The history of the origins of Christianity

\ STUDIA IN /

THE LIBRARY

of
VICTORIA UNIVERSITY

Toronto

THE HISTORY

OF THE

ORIGINS OF CHRISTIANITY

II.
THE APOSTLES

BY

IE IR, 1ST IE S T IRy IE IT -A. 3ST ,
Member of the French Academy.

LONDON :

M;ATHIESON & COMPANY,

25, PATERNOSTER SQUARE, E.C,

CONTENTS.

EMHWR/a INTRODUCTION.

CRITICISM OF ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS.
CHAP. A.D.

I. Formation of Beliefs Relative to the
Resurrection of Jesus. — The Appari
tions at Jerusalem . . .33 1
II. Departure of the Disciples from Jeru
salem. — Second Galilean Life of
Jesus 33 15

III. Return of the Apostles to Jerusalem. —

End of the Period of Apparitions 33-34 25

IV. Descent of the Holy Spirit. — Ecstatical

and Prophetical Phenomena . 34 31

V. First Church of Jerusalem ; it is entirely

cenobitical . . . . 35 41

VI. The Conversion of Hellenistic Jews

and of Proselytes . . . 36 55

VII, The Church Considered as an Associa
tion of Poor People — Institution of
the Diaconate, Deaconesses, and
Widows . . . . 86 62

VIII. First Persecution. — Death of Stephen.
— Destruction of the First Church
of Jerusalem . . . 36-37 74

IX. First Missions.— Philip, the Deacon 38 82

X. Conversion of St. Paul. — Ridiculous to
put Paul's Conversion A.D. 38. —
Aretas settles the date as about 84 38 89
XI. Peace and Interior Developments of the

Church of Judea . . . 38-41 103

XII. Foundation of the Church of Antioch . 41 117
XIII. The Idea of an Apostolate to the

Gentiles.— Saint Barnabas . 42-J4 124

XIV. Persecution by Herod Agrippa the First 44 lol
XV. Movements Parallel to Christianity, or

imitated from it. — Simon of Gitton 45 141
XVI. General Progress of Christian Missions 45 149
XVII. State of the World at the Middle of the

First Century . . .45 1G3

XVIII. Religious legislation at this period 45 184

XIX. The Future of Missions . . 45 193

19694

INTRODUCTION,

CRITICISM OF ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS.
THE first book of our history of the Origins of Christianity
has traced the story as far as the death and burial of
Jesus. We must now resume the narrative at the point
where we left it — to wit, Saturday, 4th April, 33. This
will be for some time yet a continuation, in some sort, of the
Life of Jesus. Next, after the months of joyous rapture,
during which the great Founder laid the foundation of a
new order for humanity, these last years were the most
decisive in the history of the world. It is still Jesus, some
sparks of whose sacred fire have been deposited in the
hearts of a few friends who created institutions of the
greatest originality, moves, transforms souls, imprints upon
everything his divine seal. We have to show how, under
this ever active and victorious influence over death, the
faith of the resurrection, the influence of the Holy Spirit,
the gift of tongues, and the power of the Church, estab
lished themselves. We shall describe the organization of
the Church at Jerusalem, its first trials, its first conquests,
the earliest missions which it despatched. We shall follow
Christianity in its rapid progress in Syria, as far as Antioch,
where was formed a second capital, more important in a
sense than that of Jerusalem, which it was destined to sup
plant. In this new centre, where the converted Pagansconsti-
tuted the majority, we shall see Christianity separating itself
definitely from Judaism, and receiving a name of its own ;
we shall see especially the birth of the grand idea of distant
missions, destined to carry the name of Jesus into the world of
the Gentiles. We shall pause at the important moment
when Paul, Barnabas, and John Mark set out for the exe
cution of this great design. There we shall interrupt our
narrative, and cast a glance at the world which those dar
ing missionaries undertook to convert. We shall en
deavour to give an account of the intellectual, political,
religious, and social condition of the Roman Empire about
the year 45, the probable date of the departure of Saint
Paul upon his first mission.

INTRODUCTION,.

Such is the subject-matter of this second book, which we
have entitled, THE APOSTLES, for the reason that it ex
pounds the peiiod of common action during which the
small family created by Jesus acted in concert, and wus
grouped morally around a single point — Jerusalem. Our
next work, the third, will take us out of this company, and
we shall be devoted almost exclusively to the man who,
more than any other, represents conquering and travel
ling Christianity — Saint Paul. Although, from a certain
epoch, he called himself an apostle, Paul had not the same
right to the title as the Twelve ; he is a workman of the
second hour, and almost an intruder. The state in which
historical documents have reached us are at this stage
misleading. As we know infinitely more of the history
of St. Paul than that of the Twelve, as we
possess his authentic writings and original memoirs
detailing minutely certain periods of his life, we assign to
him an importance of the first order, almost exceeding
that of Jesua. This is an error. Paul was a great man ;
in the foundation of Christianity he played a most m
portant part. Still, we must not compare him with
Jesus, nor even with any of the immediate disciples of the
latter. Paul never saw Jesus, nor did he ever taste the
ambrosia of the Galilean preaching. Hence, the most
commonplace man who had had his part of the celestial
manna, was from that very circumstance superior to him
who had only had an after-taste. Nothing can be more
false than an opinion which has become fashionable in
these days, that Paul was really the founder of Christi
anity. The real founder of Christianity was Jesus. The
first places, next to him, ought to be reserved to those
grand and obscure companions of Jesus, to those faithful
and zealous women, who believed in him. despite his death.
Paul was, in the first century, a kind of isolated phe
nomenon. He did not leave an organized school. On the
contrary he left bitter opponents, who strove, after his
death, to banish him from the Church and to place
him, in a sort of way, on the same footing as Simon
Magus. They tried to take away from him that which we
regard as the peculiar work — the conversion of the Gen
tiles. The church of Corinth, which he himself had
founded, claimed to owe its origin to him and to St. Peter

INTRODUCTION. Ill

In the second century Papias and St. Justin never mention
his name. It was later, when oral tradition came to be
regarded as nothing, and when the Scriptures took the
place of everything, that Paul assumed a leading part in
Christian theology. Paul, it was true, had a theology.
Peter and Mary Magdalene had none. Paul left behind
him considerable works : none of the writings of the other
apostles are to be compared with his, either in regard to
their importance or authenticity.

At first glance the documents for the period embraced
in. this volume are rare and altogether insufficent. The
direct testimony is reduced to the first chapters of the
Aets of the Apostles — chapters, the historical value of
which is open to serious objections. Yet, the light which
these last chapters of the Gospels cast upon that obscure
interval, especially the Epistles of St. Paul, dispels, to some
extent, the darkness. An old writing serves to make
known, first, the exact date at which it was composed, and,
secondly, the period which preceded its composition.
Every writing suggests, in fact, retrospective inductions as
to the state of society which produced it. Composed, for
the most part, between the years 53 and 62, the
Epistles of St. Paul are replete with information concern
ing the early years of Christianity. Moreover, seeing
that we are here speaking of great events without precise
dates, the essential point is to show the conditions under
which they formed themselves. On this subject I ought to
remark once for all that the current date inscribed at the
head of each chapter is never more than approximate. The
chronology of these first years has but a very small num
ber of fixed land-marks. i Yet, thanks to the care which
the editor of the Acts has taken, not to interrupt the suc
cession of events ; thanks to the Epistle to the Galatians,
where are to be found some numerical indications of the
greatest value ; and to Josephus, who gives the dates of
events of profane history connected with some facts con
cerning the apostles, we are able to create for the history
of these last a very probable canvas upon which the
chances of error are confined within very narrow limits.

I shall again repeat at the beginning of this book what
I have already said at the beginning of my Life of Jesus.
In histories of that kind, where the general effect alone is

iv INTRODUCTION.

certain, and where almost all the details lend themselves
more or less to doubt, in consequence of the legendary
character of the documents, hypothesis is essential. Upon
periods of which we know nothing no hypothesis is pos
sible. To endeavour to reproduce a group of ancient
sculpture, which has certainly existed, but of which we
possess only a few fragments, and concerning which we
possess scarcely any written account, is an altogether arbi
trary work. But to attempt to recompose the entire build
ing of the Parthenon from what remains to us by the aid of
the ancient text, availing ourselves of the drawing made
in the seventeenth century of all the information possible ;
in one word, inspiring ourselves with the style of those
inimitable fragments, trying to seize their soul and their
life — what can be more legitimate ? We need not boast
of having found the ancient sculptor once more ; but we
have done what we could to approach him. Such a work
is so much the more legitimate in history since language
permits doubtful forms, which marble does not allow.
There is even nothing to prevent the reader from propos
ing a choice between diverse theories. The conscience of
the writer may be easy since he has put forward as cer
tain that which is certain, as probable that which is pro
bable, as possible that which is possible. In those places
where the footing between history and legend is uncertain,
the general effect alone is all that need be sought after.
Our third book, for which we shall have absolutely histo
rical documents, where we shall have to paint characters of
flesh and blood, and to speak of clearly denned facts, will
offer a more definite story. Ifc will be seen, however, that
the character of that period is not known with greater cer
tainty. Absolute facts speak more loudly than biogra
phical details. We know very little of the incomparable
artists who have created these masterpieces of Greek art.
But these masterpieces tell UP more about the personality
of their authors and the public who appreciate them, than
the most circumstantial narratives, and the most authentic
texts could do.

For the knowledge of the decisive events which happened
in the first days after the death of Jesus the authorities
are the last chapters of theGrospels containing the narratives
of the appearance of the resuscitated Christ. 1 need not

INTRODUCTION, V

repeat here what I have said in the Introduction to my
Life of Jesus as to the value of these documents. On that
side we have happily a control which was too often want
ing in the Life of Jesus ; I intend to imply an important
passage of St. Paul (i Cor. XT 5-8), which establishes: 1st
the reality of the appearances ; 2nd, the long duration of
the apparitions as opposed to the narrative of the synop
tical Gospels ; 3rd, the variety of places in which the
apparitions took place in contradiction to Mark and Luke.
The study of this fundamental text, together with other
reasons, confirms us in the views which we have enunciated
as to the reciprocal relation of the Synoptics with the
fourth Gospel. In all that concerns the narrative of the
resurrection and the apparitions, the fourth Gospel main
tains that superiority which it has for all the rest of the
Life of Jesus. If we wish to find a consecutive logical
narrative, which allows that which is hidden behind the
allusions to be conjectured, it is there that we must look
for it. I am approaching the most difficult of the ques
tions connected with the origin of Christianity. " What
is the historic value of the fourth Gospel?" The use
which I have made of it in my Life of Jesus is the point to
which enlightened critics have taken the most objection.
Almost all the scholars who apply the rational method to
the history of theology reject the fourth Gospel as apo
cryphal in every aspect, I have anew reflected much
upon this problem, and I am unable sensibly to modify
my fir&t opinion. Only as I differ on this point from the
general opinion I have thought it necessary to explain in
detail the reasons for my persistency. I intend to make it
the subject of an appendix at the end of a revised and
corrected edition of the Life of Jesus which will shortly
appear.

The Acts of the Apostles are the most important docu
ment for the history which we are about to relate. I ough£
to explain myself here as to the character of that
work, its historical value, and the use which I have
made of it.

The one thing beyond question is that the Acts had the
same author ap the third Gospel, of which they are a con
tinuation. It is not worth while to stop to prove this posi
tion, which, however, has never been disputed. The

B2

VI i INTRODUCTION.

preface at the beginning- of both writings, the dedication
of both to Theophilus, the perfect similarity of style and
of ideas furnish abundant demonstrations in this regard.

A second proposition, which is not quite so self-evident,
but which may be regarded as very probable is, that the
author of the Acts was a disciple of Paul, who accompanied
him during a great part of his journeyings. At the first
glance this proposition appeared indubitable. In many
places beginning with the 10th verse of chapter xvi., the
author in his story makes use of the pronoun " we," indi
cating thus that thenceforward he made one of the company
of Paul. That appears to be beyond question. One issue
only presents itself to destroy the force of this argument :
it is that of supposing that the passages where the pro
noun " we " appears have been copied by the last editor of
the Acts from an earlier manuscript by, for example,
Timothy, and that the editor, out of inadvertence, had
omitted to substitute for " we " the name of the narrator.
This explanation is scarcely admissible. Such an inadvert
ence might easily occur in a vulgar compilation. But the
third Gospel and the Acts are compositions most carefully
edited, composed with reflection, and even with art, written
by the same hand, and according to a deliberate plan. The
two books together form a whole of absolutely the same
style, offering the same favourite locutions, and the same
manner of quoting the Scripture. A blunder of editing so
really shocking as that would be inexplicable. We are
then forced invincibly to conclude that he who wrote the
end of the work wrote the beginning also, and that che
narrator of all is he who wrote ''we" in the passages
mentioned.

This becomes still more striking, if w© note in what cir
cumstances the narrator thus puts himself in company with
Paul. The use of " we " begins at the moment when Paul
goes into Macedonia for the first time (xvi. 10). It ceases
at the moment when Paul leaves Philippi, It is renewed
when Paul, visiting Macedonia for the last time, again goes
by way of Philippi (xx. 5-0.) Thenceforward the narrator
never again separates himself from Paul until the end. If
we further remark that the chapters in wHch the narrator
accompanies the apostle have a specially precise character,
it is impossible to believe that the narrator could have been

INTRODUCTION. vii

a Macedonian, or rather a man of Philippi, who went
before Paul to Troas during his second mission, who re
mained at Philippi after the departure of the apostle, and
who at the last passage of the apostle through that city
(third mission) joined him, not again to leave him. Can
it be understood that an editor, writing at a distance,
could thus have allowed himself to be ruled by the remoni-
brance of another ? Such memories would spoil the unity
of the whole, The narrator who says " we " would have
his own style ; his special expressions ; he would be more
Paulinian than the editor himself. Now that is not so : the
work is perfectly homogeneous.

There will, perhaps, be some surprise that a thesis so
evident should have been contradicted. But criticism of
the writings of the New Testament shows that many
things which appear to be perfectly clear are, upon
examination, full of uncertainty. In the matter of style,
thoughts, and doctrines, the Acts are scarcely what might
be expected from a disciple of Paul. They in no way
resemble his epistles. There is not a trace of the lofty
doctrines which constitute the originality of the Apostle of
the Gentiles. The temperament of Paul is that of a stiff
and self-contained Protestant ; the author of the Acts gives
us the impression of a good Catholic, docile, optimist,
calling every priest a " holy father," every bishop " a
great bishop," ready to swallow any fiction, rather than
believe thit these holy fathers and great bishops quarrel
amongst themselves and often make rude war. Whilst
professing a great admiration for Paul, the author of the
Acts avoids giving him the title of apostle, and is anxious
that the initiative of the conversion of the Gentiles should
belong to Peter. We should say, in short, that he is a
disciple of Peter, rather than of Paul. We shall soon
show that, in two or three circumstances, his principles of
conciliation have led him gravely to falsify the biography
of Paul ; he makes mistakes and omissions of things
which are very strange in a disciple of this last. He does
not mention a single one of his epistles ; he keeps back,
in the most surprising fashion, explanations of the first
importance. Even in the part, where he must have been
the companion of Paul, he is sometimes singularly dry, ill-
informed and dull. In short, the softness and vagueness

Viii INTRODUCTION.

of some of his narratives, the conventionality which may
be discerned in them, suggest to us a writer who had no
personal communication with the apostles, and who wrote
between the years 100 and 120.

Must we insist upon these objections ? I think not, and
I persist in believing that the last editor of the Acts is
really the disciple of Paul who says " we " in the last
chapters. All the difficulties, insoluble though they may
appear, should be, if not set on one side, at least held in
suspense by an argument as decisive as that which results
from this word " we." We may add, that by attributing
the Acts to a companion of Paul, two important peculi
arities are explained : on the one hand, the disproportion
of the work of which more than three-fifths are consecrated
to Paul ; on the other, the disproportion which may be
remarked, even in the biography of Paul himself, whose
first mission is dispatched with great brevity, whilst certain
parts of the second and third missions, especially his last
journey, are told with minute details. A man altogether
a stranger to the apostolic history, would not have exhib
ited these inequalities. His work would have been better
planned as A whole. The.t which distinguishes history
composed from documents, from history written wholly or
in part by an actor in it, is exactly this disproportion :
The historian of the closet takes for his framework the
events themselves ; the author of memoirs takes his recol
lections for his framework, or, at least, his personal
relations. An ecclesiastical historian, a sort of Eusebius,
writing about the year 120, would have bequeathed to us a
book very differently distributed after chapter xiii. The
bizarre fashion in which the Acts at this time leaves the
orbit in which they had revolved until then can, to my
thinking, be explained only by the peculiar situation of
the author and by his relations with Paul. This result
will be naturally confirmed if we find amongst the known
felloe labourers of Paul the name of the author to whom
tradition attributes our writing.

This is in effect what took place. Manuscripts and
tradition assign as the author of the third Gospel a certain
Lucas or Lucanus. From what has been said it is evident
that if Lucas be really the author of the third Gospel, he is
also the author of the Acts. Now we find this Lucas

INTRODUCTION. ix

mentioned precisely as the companion of Paul in the
Epistle to the Oolossians (iv. 14) ; in that to Philemon
(24), and in the n Timothy (iv. 11.) This last Epistle is
of more than doubtful authenticity. The Epistle to the
Colossians and to Philemon on their side, although very
probably authentic, are not, however, the most undoubted
of Paul's Epistles. But these writings are, in any case, of
the first century, and suffice to prove that there was a
Luke amongst the disciples of Paul. The fabricator of
the Epistles to Timothy, in short, is certainly not the
author of those to the Colossians and to Philemon
(supposing, contrary to our opinion, that these last are
apocryphal). To admit that a forger should have attribu
ted an imaginary companion to Paul is to suppose some
thing very improbable. But assuredly different forgers would
not have pitched upon the same name. Two circumstances
give to this reasoning a peculiar force. The first is that
the name of Luke, or Lucanus, is an uncommon one
amongst the early Christians ; the second that the Luke of
the Epistles had no other celebrity. To write a celebrated
name at the top of a document, as is done in the second
Epistle of Peter, and very probably in Paul's Epistles to
Titus and Timothy, was in no way contrary to the habits
of the time. But to write at the top of such a document a
false name, otherwise obscure, is not to be believed. "Was
it the intention of the forger to throw over his book the
authority of Paul ? If it were, why did he not take the
name of Paul himself ? or at least the name of Timothy or
Titus, disciples of the Apostle of the Gentiles, who were
much better known ? Luke scarcely had a place in tra
dition, legend, or history. The three passages of the
Epistles above mentioned are not sufficient to make his
name a generally accepted guarantee. The Epistles to
Timothy were probably written after the Acts. The
mention of Luke in the Epistlee to the Colossians and to
Philemon are equivalent to one only, the two documents
being really but one. We think, therefore, that the author
of the Acts was really Luke, the disciple of Paul.

The very name of Luke, or Lucanus, and the profession
of physician, which the disciple of Paul thus named exer
cised, answer completely to the indications which the two
books furnish as to their author. We have shown in effect

X INTRODUCTION.

that the author of the third Gospel and of the Acts was
probably from Philippi, a Eoman colony, where Latin was
the prevailing language. Further, the author of the
Gospel and of the Acts knew little of Judaism and the
affaire of Palestine ; he scarcely knew Hebrew. He is
abreast of the ideas of the Pagan world, and he writes
Greek with tolerable correctness. The work was composed
far from Judea for the use of people who knew little of its
geography, who cared nothing for either profound
Rabbinical learnings or for Hebrew names. The domin
ant idea of the author is, that if the people had been free
to follow their inclinations they would have embraced
the faith of Jesus, and that it was the Jewish aristo
cracy who prevented them. The word Jew is always used
by him in a bad sense, and as synonymous with enemy of
Christians. On the other hand he shows himself very
favourable to the Samaritan heretics.

What date may we give to the composition of this
important document ? Luke appears for the first time in
company with Paul on the occasion of the first journey of the
apostle to Macedonia, about the year 52. Suppose that
he was then 25 years of age ; there is nothing unnatural
in supposing him to have lived to the year 100. The
narrative of the Acts stops at the year 63. But the
edition of the Acts being evidently later than that of the
third Gospel, and the date of that third Gospel being fixed
with sufficient precision in the years which followed the
destruction of Jerusalem (70), we cannot dream of placing
the production of the Acts earlier than 71 or 72.

If it were certain that the Acts were composed imme
diately after the Gospel we might stop at this point. But
doubt is permissible. Some facts lead to the belief that a
considerable interval passed between the composition of
the third Gospel and that of the Acts. Thus there is a
singular contradiction between the last chapters of the
Gospel and the first of the Acts. According to the former
account the ascension took place on the very day of the
resurrection ; according to the Acts it took place only after
forty days. It is clear that the second version presents
the legend to us in a more advanced form — a form which
was adopted when the need was felt for creating a place
for the various apparitions, and for giving to the life

DTxxtODUCTION.

beyond the tomb of Jesus a complete and logical frame
work. "We are even tempted to suppose that the new
fashion of conceiving things was not told to the author or
did not come into his head except in the interval between
the composition of the two works. In any case it is very
remarkable that the author finds himself compelled to add
new^ circumstances to his first account and to extend it.
If his first book were still in his hands why did he not
make the additions to his first account which, separated as
they ^ are, look so awkward?/ That, however, is not
decisive, and a grave circumstance leads to the belief that
Luke conceived at the same time the plan of both. That
is the preface placed at the head of the Gospel, which
appears Common to the two books. The contradiction we
have pointed out may perhaps be explained by the little
care which was taken to present an accurate account of
the way in which the time was spent. This it is which
makes all the accounts of the life of Jesus after his
resurrection in complete disagreement as to the duration
of that life. So little care was taken to be historical that
the same narrator made no scruple about proposing two
irreconcilable systems in succession. The three accounts
of the conversion of Paul in the Acts present also little
differences, which prove simply that the author did not
trouble himself much about the exactness of the details.

It appears then that we shall be very near the truth in
supposing that the Acts were written about the year 80.
The spirit of the book, in fact, corresponds completely with
the age of the first Flavians. The author carefully avoids
all that can wound the Eomans. He loves to show how
favourable the Eoman authorities were to the new sect ;
how they sometimes even embraced it ; how they at least
defended it against the Jews ; how greatly superior is
imperial justice to the passions of the local powers. He
insists especially on the advantages which Paul owed to
his rights as a Eoman citizen. He abruptly cuts his
narrative short at the moment of the arrival of Paul at
Eome, perhaps in order to avoid the necessity of relating
the cruelties of Nero towards the Christians. The con
trast with the Apocalypse is striking. The Apocalypse,
written in the year 68, is full of the memory of the
iniquities of Nero ; a horrible hatred of Eome overspreads

Xll INTRODUCTION.

it. Here we see a mild man, who lives in a period oi
calm. After about the year 70 until the last years of the
first century, the situation was not altogether unpleasant
for the Christians. Personages of the Flavian family
attached themselves to Christianity. Who knows if Luke
did not know Flavius Clemens, if he were not of his
familia, if the Acts were not written for that powerful
personage, whose official position required caution ? Some
indications have led to the belief that this book was com
posed at Borne. One might have said indeed that the
principles of the Roman Church weighed upon the author.
That Church, from the earliest ages, had the political and
hierarchical character which has always distinguished it.
The good Luke could enter into that spirit. His ideas of
ecclesiastical authority are very advanced: we see the
form of the episcopate sprouting. He writes history in
that tone of an apologist at any cost which is that of the
official historians of the court of Rome. He acts as an
ultramontane historian of Clement XIV would act ; prais
ing at the same time the Pope and the Jesuits, and seeking
to persuade by a narrative full of compunction that both
sides in that debate observed the rules of charity. In
two hundred years it will also be settled that Cardinal
Antonelli and Mgr de Merode loved each other like two
brothers. The author of the Acts was, but with a sim
plicity which will not again be equalled, the first of those
complacent narrators, sanctimoniously satisfied, deter
mined to believe that everything goes on in the Church in
an evangelic fashion. Too loyal to condemn his master
Paul, too orthodox not to share the official opinion which
prevailed, he smoothed over differences of doctrine, to
allow only the common end to be seen — that end which all
these great founders pursued in effect by paths so opposed
and through rivalries so energetic.

We can understand how a man who has placed himself
intentionally in such a disposition of mind, is the least
capable in the world of representing things as they really
happened. Historical fidelity is a matter of indifference to
him ; edification is all he cares for. Luke scarcely conceals
this ; he writes in order that Theophilus may recognise the
truth of what the catechists have taught him. There was
then already a recognised system of ecclesiastical history,

INTRODUCTION, X1U

which was officially taught, and the framework of which,
as well as that of the Gospel history itself, was probably
already settled. The dominant character of the Acts, like
that of the third Gospel, is a tender piety, a lively sympathy
with the Gentiles, a conciliatory spirit, an extreme pre
occupation with the supernatural, love for the humble and
lowly, a grand democratic sentiment, or rather the per
suasion that the people are naturally Christian, that it is
the great who prevent them from following their good in
stincts, an exalted idea of the power of the Church and of
its heads, a remarkable taste for community of life. The
system of composition is the same in both books, so that
we are with respect to the history of the apostles on the same
footing as we should be with regard to the Gospel history
if we had one single text only, the Gospel of Luke.

The disadvantages of such a situation are manifest. The
life of Jesus, as related by the third evangelist alone, would
be extremely defective and incomplete. We know it, be
cause so far as the life of Jesus is concerned, comparison is
possible. Together with Luke we possess (without speak
ing of the fourth Gospel) Matthew and Mark, who, as
compared with Luke, are in part, at least, original. We
can lay a finger on the violent proceedings by means of
which Luke dislocates or mixes up anecdotes, on the way
in which he modifies the colour of certain facts according
to his personal views, of the pious legends which he adds
to the most authentic traditions. Is it not evident that if
we could make such a comparison of the Acts, we should
find faults of a precisely similar description ? The first
chapters of the Acts would even appear, without doubt,
inferior to the third Gospel, for these chapters were proba
bly composed with fewer and less universally accepted
documents.

A fundamental distinction, in fact, is here necessary.
From the point of view of historical value, the book of the
Acts divides itself into two parts ; one, including the first
twelve chapters, and relating the principal facts of the his
tory of the primitive Church ; the other containing the re
maining sixteen chapters, all devoted to the missions of St.
1'aul. That second part includes in itself two distinct
kinds of narrative ; those on the one hand, of which the
narrator gives himself out as eye-witness; on the other, those

XIV INTKODUCTION.

in which, ne relates only what he has been told. It is cleair
that even in the last case his authority is great. Often the
conversations of Paul have furnished his information.
Towards the end, moreover, the narrative assumes an as
tonishing character of precision. The last pages of the
Acts are the only completely historical pages which we
possess of the origins of Christianity. The first, on the con
trary, are those which are most open to attack of all the
New Testament. It is especially in the first years that the
author obeyed impulses like those which preoccupied him in
the composition of his gospel, and even more deceptive.
His system of forty days ; his account of the ascensions,
closing by a species of final carrying off, theatrical
solemnity; the strange life of Jesus; his manner of relating
the descent of the Holy Ghost, and the miraculous preach
ings ; his mode of understanding the gift of tongues, so
different from that of St. Paul, unveil the preoccupation of
a period relatively low when the legend is very ripe, rounded
as it were in all parts. Everything is done with him with
a strange setting and a great display of the marvellous. It
must be remembered that the author wrote half a century
after the events, far from the country where they happened,
concerning incidents which neither he nor his master had
seen, according to traditions in part fabulous or transmog
rified. Not merely is Luke of another generation than the
first founders of Christianity, but he is of another world ;
he is Hellenist with but very little of the Jew, almost a
stranger to Jerusalem and the secrets of the Jewish life ; he
has not touched the primitive Christian society ; he has
scarcely known its last representatives. W© see in the
miracles, which he relates, rather inventions a priori than
transformed facts ; the miracles of Peter and Paul form
two series, which answer each other-. His persons resemble
each other. Peter differs in nothing from Paul, nor
Paul from Peter. The discourses, which he puts into the
mouths of his heroes, though admirably appropriate to the
circumstances, are all in the same style, and belong to the
author rather than to those to whom he attributes them.
We even find impossibilities. The Acts, in a word, are a
dogmatic history, arranged to support the orthodox doc
trine of the time, or to inculcate the 'ideas which seemed
most agreeable to the piety of the author. Let us add

INTRODUCTION. XV

that it could be no otherwise. The origin of every religion
is known only by the narratives 01 the faithful. It is only
scepticism which writes history ad narrandum.

These are not simple suspicions, conjectures of a criti
cism defiant to excess. They are solid inductions ; every
time that we are permitted to examine the narrative of the
Acts, we find it incorrect and unsystematic. The examination
of the Gospels, which can be done only by comparison with
the Synoptics, wo can make with the help of the Epistles
of Paul, especially of the Epistle of Paul to the Galatians.
It is clear that where the Acts and the Epistles clash, the
preference ought always to be given to the Epistles — texts
of an absolute authenticity, more ancient, of a complete
sincerity, and free from legends. In history documents
have the more authority the less they possess of historical
form. The authority of all the chronicles must yield to
that of an inscription, of a medal, of a map, of an authentic
letter. From this point of view, the letters of certain
authors, or of certain dates, are the basis of all the history
of the origins of Christianity. Without them, it might be
paid that doubt would attach to them, and would ruin, from
top to bottom, even the life of Jesus itself. Now, in two
very important particulars, the Epistles put in a striking
light the private tendencies of the author of the Acts, and
his desire to efface all trace of the divisions whicjh. existed
between Paul and the Apostles of Jerusalem.

And first, the author of the Acts sayo that tdul, after
the incident at Damascus (ix, 19 et seq., xxii, 17 et seq.\
having come to Jerusalem at a period when his conversion
was hardly known ; that he was presented to the Apostles ;
that he lived with the Apostles and the faithful on a foot-
ing of the greatest cordiality ; that he disputed publicly
with the Hellenist Jews; that aplot of theirs, and a celestial
revelation, brought about his departure from Jerusalem.
Now Paul tells us that things came about very differently.
To prove that he owed nothing to the Twelve, and that he
received his doctrine and his mission from Jesus, he asserts
(Gal. i., 11 etseq.}, that after his conversion he avoided
taking counsel with anyone whatever, or going to Jeru
salem to those who were apostles before him; that he went
of his own accord, and without commission from anyone,
to preach in Hauran ; that three years later, it is true, lie

XV INTRODUCTION.

accomplished the journey to Jerusalem to make acquaint
ance with Peter ; that he stayed there fifteen days with
him ; but that he saw no other apostle unless it were
James, the Lord's brother, so that his face was unknown
to the churches of Judea. The effort to soften down the
asperities of the rude apostle by presenting him as a fellow
worker with the Twelve, labouring at Jerusalem in con
cert with them, evidently appears here. Jerusalem is made
his capital and point of departure ; it is desired that his
doctrine shall be so identified with that of the apostles,
that he might in some sort replace them in the preaching ;
his first apostolate is reduced to the synagogues of Damas
cus ; he is described as having been disciplo and auditor,
which he certainly never was ; the time between his con
version and his first journey to Jerusalem is materially
abridged ; his stay in that city is prolonged ; he is des •
cribed as preaching there to the general satisfaction ; as
haviug lived intimately with all the apostles, although he
himself says that he saw only two ; the brethren of Jeru
salem are described as watching over him, whilst Paul de
clares that his face was unknown to them.

The desire to make of Paul an assiduous visitor to
Jerusalem, which has led our author to advance and to
prolong his first stay in that city after his conversion,
appears to have induced him to ascribe to the apostle one
journey too many. According to him Paul came to Jeru
salem with Barnabas, b&aring tha offering of the faithful
during the famine of the year 44 (Acts xi. 30, xii. 25).
Now Paul declares expressly tha<? between the journey
which took place three years after his conversion and the
journey about the business of the circumcision, he did not
go to Jerusalem (Gal. i. and ii.) In other words, Paul
formally excludes the idea of any journey between Acts
ix. 26 and Acts xv. 2. If we were to deny, against all
reason, the identity of the journey related Acts xv. 2, et seq
we should not obtain the smallest contradiction. " After
three years," says St. Paul, " I went up to Jerusalem to
see Peter, . . Then fourteen years after I went up
again to Jerusalem with Barnabas." It has been doubted
whether these fourteen years date from the conversion, or
the journey which followed three years after that event.
Let us take the first hypothesis, which is the most favourable

INTRODUCTION.

to those who would defend the account in the Acts. There
would then be eleven years, at least, according to St. Paul,
between his first and his second journey to Jerusalem ; now,
surely there were not eleven years between what is told
Acts ix. 26 et seq. and what is told Acts xi. 30 ! And if
against all probability that hypothesis is maintained, we
find ourselves in the presence of another impossibility. In
fact, what is told in Acts xi. 30 is contemporaneous with the
death of James the son of Zebedee, which furnishes the
only date fixed by the Acts of the Ap&stles, since it pre
ceded by very little the death of Herod Agrippa I. which
happened in the year 44. The second journey of Paul
having taken place at least fourteen years after his conver
sion, if Paul had really made that journey in the year 44,
the conversion would have taken place in the year 30,
which is absurd. It is, therefore, impossible to maintain
for the journey related Acts xi. 30 and xii. 35 any reality.

These comings and goings appear to have been related
by our author in a very inexact fashion. In comparing
Acts xvii. 14 — 16 ; xviii. 5, with i. Thess. iii. 1 — 2, we find
another disagreement. But seeing that does not concern
matters of dogma, we need not speak of it here.

That which is moat important about our present subject
which furnishes the critical ray of light for the difficult
question of the historical value of the Acts is a coinpari-
sion of the passages relative to the business of the
circumcision in the Acts (chap, xv.) and in the Epistle to
Galatians (chap. ii). According to the Acts the brethren
in Judea being come to Antioch and having maintained
the necessity of circumcision for the converted Pagans, a
deputation, composed of Paul, Barnabas and many others
was sent from Antioch to Jerusalem to consult the apostles
and the elders in this question. They were received with
much warmth by the whole community ; a great assembly
took place. Dissension scarcely showed itself, checked as
it was under the effusions of a common charity and the
happiness of finding themselves together. Peter an
nounces the opinion which he had expected to find in
the mouth of Paul, that converted Pagans do not become
subject to the law of Moses. James appends to that only
a very slight restriction. Paul does not speak, and, to say
thfl truth, is under no necessity of speaking, since his

XV111 INTRODUCTION.

doctrine is put into the mouth of Peter. The opinion oi
the brethren of Judea is supported by none. A solemn
decree is formulated by the advice of James. This decree
is signified to the churches by deputies specially appointed.

Let us now compare the account of Paul in the Epistle
to the Galatians. Paul's version is that the journey to
Jerusalem which he undertook on that occasion was the
effect of a spontaneous movement, and even the result of a
revolution. Arrived at Jerusalem, he communic::tos his
gospel to those whom it concerned ; he has, in particular,
interviews with those who appear to be considerable
personages. They do not offer him a single criticism ;
they communicate nothing to him ; they only ask that he
should remember the poor of Jerusalem. If Titus, who
accompanied him, consented to allow himself to be circum
cised it is " because of false brethren unawares brought
in." Paul makes this passing concession to them, but he
does not submit himself to them. As to men of importance
(Paul speaks of them only with a shade of bitterness
and irony), they have taught him nothing new. More,
Peter, having come later to Antioch, Paul "withstood him
to the face, because he was to be blamed." First, in effect,
Peter ate with all indiscriminately. The emissaries of
James having arrived, Peter hides himself and avoids the
uncireumcised. " Seeing that they walked not uprightly
according to the truth of the Gospel," Paul apostrophises
Peter before them all, and repro^ohes him bitterly with
his conduct.

The difference is palpable. On the ©ne hand a solemn
agreement, on the other anger ill-restrained, extreme suscep
tibilities. On the one side a sort of council ; on the other
nothing resembling it. On one side a formal decree
issued by a recognized authority ; on the other different
opinions, which remain in existence without any reciprocal
yielding, save for form's sake. It is useless to say which
version merits the preference. The account in the Acts is
scarcely probable, since according to this account the
council was occasioned by a dispute of which no trace is to
be found when the council has met. The two orators ex
pressed themselves in a sense altogether different from
that which we know to have been otherwise their usual
part. The decree which the council is said to have de-

INTRODUCTION. xix

cided upon is assuredly a fiction. If this decree of which
James would have settled the terms had been really
promulgated, why those terrors of the good and timid
Peter ? Why did he hide himself ? He and the Christian
oo'Jamiinity of Antioch were acting in the fullest con
formity with the decree the terms of which had been
settled by James himself. The business of the circum
cision occurred about the year 51. Some years afterwards,
about the year 56, the quarrel which the decree ought to
have ended is more lively than over. The Church of
Galatia is troubled by new envoys from the Church of
Jerusalem. Paul answered this new attack of his enemies
by his thundering epistle. If the decree mentioned in
Acts xv. had had any real existence, Paul had a very
simple means of silencing debate — he had only to quote it.
Now all that he says supposes the non-existence of this
decree. In 57, Paul, writing to the Corinthians, ignores the
same decree, and even violates its prescriptions. The
decree orders abstinence from meats offered to idols.
Paul, however, is of opinion that those meats may be
eaten if no one is scandalized theroby, but they ought to be
abstained from in cases where scandal would arise. In
58, then, about the time of the last journey of Paul to
Jerusalem, James is more obstinate than ever. One of the
characteristic features of the Acts — a feature which proves
plainly that the author proposes to himself less to prevent
historical truth and even to satisfy logic, than to edify
pious readers — is the circumstance that the question of the
admission of the uncircumcised is always settled, yet is
always open. It is settled at first by the baptism of the
eunuch of Queen Candace, then by the baptism of the
centurion Cornelius, both miraculously ordained ; then by
the foundation of the church of Antioch (xi. 19, et. seq."]
then by the pretended Council of Jerusalem, which does
not prevent that; on the last pages of the book (xxi. 20-21.)
the question is still in suspense. To tell the truth it has
always remained in that state. The two fractions of the
nascent Christianity never agreed upon it. One of them,
however, that which clung to the practices of Judaism
remained infertile- and faded into obscurity. Paul was B-J
far from being accepted by all that after his death a part
of Christendom anathematized Lim, and pursued him vritli
calumnies.

XX INTKODUCTION;

In our third book we shall have to deal in detail with
the question which lies at the root of all those curious
incidents. Here we have desired to give only some
examples of the manner in which the author of the Acts
understands history, of his system of conciliation, of his
preconceived ideas. Must we conclude from them that the
first chapters of the Acts are devoid of authority, as some
celebrated critics think, that fiction so far enters as to
create both pieces and persons, such as the eunuch of
Candace, the centurion Cornelius, and even the deacon
Stephen and the pious Tabitha ? I think by no means.
It is probable that the author of the Acts has not invented
the persons, but is a skilful advocate, who writes to prove
his case, and who makee the most of the facts which have
x>me to his knowledge to support his favourite theories,
which are the legitimacy of the calling of the Gen
tiles, and the divine institution of the hierarchy. Such
a document must be used with great caution, but to reject
it absolutely is as uncritical as to follow it blindly. Some
paragraphs, besides, even in the first part, have a univer
sally recognised value, and represent authentic memoirs
extracted by the last editor. Chapter xii., in particular,
is excellent matter, and may have been the work of John-
Mark.

It may be seen in what distress we should be if the only
documentary authorities we have for this history were a
legendary book like this. Happily, we have others which
refer directly to the period which will be the subject of
our third book, and which shed a great light upon this.
These are the Epistles of St. Paul. The Epistles to the
G-alatians especially is a veritable treasury, the basis of
the chronology of this age, the key which opens every
thing, the testimony which ought to re-assure the most
sceptical as to the reality of matters concerning which
they might doubt. I beg, serious readers who may be
tempted to regard me aft ioo bold or too credulous, to read
again the two first chajterp of that remarkable document.
They are certainly the two most important chapters for
the study of nascent Christianity. The Epistles of St.
Paul have, in fact, an unequalled advantage in that
history : their absolute authenticity. No doubt has ever
been raised by serious criticism as to the authenticity of

INTRODUCTION. xxi

the Epistle to the Galacians, of the two Epistles to the
Corinthians, of the Epistle to the Eomans. The reasons for
which the two Epistles to the Thessalonians and that to
the Philippians, have been attacked are valueless. At the
beginning of our third volume we shall have to discuss
the more specious, although indecisive, objections which
have been raised against the Epistle to the Colossians,
and the note to Philemon ; the special problem presented
by the Epistle to the Ephesians ; the strong reasons,
finally, whieh point to the rejection of the two Epistles to
Timothy, and that to Titus. The epistles of which we
shall have to make use in this volume are those whose
authenticity is indisputable ; for, at least, the inductions
which we shall draw from the others are independent
of the question of whether they have or have not been
dictated by St. Paul.

It is not necessary to refer in this place to the rules of
criticism which have been followed in the composition of
this work ; that has already been done in the introduction
to the Life of Jesus. The tirst twelve chapters of the Acts
are in effect a document analogous to the synoptical
Gospels, and require to be treated in the same fashion.
Documents of this kind, half historical, half legendary, can
never be regarded as wholly legend or wholly history.
Almost everything in them is false in detail, nevertheless
it may enclose some precious truths. To translate these
narratives pure and simple is not to write history. These
narratives are, in fact, often contradicted by other and more
authentic texts. In consequence, even when there is only
one text, one is always constrained to fear that if there had
been others there would have been the same contra
dictions. For the Life of Jesus the narrative of Luke is
continually controlled and corrected by the two other synop
tical Gospels and by the fourth. Is it not probable, I repeat,
that if we had for the Acts the analogue of the Synoptics
and of the fourth Gospel, thb Acts would be corrected on a
host of points where we have now only their testimony ?
In our third book, where we shall be in clear and definite
history, and where we shall have in our hands original
and often biographical information, we shall be guided by
other rules. When St. Paul himself tells us the story of
some episode of his life which he had no interest in pre-

XX11 INTRODUCTION.

senting in any particular light, it is clear that all that we"
need do is to insert his very words, word for word, in our
narrative, according to the method of Tillemont. But
when we are concerned with a narrator preoccupied with a
system, writing as the advocate of certain ideas, editing
after this infantine fashion, with vague and soft outlines,
colours absolute, and strongly marked such as legend
always offers, the duty of the critic is not to stick clo&e to
the text ; his duty is to discover what truth the text may
embody, without ever being too certain of having found it.
To debar criticism from such interpretations would be as
unreasonable as to command an astronomer to concern
himself only with the apparent state of the heavens. Does
not astronomy, on the contrary, consist in rectifying the
parallax caused by the position of the observer, and to con
struct a real and veracious char^ instead of a deceptive
apparent one ?

How besides can it be pretended that documents should
be followed to the letter when they are full of impossi
bilities ? The first twelve chapters of the Acts are a tissue
of miracles. Now it is an absolute rule of criticism to give
no place in historical documents to miraculous circum
stances. This is not the result of a metaphysical system,
but simply a matter of observation. Facts of that kind
can never be verified. All the pretended miracles that we
can study closely resolve themselves either into illus?' .'• s
or impostures. If a single miracle were proved, we could
hardly reject all those of ancient history in a mass, for
after all, admitting that a great number of these last were
false, it is still possible to believe that certain of them were
true. But it is not thus. All discussable miracles fade
away. May we not reasonably conclude from that fact
that the miracles which are removed from us by centuries,
and concerning which there is no way of establishing an
exhaustive discussion, are also without reality ? In other
words, there is no miracle except when one believes it; the
substance of the supernatural is faith - Catholicism itself,
which pretends that the miraculous power is not yet ex
tinct within its bosom, undergoes the power of this law.
The miracles which it pretends to work happen only in
places of its choice. When there is so simple a method of
proving its authenticity, why not do so in open daylight ?

INTRODUCTION. XX111

A miracle in Paris, under the eyes of competent and
learned men, would put an end to all doubts. But alas !
that is what never happens. Never has a miracle been
wrought before the public whom it is desirable to convert,
I would say before the incredulous. The condition of the
miracle is the credulity of the witness. No miracle is per
formed before those who might discuss and criticise it. To
that rule there is not a single exception. Cicero said, with
his usual good sense and acuteness, " Since when has that
secret force disappeared ? Is it not since men have become
less credulous ? "

" But," it is said, " if it is impossible to prove that there
has ever been a supernatural fact, it is equally impossible
to prove that there has not been one. The positive savant
who denies the supernatural proceeds then as gratuitously
as the believer who admits it." In no way. It is for him
who affirms a proposition to prove it. He, before whom it
is affirmed, has but one thing to do, to wait for the proof,
and to yield if it is good. Supposing we had called upon
Buff on to give a place in his Natural History to sirens and
centaurs, Buff on would have answered, " Show me a speci
men of these beings, and I will admit them ; until you do,
they do not exist for me " — " But prove that they do
not exist? " — " It is for you to prove that they exist." The
burden of proof in science rests upon those who make the
assertion. Why do we not believe in angels or devils,
although innumerable historic texts assume their exist
ence ? Because the existence of an angel or a devil has
never yet been proved.

To maintain the reality of the miracle appeal is made to
the phenomena, which, it is said, could have been pro
duced only by going beyond the laws of nature, the crea
tion of man for example. " The creation of man," it is
said," could have come about only by the direct intervention
of the Deity ; why should not that intervention be re
peated at other decisive moments of the development of
the universe ? " I shall not insist upon the strange philo
sophy, and the paltry idea of the Divinity which such a
method of reasoning involves, for history has its method,
independent of all philosophy. Without entering, in the
smallest degree, upon the province of theodicy, it is easy to
show how defective such an argument is. It is equivalent

INTRODUCTION.

to saying tha% everything which does not happen in the
existing state of the world, everything which we cannot
explain by the existing condition of science, is miraculous.
But then the sun is a miracle, for science is far from hav
ing explained the sun ; the conception of every man is a
miracle, for philosophy is still silent on that point ; con
science is a miracle, for it is an absolute mystery ; every
animal is a miracle, for the origin of life is a problem con
cerning which we have almost no information. If we say
that all life, that every soul is in effect of a superior order
in nature, we are simply playing upon words. We are
anxious that this should be understood ; but then there
must be an explanation of the word miracle. Can that
be a miracle which happens every day and every hour ?
Miracle is not the unexplained ; it is a formal derogation
in the name of a particular will of known laws. What we
deny is the exceptional ; these are the private interventions,
like that of a clockmaker, who has made a clock, very well,
it is true, but to which he is from time to time obliged to
put his hand to supply the deficiencies of the wheel-work.
That God permeates everything, especially everything that
lives, is distinctly our theory ; we only say that no special
intervention of a supernatural force has ever been proved.
We deny the reality of private supernaturalism until a de
monstrated fact of this kind has been presented to us. To
seek this fact before the creation of man ; to fly beyond
history to periods, where all verification is impossible, in
order to escape from verifying historical miracles, is to take
refuge behind a cloud, to prove one obscure thing by
another still moro obscure, to dispute a known law, be
cause of a fact oi which we are not certain. Miracles are
appealed to which took place before any witness existed,
simply because it is impossible to quote one of which there
is any credible witness.

Without doubt, in distant ages, things happened in the
universe, phenomena which offer themselves no more, at
least upon the same scale in the actual state of things.
But these phenomena may be explained by the date at
which they have occurred. In the geological formation a
great number of minerals and precious stones are found,
which it would appear are no longer produced in nature.
Nevertheless Messrs. Mitscherlich, Ebelman, de S^nar

INTRODUCTION. XXV

mont, Daubree have artificially recomposed tho majority of
these minerals and precious stones. If it is doubtful
whether they will ever succeed in artificially producing
life, it is because the artificial reproduction of the circum
stances under which life commences (if it ever does com
mence) will be always out of the reach of humanity.
How can we bring back'a state of the planet which has
disappeared for thousands of years ? How are we to try
an experiment which will occupy centuries ? The diver
sity of the means and the centuries of slow evolution —
these are the things th&t are forgotten when we speak of
the phenomena of old times, which do not happen to-day
as miracles. In some celestial body at the present
moment things are perhaps being done which have ceased
upon this earth for an infinite period of time. Surely the for
mation of humanity is the most shocking and absurd
thing in the world, if it is supposed to be sudden, in
stantaneous. It reverts to general analogies (without
ceasing to be mysterious) if we see in it the result of a
slow progress continued during incalculable periods. We
must not apply the laws of maturity to embryonic life.
The embryo develops all its organs one after another ;
the adult man, on the contrary, creates no more organs.
He creates no more because he is no longer of an age
to create; he does not even invent language because he
is not called upon to invent it. But what is the use
of meeting adversaries who continually evade the ques
tion ? We ask for an authenticated historical miracle ; we
are told that there were such things before history existed.
Assuredly, if a proof were required of the necessity for
supernatural beliefs in certain states of the soul, it might
be found in the fact that minds penetrating enough in
every other respect have been able to rest the edifice of
their faith on such a desperate argument.

Others, abandoning miracles of the physical order, entrench
themselves behind moral miracles, without which they
maintain that these events cannot be explained. Certainly
the formation of Christianity is the greatest event in the
religious history of the world. But it is not a miracle for
all that. Buddhism, Babism have had ^ martyrs as
numerous, as exalted, as resigned as Christianity. The
miracles of the foundation of Islam are of a wholly different

XXVI INTRODUCTION.

character, and I confess that they affect me little. It omst,
however, be remarked that the Mussulman doctors base
upon the establishment of Islam, upon its diffusion as by a
train of fire, upon its rapid conquests, upon the force which
gives it everywhere an absolute reign, the same reasonings
which the Christian apologists base upon the establishment
of Christianity, and assert that they clearly behold there
the finger of God. Let us allow, if it is desired, that the
foundation of Christianity is a unique fact. Hellenism is
another absolutely unique fact, understanding by that word
the ideal perfection in literature, in art, in philosophy,
which Greece has achieved. Greek art surpasses all other
art, as Christianity surpasses all other religions, and the
Acropolis at Athens— a collection of masterpiecesby the side
of which everything else is no better than clumsy fumbling,
or more or less successful imitation — is perhaps that which
in its way most successfully defies comparison. Hellenism,
in other words, is as much a miracle of beauty as Chris
tianity is a miracle of sanctity. A unique thing is not a
miraculous thing. God is in varying degrees in all that is
beautiful, good, and true. But he is never in one of his
manifestations in so exclusive a fashion that the presence
of his breath in a religious or a philosophical movement
ought to be deemed a privilege or exception.

