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II. The way in which the Word of God is ignored in these Epistles argues strongly for their spuriousness. Every one acquainted with the early fathers must have observed their frequent use of the sacred records. A considerable portion of a chapter is sometimes introduced in a quotation. [416:1] Hence it has been remarked that were all the copies of the Bible lost and the writings of these fathers preserved, a large share of the Holy Volume might thus be recovered. But Ignatius would contribute nothing to the work of restoration; as, in the whole of the three letters, not a single verse of Scripture is given at length. They, no doubt, occasionally use Bible phraseology, as without it an ecclesiastical document could not well be written; but not one promise is quoted, and not one testimony from the Word is repeated for the edification of the faithful. [416:2] An apostolical pastor on his way to martyrdom would have written very differently. He would have reminded his brethren of the "lively oracles," and he would have mentioned some of those precious assurances which now contributed to his own spiritual refreshment. He would have told them to have "no confidence in the flesh;" [416:3] to take unto themselves "the sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God;" [416:4] and to lay aside every weight and the sin which did so easily beset them, "looking unto Jesus." [416:5] But, instead of adopting such a course, this Ignatius addresses them in the style of a starched and straitlaced churchman. "Let your treasures," says he, "be your good works. Let your baptism be to you as armory." "Look to the bishop that God also may look upon you. I will be instead of the souls of those who are subject to the bishop, and the presbyters and the deacons." [416:6] What intelligent Christian can believe that a minister, instructed by Paul or Peter, and filling one of the most important stations in the apostolic Church, was verily such an ignorant driveller?
III. The chronological blunders in these Epistles betray their forgery. In the "Acts of the Martyrdom of Ignatius," he and Polycarp are represented as "fellow-scholars" of the Apostle John, [417:1] and the pastor of Smyrna is supposed to be, in point of age, at least as venerable a personage as the pastor of Antioch. The letter to Polycarp is evidently written under the same impression. Ignatius there says to him—"I praise God that I have been deemed worthy of thy countenance, which in God I long after." When these words are supposed to have been penned, Polycarp was only about six and twenty years of age; [417:2] and the Church of Smyrna, with which he was connected, did not occupy a very prominent place in the Christian commonwealth. Is it probable that a man of the mature faith and large experience of Ignatius would have thus addressed so youthful a minister? It also seems passing strange that the aged martyr should commit all the widows of the community to his special guardianship, and should think it necessary to add—"It is becoming to men and women who marry, that they marry by the counsel of the bishop." Was an individual, who was himself not much advanced beyond boyhood, the most fitting person to give advice as to these matrimonial engagements? A similar mistake as to age is made in the case of Onesimus, who is supposed to be bishop of Ephesus. This minister, who is understood to be mentioned in the New Testament. [417:3] is said at an early date to have been pastor of the Church of the metropolis of the Proconsular Asia; and the Ignatian forger obviously imagined that he was still alive when his hero passed through Smyrna on his way to the Western capital. But Onesimus perished in the Domitian persecution, [418:1] so that Ignatius is made to write to a Christian brother who had been long in his grave. [418:2] The fabricator proceeds more cautiously in his letter to the Romans. How marvellous that this old gentleman, who is willing to pledge his soul for every one who would submit to the bishop, does not find it convenient to name the bishop of Rome! The experiment might have been somewhat hazardous. The early history of the Roman Church was better known than that of any other in the world, and, had he here made a mistake, the whole cheat might have been at once detected. Though his erudition was so great that he could tell "the places of angels," [418:3] he evidently did not dare to commit himself by giving us a piece of earthly information, and by telling us who was at the head of the Church of the Great City in the ninth year of the reign of Trajan. But the same prudence does not prevail throughout the Epistle. He here obviously speaks of the Church of Rome, not as she existed a few years after the death of Clement, but of the same Church as she was known after the death of Victor. In the beginning of the second century the Church of the Syrian capital would not have acknowledged the precedence of her Western sister. On the fall of Jerusalem, the Church of Antioch was herself the first Christian community in the Empire. She had a higher antiquity, a more distinguished prestige, and perhaps a more numerous membership than any other Church in existence. In the Syrian metropolis the disciples had first been called Christians; there, Barnabas and Paul had been separated to the work to which the Lord had called them; there, Peter had preached; and there, prophets had laboured. But a century had brought about a wonderful change. The Church of Rome had meanwhile obtained the first place among Christian societies; and, before the middle of the third century, "the See of Peter" was honoured as the centre of catholic unity. Towards the close of the second century, many persons of rank and power joined her communion, [419:1] and her political influence was soon felt to be so formidable that even the Roman Emperor began to be jealous of the Roman bishop. [419:2] But the Ignatian forger did not take into account this ecclesiastical revolution. Hence he here incautiously speaks in the language of his own age, and writing "to her who sitteth at the head in the place of the country of the Romans," he says to her with all due humility—"I am not commanding you like Peter and Paul" [419:3]—"Ye have taught others"—"It is easy for you to do whatsoever you please."
IV. Various words in these Epistles have a meaning which they did not acquire until long after the time of Ignatius. Thus, the term employed in the days of the Apostles to denote purity, or chastity, here signifies celibacy. [419:4] Even in the commencement of the third century those who led a single life were beginning to be considered Christians of a superior type, as contrasted with those who were married; and clerical celibacy was becoming very fashionable. [420:1] The Ignatian fabricator writes under the influence of the popular sentiment. "The house of the Church" at Antioch, of which Paul of Samosata kept possession after his deposition about A.D. 269, [420:2] seems to have been a dwelling appropriated to the use of the ecclesiastical functionaries, [420:3] and the schemer who wrote the first draft of these letters evidently believed that the ministers of Christ should be a brotherhood of bachelors. Hence Ignatius is made thus to address Polycarp and his clergy—"Labour together one with another; make the struggle together one with another; run together one with another; suffer together one with another; sleep together one with another; rise together one with another." Polycarp and others of the elders of Smyrna were probably married; [420:4] so that some inconvenience might have attended this arrangement.
The word bishop is another term found in these Epistles, and employed in a sense which it did not possess at the alleged date of their publication. Every one knows that, in the New Testament, it does not signify the chief pastor of a Church; but, about the middle of the second century, as will subsequently appear, [421:1] it began to have this acceptation. Clement of Rome, writing a few years before the time of the martyrdom of Ignatius, uses the words bishop and presbyter interchangeably. [421:2] Polycarp, in his own Epistle, dictated, perhaps, forty years after the death of the Syrian pastor, still adheres to the same phraseology. In the Peshito version of the New Testament, executed probably in the former half of the second century, [421:3] the same terminology prevails. [421:4] Ignatius, however, is far in advance of his generation. When new terms are introduced, or when new meanings are attached to designations already current, it seldom happens that an old man changes his style of speaking. He is apt to persevere, in spite of fashion, in the use of the phraseology to which he has been accustomed from his childhood. But Ignatius is an exception to all such experience, for he repeats the new nomenclature with as much flippancy as if he had never heard any other. [421:5] Surely this minister of Antioch must be worthy of all the celebrity he has attained, for he can not only carry on a written correspondence with the dead, but also anticipate by half a century even the progress of language!
V. The puerilities, vapouring, and mysticism of these letters proclaim their forgery. We would expect an aged apostolic minister, on his way to martyrdom, to speak as a man in earnest, to express himself with some degree of dignity, and to eschew trivial and ridiculous comparisons. But, when treating of a grave subject, what can be more silly or indecorous than such language as the following—"Ye are raised on high by the engine of Jesus Christ, which is the cross, and ye are drawn by the rope, which is the Holy Ghost, and your pulley is your faith." [422:1] Well may the Christian reader exclaim, with indignation, as he peruses these words, Is the Holy Ghost then a mere rope? Is that glorious Being who worketh in us to will and to do according to His own good pleasure, a mere piece of tackling pertaining to the ecclesiastical machinery, to be moved and managed according to the dictation of Bishop Ignatius? [422:2] But the frivolity of this impostor is equalled by his gasconade. He thus tantalises the Romans with an account of his attainments—"I am able to write to you heavenly things, but I fear lest I should do you an injury." .....
"I am able to know heavenly things, and the places of angels, and the station of powers that are visible and invisible." Where did he gather all this recondite lore? Certainly not from the Old or New Testament. May we not safely pronounce this man to be one who seeks to be wise above what is written, "intruding into those things which he hath not seen, vainly puffed up by his fleshly mind?" [422:3] He seems, indeed, to have himself had some suspicion that such was his character, for he says, again, to his brethren of the Western metropolis—"I know many things in God, but I moderate myself that I may not perish through boasting; for now it is becoming to me that I should fear the more abundantly, and should not look to those that puff me up." Let us now hear a specimen of the mysticism of this dotard. "There was hidden from the Ruler of this world the virginity of Mary, and the birth of our Lord, and the three mysteries of the shout, which were done in the quietness of God by means of the star, and here by the manifestation of the Son magic began to be dissolved." [423:1] Who can undertake to expound such jargon? What are we to understand by "the quietness of God?" Who can tell how "the three mysteries of the shout" were "done by means of the star?"
