Member of the French Academy.
The fifteen or sixteen years of religious history comprised in this volume in the embryonic age of Christianity, are the years with which we are best acquainted. Jesus and the primitive Church at Jerusalem resemble the images of a far-off paradise, lost in a mysterious mist. On the other hand, the arrival of St Paul at Rome, in consequence of the step the Author of the Acts has taken in closing at that juncture his narrative, marks in the history of Christian origins the commencement of a profound darkness into which the bloody glare of the barbarous feasts of Nero, and the thunders of the Apocalypse, cast only a few gleams. In particular, the death of the Apostles is enveloped in an impenetrable obscurity. On the contrary, the era of the missions of St Paul, especially of the second mission and the third, is known to us through documents of the greatest value. The Acts, till then so legendary, become suddenly quite authentic; the last chapters, composed in part of the narrative of an eye-witness, are the sole complete historical writings which we have of the early times of Christianity. In fine, those years, through a privilege very rare in similar circumstances, provide us with documents, the dates of which are absolutely authentic, and a series of letters, the most important of which have withstood all the tests of criticism, and which have never been subjected to interpolations.
In the introduction to the preceding volume, we have made an examination of the Book of Acts. We must now discuss seriatim the different epistles which bear the name of St Paul. The Apostle informs us himself, that even during his lifetime there were in circulation in his name several spurious letters, and he often took precautions to prevent frauds. We are, therefore, only carrying out his intentions in subjecting the writings which have been put forth as his to a rigorous censorship.
There are in the New Testament fourteen of such epistles,
which it will be necessary at the outset to divide into two distinct categories.
Thirteen of these writings bear in the text of the letter the name of the
Apostle. In other words, these letters profess to be the works of
The thirteen epistles which profess to belong to Paul may, in regard to authenticity, be ranged into five classes:—
1. Epistles incontestable and uncontested. These are the Epistles to the Galatians, the two Epistles to the Corinthians, and the Epistle to the Romans.
2. Epistles that are undoubted, although some objections have been taken to them. These are the two Epistles to the Thessalonians, and the Epistle to the Philippians.
3. Epistles of a probable authenticity, although grave objections have been taken to them. This is the Epistle to the Colossians, to which is annexed the note to Philemon
4. Epistle doubtful. This is the epistle addressed to the Ephesians.
5. Epistles false. These are the two Epistles to Timothy, and the Epistle to Titus.
We have nothing to remark here in regard to the epistles of the first category; the most severe critics, such as Christian Baur, accept them reservedly. We shall hardly insist on discussing the epistles of the second class either. The difficulties which certain modern writers have raised against them, are merely those slight suspicions which it is the duty of the critic to point out frankly, but without being determined by them when stronger reasons should sway him. Now, these three epistles have a character of authenticity which outweighs every other consideration. The only serious difficulty which has been raised against the Epistles to the Thessalonians, is deduced from the theory of the Anti-Christ appended in the second chapter of the second Epistle to the Thessalonians,—a theory which seems identical with that of the Apocalypse, and which consequently assumed Nero to be dead when the books were written. But that objection permits of solution, as we shall see in the course of the present volume. The author of the Apocalypse only applied to his times an assemblage of ideas, one part of which went back even to the origins of Christian belief, while the other part had reference to the times of Caligula.
The Epistle to the Colossians has been subjected to a much
more serious fire of objection.. It is undoubted that the language used in that
epistle to express the part played by Jesus in the bosom of the divinity, as
creator and prototype of all creation, trenches strongly on the language of
certain other epistles, and seems to approach in style the writings attributed to
John. In rending such passages one believes oneself to be in the full swing of
Gnosticism. The language of the Epistle to the Colossians is far removed from
that of the undoubted epistles. The vocabulary is a little different; the style
is more emphatic and more
There is, nevertheless, nothing about all this which is
decisive. If the Epistle to the Colossians is, as we believe it to be, the work
of Paul, it was written during the last days of the life of the Apostle, at a
date when his biography is very obscure. We shall show later on that it is quite
admissible, that the theology of St Paul, which, from the Epistles to the
Thessalonians to the Epistle to the Romans, is so strongly developed, was
developed still further in the interval between the Epistle to the Romans and
that of his death. We shall show likewise, that the most energetic expressions
of the Epistle to the Colossians were only a short advance upon those of the
anterior epistles. St Paul was one of those men who, through their natural bent
of mind, have a tendency to pass from one order of ideas to another, even though
their style and their manner of perception present sentiments the most fixed.
The taint of Gnosticism which is to be found in the Epistle to the Colossians is
encountered, though less articulated in the other writings of the New Testament,
in the Apocalypse, and in the Epistle to the Hebrews. In place of rejecting some
passages of the New Testament in which are to be found traces of Gnosticism, we
must sometimes reason inversely, and seek out in these passages the origin of
the gnostic ideas which prevailed in the Second Century. We may, in a sense,
even say, that these ideas were anterior to Christianity, and that nascent
Christianity borrowed more than once from Gnosticism. In a
Finally, we shell soon show that the so-called Epistle to the Ephesian is in part copied from the Epistle to the Colossians, which leads to the supposition, that the compiler of the Epistle to the Ephesians firmly regarded the Epistle to the Colossians as an original apostolic. Note, also, that Marcion, who is in general so well informed in his criticism on the writings of Paul,—Marcion who so justly rejected the Epistles to Titus and to Timothy,—admits unreservedly in his collection the two epistles of which we have just been speaking.
Infinitely more strong are the objection. which can be raised against the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians. And first of all, note that this designation is nothing if not certain. The epistle has absolutely no seal of circumstance; it is addressed to no one in particular; those to whom it was addressed occupied for the moment a smaller place in the thoughts of Paul than his other correspondents. Is it admissible that Paul could have written to a Church with which he had so intimate relations, without saluting anybody, without conveying to the brethren the salutation of the brethren with whom they were acquainted, and particularly Timothy, without addressing to his disciples some counsel, without reminding them of anterior relations, and without the composition presenting any of those peculiar features which constitute the most authentic character of the other epistles?
The composition is addressed to converted Pagans; now the
Church at Ephesus was, in great part, Judæo-Christian. When we remember with
what eagerness Paul in all his epistles seized on and invented pretexts for
speaking of his ministry and of his preaching, we experience a lively surprise
in seeing him throughout the course of a letter addressed to these same Ephesians—“that for the space of three years
he did not cease, night and day, to exhort with tears”—lose every opportunity presented to him of reminding them of his
sojourn amongst them; in seeing him, I say, obstinately confining himself to
abstract philosophy, or, what is more singular, to the lifeless formulas least
suited to the growth of the first Church. How different it is in the Epistles to
the Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, and Thessalonians, even
in the Epistle to those Colossians, whom, however, the
Apostle even only knew indirectly. The Epistle to the Romans is the only one
which in this respect resembles somewhat the epistles in question. Like them,
the Epistle to the Romans is a complete doctrinal expos’; whilst in regard to
the epistles addressed to those readers who had received from him the Gospel,
Paul supposes always the basis of his teaching to be known, and contents himself with insisting upon some point which is related to
The reading of the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians suffices, therefore, to awaken the suspicion that the letter in question had not been addressed to the Church at Ephesus. The evidence furnished by the manuscripts changes these suspicions into certainty. The words ἐν Ἐφέσῳ, in the first verse, were introduced about the end of the fourth century. The Vatican manuscript, and the Codex Sinaiticus, both of the fourth century, and whose authority, at least, when they are in accord, are more important than that of all the other manuscripts together, do not contain these words. A Vienne manuscript, the one which is designated in the collection of the Epistles of Paul by the figures 67, of the eleventh or twelfth centuries, presents them erased. St Basil maintains that the ancient manuscripts which he was able to consult did not have these word. Finally, the testimony of the third century proves that at that epoch, the existence of the said words in the first verse was unknown. If then everybody believed that the epistle of which we are speaking had been addressed to the Ephesians, it was in virtue of the title, and not in virtue of the superscription. A man who, in spite of the a priori dogmatic sprit which is often carried into the correction of the holy books, had frequently flashes of true criticism, Marcion (about 150 A.D.), contended that the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians was the Epistle to the Laodicæans, of whom St Paul speaks in the Epistle to the Colossians. That which appears the most certain is, that the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians was not addressed to any special Church, and that if it belongs to St Paul, it is a simple circular letter intended for the churches in Asia which were composed of converted Pagans. The superscription of these letters, of which there are several copies, might present, according to the words τοῖς οὖσιν, a blank destined to receive the name of the Church to which it was addressed. Perhaps the Church at Ephesus possessed one of these copies of which the compiler of the letters of Paul availed himself. The fact of finding one such copy at Ephesus appeared to him a sufficient reason for writing at the head Πρὸς Ἐφεσίους. As it was omitted at an early date to preserve a blank after οὖσιν, the superscription became: τοῖς αγίοις τοῖς οὖσιν, χαὶ πιστοῖς, a rather unsatisfactory reading which may have been rectified in the fourth century, by inserting after οὖσιν, in conformity with the title, the words ἐν Ἐφέσῳ.
This doubt in regard to the recipients of the so-called Epistle
to the Ephesians might be very readily reconciled with its authenticity; but
critical reflection upon this second point excites new suspicion. One fact which
confronts us at the very threshold, is the resemblance which is to be remarked
between the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians and the Epistle to the Colossians.
The two epistles are copies of one another. Which is the epistle that has served
for the original, and which is to be considered as an imitation? It looks
indeed as if it were the Epistle to the Colossians which has served for the
original, and that it is the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians which is the imitation. The second epistle is the most
This is not altogether impossible; but it is not very probable. The improbability of such a conception is diminished if we suppose that Paul delegated that task to one of his disciples. Perhaps Timothy, for example, may have taken the Epistle to the Colossians so as to apply it, and to make of it a general composition which could be addressed to all the Churches of Asia. It is difficult to speak with assurance on this point: for it is also supposable that the epistle may have been written after the death of Paul, at an epoch when people set about seeking out apostolic writings, and when, seeing the small number of such writings, people were not over scrupulous in producing new ones—imitating, assimilating, copying, and diluting writings previously held to be apostolic. Thus, the second general Epistle of Peter was manufactured out of the first epistle, and out of the Epistle of Jude. It is possible that the so-called epistle to the Ephesians owed its origin to the same process. The objections which have been raised against the Epistle to the Colossians, both as regards language and doctrines, are addressed principally to the latter. The Epistle to the Ephesians, in respect of style, is sensibly different from the undisputed epistles; it contains favourite expressions, gradations which only belong to it; words foreign to the ordinary language of Paul, some of which are to be found in the Epistles to Timothy, to Titus, and to the Hebrews. The sentences are diffuse, feeble, and loaded with useless words and repetition, entangled with frivolous incidents, full of pleonasms and of encumbrances. The same difference is apparent in the ideas. In the so-called Epistle to the Ephesians Gnosticism is plainly manifest; the idea of the Church conceived as a living organism, is developed in it in such a way as to carry the mind to the years 70 or 80; the exegesis is foreign to the custom of Paul; the manner in which he speaks of the “holy Apostles” surprises one; the theory of marriage is different from that which Paul expounded to the Corinthians.
On the other hand, it must be said that the aim and the
interest the counterfeiter might have had in composing this piece is not altogether apparent, inasmuch as it adds little to the Epistle to the Colossians.
It seems, moreover, that a forger would have written a letter plainly addressed and circumstantial, as was the case with the Epistles
There remain the two Epistles to Timothy and the Epistle to
Titus. The authenticity of these three epistles presents some insurmountable
difficulties. I regard them as apocryphal productions. To prove this, I would
point out that the language of the three writings is not that of Paul. I would
take note of a series of turns and expressions either exclusively peculiar, or
particularly dear to the author, which being characteristic, ought to be found
in similar proportions in the other epistles of Paul, or, at least, in the
proportion desired. Other expressions, which bear in a kind of way the signature of Paul, are lacking in
The first Epistle to Timothy in the one which presents the
fewest individual traits, and nevertheless, did it stand alone, we would not be
able to find in it an incident in the life of Paul. Paul, when he was reputed to
have written this epistle, had, for a long time, left Timothy, for he had not
written to him since he went away (
Two hypotheses have been proposed in order to include this
epistle in the contexture of the life of Paul, each as those which are furnished
by the Acts, and confirmed by the certain epistles. According to the one, the
journey from Ephesus into Macedonia, which separated Paul and Timothy, is the
one which is narrated in
In order to avoid this difficulty, and above all to explain
the intention announced by Paul of returning to Ephesus, some have had recourse
to another explanation. It is supposed that the journey from Macedonia,
mentioned in the verse (
The second Epistle to Timothy furnishes many more facts
than the first. The Apostle is evidently in prison at Rome (
This simple analysis suffices to point out some strange
incoherencies. The Apostle is at Rome; he has just made a journey of the
Archipelago, he gives to Timothy the particulars of it, as though he had not
written to him since the journey. In the same letter he speaks to him of his
prison and of his trial. Will any one say that this journey into the Archipelago
was the journey of Paul the captive, narrated in the Acts? But in this journey
Paul did not traverse the Archipelago, neither could he go to Miletum, nor to
Troas, nor, above all, to Corinth, since at the elevation of Cnide, the tempest
drives the vessels upon Crete, then upon Malta. Will any one say that the voyage
in question was the last voyage of St Paul, a free man, his return voyage to
Jerusalem in company with the deputies charged with accusing him? But Timothy
was in that voyage, at least from Macedonia (
When Paul wrote the Epistle to Titus, the latter was in the
island of Crete (
And here, again, with every phrase, difficulties present
themselves. Not a word for the faithful Cretians—nothing but hurtful and
unbefitting severity (
If it is wished to connect this letter with the period in
the life of Paul known through the Acts, the same difficulties are experienced as in those
Another hypothesis has been tried. It has been attempted to connect the Epistle to Titus and the Epistle to Timothy the one with the other. It has been premised that these two epistles were the results of the episodical voyage, which St Paul might have composed during his sojourn at Ephesus. No doubt this hypothesis may go a very little way to explain the difficulties in the first to Timothy, but we most investigate it to see whether the Epistle to Titus can lend it any support.
Paul was at Ephesus for a year or two. During the summer he formed the project of making an apostolic tour, of which the Acts has made no mention. He left Timothy at Ephesus, and took with him Titus and the two Ephesians, Artemas and Tychicus. He went first into Macedonia, then from there to Crete, where he founded several churches. He left Titus in the island, charging him to continue his work, and to repair to Corinth with Artemas and Tychicus. He made there the acquaintance of Apollos, whom he had not seen before, and who was on the point of setting out for Ephesus. He begged Apollos to go a little way out of his straight route so as to pass through Crete, and to carry to Titus the epistle which has been preserved. His plan at that moment was to go into Epirus, and to pass the winter at Nicopolis. He sends to inform Titus of that plan, announces to him that he will see again Artemas and Tychicus in Crete, and begs him, as soon as he shall have seen them, to come and rejoin him at Nicopolis. Paul then made his journey into Epirus. He wrote from Epirus the first to Timothy, and charged Artemas and Timothy to take it with them; he enjoined them likewise to pass through Crete, so as to give at the same time the notice to Titus to come and join him at Nicopolis. Titus repaired to Nicopolis, and the Apostle and his disciple returned together to Ephesus.
With this hypothesis we can in a fashion give an account of
the circumstances contained in the Epistle to Titus, and the first to Timothy.
Nay, more, we obtain two apparent advantages by it. It serves to explain the
passages of the Epistles to the Corinthians, from which it appears, at first
glance, to result that St Paul, in going to Corinth at the end of his long
sojourn at Ephesus, went there for the third rime (
First, this pretended episodical voyage, so short that the
author of the Acts did not judge it proper to speak of it, must have been very considerable,
Some exegites think to remove the difficulty by modifying a
little the journey required by this hypothesis. According to them, Paul
went from Epirus into Crete, from there to Corinth, then to Nicopolis, then to
Macedonia. The fatal verse,
All attempts to include the Epistles to
Titus and Timothy in the work of the life of St Paul traced by the Acts are
tainted with insoluble contradictions. The authentic epistles of St Paul
explain, suppose, and permeate one another. The three epistles in question may
be compared to a small round which has been punched out by a
All this, it most be owned, resembles much the artificial
defence of an accused person who, in order to answer objections, is driven to
vent an assemblage of facts which have no connection with anything that is
known. These isolated hypotheses, without either support or force, are in the
eyes of the law a sign of culpability, in criticism the sign of apocryphy. Even
admitting the possibility of that new voyage to the Archipelago, it would take
no end of pains to bring into accord the facts related in the three epistles;
these goings and comings are susceptible of very little proof. But such a
discussion is useless. It is evident, in fact, that the author of the second to
Timothy knew well how to speak of the captivity mentioned in the Acts, and to
which allusion is made in the Epistles to the Philippians, Colossians, and
Philemon. The similarity of
The letters to Timothy and to Titus are therefore refuted by the whole contexture of the biography of Paul. When they are forced into it by one party, they are thrust out of it by another party. Even if an express period in the life of the Apostle were created for them, the result would not be any more satisfactory. These epistles refute themselves; they are full of contradictions; the Acts and the authentic epistles would be lost if we could not succeed in creating another hypothesis to uphold the epistles of which we are speaking. And may it not be alleged that a forger could not have thrown a little more sprightliness into these contradictions? Demo of Corinth, in the second century, has a theory not less chimerical in regard to the journeys of St Paul, inasmuch as he makes him arrive at Corinth and to depart from Corinth for Rome in the company of St Peter—a thing utterly impossible. There is no doubt that the three epistles in question were fabricated at a period when the Acts had not yet gained full authority. Later, the canvas of the Acts was embellished, like as did the author of the fable of Theckla about the year 200. The author of our epistles knew the names of the principal disciples of St Paul; he had read several of his epistles; he had formed a vague idea of his journeyings; justly enough, he is struck by the multitude of disciples which surrounded Paul, and whom he sends out as messengers in every direction. But the details which he has invented are false and inconsistent: they always represent Timothy as being a young man; the imperfect notion he has of a journey Paul made into Crete makes him believe that Paul had founded churches there. The personnel which he introduces into the three epistles is peculiarly Ephesian; we are tempted at moments to think that the desire to exalt certain families of Ephesus and to depreciate some others belonging to it was not altogether singular in a fabricator.
The three epistles in question, were they apocryphal from one end to the other? or were they made use of for the purpose of composing authentic letters addressed to Titus and to Timothy, that they should have been diluted, in a sense, to conform with the ideas of the times, and with the intention of leading the authority of the apostles to the developments which the ecclesiastical hierarchy took? It is this that is difficult to decide. Perhaps, in certain parts, at the close of the second to Timothy, for example, letters bearing different dates have been mixed up; but even then it must be admitted that the forger has given himself plenty of scope. Indeed, one consequence which is derived from what precedes, is that the three epistles are sisters, that, to speak accurately, they are one and the same work, and that no distinction can be drawn between them in anything that regards their authenticity.
It is quite otherwise with the question of finding out
whether some of the data of the second to Timothy (for example,
The time of the composition of these three epistles may be placed about the year 96 to 100. Theophilus of Antioch (about the year 170) cited them expressly. Irenæus, Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian admitted them also. Marcion, on the contrary, rejected them, or did not know them. The allusions which are believed to have been found in the epistles attributed to Clement of Rome, to Ignatius, to Polycarp, are doubtful. There were floating about at that epoch a certain number of hemitetic phrases, all facts; the presence of those phrases in a writing does not prove that the author has borrowed them directly from some other writing in which he has found them. The agreements which we remark between certain expressions of Hegesippe and certain passages in the epistles in question, are singular; one does not know what consequence to draw from them, for if, in those expressions, Hegesippe has in his eye the first Epistle to Timothy, it would seem that he regarded it as a writing posterior to the death of the Apostles. However that may be, it is clear that when he had collected the letters of Paul, the letters to Titus and to Timothy, he enjoyed full authority. Where were they composed? Probably at Ephesus; probably at Rome. The partisans of this second hypothesis may say that, in the East, people do not commit errors which are remarked on. Their style bristles with Latinisms. The intention which prompted the writing, to wit, the desire of augmenting the force of the hierarchical principle, and of the authority of the Church, in presenting a model of piety, of docility, of “ecclesiastical spirit,” traced by the Apostle himself, is altogether in harmony with what we know of the character of the Roman Church from the first century.
It only remains for us now to speak of the Epistle to the
Hebrews. As we have already said, that epistle does not belong to Paul; but it
ought not to be put in the same category as the two epistles to Timothy and the
one to Titus, the author not seeking to pass off his work for a writing of Paul.
What is the value of the opinion which is established in the Church, and
according to which Paul is the author of this maudlin epistle? A study of the
manuscripts, an examination of the ecclesiastical tradition, and a searching
criticism of the work itself, will
Alexandria was the centre where the opinion was formed that the Epistle to the Hebrews should be intercalated in the series of the letters of Paul. Towards the middle of the third century Dionysius of Alexandria appeared to entertain no doubt as to Paul being its author. From that time this became the opinion most generally accepted in the East; nevertheless, protestations did not cease to make themselves heard. The Latins especially protested vigorously; particularly the Roman Church, who maintained that the epistle did not belong to Paul. Eusebius hesitated much, and had recourse to the hypothesis of Clement of Alexandria and of Origen; he was inclined to believe that the epistle had been composed in Hebrew by Paul, and translated by Clement of Rome. St Jerome and St Augustine have been at pains to conceal their doubts, and rarely cite that part of the canon without a reservation. Divers documents insist always in giving as the author of the work either Luke, Barnabas, or Clement. The ancient manuscripts of Latin production sufficed, as we have seen, to attest the repugnance which the West experienced when this epistle was put forward as a work of Paul’s. It is clear that when we have made, if we may so speak, the editio princeps of the letters of Paul, the number of letters must be fixed at thirteen. People were no doubt accustomed very early to place after the thirteen epistles the Epistle to the Hebrews—an anonymous apostolic writing, whose ideas approached in some respects those contained in the writings of Paul. Hence, one had only a step to take to arrive at the conclusion that the Epistle to the Hebrew’s belonged to the Apostle. Everything induces the belief that this induction was made at Alexandria, that is to say, in a Church relatively modern as compared with the Churches of Syria, Asia, Greece, and Rome. Such an induction is of no value in criticism, if the clear, intrinsic proofs are perverted by another party in attributing the epistle in question to the Apostle Paul.
Now, this is in reality what has taken place. Clement of
Alexandria and Origen, very good judges indeed of the Greek style, could not find
in our epistle any semblance of the style of Paul. St Jerome is of the same
opinion; the fathers of the Latin Church who refused to credit that the epistle
was Paul’s,—all gave the some reason for their doubts; propter styli sermonis
que distantiam. This is an excellent reason. The style of the Epistle
to the Hebrews is, in a word,
different from that of Paul; it is more oratorical, more periodic; the diction
contains a number of idiomatic expressions. The fundamental basis of the
thoughts is not far removed from the opinions of Paul, especially Paul as a
captive; but the exposition and the exegesis are quite distinct. There is no
nominal superscription, which was contrary to the usage of the Apostle;
characteristics which one always expects to find in an epistle of Paul’s are wanting in the former. The exegesis
is particularly allegorical, and resembles much more that of Philo than that of
Paul. The author has imbibed the Alexandrian culture. He only makes use of the
version called the Septuagint; from the text of this he adduces reasons which
exhibit a complete ignorance of Hebrew; his method of
The Epistle to the Hebrews was not, therefore, written by
St Paul. By whom and where was it written? and to whom was it addressed? We
shall examine all these points in our fourth volume. For the present, the simple
date of a writing so important interests us. Now, this date has been determined
with sufficient decision. The Epistle to the Hebrews was, according to all
probability, anterior to the year 70, inasmuch as the Levitical service of the
Temple is represented in it as being regularly, and without interruption,
continued. On the other hand, at
After having discussed the authenticity, it remains now for
us to discuss the integrity of the epistles of Paul. The authentic epistles
have never been interpolated. The style of the Apostle was so individual, and so
original, that every addition would drop off from the body of the text by reason
of its own inertness. In the labour of publication which took place when the
epistles were collected, there were, nevertheless, some operations, the import
of which must be taken into account. The principle upon which the compilers
proceeded appears to have been; 1st, to add nothing to the text; 2d, to reject
nothing which they believed to have been dictated or written by the Apostle;
3d, to avoid repetitions which could not fail, especially in the circular
letters, but contain identical statements. In like manner, the compilers would
appear to have followed a system of patching up, or of intercalating, the aim
of which seems to have been to save some portions which would otherwise have
been lost. Thus the passage (
In reading the Epistle to the Romans, after quitting
The portion,
If we study in detail the persons he salutes, we shall
discover still more evidence that this page of salutations was never addressed
to the Church at Rome. Amongst them we find no persons that we know who formed
part of the Church at Rome, and we find amongst them many persons who assuredly
never belonged to it. In the first line we encounter Aquila and Priscilla. It is
universally admitted that only a few months elapsed between the compilation of
the first chapter of the Corinthians and the compilation of the Epistle to the
Romans. Now, when Paul wrote the first chapter to the Corinthians, Aquila and
Priscilla were at Ephesus. In the interval, that apostolic couple were able, it
is said, to set out for Rome. This is very singular. Aquila and Priscilla were
of the party which was at first driven from Rome by an edict; we find them
afterwards at Corinth, then at Ephesus; they return to Rome without their
sentence of expulsion having been revoked, on the morrow of the day when Paul
had just said adieu to them at Ephesus. This is to attribute to them a life much
too nomadic; it is the accumulation of improbabilities. Let as add, that the
author of the second apocryphal epistle of Paul to Timothy supposes Aquila and
Priscilla to be at Ephesus, which proves that tradition has located them there.
The little Roman martyrology (the source of posterior compilations) has a
memorandum, of date the 8th July—“in Asia Minori, Aquilæ et Priscillæ uxoris ejus.” This is not all.
At
The verses,
The
The
St Paul, advancing in his career, had acquired a taste for
encyclical epistles, designed to be read in several churches. We presume that
the intention of the Epistle to the Romans was an encyclical of this kind. St
Paul, when he had reached his full maturity, addressed it to the most important
churches, at least to three of them, and, as an exception, addressed it also to
the Church of Rome. The four endings falling at verses,
We must not omit the testimony of an important manuscript.
The Codex Bœrnerianus omits the name of Rome in the
I regret that I have not been able to find room in the
present book to give an account of the last days of the life of St Paul: to have
done that, it would have been necessary to largely increase the size of this
volume. Moreover, the Third Book would have thus lost somewhat of the historical
solidity which characterises it. After the arrival of Paul at Rome, in fact, we
cease to tread on the ground of incontestable data; we begin to grope in the
obscurity of legends and of apocryphal
Journeying from Antioch, Paul and Barnabas, accompanied by John-Mark, reached Seleucia. The distance from Antioch to the latter city is a short day’s journey. The route follows at a distance the right bank of the Orontes, winding its way over the outermost slopes of the mountains of Pieria, and crossing by fords the numerous streams which descend from the heights. On all sides there are copses of myrtles, arbutus, laurels, green oaks; while prosperous villages are perched upon the sharply-cut ridges of the mountains. To the left, the plain of Orontes unfolds to view its splendid cultivation. On the south, the wooded summits of the mountains of Daphne bound the horizon. We are now beyond the borders of Syria. We stand on soil classical, smiling, fertile, and civilised. Each name recalls the powerful Greek colony which gave to these regions so high a historical importance, and which established there a centre of opposition that sometimes assumed a violent form against the Semitic genius.
Seleucia was the port of Antioch, and the chief northern
outlet of Syria towards the west. The city was situated partly in the plain and
partly on
Paul had already travelled much in order to spread the name of Jesus. He had been for seven years a Christian, and not for a single day had his ardent conviction been lulled to rest. His departure from Antioch with Barnabas, marked, however, a decisive change in his career. He began then that Apostolic life, in which he displayed unexampled activity, and an unheard-of degree of ardour and of passion. Travelling was then very difficult, when it was not done by sea; for carriage roads and vehicles hardly existed. This is why the propagation of Christianity made its way along the banks of the large rivers. Pozzuoli and Lyons were Christianised when a multitude of towns in the vicinity of the cradle of Christianity had not heard tell of Jesus.
Paul, it seems, journeyed almost always on foot existing
doubtless on bread, vegetables, and milk. What a life of privations and of
trials is that of a wandering devotee! The police were negligent or brutal.
Seven times was Paul put in chains. Hence, he preferred, when practicable, to
travel by water. Certainly, when it is calm, these seas are delightful; but
they have also suddenly their foolish caprices; the ship may run aground in the
sand, and all that one can do is to seize on a plank. There were perils
everywhere. “In labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in
prisons more frequent, in death oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty
stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I
suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep. In journeyings
often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own
countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the
wilderness, in perils on the sea, in perils among false brethren. In weariness
and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in
cold and nakedness: I have known all” (
In almost all his journeys Paul had companions; but he
systematically refused the assistance from which the other Apostles, Peter, in
particular, drew much consolation and succour—I mean, a companion in his
Apostolic ministry, and in his labours. His aversion to marriage proceeded from
a feeling of delicacy. He did not wish to burden the Church with the support of
two persons. Barnabas followed the same rule. Paul reverted often to that
fact—he cost the Churches nothing. He deemed it perfectly just that the Apostle
should live upon the community,—that the catechist should share everything in
common with the catechumen; but he was sensitive on the point; he had no
desire to make capital out of that which was legitimate. His constant practice,
with one single exception, was to earn his subsistence by his own labour. With
Paul this was a question of morals and of good example; for one of his maxims
was: “That if any one would not work, neither should he eat” (
Such a mode of life, which has become impossible in our modern
society for any but a working man, was easy in societies in which either
religious confraternities
These little coteries constituted excellent mediums for the propagation of doctrines. Each knew his neighbour well, each closely watched the other; nothing could be further removed from the vulgar freedom of our modern societies, in which men come in contact with each other so little. The divisions of parties in a city were always made according to religion, when politics was not the paramount consideration. A religious question falling into one of these faithful Israelitish communities, set everything on fire, and settled schisms and strifes. Most frequently a religious question was but a firebrand which was eagerly laid hold of by reason of previous hatreds—a pretext which was seized upon for reckoning up and denouncing one another.
The establishment of Christianity was not discussed outside
the synagogues, with which latter the coasts of the Mediterranean were already
covered, when Paul and the other Apostles set out upon their missions. These
synagogues had ordinarily little to distinguish them; they were like the other
houses, forming with the quarter of which they were the centre and link a small
vicus (village) or aingiport (small alley). One thing distinguished these
quarters; this was the absence of ornaments of sculpture vivant, which
necessitated recourse for decoration to expedients, crude, pronounced, and
false. But that which more than anything else designated the Jewish quarter to
new-comers disembarking at the port of Seleucia or Cæsarea, was the type of
race—young women decked in gaudy colours, white, red and green, without medium
tints; matrons with pleasing figures, rosy cheeks, slightly embonpoint, with
kindly, maternal eyes. Having landed, and received a warm welcome, the Apostles
awaited the Sabbath. They then betook themselves to the synagogue. It was a
custom, when a stranger appeared intelligent or eager to make himself know,
This proselytism, as we see,. was confined to the towns. The first apostles of Christianity did not preach in country places. The countryman (paganus) was the last to embrace Christianity. The local patois, which the Greek had not been able to root out in the country districts, was in part the cause of this. To tell the truth, the peasant living outside the towns, was quite a rare thing in the country, at the time when Christianity first began to spread. The organisation of that Apostolic religion, consisting of assemblies (ecclesia), was essentially urban. Islamism, in like manner, is also par excellence a religion of the town. It is not complete without its grand mosques, its schools, its ulemas (doctors), its muezzins (the callers to prayers).
The gaiety, the sprightliness of heart, which these
evangelical odysseys breathed, were something new, original, and charming. The
Acts of the Apostles,
The first point at which the three missionaries touched, was the island of Cyprus, an ancient, mixed settlement where the Grecian race and the Phœnician race, planted at first side by side, had ended by nearly exterminating one another. It was the native country of Barnabas, and that circumstance doubtless had much to do in determining the direction in which the mission should make its first advance. Cyprus had already received the seeds of the Christian faith; in any case, the new religion embraced several Cypriotes in its fold. The number of Jewries there was considerable. It should, however, be remembered that the whole circle of Seleucia, Tarsus, and Cyprus was by no means extensive; and the small group of Jews scattered over those points, represented nearly what would be the parent families established at St Brieuc, Saint-Malo, and Jersey. Paul and Barnabas, then, set out for the countries with which they were already more or less familiar.
The Apostolic band disembarked at the ancient port of
Salamis. They traversed the whole island from east to west, inclining towards
the south, and probably following the sea coast. It was the most Phœnician
portion of the island, containing the towns of Citium, Amathontus, and Paphos,
old Semitic
The conversion of a Roman of that order at this epoch is a
thing absolutely inadmissible. Paul, doubtless, took for faith the
manifestations of interest which Sergius evinced towards him; mayhap even he
mistook irony for favour. The Orientals do not understand irony. Their maxim,
moreover, is that he who is not for them is against them. The curiosity
exhibited by Sergius Paulus was in the eyes of the missionaries regarded as a
favourable disposition. Like many other Romans, Paulus might be very credulous.
Probably the sorceries to which Paul and
What is probable is that he had for the mission a
benevolent regard; hence the mission retained for him the remembrance of a wise
and good man. The supposition of Saint Jerome, according to whom Saul should
have taken from Sergius Paulus his name of Paul, is but mere conjecture: we
must not say, however, that that conjecture is improbable. It was
We do not know how long this Cyprus mission lasted. The
mission possessed, evidently, no great importance, inasmuch as Paul never speaks
of it in his epistles; and as he never dreamt of seeing again the churches that
he had founded in the island, probably he regarded the latter as belonging to
Barnabas more than to himself. The first essay of apostolic journeying, in any
case, was decisive in the career of Paul. From that time he assumed the tone of
master: till then he had been as a subordinate of Barnabas. The latter had been
longer in the Church: he had been his introducer and his guarantor; people were
more certain of Barnabas. In the course of this mission the rôles were
exchanged. The talent of Paul for preaching necessitated that the office of
speaking should devolve almost entirely on him. Henceforward, Barnabas was no
more than a companion of Paul,—one of his suite. With admirable self-abnegation,
that truly holy man lent himself to everything, and left everything to his
intrepid friend, whose superiority he recognised. Not so with John-Mark.
Disagreements, which soon ended in a rupture, broke out between him and Paul. We
do not know the cause of them. Probably the teachings of Paul as to the
relations of the Jews
Nevertheless, it is not probable that Paul, from this time, either took, or allowed himself to be given, the title of Apostle. Up till now, that title had only been borne by the Twelve of Jerusalem; it was not considered as transferable; it was believed that Jesus alone had the power to bestow it. Perhaps Paul had already often said to himself that he also had received it directly from Jesus, in his vision on the road to Damascus; but he had not yet openly arrogated to himself so lofty a pretension. It required the grossest provocations of his enemies to constrain him to an act which at first he would have regarded as one of temerity.
