BOOK I

FROM THE PERSECUTION OF THE CHURCH BY NERO TO CONSTANTINE’S EDICT OF TOLERATION. A.D. 64-313.

CHAPTER VI.

FROM ALEXANDER SEVERUS TO VALERIAN, A.D. 222-260.

 

Elagabalus was succeeded in 222 by his cousin Alexander Severus, a boy of sixteen. The young emperor was inclined to favour the Christians, partly through the influence of his mother, Mammaea, who, notwithstanding her acknowledged vices of avarice and ambition, is described both by heathen writers and by Eusebius as a “very devout woman”. Alexander had many Christians in his household. In appointing to civil offices he adopted a rule observed by the church in ordinations—that the names of candidates should be publicly exhibited, and that an opportunity of objecting to them should be allowed. He frequently used the evangelical maxim of “doing to others as we would that they should do to us”, and caused it to be inscribed on the walls of his palace, and of other public buildings. When a piece of land, which had been regarded as common, was taken by a Christian congregation as a site for a church, and the company of victuallers at Rome set up a rival claim, he adjudged it to the Christians, on the ground that any kind of religious use would be better than the conversion of it into a tavern. Nay, it is said that he thought of enrolling Christ among the gods, and erecting a temple to him.

It is, however, a mistake to suppose either the emperor or his mother to have been a Christian. Mammaea’s interest in the gospel appears to have really not extended beyond a slight inquiry into its doctrines and a favourable opinion of its professors. Alexander’s religion was eclectic: he had in his oratory images, not only of Roman gods, including such of his predecessors as had been deified, but of Isis and Serapis, of Orpheus, Abraham, and Apollonius of Tyana; and with these was associated the image of the Saviour. It is evident, therefore, that the emperor did not regard Christianity as the one true religion, but as one of many forms, all acceptable to the Deity, all containing somewhat of truth, and differing only in outward circumstances; that he revered its Founder, not as Divine, but as one worthy to be ranked among the chief of the sages who have enlightened and benefited mankind. Nor, although the Christians were, on the whole, practically tolerated in this reign, was anything done towards the establishment of a formal and legal toleration; indeed there were some instances of persecution and martyrdom, and it was probably under Alexander that the celebrated lawyer Ulpian, in his book “On the duties of a Proconsul”, made an elaborate digest of the laws against the profession of the gospel.

The estimable but somewhat weak Alexander was murdered in 235; and the Christians suffered at the hands of his successor, Maximin the Thracian, for the favour which they had lately enjoyed. The barbarian emperor’s motives for persecution were wholly independent of religion; for of that, in any form, he was utterly regardless—melting down for his own use the gold and silver ornaments of heathen temples, and even the images of the gods. His rage was directed against such Christians only as had been connected with the court, among whom Origen was especially noted. But about the same time earthquakes in several provinces afforded a pretext for popular risings; and in these tumultuary outbreaks churches were burnt and many Christians were put to death.

The reign of Gordian (A.D. 238-244) and that of Philip the Arabian (A.D. 244-249) were friendly to the church. Origen, writing under the latter, says that God had given the Christians the free exercise of their religion, and anticipates the conversion of the empire;—a new idea, remarkably opposed to the tone of the earlier Christian writers, who had always regarded the Roman power as incurably hostile and persecuting,—as an oppression from which there could be no hope of deliverance except through the coming of the end. Under Philip, Rome completed the thousandth year from its foundation; and it has been dwelt on by many writers as a remarkable circumstance, that this event took place under an emperor whom they supposed to have been a Christian. The games and rites with which it was celebrated, however, were purely heathen in character; and, although it seems to be true that both Philip and his wife received letters from the great Christian teacher Origen, there is little reason for supposing that the emperor’s guilty life was combined with a belief in the gospel. Towards the end of the reign there was a persecution at Alexandria.

Decius is memorable as the first emperor who attempted to extirpate the Christian religion by a general persecution of its professors. His edicts are lost; but the records of the time exhibit a departure from the system which had been usually observed by enemies of the church since the days of Trajan. The authorities now sought out Christians; the legal order as to accusations was neglected; accusers ran no risk; and popular clamor was admitted instead of formal information.

The long enjoyment of peace had told unfavourably on the church. Cyprian in the west and Origen in the east speak of the secular spirit which had crept in among its members—of the pride, the luxury, the covetousness of the higher clergy; of the careless and irreligious lives of the people. And when, as Origen had foretold, a new season of trial came, the effects of the general relaxation were sadly displayed. On being summoned, in obedience to the emperor’s edict, to appear and offer sacrifice, multitudes of Christians in every city rushed to the forum —some induced by fear of confiscation, some by a wish to retain offices in the public service, some by dread of tortures, some by the entreties of friends and kindred : it seemed, says St. Cyprian, as if they had long been eager to find an opportunity for disowning their faith. The persecution was especially directed against the bishops and clergy. Among its victims were Fabian of Rome, Babylas of Antioch, and Alexander of Jerusalem; while in the lives of other eminent men (as Cyprian, Origen, Gregory Thaumaturgus, and Dionysius of Alexandria) the period is marked by exile or other sufferings. The chief object, however, was not to inflict death on the Christians, but to force them to recantation. With this view they were subjected to tortures, imprisonment, and want of food; and under such trials the constancy of many gave way. Many withdrew into voluntary banishment; among these was Paul, a young man of Alexandria, who took up his abode in the desert of the Thebaid, and is celebrated as the first Christian hermit. The violence of the persecution did not last above a year; for in the end of 251 Decius was killed in battle with the Goths, and the short reign of Gallus passed away without injury to the Christians, except that in some provinces they suffered from the outrages of the populace, who charged them with having caused a plague which for fifteen years afflicted the empire.

Valerian, the successor of Gallus, is described by Dionysius of Alexandria as having for a time been more favourable to the church than even those among his predecessors who had been reputed Christians—words which are supposed to designate Alexander, and either Philip or Mammaea. But in his fifth year the emperor changed his policy, at the instigation of Macrianus, his chief adviser, who is said to have been connected with Egyptian magicians. At first it was thought that the gospel might be suppressed by removing the teachers of the church, and forbidding its members to hold assemblies for worship, or to resort to the cemeteries. Finding, however, that these measures had no decided effect, Valerian issued a second edict, by which it was ordered that the clergy should be put to death; that senators and knights should be deprived of their dignities and property, and, if they persisted in the faith, should be capitally punished; that women of rank should suffer confiscation of property and be sent into banishment. But even this edict did not enact any penalty against persons of inferior condition, so that the great mass of Christians would seem to have been unmolested by its operation. Valerian’s attempt to check the progress of the gospel was utterly ineffectual. The church had been purified and strengthened by her late calamities, so that there were now few instances of apostasy such as those which had been so common under Decius. The faith and patience of the martyrs animated their surviving brethren, and impressed many of the heathen; bishops, when driven from their flocks, were followed by multitudes of believers; and in the places of their exile they found opportunities for spreading the doctrine of Christ among people to whom it was before unknown.

