The history of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire: By Edward Gibbon, Esq; ... [pt.2]

CHAP. XVI. The Conduct of the Roman Government towards the Christians, from the Reign of Nero to that of Constantine.

IF we seriously consider the purity of the Christian religion, the sanctity of its moral precepts, and the innocent as well as austere lives of the greater * 1.1 number of those, who during the first ages em|braced the faith of the gospel, we should natu|rally suppose, that so benevolent a doctrine would have been received with due reverence, even by the unbelieving world; that the learned and the polite, however they might deride the miracles, would have esteemed the virtues of the new sect; and that the magistrates, instead of persecuting, would have protected an order of men who yield|ed the most passive obedience to the laws, though they declined the active cares of war and govern|ment. If on the other hand we recollect the universal toleration of Polytheism, as it was in|variably maintained by the faith of the people, the incredulity of philosophers, and the policy of the Roman senate and emperors, we are at a loss to discover what new offence the Christians had committed, what new provocation could exasperate the mild indifference of antiquity, and what new motives could urge the Roman princes, who beheld without concern a thousand forms of religion subsisting in peace under their

gentle sway, to inflict a severe punishment on any part of their subjects, who had chosen for themselves a singular but an inoffensive mode of faith and worship.

The religious policy of the ancient world seems to have assumed a more stern and intolerant cha|racter, to oppose the progress of Christianity. About fourscore years after the death of Christ, his innocent disciples were punished with death by the sentence of a proconsul of the most ami|able and philosophic character, and according to the laws of an emperor, distinguished by the wis|dom and justice of his general administration. The apologies which were repeatedly addressed to the successors of Trajan are filled with the most pathetic complaints, that the Christians who obeyed the dictates, and solicited the liberty, of conscience, were alone, among all the subjects of the Roman empire, excluded from the common benefits of their auspicious government. The deaths of a few eminent martyrs have been re|corded with care; and from the time that Chris|tianity was invested with the supreme power, the governors of the church have been no less dili|gently employed in displaying the cruelty, than in imitating the conduct, of their Pagan adver|saries. To separate (if it be possible) a few authentic as well as interesting facts from an un|digested mass of fiction and error, and to relate, in a clear and rational manner, the causes, the extent, the duration, and the most important circumstances of the persecutions to which the

first Christians were exposed, is the design of the present Chapter.

The sectaries of a persecuted religion, de|pressed * 1.2 by fear, animated with resentment, and perhaps heated by enthusiasm, are seldom in a proper temper of mind calmly to investigate, or candidly to appreciate, the motives of their ene|mies, which often escape the impartial and dis|cerning view even of those who are placed at a secure distance from the flames of persecution. A reason has been assigned for the conduct of the emperors towards the primitive Christians, which may appear the more specious and probable as it is drawn from the acknowledged genius of Poly|theism. It has already been observed, that the religious concord of the world was principally supported by the implicit assent and reverence which the nations of antiquity expressed for their respective traditions and ceremonies. It might therefore be expected, that they would unite with indignation against any sect or people which should separate itself from the communion of mankind, and claiming the exclusive possession of divine knowledge, should disdain every form of worship, except its own, as impious and ido|latrous. The rights of toleration were held by mutual indulgence: they were justly for|feited by a refusal of the accustomed tribute. As the payment of this tribute was inflexibly refused by the Jews, and by them alone, the consideration of the treatment which they expe|rienced

from the Roman magistrates, will serve to explain how far these speculations are justified by facts, and will lead us to discover the true causes of the persecution of Christianity.

Without repeating what has been already men|tioned, * 1.3 of the reverence of the Roman princes and governors for the temple of Jerusalem, we shall only observe, that the destruction of the temple and city was accompanied and followed by every circumstance that could exasperate the minds of the conquerors, and authorize religious persecution by the most specious arguments of political justice and the public safety. From the reign of Nero to that of Antoninus Pius, the Jews discovered a fierce impatience of the domi|nion of Rome, which repeatedly broke out in the most furious massacres and insurrections. Humanity is shocked at the recital of the horrid cruelties which they committed in the cities of Egypt, of Cyprus, and of Cyrene, where they dwelt in treacherous friendship with the unsus|pecting natives 1 1.4; and we are tempted to applaud the severe retaliation which was exercised by the arms of the legions against a race of fanatics, whose dire and credulous superstition seemed to render them the implacable enemies not only of

the Roman government, but of humankind 2 1.5. The enthusiasm of the Jews was supported by the opinion, that it was unlawful for them to pay taxes to an idolatrous master; and by the flat|tering promise which they derived from their ancient oracles, that a conquering Messiah would soon arise, destined to break their fetters, and to invest the favourites of heaven with the empire of the earth. It was by announcing himself as their long-expected deliverer, and by calling on all the descendants of Abraham to assert the hope of Israel, that the famous Barchochebas collected a formidable army, with which he resisted dur|ing two years the power of the emperor Ha|drian 3 1.6.

Notwithstanding these repeated provocations, * 1.7 the resentment of the Roman princes expired after the victory; nor were their apprehensions continued beyond the period of war and danger. By the general indulgence of polytheism, and by the mild temper of Antoninus Pius, the Jews were restored to their ancient privileges, and once more obtained the permission of circum|cising their children, with the easy restraint, that they should never confer on any foreign proselyte

that distinguishing mark of the Hebrew race 4 1.8. The numerous remains of that people, though they were still excluded from the precincts of Jerusalem, were permitted to form and to main|tain considerable establishments both in Italy and in the provinces, to acquire the freedom of Rome, to enjoy municipal honours, and to obtain at the same time an exemption from the burdensome and expensive offices of society. The modera|tion or the contempt of the Romans gave a legal sanction to the form of ecclesiastical police which was instituted by the vanquished sect. The pa|triarch, who had fixed his residence at Tiberias, was empowered to appoint his subordinate mi|nisters and apostles, to exercise a domestic juris|diction, and to receive from his dispersed bre|thren an annual contribution 5 1.9. New synagogues were frequently erected in the principal cities of the empire; and the sabbaths, the fasts, and the festivals, which were either commanded by the Mosaic law, or enjoined by the traditions of the Rabbis, were celebrated in the most solemn and public manner 6 1.10. Such gentle treatment insen|sibly assuaged the stern temper of the Jews. Awakened from their dream of prophecy and

conquest, they assumed the behaviour of peace|able and industrious subjects. Their irrecon|cileable hatred of mankind, instead of flaming out in acts of blood and violence, evaporated in less dangerous gratifications. They embraced every opportunity of over-reaching the idolaters in trade; and they pronounced secret and ambi|guous imprecations against the haughty kingdom of Edom 7 1.11.

Since the Jews, who rejected with abhorrence * 1.12 the deities adored by their sovereign and by their fellow-subjects, enjoyed however the free exer|cise of their unsocial religion; there must have existed some other cause, which exposed the dis|ciples of Christ to those severities from which the posterity of Abraham was exempt. The differ|ence between them is simple and obvious; but, according to the sentiments of antiquity, it was of the highest importance. The Jews were a nation; the Christians were a sect: and if it was natural for every community to respect the sacred institutions of their neighbours, it was incum|bent on them to persevere in those of their an|cestors. The voice of oracles, the precepts of philosophers, and the authority of the laws, una|nimously enforced this national obligation. By their lofty claim of superior sanctity, the Jews

might provoke the Polytheists to consider them as an odious and impure race. By disdaining the intercourse of other nations they might de|serve their contempt. The laws of Moses might be for the most part frivolous or absurd; yet since they had been received during many ages by a large society, his followers were justified by the example of mankind; and it was univer|sally acknowledged, that they had a right to practise what it would have been criminal in them to neglect. But this principle which pro|tected the Jewish synagogue, afforded not any favour or security to the primitive church. By embracing the faith of the Gospel, the Christians incurred the supposed guilt of an unnatural and unpardonable offence. They dissolved the sacred ties of custom and education, violated the religi|ous institutions of their country, and presump|tuously despised whatever their fathers had be|lieved as true, or had reverenced as sacred. Nor was this apostacy (if we may use the expression) merely of a partial or local kind; since the pious deserter who withdrew himself from the temples of Egypt or Syria, would equally disdain to seek an asylum in those of Athens or Carthage. Every Christian rejected with contempt the superstitions of his family, his city, and his province. The whole body of Christians unanimously refused to hold any communion with the gods of Rome, of the empire, and of mankind. It was in vain that the oppressed believer asserted the inalienable rights of conscience and private judgment. Though his situation might excite the pity, his

arguments could never reach the understanding, either of the philosophic or of the believing part of the Pagan world. To their apprehensions, it was no less a matter of surprise, that any indi|viduals should entertain scruples against comply|ing with the established mode of worship, than if they had conceived a sudden abhorrence to the manners, the dress, or the language of their na|tive country 8 1.13.

The surprise of the Pagans was soon succeed|ed * 1.14 by resentment; and the most pious of men were exposed to the unjust but dangerous impu|tation of impiety. Malice and prejudice con|curred in representing the Christians as a society of atheists, who, by the most daring attack on the religious constitution of the empire, had me|rited the severest animadversion of the civil ma|gistrate. They had separated themselves (they gloried in the confession) from every mode of superstition which was received in any part of the globe by the various temper of polytheism: but it was not altogether so evident what deity, or what form of worship, they had substituted to the gods and temples of antiquity. The pure and sublime idea which they entertained of the Su|preme Being escaped the gross conception of the Pagan multitude, who were at a loss to discover

a spiritual and solitary God, that was neither re|presented under any corporeal figure or visible symbol, nor was adored with the accustomed pomp of libations and festivals, of altars and sacrifices 9 1.15. The sages of Greece and Rome, who had elevated their minds to the contempla|tion of the existence and attributes of the First Cause, were induced by reason or by vanity to reserve for themselves and their chosen disciples the privilege of this philosophical devotion 10 1.16. They were far from admitting the prejudices of mankind as the standard of truth, but they con|sidered them as flowing from the original dis|position of human nature; and they supposed that any popular mode of faith and worship which presumed to disclaim the assistance of the senses, would, in proportion as it receded from super|stition, find itself incapable of restraining the wanderings of the fancy and the visions of fana|ticism. The careless glance which men of wit and learning condescended to cast on the Chris|tian revelation, served only to confirm their hasty opinion, and to persuade them, that the principle, which they might have revered, of the divine unity, was defaced by the wild enthusiasm,

and annihilated by the airy speculations, of the new sectaries. The author of a celebrated dia|logue, which has been attributed to Lucian, whilst he affects to treat the mysterious subject of the Trinity in a style of ridicule and contempt, betrays his own ignorance of the weakness of human reason, and of the inscrutable nature of the Divine perfections 11 1.17.

It might appear less surprising, that the found|er of Christianity should not only be revered by his disciples as a sage and a prophet, but that he should be adored as a God. The Polytheists were disposed to adopt every article of faith, which seemed to offer any resemblance, however distant or imperfect, with the popular mythology; and the legends of Bacchus, of Hercules, and of Aesculapius, had, in some measure, prepared their imagination for the appearance of the Son of God under a human form 12 1.18. But they were astonished that the Christians should abandon the temples of those ancient heroes, who, in the

infancy of the world, had invented arts, insti|tuted laws, and vanquished the tyrants or mon|sters who infested the earth; in order to choose for the exclusive object of their religious wor|ship, an obscure teacher, who, in a recent age, and among a barbarous people, had fallen a sa|crifice either to the malice of his own country|men, or to the jealousy of the Roman govern|ment. The Pagan multitude, reserving their gratitude for temporal benefits alone, rejected the inestimable present of life and immortality, which was offered to mankind by Jesus of Nazareth. His mild constancy in the midst of cruel and voluntary sufferings, his universal benevolence, and the sublime simplicity of his actions and cha|racter, were insufficient, in the opinion of those carnal men, to compensate for the want of fame, of empire, and of success; and whilst they re|fused to acknowledge his stupendous triumph over the powers of darkness and of the grave, they misrepresented, or they insulted, the equi|vocal birth, wandering life, and ignominious death, of the divine Author of Christianity 13 1.19.

The personal guilt which every Christian had * 1.20 contracted, in thus preferring his private senti|ment to the national religion, was aggravated in a very high degree by the number and union of the criminals. It is well known, and has been already observed, that Roman policy viewed with

the utmost jealousy and distrust any association among its subjects; and that the privileges of private corporations, though formed for the most harmless or beneficial purposes, were bestowed with a very sparing hand 14 1.21. The religious as|semblies of the Christians, who had separated themselves from the public worship, appeared of a much less innocent nature: they were illegal in their principle, and in their consequences might become dangerous; nor were the empe|rors conscious that they violated the laws of jus|tice, when, for the peace of society, they pro|hibited those secret and sometimes nocturnal meetings 15 1.22. The pious disobedience of the Christians made their conduct, or perhaps their designs, appear in a much more serious and cri|minal light; and the Roman princes, who might perhaps have suffered themselves to be disarmed by a ready submission, deeming their honour concerned in the execution of their commands, sometimes attempted, by rigorous punishments, to subdue this independent spirit, which boldly acknowledged an authority superior to that of the magistrate. The extent and duration of this spiritual conspiracy seemed to render it every day more deserving of his animadversion. We have already seen that the active and successful zeal of

the Christians had insensibly diffused them through every province and almost every city of the em|pire. The new converts seemed to renounce their family and country, that they might con|nect themselves in an indissoluble band of union with a peculiar society, which every where assumed a different character from the rest of mankind. Their gloomy and austere aspect, their abhor|rence of the common business and pleasures of life, and their frequent predictions of impending calamities 16 1.23, inspired the Pagans with the appre|hension of some danger, which would arise from the new sect, the more alarming as it was the more obscure.

Whatever, says Pliny, may be the principle of their conduct, their inflex|ible obstinacy appeared deserving of punish|ment 17 1.24.

The precautions with which the disciples of Christ performed the offices of religion were at * 1.25 first dictated by fear and necessity; but they were continued from choice. By imitating the awful secresy which reigned in the Eleusinian mysteries, the Christians had flattered themselves that they should render their sacred institutions more re|spectable in the eyes of the Pagan world 18 1.26. But

the event, as it often happens to the operations of subtile policy, deceived their wishes and their expectations. It was concluded, that they only concealed, what they would have blushed to dis|close. Their mistaken prudence afforded an op|portunity for malice to invent, and for suspi|cious credulity to believe, the horrid tales which described the Christians as the most wicked of human kind, who practised in their dark recesses every abomination that a depraved fancy could suggest, and who solicited the favour of their unknown God by the sacrifice of every moral virtue. There were many who pretended to confess or to relate the ceremonies of this ab|horred society. It was asserted,

that a new|born infant, entirely covered over with flour, was presented, like some mystic symbol of ini|tiation, to the knife of the proselyte, who un|knowingly inflicted many a secret and mortal wound on the innocent victim of his error; that as soon as the cruel deed was perpetrated, the sectaries drank up the blood, greedily tore asunder the quivering members, and pledged themselves to eternal secresy, by a mutual consciousness of guilt. It was as confidently affirmed, that this inhuman sacrifice was suc|ceeded by a suitable entertainment, in which intemperance served as a provocative to brutal lust; till, at the appointed moment, the lights were suddenly extinguished, shame was ba|nished, nature was forgotten; and, as acci|dent might direct, the darkness of the night

was polluted by the incestuous commerce of sisters and brothers, of sons and of mo|thers 19 1.27.

But the perusal of the ancient apologies was * 1.28 sufficient to remove even the slightest suspicion from the mind of a candid adversary. The Christians, with the intrepid security of inno|cence, appeal from the voice of rumour to the equity of the magistrates. They acknowledge, that if any proof can be produced of the crimes which calumny has imputed to them, they are worthy of the most severe punishment. They provoke the punishment, and they challenge the proof. At the same time they urge, with equal truth and propriety, that the charge is not less devoid of probability, than it is destitute of evi|dence; they ask, whether any one can seriously believe that the pure and holy precepts of the Gospel, which so frequently restrain the use of the most lawful enjoyments, should inculcate the practice of the most abominable crimes; that a large society should resolve to dishonour itself in the eyes of its own members; and that a great number of persons of either sex, and every age and character, insensible to the fear of death or infamy, should consent to violate those principles which nature and education had imprinted most

deeply in their minds 20 1.29. Nothing, it should seem, could weaken the force or destroy the ef|fect of so unanswerable a justification, unless it were the injudicious conduct of the apologists themselves, who betrayed the common cause of religion, to gratify their devout hatred to the domestic enemies of the church. It was some|times faintly insinuated, and sometimes boldly asserted, that the same bloody sacrifices, and the same incestuous festivals, which were so falsely ascribed to the orthodox believers, were in reality celebrated by the Marcionites, by the Carpocra|tians, and by several other sects of the Gnostics, who, notwithstanding they might deviate into the paths of heresy, were still actuated by the sentiments of men, and still governed by the precepts of Christianity 21 1.30. Accusations of a similar kind were retorted upon the church by the schismatics who had departed from its com|munion 22 1.31, and it was confessed on all sides, that

the most scandalous licentiousness of manners prevailed among great numbers of those who affected the name of Christians. A Pagan magistrate, who possessed neither leisure nor abilities to discern the almost imperceptible line which divides the orthodox faith from heretical pravity, might easily have imagined that their mutual animosity had extorted the discovery of their common guilt. It was fortunate for the repose, or at least for the reputation, of the first Christians, that the magistrates sometimes pro|ceeded with more temper and moderation than is usually consistent with religious zeal, and that they reported, as the impartial result of their judicial inquiry, that the sectaries, who had de|serted the established worship, appeared to them sincere in their professions, and blameless in their manners; however they might incur, by their absurd and excessive superstition, the censure of the laws 23 1.32.

History, which undertakes to record the trans|actions * 1.33 of the past, for the instruction of future, ages; would ill deserve that honourable office, if she condescended to plead the cause of tyrants, or to justify the maxims of persecution. It must, however, be acknowledged, that the conduct of the emperors who appeared the least favourable

to the primitive church, is by no means so cri|minal as that of modern sovereigns, who have employed the arm of violence and terror against the religious opinions of any part of their sub|jects. From their reflections, or even from their own feelings, a Charles V. or a Louis XIV. might have acquired a just knowledge of the rights of conscience, of the obligation of faith, and of the innocence of error. But the princes and magistrates of ancient Rome were strangers to those principles which inspired and authorised the inflexible obstinacy of the Christians in the cause of truth, nor could they themselves dis|cover in their own breasts, any motive which would have prompted them to refuse a legal, and as it were a natural, submission to the sacred institutions of their country. The same reason which contributes to alleviate the guilt, must have tended to abate the rigour, of their perse|cutions. As they were actuated, not by the furious zeal of bigots, but by the temperate po|licy of legislators, contempt must often have relaxed, and humanity must frequently have sus|pended the execution of those laws, which they enacted against the humble and obscure followers of Christ. From the general view of their cha|racter and motives we might naturally conclude: I. That a considerable time elapsed before they considered the new sectaries as an object deserv|ing of the attention of government. II. That in the conviction of any of their subjects who were accused of so very singular a crime, they

proceeded with caution and reluctance. III. That they were moderate in the use of punishments; and IV. That the afflicted church enjoyed many intervals of peace and tranquillity. Notwith|standing the careless indifference which the most copious and the most minute of the Pagan writers have shewn to the affairs of the Chris|tians 24 1.34, it may still be in our power to confirm each of these probable suppositions, by the evi|dence of authentic facts.

I. By the wise dispensation of Providence, a * 1.35 mysterious veil was cast over the infancy of the church, which, till the faith of the Christians was matured, and their numbers were multiplied, served to protect them not only from the malice but even from the knowledge of the pagan world. The slow and gradual abolition of the Mosaic ceremonies afforded a safe and innocent disguise to the more early proselytes of the Gospel. As they were far the greater part of the race of Abraham, they were distinguished by the peculiar mark of circumcision, offered up their devotions in the Temple of Jerusalem till its final destruction, and received both the Law and the Prophets as the genuine inspirations of the Deity. The Gentile converts, who by a spi|ritual adoption had been associated to the hope of Israel, were likewise confounded under the

garb and appearance of Jews 25 1.36, and as the Po|lytheists paid less regard to articles of faith than to the external worship, the new sect, which carefully concealed, or faintly announced, its future greatness and ambition, was permitted to shelter itself under the general toleration which was granted to an ancient and celebrated people in the Roman empire. It was not long, per|haps, before the Jews themselves, animated with a fiercer zeal and a more jealous faith, perceived the gradual separation of their Nazarene bre|thren from the doctrine of the synagogue; and they would gladly have extinguished the dan|gerous heresy in the blood of its adherents. But the decrees of heaven had already disarmed their malice; and though they might sometimes exert the licentious privilege of sedition, they no longer possessed the administration of criminal justice; nor did they find it easy to infuse into the calm breast of a Roman magistrate the rancour of their own zeal and prejudice. The provincial governors declared themselves ready to listen to any accusation that might affect the public safety: but as soon as they were informed, that it was a question not of facts but of words, a dispute relating only to the interpretation of the Jewish laws and prophecies, they deemed it unworthy of the majesty of Rome seriously to discuss the obscure differences which might arise among a

barbarous and superstitious people. The inno|cence of the first Christians was protected by ig|norance and contempt; and the tribunal of the pagan magistrate often proved their most assured refuge against the fury of the synagogue 26 1.37. If indeed we were disposed to adopt the traditions of a too credulous antiquity, we might relate the distant peregrinations, the wonderful at|chievements, and the various deaths of the twelve apostles: but a more accurate inquiry will induce us to doubt, whether any of those persons who had been witnesses to the miracles of Christ were permitted beyond the limits of Palestine, to seal with their blood the truth of their testimony 27 1.38. From the ordinary term of human life, it may very naturally be presumed that most of them were deceased before the dis|content of the Jews broke out into that furious war, which was terminated only by the ruin of Jerusalem. During a long period, from the death of Christ to that memorable rebellion, we cannot discover any traces of Roman intole|rance, unless they are to be found in the sudden, the transient, but the cruel persecution, which

was exercised by Nero against the Christians of the capital, thirty-five years after the former, and only two years before the latter of those great events. The character of the philosophic historian, to whom we are principally indebted for the knowledge of this singular transaction, would alone be sufficient to recommend it to our most attentive consideration.

