The religions before Christ, being an introduction to the history of the first three centuries of the Church

1^

I-

y

THE

EEimiONS BEFORE CÏÏEIST.

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2011 with funding from

University of Toronto

http://www.archive.org/details/religionsbeforeOOpres

^ -^

^'^

THE

RELIGIONS BEFORE CHRIST:

BEING AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY

OF THE

FIRST THREE CENTURIES OF THE CHURCH.

BY

EDMOND DE PRESSENSE,

TASrOR OF THE FRENCH EVANGELICAL CHURCH, AND DOCTOR OF DIVINITr
OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BRESLAU.

TRANSLATED BV

L. CORKEAN.

WITII PREFACE BY THE AUTHOU, i "]/

\o pi

EDINBURGH: *^ ^

T. AND T. CLARK, 38, GEORGE STREET.

LONDON : HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO. DUBLIN : JOHN EOBERTSON.

iiDCCCLXIl.

\

Î

MURRAY AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.

PREFACE

TO THE

ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF THE INTRODUCTION.

The book I here present to the English public, through
the medium of a careful translation made by a friend,
forms part of an extensive work upon The History of the
First Three Centuries of the Churchy four volumes of which
have already appeared.

Before entering upon the details of the struggle be-
tween the new religion and the religions of the past, I
felt myself bound to draw up a fair statement, a balance-
sheet, of their respective forces, and to show what were
the resources, and what the obstacles, Christianity en-
countered in that old world which it was about to de-
stroy and to replace. Although this Introduction forms
a distinct part in itself, it is nevertheless closely con-
nected with the main body of the work. My readers
must also bear in mind that I do not pretend to give in
this Introduction the religious history of humanity be-
fore Jesus Christ, but simply a sketch of it.

The presiding idea of this portion of my work, is that
which animated Saint Paul in his discourse at Athens,
when he found, even in that focus of Paganism, reli-
gious aspirations tending to Jesus Christ. I have
endeavoured to show that the whole of the ancient

1 I'REFACE TO THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF

world, notwithstanding its depravity and shortcomings,
conckided by desiring and seeking " The Unknown
God," by demanding Him from all forms of worship,
from all schools of philosophy. The work of prepara-
tion in the pagan world consisted in the development
of this immense, this painful desire, — too often, alas !
sullied and alloyed ; but it was a flame kindled by God
Himself, and could not be extingiiished. It is thus
evident that I do not limit the work of preparation to
Judaism, though it was only in this privileged land of
Judea that this work was directly piu'sued. To the
Hebrew people alone, were confided the sacred oracles ;
they alone had prophets ; but nowhere was the human
soul abandoned by its Author : He who was its source,
never under any sky, ceased His action upon it. This
fact I have endeavoured to prove by the history of the
different religions.

T have raised no altar to human pride ; for I believe
no fact comes out more clearly from the study of the
different civilisations, than man's utter powerlessness
to save himself While, on the other hand, I know no-
thing more calculated to rejoice the Christian's heart,
than the firm persuasion that God has from the begin-
ning included the whole race of Adam in His beneficent
designs, and that, as Saint Paul says, ' He hath deter-
mined the times before appointed, and the bounds of
their habitation.'

These ideas were dear to the Church of the first
centimes, and were formalized in the boldest manner
by Justin Martyr and Clement of Alexandria. It would
be well if they could in our day be recovered from
oblivion. Now, when modern science is resuscitating
the religions of ancient Asia from the grave in which
they seemed to be for ever sealed up, and throwing
a new light upon the more virile religions of the West,
it is of the last importance that it should be proved, by

THE INTRODUCTIOX. 6

an exact, serupiiloiis study of facts, that Jesus Christ,
the Christ of the Scriptures, the Eternal Son of God,
the Redeemer, was truly, as the prophets expressed,
' The Desired of nations.' In proving this, we prove
that He is essentially the desired of every soul of
man, that there is a profound affinity between con-
science and Him, and that Tertullian was not mistaken
when he wrote the Testimonium animœ Naturaliter
Christianœ.

It is in this direction, already opened up by so many
noble minds belonging to our cotemporary Church, that
I desire to see the defence of Christianity engaged, at a
moment when faith in supernaturalism is so profoundly
shaken throughout the world. We do not weaken in
the smallest degree the supernatural element by seek-
ing what are its points of contact with conscience, and
by proving that man, who could not rise to revelation,
was nevertheless made for it, and tended towards it,
with all that subsisted in him, notwithstanding the
degradation of his fall, of that original nature, which
Saint Paul did not hesitate to proclaim divine.

' Whoever will do the will of God,' says the Master,-
' will know that My doctrine is of God.' The moral
road is then the royal road that leads to Christ : this is
my profound conviction, and it breathes through every
page of my Essay. If my work contribute in the
smallest degree to the defence of the eternal Gospel, at
a crisis of time whose gravity it would be madness to
dissemble, and in this noble Protestant England, to-
wards which the evangelical Christians of the whole
world look as to the bulwark of the Reformation, it
must be to me a profound source of happiness.

EDMOND DE PRESSENSÉ.

Paris, November 18G1.

THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTIANITY,

INTRODUCTION.

It is impossible to retrace the triumph of Christianity
in the first ages of our history, without referring to that
ancient world which it came to destroy. If it found
that old world armed at all points for the combat, and
ready to turn against it the vast resources of a refined
civilisation, without neglecting the employment of ma-
terial force — this last resort of waning faiths, it was not
wanting in points of contact with the society of the
time. The new religion did not break upon the earth as
a sudden, abrupt event, unconnected with the past. It
was, to a certain degree, the outcome of the whole reli-
gious history of humanity. Christianity was the answer
of Heaven to the aspirations of earth. It brought to
the wearied world the solution that the Zoroasters and
Platos had sought after and caught glimpses of It
was at once divine and human — profoundly human,
precisely because it was divine : that is to say, adapted
by God Himself to man's real necessities. It will not,
therefore, suffice to contemplate the heaven from which
it came. We must also consider the earth on which it
took footing. Without in the smallest degree sacrific-
ing its divine origin, we may acknowledge the harmony
existing between it and human nature. It was made

6 THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTIANITY.

for human nature, as human nature was made for it :
so much so, that while rejecting it, and often cursing
it, human nature proves, even by its agitation, that it
cannot dispense with it. The history of the rehgions
of human origin is the most striking proof of the agree-
ment of revealed religion with the soul of man ; for, on
the one side, each of these forms of worship is the ex-
pression of the wants of conscience, its eternal thirst
after pardon and restoration — rather, let us say, its thirst
after God. On the other hand, their succession proves
their insufficiency, and the necessity of a higher re-
ligious form, which would supersede them, and in which
humanity might find rest. To isolate it, then, com-
pletely from the past, would be to voluntarily refuse to
comprehend the nature of Christianity, and the extent
of its triumph. Although the Gospel is not, as has been
affirmed, the produce of anterior civilisations — a mere
compound of the Greek and Oriental elements,^ it is
not the less certain that it brings to the human mind
the satisfaction vainly sought by it in the East as in
the West. Omnia subito is not its device, but rather
that of the gnostic heresy. Better to say, with Clement
of Alexandria and Origen, that the night of Paganism
had its stars to light it, and that they called to the
morning star which stood over Bethlehem. These are
the manifestations of the human conscience, which has
always borne its testimony, and never been without its
witness, even in times of thickest darkness. Far from
despising them, let us piously gather them up. The
worst sort of tactics would be to reject this noble ally
given by God to the religion of Christ.

The study of the history of the ancient world is like-
wise important from another point of view. Chris-
tianity found in it not only vigorous foes or latent

^ This thesis was ably advocated by M. facherot, in his work on the
Alexandrian School.

INTRODUCTION. 7

sympathy, but, according to a strange law, by which
the vanquished almost always end in exercising over
the victors an influence, the greater because least sus-
pected, we shall see the ancient world, at the moment
that all things announced its defeat, rhorally regain the
ground it had externally lost. Heresy was nothing but
a hypocritical reaction of Paganism against Christianity.
With what care the fathers of the second and third
centuries strove to unmask it, that it might appear
plain to all eyes that, under a Christian disguise, false
doctors were endeavouring to bring into the Church a
perfidious enemy, as one might introduce a traitor into
a besieged town ! ' Like those who repair old clothes,'
says Saint Hippolyte, with familiar energy, ' the heretics
are giving an air of novelty to what is most worn out in
Paganism.'-^ The reaction of the ancient world did not
stop there. It not only raised up different heresies,
which were in turn crushed, but it in many respects
succeeded in infiltering its spirit into the Church —
altering its dogma, falsifying its morals, if not in an
absolute manner, yet sufficient to remove it far from its
primitive type. If, then, it is important, in order to
understand the central place of Christianity in history,
to know the circumstances that prepared its advent, it
is not less so to know what was destined, at a later
period, to modify it. Thus the task of this Introduc-
tion is twofold. We have to show, in the development
of the religions of antiquity, the successive phases of
preparation for Christianity; then to seek, imder the
different symbols which enveloped without ever con-
cealing it, the first principle of Paganism, the old
dualism, that eternal temptation of the human mind
even in the Church. In fine, we shall have to charac-
terize Judaism, the appointed precursor of Christianity,
but which failed in its divine mission from the moment

' O; v,ipî(jiàû'/^cii otKYt'j T^ciKocioppot^oyj. — Philosoph. 94.

8 THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTUNITV.

it endeavoured to survive it, or to perpetuate itself
under its shadow. It will then be easy for us to de-
termine the real nature of definite religion. We shall
know both the support and the obstacles it encountered
in the old world, which it replaced, and which was not
unfrequently restored by its unfaithful interpreters.

The most singular theories have been conceived of
the religious development of humanity up to the time
of Christianity. Some — ^the worthy successors of Evhe-
mere — have seen in the religions of antiquity a sym-
bolical reproduction of the great facts of history, or the
phenomena of nature. Dupuis, the most celebrated and
most learned of these writers on myths, saw a sort of
elementary astronomy in the different religions ; and
Christianity itself was, in his eyes, but a more perfect
theory of the movement of the stars. ^

Others, availing themselves of the labours of modern
criticism, and freed from the narrow prejudices of the
eighteenth century, while at the same time possessing
the aesthetic sense in the highest degree, declare that it
is degrading these religions to make them simply the
symbols of nature and history. To these writers they
are the spontaneous creations of conscience, thus power-
fully manifesting its want of an ideal. But, as they
fail in showing clearly in what this ideal consists, as
the divine and moral idea are lost in vagueness, we
obtain no guiding thread to direct us through the rich
confusion of ancient mythologies, and find it impossible
to comprehend their origin. They are but the curious
play — often an attractive one — of the imagination of
man at its first awakening, the expression of his first
enchantment in presence of the delicious spectacle of a
world still young. ^ It is evident that this theory marks

^ Dupuis, De l'Origine de tous les Cultes.

2 Renan, Etudes d'Histoire Religieuse^ Paris, 1857. Voir, l'Etude sur
les Religions de l'Antiquité.

INTRODUCTION. 9

no notable progress in the philosophic appreciation of
the various systems of religion. They succeed each
other without any binding link between them ; without
possessing any internal reason for their development.
Mythologies sprung up and disappeared like brilliant
flowers, made for a season to shed their beauty and
their perfume. Herder, in his famous work, translated
by M. Quinet, endeavours to account for the difference
in the various religions, by the difference in the circum-
stances in which they were produced. ' The history of
all humanity,' he says, ' is but the natural history of a
system of forces, of doctrines, of human dispositions in
relation with time and place. '^ Such a theory cannot
satisfy us. It exaggerates the dependence of mind on
matter, by chaining the conscience to the condition of
time and space. Benjamin Constant — in this the pupil
of Rousseau — entertains a higher idea of those religions.
They give, according to him, a popular form to the
eternal revelation of conscience. The symbols may vary,
they may even at times be unworthy of the substance
they should express ; but this substance is ever identi-
cal. In reality, he says, there is but one single religion,
the natural and universal, whose manifestations are
modified according to outward circumstances, but whose
essence is always the same. This theory is developed
with equal art and eloquence by the illustrious writer.'^
But neither does this satisfy us ; for it fails to explain
the succession of creeds fundamentally different ; and
under pretext of distinguishing the essential from the
accidental — the moral idea from the myths and forms
that envelope it, suppresses the history, the original
development of religion. The evolution of the human

1 Herder, Idées sur la Philosophie de l'Histoire de l'Humanité. Traduit
par E. Quinet. 1824.

2 Benjamin Constant, De la Religion considérée à sa Source, ses Formes,
et son Développement.

1 0 THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTIANITY.

conscience is overlooked. The same omission we find
in the vast Mythological Encyclopaedia of Creuzer,
which has been completed in so erudite a manner by
M. Guigniavit/ and which has become a precious and
indispensable resource for those who devote themselves
to the study of the ancient systems of religion. ' The
symbols that are at the basis of the different forms of
religion,' we read in the Introduction, ' are the vague
expression of the sentiment, that nature is essentially
an animated being, and that natural phenomena are the
signs by means of which nature speaks to man. Priests
reduced and fixed this language in symbols.'^ We do
not think that in this direction we shall succeed in
establishing a real gradation in the different religious
systems. There is only the difference of symbols — the
things signified are identical. This cannot supply us
with a history of the mythologies.

Pantheistic philosophy pretends to furnish us with
this history ; but no fixed point is given us in this
vortex of incessant change that whirls before our eyes.
The Absolute, according to this system, one and iden-
tical with the world, is carried away by the torrent of
active contingent life, which is its own life. The his-
tory of religion is not simply the history of man's con-
ceptions of God : as, outside these conceptions, God
would not exist, it is in reality the history of the deter-
mination of God. God, in appearing to the human con-
science, appears to himself; that is to say, he has for
the first time a consciousness of himself The vigorous
dialectic of a philosopher of genius cannot, however,
prevail against the sovereign prescription of the moral
conscience.^ Religion disappears with the personal

' Religions de l'Antiquité considérées principalement dans leurs Formes
Symboliques. Traduit de l'Allemand par J. B. Guigniaut. 1835, 1851.

2 Tome i. 14.

3 Religions Philosophie (W. W. xi. et xii.), 1832 ; 2d Edition, 1840.
See the excellent analysis given of it by M. Erdmann, Geschichte der neueren

INTRODUCTION. 1 1

God. From the pantheist's point of view there can
be no history of reUgion ; and we might conclude, with
Fuerbach, that the best of all is but a dream, the illu-
sion of a man adoring himself while he believes he is
prostrating himself before his Creator.

The advocates of Christianity place themselves at
very different points of view in their appreciations of
Paganism. We have already alluded to the large and
profound ideas of the Alexandrian fathers on this sub-
ject. We shall have too frequently to recur to them in
the course of this history, to enter now into details.
They agreed with Justin Martyr, in admitting that a ray
from the Divine Word shone in the human soul, and that
it turned towards the light of God as a plant turns to-
wards the sun. ^ These fathers carefully collected every
portion of truth contained in the old religions and philo-
sophies; and, while admitting a certain amount of Judaic
influence upon Greece, they likewise believed that the
human soul had a presentiment of the precious blessing
that it was unable to procure for itself

Theodoret, in his curious apologetic work, at a later
period exposes the same point of view with equal
grace and precision.^ ' Obey,' he says, in address-
ing the Greeks, — ' obey your own philosophers ; let
them be your initiators ; for they announced before-
hand our doctrines.'^ It is true that Theodoret adds,
that ' those philosophers are like birds, that hear
human language without understanding its meaning.'

Philosophie, 3d vol., 2d part, p. 822. We find traces of these theories in M.
Quinet's work upon Le Génie des Religions, of which a new edition has just
been brought out. The recent publications of this learned writer incline us
to believe that, were he now to write this book for the first time, the influ-
ence of German pantheism would not predominate to the same degree.

^ Clement, Aoyoç TrporéTrriKOç, ch. vi.

2 Theodoret. Episcop. Cyri. Grsecorum affectionum Curatio, tome iv. des
Œuvres. Edit. Paris, mdcxviii.

^ YiiiÔYiTî roluvv rolç vf^tripoiç (piMaoipol; 7rpoTS>^ova'tu vy.xç Kui rù '^f^iripcc
TpohihuuKovfjiu. — P. 483.

12 THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTIANITY.

Nevertheless, it is not that they are destitute of all
divine light. In the depths of human nature, there
are characters inscribed by the hand of God/ The
Divine Creator did not suffer these to be totally ef-
faced, but renewed them in some degree amongst
the best of the pagans. If the race of Abraham
received the divine law and the gift of prophecy, the
God of the universe led other nations to piety by
natural revelation and the spectacle of nature.^ If the
rain from heaven waters by preference cultivated fields,
still God, in His abundant liberality, lets it fall also on
solitary places and barren hills. And so it is with the
gift of truth, bestowed first upon the chosen people, yet
is scattered in a certain measure amongst all people, as
the rain waters the desert places.

Most of the fathers of the Church professed, on the
subject of Paganism, views very difierent from those of
the schools of Alexandria and Antioch. They contented
themselves with attributing to the demon the invention
of these myths, which were the legitimate objects of their
aversion, as well as the pretended miracles of the pagan
divinities ; or they adopted the explanations of Evhe-
mere. Modern apologists are divided into two camps.
The one side, in order to enhance the revelation given
to the Jews, have so darkened the picture of ancient
Paganism, that not one luminous point is visible :
outside of Judea they allow no spark of divine life.
The other, the traditional school, brilliantly represented
under the Restoration by Bonald and Lamennais, be-
lieved that they discovered the primitive religion of
humanity under the impure myths of Greece and of the
East. This religiqn, communicated by revelation to
man at his creation, was substantially preserved by all

483.

^ ' riç n ipYjfAùvç 6 ùstôç. — p. 484.

INTRODUCTION. 13

people, and to tradition alone is to be attributed all the
truth that has ever been in the world. ^

Error is closely mixed up with truth in these two
schools. It is an undoubted fact, that the Jews had
the inestimable advantage over all other people, of being
guided in their march towards the great future promised
to humanity by a divine revelation. But it is not true
that all other nations were abandoned to themselves.
We find in their history, and especially in their religious
history, the clear traces of this preparatory work accom-
plished by God. On the other hand, although it cannot
be contested that, at the Dispersion, men carried with
them a common fund of recollection, yet is it an outrage
on human nature to reduce to the mere operation of
memory all progress towards truth. Conscience is not
a parchment, passively receiving what is inscribed upon
it, but a living organ ; and we entirely subscribe to
Schelling's grand idea, that the formation of the suc-
cessive religions reveal to us the great crises of the
human conscience. If we cannot admit, with him, that
the history of the mythologies is a sort of repetition of
the history of creation in the mind of man, who by the
fall became subject to nature, and only able by degrees
to rise from the lowest to the highest scale, where he
may again find the life of the spirit ; if it appears to us
that he justifies this daring theory by still more daring
explanations of the different myths ; yet his general
view seems to us full of beauty. Yes, the different
religions, which bear the impress of the fall, also mark
the progress of the work of restoration ; they are land-
marks on the road humanity has followed in its return
to God, who awaits it — rather, let us say, to the God
who comes to meet it.

^ A Protestant writer of learning and elevation, M. de Rougemont, has
developed analogous theories in his work, entitled, ' Le Peuple Primitif,' 3d
vol. Paris, Cherbuliez, 1855-57.

14 THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTIANITY.

We do not mean to enter into all the ramifications of
the great problem of the fall. To us, it is an established
fact, broadly written in the world and in history. Find-
ing it impossible, without doing violence to our con-
science, to assimilate evil to a natural imperfection,
which would be but a step in the scale of progress, we
attribute its origin, not to the necessary conditions of a
finite being, but to the evil determinations of man's will.
He took part against God, at that mysterious epoch
which precedes history, and which comprehends the
solemn trial through which he, like every moral crea-
ture called to the serious exercise of liberty, must pass.
If his fall was great, it was not absolute ; not that man
was not ruined by it, but he was not left destitute of
all higher life. He retained some vestige of his primal
nature. A sense of the divine, a religious aptitude,
the longing to return to God, — these subsist in his
heart. It is these that render his redemption possible ;
for the moral law, which had been vindicated by the
terrible consequences of the fall, is maintained in all its
integrity in the restoration of the fallen creature. A
certain harmony was necessary between man and the
God who desired to save him. Had his nature been
thoroughly perverted, no contact could have been pos-
sible ; he would not have had the capacity to receive
the gift destined for him, which was nothing less than
the gift of God Himself! — the only mode of repairing
the fall of a being created in His image, and formed
to possess Him. Thus, as soon as salvation was deter-
mined by the sovereign liberty of Him who is Sove-
reign Love, man was subjected to a gradual education
in order to prepare him for the reception of this in-
estimable gift, — the first step of which was, that he
should be led to desire it. The whole work of salvation
consisted, then, in developing the desire of salvation,
which is no other than the desire of again finding God.

INTRODUCTION. 15

But man's heart cannot be moulded as clay ; liberty
implies the possibility on his part to retard the divine
plan. Accordingly, this preparation proceeds, not in
an inflexibly straight line, but in an incessantly broken
one ; terrible falls mar it, and there are delays which
involve centuries. Nevertheless the work goes on ; for
it is the work of Infinite Love, whose patience is un-
wearying because it is eternal. The whole history of
humanity gravitates round this great thought of salva-
tion, which is its pole, often hid, but ever present.

Humanity before Jesus Christ may be divided into
two categories : one, a privileged minority, placed under
the immediate direction of God. This was the Jewish
theocracy. Later on, we shall show how this privilege
was in reality in the interest of the whole race. The
mass of mankind was only apparently abandoned by
God. We should be on our guard against supposing
that the historical revelation was God's sole mode of
acting on the human soul : He exercises upon it a
direct and invisible action, which is universal, and
which pagan nations were partakers of The Divine
Spirit moved over these sullied waters, whence at a
later period was to spring a new world, and in which
it never ceased planting the seeds of a higher life.
Preparation for salvation amongst these nations did
not consist, as it did with Israel, in a succession of posi-
tive revelations ; they were subjected to another educa-
tion,— to that of experience under the superintendence
and direction of God, albeit often compromised by the
aberrations of liberty. By this means these nations like-
wise were led to the great aspiration, which was the one
possible and useful result of the work of preparation.

In order that the desire of salvation should attain its
full intensity, two things were necessary : first, that the
object of this desire should be determined with an ever
increasing definiteness ; and, in the second place, that

1 G THE ANCIENT WORLD AND CHRISTIANITY.

the impossibility of man's ever attaining it by his
own unaided endeavours should be irresistibly evident.
These two conditions were realized in the history of
the pagan religions. The desire of redemption mani-
fested itself at first in a confused, but powerful manner.
Hardly is a people constituted, than we find among
them a religion — a form of worship, altars, sacrifices ;
thus expressing man's inherent want, to restore the
once subsisting union between himself and the Divinity.
Pagan religions, gross though they may have been,
were nevertheless religions, and as such were the
endeavours of man to re-attach himself to a superior
power, on whom he was dependent. He was unable to
find satisfaction in yielding himself to the enjoyments
of material life. Nor could he do so with security
until he had deified it. This deification is no doubt
abominable ; but it proves how invincibly rooted in man
is this want of a God, since, rather than make an
abstraction of it, he transfers to matter the attributes
of divinity. But he cannot rest there : his religious
craving being unquenched, and growing keener after
each deception, he goes through the series of the reli-
gions of nature without ever having reached the world
of spirit. He at last rises one degree, and invents a
religion whose divinities are in his own likeness. This
deification of humanity leads him to the limits of a
higher world. What he now adores, although not
God, approximates him closer to Him than did nature.
The moral idea takes possession of him ; he has a
glimpse of the true Divinity, and a presentiment of a
holier union with Him. In tracing the evolution of
the ancient creeds, we are tracing that side of the
work of preparation which consisted in rendering more
precise and definite the desire of salvation, in disengag-
ing it from a voluptuous pantheism, and in penetrating-
it with the moral element. But this moral element is

INTRODUCTION. 1 7

destructive of all that preceded it. As soon as it finds
entrance into man's conscience, it renders Paganism
impossible. Paganism, therefore, sinks under what ap-
peared to form its triumph. Once having attained its
highest form, it could exist no longer. The religious
edifice of the ancient world was rent at the summit ;
however brilliant and dexterous were the attempts at
reconstruction, its ruin was irremediable. Ancient
Paganism took many centuries to die out completely.
All its gods were for a moment collected in the Roman
Pantheon, only that they might perish together amid
the maledictions and mockery of humanity, tired and
disgusted with its idols, while sending up to heaven,
from amid its impure wrecks, a confused but passionate
prayer of sorrow towards the unknown God. To paint
the decline of Paganism, after having described its pro-
gress, is to represent the second side of the work of
preparation, — that which was destined to bring home
to man his religious impotency. This picture of the
ancient world must necessarily be abridged, being con-
fined to the limits of an introduction. We shall not
forget that not alone in their religious creeds is this to
be sought, but in the whole course and progress of their
philosophic labours, in their works of art, and in the
national life of the different people.

B

PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN
PAGANISM.

I. ORIENTAL PAGANISM.

In breaking loose from the law of the moral world,
man falls under the dominion of the lower world ; his
equilibrium is lost; that which should govern being
enslaved, that which should be in subjection obtains
dominion. The sensual life stifles the spiritual. The
soul, separated from God, has lost its power over the
body, and learns by its own degradation that its force
lay in submission. This fatal disorder is not limited
to the individual, but is realized on a large scale in all
humanity, whose conscience is perverted, whose reli-
gious sense is falsified. Thus, when removed by suc-
cessive migrations from his original birth-place, man
retained but a confused recollection of his origin, while
the creeds he invented bore the impress of gross mate-
rialism. Although feeling the deep instinct of his
dependence upon a higher and mysterious power from
which he could not escape, yet he failed to seek this
power above Nature, stopping at its first manifesta-
tions therein ; and before Nature he prostrated himself
After man's fall. Nature was the first object of his wor-
ship. The various forms of the worship of Nature
exactly correspond with the perversion of his moral
being, and distinctly mark the triumph of the senses
over the soul. Sad signs of man's degradation ! We
might look upon them as the sure vengeance of an
offended God, could God know any other vengeance
than that of love which overcomes evil by good.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 19

All those forms of worship rest upon the same basis.
The moral world was to them a sealed book. Man is
not brought face to face with the laws of conscience, but
placed in contact with the forces of Nature, where a
twofold power manifests itself, — at one moment over-
flowing with profuse life, the next, furiously destroying
every germ. Here, a prodigal, laughing mother pour-
ing out her treasures into the lap of all, making the
radiant sun to shine, sending the flowers of spring, and
the fruits of summer and autumn, communicating her
fertility to all that moves on earth, and being herself
the source of all felicity and enjoyment. Then again
she appears as a malevolent, cruel power, blasting every-
thing,— the power of death and destruction, seen in the
blackness of night and the killing frost of winter.

The religions of Nature are thus hedged within the
circle of an inflexible dualism. These contrary forces
are necessary forces, eternally opposed, but never des-
tined to yield one to the other. What remained, was
to bow down and to adore them equally. Man was
not yet prepared to honour the Divinity by the prac-
tice of justice. The best homage to the gods he had
chosen for himself, was evidently to resemble them :
thus we find him giving himself up without restraint
to sensual enjoyments in order to glorify the beneficent
power of Nature, or subjecting himself to voluntary
suflerings and sanguinary rites in order to glorify or
appease the malevolent power. The worship of the
religions of Nature must always be a worship at once
voluptuous and barbarous, in which infamous pleasures
blend with infamous cruelty. The nearer we approach
the origin of these religions, the more palpable becomes
this double characteristic ; we shall find them, later
on, approximating the moral world, almost reaching it
through a transparent symbolism ; we shall see them
elsewhere giving infinite proportions to this dualism.

20 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

in assigning the whole of the visible world to the power
of evil. Arrived at this point, the religions of Nature
had run through their cycle, and nothing remained for
them but to disappear before other creations of con-
science ; they had given the death-blow to their own
principle, by laying down as their ultimate conclusion
the destruction and annihilation of Nature. It is this
cycle we now propose to rapidly survey, ever keeping in
view the groundwork common to all these forms of wor-
ship, whilst carefully indicating their special peculiarities.
These peculiarities did not solely depend on the evolu-
tion of the religious sentiment, but on external circum-
stances as well. If it is false and offensive to man to
maintain that his creeds are invariably determined by
his external surroundings, — that they are the result of
the climate and soil he inhabits, — that, in short, his reli-
gious ideas are but a sort of symbolical geography ; it
is not the less true that the conditions in which Provi-
dence has placed him exercise a powerful influence upon
him, once he has made himself the slave of Nature. It
is not in an abstract manner that he contemplates the
forces of Nature. These forces assume in each country
a certain aspect ; and it is this aspect he reproduces in
his creeds, which in the last residuum are but the
reflection of the grand scenes of which he is the
daily spectator. But if it be so, it is that he willed it.
Man himself forged the yoke he bears. If he is the
slave of external circumstances, of the accidents and
phenomena of Nature, it is because he refused that free
obedience to God which would have secured to the
world the dominion of mind and liberty. We are not
therefore to be surprised if we find in each form of
worship the peculiar features of the country which gave
it birth.'

^ We desire here to make two preliminary remarks. The first is, that we
consider those rehgioiis alone which underwent a certain elaboration, leav-

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 21

THE RELIGIONS OF WESTERN ASIA.

Under the burning sky of Asia, in the midst of a
splendid nature, where the powers of production mani-
fest themselves by immense fertility, but where also
the powers of destruction strike their incessant and
fearful blows, — in this country of the sun and of the
hurricane, where flourish the vine and the fig-tree, the
cedar and sycamore, but which at the same time is
devastated by appalling scourges from the simoom of
the desert to plague and leprosy, — on this half-privi-
leged, half-vexed land, from Babylon to Arabia and
Syria, as in Palestine and Phrygia, the same religion
prevailed, varying in some degree its symbolism in the
different nations, but all carrying dualism to its ex-
treme consequences. Here, however, there was no line
of demarcation separating the two powers of Nature,
and the same force is by turns benign and cruel. It is
the same sun that leads on the spring, which burns in
summer, which alternately revives and destroys vege-
tation, and which even strikes down man himself
Thus in those primitive religions the same divinities
are at once beneficent and malevolent. The funda-
mental idea of the Asiatic form of worship is the adora-
tion of the sun and moon, considered as the personifi^
cation of the general forces of Nature. By an easily
tfnderstood anthropomorphism, the astral divinities are
classified into two series — the male and female divini-

ing aside that grosser fetichism which is the lowest stage of idolatry, and
which corresponds with the purely savage state. Our second remark is,
that we only speak of those nations which were brought directly or in-
directly in contact with primitive Christianity, and who co-operated
towards the formation of the religious and social conditions in the midst of
which Christianity was produced. It is easy to mark the place of the dif-
ferent nationalities, which we pass over in silence, in the scale of ancient
Paganism, such as we have traced it. As to Western Paganism, in Gaul
and Germany, we shall have to speak of it in our account of the Christian
missions of the first centuries.

22 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

ties. In all those religions, death and voluptuousness
play an important part, and abominable symbols figure
conspicuously in their rites. Having pointed out what
they had in common, let us next endeavour to deter-
mine their points of difference.

At the two extremities of the zone wherein these
primitive religions prevailed, we find forms of worship
less sensual than in the intermediate space. In the
vast plains spreading out at the foot of the Caucasus
lived a warlike and half-savage race, whose cruel
instincts were developed by their rude and nomadic
existence. The young Scythian was bound to drink
the blood of the first enemy whose life he had taken ;
and he who had not drunk of this horrible draught
was condemned to sit apart in the great festivals pre-
sided over by the chiefs of the tribe. The principal
divinities of this people were the god of heaven, or
Papaios, and the divinity of earth, or Tahiti. Accord-
ing to the Oriental practice, they adored separately,
under different names, the various attributes of their
great divinities. Thus they had a goddess of love and
a god of war, which personified in a definite form the
two great forces of Nature. Their temperament and
mode of life led them to cede the first place to the war-
god, to whom they built no temples, but whom they
worshipped under the image of a sword, and to whom
they immolated by thousands the prisoners taken in
war.

At the other extremity of the zone we find the
nomadic tribes of Arabia. Intrepid, warlike, and inha-
biting a more favoured country, — one producing myrrh
and precious stones, and brought by commerce into
contact with the people of Asia, — we do not find in them
the cruel instincts of the Scythian, nor the unbridled
sensuality of the Babylonians or Phrygians. They also
adored a twofold divinity : a male divinity, the god of

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 23

heaven, beneficent as light and terrible as the hurri-
cane ; and a female divinity, the symbol of fecundity,
sometimes represented under the form of the earth and
sometimes as the moon. The Arabs were the first to
extend to the stars the worship offered to the sun and
moon. The star-lit sky shines down upon the desert
with incomparable splendour; a vivifying freshness
breathes over the burning sand as soon as the stars
kindle up the azure heavens ; and it is they that guide
the traveller in his nocturnal wanderings through those
vast solitudes. To the Arab, the stars represented
the beneficent side of Nature, and he attributed to
them a powerful influence over man's fate. Upon the
tops of hills he adored the god of heaven; while the
goddess of fecundity, he believed, inhabited the green
trees. He also attached particular value to certain
stones. The god Baal, which the Midianites and Ama-
lekites worshipped on high places, was the Arab's god
of heaven.

The Babylonian form of worship resembled in many
respects that of the Arabs of the desert, but modified
by the sensual character of the people. The Chaldeans,
who had come down from the mountains into the plains,
and had been the civilisers of the country, formed the
sacerdotal caste. Like the Arabs, living under the pure
magnificence of a starry sky, and holding constant com-
munication with these nomadic conquerors, they were
penetrated with the thought that the affairs of earth
were regulated by the movements of the heavenly
bodies, and were thus led to astrology. They gave the
name of Bel to their supreme god, which they repre-
sented under the form either of the sun or the planet
Saturn; and the goddess of fecundity, we find repre-
sented sometimes as the moon and sometimes as
the planet Yenus, and worshipped by them under
the name of Melitta. The beneficent and malevolent

24 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

sides of nature were united in these two great divi-
nities. The Babylonian reUgion attributed a sinister
influence to two of the seven planets ; two others they
regarded as auspicious ; whilst the three remaining ex-
erted a mixed influence, sometimes good and sometimes
bad. The sun's course was divided into twelve stations,
each bearing the name of some animal, which also desig-
nated the month of the year. The days of the week
were called by the names of the different planets. The
rites performed in their acts of worship were of a most
infamous character, — prostitution playing a conspicuous
part ; every woman being bound, once at least in her
life, to yield herself to the embraces of a stranger in the
Temple of Melitta.^ Dwelling in a fertile soil, possess-
ing a brilliant, even a refined civilisation, and enriched
by vast conquests, the Babylonians developed the sen-
sual side of the religion of Nature.

In Phoenicia and Syria, this primitive dualism reached
its most finished form. These were the richest coun-
tries of Western Asia. Instead of the monotony of
the immense plains of Mesopotamia, the land is in-
tersected by hills and mountains ; and being bounded
by the sea, its inhabitants were enabled to carry
on relations with other parts of the world. Accord-
ingly, we find that civilisation there attained an ex-
traordinary pitch : as inventors of the art of writing,
and possessing a genius for commerce, we are all
acquainted with the fact of the high culture of the an-
cient Phoenicians. Unlike the Babylonians and Arabs,
they were not a contemplative people, and were less
preoccupied by the heavens and the stars than by the
earth and its contrasts. They endeavoured to paint the
struggle between the opposite forces of Nature rather
than seek to read man's fortune in the stars. The two
fundamental divinities of all the Asiatic religions are

1 Herodotus i. 189.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. '25

likewise at the basis of Phoenician worship. The god
of heaven, the active, masculine principle, they desig-
nated by the name of Baal or Dagon ; the goddess of
earth they adored under the name of Baaltis. But
their mythological system is much more highly elabo^
rated. The various attributes of these vague and fluc-
tuating divinities, which are elsewhere confounded in a
sort of hermaphrodism, are here personified and indi-
vidualized with great art. Baal is presented under two
clearly defined aspects : the productive force, when he
is Adonis ; and the destructive, Moloch. Sometimes,
by a subtler distinction, he appears as the preserving
power; whence his name, Baal-67i6>?2; but this aspect is
involved in the first. Thus we see how clearly marked
was Phoenician dualism.^ The female divinity under-
went similar transformations, under the names of Ashera
or Astarte, according as she appeared under her volup-
tuous or her severe aspect. Baal, as Adonis, represents
the beneficent rays of the sun in that delicious period
when he diffuses fertility over the earth — the vernal
spring. Baal-Moloch, on the contrary, personifies the
devouring burning fire of the summer sun. The fable
of Adonis' death, torn by the wild boar, is the symbol
of the transition from spring to the burning sterile
heats. The summer sun is the wild boar of Mars,
which devours the beautiful youth, — the graceful em-
blem of Nature in her first freshness.

The funeral ceremonies, which lasted seven days,
during which the women cut off their locks and wept
for Adonis,^ were intended to represent Nature's lament,
as, later on, his resurrection was represented by joyful
festivities. Moloch, the terrible god, exacted human
victims. Young children were sacrificed to him, burned
upon his altar. Thus voluptuousness and death were

^ Mover's Die Phœuicer, i. 180, 181.

^ See Ezek. viii. 14. The Thammuz wept for by the women isxVdonicj.

2{) PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

blended in these rites, to which the prophets so fre-
quently referred/

At Tyre, the two sides of Nature personified in
Baal and Moloch were united in one single divinity.
The Tyrian Hercules, or Melkarth, was both creator and
destroj^er, having the attributes of Baal and Moloch.
He also is represented under the twofold aspect of the
terrible and the voluptuous ; and under the name of
Hercules Sando, clad in female garments, incites to
orgies over which he presides. If he destroys, he, like
the sun, draws life out of destruction. He is a wan-
dering god, made in the image of the wandering people
that adored him. The female divinity, under her cruel
aspect, and under the name of Astarte, also presides
over war and destruction. She demands the sacrifice
of young virgins, and imposes chastity on her priests,
who were required to mutilate themselves in her
honour. Under the name of Dido, she is the wife of
the god Melkarth, who pursues her at a distance. In
Asia Minor, we find her under the name of 3/a, where
the warlike virgins, the Amazons, are the favourite
priestesses of this savage divinity. Stripped of her
terrible aspect, she is the Venus of Cytherea. Later on,
she was the famous Diana of Ephesus, the great mother,
the Phrygian Cybele, in the celebration of whose wild
festivals mutilation was practised. The festivals of
Atys were in all points similar to those of Adonis. The
female divinity, in which were concentrated all the
contradictions of dualism, inspiring alternately volup-
tuousness and mutilation, became gradually the great
symbol of Nature, and was exalted to the rank of prin-
cipal divinity in Western Asia. Lucian, in his curious
work on the Syrian goddess, describes in vivid colours
this infamous worship. The temples were built on high
places, and divided into two parts : the sanctuary, in

1 Jer. vii. 31, xix. G. Lucian. De dea Syria.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 27

which was the typical column of Baal, and the impure
symbol of the religions of Nature, was only open to the
priests. These had a pontiff at their head, and under
them a multitude of servants, attached to the temple,
given by the neighbouring towns.

Some attended to the service of the temple, while
the rest spread themselves over the country, begging
alms in behalf of their god or goddess. These were
the famous Galli whom Apuleius describes. They aban-
doned themselves to frantic transports, and joined to
the most repulsive abominations the most sanguinary
ascetism. While they mutilated themselves, the women
dedicated to the service of the divinity prostituted
themselves. Mutilation and licentiousness were the
natural results of this unrestricted dualism. It was
impossible that art could give a definite form to such
incoherent religious conceptions, or represent with any
approach to beauty, a divinity so confused and multi-
farious as one summing up in itself all the forces of
Nature. Pillars of wood or iron, symbols of the god of
hills ; grotesque idols with faces of different animals ;
vast edifices ornamented with precious stones, — such
were the productions of religious art, beyond which it
could not rise. Thus, while civilisation was rising to a
high standard in Tyre, and the dwellings of men were
richly decorated, the temples of their gods were but a
conglomeration of hideous forms. Nothing can more
clearly demonstrate that man was better than the gods
he had created.^ Art seems to have attained a far
higher degree of perfection in Babylon and Nineveh.
Recent discoveries enable us to appreciate the high
cultivation these great empires had reached. The
excavations made by Botta and Layard show clearly a
highly developed civilisation. The hanging gardens of
Babylon, its immense w^alls and iron gates, its magnifi-

' Ottfried Muller, Archaeologie dcr Kunst, p. 301.

28 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

cent royal palaces, its gigantic temple of Belus, were
previously known. We now learn that Nineveh in no
way yielded in splendour to her rival ; the palaces
discovered beneath the soil are as spacious and as
richly decorated as those of Babylon. We see, by the
sculptures that abound, what reverence was paid to
kings in these ancient monarchies. The king was
looked on as the vicegerent of the divinity, and is
represented, bearing the sword in one hand and the
sceptre in the other, seated on his throne, commanding
the respect of his subjects. Scenes of war and chase,
vividly depicted upon the walls of the palace, reveal an
animated and brilliant existence.

The symbolical figures of their gods are stamped
with imposing majesty; the artists having evidently
aimed at reproducing the calm solemnity of Nature, in
which they, for the most part, succeeded. They were
likewise successful in giving life and movement to the
human figure, and to the scenes they represented.
There is nothing sacerdotal in Assyrian art, which suc-
ceeded in emancipating itself from all conventional
stiffness; of form, and moves with ease and liberty. This
may be explained by the fact of its being more national
than religious. Its superiority is precisely owing to
this subordination of the religious idea. We cannot
consequently attribute the merit of its production to
those religions of Nature, which found their artistic
expression rather in Phoenicia than in Babylon or
Nineveh.

THE EGYPTIAN RELIGION.

If from Asia we pass into Egypt, we shall find the
same religious groundwork, but bearing the impress of
an entirely different nationality, which here leaves on
dualism the mark of its own characteristic austerity.
Egypt is the land of routine, of unvarying, monotonous

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 29

life. Nature itself wears in Egypt this aspect. Subject
to no violent alternatives of a burning sun and tropical
rains ; the sun never clouded ; the fertility of the soil
being secured by inundations of the Nile, which are de-
termined with the same regularity as the courses of the
stars, — agricultural labour in such a country has none
of the emotions of a doubtful struggle, the people
needing only to stand as spectators, and allow Nature to
act. The sole precaution necessary, is against periodi-
cal inundations, to guard against which, solid con-
structions were built. The Egyptians are essentially a
building and conservative race ; duration, not extension,
is their instinct. They love immobility as others do
movement. The mummy, stretched for thousands of
years in its solemn attitude, is the Egyptian ideal.
Hence this something sad and mournful which is the
indelible character of the nation. Egypt loves the
past ; her national monument is the pyramid, — that is
to say, a gigantic tomb ; and in this funereal labour
whole generations were swallowed up. It is easy to
conceive the influence the priest would exercise over
such a people : he is made for them ; rather, made by
them. Egypt is pre-eminently a sacerdotal country,
and is styled the sacred land ; the king of which is but
the chief of the priests, and is depicted on their monu-
ments as the son and representative of the gods. The
system of castes was invented by the Egyptians, though
it never attained in Egypt the rigidity it did in India.
The sons did what their fathers did; and nothing is
left to chance, either in the employment of the day, or
in that of life. The existence of an Egyptian, or that
of the king, who was the type of the whole nation, was
regulated with the most exact minuteness, of which the
old Spanish etiquette gives but a feeble notion.

Their worship consisted in a ritual of endless details,
than which a stronger chain was never devised by a

30 PHEPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

priesthood to hold a people m subjection. Constant
purifications, circumcision, no contact with foreigners :
such were the principal ordinances of this ritual. As to
the groundwork of their creed — the worship of Nature
was, in Egj^pt as in Asia, connected with the stars
and sun, the latter being held to be the symbol or
organ of the power of Nature. Before the union of
Egypt under a single sceptre, each district had its own
gods : thus we find the same divinities under different
names. Upper as well as Lower Egypt adored a god
of light, whose attributes were personified in several
secondary divinities ; beside him was placed a female
divinity, the principle of the receptive and passive
power of Nature. In Lower Egypt, the god of the sun
was called Ra or Phra ; at Memphis, Ptah. In Upper
Egypt, he is called Ammon ; and beside him are Mentu
and Atmu, symbolizing the rising and the setting sun.
The female divinity was called in Lower Egypt, Neith
or Pacht ; and in Upper Egypt, Mut^ or great mother.
In this part of Egypt was also adored the god Kneph
and the god Cliem^ both symbolizing the productive
force of Nature ; also the god Chensu^ identical with the
moon ; and the god Thot^ the celestial scribe. It is
probable that Isis^ Osiris^ and Typhon were local divi-
nities, like Ptah and Neith, before their admission into
the grand cycle of the national mythology.

It has even been maintained, on the authority of some
ancient inscriptions, that Typhon had been revered as a
beneficent divinity* until, having been adopted by the
Hycsos, he became an object of horror and fear.^ The
Egyptians endeavoured to represent the various forces
of Nature by this multiplicity of gods, all of which can
easily be reduced to the original duality of Oriental
Paganism. Particular animals were consecrated to each
divinity, whose living symbol they were believed to be.

^ Bunsen, ^gypten, t. i., p. 513.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 31

The gods were represented under the forms of these
sacred animals. Thus the scarabeus represented Ptah ;
the goddess Pacht had the head of a lion or a cat ; and
Kneph the head of a ram. The bull belonged to Ptah
and to Ra. A particular bull, possessing certain marks,
was chosen, and the name of Apis given it. This bull
was supposed to be the offspring of a cow and of a sun-
beam. Fed in the temple, and worshipped above all
other animals, his death was the occasion of universal
lamentation.

After Egypt had become one vast monarchy, there
was a fusion of all the local mythologies, although the
nomenclature continued to vary from Thebes to Mem-
phis. There were, first, seven principal gods, with their
goddesses. All these divinities represent, by their vari-
ous aspects, the male and female principles of Nature.
Ptah, Ammon, Ra, Ma, Osiris, always represent the
active, fertilizing principle ; while Tefant, Nuptve, and
Isis represent the passive, receptive principle. Typhon
represents the sombre, sinister side of Nature. Inferior
in rank to these great divinities were twelve minor
ones ; then thirty demi-gods or genii. At a later
period philosophical ideas may have been attached to
the names of these principal divinities, and an effort
made to elaborate a metaphysical theogony ; but it is
not probable, as some writers have contended, that the
religion of Egypt owes its origin to such profound
views. ^ It was, like the religion of its neighbours.
Nature-worship, and characterized by the same dualism.
In the ancient worship of Memphis there are traces of
the struggle between the good and bad principle ; the
latter being represented under the form of a serpent,
the symbol of night, seeking to extinguish the sun.^

^ See Bunsen's most interesting chapter on the religion of Egypt, ^gyp-
ten, t. i., p. 511.

^ Dunker, t. i., p. 57.

32 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

But the struggle between the good and evil powers of
Nature was represented in a very dramatic manner in
the myth of Isis and Osiris, which Herodotus and
Plutarch have handed down to us in such detail/
Osiris, the husband of Isis, and offspring, like her, of
the gods, meets, in a journey through Egypt, the
wicked Typhon, who, assisted by seventy-two com-
panions of his crimes, kills Osiris, and places his body
in a box, which he throws into the Nile. Isis, a prey
to the deepest affliction, seeks everywhere the body of
her husband; at last she finds it at Byblos. Osiris,
resuscitated, is to reign over the kingdom of the dead ;
whilst Horus, his son, sacrifices Typhon to his just ven-
geance. This myth corresponds with those of Adonis
and Atys. Isis is the earth ; Osiris, the fertilizing
principle of Egypt, — that is to say, the sacred and bene-
ficent river. Typhon, who, with his seventy-two com-
panions, kills him, is the burning sun, which during
seventy-two days consumes the soil and strikes it with
sterility. At the expiration of this time fertility re-
appears, and has for its symbol the young and brilliant
Horus, son of Isis, and conqueror of Typhon. Each
year a solemn festival, celebrated at Byblos, recalled
the leading features of this myth : the lamentations of
the Egyptian women over the murder of Osiris were
like the echo of the lamentations of the women of Phoe-
nicia over Adonis. On the return of vegetation, when
the body of the god was found, joy succeeded to mourn-
ing, and solemn festivals to lugubrious ceremonies. But
the myth of Isis and Osiris appears to us to possess
something higher in it than the analogous myths just
mentioned. Here, there is not merely a succession of
opposite events — there is a struggle. Isis seeks the
body of her husband. Horus fights Typhon. What is
especially remarkable, and entirely new, is the glimpse

' Herodotus ii. 40.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 33

opened to us into the dwelling of the dead. Osiris, the
beneficent god, reigns there ; the sombre way is illu-
mined by a hope of immortality. We know how pre-
occupied the Egyptians were about the future life.
Ideas of a metempsychosis have been wrongly imputed
to them ; but they were rather importations at a later
period from other creeds. According to the Egyptians,
Osiris judged the dead ; and, having weighed their heart
in the scales of justice, he sent the wicked to regions of
darkness, while the just, having received the water of
eternal life, which distilled like dew from the branches
of the tree of life, were sent to dwell with the god of
light. ^ The latter, we read in an inscription, found
favour before the great God ; they dwell in glory, where
they live a heavenly life ; the bodies they have quitted
will for ever repose in their tombs, whilst they rejoice
in the life of the supreme God.'^ We see by the last
words that they attached great importance to the pre-
servation of the body, believing it to be a condition of
the immortality of the soul ; they therefore thought
themselves bound to embalm the body with the most
religious care, and to build indestructible tombs.^

Lovers of tradition, destined to immobility, their one
passion was to preserve the memory of the past. They
wrote their history and that of their kings on those
tombs by means of their symbolical and mysterious
hieroglyphics, which have secured to their chronicles
the stability and duration of stone. We there find the
first elements of writing ; not having yet attained to
abridged signs, they sometimes painted their subjects,
and sometimes represented them by conventional sym-
bols. Nothing can more plainly prove the ponderous
immobility of this people, than their tenacity in preserv-
ing for centuries these rudiments without further de-
veloping them. Egyptian art reproduced the national

1 Dunker, t. i., p. 72. ^ Herodotus ii. 86, 123.

C

34 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

character with singular fidelity. It was not fertility it
wanted, for its works are innumerable. Pyramids and
obelisks cover the soil. The Labyrinth, and its long
lines of palaces ; the palace of Thebes ; the immense
palace of Sesostris ; the equally magnificent temples ;
the vast tombs hollowed out of the rock • — ^the air of
grandeur and majesty about these constructions fill us
with awe, and prove that the artistic faculty of the race
was highly developed. But architecture completely
crushed sculpture and painting ; for these arts, in order
to flourish, require a certain development of human in-
dividuality, whereas Egyptian art was essentially sacer-
dotal. Wanting liberty, spontaneous inspiration, sacred
fire, it was the docile servant — rather, we should say,
the slave — of tradition. Their temples and palaces do
not form one harmonious whole, like the Greek temples,
but are a series of porticoes with innumerable columns
which might be indefinitely prolonged. Sculpture is
tied down to consecrated types, the forms of which may
be described as rather geometrical than organic. The
human face is without beauty or individuality, but
stamped with the same solemn immobility that charac-
terizes the nation itself. The gods are represented by
a grotesque assemblage of animals, amongst which the
sphynx is the most prominent figure. Thus we see, as
Ottfried Millier has well observed, that Egyptian art
was never intended, like Greek art, to express really
aesthetic ideas ; its aim was to preserve the memory of
the past — to relate facts. Far from being consecrated
to the ideal, it was rather a kind of monumental writ-
ing— a development of the hieroglyphics, destined, like
them, to perpetuate history, and to recall, for the re-
quirements of religion, the acts of their gods.^ The
artist, despised as a member of an inferior caste, had no
independence, but was merely a skilled workman in the

^ Ottfried Miiller, ArcLaeologie 257.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 35

service of the priest/ The productions of his chisel
necessarily bear the impress of his subjection, — rather,
of the universal subjection. The most remarkable of
them all, the sphynx, is the faithful personification of
the sad, motionless, yet grand genius of Egypt. ' Such,'
says Dunker,^ ' is this marvellous country, this ancient
Egypt, whose richly developed culture brings us to the
threshold of historic times. Favoured by nature, placed
on a fertile soil, the inhabitants carried into their na-
tional life and civilisation the splendour and the calm
of their climate.'

Their conservative genius created an immutable or-
ganization, in which the sons lived the life their fathers
had lived. The beneficent powers of Nature, the mys-
tery of life, the regular course of the year, the incessant
resurrection of the earth, its forces, its laws, were the
objects of their worship, and they thought they saw in
the regular life of animals the reflection of the immut-
able life of the gods. The life of the people themselves
was regulated by priestly rules, in order that they might
participate as much as possible in the immutability of
the laws of Nature.

THE PERSIAN RELIGION.

Assuredly from Phoenicia to Egypt the religious idea
has made notable progress. It is no longer the mere
contrast between life and death, between blood and
voluptuousness. Already the distinction is recognised
between good and evil, and light cast on a future life
by the dogma of the judgment of souls. Although still
shut up within the circle of dualism, the human con-
science has spoken. It speaks still louder in the reli-
gion of ancient Persia, without, however, getting beyond
the bounds of the religion of Nature. Three great fami-

' Raoul Rochette, Leçon sur FArchseologie ii.

- Dunker, t. i., p. 103. ■ '

36 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

lies of nations issued from that vast area which is
bounded on the west by the Indus, on the east by the
Euphrates, on the south by the ocean, and by the
Caspian on the north. The Persians, Medes, and Bac-
trians, on the one side ; the Greeks and the inhabitants
of India, on the other, have all n common root, as is
proved by the profound analogy of the languages they
speak. We find this identity underlying, like a solid
indestructible foundation, all the elaborations of their
national genius. Hence we discover the same fund of
religious ideas lying at the basis of their mythologies,
although each nation developed them hi very different
directions.

If Western Asia is a land of contrasts, Iran is still
more so.^ ' Immense steppes border countries of luxu-
riant fertility ; a fiery sun burns up the soil, while at
the same moment, in neighbouring districts, the frosts
of winter check all vegetation.' ^ Winter,' says their
sacred book, ^ envelopes the flocks, to destroy them ; it
freezes the water, the trees, the fields, even the heart
of earth.' ^ It is especially at Bactriana and Sogdiana,
not far from the Caspian Sea, that these contrasts are
most striking. In the mountain regions are fertile
valleys, richly clad with luxuriant vegetation; while
farther on stretches out a barren and boundless desert.
In the clear atmosphere of Persia the stars shine pure
and serene ; while on the steppes the tempest thickens
the fogs, and raises clouds of dust. The contrast be-
tween the inhabitants of the two countries is equal to
that of their soil, and climate. On one side, a peaceful
industrious people, occupied in agricultural labour ; on
the other, nomadic tribes, leading a wild and warlike
life, and ever ready for inroads, rushing down upon
Iran with the impetuosity of the sand of the desert.
The inhabitants of Bactriana were led by this state of

^ Dunker, t. ii., pp. 335, 355. - Vendid. iii. 69.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. ?)7

things to look upon the land of the North as cursed,
and as belonging to evil spirits. The melancholy West,
where the sun sets, they held also to be the dwelling
of spirits of darkness. It is probable, when Zoroaster,
six centuries before Christ, gave a religious code to his
cotemporaries, that he was not an inventor of a religion,
but that he merely reduced to order the confused myths
already in existence.^ These myths originated in a land
of striking contrasts, and bore their impress, constantly
recalling the struggle between the beneficent and
destructive forces of Nature.

