>sa«^^fl/' ^^ ^>^.^>s': ^- *f\^~*' anCfl-^'7 ^m &Kg&*$3P3P!» I*lh HERESY CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE. E. DE PRESSENSE, D.D., Author of "Jesus Christ; His Times, Life, and Work,' TRANSLATED BY ANNIE HARWOOD. Hontion: HODDER AND STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW. MDCCCLXXIII. osg) mm &^:?BH3fl^ffVi>c'|1['W0HTH^>Q I'NWIN BROTHERS, PRINTERS BY WATER-POWER TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. This Volume — " Heresy and Christian Doctrine," now introduced for the first time to the English public, is the third in a consecutive series, intended to present a complete picture, from the Author's point of view, of the spiritual life and history of the Church during the first three centuries of the Christian era. The two previous volumes — " Early Years of Christianity." and " Martyrs and Apologists " — delineated chiefly the extensive growth of the Church and its conflicts with enemies without. The present volume treats rather of its intensive development and the history of its doctrines. The concluding volume of the series will appear simultaneously in English and in French. The recent pressure of political, in addition to pastoral duties, has prevented Dr. Pressense, as yet, from arranging his accumulated materials for this work. He has, however, engaged to prepare it for publication with the least possible delay. Annie Harwood. Great Shelford, Cambridge, December loth, 1872. CONTENTS. Book jFtrjst* HERESY. CHAPTER I. Gnosticism I. The General Characteristics of Gnosticism PAGB I II. The Gnostics of the First School. Valentinus and his followers ... -22 III. The Gnostics of the Second School. The Ophites. Marcion .........29 CHAPTER II. Manichjeism .... .... 51 CHAPTER III. Judaising Heresy in the Second and Third Cen turies 74 I. The Elkesaites and the Ebionites 74 II. The Clementines - 85 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. PAGE MONTANISM ... . IOI CHAPTER V. The First Unitarians - 125 I. The First School of Unitarians 125 II. The Second School of Unitarians 138 CHAPTER VI. The Apocryphal Literature of the Second and Third Centuries, and its Influence upon the Formation of Oral Tradition 151 I. Apocryphal Writings positively Heretical 153 II. The Apocrypha not positively Heretical - 173 »>ecottti 3Boofe. THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE IN THE SECOND AND THIRD CENTURIES. CHAPTER I. General Considerations Ig3 I. The Universal Faith of the Church in the Second and Third Centuries - " 193 II. The Various Schools and Tendencies in the Dogmatic Development of the Second and Third Centuries - 208 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER II. PAGE The Greco- Asiatic School 221 I. The Letter to Diognetus - - - 221 II. The Theology of Justin Martyr - - 227 III. Athenagoras, Theophilus of Antioch, Tatian 250 CHAPTER III. The Theology of the Alexandrine School. Clement of Alexandria - 255 I. The Theodicy of Clement of Alexandria 256 II.' Creation and Redemption 264 III. Christian Morals. Authority. The Doctrine of the Church and of the Sacraments. The Closing Dispen sation - 276 CHAPTER IV. Continuation of the Alexandrine School. The System of Origen 296 I. The Theodicy of Origen - 299 II. The Creation and the Fall 308 III. Redemption - 321 IV. Conversion and the Christian Life 338 V. The Church. Worship. The Sacrament. The End of all things - 346 CHAPTER V. Continuation of the Alexandrine School. The Disciples of Origen - 356 I. Pierius, Gregory Thaumaturgus, Theognostus 357 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER V.— Continued. PAGE II. Dionysius of Alexandria 360 III. Julius Africanus, Methodius, Pamphylus the Martyr 368 CHAPTER VI. The Greco-Roman School - 374 I. The Theology of Irenaeus - 375 II. St. Hippolytus. Dionysius of Rome - - - 4°5 CHAPTER VII. The School of Carthage - - - 4r9 I. The System of Tertullian - - - - - 419 II. Cyprian - - - 456 Conclusion - - - 463 Index. 473 THE HISTORY OF DOCTRINE. BOOK FIRST— HERESY. CHAPTER I. GNOSTICISM. (a) The General Characteristics of Gnosticism. In the two preceding volumes of this work we have described the great conflicts of the Church of Christ during the first three centuries of our era. The history of primitive Christianity is the history of a desperate struggle between the old world and the new faith just cradled in Judaea. This warfare was not confined to any one sphere ; it was universal. Persecution was the first and inevitable manifestation of this deadly hostility. Not only was the new religion opposed to all the constituent principles of Pagan society, and repugnant to the prejudices of degenerate Judaism, but it was essentially an aggressive and victorious power. It was not content to be an alien in the midst of the brilliant and corrupt civilisation into which it was born, and to pass upon it only the silent con- '*- 2 2 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. demnation of its own pure presence ; it lifted up its voice in protest against its vileness and deceptive lustre. It did not merely refuse to offer incense to the idol; it unmasked the false god and denounced the abominations of the idol-Worship. The humblest of its representatives was a witness for Christ — His soldier, His missionary. In all places and in all seasons Christianity carried on a mission, ever active and aggressive. Between it and the ancient world the opposition was radical and absolute. Doubt less, on the part of the Christians, all was gentleness and resignation, but this very gentleness under the fire of persecution, had the effect of an irritating provocation in a society, the only recognised basis of which was violence. Martyrdom, blending sublime resignation with unconquerable fidelity, was the holy challenge of the soul to brute force, and the fiercest resistance would have been better tolerated than this triumphant weakness, which revealed the indomitable energy of conscience. This terrible conflict, which lasted for three centuries, we have traced through its various phases, till the day when the sword fell from the hand of the persecutors.* But the struggle was not con fined to arenas and torture-prisons ; it was carried on also in the domain of thought. Paganism assailed Christian doctrine by all the voices at its command — by popular clamour, by public calumny, by the sar casms of fine satirists like Lucian, by the formal philosophy of a Celsus and a Porphyry. Nay, it even * See "Martyrs and Apologists." The great conflict between Christianity and Paganism. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 3 devised new systems, by which it sought to vanquish the Gospel with its own weapons, borrowing from it the methods for the assault. We have endeavoured to reproduce the learned and eloquent replies to these various assailants, which were presented by the Christian apology of the first ages, as it found ex ponents at Carthage, at Alexandria, and at Rome. We have now to deal with more dangerous and treacherous attacks, those, namely, of heresy, which added, as it were, the perils of intestine and civil war to these formidable assaults from without. In reality, the enemy is always the same, but more subtle and disguised ; the adversary is still the ancient world, but now the attempt is to stifle the new religion by embracing it. If Christianity could not release itself from this deadly clasp, it was, indeed, doomed, for it would have lost that which constituted its essence and vital principle. I know that some question our right thus to characterise the ten dencies which were so keenly combated by the early Fathers. The very name of heresy is regarded as an attack levelled at liberty of conscience and of thought. We cannot share these scruples, the logical issue of which must be to deprive Christianity of all distinctive character. Doubtless, in subsequent times, when the Church — • transformed into a hierarchy, and incorporated with the Empire — committed to the civil power the guardianship of her creed, the designation heresy acquired a new import ; it was the dictum of an arbitrary, often tyrannical authority, and too often carried in its train forcible and material repression. But this was not the 2 * 4 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. case in the period preceding the great Councils, when no civil penalties were attached to spiritual errors. The Church was then a free association ; and it was open to any, without detriment, to separate from it. The argument against error was enforced only by moral and intellectual suasion. One uniform type of doctrine had not yet been produced ; secondary differences found free expression in the East and West ; theology was not fettered by invariable formulas. If, in the midst of this diversity, we still discover a common basis of faith, we must surely regard this, not as a system composed and formulated by the authority of a school, but as the faith itself, in its truest instinct and most spontaneous manifestation. If this same unanimity, which is apparent in the essentials of the faith, is also displayed in the repudiation of certain other influences, may we not fairly conclude that those influences were in flagrant controversion of the fundamental principles of Christianity ? This presumption becomes a certainty if we recognise, in the doctrine thus universally rejected by the Church, the characteristic features of one of the religions of the past. It is impossible to maintain that Gnosticism and Ebionitism are legitimate forms of Christian thought, unless we are prepared to admit that Christian thought has no individuality, no specific character by which it may be recognised. Otherwise, under pretext of giving it greater breadth, it is reduced to a nullity. No one, in the time of Plato, would have dared to attach his name to any doctrine which would have been incompatible with the theory of ideas, and anyone would have excited the just ridicule of Greece, who should have spoken of Epicurus or of Zeno as a BOOK I. ---GNOSTICISM. 