15-CHAPTER 15. CAUSE AND EXTENT OF PERSECUTION.

CHAPTER 15. CAUSE AND EXTENT OF PERSECUTION.

WE have now determined the main facts in regard to the action of the State towards the Christians before A.D. 170. We have next to inquire into the reason why the Empire proscribed this sect. The question is presented to us as a paradox: the Empire being remarkably tolerant, as a general rule, in religious matters, what reason was there for the persecution of this religion?

1. POPULAR HATRED OF THE CHRISTIANS.

There can be no doubt that the dislike generally entertained towards the Christians was an element in determining the attitude of the Emperors and their delegates towards them. The governors, and even the Emperors to a less degree, acted in some cases simply to conciliate the populace, and keep it in good humour. The action of Nero was, as we have seen, turned against the Christians through his wish to supplant one passion by another in the popular mind. Having private reasons for seeking to divert the populace, he tortured for their amusement a class of persons whom they hated.

We have found reason to think that at first Christianity was received in Asia Minor, and perhaps in the West generally, without any detestation, and even with considerable favour. The growth of the opposite feeling was due to various social causes, among which probably the strongest were (1) loss incurred by tradesmen whose business was interfered with by the habits which Christianity inculcated; (2) annoyance caused in pagan families by the conversion of individual members. In the latter case it is clear that the anger felt by the pagan members of any family would, as a rule, be proportionate to the degree of affection that had existed before the family was disunited. The stronger the love that had held together the family, the stronger the hatred that would be felt against those who had introduced discord into it.

Spurred on by such causes, private individuals tried to revenge themselves on those whom they considered to have injured them, whether by riotous and illegal action ( Acts 14:19-Acts 17:5, Acts 19:23 ff.), by action before the magistrates of provincial cities, who were not empowered to inflict severe penalties ( Acts 16:19), or by moving the Roman law ( Acts 19:38).

Various methods of prosecution before ordinary tribunals might be, and frequently were, employed by individuals who felt themselves aggrieved. Some of these have been already referred to (p. 250 f.). Riotous conduct, disturbance of the public peace, sedition, and sacrilege, were charges that readily suggested themselves ( Acts 19:37), and might be tried with good hopes of
success; but a purely religious charge was derided by the Roman officials ( Acts 18:15-17). [St. Paul’s experience in Corinth of the favour of the Roman courts as a defence against the Jews seems to have produced a powerful effect on his thought and teaching. This event divides the two letters to the Thessalonians by a deep chasm from the group of Galatians, Corinthians, Romans. There is a remarkable change of feeling as we pass from one group to the other. ] We have seen that charges of breaking up the peace of family life formed the subject of anxious consideration and advice both to St. Paul and to St. Peter (See pp. 246, 281); and we cannot doubt that such charges had often been carried into court. The father or husband or master dealt in private with the
individual members of his family; [Tacitus,Annals, xiii., 32. Pomponia was judged by her husband prisco instituto, A.D. 58.] but he must go before the courts in order to punish the person who had tampered with their beliefs and habits. In such actions probably the accusation of unjustifiable interference with the sphere of duties and rights belonging to another, [The Latin term, alienum speculari, and the noun, alieni speculator, suggested the extraordinary Greek renderingἀλλοτριεπίσκοπος,1 Peter 4:15, which is quite unintelligible, except as a rough attempt to translate a foreign term that had no recognised equivalent in Greek (see p. 293n).]though not recognised as a criminal category, would be useful to excite odium and bad feeling, a practice in which extreme licence was conceded to pleaders in Roman courts. The persecution of Nero made the situation of the Christians distinctly worse, without altering its general character. The Emperor’s action in allowing certain charges, moral, rather than criminal, to be urged against Christians, constituted a precedent, and exercised a strong influence on all provincial governors in judging such cases; but still the same method remained in practice, and the
governors in Asia Minor still stood as judges between the Christian and his accuser; "for praise to them that do well " (1 Peter 2:15). Christians suffered by being convicted as criminals, and not as Christians; defence lay in a life above suspicion (1 Peter 4:15).

It is not true that mere social annoyances could have had a serious character, until, through Nero’s example, they were abetted and completed by action on the part of the Roman administration; and it is regrettable that several excellent authorities have countenanced this unhistorical view. [Weiss’ commentary on 1 Peter (die katholischen Briefe, Leipzig, 1892), whatever be its merits in a textual or theological view, is a distinct retrogression from Holtzmann and other critics when regarded as a historical investigation. On Spitta, see p.300.]It is true that James implies persecution
of a more serious character, as taking place before the Neronian policy had come into force; but James wrote to Jews, who were not governed solely by Roman law, but who, down to A.D. 70, administered justice to a certain extent among themselves, according to their own sacred law, even in Roman cities of the Eastern provinces. Of course the most serious penalties, and especially death, were beyond the independent Jewish jurisdiction; but still much suffering could be legally inflicted by Jews on other Jews, unless the victims possessed the Roman citizenship. Hence the situation of Jewish Christians before A.D. 64 was much more serious than that of Gentile Christians; but after that year official Roman action could be invoked with confident expectation of success against both classes, and after A.D. 70 the self-governing privileges of the Jews were entirely withdrawn.

