Produced by Paul Dring, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
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[Illustration: Map illustrating the HISTORY OF THE CHURCH, during the
First Six Centuries.]
SKETCHES
OF
CHURCH HISTORY.
_From_ A.D. 33 _to the Reformation_.
BY THE LATE
REV. J. C. ROBERTSON, M.A.
CANON OF CANTERBURY.
PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE TRACT COMMITTEE.
LONDON:
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,
NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, CHARING CROSS, W.C.
43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.C.
26, ST. GEORGE'S PLACE, HYDE PARK CORNER, S.W.
BRIGHTON: 135, NORTH STREET.
NEW YORK: E. & J. B. YOUNG & CO.
1887.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
CHAP. PAGE
1. The Age of the Apostles 1
2. St. Ignatius 5
3. St. Justin, Martyr 10
4. St. Polycarp 13
5. The Martyrs of Lyons and Vienne 15
6. Tertullian--Perpetua and her Companions 17
7. Origen 21
8. St Cyprian--Part I. 25
" Part II. 27
" Part III. 29
9. The Last Persecution 31
10. Constantine the Great 38
11. The Council of Nicaea 43
12. St. Athanasius--Part I. 47
" Part II. 51
" Part III. 54
13. The Monks 59
14. St. Basil and St. Gregory of Nazianzum--Part I. 67
" " " Part II. 70
15. St. Ambrose 73
16. The Temple of Serapis 77
17. Church Government 80
18. Christian Worship--Part I. 85
" " Part II. 87
" " Part III. 90
19. Arcadius and Honorius 93
20. St. John Chrysostom--Part I. 95
" " Part II. 100
" " Part III. 103
" " Part IV. 105
21. St. Augustine--Part I. 108
" Part II. 111
" Part III. (Donatism) 114
" Part IV. " 118
" Part V. " 120
" Part VI. (Pelagianism) 124
" Part VII. " 127
22. Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon 128
23. Fall of the Western Empire 131
24. Conversion of the Barbarians--Christianity in Britain 133
25. Scotland and Ireland 136
26. Clovis 140
27. Justinian 142
28. Nestorians and Monophysites 144
29. St. Benedict--Part I. 147
" Part II. 150
30. End of the Sixth Century--Part I. 152
" " Part II. 154
31. St. Gregory the Great--Part I. 156
" " Part II. 159
" " Part III. 160
" " Part IV. 163
PART II.
1. Mahometanism--Image-worship 169
2. The Church in England 171
3. St. Boniface 173
4. Pipin and Charles the Great--Part I. 177
" " Part II. 179
5. Decay of Charles the Great's Empire 181
6. State of the Papacy 184
7. Missions of the Ninth and Tenth Centuries 185
8. Pope Gregory VII.--Part I. 191
" Part II. 193
" Part III. 194
" Part IV. 196
9. The First Crusade--Part I. 198
" Part II. 201
" Part III. 204
10. New Orders of Monks--Military Orders 205
11. St. Bernard--Part I. 211
" Part II. 213
12. Adrian IV.--Alexander III.--Becket--The Third Crusade 214
13. Innocent III.--Part I. 217
" Part II. 220
" Part III. 223
" Part IV. 225
14. Frederick II--St. Lewis of France--Part I. 228
" " " Part II. 229
" " " Part III. 230
15. Peter of Murrone 232
16. Boniface VIII.--Part I. 235
" Part II. 236
17. The Popes at Avignon--The Ruin of the Templars--Part I. 239
" " " Part II. 241
18. The Popes at Avignon (_continued_) 245
19. Religious Parties 247
20. John Wyclif 249
21. The Popes return to Rome 252
22. The Great Schism 254
23. John Huss 256
24. The Council of Constance--Part I. 258
" " Part II. 260
" " Part III. 261
25. The Hussites 263
26. Councils of Basel and Florence 265
27. Nicolas V. and Pius II. 268
28. Jerome Savonarola--Part I. 271
" " Part II. 273
29. Julius II. and Leo X. 275
30. Missions--The Inquisition 277
TABLE OF DATES.
PART I.
A.D. PAGE
33. Descent of the Holy Ghost on the Day of Pentecost 1
62. Martyrdom of St. James the Less 3
64. Persecution by Nero begins 2
68. Martyrdom of St. Peter and St. Paul 2
70. Destruction of Jerusalem by Titus 3
95. Persecution by Domitian 3
100. Death of St. John 5
116. Martyrdom of Ignatius 9
166. Martyrdoms of Justin and Polycarp 10-15
168. Montanus publishes his heresy 17
177. Persecution at Lyons and Vienne 15
190. Tertullian flourishes 18
202. Persecution by Severus begins 18
-- Martyrdom of Origen's father 21
206. Martyrdom of Perpetua and her companions 18
248. Cyprian, bishop of Carthage 25
249. Persecution by Decius 23
251. Paul, the first hermit 60
-- Troubles at Carthage--Novatian separates from the Church 27
253. Plague at Carthage 27
254. Death of Origen 24
-- Disagreement between Cyprian and Stephen, bishop of Rome 29
257. Persecution by Valerian 29
258. Martyrdom of Cyprian 31
260. Conversion of the Goths begins 40
261. Valerian taken prisoner in Persia--Gallienus allows liberty
to the Christians 32
270. Manes publishes his heresy 110
298. Diocletian requires soldiers, &c., to worship the heathen
gods 33
303. The last general persecution begins 34
311. Separation of the Donatists from the Church 44, 116
313. End of the persecution--Constantine and Licinius give
liberty to the Christians 38
314. Council of Arles about the affairs of the Donatists 117
319. Arius begins to publish his heresy 44
324. Constantine defeats Licinius, and declares himself a
Christian 38
325. The First General Council held at Nicaea--Arius
condemned--The Nicene Creed made 46
326. Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria 47
335. Council of Tyre 48
-- Athanasius banished to Treves 49
336. Death of Arius 50
337. Death of Constantine 51
338. Athanasius restored to his see 52
341. Second banishment of Athanasius 52
343. Persecution in Persia 41
347. Revolt, defeat, and banishment of the Donatists 117
348. Ulfilas, bishop of the Goths 93
349. Second return of St. Athanasius 52
356. Third exile of Athanasius 53
-- Death of Antony the hermit 61
361. Julian, emperor--Paganism restored 57
362. The Donatists recalled 120
-- Athanasius restored, but again banished 56
-- Attempt to rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem 57
363. Death of Julian 58
370. Basil, bishop of Caesarea, in Cappadocia 68
372. Gregory of Nazianzum consecrated as bishop of Sasima 69
373. Death of Athanasius 59
374. Ambrose, bishop of Milan 73
378. Gregory of Nazianzum goes to Constantinople 69
379. Theodosius, emperor 70
380. Gregory, bishop of Constantinople--Death of Basil 70
381. Second General Council held at Constantinople--Gregory
withdraws from his see 70
385. Execution of Priscillian 72
387. Baptism of Augustine 113
-- Sedition at Antioch 97
390. Massacre at Thessalonica, and repentance of Theodosius 75
391. Destruction of the Temple of Serapis 78
395. Death of Theodosius 77
-- Augustine, bishop of Hippo 114
397. Death of Ambrose 77
-- Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople 100
400. Pelagius teaches his heresy at Rome 124
403. Death of Telemachus at Rome 95
-- Council of the Oak--Chrysostom banished and recalled 105
404. Chrysostom banished to Cucusus 106
407. Death of Chrysostom 107
409. The Romans withdraw from Britain 135
410. Rome taken by Alaric 93
-- Pelagius and Celestius in Africa 125
411. Conference with the Donatists at Carthage 122
412. Ninian, bishop of Whithorn 136
415. Councils in the Holy Land as to Pelagius 126
429. Pelagianism put down in Britain by German and Lupus 135
430. Death of Augustine 128
431. Third General Council held at Ephesus--Condemnation of
Nestorius 129
432. Death of Ninian--Patrick goes into Ireland 136
449. Council, known as "The Meeting of Robbers," at Ephesus 129
-- Landing of the Saxons in England 136
451. Fourth General Council held at Chalcedon--Condemnation
of Eutyches 129
-- Attila in France--Deliverance of Orleans 131
452. Attila in Italy 132
455. Rome plundered by Genseric 132
476. End of the Western Empire 133
464-519. Separation between the Churches of Rome and
Constantinople 144
493. Death of Patrick 138
496. Conversion of Clovis 141
527. Justinian, emperor 142
529. The heathen schools of Athens shut up 143
-- Benedict draws up his Rule for monks 149
541. Jacob, leader of the Monophysites 145
553. Fifth General Council held at Constantinople 145
565. Columba settles at Iona 139
-- Death of Justinian 142
589. Third Council of Toledo--The Spanish Church renounces
Arianism 134
-- Columban goes into France 139
590. Gregory the Great, bishop of Rome 155
596. Mission of Augustine to England 163
597. Landing of Augustine in England--Conversion of Ethelbert 164
604. Deaths of Gregory and Augustine 166
PART II.
589-615. Missionary labours of St. Columban 205
612. Mahomet begins to publish his religion 169
627. Jerusalem taken by the Mussulmans 169
632. Death of Mahomet 169
635. Settlement of Scottish missionaries in Holy Island 172
664. Council of Whitby 172
724. Beginning of controversy as to images 170
732. Victory of Charles Martel over the Saracens 174
734. Death of the Venerable Bede 173
715-755. Missionary labours of St. Boniface 174
752. Pipin becomes king of the Franks 177
787. Second Council of Nicaea 180
794. Council of Frankfort 180
800. Charles the Great crowned as emperor 178
-- (about). Forgery of Constantine's donation 192
814. Death of Charles the Great 181
826-865. Missionary labours of Anskar 187
846 (about). Forgery of the False Decretals 192
860-870. Conversion of Bulgarians, Moravians, Bohemians, &c. 185
912. Foundation of the Order of Cluny 206
962. Otho I., emperor 183
988. Conversion of Basil, great prince of Russia 188
999. Sylvester II., pope 184
994-1030. Conversion of Norwegians 189
1046. Council of Sutri 185
1048. Pope Leo IX.--Beginning of Hildebrand's influence over
the papacy 193
1073. Hildebrand elected pope (Gregory VII.) 193
1074. Foundation of the Carthusian Order 207
1085. Death of Gregory VII. 197
1098. Foundation of the Cistercian Order 208
1099. Jerusalem taken in the First Crusade 202
1113. Order of St. John (or Hospitallers) founded 209
1116. Order of the Temple founded 210
1123. Agreement between the pope and the emperor at Worms 198
1147-1149. The Second Crusade 213
1153. Death of St. Bernard 214
1154. Nicolas Breakspeare, an Englishman, chosen pope
(Adrian IV.) 214
1170. Murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket 216
1189. The Third Crusade 217
1198. Innocent III. elected pope 218
1203. Constantinople taken by Crusaders 222
1208. England put under an interdict 219
1208-1229. War against the Albigenses 223
1215. Fourth Council of the Lateran--Innocent sanctions the
Dominican and Franciscan Orders of Mendicant Friars 227
1240. First Crusade of St. Lewis 230
1270. Second Crusade and death of St. Lewis 231
1274. Second Council of Lyons 232
1294. Election of Pope Celestine V. 233
---- Election of Pope Boniface VIII. 235
1300. Boniface celebrates the first jubilee 235
1303. Death of Boniface 239
1310. The popes settle at Avignon 240
1312. Council of Vienne--The Order of the Temple dissolved 243
1377. Gregory XI. removes the papacy from Avignon to Rome 253
1378. Beginning of the Great Schism of the West 254
1384. Death of John Wyclif 251
1414-1418. Council of Constance 258
1415. Pope John XXIII. deposed 260
---- John Huss burnt by order of the Council 261
1417. Election of Pope Martin V., and end of the Schism 262
1418. Religious war of Bohemia breaks out 264
1431. Council of Basel opened 265
1438. Council of Ferrara and Florence 267
1453. Constantinople taken by the Turks 268
1455. Invention of Printing 269
1464. Pope Pius II. vainly attempts a crusade 270
1498. Death of Savonarola 274
1503. Death of Pope Alexander VI. 275
1517. Appearance of Martin Luther as a reformer 276
EXPLANATION OF THE MAP.
(_To be read after Chapter XXII._)
The Map is meant to give the names of such places only as are mentioned
in the History.
The bounds of the patriarchates of Constantinople, Antioch, and
Jerusalem are marked as they were settled at the Council of Chalcedon,
in the year 451.
Only the northern part of the Alexandrian patriarchate is seen, as the
Map does not reach far enough to take in Abyssinia, which belonged to
it.
At the time of the Council of Nicaea (A.D. 325) the bishop of Rome's
patriarchate was confined to the middle and the south of Italy, with the
Islands of Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica. It afterwards grew by degrees,
until at length it took in all the countries of the west, although it
had lost Illyricum, which was once a part of it. But this was not until
long after the time to which our little book relates, and in the
meanwhile its extent varied very much. The reason why its bounds, at the
time of the Council of Chalcedon, or in the days of Gregory the Great,
cannot well be marked in a map is, that in some countries the bishops of
Rome had much _influence_, but had not _power_. They gave _advice_ to
the bishops of Gaul (or France), Spain, and Africa, and sometimes
ventured to give them _directions_. But they could not make the bishops
of those countries obey their directions, and had not _authority_ over
them in the same way as the patriarchs of Constantinople, Alexandria,
Antioch, or Jerusalem had over the bishops within their patriarchates.
To mark such countries as belonging to the Roman patriarchate would be
too much; to mark them as if they had no connexion with it would be too
little.
SKETCHES
OF
CHURCH HISTORY.
CHAPTER I.
THE AGE OF THE APOSTLES.
FROM A.D. 33 TO A.D. 100.
The beginning of the Christian Church is reckoned from the great day on
which the Holy Ghost came down, according as our Lord had promised to
His Apostles. At that time, "Jews, devout men, out of every nation under
heaven," were gathered together at Jerusalem, to keep the Feast of
Pentecost (or Feast of Weeks), which was one of the three holy seasons
at which God required His people to appear before Him in the place which
He had chosen (_Deuteronomy_ xvi. 16). Many of these devout men were
converted, by what they then saw and heard, to believe the Gospel; and,
when they returned to their own countries, they carried back with them
the news of the wonderful things which had taken place at Jerusalem.
After this, the Apostles went forth "into all the world," as their
Master had ordered them, to "preach the Gospel to every creature" (_St.
Mark_ xvi. 15). The Book of Acts tells us something of what they did,
and we may learn something more about it from the Epistles. And,
although this be but a small part of the whole, it will give us a notion
of the rest, if we consider that, while St. Paul was preaching in Asia
Minor, in Greece, and at Rome, the other Apostles were busily doing the
same work in other countries.
We must remember, too, the constant coming and going which in those days
took place throughout the world; how Jews from all quarters went up to
keep the passover and other feasts at Jerusalem; how the great Roman
empire stretched from our own island of Britain as far as Persia and
Ethiopia, and people from all parts of it were continually going to Rome
and returning. We must consider how merchants travelled from country to
country on account of their trade; how soldiers were sent into all
quarters of the empire, and were moved about from one country to
another. And from these things we may get some understanding of the way
in which the knowledge of the Gospel would be spread, when once it had
taken root in the great cities of Jerusalem and Rome. Thus it came to
pass, that, by the end of the first hundred years after our Saviour's
birth, something was known of the Christian faith throughout all the
Roman empire, and even in countries beyond it; and if in many cases,
only a very little was known, still even that was a gain, and served as
a preparation for more.
The last chapter of the Acts leaves St. Paul at Rome, waiting for his
trial on account of the things which the Jews had laid to his charge. We
find from the Epistles that he afterwards got his liberty, and returned
into the East. There is reason to suppose that he also visited Spain, as
he had spoken of doing in his Epistle to the Romans (ch. xv. 28); and it
has been thought by some that he even preached in Britain; but this does
not seem likely. He was at last imprisoned again at Rome, where the
wicked Emperor Nero persecuted the Christians very cruelly; and it is
believed that both St. Peter and St. Paul were put to death there in the
year of our Lord 68. The bishops of Rome afterwards set up claims to
great power and honour, because they said that St. Peter was the first
bishop of their church, and that they were his successors. But although
we may reasonably believe that the Apostle was martyred at Rome, there
does not appear to be any good ground for thinking that he had been
settled there as bishop of the city.
All the Apostles, except St. John, are supposed to have been martyred
(or put to death for the sake of the Gospel). St. James the Less, who
was bishop of Jerusalem, was killed by the Jews in an uproar, about the
year 62. Soon after this, the Romans sent their armies into Judea, and,
after a bloody war, they took the city of Jerusalem, destroyed the
Temple, and scattered the Jews all over the earth. Thus the Jews were
punished, as our Lord had foretold, for the great sin of which they had
been guilty in refusing to believe in Him, and in putting Him to death.
Thirty years after Nero's time another cruel emperor, Domitian, raised a
fresh persecution against the Christians (A.D. 95). Among those who
suffered were some of his own near relations; for the Gospel had now
made its way among the great people of the earth, as well as among the
poor, who were the first to listen to it. There is a story that the
emperor was told that some persons of the family of David were living in
the Holy Land, and that he sent for them, because he was afraid lest the
Jews should set them up as princes, and should rebel against his
government. They were two grandchildren of St. Jude, who was one of our
Lord's kinsmen after the flesh, and therefore belonged to the house of
David and the old kings of Judah. But these two were plain countrymen,
who lived quietly and contentedly on their little farm, and were not
likely to lead a rebellion, or to claim earthly kingdoms. And when they
were carried before the emperor, they showed him their hands, which were
rough and horny from working in the fields; and in answer to his
questions about the kingdom of Christ, they said that it was not of this
world, but spiritual and heavenly, and that it would appear at the end
of the world, when the Saviour would come again to judge both the quick
and the dead. So the emperor saw that there was nothing to fear from
them, and he let them go.
It was during Domitian's persecution that St. John was banished to the
island of Patmos, where he saw the visions which are described in his
"Revelation." All the other Apostles had been long dead, and St. John
had lived many years at Ephesus, where he governed the churches of the
country around. After his return from Patmos he went about to all these
churches, that he might repair the hurt which they had suffered in the
persecution. In one of the towns which he visited, he noticed a young
man of very pleasing looks, and called him forward, and desired the
bishop of the place to take care of him. The bishop did so, and, after
having properly trained the youth, he baptised and confirmed him. But
when this had been done, the bishop thought that he need not watch over
him so carefully as before; and the young man fell into vicious company,
and went on from bad to worse, until at length he became the head of a
band of robbers, who kept the whole country in terror. When the Apostle
next visited the town, he asked after the charge which he had put into
the bishop's hands. The bishop, with shame and grief, answered that the
young man was dead, and, on being further questioned, he explained that
he meant _dead in sins_, and told all the story. St. John, after having
blamed him because he had not taken more care, asked where the robbers
were to be found, and set off on horseback for their haunt, where he was
seized by some of the band, and was carried before the captain. The
young man, on seeing him, knew him at once, and could not bear his look,
but ran away to hide himself. But the Apostle called him back, told him
that there was yet hope for him through Christ, and spoke in such a
moving way that the robber agreed to return to the town. There he was
once more received into the Church as a penitent; and he spent the rest
of his days in repentance for his sins, and in thankfulness for the
mercy which had been shown to him.
St. John, in his old age, was much troubled by false teachers, who had
begun to corrupt the Gospel. These persons are called _heretics_, and
their doctrines are called _heresy_, from a Greek word which means to
_choose_, because they _chose_ to follow their own fancies, instead of
receiving the Gospel as the Apostles and the Church taught it. Simon
the sorcerer, who is mentioned in the eighth chapter of the Acts, is
counted as the first heretic, and even in the time of the Apostles a
number of others arose, such as Hymenaeus, Philetus, and Alexander, who
are mentioned by St. Paul (1 _Tim._ i. 19, 20; 2 _Tim._ ii. 17, 18).
These earliest heretics were mostly of the kind called _Gnostics_,--a
word which means that they pretended to be more _knowing_ than ordinary
Christians; and perhaps St. Paul may have meant them especially when he
warned Timothy against "science" (or _knowledge_) "falsely so called" (1
_Tim._ vi. 20). Their doctrines were a strange mixture of Jewish and
heathen notions with Christianity; and it is curious that some of the
very strangest of their opinions have been brought up again from time to
time by people who fancied that they had found out something new, while
they had only fallen into old errors, which had been condemned by the
Church hundreds of years before.
St. John lived to about the age of a hundred. He was at last so weak
that he could not walk into the church; so he was carried in, and used
to say continually to his people, "Little children, love one another."
Some of them, after a time, began to be tired of hearing this, and asked
him why he repeated the words so often, and said nothing else to them.
The Apostle answered, "Because it is the Lord's commandment, and if this
be done it is enough."
CHAPTER II.
ST. IGNATIUS.
A.D. 116.
When our Lord ascended into Heaven, He left the government of His Church
to the Apostles. We are told that during the forty days between His
rising from the grave and His ascension, He gave commandments unto the
Apostles, and spoke of the things pertaining (or _belonging_) to the
kingdom of God (_Acts_ i. 2, 3). Thus they knew what they were to do
when their Master should be no longer with them; and one of the first
things which they did, even without waiting until His promise of sending
the Holy Ghost should be fulfilled, was to choose St. Matthias into the
place which had been left empty by the fall of the traitor Judas (_Acts_
i. 15-26).
After this we find that they appointed other persons to help them in
their work. First, they appointed the _deacons_, to take care of the
poor and to assist in other services. Then they appointed _presbyters_
(or _elders_), to undertake the charge of congregations. Afterwards, we
find St. Paul sending Timothy to Ephesus, and Titus into the island of
Crete (now called _Candia_), with power to "ordain elders in every city"
(_Tit._ i. 5), and to govern all the churches within a large country.
Thus, then, three kinds (or _orders_) of ministers of the Church are
mentioned in the Acts and Epistles. The _deacons_ are lowest; the
_presbyters_, or _elders_, are next; and, above these, there is a higher
order, made up of the Apostles themselves, with such persons as Timothy
and Titus, who had to look after a great number of presbyters and
deacons, and were also the chief spiritual pastors (or _shepherds_) of
the people who were under the care of these presbyters and deacons. In
the New Testament, the name of _bishops_ (which means _overseers_) is
sometimes given to the Apostles and other clergy of the highest order,
and sometimes to the presbyters; but after a time it was given only to
the highest order, and when the Apostles were dead, the _bishops_ had
the chief government of the Church. It has since been found convenient
that some bishops should be placed above others, and should be called by
higher titles, such as _archbishops_ and _patriarchs_; but these all
belong to the same _order_ of bishops; just as in a parish, although the
rector and the curate have different titles, and one of them is above
the other, they are both most commonly presbyters (or, as we now say,
_priests_), and so they both belong to the same _order_ in the
ministry.
One of the most famous among the early bishops was St. Ignatius, bishop
of Antioch, the place where the disciples were first called Christians
(_Acts_ xi. 26). Antioch was the chief city of Syria, and was so large
that it had more than two hundred thousand inhabitants. St. Peter
himself is said to have been its bishop for some years; and, although
this is perhaps a mistake, it is worth remembering, because we shall
find by-and-by that much was said about the bishops of Antioch being St.
Peter's successors, as well as the bishops of Rome.
