follows:--"From Syria even unto Rome I fight with wild beasts, by
sea and by land, by night and day; being bound amongst ten
leopards, which are the band of soldiers: who even when good is
done to them render evil." Now if this account be in the least
degree true, how is it possible to suppose that the martyr could
have found means to write so many long epistles, entering minutely
into dogmatic teaching, and expressing the most deliberate and
advanced views regarding ecclesiastical government?'
And again:--
'It is impossible to suppose that soldiers such as the quotation
above describes would allow a prisoner, condemned to wild beasts
for professing Christianity, deliberately to write long epistles at
every stage of his journey, promulgating the very doctrines for
which he was condemned. And not only this, but on his way to
martyrdom, he has, according to the epistles, perfect freedom to
see his friends. He receives the bishops, deacons, and members of
various Christian communities, who come with greetings to him, and
devoted followers accompany him on his journey. All this without
hindrance from the "ten leopards," of whose cruelty he complains,
and without persecution or harm to those who so openly declare
themselves his friends and fellow-believers. The whole story is
absolutely incredible.'
To this objection, plausible as it may appear at first sight, a complete
answer is afforded by what is known of Roman procedure in other cases
[75:1]. As a matter of fact, Christian prisoners during the early
centuries were not uncommonly treated by the authorities with this same
laxity and indulgence which is here accorded to Ignatius. An excited
populace or a stern magistrate might insist on the condemnation of a
Christian; a victim must be sacrificed to the wrath of the gods, or to
the majesty of the law; a human life must be 'butcher'd to make a Roman
holiday;' but the treatment of the prisoners meanwhile, even after
condemnation, was, except in rare instances, the reverse of harsh. St
Paul himself preaches the Gospel apparently with almost as much effect
through the long years of his imprisonment as when he was at large.
During his voyage he moves about like the rest of his fellow-travellers;
when he arrives at Rome, he is still treated with great consideration.
He writes letters freely, receives visits from his friends, communicates
with churches and individuals as he desires, though the chain is on his
wrist and the soldier at his side all the while. Even at a much later
date, when the growth of the Christian Church may have created an alarm
among statesmen and magistrates which certainly cannot have existed in
the age of Ignatius, we see the same leniency of treatment, and (what is
more important) the same opportunities of disseminating their opinions
accorded to the prisoners. Thus Saturus and Perpetua, the African
martyrs, who suffered under Severus [76:1] (apparently in the year 202
or 203), are allowed writing materials, with which they record the
extant history of their sufferings; and they too are visited in prison
by Christian deacons, as well as by their own friends. They owed this
liberty partly to the humanity of the chief officers; partly to
gratuities bestowed by their friends on the gaolers [76:2]. Even after
the lapse of another half-century, when Decius seriously contemplated
the extermination of Christianity, we are surprised to find the amount
of communication still kept up with the prisoners in their dungeons. The
Cyprianic correspondence reveals to us the confessors and martyrs
writing letters to their friends, visited by large numbers of people,
even receiving the rites of the Church in their prisons at the hands of
Christian priests.
But the most powerful testimony is derived from the representations of a
heathen writer. The Christian career of Peregrinus must have fallen
within the reign of Antoninus Pius (A.D. 138-161). Thus it is not very
far removed, in point of time, from the age of Ignatius. This Peregrinus
is represented by Lucian, writing immediately after his death (A.D.
165), as being incarcerated for his profession of Christianity, and the
satirist thus describes the prison scene [76:3]:--
'When he was imprisoned, the Christians, regarding it as a great
calamity, left no stone unturned in the attempt to rescue him.
Then, when they found this impossible, they looked after his wants
in every other respect with unremitting zeal ([Greek: ou parergôs
alla sun spoudê]). And from early dawn old women, widows, and
orphan children, might be seen waiting about the doors of the
prison; while their officers ([Greek: hoi en telei autôn])
succeeded, by bribing the keepers, in passing the night inside with
him. Then various meals were brought in, and religious discourses
were held between them, and this excellent Peregrinus (for he still
bore this name) was entitled a new Socrates by them. Moreover,
there came from certain cities in Asia deputies sent by the
Christian communities to assist and advise and console the man.
Indeed they show incredible despatch, when any matter of the kind
is undertaken as a public concern; for, in short, they spare
nothing. And so large sums of money came to Peregrinus at that time
from them, on the plea of his fetters, and he made no
inconsiderable revenue out of it.'