Experiences of the kind described, though annoying in themselves, could never have been a serious evil or danger to the Christians; and the Apologists of the second century argue in favour of the restoration of this procedure (Justin, i., 3; Tatian, 4, etc.), claiming a fair statement of charges against each Christian, an open trial, and liberty of defence against the accusation. While this kind of persecution alone was available against them, the Christians had fair treatment and toleration from the Roman officials, and on the whole looked to them for protection. Paul himself suffered personally a good deal of hard treatment; but he is an exceptional case. A poor Jewish stranger, almost a beggar, whose language in public had led to much disorder among the Jews, and who was exposed to the enmity of rich and influential Jews, must not be taken as a fair instance of what known citizens would suffer in their own land.

It was not merely the populace who felt this dislike to the Christians; the governors of provinces, the officials of every class, the Emperors themselves, shared it. Even such a humane spirit as Pliny was so shocked by the demeanour of the Christians on their trial that he mentioned it to Trajan, as in itself a sufficient reason for condemnation. The Greeks were difficult enough to
deal with. Cicero speaks of their perverse humour, with which all Romans who had dealings with them must reckon; [Perversitas,Fam III., i., 4. Every Turkish governor would give the same account now. Greeks under his power make his life a burden to him.]and every proconsul of Asia could tell many a tale of the unreasonable ways of the Greeks in the coast cities. But the Roman governors found the Christians much more difficult to manage than the Greeks.

Popular feeling, therefore, was strongly on the side of persecution; and there can be no doubt that the reason for the severity of Marcus Aurelius lay in the dislike which he shared with the educated and uneducated classes alike. Void of insight into social questions, and raised above enthusiasm by philosophy, Marcus honestly carried out against the Christians the principles in which he believed.

It would be a mistake to look for the reason of the antipathy towards the Christians in their disobedience to any single law. The Christians were so diametrically opposed to the general tendencies of the Government and of the ancient social system, they violated in such an unshrinking, unfeeling, uncompromising way the principles which society and philosophy set most store by, that to prosecute them under any one law, or to think of them as ordinary criminals guilty on one single count, was to minimise their offence in an apparently absurd degree. It was true that a Christian was guilty of treason against the Emperor, and as such deserved death; but to put his crime on that footing was to class him with many noble and high-minded Romans, who had been condemned for the same offence. It was true that he practised a foreign and degrading superstition; and that he induced many Roman citizens to desert their patriotic loyalty to the religion of their country and their fathers, and to go astray after a fantastic and exaggerated devotion; but the worshippers of Isis and of Sabazios did something of the same kind, and the fashion was to treat this offence with contemptuous toleration. It was true that Christians cut themselves off from all Greek culture, from everything that was good and noble; that they broke up family ties, and set brother against brother; that their words, thoughts, and acts were alike void of good result for society; that they stood aloof from the pleasures, the religion, and the duties of educated or loyal citizens; held no official position; comforted none who were in sorrow; healed no dissensions; gave no good counsel; made poverty and beggary into virtues; practised robbery under the guise of equality,
and shameless vice under the cloak of rigid virtue; made evil into good, and reckoned ugliness as beauty; laid claim to be the true philosophers; and spoke villainous Greek. But, as the very man who paints this picture implies, so did the Cynics; [Aristides,ὑπέρ τω + ̑ν τεττάρων, vol. ii., p. 400 f. (Dind.) So unsuitable do some of the traits appear to Lightfoot, that he refuses to accept it as a picture of the Christians, and declares that the Cynics were the model for Aristides to paint from (Ignat., i., p. 533). But I cannot separate the picture wholly from the Christians, nor believe that the Cynics alone could have aroused the deep-seated hatred which is here expressed. They were not sufficiently powerful to cause fear; and only an enemy which is also feared can rouse such intense hatred. The Cynics and the Christians were united in the mind of Aristides and his compeers as two members of one class, differing in some respects, but, on the whole, of the same type,
and this picture gives the features common to the class. The Greek philosophers objected to the cosmopolitan spirit and superiority to the narrow Greek state, which characterised both Cynics and Christians. Neumann, pp. 35- 6,has caught excellently the spirit of this passage, following a fragment of Bernays,Gesammelte Abhandl., ii., p. 362, which seems to imply a change from the view expressed inLucian und die Kyniker. In that work Bernays considered the description to be intended for the Cynics alone.] yet the Cynics were merely satirised and ridiculed. The combination of so many and various faults, combined with the power given them by their close union, and the fear which mingled with and embittered the general hatred, rendered them pre-eminently the object of popular fury; it seemed absurd to apply to such people any ordinary judicial process. Hence the Flavian proscription, which treated them like brigands, met with
general approval. One cry alone was adequate to the case--Christianos ad leones. If they gave only annoyance to the world during their life, let them at least afford society some compensation by amusing it at their death.