Ignatius had known St. John, and was made bishop of Antioch about thirty
years before the Apostle's death. He had governed his church for forty
years or more, when the Emperor Trajan came to Antioch. In the Roman
history, Trajan is described as one of the best among the emperors; but
he did not treat the Christians well. He seems never to have thought
that the Gospel could possibly be true, and thus he did not take the
trouble to inquire what the Christians really believed or did. They were
obliged in those days to hold their worship in secret, and mostly by
night, or very early in the morning, because it would not have been safe
to meet openly; and hence, the heathens, who did not know what was done
at their meetings, were tempted to fancy all manner of shocking things,
such as that the Christians practised magic; that they worshipped the
head of an ass; that they offered children in sacrifice; and that they
ate human flesh! It is not likely that the Emperor Trajan believed such
foolish tales as these; and, when he _did_ make some inquiry about the
ways of the Christians, he heard nothing but what was good of them. But
still he might think that there was some mischief behind; and he might
fear lest the secret meetings of the Christians should have something to
do with plots against his government; and so, as I have said, he was no
friend to them.
When Trajan came to Antioch, St. Ignatius was carried before him. The
emperor asked what evil spirit possessed him, so that he not only broke
the laws by refusing to serve the gods of Rome, but persuaded others to
do the same. Ignatius answered, that he was not possessed by any evil
spirit; that he was a servant of Christ; that by His help he defeated
the malice of evil spirits; and that he bore his God and Saviour within
his heart. After some more questions and answers, the emperor ordered
that he should be carried in chains to Rome, and there should be
devoured by wild beasts. When Ignatius heard this terrible sentence, he
was so far from being frightened, that he burst forth into thankfulness
and rejoicing, because he was allowed to suffer for his Saviour, and for
the deliverance of his people.
It was a long and toilsome journey, over land and sea, from Antioch to
Rome; and an old man, such as Ignatius, was ill able to bear it,
especially as winter was coming on. He was to be chained, too, and the
soldiers who had the charge of him behaved very rudely and cruelly to
him. And no doubt the emperor thought that, by sending so venerable a
bishop in this way to suffer so fearful and so disgraceful a death (to
which only the very lowest wretches were usually sentenced), he should
terrify other Christians into forsaking their faith. But instead of
this, the courage, and the patience with which St. Ignatius bore his
sufferings gave the Christians fresh spirit to endure whatever might
come on them.
The news that the holy bishop of Antioch was to be carried to Rome soon
spread, and at many places on the way the bishops, clergy, and people
flocked together, that they might see him, and pray and talk with him,
and receive his blessing. And when he could find time, he wrote letters
to various churches, exhorting them to stand fast in the faith, to be at
peace among themselves, to obey the bishops who were set over them, and
to advance in all holy living. One of the letters was written to the
Church at Rome, and was sent on by some persons who were travelling by a
shorter way. St. Ignatius begs, in this letter, that the Romans will not
try to save him from death. "I am the wheat of God," he says, "let me be
ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of
Christ. Rather do ye encourage the beasts, that they may become my
tomb, and may leave nothing of my body, so that, when dead, I may not be
troublesome to any one." He even says that, if the lions should hang
back, he will himself provoke them to attack him. It would not be right
for ordinary people to speak in this way, and the Church has always
disapproved of those who threw themselves in the way of persecution. But
a holy man who had served God for so many years as Ignatius, might well
speak in a way which would not become ordinary Christians. When he was
called to die for his people and for the truth of Christ, he might even
take it as a token of God's favour, and might long for his deliverance
from the troubles and the trials of this world, as St. Paul said of
himself, that he "had a desire to depart, and to be with Christ"
(_Phil._ i. 23).
He reached Rome just in time for some games which were to take place a
little before Christmas; for the Romans were cruel enough to amuse
themselves with setting wild beasts to tear and devour men, in vast
places called _amphitheatres_, at their public games. When the
Christians of Rome heard that Ignatius was near the city, great numbers
of them went out to meet him, and they said that they would try to
persuade the people in the amphitheatre to beg that he might not be put
to death. But he entreated, as he had before done in his letter, that
they would do nothing to hinder him from glorifying God by his death;
and he knelt down with them, and prayed that they might continue in
faith and love, and that the persecution might soon come to an end. As
it was the last day of the games, and they were nearly over, he was then
hurried into the amphitheatre (called the _Coliseum_), which was so
large that tens of thousands of people might look on. And in this place
(of which the ruins are still to be seen), St. Ignatius was torn to
death by wild beasts, so that only a few of his larger bones were left,
which the Christians took up and conveyed to his own city of Antioch.
CHAPTER III.
ST. JUSTIN, MARTYR.
A.D. 166.
Although Trajan was no friend to the Gospel, and put St. Ignatius to
death, he made a law which must have been a great relief to the
Christians. Until then, they were liable to be sought out, and any one
might inform against them; but Trajan ordered that they should not be
sought out, although, if they were discovered, and refused to give up
their faith, they were to be punished. The next emperor, too, whose name
was Hadrian (A.D. 117 to 138), did something to make their condition
better; but it was still one of great hardship and danger.
Notwithstanding the new laws, any governor of a country, who disliked
the Christians, had the power to persecute and vex them cruelly. And the
common people among the heathens still believed the horrid stories of
their killing children and eating human flesh. If there was a famine or
a plague,--if the river Tiber, which runs through Rome, rose above its
usual height and did mischief to the neighbouring buildings,--or if the
emperor's armies were defeated in war, the blame of all was laid on the
Christians. It was said that all these things were judgments from the
gods, who were angry because the Christians were allowed to live. And
then at the public games, such as those at which St. Ignatius was put to
death, the people used to cry out, "Throw the Christians to the lions!
away with the godless wretches!" For, as the Christians were obliged to
hold their worship secretly, and had no images like those of the heathen
gods, and did not offer any sacrifices of beasts, as the heathens did,
it was thought that they had no God at all; since the heathens could not
raise their minds to the thought of that God who is a spirit, and who is
not to be worshipped under any bodily shape. It was, therefore, a great
relief when the Emperor Antoninus Pius (A.D. 138 to 161), who was a
mild and gentle old man, ordered that governors and magistrates should
not give way to such outcries, and that the Christians should no longer
be punished for their religion only, unless they were found to have done
wrong in some other way.
There were now many learned men in the Church, and some of these began
to write books in defence of their faith. One of them, Athenagoras, had
undertaken, while he was a heathen, to show that the Gospel was all a
deceit; but when he looked further into the matter, he found that it was
very different from what he had fancied; and then he was converted, and,
instead of writing against the Gospel, he wrote in favour of it.
Another of these learned men was Justin, who was born at Samaria, and
was trained in all the wisdom of the Greeks. For the Greeks, as they
were left without such light as God had given to the Jews, set
themselves to seek out wisdom in all sorts of ways. And, as they had no
certain truth from heaven to guide them, they were divided into a number
of different parties, such as the Epicureans, and the Stoics, who
disputed with St. Paul at Athens (_Acts_ xvii. 18). These all called
themselves _philosophers_ (which means, _lovers of wisdom_); and each
kind of them thought to be wiser than all the rest. Justin, then, having
a strong desire to know the truth, tried one kind of philosophy after
another, but could not find rest for his spirit in any of them.
One day, as he was walking thoughtfully on the sea-shore, he observed an
old man of grave and mild appearance, who was following him closely, and
at length entered into talk with him. The old man told Justin that it
was of no use to search after wisdom in the books of the philosophers;
and went on to speak of God the maker of all things, of the prophecies
which He had given to men in the time of the Old Testament, and how they
had been fulfilled in the life and death of the blessed Jesus. Thus
Justin was brought to the knowledge of the Gospel; and the more he
learnt of it, the more was he convinced of its truth, as he came to know
how pure and holy its doctrines and its rules were, and as he saw the
love which Christians bore towards each other, and the patience and
firmness with which they endured sufferings and death for their Master's
sake. And now, although he still called himself a philosopher, and wore
the long cloak which was the common dress of philosophers, the wisdom
which he taught was not heathen but Christian wisdom. He lived mostly at
Rome, where scholars flocked to him in great numbers. And he wrote books
in defence of the Gospel against heathens, Jews, and heretics, or false
Christians.
The old Emperor Antoninus Pius, under whom the Christians had been
allowed to live in peace and safety, died in the year 161, and was
succeeded by Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, whom he had adopted as his son.
Marcus Aurelius was not only one of the best emperors, but in many ways
was one of the best of all the heathens. He had a great character for
gentleness, kindness, and justice, and he was fond of books, and liked
to have philosophers and learned men about him. But, unhappily, these
people gave him a very bad notion of Christianity; and, as he knew no
more of it than what they told him, he took a strong dislike to it. And
thus, although he was just and kind to his other subjects, the
Christians suffered more under his reign than they had ever done before.
All the misfortunes that took place, such as rebellions, defeats in war,
plague, and scarcity, were laid to the blame of the Christians; and the
emperor himself seems to have thought that they were in fault, as he
made some new laws against them.
Now the success which Justin had as a teacher at Rome had long raised
the envy and malice of the heathen philosophers; and, when these new
laws against the Christians came out, one Crescens, a philosopher of the
kind called _Cynics_, or _doggish_ (on account of their snarling,
currish ways), contrived that Justin should be carried before a judge,
on the charge of being a Christian. The judge questioned him as to his
belief, and as to the meetings of the Christians; to which Justin
answered that he believed in one God, and in the Saviour Christ, the Son
of God, but he refused to say anything which could betray his brethren
to the persecutors. The judge then threatened him with scourging and
death: but Justin replied that the sufferings of this world were nothing
to the glory which Christ had promised to His people in the world to
come. Then he and the others who had been brought up for trial with him
were asked whether they would offer sacrifice to the gods of the
heathen, and as they refused to do this, and to forsake their faith,
they were all beheaded (A.D. 166). And on account of the death which he
thus suffered for the Gospel, Justin has ever since been especially
styled "The Martyr."
CHAPTER IV.
ST. POLYCARP.
A.D. 166.
About the same time with Justin the Martyr, St. Polycarp, bishop of
Smyrna, was put to death. He was a very old man; for it was almost
ninety years since he had been converted from heathenism. He had known
St. John, and is supposed to have been made bishop of Smyrna by that
Apostle himself; and he had been a friend of St. Ignatius, who, as we
have seen, suffered martyrdom fifty years before. From all these things,
and from his wise and holy character, he was looked up to as a father by
all the Churches, and his mild advice had sometimes put an end to
differences of opinion which but for him might have turned into lasting
quarrels.
When the persecution reached Smyrna, in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, a
number of Christians suffered with great constancy, and the heathen
multitude, being provoked at their refusal to give up their faith,
cried out for the death of Polycarp. The aged bishop, although he was
ready to die for his Saviour, remembered that it was not right to throw
himself in the way of danger; so he left the city, and went first to one
village in the neighbourhood, and then to another. But he was discovered
in his hiding-place, and when he saw the soldiers who were come to seize
him, he calmly said, "God's will be done!" He desired that some food
should be given to them, and, while they were eating, he spent the time
in prayer. He was then set on an ass, and led towards Smyrna; and, when
he was near the town, one of the heathen magistrates came by in his
chariot, and took him up into it. The magistrate tried to persuade
Polycarp to sacrifice to the gods; but finding that he could make
nothing of him, he pushed him out of the chariot so roughly that the old
man fell and broke his leg. But Polycarp bore the pain without showing
how much he was hurt, and the soldiers led him into the amphitheatre,
where great numbers of people were gathered together. When all these saw
him, they set up loud cries of rage and savage delight; but Polycarp
thought, as he entered the place, that he heard a voice saying to him,
"Be strong and play the man!" and he did not heed all the shouting of
the crowd. The governor desired him to deny Christ, and said that, if he
would, his life should be spared. But the faithful bishop answered,
"Fourscore and six years have I served Christ, and He hath never done me
wrong; how then can I now blaspheme my King and Saviour?" The governor
again and again urged him, as if in a friendly way, to sacrifice; but
Polycarp stedfastly refused. He next threatened to let wild beasts loose
on him; and as Polycarp still showed no fear, he said that he would burn
him alive. "You threaten me," said the bishop, "with a fire which lasts
but a short time; but you know not of that eternal fire which is
prepared for the wicked." A stake was then set up, and a pile of wood
was collected around it. Polycarp walked to the place with a calm and
cheerful look, and, as the executioners were going to fasten him to the
stake with iron cramps, he begged them to spare themselves the trouble:
"He who gives me the strength to bear the flames," he said, "will enable
me to remain steady." He was therefore only tied to the stake with
cords, and as he stood thus bound, he uttered a thanksgiving for being
allowed to suffer after the pattern of his Lord and Saviour. When his
prayer was ended, the wood was set on fire, but we are told that the
flames swept round him, looking like the sail of a ship swollen by the
wind, while he remained unhurt in the midst of them. One of the
executioners, seeing this, plunged a sword into the martyr's breast, and
the blood rushed forth in such a stream that it put out the fire. But
the persecutors, who were resolved that the Christians should not have
their bishop's body, lighted the wood again, and burnt the corpse, so
that only a few of the bones remained; and these the Christians gathered
out, and gave them an honourable burial. It was on Easter eve that St.
Polycarp suffered, in the year of our Lord 166.
CHAPTER V.
THE MARTYRS OF LYONS AND VIENNE.
A.D. 177.
Many other martyrs suffered in various parts of the empire under the
reign of Marcus Aurelius. Among the most famous of these are the martyrs
of Lyons and Vienne, in the south of France (or _Gaul_, as it was then
called), where a company of missionaries from Asia Minor had settled
with a bishop named Pothinus at their head. The persecution at Lyons and
Vienne was begun by the mob of those towns, who insulted the Christians
in the streets, broke into their houses, and committed other such
outrages against them. Then a great number of Christians were seized,
and imprisoned in horrid dungeons, where many died from want of food, or
from the bad and unwholesome air. The bishop, Pothinus, who was ninety
years of age, and had long been very ill, was carried before the
governor, and was asked, "Who is the God of Christians?" Pothinus saw
that the governor did not put this question from any good feeling; so he
answered, "If thou be worthy, thou shalt know." The bishop, old and
feeble as he was, was then dragged about by soldiers, and such of the
mob as could reach him gave him blows and kicks, while others, who were
further off, threw anything which came to hand at him; and, after this
cruel usage, he was put into prison, where he died within two days.
The other prisoners were tortured for six days together in a variety of
horrible ways. Their limbs were stretched on the rack; they were cruelly
scourged; some had hot plates of iron applied to them, and some were
made to sit in a red-hot iron chair. The firmness with which they bore
these dreadful trials gave courage to some of their brethren, who at
first had agreed to sacrifice, so that these now again declared
themselves Christians, and joined the others in suffering. As all the
tortures were of no effect, the prisoners were at length put to death.
Some were thrown to wild beasts; but those who were citizens of Rome
were beheaded; for it was not lawful to give a Roman citizen up to wild
beasts, just as we know from St. Paul's case at Philippi that it was not
lawful to scourge a citizen (_Acts_ xvi. 37).
Among the martyrs was a boy from Asia, only fifteen years old, who was
taken every day to see the tortures of the rest, in the hope that he
might be frightened into denying his Saviour; but he was not shaken by
the terrible sights, and for his constancy he was cruelly put to death
on the last day. The greatest cruelties of all, however, were borne by a
young woman named Blandina. She was slave to a Christian lady; and,
although the Christians regarded their slaves with a kindness very
unlike the usual feeling of heathen masters towards them, this lady
seems yet to have thought that a slave was not likely to endure
tortures so courageously as a free person; and she was the more afraid
because Blandina was not strong in body. But the poor slave's faith was
not to be overcome. Day after day she bravely bore every cruelty that
the persecutors could think of; and all that they could wring out from
her was, "I am a Christian, and nothing wrong is done among us!"
The heathen were not content with putting the martyrs to death with
tortures, or allowing them to die in prison. They cast their dead bodies
to the dogs, and caused them to be watched day and night, lest the other
Christians should give them burial; and after this, they burnt the
bones, and threw the ashes of them into the river Rhone, by way of
mocking at the notion of a resurrection. For, as St. Paul had found at
Athens (_Acts_ xvii. 32), and elsewhere, there was no part of the Gospel
which the heathen in general thought so hard to believe as the doctrine
that that which is "sown in corruption" shall hereafter be "raised in
incorruption;" that that which "is sown a natural body" will one day be
"raised a spiritual body" (1 _Cor._ xv. 42-44).
CHAPTER VI.
TERTULLIAN--PERPETUA AND HER COMPANIONS.
A.D. 181-206.
The Emperor Marcus Aurelius died in 181, and the Church was little
troubled by persecution for the following twenty years.
About this time a false teacher named Montanus made much noise in the
world. He was born in Phrygia, and seems to have been crazed in his
mind. He used to fall into fits, and while in them, he uttered ravings
which were taken for prophecies, or messages from heaven: and some
women who followed him also pretended to be prophetesses. These people
taught a very strict way of living, and thus many persons who wished to
lead holy lives were deceived into running after them. One of these was
Tertullian, of Carthage, in Africa, a very clever and learned man, who
had been converted from heathenism, and had written some books in
defence of the Gospel. But he was of a proud and impatient temper, and
did not rightly consider how our Lord Himself had said that there would
always be a mixture of evil with the good in His Church on earth (_St.
Matt._ xiii. 38, 48). And hence, when Montanus pretended to set up a new
church, in which there should be none but good and holy people,
Tertullian fell into the snare, and left the true Church to join the
Montanists (as the followers of Montanus were called). From that time he
wrote very bitterly against the Church; but he still continued to defend
the Gospel in his books against Jews and heathens, and all kinds of
false teachers, except Montanus. And when he was dead, his good deeds
were remembered more than his fall, so that, with all his faults, his
name has always been held in respect.
After more than twenty years of peace, there were cruel persecutions in
some places, under the reign of Severus. The most famous of the martyrs
who then suffered were Perpetua and her companions, who belonged to the
same country with Tertullian, and perhaps to his own city, Carthage.
Perpetua was a young married lady, and had a little baby only a few
weeks old. Her father was a heathen, but she herself had been converted,
and was a _catechumen_--which was the name given to converts who had not
yet been baptized, but where in a course of _catechising_, or training
for baptism. When Perpetua had been put into prison, her father went to
see her, in the hope that he might persuade her to give up her faith.
"Father," she said, "you see this vessel standing here; can you call it
by any other than its right name?" He answered, "No." "Neither," said
Perpetua, "can I call myself anything else than what I am--a Christian."
On hearing this, her father flew at her in such anger that it seemed as
if he would tear out her eyes; but she stood so quietly that he could
not bring himself to hurt her; and he went away and did not come again
for some time.
In the meanwhile Perpetua and some of her companions were baptized; and
at her baptism she prayed for grace to bear whatever sufferings might be
in store for her. The prison in which she and the others were shut up
was a horrible dungeon, where Perpetua suffered much from the darkness,
the crowded state of the place, the heat and closeness of the air, and
the rude behaviour of the guards. But most of all she was distressed
about her poor little child, who was separated from her, and was pining
away. Some kind Christians, however, gave money to the keepers of the
prison, and got leave for Perpetua and her friends to spend some hours
of the day in a lighter part of the building, where her child was
brought to see her. And after a while she took him to be always with
her, and then she felt as cheerful as if she had been in a palace.
The martyrs were comforted by dreams, which served to give them courage
and strength to bear their sufferings, by showing them visions of
blessedness which was to follow. When the day was fixed for their trial,
Perpetua's father went again to see her. He begged her to take pity on
his old age, to remember all his kindness to her, and how he had loved
her best of all his children. He implored her to think of her mother and
her brothers, and of the disgrace which would fall on all the family if
she were to be put to death as an evil-doer. The poor old man shed a
flood of tears; he humbled himself before her, kissing her hands,
throwing himself at her feet, and calling her _Lady_ instead of
_Daughter_. But, although Perpetua was grieved to the heart, she could
only say, "God's pleasure will be done on us. We are not in our own
power, but in His!"
One day, as the prisoners were at dinner, they were suddenly hurried off
to their trial. The market-place, where the judge was sitting, was
crowded with people, and when Perpetua was brought forward, her father
crept as close to her as he could, holding out her child, and said,
"Take pity on your infant." The judge himself entreated her to pity the
little one and the old man, and to sacrifice; but, painful as the trial
was, she steadily declared that she was a Christian, and that she could
not worship false gods. At these words, her father burst out into such
loud cries that the judge ordered him to be put down from the place
where he was standing, and to be beaten with rods. Perhaps the judge did
not mean so much to punish the old man for being noisy as to try whether
the sight of his suffering might not move his daughter; but, although
Perpetua felt every blow as if it had been laid upon herself, she knew
that she must not give way. She was condemned, with her companions, to
be exposed to wild beasts; and, after she had been taken back to prison,
her father visited her once more. He seemed as if beside himself with
grief; he tore his white beard, he cursed his old age, and spoke in a
way that might have moved a heart of stone. But still Perpetua could
only be sorry for him; she could not give up her Saviour.
The prisoners were kept for some time after their condemnation, that
they might be put to death at some great games which were to be held on
the birthday of one of the emperor's sons; and during this confinement
their behaviour had a great effect on many who saw it. The gaoler
himself was converted by it, and so were others who had gone to gaze at
them. At length the appointed day came, and the martyrs were led into
the amphitheatre. The men were torn by leopards and bears; Perpetua and
a young woman named Felicitas, who had been a slave, were put into nets
and thrown before a furious cow, who tossed them and gored them cruelly:
and when this was over, Perpetua seemed as if she had not felt it, but
were awaking from a trance, and she asked when the cow was to come. She
then helped Felicitas to rise from the ground, and spoke words of
comfort and encouragement to others. When the people in the amphitheatre
had seen as much as they wished of the wild beasts, they called out
that the prisoners should be killed. Perpetua and the rest then took
leave of each other, and walked with cheerful looks and firm steps into
the middle of the amphitheatre, where men with swords fell on them and
dispatched them. The executioner who was to kill Perpetua was a youth,
and was so nervous that he stabbed her in a place where the hurt was not
deadly; but she herself took hold of his sword, and showed him where to
give her the death-wound.
CHAPTER VII.
ORIGEN.
A.D. 185-254.
The same persecution in which Perpetua and her companions suffered at
Carthage raged also at Alexandria in Egypt, where a learned man named
Leonides was one of the martyrs (A.D. 202). Leonides had a son named
Origen, whom he had brought up very carefully, and had taught to get
some part of the Bible by heart every day. And Origen was very eager to
learn, and was so good and so clever that his father was afraid to show
how fond and how proud he was of him, lest the boy should become forward
and conceited. So when Origen asked questions of a kind which few boys
would have thought of asking, his father used to check him; but when he
was asleep Leonides would steal to his bedside and kiss him, thanking
God for having given him such a child, and praying that Origen might
always be kept in the right way.
When the persecution began, Origen, who was then about seventeen years
old, wished that he might be allowed to die for his faith; but his
mother hid his clothes, and so obliged him to stay at home; and all that
he could do was to write to his father in prison, and to beg that he
would not fear lest the widow and orphans should be left destitute, but
would be steadfast in his faith, and would trust in God to provide for
their relief.
The persecutors were not content with killing Leonides, but seized on
all his property, so that the widow was left in great distress, with
seven children, of whom Origen was the eldest. A Christian lady kindly
took Origen into her house; and after a time, young as he was, he was
made master of the _Catechetical School_, a sort of college, where the
young Christians of Alexandria were instructed in religion and learning.
