CHAPTER II.

THE REIGNS OF TRAJAN AND HADRIAN,

A.D. 98-138

Christianity was no longer to be confounded with Judaism. The great majority of the converts were of Gentile race; and the difference of manners and observances between the followers of the two religions was such as could not be overlooked when exhibited in large bodies of persons. But still the newer system was regarded as an offshoot of the older; its adherents were exposed to all the odium of a Jewish sect. Indeed, the Christian religion must have appeared the more objectionable of the two, since it not only was exclusive, but instead of being merely or chiefly national, it claimed the allegiance of all mankind.

Strange and horrible charges began to be current against the Christians. The secrecy of their meetings for worship was ascribed, not to its true cause, the fear of persecution, but to a consciousness of abominations which could not bear the light. “Thyestean banquets”, promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, and magical rites were popularly imputed to them. The Jews were especially industrious in inventing and propagating such stories, while some of the heretical parties, which now began to vex the church, both brought discredit on the Christian name by their own practices, and were forward to join in the work of slander and persecution against the faithful. And, no doubt, among the orthodox themselves there must have been some by whom the Gospel had been so misconceived that their behaviour towards those without the church was repulsive and irritating, so as to give countenance to the prejudices which regarded the faith of Christ as a gloomy and unsocial superstition.

It is a question whether at this time there were any laws of the Roman empire against Christianity. On the one hand, it has been maintained that those of Nero and Domitian had been repealed; on the other hand, Tertullian states that, although all the other acts of Nero were abrogated, those against the Christians still remained; and the records of the period convey the idea that the profession of the Gospel was legally punishable. Even if it was no longer condemned by any special statute, it fell under the general law which prohibited all such religions as had not been formally sanctioned by the state. And this law, although it might usually be allowed to slumber, could at any time have been enforced; not to speak of the constant danger from popular tumults, often incited by persons who felt that their calling was at stake—priests, soothsayers, statuaries, players, gladiators, and others who depended for a livelihood on the worship of the heathen gods, or on spectacles which the Christians abhorred.

Trajan, the successor of Nerva, although not free from serious personal vices, was long regarded by the Romans as the ideal of an excellent prince; centuries after his death, the highest wish that could be framed for the salutation of a new emperor was a prayer that he might be “more fortunate than Augustus, and better than Trajan”. In the history of the church, however, Trajan appears to less advantage. Early in his reign he issued an edict against guilds or clubs, apprehending that they might become dangerous to the state; and it is easy to imagine how this edict might be turned against the Christians—a vast brotherhood, extending through all known countries both within and beyond the empire, bound together by intimate ties, maintaining a lively intercourse and communication with each other, and having much that seemed to be mysterious both in their opinions and in their practice.

In this reign falls the martyrdom of the venerable Simeon, the kinsman of our Lord, brother (or perhaps cousin) of James the Just, and his successor in the see of Jerusalem. It is said that some heretics denounced him to the proconsul Atticus as a Christian and a descendant of David. During several days the aged bishop endured a variety of tortures with a constancy which astonished the beholders; and at last he was crucified at the age of a hundred and twenty.

A curious and interesting contribution to the church-history of the time is furnished by the correspondence of the younger Pliny. Pliny had been sent as proconsul into Pontus and Bithynia, a region of mixed population, partly Asiatic and partly Greek, with a considerable infusion of Jews. That the Gospel had early found an entrance into those countries appears from the address of St. Peter’s First Epistle; and its prevalence there in the second century is confirmed by the testimony of the heathen Lucian. The circumstances of Pliny’s government forced on him the consideration of a subject which had not before engaged his attention. Perhaps, as has been conjectured, the first occasion which brought the new religion under his notice may have been the celebration of Trajan’s Quindecennalia—the fifteenth anniversary of his adoption as the heir of the empire; for solemnities of this kind were accompanied by pagan rites, in which it was unlawful for Christians to share.