VI. The unhallowed and insane anxiety for martyrdom which appears throughout these letters is another decisive proof of their fabrication. He who was, in the highest sense, the Faithful Witness betrayed no fanatic impatience for the horrid tragedy of crucifixion; and, true to the promptings of his human nature, he prayed, in the very crisis of His agony—"O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." [423:2] The Scriptures represent the most exalted saints as shrinking instinctively from suffering. In the prophecy announcing the violent death of Peter, it is intimated that even the intrepid apostle of the circumcision would feel disposed to recoil from the bloody ordeal. "When thou shalt be old," said our Lord to him, "thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not." [423:3] Paul mentions with thankfulness how, on a critical occasion, the Lord stood with him, and "delivered" him "out of the mouth of the lion." [423:4] Long after the apostolic age, the same spirit continued to be cherished, and hence we are told of Polycarp that, even when bowed down by the weight of years, he felt it right to retire out of the way of those who sought his destruction. The disciples, whom he had so long taught, took the same view of Christian duty; and accordingly, in the Epistle of the Church of Smyrna, which records his martyrdom, the conduct of those who "present themselves of their own accord to the trial" is emphatically condemned. [424:1] "We do not," say the believers of Smyrna, "commend those who offer themselves to persecution, seeing the gospel teaches no such thing." [424:2] But a man who is supposed to have enjoyed far higher advantages than Polycarp—a minister who is said to have been contemporary with all the apostles—a ruler of the Church who is understood to have occupied a far more prominent and influential position than the pastor of Smyrna—is exhibited in the legend of his martyrdom as appearing "of his own free will" [424:3] at the judgment-seat of the Emperor, and as manifesting the utmost anxiety to be delivered into the mouth of the lion. In the commencement of the second century the Churches of Rome and Ephesus doubtless possessed as much spiritual enlightenment as any other Churches in the world, and it is a libel upon their Christianity to suppose that they could have listened with any measure of complacency to the senseless ravings to be found even in the recent edition of the Ignatian Letters. [424:4] The writer is made to assure the believers in these great cities that he has an unquenchable desire to be eaten alive, and he beseeches them to pray that he may enjoy this singular gratification. "I hope," says he, "through your prayers that I shall be devoured by the beasts in Rome." [425:1] ... "I beg of you, be not with me in the love that is not in its season. Leave me, that I may be for the beasts, that by means of them I may be worthy of God.... With provoking provoke ye the beasts that they may be a grave for me, and may leave nothing of my body, that not even when I am fallen asleep may I be a burden upon any man.... I rejoice in the beasts which are prepared for me, and I pray that they may be quickly found for me, and I will provoke them that they may quickly devour me." [425:2] Every man jealous for the honour of primitive Christianity should be slow to believe that an apostolic preacher addressed such outrageous folly to apostolic Churches.
When reviewing the external evidence in support of these Epistles, we have had occasion to shew that they were probably fabricated in the former part of the third century. The internal evidence corroborates the same conclusion. Ecclesiastical history attests that during the fifty years preceding the death of Cyprian, [425:3] the principles here put forward were fast gaining the ascendency. As early as the days of Tertullian, ritualism was rapidly supplanting the freedom of evangelical worship; baptism was beginning to be viewed as an "armour" of marvellous potency; [425:4] the tradition that the great Church of the West had been founded by Peter and Paul was now extensively propagated; and there was an increasing disposition throughout the Empire to recognise the precedence of "her who sitteth at the head in the place of the country of the Romans." It is apparent from the writings of Cyprian that in some quarters the "church system" was already matured. The language ascribed to Ignatius—"Be careful for unanimity, than which there is nothing more excellent" [426:1]—then expressed a prevailing sentiment. To maintain unity was considered a higher duty than to uphold truth, and to be subject to the bishop was deemed one of the greatest of evangelical virtues. Celibacy was then confounded with chastity, and mysticism was extensively occupying the place of scriptural knowledge and intelligent conviction. And the admiration of martyrdom which presents itself in such a startling form in these Epistles was one of the characteristics of the period. Paul taught that a man may give his body to be burned and yet want the spirit of the gospel; [426:2] but Origen does not scruple to describe martyrdom as "the cup of salvation," the baptism which cleanses the sufferer, the act which makes his blood precious in God's sight to the redemption of others. [426:3] Do not all these circumstances combined supply abundant proof that these Epistles were written in the time of this Alexandrian father? [426:4]
It is truly wonderful that men, such as Dr Cureton, have permitted themselves to be befooled by these Syriac manuscripts. It is still more extraordinary that writers, such as the pious and amiable Milner, [426:5] have published, with all gravity, the rhapsodies of Ignatius for the edification of their readers. It would almost appear as if the name Bishop has such a magic influence on some honest and enlightened Episcopalians, that when the interests of their denomination are supposed to be concerned, they can be induced to close their eyes against the plainest dictates of common sense and the clearest light of historical demonstration. In deciding upon matters of fact the spirit of party should never be permitted to interfere. Truth is the common property of the catholic Church; and no good and holy cause can require the support of an apocryphal correspondence.
It is no mean proof of the sagacity of the great Calvin, that, upwards of three hundred years ago, he passed a sweeping sentence of condemnation on these Ignatian Epistles. At the time, many were startled by the boldness of his language, and it was thought that he was somewhat precipitate in pronouncing such a decisive judgment. But he saw distinctly, and he therefore spoke fearlessly. There is a far more intimate connexion than many are disposed to believe between sound theology and sound criticism, for a right knowledge of the Word of God strengthens the intellectual vision, and assists in the detection of error wherever it may reveal itself. Had Pearson enjoyed the same clear views of gospel truth as the Reformer of Geneva, he would not have wasted so many precious years in writing a learned vindication of the nonsense attributed to Ignatius. Calvin knew that an apostolic man must have been acquainted with apostolic doctrine, and he saw that these letters must have been the productions of an age when the pure light of Christianity was greatly obscured. Hence he denounced them so emphatically: and time has verified his deliverance. His language respecting them has been often quoted, but we feel we cannot more appropriately close our observations on this subject than by another repetition of it. "There is nothing more abominable than that trash which is in circulation under the name of Ignatius." [428:1]
CHAPTER IV.
THE GNOSTICS, THE MONTANISTS, AND THE MANICHAEANS.
When Christianity made its appearance in the world, it produced a profound sensation. It spread on all sides with great rapidity; it was at once felt to be a religion for the common people; and some individuals of highly cultivated minds soon acknowledged its authority. For a time its progress was impeded by the persecutions of Nero and Domitian; but, about the beginning of the second century, it started upon a new career of prosperous advancement, and quickly acquired such a position that the most distinguished scholars and philosophers could no longer overlook its pretensions. In the reigns of Trajan and Hadrian, a considerable number of men of learning were already in its ranks; but it would appear that, on the whole, it derived very equivocal aid from the presence of these new adherents. Not a few of the literati who joined its standard attempted to corrupt it; and one hundred and twenty years after the death of the Apostle John, the champions of orthodoxy had to contend against no less than thirty-two heresies. [429:1]
Of those who now adulterated the gospel, the Gnostics were by far the most subtle, the most active, and the most formidable. The leaders of the party were all men of education; and as they were to be found chiefly in the large cities, the Church in these centres of influence was in no small degree embarrassed and endangered by their speculations. Some of the peculiarities of Gnosticism have been already noticed; [430:1] but as the second century was the period when it made most progress and awakened most anxiety, we must here advert more distinctly to its outlines. The three great antagonists of the gospel were the Grecian philosophy, the heathen mythology, and a degenerate Judaism; and Gnosticism may be described as an attempt to effect a compromise between Christianity and these rivals. As might have been expected, the attempt met with much encouragement; for many, who hesitated to accept the new religion unconditionally, were constrained to acknowledge that it exhibited many indications of truth and divinity; and they were, therefore, prepared to look on it with favour when presented to them in an altered shape and furnished with certain favourite appendages. The Gnostics called themselves believers; and their most celebrated teachers would willingly have remained in the bosom of the Church; but it soon appeared that their principles were subversive of the New Testament revelation; and they were accordingly excluded from ecclesiastical fellowship.
Gnosticism assumed a variety of forms, and almost every one of its teachers had his own distinctive creed; but, as a system, it was always known by certain remarkable features. It uniformly ignored the doctrine that God made all things out of nothing; [430:2] and, taking for granted the eternity of matter, it tried to account, on philosophical principles, for the moral and spiritual phenomena of the world which we inhabit. The Gnosis, [430:3] or knowledge, which it supplied, and from which it derived its designation, was a strange congeries of wild speculations. The Scriptures describe the Most High as humbling Himself to behold the things that are on earth, [431:1] as exercising a constant providence over all His creatures, as decking the lilies of the valley, and as numbering the very hairs of our heads; but Gnosticism exhibited the Supreme God as separated by an immeasurable interval from matter, and as having no direct communication with anything thus contaminated. The theory by means of which many of its adherents endeavoured to solve the problem of the origin of evil, [431:2] and to trace the connexion between the finite and the infinite, was not without ingenuity. They maintained that a series of Aeons, or divine beings, emanated from the Primal Essence; but, as sound issuing from a given point gradually becomes fainter until it is finally lost in silence, each generation of Aeons, as it receded from the great Fountain of Spiritual Existence, lost somewhat of the vigour of divinity; and at length an Aeon was produced without power sufficient to maintain its place in the Pleroma, or habitation of the Godhead. This scheme of a series of Aeons of gradually decreasing excellence was apparently designed to shew how, from an Almighty and Perfect Intelligence, a weak and erring being might be generated. There were Gnostics who carried the principle of attenuation so far as to teach that the inhabitants of the celestial world were distributed into no less than three hundred and sixty-five heavens, [431:3] each somewhat inferior to the other. According to some of these systems, an Aeon removed by many emanations from the source of Deity, and, in consequence, possessed of comparatively little strength, passed over the bounds of the Pleroma, and imparted life to matter. Another Power, called the Demiurge, was now produced, who, out of the materials already in existence, fashioned the present world. The human race, ushered, under such circumstances, upon the stage of time, are ignorant of the true God, and in bondage to corrupt matter. But all men are not in a state of equal degradation. Some possess a spiritual nature; some, a physical or animal nature; and some, only a corporeal or carnal nature. Jesus now appeared, and, at His baptism in the Jordan, Christ, a powerful Aeon, joined Him, that He might be fitted for redeeming souls from the ignorance and slavery in which they are entangled. This Saviour taught the human family the knowledge of the true God. Jesus was seized and led to crucifixion, and the Aeon Christ now departed from Him; but, as His body was composed of the finest ethereal elements, and was, in fact, a phantom, He did not really suffer on the accursed tree. Many of the Gnostics taught that there are two spheres of future enjoyment. They held that, whilst the spiritual natures shall be restored to the Pleroma, the physical or animal natures shall be admitted to an inferior state of happiness; and that such souls as are found to be incapable of purification shall be consigned to perdition or annihilation.
