vast power of the state—in itself an acknowledged

omnipotence, without the restriction or reservation of individual

rights—in one hand, the hand of the emperor, the sole representative of

the people. By this it would seem that all the upper classes of society,

the classes at ease as to their maintenance, the classes who have leisure

to think and will to act in political matters, were deprived of so much of

their freedom, and such deprivation would tend to support an existing

institution. Secondly, the despotism above was met by a corresponding

despotism below. The rights of the slaveholder over the human labourer

left as little margin of freedom to daily toil as the right of the

imperial autocrat to the freedom of conscience in the rich. The servants

throughout the world of Rome being slaves, were as much in the hand of

their masters as those masters were in the hand of the prince.

We can now take a prospect of human society in reference to the polytheism

of the empire from the standing-point of Augustus in the last twenty years

of his reign. The worship of her gods was so intertwined with the

political constitution of Rome from her birth through seven centuries and

a half, that it might be said to be one thing with it. Almost as close was

the identification of the several religious systems of the East with the

enjoyments of civilised life which they prized so highly, and which the

empire of Rome secured to them. Further in the background the national

gods of the many races included in the empire were the last inheritance of

their former independent life. Again, not only was the emperor as Pontifex

Maximus the official head of this polytheism, but as representing the

whole power of the state, he was its guardian, and whatever assailed it

was an insult to the majesty which he embodied; while the slavery in which

the masses were lying seemed to represent in human society the chances of

war which had all ended in the dominion of Rome and the subjection of the

whole pantheon of incongruous gods to the sovereignty of the Capitoline

Jupiter. These were general conditions to that multifarious whole of

nations and races. Then if Augustus sought to examine more narrowly the

society of Roman citizens spread through his empire, he would find it

divided very unequally as to numbers into two classes. The vast majority

were those who take things as they find them, and who belonged with more

or less fidelity and heartiness to the idolatrous polytheism. The worship

which came to them as part and parcel of the empire, of civilised and of

national life, they accepted without thought. To all these an indefinite

number of immoral gods was throned in possession of Olympus; to all these

the result of such worship was, as we have seen described by S. Augustine,

the utter perversion of morality, the consecration of fables equalling in

turpitude the utmost license of the theatres. But everywhere among the

educated classes were to be found a small number of sceptical minds:

philosophers they termed themselves: it was fashionable to follow some

philosophic system or sect, and these fell mainly into two. Now the

Epicureans and the Stoics, while they left the existing polytheism in

practical possession, as a matter of custom and state religion, and so

delivered themselves from any unpleasant consequences of denying the

prevailing worship, concurred entirely in this, that the one by the way of

atheism, the other by that of pantheism, destroyed all religion of the

heart and inner conduct; because they equally removed the notion of a

personal God, and its corresponding notion of a personal being in man

outliving the body and the world of sense, and meeting with a personal

retribution. Whether the power they acknowledge be nature, as in

Lucretius, or a hidden physical force running through all nature, which

might be called Jupiter, Juno, Hercules, or the name of any other god, as

in Marcus Aurelius, the notion of a personal Creator, provident and

rewarding, was equally destroyed. Nor before the preaching of the Gospel

does there appear a single individual who drew out of the existing

polytheism such a conclusion. On the contrary, in Augustus and his

successors the imperial idea of unity in religion was to make out that all

these systems of polytheism, running into and athwart each other, came

practically to the same thing, differing in name only. Their obedience to

Jupiter of the Capitol was the only bond of unity, and pledge of the

empire’s duration, conceived by the Roman rulers.