The proconsul was perplexed by the novelty of the circumstances with which he had to deal. He found that the temples of the national religion were almost deserted:  that the persons accused of Christianity were very numerous; that they were of every age, of both sexes, of all ranks, and were found not only in the towns, but in villages and country places. Pliny was uncertain as to the state of the laws, and in his difficulty he applied to the emperor for instructions. He states the course which he had pursued: he had questioned the accused repeatedly; of those who persisted in avowing themselves Christians, he had ordered some to be put to death, and had reserved others, who were entitled to the privileges of Roman citizens, with the intention of sending them to the capital. “I had no doubt”, he says, “that, whatever they might confess, wilfulness and inflexible obstinacy ought to be punished”. Many who were anonymously accused had cleared themselves by invoking the gods, by offering incense to the statues of these and of the emperor, and by cursing the name of Christ. Some, who had at first admitted the charge, afterwards declared that they had abandoned Christianity three, or even twenty, years before; yet the governor was unable to extract from these anything to the discredit of the faith which they professed to have forsaken. They stated that they had been in the habit of meeting before dawn on certain days; that they sang alternately a hymn to Christ as God. Instead of the expected disclosures as to seditious engagements, licentious orgies, and unnatural feasts, Pliny could only find that they bound themselves by an oath to abstain from theft, adultery, and breach of promise or trust; and that at a second meeting, later in the day, they partook in common of a simple and innocent meal (the agape or love-feast, which was connected with the Eucharist). He put two deaconesses to the torture; but even this cruelty failed to draw forth evidence of anything more criminal than a “perverse and immoderate superstition”. In these circumstances Pliny asks the emperor with what penalties Christianity shall be visited; whether it shall be punished as in itself a crime, or only when found in combination with other offences; whether any difference shall be made between the treatment of the young and tender, and that of the more robust culprits; and whether a recantation shall be admitted as a title to pardon. He concludes by stating that the measures already taken had recovered many worshippers for the lately deserted temples, and by expressing the belief that a wise and moderate policy would produce far more numerous reconversions.

Trajan, in his answer, approves of the measures which Pliny had reported to him. He prefers entrusting the governor with a large discretionary power to laying down a rigid and uniform rule for all cases. The Christians, he says, are not to be sought out; if detected and convicted, they are to be punished; but a denial of Christ is to be admitted as clearing the accused, and no anonymous information are to be received against them.

The policy indicated in these letters has been assailed by the sarcasm of Tertullian, and his words have often been echoed and quoted with approbation by later writers—forgetful that the conduct of Trajan and his minister ought to be estimated, not by the standard either of true religion or of strict and consistent reasoning, but as that of heathen statesmen. We may deplore the insensibility which led these eminent men to set down our faith as a wretched fanaticism, instead of being drawn by the moral beauty of the little which they were able to ascertain into a deeper inquiry, which might have ended in their own conversion. We may dislike the merely political view which, without taking any cognizance of religious truth, regarded religion only as an affair of state, and punished dissent from the legal system as a crime against the civil authority. We may pity the blindness which was unable to discern the inward and spiritual strength of Christianity, and supposed that a judicious mixture of indulgence and severity would in no long time extinguish it. But if we fairly consider the position from which Trajan and Pliny were obliged to regard the question, instead of joining in the apologist's complaints against the logical inconsistency of their measures, we shall be unable to refuse the praise of wise liberality to the system of conniving at the existence of the new religion, unless when it should be so forced on the notice of the government as to compel the execution of the laws.

Under Trajan took place the martyrdom of Ignatius—one of the most celebrated facts in early church-history, not only on its own account, but because of the interest attached to the epistles which bear the name of the venerable bishop. The birthplace of Ignatius is matter of conjecture, and his early history is unknown. He is described as a hearer of St. John; and he was raised to the bishopric of Antioch, as the successor of Enodius, about the year 70. For nearly half a century he had governed that church, seated in the capital of Syria, a city which numbered 200,000 inhabitants; and to the authority of his position was added that of a wise and saintly character.

It is uncertain to which of the visits which Trajan paid to Antioch the fate of Ignatius ought to be referred. The Acts of his martyrdom relate that he “was voluntarily led” before the emperor—an expression which may mean either that he was led as a criminal, without attempting resistance or escape; or that he himself desired to be conducted into Trajan’s presence, with a view of setting forth the case of the Christians, and with the resolution, if his words should fail of success, to sacrifice himself for his faith and for his people. The details of the scene with the emperor are suspicious, as the speeches attributed to Trajan appear to be too much in the vein of a theatrical tyrant; his sentence was, that Ignatius should be carried to Rome, and there exposed to wild beasts. Perhaps the emperor may have hoped to overcome the constancy of the aged bishop by the fatigues of the long journey, and by the terrors of the death which awaited him. At least we may suppose him to have reckoned on striking fear into other Christians, by the spectacle of a man so venerable in character and so eminent in place hurried over sea and land to a dreadful and degrading death—the punishment of the lowest criminals, and especially of persons convicted of those magical practices which were commonly imputed to the Christians. Perhaps he may even have thought that the exemplary punishment of one conspicuous leader would operate as a mercy to the multitude, by deterring them from the forbidden religion; and we find in fact that, while the victim was on his way to Rome, his church, which he had left to the charge of God as its Pastor, was allowed to remain in peace.