The persecution had slackened for a while, but it began again, and some
of Origen's pupils were martyred. He went with them to their trial, and
stood by them in their sufferings; but although he was ill-used by the
mob of Alexandria, he was himself allowed to go free.
Origen had read in the Gospel, "Freely ye have received, freely give"
(_St. Matt._ x. 8), and he thought that therefore he ought to teach for
nothing. In order, therefore, that he might be able to do this, he sold
a quantity of books which he had written out, and lived for a long time
on the price of them, allowing himself only about fivepence a day. His
food was of the poorest kind; he had but one coat, through which he felt
the cold of winter severely; he sat up the greater part of the night,
and then lay down on the bare floor. When he grew older, he came to
understand that he had been mistaken in some of his notions as to these
things, and to regret that, by treating himself so hardly, he had hurt
his health beyond repair. But still, mistaken as he was, we must honour
him for going through so bravely with what he took to be his duty.
He soon grew so famous as a teacher, that even Jews, heathens, and
heretics went to hear him; and many of them were so led on by him that
they were converted to the Gospel. He travelled a great deal: some of
his journeys were taken because he had been invited into foreign
countries that he might teach the Gospel to people who were desirous of
instruction in it, or that he might settle disputes about religion. And
he was invited to go on a visit to the mother of the Emperor Alexander
Severus, who was himself friendly to Christianity, although not a
Christian. Origen, too, wrote a great number of books in explanation of
the Bible, and on other religious subjects; and he worked for no less
than eight-and-twenty years at a great book, called the _Hexapla_, which
was meant to show how the Old Testament ought to be read in Hebrew and
in Greek.
But, although he was a very good, as well as a very learned man, Origen
fell into some strange opinions, from wishing to clear away some of
those difficulties which, as St. Paul says, made the Gospel seem
"foolishness" to the heathen philosophers (1 _Cor._ i. 23). Besides
this, Demetrius, the bishop of Alexandria, although he had been his
friend, had some reasons for not wishing to ordain him to be one of the
clergy; and when Origen had been ordained a presbyter (or priest) in the
Holy Land, where he was on a visit, Demetrius was very angry. He said
that no man ought to be ordained in any church but that of his own home;
and he brought up stories about some rash things which Origen had done
in his youth, and questions about the strange doctrines which he held.
Origen, finding that he could not hope for peace at Alexandria, went
back to his friend the bishop of Caesarea, by whom he had been ordained,
and he spent many years at Caesarea, where he was more sought after as a
teacher than ever. At one time he was driven into Cappadocia, by the
persecution of a savage emperor named Maximin, who had murdered the
gentle Alexander Severus; but he returned to Caesarea, and lived there
until another persecution began under the Emperor Decius.
This was by far the worst persecution that had yet been known. It was
the first which was carried on throughout the whole empire, and no
regard was now paid to the old laws which Trajan and other emperors had
made for the protection of the Christians. They were sought out, and
were made to appear in the market-place of every town, where they were
required by the magistrates to sacrifice, and, if they refused, were
sentenced to severe punishment. The emperor wished most to get at the
bishops and clergy; for he thought that, if the teachers were put out
of the way, the people would soon give up the Gospel. Although many
martyrs were put to death at this time, the persecutors did not so much
wish to kill the Christians, as to make them disown their religion; and,
in the hope of this, many of them were starved, and tortured, and sent
into banishment in strange countries, among wild people who had never
before heard of Christ. But here the emperor's plans were notably
disappointed; for the banished bishops and clergy had thus an
opportunity of making the Gospel known to those poor wild tribes, whom
it might not have reached for a long time if the Church had been left in
quiet.
We shall hear more about the persecution in the next chapter. Here I
shall only say that Origen was imprisoned and cruelly tortured. He was
by this time nearly seventy years old, and was weak in body from the
labours which he had gone through in study, and from having hurt his
health by hard and scanty living in his youth; so that he was ill able
to bear the pains of the torture, and, although he did not die under it,
he died of its effects soon after (A.D. 254).
Decius himself was killed in battle (A.D. 251), and his persecution came
to an end. And when it was over, the faithful understood that it had
been of great use, not only by helping to spread the Gospel, in the way
which has been mentioned, but in purifying the Church, and in rousing
Christians from the carelessness into which too many of them had fallen
during the long time of ease and quiet which they had before enjoyed.
For the trials which God sends on His people in this world are like the
chastisements of a loving Father; and, if we accept them rightly, they
will all be found to turn out to our good.
CHAPTER VIII.
ST. CYPRIAN.
PART I. A.D. 200-253.
About the same time with Origen lived St Cyprian, bishop of Carthage. He
was born about the year 200, and had been long famous as a professor of
heathen learning, when he was converted at the age of forty-five. He
then gave up his calling as a teacher, and, like the first Christians at
Jerusalem (_Acts_ iv. 34-5), he sold a fine house and gardens, which he
had near the town, and gave the price, with a large part of his other
money, to the poor. He became one of the clergy of Carthage, and when
the bishop died, about three years after, Cyprian was so much loved and
respected that he was chosen in his place (A.D. 248).
Cyprian tried with all his power to do the duties of a good bishop, and
to get rid of many wrong things which had grown upon his Church during
the long peace which it had enjoyed. But about two years after he was
made bishop, the persecution under Decius broke out, when, as was said
in the last chapter, the persecutors tried especially to strike at the
bishops and clergy, and to force them to deny their faith. Now Cyprian
would have been ready and glad to die, if it would have served the good
of his people; but he remembered how our Lord had said, "When they
persecute you in this city, flee ye into another" (_St. Matt._ x. 23),
and how He Himself withdrew from the rage of His enemies, because His
"hour was not yet come" (_St. John_ viii. 20, 59; xi. 54). And it seemed
to the good bishop, that for the present it would be best to go out of
the way of his persecutors. But he kept a constant watch over all that
was done in his church, and he often wrote to his clergy and people from
the place where he was hidden.
But in the meanwhile, things went on badly at Carthage. Many had called
themselves Christians in the late quiet times who would not have done so
if there had been any danger about it. And now, when the danger came,
numbers of them ran into the market-place at Carthage, and seemed quite
eager to offer sacrifice to the gods of the heathen. Others, who did not
sacrifice, bribed some officers of the Government to give them tickets,
certifying that they _had_ sacrificed; and yet they contrived to
persuade themselves that they had done nothing wrong by their cowardice
and deceit! There were, too, some mischievous men among the clergy, who
had not wished Cyprian to be bishop, and had borne him a grudge ever
since he was chosen. And now these clergymen set on the people who had
_lapsed_ (or _fallen_) in the persecution, to demand that they should be
taken back into the Church, and to say that some martyrs had given them
letters which entitled them to be admitted at once.
In those days it was usual, when any Christian was known to have been
guilty of a heavy sin, that (as is said in our Commination service), he
should be "put to open _penance_" by the Church; that is, that he should
be required to show his repentance publicly. Persons who were in this
state were not allowed to receive the holy sacrament of the Lord's
Supper, as all other Christians then did very often. The worst sinners
were obliged to stand outside the church-door, where they begged those
who were going in to pray that their sins might be forgiven; and those
of the penitents who were let into the church had places in it separate
from other Christians. Sometimes penance lasted for years; and always
until the penitents had done enough to prove that they were truly
grieved for their sins, so that the clergy might hope that they were
received to God's mercy for their Redeemer's sake. But as it was counted
a great and glorious thing to die for the truth of Christ, and martyrs
were highly honoured in the Church, penitents had been in the habit of
going to them while they were in prison awaiting death, and of
entreating the martyrs to plead with the Church for the shortening of
the appointed penance. And it had been usual, out of regard for the
holy martyrs, to forgive those to whom they had given letters desiring
that the penitents might be gently treated. But now these people at
Carthage, instead of showing themselves humble, as true penitents would
have been, came forward in an insolent manner, as if they had a right to
claim that they might be restored to the Church; and the martyrs'
letters (or rather what they _called_ martyrs' letters) were used in a
way very different from anything that had ever been allowed. Cyprian had
a great deal of trouble with them; but he dealt wisely in the matter,
and at length had the comfort of settling it. But, as people are always
ready to find fault in one way or another, some blamed him for being too
strict with the _lapsed_, and others for being too easy; and each of
these parties went so far as to set up a bishop of its own against him.
After a time, however, he got the better of these enemies, although the
straiter sect (who were called _Novatianists_, after Novatian, a
presbyter of Rome) lasted for three hundred years or more.
PART II. A.D. 253-257.
Shortly after the end of the persecution, a terrible plague passed
through the empire, and carried off vast numbers of people. Many of the
heathen thought that the plague was sent by their gods to punish them
for allowing the Christians to live; and the mobs of towns broke out
against the Christians, killing some of them, and hurting them in other
ways.
But instead of returning evil for evil, the Christians showed what a
spirit of love they had learnt from their Lord and Master; and there was
no place where this was more remarkably shown than at Carthage. The
heathen there were so terrified by the plague that they seemed to have
lost all natural feeling, and almost to be out of their senses. When
their friends fell sick, they left them to die without any care; when
they were dead, they cast out their bodies into the street; and the
corpses which lay about unburied were not only shocking to look at, but
made the air unwholesome, so that there was much more danger of the
plague than before. But while the heathen were behaving in this way, and
each of them thought only of himself, Cyprian called the Christians of
Carthage together, and told them that _they_ were bound to do very
differently. "It would be no wonder," he said, "if we were to attend to
our own friends; but Christ our Lord charges us to do good to heathens
and publicans also, and to love our enemies. HE prayed for them that
persecuted Him, and if we are His disciples, we ought to do so too." And
then the good bishop went on to tell his people what part each of them
should take in the charitable work. Those who had money were to give it,
and were to do such acts of kindness as they could besides. The poor,
who had no silver or gold to spare, were to give their labour in a
spirit of love. So all classes set to their tasks gladly, and they
nursed the sick and buried the dead, without asking whether they were
Christian or heathens.
When the heathens saw these acts of love, many of them were brought to
wonder what it could be that made the Christians do them; and how they
came to be so kind to poor and old people, to widows, and orphans, and
slaves; and how it was that they were always ready to raise money for
buying the freedom of captives, or for helping their brethren who were
in any kind of trouble. And from wondering and asking what it was that
led Christians to do such things, which they themselves would never have
thought of doing, many of the heathen were brought to see that the
Gospel was the true religion, and they forsook their idols to follow
Christ.
After this, Cyprian had a disagreement with Stephen, bishop of Rome.
Rome was the greatest city in the whole world, and the capital of the
empire. There were many Christians there even in the time of the
Apostles, and, as years went on, the church of Rome grew more and more,
so that it was the greatest, and richest, and most important church of
all. Now the bishops who were at the head of this great church were
naturally reckoned the foremost of all bishops, and had more power than
any other; so that if a proud man got the bishopric of Rome, it was too
likely that he might try to set himself up above his brethren, and to
lay down the law to them. Stephen was, unhappily, a man of this kind,
and he gave way to the temptation, and tried to lord it over other
bishops and their churches. But Cyprian held out against him, and made
him understand that the bishop of Rome had no right to give laws to
other bishops, or to meddle with the churches of other countries. He
showed that, although St. Peter (from whom Stephen pretended that the
bishops of Rome had received power over others) was the first of the
Apostles, he was not of a higher class or order than the rest; and,
therefore, that, although the Roman bishops stood first, the other
bishops were their equals, and had received an equal share in the
Christian ministry. So Stephen was not able to get the power which he
wished for over other churches, and, after his death, Carthage and Rome
were at peace again.
PART III. A.D. 257-258.
About six years after the death of the Emperor Decius, a fresh
persecution arose under another emperor, named Valerian (A.D. 257). He
began by ordering that the Christians should not be allowed to meet for
worship, and that the bishops and clergy should be separated from their
flocks. Cyprian was carried before the governor of Africa; and, on being
questioned by him, he said, "I am a Christian and a bishop. I know no
other gods but the one true God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, and
all that is in them. It is this God that we Christians serve; to Him we
pray day and night, for ourselves and all mankind, and for the welfare
of the emperors themselves." The governor asked him about his clergy.
"Our laws," said Cyprian, "forbid them to throw themselves in your way,
and I may not inform against them; but if they be sought after, they
will be found, each at his post." The governor said that no Christians
must meet for worship, under pain of death; and he sentenced Cyprian to
be banished to a place called Curubis, about forty miles from Carthage.
It was a pleasant abode, and Cyprian lived there a year, during which
time he was often visited by his friends, and wrote many letters of
advice and comfort to his brethren. And, as many of these were worse
treated than himself, by being carried off into savage places, or set to
work underground in mines, he did all that he could to relieve their
distress, by sending them money and other presents.
At the end of the year, the bishop was carried back to Carthage, where a
new governor had just arrived. The emperor had found that his first law
against the Christians was of little use; so he now made a second law,
which was much more severe. It ordered that bishops and clergy should be
put to death; that such Christians as were persons of worldly rank
should lose all that they had, and be banished or killed; but it said
nothing about the poorer Christians who do not seem to have been in any
danger. Cyprian thought that his time was now come; and when his friends
entreated him to save himself by flight, he refused. He was carried off
to the governor's country house, about six miles from Carthage, where he
was treated with much respect, and was allowed to have some friends with
him at supper. Great numbers of his people, on hearing that he was
seized, went from Carthage to the place where he was, and watched all
night outside the house in fear lest their bishop should be put to
death, or carried off into banishment without their knowledge. Next
morning Cyprian was led to the place of judgment, which was a little way
from the governor's palace. He was heated with the walk, under a burning
sun; and, as he was waiting for the governor's arrival, a soldier of the
guard, who had once been a Christian, kindly offered him some change of
clothes. "Why," said the bishop, "should we trouble ourselves to remedy
evils which will probably come to an end to-day?"
The governor took his seat, and required Cyprian to sacrifice to the
gods. He refused; and the governor then desired him to consider his
safety. "In so righteous a cause," answered the bishop, "there is no
need of consideration;" and, on hearing the sentence, which condemned
him to be beheaded, he exclaimed, "Praise be to God!" A cry arose from
the Christians, "Let us go and be beheaded with him!" He was then led by
soldiers to the place of execution. Many of his people climbed up into
the trees which surrounded it, that they might see the last of their
good bishop. After having prayed, he took off his upper clothing; he
gave some money to the executioner, and as it was necessary that he
should be blindfolded before suffering, he tied the bandage over his own
eyes. Two of his friends then bound his hands, and the Christians placed
cloths and handkerchiefs around him, that they might catch some of his
blood. And thus St. Cyprian was martyred, in the year 258.
Valerian's attempts against the Gospel were all in vain. The Church had
been purified and strengthened by the persecution under Decius, so that
there were now very few who fell away for fear of death. The faith was
spread by the banished bishops, in the same way as it had been in the
last persecution[1]; and, as has ever been found, "the blood of the
martyrs was the seed of the Church."
[1] See page 25.
CHAPTER IX.
FROM GALLIENUS TO THE END OF THE LAST PERSECUTION.
A.D. 261-313.
Valerian, who had treated the Christians so cruelly, came to a miserable
end. He led his army into Persia, where he was defeated and taken
prisoner. He was kept for some time in captivity; and we are told that
he used to be led forth, loaded with chains, but with the purple robes
of an emperor thrown over him, that the Persians might mock at his
misfortunes. And when he had died from the effects of shame and grief,
it is said that his skin was stuffed with straw, and was kept in a
temple, as a remembrance of the triumph which the Persians had gained
over the Romans, whose pride had never been so humbled before.
When Valerian was taken prisoner, his son Gallienus became emperor (A.D.
261). Gallienus sent forth a law by which the Christians, for the first
time, got the liberty of serving God without the risk of being
persecuted. We might think him a good emperor for making such a law; but
he really does not deserve much credit for it, since he seems to have
made it merely because he did not care much either for his own religion,
or for any other.
And now there is hardly anything to be said of the next forty years,
except that the Christians enjoyed peace and prosperity. Instead of
being obliged to hold their services in the upper rooms of houses, or in
burial-places under ground, and in the dead of night, they built
splendid churches, which they furnished with gold and silver plate, and
with other costly ornaments. Christians were appointed to high offices,
such as the government of countries; and many of them held places in the
emperor's palace. And, now that there was no danger or loss to be risked
by being Christians, multitudes of people joined the Church who would
have kept at a distance from it if there had been anything to fear. But,
unhappily, the Christians did not make a good use of all their
prosperity. Many of them grew worldly and careless, and had little of
the Christian about them except the name; and they quarrelled and
disputed among themselves, as if they were no better than mere heathens.
But it pleased God to punish them severely for their faults; for at
length there came such a persecution as had never before been known.
At this time there were no fewer than four emperors at once; for
Diocletian, who became emperor in the year 284, afterwards took in
Maximian, Galerius, and Constantius, to share his power, and to help
him in the labour of government. Galerius and Constantius, however, were
not quite so high, and had not such full authority, as the other two.
Galerius married Diocletian's daughter, and it was supposed that both
this lady and the empress, her mother, were Christians. The priests and
others, whose interest it was to keep up the old heathenism, began to be
afraid lest the empresses should make Christians of their husbands; and
they sought how this might be prevented.
Now the heathens had some ways by which they used to try to find out the
will of their gods. Sometimes they offered sacrifices of beasts, and,
when the beasts were killed, they cut them open, and judged from the
appearance of the inside, whether the gods were well pleased or angry.
And at certain places there were what they called _oracles_, where
people who wished to know the will of the gods went through some
ceremonies, and expected a voice to come from this or that god in answer
to them. Sure enough, the voice very often _did_ come, although it was
not really from any god, but was managed by the juggling of the priests.
And the answers which these voices gave were often contrived very
cunningly, that they might have more than one meaning, so that, however
things might turn out, the oracle was sure to come true. And now the
priests set to frighten Diocletian with tricks of this kinds. When he
sacrificed, the insides of the victims (as the beasts offered in
sacrifice were called) were said to look in such a way as to show that
the gods were angry. When he consulted the oracles, answers were given
declaring that, so long as Christians were allowed to live on the earth,
the gods would be displeased. And thus Diocletian, although at first he
had been inclined to let them alone, became terrified, and was ready to
persecute.
The first order against the Christians was a proclamation requiring that
all soldiers, and all persons who held any office under the emperor,
should sacrifice to the heathen gods (A.D. 298). And five years after
this, Galerius, who was a cruel man, and very bitter against the
Christians (although his wife was supposed to be one), persuaded
Diocletian to begin a persecution in earnest.
Diocletian did not usually live at Rome, like the earlier emperors, but
at Nicomedia, a town in Asia Minor, on the shore of the Propontis (now
called the Sea of Marmora). And there the persecution began, by his
sending forth an order that all who would not serve the gods of Rome
should lose their offices; that their property should be seized, and, if
they were persons of rank, they should lose their rank. Christians were
no longer allowed to meet for worship; their churches were to be
destroyed, and their holy books were to be sought out and burnt (Feb.
24, 303). As soon as this proclamation was set forth, a Christian tore
it down, and broke into loud reproaches against the emperors. Such
violent acts and words were not becoming in a follower of Him, "who,
when he was reviled, reviled not again, and when he suffered, threatened
not" (1 _Peter_ ii. 23). But the man who had forgotten himself so far,
showed the strength of his principles in the patience with which he bore
the punishment of what he had done, for he was roasted alive at a slow
fire, and did not even utter a groan.
This was in February, 303; and before the end of that year, Diocletian
put forth three more proclamations against the Christians. One of them
ordered that the Christian teachers should be imprisoned; and very soon
the prisons were filled with bishops and clergy, while the evil-doers
who were usually confined in them were turned loose. The next
proclamation ordered that the prisoners should either sacrifice or be
tortured; and the fourth directed that not only the bishops and clergy,
but all Christians, should be required to sacrifice, on pain of torture.
These cruel laws were put in execution. Churches were pulled down,
beginning with the great church of Nicomedia, which was built on a
height, and overlooked the emperor's palace. All the Bibles and
service-books that could be found, and a great number of other Christian
writings, were thrown into the flames; and many Christians, who refused
to give up their holy books, were put to death. The plate of churches
was carried off, and was turned to profane uses, as the vessels of the
Jewish temple had formerly been by Belshazzar.
The sufferings of the Christians were frightful, but after what has been
already said of such things, I shall not shock you by telling you much
about them here. Some were thrown to wild beasts; some were burnt alive,
or roasted on gridirons; some had their skins pulled off, or their flesh
scraped from their bones; some were crucified; some were tied to
branches of trees, which had been bent so as to meet, and then they were
torn to pieces by the starting asunder of the branches. Thousands of
them perished by one horrible death or other, so that the heathens
themselves grew tired and disgusted with inflicting or seeing their
sufferings; and at length, instead of putting them to death, they sent
them to work in mines, or plucked out one of their eyes, or lamed one of
their hands or feet, or set bishops to look after horses or camels, or
to do other work unfit for persons of their venerable character. And it
is impossible to think what miseries even those who escaped must have
undergone; for the persecution lasted ten years, and they had not only
to witness the sufferings of their own dear relations, or friends, or
teachers, but knew that the like might, at any hour, come on themselves.
It was in the East that the persecution was hottest and lasted longest;
for in Europe it was not much felt after the first two years. The
Emperor Constantius, who ruled over Gaul (now called France), Spain and
Britain, was kind to the Christians; and after his death, his son
Constantine was still more favourable to them. There were several
changes among the other emperors, and the Christians felt them for
better or for worse, according to the character of each emperor; but it
is needless to speak much of them in a little book like this. Galerius
went on in his cruelty until, at the end of eight years, he found that
it had been of no use towards putting down the Gospel, and that he was
sinking under a fearful disease, something like that of which Herod,
who had killed St. James, died (_Acts_ xii. 23). He then thought with
grief and horror of what he had done, and (perhaps in the hope of
getting some relief from the God of Christians) he sent forth a
proclamation allowing them to rebuild their churches, and to hold their
worship, and begging them to remember him in their prayers. Soon after
this he died (A.D. 311).
The cruellest of all the persecutors was Maximin, who, from the year
305, had possession of Asia Minor, Syria, the Holy Land, and Egypt. When
Galerius made his law in favour of the Christians, Maximin for a while
pretended to give them the same kind of liberty in _his_ dominions. But
he soon changed again, and required that all his subjects should
sacrifice--even that little babies should take some grains of incense
into their hands, and should burn it in honour of the heathen gods; and
when a season of great plenty followed after this, Maximin boasted that
it was a sign of the favour with which the gods received his law. But it
very soon appeared how false his boast was, for famine and plague began
to rage throughout his dominions. The Christians, of course, had their
share in the distress; but instead of triumphing over their persecutors,
they showed the true spirit of the Gospel by treating them with
kindness, by relieving the poor, by tending the sick, and by burying the
dead, who had been abandoned by their own nearest relations.
Although there is no room to give any particular account of the martyrs
here, there is one of them who especially deserves to be remembered,
because he was the first who suffered in our own island. This good man,
Alban, while he was yet a heathen, fell in with a poor Christian priest,
who was trying to hide himself from the persecutors. Alban took him into
his own house, and sheltered him there; and he was so much struck with
observing how the priest prayed to God, and spent long hours of the
night in religious exercises, that he soon became a believer in Christ.
