Constantine.--Part IV.
When Valerian was consul for the third, and Gallienus for the fourth
time, Paternus, proconsul of Africa, summoned Cyprian to appear in
his private council-chamber. He there acquainted him with the Imperial
mandate which he had just received, that those who had abandoned
the Roman religion should immediately return to the practice of the
ceremonies of their ancestors. Cyprian replied without hesitation, that
he was a Christian and a bishop, devoted to the worship of the true and
only Deity, to whom he offered up his daily supplications for the safety
and prosperity of the two emperors, his lawful sovereigns. With modest
confidence he pleaded the privilege of a citizen, in refusing to give
any answer to some invidious and indeed illegal questions which the
proconsul had proposed. A sentence of banishment was pronounced as the
penalty of Cyprian's disobedience; and he was conducted without delay
to Curubis, a free and maritime city of Zeugitania, in a pleasant
situation, a fertile territory, and at the distance of about forty miles
from Carthage. The exiled bishop enjoyed the conveniences of life and
the consciousness of virtue. His reputation was diffused over Africa and
Italy; an account of his behavior was published for the edification of
the Christian world; and his solitude was frequently interrupted by the
letters, the visits, and the congratulations of the faithful. On the
arrival of a new proconsul in the province the fortune of Cyprian
appeared for some time to wear a still more favorable aspect. He was
recalled from banishment; and though not yet permitted to return to
Carthage, his own gardens in the neighborhood of the capital were
assigned for the place of his residence.
At length, exactly one year after Cyprian was first apprehended,
Galerius Maximus, proconsul of Africa, received the Imperial warrant
for the execution of the Christian teachers. The bishop of Carthage was
sensible that he should be singled out for one of the first victims;
and the frailty of nature tempted him to withdraw himself, by a
secret flight, from the danger and the honor of martyrdom; * but soon
recovering that fortitude which his character required, he returned to
his gardens, and patiently expected the ministers of death. Two officers
of rank, who were intrusted with that commission, placed Cyprian between
them in a chariot, and as the proconsul was not then at leisure, they
conducted him, not to a prison, but to a private house in Carthage,
which belonged to one of them. An elegant supper was provided for the
entertainment of the bishop, and his Christian friends were permitted
for the last time to enjoy his society, whilst the streets were filled
with a multitude of the faithful, anxious and alarmed at the approaching
fate of their spiritual father. In the morning he appeared before the
tribunal of the proconsul, who, after informing himself of the name and
situation of Cyprian, commanded him to offer sacrifice, and pressed
him to reflect on the consequences of his disobedience. The refusal of
Cyprian was firm and decisive; and the magistrate, when he had taken the
opinion of his council, pronounced with some reluctance the sentence of
death. It was conceived in the following terms: "That Thascius Cyprianus
should be immediately beheaded, as the enemy of the gods of Rome, and as
the chief and ringleader of a criminal association, which he had seduced
into an impious resistance against the laws of the most holy emperors,
Valerian and Gallienus." The manner of his execution was the mildest
and least painful that could be inflicted on a person convicted of any
capital offence; nor was the use of torture admitted to obtain from
the bishop of Carthage either the recantation of his principles or the
discovery of his accomplices.
As soon as the sentence was proclaimed, a general cry of "We will die
with him," arose at once among the listening multitude of Christians who
waited before the palace gates. The generous effusions of their zeal
and their affection were neither serviceable to Cyprian nor dangerous
to themselves. He was led away under a guard of tribunes and centurions,
without resistance and without insult, to the place of his execution,
a spacious and level plain near the city, which was already filled with
great numbers of spectators. His faithful presbyters and deacons were
permitted to accompany their holy bishop. * They assisted him in
laying aside his upper garment, spread linen on the ground to catch
the precious relics of his blood, and received his orders to bestow
five-and-twenty pieces of gold on the executioner. The martyr then
covered his face with his hands, and at one blow his head was separated
from his body. His corpse remained during some hours exposed to
the curiosity of the Gentiles: but in the night it was removed, and
transported in a triumphal procession, and with a splendid illumination,
to the burial-place of the Christians. The funeral of Cyprian was
publicly celebrated without receiving any interruption from the Roman
magistrates; and those among the faithful, who had performed the last
offices to his person and his memory, were secure from the danger of
inquiry or of punishment. It is remarkable, that of so great a multitude
of bishops in the province of Africa, Cyprian was the first who was
esteemed worthy to obtain the crown of martyrdom.
It was in the choice of Cyprian, either to die a martyr, or to live an
apostate; but on the choice depended the alternative of honor or infamy.
