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 clamour 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 entreaties 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 labours 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.