But the priest was hotly searched for, and information was given that he
was hidden in Alban's house. And when the soldiers came to look for him
there, Alban knew their errand, and put on the priest's dress, so that
the soldiers seized him and carried him before the judge. The judge
found that they had brought the wrong man, and, in his rage at the
disappointment, he told Alban that he must himself endure the punishment
which had been meant for the other. Alban heard this without any fear,
and on being questioned, he declared that he was a Christian, a
worshipper of the one true God, and that he would not sacrifice to idols
which could do no good. He was put to the torture, but bore it gladly
for his Saviour's sake, and then, as he was still firm in professing his
faith, the judge gave orders that he should be beheaded. And when he had
been led out to the place of execution, which was a little grassy knoll
that rose gently on one side of the town, the soldier, who was to have
put him to death, was so moved by the sight of Alban's behaviour, that
he threw away his sword, and desired to be put to death with him. They
were both beheaded, and the town of Verulam, where they suffered, has
since been called St. Alban's, from the name of the first British
martyr.
This martyrdom took place early in the persecution; but, (as we have
seen,) Constantius afterwards protected the British Christians, and his
son Constantine, who succeeded to his share in the empire, treated them
with yet greater favour. In the year 312, Constantine marched against
Maxentius, who had usurped the government of Italy and Africa.
Constantine seems to have been brought up by his father to believe in
one God, although he did not at all know who this God was, nor how He
had revealed Himself in Holy Scripture. But as he was on his way to
fight Maxentius, he saw in the sky a wonderful appearance, which seemed
like the figure of a cross, with words around it--"By this conquer." He
then caused the cross to be put on the standards (or colours) of his
army; and when he had defeated Maxentius, he set up at Rome a statue of
himself, with a cross in its right hand, and with an inscription which
declared that he owed his victory to that saving sign. About the same
time that Constantine overcame Maxentius, Licinius put down Maximin in
the East. The two conquerors now had possession of the whole empire; and
they joined in publishing laws by which Christians were allowed to
worship God freely according to their conscience (A.D. 313).
CHAPTER X.
CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.
A.D. 313-337.
It was a great thing for the Church that the emperor of Rome should give
it liberty; and Constantine, after sending forth the laws which put an
end to the persecution, went on to make other laws in favour of the
Christians. But he did not himself become a Christian all at once,
although he built many churches, and gave rich presents to others, and
although he was fond of keeping company with bishops, and of conversing
with them about religion. Licinius, the emperor of the East, who had
joined with Constantine in his first laws, afterwards quarrelled with
him, and persecuted the eastern Christians cruelly. But Constantine
defeated him in battle (A.D. 324), and the whole empire was once more
united under one head.
After his victory over Licinius, Constantine declared himself a
Christian, which he had not done before; and he used to attend the
services of the Church very regularly, and to stand all the time that
the bishops were preaching, however long their sermons might be. He used
even himself to write a kind of discourses something like sermons, and
to read them aloud in the palace to all his court; but he really knew
very little of Christian doctrine, although he was very fond of taking
part in disputes about it. And, although he professed to be a Christian,
he had not yet been made a member of Christ by baptism; for, in those
days, people had so high a notion of the grace of baptism, that many of
them put off their baptism until they supposed that they were on their
death-bed, for fear lest they should sin after being baptized, and so
should lose the benefit of the sacrament. This was of course wrong; for
it was a sad mistake to think that they might go on in sin so long as
they were not baptized. God, we know, might have cut them off at any
moment in the midst of all their sins; and even if they were spared,
there was a great danger that, when they came to beg for baptism at
last, they might not have that true spirit of repentance and faith
without which they could not be fit to receive the grace of the
sacrament. And therefore the teachers of the Church used to warn people
against putting off their baptism out of a love for sin; and when any
one had received _clinical_ baptism, as it was called (that is to say,
_baptism on a sick-bed_), if he afterwards got well again, he was
thought but little of in the Church.
But to come back to Constantine. He had many other faults besides his
unwillingness to take on himself the duties of a baptized Christian;
and, although we are bound to thank God for having turned his heart to
favour the Church, we must not be blind to the emperor's faults. Yet,
with all these faults, he really believed the Gospel, and meant to do
what he could for the truth.
It took a long time to put down heathenism; for it would not have been
safe or wise to force people to become Christians before they had come
to see the falsehood of their old religion. Constantine, therefore, only
made laws against some of its worst practices, and forbade any
sacrifices to be offered in the name of the empire; but he did not
hinder the heathens from sacrificing on their own account if they liked.
Soon after professing himself a Christian, the emperor began to build a
new capital in the East. There had been a town called Byzantium on the
spot before; but the new city was far grander, and he gave it the name
of _Constantinople_, which means the _City of Constantine_. It was
meant to be altogether Christian,--unlike Rome, which was full of
temples of heathen gods. And the emperors, from this time, usually lived
at Constantinople, or at some other place in the East.
There will be more to say about Constantine in the next chapter. In the
mean time, let us look at the progress of the Gospel.
It had, by this time, made its way into many countries beyond the bounds
of the empire. There were Christians in Scotland and in India; there had
long been great numbers of Christians in Persia and Arabia. Many of the
Goths, who then lived about the Danube, had been converted by captives
whom they carried off in their plundering expeditions, during the reigns
of Valerian and Gallienus (about A.D. 260); and other roving tribes had
been converted by the same means. About the end of the third century,
Gregory, who is called the _Enlightener_, had gone as a missionary
bishop into Armenia, where he persuaded the king, Tiridates, to receive
the Gospel, and to establish it as the religion of his country; so that
Armenia had the honour of being the first Christian kingdom. The
Georgians were converted in the reign of Constantine; and about the same
time, the Ethiopians or Abyssinians (who live to the south of Egypt)
were brought to the knowledge of the truth in a very remarkable way.
There was a rich Christian of Tyre, named Meropius, who was a
philosopher, and wished to make discoveries in the countries towards
India, which were then but little known. So he set out in a ship of his
own, sailed down the Red Sea, and made a voyage to the East. On his way
back, he and his crew landed at a place on the coast of Ethiopia, in
search of fresh water, when the people of the country fell on them, and
killed all but two youths named AEdesius and Frumentius, who were
relations of Meropius. These lads were taken to the king's court, where,
as they were better educated than the Ethiopians, they soon got into
great favour and power. The king died after a time, leaving a little boy
to succeed him; and the two strangers were asked to carry on the
government of the country until the prince should be old enough to take
it into his own hands. They did this faithfully, and stayed many years
in Ethiopia; and they used to look out for any Christian sailors or
merchants who visited the country, and to hold meetings with such
strangers and others for worship, although they were distressed that
they had no clergy to minister to them. At length the young prince grew
up to manhood, and was able to govern his kingdom for himself; and then
AEdesius and Frumentius set out for their own country, which they had
been longing to see for so many years. AEdesius got back to Tyre, where
he became a deacon of the Church. But Frumentius stopped at Alexandria,
and told his tale to the bishop, the great St. Athanasius (of whom we
shall hear more by-and-by); and he begged that a bishop might be sent
into Ethiopia to settle and govern the Church there. Athanasius,
considering how faithful and wise Frumentius had shown himself in all
his business, how greatly he was respected and loved by the Ethiopians,
and how much he had done to spread the gospel in the land of his
captivity, said that no one was so fit as he to be bishop; and he
consecrated Frumentius accordingly. To this day the chief bishop of the
Abyssinian Church, instead of being chosen from among the clergy of the
country, is always a person sent by the Egyptian bishop of Alexandria;
and thus the Abyssinians still keep up the remembrance of the way in
which their Church was founded, although the bishopric of Alexandria is
now sadly fallen from the height at which it stood in the days of
Athanasius and Frumentius.
Constantine used his influence with the king of Persia, whose name was
Sapor, to obtain good treatment for the Christians of that country; and
the Gospel continued to make progress there. But this naturally raised
the jealousy of the magi, who were the priests of the heathen religion
of Persia, and they looked out for some means of doing mischief to the
Christians. So a few years after the death of Constantine, when a war
broke out between Sapor and the next emperor, Constantius, these magi
got about the king, and told him that his Christian subjects would be
ready to betray him to the Romans, from whom they had got their
religion. Sapor then issued orders that all Christians should pay an
enormous tax, unless they would worship the gods of the Persians. Their
chief bishop, whose name was Symeon, on receiving this order, answered
that the tax was more than they could pay, and that they worshipped the
true God alone, who had made the sun, which the Persians ignorantly
adored.
Sapor then sent forth a second order, that the bishops, priests, and
deacons of the Christians should be put to death, that their churches
should be destroyed, and that the plate and ornaments of the churches
should be taken for profane uses; and he sent for Symeon, who was soon
brought before him. The bishop had been used to make obeisance to the
king, after the fashion of the country; but on coming into his presence
now, he refused to do so, lest it should be taken as a sign of that
reverence which he was resolved to give to God alone. Sapor then
required him to worship the sun, and told him that by doing so he might
deliver himself and his people. But the bishop answered, that if he had
refused to do reverence to the king, much more must he refuse such
honour to the sun, which was a thing without reason or life. On this,
the king ordered that he should be thrown into prison until next day.
As he was on his way to prison, Symeon passed an old and faithful
servant of the king, named Uthazanes, who had brought up Sapor from a
child, and stood high in his favour. Uthazanes, seeing the bishop led
away in chains, fell on his knee and saluted him in the Persian fashion.
But Symeon turned away his head, and would not look at him; for
Uthazanes had been a Christian, and had lately denied the faith. The old
man's conscience was smitten by this, and he burst out into
lamentation--"If my old and familiar friend disowns me thus, what may I
expect from my God whom I have denied!" His words were heard, and he
was carried before the king, who tried to move him both by threats and
by kindness. But Uthazanes stood firm against everything, and, as he
could not be shaken in his faith, he was sentenced to be beheaded. He
then begged the king, for the sake of the love which had long been
between them, to grant him the favour that it might be proclaimed why he
died--that he was not guilty of any treason, but was put to death only
for being a Christian. Sapor was very willing to allow this, because he
thought that it would frighten others into worshipping his gods. But it
turned out as Uthazanes had hoped; for when it was seen how he loved his
faith better than life itself, other Christians were encouraged to
suffer, and even some heathens were brought over to the Gospel. Bishop
Symeon was put to death after having seen a hundred of his clergy suffer
before his eyes; and the persecution was renewed from time to time
throughout the remainder of Sapor's long reign.
CHAPTER XI.
THE COUNCIL OF NICAEA.
A.D. 325.
We might expect to find that, when the persecutions by the heathen were
at an end within the Roman empire, Christians lived together in peace
and love, according to their Lord's commandment; but it is a sad truth
that they now began to be very much divided by quarrels among
themselves. There had, indeed, been many false teachers in earlier
times; but now, when the emperor had become a Christian, the troubles
caused by such persons reached much further than before. The emperors
took part in them, and made laws about them, and the whole empire was
stirred by them.
Constantine was, as I have said,[2] very fond of taking a part in Church
matters, without knowing much about them. Very soon after the first law
by which he gave liberty to the Christians, he was called in to settle a
quarrel which had been raised in Africa by the followers of one Donatus,
who separated from the Church and set up bishops of their own, because
they said that the bishops of Carthage and some others had not behaved
rightly when the persecutors required them to deliver up the Scriptures.
I will tell you more about these _Donatists_ (as they are called)
by-and-by,[3] and I mention them now only because it was they who first
invited the emperor to judge in a dispute about religion.
[2] Page 40.
[3] See Chapter XXI., Parts III., IV., and V.
When Constantine put down Licinius and got possession of the East (as
has been said), he found that a dispute of a different kind from the
quarrel of the Donatists was raging there. One Arius, a presbyter (or
priest) of Alexandria, had begun some years before this time to deny
that our blessed Lord was God from everlasting. Arius was a crafty man,
and did all that he could to make his opinion look as well as possible;
but, try as he might, he was obliged to own that he believed our Lord to
be a _creature_. And the difference between the highest of created
beings and God, the maker of all creatures, is infinite; so that it
mattered little how Arius might smooth over his shocking opinion, so
long as he did not allow our Lord to be truly God from all eternity.
The bishop of Alexandria, whose name was Alexander, excommunicated Arius
for his impiety; that is to say, he solemnly turned him out of the
Church, so that no faithful Christian should have anything to do with
him in religious matters. Thus Arius was obliged to leave Egypt, and he
lived for a while at Nicomedia, with a bishop who was an old friend of
his. And while he was there, he made a set of songs to be sung at meals,
and others for travellers, sailors, and the like. He hoped that people
would learn these songs, without considering what mischief was in them;
and that so his heresy would be spread.
When Constantine first heard of these troubles, he tried to quiet them
by advising Alexander and Arius not to dispute about trifles. But he
soon found that this would not do, and that the question whether our
Lord and Saviour were God or a creature was so far from being a trifle,
that it was one of the most serious of all questions. In order,
therefore, to get this and some other matters settled, he gave orders
for a general council to meet. Councils of bishops within a certain
district had long been common. In many countries they were regularly
held once or twice a year; and, besides these regular meetings, others
were sometimes called together to consider any business which was
particularly pressing. Some of these councils were very great; for
instance, the bishop of Alexander could call together the bishops of all
Egypt, and the bishop of Antioch could call together all the bishops of
Syria and some neighbouring countries. But there was no bishop who could
call a council of the whole Church, because there was no one who had any
power over more than a part of it. But now, Constantine, as he had
become a Christian, thought that he might gather a council from all
quarters of his empire, and this was the first of what are called the
_general_ councils.
It met in the year 325, at Nicaea (or Nice), in Bithynia, and 318 bishops
attended it. A number of clergy and other persons were also present;
even some heathen philosophers went, out of curiosity to see what the
Christians were to do. Many of the bishops were very homely and simple
men, who had not much learning; but their great business was only to say
plainly what their belief had always been, so that it might be known
whether the doctrines of Arius agreed with this or no; and thus the good
bishops might do their part very well, although they were not persons of
any great learning or cleverness. One of these simpler bishops was drawn
into talk by a philosopher, who tried to puzzle him about the truth of
the Gospel. The bishop was not used to argue or to dispute much, and
might have been no match for the philosopher in that way; but he
contented himself with saying his Creed; and the philosopher was so
struck with this, that he took to thinking more seriously of
Christianity than he had ever thought before, and he ended in becoming a
Christian himself.
There was a great deal of arguing about Arius and his opinions, and the
chief person who spoke against him was Athanasius, a clergyman of
Alexandria, who had come with the bishop, Alexander. Athanasius could
not sit as a judge in the council, because he was not a bishop; but he
was allowed to speak in the presence of the bishops, and pointed out to
them the errors which Arius tried to hide. So at last Arius was
condemned, and the emperor banished him, with some of his chief
followers. And, in order to set forth the true Christian faith beyond
all doubt, the council made that creed which is read in the
Communion-service in our churches--all but some of the last part of it,
which was made at a later time, as we shall see. It is called the
_Nicene_ Creed, from the name of the place where the council met; and
the great point in it is, that it declares our blessed Lord to be "Very
God of Very God, begotten, not made, being of _one substance_ (that is
to say, _of the same nature_) with the Father." For this truth, that our
Lord has the _same nature_ with the Almighty Father--this truth that He
is really _God_ from everlasting--was what the Arians could not be
brought to own.
The emperor attended the council during the latter part of its sittings;
and a story is told of him and a bishop named Acesius, who belonged to
the sect of Novatianists. You will remember that this sect broke off
from the Church in St. Cyprian's days, because Novatian and others
thought that St. Cyprian and the Church were too easy with those who
repented after having sacrificed in time of persecution[4]; and, from
having begun thus, it came to be hard in its notions as to the treatment
of all sorts of penitents. But, as it had been only about the treatment
of persons who had behaved weakly in persecution that the Novatianists
at first differed from the Church, and as persecution by the heathens
was now at an end, Constantine hoped that, perhaps, they might be
persuaded to return to the Church; so he invited some bishops of the
sect to attend the council, and Acesius among them. When the creed had
been made, Acesius declared that it was all true, and that it was the
same faith which he had always believed; and he was quite satisfied with
the rules which the council made as to the time of keeping Easter, and
as to some other things. "Why, then," asked Constantine, "will you not
join the Church?" Acesius said, that he did not think the Church strict
enough in dealing with penitents. "Take a ladder, then," said the
emperor, "and go up to heaven by yourself!"
[4] See page 27.
CHAPTER XII.
ST. ATHANASIUS.
PART I. A.D. 325-337.
Alexander, the bishop of Alexandria by whom Arius had been
excommunicated, died soon after returning home from the Council of
Nicaea; and Athanasius, who was then about thirty years of age, was
chosen in his stead, and governed the Alexandrian church for
six-and-forty years. Every one knows the name of St. Athanasius, from
the creed which is called after it. That creed, indeed, was not made by
St. Athanasius himself; but, as the Prayer-book says, it is "_commonly
called_" his, because it sets forth the true Christian faith, of which
he was the chief defender in his day. And we are bound to honour this
learned and holy bishop, as the man by whom especially God was pleased
that His truth should be upheld and established against all the craft of
Arius and his party, and even against all the power of the emperors of
Rome.
For, although Arius had been sent into banishment, he soon managed to
get into favour at the emperor's court. One of his friends, a priest,
gained the ear of Constantine's sister; and this princess, when she was
dying, recommended the priest to the emperor. Neither Constantine nor
his sister understood enough of the matter to be on their guard against
the deceits of the Arian, who was able to persuade the emperor that
Arius had been ill-used, and that he did not really hold the opinions
for which the council had condemned him. Arius, then, was allowed to
return from banishment, and Constantine desired Athanasius to receive
him back into the Church, saying that he was not guilty of the errors
which had been laid to his charge. But Athanasius knew that this was
only a trick; and he answered that, as Arius had been condemned by a
council of the whole Church, he could not be restored by anything less
than another such council.
The Arians, on finding that they could not win Athanasius over, resolved
to attack him. They contrived that all sorts of charges against him
should be carried to the emperor; and in the year 335, a council was
held at Tyre for his trial. One story was, that he had killed an
Egyptian bishop, named Arsenius, that he had cut off his hand, and had
used it for magical purposes (for among other things, Athanasius was
said by his enemies to be a sorcerer!); and the dried hand of a man was
shown, which was said to be that of Arsenius. But when the time came for
examining this charge, what was the confusion of the accusers at seeing
Arsenius himself brought into the council! He was dressed in a long
cloak, and Athanasius lifted it up, first on one side, and then on the
other, so as to show that the man was not only alive, but had both his
hands safe and sound. The leaders of the Arians had known that Arsenius
was not dead, but they had hoped that he would not appear. But, happily
for Athanasius, one of his friends had discovered Arsenius, and had kept
him hidden until the right moment came for producing him.
Athanasius was able to answer the other charges against him, as well as
that about Arsenius; and the Arians, seeing that they must contrive some
new accusation, sent some of his bitterest enemies into Egypt, to rake
up all the tales that they could find. Athanasius knew what he might
expect from people who could act so unfairly; he therefore resolved not
to wait for their return, but got on board a ship which was bound for
Constantinople. On arriving there, he posted himself in a spot outside
the city, where he expected the emperor to pass in returning from a
ride; and when Constantine came up, he threw himself in his way. The
emperor was startled; but Athanasius told him who he was, and entreated
him, by the thought of that judgment in which princes as well as
subjects must one day appear, to order that the case should be tried
before himself, instead of leaving it to judges from whom no justice was
to be looked for. The emperor agreed to this, and was very angry with
those who had behaved so unjustly in the council at Tyre. But after a
time some of the Arians got about him and told him another story--that
Athanasius had threatened to stop the sailing of the fleet which carried
corn from Alexandria to Constantinople. This was a charge which touched
Constantine very closely; because Constantinople depended very much on
the Egyptian corn for food, and he thought that the bishop, who had so
much power at Alexandria, might perhaps be able to stop the fleet, and
to starve the people of the capital, if he pleased. And, whether the
emperor believed the story, or whether he wished to shelter Athanasius
for a while from his persecutors by putting him out of the way--he sent
him into banishment at Treves, on the banks of the Moselle, in a part of
Gaul which is now reckoned to belong to Germany. Except for the
separation from his flock, this banishment would have been no great
hardship for Athanasius; for he was treated with great respect by the
bishop of Treves, and by the emperor's eldest son, who lived there, and
all good men honoured him for his stedfastness in upholding the true
faith.
But, although Athanasius was removed, the Alexandrian Church would not
admit Arius. So, after a while, the emperor resolved to have him
admitted at Constantinople, and a council of bishops agreed that it
should be so. The bishop of Constantinople, whose name was Alexander,
and who was almost a hundred years old, was grievously distressed at
this; he desired his people to entreat God, with fasting and prayer,
that it might not come to pass, and he threw himself under the altar,
and prayed very earnestly that the evil which was threatened might be
somehow turned away, or that, at least, he himself might not live to see
it.
At length, on the evening before the day which had been fixed for
receiving Arius into the Church, he was going through the streets of
Constantinople, in high spirits, and talking with some friends of what
was to take place on the morrow. But all at once he felt himself ill,
and went into a house which was near; and in a few minutes he was dead!
His death, taking place at such a time and in such a way, made a great
impression, and people were ready enough to look on it as a direct
judgment of God on his impiety. But Athanasius, although he felt the
awfulness of the unhappy man's sudden end, did not take it on himself to
speak in this way; and we too shall do well not to pronounce judgment in
such cases, remembering what our Lord said as to the Galileans who were
slain by Pilate, and as to the men who were killed by the falling of the
tower in Siloam (_St. Luke_ xiii. 1-5). While we abhor the errors of
Arius, let us leave the judgment of him to God.
Although Constantine in his last years was very much in the hands of the
Arians, we must not suppose that he meant to favour their heresy. For
these people (as I have said already, and shall have occasion to say
again) were very crafty, and took great pains to hide the worst of their
opinions. They used words which sounded quite right, except to the few
persons who, like Athanasius, were quick enough to understand what bad
meanings might be disguised under these fair words. And whenever they
wished to get one of the faithful bishops turned out, they took care
not to attack him about his faith, but about some other things, as we
have seen in the case of Athanasius. Thus they managed to blind the
emperor, who did not know much about the matter, so that, while they
were using him as a tool, and were persuading him to help them with all
his power, he all the while fancied that he was firmly maintaining the
Nicene faith.
Constantine, after all that he had done in religious disputes, was still
unbaptized. Perhaps he was a _catechumen_, which (as has been explained
before),[5] was the name given to persons who were supposed to be in a
course of training for baptism; but it is not certain that he was even
so much as a catechumen. At last, shortly after the death of Arius, the
emperor felt himself very sick, and believed that his end was near. He
sent for some bishops, and told them that he had put off his baptism
because he had wished to receive it in the river Jordan, like our Lord
Himself; but as God had not granted him this, he begged that they would
baptize him. He was baptized accordingly, and during the remaining days
of his life he refused to wear any other robes than the white dress
which used then to be put on at baptism, by way of signifying the
cleansing of the soul from sin. And thus the first Christian emperor
died, at a palace near Nicomedia, on Whitsunday in the year 337.
[5] Page 18.
PART II. A.D. 337-361.
At Constantine's death, the empire was divided between his three sons.