Whilst, according to all the Gnostics, the Demiurge, or maker of this world, is far inferior to the Supreme Deity, these system-builders were by no means agreed as to his position and his functions. Some of them regarded him as an Aeon of inferior intelligence who acted in obedience to the will of the Great God; others conceived that he was no other than the God of the Jews, who, in their estimation, was a Being of somewhat rugged and intractable character; whilst others contended that he was an Evil Power at open war with the righteous Sovereign of the universe. The Gnostics also differed in their views respecting matter. Those of them who were Egyptians, and who had been addicted to the study of the Platonic philosophy, held matter to be inert until impregnated with life; but the Syrians, who borrowed much from the Oriental theology, taught that it was eternally subject to a Lord, or Ruler, who had been perpetually at variance with the Great God of the Pleroma.
Two of the most distinguished Gnostic teachers who flourished in the early part of the second century were Saturninus of Antioch and Basilides of Alexandria. [433:1] Valentine, who appeared somewhat later, and who is supposed to have first excited attention at Rome about A.D. 140, was still more celebrated. He taught that in the Pleroma there are fifteen male and fifteen female Aeons, whom he professed to distinguish by their names; and he even proceeded to point out how they are distributed into married pairs. Some have supposed that certain deep philosophical truths were here concealed by him under the veil of allegory. As he, like others of the same class, conveyed parts of his Gnosis only into the ears of the initiated, it may be that the explanation of its symbols was reserved for those who were thus made acquainted with its secret wisdom. It has been alleged that he personified the attributes of God, and that the Aeons, whom he names and joins together, are simply those divine perfections which, when combined, are fitted to produce the most remarkable results. Thus, he associated Profundity and Thought, Intelligence and Truth, Reason and Life. [433:2] His system seems to have had many attractions for his age, as his disciples, in considerable numbers, were soon to be found both in the East and in the West.
When Valentine was at Rome, Marcion, another heresiarch of the same class, was also in the great metropolis. [433:3] This man is said to have been born in Pontus, and though some of the fathers have attempted to fix a stain upon his early reputation, his subsequent character seems to have been irreproachable. [434:1] There is reason to think that he was one of the most upright and amiable of the Gnostics. These errorists were charged by their orthodox antagonists with gross immorality; and there was often, perhaps, too much ground for the accusation; for some of them, such as Carpocrates, [434:2] avowed and encouraged the most shameless licentiousness; but others, such as Marcion, were noted for their ascetic strictness. All the more respectable Gnostics appear to have recommended themselves to public confidence by the austerity of their discipline. They enjoined rigorous fasting, and inculcated abstinence from wine, flesh-meat, and marriage. The Oriental theology, as well as the Platonic philosophy, sanctioned such a mode of living; and, therefore, those by whom it was practised were in a favourable position for gaining the public ear when they came forward as theological instructors.
Gnosticism may appear to us a most fantastic system; but, in the second century, it was dreaded as a very formidable adversary by the Church; and the extent to which it spread attests that it possessed not a few of the elements of popularity. Its doctrine of Aeons, or Divine Emanations, was quite in accordance with theories which had then gained extensive currency; and its account of the formation of the present world was countenanced by established modes of thinking. Many who cherished a hereditary prejudice against Judaism were gratified by the announcement that the Demiurge was no other than the God of the Israelites; and many more were flattered by the statement that some souls are essentially purer and better than others. [435:1] The age was sunk in sensuality; and, as it was the great boast of the heresiarchs that their Gnosis secured freedom from the dominion of the flesh, multitudes, who secretly sighed for deliverance, were thus induced to test its efficacy. But Gnosticism, in whatever form it presented itself, was a miserable perversion of the gospel. Some of its teachers entirely rejected the Old Testament; others reduced its history to a myth; whilst all mutilated and misinterpreted the writings of the apostles and evangelists. Like the Jewish Cabbalists, who made void the law of God by expositions which fancy suggested and tradition embalmed, the Gnostics by their far-fetched and unnatural comments, threw an air of obscurity over the plainest passages of the New Testament. Some of them, aware that they could derive no support from the inspired records, actually fabricated Gospels, and affixed to them the names of apostles or evangelists, in the hope of thus obtaining credit for the spurious documents. [435:2] Whilst Gnosticism in this way set aside the authority of the Word of God, it also lowered the dignity of the Saviour; and even when Christ was most favourably represented by it, He was but an Aeon removed at the distance of several intermediate generations from the Supreme Ruler of the universe. The propagators of this system altogether misconceived the scope of the gospel dispensation. They substituted salvation by carnal ordinances for salvation by faith; they represented man in his natural state rather as an ignoramus than a sinner; and, whilst they absurdly magnified their own Gnosis, they entirely discarded the doctrine of a vicarious atonement.
Shortly after the middle of the second century the Church began to be troubled by a heresy in some respects very different from Gnosticism. At that time the persecuting spirit displayed by Marcus Aurelius filled the Christians throughout the Empire with alarm, and those of them who were given to despondency began to entertain the most gloomy anticipations. An individual, named Montanus, who laid claim to prophetic endowments, now appeared in a village on the borders of Phrygia; and though he seems to have possessed a rather mean capacity, his discipline was so suited to the taste of many, and the predictions which he uttered so accorded with prevailing apprehensions, that he soon created a deep impression. When he first came forward in the character of a Divine Instructor he had been recently converted to Christianity; and he seems to have strangely misapprehended the nature of the gospel. When he delivered his pretended communications from heaven, he is said to have wrought himself up into a state of frenzied excitement. His countrymen, who had been accustomed to witness the ecstasies of the priests of Bacchus and Cybele, saw proofs of a divine impulse in his bodily contortions; and some of them at once acknowledged his extraordinary mission. By means of two wealthy female associates, named Priscilla and Maximilla, who also professed to utter prophecies, Montanus was enabled rapidly to extend his influence. His fame spread abroad on all sides; and, in a few years, he had followers in Europe and in Africa, as well as in Asia.
It cannot be said that this heresiarch attempted to overturn the creed of the Church. He was neither a profound thinker nor a logical reasoner; and he certainly had not maturely studied the science of theology. But he possessed an ardent temperament, and he seems to have mistaken the suggestions of his own fanaticism for the dictates of inspiration. The doctrine of the personal reign of Christ during the millennium appears to have formed a prominent topic in his ministrations. [437:1] He maintained that the discipline of the Church had been left incomplete by the apostles, and that he was empowered to supply a better code of regulations. According to some he proclaimed himself the Paraclete; but, if so, he most grievously belied his assumed name, for his system was far better fitted to induce despondency than to inspire comfort. All his precepts were conceived in the sour and contracted spirit of mere ritualism. He insisted upon long fasts; he condemned second marriages; [437:2] he inveighed against all who endeavoured to save themselves by flight in times of persecution; and he asserted that such as had once been guilty of any heinous transgression should never again be admitted to ecclesiastical fellowship. Whilst he promulgated this stern discipline, he at the same time delivered the most dismal predictions, announcing, among other things, the speedy catastrophe of the Roman Empire. He also gave out that the Phrygian village where he ministered was to become the New Jerusalem of renovated Christianity.