5 disciple of the Academy. Let us admit then, that if there exists a religion or doctrine known as Christianity, the existence of heresies in connection with it is a necessary possibility. The word heresy has properly a very noble meaning, since it signifies free choice applied to a doctrine. From the first the new religion was called a heresy by the Jews,* who were accustomed to designate by this name various parties or divers sects. To the orthodoxy of the synagogue indeed, Christianity could not but- seem worthy of excommunication, since it assailed its very vital principle. The Apostles applied the same designation to the tendencies which, whether from the Jewish point of view or from that of Pagan speculation, impinged upon and imperilled the true faith in Jesus Christ.t The Fathers used the word heresy in the same manner. We, like them, must understand it to apply to doctrines which, upon some capital point, are in direct contradiction to primitive Christianity. In the second and third centuries, heresy is always a reaction, either in the direction of Judaism or Paganism. Thus it carries on, in an inner and more vital sphere, the same conflict which was waged between the Gospel and the ancient world, in the realms of fact and of thought. The Pagan reaction was by far the most important. The heresy which, sprang from Judaism was a timid and insignificant t*hing, or, at least, was far outweighed and outrun by the heresy which was born of Paganism. The latter therefore will claim our first attention. 1 We have already indicated its * Acts xxiv. 14. f Gal. v. 20 ; Titus iii. 10. J The principal books of reference for the VJ(i|d.y of Gnosticism '*'¦..' N 6 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. obscure beginnings in the portion of this book devoted to the Apostolic age. In the second century, it emerges from the formative period as a great school, and sets up its own altar in opposition to that of primitive Christianity. The time is come for us to characterise this important spiritual movement, so rife with perils to the Church. However numerous the schools into which Gnosti cism is divided, it has one dominant trait, which is never effaced, and which is sufficiently indicated by its very name. The term knowledge occurs in the writings of the Apostles, but it there designates simply the more profound apprehension of Christian truth.* In the Epistle of Barnabas it acquires a sense more nearly allied to the new meaning, which became attached to it in the second century, for it there represents an allegorical interpretation of the Old Testament, superseding the literal import. t It is but are : 1st. The writings of Irenasus, Epiphanius, and Theodoret (" De Hasretic. Fabulis") against heresies. 2nd. The writings of the Fathers, and primarily those of the Alexandrine Fathers. Eusebius' History is very important, because of its quotations. 3rd. The " Philosophou- mena" (Ed. Dunker and Schneidewin, Gottingen, 1855), in which we find, for the first time, the genuine text of Basilides and Valentinus. This is a document of the first moment, to which we shall con stantly refer. 4th. The " Pistis Sophia," a sort of Gnostic poem, recently discovered (Ed. Petermann, Berlin, 1853). 5th. Among modern writings, beside the general histories of the Church and of doctrine from which we may quote, we refer to Neandert monograph, "Genetische Entwickel. der Vornehmst. Gnostisch. Systeme," 1818 ; the remarkable essay of his disciple Rossel, published in his posthumous works (" Theol. Schrift," Berlin, 1847); Baur's great book, " Die Christliche Gnosis," Tubingen, 1835 > and "l'Histoire Critique du Gnosticisme," by M. Matter, 1828- 1845. All these works of reference are inadequate, because so many new sources have been opened up. * 1 Cor. viii. 1 ; 3 Cor. viii. 7. \ " Ep. Barnab.," chap. ii. ix. x. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 7 a step beyond this to the daring speculation which arbitrarily tampers with the texts. The tendency of Gnosticism is always to make the element of knowledge predominate over that of the moral life ; it changes religion into theosophy. If it had confined itself to seeking the satisfaction of the intellectual faculties by the searching study of revelation, the attempt would have been perfectly justifiable. Christianity is not a religion that stultifies the mental faculties ; on the contrary, it gives a powerful impetus to thought, and enlarges its domain by opening to it the realm of the infinite, the invisible, the divine ; and if the mind is indeed overwhelmed by truths which are as high above its grasp as the heavens are above the earth, it sinks only under the weight of unsearchable riches. Faith leads to knowledge, for it is not possible that the whole nature of the man — head, heart, and conscience — should not strive to apprehend the divine object of his faith. There is a genuine Christian knowledge, which has taken an important part in the development of the Church ; theology is the very knowledge which, according to Apostolic precept, is to be added to faith. But, in order to preserve its true character, it must never be allowed to become pure speculation, or to fall into the esoterism which makes its doctrines a mystery to all but the select initiate. Christianity is a divine manifestation, a free and sovereign intervention of God in history ; it is a fact before it is an idea ; its history is the basis of its system. It is a positive rather than a theoretical religion, — a glorious remedy for a desperate evil, a grand restoration. On the awful reality of the Fall, 8 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. it rears the sublime reality of Redemption. Hence its eminently moral character; it moves in the living sphere of free and personal influences, over which logic has no rigid or restrictive power. It starts with the statement of great facts, which are not the product of a syllogism, since liberty, whether in God or man, eludes the restraints of reasoning, and by its very essence reveals itself as a spontaneous force. This moral and historical character of Christianity is just that which brings it within the reach of all men, whatever their diversities of intellectual culture, since it makes its appeal primarily to the heart and con science — to that which is fundamental and universal in the soul. This is the key to that grand and trium phant exclamation of Jesus : " I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and revealed them unto babes." A religion which should be for the wise and thoughtful only, would be but an abstract specula tion, fit to delight the finer spirits capable of rising to those rarefied heights ; it would be no divine mani festation, coming within the grasp, or commending itself to the direct intuition of the human heart, whether that heart beat in hut or palace, under the peasant's smock or the philosopher's mantle. Jesus Christ might well glory in the divine popularity of His teaching, for this was a fact entirely new. Until He came, every system which had been raised above the gross superstitions of Paganism, had been only an abstract and obscure philosophy, reserved for a little company of disciples. It was this eclecticism which the teaching of the BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 9 Gnostics sought to revive in the Church. Knowledge was with them everything; Christianity, therefore, was a matter of knowledge, a science reserved to the initiate. This was a complete inversion of the Gospel method, and involved far more than an exclusive predominance granted to one element over another. In truth, religion cannot be transformed into a rigid science, except by laying at its basis the fatalistic conception of the universe. If everything is regulated by, and transpires according to inflexible laws, we have but to learn the construction of the machine, and the place in it assigned to us. But if, on the contrary, there exists a moral world, if the divine freedom appeals to the human, knowledge is comparatively insignificant ; obedience, surrender, is the essential. Assuredly, the opposition between these two concep tions of religion is absolute ; it is, in truth, the opposition between the fatalistic speculation of Pagan naturalism, and the free and living faith of a true religion. Thus we see that by its exclusively intellectual tendency, Gnosticism abandons the noble banner of Christian spirituality, and returns to the dualism which was the curse of the ancient world. We shall observe how faithful it was to its principle, and with what often treacherous art it revived the old errors which had brought to ruin the most brilliant civilisation of the world. From this primary and purely specu lative character, there resulted the haughty esoterism which reconstituted the aristocracy of intellect, and placed its barrier in the way of the young and the simple-hearted. It was found, in the end, that this 10 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. privilege turned to the detriment of those who gloried in it, for the rare fruit which they had thus strained upwards to gather from the topmost branches of the tree of science, proved but a dry husk in their hands. Better a thousand times the homely bread broken so freely to the multitudes who gathered round the feet of Christ! The predominance of the intellectual and speculative element in Gnosticism, must not, however, lead us to conceive of it as a mere philosophical school, at least in the modern meaning of that term. It is erroneous to regard it as simply a philosophy of religion.* Such a conception belongs to later modes of thought, and is not in character with the troubled era which produced, beside the so-called Christian Gnosticism, so many analogous systems. Philosophy, especially since the time of Descartes, presents itself to us as entirely distinct from poetry, by the severity of its methods and the rigour of its deductions. It may indeed seek to bring into conformity with its systems, the symbols of an already established and well-defined religion. This is the attempt which has been made by the Hegelianism of our day, with singular boldness of interpretation. But philosophy does not create new symbols, or if it did, it would treat them as simple metaphors not to be seriously accepted. The various provinces of the mind of man are as distinct as the various countries of the world ; their boundaries are sharply marked. Imagina tion finds no place in modern speculation, or, at least, it only lends to it types more or less transparent. It was far otherwise in the earliest age of the Christian era. * This is Baurs idea in his remarkable work on Gnosticism. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. II The religion and philosophy of Paganism — both resting, it is true, on one and the same basis — were constantly confounded. The classic style, with its chaste and lucid forms, had vanished from the intellectual world, no less than from the realm of art. The East overspread the entire West with its myths, its sublime poetry, its heterogeneous faiths. Hence resulted a mental condi tion not easily to be apprehended by us. In the world of ideas, the impossible had become the ordinary and familiar ; men's minds were intoxicated with the philter of the great goddess, who, under the name of Isis, or Cybele, or Diana of Ephesus, was simply nature deified. Placing the infinite beneath, and not above, men strove at any cost to discover it, to animate the idol they had made, as Pygmalion strove to chafe his marble into the warmth of life ; to nature was ascribed the creative power; it was supposed to contain hidden, mysterious forces, capable of producing universal life. These forces the eye of the imagination watches at work, like those primordial spirits which Faust beheld, " weaving the living robe of divinity upon the rushing loom of time." Thus does the most absolute naturalism merge into magic and theurgy, and lose itself in a fantastic dream, in which the strangest visions are taken for realities, and form the sequel to a close and abstract argument. A knowledge of what may be called the intellectual pathology of this period — a period unique in history — is necessary to enable us to appreciate, or even to under stand, the appearance of such a phenomenon as Gnos ticism. This is only one of the special manifestations of a far more extensive movement, or rather, it is the reaction of that movement on the heart of Christianity. 12 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. The second and third centuries of our era came, to a large extent, under these combined influences of philo sophy and religion, and the result was a sort of mystical naturalism, the development of which requires explana tion. The religions of nature,* after having opened the cycle of Paganism, must needs close it again ; for, unaided, man can never wholly free himself from this circle ; the soul seeks and yearns after a higher and holier God; sometimes it may even rise to Him with a sudden soaring impulse, but it cannot sustain itself at such a giddy height ; it soon falls back under the dominion of natural forces, and returns to its former worship, but with a soul rest less and dissatisfied. The old religion has lost that fresh and artless enchantment which breathes in the songs of the Yedas. The melancholy strain predomi nates, as at the close of a gay festival at Rome or Athens, when the crowns of the guests fall faded at their feet. Man is no more content with the natural phenomena of the bright and fruitful dawning, of the fertilising rain, and the fire "which quivers on the hearth like a bird of golden wing." Beneath the out ward manifestation, he seeks the deep, hidden, bound less cause of all ; he falls into a crushing pantheism, which brings him into the presence, not of a living God, but of a yawning abyss, in which there is neither beginning nor end, where everything is moving in one incessant process of evolution. The religion of India especially in its final form of Buddhism, had given the most perfect expression to pantheistic naturalism ; this was its final utterance. Its influence was therefore great in an age when the ancient barriers, by which BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 13 nations were divided, were everywhere falling. It exercised an unquestionably wider sway than Parseeism, which was less inclined to asceticism and ecstacy — the two wings, as they were increasingly regarded, by which the soul might be raised above the changing and perish able. Again, the religion of Zoroaster itself had a tendency to modification, as we have seen in tracing out the development of the worship of Mithra. The Greco-Roman religion, especially in Asia Minor and in Egypt, was largely transfused with oriental pantheism, which, with its elastic mythology, would bear any translation. Judaism had not escaped the influence of this wide-spread movement ; even in the land of the prophets, in view of the sanctuary where all the national traditions were deposited, it had breathed the air which had swept over the great forests of India. Essenism was a sort of Jewish Buddhism, which carried into the burning solitudes of the Dead Sea, the same craving for self-annihilation. The philosophy of the time- — that philosophy, at least, which was not satisfied either with Epicureanism, or with the universal scepticism of the new Academy — endeavoured to reduce this naturalistic Pantheism to a system, and it had at its disposal the marvellous instrument of the logic of Plato and Aristotle, the bequest to it of the great classic school. We have already described elsewhere, the great Alexandrine movement, which issued in Neo-Platonism, and which may be regarded as parallel with Gnosticism, since it sprang from the same influences, and reveals the same ten dency. This is to Platonism what Gnosticism is to Christianity, with this difference : that the system of 14 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. Plato lent itself far more readily than the Gospel to such an interpretation, because of the oriental element which so strongly pervaded it ; nothing was needed, but the withdrawal of the moral character, to transform it into a purely Asiatic theosophy. Plutarch himself belonged to the same school. This son of Greece, who seems to have made it his task to collect assiduously all the treasures of the East, is in reality a deserter from the West, who has retained only the glorious memories and the luminous language of his country. From a philosophical point of view, he is in truth a perfect Eastern. The true God is to him a God hidden, incom prehensible, whom no creature can know, so much so that a mediating divinity, symbolised in his view by the goddess Isis, was necessary to effect the organisa tion of matter. The soul attains to the Deity only by means of ecstacy or contemplation, thus emancipating itself from all that is corporeal.* We know what development Plutarch gave to the theory of secondary deities and of demons. Even the Stoics, those apostles of stern resistance, who seem at the very antipodes of the despotic East, did not fail to work out, in their own way, the theme of pantheistic naturalism, and to supply elements for the lucubrations of Gnosticism. By uniting matter and reason in the first principle of things, they opened the way for all the combinations of the doctrine of emanation. But the great precursor of Gnosticism was Philo, who, himself the adherent of a monotheistic religion — the very religion which had prepared the way for Christianity — was obliged to * Ritter, " Histoire de la Philosophie Ancienne," Tissot's transla tion, Vol. IV. pp. 416, 417. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 15 submit his creed, as a Jew, to the same process of elaboration, which was necessary for translating the Gospel into an oriental theosophy. It is needless for us to dwell here upon a doctrine, the principal outlines of which we have already traced. Starting from the idea of a hidden, incomprehensible God, who has no contact with the finite, it developed most pro minently the theory of intermediary divinities, who, by means of emanation, were able to produce the lower world, which the supreme God could not even touch. This was the world of the Word, or of ideas, which never reaches the reality of personal existence, notwith standing all the striking and sublime metaphors of Philo. His final goal, like that of the whole East, was asceti cism ; he would that " as the cicada feeds on the dew, so the soul should live by ecstacy." In vain did he exhaust the sacred texts, and borrow from the Old Testament its most lofty images ; he none the less belied its essence, by substituting salvation by means of knowledge and contemplation, for the moral recon ciliation proclaimed in doctrine and figure, by all the voices of the prophets. The system of Philo was a true Jewish Gnosticism ; and in combination with the various elements we have rapidly indicated, it reappears substantially in all the various forms of Gnosticism. If we seek to distinguish in these various forms the several constituent elements, we discover the three great schools of thought of the period — Hellenism, Orientalism, and Christianity. From the first of these, Gnosticism derived its name, and that purely intel lectual character which reduces religion to a mere speculation of the reason. From the second, it borrowed l6 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. its pantheistic naturalism, full of a sombre sadness and a bitter despair. From the third, it derived, in a changed and mutilated form, the notion of redemp tion; and this is the distinguishing point between Christian Gnosticism and the Gnosticism of Philo. We are conscious that the great crisis of the Gospel has intervened between the two doctrines : it is no longer possible to rest satisfied with a simple expla nation of the universe, such as is given in the books of the Alexandrine Jew. The work of Christ has produced a great convulsion in the minds of men. It must, at any cost, find a place in a system which makes any claim to interpret the Gospel, and if that system still bears the blemish of an ineffaceable Pan theism, it must spend its strength in vain efforts to despoil the religion of Jove and liberty of its true cha racter. Redemption must be treated as Philo treated the free creation ; it must be reduced to a mere cos- mological fact. Before entering on the classification and exposition of the various systems of Gnosticism, we must first point out two general principles common to them all. They all incline to Docetism ; they have a tendency to resolve a tangible reality into a mere semblance (Aoga). This is a natural consequence of the prin ciples of dualism. Associating evil with the corporeal element, they cannot admit that the Redeemer can have had any true contact with matter; they hold that He can only have assumed a seeming, impalpable, finer than aerial form, the shadow of a shade. Neither the incarnation, nor the crucifixion can enter as actual facts into the Gnostic theory. Nor is it the corporeal BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 17 element alone which is opposed to the absolute good ; all that is finite, limited, transitory, is placed in the same category. Contingent realities are of no value ; individual beings are as the foam formed on the ocean and melting into it again. The one essential is the idea, the knowledge, the key of the universal enigma ; history is but its fluctuating, fleeting expression. Hence the second trait, common to all Gnostic systems, the contempt of history, which becomes a sort of parable or mythology, designed to translate the ideal world into visible symbols. This explains the really wild licence of Gnostic symbolism. It imagines it has exalted the Gospel, because it has given it an illimitable sphere, and made the universe its arena ; it does not see that it has lowered it by all the distance which separates the moral from the physical; since it reduces it to a mere theogony after the manner of Hesiod. Not only does it appropriate the facts in order to mould them at its will, but it takes no less liberty with the texts, by means of a perpetual system of allegorising, which gives full play to the imagination. When words are treated merely as the medium of preconceived ideas, they lend themselves to every invention of the mind ; they may be played with like the pieces on a draught-board. In employing so arbitrary an exegesis, the Gnostics, as Irenaeus complained, " tore the truth limb from limb."