In the tenth year of the reign of Nero, the * 1.39 capital of the empire was afflicted by a fire which raged beyond the memory or example of former ages 28 1.40. The monuments of Grecian art and of Roman virtue, the trophies of the Punic and Gallic wars, the most holy temples, and the most splendid palaces, were involved in one common destruction. Of the fourteen regions or quarters into which Rome was divided, four only subsisted entire, three were levelled with the ground, and the remaining seven, which had experienced the fury of the flames, displayed a melancholy prospect of ruin and desolation. The vigilance of government appears not to have neglected any of the precautions which might alleviate the sense of so dreadful a calamity. The Imperial gardens were thrown open to the distressed multitude, temporary buildings were erected for their accommodation, and a plentiful supply of corn and provisions was distributed at

a very moderate price 29 1.41. The most generous policy seemed to have dictated the edicts which regulated the disposition of the streets and the construction of private houses; and as it usually happens, in an age of prosperity, the conflagra|tion of Rome, in the course of a few years, pro|duced a new city, more regular and more beau|tiful than the former. But all the prudence and humanity affected by Nero on this occasion were insufficient to preserve him from the popular suspicion. Every crime might be imputed to the assassin of his wife and mother; nor could the prince, who prostituted his person and dig|nity on the theatre, be deemed incapable of the most extravagant folly. The voice of rumour accused the emperor as the incendiary of his own capital; and as the most incredible stories are the best adapted to the genius of an enraged people, it was gravely reported, and firmly be|lieved, that Nero, enjoying the calamity which he had occasioned, amused himself with singing to his lyre the destruction of ancient Troy 30 1.42. To divert a suspicion, which the power of de|spotism was unable to suppress, the emperor re|solved to substitute in his own place some ficti|tious criminals.

With this view (continues

Tacitus) he inflicted the most exquisite tor|tures on those men, who, under the vulgar appellation of Christians, were already branded * 1.43 with deserved infamy. They derived their name and origin from Christ, who in the reign of Tiberius had suffered death, by the sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilate 31 1.44. For a while, this dire superstition was checked; but it again burst forth; and not only spread itself over Judaea, the first seat of this mis|chievous sect, but was even introduced into Rome, the common asylum which receives and protects, whatever is impure, whatever is atrocious. The confessions of those who were seized, discovered a great multitude of their accomplices, and they were all convicted, not so much for the crime of setting fire to the city, as for their hatred of human kind 32 1.45.

They died in torments, and their torments were embittered by insult and derision. Some were nailed on crosses; others sewn up in the skins of wild beasts, and exposed to the fury of dogs: others again, smeared over with combustible materials, were used as torches to illuminate the darkness of the night. The gardens of Nero were destined for the melan|choly spectacle, which was accompanied with a horse race, and honoured with the presence of the emperor, who mingled with the popu|lace in the dress and attitude of a charioteer. The guilt of the Christians deserved indeed the most exemplary punishment, but the pub|lic abhorrence was changed into commisera|tion, from the opinion that those unhappy wretches were sacrificed, not so much to the public welfare, as to the cruelty of a jealous tyrant 33 1.46.

Those who survey with a curious eye the revolutions of mankind, may observe, that the gardens and circus of Nero on the Va|tican, which were polluted with the blood of the first Christians, have been rendered still more famous, by the triumph and by the abuse of the

persecuted religion. On the same spot 34 1.47, a temple, which far surpasses the ancient glories of the Capitol, has been since erected by the Christian Pontiffs, who, deriving their claim of universal dominion from an humble fisherman of Galilee, have succeeded to the throne of the Caesars, given laws to the barbarian conquerors of Rome, and extended their spiritual jurisdiction from the coast of the Baltic to the shores of the Pacific Ocean.

But it would be improper to dismiss this ac|count of Nero's persecution, till we have made some observations, that may serve to remove the difficulties with which it is perplexed, and to throw some light on the subsequent history of the church.

1. The most sceptical criticism is obliged to * 1.48 respect the truth of this extraordinary fact, and the integrity of this celebrated passage of Ta|citus. The former is confirmed by the diligent and accurate Suetonius, who mentions the pu|nishment which Nero inflicted on the Christians, a sect of men who had embraced a new and criminal superstition 35 1.49. The latter may be proved by the consent of the most ancient ma|nuscripts; by the inimitable character of the style of Tacitus; by his reputation, which

guarded his text from the interpolations of pious fraud; and by the purport of his narration, which accused the first Christians of the most atrocious crimes, without insinuating that they possessed any miraculous or even magical powers above the rest of mankind 36 1.50. 2. Notwithstand|ing it is probable that Tacitus was born some years before the fire of Rome 37 1.51, he could derive only from reading and conversation the know|ledge of an event which happened during his infancy. Before he gave himself to the Public, he calmly waited till his genius had attained its full maturity, and he was more than forty years of age, when a grateful regard for the memory of the virtuous Agricola, extorted from him the most early of those historical compositions which will delight and instruct the most distant poste|rity. After making a trial of his strength in the life of Agricola and the description of Ger|many, he conceived, and at length executed, a

more arduous work; the history of Rome, in thirty books, from the fall of Nero to the ac|cession of Nerva. The administration of Nerva introduced an age of justice and prosperity, which Tacitus had destined for the occupation of his old age 38 1.52; but when he took a nearer view of his subject, judging, perhaps, that it was a more honourable, or a less invidious office, to record the vices of past tyrants, than to celebrate the virtues of a reigning monarch, he chose rather to relate, under the form of annals, the actions of the four immediate successors of Augustus. To collect, to dispose, and to adorn a series of fourscore years, in an immortal work, every sen|tence of which is pregnant with the deepest ob|servations and the most lively images, was an undertaking sufficient to exercise the genius of Tacitus himself during the greatest part of his life. In the last years of the reign of Trajan, whilst the victorious monarch extended the power of Rome beyond its ancient limits, the historian was describing, in the second and fourth books of his annals, the tyranny of Tiberius 39 1.53; and the emperor Hadrian must have succeeded to the throne, before Tacitus, in the regular prosecu|tion of his work, could relate the fire of the capital and the cruelty of Nero towards the un|fortunate Christians. At the distance of sixty years, it was the duty of the annalist to adopt

the narratives of contemporaries; but it was na|tural for the philosopher to indulge himself in the description of the origin, the progress, and the character of the new sect, not so much ac|cording to the knowledge or prejudices of the age of Nero, as according to those of the time of Hadrian. 3. Tacitus very frequently trusts to the curiosity or reflection of his readers to supply those intermediate circumstances and ideas, which, in his extreme conciseness, he has thought proper to suppress. We may therefore presume to imagine some probable cause which could direct the cruelty of Nero against the Christians of Rome, whose obscurity, as well as innocence, should have shielded them from his indignation, and even from his notice. The Jews, who were numerous in the capital, and oppressed in their own country, were a much fitter object for the suspicions of the emperor and of the people; nor did it seem unlikely that a vanquished nation, who already discovered their abhorrence of the Roman yoke, might have recourse to the most atrocious means of gratifying their implacable revenge. But the Jews possessed very powerful advocates in the palace, and even in the heart of the tyrant; his wife and mistress, the beautiful Poppaea, and a favourite player of the race of Abraham, who had already employed their intercession in behalf of the obnoxious people 40 1.54. In their room it.

was necessary to offer some other victims, and it might easily be suggested that, although the genuine followers of Moses were innocent of the fire of Rome, there had arisen among them a new and pernicious sect of GALILAEANS, which was capable of the most horrid crimes. Under the appellation of GALILAEANS, two distinctions of men were confounded, the most opposite to each other in their manners and principles; the disciples who had embraced the faith of Jesus of Nazareth 41 1.55, and the zealots who had followed the standard of Judas the Gaulonite 42 1.56. The former were the friends, the latter were the enemies, of humankind; and the only resem|blance between them consisted in the same in|flexible constancy, which, in the defence of their cause, rendered them insensible of death and tortures. The followers of Judas, who impelled their countrymen into rebellion, were soon buried under the ruins of Jerusalem; whilst those of Jesus, known by the more celebrated name of Christians, diffused themselves over the Roman empire. How natural was it for Tacitus, in the time of Hadrian, to appropriate to the Christians,

the guilt and the sufferings, which he might, with far greater truth and justice, have attributed to a sect whose odious memory was almost ex|tinguished! 4. Whatever opinion may be enter|tained of this conjecture (for it is no more than a conjecture), it is evident that the effect, as well as the cause, of Nero's persecution, were con|fined to the walls of Rome 43 1.57; that the religious tenets of the Galilaeans, or Christians, were never made a subject of punishment, or even of inquiry; and that, as the idea of their sufferings was, for a long time, connected with the idea of cruelty and injustice, the moderation of succeed|ing princes inclined them to spare a sect, op|pressed by a tyrant, whose rage had been usually directed against virtue and innocence.

It is somewhat remarkable, that the flames of * 1.58 war consumed almost at the same time the tem|ple of Jerusalem and the Capitol of Rome 44 1.59; and it appears no less singular, that the tribute which devotion had destined to the former, should have been converted by the power of an assaulting victor to restore and adorn the splen|dour

of the latter 45 1.60. The emperors levied a general capitation tax on the Jewish people; and although the sum assessed on the head of each individual was inconsiderable, the use for which it was designed, and the severity with which it was exacted, were considered as an intolerable grievance 46 1.61. Since the officers of the revenue extended their unjust claim to many persons who were strangers to the blood or reli|gion of the Jews, it was impossible that the Christians, who had so often sheltered themselves under the shade of the synagogue, should now escape this rapacious persecution. Anxious as they were to avoid the slightest infection of ido|latry, their conscience forbade them to contri|bute to the honour of that daemon who had assumed the character of the Capitoline Jupiter. As a very numerous though declining party among the Christians still adhered to the law of Moses, their efforts to dissemble their Jewish origin were detected by the decisive test of cir|cumcision 47 1.62: nor were the Roman magistrates at leisure to inquire into the difference of their

religious tenets. Among the Christians, who were brought before the tribunal of the empe|ror, or, as it seems more probable, before that of the procurator of Judaea, two persons are said to have appeared, distinguished by their ex|traction, which was more truly noble than that of the greatest monarchs. These were the grand|sons of St. Jude the apostle, who himself was the brother of Jesus Christ 48 1.63. Their natural pre|tensions to the throne of David might perhaps attract the respect of the people, and excite the jealousy of the governor; but the meanness of their garb, and the simplicity of their answers, soon convinced him that they were neither de|sirous nor capable of disturbing the peace of the Roman empire. They frankly confessed their royal origin, and their near relation to the Mes|siah; but they disclaimed any temporal views, and professed that his kingdom, which they devoutly expected, was purely of a spiritual and angelic nature. When they were examined con|cerning their fortune and occupation, they shewed their hands hardened with daily labour, and declared that they derived their whole subsistence

from the cultivation of a farm near the village of Cocaba, of the extent of about twenty-four English acres 49 1.64, and of the value of nine thou|sand drachms, or three hundred pounds sterling. The grandsons of St. Jude were dismissed with compassion and contempt 50 1.65.

But although the obscurity of the house of * 1.66 David might protect them from the suspicions of a tyrant, the present greatness of his own family alarmed the pusillanimous temper of Do|mitian, which could only be appeased by the blood of those Romans whom he either feared, or hated, or esteemed. Of the two sons of his uncle Flavius Sabinus 51 1.67, the elder was soon con|victed of treasonable intentions, and the younger, who bore the name of Flavius Clemens, was indebted for his safety to his want of courage and ability 52 1.68. The emperor, for a long time, distin|guished so harmless a kinsman by his favour and protection, bestowed on him his own niece Do|mitilla, adopted the children of that marriage to the hope of the succession, and invested their father with the honours of the consulship. But he had scarcely finished the term of his annual

magistracy, when on a slight pretence he was condemned and executed; Domitilla was banished to a desolate island on the coast of Campania 53 1.69; and sentences either of death or of confiscation were pronounced against a great number of per|sons who were involved in the same accusation. The guilt imputed to their charge was that of Atheism and Jewish manners 54 1.70; a singular associa|tion of ideas, which cannot with any propriety be applied except to the Christians, as they were obscurely and imperfectly viewed by the magis|trates and by the writers of that period. On the strength of so probable an interpretation, and too eagerly admitting the suspicions of a tyrant as an evidence of their honourable crime, the church has placed both Clemens and Domitilla among its first martyrs, and has branded the cruelty of Domitian with the name of the second persecution. But this persecution (if it deserves that epithet) was of no long duration. A few months after the death of Clemens, and the banishment of Domitilla, Stephen, a freedman belonging to the latter, who had enjoyed the favour, but who had not surely embraced the faith, of his mistress, assassinated the emperor in

his palace 55 1.71. The memory of Domitian was condemned by the senate; his acts were rescind|ed; his exiles recalled; and under the gentle administration of Nerva, while the innocent were restored to their rank and fortunes, even the most guilty either obtained pardon or escaped punish|ment 56 1.72.

II. About ten years afterwards, under the reign * 1.73 of Trajan, the younger Pliny was intrusted by his friend and master with the government of Bithynia and Pontus. He soon found himself at a loss to determine by what rule of justice or of law he should direct his conduct in the execution of an office the most repugnant to his humanity. Pliny had never assisted at any judicial proceed|ings against the Christians, with whose name alone he seems to be acquainted; and he was totally uninformed with regard to the nature of their guilt, the method of their conviction, and the degree of their punishment. In this per|plexity he had recourse to his usual expedient, of submitting to the wisdom of Trajan an impartial, and in some respects, a favourable, account of the new superstition, requesting the emperor, that he would condescend to resolve his doubts, and to instruct his ignorance 57 1.74. The life of Pliny had been employed in the acquisition of learn|ing,

and in the business of the world. Since the age of nineteen he had pleaded with distinction in the tribunals of Rome 58 1.75, filled a place in the senate, had been invested with the honours of the consulship, and had formed very numerous connexions with every order of men, both in Italy and in the provinces. From his ignorance there|fore we may derive some useful information. We may assure ourselves, that when he accepted the government of Bithynia, there were no gene|ral laws or decrees of the senate in force against the Christians; that neither Trajan nor any of his virtuous predecessors, whose edicts were re|ceived into the civil and criminal jurisprudence, had publicly declared their intentions concerning the new sect; and that whatever proceedings had been carried on against the Christians, there were none of sufficient weight and authority to esta|blish a precedent for the conduct of a Roman magistrate.

The answer of Trajan, to which the Christians * 1.76 of the succeeding age have frequently appealed, discovers as much regard for justice and huma|nity as could be reconciled with his mistaken notions of religious policy 59 1.77. Instead of dis|playing the implacable zeal of an inquisitor,

anxious to discover the most minute particles of heresy, and exulting in the number of his vic|tims, the emperor expresses much more solicitude to protect the security of the innocent, than to prevent the escape of the guilty. He acknow|ledges the difficulty of fixing any general plan; but he lays down two salutary rules, which often afforded relief and support to the distressed Chris|tians. Though he directs the magistrates to punish such persons as are legally convicted, he prohibits them, with a very humane inconsistency, from making any inquiries concerning the sup|posed criminals. Nor was the magistrate allow|ed to proceed on every kind of information. Anonymous charges the emperor rejects, as too repugnant to the equity of his government; and he strictly requires, for the conviction of those to whom the guilt of Christianity is imputed, the positive evidence of a fair and open accuser. It is likewise probable, that the persons who assumed so invidious an office, were obliged to declare the grounds of their suspicions, to specify (both in respect to time and place) the secret assemblies, which their Christian adversary had frequented, and to disclose a great number of circumstances, which were concealed with the most vigilant jealousy from the eye of the pro|fane. If they succeeded in their prosecution, they were exposed to the resentment of a con|siderable and active party, to the censure of the more liberal portion of mankind, and to the ig|nominy which, in every age and country, has

attended the character of an informer. If, on the contrary, they failed in their proofs, they incurred the severe and perhaps capital penalty, which, according to a law published by the em|peror Hadrian, was inflicted on those who falsely attributed to their fellow-citizens the crime of Christianity. The violence of personal or super|stitious animosity might sometimes prevail over the most natural apprehensions of disgrace and danger; but it cannot surely be imagined, that accusations of so unpromising an appearance were either lightly or frequently undertaken by the Pagan subjects of the Roman empire 60 1.78.

The expedient which was employed to elude * 1.79 the prudence of the laws, affords a sufficient proof how effectually they disappointed the mis|chievous designs of private malice or superstitious zeal. In a large and tumultuous assembly the restraints of fear and shame, so forcible on the minds of individuals, are deprived of the greatest part of their influence. The pious Christian, as he was desirous to obtain or to escape the glory of martyrdom, expected, either with im|patience or with terror, the stated returns of the public games and festivals. On those occasions, the inhabitants of the great cities of the empire were collected in the circus of the theatre, where every circumstance of the place, as well as of the

ceremony, contributed to kindle their devotion, and to extinguish their humanity. Whilst the numerous spectators, crowned with garlands, per|fumed with incense, purified with the blood of victims, and surrounded with the altars and sta|tues of their tutelar deities, resigned themselves to the enjoyment of pleasures, which they con|sidered as an essential part of their religious wor|ship; they recollected that the Christians alone abhorred the gods of mankind, and by their ab|sence and melancholy on these solemn festivals, seemed to insult or to lament the public felicity. If the empire had been afflicted by any recent calamity, by a plague, a famine, or an unsuc|cessful war; if the Tyber had, or if the Nile had not, risen beyond its banks; if the earth had shaken, or if the temperate order of the sea|sons had been interrupted, the superstitious Pa|gans were convinced, that the crimes and the impiety of the Christians, who were spared by the excessive lenity of the government, had at length provoked the Divine Justice. It was not among a licentious and exasperated populace, that the forms of legal proceedings could be observed; it was not in an amphitheatre, stained with the blood of wild beasts and gladiators, that the voice of compassion could be heard. The impatient clamours of the multitude denounced the Chris|tians as the enemies of gods and men, doomed them to the severest tortures, and venturing to accuse by name some of the most distinguished of the new sectaries, required with irresistible vehemence that they should be instantly appre|hended

and cast to the lions 61 1.80. The provincial governors and magistrates who presided in the public spectacles were usually inclined to gratify the inclinations, and to appease the rage, of the people, by the sacrifice of a few obnoxious vic|tims. But the wisdom of the emperors protected the church from the danger of these tumultuous clamours and irregular accusations, which they justly censured as repugnant both to the firmness and to the equity of their administration. The edicts of Hadrian and of Antoninus Pius expressly declared, that the voice of the multitude should never be admitted as legal evidence to convict or to punish those unfortunate persons who had em|braced the enthusiasm of the Christians 62 1.81.

III. Punishment was not the inevitable con|sequence * 1.82 of conviction, and the Christians, whose guilt was the most clearly proved by the testi|mony of witnesses, or even by their voluntary confession, still retained in their own power the alternative of life or death. It was not so much the past offence, as the actual resistance, which excited the indignation of the magistrate. He was persuaded that he offered them an easy par|don, since if they consented to cast a few grains of incense upon the altar, they were dismissed from the tribunal in safety and with applause.