But the Church was still too strongly impregnated with the free spirit of the gospel to submit to such a prophet as Montanus. He had, however, powerful advocates, and even a Roman bishop at one time gave him countenance. [437:3] Though his discipline commended itself to the morose and pharisaical, it was rejected by those who rightly understood the mystery of godliness. Several councils were held to discuss its merits, and it was emphatically condemned. [438:1] The signal failure of some of the Montanist predictions had greatly lowered the credit of the party; Montanus was pronounced a false prophet; and though the sect was supported by Tertullian, the most vigorous writer of the age, it gradually ceased to attract notice. [438:2]
About a century after the appearance of Montanus, another individual, in a more remote part of Asia, acquired great notoriety as a heresiarch. The doctrine of two First Principles, a good deity and an evil deity, had been long current in the East. Even in the days of Isaiah we may trace its existence, for there is a most significant allusion to it in one of his prophecies, in which Jehovah is represented as saying—"I am the Lord, and there is none else, there is no God beside me.... I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil: I the Lord do all these things." [438:3] About the fifth century before Christ, the Persian theology had been reformed by Zoroaster, and the subordination of the two Principles to one God, the author of both, had been acknowledged as an article of the established creed. In the early part of the third century of the Christian era, there was a struggle between the adherents of the old and the new faith of Parsism; and the supporters of the views of Zoroaster had been again successful. But a considerable party still refused to relinquish the doctrine of the independence of the two Principles; and some of these probably joined themselves to Mani, a Persian by birth, who, in the latter half of the third century, became distinguished as the propagator of a species of mongrel Christianity. This man, who was born about A.D. 240, possessed genius of a high order. Though he finished his career when he was only thirty-seven years of age, he had already risen to eminence among his countrymen, and attracted the notice of several successive sovereigns. He is said to have been a skilful physician, an accomplished painter, and an excellent astronomer, as well as an acute metaphysician. Like Montanus, he laid claim to a divine commission, and alleged that he was the Paraclete who was promised to guide into all truth. He maintained that there are two First Principles of all things, light and darkness: God, in the kingdom of light, and the devil, in the kingdom of darkness, have existed from eternity. Mani thus accounted for the phenomena of the world around us—"Over the kingdom of light," said this heresiarch, "ruled God the Father, eternal in His sacred race, glorious in His might, the truth by His very essence.... But the Father himself, glorious in His majesty; incomprehensible in His greatness, has united with Himself blessed and glorious Aeons, in number and greatness surpassing estimation." [439:1] He taught that Christ appeared to liberate the light from the darkness, and that he himself was now deputed to reveal the mysteries of the universe, and to assist men in recovering their freedom. He rejected a great portion of the canon of Scripture, and substituted certain writings of his own, which his followers were to receive as of divine authority. His disciples, called Manichees or Manichaeans, assumed the name of a Church, and were divided into two classes, the Elect and the Hearers. The Elect, who were comparatively few, were the sacred order. They alone were made acquainted with the mysteries, or more recondite doctrines, of the sect; they practised extreme abstinence; they subsisted chiefly upon olives; [439:2] and they lived in celibacy. They were not to kill, or even wound, an animal; neither were they to pull up a vegetable, or pluck a flower. The Hearers were permitted to share in the business and pleasures of the world, but they were taught only the elements of the system. After death, according to Mani, souls do not pass immediately into the world of light. They must first undergo a two-fold purification; one, by water in the moon; another, by fire in the sun.
Mani had provoked the enmity of the Magians; and, at their instigation, he was consigned, about A.D. 277, by order of the Persian monarch, to a cruel and ignominious death. But the sect which he had organized did not die along with him. His system was well fitted to please the Oriental fancy; its promise of a higher wisdom to those who obtained admission into the class of the Elect encouraged the credulity of the auditors; and, to such as had not carefully studied the Christian revelation, its hypothesis of a Good and of an Evil Deity accounted rather plausibly for the mingled good and evil of our present existence. The Manichaeans were exposed to much suffering in the country where they first appeared; and, as a sect of Persian origin, they were oppressed by the Roman government; but they were not extinguished by persecution, and, far down in the middle ages, they still occasionally figure in the drama of history.
Synods and councils may pass resolutions condemnatory of false doctrine, but it is somewhat more difficult to counteract the seduction of the principles from which heresies derive their influence. The Gnostics, the Montanists, and the Manichaeans, owed much of their strength to fallacies and superstitions with which the Christian teachers of the age were not fully prepared to grapple; and hence it was that, whilst the errorists themselves were denounced by ecclesiastical authority, a large portion of their peculiar leaven found its way into the Church, and gradually produced an immense change in its doctrine and discipline. A notice of the more important of the false sentiments and dangerous practices which the heretics propagated and the catholics adopted, may enable us to estimate the amount of the damage which the cause of truth now sustained.
The Montanists recognised the distinction of venial and mortal sins. They held that a professed disciple, who was guilty of what they called mortal sin, should never again be admitted to sealing ordinances. [441:1] It is apparent from the writings of Hippolytus, the famous bishop of Portus, that, in the early part of the third century, some of the most influential of the catholics cordially supported this principle. Soon afterwards it was openly advocated by a powerful party in the Church of Borne, and its rejection by Cornelius, then at the head of that community, led to the schism of Novatian. But the distinction of venial and mortal sins, upon which it proceeded, was even now generally acknowledged. This distinction, which lies at the basis of the ancient penitential discipline, was already beginning to vitiate the whole catholic theology. Some sins, it is true, are more heinous than others, but the comparative turpitude of transgressions depends much on the circumstances in which they are committed. The wages of every sin is death, [441:2] and it is absurd to attempt to give a stereotyped character to any one violation of God's law by classing it, in regard to the extent of its guilt, in a particular category. Christianity regards sin, in whatever form, as a spiritual poison; and instead of seeking to solve the curious problem—how much of it may exist in the soul without the destruction of spiritual life?—it wisely instructs us to guard against it in our very thoughts, and to abstain from even the "appearance of evil." [442:1] "When lust," or indwelling depravity of any description, "has conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." [442:2] Experience has demonstrated that the admission of the distinction of venial and mortal sins is most perilous to the best interests of the Christian community; for, whilst it is without foundation in the inspired statutebook, it must inevitably lead to the neglect or careless performance of many duties which the Most High has solemnly enjoined.
The Platonic philosophy taught the necessity of a state of purification after death; [442:3] and a modification of this doctrine formed part of at least some of the systems of Gnosticism. [442:4] It is inculcated by Tertullian, the great champion of Montanism; [442:5] and we have seen how, according to Mani, departed souls must pass, first to the moon, and then to the sun, that they may thus undergo a twofold purgation. Here, again, a tenet originally promulgated by the heretics, became at length a portion of the creed of the Church. The Manichaeans, as well as the Gnostics, rejected the doctrine of the atonement, and as faith in the perfection of the cleansing virtue of the blood of Christ declined, a belief in Purgatory became popular. [442:6]
The Gnostics, with some exceptions, insisted greatly on the mortification of the body; and the same species of discipline was strenuously recommended by the Montanists and the Manichaeans. All these heretics believed that the largest measure of future happiness was to be realised by those who practised the most rigid asceticism. Mani admitted that an individual without any extraordinary amount of self-denial, might reach the world of Light, for he held out the hope of heaven to his Hearers; but he taught that its highest distinctions were reserved for the Elect, who scrupulously refrained from bodily indulgence. The Church silently adopted the same principle; and the distinction between precepts and counsels, which was soon introduced into its theology, rests upon this foundation. By precepts are understood those duties which are obligatory upon all; by counsels, those acts, whether of charity or abstinence, which are expected from such only as aim at superior sanctity. [443:1] The Elect of the Manichaeans, as well as many of the Gnostics, [443:2] declined to enter into wedlock, and the Montanists were disposed to confer double honour on the single clergy. [443:3] The Church did not long stand out against the fascinations of this popular delusion. Her members almost universally caught up the impression that marriage stands in the way of the cultivation of piety; and bishops and presbyters, who lived in celibacy, began to be regarded as more holy than their brethren. This feeling continued to gain strength; and from it sprung that vast system of monasticism which spread throughout Christendom, with such amazing rapidity, in the fourth century.
It thus appears that asceticism and clerical celibacy have been grafted on Christianity by Paganism. Hundreds of years before the New Testament was written, Buddhism could boast of multitudes of monks and eremites. [443:4] The Gnostics, in the early part of the second century, celebrated the praises of a single life; and the Elect of the Manichaeans were all celibates. Meanwhile marriage was permitted to the clergy of the catholic Church. Well might the apostle exhort the disciples to beware of those ordinances which have "a shew of wisdom in will-worship, and humility, and neglecting of the body," [444:1] as the austerities of the cloister are miserable preparatives for the enjoyments of a world of purity and love. Christianity exhibited startling tokens of degeneracy when it attempted to nourish piety upon the spawn of the heathen superstitions. The gospel is designed for social and for active beings; as it hallows all the relations of life, it also teaches us how to use all the good gifts of God; and whilst celibacy and protracted fasting may only generate misanthropy and melancholy, faith, walking in the ways of obedience, can purify the heart, and induce the peace that passeth all understanding.
CHAPTER V.
THE DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH.
For some time after the apostolic age, the doctrine of the Church remained unchanged. Those who had been taught the gospel by the lips of its inspired heralds could not have been readily induced to relinquish any of its distinctive principles. It must, indeed, be admitted that the purity of the evangelical creed was soon deteriorated by the admixture of dogmas suggested by bigotry and superstition; but, it may safely be asserted that, throughout the whole of the period now before us, its elementary articles were substantially maintained by almost all the Churches of the Empire.
Though there was still a pretty general agreement respecting the cardinal points of Christianity, it is not to be thought strange that the early writers occasionally expressed themselves in a way which would now be considered loose or inaccurate. Errorists, by the controversies they awakened, not unfrequently created much perplexity and confusion; but, in general, the truth eventually issued from discussion with renovated credit; for, in due time, acute and able advocates came forward to prove that the articles assailed rested on an impregnable foundation. During these debates it was found necessary to distinguish the different shades of doctrine by the establishment of a fixed terminology. The disputants were obliged to define with precision the expressions they employed; and thus various forms of speech ceased to have an equivocal meaning. But, in the second or third century, theology had not assumed a scientific form; and the language of orthodoxy was, as yet, unsettled. Hence, when treating of doctrinal questions, those whose views were substantially correct sometimes gave their sanction to the use of phrases which were afterwards condemned as the symbols of heterodoxy. [446:1]
About the beginning of the third century all adults who were admitted to baptism were required to make a declaration of their faith by assenting to some such formula as that now called "The Apostles' Creed;" [446:2] and though no general council had yet been held, the chief pastors of the largest and most influential Churches maintained, by letters, an official correspondence, and were in this way well acquainted with each other's sentiments. A considerable number of these epistles, or at least of extracts from them, are still extant; [446:3] and there is thus abundant proof of the unity of the faith of the ecclesiastical rulers. But, in treating of this subject, it is necessary to be more specific, and to notice particularly the leading doctrines which were now commonly received.