Dionysius applies to Valerian the Apocalyptic description of the beast to whom was given “a mouth speaking great things and blasphemies”, with “power to continue forty and two months”. After having lasted three years and a half the persecution was ended by the capture and death of the emperor in Persia— a calamity and disgrace without example in the Roman annals. Among the martyrs under Valerian were Xystus, bishop of Rome, with his deacon, Laurence; and Cyprian, bishop of Carthage.

Of the eminent men of this period, those who most especially claim our notice are Origen, Dionysius of Alexandria, and Cyprian.

Origen was born at Alexandria about the year 185, and from his childhood was carefully trained, both in literature and in religion, by his father, Leonides, who was a Christian, and by profession a teacher of rhetoric. He daily learnt by heart a portion of the Scriptures, and thus laid the foundation of his extraordinary biblical knowledge, and also of that reverence for the sacred writings which controlled him in all the wanderings of his speculations. The tendency of his mind was early shown by the questions which he put to his father as to the meaning of Scripture—endeavouring to discover a sense beyond that which lay on the surface. Leonides, although himself no enemy to the deeper system of interpretation, discouraged such inquiries as unsuitable to his son's years; but his heart was filled with joy and thankfulness on account of the rare gifts which appeared in the boy. While his father was yet alive, Origen studied at the catechetical school, under the mastership of Clement, and there formed a friendship with Alexander, afterwards bishop of Jerusalem, which had an important influence on his later career.

The persecution of Severus was especially violent at Alexandria, and Leonides was one of the victims. Origen was eager for martyrdom, and was saved only through the care of his mother, who, after having vainly endeavoured to dissuade him from exposing himself to danger, compelled him to remain at home by hiding his clothes. Being thus prevented from sharing his father’s sufferings, the youth displayed his zeal by a fervent letter to Leonides while in prison, exhorting him not to be shaken in his constancy by a regard for those whom he was to leave behind him. As the death of Leonides was accompanied by the seizure of his property, the widow with her seven children fell into deep distress. Origen, who was the eldest of the seven, was compassionately received into the house of a wealthy Christian lady; but in this asylum he was annoyed by the presence of a gnostic teacher, Paul of Antioch, whom his benefactress had adopted and intended to make her heir. The eloquence of Paul was such as even to attract many of the orthodox to his teaching; but Origen, although he could not altogether avoid intercourse with him, steadily refused to attend any of his lectures.

The catechetical school had been broken up by the persecution. Clement, as we have seen, had left Alexandria—not out of any unworthy regard for his personal safety, but in compliance with his view of Christian duty. In these circumstances, Origen, whose extraordinary abilities and precocious learning were already noted, received applications from some educated heathens who wished to be instructed in Christian doctrine; and having thus, at the age of eighteen, found himself drawn into assuming the office of a public teacher, he was soon after formally appointed by the bishop, Demetrius, to the mastership of the catechetical school. Among his earliest pupils were two brothers, Heraclas, eventually bishop of Alexandria, and Plutarch. The persecution was renewed with increased violence on the arrival of a new governor, and Plutarch and others of Origen’s scholars were martyred. Their master stood by them to encourage them in their sufferings; nor did he himself escape without having been severely treated by the populace.

Wishing to be exempt from the necessity of taking any payment for his lessons, in obedience (as he supposed) to the text, “Freely ye have received, freely give”, Origen sold a valuable collection of manuscripts for an allowance of four oboli a-day, and on this scanty income he contrived to live. He endeavoured to realize to the letter the gospel precepts of poverty. He had but one coat, which was too thin to protect him against the cold of winter; he walked barefoot; he contented himself with such food as was absolutely necessary, abstaining from flesh and wine; he spent the greater part of the night in study; and when he slept, it was on the bare floor. By these austerities were sown the seeds of ailments which afflicted him throughout his life.

Among those who resorted to his lectures were many young women. The intercourse with such pupils exposed him both to temptations and to the risk of slander; and from a wish to avoid these evils he acted literally on our Lord’s words, that some “have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake”. Although he endeavoured to conceal the act, it came to the knowledge of Demetrius; and the bishop, at the time, far from showing any disapproval of it, commended his zeal, and encouraged him to continue his labors in the catechetical school. His fame as a teacher increased. In addition to his theological instructions, he lectured in grammar—a term which then included most of the branches of general literature; his school was frequented by Jews, heathens, and gnostics, and many of these were led through the pursuit of secular learning to embrace the faith of the gospel. The requirements of his position induced him to seek after a fuller acquaintance with heathen philosophy than that which he had gained from Clement; and for this purpose he became a hearer of Ammonius Saccas. It has been inferred, from the circumstances which have been mentioned as to Origen’s conduct in early life, that he was then addicted to an extremely literal interpretation of the Scriptures—a system very opposite to that which he pursued in maturer years; and the supposed change has been ascribed to the influence of Ammonius. But the truth would rather appear to be, that both in his earlier and in his later phases he was animated by the same spirit. The actions which his judgment afterwards condemned as carnal were prompted by a desire to emancipate himself from the flesh; and that which he really derived from Ammonius was not a reversal of his former principles, but a development and enlargement of his views.

The peace which the Christians enjoyed during the reign of Caracalla induced Origen to visit Rome where the church was then under the government of Zephyrinus. After a short stay in the imperial city he returned to Alexandria, and resumed his catechetical office, devolving the instruction of the less advanced students on Heraclas, while he reserved his own works for those who were to be led into the full depths of his system of interpretation. It appears to have been about this time that he entered on the study of Hebrew—a language then commonly neglected by the learned men of the Alexandrian school, but attractive to Origen, not only as being generally useful towards the understanding of the Old Testament, but especially on account of the mysteries involved in scriptural names. A massacre which took place at Alexandria under Caracalla, although unconnected with any question of religion drove Origen for a time from the city. He visited the Holy Land, where he was received with honour by his old fellow-student, Alexander, bishop of Jerusalem, and by Theoctistus, bishop of Caesarea; and, although a layman, he was desired by them to preach in their churches. On hearing of this, Demetrius of Alexandria remonstrated, but Theoctistus and Alexander justified themselves by precedents which showed that laymen had been permitted to preach in the presence of bishops, and with their sanction. Demetrius, however, was offended; he summoned Origen to return to his duties in the catechetical school, and the deacons who conveyed the letter were charged to conduct him back.

Among Origen’s chief friends and admirers was a man of fortune named Ambrose, who had been converted by him from some form of gnostic heresy, and afterwards became a deacon. Ambrose urged his teacher to engage in the illustration of Scripture, and supplied him with the funds necessary for forming a collection of manuscripts, and employing a large body of amanuenses and transcribers. Among the results of this munificence were the first regular commentaries on the sacred books (for the earlier expositions had been confined to particular texts or sections); and besides these, a work which entitles Origen to rank as the father of biblical criticism. The original object of this great undertaking was controversial,—to ascertain the true text of the Septuagint, and to vindicate that version against the Jews, who, since the adoption and general use of it by Christians, had made it their policy to disparage it as inferior to later translations. For this purpose Origen exhibited in parallel columns,— (1) the original Hebrew text; (2) the same in Greek letters; (3) the version by Aquila; (4) the version of Symmachus; (5) the Septuagint, edited from an elaborate collection of MSS.; and (6) the version of Theodotion. From its six columns the whole work was called Hexapla, and, from the addition of two imperfect versions in certain parts, it had also the name of Odapla. This gigantic work appears to have been begun at Alexandria; it extended over eight-and-twenty years, and was completed only a short time before Origen’s death. The original manuscript, which was preserved at Caesarea, is supposed to have perished at the destruction of the Caesarean library by the Arabs, in the year 653. It had never been transcribed as a whole; but separate copies of the various columns had been made, and that of the Septuagint became a standard text of that version.