The mission, satisfied with what it had accomplished at
Cyprus, resolved to attack the neighbouring coast of Asia Minor. Alone amongst
the provinces of that country, Cilicia had heard the new gospel, and possessed
churches. The geographical region that we call Asia Minor was by no means
united. It was composed of peoples greatly diverse both as regards race and
social status. The western part and the entire coast were embraced, from a remote
As for the life politic, there was not even a trace of it. All the towns, as if in emulation, were striving to outdo each other in their immoderate adulation of the Cæsars, and of the Roman functionaries. The appellation of “friend of Cæsar” was prized. The cities were disputing with childish vanity the pompous titles of “metropole,” of “very-illustrious,” conferred by imperial rescripts. The country had submitted to the Romans without a violent conquest, at least without national resistance. History does not mention a single serious political rising. Brigandage and anarchy, which for a long time had erected in Taurus, Isauria, Pisidia impregnable strongholds, had come to an end by yielding to the power of the Romans and their allies. Civilisation had spread with surprising rapidity. The traces of the beneficent actions of Claudius, and of the gratitude of the population towards him, despite certain tumultuous agitations, were encountered at every turn. It was not as in Palestine, where the ancient institutions and manners offered a furious resistance. If we except Isauria, Pisidia, the parts of Cilicia which still retained a shade of independence, and up to a certain point in Galatia, the country had lost all national sentiment. It had never had a dynasty proper. The old provincial individualism of Phrygia, Lydia, and Caria had been dead for a long time as political units. The artificial kingdoms of Perigamus, of Bithynia and of Pontus were likewise dead. The whole peninsula had gladly accepted the Roman domination.
We might add with thankfulness; for never, in fact, had
domination been legitimatised by so many benefits. “Providence Augustus” was, in
good truth, the tutelary genius of the country. The cult
After Egypt and Cyrenica, Asia Minor was the country in
which there were most Jews. There they formed powerful communities, jealous of
their rights, easily alarmed by persecution, having the vexatious habit of
always complaining of the Roman authority, and of fleeing for protection outside
the city They had succeeded in making themselves important toll-gatherers, and
were in reality privileged, as compared with other classes of the population.
Not only, in
Embarking at Neo Paphos, the three missionaries sailed towards the mouth of the Cestrus in Pamphylia, and, ascending the river for a distance of from two to three leagues, arrived at the eminence of Perga, a great and flourishing town, the centre of an ancient worship of Diana, almost as much renowned as that of Ephesus. This religion had a great resemblance to that of Paphos, and it is not impossible that the relations of the two towns, establishing between them a line of ordinary navigation, may have determined the sojourn of the Apostles. In general, the two parallel coasts of Cyprus and Asia Minor seemed to correspond the one to the other. These were the two divisions of the Semitic populations, mixed with divers elements, and which had lost much of their primitive character.
It was at Perga that the rupture between Paul and John-Mark
was consummated. John-Mark left the mission and returned to Jerusalem. This
incident was doubtless painful to Barnabas, for John-Mark was his relative. But
Barnabas, accustomed to submit to everything on the part of his imperious
companion, did not abandon the grand design of penetrating into the heart of
Asia Minor. The two Apostles plunged into the interior, and travelling always to
the north, between the basins of Cestrus and of Eurymedon, traversed Pamphylia,
Pisidia, and pressed on as far as mountainous Phrygia. It must have been a
difficult and perilous journey. That labyrinth of rugged mountains was guarded
by a barbarous population, habituated to brigandage, and
Departing from Perga, the two Apostles, after a journey of
about forty leagues, arrived at Antioch in Pisidia or Antioch-Cæsarea, in the
very heart of the high plateaux of the peninsula. This Antioch had continued to
be a town of mediocre importance until it was raised by Augustus to the rank of
a Roman colony, with Italian jurisdiction. It then became very important, and
changed in part its character. Till now it had been a town of priests, similar,
it would seem, to Comana. The temple which had rendered it famous, with its
legions of temple slaves and its rich domains, was suppressed by the Romans
(twenty-five years before Christ). But this grand religious establishment, as is
always the case, left deep traces
According to their custom, the two Apostles presented themselves at the synagogue on the Sabbath. After the reading of the Law and the prophets, the presidents, seeing two strangers who had the appearance of being pious, sent to them inquiring whether they had a few words of exhortation to address to the people. Paul spoke, and expounded the mystery of Jesus, his death and his resurrection. The impression made was marked, and they besought him to come the following Sabbath and continue his discourse to them. A great multitude of Jews and of proselytes followed them out of the synagogue, and during the whole week Paul and Barnabas did not cease to exercise an active ministry. The Pagan population were informed of this incident, and their curiosity was excited.
The following Sabbath the whole city assembled at the
synagogue; but the sentiments of the orthodox party had much changed. They
repented of the tolerance they had shown the previous Sabbath; the eager
multitude irritated the notables; a dispute accompanied with violence began.
Paul and Barnabas bravely withstood the tempest; they were not permitted,
however, to speak in the synagogue. They retired protesting. “It was necessary
that the word of God should first have been spoken to you,” said he
to the Jews; “but seeing ye put it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of
everlasting life, lo, we turn to the Gentiles” (
The disposition of the Pagan population was found to be excellent. Many were converted and were found at the first attempt to be perfect Christians. We shall see the same thing take place at Philippi, at Alexandria Troas, and in the Roman colonies in general. The attraction that a refined worship had for these good and religious peoples—an attraction which up till then had been manifested through conversions to Judaism—was evinced now through conversions to Christianity. Despite its foreign religion, and perhaps on account of a reaction against that religion, the population of Antioch, like that of Phrygia in general, had a sort of penchant in the direction of monotheism. The new religion, not exacting circumcision and not insisting upon certain paltry observances, was much better calculated than Judaism to attract the pious Pagans; thus, favour was quickly brought over to its side. These scattered provinces, lost amongst the mountains, little accustomed to authority, without historical celebrity and without any importance whatever, were excellent soils for the faith. A Church, somewhat numerous, was established. Antioch in Pisidia became a centre of propagandism whence the doctrine irradiated all around.
The success of the new Gospel amongst the Pagans culminated
in putting the Jews into a fury. A pious intrigue was formed against the
missionaries. Several of the women of the highest class in the city had
embraced Judaism; the orthodox Jews prevailed upon them to speak to their
husbands, so as to obtain the expulsion of Paul and Barnabas. The two Apostles,
in short, were banished from the city,
Following the apostolic usage, they shook the dust off their feet against the city. They then directed their steps towards Lycaonia, and reached, after a march of about five days across a fertile country, the city of Iconium. Lycaonia was, like Pisidia, an illiterate country, little known, and which had conserved its ancient customs. Patriotism had by no means died out there; manners were pure, and the minds of men, serious and honest. Iconium was a city of ancient religions and of old traditions—traditions which, in many points, approached even those of the Jews. The city, still very small, had just received, or was about to receive, from Claudius, when Paul arrived there, the title of Colony. A high Roman functionary, Lucius Pupius Præsens, procurator of Galatia, had been called the second founder of it, and the city hence changed its ancient name for that of Claudia or of Claudiconium.
The Jews, doubtless because of that circumstance, were
numerous there, and had gained over many partisans. Paul and Barnabas spoke in
the synagogue: a Church was organised. The missionaries made Iconium a second
centre of a very active apostleship, and dwelt there a long time. It was there
that Paul, according to a very popular romance during the first half of the
third century, must have conquered the most beautiful of all his disciples, the
faithful and tender Theckla. But the story has no foundation to rest on. One
asks oneself why, if it was by an arbitrary choice, the Asiatic priest, the
author of the romance, selected for the scene of his narrative the city of
Iconium. Even to-day the Greek women of that country are celebrated for their
charms, and exhibit the phenomena of endemic hysteria, which the doctors
attribute to the climate. Be that as it may, the success of the Apostles was
The tempest which had forced the preachers to quit Antioch in Pisidia, broke out afresh at Iconium. The orthodox Jews sought to stir up the Pagan population against the missionaries. The city became divided into two parties. There was a riot: people spoke of stoning the two Apostles. They took flight, and quitted the capital of Lycaonia.
Iconium is situated near an intermittent lake, at the entrance of the great steppe which forms the centre of Asia Minor, and which has, even up till now, rebelled against all forms of civilisation. The route towards Galatia, properly speaking, and Cappadocia, was closed. Paul and Barnabas essayed to compass the foot of the arid mountains which form a semicircle round the plain on the south side. These mountains are none other than the northern back of the Taurus; but the central plain being raised considerably above the level of the sea, Taurus attains on that side only a moderate elevation. The country is cold and bleak; the soil, now swampy, now sandy, or cracked by the heat, is painfully dismal. Alone, the mass of the extinct volcano, called now Karadagh, stands like an island in the middle of that boundless sea.
Two small, obscure towns, the position of which is
uncertain, became then the theatre of the activity of the Apostles. These two
small towns were called Lystra and Derbe. Dropped down in the valleys of the
Karadagh, in the middle of poor people devoted to the raising of flocks, in the neighbourhood
Lystra was the first to be evangelised. A singular incident
happened there. In the first days of the sojourn of the Apostles at that town,
the rumour spread that Paul had performed a miraculous cure on a lame person.
The credulous inhabitants, and the friends of the person on whom the miracle had
been wrought, were thereupon seized with a singular idea. It was believed that
the Apostles were two divinities who had taken human form in order to
walk about among mortals. The belief in their descent from the gods was widely
spread, especially in Asia Minor. The life of Apollonius of Tyana became soon to
be regarded as the sojourn of a god upon earth. Tyana was not far from Derbe. As
an ancient Phrygian tradition—consecrated by a temple, and annual feast and
pretty recitations—made Zeus and Hermes to wander thus about in company, people
applied to the Apostles the names of these two divine travellers. Barnabas, who
was taller than Paul, was Zeus; Paul, who was the chief speaker, was Hermes.
There was just outside the gate of the town a temple of Zeus. The priest, warned
that a divine manifestation had taken place, and that his god had appeared in
the town, took steps to make a sacrifice. The bulls had already been led out and
garlands placed on the front of the temple, when Paul and Barnabas arrived on
the scene, rending their clothes and protesting that they were but men. The
Pagan races, as we have already said, attached to a miracle a
As Lystra had only a few or no Jews of Palestine origin, the life of the Apostle there was for a long time very tranquil. One family in that town was the centre and the school of the highest piety. It was composed of a grandmother named Lois, of a mother named Eunice, and of a young son named Timothy. The two women professed, undoubtedly, the Jewish religion as proselytes. Eunice had been married to a Pagan, who probably was dead before the advent of Paul and Barnabas. Timothy, in the society of these two women, advanced in the study of sacred literature, and in the sentiments of the most ardent devotion; but as he frequently visited the houses of the most devout proselytes, his parents had not had him circumcised. Paul converted the two women. Timothy, who might be fifteen years of age, was initiated into the Christian faith by his mother and his grandmother.
The reports of these conversions spread to Iconium and to
Antioch in Pisidia, and re-awakened the anger of the Jews of these two cities.
They sent emissaries to Lystra, who provoked a disturbance. Paul was seized by
the fanatics, dragged outside the city,
They made here a long stay, and won over a great many souls. These two Churches of Lystra and of Derbe were the first Churches which were composed almost entirely of Pagans. We can understand what a difference there must have been between these Churches and those of Palestine, formed in the bosom of pure Judaism, or even that of Antioch, encircled by a Jewish leaven and in a society already Judaised. Here there were subjects completely unprejudiced, honest country folks who were very religious, but of a turn of mind quite different from that of the Syrians. Till now, the preaching of Christianity had prospered only in the large towns, where resided a numerous population, plying their trades. Hence-forward, churches were planted in the villages. Neither Iconium, nor Lystra, nor Derbe was considerable enough in which to found a Church to be compared to that of Corinth or of Ephesus. Paul was in the habit of designating the Christians of Lycaonia by the name of the province in which they dwelt. Now, this province—we mean Galatia—understood the word in the administrative sense in which the Romans had applied it.
The Roman province of Galatia, in fact, by no means
embraced simply that country, peopled with Gallic adventurers, of which the town
of Ancyra was the centre. It was an artificial agglomeration, corresponding to
the transient reunion which was effected at the hands of the Galatian King
Amyntas. This personage, after the battle of Philippi, and the death of
Dejotarus, received from Antony, Pisidia, then Galatia, together with a part of
Lycaonia and of Pamphylia. He was confirmed by Augustus in this possession. At
the end of his reign (twenty-five
Paul was accustomed to make use of the administrative name
to designate each country. The countries he had evangelised, from Antioch in
Pisidia to Derbe, were called by him “Galatia;” and the Christians of these
countries were to him “Galatians.” That name was to him extremely
dear. The Churches of Galatia were embraced amongst those for which the Apostle
had the most affection, and which in turn had for him the greatest personal
attachment. The recollection of the friendship and the devotion which he had
found at the houses of these good people, was one of the deepest impressions of
his apostolic life. Several circumstances enhanced the keenness of these
recollections. It appears that during his sojourn in Galatia, the Apostle was
subject to attacks of weakness, or of the malady which frequently overtook him.
The solicitude, the attentions of the faithful proselytes,
He was for four or five years thus absorbed within a quite limited circle. He thought less then of those great rapid journeys, which towards the end of his life became with him a sort of passion, in order to establish firmly the Churches which might serve him as a base of operations. We do not know whether during that time he had any relations with the Church at Antioch, whose mission he had received. The desire of seeing again that Mother Church was awakened in him. He determined to make a journey thence, and proceeded by the opposite route to the one he had already gone by. The two missionaries visited for the second time Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch in Pisidia. They took up anew their abodes in these towns, confirming the faithful in the faith, exhorting them to perseverance, to patience, and teaching them that it was only through tribulation that they could enter into the Kingdom of God. For the rest, the constitution of these scattered Churches was very simple. The Apostles chose from amongst each of them elders who after their departure were the depositaries of their authority. The ceremony of their departure was touching. There were fastings and prayers, after which the Apostles recommended the faithful to God, and departed.
From Antioch in Pisidia, the missionaries once more
attained to Perga. They made there, moreover, it appeared, a mission which was
crowned with success. The city processions, pilgrimages, and grand annual
panegyrics, were often favourable to the preaching of the Apostles. From Perga,
after a day’s journey,
The mission field was by no means a wide one. It embraced
the Island of Cyprus in the sense of its length, and in Asia Minor a broken line
of about a hundred leagues. It was the first instance of an apostolic journey of
that kind: nothing had been pre-arranged. Paul and Barnabas had to wrestle with
the greatest external difficulties. We must not compare these journeys with
those of a Francis Xavier or of a Livingstone, backed up by rich associations.
The Apostles resembled much more the Socialist workmen, spreading their ideas
from tavern to tavern, than the missionaries of modern times. Their trade was
forced upon them as a necessity; they were compelled to halt in order to pursue
it, and to regulate their movements according to the localities in which they
could find work. Hence from delays, from dull seasons, there was much
time lost. In spite of the enormous obstacles, the general results of that first
mission were immense. When Paul had re-embarked for Antioch, there were several
churches of Gentiles. The great step had now been made. All steps of that kind
which had taken place anteriorly had been more or less undecided. For all that,
they were obliged to give an answer, more or less plausible, to the pure Jews at
Jerusalem, who maintained that circumcision was the preliminary obligation of
the Christian profession. Moreover, the question had assumed a different form.
Another tact of the highest importance was again brought to light; that was the
excellent disposition which they had been able to discover among certain races,
attached to mythological religions, to receive the gospel. The doctrine of Jesus
was evidently about to profit by the species of charm which Judaism
The return of Paul and Barnabas was hailed in the Church of
Antioch with a shout of joy. The whole street of Singon was en fête: the Church
was assembled. The two missionaries related their adventures and the things
which God had done by them. “God Himself,” said they, “had opened the door of
faith unto the Gentiles” (
A serious dissension, which nearly destroyed the work of
Jesus, broke out at that time, and threw the nascent Church into great disorder.
This dissension embraced the very essence of the situation. It was
Jesus, in raising religion to the highest summit it had ever attained, had not stated very distinctly whether or not he would remain a Jew. He had not indicated what he desired to conserve of Judaism. Sometimes he asserted that he had come to confirm the Law of Moses, at others, to supplant it. To speak the truth, this was, for a great poet like him, an insignificant detail. When one has reached the point of knowing the Heavenly Father, Him whom one adores in spirit and in truth, one no longer belongs to any sect, to any particular religion, or to any school; one has the true religion: all practices become of no account; one does not despise them, for they are the symbols of what has been or is still respectable; but one ceases to impute to them an intrinsic virtue. Circumcision, baptism, the Passover, unleavened bread, sacrifices, all these become equally secondary matters: one thinks no more about them. None of the uncircumcised, moreover, had identified themselves with Jesus, or his life; the question did not hence call for solution. Like all men of genius, Jesus concerned himself with mind alone. Practical questions of the highest importance, questions which appeared paramount to inferior minds, questions which caused the acutest pain to men of application, had no existence for him.
At his death the confusion was general. Abandoned to
themselves, deprived of him who had been for them all a living theology, they
returned to the practices of Jewish piety. There were men who were in the
highest degree devout; but the devotion of the times was Jewish devotion. They
preserved their customs, and fell again into those petty observances that
ordinary persons looked upon as the essence of Judaism. The world esteemed them
as holy men; and by a singular change of front,
Very soon people encountered, in looking at things from this point of view, the greatest difficulties. For, as soon as the family of Christians increased in numbers, it was exclusively amongst the people of non-Israelitish origin, amongst the sympathetic adherents of Judaism who were uncircumcised, that the new faith found the readiest access. To oblige these to become circumcised was out of the question. Peter, with admirable practical good sense, recognised this clearly. On the other hand, timorous persons, such as James, the brother of the Lord, looked upon it as supreme impiety to admit Pagans into the Church, and to eat with them. Peter put off as far as he was able all solution of the question.
For the rest, the Jews, on their part, found themselves in
the same situation, and had taken up a similar position. When proselytes or
partisans came to them from all parts, the question presented itself to them.
Some advanced minds, honest laymen ignorant of science, and removed from the
influence of the doctors, did not insist upon circumcision. Sometimes even they
dissuaded the new converts from the practice. These simple-minded and good souls
desired only the salvation of the world, and sacrificed all the rest to this.
The orthodox, on the contrary, with the disciples of Schammai at their head,
declared circumcision to be indispensable. Opposed to the proselytising of the
Gentiles, they did nothing to facilitate the cause of religion; on the
contrary, they exhibited towards the converts a certain coldness; Schammai drove them out of his
The grand duality which is the essence of Judaism, was
revealed in this. The Law, which was essentially restrictive, and made for the
purpose of isolating, was totally different in spirit from the Prophets who
dreamt of the conversion of the world, and embraced the widest fields. Two words
borrowed from the Talmudic language well defines the difference that we have
indicated. The agada, the opposite of the halaka, designates popular preaching,
proposes to itself the conversion of the heathen, in opposition to the learned
casuistry which only thinks of the strict execution of the Law, without aiming
at converting any one. To use the phraseology of the Talmud, the gospels are the
agadas; the Talmud, on the contrary, is the highest expression of the halaka. It
is the agada which has conquered the world and made Christianity; the halaka is
the foundation of orthodox Judaism, which still endures without seeking to
extend itself. The agada is represented as a thing principally Galilæan; the
halaka as a thing peculiarly Jerusalemitish. Jesus, Hillel, the authors of
apocalypses and apochryphas, are agadists, pupils of the Prophets, inheritors
of their infinite aspirations; Schammai, the Talmudists, the Jews posterior to
the destruction of Jerusalem, are the halakistes, the adherents of the Law,
with its strict observances. We shall see, up to the time of the supreme crisis
of the year 70, the fanaticism of the Law increasing each day, and, on the eve
of the great national disaster, terminating in a sort of reaction against the
doctrines of St Paul; in those “eighteen measures” which afterwards
rendered impossible all intercourse between
It is clear that, for nascent Christianity, here was the
point upon which its future depended. Judaism—did it or did it not impose
particular rites upon the multitudes which professed it? Did it establish a
distinction between the monotheistic basis which constituted its essence, and
the observances with which it was surcharged? If the former party had
triumphed, as the Schammaites wished it should, the Jewish propaganda would have
been wiped out. It is quite certain that the world would not have become Jewish,
in the narrow sense of the word. That which constituted the attraction of
Judaism, was not its rites, which did not differ in principle from those of
other religions: it was its theological simplicity. We accept it as a sort of
deism, or religious philosophy; and, in fact—in the mind of a Philo, for
example—Judaism was itself very closely associated with philosophical
speculations. With the Essenians it had reassumed the form of a social Utopia;
with the author of the poem attributed to Phocylides, it had become a simple
catechism of good sense and of honesty; with the author of the treatise of “The
Empire of Reason,” a sort of Stoicism. Judaism, like all religions founded
primarily upon caste and tribalism, was encumbered by practices destined to
separate the believer from the rest of the world. These practices were no longer
an obstacle on the day when Judaism justly aspired to become the universal
religion, without either exclusion or separation. It was as Deism and not as
Mosaicism that it was to become the universal religion of humanity. “Love all
men,” said Hillel, “and draw them together with the Law; act not otherwise than
you would not wish that others
Three capital reasons, in fact, rendered Judaism a thing
very exclusive. These were, circumcision, the prohibition of mixed marriages,
and the distinction between meats permissible or forbidden. Circumcision was
for adults a painful ceremony; a ceremony, moreover, not free from danger, and
disagreeable to the last degree. That was one of the reasons which interdicted
the Jews from leading a life in common with other races, and made of them a
separate caste. At the baths and at the gymnasiums, most important places in
ancient cities, circumcision exposed the Jews to all manner of affronts. Every
time that the attention of the Greeks or the Romans was drawn to the subject, it
was the signal for outbursts of pleasantry. The Jews were very sensitive on the
point, and avenged themselves by cruel reprisals. Many, in order to escape the
ridicule, and wishing to pass themselves off for Greeks, attempted to
dissimulate their original mark by a surgical operation, the details of which
have been preserved to us by Celsus. As for the converts who submitted to that
initiatory ceremony, there was only one course they could take—that was, to conceal themselves
Mixed marriages were the origin of difficulties of a similar kind. The Jews regarded these marriages as pure fornication. It was the crime that the kanaīm punished with the dagger, simply because the Law in not prescribing any particular punishment for it, left its repression in the hands of zealots. Although united by faith and love to Christ, two Christians could thus be prevented from contracting marriage. The Israelite converted to Jesus who wished to espouse a sister of the Grecian race, expected that union, holy in his eyes, to be called by the most outrageous names.
The prescriptions as to meats being pure or impure were not
of the least consequence. We can judge of this by that which still takes place
in our own time. Nudity being no longer a part of modern manners, circumcision
no longer subjects Israelites to these inconveniences. But the necessity of
slaughtering for themselves continues to be very embarrassing for them. It
requires of those who are strict not to eat with Christians, and, consequently,
to be sequestered from general society. That precept is the principal cause
which still places Judaism, in many countries, in the position of an exclusive
sect. In countries where Israelites are not separated from the rest of the
nation, it is a rock of offence; for, to
One particular circumstance gave to the prohibitions in
regard to meat much importance. The flesh provided for the sacrifices made to
the gods was considered as impure. Now these meats, after the sacrifices, were
often carried to the market, where it became very difficult to distinguish them;
hence the inextricable scruples. The strict Jews did not regard as lawful the
indiscriminate provisioning of them-selves in the market. They held that the
seller should be questioned as to the origin of the meat, and that before
accepting the dish the host should be questioned as to how it had been
supplied. The imposing
The mission of Paul and Barnabas had presented the question
with such a force that there was no way of avoiding a solution. Paul, who in the
first period of his ministry had, it appears, preached circumcision, now
declared it useless. He had surreptitiously admitted Pagans into the Church;
he had constituted Churches composed of Gentiles; Titus, his intimate friend,
had not been circumcised. The Church at Jerusalem could not longer close its
Some members of the Church of Judæa having arrived at Antioch
without, as it would appear, any mission from the apostolic body, provoked
discussion. They proclaimed loudly that one could not be saved without
circumcision. It is necessary to recall that the Christians, who had at Antioch
a name and a distinct individuality, had nothing of the kind at Jerusalem; that
which did not oppose whoever came from Jerusalem had not in the whole Church much force,
The question had for Paul a personal importance. His action until now had been almost entirely independent. He had only spent a fortnight at Jerusalem since his conversion, and for eleven years he had not put a foot in it. In the eyes of many he was a sort of heretic, teaching on his own account, and scarcely in communion with the rest of the faithful. He declared proudly that he had had his revelation, his apostleship. To go to Jerusalem was, in appearance at least, to forfeit his liberty, to subject his apostleship to that of the Mother Church, to learn from others what he knew through his own and personal revelation. He did not deny the authority of the Mother Church; but he defied it, because he was acquainted with the obstinacy of some of its members. He therefore took precautions so as not to compromise himself too much. He declared that in going to Jerusalem he would not submit to any dictation; he even feigned, indulging a pretension that was habitual to him, that in this he was obeying a command of Heaven, and of having had a revelation on the subject. He took with him his disciple Titus, who shared all his opinions, and who, as we have said above, was not circumcised.
Paul, Barnabas, and Titus set out on their journey. The
Church at Antioch accompanied them on their route as far as
Laodicæa-on-the-sea. They followed the coast of Phœnicia, then traversed
Samaria, finding at every step brethren, to whom they recounted the marvels of
the conversion of the Gentiles. There was great joy everywhere. In this way they
reached Jerusalem. This was one of the most
Eighteen years had rolled on since the death of Jesus. The
Apostles had grown old. One of them had suffered martyrdom. Others
probably were dead. We know that the deceased members of the apostolic college
were not replaced; that the college became extinct when they had disappeared. On
the part of the Apostles, they formed themselves into a college of elders, in
which authority was divided. The “Church,” the reputed depository of
the Holy Spirit, was composed of the Apostles, of the elders, and of all the
brotherhood. Amongst the simple-minded brethren themselves there were degrees.
Inequality was perfectly admissible; but that inequality was altogether moral;
it was neither a question of external prerogative nor of material advantage. The
three principal “pillars,” as we have said, of the community were
still Peter, James, the brother of the Lord, and John, the son of Zebedee. Many
Galileans had disappeared. They had been replaced by a certain number of persons
belonging to the party of the Pharisees. “Pharisee” was synonymous with
“devotee”; but all the best saints of Jerusalem were also strong
devotees. Lacking the mind, the finesse, the grandeur of Jesus, they had, after
his death, fallen into a kind of stupid bigotry, a state similar to that which
their master so strongly combated. They were incapable of irony; they had almost
forgotten the eloquent invectives of Jesus against the hypocrites. Some had
developed into a sort of Jewish Indian priests, after the manner of John the
Baptist and of Banou, monks totally addicted to formulas, and at whom Jesus certainly, if
James, in particular, surnamed the Just, or “the brother of
the Lord,” was one of the most exact observers of the Law that there
was. According to certain traditions—very doubtful, it is true—he was even an
ascetic, practising all the Nazarene abstinences, observing celibacy, drinking
no intoxicating liquors, eschewing flesh, never cutting his hair, forbidding
himself anointings and baths, wearing neither sandals nor garments of wool,
clothed in plain linen. Nothing, we see, was more contrary to the idea of Jesus,
who, at least from the death of John the Baptist, declared affectations of that
kind perfectly vain. Abstinence—already in favour with certain branches of
Judaism—became the fashion, and formed the dominant trait of the fraction of the
Church which, later on, was to be connected with a pretended Ebion. The pure
Jews were opposed to those abstinences; but the proselytes, particularly the
women, inclined much to them. James did not stir from the Temple; he remained
there alone, it is said, for long hours in prayer, until the callus of his knees
had contracted, like those of the chamois. It is believed that he passed his
time there after the manner of Jeremiah, a penitent for the people, weeping for
the sins of the nation, and turning aside the chastisements that threatened
them. He had only to raise his hands to heaven to perform miracles. He had been
surnamed the Just, and also Obliam, that is to say, “Rampart of the people,”
because it was supposed that it was his prayers which prevented the Divine
wrath from sweeping everything away. The Jews, as we are assured, held him in
the same veneration as the Christians. If that singular man was really the
brother of Jesus, he must have been at least one of those inimical brothers who
abjured him and wished him arrested; and it is probable to
To sum up, the Church at Jerusalem had been more and more broadened by the spirit of Jesus. The dead weight of Judaism had borne it down. Jerusalem was for the new faith an unwholesome centre, and would have ended by destroying it. In that capital of Judaism, it was very difficult to cease being a Jew. Moreover, new men, like St Paul, all but systematically avoided residing there. Forced now, under pain of being separated from the primitive Church, to come to confer with their elders, they found themselves in a position full of hardship; and the work, which could not live except by the power of concord and of abnegation, ran an immense risk.
The interview, in fact, was singularly protracted and
embarrassing. People listened favourably at first to the account that Paul and
Barnabas gave of their missions; for every one, even the most Judaised, was of
opinion that the conversion of the Gentiles was the harbinger of the Messiah.
The curiosity to see the man of whom so much was being said, and who had led the
sect into so new a path, was at first very lively. They glorified God for having
made an Apostle out of a persecutor. But when they came to circumcision, and the
obligation of practising the Law, dissension broke out in all its force. The
Pharisean party set forth its pretensions in the most uncompromising manner. The
party in favour of emancipation responded with triumphant force. They cited the
cases of several uncircumcised persons who had received the Holy Ghost. If God
made no distinction between Pagans and
The most admirable characteristic in the histories of the origins of Christianity is that that radical and serious division, embracing a question of the first importance, did not occasion in the Church a complete schism, which would have been its ruin. The eager and impulsive mind of Paul had here a splendid opportunity of displaying itself; his sound practical sense, his sagacity, and his judgment, remedied everything. The two parties were eager, excited, almost harsh to one another; nobody rejected his advice; the question was not yet shaped; people remained united in the common work. A superior bond, the love that every one had for Jesus, the remembrance which all entertained for him, were stronger than the divisions. The most fundamental dissension that was ever produced in the bosom of the Church, did not lead to reprobation. This is a great lesson that succeeding centuries have seldom been able to imitate.
Paul understood that in large and heated assemblies he
could never succeed, because that there narrow minds would always have the sway,
and because Judaism was too long at Jerusalem for one
It was doubtless at the close of one of their
conversations that Paul, with the exaggeration of language and the verve that
were habitual to him, said to Peter, “We quite understand one another; yours is
the gospel of circumcision; mine is the gospel of uncircumcision.” Paul laid
hold of these words later on as a sort of regular treaty, which ought to be
accepted by all the Apostles. It is difficult to believe that Peter and Paul
should dare to repeat outside their private conversations words which would have
injured to the highest degree the pretensions
James, with the sanctity of a life so equivocal, was the
chief of the Judaistic party. It was through him that almost all the conversions
of Pharisees had been made: the exigencies of that party were imposed on him.
Everything tends to the belief that he did not make any concession upon the
dogmatic principle; nevertheless, a moderate and conciliatory opinion soon
began to make itself manifest. The legitimacy of the conversion of the Gentiles
was admitted; it was declared that it was useless to be disquieted in regard to
what concerned circumcision; it was only necessary to maintain a few
interesting prescriptions, the morale or the suppression of which would shock
too keenly the Jews. In order to reassure the Pharisean party, it was remarked
that the existence of the Law was not for the sake of compromise, seeing that
Moses had from time immemorial, and would always be, for the people to be read
in the synagogues. The converted Jews thus remained submissive to the entire
Law, and the exemptions only concerned the converted Pagans. In practice,
however, people were to avoid shocking those who had more contracted
Paul took the most infinite precautions in acceding to this demand. It was indeed owned that it was not as a matter of necessity that the circumcision of Titus was demanded, as Titus would remain a Christian even if he did not submit to that rite; but it was asked of him as a mark of condescension for the brethren whose consciences were pledged, and who otherwise could not hold relations with him. Paul consented, but not without uttering some severe words against the authors of such an exaction, against those false brethren who only had entered the Church to diminish the extent of the liberties created by Jesus. He protested that be would in nothing submit his opinions to theirs; that the concession he had made was for once only, for the sake of the general good, and of peace. With such reservations he gave his consent, and Titus was circumcised.
That concession cost Paul much, and the sentence in which
he spoke of it is one of the most original that he ever wrote. The language that
it cost him seemed not to be able to run off his pen. The sentence, at first
sight, appeared to mean that Titus was not circumcised, whilst it implied that
he was. The remembrance of that painful moment often returned to him; that
semblance of returning to Judaism appeared
The capital concession which involved the circumcision of
Titus, appeased much of the ill-feeling. It was admitted that in distant
countries in which the new converts had no daily intercourse with the Jews, it
would be sufficient if they abstained from blood, together with meats offered in
sacrifice to the gods, or suffocated, and that they observed the same laws as
the Jews in regard to marriage, and the relations between the sexes. The use of
pork meat, the interdiction of which was everywhere the symbol of Judaism, was
left free. It was almost the embodiment of the Noachic precepts; that is to
say, which it was supposed had been revealed to Noah, and which were imposed on
all proselytes. The idea that the blood was the life, that the blood was life
itself, inspired in the Jews an extreme horror for meats from which the blood
had not been let. To abstain from these was for them a precept of natural
religion. Demons were supposed to be particularly greedy of blood, so in eating
meat not bled people ran the risk of having for companion of the food they
partook of a demon. A man who about that period wrote under the usurped name of
the celebrated Greek moralist Phocylides a short course of Jewish natural
morals, simplified the usages of the non-Jews, by seizing upon similar
solutions. That bold impostor did not essay to convert his reader to Judaism; he
sought merely to inculcate on him the “Noachical precepts,” with some greatly
modified Jewish rules in regard to meat and to marriage. The first of these rules
For the rest, that which issued from the assembly at Jerusalem was only agreed to by word of mouth, and was not even stated in very strict terms, for we shall see them frequently set aside. The idea of dogmatic canons emanating from a council was not yet heard of. By reason of profound good sense, these simple people attained to the loftiest pinnacle of policy. They saw that the only way of escaping great questions was to leave them unresolved, to take a middle course which would please no one, and to leave problems to wear themselves out, and to die from lack of a raison d’être.
People were content to be divided. Paul explained to
Peter, James, and John the gospel that he preached to the Gentiles; the former
entirely approved of it, finding nothing in it to reprimand, and not attempting
to add anything thereto. Paul and Barnabas were heartily given the right hand of
fellowship; their immediate right divine to the apostleship of the Pagan world
was admitted; people recognised in them a sort of peculiar grace for what was
the special object of their vocation. The title of Apostle of the Gentiles,
which Paul had already assumed, was, as he assures us, officially conferred on
him; and without doubt people accorded to him, at least by tacit assent, the
fact which he prized the most, to wit, that he had had his special revelation as
direct as those who had seen Jesus; in other words, that his vision on the way
to Damascus was of as much importance as the other appearances of Christ risen
from the dead. All that was required of the three representatives of the
In order that no doubt should remain as to the reconciliation, it was decided that Paul, Barnabas, and Titus, in returning to Antioch, were to be accompanied by two of the principal members of the Church at Jerusalem, Judas Bar-Saba and Silvanus or Silas, who were charged with disavowing the brethren from Judæa who had created the trouble in the Church at Antioch, and to render witness to Paul and Barnabas, whose services and devotion were recognised. The joy at Antioch was very great. Judas and Silas held the rank of prophets: their inspired speech was appreciated extremely by the Church at Antioch. Silas was so much charmed with that atmosphere of life and of liberty, that he had no desire to return to Jerusalem. Judas alone returned to the Apostles, and Silas attached himself to Paul by bonds of brotherhood, which every day became more intimate.