Some of the traits in the picture drawn by Aristides partake (to put it mildly) of exaggeration and prejudice; but if we wish to understand this question we must approach the subject from the point of view of the Empire, and of the educated classes of pagan society, and try to realise their views. We must, for the moment, assume the attitude of those who found the fabric of society assailed
by the Christians with a bitter undistinguishing hostility and contempt, which the student of classical antiquity must feel to have been not wholly deserved. But action that consists only in occasionally yielding to pressure from popular passions does not constitute a policy. We have seen that a permanent proscription of the Name of Christian was implied in Pliny’s first action; and it is impossible to suppose that the permanent policy of such a government as the Roman was determined by mere feelings of personal and popular dislike. We cannot suppose that these passions weighed with Trajan, when he reaffirmed the general principle of proscription. Hadrian and Pius expressly forbade that popular clamour should weigh against a Christian; but they both left the general principle in force. The direct and strong antagonism against the State which rules in Apocalypse and Ignatius cannot be thus explained. We must look deeper for the real ground of the Imperial action, which, as we have seen, was probably determined about 75-80 A.D.

2. REAL CAUSES OF STATE PERSECUTION. The success of the Imperial Government in the provinces rested greatly on its power of accommodating itself to the ways and manners and religion of the subjects; it accepted and found a place in its system for all gods and all cults. Religious intolerance was opposed to the fundamental principles of the Imperial rule, and few traces of it can be discerned. It proscribed the Christians, and it proscribed the Druids. In these two cases there must have seemed to the Imperial Government to be some characteristic which required exceptional treatment. In both cases there was present the same dangerous principle: both maintained an extra-Imperial unity, and were proscribed on political, [Mommsen says (Provinces, i., p. 105) "the institution of the
Gallic annual festival in the purely Roman capital . . . was evidently a countermove of the Government against the old religion of the country, with its annual council of priests at Chartres, the centre of the Gallic land." See also Duruy inRevue Archéologigue, April 1880, p. 248 (347).]not on religious, grounds. On the other hand, the Jews must have appeared to the Government to resemble the Christians very closely. Almost every trait in the picture drawn by Aristides applies to them, and they also were the object of general hatred. But so far from yielding to the popular feeling in this case, the Imperial policy protected the Jews on many occasions from the popular dislike.

If the Jews appeared to the Empire to resemble the Christians so much, and yet were treated so differently, the reason for the difference in treatment must have lain in those points in which the Christians differed from the Jews in the estimate of the Imperial Government. [Tacitus, indeed, says (Hist., v., 5) that the Jewish ritesantiquitate defenduntur; but he is not here professing to explain formally why the Empire favoured the Jews. The distinction in this point of antiquity between Judaism and Christianity had more weight in philosophy than in government.] In so
far the Jews were merely a body professing a different religion; the Emperors allowed them the completest toleration. But so long as the Jews maintained an articulated organisation, centred in the Temple at Jerusalem, they maintained a unity distinct from that of the Empire; and this fact was brought home to the Emperors by the great rebellion of 65-70. The Flavian policy (see p. 254)
made a distinction between the Jewish religion and the Jewish organised unity; the former was protected, but the latter was proscribed. Titus conceived that the destruction of the temple would destroy the unity centred in it; and he substituted the temple of Jupiter for the temple at Jerusalem, collecting for the former the tax hitherto contributed by the Jews for the latter. With the Jews it was found possible to separate their religion from their organisation. The destruction of the temple, indeed, had to be completed under Hadrian by the destruction of Jerusalem, and the foundation of a new Roman city there. But, to a great extent after 70, and completely after 134, the Jews accepted the situation assigned them by the State--religious toleration on con-
dition of acquiescence in the unity of the Empire.