I hope that the interval of two years and a half passed
since the publicationof the Life of Jesus will lead some of my
readers to consider these problems with greater calmness.
Eeligious controversy is always one of bad faith, without
any intention or desire that it should be so. There is no
independent discussion ; no anxious seeking for the truth ;
it is the defence of a position already taken up to prove
that the dissident is ignorant or dishonest. Calumnies,
misinterpretations, falsifications of ideas and of texts,
triumphant reasonings over things that an opponent has
never said, cries of victory over mistakes which he has not
made, nothing appears disloyal to the man who would
hold in his hand the interests of absolute truth. I should
have ignored history if I had not expected all that. I am
cool enough to be almost insensible to it, and I have a suf
ficiently lively taste for matters of faith to be able to
understand in a kindly spirit what there is that is often
touching in the sentiment which inspired those who con-?

INTRODUCTION XXV11

tradicted me. Often, in seeing so much simplicity, such a
pious assurance, a wrath coming so frankly from good and
pure souls, I have said, with John Huss, at the sight of an
old woman who sweated under a faggot for his burning :
Oh, sancta simplicitas ! I have regretted certain emotions,
which could only be profitless. According to the beautiful
expression of the Scriptures, " God is not in the tempest."
Ah ! without doubt, if this trouble led to the discovery of
the truth, we should be consoled for many agitations. But
it is not thus : truth does not exist for the passionate man.
It is reserved for the minds of those who seek for it with
out prejudice, without persistent love, without lasting
hatred, with an absolute liberty, and without any after in
tention of^acting in the business of humanity. These pro
blems are only some of the innumerable questions of which
the world is full, and which the curious examine. No one
is offended by the enunciation of a theoretical opinion.
Those who hold to their faith as to a treasure have a very
simple method of defending it — that of taking no note of
works written in a sense different from their own. The
timid do better not to read them.

There are practical persons who, with regard to a work
of science, ask what political party the author proposes to
satisfy, and who are anxious that every poem should con
vey a moral lesson. Such persons do not admit that it is
possible to write for something else besides a propaganda.
The idea of art and of science aspiring only to find the true,
and to realize the beautiful, outside of all politics, is to
them incomprehensible. Between us and such persons
misunderstandings are inevitable. " These people," as
the Greek philosopher said, " take back with their left
hand what they give with their right." A host of letters,
dictated by a worthy sentiment, which I have received,
may be summed up thus : — " What do you want ? What
end do you propose ?" Good God ! the same that every one
proposes in writing history. If I had many lives at my
disposal I would devote one to writing the history of
Alexander, another to writing the history of Athens, a
third, it may be, to writing a history of the French Bevolu-
tion, or a history of the Order of St. Francis. What end
should I propose to myself in writing these works ? One
only, to find the truth and to make it live, to work so that

JIXV111 INTBODUCTION.

tlie great things of the past may be known with the great
est possible exactitude, and expounded in a manner worthy
of them. The notion of overthrowing the faith of anyone
is far removed from me. These works ought to be exe
cuted with a supreme indifference, as if one were writing
for a deserted planet. Every concession to scruples of an
inferior order is a failure in the worship of art and of
truth. Who does not admit that the absence of the
proselytising spirit is at once the quality and the defect of
a work composed in this spirit ?

The first principle of the critical school in effect is that in
matters of faith everyone admits what he wants to admit,
and, as it were, makes the bed of his belief in proportion to
his own stature. Why should we be so senseless as to
mix ourselves up with what depends upon circumstances
concerning which no one knows anything ? If anyone ac
cepts our principles, it is because he possesses the turn of
mind and the necessary education for them ; all our efforts
would give neither, did one not already possess those quali
ties. Philosophy differs from faith, inasmuch as faith
operates by itself, independently of the understanding that
we have of the dogmas. We believe, on the contrary, that
a truth has no value, save when it is reached by itself, when
one sees the whole order of ideas to which it belongs. We
do not force ourselves to silence such of our opinions as are
not in harmony with the belief of a portion of our fellow-
man ; we make no sacrifice to the exigencies of divergent
orthodoxies ; but on the other hand we do not dream of
attacking or provoking them ; we act as though they did
not exist. For myself, the day when I may be convicted
of an effort to convert to my views a single adherent who
did not come of himself would cause me the most acute
pain. I should conclude from it, either that my mind had
lost its freedom and calmness, or that something was op
pressing me so that I could not content myself any
longer with the free and joyous contemplation of the uni
verse.

If, moreover, my aim had been tc make war upon estab
lished religions, I should have Vforked in another way,
undertaking only to point out the impossibilities and the con
tradictions of the texts and dogmas held as sacred. That
minute task has been done a thousand times, and don?

INTRODUCTION. Xxix

well. In !856, I wrote as follows: — "I protest once for
all against the false interpretation which would be put
upon my labours, if the various essays upon the history
of religions which I have or may publish in the
future, be treated as polemical works. Looked at as such,
I should be the first to admit that these essays were very
weak. Controversy requires tactics to which I am a
stranger ; it is necessary to know the weak side of one's
adversary, to hold to it, never to touch doubtful ques
tions, to avoid all concession, that is to say, to renounce
the very essence of the scientific spirit. Such is not
my method. The fundamental question upon which
religious discussion must turn, that is to say, the
question of revelation and of the supernatural, I never
touch, not that that question may not be resolved for me
with entire certainty, but because the discussion of such a
question is not scientific, or rather because independent
science supposes it to be resolved beforehand. Assuredly
if I had any polemical or proselytising object in view, this
would be a cardinal fault, it would be to transport into the
region of delicate and obscure problems a question which
is usually treated in the coarsest terms by controversialists
and apologists. So far from regretting the advantages
which I should thus give my opponent, I rejoice in them,
if thereby I might convince the theologians that my
writings are of another order than theirs, that in them they
must look only for pure researches of study, open to attack
as such, wherein an attempt is sometimes made to apply
to the Jewish religion and to the Christian the principles of
criticism which are followed in other branches of history
and philology. I intend at no time to enter into the dis
cussion of questions of pure theology any more than M.M.
Burnouf, Greuzer, Guigniaut, and so many other critical
historians of the religions of antiquity have thought them
selves obliged to undertake the reputation of, or the apology
for, the forms of worship with which they were occupied.
The history of humanity is for me a vast whole, where
everything is essentially unequal and diverse, but where
everything of the same order arises from the same causes
and obeys the same laws. These laws I inquire into with
no other intention than that of discovering the exact tint
of what really is. Nothing will make the change an obsciire

XXX INTRODUCTION.

position, but one which is fruitful for science for the part
of controversialist, an easy fact, inasmuch as it wins for the
writer an assured favour amongst people who think it
their duty to oppose war to war. In that polemic, the
necessity for which I am far from disputing, but which is
neither to my taste nor to my abilities, Yoltaire is enough.
One cannot be at the same time a good controversialist
and a good historian. Voltaire, weak in scholarship ;
Voltaire, who appears so devoid of the sentiment of anti
quity to us who are initiated into a better method ; Voltaire
is twenty times victorious over those who are even more
innocent of criticism than he is himself. A new edition
of the works of this great man would satisfy the want
which appears to be felt at the present moment of answer
ing the encroachments of theology ; an answer bad in
itself, but worthy of what it has to fight against ; an
old-fashioned answer to a science that is out of date. Let
us do better, we who possess love of truth and a vast
curiosity ; let us leave these disputes to those whom they
please ; let us labour for the small number of those who
march in the front rank of the human mind. Popularity,
I know, belongs by preference to writers who, instead of
pursuing the most elevated form of truth, apply themselves
to struggling against the opinion of their times ; but by a
just revenge they have no value so soon as the opinion they
have contested has ceased to exist. Those who refuted the
magic and judicial astrology in the XVIth and XVIIth
centuries, rendered an immense service to reason, yet their
writings are unknown at the present day ; their very
victory has caused them to be forgotten.

I intend to hold invariably to this rule of conduct — the
only one worthy of a scholar. I know that the researches
of religious history touch upon living questions which
appear to demand a solution. Persons familiar with free
speculation do not understand the calm deliberation of
thought ; practical minds grow impatient with science,
which does not answer to their eagerness. Let us avoid
these vain excitements. Let us avoid finding anything.
Let us rest in our respective Churches, profiting by their
daily worship and their tradition of virtue, participating in
their good work, and rejoicing in the poetry of their past.
Nor should their intolerance repel us. We may even for-

INTRODUCTION. xxxi

give that intolerance, for it is like egotism, one of the
necessities of human nature. To suppose that it will
henceforward form new religious families, or that the pro
portion amongst those which now exist will ever greatly
change is to go against all appearances. There will soon
be great schism in the Catholic Church; the days of
Avignon, of the anti-popes, of the Clementists and the
Urbanists will probably return. The Catholic Church may
have its fourteenth Century again, but, noth withstanding
her divisions, she will still remain the Catholic Church.
It is probable that within a hundred years the relations
between the number of Protestants, of Catholics, and of
Jews will not have sensibly changed. But a great altera
tion will be made, or, rather, will have become apparent
to the eyes of all. Each of these religious families will
have two sorts of faithful ones; some believing absolutely as
in the Middle Ages ; others sacrificing the letter and hold
ing only to the spirit. This second fraction will grow in
every communion, and as the spirit agrees as much as the
letter divides, the spiritualists of each communion will
have reached such a point of agreement that they will
altogether neglect to amalgamate. Fanaticism will be lost
in a general tolerance. Dogma will become a mysterious
ark which no one will ever want to open. If the ark is
empty, then what matters it. One single religion will, I
fear, resist this dogmatic softening ; that is Islamism.
There are amongst certain Mussulmans of the old school
and amongst certain eminent men in Constantinople, there
are in Persia, especially, forms of a large and conciliatory
spirit. If these good forms are suffocated by the fanaticism
of the ulemas, Islamism will perish, for two things are
evident : the first, that modern civilization does not desire
that the ancient religions should die out altogether ; the
eecond is, that it will not allow itself to be hampered in its
work by old religious institutions. These last have the
choice between submission and death.

As for pure religion, the pretension of which is not to be
a sect or a Church apart, why should it submit to the in
conveniences of a position of which it has none of the ad
vantages ? Why should it raise flag against flag when it
knows that salvation is possible everywhere and to every
body ; that it depends on the degree of nobility which

Xxxii INTRODUCTION.

each carries in Mmself ? We can understand now Protest
antism in the sixteenth century brought about an open
rupture. Protestantism began with a very absolute faith.
Far from corresponding to a weakening of dogmatism, the
Reformation marked a renaissance of the most rigid
Christian spirit. The movement of the nineteenth cen
tury, on the contrary, springs from a sentiment which is the
very reverse of dogmatism ; it arises not in sects or sepa
rate Churches, but' in a general softening of all the
Churches. The marked divisions increase the fanaticism
of orthodoxy and provoke reactions. The Luthers and
Calvins made the Caraffa, the Ghislieri, the Loyolas, the
Philip II. 's. If our Church rejects them let us not re
criminate ; let us learn to appreciate the sweetness of
modern manners, which has rendered those hatreds power
less ; let us console ourselves by dreaming of that invisible
Church which takes in the excommunicated saints, the best
souls of every century. The banished of a Church are
always its best men ; they are in advance of their times ;
the heretic of to-day is the orthodox of to-morrow. What
besides is the excommunication of men? Our Heavenly
Father excommunicates only dry souls and narrow hearts.
If the priest refuses to admit us to the cemetery, let us for
bid our families to cry out. God is the Judge ; the earth
is a good mother who makes no differences ; the corpse of
a good man entering the unconsecrated corner carries con
secration with it.

Undoubtedly there are circumstances in which the appli
cation of these principles is difficult. The spirit breathes
where it will ; the spirit is liberty. Now it is to persons
who are as it were chained to absolute faith I would speak ;
of men in holy orders or clothed with some ministerial
authority. Even then a fine soul knows how to find the
ways of issue. A worthy country priest, by his solitary
studies and by the purity of his life, comes to nee the im
possibility of literal dogmatism ; must he sadden those
whom he has hitherto consoled by explaining to them
simple changes which they cannot understand? God
forbid ! There are not two men in the world who have
exactly the same duties. The good Bishop Colenso accom
plished an act of honesty such as the Church has not seen
since its origin, in writing his doubts as soon as they came

INTRODUCTION* xxxm

to him. But the humble Catholic priest, in a country of
narrow and timid minds, ought to hold his tongue, flow
many discreet tombs around our village churches hide in
this way poetic reserves — angelic silences ! Will those
whose duty it has been to speak equal the merit of those
secrets known to God alone ?

Theory is not practice. The ideal must remain the ideal ;
it must fear lest it soil itself by contact with reality.
Thoughts which are good for those who are preserved by
their nobility from all moral danger may not be, if they are,
applied without their inconveniences for those who are
surrounded with baseness. Great things are achieved only
with ideas strictly defined ; the man absolutely without
prejudice would be powerless. Let us enjoy the liberty
of the sons of God ; but let us take care lest we become
accomplices in the diminution of virtue which would menace
society if Christianity were to grow weak. What should
we be without it ? What could replace the great schools of
seriousness and respect, such as St. Sulpice, or the devoted
ministry of the Sisters of Charity ? How can we avoid being
affrighted by the pettiness and the cold heartedness which
have invaded the world ? Our disagreement with persons
who believe in positive religions is, after all, purely
scientific ; at heart we are with them ! We have only one
enemy who is theirs also — vulgar materialism, the baseness
of the interested man.

Peace then, in God's name ! Let the various orders of
humanity live side by side, not falsifying their own intelli
gence in order to make reciprocal concessions which will
lessen them, but in naturally supporting each other.
Nothing ought to reign here below to the exclusion of its
opposite. No one force ought to be able to suppress the
others. The harmony of humanity results from the free
emission of the most discordant notes. If orthodoxy should
succeed in killing science we know what would happen.
The Mussulman world of Spain died from having too con
scientiously performed that task. If Eationalism wishes to
govern the world without regard to the religious needs of
the soul, the experience of the French Eevolution is there to
teach us the consequences of such a blunder. The instincts
of art, carried to the highest point of refinement, but with
out honesty, made of the Italy of the Renaissance a den of

XXXI V INTKODUCTION.

thieves, an evil abode. Weariness, stupidity, mediocrity
are the punishment of cortain Protestant countries where,
under the pretence of good sense and Christian spirit, art has
been suppressed and science reduced to something paltry.
Lucretius and St. Theresa, Aristophanes and Socrates,
Voltaire and Francis of Assisi, Raphael and Vincent, St.
Paul have an equal right to exist, and humanity would bo
the less if one of the elements which compose it were
wanting.

THE APOSTLES,

CHAPTER I.

FORMATION OF BELIEFS RELATIVE TO THE RESURREC
TION OF JESUS— THE APPARITIONS AT JERUSALEM.

JESUS, although speaking constantly of resurrection,
of new life, never stated distinctly that he would rise
again in the flesh. The disciples, in the hours immedi
ately following his death, had not, in this respect, any
settled expectations. The sentiments, in which they
have so unaffectedly taken us into their confidence,
implied even that they believed all was finished. They
wept, and interred their friend, if not as they would
at the death of a common person, at least as a person
whose loss was irreparable. They were sad and cast
down. The hope that they had cherished of seeing him
realise the salvation of Israel is now proved to have
been vanity. They were spoken of as men who had
been robbed of a grand and dear illusion.

But enthusiasm and love do not recognise conditions
barren of results. They dallied with the impossible,
and, rather than abdicate hope, they did violence to all
reality. Several phrases of the Master, which were
recalled, especially those in which he predicted his
future advent, might be interpreted in the sense that
he would leave the tomb. Such a belief was, besides, so
natural that the faith of the disciples would have sufficed
to create it in every part. The great prophets, Enoch
and Elijah, had not tasted death. They began even to
believe that the patriarchs and the men of the first order
in the old law, were not really dead, and that their

c

2 TIIE APOSTLES.

bodies were in their sepulchres at Hebron, alive and
animated. It was to happen to Jesus, what had
happened to all men who have captivated the attention
of their fellow-men. The world, accustomed to attri
bute to them superhuman virtues, cannot admit that
they would have to undergo the unjust, revolting and
iniquitous law, to wit, a common death. At the moment
when Mahomet expired, Omar issued from the tent, sabre
in hand, and declared that he would strike off the head
of anyone who dared to say that the prophet was
no more. Death is a thing so absurd — when it strikes
down a man of genius, or the large-hearted man —
that people will not believe in the possibility of such
an error in nature. Heroes do not die. Is not true
existence that which is implanted in the hearts of those
whom we love ? This adored Master had filled for some
years the little world which pressed around him with
joy and with hope ; would people consent to leave him
to rot in the tomb ? No ; he had lived too much in
those who surrounded him for people not to declare
after his death that he still lived.

The day which followed the burial of Jesus (Satur
day, 15th April) was crowded with these thoughts.
People were interdicted from all manner of manual
labour, because of the Sabbath. But never was repose
more fruitful. The Christian conscience had on that
day but one object — the Master laid low in the tomb.
The women, in particular, embalmed him in ointment
with their most tender caresses. Not for a moment did
their thoughts abandon that sweet friend, reposing in
his myrrh, whom the wicked had killed ! Ah ! the
angels are doubtless surrounding him, veiling their
faces in his shroud ! He, indeed, did say that he
should die, that his death would be the salvation of
the sinner, and that he should rise in the kingdom of
his Father. Yes ; he shall live again ; God will
not leave his Son to be a prey to hell ; He will not
suffer his chosen one to see corruption. What is this

THE APOSTLES. 3

tombstone which weighs upon him ? He will raise it
up ; he will reascend to the right hand of his Father,
whence he descended. And we shall see him again ;
we shall hear his charming voice ; we shall enjoy anew
his conversations, and it is in vain that they have
cri^ified him.

The belief in the immortality of the soul, which,
through the influence of the Grecian philosophy, has
become a dogma of Christianity, readily permits of
one resigning oneself to death, inasmuch as the
dissolution of the body in that hypothesis was
only a deliverance of the soul, freed henceforth
from vexatious bonds, without which it can exist.
But that theory of man, considered as a being
composed of two sub:» ances, did not appear very clear
to the Jews. To them the reign of God and the reign
of Spirit consisted in a complete transformation of the
world and in the annihilation of death. To acknow
ledge that death could be victorious over Jesus, over
him who came to extinguish its empire, was the height
of absurdity. The very idea that he could suffer had
previously disgusted his disciples. The latter, then,
had no choice between despair or heroic affirmation.
A man of penetration might have announced on that
Saturday that Jesus would rise again; the little
Christian Society on that day wrought the veritable
miracle ; it resurrected Jesus in its heart, because of
the intense love that it bore for him. It decided that
Jesus had not died. The love of these passionate souls
was, in truth, stronger than death ; and, as the pro
perty of passion is to be communicative, to light like
a torch a sentiment which resembles itself, and, conse
quently, to be indefinitely propagated ; Jesus, in a
sense, at the moment of which we speak, is already
risen from the dead. Let but one material fact, insig
nificant itself, permit the belief that his body is no
longer here below, and the dogma of the resurrection
will be established for eternity.

C 2

4 THE APOSTLES.

It was that which happened in the circumstances
which, though part obscured, because of the inco-
herency of the traditions, and especially because of the
contradictions which they presented, can, nevertheless,
be grasped with a sufficient degree of probability.

Early on Sunday morning, the Galilean women who on
Friday evening had hastily embalmed the body, visited
the tomb in which he had been temporarily deposited.
These were Mary Magdalene, Mary Cleophas, Salome,
Joanna, wife of Kouza, and others. They came, probably,
each on her own account, for it is difficult to call in
question the tradition of the three synoptical gospels,
according to which several women came to the tomb ;
o-n the other hand, it is certain that in the two most
authentic narratives which we possess of the resurrection,
Mary Magdalene alone played a part. In any case
she had, at that solemn moment, taken a part altogether
out of line. It is she whom we must follow step by
step, for she bore on that day, for an hour, all the burden
of a Christian conscience; her testimony decided the
faith of the future.

Let us not forget that the vault in which the body
of Jesus had been enclosed, was a vault which had been
recently cut in the rock, and was situated in a garden
near the place of execution. It had, for the latter reason
been specially taken, seeing that it was late in the day
and that they were desirous of not desecrating the
Sabbath. The first gospel alone adds one circumstance,
to wit, that the vault belonged to Joseph of Arimathsea.
But, in general, the anecdotical circumstances annexed
by the first gospel to the common fund of the tradition,
are without any value, especially When the matter in
hand is the last days of the life of Jesus. The same
gospel mentions another detail which, in view of the
silence of the others, has not any probability ; we refer
to the public seals and a guard being placed at the
tomb. We must also remember that the mortuary
vaults were low chambers, cut into an inclining rock,

THE APOSTLES. 5

in which was contrived a vertical cutting. The door, ordi
narily downwards, was closed by a very heavy stone, fitted
into a groove. These chambers had not a lock and key,
the weight of the stone was the sole safeguard that one
had against thieves or profaners of tombs ; it was like
wise so arranged that, to remove it, either a machine or
the combined efforts of several persons were required.
All the traditions agree on that point, that the stone
had been put at the mouth of the vault on the Friday
evening.

But when Mary Magdalene arrived on the Sunday
morning, the stone was not in its place. The vault was
open. The body was no longer there. In her mind the
idea of the resurrection was as yet little developed. That
which filled her soul was a tender regret and the desire
to render funeral honours to the body of her divine
friend. Her first sentiments, moreover, were those of
surprise and of sadness. The disappearance of the
cherished body had stripped her of the last joy upon
which she had calculated. She could not touch him
again with her hands ! And what had become of him ?
The idea of a desecration was present to her and she
was shocked at it. Perhaps, at the same time, a
glimmer of hope crossed her mind. Without losing
a moment, she ran to a house in which Peter and John
were together. " They have taken away the body of
our Master," said she, " and I know not where they
have laid him."

The two disciples got up hastily and ran with all
their might to see. John, the younger, arrived first.
He stooped down to look into the interior. Mary was
right. The tomb was empty. The linen which had
served to enshroud him was scattered about the
sepulchre. They both entered, examined the linen,
which was no doubt stained with blood, and remarked in
particular the napkin, which had enveloped his head,
rolled up in a corner apart. Peter and John returned
home extremely perplexed. If they did not now pro-

6 THE APOSTLES.

nounce the decisive words: "He is risen!" we may be
sure that such a consequence was the irrevocable con
clusion, and that the generating dogma of Christianity
was already established.

Peter and John departed from the garden; Mary
remained alone at the mouth of the sepulchre. She
wept profusely. One single thought engaged her:
Where have they put the body ? Her woman's heart
did not go beyond the desire of holding the well-beloved
body again in her arms. Suddenly she heard a slight
noise behind her. A man is standing near her. She
thinks at first it is the gardener. " Sir," said she, " if
thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast
laid him, and I will take him awa}'." In response, she
heard herself called by her name, " Mary ! " It was the
voice which h«d so often before thrilled her. It was
the voice of J esus. "Oh, my master!" she exclaimed.
She made as if to touch him. A sort of instinctive
movement induced her to kneel down and kiss his feet.
The vision gently receded, and said to her : " Touch me
not ! " Gradually the shadow disappeared. But the
miracle of love was accomplished. What Cephas was
not able to do, Mary had done. She knew how to ex
tract life, sweet and penetrating words, from the empty
tomb. It was no longer a question of deducing con
sequences or of framing conjectures. Mary had seen
and heard. The resurrection had its first immediate
witness.

Frantic with love, inebriated with joy, Mary returned
to the city and said to the first disciples whom she met :
" I have seen him; he has spoken to me." Her greatly
troubled imagination, her broken and incoherent dis
course, made her to be taken by some as rnad. Peter
and John, in their turn, related what they had seen.
Other disciples went to the tomb and saw likewise.
The conviction reached by the whole of this first group
was that Jesus had risen. Many doubts still existed.
But the assurances of Mary, of Peter and of John, imposed

THE AFOSTLES. 7

upon the others. Subsequently, this was called " the
vision of Peter." Paul, in particular, does not speak of
the vision of Mary, and awards all the honour of the
first apparition to Peter. But that statement was very
inexact. Peter only saw the empty sepulchre, the nap
kin and the winding sheet. Mary alone loved enough
to dispense with nature and to have revived the phantom
of the perfect master. In these sorts of marvellous
crises, to see after others have seen — goes for nothing ;
all the merit consists in being the first to see ; for others
afterwards model their visions on the received type. It
is the characteristic of good organisations to perceive
the image promptly, accurately, and as if by a sort of
innate sense of design. The glory, then, of the resur
rection belongs to Mary Magdalene. Next to Jesus, it
is Mary who has done the most for the establishment of
Christianity. The image created by the delicate sensi
bility of Mary Magdalene hovers over the world still.
Queen and patroness of idealists, Magdalene knew
better than any other person how to verify her dream,
how to impose upon all the holy vision of her passionate
soul. Her great woman's affirmation, " He is risen ! "
has been the basis of the faith of humanity. Begone
hence, powerless reason! Seek not to apply cold
analysis to this masterpiece of idealism and of love. If
wisdom renounces the part of consoling that poor human
race, betrayed by fate, let folly attempt the enterprise.
Where is the sage who has given to the world so much
joy as Mary Magdalene, the possessed of devils ?

The other women who had I? sen to the tomb spread
meanwhile the news abroad. " fkey had not seen Jesus ;
but they spoke of a man in white, whom they had seen
in the sepulchre, and who had said to them : " He is not
here ; return into Galilee ; he will go before you there ;
there shall ye see him." Perhaps it was these white
linen clothes which had originated this hallucination.
Perhaps, again, they saw nothing, arid only commenced
to speak of their vision when Mary Magdalene had re-

8 THE APOSTLES.

lated hers. Indeed, according to one of the most authen
tic texts, they kept silence for some time — a silence
which was afterwards attributed to terror. However
this may be, these recitals increased every hour, and
underwent some singular transformations. The man in
white became the angel of God ; it was told that his
garments shone like the snow; that his face seemed like
lightning. Others spoke of two angels ; one of whom
appeared at the head, the other at the foot of the
sepulchre. By evening, many, perhaps, already believed
that the women had seen this angel descend from
heaven, move away the stone, and Jesus issue forth with
a great noise. Doubtless they varied in their deposi
tions ; suffering from the effect of the imagination of
others, as is always the case with common people ; they
borrowed every embellishment, and thus participated in
the creation of the legend which grew up around them
and suited their ideas.

The day was stormy and decisive. The little com
pany was greatly dispersed. Some had already de
parted for Galilee ; others hid themselves for fear. The
deplorable scene of the Friday ; the afflicting spectacle
which they had had before their eyes, in seeing him of
whom they had expected so much expire upon the
gibbet, without his Father coming to deliver him, had,
moreover, extinguished the faith of many. The news
imparted by the women and Peter was received on
every side with scarcely dissembled credulity. Of the
diverse stories, some were believed ; the women went
hither and thither with singular and inconsistent
stories, enriching them as they went. Statements, the
most opposed, were put forth. Some still wept over
the sad event of the day before ; others were already
triumphant ; all were disposed to entertain the most
extraordinary accounts. Nevertheless, the distrust
which the excitement of Mary Magdalene inspired, the
little authority which the women had, the incoherency
of their narratives, produced grave doubts. People were

1HE APOSTLES. 9

living in the expectation of seeing new visions, and
which could not fail but come. The state of the sect
was altogether favourable to the propagation of strange
rumours. If all the members of the little church had
been assembled, the legendary creation would have been
impossible ; those who knew the secret of the disappear
ance of the body, would probably have reclaimed against
the error. But in the confusion which prevailed, the
door was opened for the most prolific misapprehensions.
It is the characteristic of those states of the soul, in
which originate ecstacy and apparitions, to be contagious.
The history of all the great religious crises, proves that
these sort of visions are infectious. In an assembly of
persons, entertaining the same beliefs, it is sufficient for
one member of the body to affirm having seen or heard
something supernatural for others to see and to hear
also. Amongst the persecuted Protestants, a report
was spread that people had heard the angels singing
psalms upon a recently destroyed temple : They all
went there and heard the same psalm. In cases of this
kind, it is the most excited who give law, and who
regulate the temperature of the common atmosphere.
The exaltation of a few is transmitted to all ; no one
desires to be left behind, or likes to confess that he is
less favoured than the others. Those who see nothing,
are carried away, and finish by believing either that
they are less clear-sighted, or ohat they do not take
proper account of their sensations. In any case, they
take care not to avow it; they would be disturbers of the
common joy, would cause sadness to others, and would
be playing a disagreeable part. When, therefore, one
apparition is brought forward in such assemblies, it is cus
tomary for everyone to see it, or believe he has seen it.
It is 'necessary to remember, however, what was the degree
of intellectual culture possessed by the disciples of Jesus.
What is called a weak head, very often, is associated
with infinite goodness of heart. The disciples believed in
phantoms ; they imagined themselves to be compassed

10 THE APOSTLES.

about with miracles ; they participated in nothing
which had relation to the positive science of the times.
This science existed amongst some hundreds of men,
scattered over those countries alone where Grecian
culture had penetrated. But the commonality, in every
country, participated very little in it. Palestine was, in
this respect, one of the most backward countries. The
Galileans were the most ignorant people of Palestine,
and the disciples of Jesus might be counted amongst
the persons the most simple of Galilee. It was to this
very simplicity that they were indebted for their
heavenly election. Among such people, belief in mar
vellous deeds found the most extraordinary facilities
for propagating itself. Once the opinion on the resur
rection of Jesus had been noised abroad, numerous
visions were sure to follow. And so in fact they did
follow.

On the same Sabbath day, at an advanced hour of
the morning, when the tales of the women had already
been circulated, two disciples, one of whom was named
Cleopatros or Cleopas, set out on a short journey to a
village named Ernmaus, situated a short distance from
Jerusalem. They talked together of recent events, and
were rilled with sadness On the way, an unknown
companion joined them, and inquired as to the cause of
their sorrow. "Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem ? "
said they, " And hast not known the things which are
come to pass in these days ? " And he said unto them,
" What things ? " And they said unto him, " Concerning
Jesus of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed
and word before God and all the people : And how the
chief priests and our rulers delivered him to be condem
ned to death and have crucified him, But we trusted that
it had been he which should have redeemed Israel : and
besides all this, to-day is the third day since these things
were done. Yea, and certain women also of our com
pany made us astonished, which were early at the
sepulchre: and when they found not his body, they

THE APOSTLES. 11

came, saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels,
which said that he was alive. And certain of them
which were with us went to the sepulchre, and found it
even so as the women had said : but him they saw not."
The unknown individual was a pious man, well versed
in the Scriptures, citing Moses and the prophets. These
three good people became friendly. Approaching Em-
maus, the stranger was making as if he would continue
his journey, the two disciples begged him to come and
break bread with them. The day was far spent ; the
recollections of the two disciples became then more
vivid. This hour of the evening for refreshments, was
the one which they looked back to as being at once the
most charming and most melancholy. How many
times had they not seen, during that hour, their beloved
Master forget the burden of the day, in the abandon
of gay conversation, and enlivened by several sips of
excellent wine, spoke to them of the fruit of the vine,
which he would drink anew with them in the Kingdom
of his Father. The gesture which he made in the break
ing of bread, and in offering it to them, according to
the custom of the heads of Jewish families, was deeply
engraven on their memories. Filled with a tender sad
ness, they forgot the stranger : it was Jesus they saw
holding the bread, then breaking and offering it to them.
These recollections engrossed them to such an extent,
that theyscarcely perceived that their companion, anxious
to continue his journey, had quitted them. And when they
had awakened out of their reverie: "Did we not perceive,"
they said, " something strange ? Do you not remember
how our hearts burned while he talked with us by the
way ? And the prophecies which he cited, proved
clearly that Messiah must suffer before entering into
his glory." " Did you not recognize him at the breaking
of bread ? " " Yes : up to that time our eyes were closed ;
they were only opened when he vanished." The con
viction of the two disciples was that they had seen
Jesus. They returned with all haste to Jerusalem.

12 THE APOSTLES.

The main body of the disciples were, just at that
moment, assembled at the house of Peter. Night had
completely set in. Each was relating his impressions,
and what he had seen and heard. The general belief
already willed that Jesus had risen. At the entrance
of the two disciples, the brethren hastened to speak to
them of that which was called, " the vision of Peter."
They, on their side, told what had befallen them on
the way to Emmaus, and how that they had recognized
him in the breaking of bread. The imaginations of
everyone became quite excited. The doors were shut ;
for they feared the Jews. Oriental cities are silent
after sunset. The silence, hence, for some moments in
the interior was frequently profound. Every slight
sound which was accidentally produced was interpreted
in the sense of the common expectation. Expectation,
as is usual, was the progenitor of its object. During a
moment of silence, a slight breath of wind passed over
the face of the assembly. At these decisive times, a
current of air, a creaking window, a casual murmur,
suffices to fix the beliefs of people for centuries. At the
same moment the breath of air was felt, they believed
that they heard sounds. Some declared that they had
seen the word schalom, " happiness " or " peace." This
was the ordinary salutation of Jesus, and the word by
which he signalized his presence. It was impossible
to doubt ; Jesus was present ; he was there, in the
assembly. It was his dear voice ; everyone recognized
it. This idea was the more easily accepted, inasmuch
as Jesus had said to them, that as often as they came
together in his name, he would be in the midst of
them. It was then an accepted fact, that on Sunday
evening, Jesus had appeared before his assembled dis
ciples. Some of them pretended to have distinguished
the marks of the nails in his hands and his feet, and in
his side the trace of the spear thrust. According to a
widely-spread tradition, this was the self-same evening
that he breathed upon his disciples the holy spirit.

THE APOSTLES. 13

The idea, at least, that his breath had passed over them
on re-assembling, was generally admitted.

Such were the incidents of that day, which has de
cided the fate of humanity. The opinion that Jesus
had risen was, on that day, established in an irrevocable
manner. The sect, which was believed to be extin
guished by the death of the Master, was, from that
instant, assured of a great future.

Some doubts were, nevertheless, ventilated. The
apostle, Thomas, who was not present at the meeting on
Sunday evening, avowed that he envied those who had
seen the marks of the spear and of the nails. Eight
days after, this envy, it is said, was allayed. But there
has attached to him, in consequence, some slight blame
and a mild reproach. By an instinctive feeling of ex
quisite justness, they understood that the ideal was not
to be touched with hands, and that it must not be
subjected to the test of experience. Noli me tangere
(touch me not) is the motto of all great affection. The
sense of touch leaves nothing to faith ; the eye, a purer
arid more noble organ than the hand, which nothing can
sully, and by which nothing is sullied, became very soon
a superfluous witness. A singular sentiment began to
grow up ; any hesitation was held to be a mark of dis
loyalty and lack of love ; one was ashamed to remain
behind hand, and one interdicted oneself from desiring
to see. The dictum : " Blessed are they who have not
seen and yet believed," became the key-note of the
situation. It was thought to be a thing so much more
generous to believe without proof. The really sincere
friends denied having seen any vision. Just as, in later
times, Saint Louis refused to be a witness to an euchar-
istic miracle, so as not to detractfrom the merits of faith.
From that time, credulity became a hideous emulation,
and a kind of out-bidding one another The merit con
sisted in believing without having seen ; faith at any
cost ; gratuitous faith ; the faith vhich went as far as
folly — was exalted, as if it were the first of the gifts

14 THE APOSTLES.

of the soul. The credo quia absurdum (I believe be
cause I cannot understand) was established. The law
of Christian dogmas was to be a strange progression,
which no impossibility should be able to prevent. A
sort of chivalrous sentiment prevented one from even
looking back. The dogmas, the most dear to piety,
those to which it was to attach itself with the most
heedless frenzy, were the most repugnant to reason, in
consequence of that touching idea, which the moral
value of faith augments in proportion to the difficulty
in believing, the reason of man not being compelled to
prove any love when he admits that which is clear.

The first days were hence a period of in tense feverish-
ness, in which the faithful, infatuated with one another,
and imposing one's fancies each upon the other, mutu
ally carried away, and imparting to each other the most
exalted notions. Visions were multiplied without num
ber. The evening assemblies were the most common
occasions when they were produced. When the doors
were closed, and when each was beset with his fixed
idea, the first who was believed to hear the sweet word,
schalom, " salutation," or " peace," would give the sig
nal. All would then listen, and would soon hear the
very same thing. It was hence a great joy to those
unsophisticated souls to know that Jesus was in the
midst of them. Each tasted of the sweetness of that
thought, and believed himself to be favoured with some
inward colloquy. Other visions were noised abroad of a
different description, and recalled those of the sojourners
to Emmaus. $ During mealtime, Jesus was seen to ap
pear, taking the bread, blessing it, breaking it, and
offering it to him who had been honoured with a vision
of himself. In a few days, a whole string of stories,
greatly differing in details, but inspired by the same
spirit of love, and of absolute faith, was invented and
spread abroad. It is the gravest of errors to suppose
that legends require any length of time to be formed.
Legend is sometimes born in a day. On Sunday even-

THE APOSTLES. 15

ing (16 of Nisan, 5th April), the resurrection of Jesus
was held to be a reality. Eight days after, the cha
racter of the life of the risen one, which had been con
ceived for him, was determined in regard at least to
three essentials.

CHAPTER II.

DEPARTURE OF THE DISCIPLES FROM JERUSALEM —
SECOND GALILEAN LIFE OF JESUS.

THE most eager desire of those who have lost a dear
friend, is to revisit the places where they have lived
with them. It was, doubtless, this sentiment which, a
few days after the events of the Passover, induced the
disciples to return into Galilee. From the moment of
the arrest of Jesus, and immediately after his death, it
is probable that many of the disciples had already found
their way to the northern provinces. At the time of
the resurrection, a rumour was spread abroad, according
to which, it was in Galilee that he would be seen again.
Some of the women who had been to the sepulchre
came back with the report that the angel had said to
them that Jesus had already preceded them into Galilee.
Others said that it was Jesus himself who had ordered
them to go there. Now and then some people said that
they themselves remembered that he had said so during
his life time. What is certain is, that at the end of a
few days, probably after the Paschal Feast of the Pass
over had been quite over,, the disciples believed they
had a command to return into their own country, and
to it accordingly they returned. Perhaps the visions
began to abate at Jerusalem. A species of melancholy
seized them. The brief appearances of Jesus were not
sufficient to compensate for the enormous void left by

16 THE APOSTLES.

his absence. In a melancholy mood, they thought ol
the lake and of the beautiful mountains where they
had received a foretaste of the Kingdom of God. The
women, especially, wished, at any cost, to return to the
country where they had enjoyed so much happiness.
It must be observed that the order to depart came
especially from them. That odious city weighed them
down. They longed to see once more the ground
where they had possessed him whom they loved, well
assured in advance of meeting him again there.

The majority of the disciples then departed, full of
joy and hope, perhaps in the company of the caravan,
which took back the pilgrims from the Feast of the
Passover. What they hoped to find in Galilee, were not
only transient visions, but Jesus himself to continue
with them, as he had done before his death. An in
tense expectation filled their souls. » Was he goingf to
restore the Kingdom of Israel/to found definitely the
Kingdom of God, and, as was said, "Reveal his justice?"
Everything was possible. They already called to mind
the smiling landscapes where they had enjoyed his
presence. Many believed that he had given to them a
rendezvous upon a mountain, probably the same to
which with them there clung so many sweet recollec
tions. Never, it is certain, had there been a more
pleasant journey. All their dreams of happiness were
on the point of being realized. They were going to
see him once more ! And, in fact, they did see him
again Hardly restored to their harmless chimeras,
they Lelieved themselves to be in the midst of the
Gospel dispensation period. It was now drawing near
to the end of April, The ground is then strewn with
red anemones, which were probably those " lilies of the
fields " from which Jesus delighted to draw his similes.
At each step, his words were brought to mind, adher
ing, as it were, to the thousand accidental objects they
met by the way. Here was the tree, the flower, the
seed, fr m which he had taken his parables : there was

THE APOSTLES. 17

the hill on which he delivered his most touching dis
courses ; here was the little ship from which he taught.
It was like the recommencement of a beautiful dream.
Like a vanished illusion which had reappeared. The
enchantment seemed to revive. The sweet Galilean
11 Kingdom of God " had recovered its sway. The
clear atmosphere, the mornings upon the shore or upon
the mountain, the nights passed on the lakes watching
the nets, all these returned again to them in distinct
visions. They saw him everywhere where they had
lived with him. Of course it was not the joy of the
first enjoyment. Sometimes the lake had to them the
appearance of being very solitary. But a great love is
satisfied with little. If all of us, while we are alive,
could surreptitiously, once a year, and during a moment
long enough to exchange but a few words, behold again
those loved ones whom we have lost — death would not
be death !

Such was the state of mind of this faithful band, in
this short period when Christianity seemed to return
for a moment to his cradle and bid to him an eternal
adieu. The principal disciples, Peter, Thomas,
Nathaniel, the sons of Zebedee, met again on the shores
of the lake, and henceforth lived together ; they had
taken up again their former calling of fishermen, at
Bethsaida or at Capernaum. The Galilean women were
no doubt with them. They had insisted more than the
others on that return, which was to them a heartfelt
love. This was their last act in the establishment of
Christianity. From that moment, they disappear.
Faithful to their love, their wish was to quit no more
the country in which they had tasted their greatest de
light. They were quickly forgotten, and, as the
Galilean Christianity possessed but little of futurity, the
remembrance of them was completely lost in certain
ramifications of the tradition. These touching de
moniacs, these converted fisherwomen, these actual
founders of Christianity, Mary Magdalene, Mary

]8 THE APOSTLES.

Cleophas, Joanna, Susanna, all passed into the condition
of forgotten saints. St. Paul knew them not. The
i'aith which they had created almost consigned them to
oblivion. We must come down to the middle ages
before we find justice done them ; then, one of them,
Mary Magdalene, takes her proper place in the Chris
tian hierarchy.

The visions, at first, on the lake appear to have been
pretty frequent. On board these crafts where they had
come in contact with God, how many times had the dis
ciples not seen again their Divine Friend ? The
simplest circumstances brought him back to them.
Once they had toiled all night without taking a single
fish ; suddenly the nets were filled ; this was a miracle.
It appeared that some one from the land had said to
them : " Cast your nets to the right." Peter and John
regarded one another. " It is the Lord," said John.
Peter, who was naked, covered himself hastily with his
fisher's coat, and cast himself into the sea, in order to
go to the invisible councillor. At other times Jesus
came and partook of their simple repasts. One day,
when they had done fishing, they were surprised to find
lighted coals, with fish placed upon them, and bread
near by. A lively sense of their feasts of past times
crossed their minds, since bread and fish had been
always an essential part of their diet. Jesus was in the
habit of offering these to them. After the meal they
were persuaded that Jesus himself had sat by their
side, and had presented to them those victuals which
had already become to them eucharistic and sacred*
John and Peter were the ones who were specially
favoured with those private conversations with the well-
beloved phantom * One day, Peter, dreaming, perhaps
(but what am I saying ! their life on the shore was it
not a perpetual dream ?) believed that he heard Jesus
ask him : " Lovest thou Me ? " The question was re
peated three times. Peter, wholly possessed by a tender
*nd sad sentiment, imagined that he responded, " Yea,

THE APOSTLES. 19

Lord, Thou knowest that I love thee," and each time
the apparition said : " Feed my sheep." On another
occasion Peter told John, in confidence, a strange
dream. He had dreamt he had been walking with the
Master, John was following a few steps behind. Jesus
said to him, in terms most obscure, which seemed to
announce to him a prison or a violent death, and re
peated to him at different times : " Follow me." Peter,
thereupon, pointing his finger to John, who was follow
ing them, asked : " Lord, and this man ? " " If I will,"
said Jesus, " that he tarry till I come, ,vhat is that to
thee ? Follow thou me." After the execution of
Peter, John remembered that dream, and saw in it a
prediction of the manner of death his friend had died.
He recounted it to his disciples ; the latter believed to
discover in it the assurance that their master would
not die before the final advent of Jesus.

These grand and melancholy dreams, these never
ceasing conversations, broken off and recommenced with
the death of the cherished one, occupied the days and
months. The sympathy of Galilee for the prophet
that the Hierosolymites of Jerusalem had put to death
was re-awakened. More than five hundred persons
were already devoted to the memory of Jesus. In
default of the lost master, they obeyed the disciples,
the most authoritative — Peter — in particular. One day,
when following in the suite of their spiritual chiefs, the
faithful Galileans had ascended one of those mountains
whither Jesus had often conducted them, and they
imagined that they saw him again. The atmosphere
of these heights is full of strange mirages. The same
vision which formerly had occurred to the most
intimate disciples was once more produced. The
whole assembly believed that they saw the divine
spectre displayed in the clouds ; all fell on their faces
and worshipped. The sentiment which the clear
horizon of those mountains inspires is the idea of the
extent of the world, and the desire of conquering it.

20 THE APOSTLES.

On one of the neighbouring peaks Satan, pointing out
to Jesus with his finger the kingdoms of the world and
all their glory, offered to give them to him, it is stated,
if he would only fall down and worship him On this
occasion, it was Jesus who, from the tops of these sacred
summits, showed to his disciples the whole world, and
assured them of the future. They descended from the
mountain, persuaded that the son of God had given to
them the command to convert the whole human race,
and promised to be with them till the end of time. A
strange ardour, a divine fire, pervaded them at the close
of these conversations. They regarded themselves as
the missionaries of the world, capable of performing
supernatural deeds. St. Paul saw several of those who
had assisted at that extraordinary scene. At the end
of twenty-five years the impression they left was still
as strong and as lively as on the first day.

Nearly a year rolled on, during which they led this
life, suspended between heaven and earth. The charm,
far from diminishing, increased. It is a property of
great and holy things, always to become grander and
more pure of themselves. The sentiment in regard to
a loved one who has been lost, is certainly keener at a
distance of time, than on the morrow after the death.
The greater the distance, the more the sentiment gains
strength. The sorrow, which at first is a part of it
and, in a sense, lessens it, is changed into a serene
piety. The image of the defunct one is transfigured,
idealized, becomes the soul of life, the principle of all
action, the source of all joy, the oracle which is con
sulted, the consolation which is sought in moments of
despondency. Death is a necessary condition of every
apotheosis. Jesus, so beloved during his life, was in
this way more so after his last breath, or rather his
last breath was the commencement of his actual life in
the bosom of the church. He became the intimate
friend, the confidant, the travelling companion, the
one who, at the turning point of the route, joins you,

THE APOSTLES* 21

follows you, sits down at table with you, and reveals
himself at the moment of disappearance. The absolute
lack of scientific exactitude in the minds of these new
believers, made it that one could not weigh any
question in regard to the nature of one's existence.
They represented him as impassible, endowed with a
subtle body, passing through opaque walks, now
visible, now invisible, but always living. Sometimes
they imagined that his body was not composed of
matter; that it was pure shadow or apparition. At
other times there was attributed to him a material
body, with flesh and bones ; through a na'ive scrupulous
ness, as though the hallucination had inclined to take
precautions against himself, he was made to drink and
eat ; nay, it was maintained that some of them had
touched his body gently with their hands. Their ideas
on this point were extremely vague and uncertain. We
have not until now dreamt of putting a frivolous
question ; at the same time the present is one not
easily of solution. Whilst Jesus had risen in this real
manner, that is to say. in the hearts of those who
loved him ; whilst the immovable conviction of the
apostles was being formed, and the faith of the world
prepared, in what place did the worms consume the
inanimate body which on the Saturday evening had
been deposited in the tomb ? People ignore always
this point, for, naturally, the Christian traditions can
do nothing to clear up the subject. It is the spirit
which quickeneth ; the flesh is nothing. The resurrec
tion was the triumph of the idea over the reality. Now
that the idea had entered upon its immortality, what
mattered the body ?

About the years 80 or 83, when the actual text of
the first Gospel received its final additions, the Jews
already had on this matter a settled opinion. If
they are to be believed, the disciples might have corne
by night and stolen away his body. The Christian
conscience was alarmed at this rumour, and in order to

22 THE APOSTLES.

cut short such an objection, they invented the circum
stance of the military guard, and of the seal put on the
sepulchre. That circumstance, to be found only in the
first gospel, mixed up with legends of doubtful
authority, is wholly inadmissible. But the explanation
of the Jews, although irrefutable, is far from being
altogether satisfactory. It can hardly be admitted that
those who had so firmly believed Jesus had risen from
the dead, were the same persons who had taken away
his body. Little accustomed as these men were to
reflection, one can hardly imagine so singular an
illusion. It must be remembered that the little church
at that moment was completely dispersed. It had no
expectation, no centralisation, no regular method of
procedure. Beliefs sprang up on every hand, and were
then amalgamated as best they might. The contradic
tions between the narratives, upon which we base the
incidents of the Sabbath morning, prove that the
rumours were spread through the most diverse
channels, and that they did not care much about
bringing them into accord. It is possible that the
body may have been taken away by some of the
disciples, and transported by them into Galilee. The
others, who remained at Jerusalem, may not have been
cognizant of the fact. On the other hand, the disciples,
who may have carried the body into Galilee, could not
at first have any knowledge of the stories which were
current at Jerusalem, so that the belief in the resurrec
tion may have been invented after- they went away,
and must, therefore, have surprised them. They did
not reclaim, and, even had they done so, it would have
unsettled nothing. When it is a question of miracles a
tardy correction is not feared. * No material difficulty
ever impedes a sentiment from being developed and of
creating the fictions it has need of. In the recent
history of the miracle of Salette, the error was demon
strated by the clearest of evidence, but that did nob
hinder the belief from springing up, and the faith from

APOSTLES. 23

spreading. It is allowable also to suppose that the
disappearance of the body was the work of the Jews.
Probably they thought by that to prevent the
tumultuous scenes which might be enacted over the
body of a man so popular as Jesus. Probably they
wished to prevent people from making a noisy funeral
display, or from raising a tomb to that just man.
Finally, who knows that the disappearance of the
corpse was not the work of the proprietor of the garden,
or of the gardener. The proprietor, according to all
accounts, was a stranger to the sect. His sepulchre
was chosen because it was the nearest to Golgotha, and
because they were pressed for time. Probably he was
dissatisfied with the mode of taking possession of his
property, arid had the body removed. In good truth, the
details reported in the fourth gospel, of the linen left in
the sepulchre, and the napkin folded carefully away in
the corner, does not accord with such an hypothesis.

