{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_39535/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_39535","id":"gutenberg_39535","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39535","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - European","Category: History - Religious","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Ethics","Europe -- Moral conditions"],"text":"History of\n\n                             European Morals\n\n                       From Augustus to Charlemagne\n\n                                    By\n\n                   William Edward Hartpole Lecky, M.A.\n\n                              Ninth Edition\n\n                              In Two Volumes\n\n                                 Vol. 2.\n\n                                  London\n\n                         Longmans, Green, And Co.\n\n                                   1890\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nChapter IV. From Constantine To Charlemagne.\nChapter V. The Position Of Women.\nIndex.\nFootnotes\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. FROM CONSTANTINE TO CHARLEMAGNE.\n\n\nHaving in the last chapter given a brief, but I trust not altogether\nindistinct, account of the causes that ensured the triumph of Christianity\nin Rome, and of the character of the opposition it overcame, I proceed to\nexamine the nature of the moral ideal the new religion introduced, and\nalso the methods by which it attempted to realise it. And at the very\noutset of this enquiry it is necessary to guard against a serious error.\nIt is common with many persons to establish a comparison between\nChristianity and Paganism, by placing the teaching of the Christians in\njuxtaposition with corresponding passages from the writings of Marcus\nAurelius or Seneca, and to regard the superiority of the Christian over\nthe philosophical teaching as a complete measure of the moral advance that\nwas effected by Christianity. But a moment\u2019s reflection is sufficient to\ndisplay the injustice of such a conclusion. The ethics of Paganism were\npart of a philosophy. The ethics of Christianity were part of a religion.\nThe first were the speculations of a few highly cultivated individuals and\nneither had nor could have had any direct influence upon the masses of\nmankind. The second were indissolubly connected with the worship, hopes,\nand fears of a vast religious system, that acts at least as powerfully on\nthe most ignorant as on the most educated. The chief objects of Pagan\nreligions were to foretell the future, to explain the universe, to avert\ncalamity, to obtain the assistance of the gods. They contained no\ninstruments of moral teaching analogous to our institution of preaching,\nor to the moral preparation for the reception of the sacrament, or to\nconfession, or to the reading of the Bible, or to religious education, or\nto united prayer for spiritual benefits. To make men virtuous was no more\nthe function of the priest than of the physician. On the other hand, the\nphilosophic expositions of duty were wholly unconnected with the religious\nceremonies of the temple. To amalgamate these two spheres, to incorporate\nmoral culture with religion, and thus to enlist in behalf of the former\nthat desire to enter, by means of ceremonial observances, into direct\ncommunication with Heaven, which experience has shown to be one of the\nmost universal and powerful passions of mankind, was among the most\nimportant achievements of Christianity. Something had, no doubt, been\nalready attempted in this direction. Philosophy, in the hands of the\nrhetoricians, had become more popular. The Pythagoreans enjoined religious\nceremonies for the purpose of purifying the mind, and expiatory rites were\ncommon, especially in the Oriental religions. But it was the\ndistinguishing characteristic of Christianity that its moral influence was\nnot indirect, casual, remote, or spasmodic. Unlike all Pagan religions, it\nmade moral teaching a main function of its clergy, moral discipline the\nleading object of its services, moral dispositions the necessary condition\nof the due performance of its rites. By the pulpit, by its ceremonies, by\nall the agencies of power it possessed, it laboured systematically and\nperseveringly for the regeneration of mankind. Under its influence,\ndoctrines concerning the nature of God, the immortality of the soul, and\nthe duties of man, which the noblest intellects of antiquity could barely\ngrasp, have become the truisms of the village school, the proverbs of the\ncottage and of the alley.\n\nBut neither the beauty of its sacred writings, nor the perfection of its\nreligious services, could have achieved this great result without the\nintroduction of new motives to virtue. These may be either interested or\ndisinterested, and in both spheres the influence of Christianity was very\ngreat. In the first, it effected a complete revolution by its teaching\nconcerning the future world and concerning the nature of sin. The doctrine\nof a future life was far too vague among the Pagans to exercise any\npowerful general influence, and among the philosophers who clung to it\nmost ardently it was regarded solely in the light of a consolation.\nChristianity made it a deterrent influence of the strongest kind. In\naddition to the doctrines of eternal suffering, and the lost condition of\nthe human race, the notion of a minute personal retribution must be\nregarded as profoundly original. That the commission of great crimes, or\nthe omission of great duties, may be expiated hereafter, was indeed an\nidea familiar to the Pagans, though it exercised little influence over\ntheir lives, and seldom or never produced, even in the case of the worst\ncriminals, those scenes of deathbed repentance which are so conspicuous in\nChristian biographies. But the Christian notion of the enormity of little\nsins, the belief that all the details of life will be scrutinised\nhereafter, that weaknesses of character and petty infractions of duty, of\nwhich the historian and the biographer take no note, which have no\nperceptible influence upon society, and which scarcely elicit a comment\namong mankind, may be made the grounds of eternal condemnation beyond the\ngrave, was altogether unknown to the ancients, and, at a time when it\npossessed all the freshness of novelty, it was well fitted to transform\nthe character. The eye of the Pagan philosopher was ever fixed upon\nvirtue, the eye of the Christian teacher upon sin. They first sought to\namend men by extolling the beauty of holiness; the second by awakening the\nsentiment of remorse. Each method had its excellences and its defects.\nPhilosophy was admirably fitted to dignify and ennoble, but altogether\nimpotent to regenerate, mankind. It did much to encourage virtue, but\nlittle or nothing to restrain vice. A relish or taste for virtue was\nformed and cultivated, which attracted many to its practice; but in this,\nas in the case of all our other higher tastes, a nature that was once\nthoroughly vitiated became altogether incapable of appreciating it, and\nthe transformation of such a nature, which was continually effected by\nChristianity, was confessedly beyond the power of philosophy.(1)\nExperience has abundantly shown that men who are wholly insensible to the\nbeauty and dignity of virtue, can be convulsed by the fear of judgment,\ncan be even awakened to such a genuine remorse for sin as to reverse the\ncurrent of their dispositions, detach them from the most inveterate\nhabits, and renew the whole tenor of their lives.\n\nBut the habit of dilating chiefly on the darker side of human nature,\nwhile it has contributed much to the regenerating efficacy of Christian\nteaching, has not been without its disadvantages. Habitually measuring\ncharacter by its aberrations, theologians, in their estimates of those\nstrong and passionate natures in which great virtues are balanced by great\nfailings, have usually fallen into a signal injustice, which is the more\ninexcusable, because in their own writings the Psalms of David are a\nconspicuous proof of what a noble, tender, and passionate nature could\nsurvive, even in an adulterer and a murderer. Partly, too, through this\nhabit of operating through the sense of sin, and partly from a desire to\nshow that man is in an abnormal and dislocated condition, they have\ncontinually propounded distorted and degrading views of human nature, have\nrepresented it as altogether under the empire of evil, and have sometimes\nrisen to such a height of extravagance as to pronounce the very virtues of\nthe heathen to be of the nature of sin. But nothing can be more certain\nthan that that which is exceptional and distinctive in human nature is not\nits vice, but its excellence. It is not the sensuality, cruelty,\nselfishness, passion, or envy, which are all displayed in equal or greater\ndegrees in different departments of the animal world; it is that moral\nnature which enables man apparently, alone of all created beings, to\nclassify his emotions, to oppose the current of his desires, and to aspire\nafter moral perfection. Nor is it less certain that in civilised, and\ntherefore developed man, the good greatly preponderates over the evil.\nBenevolence is more common than cruelty; the sight of suffering more\nreadily produces pity than joy; gratitude, not ingratitude, is the normal\nresult of a conferred benefit. The sympathies of man naturally follow\nheroism and goodness, and vice itself is usually but an exaggeration or\ndistortion of tendencies that are in their own nature perfectly innocent.\n\nBut these exaggerations of human depravity, which have attained their\nextreme limits in some Protestant sects, do not appear in the Church of\nthe first three centuries. The sense of sin was not yet accompanied by a\ndenial of the goodness that exists in man. Christianity was regarded\nrather as a redemption from error than from sin,(2) and it is a\nsignificant fact that the epithet \u201cwell deserving,\u201d which the Pagans\nusually put upon their tombs, was also the favourite inscription in the\nChristian catacombs. The Pelagian controversy, the teaching of St.\nAugustine, and the progress of asceticism, gradually introduced the\ndoctrine of the utter depravity of man, which has proved in later times\nthe fertile source of degrading superstition.\n\nIn sustaining and defining the notion of sin, the early Church employed\nthe machinery of an elaborate legislation. Constant communion with the\nChurch was regarded as of the very highest importance. Participation in\nthe Sacrament was believed to be essential to eternal life. At a very\nearly period it was given to infants, and already in the time of St.\nCyprian we find the practice universal in the Church, and pronounced by at\nleast some of the Fathers to be ordinarily necessary to their\nsalvation.(3) Among the adults it was customary to receive the Sacrament\ndaily, in some churches four times a week.(4) Even in the days of\npersecution the only part of their service the Christians consented to\nomit was the half-secular agape.(5) The clergy had power to accord or\nwithhold access to the ceremonies, and the reverence with which they were\nregarded was so great that they were able to dictate their own conditions\nof communion.\n\nFrom these circumstances there very naturally arose a vast system of moral\ndiscipline. It was always acknowledged that men could only rightly\napproach the sacred table in certain moral dispositions, and it was very\nsoon added that the commission of crimes should be expiated by a period of\npenance, before access to the communion was granted. A multitude of\noffences, of very various degrees of magnitude, such as prolonged\nabstinence from religious services, prenuptial unchastity, prostitution,\nadultery, the adoption of the profession of gladiator or actor, idolatry,\nthe betrayal of Christians to persecutors, and paiderastia or unnatural\nlove, were specified, to each of which a definite spiritual penalty was\nannexed. The lowest penalty consisted of deprivation of the Eucharist for\na few weeks. More serious offenders were deprived of it for a year, or for\nten years, or until the hour of death, while in some cases the sentence\namounted to the greater excommunication, or the deprivation of the\nEucharist for ever. During the period of penance the penitent was\ncompelled to abstain from the marriage-bed, and from all other pleasures,\nand to spend his time chiefly in religious exercises. Before he was\nreadmitted to communion, he was accustomed publicly, before the assembled\nChristians, to appear clad in sackcloth, with ashes strewn upon his head,\nwith his hair shaven off, and thus to throw himself at the feet of the\nminister, to confess aloud his sins, and to implore the favour of\nabsolution. The excommunicated man was not only cut off for ever from the\nChristian rites; he was severed also from all intercourse with his former\nfriends. No Christian, on pain of being himself excommunicated, might eat\nwith him or speak with him. He must live hated and alone in this world,\nand be prepared for damnation in the next.(6)\n\nThis system of legislation, resting upon religious terrorism, forms one of\nthe most important parts of early ecclesiastical history, and a leading\nobject of the Councils was to develop or modify it. Although confession\nwas not yet an habitual and universally obligatory rite, although it was\nonly exacted in cases of notorious sins, it is manifest that we have in\nthis system, not potentially or in germ, but in full developed activity,\nan ecclesiastical despotism of the most crushing order. But although this\nrecognition of the right of the clergy to withhold from men what was\nbelieved to be essential to their salvation, laid the foundation of the\nworst superstitions of Rome, it had, on the other hand, a very valuable\nmoral effect. Every system of law is a system of education, for it fixes\nin the minds of men certain conceptions of right and wrong, and of the\nproportionate enormity of different crimes; and no legislation was\nenforced with more solemnity, or appealed more directly to the religious\nfeelings, than the penitential discipline of the Church. More than,\nperhaps, any other single agency, it confirmed that conviction of the\nenormity of sin, and of the retribution that follows it, which was one of\nthe two great levers by which Christianity acted upon mankind.\n\nBut if Christianity was remarkable for its appeals to the selfish or\ninterested side of our nature, it was far more remarkable for the empire\nit attained over disinterested enthusiasm. The Platonist exhorted men to\nimitate God; the Stoic, to follow reason; the Christian, to the love of\nChrist. The later Stoics had often united their notions of excellence in\nan ideal sage, and Epictetus had even urged his disciples to set before\nthem some man of surpassing excellence, and to imagine him continually\nnear them; but the utmost the Stoic ideal could become was a model for\nimitation, and the admiration it inspired could never deepen into\naffection. It was reserved for Christianity to present to the world an\nideal character, which through all the changes of eighteen centuries has\ninspired the hearts of men with an impassioned love; has shown itself\ncapable of acting on all ages, nations, temperaments, and conditions; has\nbeen not only the highest pattern of virtue but the strongest incentive to\nits practice; and has exercised so deep an influence that it may be truly\nsaid that the simple record of three short years of active life has done\nmore to regenerate and to soften mankind than all the disquisitions of\nphilosophers, and all the exhortations of moralists. This has indeed been\nthe well-spring of whatever is best and purest in the Christian life. Amid\nall the sins and failings, amid all the priestcraft and persecution and\nfanaticism that have defaced the Church, it has preserved, in the\ncharacter and example of its Founder, an enduring principle of\nregeneration. Perfect love knows no rights. It creates a boundless,\nuncalculating self-abnegation that transforms the character, and is the\nparent of every virtue. Side by side with the terrorism and the\nsuperstitions of dogmatism, there have ever existed in Christianity those\nwho would echo the wish of St. Theresa, that she could blot out both\nheaven and hell, to serve God for Himself alone; and the power of the love\nof Christ has been displayed alike in the most heroic pages of Christian\nmartyrdom, in the most pathetic pages of Christian resignation, in the\ntenderest pages of Christian charity. It was shown by the martyrs who sank\nbeneath the fangs of wild beasts, extending to the last moment their arms\nin the form of the cross they loved;(7) who ordered their chains to be\nburied with them as the insignia of their warfare;(8) who looked with joy\nupon their ghastly wounds, because they had been received for Christ;(9)\nwho welcomed death as the bridegroom welcomes the bride, because it would\nbring them near to Him. St. Felicitas was seized with the pangs of\nchildbirth as she lay in prison awaiting the hour of martyrdom, and as her\nsufferings extorted from her a cry, one who stood by said, \u201cIf you now\nsuffer so much, what will it be when you are thrown to wild beasts?\u201d \u201cWhat\nI now suffer,\u201d she answered, \u201cconcerns myself alone; but then another will\nsuffer for me, for I will then suffer for Him.\u201d(10) When St. Melania had\nlost both her husband and her two sons, kneeling by the bed where the\nremains of those she loved were laid, the childless widow exclaimed,\n\u201cLord, I shall serve Thee more humbly and readily for being eased of the\nweight Thou hast taken from me.\u201d(11)\n\nChristian virtue was described by St. Augustine as \u201cthe order of\nlove.\u201d(12) Those who know how imperfectly the simple sense of duty can\nwith most men resist the energy of the passions; who have observed how\nbarren Mohammedanism has been in all the higher and more tender virtues,\nbecause its noble morality and its pure theism have been united with no\nliving example; who, above all, have traced through the history of the\nChristian Church the influence of the love of Christ, will be at no loss\nto estimate the value of this purest and most distinctive source of\nChristian enthusiasm. In one respect we can scarcely realise its effects\nupon the early Church. The sense of the fixity of natural laws is now so\ndeeply implanted in the minds of men, that no truly educated person,\nwhatever may be his religious opinions, seriously believes that all the\nmore startling phenomena around him\u2014storms, earthquakes, invasions, or\nfamines\u2014are results of isolated acts of supernatural power, and are\nintended to affect some human interest. But by the early Christians all\nthese things were directly traced to the Master they so dearly loved. The\nresult of this conviction was a state of feeling we can now barely\nunderstand. A great poet, in lines which are among the noblest in English\nliterature, has spoken of one who had died as united to the all-pervading\nsoul of nature, the grandeur and the tenderness, the beauty and the\npassion of his being blending with the kindred elements of the universe,\nhis voice heard in all its melodies, his spirit a presence to be felt and\nknown, a part of the one plastic energy that permeates and animates the\nglobe. Something of this kind, but of a far more vivid and real character,\nwas the belief of the early Christian world. The universe, to them, was\ntransfigured by love. All its phenomena, all its catastrophes, were read\nin a new light, were endued with a new significance, acquired a religious\nsanctity. Christianity offered a deeper consolation than any prospect of\nendless life, or of millennial glories. It taught the weary, the\nsorrowing, and the lonely, to look up to heaven and to say, \u201cThou, God,\ncarest for me.\u201d\n\nIt is not surprising that a religious system which made it a main object\nto inculcate moral excellence, and which by its doctrine of future\nretribution, by its organisation, and by its capacity of producing a\ndisinterested enthusiasm, acquired an unexampled supremacy over the human\nmind, should have raised its disciples to a very high condition of\nsanctity. There can, indeed, be little doubt that, for nearly two hundred\nyears after its establishment in Europe, the Christian community exhibited\na moral purity which, if it has been equalled, has never for any long\nperiod been surpassed. Completely separated from the Roman world that was\naround them, abstaining alike from political life, from appeals to the\ntribunals, and from military occupations; looking forward continually to\nthe immediate advent of their Master, and the destruction of the Empire in\nwhich they dwelt, and animated by all the fervour of a young religion, the\nChristians found within themselves a whole order of ideas and feelings\nsufficiently powerful to guard them from the contamination of their age.\nIn their general bearing towards society, and in the nature and minuteness\nof their scruples, they probably bore a greater resemblance to the Quakers\nthan to any other existing sect.(13) Some serious signs of moral decadence\nmight, indeed, be detected even before the Decian persecution; and it was\nobvious that the triumph of the Church, by introducing numerous nominal\nChristians into its pale, by exposing it to the temptations of wealth and\nprosperity, and by forcing it into connection with secular politics, must\nhave damped its zeal and impaired its purity; yet few persons, I think,\nwho had contemplated Christianity as it existed in the first three\ncenturies would have imagined it possible that it should completely\nsupersede the Pagan worship around it; that its teachers should bend the\nmightiest monarchs to their will, and stamp their influence on every page\nof legislation, and direct the whole course of civilisation for a thousand\nyears; and yet that the period in which they were so supreme should have\nbeen one of the most contemptible in history.\n\nThe leading features of that period may be shortly told. From the death of\nMarcus Aurelius, about which time Christianity assumed an important\ninfluence in the Roman world, the decadence of the Empire was rapid and\nalmost uninterrupted. The first Christian emperor transferred his capital\nto a new city, uncontaminated by the traditions and the glories of\nPaganism; and he there founded an Empire which derived all its ethics from\nChristian sources, and which continued in existence for about eleven\nhundred years. Of that Byzantine Empire the universal verdict of history\nis that it constitutes, with scarcely an exception, the most thoroughly\nbase and despicable form that civilisation has yet assumed. Though very\ncruel and very sensual, there have been times when cruelty assumed more\nruthless, and sensuality more extravagant, aspects; but there has been no\nother enduring civilisation so absolutely destitute of all the forms and\nelements of greatness, and none to which the epithet mean may be so\nemphatically applied. The Byzantine Empire was pre-eminently the age of\ntreachery. Its vices were the vices of men who had ceased to be brave\nwithout learning to be virtuous. Without patriotism, without the fruition\nor desire of liberty, after the first paroxysms of religious agitation,\nwithout genius or intellectual activity; slaves, and willing slaves, in\nboth their actions and their thoughts, immersed in sensuality and in the\nmost frivolous pleasures, the people only emerged from their listlessness\nwhen some theological subtilty, or some rivalry in the chariot races,\nstimulated them into frantic riots. They exhibited all the externals of\nadvanced civilisation. They possessed knowledge; they had continually\nbefore them the noble literature of ancient Greece, instinct with the\nloftiest heroism; but that literature, which afterwards did so much to\nrevivify Europe, could fire the degenerate Greeks with no spark or\nsemblance of nobility. The history of the Empire is a monotonous story of\nthe intrigues of priests, eunuchs, and women, of poisonings, of\nconspiracies, of uniform ingratitude, of perpetual fratricides. After the\nconversion of Constantine there was no prince in any section of the Roman\nEmpire altogether so depraved, or at least so shameless, as Nero or\nHeliogabalus; but the Byzantine Empire can show none bearing the faintest\nresemblance to Antonine or Marcus Aurelius, while the nearest\napproximation to that character at Rome was furnished by the Emperor\nJulian, who contemptuously abandoned the Christian faith. At last the\nMohammedan invasion terminated the long decrepitude of the Eastern Empire.\nConstantinople sank beneath the Crescent, its inhabitants wrangling about\ntheological differences to the very moment of their fall.\n\nThe Asiatic Churches had already perished. The Christian faith, planted in\nthe dissolute cities of Asia Minor, had produced many fanatical ascetics\nand a few illustrious theologians, but it had no renovating effect upon\nthe people at large. It introduced among them a principle of interminable\nand implacable dissension, but it scarcely tempered in any appreciable\ndegree their luxury or their sensuality. The frenzy of pleasure continued\nunabated, and in a great part of the Empire it seemed, indeed, only to\nhave attained its climax after the triumph of Christianity.\n\nThe condition of the Western Empire was somewhat different. Not quite a\ncentury after the conversion of Constantine, the Imperial city was\ncaptured by Alaric, and a long series of barbarian invasions at last\ndissolved the whole framework of Roman society, while the barbarians\nthemselves, having adopted the Christian faith and submitted absolutely to\nthe Christian priests, the Church, which remained the guardian of all the\ntreasures of antiquity, was left with a virgin soil to realise her ideal\nof human excellence. Nor did she fall short of what might have been\nexpected. She exercised for many centuries an almost absolute empire over\nthe thoughts and actions of mankind, and created a civilisation which was\npermeated in every part with ecclesiastical influence. And the dark ages,\nas the period of Catholic ascendancy is justly called, do undoubtedly\ndisplay many features of great and genuine excellence. In active\nbenevolence, in the spirit of reverence, in loyalty, in co-operative\nhabits, they far transcend the noblest ages of Pagan antiquity, while in\nthat humanity which shrinks from the infliction of suffering, they were\nsuperior to Roman, and in their respect for chastity, to Greek\ncivilisation. On the other hand, they rank immeasurably below the best\nPagan civilisations in civic and patriotic virtues, in the love of\nliberty, in the number and splendour of the great characters they\nproduced, in the dignity and beauty of the type of character they formed.\nThey had their full share of tumult, anarchy, injustice, and war, and they\nshould probably be placed, in all intellectual virtues, lower than any\nother period in the history of mankind. A boundless intolerance of all\ndivergence of opinion was united with an equally boundless toleration of\nall falsehood and deliberate fraud that could favour received opinions.\nCredulity being taught as a virtue, and all conclusions dictated by\nauthority, a deadly torpor sank upon the human mind, which for many\ncenturies almost suspended its action, and was only effectually broken by\nthe scrutinising, innovating, and free-thinking habits that accompanied\nthe rise of the industrial republics in Italy. Few men who are not either\npriests or monks would not have preferred to live in the best days of the\nAthenian or of the Roman republics, in the age of Augustus or in the age\nof the Antonines, rather than in any period that elapsed between the\ntriumph of Christianity and the fourteenth century.\n\nIt is, indeed, difficult to conceive any clearer proof than was furnished\nby the history of the twelve hundred years after the conversion of\nConstantine, that while theology has undoubtedly introduced into the world\ncertain elements and principles of good, scarcely if at all known to\nantiquity, while its value as a tincture or modifying influence in society\ncan hardly be overrated, it is by no means for the advantage of mankind\nthat, in the form which the Greek and Catholic Churches present, it should\nbecome a controlling arbiter of civilisation. It is often said that the\nRoman world before Constantine was in a period of rapid decay; that the\ntraditions and vitality of half-suppressed Paganism account for many of\nthe aberrations of later times; that the influence of the Church was often\nrather nominal and superficial than supreme; and that, in judging the\nignorance of the dark ages, we must make large allowance for the\ndislocations of society by the barbarians. In all this there is much\ntruth; but when we remember that in the Byzantine Empire the renovating\npower of theology was tried in a new capital free from Pagan traditions,\nand for more than one thousand years unsubdued by barbarians, and that in\nthe West the Church, for at least seven hundred years after the shocks of\nthe invasions had subsided, exercised a control more absolute than any\nother moral or intellectual agency has ever attained, it will appear, I\nthink, that the experiment was very sufficiently tried. It is easy to make\na catalogue of the glaring vices of antiquity, and to contrast them with\nthe pure morality of Christian writings; but, if we desire to form a just\nestimate of the realised improvement, we must compare the classical and\necclesiastical civilisations as wholes, and must observe in each case not\nonly the vices that were repressed, but also the degree and variety of\npositive excellence attained. In the first two centuries of the Christian\nChurch the moral elevation was extremely high, and was continually\nappealed to as a proof of the divinity of the creed. In the century before\nthe conversion of Constantine, a marked depression was already manifest.\nThe two centuries after Constantine are uniformly represented by the\nFathers as a period of general and scandalous vice. The ecclesiastical\ncivilisation that followed, though not without its distinctive merits,\nassuredly supplies no justification of the common boast about the\nregeneration of society by the Church. That the civilisation of the last\nthree centuries has risen in most respects to a higher level than any that\nhad preceded it, I at least firmly believe; but theological ethics, though\nvery important, form but one of the many and complex elements of its\nexcellence. Mechanical inventions, the habits of industrial life, the\ndiscoveries of physical science, the improvements of government, the\nexpansion of literature, the traditions of Pagan antiquity, have all a\ndistinguished place, while, the more fully its history is investigated,\nthe more clearly two capital truths are disclosed. The first is that the\ninfluence of theology having for centuries numbed and paralysed the whole\nintellect of Christian Europe, the revival, which forms the starting-point\nof our modern civilisation, was mainly due to the fact that two spheres of\nintellect still remained uncontrolled by the sceptre of Catholicism. The\nPagan literature of antiquity, and the Mohammedan schools of science, were\nthe chief agencies in resuscitating the dormant energies of Christendom.\nThe second fact, which I have elsewhere endeavoured to establish in\ndetail, is that during more than three centuries the decadence of\ntheological influence has been one of the most invariable signs and\nmeasures of our progress. In medicine, physical science, commercial\ninterests, politics, and even ethics, the reformer has been confronted\nwith theological affirmations which barred his way, which were all\ndefended as of vital importance, and were all in turn compelled to yield\nbefore the secularising influence of civilisation.\n\nWe have here, then, a problem of deep interest and importance, which I\npropose to investigate in the present chapter. We have to enquire why it\nwas that a religion which was not more remarkable for the beauty of its\nmoral teaching than for the power with which it acted upon mankind, and\nwhich during the last few centuries has been the source of countless\nblessings to the world, should have proved itself for so long a period,\nand under such a variety of conditions, altogether unable to regenerate\nEurope. The question is not one of languid or imperfect action, but of\nconflicting agencies. In the vast and complex organism of Catholicity\nthere were some parts which acted with admirable force in improving and\nelevating mankind. There were others which had a directly opposite effect.\n\nThe first aspect in which Christianity presented itself to the world was\nas a declaration of the fraternity of men in Christ. Considered as\nimmortal beings, destined for the extremes of happiness or of misery, and\nunited to one another by a special community of redemption, the first and\nmost manifest duty of a Christian man was to look upon his fellow-men as\nsacred beings, and from this notion grew up the eminently Christian idea\nof the sanctity of all human life. I have already endeavoured to show\u2014and\nthe fact is of such capital importance in meeting the common objections to\nthe reality of natural moral perceptions, that I venture, at the risk of\ntediousness, to recur to it\u2014that nature does not tell man that it is wrong\nto slay without provocation his fellow-men. Not to dwell upon those early\nstages of barbarism in which the higher faculties of human nature are\nstill undeveloped, and almost in the condition of embryo, it is an\nhistorical fact beyond all dispute, that refined, and even moral societies\nhave existed, in which the slaughter of men of some particular class or\nnation has been regarded with no more compunction than the slaughter of\nanimals in the chase. The early Greeks, in their dealings with the\nbarbarians; the Romans, in their dealings with gladiators, and in some\nperiods of their history, with slaves; the Spaniards, in their dealings\nwith Indians; nearly all colonists removed from European supervision, in\ntheir dealings with an inferior race; an immense proportion of the nations\nof antiquity, in their dealings with new-born infants, display this\ncomplete and absolute callousness, and we may discover traces of it even\nin our own islands and within the last three hundred years.(14) And\ndifficult as it may be to realise it in our day, when the atrocity of all\nwanton slaughter of men has become an essential part of our moral\nfeelings, it is nevertheless an incontestable fact that this callousness\nhas been continually shown by good men, by men who in all other respects\nwould be regarded in any age as conspicuous for their humanity. In the\ndays of the Tudors, the best Englishmen delighted in what we should now\ndeem the most barbarous sports, and it is absolutely certain that in\nantiquity men of genuine humanity\u2014tender relations, loving friends,\ncharitable neighbours\u2014men in whose eyes the murder of a fellow-citizen\nwould have appeared as atrocious as in our own, attended, instituted, and\napplauded gladiatorial games, or counselled without a scruple the\nexposition of infants. But it is, as I conceive, a complete confusion of\nthought to imagine, as is so commonly done, that any accumulation of facts\nof this nature throws the smallest doubt upon the reality of innate moral\nperceptions. All that the intuitive moralist asserts is that we know by\nnature that there is a distinction between humanity and cruelty; that the\nfirst belongs to the higher or better part of our nature, and that it is\nour duty to cultivate it. The standard of the age, which is itself\ndetermined by the general condition of society, constitutes the natural\nline of duty; for he who falls below it contributes to depress it. Now,\nthere is no fact more absolutely certain than that nations and ages which\nhave differed most widely as to the standard have been perfectly unanimous\nas to the excellence of humanity. Plato, who recommended infanticide;\nCato, who sold his aged slaves; Pliny, who applauded the games of the\narena; the old generals, who made their prisoners slaves or gladiators, as\nwell as the modern generals, who refuse to impose upon them any degrading\nlabour; the old legislators, who filled their codes with sentences of\ntorture, mutilation, and hideous forms of death, as well as the modern\nlegislators, who are continually seeking to abridge the punishment of the\nmost guilty; the old disciplinarian, who governed by force, as well as the\nmodern instructor, who governs by sympathy; the Spanish girl, whose dark\neye glows with rapture as she watches the frantic bull, while the fire\nstreams from the explosive dart that quivers in its neck; as well as the\nreformers we sometimes meet, who are scandalised by all field sports, or\nby the sacrifice of animal life for food; or who will eat only the larger\nanimals, in order to reduce the sacrifice of life to a minimum; or who are\ncontinually inventing new methods of quickening animal death\u2014all these\npersons, widely as they differ in their acts and in their judgments of\nwhat things should be called \u201cbrutal,\u201d and of what things should be called\n\u201cfantastic,\u201d agree in believing humanity to be better than cruelty, and in\nattaching a definite condemnation to acts that fall below the standard of\ntheir country and their time. Now, it was one of the most important\nservices of Christianity, that besides quickening greatly our benevolent\naffections it definitely and dogmatically asserted the sinfulness of all\ndestruction of human life as a matter of amusement, or of simple\nconvenience, and thereby formed a new standard higher than any which then\nexisted in the world.\n\nThe influence of Christianity in this respect began with the very earliest\nstage of human life. The practice of abortion was one to which few persons\nin antiquity attached any deep feeling of condemnation. I have noticed in\na former chapter that the physiological theory that the f\u0153tus did not\nbecome a living creature till the hour of birth, had some influence on the\njudgments passed upon this practice; and even where this theory was not\ngenerally held, it is easy to account for the prevalence of the act. The\ndeath of an unborn child does not appeal very powerfully to the feeling of\ncompassion, and men who had not yet attained any strong sense of the\nsanctity of human life, who believed that they might regulate their\nconduct on these matters by utilitarian views, according to the general\ninterest of the community, might very readily conclude that the prevention\nof birth was in many cases an act of mercy. In Greece, Aristotle not only\ncountenanced the practice, but even desired that it should be enforced by\nlaw, when population had exceeded certain assigned limits.(15) No law in\nGreece, or in the Roman Republic, or during the greater part of the\nEmpire, condemned it;(16) and if, as has been thought, some measure was\nadopted condemnatory of it before the close of the Pagan Empire, that\nmeasure was altogether inoperative. A long chain of writers, both Pagan\nand Christian, represent the practice as avowed and almost universal. They\ndescribe it as resulting, not simply from licentiousness or from poverty,\nbut even from so slight a motive as vanity, which made mothers shrink from\nthe disfigurement of childbirth. They speak of a mother who had never\ndestroyed her unborn offspring as deserving of signal praise, and they\nassure us that the frequency of the crime was such that it gave rise to a\nregular profession. At the same time, while Ovid, Seneca, Favorinus the\nStoic of Arles, Plutarch, and Juvenal, all speak of abortion as general\nand notorious, they all speak of it as unquestionably criminal.(17) It was\nprobably regarded by the average Romans of the later days of Paganism much\nas Englishmen in the last century regarded convivial excesses, as\ncertainly wrong, but so venial as scarcely to deserve censure.\n\nThe language of the Christians from the very beginning was widely\ndifferent. With unwavering consistency and with the strongest emphasis,\nthey denounced the practice, not simply as inhuman, but as definitely\nmurder. In the penitential discipline of the Church, abortion was placed\nin the same category as infanticide, and the stern sentence to which the\nguilty person was subject imprinted on the minds of Christians, more\ndeeply than any mere exhortations, a sense of the enormity of the crime.\nBy the Council of Ancyra the guilty mother was excluded from the Sacrament\ntill the very hour of death; and though this penalty was soon reduced,\nfirst to ten and afterwards to seven years\u2019 penitence,(18) the offence\nstill ranked amongst the gravest in the legislation of the Church. In one\nvery remarkable way the reforms of Christianity in this sphere were\npowerfully sustained by a doctrine which is perhaps the most revolting in\nthe whole theology of the Fathers. To the Pagans, even when condemning\nabortion and infanticide, these crimes appeared comparatively trivial,\nbecause the victims seemed very insignificant and their sufferings very\nslight. The death of an adult man who is struck down in the midst of his\nenterprise and his hopes, who is united by ties of love or friendship to\nmultitudes around him, and whose departure causes a perturbation and a\npang to the society in which he has moved, excites feelings very different\nfrom any produced by the painless extinction of a new-born infant, which,\nhaving scarcely touched the earth, has known none of its cares and very\nlittle of its love. But to the theologian this infant life possessed a\nfearful significance. The moment, they taught, the f\u0153tus in the womb\nacquired animation, it became an immortal being, destined, even if it died\nunborn, to be raised again on the last day, responsible for the sin of\nAdam, and doomed, if it perished without baptism, to be excluded for ever\nfrom heaven and to be cast, as the Greeks taught, into a painless and\njoyless limbo, or, as the Latins taught, into the abyss of hell. It is\nprobably, in a considerable degree, to this doctrine that we owe in the\nfirst instance the healthy sense of the value and sanctity of infant life\nwhich so broadly distinguishes Christian from Pagan societies, and which\nis now so thoroughly incorporated with our moral feelings as to be\nindependent of all doctrinal changes. That which appealed so powerfully to\nthe compassion of the early and medi\u00e6val Christians, in the fate of the\nmurdered infants, was not that they died, but that they commonly died\nunbaptised; and the criminality of abortion was immeasurably aggravated\nwhen it was believed to involve, not only the extinction of a transient\nlife, but also the damnation of an immortal soul.(19) In the \u201cLives of the\nSaints\u201d there is a curious legend of a man who, being desirous of\nascertaining the condition of a child before birth, slew a pregnant woman,\ncommitting thereby a double murder, that of the mother and of the child in\nher womb. Stung by remorse, the murderer fled to the desert, and passed\nthe remainder of his life in constant penance and prayer. At last, after\nmany years, the voice of God told him that he had been forgiven the murder\nof the woman. But yet his end was a clouded one. He never could obtain an\nassurance that he had been forgiven the death of the child.(20)\n\nIf we pass to the next stage of human life, that of the new-born infant,\nwe find ourselves in presence of that practice of infanticide which was\none of the deepest stains of the ancient civilisation. The natural history\nof this crime is somewhat peculiar.(21) Among savages, whose feelings of\ncompassion are very faint, and whose warlike and nomadic habits are\neminently unfavourable to infant life, it is, as might be expected, the\nusual custom for the parent to decide whether he desires to preserve the\nchild he has called into existence, and if he does not, to expose or slay\nit. In nations that have passed out of the stage of barbarism, but are\nstill rude and simple in their habits, the practice of infanticide is\nusually rare; but, unlike other crimes of violence, it is not naturally\ndiminished by the progress of civilisation, for, after the period of\nsavage life is passed, its prevalence is influenced much more by the\nsensuality than by the barbarity of a people.(22) We may trace too, in\nmany countries and ages, the notion that children, as the fruit,\nrepresentatives, and dearest possessions of their parents, are acceptable\nsacrifices to the gods.(23) Infanticide, as is well known, was almost\nuniversally admitted among the Greeks, being sanctioned, and in some cases\nenjoined, upon what we should now call \u201cthe greatest happiness principle,\u201d\nby the ideal legislations of Plato and Aristotle, and by the actual\nlegislations of Lycurgus and Solon. Regarding the community as a whole,\nthey clearly saw that it is in the highest degree for the interest of\nsociety that the increase of population should be very jealously\nrestricted, and that the State should be as far as possible free from\nhelpless and unproductive members; and they therefore concluded that the\npainless destruction of infant life, and especially of those infants who\nwere so deformed or diseased that their lives, if prolonged, would\nprobably have been a burden to themselves, was on the whole a benefit. The\nvery sensual tone of Greek life rendered the modern notion of prolonged\ncontinence wholly alien to their thoughts; and the extremely low social\nand intellectual condition of Greek mothers, who exercised no appreciable\ninfluence over the habits of thought of the nation should also, I think,\nbe taken into account, for it has always been observed that mothers are\nmuch more distinguished than fathers for their affection for infants that\nhave not yet manifested the first dawning of reason. Even in Greece,\nhowever, infanticide and exposition were not universally permitted. In\nThebes these offences are said to have been punished by death.(24)\n\nThe power of life and death, which in Rome was originally conceded to the\nfather over his children, would appear to involve an unlimited permission\nof infanticide; but a very old law, popularly ascribed to Romulus, in this\nrespect restricted the parental rights, enjoining the father to bring up\nall his male children, and at least his eldest female child, forbidding\nhim to destroy any well-formed child till it had completed its third year,\nwhen the affections of the parent might be supposed to be developed, but\npermitting the exposition of deformed or maimed children with the consent\nof their five nearest relations.(25) The Roman policy was always to\nencourage, while the Greek policy was rather to restrain, population, and\ninfanticide never appears to have been common in Rome till the corrupt and\nsensual days of the Empire. The legislators then absolutely condemned it,\nand it was indirectly discouraged by laws which accorded special\nprivileges to the fathers of many children, exempted poor parents from\nmost of the burden of taxation, and in some degree provided for the\nsecurity of exposed infants. Public opinion probably differed little from\nthat of our own day as to the fact, though it differed from it much as to\nthe degree, of its criminality. It was, as will be remembered, one of the\ncharges most frequently brought against the Christians, and it was one\nthat never failed to arouse popular indignation. Pagan and Christian\nauthorities are, however, united in speaking of infanticide as a crying\nvice of the Empire, and Tertullian observed that no laws were more easily\nor more constantly evaded than those which condemned it.(26) A broad\ndistinction was popularly drawn between infanticide and exposition. The\nlatter, though probably condemned, was certainly not punished by law;(27)\nit was practised on a gigantic scale and with absolute impunity, noticed\nby writers with the most frigid indifference, and, at least in the case of\ndestitute parents, considered a very venial offence.(28) Often, no doubt,\nthe exposed children perished, but more frequently the very extent of the\npractice saved the lives of the victims. They were brought systematically\nto a column near the Velabrum, and there taken by speculators, who\neducated them as slaves, or very frequently as prostitutes.(29)\n\nOn the whole, what was demanded on this subject was not any clearer moral\nteaching, but rather a stronger enforcement of the condemnation long since\npassed upon infanticide, and an increased protection for exposed infants.\nBy the penitential sentences, by the dogmatic considerations I have\nenumerated, and by the earnest exhortations both of her preachers and\nwriters, the Church laboured to deepen the sense of the enormity of the\nact, and especially to convince men that the guilt of abandoning their\nchildren to the precarious and doubtful mercy of the stranger was scarcely\nless than that of simple infanticide.(30) In the civil law her influence\nwas also displayed, though not, I think, very advantageously. By the\ncounsel, it is said, of Lactantius, Constantine, in the very year of his\nconversion, in order to diminish infanticide by destitute parents, issued\na decree, applicable in the first instance to Italy, but extended in A.D.\n322 to Africa, in which he commanded that those children whom their\nparents were unable to support should be clothed and fed at the expense of\nthe State,(31) a policy which had already been pursued on a large scale\nunder the Antonines. In A.D. 331, a law intended to multiply the chances\nof the exposed child being taken charge of by some charitable or\ninterested person, provided that the foundling should remain the absolute\nproperty of its saviour, whether he adopted it as a son or employed it as\na slave, and that the parent should not have power at any future time to\nreclaim it.(32) By another law, which had been issued in A.D. 329, it had\nbeen provided that children who had been, not exposed, but sold, might be\nreclaimed upon payment by the father.(33)\n\nThe last two laws cannot be regarded with unmingled satisfaction. The law\nregulating the condition of exposed children, though undoubtedly enacted\nwith the most benevolent intentions, was in some degree a retrograde step,\nthe Pagan laws having provided that the father might always withdraw the\nchild he had exposed, from servitude, by payment of the expenses incurred\nin supporting it,(34) while Trajan had even decided that the exposed child\ncould not become under any circumstance a slave.(35) The law of\nConstantine, on the other hand, doomed it to an irrevocable servitude; and\nthis law continued in force till A.D. 529, when Justinian, reverting to\nthe principle of Trajan, decreed that not only the father lost all\nlegitimate authority over his child by exposing it, but also that the\nperson who had saved it could not by that act deprive it of its natural\nliberty. But this law applied only to the Eastern Empire; and in part at\nleast of the West(36) the servitude of exposed infants continued for\ncenturies, and appears only to have terminated with the general extinction\nof slavery in Europe. The law of Constantine concerning the sale of\nchildren was also a step, though perhaps a necessary step, of\nretrogression. A series of emperors, among whom Caracalla was conspicuous,\nhad denounced and endeavoured to abolish, as \u201cshameful,\u201d the traffic in\nfree children, and Diocletian had expressly and absolutely condemned\nit.(37) The extreme misery, however, resulting from the civil wars under\nConstantine, had rendered it necessary to authorise the old practice of\nselling children in the case of absolute destitution, which, though it had\nbeen condemned, had probably never altogether ceased. Theodosius the Great\nattempted to take a step in advance, by decreeing that the children thus\nsold might regain their freedom without the repayment of the\npurchase-money, a temporary service being a sufficient compensation for\nthe purchase;(38) but this measure was repealed by Valentinian III. The\nsale of children in case of great necessity, though denounced by the\nFathers,(39) continued long after the time of Theodosius, nor does any\nChristian emperor appear to have enforced the humane enactment of\nDiocletian.\n\nTogether with these measures for the protection of exposed children, there\nwere laws directly condemnatory of infanticide. This branch of the subject\nis obscured by much ambiguity and controversy; but it appears most\nprobable that the Pagan legislation reckoned infanticide as a form of\nhomicide, though, being deemed less atrocious than other forms of\nhomicide, it was punished, not by death, but by banishment.(40) A law of\nConstantine, intended principally, and perhaps exclusively, for Africa,\nwhere the sacrifices of children to Saturn were very common, assimilated\nto parricide the murder of a child by its father;(41) and finally,\nValentinian, in A.D. 374, made all infanticide a capital offence,(42) and\nespecially enjoined the punishment of exposition.(43) A law of the Spanish\nVisigoths, in the seventh century, punished infanticide and abortion with\ndeath or blindness.(44) In the Capitularies of Charlemagne the former\ncrime was punished as homicide.(45)\n\nIt is not possible to ascertain, with any degree of accuracy, what\ndiminution of infanticide resulted from these measures. It may, however,\nbe safely asserted that the publicity of the trade in exposed children\nbecame impossible under the influence of Christianity, and that the sense\nof the serious nature of the crime was very considerably increased. The\nextreme destitution, which was one of its most fertile causes, was met by\nChristian charity. Many exposed children appear to have been educated by\nindividual Christians.(46) Brephotrophia and Orphanotrophia are among the\nearliest recorded charitable institutions of the Church; but it is not\ncertain that exposed children were admitted into them, and we find no\ntrace for several centuries of Christian foundling hospitals. This form of\ncharity grew up gradually in the early part of the middle ages. It is said\nthat one existed at Tr\u00eaves in the sixth, and at Angers in the seventh\ncentury, and it is certain that one existed at Milan in the eighth\ncentury.(47) The Council of Rouen, in the ninth century, invited women who\nhad secretly borne children to place them at the door of the church, and\nundertook to provide for them if they were not reclaimed. It is probable\nthat they were brought up among the numerous slaves or serfs attached to\nthe ecclesiastical properties; for a decree of the Council of Arles, in\nthe fifth century, and afterwards a law of Charlemagne, had echoed the\nenactment of Constantine, declaring that exposed children should be the\nslaves of their protectors. As slavery declined, the memorials of many\nsins, like many other of the discordant elements of medi\u00e6val society, were\ndoubtless absorbed and consecrated in the monastic societies. The strong\nsense always evinced in the Church of the enormity of unchastity probably\nrendered the ecclesiastics more cautious in this than in other forms of\ncharity, for institutions especially intended for deserted children\nadvanced but slowly. Even Rome, the mother of many charities, could boast\nof none till the beginning of the thirteenth century.(48) About the middle\nof the twelfth century we find societies at Milan charged, among other\nfunctions, with seeking for exposed children. Towards the close of the\nsame century, a monk of Montpellier, whose very name is doubtful, but who\nis commonly spoken of as Brother Guy, founded a confraternity called by\nthe name of the Holy Ghost, and devoted to the protection and education of\nchildren; and this society in the two following centuries ramified over a\ngreat part of Europe.(49) Though principally and at first, perhaps,\nexclusively intended for the care of the orphans of legitimate marriages,\nthough in the fifteenth century the Hospital of the Holy Ghost at Paris\neven refused to admit deserted children, yet the care of foundlings soon\npassed in a great measure into its hands. At last, after many complaints\nof the frequency of infanticide, St. Vincent de Paul arose, and gave so\ngreat an impulse to that branch of charity that he may be regarded as its\nsecond author, and his influence was felt not only in private charities,\nbut in legislative enactments. Into the effects of these measures\u2014the\nencouragement of the vice of incontinence by institutions that were\ndesigned to suppress the crime of infanticide, and the serious moral\ncontroversies suggested by this apparent conflict between the interests of\nhumanity and of chastity\u2014it is not necessary for me to enter. We are at\npresent concerned with the principles that actuated Christian charity, not\nwith the wisdom of its organisations. Whatever mistakes may have been\nmade, the entire movement I have traced displays an anxiety not only for\nthe life, but also for the moral well-being, of the castaways of society,\nsuch as the most humane nations of antiquity had never reached. This\nminute and scrupulous care for human life and human virtue in the humblest\nforms, in the slave, the gladiator, the savage, or the infant, was indeed\nwholly foreign to the genius of Paganism. It was produced by the Christian\ndoctrine of the inestimable value of each immortal soul. It is the\ndistinguishing and transcendent characteristic of every society into which\nthe spirit of Christianity has passed.\n\nThe influence of Christianity in the protection of infant life, though\nvery real, may be, and I think often has been, exaggerated. It would be\ndifficult to overrate its influence in the sphere we have next to examine.\nThere is scarcely any other single reform so important in the moral\nhistory of mankind as the suppression of the gladiatorial shows, and this\nfeat must be almost exclusively ascribed to the Christian Church. When we\nremember how extremely few of the best and greatest men of the Roman world\nhad absolutely condemned the games of the amphitheatre, it is impossible\nto regard, without the deepest admiration, the unwavering and\nuncompromising consistency of the patristic denunciations. And even\ncomparing the Fathers with the most enlightened Pagan moralists in their\ntreatment of this matter, we shall usually find one most significant\ndifference. The Pagan, in the spirit of philosophy, denounced these games\nas inhuman, or demoralising, or degrading, or brutal. The Christian, in\nthe spirit of the Church, represented them as a definite sin, the sin of\nmurder, for which the spectators as well as the actors were directly\nresponsible before Heaven. In the very latest days of the Pagan Empire,\nmagnificent amphitheatres were still arising,(50) and Constantine himself\nhad condemned numerous barbarian captives to combat with wild beasts.(51)\nIt was in A.D. 325, immediately after the convocation of the Council of\nNice, that the first Christian emperor issued the first edict in the Roman\nEmpire condemnatory of the gladiatorial games.(52) It was issued in\nBerytus in Syria, and is believed by some to have been only applicable to\nthe province of Ph\u0153nicia;(53) but even in this province it was suffered to\nbe inoperative, for, only four years later, Libanius speaks of the shows\nas habitually celebrated at Antioch.(54) In the Western Empire their\ncontinuance was fully recognised, though a few infinitesimal restrictions\nwere imposed upon them. Constantine, in A.D. 357, prohibited the lanist\u00e6,\nor purveyors of gladiators, from bribing servants of the palace to enrol\nthemselves as combatants.(55) Valentinian, in A.D. 365, forbade any\nChristian criminal,(56) and in A.D. 367, any one connected with the\nPalatine,(57) being condemned to fight. Honorius prohibited any slave who\nhad been a gladiator passing into the service of a senator; but the real\nobject of this last measure was, I imagine, not so much to stigmatise the\ngladiator, as to guard against the danger of an armed nobility.(58) A much\nmore important fact is that the spectacles were never introduced into the\nnew capital of Constantine. At Rome, though they became less numerous,\nthey do not appear to have been suspended until their final suppression.\nThe passion for gladiators was the worst, while religious liberty was\nprobably the best, feature of the old Pagan society; and it is a\nmelancholy fact that of these two it was the nobler part that in the\nChristian Empire was first destroyed. Theodosius the Great, who suppressed\nall diversity of worship throughout the Empire, and who showed himself on\nmany occasions the docile slave of the clergy, won the applause of the\nPagan Symmachus by compelling his barbarian prisoners to fight as\ngladiators.(59) Besides this occasion, we have special knowledge of\ngladiatorial games that were celebrated in A.D. 385, in A.D. 391, and\nafterwards in the reign of Honorius, and the practice of condemning\ncriminals to the arena still continued.(60)\n\nBut although the suppression of the gladiatorial shows was not effected in\nthe metropolis of the Empire till nearly ninety years after Christianity\nhad been the State religion, the distinction between the teaching of the\nChristians and Pagans on the subject remained unimpaired. To the last, the\nmost estimable of the Pagans appear to have regarded them with favour or\nindifference. Julian, it is true, with a rare magnanimity, refused\npersistently, in his conflict with Christianity, to avail himself, as he\nmight most easily have done, of the popular passion for games which the\nChurch condemned; but Libanius has noticed them with some approbation,(61)\nand Symmachus, as we have already seen, both instituted and applauded\nthem. But the Christians steadily refused to admit any professional\ngladiator to baptism till he had pledged himself to abandon his calling,\nand every Christian who attended the games was excluded from communion.\nThe preachers and writers of the Church denounced them with the most\nunqualified vehemence, and the poet Prudentius made a direct and earnest\nappeal to the emperor to suppress them. In the East, where they had never\ntaken very firm root, they appear to have ceased about the time of\nTheodosius, and a passion for chariot races, which rose to the most\nextravagant height at Constantinople and in many other cities, took their\nplace. In the West, the last gladiatorial show was celebrated at Rome,\nunder Honorius, in A.D. 404, in honour of the triumph of Stilicho, when an\nAsiatic monk, named Telemachus, animated by the noblest heroism of\nphilanthropy, rushed into the amphitheatre, and attempted to part the\ncombatants. He perished beneath a shower of stones flung by the angry\nspectators; but his death led to the final abolition of the games.(62)\nCombats of men with wild beasts continued, however, much later, and were\nespecially popular in the East. The difficulty of procuring wild animals,\namid the general poverty, contributed, with other causes, to their\ndecline. They sank, at last, into games of cruelty to animals, but of\nlittle danger to men, and were finally condemned, at the end of the\nseventh century, by the Council of Trullo.(63) In Italy, the custom of\nsham fights, which continued through the whole of the middle ages, and\nwhich Petrarch declares were in his days sometimes attended with\nconsiderable bloodshed, may perhaps be traced in some degree to the\ntraditions of the amphitheatre.(64)\n\nThe extinction of the gladiatorial spectacles is, of all the results of\nearly Christian influence, that upon which the historian can look with the\ndeepest and most unmingled satisfaction. Horrible as was the bloodshed\nthey directly caused, these games were perhaps still more pernicious on\naccount of the callousness of feeling they diffused through all classes,\nthe fatal obstacle they presented to any general elevation of the standard\nof humanity. Yet the attitude of the Pagans decisively proves that no\nprogress of philosophy or social civilisation was likely, for a very long\nperiod, to have extirpated them; and it can hardly be doubted that, had\nthey been flourishing unchallenged as in the days of Trajan, when the rude\nwarriors of the North obtained the empire of Italy, they would have been\neagerly adopted by the conquerors, would have taken deep root in medi\u00e6val\nlife, and have indefinitely retarded the progress of humanity.\nChristianity alone was powerful enough to tear this evil plant from the\nRoman soil. The Christian custom of legacies for the relief of the\nindigent and suffering replaced the Pagan custom of bequeathing sums of\nmoney for games in honour of the dead; and the month of December, which\nwas looked forward to with eagerness through all the Roman world, as the\nspecial season of the gladiatorial spectacles, was consecrated in the\nChurch by another festival commemorative of the advent of Christ.\n\nThe notion of the sanctity of human life, which led the early Christians\nto combat and at last to overthrow the gladiatorial games, was carried by\nsome of them to an extent altogether irreconcilable with national\nindependence, and with the prevailing penal system. Many of them taught\nthat no Christian might lawfully take away life, either as a soldier, or\nby bringing a capital charge, or by acting as an executioner. The first of\nthese questions it will be convenient to reserve for a later period of\nthis chapter, when I propose to examine the relations of Christianity to\nthe military spirit, and a very few words will be sufficient to dispose of\nthe others. The notion that there is something impure and defiling, even\nin a just execution, is one which may be traced through many ages; and\nexecutioners, as the ministers of the law, have been from very ancient\ntimes regarded as unholy. In both Greece and Rome the law compelled them\nto live outside the walls, and at Rhodes they were never permitted even to\nenter the city.(65) Notions of this kind were very strongly held in the\nearly Church; and a decree of the penitential discipline which was\nenforced, even against emperors and generals, forbade any one whose hands\nhad been imbrued in blood, even when that blood was shed in a righteous\nwar, approaching the altar without a preparatory period of penance. The\nopinions of the Christians of the first three centuries were usually\nformed without any regard to the necessities of civil or political life;\nbut when the Church obtained an ascendancy, it was found necessary\nspeedily to modify them; and although Lactantius, in the fourth century,\nmaintained the unlawfulness of all bloodshed,(66) as strongly as Origen in\nthe third, and Tertullian in the second, the common doctrine was simply\nthat no priest or bishop must take any part in a capital charge. From this\nexceptional position of the clergy they speedily acquired the position of\nofficial intercessors for criminals, ambassadors of mercy, when, from some\nact of sedition or other cause, their city or neighbourhood was menaced\nwith a bloody invasion. The right of sanctuary, which was before possessed\nby the Imperial statues and by the Pagan temples, was accorded to the\nchurches. During the holy seasons of Lent and Easter, no criminal trials\ncould be held, and no criminal could be tortured or executed.(67)\nMiracles, it was said, were sometimes wrought to attest the innocence of\naccused or condemned men, but were never wrought to consign criminals to\nexecution by the civil power.(68)\n\nAll this had an importance much beyond its immediate effect in tempering\nthe administration of the law. It contributed largely to associate in the\npopular imagination the ideas of sanctity and of mercy, and to increase\nthe reverence for human life. It had also another remarkable effect, to\nwhich I have adverted in another work. The belief that it was wrong for a\npriest to bring any charge that could give rise to a capital sentence\ncaused the leading clergy to shrink from persecuting heresy to death, at a\ntime when in all other respects the theory of persecution had been fully\nmatured. When it was readily admitted that heresy was in the highest\ndegree criminal, and ought to be made penal, when laws banishing, fining,\nor imprisoning heretics filled the statute-book, and when every vestige of\nreligious liberty was suppressed at the instigation of the clergy, these\nstill shrank from the last and inevitable step, not because it was an\natrocious violation of the rights of conscience, but because it was\ncontrary to the ecclesiastical discipline for a bishop, under any\ncircumstances, to countenance bloodshed. It was on this ground that St.\nAugustine, while eagerly advocating the persecution of the Donatists, more\nthan once expressed a wish that they should not be punished with death,\nand that St. Ambrose, and St. Martin of Tours, who were both energetic\npersecutors, expressed their abhorrence of the Spanish bishops, who had\ncaused some Priscillianists to be executed. I have elsewhere noticed the\nodious hypocrisy of the later inquisitors, who relegated the execution of\nthe sentence to the civil power, with a prayer that the heretics should be\npunished \u201cas mildly as possible and without the effusion of blood,\u201d(69)\nwhich came at last to be interpreted, by the death of fire; but I may here\nadd, that this hideous mockery is not unique in the history of religion.\nPlutarch suggests that one of the reasons for burying unchaste vestals\nalive was that they were so sacred that it was unlawful to lay violent\nhands upon them,(70) and among the Donatists the Circumcelliones were for\na time accustomed to abstain, in obedience to the evangelical command,\nfrom the use of the sword, while they beat to death those who differed\nfrom their theological opinions with massive clubs, to which they gave the\nvery significant name of Israelites.(71)\n\nThe time came when the Christian priests shed blood enough. The extreme\nscrupulosity, however, which they at first displayed, is not only\nexceedingly curious when contrasted with their later history; it was also,\nby the association of ideas which it promoted, very favourable to\nhumanity. It is remarkable, however, that while some of the early Fathers\nwere the undoubted precursors of Beccaria, their teaching, unlike that of\nthe philosophers in the eighteenth century, had little or no appreciable\ninfluence in mitigating the severity of the penal code. Indeed, the more\ncarefully the Christian legislation of the Empire is examined, and the\nmore fully it is compared with what had been done under the influence of\nStoicism by the Pagan legislators, the more evident, I think, it will\nappear that the golden age of Roman law was not Christian, but Pagan.\nGreat works of codification were accomplished under the younger\nTheodosius, and under Justinian; but it was in the reign of Pagan\nemperors, and especially of Hadrian and Alexander Severus, that nearly all\nthe most important measures were taken, redressing injustices, elevating\noppressed classes, and making the doctrine of the natural equality and\nfraternity of mankind the basis of legal enactments. Receiving the\nheritage of these laws, the Christians, no doubt, added something; but a\ncareful examination will show that it was surprisingly little. In no\nrespect is the greatness of the Stoic philosophers more conspicuous than\nin the contrast between the gigantic steps of legal reform made in a few\nyears under their influence, and the almost insignificant steps taken when\nChristianity had obtained an ascendancy in the Empire, not to speak of the\nlong period of decrepitude that followed. In the way of mitigating the\nseverity of punishments, Constantine made, it is true, three important\nlaws prohibiting the custom of branding criminals upon the face, the\ncondemnation of criminals as gladiators, and the continuance of the once\ndegrading but now sacred punishment of crucifixion, which had been very\ncommonly employed; but these measures were more than counterbalanced by\nthe extreme severity with which the Christian emperors punished\ninfanticide, adultery, seduction, rape, and several other crimes, and the\nnumber of capital offences became considerably greater than before.(72)\nThe most prominent evidence, indeed, of ecclesiastical influence in the\nTheodosian code is that which must be most lamented. It is the immense\nmass of legislation, intended on the one hand to elevate the clergy into a\nseparate and sacred caste, and on the other to persecute in every form,\nand with every degree of violence, all who deviated from the fine line of\nCatholic orthodoxy.(73)\n\nThe last consequence of the Christian estimate of human life was a very\nemphatic condemnation of suicide. We have already seen that the arguments\nof the Pagan moralists, who were opposed to this act, were of four kinds.\nThe religious argument of Pythagoras and Plato was, that we are all\nsoldiers of God, placed in an appointed post of duty, which it is a\nrebellion against our Maker to desert. The civic argument of Aristotle and\nthe Greek legislators was that we owe our services to the State, and that\ntherefore voluntarily to abandon life is to abandon our duty to our\ncountry. The argument which Plutarch and other writers derived from human\ndignity was that true courage is shown in the manful endurance of\nsuffering, while suicide, being an act of flight, is an act of cowardice,\nand therefore unworthy of man. The mystical or Quietist argument of the\nNeoplatonists was that all perturbation is a pollution of the soul; that\nthe act of suicide is accompanied by, and springs from, perturbation, and\nthat therefore the perpetrator ends his days by a crime. Of these four\narguments, the last cannot, I think, be said to have had any place among\nthe Christian dissuasives from suicide, and the influence of the second\nwas almost imperceptible. The notion of patriotism being a moral duty was\nhabitually discouraged in the early Church; and it was impossible to urge\nthe civic argument against suicide without at the same time condemning the\nhermit life, which in the third century became the ideal of the Church.\nThe duty a man owes to his family, which a modern moralist would deem the\nmost obvious and, perhaps, the most conclusive proof of the general\ncriminality of suicide, and which may be said to have replaced the civic\nargument, was scarcely noticed either by the Pagans or the early\nChristians. The first were accustomed to lay so much stress upon the\nauthority, that they scarcely recognised the duties, of the father; and\nthe latter were too anxious to attach all their ethics to the interests of\nanother world, to do much to supply the omission. The Christian estimate\nof the duty of humility, and of the degradation of man, rendered appeals\nto human dignity somewhat uncongenial to the patristic writers; yet these\nwriters frequently dilated upon the true courage of patience, in language\nto which their own heroism under persecution gave a noble emphasis. To the\nexample of Cato they opposed those of Regulus and Job, the courage that\nendures suffering to the courage that confronts death. The Platonic\ndoctrine, that we are servants of the Deity, placed upon earth to perform\nour allotted task in His sight, with His assistance, and by His will, they\ncontinually enforced and most deeply realised; and this doctrine was in\nitself, in most cases, a sufficient preventive; for, as a great writer has\nsaid: \u201cThough there are many crimes of a deeper dye than suicide, there is\nno other by which men appear so formally to renounce the protection of\nGod.\u201d(74)\n\nBut, in addition to this general teaching, the Christian theologians\nintroduced into the sphere we are considering new elements both of\nterrorism and of persuasion, which have had a decisive influence upon the\njudgments of mankind. They carried their doctrine of the sanctity of human\nlife to such a point that they maintained dogmatically that a man who\ndestroys his own life has committed a crime similar both in kind and\nmagnitude to that of an ordinary murderer,(75) and they at the same time\ngave a new character to death by their doctrines concerning its penal\nnature and concerning the future destinies of the soul. On the other hand,\nthe high position assigned to resignation in the moral scale, the hope of\nfuture happiness, which casts a ray of light upon the darkest calamities\nof life, the deeper and more subtle consolations arising from the feeling\nof trust and from the outpouring of prayer, and, above all, the Christian\ndoctrine of the remedial and providential character of suffering, have\nproved sufficient protection against despair. The Christian doctrine, that\npain is a good, had in this respect an influence that was never attained\nby the Pagan doctrine, that pain is not an evil.\n\nThere were, however, two forms of suicide which were regarded in the early\nChurch with some tolerance or hesitation. During the frenzy excited by\npersecution, and under the influence of the belief that martyrdom effaced\nin a moment the sins of a life, and introduced the sufferer at once into\ncelestial joys, it was not uncommon for men, in a transport of enthusiasm,\nto rush before the Pagan judges, imploring or provoking martyrdom; and\nsome of the ecclesiastical writers have spoken of these men with\nconsiderable admiration,(76) though the general tone of the patristic\nwritings and the councils of the Church condemned them. A more serious\ndifficulty arose about Christian women who committed suicide to guard\ntheir chastity when menaced by the infamous sentences of their\npersecutors, or more frequently by the lust of emperors, or by barbarian\ninvaders. St. Pelagia, a girl of only fifteen, who has been canonised by\nthe Church, and who was warmly eulogised by St. Ambrose and St.\nChrysostom, having been captured by the soldiery, obtained permission to\nretire to her room for the purpose of robing herself, mounted to the roof\nof the house, and, flinging herself down, perished by the fall.(77) A\nChristian lady of Antioch, named Domnina, had two daughters renowned alike\nfor their beauty and their piety. Being captured during the Diocletian\npersecution, and fearing the loss of their chastity, they agreed by one\nbold act to free themselves from the danger, and, casting themselves into\na river by the way, mother and daughters sank unsullied in the wave.(78)\nThe tyrant Maxentius was fascinated by the beauty of a Christian lady, the\nwife of the Prefect of Rome. Having sought in vain to elude his addresses,\nhaving been dragged from her house by the minions of the tyrant, the\nfaithful wife obtained permission, before yielding to her master\u2019s\nembraces, to retire for a moment into her chamber, and she there, with\ntrue Roman courage, stabbed herself to the heart.(79) Some Protestant\ncontroversialists have been scandalised,(80) and some Catholic\ncontroversialists perplexed, by the undisguised admiration with which the\nearly ecclesiastical writers narrate these histories. To those who have\nnot suffered theological opinions to destroy all their natural sense of\nnobility it will need no defence.\n\nThis was the only form of avowed suicide which was in any degree permitted\nin the early Church. St. Ambrose rather timidly, and St. Jerome more\nstrongly, commended it; but at the time when the capture of Rome by the\nsoldiers of Alaric made the question one of pressing interest, St.\nAugustine devoted an elaborate examination to the subject, and while\nexpressing his pitying admiration for the virgin suicides, decidedly\ncondemned their act.(81) His opinion of the absolute sinfulness of suicide\nhas since been generally adopted by the Catholic theologians, who pretend\nthat Pelagia and Domnina acted under the impulse of a special\nrevelation.(82) At the same time, by a glaring though very natural\ninconsistency, no characters were more enthusiastically extolled than\nthose anchorites who habitually deprived their bodies of the sustenance\nthat was absolutely necessary to health, and thus manifestly abridged\ntheir lives. St. Jerome has preserved a curious illustration of the\nfeeling with which these slow suicides were regarded by the outer world,\nin his account of the life and death of a young nun named Blesilla. This\nlady had been guilty of what, according to the religious notions of the\nfourth century, was, at least, the frivolity of marrying, but was left a\nwidow seven months afterwards, having thus \u201clost at once the crown of\nvirginity and the pleasure of marriage.\u201d(83) An attack of illness inspired\nher with strong religious feelings. At the age of twenty she retired to a\nconvent. She attained such a height of devotion that, according to the\nvery characteristic eulogy of her biographer, \u201cshe was more sorry for the\nloss of her virginity than for the decease of her husband;\u201d(84) and a long\nsuccession of atrocious penances preceded, if they did not produce, her\ndeath.(85) The conviction that she had been killed by fasting, and the\nspectacle of the uncontrollable grief of her mother, filled the populace\nwith indignation, and the funeral was disturbed by tumultuous cries that\nthe \u201caccursed race of monks should be banished from the city, stoned, or\ndrowned.\u201d(86) In the Church itself, however, we find very few traces of\nany condemnation of the custom of undermining the constitution by\nausterities,(87) and if we may believe but a small part of what is related\nof the habits of the early and medi\u00e6val monks, great numbers of them must\nhave thus shortened their days. There is a touching story told by St.\nBonaventura, of St. Francis Assisi, who was one of these victims to\nasceticism. As the dying saint sank back exhausted with spitting blood, he\navowed, as he looked upon his emaciated body, that \u201che had sinned against\nhis brother, the ass;\u201d and then, the feeling of his mind taking, as was\nusual with him, the form of an hallucination, he imagined that, when at\nprayer during the night, he heard a voice saying: \u201cFrancis, there is no\nsinner in the world whom, if he be converted, God will not pardon; but he\nwho kills himself by hard penances will find no mercy in eternity.\u201d He\nattributed the voice to the devil.(88)\n\nDirect and deliberate suicide, which occupies so prominent a place in the\nmoral history of antiquity, almost absolutely disappeared within the\nChurch; but beyond its pale the Circumcelliones, in the fourth century,\nconstituted themselves the apostles of death, and not only carried to the\nhighest point the custom of provoking martyrdom, by challenging and\ninsulting the assemblies of the Pagans, but even killed themselves in\ngreat numbers, imagining, it would seem, that this was a form of\nmartyrdom, and would secure for them eternal salvation. Assembling in\nhundreds, St. Augustine says even in thousands, they leaped with paroxysms\nof frantic joy from the brows of overhanging cliffs, till the rocks below\nwere reddened with their blood.(89) At a much later period, we find among\nthe Albigenses a practice, known by the name of Endura, of accelerating\ndeath, in the case of dangerous illness, by fasting, and sometimes by\nbleeding.(90) The wretched Jews, stung to madness by the persecution of\nthe Catholics, furnish the most numerous examples of suicide during the\nmiddle ages. A multitude perished by their own hands, to avoid torture, in\nFrance, in 1095; five hundred, it is said, on a single occasion at York;\nfive hundred in 1320, when besieged by the Shepherds. The old Pagan\nlegislation on this subject remained unaltered in the Theodosian and\nJustinian codes; but a Council of Arles, in the fifth century, having\npronounced suicide to be the effect of diabolical inspiration, a Council\nof Bragues, in the following century, ordained that no religious rites\nshould be celebrated at the tomb of the culprit, and that no masses should\nbe said for his soul; and these provisions, which were repeated by later\nCouncils, were gradually introduced into the laws of the barbarians and of\nCharlemagne. St. Lewis originated the custom of confiscating the property\nof the dead man, and the corpse was soon subjected to gross and various\noutrages. In some countries it could only be removed from the house\nthrough a perforation specially made for the occasion in the wall; it was\ndragged upon a hurdle through the streets, hung up with the head\ndownwards, and at last thrown into the public sewer, or burnt, or buried\nin the sand below high-water mark, or transfixed by a stake on the public\nhighway.(91)\n\nThese singularly hideous and at the same time grotesque customs, and also\nthe extreme injustice of reducing to beggary the unhappy relations of the\ndead, had the very natural effect of exciting, in the eighteenth century,\na strong spirit of reaction. Suicide is indeed one of those acts which may\nbe condemned by moralists as a sin, but which, in modern times at least,\ncannot be regarded as within the legitimate sphere of law; for a society\nwhich accords to its members perfect liberty of emigration, cannot\nreasonably pronounce the simple renunciation of life to be an offence\nagainst itself. When, however, Beccaria and his followers went further,\nand maintained that the medi\u00e6val laws on the subject were as impotent as\nthey were revolting, they fell, I think, into serious error. The outrages\nlavished upon the corpse of the suicide, though in the first instance an\nexpression of the popular horror of his act, contributed, by the\nassociations they formed, to strengthen the feeling that produced them,\nand they were also peculiarly fitted to scare the diseased, excited, and\noversensitive imaginations that are most prone to suicide. In the rare\noccasions when the act was deliberately contemplated, the knowledge that\nreligious, legislative, and social influences would combine to aggravate\nto the utmost the agony of the surviving relatives, must have had great\nweight. The activity of the Legislature shows the continuance of the act;\nbut we have every reason to believe that within the pale of Catholicism it\nwas for many centuries extremely rare. It is said to have been somewhat\nprevalent in Spain in the last and most corrupt period of the Gothic\nkingdom,(92) and many instances occurred during a great pestilence which\nraged in England in the seventh century,(93) and also during the Black\nDeath of the fourteenth century.(94) When the wives of priests were\nseparated in vast numbers from their husbands by Hildebrand, and driven\ninto the world blasted, heart-broken, and hopeless, not a few of them\nshortened their agony by suicide.(95) Among women it was in general\nespecially rare; and a learned historian of suicide has even asserted that\na Spanish lady, who, being separated from her husband, and finding herself\nunable to resist the energy of her passions, killed herself rather than\nyield to temptation, is the only instance of female suicide during several\ncenturies.(96) In the romances of chivalry, however, this mode of death is\nfrequently pourtrayed without horror,(97) and its criminality was\ndiscussed at considerable length by Abelard and St. Thomas Aquinas, while\nDante has devoted some fine lines to painting the condition of suicides in\nhell, where they are also frequently represented in the bas-reliefs of\ncathedrals. A melancholy leading to desperation, and known to theologians\nunder the name of \u201cacedia,\u201d was not uncommon in monasteries, and most of\nthe recorded instances of medi\u00e6val suicides in Catholicism were by monks.\nThe frequent suicides of monks, sometimes to escape the world, sometimes\nthrough despair at their inability to quell the propensities of the body,\nsometimes through insanity produced by their mode of life, and by their\ndread of surrounding demons, were noticed in the early Church,(98) and a\nfew examples have been gleaned, from the medi\u00e6val chronicles,(99) of\nsuicides produced by the bitterness of hopeless love, or by the\nderangement that follows extreme austerity. These are, however, but few;\nand it is probable that the monasteries, by providing a refuge for the\ndisappointed and the broken-hearted, have prevented more suicides than\nthey have caused, and that, during the whole period of Catholic\nascendancy, the act was more rare than before or after. The influence of\nCatholicism was seconded by Mohammedanism, which, on this as on many other\npoints, borrowed its teaching from the Christian Church, and even\nintensified it; for suicide, which is never expressly condemned in the\nBible, is more than once forbidden in the Koran, and the Christian duty of\nresignation was exaggerated by the Moslem into a complete fatalism. Under\nthe empire of Catholicism and Mohammedanism, suicide, during many\ncenturies, almost absolutely ceased in all the civilised, active, and\nprogressive part of mankind. When we recollect how warmly it was\napplauded, or how faintly it was condemned, in the civilisation of Greece\nand Rome; when we remember, too, that there was scarcely a barbarous\ntribe, from Denmark to Spain, who did not habitually practise it,(100) we\nmay realise the complete revolution which was effected in this sphere by\nthe influence of Christianity.\n\nA few words may be added on the later phases of this mournful history. The\nReformation does not seem to have had any immediate effect in multiplying\nsuicide, for Protestants and Catholics held with equal intensity the\nreligious sentiments which are most fitted to prevent it, and in none of\nthe persecutions was impatience of life largely displayed. The history at\nthis period passes chiefly into the new world, where the unhappy Indians,\nreduced to slavery, and treated with atrocious cruelty by their\nconquerors, killed themselves in great numbers; till the Spaniards, it is\nsaid, discovered an ingenious method of deterring them, by declaring that\nthe master also would commit suicide, and would pursue his victims into\nthe world of spirits.(101) In Europe the act was very common among the\nwitches, who underwent all the sufferings with none of the consolations of\nmartyrdom. Without enthusiasm, without hope, without even the\nconsciousness of innocence, decrepit in body, and distracted in mind,\ncompelled in this world to endure tortures, before which the most\nimpassioned heroism might quail, and doomed, as they often believed, to\neternal damnation in the next, they not unfrequently killed themselves in\nthe agony of their despair. A French judge named Remy tells us that he\nknew no less than fifteen witches commit suicide in a single year.(102) In\nthese cases, fear and madness combined in urging the victims to the deed.\nEpidemics of purely insane suicide have also not unfrequently occurred.\nBoth the women of Marseilles and the women of Lyons were afflicted with an\nepidemic not unlike that which, in antiquity, had been noticed among the\ngirls of Miletus.(103) In that strange mania which raged in the Neapolitan\ndistricts from the end of the fifteenth to the end of the seventeenth\ncentury, and which was attributed to the bite of the tarantula, the\npatients thronged in multitudes towards the sea, and often, as the blue\nwaters opened to their view, they chanted a wild hymn of welcome, and\nrushed with passion into the waves.(104) But together with these cases,\nwhich belong rather to the history of medicine than to that of morals, we\nfind many facts exhibiting a startling increase of deliberate suicide, and\na no less startling modification of the sentiments with which it was\nregarded. The revival of classical learning, and the growing custom of\nregarding Greek and Roman heroes as ideals, necessarily brought the\nsubject into prominence. The Catholic casuists, and at a later period\nphilosophers of the school of Grotius and Puffendorf, began to distinguish\ncertain cases of legitimate suicide, such as that committed to avoid\ndishonour or probable sin, or that of the soldier who fires a mine,\nknowing he must inevitably perish by the explosion, or that of a condemned\nperson who saves himself from torture by anticipating an inevitable fate,\nor that of a man who offers himself to death for his friend.(105) The\neffect of the Pagan examples may frequently be detected in the last words\nor writings of the suicides. Philip Strozzi, when accused of the\nassassination of Alexander I. of Tuscany, killed himself through fear that\ntorture might extort from him revelations injurious to his friends, and he\nleft behind him a paper in which, among other things, he commended his\nsoul to God, with the prayer that, if no higher boon could be granted, he\nmight at least be permitted to have his place with Cato of Utica and the\nother great suicides of antiquity.(106) In England, the act appears in the\nseventeenth century and in the first half of the eighteenth to have been\nmore common than upon the Continent,(107) and several partial or even\nunqualified apologies for it were written. Sir Thomas More, in his\n\u201cUtopia,\u201d represented the priests and magistrates of his ideal republic\npermitting or even enjoining those who were afflicted with incurable\ndisease to kill themselves, but depriving of burial those who had done so\nwithout authorisation.(108) Dr. Donne, the learned and pious Dean of St.\nPaul\u2019s, had in his youth written an extremely curious, subtle, and\nlearned, but at the same time feeble and involved, work in defence of\nsuicide, which on his deathbed he commanded his son neither to publish nor\ndestroy, and which his son published in 1644. Two or three English\nsuicides left behind them elaborate defences, as did also a Swede named\nRobeck, who drowned himself in 1735, and whose treatise, published in the\nfollowing year, acquired considerable celebrity.(109) But the most\ninfluential writings about suicide were those of the French philosophers\nand revolutionists. Montaigne, without discussing its abstract lawfulness,\nrecounts, with much admiration, many of the instances in antiquity.(110)\nMontesquieu, in a youthful work, defended it with ardent enthusiasm.(111)\nRousseau devoted to the subject two letters of a burning and passionate\neloquence,(112) in the first of which he presented with matchless power\nthe arguments in its favour, while in the second he denounced those\narguments as sophistical, dilated upon the impiety of abandoning the post\nof duty, and upon the cowardice of despair, and with a deep knowledge of\nthe human heart revealed the selfishness that lies at the root of most\nsuicide, exhorting all who felt impelled to it to set about some work for\nthe good of others, in which they would assuredly find relief. Voltaire,\nin the best-known couplet he ever wrote, defends the act on occasions of\nextreme necessity.(113) Among the atheistical party it was warmly\neulogised, and Holbach and Deslandes were prominent as its defenders. The\nrapid decomposition of religious opinions weakened the popular sense of\nits enormity, and at the same time the humanity of the age, and also a\nclearer sense of the true limits of legislation, produced a reaction\nagainst the horrible laws on the subject. Grotius had defended them.\nMontesquieu at first denounced them with unqualified energy, but in his\nlater years in some degree modified his opinions. Beccaria, who was, more\nthan any other writer, the representative of the opinions of the French\nschool on such matters, condemned them partly as unjust to the innocent\nsurvivors, partly as incapable of deterring any man who was resolved upon\nthe act. Even in 1749, in the full blaze of the philosophic movement, we\nfind a suicide named Portier dragged through the streets of Paris with his\nface to the ground, hung from a gallows by his feet, and then thrown into\nthe sewers;(114) and the laws were not abrogated till the Revolution,\nwhich, having founded so many other forms of freedom, accorded the liberty\nof death. Amid the dramatic vicissitudes, and the fierce enthusiasm of\nthat period of convulsions, suicides immediately multiplied. \u201cThe world,\u201d\nit was said, had been \u201cempty since the Romans.\u201d(115) For a brief period,\nand in this one country, the action of Christianity appeared suspended.\nMen seemed to be transported again into the age of Paganism, and the\nsuicides, though more theatrical, were perpetrated with no less\ndeliberation, and eulogised with no less enthusiasm, than among the\nStoics. But the tide of revolution passed away, and with some\nqualifications the old opinions resumed their authority. The laws against\nsuicide were, indeed, for the most part abolished. In France and several\nother lands there exists no legislation on the subject. In other countries\nthe law simply enjoins burial without religious ceremonies. In England,\nthe burial in a highway and the mutilation by a stake were abolished under\nGeorge IV.; but the monstrous injustice of confiscating to the Crown the\nentire property of the deliberate suicide still disgraces the\nstatute-book, though the force of public opinion and the charitable\nperjury of juries render it inoperative.\n\nThe common sentiment of Christendom has, however, ratified the judgment\nwhich the Christian teachers pronounced upon the act, though it has\nsomewhat modified the severity of the old censure, and has abandoned some\nof the old arguments. It was reserved for Madame de Sta\u00ebl, who, in a\nyouthful work upon the Passions, had commended suicide, to reconstruct\nthis department of ethics, which had been somewhat disturbed by the\nRevolution, and she did so in a little treatise which is a model of calm,\ncandid, and philosophic piety. Frankly abandoning the old theological\nnotions that the deed is of the nature of murder, that it is the worst of\ncrimes, and that it is always, or even generally, the offspring of\ncowardice; abandoning, too, all attempts to scare men by religious\nterrorism, she proceeded, not so much to meet in detail the isolated\narguments of its defenders, as to sketch the ideal of a truly virtuous\nman, and to show how such a character would secure men against all\ntemptation to suicide. In pages of the most tender beauty, she traced the\ninfluence of suffering in softening, purifying, and deepening the\ncharacter, and showed how a frame of habitual and submissive resignation\nwas not only the highest duty, but also the source of the purest\nconsolation, and at the same time the appointed condition of moral\namelioration. Having examined in detail the Biblical aspect of the\nquestion, she proceeded to show how the true measure of the dignity of man\nis his unselfishness. She contrasted the martyr with the suicide\u2014the death\nwhich springs from devotion to duty with the death that springs from\nrebellion against circumstances. The suicide of Cato, which had been\nabsurdly denounced by a crowd of ecclesiastics as an act of cowardice, and\nas absurdly alleged by many suicides as a justification for flying from\npain or poverty, she represented as an act of martyrdom\u2014a death like that\nof Curtius, accepted nobly for the benefit of Rome. The eye of the good\nman should be for ever fixed upon the interest of others. For them he\nshould be prepared to relinquish life with all its blessings. For them he\nshould be prepared to tolerate life, even when it seemed to him a curse.\n\nSentiments of this kind have, through the influence of Christianity,\nthoroughly pervaded European society, and suicide, in modern times, is\nalmost always found to have sprung either from absolute insanity; from\ndiseases which, though not amounting to insanity, are yet sufficient to\ndiscolour our judgments; or from that last excess of sorrow, when\nresignation and hope are both extinct. Considering it in this light, I\nknow few things more fitted to qualify the optimism we so often hear than\nthe fact that statistics show it to be rapidly increasing, and to be\npeculiarly characteristic of those nations which rank most high in\nintellectual development and in general civilisation.(116) In one or two\ncountries, strong religious feeling has counteracted the tendency; but the\ncomparison of town and country, of different countries, of different\nprovinces of the same country, and of different periods in history, proves\nconclusively its reality. Many reasons may be alleged to explain it.\nMental occupations are peculiarly fitted to produce insanity,(117) and the\nblaze of publicity, which in modern time encircles an act of suicide, to\ndraw weak minds to its imitation. If we put the condition of absolutely\nsavage life, out of our calculation, it is probable that a highly\ndeveloped civilisation, while it raises the average of well-being, is\naccompanied by more extreme misery and acute sufferings than the simpler\nstages that had preceded it. Nomadic habits, the vast agglomeration of men\nin cities, the pressure of a fierce competition, and the sudden\nfluctuations to which manufactures are peculiarly liable, are the\nconditions of great prosperity, but also the causes of the most profound\nmisery. Civilisation makes many of what once were superfluities,\nnecessaries of life, so that their loss inflicts a pang long after their\npossession had ceased to be a pleasure. It also, by softening the\ncharacter, renders it peculiarly sensitive to pain, and it brings with it\na long train of antipathies, passions, and diseased imaginations, which\nrarely or never cross the thoughts or torture the nerves of the simple\npeasant. The advance of religious scepticism, and the relaxation of\nreligious discipline, have weakened and sometimes destroyed the horror of\nsuicide; and the habits of self-assertion, the eager and restless\nambitions which political liberty, intellectual activity, and\nmanufacturing enterprise, all in their different ways conspire to foster,\nwhile they are the very principles and conditions of the progress of our\nage, render the virtue of content in all its forms extremely rare, and are\npeculiarly unpropitious to the formation of that spirit of humble and\nsubmissive resignation which alone can mitigate the agony of hopeless\nsuffering.\n\n                  \u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\n\nFrom examining the effect of Christianity in promoting a sense of the\nsanctity of human life, we may now pass to an adjoining field, and examine\nits influence in promoting a fraternal and philanthropic sentiment among\nmankind. And first of all we may notice its effects upon slavery.\n\nThe reader will remember the general position this institution occupied in\nthe eyes of the Stoic moralists, and under the legislation which they had\nin a great measure inspired. The legitimacy of slavery was fully\nrecognised; but Seneca and other moralists had asserted, in the very\nstrongest terms, the natural equality of mankind, the superficial\ncharacter of the differences between the slave and his master, and the\nduty of the most scrupulous humanity to the former. Instances of a very\nwarm sympathy between master and slave were of frequent occurrence; but\nthey may unfortunately be paralleled by not a few examples of the most\natrocious cruelty. To guard against such cruelty, a long series of\nenactments, based avowedly upon the Stoical principle of the essential\nequality of mankind, had been made under Hadrian, the Antonines, and\nAlexander Severus. Not to recapitulate at length what has been mentioned\nin a former chapter, it is sufficient to remind the reader that the right\nof life and death had been definitely withdrawn from the master, and that\nthe murder of a slave was stigmatised and punished by the law. It had,\nhowever, been laid down, by the great lawyer Paul, that homicide implies\nan intention to kill, and that therefore the master was not guilty of that\ncrime if his slave died under chastisement which was not administered with\nthis intention. But the licence of punishment which this decision might\ngive was checked by laws which forbade excessive cruelty to slaves,\nprovided that, when it was proved, they should be sold to another master,\nsuppressed the private prisons in which they had been immured, and\nappointed special officers to receive their complaints.\n\nIn the field of legislation, for about two hundred years after the\nconversion of Constantine, the progress was extremely slight. The\nChristian emperors, in A.D. 319 and 326, adverted in two elaborate laws to\nthe subject of the murder of slaves,(118) but, beyond reiterating in very\nemphatic terms the previous enactments, it is not easy to see in what way\nthey improved the condition of the class.(119) They provided that any\nmaster who applied to his slave certain atrocious tortures, that are\nenumerated, with the object of killing him, should be deemed a homicide,\nbut if the slave died under moderate punishment, or under any punishment\nnot intended to kill him, the master should be blameless; no charge\nwhatever, it was emphatically said, should be brought against him. It has\nbeen supposed, though I think without evidence, by commentators(120) that\nthis law accorded immunity to the master only when the slave perished\nunder the application of \u201cappropriate\u201d or servile punishments\u2014that is to\nsay, scourging, irons, or imprisonment; but the use of torture not\nintended to kill was in no degree restricted, nor is there anything in the\nlaw to make it appear either that the master was liable to punishment, if\ncontrary to his intention his slave succumbed beneath torture, or that\nConstantine proposed any penalty for excessive cruelty which did not\nresult in death. It is, perhaps, not out of place to observe, that this\nlaw was in remarkable harmony with the well-known article of the Jewish\ncode, which provided that if a slave, wounded to death by his master,\nlinger for a day or two, the master should not be punished, for the slave\nwas his money.(121)\n\nThe two features that were most revolting in the slave system, as it\npassed from the Pagan to the Christian emperors, were the absolute want of\nlegal recognition of slave marriage, and the licence of torturing still\nconceded to the master. The Christian emperors before Justinian took no\nserious steps to remedy either of these evils, and the measures that were\ntaken against adultery still continued inapplicable to slave unions,\nbecause \u201cthe vileness of their condition makes them unworthy of the\nobservation of the law.\u201d(122) The abolition of the punishment of\ncrucifixion had, however, a special value to the slave class, and a very\nmerciful law of Constantine forbade the separation of the families of the\nslaves.(123) Another law, which in its effects was perhaps still more\nimportant, imparted a sacred character to manumission, ordaining that the\nceremony should be celebrated in the Church,(124) and permitting it on\nSundays. Some measures were also taken, providing for the freedom of the\nChristian slaves of Jewish masters, and, in two or three cases, freedom\nwas offered as a bribe to slaves, to induce them to inform against\ncriminals. Intermarriage between the free and slave classes was still\nstrictly forbidden, and if a free woman had improper intercourse with her\nslave, Constantine ordered that the woman should be executed and the slave\nburnt alive.(125) By the Pagan law, the woman had been simply reduced to\nslavery. The laws against fugitive slaves were also rendered more\nsevere.(126)\n\nThis legislation may on the whole be looked upon as a progress, but it\ncertainly does not deserve the enthusiasm which ecclesiastical writers\nhave sometimes bestowed upon it. For about two hundred years, there was an\nalmost absolute pause in the legislation on this subject. Some slight\nrestrictions were, however, imposed upon the use of torture in trials;\nsome slight additional facilities of manumission were given, and some very\natrocious enactments made to prevent slaves accusing their masters.\nAccording to that of Gratian, any slave who accused his master of any\noffence, except high treason, should immediately be burnt alive, without\nany investigation of the justice of the charge.(127)\n\nUnder Justinian, however, new and very important measures were taken. In\nno other sphere were the laws of this emperor so indisputably an advance\nupon those of his predecessors. His measures may be comprised under three\nheads. In the first place, all the restrictions upon enfranchisement which\nhad accumulated under the Pagan legislation were abolished; the legislator\nproclaimed in emphatic language, and by the provisions of many laws, his\ndesire to encourage manumission, and free scope was thus given to the\naction of the Church. In the second place, the freedmen, considered as an\nintermediate class between the slave and the citizen, were virtually\nabolished, all or nearly all the privileges accorded to the citizen being\ngranted to the emancipated slave. This was the most important contribution\nof the Christian emperors to that great amalgamation of nations and\nclasses which had been advancing since the days of Augustus; and one of\nits effects was, that any person, even of senatorial rank, might marry a\nslave when he had first emancipated her. In the third place, a slave was\npermitted to marry a free woman with the authorisation of his master, and\nchildren born in slavery became the legal heirs of their emancipated\nfather. The rape of a slave woman was also in this reign punished, like\nthat of a free woman, by death.