were prepared to pay such a price for victory in the struggle with
themselves. Enthusiastic spirits, exalted with the prospect of earthly
peace and heavenly rewards promised to those who should preserve the
purity of virginity and live abstracted from the cares and pleasures
of family life, frequently took the vow of continence which had
already become customary. This vow as yet was purely voluntary. It
bound those who assumed it only during their own pleasure, nor were
they during its continuance, in any way segregated from the world. So
untrammelled, indeed, were their actions that Cyprian is forced to
rebuke the holy virgins for frequenting the public baths in which both
sexes indiscriminately exposed themselves, and he does not hesitate to
attribute to this cause much of the ruin and dishonor of its votaries
which afflicted the church.[53] Yet, this was by no means the severest
trial to which many of them subjected their constancy. Perhaps it was
to court spiritual martyrdom and to show to their admirers a virtue
robust enough to endure the most fiery trials, perhaps it was that they
found too late that they had overestimated their strength, and that
existence was a burden without the society of some beloved object—but,
whatever may have been the motive, it became a frequent custom to
associate themselves with congenial souls of the other sex, and form
Platonic unions in which they aspired to maintain the purity which they
had vowed to God. At the best, the sensible members of the church were
scandalized by these performances, which afforded so much scope for
the mockery of the heathen; but scandal frequently was justified, for
Nature often asserted her outraged rights to the shame and confusion
of the hapless votaries of an artificial and superhuman perfection.
Tertullian does not hesitate to assert that the desire of enjoying the
reputation of virginity led to much secret immorality, the effects of
which were concealed by resort to infanticide.[54] Cyprian chronicles,
not with surprise but sorrow, the numerous instances which he had known
of ruin resulting to those who had so fatally miscalculated their power
of resistance: with honest indignation he denounces the ecclesiastics
who abandoned themselves to practices which, if not absolutely
criminal, were brutally degrading: and with a degree of common-sense
hardly to be looked for in so warm an admirer of the perfection of
virginity, he advises that those whose weakness rendered doubtful the
strict observance of their vows should return to the world and satisfy
their longings in legitimate marriage.[55] The heresiarch Paul of
Samosata affords, perhaps, the most conspicuous example of the extent
to which these and similar practices were sometimes carried, and in
condemning him, the good fathers of the Council of Antioch lamented the
general prevalence of the evils thence arising.[56] Cyprian’s prudent
consideration for the weakness of human nature was as yet shared by the
ecclesiastical authorities. In the order of widows professed, which
was recognized by the early church, the Apostolic Constitutions enjoin
that none should be admitted below the age of sixty, in order to avoid
the danger of their infringing their vows by a second marriage, but the
writer is careful to add that such a marriage is not to be condemned
for itself, but only on account of the falsehood which it occasioned.
These widows and virgins were supported out of the tithes of the
church, and were, therefore, necessarily subjected to its control, so
that it is perfectly evident that there was nothing irrevocable in the
vows wherewith they were bound. The change is marked by the end of the
century, when widows who thus forsook their order were unrelentingly
and irrevocably condemned, deprived of communion, and expelled from
social intercourse.[57]
While the Christian world was thus agitated with the speculative
doctrines and practical observances of so many enthusiasts, heretical
and orthodox, who seemed to regard the relations between the sexes as
the crucial test and most trustworthy exponent of religious ardor, a
new dogma arose in the East and advanced with a rapidity which shows
how much progress the ascetic spirit had already made, and how ripe
were the unsettled minds of zealots to welcome whatever system of
belief promised to trample most ruthlessly upon nature, and to render
the path of salvation inaccessible to all save those capable of the
sternest self-mortification. Towards the end of the third century, the
Persian Manes made his advent in the Empire, proclaiming himself as
the Paraclete and as a new and higher Apostle. Though his career as
an envoy of Christ was stoutly resisted by the orthodox, and though,
after a chequered life, he was flayed alive, and his followers in
Persia were slaughtered by Varahran I.,[58] his western disciples were
more fortunate, and the hateful name of Manichæan acquired a sinister
notoriety which maintained its significance for a thousand years.