This last circumstance would lead one to suppose
that a woman's hand had crept in there. The five
narratives of the visit of the women to the tomb are so
confused and embarrassing, that it is certainly quite
allowable for us to suppose that they contained some
misapprehension. The female conscience, when domi
nated by passion, is capable of the most extravagant
illusions. Often it becomes the abettor of its own
dreams. To these sort of incidents, for the purpose of
having them considered as marvellous, nobody deliber
ately deceives ; but everybody, without thinking of it,
is led to connive at them. Mary Magdalene, according
to the language of the times, had been " possessed of
seven devils." In all this it is necessary to take account
of the lack of the precision of mind of the women of the
East, of their absolute want of education, and of the
peculiar shade of their sincerity. Exalted conviction
renders any return upon herself impossible. When the
sky is seen everywhere, one is led to put oneself at
times in the place of the sky.

24 THE APOSTLES.

Let us draw a veil over these mysteries. In states
of religious crises, everything being regarded as divine,
the greatest effects may be the results of the most
trifling causes. If we were witnesses of the strange
facts which are at the origin of all the works of faith,
we should discover circumstances which to us would
not appear proportioned to the importance of the
results, and others which would make us smile. Our
old cathedrals are reckoned among the most beautiful
objects in the world ; one cannot enter them without
being in some sort inebriated with the infinite. Yet
these splendid marvels are almost always the fruit of
some little conceit. And what does it matter defini
tively. The result alone counts in such matters. Faith
purifies all. The material incident which has induced
belief in the resurrection was not the true cause of the
resurrection. That which raised Jesus from the dead
was love. That love was so powerful that a petty acci
dent sufficed to erect the edifice of a universal faith. If
JQSUS had been less loved, if faith in the resurrection
had had less reason for its establishment, these kind of
accidents would have occurred in vain, nothing would
have come out of them. A grain of sand causes the fall
of a mountain, when the moment for the fall of the
mountain has come. The greatest things proceed at
once from the greatest and smallest causes. Great
causes alone are real ; little ones only serve to deter
mine the production of an effect which has for a long
time been in preparation.

THE APOSTLES. 25

CHAPTER III

RETURN OF THE APOSTLES TO JERUSALEM. — END OF
THE PERIOD OF APPARITIONS.

THE apparitions, in the meanwhile, as happens always
in movements of credulous enthusiasm, began to abate.
Popular chimeras resemble contagious maladies; they
grow stale quickly and change their form. The activity
of these ardent souls had already turned in another
direction. What they believed to have heard from the
lips of the dear risen one, was the order to go forth and
preach, and to convert the world. But where should
they commence ? Naturally, at Jerusalem. The return
to Jerusalem was then resolved upon by those who at
that time had the direction of the sect. As these
journeys were ordinarily made by caravan at the time
of the feasts, we now suppose with all manner of like
lihood, that the return in question took place at the
Feast of Tabernacles at the close of the year 33, or the
Paschal Feast of the year 34. Galilee was thus aban
doned by Christianity, and abandoned $ for ever. The
little church which remained there continued, no doubt,
to exist ; but we hear it no more spoken of. It was
probably broken up, like all the rest, by the frightful
disaster which then overtook the country during the
war of Vespasian ; the wreck of the dispersed community
sought refuge beyond Jordan. After the war it was not
Christianity which was brought back into Galilee ; it
was Judaism. In the ii., iii., and iv. centuries, Galilee
was a country wholly Jewish ; the centre of Judaism,
the country of the Talmud. Galilee thus counted but
an hour in the history of Christianity ; but it was the
sacred hour, par excellence ; it gave to the new religion
that which has made it endure— its poetry, its penetra
ting charms. " The Gospel," after the manner of the
synoptics, was a Galilean work. But we shall attempt

26 THE APOSTLES.

further on to show that "The Gospel " thus extended,
has been the principal cause of the success of Chris
tianity, and continues to be the surest guarantee of its
future. It is probable that a fraction of the little school
which surrounded Jesus in his last days remained at
Jerusalem. At the moment of separation the belief in
the resurrection was already established. That belief
was thus developed from two points of view, each
having a perceptibly different aspect ; and such is, no
doubt, the cause of the complete divergencies which
are remarked in the narratives of the apparitions. Two
traditions, the one Galilean, the other Hierosolymitish,
were formed ; according to the first, all the apparitions
(except those of the first period) had taken place in
Galilee ; according to the second, all had taken place at
Jerusalem. The accord of the two fractions of the little
church on the fundamental dogma, naturally only
served to confirm the common belief: They embraced
each other effusively; they repeated with the same faith,
" He is risen." Perhaps the joy and the enthusiasm
which were the consequences of this agreement, led to
some other visions. It is about this period that we
can place the vision of James, mentioned by Saint
Paul. James was the brother, or at least, a relation of
Jesus. We do not find that he had accompanied Jesus
on his last sojourn to Jerusalem. He probably went
there with the apostles, when the latter quitted Galilee.
All the chief apostles had had their visions ; it was hard
that this " brother of the Lord," should not also have
his. It was, it seems, an eucharistic vision, that is to
say, in which Jesus appeared taking and breaking the
bread. Later, those portions of the Christian family
who attached themselves to James, those that were
called the Hebrews, changed this vision to the same
day as the resurrection, and wanted it to be looked
upon as the first of all.

In fact, it is very remarkable that the family of
Jesus, some of whose members daring his life had been

TTIE APOSTLES. 2?

incredulous and hostile to his mission, constituted now
a part of the Church, and held in it a very exalted
position. One is led to suppose that the reconciliation
took place during the sojourn of the apostles in
Galilee. The celebrity which had attached itself to
the name of their relative, those five thousand persona
who believed in him, and were assured of having seen
him after he had arisen, served to make an impression
on their minds. From the time of the definite estab
lishment of the apostles at Jerusalem, wre find with
them Mary, the mother of Jesus, and the brothers
of Jesus. In what concerns Mary, it appears that John,
thinking in this to obey a recommendation of the
Master, had adopted and taken her to his own home.
He perhaps took her back to Jerusalem. This woman,
whose personal history and character have remained
veiled in obscurity, assumed hence great importance.
The words that the evangelist put into the mouth of
some unknown women : " Blessed is the womb that
bare thee, and the babes which thou has sucked,"
began to be verified. It is probable that Mary sur
vived her son a few years. As for the brothers of
Jesus, their history is wrapped in obscurity. Jesus had
several brothers and sisters. It seemed probable, how
ever, that in the class of persons which were called
" Brothers of the Lord," there were included relations
in the second degree. The question is only of moment
so far as it concerns James. This James the Just, or
" brother of the Lord," whom we shall see playing a
great part in the first thirty years of Christianity, wa?
the James, the son of Alphseus, who appears to have
been a cousin germain of Jesus, or a whole brother oi
Jesus? The data in respect of him are altogether
uncertain and contradictory. What we do know of this
James represents him to be such a different person
from Jesus, that we refuse to believe that two men so
dissimilar were born of the same mother. If Jesus was
the true founder of Christianity, James was its most

THE APOSTLES,

dangerous enemy; he nearly ruined everything by his
narrow-mindedness. Later, it was certainly believed
that James the Just was a whole brother of Jesus.
But perhaps some confusion was mixed up with the
subject.

Be that as it may, the apostles henceforth separated
no more, except to make temporary journeys. Jeru
salem became their head-quarters ; they seemed to be
afraid to disperse, while certain acts served to reveal
in them the prepossession of being opposed to return
again into Galilee, which latter had dissolved its little
society. An express order of Jesus is supposed to have
interdicted their quitting Jerusalem, before, at least,
the great manifestations which were to take place.
Apparitions became more and more rare. They 'were
spoken much less of, and people began to believe that
they would not see the Master again until His grand
appearance in the clouds. Peoples' thoughts were
turned with great force towards a promise which it
was supposed Jesus had made. During his life-time,
Jesus, it was said, had often spoken of the Holy Spirit,
which was understood to mean a personification of
divine wisdom. He had promised his disciples that
the Spirit would nerve them in the combats that they
would have to engage in, would be their inspirer in
difficulties, and their advocate, if they had to speak in
public. When the visions became rare, the brethren
found compensation in this Spirit, which they looked
upon as a consoler, as another self which Jesus had
bequeathed to his friends. Sometimes it was supposed
that Jesus suddenly presented himself in the midst of
his disciples assembled, and breathed on them out of his
own mouth a current of vivifying air. At other times
the disappearance of Jesus was regarded as a premoni
tion of the coming of the Spirit. It was believed that
in the apparitions he had promised the descent of this
Spirit. Many people established an intimate connec
tion between this descent and the restoration of the

THE APOSTLES. 29

kingdom of Israel. All the fervency of imagination
which the sect had displayed in inventing the legend
of Jesus risen again, was now about to be employed to
create an assemblage of pious believers, in regard to
the descent of the Spirit and its marvellous gifts. It
seems, however, that a grand apparition of Jesus had
taken place at Bethany or upon the Mount of Olives.
Certain traditions annexed it to that vision of the final
recommendations of Jesus, and the reiterated promise
of the sending down of the Holy Spirit, the act which was
to invest the disciples with the power of remitting
sins. The features of these apparitions became more
and more vague ; they were confounded one with
another; and people came not to think much about
them. It was an accepted fact that Jesus was living ;
that he manifested himself by a number of apparitions,
sufficient to prove his existence; that he would again
be manifested in some partial visions, until the grand
final revelation which would be the consummation of all.
Thus, Saint Paul presents the vision he had on the way
to Damascus, as of the same order as those we have
just been speaking of. At all events, it was admitted,
in an idealistic sense, that the Master was to be with
his disciples and he would remain with them unto the
end. In the first period the apparitions were very
frequent. Jesus was conceived as dwelling permanently
on the earth and fulfilling more or less the functions of
terrestrial life. When the visions became rare, they
were made to conform to another idea. Jesus was
represented as having entered into his glory, and as
being seated at the right hand of his Father. "He
is ascended to Heaven," it was said. This statement
rested mainly on a vague conception of the idea, ^ or on
an induction. But it was converted by many into a
material scene. It was desired that it should follow the
last vision common to all the apostles, and in which he
gave them his supreme recommendations. Jesus was
received up into Heaven. Later, the scene was

30 THE APOSTLES.

developed and became a complete legend. It was
recounted that some heavenly messengers, agreeably to
the divine manifestations, most brilliant, appeared at
the moment when a cloud enveloped him, and con
soled his disciples by the assurance of his return in
the clouds, resembling wholly the scene of which they
had just been witnesses. * The death of Moses had been
surrounded in the popular imagination with circum
stances of the same kind. Perhaps they also called to
mind the ascension of Elias. A tradition placed the
locality of this scene near Bethany, upon the summit
of the Mount of Olives. That quarter remained very
dear to his disciples, doubtless because Jesus had lived
there.

The legend would make it appear that the disciples,
after that marvellous scene, re-entered Jerusalem
" with joy." For ourselves, it is with sadness that we
have to say to Jesus a final adieu. To have found him
living again his shadow life, has been to us a great
consolation. That second life of Jesus, a pale image
of the first, is yet full of charm. Now, all scent of
him is lost. Raised on a cloud to the right hand of
his Father, he has left us with men, but, oh, Heaven I
the fall is terrible ! The reign of poetry is past. Mary
Magdalene, retired to her native village, buried there
her recollections, In consequence of that eternal
injustice which ordains that man appropriates to him
self alone the work in which woman has had as great
a share as he, Cephas eclipsed her, and made her to be
forgotten ! No more ssrrnons on the Mount; no more
of the possessed of devils healed ; no more courtesans
touched ; no more of those strange female fellow
workers in the work of redemption whom Jesus had not
repelled ! God has verily disappeared. No ; history of
the church is to be most often henceforth the history
of treasons to blot out the name of Jesus. But such
as it is, that history is still a hymn to his glory. The
words and the image of the illustrious Nazarene shall

THE APOSTLES

remain in the midst of infinite miseries as a sublime
ideal. We shall comprehend better how great it was
when we have seen how little were his disciples.

CHAPTER IV.

DESCENT OF THE HOLY SPIRIT — ECSTATICAL AND
PROPHETICAL PHENOMENA.

MEAN, narrow, ignorant, inexperienced they were, as
completely so as it was possible to be. Their simplicity
of mind was extreme ; their credulity had no limits.
But they had one quality : they loved their Master to
foolishness. The recollection of Jesus was the only
moving power of their lives ; it was perpetually with
them, and it was clear that they lived only for him, who,
during two or three years, had so strangely attached and
seduced them. For souls of a secondary standard, who can
not love God directly, that is to say, discover truth, create
the beautiful, do right of themselves, salvation consists
in loving some one in whom there shines a reflection of
the true, the beautiful, and the good. The great
majority of mankind require a worship of two degrees.
The multitude of worshippers desire an intermediary
between it and God.

When a person has succeeded in attracting to him
self, by an elevated moral bond, several other persons,
when he dies, it always happens that the survivors, who,
up to that time are often divided by rivalries and dis
sensions, beget a strong friendship the one for the other.
A thousand cherished images of the past, which they re
gret, become to them a common treasure. There is a
manner of loving the dead, which consists in loving
those with whom we have known him. We are anxious
to meet one another, in order to re-call the happy times

32 THE APOSTLES.

which are no more. A profound saying of Jesus is
found then to be true to the letter : The dead one is
present in the midst of those who are united again by
his memory.

The affection that the disciples had the one for the
other, while Jesus was alive, was thus enhanced tenfold
after his death. They formed a very small and very
retired society, and lived exclusively by themselves. At
Jerusalem they numbered about one-hundred-and-
twenty. Their piety was active, and, as yet, completely
restrained by the forms of Jewish piety. The temple
was then the chief place of devotion. They worked, no
doubt, for a living ; but at that time, manual labour in
Jewish society engaged very few. Everyone had a
trade, but that trade by no means hindered a man from
being educated and well-bred. With us, material wants
are so difficult to satisfy, that the man living by his
hands is obliged to work twelve or fifteen hours a day ;
the man of leisure alone can follow intellectual pur
suits ; the acquisition of instruction is a rare and costly
affair. But in those old societies (of which the East of
our days gives still an idea), in those climates, where
nature is so prodigal to man and so little exacting, in
the life of the labourer there was plenty of leisure. A
sort of common instruction puts every man au courant
of the ideas of the times. Mere food and clothing satis
fied their wants ; a few hours of moderate labour pro
vided these. The rest was given up to day dreaming,
and to passion. Passion had attained in the minds of
those people a decree of energy which is to us incon
ceivable. The Jews of that time appear to us to be in
truth possessed, each pursuing with a blind fatality the
idea with which he had been seized.

The dominant idea in the Christian community, at the
moment at which we are now arrived, and when appari
tions had ceased, was the coming of the Holy Spirit.
People were believed to receive it in the form of a
mysterious breath, which passed over the assembly.

THE APOSTLES. S3

Mary pretended that it was the breath of Jesus himself.
Every inward consolation, every bold movement, every
flush of enthusiasm, every feeling of lively, and pleasant
gaiety, which was experienced without knowing whence
it came, was the work of the Spirit. These simple con
sciences referred, as usual, to some exterior cause the
exquisite sentiments which were being created in them.
It was in the assemblies, particularly, that these fan
tastic phenomena of illumination were produced. When
all were assembled, and when they awaited in silence,
inspiration from on high, a murmur, any noise what
ever, was believed to be the coming of the Spirit. In
the early times, it was the apparitions of Jesus which
were produced in this manner. Now the turn of ideas
had changed. It was the divine breath which passed
over the little church, and filled it with a celestial
effluvia.

These beliefs were strengthened by notions drawn
from the Old Testament. The prophetic spirit is re
presented in the Hebrew books as a breathing which
penetrates man and inspires him. In the beautiful
vision of Elijah, God passes by in the form of a gentle
wind, which produces a slight rustling noise. This
ancient imagery had handed down to later ages beliefs
analogous to those of the Spiritualists of our days. In
the ascension of Isaiah, the coming of the Spirit is
accompanied by a certain rustling at the doors. More
often, however, people regarded this coming as another
baptism, to wit, the " baptism of the Spirit," far superior
to that of John. The hallucinations of touch being very
frequent among persons so nervous and so excited, the
least current of air, accompanied by a shuddering in the
midst of the silence, was considered as the passage of
the Spirit. One conceived that he felt it ; soon every
body felt it ; and the enthusiasm was communicated
from one to another. The correspondence of these
phenomena with those which are to be found amongs
the visionaries of all times is easily apprehended. They

34 THE APOSTLES.

are produced daily, partly under the influence of the
Acts of the Apostles, in the English or American sects
of Quakers, Jumpers, Shakers, Irvingites ; amongst the
Mormons ; in the camp-meetings and revivals of
America ; we have seen them reproduced amongst our
selves in the sect called the Spiritualists. But an im
mense difference ought to be made between aberrations,
which are without bounds, and without a future, and
the illusions which have accompanied the establishment
of a new religious code for humanity.

Amongst all these " descents of the Spirit," which
appear to have been frequent enough, there was one
which left a profound impression on the nascent Church.
One day, when the brethren were assembled, a thunder
storm burst forth. A violent wind threw open the win
dows: the heavens were on fire. Thunderstorms, in
these countries, are accompanied by prodigious sheets ol
lightning; the atmosphere is, as it were, everywhere
furrowed with ridges of flame. Whether the electric
fluid had penetrated the room itself, or whether a dazz
ling flash of lightning had suddenly illuminated the faces
of all, everyone was convinced that the Spirit had
entered, and that it had alighted on the head of each in
the form of tongues of fire. It was a prevalent opinion
in the theurgic schools of Syria, that the communication
of the Spirit was produced by a divine fire, and under
the form of a mysterious glare. People fancied them
selves to be present at the splendours of Sinai, at a
divine manifestation analogous to those of former days.
The baptism of the Spirit thenceforth became also a
baptism of fire. * The baptism of the Spirit and of fire
was opposed to, and greatly preferred to, the baptism of
water, the only baptism which John had known. The
baptism of fire, was only prepared on rare occasions. The
apostles and the disciples of the first guest-chamber
alone were reputed to have received it. But the idea
that the Spirit had alighted on. them in the form of jets
of flame, resembling tongues of fire, gave rise to a series

THE APOSTLES. o5

of singular ideas, which took a foremost place in the
thought of the period.

The tongue of the inspired man was supposed to receive
a kind of sacrament. It was pretended that many prophets,
before their mission, had been stammerers ; that the Son
of God had passed a coal over their lips, which purified
them and conferred on them the gift of eloquence. In
pieaching, the man was supposed not to speak of his
own volition. His tongue was considered as the organ
of divinity which inspired it. These tongues of fire
appeared a striking- symbol. People were convinced that
God desired to signify in this manner that he poured out
upon the apostles his most precious gifts of eloquence,
and of inspiration. But they did not htop there. Jeru
salem was, like the majority of the large cities of the
East, a city in which many languages were spoken. The
diversity of tongues was one of the difficulties which
one found there in the way of propagating a universal
form of faith. One of the things, moreover, which alarmed
the apostles, at the commencement of a ministry destined
to embrace the world, was the number of ln,ngaages whica
was spoken there : they were asking themselves incess
antly how they could learn so many tongues. " The gift of
tongues " became thus a marvellous privilege. It was
believed that the preaching of the Gospel would clear
away the obstacle which was created by the diversity of
idioms. It was imagined that, in some solemn circum
stances, the auditors had heard the apostle preaching
each in his own tongue : in other words, that the apos
tolic preaching translated itself to each of the listeners.
At other times, this was understood in a somewhat
different manner. To the apostles was attributed the
gift of knowing, by divine inspiration, all tongues, and
of speaking them at will. There was in this a liberal idea;
they meant to imply that the Gospel should have no
language of its own ; that it should be translatable into
every tongue ; and that the translation should be of the
Bame value as the original. Such was not the sentiment

36 THE APOSTLES,

of orthodox Judaism. Hebrew was for the Jews of
Jerusalem the holy tongue ; no language could be
compared to it. Translations of the Bible were lightly
esteemed, whilst the Hebrew text was scrupulously
guarded. In translations, changes and modifications were
permitted. The Jews of Egypt, and the Hellenists of
Palestine, practised, it is true, a more tolerant system.
They employed Greek in prayer, and perused constantly
Greek translations of the Bible. But the first Christian
idea was even broader. According to that idea the word
of God has no language of its own : it is free and un
hampered by idiomatic fetters ; it is delivered to all
spontaneously, and needs no interpreter. The facility
with which Christianity was detached from the Semetic
tongue which Jesus had spoken, the liberty which it left
at first each nation to create its own liturgy, and its
versions of the Bible in its natural tongue, served as a
sort of emancipation of tongues. It was generally ad-
mittted that the Messiah would gather into one all
tongues as well as all peoples. Common usage and the
promiscuity of languages were the first steps towards
that great era of universal pacification.

For the rest, the gift of tongues soon underwent a
considerable transformation, and resulted in more
extraordinary effects. Brain excitement led to ecstacy
and prophecy. In these ecstatic moments the faithful,
impelled by the Spirit, uttered inarticulate and
incoherent sounds, which were taken for the words of
a foreign language, and which they innocently sought
to interpret. At other times it was believed that the
ecstatically possessed spoke new and hitherto unknown
languages, or even the language of the angels. These
extravagant scenes, which led to abuses, did not become
habitual until a later period. j Yet it is probable that
from the earliest years of Christianity they were pro
duced. The visions of the ancient prophets had often
been accompanied by phenomena of nervous excitation.
The dythyrambic state amongst the Greeks produced

THE APOSTLES. *87

the same kind of occurrences ; the Pythia used by
preference foreign or obsolete words, which were called,
as in the apostolic phenomena, glosses. Many of the
passwords of primitive Christianity, which were properly
bilingual, or formed by anagrams, such as Abba pater,
anathema, maran-atha, were probably derived from
these strange paroxysms, intermingled with sighs, stifled
groans, ejaculations, prayers, and sudden transports,
which were taken for prophecies. It resembled a vague
music of the soul, uttered in indistinct sounds, and
which the auditors sought to transform into images and
determinate words, or rather as the prayers of the
Spirit addressed to God, in a language known to God
only, and which God knew how to interpret. No
ecstatic person, in short, understood anything of
what he uttered, and had not even any cognizance of
it. People listened with eagerness, and attributed to
the incoherent utterances the thoughts which there
and then occurred to them. Each referred to his
own tongue and ingenuously sought to explain the
unintelligible sounds by what little he actually knew of
languages. In this they always more or less succeeded,
the auditor filling in between the broken sentences the
thoughts he had in mind.

The history of fanatical sects is fruitful in in
stances of the same kind. The preachers of the
Cevennes displayed similar instances of " glossolaly."
The most striking instance, however, is that of the
"readers" of Sweden, about the years 1841-43,
Involuntary utterances, enunciations, having no mean
ing to those who uttered them, and accompanied by
convulsions and fainting fits, were for a long Time
practised daily in that little sect. The thing became
perfectly contagious, and occasioned a considerable
popular movement. Amongst the Irvingites the phe
nomenon of tongues has been produced with features
which reproduce in the most striking manner the stories
of the Acts and of Saint Paul. Our own century has

S3 THE APOSTLES.

witnessed illusive scenes of the same kind, which we
will not recount here ; for it is always unjust to
compare the inseparable credulity of a great religious
movement with the credulity which results from duiness
cf intellect.

These strange phenomena were sometimes produced
out of doors. The ecstatic persons, at the very
moment when they were a prey to their extravagant
illuminations, had the hardihood to go out and show
themselves to the multitude. They were taken for
drunken persons. Although sober-minded in point of
mysticism, Jesus had more than once presented in his
own person the ordinary phenomena of the ecstatic
state. The disciples, for two or three years, were beset
with these ideas. Prophesying was frequent and con
sidered as a gift analogous to that of tongues. Prayers,
accompanied by convulsions, rhythmic modulations,
mystic sighs, lyrical enthusiasm, songs with graceful
attitudes, were a daily exercise. A rich vein of
" canticles," " psalms," " hymns," in imitation of those
of the Old Testament, was thus found to be
open to them. Sometimes the mouth and heart
mutually accompanied one another ; sometimes the
heart sang alone, accompanied inwardly by grace. No
language being able to render the new sensations
which were produced, they indulged in an indistinct
muttering, at once sublime and puerile, in which what
one might call " the Christian language," was wafted in
a state of embryo. Christianity, not finding in the
ancient languages an appropriate instrument for its
needs, has shattered them. But whilst the new
religion was forming a language suited to its use,
centuries of obscure effort and, so to speak, of childish
prattle, were required. The style of Saint Paul, and, in
general, that of the authors of the New Testament,
what is its characteristic, if it be not stifled, halt
ing, informal, improvisation of the " glossolalist "?
Language failed them. Like the prophets, they aped

THE APOSTLES. 3D

the a,a,a, af the infant. They did not know how to
speak. The Greek and the Semetic tongues equally
betrayed them. Hence that shocking violence which
nascent Christianity inflicted on language. It might
be compared to a stutterer, in whose mouth the tones
being stifled, clash with and against each other,
and terminate in a confused medley, but yet mar
vellously expressive.

All this was very far from the sentiment of Jesus ;
but for minds penetrated with a belief in the super
natural, these phenomena possessed great importance.
The gift of tongues, in particular, was considered as an
essential sign of the new religion, and as a proof of its
truth. In any case, there resulted from it much fruit
for edification. Many Pagans were converted in this
way. Up to the third century " glossolaly " was mani
fested in a manner analogous to that described by St.
Paul, and was considered as a perpetual miracle.
Many of the sublime words of Christianity are derived
from these incoherent sighs. The general effect was
/niching and penetrating. Their manner of offering in
common their inspirations and of handing them orer to
the community for interpretation established in time
amongst the faithful a strong bond of fraternity.

As in the case of all my sties, the new sectaries led fast
ing and austere lives. Like the majority of Orientals, they
ate little, which contributed to maintain them in a state
of excitement. The sobriety of the Syrian, the cause
of his physical weakness, keeps him in a perpetual state
of fever and of nervous susceptibility. Our severe,
continuous, intellectual efforts, are impossible under
such a regimen. But this cerebal debility and muscular
laxity, produces, apparently without cause, lively alter
nations of sorrow and joy, and puts the soul in constant
relationship with God. That which was called " Godly
sorrow " passed for a Heavenly gift. All the teachings
of the Fathers concerning the life spirtual, such as John
Climacus, as Basil, as Nilus, as Arsenics, — all the

40 THE APOSTLES.

secrets of the grand art of the inward life, one of the
most glorious creations of Christianity — were in germ in
the peculiar state of mind which possessed, in their
mouths of ecstatic expectation, those illustrious ancestors
of all " The men of longings." Their moral condition
was peculiar ; they lived in the supernatural. They
acted only upon visions, dreams, and the most insigni
ficant circumstances appeared to them to be admoni
tions from heaven. Under the name of gifts of the
Holy Spirit were thus concealed the rarest and most
exquisite effusions of soul, love, piety, respectful fears,
objectless sighings. sudden languors, and spontaneous
tenderness. All the good that is born in man, with
out man having any part in it, was attributed to a
breathing from on high. Tears, above all, were
regarded as a heavenly favour. This charming gift,
the exclusive privilege of souls most good and most
pure, was produced with infinite sweetness. We know
what power, delicate natures, especially in women, find
in the divine faculty of being able to weep much. It
is to them prayer, and, assuredly, the most holy of
prayers. We must come down quite to the middle ages
to that piety, drenched with the tears of St. Bruno,
St. Bernard and St. Francis de Assisi, to find again
the chaste melancholy of those early days, when they
truly sowed in tears in order that they might reap with
joy. To weep became a pious act. Those who were
not qualified to preach, wrork, speak languages, nor
to perform miracles, wept. It might, indeed, be said
that their souls were melted, and that they desired, in
the absence of a language which would interpret their
sentiments, to display themselves outwardly, by a vivid
and brief expression of their whole inner being.

Ittlfi JOSTLES.

CHAPTER V.

FIRST CHURCH OF JERUSALEM ; IT IS ENTIRELY
CENOBITICAL.

THE custom of living together, holding the same
faith, and indulging the same expectation, necessarily
produced many common habits. Very soon rules were
framed, which made that primitive church resemble, to
some extent, the establishments of the cenobitical life,
rules with which Christianity subsequently became
acquainted. Many of the precepts of Jesus conduced
to this ; the true ideal of evangelical life is a monastery,
not a monastery enclosed with iron bars, a prison after
the type of the Middle Ages, with the separation of the
sexes, but an asylum in the midst of the world, a place
set apart for spiritual life, a free association or little
private confraternity, surrounded by a barrier, which
may serve to ward off the cares which are prejudicial
to the liberty of the Kingdom of God.

All, then, lived in common, having but one heart and
one mind. No one possessed anything which was his
own. On becoming a disciple of Jesus, one sold one's
goods and made a gift of the proceeds to the society.
The chiefs of the society then distributed the common
possessions to each, according to his needs. They lived
in the same quarter, They took their meals together,
and continued to attach to them the mystic sense that
Jesus had prescribed. They passed long hours in
prayers. Their prayers were sometimes improvised
aloud, but more often meditated in silence. Trances
were frequent, and each one believed oneself to be
constantly favoured with divine inspiration. The
concord was perfect ; no dogmatic quarrels, no disputes
in regard to precedence. The tender recollection of
Jesus effaced all dissensions. Joy, lively and deep-

42 THE APOSTLES.

seateds was in every heart. Their morals were austere,
but pervaded by a soft and tender sentiment. They
assembled in houses to pray, and to devote themselves
to ecstatic exercises. The recollection of these two or
three first years remained and seemed to them like a
terrestrial paradise, which Christianity will pursue
henceforth in all its dreams and to which it will vainly
endeavour to return. Who does not see, in fact, that
such an organisation could only be applicable to a very
small church ? But, subsequently, the monastic life will
resume on its own account that primitive ideal which
the church universal will hardly dream of realising.

That the author of the Acts, to whom we are
indebted for the picture of this primitive Christianity
at Jerusalem, has laid on his colours a little too thickly,
and, in particular, exaggerated the community of goods
which obtained in the sect, is certainly possible. The
author of the Acts is the same as the author of the
third gospel, who, in his life of Jesus, had the habit
of adapting his facts to suit his theories, and with whom
a tendency to the doctrine of ebonism, that is to say, of
absolute poverty, is very perceptible. Nevertheless,
the narrative of the Acts cannot here be destitute of
some foundation. Although Jesus himself would not
have given utterance to any of the communistic axioms
which one reads in the third gospel, it is certain that a
renunciation of worldly goods and of the giving of alms
pushed to the length of self-despoilment, were perfectly
conformable to the spirit of his preaching. The belief
that the world is coming to an end has always produced
a distaste for worldly goods, and a leaning to the com
munistic life. The narrative of the Acts is, however,
perfectly conformable to that which we know of the
origin of other ascetic religions — of Buddhism for
example. These sorts of religion commence always
with monastical life. Their first adepts are some
species of mendicant monks. The layman does not
appear in them until later, and when these religions

T&E APOSTLES. 43

have conquered entire societies, in which monastic life
can only exist under exceptional circumstances.

We admit, then, in the Church of Jerusalem a period
of cenobitical life. Two centuries later Christianity
produced still on the Pagans the effect of a communistic
sect. It must be remembered that the Essenians or
Therapeutians had. already given the model of this
species of life, which sprang very legitimately from
Mosaism. The Mosaic code being essentially moral and
not political, its natural product was a social Utopia
(church, synagogue and convent) not a civil state, nation
or city. Egypt had had for many centuries recluses,
both male and female, maintained by the state, probably
in fulfilment of charitable legacies, near the Serapeum
at Memphis. It must especially be remembered that
such a life in the East is by no means what it has been
in our West. In the East, one can very well enjoy
nature and existence without possessing anything.
Man, in these countries, is always free, because he has
few wants ; the slavery of toil is there unknown. We
readily admit that the communism of the primitive
church was neither so rigorous nor so universal as the
author of the Acts would have. What is certain is, that
there was at Jerusalem a large community of poor,
governed by the apostles, and to whom were sent gifts
from every quarter of Christendom. This community
was obliged, no doubt, to establish some rather sever?
rules, and some years later, it was even necessary, in order
to enforce these rules, to employ terror. Some frightful
legends were circulated, according to which the mere
fact of having retained anything beyond that which
one gave to the community, was looked upon as a
capital crime and punished by death.

The porticoes of the temple, especially the portico of
Solomon, which looked down on the Valley of Cedron,
was the place where the disciples usually met during
the day. There they could recall the hours Jesus had
spent in the same place. In the midst of the extreme

44 THE AfOSTLES.

activity which reigned all about the Temple, they were
little noticed. The galleries, which formed apart of the
edifice, were the resort of numerous schools and sects,
the theatre of endless disputations. The faithful fol
lowers of Jesus were, however, regarded as extreme de
votees ; for they still, without scruple, observed the
Jewish customs, praying at the appointed hours, and
observing all the precepts of the" Law. They were Jews,
differing only from others in believing that the Messiah
had already come. The common people who were not
informed as to their concerns, and they were an im
mense majority, regarded them as a sect of Hasidim,
or pious people. One needed not to be either a schis
matic or a heretic, in order to affiliate oneself with
them, any more than one need cease to be a Protestant
in order to be a disciple of Spencer, or a Catholic, in
order to belong to the sect of Saint Francis or of Saint
Bruno. The people loved them, because of their piety,
their simplicity, their kindly disposition. The aristo
crats of the Temple looked upon them, no doubt, with
displeasure. But the sect made little noise ; it was
tranquil, thanks to its obscurity.

At eventide, the brethren returned to their quarters,
and partook of the meal, being divided into groups, in
sign of paternity, and in remembrance of Jesus, whom
they always believed to be present in the midst of them.
The one at the head of the table broke the bread,
blessed the cup, and sent them round as a symbol of
union in Jesus. The most common act of life became
in this way the most sacred and the most holy. These
meals en familie, which were always enjoyed by the
Jews, were accompanied by prayers, pious raptures, and
pervaded by a sweet cheerfulness. They believed them
selves once more to be in the time when Jesus ani
mated them by his presence : they imagined they saw
him, and it was not long before the rumour went abroad
that Jesus had said : " As often as ye break the bread,
do it in remembrance of Me." The bread itself became

THE APOSTLES. 45

in some sort Jesus, conceived to be the only source of
strength for those who had loved him, and who still
lived by him. These repasts, which were always the
chief symbol of Christianity, and the soul of its
mysteries, took place at first every evening. Usage,
however, soon restricted them to Sunday evenings.
Later on, the mystic repast was changed to the morn
ing. It is probable that at the period of the history
which we have now reached, the holy day of each
week was still, with the Christians, the Saturday.

The apostles chosen by Jesus, and who were supposed
to have received from him a special mandate to an
nounce to the world the Kingdom of God, had, in the
little community, an incontestable superiority. One of
the first cares, as soon as they saw the sect settle quietly
down at Jerusalem, was to fill the vacancy that Judas
of Kerioth had left in its ranks. The opinion that the
latter had betrayed his master, and had been the cause
of his death, became more and more general. The
legend was mixed up with him, and every day one
heard of some new circumstance which enhanced the
black-heartedness of his deed He had bought a field
near the old necropolis of Hakeldama, to the south of
Jerusalem, and there he lived retired. Such was the
state of artless excitation in which the little Church found
itself, that, in order to replace him, it was resolved to
have recourse to a vote of some sort. In general, in great
religious agitations we decide upon this method of com
ing to a determination, since it is admitted on principle
that nothing is fortuitous, that the question in point is
the chief object of divine attention, and that God's
part in an action is so much the more greater in propor
tion as that of man's is the more feeble. The sole con
dition was, that the candidate should be chosen from
the groups of the oldest disciples, who had been wit
nesses of the whole series of events, from the time of the
baptism of John. This reduced considerably the num
ber of those eligible. Two only were found in the ranks,

46 THE APOSTLES.

Joseph Bar-Saba, who bore the name of Justus, and
Matthias. The lot fell upon Matthias, who was ac
counted as one of the Twelve. But this was the sole in
stance of such a replacing. The apostles were hitherto
regarded as having been nominated, once for all, by
Jesus, and not as having successors. The danger of a
permanent college, reserving to itself all the life and
the strength of the association, was, with extraordiDary
instinct, discarded for a time. The concentration of the
Church into an oligarchy did not happen until later.

For the rest, it is necessary to guard against the
misunderstandings, which the name of " apostle " might
provoke, and which it has not failed to occasion. From
a very early period, people were led by some passages in
the Gospel, and, above all, by the analogy of the life of
Saint Paul, to regard the apostles as essentially wander
ing missionaries, distributing in a kind of way the
world in advance, and traversing as conquerors all the
kingdoms of the earth. A cycle of legends was founded
upon that data, and imposed upon ecclesiastical history.
Nothing could be more contrary to the truth. The
body of Twelve lived, generally, permanently at Jeru
salem. Till about the year 60 the apostles did not
leave the holy city except upon temporary missions.
This explains the obscurity in which the majority of the
members of the central council remained. Very few of
them had a rdle. This council was a kind of sacred
college or senate, destined only to represent tradition,
and a spirit of conservatism. It finished by being re
lieved of every active function, so that its members had
nothing to do but to preach and pray ; but as yet the
brilliant feats of preaching had not fallen to their lot.
Their names were hardly known outside Jerusalem, and
about the year 70 or 80 the lists which were given of
these chosen Twelve, agreed only in the principal names.

The " brothers of the Lord " appear often by the side
of the " apostles," although they were distinct from
them. Their authority, however, was equal to that of

THE APOSTLES. 47

the apostles. Here two groups constituted, in the nascent
Church, a sort of aristocracy, founded solely on the
more or less intimate relations that their members had
had with the Master. These were the men whom Paul
denominated " the pillars " of the Church at Jerusalem.
For the rest, we see that no distinctions in the ecclesi
astical hierarchy yet existed. The title was nothing ;
the personal authority was everything. The principle
of ecclesiastical celibacy was already established, but it
required time to bring all these germs to their complete
development. Peter and Philip were married, and had
sons and daughters.

The term used to designate the assembly of the
faithful was the Hebrew Kahal, which was rendered by
the essentially democratic word Ecclesia, which is
the convocation of the people in the ancient Grecian
cities, the summons to the Pnyx or the Agora. Com
mencing with the second or the third century before
Jesus Christ, the words of the Athenian democracy be
came a sort of common law in Hellenic language ; many
of these terms, on account of their having been used in
the Greek confraternities, entered into the Christian
vocabulary. It was, in reality, the popular life, which,
restrained for centuries, resumed its power under forms
altogether different. The Primitive Church was, in its
way, a little democracy. Even election by lot, a method
so dear to the ancient Republics, had sometimes found
its way into it. Less harsh, and less suspicious, how
ever, than the ancient cities, the Church voluntarily
delegated its authority. Like all theocratic societies, it
inclined to abdicate its functions into the hands of a
clergy, and it was easy to foresee that one or two
centuries would not roll over before all this democracy
would resolve itself into an oligarchy.

The power which was ascribed to the Church assem
bled and to its chiefs was enormous. The Church
conferred every mission, and was guided solely in its
choice by the signs given by the Spirit. Its authority

48 THE APOSTLES.

went as far as decreeing death. It is recorded that at
the voice of Peter, several delinquents had fallen back
and expired immediately. Saint Paul, a little later,
was not afraid, in excommunicating a fornicator " to
deliver him to Satan for the destruction of the flesh,
that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord
Jesus " (1 Cor., v. vii.). Excommunication was held to
be equivalent to a sentence of death. . It was not
doubted that any person whom the apostles or the
elders of the Church had cut off from the body of the
Saints, and delivered over to the power of evil, was not
lost. Satan was considered as the author of diseases
To deliver over to him the corrupted member was to
deliver over the latter to the natural executor of the
sentence. A premature death was ordinarily held to
be the result of these occult sentences, which, according
to the expressive Hebrew phrase, " cut off a soul from
Israel." The apostles were believed to be invested with
supernatural powers. In pronouncing such condemna
tions, they thought that their anathemas could not fail
but be effectual. The terrible impression which their ex
communications produced, and the hatred manifested by
the brethren against all the members thus cut off, were
sufficient, in fact, in many cases, to bring about death,
or &$ least to compel the culprit to expatriate himself.
The same terrible ambiguity was found in the ancient
law. " Extirpation " implied at once death, expulsion
from the community, exile, and a solitary and
mysterious demise. So with the apostate, or blasphemer.
To destroy his body in order to save his soul came to
be looked on as legitimate. It must ,be remembered
that we are treating of the times of zealots, who
regarded it as an act of virtue to poignard anyone who
failed to obey the Law; and it must not be forgotten that
certain Christians were or had been zealots. Accounts
like those of the death of Ananias and Saphira did not
excite any scruple. The idea of the civil power was so
foreign to all that world placed without the pale of the

THE APOSTLES. i

Roman law, people were so persuaded that the Church
was a complete society, sufficient in itself, that no
person saw, in a miracle leading to death or the muti
lation of an individual, an outrage punishable by the
civil law. Enthusiasm and faith covered all, excused
everything. But the frightful danger which these
theocratic maxims laid up in store for the future is
readily perceived. The Church is armed with a sword ;
excommunication is a sentence of death. There was
henceforth in the world a power outside that of the
state, which disposed of the life of citizens. Certainly, if
the Roman authority had limited itself to repressing
amongst the Jews precepts so condemnatory, it
would have been a thousand times in the right. Only,
in its brutality, it confounded the most legitimate of
liberties, that of worshipping in one's own manner, with
abuses which no society has ever been able to support
with impunity.

Peter had amongst the apostles a certain precedence,
'derived directly from his zeal and his activity. In these
first years, he was hardly ever separate from John, son
of Zebedee. They went almost always together, and
their amity was doubtless the corner stone of the new
faith. James, the brother of the Lord, almost equalled
them in authority, at least amongst a fraction of the
Church. In regard to certain intimate friends of Jesus,
like the Galilean women, and the family of Bethany,
we have already remarked that no more mention is
made of them. Less solicitous of organizing and of
establishing a society, the faithful companions of Jesus
were content with loving in death him whom they had
loved in life. Absorbed in their expectation, these
noble women, who have formed the faith of the world,
were almost unknown to the important men of Jerusa
lem. When they died, the most important elements of
the history of nascent Christianity were put into the
tomb with them. Only those who played active parts
earned renown. Those who were content to love iu

50 THE APOSTLES.

secret, remained obscure but assuredly they chose the
better part.

It is needless to remark that this little group of simple
people had no speculative theology. Jesus wisely kept
himself far removed from all metaphysics. He had only
one dogma, his own divine sonship and the divinity of
his mission. The whole symbol of the primitive church
might be embraced in one line : " Jesus is the Messiah,
the Son of God." This belief rested upon a peremptory
argument — the fact of the resurrection, of which the
disciples claimed to be witnesses. In reality nobody
(not even the Galilean women) said they had seen the
resurrection. But the absence of the body and the
apparitions which had followed, appeared to be equiva
lent to the fact itself. To attest the resurrection of
Jesus was the task which all considered as being
specially imposed upon them. It was, however, very
soon put forth that the master had predicted this
event. Different sayings of his were recalled, which
were represented as having not been well understood,
and in which was seen, on second thoughts, an announce
ment of the resurrection. The belief in the near
glorious manifestation of Jesus was universal. The
secret word which the brethren used amongst them
selves, in order to be recognized and confirmed, was
maran-atha, "the Lord is at hand." They believed
to remember a declaration of Jesus, according to which
their preaching would not have time to go over all the
cities of Israel, before that the Son of Man appeared
in his majesty. In the meanwhile the risen Jesus had
seated himself at the right hand of his Father.
Here he is to remain until the solemn day on which
he shall come, seated upon the clouds, to judge the
quick and the dead.

The idea which they had of Jesus was the one which
Jesus had given them of himself. Jesus had been " a
prophet, mighty in deed and word," a man chosen of
God, having received a special mission on behalf

•fHE APOSTLES. 51

of humanity, a mission which he had proved by his
miracles, and especially by his resurrection. God had
anointed him with the Holy Spirit and had clothed
him with power ; he passed his time in doing good,
and in healing those who were under the power of the
devil, for God was with him: He is the Son of God ;
that is to say, a perfect man of God, a representation
of God upon earth ; he is the Messiah, the Saviour of
Israel, announced by the prophets (Acts x. 38). The read
ing of the books of the Old Testament, especially of the
Prophets and the Psalms, was habitual in the sect. They
carried into that reading a fixed idea — that of discover
ing everywhere the type of Jesus. They were per
suaded that the ancient Hebrew books were full of
him, and from the very first years they formed a
collection of texts drawn from the Prophets, the
Psalms, and from certain apocryphal books, wherein
they were convinced that the life of Jesus was pre
dicted and described in advance. This method of
arbitrary interpretation belonged at that time to all the
Jewish schools. The Messianic missions were a sort of
jeiu d'esprit, analogous to the allusions which the
ancient preachers made of passages of the Bible,
diverted from their natural sense and accepted as the
simple ornaments of sacred rhetoric.

Jesus with his exquisite tact in religious matters had
instituted no new ritual. The new sect had not yet
any special ceremonies. The practices of piety were
Jewish. The assemblies had, in a strict sense, nothing
liturgic. They were the meetings of confraternities,
at which prayers were offered up, devoted themselves
to glossolaly or prophecy, and the reading of
correspondence. There was nothing yet of sacer
dotalism. There was no priest (cohen) ; the
presbyter was the " elder," nothing more. The only
priest was Jesus : in another sense, all the faithful
were priests Fasting was considered a very meri
torious practice. Baptism was the token of admission

52 THE AfOSTLES.

to the sect. The rite was the same as administered
by John, but it was administered in the name ol
Jesus. Baptism was, however, considered an insufficient
initiation. It had to be followed by the gifts of the
Holy Spirit, which were effected by means of a prayer,
offered up by the apostles, upon the head of the new
convert, accompanied by the imposition of hands.

This imposition of hands, already so familiar to Jesus,
was the sacramental act par excellence. It conferred
inspiration, universal illumination, the power to produce
prodigies, prophesying, and the speaking of languages.
It was what was called the Baptism of the Spirit. It
was supposed to recall a saying of Jesus : "John bap
tised you with water, but as for you, you shall be
baptised by the Spirit." Gradually, all thesu ideas
became amalgamated, and baptism was conferred " in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost." But it is not probable that this formula,
in the early days in which we now arc, was yet
employed. We see the simplicity of this primitive
Christian worship. Neither Jesus nor the apostles had
invented it. Certain Jewish sects had adopted, before
them, these grave and solemn ceremonies, which
appeared to have come in part from Chaldea, where
they are still practised with special liturgies by the
Sabseans or Mendaites. The religion of Persia em
braced also many rites of the same description.

The beliefs in popular medicine, which constituted a
part of the force of Jesus, were continued in his disciples.
The power of healing was one of the marvellous gifts
conferred by the Spirit *»The first Christians, like
almost all the Jews of the time, looked upon diseases
as the punishment of a transgression, or the work of a
malignant demon. The apostles passed, just as Jesus
did, for powerful exorcists. People imagined that the
anointings of oil administered by the apostles, with
imposition of hands, and invocation of the name of
Jesus, were all powerful to wash away the sins which

THE APOSTLES. 53

were the cause of disease, and to heal the afflicted one.
Oil has always been in the East the medicine par
excellence. For the rest, the simple imposition of the
hands of the apostles was reputed to have the same
effect. This imposition was made by immediate con
tact. Nor is it impossible that, in certain cases, the
heat of the hands, being communicated suddenly to
the head, insured to the sick person a little relief.

The sect being young and not numerous, the question
of deaths was not taken into account until later on. The
effect caused by the first demises which took place in
the ranks of the brethren was strange. People were
troubled by the manner of the deaths. It was asked
whether they were less favoured than those who were
reserved to see with their eyes the advent of the Son of
Man. -They came generally to consider the interval
between death and the resurrection as a kind of blank in
the consciousness of the defunct. The idea set forth in
the Phcedon, that the soul existed before and after
death, that death was a boon, that it was the philo
sophical state par excellence, inasmuch as the soul
was then free and disengaged ; this idea, I say, was by
no means settled in the minds of the first Christians.
More often it would seem that man, to them, could not
exist without the body. This conception endured for
a long time, and was only given up when the doctrine
of the immortality of the soul, in the sense of the Greek
philosophy, made its entry into the Church, and united
in itself so much good and bad with the Christian
dogma of the resurrection and with the universal reno
vation. At the time of which we speak, belief in the
resurrection almost alone prevailed. The funeral rite
was undoubtedly the Jewish rite. No importance was
attached to it ; no inscription indicated the name of
the dead. The great resurrection was near ; the bodies
of the faithful had only to make in the rock a very
short sojourn. It did not require much persuasion to
pat people in accord on the question as to whether the

54 THE APOSTLES.

resurrection was to be universal, that is to say, whether
it would embrace the good and the bad, or whether it
would apply to the elect only. One of the most remark
able phenomena of the new religion was the reappear
ance of prophecy. For a long time people had spoken
but little of prophets in Israel. That particular species
of inspiration seemed to revive in the little sect. The
primitive Church had several prophets and prophetesses
analogous to those of the Old Testament. The psalm
ists also reappeared. The model of our Christian psalms
is without doubt given in the canticles which Luke loved
to disseminate in his gospel, and which were copied
from the canticles of the Old Testament. These psalms
and prophesies are, as regards form, destitute of origi~
nality, but an admirable spirit of gentleness and of piety
animates and pervades them. It is like a faint echo of
the last productions of the sacred lyre of Israel. The
Book of Psalms was in a measure the calyx from which
the Christian bee sucked its first juice. The Penta
teuch, on the contrary, was, as it would seem, little read
and little studied ; there was substituted for it allegories
after the manner of the Jewish midraschim in which
all the historic sense of the books was suppressed.