The eldest of them, whose name was the same with his father's, and the
youngest, Constans, were friendly to the true faith. But the second son,
Constantius, was won over by the Arians; and as, through the death of
his brothers, he got possession of the whole empire within a few years,
his connexion with that party led to great mischief. All through his
reign, there were unceasing disputes about religion. Councils were
almost continually sitting in one place or another, and bishops were
posting about to one of them after another at the emperor's expense.
Constantius did not mean ill; but he went even further than his father
in meddling with things which he did not understand.
The Arians went on in the same cunning way as before. I may mention, by
way of example, the behaviour of Leontius, bishop of Antioch. The
Catholics[6] (that is to say, those who held the faith which the Church
throughout all the world held), used to sing in church, as we do--"Glory
be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost;" but the Arians
sang, "Glory be to the Father, _by_ the Son, _in_ the Holy Ghost"--for
they did not allow the Second and Third Persons to be of the same nature
with the First. Leontius, then, who was an Arian, and yet did not wish
people to know exactly what he was, used to mumble his words, so that
nobody could make them out, until he came to the part in which all
parties agreed; and then he sang out loudly and clearly--"As it was in
the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen." He
was an old man, and sometimes he would point to his white hair, and say,
"When this snow melts, there will be a great deal of mud," meaning that
after his death the two parties would come to open quarrels, which he
had tried to prevent during his lifetime by such crafty behaviour as
that which has just been mentioned.
[6] The word _Catholic_, which means _Universal_, is not to be
confounded with _Roman-Catholic_.
The three young emperors met shortly after their father's death. It was
agreed between them that Athanasius should be allowed to return to
Alexandria; and for this favour he was chiefly indebted to young
Constantine, who had known him during his banishment at Treves. The
bishop returned accordingly, and was received with great rejoicing by
his flock. But in about three years his enemies contrived that he should
be again turned out (A.D. 341), and he was in banishment eight years. He
was then restored again (A.D. 349); but his enemies watched their time,
and spared no pains to get rid of him. One by one, they contrived to
thrust out all the chief bishops who would have been inclined to take
part with him; and at length, in the beginning of 356, Constantius sent
a general named Syrianus to Alexandria, with orders to drive out
Athanasius. The Alexandrians were so much attached to their great bishop
that there was a fear lest they might prevent any open attempt against
him. But Syrianus contrived to throw them off their guard; and one
night, while Athanasius was keeping watch, with many of his clergy and
people, in one of the churches (as the Christians of those days used to
do before their great festivals and at other times), Syrianus suddenly
beset the church with a great number of soldiers, and a multitude made
up of Arians, Jews, and the heathen rabble of the city. When Athanasius
heard the noise outside the church, he sat down calmly on his throne,
and desired the congregation to chant the hundred and thirty-sixth
psalm, in which God's deliverances of His people in old times are
celebrated; and the whole congregation joined in the last part of every
verse--"For His mercy endureth for ever." The doors were shut, but the
soldiers forced them open and rushed in; and it was a fearful sight to
see their drawn swords and their armour flashing by the lamplight in the
house of God. As they advanced up the church, many of the congregation
were trodden down or crushed to death, or pierced through with their
darts. Athanasius stood calm in the midst of all the terrible din. His
clergy, when they saw the soldiers pushing on towards the sanctuary (as
the part of the church was called which was railed off for the clergy),
entreated him to save himself by flight; but he declared that he would
not go until his people were safe, and waited until most of them had
made their escape through doors in the upper part of the church. At
last, when the soldiers were pressing very close to the sanctuary, the
clergy closed round their bishop, and hurried him away by a secret
passage. And when they had got him out of the church, they found that he
had fainted; for although his courage was high, his body was weak and
delicate, and the dreadful scene had overcome him. But he escaped to the
deserts of Egypt, where he lived in peace among the monks for six years,
until the death of Constantius. His enemies thought that he might,
perhaps, seek a refuge in Ethiopia; and Constantius wrote to beg that
the princes of that country would not shelter him, and that the bishop,
Frumentius,[7] might be sent to receive instruction in the faith from
the Arian bishop who was put into the see of Alexandria. But Athanasius
was safe elsewhere, and Frumentius wisely stayed at home.
[7] See page 41.
The new Arian bishop of Alexandria was a Cappadocian named George. He
was a coarse, ignorant, and violent man, and behaved with great cruelty
to Athanasius's friends--even putting many of them to death. But
Athanasius, from his quiet retreat, kept a watch over all that was done
as to the affairs of the Church, both at Alexandria and elsewhere; and
from time to time he wrote books, which reached places where he himself
could not venture to appear. So that, although he was not seen during
these years, he made himself felt, both to the confusion of the Arians,
and to the comfort and encouragement of the faithful.
PART III. A.D. 361-371.
Constantius had no children, and after the death of Constans (A.D. 350),
his nearest male relation was a cousin named Julian. The emperor gave
his sister in marriage to this cousin, and also gave him the government
of a part of the empire; but he always treated him with distrust and
jealousy, so that Julian never loved him. And this was not the worst of
it; for Julian, who had lost his father when he was very young, and had
been brought up under the direction of Constantius, took a strong
dislike to his cousin's religion, which was forced on him in a way that
a lively boy could not well be expected to relish. He was obliged to
spend a great part of his time in attending the services of the Church,
and was even made a _reader_, (which was one of the lowest kinds of
ministers in the Church of those times;) and, unfortunately, the end of
all this was, that instead of being truly religious, he learnt to be a
hypocrite. When he grew older, and was left more to himself, he fell
into the hands of the heathen philosophers, who were very glad to get
hold of a prince who might one day be emperor. So Julian's mind was
poisoned with their opinions, and he gave up all belief in the Gospel,
although he continued to profess himself a Christian for nine years
longer. On account of his having thus forsaken the faith he is commonly
called the _Apostate_.
At length, when Julian was at Paris, early in the year 361, Constantius
sent him some orders which neither he nor his soldiers were disposed to
obey. The soldiers lifted him up on a shield and proclaimed him emperor;
and Julian set out at their head to fight for the throne. He marched
boldly eastward, until he came to the Danube; then he embarked his
troops and descended the great river for many hundreds of miles into the
country which is now called Hungary. Constantius left Antioch, and was
marching to meet Julian's army, when he was taken ill, and died at a
little town in Cilicia. Like his father, he was baptized only a day or
two before his death.
Julian now came into possession of the empire without further dispute;
and he did all that he could to set heathenism up again. But in many
parts of the empire, Christianity had taken such root that very few of
the people held to the old religion, or wished to see it restored. Thus,
we are told that once, when the emperor went to a famous temple near
Antioch, on a great heathen festival, in the hope of finding things
carried on as they had been before Constantine's time, only one old
priest was to be seen; and, instead of the costly sacrifices which had
been offered in the former days of heathenism, the poor old man had
nothing better than a single goose to offer.
Julian knew that in past times Christians had always been ready to
suffer for their faith, and that the patience of the martyrs had always
led to the increase of the Church. He did not think it wise, therefore,
to go to work in the same way as the earlier persecuting emperors; but
he contrived to annoy the Christians very much by other means, and
sometimes great cruelties were committed against them under his
authority. Yet, with all this, he pretended to allow them the exercise
of their religion, and he gave leave to those who had been banished by
Constantius to return, home,--not that he really meant to do them any
kindness, but because he hoped that they would all fall to quarrelling
among themselves, and that he should be able to take advantage of their
quarrels. But in this hope he was happily disappointed; for they had
learnt wisdom by suffering, and were disposed to make peace with each
other as much as possible, while they were all threatened by the enemies
of the Saviour's very name.
The first thing that the heathens of Alexandria did when they heard of
the death of Constantius had been to kill the Arian bishop, George; for
he had behaved in such a way that the heathens hated him even more than
the Catholics did. Another Arian bishop was set up in his place; but
when Julian had given leave for the banished to return, Athanasius came
back, and the Arian was turned out.
The Alexandrians received Athanasius with great joy, and he did all that
was in his power to reconcile the parties of Christians among
themselves. For, although no one could be more earnest than he in
maintaining every particle of the faith necessary for a true Christian,
he was careful not to insist on things which were not necessary. He
knew, too, that people who really meant alike were often divided from
each other by not understanding one another's words; and he was always
ready to make allowance for them as far as he could do so without giving
up the truth. But Julian was afraid to let him remain at Alexandria, and
was greatly provoked at hearing that he had converted and baptized some
heathen ladies of rank. So the emperor wrote to the Alexandrians,
telling them that, although they might choose another bishop for
themselves, they must not let Athanasius remain among them, and
banishing the bishop from all Egypt. Athanasius, when he heard of this,
said to his friends, "Let us withdraw; this is but a little cloud which
will soon pass over;" and he set off up the river Nile in a boat. After
a while, another boat was seen in pursuit of him; but Athanasius then
told his boatmen to turn round, and to sail down the river again; and
when they met the other boat, from which they had not been seen until
after turning, they answered the questions of its crew in such a way
that they were allowed to pass without being suspected of having the
bishop on board. Thus Athanasius got safe back to the city, and there he
lay hid securely while his enemies were searching for him elsewhere. But
after a little time he withdrew to the deserts, where he was welcomed
and sheltered by his old friends the monks.
In his hatred of Christianity, Julian not only tried to restore
heathenism, but showed favour to the Jews. He sent for some of them, and
asked why they did not offer sacrifice as their law had ordered? They
answered that it was not lawful to sacrifice except in the temple of
Jerusalem, which was now in ruins, and did not belong to them, so that
they could no longer fulfil the duty of sacrificing. Julian then gave
them leave to build the temple up again, and the Jews came together in
vast numbers from the different countries into which they had been
scattered. Many of them had got great wealth in the lands of their
banishment, and it is said that even the women laboured at the work,
carrying earth in their rich silken dresses, and that tools of silver
were used in the building. The Jews were full of triumph at the thought
of being restored to their own land, and of reviving the greatness of
David and Solomon. But it had been declared that the temple was to be
overthrown, and that Jerusalem was to be "trodden down of the Gentiles,"
on account of the sin of God's ancient people (_St. Luke_ xxi. 6, 24,
&c.): so that this undertaking to rebuild the temple was nothing less
than a daring defiance of Him who had so spoken; and it pleased Him to
defeat it in a terrible manner. An earthquake scattered the foundations
which had been laid; balls of fire burst forth from the ground,
scorching and killing many of the workmen; their tools were melted by
lightning; and stories are told of other fearful sights, which put an
end to the attempt. Julian, indeed, meant to set about it once more,
after returning from a war which he had undertaken against the Persians.
But he never lived to do so. Athanasius was not mistaken when he said
that his heathen emperor's tyranny would be only as a passing cloud; for
Julian's reign lasted little more than a year and a half in all. He led
his army into Persia in the spring of 363, and in June of that year he
was killed in a skirmish by night.
Julian left no child to succeed him in the empire, and the army chose as
his successor a Christian named Jovian, who soon undid all that Julian
had done in matters of religion. The new emperor invited Athanasius to
visit him at Antioch, and took his advice as to the restoration of the
true faith. But Jovian's reign lasted only eight months, and
Valentinian, who was then made emperor, gave the empire of the East to
his brother Valens, who was a furious Arian, and treated the Catholics
with great cruelty. We are told, for instance, that when eighty of their
bishops had carried a petition to him, he put them on board a ship, and
when it had got out to sea, the sailors, by his orders, set it on fire,
and made their escape in boats, leaving the poor bishops to be burned to
death.
Valens turned many orthodox bishops (that is to say, bishops _of the
right faith_) out of their sees, and meant to turn out Athanasius, who
hid himself for a while in his father's tomb. But the people of
Alexandria begged earnestly that their bishop might be allowed to remain
with them, and the emperor did not think it safe to deny their request,
lest there should be some outbreak in the city. And thus, while the
faith of which Athanasius had so long been the chief defender, and for
the sake of which he had borne so much, was under persecution in all
other parts of the eastern empire, the great bishop of Alexandria was
allowed to spend his last years among his own flock without disturbance.
He died in the year 373, at the age of seventy-six.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MONKS.
In the story of St. Athanasius, _monks_ have been more than once
mentioned, and it is now time to give some account of these people and
of their ways.
The word _monk_ properly means one who leads a _lonely_ life; and the
name was given to persons who professed to withdraw from the world and
its business that they might give themselves up to serve God in
religious thoughts and exercises. Among the Jews there had been whole
classes of people who practised this sort of retirement: some, called
_Essenes_, lived near the Dead Sea; and others, called _Therapeutae_, in
Egypt, where a great number of Jews had settled. Among the heathens of
the East, too, a like manner of living had been common for ages, as it
still continues to be; and many of them carry it to an excessive
strictness, as we are told by travellers who have visited India, Thibet,
and other countries of Asia.
Nothing of the kind, however, is commanded for Christians in the New
Testament; and when Scripture warrant for the monkish life was sought
for, the great patterns who were produced were Elijah and St. John the
Baptist--the one of them an Old Testament prophet; the other, a holy man
who lived, indeed, in the days when our Lord Himself was on the earth,
but who was not allowed to enter into His Church, or to see it fully
established by the coming of the Holy Ghost at the day of Pentecost. But
still it was very natural that the notion of a life of strict poverty,
retirement from the world, and employment in spiritual things, should
find favour with Christians, as a means of fulfilling the duties of
their holy calling; and so it seems that some of them took to this way
of life very early. But the first who is named as a _hermit_ (that is to
say, a _dweller in the wilderness_) was Paul, a young man of Alexandria,
who, in the year 251, fled from the persecution of Decius into the
Egyptian desert, where he is said to have lived ninety years. Paul,
although he afterwards became very famous, spent his days without being
known, until, just before his death, he was visited by another great
hermit, St. Antony. But Antony himself was a person of great note and
importance in his own lifetime.
He was born in the district of Thebes, in Egypt, in the very same year
that Paul withdrew from the world. While a boy, he was thoughtful and
serious. His parents died before he had reached the age of twenty, and
left him considerable wealth. One day, when in church, he was struck by
hearing the story of the rich young man who was charged to sell all that
he had, give to the poor, and follow our Lord (_St. Luke_ xviii. 18-22).
At another time he was moved by hearing the charge to "take no thought
for the morrow" (_St. Matt._ vi. 34). And in order to obey these
commands (as he thought), Antony parted with all that belonged to him,
bade farewell to his only sister, and left his home, with the intention
of living in loneliness and devotion. He carried on this life for many
years, and several times changed his abode, that he might seek out some
place still wilder and more remote than the last. But he grew so famous
that people flocked even into the depths of the wilderness to see him. A
number of disciples gathered around him, and hermits or monks began to
copy his way of life in other parts of Egypt. Antony's influence became
very great; he made peace between enemies, comforted mourners, and gave
advice to all who asked him as to spiritual concerns; and when he took
the part of any oppressed person who applied to him, his interference
was always successful. Affairs of this kind sometimes obliged him to
leave his _cell_ (as the dwellings of the monks were called); but he
always returned as soon as possible, for he used to say that "a monk out
of his solitude is like a fish out of water." Even the emperors,
Constantine and his sons, wrote to him with great respect, and asked him
to visit their courts. He thanked them, but did not accept their
invitation; and he wrote more than once to them in favour of St.
Athanasius, whom he steadily supported in his troubles on account of the
faith. On two great occasions he visited Alexandria, for the purpose of
strengthening his brethren in their sufferings for the truth. The first
of these visits was while the last heathen persecution, under Maximin,
was raging.[8] Antony stood by the martyrs at their trials and in their
death, and took all opportunities of declaring himself a Christian; but
the persecutors did not venture to touch him: and, after waiting till
the heat of the danger was past, he again withdrew to the wilderness.
The second visit was in the time of the Arian disturbances, when his
appearance had even a greater effect than before. The Catholics were
encouraged by his exhortations, and a great number of conversions took
place in consequence. Antony died, at the age of a hundred and five, in
the year 356, a few days before the great bishop of Alexandria was
driven to seek a refuge in the desert.[9]
[8] See page 36.
[9] See page 54.
Antony, as we have seen, was a _hermit_, living in the wilderness by
himself. But by-and-by other kinds of monks were established, who lived
in companies together. Sometimes they were lodged in clusters of little
cells, each of them having his separate cell, or two or three living
together; sometimes the cells were all in one large building, called a
_monastery_. The head of each monastery, or of each cluster of cells,
was called _abbot_, which means _father_. And in some cases there were
many monasteries belonging to one _order_, so that they were all
considered as one society, and there was one chief abbot over all. Thus
the order founded by Pachomius, on an island in the Nile, soon spread,
so that before his death it had eight monasteries, with three thousand
monks among them; and about fifty years later, it had no fewer than
fifty thousand monks.
These monks of Pachomius lived in cells, each of which contained three.
Each cluster of cells had its abbot; the head of the order, who was
called the _archimandrite_ (which means _chief of a sheep-fold_), went
round occasionally to visit all the societies which were under him; and
the whole order met every year at the chief monastery, for the festival
of Easter, and a second time in the month of August. The monks of St.
Pachomius prayed many times a-day. They fasted every Wednesday and
Friday, and communicated every Sunday and Saturday. They took their
meals together and sang psalms before each. They were not allowed to
talk at table, but sat with their hoods drawn over their faces, so that
no one could see his neighbours, or anything but the food before him.
Their dress was coarse and plain; the chief article of it was a rough
goat-skin, in imitation of the prophet Elijah. They slept with their
clothes on, not in beds, but in chairs, which were of such a shape as to
keep them almost standing. They spent their time not only in prayers and
other religious exercises, but in various kinds of simple work, such as
labouring in the fields, weaving baskets, ropes, and nets, or making
shoes. They had boats in which they sent the produce of their labour
down the Nile to Alexandria; and the money which they got by selling it
was not only enough to keep them, but enabled them to redeem captives,
and to do such other acts of charity.
This account of the monks of St. Pachomius will give some notion of the
monkish life in general, although one order differed from another in
various ways. All that the monks had was considered to belong to them in
common, after the pattern of the first Christians, as was supposed
(_Acts_ ii. 34; iv. 32); and no one was allowed to have anything of his
own. Thus we are told that when a monk was found at his death to have
left a hundred pieces of silver, which he had earned by weaving flax,
his brethren, who were about three thousand in number, met to consider
what should be done with the money. Some were for giving it to the
Church; some, to the poor. But the fathers of the society quoted St.
Peter's words to Simon the sorcerer, "Thy money perish with thee"
(_Acts_ viii. 20); and on the strength of this text (which in truth had
not much to do with the matter), they ordered that it should be buried
with its late owner. St. Jerome, who tells the story, says that this was
not done out of any wish to condemn the dead monk, but in order that
others might be deterred from hoarding.
These different kinds of monks were first established in various parts
of Egypt; but their way of life was soon taken up in other countries;
and societies of women, who were called _nuns_ (that is to say
_mothers_), were formed under the same kind of rules.
One thing which had much to do with making monkish life so common was,
that when persecution by the heathen was at an end, many Christians felt
the want of something which might assure them that they were separate
from the world, as Christ's true people ought to be. It was no longer
enough that they should call themselves Christians; for the world had
come to call itself Christian too. Perhaps we may think that it would
have been better if those who wished to live religiously had tried to go
on doing their duty in the world, and to improve it by the example and
the influence of holy and charitable lives, instead of running away from
it. And they were certainly much mistaken if they fancied that by hiding
themselves in the desert they were likely to escape temptation. For
temptations followed them into their retreats, and we have only too many
proofs, in the accounts of famous monks, that the effect of this mistake
was often very sad indeed. And we may be sure that if the good men who
in those days were active in recommending the life of monks had been
able to foresee how things would turn out, they would have been much
more cautious in what they said of it.
It was not every one who was fit for such a life, and many took it up
without rightly considering whether they _were_ fit for it. The kind of
work which was provided for them was not enough to occupy them
thoroughly, and many of them suffered grievously from temptations to
which their idleness laid them open. It was supposed, indeed, that they
might find the thoughts of heavenly things enough to fill their minds;
and, when a philosopher asked Antony how he could live without books, he
answered that for him the whole creation was a book, always at hand, in
which he could read God's word whenever he pleased. But it was not every
one who could find such delight in that great book; and many of the
monks, for want of employment, were tormented by all sorts of evil
thoughts, nay, some of them were even driven into madness by their way
of life.
The monks ran into very strange mistakes as to their duty towards their
kindred. Even Antony himself, although he was free from many of the
faults of spiritual pride and the like, which became too common among
his followers, thought himself bound to overcome his love for his young
sister. And, as another sample of the way in which monks were expected
to deaden their natural affections, I may tell you how his disciple Pior
behaved. Pior, when a youth, left his father's house, and vowed that he
would never again look on any of his relations--which was surely a very
rash and foolish and wrong vow. He went into the desert, and had lived
there fifty years, when his sister heard that he was still alive. She
was too infirm to go in search of him, but she contrived that the abbot,
under whose authority he was, should order him to pay her a visit. Pior
went accordingly, and, when he had reached her house, he stood in front
of it, and sent to tell her that he was there. The poor old woman made
all haste to get to him; her heart was full of love and delight at the
thoughts of seeing her brother again after so long a separation. But as
soon as Pior heard the door opening, he shut his eyes, and he kept them
shut all through the meeting. He refused to go into his sister's house,
and when he had let her see him for a short time in this way, without
showing her any token of kindness, he hurried back to the desert.
In later times monks were usually ordained as clergy of the Church. But
at first it was not intended that they should be so, and in each
monastery there were only so many clergy as were needed for the
performance of Divine service and other works of the ministry. And in
those early days, many monks had a great fear of being ordained
clergymen or bishops, because they thought that the active business in
which bishops and other clergy were obliged to engage, would hinder
their reaching to the higher degrees of holiness. Thus a famous monk,
named Ammonius, on being chosen for a bishopric, cut off one of his
ears, thinking that this blemish would prevent his being made a priest,
as it would have done under the law of Moses (_Lev._ xxi. 17-23); and
when he was told that it was not so in the Christian Church, he
threatened to cut out his tongue.
It was not long before the sight of the great respect which was paid to
the monks led many worthless people to call themselves monks for the
sake of what they might get by doing so. These fellows used to go about,
wearing heavy chains, uncouthly dressed, and behaving roughly; and they
told outrageous stories of visions and of fights with devils which they
pretended to have had. By such tricks they got large sums of money from
people who were foolish enough to encourage them; and they spent it in
the most shameful ways.
But besides these vile hypocrites, many monks who seem to have been
sincere enough ran into very strange extravagances. There was one kind
of them called _Grazers_, who used to live among mountains, without any
roof to shelter them, browsing, like beasts, on grass and herbs, and by
degrees growing much more like beasts than men. And in the beginning of
the fifth century, one Symeon founded a new sort of monks, who were
called _Stylites_ (that is to say, _pillar saints_), from a Greek word,
which means a pillar. Symeon was a Syrian, and lived on the top of one
pillar after another for seven-and-thirty years. Each pillar was higher
than the one before it; the height of the last of them was forty cubits
(or seventy feet), and the top of it was only a yard across. There
Symeon was to be seen, with a heavy iron chain round his neck, and great
numbers of people flocked to visit him; some of them even went all the
way from our own country. And when he was dead, a monk, named Daniel,
got the old cowl which he had worn, and built himself a pillar near
Constantinople, where he lived three-and-thirty years. The high winds
sometimes almost blew him from his place, and sometimes he was covered
for days with snow and ice, until the emperor Leo made him submit to let
a shed be built round the top of his pillar. The fame and influence
which these monks gained were immense. They were supposed to have the
power of prophecy and of miracles; they were consulted even by emperors
and kings, in the most important matters; and sometimes, on great
occasions, when a stylite descended from his pillar, or some famous
hermit left his cell, and appeared among the crowds of a city, he was
able to make everything bend to his will.