An idea which, above all things, it is necessary to get rid of, when the question at issue is the propagation of Christianity, is that that propagation had to be made by succeeding missionaries, and by preachers similar to those of modern times, who have to go from city to city. Paul and Barnabas and their companions were the only ones who sometimes proceeded in this manner. The rest was done by workmen whose names remain unknown. Alongside the Apostles who attained celebrity, there was thus an obscure apostleship, whose agents were not dogmatists by profession, but who were none the less most efficacious. The Jews of the period were nomads par excellence. Merchants, servants, small tradesmen, they visited all the large towns of the coast, and pursued their calling. Active, industrious, polite, they brought with them their ideas, their good example, their exaltation, and dominated these populations, degraded in point of religion, with all the superiority that the enthusiastic man possesses over those that are indifferent. Those affiliated to the Christian sect travelled like the other Jews, and carried the glad tidings with them. It was a sort of familiar preaching, and much more persuasive than any other. The gentleness, the gaiety, the good humour, the patience of the new believers, caused them to be received gladly everywhere, and conciliated their minds.
Rome was one of the first points attacked in this manner.
The capital of the Empire had heard the name of Jesus long before all the
intermediate countries could have been evangelised, just as a high
It is in the highest degree probable that about the year 50
several Jews from Syria, already Christians, entered the capital of the Empire,
and disseminated their ideas there. In fact, among the good administrative
measures of Claudius, Suetonius placed the following: “He expelled the Jews from
Rome, who, at the instigation of Chrestus, indulged frequently in riots.”
Certainly, it is possible that there might have been at Rome a Jew named
Chrestus who fomented troubles amongst his co-religionists, and which led to
their expulsion. But it is much more probable that the name of Chrestus was none
other than that of Christ himself. The introduction of the new faith provoked,
doubtless, in the Jewish quarter at Rome, altercations, quarrels, scenes
analogous, in a word, to those which had already taken place at
Damascus, at Antioch in Pisidia, and at Lystra. Wishing to
The principal Jewish quarter in Rome was situated on the
other side of the Tiber; that is to say, in the part of the city the poorest
and the most filthy, probably in the neighbourhood of the actual Porta Portese.
Here was situated formerly, as in our own times, the port of Rome, the place
where merchandise was unloaded which had been brought in flat boats from Ostia.
It was the quarter of the Jews and of the Syrians, “nations born to servitude”
as is remarked by Cicero. The first nucleus of the Jewish population at Rome
had, in fact, been formed of freedmen, descendants, for the most part, of those
who had been carried prisoners to Rome by Pompey. They had undergone slavery
without changing any of their religious habits. That which is admirable about
Judaism, is that simplicity of faith which makes the Jew, though transported a
thousand leagues from his country, at the end of many generations a Jew still of
the purest type. The intercourse between the synagogues of Rome and those of Jerusalem was
Protected by the contempt which they inspired, little
sensitive, moreover, to the railleries of the people of the world, the Jews of
Transtevere led thus a very active, religious, and social life. They possessed a
few kakamin (schools); nowhere was the ritual and ceremonial of the Law more
scrupulously observed; the synagogues had the most perfect organisation that
ever was known. The titles of “father” and of “mother of the synagogue” were
much prized. Some rich converts took biblical names; they converted their slaves
along with themselves; the Scroll was explained by the doctors; they built
places of prayer, and showed themselves to be proud of the consideration they
enjoyed in that little world. The poor
A world of ideas were thus propounded on the common wharf
where was unloaded the merchandise of the whole world; but all this is lost in
the tumult of a large city like London or Paris. Certainly the proud patricians,
who, in their promenades upon the Aventine
The great question of the moment was the attainment of
Agrippa to power, the adoption of Nero by
The founders of this first Church at Rome, destroyed by
the decree of Claudius, are unknown. But we know the names of two Jews who were
exiled in consequence of the emeutes of the Porta Portese. They were an old
pious couple, the one Aquila, originally a Jew from Pontus, following the same
calling as St Paul, that of an upholsterer, the other Priscilla, his wife. They
sought refuge at Corinth, where we soon see them en rapport with St Paul, whose
intimate friends and zealous fellow-workers they became. Aquila and Priscilla
are hence the two oldest known members of the Church at Rome. But they are
hardly remembered. Legend, which is always unjust, because it is always swayed
by political motives, has expelled from the Christian Pantheon these two obscure
workers, in order to attribute the honour of the foundation of the Church of
Rome to a name more illustrious, corresponding better to the proud pretensions
of universal dominion which the capital of the Empire, now become Christian,
could not abdicate. For us, it is not at the theatrical basilica which has been
consecrated to St Peter, it is at the Porta Portese, that ancient ghetto, where
we really find the starting-point of Western Christianity. It is the traces of
those pier wandering Jews, who carried with them the religion of the
world,—those men who hardly dreamt, in their misery, of the kingdom of God—we
must search out and embrace. We do not contest with Rome its essential title;
Rome was probably the first spot of the Western world, and even of Europe, where
Christianity was established But in place of these proud and magnificent
churches, in place of these insulting devices, Christus vincit, Christus regit,
Christus imperat—Christ conquers,
After the Church of Rome (if it was not even anterior) the most ancient Western Church was that of Pozzuoli. St Paul found Christians there about the year 61. Pozzuoli was in a certain sense the port of Rome; it was at least the place where the Jews and the Syrians who came to Rome disembarked. This strange soil undermined by fire; these Phlegreens fields; that sulphur bed; these caverns full of burning vapours, which seemed the breath of hell; these sulphurous waters; these myths of giants, and of demons buried in the burning valleys, a sort of Gehennas; these baths, which appeared to the austere Jews and the enemies of total nudity the acme of abomination—greatly impressed the imaginations of the new emigrants, and have left a deep trace on the apocalyptic compositions of the times. The follies of Caligula, of which we still see traces, left also in these places terrible recollections.
In any case, one capital feature, as we have already had
occasion to remark, is, that the Church at Rome was not, like the Churches of
Asia Minor, of Macedonia and of Greece, a foundation of the school of Paul. It
was a Judæo-Christian creation, connected directly with the Church at
Jerusalem. Paul was never here on his own ground; he found in that great Church
many shortcomings, which he treated with indulgence, but which offended his
exalted idealism. Attached to circumcision, and to exterior practices; ebionite
by its taste for abstinences, and by its doctrine, more Jew than Christian, in
regard to the person and the death of Jesus; strongly attached to
millenarianism, the Roman Church presented in its early days the essential
features which have distinguished it during its long and marvellous
Hardly had Paul returned to Antioch, when he began forming
new projects. His ardent soul could not brook repose. On the one hand, he
proposed to enlarge the rather limited field of his first mission: on the other,
the desire to see again his dear Churches
Paul communicated his design to Barnabas. But the
friendship of the two Apostles, which had been proof against the severest tests,
which no susceptibility of amour propre, no freak of character had been able to
lessen, received now a cruel blow. Barnabas proposed to Paul to take John,
surnamed Mark, with them: Paul flew into a passion. He could not pardon
John-Mark for having abandoned the first mission at Perga, at the moment when it
had entered upon the most perilous stage of the journey. The man who had once
refused to go on with the work, appeared to him as unworthy of being enrolled
anew. Barnabas defended his cousin, whose motives, in fact, it is probable Paul
judged with too much severity. The quarrel waxed very hot: it was impossible to
come to an understanding. That old friendship which had been the condition of
the evangelic preaching, gave place for a time to a miserable question of
individuals. To speak truly, it is allowable to suppose that the rupture was
based on deeper reasons. It is a miracle that the always increasing pretensions
of Paul, his pride, his eagerness to be absolute chief, had not already twenty times rendered relations
The two Apostles then separated from each other. Barnabas
and John-Mark embarked at Seleucia for Cyprus. History from this point loses
sight of his wanderings. While Paul marches on to glory, his companion, falling
into obscurity the moment he quitted him who illuminated him with his rays,
wears himself out with the labours of an unrecorded apostleship. The enormous
injustice which often regulates the things of this world, presides over history like as over everything else.
Those
who undertake the rôle of self-devotion and unostentation, are ordinarily
forgotten. The author of the Acts, with his ingenuous conciliatory policy, has,
without wishing it, sacrificed Barnabas to the desire that he entertained of
reconciling Peter to Paul. By a sort of instinctive lack of the principle of
compensation, on the one hand diminishing and subordinating the importance of Paul, on
In place of Barnabas, Paul selected for his companion
Silas, the prophet of the Church at Jerusalem, who had remained at Antioch. He
was probably not sorry at the defection of John-Mark, who, it seems, wished to
be near Peter. Silas possessed, it is said, the title of a Roman citizen, which,
joined with his name of Silvanus, induces the belief that he was not of Judea,
or that he had already had occasion to familiarise himself with the world of the
Gentiles. Both departed, recommended by the brethren to the grace of God. These
forms were not at that time
Paul and Silas journeyed by land. Taking to the north, across the plain of Antioch, they traversed the defile of Amanus, the Assyrian passes; then rounding the end of the Gulf of Issus they crossed the northern ridge of Amanus by the Amanida pass; they then traversed Cilicia, passing probably through Tarsus, emerging from Taurus doubtless by the celebrated Cilician passes—one of them the most frightful mountain pass in the world; penetrating thence into Lycaonia; finally reaching Derbe, Lystra, and Iconium.
Paul found his dear Churches in the same state in which he had left them. The faithful had persevered, and their numbers had increased. Timothy, who was but an infant at the time of his first journey, had become an excellent subject. His youth, his piety, and his intelligence, delighted Paul. All the faithful of Lycaonia testified highly of him. Paul attached him to himself, loved him tenderly, and always found in him a zealous collaborateur, or, rather, a son (it is Paul himself who uses this expression). Timothy was a man of great candour, modesty, and reserve. He had not assurance enough to undertake the chief rôles; he lacked authority, especially in Greek countries, where the minds of the people were frivolous and fickle; but his self-denial made of him an unequalled deacon and secretary to Paul. Paul moreover declared that he had not another disciple who was so completely according to his heart. Impartial history is compelled to withhold, to the advantage of Timothy and of Barnabas, a portion of the glory monopolised by the all-absorbing personality of Paul.
Paul, in attaching Timothy to himself, foresaw
From Iconium Paul probably went to Antioch in Pisidia, and
completed thus the visit of the principal Churches in Galatia, founded during
his first journey. He resolved then to enter upon new territory; but grave
doubts restrained him. The thought of attacking the West of Asia Minor, that is
to say, the province of Asia, came into his mind. It was the
What is certain is that, from Antioch in Pisidia, instead
of going in the direction of the brilliant provinces of the south-east of Asia
Minor, Paul and his companions plunged more and more into the heart of the
peninsula, which contained provinces much less celebrated and less civilised.
They traversed Phrygia Epictetus, passed probably through the towns of Synnada
and Æzana, and reached the confines of Mysia. There, their indecision returned.
Should they turn to the north towards Bithynia, or continue west and enter Mysia?
They essayed first to enter Bithynia, but untoward events supervened, which they
took for the indications of the will of Heaven. They imagined that the spirit of
Jesus did not wish that they should tarry in that country. They then traversed
Mysia from one end to the other, and arrived at Alexandria-Troas, a considerable
These long journeys in Asia Minor, full of sweet ennuis and
mystical dreams, are a singular mixture of sadness and of charm. Often the route
is hard; certain cantons are peculiarly rugged and barren. Other parts, on the
contrary, are full of freshness, and do not correspond at all to the ideas that
we are accustomed to embrace in that vague phrase, the East. The mouth of the
Orontes marks, both in relation to nature and in relation to races, a
well-defined line of demarcation. Asia Minor, both for aspect and for the style
of landscape, recalls Italy or our South, at the eminence of Valence and of
Avignon. The European is not out of his native climate there, as he is in Syria
or in Egypt. It is, if I may say so, an Aryan, not a Semitic country, and it is
not to be doubted that one day it will be occupied anew by the Indo-European
race (Greeks and Armenians). Water there is abundant: the towns are as if
inundated by it. Certain points, such as Nymphi, Magnesia in Siplyus, are
veritable paradises. The smooth mountain slopes which bound almost everywhere
the horizon, present such varieties of infinite forms, and sometimes of
fantastic shapes, that they would be regarded as idle fancies if an artist dare
to imitate them. There are summits indented like the teeth of a saw, sides torn
and slashed, strange cones, and perpendicular walls, in which are finely exposed
to view all the beauties of the stone. Thanks to the numerous chains of
mountains, the waters are living and sparkling. Long rows of poplars, small
At Troas, Paul, who in certain parts of that journey seems not to have followed any well-defined plan, became once more irresolute as to which route he should choose. Macedonia appeared to him to offer a fine harvest. It appears that he was confirmed in that idea by a Macedonian whom he encountered at Troas. He was a doctor, an uncircumcised proselyte, by the name of Lucanus or Lucas. This Latin name would lead one to believe that the new disciple belonged to the Roman colony of Philippi; his rare knowledge, in fact, of nautical geography and of navigation would, however, rather incline to the idea that he was a Neapolitan: the ports and all the coast of the Mediterranean appear to have been remarkably familiar to him.
This man, to whom was reserved so important a part in the
history of Christianity, seeing he was to be the historian of the Christian
origins, and seeing his judgment, self-deceptive as to the future, was to
regulate the ideas that were formed in the early times of the Church, had
received a sufficiently careful Jewish and Hellenic education. He had a gentle
and conciliatory mind, a tender and sympathetic soul, a modest temperament,
inclining to self-effacement. Paul loved him much, and Luke, on his part, was
always faithful to his master. Like Timothy, Luke
Everything tends to the belief that Luke was
The mission at this point entered upon entirely new ground.
It was what was called the province of Macedonia; but these regions had not
formed a portion of the Macedonian kingdom since the time of Philip. They were,
in reality, portions of Thracia, anciently colonised by the Greeks, then
absorbed by the powerful monarchy the centre of which was at Pella, and which
was included for two hundred years in the great Roman unity. Few countries in
the world were, in fact, purer in race than the countries situated between
Hæmus and the Mediterranean. That they were composed of diverse branches was
true, but each genuinely belonged to the Indo-European family, which were
superimposed on it. If we except some Phœnician influences coming from Thasos
and from Samothracia, almost nothing foreign had penetrated into the interior.
Thracia, which was in great part Celtic, had remained faithful to
Under the Romans, Macedonia remained a land worthy and
pure. It furnished to Brutus two excellent legions. We do not see the
Macedonians, like the Syrians, the Egyptians, the Asiatics, rushing to Rome in
order to enrich themselves with the fruits of their evil practices. Despite the
terrible substitution of races which followed, it may be said that
Macedonia has always preserved the same character. It is a country placed under
the normal conditions of European life,—wooded, fertile, watered by splendid
rivers, possessing interior sources of wealth; whilst that Greece, meagre, poor,
singular in everything, has nothing left it but glory and beauty. A land of
miracles, like Judæa and Sinai, Greece flourished once, but can never flourish
again. She has created something unique, which cannot be reproduced. It seems
that when God has once manifested Himself in a country, He blasts it for ever. A
laud of klephtes and of artists, Greece cannot again take an original part on
the day when the world enters into the channels of wealth, of industry, of
abundant consumption: she can only produce genius. In passing through it one is
astonished that a powerful race was able to live upon that pile of arid
mountains, in the middle of which is a somewhat humid and deep valley, a little
plain, a kilometre in extent—all this compels our wonder. Never has there been
so plainly seen the opposition which exists between opulence and high art.
Macedonia, on the contrary, will one day resemble Switzerland or the south of
Germany. Its villages are like clumps of gigantic trees. She has everything that
is required for becoming a country of great culture, and of great industry—vast
plains, rich mountains, verdant prairies, extended prospects, very different from
Embarking at Troas, Paul and his companions (Silas, Timothy, and probably Luke) set sail with a fair wind, touched the first evening at Samothracia, and the morrow approached Neapolis, a town situated upon a small promontory opposite the Isle of Thasos. Neapolis was the port of the great city of Philippi, situated about three leagues thence in the interior. It was the point where the great Egnatine road, which traversed Macedonia and Thracia from west to east, touched the sea. Taking this road, which they did not need to quit until reaching Thessalonica, the Apostles ascended the stony slope cut in the rocks which overlooked Neapolis, emerged from the little chain of mountains which forms the coast, and entered the beautiful plain in the centre of which stands, detached upon a projecting promontory of the mountain, the city of Philippi.
This rich plain, the lowest portion of which is composed of
a lake and of marshes, communicates with the basin of Strymon from behind
Pangea. The gold mines which at the Hellenic and Macedonian epoch had made the
country celebrated, were now almost abandoned. But the military importance of
the position of Philippi, squeezed in between the mountain and the morass, had
given to it a new life. The battle which ninety-four years before the arrival of
the Christian missionaries had opened its gates, brought to it an unexpected
splendour. Augustus had established there one of the most considerable
Philippi offered to the mission a most appropriate field.
We have already seen that in Galatia the Roman colonies of Antioch in Pisidia
and of Iconium had very favourably received the new doctrine. We shall observe
the same thing at Corinth and at Alexandria-Troas. The population, which had
been for a long time settled there, and possessing ancient local traditions,
gave few signs of innovations. The Jewry of Philippi, if there was one, was
little important; at most, it was limited probably to the women celebrating
the Sabbath. Even in the towns in which there were no Jews, the Sabbath was
usually celebrated by some of the people. In any case, it seems clear that
there was no synagogue there. When the apostolic band entered the city, it was
on the first day of the week. Paul, Silas, Timothy, and Luke remained some days
within doors, awaiting, according to custom, the Sabbath day. Luke, who knew
the country, remembered that the people who had adopted Jewish customs were wont
to assemble on that day without in the suburbs, upon the banks of a small
secluded rivulet, which issued from the ground a league and a half from the
city, from an enormous boiling spring, and which was called Gangas
In towns where there was no synagogue, the meetings of those who were affiliated to Judaism were held in small hypethral erections, or frequently simply in the open air in enclosed spaces, which were called proseuchæ. People delighted in establishing these oratories near the sea or rivers, so as to have facilities for ablutions. The Apostles repaired to the place indicated. Many women, in fact, resorted there for devotion. The Apostles spoke to them, and proclaimed to them the mystery of Jesus. They were listened to attentively. One woman, in particular, was touched. “The Lord,” says the writer of the Acts, “opened her heart.” She was called Lydia or Lydian, because she was from Thyatira. She traded in one of the principal products of Lydian industry—purple. She was a pious person, of the order of those who were called “believing in God,” that is to say, a Pagan by birth, but observing the precepts denominated “Noachic.” She was baptised, with all her house, and did not rest until, through much entreaty, she induced the four missionaries to take up their abode with her. They remained there some weeks, teaching each Sunday at the place of prayer, upon the banks of the Gangites.
A small Church, almost wholly composed of women, was
formed. It was very pious, very obedient, and most devoted to Paul. Besides
Lydia, this Church embraced within its bosom Evhodia and Syntyche,
The absolute purity of Christian manners disarmed all suspicion. Perhaps, moreover, it is not too audacious to suppose that it is Lydia whom Paul, in his Epistle to the Philippians, calls “my dear spouse.” That expression can be taken, if one so desires, as a simple metaphor. Is it, nevertheless, absolutely impossible that Paul may have contracted with that sister a union more intimate? The only thing certain is, that Paul did not take this sister with him in his journeys. Notwithstanding this, a whole branch of ecclesiastical tradition has claimed that he was married.
The character of the Christian woman became more and more
outlined. To the Jewish woman, sometimes so strong, so devoted; to the Syrian
woman, who is indebted to the soft languor of a distempered organisation for flashes of enthusiasm
An incident happened which hastened the departure of the
missionaries. The city began to speak of them, and public imagination was
engaged already upon the marvellous virtues which were attributed to them. One
morning, as they were repairing to the place of prayer, they encountered a young
slave—probably a ventriloquist—who passed for a witch, and predicted the
future. Her masters made a great deal of money out of that ignoble performance.
The poor girl, either because she possessed indeed a spirit of divination, or
because she was tired of her infamous calling, had no sooner perceived the
missionaries than she started to follow them, uttering
It would have been difficult to found a claim for indemnity upon such peculiar grounds. The plaintiffs laid special stress on the fact of the trouble caused in the city, and of illegal preaching. “They preach customs,” said they, “that we are not allowed to follow, inasmuch as we are Romans.” The city, in fact, was under the Italian law, and liberty of worship became the more constrained the nearer people were to the Roman city. The superstitious population, excited by the masters of the witch, made, at the same moment, a hostile demonstration against the Apostles. These sorts of petty uprisings were frequent in ancient towns. The newsmongers, the unemployed, the “plunderers of the agora,” as Demosthenes had already denominated them, lived on them. The duumvirs, believing that they were dealing with ordinary Jews, condemned—without informing themselves of, or inquiring into, the position of the accused—Paul and Silas to be beaten. The lictors divested the Apostles of their garments, and beat them cruelly in public. They were next cast into prison, put in one of the innermost cells, and had their feet made fast in the stocks.
Whether they had not been allowed to speak in their own
defence, or whether they purposely had courted the glory of suffering
humiliation for their Master, it does not appear that either Paul or Silas took
advantage of their title of citizens before
The two prisoners, once at liberty, repaired to the house of Lydia. They were received as martyrs. They addressed to the brethren a few parting words of exhortation and consolation, and departed. In no city had Paul ever been so beloved, and so much loved. Timothy, who was not implicated in the prosecution, and Luke, who played a secondary part, remained at Philippi. Luke did not see Paul again until five years after.
Paul and Silas, having departed from Philippi, followed the
Egnantine road, which led to Amphipolis. This was one of the most beautiful
day’s journey Paul ever experienced. In leaving the plain of
Philippi, the road enters a smiling valley, dominated by the peaks of Panga.
The natives cultivated there flax and the plants of the most temperate
countries. Large villages were to be seen in every indentation of the mountain.
The Roman road was made of marble flagstones. At each step, almost under every
plane tree, deep wells filled with water,
From Amphipolis the Apostles, after quitting the estuary of Strymon, proceeded between the sea and the mountain, across the thick woods and the prairies which extend to the sand on the sea shore. The first halt, under the plane trees, near a cooling fountain which issues from the sand, a few steps from the sea, is a delicious place. The Apostles then entered Aulon of Arethusa, a deep rent, a kind of Bosphorus cut perpendicularly, which served as an outlet from the interior lakes to the sea, and passed, probably without any one knowing it, by the side of the tomb of Euripides. The beauty of the trees, the freshness of the air, the rapidity of the waters, the strong growth of the ferns and shrubs of all kinds, recall the prospect of Grand Chartreuse or of Grésivaudan, thrown into the bottom of a furnace. The basin of the lakes of Mygdonia, in fact, is torrid, having, as we might say, surfaces of molten lead; the snakeweeds, raising their heads out of the water and seeking the shade, imprint there only a few wrinkles. The flocks, towards the south, crowded together round the foot of the trees, seem shrivelled up. If it were not for the hum of the insects and the song of the birds, which alone in creation can resist such oppression, it might be regarded as the kingdom of the dead.
Traversing the small town of Apollonia, without halting,
Paul skirted the south side of the lakes, and
Since the Roman domination, Thessalonica had become one of the most important commercial ports of the Mediterranean. It was a very wealthy and populous city. It had a grand synagogue, serving as a religious centre to the Judaism of Philippi, of Amphipolis, and of Apollonia, all of which had only oratories. Paul followed here his usual practice. For three consecutive Sabbaths he spoke in the synagogue, repeating his uniform discourse on Jesus, proving that he was the Messiah, that the Scriptures had found in him their fulfilment, that he had to suffer, and that he had risen again. Some Jews were converted; but the conversions were numerous, especially among the Greeks “fearing God.” It was always this class which furnished to the new faith its most zealous adherents.
The women came in crowds. All that was best in the feminine
society of Thessalonica had already for a long time observed the Sabbath and the Jewish
Paul and Silas lived at the house of one Jesus, an
Israelite by race, who, according to the usage of the Jews, had Grecianised his
name to that of Jason; but they would accept nothing but lodgings. Paul laboured
at his trade night and day, in order to cost the Church nothing. The rich purple
merchants of Philippi and the sisterhood would, moreover, have been grieved if
others than they had furnished to the Apostle the things requisite for
existence. On two occasions, during his sojourn at Thessalonica, Paul received
from Philippi an offering which he accepted. That was altogether contrary to his
principles; his rule was to maintain himself, without receiving anything from
the Churches; yet he would have made a scruple about refusing this present of
the heart: the pain that he would have given to pious women prevented him.
Perhaps, moreover, as we have already stated, he preferred to contract
obligations from the women, who never restrained his action, except in regard to men like Jason, in
Nowhere, it seems, had Paul so much as at Thessalonica succeeded in realising his ideal. The population to which he addressed himself was chiefly composed of laborious workmen; Paul entered into their spirit: he preached to them order, industry, and to hold fast to the good in sight of the heathen. A complete new series of precepts were added to his lessons; to wit, economy, application to business, industrial honour founded upon ease and independence. By a contrast, which ought not to surprise us, he expounded to them, at the same time, the most fantastic mysteries of the Apocalypse that had ever been described to them. The Church at Thessalonica was a model that Paul afterwards delighted to cite, and whose good odour, like a perfume of edification, spread everywhere. There were nominated, besides Jason, among the notables of the Church, Gaius, Aristarchus, and Secundus; Aristarchus was circumcised.
That which had happened twenty times before happened again
at Thessalonica. The discontented Jews fomented trouble. They employed a band of
idlers, of vagabonds, and of those poor creatures of every description who in
ancient cities passed the day and night under the columns of the basilicas,
ready to make a noise for whoever paid them for it. They went in a body to
assail the house of Jason. They called loudly for Paul and Silas. As they did
not find them, the rioters seized Jason, together with some of the faithful, and
brought them before the politarcs or magistrates. The most confusing cries were
raised. “Revolutionaries are in the city,” said some, “and Jason has received
them.” “All these people,” said others, “are in revolt
against the edicts of the emperor.” “They have a king they call Jesus,” said a third
The Jews of Beræa were more liberal and better educated than those of Thessalonica. They listened willingly, and allowed Paul, without interruption, to expound his ideas in the synagogue. For several days it was to them a lively source of curiosity. They passed the time in perusing the Scriptures, in order to find there the texts cited by Paul, and to see whether they were correct. Many were converted, among others a certain Jew, named Sopater or Sosipater, son of Pyrrhus. Here, nevertheless, as in all the other Churches of Macedonia, the women were in the majority. The converts belonged all to the Greek race, to that class of devout persons who, without being Jews, practised the Jewish ceremonies. Many Greeks and proselytes were also converted, and the synagogue for once remained peaceable. The storm came from Thessalonica. The Jews of that city, learning that Paul had preached with success at Beræa, came to the latter city, and renewed there their plotting. Paul was again obliged to depart hurriedly, and without taking Silas with him. Many of the brethren of Beræa accompanied him as an escort.
The warning given by the synagogues of Macedonia was such
that sojourning in this country seemed to have become impossible to Paul. He saw
himself tracked from city to city, and the rioters to spring up, as it were,
from under his feet. The Roman police were not very hostile to him; but they
acted in the circumstances according to the
Thus ended that brilliant Macedonian mission, the most
successful of any that Paul had as yet accomplished. Churches composed of
entirely new elements had been formed. It was no longer the easy-going Syrian
woman, the good-natured Lycaonian woman; it was the subtle, delicate, elegant,
spiritual races, who, prepared by Judaism, now embraced the new religion. The
coast of Macedonia was completely covered with Greek colonies. The Greek genius
had there borne its choicest fruits. These noble Churches of Philippi and of
Thessalonica, composed of the most distinguished women of each city, were
unquestionably the two greatest conquests that Christianity had yet made. The
Jewish woman was outstripped; submissive, retired, and obedient, participating
little in religion, the latter was not easily converted. It was the woman
“fearing God,” the Greek woman, wearied of the goddesses brandishing their
spears on the summit of the Acropolis, the virtuous woman turning her back on a
worn-out Paganism, and seeking the pure religion, who was attracted heavenwards.
These were the second foundresses of our faith. Next to the Galileans who
followed Jesus and served him, Lydia, Phœbe, the obscure pious women of
Philippi and of Thessalonica
Paul, accompanied still by the faithful Beræans, sailed for Athens. From the end of the Gulf of Thermmus to Phalera, or to Piræus, the voyage in a small craft occupies three or four days. The traveller passes the foot of Olympus, of Ossa, and of Pelion; he follows the sinuosities of the interior sea which Eubœa separates from the rest of the Ægæan Sea, and touches the singularly narrow strait of Euripus. On either bank one skirts that truly holy ground where perfection is at once discovered, where the ideal has really existed,—that soil which has seen the noblest of races found at once art, science, philosophy, and politics. Paul, no doubt, experienced on landing there that species of filial sentiment which cultivated men experience when touching this venerated soil. It was another world: his holy ground was elsewhere.
Greece had not recovered from the terrible blows she had
received during the previous centuries. Like the sons of Earth, these
aristocratic tribunes had torn one another to pieces; the Romans had completely
exterminated them; the old families had nearly disappeared; the ancient cities
of Thebes and of Argos had become poor villages; Olympus and Sparta had been
humiliated; Athens and Corinth were the sole survivors. The country was almost
a desert: the images of desolation which we gather from the descriptions of Polybius, Cicero,
The race, if we except Corinth, had, however, remained quite pure; the number of Jews outside of Corinth was inconsiderable. Greece had received but a single Roman colony. The invasions of slaves and of Albanians, which have so completely changed the Hellenic blood, did not take place till later. The old religions were still flourishing. Some women, unknown to their husbands, practised much in secret, at the far corner of the gymnasiums, the foreign superstitions, especially those of the Egyptians. The sages, however, protested. “What a God he must be,” said they, “who is pleased with the surreptitious homage of married women! A wife ought not to have other friends besides those of her husband. The gods, are they not our best friends?”
It seems that, either during the voyage or at the moment of
his arrival in Athens, Paul regretted having left his companions in Macedonia.
Perhaps that new world astonished him, and he found him-self there too much
isolated. What is certain is, that in dismissing the faithful Beræans he charged
Paul therefore found himself for some days alone at Athens. This had not happened to him for a long time. His life had been as a whirlwind, and he had never journeyed without two or three companions. Athens, to the world, was something unique—at all events, something totally different from anything that Paul had seen before; hence, he was extremely embarrassed. In waiting for his companions, he amused himself by roaming, in the widest sense, over the city. The Acropolis, with the innumerable statues which covered it, and which constituted it a museum such as had never before been seen, must, in particular, have been to him a subject of the deepest reflection.
Athens, although she had suffered much from Sylla,
although, like Greece, she had been pillaged by the Roman administrators, and
was already in part despoiled by the gross avidity of its masters, had yet the
appearance of being ornamented with almost all her master-pieces of art. The
monuments of the Acropolis were intact. Some clumsy additions of detail, quite a
sufficient number of mediocre works which were already glittering in the
sanctuary of high art, some silly substitutions, which consisted in placing
Romans on the pedestals of ancient Greeks, had not changed the sanctity of that
immaculate temple of the beautiful. Pœcile, with its brilliant decoration, was
as fresh as it was on the fast day. The exploits of the odious Secundus Carinas,
the purveyor of statues for the gilded House, did not commence until some years
after, and Athens suffered less from this than did Delphos and Olympus. The
false taste of the Romans for colonnaded cities had not penetrated here; the
houses were poor and by no means commodious. That exquisite city was moreover an irregular city,
Surrounded by so many things which he did not understand,
there were two which greatly struck the Apostle: first, the very religious
character of the Athenians, which was manifested by a multitude of temples,
altars, and sanctuaries of every description, symbols of a tolerant eclecticism
which they carried into religion; in the second place, certain anonymous altars
which were erected to the “unknown gods.” These altars were somewhat numerous at
Athens and in the environs. Other cities of Greece possessed them also. Those
at the port of Phalera (Paul must have seen them on landing) were celebrated;
they belonged to the legends of the Trojan War. They bore this
inscription:—
ΑΓΗΩΣΤΩΙΘΕΩΙ
“To an unknown God.” These altars owed their existence to the extreme scrupulousness of the Athenians for things religious, and to their habit of seeing in everything the manifestation of a mysterious and special power. Fearing, without knowing it, to offend some god of whose name they were ignorant, or of neglecting a powerful god, or even of wishing to obtain a favour which might depend upon a certain divinity with whom they were unacquainted, they either erected anonymous altars, or placed up the afore-mentioned inscriptions. It is possible, too, that these fanciful inscriptions were taken from altars which were originally anonymous, to which, in the work of making a general census, had to be affixed some such an epigraph, for lack of the knowledge of that which properly belonged to them. Paul was greatly surprised at these dedications. Interpreting them with his Jewish mind, he imputed to them a meaning which did not belong to them. He believed that they had reference to a God called par excellence “The Unknown God.” He saw in that Unknown God the God of the Jews, the only God, towards whom Paganism itself might have had some mysterious aspirations. This idea was the more natural, because in the eyes of Pagans that which in particular characterised the God of the Jews was, that he was a God without name, a doubtful God. It was further probable that it was in some religious ceremony, or m some philosophical discussion, that Paul heard the hemistiche:—
Τοῦ γὰρ χαὶ γένος ἐσμέν
borrowed from the hymn of Cleanthes to Jupiter, or from the Phenomena of Aratus, and which was frequently used in the religious hymns. He grouped in his mind those features of local colouring, and sought to compose a discourse on them appropriate to his new auditors: for he felt that here it was necessary for him to modify greatly his preaching.
Certain it is Athens was far from being then what she had
been for centuries, the centre of human progress, the capital of the republic of
mind. Faithful to her ancient character, this divine mother of art was one of
the last asylums of liberalism and of the republican spirit. She was what might
be called a city of opposition. Athens was always on the side of the lost cause.