Before entering directly on this review, it is proper to mention that the Holy Scriptures were held in the highest estimation. The reading of them aloud formed part of the stated service of the congregations, and one or other of the passages brought, at the time, under the notice of the auditory, usually constituted the groundwork of the preacher's discourse. Their perusal was recommended to the laity; [447:1] the husband and wife talked of them familiarly as they sat by the domestic hearth; [447:2] and children were accustomed to commit them to memory. [447:3] As many of the disciples could not read, and as the expense of manuscripts was considerable, copies of the sacred books were not in the hands of all; but their frequent rehearsal in the public assemblies made the multitude familiar with their contents, and some of the brethren possessed an amount of acquaintance with these records which, even at the present day, would be deemed most extraordinary. Eusebius speaks of several individuals who could repeat, at will, any required passage from either the Old or New Testament. On a certain occasion the historian happened to be present when one of these walking concordances poured forth the stores of his prodigious memory. "I was struck with admiration," says he, "when I first beheld him standing amidst a large crowd, and reciting certain portions of Holy Writ. As long as I could only hear his voice, I supposed that he was reading, as is usual in the congregations; but, when I came close up to him, I discovered that, employing only the eyes of his mind, he uttered the divine oracles like some prophet." [447:4]
It was not extraordinary that the early Christians were anxious to treasure up Scripture in the memory, for in all matters of faith and practice the Written Word was regarded as the standard of ultimate appeal. No human authority whatever was deemed equal to the award of this divine arbiter. "They who are labouring after excellency," says a father of this period, "will not stop in their search after truth, until they have obtained proof of that which they believe from the Scriptures themselves." [448:1] Nor was there any dispute as to the amount of confidence to be placed in the language of the Bible. The doctrine of its plenary inspiration—a doctrine which many in modern times either openly or virtually deny—was now received without abatement or hesitation. Even Origen, who takes such liberties when interpreting the sacred text, admits most fully that it is all of divine dictation. "I believe," says he, "that, for those who know how to draw virtue from the Scriptures, every letter in the oracles of God has its end and its work, even to an iota and particle of a letter. And, as among plants, there is not one but has its peculiar virtue, and as they only who have a knowledge of botanical science can tell how each should be prepared and applied to a useful purpose; so it is that he who is a holy and spiritual botanist of the Word of God, by gathering up each atom and element will find the virtue of that Word, and acknowledge that there is nothing in all that is written that is superfluous." [448:3]
It has been already stated [448:3] that little difference of sentiment existed in the early Church respecting the books to be included in the canon of the New Testament. All, with the exception of the Gnostics and some other heretics, recognized the claims of the four Gospels, [448:4] of the Acts of the Apostles, of the Epistles of Paul, of the First Epistle of Peter, and of the First Epistle of John. Though, for a time, some Churches hesitated to acknowledge the remaining epistles, their doubts seem to have been gradually dissipated. At first the genuineness of the Apocalypse was undisputed; but, after the rise of the Montanists, who were continually quoting it in proof of their theory of a millennium, some of their antagonists foolishly questioned its authority. At an early period two or three tracts [449:1] written by uninspired men were received as Scripture by a number of Churches. They were never, however, generally acknowledged; and at length, by common consent, they were excluded from the canon. [449:2]
The code of heathen morality supplied a ready apology for falsehood, [449:3] and its accommodating principles soon found too much encouragement within the pale of the Church. Hence the pious frauds which were now perpetrated. Various works made their appearance with the name of some apostolic man appended to them, [449:4] their fabricators thus hoping to give currency to opinions or to practices which might otherwise have encountered much opposition. At the same time many evinced a disposition to supplement the silence of the Written Word by the aid of tradition. But though the writers of the period sometimes lay undue stress upon the evidence of this vague witness, they often resort to it merely as an offset against statements professedly derived from the same source which were brought forward by the heretics; and they invariably admit that the authority of Scripture is entitled to override the authority of tradition. "The Lord in the Gospel, reproving and rebuking, declares," says Cyprian, "ye reject the commandment of God that ye may keep your own tradition. [450:1] .... Custom should, not be an obstacle that the truth prevail not and overcome, for a custom without truth is error inveterate." [450:2] "What obstinacy is that, or what presumption, to prefer human tradition to divine ordinances, and not to perceive that God is displeased and provoked, as often as human tradition relaxes and sets aside the divine command." [450:3] During this period—the uncertainty of any other guide than the inspired record was repeatedly demonstrated; for, though Christians were removed at so short a distance from apostolic times, the traditions of one Church sometimes diametrically contradicted those of another. [450:4]
There is certainly nothing like uniformity in the language employed by the Christian writers of this era when treating of doctrinal subjects; and yet their theology seems to have been essentially the same. All apparently admit the corruption of human nature. Justin Martyr speaks of a "concupiscence in every man, evil in all its tendencies, and various in its nature," [450:5] whilst Tertullian mentions original sin under the designation of "the vice of our origin." [450:6] Our first parent, says he, "having been seduced into disobedience by Satan was delivered over to death, and transmitted his condemnation to the whole human race which was infected from his seed." [450:7] Though the ancient fathers occasionally describe free will in terms which apparently ignore the existence of indwelling depravity, [451:1] their language should not be too strictly interpreted, as it only implies a strong protest against the heathen doctrine of fate, and a recognition of the principle that man is a voluntary agent. Thus it is that Clemens Alexandrinus, one of the writers who asserts most decidedly the freedom of the will, admits the necessity of a new birth unto righteousness. "The Father," says he, "regenerates by the Spirit unto adoption all who flee to Him." [451:2] "Since the soul is moved of itself, the grace of God demands from it that which it has, namely, a ready temper as its contribution to salvation. For the Lord wishes that the good which He confers on the soul should be its own, since it is not without sensation, so that it should be impelled like a body." [451:3]
No fact is more satisfactorily attested than that the early disciples rendered divine honours to our Saviour. In the very beginning of the second century, a heathen magistrate, who deemed it his duty to make minute inquiries respecting them, reported to the Roman Emperor that, in their religious assemblies, they sang "hymns to Christ as to a God." [451:4] They were reproached by the Gentiles, as well as by the Jews, for worshipping a man who had been crucified. [451:5] When the accusation was brought against them, they at once admitted its truth, and they undertook to shew that the procedure for which they were condemned was perfectly capable of vindication. [452:1] In the days of Justin Martyr there were certain professing Christians, probably the Ebionites, [452:2] who held the simple humanity of our Lord, but that writer represents the great body of the disciples as entertaining very different sentiments. "There are some of our race," says he, "who confess that He was the Christ, but affirm that He was a man born of human parents, with whom I do not agree, neither should I, even if very many, who entertain the same opinion as myself, were to say so; since we are commanded by Christ to attend, not to the doctrines of men, but to that which was proclaimed by the blessed prophets, and taught by Himself." [452:3]
When Justin here expresses his dissent from those who described our Lord as "a man born of human parents," he obviously means no more than that he is not a Humanitarian, for, in common with the early Church, he held the doctrine of the two natures in Christ. The fathers who now flourished, when touching upon the question of the union of humanity and deity in the person of the Redeemer, do not, it is true, express themselves always with as much precision as writers who appeared after the Eutychian controversy in the fifth century; but they undoubtedly believed that our Lord was both God and man. [453:1] Even already the subject was pressed on their attention by various classes of errorists who were labouring with much assiduity to disseminate their principles. The Gnostics, who affirmed that the body of Jesus was a phantom, shut them up to the necessity of shewing that He really possessed all the attributes of a human being; whilst, in meeting objectors from a different quarter, they were compelled to demonstrate that He was also the Jehovah of the Old Testament. The Ebionites were not the only sectaries who taught that Jesus was a mere man. The same doctrine was inculcated by Theodotus, a native of Byzantium, who settled at Rome about the end of the second century. This individual, though by trade a tanner, possessed no small amount of learning, and created some disturbance in the Church of the Western capital by the novelty and boldness of his speculations. In the end he is said to have been excommunicated by Victor, the Roman bishop. Some time afterwards, his sentiments were adopted by Artemon, whose disciples, named Artemonites, elected a bishop of their own, [453:2] and existed for some time at Rome as a distinct community.