In consequence of the reputation which Origen had attained, applications for instruction and advice were made to him from distant quarters. Thus, before his first visit to Palestine, he had been invited by a person of authority in Arabia—most probably a Roman governor, although some writers suppose him to have been the head of a native tribe—to teach his people the Christian faith, and had complied with the invitation. At a later time Mammaea, the mother of Alexander Severus, summoned him to Antioch, and conferred with him on religious subjects. In like manner he was requested, in the year 228, to visit Greece, for the confutation of some heresies which were disturbing the church of that country. He set out, bearing with him letters of commendation from his bishop, according to the practice of the time, and took his way through Palestine, where, at the age of forty-three, he was ordained presbyter by his friends Theoctistus and Alexander. In explanation of this it has been supposed that the bishops wished him to address their flocks, as on his former visit that Origen reminded them of the objections then made by Demetrius; that, by way of guarding against further complaints, they offered to ordain him; and that he accepted the offer, in the belief that Demetrius, although determined not to raise him to the presbyterate like his predecessors Pantaenus and Clement, would allow him to rank among the Alexandrian presbyters, if the order were conferred on him elsewhere by bishops of eminent station and character. After having successfully accomplished his business in Greece, Origen returned to Alexandria in 230 but in the meantime his ordination had given rise to much dispute. Demetrius, on being informed of it, vehemently expostulated with Alexander and Theoctistus, apprising them of the rash act of Origen’s youthful zeal, which, by one of the canons which claim the title of Apostolical, is pronounced a bar to ordination. This information was new to the bishops; for Origen had said nothing of the impediment. If the canon existed at so early a time, it is yet possible that he may have been unacquainted with it; or he may have reasonably supposed himself to be exempt from its operation, since the object of it unquestionably was to check the fanatical spirit which prompted such acts, whereas he had long passed through the stage at which he had anything in common with that spirits. But, although the proceedings of Demetrius have been attributed by St. Jerome to envy of Origen’s genius and fame, and although his conduct was certainly marked by an unjustifiable violence and harshness, it is not impossible that he may have acted from sincerely conscientious motives. He had been glad to retain Origen’s services as a teacher, but refused to acknowledge him as a presbyter.

In addition to the irregularity of his ordination, Origen had given offence by some of his speculations. Finding his position at Alexandria uneasy, he withdrew to Caesarea, and after his departure Demetrius assembled two synods, by which Origen was deprived of his office in the catechetical school, his orders were annulled and he was excommunicated as a heretic. The result of these synods was made generally known to the bishops of other countries. By the rules of catholic communion, the decisions of one church in such matters were usually received by the rest, without inquiry into the merits of the case: and thus the sentence against Origen was ratified at Rome and elsewhere, while it was disregarded in those countries which had especially felt his personal influence,—in Palestine, Phoenicia, Arabia, and Achaia. Demetrius died soon after, and was succeeded in the see by Heraclas : but it is remarkable that no attempt was made by the new bishop to rescind the condemnation of his former teacher and colleague.

At Caesarea, under the patronage of Theoctistus and Alexander, Origen found not only a refuge, but the opportunity for active and conspicuous work. As there was no institution like the Alexandrian school, he took the position of an independent philosophical teacher, and his instructions were sought, not only by Christians, but by many heathens. Among these the most celebrated were two brothers, natives of Pontus, named Theodore and Athenodore, who, having been led to visit Palestine by family circumstances, became hearers of Origen in philosophy and literature, and were gradually guided by him to the Christian faith. Both eventually became bishops. It is said that Theodore, who at his baptism had taken the name of Gregory, at entering on his diocese of Neocaesarea, in Pontus, found in it only seventeen Christians, and that at his death he left in it only seventeen heathens—a statement which may be taken as expressing in an exaggerated form a really signal course of successful labour. He afterwards became the subject of many marvellous tales, from which he received the name of Thaumaturgus, or miracle-worker.

After a residence of five or six years at Caesarea, Origen was compelled by the persecution of Maximin to take refuge at the Cappadocian city of the same name under the protection of the bishop, Firmilian, who had been one of his pupils; and when the persecution reached Cappadocia, he was sheltered in the house of Juliana, a wealthy Christian virgin, where he discovered an important addition to his materials for the Hexapla—his protectress having inherited the library of Symmachus, an Ebionite translator of the Old Testament. On the death of Maximin he returned to Caesarea in Palestine. It was probably after this that he was invited to be present at a synod held in Arabia on account of Beryllus, bishop of Bostra, who, although seemingly unconnected with the schools of Praxeas and Noetus, had arrived at a doctrine similar to theirs—that in the unity of the Godhead there is no distinction of Persons; that the Son had no personality before his incarnation. The synod condemned the doctrine, but could not convince Beryllus; Origen, however, succeeded in proving to him the unsoundness of his view, and received the thanks of both parties. On another occasion he was summoned to combat the opinion of an Arabian sect, which held that the soul as well as the body is dissolved at death, and will be restored to being at the resurrection.

In the persecution under Decius, Origen lost his steadfast friend Alexander of Jerusalem. He was himself imprisoned and cruelly tortured; and the effect of this treatment on a frame worn out by age, study, and sickness, hastened his death, which took place at Tyre about the year 255.

The great object of this eminent teacher was to harmonize Christianity with philosophy. He sought to combine in a Christian scheme the fragmentary truths scattered throughout other systems; to establish the gospel in a form which should not present obstacles to the conversion of Jews, of Gnostics, and of cultivated heathens; and his errors arose from a too eager pursuit of this idea.

Origen’s principles of interpreting Scripture have been already mentioned by anticipation. It was from him that the Alexandrian method received its completion. He distinguished in Scripture a threefold sense—the literal, the moral, and the mystical—answering respectively to the body, soul, and spirit in man. As at the marriage of Cana some waterpots contained two firkins and some three, so (he taught) Scripture in “every jot and tittle” has the moral and the mystical senses, and in most parts it has the literal sense also. The Holy Spirit, it was said, made use of the literal history where it was suitable for conveying the mystical sense; where this was not the case, He invented the story with a view to that purpose; and in the Law, while He laid down some things to be literally observed, other precepts were in their letter impossible or absurd. By this principle much of the letter of Scripture was rejected; but such passages, both in the Old and in the New Testament, were, according to Origen, set by the Holy Spirit as stumbling-blocks in the way, that the discerning reader, by seeing the insufficiency of the letter, might be incited to seek after the understanding of the spiritual meaning. Such portions of Scripture were not the less Divine for their “mean and despicable” form; it was the fault of human weakness if men would not penetrate through this veil to the treasure which was hidden below. As, therefore, Origen denounced the gnostic impiety of supposing the various parts of the Bible to have come from different sources, so he held it no less necessary to guard against the error of many Christians, who while they acknowledged the same God in the Old and in the New Testament, yet ascribed to Him actions unworthy of the most cruel and unjust of men. It was (he said) through a carnal understanding of the letter that the Jews were led to crucify our Lord, and still to continue in their unbelief. Those who would insist on the letter were like the Philistines who filled up with earth the wells which Abraham’s servants had digged; the mystical interpreter was, like Isaac, to open the wells. In justice to Origen, we must remember that the literal system of interpretation, as understood in his day, was something very different from the grammatical and historical exposition of modern times. It made no attempt to overcome difficulties or to harmonize seeming discrepancies; and when applied to the explanation of prophecy, it embarrassed the advocates of orthodox Christianity and gave great advantages to their opponents. To get rid of it was, therefore, desirable with a view to the controversies with the Jews and Montanists.