(128)\n\nBut, important as were these measures, it is not in the field of\nlegislation that we must chiefly look for the influence of Christianity\nupon slavery. This influence was indeed very great, but it is necessary\ncarefully to define its nature. The prohibition of all slavery, which was\none of the peculiarities of the Jewish Essenes, and the illegitimacy of\nhereditary slavery, which was one of the speculations of the Stoic Dion\nChrysostom, had no place in the ecclesiastical teaching. Slavery was\ndistinctly and formally recognised by Christianity,(129) and no religion\never laboured more to encourage a habit of docility and passive obedience.\nMuch was indeed said by the Fathers about the natural equality of mankind,\nabout the duty of regarding slaves as brothers or companions, and about\nthe heinousness of cruelty to them; but all this had been said with at\nleast equal force, though it had not been disseminated over an equally\nwide area, by Seneca and Epictetus, and the principle of the original\nfreedom of all men was repeatedly averred by the Pagan lawyers. The\nservices of Christianity in this sphere were of three kinds. It supplied a\nnew order of relations, in which the distinction of classes was unknown.\nIt imparted a moral dignity to the servile classes, and it gave an\nunexampled impetus to the movement of enfranchisement.\n\nThe first of these services was effected by the Church ceremonies and the\npenitential discipline. In these spheres, from which the Christian mind\nderived its earliest, its deepest, and its most enduring impressions, the\ndifference between the master and his slave was unknown. They received the\nsacred elements together, they sat side by side at the agape, they mingled\nin the public prayers. In the penal system of the Church, the distinction\nbetween wrongs done to a freeman, and wrongs done to a slave, which lay at\nthe very root of the whole civil legislation, was repudiated. At a time\nwhen, by the civil law, a master, whose slave died as a consequence of\nexcessive scourging, was absolutely unpunished, the Council of Illiberis\nexcluded that master for ever from the communion.(130) The chastity of\nfemale slaves, for the protection of which the civil law made but little\nprovision, was sedulously guarded by the legislation of the Church. Slave\nbirth, moreover, was no disqualification for entering into the priesthood;\nand an emancipated slave, regarded as the dispenser of spiritual life and\ndeath, often saw the greatest and the most wealthy kneeling humbly at his\nfeet imploring his absolution or his benediction.(131)\n\nIn the next place, Christianity imparted a moral dignity to the servile\nclass. It did this not only by associating poverty and labour with that\nmonastic life which was so profoundly revered, but also by introducing new\nmodifications into the ideal type of morals. There is no fact more\nprominent in the Roman writers than the profound contempt with which they\nregarded slaves, not so much on account of their position, as on account\nof the character which that position had formed. A servile character was a\nsynonym for a vicious one. Cicero had declared that nothing great or noble\ncould exist in a slave, and the plays of Plautus exhibit the same estimate\nin every scene. There were, it is true, some exceptions. Epictetus had not\nonly been, but had been recognised as one of the noblest characters of\nRome. The fidelity of slaves to their masters had been frequently\nextolled, and Seneca in this, as in other respects, had been the defender\nof the oppressed. Still there can be no doubt that this contempt was\ngeneral, and also that in the Pagan world it was to a great extent just.\nEvery age has its own moral ideal, to which all virtuous men aspire. Every\nsphere of life has also a tendency to produce a distinctive type being\nspecially favourable to some particular class of virtues, and specially\nunfavourable to others. The popular estimate, and even the real moral\ncondition, of each class depends chiefly upon the degree in which the type\nof character its position naturally develops, coincides with the ideal\ntype of the age. Now, if we remember that magnanimity, self-reliance,\ndignity, independence, and, in a word, elevation of character, constituted\nthe Roman ideal of perfection, it will appear evident that this was\npreeminently the type of freemen, and that the condition of slavery was in\nthe very highest degree unfavourable to its development. Christianity for\nthe first time gave the servile virtues the foremost place in the moral\ntype. Humility, obedience, gentleness, patience, resignation, are all\ncardinal or rudimentary virtues in the Christian character; they were all\nneglected or underrated by the Pagans; they can all expand and flourish in\na servile position.\n\nThe influence of Christianity upon slavery, by inclining the moral type to\nthe servile classes, though less obvious and less discussed than some\nothers, is, I believe, in the very highest degree important. There is,\nprobably, scarcely any other single circumstance that exercises so\nprofound an influence upon the social and political relations of a\nreligion, as the class type with which it can most readily assimilate; or,\nin other words, the group or variety of virtues to which it gives the\nforemost place. The virtues that are most suited to the servile position\nwere in general so little honoured by antiquity that they were not even\ncultivated in their appropriate sphere. The aspirations of good men were\nin a different direction. The virtue of the Stoic, which rose triumphantly\nunder adversity, nearly always withered under degradation. For the first\ntime, under the influence of Christianity, a great moral movement passed\nthrough the servile class. The multitude of slaves who embraced the new\nfaith was one of the reproaches of the Pagans; and the names of Blandina,\nPotami\u00e6na, Eutyches, Victorinus, and Nereus, show how fully they shared in\nthe sufferings and in the glory of martyrdom (132). The first and grandest\nedifice of Byzantine architecture in Italy\u2014the noble church of St. Vital,\nat Ravenna\u2014was dedicated by Justinian to the memory of a martyred slave.\n\nWhile Christianity thus broke down the contempt with which the master had\nregarded his slaves, and planted among the latter a principle of moral\nregeneration which expanded in no other sphere with an equal perfection,\nits action in procuring the freedom of the slave was unceasing. The law of\nConstantine, which placed the ceremony under the superintendence of the\nclergy, and the many laws that gave special facilities of manumission to\nthose who desired to enter the monasteries or the priesthood, symbolised\nthe religious character the act had assumed. It was celebrated on Church\nfestivals, especially at Easter; and, although it was not proclaimed a\nmatter of duty or necessity, it was always regarded as one of the most\nacceptable modes of expiating past sins. St. Melania was said to have\nemancipated 8,000 slaves; St. Ovidius, a rich martyr of Gaul, 5,000;\nChromatius, a Roman prefect under Diocletian, 1,400; Hermes, a prefect in\nthe reign of Trajan, 1,250.(133) Pope St. Gregory, many of the clergy at\nHippo under the rule of St. Augustine, as well as great numbers of private\nindividuals, freed their slaves as an act of piety.(134) It became\ncustomary to do so on occasions of national or personal thanksgiving, on\nrecovery from sickness, on the birth of a child, at the hour of death,\nand, above all, in testamentary bequests.(135) Numerous charters and\nepitaphs still record the gift of liberty to slaves throughout the middle\nages, \u201cfor the benefit of the soul\u201d of the donor or testator. In the\nthirteenth century, when there were no slaves to emancipate in France, it\nwas usual in many churches to release caged pigeons on the ecclesiastical\nfestivals, in memory of the ancient charity, and that prisoners might\nstill be freed in the name of Christ.(136)\n\nSlavery, however, lasted in Europe for about 800 years after Constantine,\nand during the period with which alone this volume is concerned, although\nits character was changed and mitigated, the number of men who were\nsubject to it was probably greater than in the Pagan Empire. In the West\nthe barbarian conquests modified the conditions of labour in two\ndirections. The cessation of the stream of barbarian captives, the\nimpoverishment of great families, who had been surrounded by vast retinues\nof slaves, the general diminution of town life, and the barbarian habits\nof personal independence, checked the old form of slavery, while the\nmisery and the precarious condition of the free peasants induced them in\ngreat numbers to barter their liberty for protection by the neighbouring\nlord.(137) In the East, the destruction of great fortunes through\nexcessive taxation diminished the number of superfluous slaves; and the\nfiscal system of the Byzantine Empire, by which agricultural slaves were\ntaxed according to their employments,(138) as well as the desire of\nemperors to encourage agriculture, led the legislators to attach the\nslaves permanently to the soil. In the course of time, almost the entire\nfree peasantry, and the greater number of the old slaves, had sunk or\nrisen into the qualified slavery called serfdom, which formed the basis of\nthe great edifice of feudalism. Towards the end of the eighth century, the\nsale of slaves beyond their native provinces was in most countries\nprohibited.(139) The creation of the free cities of Italy, the custom of\nemancipating slaves who were enrolled in the army, and economical changes\nwhich made free labour more profitable than slave labour, conspired with\nreligious motives in effecting the ultimate freedom of labour. The\npractice of manumitting, as an act of devotion, continued to the end; but\nthe ecclesiastics, probably through the feeling that they had no right to\nalienate corporate property, in which they had only a life interest, were\namong the last to follow the counsels they so liberally bestowed upon the\nlaity.(140) In the twelfth century, however, slaves in Europe were very\nrare. In the fourteenth century, slavery was almost unknown.(141)\n\nClosely connected with the influence of the Church in destroying\nhereditary slavery, was its influence in redeeming captives from\nservitude. In no other form of charity was its beneficial character more\ncontinually and more splendidly displayed. During the long and dreary\ntrials of the barbarian invasions, when the whole structure of society was\ndislocated, when vast districts and mighty cities were in a few months\nalmost depopulated, and when the flower of the youth of Italy were mown\ndown by the sword, or carried away into captivity, the bishops never\ndesisted from their efforts to alleviate the sufferings of the prisoners.\nSt. Ambrose, disregarding the outcries of the Arians, who denounced his\nact as atrocious sacrilege, sold the rich church ornaments of Milan to\nrescue some captives who had fallen into the hands of the Goths, and this\npractice\u2014which was afterwards formally sanctioned by St. Gregory the\nGreat\u2014became speedily general. When the Roman army had captured, but\nrefused to support, seven thousand Persian prisoners, Acacius, Bishop of\nAmida, undeterred by the bitter hostility of the Persians to Christianity,\nand declaring that \u201cGod had no need of plates or dishes,\u201d sold all the\nrich church ornaments of his diocese, rescued the unbelieving prisoners,\nand sent them back unharmed to their king. During the horrors of the\nVandal invasion, Deogratias, Bishop of Carthage, took a similar step to\nransom the Roman prisoners. St. Augustine, St. Gregory the Great, St.\nC\u00e6sarius of Arles, St. Exuperius of Toulouse, St. Hilary, St. Remi, all\nmelted down or sold their church vases to free prisoners. St. Cyprian sent\na large sum for the same purpose to the Bishop of Nicomedia. St.\nEpiphanius and St. Avitus, in conjunction with a rich Gaulish lady named\nSyagria, are said to have rescued thousands. St. Eligius devoted to this\nobject his entire fortune. St. Paulinus of Nola displayed a similar\ngenerosity, and the legends even assert, though untruly, that he, like St.\nPeter Teleonarius and St. Serapion, having exhausted all other forms of\ncharity, as a last gift sold himself to slavery. When, long afterwards,\nthe Mohammedan conquests in a measure reproduced the calamities of the\nbarbarian invasions, the same unwearied charity was displayed. The\nTrinitarian monks, founded by John of Matha in the twelfth century, were\ndevoted to the release of Christian captives, and another society was\nfounded with the same object by Peter Nolasco, in the following\ncentury.(142)\n\nThe different branches of the subject I am examining are so closely\nintertwined that it is difficult to investigate one without in a measure\nanticipating the others. While discussing the influence of the Church in\nprotecting infancy, in raising the estimate of human life, and in\nalleviating slavery, I have trenched largely upon the last application of\nthe doctrine of Christian fraternity I must examine\u2014I mean the foundation\nof charity. The difference between Pagan and Christian societies in this\nmatter is very profound; but a great part of it must be ascribed to causes\nother than religious opinions. Charity finds an extended scope for action\nonly, where there exists a large class of men at once independent and\nimpoverished. In the ancient societies, slavery in a great measure\nreplaced pauperism, and, by securing the subsistence of a very large\nproportion of the poor, contracted the sphere of charity. And what slavery\ndid at Rome for the very poor, the system of clientage did for those of a\nsomewhat higher rank. The existence of these two institutions is\nsufficient to show the injustice of judging the two societies by a mere\ncomparison of their charitable institutions, and we must also remember\nthat among the ancients the relief of the indigent was one of the most\nimportant functions of the State. Not to dwell upon the many measures\ntaken with this object in ancient Greece, in considering the condition of\nthe Roman poor we are at once met by the simple fact that for several\ncenturies the immense majority of these were habitually supported by\ngratuitous distributions of corn. In a very early period of Roman history\nwe find occasional instances of distribution; but it was not till A.U.C.\n630 that Caius Gracchus caused a law to be made, supplying the poorer\nclasses with corn at a price that was little more than nominal; and\nalthough, two years after, the nobles succeeded in revoking this law, it\nwas after several fluctuations finally re-enacted in A.U.C. 679. The\nCassia-Terentia law, as it was called from the consuls under whom it was\nat last established, was largely extended in its operation, or, as some\nthink, revived from neglect in A.U.C. 691, by Cato of Utica, who desired\nby this means to divert popularity from the cause of C\u00e6sar, under whom\nmultitudes of the poor were enrolling themselves. Four years later,\nClodius Pulcher, abolishing the small payment which had been demanded,\nmade the distribution entirely gratuitous. It took place once a month, and\nconsisted of five modii(143) a head. In the time of Julius C\u00e6sar no less\nthan 320,000 persons were inscribed as recipients; but C\u00e6sar reduced the\nnumber by one half. Under Augustus it had risen to 200,000. This emperor\ndesired to restrict the distribution of corn to three or four times a\nyear, but, yielding to the popular wish, he at last consented that it\nshould continue monthly. It soon became the leading fact of Roman life.\nNumerous officers were appointed to provide it. A severe legislation\ncontrolled their acts, and to secure a regular and abundant supply of corn\nfor the capital became the principal object of the provincial governors.\nUnder the Antonines the number of the recipients had considerably\nincreased, having sometimes, it is said, exceeded 500,000. Septimus\nSeverus added to the corn a ration of oil. Aurelian replaced the monthly\ndistribution of unground corn by a daily distribution of bread, and added,\nmoreover, a portion of pork. Gratuitous distributions were afterwards\nextended to Constantinople, Alexandria, and Antioch, and were probably not\naltogether unknown in smaller towns.(144)\n\nWe have already seen that this gratuitous distribution of corn ranked,\nwith the institution of slavery and the gladiatorial exhibitions, as one\nof the chief demoralising influences of the Empire. The most injudicious\ncharity, however pernicious to the classes it is intended to relieve, has\ncommonly a beneficial and softening influence upon the donor, and through\nhim upon society at large. But the Roman distribution of corn, being\nmerely a political device, had no humanising influence upon the people,\nwhile, being regulated only by the indigence, and not at all by the\ninfirmities or character, of the recipient, it was a direct and\noverwhelming encouragement to idleness. With a provision of the\nnecessaries of life, and with an abundant supply of amusements, the poor\nRomans readily gave up honourable labour, all trades in the city\nlanguished, every interruption in the distribution of corn was followed by\nfearful sufferings, free gifts of land were often insufficient to attract\nthe citizens to honest labour, and the multiplication of children, which\nrendered the public relief inadequate, was checked by abortion,\nexposition, or infanticide.\n\nWhen we remember that the population of Rome probably never exceeded a\nmillion and a half, that a large proportion of the indigent were provided\nfor as slaves, and that more than 200,000 freemen were habitually supplied\nwith the first necessary of life, we cannot, I think, charge the Pagan\nsociety of the metropolis, at least, with an excessive parsimony in\nrelieving poverty. But besides the distribution of corn, several other\nmeasures were taken. Salt, which was very largely used by the Roman poor,\nhad during the Republic been made a monopoly of the State, and was sold by\nit at a price that was little more than nominal.(145) The distribution of\nland, which was the subject of the agrarian laws, was, under a new form,\npractised by Julius C\u00e6sar,(146) Nerva,(147) and Septimus Severus,(148) who\nbought land to divide it among the poor citizens. Large legacies were left\nto the people by Julius C\u00e6sar, Augustus, and others, and considerable,\nthough irregular, donations made on occasions of great rejoicings.\nNumerous public baths were established, to which, when they were not\nabsolutely gratuitous, the smallest coin in use gave admission, and which\nwere in consequence habitually employed by the poor. Vespasian instituted,\nand the Antonines extended, a system of popular education, and the\nmovement I have already noticed, for the support of the children of poor\nparents, acquired very considerable proportions. The first trace of it at\nRome may be found under Augustus, who gave money and corn for the support\nof young children, who had previously not been included in the public\ndistributions.(149) This appears, however, to have been but an act of\nisolated benevolence, and the honour of first instituting a systematic\neffort in this direction belongs to Nerva, who enjoined the support of\npoor children, not only in Rome, but in all the cities of Italy.(150)\nTrajan greatly extended the system. In his reign 5,000 poor children were\nsupported by the Government in Rome alone,(151) and similar measures,\nthough we know not on what scale, were taken in the other Italian and even\nAfrican cities. At the little town of Velleia, we find a charity\ninstituted by Trajan, for the partial support of 270 children.(152)\nPrivate benevolence followed in the same direction, and several\ninscriptions which still remain, though they do not enable us to write its\nhistory, sufficiently attest its activity. The younger Pliny, besides\nwarmly encouraging schools, devoted a small property to the support of\npoor children in his native city of Como.(153) The name of C\u00e6lia Macrina\nis preserved as the foundress of a charity for 100 children at\nTerracina.(154) Hadrian increased the supplies of corn allotted to these\ncharities, and he was also distinguished for his bounty to poor\nwomen.(155) Antoninus was accustomed to lend money to the poor at four per\ncent., which was much below the normal rate of interest,(156) and both he\nand Marcus Aurelius dedicated to the memory of their wives institutions\nfor the support of girls.(157) Alexander Severus in like manner dedicated\nan institution for the support of children to the memory of his\nmother.(158) Public hospitals were probably unknown in Europe before\nChristianity; but there are traces of the distribution of medicine to the\nsick poor;(159) there were private infirmaries for slaves, and also, it is\nbelieved, military hospitals.(160) Provincial towns were occasionally\nassisted by the Government in seasons of great distress, and there are\nsome recorded instances of private legacies for their benefit.(161)\n\nThese various measures are by no means inconsiderable, and it is not\nunreasonable to suppose that many similar steps were taken, of which all\nrecord has been lost. The history of charity presents so few salient\nfeatures, so little that can strike the imagination or arrest the\nattention, that it is usually almost wholly neglected by historians; and\nit is easy to conceive what inadequate notions of our existing charities\ncould be gleaned from the casual allusions in plays or poems, in political\nhistories or court memoirs. There can, however, be no question that\nneither in practice nor in theory, neither in the institutions that were\nfounded nor in the place that was assigned to it in the scale of duties,\ndid charity in antiquity occupy a position at all comparable to that which\nit has obtained by Christianity. Nearly all relief was a State measure,\ndictated much more by policy than by benevolence; and the habit of selling\nyoung children, the innumerable expositions, the readiness of the poor to\nenrol themselves as gladiators, and the frequent famines, show how large\nwas the measure of unrelieved distress. A very few Pagan examples of\ncharity have, indeed, descended to us. Among the Greeks we find\nEpaminondas ransoming captives, and collecting dowers for poor girls;(162)\nCimon, feeding the hungry and clothing the naked;(163) Bias, purchasing,\nemancipating, and furnishing with dowers some captive girls of\nMessina.(164) Tacitus has described with enthusiasm how, after a\ncatastrophe near Rome, the rich threw open their houses and taxed all\ntheir resources to relieve the sufferers.(165) There existed, too, among\nthe poor, both of Greece and Rome, mutual insurance societies, which\nundertook to provide for their sick and infirm members.(166) The very\nfrequent reference to mendicancy in the Latin writers shows that beggars,\nand therefore those who relieved beggars, were numerous. The duty of\nhospitality was also strongly enjoined, and was placed under the special\nprotection of the supreme Deity. But the active, habitual, and detailed\ncharity of private persons, which is so conspicuous a feature in all\nChristian societies, was scarcely known in antiquity, and there are not\nmore than two or three moralists who have even noticed it. Of these, the\nchief rank belongs to Cicero, who devoted two very judicious but somewhat\ncold chapters to the subject. Nothing, he said, is more suitable to the\nnature of man than beneficence or liberality, but there are many cautions\nto be urged in practising it. We must take care that our bounty is a real\nblessing to the person we relieve; that it does not exceed our own means;\nthat it is not, as was the case with Sylla and C\u00e6sar, derived from the\nspoliation of others; that it springs from the heart and not from\nostentation; that the claims of gratitude are preferred to the mere\nimpulses of compassion, and that due regard is paid both to the character\nand to the wants of the recipient.(167)\n\nChristianity for the first time made charity a rudimentary virtue, giving\nit a leading place in the moral type, and in the exhortations of its\nteachers. Besides its general influence in stimulating the affections, it\neffected a complete revolution in this sphere, by regarding the poor as\nthe special representatives of the Christian Founder, and thus making the\nlove of Christ, rather than the love of man, the principle of charity.\nEven in the days of persecution, collections for the relief of the poor\nwere made at the Sunday meetings. The agap\u00e6 or feasts of love were\nintended mainly for the poor, and food that was saved by the fasts was\ndevoted to their benefit. A vast organisation of charity, presided over by\nthe bishops, and actively directed by the deacons, soon ramified over\nChristendom, till the bond of charity became the bond of unity, and the\nmost distant sections of the Christian Church corresponded by the\ninterchange of mercy. Long before the era of Constantine, it was observed\nthat the charities of the Christians were so extensive\u2014it may, perhaps, be\nsaid so excessive\u2014that they drew very many impostors to the Church;(168)\nand when the victory of Christianity was achieved, the enthusiasm for\ncharity displayed itself in the erection of numerous institutions that\nwere altogether unknown to the Pagan world. A Roman lady, named Fabiola,\nin the fourth century, founded at Rome, as an act of penance, the first\npublic hospital, and the charity planted by that woman\u2019s hand overspread\nthe world, and will alleviate, to the end of time, the darkest anguish of\nhumanity. Another hospital was soon after founded by St. Pammachus;\nanother of great celebrity by St. Basil, at C\u00e6sarea. St. Basil also\nerected at C\u00e6sarea what was probably the first asylum for lepers.\nXenodochia, or refuges for strangers, speedily rose, especially along the\npaths of the pilgrims. St. Pammachus founded one at Ostia; Paula and\nMelania founded others at Jerusalem. The Council of Nice ordered that one\nshould be erected in every city. In the time of St. Chrysostom the church\nof Antioch supported 3,000 widows and virgins, besides strangers and sick.\nLegacies for the poor became common; and it was not unfrequent for men and\nwomen who desired to live a life of peculiar sanctity, and especially for\npriests who attained the episcopacy to bestow their entire properties in\ncharity. Even the early Oriental monks, who for the most part were\nextremely removed from the active and social virtues, supplied many noble\nexamples of charity. St. Ephrem, in a time of pestilence, emerged from his\nsolitude to found and superintend a hospital at Edessa. A monk named\nThalasius collected blind beggars in an asylum on the banks of the\nEuphrates. A merchant named Apollonius founded on Mount Nitria a\ngratuitous dispensary for the monks. The monks often assisted by their\nlabours provinces that were suffering from pestilence or famine. We may\ntrace the remains of the pure socialism that marked the first phase of the\nChristian community, in the emphatic language with which some of the\nFathers proclaimed charity to be a matter not of mercy but of justice,\nmaintaining that all property is based on usurpation, that the earth by\nright is common to all men, and that no man can claim a superabundant\nsupply of its goods except as an administrator for others. A Christian, it\nwas maintained, should devote at least one-tenth of his profits to the\npoor.(169)\n\nThe enthusiasm of charity, thus manifested in the Church, speedily\nattracted the attention of the Pagans. The ridicule of Lucian, and the\nvain efforts of Julian to produce a rival system of charity within the\nlimits of Paganism,(170) emphatically attested both its pre-eminence and\nits catholicity. During the pestilences that desolated Carthage in A.D.\n326, and Alexandria in the reigns of Gallienus and of Maximian, while the\nPagans fled panic-stricken from the contagion, the Christians extorted the\nadmiration of their fellow-countrymen by the courage with which they\nrallied around their bishops, consoled the last hours of the sufferers,\nand buried the abandoned dead.(171) In the rapid increase of pauperism\narising from the emancipation of numerous slaves, their charity found free\nscope for action, and its resources were soon taxed to the utmost by the\nhorrors of the barbarian invasions. The conquest of Africa by Genseric\ndeprived Italy of the supply of corn upon which it almost wholly depended,\narrested the gratuitous distribution by which the Roman poor were mainly\nsupported, and produced all over the land the most appalling\ncalamities.(172) The history of Italy became one monotonous tale of famine\nand pestilence, of starving populations and ruined cities. But everywhere\namid this chaos of dissolution we may detect the majestic form of the\nChristian priest mediating between the hostile forces, straining every\nnerve to lighten the calamities around him. When the Imperial city was\ncaptured and plundered by the hosts of Alaric, a Christian church remained\na secure sanctuary, which neither the passions nor the avarice of the\nGoths transgressed. When a fiercer than Alaric had marked out Rome for his\nprey, the Pope St. Leo, arrayed in his sacerdotal robes, confronted the\nvictorious Hun, as the ambassador of his fellow-countrymen, and Attila,\noverpowered by religious awe, turned aside in his course. When, two years\nlater, Rome lay at the mercy of Genseric, the same Pope interposed with\nthe Vandal conqueror, and obtained from him a partial cessation of the\nmassacre. The Archdeacon Pelagius interceded with similar humanity and\nsimilar success, when Rome had been captured by Totila. In Gaul, Troyes is\nsaid to have been saved from destruction by the influence of St. Lupus,\nand Orleans by the influence of St. Agnan. In Britain an invasion of the\nPicts was averted by St. Germain of Auxerre. The relations of rulers to\ntheir subjects, and of tribunals to the poor, were modified by the same\nintervention. When Antioch was threatened with destruction on account of\nits rebellion against Theodosius, the anchorites poured forth from the\nneighbouring deserts to intercede with the ministers of the emperor, while\nthe Archbishop Flavian went himself as a suppliant to Constantinople. St.\nAmbrose imposed public penance on Theodosius, on account of the massacre\nof Thessalonica. Synesius excommunicated for his oppressions a governor\nnamed Andronicus; and two French Councils, in the sixth century, imposed\nthe same penalty on all great men who arbitrarily ejected the poor.\nSpecial laws were found necessary to restrain the turbulent charity of\nsome priests and monks, who impeded the course of justice, and even\nsnatched criminals from the hands of the law.(173) St. Abraham, St.\nEpiphanius, and St. Basil are all said to have obtained the remission or\nreduction of oppressive imposts. To provide for the interests of widows\nand orphans was part of the official ecclesiastical duty, and a Council of\nMacon anathematised any ruler who brought them to trial without first\napprising the bishop of the diocese. A Council of Toledo, in the fifth\ncentury, threatened with excommunication all who robbed priests, monks, or\npoor men, or refused to listen to their expostulations. One of the chief\ncauses of the inordinate power acquired by the clergy was their\nmediatorial office, and their gigantic wealth was in a great degree due to\nthe legacies of those who regarded them as the trustees of the poor. As\ntime rolled on, charity assumed many forms, and every monastery became a\ncentre from which it radiated. By the monks the nobles were overawed, the\npoor protected, the sick tended, travellers sheltered, prisoners ransomed,\nthe remotest spheres of suffering explored. During the darkest period of\nthe middle ages, monks founded a refuge for pilgrims amid the horrors of\nthe Alpine snows. A solitary hermit often planted himself, with his little\nboat, by a bridgeless stream, and the charity of his life was to ferry\nover the traveller.(174) When the hideous disease of leprosy extended its\nravages over Europe, when the minds of men were filled with terror, not\nonly by its loathsomeness and its contagion, but also by the notion that\nit was in a peculiar sense supernatural,(175) new hospitals and refuges\noverspread Europe, and monks flocked in multitudes to serve in them.(176)\nSometimes, the legends say, the leper\u2019s form was in a moment transfigured,\nand he who came to tend the most loathsome of mankind received his reward,\nfor he found himself in the presence of his Lord.\n\nThere is no fact of which an historian becomes more speedily or more\npainfully conscious than the great difference between the importance and\nthe dramatic interest of the subjects he treats. Wars or massacres, the\nhorrors of martyrdom or the splendours of individual prowess, are\nsusceptible of such brilliant colouring, that with but little literary\nskill they can be so pourtrayed that their importance is adequately\nrealised, and they appeal powerfully to the emotions of the reader. But\nthis vast and unostentatious movement of charity, operating in the village\nhamlet and in the lonely hospital, staunching the widow\u2019s tears, and\nfollowing all the windings of the poor man\u2019s griefs, presents few features\nthe imagination can grasp, and leaves no deep impression upon the mind.\nThe greatest things are often those which are most imperfectly realised;\nand surely no achievements of the Christian Church are more truly great\nthan those which it has effected in the sphere of charity. For the first\ntime in the history of mankind, it has inspired many thousands of men and\nwomen, at the sacrifice of all worldly interests, and often under\ncircumstances of extreme discomfort or danger, to devote their entire\nlives to the single object of assuaging the sufferings of humanity. It has\ncovered the globe with countless institutions of mercy, absolutely unknown\nto the whole Pagan world. It has indissolubly united, in the minds of men,\nthe idea of supreme goodness with that of active and constant benevolence.\nIt has placed in every parish a religious minister, who, whatever may be\nhis other functions, has at least been officially charged with the\nsuperintendence of an organisation of charity, and who finds in this\noffice one of the most important as well as one of the most legitimate\nsources of his power.\n\nThere are, however, two important qualifications to the admiration with\nwhich we regard the history of Christian charity\u2014one relating to a\nparticular form of suffering, and the other of a more general kind. A\nstrong, ill-defined notion of the supernatural character of insanity had\nexisted from the earliest times; but there were special circumstances\nwhich rendered the action of the Church peculiarly unfavourable to those\nwho were either predisposed to or afflicted with this calamity. The\nreality both of witchcraft and diabolical possession had been distinctly\nrecognised in the Jewish writings. The received opinions about eternal\ntorture, and ever-present d\u00e6mons, and the continued strain upon the\nimagination, in dwelling upon an unseen world, were pre-eminently fitted\nto produce madness in those who were at all predisposed to it, and, where\ninsanity had actually appeared, to determine the form and complexion of\nthe hallucinations of the maniac.(177) Theology supplying all the images\nthat acted most powerfully upon the imagination, most madness, for many\ncenturies, took a theological cast. One important department of it appears\nchiefly in the lives of the saints. Men of lively imaginations and\nabsolute ignorance, living apart from all their fellows, amid the horrors\nof a savage wilderness, practising austerities by which their physical\nsystem was thoroughly deranged, and firmly persuaded that innumerable\ndevils were continually hovering about their cells and interfering with\ntheir devotions, speedily and very naturally became subject to constant\nhallucinations, which probably form the nucleus of truth in the legends of\ntheir lives. But it was impossible that insanity should confine itself to\nthe orthodox forms of celestial visions, or of the apparitions and the\ndefeats of devils. Very frequently it led the unhappy maniac to some\ndelusion, which called down upon him the speedy sentence of the Church.\nThus, in the year 1300, the corpse of a Bohemian or, according to another\nversion, an English girl who imagined herself to be the Holy Ghost\nincarnate for the redemption of women, was dug up and burnt, and two women\nwho believed in her perished at the stake.(178) In the year 1359, a\nSpaniard declared himself to be the brother of the archangel Michael, and\nto be destined for the place in heaven which Satan had lost; and he added\nthat he was accustomed every day both to mount into heaven and descend\ninto hell, that the end of the world was at hand, and that it was reserved\nfor him to enter into single combat with Antichrist. The poor lunatic fell\ninto the hands of the Archbishop of Toledo, and was burnt alive.(179) In\nsome cases the hallucination took the form of an irregular inspiration. On\nthis charge, Joan of Arc, and another girl who had been fired by her\nexample, and had endeavoured, apparently under a genuine hallucination, to\nfollow her career,(180) were burnt alive. A famous Spanish physician and\nscholar, named Torralba, who lived in the sixteenth century, and who\nimagined that he had an attendant angel continually about him, escaped\nwith public penance and confession;(181) but a professor of theology in\nLima, who laboured under the same delusion, and added to it some wild\nnotions about his spiritual dignities, was less fortunate. He was burnt by\nthe Inquisition of Peru.(182) Most commonly, however, the theological\nnotions about witchcraft either produced madness or determined its form,\nand, through the influence of the clergy of the different sections of the\nChristian Church, many thousands of unhappy women, who, from their age,\ntheir loneliness, and their infirmity, were most deserving of pity, were\ndevoted to the hatred of mankind, and, having been tortured with horrible\nand ingenious cruelty, were at last burnt alive.\n\nThe existence, however, of some forms of natural madness was generally\nadmitted; but the measures for the relief of the unhappy victims were very\nfew, and very ill judged. Among the ancients, they were brought to the\ntemples, and subjected to imposing ceremonies, which were believed\nsupernaturally to relieve them, and which probably had a favourable\ninfluence through their action upon the imagination. The great Greek\nphysicians had devoted considerable attention to this malady, and some of\ntheir precepts anticipated modern discoveries; but no lunatic asylum\nappears to have existed in antiquity.(183) In the first period of the\nhermit life, when many anchorites became insane through their penances, a\nrefuge is said to have been opened for them at Jerusalem.(184) This\nappears, however, to be a solitary instance, arising from the exigencies\nof a single class, and no lunatic asylum existed in Christian Europe till\nthe fifteenth century. The Mohammedans, in this form of charity, seem to\nhave preceded the Christians. Benjamin of Tudela, who visited Bagdad in\nthe twelfth century, describes a palace in that city, called \u201cthe House of\nMercy,\u201d in which all mad persons found in the country were confined and\nbound with iron chains. They were carefully examined every month and\nreleased as soon as they recovered.(185) The asylum of Cairo is said to\nhave been founded in A.D. 1304.(186) Leo Africanus notices the existence\nof a similar institution at Fez, in the beginning of the sixteenth\ncentury, and mentions that the patients were restrained by chains,(187)\nand it is probable that the care of the insane was a general form of\ncharity in Mohammedan countries. Among the Christians it first appeared in\nquarters contiguous to the Mohammedans; but there is, I think, no real\nevidence that it was derived from Mohammedan example. The Knights of Malta\nwere famous as the one order who admitted lunatics into their hospitals;\nbut no Christian asylum expressly for their benefit existed till 1409. The\nhonour of instituting this form of charity in Christendom belongs to\nSpain. A monk named Juan Gilaberto Joffre, filled with compassion at the\nsight of the maniacs who were hooted by crowds through the streets of\nValencia, founded an asylum in that city, and his example was speedily\nfollowed in other provinces. The new charity was introduced into Saragossa\nin A.D. 1425, into Seville and Valladolid in A.D. 1436, into Toledo in\nA.D. 1483. All these institutions existed before a single lunatic asylum\nhad been founded in any other part of Christendom.(188) Two other very\nhonourable facts may be mentioned, establishing the preeminence of Spanish\ncharity in this field. The first is, that the oldest lunatic asylum in the\nmetropolis of Catholicism was that erected by Spaniards, in A.D.\n1548.(189) The second is, that when, at the close of the last century,\nPinel began his great labours in this sphere, he pronounced Spain to be\nthe country in which lunatics were treated with most wisdom and most\nhumanity.(190)\n\nIn most countries their condition was indeed truly deplorable. While many\nthousands were burnt as witches, those who were recognised as insane were\ncompelled to endure all the horrors of the harshest imprisonment. Blows,\nbleeding, and chains were their usual treatment, and horrible accounts\nwere given of madmen who had spent decades bound in dark cells.(191) Such\ntreatment naturally aggravated their malady, and that malady in many cases\nrendered impossible the resignation and ultimate torpor which alleviate\nthe sufferings of ordinary prisoners. Not until the eighteenth century was\nthe condition of this unhappy class seriously improved. The combined\nprogress of theological scepticism and scientific knowledge relegated\nwitchcraft to the world of phantoms, and the exertions of Morgagni in\nItaly, of Cullen in Scotland, and of Pinel in France, renovated the whole\ntreatment of acknowledged lunatics.\n\nThe second qualification to the admiration with which we regard the\nhistory of Christian charity arises from the undoubted fact that a large\nproportion of charitable institutions have directly increased the poverty\nthey were intended to relieve. The question of the utility and nature of\ncharity is one which, since the modern discoveries of political economy,\nhas elicited much discussion, and in many cases, I think, much\nexaggeration. What political economy has effected on the subject may be\ncomprised under two heads. It has elucidated more clearly, and in greater\ndetail than had before been done, the effect of provident self-interest in\ndetermining the welfare of societies, and it has established a broad\ndistinction between productive and unproductive expenditure. It has shown\nthat, where idleness is supported, idleness will become common; that,\nwhere systematic public provision is made for old age, the parsimony of\nforesight will be neglected; and that therefore these forms of charity, by\nencouraging habits of idleness and improvidence, ultimately increase the\nwretchedness they were intended to alleviate. It has also shown that,\nwhile unproductive expenditure, such as that which is devoted to\namusements or luxury, is undoubtedly beneficial to those who provide it,\nthe fruit perishes in the usage; while productive expenditure, such as the\nmanufacture of machines, or the improvement of the soil, or the extension\nof commercial enterprise, gives a new impulse to the creation of wealth.\nIt has proved that the first condition of the rapid accumulation of\ncapital is the diversion of money from unproductive to productive\nchannels, and that the amount of accumulated capital is one of the two\nregulating influences of the wages of the labourer. From these positions\nsome persons have inferred that charity should be condemned as a form of\nunproductive expenditure. But, in the first place, all charities that\nfoster habits of forethought and develop new capacities in the poorer\nclasses, such as popular education, or the formation of savings banks, or\ninsurance companies, or, in many cases, small and discriminating loans, or\nmeasures directed to the suppression of dissipation, are in the strictest\nsense productive; and the same may be said of many forms of employment,\ngiven in exceptional crises through charitable motives; and, in the next\nplace, it is only necessary to remember that the happiness of mankind, to\nwhich the accumulation of wealth should only be regarded as a means, is\nthe real object of charity, and it will appear that many forms which are\nnot strictly productive, in the commercial sense, are in the highest\ndegree conducive to this end, and have no serious counteracting evil. In\nthe alleviation of those sufferings that do not spring either from\nimprovidence or from vice, the warmest as well as the most enlightened\ncharity will find an ample sphere for its exertions.(192) Blindness, and\nother exceptional calamities, against the effects of which prudence does\nnot and cannot provide, the miseries resulting from epidemics, from war,\nfrom famine, from the first sudden collapse of industry, produced by new\ninventions or changes in the channels of commerce; hospitals, which,\nbesides other advantages, are the greatest schools of medical science, and\nwithdraw from the crowded alley multitudes who would otherwise form\ncentres of contagion\u2014these, and such as these, will long tax to the utmost\nthe generosity of the wealthy; while, even in the spheres upon which the\npolitical economist looks with the most unfavourable eye, exceptional\ncases will justify exceptional assistance. The charity which is pernicious\nis commonly not the highest but the lowest kind. The rich man, prodigal of\nmoney, which is to him of little value, but altogether incapable of\ndevoting any personal attention to the object of his alms, often injures\nsociety by his donations; but this is rarely the case with that far nobler\ncharity which makes men familiar with the haunts of wretchedness, and\nfollows the object of its care through all the phases of his life. The\nquestion of the utility of charity is merely a question of ultimate\nconsequences. Political economy has, no doubt, laid down some general\nrules of great value on the subject; but yet the pages which Cicero\ndevoted to it nearly two thousand years ago might have been written by the\nmost enlightened modern economist; and it will be continually found that\nthe Protestant lady, working in her parish, by the simple force of common\nsense and by a scrupulous and minute attention to the condition and\ncharacter of those whom she relieves, is unconsciously illustrating with\nperfect accuracy the enlightened charity of Malthus.\n\nBut in order that charity should be useful, it is essential that the\nbenefit of the sufferer should be a real object to the donor; and a very\nlarge proportion of the evils that have arisen from Catholic charity may\nbe traced to the absence of this condition. The first substitution of\ndevotion for philanthropy, as the motive of benevolence, gave so powerful\na stimulus to the affections, that it may on the whole be regarded as a\nbenefit, though, by making compassion operate solely through a theological\nmedium, it often produced among theologians a more than common\nindifference to the sufferings of all who were external to their religious\ncommunity. But the new principle speedily degenerated into a belief in the\nexpiatory nature of the gifts. A form of what may be termed selfish\ncharity arose, which acquired at last gigantic proportions, and exercised\na most pernicious influence upon Christendom. Men gave money to the poor,\nsimply and exclusively for their own spiritual benefit, and the welfare of\nthe sufferer was altogether foreign to their thoughts.(193)\n\nThe evil which thus arose from some forms of Catholic charity may be\ntraced from a very early period, but it only acquired its full magnitude\nafter some centuries. The Roman system of gratuitous distribution was, in\nthe eyes of the political economist, about the worst that could be\nconceived, and the charity of the Church being, in at least a measure,\ndiscriminating, was at first a very great, though even then not an\nunmingled, good. Labour was also not unfrequently enjoined as a duty by\nthe Fathers, and at a later period the services of the Benedictine monks,\nin destroying by their example the stigma which slavery had attached to\nit, were very great. Still, one of the first consequences of the exuberant\ncharity of the Church was to multiply impostors and mendicants, and the\nidleness of the monks was one of the earliest complaints. Valentinian made\na severe law, condemning robust beggars to perpetual slavery. As the\nmonastic system was increased, and especially after the mendicant orders\nhad consecrated mendicancy, the evil assumed gigantic dimensions. Many\nthousands of strong men, absolutely without private means, were in every\ncountry withdrawn from productive labour, and supported by charity. The\nnotion of the meritorious nature of simple almsgiving immeasurably\nmultiplied beggars. The stigma, which it is the highest interest of\nsociety to attach to mendicancy, it became a main object of theologians to\nremove. Saints wandered through the world begging money, that they might\ngive to beggars, or depriving themselves of their garments, that they\nmight clothe the naked, and the result of their teaching was speedily\napparent. In all Catholic countries where ecclesiastical influences have\nbeen permitted to develop unmolested, the monastic organisations have\nproved a deadly canker, corroding the prosperity of the nation.\nWithdrawing multitudes from all production, encouraging a blind and\npernicious almsgiving, diffusing habits of improvidence through the poorer\nclasses, fostering an ignorant admiration for saintly poverty, and an\nequally ignorant antipathy to the habits and aims of an industrial\ncivilisation, they have paralysed all energy, and proved an insuperable\nbarrier to material progress. The poverty they have relieved has been\ninsignificant compared with the poverty they have caused. In no case was\nthe abolition of monasteries effected in a more indefensible manner than\nin England; but the transfer of property, that was once employed in a\ngreat measure in charity, to the courtiers of King Henry, was ultimately a\nbenefit to the English poor; for no misapplication of this property by\nprivate persons could produce as much evil as an unrestrained monasticism.\nThe value of Catholic services in alleviating pain and sickness, and the\nmore exceptional forms of suffering, can never be overrated. The noble\nheroism of her servants, who have devoted themselves to charity, has never\nbeen surpassed, and the perfection of their organisation has, I think,\nnever been equalled; but in the sphere of simple poverty it can hardly be\ndoubted that the Catholic Church has created more misery than it has\ncured.\n\nStill, even in this field, we must not forget the benefits resulting, if\nnot to the sufferer, at least to the donor. Charitable habits, even when\nformed in the first instance from selfish motives, even when so\nmisdirected as to be positively injurious to the recipient, rarely fail to\nexercise a softening and purifying influence on the character. All through\nthe darkest period of the middle ages, amid ferocity and fanaticism and\nbrutality, we may trace the subduing influence of Catholic charity,\nblending strangely with every excess of violence and every outburst of\npersecution. It would be difficult to conceive a more frightful picture of\nsociety than is presented by the history of Gregory of Tours; but that\nlong series of atrocious crimes, narrated with an almost appalling\ntranquillity, is continually interspersed with accounts of kings, queens,\nor prelates, who, in the midst of the disorganised society, made the\nrelief of the poor the main object of their lives. No period of history\nexhibits a larger amount of cruelty, licentiousness, and fanaticism than\nthe Crusades; but side by side with the military enthusiasm, and with the\nalmost universal corruption, there expanded a vast movement of charity,\nwhich covered Christendom with hospitals for the relief of leprosy, and\nwhich grappled nobly, though ineffectually, with the many forms of\nsuffering that were generated. St. Peter Nolasco, whose great labours in\nransoming captive Christians I have already noticed, was an active\nparticipator in the atrocious massacre of the Albigenses.(194) Of Shane\nO\u2019Neale, one of the ablest, but also one of the most ferocious, Irish\nchieftains who ever defied the English power, it is related, amid a crowd\nof crimes, that, \u201csitting at meat, before he put one morsel into his mouth\nhe used to slice a portion above the daily alms, and send it to some\nbeggar at his gate, saying it was meet to serve Christ first.\u201d(195)\n\nThe great evils produced by the encouragement of mendicancy which has\nalways accompanied the uncontrolled development of Catholicity, have\nnaturally given rise to much discussion and legislation. The fierce\ndenunciations of the mendicant orders by William of St. Amour in the\nthirteenth century were not on account of their encouragement of\nmischievous charity;(196) but one of the disciples of Wycliffe, named\nNicholas of Hereford, was conspicuous for his opposition to indiscriminate\ngifts to beggars;(197) and a few measures of an extended order appear to\nhave been taken even before the Reformation.(198) In England laws of the\nmost savage cruelty were then passed, in hopes of eradicating mendicancy.\nA parliament of Henry VIII., before the suppression of the monasteries,\nissued a law providing a system of organised charity, and imposing on any\none who gave anything to a beggar a fine of ten times the value of his\ngift. A sturdy beggar was to be punished with whipping for the first\noffence, with whipping and the loss of the tip of his ear for the second\nand with death for the third.(199) Under Edward VI., an atrocious law,\nwhich, however, was repealed in the same reign, enacted that every sturdy\nbeggar who refused to work should be branded, and adjudged for two years\nas a slave to the person who gave information against him; and if he took\nflight during his period of servitude, he was condemned for the first\noffence to perpetual slavery, and for the second to death. The master was\nauthorised to put a ring of iron round the neck of his slave, to chain\nhim, and to scourge him. Any one might take the children of a sturdy\nbeggar for apprentices, till the boys were twenty-four and the girls\ntwenty.(200) Another law, made under Elizabeth, punished with death any\nstrong man under the age of eighteen who was convicted for the third time\nof begging; but the penalty in this reign was afterwards reduced to a\nlife-long service in the galleys, or to banishment, with a penalty of\ndeath to the returned convict.(201) Under the same queen the poor-law\nsystem was elaborated, and Malthus long afterwards showed that its effects\nin discouraging parsimony rendered it scarcely less pernicious than the\nmonastic system that had preceded it. In many Catholic countries, severe,\nthough less atrocious, measures were taken to grapple with the evil of\nmendicancy. That shrewd and sagacious pontiff, Sixtus V., who, though not\nthe greatest man, was by far the greatest statesman who has ever sat on\nthe papal throne, made praiseworthy efforts to check it at Rome, where\necclesiastical influence had always made it peculiarly prevalent.(202)\nCharles V., in 1531, issued a severe enactment against beggars in the\nNetherlands, but excepted from its operation mendicant friars and\npilgrims.(203) Under Lewis XIV., equally severe measures were taken in\nFrance. But though the practical evil was fully felt, there was little\nphilosophical investigation of its causes before the eighteenth century.\nLocke in England,(204) and Berkeley in Ireland,(205) briefly glanced at\nthe subject; and in 1704 Defoe published a very remarkable tract, called,\n\u201cGiving Alms no Charity,\u201d in which he noticed the extent to which\nmendicancy existed in England, though wages were higher than in any\nContinental country.(206) A still more remarkable book, written by an\nauthor named Ricci, appeared at Modena in 1787, and excited considerable\nattention. The author pointed out with much force the gigantic development\nof mendicancy in Italy, traced it to the excessive charity of the people,\nand appears to have regarded as an evil all charity which sprang from\nreligious motives and was greater than would spring from the unaided\ninstincts of men.(207) The freethinker Mandeville had long before assailed\ncharity schools, and the whole system of endeavouring to elevate the\npoor,(208) and Magdalen asylums and foundling hospitals have had fierce,\nthough I believe much mistaken, adversaries.(209) The reforms of the\npoor-laws, and the writings of Malthus, gave a new impulse to discussion\non the subject; but, with the qualifications I have stated, no new\ndiscoveries have, I conceive, thrown any just cloud upon the essential\nprinciple of Christian charity.\n\nThe last method by which Christianity has laboured to soften the\ncharacters of men has been by accustoming the imagination to expatiate\ncontinually upon images of tenderness and of pathos. Our imaginations,\nthough less influential than our occupations, probably affect our moral\ncharacters more deeply than our judgments, and, in the case of the poorer\nclasses especially, the cultivation of this part of our nature is of\ninestimable importance. Rooted, for the most part, during their entire\nlives, to a single spot, excluded by their ignorance and their\ncircumstances from most of the varieties of interest that animate the\nminds of other men, condemned to constant and plodding labour, and\nengrossed for ever with the minute cares of an immediate and an anxious\npresent, their whole natures would have been hopelessly contracted, were\nthere no sphere in which their imaginations could expand. Religion is the\none romance of the poor. It alone extends the narrow horizon of their\nthoughts, supplies the images of their dreams, allures them to the\nsupersensual and the ideal. The graceful beings with which the creative\nfancy of Paganism peopled the universe shed a poetic glow on the peasant\u2019s\ntoil. Every stage of agriculture was presided over by a divinity, and the\nworld grew bright by the companionship of the gods. But it is the\npeculiarity of the Christian types, that, while they have fascinated the\nimagination, they have also purified the heart. The tender, winning, and\nalmost feminine beauty of the Christian Founder, the Virgin mother, the\nagonies of Gethsemane or of Calvary, the many scenes of compassion and\nsuffering that fill the sacred writings, are the pictures which, for\neighteen hundred years, have governed the imaginations of the rudest and\nmost ignorant of mankind. Associated with the fondest recollections of\nchildhood, with the music of the church bells, with the clustered lights\nand the tinsel splendour, that seem to the peasant the very ideal of\nmajesty; painted over the altar where he received the companion of his\nlife, around the cemetery where so many whom he had loved were laid, on\nthe stations of the mountain, on the portal of the vineyard, on the chapel\nwhere the storm-tossed mariner fulfils his grateful vow; keeping guard\nover his cottage door, and looking down upon his humble bed, forms of\ntender beauty and gentle pathos for ever haunt the poor man\u2019s fancy, and\nsilently win their way into the very depths of his being. More than any\nspoken eloquence, more than any dogmatic teaching, they transform and\nsubdue his character, till he learns to realise the sanctity of weakness\nand suffering, the supreme majesty of compassion and gentleness.\n\nImperfect and inadequate as is the sketch I have drawn, it will be\nsufficient to show how great and multiform have been the influences of\nChristian philanthropy. The shadows that rest upon the picture, I have not\nconcealed; but, when all due allowance has been made for them, enough will\nremain to claim our deepest admiration. The high conception that has been\nformed of the sanctity of human life, the protection of infancy, the\nelevation and final emancipation of the slave classes, the suppression of\nbarbarous games, the creation of a vast and multifarious organisation of\ncharity, and the education of the imagination by the Christian type,\nconstitute together a movement of philanthropy which has never been\nparalleled or approached in the Pagan world. The effects of this movement\nin promoting happiness have been very great. Its effect in determining\ncharacter has probably been still greater. In that proportion or\ndisposition of qualities which constitutes the ideal character, the\ngentler and more benevolent virtues have obtained, through Christianity,\nthe foremost place. In the first and purest period they were especially\nsupreme; but in the third century a great ascetic movement arose, which\ngradually brought a new type of character into the ascendant, and diverted\nthe enthusiasm of the Church into new channels.\n\n                  \u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\n\nTertullian, writing in the second century, contrasts, in a well-known\npassage, the Christians of his day with the gymnosophists or hermits of\nIndia, declaring that, unlike these, the Christians did not fly from the\nworld, but mixed with Pagans in the forum, in the market-places, in the\npublic baths, in the ordinary business of life.(210) But although the life\nof the hermit or the monk was unknown in the Church for more than two\nhundred years after its foundation, we may detect, almost from the\nearliest time, a tone of feeling which produces it. The central\nconceptions of the monastic system are the meritoriousness of complete\nabstinence from all sexual intercourse, and of complete renunciation of\nthe world. The first of these notions appeared in the very earliest\nperiod, in the respect attached to the condition of virginity, which was\nalways regarded as sacred, and especially esteemed in the clergy, though\nfor a long time it was not imposed as an obligation. The second was shown\nin the numerous efforts that were made to separate the Christian community\nas far as possible from the society in which it existed. Nothing could be\nmore natural than that, when the increase and triumph of the Church had\nthrown the bulk of the Christians into active political or military\nlabour, some should, as an exercise of piety, have endeavoured to imitate\nthe separation from the world which was once the common condition of all.\nBesides this, a movement of asceticism had long been raging like a mental\nepidemic through the world. Among the Jews\u2014whose law, from the great\nstress it laid upon marriage, the excellence of the rapid multiplication\nof population, and the hope of being the ancestor of the Messiah, was\npeculiarly repugnant to monastic conceptions\u2014the Essenes had constituted a\ncomplete monastic society, abstaining from marriage and separating\nthemselves wholly from the world. In Rome, whose practical genius was, if\npossible, even more opposed than that of the Jews to an inactive\nmonasticism, and even among those philosophers who most represented its\nactive and practical spirit, the same tendency was shown. The Cynics of\nthe later Empire recommended a complete renunciation of domestic ties, and\na life spent mainly in the contemplation of wisdom. The Egyptian\nphilosophy, that soon after acquired an ascendancy in Europe, anticipated\nstill more closely the monastic ideal. On the outskirts of the Church, the\nmany sects of Gnostics and Manicheans all held under different forms the\nessential evil of matter. The Docet\u00e6, following the same notion, denied\nthe reality of the body of Christ. The Montanists and the Novatians\nsurpassed and stimulated the private penances of the orthodox.(211) The\nsoil was thus thoroughly prepared for a great outburst of asceticism,\nwhenever the first seed was sown. This was done during the Decian\npersecution. Paul, the hermit, who fled to the desert during that\npersecution, is said to have been the first of the tribe.(212) Antony, who\nspeedily followed, greatly extended the movement, and in a few years the\nhermits had become a mighty nation. Persecution, which in the first\ninstance drove great numbers as fugitives to the deserts, soon aroused a\npassionate religious enthusiasm that showed itself in an ardent desire for\nthose sufferings which were believed to lead directly to heaven; and this\nenthusiasm, after the peace of Constantine, found its natural vent and\nsphere in the macerations of the desert life. The imaginations of men were\nfascinated by the poetic circumstances of that life which St. Jerome most\neloquently embellished. Women were pre-eminent in recruiting for it. The\nsame spirit that had formerly led the wife of the Pagan official to\nentertain secret relations with the Christian priests, now led the wife of\nthe Christian to become the active agent of the monks. While the father\ndesigned his son for the army, or for some civil post, the mother was\noften straining every nerve to induce him to become a hermit. The monks\nsecretly corresponded with her, they skilfully assumed the functions of\neducation, in order that they might influence the young; and sometimes, to\nevade the precautions or the anger of the father, they concealed their\nprofession, and assumed the garb of lay pedagogues.(213) The pulpit, which\nhad almost superseded, and immeasurably transcended in influence, the\nchairs of the rhetoricians, and which was filled by such men as Ambrose,\nAugustine, Chrysostom, Basil, and the Gregories, was continually exerted\nin the same cause, and the extreme luxury of the great cities produced a\nviolent, but not unnatural, reaction of asceticism. The dignity of the\nmonastic position, which sometimes brought men who had been simple\npeasants into connection with the emperors, the security it furnished to\nfugitive slaves and criminals, the desire of escaping from those fiscal\nburdens which, in the corrupt and oppressive administration of the Empire,\nhad acquired an intolerable weight, and especially the barbarian\ninvasions, which produced every variety of panic and wretchedness,\nconspired with the new religious teaching in peopling the desert. A\ntheology of asceticism was speedily formed. The examples of Elijah and\nElisha, to the first of whom, by a bold flight of imagination, some later\nCarmelites ascribed the origin of their order, and the more recent\ninstance of the Baptist, were at once adduced. To an ordinary layman the\nlife of an anchorite might appear in the highest degree opposed to that of\nthe Teacher who began His mission at a marriage feast; who was continually\nreproached by His enemies for the readiness with which He mixed with the\nworld, and who selected from the female sex some of His purest and most\ndevoted followers; but the monkish theologians, avoiding, for the most\npart, these topics, dilated chiefly on His immaculate birth, His virgin\nmother, His life of celibacy, His exhortation to the rich young man. The\nfact that St. Peter, to whom a general primacy was already ascribed, was\nunquestionably married was a difficulty which was in a measure met by a\ntradition that both he, and the other married apostles, abstained from\nintercourse with their wives after their conversion.(214) St. Paul,\nhowever, was probably unmarried, and his writings showed a decided\npreference for the unmarried state, which the ingenuity of theologians\nalso discovered in some quarters where it might be least expected. Thus,\nSt. Jerome assures us that when the clean animals entered the ark by\nsevens, and the unclean ones by pairs, the odd number typified the\ncelibate, and the even the married condition. Even of the unclean animals\nbut one pair of each kind was admitted, lest they should perpetrate the\nenormity of second marriage.(215) Ecclesiastical tradition sustained the\ntendency, and Saint James, as he has been portrayed by Hegesippus, became\na kind of ideal saint, a faithful picture of what, according to the\nnotions of theologians, was the true type of human nobility. He \u201cwas\nconsecrated,\u201d it was said, \u201cfrom his mother\u2019s womb. He drank neither wine\nnor fermented liquors, and abstained from animal food. A razor never came\nupon his head. He never anointed himself with oil, or used a bath. He\nalone was allowed to enter the sanctuary. He never wore woollen, but\nlinen, garments. He was in the habit of entering the temple alone, and was\noften found upon his bended knees, and interceding for the forgiveness of\nthe people, so that his knees became as hard as a camel\u2019s.\u201d(216)\n\nThe progress of the monastic movement, as has been truly said, \u201cwas not\nless rapid or universal than that of Christianity itself.\u201d(217) Of the\nactual number of the anchorites, those who are acquainted with the extreme\nunveracity of the first historians of the movement will hesitate to speak\nwith confidence. It is said that St. Pachomius, who, early in the fourth\ncentury, founded the c\u0153nobitic mode of life, enlisted under his\njurisdiction 7,000 monks;(218) that in the days of St. Jerome nearly\n50,000 monks were sometimes assembled at the Easter festivals;(219) that\nin the desert of Nitria alone there were, in the fourth century, 5,000\nmonks under a single abbot;(220) that an Egyptian city named Oxyrynchus\ndevoted itself almost exclusively to the ascetic life, and included 20,000\nvirgins and 10,000 monks;(221) that St. Serapion presided over 10,000\nmonks;(222) and that, towards the close of the fourth century, the\nmonastic population in a great part of Egypt was nearly equal to the\npopulation of the cities.(223) Egypt was the parent of monachism, and it\nwas there that it attained both its extreme development and its most\naustere severity; but there was very soon scarcely any Christian country\nin which a similar movement was not ardently propagated. St. Athanasius\nand St. Zeno are said to have introduced it into Italy,(224) where it soon\nafterwards received a great stimulus from St. Jerome. St. Hilarion\ninstituted the first monks in Palestine, and he lived to see many\nthousands subject to his rule, and towards the close of his life to plant\nmonachism in Cyprus. Eustathius, Bishop of Sebastia, spread it through\nArmenia, Paphlagonia, and Pontus. St. Basil laboured along the wild shores\nof the Euxine. St. Martin of Tours founded the first monastery in Gaul,\nand 2,000 monks attended his funeral. Unrecorded missionaries planted the\nnew institution in the heart of \u00c6thiopia, amid the little islands that\nstud the Mediterranean, in the secluded valleys of Wales and Ireland.(225)\nBut even more wonderful than the many thousands who thus abandoned the\nworld is the reverence with which they were regarded by those who, by\ntheir attainments or their character, would seem most opposed to the\nmonastic ideal. No one had more reason than Augustine to know the danger\nof enforced celibacy, but St. Augustine exerted all his energies to spread\nmonasticism through his diocese. St. Ambrose, who was by nature an acute\nstatesman; St. Jerome and St. Basil, who were ambitious scholars; St.\nChrysostom, who was pre-eminently formed to sway the refined throngs of a\nmetropolis\u2014all exerted their powers in favour of the life of solitude, and\nthe last three practised it themselves. St. Arsenius, who was surpassed by\nno one in the extravagance of his penances, had held a high office at the\ncourt of the Emperor Arcadius. Pilgrims wandered among the deserts,\ncollecting accounts of the miracles and the austerities of the saints,\nwhich filled Christendom with admiration; and the strange biographies\nwhich were thus formed, wild and grotesque as they are, enable us to\nrealise very vividly the general features of the anchorite life which\nbecame the new ideal of the Christian world.(226)\n\nThere is, perhaps, no phase in the moral history of mankind of a deeper or\nmore painful interest than this ascetic epidemic. A hideous, sordid, and\nemaciated maniac, without knowledge, without patriotism, without natural\naffection, passing his life in a long routine of useless and atrocious\nself-torture, and quailing before the ghastly phantoms of his delirious\nbrain, had become the ideal of the nations which had known the writings of\nPlato and Cicero and the lives of Socrates and Cato. For about two\ncenturies, the hideous maceration of the body was regarded as the highest\nproof of excellence. St. Jerome declares, with a thrill of admiration, how\nhe had seen a monk, who for thirty years had lived exclusively on a small\nportion of barley bread and of muddy water; another, who lived in a hole\nand never ate more than five figs for his daily repast;(227) a third, who\ncut his hair only on Easter Sunday, who never washed his clothes, who\nnever changed his tunic till it fell to pieces, who starved himself till\nhis eyes grew dim, and his skin \u201clike a pumice stone,\u201d and whose merits,\nshown by these austerities, Homer himself would be unable to recount.(228)\nFor six months, it is said, St. Macarius of Alexandria slept in a marsh,\nand exposed his body naked to the stings of venomous flies. He was\naccustomed to carry about with him eighty pounds of iron. His disciple,\nSt. Eusebius, carried one hundred and fifty pounds of iron, and lived for\nthree years in a dried-up well. St. Sabinus would only eat corn that had\nbecome rotten by remaining for a month in water. St. Besarion spent forty\ndays and nights in the middle of thorn-bushes, and for forty years never\nlay down when he slept,(229) which last penance was also during fifteen\nyears practised by St. Pachomius.(230) Some saints, like St. Marcian,\nrestricted themselves to one meal a day, so small that they continually\nsuffered the pangs of hunger.(231) Of one of them it is related that his\ndaily food was six ounces of bread and a few herbs; that he was never seen\nto recline on a mat or bed, or even to place his limbs easily for sleep;\nbut that sometimes, from excess of weariness, his eyes would close at his\nmeals, and the food would drop from his mouth.(232) Other saints, however,\nate only every second day;(233) while many, if we could believe the\nmonkish historian, abstained for whole weeks from all nourishment.(234)\nSt. Macarius of Alexandria is said during an entire week to have never\nlain down, or eaten anything but a few uncooked herbs on Sunday.(235) Of\nanother famous saint, named John, it is asserted that for three whole\nyears he stood in prayer, leaning upon a rock; that during all that time\nhe never sat or lay down, and that his only nourishment was the Sacrament,\nwhich was brought him on Sundays.(236) Some of the hermits lived in\ndeserted dens of wild beasts, others in dried-up wells, while others found\na congenial resting-place among the tombs.(237) Some disdained all\nclothes, and crawled abroad like the wild beasts, covered only by their\nmatted hair. In Mesopotamia, and part of Syria, there existed a sect known\nby the name of \u201cGrazers,\u201d who never lived under a roof, who ate neither\nflesh nor bread, but who spent their time for ever on the mountain side,\nand ate grass like cattle.(238) The cleanliness of the body was regarded\nas a pollution of the soul, and the saints who were most admired had\nbecome one hideous mass of clotted filth. St. Athanasius relates with\nenthusiasm how St. Antony, the patriarch of monachism, had never, to\nextreme old age, been guilty of washing his feet.(239) The less constant\nSt. P\u0153men fell into this habit for the first time when a very old man,\nand, with a glimmering of common sense, defended himself against the\nastonished monks by saying that he had \u201clearnt to kill not his body, but\nhis passions.\u201d(240) St. Abraham the hermit, however, who lived for fifty\nyears after his conversion, rigidly refused from that date to wash either\nhis face or his feet.(241) He was, it is said, a person of singular\nbeauty, and his biographer somewhat strangely remarks that \u201chis face\nreflected the purity of his soul.\u201d(242) St. Ammon had never seen himself\nnaked.(243) A famous virgin named Silvia, though she was sixty years old\nand though bodily sickness was a consequence of her habits, resolutely\nrefused, on religious principles, to wash any part of her body except her\nfingers.(244) St. Euphraxia joined a convent of one hundred and thirty\nnuns, who never washed their feet, and who shuddered at the mention of a\nbath.(245) An anchorite once imagined that he was mocked by an illusion of\nthe devil, as he saw gliding before him through the desert a naked\ncreature black with filth and years of exposure, and with white hair\nfloating to the wind. It was a once beautiful woman, St. Mary of Egypt,\nwho had thus, during forty-seven years, been expiating her sins.(246) The\noccasional decadence of the monks into habits of decency was a subject of\nmuch reproach. \u201cOur fathers,\u201d said the abbot Alexander, looking mournfully\nback to the past, \u201cnever washed their faces, but we frequent the public\nbaths.\u201d(247) It was related of one monastery in the desert, that the monks\nsuffered greatly from want of water to drink; but at the prayer of the\nabbot Theodosius a copious stream was produced. But soon some monks,\ntempted by the abundant supply, diverged from their old austerity, and\npersuaded the abbot to avail himself of the stream for the construction of\na bath. The bath was made. Once, and once only, did the monks enjoy their\nablutions, when the stream ceased to flow. Prayers, tears, and fastings\nwere in vain. A whole year passed. At last the abbot destroyed the bath,\nwhich was the object of the Divine displeasure, and the waters flowed\nafresh.(248) But of all the evidences of the loathsome excesses to which\nthis spirit was carried, the life of St. Simeon Stylites is probably the\nmost remarkable. It would be difficult to conceive a more horrible or\ndisgusting picture than is given of the penances by which that saint\ncommenced his ascetic career. He had bound a rope around him so that it\nbecame imbedded in his flesh, which putrefied around it. \u201cA horrible\nstench, intolerable to the bystanders, exhaled from his body and worms\ndropped from him whenever he moved, and they filled his bed.\u201d Sometimes he\nleft the monastery and slept in a dry well, inhabited, it is said, by\nd\u00e6mons. He built successively three pillars, the last being sixty feet\nhigh and scarcely two cubits in circumference, and on this pillar, during\nthirty years, he remained exposed to every change of climate, ceaselessly\nand rapidly bending his body in prayer almost to the level of his feet. A\nspectator attempted to number these rapid motions, but desisted from\nweariness when he had counted 1,244. For a whole year, we are told, St.\nSimeon stood upon one leg, the other being covered with hideous ulcers,\nwhile his biographer was commissioned to stand by his side, to pick up the\nworms that fell from his body, and to replace them in the sores, the saint\nsaying to the worm, \u201cEat what God has given you.\u201d From every quarter\npilgrims of every degree thronged to do him homage. A crowd of prelates\nfollowed him to the grave. A brilliant star is said to have shone\nmiraculously over his pillar; the general voice of mankind pronounced him\nto be the highest model of a Christian saint; and several other anchorites\nimitated or emulated his penances.(249)\n\nThere is, if I mistake not, no department of literature the importance of\nwhich is more inadequately realised than the lives of the saints. Even\nwhere they have no direct historical value, they have a moral value of the\nvery highest order. They may not tell us with accuracy what men did at\nparticular epochs; but they display with the utmost vividness what they\nthought and felt, their measure of probability, and their ideal of\nexcellence. Decrees of councils, elaborate treatises of theologians,\ncreeds, liturgies, and canons, are all but the husks of religious history.\nThey reveal what was professed and argued before the world, but not that\nwhich was realised in the imagination or enshrined in the heart. The\nhistory of art, which in its ruder day reflected with delicate fidelity\nthe fleeting images of an anthropomorphic age, is in this respect\ninvaluable; but still more important is that vast Christian mythology,\nwhich grew up spontaneously from the intellectual condition of the time,\nincluded all its dearest hopes, wishes, ideals, and imaginings, and\nconstituted, during many centuries, the popular literature of Christendom.\nIn the case of the saints of the deserts, there can be no question that\nthe picture\u2014which is drawn chiefly by eye-witnesses\u2014however grotesque may\nbe some of its details, is in its leading features historically true. It\nis true that self-torture was for some centuries regarded as the chief\nmeasure of human excellence, that tens of thousands of the most devoted\nmen fled to the desert to reduce themselves by maceration nearly to the\ncondition of the brute, and that this odious superstition had acquired an\nalmost absolute ascendancy in the ethics of the age. The examples of\nasceticism I have cited are but a few out of many hundreds, and volumes\nmight be written, and have been written, detailing them. Till the reform\nof St. Benedict, the ideal was on the whole unchanged. The Western monks,\nfrom the conditions of their climate, were constitutionally incapable of\nrivalling the abstinence of the Egyptian anchorites; but their conception\nof supreme excellence was much the same, and they laboured to compensate\nfor their inferiority in penances by claiming some superiority in\nmiracles. From the time of St. Pachomius, the c\u0153nobitic life was adopted\nby most monks; but the Eastern monasteries, with the important exception\nof a vow of obedience, differed little from a collection of hermitages.\nThey were in the deserts; the monks commonly lived in separate cells; they\nkept silence at their repasts; they rivalled one another in the\nextravagance of their penances. A few feeble efforts were indeed made by\nSt. Jerome and others to moderate austerities, which frequently led to\ninsanity and suicide, to check the turbulence of certain wandering monks,\nwho were accustomed to defy the ecclesiastical authorities, and especially\nto suppress monastic mendicancy, which had appeared prominently among some\nheretical sects. The orthodox monks commonly employed themselves in\nweaving mats of palm-leaves; but, living in the deserts, with no wants,\nthey speedily sank into a listless apathy; and the most admired were those\nwho, like Simeon Stylites, and the hermit John, of whom I have already\nspoken, were most exclusively devoted to their superstition. Diversities\nof individual character were, however, vividly displayed. Many anchorites,\nwithout knowledge, passions, or imagination, having fled from servile toil\nto the calm of the wilderness, passed the long hours in sleep or in a\nmechanical routine of prayer, and their inert and languid existences,\nprolonged to the extreme of old age, closed at last by a tranquil and\nalmost animal death. Others made their cells by the clear fountains and\nclustering palm-trees of some oasis in the desert, and a blooming garden\narose beneath their toil. The numerous monks who followed St. Serapion\ndevoted themselves largely to agriculture, and sent shiploads of corn for\nthe benefit of the poor.(250) Of one old hermit it is related that, such\nwas the cheerfulness of his mind, that every sorrow was dispelled by his\npresence, and the weary and the heartbroken were consoled by a few words\nfrom his lips.(251) More commonly, however, the hermit\u2019s cell was the\nscene of perpetual mourning. Tears and sobs, and frantic strugglings with\nimaginary d\u00e6mons, and paroxysms of religious despair, were the texture of\nhis life, and the dread of spiritual enemies, and of that death which his\nsuperstition had rendered so terrible, embittered every hour of his\nexistence.(252) The solace of intellectual occupations was rarely resorted\nto. \u201cThe duty,\u201d said St. Jerome, \u201cof a monk is not to teach, but to\nweep.\u201d(253) A cultivated and disciplined mind was the least subject to\nthose hallucinations, which were regarded as the highest evidence of\nDivine favour;(254) and although in an age when the passion for asceticism\nwas general, many scholars became ascetics, the great majority of the\nearly monks appear to have been men who were not only absolutely ignorant\nthemselves, but who also looked upon learning with positive disfavour. St.\nAntony, the true founder of monachism, refused when a boy to learn\nletters, because it would bring him into too great intercourse with other\nboys.(255) At a time when St. Jerome had suffered himself to feel a deep\nadmiration for the genius of Cicero, he was, as he himself tells us, borne\nin the night before the tribunal of Christ, accused of being rather a\nCiceronian than a Christian, and severely flagellated by the angels.(256)\nThis saint, however, afterwards modified his opinions about the Pagan\nwritings, and he was compelled to defend himself at length against his\nmore jealous brethren, who accused him of defiling his writings with\nquotations from Pagan authors, of employing some monks in copying Cicero,\nand of explaining Virgil to some children at Bethlehem.(257) Of one monk\nit is related that, being especially famous as a linguist, he made it his\npenance to remain perfectly silent for thirty years;(258) of another, that\nhaving discovered a few books in the cell of a brother hermit, he\nreproached the student with having thus defrauded of their property the\nwidow and the orphan;(259) of others, that their only books were copies of\nthe New Testament, which they sold to relieve the poor.(260)\n\nWith such men, living such a life, visions and miracles were necessarily\nhabitual. All the elements of hallucination were there. Ignorant and\nsuperstitious, believing as a matter of religious conviction that\ncountless d\u00e6mons filled the air, attributing every fluctuation of his\ntemperament, and every exceptional phenomenon in surrounding nature, to\nspiritual agency; delirious, too, from solitude and long continued\nausterities, the hermit soon mistook for palpable realities the phantoms\nof his brain. In the ghastly gloom of the sepulchre, where, amid\nmouldering corpses, he took up his abode; in the long hours of the night\nof penance, when the desert wind sobbed around his lonely cell, and the\ncries of wild beasts were borne upon his ear, visible forms of lust or\nterror appeared to haunt him, and strange dramas were enacted by those who\nwere contending for his soul. An imagination strained to the utmost limit,\nacting upon a frame attenuated and diseased by macerations, produced\nbewildering psychological phenomena, paroxysms of conflicting passions,\nsudden alternations of joy and anguish, which he regarded as manifestly\nsupernatural. Sometimes, in the very ecstasy of his devotion, the memory\nof old scenes would crowd upon his mind. The shady groves and soft\nvoluptuous gardens of his native city would arise, and, kneeling alone\nupon the burning sand, he seemed to see around him the fair groups of\ndancing-girls, on whose warm, undulating limbs and wanton smiles his\nyouthful eyes had too fondly dwelt. Sometimes his temptation sprang from\nremembered sounds. The sweet, licentious songs of other days came floating\non his ear, and his heart was thrilled with the passions of the past. And\nthen the scene would change. As his lips were murmuring the psalter, his\nimagination, fired perhaps by the music of some martial psalm, depicted\nthe crowded amphitheatre. The throng and passion and mingled cries of\neager thousands were present to his mind, and the fierce joy of the\ngladiators passed through the tumult of his dream.(261) The simplest\nincident came at last to suggest diabolical influence. An old hermit,\nweary and fainting upon his journey, once thought how refreshing would be\na draught of the honey of wild bees of the desert. At that moment his eye\nfell upon a rock on which they had built a hive. He passed on with a\nshudder and an exorcism, for he believed it to be a temptation of the\ndevil.(262) But most terrible of all were the struggles of young and\nardent men, through whose veins the hot blood of passion continually\nflowed, physically incapable of a life of celibacy, and with all that\nproneness to hallucination which a southern sun engenders, who were borne\non the wave of enthusiasm to the desert life. In the arms of Syrian or\nAfrican brides, whose soft eyes answered love with love, they might have\nsunk to rest, but in the lonely wilderness no peace could ever visit their\nsouls. The Lives of the Saints paint with an appalling vividness the\nagonies of their struggle. Multiplying with frantic energy the macerations\nof the body, beating their breasts with anguish, the tears for ever\nstreaming from their eyes, imagining themselves continually haunted by\never-changing forms of deadly beauty, which acquired a greater vividness\nfrom the very passion with which they resisted them, their struggles not\nunfrequently ended in insanity and in suicide. It is related that when St.\nPachomius and St. Pal\u00e6mon were conversing together in the desert, a young\nmonk, with his countenance distracted with madness, rushed into their\npresence, and, in a voice broken with convulsive sobs, poured out his tale\nof sorrows. A woman, he said, had entered his cell, had seduced him by her\nartifices, and then vanished miraculously in the air, leaving him half\ndead upon the ground;\u2014and then with a wild shriek the monk broke away from\nthe saintly listeners. Impelled, as they imagined, by an evil spirit, he\nrushed across the desert, till he arrived at the next village, and there,\nleaping into the open furnace of the public baths, he perished in the\nflames.(263) Strange stories were told among the monks of revulsions of\npassion even in the most advanced. Of one monk especially, who had long\nbeen regarded as a pattern of asceticism, but who had suffered himself to\nfall into that self-complacency which was very common among the\nanchorites, it was told that one evening a fainting woman appeared at the\ndoor of his cell, and implored him to give her shelter, and not permit her\nto be devoured by the wild beasts. In an evil hour he yielded to her\nprayer. With all the aspect of profound reverence she won his regards, and\nat last ventured to lay her hand upon him. But that touch convulsed his\nframe. Passions long slumbering and forgotten rushed with impetuous fury\nthrough his veins. In a paroxysm of fierce love, he sought to clasp the\nwoman to his heart, but she vanished from his sight, and a chorus of\nd\u00e6mons, with peals of laughter, exulted over his fall. The sequel of the\nstory, as it is told by the monkish writer, is, I think, of a very high\norder of artistic merit. The fallen hermit did not seek, as might have\nbeen expected, by penance and prayers to renew his purity. That moment of\npassion and of shame had revealed in him a new nature, and severed him\nirrevocably from the hopes and feelings of the ascetic life. The fair form\nthat had arisen upon his dream, though he knew it to be a deception luring\nhim to destruction, still governed his heart. He fled from the desert,\nplunged anew into the world, avoided all intercourse with the monks, and\nfollowed the light of that ideal beauty even into the jaws of hell.(264)\n\nAnecdotes of this kind, circulated among the monks, contributed to\nheighten the feelings of terror with which they regarded all communication\nwith the other sex. But to avoid such communication was sometimes very\ndifficult. Few things are more striking, in the early historians of the\nmovement we are considering, than the manner in which narratives of the\ndeepest tragical interest alternate with extremely whimsical accounts of\nthe profound admiration with which the female devotees regarded the most\naustere anchorites, and the unwearied perseverance with which they\nendeavoured to force themselves upon their notice. Some women seem in this\nrespect to have been peculiarly fortunate. St. Melania, who devoted a\ngreat portion of her fortune to the monks, accompanied by the historian\nRufinus, made, near the end of the fourth century, a long pilgrimage\nthrough the Syrian and Egyptian hermitages.(265) But with many of the\nhermits it was a rule never to look upon the face of any woman, and the\nnumber of years they had escaped this contamination was commonly stated as\na conspicuous proof of their excellence. St. Basil would only speak to a\nwoman under extreme necessity.(266) St. John of Lycopolis had not seen a\nwoman for forty-eight years.(267) A tribune was sent by his wife on a\npilgrimage to St. John the hermit to implore him to allow her to visit\nhim, her desire being so intense that she would probably, in the opinion\nof her husband, die if it were ungratified. At last the hermit told his\nsuppliant that he would that night visit his wife when she was in bed in\nher house. The tribune brought this strange message to his wife, who that\nnight saw the hermit in a dream.(268) A young Roman girl made a pilgrimage\nfrom Italy to Alexandria, to look upon the face and obtain the prayers of\nSt. Arsenius, into whose presence she forced herself. Quailing beneath his\nrebuffs, she flung herself at his feet, imploring him with tears to grant\nher only request\u2014to remember her, and to pray for her. \u201cRemember you!\u201d\ncried the indignant saint; \u201cit shall be the prayer of my life that I may\nforget you.\u201d The poor girl sought consolation from the Archbishop of\nAlexandria, who comforted her by assuring her that, though she belonged to\nthe sex by which d\u00e6mons commonly tempt saints, he doubted not the hermit\nwould pray for her soul, though he would try to forget her face.(269)\nSometimes this female enthusiasm took another and a more subtle form, and\non more than one occasion women were known to attire themselves as men,\nand to pass their lives undisturbed as anchorites. Among others, St.\nPelagia, who had been the most beautiful, and one of the most dangerously\nseductive actresses of Antioch, having been somewhat strangely converted,\nwas appointed by the bishops to live in penance with an elderly virgin of\nirreproachable piety; but, impelled, we are told, by her desire for a more\naustere life, she fled from her companion, assumed a male attire, took\nrefuge among the monks on the Mount of Olives, and, with something of the\nskill of her old profession, supported her feigned character so\nconsistently that she acquired great renown, and it was only (it is said)\nafter her death that the saints discovered who had been living among\nthem.(270)\n\nThe foregoing anecdotes and observations will, I hope, have given a\nsufficiently clear idea of the general nature of the monastic life in its\nearliest phase, and also of the writings it produced. We may now proceed\nto examine the ways in which this mode of life affected both the ideal\ntype and the realised condition of Christian morals. And in the first\nplace, it is manifest that the proportion of virtues was altered. If an\nimpartial person were to glance over the ethics of the New Testament, and\nwere asked what was the central and distinctive virtue to which the sacred\nwriters most continually referred, he would doubtless answer that it was\nthat which is described as love, charity, or philanthropy. If he were to\napply a similar scrutiny to the writings of the fourth and fifth\ncenturies, he would answer that the cardinal virtue of the religious type\nwas not love, but chastity. And this chastity, which was regarded as the\nideal state, was not the purity of an undefiled marriage. It was the\nabsolute suppression of the whole sensual side of our nature. The chief\nform of virtue, the central conception of the saintly life, was a\nperpetual struggle against all carnal impulses, by men who altogether\nrefused the compromise of marriage. From this fact, if I mistake not, some\ninteresting and important consequences may be deduced.\n\nIn the first place, religion gradually assumed a very sombre hue. The\nbusiness of the saint was to eradicate a natural appetite, to attain a\ncondition which was emphatically abnormal. The depravity of human nature,\nespecially the essential evil of the body, was felt with a degree of\nintensity that could never have been attained by moralists who were\noccupied mainly with transient or exceptional vices, such as envy, anger,\nor cruelty. And in addition to the extreme inveteracy of the appetite\nwhich it was desired to eradicate, it should be remembered that a somewhat\nluxurious and indulgent life, even when that indulgence is not itself\ndistinctly evil, even when it has a tendency to mollify the character, has\nnaturally the effect of strengthening the animal passions, and is\ntherefore directly opposed to the ascetic ideal. The consequence of this\nwas first of all a very deep sense of the habitual and innate depravity of\nhuman nature; and, in the next place, a very strong association of the\nidea of pleasure with that of vice. All this necessarily flowed from the\nsupreme value placed upon virginity. The tone of calm and joyousness that\ncharacterises Greek philosophy, the almost complete absence of all sense\nof struggle and innate sin that it displays, is probably in a very large\ndegree to be ascribed to the fact that, in the department of morals we are\nconsidering, Greek moralists made no serious efforts to improve our\nnature, and Greek public opinion acquiesced, without scandal, in an almost\nboundless indulgence of illicit pleasures.\n\nBut while the great prominence at this time given to the conflicts of the\nascetic life threw a dark shade upon the popular estimate of human nature,\nit contributed, I think, very largely to sustain and deepen that strong\nconviction of the freedom of the human will which the Catholic Church has\nalways so strenuously upheld; for there is, probably, no other form of\nmoral conflict in which men are so habitually and so keenly sensible of\nthat distinction between our will and our desires, upon the reality of\nwhich all moral freedom ultimately depends. It had also, I imagine,\nanother result, which it is difficult to describe with the same precision.\nWhat may be called a strong animal nature\u2014a nature, that is, in which the\npassions are in vigorous, and at the same time healthy, action\u2014is that in\nwhich we should most naturally expect to find several moral qualities.\nGood humour, frankness, generosity, active courage, sanguine energy,\nbuoyancy of temper, are the usual and appropriate accompaniments of a\nvigorous animal temperament, and they are much more rarely found either in\nnatures that are essentially feeble and effeminate, or in natures which\nhave been artificially emasculated by penances, distorted from their\noriginal tendency, and habitually held under severe control. The ideal\ntype of Catholicism being, on account of the supreme value placed upon\nvirginity, of the latter kind, the qualities I have mentioned have always\nranked very low in the Catholic conceptions of excellence, and the steady\ntendency of Protestant and industrial civilisation has been to elevate\nthem.\n\nI do not know whether the reader will regard these speculations\u2014which I\nadvance with some diffidence\u2014as far-fetched and fanciful. Our knowledge of\nthe physical antecedents of different moral qualities is so scanty that it\nis difficult to speak on these matters with much confidence; but few\npersons, I think, can have failed to observe that the physical\ntemperaments I have described differ not simply in the one great fact of\nthe intensity of the animal passions, but also in the aptitude of each to\nproduce a distinct moral type, or, in other words, in the harmony of each\nwith several qualities, both good and evil. A doctrine, therefore, which\nconnects one of these two temperaments indissolubly with the moral ideal,\naffects the appreciation of a large number of moral qualities. But\nwhatever may be thought of the moral results springing from the physical\ntemperament which asceticism produced, there can be little controversy as\nto the effects springing from the condition of life which it enjoined.\nSeverance from the interests and affections of all around him was the\nchief object of the anchorite, and the first consequence of the prominence\nof asceticism was a profound discredit thrown upon the domestic virtues.\n\nThe extent to which this discredit was carried, the intense hardness of\nheart and ingratitude manifested by the saints towards those who were\nbound to them by the closest of earthly ties, is known to few who have not\nstudied the original literature on the subject. These things are commonly\nthrown into the shade by those modern sentimentalists who delight in\nidealising the devotees of the past. To break by his ingratitude the heart\nof the mother who had borne him, to persuade the wife who adored him that\nit was her duty to separate from him for ever, to abandon his children,\nuncared for and beggars, to the mercies of the world, was regarded by the\ntrue hermit as the most acceptable offering he could make to his God. His\nbusiness was to save his own soul. The serenity of his devotion would be\nimpaired by the discharge of the simplest duties to his family. Evagrius,\nwhen a hermit in the desert, received, after a long interval, letters from\nhis father and mother. He could not bear that the equable tenor of his\nthoughts should be disturbed by the recollection of those who loved him,\nso he cast the letters unread into the fire.(271) A man named Mutius,\naccompanied by his only child, a little boy of eight years old, abandoned\nhis possessions and demanded admission into a monastery. The monks\nreceived him, but they proceeded to discipline his heart. \u201cHe had already\nforgotten that he was rich; he must next be taught to forget that he was a\nfather.\u201d(272) His little child was separated from him, clothed in dirty\nrags, subjected to every form of gross and wanton hardship, beaten,\nspurned, and ill treated. Day after day the father was compelled to look\nupon his boy wasting away with sorrow, his once happy countenance for ever\nstained with tears, distorted by sobs of anguish. But yet, says the\nadmiring biographer, \u201cthough he saw this day by day, such was his love for\nChrist, and for the virtue of obedience, that the father\u2019s heart was rigid\nand unmoved. He thought little of the tears of his child. He was anxious\nonly for his own humility and perfection in virtue.\u201d(273) At last the\nabbot told him to take his child and throw it into the river. He\nproceeded, without a murmur or apparent pang, to obey, and it was only at\nthe last moment that the monks interposed, and on the very brink of the\nriver saved the child. Mutius afterwards rose to a high position among the\nascetics, and was justly regarded as having displayed in great perfection\nthe temper of a saint.(274) An inhabitant of Thebes once came to the abbot\nSisoes, and asked to be made a monk. The abbot asked if he had any one\nbelonging to him. He answered, \u201cA son.\u201d \u201cTake your son,\u201d rejoined the old\nman, \u201cand throw him into the river, and then you may become a monk.\u201d The\nfather hastened to fulfil the command, and the deed was almost consummated\nwhen a messenger sent by Sisoes revoked the order.(275)\n\nSometimes the same lesson was taught under the form of a miracle. A man\nhad once deserted his three children to become a monk. Three years after,\nhe determined to bring them into the monastery, but, on returning to his\nhome, found that the two eldest had died during his absence. He came to\nhis abbot, bearing in his arms his youngest child, who was still little\nmore than an infant. The abbot turned to him and said, \u201cDo you love this\nchild?\u201d The father answered, \u201cYes.\u201d Again the abbot said, \u201cDo you love it\ndearly?\u201d The father answered as before. \u201cThen take the child,\u201d said the\nabbot, \u201cand throw it into the fire upon yonder hearth.\u201d The father did as\nhe was commanded, and the child remained unharmed amid the flames.(276)\nBut it was especially in their dealings with their female relations that\nthis aspect of the monastic character was vividly displayed. In this case\nthe motive was not simply to mortify family affections\u2014it was also to\nguard against the possible danger resulting from the presence of a woman.\nThe fine flower of that saintly purity might have been disturbed by the\nsight of a mother\u2019s or a sister\u2019s face. The ideal of one age appears\nsometimes too grotesque for the caricature of another; and it is curious\nto observe how pale and weak is the picture which Moli\u00e8re drew of the\naffected prudery of Tartuffe,(277) when compared with the narratives that\nare gravely propounded in the Lives of the Saints. When the abbot Sisoes\nhad become a very old, feeble, and decrepit man, his disciples exhorted\nhim to leave the desert for an inhabited country. Sisoes seemed to yield;\nbut he stipulated, as a necessary condition, that in his new abode he\nshould never be compelled to encounter the peril and perturbation of\nlooking on a woman\u2019s face. To such a nature, of course, the desert alone\nwas suitable, and the old man was suffered to die in peace.(278) A monk\nwas once travelling with his mother\u2014in itself a most unusual\ncircumstance\u2014and, having arrived at a bridgeless stream, it became\nnecessary for him to carry her across. To her surprise, he began carefully\nwrapping up his hands in cloths; and upon her asking the reason, he\nexplained that he was alarmed lest he should be unfortunate enough to\ntouch her, and thereby disturb the equilibrium of his nature.(279) The\nsister of St. John of Calama loved him dearly, and earnestly implored him\nthat she might look upon his face once more before she died. On his\npersistent refusal, she declared that she would make a pilgrimage to him\nin the desert. The alarmed and perplexed saint at last wrote to her,\npromising to visit her if she would engage to relinquish her design. He\nwent to her in disguise, received a cup of water from her hands, and came\naway without being discovered. She wrote to him, reproaching him with not\nhaving fulfilled his promise. He answered her that he had indeed visited\nher, that \u201cby the mercy of Jesus Christ he had not been recognised,\u201d and\nthat she must never see him again.(280) The mother of St. Theodorus came\narmed with letters from the bishops to see her son, but he implored his\nabbot, St. Pachomius, to permit him to decline the interview; and, finding\nall her efforts in vain, the poor woman retired into a convent, together\nwith her daughter, who had made a similar expedition with similar\nresults.(281) The mother of St. Marcus persuaded his abbot to command the\nsaint to go out to her. Placed in a dilemma between the sin of\ndisobedience and the perils of seeing his mother, St. Marcus extricated\nhimself by an ingenious device. He went to his mother with his face\ndisguised and his eyes shut. The mother did not recognise her son. The son\ndid not see his mother.(282) The sister of St. Pior in like manner induced\nthe abbot of that saint to command him to admit her to his presence. The\ncommand was obeyed, but St. Pior resolutely kept his eyes shut during the\ninterview.(283) St. P\u0153men and his six brothers had all deserted their\nmother to cultivate the perfections of an ascetic life. But ingratitude\ncan seldom quench the love of a mother\u2019s heart, and the old woman, now\nbent by infirmities, went alone into the Egyptian desert to see once more\nthe children she so dearly loved. She caught sight of them as they were\nabout to leave their cell for the church, but they immediately ran back\ninto the cell, and, before her tottering steps could reach it, one of her\nsons rushed forward and closed the door in her face. She remained outside\nweeping bitterly. St. P\u0153men then, coming to the door, but without opening\nit, said, \u201cWhy do you, who are already stricken with age, pour forth such\ncries and lamentations?\u201d But she, recognising the voice of her son,\nanswered, \u201cIt is because I long to see you, my sons. What harm could it do\nyou that I should see you? Am I not your mother? did I not give you suck?