It is difficult to distinguish accurately what belongs
to the ancient myths, and what specially to Zoroaster,
whose personality is at once obscured and adorned
by the halo of mythology. It is equally difficult to
discover the first nucleus of the sacred books bearing
his name, from amid the many additions made at the
time of their collection under the Sassanides. Never-
theless, by laying aside all that bears the evident trace
of metaphysical elaboration or foreign influence, we
may, by availing ourselves of the labours of modern
criticism, succeed, in a certain measure, in reconstruct-
ing the ancient Bactrian and Persian religion.^

It has been maintained, on the authority of certain
disputed texts, that dualism was not the fundamental
dogma of this religion, but that it admitted a first prin-
ciple absolutely good, named Time without limits.
But this subtle idea, which evidently belongs to an age

^ The date of the Zendavesta may be nearly fixed. As it makes no men-
tion of the great conquests of the Medes and Persians, it was probably
written before this period, and at all events before Cyrus. The Vendidad
Sade and the Yacna^ books of liturgy, filled with forms of prayer, constitute
the most ancient part of the Avesta. The Bundcliesch^ which has been
added, is long subsequent, and bears the trace of a religious eclectism.

2 Besides the books already named, we must cite the translation of the
Zendavesta by Anquetil Duperron ; and above all, the commentary upon the
Yacim by Eugene Bourncuf, a masterpiece of philology and profound
criticism.

38 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

of speculation, cannot be reconciled with the simplicity
of the religious conception which we gather from the
sacred books of Persia, or with the way in which they
speak of Ormuz : of him they speak as the Being par
excellence^ the Creator, the beneficent Ordainer of the
world. Ormuz is also the god of light, — the Baal of
Phoenicia, the Ptah of Egypt, — but purified and trans-
figured. Light no longer simpl}^^ representing the fer-
tilizing power of Nature, but also all that is good, salu-
tary, and upright ; for the moral idea makes its first
appearance in this mythology, though not yet disengaged
from the trammels of Nature.

' I invoke,' says the Persian s prayer of prayers, ^ and
I worship the Creator, Ahava Mazda (Ormuz, the master
who bestows wisdom), — luminous, resplendent, very
great, very good, very perfect, very energetic, very in-
telligent, and very beautiful ; eminent in purity, who
possesses the good science, source of pleasure ; him who
created us, who formed us, who nourished us ; him, the
most perfect of intelligent beings.'^ Opposed to Ormuz
is Ahriman, or the evil genius, representing darkness
and death. Like to an immense reptile, he envelopes
the world in his coils, and infuses his poison into every
creature. ' He said, I will spoil, by looking on them
with an evil eye, the flocks and the sun. The pastures
shall be without water. The old infernal serpent lays
his touch on every creature.'^ Ahriman created no evil
beings, but he deposits a germ of evil in all the crea-
tures made by Ormuz.

Under Ormuz and Ahriman are ranged a multitude of
spirits, which carry on, in their name, the great struggle
between light and darkness. The first in this category
are the Amschaspands (the venerable). They personify
the highest virtues and the best blessings. ' I invoke
and worship benevolence, purity, a worthy life, that

^ Bournouf, Yacna. ^ Anquetil, pp. 172, 305.

ORIENTAL PAGANIS]\I. 81)

which is holy and submissive, and that which pro-
duces all and gives life.'^ The six Amschaspands, with
Ormuz, reign over the seven parts of the universe.
Militant spirits follow, which take an active part in the
struggle against Ahriman. Mithra is the chief of these
— high, immortal, pure, god of the sun, rapid in action,
eye of Ormuz. ' Mithra, the victorious, seats himself,
after the dawn has risen, girt in pure light, upon the
summit of the mountains.'^ It is he that dissipates
darkness and falsehood, and it is he that gives patience
and health. Other luminous spirits — the stars ; the
moon, which contains the fertilizing power or the seed
of the bull ; above all, Behram, or the light-bringer of
Ormuz — are obj ects of adoration. A divine hero, Serosch,
the champion and servant of Ormuz, who strives against
the spirits of darkness, is associated with them. In
fact, the Persian adored all that exerted a beneficent,
fertilizing influence, especially fire, the most rapid of
the immortals ; then the vivifying water, and the ver-
dant trees. ' I invoke and worship,' we read in the
Yacna, ' health and goodness. I invoke and worship
the male and female of animals, houses — the store-
houses where corn is kept — water, earth, trees, corn.
I adore this earth and sky; the stars, the moon, the sun;
light, which had no beginning and is increate ; and all
the works of the holy and celestial Being. I invoke and
worship the mountains, depositories of the wisdom given
by Ormuz, radiant with purity ; and all mountains
radiant in purity, perfectly radiant ; and the splendour
of kings given by Ormuz, and their unborrowed bright-
ness. I invoke those who are holy and those who are
pure.'^ Thus we find that the adoration of pure men
was commanded : their spirits were worshipped under
the name of Ferouers. ' I invoke and worship the

' Bournouf, Yacna, p. 174. ^ Vendid. ix. 01.

•' Bournouf, Yacna, p. 559.

40 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

powerful ferouers of pure men, the ferouers of the men
of the ancient kiw, the ferouers of livmg men, my
parents, the ferouer of my soul.'^

The ferouer or sph^it of Zoroaster, the master of
holiness, is the object of an altogether special worship.
These quotations serve to show that the whole creation
was considered as an emanation from Ormuz ; and that
all that is living, fertile, luminous, brilliant, from the
sun to the king, is divine by virtue of the same.

The spirits that preside over the divisions of time —
the Gahanders, or masters of the six divisions of the
year, the spirits of the months and days — are likewise
objects of worship. In this way the whole year is made
divine ; it is subdivided into six periods, corresponding
to the six periods of the creation of Ormuz, and is ter-
minated by a solemn festival, called the Festival of All
Souls. It was believed that the souls of the dead then
returned to visit their families, and that their prayers
and expiations obtained forgiveness for the guilty.

In opposition to Ormuz and his luminous legions,
Ahriman gathers together on the burial-places his sombre
army of malevolent spirits, or devas. Amongst them is
the spirit of winter, Agis the slayer, who seeks to extin-
guish the fire ; the genius of heavy sleep and sloth ; in
fine, the genius of falsehood. Animals are divided be-
tween the two adversaries. Ahriman succeeded in
perverting and appropriating to himself a great number
of the creatures of Ormuz : amongst others, the serpent
' which is full of death.' All ferocious animals, such as
' are pernicious to the earth,' belong to him. On the
contrary, the cock that announces the dawn, the dog
that is the enemy of wild beasts, as well as all useful
animals, are the servants of Ormuz. In such a religion
there can be no tendency to asceticism. On the con-
trary, its injunctions are to develop life richly, and to

^ Bournouf, Yacna 454, 571.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 41

combat death in every shape. ' 0 man,' says the sacred
book, ^ give children to the woman who has borne none.
Eat, as a wise man, the fat of animals.'^ The first
commandment of the Avesta is to plough the fields, to
plant trees, and in this way to prepare food for man.
' With the fruits of the field increases the law of Ormuz,
and with them it is multiplied a hundredfold. The
earth rejoices when man builds on it his house ; when
his flocks abound ; when, surrounded by wife and
children, he makes the grass and the corn to grow, and
plants fruit-trees abundantly.'^

We know that the Median and Persian people
imbibed from their religion an energetic and con-
quering spirit. They founded great empires. Cyrus
and Darius carried to the highest pitch the civilisa-
tion and glory of their race. With the Persian, the
question is to live, and not to die ; and the more
intensity and splendour there is in his life, the more
Ormuz is glorified, and Ahriman, the eternal hater of
life, confounded. But it does not suffice to richly
develop all the elements of life, to cultivate the earth
and cover it with fertile harvests, to decorate the dwell-
ing of man, and to shed a splendour over human life :
the worship of Ormuz must also be celebrated. The
Persian has no idols : such gross representations would
be a profanation of his luminous god. But his religious
duties are fulfilled by keeping alive the sacred fire — that
sole image of his god and god himself — and when he has
pronounced his invocations conformably to the ritual
taught him. The sacred word plays an important part
in the Persian religion. It is the sovereign means of
expelling evil spirits and drawing down the favour of
Ormuz ; for it is an emanation from him, and is also
divine. ^ I invoke,' must the worshipper of the god of
light say, — 'I invoke the excellent efficacious word, given

^ Vendid. i. 18. 2 ygndid. iii. 85, 86 ; iii. 1, 20.

42 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

through the medium of Zoroaster, the long meditation,
the good law of the adorers of Ormuz, against the devas.'^
Surrounded by the influence of Ahriman, man endea-
vours to escape him ; but, it being impossible for ever
to ward off his poisonous breath, a system of purification
was devised, against all possible pollutions. The chief
contamination was contact with the dead. The house
which death had visited was to be purified with ex-
cessive care, and the body to be deposited in a solitary
place, to be devoured by wild beasts ; for the sacred fire
could not be profaned for such purposes. The Persians
at a later period renounced this custom, Cyrus having had
a magnificent tomb erected for himself. The cemeteries
are the natural domain of the destructive genii, the de vas.
Caste distinctions were by no means so strict in
Persia as in Egypt and India, — the labouring caste
being held in almost as much respect as the military.
Neither was the distinction between things sacred
and profane as rigid as in other religions ; since a man
by cultivating his field was performing a religious act to
the glory of Ormuz, whose service consisted in the de-
velopment of all life and activity. Priests had not the
same influence amongst them as elsewhere. They pre-
sided at the ceremonies, but the performance of the
rites was not left to them alone. Zoroaster's religion
is imbued with a lay spirit not very favourable to the
priesthood. The magi are called in the Avesta by the
name of Athrava, which signifies guardians of the fire ;
and this, indeed, is their chief ofi&ce, with that of regu-
lating the sacred ceremonies. ' Do not style them
priests,' says the Avesta, 'who wear the garb, but are not
crowned with the divine law. Call him priest of Zoro-
aster who labours all night to acquire the knowledge of
sacred things and the purification of sins.'^ The high
priest — rather, the representative of the divinity — is the

^ Yacna, p. 3 14. - Vendid. xviii. 1-17.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 43

king. It is he who concentrates all the vital forces of the
country, who diffuses them abroad and increases them
by use. It is he who, by the splendour with which he
is surrounded, by the impulse he gives the useful arts,
and the glory he acquires, — it is he who best represents
Ormuz, god of light and life. Thus Persian art is
kingly rather than sacerdotal, and occupied itself more
with the construction of palaces than of temples. Those
palaces were built in terraces, with gigantic gates and
avenues of columns. The king appears in all the pomp
of costume, and the exercise of his royal functions :
sometimes in the animation of the combat ; sometimes
exercising acts of clemency. The gods are represented
by symbolical figures of animals. Their mythology is
nothing — their history everything. Art is thus the
symbol of an essentially human and laical religion, yet
without any tendency to materialism ; on the contrary,
it is much more preoccupied about a future life than is
the Egyptian religion. Whosoever has lived in purity,
and has not suffered the devas to have any power over
him, like to a free spirit, will pass after death into the
realms of light. ^ Souls, three days after death, as
soon as Mithra, the victorious, seats himself with his
celestial father on the mountains, pass the bridge
Tshinavat^ or of retribution. There the gods and devas
fight their last fight for their possession. Ormuz exa-
mines them ; and those who have practised holiness and
purity of life pass the bridge, and are conducted into
heaven. The pure soul mounts joyously to the golden
throne of Ormuz. Impure souls are abandoned to the
evil spirit, who carries them away into regions of dark-
ness. According to the BundcJiescli (a sacred book
added to the Avesta since the Christian era, and which
bears evident traces of the influence of Christianity),
the whole world will end by receiving the law of Ormuz
through the medium of Serosch, the divine hero, trans-

44 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

formed into a kind of Messiah. But we have no right
to attribute to the Persian rehgion, ideas which are
evidently of foreign importation.

If we judge it as a whole, it appears far superior to
all preceding forms of worship. It impelled to action,
to energy, to progress ; it looked on life as a combat
and a field of ennobling labour ; it sanctified the sweat
of the labourer and the life of the family. The gods
it adored were the beneficent gods, the champions of
light and goodness. Still dualism prevails. The crea-
tion was held to be an emanation from Ormuz, and, by
virtue of this, claims our worship. The moral world
was not distinguished from the material. The pollu-
tion of the soul is identified with the pollution of the
body ; falsehood is ranked with the involuntary contact
with a dead body ; presumption is to be cured like a
fever. Light is not merely a symbol of holiness, but
an integral part, as much as chastity and integrity.
The darkness of night and the cold of winter are as
much manifestations of evil as are moral impurity or
dishonesty. The religious law of the Persians is a
mixture of material rules and moral ordinances. The
ablution of the body is mixed up with the sanctification
of the soul, and a fine field of wheat is as pleasing in
the sight of Ormuz as is a purified heart. Conscience
has not yet conquered its entire domain, but is ad-
vancing towards it ; for, between the worship of Baal
and the worship of Ormuz, the distance is great and the
progress real.

THE INDIAN RELIGION.

To the east of the Euphrates and Tigris, and forming
the southern declivity of the great central plateau of
Asia, rises the lofty mountain range of the Himalaya.
Beyond it lies India, that marvellous country which so
filled the imagination of the ancient Greeks — the land

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 45

where gold abounds, and where, under the shadow of
gigantic trees, gigantic animals have their haunts.
The Indus and Ganges, the largest rivers in Asia, take
their rise in the eternally snow-crowned Himalaya.
Certain tribes from the highlands of Iran, and of the
same family as the Bactrians, Medes, and Persians,
established themselves in the country watered by these
rivers, driving towards the coast the native inhabitants,
who are still recognisable by their long hair and bronzed
features. This migration must have taken place before
the year 1300.^ The Rig Veda^ a collection of sacred
hymns with which the Yedas open, contains a brilliant
description of the social and religious state of those
Aryan tribes during the period preceding their invasion
of the fertile valley of the Ganges.^ In them we find
the creed that is at the basis of the religion of Zoroaster.
The god of light we find adored under the name of Indra.
He it is Hhat makes the lightning spring forth and
launches the light.' Like Mithra, his symbol is the bull.
' He bears the victorious thunderbolts, and is true as a
father is to his child. 0 god, may thy arm give us
happiness.'^ The malevolent divinities fight against
Indra : they are the clouds that darken the sky, and
that march under the guidance of Yritra (that which
obscures). The swift winds that chase the clouds are
the auxiliaries of Indra. The two first rays of the
morning were adored under the name of Açvius, twin-
brothers who traverse heaven seated on a rapid car,
scattering along their passage fecundity and life. The
Aryans of India, like those of Iran, adored all that
tends to increase, animate, and embellish life. Their
h3niins breathe a simple, joyous pantheism. Fire,

1 Dunker, t. ii., p. 17.

2 Kig Veda, sec. vii. lect. 1, hymn 4 (we quote from M. Langlois' trans-
lation.) See also Lassen, t. i., pp. 755, 7G6.

^ Rig Veda vii. 7, 15-18.

4 G PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

water, earth, heaven, the dawn, plants, rivers, holy
libations, — all are deified and celebrated in poetry, at
once monotonous and brilliant, but singularly expressive
and fresh. Fire is adored under the name of Agni —
' this winged creature that shines upon our earth.
Prayers caress this trembling nursling, this golden bird
that rests on earth. Young Agni, in the different
hearths in which he is born, springs up from the wood,
in the midst of eternal libations. He is a sovereign
whose standard is smoke ; his dazzling flames spread ;
they burst with a sonorous noise ; and with his sharp,
long, radiant darts, that seem in their power to play, he
mounts toward heaven.'^

Water is glorified with equal enthusiasm ; but it is
the Soma, the S3niibol of the liquid element, which is
used in libations, that is sung in every tone. ^ 0 Soma,
pure and loved, to thee we owe our rich renown.
Prayers and hymns celebrate the friend that circulates
in our cups, and who has his place at our festivals — the
immortal who, to win our praises, gives us the sweet
dew. He follows by a thousand paths ; he falls into
our cups. He makes his voice heard, and he shines
when the fertile dawn arises. The hymn and the song
are the wheels of the sacred car of sacrifices.'^ But this
brilliant poetry cannot mark all that is elementary, and
even gross, in the ideas of the early Indians relating to
their gods. These divinities altogether belong to the
domain of Nature. Offerings repair their strength, and
libations quench their thirst. The gods are in a condi-
tion of dependence on the priests, who prepare these
draughts, and are acted on magically by them. Never-
theless, even at that period, we can discern amongst
the Aryans of the Indus eminent poetical faculties, and
especially the gift of translating into symbol their pri-
mitive impressions. A profound transformation was

1 Rig Veda vii. 7, 15, 18. ^ Rjg yeda viii. 6, 9.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 47

soon after effected in the religious ideas and the social
life of the Aryans.

As long as they dwelt on the banks of the Indus, they
were a conquering militant people ; but once settled in
the valley of the Ganges, they became pacific and sacer-
dotal, and exchanged the nomadic life they had led
among the Himalaya for a peaceful settlement in the
midst of a magnificent country, where vegetation sprung
up with unwonted splendour of colour and proportions ;
where Nature revealed her force in spectacles whose
grandeur was overwhelming to human weakness. They
were not now simply in presence of the cheering light
of morning, of the sun sparkling over the mountain
side, or of the swift-flying cloud that darkened the sky.
The unity of Nature revealed itself to them in all its
majesty; and they believed themselves to be in her
temple when they entered those immense forests,
where the summits of the trees, bound together and
interwoven by the encircling ivy, formed a thick dome
and a sort of sacred gloom.

Their religion, in its early form, bore the stamp of
pantheism, but a simple, childlike pantheism, deifying
what was admired or feared. Their personifications had
in them something floating and indefinite — transparent
symbols of the different aspects of the countries they
passed through. As long as diversity preponderated
over unity, the character of their mythology was that of
a warlike polytheism — a constant struggle between two
rival divinities ; but when unity prevailed over diver-
sity, they deified, not the opposing forces of Nature,
but Nature itself, taken as a whole. Indra, the god of
light, was no longer the supreme god ; light being but
one of the aspects of the life of Nature, whose totality
they desired to symbolize. Accordingly, he gradually
fell into the second rank, yielding his place to a god
hitherto occupying a very secondary rank, but who had

48 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

the advantage of being eminently sacerdotal. Brahma,
or Brahmanaspati, whose name signifies the lord of
sleep, increased in influence as the caste of priests,
whose protector he was, predominated/ During the
period of conquest the sacerdotal body had acquired
considerable influence, victory being attributed to the
scrupulous performance of the sacred rites. Exercis-
ing an immediate influence on their gods by sacri-
fices and libations, the function of the priests was as
important in war as that of the military caste, and after
the conquest it necessarily became the preponderating
influence. Thus, when that religious revolution was
effected which issued in an admirably constructed pan-
theism, the name of the victorious god was the sacer-
dotal god, Brahma.^ Indra, and the other gods, who
were but partial manifestations of Nature, and conse-
quently inferior to the divinity that filled and pervaded
the whole, were subordinated to him. But this triumph
did not suffice : gifted in the highest degree with the
speculative genius, the priests elaborated a subtle, com-
plicated system, by which to explain the origin of the
world. They thus arrived at totally opposite notions
from those which characterized the earlier creed.
Whilst, according to the JRig Veda, there was a good
element in Nature — the element of life and light, which
it was man's duty to make triumphant over the malig-
nant element, which is the element of death and dark-
ness,— the Indian priests laid all Nature under inter-
dict. According to them. Nature was an emanation
from Brahma. Brahma was the soul, the hidden
genius, the deep source from which all life proceeded.
But no being resembles him ; none entirely reproduces
him. When born into real life, the being issuing from
him is necessarily born into an imperfect state of exist-
ence : the first emanation involves a diminution of the

^ Lassen, t. i., p. 766. ^ Dunker, t. ii., p. 65.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 49

divine life, the second a still greater, and so on ; as
beings multiply, the decline increases. ' Brahma, we
read in a passage of the Yedas belonging to the Brah-
minical period, is the eternal, pure, supreme being.
The world is his name, his image ; but this first exist-
ence, that contains all in itself, alone really subsists.
This universe is Brahma ; it proceeds from Brahma, sub-
sists in Brahma, and returns to Brahma.'^ From this
point of view birth itself is a fall, and the world of birth
and change, a w^orld under curse. This is the natural
consequence of the dogma of emanation, which the
Indian religion reduced to a rigid formula. Thus we
find it to be a religion of asceticism and death, leading to
the rejection of the natural element, to the destruction
of finite and limited existences, and tending with all its
might, not tow^ards progress and life, but towards anni-
hilation. In this Introduction we can only give an
outline of its history ; for Oriental studies have reached
that point, that a complete exposition of this religion
would require considerable development.

Brahminism, in its first form, before the idea of a
trinity was introduced into the notion of the supreme
god, was contained in the Law^s of Manou. We cannot
do better, in order to give an idea of it, than present a
brief analysis of this religious code, the date of which
is said to be 1000 b.c. The first book contains an essay
on theogony, which is a development of the theory of
emanation. ' By alternate waking and repose, the immu-
table being eternally causes the mass of mutable beings
to revive or die. He makes all beings pass successively
from birth to growth, from growth to dissolution, by
a movement like to that of a wheel. He, whom the
mind alone can perceive, who escapes all organs of
sense, who is without visible parts, the eternal, the
soul of all beings, whom none can comprehend, dis-

^ Creuzer, traduit Guigniaut, t. i., liv. i., cli. ii.

D

50 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

played his own splendour, having resolved in his mind
that all creatures should emanate from his substance.'^
From the waters produced by him sprang an egg, which
dividing, formed heaven and earth. At the same time
a multitude of gods, of qualities, of virtues, took shape
from these first emanations. Manou, produced by
Brahma, created the universe by means of intermediary
gods ; but this world is the reproduction of an anterior
world, for the creations of the divinity incessantly re-
produce themselves.

The Laws of Manou show us the system of castes in
full vigour. It was the result* of the conquest. The
ancient inhabitants of the country, under the name of
Cudra or Soudras, became the helots of India, and con-
stituted the despised and degraded class. The con-
querors were divided into w^arriors and agriculturists ;
above both were the priests, who assumed the name of
Brahmans. The sacred code endeavours to give an
eternal basis to this organization. ' For the propaga-
tion of human life,' we read, ' Brahma produced the
Brahmans from his mouth, the warrior from his arm,
the labourer from his thigh, the Soudras from his foot.'
The Laws of Manou place the Brahmans at the head of
the social hierarchy, and constantly labour to exalt their
dignity : they thus form a kind of Indian Lévites.
Nevertheless, especially in the latter book, the general
organization of society is regulated by very minute pre-
scriptions. Royalty is invested with despotic power.
The king is compared to the gods, and thus placed in
relation with the priestly caste. Despotism charac-
terizes each degree of the hierarchy ; and we can judge
from certain prescriptions how harassing it became on
the part of some of the subaltern authorities. The king
is solicited to exercise justice in order that his kingdom
may flourish like a well-watered tree. The Laws of

^ Laws of Manou i. 57.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 51

Manou are remarkable as a penal code. ' Punishment,'
they say, ' governs the human kind ; punishment pro-
tects it ; it watches whilst the world sleeps.' Adultery
and gambling are severely punished, but many crimes
may be compounded for by graduated fines. Religious
expiations are also frequent. But it is in the four
books on the Brahmans that the real nature of Brah-
manism is revealed. The Brahman should pass through
four degrees — the novice, the father of a family, the
anchorite, and the ascetic. The novitiate consists in
celebrating the rites of purification : first, those intended
to wash away the stain of birth ; and to study the
sacred books. ' It is not years, nor white hairs, nor
parents, nor riches that constitute greatness. The
saints established this law : He who is instructed in the
holy books is great amongst us. Whilst the natural
birth is purely human, the birth communicated to the
novice by the sacred teacher is the true one : it is not
subject to age or death.' ^ Already asceticism is appa-
rent. ^ Let a Brahman,' it says, ' stand in constant fear
of worldly honour, and always wish for contempt as
he would for ambrosia.'^

The third book introduces us to the novice as father
of a family. Frankly accepting this phase in the Brah-
man's life, the Laws of Manou exalt in a high degree the
family, and consequently woman. We find in them this
fine passage : 'Wherever women are honoured, there the
divinities are satisfied. The happiness of that family is
secured in which the husband loves his wife, and the
wife her husband.'^ The wife's subjection to the hus-
band is absolute. ' A woman,' it says, ' should never
govern herself after her own fashion. The woman who
has lost her husband should never pronounce the name
of another man.'^ In the house of the Brahman the

1 Laws of Manou ii. 147. - Id. ii. 162.

'-^ Id. iii. 55, GO. * Laws of ^fanoii v. 147, 157.

52 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

family life should be essentially religious. ' Let the
master of the house be always exact in reading the
sacred writings, and in making offerings to the gods. A
Brahman who , has not studied the sacred writings,
dies out like a fire of dried herbs.' ^

But the highest degree of perfection for a Brahman
is not the life of the family ; on the contrary, it con-
sists in the rupture of all natural ties. He prepares
himself for it by leading the life of an anchorite in the
depths of the forests. ' Free from all inclinations for
sensual pleasures, chaste as a novice, having the earth
for his bed, he lies at the foot of trees, practising all
kinds of purifications, and disengaging himself from the
bonds of the body.'^ Quitting his house, alw.ays alone,
without fire or domicile, he marches on in silence,
fixing his mind on the divine being. ' Let him not
desire death ; let him not desire life ; let him wait
the moment fixed for him, as a servant waits for his
wages. By mastering his organs he prepares himself
for immortality.'^ Finally, having renounced all kinds
of pious practices, directing his mind to the sole object
of his thoughts, exempt from all desires, having ex-
piated his faults by devotion, he attains the supreme end,
that is to say, absolute asceticism — image of and pre-
paration for death.^ Innumerable rites for purification
are prescribed by the Brahmans. The whole system is
crowned by the dogma of the metempsychosis. The
migration of souls through different regions of creation,
and through different castes, is proportioned in number
and nature to the degrees of guilt. Thus we see Brah-
manism ultimately leads to extreme asceticism, even to
death : and nothing can be more logical ; for matter is
the Mdia, or eternal illusion, against which we must be
incessantly on our guard. ^ Brahma, seduced by Maïa,

1 Laws of Manou iii. 75, 168. ^ i^^ ^i 26, 32.

" id. vi. 40, 45. •* Id. vi. 96.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 53

which is his emanation, united himself to her in the in-
toxication of passion, and the world was produced.' The
mysterious veil she wove with her hands receives them
both, and the thought of the eternal becomes fertile in
falling on time ; but its fecundity is, at the same time,
the cause of the false, bad life of the finite earthly being.'

Speculation, so inherent in the Hindu mind, laid
hold of the principle of this daring emanatism, and
drew from it consequences of twofold tendencies. The
philosophy called Mimansa teaches that Nature is but an
appearance — a delusion, that it is nothing; and that
the soul of the universe, or Brahma, alone exists.

The world is a dream of this soul. It is by illusion
that the soul of man believes itself distinct from the
soul of Nature, and it should free itself from this illusion
by becoming absorbed in the great soul. The Sankya
endeavours to re-establish individual existence against
the Mimansa. According to this system, beside Nature,
which is one, is the soul, which is parcelled out into a
multitude of individualities, and only exists in multi-
plicity. The mission of each soul is to free itself from
the fetters of the body, but it is dependent on no au-
thority ; for there is no universal soul of the world, no
Brahma, no god : its followers must throw off the do-
minion of the priests. The disciples of Kapila, the
author of the Sankya, thus arrive at absolute scepti-
cism.^ The task was reserved for a much less meta-
physical system to clearly disengage the fundamental
idea of Brahmanism, to separate it from all heteroge-
neous elements, and to realize it in all its consequences.
Buddhism, whose origin goes back to six centuries
before Christ, is the legitimate offspring of Brahmanism,
its heir and conqueror.^ It is difficult to distinguish

1 Dunker, t. ii., pp. 166, 173.

^ See on tins subject the admirable commentary on the History of
Buddhism, by Eug. Bournouf. Paris, 1844.

/■

54 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANIS:\I.

the true from the false in the legend concerning
Buddha. It is probable that he was an adept of the
Brahnians, who, combining their creed with the meta-
physical ideas of the Mimansa, and practising the most
rigid asceticism, was gradually led to the doctrine of
annihilation, which is implicitly involved in Brahman-
ism. Buddhism was less a revolution than an evolu-
tion ; and if it was subversive of the ancient religion, it
was owing to the persecutions of the Brahmans.

According to the legend, Buddha, a prince of the
royal blood of the Cakja, led the brilliant life of a prince
destined to a throne, until, one day meeting on his road
a sick man, an aged man, and a dead body, the thought
seized him with overpowering force of the evils that
desolate the world. To solve this lugubrious enigma
of evil, he quitted his palace, abandoned his wife and
riches, and gave himself up to the most absolute asceti-
cism. It was in vain that he questioned the Brahmans,
or the disciples of the Sankya : no light could they cast
on the terrible question that absorbed his thoughts.
At last, worn out by prolonged fasting, he received, as
he sat beneath a fig-tree, the revelation of the truth,
and set out in the garb of a beggar to communicate it
to the world. He henceforward assumed the name of
Cakjamouni, which signifies the hermit of Cakja. His
success was slow at first, but he afterwards recruited
numerous disciples. He came to die in the country,
the throne of which he should have occupied, after
having attained annihilation by contemplation. What-
ever may have been the part of the presumed founder
of Buddhism in the elaboration of the system bearing his
name, the system itself is known to us, thanks to the
numerous documents accumulated by European science.^

^ M. Eug. Bournouf took the exposition he gives of Buddhism from
Sanscrit manuscripts, which contain, with the Discourse of Buddha, the
discipline and metaphysics of the sect.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 55

It may be defined in one word : It is the system of anni-
hilation. Four principles are first laid down : — 1. Suffer-
ing exists. 2. It is the lot of all who come into the world.
3. We must rid ourselves of it. 4. This can only be done
by science.^ Now science teaches that suffering arises
from sensation, and that sensation is but an illusion of
the individual. The individual himself has no real exist-
ence, and all his ideas and all his sentiments should be
immersed in the void. From all this results the anni-
hilation of the world, which is but one vast mass of suf-
fering.^ When this absolute void is reached — ^this Nir-
vana, as the Buddhists name it — this quietism which
consists in rejecting all sensation, all thought, all self-
consciousness, — it may be said, ' The terrible night of
error is dissipated for my soul ; the sun of science is
gone ; the gates of suffering are closed". I have reached
the opposite shore, the celestial shore of Nirvana.' In
this way the ocean of tears and blood is dried up, the
army of death annihilated. He who does not deviate
from this way, escapes the whirl of a new birth and the
changes of the world. He can boast that he has anni-
hilated existence for himself — that he has attained
liberty, and the cessation of all fear of a new life.

This aspiration towards the void and annihilation,
although expressed with singular ardour in Buddhism,
was at the root of Brahmanism. It was the first to pro-
nounce a sentence of condemnation on the \^orld, and
upon the limited existence of the finite being. From
this point of view, redemption for the creature is con-
founded with death, since evil is in birth itself. To be
born again, however superior the degree of being, was
to fall under the empire of evil ; for it was to enter again
into the world of change. To promise immortality to
the believer in Indian pantheism, was to promise him
an eternity of suffering ; for in his eyes there was no

^ Bournouf. - Boiirnouf.

56 TREPARATION FOR CHRISTUNITY IN PAGANISM.

other suffering, no other misfortune, no other sin, than
that of Kving. Thus was kindled this passion for death,
so energetically depicted in the sacred books of the
Buddhists : ' It is for this the birds fly through the air,
that wild animals fall into snares ; for this men perish
in combats, struck by the arrow or lance ; for this it is
that I, in the midst of a multitude of sins, have come
so far.' We may attribute a great part of the success
of Buddhism to the satisfaction given by it to the thirst
for death and annihilation, already developed by Brah-
manism. Moreover, it adroitly presented its doctrine
under different aspects, reserving to the initiated all
that was most arduous and extreme, whilst it was con-
siderably modified in order to adapt it to the mass of
its adherents. Buddhism preached charity and humi-
lity to the people, and the duty of repressing all violent
passions. It thus lowered its standard in order to gain
proselytes ; and as it presented a striking contrast to the
pride of the Brahmans, it gained by its mildness and
beneficent action a multitude of disciples. What espe-
cially rendered it popular, was its eminently democratic
character, which tended to remove the barrier of castes.
'My law, said Buddha, is a law of grace for all.'^ Be-
sides, its disciple escaped the law of a new birth, and the
gradation of merit marked out by the system of castes.
We can understand the attraction such a doctrine
must have had for these classes, which had been
trampled down and despised by the Brahmans. Not-
withstanding its success amongst the people, it was
only in the monasteries founded by it that Buddhism
was really carried out in all its consequences. The true
follower of Buddha is the recluse, who, having shaved
his head and beard, and clad himself in yellow vest-
ments, quits his house, full of faith, to enter on the
religious life, and begs from place to place. ^ His aim

^ Bournouf, p. 178. - Bournouf, p. 248.

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. 57

is to gradually attain to total insensibility. Like the
bird born of an egg, he must burst through his shell/ —
that is to say, completely renounce terrestrial existence,
break off every tie, look with equal e^^e on gold and on
a clod of earth, turn his back on existence — on the joys
and pleasures of men.^ He does not live absolutely
isolated, but associates with those who partake his
sentiments. Vast monasteries receive the Buddhist
monks, who, however, do not reside in them, but go
from monastery to monastery begging along the road.
They passed the degrees of a moral and scientific hier-
archy, and rose in proportion to their progress in holi-
ness and true science. Besides the regular monks, there
were devotees, who were not subjected to monastic asceti-
cism. Hospitality was abundantly practised in those
monasteries, and any infraction of this duty severely
punished. The Buddhist form of worship was charac-
terized by extreme simplicity, and was connected with
the constant memory of Buddha, whose relics were
worshipped in the different convents. Offerings of
flowers and perfumes accompanied the prayers addressed
to him. There was no sacrifice in this religion. Thus,
while Brahminical worship was called Yadjna, or
sacrifice, the Buddhist was called Padja, or honour.^
Buddhism was essentially a proselytizing religion. Placed
by its favourite dogma above Nature, which it was its
constant aspiration to destroy, it was arrested by none
of the distinctions created by birth.

In its eyes, there was no more difference between the
people of the various nations than there was amongst
the castes. Hence the rapidity of its propagation from
its very origin. ' For Bhagavet or the blessed Buddha,
say the sacred books, there is no gift so precious as a
converted man.'* Faithful to this principle. Buddhism

^ Bournouf, p, 86. 2 Bournouf 327.

3 Boiirnouf 286, 288. * Bournouf 327.

08 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

spread with incredible rapidity through India and the
adjacent countries. It was led to organize itself, in
order the more effectually to defend itself against its
persecutors. The monasteries were united by a federa-
tive bond, and synods were convoked to regulate dogma.
Three synods are mentioned : the first assembled after
the death of Buddha ; the second, 110 years after; and
the third, 400 years later. The canon of the sacred
books was revised in these sacred councils. The third
revision alone has been handed down.^ In presence of
this formidable invasion of Buddhism, the Brahmans
found themselves compelled to modify their religious
system. The people had already imposed on them
two new divinities : Siva, the successor or counterpart
of the ancient Indra, the god of thunder and rain-
storms ; and Yischnou, the god of the serene sky and
of abundant vegetation, the father of rivers, already
mentioned in the Rig Yeda, and adored on the banks of
the Ganges under the image of a lotus. The Brahmans
placed these two divinities side by side with Brahma,
who continued to be god the creator, whence all emana-
tions proceeded. Yischnou became god the preserver,
and Siva god the destroyer. Sarasvati, Lakehmi, and
Bhavani were introduced into this cycle as wives of
these gods. Thus the Trimurti, or Indian trinity, was
constituted. We may fix the completion of this my-
thological evolution about the year 500 b.c., since
there are no traces of it in the sacred books anterior to
this date.

But the Indian trinity was never generally adopted.
Each of the three great divinities was the object of a
special worship, and thus were formed three rival sects.
Sivaism recalls the ancient religion of Nature, and the
gross dualism of Phoenicia. The followers of Brahma
pretend that their god, as god the creator, was a fallen

1 Bournouf 4-18.

ORIENTAL PAGANISH!. 59

god, and must expiate by successive incarnations his
having diffused himself through matter. But the most
important of these sects was that of Yischnou. Con-
sidered as god the preserver and benefactor, he was
opposed to Buddha. The great heroic poems of India,
the Mahaharata and the Ramayana^ were revised in
his honour. He is represented as becoming incarnate to
succour humanity; and, Hke Buddha, personifying all
excellence.^

The perusal of the Ramayana is full of interest. We
are carried away by this gorgeous poetry into the heart
of the Brahminical world — into the deserts where the
anchorites rule by asceticism over the gods themselves,
and where, transfigured by macerations, their counte-
nances are illumined as by the sun. The principal end
of Yischnou's incarnations is clearly indicated in the
following passage : ^ Slayer of Madhou,^ as thou lovest
to draw out of affliction unhappy mortals, we, who are
plunged in misery, pray to thee, august divinity, be our
refuge.' 'Speak,' replies Yischnou, 'what shall I do?'
Having heard the words of the ineffable, all the gods
answered : ' There is a king named Daçaratha, who has
embraced a life of severe penitence ; he has even per-
formed the sacrifice of an açwa-medha,^ because he is
childless, and prays Heaven to accord him a son. He is
stedfast in piety, praised for his virtues ; justice is his
character, truth his word. Acquiesce then, 0 Yischnou,
in our demand, and consent to be born as his son.
Divided into four parts, deign, 0 thou who tramplest
under foot thy enemies, deign to incarnate thyself in
the wombs of his three wives, beautiful as the goddess
of beauty.'

^ See Mahabarata, fragments by T. Pavie ; Ramayana, Sanscrit poem by
Valmiki, translated by HijDpolyte Fauche.
^ Name of an evil spirit.
^ The açwa-medha is the famous sacrifice of the horse.

60 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Nârâyana^ the master, imperceptible to the senses,
but who then rendered himself visible, — Nârâyana
answered the gods who invited him to this heroic
avatara : ' Once incarnate, what would you have me do ?
and whence comes the terror that troubles you ? ' To
these words of the great Yischnou the gods answered :
' It is the demon Ravana, it is he, Yischnou, this deso-
lation of worlds, it is he inspires us with terror.' ^ Take
upon you a human body, and draw out this thorn from
the world ; for none but you, among the inhabitants of
heaven, can destroy this sinner. Know that he for a
long time imposed on himself the most austere penance,
and that he rendered himself agreeable in the eyes of
the supreme father of all creatures. Thus the ineffable
dispenser of all graces bestowed on him the signal gift
of being invulnerable to all creatures, man excepted.
Since thus endowed, death, the terrible and sure, cannot
reach him except through man, go thou, powerful con-
queror of thy- enemies, go in human condition and slay
him. For this gift, which cannot be resisted, exalts to
the highest point the intoxication of his force. This vile
being torments the gods and men sanctified by peni-
tence ; and although destroyer of sacrifices, lacerator of
the sacred writings, enemy of the Brahmans, devourer
of men, this incomparable gift saves from death Ravana,
the wretched scourge of worlds. He dares to attack
kings defended by war-chariots and elephants ; others,
wounded and routed, are scattered hither and thither
before him. ' He has devoured saints, and inces-
santly in his delirium he takes pleasure in torment-
ing the seven worlds. As we have learned that he
is mortal to the stroke of man, — for he did not deign
to speak of him the day that this much-abused favour

^ Nârâyana, the universal soul, one of Visclinou"'s names, means the spirit
that moves over the primitive waters. This Sanscrit word naturally recalls the
idea and expression of the Bible, ' Et Spiritus Dei ferebatur super aquas.'

ORIENTAL PAGANISM. Gl

was granted him, — enter thou into a human body :
thou, who canst scatter thy enemies, cast Ufeless at
thy feet this proud Ravana, endowed with terrible
force, immeasurable pride, the enemy of all ascetics,
this worm that gnaws them, this cause of all their
groaning.'^ It is curious to find the Ramayana oppos-
ing asceticism to asceticism. The struggle between
Buddhism and Brahmanism may be reduced to a rivalry
of annihilation.

The worship of Yischnou or Chrishna gradually be-
came the most popular worship. Yischnou was the pro-
tective divinity, who, in order to succour man, lowered
himself to his level — a god drawn near, not a god far
off. Nothing can be more absurd than to compare his
incarnations with that of Christ. They are, by their
multiplicity alone, tinctured with the pantheistic idea.
The human personality is destitute of reality, since it is
taken up and laid down as a veil or mask, with which
the divinity invested himself for a moment. Moreover,
the degradation of the god was carried too far. He
descended to evil, and participated in human corrup-
tion. Accordingly, his worship among the people is
attended with gross, impure rites, possessing nothing
moralizing in it. Finally, it is in its popular form a
return to the divinities of Nature.^

The system of Joga, introduced into the Mahabarata,
counterbalanced Buddhism by making from it copious
borrowings. Yischnou, as the eternal soul of the world
and emanation of Brahma, was opposed to matter. Man
should seek to annihilate himself in him. In ordinary
life, he is to be honoured by moderation, disinterested-
ness, and charity.'^ But it is in the Pouranas especially,

^ Ramayana.

2 See on this subject an interesting article by M. Theod. Pavie, in the
Revue des deux Mondes of January 1858.
^ Dunker, t. ii., p. 243.

62 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISH!.

the date of which is posterior, that Yischnouism is fully
developed. The Bhagavat-Pouranas^ although the most
recent of Indian poems, bears evident trace of ancient
pantheism. Bhagavat, or Yischnou the Blessed, is the
god of gods, ' the cause and the effect, the soul and
sovereign, of the universe.'^ But this material universe
has no reality. Nature is beautiful, admirably beauti-
ful ; but is not the less the eternal Maïa, the false delu-
sion, the perfidious courtezan, whose embrace is to be
fled from. She appeared in a wood, whose trees were
covered with variegated flowers and yellow buds, the
most beautiful of women. Her figure seemed as though
it must dissolve while she stepped with nimble foot
hither and thither, sweet as a tender bud. Her large
eyes resembled the restless stars ; the curls of her hair
adorned her face ; her charming hand gathered up her
drapery. The magic charm that surrounded her shed
trouble in the universe.^ This enchanting Maïa is ma-
terial life, the misery and slavery of man. Perfection
consists in escaping from it by asceticism, and asceti-
cism should be carried to the point to which Buddhism
brings it. ' Action makes man live ; inaction secures
him immortality.' Let the recluse who sees truth
sacrifice illusion in the consciousness he has of the
spirit. Inactive, let him repose in the bosom of the
spirit, and let him restore to their order the different
elements of which his body is composed : let earth
return to water, water to light, light to wind, wind to
ether, ether into the higher principle of personality,
personality into intelligence, intelligence into nature,
and nature into the immutable spirit, — that, thus freed
from duality, he becomes extinct like to a fire whose
aliment is spent.

To lead men to this life of the spirit, was the purpose

^ Bhagavat-Pouranas, trad. Bournouf, liv. iii., c. yii.
- Liv. viii., c. xii.

ORIENTAL PAGANIS:\I. 63

for which Yischnou became incarnate. His incarna-
tions are multiplied to infinitude, because physical life
is without reality and individuality, without value. At
one moment he appears under the form of a man ;
next, under that of a fish, then of a wild boar, a
lion ; sometimes under that of a dwarf or of a hero.
The supreme being assumes or quits noble or mean
bodies, which have the attributes of heart, senses,
elements : he does so by his own power, remaining
distinct from these bodies.^ In those incarnations he
is like an actor who changes his costume.^ The object
of these incarnations is plainly indicated in the follow-
ing passage : — The uncreated being abandons the body
that he used in order to disencumber the earth of the
burthen that overwhelmed it, as we use one thorn to
draw out another. ^"^ The thorn is material life, which
Yischnou apparently takes on himself that he may the
more effectually destroy it.

Thus Vischnouism arrives at the sinister conclusion of
Buddhism — death, annihilation : so fatally do all the
religious ideas of India lead to the same conclusion.
In vain Nature spreads out her grand magnificence :
her splendid beauty is but a deceptive veil. The fol-
lower of Brahma, of Yischnou, or of Buddha, has
pierced through it with pitiless eye, and seen the perdi-
tion it covers. We cannot better describe this sombre
loathing of life than by quoting the most poetical of the
allegories of the Bhagavat-Pouranas, which, with admir-
able art, reproduces the enchantments of the Indian
forest as the brilliant image of human life, but mingled
with dark symbols that recall the malediction. ' Led by
illusion on a difficult road, the caravan of souls wanders
in the forest of existence, thirsting for happiness, but
unable to find it. Five brigands (the senses) pillage it.

^ Pouranas, Bournouf, liv. vii., c. ii.

- Liv, viii., c. viii. ^ Liv. i,, c. xv.

G 4 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Assailed in a forest, entangled with bindweed, grass, and
bushes, the traveller flies, carried on by his desires.
Tormented by the cries of invisible crickets, which tor-
ture his ears, and the voice of the screech-owl, that
agitates his heart, he stops, exhausted by hunger, near
poisonous trees, or rushes towards water which proves
a mirage. Now wishing to ascend a mountain, he steps
through thorns and stones, and stops at last, worn out.
Here he is seized by reptiles. Now seeking honey, he
is stung by the bees that produce it. Disputing with
his companions, losing the goods they take from him,
he falls down on the road overwhelmed with grief.
Leaving behind those who fall, the caravan marches on,
dragging in its course all those who are born. Not one
ever goes back on his steps. Now the traveller clings
to the branches of the bindweed, attracted by the songs
of the birds hidden within. He carries his chain with-
out hope of breaking it. No one knows the term of his
voyage.'^ Evidently, under such conditions, the best
that can be done is to break the chain one's self; and
this leads us to the essential principle of the religion
of India — asceticism and annihilation.

Is not this the final word of the religion of Nature,
the conclusion of its dualism ? It is no longer suffering
which is the evil, as in Phoenicia, or sterility and de-
struction, as in Egypt, or physical and moral darkness,
as in Persia. It is the world ; it is creation as creation ;
it is the universe as opposed to its principle ; it is the
ever-changing diversity of life as opposed to the eternal
and immutable. Thus, whilst in its first stage, in
Phoenicia, the devise of the religion of Nature was,
Enjoy ; in its second, in Egypt, it was, Endure ; in its
third, in Persia, Combat and live ; in its last. Die and
become extinct. Evidently the cycle of the religions
of Nature is filled up ;. but its influence on earth is im-

^ Bliagav.-Pour. liv. i., c. xiii.

PELASGIC MYTHOLOCJY. 65

mortal ; and we shall see later on by what large breach
Oriental asceticism penetrated into the heart of the
Christian Church/

THE PELASGIC MYTHOLOGY.

Whilst in the vast monarchies — framed in the image
of surrounding nature, that sprung up in those immense
plains of Asia which are intersected by lofty mountains,
and where none but the king rose above the level — reli-
gion never got beyond pantheism, sometimes monstrous,
sometimes grand, but always fatalistic, because affirm-
ing Nature's triumph over man, the latter vindicated
himself in a less favoured land — in one in which, being
nearly encircled by the sea, man was constantly soli-
cited to movement and action, and brought into the
great current of ideas and civilisation. Bounded on
the north by the Eastern Alps, the southern coasts of
Greece are bathed by the Mediterranean, in a latitude
nearly the same as that of Gibraltar, and facing one of
the most fertile provinces of Africa. Separated by the
sea from Italy, Africa, and Asia, it is linked to them by
its islands. Its climate is temperate ; and though it
promises no excessive fertility, it amply repays man's
labour. ' The Greeks,' says Thucydides, ' have learned
from their fathers that they must pay the price of
labour and effort in order to obtain any advantage."^
The interior of the country presents an animated variety :
mountains of moderate height, and smiling valleys ;
while, in the distance, an infinitely undulating line of
sea-coast forms fine natural harbours. It is not, then,
surprising to find in Greece a blending of nomadic and
agricultural life, and especially a great maritime deve-
lopment.

1 I^assen, in the first part of his 3d vol., has treated this last subject in
detail.

- Maury's Hist, of Greece.

E

66 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

If there is a fact acquired by cotemporary science, it
is the community of origin of the first inhabitants of
Greece and of the Aryans of Iran, whose traces we have
followed in the great empires founded on the banks of
the Euphrates and of the Ganges. The analogy of Greek
and Sanscrit is established. The words most in common
use in agricultural life are the same in both, proving that
before their separation the family of the two peoples
had already attained a certain degree of civilisation.^
We know the route followed by the first migration
which gave to Greece its first inhabitants and the germs
of its civilisation. These primitive inhabitants were
called Pelasgians, or wandering people ; and the name is
applied to all Aryan colonies before the properly called
historic periods. The religious and national centre of
these nomadic and warrior tribes appears to have been
Dodona. It was there, according to some writers, that
they took the name of Hellens, which was that of their
priests, called seers or illuminated^ because they adored
the god of heaven. The designation was then extended
to the whole people, and their country called the coun-
try of light. According to other writers, the Hellens^
like the Pelasgians, were a tribe of Aryan origin, who
drove the first migration towards the coasts and islands."
However this may be, it is certain that the Pelasgians
and Hellens belonged to the same family, and were the
first colonizers of Greece. This latter name, which was
chiefly used by the Romans, was, according to Hesiod,

^ Sheep among the Indians is awis ; among the Greeks, ois. The ox
among the first is gaus ; among the second, hous. House in Sanscrit is
damas; in Greek is domos. Door in Sanscrit is dvara ; in Greek, thura.
Vessel in Sanscrit is naus and plava ; in Greek, neus and ploion. — Dunker.
Maury'' s Hist, of the Religions of Greece.

2 The first opinion is held by Dunker (vol. iii., p. 13) ; the second
by M. Maury (vol. i., p. 38). The last derives the word Hellens from
i/Aùf, marsh., which refers to the marshy nature of their first dweUing-
place. Dunker derives the word from éA>j, signifying splendour of the
sun.

PKLASGIC MYTHOLOGY. ()7

derived from one of the fathers of the race, and had
been given to a locahty in the neighbourhood of
Dodona.

The Hellens were divided into four famihes : — 16*^,
The Achaians, or the good ; 2c/, the Eolians, or the
mixed, formed of a mixture of different tribes ; 3c/, the
lonians ; 4fA, the Dorians. The two last form the two
great Greek races, distinct in national genius and in
dialect. The first, driven back by some unknown mi-
gration, inhabited chiefly the coasts of Elis and the
islands of the Archipelago, and sent colonies into Asia
Minor. It was a maritime race, and eminently
susceptible to civilisation, but somewhat enervated
by contact with the East. The second, after having
sent colonies into Asia, ultimately established itself
in the Peloponnesus, and there developed into a mascu-
line, energetic people. It was at a later period that
these decided national distinctions became apparent,
when the character of each race was fashioned and
moulded by events. It did not, however, prevent the
formation of a common nationality.

It is certain that in the Pelasgic period the different
tribes, notwithstanding their dispersion, held in sub-
stance the same religion, which was that they carried
with them from the table-lands of Iran, and which is
expressed in the fresh brilliant poetry of the hymns of
the Rig Veda. It may have been slightly diversified in
its passage from one tribe to another. The maritime
divinities occupied amongst the lonians the rank occu-
pied by the solar divinities amongst the Dorians, but
both professed the same simple pantheism that deifies
whatever fascinates the childish imagination of human-
ity at a stage inferior to its religious development.
The deep, luminous sky ; the fertile earth ; the now
beneficent, the now terrible sea ; the refreshing springs ;
the trees in their rich foliage ; the victorious struggle

68 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

of the sun against darkness; — such were the objects of
this primitive worship ; such were the varied aspects of
this unduhiting divinity, still too much confounded
with the life of Nature for the different types personify-
ing it to be clearly distinguished one from the other.
The fundamental idea of the divinity amongst the
Pelasgians, as amongst the Aryans of the Indus, was
that of light, splendour, as is indicated by the root of
the word god in the two languages.^ The supreme god
in the old Pelasgic religion was Zeus, or the Jupiter of
Dodona, identical with the Jupiter of Arcadia, the bril-
liant, luminous god. It corresponds with the Indra of
the Rig Yeda. Like him, he launches the thunder-
bolts and the lightning; like him, he dwells in pure
air upon the tops of mountains ; like him, he gathers
the rain and produces the water in the fountains of
the valleys of Dodona. Indra was the divine hero
who fought against darkness and the clouds. Jupiter
combats the malevolent powers of the black Tartarus,
or the Titans, which are the spirits of darkness. The
militant side of the divinity, so marked in the Rig Veda,
reappears with singular energy in Pallas, the terrible
virgin, the blue-eyed. She combats in the midst of
the tempest. It was she that destroyed Gorgo, the
horrible serpent, — emblem of the darkness of a stormy
sky. Daughter of Jupiter, she is goddess of Athens.
The Pelasgic Apollo is in all points like her. He also
combats darkness, typified by the serpent Python, which
he destroys with his victorious dart. This recalls to us
the Yedic hymns which describe the triumph of Indra
over the serpent Ahi, emblem of the cloud which spreads
itself over the sky. ' He struck Ahi,' we read in the
Rig Yeda ; ' he poured the waters on the earth, and let
loose the torrents from the celestial mountains. He
took the thunderbolt, which he launched forth as a

^ Deva^ in Sanscrit ; Dew, in the Avesta; Theos, in Greek.

PELASGIC MYTHOLOGY. 60

dart ; and where his hand struck, the charms of the
enchanter were destroyed. Thou seemest to give birth
to the sun, the sky, to the dawn. The enemy disap-
pears at your approach.'^ Indra, after having rent the
cloud, pours fertilizing rain, and lets loose the mountain
torrents. Apollo is also the god of the Muses, who at
first personified the sacred fountains. He is the god of
Parnassus and Helicon, of the pure streams hidden in
Olympus, where poets, his favourites, come to drink
inspiration. The nymphs were another personification
of the rivers, and filled the parts of subordinate divini-
ties. The Dioscures, Castor and Pollux, sons of Zeus,
heroes and tutelar divinities of sailors, dissipating the
tempest by their prayers, appearing on white horses or
golden chariots, were luminous divinities like the pre-
ceding. They are identical with the two first rays of
the dawn, adored on the Indus under the name of
Acvim, mounted on cars swifter than the wind. Hera
or Juno, Artemisia, Selene, are feminine types of the
luminous divinity. All seem variations of the primitive
mythological theme.

If heaven was deified in the Rig Veda, the earth was
not less so. ' They form the immortal couple — the two
great parents of the world.' ^ The worship of the second
primordial divinity, the earth, was more developed
among the Pelasgic tribes than amongst the Indians :
they thus began giving their own impress to the wor-
ship they carried with them from Asia. It is true, in
a country like Greece, the earth, fertilized and moist-
ened by the sweat and labour of man, was dearer to
him than it can be in countries wdiich are either barren
as a desert, or so fertile as to need no culture. The
Pelasgians worshipped the earth under the name of

^ Rig Veda. See the interesting developments given by M. Maury to the
Asiatic myth of the Serpent, compared with the Greek myth (p. 130, 144).
2 Kig Veda ^'iii. 2, 4.

70 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Dêmeter, the nursing mother. She was a venerable
divinity, a chaste matron, having nothing in common
with the impure goddesses of Asia Minor. Ehea appears
to have been the Demeter or Ceres of Crete. She was
the wife of Saturn, who was the male type of the earthly
divinities, Hermes or Mercury, who is often confounded
with Pan. Aristgeus or Priapus was the god of flocks
and of animal fecundity. His name recalls that of the
Yedic god Sarameyas, charged to assemble together in
the heavens the flocks of fertilizing clouds, dispersed by
the breath of the evil demons. The Pelasgians placed
him on the earth, and made him the god of shepherds
and messenger of Jupiter. The sea, which surrounded
Greece on all sides, and whose varying aspects con-
stantly fixed the attention of the inhabitants of the
coasts, necessarily occupied a more prominent place in
Pelasgic mythology than it did in the Indian myths.
The god of the sea, Poseidon or Neptune, becomes a
sort of maritime Indra, more terrible and less helpful
than the other, but possessing irresistible power. He
sustains the earth, which he shakes at his pleasure.
The wild Bacchus, god of the vine and of foaming wine,
reminds us of Soma, the Yedic divinity personifying liba-
tions, and, in general, the liquid element in Nature.
Agni, the god of fire, celebrated in the Rig Veda, we
find in Yulcan, in Prometheus, and in Yesta, accord-
ing as we consider volcanic fire, industrial fire which
melts and fuses metals, or the fire of the domestic
hearth. Such are the principal divinities of the ancient
Pelasgic religion, brought, as we have seen, from the
Asiatic cradle of the race into Greece, where they be-
came modified in accordance with the new aspects of
the country colonized by the Hellens. The divinities
of earth and sea assume, if not the preponderance, at
least a most conspicuous place. The winds or harpies,
the high mountains, the souls of the dead, were all

PELASGIC MYTHOLOGY. 7 I

secondary objects of worship, admitted by the Pelasgic
as well as the Yedic religion.