Titus at first entertained the belief that the Christians also had their centre in the temple, and that their unity would perish with it (p. 254). But soon the Flavian Government recognised that their united organisation was no whit weakened by the destruction of the temple. The Christians still continued, no less than before, to maintain a unity independent of, and contrary to, the Imperial unity, and to consolidate steadily a wide-reaching organisation. Such an organisation was contrary to the fundamental principle of Roman government. Rome had throughout its career made it a fixed principle to rule by dividing; all subjects must look to Rome alone; none might look towards their neighbours, or enter into any agreement or connection with them. But the Christians looked to a non-Roman unity; they decided on common action independent of Rome; they looked on themselves as Christians first, and Roman subjects afterwards; and, when Rome refused to accept this secondary allegiance, they ceased to feel themselves Roman subjects at all. When this was the case, it seems idle to look about for reasons why Rome should proscribe the Christians. If it was true to itself, it must compel obedience; and to do so meant death to all firm Christians. In the past the success of the Roman Government had been greatly due to the rigour with which it suppressed all organisations; and the Church was a living embodiment of the tendency which hitherto Rome had succeeded in crushing. Either Rome must now compel obedience, or it must acknowledge that the Christian unity was stronger than the Empire. This disobedience to the principles of Roman administration is only one form of that spirit of insubordination and obstinacy, which is so often attributed to the Christians by the ancient writers, and which seemed to Pliny to justify their condemnation. In his note on the passage ( Pliny, ad Traj., 96), Mr. Hardy rightly remarks that "the feature of Christianity which Pliny here points out as a sufficient reason [I have made one slight, but significant, change, substituting a sufficient reason" for "his personal reason." Compare note on p. 254 ; alsoexcursus, p. 374] for punishing them, was exactly the point which, as Christianity grew, made it seem politically dangerous to the authority of the Empire, and which, more than religious intolerance, was at the root of later persecutions." We ask why it should be left for Pliny to make the discovery that the Christian principles were dangerous. He was not the first governor of a province in which Christians were
numerous. He was not the character to display special insight into the probable political outcome of new principles, or to be specially jealous of the authority of the Empire. He was not a practised administrator. He had never before held a province. He had been a skilful financier and good lawyer, whose entire official life had been spent in Rome with the single exception of the necessary
months of military service as a tribune, and even this term he had spent in managing the accounts of the legion. He had been selected for this government because the finances of the cities were in a bad state, and a trustworthy and hardworking officer and good financier was needed to administer the province. It is not too much to say that, if Pliny perceived forthwith the disobedience that was inherent in the new religion, every governor of any Asiatic province, every Emperor of Rome, and every prefect of the city, must have made the same discovery for himself long before 112. The cause here suggested, obvious as it appears, has been ridiculed as impossible by Aubé, who thinks it inconceivable that Nero should already have begun to suspect that the growth of the organised Christian religion might prove dangerous to the Empire. It is difficult to reply to such an argument. For my own part, I can see nothing improbable even in this supposition, and still less in the theory that the Flavian Emperors considered Christianity to involve a dangerous principle. I should only be surprised if the watchful Roman administration had failed to recognise at a very early moment that the principles of the new sect were opposed to its policy. Trajan refused to permit an organisation of 150 firemen in Nicomedeia, or to allow a few poor people to improve their fare by dining in company, on the express ground that such organisations involved political danger. The Christians so managed their organisation as to elude the law prohibiting sodalitates; [The discontinuance of Agapæ (see p. 215) for this reason in Bithynia may safely be taken as a type of the action of other Christians in this respect.] but they could not elude the notice of the Emperors.

How can we understand the marvellous power which the Empire showed of Romanising the provinces, except on the supposition that it showed great practical ability in dealing with the various views and principles of different peoples? and how is such practical ability to be explained, except on the supposition that the Imperial Government was keenly alive to the character and probable
effect of any such system? The Emperors were aiming at a great end; they pursued it with all the experience and wisdom of Roman law and Roman organisation; and they punished rigorously those who impeded their action. The principle of government just described is connected with, but still must be distinguished from, the restrictions imposed on the formation of collegia and sodalitates. The same jealousy on the part of the Government and the same distrust of the loyalty of the people underlies both. While Rome was a republic, all citizens had the right of forming associations at will; but as soon as the Empire began, it distrusted such associations, and Julius restricted them within the narrowest limits; [Benefit clubs among poor people, associations for mutual assistance, alone were permitted; and these were allowed to meet only once a month for any purpose beyond religious ritual, which was of course unimpeded. The commonest kind of these clubs were Burial Societies; but it would be a mistake to suppose that these were the only examples of their class. The use of the termcollegia funeraticia(a purely modern name) has sometimes led to the false idea that these alone were permitted. They werecollegia tenuiorum.] for the Roman Government now considered the Roman people as a danger to be guarded against. The old rule of prohibiting all attempts at union among the subject populations, appears under the Empire mainly under the form of prohibiting collegia and sodalitates; but it was really of much wider scope, and this prohibition was only one special application of a general principle. This jealous principle of Roman administration was fatal to all vigorous life and political education among the subject peoples. It was an inheritance from the old narrow Roman system, which regarded the subject peoples merely as conducive to the benefit of Rome. The true interest of the Empire lay in abandoning this narrow and jealous spirit, and training the provincials to higher conceptions of political duty than mere obedience to the laws and the magistrates. Only in this way could it carry out its mission of creating a great unified state, characterised by universal citizenship and patriotism (see p. 192n.). Here, as in many other cases, the Church carried out the ideas and forms towards which the Empire was tending, but which it could nt realise without the aid of Christianity.