\nI am now an old and wrinkled woman, and my heart is troubled at the sound\nof your voices.\u201d(284) The saintly brothers, however, refused to open their\ndoor. They told their mother that she would see them after death; and the\nbiographer says she at last went away contented with the prospect. St.\nSimeon Stylites, in this as in other respects, stands in the first line.\nHe had been passionately loved by his parents, and, if we may believe his\neulogist and biographer, he began his saintly career by breaking the heart\nof his father, who died of grief at his flight. His mother, however,\nlingered on. Twenty-seven years after his disappearance, at a period when\nhis austerities had made him famous, she heard for the first time where he\nwas, and hastened to visit him. But all her labour was in vain. No woman\nwas admitted within the precincts of his dwelling, and he refused to\npermit her even to look upon his face. Her entreaties and tears were\nmingled with words of bitter and eloquent reproach.(285) \u201cMy son,\u201d she is\nrepresented as having said, \u201cwhy have you done this? I bore you in my\nwomb, and you have wrung my soul with grief. I gave you milk from my\nbreast, you have filled my eyes with tears. For the kisses I gave you, you\nhave given me the anguish of a broken heart; for all that I have done and\nsuffered for you, you have repaid me by the most cruel wrongs.\u201d At last\nthe saint sent a message to tell her that she would soon see him. Three\ndays and three nights she had wept and entreated in vain, and now,\nexhausted with grief and age and privation, she sank feebly to the ground\nand breathed her last sigh before that inhospitable door. Then for the\nfirst time the saint, accompanied by his followers, came out. He shed some\npious tears over the corpse of his murdered mother, and offered up a\nprayer consigning her soul to heaven. Perhaps it was but fancy, perhaps\nlife was not yet wholly extinct, perhaps the story is but the invention of\nthe biographer; but a faint motion\u2014which appears to have been regarded as\nmiraculous\u2014is said to have passed over her prostrate form. Simeon once\nmore commended her soul to heaven, and then, amid the admiring murmurs of\nhis disciples, the saintly matricide returned to his devotions.\n\nThe glaring mendacity that characterises the Lives of the Catholic Saints,\nprobably to a greater extent than any other important branch of existing\nliterature, makes it not unreasonable to hope that many of the foregoing\nanecdotes represent much less events that actually took place than ideal\npictures generated by the enthusiasm of the chroniclers. They are not,\nhowever, on that account the less significant of the moral conceptions\nwhich the ascetic period had created. The ablest men in the Christian\ncommunity vied with one another in inculcating as the highest form of duty\nthe abandonment of social ties and the mortification of domestic\naffections. A few faint restrictions were indeed occasionally made.\nMuch\u2014on which I shall hereafter touch\u2014was written on the liberty of\nhusbands and wives deserting one another; and something was written on the\ncases of children forsaking or abandoning their parents. At first, those\nwho, when children, were devoted to the monasteries by their parents,\nwithout their own consent, were permitted, when of mature age, to return\nto the world; and this liberty was taken from them for the first time by\nthe fourth Council of Toledo, in A.D. 633.(286) The Council of Gangra\ncondemned the heretic Eustathius for teaching that children might, through\nreligious motives, forsake their parents, and St. Basil wrote in the same\nstrain;(287) but cases of this kind of rebellion against parental\nauthority were continually recounted with admiration in the Lives of the\nSaints, applauded by some of the leading Fathers, and virtually sanctioned\nby a law of Justinian, which deprived parents of the power of either\nrestraining their children from entering monasteries, or disinheriting\nthem if they had done so without their consent.(288) St. Chrysostom\nrelates with enthusiasm the case of a young man who had been designed by\nhis father for the army, and who was lured away to a monastery.(289) The\neloquence of St. Ambrose is said to have been so seductive, that mothers\nwere accustomed to shut up their daughters to guard them against his\nfascinations.(290) The position of affectionate parents was at this time\nextremely painful. The touching language is still preserved, in which the\nmother of Chrysostom\u2014who had a distinguished part in the conversion of her\nson\u2014implored him, if he thought it his duty to fly to the desert life, at\nleast to postpone the act till she had died.(291) St. Ambrose devoted a\nchapter to proving that, while those are worthy of commendation who enter\nthe monasteries with the approbation, those are still more worthy of\npraise who do so against the wishes, of their parents; and he proceeded to\nshow how small were the penalties the latter could inflict when compared\nwith the blessings asceticism could bestow.(292) Even before the law of\nJustinian, the invectives of the clergy were directed against those who\nendeavoured to prevent their children flying to the desert. St. Chrysostom\nexplained to them that they would certainly be damned.(293) St. Ambrose\nshowed that, even in this world, they might not be unpunished. A girl, he\ntells us, had resolved to enter into a convent, and as her relations were\nexpostulating with her on her intention, one of those present tried to\nmove her by the memory of her dead father, asking whether, if he were\nstill alive, he would have suffered her to remain unmarried. \u201cPerhaps,\u201d\nshe calmly answered, \u201cit was for this very purpose he died, that he should\nnot throw any obstacle in my way.\u201d Her words were more than an answer;\nthey were an oracle. The indiscreet questioner almost immediately died,\nand the relations, shocked by the manifest providence, desisted from their\nopposition, and even implored the young saint to accomplish her\ndesign.(294) St. Jerome tells with rapturous enthusiasm of a little girl,\nnamed Asella, who, when only twelve years old, devoted herself to the\nreligious life and refused to look on the face of any man, and whose\nknees, by constant prayer, became at last like those of a camel.(295) A\nfamous widow, named Paula, upon the death of her husband, deserted her\nfamily, listened with \u201cdry eyes\u201d to her children, who were imploring her\nto stay, fled to the society of the monks at Jerusalem, made it her desire\nthat \u201cshe might die a beggar, and leave not one piece of money to her\nson,\u201d and, having dissipated the whole of her fortune in charities,\nbequeathed to her children only the embarrassment of her debts.(296) It\nwas carefully inculcated that all money given or bequeathed to the poor,\nor to the monks, produced spiritual benefit to the donors or testators,\nbut that no spiritual benefit sprang from money bestowed upon relations;\nand the more pious minds recoiled from disposing of their property in a\nmanner that would not redound to the advantage of their souls. Sometimes\nparents made it a dying request to their children that they would preserve\nnone of their property, but would bestow it all among the poor.(297) It\nwas one of the most honourable incidents of the life of St. Augustine,\nthat he, like Aurelius, Bishop of Carthage, refused to receive legacies or\ndonations which unjustly spoliated the relatives of the benefactor.(298)\nUsually, however, to outrage the affections of the nearest and dearest\nrelations was not only regarded as innocent, but proposed as the highest\nvirtue. \u201cA young man,\u201d it was acutely said, \u201cwho has learnt to despise a\nmother\u2019s grief, will easily bear any other labour that is imposed upon\nhim.\u201d(299) St. Jerome, when exhorting Heliodorus to desert his family and\nbecome a hermit, expatiated with a fond minuteness on every form of\nnatural affection he desired him to violate. \u201cThough your little nephew\ntwine his arms around your neck; though your mother, with dishevelled hair\nand tearing her robe asunder, point to the breast with which she suckled\nyou; though your father fall down on the threshold before you, pass on\nover your father\u2019s body. Fly with tearless eyes to the banner of the\ncross. In this matter cruelty is the only piety.... Your widowed sister\nmay throw her gentle arms around you.... Your father may implore you to\nwait but a short time to bury those near to you, who will soon be no more;\nyour weeping mother may recall your childish days, and may point to her\nshrunken breast and to her wrinkled brow. Those around you may tell you\nthat all the household rests upon you. Such chains as these, the love of\nGod and the fear of hell can easily break. You say that Scripture orders\nyou to obey your parents, but he who loves them more than Christ loses his\nsoul. The enemy brandishes a sword to slay me. Shall I think of a mother\u2019s\ntears?\u201d(300)\n\nThe sentiment manifested in these cases continued to be displayed in later\nages. Thus, St. Gregory the Great assures us that a certain young boy,\nthough he had enrolled himself as a monk, was unable to repress his love\nfor his parents, and one night stole out secretly to visit them. But the\njudgment of God soon marked the enormity of the offence. On coming back to\nthe monastery, he died that very day, and when he was buried, the earth\nrefused to receive so heinous a criminal. His body was repeatedly thrown\nup from the grave, and it was only suffered to rest in peace when St.\nBenedict had laid the Sacrament upon its breast.(301) One nun revealed, it\nis said, after death, that she had been condemned for three days to the\nfires of purgatory, because she had loved her mother too much.(302) Of\nanother saint it is recorded that his benevolence was such that he was\nnever known to be hard or inhuman to any one except his relations.(303)\nSt. Romuald, the founder of the Camaldolites, counted his father among his\nspiritual children, and on one occasion punished him by flagellation.(304)\nThe first nun whom St. Francis of Assisi enrolled was a beautiful girl of\nAssisi named Clara Scifi, with whom he had for some time carried on a\nclandestine correspondence, and whose flight from her father\u2019s home he\nboth counselled and planned.(305) As the first enthusiasm of asceticism\ndied away, what was lost in influence by the father was gained by the\npriest. The confessional made this personage the confidant in the most\ndelicate secrets of domestic life. The supremacy of authority, of\nsympathy, and sometimes even of affection, passed away beyond the domestic\ncircle, and, by establishing an absolute authority over the most secret\nthoughts and feelings of nervous and credulous women, the priests laid the\nfoundation of the empire of the world.\n\nThe picture I have drawn of the inroads made in the first period of\nasceticism upon the domestic affections, tells, I think, its own story,\nand I shall only add a very few words of comment. That it is necessary for\nmany men who are pursuing a truly heroic course to break loose from the\ntrammels which those about them would cast over their actions or their\nopinions, and that this severance often constitutes at once one of the\nnoblest and one of the most painful incidents in their career, are\nunquestionable truths; but the examples of such occasional and exceptional\nsacrifices, endured for some great unselfish end, cannot be compared with\nthe conduct of those who regarded the mortification of domestic love as in\nitself a form of virtue, and whose ends were mainly or exclusively\nselfish. The sufferings endured by the ascetic who fled from his relations\nwere often, no doubt, very great. Many anecdotes remain to show that warm\nand affectionate hearts sometimes beat under the cold exterior of the\nmonk;(306) and St. Jerome, in one of his letters, remarked, with much\ncomplacency and congratulation, that the very bitterest pang of captivity\nis simply this irrevocable separation which the superstition he preached\ninduced multitudes to inflict upon themselves. But if, putting aside the\nintrinsic excellence of an act, we attempt to estimate the nobility of the\nagent, we must consider not only the cost of what he did, but also the\nmotive which induced him to do it. It is this last consideration which\nrenders it impossible for us to place the heroism of the ascetic on the\nsame level with that of the great patriots of Greece or Rome. A man may be\nas truly selfish about the next world as about this. Where an overpowering\ndread of future torments, or an intense realisation of future happiness,\nis the leading motive of action, the theological virtue of faith may be\npresent, but the ennobling quality of disinterestedness is assuredly\nabsent. In our day, when pictures of rewards and punishments beyond the\ngrave act but feebly upon the imagination, a religious motive is commonly\nan unselfish motive; but it has not always been so, and it was undoubtedly\nnot so in the first period of asceticism. The terrors of a future judgment\ndrove the monk into the desert, and the whole tenor of the ascetic life,\nwhile isolating him from human sympathies, fostered an intense, though it\nmay be termed a religious, selfishness.\n\nThe effect of the mortification of the domestic affections upon the\ngeneral character was probably very pernicious. The family circle is the\nappointed sphere, not only for the performance of manifest duties, but\nalso for the cultivation of the affections; and the extreme ferocity which\nso often characterised the ascetic was the natural consequence of the\ndiscipline he imposed upon himself. Severed from all other ties, the monks\nclung with a desperate tenacity to their opinions and to their Church, and\nhated those who dissented from them with all the intensity of men whose\nwhole lives were concentrated on a single subject, whose ignorance and\nbigotry prevented them from conceiving the possibility of any good thing\nin opposition to themselves, and who had made it a main object of their\ndiscipline to eradicate all natural sympathies and affections. We may\nreasonably attribute to the fierce biographer the words of burning hatred\nof all heretics which St. Athanasius puts in the mouth of the dying\npatriarch of the hermits;(307) but ecclesiastical history, and especially\nthe writings of the later Pagans, abundantly prove that the sentiment was\na general one. To the Christian bishops it is mainly due that the wide and\ngeneral, though not perfect, recognition of religious liberty in the Roman\nlegislation was replaced by laws of the most minute and stringent\nintolerance. To the monks, acting as the executive of an omnipresent,\nintolerant, and aggressive clergy, is due an administrative change,\nperhaps even more important than the legislative change that had preceded\nit. The system of conniving at, neglecting, or despising forms of worship\nthat were formally prohibited, which had been so largely practised by the\nsceptical Pagans, and under the lax police system of the Empire, and which\nis so important a fact in the history of the rise of Christianity, was\nabsolutely destroyed. Wandering in bands through the country, the monks\nwere accustomed to burn the temples, to break the idols, to overthrow the\naltars, to engage in fierce conflicts with the peasants, who often\ndefended with desperate courage the shrines of their gods. It would be\nimpossible to conceive men more fitted for the task. Their fierce\nfanaticism, their persuasion that every idol was tenanted by a literal\nd\u00e6mon, and their belief that death incurred in this iconoclastic crusade\nwas a form of martyrdom, made them careless of all consequences to\nthemselves, while the reverence that attached to their profession rendered\nit scarcely possible for the civil power to arrest them. Men who had\nlearnt to look with indifference on the tears of a broken-hearted mother,\nand whose ideal was indissolubly connected with the degradation of the\nbody, were but little likely to be moved either by the pathos of old\nassociations, and of reverent, though mistaken, worship, or by the\ngrandeur of the Serapeum, or of the noble statues of Phidias and\nPraxiteles. Sometimes the civil power ordered the reconstruction of Jewish\nsynagogues or heretical churches which had been illegally destroyed; but\nthe doctrine was early maintained that such a reconstruction was a deadly\nsin. Under Julian some Christians suffered martyrdom sooner than be\nparties to it; and St. Ambrose from the pulpit of Milan, and Simeon\nStylites from his desert pillar, united in denouncing Theodosius, who had\nbeen guilty of issuing this command.\n\nAnother very important moral result to which asceticism largely\ncontributed was the depression and sometimes almost the extinction of the\ncivic virtues. A candid examination will show that the Christian\ncivilisations have been as inferior to the Pagan ones in civic and\nintellectual virtues as they have been superior to them in the virtues of\nhumanity and of chastity. We have already seen that one remarkable feature\nof the intellectual movement that preceded Christianity was the gradual\ndecadence of patriotism. In the early days both of Greece and Rome, the\nfirst duty enforced was that of a man to his country. This was the\nrudimentary or cardinal virtue of the moral type. It gave the tone to the\nwhole system of ethics, and different moral qualities were valued chiefly\nin proportion to their tendency to form illustrious citizens. The\ndestruction of this spirit in the Roman Empire was due, as we have seen,\nto two causes\u2014one of them being political and the other intellectual. The\npolitical cause was the amalgamation of the different nations in one great\ndespotism, which gave indeed an ample field for personal and intellectual\nfreedom, but extinguished the sentiment of nationality and closed almost\nevery sphere of political activity. The intellectual cause, which was by\nno means unconnected with the political one, was the growing ascendancy of\nOriental philosophies, which dethroned the active Stoicism of the early\nEmpire, and placed its ideal of excellence in contemplative virtues and in\nelaborate purifications. By this decline of the patriotic sentiment the\nprogress of the new faith was greatly aided. In all matters of religion\nthe opinions of men are governed much more by their sympathies than by\ntheir judgments; and it rarely or never happens that a religion which is\nopposed to a strong national sentiment, as Christianity was in Judea, as\nCatholicism and Episcopalian Protestantism have been in Scotland, and as\nAnglicanism is even now in Ireland, can win the acceptance of the people.\n\nThe relations of Christianity to the sentiment of patriotism were from the\nfirst very unfortunate. While the Christians were, for obvious reasons,\ncompletely separated from the national spirit of Judea, they found\nthemselves equally at variance with the lingering remnants of Roman\npatriotism. Rome was to them the power of Antichrist, and its overthrow\nthe necessary prelude to the millennial reign. They formed an illegal\norganisation, directly opposed to the genius of the Empire, anticipating\nits speedy destruction, looking back with something more than despondency\nto the fate of the heroes who adorned its past, and refusing resolutely to\nparticipate in those national spectacles which were the symbols and the\nexpressions of patriotic feeling. Though scrupulously averse to all\nrebellion, they rarely concealed their sentiments, and the whole tendency\nof their teaching was to withdraw men as far as possible both from the\nfunctions and the enthusiasm of public life. It was at once their\nconfession and their boast, that no interests were more indifferent to\nthem than those of their country.(308) They regarded the lawfulness of\ntaking arms as very questionable, and all those proud and aspiring\nqualities that constitute the distinctive beauty of the soldier\u2019s\ncharacter as emphatically unchristian. Their home and their interests were\nin another world, and, provided only they were unmolested in their\nworship, they avowed with frankness, long after the Empire had become\nChristian, that it was a matter of indifference to them under what rule\nthey lived.(309) Asceticism, drawing all the enthusiasm of Christendom to\nthe desert life, and elevating as an ideal the extreme and absolute\nabnegation of all patriotism,(310) formed the culmination of the movement,\nand was undoubtedly one cause of the downfall of the Roman Empire.\n\nThere are, probably, few subjects on which popular judgments are commonly\nmore erroneous than upon the relations between positive religions and\nmoral enthusiasm. Religions have, no doubt, a most real power of evoking a\nlatent energy which, without their existence, would never have been called\ninto action; but their influence is on the whole probably more attractive\nthan creative. They supply the channel in which moral enthusiasm flows,\nthe banner under which it is enlisted, the mould in which it is cast, the\nideal to which it tends. The first idea which the phrase \u201ca very good man\u201d\nwould have suggested to an early Roman would probably have been that of\ngreat and distinguished patriotism, and the passion and interest of such a\nman in his country\u2019s cause were in direct proportion to his moral\nelevation. Ascetic Christianity decisively diverted moral enthusiasm into\nanother channel, and the civic virtues, in consequence, necessarily\ndeclined. The extinction of all public spirit, the base treachery and\ncorruption pervading every department of the Government, the cowardice of\nthe army, the despicable frivolity of character that led the people of\nTreves, when fresh from their burning city, to call for theatres and\ncircuses, and the people of Roman Carthage to plunge wildly into the\nexcitement of the chariot races, on the very day when their city succumbed\nbeneath the Vandal;(311) all these things coexisted with extraordinary\ndisplays of ascetic and of missionary devotion. The genius and the virtue\nthat might have defended the Empire were engaged in fierce disputes about\nthe Pelagian controversy, at the very time when Alaric was encircling Rome\nwith his armies,(312) and there was no subtlety of theological metaphysics\nwhich did not kindle a deeper interest in the Christian leaders than the\nthroes of their expiring country. The moral enthusiasm that in other days\nwould have fired the armies of Rome with an invincible valour, impelled\nthousands to abandon their country and their homes, and consume the weary\nhours in a long routine of useless and horrible macerations. When the\nGoths had captured Rome, St. Augustine, as we have seen, pointed with a\njust pride to the Christian Church, which remained an unviolated sanctuary\nduring the horrors of the sack, as a proof that a new spirit of sanctity\nand of reverence had descended upon the world. The Pagan, in his turn,\npointed to what he deemed a not less significant fact\u2014the golden statues\nof Valour and of Fortune were melted down to pay the ransom to the\nconquerors.(313) Many of the Christians contemplated with an indifference\nthat almost amounted to complacency what they regarded as the predicted\nruin of the city of the fallen gods.(314) When the Vandals swept over\nAfrica, the Donatists, maddened by the persecution of the orthodox,\nreceived them with open arms, and contributed their share to that deadly\nblow.(315) The immortal pass of Thermopyl\u00e6 was surrendered without a\nstruggle to the Goths. A Pagan writer accused the monks of having betrayed\nit.(316) It is more probable that they had absorbed or diverted the\nheroism that in other days would have defended it. The conquest, at a\nlater date, of Egypt, by the Mohammedans, was in a great measure due to an\ninvitation from the persecuted Monophysites.(317) Subsequent religious\nwars have again and again exhibited the same phenomenon. The treachery of\na religionist to his country no longer argued an absence of all moral\nfeeling. It had become compatible with the deepest religious enthusiasm,\nand with all the courage of a martyr.\n\nIt is somewhat difficult to form a just estimate of how far the attitude\nassumed by the Church towards the barbarian invaders has on the whole\nproved beneficial to mankind. The Empire, as we have seen, had long been,\nboth morally and politically, in a condition of manifest decline; its\nfall, though it might have been retarded, could scarcely have been\naverted, and the new religion, even in its most superstitious form, while\nit did much to displace, did also much to elicit moral enthusiasm. It is\nimpossible to deny that the Christian priesthood contributed very\nmaterially, both by their charity and by their arbitration, to mitigate\nthe calamities that accompanied the dissolution of the Empire;(318) and it\nis equally impossible to doubt that their political attitude greatly\nincreased their power for good. Standing between the conflicting forces,\nalmost indifferent to the issue, and notoriously exempt from the passions\nof the combat, they obtained with the conqueror, and used for the benefit\nof the conquered, a degree of influence they would never have possessed,\nhad they been regarded as Roman patriots. Their attitude, however, marked\na complete, and, as it has proved, a permanent, change in the position\nassigned to patriotism in the moral scale. It has occasionally happened in\nlater times, that churches have found it for their interest to appeal to\nthis sentiment in their conflict with opposing creeds, or that patriots\nhave found the objects of churchmen in harmony with their own; and in\nthese cases a fusion of theological and patriotic feeling has taken place,\nin which each has intensified the other. Such has been the effect of the\nconflict between the Spaniards and the Moors, between the Poles and the\nRussians, between the Scotch Puritans and the English Episcopalians,\nbetween the Irish Catholics and the English Protestants. But patriotism\nitself, as a duty, has never found any place in Christian ethics, and\nstrong theological feeling has usually been directly hostile to its\ngrowth. Ecclesiastics have, no doubt, taken a very large share in\npolitical affairs, but this has been in most cases solely with the object\nof wresting them into conformity with ecclesiastical designs; and no other\nbody of men have so uniformly sacrificed the interests of their country to\nthe interests of their class. For the repugnance between the theological\nand the patriotic spirit, three reasons may, I think, be assigned. The\nfirst is that tendency of strong religious feeling to divert the mind from\nall terrestrial cares and passions, of which the ascetic life was the\nextreme expression, but which has always, under different forms, been\nmanifested in the Church. The second arises from the fact that each form\nof theological opinion embodies itself in a visible and organised church,\nwith a government, interest, and policy of its own, and a frontier often\nintersecting rather than following national boundaries; and these churches\nattract to themselves the attachment and devotion that would naturally be\nbestowed upon the country and its rulers. The third reason is, that the\nsaintly and the heroic characters, which represent the ideals of religion\nand of patriotism, are generically different; for although they have no\ndoubt many common elements of virtue, the distinctive excellence of each\nis derived from a proportion or disposition of qualities altogether\ndifferent from that of the other.(319)\n\nBefore dismissing this very important revolution in moral history, I may\nadd two remarks. In the first place, we may observe that the relation of\nthe two great schools of morals to active and political life has been\ncompletely changed. Among the ancients, the Stoics, who regarded virtue\nand vice as generically different from all other things, participated\nactively in public life, and made this participation one of the first of\nduties; while the Epicureans, who resolved virtue into utility, and\nesteemed happiness its supreme motive, abstained from public life, and\ntaught their disciples to neglect it. Asceticism followed the Stoical\nschool in teaching that virtue and happiness are generically different\nthings; but it was at the same time eminently unfavourable to civic\nvirtue. On the other hand, that great industrial movement which has arisen\nsince the abolition of slavery, and which has always been essentially\nutilitarian in its spirit, has been one of the most active and influential\nelements of political progress. This change, though, as far as I know,\nentirely unnoticed by historians, constitutes, I believe, one of the great\nlandmarks of moral history.\n\nThe second observation I would make relates to the estimate we form of the\nvalue of patriotic actions. However much historians may desire to extend\ntheir researches to the private and domestic virtues of a people, civic\nvirtues are always those which must appear most prominently in their\npages. History is concerned only with large bodies of men. The systems of\nphilosophy or religion which produce splendid results on the great theatre\nof public life are fully and easily appreciated, and readers and writers\nare both liable to give them very undue advantages over those systems\nwhich do not favour civic virtues, but exercise their beneficial influence\nin the more obscure fields of individual self-culture, domestic morals, or\nprivate charity. If valued by the self-sacrifice they imply, or by their\neffects upon human happiness, these last rank very high, but they scarcely\nappear in history, and they therefore seldom obtain their due weight in\nhistorical comparisons. Christianity has, I think, suffered peculiarly\nfrom this cause. Its moral action has always been much more powerful upon\nindividuals than upon societies, and the spheres in which its superiority\nover other religions is most incontestable, are precisely those which\nhistory is least capable of realising.\n\nIn attempting to estimate the moral condition of the Roman and Byzantine\nEmpires during the Christian period, and before the old civilisation had\nbeen dissolved by the barbarian or Mohammedan invasions, we must\ncontinually bear this last consideration in mind. We must remember, too,\nthat Christianity had acquired an ascendancy among nations which were\nalready deeply tainted by the inveterate vices of a corrupt and decaying\ncivilisation, and also that many of the censors from whose pages we are\nobliged to form our estimate of the age were men who judged human\nfrailties with all the fastidiousness of ascetics, and who expressed their\njudgments with all the declamatory exaggeration of the pulpit. Modern\ncritics will probably not lay much stress upon the relapse of the\nChristians into the ordinary dress and usages of the luxurious society\nabout them, upon the ridicule thrown by Christians on those who still\nadhered to the primitive austerity of the sect, or upon the fact that\nmultitudes who were once mere nominal Pagans had become mere nominal\nChristians. We find, too, a frequent disposition on the part of moralists\nto single out some new form of luxury, or some trivial custom which they\nregarded as indecorous, for the most extravagant denunciation, and to\nmagnify its importance in a manner which in a later age it is difficult\neven to understand. Examples of this kind may be found both in Pagan and\nin Christian writings, and they form an extremely curious page in the\nhistory of morals. Thus Juvenal exhausts his vocabulary of invective in\ndenouncing the atrocious criminality of a certain noble, who in the very\nyear of his consulship did not hesitate\u2014not, it is true, by day, but at\nleast in the sight of the moon and of the stars\u2014with his own hand to drive\nhis own chariot along the public road.(320) Seneca was scarcely less\nscandalised by the atrocious and, as he thought, unnatural luxury of those\nwho had adopted the custom of cooling different beverages by mixing them\nwith snow.(321) Pliny assures us that the most monstrous of all criminals\nwas the man who first devised the luxurious custom of wearing golden\nrings.(322) Apuleius was compelled to defend himself for having eulogised\ntooth-powder, and he did so, among other ways, by arguing that nature has\njustified this form of propriety, for crocodiles were known periodically\nto leave the waters of the Nile, and to lie with open jaws upon the banks,\nwhile a certain bird proceeds with its beak to clean their teeth.(323) If\nwe were to measure the criminality of different customs by the vehemence\nof the patristic denunciations, we might almost conclude that the most\natrocious offence of their day was the custom of wearing false hair, or\ndyeing natural hair. Clement of Alexandria questioned whether the validity\nof certain ecclesiastical ceremonies might not be affected by wigs; for,\nhe asked, when the priest is placing his hand on the head of the person\nwho kneels before him, if that hand is resting upon false hair, who is it\nhe is really blessing? Tertullian shuddered at the thought that Christians\nmight have the hair of those who were in hell upon their heads, and he\nfound in the tiers of false hair that were in use a distinct rebellion\nagainst the assertion that no one can add to his stature, and, in the\ncustom of dyeing the hair, a contravention of the declaration that man\ncannot make one hair white or black. Centuries rolled away. The Roman\nEmpire tottered to its fall, and floods of vice and sorrow overspread the\nworld; but still the denunciations of the Fathers were unabated. St.\nAmbrose, St. Jerome, and St. Gregory Nazianzen continued with\nuncompromising vehemence the war against false hair, which Tertullian and\nClement of Alexandria had begun.(324)\n\nBut although the vehemence of the Fathers on such trivial matters might\nappear at first sight to imply the existence of a society in which grave\ncorruption was rare, such a conclusion would be totally untrue. After\nevery legitimate allowance has been made, the pictures of Roman society by\nAmmianus Marcellinus, of the society of Marseilles, by Salvian, of the\nsociety of Asia Minor, and of Constantinople, by Chrysostom, as well as\nthe whole tenor of the history, and innumerable incidental notices in the\nwriters, of the time, exhibit a condition of depravity, and especially of\ndegradation, which has seldom been surpassed.(325) The corruption had\nreached classes and institutions that appeared the most holy. The Agap\u00e6,\nor love feasts, which formed one of the most touching symbols of Christian\nunity, had become scenes of drunkenness and of riot. Denounced by the\nFathers, condemned by the Council of Laodicea in the fourth century, and\nafterwards by the Council of Carthage, they lingered as a scandal and an\noffence till they were finally suppressed by the Council of Trullo, at the\nend of the seventh century.(326) The commemoration of the martyrs soon\ndegenerated into scandalous dissipation. Fairs were held on the occasion,\ngross breaches of chastity were frequent, and the annual festival was\nsuppressed on account of the immorality it produced.(327) The ambiguous\nposition of the clergy with reference to marriage already led to grave\ndisorder. In the time of St. Cyprian, before the outbreak of the Decian\npersecution, it had been common to find clergy professing celibacy, but\nkeeping, under various pretexts, their mistresses in their houses;(328)\nand, after Constantine, the complaints on this subject became loud and\ngeneral.(329) Virgins and monks often lived together in the same house,\nprofessing sometimes to share in chastity the same bed.(330) Rich widows\nwere surrounded by swarms of clerical sycophants, who addressed them in\ntender diminutives, studied and consulted their every foible, and, under\nthe guise of piety, lay in wait for their gifts or bequests.(331) The evil\nattained such a point that a law was made under Valentinian depriving the\nChristian priests and monks of that power of receiving legacies which was\npossessed by every other class of the community; and St. Jerome has\nmournfully acknowledged that the prohibition was necessary.(332) Great\nmultitudes entered the Church to avoid municipal offices;(333) the deserts\nwere crowded with men whose sole object was to escape from honest labour,\nand even soldiers used to desert their colours for the monasteries.(334)\nNoble ladies, pretending a desire to lead a higher life, abandoned their\nhusbands to live with low-born lovers.(335) Palestine, which was soon\ncrowded with pilgrims, had become, in the time of St. Gregory of Nyssa, a\nhotbed of debauchery.(336) The evil reputation of pilgrimages long\ncontinued; and in the eighth century we find St. Boniface writing to the\nArchbishop of Canterbury, imploring the bishops to take some measures to\nrestrain or regulate the pilgrimages of their fellow-countrywomen; for\nthere were few towns in central Europe, on the way to Rome, where English\nladies, who started as pilgrims, were not living in open\nprostitution.(337) The luxury and ambition of the higher prelates, and the\npassion for amusements of the inferior priests,(338) were bitterly\nacknowledged. St. Jerome complained that the banquets of many bishops\neclipsed in splendour those of the provincial governors, and the intrigues\nby which they obtained offices, and the fierce partisanship of their\nsupporters, appear in every page of ecclesiastical history.\n\nIn the lay world, perhaps the chief characteristic was extreme\nchildishness. The moral enthusiasm was greater than it had been in most\nperiods of Paganism, but, being drawn away to the desert, it had little\ninfluence upon society. The simple fact that the quarrels between the\nfactions of the chariot races for a long period eclipsed all political,\nintellectual, and even religious differences, filled the streets again and\nagain with bloodshed, and more than once determined great revolutions in\nthe State, is sufficient to show the extent of the decadence. Patriotism\nand courage had almost disappeared, and, notwithstanding the rise of a\nBelisarius or a Narses, the level of public men was extremely depressed.\nThe luxury of the court, the servility of the courtiers, and the\nprevailing splendour of dress and of ornament, had attained an extravagant\nheight. The world grew accustomed to a dangerous alternation of extreme\nasceticism and gross vice, and sometimes, as in the case of Antioch,(339)\nthe most vicious and luxurious cities produced the most numerous\nanchorites. There existed a combination of vice and superstition which is\neminently prejudicial to the nobility, though not equally detrimental to\nthe happiness, of man. Public opinion was so low, that very many forms of\nvice attracted little condemnation and punishment, while undoubted belief\nin the absolving efficacy of superstitious rites calmed the imagination\nand allayed the terrors of conscience. There was more falsehood and\ntreachery than under the C\u00e6sars, but there was much less cruelty,\nviolence, and shamelessness. There was also less public spirit, less\nindependence of character, less intellectual freedom.\n\nIn some respects, however, Christianity had already effected a great\nimprovement. The gladiatorial games had disappeared from the West, and had\nnot been introduced into Constantinople. The vast schools of prostitution\nwhich had grown up under the name of temples of Venus were suppressed.\nReligion, however deformed and debased, was at least no longer a seedplot\nof depravity, and under the influence of Christianity the effrontery of\nvice had in a great measure disappeared. The gross and extravagant\nindecency of representation, of which we have still examples in the\npaintings on the walls, and the signs on many of the portals of Pompeii;\nthe banquets of rich patricians, served by naked girls; the hideous\nexcesses of unnatural lust, in which some of the Pagan emperors had\nindulged with so much publicity, were no longer tolerated. Although\nsensuality was very general, it was less obtrusive, and unnatural and\neccentric forms had become rare. The presence of a great Church, which,\namid much superstition and fanaticism, still taught a pure morality, and\nenforced it by the strongest motives, was everywhere felt\u2014controlling,\nstrengthening, or overawing. The ecclesiastics were a great body in the\nState. The cause of virtue was strongly organised; it drew to itself the\nbest men, determined the course of vacillating but amiable natures, and\nplaced some restraint upon the vicious. A bad man might be insensible to\nthe moral beauties of religion, but he was still haunted by the\nrecollection of its threatenings. If he emancipated himself from its\ninfluence in health and prosperity, its power returned in periods of\nsickness or danger, or on the eve of the commission of some great crime.\nIf he had nerved himself against all its terrors, he was at least checked\nand governed at every turn by the public opinion which it had created.\nThat total absence of all restraint, all decency, and all fear and\nremorse, which had been evinced by some of the monsters of crime who\noccupied the Pagan throne, and which proves most strikingly the decay of\nthe Pagan religion, was no longer possible. The virtue of the best Pagans\nwas perhaps of as high an order as that of the best Christians, though it\nwas of a somewhat different type, but the vice of the worst Pagans\ncertainly far exceeded that of the worst Christians. The pulpit had become\na powerful centre of attraction, and charities of many kinds were actively\ndeveloped.\n\nThe moral effects of the first great outburst of asceticism, so far as we\nhave yet traced them, appear almost unmingled evils. In addition to the\nessentially distorted ideal of perfection it produced, the simple\nwithdrawal from active life of that moral enthusiasm, which is the leaven\nof society, was extremely pernicious, and there can be little doubt that\nto this cause we must in a great degree attribute the conspicuous failure\nof the Church, for some centuries, to effect any more considerable\namelioration in the moral condition of Europe. There were, however, some\ndistinctive excellences springing even from the first phase of asceticism,\nwhich, although they do not, as I conceive, suffice to counterbalance\nthese evils, may justly qualify our censure.\n\nThe first condition of all really great moral excellence is a spirit of\ngenuine self-sacrifice and self-renunciation. The habits of compromise,\nmoderation, reciprocal self-restraint, gentleness, courtesy, and\nrefinement, which are appropriate to luxurious or utilitarian\ncivilisations, are very favourable to the development of many secondary\nvirtues; but there is in human nature a capacity for a higher and more\nheroic reach of excellence, which demands very different spheres for its\ndisplay, accustoms men to far nobler aims, and exercises a far greater\nattractive influence upon mankind. Imperfect and distorted as was the\nideal of the anchorite; deeply, too, as it was perverted by the admixture\nof a spiritual selfishness, still the example of many thousands, who, in\nobedience to what they believed to be right, voluntarily gave up\neverything that men hold dear, cast to the winds every compromise with\nenjoyment, and made extreme self-abnegation the very principle of their\nlives, was not wholly lost upon the world. At a time when increasing\nriches had profoundly tainted the Church, they taught men \u201cto love labour\nmore than rest, and ignominy more than glory, and to give more than to\nreceive.\u201d(340) At a time when the passion for ecclesiastical dignities had\nbecome the scandal of the Empire, they systematically abstained from them,\nteaching, in their quaint but energetic language, that \u201cthere are two\nclasses a monk should especially avoid\u2014bishops and women.\u201d(341) The very\neccentricities of their lives, their uncouth forms, their horrible\npenances, won the admiration of rude men, and the superstitious reverence\nthus excited gradually passed to the charity and the self-denial which\nformed the higher elements of the monastic character. Multitudes of\nbarbarians were converted to Christianity at the sight of St. Simeon\nStylites. The hermit, too, was speedily idealised by the popular\nimagination. The more repulsive features of his life and appearance were\nforgotten. He was thought of only as an old man with long white beard and\ngentle aspect, weaving his mats beneath the palm-trees, while d\u00e6mons\nvainly tried to distract him by their stratagems, and the wild beasts grew\ntame in his presence, and every disease and every sorrow vanished at his\nword. The imagination of Christendom, fascinated by this ideal, made it\nthe centre of countless legends, usually very childish, and occasionally,\nas we have seen, worse than childish, yet full of beautiful touches of\nhuman nature, and often conveying admirable moral lessons.(342) Nursery\ntales, which first determine the course of the infant imagination, play no\ninconsiderable part in the history of humanity. In the fable of\nPsyche\u2014that bright tale of passionate love with which the Greek mother\nlulled her child to rest\u2014Pagan antiquity has bequeathed us a single\nspecimen of transcendent beauty, and the lives of the saints of the desert\noften exhibit an imagination different indeed in kind, but scarcely less\nbrilliant in its display. St. Antony, we are told, was thinking one night\nthat he was the best man in the desert, when it was revealed to him that\nthere was another hermit far holier than himself. In the morning he\nstarted across the desert to visit this unknown saint. He met first of all\na centaur, and afterwards a little man with horns and goat\u2019s feet, who\nsaid that he was a faun; and these, having pointed out the way, he arrived\nat last at his destination. St. Paul the hermit, at whose cell he stopped,\nwas one hundred and thirteen years old, and, having been living for a very\nlong period in absolute solitude, he at first refused to admit the\nvisitor, but at last consented, embraced him, and began, with a very\npardonable curiosity, to question him minutely about the world he had\nleft; \u201cwhether there was much new building in the towns, what empire ruled\nthe world, whether there were any idolaters remaining?\u201d The colloquy was\ninterrupted by a crow, which came with a loaf of bread, and St. Paul,\nobserving that during the last sixty years his daily allowance had been\nonly half a loaf, declared that this was a proof that he had done right in\nadmitting Antony. The hermits returned thanks, and sat down together by\nthe margin of a glassy stream. But now a difficulty arose. Neither could\nbring himself to break the loaf before the other. St. Paul alleged that\nSt. Antony, being his guest, should take the precedence; but St. Antony,\nwho was only ninety years old, dwelt upon the greater age of St. Paul. So\nscrupulously polite were these old men, that they passed the entire\nafternoon disputing on this weighty question, till at last, when the\nevening was drawing in, a happy thought struck them, and, each holding one\nend of the loaf, they pulled together. To abridge the story, St. Paul soon\ndied, and his companion, being a weak old man, was unable to bury him,\nwhen two lions came from the desert and dug the grave with their paws,\ndeposited the body in it, raised a loud howl of lamentation, and then\nknelt down submissively before St. Antony, to beg a blessing. The\nauthority for this history is no less a person than St. Jerome, who\nrelates it as literally true, and intersperses his narrative with severe\nreflections on all who might question his accuracy.\n\nThe historian Palladius assures us that he heard from the lips of St.\nMacarius of Alexandria an account of a pilgrimage which that saint had\nmade, under the impulse of curiosity, to visit the enchanted garden of\nJannes and Jambres, tenanted by d\u00e6mons. For nine days Macarius traversed\nthe desert, directing his course by the stars, and, from time to time,\nfixing reeds in the ground, as landmarks for his return; but this\nprecaution proved useless, for the devils tore up the reeds, and placed\nthem during the night by the head of the sleeping saint. As he drew near\nthe garden, seventy d\u00e6mons of various forms came forth to meet him, and\nreproached him for disturbing them in their home. St. Macarius promised\nsimply to walk round and inspect the wonders of the garden, and then\ndepart without doing it any injury. He fulfilled his promise, and a\njourney of twenty days brought him again to his cell.(343) Other legends\nare, however, of a less fantastic nature; and many of them display, though\nsometimes in very whimsical forms, a spirit of courtesy which seems to\nforeshadow the later chivalry, and some of them contain striking protests\nagainst the very superstitions that were most prevalent. When St. Macarius\nwas sick, a bunch of grapes was once given to him; but his charity\nimpelled him to give them to another hermit, who in his turn refused to\nkeep them, and at last, having made the circuit of the entire desert, they\nwere returned to the saint.(344) The same saint, whose usual beverage was\nputrid water, never failed to drink wine when set before him by the\nhermits he visited, atoning privately for this relaxation, which he\nthought the laws of courtesy required, by abstaining from water for as\nmany days as he had drunk glasses of wine.(345) One of his disciples once\nmeeting an idolatrous priest running in great haste across the desert,\nwith a great stick in his hand, cried out in a loud voice, \u201cWhere are you\ngoing, d\u00e6mon?\u201d The priest, naturally indignant, beat the Christian\nseverely, and was proceeding on his way, when he met St. Macarius, who\naccosted him so courteously and so tenderly that the Pagan\u2019s heart was\ntouched, he became a convert, and his first act of charity was to tend the\nChristian whom he had beaten.(346) St. Avitus being on a visit to St.\nMarcian, this latter saint placed before him some bread, which Avitus\nrefused to eat, saying that it was his custom never to touch food till\nafter sunset. St. Marcian, professing his own inability to defer his\nrepast, implored his guest for once to break this custom, and being\nrefused, exclaimed, \u201cAlas! I am filled with anguish that you have come\nhere to see a wise man and a saint, and you see only a glutton.\u201d St.\nAvitus was grieved, and said, \u201che would rather even eat flesh than hear\nsuch words,\u201d and he sat down as desired. St. Marcian then confessed that\nhis own custom was the same as that of his brother saint; \u201cbut,\u201d he added,\n\u201cwe know that charity is better than fasting; for charity is enjoined by\nthe Divine law, but fasting is left in our own power and will.\u201d(347) St.\nEpiphanius having invited St. Hilarius to his cell, placed before him a\ndish of fowl. \u201cPardon me, father,\u201d said St. Hilarius, \u201cbut since I have\nbecome a monk I have never eaten flesh.\u201d \u201cAnd I,\u201d said St. Epiphanius,\n\u201csince I have become a monk have never suffered the sun to go down upon my\nwrath.\u201d \u201cYour rule,\u201d rejoined the other, \u201cis more excellent than\nmine.\u201d(348) While a rich lady was courteously fulfilling the duties of\nhospitality to a monk, her child, whom she had for this purpose left, fell\ninto a well. It lay unharmed upon the surface of the water, and afterwards\ntold its mother that it had seen the arms of the saint sustaining it\nbelow.(349) At a time when it was the custom to look upon the marriage\nstate with profound contempt, it was revealed to St. Macarius of Egypt\nthat two married women in a neighbouring city were more holy than he was.\nThe saint immediately visited them, and asked their mode of life, but they\nutterly repudiated the notion of their sanctity. \u201cHoly father,\u201d they said,\n\u201csuffer us to tell you frankly the truth. Even this very night we did not\nshrink from sleeping with our husbands, and what good works, then, can you\nexpect from us?\u201d The saint, however, persisted in his inquiries, and they\nthen told him their stories. \u201cWe are,\u201d they said, \u201cin no way related, but\nwe married two brothers. We have lived together for fifteen years, without\none licentious or angry word. We have entreated our husbands to let us\nleave them, to join the societies of holy virgins, but they refused to\npermit us, and we then promised before Heaven that no worldly word should\nsully our lips.\u201d \u201cOf a truth,\u201d cried St. Macarius, \u201cI see that God regards\nnot whether one is virgin or married, whether one is in a monastery or in\nthe world. He considers only the disposition of the heart, and gives the\nSpirit to all who desire to serve Him, whatever their condition may\nbe.\u201d(350)\n\nI have multiplied these illustrations to an extent that must, I fear, have\nalready somewhat taxed the patience of my readers; but the fact that,\nduring a long period of history, these saintly legends formed the ideals\nguiding the imagination and reflecting the moral sentiment of the\nChristian world, gives them an importance far beyond their intrinsic\nvalue. Before dismissing the saints of the desert, there is one other\nclass of legends to which I desire to advert. I mean those which describe\nthe connection between saints and the animal world. These legends are, I\nthink, worthy of special notice in moral history, as representing the\nfirst, and at the same time one of the most striking efforts ever made in\nChristendom to inculcate a feeling of kindness and pity towards the brute\ncreation. In Pagan antiquity, considerable steps had been made to raise\nthis form of humanity to a recognised branch of ethics. The way had been\nprepared by numerous anecdotes growing for the most part out of simple\nignorance of natural history, which all tended to diminish the chasm\nbetween men and animals, by representing the latter as possessing to a\nvery high degree both moral and rational qualities. Elephants, it was\nbelieved, were endowed not only with reason and benevolence, but also with\nreverential feelings. They worshipped the sun and moon, and in the forests\nof Mauritania they were accustomed to assemble every new moon, at a\ncertain river, to perform religious rites.(351) The hippopotamus taught\nmen the medicinal value of bleeding, being accustomed, when affected by\nplethory, to bleed itself with a thorn, and afterwards close the wound\nwith slime.(352) Pelicans committed suicide to feed their young; and bees,\nwhen they had broken the laws of their sovereign.(353) A temple was\nerected at Sestos to commemorate the affection of an eagle which loved a\nyoung girl, and upon her death cast itself in despair into the flames by\nwhich her body was consumed.(354) Numerous anecdotes are related of\nfaithful dogs which refused to survive their masters, and one of these\nhad, it was said, been transformed into the dog-star.(355) The dolphin,\nespecially, became the subject of many beautiful legends, and its\naffection for its young, for music, and above all for little children,\nexcited the admiration not only of the populace, but of the most\ndistinguished naturalists.(356) Many philosophers ascribed to animals a\nrational soul, like that of man. According to the Pythagoreans, human\nsouls transmigrate after death into animals. According to the Stoics and\nothers, the souls of men and animals were alike parts of the all-pervading\nDivine Spirit that animates the world.(357)\n\nWe may even find traces from an early period of a certain measure of\nlegislative protection for animals. By a very natural process, the ox, as\na principal agent in agriculture, and therefore a kind of symbol of\ncivilisation, was in many different countries regarded with a peculiar\nreverence. The sanctity attached to it in Egypt is well known. That\ntenderness to animals, which is one of the most beautiful features in the\nOld Testament writings, shows itself, among other ways, in the command not\nto muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn, or to yoke together the ox\nand the ass.(358) Among the early Romans the same feeling was carried so\nfar, that for a long time it was actually a capital offence to slaughter\nan ox, that animal being pronounced, in a special sense, the\nfellow-labourer of man.(359) A similar law is said to have in early times\nexisted in Greece.(360) The beautiful passage in which the Psalmist\ndescribes how the sparrow could find a shelter and a home in the altar of\nthe temple, was as applicable to Greece as to Jerusalem. The sentiment of\nXenocrates who, when a bird pursued by a hawk took refuge in his breast,\ncaressed and finally released it, saying to his disciples, that a good man\nshould never give up a suppliant,(361) was believed to be shared by the\ngods, and it was regarded as an act of impiety to disturb the birds who\nhad built their nests beneath the porticoes of the temple.(362) A case is\nrelated of a child who was even put to death on account of an act of\naggravated cruelty to birds.(363)\n\nThe general tendency of nations, as they advance from a rude and warlike\nto a refined and peaceful condition, from the stage in which the realising\npowers are faint and dull, to that in which they are sensitive and vivid,\nis undoubtedly to become more gentle and humane in their actions; but\nthis, like all other general tendencies in history, may be counteracted or\nmodified by many special circumstances. The law I have mentioned about\noxen was obviously one of those that belong to a very early stage of\nprogress, when legislators are labouring to form agricultural habits among\na warlike and nomadic people.(364) The games in which the slaughter of\nanimals bore so large a part, having been introduced but a little before\nthe extinction of the republic, did very much to arrest or retard the\nnatural progress of humane sentiments. In ancient Greece, besides the\nbull-fights of Thessaly, the combats of quails and cocks(365) were\nfavourite amusements, and were much encouraged by the legislators, as\nfurnishing examples of valour to the soldiers. The colossal dimensions of\nthe Roman games, the circumstances that favoured them, and the\noverwhelming interest they speedily excited, I have described in a former\nchapter. We have seen, however, that, notwithstanding the gladiatorial\nshows, the standard of humanity towards men was considerably raised during\nthe Empire. It is also well worthy of notice that, notwithstanding the\npassion for the combats of wild beasts, Roman literature and the later\nliterature of the nations subject to Rome abound in delicate touches\ndisplaying in a very high degree a sensitiveness to the feelings of the\nanimal world. This tender interest in animal life is one of the most\ndistinctive features of the poetry of Virgil. Lucretius, who rarely struck\nthe chords of pathos, had at a still earlier period drawn a very beautiful\npicture of the sorrows of the bereaved cow, whose calf had been sacrificed\nupon the altar.(366) Plutarch mentions, incidentally, that he could never\nbring himself to sell, in its old age, the ox which had served him\nfaithfully in the time of its strength.(367) Ovid expressed a similar\nsentiment with an almost equal emphasis.(368) Juvenal speaks of a Roman\nlady with her eyes filled with tears on account of the death of a\nsparrow.(369) Apollonius of Tyana, on the ground of humanity, refused,\neven when invited by a king, to participate in the chase.(370) Arrian, the\nfriend of Epictetus, in his book upon coursing, anticipated the beautiful\npicture which Addison has drawn of the huntsman refusing to sacrifice the\nlife of the captured hare which had given him so much pleasure in its\nflight.(371)\n\nThese touches of feeling, slight as they may appear, indicate, I think, a\nvein of sentiment such as we should scarcely have expected to find\ncoexisting with the gigantic slaughter of the amphitheatre. The progress,\nhowever, was not only one of sentiment\u2014it was also shown in distinct and\ndefinite teaching. Pythagoras and Empedocles were quoted as the founders\nof this branch of ethics. The moral duty of kindness to animals was in the\nfirst instance based upon a dogmatic assertion of the transmigration of\nsouls, and, the doctrine that animals are within the circle of human duty\nbeing thus laid down, subsidiary considerations of humanity were alleged.\nThe rapid growth of the Pythagorean school, in the latter days of the\nEmpire, made these considerations familiar to the people.(372) Porphyry\nelaborately advocated, and even Seneca for a time practised, abstinence\nfrom flesh. But the most remarkable figure in this movement is\nunquestionably Plutarch. Casting aside the dogma of transmigration, or at\nleast speaking of it only as a doubtful conjecture, he places the duty of\nkindness to animals on the broad ground of the affections, and he urges\nthat duty with an emphasis and a detail to which no adequate parallel can,\nI believe, be found in the Christian writings for at least seventeen\nhundred years. He condemns absolutely the games of the amphitheatre,\ndwells with great force upon the effect of such spectacles in hardening\nthe character, enumerates in detail, and denounces with unqualified\nenergy, the refined cruelties which gastronomic fancies had produced, and\nasserts in the strongest language that every man has duties to the animal\nworld as truly as to his fellow-men.(373)\n\nIf we now pass to the Christian Church, we shall find that little or no\nprogress was at first made in this sphere. Among the Manicheans, it is\ntrue, the mixture of Oriental notions was shown in an absolute prohibition\nof animal food, and abstinence from this food was also frequently\npractised upon totally different grounds by the orthodox. One or two of\nthe Fathers have also mentioned with approbation the humane counsels of\nthe Pythagoreans.(374) But, on the other hand, the doctrine of\ntransmigration was emphatically repudiated by the Catholics; the human\nrace was isolated, by the scheme of redemption, more than ever from all\nother races; and in the range and circle of duties inculcated by the early\nFathers those to animals had no place. This is indeed the one form of\nhumanity which appears more prominently in the Old Testament than in the\nNew. The many beautiful traces of it in the former, which indicate a\nsentiment,(375) even where they do not very strictly define a duty, gave\nway before an ardent philanthropy which regarded human interests as the\none end, and the relations of man to his Creator as the one question, of\nlife, and dismissed somewhat contemptuously, as an idle sentimentalism,\nnotions of duty to animals.(376) A refined and subtle sympathy with animal\nfeeling is indeed rarely found among those who are engaged very actively\nin the affairs of life, and it was not without a meaning or a reason that\nShakespeare placed that exquisitely pathetic analysis of the sufferings of\nthe wounded stag, which is perhaps its most perfect poetical expression,\nin the midst of the morbid dreamings of the diseased and melancholy\nJacques.\n\nBut while what are called the rights of animals had no place in the ethics\nof the Church, a feeling of sympathy with the irrational creation was in\nsome degree inculcated indirectly by the incidents of the hagiology. It\nwas very natural that the hermit, living in the lonely deserts of the\nEast, or in the vast forests of Europe, should come into an intimate\nconnection with the animal world, and it was no less natural that the\npopular imagination, when depicting the hermit life, should make this\nconnection the centre of many picturesque and sometimes touching legends.\nThe birds, it was said, stooped in their flight at the old man\u2019s call; the\nlion and the hyena crouched submissively at his feet; his heart, which was\nclosed to all human interests, expanded freely at the sight of some\nsuffering animal; and something of his own sanctity descended to the\ncompanions of his solitude and the objects of his miracles. The wild\nbeasts attended St. Theon when he walked abroad, and the saint rewarded\nthem by giving them drink out of his well. An Egyptian hermit had made a\nbeautiful garden in the desert, and used to sit beneath the palm-trees\nwhile a lion ate fruit from his hand. When St. P\u0153men was shivering in a\nwinter night, a lion crouched beside him, and became his covering. Lions\nburied St. Paul the hermit and St. Mary of Egypt. They appear in the\nlegends of St. Jerome, St. Gerasimus, St. John the Silent, St. Simeon, and\nmany others. When an old and feeble monk, named Zosimas, was on his\njourney to C\u00e6sarea, with an ass which bore his possessions, a lion seized\nand devoured the ass, but, at the command of the saint, the lion itself\ncarried the burden to the city gates. St. Helenus called a wild ass from\nits herd to bear his burden through the wilderness. The same saint, as\nwell as St. Pachomius, crossed the Nile on the back of a crocodile, as St.\nScuthinus did the Irish Channel on a sea monster. Stags continually\naccompanied saints upon their journeys, bore their burdens, ploughed their\nfields, revealed their relics. The hunted stag was especially the theme of\nmany picturesque legends. A Pagan, named Branchion, was once pursuing an\nexhausted stag, when it took refuge in a cavern, whose threshold no\ninducement could persuade the hounds to cross. The astonished hunter\nentered, and found himself in presence of an old hermit, who at once\nprotected the fugitive and converted the pursuer. In the legends of St.\nEustachius and St. Hubert, Christ is represented as having assumed the\nform of a hunted stag, which turned upon its pursuer, with a crucifix\nglittering on its brow, and, addressing him with a human voice, converted\nhim to Christianity. In the full frenzy of a chase, hounds and stag\nstopped and knelt down together to venerate the relics of St. Fingar. On\nthe festival of St. Regulus, the wild stags assembled at the tomb of the\nsaint, as the ravens used to do at that of St. Apollinar of Ravenna. St.\nErasmus was the special protector of oxen, and they knelt down voluntarily\nbefore his shrine. St. Antony was the protector of hogs, who were usually\nintroduced into his pictures. St. Bridget kept pigs, and a wild boar came\nfrom the forest to subject itself to her rule. A horse foreshadowed by its\nlamentations the death of St. Columba. The three companions of St. Colman\nwere a cock, a mouse, and a fly. The cock announced the hour of devotion,\nthe mouse bit the ear of the drowsy saint till he got up, and if in the\ncourse of his studies he was afflicted by any wandering thoughts, or\ncalled away to other business, the fly alighted on the line where he had\nleft off, and kept the place. Legends, not without a certain whimsical\nbeauty, described the moral qualities existing in animals. A hermit was\naccustomed to share his supper with a wolf, which, one evening entering\nthe cell before the return of the master, stole a loaf of bread. Struck\nwith remorse, it was a week before it ventured again to visit the cell,\nand when it did so, its head hung down, and its whole demeanour manifested\nthe most profound contrition. The hermit \u201cstroked with a gentle hand its\nbowed down head,\u201d and gave it a double portion as a token of forgiveness.\nA lioness knelt down with lamentations before another saint, and then led\nhim to its cub, which was blind, but which received its sight at the\nprayer of the saint. Next day the lioness returned, bearing the skin of a\nwild beast as a mark of its gratitude. Nearly the same thing happened to\nSt. Macarius of Alexandria; a hyena knocked at his door, brought its\nyoung, which was blind, and which the saint restored to sight, and repaid\nthe obligation soon afterwards by bringing a fleece of wool. \u201cO hyena!\u201d\nsaid the saint, \u201chow did you obtain this fleece? you must have stolen and\neaten a sheep.\u201d Full of shame, the hyena hung its head down, but persisted\nin offering its gift, which, however, the holy man refused to receive till\nthe hyena \u201chad sworn\u201d to cease for the future to rob. The hyena bowed its\nhead in token of its acceptance of the oath, and St. Macarius afterwards\ngave the fleece to St. Melania. Other legends simply speak of the sympathy\nbetween saints and the irrational world. The birds came at the call of St.\nCuthbert, and a dead bird was resuscitated by his prayer. When St.\nAengussius, in felling wood, had cut his hand, the birds gathered round,\nand with loud cries lamented his misfortune. A little bird, struck down\nand mortally wounded by a hawk, fell at the feet of St. Kieranus, who shed\ntears as he looked upon its torn breast, and offered up a prayer, upon\nwhich the bird was instantly healed.(377)\n\nMany hundreds, I should perhaps hardly exaggerate were I to say many\nthousands, of legends of this kind exist in the lives of the saints.\nSuggested in the first instance by that desert life which was at once the\nearliest phase of monachism and one of the earliest sources of Christian\nmythology, strengthened by the symbolism which represented different\nvirtues and vices under the forms of animals, and by the reminiscences of\nthe rites and the superstitions of Paganism, the connection between men\nand animals became the keynote of an infinite variety of fantastic tales.\nIn our eyes they may appear extravagantly puerile, yet it will scarcely, I\nhope, be necessary to apologise for introducing them into what purports to\nbe a grave work, when it is remembered that for many centuries they were\nuniversally accepted by mankind, and were so interwoven with all local\ntraditions, and with all the associations of education, that they at once\ndetermined and reflected the inmost feelings of the heart. Their tendency\nto create a certain feeling of sympathy towards animals is manifest, and\nthis is probably the utmost the Catholic Church has done in that\ndirection.(378) A very few authentic instances may, indeed, be cited of\nsaints whose natural gentleness of disposition was displayed in kindness\nto the animal world. Of St. James of Venice\u2014an obscure saint of the\nthirteenth century\u2014it is told that he was accustomed to buy and release\nthe birds with which Italian boys used to play by attaching them to\nstrings, saying that \u201che pitied the little birds of the Lord,\u201d and that\nhis \u201ctender charity recoiled from all cruelty, even to the most diminutive\nof animals.\u201d(379) St. Francis of Assisi was a more conspicuous example of\nthe same spirit. \u201cIf I could only be presented to the emperor,\u201d he used to\nsay, \u201cI would pray him, for the love of God, and of me, to issue an edict\nprohibiting any one from catching or imprisoning my sisters the larks, and\nordering that all who have oxen or asses should at Christmas feed them\nparticularly well.\u201d A crowd of legends turning upon this theme were\nrelated of him. A wolf, near Gubbio, being adjured by him, promised to\nabstain from eating sheep, placed its paw in the hand of the saint to\nratify the promise, and was afterwards fed from house to house by the\ninhabitants of the city. A crowd of birds, on another occasion, came to\nhear the saint preach, as fish did to hear St. Antony of Padua. A falcon\nawoke him at his hour of prayer. A grasshopper encouraged him by her\nmelody to sing praises to God. The noisy swallows kept silence when he\nbegan to teach.(380)\n\nOn the whole, however, Catholicism has done very little to inculcate\nhumanity to animals. The fatal vice of theologians, who have always looked\nupon others solely through the medium of their own special dogmatic views,\nhas been an obstacle to all advance in this direction. The animal world,\nbeing altogether external to the scheme of redemption, was regarded as\nbeyond the range of duty, and the belief that we have any kind of\nobligation to its members has never been inculcated\u2014has never, I believe,\nbeen even admitted\u2014by Catholic theologians. In the popular legends, and in\nthe recorded traits of individual amiability, it is curious to observe how\nconstantly those who have sought to inculcate kindness to animals have\ndone so by endeavouring to associate them with something distinctively\nChristian. The legends I have noticed glorified them as the companions of\nthe saints. The stag was honoured as especially commissioned to reveal the\nrelics of saints, and as the deadly enemy of the serpent. In the feast of\nasses, that animal was led with veneration into the churches, and a rude\nhymn proclaimed its dignity, because it had borne Christ in His flight to\nEgypt, and in His entry into Jerusalem. St. Francis always treated lambs\nwith a peculiar tenderness, as being symbols of his Master. Luther grew\nsad and thoughtful at a hare hunt, for it seemed to him to represent the\npursuit of souls by the devil. Many popular legends exist, associating\nsome bird or animal with some incident in the evangelical narrative, and\nsecuring for them in consequence an unmolested life. But such influences\nhave never extended far. There are two distinct objects which may be\nconsidered by moralists in this sphere. They may regard the character of\nthe men, or they may regard the sufferings of the animals. The amount of\ncallousness or of conscious cruelty displayed or elicited by amusements or\npractices that inflict suffering on animals, bears no kind of proportion\nto the intensity of that suffering. Could we follow with adequate\nrealisation the pangs of the wounded birds that are struck down in our\nsports, or of the timid hare in the long course of its flight, we should\nprobably conclude that they were not really less than those caused by the\nSpanish bull-fight, or by the English pastimes of the last century. But\nthe excitement of the chase refracts the imagination, and owing to the\ndiminutive size of the victim, and the undemonstrative character of its\nsuffering, these sports do not exercise that prejudicial influence upon\ncharacter which they would exercise if the sufferings of the animals were\nvividly realised, and were at the same time accepted as an element of the\nenjoyment. The class of amusements of which the ancient combats of wild\nbeasts form the type, have no doubt nearly disappeared from Christendom,\nand it is possible that the softening power of Christian teaching may have\nhad some indirect influence in abolishing them; but a candid judgment will\nconfess that it has been very little. During the periods, and in the\ncountries, in which theological influence was supreme, they were\nunchallenged.(381) They disappeared(382) at last, because a luxurious and\nindustrial civilisation involved a refinement of manners; because a\nfastidious taste recoiled with a sensation of disgust from pleasures that\nan uncultivated taste would keenly relish; because the drama, at once\nreflecting and accelerating the change, gave a new form to popular\namusements, and because, in consequence of this revolution, the old\npastimes, being left to the dregs of society, became the occasions of\nscandalous disorders.(383) In Protestant countries the clergy have, on the\nwhole, sustained this movement. In Catholic countries it has been much\nmore faithfully represented by the school of Voltaire and Beccaria. A\njudicious moralist may, however, reasonably question whether amusements\nwhich derive their zest from a display of the natural ferocious instincts\nof animals, and which substitute death endured in the frenzy of combat for\ndeath in the remote slaughter-house or by the slow process of decay, have\nadded in any appreciable degree to the sum of animal misery, and in these\ncases he will dwell less upon the suffering inflicted than upon the\ninjurious influence the spectacle may sometimes exercise on the character\nof the spectator. But there are forms of cruelty which must be regarded in\na different light. The horrors of vivisection, often so wantonly, so\nneedlessly practised,(384) the prolonged and atrocious tortures, sometimes\ninflicted in order to procure some gastronomic delicacy, are so far\nremoved from the public gaze that they exercise little influence on the\ncharacter of men. Yet no humane man can reflect upon them without a\nshudder. To bring these things within the range of ethics, to create the\nnotion of duties towards the animal world, has, so far as Christian\ncountries are concerned, been one of the peculiar merits of the last\ncentury, and, for the most part, of Protestant nations. However fully we\nmay recognise the humane spirit transmitted to the world in the form of\nlegends from the saints of the desert, it must not be forgotten that the\ninculcation of humanity to animals on a wide scale is mainly the work of a\nrecent and a secular age; that the Mohammedans and the Brahmins have in\nthis sphere considerably surpassed the Christians, and that Spain and\nSouthern Italy, in which Catholicism has most deeply planted its roots,\nare even now, probably beyond all other countries in Europe, those in\nwhich inhumanity to animals is most wanton and most unrebuked.\n\nThe influence the first form of monachism has exercised upon the world, so\nfar as it has been beneficial, has been chiefly through the imagination,\nwhich has been fascinated by its legends. In the great periods of\ntheological controversy, the Eastern monks had furnished some leading\ntheologians; but in general, in Oriental lands, the hermit life\npredominated, and extreme maceration was the chief merit of the saint. But\nin the West, monachism assumed very different forms, and exercised far\nhigher functions. At first the Oriental saints were the ideals of Western\nmonks. The Eastern St. Athanasius had been the founder of Italian\nmonachism. St. Martin of Tours excluded labour from the discipline of his\nmonks, and he and they, like the Eastern saints, were accustomed to wander\nabroad, destroying the idols of the temples.(385) But three great causes\nconspired to direct the monastic spirit in the West into practical\nchannels. Conditions of race and climate have ever impelled the\ninhabitants of these lands to active life, and have at the same time\nrendered them constitutionally incapable of enduring the austerities or\nenjoying the hallucinations of the sedentary Oriental. There arose, too,\nin the sixth century, a great legislator, whose form may be dimly traced\nthrough a cloud of fantastic legends, and the order of St. Benedict, with\nthat of St. Columba and some others, founded on substantially the same\nprinciple, soon ramified through the greater part of Europe, tempered the\nwild excesses of useless penances, and, making labour an essential part of\nthe monastic system, directed the movement to the purposes of general\ncivilisation. In the last place, the barbarian invasions, and the\ndissolution of the Western Empire, dislocating the whole system of\ngovernment and almost resolving society into its primitive elements,\nnaturally threw upon the monastic corporations social, political, and\nintellectual functions of the deepest importance.\n\nIt has been observed that the capture of Rome by Alaric, involving as it\ndid the destruction of the grandest religious monuments of Paganism, in\nfact established in that city the supreme authority of Christianity.(386)\nA similar remark may be extended to the general downfall of the Western\ncivilisation. In that civilisation Christianity had indeed been legally\nenthroned; but the philosophies and traditions of Paganism, and the\ningrained habits of an ancient, and at the same time an effete society,\ncontinually paralysed its energies. What Europe would have been without\nthe barbarian invasions, we may partly divine from the history of the\nLower Empire, which represented, in fact, the old Roman civilisation\nprolonged and Christianised. The barbarian conquests, breaking up the old\norganisation, provided the Church with a virgin soil, and made it, for a\nlong period, the supreme and indeed sole centre of civilisation.\n\nIt would be difficult to exaggerate the skill and courage displayed by the\necclesiastics in this most trying period. We have already seen the noble\ndaring with which they interfered between the conqueror and the\nvanquished, and the unwearied charity with which they sought to alleviate\nthe unparalleled sufferings of Italy, when the colonial supplies of corn\nwere cut off, and when the fairest plains were desolated by the\nbarbarians. Still more wonderful is the rapid conversion of the barbarian\ntribes. Unfortunately this, which is one of the most important, is also\none of the most obscure pages in the history of the Church. Of whole\ntribes or nations it may be truly said that we are absolutely ignorant of\nthe cause of their change. The Goths had already been converted by\nUlphilas, before the downfall of the Empire, and the conversion of the\nGermans and of several northern nations was long posterior to it; but the\ngreat work of Christianising the barbarian world was accomplished almost\nin the hour when that world became supreme. Rude tribes, accustomed in\ntheir own lands to pay absolute obedience to their priests, found\nthemselves in a foreign country, confronted by a priesthood far more\ncivilised and imposing than that which they had left, by gorgeous\nceremonies, well fitted to entice, and by threats of coming judgment, well\nfitted to scare their imaginations. Disconnected from all their old\nassociations, they bowed before the majesty of civilisation, and the Latin\nreligion, like the Latin language, though with many adulterations, reigned\nover the new society. The doctrine of exclusive salvation, and the\ndoctrine of d\u00e6mons, had an admirable missionary power. The first produced\nan ardour of proselytising which the polytheist could never rival; while\nthe Pagan, who was easily led to recognise the Christian God, was menaced\nwith eternal fire if he did not take the further step of breaking off from\nhis old divinities. The second dispensed the convert from the perhaps\nimpossible task of disbelieving his former religion, for it was only\nnecessary for him to degrade it, attributing its prodigies to infernal\nbeings. The priests, in addition to their noble devotion, carried into\ntheir missionary efforts the most masterly judgment. The barbarian tribes\nusually followed without enquiry the religion of their sovereign; and it\nwas to the conversion of the king, and still more to the conversion of the\nqueen, that the Christians devoted all their energies. Clotilda, the wife\nof Clovis, Bertha, the wife of Ethelbert, and Theodolinda, the wife of\nLothaire, were the chief instruments in converting their husbands and\ntheir nations. Nothing that could affect the imagination was neglected. It\nis related of Clotilda, that she was careful to attract her husband by the\nrich draperies of the ecclesiastical ceremonies.(387) In another case, the\nfirst work of proselytising was confided to an artist, who painted before\nthe terrified Pagans the last judgment and the torments of hell.(388) But\nespecially the belief, which was sincerely held, and sedulously\ninculcated, that temporal success followed in the train of Christianity,\nand that every pestilence, famine, or military disaster was the penalty of\nidolatry, heresy, sacrilege, or vice, assisted the movement. The theory\nwas so wide, that it met every variety of fortune, and being taught with\nconsummate skill, to barbarians who were totally destitute of all critical\npower, and strongly predisposed to accept it, it proved extremely\nefficacious; and hope, fear, gratitude, and remorse drew multitudes into\nthe Church. The transition was softened by the substitution of Christian\nceremonies and saints for the festivals and the divinities of the\nPagans.(389) Besides the professed missionaries, the Christian captives\nzealously diffused their faith among their Pagan masters. When the\nchieftain had been converted, and the army had followed his profession, an\nelaborate monastic and ecclesiastical organisation grew up to consolidate\nthe conquest, and repressive laws soon crushed all opposition to the\nfaith.\n\nIn these ways the victory of Christianity over the barbarian world was\nachieved. But that victory, though very great, was less decisive than\nmight appear. A religion which professed to be Christianity, and which\ncontained many of the ingredients of pure Christianity, had risen into the\nascendant, but it had undergone a profound modification through the\nstruggle. Religions, as well as worshippers, had been baptised. The\nfestivals, images, and names of saints had been substituted for those of\nthe idols, and the habits of thought and feeling of the ancient faith\nreappeared in new forms and a new language. The tendency to a material,\nidolatrous, and polytheistic faith, which had long been encouraged by the\nmonks, and which the heretics Jovinian, Vigilantius, and Aerius had vainly\nresisted, was fatally strengthened by the infusion of a barbarian element\ninto the Church, by the general depression of intellect in Europe, and by\nthe many accommodations that were made to facilitate conversion. Though\napparently defeated and crushed, the old gods still retained, under a new\nfaith, no small part of their influence over the world.\n\nTo this tendency the leaders of the Church made in general no resistance,\nthough in another form they were deeply persuaded of the vitality of the\nold gods. Many curious and picturesque legends attest the popular belief\nthat the old Roman and the old barbarian divinities, in their capacity of\nd\u00e6mons, were still waging an unrelenting war against the triumphant faith.\nA great Pope of the sixth century relates how a Jew, being once benighted\non his journey, and finding no other shelter for the night, lay down to\nrest in an abandoned temple of Apollo. Shuddering at the loneliness of the\nbuilding, and fearing the d\u00e6mons who were said to haunt it, he determined,\nthough not a Christian, to protect himself by the sign of the cross, which\nhe had often heard possessed a mighty power against spirits. To that sign\nhe owed his safety. For at midnight the temple was filled with dark and\nthreatening forms. The god Apollo was holding his court at his deserted\nshrine, and his attendant d\u00e6mons were recounting the temptations they had\ndevised against the Christians.(390) A newly married Roman, when one day\nplaying ball, took off his wedding-ring, which he found an impediment in\nthe game, and he gaily put it on the finger of a statue of Venus, that was\nstanding near. When he returned, the marble finger had bent so that it was\nimpossible to withdraw the ring, and that night the goddess appeared to\nhim in a dream, and told him that she was now his wedded wife, and that\nshe would abide with him for ever.(391) When the Irish missionary St. Gall\nwas fishing one night upon a Swiss lake, near which he had planted a\nmonastery, he heard strange voices sweeping over the lonely deep. The\nSpirit of the Water and the Spirit of the Mountains were consulting\ntogether how they could expel the intruder who had disturbed their ancient\nreign.(392)\n\nThe details of the rapid propagation of Western monachism have been amply\ntreated by many historians, and the causes of its success are sufficiently\nmanifest. Some of the reasons I have assigned for the first spread of\nasceticism continued to operate, while others of a still more powerful\nkind had arisen. The rapid decomposition of the entire Roman Empire by\ncontinuous invasions of barbarians rendered the existence of an inviolable\nasylum and centre of peaceful labour a matter of transcendent importance,\nand the monastery as organised by St. Benedict soon combined the most\nheterogeneous elements of attraction. It was at once eminently\naristocratic and intensely democratic. The power and princely position of\nthe abbot were coveted, and usually obtained, by members of the most\nillustrious families; while emancipated serfs, or peasants who had lost\ntheir all in the invasions, or were harassed by savage nobles, or had fled\nfrom military service, or desired to lead a more secure and easy life,\nfound in the monastery an unfailing refuge. The institution exercised all\nthe influence of great wealth, expended for the most part with great\ncharity, while the monk himself was invested with the aureole of a sacred\npoverty. To ardent and philanthropic natures, the profession opened\nboundless vistas of missionary, charitable, and civilising activity. To\nthe superstitious it was the plain road to heaven. To the ambitious it was\nthe portal to bishoprics, and, after the monk St. Gregory, not\nunfrequently to the Popedom. To the studious it offered the only\nopportunity then existing in the world of seeing many books and passing a\nlife of study. To the timid and retiring it afforded the most secure, and\nprobably the least laborious life a poor peasant could hope to find. Vast\nas were the multitudes that thronged the monasteries, the means for their\nsupport were never wanting. The belief that gifts or legacies to a\nmonastery opened the doors of heaven was in a superstitious age sufficient\nto secure for the community an almost boundless wealth, which was still\nfurther increased by the skill and perseverance with which the monks\ntilled the waste lands, by the exemption of their domains from all\ntaxation, and by the tranquillity which in the most turbulent ages they\nusually enjoyed. In France, the Low Countries, and Germany they were\npre-eminently agriculturists. Gigantic forests were felled, inhospitable\nmarshes reclaimed, barren plains cultivated by their hands. The monastery\noften became the nucleus of a city. It was the centre of civilisation and\nindustry, the symbol of moral power in an age of turbulence and war.\n\nIt must be observed, however, that the beneficial influence of the\nmonastic system was necessarily transitional, and the subsequent\ncorruption the normal and inevitable result of its constitution. Vast\nsocieties living in enforced celibacy, exercising an unbounded influence,\nand possessing enormous wealth, must necessarily have become hotbeds of\ncorruption when the enthusiasm that had created them expired. The services\nthey rendered as the centres of agriculture, the refuge of travellers, the\nsanctuaries in war, the counterpoise of the baronial castle, were no\nlonger required when the convulsions of invasion had ceased and when civil\nsociety was definitely organised. And a similar observation may be\nextended even to their moral type. Thus, while it is undoubtedly true that\nthe Benedictine monks, by making labour an essential element of their\ndiscipline, did very much to efface the stigma which slavery had affixed\nupon it, it is also true that, when industry had passed out of its initial\nstage, the monastic theories of the sanctity of poverty, and the evil of\nwealth, were its most deadly opponents. The dogmatic condemnation by\ntheologians of loans at interest, which are the basis of industrial\nenterprise, was the expression of a far deeper antagonism of tendencies\nand ideals.\n\nIn one important respect, the transition from the eremite to the monastic\nlife involved not only a change of circumstances, but also a change of\ncharacter. The habit of obedience, and the virtue of humility, assumed a\nposition which they had never previously occupied. The conditions of the\nhermit life contributed to develop to a very high degree a spirit of\nindependence and spiritual pride, which was still further increased by a\ncurious habit that existed in the Church of regarding each eminent hermit\nas the special model or professor of some particular virtue, and making\npilgrimages to him, in order to study this aspect of his character.(393)\nThese pilgrimages, combined with the usually solitary and self-sufficing\nlife of the hermit, and also with the habit of measuring progress almost\nentirely by the suppression of a physical appetite, which it is quite\npossible wholly to destroy, very naturally produced an extreme\narrogance.(394) But in the highly organised and disciplined monasteries of\nthe West, passive obedience and humility were the very first things that\nwere inculcated. The monastery, beyond all other institutions, was the\nschool for their exercise; and as the monk represented the highest moral\nideal of the age, obedience and humility acquired a new value in the minds\nof men. Nearly all the feudal and other organisations that arose out of\nthe chaos that followed the destruction of the Roman Empire were\nintimately related to the Church, not simply because the Church was the\nstrongest power in Christendom, and supplied in itself an admirable model\nof an organised body, but also because it had done much to educate men in\nhabits of obedience. The special value of this education depended upon the\npeculiar circumstances of the time. The ancient civilisations, and\nespecially that of Rome, had been by no means deficient in those habits;\nbut it was in the midst of the dissolution of an old society, and of the\nascendancy of barbarians, who exaggerated to the highest degree their\npersonal independence, that the Church proposed to the reverence of\nmankind a life of passive obedience as the highest ideal of virtue.\n\nThe habit of obedience was no new thing in the world, but the disposition\nof humility was pre-eminently and almost exclusively a Christian virtue;\nand there has probably never been any sphere in which it has been so\nlargely and so successfully inculcated as in the monastery. The whole\npenitential discipline, the entire mode or tenor of the monastic life, was\ndesigned to tame every sentiment of pride, and to give humility a foremost\nplace in the hierarchy of virtues. We have here one great source of the\nmollifying influence of Catholicism. The gentler virtues\u2014benevolence and\namiability\u2014may, and in an advanced civilisation often do, subsist in\nnatures that are completely devoid of genuine humility; but, on the other\nhand, it is scarcely possible for a nature to be pervaded by a deep\nsentiment of humility without this sentiment exercising a softening\ninfluence over the whole character. To transform a fierce warlike nature\ninto a character of a gentler type, the first essential is to awaken this\nfeeling. In the monasteries, the extinction of social and domestic\nfeelings, the narrow corporate spirit, and, still more, the atrocious\nopinions that were prevalent concerning the guilt of heresy, produced in\nmany minds an extreme and most active ferocity; but the practice of\ncharity, and the ideal of humility, never failed to exercise some\nsoftening influence upon Christendom.\n\nBut, however advantageous the temporary pre-eminence of this moral type\nmay have been, it was obviously unsuited for a later stage of\ncivilisation. Political liberty is almost impossible where the monastic\nsystem is supreme, not merely because the monasteries divert the energies\nof the nation from civic to ecclesiastical channels, but also because the\nmonastic ideal is the very apotheosis of servitude. Catholicism has been\nadmirably fitted at once to mitigate and to perpetuate despotism. When men\nhave learnt to reverence a life of passive, unreasoning obedience as the\nhighest type of perfection, the enthusiasm and passion of freedom\nnecessarily decline. In this respect there is an analogy between the\nmonastic and the military spirit, both of which promote and glorify\npassive obedience, and therefore prepare the minds of men for despotic\nrule; but, on the whole, the monastic spirit is probably more hostile to\nfreedom than the military spirit, for the obedience of the monk is based\nupon humility, while the obedience of the soldier coexists with pride.\nNow, a considerable measure of pride, or self-assertion, is an invariable\ncharacteristic of free communities.\n\nThe ascendancy which the monastic system gave to the virtue of humility\nhas not continued. This virtue is indeed the crowning grace and beauty of\nthe most perfect characters of the saintly type; but experience has shown\nthat among common men humility is more apt to degenerate into servility\nthan pride into arrogance; and modern moralists have appealed more\nsuccessfully to the sense of dignity than to the opposite feeling. Two of\nthe most important steps of later moral history have consisted of the\ncreation of a sentiment of pride as the parent and the guardian of many\nvirtues. The first of these encroachments on the monastic spirit was\nchivalry, which called into being a proud and jealous military honour that\nhas never since been extinguished. The second was the creation of that\nfeeling of self-respect which is one of the most remarkable\ncharacteristics that distinguish Protestant from the most Catholic\npopulations, and which has proved among the former an invaluable moral\nagent, forming frank and independent natures, and checking every servile\nhabit and all mean and degrading vice.(395) The peculiar vigour with which\nit has been developed in Protestant countries may be attributed to the\nsuppression of monastic institutions and habits; to the stigma\nProtestantism has attached to mendicancy, which Catholicism has usually\nglorified and encouraged; to the high place Protestantism has accorded to\nprivate judgment and personal responsibility; and lastly, to the action of\nfree political institutions, which have taken deepest root where the\nprinciples of the Reformation have been accepted.\n\n                  \u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\n\nThe relation of the monasteries to the intellectual virtues, which we have\nnext to examine, opens out a wide field of discussion; and, in order to\nappreciate it, it will be necessary to revert briefly to a somewhat\nearlier stage of ecclesiastical history. And in the first place, it may be\nobserved, that the phrase intellectual virtue, which is often used in a\nmetaphorical sense, is susceptible of a strictly literal interpretation.\nIf a sincere and active desire for truth be a moral duty, the discipline\nand the dispositions that are plainly involved in every honest search fall\nrigidly within the range of ethics. To love truth sincerely means to\npursue it with an earnest, conscientious, unflagging zeal. It means to be\nprepared to follow the light of evidence even to the most unwelcome\nconclusions; to labour earnestly to emancipate the mind from early\nprejudices; to resist the current of the desires, and the refracting\ninfluence of the passions; to proportion on all occasions conviction to\nevidence, and to be ready, if need be, to exchange the calm of assurance\nfor all the suffering of a perplexed and disturbed mind. To do this is\nvery difficult and very painful; but it is clearly involved in the notion\nof earnest love of truth. If, then, any system stigmatises as criminal the\nstate of doubt, denounces the examination of some one class of arguments\nor facts, seeks to introduce the bias of the affections into the enquiries\nof the reason, or regards the honest conclusion of an upright investigator\nas involving moral guilt, that system is subversive of intellectual\nhonesty.\n\nAmong the ancients, although the methods of enquiry were often very\nfaulty, and generalisations very hasty, a respect for the honest search\nafter truth was widely diffused.(396) There were, as we have already seen,\ninstances in which certain religious practices which were regarded as\nattestations of loyalty, or as necessary to propitiate the gods in favour\nof the State, were enforced by law; there were even a few instances of\nphilosophies, which were believed to lead directly to immoral results or\nsocial convulsions, being suppressed; but, as a general rule, speculation\nwas untrammelled, the notion of there being any necessary guilt in\nerroneous opinion was unknown, and the boldest enquirers were regarded\nwith honour and admiration. The religious theory of Paganism had in this\nrespect some influence. Polytheism, with many faults, had three great\nmerits. It was eminently poetical, eminently patriotic, and eminently\ntolerant. The conception of a vast hierarchy of beings more glorious than,\nbut not wholly unlike, men, presiding over all the developments of nature,\nand filling the universe with their deeds, supplied the chief nutriment of\nthe Greek imagination. The national religions, interweaving religious\nceremonies and associations with all civic life, concentrated and\nintensified the sentiment of patriotism, and the notion of many distinct\ngroups of gods led men to tolerate many forms of worship and great variety\nof creeds. In that colossal amalgam of nations of which Rome became the\nmetropolis, intellectual liberty still further advanced; the vast variety\nof philosophies and beliefs expatiated unmolested; the search for truth\nwas regarded as an important element of virtue, and the relentless and\nmost sceptical criticism which Socrates had applied in turn to all the\nfundamental propositions of popular belief remained as an example to his\nsuccessors.\n\nWe have already seen that one leading cause of the rapid progress of the\nChurch was that its teachers enforced their distinctive tenets as\nabsolutely essential to salvation, and thus assailed at a great advantage\nthe supporters of all other creeds which did not claim this exclusive\nauthority. We have seen, too, that in an age of great and growing\ncredulity they had been conspicuous for their assertion of the duty of\nabsolute, unqualified, and unquestioning belief. The notion of the guilt\nboth of error and of doubt grew rapidly, and, being soon regarded as a\nfundamental tenet, it determined the whole course and policy of the\nChurch.\n\nAnd here, I think, it will not be unadvisable to pause for a moment, and\nendeavour to ascertain what misconceived truth lay at the root of this\nfatal tenet. Considered abstractedly and by the light of nature, it is as\nunmeaning to speak of the immorality of an intellectual mistake as it\nwould be to talk of the colour of a sound. If a man has sincerely\npersuaded himself that it is possible for parallel lines to meet, or for\ntwo straight lines to enclose a space, we pronounce his judgment to be\nabsurd; but it is free from all tincture of immorality. And if, instead of\nfailing to appreciate a demonstrable truth, his error consisted in a false\nestimate of the conflicting arguments of an historical problem, this\nmistake\u2014assuming always that the enquiry was an upright one\u2014is still\nsimply external to the sphere of morals. It is possible that his\nconclusion, by weakening some barrier against vice, may produce vicious\nconsequences, like those which might ensue from some ill-advised\nmodification of the police force; but it in no degree follows from this\nthat the judgment is in itself criminal. If a student applies himself with\nthe same dispositions to Roman and Jewish histories, the mistakes he may\nmake in the latter are no more immoral than those which he may make in the\nformer.\n\nThere are, however, two cases in which an intellectual error may be justly\nsaid to involve, or at least to represent, guilt. In the first place,\nerror very frequently springs from the partial or complete absence of that\nmental disposition which is implied in a real love of truth. Hypocrites,\nor men who through interested motives profess opinions which they do not\nreally believe, are probably rarer than is usually supposed; but it would\nbe difficult to over-estimate the number of those whose genuine\nconvictions are due to the unresisted bias of their interests. By the term\ninterests, I mean not only material well-being, but also all those mental\nluxuries, all those grooves or channels for thought, which it is easy and\npleasing to follow, and painful and difficult to abandon. Such are the\nlove of ease, the love of certainty, the love of system, the bias of the\npassions, the associations of the imagination, as well as the coarser\ninfluences of social position, domestic happiness, professional interest,\nparty feeling, or ambition. In most men, the love of truth is so languid,\nand the reluctance to encounter mental suffering is so great, that they\nyield their judgments without an effort to the current, withdraw their\nminds from all opinions or arguments opposed to their own, and thus\nspeedily convince themselves of the truth of what they wish to believe. He\nwho really loves truth is bound at least to endeavour to resist these\ndistorting influences, and in as far as his opinions are the result of his\nnot having done so, in so far they represent a moral failing.\n\nIn the next place, it must be observed that every moral disposition brings\nwith it an intellectual bias which exercises a great and often a\ncontrolling and decisive influence even upon the most earnest enquirer. If\nwe know the character or disposition of a man, we can usually predict with\ntolerable accuracy many of his opinions. We can tell to what side of\npolitics, to what canons of taste, to what theory of morals he will\nnaturally incline. Stern, heroic, and haughty natures tend to systems in\nwhich these qualities occupy the foremost position in the moral type,\nwhile gentle natures will as naturally lean towards systems in which the\namiable virtues are supreme. Impelled by a species of moral gravitation,\nthe enquirer will glide insensibly to the system which is congruous to his\ndisposition, and intellectual difficulties will seldom arrest him. He can\nhave observed human nature with but little fruit who has not remarked how\nconstant is this connection, and how very rarely men change fundamentally\nthe principles they had deliberately adopted on religious, moral, or even\npolitical questions, without the change being preceded, accompanied, or\nvery speedily followed, by a serious modification of character. So, too, a\nvicious and depraved nature, or a nature which is hard, narrow, and\nunsympathetic, will tend, much less by calculation or indolence than by\nnatural affinity, to low and degrading views of human nature. Those who\nhave never felt the higher emotions will scarcely appreciate them. The\nmaterials with which the intellect builds are often derived from the\nheart, and a moral disease is therefore not unfrequently at the root of an\nerroneous judgment.\n\nOf these two truths the first cannot, I think, be said to have had any\ninfluence in the formation of the theological notion of the guilt of\nerror. An elaborate process of mental discipline, with a view to\nstrengthening the critical powers of the mind, is utterly remote from the\nspirit of theology; and this is one of the great reasons why the growth of\nan inductive and scientific spirit is invariably hostile to theological\ninterests. To raise the requisite standard of proof, to inculcate hardness\nand slowness of belief, is the first task of the inductive reasoner. He\nlooks with great favour upon the condition of a suspended judgment; he\nencourages men rather to prolong than to abridge it; he regards the\ntendency of the human mind to rapid and premature generalisations as one\nof its most fatal vices; he desires especially that that which is believed\nshould not be so cherished that the mind should be indisposed to admit\ndoubt, or, on the appearance of new arguments, to revise with impartiality\nits conclusions. Nearly all the greatest intellectual achievements of the\nlast three centuries have been preceded and prepared by the growth of\nscepticism. The historic scepticism which Vico, Beaufort, Pouilly, and\nVoltaire in the last century, and Niebuhr and Lewis in the present\ncentury, applied to ancient history, lies at the root of all the great\nmodern efforts to reconstruct the history of mankind. The splendid\ndiscoveries of physical science would have been impossible but for the\nscientific scepticism of the school of Bacon, which dissipated the old\ntheories of the universe, and led men to demand a severity of proof\naltogether unknown to the ancients. The philosophic scepticism with which\nthe system of Hume ended and the system of Kant began, has given the\ngreatest modern impulse to metaphysics and ethics. Exactly in proportion,\ntherefore, as men are educated in the inductive school, they are alienated\nfrom those theological systems which represent a condition of doubt as\nsinful, seek to govern the reason by the interests and the affections, and\nmake it a main object to destroy the impartiality of the judgment.\n\nBut although it is difficult to look upon Catholicism in any other light\nthan as the most deadly enemy of the scientific spirit, it has always\ncordially recognised the most important truth, that character in a very\ngreat measure determines opinions. To cultivate the moral type that is\nmost congenial to the opinions it desires to recommend has always been its\neffort, and the conviction that a deviation from that type has often been\nthe predisposing cause of intellectual heresy, had doubtless a large share\nin the first persuasion of the guilt of error. But priestly and other\ninfluences soon conspired to enlarge this doctrine. A crowd of\nspeculative, historical, and administrative propositions were asserted as\nessential to salvation, and all who rejected them were wholly external to\nthe bond of Christian sympathy.