She energetically declared for the independence of Greece, and for Mithridates
against the Romans, for Pompey against Cæsar, for the republicans against the
triumvirs, for Antony against Octavius. She raised statues to Brutus and to
Cassius by the side of those of Harmodius and of Aristogiton; she honoured
Germanicus to the point of compromising herself; she merited the insults of
Piso. Sylla plundered her in an atrocious manner, and dealt the final blow to
her democratic constitution. Augustus, although merciful to her, did not show
her any favour. Her title as a free city was never taken away, but the
privileges of free cities were gradually diminished under the Cæsars and the
Flavii. Athens was thus in the condition of a city suspected and disgraced, but
justly ennobled through her disgrace. At the advent of Nerva, there began for
her a second life. The world, having returned to reason and to virtue,
recognised its mother. Nerva, Herod Atticus, Hadrian, Antonine, Marcus Aurelius,
restored her, endowing her even with monuments and new institutions. Athens
became again for four centuries the city of philosophers, of artists, of genius, the holy
But let us not anticipate events. At the sad moment at
which we are now arrived, the ancient splendour had disappeared, and the new had
not yet dawned. She was no longer “the city of Theseus,” and was not yet “the
city of Hadrian.” In the century before our era, the philosophic school of
Athens had been very brilliant; Philo of Larissa, and Antiochus of Ascalon, had
continued or modified the academy; Cratippus taught there peripatetics, and
understood how to be at once the friend, the master, the consoler, or the
protégé of Pompey, of Cæsar, of Cicero, and of Brutus. Romans, the most
celebrated and most eminent in business, attracted to the Orient by ambition,
halted at Athens to listen to the philosophers in vogue. Atticus, Crassus,
Cicero, Varro, Ovid, Horace, Agrippa, Virgil, either studied or resided there as
amateurs. Brutus passed there his last winter, dividing his time between the
peripatetic Cratippus and the academician Theomnestus. Athens was, on the eve of
the battle of Philippi, a centre of opinion of the highest importance. The
instruction which was given there was entirely philosophic, and much superior to
the insipid eloquence of the school of Rhodes. That which was indeed prejudicial
to Athens was the advent of Augustus and the universal pacification. The
precepts of philosophy were from that time suspected—the schools lost their
importance and their activity. Rome, on the other hand, by reason of the
brilliant literary evolution which she had achieved, became for some time
semi-independent of Greece in regard to matters of thought. Other centres were
formed: as a school of varied instruction, Marseilles was preferred. The
original philosophy of the four great sects had come to an end. Eclecticism, a sort of flabby, unsystematic
She still preserved, however, a great portion of her
nobility. She still occupied the first rank in the regards of the world. Despite
the harshness of the times, the respect for Athens was profound, and every one
bowed to her. Sylla, though so terrible in consequence of her rebellion, had
pity on her. Pompey and Cæsar, before the battle of Pharsalia, caused it to be
proclaimed by a herald that all the Athenians were to be spared, as priests of
the goddesses Thesmophores. Pompey gave a large sum of money to adorn the city:
Cæsar refrained from avenging himself on her, and contributed to the erection of
one of the monuments. Brutus and Cassius, who comported themselves as private persons,
Religion was one of the principal causes of this
exceptional favour. Essentially municipal and political in its origin, having
for its basis the myths relating to the foundation of the city and to its
divine protectors, the religion of Athens was at first only the religious
consecration of patriotism and of the institutions of the city. It was the cult
of the Acropolis. “Aglaure” and the oath which the young Athenians took upon
the altar had no other meaning; just as if religion with us consisted in drawing
the conscription, in drilling, and in honouring the colours. It soon became
insipid enough; it possessed nothing
But it was principally as a city of schools that Athens exercised a peculiar prestige. That new destiny which, through the assiduity of Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius, came to possess a character so decided, had been begun two centuries before. The city of Miltiades and Pericles had been transformed into a university city, a sort of Oxford, the resort of all the young noblesse, who scattered gold in handfuls. It contained nothing but professors, philosophers, rhetoricians, pedagogues of every description, sophmores, tutors, gymnasts, pædotribes, hoplomates, masters of fencing and of riding. From the time of Hadrian the cosmetists or prefects of the students assumed to a certain extent the importance and the dignity of the archons. People fixed the date of the years by them: the old Greek education, destined in principle to form the free citizen, became the pedagogic law of the human species. Alas! she produces henceforth little else than rhetoricians; bodily exercises, formerly a real occupation of the heroes upon the banks of the Illissus, became now a mere matter of pose. A circus grandeur, the gestures of Franconi, have replaced solid grandeur. But it is the peculiar attribute of Greece to have ennobled everything. Even the work of the schoolman became with her a moral ministry. The dignity of the professor, in spite of more than one abuse, was one of her creations. The jeunesse dorée could sometimes remember the fine discourses of its masters. She was, like all youths, republican; she flocked to the appeal of Brutus; she was mown down at Philippi. The day was employed in declaiming on tyrannicide and on liberty, in celebrating the noble death of Cato, and in making a eulogy on Brutus.
The population had always been sprightly, spirituelle,
curious. Every one lived in the open air, in perpetual contact with the rest of the world, breathing,
This was for Paul a species of existence altogether new. The cities in which he had up till now preached were for the most part commercial cities, resembling Leghorn or Trieste, and having large Jewries rather than brilliant centres, cities of the great world and of great culture. Athens was profoundly Pagan; Paganism was bound up with every pleasure, with every interest, with every glory of the city. Paul hesitated a great deal. Timothy at length arrived from Macedonia; Silas, for reasons which we do not know was not able to come.
There was a synagogue at Athens, and Paul disputed in it with the Jews, and with the “devout persons;” but in such a city any successes in the synagogue counted for little. That brilliant agora in which was displayed so much mind, that portico Pœcile in which was asked every conceivable question, tempted him. He spoke there not as a preacher addressing himself to the multitude assembled, but as a stranger feeling his way—putting forth his ideas timidly, and seeking to create for himself some point d’appui. “Jesus and the resurrection” (anastasis) appeared foreign words, and destitute of meaning. Several of them, as it would appear, took anastasis for the name of a goddess, and believed that Jesus and Anastasia were some new divine couple that these Oriental dreamers had come to preach. Some Epicurean and Stoic philosophers, it is said, came near and listened.
This first contact of Christianity with Greek philosophy
was not very encouraging. We have never seen a better example of how men of mind
ought to distrust themselves and to guard against laughing at an idea, however
foolish it may seem to them. The bad Greek spoken by Paul, his incorrect and
halting phraseology, were not calculated to make him accredited at Athens. The
philosophers turned their backs disdainfully at his barbarous speech. “He is a babbler” (spermologos), said some. “He
is a preacher of strange gods,” said others. No one could have
suspected that this babbler would one day supplant them, and that, four hundred
and seventy-four years later, their professorships would be suppressed as
useless and injurious, in consequence of the preaching of Paul. What a grand
lesson! Proud of their superiority, the Athenian philosophers disdained the
questions pertaining to popular religion. In their midst superstition
flourished. Athens almost equalled in that
The liberal spirit which reigned at Athens assured Paul of
complete security. Neither Jews nor Pagans attempted anything against him; but
that tolerance was even worse than hatred. Moreover, the new doctrine produced a
lively reaction, at least in the Jewish society; here it could find only
curious and blasé auditors. It appears that one day the auditors of Paul,
wishing to obtain from him a sort of official exposition of his doctrine,
conducted him to the Hill of Mars, and there summoned him to declare what
religion he preached. It is indeed possible that there is some legend here, and
that the celebrity of the Areopagus may have led the narrator of the Acts, who
had not been an eyewitness, to select this illustrious audience to enable him
to deliver on his hero a pompous discourse, a philosophic harangue. This
hypothesis, nevertheless, is not necessary. The Areopagus had retained, under
the Romans, Its ancient organisation. It had even seen its prerogatives
increased, as a result of the policy which led the conquerors to suppress in
Greece the ancient democratic institutions, and to replace them by the Council
of Notables. The Areopagus had always been the aristocratic corporation of
Athens: it gained what the democracy had lost. Let us add that people were
living in an epoch of literary dilettanteism, and that that tribunal, by its
classic celebrity, enjoyed a great prestige. Its moral authority
“Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are
too superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an
altar with this inscription:—‘To the Unknown God.’ Whom, therefore,
ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you. God that made the world, and all
things therein, seeing that he is lord of earth, dwelleth not in temples made
with hands, neither is worshipped with men’s hands, as though he needed
anything, seeing he giveth to all life and breath, and all things. And hath made of one blood all nations of
At these words, according to the narrator, Paul was interrupted. Hearing him speak of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked, and others said:—“We will hear thee again of this matter.”
If the discourse which we have just related was really
delivered, it must indeed have produced a very singular impression upon the
cultivated minds which heard it. That almost barbarous speech, now incorrect and
formless, now scrupulously correct; that unequal eloquence, strewn with happy
fancies and disagreeable failings; that profound philosophy, embracing beliefs
the most singular, and extending, seemingly, to another world. Immensely
superior to the popular religion of Greece, such a doctrine was in many things
below the level of the current philosophy of the age. If, on the one hand, it
extended the hand to that philosophy through the elevated notion of divinity
and the beautiful theory which it proclaimed of the moral unity of the human
mind, on the other, it embraced in part supernatural
Whether it was delivered by Paul, or by one of his
disciples, this discourse, in any case, shows us an endeavour, almost the only
one in the first century, made to reconcile Christianity with philosophy, and
even, in one sense, with Paganism. The author, giving proof of a breadth of
views most remarkable amongst the Jews, discovers in all races a sort of innate
sense of the divine, a sort of secret instinct of monotheism which might lead to
the knowledge of the true God. To be believed in, Christianity is nothing more
than natural religion, which one arrives at by consulting simply one’s own
heart, and by interrogating oneself conscientiously—the two-sided idea which
was soon to reproach Christianity with deism, and to inspire a pride
of which it had been shorn. This is the first example given of the tactics of
certain apologists of Christianity, in advance of philosophy, using or feigning
to use scientific language; speaking with complaisance or politeness of the
reason advanced by the other side of wishing to have it believed, by means of
skilfully grouped quotations, that in the main it might be understood by
lettered people; but which led to misunderstandings that were inevitable, for they plainly declared
Be that as it may, the times were far from being ripe for such an alliance; at any rate, it was not to take place at Athens. Athens, at the point which it had reached in history, that city of grammarians, of gymnasts, and of fencing-masters, was likewise as ill adapted as it was possible to be, for receiving Christianity. The power over vassals, the hardness of heart of the schoolman, were unpardonable sins in the eyes of grace. The pedagogue is the least convertible of men; for he has a religion of his own, which is routine, faith in old authors, and a taste for literary exercises. This satisfies him, and extinguishes in him all other desires. There has been found at Athens a series of hermes-portraits of cosmetics of the second century. The latter are splendid men, grave, majestic, with a noble mien, and yet Hellenic. From the inscriptions we learn of the honours and pensions which were conferred on them: the really great men of the ancient democracy never had so many of these. Assuredly if Paul had encountered some of the predecessors of these superb pedants, he could not have achieved much more success than, during the Empire, would have had a romancist imbued with neo-Catholicism, attempting to convert to his views a Universitarian attached to the religion of Horace, or than would in our own days a socialist humanitarian declaiming against English prejudices before the fellows of Oxford or Cambridge.
In a society so different from that in which he had till now lived, in the midst of rhetoricians and professors of dialectics, Paul found himself indeed from home. His thoughts constantly reverted to the dear Churches of Macedonia and Galatia, where he had discovered such an exquisite religious sentiment. He thought many times of departing for Thessalonica. A lively desire carried him thence, the more so as he had received news that the faith of the young Church had been subjected to many severe tests, and he feared that the proselytes might succumb to the temptations. Some obstacles, that he attributed to Satan, prevented him from carrying out that project. When he could no longer forbear, as he himself said, he separated once more from Timothy, whom he sent to Thessalonica to confirm, to exhort, and to console the faithful, and remained alone again at Athens.
He laboured there with renewed vigour, but the soil was unpropitious. The sprightly Athenian mind was diametrically opposed to that tender and profound religious disposition which produced conversions, and which was predestined to Christianity. The truly Hellenic ground was little inclined to the doctrine of Jesus. Plutarch, living in an atmosphere purely Greek, had not the least wind of it in the first half of the second century. Patriotism, attachment to old recollections of country, turned the Greeks against exotic worships. “Hellenism” became an organised, almost rational religion, which admitted a great part of philosophy. The “gods of Greece” appeared to wish to be regarded as the universal gods of humanity.
That which characterised the religion of Greece formerly,
that which still characterises it in our day, is the want of infinity, of the
unconfined, of compassion, of feminine softness. The profoundness of German and
Celtic religious sentiment is lacking in
Such a race, one can understand, would have received Jesus
with a smile. It was a subject these exquisite children were incapable of
learning from us—serious, profound, really simple devotion without glory,
goodness without parade. Socrates is a moralist of the first order, but he has
nothing to do with the history of religion. The Greek always appears to us a
little cold and heartless; he has wit, action, subtlety, but has nothing of the
pensive or the melancholic. On the other hand, with us Celts and Germans, the
source of our genius is our heart. Our deepest recesses (au fond de nous)
resemble a fairy fountain, a fountain clear, fresh, and deep, in which is
reflected the infinite. With the Greek, love of self and vanity is mixed with
everything; vague sentiment is unknown to him; reflection upon his own destiny
ap-pears to him unprofitable. Pushed to the length of caricature, so incomplete
a mode of understanding life as it is conditioned, at the Roman epoch, the græculus esuriens,
grammarian, artist, charlatan, acrobat,
physician, amuser of the whole world, greatly resembling the Italian of the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; at the Byzantine epoch, the theological
sophist making religion degenerate into subtle disputes; in our day, the modern
Greek, sometimes foolishly vain and ungrateful; the orthodox fathers, with
their egotistical and materialistic religion. Unfortunate he who arrests that
decadence! Shame upon him who, in front of the Parthenon, dreams of holding it
up to ridicule! Nevertheless, this has to be acknowledged: Greece was never
seriously Christian, nor is she to this day. No race in our Middle Ages was
less romantic, more destitute of chivalrous sentiment. Plato built all his
theory of the beautiful en se passant without reference to woman. To think of a
woman in order to be incited
The same difference is found between the piety of St
Bernard, of St François d’Assisi, and that of the saints of the Greek Church.
These splendid schools of Capadocia, of Syria, of Egypt, of the Fathers of the
desert, approximate the philosophical schools. The popular holy writings of the
Greeks are more mythological than those of the Latins. The majority of the
saints represented in the iconostase of a Greek house, before which a lamp
burns, are not great authors, great men like saints of the West: they are often
fanciful beings, old gods transfigured, or at least a combination of historic
and mythological personages, like St George. And that admirable temple of St
Sophia! It is an Aryan temple: the whole human species might have made its
prayers there. Not having had either people, inquisition, scholasticism, or
Middle Age barbarism, having always preserved a leaven of Arianism, Greece
rejected with greater facility than any other country a supernatural
Christianity, just as those Athenians of former times were at once (thanks to a
sort of vivacity which was a thousand times more profound than the seriousness
of our dull races) the most superstitious of peoples, and the nearest approach
to Rationalism. The popular Greek songs are still to-day charged with Pagan
images and ideas. Differing so widely from the West, the East remained during the Middle Ages, and down to modern
Wearied by his little success at Athens, Paul, without awaiting the return of Timothy, departed for Corinth. He had not formed at Athens any considerable Church. There were only a few isolated persons, among others a certain Dionysius, who belonged, it is said, to the Areopagus, and a woman, named Damaris, who had adhered to his doctrines. This was, then, in his apostolic career, his first and almost only check.
Even in the second century the Church at Athens is of
little importance. Athens was one of the cities which was the last to be
converted. After Constantine, she is the centre of opposition against
Christianity, the bulwark of philosophy. By a rare privilege she preserved the
temples intact. These prodigious monuments, protected through the ages, thanks
to a sort of instinctive respect, were to come down to us as an eternal lesson
of good sense and honesty, given by artists of genius. Even to-day we feel that
the Christian covering which is spread over the old Pagan foundation is very superficial.
Departing from Phalera or Piræus, Paul arrived at Cenchrea, which was the port of Corinth on the Ægæan Sea. It is a pretty enough little harbour. It is surrounded by verdant hills and pine woods, and is situated at the extremity of the Gulf of Saronica. A beautiful open valley, nearly two leagues in extent, reaches from that port to the great city built at the foot of the colossal dome from which can be seen the two seas.
Corinth was a field much better adapted than Athens to
receive the new seed. It was not like Athens a sort of sanctuary of thought, a
city sacred and unique to the world; it was even hardly a Hellenic city. Ancient
Corinth had been razed to. its foundations by Mummius. For a hundred
years the soil of the Achaian Confederation was desert. In the year 44 B.C.
Julius Cæsar rebuilt the city and made it an important Roman colony, which he
peopled principally with freedmen. This is equivalent to saying that the
population was very heterogeneous. It was composed of a conglomeration of those
peoples of every sort and of every origin which loved Cæsar. The new
Corinthians remained for a long time strangers to Greece, where they were
regarded as intruders. Their entertainments consisted of the brutal games of
the Romans, which were repulsive to true Greeks. Corinth became thus a city
There was at Corinth a colony of Jews, which was probably
established at Cenchrea, one of the ports which was used in trading with the
East. A short time before the arrival of Paul, a colony of Jews, which had been
expelled from Rome by the edict of Claudius, had disembarked, and among the
number were Aquila and Priscilla, who, it seems, at that time already professed
the faith of Christ. From all this there resulted a concomitance of
circumstances most favourable. The isthmus formed between the two masses of the
Greek continent has always been the seat of a world-wide commerce. It had always
been one of those emporiums, quite irrespective of race or of nationality,
designed to be the headquarters, if I might say so, of infant Christianity. New
Corinth, on account of its having few Hellenic nobility, was a city already
semi-christianised. With Antioch, Ephesus, Thessalonica, and Rome, she became an
ecclesiastical metropolis of the first rank. But the
Paul quickly divined that a long sojourn at Corinth would be necessary. He resolved hence to take up there a fixed abode, and to prosecute his trade of upholsterer. Now, strictly speaking, Aquila and Priscilla followed the same trade as Paul. He went there to live with them, and the three set up a small shop, which was stocked by them with ready-made articles.
Timothy, whom Paul had sent from Athens to Thessalonica, soon rejoined him. The news from the Church at Thessalonica was excellent. All the faithful continued in the faith and in charity, and in their attachment to their master. The persecutions of their fellow-citizens had not shaken them; brotherly love prevailed throughout Macedonia. Silas, whom Paul had not seen since his flight from Beræa, had probably been joined by Timothy, and returned with the latter. What is certain is, that the three companions found themselves reunited at Corinth, and that they lived there together for a long time.
The attention of Paul was, as usual, first directed to the
Jews. Each Sabbath he spoke in the synagogue. He found there dispositions greatly diverse, One
family, that of Stephenephorus or Stephanus, was converted, and were all
baptised by Paul. The orthodox resisted energetically, even to the extent of
injuring and of anathematising them. One day, finally, there was an open
rupture. Paul shook the dust off his raiment upon the incredulous of the
assembly, made them responsible for the consequences, and declared to them
that, seeing they closed their ears to the truth, he would go unto
Many others, both Jews and Pagans, and those “fearing God,”
were baptised. The number of converted Pagans appeared to be here relatively
considerable. Paul displayed prodigious zeal. Several divine visions which came
to him during the night fortified him. The fame of the conversions he had made
at Thessalonica, nevertheless, preceded him, and had favourably disposed the
religious society in his behalf. The supernatural phenomena were not wanting:
there were some miracles. Innocence was not the same thing here as at Philippi
and Thessalonica. The corrupt manners of Corinth crossed sometimes the
threshold of the Church; at any rate, all those who entered it were not equally
pure. But, in return, few of the Churches were more numerous; the community of
Corinth irradiated the whole province of Achaia, and became the home of
Christianity in the Hellenic peninsula. Without speaking of Aquila and of
Priscilla—almost received in the rank of apostles—and of Titus Justus, of
Crispus, of Stephanus—mentioned above—the Church numbered in its bosom Gaius,
who was himself also baptised by Paul, and who extended hospitality to the
Apostle during the second sojourn of the latter in Corinth; Quartus, Achaicus,
Fortunatus, Erastus, rather an important personage, who was treasurer of the
city; a woman named Chloe, who had a numerous household. We have only vague and
uncertain notions in regard to one Zenas, a doctor of Jewish law. Stephanus and
his household constituted the most influential group, the one
The port of Cenchrea had likewise its Church. Cenchrea was in great part peopled by Orientals. There one could reverence Isis and Eschmoun, while the Phœnician Venus was not neglected. It was like Calamaki in our days, less a city than a mass of shops and inns for seafaring men. In the midst of the corruption of these filthy hovels of seafarers, Christianity produced its miracle. Cenchrea possessed an admirable deaconess, who, one day, as we shall see later on, concealed under the folds of her woman’s garments the whole future of Christian theology, the writing which was to regulate the faith of the world. She was named Phœbe. She was an active person, never at rest, always eager to render service, and who was very precious to Paul.
The sojourn of Paul at Corinth lasted for eighteen months.
The beautiful rock of Acrocorinth, the snowy summits of Helicon and of
Parnassus, remained for a long time in his regards. Paul contracted in that
new religious family some deep friendships, although the taste of the Greeks for
disputation displeased him; while on more than one occasion his natural
timidity may have been increased by the disposition of his auditors to subtlety.
He could not detach himself from Thessalonica, from the simplicity he had found
there, from the lively affections he had there left behind him. The Church at
Thessalonica was the model which he never ceased to proclaim, and to-wards which
he always reverted. The Church at Philippi, with its pious women, its rich and
good Lydia, was not allowed to be forgotten. That
It was with difficulty, nevertheless, that the anger of the
orthodox Jews, always so active, was restrained from breaking out. The
preachings of the Apostle to the Gentiles, his broad principles in regard to the
adoption of all those who believed, and their incorporation into the family of
Abraham, irritated to the highest pitch the partisans of the exclusive
privilege of the children of Israel. The Apostle, on his part, was not very
sparing in hard words. He announced to them that the anger of God was about to
break out against them. The Jews had recourse to the Roman authorities. Corinth
was the capital of the province of Achaia, comprising the whole of Greece, and
which ordinarily was joined to Macedonia. The two provinces had been made
senatorials by Claudius, and in virtue of which they had a pro-consul. That
position was filled at the time of which we speak by one of the most amiable and
best instructed men of the century—Marcus Annæus Novatus, elder brother of
Seneca. who had been adopted by the rhetorician L. Junius Gallio, one of the
litterateurs of the society of the Senecas: Marcus Annæus Novatus took hence
the name of Gallio. He had a great mind and a noble soul, was a friend of the
poets and of the celebrated authors. Every one who knew him adored him. Statius
called him dulcis Gallio, and probably he was the author of some of the
tragedies which proceeded from that literary roof. He wrote, it seems, upon natural philosophy.
Such a man was little disposed to agree to the demands of
fanatics coming to ask the civil power, which they protested against in secret,
to rid them of their enemies. One day Sosthenes, the new ruler of the synagogue,
who had succeeded Crispus, brought Paul before the judgment seat, and accused
him of preaching a religion contrary to the law. Judaism, in fact, which had old
authorisations, and all sorts of guarantees, pretended that the dissentient
sect, as soon as they had made a schism in the synagogue, enjoyed no longer the
charters of a synagogue. The situation was one which would have brought before
the French law liberal Protestants on the day they separated themselves from
recognised Protestantism. Paul was going to answer, but Gallio restrained him,
and, addressing the Jews, said: “If it were a matter of wrong or wicked
lewdness, O ye Jews, reason were that I should bear with you; but if it be a
question of words and of names, and of your law, look ye to it, for I will be no
judge of such matters.” This was an admirable response, worthy of
being set up as a model to civil governments when they are invited to meddle
with religious questions. Gallio, after he had pronounced it, gave orders to
drive away both parties. A great tumult ensued. Everybody was seized with the
desire to fall upon Sosthenes, and he was beaten
No doubt it would have been wiser not to appear so
disdainful. Gallio was well inspired in declaring himself to be incompetent to
judge in a question of schism and of heresy; but yet men of mind have sometimes
little prescience! It was discovered later that the quarrel of these abject
sectaries was the great affair of the century. If, instead of treating a
religious and social question with that unceremoniousness, the government had
taken the trouble to make an impartial investigation, to make a searching public
investigation, and to discontinue giving an official sanction to a religion
become completely absurd; if Gallio had been disposed to take into account what
it was that constituted a Jew and a Christian, to read Jewish books, to keep
himself au courant of what was passing in the subterranean world; if the Romans
had not been so narrow-minded, so little addicted to the study of science, many
misfortunes would have been avoided. How very singular! There was, in the case
now under consideration, on the one hand, a man who was one of the most
intellectual and the most studious; on the other, a soul which was one of the
most robust and the most original of his time, and they passed the one before
the other without either perceiving the fact; and, surely, if the first blows
had fallen upon Paul instead of upon Sosthenes, Gallio would have been equally
indifferent. One of the things which causes the most faults to be committed by
people of the world, is the superficial disgust which badly educated and
unmannerly people inspire in them yet
These difficulties, however, were not the only ones that the Apostle had to encounter. The Corinthian mission was thwarted by obstacles which, for the first time, he had met with in his Apostolic career,—obstacles proceeding from the bosom of the Church itself, from intractable men who had been introduced to it, and who opposed him, or from many Jews who had been attracted to Jesus, but more attached than Paul to legal observances. The false spirit of the degenerated Greek who, starting from the fourth century, corrupted Christianity so much, was already making itself felt. The Apostle then called to mind his beloved Churches at Macedonia, that unlimited docility, that purity of morals, that frank cordiality, which had procured for him at Philippi and Thessalonica such happy days. He was seized with an ardent desire to go and see once more the faithful of the Lord, and when be received from them an expression of the same desire, he could hardly restrain himself. In order to comfort himself in this embarrassment, and to protect himself from the importunities of those with whom he was surrounded, it pleased him to write to them. The epistles dated from Corinth bear the imprint of a kind of sadness,—praises of the most lofty description for those to whom Paul wrote; but these letters were completely silent, or contained some unfavourable allusions to those from whose midst he wrote.
It was at Corinth that the apostolic life of Paul attained its highest degree of activity. To the cares of the grand Christianity which he was engaged in founding, he had just added the prepossessions of the communities that he had left behind him. A sort of jealousy, as he has told us himself, devoured him. He thought less at that moment of founding new Churches than of caring for those which he had created. Each of his Churches was to him as a bride which he had promised to Christ, and which he wished to preserve pure. The power that he claimed over these little corporations was absolute. A certain number of rules, which he regarded as having been laid down by Jesus himself, was the sole canonical law anterior to himself that he recognised. He was thought to have divine inspiration for adding to those rules all those which the new circumstances called for, and which had to be obeyed. But was not his example a supreme rule to which all his spiritual children might conform themselves?
Timothy, whom he employed to visit the Churches that were
far away from him, could not, had he been indefatigable, satisfy the immense
ardour of his master. It was then that Paul conceived the idea of supplying by
correspondence what he was prevented from saying himself or through his
principal disciples. There did not exist in the Roman Empire anything which
resembled our postal establishment for private letters; all correspondence had to be
The condition of the new sect, in fact, did not by any
means permit of connected discourse. Infant Christianity was wholly disengaged
from texts. The hymns even were composed by each for him-self, and were not
written. People believed in watching for the final catastrophe. The sacred
Paul, as regarded himself, had not a mind adapted to the
composition of books. He had not the patience that is required for writing; he
was incapable of system; the labour of the pen was disagreeable to him, and he
preferred to delegate it to others. Correspondence, on the contrary, so
obnoxious to those who are accustomed to employ art in putting forth their
ideas, suited well his feverish activity, and the necessity of expressing on the
spur of the moment his impressions. Now brisk, crude, polite, snarlish,
sarcastic, then suddenly tender, delicate, almost roguish and coaxing; happily
expressed and polished to the highest degree; skilful in sprinkling his
language with reticences, reserves, infinite precautions, malignant allusions,
and ironical dissimulations, he came to excel in a style which required above
everything original impulses. The epistolary style of Paul is the most
individual that we have ever had. Its language, if I may say so, is ground up
(hoyēe), without a single consecutive phrase. It would be impossible to violate
more audaciously, I do not say the genius of the Greek language, but the logic of
Even when Paul corresponded directly, he did not write with his own hand; he dictated; sometimes when the letter was finished he re-read it. His impetuous soul carried him away at such moments; he made marginal additions to it, at the risk of injuring the context, and of producing suspended and entangled sentences. He transmitted the letter thus effaced, regardless of the numberless repetitions of words and of ideas which it contained. With his marvellous fervour of soul, Paul has yet a singular poverty of expression. A phrase besets him, he recurs to it in a page at every turn. It was not sterility, it was contentiousness of mind and complete indifference to the requirements of a correct style. In order to avoid the numerous frauds to which the passions of the times gave rise, the authority of the Apostle and the material conditions of antique epistolography, Paul was in the habit of sending to the Churches a specimen of his writing, which was easily recognisable; this done, it was sufficient for him, according to a usage then general, to put at the end of his letters some words in his own hand as a guarantee of their authenticity.
There is no doubt that the correspondence of Paul was
considerable, and that what is remaining of if to us constitutes only a small
portion. The religion of the primitive Churches was so detached in every way, so
purely idealistic, that people did not realise
Two letters only of the second mission remain with us: they
are the two epistles to the Church at Thessalonica. Paul wrote them from
Corinth, and joined with his own name in the superscription those of Silas and
Timothy. They have the appearance of being composed at a short interval from one
another. They are two productions full of unction, tenderness, emotion, and
charm. In them the Apostle does not conceal his preference for the Churches of
Macedonia: He made use of the latter to give utterance to that love for glowing
expressions, for images the most endearing; he represents himself as the kind
nurse cherishing her children in her bosom, as a father charging his children.
This was indeed what Paul was for the Churches he had established. He was an
admirable missionary, and, what was more, an admirable director of consciences.
Never did he appear to better advantage than in having the charge of souls;
never did any one take up the problem of the education of
The kindness, the innocence, the fraternal spirit, the
unlimited charity of the primitive Churches, are a spectacle which will never
again be seen. It was wholly spontaneous, unconstrained, and yet these little
associations were as solid as iron. Not only could they resist the perpetual
bickerings of the Jews, but their interior organisation possessed surprising
force. In order to understand them, it is necessary to think, not of our grand
churches open to all, but of religious orders endowed with a most intense
individual life,—of confraternities firmly consolidated, in which the members
by turns embraced, animated, quarrelled with, loved, hated one another. These
Churches had a kind of hierarchy: the oldest members, the most active, those who
were en rapport with the Apostle, enjoyed a precedence! But the Apostle himself
was the first to repress everything
The “elders” were sometimes elected by the common voice,—that is to say, by a show of hands,—sometimes installed by the Apostle, but always considered as chosen by the Holy Spirit, that is to say, by that superior instinct which directed the Church in all its acts. People began already to call them “deacons” (episcopi, a word which in the language of politics had passed into the eranes), and to consider them as “pastors” charged with the conduct of the Church. Certain of them, moreover, were regarded as having a sort of speciality for teaching; these were catechists, going from house to house, and imparting the word of God in private admonitions. Paul made it a rule, at least in particular cases, that the catechumen, during his instruction, was to share all that he possessed in common with his catechist.
Full authority belonged to the Church assembled. This
authority was extended to the minutest details of private life. All the brethren
watched one another, corrected one another. The Church assembled, or at at least
those who were called “the devout,” reprimanded those who were in
fault, consoled the cast-down, and undertook the office of skilled directors,
versed in the knowledge of the heart. Public penitences had not yet been
instituted; but they no doubt already existed in embryo. As no exterior force
restrained the faithful, nor prevented them from splitting or abandoning the
Church, we should have thought that such an organisation, which appears to us
insupportable, in which is only to be seen a system of espionage and of
accusation, would speedily have come to an end. But nothing of the kind. We do
not find, at the period at which we have now arrived, a single example of apostacy. Every one submitted
People had a perfect horror of Paganism, but were very tolerant in their treatment of Pagans. Far from fleeing from them, people sought to attract them and to gain them over. Many of the faithful had been idolaters, or had parents who were; they knew with what good faith one might be in error. They recalled their honest ancestors, who had died without having known saving truth. A touching custom, baptism for the dead, was the consequence of that sentiment. People believed that in being baptised for those of their ancestors who had not received holy water, they conferred on them the merits of the sacrament; thus the hope of not being separated from those that they loved was not frustrated. A profound idea of solidarity dominated every one; the son was saved through his parents, the father through the son, the husband through the wife. People could not be brought to condemn a man of good intentions, or who through any side way whatever clung to the saints.
Manners were severe, though not sad. That virtuous gloom
which the rigorists of modern times (Janissaries, Methodists, etc.) preach as a
Christian virtue, had no existence then. The relations between
The position of catechist was often filled by women.
Virginity was regarded as a state of sanctity. This preference accorded to the
celibate was not a negation of love and of beauty, like that which found place
in the barren and unintelligible asceticism of later centuries. It was, in a
woman, that just and true sentiment which virtue and beauty prize so much the
more the more it is concealed; so that she who has not found that rare peril of
strong love, guards, by a sort of pride and of reserve, its beauty and moral
perfection for God alone, for God
Charity, brotherly love, was the supreme law, and common to
all the churches and all the schools. Charity and chastity were par excellence
Christian virtues,—virtues which made a success of the new gospel, and converted
the entire world. One was commanded to do good to all: nevertheless,
co-religionists were regarded as being worthy of preference. A taste for work
was held to be a virtue. Paul, a good workman, vigorously reproved indolence and
idleness, and repeated often that naïf proverb of a man of the people: “He
that would not work, neither should he eat.” The model that he conceived was a
punctual artisan, peaceable, applying himself to his work, eating tranquilly—his mind at ease—the bread
The supernatural gifts of the Holy Spirit, such as
prophecy, were not neglected. But we can well see that in the Churches of
Greece, composed of Jews, these fantastic exercises possessed no longer much
meaning, and we can believe that they soon fell into desuetude. Christian
discipline turned on a kind of deistic piety, which consisted in serving the
true God, in praying and in doing good. A powerful hope gave to these precepts
of pure religion the efficacy that they of themselves never could possess. The
dream that had been the soul of the movement inaugurated by Jesus, continued
still to be the fundamental dogma of Christianity; everybody believed
Objections were naturally raised against this strange doctrine. One of the principal of them arose from the difficulty of conceiving what should be the portion of the dead at the moment of the advent of Jesus. Since the visit of Paul, there had been several deaths in the Church at Thessalonica, and these first deaths had made, on all sides, a very deep impression. Was it necessary to compassionate, and to regard as excluded from the kingdom of God, those who had thus disappeared before the solemn hour? The ideas upon individual immortality and a special judgment were yet too little developed to enable people to sustain auy such objection. Paul responded with remarkable clearness:—
“That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and that ye may have lack of nothing. But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.”
People sought to discover the day of that grand appearance. St Paul condemned these inquisitive speculations, and made use of them in order to show the almost worthlessness of the words themselves which people had attributed to Jesus.
“But of the times and the season, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you. For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman child; and they shall not escape. But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that that day should overtake you as a thief. Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day; we are not of the night, nor of darkness. Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.”
The preoccupation of that near catastrophe was extreme. The enthusiasts believed that they had discovered the date by means of special revelations. There existed already several apocalypses; people went even the length of causing forged letters of the Apostle to be circulated, in which this end of things was announced,—
“Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord
Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto him, That ye be not soon shaken
in mind, or be troubled, neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter as from
us, as that the day of Christ is at hand. Let no man deceive you by any means;
for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man
of sin be revealed, the son of perdition. Who opposeth and exalteth himself
above all that is called God or that is worshipped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of
God, shewing himself that he is God. Remember ye not, that, when I was yet with you,
We see that in these texts, written twenty years after the death of Jesus, only a single essential element has been added to the description of the day of the Lord such as Jesus had conceived it, namely, the character of an Anti-Christ, or false Christ, which was to spring up before the grand appearance of Jesus himself—a sort of Satanic Messiah, who was to work miracles, and desire to be worshipped. Apropos of Simon the Magician, we have already met with the singular idea that the false prophets worked miracles exactly like the true prophets. The opinion that the judgment of God would be preceded by a terrible catastrophe, by the spread of impiety and abominations, by the passing triumph of idolatry, by the advent of a sacrilegious king, was, however, very ancient, going back as far as the first origins of the apocalyptic doctrines. Gradually that ephemeral reign of evil, the precursor of the final victory of the good, which would happen to the Christians, would be personified in a man who was conceived to be the exact converse of Jesus, a sort of Christ of the infernal regions.