Could we suppose that the bishop of Carthage had employed the profession
of the Christian faith only as the instrument of his avarice or
ambition, it was still incumbent on him to support the character he had
assumed; and if he possessed the smallest degree of manly fortitude,
rather to expose himself to the most cruel tortures, than by a single
act to exchange the reputation of a whole life, for the abhorrence of
his Christian brethren, and the contempt of the Gentile world. But if
the zeal of Cyprian was supported by the sincere conviction of the truth
of those doctrines which he preached, the crown of martyrdom must have
appeared to him as an object of desire rather than of terror. It is
not easy to extract any distinct ideas from the vague though eloquent
declamations of the Fathers, or to ascertain the degree of immortal
glory and happiness which they confidently promised to those who were
so fortunate as to shed their blood in the cause of religion. They
inculcated with becoming diligence, that the fire of martyrdom supplied
every defect and expiated every sin; that while the souls of ordinary
Christians were obliged to pass through a slow and painful purification,
the triumphant sufferers entered into the immediate fruition of eternal
bliss, where, in the society of the patriarchs, the apostles, and the
prophets, they reigned with Christ, and acted as his assessors in the
universal judgment of mankind. The assurance of a lasting reputation
upon earth, a motive so congenial to the vanity of human nature, often
served to animate the courage of the martyrs. The honors which Rome or
Athens bestowed on those citizens who had fallen in the cause of
their country, were cold and unmeaning demonstrations of respect, when
compared with the ardent gratitude and devotion which the primitive
church expressed towards the victorious champions of the faith. The
annual commemoration of their virtues and sufferings was observed as a
sacred ceremony, and at length terminated in religious worship. Among
the Christians who had publicly confessed their religious principles,
those who (as it very frequently happened) had been dismissed from the
tribunal or the prisons of the Pagan magistrates, obtained such honors
as were justly due to their imperfect martyrdom and their generous
resolution. The most pious females courted the permission of imprinting
kisses on the fetters which they had worn, and on the wounds which they
had received. Their persons were esteemed holy, their decisions were
admitted with deference, and they too often abused, by their spiritual
pride and licentious manners, the preeminence which their zeal and
intrepidity had acquired. Distinctions like these, whilst they display
the exalted merit, betray the inconsiderable number of those who
suffered, and of those who died, for the profession of Christianity.
The sober discretion of the present age will more readily censure than
admire, but can more easily admire than imitate, the fervor of the
first Christians, who, according to the lively expressions of
Sulpicius Severus, desired martyrdom with more eagerness than his
own contemporaries solicited a bishopric. The epistles which Ignatius
composed as he was carried in chains through the cities of Asia, breathe
sentiments the most repugnant to the ordinary feelings of human nature.
He earnestly beseeches the Romans, that when he should be exposed in
the amphitheatre, they would not, by their kind but unseasonable
intercession, deprive him of the crown of glory; and he declares his
resolution to provoke and irritate the wild beasts which might be
employed as the instruments of his death. Some stories are related
of the courage of martyrs, who actually performed what Ignatius had
intended; who exasperated the fury of the lions, pressed the executioner
to hasten his office, cheerfully leaped into the fires which were
kindled to consume them, and discovered a sensation of joy and pleasure
in the midst of the most exquisite tortures. Several examples have been
preserved of a zeal impatient of those restraints which the emperors
had provided for the security of the church. The Christians sometimes
supplied by their voluntary declaration the want of an accuser, rudely
disturbed the public service of paganism, and rushing in crowds round
the tribunal of the magistrates, called upon them to pronounce and to
inflict the sentence of the law. The behavior of the Christians was too
remarkable to escape the notice of the ancient philosophers; but they
seem to have considered it with much less admiration than astonishment.
Incapable of conceiving the motives which sometimes transported the
fortitude of believers beyond the bounds of prudence or reason, they
treated such an eagerness to die as the strange result of obstinate
despair, of stupid insensibility, or of superstitious frenzy. "Unhappy
men!" exclaimed the proconsul Antoninus to the Christians of Asia;
"unhappy men! if you are thus weary of your lives, is it so difficult
for you to find ropes and precipices?" He was extremely cautious (as it
is observed by a learned and pious historian) of punishing men who had
found no accusers but themselves, the Imperial laws not having made
any provision for so unexpected a case: condemning therefore a few as a
warning to their brethren, he dismissed the multitude with indignation
and contempt. Notwithstanding this real or affected disdain, the
intrepid constancy of the faithful was productive of more salutary
effects on those minds which nature or grace had disposed for the easy
reception of religious truth. On these melancholy occasions, there were
many among the Gentiles who pitied, who admired, and who were converted.