\n\nIf, indeed, we put aside the pure teaching of the Christian founders, and\nconsider the actual history of the Church since Constantine, we shall find\nno justification for the popular theory that beneath its influence the\nnarrow spirit of patriotism faded into a wide and cosmopolitan\nphilanthropy. A real though somewhat languid feeling of universal\nbrotherhood had already been created in the world by the universality of\nthe Roman Empire. In the new faith the range of genuine sympathy was\nstrictly limited by the creed. According to the popular belief, all who\ndiffered from the teaching of the orthodox lived under the hatred of the\nAlmighty, and were destined after death for an eternity of anguish. Very\nnaturally, therefore, they were wholly alienated from the true believers,\nand no moral or intellectual excellence could atone for their crime in\npropagating error. The eighty or ninety sects,(397) into which\nChristianity speedily divided, hated one another with an intensity that\nextorted the wonder of Julian and the ridicule of the Pagans of\nAlexandria, and the fierce riots and persecutions that hatred produced\nappear in every page of ecclesiastical history. There is, indeed,\nsomething at once grotesque and ghastly in the spectacle. The Donatists,\nhaving separated from the orthodox simply on the question of the validity\nof the consecration of a certain bishop, declared that all who adopted the\northodox view must be damned, refused to perform their rites in the\northodox churches which they had seized, till they had burnt the altar and\nscraped the wood, beat multitudes to death with clubs, blinded others by\nanointing their eyes with lime, filled Africa, during nearly two\ncenturies, with war and desolation, and contributed largely to its final\nruin.(398) The childish and almost unintelligible quarrels between the\nHomoiousians and the Homoousians, between those who maintained that the\nnature of Christ was like that of the Father and those who maintained that\nit was the same, filled the world with riot and hatred. The Catholics tell\nhow an Arian Emperor caused eighty orthodox priests to be drowned on a\nsingle occasion;(399) how three thousand persons perished in the riots\nthat convulsed Constantinople when the Arian Bishop Macedonius superseded\nthe Athanasian Paul;(400) how George of Cappadocia, the Arian Bishop of\nAlexandria, caused the widows of the Athanasian party to be scourged on\nthe soles of their feet, the holy virgins to be stripped naked, to be\nflogged with the prickly branches of palm-trees, or to be slowly scorched\nover fires till they abjured their creed.(401) The triumph of the\nCatholics in Egypt was accompanied (if we may believe the solemn\nassertions of eighty Arian Bishops) by every variety of plunder, murder,\nsacrilege, and outrage,(402) and Arius himself was probably poisoned by\nCatholic hands.(403) The followers of St. Cyril of Alexandria, who were\nchiefly monks, filled their city with riot and bloodshed, wounded the\nprefect Orestes, dragged the pure and gifted Hypatia into one of their\nchurches, murdered her, tore the flesh from her bones with sharp shells,\nand, having stripped her body naked, flung her mangled remains into the\nflames.(404) In Ephesus, during the contest between St. Cyril and the\nNestorians, the cathedral itself was the theatre of a fierce and bloody\nconflict.(405) Constantinople, on the occasion of the deposition of St.\nChrysostom, was for several days in a condition of absolute anarchy.(406)\nAfter the Council of Chalcedon, Jerusalem and Alexandria were again\nconvulsed, and the bishop of the latter city was murdered in his\nbaptistery.(407) About fifty years later, when the Monophysite controversy\nwas at its height, the palace of the emperor at Constantinople was\nblockaded, the churches were besieged, and the streets commanded by\nfurious bands of contending monks.(408) Repressed for a time, the riots\nbroke out two years after with an increased ferocity, and almost every\nleading city of the East was filled by the monks with bloodshed and with\noutrage.(409) St. Augustine himself is accused of having excited every\nkind of popular persecution against the Semi-Pelagians.(410) The Councils,\nanimated by an almost frantic hatred, urged on by their anathemas the\nrival sects.(411) In the \u201cRobber Council\u201d of Ephesus, Flavianus, the\nBishop of Constantinople, was kicked and beaten by the Bishop of\nAlexandria, or at least by his followers, and a few days later died from\nthe effect of the blows.(412) In the contested election that resulted in\nthe election of St. Damasus as Pope of Rome, though no theological\nquestion appears to have been at issue, the riots were so fierce that one\nhundred and thirty-seven corpses were found in one of the churches.(413)\nThe precedent of the Jewish persecutions of idolatry having been adduced\nby St. Cyprian, in the third century, in favour of excommunication,(414)\nwas urged by Optatus, in the reign of Constantine, in favour of\npersecuting the Donatists;(415) in the next reign we find a large body of\nChristians presenting to the emperor a petition, based upon this\nprecedent, imploring him to destroy by force the Pagan worship.(416) About\nfifteen years later, the whole Christian Church was prepared, on the same\ngrounds, to support the persecuting policy of St. Ambrose,(417) the\ncontending sects having found, in the duty of crushing religious liberty,\nthe solitary tenet on which they were agreed. The most unaggressive and\nunobtrusive forms of Paganism were persecuted with the same ferocity.(418)\nTo offer a sacrifice was to commit a capital offence; to hang up a simple\nchaplet was to incur the forfeiture of an estate. The noblest works of\nAsiatic architecture and of Greek sculpture perished by the same\niconoclasm that shattered the humble temple at which the peasant loved to\npray, or the household gods which consecrated his home. There were no\nvarieties of belief too minute for the new intolerance to embitter. The\nquestion of the proper time of celebrating Easter was believed to involve\nthe issue of salvation or damnation;(419) and when, long after, in the\nfourteenth century, the question of the nature of the light at the\ntransfiguration was discussed at Constantinople, those who refused to\nadmit that that light was uncreated, were deprived of the honours of\nChristian burial.(420)\n\nTogether with these legislative and ecclesiastical measures, a literature\narose surpassing in its mendacious ferocity any other the world had known.\nThe polemical writers habitually painted as d\u00e6mons those who diverged from\nthe orthodox belief, gloated with a vindictive piety over the sufferings\nof the heretic upon earth, as upon a Divine punishment, and sometimes,\nwith an almost superhuman malice, passing in imagination beyond the\nthreshold of the grave, exulted in no ambiguous terms on the tortures\nwhich they believed to be reserved for him for ever. A few men, such as\nSynesius, Basil, or Salvian, might still find some excellence in Pagans or\nheretics, but their candour was altogether exceptional; and he who will\ncompare the beautiful pictures the Greek poets gave of their Trojan\nadversaries, or the Roman historians of the enemies of their country, with\nthose which ecclesiastical writers, for many centuries, almost invariably\ngave of all who were opposed to their Church, may easily estimate the\nextent to which cosmopolitan sympathy had retrograded.\n\nAt the period, however, when the Western monasteries began to discharge\ntheir intellectual functions, the supremacy of Catholicism was nearly\nestablished, and polemical ardour had begun to wane. The literary zeal of\nthe Church took other forms, but all were deeply tinged by the monastic\nspirit. It is difficult or impossible to conceive what would have been the\nintellectual future of the world had Catholicism never arisen\u2014what\nprinciples or impulses would have guided the course of the human mind, or\nwhat new institutions would have been created for its culture. Under the\ninfluence of Catholicism, the monastery became the one sphere of\nintellectual labour, and it continued during many centuries to occupy that\nposition. Without entering into anything resembling a literary history,\nwhich would be foreign to the objects of the present work, I shall\nendeavour briefly to estimate the manner in which it discharged its\nfunctions.\n\nThe first idea that is naturally suggested by the mention of the\nintellectual services of monasteries is the preservation of the writings\nof the Pagans. I have already observed that among the early Christians\nthere was a marked difference on the subject of their writings. The school\nwhich was represented by Tertullian regarded them with abhorrence; while\nthe Platonists, who were represented by Justin Martyr, Clement of\nAlexandria, and Origen, not merely recognised with great cordiality their\nbeauties, but even imagined that they could detect in them both the traces\nof an original Divine inspiration, and plagiarisms from the Jewish\nwritings. While avoiding, for the most part, these extremes, St.\nAugustine, the great organiser of Western Christianity, treats the Pagan\nwritings with appreciative respect. He had himself ascribed his first\nconversion from a course of vice to the \u2019Hortensius\u2019 of Cicero, and his\nworks are full of discriminating, and often very beautiful, applications\nof the old Roman literature. The attempt of Julian to prevent the\nChristians from teaching the classics, and the extreme resentment which\nthat attempt elicited, show how highly the Christian leaders of that\nperiod valued this form of education; and it was naturally the more\ncherished on account of the contest. The influence of Neoplatonism, the\nbaptism of multitudes of nominal Christians after Constantine, and the\ndecline of zeal which necessarily accompanied prosperity, had all in\ndifferent ways the same tendency. In Synesius we have the curious\nphenomenon of a bishop who, not content with proclaiming himself the\nadmiring friend of the Pagan Hypatia, openly declared his complete\ndisbelief in the resurrection of the body, and his firm adhesion to the\nPlatonic doctrine of the pre-existence of souls.(421) Had the\necclesiastical theory prevailed which gave such latitude even to the\nleaders of the Church, the course of Christianity would have been very\ndifferent. A reactionary spirit, however, arose at Rome. The doctrine of\nexclusive salvation supplied its intellectual basis; the political and\norganising genius of the Roman ecclesiastics impelled them to reduce\nbelief into a rigid form; the genius of St. Gregory guided the\nmovement,(422) and a series of historical events, of which the\necclesiastical and political separation of the Western empire from the\nspeculative Greeks, and the invasion and conversion of the barbarians,\nwere the most important, definitely established the ascendancy of the\nCatholic type. In the convulsions that followed the barbarian invasions,\nintellectual energy of a secular kind almost absolutely ceased. A parting\ngleam issued, indeed, in the sixth century, from the Court of Theodoric,\nat Ravenna, which was adorned by the genius of Bo\u00ebthius, and the talent of\nCassiodorus and Symmachus, but after this time, for a long period,\nliterature consisted almost exclusively of sermons and lives of saints,\nwhich were composed in the monasteries.(423) Gregory of Tours was\nsucceeded as an annalist by the still feebler Fredegarius, and there was\nthen a long and absolute blank. A few outlying countries showed some faint\nanimation. St. Leander and St. Isidore planted at Seville a school, which\nflourished in the seventh century, and the distant monasteries of Ireland\ncontinued somewhat later to be the receptacles of learning; but the rest\nof Europe sank into an almost absolute torpor, till the rationalism of\nAbelard, and the events that followed the crusades, began the revival of\nlearning. The principal service which Catholicism rendered during this\nperiod to Pagan literature was probably the perpetuation of Latin as a\nsacred language. The complete absence of all curiosity about that\nliterature is shown by the fact that Greek was suffered to become almost\nabsolutely extinct, though there was no time when the Western nations had\nnot some relations with the Greek empire, or when pilgrimages to the Holy\nLand altogether ceased. The study of the Latin classics was for the most\npart positively discouraged. The writers, it was believed, were burning in\nhell; the monks were too inflated with their imaginary knowledge to regard\nwith any respect a Pagan writer, and periodical panics about the\napproaching termination of the world continually checked any desire for\nsecular learning.(424) It was the custom among some monks, when they were\nunder the discipline of silence, and desired to ask for Virgil, Horace, or\nany other Gentile work, to indicate their wish by scratching their ears\nlike a dog, to which animal it was thought the Pagans might be reasonably\ncompared.(425) The monasteries contained, it is said, during some time,\nthe only libraries in Europe, and were therefore the sole receptacles of\nthe Pagan manuscripts; but we cannot infer from this that, if the\nmonasteries had not existed, similar libraries would not have been called\ninto being in their place. To the occasional industry of the monks, in\ncopying the works of antiquity, we must oppose the industry they\ndisplayed, though chiefly at a somewhat later period, in scraping the\nancient parchments, in order that, having obliterated the writing of the\nPagans, they might cover them with their own legends.(426)\n\nThere are some aspects, however, in which the monastic period of\nliterature appears eminently beautiful. The fretfulness and impatience and\nextreme tension of modern literary life, the many anxieties that paralyse,\nand the feverish craving for applause that perverts, so many noble\nintellects, were then unknown. Severed from all the cares of active life,\nin the deep calm of the monastery, where the turmoil of the outer world\ncould never come, the monkish scholar pursued his studies in a spirit\nwhich has now almost faded from the world. No doubt had ever disturbed his\nmind. To him the problem of the universe seemed solved. Expatiating for\never with unfaltering faith upon the unseen world, he had learnt to live\nfor it alone. His hopes were not fixed upon human greatness or fame, but\nupon the pardon of his sins, and the rewards of a happier world. A crowd\nof quaint and often beautiful legends illustrate the deep union that\nsubsisted between literature and religion. It is related of C\u00e6dmon, the\nfirst great poet of the Anglo-Saxons, that he found in the secular life no\nvent for his hidden genius. When the warriors assembled at their banquets,\nsang in turn the praises of war or beauty, as the instrument passed to\nhim, he rose and went out with a sad heart, for he alone was unable to\nweave his thoughts in verse. Wearied and desponding he lay down to rest,\nwhen a figure appeared to him in his dream and commanded him to sing the\nCreation of the World. A transport of religious fervour thrilled his\nbrain, his imprisoned intellect was unlocked, and he soon became the\nforemost poet of his land.(427) A Spanish boy, having long tried in vain\nto master his task, and driven to despair by the severity of his teacher,\nran away from his father\u2019s home. Tired with wandering, and full of anxious\nthoughts, he sat down to rest by the margin of a well, when his eye was\ncaught by the deep furrow in the stone. He asked a girl who was drawing\nwater to explain it, and she told him that it had been worn by the\nconstant attrition of the rope. The poor boy, who was already full of\nremorse for what he had done, recognised in the reply a Divine intimation.\n\u201cIf,\u201d he thought, \u201cby daily use the soft rope could thus penetrate the\nhard stone, surely a long perseverance could overcome the dulness of my\nbrain.\u201d He returned to his father\u2019s house; he laboured with redoubled\nearnestness, and he lived to be the great St. Isidore of Spain.(428) A\nmonk who had led a vicious life was saved, it is said, from hell, because\nit was found that his sins, though very numerous, were just outnumbered by\nthe letters of a ponderous and devout book he had written.(429) The Holy\nSpirit, in the shape of a dove, had been seen to inspire St. Gregory; and\nthe writings of St. Thomas Aquinas, and of several other theologians, had\nbeen expressly applauded by Christ or by his saints. When, twenty years\nafter death, the tomb of a certain monkish writer was opened, it was found\nthat, although the remainder of the body had crumbled into dust, the hand\nthat had held the pen remained flexible and undecayed.(430) A young and\nnameless scholar was once buried near a convent at Bonn. The night after\nhis funeral, a nun whose cell overlooked the cemetery was awakened by a\nbrilliant light that filled the room. She started up, imagining that the\nday had dawned, but on looking out she found that it was still night,\nthough a dazzling splendour was around. A female form of matchless\nloveliness was bending over the scholar\u2019s grave. The effluence of her\nbeauty filled the air with light, and she clasped to her heart a\nsnow-white dove that rose to meet her from the tomb. It was the Mother of\nGod come to receive the soul of the martyred scholar; \u201cfor scholars too,\u201d\nadds the old chronicler, \u201care martyrs if they live in purity and labour\nwith courage.\u201d(431)\n\nBut legends of this kind, though not without a very real beauty, must not\nblind us to the fact that the period of Catholic ascendancy was on the\nwhole one of the most deplorable in the history of the human mind. The\nenergies of Christendom were diverted from all useful and progressive\nstudies, and were wholly expended on theological disquisitions. A crowd of\nsuperstitions, attributed to infallible wisdom, barred the path of\nknowledge, and the charge of magic, or the charge of heresy, crushed every\nbold enquiry in the sphere of physical nature or of opinions. Above all,\nthe conditions of true enquiry had been cursed by the Church. A blind\nunquestioning credulity was inculcated as the first of duties, and the\nhabit of doubt, the impartiality of a suspended judgment, the desire to\nhear both sides of a disputed question, and to emancipate the judgment\nfrom unreasoning prejudice, were all in consequence condemned. The belief\nin the guilt of error and doubt became universal, and that belief may be\nconfidently pronounced to be the most pernicious superstition that has\never been accredited among mankind. Mistaken facts are rectified by\nenquiry. Mistaken methods of research, though far more inveterate, are\ngradually altered; but the spirit that shrinks from enquiry as sinful, and\ndeems a state of doubt a state of guilt, is the most enduring disease that\ncan afflict the mind of man. Not till the education of Europe passed from\nthe monasteries to the universities, not till Mohammedan science, and\nclassical free-thought, and industrial independence broke the sceptre of\nthe Church, did the intellectual revival of Europe begin.\n\nI am aware that so strong a statement of the intellectual darkness of the\nmiddle ages is likely to encounter opposition from many quarters. The\nblindness which the philosophers of the eighteenth century manifested to\ntheir better side has produced a reaction which has led many to an\nopposite, and, I believe, far more erroneous extreme. Some have become\neulogists of the period, through love of its distinctive theological\ndoctrines, and others through arch\u00e6ological enthusiasm, while a very\npretentious and dogmatic, but, I think, sometimes superficial, school of\nwriters, who loudly boast themselves the regenerators of history, and\ntreat with supreme contempt all the varieties of theological opinion, are\naccustomed, partly through a very shallow historical optimism which\nscarcely admits the possibility of retrogression, and partly through\nsympathy with the despotic character of Catholicism, to extol the medi\u00e6val\nsociety in the most extravagant terms. Without entering into a lengthy\nexamination of this subject, I may be permitted to indicate shortly two or\nthree fallacies which are continually displayed in their appreciations.\n\nIt is an undoubted truth that, for a considerable period, almost all the\nknowledge of Europe was included in the monasteries, and from this it is\ncontinually inferred that, had these institutions not existed, knowledge\nwould have been absolutely extinguished. But such a conclusion I conceive\nto be altogether untrue. During the period of the Pagan empire,\nintellectual life had been diffused over a vast portion of the globe.\nEgypt and Asia Minor had become great centres of civilisation. Greece was\nstill a land of learning. Spain, Gaul, and even Britain,(432) were full of\nlibraries and teachers. The schools of Narbonne, Arles, Bordeaux,\nToulouse, Lyons, Marseilles, Poitiers, and Tr\u00e8ves were already famous. The\nChristian emperor Gratian, in A.D. 376, carried out in Gaul a system\nsimilar to that which had already, under the Antonines, been pursued in\nItaly, ordaining that teachers should be supported by the State in every\nleading city.(433) To suppose that Latin literature, having been so widely\ndiffused, could have totally perished, or that all interest in it could\nhave permanently ceased, even under the extremely unfavourable\ncircumstances that followed the downfall of the Roman Empire and the\nMohammedan invasions, is, I conceive, absurd. If Catholicism had never\nexisted, the human mind would have sought other spheres for its\ndevelopment, and at least a part of the treasures of antiquity would have\nbeen preserved in other ways. The monasteries, as corporations of peaceful\nmen protected from the incursions of the barbarians, became very naturally\nthe reservoirs to which the streams of literature flowed; but much of what\nthey are represented as creating, they had in reality only attracted. The\ninviolable sanctity which they secured rendered them invaluable\nreceptacles of ancient learning in a period of anarchy and perpetual war,\nand the industry of the monks in transcribing, probably more than\ncounterbalanced their industry in effacing, the classical writings. The\necclesiastical unity of Christendom was also of extreme importance in\nrendering possible a general interchange of ideas. Whether these services\noutweighed the intellectual evils resulting from the complete diversion of\nthe human mind from all secular learning, and from the persistent\ninculcation, as a matter of duty, of that habit of abject credulity which\nit is the first task of the intellectual reformer to eradicate, may be\nreasonably doubted.\n\nIt is not unfrequent, again, to hear the preceding fallacy stated in a\nsomewhat different form. We are reminded that almost all the men of genius\nduring several centuries were great theologians, and we are asked to\nconceive the more than Egyptian darkness that would have prevailed had the\nCatholic theology which produced them not existed. This judgment resembles\nthat of the prisoner in a famous passage of Cicero, who, having spent his\nentire life in a dark dungeon, and knowing the light of day only from a\nsingle ray which passed through a fissure in the wall, inferred that if\nthe wall were removed, as the fissure would no longer exist, all light\nwould be excluded. Medi\u00e6val Catholicism discouraged and suppressed in\nevery way secular studies, while it conferred a monopoly of wealth and\nhonour and power upon the distinguished theologian. Very naturally,\ntherefore, it attracted into the path of theology the genius that would\nhave existed without it, but would under other circumstances have been\ndisplayed in other forms.\n\nIt is not to be inferred, however, from this, that medi\u00e6val Catholicism\nhad not, in the sphere of intellect, any real creative power. A great\nmoral or religious enthusiasm always evokes a certain amount of genius\nthat would not otherwise have existed, or at least been displayed, and the\nmonasteries were peculiarly fitted to develop certain casts of mind, which\nin no other sphere could have so perfectly expanded. The great writings of\nSt. Thomas Aquinas(434) and his followers, and, in more modern times, the\nmassive and conscientious erudition of the Benedictines, will always make\ncertain periods of the monastic history venerable to the scholar. But,\nwhen we remember that during many centuries nearly every one possessing\nany literary taste or talents became a monk, when we recollect that these\nmonks were familiar with the language, and might easily have been familiar\nwith the noble literature, of ancient Rome, and when we also consider the\nmode of their life, which would seem, from its freedom from care, and from\nthe very monotony of its routine, peculiarly calculated to impel them to\nstudy, we can hardly fail to wonder how very little of any real value they\nadded, for so long a period, to the knowledge of mankind. It is indeed a\nremarkable fact that, even in the ages when the Catholic ascendancy was\nmost perfect, some of the greatest achievements were either opposed or\nsimply external to ecclesiastical influence. Roger Bacon, having been a\nmonk, is frequently spoken of as a creature of Catholic teaching. But\nthere never was a more striking instance of the force of a great genius in\nresisting the tendencies of his age. At a time when physical science was\ncontinually neglected, discouraged, or condemned, at a time when all the\ngreat prizes of the world were open to men who pursued a very different\ncourse, Bacon applied himself with transcendent genius to the study of\nnature. Fourteen years of his life were spent in prison, and when he died\nhis name was blasted as a magician. The medi\u00e6val laboratories were chiefly\ndue to the pursuit of alchemy, or to Mohammedan encouragement. The\ninventions of the mariner\u2019s compass, of gunpowder, and of rag paper were\nall, indeed, of extreme importance; but no part of the credit of them\nbelongs to the monks. Their origin is involved in much obscurity, but it\nis almost certain that the last two, at all events, were first employed in\nEurope by the Mohammedans of Spain. Cotton paper was in use among these as\nearly as 1009. Among the Christian nations it appears to have been unknown\ntill late in the thirteenth century. The first instance of the employment\nof artillery among Christian nations was at the battle of Crecy, but the\nknowledge of gunpowder among them has been traced back as far as 1338.\nThere is abundant evidence, however, of its employment in Spain by\nMohammedans in several sieges in the thirteenth century, and even in a\nbattle between the Moors of Seville and those of Tunis at the end of the\neleventh century.(435) In invention, indeed, as well as in original\nresearch, the medi\u00e6val monasteries were singularly barren. They cultivated\nformal logic to great perfection. They produced many patient and\nlaborious, though, for the most part, wholly uncritical scholars, and many\nphilosophers who, having assumed their premises with unfaltering faith,\nreasoned from them with admirable subtlety; but they taught men to regard\nthe sacrifice of secular learning as a noble thing; they impressed upon\nthem a theory of the habitual government of the universe, which is\nabsolutely untrue; and they diffused, wherever their influence extended,\nhabits of credulity and intolerance that are the most deadly poisons to\nthe human mind.\n\nIt is, again, very frequently observed among the more philosophic\neulogists of the medi\u00e6val period, that although the Catholic Church is a\ntrammel and an obstacle to the progress of civilised nations, although it\nwould be scarcely possible to exaggerate the misery her persecuting spirit\ncaused, when the human mind had outstripped her teaching; yet there was a\ntime when she was greatly in advance of the age, and the complete and\nabsolute ascendancy she then exercised was intellectually eminently\nbeneficial. That there is much truth in this view, I have myself\nrepeatedly maintained. But when men proceed to isolate the former period,\nand to make it the theme of unqualified eulogy, they fall, I think, into a\ngrave error. The evils that sprang from the later period of Catholic\nascendancy were not an accident or a perversion, but a normal and\nnecessary consequence of the previous despotism. The principles which were\nimposed on the medi\u00e6val world, and which were the conditions of so much of\nits distinctive excellence, were of such a nature that they claimed to be\nfinal, and could not possibly be discarded without a struggle and a\nconvulsion. We must estimate the influence of these principles considered\nas a whole, and during the entire period of their operation. There are\nsome poisons which, before they kill men, allay pain and diffuse a\nsoothing sensation through the frame. We may recognise the hour of\nenjoyment they procure, but we must not separate it from the price at\nwhich it is purchased.\n\nThe extremely unfavourable influence the Catholic Church long exercised\nupon intellectual development had important moral consequences. Although\nmoral progress does not necessarily depend upon intellectual progress it\nis materially affected by it, intellectual activity being the most\nimportant element in the growth of that great and complex organism which\nwe call civilisation. The medi\u00e6val credulity had also a more direct moral\ninfluence in producing that indifference to truth, which is the most\nrepulsive feature of so many Catholic writings. The very large part that\nmust be assigned to deliberate forgeries in the early apologetic\nliterature of the Church we have already seen; and no impartial reader\ncan, I think, investigate the innumerable grotesque and lying legends\nthat, during the whole course of the Middle Ages, were deliberately palmed\nupon mankind as undoubted facts, can follow the histories of the false\ndecretals, and the discussions that were connected with them, or can\nobserve the complete and absolute incapacity most Catholic historians have\ndisplayed, of conceiving any good thing in the ranks of their opponents,\nor of stating with common fairness any consideration that can tell against\ntheir cause, without acknowledging how serious and how inveterate has been\nthe evil. There have, no doubt, been many noble individual exceptions. Yet\nit is, I believe, difficult to exaggerate the extent to which this moral\ndefect exists in most of the ancient and very much of the modern\nliterature of Catholicism. It is this which makes it so unspeakably\nrepulsive to all independent and impartial thinkers, and has led a great\nGerman historian(436) to declare, with much bitterness, that the phrase\nChristian veracity deserves to rank with the phrase Punic faith. But this\nabsolute indifference to truth whenever falsehood could subserve the\ninterests of the Church is perfectly explicable, and was found in\nmultitudes who, in other respects, exhibited the noblest virtue. An age\nwhich has ceased to value impartiality of judgment will soon cease to\nvalue accuracy of statement; and when credulity is inculcated as a virtue,\nfalsehood will not long be stigmatised as a vice. When, too, men are\nfirmly convinced that salvation can only be found within their Church, and\nthat their Church can absolve from all guilt, they will speedily conclude\nthat nothing can possibly be wrong which is beneficial to it. They\nexchange the love of truth for what they call the love of _the_ truth.\nThey regard morals as derived from and subordinate to theology, and they\nregulate all their statements, not by the standard of veracity, but by the\ninterests of their creed.\n\nAnother important moral consequence of the monastic system was the great\nprominence given to pecuniary compensations for crime. It had been at\nfirst one of the broad distinctions between Paganism and Christianity,\nthat, while the rites of the former were for the most part unconnected\nwith moral dispositions, Christianity made purity of heart an essential\nelement of all its worship. Among the Pagans a few faint efforts had, it\nis true, been made in this direction. An old precept or law, which is\nreferred to by Cicero, and which was strongly reiterated by Apollonius of\nTyana, and the Pythagoreans, declared that \u201cno impious man should dare to\nappease the anger of the divinities by gifts;\u201d(437) and oracles are said\nto have more than once proclaimed that the hecatombs of noble oxen with\ngilded horns that were offered up ostentatiously by the rich, were less\npleasing to the gods than the wreaths of flowers and the modest and\nreverential worship of the poor.(438) In general, however, in the Pagan\nworld, the service of the temple had little or no connection with morals,\nand the change which Christianity effected in this respect was one of its\nmost important benefits to mankind. It was natural, however, and perhaps\ninevitable, that in the course of time, and under the action of very\nvarious causes, the old Pagan sentiment should revive, and even with an\nincreased intensity. In no respect had the Christians been more nobly\ndistinguished than by their charity. It was not surprising that the\nFathers, while exerting all their eloquence to stimulate this\nvirtue\u2014especially during the calamities that accompanied the dissolution\nof the Empire\u2014should have dilated in extremely strong terms upon the\nspiritual benefits the donor would receive for his gift. It is also not\nsurprising that this selfish calculation should gradually, and among hard\nand ignorant men, have absorbed all other motives. A curious legend, which\nis related by a writer of the seventh century, illustrates the kind of\nfeeling that had arisen. The Christian bishop Synesius succeeded in\nconverting a Pagan named Evagrius, who for a long time, however, felt\ndoubts about the passage, \u201cHe who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.\u201d\nOn his conversion, and in obedience to this verse, he gave Synesius three\nhundred pieces of gold to be distributed among the poor; but he exacted\nfrom the bishop, as the representative of Christ, a promissory note,\nengaging that he should be repaid in the future world. Many years later,\nEvagrius, being on his death-bed, commanded his sons, when they buried\nhim, to place the note in his hand, and to do so without informing\nSynesius. His dying injunction was observed, and three days afterwards he\nappeared to Synesius in a dream, told him that the debt had been paid, and\nordered him to go to the tomb, where he would find a written receipt.\nSynesius did as he was commanded, and, the grave being opened, the\npromissory note was found in the hand of the dead man, with an endorsement\ndeclaring that the debt had been paid by Christ. The note, it was said,\nwas long after preserved as a relic in the church of Cyrene.\n\nThe kind of feeling which this legend displays was soon turned with\ntenfold force into the channel of monastic life. A law of Constantine\naccorded, and several later laws enlarged, the power of bequests to\necclesiastics. Ecclesiastical property was at the same time exonerated\nfrom the public burdens, and this measure not only directly assisted its\nincrease, but had also an important indirect influence; for, when taxation\nwas heavy, many laymen ceded the ownership of their estates to the\nmonasteries, with a secret condition that they should, as vassals, receive\nthe revenues unburdened by taxation, and subject only to a slight payment\nto the monks as to their feudal lords.(439) The monks were regarded as the\ntrustees of the poor, and also as themselves typical poor, and all the\npromises that applied to those who gave to the poor applied, it was said,\nto the benefactors of the monasteries. The monastic chapel also contained\nthe relics of saints or sacred images of miraculous power, and throngs of\nworshippers were attracted by the miracles, and desired to place\nthemselves under the protection, of the saint. It is no exaggeration to\nsay that to give money to the priests was for several centuries the first\narticle of the moral code. Political minds may have felt the importance of\naggrandising a pacific and industrious class in the centre of a\ndisorganised society, and family affection may have predisposed many in\nfavour of institutions which contained at least one member of most\nfamilies; but in the overwhelming majority of cases the motive was simple\nsuperstition. In seasons of sickness, of danger, of sorrow, or of remorse,\nwhenever the fear or the conscience of the worshipper was awakened, he\nhastened to purchase with money the favour of a saint. Above all, in the\nhour of death, when the terrors of the future world loomed darkly upon his\nmind, he saw in a gift or legacy to the monks a sure means of effacing the\nmost monstrous crimes, and securing his ultimate happiness. A rich man was\nsoon scarcely deemed a Christian if he did not leave a portion of his\nproperty to the Church, and the charters of innumerable monasteries in\nevery part of Europe attest the vast tracts of land that were ceded by\nwill to the monks, \u201cfor the benefit of the soul\u201d of the testator.(440)\n\nIt has been observed by a great historian that we may trace three distinct\nphases in the early history of the Church. In the first period religion\nwas a question of morals; in the second period, which culminated in the\nfifth century, it had become a question of orthodoxy; in the third period,\nwhich dates from the seventh century, it was a question of munificence to\nmonasteries.(441) The despotism of Catholicism, and the ignorance that\nfollowed the barbarian invasions, had repressed the struggles of heresy,\nand in the period of almost absolute darkness that continued from the\nsixth to the twelfth century, the theological ideal of unquestioning faith\nand of perfect unanimity was all but realised in the West. All the energy\nthat in previous ages had been expended in combating heresy was now\nexpended in acquiring wealth. The people compounded for the most atrocious\ncrimes by gifts to shrines of those saints whose intercession was supposed\nto be unfailing. The monks, partly by the natural cessation of their old\nenthusiasm, partly by the absence of any hostile criticism of their acts,\nand partly too by the very wealth they had acquired, sank into gross and\ngeneral immorality. The great majority of them had probably at no time\nbeen either saints actuated by a strong religious motive, nor yet diseased\nand desponding minds seeking a refuge from the world; they had been simply\npeasants, of no extraordinary devotion or sensitiveness, who preferred an\nensured subsistence, with no care, little labour, a much higher social\nposition than they could otherwise acquire, and the certainty, as they\nbelieved, of going to heaven, to the laborious and precarious existence of\nthe serf, relieved, indeed, by the privilege of marriage, but exposed to\nmilitary service, to extreme hardships, and to constant oppression. Very\nnaturally, when they could do so with impunity, they broke their vows of\nchastity. Very naturally, too, they availed themselves to the full of the\ncondition of affairs, to draw as much wealth as possible into their\ncommunity.(442) The belief in the approaching end of the world, especially\nat the close of the tenth century, the crusades, which gave rise to a\nprofitable traffic in the form of a pecuniary commutation of vows, and the\nblack death, which produced a paroxysm of religious fanaticism, stimulated\nthe movement. In the monkish chronicles, the merits of sovereigns are\nalmost exclusively judged by their bounty to the Church, and in some cases\nthis is the sole part of their policy which has been preserved.(443)\n\nThere were, no doubt, a few redeeming points in this dark period. The\nIrish monks are said to have been honourably distinguished for their\nreluctance to accept the lavish donations of their admirers,(444) and some\nmissionary monasteries of a high order of excellence were scattered\nthrough Europe. A few legends, too, may be cited censuring the facility\nwith which money acquired by crime was accepted as an atonement for\ncrime.(445) But these cases were very rare, and the religious history of\nseveral centuries is little more than a history of the rapacity of priests\nand of the credulity of laymen. In England, the perpetual demands of the\nPope excited a fierce resentment; and we may trace with remarkable\nclearness, in every page of Matthew Paris, the alienation of sympathy\narising from this cause, which prepared and foreshadowed the final rupture\nof England from the Church. Ireland, on the other hand, had been given\nover by two Popes to the English invader, on the condition of the payment\nof Peter\u2019s pence. The outrageous and notorious immorality of the\nmonasteries, during the century before the Reformation, was chiefly due to\ntheir great wealth; and that immorality, as the writings of Erasmus and\nUlric von Hutten show, gave a powerful impulse to the new movement, while\nthe abuses of the indulgences were the immediate cause of the revolt of\nLuther. But these things arrived only after many centuries of successful\nfraud. The religious terrorism that was unscrupulously employed had done\nits work, and the chief riches of Christendom had passed into the coffers\nof the Church.\n\nIt is, indeed, probable that religious terrorism played a more important\npart in the monastic phase of Christianity than it had done even in the\ngreat work of the conversion of the Pagans. Although two or three amiable\ntheologians had made faint and altogether abortive attempts to question\nthe eternity of punishment; although there had been some slight difference\nof opinion concerning the future of some Pagan philosophers who had lived\nbefore the introduction of Christianity, and also upon the question\nwhether infants who died unbaptised were only deprived of all joy, or were\nactually subjected to never-ending agony, there was no question as to the\nmain features of the Catholic doctrine. According to the patristic\ntheologians, it was part of the gospel revelation that the misery and\nsuffering the human race endures upon earth is but a feeble image of that\nwhich awaits it in the future world; that all its members beyond the\nChurch, as well as a very large proportion of those who are within its\npale, are doomed to an eternity of agony in a literal and undying fire.\nThe monastic legends took up this doctrine, which in itself is\nsufficiently revolting, and they developed it with an appalling vividness\nand minuteness. St. Macarius, it is said, when walking one day through the\ndesert, saw a skull upon the ground. He struck it with his staff and it\nbegan to speak. It told him that it was the skull of a Pagan priest who\nhad lived before the introduction of Christianity into the world, and who\nhad accordingly been doomed to hell. As high as the heaven is above the\nearth, so high does the fire of hell mount in waves above the souls that\nare plunged into it. The damned souls were pressed together back to back,\nand the lost priest made it his single entreaty to the saint that he would\npray that they might be turned face to face, for he believed that the\nsight of a brother\u2019s face might afford him some faint consolation in the\neternity of agony that was before him.(446) The story is well known of how\nSt. Gregory, seeing on a bas-relief a representation of the goodness of\nTrajan to a poor widow, pitied the Pagan emperor, whom he knew to be in\nhell, and prayed that he might be released. He was told that his prayer\nwas altogether unprecedented; but at last, on his promising that he would\nnever offer such a prayer again, it was partially granted. Trajan was not\nwithdrawn from hell, but he was freed from the torments which the\nremainder of the Pagan world endured.(447)\n\nAn entire literature of visions depicting the torments of hell was soon\nproduced by the industry of the monks. The apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus,\nwhich purported to describe the descent of Christ into the lower world,\ncontributed to foster it; and St. Gregory the Great has related many\nvisions in a more famous work, which professed to be compiled with\nscrupulous veracity from the most authentic sources,(448) and of which it\nmay be confidently averred that it scarcely contains a single page which\nis not tainted with grotesque and deliberate falsehood. Men, it was said,\npassed into a trance or temporary death, and were then carried for a time\nto hell. Among others, a certain man named Stephen, from whose lips the\nsaint declares that he had heard the tale, had died by mistake. When his\nsoul was borne to the gates of hell, the Judge declared that it was\nanother Stephen who was wanted; the disembodied spirit, after inspecting\nhell, was restored to its former body, and the next day it was known that\nanother Stephen had died.(449) Volcanoes were the portals of hell, and a\nhermit had seen the soul of the Arian emperor Theodoric, as St. Eucherius\nafterwards did the soul of Charles Martel, carried down that in the Island\nof Lipari.(450) The craters in Sicily, it was remarked, were continually\nagitated, and continually increasing, and this, as St. Gregory observes,\nwas probably due to the impending ruin of the world, when the great press\nof lost souls would render it necessary to enlarge the approaches to their\nprisons.(451)\n\nBut the glimpses of hell that are furnished in the \u201cDialogues\u201d of St.\nGregory appear meagre and unimaginative, compared with those of some later\nmonks. A long series of monastic visions, of which that of St. Fursey, in\nthe seventh century, was one of the first, and which followed in rapid\nsuccession, till that of Tundale, in the twelfth century, professed to\ndescribe with the most detailed accuracy the condition of the lost.(452)\nIt is impossible to conceive more ghastly, grotesque, and material\nconceptions of the future world than they evince, or more hideous\ncalumnies against that Being who was supposed to inflict upon His\ncreatures such unspeakable misery. The devil was represented bound by\nred-hot chains, on a burning gridiron in the centre of hell. The screams\nof his never-ending agony made its rafters to resound; but his hands were\nfree, and with these he seized the lost souls, crushed them like grapes\nagainst his teeth, and then drew them by his breath down the fiery cavern\nof his throat. D\u00e6mons with hooks of red-hot iron plunged souls alternately\ninto fire and ice. Some of the lost were hung up by their tongues, others\nwere sawn asunder, others gnawed by serpents, others beaten together on an\nanvil and welded into a single mass, others boiled and then strained\nthrough a cloth, others twined in the embraces of d\u00e6mons whose limbs were\nof flame. The fire of earth, it was said, was but a picture of that of\nhell. The latter was so immeasurably more intense that it alone could be\ncalled real. Sulphur was mixed with it, partly to increase its heat, and\npartly, too, in order that an insufferable stench might be added to the\nmisery of the lost, while, unlike other flames, it emitted, according to\nsome visions, no light, that the horror of darkness might be added to the\nhorror of pain. A narrow bridge spanned the abyss, and from it the souls\nof sinners were plunged into the darkness that was below.(453)\n\nSuch catalogues of horrors, though they now awake in an educated man a\nsentiment of mingled disgust, weariness, and contempt, were able for many\ncenturies to create a degree of panic and of misery we can scarcely\nrealise. With the exception of the heretic Pelagius, whose noble genius,\nanticipating the discoveries of modern science, had repudiated the\ntheological notion of death having been introduced into the world on\naccount of the act of Adam, it was universally held among Christians that\nall the forms of suffering and dissolution that are manifested on earth\nwere penal inflictions. The destruction of the world was generally\nbelieved to be at hand. The minds of men were filled with images of the\napproaching catastrophe, and innumerable legends of visible d\u00e6mons were\nindustriously circulated. It was the custom then, as it is the custom now,\nfor Catholic priests to stain the imaginations of young children by\nghastly pictures of future misery, to imprint upon the virgin mind\natrocious images which they hoped, not unreasonably, might prove\nindelible.(454) In hours of weakness and of sickness their overwrought\nfancy seemed to see hideous beings hovering around, and hell itself\nyawning to receive its victim. St. Gregory describes how a monk, who,\nthough apparently a man of exemplary and even saintly piety, had been\naccustomed secretly to eat meat, saw on his deathbed a fearful dragon\ntwining its tail round his body, and, with open jaws, sucking his\nbreath;(455) and how a little boy of five years old, who had learnt from\nhis father to repeat blasphemous words, saw, as he lay dying, exulting\nd\u00e6mons who were waiting to carry him to hell.(456) To the jaundiced eye of\nthe theologian, all nature seemed stricken and forlorn, and its brightness\nand beauty suggested no ideas but those of deception and of sin. The\nredbreast, according to one popular legend, was commissioned by the Deity\nto carry a drop of water to the souls of unbaptised infants in hell, and\nits breast was singed in piercing the flames.(457) In the calm, still hour\nof evening, when the peasant boy asked why the sinking sun, as it dipped\nbeneath the horizon, flushed with such a glorious red, he was answered, in\nthe words of an old Saxon catechism, because it is then looking into\nhell.(458)\n\nIt is related in the vision of Tundale, that as he gazed upon the burning\nplains of hell, and listened to the screams of ceaseless and hopeless\nagony that were wrung from the sufferers, the cry broke from his lips,\n\u201cAlas, Lord! what truth is there in what I have so often heard\u2014the earth\nis filled with the mercy of God?\u201d(459) It is, indeed, one of the most\ncurious things in moral history, to observe how men who were sincerely\nindignant with Pagan writers for attributing to their divinities the\nfrailties of an occasional jealousy or an occasional sensuality\u2014for\nrepresenting them, in a word, like men of mingled characters and\npassions\u2014have nevertheless unscrupulously attributed to their own Divinity\na degree of cruelty which may be confidently said to transcend the utmost\nbarbarity of which human nature is capable. Neither Nero nor Phalaris\ncould have looked complacently for ever on millions enduring the torture\nof fire\u2014most of them because of a crime which was committed, not by\nthemselves, but by their ancestors, or because they had adopted some\nmistaken conclusion on intricate questions of history or metaphysics.(460)\nTo those who do not regard such teaching as true, it must appear without\nexception the most odious in the religious history of the world,\nsubversive of the very foundations of morals, and well fitted to transform\nthe man who at once realised it, and accepted it with pleasure, into a\nmonster of barbarity. Of the writers of the medi\u00e6val period, certainly one\nof the two or three most eminent was Peter Lombard, whose \u201cSentences,\u201d\nthough now, I believe, but little read, were for a long time the basis of\nall theological literature in Europe. More than four thousand theologians\nare said to have written commentaries upon them(461)\u2014among others, Albert\nthe Great, St. Bonaventura, and St. Thomas Aquinas. Nor is the work\nunworthy of its former reputation. Calm, clear, logical, subtle, and\nconcise, the author professes to expound the whole system of Catholic\ntheology and ethics, and to reveal the interdependence of their various\nparts. Having explained the position and the duties, he proceeds to\nexamine the prospects, of man. He maintains that until the day of judgment\nthe inhabitants of heaven and hell will continually see one another; but\nthat, in the succeeding eternity, the inhabitants of heaven alone will see\nthose of the opposite world; and he concludes his great work by this most\nimpressive passage: \u201cIn the last place, we must enquire whether the sight\nof the punishment of the condemned will impair the glory of the blest, or\nwhether it will augment their beatitude. Concerning this, Gregory says the\nsight of the punishment of the lost will not obscure the beatitude of the\njust; for when it is accompanied by no compassion it can be no diminution\nof happiness. And although their own joys might suffice to the just, yet\nto their greater glory they will see the pains of the evil, which by grace\nthey have escaped.... The elect will go forth, not indeed locally, but by\nintelligence, and by a clear vision, to behold the torture of the impious,\nand as they see them they will not grieve. Their minds will be sated with\njoy as they gaze on the unspeakable anguish of the impious, returning\nthanks for their own freedom. Thus Esaias, describing the torments of the\nimpious, and the joy of the righteous in witnessing it, says: \u2018The elect\nin truth will go out and will see the corpses of men who have prevaricated\nagainst Him; their worm will not die, and they will be to the satiety of\nvision to all flesh, that is to the elect. The just man will rejoice when\nhe shall see the vengeance.\u2019 \u201d(462)\n\nThis passion for visions of heaven and hell was, in fact, a natural\ncontinuation of the passion for dogmatic definition, which had raged\nduring the fifth century. It was natural that men, whose curiosity had\nleft no conceivable question of theology undefined, should have\nendeavoured to describe with corresponding precision the condition of the\ndead. Much, however, was due to the hallucinations of solitary and ascetic\nlife, and much more to deliberate imposture. It is impossible for men to\ncontinue long in a condition of extreme panic, and superstition speedily\ndiscovered remedies to allay the fears it had created. If a malicious\nd\u00e6mon was hovering around the believer, and if the jaws of hell were\nopening to receive him, he was defended, on the other hand, by countless\nangels; a lavish gift to a church or monastery could always enlist a saint\nin his behalf, and priestly power could protect him against the dangers\nwhich priestly sagacity had revealed. When the angels were weighing the\ngood and evil deeds of a dead man, the latter were found by far to\npreponderate; but a priest of St. Lawrence came in, and turned the scale\nby throwing down among the former a heavy gold chalice, which the deceased\nhad given to the altar.(463) Dagobert was snatched from the very arms of\nd\u00e6mons by St. Denis, St. Maurice, and St. Martin.(464) Charlemagne was\nsaved, because the monasteries he had built outweighed his evil\ndeeds.(465) Others, who died in mortal sin, were raised from the dead at\nthe desire of their patron saint, to expiate their guilt. To amass relics,\nto acquire the patronage of saints, to endow monasteries, to build\nchurches, became the chief part of religion, and the more the terrors of\nthe unseen world were unfolded, the more men sought tranquillity by the\nconsolations of superstition.(466)\n\nThe extent to which the custom of materialising religion was carried, can\nonly be adequately realised by those who have examined the medi\u00e6val\nliterature itself. That which strikes a student in perusing this\nliterature, is not so much the existence of these superstitions, as their\nextraordinary multiplication, the many thousands of grotesque miracles\nwrought by saints, monasteries, or relics, that were deliberately asserted\nand universally believed. Christianity had assumed a form that was quite\nas polytheistic and quite as idolatrous as the ancient Paganism. The low\nlevel of intellectual cultivation, the religious feelings of\nhalf-converted barbarians, the interests of the clergy, the great social\nimportance of the monasteries, and perhaps also the custom of compounding\nfor nearly all crimes by pecuniary fines, which was so general in the\npenal system of the barbarian tribes, combined in their different ways,\nwith the panic created by the fear of hell, in driving men in the same\ndirection, and the wealth and power of the clergy rose to a point that\nenabled them to overshadow all other classes. They had found, as has been\nwell said, in another world, the standing-point of Archimedes from which\nthey could move this. No other system had ever appeared so admirably\nfitted to endure for ever. The Church had crushed or silenced every\nopponent in Christendom. It had an absolute control over education in all\nits branches and in all its stages. It had absorbed all the speculative\nknowledge and art of Europe. It possessed or commanded wealth, rank, and\nmilitary power. It had so directed its teaching, that everything which\nterrified or distressed mankind drove men speedily into its arms, and it\nhad covered Europe with a vast network of institutions, admirably adapted\nto extend and perpetuate its power. In addition to all this, it had\nguarded with consummate skill all the approaches to its citadel. Every\ndoubt was branded as a sin, and a long course of doubt must necessarily\nhave preceded the rejection of its tenets. All the avenues of enquiry were\npainted with images of appalling suffering, and of malicious d\u00e6mons. No\nsooner did the worshipper begin to question any article of faith, or to\nlose his confidence in the virtue of the ceremonies of his Church, than he\nwas threatened with a doom that no human heroism could brave, that no\nimagination could contemplate undismayed.\n\nOf all the suffering that was undergone by those brave men who in ages of\nignorance and superstition dared to break loose from the trammels of their\nChurch, and who laid the foundation of the liberty we now enjoy, it is\nthis which was probably the most poignant, and which is the least\nrealised. Our imaginations can reproduce with much vividness gigantic\nmassacres like those of the Albigenses or of St. Bartholomew. We can\nconceive, too, the tortures of the rack and of the boots, the dungeon, the\nscaffold, and the slow fire. We can estimate, though less perfectly, the\nanguish which the bold enquirer must have undergone from the desertion of\nthose he most dearly loved, from the hatred of mankind, from the malignant\ncalumnies that were heaped upon his name. But in the chamber of his own\nsoul, in the hours of his solitary meditation, he must have found elements\nof a suffering that was still more acute. Taught from his earliest\nchildhood to regard the abandonment of his hereditary opinions as the most\ndeadly of crimes, and to ascribe it to the instigation of deceiving\nd\u00e6mons, persuaded that if he died in a condition of doubt he must pass\ninto a state of everlasting torture, his imagination saturated with images\nof the most hideous and appalling anguish, he found himself alone in the\nworld, struggling with his difficulties and his doubts. There existed no\nrival sect in which he could take refuge, and where, in the professed\nagreement of many minds, he could forget the anathemas of the Church.\nPhysical science, that has disproved the theological theories which\nattribute death to human sin, and suffering to Divine vengeance, and all\nnatural phenomena to isolated acts of Divine intervention\u2014historical\ncriticism, which has dispelled so many imposing fabrics of belief, traced\nso many elaborate superstitions to the normal action of the undisciplined\nimagination, and explained and defined the successive phases of religious\nprogress, were both unknown. Every comet that blazed in the sky, every\npestilence that swept over the land, appeared a confirmation of the dark\nthreats of the theologian. A spirit of blind and abject credulity,\ninculcated as the first of duties, and exhibited on all subjects and in\nall forms, pervaded the atmosphere he breathed. Who can estimate aright\nthe obstacles against which a sincere enquirer in such an age must have\nstruggled? Who can conceive the secret anguish he must have endured in the\nlong months or years during which rival arguments gained an alternate sway\nover his judgment, while all doubt was still regarded as damnable? And\neven when his mind was convinced, his imagination would still often revert\nto his old belief. Our thoughts in after years flow spontaneously, and\neven unconsciously, in the channels that are formed in youth. In moments\nwhen the controlling judgment has relaxed its grasp, old intellectual\nhabits reassume their sway, and images painted on the imagination will\nlive, when the intellectual propositions on which they rested have been\nwholly abandoned. In hours of weakness, of sickness, and of drowsiness, in\nthe feverish and anxious moments that are known to all, when the mind\nfloats passively upon the stream, the phantoms which reason had exorcised\nmust have often reappeared, and the bitterness of an ancient tyranny must\nhave entered into his soul.\n\nIt is one of the greatest of the many services that were rendered to\nmankind by the Troubadours, that they cast such a flood of ridicule upon\nthe visions of hell, by which the monks had been accustomed to terrify\nmankind, that they completely discredited and almost suppressed them.(467)\nWhether, however, the Catholic mind, if unassisted by the literature of\nPaganism and by the independent thinkers who grew up under the shelter of\nMohammedanism, could have ever unwound the chains that had bound it, may\nwell be questioned. The growth of towns, which multiplied secular\ninterests and feelings, the revival of learning, the depression of the\necclesiastical classes that followed the crusades, and, at last, the\ndislocation of Christendom by the Reformation, gradually impaired the\necclesiastical doctrine, which ceased to be realised before it ceased to\nbe believed. There was, however, another doctrine which exercised a still\ngreater influence in augmenting the riches of the clergy, and in making\ndonations to the Church the chief part of religion. I allude, of course,\nto the doctrine of purgatory.\n\nA distinguished modern apologist for the middle ages has made this\ndoctrine the object of his special and very characteristic eulogy,\nbecause, as he says, by providing a finite punishment graduated to every\nvariety of guilt, and adapted for those who, without being sufficiently\nvirtuous to pass at once into heaven, did not appear sufficiently vicious\nto pass into hell, it formed an indispensable corrective to the extreme\nterrorism of the doctrine of eternal punishment.(468) This is one of those\ntheories which, though exceedingly popular with a class of writers who are\nnot without influence in our day, must appear, I think, almost grotesque\nto those who have examined the actual operation of the doctrine during the\nmiddle ages. According to the practical teaching of the Church, the\nexpiatory powers at the disposal of its clergy were so great, that those\nwho died believing its doctrines, and fortified in their last hours by its\nrites, had no cause whatever to dread the terrors of hell. On the other\nhand, those who died external to the Church had no prospect of entering\ninto purgatory. This latter was designed altogether for true believers; it\nwas chiefly preached at a time when no one was in the least disposed to\nquestion the powers of the Church to absolve any crime, however heinous,\nor to free the worst men from hell, and it was assuredly never regarded in\nthe light of a consolation. Indeed, the popular pictures of purgatory were\nso terrific that it may be doubted whether the imagination could ever\nfully realise, though the reason could easily recognise, the difference\nbetween this state and that of the lost. The fire of purgatory, according\nto the most eminent theologians, was like the fire of hell\u2014a literal fire,\nprolonged, it was sometimes said, for ages. The declamations of the pulpit\ndescribed the sufferings of the saved souls in purgatory as incalculably\ngreater than any that were endured by the most wretched mortals upon\nearth.(469) The rude artists of medi\u00e6valism exhausted their efforts in\ndepicting the writhings of the dead in the flames that encircled them.\nInnumerable visions detailed with a ghastly minuteness the various kinds\nof torture they underwent,(470) and the monk, who described what he\nprofessed to have seen, usually ended by the characteristic moral, that\ncould men only realise those sufferings, they would shrink from no\nsacrifice to rescue their friends from such a state. A special place, it\nwas said, was reserved in purgatory for those who had been slow in paying\ntheir tithes.(471) St. Gregory tells a curious story of a man who was, in\nother respects, of admirable virtue; but who, in a contested election for\nthe popedom, supported the wrong candidate, and without, as it would\nappear, in any degree refusing to obey the successful candidate when\nelected, continued secretly of opinion that the choice was an unwise one.\nHe was accordingly placed for some time after death in boiling water.(472)\nWhatever may be thought of its other aspects, it is impossible to avoid\nrecognising in this teaching a masterly skill in the adaptation of means\nto ends, which almost rises to artistic beauty. A system which deputed its\nminister to go to the unhappy widow in the first dark hour of her anguish\nand her desolation, to tell her that he who was dearer to her than all the\nworld besides was now burning in a fire, and that he could only be\nrelieved by a gift of money to the priests, was assuredly of its own kind\nnot without an extraordinary merit.\n\nIf we attempt to realise the moral condition of the society of Western\nEurope in the period that elapsed between the downfall of the Roman Empire\nand Charlemagne, during which the religious transformations I have noticed\nchiefly arose, we shall be met by some formidable difficulties. In the\nfirst place, our materials are very scanty. From the year A.D. 642, when\nthe meagre chronicle of Fredigarius closes, to the biography of\nCharlemagne by Eginhard, a century later, there is an almost complete\nblank in trustworthy history, and we are reduced to a few scanty and very\ndoubtful notices in the chronicles of monasteries, the lives of saints,\nand the decrees of Councils. All secular literature had almost\ndisappeared, and the thought of posterity seems to have vanished from the\nworld.(473) Of the first half of the seventh century, however, and of the\ntwo centuries that preceded it, we have much information from Gregory of\nTours, and Fredigarius, whose tedious and repulsive pages illustrate with\nconsiderable clearness the conflict of races and the dislocation of\ngovernments that for centuries existed. In Italy, the traditions and\nhabits of the old Empire had in some degree reasserted their sway; but in\nGaul the Church subsisted in the midst of barbarians, whose native vigour\nhad never been emasculated by civilisation and refined by knowledge. The\npicture which Gregory of Tours gives us is that of a society which was\nalmost absolutely anarchical. The mind is fatigued by the monotonous\naccount of acts of violence and of fraud springing from no fixed policy,\ntending to no end, leaving no lasting impress upon the world.(474) The two\nqueens Fr\u00e9d\u00e9gonde and Brunehaut rise conspicuous above other figures for\ntheir fierce and undaunted ambition, for the fascination they exercised\nover the minds of multitudes, and for the number and atrocity of their\ncrimes. All classes seem to have been almost equally tainted with vice. We\nread of a bishop named Cautinus, who had to be carried, when intoxicated,\nby four men from the table;(475) who, upon the refusal of one of his\npriests to surrender some private property, deliberately ordered that\npriest to be buried alive, and who, when the victim, escaping by a happy\nchance from the sepulchre in which he had been immured, revealed the\ncrime, received no greater punishment than a censure.(476) The worst\nsovereigns found flatterers or agents in ecclesiastics. Fr\u00e9d\u00e9gonde deputed\ntwo clerks to murder Childebert,(477) and another clerk to murder\nBrunehaut;(478) she caused a bishop of Rouen to be assassinated at the\naltar\u2014a bishop and an archdeacon being her accomplices;(479) and she found\nin another bishop, named \u00c6gidius, one of her most devoted instruments and\nfriends.(480) The pope, St. Gregory the Great, was an ardent flatterer of\nBrunehaut.(481) Gundebald, having murdered his three brothers, was\nconsoled by St. Avitus, the bishop of Vienne, who, without intimating the\nslightest disapprobation of the act, assured him that by removing his\nrivals he had been a providential agent in preserving the happiness of his\npeople.(482) The bishoprics were filled by men of notorious debauchery, or\nby grasping misers.(483) The priests sometimes celebrated the sacred\nmysteries \u201cgorged with food and dull with wine.\u201d(484) They had already\nbegun to carry arms, and Gregory tells of two bishops of the sixth century\nwho had killed many enemies with their own hands.(485) There was scarcely\na reign that was not marked by some atrocious domestic tragedy. There were\nfew sovereigns who were not guilty of at least one deliberate murder.\nNever, perhaps, was the infliction of mutilation, and prolonged and\nagonising forms of death, more common. We read, among other atrocities, of\na bishop being driven to a distant place of exile upon a bed of\nthorns;(486) of a king burning together his rebellious son, his\ndaughter-in-law, and their daughters;(487) of a queen condemning a\ndaughter she had had by a former marriage to be drowned, lest her beauty\nshould excite the passions of her husband;(488) of another queen\nendeavouring to strangle her daughter with her own hands;(489) of an\nabbot, compelling a poor man to abandon his house, that he might commit\nadultery with his wife, and being murdered, together with his partner, in\nthe act;(490) of a prince who made it an habitual amusement to torture his\nslaves with fire, and who buried two of them alive, because they had\nmarried without his permission;(491) of a bishop\u2019s wife, who, besides\nother crimes, was accustomed to mutilate men and to torture women, by\napplying red-hot irons to the most sensitive parts of their bodies;(492)\nof great numbers who were deprived of their ears and noses, tortured\nthrough several days, and at last burnt alive or broken slowly on the\nwheel. Brunehaut, at the close of her long and in some respects great\nthough guilty career, fell into the hands of Clotaire, and the old queen,\nhaving been subjected for three days to various kinds of torture, was led\nout on a camel for the derision of the army, and at last bound to the tail\nof a furious horse, and dashed to pieces in its course.(493)\n\nAnd yet this age was, in a certain sense, eminently religious. All\nliterature had become sacred. Heresy of every kind was rapidly expiring.\nThe priests and monks had acquired enormous power, and their wealth was\ninordinately increasing.(494) Several sovereigns voluntarily abandoned\ntheir thrones for the monastic life.(495) The seventh century, which,\ntogether with the eighth, forms the darkest period of the dark ages, is\nfamous in the hagiology as having produced more saints than any other\ncentury, except that of the martyrs.(496)\n\nThe manner in which events were regarded by historians was also\nexceedingly characteristic. Our principal authority, Gregory of Tours, was\na bishop of great eminence, and a man of the most genuine piety, and of\nvery strong affections.(497) He describes his work as a record \u201cof the\nvirtues of saints, and the disasters of nations;\u201d(498) and the student who\nturns to his pages from those of the Pagan historians, is not more struck\nby the extreme prominence he gives to ecclesiastical events, than by the\nuniform manner in which he views all secular events in their religious\naspect, as governed and directed by a special Providence. Yet, in\nquestions where the difference between orthodoxy and heterodoxy is\nconcerned, his ethics sometimes exhibit the most singular distortion. Of\nthis, probably the most impressive example is the manner in which he has\ndescribed the career of Clovis, the great representative of\northodoxy.(499) Having recounted the circumstances of his conversion,\nGregory proceeds to tell us, with undisguised admiration, how that\nchieftain, as the first-fruits of his doctrine, professed to be grieved at\nseeing that part of Gaul was held by an Arian sovereign; how he\naccordingly resolved to invade and appropriate that territory; how, with\nadmirable piety, he commanded his soldiers to abstain from all\ndevastations when traversing the territory of St. Martin, and how several\nmiracles attested the Divine approbation of the expedition. The war\u2014which\nis the first of the long series of professedly religious wars that have\nbeen undertaken by Christians\u2014was fully successful, and Clovis proceeded\nto direct his ambition to new fields. In his expedition against the\nArians, he had found a faithful ally in his relative Sighebert, the old\nand infirm king of the Ripuarian Franks. Clovis now proceeded artfully to\nsuggest to the son of Sighebert the advantages that son might obtain by\nhis father\u2019s death. The hint was taken. Sighebert was murdered, and Clovis\nsent ambassadors to the parricide, professing a warm friendship, but with\nsecret orders on the first opportunity to kill him. This being done, and\nthe kingdom being left entirely without a head, Clovis proceeded to\nCologne, the capital of Sighebert; he assembled the people, professed with\nmuch solemnity his horror of the tragedies that had taken place, and his\ncomplete innocence of all connection with them;(500) but suggested that,\nas they were now without a ruler, they should place themselves under his\nprotection. The proposition was received with acclamation. The warriors\nelected him as their king, and thus, says the episcopal historian, \u201cClovis\nreceived the treasures and dominions of Sighebert, and added them to his\nown. Every day God caused his enemies to fall beneath his hand, and\nenlarged his kingdom, because he walked with a right heart before the\nLord, and did the things that were pleasing in His sight.\u201d(501) His\nambition was, however, still unsated. He proceeded, in a succession of\nexpeditions, to unite the whole of Gaul under his sceptre, invading,\ndefeating, capturing, and slaying the lawful sovereigns, who were for the\nmost part his own relations. Having secured himself against dangers from\nwithout, by killing all his relations, with the exception of his wife and\nchildren, he is reported to have lamented before his courtiers his\nisolation, declaring that he had no relations remaining in the world to\nassist him in his adversity; but this speech, Gregory assures us, was a\nstratagem; for the king desired to discover whether any possible pretender\nto the throne had escaped his knowledge and his sword. Soon after, he\ndied, full of years and honours, and was buried in a cathedral which he\nhad built.\n\nHaving recounted all these things with unmoved composure, Gregory of Tours\nrequests his reader to permit him to pause, to draw the moral of the\nhistory. It is the admirable manner in which Providence guides all things\nfor the benefit of those whose opinions concerning the Trinity are\nstrictly orthodox. Having briefly referred to Abraham, Jacob, Moses,\nAaron, and David, all of whom are said to have intimated the correct\ndoctrine on this subject, and all of whom were exceedingly prosperous, he\npasses to more modern times. \u201cArius, the impious founder of the impious\nsect, his entrails having fallen out, passed into the flames of hell; but\nHilary, the blessed defender of the undivided Trinity, though exiled on\nthat account, found his country in Paradise. The King Clovis, who\nconfessed the Trinity, and by its assistance crushed the heretics,\nextended his dominions through all Gaul. Alaric, who denied the Trinity,\nwas deprived of his kingdom and his subjects, and, what was far worse, was\npunished in the future world.\u201d(502)\n\nIt would be easy to cite other, though perhaps not quite such striking,\ninstances of the degree in which the moral judgments of this unhappy age\nwere distorted by superstition.(503) Questions of orthodoxy, or questions\nof fasting, appeared to the popular mind immeasurably more important than\nwhat we should now call the fundamental principles of right and wrong. A\nlaw of Charlemagne, and also a law of the Saxons, condemned to death any\none who ate meat in Lent,(504) unless the priest was satisfied that it was\na matter of absolute necessity. The moral enthusiasm of the age chiefly\ndrove men to abandon their civic or domestic duties, to immure themselves\nin monasteries, and to waste their strength by prolonged and extravagant\nmaceration.(505) Yet, in the midst of all this superstition, there can be\nno question that in some respects the religious agencies were operating\nfor good. The monastic bodies that everywhere arose, formed secure asylums\nfor the multitudes who had been persecuted by their enemies, constituted\nan invaluable counterpoise to the rude military forces of the time,\nfamiliarised the imagination of men with religious types that could hardly\nfail in some degree to soften the character, and led the way in most forms\nof peaceful labour. When men, filled with admiration at the reports of the\nsanctity and the miracles of some illustrious saint, made pilgrimages to\nbehold him, and found him attired in the rude garb of a peasant, with\nthick shoes, and with a scythe on his shoulder, superintending the labours\nof the farmers,(506) or sitting in a small attic mending lamps,(507)\nwhatever other benefit they might derive from the interview, they could\nscarcely fail to return with an increased sense of the dignity of labour.\nIt was probably at this time as much for the benefit of the world as of\nthe Church, that the ecclesiastical sanctuaries and estates should remain\ninviolate, and the numerous legends of Divine punishment having overtaken\nthose who transgressed them,(508) attest the zeal with which the clergy\nsought to establish that inviolability. The great sanctity that was\nattached to holidays was also an important boon to the servile classes.\nThe celebration of the first day of the week, in commemoration of the\nresurrection, and as a period of religious exercises, dates from the\nearliest age of the Church. The Christian festival was carefully\ndistinguished from the Jewish Sabbath, with which it never appears to have\nbeen confounded till the close of the sixteenth century; but some Jewish\nconverts, who considered the Jewish law to be still in force, observed\nboth days. In general, however, the Christian festival alone was observed,\nand the Jewish Sabbatical obligation, as St. Paul most explicitly affirms,\nno longer rested upon the Christians. The grounds of the observance of\nSunday were the manifest propriety and expediency of devoting a certain\nportion of time to devout exercises, the tradition which traced the\nsanctification of Sunday to apostolic times, and the right of the Church\nto appoint certain seasons to be kept holy by its members. When\nChristianity acquired an ascendancy in the Empire, its policy on this\nsubject was manifested in one of the laws of Constantine, which, without\nmaking any direct reference to religious motives, ordered that, \u201con the\nday of the sun,\u201d no servile work should be performed except agriculture,\nwhich, being dependent on the weather, could not, it was thought, be\nreasonably postponed. Theodosius took a step further, and suppressed the\npublic spectacles on that day. During the centuries that immediately\nfollowed the dissolution of the Roman Empire, the clergy devoted\nthemselves with great and praiseworthy zeal to the suppression of labour\nboth on Sundays and on the other leading Church holidays. More than one\nlaw was made, forbidding all Sunday labour, and this prohibition was\nreiterated by Charlemagne in his Capitularies.(509) Several Councils made\ndecrees on the subject,(510) and several legends were circulated, of men\nwho had been afflicted miraculously with disease or with death, for having\nbeen guilty of this sin.(511) Although the moral side of religion was\ngreatly degraded or forgotten, there was, as I have already intimated, one\nimportant exception. Charity was so interwoven with the superstitious\nparts of ecclesiastical teaching, that it continued to grow and nourish in\nthe darkest period. Of the acts of Queen Bathilda, it is said we know\nnothing except her donations to the monasteries, and the charity with\nwhich she purchased slaves and captives, and released them or converted\nthem into monks.(512) While many of the bishops were men of gross and\nscandalous vice, there were always some who laboured assiduously in the\nold episcopal vocation of protecting the oppressed, interceding for the\ncaptives, and opening their sanctuaries to the fugitives. St. Germanus, a\nbishop of Paris, near the close of the sixth century, was especially\nfamous for his zeal in ransoming captives.(513) The fame he acquired was\nso great, that prisoners are said to have called upon him to assist them,\nin the interval between his death and his burial; and the body of the\nsaint becoming miraculously heavy, it was found impossible to carry it to\nthe grave till the captives had been released.(514) In the midst of the\ncomplete eclipse of all secular learning, in the midst of a reign of\nignorance, imposture, and credulity which cannot be paralleled in history,\nthere grew up a vast legendary literature, clustering around the form of\nthe ascetic; and the lives of the saints, among very much that is\ngrotesque, childish, and even immoral, contain some fragments of the\npurest and most touching religious poetry.(515)\n\nBut the chief title of the period we are considering, to the indulgence of\nposterity, lies in its missionary labours. The stream of missionaries\nwhich had at first flowed from Palestine and Italy began to flow from the\nWest. The Irish monasteries furnished the earliest, and probably the most\nnumerous, labourers in the field. A great portion of the north of England\nwas converted by the Irish monks of Lindisfarne. The fame of St.\nColumbanus in Gaul, in Germany, and in Italy, for a time even balanced\nthat of St. Benedict himself, and the school which he founded at Luxeuil\nbecame the great seminary for medi\u00e6val missionaries, while the monastery\nhe planted at Bobbio continued to the present century. The Irish\nmissionary, St. Gall, gave his name to a portion of Switzerland he had\nconverted, and a crowd of other Irish missionaries penetrated to the\nremotest forests of Germany. The movement which began with St. Columba in\nthe middle of the sixth century, was communicated to England and Gaul\nabout a century later. Early in the eighth century it found a great leader\nin the Anglo-Saxon St. Boniface, who spread Christianity far and wide\nthrough Germany, and at once excited and disciplined an ardent enthusiasm,\nwhich appears to have attracted all that was morally best in the Church.\nDuring about three centuries, and while Europe had sunk into the most\nextreme moral, intellectual, and political degradation, a constant stream\nof missionaries poured forth from the monasteries, who spread the\nknowledge of the Cross and the seeds of a future civilisation through\nevery land, from Lombardy to Sweden.(516)\n\nOn the whole, however, it would be difficult to exaggerate the\nsuperstition and the vice of the period between the dissolution of the\nEmpire and the reign of Charlemagne. But in the midst of the chaos the\nelements of a new society may be detected, and we may already observe in\nembryo the movement which ultimately issued in the crusades, the feudal\nsystem, and chivalry. It is exclusively with the moral aspect of this\nmovement that the present work is concerned, and I shall endeavour, in the\nremainder of this chapter, to describe and explain its incipient stages.\nIt consisted of two parts\u2014a fusion of Christianity with the military\nspirit, and an increasing reverence for secular rank.\n\nIt had been an ancient maxim of the Greeks, that no more acceptable gifts\ncan be offered in the temples of the gods, than the trophies won from an\nenemy in battle.(517) Of this military religion Christianity had been at\nfirst the extreme negation. I have already had occasion to observe that it\nhad been one of its earliest rules that no arms should be introduced\nwithin the church, and that soldiers returning even from the most\nrighteous war should not be admitted to communion until after a period of\npenance and purification. A powerful party, which counted among its\nleaders Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian, Origen, Lactantius, and Basil,\nmaintained that all warfare was unlawful for those who had been converted;\nand this opinion had its martyr in the celebrated Maximilianus, who\nsuffered death under Diocletian solely because, having been enrolled as a\nsoldier, he declared that he was a Christian, and that therefore he could\nnot fight. The extent to which this doctrine was disseminated has been\nsuggested with much plausibility as one of the causes of the Diocletian\npersecution.(518) It was the subject of one of the reproaches of Celsus;\nand Origen, in reply, frankly accepted the accusation that Christianity\nwas incompatible with military service, though he maintained that the\nprayers of the Christians were more efficacious than the swords of the\nlegions.(519) At the same time, there can be no question that many\nChristians, from a very early date, did enlist in the army, and that they\nwere not cut off from the Church. The legend of the thundering legion,\nunder Marcus Aurelius, whatever we may think of the pretended miracle,\nattested the fact, and it is expressly asserted by Tertullian.(520) The\nfirst fury of the Diocletian persecution fell upon Christian soldiers, and\nby the time of Constantine the army appears to have become, in a great\ndegree, Christian. A Council of Arles, under Constantine, condemned\nsoldiers who, through religious motives, deserted their colours; and St.\nAugustine threw his great influence into the same scale. But even where\nthe calling was not regarded as sinful, it was strongly discouraged. The\nideal or type of supreme excellence conceived by the imagination of the\nPagan world and to which all their purest moral enthusiasm naturally\naspired, was the patriot and soldier. The ideal of the Catholic legends\nwas the ascetic, whose first duty was to abandon all secular feelings and\nties. In most family circles the conflict between the two principles\nappeared, and in the moral atmosphere of the fourth and fifth centuries it\nwas almost certain that every young man who was animated by any pure or\ngenuine enthusiasm would turn from the army to the monks. St. Martin, St.\nFerreol, St. Tarrachus, and St. Victricius, were among those who through\nreligious motives abandoned the army.(521) When Ulphilas translated the\nBible into Gothic, he is said to have excepted the four books of Kings,\nthrough fear that they might encourage the martial disposition of the\nbarbarians.(522)\n\nThe first influence that contributed to bring the military profession into\nfriendly connection with religion was the received doctrine concerning the\nProvidential government of affairs. It was generally taught that all\nnational catastrophes were penal inflictions, resulting, for the most\npart, from the vices or the religious errors of the leading men, and that\ntemporal prosperity was the reward of orthodoxy and virtue. A great\nbattle, on the issue of which the fortunes of a people or of a monarch\ndepended, was therefore supposed to be the special occasion of\nProvidential interposition, and the hope of obtaining military success\nbecame one of the most frequent motives of conversion. The conversion of\nConstantine was professedly, and the conversion of Clovis was perhaps\nreally, due to the persuasion that the Divine interposition had in a\ncritical moment given them the victory; and I have already noticed how\nlarge a part must be assigned to this order of ideas in facilitating the\nprogress of Christianity among the barbarians. When a cross was said to\nhave appeared miraculously to Constantine, with an inscription announcing\nthe victory of the Milvian bridge; when the same holy sign, adorned with\nthe sacred monogram, was carried in the forefront of the Roman armies;\nwhen the nails of the cross, which Helena had brought from Jerusalem, were\nconverted by the emperor into a helmet, and into bits for his war-horse,\nit was evident that a great change was passing over the once pacific\nspirit of the Church.(523)\n\nMany circumstances conspired to accelerate it. Northern tribes, who had\nbeen taught that the gates of the Walhalla were ever open to the warrior\nwho presented himself stained with the blood of his vanquished enemies,\nwere converted to Christianity; but they carried their old feelings into\ntheir new creed. The conflict of many races, and the paralysis of all\ngovernment that followed the fall of the Empire, made force everywhere\ndominant, and petty wars incessant. The military obligations attached to\nthe \u201cbenefices\u201d which the sovereigns gave to their leading chiefs,\nconnected the idea of military service with that of rank still more\nclosely than it had been connected before, and rendered it doubly\nhonourable in the eyes of men. Many bishops and abbots, partly from the\nturbulence of their times and characters, and partly, at a later period,\nfrom their position as great feudal lords, were accustomed to lead their\nfollowers in battle; and this custom, though prohibited by Charlemagne,\nmay be traced to so late a period as the battle of Agincourt.(524)\n\nThe stigma which Christianity had attached to war was thus gradually\neffaced. At the same time, the Church remained, on the whole, a pacific\ninfluence. War was rather condoned than consecrated, and, whatever might\nbe the case with a few isolated prelates, the Church did nothing to\nincrease or encourage it. The transition from the almost Quaker tenets of\nthe primitive Church to the essentially military Christianity of the\nCrusades was chiefly due to another cause\u2014to the terrors and to the\nexample of Mohammedanism.\n\nThis great religion, which so long rivalled the influence of Christianity,\nhad indeed spread the deepest and most justifiable panic through\nChristendom. Without any of those aids to the imagination which pictures\nand images can furnish, without any elaborate sacerdotal organisation,\npreaching the purest Monotheism among ignorant and barbarous men, and\ninculcating, on the whole, an extremely high and noble system of morals,\nit spread with a rapidity and it acquired a hold over the minds of its\nvotaries, which it is probable that no other religion has altogether\nequalled. It borrowed from Christianity that doctrine of salvation by\nbelief, which is perhaps the most powerful impulse that can be applied to\nthe characters of masses of men, and it elaborated so minutely the charms\nof its sensual heaven, and the terrors of its material hell, as to cause\nthe alternative to appeal with unrivalled force to the gross imaginations\nof the people. It possessed a book which, however inferior to that of the\nopposing religion, has nevertheless been the consolation and the support\nof millions in many ages. It taught a fatalism which in its first age\nnerved its adherents with a matchless military courage, and which, though\nin later days it has often paralysed their active energies, has also\nrarely failed to support them under the pressure of inevitable calamity.\nBut, above all, it discovered the great, the fatal secret of uniting\nindissolubly the passion of the soldier with the passion of the devotee.\nMaking the conquest of the infidel the first of duties, and proposing\nheaven as the certain reward of the valiant soldier, it created a blended\nenthusiasm that soon overpowered the divided counsels and the voluptuous\ngovernments of the East, and, within a century of the death of Mohammed,\nhis followers had almost extirpated Christianity from its original home,\nfounded great monarchies in Asia and Africa, planted a noble, though\ntransient and exotic, civilisation in Spain, menaced the capital of the\nEastern empire, and, but for the issue of a single battle, they would\nprobably have extended their sceptre over the energetic and progressive\nraces of Central Europe. The wave was broken by Charles Martel, at the\nbattle of Poitiers, and it is now useless to speculate what might have\nbeen the consequences had Mohammedanism unfurled its triumphant banner\namong those Teutonic tribes who have so often changed their creed, and on\nwhom the course of civilisation has so largely depended. But one great\nchange was in fact achieved. The spirit of Mohammedanism slowly passed\ninto Christianity, and transformed it into its image. The spectacle of an\nessentially military religion fascinated men who were at once very warlike\nand very superstitious. The panic that had palsied Europe was after a long\ninterval succeeded by a fierce reaction of resentment. Pride and religion\nconspired to urge the Christian warriors against those who had so often\ndefeated the armies and wasted the territory of Christendom, who had shorn\nthe empire of the Cross of many of its fairest provinces, and profaned\nthat holy city which was venerated not only for its past associations, but\nalso for the spiritual blessings it could still bestow upon the pilgrim.\nThe papal indulgences proved not less efficacious in stimulating the\nmilitary spirit than the promises of Mohammed, and for about two centuries\nevery pulpit in Christendom proclaimed the duty of war with the\nunbeliever, and represented the battle-field as the sure path to heaven.\nThe religious orders which arose united the character of the priest with\nthat of the warrior, and when, at the hour of sunset, the soldier knelt\ndown to pray before his cross, that cross was the handle of his sword.\n\nIt would be impossible to conceive a more complete transformation than\nChristianity had thus undergone, and it is melancholy to contrast with its\naspect during the crusades the impression it had once most justly made\nupon the world, as the spirit of gentleness and of peace encountering the\nspirit of violence and war. Among the many curious habits of the Pagan\nIrish, one of the most significant was that of perpendicular burial. With\na feeling something like that which induced Vespasian to declare that a\nRoman emperor should die standing, the Pagan warriors shrank from the\nnotion of being prostrate even in death, and they appear to have regarded\nthis martial burial as a special symbol of Paganism. An old Irish\nmanuscript tells how, when Christianity had been introduced into Ireland,\na king of Ulster on his deathbed charged his son never to become a\nChristian, but to be buried standing upright like a man in battle, with\nhis face for ever turned to the south, defying the men of Leinster.(525)\nAs late as the sixteenth century, it is said that in some parts of Ireland\nchildren were baptised by immersion; but the right arms of the males were\ncarefully held above the water, in order that, not having been dipped in\nthe sacred stream, they might strike the more deadly blow.(526)\n\nIt had been boldly predicted by some of the early Christians that the\nconversion of the world would lead to the establishment of perpetual\npeace. In looking back, with our present experience, we are driven to the\nmelancholy conclusion that, instead of diminishing the number of wars,\necclesiastical influence has actually and very seriously increased it. We\nmay look in vain for any period since Constantine, in which the clergy, as\na body, exerted themselves to repress the military spirit, or to prevent\nor abridge a particular war, with an energy at all comparable to that\nwhich they displayed in stimulating the fanaticism of the crusaders, in\nproducing the atrocious massacre of the Albigenses, in embittering the\nreligious contests that followed the Reformation. Private wars were, no\ndoubt, in some degree repressed by their influence; for the institution of\nthe \u201cTruce of God\u201d was for a time of much value, and when, towards the\nclose of the middle ages, the custom of duels arose, it was strenuously\ncondemned by the clergy; but we can hardly place any great value on their\nexertions in this field, when we remember that duels were almost or\naltogether unknown to the Pagan world; that, having arisen in a period of\ngreat superstition, the anathemas of the Church were almost impotent to\ndiscourage them; and that in our own century they are rapidly disappearing\nbefore the simple censure of an industrial society. It is possible\u2014though\nit would, I imagine, be difficult to prove it\u2014that the mediatorial office,\nso often exercised by bishops, may sometimes have prevented wars; and it\nis certain that during the period of the religious wars, so much military\nspirit existed in Europe that it must necessarily have found a vent, and\nunder no circumstances could the period have been one of perfect peace.\nBut when all these qualifications have been fully admitted, the broad fact\nwill remain, that, with the exception of Mohammedanism, no other religion\nhas done so much to produce war as was done by the religious teachers of\nChristendom during several centuries. The military fanaticism evoked by\nthe indulgences of the popes, by the exhortations of the pulpit, by the\nreligious importance attached to the relics at Jerusalem, and by the\nprevailing hatred of misbelievers, has scarcely ever been equalled in its\nintensity, and it has caused the effusion of oceans of blood, and has been\nproductive of incalculable misery to the world. Religious fanaticism was a\nmain cause of the earlier wars, and an important ingredient in the later\nones. The peace principles, that were so common before Constantine, have\nfound scarcely any echo except from Erasmus, the Anabaptists, and the\nQuakers;(527) and although some very important pacific agencies have\narisen out of the industrial progress of modern times, these have been,\nfor the most part, wholly unconnected with, and have in some cases been\ndirectly opposed to, theological interests.\n\nBut although theological influences cannot reasonably be said to have\ndiminished the number of wars, they have had a very real and beneficial\neffect in diminishing their atrocity. On few subjects have the moral\nopinions of different ages exhibited so marked a variation as in their\njudgments of what punishment may justly be imposed on a conquered enemy,\nand these variations have often been cited as an argument against those\nwho believe in the existence of natural moral perceptions. To those,\nhowever, who accept that doctrine, with the limitations that have been\nstated in the first chapter, they can cause no perplexity. In the first\ndawning of the human intelligence (as I have said) the notion of duty, as\ndistinguished from that of interest, appears, and the mind, in reviewing\nthe various emotions by which it is influenced, recognises the unselfish\nand benevolent motives as essentially and generically superior to the\nselfish and the cruel. But it is the general condition of society alone\nthat determines the standard of benevolence\u2014the classes towards which\nevery good man will exercise it. At first, the range of duty is the\nfamily, the tribe, the state, the confederation. Within these limits every\nman feels himself under moral obligations to those about him; but he\nregards the outer world as we regard wild animals, as beings upon whom he\nmay justifiably prey. Hence, we may explain the curious fact that the\nterms brigand or corsair conveyed in the early stages of society no notion\nof moral guilt.(528) Such men were looked upon simply as we look upon\nhuntsmen, and if they displayed courage and skill in their pursuit, they\nwere deemed fit subjects for admiration. Even in the writings of the most\nenlightened philosophers of Greece, war with barbarians is represented as\na form of chase, and the simple desire of obtaining the barbarians as\nslaves was considered a sufficient reason for invading them. The right of\nthe conqueror to kill his captives was generally recognised, nor was it at\nfirst restricted by any considerations of age or sex. Several instances\nare recorded of Greek and other cities being deliberately destroyed by\nGreeks or by Romans, and the entire populations ruthlessly massacred.(529)\nThe whole career of the early republic of Rome, though much idealised and\ntransfigured by later historians, was probably governed by these\nprinciples.(530) The normal fate of the captive, which, among barbarians,\nhad been death, was, in civilised antiquity, slavery; but many thousands\nwere condemned to the gladiatorial shows, and the vanquished general was\ncommonly slain in the Mamertine prison, while his conqueror ascended in\ntriumph to the Capitol.\n\nA few traces of a more humane spirit may, it is true, be discovered. Plato\nhad advocated the liberation of all Greek prisoners upon payment of a\nfixed ransom,(531) and the Spartan general Callicratidas had nobly acted\nupon this principle;(532) but his example never appears to have been\ngenerally followed. In Rome, the notion of international obligation was\nvery strongly felt. No war was considered just which had not been\nofficially declared; and even in the case of wars with barbarians, the\nRoman historians often discuss the sufficiency or insufficiency of the\nmotives, with a conscientious severity a modern historian could hardly\nsurpass.(533) The later Greek and Latin writings occasionally contain\nmaxims which exhibit a considerable progress in this sphere. The sole\nlegitimate object of war, both Cicero and Sallust declared to be an\nassured peace. That war, according to Tacitus, ends well which ends with a\npardon. Pliny refused to apply the epithet great to C\u00e6sar, on account of\nthe torrents of human blood he had shed. Two Roman conquerors(534) are\ncredited with the saying that it is better to save the life of one citizen\nthan to destroy a thousand enemies. Marcus Aurelius mournfully assimilated\nthe career of a conqueror to that of a simple robber. Nations or armies\nwhich voluntarily submitted to Rome were habitually treated with great\nleniency, and numerous acts of individual magnanimity are recorded. The\nviolation of the chastity of conquered women by soldiers in a siege was\ndenounced as a rare and atrocious crime.(535) The extreme atrocities of\nancient war appear at last to have been practically, though not legally,\nrestricted to two classes.(536) Cities where Roman ambassadors had been\ninsulted, or where some special act of ill faith or cruelty had taken\nplace, were razed to the ground, and their populations massacred or\ndelivered into slavery. Barbarian prisoners were regarded almost as wild\nbeasts, and sent in thousands to fill the slave market or to combat in the\narena.\n\nThe changes Christianity effected in the rights of war were very\nimportant, and they may, I think, be comprised under three heads. In the\nfirst place, it suppressed the gladiatorial shows, and thereby saved\nthousands of captives from a bloody death. In the next place, it steadily\ndiscouraged the practice of enslaving prisoners, ransomed immense\nmultitudes with charitable contributions, and by slow and insensible\ngradations proceeded on its path of mercy till it became a recognised\nprinciple of international law, that no Christian prisoners should be\nreduced to slavery.(537) In the third place, it had a more indirect but\nvery powerful influence by the creation of a new warlike ideal. The ideal\nknight of the Crusades and of chivalry, uniting all the force and fire of\nthe ancient warrior, with something of the tenderness and humility of the\nChristian saint, sprang from the conjunction of the two streams of\nreligious and of military feeling; and although this ideal, like all\nothers, was a creation of the imagination not often perfectly realised in\nlife, yet it remained the type and model of warlike excellence, to which\nmany generations aspired; and its softening influence may even now be\nlargely traced in the character of the modern gentleman.\n\n                  \u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\u2010\n\nTogether with the gradual fusion of the military spirit with Christianity,\nwe may dimly descry, in the period before Charlemagne, the first stages of\nthat consecration of secular rank which at a later period, in the forms of\nchivalry, the divine right of kings, and the reverence for aristocracies,\nplayed so large a part both in moral and in political history.\n\nWe have already seen that the course of events in the Roman Empire had\nbeen towards the continual aggrandisement of the imperial power. The\nrepresentative despotism of Augustus was at last succeeded by the oriental\ndespotism of Diocletian. The senate sank into a powerless assembly of\nimperial nominees, and the spirit of Roman freedom wholly perished with\nthe extinction of Stoicism.\n\nIt would probably be a needless refinement to seek any deeper causes for\nthis change than may be found in the ordinary principles of human nature.\nDespotism is the normal and legitimate government of an early society in\nwhich knowledge has not yet developed the powers of the people; but when\nit is introduced into a civilised community, it is of the nature of a\ndisease, and a disease which, unless it be checked, has a continual\ntendency to spread. When free nations abdicate their political functions,\nthey gradually lose both the capacity and the desire for freedom.\nPolitical talent and ambition, having no sphere for action, steadily\ndecay, and servile, enervating, and vicious habits proportionately\nincrease. Nations are organic beings in a constant process of expansion or\ndecay, and where they do not exhibit a progress of liberty they usually\nexhibit a progress of servitude.\n\nIt can hardly be asserted that Christianity had much influence upon this\nchange. By accelerating in some degree that withdrawal of the virtuous\nenergies of the people from the sphere of government which had long been\nin process, it prevented the great improvement of morals, which it\nundoubtedly effected, from appearing perceptibly in public affairs. It\ntaught a doctrine of passive obedience, which its disciples nobly observed\nin the worst periods of persecution. On the other hand, the Christians\nemphatically repudiated the ascription of Divine honours to the sovereign,\nand they asserted with heroic constancy their independent worship, in\ndefiance of the law. After the time of Constantine, however, their zeal\nbecame far less pure, and sectarian interests wholly governed their\nprinciples. Much misapplied learning has been employed in endeavouring to\nextract from the Fathers a consistent doctrine concerning the relations of\nsubjects to their sovereigns; but every impartial observer may discover\nthat the principle upon which they acted was exceedingly simple. When a\nsovereign was sufficiently orthodox in his opinions, and sufficiently\nzealous in patronising the Church and in persecuting the heretics, he was\nextolled as an angel. When his policy was opposed to the Church, he was\nrepresented as a d\u00e6mon. The estimate which Gregory of Tours has given of\nthe character of Clovis, though far more frank, is not a more striking\ninstance of moral perversion than the fulsome and indeed blasphemous\nadulation which Eusebius poured upon Constantine\u2014a sovereign whose\ncharacter was at all times of the most mingled description, and who,\nshortly after his conversion, put to a violent death his son, his nephew,\nand his wife. If we were to estimate the attitude of ecclesiastics to\nsovereigns by the language of Eusebius, we should suppose that they\nascribed to them a direct Divine inspiration, and exalted the Imperial\ndignity to an extent that was before unknown.(538) But when Julian mounted\nthe throne, the whole aspect of the Church was changed. This great and\nvirtuous, though misguided sovereign, whose private life was a model of\npurity, who carried to the throne the manners, tastes, and friendships of\na philosophic life, and who proclaimed and, with very slight exceptions,\nacted with the largest and most generous toleration, was an enemy of the\nChurch, and all the vocabulary of invective was in consequence habitually\nlavished upon him. Ecclesiastics and laymen combined in insulting him, and\nwhen, after a brief but glorious reign of less than two years, he met an\nhonourable death on the battle-field, neither the disaster that had\nbefallen the Roman arms, nor the present dangers of the army, nor the\nheroic courage which the fallen emperor had displayed, nor the majestic\ntranquillity of his end, nor the tears of his faithful friends, could\nshame the Christian community into the decency of silence. A peal of\nbrutal merriment filled the land. In Antioch the Christians assembled in\nthe theatres and in the churches, to celebrate with rejoicing the death\nwhich their emperor had met in fighting against the enemies of his\ncountry.