The type of that future misleader was composed in part out
of recollections of Antiochus Epiphanes, such as he is presented in the book of
Daniel, combined with the reminiscences of Balaam, of Gog and Magog, of
Nebuchadnezzar, and partly from ideas borrowed from the circumstances of the
times. The ghastly tragedy that was being enacted at Rome at that
That which is clear; that which still is revealed for us
in these inestimable documents; that which explains the wonderful success of the
Christian propaganda, is the spirit of devotion, the high morality which
reigned in those little Churches. They might be compared to the reunions of the
Moravian brothers, or to pious Protestants addicted to the extremest devotion,
or, again, to a sort of third order of a Catholic congregation. Prayer and the
name of Jesus were constantly on the lips of the faithful. Before each act,
before partaking of food, for example, they pronounced a short benediction or
short act of grace. It was looked upon as an injury done to the Church, to bring
an action before the civil judges. The belief in the near destruction of the
world raised a revolutionary ferment which carried into every mind a great
portion of its sourness. The invariable rule of the Apostle was, that it was
necessary for one to abide in the state to which one had been called. “Is any
person called (being) circumcised, let him not dissimulate circumcision; is any
person called uncircumcised, let him not be circumcised; is any one a virgin,
let her remain a virgin; is any one married, let such remain married; is any
one a slave, seek not to be made free; and even if one can obtain one’s
freedom, let such a one remain in slavery. The slave who is called, is the free
servant of Christ; the free man who is called, is the slave of Christ.” A marvellous
The Church was a permanent source of edification and of consolation. It must not be imagined that the Christian gatherings of those times were modelled after the cold assemblies of our days, in which the unforeseen, the individual initiative, had no part. It is rather of the English Quakers, the American Shakers, and the French Spiritualists, that one must think. During the meeting all were seated, and each spoke when he felt inspired. The inspired one would then rise up, and deliver, through the impulse of the Spirit, discourses of various forms, which it is difficult for us to distinguish to-day—psalms, canticles of acts of grace, eulogies, prophecies, revelations, lessons, exhortations, consolations, and treatises on language. These improvisations, considered as divine oracles, were sometimes chanted, sometimes delivered in a speaking tone of voice. Each invited his neighbour to do this; each excited the enthusiasm of others: it was what was called singing to God. The women remained silent. As every one believed oneself to be constantly visited by the Spirit, every image, every throb which crossed the brain of the believers, seemed to contain a deep meaning, and, with the most perfect good faith in the world, they drew a real nourishment of soul from pure illusions. After each eulogy, each prayer thus improvised, the multitude had a collective inspiration through the word Amen. In order to mark the diverse acts of the mystic seance, the president interposed, either by the invitation Oremus; or by a sigh directed towards heaven—Sursum Corda! or in recalling that Jesus, according to his promise, was in the midst of the assembled—Dominus Vobiscum. The cry Kyrie Eleison was also repeated frequently in a suppliant and plaintive tone.
Prophecy was esteemed a high gift: some women were endowed with it. In many cases, especially when the matter in hand had reference to philology, people hesitated; people sometimes even believed themselves to be dupes of a cunning device of the evil spirits. A particular class of the inspired, or, as was said, of the “spiritual,” was charged with the interpretation of these fantastic outbursts,—to find sense in them, to discern the minds from which they proceeded. These phenomena had great efficacy in the conversion of Pagans, and were regarded as the most demonstrative miracles. The Pagans, in fact—at least those of them who were supposed benevolent—were drawn into the assemblies. Then there would often follow strange spectacles. One or several of the inspired would address the intruder, address him alternately with rudeness or with gentleness, reveal to him inner secrets which he believed he himself only knew, and unfold to him the sins of his past life. The wicked were astonished, confounded. The shame of that public manifestation, which in that assembly had been exposed in a state of spiritual nudity, created between him and the brethren a strong bond, which was not again to be broken. A sort of confession was sometimes the first act which was done in entering the sect. The intimacy, the affection which such exercises established between the brothers and the sisters, was without reserve: all became indeed as one person. It required nothing less than a perfect spirituality to hinder such relations from springing up, and to check abuse.
We can conceive the immense attraction that a soul-movement
so active would exercise amongst a society freed from moral bonds, especially
amongst the common classes, who were neglected equally by the state and by
religion. Hence the grand lesson which is to be derived from that history for our
The first monastic Church at Jerusalem broke bread every day. Twenty or thirty years after, people had come to celebrate the holy feast only once a week. This celebration took place in the evening, and, according to the Jewish usage, by the light of numerous lamps. The day chosen for this was the day following the Sabbath, the first day of the week. This day was called “the day of the Lord,” in rememberance of the “resurrection,” and also because it was believed that on the same day God had created the world. Alms were done, and collections made on this day. The Sabbath, which all Christians probably celebrate still in a manner not equally scrupulous, was distinct from the day of the Lord. But without doubt the day of rest tended more and more to be confounded with the day of the Lord, and it is permissible to suppose that in the Churches of the Gentiles, who had no reason to prefer the Saturday, that change was already made. The ébonim of the East, on the contrary, rested on Saturday.
Little by little the supper tended to become purely
symbolical in form. At the first it was a real supper, at which one ate as much
as one wanted, only with an elevated mystic intention. The supper was prefaced
by a prayer. As at the dinners of the Pagan fraternities, each brought his
basket and consumed what he brought: the Church, no doubt, furnishing the
accessories, such as hot water, pilchards, that which was called the ministerium. People loved to think of two invisible servants,
Irene (Peace) and Agapæ (Love), the one pouring out the wine, the other mixing it with hot water;
and, perhaps, at certain moments during the repast, one would be heard to say,
with a sweet smile, to the deaconesses (ministræ), that from which they derived
their names: Irene, da calda (hot water)—Agape, misce me (pour me
out). A spirit of delicate reserve and of discreet sobriety presided at the feast. The table
In time the supper came to be no more than a ceremony. People ate at home to appease hunger; at the assembly people eat only a few mouthfuls; drank only a few sups, in view of the symbol. People were led by a kind of logic to distinguish the common fraternal repast from the mystical act which consisted solely of a fraction of bread. The fraction of bread became each day more sacramental; the supper, on the contrary, in proportion as the Church increased, became more profane. Sometimes the supper was reduced almost to nothing, and in being thus reduced, lost all the importance of a sacramental act. Sometimes the two things subsisted, but separately; the supper was a prelude or a sequel to the Eucharist; people dined together before or after the communion. Then the two ceremonies were separated entirely; the pious repasts were acts of charity towards the poor, sometimes the remnants of Pagan usages, and had no longer any connection with the Eucharist. As such, they were in general suppressed in the fifth century. The “eulogia” or “consecrated bread” remained, then, the sole souvenir of a golden age in which the Eucharist was invested with the more complex and less purely analytic forms. For a long time, still, however, the custom was preserved of invoking the name of Jesus in drinking, and people continued to consider as a eulogy the act of breaking bread and of drinking together, which were the last traces, and the traces well-nigh effaced, of the admirable institutions of Jesus.
The name which, at the first, the eucharistic feast bore, expressed admirably all that there was in that excellent rite of divine efficacy and of salutary morality. They were called agapæ, that is to say, “loves” or “charities.” The Jews—the Essenians especially—had already attached a moral sense to the religious feasts; but in passing into the hands of another race, these Oriental usages took an almost mythological significance. The Mythriatic mysteries which began soon to be developed in the Roman world had as their principal rite the offering of bread and of the cup, over which were pronounced certain words. The resemblance was such, that the Christians explained it as a ruse of the devil, who wished by this means to have the infernal pleasure of counterfeiting their most holy ceremonies. The secret bonds between all these things are very obscure. It was easy to foresee that grave abuses would so quickly be mixed up with such practices, that one day the feast (the agapæ, properly speaking) would fall into desuetude, and that there would only remain the eucharistic wafer, the sign and memorial of the primitive institution. One could no longer be surprised to learn that strange mysteries should be made the pretext for calumnies, and that the sect which pretended to eat, under the form of bread and wine, the body and the blood of its founder, should be accused of renewing the feasts of Thyestes, of eating infants covered with pastry, and of anthropophagistic practices.
The annual feasts were always the Jewish feasts, especially
Easter and Pentecost. The Christian Easter was generally celebrated on the same
day as the Jewish Passover. Nevertheless, the cause which had transferred the
holy-day of each week from the Saturday to the Sunday regulated also Easter, not
from usage and Jewish souvenirs, but from the souvenirs of the passion and of the resurrection of Jesus.
Pentecost was also celebrated on the same day as with the Jews. Like Easter, that feast took a signification altogether new, which put into the shade the old Jewish idea. Right or wrong, people believed that the principal incident of the Holy Spirit upon the assembled Apostles had taken place on the day of Pentecost which followed the resurrection of Jesus; the ancient harvest festival of the Semites became thus in the new religion the feast of the Holy Ghost. About the same time that feast underwent an analogous transformation amongst the Jews; it became with them the anniversary of the promulgation of the law upon Mount Sinai.
No edifice had been built or any building rented expressly
for the meetings;—no art, consequently no images. The assemblies took place in
the houses of the brethren the best known, or who had a room well adapted for
the purpose. People preferred for this the apartments which, in Oriental houses,
formed the first floor, and corresponding to our
Up to this time Buddhism alone had elevated man to this
degree of heroism and of purity. The triumph of Christianity is inexplicable, if
it is studied only in the fourth century. It happened with Christianity as
happens almost always in human things: it succeeded when it began to decline
morally; it became official when it no longer had anything to rest upon except
itself; it came into vogue when its true period of originality and of youth had
passed away. But it did none the less merit its high recompense: it had merited
this by its three centuries of virtue, or by the incomparable predilection for
the good which it had inspired. When we think of that miracle, no hyperbole
about the excellence of Jesus appears illegitimate. It was he, always he, who
was the inspirer, the master, the principle of life in his Church. His divine
mission grew each year, and this was but just. He was no longer only a man of
God, a great prophet, a man approved and authorised of God, a man powerful in
works and in speech; these expressions which suffice, which were sufficient for
the faith and the love of the disciples of early times, passed now for silly
fables. Jesus is the Lord, the Christ, a personage entirely superhuman, not yet
God, but very near being it. One lives in him, one dies in him,
The idea of the Christian redemption in the Churches of
Paul underwent a similar transformation. People knew little of the parables or
the moral teachings of Jesus: the Gospels did not yet exist. Christ, having
lived, is not to the Churches something approaching a real personage: he is the
image of God, a heavenly minister, having taken upon himself the sins of the
world, charged with reconciling the world to God; he is a divine reformer,
creating all things new, and abolishing the past. It is death for all; all are
dead through him to the world, and ought no longer to live, except for him. He
was rich in all the richness of divinity, and he became poor for us. All
Christian life ought hence to be a contradiction of the human sense: weakness is
the true strength, death is the true life; cardinal wisdom is folly. Happy he
who carries in his body the dying of Jesus, he who is continually exposed to
death for Jesus’ sake. He shall live again with Jesus; he shall see his glory
face to face, and shall be transformed unto him, rising uninterruptedly from
glory to glory. The Christian thus lives in the hope of death, and in a state of perpetual groaning. In
Paul, however, felt the necessity of revisiting the
Churches of Syria. It was three years since he had left Antioch; notwithstanding
that his stay there had been shorter than formerly, this new mission had become
much more important. The new Churches, recruited from lively, energetic
populations, brought to the feet of Jesus homage of an infinite value. Paul had
just recounted all this to the Apostles, and bid them attach themselves to the
Mother Church, the model of all others. In spite of his taste for independence,
he felt sure that, outside of the communion of Jerusalem, there was only schism
and dissension. The admirable mixture of opposite qualities which
The ship stayed for some days at Ephesus. Paul had time to go to the synagogue and to dispute with the Jews. They begged him to stay; but he put forward his vow, and declared that at any cost he would celebrate the festival in Jerusalem; all they could get from him was a promise to return. He took leave then of Aquila and Priscilla, and of those with whom he had already entered into relationships, and took ship again for Cæsarea of Palestine, whence he speedily made his way to Jerusalem.
There he celebrated the festival in the way in which he had
vowed to do. Perhaps this Hebrew scruple was a concession, like so many others,
that he made to the spirit of the Church at Jerusalem. He hoped by an act of
great devotion to obtain pardon for his daring, and to conciliate the Judaisers.
The discussions were scarcely pacified, and peace was only kept for the sake of
business. It is probable that he profited by the opportunity to remit to the
poor people in Jerusalem a considerable
The head of the Church of Jerusalem was now James, the brother of the Lord. It was not that the authority of Peter had diminished, but he was no longer resident in the city. Partly in imitation of Paul, he had embraced the active apostolic life. The idea that Paul was the Apostle of the Gentiles, and Peter the Apostle of the Circumcision, had more and more gained ground. In accordance with this idea, Peter went about preaching the Gospel to the Jews all over Syria. He carried about with him a sister, as spouse and deaconess, thus giving the first example of a married Apostle—an example which the Protestant missionaries more lately followed. John, surnamed Mark, appeared always also as his disciple, his companion, and his interpreter, a circumstance which causes it to be generally believed that the Prince of the Apostles knew no Greek. Peter had in some sort adopted John-Mark, and treated him as a son.
The details of the pilgrimage of Peter are unknown to us.
What was told about him in later days is mainly fabulous. We only know that the
life of the Apostle of the Circumcision was, like that of the Apostle of the
Gentiles, a series of trials. It may be believed also that the itinerary which
serves as foundation for the fabulous acts of Peter—a journey which conducts the
Apostle from Jerusalem to Cæsarea, from Cæsarea
Many of the brothers of the Lord, and some members of the Apostolic College, travelled even from the bordering parts of Judæa. As Peter, and in a different manner to that of the missionaries of the school of Paul, they travelled with their wives, and lived at the cost of the Churches. The trade which they had exercised in Galilee was not, like that of Paul, of a nature to enable them to subsist upon it, and they had abandoned it a long time ago. The wives who accompanied them, who were called “sisters,” were the origin of those novices, a kind of deaconesses and of nuns, living under the direction of a clergyman, who played an important part in the history of ecclesiastical celibacy.
Peter having thus ceased to be the resident chief of the
Church of Jerusalem, several members of the Apostolic Council having in the same
way taken up with an itinerant life, the first place in the Mother Church was
given up to James. He was thus “the bishop of the Hebrews,” that is to say, of
that part of the disciples who spoke the Semitic languages. That did not
compromise the chief part of the universal Church: no one had been exigent
enough to claim the right to such a title, people being divided between Peter
and Paul; but his presidency of the Church at Jerusalem, joined to his quality
of brother of the Lord, gave James an immense power, since the Church at
Jerusalem always remained the centre of concord. James was, moreover, very old;
some ambitious movements,
James was a worthy man in many respects, but with a narrow mind, that Jesus would have assuredly pierced with his keenest railleries, if he knew him, or even if be knew him as he has been represented to us. Was he really the brother, or only a cousin-german, of Jesus? All the witnesses in this respect agree so well together, that one is forced to believe the latter hypothesis. But, in that case, Nature must have played one of her most fantastic tricks. Perhaps this brother, being converted only after the death of Jesus, possessed less of the true tradition of the Master than those who, without being his relations, had accompanied him in his lifetime. It is less surprising that two children born of the same mother, or of the same family, should have been at first enemies, then reconciled; should remain so profoundly diverse, that the only known brother of Jesus would have been a kind of Pharisee, an ascetic exterior, a devotee tainted with all the absurdities that Jesus attacked without mercy. One thing is certain, namely, that the person who has been called up to this time “James, brother of the Lord,” or “James the Just,” or the “Rampart of the People,” was in the Church of Jerusalem the representative of the most intolerant Jewish party. Whilst the active Apostles travelled all over the world, in order to conquer it for Jesus, the brother of Jesus at Jerusalem did all that was possible to destroy their work, and to contradict Jesus after his death, in a more profound fashion perhaps than he had done in his life-time.
This society of half-converted Pharisees, this world
Paul avoided these scandals by setting out as soon as possible for Antioch. It was probably then that Silas left him. The latter was the founder of the Church at Jerusalem. He remained there, and henceforth attached himself to Peter. Silas, as the compiler of the “Acts,” appears to have been a conciliatory man, oscillating between the two parties, and in turn attached to each of the two chiefs; a thoroughly good Christian, and of the opinion which in triumphing saved the Church. Never, in fact, did the Christian Church bear in its bosom a cause of schism so deep as that which agitated it at this moment. Luther and the most fossilised scholar differed less than Paul and James. Thanks to some gentle and generous spirits—Silas, Luke, Timothy—all the attacks were softened, all the heartburnings concealed. A beautiful tale, calm and dignified, has not allowed it to be seen that the fraternal understanding in these years was traversed by such terrible rents.
At Antioch Paul breathed freely. He there met with his old
companion Barnabas, and without doubt they felt great joy at seeing each other;
for the motive which had separated them for a short time was not a question of
principle. Perhaps Paul also found at Antioch his disciple Titus, who had not
shared the second journey, but who henceforth attached himself to him. The
recital of miraculous conversions wrought by Paul astonished the young and
active Church. Paul, for his part, felt a lively
Whilst Paul was at Antioch, Peter arrived there. This at
first only redoubled the joy and cordiality. The Apostle of the Jews and the
Apostle of the Gentiles loved each other as very good and very ardent natures
always love each other, when they found themselves in relation to each other.
Peter communicated without reserve with the converted Pagans, and even, in open
violation of the Jewish Law, he did not object to eating with them; but soon
this good understanding was disturbed. James had executed his fatal project.
Some brethren, provided with letters of recommendation signed by him as the
chief of the Twelve, and as the only one who had the right to authorise a
mission, set out from Jerusalem. Their pretext was that one could not preach the
doctrine of Christ if he had not been to Jerusalem to compare his doctrine
with that of James, the brother of the Lord, and if he did not carry an
attestation from the latter. Jerusalem was, according to them, the source of all
faith,—of every apostolic commission: the true Apostles lived there. Whoever
preached without a letter of authority from the chief of the Mother Church, and
without having sworn obedience to him, ought to be repelled as a false prophet
and a false apostle, as an emissary of the devil. Paul, who had no such letters,
was an intruder, boasting of personal relations with them without reality, and
of a mission the title to which he could not produce. He alleged his visions,
contending even that the fact of having seen Jesus in a supernatural fashion was worth much
The emissaries cited on this head a number of visions which had been seen by infidels and heretics, and concluded from them that the chief Apostles, those who had seen Jesus, had an immense superiority. They even declared that they could show texts of Scripture proving that visions came from an offended God, whilst to converse face to face was the privilege of his friends. “How can Paul assert that by an interview of an hour Jesus had rendered him capable of teaching? It needed a whole year of lessons for Jesus to form his Apostles. And if Jesus really appeared to him, how did he know that he did not teach the reverse of the doctrine of Jesus? Let him prove the reality of the interview which he had had with Jesus, by conforming himself to His precepts, by loving His Apostles, by not declaring war with those whom Jesus had chosen. If he wished to serve the truth, let him make himself the disciple of Jesus’ disciples, and then he could be a useful auxiliary.”
The question of ecclesiastical authority and of individual
revelation, of Catholicism and of Protestantism, showed itself with a real
grandeur. Jesus had settled nothing clearly in this matter. So long
The emissaries of James arrived at Antioch. James, while
admitting that converted Gentiles could be saved without observing the Law of
Moses, in no way admitted that a true Jew, a circumcised Jew, could, without
sin, violate the law. The scandal of the disciples of James was at its height
when they saw the chief of the Churches of the circumcision act like a true
Pagan, and destroy those exterior compacts that a respectable Jew looked upon as
titles of nobility and marks of his superiority. They spoke keenly to Peter, who
was much frightened. This man, profoundly good and just, wanted peace above
everything: he scarcely knew how to contradict anybody. This made him
changeable: at least he was so to all appearance; he was easily disconcerted,
Paul’s anger was extreme. When we recall the ritual meaning of the meal in common, refusing to eat with a part of the community meant excommunication. Paul broke out into reproaches, treated this kind of thing as hypocrisy, accused Peter and his imitators of falsifying the meaning of the gospel. The Church must soon assemble: the two Apostles would meet there. To his face, and before all the assembly, Paul violently apostrophised Peter, and reproached him for his inconsequence. “If thou,” said he to him, “being a Jew, livest after the manner of Gentiles, and not as do the Jews, why compellest thou the Gentiles to live as do the Jews?”
Then he developed his favourite theory of the salvation coming by Jesus, and not by the Law,—of the abrogation of the Law by Jesus. It is probable that Peter did not answer him. Exactly, it was Paul’s advice; as all men who seek by innocent artifices to get out of a difficulty, he did not pretend to be right; he only wanted to satisfy one side, and not to alienate others. In this manner one only succeeds, as a general rule, in being in opposition to everybody.
Only the removal of the envoys of James made an end to the disagreement. After their departure, good Peter began again without doubt to eat with the Gentiles as before. These singular alternatives of violence and of fraternity are one of the features of a Jewish character. Modern critics conclude from certain passages in the Epistle to the Galatians that the quarrel between Peter and Paul absolutely made them contradict each other, not only in the “Acts” but in other passages from the Epistle to the Galatians. Ardent men pass their life in disputing with each other, without ever actually quarrelling. It is not necessary to judge these tempers after the manner of things whose actions happen in our time between men well educated and susceptible upon the point of honour. This last word, in particular, has scarcely ever had any meaning to the Jews.
It seems certain, nevertheless, the quarrel of Antioch left deep traces. The great Church on the borders of the Orontes was split in two, if we are permitted to explain thus, that in two parishes there was on the one hand the parish of the circumcised, on the other, that of the uncircumcised. The separation of these two portions of the Church continued for a long time. Antioch, as they tell us later, had two bishops, one appointed by Peter and the other by Paul. Evhode and Ignatius are named as having filled up after the Apostles that office.
As for the animosity of the emissaries of James, it only
increased. The quarrel of Antioch left them a feeling, the indignant expression
of which, a century after, one still finds in the writings of the
Judæo-Christian section. The eloquent adversary who had almost destroyed the
Church of Antioch, without any real reason became their enemy. They vowed
vengeance, which even in his lifetime raised up for him troubles without number,
and after his death bloody anathemas and atrocious calumnies.
Paul from this moment was for a section of the Church one
of the most dangerous of heretics, a false Jew, a false Apostle, a false
prophet, a new Balaam, a Jezebel, a villain who prophesied (lit.
James, on the contrary, became for the Judæo-Christian
party the head of all Christianity, the bishop of bishops, the president of all
the good Churches, of those that God had truly founded. It was probably after
his death that they created for him this apocryphal character; but there is no
doubt that legend in this case may be based in several respects upon the real
character of the hero. The grave and rather emphatic delivery of James; his
manners, which recalled a sage of the old world, a solemn Brahmin or an antique
mobed; his pompous and ostentatious sanctity made him conspicuous in the
popular eye, an official, holy man, even already a species of Pope. The
Judæo-Christians accustomed themselves to believe that he had been clothed with
the Jewish priesthood; and as a sign of the High Priest was the pétalon or
breastplate of gold, they decorated him with it. “The Rampart of the people,”
with his golden breastplate, thus became a sort of Jewish bonze, an imitation
High Priest, for the use of the Judæo-Christians. They supposed that, as the High
Priest, he entered, by virtue of a special permission, once a year into the
sanctuary; they even pretended that he belonged to the sacerdotal race. They
asserted that he had been ordained by Jesus the bishop of the Holy City; that
Jesus had entrusted him with his own episcopal throne. The Judæo-Christians
made a good many of the people of Jerusalem believe that it was the merits of
this servant of God which held off the thunderbolt which was ready to burst on
the people. They nearly went as far as creating for him as for
The image of Jesus in this Christian family became smaller year by year, whilst in the Churches of Paul it took more and more colossal proportions. The Christians of James were simple, pious Jews—hasidim—believing in a Jewish mission of Jesus; the Christians of Paul were good Christians in the sense which has prevailed ever since. The Law, the temple, sacrifices, high priests, all became indifferent to them. Jesus has replaced everything else, abolished everything else; to attach a meaning of sanctity to what has been before, is to do injury to the merits of Jesus. It was natural that to Paul, who had not seen Jesus, the wholly human figure of the Galilæan Master should transform itself into a metaphysical type much more easily than for Peter and the others who had talked with Jesus. To Paul, Jesus is not a man who has lived and taught; he is Christ who has died for our sins, who saves us, who justifies us; He is an altogether Divine being: we partake of him; we communicate with Him in a wonderful manner; He is for man Wisdom and Righteousness, Santification and Redemption; He is the King of Glory, All Powerful in Heaven and Earth, which is soon to be delivered to Him; He is only inferior to God the Father. If this school only had written the Scriptures, we should not touch upon the person of Jesus, and we might doubt its existence. But those who know Him, and who guarded His memory, possibly wrote about this time the first notes upon which these Divine writings (I speak of the Gospels) which have made the fortune of Christianity, and which have transmitted to us the essential features of the most important character which has ever been known.
The emissaries of James, having left Antioch, bent their steps towards the Churches of Galatia. The Jerusalemites had for a long time known of the existence of these Churches; it was even with regard to them that the question of the circumcision was first raised, and that what was called the Council of Jerusalem was held. James had probably recommended his confidential agents to attack this important point, it being one of the centres of Paul’s power.
Success was easy for them. These Galatians were men readily
seduced; the last one who had come to speak to them in the name of Jesus was
almost certain to be right. The Jerusalemites had soon persuaded a great number
of them that they were not good Christians. They incessantly repeated to them
that they ought to be circumcised, and to observe all the Law. With the puerile
vanity of fanatical Jews, the deputies represented circumcision as a corporal
advantage; they were proud of it, and did not admit that one could be as much a
man without this privilege as he ought to be. The habit of ridiculing the
Pagans, representing them as inferior beings and badly brought up, introduced
these grotesque ideas. The Jerusalemites poured out at the same time against
Paul a flood of invective and disparagement. They accused him of posing as an
independent Apostle, although he had received his mission from Jerusalem, or
else they had seen him at different times betake himself to the school of the
Twelve, as a disciple. Was not his coming to Jerusalem a recognition of the
superiority of the Apostolic College? What he
The consciences of these good Galatians were troubled. One party abandoned the doctrine of Paul, yielded to the new doctors, and were circumcised; the other party remained faithful to their first master. The trouble, in all these cases, was profound: they said the harshest things to each other.
This news on reaching Paul filled him with anger. Jealousy, which formed the basis of his character, and susceptibility, often already put to the test, were excited in the highest degree. It was the third time that the Pharisaical party of Jerusalem attempted to demolish his work as he accomplished it. The kind of cowardice which there is in attacking weak, docile men without defence, and who only lived in confidence on their master, revolted him. He could restrain himself no longer. At the same time, the daring and vehement Apostle dictated that admirable epistle, that may well be compared, except for the art of writing, with the most beautiful classical works, and in which his impetuous nature is painted in letters of fire. The title of “Apostle” that he had at first taken timidly, he now took as assumed in defiance, to reply to his adversaries, and in the maintenance of what he believed to be the truth.
“Paul an Apostle (not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father, who raised him from the Dead); and all the brethren which are with me, unto the Churches of Galatia:
“Grace be to you and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the will of God and our Father: to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
“I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel: which is not another; but there be some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ. But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed. For do I now persuade men, or God? or do I seek to please men? for if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ.
“But I certify you, brethren, that the gospel which was
preached of me is not after man. For I neither received it of man, neither was I
taught it, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ. For ye have heard of my
conversation in time past in the Jews’ religion, how that beyond measure I
persecuted the Church of God, and wasted it: and profited in the Jews’
religion above many my equals in mine own nation, being more exceedingly
zealous of the traditions of my fathers. But when it pleased God, who separated
me from my mother’s womb, and called me by his grace, to reveal his
Son in me, that I might preach him among the heathen; immediately I conferred
not with flesh and blood: neither went I up to
“Afterwards I came into the regions of Syria and Cilicia; and was unknown by face unto the Churches of Judæa which were in Christ; but they had heard only, that he which persecuted us in times past, now preacheth the faith which once he destroyed And they glorified God in me.
“Then, fourteen years after, I went up again to Jerusalem
with Barnabas, and took Titus with me also. And I went up by revelation, and
communicated unto them that gospel which I preach among the Gentiles, but
privately to them which were of reputation, lest by any means I should run, or
had run in vain. But neither Titus, who was with me, being a Greek, was
compelled to be circumcised: and that because of false brethren unawares brought
in, who came in privily to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus,
that they might bring us into bondage, to whom we gave place by subjection, no,
not for an hour: that the truth of the gospel might continue with you. But of
these who seemed to be somewhat (whatsoever they were, it maketh no matter to
me. God accepteth no man’s person), for they who seemed to be
somewhat in conference added nothing to me; but contrariwise, when they saw that
the gospel of the uncircumcision was committed onto me, as the gospel of the
circumcision was unto Peter (for he that wrought effectually in Peter to the
apostleship of the circumcision, the same was mighty in me toward the
Gentiles), and when James, Cephas and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace
“But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed. For before that certain came from James, he did eat with the Gentiles; but when they were come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them which were of the circumcision. And the other Jews dissembled likewise with him; insomuch that Barnabas also was carried away with their dissimulation. But when I saw that they walked not uprightly according to the truth of the gospel, I said unto Peter, before them all, If thou, being a Jew, livest after the manner of the Gentiles, and not as do the Jews, why compellest thou the Gentiles to live as do the Jews? We, who are Jews by nature, and not sinners of the Gentiles, knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law; for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified. But if, while we seek to be justified by Christ, we ourselves also are found sinners, is therefore Christ the minister of sin? God forbid. For, if I build again the things which I destroy, I make myself a transgressor. For I through the law am dead to the law, that I might live unto God. I am crucified with Christ; nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ Liveth in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not frustrate the grace of God, for if righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.
“O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you,
“Howbeit then when ye knew not God, ye did service unto them which by nature are no gods. But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements, whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage? Ye observe days, and months, and times, and years. I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labour in vain.
“Brethren, I beseech you, be as I am; for I am as ye are; ye have not injured me at all. Ye know how through infirmity of the flesh I preached the gospel unto you at the first. And my temptation, which was in my flesh ye despised not, nor rejected; but received me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus. Where is then the blessedness ye spake of? for I bear you record, that, if it had been possible, ye would have plucked out your own eyes, and have given them to me. Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth? They zealously affect you, but not well; yea, they would exclude you, that ye might affect them. But it is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing, and not only when I am present with you. My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you, I desire to be, present with you now, and to change my voice; for I stand in doubt of you. . . . . .
“Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath
made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage. Behold, I,
Paul, say unto you that, if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit
“Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth? This persuasion cometh not of him that calleth you. A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump. I have confidence in you through the Lord, that ye will be none otherwise minded; but he that troubleth you shall bear his judgment, whosoever he be. And I, brethren, if I yet preach circumcision, why do I yet suffer persecution? Then is the offence of the cross ceased? I would they were even cut off which trouble you.
“For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty: only use
not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another. For all
the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this: Thou shalt love thy neighbour
as thyself. But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not
consumed one of another. This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not
fulfil the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the
Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other, so that
ye cannot do the things that ye would. But if ye be led of the Spirit, ye are
not under the law. Now, the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these:
Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft,
hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings,
murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of the which I tell you
before, as I have also told you in times past, that they which do such things
shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But
Paul wrote this epistle at a single sitting, as if filled with an interior fire. According to his habit, he wrote with his own hand, in postscript, “Ye see how large a letter I have written unto you with mine own hand.”
It seems natural that he should finish with the usual salutation; but he was too much animated: his fixed idea possessed him. The subject being exhausted, he again returns to it with some keen remarks:—
“As many as desire to make a fair shew in the flesh, they constrain you to be circumcised; only lest they should suffer persecution for the cross of Christ. For neither they themselves who are circumcised keep the law, but desire to have you circumcised that they may glory in your flesh. But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature. And as many as walk according to this rule, peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God. From henceforth let no man trouble me, for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus. Brethren, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen.”
Paul despatched this letter at once. If he had taken an
hour’s reflection, it is doubtful whether he would have let it be sent. We do
not know to whom it was entrusted; Paul doubtless had it carried by one of his
disciples, whom he charged with a journey into Galatia. The epistle, in fact, is
not addressed to a particular community; each of those little Churches of Derbe, of Lystra, of Iconium,
At the distance at which we now stand, the victory
Less great, less possessed by the sacred genius whicn had
seized upon him, Paul was made use of in these barren disputes. To reply to
little minds, he was obliged to make himself as mean as they were: these
miserable quarrels had absorbed him. Paul scorned them as a man of superior
genius should. He went straight forward, and left time to decide between him
and his enemies. The first rule for a man devoted to great things, is to refuse
mediocre men the power of turning him aside from his way. Without discussing
with the delegates of James as
He set out from Antioch, accompanied probably by Titus. He followed the same track as on his second journey, and visited for the third time the Churches of the centre of Asia Minor—Derbe, Lystra, Iconium, Antioch in Pisidia. He speedily regained his authority, and soon effaced such false impressions as still remained, and which his enemies had sought to raise against him. At Derbe he took as assistant a new disciple, named Gaius, who followed him. These good Galatians were full of docility, but weak in the faith. Paul, accustomed to express himself with firmness, treated them with a severity that sometimes even he himself was afraid they would take for harshness. He had scruples; he was afraid that he had spoken to his children in a manner that perhaps did not express clearly enough the affection there was for them in his heart.
The motives that had made him in his second journey abstain
from preaching the gospel to pro-consular Asia existing no longer, Paul, after having
We have already had occasion several times to remark that
Christianity was most readily accepted in the smaller towns of the Roman Empire.
The policy of that Empire had been to multiply isolated municipalities; isolated
as regards race, religion, and patriotism. Ephesus was like Alexandria, Antioch,
and Corinth, a typical town of this kind. It is easy
Formerly, as now, the Jews in such mixed towns held a very
conspicuous position. That place was, to a small extent, what Smyrna and
Salonica are at the present day. Ephesus especially possessed a very populous
Jews’ quarter. The Pagan inhabitants were fanatical enough, as
happens in all towns which are centres of pilgrimages and famous rites. The
devotion to Artemis of Ephesus, spreading over
For centuries Ephesus had been nothing more than a purely Hellenic town. Formerly Ephesus had shone in the first rank, the least artistic among the Greek cities; but now and then she had allowed herself to be seduced by the manners of Asia. The town always had a bad reputation among the Greeks. Corruption, the introduction of luxury, was, according to the Greeks, a result of the effeminate manners of Ionia; at this time, and in this way, Ephesus was the centre and the abridgment of Ionia. The domination of the Lydians and of the Persians had destroyed energy and patriotism alike. Ephesus, like Sardis, was the most advanced point of Asiatic influence upon Europe. The excessive importance which the worship of Artemis took there, extinguished the scientific spirit, and favoured the over-flowing of all superstitions. It was an almost theocratic town; the fêtes there were numerous and splendid; the right wing of the temple peopled the town with courtesans. The scandalous sacerdotal institutions maintained there appeared each day more devoid of all sense of shame. That brilliant country of Heraclites, of Parhasius, perhaps of Apella, was only a town of porticoes, of stadia, of gymnasia, of theatres, a town of common-place sumptuosity, in spite of the masterpieces of painting and of sculpture that she still guards.