Whereas (it was said) the heathen philosophers addressed themselves exclusively to the more educated, Holy Scripture condescends to persons of every kind, according to their capacities; its narrative was “most wisely ordained”, with a view both to the mass of simpler believers, and to the comparatively small number who should be desirous or able to inquire more deeply with understanding. The letter, therefore, was allowed to be sufficient for the unlearned; but, although in this opinion Origen resembled some of the Gnostic teachers, he was utterly opposed to their contempt for the less instructed brethren, and to their representation of whole classes of men as hopelessly shut out from the higher grades of understanding. Every one, he held, was bound to advance according to his means and opportunities. The literal sense might be understood by any attentive reader; the moral required higher intelligence; the mystical was to be apprehended only through the grace of the Holy Spirit, which was to be obtained by prayer; nor did Origen himself pretend to possess this grace in such a degree as would entitle him to claim any authority for his comments. Whereas Clement had spoken with fear of divulging his mystical interpretations, and had given them as traditional, Origen’s are offered merely as the offspring of his own mind, and his only fear is lest they should be wrong. Of the mystical sense, he held that there were two kinds—the allegorical, where the Old Testament prefigured the history of Christ and his church; and the anagogical, where the narrative typified the things of a higher world. For, as St. Paul speaks of a “Jerusalem which is above”, Origen held the existence of a spiritual world in which everything of this earth has its antitype. And thus passages of Scripture, which in their letter he supposed to be fictitious, were to be regarded as shadowing forth realities of the higher world which earthly things could not sufficiently typify.

These principles of exposition were not laid down without cautions and safeguards as to their application; and in Origen himself they were controlled by a faithful, devout, and dutiful spirit. But it is evident that they tend to no less an evil than the subversion of all belief in the historical truth of Scripture.

There is a difficulty in ascertaining Origen’s opinions on many points—not only from the obscurity of the subjects which he treats, but also because his remaining writings are in great part preserved only in translations which are known to be unfaithful. Even in his own lifetime he had to complain of falsifications by heretics, and of misrepresentation by indiscreet admirers, while he was conscious that prejudiced readers might be likely to misapprehend him as heretical. His soundness as to the highest of Christian doctrines had been much questioned; indeed, the Arians claimed him as a forerunner of their heresy. But St. Athanasius spoke of him with respect, explained his language, and vindicated him from misconstruction. Bishop Bull, too, defends his orthodoxy; but even after the somewhat large postulate that he may be judged only by his treatise against Celsus—as being the most matured offspring of his mind, and the only one of his works which is not probably corrupted—our great theologian finds much exercise for his learning and ingenuity in drawing forth a catholic sense from passages of questionable appearance.

To Origen is due the invention of a term which, as happily expressing the traditional belief, has been adopted into the language of the church—the “eternal generation” of God the Son. He illustrated the mode of this by a comparison with the emission of brightness from light. It was not, he said, a thing which had taken place once for all, but is ever continued in the “everlasting now” of the Divine existence.

His doctrines as to the creation were very singular. Rejecting the gnostic view, which supposed matter independent of God, he maintained that, as God is omnipotent and Lord, he must always have had something over which to exercise his power and dominion; and consequently that the work of creation from nothing must have been eternal. The object of this theory was to reconcile the Mosaic narrative with the Platonic notion that the world had eternally emanated from God. There had (he taught) been multitudes of worlds before the present, and there would yet be multitudes after its end—the nearness of which he supposed to be indicated by the fact of our Lord’s having already appeared in the flesh. The number of souls originally created was final; there had been no additions to it, but the same souls continually reappeared in an endless variety of forms. All were at first perfect, and were endued with freedom of will. By abuse of this they contracted a guilt which required purgation; hence the worlds were created that the beings who had sinned might be awakened to a sense of their estrangement from God and to a craving after blessedness—that they might be purified through conflict for restoration to their first estates The disobedient souls were treated according to the measure of their offence. Those which had least sinned became angels, living in the planets, and occupied in works of ministry for men; the worst of all became devils; while, for such as were confined in bodies of flesh, the whole complication of their being and circumstances was arranged in proportion as they had sinned more or less grievously. Some, however, were plunged deeper than the degree of their guilt had deserved, in order that they might help in the instruction and deliverance of their fellows; and thus Origen supposes that the death of a righteous man may have a redeeming effect for others. He divided mankind into carnal, psychical, and spiritual, but instead of supposing, like the Gnostics, that each man was immovably fixed in a particular class, he maintained that all were originally alike, that the differences between them arose from the exercise of their free will, and that none were unchangeably good or bad. He allowed Adam to be a historical person—the first of the sinful spirits who was embodied in flesh; but, like Philo, he regarded the history of the fall as an allegory. One soul only there was which had not sinned. This, by continual contemplation of the Divine Logos, had adhered to him or been absorbed in him; and thus it had made the way for that union of Godhead with a material body which but for such a medium would have been impossible. As the gospel was adapted to men of every kind, so Origen, in accordance (as he professed) with tradition, supposed that our Lord’s appearance while on earth varied according to the characters of those who beheld him.

Origen’s views as to the mediatorial work of the Saviour are difficult to understand, and no less so to reconcile with orthodox belief. He considers the death on the cross as representing something which is spiritually repeated in the higher world, and which has its effect towards the deliverance of the angels. He allows that, in order to become or to remain good, grace is necessary as well as free-will; but he appears to have erred in allowing too much to the ordinary powers with which he supposed our nature to be endowed.

All punishment, he holds, is merely corrective and remedial, being ordained in order that all creatures may be restored to their original perfection. At the resurrection all mankind will have to pass through a fire : the purged spirits will enter into paradise, a place of training for the consummation; the wicked will remain in the “fire”, which, however, is not described as material, but as a mental and spiritual misery. The matter and food of it, he says, are our sins, which, when swollen to the height, are inflamed to become our punishment; and the “outer darkness” is the darkness of ignorance. But the condition of these spirits is not without hope, although thousands of years may elapse before their suffering shall have wrought its due effect on them. On the other hand, those who are admitted into paradise may abuse their free-will, as in the beginning, and may consequently be doomed to a renewal of their sojourn in the flesh. Every reasonable creature—even Satan himself—may be turned from evil to good, so as not to be excluded from salvation. At the final consummation the soul will dwell in a glorified organ, of which the germ is in the present body. Its pleasures will be purely spiritual; the saints will understand all the mysteries of the Divine providence and of the ordinances given by God to Israel. Love, which “never faileth”, will preserve the whole creation from the possibility of any further fall; and “God will be all in all”.