The singular correspondence in this narrative with the account of
Ignatius, combined with some striking coincidences of expression [77:1],
have led to the opinion that Lucian was acquainted with the Ignatian
history, if not with the Ignatian letters. For this view there is much
to be said; and, if it be true, the bearing of the fact on the
genuineness of the Ignatian literature is important, since Lucian was
born in Syria somewhere about A.D. 120, and lived much in Asia Minor. At
all events it is conclusive for the matter in hand, as showing that
Christian prisoners were treated in the very way described in these
epistles. The reception of delegates and the freedom of correspondence,
which have been the chief stumbling-blocks to modern criticism in the
Ignatian letters, appear quite as prominently in the heathen satirist's
account of Peregrinus [77:2].
In the light of these facts the language of Ignatius becomes quite
intelligible. He was placed under the custody of a maniple of soldiers.
These ten men would relieve guard in turns, the prisoner being always
bound to one or other of them day and night, according to the well-known
Roman usage, as illustrated by the case of St Paul. The martyr finds his
guards fierce and intractable as leopards. His fight with wild beasts,
he intimates, is not confined to the arena of the Flavian amphitheatre;
it has been going on continuously ever since he left Antioch. His
friends manage to secure him indulgences by offering bribes, but the
soldiers are exorbitant and irritating in the extreme [78:1]. The more
they receive, the more they exact. Their demands keep pace with his
exigencies. All this is natural, and it fully explains the language here
ascribed to Ignatius. A prisoner smarting under such treatment naturally
dwells on the dark side of the picture, without thinking how a critic,
writing in his study centuries afterwards, will interpret his
fragmentary and impulsive utterances. In short, we must treat Ignatius
as a man, and not as an automaton. Men will not talk mechanically, as
critics would have them talk.
(2) Having declared 'the whole story' to be 'absolutely incredible,' on
the grounds which I have just considered, our author continues [78:2]:--
'This conclusion, irresistible in itself, is, however, confirmed by
facts arrived at from a totally different point of view. It has
been demonstrated that Ignatius was not sent to Rome at all, but
suffered martyrdom in Antioch itself on the 20th December, A.D. 115
(^3), when he was condemned to be cast to wild beasts in the
amphitheatre, in consequence of the fanatical excitement produced
by the earthquake which took place on the 13th of that month (^4).'
The two foot-notes contain no justification of this very positive
statement, though so much depends upon it; but the reader is there
furnished with a number of references to modern critics. These
references have been analysed by Dr Westcott [79:1], with results very
similar to those which my analysis of the author's previous notes has
yielded. In some cases the writers express opinions directly opposed to
that for which they are quoted; in others they incline to views
irreconcilable with it; and in others they suspend judgment. When the
references are sifted, the sole residuum on which our author rests his
assurance is found to be a hypothesis of Volkmar [79:2], built upon a
statement of John Malalas, which I shall now proceed to examine. The
words of John Malalas are--
'The same king Trajan was residing in the same city (Antioch) when
the visitation of God (_i.e._ the earthquake) occurred. And at that
time the holy Ignatius, the bishop of the city of Antioch, was
martyred (or bore testimony, [Greek: emarturêse]) before him
([Greek: epi autou]); for he was exasperated against him, because
he reviled him.' [79:3]
The earthquake is stated by Malalas to have occurred on the 13th of
December, A.D. 115. On these statements, combined with the fact that the
day dedicated to St Ignatius at a later age was the 20th of December
[79:4], Volkmar builds his theory. It will be observed that the cause of
the martyr's death, as laid down by Volkmar, receives no countenance
from the story of Malalas, who gives a wholly different reason--the
irritating language used to the emperor.
Now this John Malalas lived not earlier than the latter half of the
sixth century, and possibly much later. His date therefore constitutes
no claim to a hearing. His statement moreover is directly opposed to the
concurrent testimony of the four or five preceding centuries, which,
without a dissentient voice, declare that Ignatius suffered at Rome.
This is the case with all the writers and interpolators of the Ignatian
letters, of whom the earliest is generally placed, even by those critics
who deny their genuineness, about the middle or in the latter half of
the second century. It is the case with two distinct martyrologies
[80:1], which, agreeing in little else, are united in sending the martyr
to Rome to die. It is the case necessarily with all those Fathers who
quote the Ignatian letters in any form as genuine, amongst whom are
Irenæus and Origen and Eusebius and Athanasius. It is the case with
Chrysostom, who, on the day of the martyr's festival, pronounces at
Antioch an elaborate panegyric on his illustrious predecessor in the see
[80:2]. It is the case with several other writers also, whom I need not
enumerate, all prior to Malalas.