Nothing can be simpler or more nude than the wor-
ship established by the Pelasgians. Instead of temples,
they had sacred enclosures for sacrifice, and grottoes
and woods dedicated to certain divinities that were
supposed to have made them their dwelling-place. The
deep shadows of oak-groves formed the sanctuary of
Dodona, and laurel-trees the temple of Delphi. Altars
were reared out of the sod ; and the gods represented by
symbolical stones, sometimes square, sometimes length-
ened into columns, or by coarsely carved pieces of wood.
The Pelasgians did not confine their offerings to liba-
tions and the first-fruits of the field. Feeling the
element of terror there is in Nature, they sacrificed to
it human victims. Faith in oracles, or the endeavour
to find out by material signs the will of the gods, ap-
pears at this early period to have taken root amongst
these ancient inhabitants of Greece. They had doubtless
received it from their fathers previous to their first mi-
grations. Art at this remote period was clumsy and
massive, hardly deserving the name, being applied to the
useful rather than the beautiful, the type and propor-
tions of which were then unknown. Walls, called
cyclopian, composed of huge blocks of irregular polygon
form, are the sole vestiges of those distant times. Their
gigantic ruins bear the marks of primitive barbarism,
and of the extraordinary but undisciplined force which
characterized the childhood of humanity.

It is difiicult to distinguish the historic groundwork
concealed beneath the legends of the heroic age of
Greece, on account of the additions and embellishments
made by the imagination of its poets. Two of these
legends evidently mark the important phases of the
pre-historic period. The war of the Lapithse and Cen-
taurs (the latter, half man half horse, intended no

72 rREPARATIOK FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

doubt to represent the savage dwellers on the moun-
tains) records the daily warfare that must have been
waged between the pacific inhabitants of the plains of
Thessaly and the nomadic tribes encamped on the ad-
jacent mountains.

In order to defend themselves, arose the necessity
for the former to build towns. The Lapithge, whose
name signifies constructor of walls, were in this way
led to lay the basis of a more stable civilisation. Thus,
about 1300 years before Christ, were built the towns
of Orchomenes, Thebes, Ilissus, Argos, Mycenae, and
ancient Corinth.

The second of these heroic legends which throws
some light over these dim times, is that concerning
Theseus, the Athenian hero. He is said to have been
the first to unite into one nation the small principalities
of Attica. Whatever part he may have taken in this
event, the fact is in itself of great importance ; since it
prepared the advent of that city, which was destined to
reflect such glory upon Greece, and which pre-eminently
represented its genius. But Theseus did not content
himself with his triumphs in Attica ; he slew the savage
monster of Crete, the Minotaur, to which the Athenians
had been condemned to make a yearly sacrifice of the
flower of their youth. The historical fact underlying
this myth is evidently the triumph of Greek genius
over Phoenician civilisation ; the latter, essentially mari-
time and conquering in its character, had struck root
in the islands contiguous to Attica, in Cythera and in
Crete. The female divinity of Western Asia, Aphrodite
or Astarte, was worshipped there. The female warriors,
the Amazons, were the priestesses consecrated to the
service of this cruel and impure Asiatic goddess, who
bore also the name of Ma. The Phoenicians had im-
ported this worship into Athens, as well as into Thessaly,
Thebes, and Orchomenes. Not far from this latter city,

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 73

on Mount Laphystion, Moloch was worshipped under
the name of Jupiter Laphystios, and human sacrifices
offered to him. The Minotaur, to which Athens had
to pay its annual cruel tribute, also typified this abomi-
nable divinity. Theseus, conqueror of the Minotaur
and Amazons, was the ideal type of the Greek mind
triumphant over the Asiatic, and achiever of that
independence without which there could be no deve-
lopment for Greece. The cycle so rich in myths con-
cerning the Trojan war, shows us the Greek genius
pursuing Asiatic genius on its own ground, and estab-
lishing its pre-eminence.

DEVELOPMENT OF HELLENIC HUMANISM.

The two great events of the heroic age were the con-
struction of cities, or the foundation of the different
states of primitive Greece, and the victorious reaction
of the Hellens against Asiatic pantheism. However
great the obscurity spread over this period, it is certain
it must have been a time of incessant warfare between
all those small states. In the struggle, Greek nation-
ality was forged, and powerful individualities, whose
memory has been preserved in the national myths,
then began to reveal the grandeur of the human cha-
racter. Heroism laid the foundations of that bold apo-
theosis of humanity which was so long celebrated on
the radiant summits of Olympus. Thus, when, about the
year 1104 b.c., the Dorian invasion caused a movement
of the populations, and planted at the same time the
two great Hellenic races in the countries most favour-
able to their genius, all was ripe for the definitive advent
of the national religion of Greece. The ancient religion
of Nature was to be effaced by the worship of deified
heroes. The Ionian race, owing to its more precocious
development, stimulated by its colonies in Asia Minor,

74 rRKPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

was about to give birth to that inimitable poet who,
while giving a voice to the aspirations of the Hellenic
conscience, created in the same breath the poetry and
religion of his country ; rather, let us say, the religion
of poetry and art, for it was that alone that Greece
ever seriously practised.

No trace has been found of any really literary works
existing before Homer. 'Many centuries must have
succeeded each other,' says Ottfried Millier, 'before
speech found wings, and the first hymn was chanted.'
Poetry was checked in its flight by the religion of
Nature, which was oppressive to human sentiment.
Strange that it should have been the mourning of earth
in winter that first moved them to song, and that the
first hymn sung in Greece should be a lamentation.
It was called the Linus ^ from its referring to the tragi-
cal end of a demigod of this name, dying in the bloom
of youth. It symbolized, like Adonis and Atys, the
termination of the beautiful season, and the moment
when winter began. The first accent of the Greek
muse — the muse that was afterwards so serene — was
an ' Alas !' ' Alas ! Linus,' — thus began the mournful
song. The Pœan was a song in honour of Apollo.
Funeral or hymeneal songs, choruses or songs accom-
panying the dance, oracles in verse, sum up the poetry
of these ancient times. It was essentially sacerdotal
poetry, which, far from being a play of imagination,
was a prescribed and monotonous ceremony. Its cradle
was Thessaly, where flowed the sacred fountains of the
muses. This sacerdotal subjection, perpetual in the
East, did not continue long in Greece. The free fertile
genius of the Hellenic race was roused during the heroic
age. Grand figures stood out from a grand background,
and the memory of the exploits of those heroes created
a truly human ideal in the minds of their descendants.
There was no longer that sterile bewilderment inspired

HELLENIC HUMANISM. ( ,")

by the spectacle of the irresistible forces of Nature.
They had caught a glimpse of a higher force, the power
of intelligence and freedom, which had been so often
exhibited in the struggles that attended the formation
of the different states. This power, concentrated on a
narrower field, bore a deeper impress of the individual
character than it did in the revolutions of the vast em-
pires of Asia. It matters little that the victories of
Hercules and Perseus belong to fable : the sentiment
revealed by these myths is not the less an historical
fact, surpassing in importance all others, since it was
this sentiment that moulded Greece, its history as well
as its religion. The idea of the hero — that is to say,
the conception of a human ideal — was the landmark
dividing the West from the East, — the land of light,
the enchanting land of Hellas from that vast empire
prostrate under the inflexible law of Nature. The
wakening up of this human sentiment first manifested
itself in the freedom of poetry, which broke away from
the sacerdotal yoke, and became lay and warlike. The
poet no longer confines his song to the praises of the
divinity : he sings the glory of heroes ; he sings at
festivals when the cup circulates from hand to hand,
and joy is in all hearts. The rhapsodist succeeded to
the sacred bard. He becomes the harmonious echo of
national traditions, and has a place assigned him at all
solemn banquets and public ceremonies.

The Greeks loved to hear unfolded their grand heroic
legend, and prizes were awarded to him who best suc-
ceeded. In this way, with the praises of the great
deeds of their ancestors ever sounding in their ears,
the descendants of those heroes conceived an enthusiasm
for them which soon became worship ; rather, let us
say, it reformed the ancient worship.

The names or works of none of those early rhapsodists
have come down to us. Their memorj^ was eclipsed by

76 rKEPAKATlON FOK CHRISTIxVîslTY IN PAGANISM.

the immortal bard who, 900 b.c., unitmg the splendour
of the Asiatic genius to the harmony of the Greek, con-
structed in two incomparable poems the real Pantheon
of Hellenism — a temple of heroes built with dazzling
marble, and inundated with all the joyous brightness of
a morning sun. The Iliad and Odyssey are a complete
apotheosis of humanity, or rather of Greek nationality.
While the Aryans of India strove to strip their gods of
all individuality, and were not satisfied until they had
immersed them in the fathomless abyss of Brahminical
pantheism, the Aryans of the West, starting from the
same point, endeavoured with a firm hand to charac-
terize the features of their first divinities, to reject what
was vague, to give precise outlines, — to raise them, in
fine, out of the impersonal life of physical nature to the
rank and dignity of personal free beings. Homer, in
attributing to the gods the qualities of heroes, was the
most powerful religious reformer of his race ; rather,
he was its most admirable interpreter in the evolution
accomplished by it after the heroic age. The life of the
gods is represented by him as human life in its highest
power. Olympus is an ideal Greece : the gods form a
council of Hellenic kings, of which Jupiter is the Aga-
memnon. He no longer aims, as in the Pelasgic mytho-
logy, which was but an echo of the East, at symbolizing
the ever-varying aspects of Nature, but rather gives a
living picture of history, or the development of the free
spontaneous forces. Jupiter is no longer the Yedic
Indra, the sun vanquishing darkness, but a great
king, which we may figure to ourselves seated on a
throne, sceptre in hand. He deliberates, acts, inter-
feres directly in man's affairs. It is the same with
Juno, who, as his wife, has the sentiments of a woman
and queen.

Minerva is an entirely intellectual divinity. The
bi'ightness of her blue eye is not simply the image of a

HELLENIC HUMANISM.

cloudless azure sky, but is also the reflection of thought.
She is the wise protecting divinity, who introduces order
into the combat. It is the same with the other gods.
The most brilliant Homeric creation is that of Venus,
the exquisite daughter of the sea, image of soft beauty
and bewitching grace. If Homer's gods were idealized
human personalities, they had all our passions and weak-
nesses. They have their favourites and their enemies ;
sometimes they fight in one camp, sometimes in the
other. They are susceptible of hatred, jealousy, sen-
sual passion. They have neither omniscience nor omni-
potence. They are taller in stature and more perfect in
beauty than man, but their nature is the same ; their
body needs nourishment, their blood flows at the touch
of the sword or lance ; and if their cry shakes the earth,
still it proves they were liable to pain. All were sub-
ject to the mysterious power of destiny. If they had
the weaknesses of humanity, they had also its grandeur;
for on one side — the moral — man touches God. Nor
is this wanting in the Homeric mythology. The moral
sentiments that preside at the constitution of the city
and of the family we find amongst the gods. Jupiter
is the great shepherd of the temple, the chief ^ar excel-
lence^ the father of his subjects. With his awful frown
he makes earth tremble, but he is appeased by the
prayers of suppliants. He is the god of justice, of the
domestic hearth ; the protector of the exile, of the
beggar ; the vigilant guardian of hospitality. The reli-
gion of Nature never conceived this moral ideal ; and,
notwithstanding the gross legends that obscure it, yet
it announces an undoubted progress. On the other
side, courage, fidelity, frankness, respect of right, all
those virtues which we may term elementary, are held
up to honour.

The trials of Ulysses, the attachment of his wife and
son, the whole drama of the Odyssey, in its touching

78 PRKPAKATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

simplicity, exalt the moral idea. We must confess,
however, that these divinities, so constantly compro-
mised in strange adventures, and so passionately mixed
up in the quarrels of men, favoured impiety rather than
the sentiment of veneration for sacred things. Such
gods could only inspire the fear of a slave, or the base-
ness of a courtier seeking to buy the favour of a king
more powerful but not better than himself If the
mythological evolution of Greece still needed a long
purifying process before reaching its culminating point,
yet had it made two important conquests. The gods
appear as free personal beings, and, in spite of what is
still impure and incoherent about them, the moral idea
begins to manifest itself The ancient personifications
of Nature, which were numerous in the Pelasgic reli-
gion, were retained, and the ancient myths adopted ;
but were bound together as by the zone of Yenus, of
which the Iliad speaks, that image of light and delicate
grace. In passing through the imagination of Homer,
they were steeped in the freshest and most brilliant
poetry — poetry that harmonized all it touched. Instead
of the immense confused poems of Indian pantheism,
we have a poem in which everything is linked together,
and the parts of which form one harmonious whole.
We are no longer in presence of grotesque creations,
uniting the most heterogeneous elements. The types
are moulded in the proportions of beauty, and are drawn
with perfect clearness, introducing us to a world at
once real and ideal. Heroes and gods move, speak,
and act under our eyes. It seems as if the light and
golden atmosphere of Greece breathed through this
radiant poetry, such is the serenity and freshness of its
colouring, such the fidelity and living splendour with
which it reproduces the first dawn of the Hellenic race
in the midst of combats and banquets. In the Iliad
and Odyssey we breathe, as it were, the candour and

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 79

health of childhood ; but it is the childhood of the finest
genius enraptured with the spectacle spread before its
eyes, yet mastering it by thought. The aesthetic value
of Homer s poems is more than a literary fact ; it is a
religious fact, for it announces a triumph over the reli-
gion of Nature.

But this perfect poetic creation has one sombre side.
Earth only is beautiful : it is the present life only that
is filled with the gifts of the gods. Hades, or the realms
of the dead, inspires horror and fear. Achilles, the
ideal hero, declares he would rather till the ground than
reign in pale Elysium, carrying about him the regret of
all he once possessed — glory, love, and power. Within
Tartarus, the prison shut, with triple ramparts and gates
of iron, are the Titans and Saturn, where the guilty
hear the inexorable gates close down on them for ever.
This melancholy view of the future life is the great im-
perfection of the Homeric religion, — we may say, of
that of all Greece. We shall see that it was the desire
of lighting up with a ray of hope these sombre regions
which gave rise to the Mysteries, and to which they
owed their success. Worship, as Homer described it, re-
tained still its primitive simplicity : the priestly office
was exercised by kings and by fathers of the family; and
if there were priests and soothsayers, they did not form
an exclusive caste. Libations, prayers, and sacrifices,
intended to appease the anger of the gods by inviting
them to sumptuous banquets, and offering what man
most prized, constituted the rites of this worship, which
was celebrated on altars placed on wooded hills. Rude
temples now began to be reared.

Hellenism underwent its first purification in the
hands of Hesiod. While Homer represents the brilliant,
plastic, Ionian genius, Hesiod belongs to the severer and
less flexible Dorian type. ^ We shall not find in him,'
says Ottfried Miiller, ' the young imagination of Homer,

80 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

which painted the heroic age with such grace and splen-
dour. Hesiod looked at human life with a melancholy
eye. He did not, like the first, move in a world of
imagination, but within the circle of toiling life, as his
poem, "Works and Days," proves.'

We also find in Hesiod the influence of the philo-
sophic poetry which had just appeared at Milet. His
myths are essentially metaphysical, and his poems bear
the trace of the mythological crisis which the Hellenic
conscience had passed through in rising from the reli-
gion of Nature to that of humanity. The Titans repre-
sent the old religion ; whilst the Jupiter of Hesiod, the
young and conquering god, symbolizes the new evolu-
tion and the advent of humanism. Yet Hesiod elo-
quently expresses his regret of the past — ' Would that
I had not been born in the hard age of iron ! '

The ancient gods appear superior to the new, although
the latter indicate the progress of the moral idea. It
is that the moral id.ea, powerfully excited, found it hard
to adjust itself with the impure alloy that tainted the
Homeric divinities. Conscience, forgetting that its first
yoke was far more ignominious, flies back and bows
before divinities that distance renders respectable. This
was the eternal inconsistency in Greece, and one of the
causes of the development of the Mysteries, which were
a return to the old gods — to the gods of the earth and
Hades, the elder brothers of the Titans. The moral
idea is placed in bright relief by Hesiod. The wife of
Jupiter is, not Juno, but Metis, or the Mind. Themis,
or Justice, is also united to him, and by her he becomes
father of the Fates, who were moral powers. Justice,
he says, always ends in being triumphant in human
affairs ; and if her way is steep, if the gods placed
sweat and pain in the path of virtue, the road grows
easier along the heights.^ Such words show how real

' Opera et Dies.

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 81

the progress made in the interval between Homer and
Hesiod. It is still more evident in the period that fol-
lowed, which extends to the reign of Alexander, em-
bracing the time of the fullest maturity and the richest
bloom of Hellenic civilisation. Everything contributed
to prepare the way for this epoch, when Greece really
attained the ideal she had proposed to herself. Man, for
the first time in Paganism, arrived at the consciousness of
his individuality, of his moral value as a free being. The
democracy had almost everywhere replaced monarchy ;
the city governed itself; and as long as patriotism pre-
dominated, the Greek intellect derived fresh impulse
from these new institutions. The constant contact of
citizens amongst themselves, the agitations of the agora,
the intestine struggles, and competition of city with
city, — all these causes combined, favoured the growth
of the national genius. The war with Persia, in which
the East and West strove for pre-eminence, confirmed
the triumph of Hellenism, and gave to it the legitimate
exultation of victorious patriotism. Herodotus relates
that, at the battle of Salamis, the phantom of a woman
was seen to pass through the Athenian galleys, crying,
Forw^ard ! This woman may be supposed to have been
the genius, the soul of Greece, urging on towards their
glorious destinies the descendants of heroes. Real
heroism succeeded to legendary heroism. Miltiades and
Themistocles inscribed with their swords an historical
Iliad, almost as grand as the other, and which certainly
flowed from it ; for the genius of Homer had fashioned
this handful of warriors, before whom retired the innu-
merable army of the Great King.

The Persian war had, besides, another result : it gave
a centre and focus to Western civilisation. Athens,
which had served the national cause with such courage
and success, became the intellectual metropolis of
Greece. It was admirably fit for this position. The

¥

82 PKEPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Athenians possessed the facile, brilliant genius of the
Ionian race ; but they were lonians of Europe, and
consequently endowed with greater vigour than those
of Asia Minor.

Athens was placed in the most favourable conditions
for the cultivation and perfecting of the Greek intellect.
The beauty of its situation inspired its inhabitants with
a deep enthusiasm, of which we find the expression in
the famous chorus of Œdipus at Colonna. Its enchant-
ing valleys ' are embellished, under the dew of heaven,
with the richest vegetation, crown of the great goddesses :
there the olive tree, with its ever- verdant foliage, grows ;
the murmuring fountains pour their inexhaustible waters
along the fertile plains ; and Aphrodite, with her golden
zone, seems each moment rising out of the sparkling
sea which bathes the city, and which heaves beneath
the incessant oars of the boats that fly in pursuit of the
Nereids. The chorus of the Muses never forsakes it.'
This last stroke of the great poet recalls the chief glory
of Athens. Eloquence, poetry, art, history, philosophy,
reached under Pericles a degree of perfection we shall
never see again ; for nowhere else shall we find huma-
nity endowed with such richness of youth, or with such
wonderful gifts. But, if Athens was the centre of Hel-
lenic culture, Athens never altogether absorbed it ; each
race furnished its contingent ; and the Dorian genius
united with the Ionian to increase the glory of their com-
mon country. A rapid glance at the history of literature
and art during this period will enable us to follow the
progressive development of Greece, and to comprehend
the development of its religious conscience.

The epopee was long the only poetic form cultivated
in Greece. Consecrated to the glory of heroes, and repro-
ducing constantly the same cycle of legends, transmitted
from rhapsodist to rhapsodist like a tradition, it was
adapted to a period when human personality was im-

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 83

perfectly developed ; for the epopee after Homer, when
it passed from the greatest of poets to imitators,
was essentially impersonal. As soon as individualism,
fostered by democratic institutions, conquered its
rights, a new form was created, in which the senti-
ments and impressions of the poet had fuller play : this
was the lyric form. Tyrtseus and Simonides allowed
their hearts to speak in the elegies they composed ; and
Archilochus employed his terrible iambics as a weapon
of vengeance. The individual character is still more
pronounced in the Lesbian poetry, such as we find it in
Sappho and Anacreon, — a consuming fire m the heart
of the first, a fine brilliant light and a voluptuous
playfulness in the second. But it was the Dorian race
that gave Pindar, the Homer of lyrists, to Greece.
Pindar, the Boeotian poet, was the singer of all Greece,
more than had been his predecessors Alcman, Stesi-
chore, Ibichus. ' He belongs,' says Ottfried Miiller, ^ to
that age of the Greek people which we may charac-
terize as the full vigour of youth and the beginning of
maturity, in which practical energy and the thirst for
intense activity were combined, as they had been at no
other epoch, with moral and aesthetic culture.'^ Pindar
was filled with the great Hellenic idea of the hero, of
the Greek ideal. He reverts to it over and over again
in his odes. It was, he says, a divinity that the
people should worship. He never tires of going back
to the heroic age ; and the best homage he can render
the victors in the Olympic games is to remind them of
their heroic ancestors, and to celebrate their exploits.
It is because they resemble those heroes that their bark
has skimmed the last limit of bliss. Pindar thus effec-
tively contributed to define clearly the fundamental
creed of the Greek religion. Nor did he less contribute

^ Ottfried Miiller, t. i., p. 139. See also a fine passage from M. Villemaiu
on Pindar {Correspondent^ August 1857).

84 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

to purify it by exalting the idea of the divinity. He
describes Jupiter as a just, wise god — ' the blessed
whom the souls of the just sing.' The judgment he
passes on human life is profound : he recognises the
misery and brevity ^ of this dream of a shade,' attri-
buting its misery to pride, and its fleeting joy to the
benevolence of the gods. ^Agod,' he says, 'is in all
our joys.'

The advent of the great dramatic poetry coincides
with the complete triumph of Hellenism over the reli-
gion of Nature. The drama is not possible as long as
man is held to be the slave and sport of natural forces.
While this notion prevails, there can be but one per-
sonage on the stage — Nature. All that art can then
do, is to paint the regular revolutions of Nature in sym-
bols more or less expressive, such as those of Adonis
and Osiris. But it is otherwise when human personality
comes into action ; henceforth the chief interest is fixed
on its destin}^ It comes forth in all its solemn gran-
deur, and with it we are ushered into the moral world.
But into this, Paganism never fully penetrated, held
back as it was by the half-broken chains of dualism.
The tragedy of the Greeks, like their religion, was still
impregnated with the fundamental idea of the religions
of Nature — irresistible fatality, the mysterious fatum,
the Egyptian sphynx, that disturbed the harmony and
serenity of Hellenism ; but we are made to feel that it
is upon a moral creature, partly conscious of his liberty,
that this fatality weighs. It is this contrast between
the grandeur of man, such as JEschylus and Sophocles
portrayed him, and the wretchedness of his destiny,
that constitutes the great pathos of these ancient tra-
gedies. But even here all is not abandoned to fatality ;
it is invariably some latent crime that arms her aveng-
ing hand. The moral idea is still wrapped in obscu-
rity, but it transpierces it with its radiance, and at

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 85

times escapes altogether, appearing in its own serene
beauty/

JEschylus is the great lyrist of tragedy. With him
the chorus occupies the chief place. His nervous
coloured language, condensing a whole picture into
a metaphor, a long despair into an imprecation, is
the inflexible instrument of a daring and almost Ti-
tanic genius. His national dramas, which, according to
his own expression, breathe the breath of Mars, are
filled with the martial enthusiasm that throbbed in
every Greek heart on the morrow of the victory over
the Persians. His religious dramas initiate us into the
struggles and torments of the conscience, when placed
between an ancient religion which becomes idealized
because only seen in the past, and a new religion which,
though in itself superior, is yet unsatisfying. His tra-
gedy, entitled the Eumenides^ is especially remarkable
in this respect. We hear the complaints of the old
divinities against the young new god Apollo. They pour
forth savage imprecations against Jupiter, who held in
chains old Saturn. Personifying the terrors of con-
science, they protest in its name against the purely
aesthetic religion of Olympus.

Is not this also the deep meaning of the strange
sublime drama of the chained Prometheus ? The old
Titan's comforters are those who have been vanquished
by Jupiter, from old Ocean to the nymph lo, the inno-
cent object of his fury ; and we note his mysterious
prophecy of a new god, whose shaft would one day
reach his persecutor. This is a sublime presentiment
of the power of conscience. No writer of pagan anti-
quity made the voice of conscience speak with the same
power and authority that ^schylus did. ' Crime,' he
says, ' never dies without posterity.' ' Blood that is

^ See M. Patin's beautiful work on the Greek Tragedy, the 2d edition of
■which has just appeared.

S() TREPAKATIOX FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

shed congeals on the ground, crying out for an avenger.'
The old poet made himself the echo of what he calls
' the lyreless h3'mn of the Furies,' who, with him, re-
present severe Justice striking the guilty when his hour
comes, and giving warning beforehand by the terror
which haunts him. ^schylus was evidently influenced
by the Mysteries, which were an attempt to calm the
torments of conscience regarding a future life by the
development of the worship of the Earth-divinities.
Nor is it surprising that he should have been charged
with having betrayed the secret.

With Sophocles, tragedy made a great advance. He
created the human tragedy — the psychological drama.
He, who in early youth was famous for his exquisite
beauty, and who at the age of ninety-five compelled
his judges to acquit him by reading in their presence
the chorus of Œdipus at Colonna, — he represented all
that was finest in the Greek genius, for he represented
its ideal. His transparent, limpid language corresponds
w^ith the beauty, the serenity of his inspiration. While
^schylus reveals to us the sombre, terror-stricken side
of conscience, personified in the Eumenides, Sophocles
shows us the divine and luminous side. What an ex-
quisite type of grace and purity he created in his
Antigone ! — born, as she says, not to hate but to love ;
who, after having accompanied her father into exile and
poverty, refuses to return evil for evil upon her parri-
cidal persecutor, and prefers death rather than be faith-
less to the inspirations of her heart. Antigone has the
courage of a saint and the poetic weakness of a G-reek
virgin^ who, while devoting herself a voluntary victim,
yet mourns the loss of the bright sun and her own un-
wedded lot ; but devotion and piety absorb her whole
being. A divine breath seems to animate this sublime
creation, in which the tenderness of woman is allied to
the heroism of duty. It would seem as if the heaven of

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 87

Greece had opened, and a foregieam fell from depths
which later on were revealed to humanity by the God
whose sacrifice taught charity. No one has ever
spoken with nobler eloquence than Sophocles of moral
obligation — of this immortal, inflexible law, ^ in which
dwells a God that never grows old.' The religious in-
spiration that animates him breaks out with incompar-
able beauty in the last w^ords of Œdipus, when the old
banished king sees through the darkness of death a
mysterious light dawn, which illumines his blind eyes,
and which brings to him the assurance of a blessed
immortality.

We can understand how great must have been the
influence of an JEschylus and a Sophocles, from the
religious point of view, in the Athens of Pericles. If
Euripides obeyed a lower inspiration, — if in him we
recognise the poet of the Sophists, who makes a jest of
the gods and of the idea of divinity, — yet the pathetic
development he gives to individual passions proves how
completely humanism had assimilated to itself the Greek
conscience. The keen satires of Aristophanes counter-
balanced his influence, though manifesting in their way
the triumph of human religion over the worship of
Nature. Comedy is the result of the contrast existing
between man as he is in reality, and man as he ought
to be and might be. It presupposes his liberty : take
away his liberty, and there is nothing shocking or ridi-
culoLis in avarice or cowardice. Nobody mocks the
hare, but we all laugh at the coward.

Aristophanes carried the ancient comedy to perfec-
tion. His dramatic conceptions are as extraordinary
for their daring and invention, as they are revolting for
their cynicism. To a fancy full of originality, he unites
the most literal portraiture of the actual world ; at one
moment he wallows in obscenit}", the next he rises to
the finest Ivrical vein, as in the chorus of the Clouds.

88 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Aristophanes' fame balances that of Sophocles and
^Eschylus. Neither Cratinus, nor Menander the father
of the comedy of manners and character, who with deli-
cate hand painted the manners of the corrupt society
in which the courtesans were the prominent figures,
— neither of these equalled Aristophanes in power of
invention.

The advent of literary prose was a fact of deep im-
port, denoting more than any other the progress of
Greek civilisation. Poetry, which is the essential pro-
duct of inspiration, is more impersonal than prose ; the
latter being the deliberate, selected language of the
historian, orator, and philosopher. It is the language
of action. Fine prose supposes an advanced state of
society, in which the individual finds all his rights
recognised. Herodotus carried the epic spirit into his
prose. With Pericles and Thucydides it became pre-
cise and energetic, but retaining, by the harmony of its
periods and its logical construction, all its aesthetic
value. The perfection of Plato's prose rivals that of
the finest poetry; whilst Isocrates and the Sophists
enervate and reduce it to a mere music of words that
merely charm the ear. At a later epoch it rose to the
full height of its power with Demosthenes, when from
the tribune of Athens went forth the grand voice of a
free people repelling the yoke of the foreigner.

An analogous development took place in art, which
in Greece, more than in any other country, expresses
and resumes the different phases of civilisation, and the
different crises of religious thought.^ Rude and shape-
less during the Pelasgic period, it attempted nothing
beyond temples of wood, without grace or symmetry ;
nor did the artist aim at producing any representations
of the gods which were not distinct personalities, but
vague personifications of the forces of Nature. They

^ See Ottfried Muller's Arcliseologie.

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 89

contented themselves with symbolical signs, such as
rudely cut stones or columns. Such were the antique
Hermes, to which were afterwards added some impure
symbols. Art continued to be long chained down, even
after the heroic ideal had shone out in the poetry of
Homer and his immediate successors. They endeavoured
to represent the divinity by rudely carved images in
wood, but they failed in giving life and movement to
these early statues. The feet were not separated, the
eyes were marked by a stroke, and the arms attached to
the body. The artists of this remote period were styled
Dasdelus. The painting on the sacred vases bore the
same character of immobility. During the period that
followed (580 to 460 b.c.) artistic development corre-
sponded with the development of Hellenism. Architec-
ture, which had emancipated itself from its primitive
barbarism, reached a high degree of perfection in the
construction of temples : two of its orders express very
significantly the twofold genius of Greece. Whilst the
Doric column, springing immediately from the soil, and
devoid of all complex ornamentation of its capitals, was
the faithful expression of the masculine, energetic
spirit of the Dorian race, the Ionian column, resting on
a base, and with fluted pillar terminating in a convo-
luted capital, reproduced the grace and vivacity of the
Ionian race.

The Greek temples, which at first only admitted
columns in the façade, now began to multiply and dis-
pose them round the cella — the immediate sanctuary of
the god. They began already to assume that character
of symmetry and unity which makes one harmonious
plan, and not an edifice of indefinite proportions, as
in Egypt, or a monstrous pagoda, as in India ; but here
the different parts of the building are each in its proper
place, and so grow out of each other as to give the im-
pression of a complete whole. The beauty of Greek

90 rREPARAÏION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANIS:\I.

architecture does not consist in gigantic forms, nor in
profusion of costly materials, but in its proportions and
symmetr}^, in the gracefulness of its lines and con-
tours. It is an intellectual, not a material beauty.
It would have been as impossible for Oriental pan-
theism to have produced this style of beauty as that it
should have written an Iliad. Sculpture did not keep
pace with architecture. Religious sculpture is more
tardy, being more bound up with tradition. It con-
tented itself with carving wood and overlaying it with
ivory and gold, in which the aesthetic value was sacri-
ficed to ornamentation. The god's were represented
seated, with a solemn and austere expression spread
over their countenances.

Lay sculpture had freer play. The human model,
which now began to be copied, was supplied in its
greatest beauty by the Hellenic race, and gymnastic
games favoured the study. They began by ornament-
ing the friezes of their temples with statues consecrated
to the memory of the heroic ages. The marbles of
^gina, now at Munich, belong to this period. They
enable us to understand what was meant by the ancient
style. This style is characterized by the regularity of
the folds of its drapery ; by the symmetrical curls of
the hair, the tension of the fingers, and the general
stiffness of the whole figure. Still the statue is not
trammelled and motionless as in the preceding period.
There is movement, though one of mechanical regu-
larity. The features are strongly marked ; but as yet
no soul shines through them, no ray of beauty beams
out from within. The period following this (from Peri-
cles to Alexander, 560 to 330 b.c.) is the grand epoch
of Greek art. While ^schylus and Sophocles gave in
their poetry sublime expression to the ideal as it was
conceived by the Hellenic race, Phidias carved it in
marble, gold, and ivory, and found means to purif}^ and

HKLLENIC HUMANISM. 91

ennoble while embodying it. The statue does not seem
merely to move as in the preceding period, but becomes
living under the chisel of the great artist. It has the
suppleness, the easy motion, the liberty of life, and an
indefinable serene grace which has never since been re-
produced. Incessu jjatuit dea. These marbles breathe,
as the poet says. We have only to compare the Greek
and Egyptian statues in order to seize the difference
between the two civilisations. Humanism emancipated
the individual. Henceforth he walks and moves freely ;
his hands and feet are no longer bound ; life animates
the once inert bod}^ Man steps as a conqueror over
the earth, to which he is no longer a slave ; and the
lightness of his airy tread announces his liberty. His
arm flings the dart, his hand lifts the spear, with heroic
grace. We see he has thrown off the yoke of Nature.
The young triumphant god which, in a celebrated
statue, is represented in all the pride of his victory over
the serpent Python, is the radiant image of this victory
of humanity over the ancient divinities. What is most
admirable in the great works of sculpture belonging to
this period, is the union of beauty and majesty, — the
sweet, grave serenity spread over features most noble
and of exquisite outlines. ' The soul,' says Winckel-
mann, ' manifests itself as through the tranquil surface
of w^ater, — no impetuous movement. In the represen-
tation of the greatest grief, the grief is concentrated ;
and joy flows like a zephyr that gently touches the
leaves.' No nation ever more fully expressed its genius
through its works than did the Greeks. We may
figure to ourselves Greece itself in the representations
of its favourite goddesses, exalting in the human being
both dignity and beauty, at once serene and majestic,
possessing grace and grandeur, ready for the combat as
for the feast, — rather making all life a feast in honour
of its gods, and placing its glory in preserving this

92 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

august calm, this ataraxie^ — image, but delusive image,
of real peace. In Greek art there is no contrast to
shock between the real and the ideal, because the ideal
was not sought beyond earth. The artist found what
was most beautiful in the actual world to represent
this limited ideal. Thus we find no signs of torment
in his style ; he breathed into his work the felicity he
felt within his own soul, and which was kept alive by
the facility with which he created these incomparable
types. We feel that such a moment could only be ex-
perienced once in the course of the progress of huma-
nity, and that that moment must necessarily have been
brief

We have already named the supreme artist. The
Pallas and Olympian Jupiter of Phidias are his two
masterpieces, and the masterpieces of sculpture itself
These statues, executed in the most costly materials
and in colossal proportions, give a sublime' expression
of majesty and beauty to the divinity, and helped to
purify the religious idea. The fragments of the friezes
of the Parthenon prove that the great sculptor knew
as well how to represent the fury of a battle as the
supreme calm of the divinity. But, whatever the sub-
ject he treated, he was always faithful to his high ideal,
and preserved the exquisite beauty of form. Polyclete
of Sicyon, the author of the Juno of Argos, was the
worthy rival of Phidias ; after him, Praxiteles and
Scopas. Not less skilled in the sculpturing of marble,
but obedient to a less noble inspiration, it was the
voluptuous beauty of Aphrodite that they loved to re-
produce. The Venus of Praxiteles breathes voluptuous-
ness : not a gross voluptuousness which would exclude
it from the domain of art, but a refined, delicate voluptu-
ousness, not the less dangerous. We feel that the reign
of the courtesans has begun, and that Greece has fallen
from the serene heights she had for a moment reached.

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 9

Q

Still, some of the works of Scopas belong to the grand
period. It is sufficient to cite the Pythian Apollo and
the Niobe group. In this latter work the representa-
tion of the most cruel anguish takes nothing from the
calm beauty of the figures. Lysippus, continuator of
the school of Argos, devoted himself to the reproduction
of athletes : Hercules is his favourite type. Painting
shed its light over this period. Zeuxis and Parrhasius,
and the painters of the school of Sicyon, of whom
Apelles was the chief, united brilliancy of colouring
to grace of execution. Still, Greek painting was neces-
sarily inferior to Greek statuary. Christianity alone
could carry it to perfection, by opening up the inner
world of the soul, and offering to the rich resources of
the palette the infinite scale of human sentiment. But
architecture, the elder sister of sculpture, profited by
the progress, and reached at the same time its apogee.
It suffices to mention the Parthenon, which is to Greek
temples what the Jupiter Olympus is to Greek statues.
The Parthenon was dedicated to the intellectual di-
vinity adored at Athens. This edifice, which borrowed
from the Doric order the simplicity of its columns, had
a character of serious beauty in harmony with the wor-
ship of the immortal Virgin. The most exquisite
elegance reigns throughout. The Corinthian order,
substituting the acanthus leaf for the Ionian convolu-
tion, dates from this period of unequalled artistic
fecundity. The temple of Jupiter Olympus, orna-
mented with Phidias' celebrated statue, is a sample of
its grandeur. It is the imposing temple of triumphant
humanism, and consequently the central-point of Hel-
lenism.

Religion was so intimately interwoven with art that
it shared its growth, and passed through the same
purifying influences. But we must bear in mind that
there was always a double current of religious ideas in

94 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Greece — one spiritualist, the other tainted by impure
legends. Unfortunately, these contradictory divinities,
in which conscience and the passions may recognise
themselves, stood historically on equal footing. Jupiter
at this period became more and more the sovereign god
— the leader of all things, creator of heaven and earth.
He sees the guilty actions of men, and accordingly is
the god of justice. If he strikes, he can also console,
and is the refuge of mortals. ' The god of supplicants,'
says ^schylus, ' is moved to anger when the cry of the
unhappy is not heard.' He is the god of the city — the
protector of the domestic hearth — the vigilant guardian
of the sacred rites of hospitality. He is pre-eminently
the Greek god: all Greece bowed with equal respect be-
fore the sublime image of Jupiter Olympus, the most
majestic representation of humanized divinity. The
other divinities underwent the same transformations.
Juno is the legitimate wife of Jupiter, and shares his
attributes. She is the ideal matron. Athene or Mi-
nerva occupies a leading place in this transfigured
Olympus. She represents the intellectual side of the
supreme god — his wisdom and prudence, accompanied
by the calm courage that secures success in battle.
Thought shines from her pure lofty brow. She is armed
with the warlike spear, and protects both artist and
labourer. The savage Ares or Mars is eclipsed b^ her,
and falls into the second rank, though the attribute of
justice is allowed him. Neptune, equally with Mars
and Yulcan, retains his ancient attributes. Idealiza-
tion was a more difficult process in the case of divini-
ties so bound up with the life of Nature. Neither Mer-
cury nor Pluto underwent any important modifications.
Aphrodite or Yenus, although lowered by Praxiteles to
the rank of a courtesan, represents in Pindar what is
most delicate and noble in woman. The Venus of Milo
suffices in itself to . prove that the goddess of beauty

HELLENIC HUMANIS^L 95

personified something higher than a hfe of pleasure and
voluptuousness. Pride and chastity are stamped on her
features. She represents youth and grace far more
than sensual love. But v^e can already foresee that
the voluptuous Aphrodite vnll soon outstrip the ideal
Venus, and that the ancient Oriental Astarte will event-
ually efiace the Hellenic goddess.

The purifying process becomes most manifest at this
period in the special veneration paid to two divinities
which, anterior to it, possessed no importance. Apollo
and BaccliLis are placed immediately after Jupiter and
Pallas. The former, adored at Delphi, and at first the
god of light, now becomes the god of purity, and claiming
from man holy ablutions and sacrifices. He himself,
according to the myths of the country, had to undergo
purification for having shed the blood of the serpent
Python. Accordingly, it was at Delphi that the puri-
fying rites were performed which cleansed from blood
shed by violence. A whole system of purification was
elaborated by the priests, and gave a more serious
character to a religion which was essentially aesthetic.
Apollo was regarded as the mediating god between
heaven and earth : by his oracles he reveals the will of
the gods, and reconciles man by sacrifice to Jupiter.^

We know the perils that attended the infancy of
Bacchus, son of Jupiter and Semele, who was pursued
by the jealousy of Juno ; also his victorious progress
into India, and his return to Thrace. ' Bacchus,' says
M. Maury truly, ' is the last of the gods of ancient
Greece. In the legend, he preserves both the character
of the hero and that of the god, — that is to say, man
deified and superior to man. He constitutes the link
that binds the old Olympian gods of Homer to the
modern gods — heroes that take their place beside them,
and who at times usurped their attributes. Hercules

^ Dunker iii. 542.

9 G PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

is in many respects a god like Bacchus; but being more
closely connected with earth, his deification was a more
definite apotheosis. With him the Greek more boldly
scaled Olympus, and claimed his share of divinity with-
out passing through the idealization of a Jupiter or an
Apollo. Hercules became the saviour-god, the future
conqueror of Jupiter. Nothing could be more logical :
the real gods were the heroes ; they were destined to
supplant the ancient personifications of the forces of
Nature. At this period the Hellenic mythology is en-
cumbered with heroes and demigods claiming worship.
The fundamental religious idea of Greece becomes more
and more clear. Whilst the East calls on the divinity
to descend from heaven and unite himself with man in
order to absorb him, Greece invites the ideal man, or
the Greek hero, to rise from earth to heaven and replace
the ancient gods, by manifesting not only aesthetic or
intellectual beauty, but moral beauty. This religion
could not satisfy even him whom it deified. It had
both too much grandeur and poverty to last long. The
noble instincts of the soul were at the same time
kindled and crushed by it. It was doomed to perish
by this irremediable contradiction.

The Mysteries were a proof of the insufficiency of the
official religion. We have already said that the most
important of the Mysteries were connected with the
ancient divinities of earth. Those relating to the ad-
ventures of Bacchus embodied a kind of metaphysical
doctrine. According to an Athenian legend, Bacchus
was torn to pieces by the Titans, and then miraculously
saved by Jupiter. The mutilation of the young god
symbolized the subdivisions of being at the creation, as
his resurrection was the emblem of universal renovation,
or the restoration to unity of all individual existence.
The love Mysteries, interpreted in hymns called Orphi-
sies, also inculcated the doctrine of individual restoration

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 97

to unity by means of love, causing all discord to cease.
The myth relating to Psyche was elaborated in this
sense. But these Mysteries, which were rather philo-
sophic than religious, had neither the importance nor
the popularity of those of Eleusis, which were intended
to remove fear inspired by the idea of death, and to
give peace to the troubled conscience.^

The testimony of ancient writers is positive on this
point. These Mysteries, says Isocrates in his panegyric,
secure to those admitted to them the most blissful
hopes, not only for the duration of this life, but for ever.
Cicero says of them, We have not only received the
means of living joyfully, but of dying with better hopes.
If these Mysteries were connected with Ceres and
Proserpine, it was for reasons made accessible to us
through the famous Homeric hymn to Demeter, con-
taining the sacred legend that was dramatically repre-
sented at Eleusis. Ceres, disguised as an old woman,
seeks her daughter Proserpine, who had been carried
off by Pluto. She arrives, overwhelmed with fatigue,
at Eleusis ; and there received by the daughter of King
Celeus, she devotes herself to the education of his son
Triptolemus. In order to confer immortality on him,
she throws him into the fire, on which his mother ut-
tering a cry, the charm is broken, and Triptolemus,
instead of being a god, becomes the heroic benefactor of
his country. Such was the declaration of the goddess,
who suddenly revealed herself, and to whom a temple
was dedicated at Eleusis. Furious at not finding her
daughter, she strikes the earth with sterility, and, in spite
of the supplications of Jupiter and all the gods of Olym-
pus, only consents to be appeased when Pluto promises
to restore her daughter for nine months of the year.

^ See for details the Mémoires sur les Mysûres de Ceres et de Proserpine^
by M. Guigniaut, Member of the Institute, 185G ; also the chapter on the
Mysteries in M. Maury's 2d vol.

G

98 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

The Mysteries of Eleusis began by a series of purifi-
cations, designated as the Lesser Mysteries, to distin-
guish them from the Great Mysteries, and were a kind
of dramatic representation of the legend of Ceres, which
took place in autumn and spring. The first referred to
the painful search of Ceres in quest of her daughter ;
the second represented the happy moment when her
daughter was restored. The supreme initiation was the
last and most solemn act of this religious drama. The
initiated saw in the midst of darkness the image of
the goddess suddenly appear in bright light, accom-
panied by the gods, who were represented by the
priests. To penetrate the sense of these Mysteries, we
must recollect that Ceres and Proserpine were two of
the ancient divinities of earth. The first represented the
earth, the second the grain of wheat. As the seed remains
shut up within the earth during the winter, in order
to germinate and reappear in spring, so Proserpine goes
down three months into the realms of darkness. The
Mysteries of Eleusis were, then, first of all agricultural
fêtes ; but their complex symbolism did not stop there.
Greece could not, even when returning to her old gods,
rest satisfied with seeing in them merely the personifi-
cation of the forces of Nature. Proserpine, reigning in
hell, was the tutelar divinity of those who after her
should descend there. Her reappearance to the light
of day was prophetic of immortality. Man, like the
grain, must die, in order that he may again rise to life.
Finally, the peregrinations of Ceres symbolize the wan-
derings of the soul which has lost the right path, but
which, after much labour, finds it again.

Two dogmas we then find contained in these obscure
symbols, — namely, that of evil or sin, and immortality.
The purifications were intended to operate the desired
salvation. The great goddesses alone could restore
souls to their pristine purity. Thus, while the national

HELLENIC HUMANISM. 99

religion was supposed to have broken the yoke of the
religions of Nature, the Mysteries in turn, while pro-
claiming its powerlessness, endeavoured to express the
deep aspirations of the soul, which, charmed and dazzled
by the splendour of the ceremonies, still found its real
wants unsatisfied.

However, those momentary stings of conscience did
not suffice to cast a lasting shadow over the serene sky
of Greece. Surrounded with the masterpieces of art,
with poets such as Sophocles and ^schylus, with tem-
ples like those of Jupiter Olympus and the Parthenon,
Greece may for a moment have believed that she had
rid the world of the malediction which the gloomy
mythologies of the East had drawn upon it. Ever}^
four years the celebration of the Olympic games drew
together, on a plain bordered with olive trees and plan-
tains, the flower of Grecian youth. There their courage
derived fresh stimulus, their supple bodies acquired
strength, and displayed all the beauty of form. Ex-
traordinary importance was attached to these games,
which were regarded as the school of heroism. They
bore a sacred character in the eyes of Greece, ever
ready to worship heroes and human beauty of every
kind. In the interval between the great Olympic
games, each city exercised the élite of its population in
the gymnasium. Hellenic life was essentially public
life ; women alone passed their lives in private, shut up
in the gynasceum.

Man lived solely for the State ; the individual being
absorbed in the collective but not abstract being which
daily met at the Agora, — noisy, agitated, and sovereign
even in its caprices. What a contrast between ascetic
India, solely bent on destroying the natural and human
element, and Greece, accepting it in all its phases in
order to ennoble it ! Greece conceived no ideal beyond
Nature : there she sought it, or rather, there she placed

100 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

it; thus combining the real and the ideal, preventing the
former from becoming gross and vulgar, and the second
from becoming lost in vagueness. Nature embellished
— this was the Hellenic ideal. Hence that plastic per-
fection, with its marvellous harmony, which has be-
come the true classic ideal ; but hence also its incom-
pleteness and insufficiency. The day humanity feels its
want of something more than being embellished and
ennobled, that day it feels its need of being saved and
restored from the consequences of its fall. It is then
true, that what constituted the glory of Greece, also
led to its ruin. A rapid glance at its philosophic de-
velopment will confirm this position.

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER.

A people's philosophy is the highest and truest expres-
sion of their development. Philosophers, falling back
upon their own minds, disengage from all impediments
the fundamental idea which rules a nation's destiny.
In this way the Brahmans of India, in their refined
speculations, boldly pursued to their consequences the
premises contained in the national creed, and concluded
by reducing to a definite formula the doctrine of anni-
hilation. Greek philosophy fulfilled a similar mission,
and gave an exact formula to the essential principles of
Hellenic Paganism.

It would be difficult to overstate the importance of
Greek philosophy, when viewed as a preparative to
Christianity. Disinterested pursuit of truth is always
a great and noble task. The imperishable want of
the human mind to go back to its first principle, suf-
fices in itself to prove that this principle is divine. We
may abuse speculation ; we may turn it into one of the
most powerful dissolvents of moral truths ; and the de-
fenders of positive creeds, alarmed by the attitude too
often assumed by speculation in the presence of religion,

GREEK PHILOSOPHY ÏO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 101

liave condemned it as mischievous in itself, confounding
in their unjust prejudice its use and its abuse. But,
for all serious thinkers, philosophy is one of the highest
titles of nobility that humanity possesses ; and, when we
consider its mission previous to Christianity, we feel con-
vinced that it had its place in the divine plan. It was not
religion in itself that philosophy, through its noblest re-
presentatives, combated, but polytheism. It dethroned
the false gods. Adopting what was best in Paganism,
philosophy employed it as an instrument to destroy Pa-
ganism, and thus cleared the way for definitive religion.
Above all, it effectively contributed to purify the idea
of divinity, though this purification was but an approxi-
mation. If at times it caught glimpses of the highest
spiritualism, yet it was unable to guard against the re-
turn and reaction of Oriental dualism. In spite of this
imperfection, which in its way served the cause of
Christianity by demonstrating the necessity of revela-
tion, men like Socrates and Plato fulfilled amongst
their people a really sublime mission. They were to
the pagan world the great prophets of the human con-
science, which woke up at their call. And the awaken-
ing of the moral sense was at once the glory and ruin
of their philosophy ; for conscience, once roused, could
only be satisfied by One greater than they, and must
necessarily reject all systems which proved themselves
impotent to realize the moral ideal which they had
evoked.

But to perish thus, and for such a cause, is a high
honour to a philosophy. It was this made the philoso-*
phy of Greece, like the Hebrew laws, though in an
inferior sense, a schoolmaster that led to Jesus Christ,
according to the expression of Clement of Alexandria.
Viewed in this light, it was a true gift from God; and
had, too, the shadow of good things to come, awaking
the presentiment and desire of them, though it could

102 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

not communicate them. Nor can we conceive a better
way to prepare the advent of Him who was to be the
Desire of nations before being their Saviour.

Rigid consistency binds together the different systems
of philosophy. Logic reigns sovereign in the domain
of pure speculation, and is at once the cause of its
grandeur and of its insufficiency. A doctrine dies out
owing to what is false or incomplete in it ; and the in-
coming doctrine is its natural refutation, by either
drawing ultimate consequences from the premises laid
down, or by substituting a new principle for an erro-
neous one. The great problem ancient philosophy had
to deal with, was how to get rid of the opposition be-
tween mind and matter ; it being the eternal mission of
speculation to restore unity to the conceptions of the
human mind. This great problem was also the great
stumblingblock of Greek philosophy, and one it never
succeeded in solving. To do so, a higher light was ne-
cessary. As long as the dogma of creation was not
accepted, but three solutions were possible : either the
two terms of the problem were to be eternally laid
down in the presence of each other, affirming the most
decided dualism; or one of the terms was suppressed,
leading to materialism or to idealism; or refuge was
sought in the theory of emanation.

If all systems split on the same rock, they did not
all split in the same way ; and some amongst them,
though erring in one capital point, yet mixed such an
amount of truth with their error, that they exercised a
most beneficial influence. Mainly preoccupied with the
moral action of the different doctrines upon mind —
convinced that this action does not always absolutely
depend on the metaphysical point of view — we shall
carefully abstain from pronouncing a summary judg-
ment upon the whole philosophy of Greece, but point
out the purer current discernible through these troubled

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 103

waters, and which acquired such power and limpidity
in the Platonic philosophy. It is this system that evi-
dently has most affinity with Christianity, and which
was most efficient in preparing hearts for its reception,
— such hearts as did not find in it full satisfaction.
Accordingly, we shall always bear it in view in the
summary we now proceed to give of the philosophic
development of Greece.

We shall find under a new form, in the successive
philosophical systems, the succession of the different
mythological creations of humanity. Nor should this
surprise us, since there is nothing arbitrary or acci-
dental in the order of the religions of the ancient world.
They are connected with each other by a hidden but
irresistible logic. Humanity was not compelled to take
this path; but, the first steps once taken, necessarily pur-
sued it to the end. Naturism^ or the glorification of the
forces of Nature, fatally led to a more and more decided
dualism, as dualism led to Brahminical pantheism and
Buddhist annihilation. Such were the inevitable phases
of religious thought, till it attained the higher sphere of
humanism. Philosophic thought passed through the
same series of ideas ; but, as reflection never precedes
but follows imagination, philosophic development did
not keep pace with mythological development. Ac-
cordingly, we find that the periods of Greek philosophy
do not coincide with those of its religious history.
Naturism was banished from the religious sphere while
still dominant in speculation ; and it was long after it
had triinnphed in the temple that humanism was taught
as a formula in the schools.

Speculative thought, once excited, follows the course
of religious thought, and seeks in Nature the first prin-
ciple of all things. Overpowered, since his fall, by
Nature, man began by proclaiming his own defeat ; but
to proclaim it, and to endeavour to account for it, is

/

104 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

already in a degree to repair it. The thinking reed, to
use Pascal's term, rises in presence of the blind forces
of Nature which bowed it to the earth. The philosophy
of Naturism is already an enfranchisement, in being
a philosophy. The most ancient of the Greek schools
of philosophy, the Ionian school, succeeded, towards its
decline, in attaining glimpses of spiritualism. It was
divided into two branches — the Dynamic and the
Mechanic branches. The first held that there was an
inherent force in Nature presiding over its develop-
ments ; the other attributed the order and government
of the world to a principle outside and above it.

It is evident that that branch of the Ionian school
which sought in Nature itself the germ of life and the
principle of organization, was nearer to absolute mate-
rialism than that which sought this germ and principle
out of Nature. Thaïes of Miletus supposed water to be
the first principle of things. Anaximenes maintained
that air was the primal essence ; while Heraclitus at-
tributed the origin of all things to fire. These philoso-
phers represent, in philosophy, the gross Naturism that
predominated in Asia Minor. If Diogenes of ApoUonia
attributes divine intelligence to air, we must regard it
but as a noble inconsistency, which leaves undisturbed
the materialistic character of the Ionian school.

The Mechanism tendency, which, as we have said,
admitted a principle of organization outside and above
Nature, approached, without attaining, spiritualism.
Anaximander of Miletus supposed the great primary
essence to be the Infinite^ whence existences became
disengaged by the separation of antagonisms. Anaxa-
goras taught that a supreme intelligence presided over
the creation. ' All things were confounded together,
and mind reduced them to order.'