Political and religious facts were in ancient time far more closely connected than they are now. It was under the protection of religion that law, social rules, and politics, gradually developed. Before they had strength to exist apart, they maintained themselves as religious principles, enforced by religious sanctions and terrors. Thus the right of free general intercourse and free union among all subjects of the Empire, had for a long time no existence except as a religious fact. The strength of the Imperial Government lay in its recognising, more fully than any administration before or since has done, the duty of maintaining a tolerable standard of comfort among the poorer classes of citizens. But while it showed great zeal as regards their physical comfort, it was less attentive to the other duty of educating them. The education imparted on a definite plan by the State did not go beyond a regular series of amusements, some of a rather brutalising tendency. Christianity came in to the help of the Imperial Government, urging the duty of educating, as well as feeding and amusing, the mass of the population. The theory of universal education for the people has never been more boldly and thoroughly stated than by Tatian (see p. 345). The weak side of the Empire--the cause of the ruin of the first Empire--was the moral deterioration of the lower classes: Christianity, if adopted in time, might have prevented this result.

3. ORGANISATION OF THE CHURCH. The administrative forms in which the Church gradually came to be organised were determined by the state of society and the spirit of the age. In the conflict with the civil Government these forms were, in a sense, forced on it; but it would be an error to suppose that they were forced on it in mere self-defence against a powerful enemy. They were accepted actively, not passively. The Church gradually became conscious of the real character of the task which it had undertaken. It came gradually to realise that it was a world-wide institution, and must organise a world-wide system of administration. It grew as a vigorous and healthy organism, which worked out its own purposes, and maintained itself against the disintegrating influence of surrounding forces; but the line of its growth was determined by its environment. [As I cannot hope to hit the passionless scientific truth in a subject so difficult as the present, or to avoid conflicting with widely felt emotions, where such deep and such opposite feelings are entertained, I shall simply indicate, in as unemotional and external way as I can, the view that seems best to explain the attitude of the State to the Christians. The Church is here treated not as a religious body, but as a practical organisation for social duties and needs, and as brought in contact with the State.] The analogy between the Church and the State organisations is close and real. But it would be a mistake to attribute it to conscious imitation, or even to seek in Roman institutions the origin of Church institutions that resemble them. The Christians would have indignantly rejected all idea of such imitation.

Hermas states ( Vis., ii., 4, 1) the view held by the early Church as to its own origin. The Church appears as an old woman," because she was created first of all, and for her sake was the world made." The Church was to Hermas a well-articulated organism, and not a collection of individual Christians with no bond of union beyond certain common rites and beliefs; yet its organisation was not constructed by the early Christians, but was a preexisting, Divinely created idea, independent of the existence of actual Christians to embody it in the world. But all the more surely and truly were the Christians under the influence of Roman administrative forms and ideas, that they were entirely unconscious of the fact The secret of the extraordinary power exerted by the Roman Government in the provinces lay in the subtle way in which the skilful administrative devices, shown by it for the first time to the provinces, filled and dominated the minds of the provincials. After the Roman system was known, its influence took possession of the public mind, and is apparent both in every new foundation for administrative purposes, and even in the gradual modification of the previously existing organisations. Those institutions of the Church which belonged to its Jewish origin steadily became more and more Roman in character. Roman ideas were in the air, and, had the Church not been influenced by them, it would have been neither vigorous nor progressive. After all, Hermas’ view and the one here stated differ little from each other. We are trying to express the same fact; but in these pages the Divine is treated as a development, whereas to Hermas it was immutable and eternal, like a Platonic idea.

Like the Empire, the Church fully recognised the duty of the community to see that all its members were fed; and this was one of the earliest forms in which the question of practical organisation began to press on it ( Acts vi.). Further organisation was required when many communities existed in different lands, all considering themselves as a brotherhood. Such separation involved, in the course of natural growth, the development of differences of custom and opinion in details; and in life details are often of more apparent value than principles. Questions arise in the relation of community with community. If these are not settled with judgment and skill permanent differences spring up. In the actual development of a Church scattered wide over the world, the officials whose duty it was to guide the communications between the communities necessarily played a decisive part in framing the organisation through which the brotherhood developed into the Church. As it was completed in its main elements by A.D. 170, the organisation of the Church may be described thus :

In this completed organisation the bishops were established as the ruling heads of the several parts, divided in space but not in idea, which constituted the Church in the Roman world. The history of this organisation is, to a great extent, the history of the episcopal power. The bishops soon became the directors of the Church as a party struggling against the Government. I should gladly
have avoided this peculiarly difficult part of the subject, but it is not possible to discuss the relations of Church and State without showing the nature of these typical officers in the proscribed organisation. The view which I take is, that the central idea in the development of the episcopal office lay in the duty of each community to maintain communication with other communities. The officials who performed this duty became the guardians of unity. They acquired importance first in the universal Church; and thereafter, partly in virtue of this extra-congregational position, partly through other causes, they became the heads of the individual communities.

Such a vast organisation of a perfectly new kind, with no analogy in previously existing institutions, was naturally slow in development. We regard the ideas underlying it as originating with Paul. The first step was taken when he crossed Taurus; the next more conscious step was the result of the trial in Corinth, after which his thought developed from the stage of Thessalonians to that of Galatians, Corinthians, and Romans. The critical stage was passed when the destruction of Jerusalem annihilated all possibility of a localised centre for Christianity, and made it clear that the centralisation of the Church could reside only in an idea-viz., a process of intercommunication, union, and brotherhood (p. 288).