The music which was sung to the new hymns was
probably that species of sobbing, without distinct notes,
which is still the music of the Greek Church, of the
Maronites, and in general of the Christians of the East.
It is less a musical modulation than a manner of forcing
the voice and of emitting by the nose a sort of moaning
in which all the inflexions follow each other with
rapidity. That odd melopoeia was executed standing,
with the eyes fixed, the eyebrows crumpled, the brow
knit, and with an appearance of effort. The word
amen, in particular, was given out in a quivering,
trembling voice. That word played a great part in the
liturgy. In imitation of the Jews, the new adherents
employed it to mark the assent of the multitude to the
words of the prophet or the precentor. People, perhaps,

THE APOSTLES. 55

already attributed to it some secret virtues and pro
nounced it with a certain emphasis. We do not know
whether that primitive ecclesiastical song was accom
panied by instruments. As to the inward chant, by
which the faithful " made melody in their hearts," and
which was but the overflowing of those tender, ardent,
pensive souls, it was doubtless executed like the cati-
lenes of the Lollards of the middle ages, in medium
voice. In general, it was joyousness which was poured
out in these hymns. One of the maxims of the sages of
the sect was: "Is any afflicted among you, let him
pray. Is any merry, let him sing psalms " (James v. 13).
Moreover, this Christian literature being destined purely
for the edification of the assembled brethren, was not
written down. To compose books was an idea which
had occurred to nobody. Jesus had spoken; people
remembered his words. Bad he not promised that the
generation to whom he had spoken should not pass
away, until he appeared again ?

CHAPTER VI.

THE CONVERSION OF HELLENISTIC JEWS AND OF
PROSELYTES.

TILL now, the Church of Jerusalem presents itself to
the outside world as a little Galilean colony. _ The
friends whom Jesus had made at Jerusalem, and in its
environs, such as Lazarus, Martha, Mary of Bethany,
Joseph of Arimathea, and Nicodemus, had disappeared
from the scene. The Galilean group, who pressed
around the Twelve, alone remained compact and active.
The preachings of these zealous disciples were incessant,
and subsequently, after the destruction of Jerusalem,
and far away from Judea, the sermons of the apostles
were represented as public occasions, being delivered in

66 THE APOSTLES.

presence of assembled multitudes. Such a construction
appears to have been put upon a number of those con
venient images of which legend is so prodigal. The
authorities who had caused Jesus to be put to death
would not have permitted the renewal of such scandals.
The proselytism of the faithful was chiefly carried on
by means of struggling conversions, in which the fer
vour of their souls was communicated to their neigh
bours. Their'preachings under the porticoes of Solomon
were addressed to circles, not at all numerous. But
the effect of this was only the more profound. Their
discourses consisted principally of quotations from the
Old Testament, by which it was sought to prove that
Jesus was the Messiah. The reasoning was at once
subtle and feeble, but the entire exegesis of the Jews of
that time was of the same kind, while the deductions
which the doctors of the Mischna drew from the texts
of the Bible were no more convincing.

More feeble still was the proof invoked in support of
their arguments, which was drawn from pretended
prodigies. It was impossible to doubt that the apostles
did not believe that they could work miracles.
Miracles were regarded as the sign of every divine
mission. Saint Paul, imbued with much of the spirit
the most ripe of the first Christian school, believed he
wrought them. It was held as certain that Jesus had
performed them. It was but natural that the series of
these divine manifestations should be continued. In
fact, thaumaturgy was a privilege of the apostles until
the end of the first century. The miracles of the
apostles were of the same character as those of Jesus,
and consisted principally, but not exclusively, in the
healing of the sick, and in exorcising the possessed of
devils. It was pretended that their shadows alone
sufficed to operate these marvellous cures. These
prodigies were accounted to be the regular gifts of tha
Holy Spirit, and held the same rank as the gifts of
knowledge, preaching and prophesy. In the third cenr

THE APOSTLES. 5?

tury the Church believed itself still to be in possession
of the same privileges, and to exerciso as a sort of right
the power of healing diseases, of casting out devils, and
of predicting the future. Ignorance rendered every
thing possible in this respect. Do Ave not see in our
day, honest men, who, however, lack scientific know
ledge, deceived in an enduring manner by the chimeras
of magnetism and other illusions ?

It is not by reason of innocent errors, or by the piti
ful discourses we read in the Acts, by which we are to
judge of the means of conversion which laid the founda
tions of Christianity. The real preaching was the
private conversations of these good and sincere men ; it
was the reflection always noticeable in their discourses,
of the words of Jesus ; it was above all their piety, their
gentleness. The attraction of communistic life carried
with it also a great deal of force. Their houses were
a sort of hospitals, in which all the poor and the for
saken found asylum and succour.

One of the first to affiliate himself with the rising
society was a Cypriote, named Joseph Hallevi, or the
Levite, Like the others, he sold his land and carried
the price of it to the feet of the Twelve. He was an
intelligent man, with a devotion proof against every
thing, and a fluent speaker. The apostles attached him
closely to themselves and called him Bar-naba, that is
to say, " the son of prophesy," or of " preaching." He
was accounted, in fact, of the number of the prophets,
that is to say, of the inspired preachers. Later on we
shall see him play a capital part. Next to Saint Paul,
he was the most active missionary of the first century.
A certain Mnason, his countryman, was converted
about the same time. Cyprus possessed many Jews.
Barnabas and Mnason were undoubtedly Jewish by
race. The intimate and prolonged relations of Barna
bas with the Church at Jerusalem, induces the belief
that Syro-Chaldaic was familiar to him.

A conquest, almost as important as that of Barnabas

58 THE APOSTLES.

was that of one John, who bore the Roman surname of
Marcus. He was a cousin of Barnabas, and was cir
cumcised. His mother, Mary, enjoyed an easy compe
tency ; she, was likewise converted, and her dwelling
was more than once made the rendezvous of the apostles.
These two conversions appear to have been the work of
Peter. In any case, Peter was very intimate with
mother and son ; he regarded himself as at home in
their house. Even admitting the hypothesis that John-
Mark was not identical with the real or supposed author
of the second Gospel, his role was, nevertheless, a very
considerable one. Later, we shall see him accompany
ing Paul, Barnabas, and even Peter himself, in their
apostolic journeys.

The first flame was thus spread with great rapidity.
The men, the most celebrated of the apostolic century,
were almost all gained over to the cause in two or three
years, by a sort of simultaneous attraction. It was a
second Christian generation, similar to that which had
been formed five or six years previously, upon the shores
of Lake Tiberias. This second generation had not seen
Jesus, and could not equal the first in authority. But
it was destined to surpass it in activity and in its love
for distant missions, i One of the best known among the
new converts was Stephen, who, before his conversion,
appears to have been only a simple proselyte. He was
a man full of ardour and of passion. His faith was of
the most fervent, and he was considered to be favoured
with all the gifts of the Spirit. Philip, who, like Stephen,
was a zealous deacon and evangelist, attached himself
to the community about the same time. He was often
confounded with his namesake, the apostle. Finally,
there were converted at this epoch, Andronicus and
Junia, probably husband and wife, who, like Aquila and
Priscilla, later on, were the model of an apostolic couple,
devoted to all the duties of missionary work. They
were of the blood of Israel, and were in the closest rela
tions with the apostles.

THE APOSTLES. 69

The new converts, when touched by grace, were all
Jews by religion, but they belonged to two very different
classes of Jews. The one class was the Hebrews ; that
is to say, the Jews of Palestine, speaking Hebrew or
rather Armenian, reading the Bible in the Hebrew text ;
the other class was " Hellenists," that is to say, Jews
speaking Greek, and reading the Bible in Greek. These
last were further sub-divided into two classes, the one
being of Jewish blood, the other being proselytes, that
is to say, people of non-Israelitish origin, allied in divers
degrees to Judaism. These Hellenists, who almost all
came from Syria, Asia Minor, Egypt, or Gyrene, lived
at Jerusalem in distinct quarters. They had their
separate synagogues, and formed thus little communities
apart. Jerusalem contained a great number of these
special synagogues. It was in these that the words of
Jesus found the soil prepared to receive it and to make
it fructify.

The primitive nucleus of the Church at Jerusalem had
been composed wholly and exclusively of Hebrews ; the
Aramaic dialect, which was the language of Jesus, was
alone known and employed there. But we see that
from the second or third years after the death of Jesus,
Greek was introduced into the little community,
where it soon became dominant. In consequence of
their daily relations with the new brethren, Peter, John,
James, Jude, and in general the Galilean disciples,
acquired the Greek with much more facility than if
they had already known something of it. An incident,
of which we are soon to speak, shows that this diver
sity of tongues caused at first some divisions in the
community, and that the relations of the two factions
were not of the most agreeable kind. After the
destruction of Jerusalem, we shall see the " Hebrews,"
retire to beyond Jordan, to the heights of Lake
Tiberias, and form a separate Church, which had a
separate destiny. f But in the interval, between these
two events, it does not appear that the diversity of

60 THE APOSTLES.

languages was of any consequence in the Church. The
Orientals have a great facility for learning languages ;
in the cities everybody invariably speaks two or three
tongues. It is then probable that those of the
Galilean apostles who played an active part, acquired
the practise of speaking Greek ; and came even to
make use of it in preference to the Syro-Chaldaic,
when the faithful, speaking Greek, became the much
more numerous. The Palestinian dialect came, there
fore, to be abandoned from the day in which people
dreamed of a wide-spread propaganda. A provincial
patois, which was rarely written, and which was not
spoken beyond Syria, was as little adapted as could be
to such an object. Greek, on the contrary, was
necessarily imposed on Christianity. It was at the
time the universal language, at least for the eastern
basin of the Mediterranean. It was, in particular, the
language of the Jews who were dispersed over the
Roman empire. At that time, as in our day, the Jews
adopted with great facility the tongues of the coun
tries in which they resided. They did not pique them
selves on purism ; and this is the reason that the Greek
of primitive Christianity is so bad. The Jews, even
the most instructed, pronounced badly the classic
tongue. Their sentences were always modelled upon
the Syriac ; they never got rid of the unwieldiness of the
gross dialects which the Macedonian conquest had
imported.

The conversions to Christianity became soon much
more numerous amongst the " Hellenists " than amongst
the " Hebrews." The old Jews at Jerusalem were but
little drawn towards a sect of provincials, moderately
advanced in the single science that a Pharisee appre
ciated — the science of the law. The position of the
little Church in regard to Judaism was, as with Jesus
himself, rather equivocal. But every religious or
political party carries in itself a force that dominates
it, and obliges it, despite itself, to revolve in its own

TfiE APOSTLES.

orbit. The first Christians, whatever their apparent
respect for Judaism was, were in reality only Jews by
birth or by exterior customs. The true spirit of the
aect came from another source. That which grew out
of official Judaism was the Talmud ; but Christianity
has no affinity with the Talmudic school. This is why
Christianity found special favour amongst the parties,
the least Jewish belonging to Judaism. The rigid or-
thodoxists took to it but little ; it was the new comers,
people scarcely catechised, who had not been to any of
the great schools, free from routine, and not initiated
into the holy tongue, which lent an ear to the apostles
and the disciples. Lightly considered by the aris
tocracy of Jerusalem, these parvenues of Judaism took
in this way a sort of revenge. It is always the young
and newly formed portions of a community that have
the least respect for tradition, and who are the most
carried away by novelties.

In these classes so little subject to the doctors of the
law, credulity was also, it seems, more naive and more
complete. That which distinguished the Talmudic Jews
was not credulity. The credulous Jew, the lover of the
marvellous, whom the Latin satirists knew, was not the
Jew of Jerusalem ; he was the Hellenist Jew, at once
very religious and little instructed, and, consequently,
very superstitious. Neither the half-incredulous Sad-
ducee, nor the rigorous Pharisee, could be much affected
by the theurgy popular in the apostolic circle. But
the Judeeus Apella, at whom the epicurean Horace
laughed, was easy to convince. Social questions,
besides, interested particularly those not benefited
by the wealth which the temple and the central institu
tions of the nation caused to flow into Jerusalem.
Yet it was in allying itself to the desires so very
analogous to what is now called " socialism " that the
new sect laid the solid foundation upon [which was to
be reared the edifice of its future.

62 THE APOSTLES.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CHURCH CONSIDERED AS AN ASSOCIATION OF POOR
PEOPLE. — INSTITUTION OF THE DIACONATE — DEACON
ESSES AND WIDOWS.

A GENERAL truth is revealed to us in the comparative
history of religions ; to wit : all those which have had
a beginning, and have not been contemporary
with the origin of language itself, were established
rather on account of social than theological reasons.
This was assuredly the case with Buddhism. That which
was the cause of the enormous success of that religion
was not the nihilistic philosophy which served it as a
basis ; it was its social element. It was in proclaiming
the abolition of castes, in establishing, to use his own
words, " a law of grace for all," *)hat Cakya-Mouni and
his disciples drew after them first India, then the
greater part of Asia. Like Christianity, Buddhism
was a movement proceeding from the common people.
The great attraction which it had was the facility it
afforded the disinherited classes to rehabilitate them
selves by the profession of a religion which bettered
their condition, and offered infinite resources of assist
ance and sympathy.

The number of the poor, at the beginning of the first
century of our era, was very considerable in Judea. The
country is materially destitute of the resources which
procure luxury. In these countries, where there is no
industry, fortunes almost always originate either in richly
endowed religious institutions, or in favours shown by
jhe Government. The wealth of the temple had for a
long time been the exclusive appanage of a limited
number of nobles. The Asmoneans had formed around
their dynasty a circle of rich families ; the Herods aug
mented much the luxury and well-being of a certain
class of society. But the true theocratic Jew, when

THE APOSTLES.

turning his back on the Roman civilization, became
only the poorer. There was formed a class of holy men,
pious, fanatical, rigid observers of the Law, and out
wardly altogether miserable. It was from this class
that the sects and the fanatical parties, so numerous at
this period, were recruited. The universal dream was
the reign of the proletariat Jew, who remained faithful,
and the humiliation of the rich, who were esteemed as
renegades and traitors, given up to a profane life, and
to a foreign civilization. Never did hatred equal that
of these poor children of God against the splendid edi
fices which began to cover the country, and against the
works of the Romans. Being obliged, so as not to die
of hunger, to toil at these edifices, which appeared to
them monuments of pride and of forbidden luxury, they
believed themselves to be the victims of wicked, rich,
corrupt men, and infidels, before the Law.

We can conceive how, in such a social state, an asso
ciation for mutual assistance wo'ild be eagerly wel
comed. The small Christian Church must have seemed
a paradise. This family of simple and .united brethren
drew associates from every quarter. In return for that
which these brought, they obtained an assured future,
the society of a congenial brotherhood, and precious
hopes. The general custom, before entering the sect,
was for each one to convert his fortune into specie.
These fortunes ordinarily consisted of small rural, semi-
barren properties, and difficult of cultivation. It had
one advantage, especially for unmarried people ; it
enabled them to exchange these plots of land against
funds sunk in an assurance society, with a view to the
Kingdom of God. Even some married people came to
the fore in that arrangement ; and precautions were
taken to insure that the associates brought all that they
really possessed, and did not retain anything outside
the common fund. Indeed, seeing that each one re
ceived out of the latter a share, not in proportion to
what one put in, but in proportion to one's needs, every

64i THE APOSTLES.

reservation of property was actually a theft made upoii
the community. We see in such attempts at organisa
tion on the part of the proletariat, a wonderful resem
blance to certain Utopias, which have been introduced
at a period not very distant from the present. Yet
there is an important difference, arising out of the fact
that the Christian communism had religion for a basis,
whilst modern socialism has nothing of the kind. It is
clear that an association in which the dividend was
made in virtue of the deeds of each person, and not
by reason of the capital put in, could only rest upon a
very exalted sentiment of self-abnegation, and upon an
ardent faith in a religious ideal.

Under such a social constitution, the administrative
difficulties were necessarily very numerous, whatever
might be the degree of fraternal feeling which
prevailed. Between two factions of a community,
whose language was not the same, misapprehensions
were inevitable. It was difficult for well-descended
Jews not to entertain some contempt for their co
religionists, who were less noble. In fact, it was not
long before murmurs began to be heard. The
"Hellenists," who each day became more numerous,
complained because their widows were not so well-
treated at the distributions as those of the " Hebrews."
Till now, the apostles had presided over the affairs of
the treasury. But in face of these protestations, they
felt the necessity of delegating to others this part of
their powers They proposed to the community to
confide these administrative cares to seven experienced
and considerate men. The proposition was accepted. The:
seven chosen were Stephanas, or Stephen, Philip,,
Prochorus, Nicanor,Timon, Parmenas and Nicholas. The
last was from Antioch, and was a simple proselyte.
Stephen was perhaps of the same condition. It appears
that contrary to the method employed in the election of
theapostle Matthias it was decided notto choose the seven
administrators from the group of primitive disciples,,

THE APOSTLES. 65

but from amongst the new converts, and especially
from amongst the Hellenists. Every one of them,
indeed, bore purely Greek names. Stephen was the
most important of the seven, and, in a sense, their
chief. The seven were presented to the apostles, who,
in accordance with a rite already consecrated, prayed
over them, while imposing their hands upon their
heads.

To the administrators thus designated were given
the Syriac name of Schammaschin. They were
also sometimes called " The Seven," to distinguish
them from "The Twelve." Such, then, was the
origin of the Diaconate, which is found to be the
most ancient ecclesiastical function, the most ancient
of sacred orders. Later, all the organised churches, in
imitation of that of Jerusalem, had deacons. The
growth of such an institution was marvellous. It
placed the claims of the poor on an equality with
religious services. It was a proclamation of the truth
that social problems are the first which should occupy
the attention of mankind. It was the foundation of
political economy in the religious sense. The deacons
were the first preachers of Christianity. We shall see
presently what part they played as evangelists. As
organisers, financiers, and administrators, they filled a
yet more important part. These practical men, in
constant contact with the poor, the sick, the women,
went everywhere, observed everything, exhorted, and
were most efficacious in converting people. They
accomplished more than the apostles, who remained on
their seats of honour at Jerusalem. They were the
founders of Christianity, in respect of that which it
possessed which was most solid and enduring.

At an early period, women were admitted to this
office. They were designated, as in our day, by the
name of " sisters." At first widows were selected ;
later, virgins were preferred. The tact which guided
the primitive church in all this was admirable. Thesa

66 THE APOSTLES.

simple and good men, with the most profound skill,
because it proceeded only from the heart, laid the
basis of that grand Christian feature, par excellence —
charity. They had no models of similar institutions
to go upon. A vast ministry of benevolence and
reciprocal succour, into which the two sexes threw their
diverse talents and concentrated their efforts with a
view to the alleviation of human misery, was the holy
creation which resulted from the labour of these two or
three first years — years the most fruitful in the history
of Christianity. We feel that the thoughts of Jesus
still lived in the bosoms of his disciples, and directed
them, with marvellous lucidity, in all their acts. To be
just, it is indeed to Jesus to whom must be refererd
the honour of that which the apostles did which was
great. It is probable that, during his life, he had laid
the basis of these establishments which were developed
with such marvellous success immediately after his death.
The women were naturally drawn towards a commu
nity in which the weak were surrounded by so many
guarantees. Their position in the society was then
humble and precarious ; the widow in particular, despite
several protective laws, was the most often abandoned
to misery, and the least respected. Many of the doctors
advocated the not giving of any religious education to
women. The Talmud placed in the same category with
the pests of the world the g&ssiping and inquisitive
widow, who passed her life in chattering with her neigh
bours, and the virgin who wasted her time in praying.
The new religion created for these disinherited unfortu
nates an honourable and sure asylum. Some women
held most important places in the church, and their
houses served as places for meeting. As for those
women who had no houses, they were formed into a
species of order, or feminine presbyterial body, which
also comprised virgins, who played so capital a role in
the collection of alms. Institutions, which are regarded
as the later fruit of Christianity — congregations of

THE APOSTLES.

women, nuns, and sisters of charity — were its first crea
tions, the basis of its strength, the most perfect expres
sion of its spirit. In particular, the grand idea of con
secrating by a sort of religious character and of subject
ing to a regular discipline the women who were not in
the bonds of marriage, is wholly Christian. The term
" widow " became synonymous with religious person,
consecrated to God, and, by consequence, a " deaconess."
In those countries where the wife, at the age of twenty-
four, is already faded, where there is no middle state
between the infant and the old woman, it was a kind of
new life, vhich was created for that portion of the
human species, the most capable of devotion.

The times of the Seleucidse had been a terrible epoch
for female depravity. Never were so many domestic
dramas seen, or such a series of poisonings and adul
teries. The sages of that time came to consider woman
as a pest to humanity, as the origin of baseness, and of
shame, as an evil genius, whose only object in life was
to destroy every noble germ in the opposite sex. Chris
tianity changed all this. At that age which seems to
us still youth, but at which the life of Oriental woman
is so gloomy, so fatally prone to evil suggestions, the
widow could, by covering her head with a black shawl,
become a respectable person, be worthily employed, a
deaconess, the equal of men, the most highly esteemed.
This position, so distressing for a childless widow,
Christianity elevated, rendered it holy. The widow be
came almost the equal of the maiden. She was calo-
grie, " beautiful in old age, venerated, useful, treated as
a mother." These women, constantly going to and fro.
were admirable missionaries of the new religion. Pro
testants are mistaken in carrying into the recognition of
these facts our modern ideas of individuality. As a
mere question of Christian history, socialism and ceno-
bitism are its primitive features.

The bishop and the priest, as we now know them, did
not yet exist. Still, the pastoral ministry, that inti-

£ 2

68 THE APOSTLES,

mate familiarity of souls, not bound by ties of blood, had
already been established. This latter has ever been
the special gift of Jesus, and a kind of heritage from
him. Jesus had often said, that to everyone he was
more than a father and a mother, and that in order to
follow him, it was necessary to forsake those the most
dear to us. Christianity placed somo things above
family ; it instituted brotherhood, and spiritual mar
riage. The ancient form of marriage, which placed the
wife unreservedly in the power of the husband, was pure
slavery. The moral liberty of the woman began when
the Church gave to her in Jesus a guide and a confi
dant, who should advise and console her, listen always
to her, and on occasion, council resistance on her part.
Woman needs to be governed, and is happy in so being ;
but it is necessary that she should love him who governs
her. This is what neither ancient societies, nor Judaism,
nor Islamism, have been able to do. Woman has never
had, up to the present time, a religious conscience,
a moral individuality, an opinion of her own,
except in Christianity. Thanks to the bishops
and monastic life, Radegonda could find means
to escape from the arms of a barbarous husband. The
life of the soul being all which is of account, it is just
and reasonable that the pastor who knows how to make
the divine chords of the heart vibrate, the secret
counsellor who holds the key of consciences, should be
more than father, more than husband.

In a sense, Christianity was a re-action against the
too narrow domestic economy of the Aryan race. The
old Aryan societies did not only admit but few besides
married men, but also interpreted marriage in the strict
est sense. * It was something analogous to an English
family, a narrow, exclusive, contracted circle, an egotism
of several, as withering for the soul, as the egotism of
the individual. Christianity, with its divine conception
of the liberty of the Kingdom of God, corrected these
exaggerations. It first guarded itself against imposing

TflE APOSTLES. 69

upon everyone the duties of the generality of mankind.
It discovered that family was not the sole thing in life,
that the duty of reproducing the species did not devolve
on everyone, and that there should be persons freed from
these duties — duties undoubtedly sacred but not de
signed for all.

The exception which Greek society made in favour
of the hetcerae, like Aspasia, and of the cortig-
iana, like Imperia, in consequence of the necessities
of polite society, Christianity made for the priest, the
nun and the deaconess, with a view to the general
good. It recognised different classes in society. There
are souls who find more sweetness in the love of five or
six hundred people than in that of five or six ; for such
the ordinary conditions of family seem insufficient, cold
and wearisome. Why extend to all, the exigences of
our dull and mediocre societies ? The temporal family
suffices not for man. He requires brothers and sisters
not of the flesh.

By its hierarchy of different social functions, the
primitive church appeared to conciliate these opposing
requirements. We shall never comprehend how happy
these people were, under these holy restrictions, which
maintained liberty, without restraining it, rendering at
once possible the pleasures of communistic life, and
those of private life. It was altogether different from
the hurly-burly of our modern societies, artificial,
and without love, in which the sensitive soul is some
times so cruelly isolated. In these little refuges, which
are called churches, the atmosphere was genial and sweet.
People lived together in the same faith and in the same
hope. But it is clear also that these conditions would
be inapplicable to a large society. When entire countries
embraced Christianity, the rules of the first churches be
came a Utopian idea, and sought refuge in monasteries.
The mpnastic life is, in this sense, but the continuation
of the primitive churches. * The convent is the necessary
consequence of the Christian spirit. There is no perfect

70 THE APOSTLES.

Christianity without the convent, seeing that the evan
gelical idea can be realized there only.

A large allowance of credit, ought certainly to be
made to Judaism in these great creations. Each of the
Jewish communities scattered along the coasts of the
Mediterranean, was already a sort of church, possessing
its funds for mutual succour. Almsgiving, always re
commended by the sages, had become a precept : it was
done in the Temple, arid in the synagogues : it was re
garded as the first duty of the proselyte. In all times
Judaism has been distinguished by its care for its poor, and
for the fraternal sentiment of charity which it inspires.

There is a supreme injustice in opposing Christianity
to Judaism by way of reproach, since all which Primi
tive Christianity possesses came bodily from Judaism.
It is while thinking of the Roman world that one is
struck by the miracles of charity and free association
undertaken by the Church. Never did profane society,
recognizing reason alone for its basis, produce such ad
mirable results. The law of every profane, or, if I may say
so, philosophical society, is liberty, sometimes equality ;
never fraternity. Charity, viewed from the point of
right, has nothing about it obligatory ; it concerns only
individuals ; it is even found to possess certain incon
veniences, on which account it is distrusted. Every
attempt to apply the public funds for the benefit of the
poor savours of communism. When a man dies of hunger,
when entire classes languish in misery, profane policy
limits itself to finding out the cause of the misfortune.
It points out at once that there can be no civil or political
order without liberty; but the consequence of that liberty
is that he who has nothing, and can earn nothing, must
die of hunger. That is logical : but nothing can with
stand the abuse of logic. The wants of the most numer
ous class always prevail in the long run. Institutions
purely political and civil do not suffice ; social and re
ligious aspirations have also a right to a legitimate
satisfaction.

THE APOSTLES. 1

The glory of the Jewish people ia that they have
loudly proclaimed this principle, from which eman
ated the ruin of the ancient empires, but which will
never be eradicated. The Jewish law is social and non-
political ; the prophets, the authors of the apocalypses,
were the promoters of social revolutions. In the first
half of the first century, in the presence of profane civili
zation, the Jews had but one idea, which was to refuse
the benefits of the Roman law, that philosophical and
Atheistic law, which placed everyone on an equality,
and to proclaim the excellence of their theocratic law,
which formed a religious and moral society. " The Law
is Happiness " : this was the idea of all Jewish
thinkers, such as Philo and Josephus. The laws of
other peoples were designed that justice should have its
course ; it mattered little whether men were good or
happy. The Jewish law took account of the minutest
details of moral education. Christianity is due to the
development of the same idea. Each church is a
monastery, in which all possess equal rights, in which
there ought to be neither poor nor wicked, in which,
consequently, each watches over and commands each
other. Primitive Christianity may be defined as a great
association of poor people, a heroic struggle against
egotism, based upon the idea that each has a right to
no more than is necessary for him, that all superfluity
belongs to those who have nothing. We can at once
see that between such a spirit and the Roman spirit,
would be established a war to the death, and that
Christianity, on its part, will never attain to domina
ting over the world, except on the condition of making
important modifications in its inherent tendencies and
in its original programme.

But the wants which it represents will always en
dure. The communistic life, commencing with the
second half of the Middle Ages, having served for the
abuses of an intolerant Church, the monastery having
too often become but a feudal fief, or the barracks of a

72 THE APOSTLES.

dangerous and fanatical military, the modern mind
evinced a most bitter opposition in regard to cenobit-
ism. But we forget that it was in the communistic life
that the soul of man tasted its fullest joy. The canticle,
" Behold, how good and joyful a thing it is for brethren
to dwell together in unity," has ceased to be our re
frain. But when modern individualism shall have
borne its latest fruits ; when humanity, shrunken, sad
dened, and become impotent, will return to these grand
institutions, and stem disciplines ; when our pitiful
bourgeois society — I speak unadvisedly, our world of
pigmies — shall have been scourged with whips by the
heroic and idealistic portions of mankind, then the com
munistic life will regain all its value. Many great
things, science, for example, will be organized under a
monastic form, with hereditary rights, but not those of
blood The important which our century attributes
to family will diminish * Egotism, the essential rule of
civil society, will not be sufficient for great minds. All,
proceeding from the most opposite points of view, will
league themselves against vulgarity. We shall return
again to the words of Jesus, and the ideas of the Middle
Ages in regard to poverty We will comprehend how
that to possess anything could have been regarded as
a mark of inferiority, and how that the founders of the
mystic life could have disputed for centuries in order to
discover whether Jesus owned even so much as the
things which were necessary for his daily wants. These
Franciscan subtleties will become once more great social
problems. The splendid ideal, traced by the author of
the Acts, will be inscribed as a prophetic revelation on
the gates of the paradise of humanity. "And the
multitude of them that believed were of one heart and
of one soul ; neither said any of them, that the things
which he possessed were his own, but they had all things
in common, neither was there any of them that lacked ;
for as many as were possessors of land or houses sold
them, and brought the price of things that were sold,

THE APOSTLES. 73

and laid them down at the apostles feet/ and distribu
tion was made to every man according as he had need.
And they, continuing with one daily accord in the
temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat
their meat with gladness and singleness of heart."
(Acts ii, 44—47.)

But let us not anticipate events. It was now about
the year 36. Tiberius, at Caprea, has little idea of the
enemy to the empire which is growing up. In two or
three years the sect had made surprising progress. It
numbered several thousand of the faithful. It was
already easy to forsee that its conquests would be
effected chiefly amongst the Hellenists and proselytes.
The Galilean group which had listened to the master,
though preserving always its precedence, seemed as if
swamped by the floods of new comers speaking Greek.
One could already perceive that the principal parts
were to be played by the latter. At the time at which
we are arrived, no Pagan, that is to say, no man with
out some anterior connection with Judaism, had entered
into the Church. Proselytes however, performed very
important functions in it. The circle de provenance of
the disciples had likewise largely extended ; it is no
longer a simple little college of Palestineans ; we can
count in it people from Cyprus, Antioch, and Cyrene,
and from almost all the points of the eastern coasts
of the Mediterranean, where Jewish colonies had
been established. Egypt alone was wanting in the
primitive Church, and for a long time continued to be
so. The Jews of that country were almost in a state of
schism with Judea. They lived after their own fashion,
which was superior in many respects to the life in
Palestine, and scarcely felt the shock of the religious
movements at Jerusalem

THE APOSTLES*

CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST PERSECUTION. — DEATH OF STEPHEN.— DESTRUC
TION OF THE FIRST CHURCH OF JERUSALEM.

IT was inevitable that th« preachings of the new sect,
although delivered with so much reserve, should revive
the animosities which had accumulated against its
founder, and eventually brought about his death. The
Sadducee family of Hanan, who had caused the death
of Jesus, was still reigning. Joseph Caiaphas occupied,
up to 36, the sovereign Pontificate, the effective power of
which he gave over to his father-in-law Hanan, and to
his relatives, John and Alexander. These arrogant arid
pitiless men viewed with impatience a troop of good
and holy people, without official title, winning the favour
of the multitude. Once or twice, Peter, John, and the
principal members of the apostolic college, were put in
prison and condemned to flagellation. This was the
chastisement inflicted on heretics. •» The authorization
of the Romans was not necessary in order to apply it.
As we might indeed suppose, these brutalities only
served to inflame the ardour of the apostles. They
came forth from the Sanhedrim where they had just
undergone flagellation, rejoicing that they were counted
worthy to suffer shame for him whom they loved.
Eternal puerility of penal repressions applied to things
of the soul ! They were regarded, no doubt, as men of
order, as models of prudence and wisdom ; these
blunderers, who seriously believed in the year 36, to
gain the upper hand of Christianity by means of a few
strokes of a whip !

These outrages proceeded chiefly from the Sadducees,
that is to say, from the upper clergy, who crowded the
Temple and derived from it immense profits. We do not
find that the Pharisees exhibited towards the sect the
animosity they displayed to Jesus. The new believers

THE APOSTLES. 75

were strict and pious people, somewhat resembling in
their manner of life the Pharisees themselves. The
rage which the latter manifested against the founder
arose from the superiority of Jesus — a superiority which
he was at no pains to dissimulate. His delicate rail
leries, his wit, his charm, his contempt for hypocrites,
had kindled a ferocious hatred. The apostles, on the
contrary, were devoid of wit; they never employed
irony. The Pharisees were at times favourable to them ;
many Pharisees had even become Christians. The
terrible anathemas of Jesus against Pharisaism had not
yet been written, and the accounts of the words of
the Master were neither general nor uniform. These
first Christians were, besides, people so inoffensive,
that many persons of the Jewish aristocracy, who did not
exactly form part of the sect, were well disposed to
wards them. Nicodc-mus and Joseph of Arimathea, who
had known Jesus, remained no doubt with the Church
in the bonds of brotherhood. The most celebrated
Jewish doctor of the age, Rabbi Gamaliel the elder,
grandson of Hillel, a man of broad and very tolerant
ideas, spoke, it is said, in the Sanhedrim in favour of
permitting gospel preaching. The author of the Acts
credits him with some excellent reasoning, which ought
to be the rule of conduct of governments, on all occasions
when they find themselves confronted with novelties of
an intellectual or moral order. " If this work is frivo
lous," said he, " leave it alone, it will fall of itself ; if it
is serious, how dare you resist the work of God ? In
any case, you will not succeed in stopping it." Gamaliel's
words were hardly listened to. Liberal minds in the
midst of opposing fanaticisms have no chance of suc
ceeding. A terrible commotion was produced by the
deacon Stephen. His preaching had, as it would ap
pear, great success. Multitudes flocked around him,
and these gatherings resulted in acrimonious quarrels.
It was chiefly Hellenists, or proselytes, habitues of the
synagogue, called Libertini, people of Cyrene, of Alex-

76 TfiE APOSTLES.

andria, of Cilicia, of Ephesus, who took an active part in
these disputes. Stephen passionately maintained that
Jesus was the Messiah, that the priests had committed
a crime in putting him to death, that the Jews were
rebels, sons of rebels, people who rejected evidence.
The authorities resolved to dispatch this audacious
preacher. Several witnesses were suborned to seize
upon some words in his discourses against Moses.
Naturally they found that for which they sought.
Stephen was arrested and led into the presence of the
Sanhedrim. The sentence with which they reproached
him was almost identical with the one which led to the
condemnation of Jesus. They accused him of saying
that Jesus of Nazareth would destroy the Temple and
change the traditions attributed to Moses. It is quite
possible, indeed, that Stephen had used such language.
A Christian of that epoch could not have had the
idea of speaking directly against the Law, inasmuch as
all still observed it ; as for traditions, however, Stephen
might combat them as Jesus had himself done ; never
theless, these traditions were foolishly ascribed by the
orthodox to Moses, and people attributed to them a
value, equal to that of the written Law.

Stephen defended himself by expounding the Christian
thesis, with a wealth of citations from the written Law,
from the Psalms, from the Prophets, and wound up by
reproaching the members of the Sanhedrim with the
murder of Jesus. " Ye stiff-necked and uncircumcised
in heart," said he to them, " you will then ever resist
the Holy Ghost as your fathers also have done.
Which of the prophets have not your fathers prose
cuted? They have slain those whe announced the
coming of the Just One, whom you have betrayed,
and of whom you have been the murderers. This law
that you have received from the mouth of angels you
have not kept." At these words a scream of rage in
terrupted him. Stephen, his excitement increasing
more and more, fell into one of those transports of

THE APOSTLES. 77

enthusiasm which were called the inspiration of the
Holy Spirit. His eyes were fixed on high ; he wit
nessed the glory of God and Jesus by the side of his
Father, and cried out: " Behold, I see the heavens
opened, and the Son of Man sitting on the right hand
ot God." The whole assembly stopped their ears, and
threw themselves upon him, gnashing their teeth.
He was dragged outside the city and stoned. The
witnesses, who, according to the law, had to cast the
first stones, divested themselves of their garments and
laid them at the feet of a young fanatic named Saul, or
Paul, who was thinking with secret joy of the renown
he was acquiring in participating in the death of a
blasphemer.

In all this there was an observance to the letter of
the prescriptions of Deuteronomy, chapter xiii. But
viewed from a civil law point, this tumultuous execution,
carried out without the sanction of the Romans, was
not regular. In the case of Jesus, we have seen that
it was necessary to obtain the ratification of the
Procurator. It may be that this ratification was
obtained in the case of Stephen and that the execution
did not follow his sentence quite so closely as the
narrator of the Acts would have us believe. It may
have happened also that the Roman authority was at
this time somewhat relaxed. Pilate had been, or was
about to be, suspended from his functions. The cause
of this disgrace was simply the too great firmness
which he had shown in his administration. Jewish
fanaticism had rendered his life insupportable.
Possibly he was tired of refusing the outrages these
frantic people demanded of him, and the proud family
of Hanan had reached the point that they no longer
required the sanction of the Procurator to pronouce
sentences of death, Lucius Vetellius (the father of
him who was emperor) was then imperial legate at
Syria. He sought to win the good graces of the popu
lation ; and he restored to the Jews the pontificial vest-

78 THE APOSTLES.

merits, which, since the time of Herod the Great, had
been deposited in the tower of Antonia. Instead of
sustaining the rigorous acts of Pilate, he lent an ear to
the complaints of the natives and sent Pilate back
to Rome, to answer the accusations of his subordinates
(commencement of the year 36). < The chief grievance
of the latter was that the Procurator would not lend
himself with sufficient complacency to their intolerant
behests. Vitellius replaced him provisionally by his
friend Marcellus, who was undoubtedly more careful
not to displease the Jews, and, consequently, more
willing to indulge them in their religious murders.
The death of Liberius (16 March, 37) only encouraged
Vitellius in this policy. The two first years of the
reign of Caligula was an epoch of general relaxation of
the Roman authority in Syria. The policy of that
prince, before he lost his reason, was to restore to the
peoples of the East their autonomy and their native
chiefs. It was thus that he established the kingdoms
or principalities of Comagene, of Herod Agrippa, of
Soheym, of Cotys, of Polemon II., and permitted
that of Hareth to aggrandise itself. When Pilate
arrived at Rome, the new reign had already begun.
It is probable that Caligula held him to be in the
wrong, inasmuch as he confided the government of
Jerusalem to a new functionary, Marcellus, who appears
not to have excited, on the part of the Jews, the violent
recriminations which overwhelmed poor Pilate with
embarrassment, and filled him with disgust.

At all events, that which is important to remark is,
that in that epoch the persecutors of Christianity were
not Romans ; they were -orthodox Jews. The Romans
preserved in the midst of this fanaticism a principle of
tolerance and of reason. If we can reproach the
imperial authority with anything, it is with being too
lenient, and with not having cut short with s stroke the
civil consequences of a sanguinary law which visited
with death religious derelictions. But as yet the

THE APOSTLES 79

Roman domination was not so complete as it became
later ; it was only a sort of protectorate or suzerainty.
Its condescension even went the length of not putting
the head of the emperor on the coins struck during the
rule of procurators, so as not to shock Jewish ideas.
Borne did not yet, in the East at least, seek to impose
upon vanquished peoples her laws, her gods, her
manners ; she left them, outside the Roman laws, their
local customs. Their semi-independence was simply a
further indication of their inferiority. The imperial
power in the East, at that epoch, resembled somewhat
the Turkish authority, and the condition ©f the native
population, that under the Rajahs. The notion of equal
rights and equal protection for all did not exist. Each
provincial group had its jurisdiction, just as at this day
the various Christian Churches and the Jews have in
the Ottoman Empire, * In Turkey, a few years ago,
the patriarchs of the different communities of Rajahs,
provided that they had some sort of understanding with
the Porte, were sovereigns as far as their subordinates
were concerned, and could sentence them to the most
cruel punishments.

As Stephen's death may have taken place at any
time during the years 36, 37, 38, we cannot, therefore,
affirm whether Caiaphas ought to be held responsible
for it. Caiaphas was deposed by Lucius Vitellius, in
the year 36, shortly after the time of Pilate ; but the
change was inconsiderable. He had for a successor his
brother-in-law, Jonathan, son of Hanan. The latter, in
turn, was succeeded by his brother Theophilus, son of
Hanan, who continued the Pontificate in the house of
Hanan till the year 42. Hanan was still alive, and,
possessed of the real power, maintained in his family
the principles of pride, severity, hatred against innova
tors which were, so to speak, hereditary.

The death of Stephen produced a great impression.
The proselytes solemnized his funeral with tears and
groanings. The separation of the new secretaries from

THE APOSTLES.

Judaism was not yet absolute. The proselytes and the
Hellenists, less strict in regard to orthodoxy than the
pure Jews, considered that they ought to render public
homage to a man who respected their constitution, and
whose peculiar beliefs did not put him without the pale
of the Law.

Thus began the era of Christian martyrs. Martyrdom
was not an entirely new thing. Not to mention John
the Baptist and Jesus, Judaism at the time of An-
tiochus Epiphanus, had had its witnesses, faithful even
to the death. But the series of courageous victims, be
ginning with Saint Stephen, has exercised a peculiar
influence upon the history of the human mind. It in
troduced into the western world an element which it
lacked, to wit, absolute and exclusive faith, the idea
that there is but one good and true religion. In
this sense, the martyrs began the era of intolerance. It
may be avouched with great assurance, that he who can
give his life for his faith would, if he were master, be in
tolerant. Christianity ,when it had passed through three
centuries of persecution, and became, in its turn, domi
nant, was more persecuting than any religion had ever
been. When people have shed their blood for a cause
they are too prone to shed the blood of others, so as to
conserve the treasure they have gained.

The murder of Stephen, moreover, was not an isolated
event. Taking advantage of the weakness of the
Roman functionaries, the Jews brought to bear upon the
Church a real persecution. It seems that the vexations
pressed chiefly on the Hellenists and the proselytes
whose free behaviour exasperated the orthodox. The
Church of Jerusalem, which though already strongly
organized, was compelled to disperse. The apostles,
according to a principle which seems to have seized
strong hold of their minds, did not quit the city. It
was probably so, too, with the whole purely Jewish

\Dup, those who were denominated the " Hebrews."
it the great community with its common table, its

APOSTLES. 81

4aconal services, its varied exercises, ceased from that
time, and was never re-formed upon its first model. It
had endured for three or ibur years. It was for nascent
Christianity an unequalled good fortune that its first
attempts at association, essentially communistic, were
so soon broken up. * Essays of this kind engender such
shocking abuses, that communistic establishments are
condemned to crumble away in a very short time, or to
ignore very soon the principle upon which they are
founded. Thanks to the persecution of the year 37 the
cenobitic Church of Jerusalem was saved from the test
of time. It was nipped in the bud, before interior
difficulties had undermined it. It remained like a
splendid dream, the memory of which animated in their
life of trial all those who had formed part of it, like an
ideal to which Christianity incessantly aspires without
ever succeeding in reaching its goal. Those who know
what an inestimable treasure the memory of Menilmon-
tant is to the members still alive of the St. Simonian
Church, what friendship it creates between them, what
joy kindles in their eyes, when they speak of it, will com
prehend the powerful bond which was established be
tween the new brethren, from the fact of having first
loved and then suffered together. It is almost always
a principle of great lives, that during several months
they have realised God, and the recollection of this
suffices to fill up the entire after-years with strength
and sweetness.

The leading part in the persecution we have just
related belonged to that young Saul, whom we have
above found abetting, as far as in him lay, the murder
of Stephen. This hot-headed youth, furnished with a
permission from the priests, entered houses suspected of
harbouring Christians, laid violent hold on men and women
and dragged them to prison, or before the tribunals. Saul
boasted that there was no one of his generation so zeal
ous as himself for the traditions. True it is, that often
the gentleness and the resignation of his victims aston-

82 THE APOSTLES.

ished him ; he experienced a kind of remorse; he fancied
he heard these pious women, whom, hoping for the
Kingdom of God, he had cast into prison, saying during
the night, in a sweet voice: "Why persecutest thou us ?"
The blood of Stephen, which had almost smothered him,
sometimes troubled his vision. Many things that he
had heard said of Jesus went to his heart. This super
human being, in his ethereal life, whence he sometimes
emerged, revealing himself in brief apparitions, haunted
him like a spectre. But Saul shrunk with horror from
such thoughts; he confirmed himself with a sort of frenzy
in the faith of his traditions, and meditated new cruelties
against those who attacked him. His name had become
a terror to the faithful ; they dreaded at his hands the
most atrocious outrages, and the most sanguinary
treacheries.

CHAPTER IJL

FIRST MISSIONS. — PHILIP THE DEACON.

The persecution of the year 37 had for its result, as
is always the case, the spread of the doctrine which it was
wished to arrest. Till now, the Christian preaching
had not extended far beyond Jerusalem ; no mission
had been undertaken ; enclosed within its exalted bat
narrow communison, the mother Church had spread no
haloes around herself, or formed any branches. The
dispersion of the little circle scattered the good seed
to the four winds of heaven. The members of the
Church of'Jerusalem,driven violently from their quarters,
spread themselves over every part of Judse and Samaria,
and preached everywhere the Kingdom of God. The
deacons, in particular, freed from their administrative
functions by tho destruction of the community, became

TfiE APOSTLES.

excellent evangelists. They constituted the young and
active element of the sect, in contradistinction to the
somewhat heavy element formed by the apostles, and
the " Hebrews." One single circumstance, that of
language, would have sufficed to create in the latter an
inferiority as regards preaching. They spoke, at least as
their habitual tongue, a dialect which was not used by
the Jews themselves more than a few leagues from Jeru
salem. It was to the Hellenists that belonged all the
honour of the great conquest, the account of which is to
be now our main purpose.

The scene of the first of these missions, which was
soon to embrace the whole basin of the Mediterranean,
was the region about Jerusalem, within a radius of two
or three days' journey. Philip, the Deacon, was the
hero of this first holy expedition. He evangelized
Samaria most successfully. The Samaritans were
schismatics ; but the young sect, following the example
of the Master, was less susceptible than the rigorous
Jews in regard to questions of orthodoxy. Jesus, it was
said, had shown himself at different times to be quite
favourable to the Samaritans. Philip appeared to have
been one of the apostolical men most pre-occupied with
theurgy. The accounts which relate to him transport
us into a strange and fantastic world. The conversions
which he made in Samaria, and in particular in the
capital, Sebaste, are explained by prodigies. This coun
try was itself wholly given up to superstitious ideas in re
gard to magic. In the year 36, that is to say, two or
three years before the arrival of the Christian preachers,
a fanatic had excited among the Samaritans quite a
serious commotion by preaching the necessity of a return
to primitive Mosaism, the sacred utensils of which he
pretended to have found. A certain Simon, of the vil
lage of Gitta or Gitton, who obtained later a great re
putation, began about that time to gain notoriety by
means of his enchantments. One feels at seeing the
gospel finding a preparation and a support in such

84 THE APOSTLES.

chimeras. Quite a large multitude were baptized in the
name of Jesus. Philip had the power of baptizing, but
not that of conferring the Holy Ghost. That privilege
was reserved to the apostles. When people learned at
Jerusalem of the formation of a group of believers at
Sebaste, it was resolved to send Peter and John to com
plete their initiation. The two apostles came, laid
their hands on the new converts, prayed over their
heads ; the latter were immediately endowed with the
marvellous powers attached to the conferring of the
Holy Spirit. Miracles, prophecy, all the phenomena of
illusionism were produced, and the Church of Sebaste
had nothing in this respect to envy the Church of
Jerusalem for.

If the tradition about it is to be credited, Simon of
Gitton found himself from that time in relations with
the Christians. According to their accounts, he, being
converted by the preaching and miracles of Philip, was
baptized, and attached himself to this evangelist. Then
when the apostles Peter and John had arrived, -and
when he saw the supernatural powers procured by the
imposition of hands, he came, it is said, and offered them
money, in order that they might impart to him the
faculty of conferring the Holy Spirit. Peter is then
reported to have made to him this admirable response :
"Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast
thought that the gift of God may be bought ! Thou
hast neither part nor lot in this matter, for thy heart is
not right in the sight of God."