We must not be blind to the serious errors of monkery; but we are bound
also to own that God was pleased to make it the means of great good. The
monks did much for the conversion of the heathen, and when the ages of
darkness came on, after the overthrow of the Roman empire in the West,
they rendered inestimable service in preserving the knowledge of
learning and religion, which, but for them, might have utterly perished
from the earth.
CHAPTER XIV.
ST. BASIL AND ST. GREGORY OF NAZIANZUM. COUNCIL OF CONSTANTINOPLE.
PART I. A.D. 373-381.
Although St. Athanasius was now dead, God did not fail to raise up
champions for the true faith. Three of the most famous of these were
natives of Cappadocia--namely, Basil, his brother Gregory of Nyssa, and
his friend Gregory of Nazianzum. But although Gregory of Nyssa was a
very good and learned man, and did great service to the truth by his
writings, there was nothing remarkable in the story of his life; so I
shall only tell you about the other two.
Basil and Gregory of Nazianzum were both born about the year 329. Basil
was of a noble Christian family. Gregory's father had belonged to a
strange sect called Hypsistarians, whose religion was a mixture of
Jewish and heathen notions; but he had been converted from it by his
wife, Nonna, who was a very pious and excellent woman, and, before his
son's birth, he had risen to be bishop of Nazianzum.
The two youths became acquainted at school in Cappadocia, and, when they
were afterwards sent to the famous schools of Athens, they grew into the
closest friendship. They lived and read and walked together: Gregory
says that they had all things common, and that it was as if they had
only one soul in two bodies. Athens was an excellent place for learning
all that the wise men of this world could teach, and therefore students
flocked to it from distant countries. But it was a dangerous place for
Christian young men; for the teachers were heathen philosophers, and
knew well how to entangle them in arguments, so that many of the pupils,
who did not rightly understand the grounds of their faith, were deceived
into giving it up. Thus, at the very time when Basil and Gregory were
at Athens, Julian was also there, sucking in the heathen notions which
led to so much evil when he afterwards became emperor. But the two
Cappadocians kept themselves clear from all the snares of "philosophy
and vain deceit" (_Coloss._ ii. 8); and although they were the foremost
of all the students in Athens for learning, and might have hoped to make
a great figure in the world by their talents, they resolved to give up
all worldly ambition, and to devote themselves to the ministry of the
Church.
So they were both ordained to be clergymen, and their friendship
continued as warm as ever. Gregory did many kind offices to Basil, and
at length, when the archbishopric of Caesarea, the chief city of
Cappadocia, fell vacant, Gregory had a great share in getting his friend
chosen to it. Basil was now in a very high office, with many bishops
under him; and he had become noted as one of the chief defenders of the
Catholic faith. And when the emperor Valens set up Arianism in all other
parts of his dominions, Basil remained at his post, and kept the Church
of Caesarea free from the heresy. Valens came into Cappadocia, and was
angry that, while his wishes were obeyed everywhere else, Basil should
hold out against them: so he sent an officer named Modestus to Caesarea,
and ordered him to require the archbishop to submit, on pain of being
turned out. Modestus told Basil his errand, and threatened him with loss
of his property, torture, banishment, and even death, in case of his
refusal. But Basil was not at all daunted. "Think of some other threat,"
he said, "for these have no influence on me. As for loss of property, I
run no risk, for I have nothing to lose except these mean garments and a
few books. Nor does a Christian care for banishment, since he has no
home upon earth, but makes every country his own; or rather, he looks on
the whole world as God's, and on himself as God's pilgrim upon earth.
Neither can tortures harm me, for my body is so weak that the first blow
would kill me; and death would be a gain, for it would but send me the
sooner to Him for whom I live and labour, and to whom I have long been
journeying."
Modestus returned to his master with an account of what had been said,
and Valens himself soon after came to Caesarea. But when he went to the
cathedral on the festival of the Epiphany, and saw Basil at the head of
his clergy, and witnessed their solemn service, he was struck with awe.
He wished to make an offering, as the custom was, but none of the clergy
went to receive his gift, and he almost fainted at the thought of being
thus rejected from the Church, as if he had no part or lot in it. He
afterwards sent for Basil, and had some conversation with him; and the
end of the affair was, that he not only left Basil in possession of his
see, but bestowed a valuable estate on a hospital which the archbishop
had lately founded.
While Basil had risen, by Gregory's help, to be an archbishop, Gregory
himself was still a presbyter. He would not have taken even this office
but that his father ordained him to it almost by force; and he had a
great dread of being raised to the high and difficult office of a
bishop. But Basil, for certain reasons, wished to establish a bishop in
a little town called Sasima, and he fixed on his old friend, without,
perhaps, thinking so much as he ought to have thought, whether the place
and the man were likely to suit each other. The old bishop of Nazianzum
did all that he could to overcome his son's unwillingness, and Gregory
was consecrated; but he thought himself unkindly used, and complained
much of Basil's behaviour in the matter.
After a time, Basil and other leaders of the orthodox (that is, of those
who _held the right faith_) urged Gregory to undertake a mission to
Constantinople, and he agreed to go, in the hope of being able to do
some good (A.D. 378). The bishopric of that great city had been in the
hands of Arians for nearly forty years, and although there were many
people of other sects there, the orthodox were but a handful. Gregory,
when he began his labours, found that there was a strong feeling against
him and his doctrine. He could not get the use of any church, and was
obliged to hold his service in a friend's house. He was often attacked
by the Arian mob; he was stoned; he was carried before the magistrates
on charges of disturbing the peace; the house which he had turned into a
chapel was broken into by night, and shocking outrages were committed in
it. But the good Gregory held on notwithstanding all this, and, after a
while, his mild and grave character, his eloquent and instructive
preaching, and the piety of his life, wrought a great change, so that
his little place of worship became far too small to hold the crowds
which flocked to it. While Gregory was thus employed, Basil died, in the
year 380.
PART II.
Both parts of the empire were now again under orthodox princes. Valens
had lost his life in war, without leaving any children (A.D. 378), so
that Valentinian's sons, Gratian and Valentinian the Second, were heirs
to the whole. But Gratian felt the burden of government too much for
himself, a lad of nineteen, and for his little brother, who was but
seven years old; and he gave up the East to a brave Spaniard, named
Theodosius, in the hope that he would be able to defend it.
Theodosius came to Constantinople in the year 380, and found things in
the state which has just been described. He turned the Arian bishop and
his clergy out of the churches, and gave Gregory possession of the
cathedral. Gregory knew that the emperor wished to help the cause of the
true faith, and he did as Theodosius wished; but he was very sad and
uneasy at being thus thrust on a flock of which the greater part as yet
refused to own him.
Theodosius then called a council, which met at Constantinople in the
year 381, and is reckoned as the second General Council (the Council of
Nicaea[10] having been the first). One act of this council was to add to
the Nicene Creed some words about the Holy Ghost, by way of guarding
against the errors of a party who were called Macedonians, after one
Macedonius, who had been bishop of Constantinople; for these people
denied the true doctrine as to the Holy Ghost, although they had given
up the errors of Arius as to the Godhead of our blessed Lord.
[10] See chapter XI.
But afterwards, some of the bishops who attended the council fell to
disputing about the choice of a bishop for Antioch; and Gregory, who
tried to persuade them to agree, found that, instead of heeding his
advice, they all fell on him; and they behaved so shamefully to him that
he gave up his bishopric, which, indeed, he had before wished to do.
Theodosius was very sorry to lose so good a man from that important
place; but Gregory was glad to get away from its troubles and anxieties
to the quiet life which he best loved. He took charge of the diocese of
Nazianzum (which had been vacant since his father's death, some year's
before), until a regular bishop was appointed to it; and he spent his
last days in retirement, soothing himself with religious poetry and
music. One of the holiest men of our own Church, Bishop Ken (the author
of the Morning and Evening Hymns), used often to compare himself with
St. Gregory of Nazianzum; for Bishop Ken, too, was driven from his
bishopric in troubled times, and, in the poverty, sickness, and sorrow
of his last years, he, too, used to find relief in playing on his lute,
and in writing hymns and other devout poems.
Theodosius was resolved to establish the right faith, according as the
council had laid it down. But it seems that at one time some of the
bishops were afraid lest an Arian, named Eunomius, should get an
influence over his mind, and should persuade him to favour the Arians.
And there is a curious story of the way in which one of these bishops,
who was a homely old man, from some retired little town, tried to show
the emperor that he ought not to encourage heretics. On a day when a
number of bishops went to pay their respects at court, this old man,
after having saluted the emperor very respectfully, turned to his
eldest son, the young emperor Arcadius, and stroked his head as if he
had been any common boy. Theodosius was very angry at this behaviour,
and ordered that the bishop should be turned out. But as the officers of
the palace were hurrying him towards the door, the old man addressed the
emperor, and told him that as _he_ was angry on account of the slight
offered to the prince, even so would the Heavenly Father be offended
with those who should refuse to His Son the honours which they paid to
Himself. Theodosius was much struck by this speech; he begged the
bishop's forgiveness, and showed his regard for the admonition by
keeping Eunomius and the rest of the Arians at a distance.
The emperor then made some severe laws, forbidding all sorts of sects to
hold their worship, and requiring them to join the Catholic Church. Now
this was, no doubt, a great mistake; for it is impossible to force
religious belief on people; and although Christian princes ought to
support the true faith by making laws in favour of it, it is wrong to
make men pretend a belief which they do not feel in their hearts. But
Theodosius had not had the same opportunities which we have since had of
seeing how useless such laws are, and what mischief they generally do;
so that, instead of blaming him, we must give him credit for acting in
the way which he believed most likely to promote the glory of God and
the good of his subjects. And, although some of his laws seem very
severe, there is reason to think that these were never acted on.
But about the same time, in another part of the empire, which had been
usurped by one Maximus, an unhappy man, named Priscillian, and some of
his companions, were put to death on account of heresy. Such things
became sadly too common afterwards; but at the time the punishment of
Priscillian struck all good men with horror. St. Martin, bishop of
Tours, who was called "The Apostle of the Gauls," did all that he could
to prevent it. St. Ambrose (of whom you will hear more in the next
chapter) would not, on any account, have to do with the bishops who had
been concerned in it; and the chief of these bishops was afterwards
turned out of his see, and died in banishment. We may do well to
remember that this first instance of punishing heresy with death, was
under the government of an usurper, who had made his way to power by
rebellion and murder.
CHAPTER XV.
ST. AMBROSE.
A.D. 374-397.
The greatest bishop of the West in these times was St. Ambrose, of
Milan. He was born about the year 340, and thus was ten or twelve years
younger than St. Basil and St. Gregory of Nazianzum. His father had held
a very high office under the emperors; Ambrose himself was brought up as
a lawyer, and had risen to be governor of Liguria, a large country in
the north of Italy, of which Milan was the chief city.
The bishop of Milan, who was an Arian, died in the year 374, and then a
great dispute arose between the orthodox and the Arians as to choosing a
new bishop, so that it seemed as if they might even come to blows about
it. When both parties were assembled in the cathedral for the election,
the governor, Ambrose, went and made them a speech, desiring them to
manage their business peaceably; and it is said that, as soon as he had
done, a little child's voice was heard crying out "Ambrose bishop!" All
at once, the whole assembly caught up the words, which seemed to have
something providential in them; and they insisted that the governor
should be the new bishop. Now although Ambrose had been brought up as a
Christian, he was still only a catechumen, and had never thought of
being a bishop, or a clergyman of any kind; and he was afraid to
undertake so high and holy an office. He therefore did all that he could
to get himself excused. He tried to make the people of Milan think that
his temper was too severe; but they saw through his attempts. He then
escaped from the town more than once, but he was brought back.
Valentinian, who was then emperor, approved the choice of a bishop; and
Ambrose was first baptized, and a few days afterwards he was
consecrated.
He now studied very hard, in order to make up for his want of
preparation for his office. He was very active in all sorts of pious and
charitable works, and he soon became famous as a preacher. His steady
firmness in maintaining the orthodox faith was especially shown when
Valentinian's widow, Justina, who was an Arian, wished to take one of
the churches of Milan from the Catholics, and to give it to her own
sect; and after a hard struggle, Ambrose got the better of her. He
afterwards gained a very great influence both over Justina's son,
Valentinian II., and over his elder brother Gratian. And when Gratian
had been murdered by the friends of Maximus (the same Maximus who put
Priscillian to death), and Theodosius came into the West to avenge his
murder (A.D. 388), Ambrose had no less power with Theodosius than he had
had with the younger emperors.
Theodosius took up his abode for a time at Milan after he had defeated
and slain the usurper Maximus. Soon after his arrival in the city, he
went to service at the cathedral, and was going to seat himself in the
part of it nearest to the altar, as at Constantinople the emperor's seat
was in that part of the church. But Ambrose stopped him, and told him
that none but the clergy were allowed to sit there; and he begged the
emperor to take a place at the head of the people outside the
altar-rails. Theodosius was so far from being angry at this, that he
thanked the bishop, and explained to him how it was that he had made the
mistake of going within the rails; and when he got back to
Constantinople, he astonished his courtiers by ordering that his seat
should be removed to a place answering to that in which he had sat at
Milan; for that, he said, was much more seemly and proper.
There are other stories about Ambrose's dealings with Theodosius; but I
shall mention only one, which is the most famous of all. One day when
there was to be a great chariot race at Thessalonica, it happened that a
famous charioteer, who was a favourite with the people of the town, had
been put in prison by the governor on account of a very serious crime.
On this a mob went to the governor, and demanded that the man should be
set at liberty. The governor refused; and thereupon the mob grew
furious, and murdered him, with a number of his soldiers and other
persons. The emperor might have been excused for showing heavy
displeasure at this outrage; but unhappily the great fault of his
character was a readiness to give way to violent fits of passion; and on
hearing what had been done, his anger knew no bounds. Ambrose, who was
afraid lest some serious mischief should follow, did all that he could
to soothe the emperor, and got a promise from him that the Thessalonians
should be spared. But some other advisers afterwards got about
Theodosius, and again inflamed his mind against the offenders, so that
he gave orders for a fearful act of cruel and treacherous vengeance. The
people of Thessalonica were invited in the emperor's name to some games
in the circus or amphitheatre, which was a building open to the sky, and
large enough to hold many thousands. And when they were all gathered
together in the place, instead of the amusement which had been promised
them, they were fallen on by soldiers, who for three hours carried on a
savage butchery; sparing neither old men, women, nor children, and
making no difference between innocent and guilty, Thessalonian or
stranger. Among those who had come to see the games there was a foreign
merchant, who had had no concern in the outrage of the mob, which was
punished in this frightful way. He had two sons with him, and he offered
his own life, with all that he had, if the soldiers would but spare one
of them. The soldiers were willing to agree to this, but the poor
father could not make up his mind which of the sons he should choose;
and the soldiers, who were too much enraged by their horrid work to make
any allowance for his feelings, stabbed both the youths before his eyes
at the same moment. The number of persons slain in the massacre is not
certain: there were at least as many as seven thousand, and some writers
say that there were fifteen thousand.
When Ambrose heard of this shocking affair, he was filled with grief and
horror; for he had relied on the emperor's promise to spare the
Thessalonians, and great care had been taken that he should not know
anything of the orders which had been afterwards sent off. He wrote a
letter to Theodosius, exhorting him to repent, and telling him that,
unless he did so, he could not be admitted to the holy Communion. This
letter brought the emperor to feel that he had done very wrongly; but
Ambrose wished to make him feel it far more. As Theodosius was about to
enter the cathedral, the bishop met him in the porch, and, laying hold
on his robe, desired him to withdraw, because he was a man stained with
innocent blood. The emperor said that he was deeply grieved for his
offence; but Ambrose told him that this was not enough--that he must
show some more public proofs of his repentance for so great a sin. The
emperor withdrew accordingly to his palace, where he shut himself up for
eight months, refusing to wear his imperial robes, and spending his time
in sadness and penitence. At length, when Christmas was drawing near, he
went to the bishop, and humbly begged that he might be admitted into the
Church again. Ambrose desired him to give some substantial token of his
sorrow, and the emperor agreed to make a law by which no sentence of
death should be executed until thirty days after it had been passed.
This law was meant to prevent any more such sad effects of sudden
passion in princes as the massacre of Thessalonica. The emperor was then
allowed to enter the church, where he fell down on the pavement, with
every appearance of the deepest grief and humiliation; and it is said
that from that time he never spent a day without remembering the crime
into which his passion had betrayed him.
Theodosius was the last emperor who kept up the ancient glory of Rome.
He is called "the Great," and in many respects was well deserving of the
name. He died in 395, and St. Ambrose died within two years after, on
Easter eve, in the year 397.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE TEMPLE OF SERAPIS.
A.D. 391.
In the account of Constantine, it was mentioned that the emperors after
their conversion did not try to put down heathenism by force, or all at
once.[11] For the wise teachers of the Church knew that this would not
be the right way of going to work, but that it would be more likely to
make the heathens obstinate, than to convert them. Thus St. Augustine
(of whom I shall have more to tell you by-and-by) says in one of his
sermons--"We must first endeavour to break the idols in their hearts.
When they themselves become Christians, they will either invite us to
the good work of destroying their idols, or they will be beforehand with
us in doing so. And in the mean while, we must pray for them, not be
angry with them."
[11] Page 39.
But in course of time, as the people were more and more brought off from
heathenism, and as the belief of the Gospel worked its way more
thoroughly among all classes of them, laws were sent forth against
offering sacrifices, burning incense, and the like, to the heathen gods.
These laws were by degrees made stricter and stricter, until, in the
reign of Theodosius, it was forbidden to do any act of heathen worship.
And I may now tell you what took place as to the idols of Egypt in this
reign.
It was in the year 391 that an old heathen temple at Alexandria was
given up to the bishop of the city, who wished to build a church on the
spot. In digging out the foundation for the church, some strange and
disgusting things, which had been used in the heathen worship, were
found; and some of the Christians carried these about the streets by way
of mocking at the religion of the heathens. The heathen part of the
inhabitants were enraged; a number of them made an uproar, killed some
Christians, and then shut themselves up in the temple of one of their
gods called Serapis, whom they believed to be the protector of
Alexandria. This temple was surrounded by the houses of the priests and
other buildings; and the whole was so vast and so magnificent, that it
was counted as one of the wonders of the world.
The rioters, who had shut themselves up in the temple, used to rush out
from it now and then, killing some of the Christians who fell in their
way, and carrying off others as prisoners. These prisoners were desired
to offer sacrifice: if they refused, they were cruelly tortured, and
some of them were even crucified. A report of these doings was sent to
Theodosius, and he ordered that all the temples of Alexandria should be
destroyed. The governor invited the defenders of the temple of Serapis
to attend in the market-place, where the emperor's sentence was to be
read; and, on hearing what it was, they fled in all directions, so that
the soldiers, who were sent to the temple, found nobody there to
withstand them.
The idol of Serapis was of such vast size that it reached from one side
of the temple to the other. It was adorned with jewels, and was covered
with plates of gold and silver; and its worshippers believed that, if it
were hurt in any way, heaven and earth would go to wreck. So when a
soldier mounted a ladder, and raised his axe against it, the heathens
who stood by were in great terror, and even some of the Christians could
not help feeling a little uneasiness as to what might follow. But the
stout soldier first made a blow which struck off one of the idol's
cheeks, and then dashed his axe into one of his knees. Serapis, however,
bore all this quietly, and the bystanders began to draw their breath
more freely. The soldier worked away manfully, and, after a while, the
huge head of the idol came crashing down, when a swarm of rats, which
had long made their home in it, rushed forth, and scampered off in all
directions. Even the heathens who were in the crowd, on seeing this,
began to laugh at their god. The idol was demolished, and the pieces of
it were carried into the circus, where a bonfire was made of them; and,
in examining the temple, a number of tricks by which the priests had
deceived the people were found out, so that many heathens were converted
in consequence of having thus seen the vanity of their old religion, and
the falsehood of the means by which it was kept up.
Egypt, as you perhaps know, does not depend on rain for its crops, but
on the rising of the river Nile, which floods the country at a certain
season; and the heathens had long said that the Christians were afraid
to destroy the idols of Egypt, lest the gods should punish them by not
allowing the water to rise. After the destruction of Serapis, the usual
time for the rising of the river came, but there were no signs of it;
and the heathens began to be in great delight, and to boast that their
gods were going to take vengeance. Some weak Christians, too, began to
think that there might be some truth in this, and sent to ask the
emperor what should be done. "Better," he said, "that the Nile should
not rise at all, than that we should buy the fruitfulness of Egypt by
idolatry!" After a while the Nile began to swell; it soon mounted above
the usual height of its flood, and the Pagans were now in hopes that
Serapis was about to avenge himself by such a deluge as would punish the
Christians for the destruction of the idol; but they were again
disappointed by seeing the waters sink down to their proper level.
The emperor's orders were executed by the destruction of the Egyptian
temples and their idols. But we are told that the bishop of Alexandria
saved one image as a curiosity, and lest people should afterwards deny
that their forefathers had ever been so foolish as to worship such
things. Some say that this image was a figure of Jupiter, the chief of
the heathen gods; others say that it was the figure of a monkey; for
even monkeys were worshipped by the Egyptians!
CHAPTER XVII.
CHURCH GOVERNMENT.
By this time the Gospel had not only been firmly settled as the religion
of the great Roman empire, but had made its way into most other
countries of the world then known. Here, then, we may stop to take a
view of some things connected with the Church; and it will be well, in
doing so, to remember what is wisely said by our own Church, in her
thirty-fourth article, which is about "the Traditions of the Church"
(that is to say, the practices _handed down_ in the Church):--"It is not
necessary that traditions and ceremonies be in all places one, and
utterly like; for at all times they have been divers" (that is, they
have differed in different parts of Christ's Church), "and they may be
changed according to the diversities of countries, times, and men's
manners, so that nothing be ordained against God's word."
First, then, as to the ministers of the Church. The three orders which
had been from the beginning,--bishops, presbyters (or priests), and
deacons,[12] were considered to stand by themselves, as the only orders
_necessary_ to a church. But early in the third century a number of
other orders were introduced, all lower than that of deacons. These were
the _sub-deacons_, who helped the deacons in the care of the poor, and
of the property belonging to the church; the _acolyths_, who lighted
the lamps, and assisted in the celebration of the sacraments; the
_exorcists_, who took charge of persons suffering from afflictions
resembling the possession by devils which is spoken of in the New
Testament; the _readers_, whose business it was to read the Scriptures
in church; and the _doorkeepers_. All these were considered to belong to
the clergy; just as if among ourselves the organist, the clerk, the
sexton, the singers, and the bell-ringers of a church were to be
reckoned as clergy, and were to be appointed to their offices by a
religious ceremony or ordination. But these new orders were not used
everywhere, and, as has been said, the persons who were in these orders
were not considered to be clergy in the same way as those of the three
higher orders which had been ever since the days of the Apostles.
[12] Page 6.
There were also, in the earliest times, women called _deaconesses_, such
as Phoebe, who is mentioned in the Epistle to the Romans (xvi. I).