The reputation of Origen has had vehement assailants and no less zealous defenders. Certain propositions ascribed to him were condemned, and an anathema was attached to his name, by a synod held at Constantinople in the sixth century; and it may perhaps be thought that the mischief of any particular errors in doctrine is far exceeded by that of the perverse method of interpreting Scripture which owed to him its completeness and much of its popularity. But, with whatever abatements on the ground of his errors—however strong may be our sense of the evil which his system produced, or was fitted to produce, in the hands of others—we must think of Origen himself as a man who not only devoted all the energies of his mind during a long life to what he conceived to be the truth, but believed his views of truth to be consistent with the traditional faith of the church. His peculiar opinions arose (as has been already said) from a wish to overcome the supposed incompatibility of philosophy with the gospel; he desired in all things to hold fast the foundation of essential Christian doctrine; he proposed his own speculations with modesty, and claimed for them no higher character than that of probable conjectures.

His piety is as unquestioned as the greatness of his genius and the depth of his learning; he suffered much for the gospel, and may, indeed, almost be reckoned as a martyr. While he lived he was the chief opponent of heresy in all its varieties; the multitude of converts whom he brought over to the church from heathenism, Judaism, and corrupted forms of Christianity, is a noble testimony to his earnestness and love no less than to his controversial ability. We may, therefore, well say with the candid Tillemont, that, although such a man might hold heretical opinions, he could not be a heretic, since he was utterly free from that spirit which constitutes the guilt of heresy.

Among the most distinguished of Origen’s pupils was Dionysius, who succeeded Heraclas, first in the catechetical school (A.D. 232), and afterwards in the see of Alexandria (A.D. 248). This eminent man, after having been brought up as a heathen, was led to embrace Christianity by a perusal of St. Paul’s epistles. As he continued after his ordination to read the works of heathens and heretics, a presbyter remonstrated with him on the dangerous nature of such studies, and Dionysius was impressed by the remonstrance; but he was reassured by a vision or dream, in which he heard a voice saying to him, “Read whatsoever may fall into thy hands; for thou art able to read with discernment, and to reject what is worthless, since even thus it was that thou wert first brought to the faith”.

Dionysius was not more admirable for his learning than for his wisdom and moderation. His name will repeatedly come before us in connection with the affairs of the church; but two controversies in which he took part may be here particularly mentioned.

(1.) About the year 257, the Libyan Pentapolis, the native country of Sabellius, was greatly disturbed by his heresy, and the matter came under the official notice of the Egyptian primate. Dionysius combated the Sabellian errors both in conference and by writing; but unhappily he used some expressions which gave a pretext for charging him with opinions resembling those afterwards broached by Arius, as if he had denied the eternal Sonship. His language was reported to the bishop of Rome as heretical—not that any jurisdiction over Alexandria was supposed to belong to Rome, but because the matter was one of common concern; because, in proportion to the eminence of a bishop’s see, it was his duty to investigate and to act in such cases; and because the first of bishops was the person to whom complaints against the second were most naturally carried. On this the bishop of Rome, who was also named Dionysius, held a council, and requested an explanation; and Dionysius of Alexandria, disregarding for the sake of peace and unity all that might have excited his jealousy in such an interference, replied by a satisfactory vindication of his orthodoxy.

(2.) The doctrine of Chiliasm or Millennarianism is styled in the first Articles of the reformed English church “a Jewish dotage”; but, although no doubt derived from Judaism, it must not be considered as indicative of a Jewish tendency. There was, indeed, in common with Judaism, the belief that the Messiah would reign personally on earth, that his kingdom would have Jerusalem for its seat, and that it would last a thousand years; but (besides other important differences,—as that the Jewish millennium was expected to follow immediately on the Messiah’s first appearance, whereas the Christians looked to his second coming) the Christian chiliasm showed no favour to the fleshly Israel, nor even to its holy city; for the new Jerusalem was to come down from heaven, and to take the place of the earthly, which was to perish.

The chiliastic opinions were very early professed. Among their advocates is said to have been Papias, bishop of Hierapolis, who is commonly described as a hearer of the apostle St. John; and by the end of the second century they appear to have become general in the church, recommended as they were by their offering a ground of opposition to pagan Rome, and affording a near consolation to the faithful in persecutions and trials. The doctrine was embraced by the Montanists with great ardour; but the very circumstance that it became a characteristic of this enthusiastic sect tended to bring it into discredit with the orthodox, and other causes contributed to its decline. The idealizing and spiritualizing tendencies of the Alexandrian school, which came into vigour about the same time, were strongly opposed to the literalism on which the chiliastic opinions rested; and, moreover, the doctrine was found a hindrance to the conversion of Greeks and Romans, as being offensive to their national feelings. For such reasons it had for many years been sinking until the persecution of Decius may have tended to revive its popularity among those who felt the approach of suffering for the faith.

Nepos, an Egyptian bishop, had written a chiliastic book entitled a “Refutation of the Allegorists”; and about the year 255—Nepos himself being then dead— it was reported that his opinions had found many converts in the district of Arsinoe. Dionysius, on hearing of the matter, behaved with his characteristic prudence; he went to the spot, requested a conference with the millenarian party, and spent three days in discussing with them the book of Nepos, of whom he was careful to speak with great respect and affection. The result was, that, whereas a less considerate course of dealing with them might have driven the followers of Nepos into schism, Dionysius succeeded in convincing them, and was warmly thanked by their leader, Coracion; and from this time chiliasm, although it still had adherents, and in the next century found a champion in Apollinarius of Laodicea, was little heard of in the eastern church.

As the name of Origen is famous in the history of doctrine, that of his contemporary Cyprian1 is no less so in connection with the government and discipline of the church. Thascius Cyprianus was born at Carthage or in its neighbourhood about the year 200, and, after having been distinguished as a teacher of rhetoric, he embraced Christianity in mature age. His earlier life had not been free from the usual impurities of heathen morals, although perhaps the abhorrence with which he spoke of it, when viewing it by the light of the gospel, may give an exaggerated idea of the degree in which he had been stained by them. On his conversion, and probably while yet a catechumen, he displayed his zeal by selling a villa and gardens which he possessed near Carthage, and devoting the price, with a large portion of his other property, to the relief of the poor. His deacon and biographer, Pontius, however, tells us that these gardens were afterwards restored to Cyprian “by the indulgence of God”—most probably through the instrumentality of friends who combined to repurchase them and present them to him. At his baptism, Cyprian added to his old name, Thascius, that of Caecilius, in remembrance of a presbyter who had influenced his conversion. He was rapidly promoted to the offices of deacon and presbyter; and on a vacancy in the see of Carthage, within three years after his conversion, he was elected bishop by the general desire of the people—his signal merit being regarded as a warrant for dispensing with the apostolical warning against the promotion of recent converts, as well as for overruling his own unwillingness to undertake the responsibility of such a charge. Five presbyters, however, were opposed to his election; and, notwithstanding his attempts to conciliate them, they continued to regard him with an implacable feeling of enmity.