Whether these words were or were not pronounced,
they seem to picture exactly the situation of Simon in
regard to the nascent sect. We shall see, in fact, that
according to all appearances, Simon of Gitton was the
chief of a religious movement, similar to that of Chris
tianity, which might be regarded as a sort of Samaritan
counterfeit of the work of Jesus. Had Simon already
commenced to dogmatize and to perform prodigies when
Philip arrived at Sebaste ? Did he enter thereupon

THE APOSTLES. 85

into relations with the Christian Church ? Has the
anecdote, which made of him the father of all " Simony,"
any reality ? Must it be admitted that the world one
day saw face to face two thaumaturgists, one of which
was a charlatan, the other the " corner-stone," which
has been made the base of the faith of humanity ? Was
a sorcerer able to counter-balance the destinies of
Christianity ? This is what, for lack of documentary
evidence, we do not know ; for the narrative of the Acts
is here but a feeble authority ; and, from the first cen
tury, Simon became for the Christion church a subject
of legends. In history, the general idea alone is pure.
It would be unjust to dwell on that, which is shocking
in this sad page of the origin of Christianity. To vul
gar auditors, the miracle proves the doctrine ; to us, the
doctrine makes us forget the miracle. When a belie!
has consoled and ameliorated humanity, it is excusable
to employ proofs proportioned to the weakness of the
public to which it is addressed. But when error aftei
error has been proved, what excuse can be alleged \
This is not a condemnation which we intend to pro
nounce against Simon of Gitton. We shall have to ex
plain later on his doctrine, and the part he played
which was only made manifest under the reign oi
Claudius. It is of moment only to remark here, that
an important principle seems to have been introduced
by him into the Christian theurgy. Compelled tc
admit that some impostors could also perform miracles
orthodox theology attributed these miracles to the Evil
One. For the purpose of conserving some demonstra
tive value in prodigies, it was necessary to invent rules
for distinguishing the true from the false miracles. In
order to this, they descended to a species of ideas utterly
childish.

Peter and John,after confirming the Church of Sebaste,
departed again for Jerusalem, evangelizing on their
way the villages of the country of Samaria. Philip the
Deacon, continued his evangelizing journeys, directing

86 THE APOSTLES.

his steps towards the south, into the ancient country
of the Philistines. This country, since the advent of
the Maccabees had been much encroached upon by the
Jews ; Judaism, however, had not succeeded in be
coming dominant there. During this journey Philip
accomplished a conversion which made some noise
and which was much talked about because of a
singular circumstance. One day, as he was jour
neying along the route, a very lonely route, from
Jerusalem to Gaza, he encountered a rich traveller,
evidently a foreigner, for he was riding in a chariot,
which was a mode of locomotion that has at all times
been unknown to the inhabitants of Syria and of
Palestine. He was returning from Jerusalem, and,
gravely seated, was reading the Bible in a loud voice,
according to a custom quite common at that time.
Philip, who in everything was believed to act on inspir
ation from on high, felt himself drawa towards the
chariot. He came up alongside of it, "and quietly
entered into conversation with the opulent personage,
offering to explain to him the passages, which the latter
did not comprehend. This was a rare occasion for the
evangelist to deveiop the Christian thesis upon the
figures employed in the Old Testament. He proved
that in the books of prophecy everything there related
to ^ Jesus ; that Jesus was the solution of the great
enigma ; that it was of him in particular that the All-
Seeing had spoken in this beautiful passage : " He
was led as a sheep to the slaughter ; as a lamb that is
dumb before its shearers, he opened not his mouth."
The traveller listened, and at the first water to which
they came he said : " Behold, here is water, why could
I not be baptized." The chariot was stopped : Philip
and the traveller descended into the water, and ^the
latter was baptized.

Now this traveller was a powerful personage. He
was a eunuch of the Candace of Ethiopia, her finance
minister, the keeper of her treasures, who had come to

THE APOSTLES. 87

worship at Jerusalem, and was now returning to
Napata by the Egyptian route Oandace or Gandaoce
was the title of feminine royalty in Ethiopia, about the
period of which we are now speaking. Judiasm had
already penetrated into Nubia and Abyssinia ; many of
the natives had been converted, or at least were counted
among those proselytes, who, without being circumcised,
worshipped the one God The eunuch probably be
longed to the latter class, a simple pious Pagan, like
the centurion Cornelius who will figure presently in this
history. In any case, it is impossible to suppose that
he was completely initiated into Judaism. From this
time we hear no more said about the eunuch. But
Philip recounted the incident, and at a later period
much importance was attached to it. When the
question of admitting Pagans into the Christian Church
became an affair of moment, there was found here a
precedent of great weight. In all this affair, Philip
was believed to have acted under divine inspiration.
This baptism, administered by order of the Holy Spirit
to a man scarcely a Jew, assuredly not circumcised, who
had believed in Christianity, only for a few hours,
possessed a high dogmatic value. It was an argument
for those who thought that the doors of the new church
should be open to all.

Philip, after that adventure, betook himself to
Ashdod or Azote. Such was the artless state of
enthusiasm in which these missionaries lived, that at
each step they believed they heard the voice of Heaven,
and received directions from the Spirit. Each of their
steps seemed to them to be regulated by a superior
power, and when they went from one city to another,
they thought they were obeying a supernatural inspir
ation. Sometimes they fancied they made aerial trips.
Philip was in this respect one of the most privileged
It was, as he believed, on the indication of an angel,
that he had come from Samaria to the place where he
had encountered the eunuch ; after the baptism of the

88 THE APOSTLES.

latter he was persuaded that the Spirit had lifted him
bodily, and transported him with one swoop to Azote.

Azote and the Gaza route were the limits of the
first evangelical preachings towards the south. Beyond
were the desert and the nomadic life upon which
Christianity has never taken much hold. From
Azote, Philip the Deacon turned towards the north
and evangelized all the coast as far as Gesarea.
It is probable that the Church of Joppa and of
Gydda, which we shall soon find flourishing, were
founded by him. At Cesarea he settled and founded
an important Church. We shall encounter him there
again twenty years later. Cesarea was a new city
and the most considerable of Judea. It had been built
on the site of a Sidonian fortress, called Abdastartes or
Shato's Tower, by Herod the Great, who gave to it, in
honour of Augustus, the name which its ruins bear
still to-day. Cesarea was much the best part in all
Palestine, and tended day by day to become its capital.
Tired of living at Jerusalem, the Judean Procurators
were soon to repair thence, to make it their permanent
residence. It was principally peopled by Pagans ; the
Jews, however, were somewhat numerous there ; cruel
strifes had often taken place between the two classes
of the population The Greek language was alone
spoken there, and the Jews themselves had come to
recite certain parts of their liturgy in Greek. The
austere Rabbis of Jerusalem regarded Cesarea as a
dangerous and profane abode, and in which one became
nearly a Pagan. From all the facts which have just
been cited, this city will occupy an important place in
the sequel of this history. It was in a kind of way the
port of Christianity, the point by which the Church of
Jerusalem communicated with all the Mediterranean.
Many other missions, the history of which is un
known to us, were conducted simultaneously with that
of Philip. The very rapidity with which this first
preaching was done, was the reason of its success. In

THE APOSTLES. 89

the year 38, five years after the death of Jesus, and
probably one year after the death of Stephen, all this side
of Jordan had heard the glad tidings from the mouths
of missionaries hailing from Jerusalem. Galilee, on its
part, guarded the holy seed and probably scattered it
around her, although we know of no missions issuing
from that quarter. Perhaps the city of Damascus,
from the period at which we now are, had also some
Christians, who received the faith from Galilean
preachers.

CHAPTER X.

CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. — RIDICULOUS TO PUT PAUL'S

CONVERSION A.D. 38 — ARETAS SETTLES THE

DATE AS ABOUT 34

THE year 38 is marked in the history of the nascent
Church by a much more important conquest. During
that year we may safely place the conversion of that
Saul whom we witnessed participating in the stoning of
Stephen, and as a principal agent in the persecution of
37, but who now, by a mysterious act of grace, becomes
the most ardent of the disciples of Jesus.

Saul was born at Tarsus, in Cilicia, in the year 10 or
12 of our era. Following the custom of the times, his
name was latinized into that of Paul ; he did not, how
ever, regularly adopt this last name until he became
the apostle of the Gentiles. Paul was of the purest
Jewish blood. His family, who probably hailed origin
ally from the town of Gischala, in Galilee, pretended to
belong to the tribe of Benjamin ; while his father en-

90 THE APOSTLES.

joyed the title of a Roman citizen, a title no doubt in
herited from ancestors who had obtained that honour,
either by purchase or by services rendered to the state.
His grandfather may have obtained it for aid given to
Pompey during the Roman conquest (63 B.C.) His
family, like most of the good old Jewish houses, belonged
to the sect of Pharisees. Paul was brought up accord
ing to the strictest principles of this sect, and though
he afterwards repudiated its narrow dogmas, he always
retained its exaltation, its asperity, and its ardent faith.
During the epoch of Augustus, Tartus was a very
flourishing city. The population, though composed
chiefly of the Greek and Aramaic races, included, as
was common in all the commercial towns, a large num
ber of Jews. A taste for letters and the sciences was a
marked characteristic of the place ; and no city in the
world, not even excepting Athens and Alexandria, had
so many scientific institutions and schools. The num
ber of learned men which Tarsus produced, or who
prosecuted their studies there, was truly extraordinary ;
but it must not hence be imagined that Paul received
a careful Greek education. The Jews rarely frequented
the institutions of secular instruction. The most cele
brated schools of Tarsus were those of rhetoric, where
the Greek classics received the first attention. It seems
hardly probable that a man who had taken even ele
mentary lessons in grammar and rhetoric, could have
written in the incorrect non-Hellenistic style of that of
the Epistles of St. Paul. He talked constantly and even
fluently in Greek, and wrote or rather dictated in that
language ; but his Greek was that of the Hellenistic
Jews, bristliDg with Hebraisms and Syriacisms, scarcely
intelligible to a lettered man of that period, and which
can only be understood by trying to discover the Syriac
turn of mind which influenced Paul, at the time he was
dictating his epistles. He was himself cognizant of the
vulgar and defective character of his style. Whenever
it was possible he spoke Hebrew — that is to say, the

THE APOSTLES. 91

Syro-Chaldalc of his time. It was in this language that
he thought, it was in this language he was addressed by
the mysterious voice on the way to Damascus.

His doctrine, moreover, shows us no direct adaptation
from Greek philosophy. The verse quoted from the
Thais of Menander, which occurs in his writings, is one
of those monostich-pro verbs that were familiar to the
public, and could easily have been quoted by one who
was not acquainted with the original. Two other quota
tions — one from Epimenides, the other from Aratus —
which appear under his name, though it is by no means
certain that he used them, may also be understood as
having been borrowed at second-hand. The literary
training of Paul was almost exclusively Jewish, and it is
in the Talmud rather than in the Greek classics that
the analogies of his modes of thought must be sought.
A few general ideas of popular philosophy, which one
could learn without opening a single book of the philo
sophers, alone reached him. His manner of reasoning
is most singular. He knew nothing certainly of the
peripatetic logic. His syllogism is not that of Aristotle ;
on the contrary, his dialectics greatly resemble those of
the Talmud. Paul, in general is carried away by words
rather than by thought. When a word took possession
of his mind it suggested a train of thought wholly irre
levant to the subject in hand. His transitions were
sudden, his treatment disjointed, his periods frequently
suspended. No writer could be more unequal. We
would seek in vain throughout the realm of literature
for a phenomenon as capricious as that of the sublime
passage in the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle
to the Corinthians, placed by the side of such feeble ar
guments, painful repetitions, and fastidious subtleties.

His father at the outset intended that he should be
a rabbi ; and following the general custom, gave him a
trade. Paul was an upholsterer, or rather a manufac
turer of the heavy cloths of Cilicia, called Cilicium. At
various times he had to work at this trade, having no

92 THE APOSTLES.

patrimonial fortune. It seems quite certain that he had
a sister, whose son lived at Jerusalem. As regards a
brother and other relatives, who it is said embraced
Christianity, the testimony is vague and uncertain.

Refinement of manners being, according to the
modern ideas of the middle-classes, in direct proportion
to personal wealth, it might be imagined, from what
has just been said that Paul was badly brought up and
undistinguished amongst the proletariat. This idea would,
however, be quite erroneous. His politeness, when he
chose, was extreme, and his manners, exquisite. Despite
the defects in his style, his letters show that he was a
man of uncommon intelligence, who could find for the
expression of his lofty sentiments, language of rare
felicity ; and no correspondence displays more careful
attention, finer shades of meaning, and more charming
hesitancy and timidity. Some of his pleasantries shock
us. But what animation ! What a fund of charming
sayings ! What simplicity ! One can easily see that
his character, when his passions did not make him
irascible and fierce, was that of a polite, earnest, and
affectionate man, susceptible at times, and a trifle
jealous. Inferior as such men are in the eyes of the
general public, they yet possess within small Churches,
immense advantages, because of the attachments they
inspire, their practical aptitude, and their skill in escap
ing from the greatest difficulties.

Paul had a sickly appearance, which did not corres
pond with the greatness of his soul. He was uncomely,
short, squat, and stooping, his broad shoulders awk
wardly sustaining a little bald pate. His sallow count
enance was half concealed in a thick beard ; his nose was
aquiline, his eyes piercing, while his black, heavy eye
brows met across his forehead. Nor was there anything
imposing about his speech ; his timid and embarassed
air, and incorrect language, gave at first but a poor
idea of his eloquence. He gloried, however, in his
exterior defects, and even shrewdly extracted advantage

THE APOSTLES. 93

from them. The Jewish race possesses the peculiarity
of presenting at once types of the greatest beauty, and
of the most utter ugliness ; but this Jewish ugliness is
something quite unique. Some of the strange visages
which at first excite a smile, assume, when lighted up by
emotion, a rare brilliance and majesty.

The temperament of Paul was not less peculiar than
his exterior. His constitution was sickly, yet its singular
endurance was tested by the way in which he sup
ported an existence full of fatigues and sufferings. He
makes constant allusions to his bodily weakness. He
speaks of himself as a sick man, exhausted, and nigh
unto death ; add to this, that he was timid, without any
appearance or prestige, without any of those personal
advantages, calculated to produce an impression, so much
so, that it was a marvel people were not repelled by such
uninviting an exterior. Elsewhere, he mysteriously
hints at a secret affliction, " a thorn in the flesh,"
which he compares to a messenger of Satan sent, with
God's permission, to buffet him, " lest he should be ex
alted above measure." Thrice he besought the Lord to
deliver him, and thrice the Lord replied, " My grace is
sufficient for thee." This was evidently some bodily in
firmity ; for it is not to be supposed that he refers to
the allurements of carnal delights, since he himself in
forms us in another place that he was insensible to
these. It would seem he was never married : the
thorough coldness of his temperament, the result of the
intense ardour of his brain, manifests itself throughout
his life, and he boasts of it with an assurance savouring
of affectation, to an extent which is disagreeable.

At an early age he came to Jerusalem, and entered,
as it is said, the school of Gamaliel the Elder. This
Gamaliel was the most cultured man in Jerusalem. As
the name of Pharisee was applied to every prominent
Jew who was not of a priestly family, Gamaliel was
taken for a member of that sect. Yet he had none of
its narrow and exclusive spirit. He was a liberal, in-

94< TfiE APOSTLES.

telligent man, acquainted with Greek, and understood
the heathen. It is possible that the broad ideas pro
fessed by Paul after he received Christianity, were a re
miniscence of the teachings of his first master ; yet it
must be admitted that at first he had not learned much
moderation from him. Breathing the heated atmos
phere of Jerusalem, he became an ardent fanatic. He
was the leader of a young, unbending, and enthusiastic
Pharisee party, which carried to extremes their keen
attachment for the national traditions of the past. He
had not known Jesus, and was not present at the bloody
scene of Golgotha ; but we have seen him take an active
part in the murder of Stephen, and among the foremost
of the persecutors of the Church. He breathed only
threatenings and slaughter, and went up and down
Jerusalem bearing a mandate which authorized and
legalized all his brutalities. He went from synagogue
to synagogue, compelling the more timid to deny the
name of Jesus, and subjecting others to scourging or im
prisonment. When the Church of Jerusalem was dis
persed, his persecutions were extended to the neigh
bouring cities. Exasperated by the progress of the
new faith, and learning that there was a group of the
faithful at Damascus, he obtained from the high-priest
Theophilus, son of Hanan, letters to the synagogue of
that city, which conferred on him the power of arresting
all evil-thinking persons, and of bringing them bound to
Jerusalem.

The confusion of Roman authority in Judea, explains
these arbitrary vexations. The insane Caligula was
in power, and the administrative service was every
where distracted. Fanaticism had gained all that the
civil power had lost. After the dismissal of Pilate,
and the concessions made to the natives by Lucius
Vitellius, the country was permitted to govern itself
according to its own laws. A thousand local tyrannies

Erofited by the weakness of an indifferent authority.
Q additi<^ Damascus had just passed into the hands

THE APOSTLES. 95

of Hartat, or Hareth, whose capital was at Petra.
This bold and powerful prince, having beaten Herod
Antipas, and withstood the Roman forces, commanded
by the imperial legate, Lucius Vitellius, had been mar
vellously aided by fortune. The news of the death of
Tiberius (16th March, 37), had suddenly arrested the
march of Vitellius. Hareth seized Damascus, and
established there an ethnarch or governor. The Jews
at the time of this new occupation formed a numerous
party at Damascus, where they carried on an extensive
system of proselytizing, especially among the females.
It was thought advisable to seek to make them con
tented; and the best method of doing so was to grant
concessions to their autonomy, and every concession
was simply a permission to commit further religious
violences. To punish and even kill those who did not
think with them, was their idea of independence and
liberty.

Paul, in leaving Jerusalem, followed doubtless the
usual road, and crossed the Jordan at the " Bridge of
the Daughters of Jacob." His mental excitement was
now at its greatest height, and he was at times
troubled and shaken in his faith. Passion is not a rule
of faith. The passionate man flies from one extreme
creed to another, but always retains the same im
petuosity. Now, like all strong minds, Paul almost
loved that which he hated. Was he sure, after all,
that he was not thwarting the designs ot God ? Per
haps he remembered the calm, dispassionate views of
his master Gamaliel. Often these ardent souls experi
enced terrible revulsions. He felt a liking for those
whom he had tortured. The more these excellent
sectarians were known, the better they were liked;
and none had greater opportunities of knowing them
better than their persecutor. At times he fancied he
saw the sweet face of the Master who inspired his
disciples with so much patience, regarding him with an
air of pity and tender reproach. He was also much

96 THE APOSTLES.

impressed by the accounts of the apparitions of JesuS,
describing him as an ariel being who was at times
visible ; for at the epochs and in the countries when
and where there is a tendency to the marvellous,
miraculous recitals influence equally each opposing
party. The Mahommedans, for instance, are afraid of
the miracles of Elias ; and, like the Christians, pray to
St. George and St. Anthony for supernatural cures.

Having crossed Ithuria, and while in the great plain
of Damascus, Paul, with several companions, all, as it
appears, journeying on foot, approached the city, and
had probably already reached the beautiful gardens
which surrounded it. The time was noon. The
road from Jerusalem to Damascus has in nowise
changed. It is the one, which, leaving Damascus
in a south-westerly direction, crosses the beautiful
plain watered by the streams flowing into the Abana
and the Pharpar, and upon which are now marshalled
the villages of Dareya, Kaukab, and Sasa. The exact
locality of which we speak, which was the scene of one
of the most important facts in the history of humanity,
could not have been beyond Kaukab (four hours from
Damascus). It is even probable that the point in
question was much nearer the city, perhaps about
Dareya (an hour and a half from Damascus), or be
tween Dareya and Meidan. The great city lay before
Paul, and the outlines of several of its edifices could be
dimly traced through the thick foliage : behind him
towered the majestic dome of Hermon, with its ridges
of snow, making it resemble the bald head of an old
man ; upon his right were the Hauran, the two little
parallel chains which enclose the lower [course of the
Pharpar, and the tumuli of the region of the lakes ; and
upon his left were the outer spurs of the Anti-Libanus
stretching out to Mt Hermon. The impression pro
duced by these richly-cultivated fields and beautiful
orchards, separated from one another by trenches and
laden with the most delicious fruits, is that of ueace

THE APOSTL&S. 97

and happiness. Let one imagine to himself a shady
road, passing through rich soil, crossed at intervals by
irrigating canals, bordered by declivities and serpen
tining through forests of olives, walnuts, apricots, and
prunes ; trees draped by graceful festoons of vines ; and
then will be presented to the mind the image of the
scene of that remarkable event which has exerted so
great an influence upon the faith of the world. In the
environs of Damascus one can scarcely believe oneself
in the East ; especially after leaving the arid and burn
ing regions of the Gaulonitide and of Ithuria. It is joy
indeed to meet once more the works of man and the
blessings of Heaven. From the most remote antiquity
until the present time this zone, which surrounds
Damascus with freshness and health, has had but one
name, has inspired but one dream,— that of the
" Paradise of God."

If Paul experienced these terrible visions, it was
because he carried them in his heart. Every step in
his journey towards Damascus awakened in him pain
ful perplexities. The odious part of executioner, which
he was about to undertake, became insupportable. The
houses which he saw through the trees were, perhaps,
those of his victims. This thought beset him and de
layed his steps ; he did not wish to advance ; he seemed
to be resisting a mysterious impulse which pressed him
forward. The fatigue of the journey, joined to this pre
occupation of mind, overwhelmed him. He had, it
would seem, inflamed eyes, probably the beginning of
ophthalmia. In these prolonged journeys, the last
hours are the most trying. All the debilitating effects
of the days just past accumulate, the nerves relax their
power, and a re-action sets in, Perhaps, also, the
sudden passage from the sun-smitten -plain to the cool
shades of the gardens enhanced his suttering condition
and seriously excited the fanatical traveller. Dangerous
fevers, accompanied by delirium, are quite sudden in
these latitudes, and in a few minutes the victim is pros-

98 THE APOSTLES.

trated as by a thunder-stroke. When the crisis is over,
the sufferer retains only the impression of a period of
profound darkness, relieved at intervals by dashes of
light in which he has seen images outlined against a
dark background. It is quite certain that a sudden
stroke instantly deprived Paul of his remaining con
sciousness, and threw him senseless on the ground.
From the accounts which we have of this singular event,
it is impossible to say whether any exterior fact led to
the crisis to which Christianity owes its most ardent
apostle. But in such cases, the exterior fact is of little
importance. It was the state of St. Paul's mind ; it was
his remorse on his approach to the city in which he was
to commit the most signal of his misdeeds, which were
the true causes of his conversion, for my part, I much
prefer the hypothesis of an affair personal to Paul, and
experienced by him alone. It is not, however, impro
bable that a thunder-storm suddenly burst forth. The
flanks of Mount Hermon are the point of formation for
thunder-showers which are unequalled in violence. The
most unimpressionable person cannot observe without
emotion these terrible hurricanes of fire. It ought to be
remembered that in ancient times accidents from light
ning were considered divine revelations ; that with the
ideas regarding providential interference then prevalent,
nothing was fortuitous ; and that every man was ac
customed to view the natural phemomena around him
as having a direct relation to himself. The Jews in
particular always considered that thunder was the voice
of God, and that lightning was the fire of God. Paul at
this juncture was in a state of great excitement, and it
was but natural that he should interpret as the voice of
the storm the thoughts which were passing in his mind.
That a delirious fever, resulting from a sun-stroke or an
attack of ophthalmia, had suddenly seized him ; that a
flash of lightning blinded him for a time ; that a peal
of thunder had produced a cerebral commotion, tem
porarily depriving him of sight — it matters little. The

THE APOSTLES. 99

recollections of [the apostle on this point appear to be
rather confused ; he was persuaded that the incident
was supernatural, and such a conviction would not
permit him to entertain any clear consciousness of
material circumstances. Such cerebral commotions
produce sometimes a sort of retroactive effect, and com
pletely perturb the recollections of the moments im
mediately preceding the crisis. Paul, moreover, else
where informs us that he was subject to visions ; and a
circumstance, insignificant as it might appear to others,
was sufficient to make him beside himself.

And what did he see, what did he hear, while he was
a prey to these hallucinations ? He saw the countenance
which had haunted him for several days ; he saw the
phantom of which so much had been told. He saw
Jesus himself, who spoke to him in Hebrew, saying,
" Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? " Impetuous
natures pass instantaneously from one extreme to the
other. For them there exists solemn moments which
change the course of a lifetime, which colder natures
never experience. Reflective men do not change, but
are transformed ; ardent men, on the contrary, change
and are not transformed. Dogmatism is a shirt of
Nessus which they cannot tear off. They must have a
pretext for loving and hating. Our western races alone
have been able to produce those minds — large yet
delicate, strong yet flexible — which no empty affirma
tion can mislead, no momentary illusion carry away.
The East has never produced men of this stamp. In
stantly, the most thrilling thoughts rushed in upon the
soul of Paul. Awakened to the enormity of his conduct,
he saw himself stained with the blood of Stephen, and
this martyr appeared to h'.m as his father, his initiator
into the new faith. Touched to the quick, his senti
ments experienced a revulsion as complete as it was
sudden ; still, all this was but a new phase of fanaticism.
His sincerity and his need of an absolute faith precluded
any middle course ; it was already clear that he would

r2

100 THE APOSTLES.

one day exhibit in the cause of Jesus the same fiery
zeal he had shown in persecuting him.

With the assistance of his companions, vho led him
by the hand, Paul entered Damascus. His friends took
him to the house of a certain Judas, who lived in the
street called Straight, a grand colonnaded avenue over
a mile long and a hundred feet broad, which crossed the
city from east to west, and the line of which yet forms,
with a few deviations, the principal artery of Damascus.
The blindness and delirium had not yet subsided. For
three days Paul, a prey to fever, neither ate nor drank.
It is easy to imagine what passed during this crisis in
that burning brain maddened by violent disease. Men
tion was made in his hearing of the Christians of
Damascus, and in particular of a certain Ananias, who
appeared to be the chief of the community. Paul had
often heard of the miraculous powers of new believers
over maladies, and he became impressed by the idea
that the imposition of hands would cure him of his
disease. His eyes all this time were highly inflamed,
and in his delirious imaginings he thought he saw
Ananias enter the room and make to him the sign fami
liar to Christians. From that moment he felt convinced
he should owe his recovery to Ananias. The latter, in
formed of this, visited the sick man, spoke kindly, ad
dressed him as his " brother," and laid his hands upon
his head ; and from that hour peace returned to the
soul of Paul. '* He believed himself cured ; and as his
ailment had been purely nervous, he was indeed cured.
Little crusts or scales, it is said, fell from his eyes ; he
partook of food and recovered his strength.

Almost immediately after this he was baptized. The
doctrines of the Church were so simple that he had
nothing new to learn, and became at once a Christian
and a perfect one. . And from whom else did he need
instruction ? Had not Jesus himself appeared to him ?
He too, like James and Peter, had had his vision of the
risen Jesus. He had learned everything by direct reve-

TEE APOSTLES. 101

lation. Here the fierce and unconquerable nature of
Paul was again made manifest. Smitten down on the
public highway, he was willing to submit, but only to
Jesus, to that Jesus who had left the right hand of the
Father to convert and instruct him. Such was the
foundation of his faith ; and such will be the starting
point of his pretensions. He will maintain that it was
by design that he did not go to Jerusalem immediately
after his conversion, and place himself in relations with
those who had been apostles before him ; he will main
tain that he has received a special revelation, for which
he is indebted to no human agency ; that, like the
Twelve, he is an apostle by divine institution
and by direct commission from Jesus ; that his
doctrine is the true one, although an angel from
heaven should say to the contrary.

An immense danger found entrance through this proud
man into the little society of the poor in spirit who until
now had constituted Christianity. It will be a real
miracle if his violence and his inflexible personality do
not overthrow everything. But at the same time his
boldness, his initiative force, his prompt decision, will
be precious elements when brought into contact with
the narrow, timid, and indecisive spirit of the saints of
Jerusalem ! Certainly, if Christianity had remained
confined to these good people, shut up in a conventicle
of elect, leading a communistic life, it would, like
Essenism, have faded away, leaving scarcely a trace
behind. • It is this ungovernable Paul who will secure
its success, and who at the risk of every peril will boldly
launch it on the high seas. By the side of the obedient
faithful, accepting his creed from his superior without
questioning him, there will be a Christian disengaged
from all authority who will believe only from personal con
viction. Protestantism thus existed five years after the
death of Jesus, and St. Paul was its illustrious founder.
Surely Jesus had not anticipated such disciples ; and it
was such as these who would most largely contribute to
the vitality of his work and insure its eternity.

102 THE AP03T1J&

Violent natures disposed to proselytism only change
the object of their passion. As ardent for the new
faith as he had been for the old, St. Paul, like Omar,
dropped in one day his part of persecutor for that of
apostle. He did not return to Jerusalem, where
his position towards the Twelve would have been
peculiar and delicate. He tarried at Damascus and in
the Hauran for three years (38-41), preaching that
Jesus was the Son of God. Herod Agrippa I. held
the sovereignty of the Hauran and of the neighbouring
countries ; but his power was at several points super
seded by that of a Nabatian king, Hareth. The decay
of the Roman power in Syria had delivered to the
ambitious Arab the great and rich city of Damascus,
besides a part of the countries beyond Jordan and Mount
Hermon, then just being opened up to civilization.
Another emir, Soheyn, perhaps a relative or lieutenant
of Hareth, had received from Caligula the command of
Ithuria. It was in the midst of this great awakening
of the Arab nation, upon this strange soil, where an
energetic race manifested with great success its feverish
activity, that Paul first displayed the ardour of his
apostolic soul. Perhaps the material and so remarkable
a movement which revolutionized the country was
prejudicial to a theory and to a preaching wholly idea
listic, and founded on a belief of a near approach of the
end of the world. Indeed, there exists no traces of an
Arabian Church founded by St. Paul. If the region of
the Hauran became, towards the year 70, one of the
most important centres of Christianity, it was owing t«
the emigration of Christians from Palestine ; and it
was the Ebonites, the enemies of St. Paul, who had in
this region their principal establishment.

At Damascus, where there were many Jews, the
teachings of Paul received more attention. In the
synagogues of that city he entered into warm argu
ments to prove that Jesus was the Christ. Great
indeed was the astonishment of the faithful on behold-

THE APOSfLEB. 103

ing him who had persecuted their brethren at Jerusalem,
and who had come to Damascus " to bring themselves
bound unto the chief-priests," now appearing as their
chief defender. His audacity and personal peculiarities
almost alarmed them. He was alone ; he sought no
counsel ; he established no school ; and the emotions
he excited were those of curiosity rather than those of
sympathy. The faithful felt that he was a brother, but
a brother distinguished by singular peculiarities. They
believed him to be incapable of treachery ; but
amiable and mediocre natures always experience
sentiments of mistrust and alarm when brought in
contact with powerful and original minds, who they
know must one day supersede them.

CHAPTER XI.

PEACE AND INTERIOR DEVELOPMENTS OF THE CHURCH
OF JUDEA.

FROM the year 38 to the year 44 no persecution seems
to have been directed against the Church. The faith
ful were, no doubt, far more prudent than before the
death of Stephen, and avoided speaking in public.
Perhaps, too, the troubles of the Jews who, during all
the second part of the reign of Caligula, were at
variance with that prince, contributed to favour the
nascent sect. The Jews, in fact, became active
persecutors in proportion to the good understanding
they maintained with the Romans. To buy or to
recompense their tranquility, the latter were led to
augment their privileges, and in particular the one to
which they clung most closely — the right of killing

104 THE APOSTLES.

persons whom they regarded as inimical to their law.
But the period at which we have arrived was one of the
most stormy in the turbulent history of this singular
people.

The antipathy which the Jews, in consequence of
their moral superiority, their odd customs, as well as
their harshness, excited in the populations among which
they lived, was at its height, especially at Alexandria.
This accumulated hatred, for its own satisfaction, took
advantage of the coming to the imperial throne of one
of the most dangerous lunatics that ever wore a crown.
Caligula, at least after the malady which completed his
mental derangement (October, 37), presented the fright
ful spectacle of a maniac governing the world endowed
with the most enormous powers ever put into the
hands of any man. The atrocious law of Csesarism
rendered such horrors possible, and left the governed
without remedy. This lasted three years and three
months. One cannot without shame set down in a
serious history that which is now to follow. Before
entering upon the recital of these saturnalia we cannot
but exclaim with Suetonius : Reliqua ui de monstro
narranda sunk

The most inoffensive pastime of this madman was
the care of his own divinity. In order to do this he
used a sort of bitter irony, a mixture of the serious and
the comic (for the monster was not wanting in wit), a
sort of profound derision of the human race. The
enemies of the Jews were not slow to perceive the
advantage they might gain from this mania. The
religious abasement of the world was such that not a
protest was heard against the sacrilege of the Caesar ;
every cult hastened to bestow upon him the titles and
the honours which it had reserved for its gods. It is
to the eternal glory of the Jews that, amidst this ignoble
idolatry, they uttered the cry of outraged conscience.
The principle of intolerance which was in them, and
which led them to so many cruel acts, exhibited here

THE APOSTLES. 105

its bright side. Alone in affirming their religion to be
the absolute religion, they would not bend to the
odious caprice of the tryant. This was the source of
endless troubles for them. It needed only that there
should be in a city some person discontented with
the synagogue, spiteful, or simply mischievous, to
bring about frightful consequences. At one time
people would insist on erecting an altar to Caligula in
the very place where the Jews could least of all suffer
it ? At another, a troupe of the rag-tags would collect,
and cry out against the Jews for being the only
people who refused to place the statue of the emperor
in their houses of prayer. Anon, people would run to
the synagogues and the oratories ; they would install
there the bust of Caligula ; and the unfortunate Jews
were placed in the alternative of either renouncing their
religion, or be guilty of high treason. Thence followed
frightful vexations.

Such pleasantries had been several times repeated
when a still more diabolical idea was suggested to the
emperor. This was to place a colossal golden statue of
himself in the sanctuary of the temple at Jerusalem,
and to have the temple itself dedicated to his own
divinity. This odious design very nearly hastened _ by
thirty years the revolt and the ruin of the Jewish nation.
The moderation of the imperial legate, Publius Petronius,
and the intervention of King Herod Agrippa, a favourite
of Caligula, averted the catastrophe. But until the
moment in which the sword of Chaersea delivered the
earth from the most execrable tyrant it had as yet
endured, the Jews lived everywhere in terror. Philo
has preserved for us the monstrous scene which occurred
when the deputation of which he was the chief was ad
mitted to see the emperor. Caligula received them
during a visit he was paying to the villas of Maecenas
and of Lamia, near the sea, in the environs of Pozzuoli.
On that day he was in a vein of gaiety. Helicon, his
favourite joker, had been relating to him all sorts of

106 THE APOStLES.

buffooneries about the Jews. "Ah, then, it is you,
said he to them, with a bitter smile, and showing hia
teeth, " who alone will not recognize me for a god, and
who prefer to adore one whose name you cannot even
utter ! " He accompanied these words with a horrible
blasphemy. The Jews trembled; their Alexandrian
enemies were the first to take up speech : " You would
still more, O Sire, detest these people and all their
nation, if you knew the aversion they have for you ; for
they alone have refused to offer sacrifices for your health
when all the other peoples have done so ! " At these
words, the Jews exclaimed that it was a calumny, and
that they had three times offered for the prosperity of
the emperor the most solemn sacrifices their religion
would allow. " Yes," said Caligula, with comical serious
ness, " you have sacrificed ; so far, good ; but it was not
to me that you sacrificed What advantage do I derive
therefrom ? " Thereupon, turning his back upon them,
he strode through the apartments, giving orders for
repairs, going up and down stairs incessantly. The un
fortunate deputies, and among them Philo, eighty years
of age, the most venerable man of the time, perhaps —
Jesus being no longer living — followed him up and
down, trembling and out of breath, the object of derision
to the assembled company. Caligula turning suddenly,
said to them : " By the by, why will you not eat pork ?"
The flatterers burst into laughter ! some of the officers,
in a severe tone, reminded them that in laughing im
moderately they offended the majesty of the emperor.
The Jews were stunned ; one of them awkwardly said :
" There are some persons who do not eat lamb.'' " Ah ! "
said the emperor, " such people are right ; lamb is in
sipid." Some time after, he made a show of inquiring
into their business ; then, when they had just begun to
inform him of it, he left them and went off to give
orders about the decorations of a hall which he wanted
to have adorned with specular stones. Returning, he
affected an air of moderation, and asked the deputation

THE APOSTLES. 10

if they had anything to add ; and as the latter resumed
their interrupted discourse, he turned his back upon
them to go and see another hall which he was orna
menting with paintings. This game of tiger sporting
with its prey lasted for hours. The Jews were expect
ing death ; but at the last moment the monster with
drew his fangs. " Well," said Caligula, while repassing
"these folks are decidedly less guilty than pitiable for
not believing in my divinity." Thus could the gravest
questions be treated under the horrible regime created
by the baseness of the world, cherished by a soldiery and
a populace about equally vile, and maintained by the
dissoluteness of nearly all.

We can easily understand how so painful a situation
must have taken from the Jews of the time of Marullus
much of that audacity which made them speak so boldly
to Pilate. Already almost entirely detached from the
temple, the Christians must have been much less
alarmed than the Jews at the sacreligious projects of
Caligula. Their numbers were, moreover, too few for
their existence to be known at Rome. The storm at
the time of Caligula, like that which resulted in the
taking of Jerusalem by Titus, passed over their heads,
and was in many regards serviceable to them. Every
thing which weakened Jewish independence was favour
able to them, since it was so much taken away from the
power of a suspicious orthodoxy, which maintained its
pretensions by severe penalties. $

This period of peace was fruitful in interior develop
ments. The nascent church was divided into three
provinces ; Judea, Samaria, Galilee, to which Damascus
was no doubt attached. The primacy of Jerusalem was
uncontested. The church of this city, which had been
dispersed after the death of Stephen, was quickly recon
stituted. The apostles had never quitted the city. The
brothers of the Lord continued to reside there, and to
wield a great authority. It does not seem that this
DCW church of Jerusalem was organized in so strict a

108 THE APOSTLES.

manner as the first : the community of goods was not
strictly re-established in it. But there was founded a
large fund for the poor, to which was added the contri
butions sent by minor churches to the mother church,
which latter was the origin and permanent source of their
faith.

Peter undertook frequent apostolical journeys in the
environs of Jerusalem. He had always a great repu
tation as a thaumaturgist. At Lydda in particular he
was reputed to have cured a paralytic named ^Eneas, a
miracle which is said to have led to numerous conver
sions in the plain of Saron. From Lydda he repaired to
Joppa, a city which appears to have been a centre for
Christianity. Cities of workmen, of sailors, of poor
people, where the orthodox Jews were not dominant,
were those in which the new sect found people the best
disposed towards them. Peter made a long sojourn at
Joppa, at the house of a tanner named Simon, who dwelt
near the sea. Working in feather was an industry
regarded as unclean, according to the Mosaic code ; it
was not lawful to associate with those who carried it on,
so that the curriers had to reside in a district by them
selves. Peter, in selecting such a host, gave a proof of
his indifference to Jewish prejudices, and worked for that
ennoblement of petty callings which constitutes a grand
feature of the Christian spirit.

The organization of works of charity was soon actively
entered upon. The church of Joppa possessed a woman
most appropriately named in Aramaic, Tabitha (gazelle),
and in Greek, Dorcas, who consecrated all her time to
the poor. She was rich, it seems, and distributed her
wealth in alms. This worthy lady had formed a society
of pious widows, who passed their days with her in wea
ving clothes for the poor. As the schism between
Christianity and Judaism was not yet consummated, it
is probable that the Jews participated in the benefit of
these acts of charity. The " saints and widows " were
thus pious persons, doing good to all, a sort of friars and

THE APOSTLES. 109

nuns, whom only the most austere devotees of a pedantic
orthodoxy could suspect, fraticelli, loved by the people,
devout, charitable, full of pity.

The germ of those associations of women, which are
one of the glories of Christianity, thus existed in the
first churches of Judea. At Jaffa commenced those
societies of veiled women, clothed in linen, who were
destined to continue through centuries the tradition of
charitable secrets. Tabitha was the mother of a family
which will have no end as long as there are miseries to
be relieved and feminine instincts to be gratified. It is
related further on, that Peter raised her from the dead.
Alas! death, however unmindful and revolting, in such a
case, is inflexible. When the most exquisite soul has
sped, the decree is irrevocable ; the most excellent woman
can no more respond to the invitation of the friendly
voices which would fain recall her, than can the vulgar
and frivolous. But ideas are not subject to the conditions
of matter. Virtue and goodness escape the fangs of
death. Tabitha had no need to be resuscitated. For
the sake of a few days more of this sad life, why disturb
her sweet and eternal repose ? Let her sleep in peace ;
the day of the just will come !

In these very mixed cities, the problem of the admis
sion of Pagans to baptism was propounded with much
persistency. Peter was strongly pre-occupied by it. One
day while he was praying at Joppa, on the terrace of the
tanner's house, having before him the sea that was soon
going to bear the new faith to all the empire, he had a
prophetic ecstasy. Plunged into a state of reverie, he
thought he experienced a sensation of hunger, and asked
for something to eat. And while they were making it
ready for him, he saw the heavens opened, and a cloth
tied at the four corners descend. Looking inside the
cloth he saw there all sorts of animals, and thought he
heard a voice saying to him : " Kill and eat." On his
objecting that many of these animals were impure, he
was answered : " Call not that unclean which God has

110 THE APOSTLES.

cleansed." This, as it appears, was repeated three times.
Peter was persuaded that these animals represented the
mass of the Gentiles, which God himself had just ren
dered fit for the holy communion of the Kingdom of
God.

An occasion was soon presented for applying these
principles. From Joppa, Peter went to Cesarea. There
he came in contact with a centurion named Cor
nelius. The garrison of Cesarea was formed, at least in
part, of one of those cohorts composed of Italian volun
teers which were called Italicce. The complete name
which this term represented may have been cohors prima
Augustus Italica civium Romanorum. Cornelius was
a centurion of this cohort, consequently an Italian and a
Roman citizen. ' He was a man of probity, who had
long felt himself drawn towards the monotheistic wor
ship of the Jews. He prayed ; gave alms ; practised, in
a word, those precepts of natural religion which are
taken for granted by Judaism ; but he was not circum
cised ; he was not a proselyte in any sense whatever ; he
was a pious Pagan, an Israelite in heart, nothing more.
His whole household and some soldiers of his command
were, it is said, in the same state of mind. Cornelius
applied for admission into the new Church. Peter, whose
nature was open and benevolent, granted it to him, and
the centurion was baptized.

Perhaps Peter at first saw no difficulty in this ; but
on his return to Jerusalem he was severely reproached
for it. He had openly violated the Law ; he had gone
amongst the uncircumcized and had eaten with them.
The question was an important one ; it was no other
than whether ikd Law was abolished ; whether it was
permissible to violate it in proselytism ; whether Gentiles
could be freely received into the Church. Peter related
in self defence the vision he had at Joppa. Subsequently
thefactof the centurion served as an argument in thegreat
question of the baptism of the uncircumcized. To give it
more importance it was pretended that each phase ^f

THE APOSTLES. HI

this important business had been marked by a revela
tion from heaven. It was related that after long prayers
Cornelias had seen an angel who ordered him to go and
inquire for Peter at Joppa ; that the symbolical vision
of Peter took place at the very hour of the arrival of the
messengers from Cornelius; that, moreover, God himself
had undertaken to legitimize all that had been done,
seeing that the Holy Ghost had descended upon Cornelius,
and upon his household the latter having spoken strange
tongues and sung psalms after the fashion of the other
believers. Was it natural to refuse baptism to persons
who had received the Holy Ghost ?

The Church of Jerusalem was still exclusively com
posed of Jews and of proselytes. The Holy Ghost being
shed upon the uncircumcized before baptism, appeared
an extraordinary fact. It is probable that there existed
thenceforward a party opposed in principle to the admis
sion of Gentiles, and that all did not accept the explana
tions of Peter. The author of the Acts would have us
believe that the approbation was unanimous. But in a
few years we shall see the question revived with much
greater intensity. This matter of the good centurion
was, perhaps, like that of the Ethiopian eunuch, accepted
as an exceptional case, justified by a revelation and an,
express order from God. Still the matter was far from
being settled. This was the first controversy which had
taken place in the bosom of the Church ; the paradise
of interior peace had lasted for six or seven years.

About the year 40, the great question upon which
depended all the future of Christianity appears thus to
have been propounded. Peter and Philip took a very
just view of what was the true solution, and baptized
Pagans. It is difficult, no doubt, in the two accounts
given us by the author of the Acts on this subject, and
which are partly borrowed one from the other, not to
recognize an argument. The author of the Acts be
longed to a party of conciliation, favourable to the in
troduction of Pagans into the Church, and who was not

THE APOSTLES.

willing to confess the violence of the divisions to which
the affair gave rise. One feels strongly that in writing
the account of the eunuch, of the centurion, and even of
the conversion of the Samaritans, this author means not
only to narrate facts, but also seeks special precedents
for an opinion. On the other hand, we cannot admit
that he invents the facts which he narrates. The con
versions of the eunuch of Candace, and of the centurion
Cornelius, are probably real facts, which are presented
and transformed according to the needs of the thesis in
view of which the book of the Acts was composed.

Paul, who was destined, some ten or twelve years
later, to give to this discussion so decisive a bearing,
had not yet meddled with it. He was in the Hauran,
or at Damascus, preaching, refuting the Jews, placing
at the service of the new faith the same ardour he had
shown in combatting it. The fanaticism, of which he
had once been the instrument, was not long in pursuing
him in turn. The Jews resolved to kill him. They
obtained from the ethnarch, who governed Damascus in
the name of Hareth, an order to arrest him. Paul hid
himself. It was known that he was to leave the city ;
the ethnarch, who wanted to please the Jews, placed
detachments at the gates to seize his person ; but the
brethren secured his escape by night, letting him down
in a basket from the window of a house which over
looked the ramparts.

Having escaped this danger, Paul turned his eyes to
wards Jerusalem. He had been a Christian for three
years, and had not yet seen the apostles. His stern, un
yielding character, prone to isolation, had made him at
first turn his back as it were upon the great family into
which he had just entered in spite of himself, and prefer
for his first apostolate a new country, in which he would
find no colleague. There was awakened in him, how-*
ever, a desire to see Peter. He recognized his authority^
and designated him, as every one did, by the name of
Cephas, " the stone." He repaired then to Jerusalem,

fHE APOSTLES. Il3

taking tne same road, whence he had come three years
before in a state of mind so different.

His position at Jerusalem was extremely false and
embarrassing. It had, no doubt, been understood there
that the persecutor had become the most zealous of
evangelists, and one of the first defenders of the faith
which he had formerly sought to destroy. But there
remained great prejudices against him. Many dreaded
on his part some horrible plot. They had seen him so
enraged, so cruel, so zealous in entering houses and tear
ing open family secrets in order to find victims, that he
was believed capable of playing an odious farce in order
to destroy those whom he hated. He resided, as it
seems, in the house of Peter. Many disciples remained
deaf to his advances, and shrank from him. Barnabas,
a man of courage and will, took at this moment a de
cisive part. As a Cypriote and a new convert, he under
stood better than the Galilean disciples the position of
Paul. He came to meet him, took him by the hand,
introduced him to the most suspicious, and became his
surety. By this sagacious and far-seeing act, Barnabas
earned at the hands of the Christian worlds the highest
degree of merit. It was he who appreciated Paul ; it is
to him that the Church owes the most extraordinary of
her founders. The advantageous friendship of these
two apostolic men, a friendship that no cloud ever tar
nished, notwithstanding many differences in opinion,
afterwards led to their association in the work of .missions
to the Gentiles. This grand association dates, in one
sense, from Paul's first sojourn at Jerusalem. Amongst
the sources of the faith of the world, we must count the
generous movement of Barnabas, who stretched out his
hand to the suspected and forsaken Paul ; the profound
intuition which led him to discover the soul of an apostle
under that downcast mien ; the frankness with which
he broke the ice and levelled the obstacles raised be
tween the convert and his new brethren by the unfortu
nate antecedents of the former, and perhaps, also, by
certain traits in his character.

114 THE APOSTLES.

Paul, however, systematically avoided seeing the
apostles. He himself says so, and he takes the trouble
to affirm it with an oath ; he saw only Peter, and James
the brother of the Lord. His sojourn lasted but two
weeks. It is certainly possible that at the time in
which he wrote the Epistle to the Galatians (towards
56), Paul may have found himself constrained by the
exigencies of the moment, to alter a little the nature of
his relations with the apostles ; to represent them as
more harsh, more imperious, than they were in reality.
Towards 56 the essential point for him to prove was
that he had received nothing from Jerusalem — that he
was in no wise the mandatory of the Council of the
Twelve established in this city. His attitude at Jeru
salem would have been the proud and lofty bearing of a
master, who avoids relations with other masters in order
not to have the air of subordinating himself to them,
and not the humble and repentant mien of a sinner
ashamed of the past, as the author of the Acts repre
sents. We cannot believe that from the year 41 Paul
was animated by this jealous care to preserve his own
individuality, which he showed at a later day. The
few interviews he had with the apostles, and the brief
ness of his sojourn at Jerusalem, arose probably from
his embarrassment in the presence of people, whose
nature was different from his own, and who were full of
prejudices against him, rather than from a refined
policy, which would have revealed to him fifteen years
in advance the disadvantages there might be in his fre
quenting their society. ^

In reality, that which must have erected a sort of wall
between the apostles and Paul, was the difference of
their character and of their education, The apostles
were all Galileans ; they had not been at the great
Jewish school ; they had seen Jesus ; they remembered
his words ; they were good and pious folk, at times a
little solemn and simple-hearted. Paul was a man of
action, full of fire, only moderately mystical, enrolled, as

115

by a superior power, in a sect which was not that of his
first adoption. Revolt, protestation, were his habitual
sentiments. His Jewish education was much superior
to that of all his new brethren. But not having heard
Jesus, not having been appointed by him, he was, ac
cording to Christian ideas, greatly inferior.