* "They are," he adds, "like a man, who, possessing the likeness of a king made by a great artist with precious stones, should remove those pre cious stones, and, readjusting them, should clumsily * Avovtcc to. pk\ri Trie akriOtiag. (" Contra Hseres.," I. I.) 3 l8 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. produce the image of a fox or of a dog, all the while pretending to have preserved the noble outline, because the same jewels still sparkle before our eyes." Faithful to the eclecticism of the time, Gnosticism gathered symbols and allegories on all hands ; it drew from Pagan sources no less than from the sacred books of the Jews and the Christians. The fundamental theme of all these systems is the production of finite and contingent existence by means of emanation, or again by the blending of the Divine principle with eternal matter ; the multiplied lives thus generated all return to the original unity; the Divine spark within them seeks its source again. Between the sphere of the Divine and the sphere of matter, lies the region of the intermediary powers, which serve as links between the two worlds ; this is the region of the psychical. Naturalistic Pantheism has an infinite variety of forms, but these are its fundamental principles. The main symbols designed to embody this universal element of Gnosticism may be classed under a few dominant types. The religions of Nature first of all deified the stars, because of the great influence they exert upon our planet; the sun was long the great divinity of Asia, the burning focus, as it were, whence emanated both death and life. The sidereal myths also play an important part in Gnosticism ; the stars represent in that system the inferior gods presiding over the world of change and of matter. Number is the most elementary and obvious principle of order and harmony in the life of Nature ; it expresses the measure and almost the idea itself. Oriental Paganism BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. ig was led into the complicated calculations of astrology, whence it thought itself capable of deducing the law of our destinies. Pythagorean philosophy was entirely constructed on this basis. We shall see how the Gnostics have developed that which may be called the mythology of numbers, and what place was occupied in their systems by the Ogdoas, the Hebdomas, and all the numerical combinations. Anthropomorphism is the most natural of all symbols ; hence it filled a prominent place in almost all idolatrous religions, long before it received the brilliant and poetic transfor mation of Greek humanism. Pantheistic naturalism, moreover, may be said to be perpetually under the spell of a voluptuous enchantment ; it gravitates altogether towards material pleasures, and delights in representing these to itself by the coarsest symbols. Transferring the relations of the sexes to the sphere of the gods, it always conceives of its divinities by couples or Syzygice. Whatever attempts are made to refine it in the course of ages, it undergoes no true change. It reappears in the so-called Christian Gnosticism with the same tendencies, filling the void regions of the absolute with those sensual conceptions which had degraded all the ancient mythologies; nor does Gnosticism scruple yet further to draw largely from these mythologies, both from the pure and impure, to enrich and adorn its allegories. From Judaism it borrows the ladder of light, on which the angels ascend and descend, setting up, in the immensities of space, that scale of emanations, which reaches from the infinite heights of silence down to the manifold forms of material existence. The Old Testament also 3* 20 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. supplies elements for its unworthy travesty of the God who formed our world and all the lower orders of beings which live on the dust of the earth. The notion of redemption, not less distorted than that of creation, is taken from the Gospel, and the history of Jesus becomes the most fruitful and also the most strangely falsified of the Gnostic symbols.* Thus the four principal sources of the symbolism of the Gnostics are astrology, numerical combinations, anthropomorphism, and the history of religions. Such, in its general characteristics, is the language used in the schools, which are at the same time sanctuaries, for the symbols are not mere metaphors ; they are accepted literally; the heated imagination lays hold of them ; the mind surrendered to unhealthy excitement, no longer distinguishes between the con ventional sign and the thing signified ; Gnosticism believes in the sign, as the Canaanite believed in his Baal, and the Egyptian in his bull Apis. Many attempts have been made to classify rigorously the various Gnostic systems. Some have sought the principle by which to distinguish them in their historical and national origin ;t but in an age of universal syn cretism, when all barriers were broken down, a difference of nationality did not suffice to constitute a difference of tendency, so much the less as Gnosticism only came into being in countries which were all alike under the influence of the East. Others, identifying Gnosticism with the philosophy of religion, have * See Baur's " Die Christliche Gnosis," on this symbolism of Gnosticism, pp. 230-240. | This is the theory of M. Matter's learned work. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 21 divided it into three principal schools, according to the place assigned by each to one of the three great forms of the religion of the past. We have first the systems, like those of Basilides and Valentinus, which acknow ledged some kind of legitimacy in the old faiths, and a gradual evolution of the religious consciousness. Next come those which accept only one form of the ancient religions, namely, Judaism ; this is the Gnos ticism of the Clementines. Lastly, we have the doctrine of the Ophites, and the far higher teaching of Mar- cion, who holds that truth finds its final expression in Jesus Christ, and that all that went before was but frightful error.* This classification errs by considering Gnosticism too exclusively as a philosophical move ment, and not enough as a combination of religion and speculation. The most reasonable division of the Gnostic systems seems to us that which takes as its basis the position assumed by them towards the God of the Old Testament. t The question is twofold. It comprehends not only the degree of respect with which the revelations and institutions of Judaism are regarded, but also the more or less absolute character of the dualism of the system. In truth, the God of the Old Testament is the God who created the heavens and the earth. If He is regarded not as a God hostile to the supreme Deity, but simply as a subordinate divinity, as in the " Timasus" of Plato, the world which is His creation is not under the ban of a positive curse ; there is still something good in it ; its history, before Christ, is * This is Baurt classification. (" Die Christliche Gnosis," 97-121. f This is Neandei^s classification. (" Genetische Entwickelung der Vornehmsten Gnostischen Systeme, Kirchengeschichte," p. 430.) 22 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. not of necessity a tissue of unrelieved and unmitigated evil. On the other hand, if the God who created the earth and the heavens, is a God absolutely evil, and at war with the higher world, then creation is in itself a curse, and His reign is but the continuous evolution of evil. In the former systems, the world is not the product of an eternal principle, opposed to the supreme Being ; it is itself contained in the depths of the primal abyss ; it is produced, doubtless, by a series of down ward steps, but obviously it is not in itself absolutely evil, as it is in the second class of Gnostic systems, in which it is treated as the issue of a principle eternally distinct from the supreme Deity. We see that the notion of the Creator God, or the Demiurgos, marks with great distinctness the line of demarcation between the various schools, although there is no radical difference between them, because no Gnostic school recognises a free creation. § I. The Gnostics of the First School. Valentinus and his Followers. In this sketch of Gnosticism, we pass by scarcely- developed systems, like that of Basilides, which compare the first principle to a confused germ, from which all the various substances are successively evolved by a sort of mysterious disintegration. With Valentinus, Gnosticism assumes the form of a complete system, coherent in all its parts ; the fusion between the Christian and Pagan elements is effected with profound art. All the lines of revelation are pro longed into indefinite perspective ; behind the foreground BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 23 of the Gospel narrative, extends a radiant and receding distance, which affects the mind, and especially the imagination, with a sense of dizziness. The Christian consciousness is indeed soon able to dispel the illusion ; it is not slow to recognise that this brilliant metaphy sical vista minifies that which it pretends to magnify, since it destroys the distinction between the creation and the Creator; but let that voice of the Christian soul be but silent, and the illusion is complete. It is easy to understand how, from these giddy heights, the son of the East or of Egypt might look down with pitying contempt on the doctrine of the Church, with its sharply-drawn and simple outlines. Valentinus knew how to cast over his philosophy the veil of a false and flowery poetry, in perfect harmony with the taste of an age of decline, which could no longer appreciate the pure and quiet beauty of high art. In the same manner, he transfused into all his teaching, that sense of the bitter and tragic in existence, which was the distinctive feature