This was but the crude beginning of spiritualism, still
tending to dualism ; for if intelligence orders the con-

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 105

fused world of matter, what then is the origin of matter?
What were those chaotic elements organized by the
great Intelligence ? Anaxagoras does not answer this
question. Hence we are not surprised to find the
Pythagorean school, which succeeded the Ionian rather
in the order of logic than of time, accept dualism and
rigorously formalize it. The famous theory of numbers
evidently bears the dualistic character. Unity, whence
all flows, comprehends the material principle, which is
the unlimited, the indefinite, and the spiritual principle,
which is again the element of limitation and determina-
tion. The number, which is at once the essence and
type of all beings, results from the reciprocal penetration
of these two elements: it is neither simply the unlimited,
nor the determining element, but determination in the
unlimited — in other words, confused matter receiving
form, precision, and harmony from the spiritual ele-
ment. The laws of symmetry are strictly observed in
this penetration of matter by intelligence. Mathema-
tical relations express the union of mind and matter.
Contained at first without distinction in the great
whole, the limited and the unlimited, mind and matter
became disengaged in order to unite and form an har-
monious world, of which heaven is the most perfect re-
presentation. The Pythagorean school was a school of
mathematicians and astronomers. To us it appears to
correspond, with sufiicient exactness, with the mytho-
logical evolution accomplished in Iran in the time of
Zoroaster. Accordingly, whilst the Ionian school, in
this respect like the religion of Phoenicia, only admitted
one blind, confused principle, uniting in itself the con-
trary forces of Nature, the Pythagorean doctrine, like
the Avesta, recognised two principles, opposed one to
the other, but requiring the material principle to be
subordinated to the spiritual ; and, like the Persian re-
ligion, tending to moral development by commanding

106 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANIS.M.

that man should always strive to make right and har-
mony predominate; but also, like Parseeism, it remained
bound in the trammels of dualism. ' Unity,' says the
Pythagorean school, 'results from duality.'^ Dualism
leads to annihilation. The human mind cannot long
preserve the equilibrium between the material and
spiritual principle, but endeavours to get rid of one of
the terms of the great antithesis. As soon as the sen-
timent of unity is revealed, all is sacrificed to it. Di-
versity, movement, individual life, all appears an evil;
and all that has an existence separate from the great
whole must be annihilated, and lost in the abyss of the
one absolute being. This tendency was called Brah-
manism in the mythological evolution of the East ; in
the philosophical evolution of Greece it produced the
school of Elea. We know with what courage Xeno-
phanes and Parmenides taught the doctrine of idealism.
' The divinity,' says Parmenides, 'has neither beginning
nor end. He is without parts; for he is always one and
identical.' He is without movement, adds Melissus, for
the great being is unalterable; and what is unalterable
neither diminishes nor augments. There is no plurality;
for there is only one true being which is unalterable.
It is impossible not to recognise Brahmanism in this
doctrine; but as it was the product of Greece, and not
of the banks of the Ganges, it received a deeper stamp
of idealism.

The one immutable being, according to Parmenides,
is endowed with reason and intelligence. ' He is a holy,
ineffable spirit : the plenitude of being is in thought.'
High as they exalted him, still they failed to range the
external world under his law, and were compelled, in
order to vindicate their doctrine, to deny all contingent
existence. The production of individual existences, and
of the world containing them, was to their eyes, as to

1 To I' su il d[/,(portpau. Aristot. Metapliys. A. 5.

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEX.\NDER. 107

the Brahmaiis', a malediction. They pronounced the
same anathema on Nature as was passed in India.
According to Empedocles (ranked erroneously by
Brandis amongst the Ionian philosophers), the world
was created under the influence of the principle of
hatred, which broke the bond of love that in the be-
ginning bound together all beings in the bosom of the
one absolute being. Hence the incurable sadness that
casts its sombre hue over all that is born, lives, and
moves. Empedocles poetically expressed this feeling
when, powerless to triumph over this dualism, which
ever presented itself in spite of the daring negations of
the school of Elea, he cries out : ' I am an exile from
truth, obeying furious discord ; 0 wretched race of
mortals, of what discords and sighs are you not born ! '
Buddhist asceticism is tacitly conveyed in this lamen-
tation; and if it did not practically flow from it, it
was that the serene Hellenic temperament effectively
counterbalanced this sombre Oriental spirit.

The extreme idealism of the Elean school led to a
violent reaction, of which Democritus was the organ.
Parmenides had denied movement and plurality. De-
mocritus replied by denying the supernatural world —
the world of intelligence and unity. He explains the
formation of things by the doctrine of atoms, drawn in
an eternal vortex, and blending and separating at the
sport of chance. He seeks no first principle, no god,
no morality. To the idealistic excesses of the school
of Elea he opposes an equally absolute materialism.
Tossed from one to the other of these two exaggerated
tendencies, convinced by each in turn of the errors of
the antagonistic school, the Greek mind, whose in-
herent subtlety already disposed it towards scepticism,
abandoned itself unreservedly thereto towards the
close of this period. It was then the Sophists sprang
up, making a sport of philosophy, and a traf&c of the

108 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

noblest preoccupations of the human mind, which in
their hands became a profession without higher aims
than the gratification of vanity or self-interest. Bringing
into collision all the contradictory solutions proposed by
the different schools upon the ontological problem, re-
futing Parmenides by Democritus, and Democritus by
Parmenides, they concluded from all these discussions
that it is impossible for man to arrive at truth — rather,
that there is no fixed absolute truth — that upon every
question two equally plausible answers are possible, and
that man's own fluctuating thought is the measure of
all things — such was the doctrine of Protagoras and
Gorgias ; and they sought to establish it by a subtle,
sapping dialectic destruction of all rational and moral
evidence. The Sophists, who were at the same time
great rhetoricians, inaugurated the reign of false ele-
gance. As in their eyes all was but appearance, they
solely aimed at effect, pomp and harmony of language.
They delighted, as Cicero tells us, to plead the opposite
sides of a cause with equal force. We can conceive
the fatal influence this must have exercised upon the
young, whose moral sense became falsified or destroyed
by such a process. Nor did they less effectually de-
stroy the religious sense ; for the Sophists were noted
for their atheism and impiety. They thus undermined
the very foundations of the State, and inspired with a
legitimate inquietude the minds, not only of religious
men, but of such as were preoccupied about the wel-
fare of the republic. Thus, through their fault, phi-
losophy long fell into discredit, and he who rehabilitated
it, died victim of the unpopularity which its deadly
enemies had stirred up. His life and death were
needed to restore it in the estimation of Greece. No
mission could have been nobler ; and this was the mis-
sion of Socrates. For our part, we do not hesitate to
say that he was a great servant of the God whom he

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 109

had but glimpses of, and whose will he accomplished in
the measure of the light and strength given him. He
was faithful ' over the few things entrusted to him ;'
that is to say, he was faithful to the full measure of
truth he possessed. What is remarkable in Socrates
is not the system, but the man. The memory he left
behind him amongst his disciples, although idealized,
the affection blended with reverence which they never
ceased to feel for his person, bear sufficient testimony
to the elevation of his character and to his moral
purity. We recognise in him a Greek of Athens — one
who had imbibed many dangerous errors, and on
whom the yoke of pagan customs still weighed ; but
his life was nevertheless a noble life ; and it is to
calumny we must have recourse if we are to tarnish its
beaLity by odious insinuations, as Lucian did, and as
has been too frequently done, after him, by unskilful
defenders of Christianity, who imagine that it is the
gainer by all that degrades human nature. Born in an
humble position, destitute of all those external advan-
tages which the Greeks so passionately loved, Socrates
exercised a true kingship over minds. His dominion
was the more real for being less apparent. No man
more utterly rejected all vulgar artifices for producing
effect upon men : no mere parade of dignity, no magi-
sterial pomp of words, but out of the free interchange
of familiar talk he allowed his lessons of morality and
philosophy to flow ; his speech affected not the accent
of authority, but took the easy tone of conversation, sea-
soned with fine irony, the capricious course of which it
sufficed him to direct in order to gain his end. He in-
stituted no school. All hours and all places were good
where instruction could be imparted : the market-
place, the shop, the banquet-hall, the interior of a
prison. His power consisted of three things, — ^his de-
voted affection for his disciples, his disinterested love of

1 1 0 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

truth, and the perfect harmony of his hfe and doctrine.
' He was surprised,' says Xenophon, ' that men could
dare to earn their Hving by teaching virtue, as if the
greatest gain were not the possession of a virtuous
friend. He would have feared by so doing to diminish
the gratitude he wished to inspire.' Comparing truth
to a young virgin he adored, he would consider himself
as much dishonoured by selling truth, as if for a sum
of money he should sell a young girl entrusted to him.
When he spoke of loving, he did not refer to the exter-
nal person, but always to the soul and virtue. He
placed friendship above all the blessings of earth.
What blessing is there that is not second to a true
friend ! It is easy to understand how he, who ranked
friendship so highly, should have inspired his disciples
with such warm and profound affection ; and their
esteem was equal to their affection, for what he taught
he scrupulously practised. If he recommended temper-
ance and sobriety, he also set the example : poorly clad,
satisfied with little, he disdained all the delicacies of life.
He possessed every species of courage. On the field of
battle he was intrepid ; and still more intrepid when he
resisted the caprices of the multitude who demanded
him, when he was senator, to commit the injustice of
summoning ten generals before the tribunals. He also
infringed the iniquitous orders of the thirty tyrants of
Athens.

The satires of Aristophanes neither moved nor irri-
tated him. The same dauntless firmness he displayed
when brought before his judges charged with impiety.
' If it is your wish to absolve me on condition that I
shall henceforth be silent, I reply, I love and honour
you, but I ought rather to obey the gods than you.
Neither in the presence of judges nor of the enemy is it
permitted me, or any man, to use every sort of means
to escape death. It is not death but crime that is difh-

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. Ill

cult to avoid ; crime moves faster than death. So I, old
and heavy as I am, have allowed myself to be overtaken
by death, while my accusers, light and vigorous, have
allowed themselves to be overtaken by the more light-
footed crime. I go then to suffer death ; they to suffer
shame and iniquity. I abide by my punishment, as
they by theirs. All is according to order.' It was the
same fidelity to duty that made Socrates refuse to escape
from prison, in order not to violate the laws of his
cormtry, to which, even though irritated, more respect
is due than to a father. ' Let us walk in the path,' he
says, ' that God has traced for us.' These last words
show the profoLind religious sentiment which animated
Socrates, — that faith in the divinity which made him
say it was a god that had given him to the Athenians,
and that a god or goddess guarded him in all things.
Superstition here mingled with truth, biit did not stifle
it. It is impossible not to feel that there was some-
thing divine in such a life, crowned by such a death.

As regards his teaching, it is difficult to disengage it
from the commentaries of his disciples. Still, by com-
paring Xenophon with Plato, and judiciously availing
ourselves of their testimony, we can seize some of its
general features. When Cicero declares, in an often
quoted passage, that Socrates drew philosophy down
from heaven to earth, he perfectly characterizes his
work ; for Socrates was the first to lead philosophy from
the path of hypothetical speculations on the world and
its origin to that of psychological observation. He not
only made it descend from the mythic heaven of the
Pythagoreans, and the vast solitude of the Eleans,
where the Being immutable and alone was as it were
lost, — he made philosophy enter into man, gave her his
mind and conscience to study, — he made human nature
the principal field of his explorations, and substituted
the philosophy of humanity for that of Nature ; thus

112 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

accomplishing in the domain of speculation the evolu-
tion already realized in that of mythology.

Socrates was the first philosopher who reduced to
clear formula the fundamental data of Hellenism, elimi-
nating at the same time the impure elements which
alloyed it in the popular religion. He was in philo-
sophy what Pindar and Sophocles were in poetry, and
Phidias in art ; like them, he purified the Greek ideal,
and humanism, in passing through his hands, received
the impress of high spirituality. He raised it far above
the idle fables of mythology. Already the Elean school
had rejected the gross anthropomorphism of the Homeric
religion. ' God,' Empedocles had said, ' has not a
human head nor limbs like ours ; arms do not descend
from his shoulders, nor has he feet to run with.' But
this school had gone into the other extreme, by con-
demning the absolute being to eternal immobility, by
representing him as an impassible intelligence holding
no relations with humanity. Socrates was equally
removed from both these errors. His god, though not
the Jupiter of fable, subject to all our passions, is a
god in close relations to man — his protector and model.
Socratic humanism is no presumptuous apotheosis of
humanity ; if he proclaims it divine, it is in the name of
the superior element it possesses. Hence the science
of sciences that it imports man to acquire, is self-know-
ledge— introspection. In gaining deeper insight into
his own nature, he learns the inutility of the vain, false
science of the external world, and finds out his ignor-
ance of the subject most essential for him to know.
Hence the principle of all sound philosophy is embodied
in the inscription on the temple of Delphi, ' Know
thyself In knowing himself, man knows also the true
good ; for it is revealed in these eternal and unwritten
laws of which Socrates, as well as Sophocles, speaks
with reverential eloquence. Good is inseparable from

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 113

truth — truth and good are one and the same. Science
and virtue are intimately joined, inasmuch as the
first object of science being the good, and the good
being inaccessible to an impure heart. Socrates draws
no distinction between the idea of the good and
the idea of the divinity, nor does he admit a sepa-
ration between morality and religion. The august
type of good should be sought amongst the gods, who
not only reveal it to us and counsel us to it, but who
aid us to accomplish it. Once on this path, we can
understand how Socrates was led to the notion of the
immortality of the soul. If he did not go so far as to
affirm it, the hindrance arose from his mode of dia-
lectics, and not from any tergiversation of his con-
science. It was because he believed in the divine
element in man that he employed the famous inductive
method, which consisted in eliciting from the conscience,
by a system of skilful interrogations, what was there
hidden and inherent. He has been unjustly accused of
having founded eudemonism, or the selfish morality of
happiness. If Socrates loved to enumerate the happy
results to man of temperance, simplicity of manners,
and virtue in general, we can only regard it as the
legitimate condescension of a philosopher making him-
self all things to all men, and endeavouring to render
virtue attractive to his hearers without making the hap-
piness it procures the chief motive of morality. We
would equally deceive ourselves were we to suppose
that Socrates, in dwelling on the practical side of phi-
losophy, condemned real science. It was that frivolous
curiosity he condemned which seeks its aliment in the
spectacle of the universe, while neglecting the human
soul and the treasures it contains. But the best proof
that Socrates did not proscribe real metaphysics, is the
fact that he had Plato and Aristotle as disciples. It is
true he left no complete system after him, but this was

H

114 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

not his mission. His greatness consisted in what he
inspired rather than in what he himself taught, although
we do find in his fragmentary teaching the solid found-
ations on which Platonism was built, and that moral
character which enables us to mount from the divine in
man to the absolute and eternal. Socrates breathed
new life into conscience and thought ; and if the moral
impulse imparted by him was more energetic than the
intellectual, it was because the time, in which the influ-
ence of the Sophists was in the ascendant, most needed
it. Besides, it was his profound insight into the true
and good that constituted the originality and power of
this noble philosopher, who more than any other la-
boured to destroy polytheism. From the point of view
of ancient Greece, Socrates accordingly deserved death.

For the same reason, Christianity, instead of gather-
ing up the calumnies and outrages of a Lucian, should
accept Socrates as one of its precursors. Socrates was,
no doubt, incapable of filling the place of Christianity ;
but it was his vocation to make the world feel the ne-
cessity of Christianity, by developing wants and aspira-
tions which the Hellenic religion could not satisfy. He
represented in Greece the moral law — that law which
Saint Paul declared was written on the heart of the
heathen, and which filled a part analogous to that of
the Mosaic law. Notwithstanding the inferiority of
philosophy compared with revelation, all that Socrates
did and said to establish the obligations of conscience,
had the same pedagogic results in relation to his people
as flowed from the positive institutions of the Jews. The
' Know thyself,' taken seriously, must end in the invo-
cation to the Unkno\vn God, which is none other than
the Christ.

The minor schools that sprung from Socratism, such
as the Cyrenaic and C3m.ic, we shall not dwell on, for
they neither comprehended nor developed their master's

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 115

doctrines. The first was an anticipation of Epicurean-
ism ; the second, a foretaste of Stoicism, without its
grandeur or influence. We shall proceed at once to
that noble Platonic philosophy which has at all times
exercised so powerful an action upon all elevated minds,
and which, with the exception of Christianity, may be
regarded as the greatest event in the history of thought.
It has even been maintained that it superseded the ne-
cessity of a revelation, by giving to humanity, in the
form of speculation, that pure morality which the Gos-
pel, at a later period, promulgated ; but to refute this
assertion, it is only necessary to state Plato's system,
the merits of which it is needless to exaggerate, in order
to do justice to this glorious school of spiritualism in
antiquity, as great by virtue of what it destroyed, as
for the sublime ideas it ushered into the world.

Born towards the close of the age of Pericles, con-
nected by kindred or friendship with all the most illus-
trious men of the republic, Plato began life by culti-
vating that poetry which he afterwards would have
proscribed from his Bejmblic, but of which he never
succeeded in divesting his own mind ; for, if we admit
that poetry exists independent of rhythmical syl-
lables, Plato was then one of the finest poets of
Greece. From the moment he became the disciple of
Socrates, he consecrated himself to philosophy. His
vast studies and travels (which a judicious criticism
must reduce to reasonable limits^) put him in possession
of all the treasures that science and religion had hitherto
accumulated. In the most beautiful of all languages
he possessed the most pliant instrument of the intel-
lect. Uniting, as M. Cousin says, the sublime and grace-
ful ; by turns ingenious and brilliant ; endowed with a
creative, plastic imagination, which enabled him to
invest his thoughts in transparent forms ; as inspired

^ See Ritter, Histoire de la Philosophie Ancienne^ t. ii., p. 129.

116 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

an artist as he was a profound metaphysician, — Plato
left in his Dialogues one of those perfect works, such as
humanity produces but at rare epochs. When he says
in his Republic that one of the most rapturous spectacles
would be that of a soul and body equally beautiful, ' in
unison with one another, in which all qualities should
be in complete harmony,' he unconsciously defined his
own style ; for Plato's thought found in his style a form
equal in beauty to itself

Like Socrates, Plato loved truth with fervour. ' If
anything,' we read in the Banquet^ ^ gives value to
human life, it is the contemplation of absolute beauty.
What would be thought of the mortal to whom it was
given to contemplate beauty, pure, simple, and un-
mixed, divested of all human alloy, and all other
perishable accessories — divine, homogeneous, absolute
beauty ? Would we not believe that this man, who
here below perceived beauty by the organ to which
beauty is perceptible, could alone conceive true virtue,
since it is to virtue that beauty belongs ? Now to
him who gives birth to and nourishes virtue it belongs
to be beloved by God ; and if any should be immortal,
he, above all, should. To attain this great good, human
nature will find no more powerful auxiliary than love.'
^ He, who in the mysteries of love has risen to this
point, after having traversed according to order all the
degrees of the beautiful, reaches the final initiation,
and suddenly perceives this marvellous, sacred, im-
perishable beauty.' Plato gives us the highest and most
austere idea of this love of truth and beauty, when he
declares that he who possesses it should rise completely
above corporeal life, and never forget that what is pure
only belongs to the pure. The true philosopher is he
who loves to contemplate truth for its own sake. 'He,'
he says, ' who makes the contemplation of truth his sole
study, has no time to bend his thoughts down to the

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 117

conduct of men in order to censure it, and to fill his
mind with bitterness ; but, having his mind ever fixed
on objects which observe amongst themselves a con-
stant and immutable order, he applies himself to
imitate this order. Is it possible to admire the beauty
of an object, to love to draw nearer and nearer to it
without endeavouring to resemble it ? ' We shall now
seek out the grand lines of a system of which we
already know the generous inspiration.

Plato begins by defining science — true science, that
which is worthy of the name. It is to be distinguished
not only from ignorance, but from opinion, which is
a premature conclusion of the mind, based, not on
thorough examination, but on our transient fugitive
impressions. In opinion there is nothing certain or
absokite. If it escapes the shallowness of ignorance, yet
it knows not real being ; but is, to speak the language
of Plato, a compound of being and non-being. Science,
on the contrary, rises above what is accidental and con-
ditional, and attaches itself to the pure, immutable, and
eternal being. ^ It fixes its eyes on objects enlightened
by truth and being — it sees them clearly ; but when
man turns his eyes on what is mixed with darkness,
on what is born and dies, his vision becomes disturbed
and obscured : he has then only opinions.' Under its
higher form, science takes the name of logic, which is
distinguished from physics, morals, and politics, in that
it seeks, not the different manifestations of being, but
being itself, and only stops when it has attained the
absolute, beyond all contingence. Science, thus under-
stood, intrenches upon morals ; for pure being in itself
is inseparable from pure good in itself. To know it, is
to know the good. What is pure, being only for the
pure, can alone be penetrated by loving and practising
purity. Science in this high sense is virtue : ignorance
brings evil. Sin is another name for error. Plato

118 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

in this point is the faithful disciple of Socrates. In
order to define real being, he had to guard against
a twofold exaggeration : that of Xenophanes and Zeno,
who denied movement and change ; and that of Demo-
critus, who denied unity and the absolute. Plato first
of all endeavoured to establish that we must admit
unity as well as plurality and movement, and move-
ment as well as unity ; and in this way reconciled the
contradictions which had made the fortune of the
Sophists. One is amazed, in reading the Parmenides
and the Théétites, at the ingenuity of his arguments,
which frequently turn upon subtle grammatical analyses.
Plato shows that human language implies both unity
and plurality; that isolated words have no meaning,
and only become intelligible to the mind when joined
to each other. The phrase thus contains multiplicity
and unity.

The laws of knowledge lead to the same result. In
all knowledge there is duality : a subject and an object ;
he who knows, and that which is known. We thus get
rid of the abstract and absolute unity of the Elean
school without falling into atomism. This subtle logic,
besides being perfectly appropriated to the adversaries
Plato had to combat, concealed a profound view that
pervades the whole system of his philosophy. Adher-
ing to the grand movement of Hellenic humanism, he
admits, like his master, that man was made in the
image of the divinity. His reason is divine. Conse-
quently the laws of his reason, manifested by the laws
of language, are those of being in general. Grammar,
from this point of view, has an important bearing ; and
we are no longer astonished at the revelations evolved
from it, which at first appear puerile. Thus, in presence
of absolute being, we find a contingent being, multiform
and endowed with movement. This is not the contrary
of being, because it has an existence of its own ; but

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 119

neither is it the being 2^^^ excellence. It occupies an
intermediate position — it is the eternal other, always
mingled with the absolute being. It is the element of
change, of plurality, of contingence, or, to give it its
true name, it is matter ; not the gross matter palpable
to the touch, but a subtle matter everywhere diffused
and attached to absolute being. Here we come to
the fundamental error of Platonism, which is that of
Paganism itself Humanism does not succeed in his
hands, no more than in those of any other philosopher
of antiquity, in disengaging itself from the trammels of
dualism.

Evil is inherent to the condition of the finite and
multiform being, because it is inherent in matter.
Eternal, like Being, the Non-Being has no end, as it had
no commencement. This is the primal erroi" of Platon-
ism, whence flows all his errors in physics, in morals,
and in politics : it logically tends to pantheistic annihi-
lation, were it not permeated by the most admirable
moral sentiment. Real Being is then everywhere mixed
with the contingent being ; it constitutes the element
of unity, whilst the contingent being represents diversity
and multiplicity. The element of unity in each thing
is its prototype or idea. There is a world of prototypes
or ideas of all that exists — a higher sphere of being,
to which we have access by means of logic, which helps
us to rise from the contingent to the absolute, from
diversity to unity.

' Ideas,' we read in the Parmenides^ ' subsist as the
models of Nature ; things resemble them and are copies
of them. The participation of things with ideas con-
sists in the resemblance of things with ideas.' The
idea in Platonism performs the same part that the ele-
ment of limitation did in the Pythagorean school ; effec-
tively, it is limit or outline that marks the form of
things and approximates them to an intelligible type.

1 20 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Moreover, those ideas of things are bound together,
forming one harmonious whole ; and are all merged
into one supreme idea, which contains them in itself —
the idea of the Good. It is this that sheds light and
truth on the objects of science, and gives the faculty of
knowing to the soul. ' Its beauty must be unspeakable,
since Good is the source of science and truth, and is
more beautiful than they are. This idea of the Good
may be compared to the sun, which not only renders
visible things visible, but is the cause of their birth,
growth, and nourishment; in effect, intelligible beings
derive from the Good, not only their intelligibility,
but also their existence.' This absolute Good is the
God of Plato. He says of God that He is the source
of all good, and the principle of all ideas. He is the
Spirit that sees in Himself the idea of each being, and
that realizes it in each being.

Plato applies the principles of his logic to physics.
' The world is formed,' we read in the Timeus, ' after
an invisible model, conceived by reason and intelligence.
The Creator did not draw it out of the void ; for, matter
being eternal. He had only to reduce to order the scat-
tered elements ; and, seeing that all visible things were
not in repose, but agitated by a confused, disordered
movement, He drew them from disorder and subjected
them to order, thinking that it was preferable.' Thus
we see Platonism does not admit the creation : its god
only introduced order and harmony into a chaos, eter-
nal as he was eternal ; and which is the non-being, the
element of diversity and divisibility, which the philoso-
pher can no more explain than he can suppress. ' The
supreme God, not being a jealous God, desired that
the world organized by Him should be the best possible.
Nothing is more beautiful than an intelligent being.
He made it, accordingly, a being endowed with soul
and intelligence ; the soul being the bond between

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 121

matter and reason. The universe, taken in its totality,
is a god whose intelHgent soul circulates in an immense
body. It is, to speak in Plato's words, a divine animal,
formed after the perfect idea of the animal, or according
to the animal type and ideal, which inckides in itself as
parts all individual animals, from the highest in the
scale of beings to the lowest ; for perfection always re-
sides in unity. ' Thus the world is an animal visible
and alone, comprehending in itself all animals, which
have a natural relation with it. In order that this
animal should, by its unity, resemble the perfect animal,
its author did not make two worlds ; and produced but
the one heaven, which is and ever shall be alone. He
gave it the form appropriated to it ; and as it was des-
tined to contain all beings, this form was a spheroid.
The nature of the animal in itself being eternal, it was
not possible to confer this attribute on the animal which
had been produced; He therefore created in time a
mutable image of eternity.

From this one divine animal, called the world, God
caused to proceed all the species of animals that in-
telligence sees comprehended in the ideal animal which
is the prototype of creation, in its details as in its
grand features. There are four kinds of animals : the
celestial race of gods, the winged species that fly in air,
that which dwells in the waters, and that which walks
on the earth. Each star is a divine, eternal animal — a
real, though secondary divinity. These brilliant gods,
whose mysterious movements in the heavens our eye
can follow, were charged with the creation of inferior
beings. They constitute the Greek Olympus. The
supreme God furnishes the divine immortal part which
is to be united to the mortal in those beings which,
like man, reproduce, in one side of their nature, the
type of absolute good. Each is in relation with a
particular star, to which he will return, if by virtue he

122 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

makes what is divine in him predominate over the
material ; those, on the contrary, who }deld themselves
up to evil, will, after death, go through a series of
migrations under inferior forms of existence till their
complete purification. The predominance of the divine
element over the inferior element is not possible as
long as the disorderly movements of the body remain
unregulated by reason.

Plato distinguishes his three parts in man : — first,
reason, which proceeds from the supreme God; the
body, which is the material element; and the soul,
which is the intermediate link. The human being is
thus formed in the image of the world, of which he is,
in a manner, a reduced model. By his higher nature,
he approximates to God ; by his inferior nature, he is
bound to incoherent matter, the matrix of all beings.
His reason reflects the divine world of ideas, the world
of beauty, of harmony, and of good. This part of man
is immortal ; but this immortality is nowhere clearly
defined, and it is impossible to say if it be personal.
Besides, a vast interval separates man from God. The
divine nature never being in communication with man,
it is through the intervention of demons, who act as
ministers between heaven and earth, that the divinity
converses and speaks with us, either in our waking or
sleeping state.

Such are the general features of Plato's physics. It
is enough to have pointed them out. We find in them
the grandeur and the imperfection of his dialectics, —
that is to say, a powerful effort to resolve all things
into the unity of the divine thought, yet constantly
bafâed by an invincible dualism. The god of Plato
suffers, through all spheres of life, the torment inflicted
by Mezentius on his victims; he being eternally attached
to matter, which he neither produced nor can destroy.
The idea of the Good, principle of unity, is, as it were,

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 123

riveted to incoherent diversity, which it only partially
subdues. Evil is mixed up in all his most beautiful
creations ; and the more his works are multiplied, the
more evil abounds, — beings form a descending scale :
man has degenerated from the gods, woman is a degene-
ration from man, and so on. Thus we see that Platonic
dualism arrives at Indian emanation, without, however,
reaching its ultimate conclusions, from which it owes
its escape to the development of the moral element.

We have already seen that Plato, while admitting
the necessity of evil, admits man's capacity to overcome
it, at least in part ; thus recognising his liberty. Earth
is in his eyes a place of probation, even of expiation ;
for Plato is far removed from superficial optimism.
Our present condition he describes as a fall and a
punishment. ^ Formerly,' he says, ' in the anterior life,
our soul contemplated essences. Its beauty shone in
all its splendour, when, mingling with the celestial
chorus, we followed in the train of Jupiter, as other
beings followed other gods ; when enjoying a ravishing
view and spectacle, we were initiated into mysteries
which may be called the blessed, and which we cele-
brated, exempt from the imperfections and miseries
that awaited us in death ; when, having attained the
highest degree of initiation, we admired these perfect
objects, which we contemplated in a pure light, pure
ourselves, and free from the grave we call the body. Par-
don this difipQseness,' adds Plato, Ho the regret inspired
by the recollection of the spectacle we then enjoyed.
This happy life we forfeited by our fault.' Led away
by dangerous attachments, our soul forgot the sacred
things it had contemplated. We now resemble those
captives, so poetically described in the seventh book of
the Bejyublic, chained in the cavern which serves as
their prison, their backs turned to the light, and seeing,
consequently, but the shadows of the objects which

124 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

pass behind them, without once seeing the objects
themselves. Nevertheless, these pale fugitive shadows
suffice to revive in us the reminiscence of the higher
world we inhabited, if we have not absolutely given
the reins to the impetuous untamed horse, which, in
Platonic symbolism, represents material life. Man,
who is still full of the recollection of the holy mysteries,
is transported, by the imperfect beauty he sees on
earth, towards the perfect beauty he formerly contem-
plated ; his soul recovers the wings which formerly
bore it through the serene regions of essences. De-
tached from earthly cares, and solely occupied with
what is divine, he is blamed by the multitude, who
treat him as a madman, and who do not see that he is
inspired. Beauty — splendour of truth, radiation from
God, and which, altered and fragmentary as it is on
earth, recalls sovereign beauty — is not to be the object
merely of our admiration. The philosopher is not
invited to a sterile contemplation ; he should realize
the good : all Plato's ethics are intended to teach how
this can be attained. We already know the nature of
the real good, — the real good is God. To practise good,
is to resemble God. But God is the One and Absolute
Being. Evil, as we have seen, is identified with change
and diversity — with material life. To resemble God, is
accordingly to aspire after unity, and to fly from con-
tingence ; it is to reject as much as possible all that
partakes of contingence, to avoid diversity, to combat
it within us and outside us.

Such a system of morals, intimately connected with
Platonic metaphysics, necessarily demands the sacrifice
of individuality; it tends to absorb the parts in the
whole, and to refuse all value to the individual. This
explains how, with Plato, the moral doctrine must be
inseparable from the political ; and both were, in fact,
unfolded in the same treatise. In a system where the

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 125

good is unity, society is everything — the individual
nothing. The first of duties is to divest oneself of it as
soon as possible ; it is then only in the social sphere, or
the republic, that it is possible for man to realize the
good, because the State alone corresponds to the world
of ideas, which is the world of unity. Thus the type
of the good for the individual is borrowed from the
State, which reduces all classes of society to a unity.
Evil in us is a schism ; it is the revolt of one faculty,
breaking the internal unity, and destroying the equili-
brium of the soul, and causing the insurrection of one
part against the whole. Justice consists in binding
together all the elements which compose the human
being, in such sort that from their assemblage there
may result a well-regulated, well-harmonized whole.
Plato distinguishes four virtues : temperance, courage,
justice, and reason. To these four virtues correspond
four orders in the State : the slaves, the warriors, the
magistrates, and the philosophers, — the government
of the State should belong to the last. Justice is in-
cumbent especially on magistrates, courage on warriors,
reason on philosophers. Temperance, which in the in-
dividual consists in subjecting the lower part of man's
nature to the higher, is realized in the republic by
maintaining the social hierarchy; thus it may be
equally practised by the lower classes as by magistrates
and warriors. By this virtue, harmony is preserved in
the State, which may arrive at reflecting in some degree
the harmony and unity of the world of ideas.

The errors with which we reproach Plato in the plan
he has traced of his ideal republic, flow from the funda-
mental error of his system. If he suppresses property,
if he puts an end to family by sanctioning community
of women, and opposes all domestic education, he is
only consistent with the general tendency of his logic,
which implies the sacrifice of the individual to the

126 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

phantom of unity, and which allows no value to the
parts composing the whole, compared to the whole
itself. The barriers behind which private life takes
refuge, must be removed, since community of goods is
the ideal of a really philosophic republic. Logically,
Plato should have gone further ; he should have gone
the length of absolute asceticism, the germ of which is
latent in all dualism. But Greece, and above all Greece
after the days of Pericles, was not the East. The air
breathed there made men free and strong, it impelled
to activity. Plato did not therefore profess universal
annihilation, but the effacement of the individual. As
he saw in time the mutable image of eternity, he wished
his ideal republic to be a mutable image of the unity
of the higher world. However we may regret his
errors, we cannot but acknowledge that an admirable
spiritualism breathes through the picture he has drawn
of his ideal republic, where, from gymnastics and music
to philosophy, all should tend to a resemblance to God.
We cannot but be touched at the elevated manner in
which he treats of the education of youth, whom he
would remove from all corrupting influence, and the
wings of whose soul he would nourish with the lumi-
nous substance of truth and beauty, which alone they
can assimilate.

We have finished our sketch of this great philosophy,
which has fulfilled so important a part in the intellec-
tual and religious history of humanity ; and it is now
easy to measure the distance which separates it from
Christianity. It is impossible to set aside his meta-
physics, treating them as of no account, in order to con-
fine ourselves to his moral doctrine ; for we find as
great a difference between the moral doctrines of Christ
and Plato, as there is between the Christian dogma and
the lofty speculations of the Academy. Nor could it
be otherwise ; for the total separation between dogma

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 127

and moral doctrine is an invention of that vulgar phi-
losophy which supposes man can rest satisfied with ap-
lications without going back to principles.

More especially would this be impossible in the case
of the great idealist of antiquity, who only lived for the
ideal and supernal world. Such as your God is, such
will be your duty ; as is your doctrine, will be your
morality. The distance that separates Plato's god from
the Christian's God, separates the two systems of morals.
In the one, dualism leads to the annihilation of the
individual ; in the other, spiritualism, triumphant,
consecrates human individuality, and makes it the
corner-stone of the edifice. Plato, like the Gospel,
says to man that his duty is to resemble God ; but,
while Plato's god is only a sublime idea, a being of the
reason which does not enter into communication with
man, the God of Christians is the living God, the most
holy and the most good — ^the God revealed by Jesus
Christ, whose name is Love. Hence the riches and
fecundity of the moral doctrine of the Gospels.

If we point out these imperfections in Platonism, it
is in no spirit of depreciation ; far from it. We rather
aim at preserving to it its true mission. If we regard
this sublime philosophy as a preparation for Chris-
tianity, instead of seeking in it an equivalent to the
Gospel, we shall not need to overstate its grandeur in
order to estimate its real value. It was this philosophy
that gave the death-blow to polytheism, against which
it never ceased levelling its victorious polemics. Plato,
the poet -philosopher, sacrificed Homer himself to mo-
notheism. We may measure the energy of the convic-
tion by the greatness of the sacrifice. He could not
pardon the syren whose songs had fascinated Greece,
the fresh brilliant poetry that had inspired its religion.
He crowned it with flowers, but banished it, because it
had lowered the religious ideal of conscience. Plato

128 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

admitted humanism, but he spiritualized and trans-
formed it. Nor was it the whole of humanity he
deified : he only recognised divinity in the higher part
of our being. He thus carried Hellenism to the highest
point it could reach. He gathered up its noblest ele-
ments in order to purify and harmonize them. He was
thus, after Socrates, the inspired apostle of the moral
idea, — not, it is true, understood in all its depth, but
nevertheless presented in all its sanctity and in all its
inflexible rigour. When we read the Gorgias^ the
Philebus^ and, above all, the treatise on the Eejniblic
and the LaivSj with what noble joy we are filled on
hearing the grand voice of human conscience sweeping
away all the sophisms of personal interest and the
tumult of passions ! If he calls us to witness the
triumph of the wicked in the first part of the Republic^
it is in order that, at the conclusion of the book, we
shall see the deceitfulness of this triumph. ' As to the
wicked,' he says, ' I maintain, that even if they succeed
at first in concealing what they are, most of them be-
tray themselves at the end of their career. They are
covered with ridicule and opprobrium ; and present evils
are nothing compared with those that await them in the
other life. As to the just man, whether in sickness or
pove^rty, these imaginary evils will turn to his advantage
in this life and after his death, because the providence
of the gods is necessarily attentive to the interests of
him who labours to become just, and to attain, by the
practice of virtue, to the most perfect resemblance of
the divinity that is humanly possible. It is not natural
that a man of this character should be neglected by him
whom he endeavours to resemble.' Plato rises high
above all eudemonism, and declares distinctly in the
Gorgias^ that it is better to suffer injustice than to
commit it. ' I maintain,' he says, ' that what is most
shameful, is not to be struck unjustly on the cheek or

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 129

to be wounded in the body; but that to strike and
wound me unjustly, to rob me or reduce me to slavery,
to commit, in a word, any kind of injustice towards me
or to what is mine, is a thing far worse and more odious
for him who commits the injustice than for me who
suffer it.' It is a great combat, he says ; greater than
we think, that wherein the issue is whether we shall
be virtuous or wicked. Neither glory, nor riches, nor
dignities, nor poetry deserve that we should neglect
justice for them. The moral idea in Plato had such
intense truth, that, as has been remarked, the expression
he gives it has at times a singular analogy with texts
of the Holy Scriptures. What is most striking in his
ethical point of view, is its freedom from the dry frivol-
ous Pelagianism which is at the root of all purely philo-
sophical doctrine of morality. He admits that man
cannot by himself rise to good. ' Virtue,' we read in
the Menon^ ' is not natural to man, neither is it to be
learned, but it comes to us by a divine influence.
Virtue is the gift of God in those who possess it.'^

Plato, in laying down such a system of morals, fol-
lowed up and completed the work of Socrates. The
voice of God, that still found a profound echo in man's
heart, possessed in him an organ which all Greece gave
ear to ; and the austere revelation of conscience, this
time embodied in language too harmonious not to
entice by the beauty of form a nation of artists, they
received it. The tables of the eternal law, carved
in purest marble and marvellously sculptured, were
read by them. This fact is of immense importance
as an element in the work of preparation going on
in Paganism. Besides, Plato, in order to waken up
and develop the sentiment of man's fall, did not limit
himself to painting in purest colours an ideal morality.
He afîirmed the fall in most emphatic terms, as the

^ See the conclusion of the Menon.

130 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

fragments prove which we have quoted from the Phèdre.
The soul in its actual state appeared to him more dis-
figured than was Glaucus the seaman, ' whose primi-
tive form was not recognisable, so disfigured had he
become by his long dwelling under the ocean.' It was
not possible that, in insisting as he did upon the miser-
able condition of man upon earth, he should not have
contributed to excite an ardent aspiration towards
a better state, and to develop a thirst for salvation.
Unfortunately, while he woke up this feeling, he gave
it a false direction, since he taught salvation by science,
rather than salvation by redemption. The salvation he
saw was through the intellect, and, consequently, essen-
tially aristocratic, and ill adapted to the mass of man-
kind. This was its weak point, and must be the weak
point of all philosophy, which can only find its comple-
tion in revelation. Philosophy may discover that which
is necessary for man, but has no power to supply it. A
system cannot save man, for salvation is an act. Still
a most precious service was rendered the fallen race by
wakening up its profoundest wants, and giving them a
form of expression that must be immortal.

Moreover, Platonism was the most energetic protest
of the spirit against the flesh heard in the ancient
world. We cannot better sum up our appreciation of
this glorious school than by applying to it what Plato
so poetically says of love in the Banquet: it desires
what is sovereignly beautiful, without possessing itself
what it pursues.

We shall not dwell long on the philosophy of Aris-
totle,— not that we underrate its value, for it exercised
an influence equal to that of Plato ; it created an immor-
tal method, and accumulated precious materials ; it
was the most scientific of all the ancient systems of
philosophy; — but its relation to Christianity was far less
direct ; its service in the work of preparation consisted

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 131

in perfecting the formula of humanism, and continuing
the work of undermining polytheism. It formed, as we
know, a striking contrast to Platonism, though pro-
ceeding from it. Aristotle, who had been during
twenty years the disciple of Plato, remained faithful to
him in one point : he admitted with him, and perhaps
even more, the analogy between the higher elements of
human nature and the divinity. The god of Aristotle
is thought — the Supreme Mind. It was for this he
studied the human intellect through all its manifesta-
tions with such minute care, hoping through this means
to arrive at the universal laws of being. We can
understand from this point of view the importance he
attached to logic. Whilst Plato rose at once to ideas
in order to construct from thence the universe, while
attaching himself to what is general and eternal, Aris-
totle concentrates himself on the particLilar, the indivi-
dual, the contingent, in order to frame by patient induc-
tion his whole system of logic. We shall not follow
him in his close analysis of the forms and modes of our
judgments, whence he drew the great principles of his
philosophy. As in the syllogism, which is the ordinary
mode of OLir judgments, we proceed from the known to
the less known, so science, according to Aristotle,
should take as starting-point what is most immediately
known to us, — ^that is, sensation. This by repetition
produces recollection, recollection experience, and ex-
perience produces science. The himian mind is com-
posed of two kinds of intelligence : the passive intelli-
gence, which is, as it were, the receptacle of sensation ;
and the active intelligence, which impresses the seal of
thought on the data furnished by the senses — thence
disengaging first principles and those eternal truths,
the type of which it contains within itself This active
intelligence is the divine part of the mind. It is this
that impresses an intelligible character, a definite form.

132 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

on the incoherent, indistmct elements that reach us
through the channel of sensation. Thus we find already
this duality of matter and form which pervades the
whole system of Aristotle. Matter is passive, indeter-
minate, general; form, on the contrary, is active, de-
terminate, particular. The mind on its passive side is
related to the sensible world — on its active side, is con-
nected with the divine world. Aristotle exalts these
conclusions of logic to the height of universal principles.
He proves that the essence of a thing does not consist
in what it has in common with other things, but in
what distinguishes it from them — that it is by this
essential difference it is to be defined. Consequently,
the essence of beings is not to be sought in the ele-
ment of unity and generality, or in the idea, as Plato
taught, but in the element of diversity and speciality.
It is not possible to be in more direct opposition to
Platonism.

Thus the opposition of matter and form, with Aris-
totle, corresponds to the opposition between the ele-
ment of generality and the element of the particular.
On one side is pure passivity, the non-being; on the
other, activity, being, thought. Matter and form are
the two great causes whence proceed all beings. The
formative cause is at the same time the motive and
final cause ; for it is evidently the element of determina-
tion which impresses movement on passive matter while
determining it ; and it also is the end of being, since
being only exists really when it has passed from an in-
determinate state to a determinate. Movement is the
universal end of all beings : it is eternal and permanent.
If movement be universal and eternal, there must exist
an eternal unchangeable motive cause that produces it.
This primeval, cause of movement alone, because abso-
lute, is Aristotle's god. ^ This motionless cause of
movement,' we read in the twelfth book of his Meta-

GREEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 133

physics^ ^ is a necessary being ; and by virtue of such
necessity, it is the all-perfect ; consequently, a prin-
ciple. This all-pervading principle penetrates heaven
and all nature. It eternally possesses perfect happiness :
its happiness is in action. This primeval mover is im-
material ; for its essence is energy — it is pure thought,
thought thinking itself, the thought of thought.' The
activity of pure intelligence, such is the perfect, eternal
life of God. This prime cause of change, this absolute
perfection, moves the world while itself remains motion-
less, powerfully drawing to itself all beings. The prin-
ciple of movement is found in the universal desire for
absolute good. 'The world is moved by the attrac-
tion exercised on it by the eternal mind, the serene
energy of the divine intelligence.'

Those principles are applied to physics. Heaven is
the first force moved by the divine mover, and all things
move after it. Movement is the final end of each being.
The soul, or the rational energy, is the end, or, to speak
as Aristotle, the entelechy of the body. Morals, from
this point of view, become a kind of spiritual mechanics :
as all is reduced to movement, it is a science of equili-
brium in the higher sphere of life. We are not to ex-
pect here the sublime effort of Platonism : it is too
near earth. The aim and end of life is happiness, and
happiness is to be sought in activity in conformity with
virtue. Virtue is defined by Aristotle as a mean be-
tween two extremes. The great peripatetic philo-
sopher, like Plato, sacrificed everything to the State.
The family is the end or entelechy of the individual, and
the State is the end of the family. The dignity of the
individual is entirely overlooked. Consequently, we
find Aristotle professing the most unscrupulous princi-
ples on the subject of slavery and the slave trade, as
practised by antiquity. Ingeniously applying his onto-
logical principles, he sees in the soil and population of

134 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

a country the material element of the State. To im-
press a form on this, is the duty of the social constitu-
tion. On politics his genius casts most penetrating
light. His love for the mean betwixt extremes in all
things led him to give the preference in government
to the middle classes.

If we now appreciate as a whole the philosophy of
Aristotle, it will appear on one side to pass the line of
the great Hellenic period. It does not inaugurate, but
it prepares, the decline. In it we admire the most
powerful effort of the human mind in antiquity : it left
permanent results in psychology and logic ; it perfected
the instrument of human thought, giving to it delicacy
and precision. Yet, taking all things into consideration,
it appears to us inferior to its predecessor. In combat-
ing what was exaggerated in Plato's theory of ideas,
Aristotle's philosophy was a reaction against the ideal
itself, and prepared the way for the sensualist schools.
Leaving the problem of duality quite as unsolved as did
Platonism, he laid stress on the side sacrificed by the
other : contingence, the particular. It is easy to foresee
that the successors of Aristotle should neglect the
elevated portion of his system, that which concerns the
eternal cause of change, and attach themselves too ex-
clusively to sensation. But it is in the moral point of
view that Aristotle's inferiority is most palpable. His
god, as he himself says, is above virtue; it is pure thought,
rather than moral perfection. Indifferent and alone, he
takes no cognizance of man. Morality has no divine
basis, no eternal type, no aid to look for from above.
Consequently, Aristotle's philosophy had but little in-
fluence on conscience. Its chief merit consists in having
given to Hellenic humanism its most perfect formula,
in defining God as the eternal reason — thought con-
templating itself By this, Aristotle completed the
destruction of polytheism in the higher regions of in-

GllEEK PHILOSOPHY TO THE TIME OF ALEXANDER. 135

telligence. ^For several to command,' says Aristotle
in his Metaphysics, ^ is not good ; there should be but
one chief. A tradition, handed down from remotest
antiquity, and transmitted under the veil of fable, says
that all the stars are gods, and that the Divinity
embraces the whole of nature. All the rest is but a
fabulous recital, invented to persuade the vulgar, and to
serve the cause of laws and human interests. Thus
they give human forms to their gods, or represent them
under the figure of certain animals, and a thousand
other inventions derived from such fables.' This pas-
sage in itself suffices to prove that we have reached the
term of the period of progress and glory of Paganism.
From the East to Greece, the idea of God had become
purified and clearer; man began to understand that
union with the Divinity was something else than the
pantheistic absorption, or an apotheosis of humanity.
He caught glimpses of a holier union; a reparation
worthier God and himself But at the same time he
knows not where to find it. The purifying of the re-
ligious idea, and the progress of the philosophic idea,
evoked a new ideal ; but this ideal was vague and re-
mote. Nor has he the means of realizing it. He knows
sufficient to make him renounce his ancient religion, but
not enough to found a faith which can satisfy him.
Wherefore we are not to be surprised that the grand
philosophic period of Greece should be followed by one
of incredulity, moral collapse, inaugurating the long and
universal decadence ; which was, perhaps, as necessary to
the work of preparation as was the period of religious
and philosophic development.

136 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

IT. GRECO-ROMAN PAGANISM.

TRANSFORMATION OF ANCIENT PAGANISM FROM THE TIME
OF ALEXANDER, AND UNDER THE ROMAN DOMINATION.

GREECE UNDER ALEXANDER AND HIS SUCCESSORS.

The decline of Hellenism began at the time of its
greatest external glory. We may date it from the
conquests of Alexander ; for to undergo the influence
of the East, was synonymous with decline, a step
backwards, a partial relapse from humanism to the
old religions of Nature. This gathering together of
all creeds and all gods necessarily tended to their
mutual destruction; and from the wrecks of all their
altars we find erected the altar to the unknown God,
the mysterious inheritor which the old world so long
looked forward to. From the time of Philip and Alex-
ander, the old democratic type, which had been so
favourable to the development of Hellenic genius, be-
came gradually effaced. It disappeared as an institution
disappears that possesses immense vitality, — not sud-
denly, but gradually, and with frequent efforts at
restoration. Athens still cast a vivid light on expiring
liberty. In this city of the Muses, political glory was
inseparable from literary fame. Demosthenes, while
defending the Republic, gave to the world the finest
models of eloquence, and conferred immortality on
orations of ephemeral interest by impressing upon them
the perfection of form.

After the death of this great citizen, Athens rapidly
sank ; and, notwithstanding a few feeble efibrts to re-
cover its independence, gradually adapted itself to a
foreign yoke. The same citizens that had applauded

GREECE UNDER ALEXANDER AND HIS SUCCESSORS. 137

the orations of Demosthenes, marched out to meet
King Demetrius, some years after his heroic struggle
against Macedon, carrying crowns of laurel, and chanting
songs such as this : ' Other gods are too far off, or are
deaf; they either do not exist, or are indifferent to
us ; but thee we see before us. Thou art not an
ei^gy in wood or stone, but a body of flesh and blood.'
The different states of Greece were subjected to the
same fate. Handed over from one domination to
another in the struggles of Alexander's lieutenants,
they endeavoured to reconquer their independence by
forming themselves into confederations, but were power-
less to unite even in defence of a common cause. The
Achaean and Etolian leagues were weakened by internal
discords ; and it was in vain Sparta tried to recover her
supremacy. Divided amongst themselves, the small
states invoked the aid of dangerous allies, at one time
appealing to Macedon, then to Egypt. They prepared
in this way the total ruin of Greek liberty, which E-ome
was destined to put an end to for ever.

With the decline of Athens coincided the rising glory
of Alexandria, which at this period became the centre
of Greek civilisation. Athens had been the brilliant
focus of Hellenism ; the intellectual metropolis ; the
seat of a civilisation strong without hardness, graceful
without effeminacy, combining in one harmonious
whole all the qualities of the Hellenic race, which
made this little country the classic land of liberty and
art. The beautiful, through all its manifestations, was
there wrought out in most exquisite proportions, and
clad in inimitable perfection. Athens was truly the
republic of letters, the ideal democracy wherein intel-
lectual distinctions prevailed over all others — where
intellectual gifts developed themselves with marvellous
facility, and were nobly tempered in the fruitful struggles
of a free people. Alexandria, the new metropolis of

138 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Greece, was in all points the opposite of Athens. Built
by a great conqueror, whose dream was to unite the
world under his sceptre, and who had selected it as the
point of junction between the East and West, temples
were erected there to the divinities of Egypt as well as
to the divinities of Greece. It continued faithful to
the idea of its founder : the genius of the East and the
genius of the West were there blended and fused, and
mutually modified each other. Considerably enlarged
by the Ptolemies, containing in its immense library all
the treasures of ancient culture, the emporium of uni-
versal commerce, Alexandria was rather a city of the
world than the capital of a kingdom. Eepresentatives
of all religions met there. Beside the temple of Jupiter
rose the white marble temple of Serapis ; and close by
stood the synagogue of the Jew. Universal scepticism
sprang up in Alexandria, and rapidly effaced the dis-
tinctive characteristic of the Greek intellect. From
Athens to Alexandria we can follow the transformation
it underwent at this period, in religion as well as in
philosophy, in art as in literature. The fall of liberty
was necessarily followed by vast results in the ancient
world, where morals and politics were so nearly identi-
fied,— where the individual was so completely effaced
by the State. The State once humbled and enslaved,
the moral ideal was veiled, and demoralization, which
invariably follows discouragement in a society to whom
all higher consolations are unknown, made frightful
progress. In religion the mythological purifying pro-
cess, which had been so successfully pursued by the
great artists and poets of the age of Pericles, completely
ceased. We have already noticed the dissolvent action
of Greek philosophy on the national creed. It had
destroyed faith in the Olympian gods, in the name of a
higher ideal, but an ideal too vague to replace the
ancient popular faith. On this delicate point the

GREECE UNDER ALEXANDER AND HIS SUCCESSORS. 139

language of philosophers had always observed a certain
ambiguity ; the death of Socrates had taught them pru-
dence ; and they therefore adopted no definite position.
Polytheism was undermined, but not swept off; its
carcass was still left standing. Faith in Homer's gods
was gone ; but the carcass was there, and before it
many had to prostrate themselves. Greece knew too
much and too little : she knew too much to have com-
plete faith in her gods, and too little to adore another
divinity. Accordingly, we are not to be surprised to
find that the period of mythological purification was
succeeded by a period of religious degradation. Apo-
theoses were multiplied ; worships and festivals in
honour of powerful kings instituted, such as those of
Demetrius Policrate in Athens, Attains in Sycion, An-
tigone in Achaia, Ptolemy in Rhodes. At the same
time, contact wâth the East led to a restoration of the
ancient worship of nature : the worship of Bacchus
rapidly increased, assuming a more and more Asiatic
character. Impiety took advantage of this degradation
of the religious idea ; and Evhemere of Messina, 300
B.c., openly declared that the gods were ancient kings
deified by fear or superstition after death. Aphrodite,
he maintained, had been a beautiful courtesan ; and
Harmonia a Phrygian dancer, seduced by Cadmus.

The philosophic movement of this period followed the
same downward path. After what has been said of
Aristotle's philosophy, it is easy to foresee the danger
that necessarily followed in the track of his disciples.
If the vigour of his genius kept him from sinking down
the inclined plane of sensualism, towards which his
system tended, his successors were incapable of the
same effort. The noble part of his Metaphysics, con-
cerning the changeless cause of movement — the all-per-
fect God deriving happiness in the contemplation of his
own perfections, the thought of thought — all this grand

140 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

side of his philosophy was forgotten or ignored ; and the
counsel which, in opposition to Platonism, he gave his
disciples, that they should attach themselves above all
to sensation, being misinterpreted and exaggerated by
them, necessarily, in a time of moral collapse, opened
the way to sensualism. Already had his immediate dis-
ciples, the peripateticians Dicearchus and Straton, de-
liberately set aside the god of philosophy, affirming that
a divinity was unnecessary to the explanation of the
formation of the world. Thus we see, as at all times
of social degeneracy, scepticism appeared, covering its
bitter sadness with an ironical laugh : it rose up to pro-
claim cruel deceptions, and its triumph was marked by
the ruin of all greatness. In the same way that the
first sceptics set atomism and the docrine of the Elean
school against each other, the new sceptics opposed
Aristotle to Plato, and Plato to Aristotle. They found
an ignoble pleasure in seeing these two illustrious philo-
sophers mutually stab each other, and finally fall with
philosophy itself, whose most powerful representatives
they had been. Timon and Pyrrhon declared, that of
each thing it might be said to be and not to be ; and that,
consequently, we should cease tormenting ourselves,
and seek to attain absolute calm, which they dignified
by the name of ataraxie. Spectators of the disgrace of
their country, surrounded by examples of pusillanimity
and corruption, they wrote this maxim — one worthy of
a time when liberty dies betrayed by the senses : ' No-
thing is infamous ; nothing is in itself just ; laws and
customs alone constitute what is justice and what is
iniquity.' Having reached this extreme, scepticism dies
out in the vacuum it creates around it. Pyrrhon de-
clared that even negation too definitely affirmed, implied
the possibility of certainty, and that therefore we should
abstain from it.