(539) A crowd of vindictive legends expressed the exultation of\nthe Church,(540) and St. Gregory Nazianzen devoted his eloquence to\nimmortalising it. His brother had at one time been a high official in the\nEmpire, and had fearlessly owned his Christianity under Julian; but that\nemperor not only did not remove him from his post, but even honoured him\nwith his warm friendship.(541) The body of Julian had been laid but a\nshort time in the grave, when St. Gregory delivered two fierce invectives\nagainst his memory, collected the grotesque calumnies that had been heaped\nupon his character, expressed a regret that his remains had not been flung\nafter death into the common sewer, and regaled the hearers by an emphatic\nassertion of the tortures that were awaiting him in hell. Among the Pagans\na charge of the gravest kind was brought against the Christians. It was\nsaid that Julian died by the spear, not of an enemy, but of one of his own\nChristian soldiers. When we remember that he was at once an emperor and a\ngeneral, that he fell when bravely and confidently leading his army in the\nfield, and in the critical moment of a battle on which the fortunes of the\nEmpire largely depended, this charge, which Libanius has made, appears to\ninvolve as large an amount of base treachery as any that can be conceived.\nIt was probably a perfectly groundless calumny; but the manner in which it\nwas regarded among the Christians is singularly characteristic.\n\u201cLibanius,\u201d says one of the ecclesiastical historians, \u201cclearly states\nthat the emperor fell by the hand of a Christian; and this, probably, was\nthe truth. It is not unlikely that some of the soldiers who then served in\nthe Roman army might have conceived the idea of acting like the ancient\nslayers of tyrants who exposed themselves to death in the cause of\nliberty, and fought in defence of their country, their families, and their\nfriends, and whose names are held in universal admiration. Still less is\nhe deserving of blame who, for the sake of God and of religion, performed\nso bold a deed.\u201d(542)\n\nIt may be asserted, I think, without exaggeration, that the complete\nsubordination of all other principles to their theological interests,\nwhich characterised the ecclesiastics under Julian, continued for many\ncenturies. No language of invective was too extreme to be applied to a\nsovereign who opposed their interests. No language of adulation was too\nextravagant for a sovereign who sustained them. Of all the emperors who\ndisgraced the throne of Constantinople, the most odious and ferocious was\nprobably Phocas. An obscure centurion, he rose by a military revolt to the\nsupreme power, and the Emperor Maurice, with his family, fell into his\nhands. He resolved to put the captive emperor to death; but, first of all,\nhe ordered his five children to be brought out and to be successively\nmurdered before the eyes of their father, who bore the awful sight with a\nfine mixture of antique heroism and of Christian piety, murmuring, as each\nchild fell beneath the knife of the assassin, \u201cThou art just, O Lord, and\nrighteous are Thy judgments,\u201d and even interposing, at the last moment, to\nreveal the heroic fraud of the nurse who desired to save his youngest\nchild by substituting for it her own. But Maurice\u2014who had been a weak and\navaricious rather than a vicious sovereign\u2014had shown himself jealous of\nthe influence of the Pope, had forbidden the soldiers, during the extreme\ndanger of their country, deserting their colours to enrol themselves as\nmonks, and had even encouraged the pretensions of the Archbishop of\nConstantinople to the title of Universal Bishop; and, in the eyes of the\nRoman priests, the recollection of these crimes was sufficient to excuse\nthe most brutal of murders. In two letters, full of passages from\nScripture, and replete with fulsome and blasphemous flattery, the Pope,\nSt. Gregory the Great, wrote to congratulate Phocas and his wife upon\ntheir triumph; he called heaven and earth to rejoice over them; he placed\ntheir images to be venerated in the Lateran, and he adroitly insinuated\nthat it was impossible that, with their well-known piety, they could fail\nto be very favourable to the See of Peter.(543)\n\nThe course of events in relation to the monarchical power was for some\ntime different in the East and the West. Constantine had himself assumed\nmore of the pomp and manner of an oriental sovereign than any preceding\nemperor, and the court of Constantinople was soon characterised by an\nextravagance of magnificence on the part of the monarch, and of adulation\non the part of the subjects, which has probably never been exceeded.(544)\nThe imperial power in the East overshadowed the ecclesiastical, and the\npriests, notwithstanding their fierce outbreak during the iconoclastic\ncontroversy, and a few minor paroxysms of revolt, gradually sank into that\ncontented subservience which has usually characterised the Eastern Church.\nIn the West, however, the Roman bishops were in a great degree independent\nof the sovereigns, and in some degree opposed to their interests. The\ntransfer of the imperial power to Constantinople, by leaving the Roman\nbishops the chief personages in a city which long association as well as\nactual power rendered the foremost in the world, was one of the great\ncauses of the aggrandisement of the Papacy and the Arianism of many\nsovereigns, the jealousy which others exhibited of ecclesiastical\nencroachments, and the lukewarmness of a few in persecuting heretics, were\nall causes of dissension. On the severance of the Empire, the Western\nChurch came in contact with rulers of another type. The barbarian kings\nwere little more than military chiefs, elected for the most part by the\npeople, surrounded by little or no special sanctity, and maintaining their\nprecarious and very restricted authority by their courage or their skill.\nA few feebly imitated the pomp of the Roman emperors, but their claims had\nno great weight with the world. The aureole which the genius of Theodoric\ncast around his throne passed away upon his death, and the Arianism of\nthat great sovereign sufficiently debarred him from the sympathies of the\nChurch. In Gaul, under a few bold and unscrupulous men, the Merovingian\ndynasty emerged from a host of petty kings, and consolidated the whole\ncountry into one kingdom; but after a short period it degenerated, the\nkings became mere puppets in the hands of the mayors of the palace, and\nthese latter, whose office had become hereditary, who were the chiefs of\nthe great landed proprietors, and who had acquired by their position a\npersonal ascendancy over the sovereigns, became the virtual rulers of the\nnation.\n\nIt was out of these somewhat unpromising conditions that the medi\u00e6val\ndoctrine of the Divine right of kings, and the general reverence for rank,\nthat formed the essence of chivalry, were slowly evolved. Political and\nmoral causes conspired in producing them. The chief political causes\u2014which\nare well known\u2014may be summed up in a few words.\n\nWhen Leo the Isaurian attempted, in the eighth century, to repress the\nworship of images, the resistance which he met at Constantinople, though\nviolent, was speedily allayed; but the Pope, assuming a far higher\nposition than any Byzantine ecclesiastic could attain, boldly\nexcommunicated the emperor, and led a revolt against his authority, which\nresulted in the virtual independence of Italy. His position was at this\ntime singularly grand. He represented a religious cause to which the great\nmass of the Christian world were passionately attached. He was venerated\nas the emancipator of Italy. He exhibited in the hour of his triumph a\nmoderation which conciliated many enemies, and prevented the anarchy that\nmight naturally have been expected. He presided, at the same time, over a\nvast monastic organisation, which ramified over all Christendom,\npropagated his authority among many barbarous nations, and, by its special\nattachment to the Papacy, as distinguished from the Episcopacy,\ncontributed very much to transform Christianity into a spiritual\ndespotism. One great danger, however, still menaced his power. The\nbarbarous Lombards were continually invading his territory, and\nthreatening the independence of Rome. The Lombard monarch, Luitprand had\nquailed in the very hour of his triumph before the menace of eternal\ntorture but his successor, Astolphus, was proof against every fear, and it\nseemed as though the Papal city must have inevitably succumbed before his\narms.\n\nIn their complete military impotence, the Popes looked abroad for some\nforeign succour, and they naturally turned to the Franks, whose martial\ntastes and triumphs were universally renowned. Charles Martel, though\nsimply a mayor of the palace, had saved Europe from the Mohammedans, and\nthe Pope expected that he would unsheath his sword for the defence of the\nVatican. Charles, however, was deaf to all entreaties; and, although he\nhad done more than any ruler since Constantine for the Church, his\nattention seems to have been engrossed by the interests of his own\ncountry, and he was much alienated from the sympathies of the clergy. An\nancient legend tells how a saint saw his soul carried by d\u00e6mons into hell,\nbecause he had secularised Church property, and a more modern\nhistorian(545) has ascribed his death to his having hesitated to defend\nthe Pope. His son, Pepin, however, actuated probably in different degrees\nby personal ambition, a desire for military adventure, and religious zeal,\nlistened readily to the prayer of the Pope, and a compact was entered into\nbetween the parties, which proved one of the most important events in\nhistory. Pepin agreed to secure the Pope from the danger by which he was\nthreatened. The Pope agreed to give his religious sanction to the ambition\nof Pepin, who designed to depose the Merovingian dynasty, and to become in\nname, as he was already in fact, the sovereign of Gaul.\n\nIt is not necessary for me to recount at length the details of these\nnegotiations, which are described by many historians. It is sufficient to\nsay, that the compact was religiously observed. Pepin made two expeditions\nto Italy, and completely shattered the power of the Lombards, wresting\nfrom them the rich exarchate of Ravenna, which he ceded to the Pope, who\nstill retained his nominal allegiance to the Byzantine emperor, but who\nbecame, by this donation, for the first time avowedly an independent\ntemporal prince. On the other hand, the deposition of Childeric was\npeaceably effected; the last of the Merovingians was immured in a\nmonastery, and the Carlovingian dynasty ascended the throne under the\nspecial benediction of the Pope, who performed on the occasion the\nceremony of consecration, which had not previously been in general\nuse,(546) placed the crown with his own hands on the head of Pepin, and\ndelivered a solemn anathema against all who should rebel against the new\nking or against his successors.\n\nThe extreme importance of these events was probably not fully realised by\nany of the parties concerned in them. It was evident, indeed, that the\nPope had been freed from a pressing danger, and had acquired a great\naccession of temporal power, and also that a new dynasty had arisen in\nGaul under circumstances that were singularly favourable and imposing.\nBut, much more important than these facts was the permanent consecration\nof the royal authority that had been effected. The Pope had successfully\nasserted his power of deposing and elevating kings, and had thus acquired\na position which influenced the whole subsequent course of European\nhistory. The monarch, if he had become in some degree subservient to the\npriest, had become in a great degree independent of his people; the Divine\norigin of his power was regarded as a dogma of religion, and a sanctity\nsurrounded him which immeasurably aggrandised his power. The ascription,\nby the Pagans, of divinity to kings had had no appreciable effect in\nincreasing their authority or restraining the limits of criticism or of\nrebellion. The ascription of a Divine right to kings, independent of the\nwishes of the people, has been one of the most enduring and most potent of\nsuperstitions, and it has even now not wholly vanished from the\nworld.(547)\n\nMere isolated political events have, however, rarely or never this\nprofound influence, unless they have been preceded and prepared by other\nagencies. The first predisposing cause of the ready reception of the\ndoctrine of the Divine character of authority, may probably be found in\nthe prominence of the monastic system. I have already observed that this\nsystem represents in its extreme form that exaltation of the virtues of\nhumility and of obedience which so broadly distinguishes the Christian\nfrom the Pagan type of excellence. I have also noticed that, owing to the\nconcurrence of many causes, it had acquired such dimensions and influence\nas to supply the guiding ideal of the Christian world. Controlling or\nmonopolising all education and literature, furnishing most of the\nlegislators and many of the statesmen of the age, attracting to themselves\nall moral enthusiasm and most intellectual ability, the monks soon left\ntheir impress on the character of nations. Habits of obedience and\ndispositions of humility were diffused, revered, and idealised, and a\nChurch which rested mainly on tradition fostered a deep sense of the\nsanctity of antiquity, and a natural disposition to observe traditional\ncustoms. In this manner a tone of feeling was gradually formed that\nassimilated with the monarchical and aristocratical institutions of\nfeudalism, which flourished chiefly because they corresponded with the\nmoral feelings of the time.\n\nIn the next place, a series of social and political causes diminished the\npersonal independence for which the barbarians had been noted. The king\nhad at first been, not the sovereign of a country, but the chief of a\ntribe.(548) Gradually, however, with more settled habits, the sovereignty\nassumed a territorial character, and we may soon discover the rudiments of\na territorial aristocracy. The kings gave their leading chiefs portions of\nconquered land or of the royal domains, under the name of benefices. The\nobligation of military service was attached to these benefices, and by\nslow and perhaps insensible stages, each of which has been the subject of\nfierce controversy, they were made irrevocable, and ultimately hereditary.\nWhile society was still disorganised, small landlords purchased the\nprotection of the Church, or of some important chief, by surrendering\ntheir estates, which they received back as tenants, subject to the\ncondition of the payment of rent, or of military service. Others, without\nmaking such surrender, placed themselves under the care of a neighbouring\nlord, and offered, in return, homage or military aid. At the same time,\nthrough causes to which I have already adverted, the free peasants for the\nmost part sank into serfs, subject to and protected by the landowners. In\nthis manner a hierarchy of ranks was gradually formed, of which the\nsovereign was the apex and the serf the basis. The complete legal\norganisation of this hierarchy belongs to the period of feudalism, which\nis not within the scope of the present volume; but the chief elements of\nfeudalism existed before Charlemagne, and the moral results flowing from\nthem may be already discerned. Each rank, except the very highest, was\ncontinually brought into contact with a superior, and a feeling of\nconstant dependence and subordination was accordingly fostered. To the\nserf, who depended for all things upon the neighbouring noble, to the\nnoble, who held all his dignities on the condition of frequent military\nservice under his sovereign, the idea of secular rank became indissolubly\nconnected with that of supreme greatness.\n\nIt will appear evident, from the foregoing observations, that in the\nperiod before Charlemagne the moral and political causes were already in\naction, which at a much later period produced the organisation of\nchivalry\u2014an organisation which was founded on the combination and the\nglorification of secular rank and military prowess. But, in order that the\ntendencies I have described should acquire their full force, it was\nnecessary that they should be represented or illustrated in some great\npersonage, who, by the splendour and the beauty of his career, could\nfascinate the imaginations of men. It is much easier to govern great\nmasses of men through their imagination than through their reason. Moral\nprinciples rarely act powerfully upon the world, except by way of example\nor ideals. When the course of events has been to glorify the ascetic or\nmonarchical or military spirit, a great saint, or sovereign, or soldier\nwill arise, who will concentrate in one dazzling focus the blind\ntendencies of his time, kindle the enthusiasm and fascinate the\nimagination of the people. But for the prevailing tendency, the great man\nwould not have arisen, or would not have exercised his great influence.\nBut for the great man, whose career appealed vividly to the imagination,\nthe prevailing tendency would never have acquired its full intensity.\n\nThis typical figure appeared in Charlemagne, whose colossal form towers\nwith a majestic grandeur both in history and in romance. Of all the great\nrulers of men, there has probably been no other who was so truly\nmany-sided, whose influence pervaded so completely all the religious,\nintellectual, and political modes of thought existing in his time. Rising\nin one of the darkest periods of European history, this great emperor\nresuscitated, with a brief but dazzling splendour, the faded glories of\nthe Empire of the West, conducted, for the most part in person, numerous\nexpeditions against the barbarous nations around him, promulgated a vast\nsystem of legislation, reformed the discipline of every order of the\nChurch, and reduced all classes of the clergy to subservience to his will,\nwhile, by legalising tithes, he greatly increased their material\nprosperity. He at the same time contributed, in a measure, to check the\nintellectual decadence by founding schools and libraries, and drawing\naround him all the scattered learning of Europe. He reformed the coinage,\nextended commerce, influenced religious controversies, and convoked great\nlegislative assemblies, which ultimately contributed largely to the\norganisation of feudalism. In all these spheres the traces of his vast,\norganising, and far-seeing genius may be detected, and the influence which\nhe exercised over the imaginations of men is shown by the numerous legends\nof which he is the hero. In the preceding ages the supreme ideal had been\nthe ascetic. When the popular imagination embodied in legends its\nconception of humanity in its noblest and most attractive form, it\ninstinctively painted some hermit-saint of many penances and many\nmiracles. In the Romances of Charlemagne and of Arthur we may trace the\ndawning of a new type of greatness. The hero of the imagination of Europe\nwas no longer a hermit, but a king, a warrior, a knight. The long train of\ninfluences I have reviewed, culminating in Charlemagne, had done their\nwork. The age of the ascetics began to fade. The age of the crusades and\nof chivalry succeeded it.\n\nIt is curious to observe the manner in which, under the influence of the\nprevailing tendency, the career of Charlemagne was transfigured by the\npopular imagination. His military enterprises had been chiefly directed\nagainst the Saxons, against whom he had made not less than thirty-two\nexpeditions. With the Mohammedans he had but little contact. It was\nCharles Martel, not his grandson, who, by the great battle of Poitiers,\nhad checked their career. Charlemagne made, in person, but a single\nexpedition against them in Spain, and that expedition was on a small\nscale, and was disastrous in its issue. But in the Carlovingian romances,\nwhich arose at a time when the enthusiasm of the Crusades was permeating\nChristendom, events were represented in a wholly different light. Charles\nMartel has no place among the ideal combatants of the Church. He had\nappeared too early, his figure was not sufficiently great to fascinate the\npopular imagination, and by confiscating ecclesiastical property, and\nrefusing to assist the Pope against the Lombards, he had fallen under the\nban of the clergy. Charlemagne, on the other hand, was represented as the\nfirst and greatest of the crusaders. His wars with the Saxons were\nscarcely noticed. His whole life was said to have been spent in heroic and\ntriumphant combats with the followers of Mohammed.(549) Among the\nachievements attributed to him was an expedition to rescue Nismes and\nCarcassonne from their grasp, which was, in fact, a dim tradition of the\nvictories of Charles Martel.(550) He is even said to have carried his\nvictorious arms into the heart of Palestine, and he is the hero of what\nare probably the three earliest extant romances of the Crusades.(551) In\nfiction, as in history, his reign forms the great landmark separating the\nearly period of the middle ages from the age of military Christianity.\n\nOn the verge of this great change I draw this history to a close. In\npursuing our long and chequered course, from Augustus to Charlemagne, we\nhave seen the rise and fall of many types of character, and of many forms\nof enthusiasm. We have seen the influence of universal empire expanding,\nand the influence of Greek civilisation intensifying, the sympathies of\nEurope. We have surveyed the successive progress of Stoicism, Platonism,\nand Egyptian philosophies, at once reflecting and guiding the moral\ntendencies of society. We have traced the course of progress or\nretrogression in many fields of social, political, and legislative life,\nhave watched the cradle of European Christianity, examined the causes of\nits triumph, the difficulties it encountered, and the priceless blessings\nits philanthropic spirit bestowed upon mankind. We have also pursued step\nby step the mournful history of its corruption, its asceticism, and its\nintolerance, the various transformations it produced or underwent when the\nturbid waters of the barbarian invasions had inundated the civilisations\nof Europe. It remains for me, before concluding this work, to investigate\none class of subjects to which I have, as yet, but briefly adverted\u2014to\nexamine the effects of the changes I have described upon the character and\nposition of woman, and upon the grave moral questions concerning the\nrelations of the sexes.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. THE POSITION OF WOMEN.\n\n\nIn the long series of moral revolutions that have been described in the\nforegoing chapters, I have more than once had occasion to refer to the\nposition that was assigned to woman in the community, and to the virtues\nand vices that spring directly from the relations of the sexes. I have\nnot, however, as yet discussed these questions with a fulness at all\ncorresponding to their historical importance, and I propose, in\nconsequence, before concluding this volume, to devote a few pages to their\nexamination. Of all the many questions that are treated in this work,\nthere is none which I approach with so much hesitation, for there is\nprobably none which it is so difficult to treat with clearness and\nimpartiality, and at the same time without exciting any scandal or\noffence. The complexity of the problem, arising from the very large place\nwhich exceptional institutions or circumstances, and especially the\ninfluence of climate and race, have had on the chastity of nations, I have\nalready noticed, and the extreme delicacy of the matters with which this\nbranch of ethics is connected must be palpable to all. The first duty of\nan historian, however, is to truth; and it is absolutely impossible to\npresent a true picture of the moral condition of different ages, and to\nform a true estimate of the moral effects of different religions, without\nadverting to the department of morals, which has exhibited most change,\nand has probably exercised most influence.\n\nIt is natural that, in the period when men are still perfect barbarians,\nwhen their habits of life are still nomadic, and when, war and the chase,\nbeing their sole pursuits, the qualities that are required in these form\ntheir chief measure of excellence, the inferiority of women to men should\nbe regarded as undoubted, and their position should be extremely degraded.\nIn all those qualities which are then most prized, women are indisputably\ninferior. The social qualities in which they are especially fitted to\nexcel have no sphere for their display. The ascendancy of beauty is very\nfaint, and, even if it were otherwise, few traces of female beauty could\nsurvive the hardships of the savage life. Woman is looked upon merely as\nthe slave of man, and as the minister to his passions. In the first\ncapacity, her life is one of continual, abject, and unrequited toil. In\nthe second capacity, she is exposed to all the violent revulsions of\nfeeling that follow, among rude men, the gratification of the animal\npassions.\n\nEven in this early stage, however, we may trace some rudiments of those\nmoral sentiments which are destined at a later period to expand. The\ninstitution of marriage exists. The value of chastity is commonly in some\ndegree felt, and appears in the indignation which is displayed against the\nadulterer. The duty of restraining the passions is largely recognised in\nthe female, though the males are only restricted by the prohibition of\nadultery.\n\nThe first two steps which are taken towards the elevation of woman are\nprobably the abandonment of the custom of purchasing wives, and the\nconstruction of the family on the basis of monogamy. In the earliest\nperiods of civilisation, the marriage contract was arranged between the\nbridegroom and the father of the bride, on the condition of a sum of money\nbeing paid by the former to the latter. This sum, which is known in the\nlaws of the barbarians as the \u201cmundium,\u201d(552) was in fact a payment to the\nfather for the cession of his daughter, who thus became the bought slave\nof her husband. It is one of the most remarkable features of the ancient\nlaws of India, that they forbade this gift, on the ground that the parent\nshould not sell his child;(553) but there can be little doubt that this\nsale was at one time the ordinary type of marriage. In the Jewish writings\nwe find Jacob purchasing Leah and Rachel by certain services to their\nfather; and this custom, which seems to have been at one time general in\nJudea,(554) appears in the age of Homer to have been general in Greece. At\nan early period, however, of Greek history, the purchase-money was\nreplaced by the dowry, or sum of money paid by the father of the bride for\nthe use of his daughter;(555) and this, although it passed into the hands\nof the husband, contributed to elevate the wife, in the first place, by\nthe dignity it gave her, and, in the next place, by special laws, which\nboth in Greece and Rome secured it to her in most cases of\nseparation.(556) The wife thus possessed a guarantee against ill-usage by\nher husband. She ceased to be his slave, and became in some degree a\ncontracting party. Among the early Germans, a different and very\nremarkable custom existed. The bride did not bring any dowry to her\nhusband, nor did the bridegroom give anything to the father of the bride;\nbut he gave his gift to the bride herself, on the morning after the first\nnight of marriage, and this, which was called the \u201cMorgengab,\u201d or morning\ngift, was the origin of the jointure.(557)\n\nStill more important than the foregoing was the institution of monogamy,\nby which, from its earliest days, the Greek civilisation proclaimed its\nsuperiority to the Asiatic civilisations that had preceded it. We may\nregard monogamy either in the light of our intuitive moral sentiment on\nthe subject of purity, or in the light of the interests of society. In its\nOriental or polygamous stage, marriage is regarded almost exclusively, in\nits lowest aspect, as a gratification of the passions; while in European\nmarriages the mutual attachment and respect of the contracting parties,\nthe formation of a household, and the long train of domestic feelings and\nduties that accompany it, have all their distinguished place among the\nmotives of the contract, and the lower element has comparatively little\nprominence. In this way it may be intelligibly said, without any reference\nto utilitarian considerations, that monogamy is a higher state than\npolygamy. The utilitarian arguments in its defence are also extremely\npowerful, and may be summed up in three sentences. Nature, by making the\nnumber of males and females nearly equal, indicates it as natural. In no\nother form of marriage can the government of the family, which is one of\nthe chief ends of marriage, be so happily sustained, and in no other does\nwoman assume the position of the equal of man.\n\nMonogamy was the general system in Greece, though there are said to have\nbeen slight and temporary deviations into the earlier system, after some\ngreat disasters, when an increase of population was ardently desired.(558)\nA broad line must, however, be drawn between the legendary or poetical\nperiod, as reflected in Homer and perpetuated in the tragedians, and the\nlater historical period. It is one of the most remarkable, and to some\nwriters one of the most perplexing, facts in the moral history of Greece,\nthat in the former and ruder period women had undoubtedly the highest\nplace, and their type exhibited the highest perfection. Moral ideas, in a\nthousand forms, have been sublimated, enlarged, and changed, by advancing\ncivilisation; but it may be fearlessly asserted that the types of female\nexcellence which are contained in the Greek poems, while they are among\nthe earliest, are also among the most perfect in the literature of\nmankind. The conjugal tenderness of Hector and Andromache; the unwearied\nfidelity of Penelope, awaiting through the long revolving years the return\nof her storm-tossed husband, who looked forward to her as to the crown of\nall his labours; the heroic love of Alcestis, voluntarily dying that her\nhusband might live; the filial piety of Antigone; the majestic grandeur of\nthe death of Polyxena; the more subdued and saintly resignation of\nIphigenia, excusing with her last breath the father who had condemned her;\nthe joyous, modest, and loving Nausicaa, whose figure shines like a\nperfect idyll among the tragedies of the Odyssey\u2014all these are pictures of\nperennial beauty, which Rome and Christendom, chivalry and modern\ncivilisation, have neither eclipsed nor transcended. Virgin modesty and\nconjugal fidelity, the graces as well as the virtues of the most perfect\nwomanhood, have never been more exquisitely pourtrayed. The female figures\nstand out in the canvas almost as prominently as the male ones, and are\nsurrounded by an almost equal reverence. The whole history of the Siege of\nTroy is a history of the catastrophes that followed a violation of the\nnuptial tie. Yet, at the same time, the position of women was in some\nrespects a degraded one. The custom of purchase-money given to the father\nof the bride was general. The husbands appear to have indulged largely,\nand with little or no censure, in concubines.(559) Female captives of the\nhighest rank were treated with great harshness. The inferiority of women\nto men was strongly asserted, and it was illustrated and defended by a\nvery curious physiological notion, that the generative power belonged\nexclusively to men, women having only a very subordinate part in the\nproduction of their children.(560) The woman Pandora was said to have been\nthe author of all human ills.\n\nIn the historical age of Greece, the legal position of women had in some\nrespects slightly improved, but their moral condition had undergone a\nmarked deterioration. Virtuous women lived a life of perfect seclusion.\nThe foremost and most dazzling type of Ionic womanhood was the courtesan,\nwhile, among the men, the latitude accorded by public opinion was almost\nunrestricted.\n\nThe facts in moral history, which it is at once most important and most\ndifficult to appreciate, are what may be called the facts of feeling. It\nis much easier to show what men did or taught than to realise the state of\nmind that rendered possible such actions or teaching; and in the case\nbefore us we have to deal with a condition of feeling so extremely remote\nfrom that of our own day, that the difficulty is preeminently great. Very\nsensual, and at the same time very brilliant societies, have indeed\nrepeatedly existed, and the histories of both France and Italy afford many\nexamples of an artistic and intellectual enthusiasm encircling those who\nwere morally most frail; but the peculiarity of Greek sensuality is, that\nit grew up, for the most part, uncensured, and indeed even encouraged,\nunder the eyes of some of the most illustrious of moralists. If we can\nimagine Ninon de l\u2019Enclos at a time when the rank and splendour of\nParisian society thronged her drawing-rooms, reckoning a Bossuet or a\nF\u00e9nelon among her followers\u2014if we can imagine these prelates publicly\nadvising her about the duties of her profession, and the means of\nattaching the affections of her lovers\u2014we shall have conceived a relation\nscarcely more strange than that which existed between Socrates and the\ncourtesan Theodota.\n\nIn order to reconstruct, as far as possible, the modes of feeling of the\nGreek moralists, it will be necessary in the first place to say a few\nwords concerning one of the most delicate, but at the same time most\nimportant, problems with which the legislator and the moralist have to\ndeal.\n\nIt was a favourite doctrine of the Christian Fathers, that concupiscence,\nor the sensual passion, was \u201cthe original sin\u201d of human nature; and it\nmust be owned that the progress of knowledge, which is usually extremely\nopposed to the ascetic theory of life, concurs with the theological view,\nin showing the natural force of this appetite to be far greater than the\nwell-being of man requires. The writings of Malthus have proved, what the\nGreek moralists appear in a considerable degree to have seen, that its\nnormal and temperate exercise in the form of marriage, would produce, if\nuniversal, the utmost calamities to the world, and that, while nature\nseems in the most unequivocal manner to urge the human race to early\nmarriages, the first condition of an advancing civilisation in populous\ncountries is to restrain or diminish them. In no highly civilised society\nis marriage general on the first development of the passions, and the\ncontinual tendency of increasing knowledge is to render such marriages\nmore rare. It is also an undoubted truth that, however much moralists may\nenforce the obligation of extra-matrimonial purity, this obligation has\nnever been even approximately regarded; and in all nations, ages, and\nreligions a vast mass of irregular indulgence has appeared, which has\nprobably contributed more than any other single cause to the misery and\nthe degradation of man.\n\nThere are two ends which a moralist, in dealing with this question, will\nespecially regard\u2014the natural duty of every man doing something for the\nsupport of the child he has called into existence, and the preservation of\nthe domestic circle unassailed and unpolluted. The family is the centre\nand the archetype of the State, and the happiness and goodness of society\nare always in a very great degree dependent upon the purity of domestic\nlife. The essentially exclusive nature of marital affection, and the\nnatural desire of every man to be certain of the paternity of the child he\nsupports, render the incursions of irregular passions within the domestic\ncircle a cause of extreme suffering. Yet it would appear as if the\nexcessive force of these passions would render such incursions both\nfrequent and inevitable.\n\nUnder these circumstances, there has arisen in society a figure which is\ncertainly the most mournful, and in some respects the most awful, upon\nwhich the eye of the moralist can dwell. That unhappy being whose very\nname is a shame to speak; who counterfeits with a cold heart the\ntransports of affection, and submits herself as the passive instrument of\nlust; who is scorned and insulted as the vilest of her sex, and doomed,\nfor the most part, to disease and abject wretchedness and an early death,\nappears in every age as the perpetual symbol of the degradation and the\nsinfulness of man. Herself the supreme type of vice, she is ultimately the\nmost efficient guardian of virtue. But for her, the unchallenged purity of\ncountless happy homes would be polluted, and not a few who, in the pride\nof their untempted chastity, think of her with an indignant shudder, would\nhave known the agony of remorse and of despair. On that one degraded and\nignoble form are concentrated the passions that might have filled the\nworld with shame. She remains, while creeds and civilisations rise and\nfall, the eternal priestess of humanity, blasted for the sins of the\npeople.\n\nIn dealing with this unhappy being, and with all of her sex who have\nviolated the law of chastity, the public opinion of most Christian\ncountries pronounces a sentence of extreme severity. In the Anglo-Saxon\nnations especially, a single fault of this kind is sufficient, at least in\nthe upper and middle classes, to affix an indelible brand which no time,\nno virtues, no penitence can wholly efface. This sentence is probably, in\nthe first instance, simply the expression of the religious feeling on the\nsubject, but it is also sometimes defended by powerful arguments drawn\nfrom the interests of society. It is said that the preservation of\ndomestic purity is a matter of such transcendent importance that it is\nright that the most crushing penalties should be attached to an act which\nthe imagination can easily transfigure, which legal enactments can never\nefficiently control, and to which the most violent passions may prompt. It\nis said, too, that an anathema which drives into obscurity all evidences\nof sensual passions is peculiarly fitted to restrict their operation; for,\nmore than any other passions, they are dependent on the imagination, which\nis readily fired by the sight of evil. It is added, that the emphasis with\nwhich the vice is stigmatised produces a corresponding admiration for the\nopposite virtue, and that a feeling of the most delicate and scrupulous\nhonour is thus formed among the female population, which not only\npreserves from gross sin, but also dignifies and ennobles the whole\ncharacter.\n\nIn opposition to these views, several considerations of much weight have\nbeen urged. It is argued that, however persistently society may ignore\nthis form of vice, it exists nevertheless, and on the most gigantic scale,\nand that evil rarely assumes such inveterate and perverting forms as when\nit is shrouded in obscurity and veiled by an hypocritical appearance of\nunconsciousness. The existence in England of certainly not less than fifty\nthousand unhappy women,(561) sunk in the very lowest depths of vice and\nmisery, shows sufficiently what an appalling amount of moral evil is\nfestering uncontrolled, undiscussed, and unalleviated, under the fair\nsurface of a decorous society. In the eyes of every physician, and indeed\nin the eyes of most continental writers who have adverted to the subject,\nno other feature of English life appears so infamous as the fact that an\nepidemic, which is one of the most dreadful now existing among mankind,\nwhich communicates itself from the guilty husband to the innocent wife,\nand even transmits its taint to her offspring, and which the experience of\nother nations conclusively proves may be vastly diminished, should be\nsuffered to rage unchecked because the Legislature refuses to take\nofficial cognisance of its existence, or proper sanitary measures for its\nrepression.(562) If the terrible censure which English public opinion\npasses upon every instance of female frailty in some degree diminishes the\nnumber, it does not prevent such instances from being extremely numerous,\nand it immeasurably aggravates the suffering they produce. Acts which in\nother European countries would excite only a slight and transient emotion,\nspread in England, over a wide circle, all the bitterness of unmitigated\nanguish. Acts which naturally neither imply nor produce a total subversion\nof the moral feelings, and which, in other countries, are often followed\nby happy, virtuous, and affectionate lives, in England almost invariably\nlead to absolute ruin. Infanticide is greatly multiplied, and a vast\nproportion of those whose reputations and lives have been blasted by one\nmomentary sin, are hurled into the abyss of habitual prostitution\u2014a\ncondition which, owing to the sentence of public opinion and the neglect\nof legislators, is in no other European country so hopelessly vicious or\nso irrevocable.(563)\n\nIt is added, too, that the immense multitude who are thus doomed to the\nextremity of life-long wretchedness are not always, perhaps not generally,\nof those whose dispositions seem naturally incapable of virtue. The\nvictims of seduction are often led aside quite as much by the ardour of\ntheir affections, and by the vivacity of their intelligence, as by any\nvicious propensities.(564) Even in the lowest grades, the most\ndispassionate observers have detected remains of higher feelings, which,\nin a different moral atmosphere, and under different moral husbandry,\nwould have undoubtedly been developed.(565) The statistics of prostitution\nshow that a great proportion of those who have fallen into it have been\nimpelled by the most extreme poverty, in many instances verging upon\nstarvation.(566)\n\nThese opposing considerations, which I have very briefly indicated, and\nwhich I do not propose to discuss or to estimate, will be sufficient to\nexhibit the magnitude of the problem. In the Greek civilisation,\nlegislators and moralists endeavoured to meet it by the cordial\nrecognition of two distinct orders of womanhood(567)\u2014the wife, whose first\nduty was fidelity to her husband; the het\u00e6ra, or mistress, who subsisted\nby her fugitive attachments. The wives of the Greeks lived in almost\nabsolute seclusion. They were usually married when very young. Their\noccupations were to weave, to spin, to embroider, to superintend the\nhousehold, to care for their sick slaves. They lived in a special and\nretired part of the house. The more wealthy seldom went abroad, and never\nexcept when accompanied by a female slave; never attended the public\nspectacles; received no male visitors except in the presence of their\nhusbands, and had not even a seat at their own tables when male guests\nwere there. Their pre-eminent virtue was fidelity, and it is probable that\nthis was very strictly and very generally observed. Their remarkable\nfreedom from temptations, the public opinion which strongly discouraged\nany attempt to seduce them, and the ample sphere for illicit pleasures\nthat was accorded to the other sex, all contributed to protect it. On the\nother hand, living, as they did, almost exclusively among their female\nslaves, being deprived of all the educating influence of male society, and\nhaving no place at those public spectacles which were the chief means of\nAthenian culture, their minds must necessarily have been exceedingly\ncontracted. Thucydides doubtless expressed the prevailing sentiment of his\ncountrymen when he said that the highest merit of woman is not to be\nspoken of either for good or for evil; and Phidias illustrated the same\nfeeling when he represented the heavenly Aphrodite standing on a tortoise,\ntypifying thereby the secluded life of a virtuous woman.(568)\n\nIn their own restricted sphere their lives were probably not unhappy.\nEducation and custom rendered the purely domestic life that was assigned\nto them a second nature, and it must in most instances have reconciled\nthem to the extra-matrimonial connections in which their husbands too\nfrequently indulged. The prevailing manners were very gentle. Domestic\noppression is scarcely ever spoken of; the husband lived chiefly in the\npublic place; causes of jealousy and of dissension could seldom occur; and\na feeling of warm affection, though not a feeling of equality, must\ndoubtless have in most cases spontaneously arisen. In the writings of\nXenophon we have a charming picture of a husband who had received into his\narms his young wife of fifteen, absolutely ignorant of the world and of\nits ways. He speaks to her with extreme kindness, but in the language that\nwould be used to a little child. Her task, he tells her, is to be like a\nqueen bee, dwelling continually at home and superintending the work of her\nslaves. She must distribute to each their tasks, must economise the family\nincome, and must take especial care that the house is strictly orderly\u2014the\nshoes, the pots, and the clothes always in their places. It is also, he\ntells her, a part of her duty to tend her sick slaves; but here his wife\ninterrupted him, exclaiming, \u201cNay, but that will indeed be the most\nagreeable of my offices, if such as I treat with kindness are likely to be\ngrateful, and to love me more than before.\u201d With a very tender and\ndelicate care to avoid everything resembling a reproach, the husband\npersuades his wife to give up the habits of wearing high-heeled boots, in\norder to appear tall, and of colouring her face with vermilion and white\nlead. He promises her that if she faithfully performs her duties he will\nhimself be the first and most devoted of her slaves. He assured Socrates\nthat when any domestic dispute arose he could extricate himself admirably,\nif he was in the right; but that, whenever he was in the wrong, he found\nit impossible to convince his wife that it was otherwise.(569)\n\nWe have another picture of Greek married life in the writings of Plutarch,\nbut it represents the condition of the Greek mind at a later period than\nthat of Xenophon. In Plutarch the wife is represented not as the mere\nhousekeeper, or as the chief slave of her husband, but as his equal and\nhis companion. He enforces, in the strongest terms, reciprocity of\nobligations, and desires that the minds of women should be cultivated to\nthe highest point.(570) His precepts of marriage, indeed, fall little if\nat all below any that have appeared in modern days. His letter of\nconsolation to his wife, on the death of their child, breathes a spirit of\nthe tenderest affection. It is recorded of him that, having had some\ndispute with the relations of his wife, she feared that it might impair\ntheir domestic happiness, and she accordingly persuaded her husband to\naccompany her on a pilgrimage to Mount Helicon, where they offered up\ntogether a sacrifice to Love, and prayed that their affection for one\nanother might never be diminished.\n\nIn general, however, the position of the virtuous Greek woman was a very\nlow one. She was under a perpetual tutelage: first of all to her parents,\nwho disposed of her hand, then to her husband, and in her days of\nwidowhood to her sons. In cases of inheritance her male relations were\npreferred to her. The privilege of divorce, which, in Athens, at least,\nshe possessed as well as her husband, appears to have been practically\nalmost nugatory, on account of the shock which public declarations in the\nlaw court gave to the habits which education and public opinion had\nformed. She brought with her, however, a dowry, and the recognised\nnecessity of endowing daughters was one of the causes of those frequent\nexpositions which were perpetrated with so little blame. The Athenian law\nwas also peculiarly careful and tender in dealing with the interests of\nfemale orphans.(571) Plato had argued that women were equal to men; but\nthe habits of the people were totally opposed to this theory. Marriage was\nregarded chiefly in a civic light, as the means of producing citizens, and\nin Sparta it was ordered that old or infirm husbands should cede their\nyoung wives to stronger men, who could produce vigorous soldiers for the\nState. The Laced\u00e6monian treatment of women, which differed in many\nrespects from that which prevailed in the other Greek States, while it was\nutterly destructive of all delicacy of feeling or action, had undoubtedly\nthe effect of producing a fierce and masculine patriotism; and many fine\nexamples are recorded of Spartan mothers devoting their sons on the altar\nof their country, rejoicing over their deaths when nobly won, and infusing\ntheir own heroic spirit into the armies of the people. For the most part,\nhowever, the names of virtuous women seldom appear in Greek history. The\nsimple modesty which was evinced by Phocion\u2019s wife, in the period when her\nhusband occupied the foremost position in Athens,(572) and a few instances\nof conjugal and filial affection, have been recorded; but in general the\nonly women who attracted the notice of the people were the het\u00e6r\u00e6, or\ncourtesans.(573)\n\nIn order to understand the position which these last assumed in Greek\nlife, we must transport ourselves in thought into a moral latitude totally\ndifferent from our own. The Greek conception of excellence was the full\nand perfect development of humanity in all its organs and functions, and\nwithout any tinge of asceticism. Some parts of human nature were\nrecognised as higher than others; and to suffer any of the lower appetites\nto obscure the mind, restrain the will and engross the energies of life,\nwas acknowledged to be disgraceful; but the systematic repression of a\nnatural appetite was totally foreign to Greek modes of thought.\nLegislators, moralists, and the general voice of the people, appear to\nhave applied these principles almost unreservedly to intercourse between\nthe sexes, and the most virtuous men habitually and openly entered into\nrelations which would now be almost universally censured.\n\nThe experience, however, of many societies has shown that a public opinion\nmay accord, in this respect, almost unlimited licence to one sex, without\nshowing any corresponding indulgence to the other. But, in Greece, a\nconcurrence of causes had conspired to bring a certain section of\ncourtesans into a position they have in no other society attained. The\nvoluptuous worship of Aphrodite gave a kind of religious sanction to their\nprofession. Courtesans were the priestesses in her temples, and those of\nCorinth were believed by their prayers to have averted calamities from\ntheir city. Prostitution is said to have entered into the religious rites\nof Babylon, Biblis, Cyprus, and Corinth, and these as well as Miletus,\nTenedos, Lesbos, and Abydos became famous for their schools of vice, which\ngrew up under the shadow of the temples.(574)\n\nIn the next place, the intense \u00e6sthetic enthusiasm that prevailed was\neminently fitted to raise the most beautiful to honour. In a land and\nbeneath a sky where natural beauty developed to the highest point, there\narose a school of matchless artists both in painting and in sculpture, and\npublic games and contests were celebrated, in which supreme physical\nperfection was crowned by an assembled people. In no other period of the\nworld\u2019s history was the admiration of beauty in all its forms so\npassionate or so universal. It coloured the whole moral teaching of the\ntime, and led the chief moralists to regard virtue simply as the highest\nkind of supersensual beauty. It appeared in all literature, where the\nbeauty of form and style was the first of studies. It supplied at once the\ninspiration and the rule of all Greek art. It led the Greek wife to pray,\nbefore all other prayers, for the beauty of her children. It surrounded\nthe most beautiful with an aureole of admiring reverence. The courtesan\nwas often the queen of beauty. She was the model of the statues of\nAphrodite, that commanded the admiration of Greece. Praxiteles was\naccustomed to reproduce the form of Phryne, and her statue, carved in\ngold, stood in the temple of Apollo at Delphi; and when she was accused of\ncorrupting the youth of Athens, her advocate, Hyperides, procured her\nacquittal by suddenly unveiling her charms before the dazzled eyes of the\nassembled judges. Apelles was at once the painter and the lover of La\u00efs,\nand Alexander gave him, as the choicest gift, his own favourite concubine,\nof whom the painter had become enamoured while pourtraying her. The chief\nflower-painter of antiquity acquired his skill through his love of the\nflower-girl Glycera, whom he was accustomed to paint among her garlands.\nPindar and Simonides sang the praises of courtesans, and grave\nphilosophers made pilgrimages to visit them, and their names were known in\nevery city.(575)\n\nIt is not surprising that, in such a state of thought and feeling, many of\nthe more ambitious and accomplished women should have betaken themselves\nto this career, nor yet that they should have attained the social position\nwhich the secluded existence and the enforced ignorance of the Greek wives\nhad left vacant. The courtesan was the one free woman of Athens, and she\noften availed herself of her freedom to acquire a degree of knowledge\nwhich enabled her to add to her other charms an intense intellectual\nfascination. Gathering around her the most brilliant artists, poets,\nhistorians, and philosophers, she flung herself unreservedly into the\nintellectual and \u00e6sthetic enthusiasms of her time, and soon became the\ncentre of a literary society of matchless splendour. Aspasia, who was as\nfamous for her genius as for her beauty, won the passionate love of\nPericles. She is said to have instructed him in eloquence, and to have\ncomposed some of his most famous orations; she was continually consulted\non affairs of state; and Socrates, like other philosophers, attended her\nassemblies. Socrates himself has owned his deep obligations to the\ninstructions of a courtesan named Diotima. The courtesan Leontium was\namong the most ardent disciples of Epicurus.(576)\n\nAnother cause probably contributed indirectly to the elevation of this\nclass, to which it is extremely difficult to allude in an English book,\nbut which it is impossible altogether to omit, even in the most cursory\nsurvey of Greek morals. Irregular female connections were looked upon as\nordinary and not disgraceful incidents in the life of a good man, for they\nwere compared with that lower abyss of unnatural love, which was the\ndeepest and strangest taint of Greek civilisation. This vice, which never\nappears in the writings of Homer and Hesiod, doubtless arose under the\ninfluence of the public games, which, accustoming men to the contemplation\nof absolutely nude figures,(577) awoke an unnatural passion,(578) totally\nremote from all modern feelings, but which in Greece it was regarded as\nheroic to resist.(579) The popular religion in this, as in other cases,\nwas made to bend to the new vice. Hebe, the cup-bearer of the gods, was\nreplaced by Ganymede, and the worst vices of earth were transported to\nOlympus.(580) Artists sought to reflect the passion in their statues of\nthe Hermaphrodite, of Bacchus, and the more effeminate Apollo; moralists\nwere known to praise it as the bond of friendship, and it was spoken of as\nthe inspiring enthusiasm of the heroic Theban legion of Epaminondas.(581)\nIn general, however, it was stigmatised as unquestionably a vice, but it\nwas treated with a levity we can now hardly conceive. We can scarcely have\na better illustration of the extent to which moral ideas and feelings have\nchanged, than the fact that the first two Greeks who were considered\nworthy of statues by their fellow-countrymen are said to have been\nHarmodius and Aristogeiton, who were united by an impure love, and who\nwere glorified for a political assassination.(582)\n\nIt is probable that this cause conspired with the others to dissociate the\nclass of courtesans from the idea of supreme depravity with which they\nhave usually been connected. The great majority, however, were sunk in\nthis, as in all other ages, in abject degradation;(583) comparatively few\nattained the condition of het\u00e6r\u00e6, and even of these it is probable that\nthe greater number exhibited the characteristics which in all ages have\nattached to their class. Faithlessness, extreme rapacity, and extravagant\nluxury, were common among them; but yet it is unquestionable that there\nwere many exceptions. The excommunication of society did not press upon or\ndegrade them; and though they were never regarded with the same honour as\nmarried women, it seems generally to have been believed that the wife and\nthe courtesan had each her place and her function in the world, and her\nown peculiar type of excellence. The courtesan Le\u00e6na, who was a friend of\nHarmodius, died in torture rather than reveal the conspiracy of her\nfriend, and the Athenians, in allusion to her name, caused the statue of a\ntongueless lioness to be erected to commemorate her constancy.(584) The\ngentle manners and disinterested affection of a courtesan named Bacchis\nwere especially recorded, and a very touching letter paints her character,\nand describes the regret that followed her to the tomb.(585) In one of the\nmost remarkable of his pictures of Greek life, Xenophon describes how\nSocrates, having heard of the beauty of the courtesan Theodota, went with\nhis disciples to ascertain for himself whether the report was true; how\nwith a quiet humour he questioned her about the sources of the luxury of\nher dwelling, and how he proceeded to sketch for her the qualities she\nshould cultivate in order to attach her lovers. She ought, he tells her,\nto shut the door against the insolent, to watch her lovers in sickness, to\nrejoice greatly when they succeed in anything honourable, to love tenderly\nthose who love her. Having carried on a cheerful and perfectly\nunembarrassed conversation with her, with no kind of reproach on his part,\neither expressed or implied, and with no trace either of the timidity or\neffrontery of conscious guilt upon hers, the best and wisest of the Greeks\nleft his hostess with a graceful compliment to her beauty.(586)\n\nMy task in describing this aspect of Greek life has been an eminently\nunpleasing one, and I should certainly not have entered upon even the\nbaldest and most guarded disquisition on a subject so difficult, painful,\nand delicate, had it not been absolutely indispensable to a history of\nmorals to give at least an outline of the progress that has been effected\nin this sphere. What I have written will sufficiently explain why Greece,\nwhich was fertile, beyond all other lands, in great men, was so remarkably\nbarren of great women. It will show, too, that while the Greek moralists\nrecognised, like ourselves, the distinction between the higher and the\nlower sides of our nature, they differed very widely from modern public\nopinion in the standard of morals they enforced. The Christian doctrine,\nthat it is criminal to gratify a powerful and a transient physical\nappetite, except under the condition of a lifelong contract, was\naltogether unknown. Strict duties were imposed upon Greek wives. Duties\nwere imposed at a later period, though less strictly, upon the husband.\nUnnatural love was stigmatised, but with a levity of censure which to a\nmodern mind appears inexpressibly revolting. Some slight legal\ndisqualifications rested upon the whole class of het\u00e6r\u00e6, and, though more\nadmired, they were less respected than women who had adopted a domestic\nlife; but a combination of circumstances had raised them, in actual worth\nand in popular estimation, to an unexampled elevation, and an aversion to\nmarriage became very general, and extra-matrimonial connections were\nformed with the most perfect frankness and publicity.\n\nIf we now turn to the Roman civilisation, we shall find that some\nimportant advances had been made in the condition of women. The virtue of\nchastity has, as I have shown, been regarded in two different ways. The\nutilitarian view, which commonly prevails in countries where a political\nspirit is more powerful than a religious spirit, regards marriage as the\nideal state, and to promote the happiness, sanctity, and security of this\nstate is the main object of all its precepts. The mystical view which\nrests upon the natural feeling of shame, and which, as history proves, has\nprevailed especially where political sentiment is very low, and religious\nsentiment very strong, regards virginity as its supreme type, and marriage\nas simply the most pardonable declension from ideal purity. It is, I\nthink, a very remarkable fact, that at the head of the religious system of\nRome we find two sacerdotal bodies which appear respectively to typify\nthese ideas. The Flamens of Jupiter and the Vestal Virgins were the two\nmost sacred orders in Rome. The ministrations of each were believed to be\nvitally important to the State. Each could officiate only within the walls\nof Rome. Each was appointed with the most imposing ceremonies. Each was\nhonoured with the most profound reverence. But in one important respect\nthey differed. The Vestal was the type of virginity, and her purity was\nguarded by the most terrific penalties. The Flamen, on the other hand, was\nthe representative of Roman marriage in its strictest and holiest form. He\nwas necessarily married. His marriage was celebrated with the most solemn\nrites. It could only be dissolved by death. If his wife died, he was\ndegraded from his office.(587)\n\nOf these two orders, there can be no question that the Flamen was the most\nfaithful expression of the Roman sentiments. The Roman religion was\nessentially domestic, and it was a main object of the legislator to\nsurround marriage with every circumstance of dignity and solemnity.\nMonogamy was, from the earliest times, strictly enjoined; and it was one\nof the great benefits that have resulted from the expansion of Roman\npower, that it made this type dominant in Europe. In the legends of early\nRome we have ample evidence both of the high moral estimate of women, and\nof their prominence in Roman life. The tragedies of Lucretia and of\nVirginia display a delicacy of honour, a sense of the supreme excellence\nof unsullied purity, which no Christian nation could surpass. The legends\nof the Sabine women interceding between their parents and their husbands,\nand thus saving the infant republic, and of the mother of Coriolanus\naverting by her prayers the ruin impending over her country, entitled\nwomen to claim their share in the patriotic glories of Rome. A temple of\nVenus Calva was associated with the legend of Roman ladies, who, in an\nhour of danger, cut off their long tresses to make bowstrings for the\nsoldiers.(588) Another temple preserved to all posterity the memory of the\nfilial piety of that Roman woman who, when her mother was condemned to be\nstarved to death, obtained permission to visit her in her prison, and was\ndiscovered feeding her from her breast.(589)\n\nThe legal position, however, of the Roman wife was for a long period\nextremely low. The Roman family was constituted on the principle of the\nuncontrolled authority of its head, both over his wife and over his\nchildren, and he could repudiate the former at will. Neither the custom of\ngifts to the father of the bride, nor the custom of dowries, appears to\nhave existed in the earliest period of Roman history; but the father\ndisposed absolutely of the hand of his daughter, and sometimes even\npossessed the power of breaking off marriages that had been actually\ncontracted.(590) In the forms of marriage, however, which were usual in\nthe earlier periods of Rome, the absolute power passed into the hands of\nthe husband, and he had the right, in some cases, of putting her to\ndeath.(591) Law and public opinion combined in making matrimonial purity\nmost strict. For five hundred and twenty years, it was said, there was no\nsuch thing as a divorce in Rome.(592) Manners were so severe, that a\nsenator was censured for indecency because he had kissed his wife in the\npresence of their daughter.(593) It was considered in a high degree\ndisgraceful for a Roman mother to delegate to a nurse the duty of suckling\nher child.(594) Sumptuary laws regulated with the most minute severity all\nthe details of domestic economy.(595) The courtesan class, though probably\nnumerous and certainly uncontrolled, were regarded with much contempt. The\ndisgrace of publicly professing themselves members of it was believed to\nbe a sufficient punishment;(596) and an old law, which was probably\nintended to teach in symbol the duties of married life, enjoined that no\nsuch person should touch the altar of Juno.(597) It was related of a\ncertain \u00e6dile, that he failed to obtain redress for an assault which had\nbeen made upon him, because it had occurred in a house of ill-fame, in\nwhich it was disgraceful for a Roman magistrate to be found.(598) The\nsanctity of female purity was believed to be attested by all nature. The\nmost savage animals became tame before a virgin.(599) When a woman walked\nnaked round a field, caterpillars and all loathsome insects fell dead\nbefore her.(600) It was said that drowned men floated on their backs, and\ndrowned women on their faces; and this, in the opinion of Roman\nnaturalists, was due to the superior purity of the latter.(601)\n\nIt was a remark of Aristotle, that the superiority of the Greeks to the\nbarbarians was shown, among other things, in the fact that the Greeks did\nnot, like other nations, regard their wives as slaves, but treated them as\nhelpmates and companions. A Roman writer has appealed, on the whole with\ngreater justice, to the treatment of wives by his fellow countrymen, as a\nproof of the superiority of Roman to Greek civilisation. He has observed\nthat while the Greeks kept their wives in a special quarter in the\ninterior of their houses, and never permitted them to sit at banquets\nexcept with their relatives, or to see any male except in the presence of\na relative, no Roman ever hesitated to lead his wife with him to the\nfeast, or to place the mother of the family at the head of his table.(602)\nWhether, in the period when wives were completely subject to the rule of\ntheir husbands, much domestic oppression occurred, it is now impossible to\nsay. A temple dedicated to a goddess named Viriplaca, whose mission was to\nappease husbands, was worshipped by Roman women on the Palatine;(603) and\na strange and improbable, if not incredible story, is related by Livy, of\nthe discovery during the Republic, of a vast conspiracy by Roman wives to\npoison their husbands.(604) On the whole, however, it is probable that the\nRoman matron was from the earliest period a name of honour;(605) that the\nbeautiful sentence of a jurisconsult of the Empire, who defined marriage\nas a lifelong fellowship of all divine and human rights,(606) expressed\nmost faithfully the feelings of the people, and that female virtue had in\nevery age a considerable place in Roman biographies.(607)\n\nI have already enumerated the chief causes of that complete dissolution of\nRoman morals which began shortly after the Punic wars, which contributed\nvery largely to the destruction of the Republic, and which attained its\nclimax under the C\u00e6sars. There are few examples in history of a revolution\npervading so completely every sphere of religious, domestic, social, and\npolitical life. Philosophical scepticism corroded the ancient religions.\nAn inundation of Eastern luxury and Eastern morals submerged all the old\nhabits of austere simplicity. The civil wars and the Empire degraded the\ncharacter of the people, and the exaggerated prudery of republican manners\nonly served to make the rebound into vice the more irresistible. In the\nfierce outburst of ungovernable and almost frantic depravity that marked\nthis evil period, the violations of female virtue were infamously\nprominent. The vast multiplication of slaves, which is in every age\npeculiarly fatal to moral purity; the fact that a great proportion of\nthose slaves were chosen from the most voluptuous provinces of the Empire;\nthe games of Flora, in which races of naked courtesans were exhibited; the\npantomimes, which derived their charms chiefly from the audacious\nindecencies of the actors; the influx of the Greek and Asiatic het\u00e6r\u00e6 who\nwere attracted by the wealth of the metropolis; the licentious paintings\nwhich began to adorn every house; the rise of Bai\u00e6, which rivalled the\nluxury and surpassed the beauty of the chief centres of Asiatic vice,\ncombining with the intoxication of great wealth suddenly acquired, with\nthe disruption, through many causes, of all the ancient habits and\nbeliefs, and with the tendency to pleasure which the closing of the paths\nof honourable political ambition by the imperial despotism, naturally\nproduced, had all their part in preparing those orgies of vice which the\nwriters of the Empire reveal. Most scholars will, I suppose, retain a\nvivid recollection of the new insight into the extent and wildness of\nhuman guilt which they obtained when they first opened the pages of\nSuetonius or Lampridius; and the sixth Satire of Juvenal paints with a\nfierce energy, though probably with the natural exaggeration of a\nsatirist, the extent to which corruption had spread among the women. It\nwas found necessary, under Tiberius, to make a special law prohibiting\nmembers of noble houses from enrolling themselves as prostitutes.(608) The\nextreme coarseness of the Roman disposition prevented sensuality from\nassuming that \u00e6sthetic character which had made it in Greece the parent of\nArt, and had very profoundly modified its influence, while the passion for\ngladiatorial shows often allied it somewhat unnaturally with cruelty.\nThere have certainly been many periods in history when virtue was more\nrare than under the C\u00e6sars; but there has probably never been a period\nwhen vice was more extravagant or uncontrolled. Young emperors especially,\nwho were surrounded by swarms of sycophants and panders, and who often\nlived in continual dread of assassination, plunged with the most reckless\nand feverish excitement into every variety of abnormal lust. The reticence\nwhich has always more or less characterised modern society and modern\nwriters was unknown, and the unblushing, undisguised obscenity of the\nEpigrams of Martial, of the Romances of Apuleius and Petronius, and of\nsome of the Dialogues of Lucian, reflected but too faithfully the spirit\nof their time.\n\nThere had arisen, too, partly through vicious causes, and partly, I\nsuppose, through the unfavourable influence which the attraction of the\npublic institutions exercised on domestic life, a great and general\nindisposition towards marriage, which Augustus attempted in vain to arrest\nby his laws against celibacy, and by conferring many privileges on the\nfathers of three children.(609) A singularly curious speech is preserved,\nwhich is said to have been delivered on this subject, shortly before the\nclose of the Republic, by Metellus Numidicus, in order, if possible, to\novercome this indisposition. \u201cIf, Romans,\u201d he said, \u201cwe could live without\nwives, we should all keep free from that source of trouble; but since\nnature has ordained that men can neither live sufficiently agreeably with\nwives, nor at all without them, let us consider the perpetual endurance of\nour race rather than our own brief enjoyment.\u201d(610)\n\nIn the midst of this torrent of corruption a great change was passing over\nthe legal position of Roman women. They had at first been in a condition\nof absolute subjection or subordination to their relations. They arrived,\nduring the Empire, at a point of freedom and dignity which they\nsubsequently lost, and have never altogether regained. The Romans\nrecognised two distinct classes of marriages: the stricter, and, in the\neyes of the law, more honourable, forms, which placed the woman \u201cin the\nhand\u201d of her husband and gave him an almost absolute authority over her\nperson and her property; and a less strict form, which left her legal\nposition unchanged. The former, which were general during the Republic,\nwere of three kinds\u2014the \u201cconfarreatio,\u201d which was celebrated and could\nonly be dissolved by the most solemn religious ceremonies, and was\njealously restricted to patricians; the \u201ccoemptio,\u201d which was purely\ncivil, and derived its name from a symbolical sale; and the \u201cusus,\u201d which\nwas effected by the mere cohabitation of a woman with a man without\ninterruption for the space of a year. Under the Empire, however, these\nkinds of marriage became almost wholly obsolete; a laxer form, resting\nupon a simple mutual agreement, without any religious or civil ceremony,\nwas general, and it had this very important consequence, that the woman so\nmarried remained, in the eyes of the law, in the family of her father, and\nwas under his guardianship, not under the guardianship of her husband. But\nthe old _patria potestas_ had become completely obsolete, and the\npractical effect of the general adoption of this form of marriage was the\nabsolute legal independence of the wife. With the exception of her dowry,\nwhich passed into the hands of her husband, she held her property in her\nown right; she inherited her share of the wealth of her father, and she\nretained it altogether independently of her husband. A very considerable\nportion of Roman wealth thus passed into the uncontrolled possession of\nwomen. The private man of business of the wife was a favourite character\nwith the comedians, and the tyranny exercised by rich wives over their\nhusbands\u2014to whom it is said they sometimes lent money at high interest\u2014a\ncontinual theme of satirists.(611)\n\nA complete revolution had thus passed over the constitution of the family.\nInstead of being constructed on the principle of autocracy, it was\nconstructed on the principle of coequal partnership. The legal position of\nthe wife had become one of complete independence, while her social\nposition was one of great dignity. The more conservative spirits were\nnaturally alarmed at the change, and two measures were taken to arrest it.\nThe Oppian law was designed to restrain the luxury of women; but, in spite\nof the strenuous exertions of Cato, this law was speedily repealed.(612) A\nmore important measure was the Voconian law, which restricted within very\nnarrow limits the property which women might inherit; but public opinion\nnever fully acquiesced in it, and by several legal subterfuges its\noperation was partially evaded.(613)\n\nAnother and a still more important consequence resulted from the changed\nform of marriage. Being looked upon merely as a civil contract, entered\ninto for the happiness of the contracting parties, its continuance\ndepended upon mutual consent. Either party might dissolve it at will, and\nthe dissolution gave both parties a right to remarry. There can be no\nquestion that under this system the obligations of marriage were treated\nwith extreme levity. We find Cicero repudiating his wife Terentia, because\nhe desired a new dowry;(614) Augustus compelling the husband of Livia to\nrepudiate her when she was already pregnant, that he might marry her\nhimself;(615) Cato ceding his wife, with the consent of her father, to his\nfriend Hortensius, and resuming her after his death;(616) M\u00e6cenas\ncontinually changing his wife;(617) Sempronius Sophus repudiating his\nwife, because she had once been to the public games without his\nknowledge;(618) Paulus \u00c6milius taking the same step without assigning any\nreason, and defending himself by saying, \u201cMy shoes are new and well made,\nbut no one knows where they pinch me.\u201d(619) Nor did women show less\nalacrity in repudiating their husbands. Seneca denounced this evil with\nespecial vehemence, declaring that divorce in Rome no longer brought with\nit any shame, and that there were women who reckoned their years rather by\ntheir husbands than by the consuls.(620) Christians and Pagans echoed the\nsame complaint. According to Tertullian, \u201cdivorce is the fruit of\nmarriage.\u201d(621) Martial speaks of a woman who had already arrived at her\ntenth husband;(622) Juvenal, of a woman having eight husbands in five\nyears.(623) But the most extraordinary recorded instance of this kind is\nrelated by St. Jerome, who assures us that there existed at Rome a wife\nwho was married to her twenty-third husband, she herself being his\ntwenty-first wife.(624)\n\nThese are, no doubt, extreme cases; but it is unquestionable that the\nstability of married life was very seriously impaired. It would be easy,\nhowever, to exaggerate the influence of legal changes in affecting it. In\na purer state of public opinion a very wide latitude of divorce might\nprobably have been allowed to both parties, without any serious\nconsequence. The right of repudiation, which the husband had always\npossessed, was, as we have seen, in the Republic never or very rarely\nexercised. Of those who scandalised good men by the rapid recurrence of\ntheir marriages, probably most, if marriage had been indissoluble, would\nhave refrained from entering into it, and would have contented themselves\nwith many informal connections, or, if they had married, would have\ngratified their love of change by simple adultery. A vast wave of\ncorruption had flowed in upon Rome, and under any system of law it would\nhave penetrated into domestic life. Laws prohibiting all divorce have\nnever secured the purity of married life in ages of great corruption, nor\ndid the latitude which was accorded in imperial Rome prevent the existence\nof a very large amount of female virtue.\n\nI have observed, in a former chapter, that the moral contrasts shown in\nancient life surpass those of modern societies, in which we very rarely\nfind clusters of heroic or illustrious men arising in nations that are in\ngeneral very ignorant or very corrupt. I have endeavoured to account for\nthis fact by showing that the moral agencies of antiquity were in general\nmuch more fitted to develop virtue than to repress vice, and that they\nraised noble natures to almost the highest conceivable point of\nexcellence, while they entirely failed to coerce or to attenuate the\ncorruption of the depraved. In the female life of Imperial Rome we find\nthese contrasts vividly displayed. There can be no question that the moral\ntone of the sex was extremely low\u2014lower, probably, than in France under\nthe Regency, or in England under the Restoration\u2014and it is also certain\nthat frightful excesses of unnatural passion, of which the most corrupt of\nmodern courts present no parallel, were perpetrated with but little\nconcealment on the Palatine. Yet there is probably no period in which\nexamples of conjugal heroism and fidelity appear more frequently than in\nthis very age, in which marriage was most free and in which corruption was\nso general. Much simplicity of manners continued to co-exist with the\nexcesses of an almost unbridled luxury. Augustus, we are told, used to\nmake his daughters and granddaughters weave and spin, and his wife and\nsister made most of the clothes he wore.(625) The skill of wives in\ndomestic economy, and especially in spinning, was frequently noticed in\ntheir epitaphs.(626) Intellectual culture was much diffused among\nthem,(627) and we meet with several noble specimens, in the sex, of large\nand accomplished minds united with all the gracefulness of intense\nwomanhood, and all the fidelity of the truest love. Such were Cornelia,\nthe brilliant and devoted wife of Pompey,(628) Marcia, the friend, and\nHelvia, the mother of Seneca. The Northern Italian cities had in a great\ndegree escaped the contamination of the times, and Padua and Brescia were\nespecially noted for the virtue of their women.(629) In an age of\nextravagant sensuality a noble lady, named Mallonia, plunged her dagger in\nher heart rather than yield to the embraces of Tiberius.(630) To the\nperiod when the legal bond of marriage was most relaxed must be assigned\nmost of those noble examples of the constancy of Roman wives, which have\nbeen for so many generations household tales among mankind. Who has not\nread with emotion of the tenderness and heroism of Porcia, claiming her\nright to share in the trouble which clouded her husband\u2019s brow; how,\ndoubting her own courage, she did not venture to ask Brutus to reveal to\nher his enterprise till she had secretly tried her power of endurance by\npiercing her thigh with a knife; how once, and but once in his presence,\nher noble spirit failed, when, as she was about to separate from him for\nthe last time, her eye chanced to fall upon a picture of the parting\ninterview of Hector and Andromache?(631) Paulina, the wife of Seneca,\nopened her own veins in order to accompany her husband to the grave; when\nmuch blood had already flowed, her slaves and freedmen bound her wounds,\nand thus compelled her to live; but the Romans ever after observed with\nreverence the sacred pallor of her countenance\u2014the memorial of her\nact.(632) When P\u00e6tus was condemned to die by his own hand, those who knew\nthe love which his wife Arria bore him, and the heroic fervour of her\ncharacter, predicted that she would not long survive him. Thrasea, who had\nmarried her daughter, endeavoured to dissuade her from suicide by saying,\n\u201cIf I am ever called upon to perish, would you wish your daughter to die\nwith me?\u201d She answered, \u201cYes, if she will have then lived with you as long\nand as happily as I with P\u00e6tus.\u201d Her friends attempted, by carefully\nwatching her, to secure her safety, but she dashed her head against the\nwall with such force that she fell upon the ground, and then, rising up,\nshe said, \u201cI told you I would find a hard way to death if you refuse me an\neasy way.\u201d All attempts to restrain her were then abandoned, and her death\nwas perhaps the most majestic in antiquity. P\u00e6tus for a moment hesitated\nto strike the fatal blow; but his wife, taking the dagger, plunged it\ndeeply into her own breast, and then, drawing it out, gave it, all reeking\nas it was, to her husband, exclaiming, with her dying breath, \u201cMy P\u00e6tus,\nit does not pain.\u201d(633)\n\nThe form of the elder Arria towers grandly above her fellows, but many\nother Roman wives in the days of the early C\u00e6sars and of Domitian\nexhibited a very similar fidelity. Over the dark waters of the Euxine,\ninto those unknown and inhospitable regions from which the Roman\nimagination recoiled with a peculiar horror, many noble ladies freely\nfollowed their husbands, and there were some wives who refused to survive\nthem.(634) The younger Arria was the faithful companion of Thrasea during\nhis heroic life, and when he died she was only persuaded to live that she\nmight bring up their daughters.(635) She spent the closing days of her\nlife with Domitian in exile;(636) while her daughter, who was as\nremarkable for the gentleness as for the dignity of her character,(637)\nwent twice into exile with her husband Helvidius, and was once banished,\nafter his death, for defending his memory.(638) Incidental notices in\nhistorians, and a few inscriptions which have happened to remain, show us\nthat such instances were not uncommon, and in Roman epitaphs no feature is\nmore remarkable than the deep and passionate expressions of conjugal love\nthat continually occur.(639) It would be difficult to find a more touching\nimage of that love, than the medallion which is so common on the Roman\nsarcophagi, in which husband and wife are represented together, each with\nan arm thrown fondly over the shoulder of the other, united in death as\nthey had been in life, and meeting it with an aspect of perfect calm,\nbecause they were companions in the tomb.\n\nIn the latter days of the Pagan Empire some measures were taken to repress\nthe profligacy that was so prevalent. Domitian enforced the old Scantinian\nlaw against unnatural love.(640) Vespasian moderated the luxury of the\ncourt; Macrinus caused those who had committed adultery to be bound\ntogether and burnt alive.(641) A practice of men and women bathing\ntogether was condemned by Hadrian, and afterwards by Alexander Severus,\nbut was only finally suppressed by Constantine. Alexander Severus and\nPhilip waged an energetic war against panders.(642) The extreme excesses\nof this, as of most forms of vice, were probably much diminished after the\naccession of the Antonines; but Rome continued to be a centre of very\ngreat corruption till the influence of Christianity, the removal of the\ncourt to Constantinople, and the impoverishment that followed the\nbarbarian conquests, in a measure corrected the evil.\n\nAmong the moralists, however, some important steps were taken. One of the\nmost important was a very clear assertion of the reciprocity of that\nobligation to fidelity in marriage which in the early stages of society\nhad been imposed almost exclusively upon wives.(643) The legends of\nClytemnestra and of Medea reveal the feelings of fierce resentment which\nwere sometimes produced among Greek wives by the almost unlimited\nindulgence that was accorded to their husbands;(644) and it is told of\nAndromache, as the supreme instance of her love of Hector, that she cared\nfor his illegitimate children as much as for her own.(645) In early Rome,\nthe obligations of husbands were never, I imagine, altogether unfelt; but\nthey were rarely or never enforced, nor were they ever regarded as bearing\nany kind of equality to those imposed upon the wife. The term adultery,\nand all the legal penalties connected with it, were restricted to the\ninfractions by a wife of the nuptial tie. Among the many instances of\nmagnanimity recorded of Roman wives, few are more touching than that of\nTertia \u00c6milia, the faithful wife of Scipio. She discovered that her\nhusband had become enamoured of one of her slaves; but she bore her pain\nin silence, and when he died she gave liberty to her captive, for she\ncould not bear that she should remain in servitude whom her dear lord had\nloved.(646)\n\nAristotle had clearly asserted the duty of husbands to observe in marriage\nthe same fidelity as they expected from their wives,(647) and at a later\nperiod both Plutarch and Seneca enforced this duty in the strongest and\nmost unequivocal manner.(648) The degree to which, in theory at least, it\nwon its way in Roman life is shown by its recognition as a legal maxim by\nUlpian,(649) and by its appearance in a formal judgment of Antoninus Pius,\nwho, while issuing, at the request of a husband, a condemnation for\nadultery against a guilty wife, appended to it this remarkable condition:\n\u201cProvided always it is established that by your life you gave her an\nexample of fidelity. It would be unjust that a husband should exact a\nfidelity he does not himself keep.\u201d(650)\n\nAnother change, which may be dimly descried in the later Pagan society,\nwas a tendency to regard purity rather in a mystical point of view, as\nessentially good, than in the utilitarian point of view. This change\nresulted chiefly from the rise of the Neoplatonic and Pythagorean\nphilosophies, which concurred in regarding the body, with its passions, as\nessentially evil, and in representing all virtue as a purification from\nits taint. Its most important consequence was a somewhat stricter view of\npre-nuptial unchastity, which in the case of men, and when it was not\nexcessive, and did not take the form of adultery, had previously been\nuncensured, or was looked upon with a disapprobation so slight as scarcely\nto amount to censure. The elder Cato had expressly justified it;(651) and\nCicero has left us an extremely curious judgment on the subject, which\nshows at a glance the feelings of the people, and the vast revolution\nthat, under the influence of Christianity, has been effected in, at least,\nthe professions of mankind. \u201cIf there be any one,\u201d he says, \u201cwho thinks\nthat young men should be altogether restrained from the love of\ncourtesans, he is indeed very severe. I am not prepared to deny his\nposition; but he differs not only from the licence of our age, but also\nfrom the customs and allowances of our ancestors. When, indeed, was this\nnot done? When was it blamed? When was it not allowed? When was that which\nis now lawful not lawful?\u201d(652) Epictetus, who on most subjects was among\nthe most austere of the Stoics, recommends his disciples to abstain, \u201cas\nfar as possible,\u201d from pre-nuptial connections, and at least from those\nwhich were adulterous and unlawful, but not to blame those who were less\nstrict.(653) The feeling of the Romans is curiously exemplified in the\nlife of Alexander Severus, who, of all the emperors, was probably the most\nenergetic in legislating against vice. When appointing a provincial\ngovernor, he was accustomed to provide him with horses and servants, and,\nif he was unmarried, with a concubine, \u201cbecause,\u201d as the historian very\ngravely observes, \u201cit was impossible that he could exist without\none.\u201d(654)\n\nWhat was written among the Pagans in opposition to these views was not\nmuch, but it is worthy of notice, as illustrating the tendency that had\narisen. Musonius Rufus distinctly and emphatically asserted that no union\nof the sexes other than marriage was permissible.(655) Dion Chrysostom\ndesired prostitution to be suppressed by law. The ascetic notion of the\nimpurity even of marriage may be faintly traced. Apollonius of Tyana\nlived, on this ground, a life of celibacy.(656) Zenobia refused to cohabit\nwith her husband, except so far as was necessary for the production of an\nheir.(657) Hypatia is said, like many Christian saints, to have maintained\nthe position of a virgin wife.(658) The belief in the impurity of all\ncorporeal things, and in the duty of rising above them, was in the third\ncentury strenuously enforced.(659) Marcus Aurelius and Julian were both\nadmirable representatives of the best Pagan spirit of their time. Each of\nthem lost his wife early, each was eulogised by his biographer for the\nvirtue he manifested after her death; but there is a curious and\ncharacteristic difference in the forms which that virtue assumed. Marcus\nAurelius, we are told, did not wish to bring into his house a stepmother\nto rule over his children, and accordingly took a concubine.(660) Julian\never after lived in perfect continence.(661)\n\nThe foregoing facts, which I have given in the most condensed form, and\nalmost unaccompanied by criticism or by comment, will be sufficient, I\nhope, to exhibit the state of feeling of the Romans on this subject, and\nalso the direction in which that feeling was being modified. Those who are\nfamiliar with this order of studies will readily understand that it is\nimpossible to mark out with precision the chronology of a moral sentiment;\nbut there can be no question that in the latter days of the Roman Empire\nthe perceptions of men on this subject became more subtle and more refined\nthan they had previously been, and it is equally certain that the Oriental\nphilosophies which had superseded Stoicism largely influenced the change.\nChristianity soon constituted itself the representative of the new\ntendency. It regarded purity as the most important of all virtues, and it\nstrained to the utmost all the vast agencies it possessed, to enforce it.\nIn the legislation of the first Christian emperors we find many traces of\na fiery zeal. Panders were condemned to have molten lead poured down their\nthroats. In the case of rape, not only the ravisher, but even the injured\nperson, if she consented to the act, was put to death.(662) A great\nservice was done to the cause both of purity and of philanthropy, by a law\nwhich permitted actresses, on receiving baptism, to abandon their\nprofession, which had been made a form of slavery, and was virtually a\nslavery to vice.(663) Certain musical girls, who were accustomed to sing\nor play at the banquets of the rich, and who were regarded with extreme\nhorror by the Fathers, were suppressed, and a very stringent law forbade\nthe revival of the class.(664)\n\nSide by side with the civil legislation, the penitential legislation of\nthe Church was exerted in the same direction. Sins of unchastity probably\noccupy a larger place than any others in its enactments. The cases of\nunnatural love, and of mothers who had made their daughters courtesans,\nwere punished by perpetual exclusion from communion, and a crowd of minor\noffences were severely visited. The ascetic passion increased the\nprominence of this branch of ethics, and the imaginations of men were soon\nfascinated by the pure and noble figures of the virgin martyrs of the\nChurch, who on more than one occasion fully equalled the courage of men,\nwhile they sometimes mingled with their heroism traits of the most\nexquisite feminine gentleness. For the patient endurance of excruciating\nphysical suffering, Christianity produced no more sublime figure than\nBlandina, the poor servant-girl who was martyred at Lyons; and it would be\ndifficult to find in all history a more touching picture of natural purity\nthan is contained in one simple incident of the martyrdom of St. Perpetua.\nIt is related of that saint that she was condemned to be slaughtered by a\nwild bull, and, as she fell half dead from its horns upon the sand of the\narena, it was observed that even in that awful moment her virgin modesty\nwas supreme, and her first instinctive movement was to draw together her\ndress, which had been torn in the assault.(665)\n\nA crowd of very curious popular legends also arose, which, though they are\nfor the most part without much intrinsic excellence, have their importance\nin history, as showing the force with which the imaginations of men were\nturned in this direction, and the manner in which Christianity was\nregarded as the great enemy of the passions of the flesh. Thus, St. Jerome\nrelates an incredible story of a young Christian, being, in the Diocletian\npersecution, bound with ribands of silk in the midst of a lovely garden,\nsurrounded by everything that could charm the ear and the eye, while a\nbeautiful courtesan assailed him with her blandishments, against which he\nprotected himself by biting out his tongue and spitting it in her\nface.(666) Legends are recounted of young Christian men assuming the garb\nand manners of libertines, that they might obtain access to maidens who\nhad been condemned to vice, exchanging dresses with them, and thus\nenabling them to escape.(667) St. Agnes was said to have been stripped\nnaked before the people, who all turned away their eyes except one young\nman, who instantly became blind.(668) The sister of St. Gregory of Nyssa\nwas afflicted with a cancer in her breast, but could not bear that a\nsurgeon should see it, and was rewarded for her modesty by a miraculous\ncure.(669) To the fabled zone of beauty the Christian saints opposed their\nzones of chastity, which extinguished the passion of the wearer, or would\nonly meet around the pure.(670) D\u00e6mons were said not unfrequently to have\nentered into the profligate. The garment of a girl who was possessed was\nbrought to St. Pachomius, and he discovered from it that she had a\nlover.(671) A courtesan accused St. Gregory Thaumaturgus of having been\nher lover, and having refused to pay her what he had promised. He paid the\nrequired sum, but she was immediately possessed by a daemon.(672) The\nefforts of the saints to reclaim courtesans from the path of vice created\na large class of legends. St. Mary Magdalene, St. Mary of Egypt, St. Afra,\nSt. Pelagia, St. Thais, and St. Theodota, in the early Church, as well as\nSt. Marguerite of Cortona, and Clara of Rimini, in the middle ages, had\nbeen courtesans.(673) St. Vitalius, it is said, was accustomed every night\nto visit the dens of vice in his neighbourhood, to give the inmates money\nto remain without sin for that night, and to offer up prayers for their\nconversion.(674) It is related of St. Serapion, that, as he was passing\nthrough a village in Egypt, a courtesan beckoned to him. He promised at a\ncertain hour to visit her. He kept his appointment, but declared that\nthere was a duty which his order imposed on him. He fell down on his knees\nand began repeating the Psalter, concluding every psalm with a prayer for\nhis hostess. The strangeness of the scene, and the solemnity of his tone\nand manner, overawed and fascinated her. Gradually her tears began to\nflow. She knelt beside him and began to join in his prayers. He heeded her\nnot, but hour after hour continued in the same stern and solemn voice,\nwithout rest and without interruption, to repeat his alternate prayers and\npsalms, till her repentance rose to a paroxysm of terror, and, as the grey\nmorning streaks began to illumine the horizon, she fell half dead at his\nfeet, imploring him with broken sobs to lead her anywhere where she might\nexpiate the sins of her past.(675)\n\nBut the services rendered by the ascetics in imprinting on the minds of\nmen a profound and enduring conviction of the importance of chastity,\nthough extremely great, were seriously counterbalanced by their noxious\ninfluence upon marriage. Two or three beautiful descriptions of this\ninstitution have been culled out of the immense mass of the patristic\nwritings;(676) but, in general, it would be difficult to conceive anything\nmore coarse or more repulsive than the manner in which they regarded\nit.(677) The relation which nature has designed for the noble purpose of\nrepairing the ravages of death, and which, as Linn\u00e6us has shown, extends\neven through the world of flowers, was invariably treated as a consequence\nof the fall of Adam, and marriage was regarded almost exclusively in its\nlowest aspect. The tender love which it elicits, the holy and beautiful\ndomestic qualities that follow in its train, were almost absolutely\nomitted from consideration.(678) The object of the ascetic was to attract\nmen to a life of virginity, and, as a necessary consequence, marriage was\ntreated as an inferior state. It was regarded as being necessary, indeed,\nand therefore justifiable, for the propagation of the species, and to free\nmen from greater evils; but still as a condition of degradation from which\nall who aspired to real sanctity should fly. To \u201ccut down by the axe of\nVirginity the wood of Marriage,\u201d was, in the energetic language of St.\nJerome, the end of the saint;(679) and if he consented to praise marriage,\nit was merely because it produced virgins.(680) Even when the bond had\nbeen formed, the ascetic passion retained its sting. We have already seen\nhow it embittered other relations of domestic life. Into this, the holiest\nof all, it infused a tenfold bitterness. Whenever any strong religious\nfervour fell upon a husband or a wife, its first effect was to make a\nhappy union impossible. The more religious partner immediately desired to\nlive a life of solitary asceticism, or at least, if no ostensible\nseparation took place, an unnatural life of separation in marriage. The\nimmense place this order of ideas occupies in the hortatory writings of\nthe Fathers, and in the legends of the saints, must be familiar to all who\nhave any knowledge of this department of literature. Thus\u2014to give but a\nvery few examples\u2014St. Nilus, when he had already two children, was seized\nwith a longing for the prevailing asceticism, and his wife was persuaded,\nafter many tears, to consent to their separation.(681) St. Ammon, on the\nnight of his marriage, proceeded to greet his bride with an harangue upon\nthe evils of the married state, and they agreed, in consequence, at once\nto separate.(682) St. Melania laboured long and earnestly to induce her\nhusband to allow her to desert his bed, before he would consent.(683) St.\nAbraham ran away from his wife on the night of his marriage.(684) St.\nAlexis, according to a somewhat later legend, took the same step, but many\nyears after returned from Jerusalem to his father\u2019s house, in which his\nwife was still lamenting her desertion, begged and received a lodging as\nan act of charity, and lived there unrecognised and unknown till his\ndeath.(685) St. Gregory of Nyssa\u2014who was so unfortunate as to be\nmarried\u2014wrote a glowing eulogy of virginity, in the course of which he\nmournfully observed that this privileged state could never be his. He\nresembled, he assures us, an ox that was ploughing a field, the fruit of\nwhich he must never enjoy; or a thirsty man, who was gazing on a stream of\nwhich he never can drink; or a poor man, whose poverty seems the more\nbitter as he contemplates the wealth of his neighbours; and he proceeded\nto descant in feeling terms upon the troubles of matrimony.(686) Nominal\nmarriages, in which the partners agreed to shun the marriage bed, became\nnot uncommon. The emperor Henry II., Edward the Confessor, of England, and\nAlphonso II., of Spain, gave examples of it. A very famous and rather\npicturesque history of this kind is related by Gregory of Tours. A rich\nyoung Gaul, named Injuriosus, led to his home a young bride to whom he was\npassionately attached. That night, she confessed to him, with tears, that\nshe had vowed to keep her virginity, and that she regretted bitterly the\nmarriage into which her love for him had betrayed her. He told her that\nthey should remain united, but that she should still observe her vow; and\nhe fulfilled his promise. When, after several years, she died, her\nhusband, in laying her in the tomb, declared, with great solemnity, that\nhe restored her to God as immaculate as he had received her; and then a\nsmile lit up the face of the dead woman, and she said, \u201cWhy do you tell\nthat which no one asked you?\u201d The husband soon afterwards died, and his\ncorpse, which had been laid in a distinct compartment from that of his\nwife in the tomb, was placed side by side with it by the angels.(687)\n\nThe extreme disorders which such teaching produced in domestic life, and\nalso the extravagances which grew up among some heretics, naturally\nalarmed the more judicious leaders of the Church, and it was ordained that\nmarried persons should not enter into an ascetic life, except by mutual\nconsent.(688) The ascetic ideal, however, remained unchanged. To abstain\nfrom marriage, or in marriage to abstain from a perfect union, was\nregarded as a proof of sanctity, and marriage was viewed in its coarsest\nand most degraded form. The notion of its impurity took many forms, and\nexercised for some centuries an extremely wide influence over the Church.\nThus, it was the custom during the middle ages to abstain from the\nmarriage bed during the night after the ceremony, in honour of the\nsacrament.(689) It was expressly enjoined that no married persons should\nparticipate in any of the great Church festivals if the night before they\nhad lain together, and St. Gregory the Great tells of a young wife who was\npossessed by a d\u00e6mon, because she had taken part in a procession of St.\nSebastian, without fulfilling this condition.(690) The extent to which the\nfeeling on the subject was carried is shown by the famous vision of\nAlberic in the twelfth century, in which a special place of torture,\nconsisting of a lake of mingled lead, pitch, and resin is represented as\nexisting in hell for the punishment of married people who had lain\ntogether on Church festivals or fast days.(691)\n\nTwo other consequences of this way of regarding marriage were a very\nstrong disapproval of second marriages, and a very strong desire to secure\ncelibacy in the clergy. The first of these notions had existed, though in\na very different form, and connected with very different motives, among\nthe early Romans, who were accustomed, we are told, to honour with the\ncrown of modesty those who were content with one marriage, and to regard\nmany marriages as a sign of illegitimate intemperance.(692) This opinion\nappears to have chiefly grown out of a very delicate and touching feeling\nwhich had taken deep root in the Roman mind, that the affection a wife\nowes her husband is so profound and so pure that it must not cease even\nwith his death; that it should guide and consecrate all her subsequent\nlife, and that it never can be transferred to another object. Virgil, in\nvery beautiful lines, puts this sentiment into the mouth of Dido;(693) and\nseveral examples are recorded of Roman wives, sometimes in the prime of\nyouth and beauty, upon the death of their husbands, devoting the remainder\nof their lives to retirement and to the memory of the dead.(694) Tacitus\nheld up the Germans as in this respect a model to his countrymen,(695) and\nthe epithet \u201cunivir\u00e6\u201d inscribed on many Roman tombs shows how this\ndevotion was practised and valued.(696) The family of Camillus was\nespecially honoured for the absence of second marriages among its\nmembers.(697) \u201cTo love a wife when living,\u201d said one of the latest Roman\npoets, \u201cis a pleasure; to love her when dead is an act of religion.\u201d(698)\nIn the case of men, the propriety of abstaining from second marriages was\nprobably not felt so strongly as in the case of women, and what feeling on\nthe subject existed was chiefly due to another motive\u2014affection for the\nchildren, whose interests, it was thought, might be injured by a\nstepmother.(699)\n\nThe sentiment which thus recoiled from second marriages passed with a\nvastly increased strength into ascetic Christianity, but it was based upon\naltogether different grounds. We find, in the first place, that an\naffectionate remembrance of the husband had altogether vanished from the\nmotives of the abstinence. In the next place, we may remark that the\necclesiastical writers, in perfect conformity with the extreme coarseness\nof their views about the sexes, almost invariably assumed that the motive\nto second or third marriages must be simply the force of the animal\npassions. The Montanists and the Novatians absolutely condemned second\nmarriages.(700) The orthodox pronounced them lawful, on account of the\nweakness of human nature, but they viewed them with the most emphatic\ndisapproval,(701) partly because they considered them manifest signs of\nincontinence, and partly because they regarded them as inconsistent with\ntheir doctrine that marriage is an emblem of the union of Christ with the\nChurch. The language of the Fathers on this subject appears to a modern\nmind most extraordinary, and, but for their distinct and reiterated\nassertion that they considered these marriages permissible,(702) would\nappear to amount to a peremptory condemnation. Thus\u2014to give but a few\nsamples\u2014digamy, or second marriage, is described by Athenagoras as \u201ca\ndecent adultery.\u201d(703) \u201cFornication,\u201d according to Clement of Alexandria,\n\u201cis a lapse from one marriage into many.\u201d(704) \u201cThe first Adam,\u201d said St.\nJerome, \u201chad one wife; the second Adam had no wife. They who approve of\ndigamy hold forth a third Adam, who was twice married, whom they\nfollow.\u201d(705) \u201cConsider,\u201d he again says, \u201cthat she who has been twice\nmarried, though she be an old, and decrepit, and poor woman, is not deemed\nworthy to receive the charity of the Church. But if the bread of charity\nis taken from her, how much more that bread which descends from\nheaven!\u201d(706) \u201cDigamists,\u201d according to Origen, \u201care saved in the name of\nChrist, but are by no means crowned by him.\u201d(707) \u201cBy this text,\u201d said St.\nGregory Nazianzen, speaking of St. Paul\u2019s comparison of marriage to the\nunion of Christ with the Church, \u201csecond marriages seem to me to be\nreproved. If there are two Christs there may be two husbands or two wives.\nIf there is but one Christ, one Head of the Church, there is but one\nflesh\u2014a second is repelled. But if he forbids a second, what is to be said\nof third marriages? The first is law, the second is pardon and indulgence,\nthe third is iniquity; but he who exceeds this number is manifestly\nbestial.\u201d(708) Digamists were excluded from the priesthood and from the\ndistributions of Church charity; a period of penance was imposed on them\nbefore they were admitted to communion,(709) and two English statutes of\nthe Middle Ages withheld the benefit of clergy from any prisoner who had\n\u201cmarried two wives or one widow.\u201d(710) The Council of Illiberis, in the\nbeginning of the fourth century, while in general condemning baptism by\nlaymen, permitted it in case of extreme necessity; but provided that even\nin that case the officiating layman must not have been twice married.