The generous enthusiasm was communicated from the sufferer to the
spectators; and the blood of martyrs, according to a well-known
observation, became the seed of the church.
But although devotion had raised, and eloquence continued to inflame,
this fever of the mind, it insensibly gave way to the more natural hopes
and fears of the human heart, to the love of life, the apprehension
of pain, and the horror of dissolution. The more prudent rulers of the
church found themselves obliged to restrain the indiscreet ardor of
their followers, and to distrust a constancy which too often abandoned
them in the hour of trial. As the lives of the faithful became less
mortified and austere, they were every day less ambitious of the honors
of martyrdom; and the soldiers of Christ, instead of distinguishing
themselves by voluntary deeds of heroism, frequently deserted their
post, and fled in confusion before the enemy whom it was their duty to
resist. There were three methods, however, of escaping the flames of
persecution, which were not attended with an equal degree of guilt:
first, indeed, was generally allowed to be innocent; the second was of
a doubtful, or at least of a venial, nature; but the third implied a
direct and criminal apostasy from the Christian faith.
I. A modern inquisitor would hear with surprise, that whenever an
information was given to a Roman magistrate of any person within his
jurisdiction who had embraced the sect of the Christians, the charge
was communicated to the party accused, and that a convenient time was
allowed him to settle his domestic concerns, and to prepare an answer to
the crime which was imputed to him. If he entertained any doubt of his
own constancy, such a delay afforded him the opportunity of preserving
his life and honor by flight, of withdrawing himself into some obscure
retirement or some distant province, and of patiently expecting the
return of peace and security. A measure so consonant to reason was soon
authorized by the advice and example of the most holy prelates; and
seems to have been censured by few except by the Montanists, who
deviated into heresy by their strict and obstinate adherence to the
rigor of ancient discipline. II. The provincial governors, whose zeal
was less prevalent than their avarice, had countenanced the practice of
selling certificates, (or libels, as they were called,) which attested,
that the persons therein mentioned had complied with the laws, and
sacrificed to the Roman deities. By producing these false declarations,
the opulent and timid Christians were enabled to silence the malice of
an informer, and to reconcile in some measure their safety with their
religion. A slight penance atoned for this profane dissimulation. * III.
In every persecution there were great numbers of unworthy Christians who
publicly disowned or renounced the faith which they had professed; and
who confirmed the sincerity of their abjuration, by the legal acts of
burning incense or of offering sacrifices. Some of these apostates had
yielded on the first menace or exhortation of the magistrate; whilst
the patience of others had been subdued by the length and repetition
of tortures. The affrighted countenances of some betrayed their inward
remorse, while others advanced with confidence and alacrity to the
altars of the gods. But the disguise which fear had imposed, subsisted
no longer than the present danger. As soon as the severity of the
persecution was abated, the doors of the churches were assailed by
the returning multitude of penitents who detested their idolatrous
submission, and who solicited with equal ardor, but with various
success, their readmission into the society of Christians.
IV. Notwithstanding the general rules established for the conviction
and punishment of the Christians, the fate of those sectaries, in an
extensive and arbitrary government, must still in a great measure, have
depended on their own behavior, the circumstances of the times, and
the temper of their supreme as well as subordinate rulers. Zeal might
sometimes provoke, and prudence might sometimes avert or assuage, the
superstitious fury of the Pagans. A variety of motives might dispose the
provincial governors either to enforce or to relax the execution of the
laws; and of these motives the most forcible was their regard not only
for the public edicts, but for the secret intentions of the emperor,
a glance from whose eye was sufficient to kindle or to extinguish
the flames of persecution. As often as any occasional severities were
exercised in the different parts of the empire, the primitive Christians
lamented and perhaps magnified their own sufferings; but the celebrated
number of ten persecutions has been determined by the ecclesiastical
writers of the fifth century, who possessed a more distinct view of the
prosperous or adverse fortunes of the church, from the age of Nero to
that of Diocletian. The ingenious parallels of the ten plagues of Egypt,
and of the ten horns of the Apocalypse, first suggested this calculation
to their minds; and in their application of the faith of prophecy to the
truth of history, they were careful to select those reigns which were
indeed the most hostile to the Christian cause. But these transient
persecutions served only to revive the zeal and to restore the
discipline of the faithful; and the moments of extraordinary rigor
were compensated by much longer intervals of peace and security. The
indifference of some princes, and the indulgence of others, permitted
the Christians to enjoy, though not perhaps a legal, yet an actual and
public, toleration of their religion.