Although the gate had been spoilt by the engineers
It has been called the meeting-place of harlots and their prey. The town swarmed with magicians, diviners, mummers, and flute players; eunuchs, jewellers, sellers of amulets and medals, and romancers. The title of “Ephesian novels” designated, like that of “Milesian fables,” a species of literature, Ephesus being one of the towns which was especially chosen as the scene of love romances. The softness of the climate, in fact, put aside serious things: dancing and music remained the sole occupation. Public life degenerated into bacchanalian festivities: there was no such thing as study. The most extravagant miracles of Apollonius are reputed to have happened at Ephesus. The most celebrated Ephesian of the time at which we have now arrived was an astrologer named Balbilas, who possessed the confidence of Nero and Vespasian, and who appears to have been a scoundrel. A beautiful Corinthian temple, whose ruins can be seen at the present day, was raised about the same period. It was perhaps a temple dedicated to poor Claudius, whom Nero and Agrippa had just “drawn to heaven with a hook,” according to the happy word of Gallio.
Ephesus had already been reached by Christianity when Paul
went to sojourn there. We have seen
It is under these circumstances that Paul arrived at Ephesus. He lodged with Aquila and Priscilla, as he had already done at Corinth; associated himself anew with them, and worked in their shop. Ephesus was justly celebrated for its tents. The artisans of this trade probably inhabited the poor suburbs which extended from Mount Prion to the steep hill of Aiā-Solouk. There doubtless was the first Christian household; the apostolic basilicas were there, the venerated graves of all Christianity. After the destruction of the temple of Artemis, Ephesus having exchanged its Pagan celebrity for an equally celebrated Christianity, and having become a town of the first order in the memories and legends of the new worship. Byzantine Ephesus was wholly grouped round a hill which had the advantage of possessing the most precious monuments of Christianity. The old site being exchanged from an infectious marsh, where an active civilisation had ceased to regulate the course of the waters, the old town had been abandoned little by little; its gigantic monuments, in consequence of their nearness to navigable canals and the sea, had been made use of as quarries, and thus the town had been displaced for nearly a league. Perhaps the choice of a domicile which some poor Jews in the reign of Claudius or Nero had made was the first cause of this removal. The most ancient Turkish conquest continued the Byzantine tradition; a great Mussulman town succeeded to the Christian town, which still exists in the midst of so many memories of ruin, fever, and oblivion.
Paul was not here, as he was in his first missions, in the
midst of a synagogue, ignorant of the new mystery, which he must endeavour to
gain over. He had before him a Church which had been formed in the most original
and spontaneous fashion, with the aid of two good Jewish merchants, and of a
strange doctor, who was still only half a Christian. The company
The Apostle sought to enlarge this little circle of believers. He was not afraid of finding himself here in the presence of the intellectual and scientific spirit which had stopped him short at Athens. Ephesus was not a great intellectual centre. Superstition reigned there without any control; everybody lived in foolish preoccupations of demonology and theology. The magic formulas of Ephesus (Ephesia Grammata) were celebrated, books of sorcery abounded, and a number of men employed their time in these foolish puerilities. Apollonius of Tyana was at Ephesus about this time.
Paul, according to his habit, preached in the synagogue.
During the space of three months, he did not cease each Sabbath to teach the
Kingdom of God. He had little success. They did not come against him with
riotings or severities, but they received his doctrine with insulting and
scornful words. He then resolved to renounce the synagogue, and re-united
himself to part of his disciples in a place which they called Σχολὴ Τυράννου,
“The school of one Tyrannus.” Perhaps it was a public spot there,
one of those scholæ or semicircular vaults (or apses) which were so numerous in
ancient towns, and which served as xystes for conversation and free instruction.
Perhaps, on the other hand, it served as a private hall of a personage—of a
grammarian, for example—named Tyrannus. In general, Christianity
profited very little by these scholæ, which nearly always formed parts of the
hot baths and gymnasia. The favourite
The taste of the Ephesians for magic introduced episodes
still more shocking. Paul was believed to have a great power over devils. It
appears that the Jewish exorcists sought to steal his charms and to exorcise “in
the name of Jesus whom Paul preacheth.” There is a legend of the
misadventure of these quacks, who pretended to be sons or disciples of a certain
High Priest named Scæva. Having wished to drive out an evil spirit by means of
the aforesaid formula, they were grossly insulted by the possessed man, who not
content with that, threw himself upon them, tore their clothes in pieces, and
beat them soundly. The degradation of the popular mind was such, that many Jews
and many Pagans believed in Jesus for such a poor motive. These conversions took
place above all among the men who occupied themselves with magic. Struck by the
superiority of Paul’s formula, the lovers of occult sciences came to him to
exchange confidences concerning their practices. Many even brought their
Let us turn our eyes away from these sad shadows. All that is done by the popular ignorant masses is spotted with unpleasantness. Illusion, chimera, are the conditions of the great things created by the people. It is only the work of wise men which can be pure; but wise men are usually powerless. We have a physiology and a medicine very superior to that of Paul; we are disengaged from a crowd of errors of which he partook, alas! and it is to be feared that we may never do a thousandth part of what he did. It is only when humanity as a whole shall be instructed, and reach a certain point of positive philosophy, that human affairs will be led by reason. One would never understand the history of the past if one did not refuse to treat as good and great movements in which many mean and equivocal features are mixed up.
The ardour of Paul during his stay at Ephesus was extreme.
There were difficulties every day, numerous and animated adversaries. As the
Church of Ephesus was not purely a foundation of Paul, it counted in its bosom
the Judæo-Christians, who, upon important points, resisted energetically the
Apostle of the Gentiles. They were like two flocks accusing each other, and
denying to each other the right of speaking in the name of Jesus. The Pagans,
for their part, were discontented with the progress
The Apostle forgot all, however, for the word of God had become fruitful. All the western part of Asia Minor, especially the basins of the Meander and the Hermus, was covered with Churches at this time, of which, without doubt, Paul was in a manner more or less directly the founder. Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, probably Tralles, thus received the germs of the faith. These towns had already important Jewish colonies. The gentleness of manners, and the great tediousness of provincial life, in the heart of a rich and beautiful country, dead for centuries to all political life, and pacified nearly to a level, had prepared many souls for the joys of a pure life. The softness of the Ionian manners, so inimical to national independence, was favourable to the development of moral and social questions. These good populations, without military spirit, effeminate, if I dare say it, were naturally Christian. The family life appears to have been very strong among them; the habit of living in the open air, and, for the women, upon the threshold of their doors, in a delicious climate, had developed great sociability. Asia, with its Asiarchs, presidents of the games and spectacles, seemed a pleasure company, an association of diversions and fêtes. The Christian population even to-day has the charm of gaiety; the women have the clear complexion, the vague and sweet eyes, beautiful blonde hair, a retiring and modest disposition, involving the sentient life of their beauty.
Asia became thus, in some sort, the second province
A rich province of Southern Phrygia, in particular the
little basin of the Lycus, a tributary of the Meander, was soon formed into
active Christian centres. Three towns close to each other—Colossus or Colosse,
Laodicæa upon the Lycus, and Hieropolis—there diffused the Word of Life. Colosse, which had formerly been of most importance, seemed to decline; it was
an old city which remained faithful to the ancient manners, and which would not
change them. Laodicæa and Hieropolis, on the contrary, became, under the Roman
rule, very considerable towns. The summit of this beautiful country is Mount
Cadmas, the father of all the mountains of Eastern Asia, massive and gigantic,
full of dark precipices, and crowned with snow throughout the year. The waters
which flow from it nourish upon the slopes of the valleys orchards full of fruit
trees, which are traversed by rivers abounding in fish, and brightened by tame
storks. The other side exhibits the
The evangelist of these regions was Epaphroditus or
Epaphras of Colosse, a very zealous man, a friend and fellow-worker with Paul.
The Apostle had only passed through the valley of the Lycus; he had never
remained there; but these Churches, composed chiefly of converted Pagans, were
not less completely dependent on him. Epaphras exercised upon the three
villages a sort of episcopacy. Nymphadore, or Nymphas, who gathered a Church in
his house at Laodicæa; the rich and benevolent
Paul’s disciples travelled constantly, and reported to their master. Each one, though hardly converted, was a zealous catechist, spreading around him the faith with which he was filled. The delicate moral aspirations which prevailed in the country propapagated the movement like a train of gunpowder. The catechists went everywhere; as soon as they were received, they were jealously guarded; all and each tried to supply their wants. A cordiality, a joy, an infinite benevolence, prevailed by degrees, and touched the hearts of all. Judaism, besides, had preceded Christianity in these regions. Jewish colonies had been founded there by exiles from Babylon two centuries and a half before, and had perhaps carried there some of those industries (carpet-making, for example) which under the Roman emperors produced in the country so much wealth and so many strong associations.
Did the preaching of Paul and his disciples reach Great
Phrygia, the region of Azanes, of Synnades, of Colia, of Docimius? We have seen
that in his two first journeys, Paul preached in Phrygia Parorea; that in his
second journey he traversed Phrygia, Epicteta, without preaching; that in his
third journey he traversed Apamea, Cibotos, and Phrygia, called at a later date
Pacatiana. It is extremely probable that the remainder of Phrygia, as well as
Bithynia, owed to Paul’s disciples the seeds of Christianity. About the year 112, Christianity appears
Phrygia was thenceforward, and remained for three hundred
years, an essentially Christian country. There first begins the public
profession of Christianity; there, from the third century, are to be found upon
monuments exposed to every one’s eyes, the word ΧΡΗΣΤΙΑΝΟΣ or
ΧΡΙΣΤΙΑΝΟΣ: these epitaphs, without openly avowing Christianity, exhibit
Christian dogmas in a veiled form; there, from the time of Severus the Second,
great towns adopted upon their coins biblical symbols, or, rather, assimilated
their old traditions to biblical story. A large number of the Ephesian and Roman
Christians came from Phrygia. The names which are shown oftenest upon the
Phrygian monuments are old Christian names—names belonging specially to the
Apostolic age, those which fill the martyrology. It is very probable that this
prompt adoption of the doctrine of Jesus was natural to the race and to the
former religious institutions derived from the Phrygian people. Apollonius of
Tyana had, it is said, temples among these simple populations: the idea of gods
clothed in human form appeared very natural to them. What remains of ancient Phrygia often
Pontus and Cappadocia heard the name of Jesus at about the
same time. Christianity illuminated all Asia Minor like a sudden fire. It is
probable that the Judæo-Christians laboured on their part to spread the Gospel
there. John, who belonged to this party, was received in Asia as an Apostle with
authority superior to that of Paul. The Apocalypse, addressed in the year 68 to
the Churches of Ephesus, of Smyrna, of Pergamos, of Thyatira, of Sardis, of
Philadelphia, and of Laodicæa-upon-the-Lycus, is obviously written for
Judæo-Christians. Without doubt, between the death of Paul and the composition
of the Apocalypse, there was in Ephesus and in Asia a second Judæo-Christian
mission. Otherwise, if Paul had been during ten years the sole chief of the
Churches of Asia, we should find it difficult to understand why he had been so
quickly forgotten there. St Philip and Paphias, the glories of the Church of
Hieropolis; Miletum, the glory of that of Sardis, were Judæo-Christians.
Neither Paphias nor Polycrates of Ephesus quote Paul; the authority of John has
absorbed everything, and John is for these Churches a great Jewish priest. The
Churches of Asia in the second century, the Church of Laodicæa especially, are the scene of a controversy
This reaction must have set in shortly after the Apostle’s
death, perhaps even before. The second and third chapters of the Apocalypse are
a cry of hate against Paul and his friends. This Church of Ephesus, which owes
so much to Paul, is praised be-cause “it cannot bear with them which are evil,”
for having known how to “try them which say they are apostles and are not, and
have found them liars,” for hating “the deeds of the Nicolaitans,
which 1 also hate,” adds the celestial voice. The Church of Smyrna is
congratulated on being the object of the insults of men “which say they are
Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.” “But I have a few things
against thee,” says the Divine voice to the Church of Pergamos,
“because thou hast there them that hold the doctrine of Balaam, who taught Balak
to cast a stumbling-block before the children of Israel,—to eat things
sacrificed unto idols, and to commit fornication. So hast thou also them that
hold the doctrine of the Nicolaitans.” “Notwithstanding I have a few things
against thee,” says the same voice to the Church of Thyatira, “because thou sufferest that woman Jezebel, which calleth herself a prophetess,
to teach and to seduce my servants to commit fornication, and to eat things
sacrificed unto idols. And I gave her space to repent of her fornication; and
she repented not . . . But unto you
Let us say, then, if Paul had been the only missionary of Asia, one could not conceive that, so soon after his death (even supposing that he was dead when the Apocalypse appeared), his adherents could be represented as in a minority in the Churches of this country; one could not conceive that the Church of Ephesus, of which above all he was the principal founder, would have bestowed upon him an insulting nickname. Paul, as a rule, refused to trespass on the ground of others, to preach to, and to work in, the Churches which he had not established. But his enemies did not observe the same discretion. They followed him step by step, and applied themselves to destroy his works by insults and calumny.
At the same time that he took his share in the vast
propaganda which gained Asia to the worship of
We have seen that Apollos, after a short stay at Ephesus, where Aquila and Priscilla had worked at his Christian education, had set out for Corinth, with urgent letters from the brethren in Asia to those of Achaia, The knowledge and the eloquence of this new doctor were much admired by the Corinthians. Apollos equalled Paul in his knowledge of the Scriptures, and he greatly surpassed him in his literary culture. The Greek which he spoke was excellent, whilst that of the Apostle was extremely defective. He had also, it seems, the exterior gifts of the orator, which failed in Paul, the imposing attitude, the easy eloquence. What is quite certain is, that at Corinth he had remarkable success. His arguments with the Jews upon the question of knowing if Jesus was the Messiah, were regarded as very strong, and he made many conversions.
Apollos and St Paul appeared, among the new sect, in
different aspects. They were the only well-instructed Jews in the Jewish manner
who had embraced the doctrine of Jesus. But they came from different schools.
Paul came from the Pharisaism of Jerusalem, corrected by the liberal tendencies
of Gamaliel. Apollos came from the Judæo-Hellenic school of Alexandria: such
things we know by Philo; perhaps he was already instructed in the theories of
the logos, and was the introducer of these theories into Christian theology.
Paul had the kind of feverish
Among the light-hearted and brilliant populations of the shores of the Mediterranean, factions, parties, divisions are a social necessity. Life without that appears tedious. These people are bent on procuring for themselves the satisfaction of hating and of loving, of excitement, of jealousy, of triumphing over an opponent, even in the most trivial matters. The object of the division is insignificant; it is the division that is wanted, and that is sought for its own sake. Personal questions become, in societies of this kind, all important. When two teachers or two doctors meet in a little town of the south, the town divides into two parties on the merits of each of them. The two preachers, the two doctors, may be warm friends; they will not prevent their names from becoming the signal of keen contests, the banners of two opposing camps.
It was thus at Corinth. The talent of Apollos turned all
heads. His manner was absolutely different from that of Paul. The latter
charmed by his boldness, his passion, the keen impression of his ardent soul;
Apollos by his speech, which was elegant, correct, and assured. Some people, who
did not greatly love Paul. and who perhaps did not owe their
That was not the only cause of trouble. Corinth was a place
much frequented by strangers. The port of Cenchrea saw great numbers of Jews and
Syrians disembark every day, many of whom were already Christians, but of
another school than that of Paul, and by no means well disposed to the Apostle.
The emissaries of the Church of Jerusalem, whom we have already met at Antioch
and in Galatia, upon the footsteps of Paul, had reached Corinth. These
new-comers, great orators, full of boasting, fortified with letters of
recommendation from the Apostles of Jerusalem, rose against Paul, scattered
suspicions upon his honesty, questioned or denied his title of Apostle, and
pushed their indelicacy so far as to maintain that Paul himself did not believe
that he was really an Apostle, since he did not profit by the ordinary
privileges of an Apostle. His disinterestedness was made
At the same time, they represented the Apostles of
Jerusalem, especially James and Peter, as the true Apostles, the arch-apostles,
in some way. The new-comers, simply because they were of Jerusalem, claimed a
relationship with Christ after the flesh, considering the bond that they had
with James and with those whom Christ had chosen in his lifetime. They held that
God had established a single Doctor, who is Christ, who had instituted the
Twelve. Proud of their circumcision and of their Jewish descent, they sought to
impose as much as possible the yoke of legal observances. There was thus at
Corinth, as there was nearly everywhere else, a “party of Peter.” The division
was profound. “I am of Paul,” said some; “I am of Apollos,” said others; “I am
of Cephas,” said others still. Some people, finally wishing to pose
as superior spirits to these quarrellers, created a very spiritual title for
themselves. They invented as the name by which they would designate themselves,
that of the “party of Christ.” When the discussion got warm, and when
the names of Paul, Apollos, Peter (Cephas) crossed them in the battle, they
intervened with the name of that One whom they forgot. “I am of Christ,” said
they, and, as these juvenilities did not exclude at the bottom a truly Christian
spirit, the remembrance of Jesus had a powerful effect in restoring concord.
The name of this “party of Christ” involved nevertheless something of
hostility against the Apostle, and a certain ingratitude, since those who were
opposed to the “party of Paul” seemed to wish
Contact with the Pagans caused to the young Church no small dangers. These dangers came from Greek philosophy, and from bad morals, which everywhere assailing the Church in some degree, here penetrated it and undermined it. We have already seen that at Athens philosophy had stopped the progress of the preaching of Paul. Corinth was far from being a town of as high culture as Athens; there were, however, many well-instructed men there, who received the new doctrines very ill. The cross, the resurrection, the approaching restoration of all things, appeared to them follies and absurdities. The faith of many was shaken, and the attempt to bring about an impossible reconciliation altered the gospel. The irreconcilable struggle between positive science and the supernatural elements of the Christian faith began. This contest will only finish by the complete extinction of positive science in the Christian world in the sixth century; the same contest will be revived with positive science on the threshold of modern times.
The general immorality of Corinth produced upon the Church
the most disastrous effects. Many Christians had not been able to break
themselves away from loose habits, which, from being common, had almost ceased
to be thought culpable. They talked of strange and almost unheard of scandals
even in the assembly of the saints. The bad habits of the town crossed the
threshold of the Church, and corrupted it. The Jewish rules about marriage,
which all parts of the Christian Church proclaimed imperative and absolute, were
violated: Christians even lived publicly with their mothers-in-law. A spirit of
vanity, of frivolity, of disputation, of foolish pride, reigned among many. It
seemed as if there was not another Church in the world, so much did this community
But it was the agapes (love feasts) or mystic feasts above all which gave an opportunity for the most crying abuses. The scenes of rioting which followed the Pagan sacrifices were there reproduced. Instead of all things being common, each ate the part that he had brought; some went nearly drunk, others very hungry. The poor were covered with shame; the rich seemed by their abundance to insult those who had nothing. The remembrance of Jesus, and of the high significance which he had given to this repast, appeared forgotten. The corporal state of the Church was for the rest bad enough; there were many sick, and several had died. Death, in the state in which the mind of the faithful then was, caused much surprise and hesitation; sickness was held as a trial of faith or as a chastisement.
Had four years then sufficed to take all the virtue out of
the work of Jesus? Certainly not. There were still edifying families, in
particular that of Stephanas, who was entirely devoted to the service of the
Church, and was a model of evangelical activity. But the conditions of Christian
society were already much changed. The little Church of saints of the latter day
was thrown into a corrupted, frivolous world very little given to mysticism.
There were already bad Christians. The time was gone by when Ananias and
Sapphira were struck dead for having
These evil tidings reached Paul one upon another, and filled him with sadness. The first rumours only mentioned some faults against good morals. Paul wrote on this subject an epistle that we no longer have. He therein forbade to the faithful all communication with persons whose life was not pure. Some ill-intentioned men affected to give to this order a meaning which rendered it impossible to be executed. “Are we at Corinth then,” said they, “to have communications with irreproachable people only? . . . . But what is he thinking of? It is not only from Corinth, it is from the world that we must depart.” Paul was obliged to revert to this order, and explain it.
He knew the divisions which agitated the Church a little later, probably in April, by the brothers whom he called “them which are of the house of Chloe.” Just at this moment he thought of leaving Ephesus. Some motives which we do not know detained him there for some time. He sent into Greece before him, with powers equal to his own, his disciple Timothy, accompanied by several brothers, amongst others a certain Erastus, probably another than the treasurer of the town of Corinth, who bore the same name. Although the principal object of their journey was Corinth, they passed through Macedonia. Paul intended to take this journey himself, and, according to his custom, he caused his disciples to precede him to announce his arrival.
Shortly after the message of Chloe, and before Timothy and
his companion had arrived at Corinth, new envoys from this town came to find
Paul. These were the deacon Stephanas, Fortunatus, and Achaicus, three men very dear to the Apostle. Stephanas was
He began by an appeal to concord, and, under the appearance of humility, by an apology for his preaching,—
“Now this I say, that every one of you saith, I am of
Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ. Is Christ divided?
was Paul crucified for you? or were ye baptised in the name of Paul? I thank God
that I baptised none of you but Crispus and Gaius; lest any should say that I
baptised in mine own name. And I baptised also the household of Stephanas:
besides I know not whether I baptised any other. For Christ sent me not to
baptise, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the
“And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with
excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. For
I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and him
crucified. And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.
And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but
in demonstration of the Spirit and of power; that your faith should not stand in
the wisdom of men, but in the power of
“And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual,
but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with milk, and
not with meat; for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye
able. For ye are yet carnal: for whereas there is among you envying, and strife,
and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as men? For when one saith, I am of
Paul, and another, I am of Apollos, are ye not carnal? Who then is Paul, and who
is Apollos, but ministers
“Let a man so account of us, as of the ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God. . . . But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged of you, or of man’s judgment; yea, I judge not mine own self . . . but he that judgeth me is the Lord. . . . Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts: and then shall every man have praise of God.
“And these things, brethren, I have in a figure transferred
to myself and to Apollos for your sakes that no one of you be puffed up for one against
“I write not these things to shame you, but as my beloved sons I warn you. For though ye have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel. Wherefore I beseech you, be ye followers of me. For this cause have I sent unto you Timotheus, who is my beloved son, and faithful in the Lord, who shall bring you into remembrance of my ways, which be in Christ, as I teach everywhere in every Church. Now some are puffed up, as though I would not come to you. But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord will, and will know, not the speech of them which are puffed up, but the power. For the Kingdom of God is not in word, but in power. What will ye? Shall I come unto you with a rod, or in love, and in the spirit of meekness?”
After this general apology, the Apostle approaches each of the abuses which had been pointed out to him, and the questions which had been put to him. It is for the incestuous an extreme severity.
“It is reported commonly among you that there is
There can be no doubt: it is a sentence of death that Paul pronounces. Terrible legends were circulated as to the effect of the excommunications. It is to be remembered, besides, that Paul seriously believed in the working of miracles. By only delivering to Satan the body of the blameable, he doubtless believed himself to be indulgent.
The order that Paul had given in a preceding letter (lost)
to the Corinthians, to avoid the shameless, had brought about mistakes. Paul
developed his idea. The Christian has not to judge the world without, but to be
severe only upon those who are within. A single spot on the purity of life ought
to be sufficient to exclude one from the Christian society; it is forbidden so
much as to eat with a delinquent. Thus it may seem in a convent, a congregation
of pious persons, occupied in watching and judging each other, much more than in
a church, in the modern sense of the word. The whole Church, in the eyes of the
Apostle, is responsible for the faults committed within its bosom. This
exaggeration of severity had its reason for its existence in ancient society,
which sinned in so many other ways. But we feel that such an idea of sanctity is
narrow-minded, illiberal, contrary to the morality of him whom we formerly called
The ideal type of moral perfection, according to Paul, is a man, gentle, honest, chaste, sober, charitable, unfettered by riches. Humility of condition and poverty are almost necessary for one who would be a Christian. The words “miser, greedy one, thief,” are nearly synonymous; at least the vices which they designate are liable to the same reproach. The antipathy of this little world for the great profane society was strange. Paul, following in that the Jewish tradition, reproves as an act unworthy of the faithful any reference to the courts of law.
“Dare any of you, having a matter against another, go to law before the unjust, and not before the saints? Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world? and if the world be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters? . . . Know ye not that we shall judge angels? How much more things that pertain to this life? If then ye have judgments of things pertaining to the life, set them to judge who are least esteemed in this church. I speak to your shame. Is it so, that there is not a wise man among you? No, not one that shall be able to judge between his brethren? But brother goeth to law with brother, and that before the unbelievers. Now therefore there is utterly a fault among you, because ye go to law one with another. Why do ye not rather take wrong? Why do ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded? Nay, ye do wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren!”
The relations of the sexes were a matter of the gravest
difficulty. The Apostle was occupied with
Marriages contracted between Christians and unbelievers
may be continued. “For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and
the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband,” in the same manner that the
children are sanctified by the parents. One can, moreover, hope that the
faithful spouse will convert the unfaithful. But new marriages can only be
between Christians. All these questions will present themselves under the most
singular light, since the end of the world was believed to be at hand. In the
state of crisis which existed, pregnancy and the begetting of children appeared
anomalies. There is little marrying in the sect, and one of the most untoward
consequences for those who had associated these was the impossibility of
establishing their daughters. Many murmured, finding that thing unbecoming and contrary to
“The time is short; it remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had none; and they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this world, as not abusing it, for the fashion of this world passeth away. But I would have you without carefulness. He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: but he that is married careth for the things of the world, how he may please his wife. There is a difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband. And this I speak for your own profit; not that I may cast a snare upon you, but for that which is comely, and that ye may attend upon the Lord without distraction.”
Religious exaltation always produces such sentiments.
Orthodox Judaism, which, however, showed itself opposed to celibacy, and which
treated marriage as a duty, had doctors who reasoned like Paul. “Why should I
marry?” said Rabbi ben Azai. “I am in love with the Law; the human race can be
perpetuated by others.” Later on, as will appear, Paul expressed
upon this subject much juster thoughts, and saw in the union of man and wife a
symbol of the love of Christ for his Church; he placed as the supreme law of
marriage the love of the man on the one hand, and the submission of the woman on
The question of the meats offered to idols is resolved by St Paul with great good sense. The Judæo-Christians held that total abstinence from such meats was a duty, and it appears that it had been agreed at the Council of Jerusalem that they should be generally forbidden. Paul has broader views. According to him, the circumstance of a piece of meat having been part of a sacrificed beast is insignificant. The false gods being nothing, the meat which is offered to them is not defiled. Any meat exposed in the market may be bought freely, without there being any need for asking questions as to the origin of each morsel. A reserve, however, ought to be made: there are scrupulous consciences which take that for idolatry; and the enlightened man ought to be guided not only by principle, but also by charity. He ought to forbid himself the things which are permitted, if weak brethren are scandalised by it. Knowledge exalts, but charity edifies. “All things are lawful unto you, but all things are not expedient; but all this edify not. Let no man seek his own, but every man another’s wealth.” It is one of the favourite ideas of Paul, and the explanation of several episodes of his life, in which one sees him subdue himself out of regard for timorous persons, to observances which he did not consider of the least value. “If the meat that I eat,” says he, “innocent as it is, scandalises my brother, I will renounce eating it for ever.”
Some faithful people, however, went a little further.
Constrained by family relationships, they took part in the festivities which
followed the sacrifices, and which took place in the temples. Paul blames this
custom, and, according to a method of reasoning familiar to him, starts on a
different principle from that which he had just before admitted. The gods of the nations are
“Follow my example,” he continues. “Am I not an
apostle? am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord? are not ye my
work in the Lord? If I be not an apostle unto others, yet, doubtless, I am to
you: for the seal of mine apostleship are ye in the Lord. Mine answer to them
that do examine me is this, Have we not power to eat and to drink? Have we not
power to lead about a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles, and as the
brethren of the Lord, and Cephas? Or I only and Barnabas, have not we power to
forbear working? Who goeth a warfare anytime at his own charges? who planteth a
vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and
eateth not of the milk of the flock? . . . If we have sown unto you spiritual
things, is it a great thing that ye shall reap your carnal things? If others be
partakers of this power over you, are not we rather? Nevertheless, we have not
used this power; but suffer all things, lest we should hinder the gospel of
Christ. . . . What is my reward then? Verily, that, when I preach the gospel, I
may make the gospel of Christ without charge, that I abuse not my power in the
gospel. And unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews; to them that are under the
As for the question of the place of women in the church, we can easily see that the Apostle will decide it with his unyielding harshness. He blames the bold efforts of the Corinthian women, and recalls them to the practice of other communities. Women ought not to speak or even ask questions in church. The gift of tongues is not for them. They ought to be submissive to their husbands. If they wish to know anything, let them ask their husbands at home. It is also shameful for a woman to appear without a veil in church, unless she be shorn or shaven. The veil is, moreover, necessary “because of the angels.” It was supposed that the angels present at divine service are capable of being tempted by the sight of the hair of women, or at least of being distracted by this sight from their duty, which is to bear to God the prayers of the saints. “The head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God. . . . For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of the man. For the man is not of the woman; but the woman of the man . . . but all things of God.”
The related observations on the “Supper of the Lord” have an immense historical interest. This feast became more and more the essential part of Christian worship. More and more also is spread abroad the idea that Jesus himself was eating there. That, without doubt, was metaphorical; but the metaphor in the Christian language of this time was not openly distinct from the reality. In every case this sacrament was in a great degree a sacrament of union and of love.
“The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread. Behold Israel after the flesh; are not they which eat of the sacrifices partakers of the altar? . . . For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, That the Lord Jesus the same night in which he was betrayed took bread: And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, ‘Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me.’ After the same manner also he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, ‘This cup is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord’s death till he come. Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup. For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.”
The penalty incurred by not acknowledging the high sanctity
of the Supper of the Lord is not eternal damnation—there are temporal trials, or
even
death—
The Apostle then traces the theory of the manifestations
of the Spirit. Under the badly-defining names of “gifts,” “services”
(offices), and “powers,” he arranges thirteen functions, constituting
all the hierarchy and all the forms of supernatural activity. Three functions
are openly designated and subordinated to each other. They are, 1st, the
function of an apostle; 2d, that of a prophet; 3d, that of a teacher. Then come
gifts, services, or powers which, without conferring so elevated a permanent
character, serve for perpetual manifestations of the Spirit. These are, 1st, the
word of wisdom; 2d, the word of knowledge; 3d, faith; 4th, the gifts of healing; 5th, the power of working miracles; 6th, the discerning of spirits; 7th, the
gift of speaking in divers kinds of tongues; 8th, the interpretations of tongues
thus spoken; 9th, the works of charity; 10th, the cares of administration. All
these functions are good, useful, necessary; they ought neither to undervalue
nor to envy each other. All have the same source. All the “gifts” come from the
Holy Ghost, all the “services” come out from Christ, all the “powers”
come from God. The body has several members, and yet is one; the division of
functions is necessary in the Church as in the body. These functions can no more be divided from each
Borne along by a truly prophetical inspiration beyond the confused ideas and blundering which he had just exposed, Paul then wrote this admirable passage, the only one in all Christian literature which can be compared to the discourses of Jesus.
“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and
have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And
though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all
knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and
have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the
poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth
me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh
not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in
iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things,
hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth; but whether there
be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease;
whether there be knowledge,
Versed in experimental psychology, Paul went a little further. He had said,—“Brethren, leave illusions. These inarticulate stammerings, these ecstasies, these miracles, are the dreams of your infancy. That which is not visionary—that which is eternal—is what I have just preached to you.” But then if he had not been of his time, he would not have done what he did. Is it not already a great deal to have indicated this capital distinction of eternal religious truths, which are infallible, and of those which, like the dreams of the first age, come to nought? Has he not done enough for immortality by having written this sentence, “The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life?” Woe to him who would stop on the surface, and who, for the sake of two or three visionary gifts, would forget that in this strange enumeration—among the diaconies and the charismata of the primitive Church, are the care of those who suffer, the administration of charitable funds, reciprocal assistance! Paul enumerates these duties in the last place, and as humble things. But his piercing glance can still read the truth here. “Take care,” says he, “that our humblest members are justly the most honoured.” Prophets, speakers with tongues, doctors, you will pass. Deacons, devoted widows, administrators of the good of the Church, you will remain: you build for eternity.”
In the laying down of rules relative to spiritual exercises, Paul shows his practical spirit. He puts preaching highly above the gift of tongues. Without absolutely denying the reality of the gift of tongues, he makes on this subject reflections which are equivalent to blaming it. The gift of tongues does not speak to men; it speaks to God. No one can understand it; it only edifies him who is speaking. Preaching, on the contrary, serves for the edification and consolation of all. The gift of tongues is only good if it be interpreted—that is to say, if other faithful people specially endowed for that intervene, and know that they hold the sense of it. By itself, it is like indistinct music; we hear the sound of the flute or cithara, but know not the piece that these instruments are playing. It is like a badly-blown trumpet: it makes a great noise, but as it says nothing clear, nobody obeys the uncertain signal or prepares for the combat. If the tongue does not give clearly articulated sounds, it does but beat the air; a discourse in a tongue that no one understands has no meaning. Thus much of the gift of tongues is without interpretation. Moreover, the gift of tongues in itself is barren; the meaning of it remains without fruit.
“Else when thou shalt bless with the Spirit, how shall he
that occupieth the room of the unlearned say Amen at thy giving of thanks,
seeing he understandest not what thou sayest? For thou verily givest thanks
well, but the other is not edified. I thank my God I speak with tongues more
than ye all; yet in the Church I had rather speak five words with my
understanding, that by my voice I might teach others also, than ten thousand
words in an unknown tongue. Brethren, be not children in understanding; howbeit
in malice be ye children, but in understanding be men. . . . If therefore the
whole Church be come together into one place, and
Some strange noises, which were called the gift of tongues, and in which were mixed Greek, Syriac, the words anathema maran atha, the names of “Jesus, of Lord,” greatly embarrassed simple men. Paul, when consulted on this subject, practised what was called “the discerning of spirits,” and to distinguish in this confused jargon what might come from the spirit and what might not.
The fundamental dogma of the primitive Church, the
resurrection, and the approaching end of the world, hold a considerable place in
this epistle. The Apostle returns to it eight or nine different times.
“But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and
with what body do they come? Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened
except it die: And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall
be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain: but God
giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body. All
flesh is not the same flesh: but there is one kind of flesh of man, another
flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and another of birds. There are also
celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one,
and the glory of the
Alas, the Christ came not. All died one after another.
Paul, who was believed to be one of those who would live till near the great
appearance, died in his turn. We shall see how neither faith nor hope stopped
for that. No experience, however desolating it may be, appears decisive to
humanity, when it is concerned with these sacred dogmas in which it finds, not
without reason, its consolation and joy. It is easy for us to find that after a
time that these hopes were exaggerated; it were well, nevertheless, that those
who have partaken of them had not been so clear sighted. Paul tells us candidly
that, if he had not counted upon the resurrection, he would have led the life of
a peaceable citizen, wholly occupied with his vulgar pleasures. Some sages of
the first order—Marcus Aurelius, Spinoza, for example—have gone
Paul, according to his habit, added to the end of the letter,—
“The salutation of me, Paul, with mine own hand. If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema. Maran atha.”