It was esteemed the duty of a humane judge to endeavour to reclaim, rather than to punish, those deluded enthusiasts. Varying his tone according to the age, the sex, or the situation of the pri|soners, he frequently condescended to set before their eyes every circumstance which could render life more pleasing, or death more terrible; and to solicit, nay to intreat, them, that they would shew some compassion to themselves, to their families, and to their friends 63 1.83. If threats and persuasions proved ineffectual, he had often re|course to violence; the scourge and the rack were called in to supply the deficiency of argu|ment, and every art of cruelty was employed to subdue such inflexible, and, as it appeared to the Pagans, such criminal, obstinacy. The ancient apologists of Christianity have censured, with equal truth and severity, the irregular conduct of their persecutors, who, contrary to every principle of judicial proceeding, admitted the use of torture, in order to obtain, not a con|fession, but a denial, of the crime which was the object of their inquiry 64 1.84. The monks of suc|ceeding ages, who, in their peaceful solitudes, entertained themselves with diversifying the deaths and sufferings of the primitive martyrs, have frequently invented torments of a much more refined and ingenious nature. In particu|lar,

it has pleased them to suppose, that the zeal of the Roman magistrates, disdaining every con|sideration of moral virtue or public decency, endeavoured to seduce those whom they were unable to vanquish, and that by their orders the most brutal violence was offered to those whom they found it impossible to seduce. It is related, that pious females, who were prepared to despise death, were sometimes condemned to a more severe trial, and called upon to determine whe|ther they set a higher value on their religion or on their chastity. The youths to whose licen|tious embraces they were abandoned, received a solemn exhortation from the judge, to exert their most strenuous efforts to maintain the honour of Venus against the impious virgin who refused to burn incense on her altars. Their violence how|ever was commonly disappointed, and the season|able interposition of some miraculous power preserved the chaste spouses of Christ from the dishonour even of an involuntary defeat. We should not indeed neglect to remark, that the more ancient as well as authentic memorials of the church are seldom polluted with these extra|vagant and indecent fictions 65 1.85.

The total disregard of truth and probability in * 1.86 the representation of these primitive martyrdoms

was occasioned by a very natural mistake. The ecclesiastical writers of the fourth or fifth cen|turies ascribed to the magistrates of Rome the same degree of implacable and unrelenting zeal which filled their own breasts against the heretics or the idolators of their own times. It is not improbable that some of those persons who were raised to the dignities of the empire, might have imbibed the prejudices of the populace, and that the cruel disposition of others might occasionally be stimulated by motives of avarice or of per|sonal resentment 66 1.87. But it is certain, and we may appeal to the grateful confessions of the first Christians, that the greatest part of those magis|trates who exercised in the provinces the autho|rity of the emperor, or of the senate, and to whose hands alone the jurisdiction of life and death was intrusted, behaved like men of polished manners and liberal educations, who respected the rules of justice, and who were conversant with the precepts of philosophy. They frequently declined the odious task of persecution, dismissed the charge with contempt, or suggested to the accused Christian some legal evasion, by which he might elude the severity of the laws 67 1.88. When|ever they were invested with a discretionary

power 68 1.89, they used it much less for the oppres|sion, than for the relief and benefit of the afflicted church. They were far from condemning all the Christians who were accused before their tribunal, and very far from punishing with death all those who were convicted of an obstinate adherence to the new superstition. Contenting themselves, for the most part, with the milder chastisements of imprisonment, exile, or slavery in the mines 69 1.90, they left the unhappy victims of their justice some reason to hope, that a prosperous event, the accession, the marriage, or the triumph of an emperor, might speedily restore them by a gene|ral pardon to their former state. The martyrs, * 1.91 devoted to immediate execution by the Roman magistrates, appear to have been selected from the most opposite extremes. They were either bishops and presbyters, the persons the most distinguished among the Christians by their rank and influence, and whose example might strike terror into the whole sect 70 1.92; or else they were

the meanest and most abject among them, par|ticularly those of the servile condition whose lives were esteemed of little value, and whose suffer|ings were viewed by the ancients with too care|less an indifference 71 1.93. The learned Origen, who, from his experience as well as reading, was intimately acquainted with the history of the Christians, declares, in the most express terms, that the number of martyrs was very inconsider|able 72 1.94. His authority would alone be sufficient to annihilate that formidable army of martyrs, whose relics, drawn for the most part from the catacombs of Rome, have replenished so many churches 73 1.95, and whose marvellous atchievements

have been the subject of so many volumes of Holy Romance 74 1.96. But the general assertion of Origen may be explained and confirmed by the particular testimony of his friend Dionysius, who, in the immense city of Alexandria, and under the rigorous persecution of Decius, reckons only ten men and seven women who suffered for the pro|fession of the Christian name 75 1.97.

During the same period of persecution, the zea|lous, * 1.98 the eloquent, the ambitious Cyprian governed the church, not only of Carthage, but even of Africa. He possessed every quality which could engage the reverence of the faithful, or provoke the suspicions and resentment of the Pagan magis|trates. His character as well as his station seemed to mark out that holy prelate as the most distin|guished object of envy and of danger 76 1.99. The experience, however, of the life of Cyprian, is sufficient to prove, that our fancy has exag|gerated the perilous situation of a Christian bishop; and that the dangers to which he was

exposed were less imminent than those which temporal ambition is always prepared to encoun|ter in the pursuit of honours. Four Roman emperors, with their families, their favourites, and their adherents, perished by the sword in the space of ten years, during which, the bishop of Carthage guided by his authority and elo|quence the counsels of the African church. It was only in the third year of his administration, that he had reason, during a few months, to apprehend the severe edicts of Decius, the vigi|lance * 1.100 of the magistrate, and the clamours of the multitude, who loudly demanded, that Cyprian, the leader of the Christians, should be thrown to the lions. Prudence suggested the necessity of a temporary retreat, and the voice of prudence was obeyed. He withdrew himself into an obscure solitude, from whence he could maintain a con|stant correspondence with the clergy and people of Carthage; and concealing himself till the tempest was past, he preserved his life, without relinquishing either his power or his reputation. His extreme caution did not however escape the censure of the more rigid Christians who lament|ed, or the reproaches of his personal enemies who insulted, a conduct which they considered as a pusillanimous and criminal desertion of the most sacred duty 77 1.101. The propriety of reserving him|self for the future exigencies of the church, the

example of several holy bishops 78 1.102, and the divine admonitions which, as he declares himself, he frequently received in visions and extasies, were the reasons alleged in his justification 79 1.103. But his best apology may be found in the cheerful resolution, with which, about eight years after|wards, he suffered death in the cause of religion. The authentic history of his martyrdom has been recorded with unusual candour and impartiality. A short abstract therefore of its most important circumstances will convey the clearest information of the spirit, and of the forms, of the Roman persecutions 80 1.104.

When Valerian was consul for the third, and Gallienus for the fourth, time; Paternus, pro|consul * 1.105 of Africa, summoned Cyprian to appear in his private council-chamber. He there ac|quainted him with the Imperial mandate which he had just received 81 1.106, that those who had aban|doned the Roman religion, should immediately return to the practice of the ceremonies of their

ancestors. Cyprian replied without hesitation, that he was a Christian and a bishop, devoted to the worship of the true and only Deity, to whom he offered up his daily supplications for the safety and prosperity of the two emperors, his lawful sovereigns. With modest confidence he pleaded the privilege of a citizen, in refusing to give any answer to some invidious and indeed illegal questions which the proconsul had proposed. A sentence of banishment was pronounced as the penalty of Cyprian's disobedience; and he was conducted without delay to Curubis, a free and maritime city of Zeugitania, in a pleasant situa|tion, a fertile territory, and at the distance of about forty miles from Carthage 82 1.107. The exiled bishop enjoyed the conveniencies of life and the consciousness of virtue. His reputation was dif|fused over Africa and Italy; an account of his behaviour was published for the edification of the Christian world 83 1.108; and his solitude was fre|quently interrupted by the letters, the visits, and the congratulations of the faithful. On the arrival of a new proconsul in the province, the fortune of Cyprian appeared for some time to wear a still

more favourable aspect. He was recalled from banishment; and though not yet permitted to return to Carthage, his own gardens in the neigh|bourhood of the capital were assigned for the place of his residence 84 1.109.

At length, exactly one year 85 1.110 after Cyprian * 1.111 was first apprehended, Galerius Maximus, pro|consul of Africa, received the Imperial warrant for the execution of the Christian teachers. The bishop of Carthage was sensible that he should be singled out for one of the first victims; and the frailty of nature tempted him to withdraw him|self by a secret flight, from the danger and the honour of martyrdom: but soon recovering that fortitude which his character required, he returned to his gardens, and patiently expected the mi|nisters of death. Two officers of rank, who were intrusted with that commission, placed Cyprian between them in a chariot; and as the proconsul was not then at leisure, they conducted him, not to a prison, but to a private house in Carthage, which belonged to one of them. An elegant supper was provided for the entertainment of the bishop, and his Christian friends were permitted for the last time to enjoy his society, whilst the streets were filled with a multitude of the faithful,

anxious and alarmed at the approaching fate of their spiritual father 86 1.112. In the morning he ap|peared before the tribunal of the proconsul, who, after informing himself of the name and situation of Cyprian, commanded him to offer sacrifice, and pressed him to reflect on the consequences of his disobedience. The refusal of Cyprian was firm and decisive; and the magistrate, when he had taken the opinion of his council, pronounced with some reluctance the sentence of death. It was conceived in the following terms:

That Thascius Cyprianus should be immediately beheaded, as the enemy of the gods of Rome, and as the chief and ringleader of a criminal association, which he had seduced into an im|pious resistance against the laws of the most holy emperors, Valerian and Gallienus 87 1.113.

The manner of his execution was the mildest and least painful that could be inflicted on a person convicted of any capital offence: nor was the use of torture admitted to obtain from the bishop of Carthage either the recantation of his prin|ciples, or the discovery of his accomplices.

As soon as the sentence was proclaimed, a * 1.114 general cry of "We will die with him," arose at once among the listening multitude of Christians

who waited before the palace gates. The gene|rous effusions of their zeal and affection were neither serviceable to Cyprian nor dangerous to themselves. He was led away under a guard of tribunes and centurions, without resistance and without insult, to the place of his execution, a spacious and level plain near the city, which was already filled with great numbers of spectators. His faithful presbyters and deacons were permit|ted to accompany their holy bishop. They assisted him in laying aside his upper garment, spread linen on the ground to catch the precious relics of his blood, and received his orders to bestow five-and-twenty pieces of gold on the executioner. The martyr then covered his face with his hands, and at one blow his head was separated from his body. His corpse remained during some hours exposed to the curiosity of the Gentiles: but in the night it was removed, and transported in a triumphal procession and with a splendid illumination to the burial-place of the Christians. The funeral of Cyprian was publicly celebrated without receiving any interruption from the Roman magistrates; and those among the faithful who had performed the last offices to his person and his memory, were secure from the danger of inquiry or of punishment. It is remark|able, that of so great a multitude of bishops in the province of Africa, Cyprian was the first who was esteemed worthy to obtain the crown of mar|tyrdom 88 1.115.

It was in the choice of Cyprian either to die a martyr or to live an apostate: but on that choice depended the alternative of honour or * 1.116 infamy. Could we suppose that the bishop of Carthage had employed the profession of the Christian faith only as the instrument of his avarice or ambition, it was still incumbent on him to support the character which he had assumed 89 1.117; and, if he possessed the smallest de|gree of manly fortitude, rather to expose himself to the most cruel tortures, than by a single act to exchange the reputation of a whole life, for the abhorrence of his Christian brethren and the contempt of the Gentile world. But if the zeal of Cyprian was supported by the sincere con|viction of the truth of those doctrines which he preached, the crown of martyrdom must have appeared to him as an object of desire rather than of terror. It is not easy to extract any distinct ideas from the vague though eloquent declama|tions of the Fathers, or to ascertain the degree of immortal glory and happiness which they con|fidently promised to those who were so fortunate as to shed their blood in the cause of religion 90 1.118. They inculcated with becoming diligence, that

the fire of martyrdom supplied every defect and expiated every sin; that while the souls of ordi|nary Christians were obliged to pass through a slow and painful purification, the triumphant sufferers entered into the immediate fruition of eternal bliss, where, in the society of the patri|archs, the apostles, and the prophets, they reigned with Christ, and acted as his assessors in the universal judgment of mankind. The assurance of a lasting reputation upon earth, a motive so congenial to the vanity of human nature, often served to animate the courage of the martyrs. The honours which Rome or Athens bestowed on those citizens who had fallen in the cause of their country, were cold and unmeaning demonstra|tions of respect, when compared with the ardent gratitude and devotion which the primitive church expressed towards the victorious cham|pions of the faith. The annual commemoration of their virtues and sufferings was observed as a sacred ceremony, and at length terminated in religious worship. Among the Christians who had publicly confessed their religious principles, those, who (as it very frequently happened) had been dismissed from the tribunal or the prisons of the Pagan magistrates, obtained such honours as were justly due to their imperfect martyrdom and their generous resolution. The most pious females courted the permission of imprinting kisses on the fetters which they had worn, and on the wounds which they had received. Their persons were esteemed holy, their decisions were

admitted with deference, and they too often abused, by their spiritual pride and licentious manners, the pre-eminence which their zeal and intrepidity had acquired 91 1.119. Distinctions like these, whilst they display the exalted merit, be|tray the inconsiderable number of those who suf|fered, and of those who died for the profession of Christianity.

The sober discretion of the present age will * 1.120 more readily censure than admire, but can more easily admire than imitate, the fervour of the first Christians, who, according to the lively ex|pression of Sulpicius Severus, desired martyrdom with more eagerness than his own contemporaries solicited a bishopric 92 1.121. The epistles which Ig|natius composed as he was carried in chains through the cities of Asia, breathe sentiments the most repugnant to the ordinary feelings of human nature. He earnestly beseeches the Ro|mans, that when he should be exposed in the amphitheatre, they would not, by their kind but unseasonable intercession, deprive him of the crown of glory; and he declares his resolution to provoke and irritate the wild beasts which might be employed as the instruments of his

death 93 1.122. Some stories are related of the courage of martyrs, who actually performed what Igna|tius had intended; who exasperated the fury of the lions, pressed the executioner to hasten his office, cheerfully leaped into the fires which were kindled to consume them, and discovered a sen|sation of joy and pleasure in the midst of the most exquisite tortures. Several examples have been preserved of a zeal impatient of those re|straints which the emperors had provided for the security of the church. The Christians some|times supplied by their voluntary declaration the want of an accuser, rudely disturbed the public service of Paganism 94 1.123, and rushing in crowds round the tribunal of the magistrates, called upon them to pronounce and to inflict the sen|tence of the law. The behaviour of the Christ|ians was too remarkable to escape the notice of the ancient philosophers; but they seem to have considered it with much less admiration than astonishment. Incapable of conceiving the mo|tives which sometimes transported the fortitude of believers beyond the bounds of prudence or reason, they treated such an eagerness to die as

the strange result of obstinate despair, of stupid insensibility, or of superstitious phrenzy 95 1.124.

Un|happy men, exclaimed the proconsul Anto|ninus to the Christians of Asia, unhappy men, if you are thus weary of your lives, is it so difficult for you to find ropes and preci|pices 96 1.125?

He was extremely cautious (as it is observed by a learned and pious historian) of punishing men who had found no accusers but themselves, the Imperial laws not having made any provision for so unexpected a case: con|demning therefore a few, as a warning to their brethren, he dismissed the multitude with indig|nation and contempt 97 1.126. Notwithstanding this real or affected disdain, the intrepid constancy of the faithful was productive of more salutary effects on those minds which nature or grace had disposed for the easy reception of religious truth. On these melancholy occasions, there were many among the Gentiles who pitied, who admired, and who were converted. The generous enthu|siasm was communicated from the sufferer to the spectators; and the blood of martyrs, according to a well-known observation, became the seed of the church.

But although devotion had raised, and elo|quence continued to inflame, this fever of the mind, it insensibly gave way to the more na|tural * 1.127 hopes and fears of the human heart, to the love of life, the apprehension of pain, and the horror of dissolution. The more prudent rulers of the Church found themselves obliged to re|strain the indiscreet ardour of their followers, and to distrust a constancy which too often aban|doned them in the hour of trial 98 1.128. As the lives of the faithful became less mortified and austere, they were every day less ambitious of the ho|nours of martyrdom; and the soldiers of Christ, instead of distinguishing themselves by voluntary deeds of heroism, frequently deserted their post, and fled in confusion before the enemy whom it was their duty to resist. There were three methods, however, of escaping the flames of persecution, which were not attended with an equal degree of guilt: the first indeed was ge|nerally allowed to be innocent; the second was of a doubtful, or at least of a venial, nature; but the third implied a direct and criminal apos|tacy from the Christian faith.

I. A modern inquisitor would hear with sur|prise, * 1.129 that whenever an information was given to a Roman magistrate of any person within his jurisdiction who had embraced the sect of the Christians, the charge was communicated to the party accused, and that a convenient time was

allowed him to settle his domestic concerns, and to prepare an answer to the crime which was imputed to him 99 1.130. If he entertained any doubt of his own constancy, such a delay afforded him the opportunity of preserving his life and honour by flight, of withdrawing himself into some ob|scure retirement or some distant province, and of patiently expecting the return of peace and security. A measure so consonant to reason was soon authorized by the advice and example of the most holy prelates; and seems to have been censured by few, except by the Montanists, who deviated into heresy by their strict and obstinate adherence to the rigour of ancient discipline 100 1.131. II. The provincial governors, whose zeal was less prevalent than their avarice, had counte|nanced the practice of selling certificates (or libels as they were called), which attested, that the persons therein mentioned had complied with the laws, and sacrificed to the Roman deities. By producing these false declarations, the opu|lent and timid Christians were enabled to silence the malice of an informer, and to reconcile in

some measure their safety with their religion. A slight penance atoned for this profane dissi|mulation 101 1.132. III. In every persecution there were great numbers of unworthy Christians, who publicly disowned or renounced the faith which they had professed; and who confirmed the sin|cerity of their abjuration, by the legal acts of burning incense or of offering sacrifices. Some of these apostates had yielded on the first menace or exhortation of the magistrate; whilst the patience of others had been subdued by the length and repetition of tortures. The affrighted countenances of some betrayed their inward re|morse, while others advanced with confidence and alacrity to the altars of the gods 102 1.133. But the disguise, which fear had imposed, subsisted no longer than the present danger. As soon as the severity of the persecution was abated, the doors of the churches were assailed by the re|turning multitude of penitents, who detested their idolatrous submission, and who solicited with equal ardour, but with various success, their re-admission into the society of Christians 103 1.134.

IV. Notwithstanding the general rules, esta|blished for the conviction and punishment of the Christians, the fate of those sectaries, in an ex|tensive * 1.135 and arbitrary government, must still, in a great measure, have depended on their own behaviour, the circumstances of the times, and the temper of their supreme as well as subordi|nate rulers. Zeal might sometimes provoke, and prudence might sometimes avert or assuage, the superstitious fury of the Pagans. A variety of motives might dispose the provincial gover|nors either to enforce or to relax the execution of the laws; and of these motives, the most forcible was their regard not only for the public edicts, but for the secret intentions of the em|peror, a glance from whose eye was sufficient to kindle or to extinguish the flames of persecution. As often as any occasional severities were exer|cised in the different parts of the empire, the primitive Christians lamented and perhaps mag|nified their own sufferings; but the celebrated * 1.136 number of ten persecutions has been determined by the ecclesiastical writers of the fifth century, who possessed a more distinct view of the pro|sperous or adverse fortunes of the church, from the age of Nero to that of Diocletian. The in|genious parallels of the ten plagues of Egypt, and of the ten horns of the Apocalypse, first

suggested this calculation to their minds; and in their application of the faith of prophecy to the truth of history, they were careful to select those reigns which were indeed the most hostile to the Christian cause 104 1.137. But these transient persecutions served only to revive the zeal, and to restore the discipline of the faithful: and the moments of extraordinary rigour were compen|sated by much longer intervals of peace and security. The indifference of some princes, and the indulgence of others, permitted the Christ|ians to enjoy, though not perhaps a legal, yet an actual and public, toleration of their reli|gion.

The apology of Tertullian contains two very * 1.138 ancient, very singular, but at the same time very suspicious instances of Imperial clemency; the edicts published by Tiberius, and by Marcus Antoninus, and designed not only to protect the innocence of the Christians, but even to pro|claim those stupendous miracles which had at|tested the truth of their doctrine. The first of these examples is attended with some difficulties which might perplex a sceptical mind 105 1.139. We are required to believe, that Pontius Pilate in|formed

the emperor of the unjust sentence of death which he had pronounced against an in|nocent, and, as it appeared, a divine, person; and that, without acquiring the merit, he ex|posed himself to the danger, of martyrdom; that Tiberius, who avowed his contempt for all re|ligion, immediately conceived the design of placing the Jewish Messiah among the gods of Rome; that his servile senate ventured to disobey the commands of their master; that Tiberius, instead of resenting their refusal, contented him|self with protecting the Christians from the se|verity of the laws, many years before such laws were enacted, or before the church had assumed any distinct name or existence; and lastly, that the memory of this extraordinary transaction was preserved in the most public and authentic re|cords, which escaped the knowledge of the his|torians, of Greece and Rome, and were only visible to the eyes of an African Christian, who composed his apology one hundred and sixty years after the death of Tiberius. The edict of Marcus Antoninus is supposed to have been the effect of his devotion and gratitude, for the mi|raculous deliverance which he had obtained in the Marcomannic war. The distress of the le|gions, the seasonable tempest of rain and hail, of thunder and of lightning, and the dismay and defeat of the barbarians, have been celebrated by the eloquence of several Pagan writers. If there were any Christians in that army, it was natural that they should ascribe some merit to

the servent prayers, which, in the moment of danger, they had offered up for their own and the public safety. But we are still assured by monuments of brass and marble, by the Imperial medals, and by the Antonine column, that nei|ther the prince nor the people entertained any sense of this signal obligation, since they una|nimously attribute their deliverance to the pro|vidence of Jupiter, and to the interposition of Mercury. During the whole course of his reign, Marcus despised the Christians as a philosopher, and punished them as a sovereign 106 1.140.