Were we to estimate the importance of a school by

GREECE UNDER ALEXANDER AND HIS SUCCESSORS. 141

its duration, no glory would be comparable with that
attached to the Epicurean and Stoic schools. Yet these
two systems implied a decadence in philosophy — first,
because they profess disdain of all high speculation ;
secondly, that they are based on sensualist principles.

It is unnecessary to enter largely into Epicureanism.
According to Epicurus, philosophy is essentially the art
of making oneself happy. It is therefore a system of
morality. And what morality ! Its leading principle
is, that we should fly from suffering and seek happiness,
which, according to him, is identical with pleasure. We
should be guided in our choice of pleasure by the con-
sideration of avoiding suffering. It is on this account
that virtue, which consists in moderation, is desirable.
Epicurus distinctly says that the beginning and root of
all good is in the pleasures of the table. He adds, that
we should avoid injuring our neighbour, so that he may
not injure our interests. In logic, all is referred to sen-
sation ; pure atomism is the principle of the Epicurean
system of physics. Bodies were formed by the combina-
tion of atoms ; the soul is composed of lighter atoms,
and will perish as soon as they separate. The gods are
material beings, like our souls. Impassible, taking no
cognizance of us, it is needless to weary them, rather
ourselves, by praying to them. Such a system of philo-
sophy condemns itself: it may suit a time of degradation
and corruption, by inculcating the impunity of inj ustice
and the lawfulness of sensuality. There can be no
surer means of enslaving a free people than by degrading
them.

Stoicism, founded by Zeno, and completed by Clean-
thus and Chrysippus, set out from logical principles
identical with those of Epicureanism, and concluded
with a system of morals diametrically the reverse. It
also takes sensation as the starting-point of all science.
Ideas are inscribed upon the soul by sensation, as on

1A2 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

soft wax prepared to receive the impress. Certainty is
founded upon sensible evidence, and truth itself is cor-
poral. The Stoics professed the most decided pantheism.
According to them, the two principles of the universe
are matter and reason ; the latter being a subtle fire,
called the artistic fire, the active principle diffused
through the universe, like blood through our veins.
This is their god, the universal Jupiter, that penetrates
all things. The world, taken as a whole, realizes the
good ; evil is but relative and apparent ; it consists in
particularity and passivity. Besides, all things are sub-
ject to the laws of fatality. The soul is not immortal,
being corporal. The portion of the universal soul that
animates it, becomes finally merged into the active prin-
ciple of the world. The universe is to be destroyed by
fire, but to be recreated after the combustion. From
this materialistic physical system the Stoics educed a
severe moral system, but one impossible to realize, and
often inconsistent. The first maxim seems, at first sight,
to belong to Epicureanism. 'We should,' says Zeno,
' conform ourselves to nature.' But nature here means
the active principle, reason. To conform to nature, is
therefore to give the ascendency to the rational, active
element; to rise above passivity; to triumph over
emotion, over suffering, over pleasure. Since pleasure
is a passive state of the soul, its aim is to attain impassi-
bility. Virtue is identical with reason, and is incul-
cated as a system. It is absolute in its nature, and is
possessed, or is not possessed, — the rational principle
being one and indivisible. There are no degrees, no
shades, in moral life. Stoicism, in its early form, did
not profess the rigour it afterwards assumed in Rome.
In Athens it never reached the same height. It would
appear that the early Stoics, under pretext of impassi-
bility, unscrupulously tolerated some of the most shame-
ful vices of Paganism.

GREECE UNDER ALEXANDER AND HIS SUCCESSORS. 143

At a later period, the philosophy of the Porch under-
went a notable purification, and rallied to itself all great
souls who desired to react against the frightful moral
degradation of imperial Rome. It became the refuge
of all noble spirits ; but, as we shall see, though it car-
ried its severity to the farthest limit, it was never able
to neutralize the consequences of its fundamental prin-
ciples. It could not rise to spiritualism. Denying both
God and immortality, morality was left without its true
basis, reducing all to the Ego ; it was, in spite of appear-
ances, tainted with an incurable egotism. Pride takes
from it all disinterestedness. Disheartened by its meta-
physical impotency, it concentrated itself upon practical
applications. If Stoicism was powerful as a protest
against the worst infamies of Paganism, all it could do
was to bear testimony to that decline, without being
able to arrest it.

Scepticism, unable to find for itself a master either
amongst Stoics or Epicureans, reappeared under a new
garb, and, sheltering itself under the name of Plato,
pretended to renew the chain of true Socratic traditions.
The New Academy, at first moderate and prudent
under Arcesilas, taught through Carneades that cer-
tainty upon any subject was impossible. Adopting the
tenet of the Stoics, that sensation is the source of our
knowledge, Carneades had no difficulty in proving that
sensation can yield no criterion -of truth, and hence
concluded that we must rest satisfied with the probable.
The natural consequence of such a principle is eude-
monism, and to it Carneades was led. Thus we find
that once philosophy deserted the heights of Platonism,
it fell into materialism and scepticism, and was con-
demned to play the miserable part of reducing to
maxims the practices of a most corrupt period.

If from philosophy we turn to literature, we shall be
still more struck by the transformation which Greek

144 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

genius had undergone. Creative inspiration had died
out ; it no longer breathed the vivifying air of hberty,
was no longer fortified by the manly struggles of public
life. Accordingly, in all that implies development of
political existence, the decline is remarkable. The two
forms of composition which at this time attained any
real distinction were the New Comedy and the Idylle.
Menander to paint the vices of private life, and Theo-
critus to celebrate the charms of solitude, needed not
the noble inspiration of patriotism. Nothing can re-
place this in the higher walks of poetry. The splendid
hospitality with which the most eminent representa-
tives of letters and science were received at Alexandria
failed to rekindle the inspiration that animated -zEschy-
lus, Sophocles, and Pindar. Tragedy is no longer the
solemn representation of the national myths, but a
literary exercise — an academical competition, where
the king distributes the prizes. The seven poets of the
Pleiades, in spite of their ambitious appellation, did
not rise above mediocrity, and were mere declaimers and
erudites.

Epic poetry ran into dissertations, and became didac-
tic and scientific. Callimachus of C}n:ene does not sing
of heroes, but of causes. Dicearchus writes a geogra-
phical description of Greece, and Aratus composes a
poem on phenomena. The Argonauts of Apollonius of
Rhodes, though often attaining to real beauty of form,
is rather the production of an erudite than of a poet :
belief, simplicity, enthusiasm, are wanting. Occasion-
ally we meet a passage of poetry — a fine verse may
surprise us — a brilliant descriptive passage ; but reflec-
tion predominates, and with it coldness. The time is
not yet ripe for a new source of poetry to spring up out
of the dried, exhausted soil, — the poetry of melancholy,
enlightened by prophetic presentiment. The old world
was not yet sufficiently humbled. It had ceased to add

GREECE UNDER ALEXANDER AND HIS SUCCESSORS. 145

to its wealth, but went on making its inventory, and en-
joyed a keen satisfaction in the task ; and this satisfac-
tion, unlike enthusiasm, is most adverse to poetry. If
poets are not forthcoming, grammarians and commenta-
tors abound — they fix the canons of Greek literature,
and carefully determine the really classic works ; thus
acknowledging that the great literary epoch is past,
and that they and their successors were henceforth to
be reduced to the necessity of imitating those immortal
types of the beautiful without making an effort to
create others. Zenodotus, Aristophanes of Byzantium,
and Aristarchus hold the first rank amongst critics and
grammarians ; but, though able dissectors of the grand
school of poetry, they could not resuscitate it. History
alone profited by the new conditions in which literature
was placed; its horizon was enlarged, and it was no
longer confined to exclusively national topics. With
Polybius it began its researches into the hidden chain
of causes and effects. Eloquence, on the contrar}',
rapidly declined : it had lost the nervous, passionate
language of public debates among a free people ; and the
more shallow and empty it became, the more it assumed
ample forms and affected false majesty. Cicero admir-
ably characterizes it by the word Asiatic, thus painting
by one word its frivolous pomp and meanness.

One might suppose, that with Alexander a new and
wider extension would have opened for Greek art. Its
first contact with the East gave new stimulus to inspira-
tion without deteriorating it. Hellenic nationality
had still too much vitality to abdicate : it was possible
that the Greek artist, while captivated by Oriental
grandeur, would still cling to the traditions of the Greek
schools. Nevertheless, the new order of things inaugur-
ated by the conqueror, precipitated the decline of the
plastic arts. Amongst the intelligent democracies of
Greece, the artist had to seize the spirit and imagination

K

14G PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

of a whole people who were themselves artists. He
had, consequently, to attach himself to a point of view,
at once elevated, universal, and truly human ; hence the
religious and patriotic character of his inspiration. But
this ceased when princes became the protectors of artists.
Henceforward their preoccupation was to flatter their
patrons' tastes and pleasures. All the grand ideas of
Hellenism had been expressed by the glorious artists of
the time of Pericles. But they, and the poets their
cotemporaries, carried away with them the noble in-
spirations which they had obeyed. Their successors
were initiated into all the secrets of art, and wielded
the chisel with unsurpassing skill; but they had no
grand ideas, certainly no religious ideas, to express. Art
became a courtier, and performed its functions with
wonderful distinction ; but nothing could redeem it from
the consequences of the vile condition it had accepted.
Palaces rather than temples were constructed. The
brilliant and useful became the aim of the artist, as the
monuments of Alexandria and Antioch testify. The
decoration of man's dwelling-place was more the subject
of preoccupation than how to confer an imposing cha-
racter upon religious edifices. The Corinthian order had
universally dethroned the Doric ; mechanic arts received
extraordinary development; chariots, warlike instru-
ments, were luxuriously ornamented ; sculpture multi-
plied the statues of princes, and marbles personifying
famous cities. Statues of the gods, being less profitable,
became rarer. The school of Rhodes, founded at this
period, produced such chef s-a' œuvres as the Laocoon and
the Farnese Bull. But the preoccupation about effect is
already evident. There is something in them theatrical,
though the rules of beauty are still faithfully adhered to.
In proportion as true inspiration fails, the greater will
be the search after effect, and greater the distance from
pure, calm, classic beauty. Precious stones were elabo-

ROME BEFORK AND AFTKR THE CONQUEST OF GREECE. 147

rately worked, as was all that pertained to luxury. Paint
ing followed the same course as sculpture : it became a
trade, became degraded and prodigal. Mosaic work, con-
tnbutmg to the decoration of palaces, assumed an unfor-
tunate prominence. Thus in religion, as in philosophy
and art, the decadence is prepared,— retarded for a time
and concealed by the splendour of a refined civilisation'
but spreadmg with irresistible sway, owing to the in-
creasmg corruption, and the destruction of all moral
bases m the ancient world. A notable event was about
to hasten on this degeneracy— the conquest of Greece
and of the world by Rome, and the formation of the
-empire.

ROME BEFORE AND AFTER THE CONQUEST OF GREECE.

While Greece was wasting strength in intestine
struggles, a new power was rising in Italy, of which
It was easy to prognosticate that it would one day
become the successful inheritor of the conquests of
Alexander. Its origin had been obscure and humble •
Its cradle, a small town in Latium, inhabited by a rude'
wild population, composed of shepherds and brigands'
But this rude tribe, that in many respects deserved
the name of barbarian, which the Greeks so lavishly
bestowed, possessed a hidden force which is the secret
ot great things, and which enables man to achieve the
impossible. It had faith in its destinies ; and this faith
was indomitable, for we find it reappearing after each
deleat with increased energy. The Roman people
allowed themselves no respite till their destiny as con-
querors was fulfilled, but marched on with heroic, in-
defatigable perseverance. No victory satisfied their
ambition ; no defeat shook their courage. Defeated, they
waited the return of fortune ; conquerors, they matched
onwards. Never did the unity and solidarité oî the dif-
ferent generations of a people appear more evident One

148 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

might suppose them to be the same man animated by
the same idea. The task undertaken by the fathers was
continued without hesitation or delay by the sons, from
the point at which it had been dropped. This vigorous
Roman race was nerved and tempered by the struggles
of the democracy, as well as by their foreign wars.
Violent disputes between patricians and plebeians make
up the internal history of Rome, giving to its people
that character of pride and hardness which marks their
genius. They grew up in the atmosphere of stormy
liberty, in which too many passions were stirred for it
to be bloodless. In agricultural labours the Roman
sought repose from the toils of war and the forum ; the
plough and sword were his constant companions. Hence
a simplicity of life verging on austerity ; a something
grand and serious permeating his whole existence ;
purity of morals, and dignity of the domestic hearth ;
but, at the same time, an implacable severity towards
the vanquished and the stranger. The Roman of the
republic, it has been truly said, was pre-eminently the
expression of natural right : he represents what is in-
exorable in it, and embodied it in formulas with incom-
parable clearness and practical sense ; but he was un-
able to understand that rights implied duties. He con-
sidered himself master of mankind, assuming them to
be his legitimate property ; whilst in return he owed
them nothing but proconsuls to carry out their fiscal
relations. This inflexibility and pride still breathe in
the language of this conquering race, which is precise as
a military order, brief as a word of command in battle ;
neglecting all those delicate articulations which give
grace and pliancy to speech, and with which the Greek
idiom abounds. Festinat ad res. It is the language of
action, hard and cutting as a sword. Not contented
with painting thought, it carves and chisels it.

We can easilv conceive that the religion of such a

ROME BEFORE AND AFTER THE CONQUEST OF GREECE. 149

people must have differed profoundly from that of the
Greeks. Their first creed was a mixture of old local
traditions. In their religious ideas we find traces of
the religion of Nature — adoration of its forces and laws.
The hidden gods worshipped in Etruria represented the
inexorable and mysterious power of Nature. The Indra
of the Yedas reappears in the Etruscan religion, which,
like the early Yedas, sees the highest manifestation of
the divinity in the roar of thunder and the brightness
of the lightning. The Etruscans sought in lightning
the signs of divine will ; the science of augury was much
cultivated amongst them. Their religion was essentially
an art, the art of discovering the designs of the gods,
and exercising an influence upon them by means of
various rites. Much importance was likewise attached
to divinities of an inferior order — demons or genii, styled
Lares, which were regarded as protectors of the house-
hold hearth and family. This singular religion, blended
with the various worships of Latium, and in a slight
measure enriched with Hellenic traditions that reached
them through Magna Grecia, was the ground-work of the
national religion of Rome. But the proud city was not
long in stamping religion with the same impress it left
on all it touched. In every respect Roman genius was a
contrast to that of Greece, being entirely devoid of that
rich imagination which could create myths, and make
the history of the gods one brilliant poetry. Till the day
Greece, subjugated by Rome, conquered it morally, and
spread over it its entire civilisation, nothing could be
more poor or nude than the Roman mythology. With-
out any ideal character, it is the most prosaic of re-
ligions. Never seeking to invent poetic legends, it made
no attempt to glorify the founders of the race under the
name of heroes, but deified real life without endeavour-
ing to transform it. Essentially agricultural, it took
hold of all the details of field-life, in order to consecrate

150 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

and sanctify them. The gods are simple abstractions of
Nature, without any real analogy with man, but imper-
sonal as the laws of the physical world, and indefinitely
multipUed, although the worship of Jupiter Maximus
maintained a kind of monotheism at Rome. ^The
whole Roman mythology,' says Benjamin Constant,
' was not only moral, but historical. Each temple, each
statue, each festival, recalled to the Romans some
danger from which the gods had saved Rome. Each
divinity had some special virtue under its protection :
Jupiter inspired courage ; Yenus, conjugal fidelity; Nep-
tune prepared for prudent resolutions ; Hercules, for in-
violable vows.' Juno Sospita was worshipped for having
granted the Romans a signal victory over the Gauls ;
Jupiter Stator had arrested their flight; Castor and
Pollux had fought with them ; Jupiter Latial presided
over the alliance of all the Latin tribes. The Roman
priesthood was elective, and not the fief of certain special
families, as in Greece ; and enjoyed considerable political
influence, one of its functions being to pronounce on the
legality of adoptions and of wills. The name of Pontiff
comes from the bridge (pons) which Ancus Martins built
across the Tiber, and which was placed in the custody
of the priests. The festivals celebrated at Rome were
almost all consecrations of its history. The Lemuries
were solemn expiations for the murder committed by
its first king ; the Quirinals perpetuated his apotheosis ;
the Sabian dances were celebrated in honour of the
buckler which the gods had thrown down from heaven
to the Romans. Thus we see the human and national
idea prevailed over the religious idea. The characteristic
feature of their worship was the complexity of its ritual,
and the multiplicity of its sacrifices. The science of the
aruspices and augurs was cultivated at Rome as at
Etruria. The gods, lares and pénates, were worshipped
with especial predilection.

ROME BEFORE AND AFTER THE CONQUEST OF GREECE. 151

A profound change was wrought in the constitution
and spirit of the Roman people from the time when,
masters of Italy and conquerors of Carthage, no further
obstacle stood in the way of their ambition. The spoils
of conquered provinces gorged Rome with wealth ; in-
solent luxury superseded ancient simplicity of manners.
The middle classes, from which had been recruited the
heroic legions that had secured Roman preponderance,
now gradually disappeared. There remained but a
corrupt aristocracy, and a turbulent, imperious herd of
beggars, who became the tools of the different factions.

The conquest of Greece, completed 146 b.c., more than
any other event, hastened the decomposition of ancient
society. The contact of two such opposite civilisations
was equally fatal to both, — each communicating to the
other its share of corruption. The Roman retained his
rudeness, but had lost his primitive austerity of manners,
and pursued with savage greed the acquisition of wealth
and pleasure. Suddenly transported into the midst of
marvellous artistic treasures, he became, as it were, in-
toxicated ; and, though unable to feel their value, he at
once set about appropriating them. But Greek culture
was not as easy to conquer as Greek provinces. Its
precious marbles might be carried to Rome, but not its
delicate grace. Its vices were more easily borrowed, as
were the doctrines of the schools which justified them,
such as the Epicurean and Sceptic. Greece was to
Rome what we might imagine an intelligent slave to
be, who seeks to dominate her master by flattering his
passions. She degraded herself more and more by this
shameful game, without raising to her own level her
formidable disciple, who was at the same time her
tyrant. The Roman mode of reciting the lesson taught,
completely changed its nature. The political Greek
mythology, transplanted to Rome, lost all its ideal cha-
racter : it became naturalized, and underwent a thorougli

152 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

alteration. We shall see in the ensuing period the
depth of degradation which humanism reached.

Roman literature copies Greece with Ennius and
Livius Andronicus ; but their hand is too rude to re-
produce the grace and freshness of colouring of the
original. Roman genius at this period shone only in
comedy — in works such as those of Plautus and Terence ;
the ridiculous abounding at this intermediate phase,
when new manners were at war with old national tradi-
tions. Greek artists filled the city, carrying with them
their facility, elegance, and pliant manners ; but as they
toiled for the oppressors of their country, we may judge
how completely all noble inspiration must have been
wanting. Nevertheless, they were still too near the
grand artistic epoch not to have produced admirable
works. Rome was embellished by them and their dis-
ciples. There was nothing henceforward to arrest the
tide of luxury.

But the most active agent of corruption was the
Greek Sophist, the representative of the New Academy,
the used-up Sceptic who, like Carneadas, came to teach
Rome contempt for all sacred things, and to undermine
the moral bases of society. All these combined influ-
ences led to the fall of the republic. Nothing better
prepares humanity to acquiesce with docility in the de-
signs of brute force than unbridled scepticism. Between
incredulity and despotism there is a secret but sure
understanding. The day Rome ceased to believe in her
gods, she ceased to believe in herself; the same blow
that struck religion struck the republic, and hence-
forward power became the disputed prey of ambitious
men without fear and without scruples. Neither the
virtue of Cato, nor the eloquence of Cicero or the
dagger of Brutus, could save liberty. Rome was ripe
for the empire of the Caesars, and was worthy of it, ere
it was inaugurated by Augustus. In spite of the splen-

TUE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 1^3

dour that surrounded its opening, augmented by the
splendour of a great literary epoch, — in spite of the
repose it for some time procured the world, it neverthe-
less inaugurated, let Gibbon say what he will, that uni-
versal decline which was to demonstrate the radical
incapacity of Paganism to accomplish the work of re-
storation. Fortunately for humanity, this incapacity
became more and more felt : all eyes were turned to-
wards the East ; some lifted them higher. The ancient
world, thus sinking back upon itself, was thrilled by a
mysterious anticipation. It is this contradictory state
that we have now to paint, carefully collecting all the
signs of decline, and all the sighs for deliverance that
burst from many hearts. No period of history presents
so many contrasts, so many subjects for sadness and
indignation, and so many reasons for hope. All the
elements of good and evil are in a state of fermentation.
The great preparation is being consummated. If the
night is dark and thick, the horizon is brightening with
prophetic light.

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD.

Universal Decline and Universal Aspiration.

It may appear strange to speak of universal decline
at a time when the ancient world, almost entirely united
under one single domination, presented all the appear-
ance of power and prosperity. Including Spain, Gaul,
Britain, Italy, lUyria, Greece, Asia Minor, Egypt, Africa,
and the islands of the Mediterranean, — or, in other words,
600,000 square leagues of the most fertile countries, —
the Roman Empire all but realized the dream of all great
conquerors • that is to say, the empire of the world. It
was defended by a regular army of five hundred thou-
sand men, ranged in the ordei of the famous legions,
which constituted the most skilful military organization

154 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

known. Imperial despotism, resulting from the con-
centration in the hands of a single person of all the
functions of the republic, transformed the whole of the
ancient constitution while it preserved its semblance.
It might be supposed that it would have given peace to
the worn-out w^oiid. Augustus introduced some slight
order into the mythological chaos of Rome, and endea-
voured by means of decrees to effect a religious restora-
tion. Literature and arts reached their apogee. The
language, rendered flexible by Horace and Yirgil, united
precision to elegance, and attained that classic beauty
which is so transient in all literatures, but which fixes
the rules of beauty by being in itself its most perfect
type. However, the religious restoration, like the
literary restoration, was but a pause in the downward
course, — rather, we should say, masked it for a moment
without arresting it. The religious restoration was
purely political, and in nowise concealed that contempt
for the gods which had become universal. Of the two
great poets of the Augustan age, one was an Epicurean ;
and the other found his finest inspiration in a strange
melancholy, which he expressed in verses such as have
not since been written. Yirgil is not the poet of a
young race, but the poet of a time of sadness : he sings
at that evening hour when, as he says himself, the sha-
dows of the mountains lengthen ; but the evening was
illumined for him with mysterious lights. There are
radiant distances in his sweet, sad poetry. He sings in
his own fashion the approaching renovation. With the
exception of Yirgil, the theme the poets most loved to
celebrate was voluptuousness. Ovid's Metamorphoses
reduce the history of the gods to a series of love adven-
tures, of which the charm of the style can hardly atone
for the impiety of the theme. The literary restora-
tion enables us to estimate at its true value the worth
of the religious restoration. We are therefore justified

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 155

in considering the age of Augustus as an episode in the
history of the decUne of Paganism, which began an-
terior to it and continued after it; and, if we look
closely, we shall see that the process of social decompo-
sition was not for a day interrupted. In the picture
we present of this time, which must necessarily be one
of a summary character, we shall include the time imme-
diately preceding the empire and that which followed.

Beheld from the point of view of luxury, Roman life
was a grand life at the close of the republic and at the
outset of the empire. The houses, Seneca tells us,
were refulgent with gold; slaves, attired in gorgeous
vestments, circulated through them ; opulence shone
out in every corner; fountains shot up in sparkling
columns in the banquet-rooms. The palace of a wealthy
Eoman frequently contained four dining-rooms, twenty
bed-chambers, and a hundred other rooms besides, and
was surrounded by a double portico of marble. The
luxury of the public edifices exceeded that of private
dwellings. Divided into fourteen districts, Rome was
covered over with countless temples and aqueducts.
The forums were surrounded with thousands of statues :
the principal forum was inclosed within a double por-
tico of richly ornamented columns, under which the
people majestically beguiled their weariness. The warm
baths, destined for their use, were decorated with pic-
tures, paved with marble from Alexandria, and orna-
mented with precious mosaics ; the water was poured
out from silver cocks. The circuses were not inferior in
magnificence. Caligula carried this extravagance so far
as to scatter the circus over with gold dust. Rome was
truly the royal residence of the sovereign people of the
world. The imperial city shed such splendour, that,
according to Pliny, it seemed as if another sun had risen
on earth. Apuleius calls it the holy city. Pleasure
and festivity constituted their whole existence, — the

156 TREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

people passing incessantly from the Campus Martins to
the circus and the forum. Yet nothing could be more
precarious than this sumptuous existence. The Roman
people did not live by their own labour, but by largesses.
Mechanical arts and trades they left to slaves, whilst
their masters fed and amused them. Their food was
brought from Egypt; and their lives, as Tacitus says, were
thus at the mercy of the hazards of the sea. The for-
tunes of the wealthy classes were swallowed up by fiscal
extortions, and the enormous expenses of the most un-
bridled luxury. Population diminished at a frightful
ratio. The family instinct died out. Men no longer cared
to marry. It was in vain Augustus promulgated the
Pappia Poppaea law, punishing celibacy, and granting
recompenses to parents with large families ; but it was
evaded by the subterfuge of adoptions. Italy, which now
numbers seventeen millions of inhabitants, then num-
bered but ten millions at the outside. Thus we see, even
from the most superficial point of view, that this much
vaunted civilisation was but a gorgeous mantle covering
over utter decrepitude. We may guess what it must
have been, viewed in its moral and political aspect.
Historians who, like Gibbon, stand in admiration before
the grandeur of the empire, forget the price paid for it,
involving as it did the ruin of the noblest hopes of the
ancient world. For a society that had sacrificed all to
public life, the empire proved the cruellest deception.
Servitude, though set off by glory, and securing public
peace, as it did under Augustus, was already an irre-
parable calamity, for which no great citizen could find
consolation. From servitude to baseness there is but
one step, and we know how quickly that is taken. The
Romans had to bend beneath an ignominious, stupid,
cruel domination. If some, by a dignified, prudent
retreat, escaped the shame, they could not escape the
hideous spectacle of the degradation of Rome, and of

THE GRECO-ROxMAN WORLD. 157

seeing, as Tacitus tells us, senators and knights rush
into servitude, vying with each in proportion to the
rank of each. We need only read this implacable his-
torian to understand the indignation, wrath, and bitter
sadness accumulated in those hearts that remained un-
tainted by the universal baseness. He not only chiselled
the hideous features of the Csesars, but he engraved the
image of those debased generations that supported them,
and who, though capable of assassinating them, were
unable to give the death-blow to the institutions repre-
sented by them. He paints the Romans of the time,
pale with terror, becoming informers and executioners to
escape being victims, and finding a word of approbation
and flattery for each of their masters' infamies. This
great avenger of the human conscience, while scourging
the past, had no faith in the future. He had the soul
of a Scipio in the Rome of Nero and Yitellius. If he
utters an immortal protest against tyranny, he does so
with the tone of discouragement of a man who knows
its inutility. Let us not forget that this tyranny spread
its ramifications over the whole empire ; and that where
the Emperor was not, the proconsul was all the more
arrogant in the provinces for being servile in Rome.

The social condition was on a par with the political.
We have already alluded to the disappearance of the
middle class, which was replaced by an idle multitude
ever eager after gross pleasures, and who supplied the
Emperor, whoever he might be, with as many partisans
as he could feed parasites. This was constantly re-
cruited from the slave class : thousands of freedmen
swelled the ranks of the Roman plebeians. The oppro-
brium attached by antiquity to the artisan class, and to
manual labour, perpetuated the imperial mendicity of
a people at once poor and proud. Cicero expresses
the prejudices of his cotemporaries against the useful
arts, when he says, ' The gains of mercenaries and

158 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

labours that have no connection with the fine arts,
meaning those who sell their work, are illiberal and
sordid ; their salary only increases their servitude. All
artisans cultivate sordid arts.'

All that can be said of slavery, as it was constituted
in imperial Rome, has already been expressed. The
slave was purchased for five hundred drachma. He
possessed no rights : even his children belonged to
his master. He was nominally allowed to purchase
his freedom at the end of six years ; but there were
a thousand ways by which his owner could frustrate
his purpose. His life was held to be of such little
value, that he was sacrificed on the slightest suspicion.
All the slaves in the house of a master who had been
assassinated were put to death, and hundreds perished
to prevent the murderer escaping. In short, as Seneca
says, everything was permitted towards a slave. In
trials, he was examined by means of torture. For trifling
offences he was condemned to have his legs broken ;
and the most cruel treatment inflicted if he had the
misfortune to spill water while serving at his master's
table. A slave on one occasion was flung to the fishes
for having broken a crystal goblet. Obliged to pass the
whole night standing and silent round the banquet-
tables of their masters, if they coughed or stirred, they
were roughly chastised. ' We treat them,' says Seneca,
'not as men like ourselves, but as beasts of burden.'
Would to Heaven the Romans had confined themselves
to the abuse of the physical force of their slaves, with-
out making them subserve their infamous pleasures.
They were forced into those horrible seraglios where the
worst iniquities of the old pagan world were enacted.
If they fell ill, they were frequently left to die, to escape,
as Suetonius tells us, the trouble of tending them.

Seneca sums up in a phrase this social condition,
when he says, ' We have as many enemies as we have

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 159

slaves.' What aggravated the situatioiij was the in-
creasing number of these domestic enemies. As Tacitus
says, ' They multiply at an immense rate, whilst free-
men diminish in equal proportion.' The danger result-
ing from such a state of things was keenly felt. Pliny
the Younger writes, ' By what dangers we are beset !
No one is safe ; not even the most indulgent, gentlest
master.' The slaves avenged themselves for the cruel
treatment they had been subjected to, by actively contri-
buting to the general demoralization. The education of
children was confided to them ; and they sought to gain
protectors for themselves by flattering all their evil
propensities. They, in this way, obtained ascendency
which, later on, when they were enfranchised, made
them in a degree a sort of maires du palais. A con-
siderable number of slaves figured as gladiators in the
public games ; thus contributing not only to their
masters' amusement, but to that of a ferocious people,
whose favourite pleasure was to see human blood flow
copiously before their eyes.

Beside the multitude of citizens who lived on impe-
rial alms, were a vast number of poor excluded from
all participation in them. These were strangers and
enfranchised slaves, who lived on public charity, and
who consequently fared ill. It is true there were some
institutions for official charity ; but, like all such things,
they were powerless. No feeling was more alien to the
ancient world than that of compassion for the poor and
unfortunate. ' What is a beggar ? ' scornfully asks one
of the guests of Trimalcion in the Satyricon of Petro-
nius. Cicero himself, who is generally so nobly in-
spired, declares alms should only be given to a stranger
when involving no privation to ourselves. Plautus
makes one of his personages say, that by giving to a
poor person, we lose what we give, and only prolong a
miserable existence.

1 60 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

If we now penetrate into the interior of the Roman
family under the Cœsars, the scandal of private life will
appear at least equal to that of public life.

The family at the time of the republic was better
constituted at Rome than in Greece. Woman in the
latter country always held a low rank. Shut up within
her gynseceum, she exercised no influence, and diffused
no charms over her husband's life. Home had no ex-
istence. The sole object of marriage was to favour and
regulate the propagation of citizens for the republic.
Man sought in other relations, which were always guilty
and often abominable, relaxation from the toils of public
life. It was otherwise in Rome during the period of
republican austerity. The conjugal tie was held sacred,
and polygamy prohibited. It is true that woman, dur-
ing her whole life, was in a state of complete subjec-
tion either to her father or husband. In the first case,
she belonged so entirely to her father, that he might at
any moment resume all he had bestowed upon her.
In the second case, she was, according to legal phrase,
under her husband's hand. He possessed the right of
life or death over her ; he alone was competent to
possess. Still, under the republic, women were pro-
tected by the censorship and public opinion. The
sanctity of marriage was long maintained. Dionysius of
Halicarnassus tells us that five centuries elapsed with-
out a single divorce taking place in Rome. It is true
that the disorders which are the inevitable concomitants
of slaver}^ partially relaxed the conjugal tie. Yet, if
we compare this period with the ensuing, we may safely
af&rm that manners were then relatively pure. Mar-
riage was the first institution undermined by the influx
of corruption that marked the close of the republic, and
which exceeded all bounds under the empire. Con-
stantly dissolved by divorce, the marriage tie no longer
imposed any obligation : it was virtually annihilated by

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. * 161

the right of severing the tie at the first caprice. Seneca
mentions a woman who computed the years, not by the
names of the consuls, but by those of her husbands.
According to the energetic expression of Martial, woman
was legally an adulteress.

The Roman family, while sinking into corruption,
still retained its old harshness : the father retained his
right over his children, and largely used it.

No colours are strong enough to paint this corrup-
tion. We shall not attempt it, but merely indicate
some of its characteristics. They who desire a clear
insight into the iniquities of those times, have only
to read Juvenal, the Tacitus of private life. Women
vied with men in licentiousness. They were for the
most part bold-faced courtesans, having everything ex-
cept pure souls. Not satisfied with lovers of her own
class, the patrician woman sought out others from
among the dregs of the people, among slaves and gla-
diators. Women were sometimes to be seen combating
in the arena. Juvenal, in an image of horrible beauty,
paints in one trait the infamy of the woman of his time,
describing her laughing as she passes by the altar of
Modesty. Clement of Alexandria describes the pagan
woman with a chaster pen, but the idea he conveys in
his Pedagogue perfectly corresponds with Juvenal's sixth
Satire. Sumptuously clad ; steeped in exciting per-
fumes ; painted ; not satisfied with indecent pictures
covering her dwelling, she reproduces them in the or-
naments about her feet. She lives in the midst of ob-
scene luxury ; taken up with idle defiling gossip, or
listening to the suggestions of old panders ; surrounded
by buffoons and exotic birds ; sometimes parading the
town in a litter, going to the public baths, or to the
shops where idlers congregate. Her nights are passed
at banquets whence all decency is banished, and where
excesses are carried to the length of drunkenness.

L

162 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTL\NITY IN PAGANISM.

Thus, this elegant woman, chained to vice by golden
links like Yenus, hides under her brilliant exterior the
most shameful corruption, ' like those Egyptian tem-
ples, magnificent to look at, but hiding in their deep
sanctuary some hideous divinity.'

It would not be possible to attempt giving any idea
of the morals of the men of the time. Unnatural vice,
that incurable plague-spot of Hellenic Paganism, as-
sumed unbridled proportions at Eome. All classes were
infected. Licentiousness, accompanied as it always is
by cruelty, illustrated on a gigantic scale the connec-
tion between debauchery and murder, which we have
already indicated as a feature of the religions of Nature.
Tacitus tells us of a Roman of his day, who finished a
night's orgie by assassinating the courtesan who had
presided over the feast. This mixture of blood and
pleasure is the expression of the whole of the imperial
epoch, and explains the popularity of the ckcus, where
courtesans might be seen standing close to the arena,
the sand of which was steeped with blood, that flowed
in torrents from the gladiators. Slaves did not suflice.
Soldiers and centurions were compelled to fight. In
the morning the people repaired to the circus, and re-
mained there at noon during the interval of the games ;
in the afternoon took place nautical combats on mock
seas, which cost the lives of hundreds. To see death
was the supreme pleasure. The writers of the time
denounce the corrupting influence of the circus. ' You
meet there,' says Seneca, ^ as many vices as there are
men. Everything is full of vice and crime : infamy cir-
culates through the people, and so takes possession of all
hearts, that innocence is not only rare, but is nowhere.'
There is a feature in the corruption of those times
Avhich it is important to remark ; — there is a some-
thing feverish in it, that denotes the profound moral
malaise with which the world was tormented. Ben-

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 163

jarain Constant has eloquently said, 'that earth sepa-
rated from heaven feels as a prison to man, in which he
strikes his head against the walls of the dungeon that
shuts him in.' This noble thought, which was suggested
by the spectacle of imperial Rome, explains the instinct,
then so general, of exaggerating all things, carrying
everything to excess in voluptuousness as in luxury.
When the immortal soul has lost that faith which opens
to it the supernatural and ideal world for which it was
made, it seeks the infinite in this lower world, where it
is not to be found : it seeks it in the life of the senses,
and, not finding it, yet still seeking, it obtains the
monstrous. Hence an extravagant refinement, a false
grandeur blended with eccentricity, in pleasure as in
pomp ; — hence the grasping after the impossible in
material things. 'The aim of luxury,' says Seneca, 'is
to triumph over contradiction, and not only to feel dis-
taste for what is reasonable, but to do the very opposite.
To desire roses in winter, to plant trees on the top of
towers, is not this living in opposition to nature ? Is it
not being in opposition to nature to lay the foundations
of public baths in the middle of the sea ? ' Heliogabalus,
at a later period, in obedience to this craving for the
impossible, had the tongues of peacocks and nightingales
served up at his table, and loved to see mountains of
snow in summer gardens, and to turn day into night
and night into day in his palaces. Suetonius says that
Caligula cared for nothing but what he was told was
irrealizable, such as constructing dikes in the most
dangerous seas, levelling mountains and elevating
plains. The heart of the Roman world was devoured
by ennui. It was, Seneca says, like the hero of Homer,
who kept sometimes sitting and sometimes standing in
the restlessness of his malady. The Roman world was
sick, not only from the shocks it had received, but
from a profound disgust of all things. Surfeited, it

164 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

said, with Petronius, ' I don't wish to obtain at once the
object of my desire ; the birds of Africa please me be-
cause they are not easily reached.' Their malady has
been well styled, weariness of ordinary life. Satiated
with all they had seen, with all they possessed, they
asked in scorn, 'Is it to be always the same?' In
search of novelty they tortured Nature, but could not
escape monotony and satiety, and ended by plunging
into the mire. They abandoned themselves to the
most hideous gluttony, consuming the treasures of the
world at their gigantic repasts, which earth and sea
had been scoured to furnish. They sought a remedy by
exaggerating the evil. Crime alone could excite sensa-
tion; and, as Tacitus says, by the greatness of the iniquity
is measured the height of pleasure. The same author
mentions a suicide from no other motive than disgust
of living at such a time. This suicide may symbolize
the moral suicide of a whole world. Rome, according
to the simile of an unknown writer, may be compared
to a gladiator, who, after having vanquished all his
adversaries, concludes by turning his sword upon him-
self And this was the end of the serenity, the ataragie
of the ancient world, of which Greece was so proud.
Inaugurated by a poetic banquet to the music of in-
spired lyres, the pagan world closes in an orgie. They
felt a consciousness that they had entered upon an age
of efifeteness and death. Juvenal declares his age was
worse than the iron age, and cries, with the accent of
a soul in despair, ' Earth feeds only wicked, cowardly
men ; and the god, whoever he may be, that contem-
plates them, must laugh at them and hate them.'

Literature, under the emperors that succeeded
Augustus, was the faithful image of this degraded social
state. Seneca, in his 1 14th Epistle, eloquently complains
of the corruption of the language, which, according to
him, is the inevitable result of the corruption of morals.

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 1 G5

If literature declined, it was not that it had fallen into
discredit ; for never in its best days did it excite a more
universal interest. ^ It is the characteristic of a futile
decrepit age,' says the younger Pliny, ' to bestow the
more interest on letters, being the less preoccupied
about action. We find our joy and consolation in let-
ters.' Thus the separation between literature and
national life became daily wider : the former, serving
but to amuse the leisure hours of intellectual men, ended
in being merely a play of intellect. It was only by re-
acting energetically against the spirit of the times, as
did Tacitus and Juvenal, that it was possible to escape
the pedantry of the hel esprit. Real literary merit
could only be achieved by getting, as it were, at a dis-
tance from the age, and being in direct opposition to it.
The great writers of this epoch might all truly say it
was indignation had made them orators and poets. But
even in their indignation the influence of their cotem-
poraries is visible. The language they spoke, however
nobly they may have handled it, was no longer the
classic language in which every word is weighed and
graduated. Antitheses abound, and at each line we feel
a straining after effect. Nevertheless, noble genius and
a noble heart raised Tacitus to that degree of distinc-
tion which, when a writer attains to, he no longer be-
longs to one country and to one period, but becomes a
recognised organ of all humanity. The younger Pliny,
on the contrary, essentially belonged to his age; a refined,
intellectual man, avoiding all excesses, but censuring
none, and perfectly combining the philosopher and the
courtier. AYith no passion but the one for literature ;
never without his tablets ; hunting or walking, they are
always at hand to note down each inspiration, each
trifling effect of style that occurs to him. We feel he
was just the man to have the courage to read Livy at
Pompeii during the eruption. Still, Pliny the Younger

16G rRErARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

is not the perfect type of the Hterary man of the deca-
dence^— his talent was too fine and too genuine. Apuleius
rather represented it, who, though he hved a Httle later,
only carried to extreme a tendency existing before his
time. We need only read his Florides to appreciate the
shallowness and bombast pervading a literature written
without passion and without ideas. These pieces, which
were ingenious and florid, obtained considerable vogue
in those public readings which were the fashion of the
time. Apuleius excused himself from delivering one of
these discourses at a place where a rope-dancer had
been performing his exploits. We think no better place
could have been selected for his platform ; for literature,
as he understood it, is almost identical with the feats
executed on the tight-rope.

The fine arts shared the destiny of literature. Public
monuments under Augustus, Trajan, and the Automnes
showed forth an air of grandeur and majesty; but the dif-
ferent orders of architecture began to be mixed and con-
founded with each other ; there was a profusion of orna-
mentation. Sculpture became colossal, and painting ob-
scene. Petronius himself complains of the decline of the
fine arts, which, neglecting the noble traditions of the
past, sought to flatter the vices of a corrupt age. Still, if
art reflected but too faithfully the ignoble side of imperial
Rome, it expressed its aspirations also. The sarcophagi
especially reveal this higher inspiration, expressing that
longing for a universal revival and restoration, now be-
ginning to be felt. The subjects represented on them
are chiefly selected from the mj^ths of Ceres and Bac-
chus. The myth of Eros and Psyche is frequently
treated in a most admirable manner, — the artist repre-
senting the anguish of the soul deprived of true love.
The Eastern element began more and more to invade
the domain of art. Everything relating to the worship
of Mithra was particularly the object of predilection ; a

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 167

pantheistic spirit began to predominate ; even India and
Egypt were looked to as sources of inspiration. Some-
times art confined itself to the mere fabricating of
amulets, which popular superstition brought into de-
mand. Thus we find art reflecting and expressing all
the contrasts of this age of transition.

We can imagine what religion must have been in
such a social state. The profound degradation of the
preceding period had become more manifest. The
gathering together into the Pantheon of all the gods of
the world, placed them all in equal peril. Had they
had intelligence, as popular superstition believed, they
would have experienced the same difficulty the augurs
did in looking in each others' face without laughing;
since the mere fact of this assembling together of so
many supreme gods was for each an irremediable discom-
fiture. The mysterious voice, which, according to the
poetic legend related by Plutarch, was heard out at
sea, crying, ' Great Pan is dead,' rose up from every
heart, the voice of an incredulous age proclaiming the
end of Paganism. The oracles were silent. ^ They are
no longer what they were,' says, sadly, the same Plu-
tarch. ' In all sacred places the same sadness and silence
prevail.' We should be wrong, in accounting for this
abandonment of Hellenic Paganism, were we to attribute
it alone to the diffusion of philosophy ; but philosophy
possessed a formidable rival in the increasing progress
of Oriental Paganism. A double current was at work :
on one side, the current of impiety ; on the other, that
of superstition. We shall endeavour to analyze this
complicated religious condition.

Let us first of all observe that the official national
religion had ceased to satisfy any one ; it had sunk too
low. Humanism ended in the worship of the Emperor.
The official god, who could with a sign or frown com-
mand land, sea, war or peace, was the Emperor ; that

168 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

is to say, the chances were that he was either a furious
madman, an actor, or a monster, or all these together.
The god was at one time a Caligula, ' the cruellest of
masters, after having been the most abject of slaves;'
then a Nero, ' who had not neglected any one crime.'
To-day, an imbecile old man, like Claudius ; to-mor-
row, a sanguinary buffoon, such as Commodus, pol-
luted with every vice. It was no longer allowed to
wait the death of the god in order to celebrate his
apotheosis. In the case of Augustus, the completion
of the temple of Jupiter, which had been begun in his
honour, was postponed until after his decease ; but his
successors insisted that their altars should be erected
in their lifetime. Caligula, according to Suetonius,
mutilated some of the finest statues of antiquity in
order to surmount them with his bust, that his own
head should be adored in place of the god's. This
sacrilegious action is a faithful representation of the
transformation humanism had undergone : humanism,
that had the Jupiter Olympus of Phidias as its sym-
bol, now ended with the hideous bust of a Caligula.
'Apotheoses by flattery were indefinitely multiplied.
Proconsuls were deified by their provinces, in the hope
of being less robbed and mulcted. Adrian built tem-
ples to the beautiful Antinolis, the object of an infa-
mous passion, and instituted his worship. Such deifi-
cation degraded the idea of divinity. The old gods,
which, in the grand period of Greece, had been invested
with a certain majesty, were now debased, and placed
on a level with the new gods, which in increasing
numbers were taking their seats beside them. The
Roman emperors and this degraded Olympus were in
keeping with each other. The temple of Yenus at
Corinth was guarded by a thousand courtesans ; and
the young virgin who desired to preserve her purity was
warned to fly the temple of Jupiter. Nothing proves

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 169

more clearly the low idea formed of those gods than
the prayers addressed to them — prayers by which, ac-
cording to the satirist Perseus, the suppliant sought to
buy their favour, and to seduce them. It was impos-
sible to utter aloud what men prayed for in whispers, —
the satisfaction of guilty passions, or the possession of
unlawful gains. So that, if there was venal justice on
earth, it was but an imitation of the venal justice of
the gods, who, instead of making men better, rendered
them more cowardly and base. If a crime was com-
mitted by a prince, it was understood beforehand that
solemn thanksgiving would be offered up to the gods.
The conduct of the priests, too, contributed to their
discredit. Their morals were infamous ; their frauds
began to be seen through; and their false prophetic
inspiration was now freely talked of Apuleius describes
in vivid colours the profligacy of the priests of Cybele,
a species of favoured beggars, who fattened on public
charity, who speculated on devotion, and were alto-
gether most audacious robbers. In the presence of
such scandals, incredulity and impiety necessarily as-
sumed frightful proportions. Cicero had said, in
speaking of ancient mythology, 'Do you suppose me
so insane as to believe in such fables ? Is there any
old woman silly enough still to fear the monsters of
hell ? ' Vespasian, dying, cried out, ' Woe to me ! I am
going to become a god ! ' If in the time of Cicero in-
credulity had reached this point, we can imagine what
it became during the two succeeding centuries. Lucian,
whom later on we shall find in the ranks of the most
perfidious enemies of Christianity, began by turning
against the religion of his fathers the pointed shafts of
his irony. In the history of the second century of the
Church, we shall make a study of this original cha-
racter, this unswervingly mocking pagan, this implaca-
ble castigator of Paganism, pursuing with his cynical

170 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

laugh all the glories of the past, philosophical and
mythological. Evidently the current of ideas he had
most affinity with, was that which we have just been
tracing. It only sufficed to see how new gods were
made, to know how to unmake the old. From the
apotheosis of a Caesar to the degradation of an Olympic
god there was but a step. It took so little to create a
new divinity, that men naturally were led to demand
no more of the ancient. The element of poetry and
ideality once taken from the ancient mythology, the
gods appeared but as corrupt men; and such they
were to Lucian. Mercury is a dexterous robber ; Her-
cules, a rough gladiator, threatening Esculapius with
the weight of his blow ; Juno and Latona, two sharp-
tongued, jealous women ; Jupiter, a licentious king,
seeking to plant on earth the mistresses he had tired
of Lucian had only to collect in his writings the
blasphemous raillery that was current before his time.
This incredulity was not confined to the cultivated
classes, but reached the lower classes equally. If a
great calamity occurred, temples and altars were de-
stroyed, and the pénates often flung into the public
road. When the disaster at Pompeii took place, voices
among the crowd of fugitives were heard to say that
there were no gods. Plutarch describes the sceptic,
with his bitter smile, assisting at the solemn festivals,
and ridiculing all he saw. It is true the same Plutarch
describes also the poor superstitious wretch, wrought
up to the highest pitch of fanaticism, pale with terror
at the thought of being an object of hatred to the gods,
rolling himself in the dust and refusing all consolation ;
terror haunts him in his troubled sleep, and the phan-
toms of his dreams beset his waking hours. Supersti-
tion, says Cicero, pursues and oppresses its victim,
compassing him about wherever he goes. Meeting a
priest, hearing an oracle, the sight of a sacrifice, the

THE GEECO-ROMAN WOlîLl). 171

flight of a bird, a clap of thunder, lightning, — every-
thing revives it. Superstition often appeared in the
character of the grossest fetichism. Many believed it
was possible by means of some sort of sorcery to shut
the gods up within their own statues. Magic arts were
much practised, and we are told with what avidity
these counterfeit wonders were run after. Magicians
and necromancers grew rich upon this credulity. They
pretended to possess charms having the power to draw
down heaven and to lift earth up to the clouds, to
harden water, to evoke the spirits of the dead, to
vanquish the gods, to put out the stars, and to illu-
mine Tartarus. Thessaly was the birth-place of magic,
from whence it spread over the world. Nothing was
more natural than this preoccupation about magic arts
in a pantheistic age, when, under various names, the
forces of Nature were alone believed in. It was con-
nected, too, with that vague longing for salvation and
deliverance that was gaining ground in human hearts.

All that had been hitherto worshipped had proved
insufiB.cient. The only hope was now in the unknown ;
above all, in the occult forces of the mysterious Isis,
who, as containing the principle of universal life, effaced
other gods. It was this same aspiration towards the
unknown that inclined mens minds towards foreign
superstitions. Cotemporary writers constantly allude
to the invasion of these singular rites, which were the
more curiously sought after for being singular. Tacitus,
the representative of the old Roman mind, bitterly
laments it. The new religions had particular attraction
for women and slaves. Strange to say, it was towards
the East, and towards Egypt, that expectations were
directed. The Jews, who up to this time had been
abhorred, now made such multitudes of proselytes that
the emperors found it necessary to issue decrees against
them. Claudius laid a positive interdict upon all foreign

172 TREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

superstitions, and published a decree of proscription
against the Jews of Eome. But those efforts towards
reUgious restoration were powerless to resist the current.
The worship of Serapis and Isis, that of Cybele, the
great mother, and the Asiatic Aphrodite, were every-
where established, and testify at once to the corruption
of the time and to its religious wants. Solemn purifi-
cations, called Tauroholies^ were connected with the
worship of the Magna Mater. They consisted in the
individual being sprinkled from head to foot with the
blood of a bull. No expiation was equal to this in
value ; and he who obtained it could communicate its
virtues to those about him, to his native town, or even
to the Emperor. This anxious search after unknown
worships, this look of hope turned towards the East,
and especially towards Judea, are all so many symp-
toms of a supreme religious crisis. ' There is an idea
throughout the East,' says Suetonius, ^ that it is des-
tined that the domination of the world shall fall to
men belonging to Judea.' This idea must have passed
from the East to the West, else how shall we account
for the strong leaning towards the Jews which we have
indicated ? However this may have been, it was the
same restlessness, the same weariness that generated
the frightful sensuality of the old Roman world, making
it seek the help of the monstrous to escape from satiety,
that urged it on to the development of foreign super-
stitions. It knocked at every door, questioned every
altar, at once disabused of its own creeds, and thirsting
after truth. ' I have had myself initiated,' says Apu-
leius, ' into almost all the mysteries of Greece. I have
investigated all kinds of religions, rites, and cere-
monies, urged on by the desire for truth, and by my
veneration for the gods.' In thus speaking, he spoke
in the name of the age he lived in. In such a state of
minds, none was so welcome as he who pretended to

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 173

bring something new. All religious quacks found ready
followers. This explains the singular history of Apol-
lonius of Tyana, recorded by Philostratus, and who,
born at the same period as was Christ, was sometimes
opposed to Him by the enemies of the new religion.
His birth, according to tradition, was accompanied by
various prodigies, and had been foretold by Proteus
the diviner. After having studied at Tarsus, he
settled at Aege, in the temple of Esculapius, where it
is said he performed many miracles. He voluntarily
devoted himself to a life of poverty. After having ex-
hausted all that Greece could teach him, he travelled
through Asia, stopped at Babylon, and proceeded to
India to learn magic from the Brahmans. His return
was a triumph : he presented himself as a prophet ;
announced the plague of Ephesus ; resuscitated a young
girl at Rome ; and afterwards travelled over Egypt.
He was arrested and imprisoned by Domitian on an
accusation of conspiracy. Immediately after his libera-
tion he repaired to Ephesus, where he announced to his
audience the death of the tyrant at the moment it was
happening at Rome. Shortly after he disappeared, and
his disciples pretended that he was carried off by the
gods. Through this tissue of fables we can distinguish
all that was calculated to please expiring Paganism :
Oriental gnosis blended with Greek subtlety, magic
united to asceticism. Apollonius of Tyana was just
the character adapted to a time of confused aspirations
and of syncretism. This clever magician, who claimed
the title of liberator and prophet, owed his success to
the fact that the Greco-Roman world was, in its vague
fashion, waiting for the Deliverer who was about to
come, rather, who had already appeared amongst a
despised nation. False messiahs only succeed in an
age when the true one is expected.

Nor was philosophy more successful than religion in

174 PREPARATION TOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

restoring vigour to this worn-out society. Imported,
like art and literature, to Eome, philosophy was too
hastily developed. The Roman intellect reached at its
first bound the ultimate conclusions of Hellenic philo-
sophy, without having passed through the intermediate
stages. Less subtle than the Greek mind, without its
delicate perceptions, loving only decided colours, it
translated at once into its clear prose the dialectic
which so artfully combined heterogeneous elements, —
fused together Platonism and scepticism. Epicureanism
and temperance. At Rome each school was con-
strained to manifest at once all the consequences of its
principles, at the risk of being itself the cause of its
own death-blow. The transplantation from Athens to
Rome succeeded with but one school — and with this
because it harmonized with the fine side of Roman
nationality — the Stoic school.

Outside the schools, properly so called, a certain
philosophic spirit was diffused through all cultivated
classes. It was a practically sceptical spirit, pro-
fessing an ironical scorn of all noble preoccupations of
the soul, and treating as frivolous whatever rose above
the sphere of pleasure and material interests. This
resolved indifferentism was perfectly expressed, but not
w^ithout cynicism, in the ironical question addressed
by Pilate to Christ, ' What is truth ? ' The influence
of this practical scepticism was counterbalanced by that
of another tendency, which was becoming more and
more general towards the decline of the old pagan
world : this was the pantheistic tendency, leading back
humanity by a roundabout way to the starting-point
of all idolatries. It reigned, as we have seen, side by
side with gross superstitions in the degenerate Paganism
of the time, which was saturated with Oriental ideas.
It had gained the upper classes, and infected many dis-
tinguished men who would have refused to worship the

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 175

great goddess, or to associate with her dissolute priests.
Thus we find Phny the Elder declaring in his great
work, which was the Encyclopaedia of his time, that
the world is a divinity, eternal, and immense, without
generating cause and without end. Yarro, whom St
Augustine refutes in the 7th book of his City of God^
appears to have professed a pantheism identical with
that of Pliny. He recognised a soul of the world, the
different parts of which had received the names of the
different gods.