These deaconesses (who were often pious widows) were employed among
Christians of their own sex, for such works of mercy and instruction as
were not fit for men to do (or, at least, were supposed not to be so
according to the manners of the Greeks, and of the other ancient
nations). But the order of deaconesses does not seem to have lasted
long.
All bishops, as I have said already, are of one order.[13] But in course
of time, it was found convenient for the government of the Church, that
some of them should be placed higher than others; and the way in which
this was settled was very natural. The bishops of a country found it
desirable to meet sometimes, that they might consult with each other, as
we are told that the Apostles did at Jerusalem (_Acts_ xv.); and in most
countries these meetings (which were called _synods_ or _councils_) came
to be regularly held once or twice a year. The chief city of each
district was naturally the place of meeting; and the bishop of this city
was naturally the chairman or president of the assembly--just as we
read that, in the council of the Apostles, St. James, who was bishop of
Jerusalem, where it was held, spoke with the greatest authority, after
all the rest, and that his "sentence" was given as the judgment of the
assembly. These bishops, then, got the title of _metropolitans_, because
each was bishop of the _metropolis_ (or _mother-city_) of the country in
which the council was held; and thus they came to be considered higher
than their brethren. And, of course, when any messages or letters were
to be sent to the churches of other countries, the metropolitan was the
person in whose name it was done.
[13] Page 6.
And, as all this was the natural course of things in every country, it
was also natural that the bishops of very great cities should be
considered as still higher than the ordinary metropolitans. Thus the
bishoprics of Rome, of Alexandria, and of Antioch, which were the three
greatest cities of the empire, were regarded as the chief bishoprics,
and as superior to all others. Those of Rome and Antioch were both
supposed to have been founded by St. Peter, and Alexandria was believed
to have been founded by St. Mark, under the direction of St. Peter.
Hence it afterwards came to be thought that this was the cause of their
greatness; and the bishops of Rome, especially, liked to have this
believed, because they could then pretend to claim some sort of especial
power, which they said that our Lord had given to St. Peter above the
other Apostles, and that St. Peter had left it to his successors. But
such claims were quite unfounded, and it is clear that the real reason
why these three churches stood higher than others was that they were in
the three greatest cities of the whole empire.
But the Church of Rome had many advantages over Alexandria and Antioch,
as well as over every other. It was the greatest and the richest of all,
so that it could send help to distressed Christians in all countries. No
other church of the West had an Apostle to boast of, but Rome could
boast of the two great Apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul, who had
laboured in it, and had given their blood for the faith in the Gospel in
it. Most of the western nations had received their knowledge of the
Gospel through the Roman Church, and on this account they looked up with
respect to it as a mother. And as people from all parts of the empire
were continually going to Rome and returning, the Church of the great
capital kept up a constant intercourse with other churches in all
quarters. Thus the bishops of Rome were naturally much respected
everywhere, and, so long as they did not take too much upon themselves,
great regard was paid to their opinion; but when they tried to interfere
with the rights of other bishops, or to lord it over other churches,
they were firmly withstood, and were desired to keep within their proper
bounds, as Stephen of Rome was by St. Cyprian of Carthage.[14]
[14] Page 29.
Another thing must be mentioned as creditable to the Roman Church, and
as one which did much to raise the power of its bishops. The heresies
which we have read of, all began in the East, where the people were more
sharp-witted and restless in their thoughts than those of the West. The
Romans, on the other hand, had not the turn of mind which led to these
errors, but rather attended to practical things. Hence they were
disposed to hold to the faith which had come down to them from their
fathers, and to defend it against the new opinions which were brought
forward from time to time. This steadiness, then, gave them a great
advantage over the Christians of the East, who were frequently changing
from one thing to another. It gained for the Roman Church much credit
and authority; and when the great Arian controversy arose, the effects
of the difference between the eastern and the western character were
vastly increased. The Romans (except for a short time, when a bishop
named Liberius was won over by the Arians) kept to their old faith. The
eastern parties looked to the bishop of Rome as if he had the whole
western Church in his hands. They constantly carried their quarrels to
him, asking him to give his help, and he was the strongest friend that
they could find anywhere. And when the side which Rome had always
upheld got the victory at last, the importance of the Roman bishops rose
in consequence. But even after all this, if the bishop of Rome tried to
meddle with other churches, his right to do so was still denied. Many
canons (that is to say, _rules of the Church_) were made to forbid the
carrying of any quarrel for judgment beyond the country in which it
began; and, however glad the churches of Africa and of the East were to
have the bishop of Rome for a friend, they would never allow him to
assume the airs of a master.
And from the time when Constantinople was built in the place of
Byzantium, a new great Church arose. Byzantium had been only a common
bishopric, and for a time Constantinople was not called anything more
than a common bishopric; but in real importance it was very much more,
so that even a bishop of Antioch, the third see in the whole Christian
world, thought himself advanced when he was made bishop of
Constantinople instead. But the second General Council (which as we have
seen[15] was held at Constantinople in the year 381) made a canon by
which Constantinople was placed next to Rome, "because," as the canon
said, "it is a new Rome." This raised the jealousy, not only of Antioch,
and still more of Alexandria, at having an upstart bishopric (as they
considered it) put over their heads; but it gave great offence to the
bishops of Rome, who could not bear such a rivalry as was now
threatened, and were besides very angry on account of the reason which
was given for placing Constantinople next after Rome. For the council,
when it said that Constantinople was to be second among all Churches,
because of its being "a new Rome," meant to say that the reason why Rome
itself stood first was nothing more than its being the old capital of
the empire, whereas the bishops of Rome wished it to be thought that
their power was founded on their being the successors of St. Peter.
[15] Page 70.
We shall by-and-by see something of the effects of these jealousies.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
PART I.
In the early days of the Gospel, while the Christians were generally
poor, and when they were obliged to meet in fear of the heathen, their
worship was held in private houses, and sometimes in burial-places
under-ground. But after a time buildings were expressly set apart for
worship. It has been mentioned that in the years of quiet, between the
death of Valerian and the last persecution (A.D. 261-303), these
churches were built much more handsomely than before, and were furnished
with gold and silver plate and other rich ornaments.[16] And after the
conversion of Constantine, they became still finer and costlier. The
clergy then wore rich dresses at service, the music was less simple, and
the ceremonies were multiplied. Some of the old heathen temples were
turned into churches; but temples were not built in a shape very
suitable for Christian worship, and the pattern of the new churches was
rather taken from the halls of justice, called _Basilicas_, which were
to be found in every large town. These buildings were of an oblong
shape, with a broad middle part, and on each side of it an aisle,
separated from it by a row of pillars. This lower part of the basilica
was used by merchants who met to talk about their business, and by all
sorts of loungers who met to tell and hear the news. But at the upper
end of the oblong there was a half circle, with its floor raised above
the level of the rest; and in the middle of this part the judge of the
city sat. Now if you will compare this description with the plan of a
church, you will see that the broad middle part of the basilica answers
to what is called the _body_ or _nave_ of the church; that the side
_aisles_ are alike in each; and that the further part of the basilica,
with its raised floor, answers to the _chancel_ of a church; while the
_holy table_, or _altar_, stands in the place answering to the judge's
seat in the basilica. Some of these halls were given up by the emperors
to be turned into churches, and the plan of them was found convenient as
a pattern in the building of new churches.
[16] Page 32.
On entering a church, the first part was the _Porch_, in which there
were places for the catechumens (that is to say, those who were
preparing for baptism); for those who were supposed to be possessed with
devils, and who were under the care of the _exorcists_;[17] and for the
lowest kinds of those who were undergoing penance. Beyond this porch
were the _Beautiful Gates_, which opened into the _Nave_ of the church.
Just within these gates were those penitents whose time of penance was
nearly ended; and the rest of the nave was the place for the
_faithful_--that is to say, for those who were admitted to all the
privileges of Christians. At the upper end of the nave, a place called
the _Choir_ was railed in for the singers; and then, last of all, came
the raised part or chancel, which has been spoken of. This was called
the _Sanctuary_, and was set apart for the clergy only. The women sat in
church apart from the men; sometimes they were in the aisles, and
sometimes in galleries. Churches generally had a court in front of them
or about them, in which were the lodgings of the clergy, and a building
for the administration of baptism, called the _Baptistery_.
[17] Page 81.
In the early times, churches were not adorned with pictures or statues;
for Christians were at first afraid to have any ornaments of the kind,
lest they should fall into idolatry like the heathen. No such things as
images or pictures of our Lord, or of His saints, were known among them;
and in their every-day life, instead of the figures of gods, with which
the heathens used to adorn their houses, their furniture, their cups,
and their seals, the Christians made use of emblems only. Thus, instead
of pretending to make a likeness of our Lord's human form, they made a
figure of a shepherd carrying a lamb on his shoulders, to signify the
Good Shepherd who gave his life for his sheep (_St. John_ x. 11). Other
ornaments of the same kind were--a _dove_, signifying the Holy Ghost; a
_ship_, signifying the Church, the ark of salvation, sailing towards
heaven; a _fish_, which was meant to remind them of their having been
born again in the water, at their baptism; a musical instrument called a
_lyre_, to signify Christian joy; and an _anchor_, the figure of
Christian hope. About the year 300, the Council of Elvira, in Spain,
made a canon forbidding pictures in church, which shows that the
practice had then begun, and was growing; and also that in Spain, at
least, it was thought to be dangerous (as indeed it too surely proved to
be). And a hundred years later, Epiphanius, a famous bishop of Salamis,
in the island of Cyprus, tore a curtain which he found hanging in a
church, with a figure of our Lord, or of some saint, painted on it. He
declared that such things were altogether unlawful, and desired that the
curtain might be used to bury some poor man in, promising to send the
church a plain one instead of it.
Christians used to sign themselves with the sign of the cross on many
occasions, and figures of the cross were early set up in churches. But
crucifixes (which are figures of our Lord on the cross, although
ignorant people sometimes call the cross itself a crucifix) were not
known until hundreds of years after the time of which we are now
speaking.
PART II.
The church-service of Christians was always the same as to its main
parts, although there were little differences as to order and the like.
Justin Martyr, who lived (as we have seen) about the middle of the
second century,[18] describes the service as it was in his time. It
began, he says, with readings from the Scriptures; then followed a
discourse by the chief clergyman who was present; and there was much
singing, of which a part was from the Old Testament psalms, while a part
was made up of hymns on Christian subjects. The discourses of the clergy
were generally meant to explain the Scripture lessons which had been
read. At first these discourses were very plain, and as much as possible
like ordinary talk; and from this they got the name of _homilies_, which
properly meant nothing more than _conversations_. But by degrees they
grew to be more like speeches, and people used to flock to them, just as
many do now, from a wish to hear something fine, rather than with any
notion of taking the preacher's words to heart, and trying to be made
better by them. And in the fourth century, when a clergyman preached
eloquently, the people used to cheer him on by clapping their hands,
waving their handkerchiefs, and shouting out, "Orthodox!" "Thirteenth
apostle!" or other such cries. Good men, of course, did not like to be
treated in this way, as if they were actors at a theatre; and we often
find St. Chrysostom and St. Augustine (of both of whom you will hear
by-and-by) objecting to it in their sermons, and begging their hearers
not to show their admiration in such foolish and unseemly ways. But it
seems that the people went on with it nevertheless; and no doubt there
must have been some preachers who were vain enough and silly enough to
be pleased with it.
[18] See Chapter III.
In the time of the Apostles the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was
celebrated in the evening, as it had been by our blessed Lord Himself on
the night in which He was betrayed. Thus it was, for instance, when the
disciples at Troas "came together upon the first day of the week
(Sunday) to break bread" (that is, to celebrate the Lord's Supper), and
"Paul preached unto them, and continued his speech until midnight"
(_Acts_ xx. 7). In the service for this sacrament there was a
thanksgiving to God for His bounty in bestowing the fruits of the earth.
The congregation offered gifts of bread and wine, and from these the
elements which were to be consecrated were taken. They also brought
gifts of money, which was used for the relief of the poor, for the
support of the clergy, and for other good and religious purposes. Either
before or after the sacrament, there was a meal called the _Love-feast_,
for which all the members of the congregation brought provisions,
according as they could afford. All of them sat down to it as equals, in
token of their being alike in Christ's brotherhood; and it ended with
psalm-singing and prayer. But even in very early days (as St. Paul shows
us in his first epistle to the Corinthians, xi. 21, 22), there was sad
misbehaviour at these meals; and besides this, such religious feasts
gave the heathen an excuse for their stories that the Christians met to
feed on human flesh and to commit other abominations in secret.[19] For
these reasons, after a time, the love-feast was separated from the holy
Communion, and at length it was entirely given up.
[19] See page 7.
In the second century, the administration of the Lord's Supper, instead
of being in the evening as at first, was added on to the morning
service, and then a difference was made between the two parts of the
service. At the earlier part of it the catechumens and penitents might
be present, but when the Communion office was going to begin, a deacon
called out, "Let no one of the catechumens or of the hearers stay."
After this none were allowed to remain except those who were entitled to
communicate, which all baptized Christians did in those days, unless
they were shut out from the Church on account of their misdeeds. The
"breaking of bread" in the Lord's Supper was at first daily, as we know
from the early chapters of the Acts (ii. 46); but this practice does not
seem to have lasted beyond the time when the faith of the Christians was
in its first warmth, and it became usual to celebrate the holy Communion
on the Lord's day only. When Christianity became the religion of the
empire, and there was now no fear of persecution, the earlier part of
the service was open not only to catechumens and penitents, but to Jews
and heathens; and in the fifth century, when the Church was mostly made
up of persons who had been baptized and trained in Christianity from
their infancy, the distinction between the "service of the catechumens"
and the "service of the faithful" was no longer kept up.
The length of time during which converts were obliged to be catechumens
before being admitted to baptism differed in different parts of the
Church. In some places it was two years, in some three years; but if
during this time they fell sick and appeared to be in danger of death,
they were baptized without waiting any longer.
At baptism, those who received it professed their faith, or their
sponsors did so for them, and from this began the use of _creeds_,
containing, in few words, the chief articles of the Christian faith. The
sign of the cross was made over those who were baptized, "in token that
they should not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, and
manfully to fight under His banner against sin, the world, and the
devil, and to continue Christ's faithful soldiers and servants unto
their life's end." The kiss of peace was given to them in token of their
being taken into spiritual brotherhood; white robes were put on them, to
signify their cleansing from sin; and a mixture of milk and honey was
administered to them, as if to give them a foretaste of their heavenly
inheritance, of which the earthly Canaan, "flowing with milk and honey"
(_Exod._ iii. 8, &c.) had been a figure. Other ceremonies were added in
the fourth century, such as the use of salt and lights, and an anointing
with oil in token of their being "made kings and priests to God" (_Rev._
i. 6; 1 _Pet._ ii. 5-9), besides the anointing with a mixture called
_chrism_ at confirmation, which had been practised in earlier times.
The usual time of baptism was the season from Easter-eve to Whitsuntide;
but in case of danger, persons might be baptized at any time.
PART III.
During the fourth century there was a growth of superstitions and
corruptions in the Church. Great numbers of converts came into it,
bringing their old heathen notions with them, and not well knowing what
they might expect, but with an eager desire to find as much to interest
them in the worship and life of Christians as they had found in the
ceremonies and shows of their former religion. And in order that such
converts might not be altogether disappointed, the Christian teachers of
the age allowed a number of things which soon began to have very bad
effects; thus, as we are told in the preface to our own Prayer-book, St.
Augustine complained that in his time (which was about the year 400)
ceremonies "were grown to such a number that the estate of Christian
people was in worse case concerning that matter than were the Jews."
Among the corruptions which were now growing, although they did not come
to a head until afterwards, one was an excess of reverence for saints,
which led to the practices of making addresses to them, and of paying
superstitious honours to their dead bodies. Another corruption was the
improper use of paintings or images, which even in St. Augustine's time
had gone so far that, as he owns with sorrow, many of the ignorant were
"worshippers of pictures." Another was the fashion of going on
pilgrimage to the Holy Land, in which Constantine's mother, Helena, set
an example which was soon followed by thousands, who not only fancied
that the sight of the places hallowed by the great events of Scripture
would kindle or heighten their devotion, but that prayers would be
especially pleasing to God if they were offered up in such places. And
thus great numbers flocked to Palestine from all quarters, and even from
Britain, among other countries; and on their return they carried back
with them water from the Jordan, earth from the Redeemer's sepulchre, or
what they believed to be chips of the true cross, which was supposed to
have been found during Helena's visit to Jerusalem. The mischiefs of
this fashion soon showed themselves. St. Basil's brother, Gregory of
Nyssa, wrote a little book expressly for the purpose of persuading
people not to go on pilgrimage. He said that he himself had been neither
better nor worse for a visit which he had paid to the Holy Land; but
that such a pilgrimage might even be dangerous for others, because the
inhabitants of the country were so vicious that there was more
likelihood of getting harm from them than good from the sight of the
holy places. "We should rather try," he said, "to go out of the body
than to drag it about from place to place." Another very learned man of
the same time, St. Jerome, although he had taken up his own abode at
Bethlehem, saw so much of the evils which arose from pilgrimages that he
gave very earnest warnings against them. "It is no praise," he says, "to
have been at Jerusalem, but to have lived religiously at Jerusalem. The
sight of the places where our Lord died and rose again are profitable to
those who bear their own cross and daily rise again with Him. But for
those who say, 'The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord'
(_Jerem._ vii. 4), let them hear the Apostle's words, '_Ye_ are the
temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwelleth in you' (1 _Cor._ iii.
16). The court of heaven is open to approach from Jerusalem and from
Britain alike; 'for the kingdom of God is _within_ you'" (_St. Luke_
xvii. 21).
There were, indeed, some persons who rose up to oppose the errors of
which I have been speaking. But unhappily they mixed up the truths which
they wished to teach with so many errors of their own, and they carried
on their opposition so unwisely, that, instead of doing good, they did
harm, by setting people against such truth as they taught on account of
the error which was joined with it, and of the wrong way which they took
of teaching it. By such opposition the growth of superstition was not
checked, but advanced and strengthened.
CHAPTER XIX.
ARCADIUS AND HONORIUS.
A.D. 395-423.
The great emperor Theodosius was succeeded in 395 by his two sons,
Arcadius, who was eighteen years of age, and Honorius, who was only
eleven. Arcadius had the east, and Honorius the west; and after this
division, the empire was never again united in anything like the full
extent of its old greatness. The reigns of these princes were full of
misfortunes, especially in the western empire, where swarms of
barbarians poured down from the north, and did a vast deal of mischief.
One of these barbarous nations, the Goths, whose king was named Alaric,
thrice besieged Rome itself. The first time, Alaric was bought off by a
large sum of money. After the second siege, he set up an emperor of his
own making; and after the third siege, the city was given up to his
soldiers for plunder. Rude as these Goths were, they had been brought
over to a kind of Christianity, although it was not the true faith of
the Church. There had, indeed, been Christians among the Goths nearly
150 years before this time; for many of them had been converted by
Christian captives, whom they carried off in the reigns of Valerian and
Gallienus, about the year 260; and a Gothic bishop, named Theophilus,
had sat at the council of Nicaea. But great changes had since been
wrought among them by a remarkable man named Ulfilas, who was
consecrated as their bishop in the year 348. He found that they did not
know the use of letters; so he made an alphabet for them, and translated
the Scriptures into their language, and he taught them many useful arts.
Thus he got such an influence over them, that they received all his
words as law, and he was called "the Moses of the Goths." But,
unhappily, Ulfilas was drawn into Arianism, and this was the doctrine
which he taught to his people, instead of the sound faith which had
before been preached to them by Theophilus and others. But still,
although their Christianity was not of the right kind, it had good
effects on these rough people; and so it appeared when Rome was given
over by the conqueror Alaric to his soldiers. Although they destroyed
temples, they paid great respect to churches; and they did not commit
such terrible acts of cruelty and violence as had been usual when cities
were taken by heathen armies.
I need not say more about these sad times; but I must not forget to tell
what was done by a monk, named Telemachus, in the reign of Honorius. In
the year 403, one of the emperor's generals defeated Alaric in the north
of Italy; and the Romans, who in those days were not much used to
victories, made the most of this one, and held great games in honour of
it. Now the public games of the Romans were generally of a cruel kind.
We have seen how, in former days, they used to let wild beasts loose
against the Christian martyrs in their amphitheatres;[20] and another of
their favourite pastimes was to set men who were called gladiators (that
is, _swordsmen_) to fight and kill each other in those same places. The
love of these shows of gladiators was so strong in the people of Rome,
that Constantine had not ventured to do away with them there, although
he would not allow any such things in the new Christian capital which he
built. And the custom of setting men to slaughter one another for the
amusement of the lookers-on had lasted at Rome down to the time of
Honorius.
[20] Page 9.
Telemachus, then, who was an eastern monk, was greatly shocked that
Christians should take pleasure in these savage sports; and when he
heard of the great games which were preparing, he resolved to bear his
witness against them. For this purpose, therefore, he went all the way
to Rome, and got into the amphitheatre, close to the _arena_ (as the
place where the gladiators fought was called); and when the fight had
begun, he leaped over the barrier which separated him from the arena,
rushed in between the gladiators, and tried to part them. The people who
crowded the vast building grew furious at being baulked of their
amusement; they shouted out with rage, and threw stones, or whatever
else they could lay their hands on, at Telemachus, so that he was soon
pelted to death. But when they saw him lying dead, their anger suddenly
cooled, and they were struck with horror at the crime of which they had
been guilty, although they had never thought of the wickedness of
feasting their eyes on the bloodshed of gladiators. The emperor said
that the death of Telemachus was really a martyrdom, and proposed to do
away with the shows of gladiators; and the people, who were now filled
with sorrow and shame, agreed to give up their cruel diversions. So the
life of the brave monk was not thrown away, since it was the means of
saving the lives of many, and of preserving multitudes from the sin of
sacrificing their fellow-men for their sport.
CHAPTER XX.
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
A.D. 347-407.
PART I.
At this time lived St. John Chrysostom, whose name is known to us all
from the prayer in our service which is called "A Prayer of St.
Chrysostom."
He was born at Antioch about the year 347. While he was still a little
child, he lost his father; but his mother, Anthusa, who was left a widow
at the age of twenty, remained unmarried, and devoted herself to the
training of her son. During his early years, she brought him up with
religious care, and he was afterwards sent to finish his education
under a famous heathen philosopher. I have already had occasion to tell
you that Christian youths, while in the schools of such teachers, ran a
great risk of being turned from the Gospel, and that many of them fell
away;[21] but John was preserved from the danger by daily studying the
Scriptures, and thus his faith was kept fresh and warm. The philosopher
had such a high notion of his talents, that he long after spoke of John
as the best of all the pupils he had ever had, and said that he would
have been the worthiest to succeed him as a teacher, "if the Christians
had not stolen him."
[21] Page 67.