His system was a compound of several faiths, and though it failed in
its comprehensive design to bring all mankind together in one form
of belief, it yet had features which won for it the enthusiastic
adhesion of men of diverse races. The way was already prepared for its
reception among both Gentiles and Christians by the prevalence on the
one hand of the Mithraic worship, and on the other of Gnosticism. The
Dualistic theory was attractive to those who were disheartened in the
vain attempt to reconcile the existence of evil with an omnipotent
and all-merciful Creator; the Platonic identity of the soul with the
Godhead was a recommendation to the schoolmen; the Brahmanical and
Buddhist views as to abstinence from meat and marriage won adherents
among the remains of the ascetic sects, and were acceptable even to
those among the orthodox who were yielding to the increasing influence
of asceticism. The fierce temporal persecution of the still Pagan
emperors, and the unavailing anathemas of the church, as yet confined
to mere spiritual censures, seemed only to give fresh impetus to the
proselyting energy of the Elect, and to scatter the seed more widely
among the faithful. After this period we hear but little of the earlier
ascetic heresies; the system of Manes, as moulded by his followers,
was so much more complete, that it swallowed up its prototypes and
rivals, and concentrated upon itself the vindictiveness of a combined
church and state. So thorough was this identification that in 381 an
edict of Theodosius the Great directed against the Manichæans assumes
that the sects of Encratitæ, Apotactitæ, Hydroparastitæ, and Saccofori
were merely nominal disguises adopted to elude detection.[59]
That Manichæism, in fact, exercised a substantial influence over
orthodoxy is shown in other directions besides that of asceticism. It
can scarce be doubted that the expansion of the penitential remission
of sins into the system of purchasable indulgences received a powerful
impulsion from the precedent set by Manes; and the denunciations
of Ephraem Syrus form a fitting precursor to those of Luther. In
the same way the Eucharist was diverted from its original form of a
substantial meal—one of the means by which the charity of the church
was administered to the poor—into the symbolical wafer and wine
which assimilated it so closely to the Izeshne sacrifice, the most
frequent Mazdean rite, and one which, like the Mass, was customarily
performed for the benefit of departed souls.[60] Manes, in combining
Mazdeism with Christianity, had adopted the Eucharist in the Mazdean
form, and had confined the use of the cup to the priesthood; and this
lay communion in one element became so well recognized as a test of
Manichæism that Leo the Great ordered the excommunication of all who
received the sacrament after that fashion.[61] It may therefore be
remarked as a curious coincidence that when Manichæism was revived by
the Albigenses, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the church,
which until then had preserved its ancient custom, adopted the lay
communion in one element and adhered to it so rigidly that, as we
shall see hereafter, not even the dread of the Hussite schism nor the
earnest requests of those who remained faithful during the perils of
the Reformation, could induce it to grant the cup to the laity. Lay
communion in one element drew a line of distinction between the priest
and his flock which the former would not willingly abandon.
Although, in the region of asceticism, the church might not be willing
to adopt the Manichæan doctrine that man’s body is the work of the Evil
Principle, and that the Soul as partaking of the substance of God was
engaged in an eternal war with it, and should thus abuse and mortify
it[62], yet the general tendencies of the religious enthusiasm of the
time made the practical result common to all, and there can be no doubt
that the spreading belief in Manes exercised a powerful influence in
accelerating the progress of orthodox asceticism. The fact that as
yet the church was persecuted and had no power of imposing its yoke
on others bound it to the necessity of maintaining its character for
superior sanctity and virtue; and ardent believers could not afford to
let themselves be outdone by heretics in the austerities which were
popularly received as the conclusive evidence of religious sincerity.