It would be hardly possible to exaggerate the share which frequent intercourse from a very early stage between the separate congregations had in moulding the development of the Church. Most of the documents in the New Testament are products and monuments of this intercourse; all attest in numberless details the vivid interest which the scattered communities took in one another. From the first the Christian idea was to annihilate the separation due to space, and hold the most distant brother as near as the nearest. Clear consciousness of the importance of this idea first appears in the Pastoral Epistles, [Its prominence in them is one of the many characteristics which distinguish them from the older Epistles, and which would make us gladly date these Epistles ten or twelve years after A.D. 67 (later they cannot be, on account of the undeveloped type of persecution which appears in them). But it does not appear worth while to sacrifice the tradition, and the claim they make to be the work of Paul, for the sake of a few years. We must accept the difficulty involved in their developed character. There is no person who is so likely to have originated these ideas as Paul, in the intense activity of his later years, A.D. 64-67.] and is still stronger in writings of A.D. 80-100, as I Peter and Clement. In these works of the first century the idea is expressed in a simpler form than in writings of the second century, where it has a stereotyped and conventionalised character, with a developed and regulated appearance. The close relations between different congregations is brought into strong relief by the circumstances disclosed in the letters of Ignatius: the welcome extended everywhere to him; the loving messages sent when he was writing to other churches ( Rom. ix.); the deputations sent from churches off his road to meet him and convoy him ( Rom. ix., etc.); the rapidity with which news of his progress was sent round, so that deputations from Ephesus, Magnesia, and Tralles were ready to visit him in Smyrna; the news from Antioch which reached him in Troas, but which was unknown to him in Smyrna; the directions which he gave to call a council of the church in Smyrna, and send a messenger [Smyrn., II; Philad., 10; Polyc., 7. He is called θεοπρεσβεύτης, θεοδρόμος ] to congratulate the church in Antioch; the knowledge that his fate is known to and is engaging the efforts of the church in Rome. Such details in the letters and in other authorities presuppose regular intercommunication and union of the closest kind along the great routes across the Empire. Lucian was familiar with this intercourse among the Christians; and his language about it implies that it seemed to him the crowning proof of the detestable and perverted energy of the sect. [De Morte Peregrini, 12 and 41. ]Lightfoot has correctly emphasised this class of facts, but he does not sufficiently bring out they were the regular and characteristic practice of the Christians; hence he quotes the passages of Lucian as proof that Lucian was acquainted with the story of Ignatius. But Lucian might have gained his knowledge from many other similar incidents as well as from the story of Ignatius; and the only safe inference from his words is, that the picture of life given in the letters of Ignatius is true. This close connection could not be maintained by mere unregulated voluntary efforts; organised action alone was able to keep it up. The early system of government by the presiding Council of Elders was slowly developed to cope with the pressing need; and the episcopal organisation was thus gradually elaborated. The word episkopos means overseer. Originally, when the deliberative council of elders resolved to perform some action, they would naturally direct one of their number to superintend it. This presbyter was an episkopos for the occasion. Any presbyter might be also an episkopos, and the terms were therefore applied to the same persons, and yet conveyed essentially different meanings. The episkopos appointed to perform any duty was necessarily single, for the modern idea of a committee was unknown; [Bodies of 3, 5, 10, or more officers were frequent in Rome; but they were not committees. Each individual possessed the full powers of the whole body. The act of one was authoritative as the act of all; each could thwart the power of his colleagues; no idea of acting by vote of the majority existed. ]any presbyter might become an episkopos for an occasion, yet the latter term conveyed an idea of singleness and of executive authority which was wanting to the former. On the other hand, the idea of an order of episkopoi at this stage, like the order of presbyters, is self-contradictory. The episkopos was necessarily single, and yet there might be many episkopoi for distinct duties. Such appears to be the natural interpretation of the term, as it was used in ancient life.