If we now turn to the schools of philosophy, the first
that presents itself is the New Academy, imported into
Rome by Carneades towards the close of the republic.
This school was well adapted to prepare the transition
between the stormy liberty of those times and the ser-
vile stagnation of the empire. It had the honour of
numbering amongst its disciples the greatest orator and
the finest intellect of that period, Cicero, of whom the
elder Pliny so eloquently said that he had enlarged the
moral boundaries of his country. Cicero was not one
of those frivolous sophists of Greece who sought in
philosophy their own material interest ; he loved it for
itself, proclaiming it the physician of the soul, and de-
clared his wish to live retired beneath its shadow : he
asks aid and protection of it. He loved truth, but it
ever escaped him. Initiated too abruptly into the re-
sults of Greek speculation, he drank of an intoxicating
cup. More the scholar than the philosopher, he sank
beneath the weight of all those systems which he de-
lighted to enumerate. He knows not where truth is ;
finds absolute truth nowhere, — for what doctrine has
not been refuted ? Accordingly, he accepts the con-
clusions of the New Academy, declaring that it is im-
possible for man to rise beyond the probable. He else-
where speaks of the sad necessity of renouncing the
discovery of truth. His curious work on the nature of

176 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

the gods is a refutation of Epicureanism by Stoicism,
and of both doctrines by the system of the New Aca-
demy. In his work on divination, Cicero lays bold
hands on Paganism, which he attacks piecemeal, and
ridicules unsparingly ; but out of all these accumulated
ruins he is unable to find the materials to build up a
new edifice, and cries out bitterly that he doubts of all
and of himself: Et mihi ipsi cUffidem.

In morals he is less negative. His Treatise on Duty
abounds in admirable passages impregnated with the
true Platonic spirit. In his sublime protest against
tyranny and usurpation we have the dying accents of
Roman liberty. Nevertheless his moral point of view
is limited, and far below the Platonic principle of con-
formity with God. Cicero's defective metaphysics per-
meates his moral system. His intellectual conclusion
having been scepticism, the clear idea of God is absent,
and with it a divine, immutable type, superior to our-
selves : hence the standard of life must necessarily be
sought below, not above — in man, not in God ; the ob-
ligation imposed will not be holiness, but honesty ; in
other words, what is generally esteemed among men,
consequently the strongest moral motive, wiU be love
of glory.

Cicero more than once falls into a happy inconsis-
tency ; as when, for example, he recognises the divine
element of conscience, and proclaims the universality of
the sentiment of justice, from which even the wicked
cannot escape. Still, upon the whole, we must rank
him amongst the disciples of Carneades ; his eloquence,
combined with his moral elevation, having failed in fill-
ing up the void of scepticism.

The philosophy of Epicurus so perfectly coincided
with the instincts of Rome, now gorged with the spoils
of the universe, that, had it not 'already existed, it
would have sprung up there. These doctrines had the

THE GRECO -ROMAN WORLD. 177

good fortune to be introduced by a great poet, whose
nervous, coloured style in some measure ennobled a
most abject doctrine. Lucretius employed his Epicu-
reanism as an instrument to batter down ancient mytho-
logy, against which he expresses himself with indigna-
tion and anger. ^ Let us trample religion under our
feet, that the victory gained over it may place us on an
equality with heaven.'^

Religion appears to him as the climax of immorality.
^ What crimes has it not committed ? ' He would have
it banished earth, in order that, along with its imaginary
gods, should be banished the vain terrors of the soul.
Death is nothing when the soul is found to be mortal.
Thus, by a strange misapprehension, Lucretius ima-
gines man becomes free as soon as he loses his faith in
the Divinity and in immortality, and fails to perceive
that it is the most effectual way of annihilating man's
liberty. The doctrines of Epicurus appeared to him as
a tranquil haven whence he could calmly contemplate
the fluctuations of an ambitious philosophy, not seeing
that this haven contained but slime, which, soon be-
coming infectious, would prove destructive to the vessel.
Far better the broad ocean, with its tempests, than this
ignoble repose. Imperial Rome but too well demon-
strated this lesson to the world.

The poetic inspiration which animated the early
Epicureans, ardent and enthusiastic in Lucretius, grace-
ful and voluptuous in Horace, was altogether wanting
in the followers of this sect under the empire, when
Epicureanism ceased to be anything more than a school
of debauchery, abjuring completely that fine fastidious-
ness which in Greece enjoined virtue as a seasoning to
pleasure, and temperance as a means of prolonging it.
It now professed and practised gross sensuality. Plu-
tarch truly characterizes it when he makes his Epicurean

1 iEquat victoria coelo. — De natura^ ch. i., v. 80.

M

178 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

philosopher say, ' Let us make all life one agreeable
banquet.' The influence of such a doctrine was, of
course, perceptible in social as well as in moral life.
' Do not seek,' say its teachers, ' to be brave soldiers,
orators, politicians, or magistrates ; be satisfied with en-
joyment.' ' They enjoin,' Plutarch says again, ' that
all political life shall be renounced.' Such a philosophy
was no doubt agreeable to despots, but what a falling
off it betrayed in that old society which once lived but
for the State !

Stoicism was in direct opposition to this odious
system, which was a disgrace to rational humanity.
In Rome, as in Greece, Stoicism adopted a vague pan-
theism which deprived morality of all divine sanction.
It prudently abstained from all profound speculations,
and dignified by the name of principle its own weak-
ness, jocosely sneering at the great philosophers who
preceded, and at their metaphysical researches. Were
we to believe the Stoics, the man who gives himself up to
lofty speculations is like one who makes a complicated
knot for the sole pleasure of undoing it : it is a game
of chance, that exercises the faculties without a purpose.
These sarcasms have a root of bitterness, and gloss over
deep discouragement. What deceptions are tacitly im-
plied in the renunciation of all fearless search ! When
philosophy thus limits itself to the sphere of applica-
tion, we may liken it to that prince of Syracuse who,
from being a king, chose to become a schoolmaster.
However, we have already acknowledged the grandeur
of Roman Stoicism : slightly theatrical and declamatory
as it was, yet it stood out in noble relief from the univer-
sal baseness with which it was surrounded. Its doctrine
was false and barren, even from the moral point of view.
The energy it developed was passive, placing as it did
perfection in insensibility. ' We should,' says Seneca,
^ dwell on heights above the reach of the arrows of fate.'

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 171)

A cruel fatalism was at the basis of the system. Fata
nos ducunt — The Fates lead us ! This is the device of
the Stoics. Not a very compromising one, or one cal-
culated to render them particularly dangerous to the
Csesars. Besides, they could adapt themselves to human
infirmity. In default of attaining to perfect insensibi-
lity, they counsel suicide. ' Against the ills of life,' says
the Stoic philosopher, ' I have the privilege of death.
All times and all places teach us how easy it is to re-
nounce life.' Thus we see that the final conclusion of the
Stoic school is suicide. Whilst the Epicurean says to
the Roman of the decadence, ' Stifle your soul in plea-
sure,' the Stoic says to him, ^Kill yourself, and die stand-
ing, in the consciousness of your egoistical strength.'
Both schools were wanting in lofty vital inspiration.

We may take Seneca as the incarnation of Roman
Stoicism with all its contradictions. We might sup-
pose we were listening to one of the Fathers of the
Church when we hear him eloquently cry out, ' Deo
parère lihertas' (1.) 'To obey God is liberty. I obey no
constraint, nor suffer anything contrary to my own will ;
and not only subject myself to God, but I make His
will mine.' (2.) Elsewhere he says, ' God, by afflic-
tion, tries, strengthens, and prepares for Himself the
soul of the just man.' (3.) He would have us support
ingratitude with a serene, compassionate, grand soul,
because persistent goodness triumphs over evil. (4.)
The image of God should not be fashioned in gold or
silver; we should look for it in the heart of the just
man who seeks to reunite himself with his original. (5.)
There is a friendship, rather, we should say, a resem-
blance, between the virtuous man and God. (6.) Never-
theless, not one can say of himself, that he is completely
innocent, for it would be to speak against the testimony
of his conscience. (7.) In other passages of his writings
Seneca seems to have a presentiment of some of the

180 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

great reforms wrought at a later period by Christianity.
He pleads the cause of the slave, — ^pleads for him by
virtue of his human nature, ' which we ought always
to respect.' He speaks also eloquently of the Great
Republic, which is limited by no country, and which
contains the whole human race. ' We have the universe
for our country.' (8.) He says, speaking of the games
at the circus, ' Man, that sacred thing to man, is killed
for our pleasure.' (9.) Thus we see that the idea of
humanity shone at the decline of the old world, like the
rays that announce the dawn of a new day. Cicero had
already inculcated what he called the love of mankind.
Plutarch invokes that divinity which is neither bar-
barian nor Greek, but the Supreme Intelligence that,
under diverse names, presides over the destiny of na-
tions. Seneca, as well as the younger Pliny and Plu-
tarch, conceived a high notion of marriage. The latter,
in his Conjugal Precept^ requires that the wife's chastity
should accompany her even in her husband's arms ;
that she be gentle, amiable, pure, yet sacrificing to the
graces ; ornamented, not with diamonds, but with
virtue, and seeking the harmony that results from a
perfect union, more than we seek the harmony of music.
It is strange to find this new ideal presenting itself to
the eye of these illustrious pagans, as it were a glimpse
of blue sky breaking through thick clouds. But Chris-
tianity was in the air, exercising an indirect influence
beyond the limits even of its indefatigable missionaries.
These noble outbursts, that raised expiring Paganism
above itself, were marred by heterogeneous elements.
This same Seneca, who seems at moments to utter words
that sound like an anticipation of Christianity, inces-
santly relapses into all the errors of Stoic pantheism.
He declares God to be inseparable from Nature, and
goes the length of divinizing the sun. He says the soul
is but a compound of elements, and virtue but an idea.

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 181

He teaches that in the intelligence resides the sovereign
good. Thus the wicked man and the man without intelli-
gence are equal in Seneca's eyes. He admits no moral
liberty. Philosophy, he says, has no power to reform our
natural character. This fine and frequently elevated
moralist proposes as highest ideal the absolute indiffer-
ence of the sage, who from the cold heights of reason
casts a look of pity on all creatures, beginning with Jupi-
ter, above whom he does not hesitate to place himself, for
^ he admires only himself.' Most certainly a system of
philosophy containing such anomalies could exercise no
salutary influence ; nor do we find it difficult to compre-
hend how it was that Nero could be the pupil of Seneca.
Epictetus, who lived shortly after him, professed an
equally contradictory philosophy, although his life was
more in harmony with his doctrine. A vast number
of most admirable maxims might be quoted from the
Enchiridion^ a manual edited by his disciples, and con-
taining a summary of his teachings. ' We should only
consult the oracles,' says Epictetus, ^when neither
reason nor conscience speaks plainly. Conscience de-
mands that we shall be as faithful to our moral charac-
ter when alone, as when we are in the presence of wit-
nesses. No sophism can absolve us from this fidelity ;
no pretext that we are labouring for the good of others
can justify us in yielding ourselves up to ambition, — it
is our morality that is the true good of others.' Epic-
tetus recommends chastity, forgiveness of injuries, the
renouncing of all vain-glory, and enjoins a certain
humility, not without analogy to Christian humility.
Thus he says, ' He who speaks ill of me, would, if he
knew me thoroughly, be justified in addressing me in
words still stronger. The true sage neither blames nor
praises any man, complains of no man ; nor does he
speak of himself as if he were anything.' It is evident
that the spirit of renovation had breathed on Epictetus,

182 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

and that he also had, in some measure, a foretaste of
Christianity. Still, neither does he escape the fatal in-
fluence of Stoicism. As long as he speaks of our duties
in general, we agree with him ; but when he explains
what he understands by duty, our agreement ceases.
His great principle is, that man should only value what
is really his — that is to say, his reason ; since neither
external goods nor the body are really ours. If we
penetrate ourselves with this truth, we shall be secure
from suffering ; for we shall look on misfortune, sick-
ness, and even death, as not concerning us. Thus we
attain to philosophic insensibility. As it is especially
important that we should not suffer ourselves to be
troubled by what is external, we should not allow our-
selves to be moved by the sufferings or wickedness of
our neighbours. Epictetus ranks the wife and children
of the philosopher amongst things external to him. We
can now judge the distance that separates his morality
from that of Christianity. It is, in short, a hard, in-
operative morality — a morality of abstention. His last
word is. Endure and abstain, — 'Avé'xpv koX airkyov. We
shall find the same ethical imperfection in Marcus Aure-
lius, when, in the history of the second century, we come
to the study of this virtuous and persecuting Emperor.
If Stoics and Epicureans quietly resigned themselves
to the ruin of Greco-Roman Paganism ; if this resigna-
tion, variously understood, was made the first principle
of their philosophy, there were noble hearts who re-
fused to accept this severe sentence pronounced by the
ancient world upon itself They appealed against it,
and, like a chosen band who, when others fly, endeavour
to rally their comrades round their colours, they reacted
with all their might against the general tendency of the
age. Finding in none of the cotemporary philosophical
schools the elements of religious restoration, they at-
tached themselves to the system which was the highest

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 183

expression of Hellenism, Platonic idealism, the purest
glory of the past. Plutarch is the representative of
this class of minds. He left behind him no new doc-
trine, but contented himself with giving special promi-
nence to certain points of Platonism. In this way he
gave a more rigid formula to dualism, and deepened the
abyss between the supreme God and creation. Ori-
ental influence is very decided in him, and he partook
largely of the syncretism of his time. The religious
restoration that he laboured to effect was only appa-
rent, and served but to prepare the way for Neo-Pla-
tonism. We find him constantly led away by the
current he strove to stem. If he turned towards the
past, it was that the actual condition of the world did
not satisfy him ; and this we may regard as a mode of
aspiration towards the future. Besides, he carried with
him, in his sympathy with the past, all the preoccupa-
tions, all the moral and intellectual complications, of a
man of his own time.

Plutarch desired the restoration of antiquity, the
memorials of which he strove to perpetuate. He raised
to it a grand monument in his Lives of Illustrious Men,
a work which is his own chief title to glory. Herodo-
tus, who narrated, as Homer sang, without philoso-
phical preoccupation and without calculation, painted
in true colours the golden age of Greek polytheism. Plu-
tarch, who at any cost desired the revival of idealism,
wrote a treatise for the express purpose of weakening
the testimony of the outspoken historian, and entitled it,
' On the Malignity of Herodotus.' At the same time,
he combats with a tinge of bitterness both Stoicism
and Epicureanism, the natural enemies of idealism, and
extols the Pythagorean school, which he very properly
regarded as the precursor of Platonism. Dominated
by the same preoccupation, he justifies all the religious
institutions of ancient Greece, and consecrated a whole

1 84 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANIS:\I.

treatise to the oracles of the pythonesses, lamenting
the refinement of the over-fastidious, enervated Greeks,
who rejected them on account of the inelegance of their
language. In his Treatise upon Superstition he argues
against incredulity and fanaticism, the two extremes
between which his age oscillated, and endeavours to
lead his cotemporaries back to that serene faith which
characterized the infancy of mankind. But a feeble,
sceptical generation cannot be recast in the mould of
infancy. Plutarch is himself a proof of this. In vain
he endeavours to glorify the old religion ; he feels it is
disappearing, and laments it with eloquent sorrow. He
himself no longer believes in it, — at least does not
admit it under the old form ; and maintains that its
fundamental creeds are to be found in all religions. In
his work on Isis and Osiris he labours to prove the
identity of the Egyptian and Greek myths. It would
be impossible to ignore more completely the true
genius of Hellenism. Sometimes he falls into purely
physical explanations, — as, for instance, when, in the
treatise just cited, he says that Osiris and Bacchus are
the personifications of the humid element in nature ;
on other occasions he rises to a degree of pure idealism
unknown to ancient mythology, as in his admirable
work upon the inscription of the temple of Delphi.

If Plutarch failed in his work of restoration, no
author of his time surpasses him in keen perception of
the new ideal which, by a singular coincidence, the
pagan world had foregleams of, at the moment when it
was about to be both realized and surpassed. ' Let us
beware,' says Plutarch, in his treatise on Isis and
Osiris^ ' of confounding the Divinity with His manifesta-
tions. This would be to take the anchor and sails of a
ship for the pilot who conducts it.' Upon the frontis-
piece of a temple of Delphi was engraved the word, EZ,
Thou art. Plutarch sees in this the real name of God.

THE GRECO- ROMAN WORLD. 185

' He alone exists : existence does not belong to us,
creatures of a day, placed between birth and death.
As well try to arrest the running stream as to arrest
our fugitive existence. He only really is who is eter-
nal, unengendered, and not subject to change.' The
idea of plurality is inconsistent with the Divinity. The
Divine Being must be one, alone, inasmuch as He is
the essential unity. ^Let us awake,' adds Plutarch;
' we have dreamt enough. Let us no longer confound
the work with the workman.' The question of divine
justice is treated in a most elevated manner by Plu-
tarch, in a treatise upon 'the Tardy Chastisement of
the Gods.' The philosopher almost rises to the Chris-
tian notion of probation : punishment, according to
him, has almost invariably moral amelioration for its
aim. ' If the children of the wicked are punished, if the
penalty of a crime weighs upon a whole race, it is that
the race is really a moral being, inseparable from its
head and principle ; not only brought into existence by
him, but in a certain sense made of his substance : thus
he is punished in his race.' Here we find the great
problem of human solidarity handled with singular
profundity. In this same treatise Plutarch unfolds, in
magnificent imagery, his faith in immortalit}^, alloyed
unfortunately by the vagueness and incoherency of his
views of the future life. ' God,' he says, ' develops and
cultivates immortal souls in frail and mortal bodies,
like those women who keep the gardens of Adonis in
fragile vases.' Unfortunately, dualism leavens the whole
of this noble philosophy, which reads like a distant and
sublime echo of Platonism. But there is in it also a
deep sense of the interval that separates the present
world from the Divinity ; and this awakens in Plutarch
the corresponding want of mediation. Hence the doc-
trine of demons, or intermediary divinities, destined to
fill the void between men and the Most High God.

186 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

Demons, according to Plutarch, are placed between
gods and men to establish a certain communion be-
tween them. This essentiall}^ Oriental idea, at a later
period, gave birth to Neo-Platonic emanationism and to
Gnosticism. It rested on an erroneous principle, but
with it was mixed up a true feeling of the necessity of
a mediation to restore harmony between earth and
heaven. In fine, Plutarch's system comprehends all
the best elements of Hellenism, — all its aspirations, but
likewise all its defects.

No philosophy had power to save Antiquity. Philo-
sophy, in its highest representatives, was able to a cer-
tain degree to foreshadow the deliverance, and even
this in a very incomplete manner ; but it was powerless
to procure it. Its powerlessness proceeded still more
from moral than from intellectual causes. It wanted
sincerity. No philosopher had the courage to speak
openly his whole thought. They all professed to have
some secret doctrine which they only confided to a few
initiated disciples ; but in public they bowed down be-
fore the gods, which in private they denied. ' I believe,'
says Cicero, whose real thought we know, ' that we are
bound to scrupulously respect religious ceremonies and
public worship.' Seneca does not hesitate to declare
that the wise man ought to observe the usages of popular
religion, ' not in order to render himself agreeable to the
gods, but to conform himself to the laws.' Saint Augus-
tine justly stigmatizes this conduct. ' This man,' he
says, ' whom philosophy enfranchised, under pretext of
being an illustrious senator of Rome, practises what he
rejects, does what he condemns, and adores what he
believes wrong ; acting as an actor, not on the stage,
but in the temple of the gods ; the more guilty in his
duplicity, because the people believed him serious ; and
whereas upon the stage he would have amused them,
at the foot of the altar he led them astray and deceived

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 187

them.' But what above all was fatal to the philosophers
of the time, was the charge m.ade against them by the
masses, and which Seneca thus expresses : ' You speak
in one sense and you act in another : Aliter loqueris^
aliter vivis. You do not yourselves act what you pre-
scribe.' Seneca tells us the jests of the people, who
ironically asked this eloquent eulogist of poverty what
he had done with the tons of gold piled up in his cel-
lars. He condemns himself, and with himself all those
theoretical moralists w^ho refuse to touch with their little
finger the burden they would impose on others. ' We
ought,' he says, ' to choose for our guide one whom we
admire more when we see him than when we hear him.'
But it was not ancient philosophy, with its want of sin-
cerity and practical inconsistencies, that could be this
helpful guide. In the moral world, sincerity alone gives
power, — every artifice is a sign of weakness. The phi-
losophers themselves were conscious of their impotence.
' Now that we are alone,' says Cicero, ' we are free to
seek truth, without hatred.' The illustrious orator did
not understand, like Saint Paul, and even like Socrates,
that truth demands witnesses who are ready to sufier
all for her ; and that humanity also demands them,
and will not yield but to heroic conviction. Whilst the
Roman philosophers, who met in secret to deliberate
at their ease, congratulated themselves upon their soli-
tude, martyrs, who had no other earthly perspective to
offer than that of tortures, saw themselves surrounded
by ardent disciples. ' There is a charm in those tor-
tures,' says Tertullian. Est illecebra in illis. It was
precisely this austere charm of a courageous, undaunted
faith, that was wanted in the philosophy of the deca-
dence. Its powerlessness becomes especially evident
when it seeks consolation for the great griefs of man-
kind. Cicero and Seneca both tried the power of their
doctrines to assuage the sorrows of afflicted friends.

188 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

They counsel resignation to irreparable evil, the diver-
sion of study, bodily activity, — in other words, oblivion,
which is virtually moral death. Seneca goes the length
of saying to a friend in affliction, ' You have lost the
object of 3^our affection, seek another.' It was in pre-
sence of such comforters that the younger Pliny cried
out, in the midst of cruel anguish, ' Give me some new,
grand, strong consolation, such as I have never heard
nor read. All that I have ever read or heard in my life
rises to memory ; but my grief is too great.'

We believe we are justified in concluding from all
these manifestations, that humanity had arrived at that
point to which it was God's providence to conduct it.
The desire for salvation had become purified and defined,
through the evolutions of the different mythologies, and
the Greco-Roman world had fearful proofs of its own
utter incapacity to satisfy it. Fallen humanity had
never for a single day lost its sense of the want of
pardon and reparation, as was proved by the multitude
of sacrifices, and the smoke of holocausts that rose
from all sides towards heaven, carrying thither a con-
fused prayer for mercy. Since the notion of a holy God
had dawned on the human conscience, this thirst for
pardon and restoration grew more and more urgent —
more pure and more profound. But so far was the
ancient world from being able to satisfy this want, that
it was not even capable of holding for a single moment,
in its purity, the notion of one God, which, notwith-
standing, it seemed to have definitely mastered — it was
incessantly straying back towards dualism. When Plu-
tarch declares that everything here below presents the
combination of two opposite causes, he gives in precise
terms the result of ancient philosophy.

This fundamental error prevented the complete tri-
umph of spiritualism amongst the more cultivated, and
led the masses into the current of materialism. Hence

THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD. 189

the painful contrast between reality and aspirations ;
hence those manifold inconsistencies, those abominations
of pagan society, and those noble efforts of thought to-
wards heights it could not attain ; hence, also, this desire
for the unknown God, with which the world was agitated.

This desire was still, no doubt, vague and undefined.
Although everywhere diffused, and through all classes
of society, yet it smouldered in secret, and only revealed
its presence by occasional outbursts. It did not manifest
itself with power until after the advent of the religion
of Christ ; for great religious renovations are not con-
fined to the satisfaction of the higher wants of humanity,
— they begin by wakening up the consciousness of them.
This explains the rapidity of the first conquests of Chris-
tianity in the midst of Paganism. If the opposition
which it encountered was equal to the sympathies that
hailed it, the reason was that the masses were too pro-
foundly corrupted not to anathematize it. Neverthe-
less, the frightful corruption of the Greco-Roman world
at the moment when the greatest revolution in our his-
tory was being accomplished, cannot prevent us recog-
nising that the work of preparation had then precisely
reached its maturity.

For of human beings there are two kinds : the
one opposes God's plans ; the other realizes them, and
submits to them, and is such as He would have the
entire race to be. The disproportion of numbers is of
little importance. The chosen few who walk in God's
ways, and who draw from events the lesson intended,
often constitute an infinitely small minority. Still, it is
most certain that it is on them God reckons for the
accomplishment of His designs. But the privilege of
the few is here the interest of all : it is in those noble
hearts that the hour strikes for great renovations.

In order to know if the world was prepared eighteen
centuries ago for the reception of Christianity, we must

190 PREPARATION FOR CHRISTIANITY IN PAGANISM.

look elsewhere than at that cruel populace, or at that
base aristocracy, which seems to have forgotten every-
thing in the pleasures of the circus. We must ask our-
selves what an honest, upright heart, thirsting for truth,
must have felt at such a time.

We find in an apocryphal book of the second century
a short passage which, distinguished by its simpli-
city from the general character of the work, paints in
colours so true the feelings which must have animated
all serious minds, that we do not hesitate to quote it.
' From my earliest youth,' says Clement, the hero of the
Clementines, ' I have been disturbed by doubt. I know
not how it got possession of my soul. When I shall be
dead, I have said to myself, shall I be indeed annihilated,
and will all thought of me cease ? It were as well never
to have been born. When was the world created ? What
preceded the world? What will become of it in the
future ? Wherever I went, these thoughts haunted and
tormented me. The more I strove to shake them off, the
more they pursued me. I felt there was a heavenly
guide to lead me to truth, and I sought him from place
to place. Harassed from my youth by these thoughts, I
went from one school of philosophy to another, and found
only opposing principles and contradictions. Here, one
proved to me the immortality of the soul ; there, another
demonstrated that it was mortal. Thus was I driven
from doctrine to doctrine, more wretched than ever, as
though I had been carried through a vortex of contra-
dictory ideas, and I sighed from the depth of my soul.'

To lead humanity through some of its representatives
to breathe forth this sigh, was the great purpose of God
in the work of preparation, which we may now consider
completed in the pagan world ; for, as we have produced
abundant proofs, there was a singular correspondence
between the general state of minds and the aspirations
of those noble spirits.

J U D A [ s M.

The desire for a great religious renovation had reached
such a degree of clearness in the old pagan world, that
its purest organs were enabled to reduce it to a formula.
This result of its history was immense, but would not
alone have sufficed to open the way for Christianity.
Moreover, it is not probable that so notable a progress
could have been accomplished in the pagan world, had
not elements other than those it could itself supply,
entered into the intellectual circulation of that remark-
able period. Under the levelling influence of Roman
power, all national barriers were struck down, and the
various religions of the different peoples allowed free
passage, like waves that flow and blend into each other.
A purer and higher current of ideas is discernible amidst
the vast syncretism of the first century of the Christian
era. The source of this was hidden amongst an obscure,
despised nation, whose extraordinary destiny must now
fix our attention, presenting as it does the directly
divine side of the work of preparation. Here, there is
not only the remote influence of the Divine Spirit,
there is positive revelation. Israel is God's people, —
the people whose education was conducted by the hand
of God, in order that the salvation destined for the
whole human race should first be realized in the land
of Judea. ' Salvation is of the Jews.' It now remains
for us to examine how the work of preparation was

192 JUDAISM.

carried on by means of revelation, after having seen
how it was realized by means of free experience.

Let us first observe that the history of Judaism pro-
ceeds parallel with the history of Paganism — that they
both converge to the same end, the two lines eventually
meeting at the same point. In Paganism, as in Judaism,
we find the human heart totmented by the same wants,
sighing after the same deliverance, except that, whilst
the one was in a measure left without guidance, in order
to bring home to it its powerlessness and misery, the
aspirations of the other were purified and informed by
a higher intelligence. The various phases of the history
of the pagan world we find in the history of Judaism,
with this difference, that revelation disengaged from
each phase the great lesson it contained, which else-
where was alloyed by the corruptions of idolatrous
nations. The history of Judaism is the divine side of
the history of humanity, placed in strong light. Two
principal phases are discernible in the work of prepara-
tion as it proceeded in the pagan world : the first shows
the desire of salvation becoming more defined during the
process of mythological evolution ; the second, by the
utter degradation of ancient society, makes manifest
the necessity of supernatural assistance. These two
periods have their parallels in the history of God's people,
in both of which the religious superiority attaching to
the latter is evident. In. the first, instead of a mytho-
logical evolution, we have a succession of revelations
in constant harmony with the moral condition of the
people. In the second, we see the eclipse of the national
glory of Israel, but not the frightful decomposition that
characterized the decline of imperial Rome. The desire
of salvation, which grew like a wild olive in pagan soil,
sprang up like the true olive in the sacred soil of Judea,
cultivated by the hand of God. In this favoured land,
which was preserved from idolatry, the Saviour was to

JUDAISM. 193

be born. But, owing to the parallelism which we have
noticed in the histories of Judaism and Paganism, we
shall find the general dispositions of humanity, as repre-
sented by its finest intellects, in singular unison with
the glorious event which is the culminating point of its
religious history. We should add, also, that at each
important epoch the Jews were brought into contact
with those nations that played at the time the most
conspicuous part on the theatre of the world. At the
patriarchal period, when the race was confined within
the limits of a family, its tents were pitched in Meso-
potamia. It passed through Egypt before it was de-
finitively constituted under Moses. At a later period
it was carried into Babylon, where it witnessed the great
revolution that took place in Asia in consequence of
the triumph of the Persians. Finally, from the day it
became a portion of Alexander's empire, sharing the
vicissitudes of his different provinces, its isolation
entirely ceased. The fraction of the Jews that emi-
grated to Alexandria entered into direct communication
with the genius of the West. These successive inter-
communications between Judaism and Paganism did
not enrich the religion of the chosen people ; its origi-
nality is too marked to allow us to suspect it lived on
loans ; but they answered the purpose of Divine Provi-
dence in maintaining a certain correlation between
revealed religion and other religions. The first answers
divinely the real wants made manifest by the great
mythologies of the ancient world. But this answer
was not the less a revelation, for being at each period
of history in harmony with the general condition of
humanity.

According to a certain school, the Jews had no other
revelation than what they carried with them in the blood
of their veins as a Semitic race, or than that which they
read on the sands of the desert where their fathers had

N

194 JUDAISM.

encamped. ' They never would have reached the dogma
of divine unity had they not found it in the most
imperious instincts of their minds and hearts. The
desert is monotheist.'^ This assertion is, to say the
least of it, bold, when we bear in mind how frequently,
and often irresistibly, the Jews were tempted into
Canaanitish idolatry ; let us also remember that the
first manifestation of this imperious instinct towards
monotheism, was the construction of the golden calf in
the desert ! For our part, when we compare the moral
and religious condition of the Hebrew people w^ith their
national temperament, so inferior in many respects to
that of other nations ; and, above all, when we place
their sacred books beside those of India and Persia, we
find that no difiiculty, in the rational point of view,
equals that of its history and development, if we reject
the idea of a revelation.

We acknowledge that shade here is singularly blended
with light. But a great portion of the objections vanish
as soon as we admit the idea of progression in divine re-
velation,— speaking to man in his infancy the language
of infancy, and leading him on gradually and by degrees
up to luminous heights.

We cannot sufficiently admire the exact correspond-
ence established by God between the dispositions of
those who received revelation and revelation itself In
revelation, as in conversion, grace and liberty are united
by a mysterious link. But, as we have already said,
this correspondence between God and man was realized
upon a grand scale in the general history of religions,
as we find it in the relations of Judaism to Paganism.
There is nothing in Judaic revelation which does not
answer wants made manifest by the ancient mytho-
logies. To complain of the special character it was
invested with, is in reality to complain of the aspira-

^ Renan, Histoire des Langues Sémitiques.

JUDAISM. 195

tions of humanity; for, in the Mosaic economy, God
confined Himself to doing perfectly what the fallen
race vainly attempted in their false religions. Paganism
is the religion of the time of preparation altered and
disfigured ; whilst Judaism is this same religion puri-
fied by God. In fact, the problem resolved by the
second had been already propounded by the first.

We have sketched the history of ancient religions :
it is therefore unnecessary to revert to them, further
than to ask ourselves what was their divine base. Let
us analyze their last residuum in order to seize what
they contained of true and legitimate. All those reli-
gions reveal the consciousness man had of his misery,
and his sense of the necessity of reparation. This feel-
ing was at its birth falsified by the adoration of Nature.
Man attributes his misery to a malevolent power from
which he cannot escape ; and confounding one of the
manifestations of good with absolute good, he demands
from the sun and spring, as from benign deities, relief
from his misery. But his religious sentiment is not satis-
fied with this purely naturalistic mythology. He is
perpetually tempted by his anthropomorphism to exalt
his gods higher than his mythological conceptions per-
mit him. It is a salvation higher and purer than the
return of the fine season that he thirsts for, and ills far
graver than those of winter and its sterility that he
dreads. We always err when we deal with man as with
an exclusively logical being, and endeavour to square
his many-sided undulating nature with one invariable
defined system. All ancient forms of worship are based
on four principal institutions, which are, as it were, the
four columns of the religious edifice that sheltered
humanity up to the advent of Jesus Christ. These four
institutions are — Sacrifice ; the Priesthood ; the Sanc-
tuary, or sacred place for adoration ; Religious Festi-
vals, or periods consecrated to adoration. There was

196 JUDAISM.

110 religion without its altars, priests, temples, and holi-
days. The same idea we trace in all these institutions,
and it is the same precisely which God placed at the
basis of Judaism.

Sacrifice is an offering to the higher powers. Man
recognises the claims of the Divinity upon him, and too
frequently has to acknowledge his own shortcomings,
which demand reparation on his part. Accordingly, he
offers what is most precious to him, what costs him
most. When drawing nigh to the altar, he experiences
a mixture of fear and hope. He fears Him whom he
would appease ; but still believes he can appease Him :
if not, he would not repeat an attempt he knew to be
useless. This same mixture of fear and hope is also
discernible in the institution of the priesthood, which
was intended as a mediation between man and God.
It implies in the former a secret terror, preventing his
free access to his Creator, but which does not entirely
shut him out from all communication with Him. He
accordingly chooses the worthiest of his fellow-men, fre-
quently those of highest rank, rendered venerable by
the diadem or crown of w^hite hairs, that they may in
his name consult Heaven, report its answer, and pre-
sent to the gods the homage of earth. The same mixed
sentiments he experiences with regard to the world he
inhabits. He considers it profaned and sullied, and
unworthy of being the habitation of divinity : he there-
fore seeks an exceptional place — a dwelling worthy of
His presence ; hence the construction of temples.

He also sets apart certain days, consecrated above
the rest, and devoted to worship, for the reason that he
considers his ordinary life impure ; nevertheless he does
not believe he is absolutely rejected by the gods, since
he has fixed on times and places when he dares venture
to approach them. Thus the religion of the ancient
world expressed by significant symbols the situation of

JUDAISM. 197

humanity since the fall : it felt itself degraded, but not
hopelessly lost. This double sentiment is plainly shown
by these four great religious institutions, which all rest
on the distinction between the profane and sacred ; that
is to say, upon the setting apart of certain objects, cer-
tain localities, certain days, and certain persons in
honour of the Divinity. Now this is precisely the fun-
damental idea of Judaism. What is Judaism, if it does
not consist in the setting apart of a certain portion of
humanity, to offer, in the holy place at specified periods,
sacrifices to the Divinity ? Thus we see there is nothing
arbitrary or singular in the institutions of the chosen
people, since we find their equivalent in all the religions
of the ancient world. They were, in short, institutions
suited to the religious dispensation intended to com-
plete the work of preparation, and were based on the
real wants of the human heart during the time inter-
vening between the fall and the redemption. This mix-
ture of fear and hope, which was expressed by the
institution of the priesthood and of sacrifice, as by the
erection of sanctuaries and the appointment of religious
festivals, was the result of the real situation of a ruined
race destined to salvation, and was wrought out by
God. We are not, then, to be surprised that He should
accept what He Himself produced, and that in the
religious constitution of Judaism He should vindicate
this universal sentiment. The fundamental analogy
between the religion of the Jews and what is really
essential in other religions, far from diminishing the
importance of its mission, greatly enhances it ; for
Paganism seriously endangered, and often entirely ob-
scured, this essential and universal religious sentiment.
The principle of the religions of Nature radically trans-
formed it ; and had it been exclusively committed to
them, it w^ould have died out. It was, therefore, of
vital importance that it should be disengaged from all

198 JUDAISM.

those impure elements, and fostered among a people
directly under the guidance of God.

Let us consider for a moment what became in the
East and West of these four great religious institutions
of the old world, under the pernicious influence of
Paganism. The worship of Nature, we see, deteriorates
the religious sentiment in all its manifestations. The
temple becomes gradually the symbolical representation
of this multiform divinity, comprehending heaven and
earth : it figures the universe. Thus the Egyptian
temple, with its azure roof, recalled the star-bespangled
sky ; its columns, wound round with vegetable orna-
ments, appeared to bear the edifice of the world. Festi-
vals were appointed to celebrate the principal phases of
the life of Nature : the succession of seasons, sterility or
fertility, the bursting forth of vegetation, or the mourn-
ing of earth. The festivals of Atys and Adonis do not
get beyond this materialistic symbolism. Nor is the
priesthood less degraded : the priest, mediator between
heaven and earth, is degraded to the level of a mere
astrologer or magician. Revelation is distorted into a
mere manifestation of the hidden laws of Nature : the
priest endeavours to surprise the secret of Nature in the
motions of the stars, or in the entrails of animals. He
tries by magic to master the mysterious forces of earth,
and falls into charlatanism, of which he is himself the
first dupe. He derives his dignity, not from moral
superiority, or from the manifest choice of the divinity,
but from a physical connection with it. Thus the caste of
Hindoo priests pretended that they issued from the head
of Brahma. The character of sacrifice was also altered.
It no longer symbolized a moral offering — a painful but
salutary return to virtue and to God : it was but an at-
tempt to appease a blind, malevolent power, to obtain his
favour by flattering his supposed tastes, in the immolation
of animals believed to have a kind of analogy with him.

JUDAISM. 199

The degradation of those four great religious institu-
tions was less remarkable in the West than in the East,
owing to the predominance of humanism over natural-
ism. In Greece, temples were considered less as sym-
bols of the universe than as sacred places, the pure
abode of the Divinity. Festivals were rather celebra-
tions of the various phases of the lives of the gods than
of those of Nature, and bore the human and historic
character of the Hellenic religion : they often assumed
a thoroughly dramatic character. Sacrifices, especially
at Delphi, rose to the height of a moral idea, and were
supposed to exercise a purifying action. The priest-
hood was free from the trammels of caste, and was
more free and more human than the Oriental priesthood,
and superior to it — attaching more importance to the
personal superiority of the individual invested. All the
serious errors of Hellenic Paganism are palpable in its re-
ligious institutions. The aesthetic passion of the Greeks
exercised a fatal influence upon their religion, which
became frivolous and external — a spectacle to delight
the eyes, rather than a religious rite. The veil of sym-
bols was woven in such dazzling purple, and decked by
their great artists with ornaments so attractive, that the
people felt no desire to lift it, in order to seek behind
for the thing signified. Thus we see that neither the
pagan West or East was able to preserve intact the
deposit of these holy sentiments of humanity, which
constitute its capacity for salvation. It was therefore
necessary that God Himself should watch over them,
and commit their guardianship to a nation preserved by
Himself from all profane contact. Transplanted to a
monotheistic soil, these sentiments, and their corre-
sponding institutions, were developed under normal con-
ditions. This hastened the consummation of the work
of preparation.

The four great religious institutions which charac-

200 JUDAISM.

terized religion during the preparatory dispensation,
were closely connected, in Judaism, with a fact
which preceded them, and which contained them
in germ, — that is to say, the election of the people of
Israel.

We find this election sanctions the general fact of
the priesthood, and gives to it a more extensive appli-
cation in the consecration of a whole people to God.
But inasmuch as the God of the Old Testament differs
from pagan divinities, so the election of Israel had alto-
gether a special character. Most assuredly there is no
analogy between this God and that deified Nature before
which the East prostrated itself He is not one of the
forces of the organic world, nor, like Brahma, the hidden
universal principle of the world, diffused, like a divine
lotus, through time and space. He is outside of Nature,
and consequently not subject to her power. He pro-
duced Nature by an act of free creation. He is the
supreme God, the only God. ' I am that I am,' He
says. He allows no other God beside Himself Yet He
does not shut Himself up in His solitary majesty. He
takes part in the history of humanity, manifests His
will and gives laws to His people. He is a Father, and
at the same time the Most High God, — a Father combin-
ing severity with goodness, never making concessions
to evil ; with none of that facile indulgence of a divinity
whose favour, it was supposed, might be purchased by
presents ; but neither is He a Moloch, thirsting after
tears and blood. With Him we ascend the summits of
the moral world. He is the holy God, whose eyes are
too pure to see iniquity.^ This Judaic monotheism is
essentially ijioral. At the first bound it reached heights

^ We should bear in mind the importance of the name of Jehovah^ which
is very different from that of Elohirn. Whilst the second designates the God
whose power is manifested through nature, and which does not carry us
much above the general notion of divinity, the first signifies the God who
reveals Himself and manifests Himself in the religious history of humanity

JUDAISM. 201

which Greece, at the moment of her fullest development,
could only catch glimpses of, without being ever able to
keep permanently, and without being able to shake off
entirely the yoke of polytheism. We cannot conceive
how it was possible for such a notion of the Divinity to
have been formed by merely natural means in the midst
of a small Semitic tribe, of which it has been said,
' compared with the Indo-European race, they represent
an inferior combination of human nature.'^ Of all the
miracles contained in the books of the Old Testament,
the most amazing appears to us to be the first word of
Genesis — ' In the beginning God made heaven and
earth.' The world of mind is thus mastered at the very
outset, and the formidable fascination of dualism over-
come. The problem left unsolved in the Yedas and the
Avesta, by sacerdotal Egypt and by philosophic Greece,
is sovereignly solved for the conscience. Is it possible
to doubt that this pure light, appearing thus in the
midst of thick darkness, came direct from heaven ?
God must have unveiled His face to man, who had but
impure idols before his eyes, else how could he have
reproduced those august features we find in the Old
Testament? Without revelation, monotheism was im-
possible.

Consecration to the holy God implied holiness. Con-
nection with Him does not mean that physical connec-
tion which was at the root of the sacerdotal system of
the religions of Nature. The chosen people, who were
a kind of sacerdotal caste in the midst of humanity, did
not owe this privilege to a purely external descent from
the Divinity, like the Brahmans of India. It was alto-
gether a moral relation : their exceptional dignity was

by personal intervention. Jehovah is the God of Israel, because He makes
Himself known to His people as the God of revelation (Eph. iii. 6). These
different names of God in the Pentateuch have given rise to one of the pro-
blems of criticism which has excited the greatest division.
^ Renan.

202

JUDAISM.

based upon the exceptional holiness of their ancestors.
A great act of faith and obedience explains their
election.

Abraham is the father of a privileged race, because
he is the father of believers ; and the privilege obtained
by holiness is preserved by holiness. Israel is the priest
of Jehovah, because he is united to Him by the sacred
ties of love and submission. In Judaism there is no
divorce between devotion and moral life. Devotion, or
normal piety, is moral life in all its intensity.

Nevertheless, Judaism was not given as a perfect
religion. Whatever may have been its superiority
over surrounding forms of worship, it was notwith-
standing a provisional form only. The consciousness
that it was a preparatory, and not a definitive dis-
pensation, is evident throughout. It points to an
end beyond itself, suggests a grander thought than
any in itself; its glory precisely consisting in its con-
stant looking forward to a glorious future, which was
destined to surpass it. An immense hope permeates
its institutions, its sacred books, its history, — a hope
not confined to itself, but the universal hope of man.
The benediction promised it is no other than the ad-
vent of the Divine Restorer, who should build up again
the ruins accumulated by the fall, — above all, the most
dilapidated of those ruins, human nature, which had
become so miserably degraded, and in which there now
dimly shone but a few defaced features of the Maker's
image. What was elsewhere but a vague expectation,
a confused aspiration, was in Judaism a firm hope, dis-
engaging itself more and more from the gross wrappings
that environed it. Faith in the most holy God, and
the expectation of the Messiah, constitute the whole of
the ancient covenant. The idea of the Messiah is as
essential a portion of it as is monotheism. Jehovah is
not only the God of holiness ; He is likewise the God

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 203

whose will is to save the world by the Messiah, offspring
of the seed of Abraham. He not only gives a law, the
reflex of His holiness ; He gives also a promise. The
whole of Judaism is based upon the law and the promise
as upon two pillars. The law reveals the One Holy
God : prophecy announces and foreshadows the Re-
deemer. Both revelations unite in concert to develope
the desire of salvation. The law, or the revelation of
the holy God, renders powerfully prominent the state of
sin and corruption, and fosters this disquietude and
salutary fear, which make the heart sigh for deliver-
ance. Thus was all combined to produce in the hearts
of the people of Israel those precious dispositions which
it was the special mission of the preparatory dispensa-
tion to develope, and which were adulterated and effaced
in Paganism.^

PERIOD OF FORMATION.

The vocation of Abraham embodies this alliance of
the law and the prophecy, of monotheism and the hope
of the Messiah, which traverses the whole history of Ju-
daism. The holy and jealous God revealed Himself to
him both by a command and a promise. ' Get thee out
of thy country, and from thy kindred ; ' this is the com-
mand. ' In thee shall all families of the earth be
blessed ; ' this was the promise. God is a holy God,
who alone should be adored and served. Hence the
necessity of the painful separation from pagan huma-
nity as the sole means of preserving monotheism.

^ M. Bunsen, in his highly interesting work, Gott in der Geschichte, p.
138, reduces the mission of the Jews to the proclamation of two truths :
the unity of the human race, and the gradual triumph of good in huma-
nity. This second truth he presents in a too general manner. It was in-
separable from faith in the Messiah, and was especially connected with the
idea of pardon, with the desire for salvation. This aspect of the question
has been too much overlooked by the learned author, who knows so well
how to sketch with a few quiet, vigorous Unes, the grand figures of the
theocracy.

204 JUDAISM.

But this election God made in the interest of all : the
privilege was a ministry and a priesthood in favour of
the whole human race destined to be saved. Hence
the promise, — that precious inheritance which the de-
scendants of Abraham handed down from generation to
generation. The whole law, as well as the prophecy,
with all its rich developments, are contained in germ
in those two words. Already, under its first form, the
law demonstrates the condemnation of fallen man : it
proclaims, by the fact of the necessity of the separation,
the generality of the corruption, at the same time that
it daily brings home their moral impotency to those
who receive it in an earnest spirit, and who strive to dedi-
cate themselves unreservedly to God. Already, also,
the promise, although limited to terrestrial and inferior
blessings, consoles and strengthens the contrite broken
heart. Thus the elementary law, as well as the ele-
mentary prophecy, speaks of condemnation and pardon.
The confused, indistinct hint implied by the ancient
sacerdotal institutions is now clearly enunciated, and
Judaism at its first stage is presented to us as the
divine commentary which gives the profound meaning
of the most characteristic institutions of antiquity.

We shall rapidly pass over the patriarchal period,
which already foreshadows the destiny of Israel. The
humble submission of the patriarchs to God was as a
memorial to their descendants that the election of
Israel was based on sanctity. Their wandering life,
without any fixed dwelling-place, was emblematic of
that hope which, in order to live more completely in
the future, never folds its wings, and refuses to attach
itself to earth. It was fit that these faithful men,
dwelling under tents and ever marching towards a
'better country,' should be the ancestors of the race
to whom the promise was given. Circumcision, the
only positive institution of Judaism, symbolized both

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 205

the law and the promise, and commemorated the privi-
lege of the chosen family, while at the same time it
prefigm^ed the circumcision of the heart. The office of
priest belonged by right to the father of the family.
Sacrifice was offered on simple altars of stone. Reve-
lation had an external and frequently material charac-
ter, corresponding to a lower stage of human develop-
ment. In the history of the patriarchs, Divinity mani-
fests His power in an entirely simple and elementary
manner. He reveals Himself immediately by miracle
or prophecy, without the intervention of man. The
miracle or prophecy proceed directly from God. Later
on, it is otherwise ; divine power assimilating man,
and making use of him as its organ, communicating
itself to him as an internal and spiritual gift. But at
the patriarchal period it acts externally. The most
frequent form revelation then assumed, was that of a
vision or dream ; sometimes also as a tangible manifes-
tation, such as was the angel of the Eternal, which has
been erroneously considered as a kind of intermittent
incarnation of the Son of God.

Following the patriarchal period, we distinguish two
great epochs in the history of Judaism. In the first, it
is definitively constituted, receiving its institutions from
God through the medium of Moses. In the second, a
cycle of sublime revelations, throwing vivid light upon
the future, is unfolded before their eyes. The first
period is characterized by the predominance of the
legal element ; the second, by the predominance of the
prophetic element ; though neither was ever altogether
absent. It was important that they should interpene-
trate each other, in order that Judaism should fulfil its
vocation by continuing to develope simultaneously in
man the consciousness of his condemnation and the
hope of his salvation.

The descendants of Abraham had become a numerous

206 JUDAISM.

people in Egypt. We know their trials, their painful
toil under the lash of the taskmaster, and their mar-
vellous deliverance. It was in the desert, in which the
Israelites found refuge against their persecutors, and in
which they became consolidated as a nation, that they
received the principal revelations which stamped their
whole national life. The Decalogue, that contains not
only the moral law, as has been asserted, but which, by
instituting the Sabbath, likewise consecrates the cere-
monial law, embodies the whole Mosaic dispensation.
Like the patriarchal economy, it is based upon the
revelation of holiness ; but this holiness is laid down
with far greater clearness in these precise command-
ments, which define evil and prescribe virtue. This
clearness is also more awe-inspiring. From the heights
of Sinai issue forth thunders and lightnings. Each
commandment is sanctioned by a condemnation ; and
the Israelite might read in letters of fire upon every
page of the book of the law, ' Cursed is he who wiU not
observe to do the things contained herein.' Thus did
the law begin by fulfilling that ministration of death, so
profoundly understood by St Paul, which consists in
pursuing human weakness through all its concealments,
in piercing conscience with a sharp-edged dart, and in
leading the fallen creature to the avowal of his misery
by the excess of his grief and fear.

It behoved that the severity of the law should not
at first be too much tempered by the consolations of
prophecy. It was necessary to smite the human con-
science,— to inflict a wound so deep, that there was no
healing for it but at the foot of the cross. This explains
the predominance of the legal element during the
Mosaic period; which, however, did not prevent pro-
phecy crowning the edifice, and circulating through all
its institutions. All the promises, hitherto scattered
and preserved as traditions, were collected. The Jews

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 207

did not comprehend their bearing, but they awoke in
them the presentiment of a great destiny. The con-
quest of the land of Canaan did not exhaust their hopes.
Had they not received from their fathers the mysterious
promise, that in their seed all the nations of the earth
should be blessed ? Besides, their institutions con-
tained an effective revelation, the more powerful from
its encompassing them about on all sides, following
them into all places, and enveloping their whole life by
the multiplicity and detail of its precepts and cere-
monies, and in which the law and the promise appear
closely interwoven.

The four great religious institutions inherent in the
preparatory dispensation, and which we have found ves-
tiges of in all the religions of the East and West, receive
their full significance in the Mosaic religion. They
have both a symbolical and typical value, representing
important truths having a present application, and
being at the same time ' the shadow of good things to
come.' They constitute in their grand features an ad-
mirable type of definitive religion. If we require to be
on our guard against rabbinical subtleties, seeking to
read in the construction of the tabernacle and in sacer-
dotal ornaments the hidden spirit of the Gospel, we
must not less avoid the dry, meagre interpretation of
those who see in Judaism but an ' essentially terrestrial
monotheism.'

Two institutions, the priesthood and sacrifice, play
the chief part in the Mosaic religion, as in all the reli-
gions of antiquity. We have already noticed one reali-
zation of the idea of the priesthood in the election of
the people of Israel. This election, like the special
priesthood, was founded on the twofold idea, that
humanity in its totality dare not approach God, but
might communicate with Him by mediation. Israel,
by virtue of being the chosen people and servant of

208

JUDAISM.

Jehovah, was the priest-people, dedicated to holiness, and
consequently to isolation in the midst of a corrupt and
idolatrous humanity. ' Take heed to thyself,' we read
in the law, ' lest thou make a covenant with the inha-
bitants of the land whither thou goest ; lest it be for a
snare in the midst of thee.' Israel is a people belonging
entirely to God, — directly governed by Him. From God
they held not only their religious ordinances, but the
laws regulating their civil affairs. Everything amongst
them bears a religious character. Every offence is
against God. The constitution of the nation realized
theocracy in its extreme conseqviences. Even the land
belonged to the invisible King. Its first distribution
was to be permanent. No landed property could be
transferred or curtailed. At the end of fifty years, in the
year of the jubilee, all property returned to the family
of the first possessors. The Israelites, in recognition of
this dependence, offered in the tabernacle the tithes of
all the produce of the earth. The first-born of each
family was considered as belonging to the Lord, and was
redeemed by a special offering.

Such a people were truly a priest-people exclusively
dedicated to God's service. A multiplicity of prescrip-
tions were laid down to remind them of this consecra-
tion which implied holiness. The distinction between
clean and unclean animals, founded doubtless upon a
profound symbolism, of which the Zend-Avesta, later
on, gives striking examples ; the various precepts con-
cerning bodily defilement; the ordinances regulating
the purification of the unclean, — all this minute portion
of the Mosaic legislation was intended to keep con-
stantly alive the idea of holiness in the hearts of the
Israelites, and to teach them that the holy God re-
quired internal and external purity on the part of His
worshippers. There is nothing puerile in this ritual :
it applies to every detail of life the great idea that pre-

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 209

sided at the election of Israel, and enforces it in the
most trifling circumstance ; it perpetually recalled the
glorious priesthood with which it was formally invested :
^ If ye will obey My voice, and keep My covenant, ye
shall be unto Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.'

This national priesthood was not sufi&cient for the
purposes of the Divine Legislator. He instituted in the
midst of the priest-people a special priesthood, w^hich
was Judaism in a higher degree ; for it was an election
within an election, a separation in a nation separated.
Aaron's family is set aside for the priest's office, and
the tribe of Levi from among the children of Israel to
do the service of the tabernacle. But this special
priesthood, so far from superseding the general priest-
hood, was considered as a delegation from the latter.
The priests and Lévites replaced the first-born of every
family, and were maintained by the tithes offered by
each Israelite of his possessions. The idea of the priest-
hood is expressed with as much precision as solemnity
in these words, — ' To-morrow the Lord will show who
are His, and who is holy ; and will cause him to come
near unto Him : even him whom He hath chosen will
He cause to come near unto Him.' Thus the priest has
a special relation with God, is chosen by Him, sepa-
rated from His people by a positive revelation, and
whose vocation it is to draw near to the Lord. We
here find the principal features which struck us in the
election of Israel : direct relation with God, separation
from the mass of mankind, and religious consecration.

The priesthood fulfils towards Israel the same part
that Israel fulfilled in relation to the rest of humanity
— concentrating the privileges and obligations of the
chosen people. The high priest, clad in symbolical
garments, typifying his consecration to God, and bear-
ing inscribed on the gold plate of his mitre the words,
Holiness to the Lord, mav be considered as the ideal

o

210 JUDAISM.

Jew, tlie Israelite par excellence^ the living personifi-
cation of his nation ; while, at the same time, the right
possessed by him, alone to enter the holy of holies,
served to remind the people of the gravity of their sins,
which prevented them freely communicating with God.
Though the Israelites felt their transgressions and guilt,
they also felt they were not rejected, since through the
mediation of their priests they were permitted to ap-
proach Jehovah. The function of the priest was chiefly
sacrificial : his principal office was to sprinkle the
blood of the victims on the altar, to burn the burnt-
offerings, and to offer incense on the altar before the
Lord. It was they who sounded the sacred trumpets
at the time of festivals, and who superintended the ob-
servance of the laws of purification. They were estab-
lished judges over the nation, to whom they interpreted
the law. It was required that they should have no
bodily infirmity, that they should be of pure life, and
should keep themselves from all uncleanness, and purify
themselves in a special manner at the time of minister-
ing in the service of the tabernacle. Thus we see that
it is the sacrifice that renders the priesthood necessary ;
for without the co-operation of the priest, sacrifice could
not be offered. The man for whose atonement the sacri-
fice was offered, after having purified himself, brings
a victim — ' a bullock without blemish ; he shall put his
hands upon the head of the burnt-offering, and he shall
kill the bullock before the Lord : the priests shall bring
the blood and sprinkle the blood round about the altar.'
There was a distinction between the peace-offerings
and sin-offerings, though the ceremonies of both were
identical.