We may therefore easily imagine a rivalry in asceticism which,
however unconscious, may yet have powerfully stimulated the stern and
unbending souls of such men as St. Antony, Malchus, and Hilarion, even
as Tertullian, after combating the errors of Montanus, adopted and
exaggerated his ascetic heresies. It would be easy to show from the
hagiologies how soon the church virtually assented to the Manichæan
notion that the body was to be mortified and macerated as the only
mode of triumphing in the perennial struggle with the evil principle,
but this would be foreign to our subject. It is sufficient for us here
to indicate how narrowly in process of time she escaped from adopting
practically, if not theoretically, the Manichæan condemnation of
marriage. This is clearly demonstrated by the writings of the orthodox
Fathers, who in their extravagant praise of virginity could not escape
from decrying wedlock. It was stigmatized as the means of transmitting
and perpetuating original sin, an act which necessarily entailed sin
on its participants, and one which at best could only look for mercy
and pardon and be allowed only on sufferance. It is therefore not
surprising if those who were not prepared to join in the progress of
asceticism should habitually stigmatize the mortifications of their
more enthusiastic brethren as Manichæism in spirit if not in name.
Jovinian, it would seem, did not neglect this ready means of attack;
nor was he alone, for Jerome complains that the worldly and dissolute
sheltered themselves behind the same excuse, and derided as Manichæans
all who were pallid and faint from maceration and fasting.[63] The
comparison, indeed, became a not untruthful one, when the Christian
and the heretic both adopted the plan of restricting their sacred
class from the pleasures of the world—when the Manichæan Elect, who
remained unmarried and fasted upon vegetable food, were equivalent
to the priesthood, while the Auditors, to whom a larger liberty was
allowed, represented the orthodox laity. It is by no means improbable
that the tenets of the Manichæans have been exaggerated by their
opponents in controversy, and that in process of time, when the church
became avowedly ascetic, there was practically little difference on
this point between Manichæism and Orthodoxy. St. Augustin, indeed,
represents the Manichæan Faustus as arguing that both in doctrine and
practice his sect only followed the example of the church. He ridicules
the idea that it could prohibit marriage, and asserts positively that
it only encouraged those who manifested a desire to persevere in
continence. If this is to be received as an authentic exposition of
Manichæan principles, it will be seen that the church was not long in
outstripping the heretics.[64]
In fact, even as early as the time of Cyprian, that saint, in allusion
to the parable of the sower, had rated the comparative merits of
martyrdom to virginity as one hundred to sixty; while, after martyrdom
had gone out of fashion, St. Patrick, in the fifth century, undertook
a more elaborate classification in which bishops and doctors of the
church, monks and virgins, were rated at one hundred, ecclesiastics in
general and widows professed at sixty, while the faithful laity stand
only at thirty.[65] It was therefore a heresy for Jovinian to claim
equal merit for maidens, wives, and widows; and though St. Jerome, in
controverting this, commenced by carefully denying any intentional
disrespect towards marriage, still his controversial ardor carried
him so far in that direction, that he aroused considerable feeling
among reasonable men and was obliged formally and repeatedly to excuse
himself. His contempt for marriage, indeed, was so extreme that in
spite of the recognized primacy of St. Peter, he considered that
apostle as decidedly inferior to St. John, because the one had a wife
and the other was a virgin—apparently not observing that, as he denied
the marriage of all the apostles save Peter, he was thus relegating the
head of the church to the last place among the holy twelve.[66] St.