By a singular fatality, the hardships which they had endured under the government of a * 1.141 virtuous prince, immediately ceased on the ac|cession of a tyrant, and as none except them|selves had experienced the injustice of Marcus, so they alone were protected by the lenity of Commodus. The celebrated Marcia, the most favoured of his concubines, and who at length contrived the murder of her Imperial lover, en|tertained a singular affection for the oppressed church; and though it was impossible that she could reconcile the practice of vice with the precepts of the Gospel, she might hope to atone for the frailties of her sex and profession, by de|claring herself the patroness of the Christians 107 1.142.

Under the gracious protection of Marcia, they passed in safety the thirteen years of a cruel ty|ranny; and when the empire was established in the house of Severus, they formed a domestic but more honourable connexion with the new court. The emperor was persuaded, that, in a dangerous sickness, he had derived some benefit, either spiritual or physical, from the holy oil, with which one of his slaves had anointed him. He always treated with peculiar distinction se|veral persons of both sexes who had embraced the new religion. The nurse as well as the pre|ceptor of Caracalla were Christians; and if that young prince ever betrayed a sentiment of hu|manity, it was occasioned by an incident, which, however trifling, bore some relation to the cause of Christianity 108 1.143. Under the reign of Severus, the fury of the populace was checked; the rigour of ancient laws was for some time suspended; and the provincial governors were satisfied with receiving an annual present from the churches within their jurisdiction, as the price, or as the reward, of their moderation 109 1.144. The contro|versy concerning the precise time of the celebra|tion of Easter armed the bishops of Asia and

Italy against each other, and was considered as the most important business of this period of leisure and tranquillity 110 1.145. Nor was the peace * 1.146 of the church interrupted, till the increasing numbers of proselytes seem at length to have attracted the attention, and to have alienated the mind, of Severus. With the design of restrain|ing the progress of Christianity, he published an edict, which, though it was designed to affect only the new converts, could not be carried into strict execution, without exposing to danger and punishment the most zealous of their teachers and missionaries. In this mitigated persecution, we may still discover the indulgent spirit of Rome and of Polytheism, which so readily admitted every excuse in favour of those who practised the religious ceremonies of their fathers 111 1.147.

But the laws which Severus had enacted, soon * 1.148 expired with the authority of that emperor; and the Christians, after this accidental tempest, en|joyed * 1.149 a calm of thirty-eight years 112 1.150. Till this period they had usually held their assemblies in private houses and sequestered places. They were now permitted to erect and consecrate con|venient edifices for the purpose of religious wor|ship 113 1.151; to purchase lands, even at Rome itself,

for the use of the community; and to conduct the elections of their ecclesiastical ministers in so public, but at the same time in so exemplary a manner, as to deserve the respectful attention of the Gentiles 114 1.152. This long repose of the church was accompanied with dignity. The reigns of those princes who derived their extraction from the Asiatic provinces, proved the most favourable to the Christians; the eminent persons of the sect, instead of being reduced to implore the pro|tection of a slave or concubine, were admitted into the palace in the honourable characters of priests and philosophers; and their mysterious doctrines, which were already diffused among the people, insensibly attracted the curiosity of their sovereign. When the empress Mammaea passed through Antioch, she expressed a desire of con|versing with the celebrated Origen, the fame of whose piety and learning was spread over the East. Origen obeyed so flattering an invitation, and though he could not expect to succeed in the conversion of an artful and ambitious woman, she listened with pleasure to his eloquent exhor|tations, and honourably dismissed him to his

retirement in Palestine 115 1.153. The sentiments of Mammaea were adopted by her son Alexander, and the philosophic devotion of that emperor was marked by a singular but injudicious regard for the Christian religion. In his domestic chapel he placed the statues of Abraham, of Orpheus, of Apollonius, and of Christ, as an honour justly due to those respectable sages who had instructed mankind in the various modes of addressing their homage to the supreme and universal Deity 116 1.154. A purer faith, as well as worship, was openly professed and practised among his household. Bishops, perhaps for the first time, were seen at court; and, after the death of Alexander, when the inhuman Maximin discharged his fury on the * 1.155 favourites and servants of his unfortunate bene|factor, a great number of Christians, of every rank, and of both sexes, were involved in the promiscuous massacre, which, on their account, has improperly received the name of Persecu|tion 117 1.156.

Notwithstanding the cruel disposition of Maxi|min, the effects of his resentment against the Christians were of a very local and temporary * 1.157 nature, and the pious Origen, who had been proscribed as a devoted victim, was still reserved to convey the truths of the Gospel to the ear of monarchs 118 1.158. He addressed several edifying let|ters to the emperor Philip, to his wife, and to his * 1.159 mother; and as soon as that prince, who was born in the neighbourhood of Palestine, had usurped the Imperial sceptre, the Christians ac|quired a friend and a protector. The public and even partial favour of Philip towards the sectaries of the new religion, and his constant reverence for the ministers of the church, gave some colour to the suspicion, which prevailed in his own times, that the emperor himself was be|come a convert to the faith 119 1.160; and afforded

some grounds for a fable which was afterwards invented, that he had been purified by confession and pennance from the guilt contracted by the murder of his innocent predecessor 120 1.161. The fall * 1.162 of Philip introduced, with the change of masters, a new system of government, so oppressive to the Christians, that their former condition, ever since the time of Domitian, was represented as a state of perfect freedom and security, if compared with the rigorous treatment which they expe|rienced under the short reign of Decius 121 1.163. The virtues of that prince will scarcely allow us to suspect that he was actuated by a mean resent|ment against the favourites of his predecessor, and it is more reasonable to believe, that in the prosecution of his general design to restore the purity of Roman manners, he was desirous of delivering the empire from what he condemned as a recent and criminal superstition. The bishops of the most considerable cities were removed by exile or death: the vigilance of the magistrates prevented the clergy of Rome during sixteen months from proceeding to a new election; and it was the opinion of the Christians, that the

emperor would more patiently endure a compe|titor for the purple, than a bishop in the capi|tal 122 1.164. Were it possible to suppose that the penetration of Decius had discovered pride under the disguise of humility, or that he could foresee the temporal dominion which might insensibly arise from the claims of spiritual authority, we might be less surprised, that he should consider the successors of St. Peter as the most formidable rivals to those of Augustus.

The administration of Valerian was distin|guished * 1.165 by a levity and inconstancy, ill-suited to the gravity of the Roman Censor. In the first part of his reign, he surpassed in clemency those * 1.166 princes who had been suspected of an attachment to the Christian faith. In the last three years and a half, listening to the insinuations of a minister addicted to the superstitions of Egypt, he adopted the maxims, and imitated the severity, of his predecessor Decius 123 1.167. The accession of Gal|lienus, which increased the calamities of the empire, restored peace to the church; and the Christians obtained the free exercise of their reli|gion, by an edict addressed to the bishops, and conceived in such terms as seemed to acknow|ledge

their office and public character 124 1.168. The ancient laws, without being formally repealed, were suffered to sink into oblivion; and (except|ing only some hostile intentions which are attri|buted to the emperor Aurelian 125 1.169) the disciples of Christ passed above forty years in a state of prosperity, far more dangerous to their virtue than the severest trials of persecution.

The story of Paul of Samosata, who filled the * 1.170 metropolitan see of Antioch, while the East was in the hands of Odenathus and Zenobia, may serve to illustrate the condition and character of * 1.171 the times. The wealth of that prelate was a suf|ficient evidence of his guilt, since it was neither derived from the inheritance of his fathers, nor acquired by the arts of honest industry. But Paul considered the service of the church as a very lucrative profession 126 1.172. His ecclesiastical jurisdiction was venal and rapacious; he extorted

frequent contributions from the most opulent of the faithful, and converted to his own use a con|siderable part of the public revenue. By his pride and luxury, the Christian religion was ren|dered odious in the eyes of the Gentiles. His council chamber and his throne, the splendour with which he appeared in public, the suppliant crowd who solicited his attention, the multitude of letters and petitions to which he dictated his answers, and the perpetual hurry of business in which he was involved, were circumstances much better suited to the state of a civil magistrate 127 1.173, than to the humility of a primitive bishop. When he harangued his people from the pulpit, Paul affected the figurative style and the theatrical gestures of an Asiatic sophist, while the cathedral resounded with the loudest and most extravagant acclamations in the praise of his divine eloquence. Against those who resisted his power, or refused to flatter his vanity, the prelate of Antioch was arrogant, rigid, and inexorable; but he relaxed the discipline, and lavished the treasures, of the church on his dependent clergy, who were per|mitted to imitate their master in the gratification of every sensual appetite. For Paul indulged himself very freely in the pleasures of the table, and he had received into the episcopal palace two

young and beautiful women, as the constant companions of his leisure moments 128 1.174.

Notwithstanding these scandalous vices, if Paul * 1.175 of Samosata had preserved the purity of the orthodox faith, his reign over the capital of Syria would have ended only with his life; and * 1.176 had a seasonable persecution intervened, an effort of courage might perhaps have placed him in the rank of saints and martyrs. Some nice and subtle errors, which he imprudently adopted and obstinately maintained, concerning the doctrine of the Trinity, excited the zeal and indignation of the eastern churches 129 1.177. From Egypt to the Euxine sea, the bishops were in arms and in motion. Several councils were held, confuta|tions were published, excommunications were pronounced, ambiguous explanations were by turns accepted and refused, treaties were con|cluded and violated, and at length Paul of Samosata was degraded from his episcopal cha|racter, by the sentence of seventy or eighty bishops, who assembled for that purpose at An|tioch, and who, without consulting the rights of the clergy or people, appointed a successor by their own authority. The manifest irregularity of this proceeding increased the numbers of the discontented faction; and as Paul, who was no

stranger to the arts of courts, had insinuated him|self into the favour of Zenobia, he maintained above four years the possession of the episcopal house and office. The victory of Aurelian chang|ed the face of the East, and the two contending parties, who applied to each other the epithets of schism and heresy, were either commanded or permitted to plead their cause before the tribunal of the conqueror. This public and very singular trial affords a convincing proof, that the exist|ence, the property, the privileges, and the inter|nal policy, of the Christians were acknowledged, if not by the laws, at least by the magistrates of the empire. As a Pagan and as a soldier, it could scarcely by expected that Aurelian should enter into the discussion, whether the sentiments of Paul or those of his adversaries were most agreeable to the true standard of the orthodox faith. His determination, however, was founded on the general principles of equity and reason. * 1.178 He considered the bishops of Italy as the most impartial and respectable judges among the Chris|tians, and as soon as he was informed, that they * 1.179 had unanimously approved the sentence of the council, he acquiesced in their opinion, and im|mediately gave orders that Paul should be com|pelled to relinquish the temporal possessions belonging to an office, of which, in the judgment of his brethren, he had been regularly deprived. But while we applaud the justice, we should not overlook the policy, of Aurelian; who was desir|ous of restoring and cementing the dependence

of the provinces on the capital, by every means which could bind the interest or prejudices of any part of his subjects 130 1.180.

Amidst the frequent revolutions of the empire, * 1.181 the Christians still flourished in peace and pros|perity; and notwithstanding a celebrated aera of martyrs has been deduced from the accession of Diocletian 131 1.182, the new system of policy, intro|duced * 1.183 and maintained by the wisdom of that prince, continued, during more than eighteen years, to breathe the mildest and most liberal spirit of religious toleration. The mind of Dio|cletian himself was less adapted indeed to spe|culative inquiries, than to the active labours of war and government. His prudence rendered him averse to any great innovation, and though his temper was not very susceptible of zeal or enthusiasm, he always maintained an habitual regard for the ancient deities of the empire. But the leisure of the two empresses, of his wife Prisca, and of Valeria his daughter, permitted them to listen with more attention and respect to the truths of Christianity, which in every age has acknowledged its important obligations to female devotion 132 1.184. The principal eunuchs,

Lucian 133 1.185 and Dorotheus, Gorgonius and An|drew, who attended the person, possessed the favour, and governed the household, of Diocle|tian, protected by their powerful influence the faith which they had embraced. Their example was imitated by many of the most considerable officers of the palace, who, in their respective stations, had the care of the Imperial ornaments, of the robes, of the furniture, of the jewels, and even of the private treasury; and, though it might sometimes be incumbent on them to accompany the emperor when he sacrificed in the temple 134 1.186, they enjoyed, with their wives, their children, and their slaves, the free exercise of the Christian religion. Diocletian and his colleagues frequently conferred the most important offices on those persons, who avowed their abhorrence for the worship of the gods, but who had dis|played abilities proper for the service of the state. The bishops held an honourable rank in their respective provinces, and were treated with dis|tinction and respect, not only by the people, but by the magistrates themselves. Almost in every city, the ancient churches were found insufficient to contain the increasing multitude of proselytes; and in their place more stately and capacious edifices were erected for the public worship of the faithful. The corruption of manners and

principles, so forcibly lamented by Eusebius 135 1.187, may be considered, not only as a consequence, but as a proof, of the liberty, which the Christians enjoyed and abused under the reign of Diocletian. Prosperity had relaxed the nerves of discipline. Fraud, envy, and malice, prevailed in every congregation. The pres|byters aspired to the episcopal office, which every day became an object more worthy of their ambition. The bishops, who contended with each other for ecclesiastical pre-eminence, appeared by their conduct to claim a secular and tyrannical power in the church; and the lively faith which still distinguished the Christians from the Gentiles, was shewn much less in their lives, than in their controversial writings.

Notwithstanding this seeming security, an at|tentive * 1.188 observer might discern some symptoms that threatened the church with a more violent persecution than any which she had yet endured. The zeal and rapid progress of the Christians awakened the Polytheists from their supine indif|ference in the cause of those deities, whom custom and education had taught them to revere. The mutual provocations of a religious war, which had already continued above two hundred years, exasperated the animosity of the contending par|ties. The Pagans were incensed at the rashness of a recent and obscure sect, which presumed to

accuse their countrymen of error, and to devote their ancestors to eternal misery. The habits of justifying the popular mythology against the in|vectives of an implacable enemy, produced in their minds some sentiments of faith and reve|rence for a system which they had been accus|tomed to consider with the most careless levity. The supernatural powers assumed by the church inspired at the same time terror and emulation. The followers of the established religion in|trenched themselves behind a similar fortification of prodigies; invented new modes of sacrifice, of expiation, and of initiation 136 1.189; attempted to revive the credit of their expiring oracles 137 1.190; and listened with eager credulity to every impostor, who flattered their prejudices by a tale of won|ders 138 1.191. Both parties seemed to acknowledge the truth of those miracles which were claimed by their adversaries; and while they were con|tented

with ascribing them to the arts of magic, and to the power of daemons, they mutually concurred in restoring and establishing the reign of superstition 139 1.192. Philosophy, her most dan|gerous enemy, was now converted into her most useful ally. The groves of the academy, the gardens of Epicurus, and even the portico of the Stoics, were almost deserted, as so many diffe|rent schools of scepticism or impiety 140 1.193: and many among the Romans were desirous that the writings of Cicero should be condemned and suppressed by the authority of the senate 141 1.194. The prevailing sect of the new Platonicians judged it prudent to connect themselves with the priests, whom perhaps they despised, against the Christians, whom they had reason to fear. These fashionable philosophers prosecuted the design of extracting allegorical wisdom from the fictions of the Greek poets; instituted mysterious rites of

devotion for the use of their chosen disciples; recommended the worship of the ancient gods as the emblems or ministers of the Supreme Deity, and composed against the faith of the gospel many elaborate treatises 142 1.195, which have since been com|mitted to the flames by the prudence of orthodox emperors 143 1.196.

Although the policy of Diocletian and the * 1.197 humanity of Constantius inclined them to preserve inviolate the maxims of toleration, it was soon discovered that their two associates, Maximian and Galerius, entertained the most implacable aversion for the name and religion of the Chris|tians. The minds of those princes had never been enlightened by science; education had never softened their temper. They owed their greatness to their swords, and in their most ele|vated fortune they still retained their superstitious prejudices of soldiers and peasants. In the gene|ral administration of the provinces they obeyed the laws which their benefactor had established; but they frequently found occasions of exercising within their camp and palaces a secret persecu|tion 144 1.198, for which the imprudent zeal of the

Christians sometimes offered the most specious pretences. A sentence of death was executed upon Maximilianus, an African youth, who had been produced by his own father before the ma|gistrate as a sufficient and legal recruit, but who obstinately persisted in declaring, that his consci|ence would not permit him to embrace the pro|fession of a soldier 145 1.199. It could scarcely be expected that any government should suffer the action of Marcellus the Centurion to pass with impunity. On the day of a public festival, that officer threw away his belt, his arms, and the ensigns of his office, and exclaimed with a loud voice, that he would obey none but Jesus Christ the eternal King, and that he renounced for ever the use of carnal weapons, and the service of an idolatrous master. The soldiers, as soon as they recovered from their astonishment, secured the person of Marcellus. He was examined in the city of Tingi by the president of that part of Mauritania; and as he was convicted by his own confession, he was condemned and beheaded for

the crime of desertion 146 1.200. Examples of such a nature savour much less of religious persecution than of martial or even civil law: but they served to alienate the mind of the emperors, to justify the severity of Galerius, who dismissed a great number of Christian officers from their employ|ments; and to authorize the opinion, that a sect of enthusiasts, which avowed principles so repug|nant to the public safety, must either remain useless, or would soon become dangerous, sub|jects of the empire.

After the success of the Persian war had raised * 1.201 the hopes and the reputation of Galerius, he passed a winter with Diocletian in the place of Nicomedia; and the fate of Christianity became the object of their secret consultations 147 1.202. The experienced emperor was still inclined to pursue measures of lenity; and though he readily con|sented to exclude the Christians from holding any employments in the household or the army, he urged in the strongest terms the danger as well as cruelty of shedding the blood of those deluded fanatics. Galerius at length extorted from him the permission of summoning a council, com|posed of a few persons the most distinguished in the civil and military departments of the state. The important question was agitated in their presence, and those ambitious courtiers easily

discerned, that it was incumbent on them to second, by their eloquence, the importunate vio|lence of the Caesar. It may be presumed, that they insisted on every topic which might interest the pride, the piety, or the fears, of their sove|reign in the destruction of Christianity. Perhaps they represented, that the glorious work of the deliverance of the empire was left imperfect, as long as an independent people was permitted to subsist and multiply in the heart of the provinces. The Christians (it might speciously be alleged), renouncing the gods and the institutions of Rome, had constituted a distinct republic, which might yet be suppressed before it had acquired any military force: but which was already governed by its own laws and magistrates, was possessed of a public treasure, and was intimately connected in all its parts, by the frequent assemblies of the bishops, to whose decrees their numerous and opulent congregations yielded an implicit obe|dience. Arguments like these, may seem to have determined the reluctant mind of Diocletian to embrace a new system of persecution: but though we may suspect, it is not in our power to relate, the secret intrigues of the palace, the pri|vate views and resentments, the jealousy of women or eunuchs, and all those trifling but decisive causes which so often influence the fate of empires, and the counsels of the wisest monarchs 148 1.203.

The pleasure of the emperors was at length signified to the Christians, who, during the course of this melancholy winter, had expected, with * 1.204 anxiety, the result of so many secret consulta|tions. The twenty-third of February, which coincided with the Roman festival of the Ter|minalia 149 1.205, was appointed (whether from acci|dent or design) to set bounds to the progress of Christianity. At the earliest dawn of day, the Praetorian praefect 150 1.206, accompanied by several generals, tribunes, and officers of the revenue, repaired to the principal church of Nicomedia, which was situated on an eminence in the most populous and beautiful part of the city. The doors were instantly broke open; they rushed into the sanctuary; and as they searched in vain for some visible object of worship, they were obliged to content themselves with committing to the flames the volumes of holy scripture. The ministers of Diocletian were followed by a nume|rous body of guards and pioneers, who marched in order of battle, and were provided with all the instruments used in the destruction of forti|fied cities. By their incessant labour, a sacred edifice, which towered above the Imperial palace, and had long excited the indignation and envy

of the Gentiles, was in a few hours levelled with the ground 151 1.207.