It was natural that proved aptness and power in an individual presbyter should lead to his having executive duties frequently assigned to him. The Imperial idea was in the air; and the tried episkopos tended to become permanent, and to concentrate executive duties in his hands. The process was gradual, and no violent change took place. The authority of the episkopos was long a delegated authority, and his influence dependent mainly on personal qualities. In such a gradual process it is natural that the position of episkopoi should vary much, that the position of the same individual should be susceptible of being understood and described differently by different observers, and that the episkopos became permanent in fact before the principle of permanence was admitted. The hospitality which is assigned as a duty to the episkopos in 1 Timothy 3:1 ff., Titus 1:5 ff., was closely connected with the maintenance of external relations (see p. 288); and the composition of the letters sent by one community to another was also assigned to him. Hence a copy of the message given to Hermas was ordered to be sent to Clement, who should send it to foreign cities, for to him had been entrusted the duty (viz., of communicating with other communities); [Vis., ii., 4, 3, I cannot doubt that, to a Roman Christian of the period, Clement must mean the famous Clement. Either Hermas wrote before Clement’s death, or he intended that his book: should appear to be of that period.]while Hermas, with the presbyters who preside over the Church (among whom Clement is, as we believe, included), was to read it to the Romans. This duty was likely to be permanently assigned to the same individual, for uniformity of tone could not otherwise be secured. The scanty and unsatisfactory evidence of the first century points to the practical permanence of the episkopos as already usual, but is inconsistent with the idea that the episkopos was considered’ as separate in principle from his co-presbyters (as he continued for centuries to term them). He was only a presbyter on whom certain duties had been imposed. There was in practice one permanent episkopos in a community, when 1 Peter 2:25 was written, and when the messages were sent to the angeloi of the seven Asian Churches; but the episkopos was very far removed from the monarchical bishop of A.D. 170, and we find not a trace to suggest that he exercised any authority ex officio within the community. He represented it in certain cases: he wrote in its name; but the words purported to be spoken by the community. Letters addressed to it were sent to him; but the contents referred solely to the community, and made no allusion to the episkopos. His position was ostensibly a humble one within the community; and yet its real influence and its future possibilities must have been obvious to him that had eyes to see beneath the superficial aspect. [Such is the nature of the office as it appears in Apoc. i. 16, 20. Spitta considers that the interpretation of the stars as bishops belongs to the revision, 90-112, not to the original Christian document, 60 A.D. His arguments, p. 37f., are founded on a misapprehension of the delicate contrasts in the position of theepiskopoi. Again, when Ignatius writes to Polycarp a private letter, he, in the middle of it, begins to address the whole community, being accustomed to regard Polycarp as its representative. Ignatius does not write as bishop, but as an individual, and in his own name: the church in Antioch has now no bishop.]The importance of the episkopos would be estimated by a writer according to the degree in which his attention was occupied with the unity of the Church. [From Clement alone the permanence of his duties could not be inferred; but it is the natural inference from a comparison of Clement and Hermas’ language about him. But it would be as
wrong to draw from Clement, as it would be to draw from Polycarp’s letter to the Philippians with its similar language (see Lightfoot, Ignat., i., p. 594), any inference against the permanent concentration of episcopal duties in the hands of an individual.] In Hermas the Church is thought of rather as distinguished from the wicked. He divides the world, one might almost say, into Christian and non-Christian, and heretics are to him mistaken teachers, as they are to Paul in Php 1:15-18. The organisation and practical maintenance of unity is not a thought that weighs much with him; and he merely speaks in a general way of the heads of the community, οὶ προηγούμενοι τῃ + ̃ς έκλλησίας The language of Ignatius is more developed; though there is, as a rule, some tendency to read him by the light of later facts. He is not a historian, describing facts; he is a preacher, giving advice as to what ought to be. He lays most stress on the points which he conceived to be lacking. He speaks with the forethought of a legislator, and the monition of a prophet, and he has caught with marvellous prescience the line of development which the Church must follow. And surely, if ever man was likely to forget self entirely, and to be filled with wider thought, it was Ignatius, when life for him was over, and with full consciousness he was about to sacrifice it for the Church. He was deeply touched by the deputations that visited him; he realised the power that a united Church might exercise; and he saw that still closer organisation, through fuller recognition of the bishops’ power, was needed. The episcopal authority was to him the centre of order and the guarantee of unity in the Church. [Lightfoot has rightly urged that Ignatius did not think (like Irenæus) that the bishops’ duty was to preserve pure and transmit faithfully the doctrine of the Church, Ignat., i., p. 382, ed I., 396, ed.II. "Unity" prompts his words. ] Except through the episkopoi, no common policy could be carried out. He insists, then, that the bishop should guide the community; but he says that this principle is a special revelation, [Philad., 7: "I learnt it not from flesh of man; it was the preaching of the Spirit, who spake on this wise: Do nothing without the bishop . . . cherish union," etc. It is clear that disunion and disobedience prevailed in Philadelphia.] and his reiteration seems a proof that urgency was necessary. [Cp. Dr. Sanday true remark,Expositor, December, 1888, p. 326. ] I can find in Ignatius no proof that the bishops were regarded as ex officio supreme even in Asia, where he was evidently much impressed by the good organisation of the Churches. His words are quite consistent with the view that the respect actually paid in each community to the bishop depended on his individual character. [We notice that the Ephesians are urged to meet together, and to obey bishop and presbyters (20) ; but they had not been in the habit of meeting often enough (13). Advice implies fault. Tralles is praised for obeying its bishop, and advised also to obey the presbyters.] The really striking development implied by Ignatius is, that a much clearer distinction between bishop and presbyter had now become generally recognised. This distinction was ready to become a difference of rank and order; and he first recognised that this was so. Others looked at the bishops under prepossessions derived from the past: he estimated them in view of what they might become in the future. For our purpose, the important point is the aspect which the institution would wear in the estimation of the Emperors. It was illegal; it was a device for doing more efficiently what the State forbade to be done at all. How far its character was known to the Government, we cannot tell; but that the Emperors studied this political phenomenon-the Christian organisation-I cannot, in the nature of the Roman administration, doubt. That they must condemn an organisation such as we have described, judging it by the fundamental principle of Roman government, is certain. That the policy of the Flavian Emperors is inexplicable in any other way seems equally certain. An organisation, strong, even if only rudimentary, is required to explain the Imperial history; and such an organisation is attested by the Christian documents. Trajan found himself unable to resist the evidence that this organisation was dangerous and illegal; yet his instinctive perception of wider issues prevented him from logically carrying out the principle. All sides of the evidence work in with one another, and all are derived from the simplest and fullest interpretation of the documents as they lie before us. Christianity was proscribed, not as a religion, but as interfering with that organisation of society which the Empire inculcated and protected. The question whether the Christian sect was treasonable was not first raised under the Flavian Emperors. It had been agitated from an early period, and was naturally revived on every occasion when the character of the sect formed a subject of consideration to the Government. The earliest charge against Christians was that of setting up a king of their own in opposition to the Emperor. Jesus was condemned on this ground; and it reappears in Acts 17:7. Eusebius mentions that a similar charge against the grandchildren of Judas, the Lord’s brother, was investigated by Domitian, and dismissed. [Euseb.,H. E., iii., 20, gives it on the authority of Hegesippus, which carries it back to the second century. This is a sign that the Christian sect was studied by the Imperial Government. It was found to involve no serious danger, but to embody a dangerous principle.]