Augustin recognized the difficulty of reconciling the current views of
his time with the necessities of humanity when he wrote a treatise for
the purpose of proving the difference between the good of marriage and
the evil of carnal desire, which, while it perpetuated the species,
likewise perpetuated original sin; and he gave a signal example of the
manner in which enthusiastic asceticism sought to improve upon the work
of the Creator when he uttered the pious wish that all mankind should
abstain from marriage, so that the human race might the sooner come to
an end.[67] St. Martin of Tours was somewhat less extravagant when he
was willing to admit that marriage was pardonable, while licentiousness
was punishable and virginity glorious; and he was far behind the
enthusiasts of his time, for, while he deplores the miserable folly of
those who consider marriage to be equal to virginity, he is likewise
obliged to reprove the error of those who were willing only to compare
it to lechery—the former belief being evidently much more erroneous
than the latter in the Saint’s estimation.[68] So a treatise on
chastity, which passes under the name of Sixtus III., barely admits
that married people can earn eternal life; and it apparently is only
the dread of being classed with Manichæans that leads the author to
shrink from the conclusions of his own reasoning, and to state that
he does not absolutely condemn wedlock or prohibit it to those who
cannot restrain their passions.[69] Not a little Manichæan in its
tendency is a declaration of Gregory the Great to Augustin the Apostle
of England that connubial pleasures cannot possibly be free from sin;
and quite as decided is another assertion of the same Pope that the
strictness of monastic life is the only possible mode of salvation
for the greater portion of mankind.[70] It was the natural practical
deduction from this which is drawn by the Penitential of Theodore,
when it commands those who contract a first marriage to abstain from
entering a church for thirty days, after which they are to perform
penance for forty more; while a digamus is subjected to penance for a
year, and a trigamus, or one oftener married, for seven years.[71] When
marriage was thus regarded as a sin, we can scarcely be surprised at
the practical Manichæism of Epiphanius who declares that the church is
based upon virginity as on its corner-stone.[72]
This ascetic development, however, was not destined to triumph
without occasional efforts at repression. At the close of the third
century, the highest authorities of the church still condemned the
ruthless asceticism, which was subsequently glorified as the loftiest
achievement of Christian virtue. Thus in the Apostolic Constitutions,
the influence of Manichæism and its kindred sects is as yet only
manifested by the opposition aroused to their doctrines; and the
necessity of that opposition is indicated by the careful and repeated
declaration of the purity and sanctity of the marriage-tie, both as
regards the priesthood and the laity. Not less instructive is the bare
toleration almost grudgingly extended to vows of celibacy, and the
cautious restriction which declares that such vows are not to be held
as justifying a disparagement of matrimony.[73] No stronger contrast
can be looked for than that produced by little more than a century
between the rational piety of these provisions and the extravagant
rhapsodies of Jerome, Augustin, and Martin. The calm good sense of
Lactantius also takes occasion to reprove the extravagance which
regarded all indulgence of the natural affections as a sin requiring
repentance and pardon. He assumes indeed that perpetual continence,
as being opposed to the law of nature, is not recommended, but only
permitted by the Creator, thus reversing the maxims of the zealots.[74]
Equally suggestive are the Apostolic Canons. The sixth of these
pronounces deposition on the bishop or priest who separates himself
from his wife under pretext of religion; while the fiftieth threatens
equally rigorous punishment on the clerk or layman who shall abstain
from marriage, from wine, or from meat, not for the purpose of devoting
himself to piety, but on account of holding them in abomination—such
belief being a slander on the goodness of God, and a calumny on the
perfection of His works.[75] Even a hundred years later there is still
an occasional protest to be heard, showing how the more moderate
section of the church still felt the danger to which she was exposed by
intemperate ascetic zeal, and how narrow was the path which she had to
trace between orthodoxy and heresy. The Fourth Council of Carthage, in
398, prescribing the examination to which all bishops-elect were to be
subjected, specifies for inquiry among other points of faith questions
as to whether the candidate disapproves of marriage, or condemns second
marriages, or prohibits the use of meat.[76] It shows how readily
Manichæism or Catharism might lurk in the asceticism of the most devout.