Cyprian entered on his episcopate with an earnest resolution to correct the abuses and disorders which he found prevailing among his flock; but after two years his labours for this purpose were interrupted by the persecution under Decius. At Carthage, as elsewhere in that persecution, the bishop was especially aimed at; the heathen populace clamoured that he should be thrown to the lions and Cyprian—not from fear, but in consequence (as he states) of a heavenly warning, and from a conviction that such a course was most for the benefit of his church—withdrew to a retreat at no great distance, where he remained about fourteen months. His property was confiscated on his disappearance.

The unworthy behaviour of Christians in this persecution has been already mentioned. Besides those who actually sacrificed to the heathen gods, multitudes, by a payment to the magistrates, obtained certificates of having obeyed the emperor’s commands; and many of these, who were called libellatics, persuaded themselves, by an ignorant sort of casuistry, that they had done nothing wrong. The troubles of the Carthaginian church were increased by a practice which originated in the high regard entertained for martyrs and confessors. From a natural feeling of respect for those who shed their blood for the faith, martyrs had been allowed, perhaps as early as the middle of the second century, to recommend for favourable consideration the cases of persons who were under ecclesiastical censure. This was originally the extent of their privilege, and it had been customary that the deacons should visit the martyrs in prison, for the purpose of suggesting caution in the distribution of their favours. But abuses had grown up in the course of years, and some daring novelties of this kind were now introduced at Carthage. One Lucian, inflated by the reputation which he had gained as a confessor, professed that a martyr named Paul had, in right of his martyrdom, bequeathed to him the power of granting readmission to the communion of the church. Tickets were made out in such a form as to be available, not only for the person named in them, but for an indefinite number of others; indulgences of this kind were distributed without limit, and even became a matter of traffic. The holders noisily insisted on immediate restoration to full communion; some bishops yielded to their importunity; and Lucian, in the name of all the confessors, wrote an insolent letter to Cyprian, announcing that they had granted reconciliation to all the lapsed, and desiring the bishop to convey the information to his episcopal brethren.

Cyprian from his retreat kept up a constant communication with his church, and endeavoured to check these disorders, while at the same time he showed an anxious desire to avoid interference with such privileges as might reasonably be supposed to belong to martyrs and confessors. He allowed that those among the lapsed who had received letters from the sufferers for the faith might be admitted to reconciliation, if in danger of death; but he directed that the rest should be reserved for an examination of their cases after his return to Carthage, and that in the meantime they should be exhorted to patience.

A short time after Easter 251, the bishop returned to his city, and held a council for the consideration of the questions as to the lapsed. It was agreed that such libellatics as had manifested repentance for their weakness should be forthwith admitted to communion, and that those who had sacrificed should be allowed to hope for admission after a longer period of penance. The latter class received a further indulgence in the following year, when, in the prospect of a renewed persecution, a synod under Cyprian resolved to grant immediate reconciliation to all who had shown themselves duly penitent.

Fresh commotions were excited at Carthage by a presbyter named Novatus. It is uncertain whether this man was one of the five presbyters who had objected to Cyprian’s promotion; but he had become noted for his insubordination and irregularities. Cyprian tells us that he had robbed widows and orphans, and had embezzled the funds of the church; that he had kicked his wife while pregnant, so as to cause the death of the child; that he had allowed his father to starve in the street, and had refused even to bury him; and that for these and other offences he was about to be brought to trial, when the outbreak of persecution under Decius put a stop to the proceedings. Novatus entered into a connection with Felicissimus, a man of wealth, but of indifferent character, and, either by usurping the episcopal power of ordination, or (as is more likely) by procuring the ministration of some bishop, advanced him to the order of deacon. These two, with others of the clergy, engaged in a course of strong opposition to Cyprian; they incited the lapsed against him; they disputed with his commissioners as to the distribution of the church funds; and about a year after the bishop’s return, Felicissimus proceeded to set up one of the malcontent presbyters, Fortunatus, as a rival in the see of Carthage— the consecration being performed by five bishops, who had all been deprived for heresy or lapse. Novatus, the founder of the schism, had in the meantime crossed the Mediterranean to Rome.

Fabian, bishop of Rome, was martyred in January, 250, and the see remained vacant until June in the following year, when Cornelius was elected. During this interval some letters were exchanged between Cyprian and the Roman clergy, who had been led by reports to think unfavourably of his withdrawal from his city, but afterwards came to understand him better, and agreed with him as to the course which should be pursued towards the lapsed. Among these clergy Novatian was eminent for eloquence and learning. He had received a philosophical education, although it is perhaps a mistake to infer from some of Cyprian’s expressions that he was ever professedly a stoic. His temper was morose and gloomy; he had at one time been vexed by a devil—for so the early Christians accounted for appearances which were probably like those of diseased melancholy. After this he had received clinical baptism,1 and on his recovery had neglected to seek the completion of the baptismal gift by imposition of the bishop's hands; yet, notwithstanding these irregularities, Fabian, from a wish to secure for the church the services of so able a man, had admitted him to the priesthood—having with difficulty overcome the reluctance which was shown by all the clergy and by a large portion of the laity; for both clergy and people had then a voice in the selection of persons to be ordained. In the time of the persecution, when urged to take a share in ministering to his suffering brethren, Novatian is said to have answered that he had no mind to be any longer a presbyter, and was attached to a different philosophy—words which seem to indicate that he preferred a recluse ascetic life to the active labours of his office.

During the vacancy of the see Novatian had great influence at Rome. Cyprian states that he was the writer of a letter in which the Roman clergy allowed that the lapsed might be reconciled to the church, if in danger of death; but after the election of Cornelius he became the leader of a schismatical party on principles incompatible with any such concession. He held that, although the penitent lapsed might be admitted to the Divine mercy, and therefore ought to be exhorted to repentance, yet the church had no power to grant them absolution, and must for ever exclude them from communion; that a church which communicated with such offenders forfeited its Christian character and privileges. Novatian had before protested that he did not desire the bishopric of Rome, and we need not suppose his protest insincere, as his severe and unsocial temperament inclined him to a life of seclusion. When, however, the schism was formed, he allowed himself to be set up as its head, and was consecrated by three bishops of obscure sees, who had been drawn to Rome under false pretences, and laid their hands on him in the evening, after a meal. The moving spirit in these proceedings was the Carthaginian Novatus. Possibly he may have disagreed with his old ally Felicissimus as to the treatment of the lapsed; or he may have taken the part of laxity at Carthage, and that of severity at Rome, from no better motive than a wish by either means to oppose the authority of the regular bishops.

Novatian sent notice of his consecration to the great churches of Alexandria, Antioch, and Carthage. Fabius of Antioch was inclined to acknowledge him, but died soon after, without having taken any decided measures. The letter to Dionysius of Alexandria appears to have been apologetic, representing that Novatian had been forced into the course which he had taken; to which Dionysius replied that, if it were so, he ought to show his sincerity by withdrawing from his rivalry to Cornelius, and endeavouring to heal the breach in the Roman church. At Carthage the schismatical envoys were repelled by a council which was sitting at the time of their arrival. One Maximus was afterwards set up as Novatianist bishop of Carthage, and intruders of the same kind were planted in other African dioceses.