Now Paul was not the man to accept a secondary
place. His haughty temperament required a position
for itself. It was probably about this time that there
sprang up in him the singular idea that after all he had
nothing to envy those who had known Jesus, and had
been chosen by him, since he also had seen Jesus, and
had received from Jesus a direct revelation and the com
mission of his apostleship. Even those who had been
honoured by the'personal appearance of the risen Christ
were no better than he was. Although the last apostle,
his vision had been none the less remarkable. It had
taken place under circumstances which gave it a peculiar
stamp of importance and of distinction. A signal
error ! The echo of the voice of Jesus was found in the
discourses of the humblest of his disciples. With all his
Jewish science, Paul could not make up for the im
mense disadvantage under which he was placed in conse
quence of his tardy initiation. The Christ whom he had
seen on the road to Damascus was not, whatever he
might say, the Christ of Galilee ; it was the Christ of
his imagination, of his own conception. Although he
may have been most industrious in learning the words
of the Master, it is clear that he was only a disciple at
second-hand. If Paul had met Jesus during his life, it
is doubtful whether he would have attached himself to
him. His doctrine must be his own, not that of Jesus ;
the revelations of which he was so proud were the fruit
of his own brain.

These ideas, which he dared not as yet communicate,
rendered his stay at Jerusalem disagreeable. At the
end of a fortnight he took leave of Peter, and went
away. He had seen so few people that he vsntured to

THE APOSTLES.

say that no one in the Churches of Judea knew him by
sight, or knew aught of him, save by hearsay. At a
subsequent period he attributed this sudden departure
to a revelation. He related that being one day in the
temple praying, he was in an ecstasy, and saw 3 esus in
person, and received from him the order to quit Jerusa
lem immediately, " because they were not inclined to
receive his testimony." As a compensation for these
hard hearts, Jesus had promised him the Apostolate of
distant nations, and an auditory who would listen more
willingly to his words. Those who would fain hide the
traces of the many ruptures caused by the coming of
this intractable disciple into the church, pretended
that Paul remained a long while at Jerusalem, living
with the brethren on a footing of the most complete
amity ; but that, having begun to preach to the Hel
lenic Jews, he was nearly killed by them, so that the
brethren had to protect him, and to send him safely to
Csesarea.

It is probable, indeed, that from Jerusalem he did re
pair to Csesarea. But he stayed there only a short time,
and then set out to traverse Syria, and afterwards
Cilicia. He was, no doubt, already preaching, but it
was on his own account, and without any understanding
with anybody. Tarsus, his native place, was his habitual
sojourn during this period of his apostolic life, which we
may reckon as having lasted about two years. It is
possible that the Churches of Cilicia owed their origin
to him. Still, the life of Paul was not at this epoch
that which we see it to be subsequently. He did not
assume the title of an apostle, which latter was then
strictly reserved to the Twelve. It was only from the
time of his association with Barnabas (in 45) that he
entered upon that career of sacred peregrinations and
preachings which were to make of him the typical
travelling missionary.

THE APOSTLES. H7

\

CHAPTER XII

FOUNDATION OF THE CHURCH OF ANTIOCH.

THE new faith was spread from place to place with
marvellous rapidity. The members of the church of
Jerusalem, who had been dispersed immediately after
the death of Stephen, pushing their conquests along the
coast of Phoenicia, reached Cyprus and Antioch. They
were at first guided by the sole principle of preaching
the Gospel to the Jews only.

Antioch, " the metropolis of the East," the third city
of the world, was the centre of this Christian movement
in northern Syria. It was a city with a population of
more than 500,000 souls, almost as large as Paris before
its recent extensions, and the residence of the Imperial
Legate of Syria. Suddenly advanced to a high degree
of splendour by the Seleucidae, it reaped great benefit
from the Roman occupation. In general, the SeleucidaB
were in advance of the Romans in the taste for theatrical
decorations, as applied to great cities. Temples, aque
ducts, baths, basilicas, nothing was wanting at Antioch
in what constituted a grand Syrian city of that period.
The streets, flanked by colonnades, their cross-roads
being decorated with statues, had more of symmetry and
regularity than anywhere else. A Corso, ornamented
with four rows of columns, forming two covered
galleries, with a wide avenue in the midst, traversed
the city from one side to the other, the length of which
was thirty-six stadia (more than a league). But
Antioch not only possessed immense edifices of public
utility ; it had also that which few of the Syrian cities
possessed—the noblest specimens of Grecianart, beautiful
statues, classical works of a delicacy of detail which the
age was no longer capable of imitating. Antioch, from
its foundation, had been wholly a Grecian city. The

118 THE APOSTLES.

Macedonians of Antigone and Seleucus had brought
with them into that country of the Lower Orontes their
most lively recollections, their worship, and the names
of their country. The Grecian mythology was there
adopted as it were in a second home ; they pretended
to show in the country a crowd of " holy places " form
ing part of this mythology. The city was full of the
worship of Apollo and of the nymphs. Daphne, an en
chanting place two short hours from the city, reminded
the conquerors of the pleasantest fictions. It was a
sort of plagiarism, a counterfeit of the myths of the
mother country, analogous to that which the primitive
tribes carried with them in their travels — their mythi
cal geography, their Berecyntha, their Arvanda, their
Ida, their Olympus. These Greek fables was for them
an antiquated religion, scarcely more serious than the
Metamorphoses of Ovid. The ancient religions of the
country, particularly that of Mount Cassius, contributed
a little seriousness to it. But Syrian levity, Babylonian
charlatanism, and all the impostures of Asia, mingling
at this border of the two worlds, had made Antioch the
capital of all lies, and the sink of every description of
infamy.

In fact, besides the Greek population/which in no part of
the East (with the exception of Alexandria) was as numer
ous as here, Antioch counted amongst its population a
considerable number of native Syrians, speaking Syriac.
These natives were a low class, inhabiting the suburbs
of the great city, and the populous villages which
formed a vast suburb all around it — Charandama,
Ghisira, Gandigura, and Apate (chiefly Syrian names).
Marriages between the Syrians and the Greeks were
common : Seleucus had made naturalization a legal
obligation binding on every stranger establishing him
self in the city, so that Antioch, at the end of three
centuries and a half of its existence, became one of the
places in the world where race was most blended with
race. The degradation of the people was awful, The

THE APOSTLES. 119

peculiarity of these centres of moral putrefaction is
to reduce all the race of mankind to the same level.
The depravity of certain Levantine cities, which are
dominated by the spirit of intrigue and delivered up
entirely to low cunning, can scarcely give us an idea of
the degree of corruption reached by the human race at
Antioch. It was an inconceivable medley of mounte*
banks, quacks, buffoons, magicians, miracle-mongers,
sorcerers, false priests ; a city of races, games, dances,
processions, fetes, revels, of unbridled luxury, of all the
follies of the East, of the most unhealthy superstitions
and of the fanaticism of the orgy. By turns servile and
ungrateful, cowardly and insolent, the people of Antiocb
were the perfect model of peoples devoted to Csesarism,
without fatherland, without nationality, without family
honour, without a name to guard. The great Cor so
which traversed the city was like a theatre, where
rolled, day after day> the waves of a trifling, light
headed, changeable, insurrection-loving populace — a
populace sometimes witty, occupied with songs, parodies,
squibs, impertinence of all kinds. The city was very
literary, but literary only in the literature of rhetoricians.
The sights were strange ; there were some games in
which bands of naked young girls took part, with
nothing but a mere fillet around them ; at the cele
brated festival of Maiouma, troops of courtesans swam
in public in basins filled with limpid water. It was like
an intoxication, like a dream of Sardanapalus, where
all the pleasures, all the debaucheries, not excluding,
however, some of a most delicate kind, were unrolled pell-
mell. The river of filth, which, making its exit by the
mouth of the Orontesv was invading Rome, had here
its principal source. Two hundred decurions were
employed in regulating the religious ceremonies and
celebrations. The municipality possessed great public
domains, the rents of which the decemvirs divided
amongst the poor citizens. Like all cities of pleasure,
Antioch had a lowest class living on the public or on
sordid gains.

20 THE APOSTLES.

The beauty of works of art, and the infinite charm of
nature, prevented this moral degradation from sinking
entirely into hideousness and vulgarity. The site of
Antioch is one of the most picturesque in the world. The
city occupied the space between the Orontes and the
slopes of Mount Silpius, one of the spurs of Mount
Cassius. Nothing could equal the abundance and limpid-
ness of the waters. The fortified portion, climbing up
perpendicular rocks, by a master-piece of military archi
tecture, enclosed the summit of the mountains, and
formed, with the rocks at a tremendous height, -an
indented crown of marvellous effect. This disposition
of ramparts, uniting the advantages of the ancient acro
polis with those of the great walled cities, was in general
preferred by the generals of Alexander, as one sees in
the Pierian Seleucia, in Ephesus, in Smyrna, in Thes-
salonica. The result was astonishing perspectives.
Antioch had within its walls mountains seven hundred
feet in height, perpendicular rocks, torrents, precipices,
deep ravines, cascades, inaccessible caves ; and, in the
midst of all these, delightful gardens. A thick wood of
myrtles, of flowering box, of laurels, of evergreen plants
— and of the richest green — rocks carpeted with pinks,
with hyacinths, and cyclamens, gave to these wild heights
the aspect of gardens suspended in the air. The variety
of the flowers, the freshness of the turf, composed of an
incredible number of delicate grasses, the beauty of the
plane trees which border the Orontes, inspire the gaiety,
the tinge of sweet odour, with which the fine genius of
Chrysostom, Libanius, and Julian was, as it were, in
toxicated. On the right bank of the river stretches a
vast plain bounded on one side by the Amanus, and the
oddly-shaped mountains of Pieria ; on the other side by
the plateaus of Cyrrhestica, behind which is concealed
the dangerous neighbourhood of the Arab and the
desert. The valley of the Orontes, which opens to the
west, puts thisinterior basin into communication with the
sea, or rather with the vast world, in the bosom of which

THE APOSTLES. 121

the Mediterranean has constituted from all time a sort
neutral highway and federal bond.

Amongst the different colonies which the liberal
ordinances of the Seleucidae had attracted to the capital
of Syria, that of the Jews was one of the most numerous ;
it dated from the time of Seleucus Nicator, and enjoyed
the same rights as the Greeks. Although the Jews had
an ethnarch of their own, their relations with the
Pagans were very frequent. Here, as at Alexandria,
these relations often degenerated into quarrels and
aggressions. On the other hand, they afforded a field
for an active religious propagandism. The official poly
theism becoming more and more insufficient to meet
the wants of serious minds, the Grecian philosophy and
Judaism attracted all those whom the vain pomps of
Paganism could not satisfy. The number of proselytes
was considerable. From the first days of Christianity,
Antioch had furnished to the Church of Jerusalem one
of its most influential members, viz. Nicholas, one of the
deacons. There existed there promising germs, which
only waited for a ray of grace to cause them to burst
forth into bloom and to bear the most excellent fruits
which had hitherto been produced.

The Church of Antioch owed its foundation to some
believers originally from Cyprus and Cyrene, who had
already been much engaged in preaching. Up to
this time they had only addressed themselves to the
Jews. But in a city where pure Jews — Jews who were
proselytes/'people fearing God " — or half- Jewish Pagans
and pure Pagans, lived together, exclusive preach
ing restricted to a group of houses, became im
possible. - That feeling of religious aristocracy on which
the Jews of Jerusalem so much prided themselves, did
not exist in those large cities, where civilization was
altogether of the profane sort, where the scope was
greater, and where prejudices were less firmly rooted
The Cypriot and Cyrenian missionaries were then con
strained to depart from their rule. They preached to
the Jews and to the Greeks indifferently.

122 THE APOSTLES.

The dispositions of the Jewish and of the Pagan
population appeared at this time to have been very un
satisfactory. But circumstances of another kind prob
ably subserved the new ideas. The earthquake, which
had done serious damage to the city on 23rd March, of
the year 37, still occupied their minds. The whole city
was talking about an impostor named Debborius, who
pretended to be able to prevent the recurrence of such
accidents by silly talismans. This sufficed to direct
preoccupied minds towards supernatural matters. But,
be this as it may, the success of the Christian preaching
was great. A young, innovating, and ardent Church,
full of the future, because it was composed of the most
diverse elements, was quickly founded. All the gifts
of the Holy Sprirt were there poured out, and it was
easy to perceive that this new church, emancipated
from the strict Mosaism which erected an insuperable
barrier around Jerusalem, would become the second
cradle of Christianity. Assuredly, Jerusalem must
remain for ever the capital of the Christian world ;
nevertheless, the point of departure of the Church of
the Gentiles, the primordial focus of Christian missions,
was, in truth, Antioch. It was there that for the first
time, a Christian Church was established, freed from the
bonds of Judaism ; it was there that the great pro
paganda of the Apostolic age was established ; it was
there that St. Paul assumed a definite character.
Antioch marks the second halting -place of the progress
of Christianity and in respect of Christian nobility,
neither Rome, nor Alexandria, nor Constantinople can
be at all compared with it.

The topography of ancient Antioch is so effaced that
we should search in vain over its site, nearly destitute
as it is of any vestiges of the antique, for the spot to
which to attach such grand recollections. Here, as
everywhere, Christianity was, doubtless, established in
the poor quarters of the city and among the petty
tradespeople. The basilica, which is called " the old "

THE APOSTLES. 123

and " apostolic " in the fourth century, was situated in
the street called Singon, near the Pantheon. But no
one knows where this Pantheon was. Tradition and
certain vague analogies would induce us to search the
primitive Christian quarter near the gate, which even
to-day is still called Paul's gate, Bdb-bolos, and at the
foot of the mountain, named by Procopius titavrin, on
which stands the south-east side of the ramparts of
Antioch. It was one of the quarters of the town which
least abounded in Pagan monuments. There, are still
to be seen the remains of ancient sanctuaries dedicated
to St. Peter, St. Paul and St. John. These appear to
have been the quarter where Christianity was longest
maintained after the Mohammedan conquest. There,
too, as it appeared, was the quarter of " the saints," in
opposition to the profane Antioch. The rock is honey
combed, like a beehive, with grottoes which seem to
have been used by the Anchorites. When one walks
on these sharp-cut declivities, where, about the fourth
century, the good Stylites, disciples at once of India and
of Galilee, of Jesus and of Cakya-Mouni, disdainfully
contemplated the voluptuous city from the summit of
their pillar or from their flower-adorned cavern, it is
probable that one is not far from the very spot where
Peter and Paul dwelt. The Church of Antioch is the
one whose history is most authentic, and least encum
bered with fables. Christian tradition, in a city where
Christianity was perpetuated with so much vigour, must
possess some value.

The prevailing language of the Church of Antioch was
the Greek. It is, however, very probable that the
suburbs where Syriac was spoken, furnished a great num
ber of converts to the sect. Hence, Antioch already
contained the germ of two rival, and, at a later, period,
hostile Churches ; the one speaking Greek, and now re
presented by the Syrian Greeks, whether orthodox or
Catholics ; the other, whose actual representatives are
the Maronites, who previously spoke Syriac and guarcj

124 THE APOSTLES.

it still as if it were a sacred tongue. The Maronites,
who under their entirely modern Catholicism conceal a
high antiquity, are probably the last descendants of
those Syrians anterior to Seleucus, of those suburbans,
pagani of Ghisra, Charandama, &c., who from the first
ages became a separate church, were persecuted by the
orthodox emperors as heretics, and escaped into the
Libanus, where, from hatred of the Grecian Church and
in consequence of deeper sympathies, they allied them
selves with the Latins.

As for the converted Jews at Antioch, they too were
very numerous. But we are bound to believe that they
accepted from the very first a fraternal alliance with
the Gentiles. It was then on the shores of the Orontes
that the religious fusion of races, dreamed of by Jesus,
or to speak more fully, by six centuries of prophets,
became a reality.

CHAPTER Xin.

THE IDEA OF AN APOSTOLATE TO THE GENTILES. —
SAINT BARNABAS.

GREAT was the excitement at Jerusalem when it was
learned what had taken place at Antioch. Notwith
standing the kindly wishes of some of the principal
members of the Church of Jerusalem, Peter in par
ticular, the Apostolic College continued to be influenced
by the meanest ideas. On every occasion when it was
told that the glad tidings had been announced to the
heathen, some of the elders manifested signs of dis
appointment. The man who at this time triumphecj

1HE APOSTLES. 125

over this miserable jealously, and who prevented the
harrow exclusiveness of the " Hebrews " from ruining
the future of Christianity, was Barnabas. He was the
most enlightened member of the Church at Jerusalem.
He was the chief of the liberal party, which desired
progress, and wished the Church to be open to all. He
had already powerfully contributed towards removing the
mistrust with which Paul was regarded ; and he now,
also, exercised a marked influence. Sent as a delegate
of the apostolical body to Antioch, he inquired into and
approved of all that had been done, and declared that
the new Church had only to continue in the course
upon which it had entered. Conversions were effected
in great numbers. The vital and creative force of
Christianity appeared to be centred at Antioch. Barna
bas, whose zeal sought every occasion to display itself
with the utmost vigour, remained there. Antioch
thenceforth was his Church, and it was there that he
exercised his most influential and important ministry.
Christianity has always done injustice to this great
man in not placing him in the first rank of her
founders. Barnabas was the patron of all good and
liberal ideas. His discriminating boldness often served
to counterbalance the obstinacy of the narrow-minded
Jews who formed the conservative party of Jerusalem.

A magnificent idea sprung up in this noble heart at
Antioch. Paul was at Tarsus in forced repose, which,
to an active man like him, must have been perfect
torture. His false position, his haughtiness, and his
exaggerated pretensions, were sapping many of his
other and better qualities. He was fretting himself,
and remained almost useless. Barnabas knew how to
apply to its true work that force which was wasting
away in this unhealthy and dangerous solitude. For
the second time, Barnabas held out the hand of friend
ship to Paul, and led this intractable character into the
society of those brethren whom he wished to avoid.
He went himself to Tarsus, sought him out, and brought

126 fHE APOSTLES.

him to Antioch. He did that which those obstinate
old brethren of Jerusalem would never have brought
themselves to do. To win over this great shrinking
and susceptible soul ; to accommodate oneself to the
caprices and whims of a man full of ardour, and at the
same time most personal ; to take a secondary place to
him, and forgetful of oneself, to prepare the field of
operations for the most favourable display of his
abilities — all this is certainly the very climax of virtue ;
and this is what Barnabas did for Paul. Most of the
glory, which has accrued to the latter, is really due to
the modest man, who excelled him in everything,
brought his merits to light, prevented more than once
his faults from resulting deplorably to himself and
his cause, and the illiberal views of others from excit
ing him to revolt ; and also prevented mean personalities
from interfering with the work of God.

During an entire year Barnabas and Paul worked
together. This was a most brilliant, and, without
doubt, the most happy year in the life of Paul. The
prolific originality of these two great men raised the
Church of Antioch to a degree of grandeur to which no
Christian Church had previously attained. Few places
in the world had experienced more intellectual activity
than the capital of Syria. During the Roman epoch,
as in our time, social and religious questions were
brought to the surface principally at the centres ol
population. A sort of reaction against the general
immorality, which made Antioch later, the special abode
of Stylites and hermits, was already felt ; and the true
doctrine thus found in this city, more favourable con
ditions for success than it had yet met.

An important circumstance proves, besides, that it
I/as at Antioch that the sect for the first time felt the
full consciousness of its existence ; for it was in this
city that it received a distinct name. Hitherto its
adherents had called themselves " believers," " the
"saints," "brothers," "the disciples;" but

THE APOSTLES. 12?

the sect had no public and official name. It was at
Antioch that the title of Christianus was devised.
The termination of the work is Latin, not Greek,
which would indicate that it was selected by the
Roman authority as a police designation, like Hero-
diani, Pompeiana, Ccesariani. In any event it is
certain that such a name was formed by the heathen
population, It included an error, for it implied that
Christus, a translation of the Hebrew Maschiah (the
Messiah), was a proper name. Not a few of those who
were unfamiliar with Jewish or Christian Ideas, were
by this name led to believe that Christus or Chrestus
was a sectarian leader yet living. The vulgar pro
nunciation of the name indeed was Chrestiani.

The Jews did not adopt, in a regular manner, at
least, the name given by the Romans to their schis
matic co-religionist. They continued to call the new
converts " Nazarenes " or " Nazorenes," because no
doubt they were accustomed to call Jesus Han-nasri
or Han-nosri, "the Nazarene;" and even unto the
present day, this name is still applied to them through
out the entire East.

This was a most important moment. Solemn indeed
is the hour when the new creation receives its name,
for that name is the direct symbol of its existence. It
is by its name that a being, individual or collective,
really becomes itself, and is distinct from others. The
formation of the word " Christian " marks thus the
precise date of the separation from Judaism of the
Church of Jesus. For a long time to come the two
religions were still confounded ; but this confusion could
only take place in those countries where the spread of
Christianity was slow and backward. The sect quickly
accepted the appelation which was applied to it, and
viewed it as a title of honour. It is really astonishing
to reflect that ten years after the death of Jesus, his
religion had already, in the capital of Syria, a name in
the Greek and Latin tongues, Christianity was now

128 THE APOSTLES.

completely weaned from its mother ; the true sentiments
of Jesus had triumphed over the indecision of his first
disciples; the Church of Jerusalem was left behind;
the Aramaic language, in which Jesus spoke, was un
known to a portion of his followers ; Christianity spoke
Greek, and was finally launched into that great vortex
of the Greek and Roman world, whence it has never
departed.

The feverish activity of ideas manifested by this
young Church must have been truly extraordinary.
Great spiritual manifestations were frequent. All
believed themselves to be inspired in various ways.
Some were " prophets," others " teachers." Barnabas,
as his name indicates, was no doubt among the pro
phets. Paul had no special title. Among the leaders
of the Church at Antioch are also mentioned Simeon,
surnamed Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, and Menahem, who
had been the foster-brother of Herod Antipas, and was
consequently rather old. All these personages were
Jews. Among the converted heathen was, perhaps,
already that Evhode, who, at a certain period, seems to
have occupied the first place in the church of Antioch.
Undoubtedly the heathen who heard the first preaching
were slightly inferior, and did not shine in the public
exercises of using unknown tongues, of preaching, and
prophecy.

In the midst of the congenial society of Antioch, Paul
quickly adapted himself to the order of things. Later,
he manifested opposition to the use of tongues, and it is
probable that he never practised it ; but he had many
visions and immediate revelations. It was apparently
at Antioch where occurred that ecstatic trance which
he describes in these terms : " I knew a man in Christ
above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I can
not tell ; or whether out of the body I cannot tell —
God knoweth) ; such an one was caught up to the third
heaven. And I knew such a man (whether in the
body, or out of the body, I cannot tell — God knoweth) j

THE APOSTLES, 129

how that he was caught up into paradise, and heard
unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to
utter." Paul, though in general, prudent and practical,
shared the prevalent ideas of the day in regard to the
supernatural. Like so many others, he believed that
he was working miracles, like everybody ; it was im
possible that the gifts of the Holy Sprit, which were
acknowledged to be the common right of the church,
should be denied to him.

But men permeated with so lively a faith could not
content themselves with merely exuberant piety, so
they panted soon for action. The idea of great
missions, destined to convert the heathen, beginning
in Asia Minor, seized hold of the public mind. Had such
an idea been formed at Jerusalem, it could not have been
realized, because the church there was without pecuniary
resources. An extensive undertaking of propagandism
requires a certain [capital to work on. Now, the
common treasury at Jerusalem was entirely devoted to
the support of the poor, and was frequently insufficient
for that purpose ; and to save these noble mendicants
from dying from hunger, it was necessary to obtain
help from all quarters. Communism had created at
Jerusalem an irremediable poverty and a total incapac
ity for great enterprises. The church at Antioch was
exempt from such a calamity. The Jews in these
profane cities had attained to affluence, and in some
cases had accumulated vast fortunes. The faithful
were wealthy when they entered the church. Antioch
furnished the capital for the founding of Christianity,
and it is easy to imagine the total difference in manner
and spirit which this circumstance alone would create
between the two churches. Jerusalem remained the
city of the poor of God, of the ebionim, of those simple
Galilean dreamers, intoxicated, as it were, with the
expectation of the kingdom of Heaven. Antioch,
almost a stranger to the words of Jesus, whom it had
never heard, was the church of action and of progress.

o

130 THE APOSTLES.

Antioch was the city of Paul ; Jerusalem was the seat
of the old apostolic college, wrapped up in its dreamy
fantasies, and unequal to the new problems which were
opening, but dazzled by its incomparable privileges,
and rich in its unsurpassed events.

A certain circumstance soon brought all these traits
into bold relief. So great was the lack of forethought
in this half-starved Church of Jerusalem, that the least
accident threw the community into distress. Now, in
a country destitute of economic organization, where
commerce was but little developed, and where the
sources of welfare were limited, famines were inevitable.
A terrible famine occurred in the reign of Claudius, in
the year 44. When its threatening symptoms became
apparent, the elders of Jerusalem decided to seek
succour from the members of the richer churches of
Syria. An embassy of prophets was sent from Jerusa
lem to Antioch. One of them, named Agab, who was
in high repute for his prophetic powers, was suddenly
inspired, and announced that the famine was now at
hand. The faithful were deeply moved at the evils
which menanced the mother Church, to which they still
deemed themselves tributary. A collection was made,
at which every one gave according to his means, and
Barnabas was selected to carry the funds thus obtained
to the brethren in Judea. Jerusalem for a long
time remained the capital of Christianity. There
were centred the objects peculiar to the faith,
and there only were the apostles." But a great
forward step had been taken. For several years there
had been only one completely organised Church, that
of Jerusalem — the absolute centre of the faith, the
heart from which all life proceeded and to wrhich it
flowed back again ; such was no longer the case. The
Church at Antioch was now a perfect Church. It
possessed all the hierarchy of the gifts of the Holy
Ghost. It was the starting-point of the missions, and
their head-quarters. It was a second capital, or rather

THE APOSTLES. 131

a second heart, which had its own proper action, exer
cising its force and influence in every direction.

It was now easy to forsee that the second capital
must soon eclipse the first. The decay of the Church at
Jerusalem was, indeed, rapid. It is natural that institu
tions founded on communism should enjoy at the begin
ning a period of brilliancy, for communism involves
always high mental exaltation; but it is equally natural
that such institutions should very quickly degenerate,
because communism is contrary to the instincts of human
nature. In his virtuous fits, man readily believes that
he can entirely sacrifice his selfish instincts and his
peculiar interests ; but egotism has its revenge, by prov
ing that absolute disinterestedness engenders evils more
serious than those it is hoped to avoid by the renunciation
of personal rights to property.

CHAPTER XIV.

PERSECUTION BY HEROD AGRIPPA THE FIRST,

BARNABAS found the church of Jerusalem in great
trouble. The year 44 was perilous to it. Besides the
famine, the fires of persecution, which had been smothered
since the death of Stephen, were rekindled.

Herod Agrippa, grandson of Herod the Great, had
succeeded, since the year 41, in reconstructing the king
dom of his grandfather. Thanks to the favour of Cali
gula, he had reunited under his sway Batanea, Trachonitis
a part of the Hauran, Abilene, Galilee, and the Perea.
The ignoble part he played in the tragi-comedy which
raised Claudius to the empire, completed his fortune. This
vile Oriental, in return for the lessons of baseness and

131 THE APOSTLES.

perfidy he had given at Rome, obtained for himself
Samaria and Judea, and for his brother Herod, the king
dom of Chalcis. He had left at Rome the worst
memories, and the cruelties of Caligula were in part
attributed to his counsels. His army, and the Pagan
cities of Sebaste and Cesarea, which he sacrificed to Jeru
salem, were averse to him. But the Jews found him
generous, munificient, and sympathetic. He sought to
make himself popular with them, and pursued a policy
quite different from that of Herod the Great. The latter
was much more mindful of the Greek and Roman world
than of the Jewish. Herod Agrippa, on the contrary,
loved Jerusalem, rigorously observed the Jewish religion,
affected scrupulousness, and never let a day pass with
out attending to his devotions. He went so far as to
receive good naturedly the advice of the rigorists, and
was at the pains to justify himself against their reproaches.
He returned to the inhabitants of Jerusalem the tribute
which each family owed him. The orthodox, in a word
had in him a king after their own heart.

It was inevitable that a prince of this character
should persecute the Christians. Sincere or not, Herod
Agrippa was, in the strictest sense of the word, a Jewish
Sovereign. The house of Herod, as it became weaker,
took to devotion. It held no longer to that broad profane
idea of the founder of the dynasty, which sought to make
the most diverse religions live together under the common
empire of civilization. When Herod Agrippa, for the
first time after he had become king, set foot in Alexandria,
it was as a King of the Jews that he was received : it
was this title which irritated the population and gave
rise to endless buffooneries. Now what was a King of
the Jews, if he did not become the guardians of the laws
and the traditions, a sovereign theocrat and persecutor ?
From the time of Herod the Great, under whom fanati
cism was entirely suppressed, until the breaking out of the
war which led to the destruction of Jerusalem there was
thus a constantly increasing process of religious ardour.

THE APOSTLES. 133

The death of Caligula (24th Jan., 41) had produced a
reaction favourable to the Jews. Claudius was generally
benevolent towards them, as a result of the favourable
ear he lent to Herod Agrippa and Herod King of Chalcis.
Not only did he decide in favour of the Jews of Alex
andria in their quarrels with the inhabitants and allow
them the right of choosing anethnarch, but he published,
it is said, an edict by which he granted to the Jews,
throughout the whole empire, that which he had granted
to those of Alexandria ; that is to say, the freedom of
living according to their own laws, on the sole condition
of not abusing other worships. Some attempts at
vexations, analagous to those which were inflicted under
Caligula,were repressed. Jerusalem was greatly enlarged :
the suburb of Bezetha was added to the city. The Roman
authority scarcely made itself felt, although Vibius
Marsus, a prudent man, of wide public experience, and
of a very cultivated mind, who had succeeded Publius
Petronius in the function of imperial legate of Syria,
drew the attention of the authorities at Rome from time
to time to the danger of these semi-independent Eastern
Kingdoms.

The species of feudality which, since the death of
Tiberius, tended to establish itself in Syria and the
neighbouring countries, was in fact an interruption in
the imperial policy and had almost uniformly injurious
results. The " Kings " coming to Rome were great
personages, and exercised there a detestable influence.
The corruption and abasement of the people, especially
under Caligula, proceeded in great part from the
spectacle furnished by these wretches, who were seen
successively dragging their purple at the theatre, at the
palace of the Caesar, and in the prisons. So far as con
cerns the Jews, we have seen that autonomy meant
intolerance. The Sovereign Pontificate quitted for a
moment the family of Hanan, only to enter that of
Boethus, a family no less haughty and cruel. A
sovereign anxious to please the Jews could not fail, but

134 THE APOSTLES.

to grant them what they most desired ; that is to say,
severities against everything which diverged from
rigorous orthodoxy.

Herod Agrippa, in fact, became towards the end of
his reign a violent persecutor. Some time before the
Passover of the year 44, he cut off the head of one of the
principal members of the apostolical college, James, son
of Zebedee, brother of John. The offence was not re
presented as a religious one ; there was no inquisitorial
trial before the Sanhedrim : the sentence, as in the case
of John the Baptist, was pronounced by virture of the
arbitrary power of the sovereign. Encouraged by the
good effect which this execution produced upon the Jews,
Herod Agrippa was unwilling to stop upon so easy a
road to popularity. It was the first days of the Feast
of the Passover, which were ordinarily marked by
redoubled fanaticism. Agrippa ordered the imprison
ment of Peter in the Tower of Antonia, and sought to
have him judged and put to death in the most ostenta
tions manner before the multitude of people then
assembled.

A circumstance with which we are unacquainted, and
which was regarded as miraculous, opened Peter's
prison. One evening, as many of the disciples were
assembled in the house of Mary, mother of John-Mark,
where Peter constantly resided, there was suddenly a
knock heard at the door. The servant, named Rhoda,
went to listen. She recognised Peter's voice. Trans
ported with delight, instead of opening the door she ran
back to announce that Peter was there. They regarded
her as mad. She avowed she spoke the truth. " It is his
angel," said some of them. The knocking was continued ;
it was indeed he. Their delight was infinite. Peter
immediately announced his deliverance to James, brother
of the Lord, and to the other disciples. It was believed
that the angel of God had entered into the prison of the
apostle and made the chains drop from his hands, and the
bolts of the doors fall. Peter related, in fact, all that

THE APOSTLES. 135

had passed while he was in a sort of ecstasy ; that after
he had passed the first and second guard, and gone •
through the iron gate which led into the city, the angel
accompanied him the distance of a street, then quitted
him ; that then he came to himself and recognized the
hand of God, who had sent a celestial messenger to
deliver him.

Agrippa survived these violences but a short time. In
the course of the year 44, he went to Cesarea to cele
brate games in honour of Claudius. The concourse of
people was very great ; and many from Tyre and Sidon,
who had difficulties with him, came thither to sue for
pardon. These festivals were very displeasing to the
Jews, both because they took place in the city of Caesarea,
and because they were held in the theatre. Previously,
on one occasion, the king having quitted Jerusalem
under similar circumstances, a certain rabbi Simeon
had proposed to declare him an alien to Judaism, and to
exclude him from the temple. Herod Agrippa had
carried his condescension so far as to place the rabbi
beside him in the theatre in order to prove to him that
nothing passed there contrary to the law, and thinking
he had thus satisfied the most austere, he allowed himself
to indulge his taste for profane pomps. The second day
of the festival he entered the theatre very early in the
morning, clothed in a tunic of silver fabric, of marvellous
brillancy. The effect of this tunic, glittering in the
rays of the rising sun, was extraordinary. f The
Phoenicians who surrounded the king lavished upon
him adulations borrowed from Paganism. " It is a god,"
they cried, " and not a man." The king did not testify
his indignation, and did not blame this expression. He
died five days afterwards ; and Jews and Christians
believed that he was struck dead for not having repelled
with horror a blasphemous flattery. Christian tradition
represents that he died of a vermicular malady, the
punishment reserved for the enemies of God. The
symptons related by Josephus would lead rather to the

136 THE APOSTLES.

belief that he was poisoned ; and what is said in the
Acts of the equivocal conduct of the Phoenicians, and
of the care they took to gain over Blastus, valet of the
king, would strengthen this hypothesis.

The death of Herod Agrippa I. led to the end of all
independence for Jerusalem. The administration by pro
curators was resumed, and this regime lasted until the
great revolt. This was fortunate for Christianity ; for
it is very remarkable that this religion, which was des
tined to sustain subsequently so terrible a struggle
against the Roman empire, grew up in the shadow of
the Roman rule, under its protection. It was Rome, as
we have already several times remarked, which hindered
Judaism from giving itself up fully to its intolerant in
stincts, and stifling the free instincts which were stirred
within its bosom. Every diminution of Jewish authority
was a benefit to the nascent sect. Cuspius JFadus, the
first of this new series of procurators, was another
Pilate, full of firmness, or at least of good-will. But
Claudius continued to show himself favourable to Jewish
pretensions, chiefly at the instigation of the young
Herod Agrippa, son of Herod Agrippa I., whom he kept
near to his person, and whom he greatly loved. After
the short administration of Cuspius Fadus, we find the
functions of procurator confided to a Jew, to that
Tiberius Alexander, nephew of Philo, and son of the
alabarque of the Alexandrian Jews who attained to
high position, and played a great part in the political
affairs of that century. It is true that the Jews did not
like him ; and regarded him, not without reason, as an
apostate.

To put an end to these incessantly renewed disputes,
recourse was had to an expedient based on sound
principles. A sort of separation was made between the
spiritual and temporal. The political power remained
with the procurators ; but Herod, king of Chalcis,
brother of Agrippa I., was named prefect of the temple,
guardian of the pontifical habits, treasurer of the sacred

THE APOSTLES. 137

fund, and invested with the right of nominating the
high-priests. At his death, in 48, Herod Agrippa II.,
son of Herod Agrippa I., succeeded his uncle in his
offices, which he retained until the great war. Claudius,
in all this, manifested the greatest kindness. The high
Roman functionaries in Syria, although not so strongly
disposed as the emperor to concessions, acted also with
great moderation. The procurator, Ventidius Cumanus,
carried condescension so far as to have a soldier be
headed in the midst of the Jews, drawn up in line, for
having torn a copy of the Pentateuch. But all was in
vain ; Josephus, with good reason, dates from the ad
ministration of Cumanus the disorders which ended
only with the destruction of Jerusalem.

Christianity took no part in these troubles. But these
troubles, like Christianity itself, were one of the symp
toms of the extraordinary fever which devoured the
Jewish people, and the Divine work which was being
accomplished in its midst. Never had the Jewish faith
made such progress. The temple of Jerusalem was one
of the sanctuaries of the world, the reputation of which
was most widely extended, and in which the offerings
were the most liberal Judaism had become the domi
nant religion of several portions of Syria. The As-
monean princes had forcibly converted entire popula
tions to it (Idumeans, Itureans, &c.). There were many
instances of circumcision having been imposed by force ;
the ardour for making proselytes was very great. Even
the house of Herod aided powerfully the Jewish propa
ganda. In order to marry princesses of this family,
whose wealth was immense, the princes of the little
dynasties of Emese, of Pontus, and of Cilicia, vassals of
the Romans, became Jews. Arabia and Ethiopia con
tained also a great number of converts. The royal
families of Mesene and of Adiabene, tributaries of the
Parthians, were gained over, especially by their women.
It was generally admitted that happiness was found in
the knowledge and practice of the Law. Even when

138 THE APOSTLES.

circumcision was not practised, religion was more or less
modified in the direction of Judaism ; a sort of mon-
ptheism was becoming the general spirit of religion in
Syria. At Damascus, a city which was in nowise of
Israelitish origin, nearly all the women had adopted the
Jewish religion. Behind the Pharisaical Judaism there
was thus formed a sort of liberal Judaism containing
some alloy, which did not know all the secrets of the
sect, brought only its goodwill and kind heart, but
which had a much greater future. The situation was,
in some respects similar to that of Catholicism of to
day, where we see, on the one hand, narrow and
haughty theologians, who, of themselves, would gain
no more souls for Catholicism than the Pharisees gained
for Judaism ; on the other, pious laymen, in many in
stances heretics, without knowing it, but full of a
touching zeal, rich in good works and in poetic senti
ments, wholly occupied in dissimulating or in repairing
by complaisant excuses the faults of their doctors.

One of the most extraordinary examples of this pen
chant of religious souls towards Judaism was that
given by the royal family of Adiabene, upon the Tiger.
This house, Persian by origin and in manners, and in a
measure acquainted with Greek culture, became wholly
Jewish, and affected extreme devotion ; for, as we have
said, those proselytes were often more pious than Jews
by birth. Izate, the head of the family, embraced
Judaism through the preaching of a Jewish merchant
named Ananias; who, having occasion to enter the
seraglio of Abennerig, King of Mesene, to prosecute his
pedlar business, had succeeded in converting all the
women, and constituted himself their spiritual preceptor.
The women put Izate into communication with him.
Helen, his mother, had herself instructed in the true
religion by another Jew. i Izate, with the zeal of a new
convert, desired forthwith to be circumcised. But his
mother and Ananias earnestly dissuaded him against
it. Ananias proved to him that the keeping of

tHE APOSTLES. 139

the commandments of God was more important than
circumcision, and that one could be a good Jew without
submitting to that ceremony. Tolerance such as this
existed only in the case of a few of the more enlight
ened minds. Some time after, a Galilean Jew, named
Eleazar, finding the King one day engaged in reading
the Pentateuch, proved to him from texts that he
could not observe the law without being circumcised.
Izate was persuaded by him, and underwent the opera
tion immediately.

The conversion of Izate was followed by that of his
brother Monobaze and almost the whole of his family.
About the year 44, Helen established herself at
Jerusalem, where she had erected for the royal house
of Adiabene a palace and a family mausoleum, which
still exists. She made herself to be beloved of the
Jews by her affability and her alms. It was a source
of great edification to see her, like a devout Jewess,
frequenting the Temple, consulting the doctors, reading
the Law, and instructing her sons in it. In the plague
of the year 44, this holy woman was a god-send to the
city. She bought a large quantity of wheat in Egypt,
an 1 dried figs in Cyprus. Izate, on his part, sent con
siderable sums to be distributed amongst the poor.
The wealth of Adiabene was expended in part at
Jerusalem. The son of Izate came there to learn
the usages and the language of the Jews. The whole
of this family was thus the resource of the city of
mendicants. It acquired there a sort of citizenship ;
several of its members were found there at the time of
the siege of Titus ; others figure in the Talmudic
writings, and are represented as models of piety and
disinterestedness.

It is in this way that the royal family of Adiabene
belongs to the history of Christianity. Without in
fact being Christian, as certain traditions would have
it, this family represented, under various aspects, the
promises of the Gentiles. In embracing Judaism, it

140 fHE APOSTLES.

obeyed a sentiment which was to eventuate in
Christianizing the entire Pagan world. The true
Israelites, according to God, were rather those
foreigners animated by so profoundly sincere a religious
sentiment than the malevolent and roguish Pharisee,
to whom religion was but a pretext for hatred and
disdain. These good proselytes, although they were
truly saints, were by no means fanatics. They
admitted that true religion could be practised under
the empire of a code of civil laws the most unduly
adverse. They separated completely religion from
politics. The distinction between the seditious
sectaries, who were savagely to defend Jerusalem, and
the pacific devotees who on the first rumour of war
were going to flee to the mountains, became more and
more manifest.

We see at least that the question of proselytes was
put forward in a similar manner, both in Judaism and in
Christianity. On both hands the necessity for
enlarging the door of entrance was felt. For those
who were thus situated, circumcision was a useless or
noxious practice ; the Mosaic rite was simply a sign of
race, of no value except for the children of Abraham.
Before becoming the universal religion, Judaism was
compelled to reduce itself to a sort of deism, imposing
only the duties of natural religion. There was thus a
sublime mission to fulfil, and a part of Judaism in the
first half of the first century lent itself to it in a
very intelligent manner. On one side, Judaism was
one of the innumerable forms of natural worship which
filled the world, and the sanctity of which came only
from what its ancestors had worshipped ; on the other,
Judaism was the absolute religion made for all and
destined to be adopted by all. The frightful outbreak
of fanaticism which gained the upper hand in Judea,
and which brought about the war of extermination, cut
short that future. It was Christianity which under
took the work which the Synagogue had not known

THE APOSTLES. 141

how to accomplish. Leaving on one side all questions
of ritual, Christianity continued the monotheistic
propaganda of Judaism. That whicli made up the
strength of Judaism amongst the women of Damascus ;
in the harem of Abennerig, with Helen, with so many
pious proselytes, composed the force of Christianity in
the entire world. In this sense the glory of Chris
tianity is really confounded with that of Judaism. A
generation of fanatics deprived this last of its reward
and prevented it from gathering the harvest which iJ
had sown.

CHAPTER XV.

MOVEMENTS PARALLEL TO CHRISTIANITY OR
FROM IT — SIMON OF GITTON.

CHRISTIANITY was now really established. In the his*
tory of religions it is always the first years which are most
difficult to traverse. When once a faith has borne up
against the hard trials, which every new institution has
to endure, its future is assured. More clever than the
other sectaries of the same date, Epenians, Baptists,
partizans of John the Gaulonite, which simply came out
of the Jewish world, and perished with it, the founders
of Christianity, with a singular clearness of sight, cast
themselves very arly into the great world, and took
their place in i\ * The scantiness of the references to
the Christians, whioh are to be found in Josephus, in
the Talmud, and in the Greek and Latin writers, ought
not to be surprising. Josephus has reached us through
Christian copyists, who have suppressed all that was

142 THE APOSTLES.

disagreeable to their faith. It is easy to believe that he
spoke at greater length of Jesus and of the Christians
than he does in the version which has come down to us.
The Talmud has in the same way undergone in the
Middle Ages many retrenchments and alterations since
its first publication. The Christian censure was exercised
with severity upon its text, and a host of unhappy Jews
were burned for having been found in possession of a book
containing passages which were considered blasphemous.
It is not astonishing that the Greek and Latin writers
occupied themselves but little with a movement which
they could not understand, and which took place in a
world which was closed to them, Christianity in their
eyes lost itself in the depths of Judaism ; it was a family
quarrel in the bosom of an abject race ; what was the
use of troubling about it ? The two or three passages
in which Tacitus or Suetonius speaks of the Christians
prove that, in spite of being outside the circle of every
day affairs, the new sect was already a very considerable
fact, since, from one or two glimpses, we see it across
the cloud of general inattention^ picture itself with suf
ficient clearness.

The circumstance that Christianity was not an iso
lated movement has contributed not a little towards the
effacement of its oulines in the history of the Jewish
world in the first century of our era. Philo, at the
moment at which we have arrived, has finished his
career — a career consecrated to the love of the good. The
sect of Judas, the Gaulonite, still existed. The agitator
had for continuers of his idea, his sons James, Simon,
and Menahem. Simon and James were crucified by
order of the renegade procurator, Tiberius Alexander.
Menahem will play an important part in the final cata
strophe of the nation. In the year 44 an enthusiast,
named Theudas, arose announcing the approaching de
liverance, and invited the mob to follow him into the
desert, promising, like another Joshua, to make them
pass dryshod over Jordan, this passage being, according

THE APOSTLES. 143

to his explanation, the true baptism to initiate his be
lievers into the Kingdom of God. More than four hun
dred souls followed him. (Acts v., 36.) The procurator
Cuspius Fadius, sent cavalry against him, dispersed his
force, and killed him. Some years earlier all Samaria
had been moved by the voice of a fanatic, who pretended
to have had a revelation of the site of Garizim, where
Moses had hidden the holy instruments of worship.
Pilate had repressed this movement with great vigour.
Peace was at an end in Jerusalem. After the arrival of
the procurator Vontidius Cumanus (48), disturbances
were incessant. Excitement was pushed to such a
point that life there became impossible ; the most in
significant circumstances brought about an explosion.
Everywhere was felt a strange fermentation, a sort of
mysterious trouble. Imposters multiplied everywhere.
The frightful scourge of the zealots (Kenaim), or
assassins, began to appear. Scoundrels, armed with
daggers, glided into the crowds, struck their victims,
and were the first to shriek " Murder." Hardly a day
passed without the report of an assassination of this
kind. An extraordinary terror prevailed. Josephus
represents the crimes of the zealots as sheer wickedness,
but it is indubitable that fanaticism mixed itself with
them. It was in defence of the Law that these
wretches took up the dagger. Whoever neglected to
fulfil one of its ordinances, found his sentence pro
nounced, and immediately executed. They thought in
this way to accomplish a work, the most meritorious
and agreeable to God.

Dreams like that of Theudas were everywhere re
newed. Persons, pretending to be inspired, stirred up
the people, and led them out into the desert, under pre
tence of showing to them, by manifest signs that God
was about to deliver them. The Roman authorities
exterminated these agitators and their dupes by thou
sands. A Jew of Egypt, who came to Jerusalem about
the year 56, was skilful enough to draw after him 30,000

144 THE APOSTLES.

persons, amongst whom were 4,000 zealots. From
the desert he wished to take them to Mount Olivet,
whence, he said, they might see the walls of Jerusalem
fall at the sound of his voice alone. Felix, who was
then procurator, marched against him, and dispersed
his band. The Egyptian escaped, and was seen no
more. But as in an unhealthy body one malady follows
another, we very soon afterwards come upon mixed
bodies of robbers and magicians, who openly urged the
people to rebel against the Romans, threatening those
who continued to obey them with death. Under this
pretext they killed the rich, pillaged their goods, burned
the villages, and filled all Jewry with marks of their
fury. A frightful war announced itself. A general
spirit of confusion prevailed, and men's minds were in a
state not far removed from madness.

It is not impossible that Theudas had a certain after
thought of imitation, as regards Jesus and John the
Baptist. This imitation, at least, is evidently betrayed
in Simon of Gitton, if the Christian traditions as to this
personage, are in anyway worthy of credence. We have
already met him in connexion with the Apostles apro
pos of the first mission of Philip to Samaria. It was
under the reign of Claudius that he arrived at celebrity.
His miracles passed as constant, and everybody in
Samaria looked upon him as a supernatural personage.

His miracles, however, were not the only foundation
of his reputation. He added to them a doctrine which
we can hardly judge .of, since the work attributed to
him, and entitled the Great Exposition, has reached
us only by extracts, and is probably only a very modi
fied expression of his ideas. Simon, during his stay in
Alexandria, appears to have drawn from his studies of
Greek philosophy, a system of syncretic philosophy, and
of allegorical exegesis, resembling that of Philo. The
system had its greatness. Sometimes it recalls the
Jewish Cabala, sometimes the Pantheistic theories of
Indian philosophy ; looked at from a certain standpoint

145

it appears to bear the impress of Buddhism and Parsee-
ism, At the head of all things is " He who is, who has
been, and who will be " ; that is to say, the Samaritan
Jahveh, understood, according to the etymological value
of his name. The Eternal Being, alone, self-engendered,
increasing himself, magnifying himself, finding in him
self father, mother, sister, wife, and son. In the breast
of that infinite being, every power exists from and to
eternity ; all things pass into action and reality by the
conscience of man, by reason, language, and science.
The world explains itself, it may be by a hierarchy of
abstract principles, analogous to the ^Eons of gnosticism
and the sephirotic tree of the Cabala, or by an angelic
system, which appears to have been borrowed from the
beliefs of Persia. Sometimes these abstractions are
presented as translations of physical and physiological
facts. At other times the " Divine powers," considered
as separate substances, are realized as successive incar
nations, sometimes feminine, sometimes masculine,
whose end is the deliverance of the persons concerned
from the bondage of matter. The first of these powers
is that which is called, by way of especial distinction,
" the Great," and which is the intelligence of this
world, the universal Providence. It is masculine, and
Simon passed as being its incarnation. By its side is
the feminine Syzygy, " the Great Thought." Accus
tomed to clothe its theories with a strange symbolism,
and to imagine allegorical interpretations for the
ancient, sacred, and profane texts, Simon, or the author
of the Great Exposition, gave to that Divine virtue the
name of " Helen," signifying thereby that it was the
object of universal pursuit, the eternal cause of dispute
amongst men, she who avenges herself on her enemies
by blinding them, just at the moment when they con
sent to sing the Palinode ; a grotesque theme which,
ill-understood or distorted by design, gave rise amongst
the Fathers of the Church to the most puerile legends.
The knowledge of Greek literature which the author of

146 THE APOSTLES.

the Great Exposition possessed, is in any case very re
markable. He maintained that, when properly under
stood, the Pagan writings sufficed for the knowledge of
all things. His large eclecticism embraced all the re
velations, and sought to establish all truth in a single
order.