When he left this master, John studied law; but, after trying it for a
time, he found that there were things about the business of an Antioch
lawyer which went against his conscience; so he resolved to give up the
law, and to become a monk. But his mother thought that he might lead a
really Christian life without rushing away into the wilderness and
leaving his natural duties behind him. She took him by the hand, led him
into her chamber, and made him sit down beside her on the bed. Then she
burst into tears: she reminded him of all the kindness which she had
shown him, and of the cares and troubles which she had borne for his
sake. She told him that it had been her chief comfort to look on his
face, which put her in mind of the husband whom she had lost. "Make me
not once more a widow," she said: "wait only for my death, which may,
perhaps, not be far off. When you have laid me in the grave, then you
may go where you will--even beyond the sea, if such be your wish, but so
long as I live, bear to stay with me, and do not offend God by
afflicting your mother." The young man yielded to these entreaties, and
remained in his mother's house, although he gave up all worldly
business, and lived after the strict manner of the monks. But when the
good Anthusa was dead, he withdrew to the mountains, near Antioch, in
which a great number of monks dwelt. There he spent four years in a
monastery, and two as a hermit in a cave. But at last his hard life made
him very weak and ill, so that he was obliged to return to Antioch; and
soon after this he was ordained to be one of the clergy, and was
appointed chief preacher of the city (A.D. 386).
Of all the great men of the ancient Church, John was the most famous for
eloquence; and from this it was that he got the name of _Chrysostom_,
which means _golden-mouthed_. His sermons (of which hundreds still
remain) were not mere displays of fine words, but were always meant to
instruct and to improve those who heard them. And, while he was chief
preacher at Antioch, he had a very remarkable opportunity of using his
gifts of speech. An outbreak had taken place in the city, on account of
a new tax which Theodosius, who was then emperor, had laid on the people
(A.D. 387). The statues of the emperor and of his family, which stood in
public places, were thrown down, and were dragged about the streets with
all sorts of mockery and insult. But the riot was easily put down, and
then the inhabitants began to be in great anxiety and terror as to the
punishment which Theodosius might inflict on them. For although the
frightful massacre of Thessalonica[22] had not at that time taken place,
they knew that the emperor was not to be trifled with, and that his fits
of anger were terrible. They expected that they might be given up to
slaughter, and their city to destruction. For a time, few of them
ventured out of their houses; and those few slunk along the streets as
if they were afraid of being seized. Many were imprisoned, and were
cruelly tortured or put to death; others ran away, leaving all that they
had behind them; and the public amusements, of which the people of
Antioch were excessively fond, were, for a time, quite given up.
[22] Page 75.
The bishop, Flavian, who was a very aged man, in bad health and infirm,
left the bedside of his sister (who was supposed to be dying) to set out
for Constantinople and implore the emperor's mercy. And while he was
absent Chrysostom took the lead among the clergy. He preached every day
in a solemn and awakening tone; he tried to turn the terrors of the
people to their lasting good, by directing their thoughts to the great
judgment, in which all men must hereafter appear, and urging them,
whatever their present fate might be, to strive after peace with God,
and a share in his mercy, through Christ, in that awful day. The effect
of this preaching was wonderful;--day after day, vast crowds flocked to
listen to it, forgetting every thing else: even many heathens were among
them.
The news of the disturbances at Antioch had reached Constantinople long
before Flavian; and the bishop, as he was on his way, met two
commissioners, who had been sent by the emperor to declare his sentence
to the people. The buildings of the city were to be spared; but it was
to lose its rank among the cities of the empire. The baths, which in
those countries were reckoned almost as a necessary of life, were to be
shut up, and all public amusements were to be at an end. The officers,
after reaching Antioch, and publishing this sentence, set about
inquiring who had taken a part in the tumult. Judgment was to be
executed without mercy on all whose guilt could be proved; and the
anxiety of the people became extreme. A number of monks and hermits came
down from the mountains, and busied themselves in trying to comfort
those who were in distress. One of these monks, Macedonius, a man of
rough and simple appearance, but of great note for holiness, met the
emperor's commissioners as they were riding through the market-place;
whereupon he laid hold of one of them by the cloak, and desired them
both to dismount. At first they were angry; but, on being told who he
was, they alighted and fell on their knees before him; for, in those
days, monks famous for their holiness were looked on much as if they had
been prophets. And Macedonius spoke to them in the tone of a
prophet:--"Go," he said, "say to the emperor, You are a man; your
subjects too are men, made in the image of God. You are enraged on
account of images of brass; but a living and reasonable image is of far
higher worth than these. Destroy the brazen images, and it is easy to
make others; but you cannot restore a single hair of the heads of the
men whom you have put to death." The commissioners were much struck with
the way in which Macedonius uttered this, although they did not
understand what he said (as he spoke in the Syrian language); and when
his words were explained to them in Greek, they agreed that one of them
should go to the emperor, to tell him how things were at Antioch, and to
beg for further instructions.
In the mean time, Bishop Flavian had made his way to the emperor's
presence. Theodosius received him with kindness, and spoke calmly of the
favour which he had always shown to Antioch, and of the base return
which the citizens had made for it. The bishop wept bitterly when he
heard this. He owned that his flock had deserved the worst of
punishments; but, he said, no punishment could be so severe as
undeserved mercy. He told the emperor that, instead of the statues which
had been thrown down, he had now the opportunity of setting up far
better monuments in the hearts of his people, by showing them
forgiveness. He urged the duty of forgiveness in all the ways that he
could think of; he drew a moving picture of the misery of the
inhabitants of Antioch, which he could not bear to see again; and he
declared that, unless he gained the favour which he had come to beg for,
he would never return to his city.
Theodosius was moved almost to tears by the old man's words. "What
wonder is it," he said, "if I, who am but a man, should pardon my
fellow-men, when the Maker of the world has come on earth, and has
submitted to death, for the forgiveness of mankind?" and he pressed
Flavian to return to Antioch with all speed, for the comfort of his
people. The bishop, on reaching home, found that his sister, whom he had
not hoped to see any more in this world, was recovered; and we may well
imagine that his flock were full of gratitude to him for what he had
done. But he refused all thanks or credit on account of the success of
his mission. "It was not my doing," he said: "it was God who softened
the emperor's heart."
PART II.
When Chrysostom had been chief preacher of Antioch about twelve years,
the bishopric of Constantinople fell vacant (A.D. 397); and there was so
much strife for it, that at length the people, as the only way of
settling the matter quietly, begged the emperor Arcadius to name a
bishop for them. Now it happened that the emperor's favourite
counsellor, Eutropius, had been at Antioch a short time before, and had
been very much struck with Chrysostom's preaching; so he advised the
emperor to choose him. Chrysostom was appointed accordingly; and, as he
was so much beloved by the people of Antioch that they might perhaps
have made a disturbance rather than part with him, he was decoyed
outside the city, and was then secretly sent off to Constantinople.
Eutropius was so worthless a man that we can hardly suppose him to have
acted from quite pure motives in this affair. Perhaps he wished to get
credit with the people for making so good a choice. Perhaps, too, he may
have hoped that he might be able to do as he liked with a bishop of his
own choosing. But if he thought so, he was much disappointed; for
Chrysostom behaved as a faithful and true pastor, without any fear of
man.
The new bishop's preaching was as much admired at Constantinople as it
had been at Antioch, and he soon gained great influence among his flock.
And besides attending diligently to his work at home, he set on foot
missions to some heathen nations, and also to the Goths, who, as we have
seen,[23] were Arians. But besides the Goths at a distance, there were
then a great number of the same people at Constantinople; for the Greeks
and Romans of those days were so much fallen away from the bravery of
their forefathers, that the emperors were obliged to hire Gothic
soldiers to defend their dominions. Chrysostom, therefore, took great
pains to bring over these Goths at Constantinople to the Church. He
ordained clergy of their own nation for them, and set apart a church for
them. And he often went himself to this church, and preached to them in
Greek, while an interpreter repeated his words to them in their own
language.
[23] Page 93.
But unhappily he soon made enemies at Constantinople. For he found the
church there in a very bad state, and, in trying to set things right, he
gave offence to many people of various kinds; and, although he was
indeed an excellent man, perhaps he did not always act with such wisdom
and such calmness of temper as might have been wished. The last bishop,
Nectarius, was a man of high rank, who had never dreamt of being a
bishop or any such thing, until at the council of Constantinople he was
suddenly chosen instead of the good Gregory.[24] At that time Nectarius
was not even baptized; so that he had first to receive baptism, and then
within a week he was consecrated as bishop of the second church in the
whole Christian world. And it proved that he was too old to change his
ways very much. He continued to live in a costly style, as he had done
all his life before; and he let the clergy go on much as they pleased,
so that they generally fell into easy and luxurious habits, and some of
them were even quite scandalous in their conduct. Now Chrysostom's ways
and notions were quite opposite to all this. He sold the rich carpets
and other valuable furniture which he found in the bishop's palace; nay,
he even sold some of the church ornaments, that he might get money for
building hospitals and for other charitable purposes. He did not care
for company, and his health was delicate; and for these reasons he
always took his meals by himself, and did not ask bishops who came to
Constantinople to lodge in his palace or to dine with him, as Nectarius
had done. This does not seem to be quite according to St. Paul's saying,
that a bishop should be "given to hospitality" (1 _Tim._ iii. 2); but
Chrysostom thought that among the Christians of a great city like
Constantinople the strange bishops could be at no loss for
entertainment, and that his own time and money might be better spent
than in entertaining them. But many of them were very much offended, and
it is said that one, Acacius, of Berrhoea, in Syria, declared in
anger, "I will cook his pot for him!"
[24] See page 71.
Chrysostom's reforms also interfered much with the habits of his clergy.
He made them perform service at night in their churches for people who
were too busy to attend during the day; and many of them were very
unwilling to leave their homes at late hours and to do additional work.
Some of them, too, were envious of him because he was so famous as a
preacher, and they looked eagerly to find something in his sermons which
might be turned against him. And besides all these enemies among the
clergy, he provoked many among the courtiers and the rich people of
Constantinople, by plainly attacking their vices.
Although Chrysostom had chiefly owed his bishopric to Eutropius, he was
afterwards drawn into many disputes with him. For in that age and in
that country things were very different from what they happily are among
ourselves, and a person in power like Eutropius might commit great acts
of tyranny and oppression, while the poor people who suffered had no
means of redress. But many of those whom Eutropius meant to plunder or
to imprison took refuge in churches, where debtors and others were then
considered to be safe, as it was not lawful to seize them in the holy
buildings. Eutropius persuaded the emperor to make a law by which this
right of shelter (or _asylum_, as it was called) was taken away from
churches. But soon after he himself fell into disgrace, and in his
terror he rushed to the cathedral, and laid hold of the altar for
protection. Some soldiers were sent to seize him; but Chrysostom would
not let them enter; and next day, when the church was crowded by a
multitude of people who had flocked to see what would become of
Eutropius, the bishop preached on the uncertainty of all earthly
greatness. While Eutropius lay crouching under the holy table,
Chrysostom turned to him and reminded him how he had tried to take away
that very privilege of churches from which he was now seeking
protection; and he desired the people to beg both God and the emperor to
pardon the fallen favourite. By all this he did not mean to insult the
wretched Eutropius, but to turn the rage of the multitude into pity. It
was said, however, by some that he had triumphed over his enemy's
misfortunes; and he also got into trouble for giving Eutropius shelter,
and was carried before the emperor to answer for doing so. But the
bishop boldly upheld the right of the Church to protect the defenceless,
and Eutropius was, for the time, allowed to go free.
PART III.
Thus there were many at Constantinople who were ready to take part
against Chrysostom, if an opportunity should offer; and it was not long
before they found one.
The bishop of Alexandria at this time was a bold and bad man, named
Theophilus. He was jealous of the see of Constantinople, because the
second general council had lately placed it above his own;[25] he
disliked the bishop because he had hoped to put one of his own clergy
into the place, and had seen enough of Chrysostom at his first meeting
to know that he could not make a tool of him; and although he had been
obliged by the emperor and Eutropius to consecrate Chrysostom as bishop,
it was with a very bad grace that he did so.
[25] See page 84.
There were then great quarrels as to the opinions of the famous Origen,
who had lived two hundred years before.[26] Some of his opinions were
really wrong, and others were very strange, if they were not wrong too.
But besides these, a number of things had been laid to his charge of
which he seems to have been quite innocent. If Theophilus really cared
at all about the matter, he was in his heart favourable to Origen. But
he found it convenient to take the opposite side; and he cruelly
persecuted such of the Egyptian monks as were said to be touched with
Origen's errors. The chief of these monks were four brothers, called the
_long_ or _tall brothers_: one of them was that same Ammonius who cut
off his ear, and was ready to cut out his tongue, rather than be a
bishop.[27] Theophilus had made much of these brothers, and had employed
two of them in managing his accounts. But these two found out such
practices of his in money matters as quite shocked them, and as, after
this, they refused to stay with the bishop any longer, he charged them
and their brothers with Origenism (as the following of Origen's opinions
was called). They denied that they held any of the errors which
Theophilus laid to their charge; but he went with soldiers into the
desert, hunted out the brothers, destroyed their cells, burnt a number
of books, and even killed some persons. The tall brothers and some of
their friends fled into the Holy Land, but their enemy had power enough
to prevent their remaining there, and they then sought a refuge at
Constantinople.
[26] See Chapter VII.
[27] See page 65.
On hearing of their arrival in his city, Chrysostom inquired about them,
and, finding that they bore a good character, he treated them kindly;
but he would not admit them to communion until he knew what Theophilus
had to say against them. Theophilus, however, was told that Chrysostom
_had_ admitted them, and he wrote a furious letter to him about it. The
brothers were very much alarmed lest they should be turned away at
Constantinople, as they had been in the Holy Land; and one day when the
empress Eudoxia was in a church, they went to her and entreated her to
get the emperor's leave that a council might be held to examine their
case.
Theophilus was summoned to appear before this council, and give an
account of his behaviour to the brothers; but when he got to
Constantinople, he acted as if, instead of being under a charge of
misbehaviour himself, he had been called to judge the bishop of the
capital. He would have nothing to do with Chrysostom. He spent large
sums of money in bribing courtiers and others to favour his own side;
and, when he thought he had made all sure, he held a meeting of six and
thirty bishops, at a place called the Oak, which lay on the Asiatic
shore, opposite to Constantinople (A.D. 403). A number of trumpery
charges were brought against Chrysostom, and, as he refused to appear
before such a meeting, which was almost entirely made up of Egyptian
bishops, and had no right whatever to try him, they found him guilty of
various offences, and, among the rest, of high treason! The emperor and
empress had been drawn into taking part against him, and he was
condemned to banishment. But on the night after he had been sent across
the Bosphorus (the strait which divides Constantinople from the Asiatic
shore), the city was shaken by an earthquake. The empress in her terror
supposed this to be a judgment against the injustice which had been
committed, and hastily sent off a messenger to beg that the bishop would
return. And when it was known next day that he was on his way back, so
great was the joy of his flock that the Bosphorus was covered with
vessels, carrying vast multitudes of people, who eagerly crowded to
welcome him.
PART IV.
Within a few months after his return, Chrysostom again got into trouble
for finding fault with some disorderly and almost heathenish rejoicings
which were held around a new statue of the empress, close to the door of
his cathedral. Theophilus had returned to Egypt, and did not again
appear at Constantinople, but directed the proceedings of Chrysostom's
other enemies who were on the spot. Another council was held, and, of
course, found the bishop guilty of whatever was laid to his charge. He
did not mean to desert his flock, unless he were forced to do so; he,
therefore, kept possession of the cathedral and of the episcopal house
for some months. During this time he was often disturbed by his enemies;
nay, more than once, attempts were even made to murder him. At last, on
receiving an order from the emperor to leave his house, he saw that the
time was come when he must yield to force. His flock guarded the
cathedral day and night, and would have resisted any attempt to seize
him; but he did not think it right to risk disorder and bloodshed. He,
therefore, took a solemn leave of his chief friends, giving good advice
and speaking words of comfort to each. He begged them not to despair for
the loss of him, but to submit to any bishop who should be chosen by
general consent to succeed him. And then, while, in order to take off
the people's attention, his mule was held at one door of the church, as
if he might be expected to come out there, he quietly left the building
by another door, and gave himself up as a prisoner, declaring that he
wished his case to be fairly tried by a council (A.D. 404).
He was first carried to Nicaea, where he remained nearly a month. During
this time he pressed for a fresh inquiry into his conduct, but in vain;
and neither he nor his friends could obtain leave for him to retire to
some place where he might live with comfort. He was sentenced to be
carried to Cucusus, among the mountains of Taurus--a name which seemed
to bode him no good, as an earlier bishop of Constantinople, Paul, had
been starved and afterwards strangled there, in the time of the Arian
troubles (A.D. 351).
On his way to Cucusus, he was often in danger from robbers who infested
the road, and still more from monks of the opposite party, who were
furious against him. When he arrived at the place, he found it a
wretched little town, where he was frozen by cold in winter, and parched
by excessive heat in summer. Sometimes he could hardly get provisions;
and when he was ill (as often happened), he could not get proper
medicines. Sometimes, too, the robbers, from the neighbouring country of
Isauria, made plundering attacks, so that Chrysostom was obliged to
leave Cucusus in haste, and to take refuge in a castle called
Arabissus.
But, although there was much to distress him in his banishment, there
was also much to comfort him. His great name, his sufferings, and his
innocence were known throughout all Christian churches. Letters of
consolation and sympathy poured in on him from all quarters. The bishop
of Rome himself wrote to him as to an equal, and even the emperor of the
west, Honorius, interceded for him, although without success. The bishop
of Cucusus, and his other neighbours, treated him with all respect and
kindness, and many pilgrims made their way over the rough mountain roads
to see him, and to express their reverence for him. His friends at a
distance sent him such large sums of money that he was able to redeem
captives and to support missions to the Goths and to the Persians, and,
after all, had to desire that they would not send him so much, as their
gifts were more than he could use. In truth, no part of his life was so
full of honour and of influence as the three years which he spent in
exile.
At length the court became jealous of the interest which was so
generally felt in Chrysostom, and he was suddenly hurried off from
Cucusus, with the intention of removing him to a still wilder and more
desolate place at the farthest border of the empire. He had to travel
rapidly in the height of summer, and the great heat renewed the ailments
from which he had often suffered. At length he became so ill that he
felt his end to be near, and desired the soldiers who had the charge of
him to stop at a town called Comana. There he exchanged his mean
travelling dress for the best which he possessed; he once more received
the sacrament of his Saviour's body and blood; and, after uttering the
words "Glory be to God for all things," with his last breath he added
"Amen!" (September 14th, 407).
Thirty years after this, Chrysostom's body was removed to
Constantinople. When the vessel which conveyed it was seen leaving the
Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, a multitude, far greater than that
which had hailed his first return from banishment, poured forth from
Constantinople, in shipping and boats of all kinds, which covered the
narrow strait. And the emperor, Theodosius II., son of Arcadius and
Eudoxia, bent humbly over the coffin, and lamented with tears the guilt
of his parents in the persecution of the great and holy bishop.
CHAPTER XXI.
ST. AUGUSTINE.
A.D. 354-430.
PART I.
The church in the north of Africa has hardly been mentioned since the
time of St. Cyprian.[28] But we must now look towards it again, since in
the days of St. Chrysostom it produced a man who was perhaps the
greatest of all the old Christian fathers--St. Augustine.
[28] Chapter VIII.
Augustine was born at Thagaste, a city of Numidia, in the year 354. His
mother, Monica, was a pious Christian, but his father, Patricius, was a
heathen, and a man of no very good character. Monica was resolved to
bring up her son in the true faith: she entered him as a catechumen of
the Church when a little child, and carefully taught him as much of
religious things as a child could learn. But he was not then baptized,
because (as has been mentioned already)[29] people were accustomed in
those days to put off baptism, out of fear lest they should afterwards
fall into sin, and so should lose the blessing of the sacrament. This,
as we know, was a mistake, but it was a very common practice
nevertheless.
[29] Page 39.
When Augustine was a boy, he was one day suddenly taken ill, so that he
seemed likely to die. Remembering what his mother had taught him, he
begged that he might be baptized, and preparations were made for the
purpose; but all at once he began to grow better, and the baptism was
put off for the same reason as before.
As he grew up, he gave but little promise of what he was afterwards to
become. Much of his time was spent in idleness; and through idleness he
fell into bad company, and was drawn into sins of many kinds. When he
was about seventeen, his father died. The good Monica had been much
troubled by her husband's heathenism and misconduct, and had earnestly
tried to convert him from his errors. She went about this wisely, not
lecturing him or arguing with him in a way that might have set him more
against the Gospel, but trying rather to show him the beauty of
Christian faith by her own loving, gentle, and dutiful behaviour. And at
length her pains were rewarded by seeing him before his death profess
himself a believer, and receive Christian baptism.
Monica was left rather badly off at her husband's death. But a rich
neighbour was kind enough to help her in the expense of finishing her
son's education, and the young man himself now began to show something
of the great talents which God had been pleased to bestow on him.
Unhappily, however, he sank deeper and deeper in vice, and poor Monica
was bitterly grieved by his ways. A book which he happened to read led
him to feel something of the shamefulness and wretchedness of his
courses; but, as it was a heathen book (although written by one of the
wisest of the heathens, Cicero), it could not show him by what means he
might be able to reach to a higher life. He looked into Scripture, in
the hope of finding instruction there; but he was now in that state of
mind to which, as St. Paul says (1 _Cor._ i. 23), the preaching of
Christ sounds like "foolishness;" so that he fancied himself to be above
learning anything from a book so plain and homely as the Bible then
seemed to him, and he set out in search of some other teaching. And a
very strange sort of teaching he met with.
About a hundred years before this time, a man named Manes appeared in
Persia (A.D. 270), and preached a religion which he pretended to have
received from Heaven, but which was really made up by himself, from a
mixture of Christian and heathen notions. It was something like the
doctrines which had been before taught by the Gnostics,[30] and was as
wild nonsense as can well be imagined. He taught that there were two
gods--a good god of light, and a bad god of darkness. And he divided his
followers into two classes, the lower of which were called _hearers_,
while the higher were called _elect_. These _elect_ were supposed to be
very strict in their lives. They were not to eat flesh at all;--they
might not even gather the fruits of the earth, or pluck a herb with
their own hands. They were supported and were served by the hearers; and
they took a very odd way of showing their gratitude to these; for it is
said that when one of the elect ate a piece of bread, he made this
speech to it:--"It was not I who reaped or ground or baked thee; may
they who did so be reaped and ground and baked in their turn!" And it
was believed that the poor "hearers" would after death become corn, and
have to go through the mill and the oven, until they should have
suffered enough to clear away their offences and make them fit for the
blessedness of the elect.
[30] Page 5.
The Manichaeans (as the followers of Manes were called) soon found their
way into Africa, where they gained many converts; and, although laws
were often made against their heresy by the emperors, it continued to
spread secretly; for they used to hide their opinions, when there was
any danger, so that persons who were really Manichaeans pretended to be
Catholic Christians, and there was some of them even among the monks and
clergy of the Church.
In the humour in which Augustine now was, this strange sect took his
fancy; for the Manichaeans pretended to be wiser than any one else, and
laughed at all submission to doctrines which had been settled by the
Church. So Augustine at twenty became a Manichaean, and for nine years
was one of the hearers,--for he never got to be one of the elect, or to
know much about their secrets. But before he had been very long in the
sect, he began to notice some things which shocked him in the behaviour
of the elect, who professed the greatest strictness. In short, he could
not but see that their strictness was all a pretence, and that they were
really a very worthless set of men. And he found out, too, that, besides
bad conduct, there was a great deal very bad and disgusting in the
opinions of the Manichaeans, which he had not known of at first. After
learning all this, he did not know what to turn to, and he seems for a
time to have believed nothing at all,--which is a wretched state of mind
indeed, and so he found it.