of the Roman decadence ; the over whelming sadness of this period of universal decline, which seemed to close for ever the age of strength and health and youth, embodied itself in cunning symbols, and lent to them a morbid charm. Valentinus was, after his manner, a great lyric poet, expressing the sorrows of his time in the eccentric form which pleased him best. Moreover, all this sadness might be lightly accepted, because it did not lead to humility, nor call for repentance ; it left erect the great idol of Paganism — humanity, which could behold itself deified upon the naked summits of the Valentinian metaphysics, no less than upon the golden heights of Olympus. Man 24 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. was still set forth as the most perfect realisation of the divine ; the fall was only a necessary transition from the divine infinite to the human finite ; redemption required neither repentance nor sacrifice, but simply the return of the finite to the infinite, and especially the knowledge of that return, which is Gnosticism. Salvation is then here also a matter of knowledge. The Pagan of yesterday might find such a reconstruction of his theories cheap, and easier a hundred times than the inward renewal, the baptism of water and fire, which begins with penitent tears, and is perfected under the consuming action of the spirit of holiness. It was more convenient, while, at the same time, it seemed more poetical, to transfer the drama of redemp tion to the realms of the infinite, than to give it our sinful earth as its theatre, and as its actors free moral beings, called to a death to self at the foot of the Cross. We know but little about Valentinus himself. Ac cording to Epiphanius, he was a native of the shores of Egypt,* and received his philosophical training at Alexandria. Thence he is supposed to have come to Rome under Antoninus Pius, and only established himself as the head of a school in Cyprus. Tertullian asserts that he sought the episcopate, and that the check given to his ambition drove him into the ranks of the enemies of the Church. There is nothing to sustain this accusation, which the fiery African may easily have accepted in the heat of passion. There is no necessity for assigning petty spleen as the cause of the direction taken by the mind of Valentinus. He followed what has been one of the most enticing tracks * Epiphanius, "Contra Hseres.," I. 31. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 25 of speculation in all ages, and was led into it by the bent of his own genius. There is no injustice in ac cusing him of a lofty pride of intellect. The textual fragment of one of his letters, which Epiphanius has preserved, breathes the most arrogant contempt for simple faith. " I come to speak to you," he says, "of things ineffable, secret, higher than the heavens, which cannot be understood by principalities or powers, nor by anything beneath, nor by any creature, unless it be by those whose intelligence can know no change."* We can fancy we see this man, as Tertullian shows him to us, knitting his brow, and saying, with an air of mystery, " This is profound. "t The doctrine of Valentinus is far more easily epito mised than that of most of the Gnostics, because it forms one systematic whole, J It is not, properly speaking, dualistic, since his great aim is to show by what process of degeneracy, matter proceeds from the first principle ; it is also moderate in its estimate of Judaism and of its God, and consequently in the sentence it passes upon creation. It is Platonist rather than Aristotelian, for it attaches great importance to the ideal world. Human history, before it is enacted * Epiphanius, "Contra Ha^res., adv. Valentin.," I. 31. f " Hoc altum est." (Tertullian, " Adv. Valentin.," I. 37.) | The first book of Irenffius' treatise, "Contra Haeres.," is an important authority, as is also the passage of Epiphanius (I. 31), and that of Theodoret, which is very clear. But the " Philosophoumena" (VI. 29-39) supply on this point also the desiderated light with a distinctness that leaves nothing to be desired. Naturally, the exponents of the Valentinian system, who were not able to avail themselves of this incomparable authority, must be henceforth inadequate, though much may be gained from the works of Baur and Neander, already quoted. 26 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. in our world of mire and darkness, is unfolded in the higher sphere of the ideal. The tragedy of existence is played in three acts: first, in the highest region, which is called the Pleroma; then in the intermediate sphere ; and lastly, upon earth. It is in substance the same drama throughout ; since it always treats of the trouble under which the universe groans, by reason of the aspiration of the finite after the infinite, trouble which resolves itself into the universal harmony, of which knowledge is the master-key; it is Gnosticism which reveals to every creature his true rank and destiny. The originality of the Valentinian teaching consists in its having depicted, with impassioned elo quence, the agony and ardent yearning of creatures separated from the absolute principle of their being, and in its having thus brought the pantheistic theosophy as close as possible to the idea of redemption, while yet failing to reach it. It is strange to see a system, idealist at its commencement, yielding to the influence of the grossest mythologies of the East, to such a degree as to borrow from them the. idea of those pairings, or Syzygics, which in these occupy such a conspicuous place; nor is even the semblance of a metaphor retained ; the allegory is carried to its furthest limits, and offers dangerous food for sensual imaginations. Thus the most purely ethereal and the most coarsely material elements are blended in these half-philosophical, half-legendary conceptions. The principle of all things — the Immortal, the Inef fable, He who deserves the name of Father in the absolute sense — is an unfathomable abyss.* He is * Movae ayivvriToe atydaproQ, yovt/ios irarfip. (" Phil.," VI. 29.) BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 27 linked neither to space nor time ; He is above all thought, and, as it were, shut up within Himself. Around Him is eternal silence. The Father is not willing to remain in solitude, for He is all love, and love can only exist where it has an object.* Thus He produced by emanation the Intellect and the Truth. The Intellect is the consciousness which the Father has of Himself; it is the only Son, His living image, who alone makes known the Father. The Intellect is at the same time the Truth, because of this identity. The Intellect and the Truth produce the Word and the Life. This is the great quaternion of the absolute. The Intellect finds its perfect expression in .the Word; that expression is not a mere symbol, since it is also the Life. The Word and the Life produce Man and the Church. What does this mean, if not that the absolute can only be fully manifested in humanity ? The transcendently divine blends with the essentially human. The Intellect and the Truth produce for the glory of the Father ten emanations, which are called JEons or Eternities. The Word and the Life produce twelve emanations, a number less perfect than the ten. The supernal sphere of the Pleroma is then complete. t Thus there rises into the infinite that ladder of emana tions which Tertullian called, in his powerful language, the gemonicz of the Deity. \ Even into this highest and ideal sphere, discord enters. This is inevitable, unless perfect equilibrium be maintained between the twofold force which animates the Mons, which are, on the one hand, drawn towards their centre — that is, * 'Ayairri r)v o\o£, r) Se aycmr) ovk eanv &ycmr), lav fir) r] 7-0 ayaTriifUvov. ("Phil.," VI. 39.) + Ibid. VI. 30. { Tertullian, "Adv. Valentin.," I. 36. 28 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. to the abyss from which they spring ; and, on the other hand, are subject to the centrifugal power of projection or emanation. They proceed from the infinite and tend to it, yet they are not the infinite, and are not to be confounded with it. The moment that the equili brium of the two forces ceases, the harmony of the Pleroma is broken. This catastrophe is brought about by the last of the twelve yEons, produced by the Word and the Life, which is the twenty-eighth emanation. This /Eon, finding herself on the confines of the region of light, is consumed with the desire to be reunited to the Father ; she is not content with the portion of the divine essence which has been allotted to her as her share ; she compares it with the infinite, the absolute, and deems it a poor and miserable heritage ; she aspires therefore to lose herself in the silent abyss of the first principle. This last of the /Eons of the Pleroma, which is called Sophia, or Wisdom, has yet larger ambitions ; she is desirous, in imitation of the first principle, to become herself a producer, but to produce alone, without the aid of the /Eon, which forms with her a Syzygia, or divine couple.* But the uncreated can alone produce under such conditions ; for all inferior orders of being, two elements are required for the production of anything — the feminine element, or the vague and formless substance, and the masculine or formative element. t Hence the necessity of Syzygia. Now, the Sophia is the feminine /Eon. She is therefore capable of producing only a formless being — an abor- * 'H0£Xt)p.aroa KapiroQ 6 'Irjaovg. (Ibid., VI. 32.) 