The next day the general edict of persecution was published 152 1.208; and though Diocletian, still * 1.209 averse to the effusion of blood, had moderated the fury of Galerius, who proposed, that every one refusing to offer sacrifice, should immediately be burnt alive, the penalties inflicted on the obstinacy of the Christians might be deemed sufficiently rigorous and effectual. It was enacted, that their churches, in all the provinces of the empire, should be demolished to their founda|tions; and the punishment of death was denounced against all who should presume to hold any secret assemblies for the purpose of religious worship. The philosophers, who now assumed the unwor|thy office of directing the blind zeal of persecu|tion, had diligently studied the nature and genius of the Christian religion; and as they were not ignorant that the speculative doctrines of the faith were supposed to be contained in the writ|ings of the prophets, of the evangelists, and of the apostles, they most probably suggested the order, that the bishops and presbyters should deliver all their sacred books into the hands of the magistrates; who were commanded, under the severest penalties, to burn them in a public

and solemn manner. By the same edict, the property of the church was at once confiscated; and the several parts of which it might consist, were either sold to the highest bidder, united to the Imperial domain, bestowed on the cities and corporations, or granted to the solicitations of rapacious courtiers. After taking such effectual measures to abolish the worship, and to dissolve the government, of the Christians, it was thought necessary to subject to the most intolerable hard|ships the condition of those perverse individuals who should still reject the religion of Nature, of Rome, and of their ancestors. Persons of a liberal birth were declared incapable of holding any honours or employments; slaves were for ever deprived of the hopes of freedom, and the whole body of the people were put out of the protec|tion of the law. The judges were authorized to hear and to determine every action that was brought against a Christian. But the Christians were not permitted to complain of any injury which they themselves had suffered; and thus those unfortunate sectaries were exposed to the severity, while they were excluded from the benefits, of public justice. This new species of martyrdom, so painful and lingering, so obscure and ignominious, was, perhaps, the most proper to weary the constancy of the faithful: nor can it be doubted that the passions and interest of mankind were disposed on this occasion to second the designs of the emperors. But the policy of a well-ordered government must sometimes have

interposed in behalf of the oppressed Christians; nor was it possible for the Roman princes entirely to remove the apprehension of punishment, or to connive at every act of fraud and violence, with|out exposing their own authority and the rest of their subjects to the most alarming dangers 153 1.210.

This edict was scarcely exhibited to the public * 1.211 view, in the most conspicuous place of Nico|media, before it was torn down by the hands of a Christian, who expressed, at the same time, by the bitterest invectives, his contempt as well as abhorrence for such impious and tyrannical go|vernors. His offence, according to the mildest laws, amounted to treason, and deserved death. And if it be true that he was a person of rank and education, those circumstances could serve only to aggravate his guilt. He was burnt, or rather roasted, by a slow fire; and his execu|tioners, zealous to revenge the personal insult which had been offered to the emperors, exhausted every refinement of cruelty, without being able to subdue his patience, or to alter the steady and insulting smile which in his dying agonies he still preserved in his countenance. The Christians, though they confessed that his conduct had not been strictly conformable to the laws of prudence, admired the divine fervour of his zeal; and the excessive commendations which they lavished on the memory of their hero and martyr, con|tributed

to fix a deep impression of terror and hatred in the mind of Diocletian 154 1.212.

His fears were soon alarmed by the view of a * 1.213 danger from which he very narrowly escaped. Within fifteen days the palace of Nicomedia, and even the bedchamber of Diocletian, were twice in flames; and though both times they were extinguished without any material damage, the singular repetition of the fire was justly con|sidered as an evident proof that it had not been the effect of chance or negligence. The sus|picion naturally fell on the Christians; and it was suggested, with some degree of probability, that those desperate fanatics, provoked by their present sufferings, and apprehensive of impending calamities, had entered into a conspiracy with their faithful brethren, the eunuchs of the palace, against the lives of two emperors, whom they detested as the irreconcileable enemies of the church of God. Jealousy and resentment pre|vailed in every breast, but especially in that of Diocletian. A great number of persons, distin|guished either by the offices which they had filled, or by the favour which they had enjoyed, were thrown into prison. Every mode of torture was put in practice, and the court, as well as city, was polluted with many bloody executions 155 1.214.

But as it was found impossible to extort any discovery of this mysterious transaction, it seems incumbent on us either to presume the innocence, or to admire the resolution, of the sufferers. A few days afterwards Galerius hastily withdrew himself from Nicomedia, declaring, that if he delayed his departure from that devoted palace, he should fall a sacrifice to the rage of the Chris|tians. The ecclesiastical historians, from whom alone we derive a partial and imperfect know|ledge of this persecution, are at a loss how to account for the fears and dangers of the empe|rors. Two of these writers, a Prince and a Rhe|torician, were eye-witnesses of the fire of Nico|media. The one ascribes it to lightning, and the divine wrath; the other affirms, that it was kin|dled by the malice of Galerius himself 156 1.215.

As the edict against the Christians was designed * 1.216 for a general law of the whole empire, and as Diocletian and Galerius, though they might not wait for the consent, were assured of the concur|rence, of the western princes, it would appear more consonant to our ideas of policy, that the governors of all the provinces should have received secret instructions to publish, on one and the same day, this declaration of war within their respective departments. It was at least to be

expected, that the convenience of the public highways and established posts would have enabled the emperors to transmit their orders with the utmost dispatch from the palace of Nicomedia to the extremities of the Roman world; and that they would not have suffered fifty days to elapse, before the edict was published in Syria, and near four months before it was signified to the cities of Africa 157 1.217. This delay may perhaps be im|puted to the cautious temper of Diocletian, who had yielded a reluctant consent to the measures of persecution, and who was desirous of trying the experiment under his more immediate eye, before he gave way to the disorders and discon|tent which it must inevitably occasion in the distant provinces. At first, indeed, the magis|trates were restrained from the effusion of blood; but the use of every other severity was permitted and even recommended to their zeal; nor could the Christians, though they cheerfully resigned the ornaments of their churches, resolve to inter|rupt their religious assemblies, or to deliver their sacred books to the flames. The pious obstinacy of Felix, an African bishop, appears to have embarrassed the subordinate ministers of the go|vernment. The curator of his city sent him in chains to the proconsul. The proconsul trans|mitted him to the Praetorian praefect of Italy; and Felix, who disdained even to give an evasive answer, was at length beheaded at Venusia, in Lucania, a place on which the birth of Horace

has conferred fame 158 1.218. This precedent, and perhaps some Imperial rescript, which was issued in consequence of it, appeared to authorize the governors of provinces, in punishing with death the refusal of the Christians to deliver up their sacred books. There were undoubtedly many persons who embraced this opportunity of ob|taining the crown of martyrdom; but there were likewise too many who purchased an igno|minious life, by discovering and betraying the holy scripture into the hands of infidels. A great number even of bishops and presbyters acquired, by this criminal compliance, the opprobrious epithet of Traditors; and their offence was pro|ductive of much present scandal, and of much future discord, in the African Church 159 1.219.

The copies, as well as the versions of scrip|ture, * 1.220 were already so multiplied in the empire, that the most severe inquisition could no longer be attended with any fatal consequences; and even the sacrifice of those volumes, which, in every congregation, were preserved for public use, required the consent of some treacherous and unworthy Christians. But the ruin of the churches was easily effected by the authority of the govern|ment, and by the labour of the Pagans. In some provinces, however, the magistrates con|tented themselves with shutting up the places of

religious worship. In others, they more literally complied with the terms of the edict; and after taking away the doors, the benches, and the pulpit, which they burnt, as it were in a funeral pile, they completely demolished the remainder of the edifice 160 1.221. It is perhaps to this melan|choly occasion, that we should apply a very remarkable story, which is related with so many circumstances of variety and improbability, that it serves rather to excite than to satisfy our curi|osity. In a small town in Phrygia, of whose name as well as situation we are left ignorant, it should seem, that the magistrates and the body of the people had embraced the Christian saith; and as some resistance might be apprehended to the execution of the edict, the governor of the province was supported by a numerous detach|ment of legionaries. On their approach the citizens threw themselves into the church, with the resolution either of defending by arms that sacred edifice, or of perishing in its ruins. They indignantly rejected the notice and permission which was given them, to retire, till the soldiers, provoked by their obstinate refusal, set fire to the building on all sides, and consumed, by this ex|traordinary

kind of martyrdom, a great number of Phrygians, with their wives and children 161 1.222.

Some slight disturbances, though they were suppressed almost as soon as excited, in Syria * 1.223 and the frontiers of Armenia, afforded the ene|mies of the church a very plausible occasion to insinuate, that those troubles had been secretly fomented by the intrigues of the bishops, who had already forgotten their ostentatious profes|sions of passive and unlimited obedience 162 1.224. The resentment, or the fears, of Diocletian, at length transported him beyond the bounds of moderation, which he had hitherto preserved, and he declared, in a series of cruel edicts, his intention of abolishing the Christian name. By the first of these edicts, the governors of the provinces were directed to apprehend all persons of the ecclesiastical order; and the prisons, des|tined for the vilest criminals, were soon filled with a multitude of bishops, presbyters, deacons,

readers, and exorcists. By a second edict, the magistrates were commanded to employ every method of severity, which might reclaim them from their odious superstition, and oblige them to return to the established worship of the gods. This rigorous order was extended, by a subse|quent edict, to the whole body of Christians, who were exposed to a violent and general persecu|tion 163 1.225. Instead of those salutary restraints, which had required the direct and solemn testi|mony of an accuser, it became the duty as well as the interest of the Imperial officers, to discover, to pursue, and to torment, the most obnoxious among the faithful. Heavy penalties were de|nounced against all who should presume to save a proscribed sectary from the just indignation of the gods, and of the emperors. Yet, notwithstand|ing the severity of this law, the virtuous courage of many of the Pagans, in concealing their friends or relations, affords an honourable proof, that the rage of superstition had not extinguished in their minds the sentiments of nature and huma|nity 164 1.226.

Diocletian had no sooner published his edicts * 1.227 against the Christians, than, as if he had been desirous of committing to other hands the work of persecution, he divested himself of the Impe|rial

purple. The character and situation of his colleagues and successors sometimes urged them to enforce, and sometimes inclined them to sus|pend, the execution of these rigorous laws; nor can we acquire a just and distinct idea of this important period of ecclesiastical history, unless we separately consider the state of Christianity, in the different parts of the empire, during the space of ten years, which elapsed between the first edicts of Diocletian, and the final peace of the church.

The mild and humane temper of Constantius * 1.228 was averse to the oppression of any part of his subjects. The principal offices of his palace were exercised by Christians. He loved their persons, esteemed their fidelity, and entertained not any dislike to their religious principles. But as long as Constantius remained in the subordi|nate station of Caesar, it was not in his power openly to reject the edicts of Diocletian, or to disobey the commands of Maximian. His au|thority contributed, however, to alleviate the sufferings which he pitied and abhorred. He consented, with reluctance, to the ruin of the churches; but he ventured to protect the Chris|tians themselves from the fury of the populace, and from the rigour of the laws. The provinces of Gaul (under which we may probably include those of Britain) were indebted for the singular tranquillity which they enjoyed, to the gentle interposition of their sovereign 165 1.229. But Datianus,

the president or governor of Spain, actuated either by zeal or policy, chose rather to execute the public edicts of the emperors, than to understand the secret intentions of Constantius; and it can scarcely be doubted, that his provincial admini|stration was stained with the blood of a few martyrs 166 1.230. The elevation of Constantius to the supreme and independent dignity of Augustus, gave a free scope to the exercise of his virtues, and the shortness of his reign did not prevent him from establishing a system of toleration, of which he left the precept and the example to his son Constantine. His fortunate son, from the first moment of his accession, declaring himself the protector of the church, at length deserved the appellation of the first emperor, who publicly professed and established the Christian religion. The motives of his conversion, as they may variously be deduced from benevolence, from policy, from conviction, or from remorse; and the progress of the revolution, which, under his powerful influence, and that of his sons, rendered

Christianity the reigning religion of the Roman empire, will form a very interesting and impor|tant chapter in the third volume of this history. At present it may be sufficient to observe, that every victory of Constantine was productive of some relief or benefit to the church.

The provinces of Italy and Africa experienced * 1.231 a short but violent persecution. The rigorous edicts of Diocletian were strictly and cheerfully executed by his associate Maximian, who had long hated the Christians, and who delighted in acts of blood and violence. In the autumn of the first year of the persecution, the two empe|rors met at Rome to celebrate their triumph; several oppressive laws appear to have issued from their secret consultations, and the diligence of the magistrates was animated by the presence of their sovereigns. After Diocletian had divested himself of the purple, Italy and Africa were administered under the name of Severus, and were exposed, without defence, to the implacable resentment of his master Galerius. Among the martyrs of Rome, Adauctus deserves the notice of posterity. He was of a noble family in Italy, and had raised himself, through the successive honours of the palace, to the important office of treasurer of the private demesnes. Adauctus is the more remarkable for being the only person of rank and distinction who appears to have suf|fered death, during the whole course of this general persecution 167 1.232.

The revolt of Maxentius immediately restored peace to the churches of Italy and Africa; and the same tyrant who oppressed every other class * 1.233 of his subjects, shewed himself just, humane, and even partial, towards the afflicted Christians. He depended on their gratitude and affection, and very naturally presumed, that the injuries which they had suffered, and the dangers which they still apprehended from his most inveterate enemy, would secure the fidelity of a party al|ready considerable by their numbers and opu|lence 168 1.234. Even the conduct of Maxentius towards the bishops of Rome and Carthage, may be considered as the proof of his toleration, since it is probable that the most orthodox princes would adopt the same measures with regard to their established clergy. Marcellus, the former of those prelates, had thrown the capital into confusion, by the severe penance which he im|posed on a great number of Christians, who, during the late persecution, had renounced or dissembled their religion. The rage of faction broke out in frequent and violent seditions; the blood of the faithful was shed by each other's hands, and the exile of Marcellus, whose pru|dence seems to have been less eminent than his zeal, was found to be the only measure capable of restoring peace to the distracted church of

Rome 169 1.235. The behaviour of Mensurius, bishop of Carthage, appears to have been still more reprehensible. A deacon of that city had pub|lished a libel against the emperor. The offender took refuge in the episcopal palace; and though it was somewhat early to advance any claims of ecclesiastical immunities, the bishop refused to deliver him up to the officers of justice. For this treasonable resistance, Mensurius was sum|moned to court, and instead of receiving a legal sentence of death or banishment, he was permit|ted, after a short examination, to return to his diocese 170 1.236. Such was the happy condition of the Christian subjects of Maxentius, that whenever they were desirous of procuring for their own use any bodies of martyrs, they were obliged to purchase them from the most distant provinces of the East. A story is related of Aglae, a Ro|man lady, descended from a consular family, and possessed of so ample an estate, that it required

the management of seventy-three stewards. Among these, Boniface was the favourite of his mistress; and as Aglae mixed love with devo|tion, it is reported that he was admitted to share her bed. Her fortune enabled her to gratify the pious desire of obtaining some sacred relics from the East. She intrusted Boniface with a con|siderable sum of gold, and a large quantity of aromatics; and her lover, attended by twelve horsemen and three covered chariots, undertook a remote pilgrimage, as far as Tarsus in Cilicia 171 1.237.

The sanguinary temper of Galerius, the first * 1.238 and principal author of the persecution, was formidable to those Christians, whom their mis|fortunes had placed within the limits of his do|minions; and it may fairly be presumed, that many persons of a middle rank, who were not confined by the chains either of wealth or of poverty, very frequently deserted their native country, and sought a refuge in the milder cli|mate of the West. As long as he commanded only the armies and provinces of Illyricum, he could with difficulty either find or make a con|siderable number of martyrs, in a warlike coun|try, which had entertained the missionaries of the gospel with more coldness and reluctance than any other part of the empire 172 1.239. But when Ga|lerius

had obtained the supreme power and the government of the East, he indulged in their fullest extent his zeal and cruelty, not only in the provinces of Thrace, and Asia, which ac|knowledged his immediate jurisdiction; but in those of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, where Maximin gratified his own inclination, by yield|ing a rigorous obedience to the stern commands of his benefactor 173 1.240. The frequent disappoint|ments of his ambitious views, the experience of six years of persecution, and the salutary reflec|tions which a lingering and painful distemper suggested to the mind of Galerius, at length convinced him that the most violent efforts of despotism are insufficient to extirpate a whole people, or to subdue their religious prejudices. Desirous of repairing the mischief that he had occasioned, he published in his own name, and in those of Licinius and Constantine, a general edict, which, after a pompous recital of the Im|perial titles, proceeded in the following manner:

Among the important cares which have oc|cupied * 1.241 our mind for the utility and preserva|tion of the empire, it was our intention to correct and re-establish all things according to

the ancient laws and public discipline of the Romans. We were particularly desirous of reclaiming, into the way of reason and nature, the deluded Christians, who had renounced the religion and ceremonies instituted by their fathers; and presumptuously despising the practice of antiquity, had invented extravagant laws and opinions according to the dictates of their fancy, and had collected a various society from the different provinces of our empire. The edicts which we have published to enforce the worship of the gods, having exposed many of the Christians to danger and distress, many having suffered death, and many more, who still persist in their impious folly, being left destitute of any public exercise of religion, we are disposed to extend to those unhappy men the effects of our wonted clemency. We per|mit them therefore freely to profess their pri|vate opinions, and to assemble in their con|venticles without fear or molestation, provided always that they preserve a due respect to the established laws and government. By another rescript we shall signify our intentions to the judges and magistrates; and we hope that our indulgence will engage the Christians to offer up their prayers to the deity whom they adore, for our safety and prosperity, for their own, and for that of the republic 174 1.242.

It is not

usually in the language of edicts and manifestos, that we should search for the real character or the secret motives of princes; but as these were the words of a dying emperor, his situation, per|haps, may be admitted as a pledge of his sin|cerity.

When Galerius subscribed this edict of tolera|tion, * 1.243 he was well assured that Licinius would readily comply with the inclinations of his friend and benefactor, and that any measures in favour of the Christians, would obtain the approbation of Constantine. But the emperor would not venture to insert in the preamble the name of Maximin, whose consent was of the greatest im|portance, and who succeeded a few days after|wards to the provinces of Asia. In the first six months, however, of his new reign, Maximin affected to adopt the prudent counsels of his predecessor; and though he never condescended to secure the tranquillity of the church by a public edict, Sabinus, his Praetorian praefect, addressed a circular letter to all the governors and magistrates of the provinces, expatiating on the Imperial clemency, acknowledging the in|vincible obstinacy of the Christians, and directing the officers of justice to cease their ineffectual prosecutions, and to connive at the secret assem|blies of those enthusiasts. In consequence of these orders, great numbers of Christians were released from prison, or delivered from the mines. The confessors, singing hymns of triumph, re|turned into their own countries; and those who had yielded to the violence of the tempest, soli|cited

with tears of repentance their re-admission into the bosom of the church 175 1.244.

But this treacherous calm was of short dura|tion, * 1.245 nor could the Christians of the East place any confidence in the character of their sovereign. Cruelty and superstition were the ruling passions of the soul of Maximin. The former suggested the means, the latter pointed out the objects, of persecution. The emperor was devoted to the worship of the gods, to the study of magic, and to the belief of oracles. The prophets or phi|losophers, whom he revered as the favourites of heaven, were frequently raised to the govern|ment of provinces, and admitted into his most secret councils. They easily convinced him, that the Christians had been indebted for their vic|tories to their regular discipline, and that the weakness of polytheism had principally flowed from a want of union and subordination among the ministers of religion. A system of govern|ment was therefore instituted, which was evi|dently copied from the policy of the church. In all the great cities of the empire, the temples were repaired and beautified by the order of Max|imin; and the officiating priests of the various deities were subjected to the authority of a supe|rior pontiff, destined to oppose the bishop, and to promote the cause of paganism. These pontiffs acknowledged, in their turn, the supreme jurisdiction of the metropolitans or high-priests of the province, who acted as the immediate

vicegerents of the emperor himself. A white robe was the ensign of their dignity; and these new prelates were carefully selected from the most noble and opulent families. By the influ|ence of the magistrates, and of the sacerdotal order, a great number of dutiful addresses were obtained, particularly from the cities of Nico|media, Antioch, and Tyre, which artfully repre|sented the well-known intentions of the court as the general sense of the people; solicited the emperor to consult the laws of justice rather than the dictates of his clemency; expressed their ab|horrence of the Christians, and humbly prayed that those impious sectaries might at least be excluded from the limits of their respective ter|ritories. The answer of Maximin to the address which he obtained from the citizens of Tyre is still extant. He praises their zeal and devotion in terms of the highest satisfaction, descants on the obstinate impiety of the Christians, and be|trays, by the readiness with which he consents to their banishment, that he considered himself as receiving, rather than as conferring, an obliga|tion. The priests as well as the magistrates were empowered to enforce the execution of his edicts, which were engraved on tables of brass; and though it was recommended to them to avoid the effusion of blood, the most cruel and igno|minious punishments were inflicted on the refrac|tory Christians 176 1.246.

The Asiatic Christians had every thing to dread from the severity of a bigoted monarch, who prepared his measures of violence with such * 1.247 deliberate policy. But a few months had scarcely elapsed, before the edicts published by the two western emperors obliged Maximin to suspend the prosecution of his designs: the civil war which he so rashly undertook against Licinius employed all his attention; and the defeat and death of Maximin soon delivered the church from the last and most implacable of her enemies 177 1.248.