But John Malalas, it is said, lived at Antioch. So did Chrysostom some
two centuries at least before him. So did Evagrius, who, if the earliest
date of Malalas be adopted, was his contemporary, and who, together with
all preceding authorities, places the martyrdom of Ignatius in Rome. If
therefore the testimony of Malalas deserves to be preferred to this
cloud of witnesses, it must be because he approves himself elsewhere as
a sober and trustworthy writer.
As a matter of fact however, his notices of early Christian history are,
almost without exception, demonstrably false or palpably fabulous
[80:3]. In the very paragraph which succeeds the sentence quoted, he
relates how Trajan had five Christian women burnt alive; the emperor
then mingled their ashes with the metal from which the vessels used for
the baths were cast; the bathers were seized with swooning-fits in
consequence; the vessels were again melted up; and out of the same metal
were erected five pillars in honour of the five martyrs by the emperor's
orders. These pillars, adds Malalas, stand in the bath to the present
day. As if this were not enough, he goes on to relate how Trajan made a
furnace and ordered any Christians, who desired, to throw themselves
into it--an injunction which was obeyed by many. Nor when he leaves the
domain of hagiology for that of chronology, is this author any more
trustworthy. For instance, he states that Manes first propounded his
doctrine in the reign of Nerva, and that Marcion still further
disseminated the Manichean heresy under Hadrian [81:1]. An anachronism
of a century or more is nothing to him.
We have seen by this time what authority suffices, in our author's
judgment, to 'demonstrate' a fact; and no more is necessary for my
purpose. But it may be worth while adding that the error of Malalas is
capable of easy explanation. He has probably misinterpreted some earlier
authority, whose language lent itself to misinterpretation. The words
[Greek: marturein, marturia], which were afterwards used especially of
martyrdom, had in the earlier ages a wider sense, including other modes
of witnessing to the faith: the expression [Greek: epi Traïanou] again
is ambiguous and might denote either 'during the reign of Trajan,' or
'in the presence of Trajan.' A blundering writer like Malalas might have
stumbled over either expression [81:2].
The objections of our author have thus been met and answered; and
difficulties which admit of this easy explanation cannot, I venture to
think, be held to have any real weight against even a small amount of
external testimony in favour of the Epistles. The external testimony
however is considerable in this case [81:3]. The Epistle of Polycarp,
which purports to have been written so soon after this journey of
Ignatius through Asia Minor that the circumstances of the martyr's death
were not fully known there, speaks of his letters in language which is
entirely applicable to the existing documents. Our author indeed
declares this Epistle also to be spurious. But Irenæus, the pupil of
Polycarp, bears testimony to the existence of such an Epistle; and I
pledge myself to answer in a subsequent paper the objections urged
against its genuineness by our author and others [82:1]. Besides this,
Irenæus, writing about A.D. 180-190, quotes a characteristic and
distinctive passage from the Epistle to the Romans, not indeed
mentioning Ignatius by name, but introducing the quotation as the words
of a member of the Christian brotherhood. And again, in the first half
of the next century Origen cites two passages from these letters,
ascribing them directly to Ignatius. I say nothing of the later and more
explicit references and quotations of Eusebius, important as these are
in themselves. Our author indeed seems to consider this amount of
testimony very insufficient. But even if we set Polycarp aside, it would
hardly be rash to say that the external evidence for at least two-thirds
of the remains of classical antiquity is inferior. We Christians are
constantly told that we must expect to have our records tested by the
same standards which are applied to other writings. This is exactly what
we desire, and what we do not get. It is not easy to imagine the havoc
which would ensue, if the critical principles of the Tübingen school and
their admirers were let loose on the classical literature of Greece and
Rome.
External testimony therefore leaves a very strong presumption in favour
of the genuineness of the Ignatian letters in one form or other; and
before rejecting them entirely, we are bound to show that internal
evidence furnishes really substantial and valid objections to their
authenticity. It is not sufficient, for instance, to allege that the
saint's desire for martyrdom, as exhibited in these Epistles, is
extravagant, because we have ample testimony for believing that such
extravagance (whether commendable or not) was highly characteristic of
the faith and zeal of the early Christians when tried by persecution.