30 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. prehends three worlds, like the poem of Dante, and which only reproduces the same drama under different forms. Let us attempt to translate all this ontological mythology into the exact style of metaphysics, bearing in mind that Gnosticism never separated ideas from the legendary tissue in which it embodied them. The absolute must necessarily emerge from its state of immobility ; a hidden principle is at work in the dark abyss, and elicits from it the universal life, which developes itself by successive stages. But this mani festation of the absolute issues of necessity in an imperfect life ; from this fatal imperfection results a sorrowful yearning after the infinite, and this aspiration only finds its goal and satisfaction in the knowledge of the eternal and normal relation of all beings with the absolute, as derived from it, and still constituting a part of it. The absolute is found again in them, or rather they are found in it ; it follows that the finite and imperfect existence appears in the brightness of the Pleroma, "like a little spot upon a white tunic." Thus salvation in this higher sphere of life proceeds from knowledge {gnosis). The Christ is the deter mining, formative power, the revealer by pre-eminence. Let us pass on to the second act which is played in the vague regions bordering on the Pleroma. Here the poetic and metaphysical genius of Valentinus is most fully manifested. Creation and redemption are one and the same to him, for our world was only produced for the consolation and restoration of that unhappy son of Wisdom who, cut off from the region of light, yet could not lose the recollection of it. The BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 31 Christ of the Pleroma, and the Holy Spirit, have left him to himself, after giving him a definite form ; he cannot be consoled for the loss of that bright vision ; the sweet fragrance of their presence abides with him, and he cries with tears for their return. The Sophia of the Pleroma has communicated all the fire which consumed her to Achamoth, that shape less product of her daring aspirations ; he again, following her example, darts upwards towards the infinite, painfully beating his wings against the im passable boundary, and crying out passionately for the Divine light and life.* He is the meanest creature upon our world, and yet there is none more noble by reason of his ardent longing after God, and that ceaseless, sacred yearning which will not let him rest. Sometimes a bright smile breaks through his tears ; it comes at the recollection of the brief glimpse that was granted him of the Pleroma. t How can we fail to recognise in him, the image or personification of that race of fallen gods who, as they move on earth, carry with them the memory of their heavenly origin ? Never was the exile of the soul, the daughter of the light, described in grander poetry. Our world is born of the agonies of Achamoth ; of these the tissue of earthly existence is woven ; his broken heart throbs in all nature. Hence the universal sigh which seems to swell the bosom of earth as sobs upheave the heart of a weeping child. The Pleroma has compassion on Achamoth. It * 'EXv7ri)dri Kai iv awop'ia iyivsTO. (" Phil.," VI. 32.) f All that relates to the sadness of Achamoth is fully treated by Irenaeus. (" Contra Ha?res.," I. chap. 1, edit. Feuardentius, p. 20.) HoTt [ikv iicXatE ttoH 8' av k&Xlv BtpoGuTO, ttotb tftf^aro KaL i[tXa. 32 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. sends him Jesus, or the Saviour — that blessed fruit of its own harmony. Jesus delivers Achamoth from the burden of his griefs, and after having drawn these from his breast, he gives them the form of a concrete substance. Thus is produced the lower world, which will become in its turn the scene of the same sorrows and deliverances as the two higher regions. The sombre sadness of Achamoth becomes the material element; his despair is the dernonaical essence; his fear and aspiration give birth to the intermediate or psychical element, which is neither matter nor spirit.* Nothing could be more ingenious than this attempt to resolve the dualism, which had so long weighed upon the thought of the ancients, by means of this sort of crystallisation or petrifaction of the feelings of the exiled /Eon. According to Irenasus, Valentinus carried this poetical theory of the creation still further. The streams and fountains which we behold are the tears of Achamoth, while the soft light which gladdens us is the radiation of his joy, when he recalls the visit of the heavenly emanations. t The Demiurgos has a place in this system ; he is born of the terror of the /Eon, the salutary fear which is the beginning of wisdom, since it accompanies the ardent supplication which is granted by the Pleroma. While Achamoth occupies the Ogdoas, or the heavenly Jerusalem, the Demiurgos is consigned to the Hebdomas, composed of seven gods, which are themselves seven /Eons. These symbolical figures mark the difference of the * 'Ettoiijow iKaTr)vai ra irdQjj air avrrjg Kai BTroirjo-cv avra ii7roe. ("Phil.," vi. jj.) t Ibid., vi. 33. t Ibid., vi. 34. 4 34 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. schools, however, admitted the miraculous birth of the Saviour. Messiah passed through the womb of Mary, " as water through a channel."* He enlightened the Demi urgus as to the existence of the Pleroma, and then carried the true light to the spiritual portion of mankind, which was destined to receive it. Achamoth sees the gates of everlasting light open before him, and forgets his long distress. The Demiurgus takes his place in the Ogdoas; the spiritual men — the true Gnostics — united to the beings emanated from Acha moth, are delivered for ever from that which is perishable, and enter into the ineffable blessedness of the Pleroma. Matter vanishes, consumed by fire. It is no longer more than a shadow upon the bright substance of supreme felicity.t In all the schools of Gnosticism we see that illumination is the substitute for redemption. Sacrifice, in any true sense, has no place where sin has no reality. Everything hinges on the relations of the finite with the infinite, and not on those of the moral creature with the Holy God. Thus all this brilliant metaphysical speculation is hung over an empty place ; it issues in a hopeless fatalism, in an absolute and capricious predestination, which limits salvation to the chosen ones of Wisdom, the sons of light. It is indeed worthy of observation, that predestination made its first appearance in Christianity under the garb of heresy. It was the very soul of Gnosticism. "The Valentinians," says Irengeus, "feel themselves under no necessity to attain by * Ttyivvr)Tai 6 'Iqcrofe ' Sid Napiag. (" Phil.," vi. 35.) 'lr]aovv ha Mapiag we did cuXijvog. (Epiphanius, " Contra Ha;res.," 31.) f " Phil.," vi. 36. BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 35 their deeds to the spiritual nature ; they possess it inherently, and regard themselves as perfectly saved by divine right. Just as gold, which has been buried in clay, does not thus forfeit its beauty, but retains its true nature unalloyed, so do these men receive no hurt from all the sensual indulgences which they allow themselves, but preserve their spiritual essence."* The Old Testament, and the God whom it reveals, are not treated by Valentinus with much reverence. The Demiurgus, however, sins only through ignorance ; he possesses a relative truth. He himself is to be raised to the borders of the Pleroma. There is not, then, positive and absolute opposition between the two Testaments, notwithstanding the scorn of the sect with regard to Hebrew prophecy. So bold and poetical a system as that of Valentinus, opened a large career for inventive and subtle imagina tions. The fundamental theme was variously modified, according to the caprice of each. We need not enter in detail into these idle vagaries of the mind, carried about by every passing wind, without the steadying ballast of the moral life. Among the chief disciples of Valentinus, may be named Bardesanes .of Edessa, Marcus, Ptolemy, and Heracleon. These confined themselves to making variations on the theme of these tortuous metaplvysics. These systems passed by the most sublime and original portion of the doctrine of Valentinus, that which relates to the fall and the aspirations of Achamoth, that child of Wisdom placed on the borders of the Pleroma, as the poetical * M>) Sid Trpdifcog aXXd Sid to fvaei TrvsvpariKoii; dvai. (Irena?us, I. I. p. 26.) 4* 36 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. personification of our fall, and who is ever divided between bitter memories and ardent longings. This gap is filled by a curious anonymous document in the Coptic language, lately discovered. The date is doubtful ; it evidently belongs to the period when Valentinian Gnosticism had reached its full develop ment, — about the close, therefore, of the second century. It is entitled " Pistis Sophia," the Believing Wisdom.* The general dogmas of the Valentinian system are found in it, though half buried in a luxurious and monotonous vegetation. The theme is always the same — a gnosis, or hidden doctrine, which brings salvation by simple illumination. Jesus Christ returns from the heavens into which He had reascended, and appears to His disciples on the Mount of Olives, to reveal to them the sublime mysteries of the truth. They form around Him the inner and privileged circle pf the spiritual ones, whose charge it is to transmit this hidden manna to the pneumatic men of future generations. All these revelations revolve around the destiny of Sophia, who here symbolises, far more clearly than among the early Valentinians, the melan choly condition of the human soul, which, as the punishment for having sought to overpass the limits of its original sphere, is tormented by the cosmical powers, among which we recognise the Demiurgus. He produces, by emanation, a terrible power with a lion face, which, surrounded by other similar emanations, terrifies the noble and ardent exiled Sophia, even in the dark regions of matter, flashing before her * "Pistis Sophia." "Opus gnosticum e codice manuscripto coptico latine vertit Schwartz." (Ed. I. H. Petermann, Berlin, 1853.) BOOK I. — GNOSTICISM. 37 eyes a false and misguiding brightness1. Nevertheless, she does not lose courage ; she still hopes and believes. Hence she deserves the name of the Believing Wisdom. Twelve times she invokes the Deliverer in strains of passionate and truly sublime supplication ; these are her twelve repentances.* Her deliverance is accomplished by means of an equal number of inter ventions on the part of Jesus. As the fall, or sin, is nothing more than an obscuration produced by matter, so salvation is simply a return to the light. This division of the lamentations of Sophia and the interventions of Jesus, produces a wearisome amount of repetition ; the aspirations of the soul are, however, rendered with a force, all the more poetic, because so largely derived from the Old Testament. In particular, all the penitential Psalms are applied to Sophia, being wrested from their natural meaning. " 0 Light of lights," she exclaims, " thou whom I have seen from the beginning, listen to the cry of my repenting. t Save me, 0 Light, from my own thoughts, which are evil. I have fallen into the infernal regions. False lights have led me astray, and now I am lost in these chaotic depths. I cannot spread my wings and return to my place, for the evil powers sent forth by my enemy, and most of all this lion-faced power, hold me captive. I have cried for help, but my voice dies in the night. I have lifted up my eyes to the heights, that thou mayest come to my aid, O Light. * "Nunc cujus Trvevfia alacre, progreditor, ut dicat solutionem duodecimal ptrdvoiaQ Trio-reuig o-oTos tlvai fiepog rr)v iv dvBptairoig Tpvxr)v, tov Si OKorovg to auifia. (Ibid., v. 49.) 