In this general view of the persecution, which * 1.249 was first authorized by the edicts of Diocletian, I have purposely refrained from describing the particular sufferings and deaths of the Christian martyrs. It would have been an easy task, from the history of Eusebius, from the declamations of Lactantius, and from the most ancient acts, to collect a long series of horrid and disgustful pic|tures, and to fill many pages with racks and scourges, with iron hooks, and red hot beds, and with all the variety of tortures which fire and steel, savage beasts and more savage executioners, could inflict on the human body. These melan|choly scenes might be enlivened by a crowd of visions and miracles destined either to delay the death, to celebrate the triumph, or to discover the relics, of those canonized saints who suffered for the name of Christ. But I cannot determine

what I ought to transcribe, till I am satisfied how much I ought to believe. The gravest of the ecclesiastical historians, Eusebius himself, in|directly confesses, that he has related whatever might redound to the glory, and that he has suppressed all that could tend to the disgrace, of religion 178 1.250. Such an acknowledgment will na|turally excite a suspicion that a writer who has so openly violated one of the fundamental laws of history, has not paid a very strict regard to the observance of the other: and the suspicion will derive additional credit from the character of Eusebius, which was less tinctured with cre|dulity, and more practised in the arts of courts, than that of almost any of his contemporaries. On some particular occasions, when the magis|trates were exasperated by some personal motives of interest or resentment, when the zeal of the martyrs urged them to forget the rules of pru|dence, and perhaps of decency, to overturn the altars, to pour out imprecations against the em|perors, or to strike the judge as he sat on his tribunal, it may be presumed that every mode of torture, which cruelty could invent or constancy could endure, was exhausted on those devoted

victims 179 1.251. Two circumstances, however, have been unwarily mentioned, which insinuate that the general treatment of the Christians, who had been apprehended by the officers of justice, was less intolerable than it is usually imagined to have been. 1. The confessors who were con|demned to work in the mines, were permitted, by the humanity or the negligence of their keepers, to build chapels, and freely to profess their religion in the midst of those dreary habita|tions 180 1.252. 2. The bishops were obliged to check and to censure the forward zeal of the Chris|tians, who voluntarily threw themselves into the hands of the magistrates. Some of these were persons oppressed by poverty and debts, who blindly sought to terminate a miserable existence by a glorious death. Others were allured by the hope, that a short confinement would expiate the sins of a whole life; and others again were ac|tuated by the less honourable motive of deriving a plentiful subsistence, and perhaps a considerable profit, from the alms which the charity of the faithful bestowed on the prisoners 181 1.253. After the

church had triumphed over all her enemies, the interest as well as vanity of the captives prompted them to magnify the merit of their respective suffering. A convenient distance of time or place gave an ample scope to the progress of fiction; and the frequent instances which might be alleged of holy martyrs, whose wounds had been instantly healed, whose strength had been renewed, and whose lost members had miraculously been re|stored, were extremely convenient for the purpose of removing every difficulty, and of silencing every objection. The most extravagant legends, as they conduced to the honour of the church, were applauded by the credulous multitude, countenanced by the power of the clergy, and attested by the suspicious evidence of ecclesiastical history.

The vague descriptions of exile and imprison|ment, * 1.254 of pain and torture, are so easily exag|gerated or softened by the pencil of an artful orator, that we are naturally induced to inquire into a fact of a more distinct and stubborn kind; the number of persons who suffered death in consequence of the edicts published by Diocle|tian, his associates, and his successors. The recent legendaries record whole armies and cities, which were at once swept away by the undistin|guishing rage of persecution. The more ancient writers content themselves with pouring out a liberal effusion of loose and tragical invectives, without conderscending to ascertain the precise number of those persons who were permitted to

seal with their blood their belief of the gospel. From the history of Eusebius, it may however be collected, that only nine bishops were punished with death; and we are assured, by his particular enumeration of the martyrs of Palestine, that no more than ninety-two Christians were entitled to that honourable appellation 182 1.255. As we are un|acquainted with the degree of episcopal zeal and courage which prevailed at that time, it is not in our power to draw any useful inferences from the former of these facts: but the latter may serve to justify a very important and probable conclusion. According to the distribution of Roman provinces, Palestine may be considered as the sixteenth part of the Eastern empire 183 1.256;

and since there were some governors, who from a real or affected clemency had preserved their hands unstained with the blood of the faithful 184 1.257, it is reasonable to believe, that the country which had given birth to Christianity produced at least the sixteenth part of the martyrs who suffered death within the dominions of Galerius and Max|imin; the whole might consequently amount to about fifteen hundred, a number which, if it is equally divided between the ten years of the per|secution, will allow an annual consumption of one hundred and fifty martyrs. Allotting the same proportion to the provinces of Italy, Africa, and perhaps Spain, where, at the end of two or three years, the rigour of the penal laws was either suspended or abolished, the multitude of Christians in the Roman empire, on whom a ca|pital punishment was inflicted by a judicial sen|tence, will be reduced to somewhat less than two thousand persons. Since it cannot be doubted that the Christians were more numerous, and their enemies more exasperated, in the time of Diocletian than they had ever been in any for|mer persecution, this probable and moderate computation may teach us to estimate the num|ber of primitive saints and martyrs who sacrificed their lives for the important purpose of introdu|cing Christianity into the world.

We shall conclude this chapter by a melancholy truth, which obtrudes itself on the reluctant mind; that even admitting, without hesitation * 1.258 or enquiry, all that history has recorded, or de|votion has feigned, on the subject of martyrdoms, it must still be acknowledged, that the Christians, in the course of their intestine dissentions, have inflicted far greater severities on each other, than they had experienced from the zeal of infidels. During the ages of ignorance which followed the subversion of the Roman empire in the West, the bishops of the Imperial city extended their dominion over the laity as well as clergy of the Latin church. The fabric of superstition which they had erected, and which might long have defied the feeble efforts of reason, was at length assaulted by a crowd of daring fanatics, who, from the twelfth to the sixteenth century, assumed the popular character of reformers. The church of Rome defended by violence the empire which she had acquired by fraud; a system of peace and benevolence was soon disgraced by proscrip|tions, wars, massacres, and the institution of the holy office. And as the reformers were animated by the love of civil, as well as of religious freedom, the Catholic princes connected their own interest with that of the clergy, and enforced by fire and the sword the terrors of spiritual censures. In the Netherlands alone, more than one hundred thousand of the subjects of Charles the Fifth are said to have suffered by the hand of the execu|tioner; and this extraordinary number is attested

by Grotius 185 1.259, a man of genius and learning, who preserved his moderation amidst the fury of contending sects, and who composed the annals of his own age and country, at a time when the invention of printing had facilitated the means of intelligence, and increased the danger of de|tection. If we are obliged to submit our belief to the authority of Grotius, it must be allowed, that the number of Protestants, who were exe|cuted in a single province and a single reign, far exceeded that of the primitive martyrs in the space of three centuries, and of the Roman em|pire. But if the improbability of the fact itself should prevail over the weight of evidence; if Grotius should be convicted of exaggerating the merit and sufferings of the Reformers 186 1.260; we shall be naturally led to inquire, what confidence can be placed in the doubtful and imperfect monuments of ancient credulity; what degree of credit can be assigned to a courtly bishop, and a passionate declaimer, who, under the protec|tion of Constantine, enjoyed the exclusive privi|lege of recording the persecutions inflicted on the Christians by the vanquished rivals or dis|regarded predecessors of their gracious sovereign.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Christian|ity perse|cuted by the Ro|man em|perors.
• * 1.2

  Inquiry into their motives.
• * 1.3

  Rebellious spirit of the Jews.
• 1 1.4

  In Cyrene they massacred 220,000 Greeks; in Cyprus, 240,000; in Egypt, a very great multitude. Many of these unhappy victims were sawed asunder, according to a precedent to which David had given the sanction of his example. The victorious Jews devoured the flesh, licked up the blood, and twisted the entrails like a girdle round their bodies. See Dion Cassius, l. lxviii. p. 1145.
• 2 1.5

  Without repeating the well-known narratives of Josephus, we may learn from Dion (l. lxix. p. 1162.), that in Hadrian's war 580,000 Jews were cut off by the sword, besides an infinite number which perished by famine, by disease, and by fire.
• 3 1.6

  For the sect of the Zealots, see Basnage, Histoire des Juiss, l. i. c. 17. for the characters of the Messiah, according to the Rabbis, l. v. c. 11, 12, 13. for the actions of Barchochebas, l. vii. c. 12.
• * 1.7

  Toleration of the Jew|ish religi|on.
• 4 1.8

  It is to Modestinus, a Roman lawyer (l. vi. regular.), that we are indebted for a distinct knowledge of the Edict of Antoninus. See Casaubon ad Hist. August. p. 27.
• 5 1.9

  See Basnage, Histoire des Juifs, l. iii. c. 2, 3. The office of Patriarch was suppressed by Theodosius the younger.
• 6 1.10

  We need only mention the purim, or deliverance of the Jews from the rage of Haman, which, till the reign of Theodosius, was celebrated with insolent triumph and riotous intemperance. Bas|nage, Hist. des Juifs, l. vi. c. 17. l. viii. c. 6.
• 7 1.11

  According to the false Josephus, Tsepho, the grandson of Esau, conducted into Italy the army of Aeneas, king of Carthage. An|other colony of Idumaeans, flying from the sword of David, took refuge in the dominions of Romulus. For these, or for other rea|sons of equal weight, the name of Edom was applied by the Jews to the Roman empire.
• * 1.12

  The Jews were a peo|ple which followed, the Chris|tians a sect which deserted, the religi|on of their fathers.
• 8 1.13

  From the arguments of Celsus, as they are represented and refuted by Origen (l. v. p. 247-259.), we may clearly discover the distinction that was made between the Jewish people and the Chris|tian sect. See in the Dialogue of Minucius Foelix (c. 5, 6.) a fair and not inelegant description of the popular sentiments, with regard to the desertion of the established worship.
• * 1.14

  Christia|nity accus|ed of athe|ism, and mistaken by the peo|ple and philoso|phers.
• 9 1.15

  Cur nullas aras habent? templa nulla? nulla nota simulacra?—Unde autem, vel quis ille, aut ubi, Deus unicus, solitarius, destitutus? Minucius Foelix, c. 10. The Pagan interlocutor goes on to make a distinction in favour of the Jews, who had once a tem|ple, altars, victims, &c.
• 10 1.16

  It is difficult (says Plato) to attain, and dangerous to publish, the knowledge of the true God. See the Theologie des Philosophes, in the Abbé d'Olivet's French translation of Tully de Naturâ Deo|rum, tom. i. p. 275.
• 11 1.17

  The author of the Philopatris perpetually treats the Christians as a company of dreaming enthusiasts, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, &c. and in one place, manifestly alludes to the vision, in which St. Paul was transported to the third heaven. In another place, Triephon, who personates a Christian, after deriding the Gods of Paganism, proposes a mysterious oath,

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, (is the profane answer of Critias), 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉!
• 12 1.18

  According to Justin Martyr (Apolog. Major, c. 70-85), the daemon, who had gained some imperfect knowledge of the prophe|cies, purposely contrived this resemblance, which might deter, though by different means, both the people and the philosophers from embracing the saith of Christ.
• 13 1.19

  In the first and second books of Origen, Celsus treats the birth and character of our Saviour with the most impious contempt. The orator Libanius praises Porphyry and Julian for consuting the folly of a sect, which styled a dead man of Palestine, God, and the son of God, Socrates, Hist. Ecclesiast. iii. 23.
• * 1.20

  The union and assem|blies of the Christians considered as a dan|gerous conspiracy.
• 14 1.21

  The emperor Trajan refused to incorporate a company of 150 fire-men, for the use of the city of Nicomedia. He disliked all associations. See Plin. Epist. x. 42, 43.
• 15 1.22

  The proconsul Pliny had published a general edict against un|lawful meetings. The prudence of the Christians suspended their Agapae; but it was impossible for them to omit the exercise of pub|lic worship.
• 16 1.23

  As the prophecies of the Antichrist, approaching conflagration, &c. provoked those Pagans whom they did not convert, they were men|tioned with caution and reserve; and the Montanists were censured for disclosing too freely the dangerous secret. See Mosheim, p. 413.
• 17 1.24

  Neque enim dubitabam, quodcunque esset quod faterentur (such are the words of Pliny), pervicaciam certe et inflexibilem obstinatio|nem debere puniri.
• * 1.25

  Their manners calumni|ated.
• 18 1.26

  See Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History, vol. i. p. 101. and Span|heim, Remarques sur les Caesars de Julien, p. 468, &c.
• 19 1.27

  See Justin Martyr, Apolog. i. 35. ii. 14. Athenagoras in Legation. c. 27. Tertullian, Apolog. c. 7, 8, 9. Minucius Foe|lix, c. 9, 10. 30, 31. The last of these writers relates the accusa|tion in the most elegant and circumstantial manner. The answer of Tertullian is the boldest and most vigorous.
• * 1.28

  Their im|prudent defence.
• 20 1.29

  In the persecution of Lyons, some Gentile slaves were com|pelled, by the fear of tortures, to accuse their Christian master. The church of Lyons, writing to their brethren of Asia, treat the horrid charge with proper indignation and contempt. Euseb. Hist. Eccles. v. 1.
• 21 1.30

  See Justin Martyr, Apolog. i. 35. Irenaeus adv. Haeres. i. 24. Clemens Alexandrin. Stromat. l. iii. p. 438. Euseb. iv. 8. It would be tedious and disgusting to relate all that the succeeding writers have imagined, all that Epiphanius has received, and all that Tillemont has copied. M. de Beausobre (Hist. du Mani|cheisme, l. ix. c. 8, 9.) has exposed, with great spirit, the disin|genuous arts of Augustin and Pope Leo I.
• 22 1.31

  When Tertullian became a Montanist, he aspersed the morals of the church which he had so resolutely defended.

  Sed majoris est Agape, quia per hanc adolescentes tui cum sororibus dormi|unt, appendices scilicet gulae lascivia et luxuria.

  De Jejuniis, c. 17. The 35th canon of the council of Illiberis provides against the scandals which too often polluted the vigils of the church, and disgraced the Christian name, in the eyes of unbelievers.
• 23 1.32

  Tertullian (Apolog. c. 2.) expatiates on the fair and honour|able testimony of Pliny, with much reason, and some declamation.
• * 1.33

  Idea of the conduct of the empe|rors to|wards the Christians.
• 24 1.34

  In the various compilation of the Augustan History (a part of which was composed under the reign of Constantine), there are not six lines which relate to the Christians; nor has the diligence of Xiphilin discovered their name in the large history of Dion Cassius.
• * 1.35

  They ne|glected the Christians as a sect of Jews.
• 25 1.36

  An obscure passage of Suetonius (in Claud. c. 25.) may seem to offer a proof how strangely the Jews and Christians of Rome were confounded with each other.
• 26 1.37

  See in the xviiith and xxvth chapters of the Acts of the Apostles, the behaviour of Gallio, proconsul of Achaia, and of Festus, procurator of Judea.
• 27 1.38

  In the time of Tertullian and Clemens of Alexandria, the glory of martyrdom was confined to St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. James. It was gradually bestowed on the rest of the apostles, by the more recent Greeks, who prudently selected for the theatre of their preaching and sufferings, some remote country beyond the li|mits of the Roman empire. See Mosheim, p. 81. and Tillemont, Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. i. part iii.
• * 1.39

  The fire of Rome un|der the reign of Nero.
• 28 1.40

  Tacit. Annal. xv. 38—44. Sueton. in Neron. c. 38. Dion Cassius, l. lxii. p. 1014. Orosius, vii. 7.
• 29 1.41

  The price of wheat (probably of the modius) was reduced as low as terni Nummi; which would be equivalent to about fifteen shil|lings the English quarter.
• 30 1.42

  We may observe, that the rumour is mentioned by Tacitus with a very becoming distrust and hesitation, whilst it is greedily transcribed by Suetonius, and solemnly confirmed by Dion.
• * 1.43

  Cruel pu|nishment of the Christians, as the in|cendiaries of the city.
• 31 1.44

  This testimony is alone sufficient to expose the anachronism of the Jews, who place the birth of Christ near a century sooner (Basnage, Histoire des Juifs, l. v. c. 14, 15.). We may learn from Josephus (Antiquitat. xviii. 3.), that the procuratorship of Pilate corresponded with the last ten years of Tiberius, A. D. 27—37. As to the particular time of the death of Christ, a very early tradition fixed it to the 25th of March, A. D. 29, under the con|sulship of the two Gemini (Tertullian adv. Judaeos, c. 8.). This date, which is adopted by Pagi, cardinal Norris, and Le Clerc, seems, at least, as probable as the vulgar aera, which is placed (I know not from what conjectures) four years later.
• 32 1.45

  Odio humani generis convicti. These words may either signify the hatred of mankind towards the Christians, or the hatred of the Christians towards mankind. I have preferred the latter sense, as the most agreeable to the style of Tacitus, and to the popular error, of which a precept of the Gospel (See Luke xiv. 26.) had been, perhaps, the innocent occasion. My interpretation is justified by the authority of Lipsius; of the Italian, the French, and the English translators of Tacitus; of Mosheim (p. 102.), of Le Clerc (Historia Ecclesiast. p. 427.), of Dr. Lardner (Testimonies, vol. i. p. 345.), and of the bishop of Gloucester (Divine Legation, vol. iii. p. 38.). But as the word convicti does not unite very happily with the rest of the sentence, James Gronovius has preferred the read|ing of conjuncti, which is authorised by the valuable MS. of Flo|rence.
• 33 1.46

  Tacit. Annal. xv. 44.
• 34 1.47

  Nardini Roma Antica, p. 487. Donatus de Româ Antiquâ, l. iii. p. 449.
• * 1.48

  Remarks on the pas|sage of Ta|citus rela|tive to the persecu|tion of the Christians by Nero.
• 35 1.49

  Sueton. in Nerone, c. 16. The epithet of malefica, which some sagacious commentators have translated magical, is considered by the more rational Mosheim as only synonymous to the exitiabilis of Tacitus.
• 36 1.50

  The passage concerning Jesus Christ, which was inserted into the text of Josephus, between the time of Origen and that of Euse|bius, may furnish an example of no vulgar forgery. The accom|plishment of the prophecies, the virtues, miracles, and resurrection of Jesus, are distinctly related. Josephus acknowledges that he was the Messiah, and hesitates whether he should call him a man. If any doubt can still remain concerning this celebrated passage, the reader may examine the pointed objections of Le Fevre (Haver|camp. Joseph. tom. ii. p. 267—273.), the laboured answers of Daubuz (p. 187—232.), and the masterly reply (Bibliothéque Ancienne et Moderne, tom, vii. p. 237—288.) of an anonymous critic, whom I believe to have been the learned Abbé de Lon|guerue.
• 37 1.51

  See the lives of Tacitus by Lipsius and the Abbé de la Ble|terie, Dictionnaire de Bayle à l'article TACITE, and Fabricius, Biblioth. Latin. tom. ii. p. 386. Edit. Ernest.
• 38 1.52

  Principatum Divi Nervae, et imperium Trajani, uberiorem securioremque materiam senectuti seposui. Tacit. Hist. i.
• 39 1.53

  See Tacit. Annal. ii. 61. iv. 4.
• 40 1.54

  The player's name was Aliturus. Through the same channel, Josephus (de Vitâ suâ, c. 3.), about two years before, had obtained the pardon and release of some Jewish priests who were prisoners at Rome.
• 41 1.55

  The learned Dr. Lardner (Jewish and Heathen Testimonies, vol. ii. p. 102, 103.) has proved that the name of Galilaeans, was a very ancient, and perhaps the primitive, appellation of the Chris|tians.
• 42 1.56

  Joseph. Antiquitat. xviii. 1, 2. Tillemont, Ruine des Juifs, p. 742. The sons of Judas were crucified in the time of Claudius. His grandson Eleazar, after Jerusalem was taken, defended a strong fortress with 960 of his most desperate followers. When the batter|ing ram had made a breach, they turned their swords against their wives, their children, and at length against their own breasts. They died to the last man.
• 43 1.57

  See Dodwell. Paucitat. Mart. l. xiii. The Spanish Inscription in Gruter, p. 238, No. 9, is a manifest and acknowledged forgery, contrived by that noted impostor Cyriacus of Ancona, to flatter the pride and prejudices of the Spaniards. See Ferreras, Histoire d'Es|pagne, tom. i. p. 192.
• * 1.58

  Oppression of the Jews and Chris|tians by Domitian.
• 44 1.59

  The Capitol was burnt during the civil war between Vitellius and Vespasian, the 19th of December, A. D. 69. On the 10th of August, A. D. 70, the temple of Jerusalem was destroyed by the hands of the Jews themselves, rather than by those of the Romans.
• 45 1.60

  The new Capitol was dedicated by Domitian. Sueton, in Do|mitian. c. 5. Plutarch in Poplicola, tom. i. p. 230. Edit. Bryan. The gilding alone cost 12,000 talents (above two millions and a half). It was the opinion of Martial (l. ix. Epigram 3.), that if the em|peror had called in his debts, Jupiter himself, even though he had made a general auction of Olympus, would have been unable to pay two shillings in the pound.
• 46 1.61