The tide, however, was fairly on the flood, and the resistance of
the more reasonable among ecclesiastics was unavailing. It is true,
that the influences which were now so powerful could evidently not
be applied to the whole body of believers, as they would only result
in gradual extinction or in lawless licentiousness; but as the
ecclesiastical body was perpetuated by a kind of spiritual generation,
it could, without hazarding a decrease of numbers, be subjected to
regulations which should render obligatory the asceticism which as
yet had been optional. The only wonder, in fact, is that this had
not been earlier attempted. Such a rule, by widening the distinction
between laymen and ecclesiastics, would be grateful to the growing
sacerdotalism which ere long was to take complete possession of the
church. Such a rule, moreover, was not only indicated by the examples
of Buddhism and Manichæism, but had abundant precedent among the Pagans
of the Empire. More than one passage in classical writers show that
abstinence from women was regarded as an essential prerequisite to
certain religious observances, and the existence of this feeling among
the primitive Christians, based upon the injunction of Ahimelech, is
indicated by St. Paul[77]—and this custom, as sacerdotalism developed,
and formalism rendered the life of the minister of the altar a
ceaseless round of daily service, would practically separate husband
and wife. Moreover, much of the Pagan worship subjected its officials
to general restrictions of greater or less severity. Diodorus Siculus
states that the Egyptian priests were permitted to have but one wife,
although unlimited polygamy was allowed to the people; while Chæremon
the Stoic, according to St. Jerome, and Plutarch indicate that they
were obliged to observe entire continence. The castration of the Galli,
the priests of Rhea at Hierapolis, though explained by the myth of
Attys, was evidently only a survival of the fierce asceticism which
counterbalanced the licentiousness of the older Phenician worship.
The rites of the Gaditanian Hercules were conducted by ministers
obliged to observe chastity, and the foot of woman was not permitted
to pollute the sacred precincts of the temple; while the priestesses
of Gea Eurysternus at Ægæ were required to preserve the strictest
celibacy.[78] The hierophants of Demeter in Athens, were obliged to
maintain unsullied continence. The priestesses of the Delphic Apollo,
the Achaian Hera, the Scythian Artemis, and the Thespian Heracles
were virgins. In Africa, those of Ceres were separated from their
husbands with a rigor of asceticism which forbade even a kiss to their
orphaned children; while in Rome the name of Vestal has passed into a
proverb, although it is true that while they were only six or seven in
number, the distinguished honors and privileges accorded to them were
insufficient to induce parents to devote them to the holy service, and
there was difficulty in keeping the ranks filled.[79]
The earliest recorded attempt by the church to imitate these
restrictions, was made in 305 by the Spanish council of Elvira, which
declared, in the most positive manner, that all concerned in the
ministry of the altar should maintain entire abstinence from their
wives under pain of forfeiting their positions. It further endeavored
to put an end to the scandals of the Agapetæ, or female companions
of the clergy, which the rigor of this canon was so well fitted to
increase, by decreeing that no ecclesiastic should permit any woman to
dwell with him, except a sister or a daughter, and even these only
when bound by a vow of virginity.[80] This was simply the legislation
of a local synod, and its canons were not entitled to respect or
obedience beyond the limits of the churches directly represented. Its
action may not improbably be attributed to the commanding influence
of one of its leading members, Osius, Bishop of Cordova, and that
action had no result in inducing the church at large to adopt the new
rule, for some ten years later were held the more important councils
of Ancyra and Neocæsarea, and the absence of any allusion to it in
their proceedings seems to fix for us the discipline of the period in
this respect, at least in the East. By the canons of Ancyra we learn
that marriage in orders was still permitted, as far as the diaconate,
provided the postulant at the time of ordination declared his desire to
enjoy the privilege and asserted his inability to remain single. This
is even less stringent than the rule quoted above from the Apostolic
Constitutions, and proves incontestably that there was no thought of
imposing any restriction upon the intercourse between the married
clergy and their wives. By the council of Neocæsarea it was provided
that a priest marrying in orders should be deposed, but a heavier
punishment was reserved for what was then, in reverse of the standard
of later times, regarded as the greater sin of licentiousness. That no
interference was intended by this with the relations existing between
those who had married in the lower grades and their wives, is shown by
another canon which deprives of his functions any priest who submitted
to the commission of adultery by his wife without separating from
her—being a practical extension of the Levitical rule, now by common
consent adopted as a portion of ecclesiastical discipline.[81] Yet,
even in the East, there was a growing tendency to more rigid asceticism
than this, for, about the same period, we find Eusebius stating that it
is becoming in those who are engaged in the ministry of God, to abstain
from their wives, though his argument in justification of this is
based upon the multiplicity of occupation, which in civilized society
rendered it desirable for those enlisted in the service of the church
to be relieved from family cares and anxieties.[82]
III.
THE COUNCIL OF NICÆA.