The fundamental idea at the basis of the Jewish
sacrifices is that of reparation. The holy God cannot
tolerate iniquity. The relation between God and man
was interrupted by the transgression of His commands.

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 211

The sinner, after his offence, could not present himself
as he had done before. Some act is necessary, that
may lead to a reconciliation. What shall this act be ?
A sacrifice. A sacrifice is an offering — a gift, the chief
feature of which is, that it shall be chosen from what
man has, best, purest, and most precious. The second
characteristic is, that it implies the suffering and death
of the victim. In interpreting the Judaic sacrifice, too
much emphasis has been laid on this latter trait, as if
the sole object of the Israelite had been to appease the
justice of God by means of the blood of bulls and
lambs. We do not deny that this point of view was in
a measure sanctioned by Mosaism, which, being a reve-
lation of the justice and severity of God, necessarily
proclaimed that all disobedience of the law merited
death. The immolation of the victim recalled this ter-
rible sanction of the Decalogue. The Jewish sacrifice
bore the impress of the dispensation to which it be-
longed, like it, was incomplete ; and, with all the
other Mosaic institutions, was at the same time abo-
lished and accomplished by the New Covenant. The
sacrifice on Calvary cannot in all points be likened to
it ; nor have we a right to prejudge the nature of the
second by the character of the first. The Gospel
brought us new tidings of God ; without derogating
from His holiness, it reveals His love as well as His jus-
tice. Besides, the victim sacrificed on the cross was
not identical with the victim offered in the temple.
These differences between the two dispensations ren-
der a complete assimilation between the two sacri-
fices impossible. We must, however, remark, that it
is unjust to the Jewish sacrifice to view it merely as
an expiation by blood. Sufficient importance is not
attached to the fact of the offering itself. The sacrifice
represented the offering of the heart to God. As the
victim was symbolically substituted for the sinner, the

212 JUDAISM.

latter, in immolating it, expressed his desire to give
himself up unreservedly to God — to die to himself.
The sacrifice accordingly represented the holiest act
possible for man to perform ; but the sign evidently ex-
ceeded the thing signified. None possessed the sym-
bolic purity of the victim ; none consecrated himself
entirely to God. Thus did this most important insti-
tution develope in man the consciousness of his insufii-
ciency, and at the same time an aspiration towards a
higher sacrifice. On one side, by the death of the
victim, sacrifice reminded man of the justice of an
offended God; on the other, it fostered the hope of
pardon. Hope sprung from this death : accepted by
God, it became a prophecy of future reconciliation.

We know the importance the Mosaic legislation at-
tached to the erection of a temple. At first portable, as
a tent, it became under Solomon, at the time of Israel's
greatest glory, a majestic edifice. The holy place was
to the Holy Land what the priesthood was to the chosen
people. It was there God manifested His presence in
a special manner. Sacrifices could only be offered on
the altar in the middle of the sanctuary. This one
consecrated spot was the sole refuge for the worship of
the true God on the earth that had been cursed. The
institution of a Sabbath, or day of rest, likewise implies
the idea of condemnation. The ordinary occupations of
life being profane, it was necessary they should be sus-
pended in order to offer solemn worship to God. But
the very possibility of offering this worship implied a
promise of reconciliation. The exceptional benediction
is the forerunner of the permanent benediction. The
time was to come when all men, in all places and at
all times, might offer to God their spiritual sacrifice.

Thus we find that the four great institutions of the
preparatory dispensation, each penetrated by the funda-
mental idea that presided at the election of Israel, were

PERIOD OF FORxMATlOX. 213

completely disengaged by Mosaism from the impure
alloy of the religions of Nature. They constantly and
energetically proclaimed the fall and the promise of
pardon, by recalling the holiness and goodness of God.
By their means the law and the promise circulate
throughout the whole Mosaic system as blood does
through our veins ; and the history of Israel, in which
divine justice manifests itself by severe chastisements,
tempered by miraculous tokens of paternal love, unfolds
itself, from Moses to Samuel, like a magnificent commen-
tary upon the national institutions. The solemn feasts,
the Passover, the Feast of Tabernacles, and the Pente-
cost, converge to the same end. The first commemo-
rated the Exodus from Egypt ; the second, the remark-
able period of the sojourn in the desert ; the third
celebrated the bounty of God, who fills the earth with
abundant harvests.

The great day of atonement, condensing into one great
symbolic teaching all the teachings of the Mosaic sys-
tem, marks with incomparable force the gravity of the
fall and the generality of the corruption. Its first rite
showed that the sanctuary itself needed to be purified,
to hallow it from the uncleanness of the children of
Israel ; whilst the offering of a goat as a sin-offering
for the people, and the sending forth into the wilder-
ness of the scape-goat, bearing all the iniquities and
transgressions of the people upon his head, recalled the
necessity of a ransom.

The second grand period of the Old Testament is that
of the Prophets. Of the two essential elements consti-
tuting Judaism, the element of the promise predomi-
nates over that of the law, without, however, effacing
it. It is a mistake to suppose that the prophet's func-
tion was merely limited to prediction of the future.
His vocation was to keep alive the fundamental thought
underlying the whole of the first covenant ; to keep ever

214

JUDAISM.

before the minds of the people the profound meanmo-
of their election ; to save them by solemn warnings
from sliding into the paths of idolatry, and to maintain
stedfast their faith in their glorious destinies. Prophecy
prevented the institutions of the preparatory dispensa-
tion from becoming petrified, by constantly seizing and
holding before the eyes of the nation their real signiti-
cance. It reacted against formalism, which threatened
to substitute a stupid idolatry of the past, and a me-
chanical, routine piety, in the place of a living aspira-
tion towards the future. Like the angel of the Apoca-
lypse, who in his golden vial received the prayers of
saints, it gathered up into itself the sighs and aspira-
tions of the elect people, at the same time that it an-
nounced the future realization of their desires, thus
rendering them more clear and more ardent. The
prophet was not attached to the sacerdotal order. In-
spiration was the source of his office, and not any posi-
tive institution. The Spirit of God sought him out
sometimes among the shepherds of the desert, as in the
case of Hosea ; sometimes on the steps of the throne, as
in that of Zephaniah, of the royal house of Judah; some-
times among the priests, as with Jeremiah and Ezekiel.
The nature of prophetic inspiration is a subject of
constant debate. Some, with Ewald, see in it nothing
but a vivid perception of the great laws of the moral
world, a profound religious insight, an intuition of the
will of Jehovah. According to this hypothesis, the
prophet is simply a devout Israelite, whose inspiration
is the result of his fervour and moral elevation, and
who, by bold deductions, draws conclusions from the
general laws which he has seen with more or less dis-
tinctness, and thus forecasts the fate of empires. In
this way he announces the chastisement of the wicked,
however powerful, though seated on the throne of
Babylon or Nineveh, and foretells the triumph of the

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 215

just over their enemies, and the benediction of God.
Others, beginning with the Fathers, down to Bossuet,
besides many orthodox moderns, assimilate prophetic
inspiration to a state of ecstasy, in which the moral
life is altogether suspended.

Neither of these points of view can we admit. Al-
though we do not deny the relation subsisting between
inspiration and certain religious aptitudes, we cannot
look on prophecy as a merely natural process : positive
revelations were given which did not spring from the
hearx of man, but came direct from heaven. Neither,
on the other hand, is the prophet a merely passive in-
strument. By thus considering him, we degrade him
to the level of the soothsayer, and assimilate his oracles
to those of the Pythoness. The prophet we regard as
one penetrated with the truths of which he is the organ,
who, while speaking in God's name, yet is it his own
voice we hear, preserving all his special idiosyncrasy,
through whose heart the word of the Lord had passed
before it found an outlet through his lips.

It is precisely this moral harmony, existing between
the prophet and the revelation of which he is the
bearar, that characterizes the progress accomplished
during this period. Revelation has no longer the ex-
terral character it bore at the time of the patriarchs.
God no longer speaks, as it were, outside of man : He
speaks not only to man, but by man, who has become
His living organ. We are thus drawn closer to the
biassed time when humanity and divinity shall be inti-
mately united in the person of the Redeemer.

The symbols used by the prophet are borrowed from
the conditions of the time he lived in ; they vary at the
various epochs. He represents the future under the
colours of the present. There is a profound reason for
this method, which naturally imposed itself upon the
prophet. For assuredly the present should not be

216 JUDAISM.

isolated from the future, which it contains in germ and
prepares. It contains it as the seed contains the full-
grown ear of corn. This truth, which is of universal |
application, is of special importance in the preparatory
dispensation. This dispensation, more than any other,
points to an end beyond itself Each of its periods
weighs in importance according to the proportion with
which it hastens the accomplishment of the designs of
divine love. It is impossible to understand its real sig-
nificance until we have seized its relation to the future.
In order to understand the great law of history, above
all, the law of the government of God, we must show
the future in the present, as it were, enveloped under
cotemporary events. There is, therefore, nothing ar-
bitrary in the method adopted by the prophets. They
gradually drew aside the curtain of the present, \fhich
hid the glorious prospects of Israel and humanity ; but
they did it progressively. Each event widened their
prophetic horizon, because each event in itself tended
effectually to prepare the advent of the Messiah. Thus
prophecy kept pace with history, and advanced with
each new period. 1

It is notorious that the sacred books of the *]ews
contain in their very first pages a promise of salvation
extending far beyond the narrow limits of their national
prejudices. We read that ' the seed of the woman stall
crush the serpent's head.' It is not straining unduly
the vague symbolism of these words, to interpret than
as the general promise of the future triumph to \e
gained by humanity over the power of evil. The pro-
mise made to Abraham was more defined : from his
seed should issue the mysterious Benefactor who was
to restore the whole human race. Universalism from
the first day hovers over Judaism. Thus the theme,
the burden of prophecy, is given. Each new phase of
Jewish histor}^ enriches it. From generation to gener-

PERIOD OF FORMATION. 217

ation the mysterious Benefactor is waited for. Each of
the great reHgious heroes of Israel contributed his part
in preparing His advent. Prophecy attributed to them
the character of the Messiah. They were His precursors,
and types prefiguring Him. But the type in these in-
stances was far inferior to the reality. No man answers
to the portrait traced of the Messiah. Accordingly,
the hopes fixed for a moment on their persons take new
scope towards the future. The idea of the Saviour
becomes more and more spiritualized, more disengaged
from its national envelope. Royalty, made illustrious
by David, and by him celebrated in his ■ noble Psalms,
in which the great hopes of Israel poured themselves
into sublime songs, long appeared a sufficient type of
the Messiah. It was expected that, as heir of David,
He should ascend the throne of Jerusalem ; but none of
his successors, not even Solomon, corresponded to the
great and pure ideal. The moral degradation of the
kings of the chosen people gave new stimulus and a
new field to prophecy. The terrestrial aspect of the
hope becomes more and more effaced. The Deliverer
appears under the image of the servant of the Lord, the
friend of the good, the universal restorer, gathering to-
gether all nations on a renovated earth. We are fa-
miliar with the great ideal drawn by Isaiah in the second
part of his book. Its exact date signifies little. It,
however, goes back to a period preceding the decline.
The great idea of salvation to be wrought out by sor-
row and suffering, is there developed with marvellous
lucidity : we are carried by the prophetic spirit to the
threshold of the Gospel. The sufferings of exile, fore-
seen or actually experienced, paved the way for this im-
portant evolution in the hopes of the Messiah. Univer-
salism, which lies at the root of Judaism, blooms out as
its brightest flower at the moment of its highest develoj)-
ment. All the nations of the earth are included by the

218 JUDAISM.

prophets in the promise of the blessed kingdom of the
Messiah. The earlier prophets seem to have connected
this reign with the return from exile, which event was
paramount to all others in the estimation of their ardent
patriotism ; but the glorious picture they had traced
was not to be realized at that epoch. Hence a new
scope to prophecy. A wider and more distant range is
opened up, in which all the great promises of the past
should be accomplished. Later on we shall see the
development of all those precious germs that were de-
posited under the influence of a salutary humiliation in
the hearts of the people. This progress of prophecy,
corresponding with the development of the destinies of
Israel, should not surprise us, seeing that the Master of
revelation is likewise the Master of history : He directs
both to the same end, and interpenetrates one with the
other, in order that they may each serve as commen-
tary to the other.

We do not overlook the fact that the writings of the
prophets contain very positive special predictions. This
we firmly believe, though they are far less numerous
than is generally supposed. This living organic pro-
phetism, which at each period of history rises, under
the inspiration of the Spirit of God, ever higher in its
spiritual conceptions of the Saviour, has far more value
than could have a simple collection of scattered oracles,
whose sole object had been to point out the signs by
which the Messiah at His advent might be recognised.
Predictions have their value. This we do not contest.
But their importance should not be exaggerated to the
point of supposing that the principal mission of the
prophet was to promulgate them. Judaic prophecy
prepared the way for Christianity, not only through the
minds it enlightened, but through the hearts which it
purified : now severe as the voice that thundered from
Sinai against sin, and now gentle and merciful as an

THE DECLINE OF JUDA'[S:\r. 219

anticipated Gospel, it aroused to its fullest intensity
the desire of salvation, — keeping it alive with vigilant
care, as the Roman priestesses did the sacred fire, and
which it saved from being extinguished beneath the
bushel of external observances. It kept the spirit alive
in the body of Judaism ; recalled the true significance of
its institutions ; and, when necessary, boldly denounced
sin, though concealed under the most specious piety,
amid the splendid pomp of worship of their solemn
festivals, or in the multiplicity of sacrifices, or in the
affected humility of a hypocritical fast. Armed with the
two-edged sword of the word of God, it pierced through
the impenitent heart ; but it was to pour into the bleed-
ing wound the balm of a consoling hope. Under the in-
fluence of prophecy, in its great days, Judaism reached
its culminating point of development. The fundamental
thought that lay at the basis of all its religious institu-
tions it amalgamated with itself Uniting repentance
with hope, it looked to the future, not, as the pagan
world did, with a confused, anxious expectation, based
solely on presentiments, but with a firm faith, built on
positive revelation. The dark days of its degeneracy
reserved to it another severe, and at the same time
precious experience, which was to be added as a last
favour to those with which it had been loaded.

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM.

The external history of Judaism does not come
within the limits of our plan. We have said nothing
of its glory under David and Solomon ; neither shall we
enter into the details of its gradual decline, the signal
for which was given by the disruption of the bond
that had hitherto held together the twelve tribes of
Israel in one organic body. The theocratic people,
heirs of the promise, were henceforth reduced to two
tribes : those of Judah and Benjamin. The ten others,

220 ' JUDAISM.

under kings who were not of the Hneage of David, fell
more and more into idolatry, in spite of the sublime
warnings of their great prophets, through whose voice
God's last appeal was heard. Shalmaneser, king of
Assyria, gave the final blow to the kingdoms of Israel
about the year 720 b.c. He transplanted the majority
of the inhabitants into his own country, and replaced
them by a numerous colony of Assyrians. Mingled
with the residue of the Israelites who had escaped this
compulsory emigration, they formed a new nationality,
composed of heterogeneous elements, and which joined
the worship of idols to the adoration of Jehovah. It
appears, however, that the vanquished soon gained a
moral ascendency over the conquerors ; for the worship
of Jehovah finally prevailed over that of false gods,
though it never regained its primitive purity. The
antipathy between the Jews and Samaritans, so strik-
ingly manifested at the time of the rebuilding of the
temple, became more and more envenomed. We shall
see in the early days of Christianity that time had not
worn down this feeling.

The kingdom of Judah appeared at one moment on
the point of sharing the fate of the kingdom of Israel.
After having borne the Egyptian yoke for several years,
consequent upon their defeat by Pharaoh Necho (609
B.c.), the land was devastated by the armies of Assyria,
in punishment of their constant relapses into idolatry,
until at last a great portion of the nation was carried
away captive by Nebuchadnezzar. Faith in the true
God gained strength in a foreign land. The captives
hung their harps on the banks of the rivers of Babylon,
not only to weep their lost country, but to sing the
praises of the God of their fathers. Patriotism, intensi-
fied by misfortune, brought them back to monotheism.
Accordingly, when, in consequence of the great revolu-
tion that took place in Babylon, resulting from its con-

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 221

quest by the Persians, the Jews returned to their own
country, under the conduct of Esdras and Nehemiah,
they brought back with them an inviolable fidelity to
Jehovah (458 to 434 b.c.). However, they never per-
manently recovered their national independence. Judea,
after the conquests of Alexander, passed, like the rest
of Asia, of which it formed a part, from one domination
to another. From the hands of the Ptolemies it was
transferred into those of the Seleucidae, to return
again under the sceptre of Egypt. The cruel yoke of
Antiochus Epiphanes weighed heavily upon the people
(171 B.c.). His tyranny provoked rebellion. It was then
that the herioc sword of the Maccabees won back the
national independence, the glorious memory of which
cost the nation dear ; for in it they found an eternal
temptation to rebellion against oppressors too powerful
to let go a prey they had once conquered. The Roman
eagle, borne by Pompey, swept over the Holy Land.
Men unworthy of being the successors of the illustrious
champion of national independence, were striving for
the possession of power. By one of these parties Roman
intervention was solicited (63 b.c.). The family of the
Idumean Antipater, which had been mixed up in the
intrigues and intestine struggles of the last descendants
of the Maccabees, purchased the favour and protection
of Rome by their devoted adhesion. Herod the Great,
son of Antipater, ascended the throne of Judea, which,
by the assistance of his invincible allies, had been con-
siderably aggrandized. He maintained the power thus
acquired by baseness and crime, — as clever and success-
ful in his flattery of his protectors as in the terror with
which he inspired his subjects, and as in his unscru-
pulous mode of ridding himself of all rivals (37 b.c.).
On his death the kingdom was for a short time divided
between his three sons. Archelaus, who reigned at Jeru-
salem, having provoked his subjects by his cruelties, was

222 JUDAISM.

dethroned and banished ; and Judea, after being incor-
porated with the province of Syria, received a Roman
procurator. Herod Agrippa II., nephew of Herod the
Great, succeeded, through the favour of the Emperor
Claudius, in uniting once more under his sceptre the
entire possessions of the founder of the dynasty (41
A.D.). But on his death, which took place three years
after, Judea was again governed by Roman procurators.
This subjection kept the nation in a perpetual ferment
of rebellion, ever ready to burst out into open insurrec-
tion. This constant agitation of men's minds tended to
impart a terrestrial and gross character to the national
expectations.

We are all familiar with the astute policy of Rome,
which, however, was frequently compromised by the
venal ambition of its proconsuls. This policy consisted in
abstaining as much as possible from interference with the
religious beliefs and customs of the conquered peoples.
If all that appertained to political administration was
confided to the Roman procurators, who virtually held
the place of kings, the religious administration was en-
tirely left to the Jews. The Sanhedrim, or great coun-
cil of the nation, composed of 70 members — priests,
elders of the synagogues, and scribes — presided over by
the high priest, regulated everything connected with
the cultus, and constituted the supreme tribunal, whose
ofi&ce it was to try all grave offences, such as imposture
or blasphemy. Since the Roman domination, the right
of pronouncing capital punishment, formerly exercised
by the Sanhedrim, had become the prerogative of the
representative of imperial power. The office of high
priest, which had always been immoveable, had become,
since the time of the Herods, the disputed prey of
parties ; it had lost its ancient dignity, and was degraded
to the level of a magistracy to be obtained by intrigue
and flattery.

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 22

o

To complete the description in broad outlines of the
constitution of Judaism at this period, it is necessary
to notice an institution which dates from the return
from exile, and which filled a conspicuous part in the
religious economy of those times — the institution of
the synagogues. The synagogues, or houses of as-
sembly and of prayer, were buildings dedicated to
worship, or at least to that portion of religious ser-
vice which did not need the intervention of priests.
The dispersion of the people had rendered these places
of meeting necessary, which, though they did not replace
the temple, served to keep alive piety and the know-
ledge of the Scriptures amongst Jews in countries re-
mote from Jerusalem. Nothing could be simpler than
the arrangement of these edifices, which were merely
intended for the reading of the Law and the Prophets,
and for prayer. The people assembled in the syna-
gogues on the Sabbath and feast days, when the sacred
books were not only read, but commented on in the
people's vernacular. The superintendence of the cultus,
of discipline, and the care of the poor, was entrusted to
a college of elders, who presided over the synagogue.
We shall enter more fully into the organization of the
synagogue when we come to the examination of the
primitive institutions of the Christian Church. It was
also this college of elders that received the numerous
proselytes who were led by the religious wants of the
time to embrace Judaism. These proselytes were
divided into two categories : the Proselytes of the
Gate, who were subjected to a few general prescrip-
tions sufiicient to mark their rupture with idolatry;
and the Proselytes of Righteousness, who took upon
themselves the obligation of the whole Mosaic law, and
were incorporated into the nation. The latter were
first circumcised, after which the synagogue, by cer-
tain symbolical ablutions, administered a kind of bap-

224 JUDAISM.

tism. The celebration of a sacrifice completed the
ceremony.

We have seen that the scribes, or doctors of the law,
took their seats next the priests in the Sanhedrim.
Their influence at this time rapidly increased, to the
prejudice of that of the priests, which had so long pre-
ponderated. Entrusted with the instruction of youth,
the scribes did not confine themselves to the inculcat-
ing of a sufficient knowledge of the sacred books into
the minds of their pupils, but took upon themselves to
fix their meaning by a tradition, which was not only
preserved but augmented by themselves. Close by the
temple they had schools, which were attended by a
crowded audience. In this way sprang up rabbinical
science, which, by combining a narrow literalism with
the theory of a double meaning, ended in annihilating
the spirit of the revelation they professed to guard.
The predominance of the rabbis in the Great Synagogue,
or Sanhedrim, gave them considerable influence in the
nation. Their whole tendency is summed up in this
precept : ' Plant (by tradition) a hedge round the law ;'
but it was a hedge of thorns they planted, which fatally
choked the divine plant it should have protected.

This preponderance of the scribes is the characteristic
feature of this long period. In place of the prophet
speaking directly in the name of God, and adding a
new page to revelation, we have grammarians analysing
it. In the same way that the great creating period of
Hellenic poetry was followed by that of the Alexandrine
Aristarchuses, satisfying themselves with the classify-
ing of the treasures of ancient literature, and often
burying it beneath their pedantic glossaries, so the
period of the Isaiahs and Jeremiahs is succeeded by
that of the Gamaliels and the doctors of the law. The
worst consequence of this transformation was, that it
gave an exclusively intellectual character to religion,

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 225

reducing it to a system, and in this way cooling the
ardour of piety.

The contact of the Jews with other nations, which was
frequent since the time of their exile ; their numerous
voluntary emigrations after their compulsory emigra-
tion ; the colonies they founded at Babylon, Alexandria,
and in all the great cities of the East and West, where
they began to manifest their aptitude for commerce, —
all these circumstances must be borne in mind in order
to form an accurate estimate of their religious condition
at the beginning of the Christian era. It appears evi-
dent to us that the influence exercised by them was
considerably greater than that which was exercised
upon them. Proselytes quitting Paganism to embrace
Judaism were reckoned by thousands ; whereas Pagan-
ism made no conquests amongst this despised, van-
quished people, who extracted from defeat itself a
deeper hatred of the stranger. It cannot, however, be
denied that a certain number of Jews endeavoured to
amalgamate either the results of Greek philosophy or
Oriental philosophy with the teachings of the Old Tes-
tament. The farther we go from the religious centre of
the nation, the more apparent is this influence ; while,
on the contrary, the nearer we approach Jerusalem, the
more feeble and imperceptible it is.

In the Judaism of the period we are considering, two
very different currents are discernible : the one carrying
in its troubled waters all the national prejudices, and
all errors imported from without. This is the current of
degenerate Judaism, straying farther and farther from
true religious tradition. The second current is that of
normal Judaism, the inheritor of the prophets, which,
taught and purified by all the sad experiences of the
present, turned towards the future a fixed look of sted-
fast hope. The existence of the latter is revealed to us
as a positive fact by those Israelites who, fearing God

p

226 JUDAISM.

and waiting for the Messiah, appear at the threshold of
evangelical history. Naturally, the second was less
obvious than the first, which drew into itself the leaders
of the nation, now that the race of pious kings and
prophets had ceased. Normal Judaism remained in
the shade ; its coming to light at the beginning of
evangelical history reveals to us the last link of a long
chain. The overlooking this fact has led to the mis-
take of connecting the Christian Church with official
Judaism, which, though popular, was nevertheless an
abnormal tendency.

The restoration effected by Esdras and Nehemiah was
a revival of the pure religion of their fathers, unadul-
terated by any foreign influence. It occasioned an
energetic reaction, which led the Jews to break off all
ties, even the dearest and most tender, formed in the
land of exile. Still we cannot overlook the fact, that
contact with Persia must, soon or late, have exercised
a certain action upon such minds as were more pre-
occupied about religious speculation than inclined to
living piety. It would, however, be an error to attri-
bute the Jewish theology of this period to Parsism ; it
may have slightly modified the form, but it added no
new doctrines, though it may have inspired some modi-
fication of the dogma already existing. In this way
angels are made to fill a more and more important part,
and are sometimes raised to the rank of cosmogonie
powers. We have grounds for attributing to the same
influence, combined with Alexandrine Platonism, the
personification of Wisdom, sketched with such admir-
able logic, but not realized, by Jesus Sirach, who has
been erroneously styled the precursor of Saint John.
It was not till a later period that foreign ideas made an
inroad into Judaism.

We recognise three dominant tendencies in the Juda-
ism of the decadence. First, the exclusively national and

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 227

conservative tendency, rigidly keeping guard over tra-
dition, and having Jerusalem for its centre. We have,
next, the tendency which largely underwent the influ-
ence of Oriental theosophy; and finally, the Alexandrine
tendency, related to Platonism, and especially to what
we may call the theosophic side of Platonism. These
two last tendencies, which have a close analogy, alone
claim our attention : the first characterizes itself

It has been said that the tendency imbued with
Oriental theosophy had been reduced to a complete
system long before the time of Christ, and that this
system was no other than the Kabbala, or secret doc-
trine, of the rabbis, which had been constantly elabo
rated and remodelled by them. It is not possible to
determine with certainty this historic problem; the
nature even of the doctrine, and the veil with which it
covers its dogmas, sufficiently explain the obscurity of
its origin. It, however, appears to be proved that
there did exist a secret doctrine in certain Jewish
schools before the Christian era. Probably the funda-
mental ideas which were subsequently embodied in the
Kabbala were already known : these were in all points
similar to those dualistic notions which were then so
universally diffused, like a vast reservoir enriched by
the religions and philosophies of the East, whence all
came to drink, in whom the speculative wants of the
intellect predominated over the religious nature. One
sect of the Jews, which we shall hereafter describe,
maintained in Palestine itself this doctrine of dualism,
which at one moment appeared destined to overrun the
world. If we endeavour to distinguish in the Kabbala
the variable form from the groundwork of ideas, bear-
ing the mark of high antiquity, we shall find there a
system of emanation, tortured by forced interpretations
into an accordance with the letter of the Old Testament.
God is the absolute, invisible substance, made manifest

228 JUDAISM.

by His attributes, not one of which possesses Him ex-
clusively; and from their totality results the Word
(Yerbe), the prototype of man. All things issue forth
from God, and return to Him. Our world is the repre-
sentation of the world of divine attributes, of which
man is the most exalted image. He existed before
his terrestrial birth, and is destined to pass through
the purifications of the metempsychoses. ' Death is a
kiss from God.' This kiss is the union of the soul with
the substance whence it derives its origin. Thus the
world has no real existence, but is the ever-changing
form of the divine thought. Union with the absolute,
by losing individuality, is the extreme term of perfec-
tion. Who does not see in these theories the traces of
that Indian religion whose sole .aspiration was absorp-
tion into Brahma ? Asceticism was the inevitable result
of this system. It is probable that it was at an early
period associated with magic, then so prevalent in the
East ; and we may perhaps attribute to it those
mysterious books which the Hebrew magicians of
Ephesus cast into the flames after they had heard
Saint Paul.^

If we now quit Asia and turn towards Egypt, we
shall find analogous doctrines in Judaism, but deve-
loped by a far finer logic, and arrayed in the brilliant
mantle of Hellenic philosophy. The Jewish emigration
to Alexandria had been considerable ; and having been
constantly encouraged by the Ptolemies, it eventually
formed a nation within a nation. But it was not with
impunity that it fixed itself in this sumptuous thorough-
fare of the ideas of the time, where the East and West
met and amalgamated. Enriched by commerce, re-
spected and cultivated, the Jewish colony removed
with its own hands the religious barrier which should
have separated it from the pagan world. It renounced

i Actsix. 19.

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 229

the language of its fathers, without, however, attaining
a complete mastery of the Greek tongue, the plastic,
delicate construction of which could little adapt itself
to the elementary syntax of the Semitic race. Never-
theless, with new words came new ideas. The Hellenic
intellect, already considerably modified by Oriental in-
fluence, infiltered itself into the Synagogue of Alex-
andria, and by means of a perfect system of allegorical
interpretation, was enabled to accumulate at its ease
the advantages of an apostasy according to the spirit,
and of a fidelity according to the letter. The most
eminent representative of this singular tendency was
the Jew Philo, the cotemporary of Jesus Christ, who
became illustrious throughout the world, after having
obtained from his fellow-citizens the honour of repre-
senting them at Rome in an embassy to the court of
Caligula. He opened the way to the last philosophy
that shed a lustre upon the ruins of Paganism. Philo
is evidently the disciple of Plato, but a disciple who
makes his selection from amongst the master's doc-
trines, and assimilates to himself those most accessible.
This was the Oriental side, which we have already
indicated in Platonism. Philo borrowed from theosophy
its mysticism and asceticism, and sought in the sacred
books of his nation formulas and religious symbols, in
order to justify an attempt which, without such artifice,
might have scandalized his countrymen. He sets out
from the idea that God is the absolute, immutable Being,
— the One eternal and indivisible, alike ineffable and in-
accessible to reason. ' This God,' he says, ' better than
the good itself, simpler than unity, can be contemplated
by none other than Himself We possess no organ by
which to represent Him to our minds. Those who seek
Him in creation find but His shadow.' It is from Himself
that we must receive the revelation of Himself, as He
revealed it to Moses. This absolute ineffable God did

230 JUDAISM.

not create matter, which existed from all eternity. He
gave it order, but not directly ; ' for it is not permitted
the blessed God to enter into contact with matter.' He
organized it by the intermediation of the world of ideas
which is personified in the Logos. Philo explains the
Logos sometimes as the image of God, sometimes as
being multiple and abstract. This reveals the in-
coherency of his ideas upon a point, on which some
have thought they had found in him the inspirer of
primitive Christianity. Philo removes all doubt upon
this subject, when he declares that ' the Logos is the
world of intelligence, and that God is the place filled
with incorporeal Logoi.' God creates, rather orders
matter in a continuous manner, in the same way that
fire necessarily diffuses heat, and snow, cold. This
matter, which was not created by God, is the necessary
element which we find everywhere. From such a sys-
tem of metaphysics moral asceticism necessarily flowed.
Man cannot, as being a mortal, unite himself with God ;
' for it is not permitted for mortal to inhabit with the
Immortal.' But if he has by nature the superior illu-
mination that makes the priest and prophet, he may by
contemplation attain to losing himself in God. Thus
the part allowed liberty is insignificant. Virtue is a
gift of Nature ; those who have not received it at their
birth can only approximate towards it by means of
asceticism. The highest ideal, in short, consists in flying
from self in order 'to rise from the individual mind
into the universal Mind, which is the supreme refuge
of the soul.' Without having exactly formalized the
doctrine of emanation, Philo developed its ultimate con-
sequences. He went further than Plato in his affinity
with the East, and, like India, placed salvation in anni-
hilation and asceticism. It was in vain that he laboured
to exalt the religion of his people by proclaiming them
a people of prophets and seers, and by making the high

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 231

priest the universal priest, immolating victims for the
whole of creation and humanity. He nevertheless,
and notwithstanding his eulogies, sapped the basis of
Mosaicism. He annihilated it by transfiguring it ; and
even in the homage he bestows we can trace his specu-
lative tendencies, which transform profoundly religious
institutions into a cosmogonie system.

We have, in the existence of the Thérapeutes in
Egypt, a striking proof of the influence exercised by
Eastern ideas at this period. According to Philo, who
on account of his ascetic views must have felt a strong
sympathy with them, the Thérapeutes professed, as their
name indicates, to cure the diseases of the soul. Re-
nouncing their possessions, and seeking solitude, they
reserved a hidden sanctuary in their dwellings, where,
removed from all eyes, they performed their devotions.
Prayer, the meditation of the sacred books, which they
interpreted allegorically, and of other writings belong-
ing to their sect, occupied their thoughts. They looked
on temperance ' as the bulwark of the soul,' and sub-
jected themselves to lengthened fasts. They assembled
on the Sabbath days, and heard an exposition of their
doctrine made by one of their elders. Absolute chastity
was held in honour among them. Evidently the Théra-
peutes merely reproduced Indian asceticism : similar
theories produce similar practices.

At this period there were three leading sects in
Judea : the Essenians, Pharisees, and Sadducees. The
first only was a really constituted sect; the other two
having been rather parties than sects. The Essenians
were the Thérapeutes of Judea, equally imbued with Ori-
ental theosophy, but more preoccupied about practice
than about speculation, as behoved the Jews of Pales-
tine. They, too, sought solitude and founded convents,
without, however, interdicting residence in towns to
those amongst them who followed manual arts. Their

232 JUDAISM.

goods were in common. ' The possession of each,' says
Josephus, ' being mixed up with those of the rest, there
existed but one property, belonging equally to all as to
brothers.' They despised marriage, says ^ the same
author, but received the children of others, and trained
them to their own mode of life. The Essenians ener-
getically proclaimed the immortality of the soul, de-
claring the body to be but a prison in which the soul
is shut up and held by a charm, which death dissolves.
In this we recognise Oriental dualism, as we do also in
the practice, followed by the adherents of this sect, of
offering prayers to the sun at the moment of its rising.
They beheld in it the splendid symbol of the luminous
side of the Divinity. Philo leaves no doubt on this
point ; for he says that the Thérapeutes, in all respects
the same as the Essenians, prayed, at sunrise, that
their minds might be clothed with celestial light. At
repasts, which had evidently a religious significance,
the Essenians gathered round a table, after having
purified themselves by numerous lustrations, and clad
themselves in white garments. This repast, which
recalled the feast of the Passover, commemorated
the Exodus from Egypt, except that in this in-
stance Egypt signified, according to dualistic typology,
the body, whose humiliating yoke the soul was called
on to shake off. The Essenians thus found means
of attaching an ultra-spiritual meaning to practices the
most closely connected with the servitude of corporeal
life. They celebrated, like the Thérapeutes, the Sab-
baths and feast days without sacrifices. The cultus
consisted in the reading of the sacred books, and the
celebration of symbolical rites.

Initiations into this sect were accompanied by solemn
ceremonies, and preceded by a severe novitiate. With all
these features before us, it is impossible, notwithstand-
ing assertions to the contrary, not to see in them the

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 233

characteristic signs of Oriental dualism. By its very
nature, Essenianism was saved from contact with official
Judaism. Having no ambition for power, it did not dis-
pute its possession with those who had. Living in the
desert and in obscurity, and holding itself aloof from all
strife and intrigues, it excited no uneasiness.,

But it was far otherwise with the two great parties
that competed for pre-eminence in Jerusalem. The
Pharisees, or Separatists, arrogated to themselves the
character of Jews par excellence. As defenders of the
old constitution, they resisted all concessions to the
stranger; were ardent patriots and sworn enemies of
oppression. They adopted, as a legitimate development
of Judaism, the dogma of the resurrection of the body.
Unfortunately, in their desire to preserve at all cost the
religion of their fathers, they accumulated traditions,
and favoured the growth of formalism. Identifying in
a great measure politics and religion, they made the
latter subordinate to the first. Ambitious of power and
authority, they sought to gain the favour of the people
by all possible means, especially by an ostentatious
piety, that sounded its trumpet when about to perform
any of its rare good works. Thus they fell into the
error of all who, in religion or in morals, place the letter
above the spirit, and invented a subtle casuistry which
benumbed the conscience, while it professed to place it
in strict harmony with the law.

The Sadducees derive their name either from Tsadoc,
the presumed founder of this sect, or from a Hebrew
word signifying justice ; they assuming to themselves
the character of being the just par excellence^ in opposi-
tion to the Pharisees, with whom they present a strik-
ing contrast. The Sadducees rejected all tradition, and
also rejected, as an absurd prejudice, that inflexible
patriotism which refused to treat with the stranger on
any terms. They, on the contrary, were always ready

234 JUDAISM.

for a compromise, provided it secured their repose.
Rich and vohiptuous, it was for form's sake alone they
connected themselves with the national religion ; their
wish was to enjoy the present life, and not to trouble
themselves about the life to come. The Sadducees
were the Epicureans of Jerusalem ; but they were
obliged to act with caution in the presence of the ardent,
fanatical people that surrounded them, whose sym-
pathies more inclined to Pharisaism than to Saddu-
ceeism. These two parties — the party of independence
and that of the foreigner — are to be found in all states in
their decline. In Judea,^ they appear under the forms
appropriate to the nation, which forms, we may say,
were the result of its history ; but they there reveal the
same passions and provoke the same storms which they
do in all countries whose subjection is of recent date.

In the midst of this clash of parties, what had become
of the hope of the Messiah ? It floated above the
stormy waves that dashed against each other ; but not
without undergoing considerable modification from one
tendency or another. The dualistic tendency, which
strove by contemplation and asceticism to fill up the
abyss Judaism created between God and man, had
completely changed the nature of the hope of Israel.
With Philo and the first propagators of Oriental theo-
sophy, this hope was deprived of its moral import, as-
suming in their hands a cosmogonie character. Evil
was assimilated with matter, and salvation made to
depend on the maceration of the body. Still, even this
longing to become merged in God, inherent in the Alex-
andrine doctrine, did not originate in a desire for abso-
lute union with the Divinity, wdiich never seizes the
soul but in order to prepare it for salvation. The hope
of the Messiah, as entertained by the Pharisees and the
people influenced by them, was as ardent as it was
gross. We have proofs of the general expectation of

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 235

the promised deliverance, not only in the frequent in-
surrections of the Jews, but in some apocryphal writings,
in which their highly wrought imaginations endeavoured
to paint in vivid colours the future they expected. We
shall first cite from among these writings a fragment
from those famous Sibylline Books, the mystery of which
has been penetrated by cotemporary science. In these
the dreams of the ancient world deposited their impress.
The Jews of Alexandria were the first who endeavoured
to couch their views of the future in this singular form,
which had the advantage of being accepted and revered
by their cotemporaries. The Sibyl personified in their
eyes the earliest of all prophecies, — the prophecy an-
terior to the oracles contained in the sacred books.
They put their own aspirations into her mouth, and
sometimes also the expression of their hatred of those
powers that had oppressed them. The portion of the
Sibylline Books which bears evident tokens of a Jewish
hand, begins by announcing the destruction of the dif-
ferent monarchies which had imposed their yoke upon
the holy nation, whilst the glory of the elect race is
celebrated on every key: from it is to proceed the
Saviour. The Messiah shall descend at the destined
time, and will bring peace and holiness with Him. The
adversaries of theocracy that rise up against Him shall
be annihilated in great catastrophes of the physical
world. Henceforward the people of God shall dwell in
peace and safety round about the temple, and Pagans
will unite with them to carry their offerings to Jeho-
vah. Such is the substance of the Sibylline Books,
which are, as we see, essentially theocratic. There may
be a slight modification in the different oracles, accord-
ing as the author was preoccupied with such or such
enemy of God's people ; but in their general character
they all bear a close resemblance, and never get beyond
temporal dominion.

236

JUDAISM.

The Book of Enoch, which was written — at least the
essential portion of it — before Christ, is chiefly taken
up with the description of the battle of the rebellious
angels against God, their pretended relations with the
daughters of men, and their fatal influence upon huma-
nity, in order to corrupt it and tempt it to the worship
of idols. Enoch, the friend of God, who was translated
to heaven, is commissioned to announce to the fallen
angels their future condemnation. This singular book
enters into minute details of the nature of angels
and demons, and of the physical constitution of the
earth, connected with a fantastical demonology. In one
of his most remarkable visions, the Messiah appears to
Enoch in all the glory of heaven. He is pre-eminently
the servant of God ; and was called into existence before
the sun and moon. His mission is to reveal all the
secrets of God ; then to judge the world. The deluge
was the first of His great judgments. The second w^ill
take place at the end of time, and will reach not only
the living, but the dead, and even the saints in heaven.
The kings of the earth shall tremble with fear, and all
the enemies of the Messiah shall be overwhelmed by
the wrath of God ; whilst the society of the saints shall
have everlasting life, and shall dwell with the Messiah
through all eternity. The Book of Enoch concludes
with a general and symbolical sketch of the history of
theocracy, divided into ten weeks, or ten periods. The
Judaic portion of the apocryphal book known under
the title of the 6th Book of Esdras, is animated by the
same spirit. The whole of this literature perfectly
coincides with what we know of the disposition of the
Hebrew people at this period, — with the material cha-
racter of their hopes ; with their exclusive preoccupation
about the terrestrial and political side of the work of
the Messiah ; and finally, with their immoderate predi-
lection for the doctrine of angels and demons. Never-

THE DECLINE OF JUDAISM. 237

theless the people lived in expectation — in intense,
anxious expectation. They felt themselves drifting on
to a great crisis of their history, badly prepared though
they were. Another Messiah was reserved for them
than that they looked forward to. Like the majority
of the Pagans, they misinterpreted their own aspirations.
But the universality of the feeling of expectation was
not the less an important fact, and one which an-
nounced the approaching issue of the period of pre-
paration.

But does this imply that this abnormal Judaism was
the sole representative of the people of Abraham and
David ? Not so. The very first pages of the Gospel
initiate us into the life, hopes, and prayers of a few
pious Israelites. The hymns of Simeon and of Mary
breathe an elevation, a spirituality, a stedfast confidence,
— in short, a whole order of sentiments, with which
there is nothing in the past comparable. The great
religious universalism already contained in the first
promise made to Abraham, shines out with admirable
clearness through their language, though the latter in
form is still Jewish. ' My eyes have seen thy salvation,'
says old Simeon, ' which Thou hast prepared before the
face of all people, to be a light to lighten the Gentiles.'
These upright, humble souls drew out of the very de-
generacy of their nation a still more ardent longing for
salvation. If we compare these hymns with the apo-
cryphal books of the time, we shall be convinced of the
simultaneous existence of two Judaisms, speaking the
same language, wearing the same costume, but pro-
foundly separated by their ideas and sentiments. In the
eyes of God, humanity is not a question of numbers, but
of moral value. Thus this little group of the Simeons
and Zachariahs, and others sharing their hopes and ex-
pectations, represented true Judaism, in the same way
that the Cornelius, the Sergius Paul, and later on the

238 JUDAISM.

Justins, represented the Greco-Roman world in its best
aspirations.

The time then is ripe at Jerusalem, at Athens, and at
Rome. When John the Baptist, the preacher of re-
pentance and of hope, brought with him from the desert
the words, ' Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand,' he proclaimed the two great results of the pre-
paratory economy: the salutary contrition of repentance,
and the joyful thrill of hope. From the broken heart
of the fallen race rises a sigh of sadness and of holy
desire. The earth thirsts for the dew of heaven, and
heaven is about to open to bestow its most precious
gift. The Son of God may descend, for He will now be
the Son of man ; from East to West suffering and prayers
enough invoke Him to permit this earthly name being
joined to His heavenly name.

CONCLUSION.

CHRISTIANITY.

Origen, in an allegorical interpretation of the Song of
Solomon, the exegetical accuracy of which may be ques-
tioned, but not its poetic beauty, has represented the
human soul as the mystical bride of the Redeemer.
He lets us hear her voice calling to Him out of the midst
of Paganism, as out of the midst of Judaism. ' The
Church,' he says, ' by which I understand the assembly
of the saints, desires her union with Jesus Christ, and
thus expresses her desire : — " I have been loaded with
blessings. I have received in profusion the pledges and
gifts of my divine marriage. During my betrothal with
the Son of the King of Heaven, the chief King of all
creatures, angels brought me the law as a gift from my
Spouse. Prophets, filled with the Holy Spirit, kindled
still more my love, and wakened up my desire to
behold Him ; by speaking to me of His coming, of His
countless virtues, of His infinite gifts, they portrayed
His noble beauty and His mercy. Therefore I can no
longer bear the expectation of such love. Already the
present dispensation is drawing to its close, and I still
only see His servants ascending and descending the
luminous ladder. To Thee I turn, Father of my Spouse.
I supplicate Thee to have pity on my love ; to send Him
to me, that He may speak to me no longer through

240 CONCLUSION.

His servants and prophets, but that He Himself come,
that I may hear Him speaking and teaching." The
liuman soul,' adds Origen, ^ even among the Pagan,
thirsts for its union with the Word (the Logos) ; it has
received the earnest of its divine marriage. As the
law and prophecy were pledges of the future to Israel,
in like manner the law of conscience, intelligence, and
free will were the nuptial gifts to the human soul, out-
side of Judaism. In no philosophic doctrine did it
find the satisfaction of its desire and of its love : it is
the illumination and visitation of the Word that it
demands. Neither men nor angels suffice. It seeks
the embrace of the Word of God.' The great Alex-
andrian doctor has in those words admirably painted the
state of expectation that prevailed in his day.

He came at last : He, for whose coming all things
had been a preparation and an announcement, and to-
wards whom the whole history of the ancient world had
gravitated. He came, and with Him was ushered in an
entirely new era : definitive religion now superseded all
preparatory religions.

This appreciation of Christianity is met at the
threshold by two leading objections, which it is ne-
cessary to remove. Adversaries, employing as an argu-
ment against it the natural analogies existing between
definitive religion and those religions which prepared
its way, deny to it all originality. Some maintain
that Jesus Christ merely carried forward the higher
and purer form of Judaism, without adding a single
doctrine, and without the consciousness of being the
author of a new religion. Others only see in His teach-
ings a happy blending of Jewish and Oriental ideas.
Neither hypothesis will stand a careful examination.
The first has been developed with vast erudition and
considerable ingenuity by a cotemporary school, which
would seem to have pledged itself to prove that what

CHRISTIANITY. 241

has hitherto been held to be primitive Christianity dates
from the second century, and to ascribe to Saint Paul
all that the Church has attributed to Christ Himself.
It would be necessary to recover foot by foot, by a
thorough examination of documents, the whole ground
of evangelical history. This, however, is not the moment
to engage in a discussion devoid of importance so long
as it keeps to generalities. In order to refute the essen-
tial principles of this school, it will suffice that we
establish the authenticity of the fourth Gospel ; since
it is evident that, if the Gospel of John goes back to its
traditional date, there is no possible construction can
make out Christ to be merely the most popular rabbi
that lived in the time of the Herods.

We shall show that the three first Gospels give us
the same Christ that the fourth does, modified, it may
be, by certain considerations. It is the aim of our his-
tory to overthrow the scaffoldings of this scientific
edifice, which, although of imposing proportions, never-
theless stands on a fragile basis. However, even here
we shall endeavour to refute the fundamental doctrine
of the school of Tubingen. In the work that may be
considered the definitive programme of its leader, we
are told that Jesus Christ confined Himself to the in-
culcating of pure morality, and to recommending the
development of the inner life. According to Baur,
Matthew's Gospel is the only really authentic document
that gives the thought of the Founder of Christianity.
This thought should be sought for in Christ's own dis-
courses, and especially in the Sermon on the Mount,
which bears evident marks of Judaism. If humility,
poverty, recourse to grace, renunciation of self and unto
God, are therein enforced, these comprise no really new
element. The originality of this primitive Christianity
consists solely in the predominance of the moral ele-
ment, and owes, he would say, its good fortune to the

Q

242 CONCLUSION.

coincidence of the over-excited hopes of the Jews of
the decadence, and of their feverish expectation of the
Messiah, with the remarkable personality of Jesus
Christ.'

We are justified in asking, By what right does the
illustrious scholar, whose views we are combating, single
out and isolate certain portions of one Gospel in order
to seek therein the whole of the Master's teaching?
Evangelical history, taken even from one Gospel, such
as Saint Matthew's, suffices to demonstrate the insuffi-
ciency of such an explanation of primitive Christianity.
No doubt we simplify the process of explanation, if we
throw overboard all the embarrassing portions of the
document we accept. It is notorious that in the first
Gospel, as well as in the others, Jesus Christ represents
Himself to be the object of faith. Salvation is identi-
fied with this belief Now this claim is an absolutely
new fact in Judaism, and is entirely without precedent.
It must have clashed in a special manner with its strict
monotheism, so intent on humbling man before God,
and on removing every pretext for presumptuous com-
parisons. To present Himself as the object of faith, was,
then, a daring attack upon the narrow circle of ancient
ideas, and a wide step beyond the simple moral deve-
lopment we are told of. It is futile to pretend that the
national expectation of the Messiah, so general at the
time, suggested this form to the teachings of Christ;
since, far from responding to the hopes of His time, at
least such as circulated among the masses. He carefully
discouraged and combated them. The very first words
of the Sermon on the Mount are an energetic protest
against the deep-rooted prejudices of that multitude,
who crowded round to hear the gracious word that
carried with it such authority. It taught not only a

^ Das Christenthum der drei ersten Jalirhunderte^ von Baur. Tubingen,
1853. P. 25 to 37.

CHRISTIANITY. 243

pure, humble, fervent Judaism; it preached not only
sorrow, repentance, poverty ; but it also announced
blessing. If, at first, it places this in penitential tears,
it is the almost daring proof of its power to pour conso-
lation and salvation into afflicted hearts. The first
Gospel, like the others, attributes to Christ pardon of
sins ; and puts language into His mouth, the terms of
which shall be weighed later on, but which, from a
purely Judaic point of view, must have been considered
as the height of blasphemy, and which was so considered
by the sacerdotal tribunal before which Christ was led.
It goes the length of placing the name of the Galilean
Master on a level with that of the thrice holy name of
Jehovah, and of establishing between Christ and God
a unique and mysterious relationship implying His
divinity, which He Himself tacitly admitted by not re-
pelling the accusation charged against Him in the San-
hedrim, of declaring Himself to be the Son of God.
The first Gospel, as well as the others, ascribes such
capital significance to His death and resurrection as to
confer on them dogmatic importance. It appears to us
that, without availing ourselves of the advantages to be
derived from a comparative study of the authentic
writings of the New Testament, and contenting our-
selves for the moment with a rapid glance at the ques-
tion at issue, we may set aside the assertion of that
school which is at present the most powerfully organized
against Christianity.

The other hypothesis, which deduces the doctrine of
Jesus Christ from the various sources of the ancient
world, is it more plausible ? Can we give our assent
to M. Salvador, when he says that ^ the young Galilean
Master consummated the union of Judaism and Orien-
talism without giving originality to His doctrine ? ' We
know what this Orientalism was, which, we are told,
formed one of the features of the Gospel. We have traced

244 CONCLUSION.

it through all its transformations; we have seen it
oscillate between materialism and extreme asceticism,
now glorifying and deifying Nature, now striving to
annihilate it, but ever pursued by this element of
matter, which it could never shake off, for the reason
that it could never explain it. Under its subtlest form,
and though invested in hues of a most seductive mysti-
cism, we find, even in the hands of Philo, that it still
bears the taint of its original dualism, and in the midst
of ecstasy and contemplation is still haunted by this
invincible matter. Though it created or revived the
term, the Word, yet the meaning it attached to the
word expressed the irremediable contradiction of its
daring doctrines. It needs great power of self-delusion,
or great ignorance, to confound the Word of the Alex-
andrian Jew with that of Saint John. The West was
too destitute of moral ideas, and too rank in corruption
and infamy, to permit us for a moment to suppose that
the new religion addressed itself to that quarter with a
view of borrowing. Assuredly, to create out of nothing
is no deep mystery, compared to this creation of a new
world out of a decrepit expiring world, — to have re-
course to all that was most effete, most impure, most
dark, to extract from it this pure, this radiant light !
If Christianity be a confused amalgamation, a machine
composed of more or less well adjusted pieces, fabri-
cated here and there, how are we to explain the admir-
able construction of its parts — the life that circulates
throughout the whole, and which reveals it to be, not an
artificial piece of mechanism, but a perfect organism ?
What crucible was fervid enough to fuse down these
different elements into one glorious metal, and cast it
into one single mould ? This is a miracle surpassing
all those that shock the inventors of the theory we are
combating. When they have explained this, it will
still remain for them to say why it has never been re-

CHRISTIANITY. 245

newed, and why Neo-Platonism, for example, presents so
striking a contrast to the Gospel.

It is supposed that this hypothesis is simplified if we
regard Jesus Christ as not having operated the fusion
between Judaism and Orientalism, but as being Himself
the result of this fusion. We are to regard this incom-
parable type as being the product of the alembics of phi-
losophical chemistry, thus producing at its pleasure the
greatest religious revolution in the annals of humanity.
Here again is another prodigy to confound our reason !
What ! a moral idiosyncrasy so characterized, — a being
so perfect, and at the same time so human, at whose
feet so many generations have sat to hear His words, —
this living personality to be compounded of the empty
abstractions of ancient philosophy at its decline ! What
is there between the Christ of the Gospel, the Friend of
Saint John, the Master that sympathized and wept at
the tomb of Lazarus, and the Christ of Gnosticism, with
those metaphysical phantoms hovering between heaven
and earth, intangible and silent, hybrid products of
sickly brains, that never detach themselves from the
nebulous region of dreams to take definite shape ? He
who does not feel that we have in the Christ of the
Gospel an absolutely different type from these pale
creations that never lived, has not the faculty by which
we discern the real.

Are they more successful who labour to prove Christ
to have been, not the product of the dust of philosophic
schools, but of a heated popular imagination, spontane-
ously weaving out a complex mythology ? We admit
the learning and talent displayed by Strauss in vindi-
cating this hypothesis. According to him, each event re-
corded in the Gospels is, as it were, the result of a subtle
combination of several myths of the Old Testament.
Thus the multitudinous threads that co-operated in
working out the wonderful tissue of the Gospel history

246 CONCLUSION.

adjusted themselves, without the aid of a guiding hand to
give them method or arrangement. Popular imagina-
tion, usually so light and capricious, subordinated itself
in this instance to a profoundly conceived plan, which it
wrought out consistently and perseveringly, approving it-
self to be at once spontaneous and ingenious, simple and
elaborate, — taking out of all the books of the Old Tes-
tament the heterogeneous elements of this mosaic of
legends called the Gospel ! Still more amazing that it
should turn out that this popular mythology, interpreted
by a philosopher of the 19th century, should have been
in perfect accordance with a system, by which Christ
symbolized eighteen centuries ago the inherent existence
of the absolute in man. Thus the spontaneous con-
science of a fanatical people created unwittingly a trans-
cendental philosophy which has not been fathomed until
our day, and the sole mission of the fishermen of the
Lake of Gennesareth was to prepare the way for the
learned professor of Berlin ! It strikes us that the sys-
tem of Strauss involves even more discrepancies than
those he attributes to the Gospel narratives, and that
this great adversary of the supernatural demands for
his theories a more stalwart faith than is necessary for
the admission of the most rare prodigies. Besides, the
great question of the authenticity of documents is too
often neglected. This is not to be disposed of so easily
as we may at first imagine. We shall deal with it in
the proper place, when we come to the consideration of
the great monuments of apostolic literature. If it be
proved, as we believe it is, that all our Gospels date
from the first century, then this fact alone will suf&ce to
refute the theories we have been analyzing.