Ignatius, who had welcomed his condemnation, and had willingly submitted to be bound, was committed to the charge of ten soldiers, who treated him with great harshness. They conducted him to Seleucia, and thence by sea to Smyrna, where he was received by the bishop, Polycarp—like himself a disciple of St. John, and destined to be a martyr for the Gospel. The report of his sentence and of his intended route had reached the churches of Asia; and from several of these deputations of bishops and clergy had been sent to Smyrna, with the hope of mingling with him in Christian consolation, and perhaps of receiving some spiritual gift from him. He charged the bishops of Ephesus, Magnesia, and Tralles, with letters addressed to their respective churches; and, as some members of the Ephesian church were proceeding to Rome by a more direct way than that which he was himself about to take, he seized the opportunity of writing by them to his brethren in the capital. At Troas he was met by the bishop of Philadelphia; and thence he wrote to that church, as also to the Smyrnaeans, and to their bishop, Polycarp.

The epistles to the churches are in general full of solemn and affectionate exhortation. The venerable writer recalls to the minds of his readers the great truths of the Gospel—dwelling with especial force on the reality of our Lord’s manhood, and of the circumstances of His history, by way of warning against the docetic errors which had begun to infest the Asiatic churches even during the lifetime of St. John. A tendency to Judaism (or rather to heresies of a judaizing character) is also repeatedly denounced. Submission to the episcopal authority is strongly inculcated throughout. Ignatius charges the churches to do nothing without their bishops; he compares the relation of presbyters to bishops with that of the strings to the harp; he exhorts that obedience given to the bishops as to Christ himself and to the Almighty Father. The frequent occurrence of such exhortations, and the terms in which the episcopal office is extolled, have been, in later times, the chief inducements to question the genuineness of the epistles altogether, or to suppose that they have been largely interpolated with the view of serving a hierarchical interests. It must, however, be remembered that the question is not whether a ministry of three orders was by this time organized, but merely whether Ignatius’ estimation of the episcopal dignity were somewhat higher or lower; and it has been truly remarked that the intention of the passages in question is not to exalt the hierarchy, but to persuade to Christian unity, of which the episcopate was the visible keystone.

The Epistle to the Romans is written in a more ardent strain than the others. In it Ignatius bears witness to the faith and the good deeds of the Church of Rome. He expresses an eager desire for the crown of martyrdom, and entreats that the Romans will not, through mistaken kindness, attempt to prevent his fate. “I am”, he says, “the wheat of God; let me be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ. Rather do you 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 declares that he wishes the lions to exercise all their fierceness on him; that if, as in some other cases, they should show any unwillingness, he will himself provoke them to attack him.

It has been asked whether these expressions were agreeable to the spirit of the Gospel. Surely we need not hesitate to answer. The aspirations of a tried and matured saint are not to be classed with that headstrong spirit which at a later time led some persons to provoke persecution and death, so that the church saw fit to restrain it by refusing the honours of martyrdom to those who should suffer in consequence of their own violence. Rather they are to be regarded as a repetition of St. Paul’s “readiness to be offered up”; of his desire “to depart and to be with Christ”. To a man like Ignatius, such a death might reasonably seem as a token of the acceptance of his labours; while it afforded him an opportunity of signally witnessing to the Gospel, and of becoming an offering for his flock.

From Troas he took ship for Neapolis in Macedonia; thence he crossed the continent to Epidamnus, where he again embarked; and, after sailing round the south of Italy, he landed at Portus (Porto), near Ostia. His keepers hurried him towards Rome—fearing lest they should not arrive in time for the games at which it was intended to expose him. On the way he was met by some brethren from the city, whom he entreated, even more earnestly than in his letter, that they would do nothing to avert his death and, after having prayed in concert with them for the peace of the church, and for the continuance of love among the faithful, he was carried to the amphitheatre, where he suffered in the sight of the crowds assembled on the last day of the Sigillaria—a festival annexed to the Saturnalia. It is related that, agreeably to the wish which he had expressed, no part of his body was left, except a few of the larger and harder bones; and that these were collected by his brethren, and reverently conveyed to Antioch, being received with honour by the churches on the way.