(711)\nAmong the Greeks fourth marriages were at one time deemed absolutely\nunlawful, and much controversy was excited by the Emperor Leo the Wise,\nwho, having had three wives, had taken a mistress, but afterwards, in\ndefiance of the religious feelings of his people, determined to raise her\nto the position of a wife.(712)\n\nThe subject of the celibacy of the clergy, in which the ecclesiastical\nfeelings about marriage were also shown, is an extremely large one, and I\nshall not attempt to deal with it, except in a most cursory manner.(713)\nThere are two facts connected with it which every candid student must\nadmit. The first is, that in the earliest period of the Church, the\nprivilege of marriage was accorded to the clergy. The second is, that a\nnotion of the impurity of marriage existed, and that it was felt that the\nclergy, as pre-eminently the holy class, should have less licence than\nlaymen. The first form this feeling took appears in the strong conviction\nthat a second marriage of a priest, or the marriage of a priest with a\nwidow, was unlawful and criminal.(714) This belief seems to have existed\nfrom the earliest period of the Church, and was retained with great\ntenacity and unanimity through many centuries. In the next place, we find\nfrom an extremely early date an opinion, that it was an act of virtue, at\na later period that it was an act of duty, for priests after ordination to\nabstain from cohabiting with their wives. The Council of Nice refrained,\nby the advice of Paphnutius, who was himself a scrupulous celibate, from\nimposing this last rule as a matter of necessity;(715) but in the course\nof the fourth century it was a recognised principle that clerical\nmarriages were criminal. They were celebrated, however, habitually, and\nusually with the greatest openness. The various attitudes assumed by the\necclesiastical authorities in dealing with this subject form an extremely\ncurious page of the history of morals, and supply the most crushing\nevidence of the evils which have been produced by the system of celibacy.\nI can at present, however, only refer to the vast mass of evidence which\nhas been collected on the subject, derived from the writings of Catholic\ndivines and from the decrees of Catholic Councils during the space of many\ncenturies. It is a popular illusion, which is especially common among\nwriters who have little direct knowledge of the middle ages, that the\natrocious immorality of monasteries, in the century before the\nReformation, was a new fact, and that the ages when the faith of men was\nundisturbed, were ages of great moral purity. In fact, it appears, from\nthe uniform testimony of the ecclesiastical writers, that ecclesiastical\nimmorality in the eighth and three following centuries was little if at\nall less outrageous than in any other period, while the Papacy, during\nalmost the whole of the tenth century, was held by men of infamous lives.\nSimony was nearly universal.(716) Barbarian chieftains married at an early\nage, and totally incapable of restraint, occupied the leading positions in\nthe Church, and gross irregularities speedily became general. An Italian\nbishop of the tenth century epigrammatically described the morals of his\ntime, when he declared, that if he were to enforce the canons against\nunchaste people administering ecclesiastical rites, no one would be left\nin the Church except the boys; and if he were to observe the canons\nagainst bastards, these also must be excluded.(717) The evil acquired such\nmagnitude that a great feudal clergy, bequeathing the ecclesiastical\nbenefices from father to son, appeared more than once likely to\narise.(718) A tax called \u201cCulagium,\u201d which was in fact a licence to\nclergymen to keep concubines, was during several centuries systematically\nlevied by princes.(719) Sometimes the evil, by its very extension,\ncorrected itself. Priestly marriages were looked upon as normal events not\nimplying any guilt, and in the eleventh century several instances are\nrecorded in which they were not regarded as any impediment to the power of\nworking miracles.(720) But this was a rare exception. From the earliest\nperiod a long succession of Councils as well as such men as St. Boniface,\nSt. Gregory the Great, St. Peter Damiani, St. Dunstan, St. Anselm,\nHildebrand and his successors in the Popedom, denounced priestly marriage\nor concubinage as an atrocious crime, and the habitual life of the priests\nwas, in theory at least, generally recognised as a life of sin.\n\nIt is not surprising that, having once broken their vows and begun to live\nwhat they deemed a life of habitual sin, the clergy should soon have sunk\nfar below the level of the laity. We may not lay much stress on such\nisolated instances of depravity as that of Pope John XXIII., who was\ncondemned among many other crimes for incest, and for adultery;(721) or\nthe abbot-elect of St. Augustine, at Canterbury, who in 1171 was found, on\ninvestigation, to have seventeen illegitimate children in a single\nvillage;(722) or an abbot of St. Pelayo, in Spain, who in 1130 was proved\nto have kept no less than seventy concubines;(723) or Henry III., Bishop\nof Li\u00e8ge, who was deposed in 1274 for having sixty-five illegitimate\nchildren;(724) but it is impossible to resist the evidence of a long chain\nof Councils and ecclesiastical writers, who conspire in depicting far\ngreater evils than simple concubinage. It was observed that when the\npriests actually took wives the knowledge that these connections were\nillegal was peculiarly fatal to their fidelity, and bigamy and extreme\nmobility of attachments were especially common among them. The writers of\nthe middle ages are full of accounts of nunneries that were like brothels,\nof the vast multitude of infanticides within their walls, and of that\ninveterate prevalence of incest among the clergy, which rendered it\nnecessary again and again to issue the most stringent enactments that\npriests should not be permitted to live with their mothers or sisters.\nUnnatural love, which it had been one of the great services of\nChristianity almost to eradicate from the world, is more than once spoken\nof as lingering in the monasteries; and, shortly before the Reformation,\ncomplaints became loud and frequent of the employment of the confessional\nfor the purposes of debauchery.(725) The measures taken on the subject\nwere very numerous and severe. At first, the evil chiefly complained of\nwas the clandestine marriage of priests, and especially their intercourse\nwith wives whom they had married previous to their ordination. Several\nCouncils issued their anathemas against priests \u201cwho had improper\nrelations with their wives;\u201d and rules were made that priests should\nalways sleep in the presence of a subordinate clerk; and that they should\nonly meet their wives in the open air and before at least two witnesses.\nMen were, however, by no means unanimous in their way of regarding this\nmatter. Synesius, when elected to a bishopric, at first declined, boldly\nalleging as one of his reasons, that he had a wife whom he loved dearly,\nand who, he hoped, would bear him many sons, and that he did not mean to\nseparate from her or visit her secretly as an adulterer.(726) A Bishop of\nLaon, at a later date, who was married to a niece of St. R\u00e9my, and who\nremained with his wife till after he had a son and a daughter, quaintly\nexpressed his penitence by naming them respectively Latro and\nVulpecula.(727) St. Gregory the Great describes the virtue of a priest,\nwho, through motives of piety, had discarded his wife. As he lay dying,\nshe hastened to him to watch the bed which for forty years she had not\nbeen allowed to share, and, bending over what seemed the inanimate form of\nher husband, she tried to ascertain whether any breath still remained,\nwhen the dying saint, collecting his last energies, exclaimed, \u201cWoman,\nbegone; take away the straw; there is fire yet.\u201d(728) The destruction of\npriestly marriage is chiefly due to Hildebrand, who pursued this object\nwith the most untiring resolution. Finding that his appeals to the\necclesiastical authorities and to the civil rulers were insufficient, he\nboldly turned to the people, exhorted them, in defiance of all Church\ntraditions, to withdraw their obedience from married priests, and kindled\namong them a fierce fanaticism of asceticism, which speedily produced a\nfierce persecution of the offending pastors. Their wives, in immense\nnumbers, were driven forth with hatred and with scorn; and many crimes,\nand much intolerable suffering, followed the disruption. The priests\nsometimes strenuously resisted. At Cambrai, in A.D. 1077, they burnt alive\nas a heretic a zealot who was maintaining the doctrines of Hildebrand. In\nEngland, half a century later, they succeeded in surprising a Papal legate\nin the arms of a courtesan, a few hours after he had delivered a fierce\ndenunciation of clerical unchastity.(729) But Papal resolution supported\nby popular fanaticism won the victory. Pope Urban II. gave licence to the\nnobles to reduce to slavery the wives whom priests had obstinately refused\nto abandon, and after a few more acts of severity priestly marriage became\nobsolete. The extent, however, of the disorders that still existed, is\nshown by the mournful confessions of ecclesiastical writers, by the\nuniform and indignant testimony of the poets and prose satirists who\npreceded the Reformation, by the atrocious immoralities disclosed in the\nmonasteries at the time of their suppression, and by the significant\nprudence of many lay Catholics, who were accustomed to insist that their\npriest should take a concubine for the protection of the families of his\nparishioners.(730)\n\nIt is scarcely possible to conceive a more demoralising influence than a\npriesthood living such a life as I have described. In Protestant\ncountries, where the marriage of the clergy is fully recognised, it has,\nindeed, been productive of the greatest and the most unequivocal benefits.\nNowhere, it may be confidently asserted, does Christianity assume a more\nbeneficial or a more winning form than in those gentle clerical households\nwhich stud our land, constituting, as Coleridge said, \u201cthe one idyll of\nmodern life,\u201d the most perfect type of domestic peace, the centre of\ncivilisation in the remotest village. Notwithstanding some class\nnarrowness and professional bigotry, notwithstanding some unworthy, but\nhalf unconscious mannerism, which is often most unjustly stigmatised as\nhypocrisy, it would be difficult to find in any other quarter so much\nhappiness at once diffused and enjoyed, or so much virtue attained with so\nlittle tension or struggle. Combining with his sacred calling a warm\nsympathy with the intellectual, social, and political movements of his\ntime, possessing the enlarged practical knowledge of a father of a family,\nand entering with a keen zest into the occupations and the amusements of\nhis parishioners, a good clergyman will rarely obtrude his religious\nconvictions into secular spheres, but yet will make them apparent in all.\nThey will be revealed by a higher and deeper moral tone, by a more\nscrupulous purity in word and action, by an all-pervasive gentleness,\nwhich refines, and softens, and mellows, and adds as much to the charm as\nto the excellence of the character in which it is displayed. In visiting\nthe sick, relieving the poor, instructing the young, and discharging a\nthousand delicate offices for which a woman\u2019s tact is especially needed,\nhis wife finds a sphere of labour which is at once intensely active and\nintensely feminine, and her example is not less beneficial than her\nministrations.\n\nAmong the Catholic priesthood, on the other hand, where the vow of\ncelibacy is faithfully observed, a character of a different type is\nformed, which with very grave and deadly faults combines some of the\nnoblest excellences to which humanity can attain. Separated from most of\nthe ties and affections of earth, viewing life chiefly through the\ndistorted medium of the casuist or the confessional, and deprived of those\nrelationships which more than any others soften and expand the character,\nthe Catholic priests have been but too often conspicuous for their fierce\nand sanguinary fanaticism, and for their indifference to all interests\nexcept those of their Church; while the narrow range of their sympathies,\nand the intellectual servitude they have accepted, render them peculiarly\nunfitted for the office of educating the young, which they so persistently\nclaim, and which, to the great misfortune of the world, they were long\npermitted to monopolise. But, on the other hand, no other body of men have\never exhibited a more single-minded and unworldly zeal, refracted by no\npersonal interests, sacrificing to duty the dearest of earthly objects,\nand confronting with undaunted heroism every form of hardship, of\nsuffering, and of death.\n\nThat the middle ages, even in their darkest periods, produced many good\nand great men of the latter type it would be unjust and absurd to deny. It\ncan hardly, however, be questioned that the extreme frequency of illicit\nconnections among the clergy tended during many centuries most actively to\nlower the moral tone of the laity, and to counteract the great services in\nthe cause of purity which Christian teaching had undoubtedly effected. The\npriestly connections were rarely so fully recognised as to enable the\nmistress to fill a position like that which is now occupied by the wife of\na clergyman, and the spectacle of the chief teachers and exemplars of\nmorals living habitually in an intercourse which was acknowledged to be\nambiguous or wrong, must have acted most injuriously upon every class of\nthe community. Asceticism, proclaiming war upon human nature, produced a\nrevulsion towards its extreme opposite, and even when it was observed it\nwas frequently detrimental to purity of mind. The habit of continually\nlooking upon marriage in its coarsest light, and of regarding the\npropagation of the species as its one legitimate end, exercised a\npeculiarly perverting influence upon the imagination. The exuberant piety\nof wives who desired to live apart from their husbands often drove the\nlatter into serious irregularities.(731) The notion of sin was introduced\ninto the dearest of relationships,(732) and the whole subject was\ndistorted and degraded. It is one of the great benefits of Protestantism\nthat it did much to banish these modes of thought and feeling from the\nworld, and to restore marriage to its simplicity and its dignity. We have\na gratifying illustration of the extent to which an old superstition has\ndeclined, in the fact that when Goldsmith, in his great romance, desired\nto depict the harmless eccentricities of his simple-minded and unworldly\nvicar, he represented him as maintaining that opinion concerning the\nsinfulness of the second marriage of a clergyman which was for many\ncenturies universal in the Church.\n\nAnother injurious consequence, resulting, in a great measure, from\nasceticism, was a tendency to depreciate extremely the character and the\nposition of women. In this tendency we may detect in part the influence of\nthe earlier Jewish writings, in which an impartial observer may find\nevident traces of the common Oriental depreciation of women. The custom of\npurchase-money to the father of the bride was admitted. Polygamy was\nauthorised,(733) and practised by the wisest man on an enormous scale. A\nwoman was regarded as the origin of human ills. A period of purification\nwas appointed after the birth of every child; but, by a very significant\nprovision, it was twice as long in the case of a female as of a male\nchild.(734) \u201cThe badness of men,\u201d a Jewish writer emphatically declared,\n\u201cis better than the goodness of women.\u201d(735) The types of female\nexcellence exhibited in the early period of Jewish history are in general\nof a low order, and certainly far inferior to those of Roman history or\nGreek poetry; and the warmest eulogy of a woman in the Old Testament is\nprobably that which was bestowed upon her who, with circumstances of the\nmost aggravated treachery, had murdered the sleeping fugitive who had\ntaken refuge under her roof.\n\nThe combined influence of the Jewish writings, and of that ascetic feeling\nwhich treated women as the chief source of temptation to man, was shown in\nthose fierce invectives, which form so conspicuous and so grotesque a\nportion of the writings of the Fathers, and which contrast so curiously\nwith the adulation bestowed upon particular members of the sex. Woman was\nrepresented as the door of hell, as the mother of all human ills. She\nshould be ashamed at the very thought that she is a woman. She should live\nin continual penance, on account of the curses she has brought upon the\nworld. She should be ashamed of her dress, for it is the memorial of her\nfall. She should be especially ashamed of her beauty, for it is the most\npotent instrument of the d\u00e6mon. Physical beauty was indeed perpetually the\ntheme of ecclesiastical denunciations, though one singular exception seems\nto have been made; for it has been observed that in the middle ages the\npersonal beauty of bishops was continually noticed upon their tombs.(736)\nWomen were even forbidden by a provincial Council, in the sixth century,\non account of their impurity, to receive the Eucharist into their naked\nhands.(737) Their essentially subordinate position was continually\nmaintained.\n\nIt is probable that this teaching had its part in determining the\nprinciples of legislation concerning the sex. The Pagan laws during the\nEmpire had been continually repealing the old disabilities of women, and\nthe legislative movement in their favour continued with unabated force\nfrom Constantine to Justinian, and appeared also in some of the early laws\nof the barbarians.(738) But in the whole feudal legislation women were\nplaced in a much lower legal position than in the Pagan Empire.(739) In\naddition to the personal restrictions which grew necessarily out of the\nCatholic doctrines concerning divorce, and concerning the subordination of\nthe weaker sex, we find numerous and stringent enactments, which rendered\nit impossible for women to succeed to any considerable amount of property,\nand which almost reduced them to the alternative of marriage or a\nnunnery.(740) The complete inferiority of the sex was continually\nmaintained by the law; and that generous public opinion which in Rome had\nfrequently revolted against the injustice done to girls, in depriving them\nof the greater part of the inheritance of their fathers, totally\ndisappeared. Wherever the canon law has been the basis of legislation, we\nfind laws of succession sacrificing the interests of daughters and of\nwives,(741) and a state of public opinion which has been formed and\nregulated by these laws; nor was any serious attempt made to abolish them\ntill the close of the last century. The French revolutionists, though\nrejecting the proposal of Si\u00e9y\u00e8s and Condorcet to accord political\nemancipation to women, established at least an equal succession of sons\nand daughters, and thus initiated a great reformation of both law and\nopinion, which sooner or later must traverse the world.\n\nIn their efforts to raise the standard of purity, the Christian teachers\nderived much assistance from the incursions and the conquests of the\nbarbarians. The dissolution of vast retinues of slaves, the suspension of\nmost public games, and the general impoverishment that followed the\ninvasions, were all favourable to female virtue; and in this respect the\nvarious tribes of barbarians, however violent and lawless, were far\nsuperior to the more civilised community. Tacitus, in a very famous work,\nhad long before pourtrayed in the most flattering colours the purity of\nthe Germans. Adultery, he said, was very rare among them. The adulteress\nwas driven from the house with shaven hair, and beaten ignominiously\nthrough the village. Neither youth, nor beauty, nor wealth could enable a\nwoman who was known to have sinned to secure a husband. Polygamy was\nrestricted to the princes, who looked upon a plurality of wives rather as\na badge of dignity than as a gratification of the passions. Mothers\ninvariably gave suck to their own children. Infanticide was forbidden.\nWidows were not allowed to re-marry. The men feared captivity, much more\nfor their wives than for themselves; they believed that a sacred and\nprophetic gift resided in women; they consulted them as oracles, and\nfollowed their counsels.(742)\n\nIt is generally believed, and it is not improbable, that Tacitus in this\nwork intended to reprove the dissolute habits of his fellow-countrymen,\nand considerably over-coloured the virtue of the barbarians. Of the\nsubstantial justice, however, of his picture we have much evidence.\nSalvian, who, about three centuries later, witnessed and described the\nmanners of the barbarians who had triumphed over the Empire, attested in\nthe strongest language the contrast which their chastity presented to the\nvice of those whom they had subdued.(743) The Scandinavian mythology\nabounds in legends exhibiting the clear sentiment of the heathen tribes on\nthe subject of purity, and the awful penalties threatened in the next\nworld against the seducers.(744) The barbarian women were accustomed to\npractise medicine and to interpret dreams, and they also very frequently\naccompanied their husbands to battle, rallied their broken forces, and\neven themselves took part in the fight.(745) Augustus had discovered that\nit was useless to keep barbarian chiefs as hostages, and that the one way\nof securing the fidelity of traitors was by taking their wives, for these,\nat least, were never sacrificed. Instances of female heroism are said to\nhave occurred in the conquered nations, which might rival the most\nsplendid in the Roman annals. When Marius had vanquished an army of the\nTeutons, their wives besought the conqueror to permit them to become the\nservants of the Vestal Virgins, in order that their honour, at least,\nmight be secure in slavery. Their request was refused, and that night they\nall perished by their own hands.(746) A powerful noble once solicited the\nhand of a Galatian lady named Camma, who, faithful to her husband,\nresisted all his entreaties. Resolved at any hazard to succeed, he caused\nher husband to be assassinated, and when she took refuge in the temple of\nDiana, and enrolled herself among the priestesses, he sent noble after\nnoble to induce her to relent. After a time, he ventured himself into her\npresence. She feigned a willingness to yield, but told him it was first\nnecessary to make a libation to the goddess. She appeared as a priestess\nbefore the altar, bearing in her hand a cup of wine, which she had\npoisoned. She drank half of it herself, handed the remainder to her guilty\nlover, and when he had drained the cup to the dregs, burst into a fierce\nthanksgiving, that she had been permitted to avenge, and was soon to\nrejoin, her murdered husband.(747) Another and still more remarkable\ninstance of conjugal fidelity was furnished by a Gaulish woman named\nEpponina. Her husband, Julius Sabinus, had rebelled against Vespasian; he\nwas conquered, and might easily have escaped to Germany, but could not\nbear to abandon his young wife. He retired to a villa of his own,\nconcealed himself in subterranean cellars that were below it, and\ninstructed a freedman to spread the report that he had committed suicide,\nwhile, to account for the disappearance of his body, he set fire to the\nvilla. Epponina, hearing of the suicide, for three days lay prostrate on\nthe ground without eating. At length the freedman came to her, and told\nher that the suicide was feigned. She continued her lamentations by day,\nbut visited her husband by night. She became with child, but owing, it is\nsaid, to an ointment, she succeeded in concealing her state from her\nfriends. When the hour of parturition was at hand, she went alone into the\ncellar, and without any assistance or attendance was delivered of twins,\nwhom she brought up underground. For nine years she fulfilled her task,\nwhen Sabinus was discovered, and, to the lasting disgrace of Vespasian,\nwas executed, in spite of the supplications of his wife, who made it her\nlast request that she might be permitted to die with him.(748)\n\nThe moral purity of the barbarians was of a kind altogether different from\nthat which the ascetic movement inculcated. It was concentrated\nexclusively upon marriage. It showed itself in a noble conjugal fidelity;\nbut it was little fitted for a life of celibacy, and did not, as we have\nseen, prevent excessive disorders among the priesthood. The practice of\npolygamy among the barbarian kings was also for some centuries unchecked,\nor at least unsuppressed, by Christianity. The kings Caribert and\nChilperic had both many wives at the same time.(749) Clotaire married the\nsister of his first wife during the lifetime of the latter, who, on the\nintention of the king being announced, is reported to have said, \u201cLet my\nlord do what seemeth good in his sight, only let thy servant live in thy\nfavour.\u201d(750) Theodebert, whose general goodness of character is warmly\nextolled by the episcopal historian, abandoned his first wife on account\nof an atrocious crime which she had committed; took, during her lifetime,\nanother, to whom he had previously been betrothed; and upon the death of\nthis second wife, and while the first was still living, took a third,\nwhom, however, at a later period he murdered.(751) St. Columbanus was\nexpelled from Gaul chiefly on account of his denunciations of the polygamy\nof King Thierry.(752) Dagobert had three wives, as well as a multitude of\nconcubines.(753) Charlemagne himself had at the same time two wives, and\nhe indulged largely in concubines.(754) After this period examples of this\nnature became rare. The Popes and the bishops exercised a strict\nsupervision over domestic morals, and strenuously, and in most cases\nsuccessfully, opposed the attempts of kings and nobles to repudiate their\nwives.\n\nBut, notwithstanding these startling facts, there can be no doubt that the\ngeneral purity of the barbarians was from the first superior to that of\nthe later Romans, and it appears in many of their laws. It has been very\nhappily observed,(755) that the high value placed on this virtue is well\nillustrated by the fact that in the Salic code, while a charge of\ncowardice falsely brought against a man was only punished by a fine of\nthree solidi, a charge of unchastity falsely brought against a woman was\npunished by a fine of forty-five. The Teutonic sentiment was shown in a\nvery stern legislation against adultery and rape,(756) and curiously\nminute precautions were sometimes taken to guard against them. A law of\nthe Spanish Visigoths prohibited surgeons from bleeding any free woman\nexcept in the presence of her husband, of her nearest relative, or at\nleast of some properly appointed witness, and a Salic law imposed a fine\nof fifteen pieces of gold upon any one who improperly pressed her\nhand.(757)\n\nUnder the influence of Christianity, assisted by the barbarians, a vast\nchange passed gradually over the world. The vice we are considering was\nprobably more rare; it certainly assumed less extravagant forms, and it\nwas screened from observation with a new modesty. The theory of morals had\nbecome clearer, and the practice was somewhat improved. The extreme\ngrossness of literature had disappeared, and the more glaring violations\nof marriage were always censured and often repressed. The penitential\ndiscipline, and the exhortations of the pulpit, diffused abroad an\nimmeasurably higher sense of the importance of purity than Pagan antiquity\nhad known. St. Gregory the Great, following in the steps of some Pagan\nphilosophers,(758) strenuously urged upon mothers the duty of themselves\nsuckling their children; and many minute and stringent precepts were made\nagainst extravagances of dress and manners. The religious institutions of\nGreece and Asia Minor, which had almost consecrated prostitution, were for\never abolished, and the courtesan sank into a lower stage of degradation.\n\nBesides these changes, the duty of reciprocal fidelity in marriage was\nenforced with a new earnestness. The contrast between the levity with\nwhich the frailty of men has in most ages been regarded, and the extreme\nseverity with which women who have been guilty of the same offence have\ngenerally been treated, forms one of the most singular anomalies in moral\nhistory, and appears the more remarkable when we remember that the\ntemptation usually springs from the sex which is so readily pardoned; that\nthe sex which is visited with such crushing penalties is proverbially the\nmost weak; and that, in the case of women, but not in the case of men, the\nvice is very commonly the result of the most abject misery and poverty.\nFor this disparity of censure several reasons have been assigned. The\noffence can be more surely and easily detected, and therefore more\ncertainly punished, in the case of women than of men; and, as the duty of\nproviding for his children falls upon the father, the introduction into\nthe family of children who are not his own is a special injury to him,\nwhile illegitimate children who do not spring from adultery will probably,\non account of their father having entered into no compact to support them,\nultimately become criminals or paupers, and therefore a burden to\nsociety.(759) It may be added, I think, that several causes render the\nobservance of this virtue more difficult for one sex than for the other;\nthat its violation, when every allowance has been made for the moral\ndegradation which is a result of the existing condition of public opinion,\nis naturally more profoundly prejudicial to the character of women than of\nmen; and also that much of our feeling on these subjects is due to laws\nand moral systems which were formed by men, and were in the first instance\nintended for their own protection.\n\nThe passages in the Fathers, asserting the equality of the obligation\nimposed upon both sexes, are exceedingly unequivocal;(760) and although\nthe doctrine itself had been anticipated by Seneca and Plutarch, it had\nprobably never before, and it has never since, been so fully realised as\nin the early Church. It cannot, however, be said that the conquest has\nbeen retained. At the present day, although the standard of morals is far\nhigher than in Pagan Rome, it may be questioned whether the inequality of\nthe censure which is bestowed upon the two sexes is not as great as in the\ndays of Paganism, and that inequality is continually the cause of the most\nshameful and the most pitiable injustice. In one respect, indeed, a great\nretrogression resulted from chivalry, and long survived its decay. The\ncharacter of the seducer, and especially of the passionless seducer who\npursues his career simply as a kind of sport, and under the influence of\nno stronger motive than vanity or a spirit of adventure, has been\nglorified and idealised in the popular literature of Christendom in a\nmanner to which we can find no parallel in antiquity. When we reflect that\nthe object of such a man is by the coldest and most deliberate treachery\nto blast the lives of innocent women; when we compare the levity of his\nmotive with the irreparable injury he inflicts; and when we remember that\nhe can only deceive his victim by persuading her to love him, and can only\nruin her by persuading her to trust him, it must be owned that it would be\ndifficult to conceive a cruelty more wanton and more heartless, or a\ncharacter combining more numerous elements of infamy and of dishonour.\nThat such a character should for many centuries have been the popular\nideal of a considerable section of literature, and the boast of numbers\nwho most plume themselves upon their honour, is assuredly one of the most\nmournful facts in history, and it represents a moral deflection certainly\nnot less than was revealed in ancient Greece by the position that was\nassigned to the courtesan.\n\nThe fundamental truth, that the same act can never be at once venial for a\nman to demand, and infamous for a woman to accord, though nobly enforced\nby the early Christians, has not passed into the popular sentiment of\nChristendom. The mystical character, however, which the Church imparted to\nmarriage has been extremely influential. Partly by raising it into a\nsacrament, and partly by representing it as, in some mysterious and not\nvery definable sense, an image of the union of Christ with His Church, a\nfeeling was fostered that a lifelong union of one man and one woman is,\nunder all circumstances, the single form of intercourse between the sexes\nwhich is not illegitimate; and this conviction has acquired the force of a\nprimal moral intuition.\n\nThere can, I think, be little doubt that, in the stringency with which it\nis usually laid down, it rests not upon the law of nature, but upon\npositive law, although unassisted nature is sufficient to lead men many\nsteps in its direction. Considering the subject simply in the light of\nunaided reason, two rules comprise the whole duty of man. He must abstain\nfrom whatever injures happiness or degrades character. Under the first\nhead, he must include the more remote as well as the immediate\nconsequences of his act. He must consider how his partner will be affected\nby the union, the light in which society will view the connection, the\nprobable position of the children to be born, the effect of these births,\nand also the effect of his example upon the well-being of society at\nlarge. Some of the elements of this calculation vary in different stages\nof society. Thus, public opinion in one age will reprobate, and therefore\npunish, connections which, in another age, are fully sanctioned; and the\nprobable position of the children, as well as the effect of the births\nupon society, will depend greatly upon particular and national\ncircumstances.\n\nUnder the second head is comprised the influence of this intercourse in\nclouding or developing the moral feelings, lowering or elevating the tone\nof character, exciting or allaying the aberrations of the imagination,\nincapacitating men for pure affections or extending their range, making\nthe animal part of our nature more or less predominant. We know, by the\nintuition of our moral nature, that this predominance is always a\ndegraded, though it is not always an unhappy, condition. We also know that\nit is a law of our being, that powerful and beautiful affections, which\nhad before been latent, are evoked in some particular forms of union,\nwhile other forms of union are peculiarly fitted to deaden the affections\nand to pervert the character.\n\nIn these considerations we have ample grounds for maintaining that the\nlifelong union of one man and of one woman should be the normal or\ndominant type of intercourse between the sexes. We can prove that it is on\nthe whole most conducive to the happiness, and also to the moral\nelevation, of all parties. But beyond this point it would, I conceive, be\nimpossible to advance, except by the assistance of a special revelation.\nIt by no means follows that because this should be the dominant type it\nshould be the only one, or that the interests of society demand that all\nconnections should be forced into the same die. Connections, which were\nconfessedly only for a few years, have always subsisted side by side with\npermanent marriages; and in periods when public opinion, acquiescing in\ntheir propriety, inflicts no excommunication on one or both of the\npartners, when these partners are not living the demoralising and\ndegrading life which accompanies the consciousness of guilt, and when\nproper provision is made for the children who are born, it would be, I\nbelieve, impossible to prove, by the light of simple and unassisted\nreason, that such connections should be invariably condemned. It is\nextremely important, both for the happiness and for the moral well-being\nof men, that lifelong unions should not be effected simply under the\nimperious prompting of a blind appetite. There are always multitudes who,\nin the period of their lives when their passions are most strong, are\nincapable of supporting children in their own social rank, and who would\ntherefore injure society by marrying in it, but are nevertheless perfectly\ncapable of securing an honourable career for their illegitimate children\nin the lower social sphere to which these would naturally belong. Under\nthe conditions I have mentioned, these connections are not injurious, but\nbeneficial, to the weaker partner; they soften the differences of rank,\nthey stimulate social habits, and they do not produce upon character the\ndegrading effect of promiscuous intercourse, or upon society the injurious\neffects of imprudent marriages, one or other of which will multiply in\ntheir absence. In the immense variety of circumstances and characters,\ncases will always appear in which, on utilitarian grounds, they might seem\nadvisable.\n\nIt is necessary to dwell upon such considerations as these, if we would\nunderstand the legislation of the Pagan Empire or the changes that were\neffected by Christianity. The legislators of the Empire distinctly\nrecognised these connections, and made it a main object to authorise,\ndignify, and regulate them. The unlimited licence of divorce practically\nincluded them under the name of marriage, while that name sheltered them\nfrom stigma, and prevented many of the gravest evils of unauthorised\nunions. The word concubine also, which in the Republic had the same\nsignification as among ourselves, represented in the Empire a strictly\nlegal union\u2014an innovation which was chiefly due to Augustus, and was\ndoubtless intended as part of the legislation against celibacy, and also,\nit may be, as a corrective of the licentious habits that were general.\nThis union was in essentials merely a form of marriage, for he who, having\na concubine, took to himself either a wife or another concubine, was\nlegally guilty of adultery. Like the commonest form of marriage, it was\nconsummated without any ceremony, and was dissoluble at will. Its\npeculiarities were that it was contracted between men of patrician rank\nand freedwomen, who were forbidden by law to intermarry; that the\nconcubine, though her position was perfectly recognised and honourable,\ndid not share the rank of her partner, that she brought no dowry, and that\nher children followed her rank, and were excluded from the rank and the\ninheritance of their father.(761)\n\nAgainst these notions Christianity declared a direct and implacable\nwarfare, which was imperfectly reflected in the civil legislation, but\nappeared unequivocally in the writings of the Fathers, and in most of the\ndecrees of the Councils.(762) It taught, as a religious dogma, invariable,\ninflexible, and independent of all utilitarian calculations, that all\nforms of intercourse of the sexes, other than lifelong unions, were\ncriminal. By teaching men to regard this doctrine as axiomatic, and\ntherefore inflicting severe social penalties and deep degradation on\ntransient connections, it has profoundly modified even their utilitarian\naspect, and has rendered them in most countries furtive and disguised.\nThere is probably no other branch of ethics which has been so largely\ndetermined by special dogmatic theology, and there is none which would be\nso deeply affected by its decay.\n\nAs a part of the same movement, the purely civil marriage of the later\nPagan Empire was gradually replaced by religious marriages. There is a\nmanifest propriety in invoking a divine benediction upon an act which\nforms so important an epoch in life, and the mingling of a religious\nceremony impresses a deeper sense of the solemnity of the contract. The\nessentially religious and even mystical character imparted by Christianity\nto marriage rendered the consecration peculiarly natural, but it was only\nvery gradually that it came to be looked upon as absolutely necessary. As\nI have already noticed, it was long dispensed with in the marriage of\nslaves; and even in the case of freemen, though generally performed, it\nwas not made compulsory till the tenth century.(763) In addition to its\nprimary object of sanctifying marriage, it became in time a powerful\ninstrument in securing the authority of the priesthood, who were able to\ncompel men to submit to the conditions they imposed in the formation of\nthe most important contract of life; and the modern authorisation of civil\nmarriages, by diminishing greatly the power of the Catholic priesthood\nover domestic life, has been one of the most severe blows ecclesiastical\ninfluence has undergone.\n\nThe absolute sinfulness of divorce was at the same time strenuously\nmaintained by the Councils, which in this, as in many other points,\ndiffered widely from the civil law. Constantine restricted it to three\ncases of crime on the part of the husband, and three on the part of the\nwife; but the habits of the people were too strong for his enactments,\nand, after one or two changes in the law, the full latitude of divorce\nreappeared in the Justinian Code. The Fathers, on the other hand, though\nthey hesitated a little about the case of a divorce which followed an act\nof adultery on the part of the wife,(764) had no hesitation whatever in\npronouncing all other divorces to be criminal, and periods of penitential\ndiscipline were imposed upon Christians who availed themselves of the\nprivileges of the civil law.(765) For many centuries this duality of\nlegislation continued. The barbarian laws restricted divorce by imposing\nsevere fines on those who repudiated their wives. Charlemagne pronounced\ndivorce to be criminal, but did not venture to make it penal, and he\npractised it himself. On the other hand, the Church threatened with\nexcommunication, and in some cases actually launched its thunders against,\nthose who were guilty of it. It was only in the twelfth century that the\nvictory was definitely achieved, and the civil law, adopting the principle\nof the canon law, prohibited all divorce.(766)\n\nI do not propose in the present work to examine how far this total\nprohibition has been for the happiness or the moral well-being of men. I\nwill simply observe that, though it is now often defended, it was not\noriginally imposed in Christian nations, upon utilitarian grounds, but was\nbased upon the sacramental character of marriage, upon the belief that\nmarriage is the special symbol of the perpetual union of Christ with His\nChurch, and upon a well-known passage in the Gospels. The stringency of\nthe Catholic doctrine, which forbids the dissolution of marriage even in\nthe case of adultery, has been considerably relaxed by modern legislation,\nand there can, I think, be little doubt that further steps will yet be\ntaken in the same direction; but the vast change that was effected in both\npractice and theory since the unlimited licence of the Pagan Empire must\nbe manifest to all.\n\nIt was essential, or at least very important, that a union which was so\nsolemn and so irrevocable should be freely contracted. The sentiment of\nthe Roman patriots towards the close of the Republic was that marriage\nshould be regarded as a means of providing children for the State, and\nshould be entered into as a matter of duty with that view, and the laws of\nAugustus had imposed many disqualifications on those who abstained from\nit. Both of these inducements to marriage passed away under the influence\nof Christianity. The popular sentiment disappeared with the decline of\ncivic virtues. The laws were rescinded under the influence of the ascetic\nenthusiasm which made men regard the state of celibacy as pre-eminently\nholy.\n\nThere was still one other important condition to be attained by\ntheologians in order to realise their ideal type of marriage. It was to\nprevent the members of the Church from intermarrying with those whose\nreligious opinions differed from their own. Mixed marriages, it has been\ntruly said, may do more than almost any other influence to assuage the\nrancour and the asperity of sects, but it must be added that a\nconsiderable measure of tolerance must have been already attained before\nthey become possible. In a union in which each partner believes and\nrealises that the other is doomed to an eternity of misery there can be no\nreal happiness, no sympathy, no trust; and a domestic agreement that some\nof the children should be educated in one religion and some in the other\nwould be impossible when each parent believed it to be an agreement that\nsome children should be doomed to hell.\n\nThe domestic unhappiness arising from differences of belief was probably\nalmost or altogether unknown in the world before the introduction of\nChristianity; for, although differences of opinion may have before\nexisted, the same momentous consequences were not attached to them. It has\nbeen the especial bane of periods of great religious change, such as the\nconversion of the Roman Empire, or the Reformation, or our own day when\nfar more serious questions than those which agitated the sixteenth century\nare occupying the attention of a large proportion of thinkers and\nscholars, and when the deep and widening chasm between the religious\nopinions of most highly educated men, and of the immense majority of\nwomen, is painfully apparent. While a multitude of scientific discoveries,\ncritical and historical researches, and educational reforms have brought\nthinking men face to face with religious problems of extreme importance,\nwomen have been almost absolutely excluded from their influence. Their\nminds are usually by nature less capable than those of men of impartiality\nand suspense, and the almost complete omission from female education of\nthose studies which most discipline and strengthen the intellect increases\nthe difference, while at the same time it has been usually made a main\nobject to imbue them with a passionate faith in traditional opinions, and\nto preserve them from all contact with opposing views. But contracted\nknowledge and imperfect sympathy are not the sole fruits of this\neducation. It has always been the peculiarity of a certain kind of\ntheological teaching that it inverts all the normal principles of\njudgment, and absolutely destroys intellectual diffidence. On other\nsubjects we find, if not a respect for honest conviction, at least some\nsense of the amount of knowledge that is requisite to entitle men to\nexpress an opinion on grave controversies. A complete ignorance of the\nsubject-matter of a dispute restrains the confidence of dogmatism; and an\nignorant person, who is aware that, by much reading and thinking in\nspheres of which he has himself no knowledge, his educated neighbour has\nmodified or rejected opinions which that ignorant person had been taught,\nwill, at least if he is a man of sense or modesty, abstain from\ncompassionating the benighted condition of his more instructed friend. But\non theological questions this has never been so. Unfaltering belief being\ntaught as the first of duties, and all doubt being usually stigmatised as\ncriminal or damnable, a state of mind is formed to which we find no\nparallel in other fields. Many men and most women, though completely\nignorant of the very rudiments of biblical criticism, historical research,\nor scientific discoveries, though they have never read a single page, or\nunderstood a single proposition of the writings of those whom they\ncondemn, and have absolutely no rational knowledge either of the arguments\nby which their faith is defended, or of those by which it has been\nimpugned, will nevertheless adjudicate with the utmost confidence upon\nevery polemical question; denounce, hate, pity, or pray for the conversion\nof all who dissent from what they have been taught; assume, as a matter\nbeyond the faintest possibility of doubt, that the opinions they have\nreceived without enquiry must be true, and that the opinions which others\nhave arrived at by enquiry must be false, and make it a main object of\ntheir lives to assail what they call heresy in every way in their power,\nexcept by examining the grounds on which it rests. It is probable that the\ngreat majority of voices that swell the clamour against every book which\nis regarded as heretical are the voices of those who would deem it\ncriminal even to open that book, or to enter into any real, searching, and\nimpartial investigation of the subject to which it relates. Innumerable\npulpits support this tone of thought, and represent, with a fervid\nrhetoric well fitted to excite the nerves and imaginations of women, the\ndeplorable condition of all who deviate from a certain type of opinions or\nof emotions; a blind propagandism or a secret wretchedness penetrates into\ncountless households, poisoning the peace of families, chilling the mutual\nconfidence of husband and wife, adding immeasurably to the difficulties\nwhich every searcher into truth has to encounter, and diffusing far and\nwide intellectual timidity, disingenuousness, and hypocrisy.\n\nThese domestic divisions became very apparent in the period of the\nconversion of the Roman Empire; and a natural desire to guard intact the\northodoxy and zeal of the converts, and to prevent a continual\ndiscordance, stimulated the Fathers in their very vehement denunciations\nof all mixed marriages. We may also trace in these denunciations the\noutline of a very singular doctrine, which was afterwards suffered to fall\ninto obscurity, but was revived in the last century in England in a\ncurious and learned work of the nonjuror Dodwell.(767) The union of Christ\nand His Church had been represented as a marriage; and this image was not\nregarded as a mere metaphor or comparison, but as intimating a mysterious\nunity, which, though not susceptible of any very clear definition, was not\non that account the less real. Christians were the \u201climbs of Christ,\u201d and\nfor them to join themselves in marriage with those who were not of the\nChristian fold was literally, it was said, a species of adultery or\nfornication. The intermarriage of the Israelites, the chosen seed of the\nancient world, with the Gentiles, had been described in the Old Testament\nas an act of impurity;(768) and in the opinion of some, at least, of the\nFathers, the Christian community occupied towards the unbelievers a\nposition analogous to that which the Jews had occupied towards the\nGentiles. St. Cyprian denounced the crime of those \u201cwho prostitute the\nlimbs of Christ in marriage with the Gentiles.\u201d(769) Tertullian described\nthe intermarriage as fornication;(770) and after the triumph of the\nChurch, the intermarriage of Jews and Christians was made a capital\noffence, and was stigmatised by the law as adultery.(771) The civil law\ndid not prohibit the orthodox from intermarrying with heretics, but many\ncouncils in strong terms denounced such marriages as criminal.\n\nThe extreme sanctity attributed to virginity, the absolute condemnation of\nall forms of sexual connection other than marriage, and the formation and\ngradual realisation of the Christian conception of marriage as a permanent\nunion of a man and woman of the same religious opinions, consecrated by\nsolemn religious services, carrying with it a deep religious\nsignification, and dissoluble only by death, were the most obvious signs\nof Christian influence in the sphere of ethics we are examining. Another\nvery important result of the new religion was to raise to a far greater\nhonour than they had previously possessed, the qualities in which women\npeculiarly excel.\n\nThere are few more curious subjects of enquiry than the distinctive\ndifferences between the sexes, and the manner in which those differences\nhave affected the ideal types of different ages, nations, philosophies,\nand religions. Physically, men have the indisputable superiority in\nstrength, and women in beauty. Intellectually, a certain inferiority of\nthe female sex can hardly be denied when we remember how almost\nexclusively the foremost places in every department of science,\nliterature, and art have been occupied by men, how infinitesimally small\nis the number of women who have shown in any form the very highest order\nof genius, how many of the greatest men have achieved their greatness in\ndefiance of the most adverse circumstances, and how completely women have\nfailed in obtaining the first position, even in music or painting, for the\ncultivation of which their circumstances would appear most propitious. It\nis as impossible to find a female Raphael, or a female Handel, as a female\nShakspeare or Newton. Women are intellectually more desultory and volatile\nthan men; they are more occupied with particular instances than with\ngeneral principles; they judge rather by intuitive perceptions than by\ndeliberate reasoning or past experience. They are, however, usually\nsuperior to men in nimbleness and rapidity of thought, and in the gift of\ntact or the power of seizing speedily and faithfully the finer inflexions\nof feeling, and they have therefore often attained very great eminence in\nconversation, as letter-writers, as actresses, and as novelists.\n\nMorally, the general superiority of women over men, is, I think,\nunquestionable. If we take the somewhat coarse and inadequate criterion of\npolice statistics, we find that, while the male and female populations are\nnearly the same in number, the crimes committed by men are usually rather\nmore than five times as numerous as those committed by women;(772) and\nalthough it may be justly observed that men, as the stronger sex, and the\nsex upon whom the burden of supporting the family is thrown, have more\ntemptations than women, it must be remembered, on the other hand, that\nextreme poverty which verges upon starvation is most common among women,\nwhose means of livelihood are most restricted, and whose earnings are\nsmallest and most precarious. Self-sacrifice is the most conspicuous\nelement of a virtuous and religious character, and it is certainly far\nless common among men than among women, whose whole lives are usually\nspent in yielding to the will and consulting the pleasures of another.\nThere are two great departments of virtue: the impulsive, or that which\nsprings spontaneously from the emotions; and the deliberative, or that\nwhich is performed in obedience to the sense of duty; and in both of these\nI imagine women are superior to men. Their sensibility is greater, they\nare more chaste both in thought and act, more tender to the erring, more\ncompassionate to the suffering, more affectionate to all about them. On\nthe other hand, those who have traced the course of the wives of the poor,\nand of many who, though in narrow circumstances, can hardly be called\npoor, will probably admit that in no other class do we so often find\nentire lives spent in daily persistent self-denial, in the patient\nendurance of countless trials, in the ceaseless and deliberate sacrifice\nof their own enjoyments to the well-being or the prospects of others.\nWomen, however, though less prone than men to intemperance and brutality,\nare in general more addicted to the petty forms of vanity, jealousy,\nspitefulness, and ambition, and they are also inferior to men in active\ncourage. In the courage of endurance they are commonly superior; but their\npassive courage is not so much fortitude which bears and defies, as\nresignation which bears and bends. In the ethics of intellect they are\ndecidedly inferior. To repeat an expression I have already employed, women\nvery rarely love truth, though they love passionately what they call \u201cthe\ntruth,\u201d or opinions they have received from others, and hate vehemently\nthose who differ from them. They are little capable of impartiality or of\ndoubt; their thinking is chiefly a mode of feeling; though very generous\nin their acts, they are rarely generous in their opinions or in their\njudgments. They persuade rather than convince, and value belief rather as\na source of consolation than as a faithful expression of the reality of\nthings. They are less capable than men of perceiving qualifying\ncircumstances, of admitting the existence of elements of good in systems\nto which they are opposed, of distinguishing the personal character of an\nopponent from the opinions he maintains. Men lean most to justice and\nwomen to mercy. Men excel in energy, self-reliance, perseverance, and\nmagnanimity; women in humility, gentleness, modesty, and endurance. The\nrealising imagination which causes us to pity and to love is more\nsensitive in women than in men, and it is especially more capable of\ndwelling on the unseen. Their religious or devotional realisations are\nincontestably more vivid; and it is probable that, while a father is most\nmoved by the death of a child in his presence, a mother generally feels\nmost the death of a child in some distant land. But, though more intense,\nthe sympathies of women are commonly less wide than those of men. Their\nimaginations individualise more; their affections are, in consequence,\nconcentrated rather on leaders than on causes; and if they care for a\ngreat cause, it is generally because it is represented by a great man, or\nconnected with some one whom they love. In politics, their enthusiasm is\nmore naturally loyalty than patriotism. In history, they are even more\ninclined than men to dwell exclusively upon biographical incidents or\ncharacteristics as distinguished from the march of general causes. In\nbenevolence, they excel in charity, which alleviates individual suffering,\nrather than in philanthropy, which deals with large masses and is more\nfrequently employed in preventing than in allaying calamity.\n\nIt was a remark of Winckelmann that \u201cthe supreme beauty of Greek art is\nrather male than female;\u201d and the justice of this remark has been amply\ncorroborated by the greater knowledge we have of late years attained of\nthe works of the Phidian period, in which art achieved its highest\nperfection, and in which, at the same time, force and freedom, and\nmasculine grandeur, were its pre-eminent characteristics. A similar\nobservation may be made of the moral ideal of which ancient art was simply\nthe expression. In antiquity the virtues that were most admired were\nalmost exclusively those which are distinctively masculine. Courage,\nself-assertion, magnanimity, and, above all, patriotism, were the leading\nfeatures of the ideal type; and chastity, modesty, and charity, the\ngentler and the domestic virtues, which are especially feminine, were\ngreatly undervalued. With the single exception of conjugal fidelity, none\nof the virtues that were very highly prized were virtues distinctively or\npre-eminently feminine. With this exception, nearly all the most\nillustrious women of antiquity were illustrious chiefly because they\novercame the natural conditions of their sex. It is a characteristic fact\nthat the favourite female ideal of the artists appears to have been the\nAmazon.(773) We may admire the Spartan mother, and the mother of the\nGracchi, repressing every sign of grief when their children were\nsacrificed upon the altar of their country, we may wonder at the majestic\ncourage of a Porcia and an Arria; but we extol them chiefly because, being\nwomen, they emancipated themselves from the frailty of their sex, and\ndisplayed an heroic fortitude worthy of the strongest and the bravest of\nmen. We may bestow an equal admiration upon the noble devotion and charity\nof a St. Elizabeth of Hungary, or of a Mrs. Fry, but we do not admire them\nbecause they displayed these virtues, although they were women, for we\nfeel that their virtues were of the kind which the female nature is most\nfitted to produce. The change from the heroic to the saintly ideal, from\nthe ideal of Paganism to the ideal of Christianity, was a change from a\ntype which was essentially male to one which was essentially feminine. Of\nall the great schools of philosophy no other reflected so faithfully the\nRoman conception of moral excellence as Stoicism, and the greatest Roman\nexponent of Stoicism summed up its character in a single sentence when he\npronounced it to be beyond all other sects the most emphatically\nmasculine.(774) On the other hand, an ideal type in which meekness,\ngentleness, patience, humility, faith, and love are the most prominent\nfeatures, is not naturally male but female. A reason probably deeper than\nthe historical ones which are commonly alleged, why sculpture has always\nbeen peculiarly Pagan and painting peculiarly Christian, may be found in\nthe fact, that sculpture is especially suited to represent male beauty, or\nthe beauty of strength, and painting female beauty, or the beauty of\nsoftness; and that Pagan sentiment was chiefly a glorification of the\nmasculine qualities of strength, and courage, and conscious virtue, while\nChristian sentiment is chiefly a glorification of the feminine qualities\nof gentleness, humility, and love. The painters whom the religious feeling\nof Christendom has recognised as the most faithful exponents of Christian\nsentiment have always been those who infused a large measure of feminine\nbeauty even into their male characters; and we never, or scarcely ever,\nfind that the same artist has been conspicuously successful in delineating\nboth Christian and Pagan types. Michael Angelo, whose genius loved to\nexpatiate on the sublimity of strength and defiance, failed signally in\nhis representations of the Christian ideal; and Perugino was equally\nunsuccessful when he sought to pourtray the features of the heroes of\nantiquity.(775) The position that was gradually assigned to the Virgin as\nthe female ideal in the belief and the devotion of Christendom, was a\nconsecration or an expression of the new value that was attached to the\nfeminine virtues.\n\nThe general superiority of women to men in the strength of their religious\nemotions, and their natural attraction to a religion which made personal\nattachment to its Founder its central duty, and which imparted an\nunprecedented dignity and afforded an unprecedented scope to their\ncharacteristic virtues, account for the very conspicuous position that\nfemale influence assumed in the great work of the conversion of the Roman\nEmpire. In no other important movement of thought was it so powerful or so\nacknowledged. In the ages of persecution female figures occupy many of the\nforemost places in the ranks of martyrdom, and Pagan and Christian writers\nalike attest the alacrity with which women flocked to the Church, and the\ninfluence they exercised in its favour over the male members of their\nfamilies. The mothers of St. Augustine, St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, St.\nGregory Nazianzen, and Theodoret, had all a leading part in the conversion\nof their sons. St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, Flacilla, the wife\nof Theodosius the Great, St. Pulcheria, the sister of Theodosius the\nYounger, and Placidia, the mother of Valentinian III., were among the most\nconspicuous defenders of the faith. In the heretical sects the same zeal\nwas manifested, and Arius, Priscillian, and Montanus were all supported by\ntroops of zealous female devotees. In the career of asceticism women took\na part little if at all inferior to men, while in the organisation of the\ngreat work of charity they were pre-eminent. For no other field of active\nlabour are women so admirably suited as for this; and although we may\ntrace from the earliest period, in many creeds and ages, individual\ninstances of their influence in allaying the sufferings of the\ndistressed,(776) it may be truly said that their instinct and genius of\ncharity had never before the dawn of Christianity obtained full scope for\naction. Fabiola, Paula, Melania, and a host of other noble ladies devoted\ntheir time and fortunes mainly to founding and extending vast institutions\nof charity, some of them of a kind before unknown in the world. The\nEmpress Flacilla was accustomed to tend with her own hands the sick in the\nhospitals,(777) and a readiness to discharge such offices was deemed the\nfirst duty of a Christian wife.(778) From age to age the impulse thus\ncommunicated has been felt. There has been no period, however corrupt,\nthere has been no Church, however superstitious, that has not been adorned\nby many Christian women devoting their entire lives to assuaging the\nsufferings of men; and the mission of charity thus instituted has not been\nmore efficacious in diminishing the sum of human wretchedness, than in\npromoting the moral dignity of those by whom it was conducted.\n\nAmong the Collyridian heretics, women were admitted to the priesthood.\nAmong the orthodox, although this honour was not bestowed upon them, they\nreceived a religious consecration, and discharged some minor\necclesiastical functions under the name of deaconesses.(779) This order\nmay be traced to the Apostolic period.(780) It consisted of elderly\nvirgins, who were set apart by a formal ordination, and were employed in\nassisting as catechists and attendants at the baptism of women, in\nvisiting the sick, ministering to martyrs in prison, preserving order in\nthe congregations, and accompanying and presenting women who desired an\ninterview with the bishop. It would appear, from the evidence of some\ncouncils, that abuses gradually crept into this institution, and the\ndeaconesses at last faded into simple nuns, but they were still in\nexistence in the East in the twelfth century. Besides these, widows, when\nthey had been but once married, were treated with peculiar honour, and\nwere made the special recipients of the charity of the Church. Women\nadvanced in years, who, either from their single life or from bereavement,\nhave been left without any male protector in the world, have always been\npeculiarly deserving of commiseration. With less strength, and commonly\nwith less means, and less knowledge of the world than men, they are liable\nto contract certain peculiarities of mind and manner to which an excessive\namount of ridicule has been attached, and age in most cases furnishes them\nwith very little to compensate for the charms of which it has deprived\nthem. The weight and dignity of matured wisdom, which make the old age of\none sex so venerable, are more rarely found in that of the other, and even\nphysical beauty is more frequently the characteristic of an old man than\nof an old woman. The Church laboured steadily to cast a halo of reverence\naround this period of woman\u2019s life, and its religious exercises have done\nvery much to console and to occupy it.\n\nIn accordance with these ideas, the Christian legislators contributed\nlargely to improve the legal position of widows in respect to\nproperty,(781) and Justinian gave mothers the guardianship of their\nchildren, destroying the Pagan rule that guardianship could only be\nlegally exercised by men.(782) The usual subservience of the sex to\necclesiastical influence, the numerous instances of rich widows devoting\ntheir fortunes, and mothers their sons, to the Church, had no doubt some\ninfluence in securing the advocacy of the clergy; but these measures had a\nmanifest importance in elevating the position of women who have had, in\nChristian lands, a great, though not, I think, altogether a beneficial\ninfluence, in the early education of their sons.\n\nIndependently of all legal enactments, the simple change of the ideal type\nby bringing specially feminine virtues into the forefront was sufficient\nto elevate and ennoble the sex. The commanding position of the medi\u00e6val\nabbesses, the great number of female saints, and especially the reverence\nbestowed upon the Virgin, had a similar effect. It is remarkable that the\nJews, who, of the three great nations of antiquity, certainly produced in\nhistory and poetry the smallest number of illustrious women, should have\nfurnished the world with its supreme female ideal, and it is also a\nstriking illustration of the qualities which prove most attractive in\nwoman that one of whom we know nothing except her gentleness and her\nsorrow should have exercised a magnetic power upon the world incomparably\ngreater than was exercised by the most majestic female patriots of\nPaganism. Whatever may be thought of its theological propriety, there can\nbe little doubt that the Catholic reverence for the Virgin has done much\nto elevate and purify the ideal of woman, and to soften the manners of\nmen. It has had an influence which the worship of the Pagan goddesses\ncould never possess, for these had been almost destitute of moral beauty,\nand especially of that kind of moral beauty which is peculiarly feminine.\nIt supplied in a great measure the redeeming and ennobling element in that\nstrange amalgam of religious, licentious, and military feeling which was\nformed around women in the age of chivalry, and which no succeeding change\nof habit or belief has wholly destroyed.\n\nIt can hardly, I think, be questioned that in the great religious\nconvulsions of the sixteenth century the feminine type followed\nCatholicism, while Protestantism inclined more to the masculine type.\nCatholicism alone retained the Virgin worship, which at once reflected and\nsustained the first. The skill with which it acts upon the emotions by\nmusic, and painting, and solemn architecture, and imposing pageantry, its\ntendency to appeal to the imagination rather than to the reason, and to\nfoster modes of feeling rather than modes of thought, its assertion of\nabsolute and infallible certainty, above all, the manner in which it\nteaches its votary to throw himself perpetually on authority, all tended\nin the same direction. It is the part of a woman to lean, it is the part\nof a man to stand. A religion which prescribes to the distracted mind\nunreasoning faith in an infallible Church, and to the troubled conscience\nan implicit trust in an absolving priesthood, has ever had an especial\nattraction to a feminine mind. A religion which recognises no authority\nbetween man and his Creator, which asserts at once the dignity and the\nduty of private judgment, and which, while deepening immeasurably the\nsense of individual responsibility, denudes religion of meretricious\nornaments, and of most \u00e6sthetic aids, is pre-eminently a religion of men.\nPuritanism is the most masculine form that Christianity has yet assumed.\nIts most illustrious teachers differed from the Catholic saints as much in\nthe moral type they displayed as in the system of doctrines they held.\nCatholicism commonly softens, while Protestantism strengthens, the\ncharacter; but the softness of the first often degenerates into weakness,\nand the strength of the second into hardness. Sincerely Catholic nations\nare distinguished for their reverence, for their habitual and vivid\nperceptions of religious things, for the warmth of their emotions, for a\ncertain amiability of disposition, and a certain natural courtesy and\nrefinement of manner that are inexpressibly winning. Sincerely Protestant\nnations are distinguished for their love of truth, for their firm sense of\nduty, for the strength and the dignity of their character. Loyalty and\nhumility, which are especially feminine, flourish chiefly in the first;\nliberty and self-assertion in the second. The first are most prone to\nsuperstition, and the second to fanaticism. Protestantism, by purifying\nand dignifying marriage, conferred a great benefit upon women; but it must\nbe owned that neither in its ideal type, nor in the general tenor of its\ndoctrines or devotions, is it as congenial to their nature as the religion\nit superseded.\n\nIts complete suppression of the conventual system was also, I think, very\nfar from a benefit to women or to the world. It would be impossible to\nconceive any institution more needed than one which would furnish a\nshelter for the many women who, from poverty, or domestic unhappiness, or\nother causes, find themselves cast alone and unprotected into the battle\nof life, which would secure them from the temptations to gross vice, and\nfrom the extremities of suffering, and would convert them into agents of\nactive, organised, and intelligent charity. Such an institution would be\nalmost free from the objections that may justly be urged against\nmonasteries, which withdraw strong men from manual labour, and it would\nlargely mitigate the difficulty of providing labour and means of\nlivelihood for single women, which is one of the most pressing, in our own\nday one of the most appalling, of social problems. Most unhappily for\nmankind, this noble conception was from the first perverted. Institutions\nthat might have had an incalculable philanthropic value were based upon\nthe principle of asceticism, which makes the sacrifice, not the promotion,\nof earthly happiness its aim, and binding vows produced much misery and\nnot a little vice. The convent became the perpetual prison of the daughter\nwhom a father was disinclined to endow, or of young girls who, under the\nimpulse of a transient enthusiasm, or of a transient sorrow, took a step\nwhich they never could retrace, and useless penances and contemptible\nsuperstitions wasted the energies that might have been most beneficially\nemployed. Still it is very doubtful whether, even in the most degraded\nperiod, the convents did not prevent more misery than they inflicted, and\nin the Sisters of Charity the religious orders of Catholicism have\nproduced one of the most perfect of all the types of womanhood. There is,\nas I conceive, no fact in modern history more deeply to be deplored than\nthat the Reformers, who in matters of doctrinal innovations were often so\ntimid, should have levelled to the dust, instead of attempting to\nregenerate, the whole conventual system of Catholicism.\n\nThe course of these observations has led me to transgress the limits\nassigned to this history. It has been, however, my object through this\nentire work to exhibit not only the nature but also the significance of\nthe moral facts I have recorded, by showing how they have affected the\nsubsequent changes of society. I will conclude this chapter, and this\nwork, by observing that of all the departments of ethics the questions\nconcerning the relations of the sexes and the proper position of women are\nthose upon the future of which there rests the greatest uncertainty.\nHistory tells us that, as civilisation advances, the charity of men\nbecomes at once warmer and more expansive, their habitual conduct both\nmore gentle and more temperate, and their love of truth more sincere; but\nit also warns us that in periods of great intellectual enlightenment, and\nof great social refinement, the relations of the sexes have often been\nmost anarchical. It is impossible to deny that the form which these\nrelations at present assume has been very largely affected by special\nreligious teaching, which, for good or for ill, is rapidly waning in the\nsphere of government, and also, that certain recent revolutions in\neconomical opinion and industrial enterprise have a most profound bearing\nupon the subject. The belief that a rapid increase of population is always\neminently beneficial, which was long accepted as an axiom by both\nstatesmen and moralists, and was made the basis of a large part of the\nlegislation of the first and of the decisions of the second, has now been\nreplaced by the directly opposite doctrine, that the very highest interest\nof society is not to stimulate but to restrain multiplication, diminishing\nthe number of marriages and of children. In consequence of this belief,\nand of the many factitious wants that accompany a luxurious civilisation,\na very large and increasing proportion of women are left to make their way\nin life without any male protector, and the difficulties they have to\nencounter through physical weakness have been most unnaturally and most\nfearfully aggravated by laws and customs which, resting on the old\nassumption that every woman should be a wife, habitually deprive them of\nthe pecuniary and educational advantages of men, exclude them absolutely\nfrom very many of the employments in which they might earn a subsistence,\nencumber their course in others by a heartless ridicule or by a steady\ndisapprobation, and consign, in consequence, many thousands to the most\nextreme and agonising poverty, and perhaps a still larger number to the\npaths of vice. At the same time a momentous revolution, the effects of\nwhich can as yet be but imperfectly descried, has taken place in the chief\nspheres of female industry that remain. The progress of machinery has\ndestroyed its domestic character. The distaff has fallen from the hand.\nThe needle is being rapidly superseded, and the work which, from the days\nof Homer to the present century, was accomplished in the centre of the\nfamily, has been transferred to the crowded manufactory.(783)\n\nThe probable consequences of these things are among the most important\nquestions that can occupy the moralist or the philanthropist, but they do\nnot fall within the province of the historian. That the pursuits and\neducation of women will be considerably altered, that these alterations\nwill bring with them some modifications of the type of character, and that\nthe prevailing moral notions concerning the relations of the sexes will be\nsubjected in many quarters to a severe and hostile criticism, may safely\nbe predicted. Many wild theories will doubtless be propounded. Some real\nethical changes may perhaps be effected, but these, if I mistake not, can\nonly be within definite and narrow limits. He who will seriously reflect\nupon our clear perceptions of the difference between purity and impurity,\nupon the laws that govern our affections, and upon the interests of the\nchildren who are born, may easily convince himself that in this, as in all\nother spheres, there are certain eternal moral landmarks which never can\nbe removed.\n\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\nAbortion, diversities of moral judgment respecting, i. 92.\n  History of the practice of, ii. 20, 24\n\nAbraham the Hermit, St., ii. 110\n\nAcacius, his ransom of Persian slaves, ii. 72\n\nAdultery, laws concerning, ii. 313\n\n\u00c6schylus, his views of human nature, i. 196.\n  His violation of dramatic probabilities, 229\n\nAffections, the, all forms of self-love, according to some Utilitarians,\n            i. 9.\n  Subjugation of the, to the reason, taught by the Stoics, &c., 177, 187.\n  Considered by the Stoics as a disease, 188.\n  Evil consequences of their suppression, 191\n\nAfrica, sacrifices of children to Saturn in, ii. 31.\n  Effect of the conquest of Genseric of, 82\n\nAgap\u00e6, or love feasts, of the Christians, how regarded by the pagans, i.\n            415; ii. 79.\n  Excesses of the, and their suppression, 150\n\nAgnes, St., legend of, ii. 319\n\nAgricultural pursuits, history of the decline of, in Italy, i. 266.\n  Efforts to relieve the agriculturists, 267\n\nAlbigenses, their slow suicides, ii. 49\n\nAlexander the Great: effect of his career on Greek cosmopolitanism, i. 229\n\nAlexandria, foundation of, i. 230.\n  Effect of the increasing importance of, on Roman thought, 319.\n  The Decian persecution at, 451.\n  Excesses of the Christian sects of, ii. 196, 197, _note_\n\nAlexis, St., his legend, ii. 322\n\nAlimentus, Cincius, his work written in Greek, i. 230\n\nAlmsgiving, effects of indiscriminate, ii. 90, 91\n\nAmafanius, wrote the first Latin work on philosophy, i. 175, _note_.\n\nAmbrose, St., his miraculous dream, i. 379.\n  His dissection of the pagan theory of the decline of the Roman empire,\n              409.\n  His ransom of Italians from the Goths, ii. 72.\n  His commendation of disobedience to parents, 132\n\nAmerican Indians, suicide of the, ii. 54\n\nAmmon, St., his refusal to wash himself, ii. 110.\n  Deserts his wife, 322\n\nAmour, William de St., his denunciation of the mendicant orders, ii. 96\n\nAmphitheatres, history and remains of Roman, i. 273\n\nAnaxagoras, on the death of his son, i. 191.\n  On his true country, 201\n\nAnchorites. _See_ Ascetics; Monasticism\n\nAngelo, Michael, in what he failed, ii. 363\n\nAnglo-Saxon nations, their virtues and vices, i. 153\n\nAnimals, lower, Egyptian worship of, i. 166, _note_.\n  Humanity to animals probably first advocated by Plutarch, 244.\n  Animals employed in the arena at Rome, 280.\n  Instances of kindness to, 288, 307.\n  Legends of the connection of the saints and the animal world, ii. 161.\n  Pagan legends of the intelligence of animals, 161, 162.\n  Legislative protection of them, 162.\n  Views as to the souls of animals, 162.\n  Moral duty of kindness to animals taught by pagans, 166.\n  Legends in the lives of the saints in connection with animals, 168.\n  Progress in modern times of humanity to animals, 172\n\nAntigonus of Socho, his doctrine of virtue, i. 183, _note_\n\nAntioch, charities of, ii. 80.\n  Its extreme vice and asceticism, 153\n\nAntisthenes, his scepticism, i. 162\n\nAntoninus, the philosopher, his prediction, i. 427\n\nAntoninus the Pious, his death, i. 207.\n  His leniency towards the Christians, 438, 439.\n  Forged letter of, 439, _note_.\n  His charity, ii. 77\n\nAntony, St., his flight into the desert, ii. 103.\n  His mode of life, 110.\n  His dislike to knowledge, 115.\n  Legend of his visit to Paul the hermit, 157, 158\n\nAphrodite, the celestial and earthly, i. 106\n\nApollonius of Tyana, his conversation with an Egyptian priest respecting\n            the Greek and Egyptian modes of worshipping the deity, i. 166,\n            _note_.\n  Miracles attributed to him, 372.\n  His humanity to animals, ii. 165\n\nApollonius, the merchant, his dispensary for monks, ii. 81\n\nApuleius, his condemnation of suicide, i. 213.\n  His disquisition on the doctrine of d\u00e6mons, 323.\n  Practical form of his philosophy, 329.\n  Miracles attributed to him, 372.\n  His defence of tooth-powder, ii. 148\n\nArchytas of Tarentum, his speech on the evils of sensuality, i. 200,\n            _note_\n\nArgos, story of the sons of the priestess of Juno at, i. 206\n\nArians, their charges against the Catholics, i. 418, _note_\n\nAristides, his gentleness, i. 228\n\nAristotle, his admission of the practice of abortion, i. 92.\n  Emphasis with which he dwelt upon the utility of virtue, 124.\n  His patriotism, 200.\n  His condemnation of suicide, 212.\n  His opinions as to the duties of Greeks to barbarians, 229\n\nArius, death of, ii. 196\n\nArnobius, on the miracles of Christ, i. 375\n\nArrian, his humanity to animals, ii. 164\n\nArsenius, St., his penances, ii. 107, 114, _note_.\n  His anxiety to avoid distractions, 125, _note_\n\nAscetics, their estimate of the dreadful nature of sin, i. 113.\n  Decline of asceticism and evanescence of the moral notions of which it\n              was the expression, 113.\n  Condition of society to which it belongs, 130.\n  Decline of the ascetic and saintly qualities with civilisation, 130.\n  Causes of the ascetic movement, ii. 102.\n  Its rapid extension, 103-105.\n  Penances attributed to the saints of the desert, 107-109.\n  Miseries and joys of the hermit life, 113 _et seq._\n  Dislike of the monks to knowledge, 115.\n  Their hallucinations, 116.\n  Relations of female devotees with the anchorites, 120.\n  Ways in which the ascetic life affected both the ideal type and realised\n              condition of morals, 122, _et seq._\n  Extreme animosity of the ascetics to everything pagan, 136, 137.\n  Decline of the civic virtues caused by asceticism, 139.\n  Moral effects of asceticism on self-sacrifice, 154, 155.\n  Moral beauty of some of the legends of the ascetics, 156.\n  Legends of the connection between the saints and the animal world, 161.\n  Practical form of asceticism in the West, 177.\n  Influence of asceticism on chastity, 319, 320.\n  On marriage, 320.\n  On the estimate of women, 337\n\nAsella, story of her asceticism, ii. 133\n\nAsia Minor, destruction of the churches of, ii. 14\n\nAspasia, the Athenian courtesan, ii. 293\n\nAsses, feast of, ii. 173\n\nAssociation, Hartley\u2019s doctrine of, i. 22.\n  Partly anticipated by Hutcheson and Gay, 23.\n  Illustrations of the system of association, 26-30.\n  The theory, how far selfish, 30.\n  The essential and characteristic feature of conscience wholly\n              unaccounted for by the association of ideas, 66\n\nAstrology, belief in, rapidly gaining ground in the time of the elder\n            Pliny, i. 171, and _note_\n\nAtticus, his suicide, i. 215, and _note_\n\nAugustine, St., on original sin, i. 209.\n  His belief in contemporary miracles, 378.\n  On the decline of the Roman empire, 410.\n  His condemnation of virgin suicides, ii. 47\n\nAugustus, his solemn degradation of the statue of Neptune, i. 169.\n  His mode of discouraging celibacy, 232.\n  Miraculous stories related of him, 258.\n  His superstition, 376.\n  Advice of M\u00e6cenas to him, 399.\n  His consideration for the religious customs of the Jews, 406\n\nAulus Gellius, his account of the rhetoricians, i. 313.\n  Compared with Helv\u00e9tius, 313\n\nAurelius, Marcus, on a future state, i. 184.\n  On posthumous fame, 186.\n  Denied that all vices are the same, 192, _note_.\n  On the sacred spirit dwelling in man, 198.\n  His submissive gratitude, 199.\n  His practical application of the precepts of the Stoics, 202.\n  His wavering views as to suicide, 213.\n  His charity to the human race, 241.\n  Mild and more religious spirit of his stoicism, 245.\n  His constant practice of self-examination, 249.\n  His life and character, 249-255.\n  Compared and contrasted with Plutarch, 253.\n  His discouragement of the games of the arena, 286.\n  His humanity, 308.\n  His disbelief of exorcism, 384.\n  His law against religious terrorism, 422.\n  His persecution of the Christians, 439, 440.\n  His benevolence, ii. 77.\n  His view of war, 258\n\nAustin, Mr., his view of the foundation of the moral law, i. 17, _note_.\n  His advocacy of the unselfish view of the love we ought to bear to God,\n              18, _note_.\n  Character of his \u201cLectures on Jurisprudence,\u201d 22, _note_\n\nAvarice, association of ideas to the passion of, i. 25\n\nAvitus, St., legend of, ii. 159\n\nBabylas, St., miracles performed by his bones, i. 382, and _note_.\n  His death, ii. 9\n\nBacchus, suppression of the rites of, at Rome, i. 401\n\nBacon, Lord, great movement of modern thought caused by, i. 125.\n  His objection to the Stoics\u2019 view of death, 202\n\nBacon, Roger, his life and works, ii. 210\n\nBain, Mr., on pleasure, i. 12, _note_.\n  His definition of conscience, 29, _note_.\n\nBalbus, Cornelius, his elevation to the consulate, i. 232\n\nBaltus on the exorcists, i. 381, _note_.\n\nBaptism, Augustinian doctrine of, i. 96\n\nBarbarians, causes of the conversion of the, i. 410\n\nBasil, St., his hospital, ii. 80.\n  His labours for monachism, 106\n\nBassus, Ventidius, his elevation to the consulate, i. 232\n\nBathilda, Queen, her charity, ii. 245\n\nBear-gardens in England, ii. 175, _note_.\n\nBeauty, analogies between virtue and, i. 77.\n  Their difference, 79.\n  Diversities existing in our judgments of virtue and beauty, 79.\n  Causes of these diversities, 79.\n  Virtues to which we can, and to which we cannot, apply the term\n              beautiful, 82, 83.\n  Pleasure derived from beauty compared with that from the grotesque, or\n              eccentric, 85.\n  The prevailing cast of female beauty in the north, contrasted with the\n              southern type, 144, 145, 152.\n  Admiration of the Greeks for beauty, ii. 292\n\nBees, regarded by the ancients as emblems or models of chastity, i. 108,\n            _note_.\n\nBeggars, causes of vast numbers of, ii. 94.\n  Old English laws for the suppression of mendicancy, 96.\n  Enactments against them in various parts of Europe, 98\n\nBenedict, St., his system, 183\n\nBenefices, military use of, ii. 270\n\nBenevolence; Hutcheson\u2019s theory that all virtue is resolved into\n            benevolence, i. 4.\n  Discussions in England, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, as\n              to the existence of, 20.\n  Various views of the source from which it springs, 22.\n  Association of ideas producing the feeling of, 26.\n  Hartley on benevolence quoted, 27, _note_.\n  Impossibility of benevolence becoming a pleasure if practised only with\n              a view to that end, 37.\n  Application to benevolence of the theory, that the moral unity of\n              different ages is a unity not of standard but of tendency,\n              100.\n  Influenced by our imaginations, 132, 133.\n  Imperfectly recognised by the Stoics, 188, 192\n\nBentham, Jeremy, on the motives of human actions, i. 8, _note_.\n  On the pleasures and pains of piety quoted, 9, _note_.\n  On charity, 10, _note_.\n  On vice, 13, _note_.\n  On the sanctions of morality, 19, and _note_, 21.\n  Throws benevolence as much as possible into the background, 21.\n  Makes no use of the doctrine of association, 25, _note_.\n  His definition of conscience, 29, _note_.\n  On interest and disinterestedness, 32, _note_.\n  On the value and purity of a pleasure, 90, _note_.\n\nBesarion, St., his penances, ii. 108\n\nBiography, relative importance of, among Christians and Pagans, i. 174\n\nBlandina, martyrdom of, i. 442\n\nBlesilla, story of her slow suicide, ii. 48\n\nBlondel, his denunciation of the forgeries of the Sibylline books, i. 377\n\nBoadicea, her suicide, ii. 53, _note_\n\nBolingbroke\u2019s \u201cReflections on Exile,\u201d i. 201, _note_\n\nBona Dea, story and worship of, i. 94, _note_.\n  Popularity of her worship among the Romans, 106, 386\n\nBoniface, St., his missionary labours, ii. 247\n\nBonnet, his philosophy, i. 71\n\nBossuet, on the nature of the love we should bear to God, i. 18, _note_\n\nBrephotrophia, in the early church, ii. 32\n\nBrotherhood, effect of Christianity in promoting, ii. 61\n\nBrown, on the motive for the practice of virtue, i. 8, _note_.\n  On theological Utilitarianism, 16, _note_\n\nBrunehaut, Queen, her crimes, approved of by the Pope, ii. 236, 237.\n  Her end, 237\n\nBrutus, his extortionate usury, i. 193, 194\n\nBuckle, Thomas, his remarks on morals, i. 74, _note_.\n  On the difference between mental and physical pleasures, 90, _note_.\n  His views of the comparative influence of intellectual and moral\n              agencies in civilisation, 103, _note_\n\nBull-baiting in England, ii. 175, _note_\n\nBulgarians, their conversion to Christianity, ii. 180\n\nButler, Bishop, maintains the reality of the existence of benevolence in\n            our nature, i. 20, 21, _note_.\n  On the pleasure derived from virtue, 32, _note_.\n  His analysis of moral judgments, 76.\n  His definition of conscience, 83\n\nByzantine Empire, general sketch of the moral condition of the, ii. 13,\n            14.\n  Moral condition of the empire during the Christian period, 147\n\nC\u00e6dmon, story of the origin of his \u201cCreation of the World,\u201d ii. 204\n\nC\u00e6sar, Julius, denies the immortality of the soul, i. 182.\n  His condemnation of suicide, 213.\n  His colonial policy, 233.\n  His multiplication of gladiatorial shows, 273\n\nCaligula, his intoxication with his imperial dignity, i. 259.\n  His superstitious fears, 367\n\nCalvinists: tendency of the Supralapsarian to deny the existence of a\n            moral sense, i. 17, _note_\n\nCamma, conjugal fidelity of, ii. 341\n\nCapital punishment, aversion to, ii. 39\n\nCarlyle, Thomas, on self-sacrifice, i. 57, _note_.\n  The influence of conscience on the happiness of men, 62\n\nCarneades, his expulsion from Rome proposed by Cato, i. 399\n\nCarpocrates, licentiousness of the followers of, i. 417\n\nCarthage, effect of the destruction of, on the decadence of Rome, i. 169.\n  The Decian persecution at, 452\n\nCarthaginians, the, amongst the most prominent of Latin writers, i. 235\n\nCassius, the tyrannicide, his suicide, i. 215\n\nCastellio, his exposure of the forgeries of the Sibylline books, i. 377\n\nCatacombs, the, i. 453, 455\n\nCatholicism, Roman, the system of education adopted by, contrasted with\n            that of the English public schools, i. 114.\n  Conflict of the priests with political economists on the subject of\n              early marriages, 114, 115.\n  The teaching of, on many points the extreme antithesis of that of the\n              pagan philosophers, 208.\n  Its view of death, 208, 210.\n  Little done by it for humanity to animals, ii. 173, 177, 188.\n  Influence on despotism, 186.\n  Its total destruction of religious liberty, 194-199.\n  Causes of the indifference to truth manifested in its literature, 241.\n  Protestantism contrasted with it, 368\n\nCato, his refusal to consult the oracles, i. 165, _note_.\n  His stoicism, 185.\n  His inhumanity to his slaves, 193.\n  His study of the \u201cPh\u00e6don\u201d the night he committed suicide, 212.\n  His opposition to Greek philosophy, 231.\n  His view of pre-nuptial chastity, ii. 314\n\nCattle plague, theological notions respecting the, i. 356\n\nCatullus, on the death of a sparrow, ii. 165, _note_\n\nCautinus, Bishop, his drunkenness, ii. 236\n\nCelibacy among the ancients, i. 106.\n  The Catholic monastic system, 107.\n  How discouraged by Augustus, 232.\n  Celibacy the primal virtue of the Christians of the fourth and fifth\n              centuries, ii. 122.\n  Effect of this upon moral teaching, 122, 123.\n  History of the celibacy of the clergy, 328, 336\n\nCelsus calls the Christians Sibyllists, i. 376.\n  And jugglers, 384\n\nCelts, Spanish, their worship of death, i. 206, 207.\n  Causes of their passion for suicide, 207, _note_.\n  Their lamentations on the birth of men, 207, _note_\n\nCensors, Roman, minute supervision of the, i. 168\n\nCharacter, influence of, on opinion, i. 172.\n  Governed in a great measure by national circumstances, 172\n\nChariot races, passion for, at Constantinople, ii. 37\n\nCharity, a form of self-love, according to the Utilitarians, i. 9, and\n            _note_.\n  Impossibility of charity becoming a pleasure if practised only with a\n              view to that end, 36.\n  Charity of the Stoics, 191.\n  Cicero\u2019s emphatic assertion of the duty, 240.\n  Exertions of the Christians in the cause of charity, ii. 75, 79.\n  Inadequate place given to this movement in history, 84, 85.\n  Christian charity, in what it consists, 73.\n  Laws of the Romans, 73.\n  Pagan examples of charity, 78.\n  Noble enthusiasm of the Christians in the cause of charity, 78, 79.\n  Charity enjoined as a matter of justice, 81.\n  Theological notions of charity, 85, 90, 91.\n  Evils of Catholic charity, 93-94.\n  Legends respecting the virtue, 245, and _note_\n\nCharlemagne, his law respecting Sunday, ii. 245.\n  Fascination exercised by him over the popular imagination, 271, 272.\n  His polygamy, 343\n\nCharles V., the Emperor, his law against beggars, ii. 97\n\nCharles Martel, his defeat of the Mohammedans, at Poictiers, ii. 273\n\nCharondas, law of, on second marriages, ii. 325, _note_\n\nChastity, in Utilitarian systems, i. 12, 49.\n  Sketch of the history of, 103-107.\n  The Catholic monastic system, 107.\n  Modern judgments of, ii. 282, 283.\n  Cato\u2019s views, 314.\n  Mystical views, 315.\n  Services of the ascetics in enforcing the duty of chastity, 318-320\n\nChildren, charge of murdering infants, among the early Christians, i. 417.\n  Abortion, ii. 20-24.\n  Infanticide, 24, 26.\n  Exposed children, 32.\n  Institutions of the Romans for the benefit of children, 77\n\nChilon, his closing hours, i. 207\n\nCholera, theological notions respecting the, i. 356\n\nChristian and pagan virtues compared, i. 190\n\nChristianity; distinctions between the pagan and Christian conceptions of\n            death, i. 208.\n  The importance of Christianity not recognised by pagan writers, 336.\n  Causes of this, 338.\n  Examination of the theory which ascribes part of the teaching of the\n              later pagan moralists to Christian influence, 340.\n  Theory which attributes the conversion of Rome to evidences of miracles,\n              346.\n  Opinion of the pagans about the credulity of the Christians, 347.\n  Incapacity of the Christians of the third century for judging historic\n              miracles, 375.\n  And for judging prophecies, 376.\n  Contemporary miracles represented as existing among them, 377.\n  Christian miracles had probably little weight with the pagans, 385.\n  Progress of Christianity to what due, 386, 387.\n  Singular adaptation of it to the wants of the time, 387.\n  Heroism it inspired, 390.\n  Explanation of the conversion of the Roman Empire, 393.\n  Account of the persecutions of the Christians, 395.\n  Reasons why the Christians were more persecuted than the Jews, 403, 406,\n              407.\n  The first cause of the persecution of the Christians, 406.\n  Charges of immorality brought against them, 414.\n  Due in a great measure to Jews and heretics, 416, 417.\n  The disturbance of domestic life caused by female conversions, 418.\n  Antipathy of the Romans to every system which employed religious\n              terrorism, 421.\n  Christian intolerance of pagan worship, 423.\n  And of diversity of belief, 424-427.\n  History of the persecutions, 429.\n  Nero\u2019s, 429.\n  Domitian\u2019s, 431.\n  Condition of the Christians under the Antonines, 434.\n  Become profoundly obnoxious to the people, 436.\n  Marcus Aurelius, 439, 440.\n  Introduction of Christianity into France, 442, and _note_.\n  Attitude of the rulers towards it from M. Aurelius to Decius, 451, _et\n              seq._\n  Condition of the Church on the eve of the Decian persecution, 448.\n  Gallus, 454.\n  Valerian, 454.\n  Gallienus, 455.\n  Erection of churches in the Empire, 457.\n  Persecutions of Diocletian and Galerius, 458.\n  End of the persecutions, 463.\n  Massacre of Christians in Phrygia, 464.\n  Moral efficacy of the Christian sense of sin, ii. 3.\n  Dark views of human nature not common in the early Church, 5.\n  The penitential system, 6.\n  Empire Christianity attained in eliciting disinterested enthusiasm, 8.\n  Great purity of the early Christians, 10, 11.\n  The promise of the Church for many centuries falsified, 12.\n  The first consequence of Christianity a new sense of the sanctity of\n              human life, 17.\n  Influence in the protection of infant life, 20-32.\n  In the suppression of gladiatorial shows, 34.\n  Its effect upon persecutions, 40, _et seq._\n  The penal code not lightened by it, 42.\n  Condemnation of suicide, 43.\n  Second consequence of Christianity Teaches universal brotherhood, 61.\n  Slavery, 61-66.\n  Ransom of captives, 72.\n  Charity, 73.\n  Exertions of the Christians in the cause of charity, 75, 79.\n  Their exertions when the Empire was subverted, 81, 82, 88.\n  Theological notions concerning insanity, 85-90.\n  Almsgiving, 90-92.\n  Beneficial effect of Christianity in supplying pure images to the\n              imagination, 99.\n  Summary of the philanthropic achievements of Christianity, 100.\n  Ways in which the ascetic mode of life affected both the ideal type and\n              realised condition of morals, 122, _et seq._\n  History of the relations of Christianity to the civic virtues, 140.\n  Improvements effected by Christianity in the morals of the people, 153.\n  Attitude of Christianity to the barbarians, 178.\n  How it achieved their conversion, 179-181.\n  Tendency of the barbarians to adulterate it, 181.\n  Legends of the conflict between the old gods and the new faith, 181.\n  Fierce hatred of rival sects, and total destruction of religious\n              liberty, 194, 200.\n  Polytheistic and idolatrous form of Christianity in medi\u00e6val times, 229.\n  The doctrine of purgatory, 232.\n  Benefits conferred by the monasteries, 243-245.\n  The observance of Sunday, 245.\n  Influence of Christianity upon war, 254, 259.\n  Upon the consecration of secular rank, 260, _et seq._\n  Upon the condition of women, 316, _et seq._\n  Strong assertion of the equality of obligation in marriage, 345, 346.\n  Relation of Christianity to the female virtues, 358, _et seq._\n\nChrysippus on the immortality of the soul, i. 183\n\nChrysostom, St., his labours for monachism, ii. 107.\n  His treatment of his mother, 132\n\nCicero on the evidence of a Divine element within us, i. 56, _note_.\n  His definition of conscience, 83.\n  His conception of the Deity, 164.\n  His opinion of the popular beliefs, 165.\n  Instance of his love of truth, 176, _note_.\n  His desire for posthumous reputation, 185, _note_.\n  His declaration as to virtue concealing itself from the world, 185.\n  His belief in the immortality of the soul, 204.\n  His view of death, 205, 206.\n  His complacency on the approach of death, 207.\n  His conception of suicide, 213.\n  His maintenance of the doctrine of universal brotherhood, 240.\n  How he regarded the games of the arena, 285.\n  His friendship with his freedman Tiro, 323.\n  His remarks on charity, ii. 79.\n  His rules respecting almsgiving, 92\n\nCircumcelliones, atrocities of the, ii. 41.\n  Their custom of provoking martyrdom, 49\n\nCivic virtues, predominance accorded to, in ancient ethics, i. 200\n\nCivilisation, refining influence of, on taste, i. 79.\n  Pleasures of a civilised and semi-civilised society compared, 86.\n  Views of Mill and Buckle on the comparative influence of intellectual\n              and moral agencies in, 102, _note_.\n  Effect of education in diminishing cruelty, and producing charity, 134.\n  Moral enthusiasm appropriate to different stages of civilisation, 136.\n  Increase of veracity with civilisation, 137.\n  Each stage of civilisation specially appropriate to some virtue, 147\n\nClarke, on moral judgments, i. 77\n\nClassical literature, preservation of, ii. 199.\n  Manner in which it was regarded by the Church, 200-204\n\nClaudius, his delight in gladiatorial shows, i. 280.\n  His decree as to slaves, 307\n\nClaver, Father, his remark on some persons who had delivered a criminal\n            into the hands of justice, i. 41, _note_\n\nCleanthes, his suicide, i. 212\n\nClemency, Seneca\u2019s distinction between it and pity, i. 189\n\nClement of Alexandria, on the two sources of all the wisdom of antiquity,\n            i. 344.\n  On the Sibylline books, 376.\n  On wigs, ii. 149\n\nClemens, Flavius, put to death, i. 433\n\nCleombrotus, his suicide, i. 212, _note_\n\nClergy, corruption of the, from the fourth century, ii. 150, 237.\n  Submission of the Eastern, but independence of the Western, clergy to\n              the civil power, 264-268.\n  History of their celibacy, 328\n\nClimate, effects of, in stimulating or allaying the passions, i. 144\n\nClotaire, his treatment of Queen Brunehaut, ii. 237\n\nClotilda, her conversion of her husband, i. 410; ii. 180\n\nClovis, his conversion, i. 410; ii. 180.\n  Gregory of Tours\u2019 account of his acts, 240, 241\n\nCock-fighting among the ancients and moderns, ii. 164, and _note_, 175,\n            _note_\n\nCock-throwing, ii. 164, _note_, 175, _note_\n\nCoemgenus, St., legend of, ii. 111, _note_\n\nColeridge, S. T., his remarks on the practice of virtue as a pleasure, i.\n            28, _note_.\n  His admiration for Hartley, 28, _note_.\n  On the binding ground of the belief of God and a hereafter, i. 55,\n              _note_\n\nColman, St., his animal companions, ii. 170.\n  His girdle, 319, _note_\n\nColonies, Roman, the cosmopolitan spirit forwarded by the aggrandisement\n            of the, i. 233\n\nColosseum, the, i. 275.\n  Games at the dedication of the, 280\n\nColumbanus, St., his missionary labours, ii. 246\n\nComedy, Roman, short period during which it flourished, i. 277\n\nComet, a temple erected by the Romans in honour of a, i. 367\n\nCommodus, his treatment of the Christians, i. 443\n\nCompassion, theory that it is the cause of our acts of barbarity, i. 71,\n            72\n\nConcubines, Roman, ii. 350\n\nConcupiscence, doctrine of the Fathers respecting, ii. 281\n\nCondillac, cause of the attractiveness of utilitarianism to, i. 71.\n  Connection with Locke, i. 122, _note_\n\nConfessors, power of the, in the early Church, i. 390, and _note_\n\nCongo, Helv\u00e9tius, on a custom of the people of, i. 102, _note_\n\nConquerors, causes of the admiration of, i. 94, 95\n\nConscience, association of ideas generating, i. 28.\n  Recognised by the disciples of Hartley, 29.\n  Definitions of Hobbes, Locke, Bentham, and Bain, 29, _note_.\n  The rewards and punishments of conscience, 60-62.\n  Unique position of, in our nature, 83.\n  As defined by Cicero, the Stoics, St. Paul, and Butler, 83\n\nConsequences, remote, weakness of the utilitarian doctrine of, i. 42-44\n\n\u201cConsolations,\u201d literature of, leading topics of, i. 204\n\nConstantine, the Emperor, his foundation of the empire of the East, ii.\n            12.\n  His humane policy towards children, 29, 30.\n  His sanction of the gladiatorial shows, 35.\n  His laws mitigating the severity of punishments, 42.\n  His treatment of slaves, 64.\n  His law respecting Sunday, 244.\n  Magnificence of his court at Constantinople, 265\n\nConventual system, effect of the suppression of the, on women, ii. 369\n\nCordeilla, or Cordelia, her suicide, ii. 53, _note_\n\nCorinth, effect of the conquest of, on the decadence of Rome, i. 169\n\nCornelia, a vestal virgin, incident of her execution, ii. 318, _note_\n\nCornelius, the bishop, martyrdom of, i. 454\n\nCornutus, his disbelief in a future state, i. 183\n\nCorporations, moral qualities of, i. 152\n\nCouncils of the Church, character of the, ii. 197, _note_\n\nCourtesans, Greek, ii. 287.\n  Causes of their elevation, 291-294.\n  How regarded by the Romans, 300\n\nCousin, Victor, his criticism of the Scotch moralists, i. 74, _note_.\n  His objection against Locke, 75, _note_\n\nCrantor, originates the literature of \u201cConsolations,\u201d i. 204\n\nCremutius Cordus, trial of, i. 448, _note_\n\nCrime, value attached by the monks to pecuniary compensations for, ii.\n            213.\n  Catalogue of crimes of the seventh century, 237-239\n\nCriminals, causes of our indulgent judgment of, i. 135\n\nCritical spirit, the, destroyed by Neoplatonism, i. 330\n\nCromaziano, his history of suicide, i. 216, _note_\n\nCruelty, origin and varieties of, i. 132, 134.\n  Cruelty to animals, utilitarian doctrine concerning, 46, 47\n\nCrusius, his adherence to the opinion of Ockham as to the foundation of\n            the moral law, i. 17, _note_\n\nCudworth, his analysis of moral judgments, i. 76\n\nCulagium, a tax levied on the clergy, ii. 330\n\nCumberland, Bishop, his unselfish view of virtue, i. 19, _note_\n\nCynics, account of the later, i. 309\n\nCyprian, St., his evasion of persecution by flight, i. 452.\n  His exile and martyrdom, 455\n\nCyzicus deprived of its freedom, i. 259\n\nD\u00e6mons, Apuleius\u2019 disquisition on the doctrine of, i. 323.\n  The doctrine supersedes the Stoical naturalism, i. 331.\n  The d\u00e6mons of the Greeks and Romans, 380.\n  And of the Christians, 382\n\nDale, Van, his denial of the supernatural character of the oracles, i. 374\n\nDead, Roman worship of the, i. 168\n\nDeath, calmness with which some men of dull and animal natures can meet,\n            i. 89.\n  Frame of mind in which a man should approach death, according to\n              Epictetus, 195.\n  Preparation for death one of the chief ends of the philosophy of the\n              ancients, 202.\n  Bacon\u2019s objection to the Stoics\u2019 view of, 202.\n  The Irish legend of the islands of life and death, 203.\n  The literature of \u201cConsolations,\u201d 204.\n  Death not regarded by the philosophers as penal, 205.\n  Popular terrors of death, 205, 206.\n  Instances of tranquil pagan deaths, 207.\n  Distinctions between the pagan and Christian conceptions of death, 208\n\nDecius, persecution of the Christians under, i. 449, 450\n\nDefoe, Daniel, his tract against beggars, ii. 98, and _note_\n\nDelphi, oracle of, its description of the best religion, i. 167\n\nDeogratias, his ransom of prisoners, ii. 72\n\nDespotism, Helv\u00e9tius\u2019 remarks on the moral effects of, i. 129, _note_\n\nDiagoras, his denial of the existence of the gods, i. 162\n\nDiodorus, the philosopher, his suicide, i. 215\n\nDion Chrysostom, his denunciation of images of the Deity, i. 166, 167,\n            _note_.\n  His life and works, 312\n\nDionysius of Halicarnassus, on the creed of the Romans, i. 167\n\nDisinterestedness, Bentham\u2019s remarks on, quoted, i. 32, _note_\n\nDisposition, what constitutes, according to the theory of association, i.\n            30\n\nDivination, a favourite subject of Roman ridicule, i. 166.\n  Belief of the ancients in, 363\n\nDivorce, unbounded liberty of, among the Romans, ii. 306-308.\n  Condemned by the Church, 350, 351\n\nDocet\u00e6, their tenets, ii. 102\n\nDog-star, legend of the, ii. 162\n\nDolphin, legends of the, ii. 162, and _note_\n\nDomestic laws, Roman, changes in, i. 297, 298\n\nDomestic virtues, destruction of the, by the ascetics, ii. 125\n\nDomitian, his law respecting suicide, i. 219.\n  Anecdote of his cruelty, 289.\n  His law as to slaves, 307.