  With regard to the tribute, see Dion Cassius, l. lxvi. p. 1082, with Reimarus's notes. Spanheim, de Usû Numismatum, tom. ii. p. 571. and Basnage, Histoire des Juifs, l. vii. c. 2.
• 47 1.62

  Suetonius (in Domitian. c. 12.) had seen an old man of ninety publicly examined before the procurator's tribunal. This is what Martial calls, Mentula tributis damnata.
• 48 1.63

  This appellation was at first understood in the most obvious sense, and it was supposed, that the brothers of Jesus were the law|ful issue of Joseph and of Mary. A devout respect for the virginity of the mother of God, suggested to the Gnostics, and afterwards to the orthodox Greeks, the expedient of bestowing a second wife on Joseph. The Latins (from the time of Jerome) improved on that hint, asserted the perpetual celibacy of Joseph, and justified by many similar examples the new interpretation that Jude, as well as Simon and James, who are styled the brothers of Jesus Christ, were only his first cousins. See Tillemont, Mem. Ecclesiast. tom. i. part iii. and Beausobre, Hist. Critique du Manicheisme, l. ii. c. 2.
• 49 1.64

  Thirty-nine 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, squares of an hundred feet each, which, if strictly computed, would scarcely amount to nine acres. But the probability of circumstances, the practice of other Greek writers, and the authority of M. de Valois, incline me to believe that the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 is used to express the Roman jugerum.
• 50 1.65

  Eusebius, iii. 20. The story is taken from Hegesippus.
• * 1.66

  Execution of Clemens the consul.
• 51 1.67

  See the death and character of Sabinus in Tacitus (Hist. iii. 74, 75.). Sabinus was the elder brother, and, till the accession of Ves|pasian, had been considered as the principal support of the Flavian family.
• 52 1.68

  Flavium Clementem patruelem suum contemtissimae inertiae . . . ex tenuissimâ suspicione interemit, Sueton, in Domitian, c. 15.
• 53 1.69

  The isle of Pandataria, according to Dion. Bruttius Praesens (apud Euseb. iii. 18.) banishes her to that of Pontia, which was not far distant from the other. That difference, and a mistake, either of Eusebius, or of his transcribers, have given occasion to suppose two Domitillas, the wife and the niece of Clemens. See Tillemont, Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. ii. p. 224.
• 54 1.70

  Dion, l. lxvii. p. 1112. If the Bruttius Praesens, from whom it is probable that he collected this account, was the correspondent of Pliny (Epistol. vii. 3.), we may consider him as a contemporary writer.
• 55 1.71

  Suet. in Domit. c. 17. Philostratus in Vit. Apollon. l. viii.
• 56 1.72

  Dion, l. lxviii. p. 1118. Plin. Epistol. iv. 22.
• * 1.73

  Ignorance of Pliny concerning the Chris|tians.
• 57 1.74

  Plin. Epistol. x. 97. The learned Mosheim expresses himself (p. 147. 232.) with the highest approbation of Pliny's moderate and candid temper. Notwithstanding Dr. Lardner's suspicions (see Jewish and Heathen Testimonies, vol. ii. p. 46.), I am unable to discover any bigotry in his language or proceedings.
• 58 1.75

  Plin. Epist. v. 8. He pleaded his first cause A. D. 81; the year after the famous eruptions of Mount Vesuvius, in which his uncle lost his life.
• * 1.76

  Trajan and his succes|sors esta|blish a le|gal mode of pro|ceeding against them.
• 59 1.77

  Plin. Epistol. x. 98. Tertullian (Apolog. c. 5.) considers this rescript as a relaxation of the ancient penal laws, "quas Tra|janus ex parte frustratus est:" and yet Tertullian, in another part or his Apologists, exposes the inconsistency of prohibiting inquiries, and enjoining punishments.
• 60 1.78

  Eusebius (Hist. Ecclesiast. l. iv. c. 9.) has preserved the edict of Hadrian. He has likewise (c. 13.) given us one still more fa|vourable under the name of Antoninus; the authenticity of which is not so universally allowed. The second Apology of Justin contains some curious particulars relative to the accusations of Christians.
• * 1.79

  Popular clamours.
• 61 1.80

  See Tertullian (Apolog. c. 40.). The acts of the martyrdom of Polycarp exhibit a lively picture of these tumults, which were usually fomented by the malice of the Jews.
• 62 1.81

  These regulations are inserted in the above-mentioned edicts of Hadrian and Pius. See the apology of Melito (apud Euseb. l. iv. c. 26.)
• * 1.82

  Trials of the Chris|tians.
• 63 1.83

  See the rescript of Trajan, and the conduct of Pliny. The most authentic acts of the martyrs abound in these exhortations.
• 64 1.84

  In particular, see Tertullian (Apolog. c. 2, 3.), and Lactantius (Institut. Divin. v. 9.). Their reasonings are almost the same; but we may discover, that one of these apologists had been a lawyer, and the other a rhetorician.
• 65 1.85

  See two instances of this kind of torture in the Acta Sincera Martyrum, published by Ruinart, p. 160. 399. Jerome, in his Legend of Paul the Hermit, tells a strange story of a young man, who was chained naked on a bed of flowers, and assaulted by a beau|tiful and wanton courtezan. He quelled the rising temptation by biting off his tongue.
• * 1.86

  Humanity of the Ro|man ma|gistrates.
• 66 1.87

  The conversion of his wife provoked Claudius Herminianus, governor of Cappadocia, to treat the Christians with uncommon seve|rity. Tertullian ad Scapulam, c. 3.
• 67 1.88

  Tertullian, in his epistle to the governor of Africa, mentions several remarkable instances of lenity and forbearance, which had happened within his knowledge.
• 68 1.89

  Neque enim in universum aliquid quod quasi certam formam habeat, constitui potest: an expression of Trajan, which gave a very great latitude to the governors of provinces.
• 69 1.90

  In Metalla damnamur, in insulas relegemur. Tertullian. Apolog. c. 12. The mines of Numidia contained nine bishops, with a proportionable number of their clergy and people, to whom Cyprian addressed a pious epistle of praise and comfort. See Cy|prian. Epistol. 76, 77.
• * 1.91

  Inconsider|able num|ber of mar|tyrs.
• 70 1.92

  Though we cannot receive with entire confidence, either the epistles, or the acts, of Ignatius (they may be found in the 2d vo|lume of the Apostolic Fathers), yet we may quote that bishop of An|tioch as one of these exemplary martyrs. He was sent in chains to Rome as a public spectacle: and when he arrived at Troas, he receiv|ed the pleasing intelligence, that the persecution of Antioch was already at an end.
• 71 1.93

  Among the martyrs of Lyons (Euseb. l. v. c. 1.), the slave Blandina was distinguished by more exquisite tortures. Of the five martyrs so much celebrated in the acts of Felicitas and Perpetua, two were of a servile, and two others of a very mean, condition.
• 72 1.94

  Origen. advers. Celsum, l. iii. p. 116. His words deserve to be transcribed. "〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉."
• 73 1.95

  If we recollect that all the Plebeians of Rome were not Chris|tians, and that all the Christians were not saints and martyrs, we may judge with how much safety religious honours can be ascribed to bones or urns, indiscriminately taken from the public burial|place. After ten centuries of a very free and open trade, some sus|picions have arisen among the more learned catholics. They now require, as a proof of sanctity and martyrdom, the letters B. M, a viol full of red liquor, supposed to be blood, or the figure of a palm|tree. But the two former signs are of little weight, and with regard to the last, it is observed by the critics, 1. That the figure, as it is called, of a palm, is perhaps a cypress, and perhaps only a stop, the flourish of a comma, used in the monumental inscriptions. 2. That the palm was the symbol of victory among the Pagans. 3. That among the Christians it served as the emblem, not only of martyr|dom, but in general of a joyful resurrection. See the epistle of P. Mabillon, on the worship of unknown saints, and Muratori sopra le Antichitâ Italiane, Dissertat. lviii.
• 74 1.96

  As a specimen of these legends, we may be satisfied with 10,000 Christian soldiers crucified in one day, either by Trajan or Hadrian, on mount Ararat. See Baronius ad Martyrologium Ro|manum. Tillemont, Mem. Ecclesiast. tom. ii. part ii. p. 438. and Geddes's Miscellanies, vol. ii. p. 203. The abbreviation of MIL. which may signify either soldiers or thousands, is said to have occasioned some extraordinary mistakes.
• 75 1.97

  Dionysius ap Euseb. l. vi. c. 41. One of the seventeen was likewise accused of robbery.
• * 1.98

  Example of Cyprian bishop of Carthage.
• 76 1.99

  The letters of Cyprian exhibit a very curious and original pic|ture, both of the man and of the times. See likewise the two lives of Cyprian, composed with equal accuracy, though with very different views; the one by Le Clerc (Bibliothéque Universelle, tom. xii. p. 208-378.), the other by Tillemont, Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. iv. part i. p. 76-459.
• * 1.100

  His dan|ger and flight.
• 77 1.101

  See the polite but severe epistle of the clergy of Rome, to the bishop of Carthage (Cyprian, Epist. 8, 9.). Pontius labours with the greatest care and diligence to justify his master against the general censure.
• 78 1.102

  In particular those of Dionysius of Alexandria, and Gregory Thaumaturgus of Neo-Caesarea. See Euseb. Hist. Ecclesiast. l. vi. c. 40. and Memoires de Tillemont, tom. iv. part ii. p. 685.
• 79 1.103

  See Cyprian, Epist. 16. and his life by Pontius.
• 80 1.104

  We have an original life of Cyprian by the deacon Pontius, the companion of his exile, and the spectator of his death; and we like|wise possess the ancient proconsular acts of his martyrdom. These two relations are consistent with each other, and with probability; and what is somewhat remarkable, they are both unsullied by any miraculous circumstances.
• * 1.105

  A. D. 257. His banish|ment.
• 81 1.106

  It should seem that these were circular orders, sent at the same time to all the governors. Dionysius (ap. Euseb. l. vii. c. 11.) relates the history of his own banishment from Alexandria, almost in the same manner. But as he escaped and survived the persecution, we must account him either more or less fortunate than Cyprian.
• 82 1.107

  See Plin. Hist. Natur. v. 3. Cellarius, Geograph. Antiq. part iii. p. 96. Shaw's Travels, p. 90.; and for the adjacent coun|try (which is terminated by Cape Bona, or the promontory of Mer|cury), l'Afrique de Marmol. tom. ii. p. 494. There are the re|mains of an aqueduct, near Curubis, or Curbis, at present altered into Gurbes; and Dr. Shaw read an inscription, which styles that city, Colonia Fulvia. The deacon Pontius (in Vit. Cyprian. c. 12.) calls it "Apricum et competentem locum, hospitium pro voiuntate secretum, et quicquid apponi eis ante promissum est, qui regnum et justitiam Dei quaerunt."
• 83 1.108

  See Cyprian. Epistol. 77. Edit. Fell.
• 84 1.109

  Upon his conversion, he had sold those gardens for the benefit of the poor. The indulgence of God (most probably the liberality of some Christian friend) restored them to Cyprian. See Pontius, c. 15.
• 85 1.110

  When Cyprian, a twelvemonth before, was sent into exile, he dreamt that he should be put to death the next day. The event made it necessary to explain that word, as signifying a year. Pon|tius, c. 12.
• * 1.111

  His con|demnati|on.
• 86 1.112

  Pontius (c. 15.) acknowledges that Cyprian, with whom he supped, passed the night custodiâ delicatâ. The bishop exercised a last and very proper act of jurisdiction, by directing that the younger females, who watched in the street, should be removed from the dan|gers and temptations of a nocturnal crowd. Act. Proconsularia, c. 2.
• 87 1.113

  See the original sentence in the Acts, c. 4. and in Pontius, c. 17. The latter expresses it in a more rhetorical manner.
• * 1.114

  His mar|tyrdom.
• 88 1.115

  Pontius, c. 19. M. de Tillemont (Memoires, tom. iv. part i. p. 450. note 50.) is not pleased with so positive an exclusion of any former martyrs of the episcopal rank.
• * 1.116

  Various in|citements to martyr|dom.
• 89 1.117

  Whatever opinion we may entertain of the character or prin|ciples of Thomas Becket, we must acknowledge that he suffered death with a constancy not unworthy of the primitive martyrs. See Lord Lyttelton's History of Henry II. vol. ii. p. 592, &c.
• 90 1.118

  See in particular the treatise of Cyprian de Lapsis, p. 87—98. Edit. Fell. The learning of Dodwell (Dissertat. Cyprianic. xii. xiii.), and the ingenuity of Middleton (Free Enquiry, p. 162, &c.), have left scarcely any thing to add concerning the merit, the honours, and the motives of the martyrs.
• 91 1.119

  Cyprian. Epistol. 5, 6, 7. 22. 24. and de Unitat. Ecclesiae. The number of pretended martyrs has been very much multiplied, by the custom which was introduced of bestowing that honourable name on confessors.
• * 1.120

  Ardour of the first Christians.
• 92 1.121

  Certatim gloriosa in certamina ruebatur; multique avidius tum martyria gloriosis mortibus quaerebantur, quam nunc Episcopatus pravis ambitionibus appetuntur. Sulpicius Severus, l. ii. He might have omitted the word nunc.
• 93 1.122

  See Epist. ad Roman. c. 4, 5. ap. Patres Apostol. tom. ii. p. 27. It suited the purpose of Bishop Pearson (see Vindiciae Ig|natianae, part ii. c. 9.) to justify by a profusion of examples and authorities, the sentiments of Ignatius.
• 94 1.123

  The story of Polyeuctes, on which Corneille has founded a very beautiful tragedy, is one of the most celebrated, though not perhaps the most authentic, instances of this excessive zeal. We should observe, that the 60th canon of the council of Illiberis refuses the title of martyrs to those who exposed themselves to death, by publicly destroying the idols.
• 95 1.124

  See Epictetus, l. iv. c. 7. (though there is some doubt whe|ther he alludes to the Christians) Marcus Antoninus de Rebus fuis, l. xi. c. 3. Lucian in Peregrin.
• 96 1.125

  Tertullian ad Scapul. c. 5. The learned are divided between three persons of the same name, who were all proconsuls of Asia. I am inclined to ascribe this story to Antoninus Pius, who was afterwards emperor; and who may have governed Asia, under the reign of Trajan.
• 97 1.126

  Mosheim, de Rebus Christ. ante Constantin. p. 235.
• * 1.127

  Gradual relaxation.
• 98 1.128

  See the Epistle of the Church of Smyrna, ap. Euseb. Hist. Eccles. l. iv. c. 15.
• * 1.129

  Three me|thods of escaping martyr|dom.
• 99 1.130

  In the second apology of Justin, there is a particular and very curious instance of this legal delay. The same indulgence was granted to accused Christians, in the persecution of Decius; and Cyprian (de Lapsis) expressly mentions the

  Dies negantibus prae|stitutus.
• 100 1.131

  Tertullian considers flight from persecution, as an imperfect, but very criminal, apostacy, as an impious attempt to elude the will of God, &c. &c. He has written a treatise on this subject (see p. 536—544. Edit. Rigalt.), which is filled with the wildest fana|ticism, and the most incoherent declamation. It is, however, some|what remarkable, that Tertullian did not suffer martyrdom him|self.
• 101 1.132

  The Libellatici, who are chiefly known by the writings of Cyprian, are described with the utmost precision, in the copious commentary of Mosheim, p. 483—489.
• 102 1.133

  Plin. Epistol. x. 97. Dionysius Alexandrin. ap. Euseb. I. vi. c. 41. Ad prima statim verba minantis inimici maximus fratrum numerus fidem suam prodidit: nec prostiatus est persecu|tionis impetu, sed voluntario lapsu seipsum prostravit, Cyprian. Opera, p. 89. Among these deserters were many priests, and even bishops.
• 103 1.134

  It was on this occasion that Cyprian wrote his treatise De Lapsis, and many of his epistles. The controversy concerning the treatment of penitent apostates, does not occur among the Chris|tians of the preceding century. Shall we ascribe this to the supe|riority of their faith and courage, or to our less intimate knowledge of their history?
• * 1.135

  Alterna|tives of severity and tolera|tion.
• * 1.136

  The ten persecu|tions.
• 104 1.137

  See Mosheim, p. 97. Sulpicius Severus was the first author of this computation; though he seemed desirous of reserving the tenth and greatest persecution for the coming of the Antichrist.
• * 1.138

  Supposed edicts of Tiberius and Mar|cus Anto|ninus.
• 105 1.139

  The testimony given by Pontius Pilate is first mentioned by Justin. The successive improvements which the story has acquired (as it passed through the hands of Tertullian, Eusebius, Epipha|nius, Chrysostom, Orosius, Gregory of Tours, and the authors of the several editions of the acts of Pilate), are very fairly stated by Dom Calmet, Dissertat. sur l'Ecriture, tom. iii. p. 651, &c.
• 106 1.140

  On this miracle, as it is commonly called, of the thundering legion, see the admirable criticism of Mr. Moyle, in his Works, vol. ii. p. 81—390.
• * 1.141

  State of the Chris|tians in the reigns of Commo|dus and Severus. A. D. 180.
• 107 1.142

  Dion Cassius, or rather his abbreviator Xiphilin, l. lxxii. p. 1206. Mr. Moyle (p. 266.) has explained the condition of the church under the reign of Commodus.
• 108 1.143

  Compare the life of Caracalla in the Augustan History, with the epistle of Tertullian to Scapula. Dr. Jortin (Remarks on Ec|clesiastical History, vol. ii. p. 5, &c.) considers the cure of Severus, by the means of holy oil, with a strong desire to convert it into a miracle.
• 109 1.144

  Tertullian de Fugâ, c. 13. The present was made during the feast of the Saturnalia; and it is a matter of serious concern to Tertullian, that the faithful should be confounded with the most infamous professions which purchased the connivance of the govern|ment.
• 110 1.145

  Euseb. l. v. c. 23, 24. Mosheim, p. 435—447.
• * 1.146

  A. D. 198.
• 111 1.147

  Judaeos fieri sub gravi poena vetuit. Idem etiam de Christi|anis sanxit. Hist. August. p. 70.
• * 1.148

  Of the suc|cessors of Severus.
• * 1.149

  A. D. 211—249.
• 112 1.150

  Sulpicius Severus, l. ii. p. 384. This computation (allow|ing for a single exception) is confirmed by the history of Eusebius, and by the writings of Cyprian.
• 113 1.151

  The antiquity of Christian churches is discussed by Tillemont (Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. iii. part ii. p. 68—72.), and by Mr. Moyle (vol. i. p. 378—398). The former refers the first construction of them to the peace of Alexander Severus; the latter, to the peace of Gallienus.
• 114 1.152

  See the Augustan History, p. 130. The emperor Alexander adopted their method of publicly proposing the names of those per|sons who were candidates for ordination. It is true, that the ho|nour of this practice is likewise attributed to the Jews.
• 115 1.153

  Euseb. Hist. Ecclesiast. l. vi. c. 21. Hieronym. de Script. Eccles. c. 54. Mammaea was styled a holy and pious woman, both by the Christians and the Pagans. From the former, therefore, it was impossible that she should deserve that honourable epithet.
• 116 1.154

  See the Augustan History, p. 123. Mosheim (p. 465.) seems to refine too much on the domestic religion of Alexander. His de|sign of building a public temple to Christ (Hist. August. p. 129.), and the objection which was suggested either to him, or in similar circumstances to Hadrian, appear to have no other foundation than an improbable report, invented by the Christians, and credulously adopted by an historian of the age of Constantine.
• * 1.155

  A. D. 235.
• 117 1.156

  Euseb. l. vi. c. 28. It may be presumed, that the success of the Christians had exasperated the increasing bigotry of the Pagans. Dion Cassius, who composed his history under the former reign, had most probably intended for the use of his master those counsels of persecution, which he ascribes to a better age, and to the fa|vourite of Augustus. Concerning this oration of Maecenas, or ra|ther of Dion, I may refer to my own unbiassed opinion (vol. i. p. 55. Not. 25.), and to the Abbé de la Bleterie (Memoires de l'Aca|demie, tom. xxiv. p. 303. tom. xxv. p. 432).
• * 1.157

  Of Maxi|min, Phi|lip, and Decius.
• 118 1.158

  Orosius, l. vii. c. 19. mentions Origen as the object of Max|imin's resentment; and Firmilianus, a Cappadocian bishop of that age, gives a just and confined idea of this persecution (apud Cyprian. Epist. 75.).
• * 1.159

  A. D. 244.
• 119 1.160

  The mention of those princes who were publicly supposed to be Christians, as we find it in an epistle of Dionysius of Alexandria (ap. Euseb. l. vii. c. 10.), evidently alludes to Philip and his fa|mily; and forms a contemporary evidence, that such a report had prevailed; but the Egyptian bishop, who lived at an humble dis|tance from the court of Rome, expresses himself with a becoming diffidence concerning the truth of the fact. The epistles of Origen (which were extant in the time of Eusebius, see l. vi. c. 36.) would most probably decide this curious, rather than important, question.
• 120 1.161