But by far the most distinguished of these ancient impugners of the proper deity of the Messiah was the celebrated Paul of Samosata, who flourished shortly after the middle of the third century. Paul occupied the bishopric of Antioch, the second see in Christendom; and was undoubtedly a man of superior talent. According to his views, the Divine Logos is not a distinct Person, but the Reason of God; and Jesus was the greatest of the sons of men simply because the Logos dwelt in Him after a higher manner, or more abundantly, than in any other of the posterity of Adam. [454:1] But though this prelate had great wealth, influence, and eloquence, his heterodoxy soon raised a storm of opposition which he could not withstand. The Christians of Antioch in the third century could not quietly tolerate the ministrations of a preacher who insinuated that the Word is not truly God. He appears to have possessed consummate address, and when first arraigned, his plausible equivocations and sophistries imposed upon his judges; but, at a subsequent council, held about A.D. 269 in the metropolis of Syria, he was so closely pressed by Malchion, one of his own presbyters, that he was obliged reluctantly to acknowledge his real sentiments. He was, in consequence, deposed from his office by a unanimous vote of the Synod. A circular letter [454:2] announcing the decision was transmitted to the leading pastors of the Church all over the Empire, and this ecclesiastical deliverance seems to have received their universal sanction. [454:3]
The theological term translated Trinity, [454:4] was in use as early as the second century; for, about A.D. 180, it is employed by Theophilus, who is supposed to have been one of the predecessors of Paul of Samosata in the Church of Antioch. [454:5] Speaking of the formation of the heavenly bodies on the fourth day of creation, as described in the first chapter of Genesis, this writer observes—"The three days which preceded the luminaries are types of the Trinity, [454:6] of God, and His Word, and His Wisdom." Here, as elsewhere in the works of the fathers of the early Church, the third person of the Godhead is named under the designation of Wisdom. [455:1] Though this is the first mention of the word Trinity to be found in any ecclesiastical document now extant, it is plain that the doctrine is of far higher antiquity. Justin Martyr repeatedly refers to it, and Athenagoras, who flourished in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, treats of it with much clearness. "We speak," says he, "of the Father as God, and the Son as God, and the Holy Ghost, shewing at the same time their power in unity, and their distinction in order." [455:2] "We who look upon this present life as worth little or nothing, and are conducted through it by the sole principle of knowing God and the Word proceeding from Him, of knowing what is the unity of the Son with the Father, what the Father communicates to the Son, what is the Spirit, what is the union of this number of Persons, the Spirit, the Son, and the Father, and in what way they who are united are divided—shall we not have credit given us for being worshippers of God?" [455:3]
The attempts made in the latter half of the second century to pervert the doctrine of Scripture relative to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, probably led to the appearance of the word Trinity in the ecclesiastical nomenclature; for, when controversy commenced, some such symbol was required to prevent the necessity of constant and tedious circumlocution. One of the most noted of the parties dissatisfied with the ordinary mode of speaking respecting the Three Divine Persons, and desirous of changing the current creed, was Praxeas, a native of Asia Minor. After having acquired much credit by his fortitude and courage in a time of persecution, he had also signalised himself by his zeal against the Montanists. He now taught that the Son and Holy Ghost are not distinct Persons, but simply modes or energies of the Father; and as those who adopted his sentiments imagined that they thus held more strictly than others the doctrine of the existence of a single Ruler of the universe, they styled themselves Monarchians. [456:1] According to their views the first and second Persons of the Godhead are identical; and, as it apparently followed from this theory, that the Father suffered on the cross, they received the name of Patripassians. [456:2] Praxeas travelled from Asia Minor to Rome, and afterwards passed over into Africa, where he was strenuously opposed by the famous Tertullian. Another individual, named Noetus, attracted some notice about the close of the second century by the peculiarity of his speculations in reference to the Godhead. "Noetus," says a contemporary, "calls the same both Son and Father, for he speaks thus—'When the Father had not been born, He was rightly called Father, but when it pleased Him to undergo birth, then by birth He became the Son of Himself, and not of another.' Thus he professes to establish the principle of Monarchianism." [456:3] But, perhaps, the attempts of Sabellius to modify the established doctrine made the deepest impression. This man, who was an ecclesiastic connected with Ptolemais in Africa, [456:4] maintained that there is no foundation for the ordinary distinction of the Persons of the Trinity, and that the terms Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, merely indicate different manifestations of the Supreme Being, or different phases under which the one God reveals Himself. From him the doctrine of those who confound the Persons of the Godhead still bears the name of Sabellianism.
It has been sometimes said that the Church borrowed its idea of a Trinity from Plato, but this assertion rests upon no historical basis. Learned men have found it exceedingly difficult to give anything like an intelligible account of the Trinity of the Athenian philosopher, [457:1] and it seems to have had only a metaphysical existence. It certainly had nothing more than a fanciful and verbal resemblance to the Trinity of Christianity. Had the doctrine of the Church been derived from the writings of the Grecian sage, it would not have been inculcated with so much zeal and unanimity by the early fathers. Some of them were bitterly opposed to Platonism, and yet, though none denounced it more vehemently than Tertullian, [457:2] we cannot point to any one of them who speaks of the Three Divine Persons more clearly or copiously. The heretic thinks, says he, "that we cannot believe in one God in any other way than if we say that the very same Person is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.... These persons assume the number and arrangement of the Trinity to be a division of the Unity; whereas the Unity, which derives a Trinity from itself, is not destroyed by it, but has its different offices performed. They, therefore, boast that two and three Gods are preached by us, but that they themselves are worshippers of one God; as if the Unity, when improperly contracted, did not create heresy, and a Trinity, when properly considered, did not constitute truth." [457:3]
Every one at all acquainted with the ecclesiastical literature of this period must acknowledge that the disciples now firmly maintained the doctrine of the Atonement. The Gnostics and the Manichaeans discarded this article from their systems, as it was entirely foreign to the spirit of their philosophy; but, though the Church teachers enter into scarcely any explanation of it, by attempting to shew how the violated law required a propitiation, they proclaim it as a glorious truth which should inspire all the children of God with joy and confidence. Clemens Alexandrinus gives utterance only to the common faith when he declares—"Christians are redeemed from corruption by the blood of the Lord." "The Word poured forth His blood for us to save human nature." "The Lord gave Himself a victim for us." [458:1] The early writers also mention faith as the means by which we are to appropriate the benefits of the Redeemer's sacrifice. Thus, Justin Martyr represents Christ as "purifying by His blood those who believe on Him." [458:2] Clemens Alexandrinus, in like manner, speaks of "the one mode of salvation by faith in God," [458:3] and says that "we have believed in God through the voice of the Word." [458:4] In the "Letter to Diognetus" the doctrine of justification by faith through the imputed righteousness of the Saviour is beautifully exhibited. "For what else," says the writer, "could cover our sins but His righteousness? In whom was it a possible that we, the lawless and the unholy, could be justified, save by the Son of God alone? Oh sweet exchange! oh unsearchable wisdom! oh unexpected benefits! that the sin of many should be hidden by One righteous, and the righteousness of One justify many sinners." [458:5]
The Church of the second and third centuries was not agitated by any controversies relative to grace and predestination. Few, probably, were disposed to indulge in speculations on these subjects; and some of the ecclesiastical writers, in the heat of controversial discussion, are occasionally tempted to make use of language which it would be difficult to reconcile with the declarations of the New Testament. All of them, however, either explicitly or virtually, admit the necessity of grace; and some distinctly enunciate the doctrine of election. "We stand in especial need of divine grace, and right instruction, and pure affection," says Clemens Alexandrinus, "and we require that the Father should draw us towards himself." "God, who knows the future as if it was already present, knows the elect according to His purpose even before the creation." [459:1] "Your power to do," says Cyprian, "will be according to the increase of spiritual grace.... What measure we bring thither of faith to hold, so much do we drink in of grace to inundate. Hereby is strength given." [459:2] It is worthy of note that those writers, who speak most decidedly of the freedom of the will, also most distinctly proclaim their faith in the perfection of the Divine Sovereignty. Thus, Justin Martyr urges, as a decisive proof of the impious character of their theology, that the heathen philosophers repudiated the doctrine of a particular providence; [459:3] and all the ancient fathers are ever ready to recognise the superintending guardianship of God in the common affairs of life.
But though the creed of the Church was still to some extent substantially sound, it must be admitted that it was already beginning to suffer much from adulteration. One hundred years after the death of the Apostle John, spiritual darkness was fast settling down upon the Christian community; and the fathers, who flourished towards the commencement of the third century, frequently employ language for which they would have been sternly rebuked, had they lived in the days of the apostles and evangelists. Thus, we find them speaking of "sins cleansed by repentance," [460:1] and of repentance as "the price at which the Lord has determined to grant forgiveness." [460:2] We read of "sins cleansed by alms and faith," [460:3] and of the martyr, by his sufferings, "washing away his own iniquities." [460:4] We are told that by baptism "we are cleansed from all our sins," and "regain that Spirit of God which Adam received at his creation and lost by his transgression." [460:5] "The pertinacious wickedness of the Devil," says Cyprian, "has power up to the saving water, but in baptism he loses all the poison of his wickedness." [460:6] The same writer insists upon the necessity of penance, a species of discipline unknown to the apostolic Church, and denounces, with terrible severity, those who discouraged its performance. "By the deceitfulness of their lies," says he, they interfere, "that satisfaction be not given to God in His anger..... All pains are taken that sins be not expiated by due satisfactions and lamentations, that wounds be not washed clean by tears." [460:7] It may be said that some of these expressions are rhetorical, and that those by whom they were employed did not mean to deny the all-sufficiency of the Great Sacrifice; but had these fathers clearly apprehended the doctrine of justification by faith in Christ, they would have recoiled from the use of language so exceedingly objectionable.