II. Thus in the time of Augustus no human eye, whether we look at the mass

of mankind or the thinking few, could see any sign either that the

dominant polytheism was about to fall, or that the lost doctrine of the

divine Unity and Personality could be extricated from the bewildering mass

of error and superstition which had grown over, disguised, and distorted

it. Darker still, if possible, became the prospect under his successor,

Tiberius, whose reign had reached the climax of moral debasement, when

Sejanus was all-powerful at Rome. Hope for the human race there appeared

none, when such an emperor devolved his omnipotence on such a prime

minister. Then in the judgment-hall of a procurator in a small and distant

eastern province, there passed the following dialogue between an accused

criminal and his judge:—“Pilate went into the prætorium again, and called

Jesus, and said to him, ‘Art thou the king of the Jews?’ Jesus answered

him, ‘Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or have others told it thee of

me?’ Pilate answered, ‘Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests

have delivered thee up to me: what hast thou done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My

kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my

servants would strive that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now

my kingdom is not from hence.’ Pilate therefore said to him, ‘Art thou a

king, then?’ Jesus answered, ‘Thou sayest that I am a king. For this was I

born, and for this came I into the world, that I should bear witness to

the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.’ Pilate saith

to him, ‘What is truth?’ ” He who thus declared himself to be a king, the

cause of whose birth and advent into the world, the function of whose

royalty, was to bear witness to the truth, received from the power which

then ruled the world the punishment allotted to the slave who was worthy

of death. For many ages a false worship had overshadowed the earth, hiding

the true God from men, and setting up instead a multitude of demons for

gods. And during this time the thinkers of Greek and Roman society had

been asking, What is truth? And now the officer who asked that question of

the Truth Himself, replied to it by crucifying Him. And when the body of

that Crucified One was the same day taken down from the cross and laid in

its sepulchre, the power which reigned in polytheism and spoke by the

mouth of the judge, seemed to have given the final answer of triumphant

force to its question, What is truth? and falsehood might be thought to

reign supreme and victorious in the world.

It was with the resurrection of that Body, in which Truth was enshrined,

that the resurrection of truth among men began. He had said to His

disciples a few hours before, not “I show the truth,” but “I am the

Truth.” His birth and His advent took place that His witness might be

given to it, the witness to it being that very birth and advent, His

appearance among men, and the reception He would meet with. The

crucifixion itself—the reply of triumphant force to its own unanswered

question—was the witness which, first in Him, and then in His followers,

should make itself heard over the earth, now held in captivity by

falsehood. And since Truth is His proper Name and His personal Being from

eternity, and by being the Truth He who spoke is the second Person in the

Godhead, the perfect Image of all Truth, let us consider the import of His

Name as the summing-up of the great antagonism which He then planted on

the earth.

For He named Himself the Truth because He is the Son and the Word of the

Father. “Thus the Father, as it were uttering Himself, begot His Word,

equal to Himself in all things. For He would not fully and perfectly have

uttered Himself, if there were anything less or anything more in His Word

than in Himself.... And therefore this Word is truly the Truth; inasmuch

as whatever is in that knowledge of which He is begotten, is also in

Himself; and whatsoever is not in it, is not in Himself.... The Father and

the Son know each other, the one by generating, the other by being

generated.”(44) Thus it is that He is the perfect Word, the absolute Image

of God; and being the Image of God He created man in the beginning a copy

of that Image, and according to its resemblance, in that He created him in

the indivisible unity of a soul intelligent and willing—a created copy of

the Trinity in Unity. But though by the original constitution of the soul

this copy could not be destroyed, being the very essence of the soul, yet

the resemblance might be marred, and the harmony which reigned in the

original man between the soul, its intellect, and will, through the

indwelling of God’s Spirit, was broken by the act of sin; whereupon that

Spirit withdrew from him, and left the copy of the divine Image defaced

and disordered. All the heathenism we have been considering is the

sequence of that disorder, part of which is the grievous obscuration of

truth, that is, of the whole relation between God and man, of which

idolatrous polytheism is the perversion. It was the exact representation

of the soul’s own disorder, being the distortion but not the extinction of

worship; the fear of many demons, instead of the fear of one God; slavish

instead of filial fear.