\n  His persecution of the Stoics and Christians, 431, 432\n\nDomitilla, banishment of, i. 433\n\nDomnina, her suicide with her daughters, ii. 46\n\nDonatists, their intolerance, ii. 195\n\nDowry of women, rise of the, ii. 277 and _note_\n\nDreams, opinions of the Romans concerning, i. 366, 367, _note_\n\nDumont, M., on vengeance quoted, i. 41, _note_\n\nDuty, theory of morals must explain what is, and the notion of there being\n            such a thing as, i. 5.\n  Paley on the difference between it and prudence, 15, 16, _note_.\n  Distinction between natural duties and those resting on positive law,\n              93.\n  Duty a distinct motive, 180\n\nDwarfs, combats of, in the arena, i. 281\n\nEarthquakes, how regarded by the ancients, i. 369.\n  Cause of persecutions of the Christians, 408\n\nEaster controversy, bitterness of the, ii. 198\n\nEclectic school of philosophy, rise of the, i. 242.\n  Its influence on the Stoics, 245\n\nEclipses, opinions of the ancients concerning, i. 366\n\nEducation, importance ascribed to, by the theory of the association of\n            ideas, i. 30.\n  Contrast between that adopted by the Catholic priesthood and that of the\n              English public schools, 114.\n  Its influence on the benevolent feelings, 133, 134.\n  Two distinct theories of, 187\n\nEgypt, the cradle of monachism, ii. 105.\n  The Mohammedan conquest of, 143.\n  Triumphs of the Catholics in, 196\n\nEgyptians, their reverence for the vulture, i. 108, _note_.\n  Their kindness to animals, 289.\n  Contrast of the spirit of their religion with that of the Greeks, 324.\n  Difference between the Stoical and Egyptian pantheism, 325\n\nElephants, legends of, ii. 161\n\nEmperors, Roman, apotheosis of, i. 170, 257\n\nEndura, the Albigensian practice of, ii. 49\n\nEngland, national virtues and vices of, i. 153.\n  Ancient amusements of, ii. 174, 175, _note_\n\nEphrem, St., his charity, ii. 81\n\nEpictetus, his disbelief in a future state, i. 183.\n  His life and works, 184, and _note_.\n  On the frame of mind in which a man should approach death, 195.\n  His views of the natural virtue of man, 198.\n  On suicide, 214, _note_, 220.\n  On universal brotherhood, 254.\n  His stoicism tempered by a milder and more religious spirit, 245, 246.\n  His remarks on national religious beliefs, 405\n\nEpicureans, their faith preserved unchanged at Athens, i. 128, and _note_.\n  Their scepticism, 162.\n  Roman Epicureans, 162, 163.\n  Epicureanism the expression of a type of character different from\n              Stoicism, 171, 172.\n  But never became a school of virtue in Rome, 175.\n  Destructive nature of its functions, 176.\n  Esteemed pleasure as the ultimate end of our actions, 186.\n  Encouraged physical science, 193.\n  Their doctrine as to suicide, 214, 215, _note_\n\nEpicurus, the four canons of, i. 14.\n  Vast place occupied by his system in the moral history of man, 171.\n  His character, 175, 176, _note_.\n  Lucretius\u2019 praise of him, 197.\n  His view of death, 205.\n  Discovery of one of his treatises at Herculaneum, 205, _note_\n\nEpidemics, theological notions respecting, i. 356\n\nEpiphanius, St., his miraculous stories, i. 378.\n  His charges against the Gnostics, 417.\n  Legend of him and St. Hilarius, ii. 159\n\nEpponina, story of her conjugal fidelity, ii. 342\n\nError, the notion of the guilt of, ii. 190-193\n\nEssenes, virginity their ideal of sanctity, i. 109, ii. 102\n\nEuhemerus, his explanation of the legends, i. 163\n\nEuphrates the Stoic, his answer to Pliny the Younger, i. 202.\n  Has permission from Hadrian to commit suicide, 218, _note_\n\nEuphraxia, St., ii. 110\n\nEuripides, beauty of the gentler virtues inculcated in the plays of, i.\n            228\n\nEusebius, on the allegorical and mythical interpretations of paganism, i.\n            163, _note_.\n  His account of the Christian persecutions, i. 463\n\nEusebius, St., his penances, ii. 108\n\nEustathius, condemnation of, by the council of Gangra, ii. 131\n\nEvagrius, his inhumanity to his parents, ii. 125\n\nEvil, views of Hobbes and the Utilitarians of the essence and origin of,\n            i. 8-10\n\nExcellence, supreme, how far it is conducive to happiness, i. 56\n\nExcommunication, penalties of, ii. 7\n\nExecutioners, always regarded as unholy, i. 41\n\nExorcism, among the early Christians, i. 378, 380.\n  Origin of the notions of possession and exorcism, 380.\n  Jews the principal exorcists, 380.\n  Belief of the early Christians in, 382.\n  Contempt of the pagans for it, 384.\n  Ulpian\u2019s law against exorcists, 384.\n  Probable explanation of possession and exorcism, 385.\n  Speedy decline of exorcism, 385.\n  The practice probably had no appreciable influence in provoking\n              persecution of the Christians, 420\n\nExperience, general statement of the doctrine which bases morals upon, i.\n            5\n\nFabianus, martyrdom of, i. 446\n\nFabiola, founded the first public hospital, ii. 80\n\nFabius, his self-sacrifice, i. 185\n\nFabius Pictor, his works written in Greek, i. 230\n\nFaculty, moral, the term, i. 75\n\nFairies, belief in, i. 348, 349\n\nFatalism, \u00c6schylus the poet of, i. 196\n\nFelicitas, St., her martyrdom, i. 444.\n  In prison, ii. 9\n\nF\u00e9nelon, on the unselfish love we should bear to God, i. 18, _note_\n\nFetishism, latent, the root of a great part of our opinions, i. 350\n\nFiden\u00e6, accident at the amphitheatre at, i. 275\n\nFights, sham, in Italy in the middle ages, ii. 37, 38\n\nFire, regarded by the ancients as an emblem of virginity, i. 108, _note_\n\nFish, symbol of the early Christians, i. 376\n\nFlamens of Jupiter, ii. 298\n\nFlora, games of, i. 276\n\nForethought, brought into a new position by industrial habits, i. 140\n\nFoundlings, hospitals for, ii. 23, _note_, 32.\n  In ancient times, 28, 29.\n  Adversaries of, 98, and _note_\n\nFrance, condition of, under the Merovingian kings, ii. 236, _note_\n\nFrancis of Assisi, St., story of his death from asceticism, ii. 49.\n  His kindness to animals, 172\n\nFranks, cause of their conversion, i. 410\n\nFr\u00e9d\u00e9gonde, Queen, her crimes, ii. 236, 237\n\nFreedmen, influence of, at Rome, i. 233.\n  Condition of the freedmen of the Romans, 236\n\nFrenchmen, the chief national virtues and causes of their influence in\n            Europe, i. 152.\n  Compared with Anglo-Saxon nations, 153\n\nFriendship, Utilitarian view of, i. 10\n\nGalerius, his persecution of the Christians, i. 458, 461.\n  His illness, 462.\n  Relents towards the Christians, 462\n\nGalil\u00e6ans, their indifference to death, i. 392, _note_\n\nGall, St., legend of, ii. 182.\n  His missionary labours, 247\n\nGallienus, proclaims toleration to the Christians, i. 455, 457\n\nGallus, the Emperor, persecutions of the Christians under, i. 454\n\nGambling-table, moral influence of the, i. 148\n\nGaul, introduction of Christianity into, i. 442.\n  Foundation of the monastic system in, ii. 106.\n  Long continuance of polygamy among the kings of, 343\n\nGay, his view of the origin of human actions, quoted, i. 8, _note_.\n  His suggestion of the theory of association, 23, 24\n\nGenseric, effect of his conquest of Africa upon Italy, ii. 82.\n  His capture of Rome, 83\n\nGeorge of Cappadocia, his barbarity, ii. 195\n\nGermanicus, the Emperor, fury of the populace with the gods, in\n            consequence of the death of, i. 169\n\nGermanus, St., his charity, ii. 245\n\nGermany, conversion of, to Christianity, ii. 246.\n  Marriage customs of the early Germans, 278.\n  Their chastity, 340, 341\n\nGervasius, St., recovery of his remains, i. 379.\n\nGirdles of chastity, ii. 319, _note_\n\nGladiatorial shows, influence of Christianity on the suppression of, i.\n            34.\n  Reasons why the Romans saw nothing criminal in them, 101.\n  History and effect on the Romans of, 271-283.\n  How regarded by moralists and historians, 284.\n  The passion for them not inconsistent with humanity in other spheres,\n              288.\n\nGnostics, accusations against the, by the early Fathers, i. 417.\n  Their tenets, ii. 102\n\nGod, the Utilitarian view of the goodness of, i. 9, and _note_.\n  Question of the disinterestedness of the love we should bear to, 18.\n  Our knowledge of Him derived from our own moral nature, 55.\n  Early traces of an all-pervading soul of nature in Greece, 161, 162,\n              170.\n  Philosophic definitions of the Deity, 162, _note_.\n  Pantheistic conception of, by the Stoics and Platonists, 163.\n  Recognition of Providence by the Roman moralists, 196.\n  Two aspects under which the Stoics worshipped the Divinity\u2014providence\n              and moral goodness, 198\n\nGods, the, of the ancients, i. 161, _et seq._\n  Euhemerus\u2019 theory of the explanation of the prevailing legends of the\n              gods, 163.\n  Views of Cicero of the popular beliefs, 165.\n  Opinions of the Stoics, of Ovid, and of Horace, 166.\n  Nature of the gods of the Romans, 167.\n  Decline of Roman reverence for the gods, 168, 169\n\nGood, pleasure equivalent to, according to the Utilitarians, i. 8, _note_,\n            9\n\nGracchi, colonial policy of the, i. 233\n\nGrazers, sect of, ii. 109\n\nGreeks, ancient, their callous murder of children, i. 45, 46.\n  Low state of female morality among them.\n  Their enforcement of monogamy, 104.\n  Celibacy of some of their priests and priestesses, 105.\n  Early traces of a religion of nature, 161.\n  Universal providence attributed to Zeus, 161.\n  Scepticism of the philosophers, 161, 162.\n  Importance of biography in the moral teaching of the, i. 74.\n  Difference between the teaching of the Roman moralists and the Greek\n              poets, 195.\n  On death, and future punishment, 205, 206.\n  Greek suicides, 212.\n  Gentleness and humanity of the Greek character, 227.\n  Influence on Roman character, 227, 228.\n  The Greek spirit at first as far removed from cosmopolitanism as that of\n              Rome, 228.\n  Causes of Greek cosmopolitanism, 229.\n  Extent of Greek influence at Rome, 230.\n  Gladiatorial shows among them, 276.\n  Spirit of their religion contrasted with that of the Egyptians, 324.\n  Their intolerance of foreign religions, 406.\n  Condition and fall of their empire of the East, ii. 12-14.\n  Their practice of infanticide, 25-27.\n  Their treatment of animals, 164.\n  Their treatment of prisoners taken in war, 257, 258.\n  Their marriage customs, 277.\n  Women in the poetic age, 278.\n  Peculiarity of Greek feelings on the position of women, 280, 281.\n  Unnatural forms assumed by vice amongst them, 294\n\nGregory the Great, his contempt for Pagan literature, ii. 201, _note_.\n  His attitude towards Phocas, 264\n\nGregory of Nyssa, St., his eulogy of virginity, ii. 322\n\nGregory of Tours, manner in which he regarded events, ii. 240-242, 261,\n            277\n\nGrotesque, or eccentric, pleasure derived from the, compared with that\n            from beauty, i. 85\n\nGundebald, his murders approved of by his bishop, ii. 237\n\nGunpowder, importance of the invention of, i. 126\n\nGuy, Brother, his society for protection and education of children, ii.\n            33, and _note_\n\nHadrian, the Emperor, his view of suicide, i. 219.\n  Gives Euphrates permission to destroy himself, 218, _note_.\n  His laws respecting slaves, 307.\n  His leniency towards Christianity, 438.\n  His benevolence, ii. 77\n\nHair, false, opinions of the Fathers on, ii. 149\n\nHall, Robert, on theological Utilitarianism, i. 15 _note_\n\n\u201cHappiness, the greatest, for the greatest number,\u201d theory of the, i. 3.\n  The sole end of human actions, according to the Utilitarians, 8, _note_.\n  The best man seldom the happiest, 69.\n  Mental compared with physical happiness, 87.\n  Influence of health and temperament on happiness, 88, and _note_\n\nHartley, his doctrine of association, i. 22.\n  Coleridge\u2019s admiration for him, 28, _note_.\n  On animal food, 48, _note_.\n  His attempt to evade the conclusion to which his view leads, quoted, 67,\n              _note_.\n  His definition of conscience, 82\n\nHegesias, the orator of death, i. 215\n\nHeliogabalus, his blasphemous orgies, i. 260\n\nHell, monkish visions of, ii. 221 and _note_.\n  Glimpses of the infernal regions furnished by the \u201cDialogues\u201d of St.\n              Gregory, 221.\n  Modern publications on this subject, 223, _note_\n\nHelv\u00e9tius, on the origin of human actions, i. 8, _note_.\n  On customs of the people of Congo and Siam, 102, _note_.\n  Compared with Aulus Gellius, 313\n\nHerbert, of Cherbury, Lord, his profession of the doctrine of innate\n            ideas, i. 123\n\nHercules, meaning of, according to the Stoics, i. 163\n\nHereford, Nicholas of, his opposition to indiscriminate alms, ii. 96\n\nHeresy, punishment of death for, i. 98; ii. 40\n\nHermits. _See_ Asceticism; Monasticism\n\nHeroism, the Utilitarian theory unfavourable to, i. 66.\n  War, the school of heroism, 173\n\nHilarius, St., legend of him and St. Epiphanius, ii. 159\n\nHildebrand, his destruction of priestly marriage, ii. 322\n\nHippopotamus, legend of the, ii. 161\n\nHistorical literature, scantiness of, after the fall of the Roman empire,\n            ii. 235\n\nHobbes, Thomas, his opinions concerning the essence and origin of virtue,\n            i. 7, 8, _note_.\n  His view of the origin of human actions, quoted, 8, _note_.\n  His remarks on the goodness which we apprehend in God, quoted, 9,\n              _note_.\n  And on reverence, 9, _note_.\n  On charity, 9, 10, _note_.\n  On pity, 10, _note_.\n  Review of the system of morals of his school, 11.\n  Gives the first great impulse to moral philosophy in England, 19,\n              _note_.\n  His denial of the reality of pure benevolence, 20, 21.\n  His definition of conscience, 29, _note_.\n  His theory of compassion, 72, _note_\n\nHolidays, importance of, to the servile classes, ii. 244\n\nHomer, his views of human nature and man\u2019s will, i. 196\n\nHorace, his ridicule of idols, i. 166.\n  His description of the just man, 197\n\nHospitality enjoined by the Romans, ii. 79\n\nHospitals, foundation of the first, ii. 80, 81\n\nHuman life, its sanctity recognised by Christianity, ii. 18.\n  Gradual acquirement of this sense, 18\n\nHuman nature, false estimate of, by the Stoics, i. 192\n\nHume, David, his theory of virtue, i. 4.\n  Misrepresented by many writers, 4.\n  His recognition of the reality of benevolence in our nature, 20, and\n              _note_.\n  His comment on French licentiousness in the eighteenth century, 50,\n              _note_.\n  His analysis of the moral judgments, 76.\n  Lays the foundation for a union of the schools of Clarke and\n              Shaftesbury, 77\n\nHumility, new value placed upon it by monachism, ii. 185, 187\n\nHutcheson, Francis, his doctrine of a \u201cmoral sense,\u201d i. 4.\n  Establishes the reality of the existence of benevolence in our nature,\n              20.\n  His analysis of moral judgments, 76\n\nHypatia, murder of, ii. 196\n\nIamblichus, his philosophy, i. 330\n\nIdeas, confused association of. Question whether our, are derived\n            exclusively from sensation or whether they spring in part from\n            the mind itself, 122.\n  The latter theory represented by the Platonic doctrine of pre-existence,\n              122.\n  Doctrine of innate ideas, 122\n\nIdols and idolatry, views of the Roman philosophers of, i. 166.\n  Discussion between Apollonius of Tyana and an Egyptian priest\n              respecting, 166, _note_.\n  Idols forbidden by Numa, 166, _note_.\n  Plutarch on the vanity of, 166, _note_\n\nIgnatius, St., his martyrdom, i. 438\n\nIgnis fatuus, legend of the, ii. 224, _note_\n\nImagination, sins of, i. 44.\n  Relation of the benevolent feelings to it, 132, 133.\n  Deficiency of imagination the cause of the great majority of\n              uncharitable judgments, 134-136.\n  Feebleness of the imagination a source of legends and myths, 347.\n  Beneficial effects of Christianity in supplying pure images to the\n              imagination, 299\n\nImperial system of the Romans, its effect on their morals, i. 257.\n  Apotheosis of the emperors, 257\n\nIndia, ancient, admiration for the schools of, i. 229\n\nInductive, ambiguity of the term, as applied to morals, i. 73\n\nIndustrial truth, characteristics of, i. 137.\n  Influence of the promotion of industrial life upon morals, 139-140\n\nInfanticide, history of the practice of, ii. 24.\n  Efforts of the Church to suppress it, 29.\n  Roman laws relating to, 31.\n  Causes of, in England, 285\n\nInfants, Augustinian doctrine of the damnation of unbaptised, i. 96.\n  The Sacrament given to, in the early Church, ii. 6\n\nInsanity, alleged increase of, ii. 60.\n  Theological notions concerning, 86.\n  The first lunatic asylums, 88\n\nInsurance societies among the poor of Greece and Rome, ii. 78\n\nIntellectual progress, its relations to moral progress, i. 149-151\n\nInterest, self-, human actions governed exclusively by, according to the\n            Utilitarians, i. 7, 8, _note_.\n  Summary of the relations of virtue and public and private, 117\n\nIntuition, rival claims of, and utility to be regarded as the supreme\n            regulator of moral distinctions, i. 1, 2.\n  Various names by which the theory of intuition is known, 2, 3.\n  Views of the moralists of the school of, 3.\n  Summary of their objections to the Utilitarian theory, i. 69.\n  The intuitive school, 74, 75.\n  Doctrines of Butler, Adam Smith, and others, 76-77.\n  Analogies of beauty and virtue, 77.\n  Distinction between the higher and lower parts of our nature, 83.\n  Moral judgments, and their alleged diversities, 91.\n  General moral principles alone revealed by intuition, 99.\n  Intuitive morals not unprogressive, 102, 103.\n  Difficulty of both the intuitive and utilitarian schools in finding a\n              fixed frontier line between the lawful and the illicit, 116,\n              117.\n  The intuitive and utilitarian schools each related to the general\n              condition of society, 122.\n  Their relations to metaphysical schools, 123, 124.\n  And to the Baconian philosophy, 125.\n  Contrasts between ancient and modern civilisations, 126, 127.\n  Practical consequences of the opposition between the two schools, 127\n\nInventions, the causes which accelerate the progress of society in modern\n            times, i. 126\n\nIreland, why handed over by the Pope to England, ii. 217\n\nIren\u00e6us, his belief that all Christians had the power of working miracles,\n            i. 378\n\nIrish, characteristics of the, i. 138.\n  Their early marriages and national improvidences, 146.\n  Absence of moral scandals among the priesthood, 146.\n  Their legend of the islands of life and death, 203.\n  Their missionary labours, ii. 246.\n  Their perpendicular burials, 253\n\nIsidore, St., legend of, ii. 205\n\nIsis, worship of, at Rome, i. 387.\n  Suppression of the worship, 402\n\nItalians, characteristics of the, i. 138, 144\n\nItaly, gigantic development of mendicancy in, ii. 98.\n  Introduction of monachism into, 106\n\nJames, the Apostle, Eusebius\u2019 account of him, ii. 105\n\nJames, St., of Venice, his kindness to animals, ii. 172\n\nJenyns, Soame, his adherence to the opinion of Ockham, i. 17, _note_\n\nJerome, St., on exorcism, i. 382.\n  On the clean and unclean animals in the ark, ii. 104.\n  Legend of, 115.\n  Encouraged inhumanity of ascetics to their relations, 134.\n  His legend of SS. Paul and Antony, 158\n\nJews, their law regulating marriage and permitting polygamy, i. 103.\n  Their treatment of suicides, 218, _note_.\n  Influence of their manners and creed at Rome, 235, 337.\n  Became the principal exorcists, 380, 381, _note_.\n  Spread of their creed in Rome, 386.\n  Reasons why they were persecuted less than the Christians, 402, 407.\n  How regarded by the pagans, and how the Christians were regarded by the\n              Jews, 415.\n  Charges of immorality brought against the Christians by the Jews, 417.\n  Domitian\u2019s taxation of them, 432.\n  Their views of the position of women, ii. 337\n\nJoffre, Juan Gilaberto, his foundation of a lunatic asylum in Valencia,\n            ii. 89\n\nJohn, St., at Patmos, i. 433\n\nJohn, St., of Calama, story of, ii. 128\n\nJohn XXIII., Pope, his crimes, ii. 331\n\nJohnson, Dr., his adherence to the opinion of Ockham, i. 17, _note_\n\nJulian, the Emperor, his tranquil death, i. 207, and _note_.\n  Refuses the language of adulation, 259.\n  His attempt to resuscitate paganism, 331.\n  Attitude of the Church towards him, ii. 261.\n  Joy at his death, 262\n\nJulien l\u2019Hospitalier, St., legend of, ii. 84, _note_\n\nJupiter Ammon, fountain of, deemed miraculous, i. 366, and _note_\n\nJustinian, his laws respecting slavery, ii. 65\n\nJustin Martyr, his recognition of the excellence of many parts of the\n            pagan writings, i. 344.\n  On the \u201cseminal logos,\u201d 344.\n  On the Sibylline books, 376.\n  Cause of his conversion to Christianity, 415.\n  His martyrdom, 441\n\nJuvenal, on the natural virtue of man, i. 197\n\nKames, Lord, on our moral judgments, i. 77.\n  Notices the analogies between our moral and \u00e6sthetical judgments, 77\n\nKing\u2019s evil, ceremony of touching for the, i. 363, _note_\n\nLabienus, his works destroyed, i. 448, _note_\n\nLactantius, character of his treatise, i. 463\n\nL\u00e6torius, story of, i. 259\n\nLaughing condemned by the monks of the desert, ii. 115, _note_\n\nLaw, Roman, its relation to Stoicism, i. 294, 295.\n  Its golden age not Christian, but pagan, ii. 42\n\nLawyers, their position in literature, i. 131, _note_\n\nLegacies forbidden to the clergy, ii. 151.\n  Power of making bequests to the clergy enlarged by Constantine, 215\n\nLeibnitz, on the natural or innate powers of man, i. 121, _note_\n\nLeo the Isaurian, Pope, his compact with Pepin, ii. 266\n\nLeonardo da Vinci, his kindness to animals, ii. 172, _note_\n\nLicentiousness, French, Hume\u2019s comments on, i. 50, _note_.\n\nLocke, John, his view of moral good and moral evil, i. 8, _note_.\n  His theological utilitarianism, 16, _note_.\n  His view of the sanctions of morality, 19.\n  His invention of the phrase \u201cassociation of ideas,\u201d 23.\n  His definition of conscience, 29, _note_.\n  Cousin\u2019s objections against him, 75, _note_.\n  His refutation of the doctrine of a natural moral sense, 123, 124.\n  Rise of the sensual school out of his philosophy, 123, _note_.\n  Famous formulary of his school, 124\n\nLombard, Peter, character of his \u201cSentences,\u201d ii. 226.\n  His visions of heaven and hell, 228\n\nLonginus, his suicide, i. 219\n\nLove terms Greek, in vogue with the Romans, i. 231, _note_\n\nLucan, failure of his courage under torture, i. 194.\n  His sycophancy, 194.\n  His cosmopolitanism, 240\n\nLucius, the bishop, martyrdom of, i. 454\n\nLucretius, his scepticism, i. 162.\n  His disbelief in the immortality of the soul, i. 182, _note_.\n  His praise of Epicurus, 197.\n  His suicide, 215.\n  On a bereaved cow, ii. 165\n\nLunatic asylums, the first, ii. 89\n\nLuther\u2019s wife, her remark on the sensuous creed she had left, i. 52\n\nLyons, persecution of the Christians at, i. 441\n\nMacarius, St., miracle attributed to, ii. 40, _note_.\n  His penances, 108, 109.\n  Legend of his visit to an enchanted garden, 158.\n  Other legends of him, 158, 159, 170, 220\n\nMacedonia, effect of the conquest of, on the decadence of Rome, i. 169\n\nMackintosh, Sir James, theory of morals advocated by, i. 4.\n  Fascination of Hartley\u2019s doctrine of association over his mind, 29\n\nMacrianus, persuades the Emperor Valerian to persecute the Christians, i.\n            455\n\nMacrina C\u00e6lia, her benevolence to children, ii. 77\n\nMagdalen asylums, adversaries of, ii. 98, and _note_\n\nMallonia, virtue of, ii. 309\n\nMalthus, on charity, ii. 92, _note_\n\nMandeville, his \u201cEnquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue.\u201d His thesis that\n            \u201cprivate vices are public benefits,\u201d i. 7.\n  His opposition to charity schools, ii. 98\n\nManicheans, their tenets, ii. 102.\n  Their prohibition of animal food, 167\n\nManilius, his conception of the Deity, i. 163\n\nManufactures, influence upon morals, i. 139\n\nMarcellinus, Tullius, his self-destruction, i. 222\n\nMarcia, mistress of Commodus, her influence in behalf of toleration to the\n            Christians, i. 443\n\nMarcian, St., legend of the visit of St. Avitus to him, ii. 159\n\nMarcus, St., story of, and his mother, ii. 128\n\nMarriage, how regarded by the Jews, Greeks, Romans, and Catholics, i. 103,\n            104.\n  Statius\u2019 picture of the first night of marriage, 107, _note_.\n  Reason why the ancient Jews attached a certain stigma to virginity, 109.\n  Conflict of views of the Catholic priest and the political economist on\n              the subject of early marriages, 114.\n  Results in some countries of the difficulties with which legislators\n              surround marriage, 144.\n  Early marriages the most conspicuous proofs of Irish improvidence, 144.\n  Influence of asceticism on, ii. 320.\n  Notions of its impurity, 324.\n  Second marriages, 324\n\nMarseilles, law of, respecting suicide, i. 218, _note_.\n  Epidemic of suicide among the women of, ii. 55\n\nMartial, sycophancy of his epigrams, i. 194\n\nMartin of Tours, St., establishes monachism in Gaul, ii. 106\n\nMartyrdom, glories of, i. 390.\n  Festivals of the Martyrs, 390, _note_.\n  Passion for, 391.\n  Dissipation of the people at the festivals, ii. 150\n\nMary, St., of Egypt, ii. 110\n\nMary, the Virgin, veneration of, ii. 367, 368, 390\n\nMassilians, wine forbidden to women by the, i. 96, _note_\n\nMaternal affection, strength of, ii. 25, _note_\n\nMaurice, on the social penalties of conscience, i. 60, _note_\n\nMauricus, Junius, his refusal to allow gladiatorial shows at Vienna, i.\n            286\n\nMaxentius, instance of his tyranny, ii. 46\n\nMaximilianus, his martyrdom, ii. 248\n\nMaximinus, Emperor, his persecution of the Christians, i. 446\n\nMaximus of Tyre, account of him and his discourses, i. 312.\n  His defence of the ancient creeds, 323.\n  Practical form of his philosophy, 329\n\nMedicine, possible progress of, i. 158, 159\n\nMelania, St., her bereavement, ii. 10.\n  Her pilgrimage through the Syrian and Egyptian hermitages, 120\n\nMilesians, wine forbidden by the, to women, i. 94, _note_\n\nMilitary honour pre-eminent among the Romans, i. 172, 173.\n  History of the decadence of Roman military virtue, 268\n\nMill, J., on association, 25, _note_, _et seq._\n\nMill, J. S., quoted, i. 29, 47, 90, 102\n\nMinerva, meaning of, according to the Stoics, i. 163\n\nMiracles, general incredulity on the subject of, at the present time, i.\n            346, 348.\n  Miracles not impossible, 347.\n  Established by much evidence, 347.\n  The histories of them always decline with education, 348.\n  Illustration of this in the belief in fairies, 348.\n  Conceptions of savages, 349.\n  Legends, formation and decay of, 350-352.\n  Common errors in reasoning about miracles, 356.\n  Predisposition to the miraculous in some states of society, 362.\n  Belief of the Romans in miracles, 363-367.\n  Incapacity of the Christians of the third century for judging historic\n              miracles, 375.\n  Contemporary miracles believed in by the early Christians, 378.\n  Exorcism, 378.\n  Neither past nor contemporary Christian miracles had much weight upon\n              the pagans, 378\n\nMissionary labours, ii. 246\n\nMithra, worship of, in Rome, i. 386\n\nMohammedans, their condemnation of suicide, ii. 53.\n  Their lunatic asylums, 89.\n  Their religion, 251.\n  Effects of their military triumphs on Christianity, 252\n\nMolinos, his opinion on the love we should bear to God, condemned, i. 18,\n            _note_\n\nMonastic system, results of the Catholic monastic system, i. 107.\n  Suicide of monks, ii. 52.\n  Exertions of the monks in the cause of charity, 84.\n  Causes of the monastic movement, 102.\n  History of the rapid propagation of it in the West, 183.\n  New value placed by it on obedience and humility, 185, 269.\n  Relation of it to the intellectual virtues, 188.\n  The monasteries regarded as the receptacles of learning, 199.\n  Fallacy of attributing to the monasteries the genius that was displayed\n              in theology, 208.\n  Other fallacies concerning the services of the monks, 208-212.\n  Value attached by monks to pecuniary compensations for crime, 213.\n  Causes of their corruption, 217.\n  Benefits conferred by the monasteries, 243\n\nMonica, St., i. 94, _note_\n\nMonogamy, establishment of, ii. 372\n\nMonophysites, the cause, to some extent, of the Mohammedan conquest of\n            Egypt, ii. 143\n\nMontanists, their tenets, ii. 102\n\nMoral distinctions, rival claims of intuition and utility to be regarded\n            as the supreme regulators of, i. 1\n\nMoral judgments, alleged diversities of, i. 91.\n  Are frequently due to intellectual causes, 92.\n  Instances of this in usury and abortion, 92.\n  Distinction between natural duties and others resting on positive law,\n              93.\n  Ancient customs canonised by time, 93.\n  Anomalies explained by a confused association of ideas, 94, 95.\n  Moral perceptions overridden by positive religions, 95.\n  Instances of this in transubstantiation and the Augustinian and\n              Calvinistic doctrines of damnation, 96, 97.\n  General moral principles alone revealed by intuition, 99.\n  The moral unity of different ages a unity not of standard but of\n              tendency, 100.\n  Application of this theory to the history of benevolence, 100.\n  Reasons why acts regarded in one age as criminal are innocent in\n              another, 101.\n  Views of Mill and Buckle on the comparative influence of intellectual\n              and moral agencies in civilisation, 102, 103, _note_.\n  Intuitive morals not unprogressive, 102, 103.\n  Answers to miscellaneous objections against the theory of natural moral\n              perceptions, 109.\n  Effect of the condition of society on the standard, but not the essence,\n              of virtue, 110.\n  Occasional duty of sacrificing higher duties to lower ones, 110, _et\n              seq._\n  Summary of the relations of virtue and public and private interest, 117.\n  Two senses of the word natural, 119\n\nMoral law, foundation of the, according to Ockham and his adherents, i.\n            17, _note_.\n  Various views of the sanctions of morality, 19.\n  Utilitarian theological sanctions, 53.\n  The reality of the moral nature the one great question of natural\n              theology, 56.\n  Utilitarian secular sanctions, 57.\n  The Utilitarian theory subversive of morality, 66.\n  Plausibility and danger of theories of unification in morals, 72.\n  Our knowledge of the laws of moral progress nothing more than\n              approximate or general, 136\n\n\u201cMoral sense,\u201d Hutcheson\u2019s doctrine of a, i. 4\n\nMoral system, what it should be, to govern society, i. 194\n\nMorals, each of the two schools of, related to the general condition of\n            society, i. 122.\n  Their relations to metaphysical schools, 123, 124.\n  And to the Baconian philosophy, 125.\n  Contrast between ancient and modern civilisations, 125-127.\n  Causes that lead societies to elevate their moral standard, and\n              determine their preference of some particular kind of\n              virtues, 130.\n  The order in which moral feelings are developed, 130.\n  Danger in proposing too absolutely a single character as a model to\n              which all men must conform, 155.\n  Remarks on moral types, 156.\n  Results to be expected from the study of the relations between our\n              physical and moral nature, 158.\n  Little influence of Pagan religions on morals, 161\n\nMore, Henry, on the motive of virtue, i. 76\n\nMusonius, his suicide, i. 220\n\nMutius, history of him and his son, ii. 125\n\nMysticism of the Romans, causes producing, i. 318\n\nMyths, formation of, i. 351\n\nNaples, mania for suicide at, ii. 55\n\nNapoleon, the Emperor, his order of the day respecting suicide, i. 219,\n            _note_\n\nNations, causes of the difficulties of effecting cordial international\n            friendships, i. 156\n\nNatural moral perceptions, objections to the theory of, i. 116.\n  Two senses of the word natural, 118.\n  Reid, Sedgwick, and Leibnitz on the natural or innate powers of man,\n              121, _note_.\n  Locke\u2019s refutation of the doctrine of a natural moral sense, 124\n\nNeoplatonism, account of, i. 325.\n  Its destruction of the active duties and critical spirit, 329\n\nNeptune, views of the Stoics of the meaning of the legends of, i. 163.\n  His statue solemnly degraded by Augustus, 169\n\nNero, his singing and acting, i. 259.\n  His law about slaves, 307.\n  His persecution of the Christians, 429\n\nNewman, Dr., on venial sin, i. 111, and _note_ on pride, ii. 188\n\nNicodemus, apocryphal gospel of, ii. 221\n\nNilus, St., deserts his family, ii. 322\n\nNitria, number of anchorites in the desert of, ii. 105\n\nNolasco, Peter, his works of mercy, ii. 73.\n  His participation in the Albigensian massacres, 95\n\nNovatians, their tenets, ii. 102\n\nNuma, legend of his prohibition of idols, i. 166, _note_\n\nOath, sanctity of an, among the Romans, i. 168\n\nObedience, new value placed on it by monachism, ii. 185, 186, 269\n\nObligation, nature of, i. 64, 65\n\nOckham, his opinion of the foundation of the moral law, i. 17, and _note_\n\nOdin, his suicide, ii. 53\n\nO\u2019Neale, Shane, his charity, ii. 96\n\nOpinion, influence of character on, i. 171, 172\n\nOracles, refuted and ridiculed by Cicero, i. 165.\n  Plutarch\u2019s defence of their bad poetry, 165, _note_.\n  Refusal of Cato and the Stoics to consult them, 165.\n  Ridiculed by the Roman wits, 166.\n  Answer of the oracle of Delphi as to the best religion, 167.\n  Theory of the oracles in the \u2019De Divinatione\u2019 of Cicero, 368, and\n              _note_.\n  Van Dale\u2019s denial of their supernatural character, 374.\n  Books of oracles burnt under the republic and empire, 447, and _note_\n\nOrigen, his desire for martyrdom, i. 391\n\nOrphanotrophia, in the early Church, ii. 32\n\nOtho, the Emperor, his suicide, i. 219.\n  Opinion of his contemporaries of his act, 219, _note_\n\nOvid, object of his \u201cMetamorphoses,\u201d i. 166.\n  His condemnation of suicide, 213, and _note_.\n  His humanity to animals, ii. 165\n\nOxen, laws for the protection of, ii. 162\n\nOxyrinchus, ascetic life in the city of, ii. 105\n\nPachomius, St., number of his monks, ii. 105\n\nP\u00e6tus and Arria, history of, ii. 310\n\nPagan religions, their feeble influence on morals, i. 161\n\nPagan virtues, the, compared with Christian, i. 190\n\nPaiderastia, the, of the Greeks, ii. 294\n\nPain, equivalent to evil, according to the Utilitarians, i. 8, _note_\n\nPalestine, foundation of monachism in, ii. 106.\n  Becomes a hot-bed of debauchery, 152\n\nPaley, on the obligation of virtue, i. 14, _note_.\n  On the difference between an act of prudence and an act of duty, 16,\n              _note_.\n  On the love we ought to bear to God, 18, _note_.\n  On the religious sanctions of morality, 19.\n  On the doctrine of association, 25, _note_.\n  On flesh diet, 49, _note_.\n  On the influence of health on happiness, 88, _note_.\n  On the difference in pleasures, 90, _note_\n\nPambos, St., story of, ii. 116, _note_\n\nPammachus, St., his hospital, ii. 80\n\nPan\u00e6tius, the founder of the Roman Stoics, his disbelief in the\n            immortality of the soul, i. 183\n\nPandars, punishment of, ii. 316\n\nParents, reason why some savages did not regard their murder as criminal,\n            i. 101\n\nParthenon, the, at Athens, i. 105\n\nPascal, his advocacy of piety as a matter of prudence, i. 17, _note_.\n  His adherence to the opinion of Ockham as to the foundation of the moral\n              law, 17, _note_.\n  His thought on the humiliation created by deriving pleasure from certain\n              amusements, i. 86, _note_\n\nPatriotism, period when it flourished, i. 136.\n  Peculiar characteristic of the virtue, 177, 178.\n  Causes of the predominance occasionally accorded to civic virtues, 200.\n  Neglect or discredit into which they have fallen among modern teachers,\n              201.\n  Cicero\u2019s remarks on the duty of every good man, 201.\n  Unfortunate relations of Christianity to patriotism, ii. 140.\n  Repugnance of the theological to the patriotic spirit, 145\n\nPaul, St., his definition of conscience, i. 83\n\nPaul, the hermit, his flight to the desert, ii. 102.\n  Legend of the visit of St. Antony to him, 158\n\nPaul, St. Vincent de, his foundling hospitals, ii. 34\n\nPaula, story of her asceticism and inhumanity, ii. 133, 134\n\nPaulina, her devotion to her husband, ii. 310\n\nPelagia, St., her suicide, ii. 46.\n  Her flight to the desert, 121, and _note_\n\nPelagius, ii. 223\n\nPelican, legend of the, ii. 161\n\nPenances of the saints of the desert, ii. 107, _et seq._\n\nPenitential system, the, of the early church, ii. 6, 7\n\nPepin, his compact with Pope Leo, ii. 267\n\nPeregrinus the Cynic, his suicide, i. 220\n\nPericles, his humanity, i. 228\n\nPerpetua, St., her martyrdom, i. 391, 444; ii. 317\n\nPersecutions, Catholic doctrines justifying, i. 98.\n  Why Christianity was not crushed by them, 395.\n  Many causes of persecution, 395-397.\n  Reasons why the Christians were more persecuted than the Jews, 403, 406,\n              407.\n  Causes of the persecutions, 406, _et seq._\n  History of the persecutions, 429.\n  Nero, 429.\n  Domitian, 431.\n  Trajan, 437.\n  Marcus Aurelius, 439, 440.\n  From M. Aurelius to Decius, 442, _et seq._\n  Gallus, 454.\n  Valerian, 454.\n  Diocletian and Galerius, 458-463.\n  End of the persecutions, 463.\n  General considerations on their history, 463-468\n\nPetronian law, in favour of slaves, i. 307\n\nPetronius, his scepticism, i. 162.\n  His suicide, 215.\n  His condemnation of the show of the arena, 286\n\nPhilip the Arab, his favour to Christianity, i. 445\n\nPhilosophers, efforts of some, to restore the moral influence of religion\n            among the Romans, i. 169.\n  The true moral teachers, 171\n\nPhilosophical truth, characteristics of, i. 139, 140.\n  Its growth retarded by the opposition of theologians, 140\n\nPhilosophy, causes of the practical character of most ancient, i. 202.\n  Its fusion with religion, 352.\n  Opinions of the early Church concerning the pagan writings, 332.\n  Difference between the moral teaching of a philosophy and that of a\n              religion, ii. 1.\n  Its impotency to restrain vice, 4\n\nPhocas, attitude of the Church towards him, ii. 263\n\nPhocion, his gentleness, i. 228\n\nPhysical science affects the belief in miracles, i. 354, 355\n\nPiety, utilitarian view of the causes of the pleasures and pains of, i. 9,\n            and _note_.\n  A matter of prudence, according to theological Utilitarianism, 16\n\nPilate, Pontius, story of his desire to enrol Christ among the Roman gods,\n            i. 429\n\nPilgrimages, evils of, ii. 152\n\nPior, St., story of, ii. 129\n\nPirates, destruction of, by Pompey, i. 234\n\nPity, a form of self-love, according to some Utilitarians, i. 9, 10,\n            _note_.\n  Adam Smith\u2019s theory, 10, _note_.\n  Seneca\u2019s distinction between it and clemency, 189.\n  Altar to Pity at Athens, 228.\n  History of Marcus Aurelius\u2019 altar to Beneficentia at Rome, 228, _note_\n\nPlato, his admission of the practice of abortion, i. 92.\n  Basis of his moral system, 105.\n  Cause of the banishment of the poets from his republic, 161, 162.\n  His theory that vice is to virtue what disease is to health, 179, and\n              _note_.\n  Reason for his advocacy of community of wives, 200.\n  His condemnation of suicide, 212, and _note_.\n  His remarks on universal brotherhood, 241.\n  His inculcation of the practice of self-examination, 248\n\nPlatonic school, its ideal, i. 322\n\nPlatonists, their more or less pantheistic conception of the Deity, i.\n            163.\n  Practical nature of their philosophy, 329.\n  The Platonic ethics ascendant in Rome, 331\n\nPleasure the only good, according to the Utilitarians, i. 7.\n  Illustrations of the distinction between the higher and lower parts of\n              our nature in our pleasures, 83-85.\n  Pleasures of a civilised compared with those of a semi-civilised\n              society, 86.\n  Comparison of mental and physical pleasures, 87, 88.\n  Distinction in kind of pleasure, and its importance in morals, 89-91.\n  Neglected or denied by Utilitarian writers, 89, _note_\n\nPliny, the elder, on the probable happiness of the lower animals, i. 87,\n            _note_.\n  On the Deity, 164.\n  On astrology, 171, and _note_, 164, _note_.\n  His disbelief in the immortality of the soul, 182.\n  His advocacy of suicide, 215.\n  Never mentions Christianity, 336.\n  His opinion of earthquakes, 369.\n  And of comets, 369.\n  His facility of belief, 370.\n  His denunciation of finger rings, ii. 148\n\nPliny, the younger, his desire for posthumous reputation, i. 185, _note_.\n  His picture of the ideal of Stoicism, 186.\n  His letter to Trajan respecting the Christians, 437.\n  His benevolence, 242; ii. 77\n\nPlotinus, his condemnation of suicide, i. 214.\n  His philosophy, 330\n\nPlutarch, his defence of the bad poetry of the oracles, 165, _note_.\n  His mode of moral teaching, 175.\n  Basis of his belief in the immortality of the soul, 204.\n  On superstitious fear of death, 206.\n  His letter on the death of his little daughter, 242.\n  May justly be regarded as the leader of the eclectic school, 243.\n  His philosophy and works compared with those of Seneca, 243.\n  His treatise on \u201cThe Signs of Moral Progress,\u201d 249.\n  Compared and contrasted with Marcus Aurelius, 253.\n  How he regarded the games of the arena, 286.\n  His defence of the ancient creeds, 322.\n  Practical nature of his philosophy, 329.\n  Never mentions Christianity, 336.\n  His remarks on the domestic system of the ancients, 419.\n  On kindness to animals, ii. 165, 166.\n  His picture of Greek married life, 289\n\nPluto, meaning of, according to the Stoics, i. 163\n\nPo, miracle of the subsidence of the waters of the, i. 382, _note_\n\nP\u0153men, St., story of, and of his mother, ii. 129.\n  Legend of him and the lion, 169\n\nPolitical economy, what it has accomplished respecting almsgiving, ii. 90\n\nPolitical judgments, moral standard of most men in, lower than in private\n            judgments, i. 151\n\nPolitical truth, or habit of \u201cfair play,\u201d the characteristic of free\n            communities, i. 139.\n  Highly civilised form of society to which it belongs, 139.\n  Its growth retarded by the opposition of theologians, 140\n\nPolybius, his praise of the devotion and purity of creed of the Romans, i.\n            167\n\nPolycarp, St., martyrdom of, i. 441\n\nPolygamy, long continuance of, among the kings of Gaul, ii. 343\n\nPompeii, gladiatorial shows at, i. 276, _note_\n\nPompey, his destruction of the pirates, i. 234.\n  His multiplication of gladiatorial shows, 273\n\nPoor-law system, elaboration of the, ii. 96.\n  Its pernicious results, 97, 99, 105\n\nPopp\u00e6a, Empress, a Jewish proselyte, i. 386\n\nPorcia, heroism of, ii. 309\n\nPorphyry, his condemnation of suicides, i. 214.\n  His description of philosophy, i. 326.\n  His adoption of Neoplatonism, i. 330\n\nPossevin, his exposure of the Sibylline books, i. 377\n\nPothinus, martyrdom of, i. 442\n\nPower, origin of the desire of, i. 23, 26\n\nPraise, association of ideas leading to the desire for even posthumous, i.\n            26\n\nPrayer, reflex influence upon the minds of the worshippers, i. 36\n\nPreachers, Stoic, among the Romans, i. 308, 309\n\nPride, contrasted with vanity, i. 195.\n  The leading moral agent of Stoicism, i. 195\n\nPrometheus, cause of the admiration bestowed upon, i. 35\n\nProphecies, incapacity of the Christians of the third century for judging\n            prophecies, i. 376\n\nProphecy, gift of, attributed to the vestal virgins of Rome, i. 107.\n  And in India to virgins, 107, _note_\n\nProsperity, some crimes conducive to national, i. 58\n\nProstitution, ii. 282-286.\n  How regarded by the Romans, 314\n\nProtagoras, his scepticism, i. 162\n\nProtasius, St., miraculous discovery of his remains, i. 379\n\nPrudentius, on the vestal virgins at the gladiatorial shows, i. 291\n\nPurgatory, doctrine of, ii. 232-235\n\nPythagoras, sayings of, i. 53.\n  Chastity the leading virtue of his school, 106.\n  On the fables of Hesiod and Homer, 161.\n  His belief in an all-pervading soul of nature, 162.\n  His condemnation of suicide, 212.\n  Tradition of his journey to India, 229, _note_.\n  His inculcation of the practice of self-examination, 248.\n  His opinion of earthquakes, 369.\n  His doctrine of kindness to animals, ii. 165\n\nQuakers, compared with the early Christians, ii. 12, and _note_\n\nQuintilian, his conception of the Deity, i. 164\n\nRank, secular, consecration of, ii. 260, _et seq_\n\nRape, punishment for, ii. 316\n\nRedbreast, legend of the, ii. 224, _note_\n\nRegulus, the story of, i. 212\n\nReid, basis of his ethics, i. 76.\n  His distinction between innate faculties evolved by experience and\n              innate ideas independent of experience, 121, _note_\n\nReligion, theological utilitarianism subverts natural, i. 54-56.\n  Answer of the oracle of Delphi as to the best, 167.\n  Difference between the moral teaching of a philosophy and that of a\n              religion, ii. 1.\n  Relations between positive religion and moral enthusiasm, 141\n\nReligions, pagan, their small influence on morals, i. 161.\n  Oriental, passion for, among the Romans, 318\n\nReligious liberty totally destroyed by the Catholics, ii. 194-199\n\nRepentance for past sin, no place for, in the writings of the ancients, i.\n            195\n\nReputation, how valued among the Romans, i. 185, 186\n\nResurrection of souls, belief of the Stoics in the, i. 164\n\nRevenge, Utilitarian notions as to the feeling of, i. 41, and _note_.\n  Circumstances under which private vengeance is not regarded as criminal,\n              i. 101\n\nReverence, Utilitarian views of, i. 9, and _note_.\n  Causes of the diminution of the spirit of, among mankind, 141, 142\n\nRhetoricians, Stoical, account of the, of Rome, i. 310\n\nRicci, his work on Mendicancy, ii. 98\n\nRochefoucauld La, on pity, quoted, i. 10, _note_.\n  And on friendship, 10, 11, _note_\n\nRogantianus, his passive life, i. 330\n\nRoman law, its golden age not Christian, but pagan, ii. 42\n\nRomans, abortion how regarded by the, i. 92.\n  Their law forbidding women to taste wine, 93, 94, _note_.\n  Reasons why they did not regard the gladiatorial shows as criminal, 101.\n  Their law of marriage and ideal of female morality, 104.\n  Their religious reverence for domesticity, 106.\n  Sanctity of, and gifts attributed to, their vestal virgins, 106.\n  Character of their cruelty, 134.\n  Compared with the modern Italian character in this respect, 134.\n  Scepticism of their philosophers, 162-167.\n  The religion of the Romans never a source of moral enthusiasm, 167.\n  Its characteristics, 168.\n  Causes of the disappearance of the religious reverence of the people,\n              169.\n  Efforts of some philosophers and emperors to restore the moral influence\n              of religion, 169.\n  Consummation of Roman degradation, 170.\n  Belief in astrological fatalism, 170, 171.\n  The stoical type of military and patriotic enthusiasm pre-eminently\n              Roman, 172-174, 178.\n  Importance of biography in their moral teaching, 178.\n  Epicureanism never became a school of virtue among them, 175.\n  Unselfish love of country of the Romans, 178.\n  Character of Stoicism in the worst period of the Roman Empire, 181.\n  Main features of their philosophy, 185, _et seq._\n  Difference between the Roman moralists and the Greek poets, 195.\n  The doctrine of suicide the culminating point of Roman Stoicism, 222.\n  The type of excellence of the Roman people, 224, 225.\n  Contrast between the activity of Stoicism and the luxury of Roman\n              society, 225, 226.\n  Growth of a gentler and more cosmopolitan spirit in Rome, 227.\n  Causes of this change, 228, _et seq._\n  Extent of Greek influence at Rome, 228.\n  The cosmopolitan spirit strengthened by the destruction of the power of\n              the aristocracy, 231, 232.\n  History of the influence of freedmen in the state, 233.\n  Effect of the aggrandisement of the colonies, the attraction of many\n              foreigners to Rome, and the increased facilities for\n              travelling, on the cosmopolitan spirit, 233, _et seq._\n  Foreigners among the most prominent of Latin writers, 235.\n  Results of the multitudes of emancipated slaves, 235, 236.\n  Endeavours of Roman statesmen to consolidate the empire by admitting the\n              conquered to the privileges of the conquerors, 238.\n  The Stoical philosophy quite capable of representing the cosmopolitan\n              spirit, 239.\n  Influence of eclectic philosophy on the Roman Stoics, 244.\n  Life and character of Marcus Aurelius, 249-255.\n  Corruption of the Roman people, 255.\n  Causes of their depravity, 256.\n  Decadence of all the conditions of republican virtue, 256.\n  Effects of the Imperial system on morals, 257-261.\n  Apotheosis of the emperors, 257.\n  Moral consequences of slavery, 262.\n  Increase of idleness and demoralising employments, 262.\n  Increase also of sensuality, 263.\n  Destruction of all public spirit, 264.\n  The interaction of many states which in new nations sustains national\n              life prevented by universal empire, 264.\n  The decline of agricultural pursuits, 265.\n  And of the military virtues, 268.\n  History and effects of the gladiatorial shows, 271.\n  Other Roman amusements, 276.\n  Effects of the arena upon the theatre, 277.\n  Nobles in the arena, 283.\n  Effects of Stoicism on the corruption of society, 291.\n  Roman law greatly extended by it, 294.\n  Change in the relation of Romans to provincials, 297.\n  Changes in domestic legislation, 297.\n  Roman slavery, 300-308.\n  The Stoics as consolers, advisers, and preachers, 308.\n  The Cynics and rhetoricians, 309, 310.\n  Decadence of Stoicism in the empire, 317.\n  Causes of the passion for Oriental religions, 318-320.\n  Neoplatonism, 325.\n  Review of the history of Roman philosophy, 332-335.\n  History of the conversion of Rome to Christianity, 336.\n  State of Roman opinion on the subject of miracles, 365.\n  Progress of the Jewish and Oriental religions in Rome, 386, 387.\n  The conversion of the Roman empire easily explicable, 393.\n  Review of the religious policy of Rome, 397.\n  Its division of religion into three parts, according to Eusebius, 403.\n  Persecutions of the Christians, 406, _et seq._\n  Antipathy of the Romans to every religious system which employed\n              religious terrorism, 420.\n  History of the persecutions, 429.\n  General sketch of the moral condition of the Western Empire, ii. 14.\n  Rise and progress of the government of the Church of Rome, 14, 15.\n  Roman practice of infanticide, 27.\n  Relief of the indigent, 73.\n  Distribution of corn, 74.\n  Exertions of the Christians on the subversion of the empire, 82.\n  Inadequate place given to this movement, 85.\n  Horrors caused by the barbarian invasions prevented to some extent by\n              Christian charity, 81-84.\n  Influence of Christianity in hastening the fall of the empire, 140, 141.\n  Roman treatment of prisoners of war, 256-258.\n  Despotism of the pagan empire, 260.\n  Condition of women under the Romans, 297.\n  Their concubines, 350\n\nRome, an illustration of crimes conducive to national prosperity, i. 58,\n            _note_.\n  Conversion of, 336.\n  Three popular errors concerning its conversion, 339.\n  Capture of the city by the barbarians, ii. 82\n\nRomuald, St., his treatment of his father, ii. 135\n\nRope-dancing of the Romans, i. 291\n\nSabinus, Saint, his penances, ii. 108\n\nSacrament, administration of the, in the early Church, ii. 6\n\nSalamis, Brutus\u2019 treatment of the citizens of, i. 194\n\nSallust, his stoicism and rapacity, i. 194\n\nSanctuary, right of, accorded to Christian churches, ii. 40\n\nSavage, errors into which the deceptive appearances of nature doom him, i.\n            54.\n  First conceptions formed of the universe, 349.\n  The ethics of savages, 120, 121\n\nScepticism of the Greek and Roman philosophers, i. 162-166.\n  Influence of, on intellectual progress, ii. 193\n\nScholastica, St., the legend of, ii. 136, _note_\n\nScifi, Clara, the first Franciscan nun, ii. 135\n\nSectarian animosity, chief cause of, i. 134\n\nSedgwick, Professor, on the expansion of the natural or innate powers of\n            men, i. 121, _note_\n\nSejanus, treatment of his daughter by the senate, i. 107, _note_\n\nSelf-denial, the Utilitarian theory unfavourable to, i. 66\n\nSelf-examination, history of the practice of, i. 247-249\n\nSelf-sacrifice, asceticism the great school of, ii. 155\n\nSeneca, his conception of the Deity, i. 163, _note_, 164.\n  His distinction between the affections and diseases, 189, _note_.\n  And between clemency and pity, 189.\n  His virtues and vices, i. 194.\n  On the natural virtue of man and power of his will, 197.\n  On the Sacred Spirit dwelling in man, 198.\n  On death, 205.\n  His tranquil end, 207.\n  Advocates suicide, 213, 220.\n  His description of the self-destruction of a friend, 222.\n  His remarks on universal brotherhood, 241.\n  His stoical hardness tempered by new doctrines, 244.\n  His practice of self-examination, 248.\n  His philosophy and works compared with those of Plutarch, 243, 244.\n  How he regarded the games of the arena, 286.\n  His exhortations on the treatment of slaves, 306.\n  Never mentions Christianity, 336.\n  Regarded in the middle ages as a Christian, 340.\n  On religious beliefs, 405\n\nSensuality, why the Mohammedans people Paradise with images of, i. 108.\n  Why some pagans deified it, 108.\n  Fallacy of judging the sensuality of a nation by the statistics of its\n              illegitimate births, 144.\n  Influence of climate upon public morals, 144.\n  Of large towns, 145.\n  And of early marriages, 146.\n  Absence of moral scandals among the Irish priesthood, 146, 147.\n  Speech of Archytas of Tarentum on the evils of, 200, _note_.\n  Increase of sensuality in Rome, 263.\n  Abated by Christianity, ii. 153.\n  The doctrine of the Fathers respecting concupiscence, 281.\n\nSerapion, the anthropomorphite, i. 52.\n  Number of his monks, ii. 105.\n  His interview with the courtesan, 320\n\nSertorius, his forgery of auspicious omens, i. 166.\n\nSeverus, Alexander, refuses the language of adulation, i. 259.\n  His efforts to restore agricultural pursuits, 267.\n  Murder of, 444.\n  His leniency towards Christianity, 444.\n  His benevolence, ii. 77\n\nSeverus, Cassius, exile of, i. 448, _note_\n\nSeverus, Septimus, his treatment of the Christians, i. 443\n\nSextius, his practice of self-examination, i. 248\n\nShaftesbury, maintains the reality of the existence of benevolence in our\n            nature, i. 20.\n  On virtue, 76, 77\n\nSibylline books, forged by the early Christians, i. 376, 377\n\nSilius Italicus, his lines commemorating the passion of the Spanish Celts\n            for suicide, i. 207, _note_.\n  His self-destruction, 221\n\nSilvia, her filthiness, ii. 110\n\nSimeon, Bishop of Jerusalem, his martyrdom, i. 438\n\nSimeon Stylites, St., his penance, ii. 111.\n  His inhumanity to his parents, ii. 130\n\nSin, the theological doctrine on the subject, i. 111, 112.\n  Conception of sin by the ancients, 195.\n  Original, taught by the Catholic Church, 209, 210.\n  Examination of the Utilitarian doctrine of the remote consequences of\n              secret sins, 43, 44\n\nSisoes, the abbot, stories of, ii. 126, 127\n\nSixtus, Bishop of Rome, his martyrdom, i. 455\n\nSixtus V., Pope, his efforts to suppress mendicancy, ii. 97\n\nSlavery, circumstances under which it has been justified, i. 101.\n  Origin of the word servus, 102, _note_.\n  Crusade of England against, 153.\n  Character of that of the Romans, 235.\n  Moral consequence of slavery, 262.\n  Three stages of slavery at Rome, 300.\n  Review of the condition of slaves, 300-306.\n  Opinion of philosophers as to slavery, 306.\n  Laws enacted in favour of slaves, 306.\n  Effects of Christianity upon the institution of slavery, ii. 61.\n  Consecration of the servile virtue, 68.\n  Impulse given to manumission, 70.\n  Serfdom in Europe, 70, 71, _note_.\n  Extinction of slavery in Europe, 71.\n  Ransom of captives, 72\n\nSmith, Adam, his theory of pity, quoted, i. 10, _note_.\n  His recognition of the reality of benevolence in our nature, 20.\n  His analysis of moral judgment, 76\n\nSmyrna, persecution of the Christians at, i. 441\n\nSocrates, his view of death, i. 205.\n  His closing hours, 207.\n  His advice to a courtesan, ii. 296\n\nSoul, the immortality of the, resolutely excluded from the teaching of the\n            Stoics, i. 181.\n  Character of their first notions on the subject, 182.\n  The belief in the reabsorption of the soul in the parent Spirit, 183.\n  Belief of Cicero and Plutarch in the immortality of the, 204.\n  But never adopted as a motive by the Stoics, 204.\n  Increasing belief in the, 331.\n  Vague belief of the Romans in the, 168\n\nSospitra, story of, i. 373\n\nSpain, persecution of the Christians in, i. 461.\n  Almost complete absence of infanticide in, ii. 25, _note_.\n  The first lunatic asylums in Europe established in, 89, 90\n\nSpaniards, among the most prominent of Latin writers, i. 235.\n  Their suicides, ii. 54\n\nSpartans, their intense patriotism, i. 178.\n  Their legislature continually extolled as a model, 201.\n  Condition of their women, ii. 290\n\nSpinoza, his remark on death, i. 203\n  Anecdote of him, 289\n\nSta\u00ebl, Madame de, on suicide, ii. 59\n\nStatius, on the first night of marriage, i. 107, _note_\n\nStewart, Dugald, on the pleasures of virtue, i. 32, _note_\n\nStilpo, his scepticism and banishment, i. 162.\n  His remark on his ruin, 191.\n\nStoics, their definition of conscience, i. 83.\n  Their view of the animation of the human f\u0153tus, 92.\n  Their system of ethics favourable to the heroic qualities, 128.\n  Historical fact in favour of the system, 128.\n  Their belief in an all-pervading soul of nature, 162.\n  Their pantheistic conception of the Deity, 163.\n  Their conception and explanation of the prevailing legends of the gods,\n              163.\n  Their opinion as to the final destruction of the universe by fire, and\n              the resuscitation of souls, 164.\n  Their refusal to consult the oracles, 165.\n  Stoicism the expression of a type of character different from\n              Epicureanism, 172.\n  Rome pre-eminently the home of Stoicism, 172.\n  Account of the philosophy of the Stoics, 177.\n  Its two essentials\u2014the unselfish ideal and the subjugation of the\n              affections to the reason, 177.\n  The best example of the perfect severance of virtue and interest, 181.\n  Their views concerning the immortality of the soul, 182-184.\n  Taught men to sacrifice reputation, and do good in secret, 186.\n  And distinguished the obligation from the attraction of virtue, 186.\n  Taught also that the affections must be subordinate to the reason,\n              187-191.\n  Their false estimate of human nature, 192.\n  Their love of paradox, 192.\n  Imperfect lives of many eminent Stoics, 193.\n  Their retrospective tendencies, 193.\n  Their system unfitted for the majority of mankind, 194.\n  Compared with the religious principle, 195.\n  The central composition of this philosophy, the dignity of man, 195.\n  High sense of the Stoics of the natural virtue of man, and of the power\n              of his will, 195, 196.\n  Their recognition of Providence, 196.\n  The two aspects under which they worshipped God, 198.\n  The Stoics secured from quietism by their habits of public life,\n              199-201.\n  Their view of humanity, 202.\n  Their preparations for, and view of, death, 202.\n  Their teaching as to suicide, 212, 213, _et seq._\n  Contrast between Stoicism and Roman luxury, 225, 226.\n  The Stoical philosophy quite capable of representing the cosmopolitan\n              spirit, 239, 240.\n  Stoicism not capable of representing the softening movement of\n              civilisation, 241.\n  Influence of the eclectic spirit on it, 244.\n  Stoicism becomes more essentially religious, 245.\n  Increasingly introspective character of later Stoicism, 247.\n  Marcus Aurelius the best example of later Stoicism, 249-255.\n  Effects of Stoicism on the corruption of Roman Society, 291, 292.\n  It raised up many good Emperors, 292.\n  It produced a noble opposition under the worst Emperors, 293.\n  It greatly extended Roman law, 294.\n  The Stoics considered as the consolers of the suffering, advisers of the\n              young, and as popular preachers, 308.\n  Rapid decadence of Stoicism, 317, 318.\n  Difference between the Stoical and Egyptian pantheism, 324.\n  Stoical naturalism superseded by the theory of d\u00e6mons, 331.\n  Theory that the writings of the Stoics were influenced by Christianity\n              examined, 332.\n  Domitian\u2019s persecution of them, 432\n\nStrozzi, Philip, his suicide, ii. 56\n\nSuffering, a courageous endurance of, probably the first form of virtue in\n            savage life, i. 130\n\nSuicide, attitude adopted by Pagan philosophy and Catholicism towards, i.\n            211, _et seq._\n  Eminent suicides, 215.\n  Epidemic of suicides at Alexandria, 216.\n  And of girls at Miletus, 216, _note_.\n  Grandeur of the Stoical ideal of suicide, 216.\n  Influences conspiring towards suicide, 217.\n  Seneca on self-destruction, 217, 218, 220.\n  Laws respecting it, 218, _note_.\n  Eminent instances of self-destruction, 219, 221.\n  The conception of, as an euthanasia, 221.\n  Neoplatonist doctrine concerning, 331.\n  Effect of the Christian condemnation of the practice of, ii. 43-61.\n  Theological doctrine on, 45, _note_.\n  The only form of, permitted in the early Church, 47.\n  Slow suicides, 48.\n  The Circumcelliones, 49.\n  The Albigenses, 49.\n  Suicides of the Jews, 50.\n  Treatment of corpses of suicides, 50.\n  Authorities for the history of suicides, 50, _note_.\n  Reaction against the medi\u00e6val laws on the subject, 51.\n  Later phases of its history, 54.\n  Self-destruction of witches, 54.\n  Epidemics of insane suicide, 55.\n  Cases of legitimate suicide, 55.\n  Suicide in England and France, 58\n\nSunday, importance of the sanctity of the, ii. 244.\n  Laws respecting it, 245\n\nSuperstition, possibility of adding to the happiness of man by the\n            diffusion of, i. 50-53.\n  Natural causes which impel savages to superstition, i. 55.\n  Signification of the Greek word for, 205\n\nSwan, the, consecrated to Apollo, i. 206\n\nSweden, cause of the great number of illegitimate births in, i. 144\n\nSwinburne, Mr., on annihilation, i. 182, _note_\n\nSymmachus, his Saxon prisoners, i. 287\n\nSynesius, legend of him and Evagrius, ii. 214.\n  Refuses to give up his wife, 332\n\nSyracuse, gladiatorial shows at, i. 275\n\nTacitus, his doubts about the existence of Providence, i. 171, _note_\n\nTelemachus, the monk, his death in the arena, ii. 37\n\nTelesphorus, martyrdom of, i. 446, _note_\n\nTertia \u00c6milia, story of, ii. 313\n\nTertullian, his belief in d\u00e6mons, i. 382.\n  And challenge to the Pagans, 383\n\nTestament, Old, supposed to have been the source of pagan writings, i. 344\n\nThalasius, his hospital for blind beggars, ii. 81\n\nTheatre, scepticism of the Romans extended by the, i. 170.\n  Effects of the gladiatorial shows upon the, 277\n\nTheft, reasons why some savages do not regard it as criminal, i. 102.\n  Spartan law legalising it, 102\n\nTheodebert, his polygamy, ii. 343\n\nTheodoric, his court at Ravenna, ii. 201, 202, _note_\n\nTheodorus, his denial of the existence of the gods, i. 162\n\nTheodorus, St., his inhumanity to his mother, ii. 128\n\nTheodosius the Emperor, his edict forbidding gladiatorial shows, ii. 36.\n  Denounced by the Ascetics, 139.\n  His law respecting Sunday, 245\n\nTheological utilitarianism, theories of, i. 14-17\n\nTheology, sphere of inductive reasoning in, 357\n\nTheon, St., legend of, and the wild beasts, ii. 168\n\nTheurgy rejected by Plotinus, i. 330.\n  All moral discipline resolved into, by Iamblichus, 330\n\nThrace, celibacy of societies of men in, i. 106\n\nThrasea, mildness of his Stoicism, i. 245\n\nThrasea and Aria, history of, ii. 311\n\nThriftiness created by the industrial spirit, i. 140\n\nTiberius the Emperor, his images invested with a sacred character, i. 260.\n  His superstitions, 367, and _note_\n\nTimagenes, exiled from the palace by Tiberius, i. 448, _note_\n\nTitus, the Emperor, his tranquil end, i. 207.\n  Instance of his amiability, 287\n\nTooth-powder, Apuleius\u2019 defence of, ii. 148\n\nTorments, future, the doctrine of, made by the monks a means of extorting\n            money, ii. 216.\n  Monastic legends of, 220\n\nTragedy, effects of the gladiatorial shows upon, among the Romans, i. 277\n\nTrajan, the Emperor, his gladiatorial shows, i. 287.\n  Letter of Pliny to, respecting the Christians, 437.\n  Trajan\u2019s answer, 437.\n  His benevolence to children, ii. 77.\n  Legend of St. Gregory and the Emperor, 223\n\nTransmigration of souls, doctrine of, of the ancients, ii. 166\n\nTravelling, increased facilities for, of the Romans, i. 234\n\nTrinitarian monks, their works of mercy, ii. 73\n\nTroubadours, one of their services to mankind, ii. 232\n\n\u2019Truce of God,\u2019 importance of the, ii. 254\n\nTruth, possibility of adding to the happiness of men by diffusing abroad,\n            or sustaining, pleasing falsehoods, i. 52.\n  Saying of Pythagoras, 53.\n  Growth of, with civilisation, 137.\n  Industrial, political, and philosophical, 137-140.\n  Relation of monachism to the abstract love of truth, ii. 189.\n  Causes of the medi\u00e6val decline of the love of truth, 212\n\nTucker, his adoption of the doctrine of the association of ideas, i. 25,\n            _note_\n\nTurks, their kindness to animals, i. 289\n\nTypes, moral, i. 156.\n  All characters cannot be moulded in one type, 158\n\nUlpian on suicide, i. 218, _note_\n  Unselfishness of the Stoics, i. 177\n\nUsury, diversities of moral judgment respecting, i. 92\n\nUtilitarian school. _See_ Morals; Virtue; Vice\n\nUtility, rival claims of, and intuition to be regarded as the supreme\n            regulators of moral distinctions, i. 1, 2.\n  Various names by which the theory of utility is known, 3.\n  Views of the moralists of the school of, 3, _et seq._\n\nValerian, his persecutions of the Christians, i. 454\n\nValerius Maximus, his mode of moral teaching, i. 174\n\nVandals, their conquest of Africa, ii. 150\n\nVarro, his conception of the Deity, i. 163.\n  On popular religious beliefs, 167\n\nVenus, effect of the Greek worship of, on the condition of women, ii. 291,\n            _note_\n\nVespasian, his dying jest, i. 259.\n  Effect of his frugality on the habits of the Romans, 292.\n  Miracle attributed to him, 347.\n  His treatment of philosophers, 448, _note_\n\nVice, Mandeville\u2019s theory of the origin of, i. 7.\n  And that \u201cprivate vices were public benefits,\u201d 7.\n  Views of the Utilitarians as to, 12.\n  The degrees of virtue and vice do not correspond to the degrees of\n              utility, or the reverse, 40-42.\n  The suffering caused by vice not proportioned to its criminality, 57-59.\n  Plato\u2019s ethical theory of virtue and vice, 179.\n  Grote\u2019s summary of this theory, 179, _note_.\n  Conception of the ancients of sin, 195.\n  Moral efficacy of the Christian sense of sin, ii. 3, 4\n\nVirgil, his conception of the Deity, i. 163.\n  His epicurean sentiment, 193, _note_.\n  On suicide, 213.\n  His interest in animal life, ii. 165\n\nVirginity, how regarded by the Greeks, i. 105.\n  \u00c6schylus\u2019 prayer to Athene, 105.\n  Bees and fire emblems of virginity, 108, _note_.\n  Reason why the ancient Jews attached a certain stigma to virginity, 109.\n  Views of Essenes, 109\n\nVirgins, Vestal, sanctity and gifts attributed to the, i. 106, 107, and\n            _note_.\n  Executions of, 407, and _note_.\n  Reasons for burying them alive, ii. 41.\n  How regarded by the Romans, 297\n\nVirtue, Hume\u2019s theory of the criterion, essential element, and object of,\n            i. 4.\n  Motive to virtue according to the doctrine which bases morals upon\n              experience, 6.\n  Mandeville\u2019s the lowest and most repulsive form of this theory, 6, 7.\n  Views of the essence and origin of virtue adopted by the school of\n              Utilitarians, 7-9.\n  Views of the Utilitarians of, 12.\n  Association of ideas in which virtue becomes the supreme object of our\n              affections, 27.\n  Impossibility of virtue bringing pleasure if practised only with that\n              end, 35, 36.\n  The utility of virtue not denied by intuitive moralists, 39.\n  The degrees of virtue and vice do not correspond to the degrees of\n              utility, or the reverse, 53.\n  The rewards and punishments of conscience, 59, 60.\n  The self-complacency of virtuous men, 64, 65, and _note_.\n  The motive to virtue, according to Shaftesbury and Henry More, 76.\n  Analogies of beauty and virtue, 77.\n  Their difference, 78.\n  Diversities existing in our judgments of virtue and beauty, 79, 80.\n  Virtues to which we can and cannot apply the term beautiful, 82.\n  The standard, though not the essence, of virtue, determined by the\n              condition of society, 109.\n  Summary of the relations of virtue to public and private interest, 117.\n  Emphasis with which the utility of virtue was dwelt upon by Aristotle,\n              124.\n  Growth of the gentler virtues, 132.\n  Forms of the virtue of truth, industrial, political, and philosophical,\n              137.\n  Each stage of civilisation is specially appropriate to some virtue, 147.\n  National virtues, 151.\n  Virtues, naturally grouped together according to principles of affinity\n              or congruity, 153.\n  Distinctive beauty of a moral type, 154.\n  Rudimentary virtues differing in different ages, nations, and classes,\n              154, 155.\n  Four distinct motives leading men to virtue, 178-180.\n  Plato\u2019s fundamental proposition that vice is to virtue what disease is\n              to health, 179.\n  Stoicism the best example of the perfect severance of virtue and\n              self-interest, 181.\n  Teachings of the Stoics that virtue should conceal itself from the\n              world, 186.\n  And that the obligation should be distinguished from the attraction of\n              virtue, 186.\n  The eminent characteristics of pagan goodness, 190.\n  All virtues are the same, according to the Stoics, 192.\n  Horace\u2019s description of a just man, 197.\n  Interested and disinterested motives of Christianity to virtue, ii. 3.\n  Decline of the civic virtues caused by asceticism, 139.\n  Influence of this change on moral philosophy, 146.\n  The importance of the civic virtues exaggerated by historians, 147.\n  Intellectual virtues, 188.\n  Relation of monachism to these virtues, 189, _et seq._\n\nVitalius, St., legend of, and the courtesan, ii. 320\n\nVivisection, ii. 176.\n  Approved by Bacon, 176, _note_\n\nVolcanoes, how regarded by the early monks, ii. 221\n\nVultures, why made an emblem of nature by the Egyptians, i. 108, _note_\n\nWar, its moral grandeur, i. 95.\n  The school of the heroic virtues, 173.\n  Difference between foreign and civil wars, 232.\n  Antipathy of the early Christians to a military life, ii. 248.\n  Belief in battle being the special sphere of Providential interposition,\n              249.\n  Effects of the military triumphs of the Mohammedans, 251.\n  Influences of Christianity upon war considered, 254.\n  Improved condition of captives taken in war, 256\n\nWarburton, on morals, i. 15, _note_, 17, _note_\n\nWaterland, on the motives to virtue and cause of our love of God, quoted,\n            i. 9, _note_, 15, _note_\n\nWealth, origin of the desire to possess, i. 23.\n  Associations leading to the desire for, for its own sake, 25\n\nWestern Empire, general sketch of the moral condition of the, ii. 14\n\nWidows, care of the early Church for, ii. 366\n\nWill, freedom of the human, sustained and deepened by the ascetic life,\n            ii. 123\n\nWine, forbidden to women, i. 93, 94, _note_\n\nWitchcraft, belief in the reality of, i. 363.\n  Suicide common among witches, ii. 54\n\nWollaston, his analysis of moral judgments, i. 76\n\nWomen, law of the Romans forbidding women to taste wine, i. 93, 94,\n            _note_.\n  Standards of female morality of the Jews, Greeks, and Romans, 103, 104.\n  Virtues and vices growing out of the relations of the sexes, 143.\n  Female virtue, 143.\n  Effects of climate on this virtue, 144.\n  Of large towns, 146.\n  And of early marriages, 145.\n  Reason for Plato\u2019s advocacy of community of wives, 200.\n  Plutarch\u2019s high sense of female excellence, 244.\n  Female gladiators at Rome, 281, and _note_.\n  Relations of female devotees with the anchorites, ii. 120, 128, 150.\n  Their condition in savage life, 276.\n  Cessation of the sale of wives, 276.\n  Rise of the dowry, 277.\n  Establishment of monogamy, 278.\n  Doctrine of the Fathers as to concupiscence, 281.\n  Nature of the problem of the relations of the sexes, 282.\n  Prostitution, 282-284.\n  Recognition in Greece of two distinct orders of womanhood\u2014the wife and\n              the het\u00e6ra, 287.\n  Condition of Roman women, 297, _et seq._\n  Legal emancipation of women in Rome, 304.\n  Unbounded liberty of divorce, 306.\n  Amount of female virtue in Imperial Rome, 308-312.\n  Legislative measures to repress sensuality, 312.\n  To enforce the reciprocity of obligation in marriage, 312.\n  And to censure prostitution, 315.\n  Influence of Christianity on the position of women, 316, _et seq._\n  Marriages, 320.\n  Second marriages, 324.\n  Low opinion of women, produced by asceticism, 338.\n  The canon law unfavourable to their proprietary rights, 338, 339.\n  Barbarian heroines and laws, 341-344.\n  Doctrine of equality of obligation in marriage, 346.\n  The duty of man towards woman, 347.\n  Condemnation of transitory connections, 350.\n  Roman concubines, 351.\n  The sinfulness of divorce maintained by the Church, 350-353.\n  Abolition of compulsory marriages, 353.\n  Condemnation of mixed marriages, 353, 354.\n  Education of women, 355.\n  Relation of Christianity to the female virtues, 358.\n  Comparison of male and female characteristics, 358.\n  The Pagan and Christian ideal of woman contrasted, 361-363.\n  Conspicuous part of woman in the early Church, 363-365.\n  Care of widows, 367.\n  Worship of the Virgin, 368, 369.\n  Effect of the suppression of the conventual system on women, 369.\n  Revolution going on in the employments of women, 373\n\nXenocrates, his tenderness, ii. 163\n\nXenophanes, his scepticism, i. 162\n\nXenophon, his picture of Greek married life, ii. 288\n\nZadok, the founder of the Sadducees, i. 183, _note_\n\nZeno, vast place occupied by his system in the moral history of man, i.\n            171.\n  His suicide, 212.\n  His inculcation of the practice of self-examination, 248\n\nZeus, universal providence attributed by the Greeks to, i. 161\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n    1 There is a remarkable passage of Celsus, on the impossibility of\n      restoring a nature once thoroughly depraved, quoted by Origen in his\n      answer to him.\n\n    2 This is well shown by Pressens\u00e9 in his _Hist. des Trois premiers\n      Si\u00e8cles_.\n\n    3 See a great deal of information on this subject in Bingham\u2019s\n      _Antiquities of the Christian Church_ (Oxford, 1853), vol. v. pp.\n      370-378. It is curious that those very noisy contemporary divines\n      who profess to resuscitate the manners of the primitive Church, and\n      who lay so much stress on the minutest ceremonial observances, have\n      left unpractised what was undoubtedly one of the most universal, and\n      was believed to be one of the most important, of the institutions of\n      early Christianity. Bingham shows that the administration of the\n      Eucharist to infants continued in France till the twelfth century.\n\n    4 See Cave\u2019s _Primitive Christianity_, part i. ch. xi. At first the\n      Sacrament was usually received every day; but this custom soon\n      declined in the Eastern Church, and at last passed away in the West.\n\n    5 Plin. _Ep._ x. 97.\n\n    6 The whole subject of the penitential discipline is treated minutely\n      in Marshall\u2019s _Penitential Discipline of the Primitive Church_\n      (first published in 1714, and reprinted in the library of\n      Anglo-Catholic Theology), and also in Bingham, vol. vii. Tertullian\n      gives a graphic description of the public penances, _De Pudicit._ v.\n      13.\n\n    7 Eusebius, _H. E._ viii, 7.\n\n    8 St. Chrysostom tells this of St. Babylas. See Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. pour\n      servir \u00e0 l\u2019Hist. eccl._ tome iii. p. 403.\n\n    9 In the preface to a very ancient Milanese missal it is said of St.\n      Agatha that as she lay in the prison cell, torn by the instruments\n      of torture, St. Peter came to her in the form of a Christian\n      physician, and offered to dress her wounds; but she refused, saying\n      that she wished for no physician but Christ. St. Peter, in the name\n      of that Celestial Physician, commanded her wounds to close, and her\n      body became whole as before. (Tillemont, tome iii. p. 412.)\n\n   10 See her acts in Ruinart.\n\n   11 St. Jerome, _Ep._ xxxix.\n\n   12 \u201cDefinitio brevis et vera virtutis: ordo est amoris.\u201d\u2014_De Civ. Dei_,\n      xv. 22.\n\n   13 Besides the obvious points of resemblance in the common, though not\n      universal, belief that Christians should abstain from all weapons\n      and from all oaths, the whole teaching of the early Christians about\n      the duty of simplicity, and the wickedness of ornaments in dress\n      (see especially the writings of Tertullian, Clemens Alexandrinus,\n      and Chrysostom, on this subject), is exceedingly like that of the\n      Quakers. The scruple of Tertullian (_De Coron\u00e2_) about Christians\n      wearing laurel wreaths in the festivals, because laurel was called\n      after Daphne, the lover of Apollo, was much of the same kind as that\n      which led the Quakers to refuse to speak of Tuesday or Wednesday,\n      lest they should recognise the gods Tuesco or Woden. On the other\n      hand, the ecclesiastical aspects and the sacramental doctrines of\n      the Church were the extreme opposites of Quakerism.\n\n   14 See the masterly description of the relations of the English to the\n      Irish in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, in Froude\u2019s _History of\n      England_, ch. xxiv.; and also Lord Macaulay\u2019s description of the\n      feelings of the Master of Stair towards the Highlanders. (_History\n      of England_, ch. xviii.)\n\n   15 See on the views of Aristotle, Labourt, _Recherches historiques sur\n      les Enfanstrouv\u00e9s_ (Paris, 1848), p. 9.\n\n   16 See Gravina, _De Ortu et Progressu Juris Civilis_, lib. i. 44.\n\n   17 \u201cNunc uterum vitiat qu\u00e6 vult formosa videci,\n      Raraque in hoc \u00e6vo est, qu\u00e6 velit esse parens.\u201d\n\n      Ovid, _De Nuce_, 22-23.\n\n      The same writer has devoted one of his elegies (ii. 14) to\n      reproaching his mistress Corinna with having been guilty of this\n      act. It was not without danger, and Ovid says,\n\n      \u201cS\u00e6pe suos utero qu\u00e6 necit ipsa perit.\u201d\n\n      A niece of Domitian is said to have died in consequence of having,\n      at the command of the emperor, practised it (Sueton. _Domit._\n      xxii.). Plutarch notices the custom (_De Sanitate tuenda_), and\n      Seneca eulogises Helvia (_Ad Helv._ xvi.) for being exempt from\n      vanity and having never destroyed her unborn offspring. Favorinus,\n      in a remarkable passage (Aulus Gellius, _Noct. Att._ xii. 1), speaks\n      of the act as \u201cpublica detestatione communique odio dignum,\u201d and\n      proceeds to argue that it is only a degree less criminal for mothers\n      to put out their children to nurse. Juvenal has some well-known and\n      emphatic lines on the subject:\u2014\n\n      \u201cSed jacet aurato vix ulla puerpera lecto;\n      Tantum artes hujus, tantum medicamina possunt,\n      Qu\u00e6 steriles facit, atque homines in ventre necandos\n      Conducit.\u201d\n\n      _Sat._ vi. 592-595.\n\n      There are also many allusions to it in the Christian writers. Thus\n      Minucius Felix (_Octavius_, xxx.): \u201cVos enim video procreatos filios\n      nunc feris et avibus exponere, nunc adstrangulatos misero mortis\n      genere elidere. Sunt qu\u00e6 in ipsis visceribus, medicaminibus epotis,\n      originem futuri hominis extinguant, et parricidium faciant antequam\n      pariant.\u201d\n\n   18 See Labourt, _Recherches sur les Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, p. 25.\n\n   19 Among the barbarian laws there is a very curious one about a daily\n      compensation for children who had been killed in the womb on account\n      of the daily suffering of those children in hell. \u201cPropterea\n      diuturnam judicaverunt antecessores nostri compositionem et judices\n      postquam religio Christianitatis inolevit in mundo. Quia diuturnam\n      postquam incarnationem suscepit anima, quamvis ad nativitatis lucem\n      minima pervenisset, patitur p\u0153nam, quia sine sacramento\n      regenerationis abortivo modo tradita est ad inferos.\u201d\u2014_Leges\n      Bajuvariorum_, tit. vii. cap. xx. in Canciani, _Leges Barbar._ vol.\n      ii. p. 374. The first foundling hospital of which we have undoubted\n      record is that founded at Milan, by a man named Datheus, in A.D.\n      789. Muratori has preserved (_Antich. Ital._ Diss. xxxvii.) the\n      charter embodying the motives of the founder, in which the following\n      sentences occur: \u201cQuia frequenter per luxuriam hominum genus\n      decipitur, et exinde malum homicidii generatur, dum concipientes ex\n      adulterio, ne prodantur in publico, fetos teneros necant, _et absque\n      baptismatis lavacro parvulos ad Tartara mittunt_, quia nullum\n      reperiunt locum, quo servare vivos valeant,\u201d &c. Henry II. of\n      France, 1556, made a long law against women who, \u201cadvenant le temps\n      de leur part et d\u00e9livrance de leur enfant, occultement s\u2019en\n      d\u00e9livrent, puis le suffoquent et autrement suppriment _sans leur\n      avoir fait empartir le Saint Sacrement du Bapt\u00eame_.\u201d\u2014Labourt,\n      _Recherches sur les Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, p. 47. There is a story told of\n      a Queen of Portugal (sister to Henry V. of England, and mother of\n      St. Ferdinand) that, being in childbirth, her life was despaired of\n      unless she took a medicine which would accelerate the birth but\n      probably sacrifice the life of the child. She answered that \u201cshe\n      would not purchase her temporal life by sacrificing the eternal\n      salvation of her son.\u201d\u2014Bollandists, _Act. Sanctor._, June 5th.\n\n   20 Tillemont, _M\u00e9moires pour servir \u00e0 l\u2019Histoire eccl\u00e9siastique_\n      (Paris, 1701), tome x. p. 41. St. Clem. Alexand. says that infants\n      in the womb and exposed infants have guardian angels to watch over\n      them. (_Strom._ v.)\n\n   21 There is an extremely large literature devoted to the subject of\n      infanticide, exposition, foundlings, &c. The books I have chiefly\n      followed are Terme et Monfalcon, _Histoire des Enfans trouv\u00e9s_\n      (Paris, 1840); Remacle, _Des Hospices d\u2019Enfans trouv\u00e9s_ (1838);\n      Labourt, _Recherches historiques sur les Enfans trouv\u00e9s_ (Paris,\n      1848); K\u0153nigswarter, _Essai sur la L\u00e9gislation des Peuples anciens\n      et modernes relative aux Enfans n\u00e9s hors Mariage_ (Paris, 1842).\n      There are also many details on the subject in Godefroy\u2019s Commentary\n      to the laws about children in the Theodosian Code, in Malthus, _On\n      Population_, in Edward\u2019s tract _On the State of Slavery in the Early\n      and Middle Ages of Christianity_, and in most ecclesiastical\n      histories.\n\n   22 It must not; however, be inferred from this that infanticide\n      increases in direct proportion to the unchastity of a nation.\n      Probably the condition of civilised society in which it is most\n      common, is where a large amount of actual unchastity coexists with\n      very strong social condemnation of the sinner, and where, in\n      consequence, there is an intense anxiety to conceal the fall. A\n      recent writer on Spain has noticed the almost complete absence of\n      infanticide in that country, and has ascribed it to the great\n      leniency of public opinion towards female frailty. Foundling\n      hospitals, also, greatly influence the history of infanticide; but\n      the mortality in them was long so great that it may be questioned\n      whether they have diminished the number of the deaths, though they\n      have, as I believe, greatly diminished the number of the murders of\n      children. Lord Kames, writing in the last half of the eighteenth\n      century, says: \u201cIn Wales, even at present, and in the Highlands of\n      Scotland, it is scarce a disgrace for a young woman to have a\n      bastard. In the country last mentioned, the first instance known of\n      a bastard child being destroyed by its mother through shame is a\n      late one. The virtue of chastity appears to be thus gaining ground,\n      as the only temptation a woman can have to destroy her child is to\n      conceal her frailty.\u201d\u2014_Sketches of the History of Man\u2014On the\n      Progress of the Female Sex._ The last clause is clearly inaccurate,\n      but there seems reason for believing that maternal affection is\n      generally stronger than want, but weaker than shame.\n\n   23 See Warburton\u2019s _Divine Legation_, vii. 2.\n\n   24 \u00c6lian, _Varia Hist._ ii. 7. Passages from the Greek imaginative\n      writers, representing exposition as the avowed and habitual practice\n      of poor parents, are collected by Terme et Monfalcon, _Hist. des\n      Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, pp. 39-45. Tacitus notices with praise (_Germania_,\n      xix.) that the Germans did not allow infanticide. He also notices\n      (_Hist._ v. 5) the prohibition of infanticide among the Jews, and\n      ascribes it to their desire to increase the population.\n\n   25 Dion. Halic. ii.\n\n_   26 Ad Nat._ i. 15.\n\n   27 The well-known jurisconsult Paulus had laid down the proposition,\n      \u201cNecare videtur non tantum is qui partum perfocat sed et is qui\n      abjicit et qui alimonia denegat et qui publicis locis misericordi\u00e6\n      causa exponit quam ipse non habet.\u201d (_Dig._ lib. xxv. tit. iii. 1.\n      4.) These words have given rise to a famous controversy between two\n      Dutch professors, named Noodt and Bynkershoek, conducted on both\n      sides with great learning, and on the side of Noodt with great\n      passion. Noodt maintained that these words are simply the expression\n      of a moral truth, not a judicial decision, and that exposition was\n      never illegal in Rome till some time after the establishment of\n      Christianity. His opponent argued that exposition was legally\n      identical with infanticide, and became, therefore, illegal when the\n      power of life and death was withdrawn from the father. (See the\n      works of Noodt (Cologne, 1763) and of Bynkershoek (Cologne, 1761)).\n      It was at least certain that exposition was notorious and avowed,\n      and the law against it, if it existed, inoperative. Gibbon (_Decline\n      and Fall_, ch. xliv.) thinks the law censured but did not punish\n      exposition. See, too, Troplong, _Influence du Christianisme sur le\n      Droit_, p. 271.\n\n   28 Quintilian speaks in a tone of apology, if not justification, of the\n      exposition of the children of destitute parents (_Decl._ cccvi.),\n      and even Plutarch speaks of it without censure. (_De Amor. Prolis._)\n      There are several curious illustrations in Latin literature of the\n      different feelings of fathers and mothers on this matter. Terence\n      (_Heauton._ Act. iii. Scene 5) represents Chremes as having, as a\n      matter of course, charged his pregnant wife to have her child killed\n      provided it was a girl. The mother, overcome by pity, shrank from\n      doing so, and secretly gave it to an old woman to expose it, in\n      hopes that it might be preserved. Chremes, on hearing what had been\n      done, reproached his wife for her womanly pity, and told her she had\n      been not only disobedient but irrational, for she was only\n      consigning her daughter to the life of a prostitute. In Apuleius\n      (_Metam._ lib. x.) we have a similar picture of a father starting\n      for a journey, leaving his wife in childbirth, and giving her his\n      parting command to kill her child if it should be a girl, which she\n      could not bring herself to do. The girl was brought up secretly. In\n      the case of weak or deformed infants infanticide seems to have been\n      habitual. \u201cPortentosos f\u0153tus extinguimus, liberos quoque, si debiles\n      monstrosique editi sunt, mergimus. Non ira, sed ratio est, a sanis\n      inutilia secernere.\u201d\u2014Seneca, _De Ira_, i. 15. Terence has introduced\n      a picture of the exposition of an infant into his _Andria_, Act. iv.\n      Scene 5. See, too, Suet. _August._ lxv. According to Suetonius\n      (_Calig._ v.), on the death of Germanicus, women exposed their\n      new-born children in sign of grief. Ovid had dwelt with much feeling\n      on the barbarity of these practices. It is a very curious fact,\n      which has been noticed by Warburton, that Chremes, whose sentiments\n      about infants we have just seen, is the very personage into whose\n      mouth Terence has put the famous sentiment, \u201cHomo sum, humani nihil\n      a me alienum puto.\u201d\n\n   29 That these were the usual fates of exposed infants is noticed by\n      several writers. Some, too, both Pagan and Christian (Quintilian,\n      _Decl._ cccvi.; Lactantius, Div. Inst. vi. 20, &c.), speak of the\n      liability to incestuous marriages resulting from frequent\n      exposition. In the Greek poets there are several allusions to rich\n      childless men adopting foundlings, and Juvenal says it was common\n      for Roman wives to palm off foundlings on their husbands for their\n      sons. (_Sat._ vi. 603.) There is an extremely horrible declamation\n      in Seneca the Rhetorician (_Controvers._ lib. v. 33) about exposed\n      children who were said to have been maimed and mutilated, either to\n      prevent their recognition by their parents, or that they might gain\n      money as beggars for their masters.\n\n   30 See passages on this point cited by Godefroy in his _Commentary to\n      the Law __\u201c__De Expositis,__\u201d__ Codex Theod._ lib. v. tit. 7.\n\n_   31 Codex Theod._ lib. xi. tit. 27.\n\n_   32 Codex Theod._ lib. v. tit. 7, lex. 1.\n\n_   33 Ibid._ lib. v. tit. 8, lex 1.\n\n   34 See Godefroy\u2019s _Commentary to the Law_.\n\n   35 In a letter to the younger Pliny. (_Ep._ x. 72.)\n\n   36 See on this point Muratori, _Antich. Ital._ Diss. xxxvii.\n\n   37 See on these laws, Wallon, _Hist. de l\u2019Esclavage_, tome iii. pp. 52,\n      53.\n\n   38 See _Cod. Theod._ lib. iii. tit. 3, lex 1, and the Commentary.\n\n   39 On the very persistent denunciation of this practice by the Fathers,\n      see many examples in Terme et Monfalcon.\n\n   40 This is a mere question of definition, upon which lawyers have\n      expended much learning and discussion. Cujas thought the Romans\n      considered infanticide a crime, but a crime generically different\n      from homicide. Godefroy maintains that it was classified as\n      homicide, but that, being esteemed less heinous than the other forms\n      of homicide, it was only punished by exile. See the Commentary to\n      _Cod. Theod._ lib. ix. tit. 14, l. 1.\n\n_   41 Cod. Theod._ lib. ix. tit. 15.\n\n_   42 Ibid._ lib. ix. tit. 14, lex 1.\n\n_   43 Corp. Juris_, lib. viii. tit. 52, lex 2.\n\n_   44 Leges Wisigothorum_ (lib. vi. tit. 3, lex 7) and other laws (lib.\n      iv. tit. 4) condemned exposition.\n\n   45 \u201cSi quis infantem necaverit ut homicida teneatur.\u201d\u2014_Capit._ vii.\n      168.\n\n   46 It appears, from a passage of St. Augustine, that Christian virgins\n      were accustomed to collect exposed children and to have them brought\n      into the church. See Terme et Monfalcon, _Hist. des Enfans trouv\u00e9s_,\n      p. 74.\n\n   47 Compare Labourt, _Rech. sur les Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, pp. 32, 33;\n      Muratori, _Antichit\u00e0 Italiane_, Dissert. xxxvii. Muratori has also\n      briefly noticed the history of these charities in his _Carit\u00e0\n      Christiana_, cap. xxvii.\n\n   48 The first seems to have been the hospital of Sta. Maria in Sassia,\n      which had existed with various changes from the eighth century, but\n      was made a foundling hospital and confided to the care of Guy of\n      Montpellier in A.D. 1204. According to one tradition, Pope Innocent\n      III. had been shocked at hearing of infants drawn in the nets of\n      fishermen from the Tiber. According to another, he was inspired by\n      an angel. Compare Remacle, _Hospices d\u2019Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, pp. 36-37,\n      and Amydemus, _Pietas Romana_ (a book written A.D. 1624, and\n      translated in part into English in A.D. 1687), Eng. trans, pp. 2, 3.\n\n   49 For the little that is known about this missionary of charity,\n      compare Remacle, _Hospices d\u2019Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, pp. 34-44; and\n      Labourt, _Recherches historiques sur les Enfans trouv\u00e9s_, pp. 38-41.\n\n   50 E.g. the amphitheatre of Verona was only built under Diocletian.\n\n   51 \u201cQuid hoc triumpho pulchrius?... Tantam captivorum multitudinem\n      bestiis objicit ut ingrati et perfidi non minus doloris ex ludibrio\n      sui quam ex ipsa morte patiantur.\u201d\u2014Incerti, _Panegyricus Constant_.\n      \u201cPuberes qui in manus venerunt, quorum nec perfidia erat apta\n      militi\u00e6 nec ferocia servituti ad p\u0153nas spectaculo dati s\u00e6vientes\n      bestias multitudine sua fatigarunt.\u201d\u2014Eumenius, _Paneg. Constant._\n      xi.\n\n_   52 Cod. Theod._ lib. xv. tit. 12, lex 1. Sozomen, i. 8.\n\n   53 This, at least, is the opinion of Godefroy, who has discussed the\n      subject very fully. (_Cod. Theod._ lib. xv. tit. 12.)\n\n   54 Libanius, _De Vita Sua_, 3.\n\n_   55 Cod. Theod._ lib. xv. tit. 12, l. 2.\n\n   56 Ibid. lib. ix. tit. 40, l. 8.\n\n   57 Ibid. lib. ix. tit. 40, l. 11.\n\n   58 Ibid. lib. xv. tit. 12, l. 3.\n\n   59 Symmach. _Ex._ x. 61.\n\n   60 M. Wallon has traced these last shows with much learning. (_Hist. de\n      l\u2019Esclavage_, tome iii. pp. 421-429.)\n\n   61 He wavered, however, on the subject, and on one occasion condemned\n      them. See Wallon, tome iii. p. 423.\n\n   62 Theodoret, v. 26.\n\n   63 Muller, _De Genio \u00c6vi Theodosiani_ (1797), vol. ii. p. 88; Milman,\n      _Hist. of Early Christianity_, vol. iii. pp. 343-347.\n\n   64 See on these fights Ozanam\u2019s _Civilisation in the Fifth Century_\n      (Eng. trans.), vol. i. p. 130.\n\n   65 Nieupoort, _De Ritibus Romanorum_, p. 169.\n\n   66 See a very unequivocal passage, _Inst. Div._ vi. 20. Several earlier\n      testimonies on the subject are given by Barbeyrac, _Morale des\n      P\u00e8res_, and in many other books.\n\n   67 See two laws enacted in A.D. 380 (_Cod. Theod._ ix. tit. 35, l. 4)\n      and A.D. 389 (_Cod. Theod._ ix. tit. 35, l. 5). Theodosius the\n      Younger made a law (ix. tit. 35, l. 7) excepting the Isaurian\n      robbers from the privileges of these laws.\n\n   68 There are, of course, innumerable miracles punishing guilty men, but\n      I know none assisting the civil power in doing so. As an example of\n      the miracles in defence of the innocent, I may cite one by St.\n      Macarius. An innocent man, accused of a murder, fled to him. He\n      brought both the accused and accusers to the tomb of the murdered\n      man, and asked him whether the prisoner was the murderer. The corpse\n      answered in the negative; the bystanders implored St. Macarius to\n      ask it to reveal the real culprit; but St. Macarius refused to do\n      so. (_Vit\u00e6 Patrum_, lib. ii. cap. xxviii.)\n\n   69 \u201cUt quam clementissime et ultra sanguinis effusionem puniretur.\u201d\n\n_   70 Qu\u00e6st\u0153. Roman\u00e6_, xcvi.\n\n   71 Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. d\u2019Hist. eccl\u00e9s_. tome vi. pp. 88-98. The Donatists\n      after a time, however, are said to have overcome their scruples, and\n      used swords.\n\n   72 Under the Christian kings, the barbarians multiplied the number of\n      capital offences, but this has usually been regarded as an\n      improvement. The Abb\u00e9 Mably says: \u201cQuoiqu\u2019il nous reste peu\n      d\u2019ordonnances faites sous les premiers M\u00e9rovingiens, nous voyons\n      qu\u2019avant la fin du sixi\u00e8me si\u00e8cle, les Fran\u00e7ois avoient d\u00e9j\u00e0 adopt\u00e9\n      la doctrine salutaire des Romains au sujet de la prescription; et\n      que renon\u00e7ant \u00e0 cette humanit\u00e9 cruelle qui les enhardissoit au mal,\n      ils inflig\u00e8rent peine de mort contre l\u2019inceste, le vol et le meurtre\n      qui jusques-l\u00e0 n\u2019avoient \u00e9t\u00e9 punis que par l\u2019exil, ou dont on se\n      rachetoit par une composition. Les Fran\u00e7ois, en r\u00e9formant\n      quelques-unes de leurs lois civiles, port\u00e8rent la s\u00e9v\u00e9rit\u00e9 aussi\n      loin que leurs p\u00e8res avoient pouss\u00e9 l\u2019indulgence.\u201d\u2014Mably, _Observ.\n      sur l\u2019Hist. des Fran\u00e7ois_, liv. i. ch. iii. See, too, Gibbon\u2019s\n      _Decline and Fall_, ch. xxxviii.\n\n   73 The whole of the sixth volume of Godefroy\u2019s edition (folio) of the\n      Theodosian code is taken up with laws of these kinds.\n\n   74 Mme. de Sta\u00ebl, _R\u00e9flexions sur le Suicide_.\n\n   75 The following became the theological doctrine on the subject: \u201cEst\n      vere homicida et reus homicidii qui se interficiendo innocentum\n      hominem interfecerit.\u201d\u2014Lisle, _Du Suicide_, p. 400. St. Augustine\n      has much in this strain. Lucretia, he says, either consented to the\n      act of Sextius, or she did not. In the first case she was an\n      adulteress, and should therefore not be admired. In the second case\n      she was a murderess, because in killing herself she killed an\n      innocent and virtuous woman. (_De Civ. Dei_, i. 19.)\n\n   76 Justin Martyr, Tertullian, and Cyprian are especially ardent in this\n      respect; but their language is, I think, in their circumstances,\n      extremely excusable. Compare Barbeyrac, _Morale des P\u00e8res_, ch. ii.\n      \u00a7 8; ch. viii. \u00a7\u00a7 34-39. Donne\u2019s _Biathanatos_ (ed. 1644), pp.\n      58-67. Cromaziano, _Istoria critica e filosofica del Suicidio\n      ragionato_ (Venezia, 1788), pp. 135-140.\n\n   77 Ambrose, _De Virginibus_, iii. 7.\n\n   78 Eusebius, _Eccles. Hist._ viii. 12.\n\n   79 Eusebius, _Eccles. Hist._ viii. 14. Bayle, in his article upon\n      Sophronia, appears to be greatly scandalised at this act, and it\n      seems that among the Catholics it is not considered right to admire\n      this poor lady as much as her sister suicides. Tillemont remarks:\n      \u201cComme on ne voit pas que l\u2019\u00e9glise romaine l\u2019ait jamais honor\u00e9e,\n      nous n\u2019avons pas le mesme droit de justifier son action.\u201d\u2014_Hist.\n      eccl\u00e9s._ tome v. pp. 404, 405.\n\n   80 Especially Barbeyrac in his _Morale des P\u00e8res_. He was answered by\n      Ceillier, Cromaziano, and others. Matthew of Westminster relates of\n      Ebba, the abbess of a Yorkshire convent which was besieged by the\n      Danes, that she and all the other nuns, to save their chastity,\n      deformed themselves by cutting off their noses and upper lips. (A.D.\n      870.)\n\n_   81 De Civ. Dei_, i. 22-7.\n\n   82 This had been suggested by St. Augustine. In the case of Pelagia,\n      Tillemont finds a strong argument in support of this view in the\n      astounding, if not miraculous, fact that, having thrown herself from\n      the top of the house, she was actually killed by the fall! \u201cEstant\n      mont\u00e9e tout au haut de sa maison, fortifi\u00e9e par le mouvement que\n      J.-C. formoit dans son c\u0153ur et par le courage qu\u2019il luy inspiroit,\n      elle se pr\u00e9cipita de l\u00e0 du haut en bas, et \u00e9chapa ainsi \u00e0 tous les\n      pi\u00e9ges de ses ennemis. Son corps en tombant \u00e0 terre frapa, dit S.\n      Chrysostome, les yeux du d\u00e9mon plus vivement qu\u2019un \u00e9clair.... Ce qui\n      marque encore que Dieu agissoit en tout ceci c\u2019est qu\u2019au lieu que\n      ces chutes ne sont pas toujours mortelles, ou que souvent ne brisant\n      que quelques membres, elles n\u2019ostent la vie que longtemps apr\u00e8s, ni\n      l\u2019un ni l\u2019autre n\u2019arriva en cette rencontre; mais Dieu retira\n      aussitost l\u2019\u00e2me de la sainte, en sorte que sa mort parut autant\n      l\u2019effet de la volont\u00e9 divine que de sa chute.\u201d\u2014_Hist. eccl\u00e9s._ tome\n      v. pp. 401-402.\n\n   83 \u201cEt virginitatis coronam et nuptiarum perdidit voluptatem.\u201d\u2014_Ep._\n      xxii.\n\n   84 \u201cQuis enim siccis oculis recordetur viginti annorum adolescentulam\n      tam ardenti fide crucis levasse vexillum ut magis amissam\n      virginitatem quam mariti doleret interitum?\u201d\u2014_Ep._ xxxix.\n\n   85 For a description of these penances, see _Ep._ xxxviii.\n\n_   86 Ep._ xxxix.\n\n   87 St. Jerome gave some sensible advice on this point to one of his\n      admirers. (_Ep._ cxxv.)\n\n   88 Hase, _St. Fran\u00e7ois d\u2019Assise_, pp. 137-138. St. Pal\u00e6mon is said to\n      have died of his austerities. (_Vit. S. Pachomii._)\n\n   89 St. Augustine and St. Optatus have given accounts of these suicides\n      in their works against the Donatists.\n\n   90 See Todd\u2019s _Life of St. Patrick_, p. 462.\n\n   91 The whole history of suicide in the dark ages has been most minutely\n      and carefully examined by M. Bourquelot, in a very interesting\n      series of memoirs in the third and fourth volumes of the\n      _Biblioth\u00e8que de l\u2019\u00c9cole des Chartes_. I am much indebted to these\n      memoirs in the following pages. See, too, Lisle, _Du Suicide,\n      Statistique, M\u00e9decine, Histoire, et L\u00e9gislation_. (Paris, 1856.) The\n      ferocious laws here recounted contrast remarkably with a law in the\n      Capitularies (lib. vi. lex 70), which provides that though mass may\n      not be celebrated for a suicide, any private person may, through\n      charity, cause prayers to be offered up for his soul. \u201cQuia\n      incomprehensibilia sunt judicia Dei, et profunditatem consilii ejus\n      nemo potest investigare.\u201d\n\n   92 See the very interesting work of the Abb\u00e9 Bourret, _l\u2019\u00c9cole\n      chr\u00e9tienne de S\u00e9ville sous la monarchie des Visigoths_ (Paris,\n      1855), p. 196.\n\n   93 Roger of Wendover, A.D. 665.\n\n   94 Esquirol, _Maladies mentales_, tome i. p. 591.\n\n   95 Lea\u2019s _History of Sacerdotal Celibacy_ (Philadelphia, 1867), p. 248.\n\n   96 \u201cPer lo corso di molti secoli abbiamo questo solo suicidio donnesco,\n      e buona cosa \u00e8 non averne pi\u00f9 d\u2019uno; perch\u00e8 io non credo che la\n      impudicizia istessa sia peggiore di questa disperata\n      castit\u00e0.\u201d\u2014Cromaziano, _Ist. del. Suicidio_, p. 126. Mariana, who,\n      under the frock of a Jesuit, bore the heart of an ancient Roman,\n      treats the case in a very different manner. \u201cEjus uxor Maria\n      Coronelia cum mariti absentiam non ferret, ne pravis cupiditatibus\n      cederet, vitam posuit, ardentem forte libidinem igne extinguens\n      adacto per muliebria titione; dignam meliori seculo f\u0153minam, insigne\n      studium castitatis.\u201d\u2014_De Rebus Hispan._ xvi. 17.\n\n   97 A number of passages are cited by Bourquelot.\n\n   98 This is noticed by St. Gregory Nazianzen in a little poem which is\n      given in Migne\u2019s edition of _The Greek Fathers_, tome xxxvii. p.\n      1459. St. Nilus and the biographer of St. Pachomius speak of these\n      suicides, and St. Chrysostom wrote a letter of consolation to a\n      young monk, named Stagirius, which is still extant, encouraging him\n      to resist the temptation. See Neander, _Ecclesiastical Hist._ vol.\n      iii. pp. 319, 320.\n\n   99 Bourquelot. Pinel notices (_Trait\u00e9 m\u00e9dico-philosophique sur\n      l\u2019Ali\u00e9nation mentale_ (2nd ed.), pp. 44-46) the numerous cases of\n      insanity still produced by strong religious feeling; and the history\n      of the movements called \u201crevivals,\u201d in the present century, supplies\n      much evidence to the same effect. Pinel says, religious insanity\n      tends peculiarly to suicide (p. 265).\n\n  100 Orosius notices (_Hist._ v. 14) that of all the Gauls conquered by\n      Q. Marcius, there were none who did not prefer death to slavery. The\n      Spaniards were famous for their suicides, to avoid old age as well\n      as slavery. Odin, who, under different names, was the supreme\n      divinity of most of the Northern tribes, is said to have ended his\n      earthly life by suicide. Boadicea, the grandest figure of early\n      British history, and Cordeilla, or Cordelia, the most pathetic\n      figure of early British romance, were both suicides. (See on the\n      first, Tacitus, _Ann._ xiv. 35-37, and on the second Geoffrey of\n      Monmouth, ii. 15\u2014a version from which Shakspeare has considerably\n      diverged, but which is faithfully followed by Spenser. (_Fa\u00ebry\n      Queen_, book ii. canto 10.))\n\n  101 \u201cIn our age, when the Spaniards extended that law which was made\n      only against the cannibals, that they who would not accept the\n      Christian religion should incur bondage, the Indians in infinite\n      numbers escaped this by killing themselves, and never ceased till\n      the Spaniards, by some counterfeitings, made them think that they\n      also would kill themselves, and follow them with the same severity\n      into the next life.\u201d\u2014Donne\u2019s _Biathanatos_, p. 56 (ed. 1644). On the\n      evidence of the early travellers on this point, see the essay on\n      \u201cEngland\u2019s Forgotten Worthies,\u201d in Mr. Froude\u2019s _Short Studies_.\n\n  102 Lisle, pp. 427-434. Sprenger has noticed the same tendency among the\n      witches he tried. See Calmeil, _De la Folie_ (Paris, 1845), tome i.\n      pp. 161, 303-305.\n\n  103 On modern suicides the reader may consult Winslow\u2019s _Anatomy of\n      Suicide_; as well as the work of M. Lisle, and also Esquirol,\n      _Maladies mentales_ (Paris, 1838), tome i. pp. 526-676.\n\n  104 Hecker\u2019s _Epidemics of the Middle Ages_ (London, 1844), p. 121.\n      Hecker in his very curious essay on this mania, has preserved a\n      verse of their song:\u2014\n\n      \u201cAllu mari mi portati\n      Se voleti che mi sanati,\n      Allu mari, alla via,\n      Cos\u00ec m\u2019ama la donna mia,\n      Allu mari, allu mari,\n      Mentre campo, t\u2019aggio amari.\u201d\n\n  105 Cromaziano, _Ist. del Suicidio_ caps. viii, ix.\n\n  106 Cromaziano, pp. 92-93.\n\n  107 Montesquieu, and many Continental writers, have noticed this, and\n      most English writers of the eighteenth century seem to admit the\n      charge. There do not appear, however, to have been any accurate\n      statistics, and the general statements are very untrustworthy.\n      Suicides were supposed to be especially numerous under the\n      depressing influence of English winter fogs. The statistics made in\n      the present century prove beyond question that they are most\n      numerous in summer.\n\n_  108 Utopia_, book ii. ch. vi.\n\n  109 A sketch of his life, which was rather curious, is given by\n      Cromaziano, pp. 148-151. There is a long note on the early\n      literature in defence of suicide, in Dumas, _Trait\u00e9 du Suicide_\n      (Amsterdam, 1723), pp. 148-149. Dumas was a Protestant minister who\n      wrote against suicide. Among the English apologists for suicide\n      (which he himself committed) was Blount, the translator of the _Life\n      of Apollonius of Tyana_, and Creech, an editor of Lucretius.\n      Concerning the former there is a note in Bayle\u2019s _Dict._ art.\n      \u201cApollonius.\u201d The latter is noticed by Voltaire in his _Lettres\n      Philos._ He wrote as a memorandum on the margin of his \u201cLucretius,\u201d\n      \u201cN.B. When I have finished my Commentary I must kill myself;\u201d which\n      he accordingly did\u2014Voltaire says to imitate his favourite author.