Within a few months after the martyrdom of Ignatius (if the late date of it be correct), Trajan was succeeded by Hadrian. The new emperor—able, energetic, inquisitive and versatile, but capricious, paradoxical, and a slave to a restless vanity—was not likely to appreciate Christianity rightly. It is, however, altogether unjust to class him (as was once usual) among the persecutors of the church; for there is no ground for supposing him to have been personally concerned in the persecutions which took place during the earlier years of his reign, and under him the condition of the Christians was greatly improved.

The rescript of Trajan to Pliny had both its favourable and its unfavourable side: while it discouraged anonymous and false information, it distinctly marked the profession of the Gospel as a crime to be punished on conviction; and very soon a way was found to deprive the Christians of such protection as they might have hoped to derive from the hazardous nature of the informer’s office. They were no longer attacked by individual accusers; but at public festivals the multitudes assembled in the amphitheatres learnt to call for a sacrifice of the Christians, as wretches whose impiety was the cause of floods and earthquakes, of plagues, famines, and defeats; and it was seldom that a governor dared to refuse such a demand.

A visit of Hadrian to Athens, when he was initiated into the mysteries of Eleusis, excited the heathen inhabitants with the hope of gratifying their hatred of the Christians; and the occasion induced two of these—Quadratus, who had been an “evangelist”, or missionary, and Aristides, a converted philosopher—to address the emperor in written arguments for their religion. The “Apologies” appear to have been well received; and they became the first in a series of works which powerfully and effectively set forth the truth of the Gospel, in contrast with the fables and the vices of heathenism. About the same time a plea for justice and toleration was offered by a heathen magistrate. Serennius Granianus, when about to leave the proconsulship of Asia, represented to Hadrian the atrocities which were committed in compliance with the popular clamours against the Christians; and the emperor, in consequence, addressed letters to Minucius Fundanus, the successor of Granianus, and to other provincial governors. He orders that the Christians should no longer be given up to the outcries of the multitude; if convicted of any offence, they are to be sentenced according to their deserts; but the forms of law must be duly observed, and the authors of unfounded charges are to be severely punished. This rescript was valuable, as affording protection against a new form of persecution; but it was still far from establishing a complete toleration, since it omitted to define whether Christianity were in itself a crime, and thus left the matter to the discretion or caprice of the local magistrates.

The reign of Hadrian was very calamitous for the Jews. In the last years of Trajan there had been Jewish insurrections in Egypt, Cyprus, Mesopotamia, and. elsewhere, which had been put down with great severity, and had drawn fresh oppressions on the whole people. By these, and especially by the insult which Hadrian offered to their religion, in settling a Roman colony on the site of the holy city, the Jews of Palestine were excited to a formidable revolt, under a leader who assumed the name of Barcochab, and was believed by his followers to be the Messiah. After a protracted and very bloody war, the revolt was suppressed. Many Jews were put to death, some were sold at the price of horses, others were transported from the land of their fathers; and no Jew was allowed to approach Jerusalem except on one day in the year—the anniversary of the capture by Titus, when, for a heavy payment, they were admitted to mourn over the seat of their fallen greatness. The Roman city of Aelia Capitolina was built on the foundations of Jerusalem; a temple of Jupiter defiled Mount Zion; and it is said that profanations of a like kind were committed in the places hallowed by the birth, the death, and the burial of our Lord.

While the revolt was as yet successful, the Christians of Palestine suffered severely for refusing to acknowledge Barcochab. The measures of Hadrian, after its suppression, led to an important change in the church of Jerusalem. Wishing to disconnect themselves visibly from the Jews, the majority of its members abandoned the Mosaic usages which they had until then retained; they chose for the first time a bishop of Gentile race, and conformed to the practice of Gentile churches. On these conditions they were allowed to reside in Aelia, while such of their brethren as still adhered to the distinctively Jewish Christianity retired to Pella and other places beyond the Jordan, where their fathers had found a refuge during the siege of Jerusalem by Titus.

 

CHAPTER III.

THE REIGNS OF THE ANTONINES A.D. 138-180.