But as the Truth of the Father is beheld and expressed in generating His

Son, His Word, His perfect Image, so truth to man is the resemblance of

created things to the archetypal idea of them in God; the resemblance of

the works of the divine art to the Artificer’s intention. In this long act

of heathenism we see the work of the divine Artificer marred and obscured,

and the marring and obscuration seem to have gone as far as was possible

without touching the essence of the soul. Who, then, should restore, but

He who had first created? Who should give back to the copy the lost

harmony, and reimprint the defaced resemblance, save the perfect Image of

God? Thus, when the corruption had run its course, and the original

disobedience had reproduced itself all over the earth in a harvest of evil

and disorder, the time for the work of reparation was come, and the Divine

Word, the Image of the Father, took flesh.

Magnificent as had been the dower of the First Man, and wonderful the

grace which held his soul in harmony with itself, and his bodily

affections in obedience to his soul, incomparably more magnificent was the

dower of human nature in its reparation, inconceivably grander the grace

which ruled the Soul and Body of the Restorer. For whereas the First Man’s

person had been simply human, the Person of the Second Man was the Divine

Word Himself, the perfect Image of the Father; and whereas the grace of

the First Man was such that he was able not to sin, the grace which had

assumed the nature of the Second Man was a Person who could not sin, the

fountain of grace itself, measureless, absolute, and personal. The Image

of God Himself came to restore the copy of that Image in Man; his

appearance as man among men was the reconveying of the Truth to them,

because He was the Truth Himself. The Truth in all its extent; the Truth

in the whole moral order and every relation which belongs to it; the Truth

by which all the rational creation of God corresponds to the Idea of its

Creator, was the gift which He brought to man in His Incarnation.

But this truth is not merely external to man. In order to be received and

appropriated by him, he must become capable of it. The Restorer works his

restoration by an inward act upon the soul, its intellect and will. The

Image of God sets up His seat within His work, the copy. Man is sealed by

the Holy Spirit with the likeness and resemblance of the Father’s Face,

the Son; and having the Son within him, and giving a home within the soul

to the divine character, and making this his treasure, man is formed after

God.(45) The supreme likeness, which is beyond all others, is impressed on

human souls by the Spirit of the Father and the Son. As the defacing of

the likeness, the result of the original fall, caused the obscuring of the

Truth, so its restoration was itself the recovery of the Truth.

And this restoration is itself the witness to the Truth of which He spoke

before Pilate as the object of His birth and advent. But to make the

witness operative and fruitful, the greatest wonder in this list of

wonders is required, the suffering of the Truth Himself. He said of the

corn of wheat, which was to bear fruit in unnumbered hearts, that it would

remain alone unless it fell into the ground and died. And so His

crucifixion in the nature which He had assumed was the act from which the

renewal of truth went forth; and not only in His Person, but likewise in

His chosen witnesses this special mode of vivifying the truth, and making

it fruitful, should be repeated. Not only must the absolute Truth of God

appear in our nature itself in order to be accepted, but the nature in

which it appeared should offer the sacrifice of itself; and this

particular mode of propagating the truth should be observed in that chosen

band whom He termed specially His witnesses. Their witness should be their

suffering; in them too the Truth should be crucified, and so become

fruitful.

And as man in his original creation had been a copy, however faint, of the

eternal relations of the Godhead in itself, so his restoration springs

from those same eternal relations. In it the Father, the Son, and the Holy

Spirit are seen working.(46) It springs from the Father, in that He is the

Father of the only-begotten Son, the Original of the Image, and so the

Father of all those who are the copies of that Image. It springs from the

Son, in that He is the perfect Image of the Father, and by dwelling in a

created nature has raised it to the dignity of His Person, from which the

grace of Sonship comes. It springs from the Holy Spirit, whose work as the

Spirit of the Father and the Son is to imprint the copy of the Son on man.

He performs in every one of the redeemed by communicating to them a

participation of the divine nature, by dwelling in them, by contact and

coherence with them, a work infinitely less in degree, but yet of the same

order with that work of His whereby all the fulness of the Godhead dwelt

by personal unity in our Lord’s Manhood.(47)

But we left our Lord before Pilate, bearing witness to the truth. It

remains to see how that truth became impressed on the world.

The Formation of Christendom, Volume II · 第 1 / 8 章