'Opi&Tai Kai ipvxnv awaaav tivai fitpiSog tov dyaOov tfCbfia Kai aapKa rr)g iiXjj. (Tit. Botsra, Lib. i. 69. Comp. St. Augustine, "Contra Julian.," iii. 185, ddit. Migne, x. 1325.) BOOK I. — MANICH^EISM. 67 The tree of knowledge of good and evil is called Jesus.* Is it not in truth the emblem of salvation, since it gives the knowledge which saves the soul ?t Unhappily Eve, under the influence of the demons, leads Adam astray, and wins him over to a life of sensual indulgence. This surrender to the senses is his true fall. The Manichasans assumed towards the Old Testament the attitude of extreme Gnosticism. They used violent animadversions against the God of Israel and His law, which they declared to be implacable ; they saw in His prophets, organs of the spirit of dark ness. The " Dispute of Archelaus" shows that this was one of the fundamental points of their system. J According to Photius, Agapius, the faithful disciple of Mani, openly mocked at Moses and the prophets, and ascribed to the power of evil all that was said or done under the first covenant. The Manichasans explained the death of man by a strange fable, which was a new distortion of the myth of Sophia. They asserted that the powers of darkness, which dwelt in the firma ment, once saw the image of the higher life appearing upon the features of a virgin of celestial beauty. They were at once filled with ardent love for her, and in their painful and impotent efforts to reach her, their sweat and tears fell to the ground, and engendered plagues and mortal sicknesses. Death thus originated in a fervent aspiration baffled. § We can attach no importance to this incoherent legend. It is certain * T6 Si Iv irapaSuaip fVTOv, dvro ion b 'Irfoovg. ("Disput.," Routh, v. 62.) + Ibid., 66. J Hr)v Si TraXaia'v ypa(pr)v KuifiipSei. (Photius, "Codex," 1 79. Comp. Tit. Botsra, iii. p. 36. § " Disput.," Routh, v. 56, 57. 6 * 68 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. that in the view of the Manichseans, death is to man the liberation of the spiritual part, which is carried away by the moon, as by a heavenly vessel, up to the regions of eternal and unclouded light. The waxing of the moon corresponds with the moment when it opens to receive emancipated souls ; its waning marks the time when it has deposited its sacred burden safe in the heavenly haven.* Without recognising moral freedom, Mani requires man to do battle with the material element which lives in him, and to strengthen his spiritual nature. He admits, like other Gnostics, a certain predetermination of nature, which establishes the hierarchy of souls. This .is apparent from the terms in which he addresses himself to a female dis ciple, in whom he recognises the offspring of a divine race.t Salvation, in this system, can only consist in deliverance from the bonds of matter : it is accom plished at the death of every man, by the extinction of all corporeal life. We are to prepare ourselves for it, by a knowledge of the true principles and by asceticism. Mani has expressed very clearly this purely intellectual conception of salvation, in a frag ment of a letter which St. Augustine has preserved. " Thou hast been inundated with light," he writes to an adept of his sect, " by learning to know what thou wast originally, from what class of beings thou dost emanate, by understanding that which mingles itself with all bodies, with all substances, and diffuses • XiXola yap f)roi wop9fitia elvai Xtyu Tovg Svo foio-njpag. (" Disput. " Routh, v. 54.) f " Quia es divinae stirpis fructus." (St. Augustine, " Opus imperfect.," iii. 172. Edit. Migne, x. 1318.) BOOK I. — MANICHiEISM. 69 itself through all species. Just as souls are born of other souls, so does the bodily element proceed from the body. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the spirit is spirit. Spirit is the soul which proceeds from the soul, as the flesh from the flesh."* When redemption is once confounded with the mere evolution of creation, the part of the Saviour neces sarily becomes insignificant. He comes simply to reveal to us the true idea of things, and to stimulate us to saintly self-mortifications ; He is, like Mithra, the spirit of the sun, the primary representative of the luminous principle ; He is that very primeval man, who entered into conflict with darkness, and who was separate from all material life ; His birth and His death alike are but semblances without reality, and His body itself is a phantom. "The nature of light," says Mani, " being simple and true, it could not enter into contact with the material essence. "t In Jesus, the light took the form of flesh, becoming as it were its impalpa ble shadow, but incapable of suffering, for it would be absurd to speak of the crucifixion of the shadow of the flesh. J The Son of light revealed His essence upon the Mount of Transfiguration.! He appeared in human form without being man ; He never knew the humiliation of human birth. || St. Augustine declares in his " Con- * " Splendida reddita es agnoscendo." (Saint Augustine, " Opus imperfect.," iii. 172. Edit. Migne, x. 1318.) f Ov yap ovaiag rf^aTO uapKog dXXd Sfioiu>fj.aTt Kai o~xvi*art oapxbg IcKidaQr). (Fragments of Mani in Fabricius, " Biblioth. Graeca," Vol. viii. p. 315.) \ Fabricius, toe. cit. § Ibid. || "Apparuit quidem in hominis specie nee tamen fuit homo." ("Disput.," Routh, i. 169.) 70 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. fessions," that at the time when he was a Manichasan, he regarded Jesus only as the son of the sun.* The world is destined gradually to lose all that it contains of the divine ; at the end of time the pri meval man will appear ; matter will then be only an inert mass consumed by fire, and the souls which shall have lost their divine substance by succumbing to the flesh, will be confounded with it, while the ascetic saints will triumph in the fulness of divine light. t This cannot be the final utterance of the system, for matter, as it had no beginning, cannot consistently have any end. We may suppose then that the same evolution will recommence, and that this succession of mythical facts represents the successive phases, or to speak more correctly, the permament laws, of uni versal life. It is certain that the doctrine of metem psychosis entered into the Manichasan theory ;| the souls which had not preserved their purity saw await ing them a series of ordeals through which they were to attain final deliverance. The notion of moral free dom, and the idea of providence, were wholly absent from this grossly dualistic system. § Mani supported his doctrine by an exegesis which carried the arbitrary to the furthest limits. We know that he rejected without scruple the whole of the Old Testament. In the New, he did not allow himself to be fettered by anything in the letter ; was he not the Paraclete, the depositary of the higher and final revelations ? He * " Ipsum quoque Salvatorem nostrum tanquam de massa luci- dissimaa molis porrectum ad nostram salutem, ita putabam." " Confess. Sancti August.," Lib. vi. x. 20. Edit. Migne, i. 706. T " Disput.," Routh, v. 67, 68. J Photius, " Codex," 179. § " Tit. Botsra," Lib. ii. p. 101. BOOK I. — MANICHiEISM. 71 adopted Christian words, while he totally altered their meaning.* The sect made use of several apocryphal writings, which it interpreted so as to support its own tenets.t Morality was with the Manichasans identical with asceticism. They professed contempt for a life of laborious industry, and, in this respect, diverged from the oldest traditions of the " Avesta," which re garded fruitful toil in every department as the holy work of Ormuz. The disciple of Mani was to pass through material life without touching anything that enhanced or embellished existence. " When they are about to eat bread," says Epiphanius, " they first pray and pronounce these words : ' I have not gathered in nor ground the grain, neither have I sent it to the mill. Another has done these things, and has brought thee to me. I eat thee without reproaches, for he who reaps shall himself be reaped, and he who sends corn to the mill shall himself be ground to powder.' "J It was not possible to express more clearly the inter diction of all work, lest unwitting injury should be done to the luminous particles diffused throughout the material universe. The sect had two stages of initiation. The mere hearers were not admitted to the sacred mysteries, and might continue their common life.§ The elect, on the contrary, broke all the bonds of society and of marriage, gave themselves up to macerations of the body, and submitted to three rites, * Photius, " Codex," 179. I The Manicheans used chiefly the "Acta Thomas," the HipioSoi of Lucius Charinus, and the "Acti Pauli et Theclae." I Epiphanius, " Hasres.," 66. The union of the sexes was vehe mently denounced. " Disput.," Routh, v. yy. § Augustine, "Epistol. Class.," iv. ep. 136, 2. 72 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. which were the seal of perfectness.* The sign of the mouth indicated pureness of language and abstinence from all animal food ; the sign of the hand implied a renunciation of all manual labour, which might enrich and adorn an accursed world ; and, lastly, the sign of the bosom — signaculum sinus — was a vow of perpetual chastity. The Manichasans regarded baptism as a purification of the defilements of material birth ; it was, however, only in exceptional use among them.t They set apart the Sabbath for fasting. Their great festival was the anniversary of the death of Mani, which they cele brated by a sort of mystic passover. A splendid seat, covered with precious fabrics, was set up in the midst of the building in which they assembled ; this was to bring to mind the teaching of the master and the doc trine of deliverance which he had preached. J The Manichasans had no temples, properly so called; prayer and the singing of hymns constituted a great part of their worship. Their hymns, judging by the fragments which have come down to us, consisted chiefly of brilliant descriptions of the abode of light and of its inhabitants, the children of the sun.