At the basis of his system there is much analogy with
that of Valentin, and with the doctrines as to the
Divine persons which are found in the fourth Gospel,
in Philo and on the Targums. The " Metatrone,"
which the Jews placed by the side of the Divinity, and
almost in its breast, has a strong resemblance to the
" Great Power." In the theology of the Samaritans
may be found a " Great Angel," chief of the others, and
of the class of manifestations or " divine virtues," like
those which the Jewish Cabala figures on its side. It
appears certain then that Simon, of Gitton, was a kind
of theosophist of the race of Philo and the Cabalists.
It is possible that he approached Christianity for the
moment, but he certainly did not definitely embrace it.

Whether he really borrowed something from the
disciples of Jesus is very difficult to decide. If the
Great Exposition is his in any degree, it must be ad
mitted that in many points he went beyond Christian
ideas, and that upon others he adopted them very freely.
It would seem that he attempted eclecticism like that
which Mahomet practised later on, and that he endea
voured to found his religious character upon the prelimi
nary acceptance of the divine mission of John and of
Jesus. He wanted to be in a mystical communion with
them. He saaintained, it is said, that it was he, Simon,
who appeared to the Samaritans as Father, to the Jews
the visible crucifixion of the Son, to the Gentiles, by
the infusion of the Holy Ghost. He thus prepared the
way, it would seem, for the doctrines of the docetes. He
8aid that it was he who had suffered in Judea in the
person of Jesus, but that that suffering had only been
apparent. His pretension to be the Divinity itself, and

THE APOSTLES. 14?

to cause himself to be adored as such had probably been
exaggerated by the Christians who sought only to render
him hateful.

It will be seen besides that the doctrine of the Great
Exposition is that of almost all the Gnostic writers ; if
Simon really professed the doctrines, it was with good
reason that the fathers of the Church made him the
founder of Gnosticism. We believe that the Great Exposi
tion has only a relative authenticity, and that it really
is to the doctrine of Simon — to compare small thing?
with great — what the Fourth Gospel is to the mind of
Jesus ; that it goes back to the first years of the second
century, that is to say, to the period when the theosophic
ideas of the Logos definitely gained the ascendency.
These ideas, the germ of which we shall find in the
Christian Church about the year 60, might however
have been known to Simon, whose career we may reason
ably extend to the end of the century.

The idea which we form to ourselves of this enig
matical personage is then that of a kind of plagiarist
of Christianity. Counterfeiting appears to have been a
constant habit amongst the Samaritans. Just as they
had always imitated the Judaism of Jerusalem, their
sectaries had also copied Christianity in their ways,
their gnoxis, their theosophic speculations, their Cabala.
But was Simon a respectable imitator, who only failed
of success, or an immoral and profligate conjuror using
for his own advantage a doctrine of shreds and patches
picked up here and there ? This is a question which will
probably never be answered. Simon thus maintains in
history an utterly false position ; he walks upon a
light rope where hesitation is impossible ; in this order,
there is no middle path between a ridiculous fall and
the most miraculous success.

We shall again have to occupy ourselves with Simon,
and to enquire if the legends as to his stay in Rome are
in any way founded on truth. It is certain that the
Samarian sect lasted until the third century; that it had

148 THE APOSTLES.

churches at Antioch, perhaps even at Home, that Men*
anda, and Capharatea, and Cleobius, continued the
doctrine of Simon, or rather imitated his part of
theurgist with a more or less present remembrance of
Jesus and of his apostles. Simon and his disciples
were greatly esteemed amongst their co-religionists.
Sects of the same time, parallel to Christianity and
more or less borrowed from Gnosticism, did not cease to
spring up amongst the Samaritans until their quasi de
struction by Justinian. The fate of that sort of little
religion was to receive the rebound of everything that
went on around it, without producing anything at all
original.

Amongst the Christians, the memory of Simon of
Gitton was an abomination. These illusions, which were
so much like their own, irritated them. To have success
fully rivalled the apostles was unpardonable. It was
asserted that the miracles of Simon and of his disciples
were the work of the devil, and they applied to the
Samaritan theosophist the title of the " Magician," which
the faithful took in very bad part. All the Christian
legends of Simon bear the marks of a concentrated
wrath. He was credited with the maxims of quietisms,
and with the excess which are usually supposed to be its
consequence. He was considered to be the father of every
error, the first heresiarch. Christians amused themselves
by telling laughable stories of him and of his defeats by
the apostle Peter. They attributed his approach towards
Christianity to the vilest of motives. They were so
preoccupied with his name that they fancied they read
it in inscriptions which he had not written. The sym
bolism in which he had enveloped his ideas was inter
preted in the most grotesque fashion. The " Helen,"
whom he identified with the " Highest Intelligence,"
became a prostitute whom he had bought in the market
at Tyre. His very name was hated almost as much as
that of Judas, and, taken as synonym of " anti-apostle,**
became the last insult and as it were a proverbial word

THE APOSTLES. 149

to describe a professional impostor, an adversary of the
the truth whom it was desirable to indicate with mystery.
He was the first enemy of Christianity, or rather the
first personage whom Christianity treated as such. It is
enough to say that neither pious frauds nor calumnies
were spared to defame it. Criticism in such a case wiVi
hardly attempt a rehabilitation, the contradictory docu-
ments'are wanting. All that can be done is to point out
the similarity of the traditions, and the determined
disparagement which is to be remarked in them.

But criticism, at least, should not forget to mention
in connexion with the Samaritan theurgist a coincidence
which is perhaps not altogether fortuitous. In a story of
the historian Josephus, a Jewish magician named Simon,
born in Cyprus, plays the part of pander to Felix. The
circumstances of this tale do not fit in with those of
Simon of Gitton well enough for him to be made
responsible for the acts of a person who could have
nothing in common with him, but a name then borne
by thousands of men, and a pretension to supernatural
powers, which he unhappily shared with a host of his
contemporaries.

CHAPTER XVI.

GENERAL PROGRESS OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS.

WE have seen Barnabas depart from Antioch to carry
to the faithful of Jerusalem the alms of their brethren
in Syria. We have seen him share in some of the
emotions which the persecutions of Herod Agrippa I.
caused the Church at Jerusalem. Let us return with
him to Antioch where all the creative activity of the
sect appears at that moment to have been concen
trated.

150 THE APOSTLES.

Barnabas brought with him a zealous collaborator,
his cousin John -Mark, the favourite disciple of Peter,
and the son of that Mary with whjm the first of the
apostles loved to dwell. Without doubt in taking with
him this new co-operator, he was already thinking of
the new enterprise with which he intended to associate
him. Perhaps he even foresaw the divisions which that
new enterprise would raise up, and was by no means
unwilling to mix up with them a man whom he knew to
be Peter's right hand, that is to say, the right hand of
that one of the apostles who had the greatest authority
in general matters.

This enterprise was nothing less than a series of
great missions, starting from Antioch and having for
programme the conversion of the whole world. Like
all resolutions taken by the Church, this was attributed
to the direct inspiration of the Holy Ghost. A special
vocation, a supernatural choice, was believed to have
been communicated to the Church of Antioch whilst
she was fasting and praying. Perhaps one of the
prophets of the Church, Menaham or Lucius, in one of
his fits of speaking with tongues, uttered words from
which it was concluded that Paul and Barnabas had
been selected for this mission. Paul himself was con
vinced that God had chosen him from his mother's
womb for the work to which he was henceforward
wholly to devote himself.

The two apostles took as coadjutor, under the name
of subordinate, to attend to the material cares of their
enterprise, this John-Mark, whom Barnabas had brought
with him from Jerusalem. When the preparations
were finished there were fastings and prayer ; it is said
that hands were laid upon the apostles, in sign of a
mission conferred by the Church herself; they were
commended to the grace of God and they departed.
Whither would they go ? What world would they
evangelize ? That_is what we have now to inquire.

AU the great primitive Christian missions turned

THE APOSTLES, 151

towards the West, or in other words, took the Roman
Empire for their stage and framework. If we except
some small portions of territory tributary to the
Arsacides, comprehended between the Tigris and the
Euphrates, the Empire of the Parthians received no
Christian missions in the first century. The Tigris was
on the Eastern side, a boundary which Christianity did
not overpass until under the Sapanides. Two great
causes, the Mediterranean and the Roman Empire,
decided this cardinal fact.

The Mediterranean had been for a thousand years
the great route where all civilization and all ideas
intermingled. The Romans, having delivered it from
piracy, had made it an unequalled means of communi
cation. A numerous fleet of coasters made travelling
on the shores of this great lake very easy. The relative
security which the routes of the Empire afforded, the
guarantees which were found in the public powers, the
diffusions of the Jews on all the coasts of the Mediter
ranean, the use of the Greek language in the Eastern
part of that sea, the unity of civilization which the
Greeks first, and then the Romans had created there,
made the map of the Empire the very map of the
countries reserved for Christian missions, and destined
to become Christian jThe Roman orbis became the
Christian orbis, and in this sense it may be said that
the founders of the Empire were the founders of the
Christian monarchy, or at least, that they sketched its
outlines. Every province conquered by the Roman
Empire has been a province conquered by Christianity.
If we figure to ourselves the apostles in the presence
of an Asia Minor, of a Greece, of an Italy divided into
a hundred petty republics, of a Spain, an Africa, an
Egypt in possession of ancient national institutions, we
cannot imagine them as successful, or rather we cannot
imagine how the project of them could ever have been
conceived. The unity of the Empire was the prelimi
nary condition of every great scheme of religious prose-

152 THE APOSTLES.

lytism setting itself above nationalities. The Empire
felt it strongly in the fourth century. It became
Christian; it saw that Christianity was the religion
which it had made without knowing it, the religion
bounded by its frontiers, identified with it, and capable
of securing for it a second term of life. The Church
on her side made herself altogether Roman, and has
remained to our days as a relic of the Empire. Paul
might have been told that Claudius was his first coad
jutor; Claudius might have been told that this Jew,
who set out from Antioch, was about to found the most
solid part of the Imperial edifice. Both would no doubt
have been infinitely astonished, but the saying would
have been true all the same.

Of all the countries outside Judea, the first in which
Christianity established itself was naturally Syria. The
neighbourhood of Palestine and the great number of
Jews established in that country rendered such a thing
inevitable. Cyprus, Asia Minor, Macedonia, Greece,
and Italy, were visited by the apostolic messengers
after some years. The south of Gaul, Spain, the coast
of Africa, though they may have been evangelized
sufficiently early, may be considered as forming a more
recent course in the substructure of Christianity.

It was the same in Egypt. Egypt plays scarcely any
part in apostolic history. Christian missionaries ap
pear to have systematically turned their backs upon it.
This country, which from the beginning of the third
century became the scene of such important events in
the history of religion, was at first greatly behind hand
in its Christianity. Apollos is the only Christian
doctor produced by the school of Alexandria, and even
he learned Christianity in his travels. The cause of
this remarkable phenomenon must be sought in the
little communication which then existed between the
Jews of Egypt and those of Palestine, and above all, in
the fact that Jewish Egypt had in some sort its
separate religious development. Egypt had Philo and

THE APOSTLES. 153

the Therapeutics ; that was its Christianity which
deterred it from lending an attentive ear to the other.
Pagan Egypt possessed religious institutions much
more definite than those of Grseo-Roman Paganism;
the Egyptian religion was still in all its strength ; it
was almost at this very time that the great temples oJ
Enoch and of Ombos were built, and that the hope oi
having in the little Csesarion a last king Ptolemy, a
national Messiah, raised from the earth those sanc
tuaries of Dendereh, of Hermonthis, comparable to the
finest Pharaohnic work. Christianity seated itseli
everywhere on the ruius of national sentiment and local
religions. The spiritual degradation of Egypt besides
caused there a variety of aspirations which elsewhere
opened an easy way to Christianity.

A rapid flash, coming out of Syria, illuminating
almost simultaneously the three great peninsulas ef
Asia Minor, Greece, and Italy, and soon followed by a
second reflection which embraced almost all the coasts
of the Mediterranean, such was the first apparition of
Christianity. The journey of the apostolic ship is
almost always the same. Christian preaching appears
to follow almost invariably in the wake of the Jewish
emigration. As an infection which, taking its point of
departure from the bottom of the Mediterranean, ap
pears at the same moment at a certain number of
points on the littoral by a secret correspondence, so
Christianity had its ports of arrival as it were settled
beforehand. These ports were almost all marked by
Jewish colonies. A synagogue preceded in general the
establishment of the Church. One might say a train
of powder, or better still a sort of electric chain along
which the new idea ran in an almost instantaneous
fashion.

For five hundred years, in effect, Judaism, until then
confined to the East and to Egypt, had taken its flight
towards the West. Cyrene, Cyprus, Asia Minor, certain
cities of Macedonia and of Greece and Italy, had

154 THE APOSTLES.

important Jewries. The Jews gave the first example
of that species of patriotism, that the Parsees, the
Armenians, and up to a certain point the modern
Greeks were to exhibit later : a patriotism which was
extremely energetic although not attached to a definite
soil ; a patriotism of merchants scattered everywhere ;
recognizing one another as brothers everywhere ; a
patriotism aiming at the formation not of great com
pact states but of little autonomous communities in the
bosoms of other states. Strongly associated together,
the Jews of the dispersion constituted in the cities,
congregations almost independent having their own
magistrates and their own council. In certain cities
they had an ethnarch or alabarch, invested with almost
sovereign rights. They inhabited separate districts,
withdrawn from the ordinary jurisdiction, much despised
by the rest of the world, but very happy in themselves.
They were rather poor than rich. The time of the
great Jewish fortunes had not yet come ; they began in
Spain under the Visigoths. The monopoly of finance
by the Jews was the effect of the administrative
incapacity of the barbarians, of the hatred which the
Church conceived for monetary science, and its super
ficial ideas on the subject of usury. Under the Roman
Empire there was nothing of this kind. Now when the
Jew is not rich his poor, easy middleclass life is not to
his taste. In any case he well knows how to support
poverty. What he knows even better is how to ally
religious preoccupation of the most exalted kind with
the rarest commercial ability. Theological eccentricites
by no means exclude good sense in business. In
England, in America, in Russia, the most eccentric
sectaries (Irvingites, Latter-day Saints, Raskolniks) are
exceedingly good merchants.

It has always been the peculiarity of the Jewish life,
piously practiced, to produce great gaiety and cordiality.
There was love in that little world ; they love a past,
and the same past ; the religious ceremonies surrounded

THE APOSTLES. 155

life very gently. Something analogous to these com
munities exist to this day in every great Turkish city ;
for example Greek, Armenian, Jewish, Smyrniots,
communities, close brotherhoods in which every mem
ber knows every other, live together and — intrigue
together. In these little republics, religious questions
always prevail over questions of politics, or rather make
up for the want of them,. A heresy is there an affair
of the State ; a schism is always a personal question
at bottom. The Romans, with but few exceptions,
never penetrated these reserved quarters. The syna
gogues promulgated their decrees, decreed honours,
and acted like living municipalities. The influence of
the corporations was very great. At Alexandria it was
of the first order and governed the whole internal his
tory of the city. At Rome the Jews were numerous
and formed an element which was not to be despised.
Cicero represents having dared to resist them as an act
of courage. Caesar favoured them, and found them
faithful. Tiberius, in order to restrain them, resorted
to the severest measures. Caligula, whose reign was a
mournful one for them in the East, gave them their
liberty of association in Rome. Claudius, who favoured
them in Judea, found himself obliged to drive them
out of the city. They were to be met with everywhere,
and it was openly said of them, as of the Greeks, that
though conquered they had imposed their laws upon
their conquerors.

The disposition of the native populations towards
these strangers varied greatly. On the one hand the
sentiment of revulsion and of antipathy, that the Jews
by their spirit of jealous isolation, their rancorous
temper and unsociable habits, produced around them
everywhere where they were numerous and organised,
manifested itself most strongly. When they were free,
they were in reality privileged ; since they enjoyed the
advantages of society without bearing its cost.
Impostors profited by the movement of curiosity which

156 THE APOSTLES.

their worship excited, and under the pretence of ex
posing its secrets delivered themselves to friends^ o/
every kind. Violent and half-burlesque pamphlets like
that of Apion, pamphlets from which profane writers
have too often drawn their inspiration, were circulated
and served as food for the wrath of the Pagan public.
The Jews seem to have been generally niggardly and
given to complaining. They were believed to be a
secret society, bearing no good will to the rest of the
world, whose members advanced themselves at any cost
to the injury of others. Their strange customs, their
aversion to certain meats, their dirtiness, their want of
distinction, the fetid odour which they exhaled, their
religious scruples, their minuteness in the observance
of the Sabbath, were found ridiculous. Placed under
the ban of society, the Jews by a natural consequence,
took no pains to figure as gentle people. They were
met everywhere travelling in clothes shining with filth,
an awkward air, a fatigued demeanour, a pale com
plexion, large diseased eyes, a sanctimonious expression,
shutting themselves apart with their wives, their
children, their bundles of bedding, and the basket
which contained all their goods. In the cities they
carried on the meanest trades ; they were beggars, rag
pickers, dealers in second-hand goods, sellers of tinder
boxes. Their law and their history were unjustly
depreciated. . At one time they were found to be
superstitious and cruel ; at another, atheists and de-
spisers of the gods. Their aversion to images was
looked upon as sheer impiety. Circumcision especi
ally furnished the theme for interminable raillery.

But those superficial judgments were not those of
all. The Jews had as many friends as detractors.
Their gravity, their good morals, the simplicity of their
worship, charmed a crowd of people. Something
superior was felt in them. A vast monotheistic and
Mosaic propaganda was organised ; a sort of singular
whirlwind formed itself around this singular little

THE APOSTLE A IS?

people. The poor Jewish pedlar of the Transtevere,
going out in the morning with his flat basket of haber
dashery, often returned in the evening rich with the
alms of a pious brother. Women were especially
attracted by these missionaries in tatters. Juvenal
reckons this love for the Jewish religion amongst the
vices with which he reproaches the women of his time.
Those who were converted boasted of the treasure
which they had found, and the happiness which they
enjoyed. Only the Greek and the Roman spirit resisted
energetically ; contempt and hatred of the Jews are the
sign of all cultivated minds : Cicero, Horace, Seneca,
Juvenal, Tacitus, Quintilian, Suetonius. On the
contrary that enormous mass of mixed populations
which the empire had subjugated, populations to which
the Roman spirit and the Greek wisdom were foreign
or indifferent, attached themselves in crowds to a
society in which they found touching examples of
concord, of charity, of mutual help, of clannish attach
ment, of a taste for work, of a proud poverty.
Mendicity, which was at a late date an exclusively
Christian business, was then a Jewish trade. The
beggar by trade, " born to it," presented himself to the
poets of the time as a Jew.

The exemption from certain civil charges, particu
larly the military, helped also to cause the fate of the
Jews to be regarded as enviable. The State then
demanded many sacrifices and gave little moral satis
faction. Everything was icily cold as on a flat plain
without shelter. Life, so sad in the midst of Paganism
regained its charm and its value in the warm atmos
phere of synagogue and church. It was not liberty
which was to be found there. The brethren spied
much upon each other, everyone worrying himself about
the affairs of everyone else. But although the interior
life of these little communities was greatly agitated,
they were happy enough ; no one quitted them ; there
were no apostasies. The poor were content in them ;

158 THE APOSTLE&

they regarded the rich without envy, with the tranquility
of a good conscience. The really democratic sentiment
of the folly of the world, of the vanity of riches and of
earthly grandeur finely expressed itself there. Little
was known about the Pagan world and it was judged
with an outrageous severity; Roman civilization was
regarded as a mass of impurities and of odious vices,
just as the honest workman of our own days, saturated
with socialistic declamations, pictures the <: aristocrats "
to himself in the darkest colours. But there was then
life, gaiety and interest just as there is to-day in the
poorest synagogues of Poland and Galicia. The want
of delicacy and of elegance in the habits of the people
was atoned for by the family spirit and patriarchal
good feeling. In high society, on the contrary, egotism
and isolation of soul had borne their last fruits.

The word of Zachariah was verified : that men " shall
take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying
we will go with you, for we perceive that God is with
you." There was no great town where the Sabbath
fasts and other ceremonies of Judaism were not
observed. Josephus dares to provoke those who
doubted it, to consider their country and even their
own house to see if there were not confirmation of
what he said. The presence in Rome and near the
Emperor of many members of the family of the Herods,
who practised their worship ostentatiously in the face
of all, contributed much to this publicity. The Sabbath
besides imposed itself by a sort of necessity in the
quarters where there were Jews. Their obstinate
determination not to open their shops on that day
forced their neighbours to modify their habits. It is
thus that at Salonica one might say that the Sabbath
is still observed, the Jewish population there being rich
enough and numerous enough to make the law and to
order the day of rest by closing its places of business.
Almost the equal of the Jew, often in company with
him, the Syrian was an active instrument in the con-

THE APOSTLES. 159

quest of the "West by the East. They were confounded
occasionally, and Cicero thought he had found the com
mon feature which united them, when he called them
" the nations born for servitude." It was by that, that
their future was assured, for the future was then for
the slaves. A not less essential characteristic of the
Syrian was his facility, his suppleness, the superficial
clearness of his mind. The Syrian nature is like a
fugitive image in the clouds of Heaven. From
time to time we see certain lines traced there with
grace, but those lines never form a complete design.
In the shade, by the undecided light of a lamp, the
Syrian woman under her veil, with her vague eyes and
her infinite softness, produces some instants of illusion.
But when we wish to analyse that beauty it vanishes;
it will not bear examination. All that besides lasts
but three or four years. That which is charming in
the Syrian race is the child of five or six years of age ;
the universe of Greece where the child is nothing, the
young man inferior to the mature man, the mature
man to the old. Syrian intelligence attracts by an air
of promptitude and lightness, but it wants firmness and
solidity ; something like the golden wine of the
Lebanon which is very pleasant at first but of which
one tires very soon. The true gifts of God have in them
something at once fine and strong, something intoxica
ting, yet lasting. Greece is more appreciated to-day
than she has ever been and she will be appreciated
more and more.

Many of the Syrian emigrants whom the desire of
making their fortunes had drawn westwards, were more
or less attached to Judaism. Those who were not, re
mained faithful to the worship of their villages ; that
is to say to the memory of some temple dedicated to a
local " Jupiter," who was usually simply the supreme
being, differentiated by a particular title. It was at
bottom a species of monotheism, which these Syrians
brought under cover of their strange gods. Compared

160 THE APOSTLES.

at least with the profoundly distinct divine personali
ties, which Greek and Roman polytheism offered, the
gods whom they worshipped, for the most part synonyms
of the Sun, were almost the brothers oi the One God.
Like long enervating chants these Syrian rites, might
appear less dry than the Latin worship, less empty than
the Greek. The Syrian women found in them some
thing at once voluptuous and exalted. These women
were at all times eccentric beings, disputing between
the devil and God, floating between saintliness and
demoniacal possession. The saint of serious virtues, of
heroic renunciations, of steadfast resolutions, belongs to
other races, and other climates : the saint of strong
imagination, absolute enthusiasm, of ready love, is the
saint of Syria. The witch of our middle ages is the
slave of Satan by vulgarity or by sin ; the " possessed "
of Syria, is the mad-woman of the ideal world, the
woman whose sentiment has been wounded, who
avenges herself by frenzy or shuts herself up in silence,
who only needs a gentle word or a benignant look to
cure her. Transported to the Western World, these
Syrians acquired influence, sometimes by the evil arts of
woman, more often by a certain moral superiority and a
real capacity. Fifty years later this will be specially
seen, when the most important persons in Rome married
Syrian women, who s immediately acquired a great
ascendency in affairs. The Mussulman woman of our
days, a clamorous, Megaera, stupidly fanatical, scarcely
existing save for evil, almost incapable of virtue, ought
not to make us forget the Julia Domna, the Julia
Msesa, the Julia Maaemsa, the Julia Soemia, who upheld
in Rome in the matter of religion mystical instincts, and
a tolerance, hitherto unknown. ^What is very remark
able, also, is that the Syrian dynasty, conducted by fate,
showed itself favourable to Christianity, that Mamacus,
and later, the Emperor Philippus, the Arabian, passed
for Christians. Christianity in the third and fourth
centuries was especially the religion of Syria. After

THE APOSTLES. 161

Palestine, Syria had the greatest share in its founda
tion.

It was especially at Rome that the Syrian in the first
century exercised his penetrating activity. Charged
with almost all the minor trades, guide, messenger,
letterbearer, the Syrus entered everywhere, introducing
with himself the language and the manners of his
country. He had neither the pride nor the philosophi
cal hauteur of the European. StiH less their bodily
strength : weak of body, pale, often nervous, not know
ing how to eat or to sleep at regular hours after the
fashion of our heavy and solid races, eating little meat,
living upon onions and pumpkins, sleeping but
little and lightly, the Syrian died young, and was
habitually ill. What were peculiar to him, were his
humility, his gentleness, his affability, and a certain good
ness ; no solidity of mind, but an infinite charm ; little
good sense, except in matters of business, but an as
tonishing ardour, and a seductiveness altogether feminine.
The Syrian, having never had any political life, has an
altogether special aptitude for religious movements.
This poor Maronite, humble, ragged as he is, has made
the greatest of revolutions. His ancestor, the Syrus of
Rome, was the most zealous bearer of the good news to
all the afflicted. Every year brought to Greece, to
Italy, to Gaul, colonies of these Syrians, urged by the
natural taste which they had for small business. They
were recognized on the ships by their numerous families,
by their troops of pretty children almost of the same age,
who followed them : the mother, with the childish air
of a little girl of fourteen, holding herself by the side of
her husband, submissive, gently smiling, scarcely bigger
than her elder sons. The heads in these little groups are
not strikingly marked ; there is certainly no Archimedes,
Plato or Phidias amongst them. But the Syrian
merchant arrived in Rome, will be a man, good and
pitiful, charitable to his fellow countrymen, loving the
poor. He will talk with the slaves, revealing to them air

H

162 THE APOSTLES.

asylum, where those unhappy wretches, reduced by
Roman harshness to the most desolating solitude may
find a little consolation. The Greek and Latin races
of masters did not know how to profit by a humble
position. The slave of these races passed his life in
rebellion, and the desire of evil. The ideal slave of an
tiquity has all the defects ; he is gluttonous, a liar,
malicious, the natural enemy of his master. In this
way he proved his nobility in a sort of way ; he pro
tested against an unnatural position. The good Syrian
did not protest ; he accepted his ignominy and sought to
profit by it as much as possible. He conciliated the
good- will of his master, dared to speak to him ; knew
how to please his mistress. This great agent of demo
cracy went thus unpicking, stitch by stitch, the knot of
antique civilization. The old societies founded upon
disdain, upon the inequality of races, upon military
courage, were lost. Weakness and humility were now to
become an advantage for the perfecting of virtue.
Roman aristocracy and Greek wisdom, will keep up the
struggle for three centuries. Tacitus will find it good
that thousands of these unfortunates should be trans
ported : Si internment, vile damnum. The Roman
aristocracy will grow angry, will find it bad that such
scum should have their gods, their institutions. But the
victory is written beforehand. The Syrian, the poor
man who loves his kind, who shares with them, who
associates with them, will win the day. The Roman
aristocracy will perish for want of mercy.

To explain the revolution which is about to be ac
complished, we must take into account the political,
social, moral, intellectual, and religious state of the
countries, where Jewish proselytism had opened the
soil for Christian preaching to fertilize. That study
will show, I hope, convincingly that the conversion of
the world to Jewish and Christian ideas was inevitable,
and will leave room for astonishment, only upon one
point, which is, that conversion should be effected so
slowly cjid so late

THE APOSTLES. 1(JL>

CiIAPTER XVIL

STATE OF THE WORLD AT THE MIDDLE OF THE FIRST
CENTURY.

THE political state of the world was of the saddest
kind. All authority was concentrated at Rome and in
the legions. There occurred the most shameful and de
grading scenes. The Roman aristocracy, which had
conquered the world, and which, in short, had alone
governed under the Caesars, delivered itself up to the
most frightful Saturnalia of crime which the world has
ever seen. Caesar and Augustus, in establishing the
aristocracy, had seen with perfect accuracy the necessi
ties of their times. The world was so low in the politi
cal sense that no other government was possible.
Since Rome had conquered provinces innumerable, the
ancient constitution, founded on the privileges of patri
cian families, a species of obstinate and malevolent
Tories, could not subsist. But Augustus had failed in
all the duties of true policy in that he left the future to
chance. Without regular hereditary succession, with
out fixed rules of adoption, without electoral laws,
without constitutional limitations, Caesarism was like a
colossal weight on the deck of a ship without ballast.
The most terrible shocks were inevitable. Thrice in a
century, under Caligula, under Nero, and under Domi-
tian, the greatest power which had ever existed fell into
the hands o£ execrable or extravagant men. Hence,
horrors, which have scarcely been exceeded by the
monsters of the Mongal dynasties. In that fatal series
of sovereigns we are reduced almost to excusing a
Tiberius, who was absolutely wicked only towards the
close of his life ! a Claudius, who was simply eccentric,

H 2

164 THE APOSTLES.

awkward and surrounded by evil advisers. Eome be
came a school of vice and cruelty. It must be added
that the evil came especially from the East, from those
flatterers of low rank, from these infamous men whom
Egypt and Syria sent to Rome, where profiting by the
oppression of the true Romans, they felt themselves all
powerful with the scoundrels who governed them. The
most shocking ignominies of the Empire, such as the
apotheosis of the Emperor, his deification, when alive,
came trom the East, and especially from Egypt which
was then one of the most corrupt countries in the
universe.

The true Roman spirit, in effect, still survived.
Human nobility was far from being extinct. A great
tradition of pride and of virtue was kept up in some
families, which came to power with Nerva, and made
the splendour of the century of the Antonines of which
Tacitus has been the eloquent interpreter. A time,
which was that of minds so profoundly honest as
Quintilian, Pliny the younger and Tacitus, is not a time
of which we need despair. The disturbance of the
surface did not affect the great basis of honesty and of
seriousness which underlay good society in Rome ; some
families still afforded models of valour, of devotion to
duty, of concord, of solid virtue. There were in the
noble houses admirable wives, admirable sisters. Was
there ever a more touching fate than that of the young
and chaste Octavia, daughter of Claudius, and wife of
Nero, pure amidst so many infamies, killed at twenty-
two years of age, before she had had time to enjoy her
life? The women described in the inscriptions as
Castissimce, univirce are not rare. Wives accom
panied their husbands in exile ; others shared their
noble deaths. The old Roman simplicity was not lost ;
the education of children was grave and careful. The
noblest women laboured with their hands at woolwork ;
the cares of the toilette were almost unknown in good
families.

THE APOSTLES. 165

The excellent statesmen who sprang up under Trajan
were not improvised. They had served under preceding
reigns ; only they had had little influence, cast into the
shade as they were by the freedmen and the basest
favourites of the Emperor. Men of the highest char
acter thus occupied exalted positions under Nero. The
skeleton was good, the accession of the bad Emperors
to power, disastrous though it was, did not suffice to
change the general course of affairs and the principles
of the State. The Empire, far from being in decadence,
was in all the force of the most robust youth. The decad
ence was coming, but that would be two centuries later,
and, strange to say, under the least evil of the sovereigns.
Looked at from the political point of view, the situation
was analogous to that of France, which, for want of an
invariable rule since the Revolution as to the succession
of powers, has gone through the most perilous adven
tures, without its internal organisation and national
force suffering too muck From the moral point of
view we may compare the time of which we speak with
the eighteenth century, an epoch which we might fancy
to be altogether corrupt, if we judged by the memories,
the manuscript literature, the collection of anecdotes of
the times, yet, in which houses maintained a great
severity of morals.

Philosophy had allied itself with the honest Roman
families, and resisted nobly. The Stoic school produced
the great characters of Cremastius Cordus, of Thraseas,
of Arria, of Helvidius Priscus, of Annaeus Cornelius,
of Musonius Rufus —admirable masters of aristocratic
virtue. The stiffness and the exaggerations of this
school, arose from the horrible cruelty of the govern
ment of the Cassars. The perpetual thought of the
good man was how he might best endure tortures and
prepare for death. Lucan, with bad taste, Persius, with
greater talents, expressed the highest sentiments of a
great soul. Seneca the philosopher, Pliny the elder,
Papirius Fabianus, maintained an elevated tradition of

106 THE APOSTLES.

science and philosophy. Everyone did not yield, there
were still wise men. But, too often, they had no other
resource than death. The ignoble parts of humanity
were at times in the ascendent. The spirit of vertigo
and cruelty then overflowed and turned Rome into a
veritable hell.

This government, so frightfully unequal at Rome, was
much better in the provinces. Few of the disorders
which shocked the capital were felt there. In spite of
its defects the Roman administration was much better
than the royalties and republics which the conquest had
suppressed. The time of the sovereign municipalities
had gone by for centuries. These little states had de
stroyed themselves by their egotism, their jealous
spirit, their ignorance, or their little care for private
liberties. The ancient Greek life, all struggles, all
exterior, satisfied no one. It had been charming in its
day, but this brilliant Olympus of a democracy of
demi-gods having lost its freshness, had become some
thing dry, cold, insignificant, vain, superficial, for want of
goodness and of solid honesty. This, it was, which con
stituted the legitimacy of the Macedonian domination,
then of the Roman administration. The Empire did
not yet know the excess of centralization. Until the
time of Diocletian, it left much liberty to the provinces
and cities. Kingdoms, almost independent, existed in
Palestine, in Syria, in Asia Minor, in little Armenia,
in Thrace under the protection of Rome. These
kingdoms became dangers only in the days of Caligula,
because the rules of the great and profound political
policy of Augustus were neglected. The free cities, and
they were numerous, governed themselves according to
their own laws ; they had the legislative power and all
the magistracy of an autonomous state, until the third
century, municipal decrees began with the formula, " The
senate and the people. . ." The theatres served, not
only for the pleasures of the stage, they were the centres
of opinion and of movement. The majority of the towns

THE APOSTLES.

were under various names, little republics. The munici
pal spirit was very strong in them ; they had not lost
the right of declaring war — a melancholy right which
had turned the world into a field of carnage. " The
benefits conferred by the Roman people on the human
race," were the theme of declamations which were
sometimes adulatory, but the sincerity of which cannot
always be denied with justice. The worship of the
" Roman peace," the idea of a great democracy
organised under the protection of Rome was at the
bottom of all thoughts. A Greek orator exhibited
vast erudition in proving that the glory of Rome ought
to be gathered amongst all the branches of the Hellenic
race as a soilj of common patrimony. In what con
cerned Syria, Asia Minor, Egypt, it may be said that
the Roman conquest destroyed no liberty. These
countries had long been dead to the political life which
they had never had.

In short, notwithstanding the exactions of the
governors, and the violence, inseparable from an absolute
government the world in many respects had never yet
been so happy. An administration coming from a distant
centre was so great an advantage that even the plunder-
ings of the Prcetors in the last days of the Republic
had not been sufficient to make it odious. The Julian
law, besides, had greatly narrowed the field of abuse
and of collusions. The follies or the cruelties of the
Emperor, except under Nero, affected only the Roman
aristocracy and the immediate surroundings of the
Prince. There never was a time when a man who did
not meddle in politics could live more comfortably. The
republics of antiquity, in which everyone was forced to
occupy himself with the quarrels of parties, were ex
ceedingly uncomfortable places of abode. People were
incessantly upset or proscribed. Now the time seemed
expressly fitted for large proselytisms above the quarrels
of the little towns and the rivalries of dynasties. Such
attempts against liberty as there were, arose out of what

iGS THE APOSTLES.

was still left of independence in provinces or communities
much more than from the Roman administration. We
have had, and we shall still have, numerous instances of
this kind of thing to remark.

In those of the conquered countries in which political
necessities had not existed for centuries, and where the
people were deprived only of the right to tear each
other to pieces by continual wars, the Empire was a
period of prosperity and of well-being, such as had
never been known, we may even add without paradox,
of liberty, On the one hand, freedom of trade and of
industry, of which the Greek Republics had no idea,
became possible. On the other, liberty of thought
could only gain by the new system. That liberty is
always stronger when it has to deal with a king or a
prince, than when it has to negotiate with a narrow and
jealous citizen. The ancient republics did not possess
it. The Greeks did without it in great things, thanks
to the incomparable strength of their genius, but it
ought not to be forgotten that Athens had her inquisi
tion. The inquisition was the archon king ; the holy
office was the Royal Porch, whither were taken accusa
tions of '•' impiety." Accusations of that kind were very
numerous ; it is concerning cases of this description
that most of the great Attic orations were delivered.
Not merely philosophical crimes, such as denying God or
providence, but the slightest blow struck at the
municipal worship, the preaching of foreign religions,
the most childish infractions of the scrupulous legisla
tion of the mysteries, were crimes which might be
punished with death. The gods whom Aristophanes
mocked at on the stage, killed sometimes. They killed
Socrates, they wanted to kill Alcibiades. Anaxagoras,
Protagoras, Theodoras the Atheist, Diagoras of Melos,
Prodicus of Ceos, Stilpo, Aristotle, Theophrastus,
Aspasia, Euripides, were more or less seriously dis
quieted. Liberty of thought was, in short, the fruit of
the royalties which sprang out of the Macedonian

THE APOSTLES. 169

conquest. It was the Attali, the Ptolemies, who first
gave to thinkers the facilities that none of the old
republics had ever offered to them. The Roman Empire
continued the same tradition. There was, under the
empire, more than one arbitrary act against the philoso
phers, but they arose always, through their interfering
with politics. We may seek in vain in the list of
Roman laws before Constantine for a text against the
liberty of thought, in the history of the emperors for a
process against abstract doctrine. Not one scholar was
disturbed. Men who would have been burned in the
middle ages, such as Galen, Lucian, Plotinus, lived on
in peace, protected by the law. The empire inaugur
ated a period of liberty, inasmuch as it extinguished
the absolute sovereignty of the family, of the city, of
the tribe, and replaced or tempered these sovereignties
by that of the state. Now an absolute power becomes
more vexatious in proportion to the narrowness of the
limits within which it is exercised. The ancient republics,
feudality, tyrannized over the individual much more
than the State did. We must admit that the Roman
Empire at certain periods persecuted Christianity
cruelly, but, at least, it did not stop it. Now the
republics would have rendered it impossible ; Judaism,
if it had not submitted to the pressure of Roman
authority, would have been sufficient to stifle it. The
Pharisees were prevented from crushing out Christianity
only by the Roman magistrates.

Large ideas of universal brotherhood springing for
the most part out of stoicism, a sort of general senti
ment of humanity, were the fruits of the less narrow
system and of the less exclusive education to which the
individual was subjected. There were dreams of a new
era and of new worlds. The public wealth was great,
and, notwithstanding the imperfection of the economic
doctrines of the times, wealth was widely spread. Morals
were not what they have often been imagined to be. At
Rome, it is true, all the vices were displayed with a

170 THE APOSTLES.

revolting cynicism ; the spectacles, especially, had intro
duced a frightful corruption. Certain countries, like
Egypt, have thus sunk into the lowest depths. But there
was, in most of the provinces, a middle class, where
goodness, conjugal faith, the domestic virtues, probity,
were sufficiently spread out. Is there anywhere an
idea of family life in a world of honest citizens of small
towns, more charming than that which Plutarch has
left us ? What bonhomie ! What gentleness of man
ners ! What chaste and amiable simplicity ! Chseronea
was evidently not the only place where life was so pure
and so innocent.

Customs even outside Rome were still to a certain ex
tent cruel, it may be through the memory of antique
manners, everywhere rather sanguinary, it may be
through the special influence of Roman hardness. But
there was progress even in this respect. What soft and
pure sentiment, what impression of tender melancholy
had not found its tenderest expression by the pen of
Virgil or Tibullus ? The world grew more yielding;
lost its antique rigour, acquired gentleness and suscepti
bility. Maxims of humanity grew common ; equality,
the abstract idea of the rights of man, were loudly
preached by stoicism. Woman, thanks to the dowry
system of the Roman law, became more and more her
own mistress ; precepts on the manner of treating slaves
improved; Seneca ate with his. The slave was no
longer of necessity that grotesque and malicious being,
whom Latin comedy introduced to provoke outbursts of
laughter, and whom Cato reeorirjiended to be treated
as a beast of burden. The times have now greatly
changed. The slave is morally the equal of his master ;
it is admitted that he is capable of virtue, of fidelity, of
devotion, and he has given proofs that he is so. Preju
dices as to nobility of birth are dying out. Many very
humane and very just laws are enacted even under the
worst of the Emperors. Tiberius was an able finan
cier ; he founded upon an excellent basis an establish-

1?HE APOSTLES. 171

ment of the nature of a land-bank. Nero brought to
the system of taxation, until then iniquitous and bar
barous, improvements which put our own times to the
blush. The progress of legislation was considerable,
though the punishment of death was stupidly frequent.
Love of the poor, sympathy for all, alms-giving, became
virtues.

The theatre was one of the most insupportable scan
dals to honest people, and was one of the first causes of
the antipathy of Jews and Judaizers of every class
against the profane civilization of the time. These
gigantic circles appeared to them the sewer in which
all the vices festered. Whilst the front ranks ap
plauded, repulsion and horror alone were produced on
the upper benches. The spectacles of gladiators were
established in the provinces only with difficulty. The
Greek countries at least objected to them, and clung
more often to their ancient Greek exercises. The san
guinary games preserved always in the East a very pro
nounced mark of their Roman origin. The Athenians
in emulation of the Corinthians having, one day deliber
ated as to imitating these barbarous games, a philo
sopher is said to have risen and moved that before this
was done, the altar of Pity should be overthrown. The
horror of the theatre, of the stadium, of the gymnasium,
that is to say, of the public places, and of what consti
tuted essentially a Greek or a Roman city, was thus one
of the deepest sentiments of the Christian, and one of
those which produced the greatest results. Ancient
civilization was a public civilization ; everything was
done in the open air, before the assembled citizens. It
was the reverse of our societies, where life is altogether
private and closed within the compass of the house.
The theatre was the heir of the agora and of the
forum. >The anathema uttered against the theatre
rebounded upon all society. A profound rivalry was
established between the Church on the one hand, the
public games on the other. The slave, driven from the

APOSTLEP.

games, betook himself to the Church. I never sit down
in these mournful arenas, which are always the best
preserved ruins of an ancient city, without seeing there
in the spirit the struggle of the two worlds — here the
honest poor man, already half a Christian, sitting in the
last rank, veiling his face, and going out indignant —
there a philosopher rising suddenly and reproaching the
crowd with its baseness. These examples were rare in
the first century, but the protest began to make itself
heard. The theatre began to fall into evil repute.

Legislation and the administrative rules of the Em
pire were still a veritable chaos. The central despotism,
the municipal and provincial franchises, the caprice of
the governors, the violences of the independent com
munities clashed in the strangest manner. But reli
gious liberty gained by these conflicts. The splendid
unitary administration of Trajan will be more fatal to
the rising worship than the irregular state, full of the
unforeseen, without rigorous police of the time of the
Csesars.

The institutions of public assistance, founded on the
principle that the State has paternal duties towards its
members, developed themselves extensively only after
the period of Nerva and Trajan. Some traces of them
are, however, found in the first century. There were
already charities for children,distributions of food to the
poor, an assize of bread, with indemnities to the corn
merchants, precautions about provisions, premiums and
assurances for ship owners, bread bonds, which permitted
corn to be bought at a reduced price. All the emperors,
without exception, showed the greatest solicitude about
these questions, minor ones, if you like, but on certain
occasions of primary importance. In the earliest ages
it is possible that the world had no need of charity.
The world was young and valiant, the hospital was use
less. The good and simple Homeric moral, according
to which the host and the beggar alike come from
Jupiter, is the moral of robust and cheerful youth.

THE APOSTLES. 173

Greece, in her classic age, enunciated the most exquisite
maxims of pity, of benevolence, of humanity, without
mixing up with them any after-thought of social in
quietude, or of melancholy. Man, at this time, was still
healthy and happy ; he could not take evil into account.
In connection with institutions of mutual succour, the
Greeks had besides, a great priority over the Romans.
Never did a liberal or benevolent disposition spring
from that cruel nobility, who exercised during the period
of the Republic, so oppressive a power. At the time of
which we speak, the colossal fortunes of the aristocracy,
luxury, the great agglomerations of men at certain
points, and above all, the hard-heartedness peculiar to
the Romans, their aversion to pity had given birth to
pauperism. The civilities of certain ^Emperors to the
Roman canaille had only served to aggravate the evil
The sportula, the tesserae frumentarice encouraged vice
and idleness, but brought no remedy to misery. Here, as
in many other matters, the East had a great superiority
over the Western world. The Jews possessed real
charitable institutions. The temples of Egypt appear
sometimes to have had a poor box. The college of
recluses, male and female, in the Serapeum, at Memphis,
was also in a way, a charitable establishment. The
terrible crisis, through which humanity passed in the
capital of the Empire, was but little felt in distant
countries, where life remained more simple. The re
proach of having poisoned the earth, the comparison of
Rome with a courtezan, who has poured forth upon the
world the dregs of her immorality, was just in many
ways. The provinces were better than Rome, or rather
the impure elements from all parts, which were collected
at Rome, as in a sewer, had formed there a centre of in
fection where the old Roman virtues were stifled, and
where the good seed from elsewhere developed itself but
slowly.

The intellectual state ot various parts of the Empire
was not very satisfactory, In this respect there was a

174 THE APOSTLES.

real falling off. The higher culture of the mind is not
as independent of political circumstances as is private
morality, though the progress of the two may be on
parallel lines. Marcus Aurelius was certainly a more
honest man than all the old Greek philosophers, yet his
positive notions of the realities of the universe are in
ferior to those of Aristotle or of Epicurus ; for he be
lieved at times in the gods as finished and distinct per
sonages, in dreams and in omens. The world at the
Roman period made progress in morality, and suffered
a scientific decline. From Tiberius to Nerva, the de
cline is altogether sensible. The Greek genius, with an
originality, a force, a richness, which have never been
equalled, had createdin the course of centuries, the national
encyclopaedia, the normal discipline of the mind. This
marvellous movement dating from Thales, and from the
first schools of Ionia (six hundred years before Jesus
Christ) had almost stopped about the year 120 B.C.
The last survivors of these five centuries of genius,
Apollonius of Perga, Eratosthenes, Aristarchus, Hero,
Archimedes, Hipparchus, Chrysippus, Carneades,
Panetius, had died without leaving successors. I see
only Posidonius and some astronomers who continued
still the old traditions of Alexandria, of Rhodes, of Per-
gamus. Greece, so able in creating, had not known how
to extract from her science, or her philosophy, a popular
teaching, a remedy against superstition. Whilst pos
sessing in their bosom admirable scientific institutions,
Egypt, Asia Minor, Greece itself, were given over to the
most foolish beliefs. Now, when science cannot control
superstition, superstition chokes science. Between
these two opposed forces, the duel is to the death.

Italy, in adopting Greek science, had learned for a
moment to animate it with a new sentiment. Lucretius
had furnished the model of the great philosophical
poem, at once hymn and blasphemy, inspiring in turn,
serenity and despair, penetrated with that profound
sentiment of human destiny, which was always wanting

THE APOSTLES. 175

to the Greeks. They, like true children, as they were,
took life in so gay a fashion, that they never dreamed
of cursing the gods, or of finding nature unjust or perfi
dious towards man. Graver thoughts arose amongst
the Latin philosophers, But Rome knew no better than
Greece how to make science the basis of popular edu
cation. Whilst Cicero gave with an exquisite tact, a
finished form to the ideas which he borrowed from the
Greeks ; whilst Lucretius wrote his astonishing poem ;
whilst Horace avowed to Augustus, who was in no way
moved by it, his frank incredulity ; whilst Ovid, one of
the most charming poets of the time, treated the most
respectable fables like an elegant literature ; whilst the
great Stoics drew practical consequences from the Greek
philosophy, the maddest chimeras found believers, the
faith in the marvellous was unbounded. Never was the
world more occupied with prophecies and prodigies.
The fine eclectic deism of Cicero, continued and per
fected still more by Seneca, remained the belief of a
small number of lofty minds exercising no influence
whatever upon their age.

The Empire until the time of Vespasian had nothing
which could be called public instruction. What there
was of this kind at a later date was confined almost ex
clusively to the insipid exercises of the grammarians ;
the general decadence was rather pressed on than
delayed. The last days of the republican government,
and the reign of Augustus, were witnesses to one of the
finest literary movements that ever took place. But
after the death of the great Emperor the decadence is
rapid, or, more correctly, altogether sudden. The intel
ligent and cultivated society of Cicero, Atticus, Caesar,
Ma3cenas, Agrippa, Pollio, had disappeared like a
dream. Without doubt there were still enlightened
men, men abreast of the science of their time, occupying
high social positions, such as Seneca and the literary
society of which he was the centre, Lucilius, Gallic,
Pliny. The body of Roman law, which is philosophy

176 THE APOSTLES.

itself in the form of a code, the putting in practice of
Greek rationalism, continued its majestic growth. The
great Roman families had preserved a bottom of ele
vated religion, and a great horror of superstition. The
geographers, Strabo and Pomponius Mela, the doctor and
encyclopaedist, Oelsus, the botanist, Dioscorides, the juris
consult Sempronius Proculus, were very able men. But
they were the exceptions. Except for some thousands
of enlightened men, the world was plunged into the
most complete ignorance of the laws of nature.
Credulity was a general disease. Literary culture was
reduced to hollow rhetoric, which taught nothing. The
essentially moral and practical direction which philo
sophy has taken banished grand speculations. Human
knowledge, if we except geography, made no progress.
The instructed and well-read amateur replaced the
creative scholar. The supreme defect of the Romans
here made its fatal influence felt. This people so great
for empire were second-rate in mind. The best educated
Romans, Lucretius, Vitruvius, Celsus, Pliny, Seneca,
were in positive knowledge the pupils of the Greeks.
Too often even it was the most mediocre Greek science
that they copied indifferently. The city of Rome had
never had a great scientific school. Charlatanism
reigned there almost without control. In short, the
Latin literature which certainly had admirable parts,
flourished but a short time and did not go out of the
Western world.