He confided his letter to Stephanas, Fortunatus, and
Achaicus, who had brought that of the Corinthians to him. Paul thought the three deputies
Paul strongly urged Apollos to join Stephanas, and to return to Corinth, but Apollos wished rather to postpone his departure. From this moment we lose sight of him. Tradition, however, continues to regard him as a disciple of Paul. It is probable, in truth, that he continued his apostolic career, putting to the service of the Christian doctrine his Jewish erudition and his elegant style.
Paul, however, revolved in his mind boundless projects, in which he believed, according to his constant habit, that he saw the dictates of the Spirit. There happened to Paul, what often happens to persons accustomed to a species of activity. He could not leave what had been the occupation of his life. Travelling had become necessary to him: he sought occasions for it. He wished to revisit Macedonia, Achaia, then to visit Jerusalem anew, then to set out to try new missions in countries farther off, and not yet reached by the faith, such as Italy and Spain. The idea of going to Rome tormented him. “I must see Rome,” he often said. He foresaw that the centre of Christianity would one day be there, or at least that decisive events would happen there. The journey to Jerusalem was another project which greatly pre-occupied him far more than a year.
To calm the jealous feelings of the Church of Jerusalem,
and to fulfil one of the conditions of the peace which was signed at the time of the interview of the
Paul began the gathering about the year 56. He wrote of it first to the Corinthians, then to the Galatians, and without doubt to other Churches. He returned to it in his new letter to the Corinthians. There were in the Churches of Asia Minor and Greece people in easy circumstances, but none with large for-tunes. Paul knew the economical habits of the world in which he had lived. The insistence with which he presents his maintenance as a heavy charge with which he was not desirous of burdening the Churches, proves that he himself suffered from the petty embarrassments of poor men, obliged to be careful about trifles. He thought that if, in the Churches of Greece, they waited his arrival before collecting the alms, the business would be a failure. He still wished each one on Sunday to put aside an amount, proportioned to his means, for this pious end. This little treasure of charity thus constantly added to, must wait his arrival. Then, the Churches would elect deputies, whom Paul would send with letters of recommendation to bear the offering to Jerusalem. Perhaps even, if the result was worth the trouble, Paul would go in person, and in that case the deputies would accompany him. So much honour, and so much happiness, to go to Jerusalem, to travel in company with Paul, greatly agitated the believers. An emulation in well-doing, skilfully encouraged by the great master in the art of the direction of souls, kept everybody on the alert. This contribution was, during some months, the thought which sustained life, and made all hearts to beat.
Timothy soon returned to Ephesus, as Paul had desired him.
He brought the news later than that of the departure of Stephanas; but there is
reason to believe that he had left the town before Stephanas went there on his return; for it is by Titus that Paul
But new trials had just compelled him anew to modify his designs. Few periods in the life of Paul were so troubled as this. For the first time he found the limit overrun, and avowed that all his strength had departed. Jews, Pagans, Christians, hostile to his supremacy, appeared to be sworn together against him. The situation of the Church of Corinth gave him a kind of fever; he sent messenger after messenger to it; he daily changed his resolution with regard to it. Sickness, probably, befell him there: he believed he was about to die. A riot which had taken place at Ephesus still further complicated the situation, and obliged him to set out without awaiting the return of Titus.
The temple of Diana offered a terrible obstacle to
One of the industries of the town of Ephesus was that of the silversmiths, who made little shrines of Diana. Strangers carried away with them these objects, which, placed afterwards upon their tables or in the interior of their houses, represented to them the celebrated sanctuary. A great number of craftsmen were employed in this work. Like all manufacturers living by the piety of pilgrims, these workmen were very fanatical. To preach a religion opposed to that which had enriched them, appeared to them a piece of frightful sacrilege; it was as if in our days one were to declaim against the worship of the Virgin at Fourvières or La Salette. One of the formulas in which were summed up the new doctrine was: “The gods made with hands are not gods.” This doctrine had become sufficiently public to cause anxiety to the silversmiths. Their chief, named Demetrius, excited them to a violent manifestation, maintaining that he himself acted before all for the honour of the temple that Asia and the whole world worshipped. The workmen rushed into the streets, crying, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” and in a short time all the town was filled with confusion.
The crowd was borne along to the theatre, the ordinary
place of assembly. The theatre of Ephesus, whose immense outline, despoiled of
nearly all its completeness—still to be seen on the flanks of Mount
In terms of the letter which he had sent by Titus to the Christians of Corinth, Paul would first of all embark for that town. But he was cruelly perplexed: the anxieties that he had because of Achaia rendered him undecided. At the last moment, he again changed his route. The time did not appear to him opportune for a visit to Corinth; there was much discontent, and a disposition to proceed with vigour. Perhaps his presence might provoke revolt and schism. He did not know what effect his letter had produced, and he was very anxious about it. He believed himself, moreover, to be stronger at a distance than near at hand: his presence impressed people very little; his letters, on the contrary, were his triumph. In general, men who have a certain timidity prefer to write rather than speak. He preferred then not to go to Corinth until he had seen Titus again, but rather to write anew to the indocile Church. Thinking that severity is exercised better at a distance, he hoped that his new letter would bring his adversaries to a better state of mind. The Apostle resumed, therefore, his former plan of travelling. He summoned the faithful, addressed his farewells to them, gave orders that, when Titus should arrive, he should be sent to Troas, and set out for Macedonia, accompanied by Timothy. Perhaps he took, as assistants from thence, the two deputies of Ephesus, Tychicus and Trophimus, charged to bear to Jerusalem the offerings of Asia. This must have been in the month of June in the year 57. Paul’s sojourn at Ephesus had lasted three years.
During so long an apostleship, he had had time to give to
this Church a strength proof against all trials. Ephesus will be henceforth one
of the metropolitan cities of Christianity, and the place in which its most
important transformations will occur. It was necessary, moreover, that this
Church should be exclusively Pauline, like the Churches of Macedonia, and the
Aquila and Priscilla, the assistants of Paul, continued
after his departure to be the centre of the Church. Their house, in which the
Apostle had dwelt, was the place of meeting of all that was most pious and
zealous. Paul was pleased to celebrate every-where the merits of this
respectable couple, to whom he recognised that he owed his life. All the
Churches of Paul had for them a great veneration. Epænetus, the first Ephesian
whom they converted, came after them; then a certain Mary, who appears to have
been a deaconess, an active and devoted woman; then Urbane, whom Paul names his
co-operator; then Apelles, to whom Paul gives the title “approved in Christ;”
then Rufus, “chosen in the Lord,” who had an aged mother, whom the
Apostle, out of respect, called “My mother.” Besides Mary, other
women, true sisters of charity, were vowed to the service of the faithful. These
were Tryphena and Tryphosa, “who labour in the Lord;” then Persis,
particularly dear to Paul, and who had valiantly worked with him. There were
still Ampliatus or Amplias, the Jew Herodion, Stachys, beloved by Paul; a
Church or conventicle composed of Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermas, Patrobas, Hermes,
and many others; another Church or a little society composed of Philologus and
Julia, of Nereus and “his sister” (that is to say, probably his
wife), of Olympas, and of several others. Two great houses of Ephesus, those of
Aristobulus and of Narcissus, counted among
At a much more perilous time appeared Artemas, who is said to have been a companion of Paul; Alexander the coppersmith, Phygellus Hermogenus, who seems to have left an evil reputation behind him,—provoked schisms or excommunications, and to have been considered as traitors in the school of Paul; Onesiphorus and his house, who, on the contrary, would have shown themselves more than once full of love and devotion towards the Apostle.
Several of the names which have just been enumerated are
the names of slaves; thus much we see in their peculiar designations, in which
is the ironical emphasis which make them so like to the grotesque names that are
given to negroes in the colonies. It is not improbable that there were already
among the Christians many persons of servile condition. Slavery, in many cases,
did not induce so complete an attachment to the master’s house as
our modern domesticity. The slaves of certain categories were free to mix
together, to associate to a certain extent, to form brotherhoods, a kind of
tontine or club, in view of their funerals. It is not impossible that
several of the pious men and women who had given themselves up to the service of
the Church were slaves, and that the hours that they gave to the diaconate were
those that their masters allowed them. At the time in which these events
happened, the servile class comprised
Paul, on leaving Ephesus, probably went by land, for at
least part of the way. He had calculated, in fact, that Titus, going by sea from
Ephesus to Troas would have reached this latter point before him. This
This second stay of Paul in Macedonia must have occupied six
months, from June to November 57. Paul employed himself all this time in
confirming his beloved Churches. His principal residence was at Thessalonica; he
was constrained, however, to dwell also for some time at Philippi and at Beræa.
Troubles which had filled the last months of his stay at Ephesus seemed to
pursue him. During the first days after his arrival he had no rest. His life was
a continual struggle: the gravest apprehensions stood in his way. These cares
and afflictions did not assuredly come from the Churches of Macedonia. There
could not be more perfect Churches, more generous, more devoted to the Apostle;
nowhere had he met with so much heart, nobleness, and simplicity. He found a
good many bad Christians—sensual, earthly—on whose account the Apostle expressed
himself with much vivacity, calling them “enemies of the Cross of Christ whose
end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame,
who mind earthly things,” and upon whom he denounces eternal ruin;
Titus at last rejoined him, and consoled him for all his
griefs. He brought, in a word, good news, although the clouds were far from
being wholly dissipated. The letter had produced the most profound effect. At
its reading, Paul’s disciples had listened in tears. Nearly all had testified to
Titus, whilst shedding tears, the profound affection that they bore for the
Apostle, sorrow for having grieved him, the desire of seeing him again, and of
obtaining pardon from him. These Greek natures, unsteady and inconstant, came
back to the right path as quickly as they had left it. His expressions
frightened them. They supposed that the Apostle was armed with the most terrible
powers; before his threats, all those who owed their faith to him, trembled and
sought to exculpate themselves. They had not indignation enough against the
guilty; each sought by his zeal against others to justify himself, and to turn
aside the severity of the Apostle. Titus was overwhelmed by Paul’s disciples
with the most delicate attentions. He came back enchanted by the reception that
they had given him, by the fervour, by the docility, by the goodwill that he had
found in the spiritual family of his master. The subscription was not much
advanced, but there was a hope that it would be fruitful. The sentence
pronounced against the incestuous had been softened, or rather Satan, to whom
Paul had given them up, did not execute the decree. The sinner was allowed to
live on; the Apostle had the credit of giving an indulgent consent to what was
after all a mere following of the course of nature. They did not even chase him
absolutely from the Church, but they avoided having relations with him. Titus
had conducted all this business with
This joy was not unmixed. His enemies were far from yielding; the epistle had exasperated them, and they made the keenest criticisms upon it. They noted that it was hard and insulting to the Church; they accused the Apostle of pride and vanity; “His letters,” said they, “are severe and energetic; but his figure is mean, and his speech without authority.” They attributed to personal hate his rigour towards the incestuous. They treated him as a foolish, extravagant, conceited, and indiscreet man. The changes in his plans of journey were presented as proofs of instability. Agitated by this double news, the Apostle set about dictating to Timothy a new letter, destined, on the one hand, to lessen the effect of the first, and to bear to his beloved Church, which he believed himself to have wounded, the expression of his paternal sentiments; on the other, to reply to the adversaries who had failed for the moment to carry away the hearts of his children from him.
As for his enemies, Paul knew that he had not disarmed
them. At each instant there are lively and smart allusions to these people “which corrupt the word of God,” above all, to those letters of recommendation
which they have turned to his detriment. His enemies are false apostles,
deceitful workers, who disguise themselves as the apostles of Christ. Satan
sometimes changes himself into an angel of light; therefore is it astonishing
if his ministers transform themselves into ministers of righteousness? Their
end shall be according to their works. They pretend that he has not known the Christ. He does not agree
This modesty was not feigned. But it is difficult for a man of action to be modest; he runs the risk of being taken literally. The least egotistical of the Apostles is incessantly compelled to speak of himself. He calls himself an abortion, the least of the saints, the least of the Apostles, unworthy of that name, since he has persecuted the Church of God; but do not believe that for all that he resigns his prerogative.
“But by the grace of God I am what I am: and His grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me. . . .
“For I suppose I was not a whit behind the very chiefest Apostles. But though I be rude in speech, yet not in knowledge; but we have been thoroughly made manifest among you in all things. Have I committed an offence in abasing myself that ye might be exalted, because I have preached to you the gospel of God freely? I robbed other Churches, taking wages of them to do you service. And when I was present with you, and wanted, I was chargeable to no man: for that which was lacking to me, the brethren which came from Macedonia supplied: and in all things I have kept myself from being burdensome unto you, and so will I keep myself. As the truth of Christ is in me, no man shall stop me of this boasting in the regions of Achaia. Wherefore? because I love you not? God knoweth. But what I do, that I will do, that I may cut off occasion from them which desire occasion; that wherein they glory, they may be found even as we. . . .”
Arming himself with the accusation of madness, that his adversaries raised against him, he accepts for a moment this position which they have lent him, and, under the mask of oratorical irony, he makes the madman throw in the face of his adversaries the harshest truths.
“Truly I am become a fool in glorying; you have compelled me. I should have been exempt from it, if you had wished to charge yourselves with my apology to those who attack me. I am nothing; but I yield in nothing to the very chiefest Apostles. Truly I have wrought the signs of an Apostle among you in all patience, in signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds. For what is it wherein ye were inferior to other Churches, except it be that I myself was not burdensome to you? Forgive me this injustice. It is the third time that I have announced my approaching arrival to you. This time I will not be burdensome to you; for I seek not yours, but you. For the children ought not to lay up for the parents, but the parents for the children. And, I will very gladly spend and be spent for you; though the more abundantly I love you the less I be loved.
“But if it be so, it may be said I have not been directly
in your charge, but, crafty rogue that I am, I have skilfully swindled you of
the silver that I refused to accept. Did I gain anything by any of those whom I
have sent to you? I sent Titus to you, and with him a brother whom you know.
Did Titus make a profit out of you? Walked we not in the same spirit and in the
same steps? . . . For I fear lest, when I come, I shall not find you such as I
would, and that I shall be found unto you such as ye would not: lest there be
debates, envyings, wraths, strifes, backbitings, whisperings, swellings,
tumults. And lest when I come again, my God will humble me among you, and that I
shall bewail many which have sinned already, and have not repented of the
uncleanness and fornication and lasciviousness which they have committed. This
is the third time I am coming unto you . . . I told you before, and warn you, absent
Paul, we see, had reached that great state of exaltation in which the religious founders of the first order lived. His thoughts lifted him out of himself. The manner in which to execute the contribution for the poor of Jerusalem was at this time his consolation. Macedonia showed an exemplary zeal in it. Those excellent souls gave with a joy, with an eagerness, which ravished the Apostle. Nearly all the members of the sect had suffered in their little way through having adhered to the new doctrine; but in their poverty they still knew how to find something for a work which the Apostle designated as excellent. The hopes of Paul were more than fulfilled; the faithful nearly went down on their knees, to beg the Apostle to accept the necessarily small donations which they were able to offer. They would have given themselves, if the Apostle would have accepted them. Paul, pushing his delicacy almost to exaggerated refinement, and wishing, as he said, to be irreproachable not only before God but before men, requiring that they should choose at the election deputies charged to carry the offering of each Church, carefully sealed, so as to disperse the suspicions that malevolence would certainly cast upon him concerning his management of considerable funds. These deputies followed him already everywhere, and formed around him a kind of escort always ready to execute his missions. They were those whom he calls “the envoys of the Churches, the glory of Christ”
Cleverness, suppleness of language, the epistolary
dexterity of Paul, were employed entirely in this
Paul prayed the faithful Titus to return to Corinth and to continue the work of charity there which he had so well begun. Titus had desired this mission, and received it with eagerness. The Apostle gave him two companions, whose names we do not know. One was of the number of the deputies who had been elected to bear the offering from Macedonia to Jerusalem; “his praise,” says Paul, “is in the Gospel throughout all the Churches.” The other was a brother “whom Paul had oftentimes proved diligent in many things, but now much more diligent, upon the great confidence which he had in the Church of Corinth.” Neither of those indications suffices to settle who is meant. Paul prayed the Corinthians to keep up the good opinion which he had tried to give of them to these three persons, and employs to excite their generosity a little charitable manœuvre which raises a smile.
“For I know the forwardness of your mind, for which I boast
of you to them of Macedonia, that Achaia was ready a year ago; and your zeal
hath provoked very many. Yet have I sent the brethren, lest our boasting of you
should be vain in this behalf; that, as I said, ye may be ready: lest haply if they
This letter was carried to Corinth by Titus and by the two
brethren who accompanied him. Paul remained still for some months in Macedonia.
The times were still very hard. Scarcely ever has there been a Church which has
not had to contend with ever-recurring difficulties. Patience is the
recommendation that the Apostle addresses the oftenest. “Tribulations,
distresses, pangs, cudgellings, prisons, bad treatment, vigils, fastings,—purity,
long-suffering, honesty, sincere charity, such is our life; sometimes
honoured, sometimes despised, sometimes slandered, sometimes respected; held as
impostors, as well as truthful ones; as unknown, yet well known (of God); as
dying, whilst we live; as men whom God chastises
Paul, according to our calculation, set out from
Macedonia, and came to Greece at the end of November or the beginning of
December 57. He had with him the delegates chosen by the Churches of Macedonia
to accompany him to Jerusalem, and to carry himself and the alms of the
faithful, amongst others Sopater or Sosipater, son of Pyrrhus of Beræa, a
certain Lucius, a certain Tertius, Aristarchus, and Secundus of Thessalonica.
Jason of Thessalonica, his host since his first voyage, accompanied him also, it
seems. Perhaps, finally, the deputies of Asia—Tychicus, and Trophimus of
Ephesus, Gaius from Derbe, were already with him. Timothy about this time did
not leave him. All these made a kind of apostolic caravan of a very imposing
aspect. When they had rejoined Titus and the two brothers who had accompanied
him, Corinth really possessed all the leaders of the new movement. Paul,
conformably to his former plan, which he had several times modified, but which
he finished by carrying out in its essential lines, passed
The Apostle, not having any longer at his disposal the kindly hospitality of Aquila and Priscilla, lodged this time at the house of Caius, whose house served for the meetings of the whale Church, and to whom he was attached by a bond then held very sacred. Stephanas was perhaps dead or absent. Paul always observed at Corinth much reserve, for he did not feel himself to be on very firm ground. Seeing the danger that association with the world offered in a town so corrupted, he reverted always to broad principles, and advised avoiding all relations with the Pagans. The welfare of the souls at such a time was his only rule, the only end which he proposed to himself.
It is probable that the presence of Paul at Corinth calmed altogether the dissentients, who, for several months, gave him much anxiety. A bitter allusion which he made about this time to “those who vaunt themselves of works that Christ has not done by them,” and of others, “who build upon another man’s foundations,” shows, however, that a vivid impression of the evil works of his adversaries remained with him. The business of the subscription had gone forward as he desired—Macedonia and Achaia had contributed a large sum. The Apostle had at last an interval of repose; he utilised it by writing, always under the form of an epistle, a kind of summing up of his theological doctrine.
As this great document interested all Christianity equally,
Paul addressed it chiefly to the Churches which he had founded, and with which
he could communicate at this time. The Churches favoured with such an address
were four in number at the least. One was the Church of Ephesus; a copy was also sent
This precious writing, the foundation of all Christian theology, is mainly that in which the ideas of Paul are exposed in better order. There appears in full daylight the great idea of the Apostle: there the law is put on one side; works are of no value; salvation comes only from Jesus, Son of God, raised from the dead. Jesus, who, in the eyes of the Judæo-Christian school, is a great prophet, come to fulfil the law, is, in the eyes of Paul, a divine apparition, rendering useless all that has preceded him, even the Law. Jesus and the Law are for Paul two opposite things. He who accords to the Law excellence and efficacy is a traitor to Jesus. To overthrow the Law, is to exalt Jesus. Greeks, Jews, Barbarians, all are equal; the Jews are first called, then the Greeks: all are saved only by faith in Jesus.
What can man do, indeed, if he be left to himself? One
thing only—he can sin. And at first, in that which concerns Pagans, the spectacle of the visible
Whence then does justification come? From faith in Jesus, without distinction of race. All men were sinners; Jesus has been the propitiatory victim; His death has been the redemption that God has accepted for the sins of the world, the works of the law not having been able to justify the world. God is not only the God of the Jews, He is also the God of the Gentiles. It was by faith that Abraham was justified, since it is written, “He believed, and it was accounted to him for righteousness.” Justification is free; one has no right to it by merit; it is an imputed grace and an all-merciful act of the Divinity.
The fruit of justification is peace with God, hope, and
consequently patience, which enables us to show our glory and our happiness in tribulation, according
Sin and death were brought into the world by one man, Adam, in whom all have sinned. Grace and salvation were brought into the world by one Man, Christ, in whom all are justified. Two typical men have existed, “the first Adam,” or the earthly Adam, the origin of all disobedience; “the second Adam,” or the heavenly Adam, the origin of all justice. Humanity divides itself between these two leaders of the human race, some following the earthly Adam, others the spiritual Adam. The Law has served only to multiply offences, and to make sinners conscious of them. It is grace which, superabounding where offence has abounded, has effaced all, so that one may almost say that, thanks to Jesus, sin has been happiness, and has only served to bring to light the mercy of God.
But, it will be said, let us sin then that grace may abound; let us do evil, that good may come. That, says Paul, is what they assert of
me, thus falsifying my doctrine. Nothing is further from my thoughts. Those who
have been baptised in Christ are dead to sin, buried with Christ, to rise again
and live with Him—that is to say, lead a new life. Our “old man,” that is to
say, the man that we were before baptism, has been crucified with Christ.
Because the Christian is not under the Law, it does not follow that he may sin.
From the slavery of sin, he has passed to the service of righteousness; from the
way of sin unto death, to the way of life. The Christian, moreover, is dead to
the Law; for the Law created sin. In itself, it was good and holy, but it made
sin known; it aggravated it, so that the commandment which should have created life, created death. A
The true Christian, being delivered from the Law and from
concupiscence, is then safe from damnation, by the mercy of God, who has sent
His only Son to take upon Him a body of sinful flesh like our own, to destroy
sin. But this deliverance does not take place if he destroy not his life
according to the flesh, and live according to the Spirit. The wisdom of the
flesh is the great enemy of God; it is even death. The Spirit, on the contrary,
is life. By Him we have been made the adopted sons of God, whereby we cry Abba,
that is to say, “Father.” But, if we are the sons of God, we are also
His heirs, and joint heirs with Christ. After having partaken of His sufferings,
we shall also partake of His glory. What are all the sufferings of this present
time compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us? The whole creation
waits for this great revelation of the sons of God.
What a motive of assurance, moreover! It is by a direct act of
God that we are destined for the metamorphosis which will make us like
His Son, and who will make of all living a body of brethren of whom Jesus will
be the first born. By His foreknowledge, God knows His elect beforehand; those
whom He knows, He predestinates; those whom He predestinates, He calls; those
whom He calls, He justifies; those whom He justifies, He glorifies. Let us be
tranquil: if for us God has not spared His only Son, but has delivered Him to
death, what can He refuse us? Who will be in the day of judgment the accuser of
the elect? God, who has justified them? Who will condemn them? Christ, who has
died and risen again, who is seated at the right hand of God, who intercedes for
us? Impossible! “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall
tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or
sword? For I,” adds Paul, “am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor
angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
We see to what a complete rupture with Judaism Christianity
has reached in the hands of Paul. Jesus has not been so far off assuredly. Jesus
has boldly proclaimed that the reign of the Law is ended, that the worship in
spirit and in truth of God the Father only remains. But, with Jesus, poetry,
sentiment, imagery, and style are essentially Jewish. He continues in a direct
line Isaiah, the psalmists, the prophets of the time of the captivity, the
author of the Song of Songs, and sometimes the author of Ecclesiastes. Paul only
continues Jesus, not as he was by the side of the lake of Gennesareth, but Jesus
such as he conceives him, such as he has seen him in his inner vision. For his
old co-religionists he has only pity. The “perfect” Christian, the
“enlightened” Christian, is in his eyes the one who knows the vanity
of the Law, its uselessness, the frivolity of its pious practices. Paul would
wish to be anathema for his brothers in Israel; it is for him a great sadness, a
continual heartache to dream of this noble race, raised so high in glory, which
had the privilege of adoption, of alliance, of the Law, of the true worship, of
the promises,—which has had patriarchs out of whom Christ has come in the flesh.
But God will not fail in His promises. Even though one is of the seed of Israel,
he is not necessarily a true Israelite; he is heir to the promises by the choice
and calling of God, not by the accident of birth. There is no injustice in that.
Salvation is the result, not of human efforts, but of the mercy of God. God is
free to have mercy on whom He will, and to deal hardly with whom he will. Who
will dare to ask of God the reason for His choice? Can the vessel of clay say
to the potter: Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter the power, with the same lump,
If the Jewish people, moreover, see themselves supplanted, it is their own fault. They have too much confidence in the works of the Law; they believe that they will by these works be justified. The Gentiles, disembarrassed of this stone of stumbling, have entered more easily into the true doctrine of salvation by faith. Israel has sinned by too much zeal for the Law, and by having placed too much reliance upon the personal justification which it acquires by works. Thus it has been made to forget that justification is from God only,—that it is the fruit of grace and not of works; which has made it misunderstand the instrument of that justification which is Jesus.
Has God then cast off his people? No. God, it is true, has
found it good to blind and to harden the greater part of the Jews. But the
corner-stone of the elect has been taken out of the breasts of Israel. Besides,
the perdition of the Hebrew people is not definitive. This perdition has had for
its only object the salvation of the Gentiles and the creation of a salutary
emulation between the two branches of the elect. It is a happiness for the
Gentiles that the Jews had for a time failed in their vocation, since it is
through their fault, and thanks to their weakness, that the Gentiles have been
substituted for them. But if the falling away of the Jewish people, if a moment
of delay on its part has been the salvation of the world, what will be its
introduction in a mass into the Church? This will truly be the resurrection. If
the first-fruits be holy, the whole mass is holy also;
The Apostle, according to his habit, ends by moral applications. The worship of the Christian is the
“Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For
there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God. Whosoever
therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that
resist shall receive to themselves damnation. For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the
This was written in the fourth year of Nero. This prince
had not yet afforded a reason for every subject to curse him. His government had
been the best since the death of Augustus. At the moment when Paul, with much
good sense, took up the defence of the tax against the Jewish theocracy, Nero
softened its rigour, and even sought to apply to it the most radical reforms.
The Christians at this date had not themselves complained of him, and it may
readily be believed that at a time when the Roman authority served his plan
rather than made an obstacle to it, Paul had sought to prevent tumultuous
movements which might lose all, but to which the Jews of Rome were much
inclined. These seditions, the arrests, and the punishments which were its
consequences, threw the new sect into the greatest disfavour, and made the
adepts confound them with thieves and the disturbers of public order. Paul had
too much tact to be a rioter: he wished that credit should be given to the name
of Christian, that a Christian should be a man of order, in good odour with
the police, of good reputation in the eyes of Pagans. This was what made him
write that page, equally singular in the eyes of a Jew and of a Christian. Yet
in it may be seen, however, with a rare simplicity, that there was
The strange situation of the spirits, the persuasion which they held that the end of the world was close at hand, explain for the remainder this haughty indifference.
“And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light. Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in clambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.”
The contest of Paul against his adversaries, who were more
or less Ebionites, can be traced in part in his letter relating to the
abstinence from meats, and to the observance of new moons, of Sabbaths, and of
days. Ebionism, which at this period had its principal centre at Rome, held
greatly to these external practices, which were in truth only a continuation of
The disciples of Paul were occupied for several days in
copying this manifesto, addressed to different Churches. The epistle to the
Churches of Macedonia was written by Tertius. The Macedonians who accompanied
Paul, and the Corinthians who had relations with the Churches of the north of
Greece, profited by the occasion to salute their brethren. The Epistle to
“Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and avoid them. For they that are such serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their own belly; and by good words and fair speeches deceive the hearts of the simple. For your obedience is come abroad unto all men. I am glad, therefore, on your behalf: but yet I would have you wise unto that which is good and simple concerning evil. And the God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen.”
We have seen that St Paul in writing this most important
epistle had intended to send it to the Church of Rome. This Church had reformed
itself since the Edict of Claudius, and much that was good had been said of it.
It was not very numerous, and was chiefly composed of Ebionites and
Judæo-Christians; it also contained in its ranks Proselytes and converted
Pagans. The idea of addressing a dogmatic writing to a Church which he had not
founded, was bold, and altogether contrary to the habit of Paul.
The composition and despatch of the epistle written “to
the Romans” occupied the greatest part of the three months of the
winter, which Paul passed this year at Corinth. They were, in a sense, the best
employed weeks of his life. This epistle became, later on, the summing up of
dogmatic Christianity, the declaration of war by theology against philosophy,
the chief inducement to a class of eager spirits to embrace Christianity as a
means of setting reason at defiance, whilst proclaiming the sublimity and
credibility of the absurd. It is the application of the merits of Christ which
justifies; it is God who works in us to will and to do of His good pleasure.
Here is the overthrow of reason, which, essentially Pelagian, has for its
fundamental dogma, liberty, and the personality of merit. Very well, then, the
doctrine of Paul, opposed to all merely human sense, has been really liberty and
salvation. It has separated Christianity from Judaism; it has separated
Protestantism from Catholicism. Pious observances, persuading the devotee that
by them he is justified, have a double disadvantage: in the first place, they
kill morality by making the devotee believe that there is a sure and
The other practical inconvenience is the multiplication of
scruples. Practices, supposed to have a value by themselves, ex opere operato,
independently of the state of the soul, open the door to all the subtleties of a
meticulous casuist. Legal work becomes a prescription, the success of which
depends upon its punctual execution. Here again Talmudism and Catholicism are
agreed. The despair of the Jewish devotees of the time of Jesus and of St Paul
was the fear of not observing the whole Law—the apprehension of not being in
order. It was believed that the holiest man sins,—that it is impossible not to
prevaricate. They almost regretted that God had given the Law, since it only
served to bring about transgressions; they confessed to the singular idea, that
God had laid down all these laws with the sole purpose of creating sin, and making all the world sinful.
The great torment of delicate souls is scrupulousness: he
who eases them of it is all-powerful over them. One of the most common customs
of devotion amongst the pious sects in England, is to think of Jesus as of him
who disemburdens the conscience, reassures the guilty, calms the sinning soul,
delivers it from the thought of evil. Overwhelmed by the consciousness of sin
and of condemnation, Paul in the same way finds peace in Jesus only. All are
sinners, even to the last, by reason of their descent from Adam. Judaism, by its
sacrifices for sin, had established the idea of accounts as it were opened
between man and God,—of remission and of debts; a false enough idea, for sin
does not remit itself,—it carries its punishment with it; a crime committed will
last until the end of time, only the conscience which has committed it can atone
for it and produce altogether contrary acts. The power of remitting sins was one
of those that they believed to have been conferred by Jesus on his disciples.
The Church had nothing more precious than it. To have committed a crime, to have
a tormented conscience, was a motive to make oneself a Christian. “Here is a
law which delivers you from sin, from which you could not be delivered by the
Law of Moses.” What could be more tempting to the Jews? One of the
reasons which confirmed Constantine in Christianity was, it is said, the belief that
One peculiarity of the Semitic tongues explains such a misunderstanding, and excuses this morally incomplete psychology. The form hiphil signifies at the same time the effective and the declarative, so that hasdik can say equally “to render justice,” and “to declare justice,” to remit a sin which has been committed, and to declare that he has not committed it. “Justice” is, according to this idiom, not only that he who is absolved from a sin, but that he who is calmed in his own eyes, need no more trouble himself with the sins which he may have committed, or with precepts which he may have violated unknown to himself.
When Paul despatched this terrible epistle, he had early
fixed the day of his departure. The gravest anxieties assailed him: he had a
presentiment of grave accidents, and he applied to himself often the verse of
the psalm, “Yea, for thy sake are we killed all the day long; we are counted as
sheep for the slaughter.” Some very precise accounts, which were only
too certain, represented to him the dangers he was likely to meet with from the
Jews of Judæa. He was not even confident as to the disposition of the Church of
Jerusalem. He had found this Church so many times ruled by mean prejudices, that
he feared a cold reception, which, seeing the number of half-confirmed believers
who accompanied him, would produce a disastrous effect. He constantly asked for
the prayers of the faithful, that God would cause his offering to be favourably
received by the saints. To place timid provincial neophytes thus in immediate contact
At the moment when Paul was going to embark for Syria, the reasonableness of his fears became visible. A plot formed by the Jews was discovered to carry him off or kill him during the journey. In order to disconcert this project, Paul privately changed his route, and decided to return by Macedonia. The departure took place about the month of April of the year 58.
Thus ended this third mission, which, in the opinion of Paul, finished the first part of his apostolic projects. All the oriental provinces of the Roman Empire, from its extreme limit towards the east near to Illyria, Egypt always excepted, had heard the Gospel. Not once had the Apostle departed from his rule of preaching only in the countries where Christ had not yet been named, that is to say, where other Apostles had not passed; all his work had been original and belonged to him alone. The third mission had had for its field the same countries as the second; Paul turned a little in the same circle, and began to find himself in the right. He now delayed the accomplishment of the second part of his projects, that is to say, of proclaiming the name of Jesus in the western world, for we may say that the mystery hidden from eternity was known to all nations.
At Rome he had been anticipated, and, moreover,
We shall see that circumstances independent of his will
prevented Paul from realising the second part of the grand plan that he had
proposed to himself. He was from forty-five to forty-eight years of age; he had
certainly still found time and strength to found in this Latin world one or two
of those missions that he had conducted in the Greek world with so much success;
but the fatal journey to Jerusalem upset all his designs. Paul felt the perils
of this journey: everybody around him felt them. He could not, nevertheless,
renounce a project to which he attached much . importance. Jerusalem must lose
Paul. It was one of the most unfavourable of conditions for nascent Christianity
to have its capital in a home of such exalted fanaticism. The incident which, ten years
Paul and the deputies of the Churches set out then from
Cenchrea, having with them the contributions of the faithful for the poor of
Jerusalem, and took their way towards Macedonia This was in some sort the first
pilgrimage to the Holy Land, the first journey of a troop of converted pious
people to the cradle of their faith. It seems that the ship, during a part of
the voyage, was chartered at their expense, and that it obeyed their orders; but
it must have been a simple decked boat. They made fifteen or twenty leagues a
day; each evening they stopped to pass the night amongst the islands or the
ports which bestrew the coast, and slept in the taverns near the shore. There
were often many people there, and amongst the number good men who were not far
from the kingdom of God. The barque, meanwhile, with
We do not know if the Apostle touched at Thessalonica this time; but it is not probable that he did, since it would have been far out of his way. At Neapolis Paul wished to visit the Church of Philippi, which was a very short distance from it. He went forward with his companions, and asked them to wait for him at Troas. As for himself, he went to Philippi, celebrated Easter there, and rested with the persons whom he loved the most in the world, during the seven days in which they ate unleavened bread. At Philippi Paul again found the disciple who, at the time of his second mission, had directed his first steps in Macedonia, and who, most probably, was none other than St Luke. He took him with him again, and thus added to the journey a chronicler who has transmitted to us impressions of it with infinity of charm and of truth.
