FROM what we gather from the records of the early Church, in the first days of Christianity, “not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble," professed the faith. In a very marked way the Christian faith prevailed amongst the poor and the simple, and by the testimony of Christ dwelling in the heart by faith, rather than by the words of accredited wisdom, were souls won to God. “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised hath God chosen, yea and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are”; and in a most remarkable way this was made evident in the first days of Christianity. But by degrees the Christian faith reached upwards in society, slaves led their masters to Christ, and the common people influenced those who were superior to them in education, hence the Christian faith extended not only over a large part of the world, but in a variety of circles, until it was impossible for the heathen governments and rulers not to take it into account.
Christianity was an illegal religion, and was opposed by the state, and one which was frequently the object of the hatred of the mob. Early in the second century Christians generally came under the direct censure of the law, and were open to punishment. And though they were protected from unjust accusations, yet the law was such that at any time the Christian might be called to die for his faith, and in different localities there were severe persecutions, and many a martyr for Christ's Name earned the crown.
Whether the wise men, who at this time were to be found in the ranks of the Christians, advanced the truth of God by their arguments on the parallels existing between the teachings of the pagan philosophers and the truths taught by Christians, is more than doubtful, certainly if such arguments pleased the pagan world they could not benefit the Church of God. Light and darkness can have no fellowship. Whoever attempts to level up heathenism to true Christianity, merely succeeds in lowering Christianity. Tertullian's statement, “the human soul is naturally Christian," is one which practically denies the fall of man from God, and the salvation of God for man.
A very remarkable change had occurred in the heathen world about the time which we are now contemplating. Kindness and honor were largely accepted as right. The condition of slaves was amended, free labor gained ground, and institutions arose for the benefit of poor children. And in the emperor, Marcus Aurelius, Rome had one of her best rulers. He required of himself, that he should be just and true to others, and that he should follow the voice of his conscience, let men say what they would. He would spend days in investigating the right and wrong of a case, and he labored to do none an injury.
Let us then present to our minds heathenism in these favorable and amiable aspects, so absolutely different from the view which we presented in our last sketch, when the Emperor Nero and the bloodthirsty brutality of his day were before us. What do we think heathen justice and kindness would say to the Christian faith? It was precisely when heathen society was in this kindly mood, and when tine emperor who ruled in Rome was so good, that the decree issued for the persecution of Christians generally was more than before “barbarously cruel." Such as should accuse Christians were to have the property of the accused, with the result that the Christians, simply because they were Christians, were often executed with the grossest cruelty, and their property divided amongst their enemies.
Every horrible iniquity was falsely imputed to the Christian, so that to say, “I am a Chris-tiara," was undoubtedly to earn torture and death. The sword slew the Roman citizen who named the name of Christ, and those who could not claim the citizenship were cast to the wild beasts.
This awful persecution was general and widespread—indeed, the heathen exulted, that if one or two Christians were left wandering in secret they were being sought out to be punished with death.
The times of refinement and kindliness had produced a deeper and more determined effort to get rid of the name of Christ from the earth than those of the most resolute profligacy.
What adds intensely to the awful character of this hatred to the living God is the fact that the movers and originators of the persecution knew the theory of the gospel. Christian books had been studied, Christian doctrines were understood. The hatred to God and His people of the amiable and kindly human mind proved the worst hatred of all.
The decree, enabling the accusers of the Christians to take their goods, which led to their general persecution, was followed by a period of partial ease, but only to be succeeded in the year 250 by a persecution more terrible than before. The Emperor Decius attempted to bring back Rome to its ancient pagan splendor, and in so doing, sought to root out Christianity from the empire. All Christians, without exception, were required to perform the rites of the religion of the State. Should they refuse they were to be tortured into submission. The magistrates were to fix a date in all their localities, and on that day the Christians were to appear and to sacrifice to the gods.
Here we pause for a moment. The Church was not in those days the simple and holy living body of apostolic times. It was also, as it is in our day, divided in itself, and strange doctrines and heresies prevailed. There were those who lamented both the worldliness and the laxity that were so common, and, who before this awful decree was issued, had anticipated some great sorrow as a judgment from God upon His House.
The Church then, as now, numbered in its ranks hosts of merely nominal Christians, and, if the heathen temples were so largely deserted, the churches were largely filled with men who were at heart afar from Christ.
But when the decree was made, numbers hastened to offer incense to the gods, while many, who in the terror of the awful hour dared neither sacrifice to the gods nor be sacrificed for Christ, were seized with horror, which often ended in madness.
But God overruled these evils to His own glory—the devil's sieve became the means of separating the chaff from the wheat, and for giving greater purity within the Church ; the policy of bloodshed failed, and the emperors recognized the failure ; the Church arose out of the fire, and prospered. Once more there was rest. Once more the numbers of the Christians increased. Old paganism in the Roman Empire was falling!
The persecution under Decius was even exceeded by that which commenced under Diocletian. This was the last great struggle of the heathen to overthrow Christianity in the Roman Empire. At this time it is computed that possibly a twentieth part of the people were Christian by profession—that is, they were not heathen—so that the Church was a great power of its own in opposition to heathenism. The edict commanded that all Christian churches should be destroyed, and Christian books burned. Thus was the axe laid to the roots of the tree of Christian knowledge.
Tortures of the most desperate cruelty were inflicted upon the Christians, and every effort was made to lead them to offer to the gods, even were the offerings but a grain of salt or a pinch of incense. Christians were slowly burned, limb by limb, and the bodies of those who were slain by other means were left exposed for the dogs to eat, and this continued with greater or less intensity for some years, until at length the then emperor had to own the failure of persecution to destroy the faith, and from his dying bed he issued an edict, which brought it to an end. This was A.D. 311. The policy of persecution had failed; wild beasts, fire and sword had but aided the growth of the Christian faith.