Again, according to the old Roman view, it was justifiable, and even required, that the magistrates should proceed actively against Romans who had deserted the national religion, [Mommsen quotes as examples the expulsion of Jews from Rome by Hispallus,prætor, B.C. 139, by Tiberius, and by Claudius, the action against the Bacchanalia, the expulsion of the worship of Isis beyond the walls of Rome, etc. SeeHistor. Zft., xxviii., 402 ff.] and also against those who had been concerned in converting them. But, in fact, it would appear that this was not a frequent ground on which to found proceedings against the Christians. The feeling of pride in Roman citizenship and the exclusiveness against non-Roman rites, became much weaker as the citizenship was widened. Moreover, religious feeling in the Empire was very weak during the first century. The attempted revival of the national religion under Augustus was not lasting. Tiberius preserved the tradition of Augustus’ policy; but the mad sacrilege of Caligula must have weakened it fatally. Under Domitian, however, the revival of the national worship was a marked feature of the Imperial policy.

While the sect was condemned, it did not appear sufficiently important to require any special measures to put it down. The Government was content to lay down the principle that Christians should be dealt with by all governors under the general instructions (see p. 208). But the Roman administration maintained a very small staff of officials, and the public safety was very insufficiently attended to (see p. 24). Brigandage was rife, and brigands were followed in a very spiritless and variable way. Christians, who were classed along with brigands, profited by
the remissness of the Government. In practice the execution of the general principle would greatly depend on popular co-operation; and though popular feeling was strongly against the Christians, popular action was of a very uncertain character (see p. 325). The proscription exercised a strong influence on the Church, causing it to unite still more closely through mutual sympathy and the tendency among the persecuted to help one another; but it was unable to diminish seriously the numbers of the Christians. It merely made the Church stronger, more self-reliant, and more spirited (pp. 296, 314).

NOTE. 1

NOTE.--Many Christian confessors went to extremes in showing their contempt and hatred for their judges; and the Acta fully explain the indignation which their conduct roused in Pliny, conscious as he was of his own lofty motives, and of the wisdom of the Imperial policy. Their answers to plain questions were evasive and indirect; they lectured Roman dignitaries as if the latter were the criminals and they themselves the judges; and they even used violent reproaches and coarse insulting gestures. A Roman court presented a terrible aspect, for torture in court was a regular part of procedure, and the actual surroundings were a grim commentary on Pliny’s threats (supplicia minatus: Le Blant, Actes, p. 118). Christians who were not terrified into recantation must have been usually thrown into extreme excitement. A master of human feeling has described the effect produced on a singularly cool, intrepid, self-restrained Scot--Henry Morton--by his unjust trial before Claverhouse. But the racial character of these Christians was not cool and self-restrained, but enthusiastic and able to see only one side of a case. Exceptions occur:Polycarp’s gentle dignity and undisturbed calm are contrasted by the narrator with the nervous and hysterical conduct of others, and seem to him to be on the same lofty plane of feeling as the action of Jesus. Southern races are prone to licence of speech and gesture, by which they relieve the emotions which among us are often relieved by profane or inane expletives (a waggoner will attribute to the female relatives of his waggon, when it bumps over a stone, conduct such as Catullus attributes to the female connections of his enemy Mamurra). M. Le Blant, in some excellent remarks on the subject, l.c. 89f., quotes the rude and violent language of Jerome and Gregory Naz. against Rufinus, Vigilantius, and Julian. Drilling of Christians in the single answer to all questions of a judge is mentioned ( Le Blant, p. 290).