When the days of unleavened bread were finished, Paul and
Luke re-embarked at Neapolis. They had evidently contrary winds, for they took
five days to go from Neapolis to Troas. In this last town, all the apostolic
company was complete. There was, as we have already said, a Church at Troas;
the Apostle passed seven days with it, and consoled it much. An incident added
to the general emotion. The morning of departure was a Sunday; in the evening
the disciples met together according to custom, to break bread. The room in
which they were was one of those lofty chambers which are so agreeable in the
East, especially in the seaports. The meeting was numerous and solemn. Paul saw
everywhere signs of his future trials. In his sermon he spoke much of his
approaching end, and declared to those present that he bade them an eternal
farewell. This was in the month of May; the window was open, and numerous lamps
lighted the room. Paul spoke all the evening with an
Some hours afterwards the ship set sail. The deputies and
the disciples only were on board, Paul preferring to travel on foot, or at least
by land, from Troas to Assos (about eight leagues). Assos was to be their
meeting-place. From this time forth, Paul and his companions never separated. On
the first day, they went from Assos to Mitylene, where they put in; on the
second, they followed the Straits between Chios and the Peninsula of Clazomenes;
on the third they touched at Samos; but, for a reason which we do not know, Paul
and his companions preferred to pass the night at the anchorage of Trogyle,
under the promontory of the neighbouring Cape, at the foot of Mount Mycala. They
had thus passed before Ephesus without landing there. It was the Apostle who had
wished it: he feared lest the friendship of the faithful of Ephesus might hinder
him, and that he could not tear himself away from a town which was very dear to
him; but he much wished to celebrate Pentecost at Jerusalem, and twenty-three or
“Since the day when I first came into Asia, you know what
I have been for you. You have seen me serve God in humility, in
tears, in temptations, and using all my strength to preach unto the Jews and
Gentiles the return to God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. And now, behold I
go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem. I know not what awaits me; I only know
that, from town to town, the spirit announces to me that bonds and afflictions
wait upon me. But it matters little to me; I am going to sacrifice my life
voluntarily, provided that I finish my course, and that I accomplish the mission
that I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of
God. Oh, you to all of whom I have preached the Kingdom of God, I know that you
will no more see my face; I protest then from this day, that I am innocent of
the loss of those who will perish; for I have never neglected to make known to
you the will of God. Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all the flock
over which the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers; be true pastors of the Church
that the Lord has purchased with his own blood; for I know that after my
departure shall grievous wolves enter in, not sparing the flock. And from the
midst of you shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them.
All then fell on their knees and prayed. Only stifled sobs were heard. The words of Paul, “You will see my face no more,” had pierced them to the heart. The elders of Ephesus in turn approached the Apostle, bent their heads on his neck, and embraced him. They then conducted him to the port, and only left the shore when the ship set sail, taking the Apostle far from that Ægean sea which had been the scene of his contests, and the theatre of his prodigious activity.
A good wind abaft carried the apostolic company from the port of Miletus to Cos. On the morrow they reached Rhodes, and on the third day Patara, upon the coast of Lycia. There they found a ship loading for Tyre. The little coasting that they had done along the coast of Asia had much delayed them, and their journey would have been indefinitely protracted if they were to continue along the coasts of Pamphylia, Cilicia, Syria, and Phœnicia. They therefore preferred to take the shorter route, and, leaving their first ship there, they embarked on that which was about to sail for Phœnicia. The western coast of Cyprus was directly in their way. Paul could see from afar that Neo-Paphos, which he had visited thirteen years before, at the beginning of his apostolic career. He left it upon his left, and after a voyage of probably six or seven days, he arrived at Tyre.
Tyre had a church, dating from the first missions which followed the death of Stephen. Although Paul had had nothing to do with its foundation, he was known and loved there. In the quarrel which divided the rising sect, in that great rent between Judaism and the strange child to which Judaism had given birth, the Church of Tyre was decidedly of the party of the future. Paul was very well received, and passed seven days there. All the faithful of the place dissuaded him strongly from going to Jerusalem, and asserted that they had manifestations of the Spirit absolutely contrary to the plan. But Paul persisted, and chartered a ship for Ptolemais. On the day of his departure, all the faithful, with their wives and children, conducted him out of the town to the shore. The pious company knelt down on the sand and prayed. Paul bade them farewell; the Apostle and his companions re-embarked, and the people of Tyre returned sadly to their homes.
They reached Ptolemais the same day. There also were some brethren; he saluted them and stayed for a day with them. Then the Apostle left the sea. Going round Carmel, he reached in one day Cæsarea in Palestine. They stayed at the house of Philip, one of the seven primitive deacons, who for many years had been settled at Cæsarea. Philip had not taken, like Paul, the title of Apostle, although in reality he had exercised the functions of one. He contented himself with the name of “Evangelist,” which designated apostles of the second rank, with the much more coveted title of “one of the seven.”
Paul found here much sympathy, and remained several days at
Philip’s house. Whilst there, the prophet Agabus arrived from Judæa. Paul and
he had known each other at Antioch fourteen years before. Agabus imitated the
manners of the ancient prophets, and affected to act in a symbolical fashion. He
entered in a mysterious manner, approached Paul,
Paul entered into that fatal town of Jerusalem for the last
time, some days, it seems, after the feast of Pentecost (July 58). His company,
formed of delegates from the Churches of Greece, of Macedonia, and
The first brethren that the new arrivals met on the day of their arrival had welcomed them cordially. But it is already very remarkable that neither the apostles nor the elders came to meet the one man, who, accomplishing the boldest oracles of the prophets, had brought the nations and the far-off isles tributaries to Jerusalem. They waited for his visit with a coldness more politic than Christian, and Paul had to pass alone, with some humble brethren, the first evening of his last stay at Jerusalem.
St James the Great was, as we have already seen, the sole
and absolute head of the Church of Jerusalem. Peter was certainly absent, and very probably established
Paul, accompanied by the deputies of the Churches, went to
see James on the morning after his arrival,
If the elders of Jerusalem had not been narrow-minded in the extreme, how is the strange discourse which the author of the Acts attributes to them, and which betrays all their embarrassment, to be explained? The presentation, in fact, was scarcely complete, when they said to Paul,—“Thou seest, brother, how many thousands of Jews there are which believe; and they are all zealous of the Law: and they are informed of thee that thou teachest all the Jews which are among the Gentiles to forsake Moses, saying that they ought not to circumcise their children, neither to walk after the customs. What is it therefore? From all sides they come to learn of thy arrival. Do therefore this that we say to thee: We have four men which have a vow on them; them take, and purify thyself with them, and be at charges with them, that they may shave their heads: and all may know that those things whereof they were informed concerning thee are nothing, but that thou thyself also walkest orderly, and keepest the Law.”
Thus to him who brought to them the homage of a world,
these narrow souls replied only by a mark of defiance. Paul ought to expiate by
a mummery his prodigious conquests. It was necessary that he should give some
satisfaction to this littleness of mind. He
What was Paul to do, placed thus between his great
principle of the inutility of works, and the immense interest he had in not
breaking with the Church of Jerusalem? His position was cruel. To submit
himself to customs that he held to be useless and almost an insult to
Jesus—since if he had allowed it to be believed that salvation is obtainable by anything
What they asked Paul, besides, was less to shave his head
and become a Nazarite himself, than to pay
Paul then placed himself in the company of the four poor
men. Those who accomplished such vows began by purifying themselves, afterwards
they entered into the temple, remained shut up there for a certain number of
days, according to the vow that they had made—a period of from seven to thirty
days—abstained from wine, and cut off their hair. When the term of days was
reached, they offered sacrifices that were paid for at a sufficiently high
price. Paul submitted himself to all. On the morrow of his visit to James’s
house, he betook himself to the temple, and
Paul was already at the fifth day of his vow, when an incident which was only too easy to foresee decided the remainder of his career, and engaged him in a series of troubles, which he ended only with his death.
During the seven days which had elapsed since his arrival
at Jerusalem, the hate of the Jews against him was terribly exasperated; they
had seen him walk in the town with Trophimus of Ephesus, who was one of the
uncircumcised. Some Jews of Asia, who recognised Trophimus, spread the rumour
that Paul had introduced him into the temple. That was assuredly false, besides
to have done so would have exposed him to certain death. Paul had undoubtedly
not for a moment thought of making his Christians share in the religious
practices of the temple. These practices were for him absolutely barren: their
continuation was almost an insult to the merits of Christ. But religious hate
needs little stimulus when a pretext is wanted for acts of violence. The
populace of Jerusalem were soon persuaded that Paul had committed a crime which
could only be washed out in blood. Like all the great revolutionists, Paul
discerned the impossibility of living. The enmities that he had raised began to
league themselves: the chasm was deepening around him. His companions were
strangers at Jerusalem; the Christians of that city held him for an enemy, and
opposed themselves to him nearly as bitterly as did the fanatical Jews. In
analysing carefully certain features of the account as given in the Acts, in
taking notice of the reiterated warnings which,
Be that as it may, the signal of the riot came from the Jews of Asia who had seen him with Trophimus. They recognised him in the temple whilst he accomplished the proscribed rite with the Nazarites. “Help, help! children of Israel!” cried they. “Here is the man who preaches everywhere against the Jewish people, against the Law, against this holy place. Here is the profaner of the temple—he who has introduced Pagans into the sanctuary.” The whole town was soon in an uproar. A great crowd assembled. The fanatics seized Paul; their resolute intention was to kill him. But to shed blood in the interior of the temple would have been a pollution of the holy place. They dragged Paul then outside the temple, and had scarcely got there when the Levites closed the doors behind him. They took it to be their duty to beat him. Such indeed would have been his fate if the Roman authority, who alone maintained any shadow of order in this chaos, had not intervened to tear him from the hands of the madmen.
The procurator of Judæa, ever since the death of
When they had reached the door of the tower, Paul spoke in Greek to the tribune, and begged him to let him speak to the people. The latter, surprised that the prisoner knew Greek, and recognising at least that he was not the Egyptian false prophet, granted his request. Paul then, standing upon the staircase, made a sign with his hand that he wished to speak. Silence was obtained, and, when they heard him speak Hebrew (that is to say, Syro-Chaldean), they redoubled their attention. Paul recounted, in the form which was habitual to him, the history of his conversion and of his calling. They soon interrupted him; the cries, “Kill him! kill him!” began again; the anger was at its height.
The tribune commanded the prisoner to enter the citadel. He
understood nothing of this affair; though a brutal and mean soldier, he thought
to explain it by torturing him as being the cause of all the trouble. They
seized Paul, and had already tied him upon the post to receive the blows of the
scourge, when he declared to the centurion who presided at the torture that he
was a Roman citizen. The effect of this word was always very great. The
executioners receded; the centurion referred to the tribune; the tribune was
very much surprised. Paul had the appearance of a poor Jew. “Is it true that
thou art a Roman citizen?” Claudius asked him. “Yes.” “But I paid
a large sum to obtain that title.” “But I was free born,” replied
Paul. The stupid Claudius began to be afraid; his poor brain tortured itself to
find any meaning in this business. Outrages against the rights of Roman citizens
were punished very severely. The very fact of having tied Paul to the post with
the view of flagellation was an offence,—an act of violence which would have
remained unknown if it had been done by an obscure man, might now become a very grievous
The high priest was Ananias, son of Nébédés, who by a rare
exception had filled this high office for ten years. He was a man very much
respected, in spite of his gluttonous habits, which were proverbial among the
Jews. Independently of his office, he was one of the first men of the nation;
he belonged to that family of Hanan, which one is sure to find upon the judicial
bench whenever it is a case of condemning the Christians, the popular saints,
the innovators of all kinds. Ananias presided over the assembly. Claudius Lysias
ordered Paul to be released from his chains, and caused him to be brought in: he
himself looking on. The discussion was extremely tumultuous. Ananias flew into a
passion, and, for a word which appeared to him blasphemous, ordered his
assessors to smite Paul upon the mouth. “God shall smite thee, thou whited
wall,” replied Paul, “for sittest thou to judge me after the law, and commandest
me to be smitten contrary to the law?” “What! revilest thou God’s high priest?” said the assistants. Paul, changing his mind, said, “I wist not, brethren,
that he was the high priest, for if I had known I should not have spoken thus;
for it is written, ‘Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people.’”
This moderation was skilfully calculated. Paul had remarked, indeed, that the
assembly was divided into two parties, animated by very diverse sentiments
towards him: the high Sadducee clergy were absolutely hostile to him; but he
could make himself understood to a certain point by the Pharisee middle-class.
“Brethren,” cried he, “I am a Pharisee, the son of a
Pharisee. Do you know why they accuse me? For my hope in the resurrection of
the dead.” It was putting the finger upon an open sore. The Sadducees denied the resurrection, the existence of
Claudius Lysias assisted open-mouthed at this debate, utterly unmeaning as it was for him. He saw the moment when, as on the night before, Paul was about to be torn to pieces. He therefore gave orders to a squadron of soldiers to descend into the hall, to rescue Paul from the hands of those present, and to reconduct him to the tower. Lysias was much embarrassed. Paul, however, rejoiced in the glorious witness that he had just borne to Christ. The following night he had a vision. Jesus appeared to him and said, “Be of good cheer: for as thou hast testified of me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness to me also at Rome.”
The hate of the fanatics, during this time, did not remain
inactive. A certain number of these zealots or hired murderers, always ready to
draw the dagger in defence of the Law, conspired to kill Paul. They bound
themselves by a vow, under the most terrible anathemas, neither to eat nor to
drink whilst Paul remained alive. The conspirators were more than forty in
number; they took their oath on the morning of the day which followed the
assembly of the Sanhedrim. To gain their ends, they went to the priests,
explained to them the plan which they had formed, agreed with them to intervene
with the Sanhedrim to ask the tribune for a new appearance of Paul on the
morrow. The conspirators proposed to seize their opportunity and kill Paul on
the way. But the secret of the plot was ill kept; it came to
From this time Claudius Lysias no longer hesitated. He resolved to send Paul to Cæsarea; on the one hand, to do away with all pretext for disturbances in Jerusalem, and, on the other, to extricate himself by transferring this difficult affair to the procurator. Two centurions received orders to form an escort capable of resisting any attempts at carrying Paul off. It was composed of two hundred soldiers, of seventy cavalry, and of two hundred of those policemen who served at what were called the custodia militaris, that is to say, men who guarded prisoners, fastened to them by means of a chain going from the right hand of the captive to the left hand of his guardian. Horses were also ordered for Paul, and the whole were to be ready by the third hour of the night (nine o’ clock in the evening). Claudius Lysias wrote at the same time to the procurator Felix an elogium, that is to say, a letter, to explain the affair to him, declaring that, for his part, he only saw in all that some trifling questions of religion, without anything that deserved death or imprisonment; that, moreover, he had announced to the accusers that they were also to present themselves before the procurator.
These orders were promptly executed. A forced march was
made in the night, and in the morning the troop reached Antipatris, which is
more than half-way from Jerusalem to Cæsarea. There, all danger of surprise
having disappeared, the escort divided itself: the four hundred infantry, after
a halt, returned to Jerusalem; the detachment of cavalry alone accompanied Paul to Cæsarea. The Apostle thus
Felix then governed Judæa with the powers of a king and
the soul of a slave. He was the freedman of Claudius, and brother of that Pallas
who had made the fortune of Agrippina, and of Nero. He had all the immorality of
his brother, but not his administrative talents. Named, by the influence of
Pallas, procurator of Judæa, in 52, he there showed himself cruel, debauched,
greedy. Nothing was above his ambition. He was successively married to three
queens, and kinsman by marriage of the Emperor Claudius. At the period at which
we are, his wife was Drusilla, sister of Herod Agrippa II., whom he had carried
off by infamous practices from her first husband, Aziz, King of Emesus. There
was no crime of which he was not considered capable; people even went as far as
accusing him of practising brigandage on his own account, and of using the
dagger of the assassin to gratify his hatreds. Such were the men upon whom the
highest functions had devolved since Claudius gave up everything to the
freedmen. They were no longer Roman knights, grave functionaries like Pilate, or
Coponius; they were covetous lackeys, proud, dissolute, profiting by the
political abasement of that poor old Oriental world to gorge themselves
The chief of the squadron who had led Paul away, delivered up to Felix, on his arrival, the elogium and the prisoner. Paul appeared for an instant before the procurator, who asked him of what country he was. The elogium, assigned to the accused a privileged situation. Felix said that he would hear the cause when the accusers should have arrived. Whilst waiting, he commanded that Paul should be guarded, not in the prison, but in the ancient palace of Herod the Great, which had now become the residence of the procurators. At this moment, doubtless, Paul was trusted to a soldier (frumentarius), who was placed over him to guard him and to present him whenever required.
At the end of three days, the Jewish accusers arrived. The high priest Ananias had come in person, accompanied by some elders. Hardly knowing how to speak Greek and Latin, and full of confidence in the official rhetoric of the time, they had taken as an assistant a certain Tertullus, an advocate. The hearing took place immediately. Tertullus, according to the rules of his profession, began by the captatio benevolentiæ. He impudently praised the government of Felix, spoke of the happiness that they enjoyed under his administration, of the public gratitude, and he begged him to listen with his habitual kindness. Then he approached his subject, treated of Paul as a pest, as a disturber of Judaism, as the chief of the heresy of the Nazarenes, as a busybody, ever occupied in exciting sedition amongst his co-religionists throughout the world. He insisted upon the alleged violation of the temple, which constituted a capital crime, and maintained that in seeking to take possession of Paul, they had only wished to judge him according to the Law.
Upon a sign from Felix, Paul then began to speak.
Some days after, Felix and Paul again met. Drusilla, who
was a Jewess, desired, it is said, to hear the Apostle expound the Christian
faith. Paul spoke of justice, of temperance, of judgment to come. The subjects
were not altogether agreeable to these new catechumens. Felix, himself, appears
to have been afraid: “That is enough for the moment,” said he to Paul; “I will
make you come to me at the proper time.” Having learned that Paul had
brought with him a considerable sum of money, he hoped to obtain from him or his
friends a heavy bribe for his release. It appears that he saw him several times,
and he sought to suggest this idea to him. But the
The prison, even with the augmentation of the chain and of the soldier (frumentarius), was far from being then what it is to-day, a total privation of liberty. Every one who had pecuniary resources could arrange with his gaoler, and might attend to his business. In any case, he saw his friends, he was not rigorously confined; in short, he might do pretty much as he pleased. There is no doubt, consequently, that Paul, although a prisoner, continued his apostleship at Cæsarea. Never had he had with him such disciples. Timothy, Luke, Aristarchus of Thessalonica, Tychicus, and Trophimus, carried his orders in all directions, and helped with the correspondence that he kept up with his Churches. In particular, he charged Tychicus and Trophimus with a mission for Ephesus. Trophimus, it appears, fell ill at Miletus.
As a consequence of the stay that they thus made in
Palestine, the most intelligent members of the Churches of Macedonia and of Asia
found themselves in prolonged relations with the Churches of Judæa. Luke, in
particular, who until then had not left Macedonia, was initiated into the
traditions of Jerusalem. He was without doubt vividly impressed by the majesty
of Jerusalem, and he imagined the possibility of a reconciliation between the
principles maintained on the one side by Paul, on the other by the elders of
Jerusalem. He thought that the best thing was to forget reciprocal injuries, to
prudently veil these wrongs, and to speak no more of them. The fundamental ideas
which must preside at the editing of his great manuscript probably
Felix finally succumbed, not under the indignation that his crimes must have produced, but before the difficulties of a situation against which not even a procurator could make head. The life of a Roman governor at Cæsarea had become insupportable; the Jews and the Syrians or Greeks fought incessantly; the most honest man could hardly hold the balance between such ferocious hatreds. The Jews, according to their custom, complained at Rome. They there exercised a sufficiently strong influence, especially with Poppæa, and, thanks to the intrigues which Herod Agrippa II. directed, Pallas had lost much of his credit, above all since the year 55. He could not prevent the disgrace of his brother: he only succeeded in saving him from death. They gave as a successor to Felix a firm and just man, Porcius Festus, who arrived in the month of August of the year 60 at Cæsarea.
Three days after his disembarkation, he betook himself to
Jerusalem. The high priest Ismael, son of Phabi, and all the party of the
Sadducees (that is to say, the high priesthood), surrounded him, and one of the
first demands that they addressed to him was relative to Paul. They wished him
to be brought back to Jerusalem, and they had arranged for an ambuscade to kill
him on the way. Festus replied that he was about shortly to set out for Cæsarea,
that it was consequently better that Paul should remain
But Paul carefully guarded himself from accepting. He was possessed by the desire of seeing Rome. The capital of the world had for him a powerful and mysterious charm. He maintained his right to be judged by a Roman tribunal, protested that no one had any right to deliver him to the Jews, and pronounced the solemn words:—“I appeal unto Cæsar.” These words pronounced by a Roman citizen, did away with all provincial jurisdictions. The citizen, in whatever part of the world he was, had the right of being taken to Rome to be judged. The governors of provinces, moreover, often referred to the Emperor and his council the causes of religious law. Festus, surprised at first by this appeal, conversed for a moment with his assessors, then replied by the formula:—“Hast thou appealed unto Cæsar? unto Cæsar shalt thou go.”
The sending of Paul to Rome was from this time decided, and
they only waited for an opportunity for him to set out. A singular incident occurred in the
On the morrow, then, Agrippa and Bernice came to the
tribunal with a brilliant suite. All the officers of the army, and the chief
people of the town, were present. No official procedure could take place after
the appeal to the Emperor, but Festus declared that, according to his
principles, the sending of a prisoner to Rome must be accompanied by a report.
He pretended to wish for fuller information for the report that he had to make
in this case; he alleged his ignorance of Jewish affairs, and
declared that he wished to follow in this matter the advice of King Agrippa,
Agrippa invited Paul to speak. Paul then made, with a certain oratorical
complacency, one of those discourses that he had repeated a hundred times. He
esteemed himself happy in having to plead his cause before a judge as well
instructed in Jewish questions as was Agrippa. He intrenched himself more
strongly than ever in his ordinary system of defence, asserted that he said
nothing that was not in the Law and the Prophets,—maintained that he was
persecuted only because of his belief in the resurrection, the faith which is that of all the Israelites, which
The effect of this courteous sitting, so different from the audiences in which the Jews figured as prosecutors, was finally favourable to Paul. Festus, with his Roman good sense, declared that this man had done nothing wrong. Agrippa was of opinion that, if he had not appealed to the Emperor about it, they might have released him. Paul, who wished to go to Rome conducted by the Romans themselves, did not withdraw his appeal. They then put him, with some other prisoners, in the guard of a centurion of the cohort prima Augusta Italica, named Julius, who must have been an Italian. Timothy, Luke, and Aristarchus of Thessalonica were the only disciples who travelled with Paul.
The party embarked upon a ship of Adramyttium in Mysia, which was returning thither. At one of the intermediate ports, Julius counted on finding a ship about to sail for Italy, and on taking passage in it. It was about the time of the autumnal equinox, so that they had a rough voyage in prospect.
On the second day they arrived at Sidon. Julius, who treated Paul very kindly, allowed him to go down into the town, to visit his friends and to receive their attentions. The route had been to take the open sea and to gain the south-west point of Asia Minor; but the winds were contrary. It was necessary to run to the north, sailing close to Phœnicia, then to go to the coast of Cyprus, leaving it on the port hand. They followed the channel between Cyprus and Cilicia, traversed the gulf of Pamphylia, and arrived at the port of Myra in Lycia. There they left the Adramyttium ship. Julius having found one of Alexandria which was about to sail for Italy, made a bargain with the captain, and transported his prisoners thither. The ship was very full: there were on board 276 persons.
Navigation from this time was most difficult. After several
days they had only reached Cnidus. The captain wished to enter the port, but the
north-east wind did not allow him, and it was necessary to allow himself to be
carried under the isle of Crete. They soon recognised Cape Salmone, which is the
eastern point of the island. The island of Crete forms an immense barrier,
making of the portion of the Mediterranean that it covers at the south a kind
of large port, sheltered from the tempest coming from the archipelago. The
captain had the very natural idea of profiting by this advantage. He still followed the
When it was a question of setting out again, the season was far advanced. The great fast of the Atonement (Kippour), in the month of Pisri (October), had passed; this fast marked for the Jews the limit after which maritime journeys were not safe. Paul, who had acquired much authority upon the ship, and who, moreover, had had long experience of the sea, gave his opinion. He predicted great dangers and disasters if they re-embarked.
“Nevertheless the centurion” (we cannot be as much surprised by the fact as the narrator of the Acts) “believed the master and the owner of the ship, more than those things which were spoken by Paul.” The port of Kali-Limenes was not a good one to winter in. The general opinion was that they must try, in order to pass the winter months there, to gain the port of Phœnice, situated upon the southern coast of the island, where the men who knew those regions promised good anchorage. A day when there was a breeze from the south they believed to be the favourable one; they weighed anchor, and tacked along the side of the island, as far as Cape Littinos; then they sailed with a fair wind towards Phœnice.
The crew and the passengers believed themselves at the end
of their troubles, when suddenly one of those sudden hurricanes from the east,
that the sailors of the Mediterranean call Euroclydon, smote the island.
On the fourteenth night, indeed, after leaving this
Day at last appeared, and they saw the land. It was
deserted: no one could make out where he was. They had before them a bay, having
at its extremity a sandy beach. They resolved to run aground upon the sand. The
wind was in their favour. They then cut the cables of the anchors, and allowed them to
They soon learnt that they were at Malta. The island,
having submitted to the Romans for a long time, and already much Latinised, was
rich and prosperous. The inhabitants showed themselves humane, and lighted a
large fire for the unfortunate castaways. The latter, indeed, were shivering
with cold, and the rain continued to fall in torrents. A very simple incident,
exaggerated by the disciples of Paul, then took place. In taking a bundle of
sticks to throw into the fire, Paul at the same time took up a viper. They
believed that it had bitten his hand. The idea got into their heads that this
man was a murderer, followed by Nemesis, who not having been able to overtake
him by means of the tempest, had pursued him on land. The men of the country, as
it appears, waited to see him any moment swell and fall dead.
Near the bay in which the ship had got wrecked were the lands of a certain Publius, princeps of the municipality that the island formed with Gaul. This man came to find that the castaways, or at least a party of them, of whom were Paul and his companions, had gathered in his homestead, and he treated them during three days with much hospitality. Here soon happened one of those miracles that the disciples of Paul believed they saw at every instant. The Apostle cured, they say, the father of Publius by the imposition of hands, he suffering from fever and dysentery. His reputation of wonder-worker spread in the island, and they brought to him sick people from all sides. It is not said, however, that he founded a Church there. These low African populations could not raise themselves above their sensuality and gross superstition.
The ancient coasting trade of the Mediterranean came to a standstill during the winter. The frightful voyage that they had just made offered no encouragement to take to the sea again. They remained for three months at Malta, from the 15th of November 60 to the 15th of February 61 or thereabouts. Then Julius negotiated for the passage of his prisoners and of his soldiers upon another Alexandrian ship, the Castor and Pollux, which had wintered in the port of the island. They reached Syracuse, where they remained for three days; then sailed with a fair wind towards the straits, and touched at Rhegium. On the morrow, a good wind blew from the south, and bore the ship in two days to Puteoli.
Puteoli, as we have already said, was the port of Italy
most frequented by the Jews. It was there also that ships from Alexandria
discharged their cargoes. There had been formed there, at the same time as at
Rome, a little Christian society. The Apostle was
Paul had still three years to live, and those three years
were not the least busy of his laborious existence. We shall even see that his
apostolic career had in all probability an extension. But these new journeys he
made in the west, not in the countries which he had already visited. These journeys, if they
In all this history, nevertheless, it is important to avoid
a mistake which the reading of the Epistles of Paul, and the Acts of the
Apostles, almost necessarily produces. One would be tempted from such a reading
to imagine conversions en masse of numerous Churches of entire countries
adopting the new religion. Paul, who often speaks to us of rebellious Jews,
never speaks of the immense majority of Pagans who had no knowledge of the
faith. In reading the journeys of Benjamin of Tudela, one would also believe
that the world of his time was peopled only with Jews. Sects are subject to
these optical illusions; for them, nothing exists besides themselves; the
events which happen amongst them appear to them to be the only events
interesting to the universe. Persons who have had relations with ancient St
Simonians are struck with the facility with which they consider themselves the
centre of humanity. The first Christians lived so shut up in their own (little) circle, that they knew
One man contributed more than any other to the rapid extension of Christianity. That man has torn up the swaddling clothes so narrow and so prodigiously dangerous by which he was surrounded from his birth; he has proclaimed that Christianity was not a simple reform of Judaism, but that it was a complete religion, existing by itself. To say that he deserves to be placed in a very elevated rank in history, is to say what is self-evident; but it is not necessary to call him a founder. Paul well said that he was the least of the Apostles. He had not seen Jesus, he had not heard His voice. The divine logic, the parables, he scarcely knew. The Christ who personally revealed himself to him is his own ghost; he listens to himself, thinking that he hears Jesus.
Even to speak only of his exterior character, Paul must
have been in his lifetime less important than we think him. His Churches were
either not very solid, or else they denied him altogether. The Churches of
Macedonia and of Galatia, which are truly his own work, were not very important
in the second and third century. The Churches of Corinth and of Ephesus, which
were not so exclusively his, went over to his enemies, or are not founded
canonically enough if they have been founded only by him.
In the third, fourth, and fifth centuries Paul will grow singularly: He will become the doctor in an eminent degree, the founder of Christian theology The true president of those great Greek Councils, which made of Jesus the keystone of metaphysics, was the Apostle Paul.
But in the Middle Ages, everywhere in the west, his fortune
will undergo a strange eclipse. Paul will scarcely say anything to the heart of
the barbarians; out of Rome, he will not be remembered. Latin Christianity will
scarcely pronounce his name, except as coupled with that of his rival. St Paul,
in the Middle Ages, is in some sort lost in the glory of St Peter. Whilst St
Peter moved the world and made it tremble and obey, the obscure St Pou plays a
secondary part in the grand Christian poesy which fills cathedrals and inspires
popular chants. Scarcely anybody before the sixteenth century utters his name;
he scarcely appears in monumental inscriptions; he
The Reformation opens for St Paul a new era of glory and authority. Catholicism itself returns, by studies more extended than those of the Middle Ages, to juster views upon the Apostle of the Gentiles. From the sixteenth century, the name of Paul is everywhere. But the Reformation, which has rendered so many services to science and reason, has not been known to create a legend. Rome, throwing an obliging veil upon the rudenesses of the Epistle to the Galatians, elevates Paul upon a pedestal nearly equal to that of Peter. Paul nevertheless does not become the saint of the people. What place will criticism give to him? What rank will be assigned to him in the hierarchy of those who serve the ideal.
The ideal is served by doing good, by discovering the true,
by realising the beautiful. At the head of the sacred procession of humanity
walks the good man, the virtuous man; the second rank belongs to the man of
truth, knowledge, philosophy; then comes the man of beauty, the artist, the
poet. Jesus appears to us, under his celestial halo, as an ideal of goodness and
beauty. Peter loved Jesus, understood him, and
He was eminently a man of action, a strong soul—invading,
enthusiastic, conquering—a missionary, a propagator, all the more ardent because
he had at first displayed his fanaticism on the opposite side. Now, the man of
action, noble as he is when he acts for a noble aim, is less near to God than
one who has lived for the pure love of truth, of the good and the beautiful. The
Apostle is naturally rather narrow-minded; he wished to succeed, he made
sacrifices for that end. Contact with reality always soils one a little. The
first places in the kingdom of heaven are reserved to those whom a ray of grace
has touched, to those who have only adored the ideal. The man of action is
always- a feeble artist, for he has not for his only aim that of reflecting the
splendour of the universe. He could not be a scholar, for he regulates his
opinions on grounds of political utility; he is not even a very virtuous man,
for he is never irreproachable, the folly and wickedness of men forcing him to
make a compact with them. Above all things, he is not amiable; the most
charming of virtues, reserve, is forbidden to him. The world favours the
daring, those who help themselves
I still persist in maintaining, that in the creation of
Christianity the part of Paul ought to be treated as much inferior to that of
Jesus. It is necessary even, according to my idea, to put Paul on a lower plane
than Francis of Assisi, and the author of the “Imitation,” who both saw Jesus
very nearly. The Son of God is unique. To appear for a moment to make a sweet
and profound impression, to die very young, that is the life of a god. To
wrestle, to dispute, to conquer, that is the life of a man. After having been
for three hundred years the Christian doctor in an eminent degree, thanks to
orthodox Protestantism, Paul seems in our days near the end of his reign: Jesus,
on the contrary, is more living than ever. It is no more the Epistle to the
Romans which is the recapitulation of Christianity, it is the Sermon on the
Mount. True Christianity which will last eternally comes from the Gospels, not
from the Epistles of Paul. The writings of Paul have been a danger and a
stumbling-block, the cause of the chief faults of Christian theology. Paul is
the father of the subtle Augustine, of the arid Thomas Aquinas, of the sombre
Calvinist, of the bitter Jansenist, of the ferocious theology which condemns and
predestinates to damnation. Jesus is the father of all those who seek in dreams
of the ideal the repose of their souls. That which gives life to Christianity,
is the little that we know of the word and of the person of Jesus. The man
devoted to the ideal, the
Humanity, thou art sometimes just, and certain of thy judgments are good!
COLSTON AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
Acts
13:46 14:27-28 17:22-31 19:8 19:10 19:21 19:22 20:1 20:1 20:3 20:4 20:16 20:25 20:29 20:31 24:27
Romans
1:7 1:15 12:1-21 14:1-2 14:1-23 14:3-16 14:3-16 14:3-20 14:17-20 14:21-24 14:24 15:1-3 15:1-3 15:1-13 15:1-13 15:8 15:14-33 15:19 15:33 15:33 15:33 16:1-2 16:2 16:3 16:3-20 16:5 16:20 16:21-24 16:24 16:24 16:25-27 16:25-27 16:27 16:40
1 Corinthians
2 Corinthians
1:1 2:1 6:14 8:1 8:1 11:23-27 12:14 12:21
Galatians
Ephesians
Colossians
2 Thessalonians
1 Timothy
1:3 1:3 1:3 1:3 1:3 1:3 1:3 1:3 1:20 3:14 3:14 3:16 4:13 6:13
2 Timothy
1:8 1:12 1:15 1:15-18 1:16 1:16-18 1:16-18 1:17 2:9-10 2:17 2:17 3:10-11 4:6-8 4:9 4:9-22 4:10 4:10 4:10 4:10-11 4:11 4:11 4:12 4:12 4:13 4:13 4:14-15 4:14-15 4:16 4:17 4:17-18 4:19 4:19-21 4:19-21 4:20 4:20 4:20 4:21 4:21 17 18
Titus
1:5 1:5 1:5-6 1:6 1:10 1:12-13 1:12-13 3:12 3:13
Philemon
Hebrews
vii iv vii viii ix x xi xii xiii xiv xv xvi xvii xviii xix xx xxi xxii xxiii xxiv xxv xxvi xxvii xxviii xxix xxx xxxi 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303