There are many who imagine that, had they lived in the days of Tertullian or of Origen, they would have enjoyed spiritual advantages far higher than any to which they have now access. But a more minute acquaintance with the ecclesiastical history of the third century might convince them that they have no reason to complain of their present privileges. The amount of material light which surrounds us does not depend on our proximity to the sun. When our planet is most remote from its great luminary, we may bask in the splendour of his effulgence; and, when it approaches nearer, we may be involved in thick darkness. So it is with the Church. The amount of our religious knowledge does not depend on our proximity to the days of primitive Christianity. The Bible is the sun of the spiritual firmament; and this divine illuminator, like the glorious orb of day, pours forth its light with equal brilliancy from generation to generation. The Church may retire into "chambers of imagery" erected by her own folly; and there, with the light shut out from her, may sink into a slumber disturbed only, now and then, by some dream of superstition; or, with the light still shining on her, her eye may be dim or disordered, and she may stumble at noonday. But the light is as pure as in the days of the apostles; and, if we have eyes to profit by it, we may "understand more than the ancients." The art of printing has supplied us with facilities for the study of the Scriptures which were denied to the fathers of the second century; and the ecclesiastical documents, relative to that age, which have been transmitted to us from antiquity, contain, perhaps, the greater part of even the traditionary information which was preserved in the Church. If we are only "taught of God," we are in as good a position for acquiring a correct acquaintance with the way of salvation as was Polycarp or Justin Martyr. What an encouragement for every one to pray—"Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. I am a stranger in the earth: hide not thy commandments from me!" [461:11]
SECTION III.
THE WORSHIP AND CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH.
CHAPTER I.
THE WORSHIP OF THE CHURCH.
The religion of the primitive Christians must have appeared exceedingly strange to their pagan contemporaries. The heathen worship was little better than a solemn show. Its victims adorned with garlands, its incense and music and lustral water, its priests arrayed in white robes, and its marble temples with gilded roofs, were fitted, rather to fascinate the senses, than to improve the heart or expand the intellect. Even the Jewish ritual, in the days of its glory, must have had a powerful effect on the imagination. As the Israelites assembled from all quarters at their great festivals—as they poured in thousands and tens of thousands into the courts of their ancient sanctuary—as they surveyed the various parts of a structure which was one of the wonders of the world—as they beheld the priests in their holy garments—and as they gazed on the high priest himself, whose forehead glittered with gold whilst his breastplate sparkled with precious stones—they must have felt that they mingled in a scene of extraordinary splendour. But, when Christianity made its appearance in the world, it presented none of these attractions. Its adherents were stigmatized as atheists, [463:1] because they had no altars, no temples, and no sacrifices. They held their meetings in private dwellings; their ministers wore no peculiar dress; and, by all who sought merely the gratification of the eye or of the ear, the simple service in which they engaged must have been considered very bald and uninteresting. But they rejoiced exceedingly in its spiritual character, as they felt that they could thus draw near to God, and hold sweet and refreshing communion with their Father in heaven.
It is probable that, during a considerable part of the second century, the Christians had comparatively few buildings set apart for public worship. At a time when they congregated to celebrate the rites of their religion at night or before break of day, it is not to be supposed that they were anxious to obtrude their conventicles on the notice of their persecutors. But as they increased in numbers, and as the State became somewhat more indulgent, they gradually acquired confidence; and, about the beginning of the third century, the form of their ecclesiastical structures seems to have been already familiar to the eyes of the heathen. [463:2] Shortly after that period, their meeting-houses in Rome were well known; and, in the reign of Alexander Severus, they ventured to dispute with one of the city trades the possession of a piece of ground on which they were desirous to erect a place of worship. [463:3] When the case came for adjudication before the Imperial tribunal, the sovereign decided in their favour, and thus virtually placed them under the shield of his protection. When the Emperor Gallienus, about A.D. 260, issued an edict of toleration, church architecture advanced apace, and many of the old buildings, which were now falling into decay, were superseded by edifices at once more capacious and more tasteful. The Christians at this time began to emulate the magnificence of the heathen temples, and even to ape their arrangements. Thus it is that some of our churches at the present day are nearly fac-similes of the ancient religious edifices of paganism. [464:1]
In addition to the administration of baptism and the Lord's Supper, the worship of the early Church consisted of singing, prayer, reading the Scriptures, and preaching. In the earliest notice of the Christians of the second century which occurs in any pagan writer, their psalmody, with which they commenced their religious services, [464:2] is particularly mentioned; for, in his celebrated letter to the Emperor Trajan, Pliny states that they met together, before the rising of the sun, to "sing hymns to Christ as to a God." It is highly probable that the "hymns" here spoken of were the Psalms of the Old Testament. Many of these inspired effusions celebrate the glories of Immanuel, and as, for obvious reasons, the Messianic Psalms would be used more frequently than any others, it is not strange that the disciples are represented as assembling to sing praise to Christ. But it would appear that the Church at this time was not confined to the ancient Psalter. Hymns of human composition were occasionally employed; [464:3] and one of these, to be found in the writings of Clement of Alexandria, [464:4] was, perhaps, sung in the early part of the third century by the Christians of the Egyptian capital. Influential bishops sometimes introduced them by their own authority, but the practice was regarded with suspicion, and seems to have been considered irregular. Hence Paul of Samosata, in the Council of Antioch held A.D. 269, was blamed for discontinuing the Psalms formerly used, and for establishing a new and very exceptionable hymnology. [465:1]
In the church, as well as in the synagogue, the whole congregation joined in the singing; [465:2] but instrumental music was never brought into requisition. The early Christians believed that the organs of the human voice are the most appropriate vehicles for giving utterance to the feelings of devotion; and viewing the lute and the harp as the carnal ordinances of a superannuated dispensation, they rejected their aid in the service of the sanctuary. Long after this period one of the most eminent of the ancient fathers describes the music of the flutes, sackbuts, and psalteries of the temple worship as only befitting the childhood of the Church. "It was," says he, "permitted to the Jews, as sacrifice was, for the heaviness and grossness of their souls. God condescended to their weakness, because they were lately drawn off from idols; but now, instead of instruments, we may use our own bodies to praise Him withal." [465:3]
The account of the worship of the Church, given by a Christian writer who flourished about the middle of the second century, is exceedingly instructive. "On the day which is called Sunday," says Justin Martyr, "there is a meeting together in one place of all who dwell either in towns or in the country; and the memoirs of the apostles, or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as the time permits. When the reading ceases, the president delivers a discourse, in which he makes an application and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. We then rise all together and pray. Then ... when we cease from prayer, bread is brought, and wine and water; and the president, in like manner, offers up prayers and thanksgivings according to his ability; [466:1] and the people express their assent by saying Amen." [466:2] It is abundantly clear from this statement that the presiding minister was not restricted to any set form of supplication. As he prayed "according to his ability," his petitions could neither have been dictated by others nor taken from a liturgy. Such a practice as the reading of prayers seems, indeed, to have been totally unknown in the Church during the first three centuries. Hence Tertullian represents the Christians of his generation as praying "looking up with hands spread open, ... and without a prompter because from the heart." [466:3] In his "Treatise on Prayer" Origen recommends the worshipper to address God with stretched out hands and uplifted eyes. [466:4] The erect body with the arms extended was supposed to represent the cross, [466:5] and therefore this attitude was deemed peculiarly appropriate for devotion. [466:6] On the Lord's day the congregation always stood when addressing God. [466:7] At this period forms of prayer were used in the heathen worship, [467:1] and in some cases the pagans adhered with singular tenacity to their ancient liturgies; [467:2] but the Church did not yet require the aid of such auxiliaries. It is remarkable that, though in the account of the losses sustained during the Diocletian persecution, we read frequently of the seizure of the Scriptures, and of the ecclesiastical utensils, we never meet with any allusion to the spoliation of prayer-books. [467:3] There is, in fact, no evidence whatever that such helps to devotion were yet in existence. [467:4]
The worship was now conducted in a dialect which was understood by the congregation; and though the officiating minister was at perfect liberty to select his phraseology, it is probable that he did not think it necessary to aim at great variety in the mere language of his devotional exercises. So long as a petition was deemed suitable, it perhaps continued to be repeated in nearly the same words, whilst providential interpositions, impending persecutions, and the personal condition of the flock, would be continually suggesting some fresh topics for thanksgiving, supplication, and confession. The beautiful and comprehensive prayer taught by our Lord to His disciples was never considered out of place; and, as early as the third century, it was, at least in some districts, used once at every meeting of the faithful. [468:1] The apostle had taught the brethren that intercessions should be made "for kings and for all that are in authority," [468:2] and the primitive disciples did not neglect to commend their earthly rulers to the care of the Sovereign of the universe. [468:3] But still it is clear that even such petitions did not run in the channel of any prescribed formulary.
From the very days of the apostles the reading of the Scriptures constituted an important part of public worship. This portion of the service was, at first perhaps, conducted by one of the elders, but, in some places, towards the close of the second century, it was committed to a new official, called the Reader. [468:4] The presiding minister seems to have been permitted originally to choose whatever passages he considered most fitting for the occasion, as well as to determine the amount of time which was to be occupied in the exercise; but, at length, an order of lessons was prepared, and then the Reader was expected to confine himself to the Scriptures pointed out in his calendar. [468:5] This arrangement, which was obviously designed to secure a more uniform attention to the several parts of the inspired canon, came only gradually into general operation; and it frequently happened that the order of lessons for one church was very different from that used in another. [468:6]
Whilst the constant reading, in the vernacular tongue, of considerable portions of Scripture at public worship, promoted the religious instruction of the people, the mode of preaching which now prevailed contributed to make them still more intimately acquainted with the sacred records. The custom of selecting a text as the basis of a discourse had not yet been introduced; but, when the reading closed, the minister proceeded to expatiate on that section of the Word which had just been brought under the notice of the congregation, and pointed out, as well the doctrines which it recognised, as the practical lessons which it inculcated. The entire presbytery was usually present in the congregation every Lord's day, and when one or other of the elders had made a few comments, [469:1] the president added some remarks of an expository and hortatory character; but, frequently, he received no assistance in this part of the service. The method of reading and elucidating Scripture, now pursued, was eminently salutary; for, whilst it stored the memory with a large share of biblical knowledge, the whole Word of God, in the way of earnest appeal, was brought into close contact with the heart and conscience of each individual.