Greece happily remained faithful to her genius. The
prodigious blaze of the Roman power had dazzled her,
crushed her down, but had not destroyed her. In fifty
years she will have reconquered the world, she will
again be the mistress of all who think, she will sit on
the throne with the Antonines. But now Greece her
self is in one of her hours of lassitude. Genius is rare
there ; original science inferior to what it had been in
the six preceding centuries and to what it will be in the
next. The school of Alexandria, decaying for nearly

THE APOSTLES. 17?

two centuriues bt which however in the time of Csesar
still possessed Sosigenes, is now mute.

From the death of Augustus to the accession of
Trajan must be reckoned as a period of momentary abase
ment of the human mind. The antique world was far
from having said its last word; but the cruel trial
through which it had passed, had robbed it of voice and
heart. Better days are dawning, and the mind relieved
from the desolating rule of the Caesars will appear to
revive. Epictetus, Plutarch, Dionysius, the golden-
mouthed. Chrysostom, Tacitus, Quintilian, Pliny, the
younger, Juvenal, Rufus of Ephesus, Aretasus, Galen,
Ptolemy, Hypsicles, Theon, Lucian, will recall the best
days of Greece, not of that inimitable Greece which
existed but once for the despair and the charm of those
who love the beautiful, but a Greece rich and flourishing
yet, which whilst confounding her gifts with those of the
Roman spirit will produce new fruits full of originality.

The general taste was very bad. There are no great
Greek writers. The Latin authors whom we know, with
the exception of the satirist Persius, are mediocre and
without genius. Declamation spoiled everything. The
principle by which the public judged the works of the
mind was pretty much the same as in our own day.
They only looked for the brilliant strokes. The word
was no longer the simple vesture of the thought, draw
ing all its elegance from its perfect proportion to the
idea it expressed. Words were cultivated for their own
sake. The object of an author in writing was to show
his talent. The excellence of a recitation or public
lecture was* measured by the number of applauded
words with which it was sown. The great principle
that in matters of art everything ought to serve for
ornament, but that all that is put in expressly as orna
ment is bad, this principle, I say, was profoundly for
gotten. The time was if you will, very literary. They
only spoke of eloquence, of good style, and at bottom
almost all the world wrote ill; there was not a single

178 THE APOSTLE&

of ator, for the good orator, and the good writer are men
who make a trade of neither one nor the other. At the
theatre the principal actor absorbed attention-^ plays
were suppressed that showy pieces might be recited —
the cantica. The spirit of literature was a silly dilet
tantism which seized even upon the Emperors, a foolish
vanity which led everybody to try to prove that he had
wit. Hence an extreme insipidity, interminable
"Theseids," dramas written to be read in society, a
whole poetic banality which can only be compared to the
classic tragedies and epics of sixty years ago.

Stoicism itself could not escape this defect, or at least
did not know before Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, how
to find a graceful form to envelope its doctrines. The
tragedies of Seneca are really extraordinary monuments
where the loftiest sentiments are expressed in the tone
of a literary charlatanism, wholly fatiguing and indicative
at once of moral progress and an irredeemable decadence
of taste. The same may be said of Lucan. The tension
of soul, the natural effect of the eminently tragic
character of the situation gave birth to an inflated style,
where the only care was to shine by fine sentences.
Something of the same kind happened amongst us under
the Revolution ; the severest crisis that had ever been
known produced scarcely anything but a literature of
rhetoricians, full of declamation. We must not stop at
that. The new thoughts were sometimes expressed with
a great deal of pretension. The style of Seneca is sober,
simple, and pure compared with that of S. Augustine.
But we forgive S. Augustine his, detestable though it
often is, and his insipid concetti, for the sake of his fine
sentiments.

In any case that education, noble and distinguished
as it was in many ways, never reached the people. That
would have been a comparatively slight inconvenience,
if the people had had at least a religious training
analogous in some sort to that which the most disin
herited portions of our societies receive in the Church.

THE APOSTLES. 179

But religion in all parts of the Empire was at the
lowest ebb. Rome with good reason had left the ancient
worships undisturbed, cutting away only those things
which were inhuman, seditious, or injurious to others.
She had extended over all a sort of official varnish
which made them all very much alike, and after a
fashion melted them down together. Unfortunately
these old worships, of very diverse origin, had one feature
in common ; it was equally impossible to arrive at
theological instruction ; at an applied morality ; at an
edifying preaching ; at a pastoral ministry really fruit
ful lor the people. The Pagan temple was in no way
what the synagogue and the church were in their palmy
days. I mean that common house, school, hostelry,
hospital, shelter, where the poor may find an asylum. It
was a cold cella, where one scarcely entered, and where
one learned nothing. The Roman worship was perhaps
the least bad of those which were still practised. Purity
of heart and of body were there considered as making
part of real religion. By its gravity, its decency, its
austerity, this worship, but for some farces like those of
our carnival, was superior to the bizarre and often
ridiculous ceremonies which persons afflicted with
Oriental notions secretly introduced. The affectation
which led the Roman patricians to distinguish " religion"
— that is to say their own worship, from " superstition,"
that is to say foreign modes of worship, appears to us
sufficiently puerile. All Pagan worship was essentially
superstitious. The peasant who in our days puts a
halfpenny into the box of some miracle-chapel, who
invokes such a saint for his oxen or his horses, who
drinks a certain water for certain diseases, is in those
matters distinctly Pagan. Almost all our superstitions
are the relics of a religion anterior to Christianity,
which the latter has not been able entirely to root out.
If one desired to find in our days the image of Pagan
ism, it is in some secluded village at the bottom of the
most backward country, that it is to be looked for.

180 THE APOSTLES.

Having for guardians only a vacillating popular
tradition and interested sacristan, the worship could not
but fall back into adulation. Augustus, although with
hesitation, suffered himself to be worshipped in the
provinces while yet alive. Tiberius allowed that ignoble
meeting of the Asiatic townsmen, who disputed the
honour of erecting a temple to him, to be held under his
eyes. The extravagant impieties of Caligula produced
no re-action ; outside Judaism there was not a single
priest to resist such follies, Sprung for the most part
from a primitive worship of natural forces, ten times
transformed by mixtures of all kinds, and by the imagi
nation of the people, Pagan worship was limited by its
past. It was impossible to extract from them what
they did not contain — deism, edification. The Fathers
of the Church make us smile when they talk of the
misdeeds of Saturn as of those of the father of a family,
and Jupiter as a husband. And surely it was much
more ridiculous still to erect Jupiter (that is to say the
atmosphere) into a moral god who commands, forbids,
rewards, punishes. In a world which aspired to possess
a catechism, which can be done with a worship like
that of Venus, which arose out of an old social necessity
of the first Phcenecian navigators in the Mediterranean,
but became with time an outrage to those who looked
up to it more and more as the essence of religion ?

In all quarters, in short, the need of a monotheistic
religion, having the morality of the divine prescriptions
for its basis, was felt more and more. There thus came
a time when natural religion, reduced to pure childish
ness, to the grimaces of sorcerers, would not suffice for
society where humanity wanted a moral and philoso
phical religion. Buddhism,Zoroasterism answered to that
need in India, in Persia. Orpheism and the Mysteries
had attempted the same thing in the Greek world, with
out succeeding in a durable manner. At this epoch the
problem presented itself to the whole of the world with
a sort of solemn unanimity and imperious grandeur.

THE APOSTLES. 181

Greece, it is true, formed an exception in this respect.
Hellenism was much less used than other religions of
the empire. Plutarch in his little Boeotian town lived
by Hellenism, tranquil, happy, contented as a child
with the calmest religious conscience. With him, not a
trace of crisis, of rending, of disquiet, of imminent revo
lution. But it was only the Greek spirit which was
capable of so infantine a serenity ' Always satisfied with
herself, proud of her past and of that brilliant mythology
of which she possessed all the holy places, Greece did
not share all the internal torments, which worried the
rest of the world. Only she did not call for Christianity ;
only she wished to pass it by ; only she thought to do
better. She held to that eternal youth, to that patriot
ism, to that gaiety which have always characterised the
veritable Hellene, and which to-day cause the Greek to
be a stranger to the profound cares which eat us up.
Hellenism thus found itself in a position to attempt a
renaissance which no other of the religions of the em
pire would have been able to attempt. In the second,
third, and fourth centuries of our era, Hellenism will
constitute itself an organised religion by a sort of
fusion of the Greek mythology and philosophy, and with
its wonder-working philosophers, its ancient sages pro
moted to the rank of prophets, its legends of Pytha
goras and of Apollonius, will enter into a rivalry with
Christianity, which, though it remained powerless, was
none the less the most dangerous obstacle which the
religion of Jesus found in its path.

That attempt was not made so early as the time of
the Caesars. The first philosophers who attempted
a species of alliance between philosophy and Paganism —
Euphrates of Tyre, Apollonius of Tyana, and Plutarch,
are of the end of the century. Euphrates of Tyre is but
little known to us. Legend has so covered up the warp
and woof of the real biography of Apollonius that it is
difficult to say, whether he is to be reckoned amongst the
sages, amongst the founders of religions, or amongst the

182 THE APOSTLES.

charlatans. Plutarch is less a thinker, an innovator
than a man of moderate mind who wishes to make all
the world agree by rendering philosophy timid and
religion half reasonable. There is nothing in him of
Porphyry or of Julian. The attempts at allegorical
exegesis by the Stoics are very weak. The mysteries
like those of Bacchus, where the immortality of the soul
was taught by graceful symbols, were limited to certain
countries and had no extended influence. The unbelief
in the official religion was general in the enlightened
class. The politicians who most affected to sustain the
worship of the State made a jest of it with much wit.
They openly put forward the immoral system that
religious fables are good only for the people and ought
to be maintained for them. The precaution was wholly
useless, for the faith of the people was itself profoundly
shattered.

After the accession of Tiberius, it is true, a religious
reaction made itself felt. It appears that the world
was frightened by the avowed incredulity of the times
of Caesar and Augustus ; the unlucky attempt of Julian
was anticipated ; all the superstitions found themselves
revivified for reasons of State. Valerius Maximus gives
us the first example of a writer of the lower class,
making himself the auxiliary of the theologians at bay ;
of a venal or prostituted pen put at the service of
religion. But it is the foreign religions which profit
most by this return. The serious reaction in favour of
the Grseco-Roman cult will only be produced in the
second century. Now the classes, which have been
seized with religious disquiet turn to wards the religions,
come from the East. Isis and Serapis find more favour
than ever. Importers of every species, miracle-mongers,
magicians, profit by the demand, and as usually happens
at periods when and in countries where the re
ligion of the State is weak, increased on every side,
recalling the real or fictitious types of Apoilonius of
Tyana, Alexander of Abonoticus, of Peregrinus, of Simon

THE APOSTLES. ]83

of Gitton. These very errors and chimeras were as a
prayer of the travailing earth, like the unfruitful efforts
of a world seeking its rule and arriving sometimes in i ts
convulsive efforts at monstrous creations destined to
oblivion.

To sum up : — the middle of the first century is one
of the worst epochs of ancient history. Greek and Roman
society show themselves in decadence after what has
gone before, and much behind hand with respect to what
is to follow But the grandeur of the crisis revealed
clearly some strange and sacred formation. Life appeared
to have lost its motive : suicides were multiplied.
Never had a century presented such a struggle between
good and evil. The evil was a powerful despotism, which
put the world into the hands of men, who were either
criminals or lunatics ; it was the corruption of morals, the
result of introducing into Rome the vices of the East ; it
was the absence of a good religion, and of a serious public
instruction. The good was on one side, philosophy
fighting with uncovered breast, against the tyrants,
defying the monsters, three or four times proscribed in
in half a century (under Nero, Vespasian and Domitian)
it was on another side the efforts after popular virtue
these legitimate aspirations after a better religious state,
this tendency towards confraternities, towards mono
theistic worship ; this rehabitilation of the poor, which
was principally produced under cover of Judaism, or
Christianity. These two great protestations were far
from being in agreement. The philosophical party and
the Christian party did not know each other, and they
had so little idea of the community of their efforts, that
the philosophical party, having come to power by the
advent of Nerva,was far from being favourable to Chris
tianity Truth to tell, the design of the Christian was
much more radical. The stoic masters of the Empire,
reformed it and presided over it during the hundred
best years in the history of humanity ^The Christian
masters of the Empire, after Constantino, succeeded in

184 THE APOSTLES.

ruining it. The heroism of some ought not to make
us forget that of others. Christianity, so unjust to Pagan
virtues, took up the task of depreciating those who had
fought against the same enemies that it had. There
was in the resistance of philosophy as much grandeur
as in that of Christianity, but the rewards have been
unequal. The martyr who turned away from the feet
of the idols has his legend : why should not Annaeus
Cornutus, who declared before Nero, that his books
would never be worth those of Chrysippus ; why should
not Helvidius Priscus, who told Vespasian to his face,
' It is for you to kill, and for me to die " ; why should
not Demetrius, the cynic, who answered the angry Nero
"You threaten me with death but nature threatens you,"
— why should not these men have their place amongst
the popular heroes whom all men love and salute ? Does
humanity dispose of so many forces against vice and
baseness, that every school of virtue should be allowed
to reject the aid of others, and to maintain that it only
has the right to be courageous, proud, resigned ?

CHAPTER XVIII.

RELIGIOUS LEGISLATION AT THIS PERIOD.

THE Empire in the first century, even whilst showing
itself hostile to the religious innovations which came
from the East, did not offer a constant resistance to them.
The principle of the religion of the State was but
moderately maintained. Under the Republic at various
intervals, foreign religions had been forbidden, in par
ticular the worship of Sabazius, of Isis, of Serapis. The
people were impelled towards these religions by an
irresistible force. When the demolition of the temple
of Isis and Serapis, was decreed at Rome, in the year

THE APOSTLES. 185

535, not a workman was found who would put a hand
to the work, and the Consul himself was obliged to
break in the door with the blows of an axe It is clear
that the Latin rite was not sufficient for the mob. Not
unreasonably it has been supposed, that it was to gratify
the popular instinct that Cassar re-established the wor
ship of Isis and Serapis.

With the profound and liberal intention characteristic
of him, this great man showed himself favourable to a
complete liberty of conscience. Augustus was more
attached to the national religion. He had antipathy for
the Oriental religions ; he forbade even the propagation
of Egyptian ceremonies in Italy; but he wished that
every religion, that of the Jews especially, should be
supreme at home. He exempted the Jews from every
thing that might distress their consciences, especially from
secular work on the Sabbath. Some persons of his court
were less tolerant, and would willingly have made him a
persecutor for the benefit of the Latin religion. He
does not appear to have yielded to these wretched
counsels. Josephus, who is suspected of exaggeration
in this matter, will even have it that he made gifts of
sacred vessels to the temple at Jerusalem.

It was Tiberius who first laid down the principle of
the religion of the State, with clearness, and took serious
precautions against the Jewish and Oriental propaganda.
It must be remembered that the Emperor was " Grand
Pontiff," that in protecting the old Roman religion he
did bu'_* execute a duty laid upon him. Caligula
withdrew the edicts of Tiberius, but his madness pre
vented anything further from being done. Claudius
appears to have imitated the policy of Augustus. At
Rome he strengthened the Latin religion, showed him
self interested in the progress made by foreign religion,
displayed harshness to the Jews, and pursued the con
fraternities with fury. In Judea, on the contrary, he
showed himself well disposed towards the natives. The
favour which the Agrippas displayed at Rome under

186 THE APOSTLES.

these two last reigns, assured to their co-religionists a
powerful protection, except in those cases when the1
police of Rome required measures of safety.

Nero concerned himself but little with religion. His
odious treatment of the Christians came from native
ferocity and not from legislative disposition. The
examples of persecution which were quoted in Roman
society at this time sprang rather from family than
public authority. Such things still happened only in
the noble houses of Rome, which preserved the old
traditions. The provinces were perfectly free to follow
their own religions on the single condition that they
did not insult the religions of other countries. The pro
vincials of Rome had the same right, provided they made
no scandal. The only two religions against which the
Empire made war in the first century, Druidism and
Judaism, were fortresses where nationalities defended
themselves. All the world was convinced that the
profession of Judaism implied contempt for the civil
law, and indifference to the prosperity of the State.
When Judaism was content to be a simple personal
religion, it was not persecuted. The severities against
the worship of Serapis, arose perhaps from the mono
theistic character which it presented, and which already
caused it to be confounded with the Jewish and the
Christian religion.

No fixed law then forbade in the time of the
apostles the profession of monotheistic religion. These
religions, until the accession of the Syrian Emperors,
were always watched, but it was not until the time of
Trajan that the Empire began to prosecute them
systematically as hostile to others, as intolerant, and as
implying the negation of the State. In short, the
only thing against which the Roman Empire declared
war in the matter of religion was theocracy. Its prin
ciple was that of the lay state ; it did not admit that a
religion had civil or political consequence in any
degree ; above all it did not allow of any association

THE APOSTLES. 187

within the State for objects outside of it. This last
point is essential, seeing that it really was at the root
of all the persecutions. The law upon confraternties,
much more than religious intolerance, was the fatal
cause of the violences which dishonoured the reigns of
the best sovereigns.

The Greek countries, associated as they were with all
things good and delicate, had had the priority over the
Romans. The Greek Eranes or Thiases of Athens,
Rhodes, of the inlands of the Archipelago, had been
excellent societies for mutual help, credit, assurance in
case of fire, piety, honest pleasures. Every Erane had
its decisions engraved upon the arches (stelos), its
archives, its common chest, fed by voluntary gifts and
assessments. The Eranites or Thiastes celebrated to
gether certain festivals and met for banquets, where
cordiality reigned. A member, embarassed for money,
might borrow from the chest on condition of repay
ment. Women formed part of these Eranes, and had
their separate President (proeranistria;. The meetings
were absolutely secret ; a rigid order was maintained in
them ; they took place, it would seem, in closed gardens,
surrounded by porches or small buildings, in the midst
of which rose the altar of sacrifice. * Finally, every con
gregation had a body of dignitaries, drawn by lot for a
year (Clerotes), according to the custom of ancient
Greek democracies, from whom the Christian " clergy "
may have taken their name. The president alone was
elected. These officers caused the new members to
submit to a species of examination, and were bound to
certify that he was " holy, pious and good." There was
in these little confraternities, during the two or three
centuries which preceded our era, a movement almost
as varied as that which in the middle ages produced so
many religious orders and subdivisions of these orders.
In the single island of Rhodes there were computed to
be as many as nineteen, many of which bore the names
of their founders or their reformers. Some of these

188 THE APOSTLES

Thiastes, especially those of Bacchus, held elevated
doctrines, and sought to give some consolation to men
of good will. If there still remained in the Greek
world a little love, pity, religious morality, it was due
to the liberty of such private religions. These religion^
were in a sort of way associated with the official
religion, the abandonment of which became every day
more and more marked.

At Rome association of the same kind encountered
greater difficulties and not less favour amongst the
proscribed classes. The principles of the Roman policy
concerning confraternities had been promulgated for
the first time under the Republic (186 B.C.) apropos
of the Bacchanals. The Romans by their natural taste
were greatly inclined to associations, especially to
religious associations ; but permanent congregations of
this kind displeased the patricians, guardians of public
powers, who, in their narrow and dry conception of life,
admitted only the Family of the State as the social
group. The most minute precautions were taken ; a
preliminary authorization was made a necessity, the
number of members was limited ; it was forbidden to
have a permanent magister sacrorum, and to create a
common fund by means of subscriptions. The same
solicitude was manifested on various occasions in the
history of the empire. The laws contained texts for
repressions of every kind. But it was for the authorities
to say, if they should or should not be used. The
proscribed religions often appeared a very few years
after their proscription. The foreign emigration, besides,
especially that of the Syrians, perpetually renewed the
funds from which the beliefs were nourished, which it
was vainly sought to extirpate. ^

It is remarkable to note, to how great a degree a
subject in appearance so wholly secondary occupied the
strongest heads. One of the principal cares of Caesar
and of Augustus was to prevent the formation of new
societies and to destroy those which had already been

1HE APOSTLES, 189

established. It appears that a decree was issued un
der Augustus, in which an attempt was made to de
fine with clearness the limits of the law of union and
association. These limits were extremely narrow. The
societies were to be exclusively burial clubs. They
were not permitted to meet more often than once a
month ; they might occupy themselves only with the
funerals of deceased members ; under no pretext might
they extend their powers. • The Emperor strove after
the impossible. He wished out of his exaggerated idea
of the state to isolate the individual, to destroy every
moral tie between man, to repress a legitimate desire
of the poor, that of crowding together in a small space
to keep each other warm. In ancient Greece the city
was very tyrannical, but it gave in exchange for its
vexations so much pleasure, so much light, so much

flory, that no one dreamed of complaining. Men would
ave died for her with joy ; her most unjust caprices were
submitted to without murmuring. The Roman Empire
was too large for patriotism. It offered to all immense
material advantages ; it gave nothing to love. The
insupportable sadness inseparable from such a life ap
peared worse than death.

Thus, notwithstanding all the efforts of the politicians,
the confraternities developed themselves enormously.
They were exactly analogous to our middle age confrater
nities with their patron saints and their corporation
meals. The great families were careful of their name, of
their country, of their tradition ; the humble, the small,
had only their collegium. There they found all their
pleasures. All the texts show us collegia or ccetus, as
formed of slaves, of veterans, of small people (tenuiores).
Equality reigned there among the freemen, emanci
pated slaves and servile persons. The women in them
were numerous. At the risk of a thousand cavils, some
times of the most severe punishments, men became mem
bers of these collegia, where they lived in the bonds of an
agreeable confraternity, where they found mutual help,

190 THE APOSTLES.

where they contracted relations which lasted after
death. The place of meeting, or schola collegii, had
usually a tetrastyle (a four sided porch), where was put
up the rules of the college, by the side of the altar of
the tutelary deity and a triclinium for meals. The
meals were, in fact, impatiently expected ; they took
place on the feast days of the patron (God), and on the
anniversaries of certain brethren who had founded
benefactions. Every one carried thither his little
basket (sportula) ; one of the brethren in turn fur
nished the accessories of the feast, the beds, the plate,
bread, wine, sardines and hot water. The slave, who
had been enfranchised gave his comrades an amphora
of good wine. A gentle joy animated the festival ; it
was expressly stipulated that there should be no
discussion of the business of the college, so that nothing
should trouble the quarter of an hour of joy and rest
which these poor people reserved to themselves. Every
act of turbulence and every ill-natured word was pun
ished with a fine.

To all appearance, these colleges were only burial
societies, to use the modern phrase. But that alone
would not have sufficed to give them a moral character.
In the Roman period, as in our time, and at all periods
when religion is weakened, the piety of the tombs was
almost the only one which the people retained. They
liked to believe that they would not be thrown into the
horrible common trench, that the college would provide
for their funerals, that the brethren would come on foot
to the funeral pile to receive a little honorarium of
twenty centimes. Slaves especially wished to hope that
if their masters caused their bodies to be thrown into
the sewers, there would be some friends to make for
them " imaginary funerals." The poor man put his half
penny per month into the common fund, to provide for
himself, after his death, a little urn in a Columbarium,
with a slab of marble, on which his name might be en
graved. Sepulture amongst the Romans being inti-

THE APOSTLES, 191

mately bound up with the sacra gentilitia, or family
rites, had an extreme importance. The persons, intend
ing to be buried together, contracted a species of inti
mate brotherhood and relationship.

It thus came about that Christianity presented itself
for a long time in Rome as a kind of funeral collegium,
and that the first Christian sanctuaries were the tombs
of the martyrs. If Christianity had been that one, how
ever, it would not have provoked so many severities ;
but it was besides quite another thing ; it had common
treasuries ; it boasted of being a complete city ; it be
lieved itself assured of the future. *- When, on a Satur
day evening, one enters the limits of a Greek Church in
Turkey, for example that of S. Photinus in Smyrna, he is
struck with the strength of these associated religions, in
the midst of a persecuting and malevolent society. This
irregular accumulation of buildings (church, presbytery,
schools, prison), those faithful ones coming and going in
their enclosed city, those lately opened tombs, on each
of which a lamp is burning, the corpse-like odour, the
impression of damp mustiness, the murmur of prayers,
the appeals for charity, from a soft and warm atmos
phere, that a stranger at times must find sufficiently
sickening, but that is to the initiated eminently grateful.

These societies, once provided with a special authori
zation, had in Rome all the rights of civil persons ; but
such an authorization was granted only with infinite re
serves, as soon as the societies had funds in hand, and
other matters than funerals might occupy them. The
pretext of religion, or of the accomplishment of vows in
common is foreseen, and formally pointed out as being
amongst the circumstances, which give to a meeting the
character of an offence ; and this offence was no other
than that of treason, at least for the person who
had called the assembly together. * Claudius went so far
as to close the inns where the confraternities met, and
even to interdict the little eating-houses, where these
poor people could get soup and hot water cheaply.

192 TELE APOSTLES.

Trajan and the best Emperors defied all the associa
tions. The extreme humility of the persons was an
essential condition that the right of religious meeting
should be accorded, and even then, only with many
restrictions. The legists, who put together the Roman
law, eminent though they were as jurisconsults, afforded
a measure of their ignorance of human nature by pur
suing in every way, even by threats of capital punish
ment, in restraining by every kind of odious and puerile
precaution, an eternal need of the soul. Like the
authors of our Civil Code, they figured life to them
selves with a mortal coldness. If life consisted in
amusing oneself by superior orders, in eating a morsel of
bread, in tasting pleasure in one's rank and under the
eye of a chief, everything would be well imagined. But
the punishment of societies which abandoned that false
and limited direction, is first weariness, then the violent
triumph of religious parties. Never will man consent
to breathe that glacial air ; he wants the little enclosure,
the confraternity in which men live and die together.
Our great abstract societies are not sufficient to answer
to all the instincts of sociability which are in man. Let
him put his heart into anything, seek consolation where
it may be found, create brethren for himself, contract
ties of the heart. Let not the cold hand of the State
interfere in this kingdom of the soul, which is the king
dom of liberty. Life and joy will not re-enter the
world until our defiance of. the collegia, that sad inheri
tance from the Roman law, shall have disappeared.
Association outside the State, without destroying the
State, is the capital question of the future. The future
law as to associations will decide if modern society
fihall or shall not share the fate of ancient society. One
example may suffice : the Roman Empire had bound up
its destiny with the law upon the cmtus illiciti, the
illicita collegia. Christians and barbarians accom
plishing in this the work of the human conscience, have
broken the law ; the empire to which that law was
attached has foundered with it.

THE APOSTLES. 193

The Greek and Roman world ; the lay world ; the
profane world, which did not know what a priest is,
which had neither divine law nor revealed book, touched
here upon problems which it could not solve. We may
add that if there had been priests, a severe theology, a
strongly organized religion, it would not have created
the lay State, inaugurated the idea of a rational society,
of a society founded upon simple human necessities, and
upon the natural relations of individuals. The religious
inferiority of the Greeks and Romans was the conse
quence of their political and intellectual superiority.
The religious superiority of the Jewish people, on the
contrary, was the cause of their political and philosophi
cal inferiority. Judaism and primitive Christianity em
bodied the negation, or rather the subjection of the
civil State. Like Islamism, they established society
upon religion. When human affairs are taken up in
this way, great universal proselytisms are founded,
apostles run about from one end of the world to another
converting it ; but political institutions, national inde
pendence, a dynasty, a code, a people — none of these
are founded.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE FUTURE OF MISSIONS.

SUCH was the world which Christian missionaries under
took to convert. It appears to me, however, that we
may here see that such an enterprise was not a mad
ness, and that no miracle was required to insure its
success. The world was troubled with moral necessities,
to which the new religion answered admirably. Man
ners were growing softer ; a purer worship was required ;
the notion of the rights of man, the ideas of social

I

194 THE APOSTLES.

ameliorations were everywhere gaining ground. On the
other hand there was extreme credulity ; the number of
educated persons inconsiderable. Let ardent apostles,
Jews, that is to say, monotheists, disciples of Jesus,
that is to say, men penetrated with the sweetest moral
teaching that the ears of man have yet heard, present
themselves to such a world, and they will assuredly be
listened to. The dreams, which mingle with their teach
ing, will not be an obstacle to their success ; the num
ber of those who do not believe in the supernatural, in
miracles, is very small If they are humble and poor,
so much the better. Humanity, at its present point,
can be saved only by an effort coming from the people.
The ancient Pagan religions cannot be reformed ; the
Roman State is what the State always will be, harsh,
dry, just, and hard. In this world, which is perishing
for want of love, the future belongs to him, who will
touch the living source of popular piety. Greek liberal
ism, the old Roman gravity, are altogether impotent for
that.

The foundation of Christianity, from this point of
view, is the greatest work that the men of the people
have ever achieved. Very quickly, without doubt, men
and women of the high Roman nobility joined them
selves to the Church. At the end of the first century,
Flavius Clemens and Flavia Domitilla, show us Chris-
*ianity penetrating almost into the palace of the Csesars.
la the time of the first Antonines, there are rich people
in the community. Towards the end of the second cen
tury, it embraces some of the most considerable persons
in the Empire. But in the beginning all, or almost all,
were humble. In the most ancient churches, nobles and
powerful men were no more to be found than in Galilee
about Jesus. Now, in these great creations, it is the
first hour which is decisive. The glory of religions be
longs wholly to their founders. Religion is, in fact, a
matter of faith. To believe is something vulgar ; the
great thing to do is to inspire faith.

THE APOSTLES. 195

When we attempt to delineate these marvellous be
ginnings, we usually represent things on the model of
our own times, and are thus brought to grave errors.
The man of the people in the first century of our era,
especially in Greek and Oriental countries, in no way
resembled what he is to-day. Education did not then
mark out between the classes a barrier as strong as now.
These races of the Mediterranean, if we except the
population of Latium, which had disappeared, or had
lost all their importance since the Roman Empire, in
conquering the world, had become the heritage of the
conquered peoples — these races, I say, were less solid
than ours, but lighter, more lively, more spiritual, more
idealistic. The heavy materialism of our disinherited
classes, that something mournful and burnt out, the
effect of our climate, and the fatal legacy of the middle
ages, which gives to our poor so wretched a counten
ance, was not the defect of the poor of those earlier days.
Though very ignorant and very credulous, they were
scarcely more so than rich and powerful men. We ought
therefore not to represent the establishment of Chris
tianity as analogous in any way to a movement amongst
ourselves, starting from the lower classes (a thing in our
eyes impossible) by obtaining the assent of educated
men. The founders of Christianity were men of the
people, in the sense that they were dressed in a common
fashion, that they lived simply, that they spoke ill, or
rather sought in speaking only to express their ideas
with vivacity. But they were inferior in intelligence
to only a very small number of men, the survivors who
were becoming every day more rare, from the great
world of CaBsar and of Augustus. Compared with the
elite of the philosophers, who formed the bond between
the century of Augustus and that of the Antonines, the
first Christians were feeble. Compared with the mass
of the subjects of the Empire, they were enlightened.
Sometimes they were treated as freethinkers ; the cry
of the populace against them was, " Death to the

12

196 THE APOSTLES.

atheists ! " And this is not surprising. The world was
making frightful progress in superstition. The two
first capitals of the Christianity of the Gentiles, Antioch
and Ephesus, were the two cities of the Empire, the
most addicted to supernatural beliefs. The second and
third centuries pushed even to insanity, credulity, and
the thirst for the marvellous.

Christianity was born outside the official world, but
not precisely below it. It is in appearance, and accord
ing to earthly prejudices that the disciples of Jesus were
unimportant persons. The worldly man loves what is
proud and strong ; he speaks without affability to the
humble man ; honour as he understands it, consists in
not allowing himself to be insulted ; he despises those
who avow themselves weak, who suffer everything, yield
to everything, who give up their coat to him who would
take their cloak, who turn their cheeks to the smiters.
There lies his error, for the weak, whom he despises, are
usually superior to him ; the highest virtue is amongst
those who obey (servants, work-people, soldiers, sailors,
etc.) — higher than amongst those who command and
enjoy. And that is almost in order, since to command
and to enjoy, far from aiding virtue, make virtue
difficult.

Jesus marvellously comprehended that the people
carry in their bosoms the great reserve of devotion and
of resignation which will save the world. This is why
he proclaimed the blessedness of the poor, judging that
they find it more easy than other people to be good.
The primitive Christians were essentially poor. " Poor "
(Ebionim) was their name. Even when the Christian
was rich, in the second and third centuries, he was in
spirit a tenuior ; he escaped, thanks to the law of the
Collegia tenuiorum. Christians were certainly not all
slaves and people of low condition; but the social
equivalent of a Christian was a slave ; what was said of
a slave was said j>f a Christian also. On both sides
they honoured the same virtues, goodness, humility, re-

THE APOSTLES. 197

signation, sweetness. The judgment of Pagan authors
is unanimous on that point. All, without exception,
recognize in the Christian, the features of the servile
character ; indifference to great affairs, a sad and con
trite air, morose judgments upon the age, aversion to
games, theatres, gymnasia, baths.

In a word, the Pagans were the world; Christians
were not of the world. They were a little flock apart,
hated by the world, finding the world evil, seeking "to
keep themselves unspotted from the world." The ideal
of Christianity will be the reverse of that of the worldly
man. The perfect Christian will love abjection ; he will
have the virtues of the poor and the simple, of him who
does not seek to exalt himself. But he will also have
the defect of his virtues ; he will declare many things
to be vain and frivolous, which are not so at all ;
he will depreciate the universe ; he will be the enemy
of the admirer of beauty. A system where the Venus
of Milo is but an idol is a system, partial, if not false
for beauty, is almost as valuable as the good and the
true, A decadence of art is in any case inevitable with
such ideas. The Christian will not care to build well,
nor to sculpture well, nor to design well ; he is too ideal
istic. He will care little for knowledge ; curiosity seems
a .vain thing to him. Confounding the great volup
tuousness of the soul, which is one of the methods of
reaching the infinite, with vulgar pleasure, he will for
bid himself to enjoy it. He is too virtuous. »

Another law shows itself as dominatiDg this history.
The establishment of Christianity corresponds to the
suppression of political life in the world of the Mediterra
nean, Christianity was born and expanded itself at A
period when there was no such thing as patriotism. K
anything is wholly wanting to the founders of the
Church it is that quality. They are not Cosmopolitan ,
for, the 'whole planet is for them, but a place of exile .
they are idealistic in the most absolute sense. Oui
country is composed of body and soul. The soul : it*

198 THE APOSTLES.

memories, images, legends, misfortunes, hopes, common
regrets; the body: the soil, race, language, mountains,
rivers, characteristic products. Now, never were people
more detached from all that than the primitive
Christians. They did not hold to Judea ; at the end of
a few years they had forgotten Galilee ; the glory of
Greece and Borne was indifferent .to them. The
countries where Christianity first established itself,
Syria, Cyprus, Asia Minor, no longer remembered the
time when they had been free ; Greece and Rome had
still a great national sentiment. But in Rome patrio
tism was confined to the army and to some families ; in
Greece, Christianity fructified only in Corinth, a city,
which since its destruction by Mummius and its recon
struction by Caesar, was a collection of people of all
sorts. The true Greek countries then, as now, very
jealous, much absorbed by the memory of their past,
paid little attention to the new preaching ; they were
always indifferently Christian. On the contrary, those
soft, gay, voluptuous countries of Asia, countries of
pleasure, of free manners, of easy indifference, habituated
to take life and government from others, had nothing to
abdicate in the matter of pride and of traditions. The
ancient metropolitan cities of Christianity, Antioch,
Ephesus, Thessalonica, Corinth, Rome, were common
cities, if I may dare to say so, cities after the fashion of
modern Alexandria, into which poured men of all races,
and in which the marriage between man and the soil,
which constitutes a nation, was absolutely broken
through.

The importance given to social questions is always in
an inverse ratio to political pre-occupations. Socialism
rises when patriotism grows weak. Christianity was
the explosion of social and religious ideas for which the
world had been waiting, since Augustus put an end to
political conflicts. As with Islamism, Christianity
being a universal religion, will be at bottom the enemy
of nationalities. It will require many centuries and

APOSTLES. 199

many schisms before the idea takes root of forming
national churches with a religion, which was at first the
negation of all earthly countries, which was born at a
period when there were no cities and citizens in the
world, *and when the old rough and strong republics of
Italy and of Greece would surely have been expelled
from the State as a mortal poison.

And this was one of the causes of the greatness of
the new religion. Humanity is a varying, changeable
thing at the mercy of contradictory desires. Great is
the country ; its saints are the heroes of Marathon, of
Thermopylae, of Valmy, and of Fleurus. Country, how
ever, is not everything here below One is man and
Son of God before being Frenchman or German. The
Kingdom of God, eternal dream which will never be
torn from the heart of man, is a protest against a too
exclusive patriotism. The thought of an organization of
humanity in view of its greatest happiness and its moral
amelioration is Christian and legitimate. The State
knows but one thing — how to organise egotism. That
is not indifferent, for egotism is the most powerful and
the most assailable of human motives. But that is not
sufficient. Governments which have started with the
belief that man is swayed only by his instincts of
cupidity, are deceived. Devotion is as natural as egotism
to the man of a noble race, and the organization of de
votion, is religion. Let no one hope then to get
away from religion or from religious associations. Every
step in the progress of modern society has made the
need for them more imperious.

It is in this way that these accounts of strange events
may be for us full of both teaching and of example.
There is no need for delay over certain details which
the difference of time renders strange and eccentric.
When it is a question of popular beliefs there is always
an immense disproportion between the grandeur of the
idealism, which faith pursues, and the triviality of the
material circumstances, which we are called upon to

200 THE APOSTLES.

accept. Hence the particularity, with which in religious
history shocking details and acts like those of madnesa
may be mixed up with everything that is really sublime.
The monk who invented the holy ampulla was one of
the founders of the kingdom of France. Who would
efface from the life of Jesus the episode of the demoniac
in the country of the Gergesenes ? Never has man in
cold blood done the things that were done by Francis
of Assisi, Joan of Arc, Peter the Hermit, Ignatius Loyola.
Nothing is of more relative application than the word
" madness " as applied to the past of the human mind.
If we carried out the ideas which are current in our own
times there is not a prophet, not an apostle, not a saint,
who would not be locked up. The human conscience is
very unstable at times when reflection has not advanced ;
in these conditions of the soul it is by insensible transi
tions that good becomes evil, that the beautiful borders
upon the ugly, and that the ugly becomes the beautiful.
There is no possible justice towards the past if so much
is not admitted. A single divine breath penetrates all
history, and makes an admirable whole of it ; but the
variety of the combinations which the human faculties
may produce is infinite. The apostles differ less from
us than the founders of Buddhism, who were however,
nearer to us by language, and perhaps by race. Our
age has seen religious movements quite as extraordinary
as those of old times movements which have excited
quite as much enthusiasm, which have had already —
proportion being kept in view — more martyrs, and the
future of which is still uncertain. -*

I do not speak of the Mormons, a sect which is In some
respects so silly and so abject that it is hard to speak
of it seriously. It is, however, instructive to see in the
middle of the nineteenth century, thousands of men
living by miracle, believing with a blind faith in the
marvels, which, they say, they have seen and handled.
Th^ere is already a whole literature devoted to the
agreement between Mormonism and science ; what is

1HE APOSTLES. 201

better, that religion, founded as it is upon the most
silly impostures, has been able to accomplish miracles
of patience and self-abnegation ? In five hundred years
learned men will prove its divine origin by the miracles
of its establishment. Babism in Persia was a
phenomenon otherwise considerable. A gentle and
unpretentious man, a sort of modest and pious Spinoza,
has found himself almost against his own will raised to
the rank of miracle worker, of incarnation of the divine,
and has become the leader of a numerous, ardent and
fanatical sect, which has very nearly brought about a
revolution comparable to that of Islam. Thousands of
martyrs have run to him with joy before death. A day
unequalled perhaps in the history of the world was that
of the day of the great butchery which was made of the
babis of Teheran. " On that day were seen in the
streets and bazaars of Teheran," says a writer of un
doubted authority, " a spectacle which it svould seem
as if the population were likely never to forget. When
the conversation even yesterday turned upon thai
matter, you may judge of the admiration mixed witli
horror, which the crowd felt and which years have not
diminished. We saw advancing amongst the execu
tioners women and children, their flesh gashed all over
their bodies, with lighted and flaming wicks fixed in
their wounds. The victims were hauled along with
cords and forced to walk by strokes of the whip.
Children and women advanced singing a verse which
said : — ' Of a truth we come from God and return to
Him/ Their voices rose loudly above the profound
silence of the crowd. When one of the victims fell and
was forced to rise by blows from the whip or thrusts of
the bayonet, though the loss of blood, which ran over
all his limbs, left him yet a little strength, he began to
dance and to cry with an increase of enthusiasm; ' Of
a truth we come from God and we return to Him.'
Some of the children died during the journey. The
executioners cast their corpses under the feet of their

202 THE APOSTLES,

fathers and their sisters, who walked proudly over
them and did not glance twice at them. When they
arrived at the place of execution, the victims were
offered their lives on condition of abjuration. One
executioner took the fancy of saying to a father that if
he did not yield he would cut the throats of his two
sons upon his breast. They were two little lads, the
eldest of whom might have been about fourteen and
who, red with their own blood and with calcined flesh,
listened coolly to this dialogue. The father answered,
crouching on the ground, that he was ready, and the
elder of the boys, claiming with some import
ance his right of seniority, demanded to be slaugh
tered the first. At last all was finished ; night fell upon
a mass of mangled flesh ; heads were hung in baskets
to the scaffold of justice and the dogs of the suburbs
met in troops on that side of the city."

That happened in 1852. The sect of Mazdak under
Chosroes Nouschirvan, was suffocated in a similar
bath of blood. Absolute devotion is, for simple natures,
the most exquisite of joys and a species of necessity.
In the affair of the Bab, people who were hardly
members of the sect, came forward to denounce them
selves, so that they might be joined with the sufferers.
It is so sweet for man to suffer for something, that in
many cases the thirst for martydom causes men to
believe. A disciple who was companion of Bab at his
execution, hanged by his side on the ramparts of
Tabriz and momentarily expecting death, had only one
word in his mouth: — " Are you satisfied with me<
master ? *

The persons who consider as miraculous or chimerical
all that in history surpasses the calculations of ordinary
good sense, find such things inexplicable. The funda
mental condition of criticism is to know how to under
stand the varying conditions of the human mind.
Absolute faith is for us wholly out of the question.
Outside of the positive sciences, of a certainty in some

THE APOSTLES. 203

degree material, every opinion is in our eyes only
approximate, implying partial truth and partial error.
The proportion of error may be as small as you will ; it
is never reduced to zero when morals implying a ques
tion of art, of language, of literary form, or of persons
are concerned. Such is not the manner of seeing
things which narrow and obstinate spirits adopt
— Orientals for example. The eye of those people is
not like ours ; it is the glassy eye of men in mosaics-
dull and fixed. They can see only only a single thing
at a time ; that thing besets them, takes possession of
them ; they are not then masters of their beliefs or their
unbeliefs ; there is no room for a reflective after- thought.
For an opinion thus embraced a man will allow himself
to be killed. The martyrs in religion are what the party
man is in politics. Not many very intelligent men
have been made martyrs. The confessors of the time
of Diocletian would have been, after the peace of the
Church, wearisome and imperious personages. Men
are never very tolerant when they believe that they
are altogether right and the rest of the world al
together wrong.

The great conflagrations of religion, being the results
of a too definite manner of seeing things, thus became
enigmas for an age like ours, when the rigour of con
viction is weakened. With us the sincere man con
stantly modifies his opinions ; in the first place, because
the world changes, in the second, because the observer
changes also. We believe more things at the same
time. We love justice and truth ; for them we would
risk our lives ; but we do not admit that justice and
truth belong to a sect or a party. We are good French
men, but we admit that the Germans and the English
are superior to us in many ways. It is not thus at the
periods and in the countries where everyone belongs
with his whole nature to his communion, race, or political
school ; and this is why all great religious creations
have taken place in societies, the general spirit of

204 THE APOSTLES.

which was more or less analogous to that of the East.
Until now, in short, absolute faith only has succeeded
in imposing itself upon others. A good serving maid
of Lyons, named Blandina, who caused herself to be
killed for her faith at seventeen years of age, caused a
brutal brigand chief, Clovis, who found her to his taste
fourteen centuries ago, to embrace Catholicism, makes
laws for us to this day.

Who is there who has not, while passing through our
ancient towns which have become modern, stopped at the
feet of gigantic monuments of the faith of olden times?
All is externally renewed ; there is not a vestige of
ancient habits ; the cathedral remains, a little lowered in
height may be by the hand of man, but profoundly rooted
in the soil. Mole swa stat ! Its massiveness is its law. It
has resisted the deluge, which swept away everything
else around it ; not one of the men of old times return
ing to visit the places where he lived would find his
home again ; the crow alone, who has fixed his nest in
the heights of the sacred edifice, has not seen the
hammer threatening his dwelling. Strange prescription !
These honest martyrs, these rude converts, these pirate
church builders, rule us still. We are Christians because
it pleased theni to be so. As in politics it is the bar
barous foundations only that live, so in religion there
are only spontaneous, and, if I may dare to say so, fana
tical affirmations that can be contagious. This is because
religions are wholly popular works. Their success does
not depend upon the more or less convincing proofs of
their divinity which they bring forward ; their success
is in proportion to what they say to the heart of the
people.

Does it follow from thence that religion is destined
to diminish little by little, and to disappear like popular
errors concerning magic, sorcery, spirits ? Certainly not.
Religion is not a popular error j it is a great instinctive
truth, imperfectly seen by the people, expressed by the
people. All the symbols which serve to give a form to

THE APOSTLES

the religious sentiment are incomplete, and it is their
fete to be rejected one after another. But nothing ia
more false than the dream of certain persons, who,
seeking to conceive a perfect humanity, conceive it with
out religion. It is the very reverse which ought to be
said. China is a very inferior species of humanity, and
China has almost no religion. On the other hand, let
us suppose a planet inhabited by a humanity whose
intellectual, moral and physical power are double those
of terrestrial humanity, that humanity would be, at
least, twice as religious as ours. I say, at least, for it is
probable that the augmentation of the religious faculties
would take place in a more rapid progression than the
augmentation of the intellectual capacity, and would not
be done in a simple direct proportion. Let us so sup
pose a humanity ten times as strong as ours, that
humanity would be infinitely more religious. It is even
probable, that in that degree of sublimity, disengaged
from all material cares and from all egotism, gifted with
perfect tact, and a divinely delicate taste, seeing the
baseness and the nothingness of all that is not true, good,
or beautiful, man would be exclusively religious, plunged
in a perpetual adoration, rolling from ecstasies to
ecstasies, being born, living and dying, in a torrent of
bliss. Egotism, in short, which gives a measure of the
inferiority of being, diminishes in proportion, as the
animal is got rid of. A perfect being would be no
longer an egotist ; he would be altogether religious.
Progress then will have for its effect the increase of
religion and neither its destruction nor its diminution.

But it is time to return to our three missionaries,
Paul, Barnabas and John — Mark, whom we left at the
moment when they went out of AntiochVby the gate,
which led to Seleucia. In my third volume I will
endeavour to trace these messages of good news by land
and by sea, through calm and tempest, through gooti
and evils days. I am in haste to retell that unequalled
epic, to describe those infinite routes of Asia and of

206 SJ1E APOSTLES.

Europe by the side of which the seed of the gospel_ was
sown, those seas which they traversed so many times
under circumstances so Diverse. The great Christian
Odyessy is about to commence. Already the apostolic
barque has spread its sails ; the wind sighs and aspires
only to carry upon its wings the words of Jesus,

THE END.

THE HISTORY

OF THE

Origins of Christianity

IN SEVEN VOLUMES,
X3xr

(Member of the French Academy).

Book L The Life of Jesus

(Ready) ... Cloth Is. 6d

,, II. The Apostles

(Ready) ... Extra Cloth 2s. 6d.

,, III. Saint Paul

2s. 6d.

55 IV8 The Anti-Christ

2s. 6d.

,, V. The Gospels

(Ready in June) ... 2s. 6d.

,, VI. The Christian Church

(Ready in July) ... 2s. Cd.

„ VII. Marcus Aurelius

(Ready in August) ..«, 2s. 6d.

LONDON :

MATHIESON & Co., 25, Paternoster Row, B.C.

THE TEMPLE COMPANY'S

PUBLIC ATI O N 8.

By Prof. Edgeworth,

King's College

Metretike, or the Method oi Measuring
Probability and Utility.

Paper, 1 vol. ' Price ... 3s. 6d.
Ditto Cloth, 1 vol. Price ... 5s.

By Mrs. Gerald Greswell,

Eighteen Years on the Sandringham Estate^

Second Edition.

Paper, 1 vol. Price ... Is.

Ditto Cloth, 1 vol. Price ... Is. 6d.

By X His Mark, |

Autobiography of a Nonogenarian Puritan.

Boards. Price ... Is.

By W. St. Chad Boseawen,

F.H.S., and Lecturer at the British Museum.

From Under the Dust of Ages. Six Lectures

on Assyrian and Babylonian Antiquities.

Paper, 1 vol. Price ... Is.

Ditto Cloth, 1 vol. Price ... Is. Gd.

Sheol, and other Essays.

1 vol. Price ... Is.

LONDON I

THE TEM JL.E COMPANY, 6, BOOKSELLERS' ROW, W.C