§ Such is this system, which exerted a far more im portant influence than is accounted for by its logical or religious value. It presents, with a degree of clear ness which must have contributed to its success, the * " Quas sunt ista signacula ? Oris certe et manuum et sinus." Augustine, " De Morib. Manich.," Lib. ii. c. 10. t Neander, " Kirch. Geschichte," i. p. 568, 569. I Augustine, " Contra Epist. Fondament," c. 8. § See Basnages, work quoted. Vol. ii. p. 701-728. BOOK I. — MANICH^EISM. 73 residue of all the speculative errors, which had from the first attempted to transform Christianity.* It is evident that its triumph would have led to a restora tion of Persian dualism, pure and simple, which would not have differed much from the mysteries of Mithra, and that the Pagan idea, in its most essential element — the glorification of nature — would have been empha tically reasserted by its means. We may observe, in conclusion, that there is no more decisive refutation' of Gnosticism, than the reductio ab absurdum which results from its own free development. * Our exposition of the Manichasan system sufficiently shows how false is the hypothesis on which Baur has based his book on the subject ; namely, that Mani had no thought of connecting his doctrine with Christianity. CHAPTER III. JUDAISING HERESY IN THE SECOND AND THIRD CENTURIES. § I. The Elkesaites and the Ebionites. While nothing could be more untrue to fact than to identify primitive Christianity with Judaism, and to regard as simple progress that which was in reality a vast revolution, it is certain that very close bonds attached the new religion to that of the Old Testa ment, by which it had been initiated and proclaimed. These bonds might be either broken altogether, or clenched so tightly as to arrest all further develop ment, either error being fraught with fatal conse quences. While Gnosticism tends to place a deep gulf between the two Testaments, Judaising heresy seeks to confound them ; but even in its reactionary movement against Gnosticism, it comes under its influence, and produces a strangely deformed and per verted Judaism, upon which has passed the blasting, withering breath of oriental dualism. From the times of the Apostles, there are three distinctly-marked sections in the Judaso-Christian community. The first remains closely attached to the nucleus of apostolic Christianity ; it is, indeed, an im- BOOK I. — JUDAISING HERESY. 75 portant branch of it, and can claim the highest antiquity, for it dates from the upper chamber at Jerusalem ; its representative and head was James, the brother of the Lord, and it continued invariably faithful to the wise and conciliatory decisions of the Council of Jerusalem. It did not cease to live in perfect harmony with that freer section known as the Pauline party, which, after all, represented more faithfully the thought of Christ, by putting the new wine into a new vessel. The second type of Judaso-Christianity is the narrow and intractable Pharisaic school, which was eager to transfer to the Church all the practices and prejudices of Judaism, making circumcision a necessary condition of salva tion, and endeavouring to bring all the converts from paganism into bondage under legal forms. St. Paul had no more determined and deadly enemies than these, either in Galatia or in Greece. The third party was the eclectic school, which, according to the current tendency of the time, mingled oriental with Jewish ideas. At Corinth, as in Crete, at Colosse and at Ephesus, the great Apostle had to contend strenuously against a false spiritualism, which identified evil with matter, forbade marriage, and rejected the resurrection of the body, denying first the resurrection of Jesus Himself. Cerinthus was the fullest exponent of this bastard Judaism, which united and combined the gravest errors of the time ; and we have seen how St. John had this in view in almost all his writings, because it was the gravest danger then threatening the Church. These three schools of Judaso-Christianity reap peared in the second century, but strangely modified 76 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. by the course of events. The destruction of Jerusalem made a still more important revolution in the religious than in the political sphere.* Moderate Judaso- Christianity saw in the overthrow of the Temple, the condemnation of the ancient worship, and began accordingly to seek fusion with the Church composed of Gentile converts. This coalescent movement, which commenced at Pella, where the Christians had taken refuge, went on much more rapidly during the short and violent reign of Barcocheba, who shed in floods the blood of those who were called Nazarenes, and who excited, more even than the Romans, the animosity of the Jewish fanatics. The eclectic faction of Judaso-Christianity only escaped proscription by an adherence to the synagogue, which was equivalent to a rupture with the Church. This rupture was inevi table when, after the building of .ZElia Gapitolina by Adrian, upon the very site of Jerusalem, an imperial decree forbade any adherents of Judaism to dwell in a city, all the local associations of which would have been incitements to revolt. Thus, the Church which quickly established itself in the new city, was com posed, in great part, of Christian converts from paganism; to these a considerable number of Chris tians previously belonging to the Judaising party, attracted by the love of country, joined themselves, abandoning the observance of their ancient worship. The Jewish Christians, who remained faithful to their national customs, no longer had, in the eyes of the Church, the prestige of representing the great tradition of Palestine, since they no longer inhabited sacred * See " Early Years of Christianity," p. 366 and following. BOOK I. — JUDAISING HERESY. 77 soil; moreover, they could no more appeal to the decrees of the Council of Jerusalem, since the de struction of the Temple had in fact abrogated them, rendering impossible the greater part of the obser vances of the ceremonial law, and in particular all that related to the sacrifices. To seek to perpetuate the practice of Judaism under such circumstances, was to transform a transitional measure into a permanent and universal principle. In this way a conflict became inevitable, and observances which had been legitimate a few years before, were transmuted by degrees into positive heresy. The moderate school of Judaso- Christianity was not proscribed, however, till much later, at the time when the union of the Church and the Empire, and the decisions of the first great Councils, superseded liberty by uniformity. The fathers of the fourth and fifth centuries confounded, in one common sentence of reprobation, all the sections of Judaso-Christianity, taking no account of their dif ferences, however important. It was not so in the second and third centuries : moderate Judaso-Chris tianity was still in existence in the time of Justin Martyr, who carefully distinguished it from the second school, which we have called the Pharisaic. If he thought it his own duty to receive circumcision, he nevertheless acknowledged that no such observance was obligatory on the converts from paganism, and, consequently, that it was not indispensable to salvation. Justin declares plainly" that the Judaso-Christian of this school has his part in eternal life as well as other believers. He says : " He will be saved, if 'he does not compel Gentiles by birth, who have been circum- 78 THE EARLY YEARS OF CHRISTIANITY. cised in heart, to observe the Mosaic law."* He speaks differently of the Judaisers, who place all the legal observances above the Gospel. "As for the Jews," says Justin, " who, professing to believe in Christ, would yet compel the converts from paganism to adhere to the whole law of Moses, under pain of perdition, I cannot recognise them as belonging to the Church. "t The name of Nazarenes was given to the moderate Judaso-Christians, but they gradually became con founded with the second school, that from which Justin had distinguished them, and which was cha racterised by its exclusive Judaism. This, in its turn, was, to a large extent, absorbed in the third school, for the reasons we have indicated. Epiphanius, how ever, gives it a separate place, side by side, with the half-Gnostic Ebionites of the " Clementines ;" J it preserved its distinctness, like a little streamlet by the side of a broad current, owing to its peculiar and strongly-marked colour. It involved the Nazarenes in its own condemnation ; so that, in the time of Irenasus, moderate Judaism, which, for a long time, had been regarded as accredited by the Jerusalem Council, ceased to occupy any place in the spot which had been the nursery of the Church.§ That which * 2w0ijtrerat 6 TOiovrog lav pr) roig aXXovg dvBpii-jrovg. . . . irtiQuv dytaviliTai Taitrd avrif (pvXdoaeiv. (Justin, " Dial, contra Tryph.," 47. "Opera," p. 265, 266.) f 'Edv Si oi dwb tov yivovg tov vfifripov mo-TBiteuv XiyovTtg kiri tovtov tov xpiOTOV Ik iravrbg Kara rbv Sid Maiasiog Siarax9ivTa vbpov avayKa^wa' Zfiv roig I9v&v iriGTtvovTag. . . . TovTOvg ovk diroSixopai. (Ibid.) \ Epiphanius, "Advers. Hasres.," 29. Augustine, ", De baptism. contra Donat.," vii. 1, and Jerome, " Ad Esaiam," edit. Migne, iv. 357, speaks also of the Nazarenes. § Irenaeus, in his list of heresies, mentions only the Ebionites confounding the Nazarenes with them. BOOK I. — JUDAISING HERESY. 79 tended most to alienate the Church from Judaso-Chris tianity, was its categorical repudiation of the divinity of Jesus Christ.* It held very extreme millenarian views, and of the Gospels accepted only that of Matthew in the Hebrew text.t The third school — that which is imbued with oriental Gnosticism — excites far more attention, and provokes far more discussion, than the other two sections of Judaso-Christianity, because it is not a mere phantom of the past, reviving an old controversy virtually closed by St. Paul, and at this time practically unimportant. It was in harmony with the spirit of the time, and shared in the favour so readily accorded in that day to everything bearing the impress of theosophy. It arose first in the same countries which had given birth to Essenism, on the grandly desolate shores of the Dead Sea, where everything speaks of sadness and the curse ; — in that desert of Judasa, which, in the language of a great writer, seems to have kept solemn silence ever since it heard the voice of Jehovah. The strange and melancholy sect which had separated from official Mosaism, under the same sense of the overwhelming pressure of existence, which in India produced the fanatic asceticism of the Buddhists, naturally received a fresh impulse, after the terrible calamities of the Roman «Conquest.| These anchorites alone remained * Tltpi xPtaT0^ 4"^-°v &v9p