So long as pristine piety flourished, the people listened with devout attention to the observations of the preacher; but, as a more secular spirit prevailed, he began to be treated, rather as an orator, than a herald from the King of kings. Before the end of the third century, the house of prayer occasionally resounded with the plaudits of the theatre. Such exhibitions were, indeed, condemned at the time by the ecclesiastical authorities, but the very fact that in the principal church of one of the chief cities of the Empire, the bishop, as he proceeded with his sermon, was greeted with stamping of feet, clapping of hands, and waving of handkerchiefs, [469:2] supplied melancholy evidence of the progress of spiritual degeneracy. In the days of the Apostle Paul such demonstrations would have been universally denounced as unseemly and unseasonable.
During the first three centuries there was nothing in the ordinary costume of a Christian minister to distinguish him from any of his fellow-citizens; [470:1] but, it would appear, that when the pastor officiated in the congregation, he began, at an early date, to wear some peculiar piece of apparel. In an old document, purporting to have been written shortly after the middle of the second century, he is described, at the period of his advancement to the episcopal chair, as "clothed with the dress of the bishops." [470:2] As the third century advanced, there was a growing disposition to increase the pomp of public worship; in some places vessels of silver or of gold were used at the dispensation of the, Lord's Supper; [470:3] and it is highly probable that, about this time, some few decorations were assumed by those who took part in its administration. But still the habit used by ecclesiastics at divine service was distinguished by its comparative simplicity, and differed very little from the dress commonly worn by the mass of the population.
What a change must have passed over the Church from the period before us to the dawn of the Reformation! Now, the making of images was forbidden, and no picture was permitted to appear even on the walls of the sacred edifice: [470:4] then, a church frequently suggested the idea of a studio, or a picture-gallery. Now, the whole congregation joined heartily in the psalmody: then, the mute crowd listened to the music of the organ accompanied by the shrill voices of a chorus of thoughtless boys. Now, prayers, in the vernacular tongue and suited to the occasion, were offered with simplicity and earnestness; then, petitions, long since antiquated, were muttered in a dead language. Now, the Word was read and expounded in a way intelligible to all: then, a few Latin extracts from it were mumbled over hastily; and, if a sermon followed, it was, perhaps, a eulogy on some wretched fanatic, or an attack on some true evangelist. There are writers who believe that the Church was meanwhile going on in a career of hopeful development; but facts too clearly testify that she was moving backwards in a path of cheerless declension. Now, the Church "holding forth the Word of life" was commending herself to philosophers and statesmen: then, she had sunk into premature dotage, and her very highest functionaries were lisping the language of infidelity.
CHAPTER II.
BAPTISM.
When the venerable Polycarp was on the eve of martyrdom, he is reported to have said that he had served Christ "eighty and six years." [472:1] By the ancient Church these words seem to have been regarded as tantamount to a declaration of the length of his life, and as implying that he had been a disciple of the Saviour from his infancy. [472:2] The account of his martyrdom indicates that he was still in the enjoyment of a green old age, [472:3] and as very few overpass the term of fourscore years and six, we are certainly not at liberty to infer, without any evidence, and in the face of probabilities, that he had now attained a greater longevity. A contemporary father, who wrote about the middle of the second century, informs us, that there were then many persons of both sexes, some sixty, and some seventy years of age, who had been "disciples of Christ from childhood," [472:4] and the pastor of Smyrna is apparently included in the description. If he was eighty-six at the time of his death, he must have been about threescore and ten when Justin Martyr made this announcement.
No one could have been considered a disciple of Jesus who had not received baptism, and it thus appears that there were many aged persons, living about A.D. 150, to whom, when children, the ordinance had been administered. We may infer, also, that Polycarp, when an infant, had been in this way admitted within the pale of visible Christianity. Infant baptism must, therefore, have been an institution of the age of the apostles. This conclusion is corroborated by the fact that Justin Martyr speaks of baptism as supplying the place of circumcision. "We," says he, "who through Christ have access to God, have not received that circumcision which is in the flesh, but that spiritual circumcision which Enoch, and others like him, observed. And this, because we have been sinners, we do, through the mercy of God, receive by baptism." [473:1] Justin would scarcely have represented the initiatory ordinance of the Christian Church as supplying so efficiently the place of the Jewish rite, had it not been of equally extensive application. The testimony of Irenaeus, the disciple of Polycarp, throws additional light upon this argument. "Christ," says he, "came to save all persons by Himself; all, I say, who by Him are regenerated unto God—infants, and little ones, and children, and youths, and aged persons: therefore He went through the several ages, being made an infant for infants, that He might sanctify infants; [473:2] and, for little ones, He was made a little one, to sanctify them of that age also." [473:3] Irenaeus elsewhere speaks of baptism as our regeneration or new birth unto God, [473:4] so that his meaning in this passage cannot well be disputed. He was born on the confines of the apostolic age, and when he mentions the regeneration unto God of "infants, and little ones, and children," he alludes to their admission by baptism to the seal of salvation.
The celebrated Origen was born about A.D. 185, and we have as strong circumstantial evidence as we could well desire that he was baptized in infancy. [474:1] Both his parents were Christians, and as soon as he was capable of receiving instruction, he began to enjoy the advantages of a pious education. He affirms, not only that the practice of infant baptism prevailed in his own age, but that it had been handed down as an ecclesiastical ordinance from the first century. "None," says he, "is free from pollution, though his life upon the earth be but the length of one day, and for this reason even infants are baptized, because by the sacrament of baptism the pollution of our birth is put away." [474:2] "The Church has received the custom of baptizing little children from the apostles." [474:3]
The only writer of the first three centuries who questions the propriety of infant baptism is Tertullian. The passage in which he expounds his views on this subject is a most transparent specimen of special pleading, and the extravagant recommendations it contains sufficiently attest that he had taken up a false position. "Considering," says he, "every one's condition and disposition, and also his age, the delay of baptism is more advantageous, but especially in the case of little children. For what necessity is there that the sponsors be brought into danger? Because they may fail to fulfil their promises by death, or may be deceived by the child's proving of a wicked disposition. Our Lord says indeed—'Do not forbid them to come unto me.' Let them come, therefore, whilst they are growing up, let them come whilst they are learning, whilst they are being taught where it is they are coming, let them be made Christians when they are capable of knowing Christ. Why should their innocent age make haste to the remission of sins? Men proceed more cautiously in worldly things; and he that is not trusted with earthly goods, why should he be trusted with divine? Let them know how to ask salvation, that you may appear to give it to one that asketh. For no less reason unmarried persons ought to be delayed, because they are exposed to temptations, as well virgins that are come to maturity, as those that are in widowhood and have little occupation, until they either marry or be confirmed in continence. They who know the weight of baptism will rather dread its attainment than its postponement." [475:1]
In the apostolic age all adults, when admitted to baptism, answered for themselves. Had additional sponsors been required for the three thousand converts who joined the Church on the day of Pentecost, [475:2] they could not have been procured. The Ethiopian eunuch and the Philippian jailor [475:3] were their own sponsors. Until long after the time when Tertullian wrote, there were, in the case of adults, no other sponsors than the parties themselves. But when an infant was dedicated to God in baptism, the parents were required to make a profession of the faith, and to undertake to train up their little one in the way of righteousness. [476:1] It is to this arrangement that Tertullian refers when he says—"What necessity is there that the sponsors be brought into danger? Because even they may fail to fulfil their promises by death, or may be deceived by the child's proving of a wicked disposition."
It is plain, from his own statements, that infant baptism was practised in the days of this father; and it is also obvious that it was then said to rest on the authority of the New Testament. Its advocates, he alleges, quoted in its defence the words of our Saviour—"Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not." [476:2] And how does Tertullian meet this argument? Does he venture to say that it is contradicted by any other Scripture testimony? Does he pretend to assert that the appearance of parents, as sponsors for their children, is an ecclesiastical innovation? Had this acute and learned controversialist been prepared to encounter infant baptism on such grounds, he would not have neglected his opportunity. But, instead of pursuing such a line of reasoning, he merely exhibits his weakness by resorting to a piece of miserable sophistry. When our Lord said—"Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not," He illustrated His meaning as He "took them up in His arms, put His hands upon them, and blessed them;" [476:3] so that the gloss of Tertullian—"Let them come whilst they are growing up, let them come whilst they are learning"—is a palpable misinterpretation. Nor is this all. The Carthaginian father must have known that there were frequent instances in the days of the apostles of the baptism of whole households; and yet he maintains that the unmarried, especially young widows, cannot with safety be admitted to the ordinance. Had he been with Paul and Silas at Philippi he would thus scarcely have consented to the baptism of Lydia; and he would certainly have protested against the administration of the rite to all the members of her family. [477:1] |
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