  Euseb. l. vi. c. 34. The story, as is usual, has been em|bellished by succeeding writers, and is confuted, with much su|perfluous learning, by Frederick Spanheim (Opera Varia, tom. ii. p. 400, &c.).
• * 1.162

  A. D. 249.
• 121 1.163

  Lactantius, de Mortibus Persecutorum, c. 3, 4. After ce|lebrating the felicity and increase of the church, under a long suc|cession of good princes; he adds,

  Extitit post annos plurimos, execrabile animal, Decius, qui vexaret Ecclesiam.
• 122 1.164

  Euseb. l. vi. c. 39. Cyprian. Epistol. 55. The see of Rome remained vacant from the martyrdom of Fabianus, the 20th of January, A. D. 250, till the election of Cornelius, the 4th of June, A. D. 251. Decius had probably left Rome, since he was killed be|fore the end of that year.
• * 1.165

  Of Valeri|an, Galli|enus, and his succes|sors.
• * 1.166

  A. D. 253—260.
• 123 1.167

  Euseb. l. vii. c. 10. Mosheim (p. 548.) has very clearly shewn, that the Praefect Macrianus, and the Egyptian Magus, are one and the same person.
• 124 1.168

  Eusebius (l. vii. c. 13.) gives us a Greek version of this La|tin edict, which seems to have been very concise. By another edict, he directed, that the Coemeteria should be restored to the Christians.
• 125 1.169

  Euseb. l. vii. c. 30. Lactantius de M. P. c. 6. Hieronym. in Chron. p. 177. Orosius, l. vii. c. 23. Their language is in general so ambiguous and incorrect, that we are at a loss to deter|mine how far Aurelian had carried his intentions before he was assassinated. Most of the moderns (except Dodwell, Dissertat. Cy|prian. xi. 64.) have seized the occasion of gaining a few extraor|dinary martyrs.
• * 1.170

  Paul of Samosata, his man|ners.
• * 1.171

  A. D. 260.
• 126 1.172

  Paul was better pleased with the title of Ducenarius, than with that of bishop. The Ducenarius was an Imperial procurator, so called from his salary of two hundred Sestertia, or 1,600 l. a year. (See Salmasius ad Hist. August. p. 124.) Some critics suppose, that the bishop of Antioch had actually obtained such an office from Zenobia, while others consider it only as a figurative expression of his pomp and insolence.
• 127 1.173

  Simony was not unknown in those times; and the clergy sometimes bought what they intended to sell. It appears that the bishopric of Carthage was purchased by a wealthy matron, named Lucilla, for her servant Majorinus. The price was 400 Folles. (Monument. Antiq. ad calcem Optati, p. 263.) Every Follis con|tained 125 pieces of silver, and the whole sum may be computed at about 2,400 l.
• 128 1.174

  If we are desirous of extenuating the vices of Paul, we must suspect the assembled bishops of the East of publishing the most ma|licious calumnies in circular epistles addressed to all the churches of the empire (ap. Euseb. l. vii. c. 30.).
• * 1.175

  He is de|graded from the see of An|tioch.
• * 1.176

  A. D. 270.
• 129 1.177

  His heresy (like those of Noetus and Sabellius, in the same century) tended to confound the mysterious distinction of the divine persons. See Mosheim, p. 702, &c.
• * 1.178

  The sen|tence is executed by Aure|lian.
• * 1.179

  A. D. 274.
• 130 1.180

  Euseb. Hist. Ecclesiast. l. vii. c. 30. We are entirely in|debted to him for the curious story of Paul of Samosata.
• * 1.181

  Peace and prosperity of the church under Dio|cletian.
• 131 1.182

  The Aera of Martyrs, which is still in use among the Copts and the Abyssinians, must be reckoned from the 29th of August, A. D. 284.; as the beginning of the Egyptian year was nineteen days earlier than the real accession of Diocletian. See Dissertation preliminaire à l'Art de verifier les Dates.
• * 1.183

  A. D. 284—303.
• 132 1.184

  The expression of Lactantius (de M. P. c. 15.) "sacrificio pollui coegit," implies their antecedent conversion to the faith; but does not seem to justify the assertion of Mosheim (p. 912.), that they had been privately baptized.
• 133 1.185

  M. de Tillemont (Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. v. part i. p. 11, 12.) has quoted from the Spicilegium of Dom. Luc d'Acheri, a very curious instruction which bishop Theonas composed for the use of Lucian.
• 134 1.186

  Lactantius de M. P. c. 10.
• 135 1.187

  Eusebius, Hist. Ecclesiast. l. viii. c. 1. The reader who con|sults the original, will not accuse me of heightening the picture. Eusebius was about sixteen years of age at the accession of the empe|ror Diocletian.
• * 1.188

  Progress of zeal and superstiti|on among the Pa|gans.
• 136 1.189

  We might quote, among a great number of instances, the mysterious worship of Mythras, and the Taurobolia; the latter of which became fashionable in the time of the Antonines (See a Dis|sertation of M. de Boze, in the Memoires de l'Academie des Inscrip|tions, tom. ii. p. 443.). The romance of Apuleius is as full of devotion as of satire.
• 137 1.190

  The impostor Alexander very strongly recommended the oracle of Trophonius at Mallos, and those of Apollo, at Claros and Mi|letus (Lucian, tom. ii. p. 236. Edit. Reitz). The last of these, whose singular history would furnish a very curious episode, was con|sulted by Diocletian before he published his edicts of persecution (Lactantius, de M. P. c. 11).
• 138 1.191

  Besides the ancient stories of Pythagoras and Aristeas; the cures performed at the shrine of Aesculapius, and the fables related of Apollonius of Tyana, were frequently opposed to the miracles of Christ; though I agree with Dr. Lardner (see Testimonies, vol. iii. p. 253. 352.), that when Philostratus composed the life of Apol|lonius, he had no such intention.
• 139 1.192

  It is seriously to be lamented, that the Christian fathers, by acknowledging the supernatural, or, as they deem it, the infernal, part of Paganism, destroy with their own hands the great advantage which we might otherwise derive from the liberal concessions of our adversaries.
• 140 1.193

  Julian (p. 301. Edit. Spanheim) expresses a pious joy, that the providence of the gods had extinguished the impious sects, and for the most part destroyed the books of the Pyrrhonians and Epicu|reans, which had been very numerous, since Epicurus himself com|posed no less than 300 volumes. See Diogenes Laertius, l. x. c. 26.
• 141 1.194

  Cumque alios audiam mussitare indignanter, et dicere oppor|tere statui per Senatum, aboleantur ut haec scripta, quibus Christiana Religio comprobetur, et vetustatis opprimatur auctoritas. Arnobius adversus Gentes, l. iii. p. 103, 104. He adds very properly, Erroris convincite Ciceronem . . . nam intercipere scripta, et publicatam velle submergere lectionem, non est Deum defendere sed veritatis testificationem timere.
• 142 1.195

  Lactantius (Divin. Institut. l. v. c. 2, 3.) gives a very clear and spirited account of two of these philosophic adversaries of the faith. The large treatise of Porphyry against the Christians consisted of thirty books, and was composed in Sicily about the year 270.
• 143 1.196

  See Socrates, Hist. Ecclesiast. l. i. c. 9. and Codex Justinian, l. i. tit. i. l. 3.
• * 1.197

  Maximian and Gale|rius punish a few Christian soldiers.
• 144 1.198

  Eusebius, l. viii. c. 4. c. 17. He limits the number of military martyrs, by a remarkable expression 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, of which neither his Latin nor French translator have rendered the energy. Notwithstanding the authority of Eusebius, and the silence of Lactantius, Ambrose, Sulpicius, Orosius, &c. it has been long believed, that the Thebaean legion, consisting of 6000 Christians, suffered martyrdom, by the order of Maximian, in the valley of the Penine Alps. The story was first published about the middle of the vth century, by Eucherius, bishop of Lyons, who received it from certain persons, who received it from Isaac bishop of Geneva, who is said to have received it from Theodore bishop of Octodurum. The Abbey of St. Maurice still subsists, a rich monument of the credu|lity of Sigismond, king of Burgundy. See an excellent Dissertation in the xxxvith volume of the Bibliothéque Raisonnée, p. 427-454.
• 145 1.199

  See the Acta Sincera, p. 299. The accounts of his martyr|dom, and of that of Marcellus, bear every mark of truth and au|thenticity.
• 146 1.200

  Acta Sincera, p. 302.
• * 1.201

  Galerius prevails on Diocletian to begin a general persecuti|on.
• 147 1.202

  De M. P. c. 11. Lactantius (or whoever was the author of this little treatise) was, at that time, an inhabitant of Nicomedia; but it seems difficult to conceive how he could acquire so accurate a knowledge of what passed in the Imperial cabinet.
• 148 1.203

  The only circumstance which we can discover, is the devotion and jealousy of the mother of Galerius. She is described by Lac|tantius, as Deorum montium cultrix; mulier admodum superstitiosa. She had a great influence over her son, and was offended by the dis|regard of some of her Christian servants.
• * 1.204

  Demolition of the church of Nicome|dia. A. D. 303. 23d Feb.
• 149 1.205

  The worship and festival of the God Terminus are elegantly illustrated by M. de Boze, Mem. de l'Academie des Inscriptions, tom. i. p. 50.
• 150 1.206

  In our only MS. of Lactantius, we read profectus; but reason, and the authority of all the critics, allow us, instead of that word, which destroys the sense of the passage, to substitute praefectus.
• 151 1.207

  Lactantius de M. P. c. 12, gives a very lively picture of the destruction of the church.
• 152 1.208

  Mosheim (p. 922—926.), from many scattered passages of Lactantius and Eusebius, has collected a very just and accurate notion of this edict; though he sometimes deviates into conjecture and refinement.
• * 1.209

  The first edict a|gainst the Christians. 24th of February.
• 153 1.210

  Many ages afterwards, Edward I. practised, with great suc|cess, the same mode of persecution against the clergy of England. See Hume's History of England, vol. ii. p. 300, last 4 to edition.
• * 1.211

  Zeal and 〈…〉〈…〉 a Christian.
• 154 1.212

  Lactantius only calls him quidam, etsi non recte, magno ta|men animo, &c. c. 12. Eusebius (l. viii. c. 5.) adorns him with secular honours. Neither have condescended to mention his name; but the Greeks celebrate his memory under that of John. See Til|lemont, Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. v. part ii. p. 320.
• * 1.213

  Fire of the palace of Nicomedia imputed to the Chris|tians.
• 155 1.214

  Lactantius de M. P. c. 13, 14. Potentissimi quondam Eu|nuchi necati, per quos Palatium et ipse constabat. Eusebius (l. viii. c. 6.) mentions the cruel extortions of the eunuchs, Gorgonius and Dorotheus, and of Anthimius, bishop of Nicomedia; and both those writers describe, in a vague but tragical manner, the horrid scenes which were acted even in the Imperial presence.
• 156 1.215

  See Lactantius, Eusebius, and Constantine, ad Coetum Sanc|torum, c. 25. Eusebius confesses his ignorance of the cause of the fire.
• * 1.216

  Execution of the first edict.
• 157 1.217

  Tillemont, Memoires Ecclesiast. tom. v. part i. p. 43.
• 158 1.218

  See the Acta Sincera of Ruinart, p. 353; those of Foelix of Thibara, or Tibiur, appear much less corrupted than in the other editions, which afford a lively specimen of legendary licence.
• 159 1.219

  See the first book of Optatus of Milevis against the Donatists at Paris, 1700. Edit. Dupin. He lived under the reign of Valens.
• * 1.220

  Demoliti|on of the churches.
• 160 1.221

  The ancient monuments, published at the end of Optatus, p. 261, &c. describe, in a very circumstantial manner, the proceed|ings of the governors in the destruction of churches. They made a minute inventory of the plate, &c. which they found in them. That of the church of Cirta, in Numidia, is still extant. It consisted of two chalices of gold, and six of silver; six urns, one kettle, seven lamps, all likewise of silver; besides a large quantity of brass uten|sils, and wearing apparel.
• 161 1.222

  Lactantius (Institut. Divin. v. 11.) confines the calamity to the conventiculum, with its congregation. Eusebius (viii. 11.) extends it to a whole city, and introduces something very like a regular siege. His ancient Latin translator, Rufinus, adds the important circum|stance of the permission given to the inhabitants of retiring from thence. As Phrygia reached to the confines of Isauria, it is possible that the restless temper of those independent Barbarians may have contributed to this misfortune.
• * 1.223

  Subse|quent e|dicts.
• 162 1.224

  Eusebius, l. viii. c. 6. M. de Valois (with some probability) thinks that he has discovered the Syrian rebellion in an oration of Libanius; and that it was a rash attempt of the tribune Eugenius, who with only five hundred men seized Antioch, and might perhaps allure the Christians by the promise of religious toleration. From Eusebius (l. ix. c. 8.) as well as from Moses of Chorene (Hist. Armen. l. ii. c. 77, &c.) it may be inferred, that Christianity was already introduced into Armenia.
• 163 1.225

  See Mosheim, p. 938; the text of Eusebius very plainly shews, that the governors, whose powers were enlarged, not restrained, by the new laws, could punish with death the most obstinate Christians, as an example to their brethren.
• 164 1.226

  Athanasius, p. 833. ap. Tillemont, Mem. Ecclesiast. tom. v. part i. p. 90.
• * 1.227

  General idea of the persecu|tion,
• * 1.228

  In the wes|tern pro|vinces un|der Con|stantius and Con|stantine;
• 165 1.229

  Eusebius, l. viii. c. 13. Lactantius de M. P. c. 15. Dod|well (Dissertat. Cyprian. xi. 75.) represents them as inconsistent with each other. But the former evidently speaks of Constantius in the station of Caesar, and the latter of the same prince in the rank of Augustus.
• 166 1.230

  Datianus is mentioned in Gruter's Inscriptions, as having determined the limits between the territories of Pax Julia, and those of Ebora, both cities in the southern part of Lusitania. If we re|collect the neighbourhood of those places to Cape St. Vincent, we may suspect that the celebrated deacon and martyr of that name has been inaccurately assigned by Prudentius, &c. to Saragossa, or Va|lentia. See the pompous history of his sufferings, in the Memoires de Tillemont, tom. v. part ii. p. 58—85. Some critics are of opi|nion, that the department of Constantius, as Caesar, did not include Spain, which still continued under the immediate jurisdiction of Maximian.
• * 1.231

  in Italy and Africa, under Maximian and Seve|rus;
• 167 1.232

  Eusebius, l. viii. c. 11. Gruter, Inscript. p. 1171. No. 18. Rufinus has mistaken the office of Adauctus, as well as the place of his martyrdom.
• * 1.233

  under Maxenti|us;
• 168 1.234

  Eusebius, l. viii. c. 14. But as Maxentius was vanquished by Constantine, it suited the purpose of Lactantius to place his death among those of the persecutors.
• 169 1.235

  The epitaph of Marcellus is to be found in Gruter, Inscript. p. 1172. No. 3. and it contains all that we know of his history. Marcellinus and Marcellus, whose names follow in the list of popes, are supposed by many critics to be different persons; but the learned Abbé de Longuerre was convinced that they were one and the same. Veridicus rector lapsis quia crimina flere Praedixit miseris, fuit omnibus hostis amarus. Hinc furor, hinc odium; sequitur discordia, lites, Seditio, caedes; solvuntur foedera pacis. Crimen ob alterius, Christum qui in pace negavit Finibus expulsus patriae est feritate Tyranni. Haec breviter Damasus voluit comperta referre: Marcelli populus meritum cognoscere posset.

  We may observe that Damasus was made bishop of Rome, A. D. 366.
• 170 1.236

  Optatus contr. Donatist. l. i. c. 17, 18.
• 171 1.237

  The Acts of the Passion of St. Boniface, which abound in miracles and declamation, are published by Ruinart (p. 283-291.), both in Greek and Latin, from the authority of very ancient manu|scripts.
• * 1.238

  in Illyri|cum and the East, under Ga|lerius and Maximi|an.
• 172 1.239

  During the four first centuries, there exist few traces of either bishops or bishoprics in the western Illyricum. It has been thought probable that the primate of Milan extended his jurisdiction over Sirmium, the capital of that great province. See the Geographia Sacra of Charles de St. Paul, p. 68-76. with the observations of Lucas Holstenius.
• 173 1.240

  The viiith book of Eusebius, as well as the supplement con|cerning the martyrs of Palestine, principally relate to the persecution of Galerius and Maximin. The general lamentations with which Lactantius opens the vth book of his Divine Institutions, allude to their cruelty.
• * 1.241

  Galerius publishes an edict of toleration.
• 174 1.242

  Eusebius (l. viii. c. 17.) has given us a Greek version, and Lactantius (de M. P. c. 34.), the Latin original, of this memorable edict. Neither of these writers seems to recollect how directly it contradicts whatever they have just affirmed of the remorse and re|pentance of Galerius.
• * 1.243

  Peace of the church.
• 175 1.244

  Eusebius, l. ix. c. 1. He inserts the epistle of the praefect.
• * 1.245

  Maximin prepares to renew the persecuti|on.
• 176 1.246

  See Eusebius, l. viii. c. 14. l. ix. c. 2—8. Lactantius de M. P. c. 36. These writers agree in representing the arts of Maxi|min: but the former relates the execution of several martyrs, while the latter expressly affirms, occidi servos Dei vetuit.
• * 1.247

  End of the persecuti|ons.
• 177 1.248

  A few days before his death, he published a very ample edict of toleration, in which he imputes all the severities which the Chris|tians suffered to the judges and governors, who had misunderstood his intentions. See the Edict in Eusebius, l. ix. c. 10.
• * 1.249

  Probable account of the suffer|ings of the martyrs and con|fessors.
• 178 1.250

  Such is the fair deduction from two remarkable passages in Eusebius, l. viii. c. 2. and de Martyr. Palestin. c. 12. The pru|dence of the historian has exposed his own character to censure and suspicion. It was well known that he himself had been thrown into prison; and it was suggested that he had purchased his deliverance by some dishonourable compliance. The reproach was urged in his life-time, and even in his presence, at the council of Tyre. See Tillemont, Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. viii. part i. p. 67.
• 179 1.251

  The ancient, and perhaps authentic, account of the sufferings of Tarachus, and his companions (Acta Sincera Ruinart, p. 419—448), is filled with strong expressions of resentment and contempt, which could not fail of irritating the magistrate. The behaviour of Aedesius to Hierocles, praefect of Egypt, was still more extraordi|nary, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Euseb. de Martyr. Palestin. c. 5.
• 180 1.252

  Euseb. de Martyr. Palestin. c. 13.
• 181 1.253

  Augustin. Collat. Carthagin. Dei, iii. c. 13. ap. Tillemont, Memoires Ecclesiastiques, tom. v. part i. p. 46. The controversy with the Donatists has reflected some, though perhaps a partial, light on the history of the African church.
• * 1.254

  Number of martyrs.
• 182 1.255

  Eusebius de Martyr. Palestin. c. 13. He closes his narration, by assuring us, that these were the martyrdoms inflicted in Pales|tine, during the whole course of the persecution. The vth chapter of his viiith book, which relates to the province of Thebais in Egypt, may seem to contradict our moderate computation; but it will only lead us to admire the artful management of the historian. Chusing for the scene of the most exquisite cruelty, the most remote and se|questered country of the Roman empire, he relates, that in Thebais, from ten to one hundred persons had frequently suffered martyrdom in the same day. But when he proceeds to mention his own jour|ney into Egypt, his language insensibly becomes more cautious and moderate. Instead of a large, but definite number, he speaks of many Christians (〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉); and most artfully selects two ambiguous words (〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉), which may signify either what he had seen, or what he had heard; either the expectation, or the execution, of the punishment. Having thus provided a secure evasion, he com|mits the equivocal passage to his readers and translators; justly con|ceiving that their piety would induce them to prefer the most favour|able sense. There was perhaps some malice in the remark of Theo|dorus Metochita, that all who, like Eusebius, had been conversant with the Egyptians, delighted in an obscure and intricate style. (See Valesius ad loc.)
• 183 1.256

  When Palestine was divided into three, the praefecture of the East contained forty-eight provinces. As the ancient distinctions ofnations were long since abolished, the Romans distributed the pro|vinces, according to a general proportion of their extent and opu|lence.
• 184 1.257

  Ut gloriari possint nullum se innocentium peremisse, nam et ipse audivi aliquos gloriantes, quia administratio sua, in hâc parte, fuerit incruenta. Lactant. Institut. Divin. v. 11.
• * 1.258

  Conclusi|on.
• 185 1.259

  Grot. Annal. de Rebus Belgicis, l. i. p. 12. Edit. fol.
• 186 1.260

  Fra-Paolo (Istoria del Concilio Tridentino, l. iii.) reduces the number of Belgic martyrs to 50,000. In learning and moderation, Fra-Paolo was not inferior to Grotius. The priority of time gives some advantage to the evidence of the former, which he loses on the other hand by the distance of Venice from the Netherlands.