If, then, there be, as we believe, a connection between
Christianity and those religions that prepared its way,
this connection is not that of effect and cause ; for
Christianity possessed aU the characteristics of an en-

CHRISTIANITY. 247

tirely original religion, and inaugurated a new cycle of
history. The relation it bore to preceding forms of
worship, is the relation existing between the satisfaction
of a desire and the desire itself. That there should be
certain analogies between the Gospel and the prepara-
tory scheme, ought not to surprise us : they are the
analogies existing between the symbol and the thing
signified ; between the shadow and the body ; between
the type and the reality ; between prophecy and accom-
plishment. Christianity is, in short, the fulfilment of
all that was prefigured, waited for, desired, in the an-
cient world. Its true nature is evident from this defi-
nition. We learn to view it pre-eminently as a fact,
an immense fact, whose roots had struck down deep
through a past of four thousand years, as they had done
in the heart of every man, and whose consequences were
to reach as far as the destinies of the immortal soul.

The originality of the Gospel is completely mis-
apprehended when it is viewed simply as an illustra-
tion of those moral truths which ancient philosophy
embodied, and transmitted through its most distin-
guished representatives, or when it is considered as the
last link of a dogmatic tradition, identical in substance,
though varying in form, in all religions. The deistical
and traditionalistic schools here coincide in the same
error. These great truths, which have been erroneously
baptized by the name of Natural Religion — for, since
the fall, there is no really natural religion but the
religion of the redemption, which is man's restoration
to his normal nature — all these moral ideas that play
over the surface of Paganism, reveal, in their highest
aspects, their own insufficiency. They goad man on to
the pursuit of the Good, the True, the Beautiful ; they
hinder him from being ever consoled at their loss ; they
haunt him as he kneels before the altars of his false
gods.

248 CONCLUSION.

The idea of the Good calls for its manifestation :
even the incomplete perception of the ideal demands
its realization. Were Christianity nothing more than
the most consummate of systems, it might be reckoned
as the best of the preparatory religions, but not as de-
finitive religion. This religion is a living fact : not
confined to the perception of the ideal, like Platonism,
or to the prophesying of it, like Judaism, this religion
realized the ideal. Hence is it the term of the aspira-
tions of the ancient world, and the inauguration of a
new era. If Jesus Christ be but the sublimest of
teachers, or the greatest of prophets, there is no essen-
tial difference between Him and Socrates or Isaiah.
What constitutes the grand originality of His work is,
that He gives all that His precursors promised or hoped
for, and did not merely bear witness to the truth, but
was empowered to say, with that calm assurance that
carried with it such weight of moral authority, ' / am
the truth.'' ' Per me venitur, ad me pervenitur, in me
permanetur!'

Humanity, taken as a whole, has never erred in its
mode of propounding the religious problem. It has
ever held religion to be not a mere communication of
ideas concerning the Divinity, but a solemn effort to
re-unite the broken bond between heaven and earth,
to establish an effectual union between man and God.
The religions of the ancient world had all presenti-
ments of this union, and strove to realize it. In the
East, it manifested itself under the form of frequent
incarnations ; in the West, in the apotheoses. In the
East, it is the Divinity that stoops to man ; in the West,
humanity rises to the Divinity ; but neither in India
nor in Greece was the real union between man and
God effected. In India, incarnation was but illusory,
and was, to borrow the expression of the Pouraîias, but
a kind of mask with which the friendly divinity in-

CHRISTIANITY. 249

vested himself, ' like an actor who puts on a costume
to perform a part.' If we consider attentively, we
shall find that these repeated incarnations were strik-
ing proofs of the contempt which this pantheistic and
ascetic religion professed for the human individual,
which was, in its eyes, but an evanescent form of the
absolute being. Brahma or Vishnou alone possesses real
existence. The worshipper seeks to become merged
in them, and to utterly annihilate the human element.
In Greece, it is the divine element which is compro-
mised. Humanity in its natural state is declared to be
divine : if adored in its grandeur, it is so likewise in
its passions and in its weaknesses. The Olympian god
is but a hero placed on an altar. Thus, we see, the
religious problem is far from being solved. Efforts
were made to simplify it by reducing it to a factitious
unity, alternately ignoring either the divine or the
human side. In India, we find all is one vast divinity,
devouring the universe which it creates and destroys
at the same time. In Greece, we find nothing but one
presumptuous humanity trying to cheat, by adoration
of itself, its own infinite wants, and hiding its short-
comings under the graceful veil of polytheism. Never-
theless, and in spite of those radical imperfections, the
aim and endeavour of those religions of the East and
West, even under their grossest myths, was the union
of the Divinity with humanity. They impress us like
an incoherent dream, which in its incoherency ever
dwells upon the same thought, thus revealing the
dominant preoccupation of the sufferer.

Besides this persistent yearning to establish an effec-
tive union between humanity and the Divinity, there is
another element in the aspirations of the ancient world
which we cannot omit noticing : its consciousness that
this union was only possible by means of a reparation.
Notwithstanding its corruption — notwithstanding the

2oO CONCLUSION.

falseness of the solutions it gave of tlie formidable ques-
tion of the origin of evil — notwithstanding its tendency
to see in evil a necessary law of the finite being, the an-
cient world was still tormented by the want to efface or
to expiate it. The errors of its metaphysics, the culpable
aberrations of its practices, did not prevent it bearing
witness, through the medium of its most characteristic
religious institutions, to the immortal truths engraved
upon the human conscience. The idea of an inherent im-
purity, separating man from God, and hindering his free
access to the Divinity, without an intermediary, lies at
the root of all forms of worship, and which, though al-
tered and alloyed in many ways, bursts forth at times like
a flame from amid smouldering ashes. Effectual union
with the Divinity, reconciliation with Him by means
of reparation, — these form the ultimate groundwork of
the creeds and aspirations of the ancient world. We
find the same in the Platonic philosophy ennobled and
purified, but still blended with heterogeneous elements.
In Judea, this groundwork of creeds and aspirations
was entirely sheltered from all corrupting influences ; it
was fostered by God Himself, and was unfolded in a
succession of positive revelations. Judaism was pre-
eminently an energetic reaction against the worship of
Nature : its rigid monotheism deepened the abyss be-
tween the creature and the Creator. It revealed,
above all, the awful sanctity of Jehovah, and by con-
trast showed man's corruption : this it paints in charac-
ters of fire, and shows the impossibility of reconciliation
without some great act of reparation. It thus sheds
light upon the side which in Paganism was left obscure.
We are not, however, to suppose that the idea of union
with the Divinity was foreign to it. But, from the
Judaic point of view, this union could not be immediate
and direct. Mediation was necessary ; and this media-
tion was to be the work of the Messiah. This hope

CHRISTIANITY. 251

became progressively clearer and brighter ; and though
the prophecies, even the most magnificent of them, were
surpassed by the event that accomplished them, they
nevertheless foreshadowed what was essential in it.
A Saviour coming down from heaven, accomplishing
through suJBfering and death the work of reparation, —
this was truly the hope of the fallen race under its
divine and inspired form. It was this hope that the
Divine Redeemer realized. He united in His person
humanity and the Divinity, not merely in a moral sense,
but in the absolute sense, by His incarnation. The
Word became flesh. The only Son of the Father — He
who by His word created the world — became like unto
us, except sin. He condescended to our low estate, and
took our nature upon Him. He was the Son of man
and the Son of God — the Man- God, and hence pre-
eminently man, — the ideal man ; for the destiny of a
being created in the image of God, and called to an in-
timate union with Him, is never really consummated
but in God. This glory vouchsafed to humanity, extra-
ordinary as it was, was nevertheless the object of uni-
versal aspiration, and we degrade humanity by affirming
its incapacity.

We shall not enter here into the metaphysical sub-
tleties which time and the disputations of the schools
have gathered round the person of Christ, nor discuss
scholastic distinctions concerning the two natures —
their relation or penetration. We confine ourselves to
the simple, grand declarations of the Scriptures : ' The
Word was made flesh. ' ' In Him dwells all the fulness
of the Godhead bodily.' The humble Christian, who,
taking his stand on these promises, and receiving daily
the precious earnest of their accomplishment, growing
up into Christ as the branch does into the vine, par-
taking of His substance, receiving His sap. His life. His
warmth, carries in his own heart an invincible demon-

252 COXCLUSION.

stration of the divinity of Christ. He recognises this
divinity under the veil of humihation which He volun-
tarily took upon Himself on earth. This humiliation of
the Saviour answered to a deep-felt want of reparation
by which the human conscience had been tormented.
It teaches that Jesus Christ came not only to bring the
most signal proof of divine love, but also that He might
enter into communion and partake of the sufferings of
humanity, to the end that He might represent humanity,
and in its name offer the atoning sacrifice. It was not
possible that the fallen, guilty race could be restored to
its privileges, so long as it continued stiff-necked, proud,
and rebellious. God's love, immense though it be, can-
not save a being who refuses to respond to it, who even
rejects it with disdain. Let us not forget that love is
another name for holiness, since it presents the highest
form of good. It is at once the supreme benediction
and the supreme law. It demands reciprocity : as long
as this is refused, it cannot exercise its beneficent in-
fluence. The hearts it can neither warm nor fructify,
are consumed by it as by a devouring fire. So long as
humanity refused to abjure its rebellion, so long as it
refused to respond to love by love — by holy, disinterested
love ; so long is it under the wrath of God, which is
another name for the severe aspect of His sanctity.
Corrupt to the very core, smitten by fear, the fallen
race might desire reconciliation, but was powerless to
effect it. To do this, it was necessary it should, in the
midst of the condemnation that overwhelmed it, in
suffering and death, accomplish such an act of adora-
tion and supreme obedience as should efface the act of
rebellion and pride, by which it let loose the power of
evil. This act should be a perfect act, without mixture
of selfishness, — an act worthy of divine love, a full, com-
plete return to God by a free sacrifice. It is clearly
impossible that humanity could do this. He only could

CHRISTIANITY. 253

do it who, coming down from heaven into the world of
the fall, voluntarily took upon Himself the burden of
our sorrows and sufferings, and accepted them all. He
made a life of suffering, one that was a faithful image of
human destiny since the day of its condemnation, — He
made it a holy sacrifice to God, and by His obedience
restored the race He represented. Condemnation thus
borne is no longer condemnation. Christ, by passing
through it, transformed it ; since with Him extreme
suffering was at the same time perfect obedience, and
consequently the very condition of reconciliation. A
mysterious but real solidarity united Him with human-
ity. The Desired of nations was indeed, the Son of man.
It was then the heart of man He brought to God, who
only waited this response to His love to pour down
upon us all His blessings. Thus was salvation effected
by a holy immolation, comprehending the entire life of
Christ, and terminating in His bloody death. Justice
and love were satisfied ; and conscience, bearing God's
claims inscribed upon it, was equally so.

The cross was not merely a guarantee of pardon ; it
not only realized the essential conditions of it, effecting
the required reparation, but effecting it in a manner
worthy of God. The grandeur of divine love shone out
in all its vigour at this supreme moment of our reli-
gious history. ^ God was in Christ reconciling the
world to Himself A Father opening His arms to His
child returning to Him by a great sacrifice. Above the
clouds accumulated by scholastic theology since the
time of Anselm, His mercy shines in its pure splendour,
and with it His justice. The resurrection of the new
Adam — ' first fruits of those who sleep' — was the assur-
ing proof that the reparation was judged complete, and
that humanity was redeemed from its guilt. His ascen-
sion, and the sending forth of the Holy Spirit, demon-
strate that His saving action is to be continued through

254 CONCLUSION.

the ages, until the triumph of truth is consummated.
Henceforth, whoever by a living, personal faith unites
himself to the holy Victim of calvary, whoever accepts
His sacrifice, will receive the benefits flowing from it ;
and all those who die with Him, by crucifying the flesh
and its lusts, will rise with Him in holiness and glory.
* He who belives in Him shall not die ; he has eter-
nal life.'

It is reluctantly that by distinctions and definitions,
which, however, are necessary, we should chill the impres-
sion produced on the heart and conscience by the simple
view of Christ. The same attraction felt, during His
passage through earth, by those whose hearts were not
sealed by pride. He still exerts amongst us. It was not
after long reasoning on His person. His divine and
human nature, that Mary Magdalene the sinner poured
her precious box of ointment on His feet — that the
afflicted multitudes crowded round Him and followed
His footsteps. It sufficed to have seen and heard Him
to feel the power of that irresistible attraction. There
was in Him such gentleness and purity, in His words
such authority and power — a something so consoling
and celestial was diffused through His whole person,
that all honest hearts felt themselves at once pene-
trated by s}rmpathy towards Him, blended with ten-
derness and adoration. A divine virtue surrounded Him
like a halo ; He was felt to be as powerful as He was
compassionate, as able to deliver as He was to console ;
and amid all His miracles there was the presentiment
of a still greater — that which all the others announced
and prefigured — the restoration by love of the fallen race.
If, at first, the multitude followed Him that their bodily
infirmities might be healed, there was another malady,
one nobler and deeper, caused by sin, which they
looked to Him to heal. They read God's pardon on
His countenance before they heard it from His lips.

CHRISTIANITY. 255

Infinite love crowned His head as with a glory; and
conscience at His contact shuddered with sublime joy,
for it felt there was the realization of the perfect ideal.
When He spoke those simple words, ' Come to Me, all
ye that labour and are heavy laden,' He carried light
and peace into hearts by means of the intimate corre-
spondence existing between His person and the wants of
the soul. There was not one single noble aspiration of
the human heart that did not find its full satisfaction in
Him. All seemed to gravitate to Him; hence the prompt
obedience to His call on the part of those who were free
from infatuation, either about themselves or about their
national glory. Christ had no need to prove His right
to their confidence ; He had but to appear, for them to
throw themselves at His feet. And under what august
traits does He, oh ideal Christian, appear when on the ac-
cursed and bloody cross ! The spectacle of this crucified
one, crowned with thorns, quenching His thirst with
gall, scoffed at by His executioners at the moment He
pours out His prayer for their forgiveness, is such an
immense, such an unexpected, such an exalted revela-
tion of love, that we must either turn away our eyes
or adore.

It sufiices to fix one penetrating glance on this cross,
to feel constrained to bow down before it, vanquished
as well as convinced. And this impression is no mys-
tical ecstasy, the result of the triumph of imagination
over enfeebled reason. No; it is a deliberate convic-
tion— a conviction resting on internal reasons, far supe-
rior to all logical reasonings, since they imply the
accordance of the whole being with truth, and not
merely one faculty, the purely intellectual and logi-
cal one. If it be true that humanity was made for
Christ, there is nothing extraordinary in the fact that,
at His appearance, it should prostrate itself at His feet
pacified and satisfied, except in those instances when it

25Q

CONCLUSION.

voluntarily turned away from Him. The cross is the
final issue of man's religious history, but an issue long
prepared for. Not only was it so for the entire race,
but is still in the heart of each individual, whereon the
finger of God writes, as it were, an inner Old Testa-
ment ; where a work of preparation is being slowly ela-
borated ; where, upon the wrecks of many idols, is
slowly built up the altar to the unknown God. Accord-
ingly, when this unknown but expected God appears,
and is met by no obstinate resistance. He is received
with joy ; for He responds to all the religious antece-
dents of the soul, as He answered eighteen centuries
ago to the whole religious past of humanity.

Hence the most powerful of all apologies is the simple
statement of Christ's life and death. The evangelical
narratives resuscitate Him, as it were, anew for us, so
perfect is the fidelity and simplicity with which they
paint Him. They show Him to us, after His obscure
but glorious infancy, manifesting at the very outset of
His ministry that elevation and calm which can come
alone from absolute devotion. Surrounded for a moment
by popular favour, after some striking miracles reflect-
ing His compassionate love. He soon finds Himself re-
duced to a small number of disciples, recruited from the
lowest class of the most despised province of Judea.
It is to those He pours out His sublimest teachings :
the crowd abandon Him the day He reveals the austere
side of His doctrine, and when He refuses to flatter
their ambitious nationality. To the chiefs of the nation,
who carry on sometimes an underhand, sometimes an
open, war against Him, but one always inspired by the
worst motives. He opposes an energy the more invin-
cible for its calmness. Once, however. He rose to vehe-
ment indignation, denouncing the hypocrisy of the
Pharisees ; and upon those whited sepulchres writing
the sentence for all time of those unscrupulous men

CHRISTIANITY. 257

who trade upon religion, buyers and sellers of the
temple, who make the altar itself the counter for their
commerce.

Whether He argues with His adversaries, whether He
announces the Gospel to the people, whether He ex-
plains His parables to His disciples, or withdraws to the
desert or the mountain, He is always pre-eminently the
Righteous One, the Saint of Saints, whom sin never even
touched ; He is Divine Love personified. In the upper
chamber, where it seems as if He too wished to pour out
before His death His precious box of ointment, in that
last discourse into which He discharged His whole heart,
at Gethsemane, at the judgment-seat, in the agony of
death, He is always true to Himself. What can we
say to those who remain unmoved by such a narrative,
if not that they are without the sense of the ideal, and
the sense of their own infirmities ? It is not the moment
for reasoning, but for silent, adoring contemplation.^

It now remains for us to consider what were the
modifications produced by Christ's coming upon the
religious institutions of the ancient world. We have
shown how closely connected these institutions were
with the preparatory scheme. Man makes unavailing
efforts by sacrifices to satisfy his desire for reconcilia-
tion with God. He builds temples, feeling earth to be
sullied and under a curse, but hoping the malediction
not irrevocable. He sets aside special days for worship,
believing man's nature to be not less sullied than earth,
but hoping the evil to be not without remedy. Finally,

^ See tlie numerous lives of Jesus published in Germany : that by Nean-
der, 1845 ; by Lange, 5 vols., 1844 ; Die LeJire der Person Christi, by Gess,
1856 (see the analysis given of it by M. Godet in the Revue Chrétienne^
1857-1858). We must also mention the admirable work, on the Sinlessness
of Jesus Christ, by UUmann, translated into English by Rev. R. L. Brown
(Edinburgh : T. and T. Clark) ; our articles published in the Revue Chré-
tienne (November and December 1856) on the Divinity of Christ, and our
discourse upon the Redeemer.

R

258 CONCLUSION.

he appoints priests to represent him in the sanctuary,
— imperfect mediators striving to fill up the chasm be-
tween the sinning creature and the Divinity, and who
seem to predict that this distance should one day dis-
appear. All these institutions were accepted by God,
and disengaged from the impure elements with which
they were alloyed in Paganism. Jewish theocracy
developed these institutions in all their plenitude, the
Jews having been isolated from all other people in
order to constitute them a national priesthood. It is
evident that the accomplishment of the work of re-
demption must necessarily have introduced a radical
change into this order of things, seeing it was impos-
sible that the institutions of the preparatory religion
could suit definitive religion, precisely for the reason
that they were so admirably adapted to the situation
of humanity before Jesus Christ.

First of all, it is evident that redemption once
effected, the line of demarcation should disappear,
which formerly separated the Jews from all other na-
tions, since there was no other object for the election of
the Jews than that one spot of earth should be reserved
for monotheism, and that it should be the cradle of the
Messiah. Universalism, which had hung like a glorious
promise over Judaism, necessarily swept away every
barrier, from the day that the salvation of the whole
human race was won upon the Cross. Every privilege
vanished before the grandeur and universality of the
pardon that had been achieved. The Saviour did not
merely represent the Jews ; He called Himself the Son
of Man, the new Adam, and invited to come to Him
all the children, without distinction, of the fallen race
which He had redeemed.

Since His blood flowed on Calvary, earth, purified,
was delivered from the anathema that had weighed
upon it. The temple of Jerusalem was no longer to

CHRISTIANITY. 259

be the sole sanctuary of the holy God. The whole sum
of human life was won back to God, rising, for the
believer, to the dignity of a permanent worship ; thus
abolishing the distinction between the profane and the
sacred. No other distinction now existed but that be-
tween good and evil ; which distinction implies that the
first should be always practised, and the second always
avoided. Finally, the separation between heaven and
earth was filled up. One single Mediator had super-
seded all others. One single ofiering, one sole sacri-
fice, was proclaimed acceptable and sufficient. The
new people of God were all a people of kings and
priests, each called to self-immolation, and by this
spiritual, voluntary immolation, to ratify the sacrifice
by which redemption was achieved. We should add
too, that the severe dispensation of the law was abro-
gated, and fear replaced by the more fruitful impulses
of love. To the complicated system of ordinances,
that constituted the preparatory economy, succeeded
the ever old and new commandment, that of love,
complete self-sacrifice, — a commandment all-powerful
in its efficacy, seeing it gives what it orders by the
communication of a divine virtue to the heart. The
complex ritual was abrogated ; the ceremonial law
abolished ; the Mosaic law, in its highest significance,
modified, enlarged, and spiritualized. Redemption
opened up to man access to God, rendered communion
with Him possible : accordingly, the character of divine
authority, though not diminished, was altered ; being
less external, less legal, and becoming more spiritual,
reaching more the inner life, substituting love and per-
suasion for constraint, and the ' easy yoke ' for the iron
rod. A formidable sanction was nevertheless attached
to this renewed law of liberty and love. The blessings
and benefits it involved for the Christian, were reversed
for him who neglected so great salvation. His condem-

260 CONCLUSION.

nation was measured in proportion to the blessings
offered liim who had grown up into Christ.

We now see that it was truly a new covenant Christ
came to establish. This is sometimes denied, on the
pretext that He did not annul the ancient dispensation,
and that He Himself submitted to all legal observances ;
but, in so asserting, we misconceive the nature of the
reform He came to effect. He employed means ad-
justed to the end He had in view. This end was de-
liverance from the yoke of the law, which deliverance
could not itself be invested with a legal character.
Hence He did not solemnly proclaim it under the form
of a decree ; He inspired it rather than instituted it ;
He prepared hearts — a far more efîicacious process than
verbal precepts. Besides, before the completion of His
work, the abrogation of the old covenant would have
been premature. This abrogation flowed necessarily
from the redemption, as a consequence flows from its
principle. It sufficed that He laid down the principle.
The consequence. He knew, was implicitly contained
in it, and would in due season be evolved.

He wished the new wine to be poured into new
bottles ; hence the slow education to which He sub-
jected His disciples — an education destined to be com-
pleted by the lessons of experience. He allowed them
to foresee, by certain significant expressions, such as
those used in His discourse with the woman of Samaria,
the transformation to be wrought in the ancient eco-
nomy ; but He imposed nothing on them. He, whose
power over souls was so complete, would not do them
violence. Acts of authority in the moral world are
symptoms of weakness : we only resort to religious des-
potism when we despair of prevailing by persuasion.
This despotism was necessary under the old covenant,
but under the new would have been an anachronism.
What the latter lost in external and legal authority, it

CHRISTIANITY. 261

gained in real power, in ascendancy over minds and
hearts. It is impossible to overstate the admirable
manner in which Christ prepared the transition from
one dispensation to the other. He abolished the old
covenant, as Neander has well said, by accomplishing
it, — that is to say, by fully realizing the desire of sal-
vation manifested by its most characteristic institu-
tions. We are not, however, to suppose that definitive
religion, in substituting liberty for constraint, author-
ized in the least degree either disorder or religious
anarchy. Theocracy was abolished. The individual,
restored to the possession of all his rights, was put in
personal contact with God, but was not left isolated.
A new society was founded, under the name of the
Church, whose bond of union was love and faith, and
which was recruited from among all people and among
all ranks. This was the new humanity, the normal
society, into which admission was not acquired by right
of birth or by any purely external sign, but by the new
birth, — that is to say, by adhesion of the heart and con-
science. This society was free to constitute itself ac-
cording to its own will, and to organize its government,
provided it did not return to the sacerdotal or hierar-
chical systems. It was free to appoint days and places
for worship, on condition that it did not revive either
the Jewish festivals or the sanctuary. The problem to
be resolved was the creation of the different institutions
necessary to its consolidation, without declining from
the spiritualism essential to it, without relapsing from
the new covenant to the old, from Christianity back to
Judaism. This was just the danger that most menaced
the new religion, — the difficulty of escaping, not the
hostility, but the fatal attraction, of the religions which
preceded it, and which continued to subsist by its side.
We are now, at the close of this Introduction, enabled
to estimate the extent of this danger. We now under-

262

CONCLUSION.

stand Paganism and Judaism, which, Uke Herod and
Pilate, became reconciled, in order that they might
more effectually put Christ to death, and stifle the
Church in its cradle. On both sides, the opposition be-
tween God and man was maintained : in Paganism,
under the form of dualism, which ultimately prevailed
over Greek humanism, when the latter had fulfilled its
mission. The human element, matter, the creature as
creature, the finite, in a word, is considered as evil in its
essence ; no redemption being possible but by the an-
nihilation of the finite, which was to be attained by
means of ecstasy and exercises of asceticism. Chris-
tianity strikes at the root of dualism by the doctrines
of creation and of moral evil.

In Judaism the opposition between man and God
was not based on this pantheistic theosophy, but on the
dogma of the fall. It was therefore grounded in fact,
and was perfectly legitimate up to the day redemption
was accomplished. Henceforward Christianity effaced
it, since the Redeemer removed all opposition between
man and God. But neither Paganism nor Judaism was
disposed to retire before the religion whose advent they
had nevertheless prepared. They opposed it by open
violence and by secret perfidy. After the first battle
was lost, — that of the Judaic and Gnostic heresies, —
they laboured to gain the second by introducing into the
Church Oriental asceticism, and the Judaic sacerdotal
system, with its sacrifices and hierarchy. This victory
was, however, partial ; the immortal principles of Chris-
tianity could not be stifled. Although more or less
compromised by unfortunate alliances, they continued
to bear precious fruit for the world, until the time came
round when they should be again purified from those
foreign and pernicious influences. The history of the
first three centuries is the history of the struggle be-
tween Christianity and the powers hostile to it. We

CHRISTIANITY. 263

shall see this struggle pursued from sphere to sphere :
from the agitated sphere of the external world, in which,
by most sanguinary persecutions, attempts were made
to arrest the ardour of the Christian missions, to the
apparently more pacific sphere of theology. We shall
not overlook the changes introduced into the constitu-
tion and forms of worship of the Church, nor the modi-
fications that the Christian life underwent.

Christian missions and persecutions, heresies and the
development of dogmas, ecclesiastical organization and
the character of piety, during the three first centuries,
such is the vast field we have undertaken to explore.
Christianity is the religion of the individual as well as
that of holiness. We shall accordingly endeavour to
place in due light the noble physiognomies of those
heroic Christians who have left such luminous tracks in
the history of the Church, and who won her victory at
the price of their own blood. We shall see how those
early times of the Christian community, poor and perse-
cuted as it was, were favourable to the free development
of faith and life. We shall find none of that uniform
Christianity which has predominated since the era of
the great Councils and of their imposed symbols. Never-
theless, even in these days of liberty, fatal tendencies
manifested themselves : the servitude of future ages
was gradually being prepared. We must have the cou-
rage, even when standing by the scaffolds of martyrs, to
point out the deviations of the Church, which, however
imperceptible at the outset, became serious in their re-
sults. We must not suffer our eyes to be dazzled by
their pure glory, however painful may be the sacrifice
to truth in mixing blame with the homage we pay to
men we enthusiastically admire. Nothing, however,
can diminish the grandeur of the spectacle presented to
the world by the all-powerful weakness of a despised,
persecuted Church triumphing over the Roman Colossus,

264 CONCLUSION.

and saving human dignity by dint of sufferings humbly
borne. But, before seeing it march on to these in-
comparable triumphs, we must first see it constituted
under the direction of the immediate disciples of its
Divine Head. It is not possible to comprehend the
Church of the first three centuries without first making
the Apostolic Age the object of close study ; because,
in order to estimate the gravity of the deviations, we
must first have contemplated its ideal state.

INDEX.

^^schylus, the Greek tragic poet, 85.

Ahriman — see Ormuz.

Alexander and his successors — see
Greece under Alexander.

Arabian worship of the stars, 23.

Aristophanes, character of his dramatic
writings, 87.

Aristotle, the philosophy of, 131-135.

Art — religious in the temples at Tyre, '
27 — in Babylon and Nineveh, 27, 28 ,
— in Egypt, 33-35 — in Persia, 43 — j
ancient Greek, 71 — its development,
88-93.

Art in Greece, its rise and progress, 88
— temple architecture, 89 — great
progress in sculpture, 90-93.

Asia, the religions of Western, 21 — sun
and moon worship by the Asiatics, 21
— the gods of the Scythians, 22 — the
Arabs the first to worship the stars,
23 — astrology practised by the Baby-
lonians, 23 — sensuality of their wor-
ship, 24 — the Phœnician religion, 24,
25— the Tyrian Hercules, 26, 27.

Astarte — see Tyrian Hercules.

Athens the centre of Hellenic culture,
83.

Atys, festivals of the, 26-28.

Babylonians, the, sensual character of

their worship, 23.
Baur on Matthew's Gospel, 241. '

Bhagavat-Pouranas, the, bears trace of

ancient pantheism, 62.
Brahma, his increase in influence, 48 —

Nature an emanation from Brahma,

48 — Brahminisra according to the I
. Laws of INIanou, 49 — the system of i

castes, 50 — family relationship as j

contained in the Laws of Manou, 51
— the life of an anchorite the highest
perfection in a Brahmin, 52 — specu-
lation inherent in the Hindu mind,
53.
Buddha, legend concerning the founder
of, 54 — its four principles, 55 — their
yjassion for death, 56— the true fol-
lower of Buddhism is a recluse, 56 —
their monasteries, 57 — rapid spread
of Buddhism, 57, 58.

Castes, the system of, according to the
Laws of Manou, 50-54.

Christianity, 239 — objections to the
teaching of the Redeemer, 240 — the
Gospels and the founder of Chris-
tianity, 241-248 — union between the
humanity and divinity of Christ,
248 — Judaism reveals the true God,
251 — declarations of Scripture con-
cerning Christ, 251-257 — modifica-
tions produced on the religious in-
stitution by Christ's api:)earance on
earth, 257.

Christianity — its suitableness to man's
wants, 5 — the history of religions of
human origin a proof of the agree-
ment of revealed religion to the wants
of man, 6 — importance of the study
of ancient history, 6, 7 — theories re-
garding the development of humanity
to the time of Christianity, 8 —
theories regarding the religions of
the world, 8-10 — the history of reli-
gion, what it is, 10 — ideas of the
Alexandrian fathers, 11 — apologetic
work of Theodoret, 11 — divisions of
modern apologists, 12 — Schelling's

266

INDEX.

idea regarding the human con-
science, 13 — the problem of the fall,
14 — Humanity before Jesus, 15-17.

Conservatism a characteristic of the
ancient Egyptians, 27.

Covenant, the New, established by
Christ's coming, 260.

Decline of Judaism, 219 — planting of
the Assyrian colony in the land
of Israel, 220 — the Babylonish
captivity, 220 — the return under
Esdras and Nehemiah, 221 — vari-
ous phases in Jewish history, 221
the Roman policy, 222 — institution
of the synagogues, 223 — preponder-
ating influence of the Scribes, 224 —
influence exercised by the Jews over
the nations amongst which they were
scattered, 225 — the two currents of
Judaism, 225 — revival of religion
after the restoration, 226 — the influ-
ence of Oriental Theosophy, 227 —
effects of the Jewish emigration to
Alexandria, 228 — the Thérapeutes,
231 — the sect of the Pharisees, 233 —
the Sadducees, 233 — hopes regarding
the Messiah, 234, 235— the book of
Enoch, 236 — the representatives of
true Judaism, 237, 238.

Divinity of Jesus recognisable by Chris-
tians through the "veil of His humil-
ity, 252, 253.

Dramatic poetry, the advent of, 84.

Egyptian religion, the, 28 — character of
the people, 29 —they worship a mul-
tiplicity of gods, 30 — gods represented
under the forms of sacred animals,
31 — the myth of Isis and Osiris, 32,
33 — the artistic faculty of the Egyp-
tians highly developed, 33 — its aim
is to preserve the memory of the past,
34.

Enoch, the Book of, 236.

Epictetus, the philosophy of, 181.

Essenians, the sect of, in Judea,
231-234.

Eusion of the local mythologies of the
Egyptians, 30.

Gospel, its originality misapprehended
when viewed as an illustration of
moral truths which ancient philoso-
phy embodied, 247.

Greco-Roman world, the, 153, 154 —
luxury of Roman life, 155-157 — sla-
very in Rome, 158, 159 — degraded
life of women, 160, 161 — prevailing
licentiousness of men, 162 — the aim
of luxury, 163, 164 — state of litera-

ture, 165 — state of the fine arts, 166
the complicated religious condition,
167-173 — the philosophic spirit, 174
the New Academy, 175 — Cicero, 175
— Epicurus, 176, 177 — Stoicism, 178
— Seneca the incarnation of Roman
Stoicism, 179 — the philosophy of
Epictetus, 181 — the work of Plu-
tarch, 183-186 — shortcomings of phi-
losophy, 186.

Greco-Roman Paganism — see Greece
under Alexander and his successors.

Greece, rise of literature in, 74-88— de-
velopment of art in, 83-93.

Greece under Alexander and his suc-
cessors, 136 — decline of Athens, 136
— Alexandria becomes the centre of
Greek civilisation, 137 — prevalence
of scepticism in religion and philoso-
phy, 138, 140 — Epicureanism, 141 —
Stoicism, 141 — the philosophy of the
Porch, 143 — teaching of Carneades,
143 — decline of Greek literature,
143-145 — decline of the plastic arts,
145 — development of the mechanical
arts, 146, 147.

Greek philosophy to the time of Alex-
ander, 100 — the mission of philosophy
previous to Christianity, 101 — Natur-
ism, 103 — the mechanism tendency,
105— the theory of Numbers, 105, 106
— the Idealism of the Elean school,
107 — rise of Sophisism, 107 — the mis-
sion of Socrates, 108-114— rise of the
Platonic philosophy, 11.5-130 — the
philosophy of Aristotle, 130-135.

Harmony of the Gospels regarding the
character and mission of Jesus, 241.

Hellenic Humanism, its development,
73 — the two great events of the
heroic age, 73— Greek literature, 74-
88 — development of art in Greece,
88-93— Greek mythology, 93-98—
Hellenic life essentially public, 99,

Hercules Sando — see Tyrian Hercules.

History of the three first centuries of
Christianity, 262, 263.

Human sacrifices presented to Moloch,
25.

Humanity has not erred in its mode of
propounding the religious problem,
248.

Idealism of the Elean school, 107.

Indian religion, the, 44 — the Rig Veda,
4.5, 46 — their early form of religion
resembled pantheism, 47 — priestcraft
became the preponderating influ-
ence, 48 — Brahminism, 48-54 —
Buddhism, 54-58 — the sect Vischnou,
59-62 — the Bhagavat-Pouranas, 63

INDEX.

267

— legends of the Lapithie and Cen-
taurs, 71 — exploits of Theseus, 72 —
its historical tendency, 72, 73.

Iran, a land of contrasts, 36.

Isis and Osiris, the myth of, 32, 33.

Joga, the system of, 61.

Judaism, 191 — the history of Judaism
and Paganism contrasted, 192 — in-
tuitive longings of man after salva-
tion, 195 — sacrifice and erection of
temples dedicated to God, 196 — the
consecration of the priesthood, 200 —
Judaism not a perfect religion, 202.

Judaism pre-eminently an energetic
reaction against the worship of Na-
ture, 250.

Judaism, the decline of — see Decline of
Judaism.

Love of Jesus for sinners exemplified
in His life and death, 254, 255, 258-
262.

Man — Nature the first object of his
worship, 18 — is brought face to face
with the laws of conscience, 19 — he
yields to sensual enjoyments, 19 —
the religions of Nature disappear be-
fore other creations of conscience, 20.

Manou, the laws of, 49-54.

Melkarth — see Tyrian Hercules.

Messiah, the, fallacy of Baur's reason-
ing concerning, 241 — His two na-
tures, 251 — modifications produced
by His coming on the ancient reli-
gions of the world, 257.

Mysteries, the, 96 — their dogmas, 98.

Myth of Isis and Osiris, 32.

Mythology of the ancient Egyptians, 30;
of the ancient Greeks, 93-96.

Nature — man prostrates himself before,
18 — the twofold power manifested in,
19 — its worship is voluptuous and
barbarous, 19 — its religions disap-
pear before other creations of con-
science, 20.

Objections to the appreciation of Chris-
tianity, 240.

Olympic games, their celebration, 99.

Oriental Paganism — see Preparation of
Christianity in Paganism.

Origen, his allegorical interpretation of
the Song of Solomon, 238.

Ormuz and Ahriman, the gods of Per-
sia, 38-42.

Osiris — see Isis and Osiris.

Paganism, preparation of Christianity
in, 18.

Pelasgic mythology, 65 — community of
origin of the first inhabitants of
Greece and of the Aryans of Iran, 66
— the Hellcns divided into four fami-
lies, 67 — the same religion held by
the different tribes, 67-70 — simplicity
of the worship established by the
Pelasgians, 71.

Period of formation, 203 — God's pro-
mise to Abraham, 203 — the patriar-
chal period, 204 — the two epochs in
the history of Judaism, 205 — the
Mosaic dispensation embodied in the
Decalogue, 206 — predominance of
the legal element during the Mosaic
period, 206 — the two institutions of
priesthood and sacrifice, 207 — the
Israelites exclusively dedicated to
God, 208— the Mosaic ritual, 208—
institution of the priestly ofiice in
Aaron's family, 209 — the position
occupied by the priesthood, 209 —
reparation the idea of Jewish sacri-
fices, 210-212— the temple, 212 — the
four institutions of the preparatory
dispensation, 212, 213 — thegreat day
of atonement marks the gravity of
the fall and the generality of the cor-
ruption, 213 — the prophetic period,
213 — the nature of the prophetic in-
spiration a subject of constant debate,
214 — the promise of salvation, 216 —
Judaic prophecy prepared the way
for Christianity, 218.

Persian religion, the, 35 — the prayer of
prayers, 38 — Ormuz, 38-42 — caste
distinctions lax, 42 — the religious law
of the Persians a mixture of ma-
terial rules and moral ordinances,
44.

Pharisees, the sect of, 233.

Phœnicians, the, inventors of the art of
writing, 24 — their mytholigical sys-
tem, 25 — voluptuousness and death
blended in their rites, 25.

Plato and his philosophy, 115-130.

Plutarch, his work, 183.

Poets, ancient Greek, 82-88.

Prayer of prayers, the Persian, 38.

Preface to the English translation of
the Introduction, 1.

Preparation of Christianity in Pagan-
ism, 18.

Priest, ofiice of, in the Jewish economy,
209-211.

Prose writing, its advent in Greece, 88.

Raraayana, heroic poetry of, 59-61.

Redemption opened up to man access
to God, 258-261.

Religions of Nature, the, 18 — the two-
fold power of the forces of Nature,

268

INDEX.

19 — the worship of Nature is barbar-
ous and vohiptuous, 19.

Ilig Veda, a collection of sacred hymns,
45.

Eome, its rise and origin, 147 — pursuits
of the people, 148 — their religious
ideas, 149 — their mythology" not only
moral but historical, 150 — the decline
of ancient society owing to the con-
quest of Greece, 151 — its literature,
152.

Sacrifice of the cross, the sinner's sal-
vation, 253.

Sadducees, the, 233.

Scripture testimony to the two natures
of the Redeemer, 251, 256, 257.

Sculpture, its rapid progress in Greece,
90-93.

Scythians, their gods Papaios and Ta-
hiti, 22.

Slaves in ancient Rome, 158, 159,

Soma, the symbol of the liquid element,
46.

Song of Solomon, allegorical interpre-
tation of, 238.
Socrates, his mission, 108-114.
Sophocles, his tragic poems, 86.
Stoicism, 178.

Tyrian Hercules, the, his twofold as-
pect, 26.

Vischnou, the god, 59-61.

Women, degi-adation of, in pagan
w^orship, 24, 25; in Rome, 160,
161.

Women exalted in a high degree in the
Laws of Manou, 51.

World, the ancient, its consciousness
that a union between divinity and
humanity was only possible by means
of a reparation, 249, 250 — modifica-
tions produced by Christ's coming
upon its religious institutions, 257.

Writing, the first elements of, found in
Egyptian hieroglyphics, 33.

.MURK AY AND G IBB. PRES'TEKS, EDINBURGH.

T. and T. Claries Publications.

(TEMPORARY) CHEAP RE-ISSUE OP

STIER'S WORDS OF THE LORD JESUS.

To meet a very general desire that this now well-known Work should be
brought more within the reach of all classes, both Clerofy and Laity, Messrs.
Clark are now issuing, for a limited period, the Eicjht Volumes, handsomely
bound in Four^ at the Subscription price of

Kir

TWO GUINEAS.

As the allowance to the Trade must necessarily be small, orders sent either
direct or through booksellers must in every case be accompanied with a Post
Office Order for the above amount.

' The "whole work is a treasury of thouo:htful exposition. Its measure of practical and
spiritual application, with exegetical criticism, commends it to the use of those whose duty
it is to preach as well as to understand the Gospel of Christ.' — Guardian.

New and Cheap Edition, in Four Vols., Demy 8vo, Subscription price 28s.

THE LIFE OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST:

A Complete Critical Examination of the Origin, Contents, and Connection of
the Gospels. Translated from the German of J. P. Lange, D.D., Professor
of Divinity in the University of Bonn. Edited, with additional Notes, by
Marcus Dods, D.D.

'We have arrived at a most favourable conclusion regarding the importance and ability
of this work — the former depending upon the present condition of theological criticism,
the latter on the wide range of the work itself; the singularly dispassionate judgment
of the author, as well as his pious, reverential, and erudite treatment of a subject inex-
pressibly holy. . . . "We have great pleasure in recommending this work to our readers.
\Ve are convinced of its value and enormous range.' — Irish Ecclesiastical Gazette.

BENGEL'S GNOMON-CHEAP EDITION.

GNOMON OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.

By John Albert Bexgel. Now First Translated into English. With
Original Notes, Explanatory and Illustrative. Edited by the Rev.
Andrew R. Fausset, M. A. The Original Translation was in Five Large
Volumes, demy 8vo, averaging more than 550 pages each, and the very
great demand for this edition has induced the Publishers to issue the
Five Volumes bound in Three^ at the Subscription price of

TWENTY-FOUR SHILLINGS.

They trust by this still further to increase its usefulness.

' It is a work which manifests the most intimate and profound knowledge of Scripture,
and which, if we examine it with care, will often be found to condense more matter into
a line than can be extracted from many pages of other writers.' — Archdeacon Hare.

'In respect both of its contents and its tone, Bengel's Gnomon stands alone. Even
among laymen there has arisen a healthy and vigorous desire for Scriptural knowledge,
and Bengel has done more than any other man to aid such inquirers. There is perhaps
no book every word of which has been so well weighed, or in which a single technical
term contains so often far-reaching and suggestive views. . . . The theoretical and
practical are as intimately connected as light and heat in the sun's ray.' — Life of Perthes.

T. and T. Clark's Pitblications.

In Twenty-four Handsome Svo Vo/i/mes, Subscription Price ;£6, 6s. od.,

A COLLECTION OF ALL THE WOEKS OF THE FATHEES OF THE
CHRISTIAN CHUECH PEIOE TO THE COUNCIL OF NIC^A.

EDITED BY THE

REV. ALEXANDER ROBERTS, D.D., AND JAMES DONALDSON, LL.D.

MESSRS. CLARK are now happy to announce the completion of this Series.
It has been received with marked approval by all sections of the
Christian Church in this country and in the United States, as supplying what
has long been felt to be a want, and also on account of the impartiality, learn-
ing, and care with which Editors and Translators have executed a very difficult
task.

The Pubhshers do not bind themselves to continue to supply the Series at the
Subscription price.

The AVorks are arranged as follow : —

FIRST YEAR.

APOSTOLIC FATHEES, comprising
Clement's Epistles to the Corinthians ;
Pol5'carp to the Ephesians ; Martyr-
dom of Polycarp ; Epistle of Barnabas ;
Epistles of Ignatius (longer and shorter,
and also the Syriac version) ; Martyr-
dom of Ignatius ; Epistle to Diognetus ;
Pastor of Hermas ; Papias ; Spurious
Epistles of Isnatius. In One Volume.

JUSTIN MAETYE; ATHENAGOEAS.
In One Volume.

TATIAN; THEOPHILUS; THE CLE-
mentiueEecognitions. In OneVolume.

CLEMENT OF ALEXANDEIA, Volume
First, comprising Exhortation to Hea-
then ; The Instructor ; and a portion
of the Miscellanies.

SECOND YEAR.

HIPPOLYTUS, Volume First; Eefutation
of all Heresies, and Fragments from
his Commentaries.

lEEN^US, Volume First.

TEETULLIAN AGAINST MAECION.

CYPEIAN, Volume First; the Epistles,
and some of the Treatises.

THIRD YEAR.

lEEN^US (completion) ; HIPPOLYTUS
(completion) ; Fragments of Third
Century. In One Volume.

OEIGEN : De Principiis ; Letters ; and
portion of Treatise against Celsus.

CLEMENT OF ALEXANDEIA, Volume
Second ; Completion of Miscellanies.

TEETULLIAN, Volume First : To the
Martyrs ; Apology ; To the Nations,
etc.

FOURTH YEAR.

CYPEIAN, Volume Second (completion);

Novatian ; Minucius Felix; Fragments.
METHODIUS; ALEXANDEE OF LY-

copolis ; Peter of Alexandria ; Anato-

lius ; Clement on Virginity ; and

Fragments.
TEETULLIAN, Volume Second.
APOCEYPHAL GOSPELS; ACTS AND

Eevelations, comprising all the very

curious Apocryphal Writings of the

first Three Centuries.

FIFTH YEAR.

TEETULLIAN, Volume Third (comple-
tion).

CLEMENTINE HOMILIES; APOSTO-
lical Constitutions. In One Volume.

AENOBIUS.

DIONYSIUS; GEEGOEY THAUMA-
turgus ; Syrian Fragments. In One
Volume.

SIXTH YEAR.

LACTANTIUS ; Two Volumes.

OEIGEN, Volume Second (completion).
12s. to Non-Subscribers.

EAELY LITUEGIES AND EEMAIN-
ing Fragments. 9s. to Non-Subscri-
bers.

Single Years cannot be had separately, unless to complete sets ; but any Volume
may be had separately, price lOs. 6d., — with the exception of Okigen, Vol. IL, 12s. ;
and the Early Liturgies, 9s.

T. and T. Clark's Publications.

EDITED BY MARCUS DODS, D.D.

SUBSCRIPTION:

Four Volumes for a Guinea, payable in advance (24s. when not paid

in advance).

FIRST YEAR.

THE ' CITY OF GOD.' Two Volumes.
WRITINGS IN CONNECTION WITH

the Donatist Controversy. In One

Volume.
THE ANTI-PELAGIAN WORKS OF

St. Augustine. Vol. I.

SECOND YEAR.

'LETTERS.' Vol. L
TREATISES AGAINST F AU S TUS
the Manichaean. One Volume.

THE HARMONY OP THE EVAN-
gelists, and the Sermon on the Mount.
One Volume.

ON THE TRINITY. One Volume.

THIRD YEAR.

First Issue.

COMMENTARY ON JOHN. Vol. I.
ON CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE, EN-
chiridion, etc. One Volume.

Messrs. Clark believe this wiU prove not the least valuable of their various
Series, and no pains will be spared to make it so. The Editor has secured a
most competent staff of Translators, and every care is being taken to secure
not only accuracy, but elegance.

The Works of St. Augustine to be included in the Series are (in addition to
the above) —

The remaining Treatises in the Pelagian Controversy. •

The Lectures on the Gospel of St. John, Vol. II., and the Confessions.

The Series wiU include a LIFE of ST. AUGUSTINE, by ROBERT RAINY, D.D.,
Professor of Church History, New CoUege, Edinburgh.

The Series will extend to about Eighteen Volumes. The Publishers will be
glad to receive the Names of Subscribers as early as possible.

It is understood that Subscribers are bound to take at least the books of the
first two years. Each Volume is sold separately at (on an average) 10s. 6d.

' For the reproduction of the " City of God " in an admirable English garb we are
greatly indebted to the well-directed enterprise and energy of Messrs. Clark, and to the
accuracy and scholarship of those who have undertaken the laborious task of translation.'
— Christian Observtr.

' The present translation reads smoothly and pleasantly, and we have every reason to
be satisfied both v/ith the erudition and the fair and sound judgment displayed by the
translators and the editor.' — John Bull.

T, and T. Clarlc s Publications.

LANG E'S
COMMENTARIES ON THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS.

Messrs. CLARK have now pleasure in intimating tlieir arrangements, under
the Editorship of Dr. Philip Schaff, for the Publication of Translations of
the Commentaries of Dr. Lange and his Collaborateurs on the Old and New
Testaments.

There are now ready (in imperial 8vo, double columns), price 21s. per
Volume,

OLD TESTAMENT, Six Volumes :
COMMENTARY ON THE BOOK OF GENESIS, in One Volume.
COMMENTARY ON JOSHUA, JUDGES, AND RUTH, in One

Vohime.

COMMENTARY ON THE BOOKS OF KINGS, in One Volume.
COMMENTARY ON THE PSALMS, in One Volume.
COMMENTARY ON PROVERBS, ECCLESIASTES, AND

THE SONG OF SOLOMON, in One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON JEREMIAH AND LAMENTATIONS,

in One Volume.
The other Books of the Old Testament are in active preparation, and will be
announced as soon as ready.

NEW TESTAMENT, Ten Volumes :
COMMENTARY ON THE GOSPEL OF ST. MATTHEW, in

One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE GOSPELS OF ST. MARK and ST.

LUKE, in One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN, in One

Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES, in

One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLE OF ST. PAUL TO THE

EO:\IANS, in One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLES OF ST. PAUL TO THE

CORINTHIANS, in One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLES OF ST. PAUL TO THE

GALATIANS. EPHESIANS, PHILIPPIANS, and COLOSSIANS, in One Vol.

COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLES TO THE THESSA-

LONIANS, TIMOTHY, TITUS, PHILEMON, and HEBREWS, in One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLES OF JAMES, PETER,

JOHN, and JUDE, in One Volume.

COMMENTARY ON THE BOOK OF REVELATION, in One

Volume (in the press).

The price to Subscribers to the Foreign Theological Library, St. Augustine's
Works, and Ante-Kicene Library, or to Purchasers of Complete Sets of the
Commentary (so far as published), will be

FIFTEEN SHILLINGS PER VOLUME.

Dr. Lange's Commentary on the Gospels and Acts (without Dr. Schaff's
Notes) is also published in the Foreign Theological Library, in Nine Volumes
demy 8vo, and may be had in that form if desired. (For particulars, see List
of Foreign Theological Library.)

T. and T. Clark's Publications.

MEYER'S

Commentary on the New Testament.

I

M

ESSRS. CLARK beg to announce that they have in course of
preparation a Translation of the well-known and justly esteemed

CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL

COMMENTARY ON THE NEW TESTAMENT,

B y D r. H. A. \V. MEYER,
Oberconsistorialrath, Hanover,

Of which they have just published —

ROMANS, Vol. I.
GALATIANS, One Volume.

The Subscription will be 21s. for Four Volumes Demy 8vo.

By arrangement with Dr. Meyer, Messrs. Clark have obtained the sole right
of translation into English, and they have the very great advantage of Dr.
Meyer's emendations to the time of his death. In order to secure perfect
accuracy, the Publishers have placed the whole work under the editorial care of
Rev. Dr. Dickson, Professor of Divinity in the University of Glasgow.

The Volumes will vary in number of pages according to the size of the
original, but an average of about 400 pages may be assumed. Each Volume
will be sold separately at (on an average) 10s. 6d. to Non- Subscribers.

Intending Subscribers will be kind enough to fill up the accompanying
Form, which may be returned, either direct to the Publishers at 38 George
Street, Edinburgh, or through their own Booksellers.

' I need hardly add that the last edition of the accurate, perspicuous, and learned com-
mentary of Dr. Meyer has been most carefully consulted throughout; and 1 must again,
as in the preface to the Galatians, avow my great obligations to the acumen and scholar-
ship of the learned editor.' — Bishop Ellicot in Preface to his Commentary on Ephesians.

' The ablest grammatical exegete of the age.' — Philip Schaff, D.D.

(

I

Jir.

BOOKSELLER,

Will please enter my Name as a Subscriber., and forward^ as published,
the above Translation of

MEYER'S COMME NTARIES.

T. and T. Clark' s Ptiblications,

CLARK'S FOEEIGN THEOLOGICAL LIBRARY— Con^mwed

Dr. Borner. — History of the Development of the Doctrine of the Person of Christ.
By Dr. J. A. Dorner, Professor of Theology in the University of Berlin.
Five Vols. (£2, 12s. 6d.)

Lange and Dr. J. J. Van Oosterzee. — Theological and Homiletical Commentary on
the Gospel of St. Luke. Specially Designed and Adapted for the Use of
Ministers and Students. Edited by J. P. La:vge, D.D. Two Vols. (18s.)

Dr. Ebrard. — The Gospel History: A Compendium of Critical Investigations in

support of the Historical Character of the Four Gospels. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Lange, Lechler, and Gerok. — Theological and Homiletical Commentary on the

Acts of the Apostles. Edited by Dr. Lange. Two Vols. (21s.)
Dr. Hengstenberg. — Commentary on the Gospel of St. John. Two Vols. (21s.)
Professor Keil. — Biblical Commentary on the Pentateuch. Three Vols. (31s. 6d.)
Professor Keil. — Commentary on Joshua, Judges, and Kuth. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Professor Delitzsch. — A System of Biblical Psychology. One Vol. (12s.)
Professor Delitzsch. — Commentajry on the Prophecies of Isaiah. Two Vols. (21s.)
Professor Keil. — Commentary on the Books of Samuel. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Professor Delitzsch. — Commentary on the Book of Job. Two Vols. (21s.)
Bishop Martensen. — Christian Dogmatics. A Compendium of the Doctrines of

Christianity. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Dr. J. P. Lange. — Critical, Doctrinal, and Homiletical Commentary on the Gospel

of St. John. Two Vols. (21s.)
Professor Keil. — Commentary on the Minor Prophets. Two Vols. (21s.)
Professor Delitzsch. — Commentary on Epistle to the Hebrews. Vol. J. (10s. 6d.)
Dr. Harless. — A System of Christian Ethics. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Dr. Hengstenberg. — Commentary on Ezekiel. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Dr. Stier. — The Words of the Apostles Expounded. One Vol. (10s. 6d.)
Professor Keil. — Introduction to the Old Testament. Vol. I. (10s 6d.)
Professor Bleek. — Introduction to the New Testament. Vol. I. (10s. 6d.)

And., in connection with the Series —

Alexander's Commentary on Isaiah. Two Volumes. (17s.)

Ritter's (Carl) Comparative Geography of Palestine. Four Volumes. (32s.)

Shedd's History of Christian Doctrine. Two Volumes. (21s.)

Macdonald's Introduction to the Pentateuch. Two Volumes. (21s.)

Ackerman on the Christian Element in Plato. (7s. 6d.)

Robinson's Greek Lexicon of the New Testament. 8vo. (9s.)

Gerlach's Commentary on the Pentateuch. 8vo. (10s. 6d.)

The series, in 120 Volumes (including 1873), price £31, IDs., forms an Apparatus,
without which it may be truly said no Theological Library can be complete ; and the Pub-
lishers take the liberty of suggesting that no more appropriate gift could be presented to
a Clergyman than the Series, in whole or in part.

*^* hi reference to the above, it must be noted that no duplicates can he included in the
Selection of Twenty Volumes ; and it will save trouble and correspondence if it he
■distinctly understood that NO less number than Twenty can he supplied, unless at
non-subscription pi'ice.

Subscribers' Names received by all Retail Booksellers.
London : {For Works at Non-subscription price only) Hamilton, Adams, & Co.

Si

Q

H

(Xi

-F

P
'«-♦

L

4:;

9

c

.«J

rfi

o

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
LIBRARY

Acme Library Card Pocket

Under Pat. " Ref. Index File."
Made by LIBRARY BUREAU

* 4

f " -€'

t-^ rr

•. ■■^'^V • <-;'*

«v^

'^

m^'.^'x*

1

L

r

^ ...-^

t'\t

^ t-'"^f'

:î^- f^

f .«*: •-• .«^.''^ ^,- ^;.-