A large number of the Roman confessors had at first been engaged in the schism. These soon discovered their error; they formally acknowledged Cornelius as bishop, and returned to the unity of the church, while Novatian endeavoured to secure the allegiance of his followers by requiring them, at the reception of the Eucharist, to swear that they would never forsake him or join Cornelius.

Novatianism found many proselytes in the west, and its principles became even more rigid than at first. The sentence of lifelong exclusion from communion, which had originally been applied to those only who had denied the faith, was afterwards extended to all who, after baptism, committed the greater sins. The Novatianists assumed the name of Cathari, or Puritans. They rebaptized proselytes from the church, considering its communion to be impure, and its ministrations to be consequently void. Some of them condemned digamy (or second marriage) as equally sinful with adultery. As to the chief doctrines of the gospel, however, the Novatianists were and continued steadily orthodox, and many of them suffered, even to death, for the faith. The council of Nicaea attempted to heal the schism by conciliatory measures; but the Novatianists still regarded the laxity of the church’s discipline as a bar to a reunion with it, although they were drawn into more friendly relations with the Catholics by a community of danger during the ascendency of Arianism. The sect long continued to exist. In Phrygia, it combined with the remnant of the Montanists; and at Alexandria, a patriarch found occasion to write against it so late as the end of the sixth century.

The opposite movement at Carthage was altogether a failure. It was in vain that Felicissimus endeavoured to get his bishop acknowledged at Rome. Most of the lapsed, who had adhered to him in the hope of gaining easy readmission in a body to the church, were shocked at the establishment of a formal schism, and sued for reconciliation on Cyprian’s terms; after which we hear nothing further of Felicissimus.

The great plague which has been already mentioned drew forth a signal display of Cyprian’s charity and practical energy, and of those fruits of Christian zeal and love, which, wherever they appeared, were found perhaps the most effective popular evidence in behalf of the faith which prompted them. While the heathen population of Carthage left their sick untended, and cast out the bodies of the dead into the streets—while all seemed to be hardened in selfishness, and wretches even invaded the houses of the dying for the purpose of plunder—and while the multitude reviled the Christians as having drawn down the visitation by their impiety towards the gods—Cyprian called his flock together, exhorted them by precepts and examples from Scripture, and appointed to each his special work. The rich gave their money and the poor gave their labour towards the common object; the dead bodies which tainted the air were buried; and the sick, whether Christian or pagan, were nursed at the expense and by the care of the Christians.

A fresh controversy soon arose to engage the attention of Cyprian. Cornelius died or was martyred in September, 252; and, after the Roman see had been held for less than eight months by Lucius, Stephen was chosen to fill it. Stephen, a man of violent and arrogant character, speedily embroiled himself with some Asiatic bishops on a question as to the manner of admitting converts from heresy and schism into the church. The question was one which had not practically occurred in the apostolic age; and, having been consequently left open by Scripture, it had been variously determined by different churches. At Rome, proselytes were admitted by imposition of hands; in Asia, rebaptism had been practised; and for each method apostolical authority was pretended —in other words, each could plead immemorial local usage. Synods held at Iconium and at Synnada, apparently in the reign of Alexander Severus, had established the rule of rebaptism throughout most churches of Asia Minor. In Africa the same practice had been sanctioned by a synod held under Agrippinus, bishop of Carthage, early in the third century; but—chiefly perhaps because conversions from sectarianism were rare—it seems to have fallen into disuse in the interval between Agrippinus and Cyprian.

The origin of the disagreement between Stephen and the Asiatics is unknown, but it may possibly have been that some orientals, residing at Rome, wished to introduce there the practice of their native churches. Neither is it exactly known what Stephen’s own opinion was; whether his words—that converts “from whatsoever heresy” should be received by imposition of hands— are to be understood absolutely, or whether (as seems more probable) they ought to be interpreted with limitations agreeable to the church’s later judgments. It seems, however, to be certain that he was engaged in controversy with the Asiatics before the difference with Cyprian arose. He wrote to them on the subject of their practice, and they refused to abandon it.

Cyprian was drawn into the controversy by a question of some Numidian and Mauritanian bishops, who had probably been led to suspect the propriety of rebaptism by seeing that the Novatianists used it in the case of proselytes from the church. He replied that converts must be baptized, unless they had received the regular baptism of the church before falling into heresy or schism, in which case imposition of hands would suffice. He argued that there could be only one church, one faith, one baptism; that, as at baptism itself there is required a profession of belief in “life everlasting, and the forgiveness of sins through the holy church”, there can be no forgiveness unless within the church; that the water cannot be sanctified unto cleansing by one who is himself unclean; and—since the claim of prescription could not be advanced for this view in Africa, as it was in the east—he maintained that reason ought to prevail over custom. The principle of rebaptism was affirmed by three Carthaginian councils, the last of which was held in September, 256; but, although they disclaimed all intention of laying down a rule for other churches, Stephen took violent offence at their proceedings; he refused to see the envoys who had been sent to him after the second council,1 charged his flock to withhold all hospitality from them, denounced Cyprian in outrageous language, as a “false Christ, false apostle, and deceitful worker”, and broke off communion with the Africans, as he had before done with the Asiatics. Such a proceeding, however, on the part of a bishop of Rome in the third century, did not, like the excommunications of popes in later times, imply a claim of authority to separate from the body of Christ, or to deprive of the means of grace; it was merely an exercise of the power which every bishop had to suspend religious intercourse with communities or persons whom he supposed to be in error.

Finding himself thus cut off from communion with the great church of the west, Cyprian resolved to open a correspondence with the Asiatics who were in the same condition. He therefore sent a letter with a report of his proceedings to Firmilian, bishop of Caesarea, in Cappadocia (who has already been mentioned as a friend of Origen). Firmilian in his answer deals very freely with Stephen’s character and conduct—so much so, that the first editors to whom the epistle became known suppressed it on account of its bearing against the later pretensions of Rome, and that other Romanists have since justified the suppression, and have regretted that, through the imprudent candour of less politic editors, such a document had been allowed to see the lights.

The sequel is not distinctly recorded. The death of Stephen, early in the year 257 contributed towards a peaceful settlement of the dispute. Dionysius of Alexandria, whose own opinions probably inclined to the Roman view, exerted himself as a mediator by writing both to Stephen and to his successor, Xystus or Sixtus; and from the terms in which Cyprian's contemporary biographer speaks of Xystus, as a “good and peacemaking priest”, it is inferred that the controversy was laid to rest for the time by an understanding that every church should be left to its own judgment. The question of rebaptism was afterwards decided against Cyprian's views, and also against the extreme opinion on the opposite side, by the eighth canon of the council of Aries, which ordered that, if the schismatical baptism had been administered in the name of the Trinity, converts should be admitted to the church by imposition of hands.