Nor again, is it of any avail to produce some eccentricities of thought
or language, because there is no _a priori_ reason why St Ignatius
should not have indulged in such eccentricities.
Unless therefore really solid objections can be urged, we are bound by
all ordinary laws of literary evidence to accept as genuine at all
events the shortest form in which these Epistles are presented to us. In
other words, the Curetonian letters at least must be received. And as
these satisfy all the quotations and references of the second and third
centuries (though not those of Eusebius in the first half of the
fourth), perhaps not more is required by the external testimony. Against
the genuineness of these it may be presumed that our author has advanced
what he considered the strongest arguments which the case admits; and I
have answered them. I am quite aware that other objections have been
alleged by other critics; but it will be sufficient here to express a
conviction that these have no real force against even the slightest
external testimony, and to undertake to meet them if they are
reproduced. Thus all the supposed anachronisms have failed. Bochart, for
instance, was bold enough to maintain that the Ignatian Epistle to the
Romans could not have been written before the time of Constantine the
Great, because 'leopards' are mentioned in it, and the word was not
known until this late age. In reply to Bochart, Pearson and others
showed conclusively, by appealing (among other documents) to the
contemporary Acts of Martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicitas (who suffered
when Geta was Cæsar, about A.D. 202), that 'leopards' were so called
more than a century at least before Constantine, while they gave good
reasons for believing that the word was in use much earlier. I am able
to carry the direct evidence half a century farther back. The word
occurs in an early treatise of Galen (written about the middle of the
second century), without any indication that it was then a new or
unusual term. This passage, which (so far as I am aware) has been
hitherto overlooked, carries the use back to within some forty years, or
less, of the professed date of the Ignatian letters; and it must be
regarded as a mere accident that no earlier occurrence has been noticed
in the scanty remains of Greek and Roman literature which bridge over
the interval. Of the institution of episcopacy again, it is sufficient
to say that its prevalence in Asia Minor at this time, whatever may have
been the case elsewhere, can only be denied by rejecting a large amount
of direct and indirect evidence on this side of the question, and by
substituting in its place a mere hypothesis which rests on no basis of
historical fact.
On the other hand, the Epistles themselves are stamped with an
individuality of character which is a strong testimony to their
genuineness. The intensity of feeling and the ruggedness of expression
seem to bespeak a real living man. On this point however it is
impossible to dwell here; anyone who will take the pains to read these
Epistles continuously will be in a better position to form a judgment on
this evidence of style, than if he had been plied with many arguments.
But if the Curetonian letters are the genuine work of Ignatius, what
must we say of the Vossian? Were the additional portions, which are
contained in the latter but wanting in the former, also written by the
saint, or are they later interpolations and additions? This is a much
more difficult question.
As a first step towards answering this question, we may observe that
there is one very strong reason for believing that the Vossian letters
cannot have been written after the middle of the second century. The
argument from silence has been so often abused, that one is almost
afraid to employ it at all. Yet here it seems to have a real value. The
writer of these letters, whoever he was, is evidently an orthodox
Catholic Christian, and at the same time a strong controversialist. It
is therefore a striking fact that he is altogether silent on the main
controversies which agitated the Church, and more especially the Church
of Asia Minor, in the middle and latter half of the second century.
There is not a word about Montanism or about the Paschal controversy. It
is difficult to believe that such a writer could have kept clear of
these 'burning' questions, if he had lived in the midst of them. Even
though his sense of historical propriety might have preserved him from
language involving a positive anachronism, he would have taken a
distinct side, and would have made his meaning clear by indirect means.
Again, there is nothing at all bearing on the great Gnostic heresies of
this age. The doctrines of the Marcionites, of the Valentinians, even of
the Basilideans (though Basilides flourished under Hadrian), are not
touched. On the contrary, the writer several times uses language which
an orthodox churchman, writing in the second half of the second century
or later, would almost certainly have avoided. Among other expressions
he salutes the Church of the Trallians 'in the _pleroma_'--an expression
which could not escape the taint of heresy when once Valentinus had
promulgated his system, of which the pleroma was the centre. Nor again,
is it likely that such a writer would have indulged in expressions
which, however innocent in themselves, would seem very distinctly to
countenance the Gnostic doctrine of the inherent evil of matter, as for
instance, where he says that he has not in him any 'matter-loving
([Greek: philoülon]) fire (of passion),' [85:1] and the like. The
bearing of these facts has (so far as I remember) been overlooked, and
yet it is highly important.