When the persecution under Valerian reached Africa, A.D. 257, Cyprian was carried before the proconsul, Paternus. In answer to interrogations, he avowed himself a Christian and a bishop; he added that Christians served only one God, and that they prayed daily for themselves, for all mankind, and for the safety of the emperors. On being questioned as to the names of his clergy, he said that the laws of the state condemned informers; that ecclesiastical discipline forbade the clergy to offer themselves for punishment; but that, if sought for, they might be found in their places. As he steadfastly refused to sacrifice, he was banished to Curubis, a town about forty miles from Carthage, which his deacon Pontius, who accompanied him, describes as a pleasant abode. On the night after his arrival there, a vision announced to him that he was to be put to death next day; the event, however, proved that the delay of a day was to be interpreted as signifying a year. The bishop’s residence at Curubis was cheered by frequent visits from his friends. By the means which were at his disposal, he was enabled to send relief to many of his brethren who had been carried away to labour in the mines of Mauritania and Numidia, and were treated with great barbarity; and with these and other confessors he exchanged letters of sympathy and encouragements

On the arrival of a new proconsul, Galerius, Cyprian was recalled from banishment, and was ordered to remain at his gardens near Carthage. Valerian’s second and more severe edict had now been issued, and the bishop was resolved to endure for his faith the worst that man could inflict on him. Fearing, however, during a temporary absence of the proconsul at Utica, lest he should be carried to that city, instead of being sacrificed in the sight of his own people, he concealed himself for a time; but, on the return of Galerius to Carthage, he reappeared at his gardens, and withstood all the entreaties of his friends, who urged him to save himself by flight. On the 13th of September 258, he was carried to a place where the proconsul was staying for the recovery of his health, about four miles from Carthage. Here the bishop was treated with great respect, and was allowed to enjoy the society of his friends at supper, while the streets around the proconsular house, in which he was lodged, were thronged by Christians anxious for their pastor’s safety. These had flocked from the capital on the news of his arrest; many of them spent the night in the open air, and a vast multitude crowded the place of judgment when on the following day—the anniversary of the death of Cornelius of Rome —Cyprian was led forth for trial. As he arrived, heated with the walk from the proconsul’s house, a soldier of the guard, who had formerly been a Christian, offered him some change of dress; but he declined the offer, saying that it was useless to remedy evils which would probably forthwith come to an end. On being required by the proconsul, in the name of the emperors, to offer sacrifice, Cyprian answered by a refusal. The magistrate desired him to consider his safety. “Do as thou art commanded”, was the reply; “in so righteous a cause, there is no room for consideration”. It was with reluctance and difficulty that Galerius, after a short consultation with his advisers, pronounced the inevitable sentence,—that Thascius Cyprian, as having long been a ringleader in impiety against the gods of Rome, and having resisted the attempts made by the emperors to reclaim him, should be beheaded with the sword, in punishment of his offences, and as a warning to his followers. The bishop received his doom with an expression of thankfulness to God; and a cry arose from the Christians who were present, “Let us go and be beheaded with him!”. Cyprian was without delay conducted to the scene of execution—a level space surrounded by thick trees, the branches of which were soon filled by members of his flock, who eagerly climbed up, “like Zacchaeus”, that they might witness their bishop’s triumph over death. After having knelt for a short time in prayer, he bound his eyes with his own hands, and, having directed that a present should be given to the executioner, submitted himself to the sword. His body was deposited in a neighbouring spot, “because of the curiosity of the heathen”; but was afterwards removed by torchlight with great solemnity, and laid in an honourable sepulchre; while his blood, which had been carefully caught in cloths and handkerchiefs as it fell, was treasured up as a precious relic.

It is said that Cyprian daily read some portion of Tertullian’s works, and that he was accustomed to ask for the book by saying to his secretary, “Give me my master”. The influence of his great countryman on his mind is abundantly evident in his writings; perhaps Tertullian’s Montanism may have shared, as well as the African temperament, in producing Cyprian’s tendency to a belief in frequent supernatural visitations. But if Cyprian was inferior to the earlier writer in originality and genius, he was free from his exaggeration and irregularity, and possessed talents for practical life of which Tertullian gives no indication. The master was carried into schism; the scholar’s great and ruling idea was that of unity in the visible church, and it was on this that his controversies turned. In his treatise on the subject he ransacks Scripture for types and arguments; he concludes that “he who has not the church for his mother, cannot have God for his Father”; that the church is as the ark of Noah, without which there was no deliverance from destruction; that for those who are separate from the visible church neither miracles nor martyrdom can avail as evidences of faith or as grounds of hope.

While we may agree in his principles generally, it can hardly be doubted that he carries them out with a reasoning too precise for the nature of the subject; that he does not sufficiently consider the share which the character and circumstances of each individual, as well as his outward position or profession, have in determining his state before God; or the indications afforded by Scripture, that, besides the main broad system of the Divine government, there is also with the Almighty a merciful regard to exceptions and peculiarities,—a regard of which man indeed may not presume to forestall the effect, but which we are yet bound reverently, charitably, and thankfully to keep in mind.

It would, however, be an utter misunderstanding of Cyprian to suppose that in his views of unity he was influenced either by want of charity towards those whose schism he condemned, or by a wish to secure for himself, as bishop, a tyrannical domination over the minds of men. It was the tendency of the age to elevate the episcopate, as a power conducive to strength, to union, regularity, and peace; but if Cyprian bore a part in promoting the exaltation of his order, it was the natural effect of his great character, not the object or the result of his ambition. Now that Christianity had long been professed by multitudes as a religion derived by inheritance, not embraced from special conviction—now that time and freedom from persecution had produced a general deterioration in the community, so that the bishop could not reckon on unanimous support in his measures for the regulation of the church—it was necessary for the public good that he should sometimes act by his own authority in a greater degree than the bishops of earlier times. Yet Cyprian was far from any attempt at establishing an autocracy; it was his practice, as well as his desire, to take no important step except in conjunction with his clergy and his people.

On the other hand, the unity which Cyprian contemplated was utterly unlike that of later Rome. In his dealings with the Roman bishops he appears on terms of perfect equality with them. He writes to them and of them as merely his “brethren and colleagues”. Far from acknowledging a superiority in them, he remonstrates with Cornelius for lowering the dignity common to all members of the episcopate. He admonishes Stephen when negligent of his duty in one case; he declares his judgment null, and sets it aside, in another; he treats the idea of a “bishop of bishops” as monstrous—far as Stephen'’ understanding of such a title fell short of the more recent Roman pretensions. Even supposing all the passages in which he magnifies the Roman church to be genuine—(and where words of this sort are wanting in some manuscripts there is an almost certain presumption against them, inasmuch as in the times to which the manuscripts belong there was no temptation to omit, but a strong inducement to insert such words)—still the dignity which he assigns to that church, to its supposed apostolic founder and his successors, is only that of precedence among equals; it is rather purely symbolical than in any way practical. He regards St. Peter as the type of apostleship, and the Roman church as the representative of unity; he interprets the promise of “the keys of the kingdom of heaven” as given to the apostle for the whole episcopal order; his language and his actions are alike inconsistent with any idea of subjection to Rome as a higher authority entitled to interfere with other churches or to overrule their determinations.

 

CHAPTER VII.

FROM THE ACCESSION OF GALLIENUS TO THE GRANT OF TOLERATION BY CONSTANTINE. A.D. 261-313.