\n      (Voltaire, _Dict. phil._ art. \u201cCaton.\u201d)\n\n_  110 Essais_, liv. ii. ch. xiii.\n\n_  111 Lettres persanes_, lxxvi.\n\n_  112 Nouvelle H\u00e9lo\u00efse_, partie iii. let. 21-22. Esquirol gives a curious\n      illustration of the way the influence of Rousseau penetrated through\n      all classes. A little child of thirteen committed suicide, leaving a\n      writing beginning: \u201cJe l\u00e8gue mon \u00e2me a Rousseau, mon corps \u00e0 la\n      terre.\u201d\u2014_Maladies mentales_, tome i. p. 588.\n\n  113 In general, however, Voltaire was extremely opposed to the\n      philosophy of despair, but he certainly approved of some forms of\n      suicide. See the articles \u201cCaton\u201d and \u201cSuicide,\u201d in his _Dict.\n      philos._\n\n  114 Lisle, _Du Suicide_, pp. 411, 412.\n\n  115 \u201cLe monde est vide depuis les Romains.\u201d\u2014St.-Just, _Proc\u00e9s de\n      Danton_.\n\n  116 This fact has been often noticed. The reader may find many\n      statistics on the subject in Lisle, _Du Suicide_, and Winslow\u2019s\n      _Anatomy of Suicide_.\n\n  117 \u201cThere seems good reason to believe, that with the progress of\n      mental development through the ages, there is, as in the case with\n      other forms of organic development, a correlative degeneration going\n      on, and that an increase of insanity is a penalty which an increase\n      of our present civilisation necessarily pays.\u201d\u2014Maudsley\u2019s\n      _Physiology of Mind_, p. 201.\n\n_  118 Cod. Theod._ lib. ix. tit. 12.\n\n  119 Some commentators imagine (see Muratori, _Antich. Ital. Diss._ xiv.)\n      that among the Pagans the murder of a man\u2019s own slave was only\n      assimilated to the crime of murdering the slave of another man,\n      while in the Christian law it was defined as homicide, equivalent to\n      the murder of a freeman. I confess, however, this point does not\n      appear to me at all clear.\n\n  120 See Godefroy\u2019s _Commentary_ on these laws.\n\n  121 Exodus xxi. 21\n\n  122 \u201cQuas vilitates vit\u00e6 dignas legum observatione non credidit.\u201d\u2014_Cod.\n      Theod._ lib. ix. tit. 7. See on this law, Wallon, tome iii. pp. 417,\n      418.\n\n      Dean Milman observes, \u201cIn the old Roman society in the Eastern\n      Empire this distinction between the marriage of the freeman and the\n      concubinage of the slave was long recognised by Christianity itself.\n      These unions were not blessed, as the marriages of their superiors\n      had soon begun to be, by the Church. Basil the Macedonian (A.D.\n      867-886) first enacted that the priestly benediction should hallow\n      the marriage of the slave; but the authority of the emperor was\n      counteracted by the deep-rooted prejudices of centuries.\u201d\u2014_Hist. of\n      Latin Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 15.\n\n_  123 Cod. Theod._ lib. ii. tit. 25.\n\n  124 Ibid. lib. iv. tit. 7.\n\n  125 Ibid. lib. ix. tit. 9.\n\n_  126 Corpus Juris_, vi. 1.\n\n_  127 Cod. Theod._ lib. vi. tit. 2.\n\n  128 See on all this legislation, Wallon, tome iii.; Champagny, _Charit\u00e9\n      chr\u00e9tienne_, pp. 214-224.\n\n  129 It is worthy of notice, too, that the justice of slavery was\n      frequently based by the Fathers, as by modern defenders of slavery,\n      on the curse of Ham. See a number of passages noticed by Moehler,\n      _Le Christianisme et l\u2019Esclavage_ (trad. fran\u00e7.), pp. 151-152.\n\n  130 The penalty, however, appears to have been reduced to two years\u2019\n      exclusion from communion. Muratori says: \u201cIn pi\u00f9 consili si truova\n      decretato, \u2018excommunicatione vel p\u0153nitenti\u00e6 biennii esse\n      subjiciendum qui servum proprium sine conscientia judicis\n      occiderit.\u2019 \u201d\u2014_Antich. Ital._ Diss. xiv.\n\n      Besides the works which treat generally of the penitential\n      discipline, the reader may consult with fruit Wright\u2019s letter _On\n      the Political Condition of the English Peasantry_, and Moehler, p.\n      186.\n\n  131 On the great multitude of emancipated slaves who entered, and at one\n      time almost monopolised, the ecclesiastical offices, compare\n      Moehler, _Le Christianisme et l\u2019Esclavage_, pp. 177-178. Leo the\n      Great tried to prevent slaves being raised to the priestly office,\n      because it would degrade the latter.\n\n  132 See a most admirable dissertation on this subject in Le Blant,\n      _Inscriptions chr\u00e9tiennes de la Gaule_, tome ii. pp. 284-299;\n      Gibbon\u2019s _Decline and Fall_, ch. xxxviii.\n\n  133 Champagny, _Charit\u00e9 chr\u00e9tienne_, p. 210. These numbers are, no\n      doubt, exaggerated; see Wallon, _Hist. de l\u2019Esclavage_, tome iii. p.\n      38.\n\n  134 See Schmidt, _La Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 civile dans le Monde romain_, pp. 246-248.\n\n  135 Muratori has devoted two valuable dissertations (_Antich. Ital._\n      xiv. xv.) to medi\u00e6val slavery.\n\n  136 Ozanam\u2019s _Hist. of Civilisation in the Fifth Century_ (Eng. trans.),\n      vol. ii. p. 43. St. Adelbert, Archbishop of Prague at the end of the\n      tenth century, was especially famous for his opposition to the slave\n      trade. In Sweden, the abolition of slavery in the thirteenth century\n      was avowedly accomplished in obedience to Christian principles.\n      (Moehler, _Le Christianisme et l\u2019Esclavage_, pp. 194-196; Ryan\u2019s\n      _History of the Effects of Religion upon Mankind_, pp. 142, 143.)\n\n  137 Salvian, in a famous passage (_De Gubernatione Dei_, lib. v.),\n      notices the multitudes of poor who voluntarily became \u201ccoloni\u201d for\n      the sake of protection and a livelihood. The coloni, who were\n      attached to the soil, were much the same as the medi\u00e6val serfs. We\n      have already noticed them coming into being, apparently when the\n      Roman emperors settled barbarian prisoners to cultivate the desert\n      lands of Italy; and before the barbarian invasions their numbers\n      seem to have much increased. M. Guizot has devoted two chapters to\n      this subject. (_Hist. de la Civilisation en France_, vii. viii.)\n\n  138 See Finlay\u2019s _Hist. of Greece_, vol. i. p. 241.\n\n  139 Moehler, p. 181.\n\n  140 \u201cNon v\u2019era anticamente signor secolare, vescovo, abbate, capitolo di\n      canonici e monistero che non avesse al suo servigio molti servi.\n      Molto frequentemente solevano i secolari manometterli. Non cosi le\n      chiese, e i monisteri, non per altra cagione, a mio credere, se non\n      perch\u00e8 la manumissione \u00e8 una spezie di alienazione, ed era dai\n      canoni proibito l\u2019alienare i beni delle chiese.\u201d\u2014Muratori,\n      _Dissert._ xv. Some Councils, however, recognised the right of\n      bishops to emancipate Church slaves. Moehler, _Le Christianisme et\n      l\u2019Esclavage_, p. 187. Many peasants placed themselves under the\n      dominion of the monks, as being the best masters, and also to obtain\n      the benefit of their prayers.\n\n  141 Muratori; Hallam\u2019s _Middle Ages_, ch. ii. part ii.\n\n  142 See on this subject, Ryan, pp. 151-152; Cibrario, _Economica\n      politica del Medio Evo_, lib. iii. cap. ii., and especially Le\n      Blant, _Inscriptions chr\u00e9tiennes de la Gaule_, tome ii. pp. 284-299.\n\n  143 About 5/6ths of a bushel. See Hume\u2019s _Essay on the Populousness of\n      Ancient Nations_.\n\n  144 The history of these distributions is traced with admirable learning\n      by M. Naudet in his _M\u00e9moire sur les Secours publics dans\n      l\u2019Antiquit\u00e9_ (_M\u00e9m. de l\u2019Acad\u00e9mie des Inscrip. et Belles-lettres_,\n      tome xiii.), an essay to which I am much indebted. See, too,\n      Monnier, _Hist. de l\u2019Assistance publique_; B. Dumas, _Des Secours\n      publics chez les Anciens_; and Schmidt, _Essai sur la Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 civile\n      dans le Monde romain et sur sa Transformation par le Christianisme_.\n\n  145 Livy, ii. 9; Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ xxxi. 41.\n\n  146 Dion Cassius, xxxviii. 1-7.\n\n  147 Xiphilin, lxviii. 2; Pliny, _Ep._ vii. 31.\n\n  148 Spartian. _Sept. Severus_.\n\n  149 Suet. _August._ 41; Dion Cassius, li, 1.\n\n  150 \u201cAfflictos civitatis relevavit; puellas puerosque natos parentibus\n      egestosis sumptu publico per Itali\u00e6 oppida ali jussit.\u201d\u2014Sext.\n      Aurelius Victor, _Epitome_, \u201cNerva.\u201d This measure of Nerva, though\n      not mentioned by any other writer, is confirmed by the evidence of\n      medals. (Naudet, p. 75.)\n\n  151 Plin. _Panegyr._ xxvi. xxviii.\n\n  152 We know of this charity from an extant bronze tablet. See Schmidt,\n      _Essai historique sur la Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 romaine_, p. 428.\n\n  153 Plin. _Ep._ i. 8; iv. 13.\n\n  154 Schmidt, p. 428.\n\n  155 Spartianus, _Hadrian_.\n\n  156 Capitolinus, _Antoninus_.\n\n  157 Capitolinus, _Anton._, _Marc. Aurel._\n\n  158 Lampridius, _A. Severus_.\n\n  159 See Friedl\u00e6nder, _Hist. des M\u0153urs romaines_, iii. p. 157.\n\n  160 Seneca (_De Ira_, lib. i. cap. 16) speaks of institutions called\n      valetudinaria, which most writers think were private infirmaries in\n      rich men\u2019s houses. The opinion that the Romans had public hospitals\n      is maintained in a very learned and valuable, but little-known work,\n      called _Collections relative to the Systematic Relief of the Poor_.\n      (London, 1815.)\n\n  161 See Tacit. _Annal._ xii. 58; Pliny, v. 7; x. 79.\n\n  162 Cornelius Nepos, _Epaminondas_, cap. iii.\n\n  163 Plutarch, _Cimon_.\n\n  164 Diog. La\u00ebrt. _Bias_.\n\n  165 Tac. _Annal._ iv. 63.\n\n  166 See Pliny, _Ep._ x. 94, and the remarks of Naudet, pp. 38, 39.\n\n_  167 De Offic._ i. 14, 15.\n\n  168 Lucian describes this in his famous picture of Peregrinus; and\n      Julian, much later, accused the Christians of drawing men into the\n      Church by their charities. Socrates (_Hist. Eccl._ vii. 17) tells a\n      story of a Jew who, pretending to be a convert to Christianity, had\n      been often baptised in different sects, and had amassed a\n      considerable fortune by the gifts he received on those occasions. He\n      was at last miraculously detected by the Novatian bishop Paul. There\n      are several instances in the _Lives of the Saints_ of judgments\n      falling on those who duped benevolent Christians.\n\n  169 See on this subject Chastel, _\u00c9tudes historiques sur la Charit\u00e9_\n      (Paris, 1853); Martin Doisy, _Hist. de la Charit\u00e9 pendant les quatre\n      premiers Si\u00e8cles_ (Paris, 1848); Champagny, _Charit\u00e9 chr\u00e9tienne_;\n      Tollemer, _Origines de la Charit\u00e9 catholique_ (Paris, 1863); Ryan,\n      _History of the Effects of Religion upon Mankind_ (Dublin, 1820);\n      and the works of Bingham and of Cave. I am also indebted, in this\n      part of my subject, to Dean Milman\u2019s histories, Neander\u2019s\n      _Ecclesiastical History_, and _Private Life of the Early\n      Christians_, and to Migne\u2019s _Encyclop\u00e9die_.\n\n  170 See the famous epistle of Julian to Arsacius, where he declares that\n      it is shameful that \u201cthe Galileans\u201d should support not only their\n      own, but also the heathen poor; and also the comments of Sozomen,\n      _Hist. eccl._ v. 16.\n\n  171 The conduct of the Christians, on the first of these occasions, is\n      described by Pontius, _Vit. Cypriani_, ix. 19. St. Cyprian organised\n      their efforts. On the Alexandrian famines and pestilences, see\n      Eusebius, _H. E._ vii. 22; ix. 8.\n\n  172 The effects of this conquest have been well described by Sismondi,\n      _Hist. de la Chute de l\u2019Empire Romain_, tome i. pp. 258-260.\n      Theodoric afterwards made some efforts to re-establish the\n      distribution, but it never regained its former proportions. The\n      pictures of the starvation and depopulation of Italy at this time\n      are appalling. Some fearful facts on the subject are collected by\n      Gibbon, _Decline and Fall_, ch. xxxvi.; Chateaubriand, vime _Disc._\n      2de partie.\n\n_  173 Cod. Theod._ ix. xl. 15-16. The first of these laws was made by\n      Theodosius, A.D. 392; the second by Honorius, A.D. 398.\n\n  174 Cibrario, _Economica politica del Medio Evo_, lib. ii. cap. iii. The\n      most remarkable of these saints was St. Julien l\u2019Hospitalier, who\n      having under a mistake killed his father and mother, as a penance\n      became a ferryman of a great river, and having embarked on a very\n      stormy and dangerous night at the voice of a traveller in distress,\n      received Christ into his boat. His story is painted on a window of\n      the thirteenth century, in Rouen Cathedral. See Langlois, _Essai\n      historique sur la Peinture sur verre_, pp. 32-37.\n\n  175 The fact of leprosy being taken as the image of sin gave rise to\n      some curious notions of its supernatural character, and to many\n      legends of saints curing leprosy by baptism. See Maury, _L\u00e9gendes\n      pieuses du Moyen-Age_, pp. 64-65.\n\n  176 See on these hospitals Cibrario, _Econ. Politica del Medio Evo_,\n      lib. iii. cap. ii.\n\n  177 Calmeil observes: \u201cOn a souvent constat\u00e9 depuis un demi-si\u00e8cle que\n      la folie est sujette \u00e0 prendre la teinte des croyances religieuses,\n      des id\u00e9es philosophiques ou superstitieuses, des pr\u00e9jug\u00e9s sociaux\n      qui ont cours, qui sont actuellement en vogue parmi les peuples ou\n      les nations; que cette teinte varie dans un m\u00eame pays suivant le\n      caract\u00e8re des \u00e9v\u00e9nements relatifs \u00e0 la politique ext\u00e9rieure, le\n      caract\u00e8re des \u00e9v\u00e9nements civils, la nature des productions\n      litt\u00e9raires, des repr\u00e9sentations th\u00e9\u00e2trales, suivant la tournure, la\n      direction, le genre d\u2019\u00e9lan qu\u2019y prennent l\u2019industrie, les arts et\n      les sciences.\u201d\u2014_De la Folie_, tome i. pp. 122-123.\n\n  178 Milman\u2019s _History of Latin Christianity_, vol. vii. pp. 353, 354.\n\n      \u201cVenit de Anglia virgo decora valde, pariterque facunda, dicens,\n      Spiritum Sanctum incarnatum in redemptionem mulierum, et baptizavit\n      mulieres in nomine Patris, Filii et sui. Qu\u00e6 mortua ducta fuit in\n      Mediolanum, ibi et cremata.\u201d\u2014_Annales Dominicanorum Colmariensium_\n      (in the \u201cRerum Germanic. Scriptores\u201d).\n\n  179 \u201cMartin Gon\u00e7alez, du dioc\u00e8se de Cuenca, disoit qu\u2019il etoit fr\u00e8re de\n      l\u2019archange S. Michel, la premi\u00e8re v\u00e9rit\u00e9 et l\u2019\u00e9chelle du ciel; que\n      c\u2019\u00e9toit pour lui que Dieu r\u00e9servoit la place que Lucifer avoit\n      perdue; que tous les jours il s\u2019\u00e9levoit au plus haut de l\u2019Empir\u00e9e et\n      descendoit ensuite au plus profond des enfers; qu\u2019a la fin du monde,\n      qui \u00e9toit proche, il iroit au devant de l\u2019Antichrist et qu\u2019il le\n      terrasseroit, ayant \u00e1 sa main la croix de J\u00e9sus-Christ et sa\n      couronne d\u2019\u00e9pines. L\u2019archev\u00eaque de Tol\u00e8de, n\u2019ayant pu convertir ce\n      fanatique obstin\u00e9, ni l\u2019emp\u00eacher de dogmatiser, l\u2019avoit enfin livr\u00e9\n      au bras s\u00e9culier.\u201d\u2014Touron, _Hist. des Hommes illustres de l\u2019ordre de\n      St. Dominique_, Paris, 1745 (_Vie d\u2019Eym\u00e9ricus_), tome ii. p. 635.\n\n  180 Calmeil, _De la Folie_, tome i. p. 134.\n\n  181 Ibid. tome i. pp. 242-247.\n\n  182 Calmeil, tome i. p. 247.\n\n  183 See Esquirol, _Maladies mentales_.\n\n  184 Gibbon, _Decline and Fall_, ch. xxxvii.\n\n  185 Purchas\u2019s _Pilgrims_, ii. 1452.\n\n  186 Desmaisons\u2019 _Asiles d\u2019Ali\u00e9n\u00e9s en Espagne_, p. 53.\n\n  187 Leo Africanus, _Description of Africa_, book iii.\n\n  188 I have taken these facts from a very interesting little work,\n      Desmaisons, _Des Asiles d\u2019Ali\u00e9n\u00e9s en Espagne; Recherches historiques\n      et m\u00e9dicales_ (Paris, 1859). Dr. Desmaisons conjectures that the\n      Spaniards took their asylums from the Mohammedans; but, as it seems\n      to me, he altogether fails to prove his point. His work, however,\n      contains some curious information on the history of lunatic asylums.\n\n  189 Amydemus, _Pietas Romana_ (Oxford, 1687), p. 21; Desmaisons, p. 108.\n\n  190 Pinel, _Trait\u00e9 m\u00e9dico-philosophique_, pp. 241, 242.\n\n  191 See the dreadful description in Pinel, pp. 200-202.\n\n  192 Malthus, who is sometimes, though most unjustly, described as an\n      enemy to all charity, has devoted an admirable chapter (_On\n      Population_, book iv. ch. ix.) to the \u201cdirection of our charity;\u201d\n      but the fullest examination of this subject with which I am\n      acquainted is the very interesting work of Duch\u00e2tel, _Sur la\n      Charit\u00e9_.\n\n  193 This is very tersely expressed by a great Protestant writer: \u201cI give\n      no alms to satisfy the hunger of my brother, but to fulfil and\n      accomplish the will and command of my God.\u201d\u2014Sir T. Brown, _Religio\n      Medici_, part ii. \u00a7 2. A saying almost exactly similar is, if I\n      remember right, ascribed to St. Elizabeth of Hungary.\n\n  194 See Butler\u2019s _Lives of the Saints_.\n\n  195 Campion\u2019s _Historie of Ireland_, book ii. chap. x.\n\n  196 He wrote his _Perils of the Last Times_ in the interest of the\n      University of Paris, of which he was a Professor, and which was at\n      war with the mendicant orders. See Milman\u2019s _Latin Christianity_,\n      vol. vi. pp. 348-356; Fleury, _Eccl. Hist._ lxxxiv. 57.\n\n  197 Henry de Knyghton, _De Eventibus Angli\u00e6_.\n\n  198 There was some severe legislation in England on the subject after\n      the Black Death. Eden\u2019s _History of the Working Classes_, vol. i. p.\n      34. In France, too, a royal ordinance of 1350 ordered men who had\n      been convicted of begging three times to be branded with a hot iron.\n      Monteil, _Hist. des Fran\u00e7ais_, tome i. p. 434.\n\n  199 Eden, vol. i. pp. 83-87.\n\n  200 Ibid. pp. 101-103.\n\n  201 Ibid. pp. 127-130.\n\n  202 Morighini, _Institutions pieuses de Rome_.\n\n  203 Eden, _History of the Labouring Classes_, i. 83.\n\n  204 Locke discussed the great increase of poverty, and a bill was\n      brought in suggesting some remedies, but did not pass. (Eden, vol.\n      i. pp. 243-248.)\n\n  205 In a very forcible letter addressed to the Irish Catholic clergy.\n\n  206 This tract, which is extremely valuable for the light it throws upon\n      the social condition of England at the time, was written in\n      opposition to a bill providing that the poor in the poor-houses\n      should do wool, hemp, iron, and other works. Defoe says that wages\n      in England were higher than anywhere on the Continent, though the\n      amount of mendicancy was enormous. \u201cThe reason why so many pretend\n      to want work is, that they can live so well with the pretence of\n      wanting work.... I affirm of my own knowledge, when I have wanted a\n      man for labouring work, and offered nine shillings per week to\n      strolling fellows at my door, they have frequently told me to my\n      face they could get more a-begging.\u201d\n\n_  207 Reforma degl\u2019 Instituti pii di Modena_ (published first anonymously\n      at Modena). It has been reprinted in the library of the Italian\n      economists.\n\n_  208 Essay on Charity Schools._\n\n  209 Magdalen asylums have been very vehemently assailed by M. Charles\n      Comte, in his _Trait\u00e9 de L\u00e9gislation_. On the subject of Foundling\n      Hospitals there is a whole literature. They were violently attacked\n      by, I believe, Lord Brougham, in the _Edinburgh Review_, in the\n      early part of this century. Writers of this stamp, and indeed most\n      political economists, greatly exaggerate the forethought of men and\n      women, especially in matters where the passions are concerned. It\n      may be questioned whether one woman in a hundred, who plunges into a\n      career of vice, is in the smallest degree influenced by a\n      consideration of whether or not charitable institutions are provided\n      for the support of aged penitents.\n\n_  210 Apol._ ch. xlii.\n\n  211 On these penances, see Bingham, _Antiq._ book vii. Bingham, I think,\n      justly divides the history of asceticism into three periods. During\n      the first, which extends from the foundation of the Church to A.D.\n      250, there were men and women who, with a view to spiritual\n      perfection, abstained from marriage, relinquished amusements,\n      accustomed themselves to severe fasts, and gave up their property to\n      works of charity; but did this in the middle of society and without\n      leading the life of either a hermit or a monk. During the second\n      period, which extended from the Decian persecution, anchorites were\n      numerous, but the custom of a common or c\u0153nobitic life was unknown.\n      It was originated in the time of Constantine by Pachomius.\n\n  212 This is expressly stated by St. Jerome (_Vit. Pauli_).\n\n  213 See on this subject some curious evidence in Neander\u2019s _Life of\n      Chrysostom_. St. Chrysostom wrote a long work to console fathers\n      whose sons were thus seduced to the desert.\n\n  214 On this tradition see Champagny, _Les Antonins_, tome i. p. 193.\n\n_  215 Ep._ cxxiii.\n\n  216 Euseb. _Eccl. Hist._ ii. 23.\n\n  217 Gibbon, _Decline and Fall_, ch. xxxvii.; a brief but masterly sketch\n      of the progress of the movement.\n\n  218 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ xxxviii.\n\n  219 Jerome, Preface to the Rule of St. Pachomius, \u00a7 7.\n\n  220 Cassian, _De C\u0153nob. Inst._ iv. 1.\n\n  221 Rufinus, _Hist. Monach._ ch. v. Rufinus visited it himself.\n\n  222 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ lxxvi.\n\n  223 Rufinus, _Hist. Mon._ vii.\n\n  224 There is a good deal of doubt and controversy about this. See a note\n      in Mosheim\u2019s _Eccl. Hist._ (Soame\u2019s edition), vol. i. p. 354.\n\n  225 Most of the passages remaining on the subject of the foundation of\n      monachism are given by Thomassin, _Discipline de l\u2019\u00c9glise_, part i.\n      livre iii. ch. xii. This work contains also much general information\n      about monachism. A curious collection of statistics of the numbers\n      of the monks in different localities, additional to those I have\n      given and gleaned from the _Lives of the Saints_, may be found in\n      Pitra (_Vie de St. L\u00e9ger_, Introd. p. lix.); 2,100, or, according to\n      another account, 3,000 monks, lived in the monastery of Banchor.\n\n  226 The three principal are the _Historia Monachorum_ of Rufinus, who\n      visited Egypt A.D. 373, about seventeen years after the death of St.\n      Antony; the _Institutiones_ of Cassian, who, having visited the\n      Eastern monks about A.D. 394, founded vast monasteries containing,\n      it is said, 5,000 monks, at Marseilles, and died at a great age\n      about A.D. 448; and the _Historia Lausiaca_ (so called from Lausus,\n      Governor of Cappadocia) of Palladius, who was himself a hermit on\n      Mount Nitria, in A.D. 388. The first and last, as well as many minor\n      works of the same period, are given in Rosweyde\u2019s invaluable\n      collection of the lives of the Fathers, one of the most fascinating\n      volumes in the whole range of literature.\n\n      The hospitality of the monks was not without drawbacks. In a church\n      on Mount Nitria three whips were hung on a palm-tree\u2014one for\n      chastising monks, another for chastising thieves, and a third for\n      chastising guests. (Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ vii.)\n\n_  227 Vita Pauli._ St. Jerome adds, that some will not believe this,\n      because they have no faith, but that all things are possible for\n      those that believe.\n\n_  228 Vita St. Hilarion._\n\n  229 See a long list of these penances in Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. pour servir \u00e0\n      l\u2019Hist. eccl\u00e9s._ tome viii.\n\n_  230 Vit\u00e6 Patrum_ (Pachomius). He used to lean against a wall when\n      overcome by drowsiness.\n\n_  231 Vit\u00e6 Patrum_, ix. 3.\n\n  232 Sozomen, vi. 29.\n\n  233 E.g. St. Antony, according to his biographer St. Athanasius.\n\n  234 \u201cIl y eut dans le d\u00e9sert de Sc\u00e9t\u00e9 des solitaires d\u2019une \u00e9minente\n      perfection.... On pr\u00e9tend que pour l\u2019ordinaire ils passoient des\n      semaines enti\u00e8res sans manger, mais apparemment cela ne se faisoit\n      que dans des occasions particuli\u00e8res.\u201d\u2014Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. pour servir\n      \u00e0 l\u2019Hist. eccl._ tome viii. p. 580. Even this, however, was\n      admirable!\n\n  235 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ cap. xx.\n\n  236 \u201cPrimum cum accessisset ad eremum tribus continuis annis sub\n      cujusdam saxi rupe stans, semper oravit, ita ut nunquam omnino\n      resederit neque Jacuerit. Somni autem tantum caperet, quantum stans\n      capere potuit; cibum vero nunquam sumpserat nisi die Dominica.\n      Presbyter enim tunc veniebat ad eum et offerebat pro eo sacrificium\n      idque ei solum sacramentum erat et victus.\u201d\u2014Rufinus, _Hist. Monach._\n      cap. xv.\n\n  237 Thus St. Antony used to live in a tomb, where he was beaten by the\n      devil. (St. Athanasius, _Life of Antony._)\n\n  238 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03af. See on these monks Sozomen, vi. 33; Evagrius, i. 21. It is\n      mentioned of a certain St. Marc of Athens, that, having lived for\n      thirty years naked in the desert, his body was covered with hair\n      like that of a wild beast. (Bollandists, March 29.) St. Mary of\n      Egypt, during part of her period of penance, lived upon grass.\n      (_Vit\u00e6 Patrum._)\n\n_  239 Life of Antony._\n\n  240 \u201cII ne faisoit pas aussi difficult\u00e9 dans sa vieillesse de se laver\n      quelquefois les piez. Et comme on t\u00e9moignoit s\u2019en \u00e9tonner et trouver\n      que cela ne r\u00e9pondoit pas \u00e0 la vie aust\u00e8re des anciens, il se\n      justifioit par ces paroles: Nous avons appris \u00e0 tuer, non pas notre\n      corps mais nos passions.\u201d\u2014Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. Hist. eccl._ tome xv. p.\n      148. This saint was so very virtuous, that he sometimes remained\n      without eating for whole weeks.\n\n  241 \u201cNon appropinquavit oleum corpusculo ejus. Facies vel etiam pedes a\n      die conversionis su\u00e6 nunquam diluti sunt.\u201d\u2014_Vit\u00e6 Patrum_, c. xvii.\n\n  242 \u201cIn facie ejus puritas animi noscebatur.\u201d\u2014Ibid. c. xviii.\n\n  243 Socrates, iv. 23.\n\n  244 Heraclidis Paradisus (Rosweyde), c. xlii.\n\n  245 \u201cNulla earum pedes suos abluebat; aliquant\u00e6 vero audientes de balneo\n      loqui, irridentes, confusionem et magnam abominationem se audire\n      judicabant, qu\u00e6 neque audi tum suum hoc audire patiebantur.\u201d\u2014_Vit.\n      S. Euphrax._ c. vi. (Rosweyde.)\n\n  246 See her acts, Bollandists, April 2, and in the _Vit\u00e6 Patrum_.\n\n  247 \u201cPatres nostri nunquam facies suas lavabant, nos autem lavacra\n      publica balneaque frequentamus.\u201d\u2014Moschus, _Pratum Spirituale_,\n      clxviii.\n\n_  248 Pratum Spirituale_, lxxx.\n\n      An Irish saint, named Coemgenus, is said to have shown his devotion\n      in a way which was directly opposite to that of the other saints I\n      have mentioned\u2014by his special use of cold water\u2014but the principle in\n      each case was the same\u2014to mortify nature. St. Coemgenus was\n      accustomed to pray for an hour every night in a pool of cold water,\n      while the devil sent a horrible beast to swim round him. An angel,\n      however, was sent to him for three purposes. \u201cTribus de causis \u00e0\n      Domino missus est angelus ibi ad S. Coemgenum. Prima ut a diversis\n      suis gravibus laboribus levius viveret paulisper; secunda ut\n      horridam bestiam sancto infestam repelleret; tertia _ut frigiditatem\n      aqu\u00e6 calefaceret_.\u201d\u2014Bollandists, June 3. The editors say these acts\n      are of doubtful authenticity.\n\n  249 See his Life by his disciple Antony, in the _Vit\u00e6 Patrum_, Evagrius,\n      i. 13, 14. Theodoret, _Philotheos_, cap. xxvi.\n\n  250 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ lxxvi.\n\n  251 Rufinus, Hist. _Monach._ xxxiii.\n\n  252 We have a striking illustration of this in St. Arsenius. His\n      eyelashes are said to have fallen off through continual weeping, and\n      he had always, when at work, to put a cloth on his breast to receive\n      his tears. As he felt his death approaching, his terror rose to the\n      point of agony. The monks who were about him said, \u201c \u2018Quid fles,\n      pater? numquid et tu times?\u2019 Ille respondit, \u2018In veritate timeo et\n      iste timor qui nunc mecum est, semper in me fuit, ex quo factus sum\n      monachus.\u2019 \u201d\u2014_Verba Seniorum_, Prol. \u00a7 163. It was said of St.\n      Abraham that no day passed after his conversion without his shedding\n      tears. (_Vit. Patrum._) St. John the dwarf once saw a monk laughing\n      immoderately at dinner, and was so horrified that he at once began\n      to cry. (Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. de l\u2019Hist. eccl\u00e9s._ tome x. p. 430.) St.\n      Basil (_Regul\u00e6_, interrog. xvii.) gives a remarkable disquisition on\n      the wickedness of laughing, and he observes that this was the one\n      bodily affection which Christ does not seem to have known. Mr.\n      Buckle has collected a series of passages to precisely the same\n      effect from the writings of the Scotch divines. (_Hist. of\n      Civilisation_, vol. ii. pp. 385-386.)\n\n  253 \u201cMonachus autem non doctoris habet sed plangentis officium.\u201d\u2014_Contr.\n      Vigilant._ xv.\n\n  254 As Tillemont puts it: \u201cIl se trouva tr\u00e8s-peu de saints en qui Dieu\n      ait joint les talens ext\u00e9rieurs de l\u2019\u00e9loquence et de la science avec\n      la gr\u00e2ce de la proph\u00e9tie et des miracles. Ce sont des dons que sa\n      Providence a presque toujours s\u00e9par\u00e9s.\u201d\u2014_M\u00e9m. Hist. eccl\u00e9s._ tome\n      iv. p. 315.\n\n  255 St. Athanasius, _Vit. Anton._\n\n_  256 Ep._ xxii. He says his shoulders were bruised when he awoke.\n\n_  257 Ep._ lxx.; _Adv. Rufinum_, lib. i. ch. xxx. He there speaks of his\n      vision as a mere dream, not binding. He elsewhere (_Ep._ cxxv.)\n      speaks very sensibly of the advantage of hermits occupying\n      themselves, and says he learnt Hebrew to keep away unholy thoughts.\n\n  258 Sozomen, vi. 28; Rufinus, _Hist. Monach._ ch. vi. Socrates tells\n      rather a touching story of one of these illiterate saints, named\n      Pambos. Being unable to read, he came to some one to be taught a\n      psalm. Having learnt the single verse, \u201cI said I will take heed to\n      my ways, that I offend not with my tongue,\u201d he went away, saying\n      that was enough if it were practically acquired. When asked, six\n      months, and again many years, after, why he did not come to learn\n      another verse, he answered that he had never been able truly to\n      master this. (_H. E._ iv. 23.)\n\n  259 Tillemont, x. p. 61.\n\n  260 Ibid. viii. 490; Socrates, _H. E._ iv. 23.\n\n  261 I have combined in this passage incidents from three distinct lives.\n      St. Jerome, in a very famous and very beautiful passage of his\n      letter to Eustochium (_Ep._ xxii.) describes the manner in which the\n      forms of dancing-girls appeared to surround him as he knelt upon the\n      desert sands. St. Mary of Egypt (_Vit\u00e6 Patrum_, ch. xix.) was\n      especially tortured by the recollection of the songs she had sung\n      when young, which continually haunted her mind. St. Hilarion (see\n      his _Life_ by St. Jerome) thought he saw a gladiatorial show while\n      he was repeating the psalms. The manner in which the different\n      visions faded into one another like dissolving views is repeatedly\n      described in the biographies.\n\n  262 Rufinus, _Hist. Monach._, ch. xi. This saint was St. Helenus.\n\n  263 Life of St. Pachomius (_Vit. Patrum_), cap. ix.\n\n  264 Rufinus, _Hist. Monach._ cap. i. This story was told to Rufinus by\n      St. John the hermit. The same saint described his own visions very\n      graphically. \u201cDenique etiam me frequenter d\u00e6mones noctibus\n      seduxerunt, et neque orare neque requiescere permiserunt, phantasias\n      quasdam per noctem totam sensibus meis et cogitationes suggerentes.\n      Mane vero velut cum quadam illusione prosternebant se ante me\n      dicentes, Indulge nobis, abbas, quia laborem tibi incussimus tota\n      nocte.\u201d\u2014Ibid. St. Benedict in the desert is said to have been\n      tortured by the recollection of a beautiful girl he had once seen,\n      and only regained his composure by rolling in thorns. (St. Greg.\n      _Dial._ ii. 2.)\n\n  265 She lived also for some time in a convent at Jerusalem, which she\n      had founded. Melania (who was one of St. Jerome\u2019s friends) was a\n      lady of rank and fortune, who devoted her property to the monks. See\n      her journey in Rosweyde, lib. ii.\n\n  266 See his _Life_ in Tillemont.\n\n  267 Ibid. x. p. 14. A certain Didymus lived entirely alone till his\n      death, which took place when he was ninety. (Socrates, _H. E._ iv.\n      23.)\n\n  268 Rufinus, _Hist. Monachorum_, cap. i.\n\n_  269 Verba Seniorum_, \u00a7 65.\n\n  270 Pelagia was very pretty, and, according to her own account, \u201cher\n      sins were heavier than the sand.\u201d The people of Antioch, who were\n      very fond of her, called her Margarita, or the pearl. \u201cIl arriva un\n      jour que divers \u00e9vesques, appelez par celui d\u2019Antioche pour quelques\n      affaires, estant ensemble \u00e0 la porte de l\u2019eglise de S.-Julien,\n      P\u00e9lagie passa devant eux dans tout l\u2019\u00e9clat des pompes du diable,\n      n\u2019ayant pas seulement une coeffe sur sa teste ni un mouchoir sur ses\n      \u00e9paules, ce qu\u2019on remarqua comme le comble de son impudence. Tous\n      les \u00e9vesques baiss\u00e8rent les yeux en g\u00e9missant pour ne pas voir ce\n      dangereux objet de p\u00e9ch\u00e9, hors Nonne, tr\u00e8s-saint \u00e9vesque d\u2019H\u00e9liople,\n      qui la regarda avec une attention qui fit peine aux autres.\u201d\n      However, this bishop immediately began crying a great deal, and\n      reassured his brethren, and a sermon which he preached led to the\n      conversion of the actress. (Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. d\u2019Hist. eccl\u00e9s._ tome\n      xii. pp. 378-380. See, too, on women, \u201cunder pretence of religion,\n      attiring themselves as men,\u201d Sozomen, iii. 14.)\n\n  271 Tillemont, tome x. pp. 376, 377. Apart from family affections, there\n      are some curious instances recorded of the anxiety of the saints to\n      avoid distractions. One monk used to cover his face when he went\n      into his garden, lest the sight of the trees should disturb his\n      mind. (_Verb. Seniorum._) St. Arsenius could not bear the rustling\n      of the reeds (ibid.); and a saint named Boniface struck dead a man\n      who went about with an ape and a cymbal, because he had (apparently\n      quite unintentionally) disturbed him at his prayers. (St. Greg.\n      _Dial._ i. 9.)\n\n  272 \u201cQuemadmodum se jam divitem non esse sciebat, ita etiam patrem se\n      esse nesciret.\u201d\u2014Cassian, _De C\u0153nobiorum Institutis_, iv. 27.\n\n  273 \u201cCumque taliter infans sub oculis ejus per dies singulos ageretur,\n      pro amore nihilominus Christi et obedienti\u00e6 virtute, rigida semper\n      atque immobilia patris viscera permanserunt ... parum cogitans de\n      lacrymis ejus, sed de propria humilitate ac perfectione\n      sollicitus.\u201d\u2014Ibid.\n\n  274 Ibid.\n\n  275 Bollandists, July 6; _Verba Seniorum_, xiv.\n\n_  276 Verba Seniorum_, xiv.\n\n  277 TARTUFFE (_tirant un mouchoir_\n      _ de sa poche_).\n\n      \u201cAh, mon Dieu, je vous prie,\n      Avant que de parler, prenez-moi ce mouchoir.\n\n      DORINE.\n\n      Comment!\n\n      TARTUFFE.\n\n      Couvrez ce sein que je ne saurois voir;\n      Par de pareils objets des \u00e2mes sont bless\u00e9es,\n      Et cela fait venir de coupables pens\u00e9es.\u201d\n\n      _Tartuffe_, Acte iii. sc\u00e8ne 2.\n\n  278 Bollandists, July 6.\n\n_  279 Verba Seniorum_, iv. The poor woman, being startled and perplexed\n      at the proceedings of her son, said, \u201cQuid sic operuisti manus tuas,\n      fili? Ille autem dixit: Quia corpus mulieris ignis est, et ex eo\n      ipso quo te contingebam veniebat mihi commemoratio aliarum feminarum\n      in animo.\u201d\n\n  280 Tillemont, _M\u00e9m. de l\u2019Hist. eccl\u00e9s._ tome x. pp. 444, 445.\n\n_  281 Vit. S. Pachomius_, ch. xxxi.; _Verba Seniorum_.\n\n_  282 Verba Senorium_, xiv.\n\n  283 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ cap. lxxxvii.\n\n  284 Bollandists, June 6. I avail myself again of the version of\n      Tillemont. \u201cLorsque S. Pemen demeuroit en Egypte avec ses fr\u00e8res,\n      leur m\u00e8re, qui avoit un extr\u00eame d\u00e9sir de les voir, venoit souvent au\n      lieu o\u00f9 ils estoient, sans pouvoir jamais avoir cette satisfaction.\n      Une fois enfin elle prit si bien son temps qu\u2019elle les rencontra qui\n      alloient \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9glise, mais d\u00e8s qu\u2019ils la virent ils s\u2019en retourn\u00e8rent\n      en haste dans leur cellule et ferm\u00e8rent la porte sur eux. Elle les\n      suivit, et trouvant la porte, elle les appeloit avec des larmes et\n      des cris capables de les toucher de compassion.... Pemen s\u2019y leva et\n      s\u2019y en alla, et l\u2019entendant pleurer il luy dit, tenant toujours la\n      porte ferm\u00e9e, \u2018Pourquoi vous lassez-vous inutilement \u00e0 pleurer et\n      crier? N\u2019\u00eates-vous pas d\u00e9j\u00e0 assez abattue par la vieillesse?\u2019 Elle\n      reconnut la voix de Pemen, et s\u2019effor\u00e7ant encore davantage, elle\n      s\u2019\u00e9cria, \u2018H\u00e9, mes enfans, c\u2019est que je voudrais bien vous voir: et\n      quel mal y a-t-il que je vous voie? Ne suis-je pas votre m\u00e8re, et ne\n      vous ai-je pas nourri du lait de mes mammelles? Je suis d\u00e9j\u00e0 toute\n      pleine de rides, et lorsque je vous ay entendu, l\u2019extr\u00eame envie que\n      j\u2019ay de vous voir m\u2019a tellement \u00e9mue que je suis presque tomb\u00e9e en\n      d\u00e9faillance.\u2019 \u201d\u2014_M\u00e9moires de l\u2019Hist. eccl\u00e8s._ tome xv. pp. 157, 158.\n\n  285 The original is much more eloquent than my translation. \u201cFili, quare\n      hoc fecisti? Pro utero quo te portavi, satiasti me luctu, pro\n      lactatione qua te lactavi dedisti mihi lacrymas, pro osculo quo te\n      osculata sum, dedisti mihi amaras cordis angustias; pro dolore et\n      labore quem passa sum, imposuisti mihi s\u00e6vissimas plagas.\u201d\u2014_Vita\n      Simeonis_ (in Rosweyde).\n\n  286 Bingham, _Antiquities_, book vii. ch. iii.\n\n  287 Ibid.\n\n  288 Bingham, _Antiquities_, book vii. chap. 3.\n\n  289 Milman\u2019s _Early Christianity_ (ed. 1867), vol. iii. p. 122.\n\n  290 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 153.\n\n  291 Ibid. vol. iii. p. 120.\n\n_  292 De Virginibus_, i. 11.\n\n  293 See Milman\u2019s _Early Christianity_, vol. iii. p. 121.\n\n_  294 De Virginibus_, i. 11.\n\n_  295 Epist._ xxiv.\n\n  296 St. Jerome describes the scene at her departure with admiring\n      eloquence. \u201cDescendit ad portum fratre, cognatis, affinibus et quod\n      majus est liberis prosequentibus, et elementissimam matrem pietate\n      vincere cupientibus. Jam carbasa tendebantur, et remorum ductu navis\n      in altum protrahebatur. Parvus Toxotius supplices manus tendebat in\n      littore, Ruffina jam nubilis ut suas expectaret nuptias tacens\n      fletibus obsecrabat. Et tamen illa siccos tendebat ad c\u00e6lum oculos,\n      pietatem in filios pietate in Deum superans. Nesciebat se matrem ut\n      Christi probaret ancillam.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ cviii. In another place he says of\n      her: \u201cTestis est Jesus, ne unum quidem nummum ab ea fili\u00e6 derelictum\n      sed, ut ante jam dixi, derelictum magnum \u00e6s alienum.\u201d\u2014Ibid. And\n      again: \u201cVis, lector, ejus breviter scire virtutes? Omnes suos\n      pauperes, pauperior ipsa dimisit.\u201d\u2014Ibid.\n\n  297 See Chastel, _Etudes historiques sur la Charit\u00e9_, p. 231. The\n      parents of St. Gregory Nazianzen had made this request, which was\n      faithfully observed.\n\n  298 Chastel, p. 232.\n\n  299 See a characteristic passage from the _Life of St. Fulgentius_,\n      quoted by Dean Milman. \u201cFacile potest juvenis tolerare quemcunque\n      imposuerit laborem qui poterit maternum jam despicere\n      dolorem.\u201d\u2014_Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 82.\n\n_  300 Ep._ xiv. (_Ad Heliodorum_).\n\n  301 St. Greg. _Dial._ ii. 24.\n\n  302 Bollandists, May 3 (vol. vii. p. 561).\n\n  303 \u201cHospitibus omni loco ac tempore liberalissimus fuit.... Solis\n      consanguineis durus erat et inhumanus, tamquam ignotos illos\n      respiciens.\u201d\u2014Bollandists, May 29.\n\n  304 See Helyot, _Dict. des Ordres religieux_, art. \u201cCamaldules.\u201d\n\n  305 See the charming sketch in the _Life of St. Francis_, by Hase.\n\n  306 The legend of St. Scholastica, the sister of St. Benedict, has been\n      often quoted. He had visited her, and was about to leave in the\n      evening, when she implored him to stay. He refused, and she then\n      prayed to God, who sent so violent a tempest that the saint was\n      unable to depart. (St. Greg. _Dial._ ii. 33.) Cassian speaks of a\n      monk who thought it his duty never to see his mother, but who\n      laboured for a whole year to pay off a debt she had incurred.\n      (C\u0153nob. _Inst._ v. 38.) St. Jerome mentions the strong natural\n      affection of Paula, though she considered it a virtue to mortify it.\n      (_Ep._ cviii.)\n\n_  307 Life of Antony._ See, too, the sentiments of St. Pachomius, _Vit._\n      cap. xxvii.\n\n  308 \u201cNec ulla res aliena magis quam publica.\u201d\u2014Tertullian, _Apol._ ch.\n      xxxviii.\n\n  309 \u201cQuid interest sub cujus imperio vivat homo moriturus, si illi qui\n      imperant, ad impia et iniqua non cogant.\u201d\u2014St. Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, v.\n      17.\n\n  310 St. Jerome declares that \u201cMonachum in patria sua perfectum esse non\n      posse, perfectum autem esse nolle delinquere est.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ xiv. Dean\n      Milman well says of a later period: \u201cAccording to the monastic view\n      of Christianity, the total abandonment of the world, with all its\n      ties and duties, as well as its treasures, its enjoyments, and\n      objects of ambition, advanced rather than diminished the hopes of\n      salvation. Why should they fight for a perishing world, from which\n      it was better to be estranged?... It is singular, indeed, that while\n      we have seen the Eastern monks turned into fierce undisciplined\n      soldiers, perilling their own lives and shedding the blood of others\n      without remorse, in assertion of some shadowy shade of orthodox\n      expression, hardly anywhere do we find them asserting their\n      liberties or their religion with intrepid resistance. Hatred of\n      heresy was a more stirring motive than the dread or the danger of\n      Islamism. After the first defeats the Christian mind was still\n      further prostrated by the common notion that the invasion was a just\n      and heaven-commissioned visitation; ... resistance a vain, almost an\n      impious struggle to avert inevitable punishment.\u201d\u2014Milman\u2019s _Latin\n      Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 206. Compare Massillon\u2019s famous _Discours\n      au R\u00e9giment de Catinat_:\u2014\u201cCe qu\u2019il y a ici de plus d\u00e9plorable, c\u2019est\n      que dans une vie rude et p\u00e9nible, dans des emplois dont les devoirs\n      passent quelquefois la rigueur des clo\u00eetres les plus aust\u00e8res, vous\n      souffrez toujours en vain pour l\u2019autre vie.... Dix ans de services\n      ont plus us\u00e9 votre corps qu\u2019une vie enti\u00e8re de p\u00e9nitence ... un seul\n      jour de ces souffrances, consacr\u00e9 au Seigneur, vous aurait peut-\u00eatre\n      valu un bonheur \u00e9ternel.\u201d\n\n  311 See a very striking passage in Salvian, _De Gubern. Div._ lib. vi.\n\n  312 Chateaubriand very truly says, \u201cqu\u2019Orose et saint Augustin \u00e9toient\n      plus occup\u00e9s du schisme de P\u00e9lage que de la d\u00e9solation de l\u2019Afrique\n      et des Gaules.\u201d\u2014_\u00c9tudes histor._ vime discours, 2de partie. The\n      remark might certainly be extended much further.\n\n  313 Zosimus, _Hist._ v. 41. This was on the first occasion when Rome was\n      menaced by Alaric.\n\n  314 See Merivale\u2019s _Conversion of the Northern Nations_, pp. 207-210.\n\n  315 See Sismondi, _Hist. de la Chute de l\u2019Empire romain_, tome i. p.\n      230.\n\n  316 Eunapius. There is no other authority for the story of the\n      treachery, which is not believed by Gibbon.\n\n  317 Sismondi, _Hist. de la Chute de l\u2019Empire romain_, tome ii. pp.\n      52-54; Milman, _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 213. The\n      Monophysites were greatly afflicted because, after the conquest, the\n      Mohammedans tolerated the orthodox believers as well as themselves,\n      and were unable to appreciate the distinction between them. In Gaul,\n      the orthodox clergy favoured the invasions of the Franks, who, alone\n      of the barbarian conquerors of Gaul, were Catholics, and St.\n      Aprunculus was obliged to fly, the Burgundians desiring to kill him\n      on account of his suspected connivance with the invaders. (Greg.\n      _Tur._ ii. 23.)\n\n  318 Dean Milman says of the Church, \u201cif treacherous to the interests of\n      the Roman Empire, it was true to those of mankind.\u201d\u2014_Hist. of\n      Christianity_, vol. iii. p. 48. So Gibbon: \u201cIf the decline of the\n      Roman Empire was hastened by the conversion of Constantine, the\n      victorious religion broke the violence of the fall and mollified the\n      ferocious temper of the conquerors.\u201d\u2014Ch. xxxviii.\n\n  319 Observe with what a fine perception St. Augustine notices the\n      essentially unchristian character of the moral dispositions to which\n      the greatness of Rome was due. He quotes the sentence of Sallust:\n      \u201cCivitas, incredibile memoratu est, adept\u00e2 libertate quantum brevi\n      creverit, tanta cupido glori\u00e6 incesserat;\u201d and adds: \u201cIsta ergo\n      laudis aviditas et cupido glori\u00e6 multa illa miranda fecit,\n      laudabilia scilicet atque gloriosa secundum hominum existimationem\n      ... causa honoris, laudis et glori\u00e6 consuluerunt patri\u00e6, in qua\n      ipsam gloriam requirebant, salutemque ejus saluti su\u00e6 pr\u00e6ponere non\n      dubitaverunt, pro isto uno vitio, id est, amore laudis, pecuni\u00e6\n      cupiditatem et multa alia vitia comprimentes.... Quid aliud amarent\n      quam gloriam, qua volebant etiam post mortem tanquam vivere in ore\n      laudantium?\u201d\u2014_De Civ. Dei_, v. 12-13.\n\n  320 \u201cPr\u00e6ter majorum cineres atque ossa, volucri\n      Carpento rapitur pinguis Damasippus et ipse,\n      Ipse rotam stringit multo sufflamine consul;\n      Nocte quidem; sed luna videt, sed sidera testes\n      Intendunt oculos. Finitum tempus honoris\n      Quum fuerit, clara Damasippus luce flagellum Sumet.\u201d\u2014Juvenal, _Sat._\n      viii. 146.\n\n_  321 Nat. Qu\u00e6st._ iv. 13. _Ep._ 78.\n\n  322 \u201cPessimum vit\u00e6 scelus fecit, qui id [aurum] primus induit digitis\n      ... quisquis primus instituit cunctanter id fecit, l\u00e6visque manibus,\n      latentibusque induit.\u201d\u2014Plin. _Hist. Nat._ xxxiii. 4.\n\n  323 See a curious passage in his _Apologia_. It should be said that we\n      have only his own account of the charges brought against him.\n\n  324 The history of false hair has been written with much learning by M.\n      Guerle in his _\u00c9loge des Perruques_.\n\n  325 The fullest view of this age is given in a very learned little work\n      by Peter Erasmus M\u00fcller (1797), _De Genio \u00c6vi Theodosiani_.\n      Montfaucon has also devoted two essays to the moral condition of the\n      Eastern world, one of which is given in Jortin\u2019s _Remarks on\n      Ecclesiastical History_.\n\n  326 See on these abuses Mosheim, _Eccl. Hist._ (Soame\u2019s ed.), vol. i. p.\n      463; Cave\u2019s _Primitive Christianity_, part i. ch. xi.\n\n  327 Cave\u2019s _Primitive Christianity_, part i. ch. vii.\n\n_  328 Ep._ lxi.\n\n  329 Evagrius describes with much admiration how certain monks of\n      Palestine, by \u201ca life wholly excellent and divine,\u201d had so overcome\n      their passions that they were accustomed to bathe with women; for\n      \u201cneither sight nor touch, nor a woman\u2019s embrace, could make them\n      relapse into their natural condition. Among men they desired to be\n      men, and among women, women.\u201d (_H. E._ i. 21.)\n\n  330 These \u201cmulieres subintroduct\u00e6,\u201d as they were called, are continually\n      noticed by Cyprian, Jerome, and Chrysostom. See M\u00fcller, _De Genio\n      \u00c6vi Theodosiani_, and also the _Codex Theod._ xvi. tit. ii. lex 44,\n      with the Comments. Dr. Todd, in his learned _Life of St. Patrick_\n      (p. 91), quotes (I shall not venture to do so) from the _Lives of\n      the Irish Saints_ an extremely curious legend of a kind of contest\n      of sanctity between St. Scuthinus and St. Brendan, in which it was\n      clearly proved that the former had mastered his passions more\n      completely than the latter. An enthusiast named Robert\n      d\u2019Arbrisselles is said in the twelfth century to have revived the\n      custom. (Jortin\u2019s _Remarks_, A.D. 1106.)\n\n  331 St. Jerome gives (_Ep._ lii.) an extremely curious picture of these\n      clerical flatterers, and several examples of the terms of endearment\n      they were accustomed to employ. The tone of flattery which St.\n      Jerome himself, though doubtless with the purest motives, employs in\n      his copious correspondence with his female admirers, is to a modern\n      layman peculiarly repulsive, and sometimes verges upon blasphemy. In\n      his letter to Eustochium, whose daughter as a nun had become the\n      \u201cbride of Christ,\u201d he calls the mother \u201cSocrus Dei,\u201d the\n      mother-in-law of God. See, too, the extravagant flatteries of\n      Chrysostom in his correspondence with Olympias.\n\n  332 \u201cPudet dicere sacerdotes idolorum, mimi et aurig\u00e6 et scorta\n      h\u00e6reditates capiunt; solis clericis et monachis hoc lege prohibetur,\n      et prohibetur non a persecutoribus, sed a principibus Christianis.\n      Nec de lege conqueror sed doleo cur meruerimus hanc legem.\u201d _Ep._\n      lii.\n\n  333 See Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Early Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 314.\n\n  334 This was one cause of the disputes between St. Gregory the Great and\n      the Emperor Eustace. St. Chrysostom frequently notices the\n      opposition of the military and the monastic spirits.\n\n  335 Hieron. _Ep._ cxxviii.\n\n  336 St. Greg. Nyss. _Ad eund. Hieros_. Some Catholic writers have\n      attempted to throw doubt upon the genuineness of this epistle, but,\n      Dean Milman thinks, with no sufficient reason. Its account of\n      Jerusalem is to some extent corroborated by St. Jerome. (_Ad\n      Paulinum_, _Ep._ xxix.)\n\n  337 \u201cPr\u00e6terea non taceo charitati vestr\u00e6, quia omnibus servis Dei qui\n      hic vel in Scriptura vel in timore Dei probatissimi esse videntur,\n      displicet quod bonum et honestas et pudicitia vestr\u00e6 ecclesi\u00e6\n      illuditur; et aliquod levamentum turpitudinis esset, si prohiberet\n      synodus et principes vestri mulieribus et velatis feminis illud iter\n      et frequentiam, quam ad Romanam civitatem veniendo et redeundo\n      faciunt, quia magna ex parte pereunt, paucis remeantibus integris.\n      Perpauc\u00e6 enim sunt civitates in Longobardia vel in Francia aut in\n      Gallia in qua non sit adultera vel meretrix generis Anglorum, quod\n      scandalum est et turpitudo totius ecclesi\u00e6 vestr\u00e6.\u201d\u2014(A.D. 745) _Ep._\n      lxiii.\n\n  338 See Milman\u2019s _Latin Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 8.\n\n  339 Tillemont, _Hist. eccl._ tome xi. p. 547.\n\n  340 This was enjoined in the rule of St. Paphnutius. See Tillemont, tome\n      x. p. 45.\n\n  341 \u201cOmnimodis monachum fugere debere mulieres et episcopos.\u201d\u2014Cassian,\n      _De C\u0153nob. Inst._ xi. 17.\n\n  342 We also find now and then, though I think very rarely, intellectual\n      flashes of some brilliancy. Two of them strike me as especially\n      noteworthy. St. Arsenius refused to separate young criminals from\n      communion though he had no hesitation about old men; for he had\n      observed that young men speedily get accustomed and indifferent to\n      the state of excommunication, while old men feel continually, and\n      acutely, the separation. (Socrates, iv. 23.) St. Apollonius\n      explained the Egyptian idolatry with the most intelligent\n      rationalism. The ox, he thought, was in the first instance\n      worshipped for its domestic uses; the Nile, because it was the chief\n      cause of the fertility of the soil &c. (Rufinus, _Hist. Mon._ cap.\n      vii.)\n\n  343 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ cap. xix.\n\n  344 Rufinus, _Hist. Monach._ cap. xxix.\n\n  345 Tillemont, _Hist. eccl._ tome viii. pp. 583, 584.\n\n  346 Ibid. p. 589.\n\n  347 Theodoret, _Philoth._ cap. iii.\n\n_  348 Verba Seniorum._\n\n  349 Theodoret, _Philoth._ cap. ii.\n\n  350 Tillemont, tome viii. pp. 594-595.\n\n  351 Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ viii. 1. Many anecdotes of elephants are\n      collected viii. 1-12. See, too, Dion Cassius, xxxix. 38.\n\n  352 Pliny, viii. 40.\n\n  353 Donne\u2019s _Biathanatos_. p. 22. This habit of bees is mentioned by St.\n      Ambrose. The pelican, as is well known, afterwards became an emblem\n      of Christ.\n\n  354 Plin. _Hist. Nat._ x. 6.\n\n  355 A long list of legends about dogs is given by Legendre, in the very\n      curious chapter on animals, in his _Trait\u00e9 de l\u2019Opinion_, tome i.\n      pp. 308-327.\n\n  356 Pliny tells some extremely pretty stories of this kind. (_Hist.\n      Nat._ ix. 8-9.) See, too, Aulus Gellius, xvi. 19. The dolphin, on\n      account of its love for its young, became a common symbol of Christ\n      among the early Christians.\n\n  357 A very full account of the opinions, both of ancient and modern\n      philosophers, concerning the souls of animals, is given by Bayle,\n      _Dict._ arts. \u201cPereira E,\u201d \u201cRorarius K.\u201d\n\n  358 The Jewish law did not confine its care to oxen. The reader will\n      remember the touching provision, \u201cThou shalt not seethe a kid in his\n      mother\u2019s milk\u201d (Deut. xiv. 21); and the law forbidding men to take a\n      parent bird that was sitting on its young or on its eggs. (Deut.\n      xxii. 6, 7.)\n\n  359 \u201cCujus tanta fuit apud antiquos veneratio, ut tam capital esset\n      bovem necuisse quam civem.\u201d\u2014Columella, lib. vi. in pro\u0153m. \u201cHic\n      socius hominum in rustico opere et Cereris minister. Ab hoc antiqui\n      manus ita abstinere voluerunt ut capite sanxerint si quis\n      occidisset.\u201d\u2014Varro, _De Re Rustic._ lib. ii. cap. v.\n\n  360 See Legendre, tome ii. p. 338. The sword with which the priest\n      sacrificed the ox was afterwards pronounced accursed. (\u00c6lian, _Hist.\n      Var._ lib. viii. cap. iii.)\n\n  361 Diog. La\u00ebrt. _Xenocrates_.\n\n  362 There is a story told by Herodotus (i. 157-159) of an ambassador who\n      was sent by his fellow-countrymen to consult an oracle at Miletus\n      about a suppliant who had taken refuge with the Cym\u00e6ans and was\n      demanded with menace by his enemies. The oracle, being bribed,\n      enjoined the surrender. The ambassador on leaving, with seeming\n      carelessness disturbed the sparrows under the portico of the temple,\n      when the voice from behind the altar denounced his impiety for\n      disturbing the guests of the gods. The ambassador replied with an\n      obvious and withering retort. \u00c6lian says (_Hist. Var._) that the\n      Athenians condemned to death a boy for killing a sparrow that had\n      taken refuge in the temple of \u00c6sculapius.\n\n  363 Quintilian, _Inst._ v. 9.\n\n  364 In the same way we find several chapters in the _Zendavesta_ about\n      the criminality of injuring dogs; which is explained by the great\n      importance of shepherd\u2019s dogs to a pastoral people.\n\n  365 On the origin of Greek cock-fighting, see \u00c6lian, _Hist. Var._ ii.\n      28. Many particulars about it are given by Athen\u00e6us. Chrysippus\n      maintained that cock-fighting was the final cause of cocks, these\n      birds being made by Providence in order to inspire us by the example\n      of their courage. (Plutarch, _De Repug. Stoic._) The Greeks do not,\n      however, appear to have known \u201ccock-throwing,\u201d the favourite English\n      game of throwing a stick called a \u201ccock-stick\u201d at cocks. It was a\n      very ancient and very popular amusement, and was practised\n      especially on Shrove Tuesday, and by school-boys. Sir Thomas More\n      had been famous for his skill in it. (Strutt\u2019s _Sports and\n      Pastimes_, p. 283.) Three origins of it have been given:\u20141st, that\n      in the Danish wars the Saxons failed to surprise a certain city in\n      consequence of the crowing of cocks, and had in consequence a great\n      hatred of that bird; 2nd, that the cocks (_galli_) were special\n      representatives of Frenchmen, with whom the English were constantly\n      at war; and 3rd, that they were connected with the denial of St.\n      Peter. As Sir Charles Sedley said:\u2014\n\n      \u201cMayst thou be punished for St. Peter\u2019s crime,\n      And on Shrove Tuesday perish in thy prime.\u201d\n\n      Knight\u2019s _Old England_, vol. ii. p. 126.\n\n_  366 De Natura Rerum_, lib. ii.\n\n_  367 Life of Marc. Cato._\n\n  368 \u201cQuid meruere boves, animal sine fraude dolisque,\n      Innocuum, simplex, natum tolerare labores?\n      Immemor est demum nec frugum munere dignus.\n      Qui potuit curvi dempto modo pondere aratri\n      Ruricolam mactare suum.\u201d\u2014\n\n      _Metamorph._ xv. 120-124.\n\n  369 \u201cCujus\n      Turbavit nitidos extinctus passer ocellos.\u201d\n\n      Juvenal, _Sat._ vi. 7-8.\n\n      There is a little poem in Catullus (iii.) to console his mistress\n      upon the death of her favourite sparrow; and Martial more than once\n      alludes to the pets of the Roman ladies.\n\n      Compare the charming description of the Prioress, in Chaucer:\u2014\n\n      \u201cShe was so charitable and so pitous,\n      She wolde wepe if that she saw a\n      mous Caught in a trappe, if it were ded or bledde.\n      Of smale houndes had she that she fedde\n      With rosted flesh and milke and wastel brede,\n      But sore wept she if one of them were dede,\n      Or if men smote it with a yerde smert:\n      And all was conscience and tendre herte.\u201d\n\n      _Prologue to the __\u201c__Canterbury Tales.__\u201d_\n\n  370 Philost. _Apol._ i. 38.\n\n  371 See the curious chapter in his \u039a\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03b3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, xvi. and compare it with\n      No. 116 in the _Spectator_.\n\n  372 In his _De Abstinentia Carnis_. The controversy between Origen and\n      Celsus furnishes us with a very curious illustration of the\n      extravagances into which some Pagans of the third century fell about\n      animals. Celsus objected to the Christian doctrine about the\n      position of men in the universe, that many of the animals were at\n      least the equals of men both in reason, religious feeling, and\n      knowledge. (Orig. _Cont. Cels._ lib. iv.)\n\n  373 These views are chiefly defended in his two tracts on eating flesh.\n      Plutarch has also recurred to the subject, incidentally, in several\n      other works, especially in a very beautiful passage in his _Life of\n      Marcus Cato_.\n\n  374 See, for example, a striking passage in Clem. Alex. _Strom._ lib.\n      ii. St. Clement imagines Pythagoras had borrowed his sentiments on\n      this subject from Moses.\n\n  375 There is, I believe, no record of any wild beast combats existing\n      among the Jews, and the rabbinical writers have been remarkable for\n      the great emphasis with which they inculcated the duty of kindness\n      to animals. See some passages from them, cited in Wollaston,\n      _Religion of Nature_, sec. ii., note. Maimonides believed in a\n      future life for animals, to recompense them for their sufferings\n      here. (Bayle, _Dict._ art, \u201cRorarius D.\u201d) There is a curious\n      collection of the opinions of different writers on this last point\n      in a little book called the _Rights of Animals_, by William Drummond\n      (London, 1838), pp. 197-205.\n\n  376 Thus St. Paul (1 Cor. ix. 9) turned aside the precept, \u201cThou shalt\n      not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn,\u201d from its\n      natural meaning, with the contemptuous question, \u201cDoth God take care\n      for oxen?\u201d\n\n  377 I have taken these illustrations from the collection of hermit\n      literature in Rosweyde, from different volumes of the Bollandists,\n      from the _Dialogues_ of Sulpicius Severus, and from what is perhaps\n      the most interesting of all collections of saintly legends, Colgan\u2019s\n      _Acta Sanctorum Hiberni\u00e6_. M. Alfred Maury, in his most valuable\n      work, _L\u00e9gendes pieuses du Moyen Age_, has examined minutely the\n      part played by animals in symbolising virtues and vices, and has\n      shown the way in which the same incidents were repeated, with slight\n      variations, in different legends. M. de Montalembert has devoted\n      what is probably the most beautiful chapter of his _Moines\n      d\u2019Occident_ (\u201cLes Moines et la Nature\u201d) to the relations of monks to\n      the animal world; but the numerous legends he cites are all, with\n      one or two exceptions, different from those I have given.\n\n  378 Chateaubriand speaks, however (_\u00c9tudes historiques_, \u00e9tude vime, 1re\n      partie), of an old Gallic law, forbidding to throw a stone at an ox\n      attached to the plough, or to make its yoke too tight.\n\n  379 Bollandists, May 31. Leonardo da Vinci is said to have had the same\n      fondness for buying and releasing caged birds, and (to go back a\n      long way) Pythagoras to have purchased one day, near Metapontus,\n      from some fishermen all the fish in their net, that he might have\n      the pleasure of releasing them. (Apuleius, _Apologia_.)\n\n  380 See these legends collected by Hase (_St Francis. Assisi_). It is\n      said of Cardinal Bellarmine that he used to allow vermin to bite\n      him, saying, \u201cWe shall have heaven to reward us for our sufferings,\n      but these poor creatures have nothing but the enjoyment of this\n      present life.\u201d (Bayle, _Dict. philos._ art. \u201cBellarmine.\u201d)\n\n  381 I have noticed, in my _History of Rationalism_, that, although some\n      Popes did undoubtedly try to suppress Spanish bull-fights, this was\n      solely on account of the destruction of human life they caused. Full\n      details on this subject will be found in Concina, _De Spectaculis_\n      (Rom\u00e6, 1752). Bayle says, \u201cIl n\u2019y a point de casuiste qui croie\n      qu\u2019on p\u00e8che en faisant combattre des taureaux contre des dogues,\u201d\n      &c. (_Dict. philos._ \u201cRorarius, C.\u201d)\n\n  382 On the ancient amusements of England the reader may consult\n      Seymour\u2019s _Survey of London_ (1734), vol. i. pp. 227-235; Strutt\u2019s\n      _Sports and Pastimes of the English People_. Cock-fighting was a\n      favourite children\u2019s amusement in England as early as the twelfth\n      century. (Hampson\u2019s _Medii \u00c6vi Kalendarii_, vol. i. p. 160.) It was,\n      with foot-ball and several other amusements, for a time suppressed\n      by Edward III., on the ground that they were diverting the people\n      from archery, which was necessary to the military greatness of\n      England.\n\n  383 The decline of these amusements in England began with the great\n      development of the theatre under Elizabeth. An order of the Privy\n      Council in July, 1591, prohibits the exhibition of plays on\n      Thursday, because on Thursdays bear-baiting and suchlike pastimes\n      had been usually practised, and an injunction to the same effect was\n      sent to the Lord Mayor, wherein it was stated that, \u201cin divers\n      places the players do use to recite their plays, to the great hurt\n      and destruction of the game of bear-baiting and like pastimes, which\n      are maintained for Her Majesty\u2019s pleasure.\u201d\u2014Nichols, _Progresses of\n      Queen Elizabeth_ (ed. 1823), vol. i. p. 438. The reader will\n      remember the picture in _Kenilworth_ of the Earl of Sussex\n      petitioning Elizabeth against Shakespeare, on the ground of his\n      plays distracting men from bear-baiting. Elizabeth (see Nichols) was\n      extremely fond of bear-baiting. James I. especially delighted in\n      cock-fighting, and in 1610 was present at a great fight between a\n      lion and a bear. (Hone, _Every Day Book_, vol. i. pp. 255-299.) The\n      theatres, however, rapidly multiplied, and a writer who lived about\n      1629 said, \u201cthat no less than seventeen playhouses had been built in\n      or about London within threescore years.\u201d (Seymour\u2019s _Survey_, vol.\n      i. p. 229.) The Rebellion suppressed all public amusements, and when\n      they were re-established after the Restoration, it was found that\n      the tastes of the better classes no longer sympathised with the\n      bear-garden. Pepys (_Diary_, August 14, 1666) speaks of bull-baiting\n      as \u201ca very rude and nasty pleasure,\u201d and says he had not been in the\n      bear-garden for many years. Evelyn (_Diary_, June 16, 1670), having\n      been present at these shows, describes them as \u201cbutcherly sports, or\n      rather barbarous cruelties,\u201d and says he had not visited them before\n      for twenty years. A paper in the _Spectator_ (No. 141, written in\n      1711) talks of those who \u201cseek their diversion at the bear-garden,\n      ... where reason and good manners have no right to disturb them.\u201d In\n      1751, however, Lord Kames was able to say, \u201cThe bear garden, which\n      is one of the chief entertainments of the English, is held in\n      abhorrence by the French and other polite nations.\u201d\u2014_Essay on\n      Morals_ (1st ed.), p. 7; and he warmly defends (p. 30) the English\n      taste. During the latter half of the last century there was constant\n      controversy on the subject (which may be traced in the pages of the\n      _Annual Register_), and several forgotten clergymen published\n      sermons upon it, and the frequent riots resulting from the fact that\n      the bear-gardens had become the resort of the worst classes assisted\n      the movement. The London magistrates took measures to suppress\n      cock-throwing in 1769 (Hampson\u2019s _Med. \u00c6v. Kalend._ p. 160); but\n      bull-baiting continued far into the present century. Windham and\n      Canning strongly defended it; Dr. Parr is said to have been fond of\n      it (_Southey\u2019s Commonplace Book_, vol. iv. p. 585); and as late as\n      1824, Sir Robert (then Mr) Peel argued strongly against its\n      prohibition. (_Parliamentary Debates_, vol. x. pp. 132-133,\n      491-495.)\n\n  384 Bacon, in an account of the deficiencies of medicine, recommends\n      vivisection in terms that seem to imply that it was not practised in\n      his time. \u201cAs for the passages and pores, it is true, which was\n      anciently noted, that the more subtle of them appear not in\n      anatomies, because they are shut and latent in dead bodies, though\n      they be open and manifest in live; which being supposed, though the\n      inhumanity of _anatomia vivorum_ was by Celsus justly reproved, yet,\n      in regard of the great use of this observation, the enquiry needed\n      not by him so slightly to have been relinquished altogether, or\n      referred to the casual practices of surgery; but might have been\n      well diverted upon the dissection of beasts alive, which,\n      notwithstanding the dissimilitude of their parts, may sufficiently\n      satisfy this enquiry.\u201d\u2014_Advancement of Learning_, x. 4. Harvey\n      speaks of vivisections as having contributed to lead him to the\n      discovery of the circulation of the blood. (Acland\u2019s _Harveian\n      Oration_ (1865), p. 55.) Bayle, describing the treatment of animals\n      by men, says, \u201cNous fouillons dans leurs entrailles pendant leur vie\n      afin de satisfaire notre curiosit\u00e9.\u201d\u2014_Dict. philos._ art. \u201cRorarius,\n      C.\u201d Public opinion in England was very strongly directed to the\n      subject in the present century, by the atrocious cruelties\n      perpetrated by Majendie at his lectures. See a most frightful\n      account of them in a speech by Mr. Martin (an eccentric Irish\n      member, who was generally ridiculed during his life, and has been\n      almost forgotten since his death, but to whose untiring exertions\n      the legislative protection of animals in England is\n      due).\u2014_Parliament. Hist._ vol. xii. p. 652. Mandeville, in his day,\n      was a very strong advocate of kindness to animals.\u2014_Commentary on\n      the Fable of the Bees._\n\n  385 See his _Life_ by Sulpicius Severus.\n\n  386 Milman.\n\n  387 Greg. Turon. ii. 29.\n\n  388 This was the first step towards the conversion of the\n      Bulgarians.\u2014Milman\u2019s _Latin Christianity_, vol. iii. p. 249.\n\n  389 A remarkable collection of instances of this kind is given by\n      Ozanam, _Civilisation in the Fifth Century_ (Eng. trans.), vol. i.\n      pp. 124-127.\n\n  390 St. Gregory, _Dial._ iii. 7. The particular temptation the Jew heard\n      discussed was that of the bishop of the diocese, who, under the\n      instigation of one of the d\u00e6mons, was rapidly falling in love with a\n      nun, and had proceeded so far as jocosely to stroke her on the back.\n      The Jew, having related the vision to the bishop, the latter\n      reformed his manners, the Jew became a Christian, and the temple was\n      turned into a church.\n\n  391 William of Malmesbury, ii. 13.\n\n  392 See Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 293.\n\n  393 Cassian. _C\u0153nob. Instit._ v. 4. See, too, some striking instances of\n      this in the life of St. Antony.\n\n  394 This spiritual pride is well noticed by Neander, _Ecclesiastical\n      History_ (Bohn\u2019s ed.), vol. iii. pp. 321-323. It appears in many\n      traits scattered through the lives of these saints. I have already\n      cited the visions telling St. Antony and St. Macarius that they were\n      not the best of living people; and also the case of the hermit, who\n      was deceived by a devil in the form of a woman, because he had been\n      exalted by pride. Another hermit, being very holy, received pure\n      white bread every day from heaven, but, being extravagantly elated,\n      the bread got worse and worse till it became perfectly black.\n      (Tillemont, tome x. pp. 27-28.) A certain Isidore affirmed that he\n      had not been conscious of sin, even in thought, for forty years.\n      (Socrates, iv. 23.) It was a saying of St. Antony, that a solitary\n      man in the desert is free from three wars\u2014of sight, speech, and\n      hearing: he has to combat only fornication. (_Apothegmata Patrum._)\n\n  395 \u201cPride, under such training [that of modern rationalistic\n      philosophy], instead of running to waste, is turned to account. It\n      gets a new name; it is called self-respect.... It is directed into\n      the channel of industry, frugality, honesty, and obedience, and it\n      becomes the very staple of the religion and morality held in honour\n      in a day like our own. It becomes the safeguard of chastity, the\n      guarantee of veracity, in high and low; it is the very household god\n      of the Protestant, inspiring neatness and decency in the\n      servant-girl, propriety of carriage and refined manners in her\n      mistress, uprightness, manliness, and generosity in the head of the\n      family.... It is the stimulating principle of providence on the one\n      hand, and of free expenditure on the other; of an honourable\n      ambition and of elegant enjoyment.\u201d\u2014Newman, _On University\n      Education_, Discourse ix. In the same lecture (which is, perhaps,\n      the most beautiful of the many beautiful productions of its\n      illustrious author), Dr. Newman describes, with admirable eloquence,\n      the manner in which modesty has supplanted humility in the modern\n      type of excellence. It is scarcely necessary to say that the\n      lecturer strongly disapproves of the movement he describes.\n\n  396 Thus \u201cindagatio veri\u201d was reckoned among the leading virtues, and\n      the high place given to \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1 and \u201cprudentia\u201d in ethical writings\n      preserved the notion of the moral duties connected with the\n      discipline of the intellect.\n\n  397 St. Augustine reckoned eighty-eight sects as existing in his time.\n\n  398 See a full account of these persecutions in Tillemont, _M\u00e9m.\n      d\u2019Histoire eccl\u00e9s._ tome vi.\n\n  399 Socrates, _H. E._, iv. 16. This anecdote is much doubted by modern\n      historians.\n\n  400 Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Christianity_ (ed. 1867), vol. ii. p. 422.\n\n  401 St. Athanasius, _Historical Treatises_ (Library of the Fathers), pp.\n      192, 284.\n\n  402 Milman, _Hist. of Christianity_, ii. pp. 436-437.\n\n  403 The death of Arius, as is well known, took place suddenly (his\n      bowels, it is said, coming out) when he was just about to make his\n      triumphal entry into the Cathedral of Constantinople. The death\n      (though possibly natural) never seems to have been regarded as such,\n      but it was a matter of controversy whether it was a miracle or a\n      murder.\n\n  404 Socrates, _H. E._, vii. 13-15.\n\n  405 Milman, _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. i. pp. 214-215.\n\n  406 Milman, _Hist. of Christianity_, vol. iii. p. 145.\n\n  407 Milman, _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. i. pp. 290-291.\n\n  408 Ibid. vol. i. pp. 310-311.\n\n  409 Milman, _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. i. pp. 314-318. Dean\n      Milman thus sums up the history: \u201cMonks in Alexandria, monks in\n      Antioch, monks in Jerusalem, monks in Constantinople, decide\n      peremptorily on orthodoxy and heterodoxy. The bishops themselves\n      cower before them. Macedonius in Constantinople, Flavianus in\n      Antioch, Elias in Jerusalem, condemn themselves and abdicate, or are\n      driven from their sees. Persecution is universal\u2014persecution by\n      every means of violence and cruelty; the only question is, in whose\n      hands is the power to persecute.... Bloodshed, murder, treachery,\n      assassination, even during the public worship of God\u2014these are the\n      frightful means by which each party strives to maintain its opinions\n      and to defeat its adversary.\u201d\n\n  410 See a striking passage from Julianus of Eclana, cited by Milman,\n      _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. i. p. 164.\n\n  411 \u201cNowhere is Christianity less attractive than in the Councils of the\n      Church.... Intrigue, injustice, violence, decisions on authority\n      alone, and that the authority of a turbulent majority, ... detract\n      from the reverence and impugn the judgments of at least the later\n      Councils. The close is almost invariably a terrible anathema, in\n      which it is impossible not to discern the tones of human hatred, of\n      arrogant triumph, of rejoicing at the damnation imprecated against\n      the humiliated adversary.\u201d\u2014Ibid. vol. i. p. 202.\n\n  412 See the account of this scene in Gibbon, _Decline and Fall_, ch.\n      xlvii.; Milman, _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. i. p. 263. There\n      is a conflict of authorities as to whether the Bishop of Alexandria\n      himself kicked his adversary, or, to speak more correctly, the act\n      which is charged against him by some contemporary writers is not\n      charged against him by others. The violence was certainly done by\n      his followers and in his presence.\n\n  413 Ammianus Marcellinus, xxvii. 3.\n\n  414 Cyprian, _Ep._ lxi.\n\n  415 Milman, _Hist. of Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 306.\n\n  416 Ibid. iii. 10.\n\n  417 \u201cBy this time the Old Testament language and sentiment with regard\n      to idolatry were completely incorporated with the Christian feeling;\n      and when Ambrose enforced on a Christian Emperor the sacred duty of\n      intolerance against opinions and practices which scarcely a century\n      before had been the established religion of the Empire, his zeal was\n      supported by almost the unanimous applause of the Christian\n      world.\u201d\u2014Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Christianity_, vol. iii. p. 159.\n\n  418 See the Theodosian laws of Paganism.\n\n  419 This appears from the whole history of the controversy; but the\n      prevailing feeling is, I think, expressed with peculiar vividness in\n      the following passage:\u2014\u201cEadmer says (following the words of Bede) in\n      Colman\u2019s times there was a sharp controversy about the observing of\n      Easter, and other rules of life for churchmen; therefore, this\n      question deservedly excited the minds and feeling of many people,\n      fearing lest, perhaps, after having received the name of Christians,\n      they should run, or had run in vain.\u201d\u2014King\u2019s _Hist. of the Church of\n      Ireland_, book ii. ch. vi.\n\n  420 Gibbon, chap. lxiii.\n\n  421 An interesting sketch of this very interesting prelate has lately\n      been written by M. Druon, _\u00c9tude sur la Vie et les \u0152uvres de\n      Syn\u00e9sius_ (Paris, 1859).\n\n  422 Tradition has pronounced Gregory the Great to have been the\n      destroyer of the Palatine library, and to have been especially\n      zealous in burning the writings of Livy, because they described the\n      achievements of the Pagan gods. For these charges, however (which I\n      am sorry to find repeated by so eminent a writer as Dr. Draper),\n      there is no real evidence, for they are not found in any writer\n      earlier than the twelfth century. (See Bayle, _Dict._ art. \u201cGreg.\u201d)\n      The extreme contempt of Gregory for Pagan literature is, however,\n      sufficiently manifested in his famous and very curious letter to\n      Desiderius, Bishop of Vienne, rebuking him for having taught certain\n      persons Pagan literature, and thus mingled \u201cthe praises of Jupiter\n      with the praises of Christ;\u201d doing what would be impious even for a\n      religious layman, \u201cpolluting the mind with the blasphemous praises\n      of the wicked.\u201d Some curious evidence of the feelings of the\n      Christians of the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries, about Pagan\n      literature, is given in Guinguen\u00e9, _Hist. litt\u00e9raire de l\u2019Italie_,\n      tome i. p. 29-31, and some legends of a later period are candidly\n      related by one of the most enthusiastic English advocates of the\n      Middle Ages. (Maitland, _Dark Ages_.)\n\n  423 Probably the best account of the intellectual history of these times\n      is still to be found in the admirable introductory chapters with\n      which the Benedictines prefaced each century of their _Hist.\n      litt\u00e9raire de la France_. The Benedictines think (with Hallam) that\n      the eighth century was, on the whole, the darkest on the continent,\n      though England attained its lowest point somewhat later. Of the\n      great protectors of learning Theodoric was unable to write (see\n      Guinguen\u00e9, tome i. p. 31), and Charlemagne (Eginhard) only began to\n      learn when advanced in life, and was never quite able to master the\n      accomplishment. Alfred, however, was distinguished in literature.\n\n  424 The belief that the world was just about to end was, as is well\n      known, very general among the early Christians, and greatly affected\n      their lives. It appears in the New Testament, and very clearly in\n      the epistle ascribed to Barnabas in the first century. The\n      persecutions of the second and third centuries revived it, and both\n      Tertullian and Cyprian (_in Demetrianum_) strongly assert it. With\n      the triumph of Christianity the apprehension for a time subsided;\n      but it reappeared with great force when the dissolution of the\n      Empire was manifestly impending, when it was accomplished, and in\n      the prolonged anarchy and suffering that ensued. Gregory of Tours,\n      writing in the latter part of the sixth century, speaks of it as\n      very prevalent (_Prologue to the First Book_); and St. Gregory the\n      Great, about the same time, constantly expresses it. The panic that\n      filled Europe at the end of the tenth century has been often\n      described.\n\n  425 Maitland\u2019s _Dark Ages_, p. 403.\n\n  426 This passion for scraping MSS. became common, according to\n      Montfaucon, after the twelfth century. (Maitland, p. 40.) According\n      to Hallam, however (_Middle Ages_, ch. ix. part i.), it must have\n      begun earlier, being chiefly caused by the cessation or great\n      diminution of the supply of Egyptian papyrus, in consequence of the\n      capture of Alexandria by the Saracens, early in the seventh century.\n\n  427 Bede, _H. E._ iv. 24.\n\n  428 Mariana, _De Rebus Hispani\u00e6_, vi. 7. Mariana says the stone was in\n      his time preserved as a relic.\n\n  429 Odericus Vitalis, quoted by Maitland (_Dark Ages_, pp. 268-269). The\n      monk was restored to life that he might have an opportunity of\n      reformation. The escape was a narrow one, for there was only one\n      letter against which no sin could be adduced\u2014a remarkable instance\n      of the advantages of a diffuse style.\n\n  430 Digby, _Mores Catholici_, book x. p. 246. Matthew of Westminster\n      tells of a certain king who was very charitable, and whose right\n      hand (which had assuaged many sorrows) remained undecayed after\n      death (A.D. 644).\n\n  431 See Haur\u00e9au, _Hist. de la Philosophie scolastique_, tome i. pp.\n      24-25.\n\n  432 On the progress of Roman civilisation in Britain, see Tacitus,\n      _Agricola_, xxi.\n\n  433 See the Benedictine _Hist. litt\u00e9r. de la France_, tome i. part ii.\n      p. 9.\n\n  434 A biographer of St. Thomas Aquinas modestly observes:\u2014\u201cL\u2019opinion\n      g\u00e9n\u00e9ralement r\u00e9pandue parmi les th\u00e9ologiens c\u2019est que la _Somme de\n      Th\u00e9ologie_ de St. Thomas est non-seulement son chef-d\u2019\u0153uvre mais\n      aussi celui de l\u2019esprit humain.\u201d (!!)\u2014Carle, _Hist. de St.-Thomas\n      d\u2019Aquin_, p. 140.\n\n  435 See Viardot, _Hist. des Arabes en Espagne_, ii. 142-166. Prescott\u2019s\n      _Ferdinand and Isabella_, ch. viii. Viardot contends that the\n      compass\u2014which appears to have been long known in China\u2014was first\n      introduced into Europe by the Mohammedans; but the evidence of this\n      appears inconclusive.\n\n  436 Herder.\n\n  437 \u201cImpius ne audeto placare donis iram Deorum.\u201d\u2014Cicero, _De Leg._ ii.\n      9. See, too, Philost. _Apoll. Tyan._ i. 11.\n\n  438 There are three or four instances of this related by Porphyry, _De\n      Abstin. Carnis_, lib. ii.\n\n  439 Muratori, _Antich. Italiane_, diss. lxvii.\n\n  440 See, on the causes of the wealth of the monasteries, two admirable\n      dissertations by Muratori, _Antich. Italiane_, lxvii., lxviii.;\n      Hallam\u2019s _Middle Ages_, ch. vii. part i.\n\n  441 \u201cLors de l\u2019\u00e9tablissement du christianisme la religion avoit\n      essentiellement consist\u00e9 dans l\u2019enseignement moral; elle avoit\n      exerc\u00e9 les c\u0153urs et les \u00e2mes par la recherche de ce qui \u00e9toit\n      vraiment beau, vraiment honn\u00eate. Au cinqui\u00e8me si\u00e8cle on l\u2019avoit\n      surtout attach\u00e9e \u00e0 l\u2019orthodoxie, au septi\u00e8me on l\u2019avoit r\u00e9duite \u00e0 la\n      bienfaisance envers les couvens.\u201d\u2014Sismondi, _Hist. des Fran\u00e7ais_,\n      tome ii. p. 50.\n\n  442 Mr. Hallam, speaking of the legends of the miracles of saints, says:\n      \u201cIt must not be supposed that these absurdities were produced as\n      well as nourished by ignorance. In most cases they were the work of\n      deliberate imposture. Every cathedral or monastery had its tutelar\n      saint, and every saint his legend, fabricated in order to enrich the\n      churches under his protection, by exaggerating his virtues, his\n      miracles, and consequently his power of serving those who paid\n      liberally for his patronage.\u201d\u2014_Middle Ages_, ch. ix. part i. I do\n      not think this passage makes sufficient allowance for the\n      unconscious formation of many saintly myths, but no impartial person\n      can doubt its substantial truth.\n\n  443 Sismondi, _Hist. des Fran\u00e7ais_, tome ii. pp. 54, 62-63.\n\n  444 Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. ii. p. 257.\n\n  445 Durandus, a French bishop of the thirteenth century, tells how,\n      \u201cwhen a certain bishop was consecrating a church built out of the\n      fruits of usury and pillage, he saw behind the altar the devil in a\n      pontifical vestment, standing at the bishop\u2019s throne, who said unto\n      the bishop, \u2018Cease from consecrating the church; for it pertaineth\n      to my jurisdiction, since it is built from the fruits of usuries and\n      robberies.\u2019 Then the bishop and the clergy having fled thence in\n      fear, immediately the devil destroyed that church with a great\n      noise.\u201d\u2014_Rationale Divinorum_, i. 6 (translated for the Camden\n      Society).\n\n      A certain St. Launomar is said to have refused a gift for his\n      monastery from a rapacious noble, because he was sure it was derived\n      from pillage. (Montalembert\u2019s _Moines d\u2019Occident_, tome ii. pp.\n      350-351.) When prostitutes were converted in the early Church, it\n      was the rule that the money of which they had become possessed\n      should never be applied to ecclesiastical purposes, but should be\n      distributed among the poor.\n\n_  446 Verba Seniorum_, Prol. \u00a7 172.\n\n  447 This vision is not related by St. Gregory himself, and some\n      Catholics are perplexed about it, on account of the vision of\n      another saint, who afterwards asked whether Trajan was saved, and\n      received for answer, \u201cI wish men to rest in ignorance of this\n      subject, that the Catholics may become stronger. For this emperor,\n      though he had great virtues, was an unbaptised infidel.\u201d The whole\n      subject of the vision of St. Gregory is discussed by Champagny, _Les\n      Antonins_, tome i. pp. 372-373. This devout writer says, \u201cCette\n      l\u00e9gende fut accept\u00e9e par tout le moyen-\u00e2ge, _indulgent pour les\n      pa\u00efens illustres_ et tout dispos\u00e9 \u00e0 les supposer chr\u00e9tiens et\n      sauv\u00e9s.\u201d\n\n  448 See the solemn asseveration of the care which he took in going only\n      to the most credible and authorised sources for his materials, in\n      the Preface to the First Book of _Dialogues_.\n\n_  449 Dial._ iv. 36.\n\n  450 Ibid. iv. 30.\n\n  451 Ibid. iv. 35.\n\n  452 The fullest collection of these visions with which I am acquainted\n      is that made for the Philobiblion Society (vol. ix.), by M.\n      Delepierre, called _L\u2019Enfer d\u00e9crit par ceux qui l\u2019ont vu_, of which\n      I have largely availed myself. See, too, Rusca _De Inferno_,\n      Wright\u2019s _Purgatory of St. Patrick_, and an interesting collection\n      of visions given by Mr. Longfellow, in his translation of Dante. The\n      Irish saints were, I am sorry to say, prominent in producing this\n      branch of literature. St. Fursey, whose vision is one of the\n      earliest, and Tondale, or Tundale, whose vision is one of the most\n      detailed, were both Irish. The English historians contain several of\n      these visions. Bede relates two or three\u2014William of Malmesbury that\n      of Charles the Fat; Matthew Paris three visions of purgatory.\n\n  453 The narrow bridge over hell (in some visions covered with spikes),\n      which is a conspicuous feature in the Mohammedan pictures of the\n      future world, appears very often in Catholic visions. See Greg. Tur.\n      iv. 33; St. Greg. _Dial._ iv. 36; and the vision of Tundale, in\n      Delepierre.\n\n  454 Few Englishmen, I imagine, are aware of the infamous publications\n      written with this object, that are circulated by the Catholic\n      priests among the poor. I have before me a tract \u201cfor children and\n      young persons,\u201d called _The Sight of Hell_, by the Rev. J. Furniss,\n      C.S.S.R., published \u201cpermissu superiorum,\u201d by Duffy (Dublin and\n      London). It is a detailed description of the dungeons of hell, and a\n      few sentences may serve as a sample. \u201cSee! on the middle of that\n      red-hot floor stands a girl; she looks about sixteen years old. Her\n      feet are bare. She has neither shoes nor stockings.... Listen! she\n      speaks. She says, I have been standing on this red-hot floor for\n      years. Day and night my only standing-place has been this red-hot\n      floor.... Look at my burnt and bleeding feet. Let me go off this\n      burning floor for one moment, only for one single short moment....\n      The fourth dungeon is the boiling kettle ... in the middle of it\n      there is a boy.... His eyes are burning like two burning coals. Two\n      long flames come out of his ears.... Sometimes he opens his mouth,\n      and blazing fire rolls out. But listen! there is a sound like a\n      kettle boiling.... The blood is boiling in the scalded veins of that\n      boy. The brain is boiling and bubbling in his head. The marrow is\n      boiling in his bones.... The fifth dungeon is the red-hot oven....\n      The little child is in this red-hot oven. Hear how it screams to\n      come out. See how it turns and twists itself about in the fire. It\n      beats its head against the roof of the oven. It stamps its little\n      feet on the floor.... God was very good to this child. Very likely\n      God saw it would get worse and worse, and would never repent, and so\n      it would have to be punished much more in hell. So God in His mercy\n      called it out of the world in its early childhood.\u201d If the reader\n      desires to follow this subject further, he may glance over a\n      companion tract by the same reverend gentleman, called _A Terrible\n      Judgment on a Little Child_; and also a book on _Hell_, translated\n      from the Italian of Pinamonti, and with illustrations depicting the\n      various tortures.\n\n  455 St. Greg. _Dial._ iv. 38.\n\n  456 Ibid. iv. 18.\n\n  457 Alger\u2019s _History of the Doctrine of a Future Life_ (New York, 1866),\n      p. 414. The ignis fatuus was sometimes supposed to be the soul of an\n      unbaptised child. There is, I believe, another Catholic legend about\n      the redbreast, of a very different kind\u2014that its breast was stained\n      with blood when it was trying to pull out the thorns from the crown\n      of Christ.\n\n  458 Wright\u2019s _Purgatory of St. Patrick_, p. 26. M. Delepierre quotes a\n      curious theory of Father Hardouin (who is chiefly known for his\n      suggestion that the classics were composed by the medi\u00e6val monks)\n      that the rotation of the earth is caused by the lost souls trying to\n      escape from the fire that is at the centre of the globe, climbing,\n      in consequence, on the inner crust of the earth, which is the wall\n      of hell, and thus making the whole revolve, as the squirrel by\n      climbing turns its cage! (_L\u2019Enfer d\u00e9crit par ceux qui l\u2019ont vu_, p.\n      151.)\n\n  459 Delepierre, p. 70.\n\n  460 Thus, in a book which was attributed (it is said erroneously) to\n      Jeremy Taylor, we find two singularly unrhetorical and unimpassioned\n      chapters, deliberately enumerating the most atrocious acts of\n      cruelty in human history, and maintaining that they are surpassed by\n      the tortures inflicted by the Deity. A few instances will suffice.\n      Certain persons \u201cput rings of iron, stuck full of sharp points of\n      needles, about their arms and feet, in such a manner as the\n      prisoners could not move without wounding themselves; then they\n      compassed them about with fire, to the end that, standing still,\n      they might be burnt alive, and if they stirred the sharp points\n      pierced their flesh.... What, then, shall be the torment of the\n      damned where they shall burn eternally without dying, and without\n      possibility of removing?... Alexander, the son of Hyrcanus, caused\n      eight hundred to be crucified, and whilst they were yet alive caused\n      their wives and children to be murdered before their eyes, that so\n      they might not die once, but many deaths. This rigour shall not be\n      wanting in hell.... Mezentius tied a living body to a dead until the\n      putrefied exhalations of the dead had killed the living.... What is\n      this in respect of hell, when each body of the damned is more\n      loathsome and unsavoury than a million of dead dogs?... Bonaventure\n      says, if one of the damned were brought into this world it were\n      sufficient to infect the whole earth.... We are amazed to think of\n      the inhumanity of Phalaris, who roasted men alive in his brazen\n      bull. That was a joy in respect of that fire of hell.... This\n      torment ... comprises as many torments as the body of man has\n      joints, sinews, arteries, &c., being caused by that penetrating and\n      real fire, of which this temporal fire is but a painted fire....\n      What comparison will there be between burning for a hundred years\u2019\n      space, and to be burning without interruption as long as God is\n      God?\u201d\u2014_Contemplations on the State of Man_, book ii. ch. 6-7, in\n      Heber\u2019s Edition of the works of Taylor.\n\n  461 Perrone, _Histori\u00e6 Theologi\u00e6 cum Philosophia comparata Synopsis_, p.\n      29. Peter Lombard\u2019s work was published in A.D. 1160.\n\n  462 \u201cPostremo qu\u00e6ritur, An p\u0153na reproborum visa decoloret gloriam\n      beatorum? an eorum beatitudini proficiat? De hoc ita Gregorius ait,\n      Apud animum justorum non obfuscat beatitudinem aspecta p\u0153na\n      reproborum; quia ubi jam compassio miseri\u00e6 non erit, minuere\n      beatorum l\u00e6titiam non valebit. Et licet justis sua gaudia\n      sufficiant, ad majorem gloriam vident p\u0153nas malorum quas per gratiam\n      evaserunt.... Egredientur ergo electi, non loco, sed intelligentia\n      vel visione manifesta ad videndum impiorum cruciatus; quos videntes\n      non dolore afficientur sed l\u00e6titia satiabuntur, agentes gratias de\n      sua liberatione visa impiorum ineffabili calamitate. Unde Esaias\n      impiorum tormenta describens et ex eorum visione l\u00e6titiam bonorum\n      exprimens, ait, Egredientur electi scilicet et videbunt cadavera\n      virorum qui pr\u00e6varicati sunt in me. Vermis eorum non morietur et\n      ignis non extinguetur, et erunt usque ad satietatem visionis omni\n      carni, id est electis. L\u00e6tabitur justus cum viderit\n      vindictam.\u201d\u2014Peter Lombard, _Senten._ lib. iv. finis. These amiable\n      views have often been expressed both by Catholic and by Puritan\n      divines. See Alger\u2019s _Doctrine of a Future Life_, p. 541.\n\n_  463 Legenda Aurea._ There is a curious fresco representing this\n      transaction, on the portal of the church of St. Lorenzo, near Rome.\n\n  464 Aimoni, _De Gestis Francorum Hist._ iv. 34.\n\n  465 Turpin\u2019s _Chronicle_, ch. 32. In the vision of Watlin, however (A.D.\n      824), Charlemagne was seen tortured in purgatory on account of his\n      excessive love of women. (Delepierre, _L\u2019Enfer d\u00e9crit par ceux qui\n      l\u2019ont vu_, pp. 27-28.)\n\n  466 As the Abb\u00e9 Mably observes: \u201cOn croyoit en quelque sorte dans ces\n      si\u00e8cles grossiers que l\u2019avarice \u00e9toit le premier attribut de Dieu,\n      et que les saints faisoient un commerce de leur cr\u00e9dit et de leur\n      protection. De-l\u00e0 les richesses immenses donn\u00e9es aux \u00e9glises par des\n      hommes dont les m\u0153urs d\u00e9shonoroient la religion.\u201d\u2014_Observations sur\n      l\u2019Hist. de France_, i. 4.\n\n  467 Many curious examples of the way in which the Troubadours burlesqued\n      the monkish visions of hell are given by Delepierre, p.\n      144.\u2014Wright\u2019s _Purgatory of St. Patrick_, pp. 47-52.\n\n  468 Comte, _Philosophie positive_, tome v. p. 269.\n\n  469 \u201cSaint-Bernard, dans son sermon _De obitu Humberti_, affirme que\n      tous les tourments de cette vie sont joies si on les compare \u00e0 une\n      seconde des peines du purgatoire. \u2018Imaginez-vous donc, d\u00e9licates\n      dames,\u2019 dit le p\u00e8re Valladier (1613) dans son sermon du 3me dimanche\n      de l\u2019Avent, \u2018d\u2019estre au travers de vos chenets, sur vostre petit feu\n      pour une centaine d\u2019ans: ce n\u2019est rien au respect d\u2019un moment de\n      purgatoire. Mais si vous vistes jamais tirer quelqu\u2019un \u00e0 quatre\n      chevaux, quelqu\u2019un brusler \u00e0 petit feu, enrager de faim ou de soif,\n      une heure de purgatoire est pire que tout cela.\u2019 \u201d\u2014Meray, _Les\n      Libres Pr\u00eacheurs_ (Paris, 1860), pp. 130-131 (an extremely curious\n      and suggestive book). I now take up the first contemporary book of\n      popular Catholic devotion on this subject which is at hand, and\n      read: \u201cCompared with the pains of purgatory, then, all those wounds\n      and dark prisons, all those wild beasts, hooks of iron, red-hot\n      plates, &c., which the holy martyrs suffered, are nothing.\u201d \u201cThey\n      (souls in purgatory) are in a real, though miraculous manner,\n      tortured by fire, which is of the same kind (says Bellarmine) as our\n      element fire.\u201d \u201cThe Angelic Doctor affirms \u2018that the fire which\n      torments the damned is like the fire which purges the elect.\u2019 \u201d\n      \u201cWhat agony will not those holy souls suffer when tied and bound\n      with the most tormenting chains of a living fire like to that of\n      hell! and we, while able to make them free and happy, shall we stand\n      like uninterested spectators?\u201d \u201cSt. Austin is of opinion that the\n      pains of a soul in purgatory during the time required to open and\n      shut one\u2019s eye is more severe than what St. Lawrence suffered on the\n      gridiron;\u201d and much more to the same effect. (_Purgatory opened to\n      the Piety of the Faithful._ Richardson, London.)\n\n  470 See Delepierre, Wright, and Alger.\n\n  471 This appears from the vision of Thurcill. (Wright\u2019s _Purgatory of\n      St. Patrick_, p. 42.) Brompton (_Chronicon_) tells of an English\n      landlord who had refused to pay tithes. St. Augustine, having vainly\n      reasoned with him, at last convinced him by a miracle. Before\n      celebrating mass he ordered all excommunicated persons to leave the\n      church, whereupon a corpse got out of a grave and walked away. The\n      corpse, on being questioned, said it was the body of an ancient\n      Briton who refused to pay tithes, and had in consequence been\n      excommunicated and damned.\n\n  472 Greg. _Dial._ iv. 40.\n\n  473 As Sismondi says: \u201cPendant quatre-vingts ans, tout au moins, il n\u2019y\n      eut pas un Franc qui songe\u00e2t \u00e0 transmettre \u00e0 la post\u00e9rit\u00e9 la m\u00e9moire\n      des \u00e9v\u00e9nements contemporains, et pendant le m\u00eame espace de temps il\n      n\u2019y eut pas un personnage puissant qui ne b\u00e2tit des temples pour la\n      post\u00e9rit\u00e9 la plus recul\u00e9e.\u201d\u2014_Hist. des Fran\u00e7ais_, tome ii. p. 46.\n\n  474 Gibbon says of the period during which the Merovingian dynasty\n      reigned, that \u201cit would be difficult to find anywhere more vice or\n      less virtue.\u201d Hallam reproduces this observation, and adds: \u201cThe\n      facts of these times are of little other importance than as they\n      impress on the mind a thorough notion of the extreme wickedness of\n      almost every person concerned in them, and consequently of the state\n      to which society was reduced.\u201d\u2014_Hist. of the Middle Ages_, ch. i.\n      Dean Milman is equally unfavourable and emphatic in his judgment.\n      \u201cIt is difficult to conceive a more dark and odious state of society\n      than that of France under her Merovingian kings, the descendants of\n      Clovis, as described by Gregory of Tours. In the conflict of\n      barbarism with Roman Christianity, barbarism has introduced into\n      Christianity all its ferocity with none of its generosity and\n      magnanimity; its energy shows itself in atrocity of cruelty, and\n      even of sensuality. Christianity has given to barbarism hardly more\n      than its superstition and its hatred of heretics and unbelievers.\n      Throughout, assassinations, parricides, and fratricides intermingle\n      with adulteries and rapes.\u201d\u2014_History of Latin Christianity_, vol. i.\n      p. 365.\n\n  475 Greg. Tur. iv. 12. Gregory mentions (v. 41) another bishop who used\n      to become so intoxicated as to be unable to stand; and St. Boniface,\n      after describing the extreme sensuality of the clergy of his time,\n      adds that there are some bishops \u201cqui licet dicant se fornicarios\n      vel adulteros non esse, sed sunt ebriosi et injuriosi,\u201d &c.\u2014_Ep._\n      xlix.\n\n  476 Greg. Tur. iv. 12.\n\n  477 Ibid. viii. 29. She gave them knives with hollow grooves, filled\n      with poison, in the blades.\n\n  478 Ibid. vii. 20.\n\n  479 Ibid. viii. 31-41.\n\n  480 Ibid. v. 19.\n\n  481 See his very curious correspondence with her.\u2014_Ep._ vi. 5, 50, 59;\n      ix. 11, 117; xi. 62-63.\n\n  482 Avitus, _Ep._ v. He adds: \u201cMinuebat regni felicitas numerum regalium\n      personarum.\u201d\n\n  483 See the emphatic testimony of St. Boniface in the eighth century.\n      \u201cModo autem maxima ex parte per civitates episcopales sedes tradit\u00e6\n      sunt laicis cupidis ad possidendum, vel adulteratis clericis,\n      scortatoribus et publicanis s\u00e6culariter ad perfruendum.\u201d\u2014_Epist._\n      xlix. \u201cad Zachariam.\u201d The whole epistle contains an appalling\n      picture of the clerical vices of the times.\n\n  484 More than one Council made decrees about this. See the _Vie de St.\n      L\u00e9ger_, by Dom Pitra, pp. 172-177.\n\n  485 Greg. Tur. iv. 43. St. Boniface, at a much later period (A.D. 742),\n      talks of bishops \u201cQui pugnant in exercitu armati et effundunt\n      propria manu sanguinem hominum.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ xlix.\n\n  486 Greg. Tur. iv. 26.\n\n  487 Ibid. iv. 20.\n\n  488 Ibid. iii. 26.\n\n  489 Ibid. ix. 34.\n\n  490 Ibid. viii. 19. Gregory says this story should warn clergymen not to\n      meddle with the wives of other people, but \u201ccontent themselves with\n      those that they may possess without crime.\u201d The abbot had previously\n      tried to seduce the husband within the precincts of the monastery,\n      that he might murder him.\n\n  491 Ibid. v. 3.\n\n  492 Ibid. viii. 39. She was guilty of many other crimes, which the\n      historian says \u201cit is better to pass in silence.\u201d The bishop himself\n      had been guilty of outrageous and violent tyranny. The marriage of\n      ecclesiastics appears at this time to have been common in Gaul,\n      though the best men commonly deserted their wives when they were\n      ordained. Another bishop\u2019s wife (iv. 36) was notorious for her\n      tyranny.\n\n  493 Fredigarius, xlii. The historian describes Clotaire as a perfect\n      paragon of Christian graces.\n\n  494 \u201cAu sixi\u00e8me si\u00e8cle on compte 214 \u00e9tablissements religieux des\n      Pyr\u00e9n\u00e9es \u00e0 la Loire et des bouches du Rh\u00f4ne aux Vosges.\u201d\u2014Ozanam,\n      _\u00c9tudes germaniques_, tome ii. p. 93. In the two following centuries\n      the ecclesiastical wealth was enormously increased.\n\n  495 Matthew of Westminster (A.D. 757) speaks of no less than eight Saxon\n      kings having done this.\n\n  496 \u201cLe septi\u00e8me si\u00e8cle est celui peut-\u00eatre qui a donn\u00e9 le plus de\n      saints au calendrier.\u201d\u2014Sismondi, _Hist. de France_, tome ii. p. 50.\n      \u201cLe plus beau titre du septi\u00e8me si\u00e8cle \u00e0 une r\u00e9habilitation c\u2019est le\n      nombre consid\u00e9rable de saints qu\u2019il a produits.... Aucun si\u00e8cle n\u2019a\n      \u00e9t\u00e9 ainsi glorifi\u00e9 sauf l\u2019\u00e2ge des martyrs dont Dieu s\u2019est r\u00e9serv\u00e9 de\n      compter le nombre. Chaque ann\u00e9e fournit sa moisson, chaque jour a sa\n      gerbe.... Si donc il pla\u00eet \u00e0 Dieu et au Christ de r\u00e9pandre \u00e0 pleines\n      mains sur un si\u00e8cle les splendeurs des saints, qu\u2019importe que\n      l\u2019histoire et la gloire humaine en tiennent peu compte?\u201d\u2014Pitra, _Vie\n      de St. L\u00e9ger_, Introd. p. x.-xi. This learned and very credulous\n      writer (who is now a cardinal) afterwards says that we have the\n      record of more than eight hundred saints of the seventh century.\n      (Introd. p. lxxx.)\n\n  497 See, e.g., the very touching passage about the death of his\n      children, v. 35.\n\n  498 Lib. ii. Prologue.\n\n  499 Greg. Tur. ii. 27-43.\n\n  500 He observes how impossible it was that he could be guilty of\n      shedding the blood of a relation: \u201cSed in his ego nequaquam conscius\n      sum. Nec enim possum sanguinem parentum meorum effundere.\u201d\u2014Greg.\n      Tur. ii. 40.\n\n  501 \u201cProsternebat enim quotidie Deus hostes ejus sub manu ipsius, et\n      augebat regnum ejus eo quod ambularet recto corde coram eo, et\n      faceret qu\u00e6 placita erant in oculis ejus.\u201d\u2014Greg. Tur. ii. 40.\n\n  502 Lib. iii. Prologue. St. Avitus enumerates in glowing terms the\n      Christian virtues of Clovis (_Ep._ xli.), but, as this was in a\n      letter addressed to the king himself, the eulogy may easily be\n      explained.\n\n  503 Thus Hallam says: \u201cThere are continual proofs of immorality in the\n      monkish historians. In the history of Rumsey Abbey, one of our best\n      documents for Anglo-Saxon times, we have an anecdote of a bishop who\n      made a Danish nobleman drunk, that he might cheat him out of an\n      estate, which is told with much approbation. Walter de Hemingford\n      records, with excessive delight, the well-known story of the Jews\n      who were persuaded by the captain of their vessel to walk on the\n      sands at low water till the rising tide drowned them.\u201d\u2014Hallam\u2019s\n      _Middle Ages_ (12th ed.), iii. p. 306.\n\n  504 Canciani, _Leges Barbarorum_, vol. iii. p. 64. Canciani notices,\n      that among the Poles the teeth of the offending persons were pulled\n      out. The following passage, from Bodin, is, I think, very\n      remarkable: \u201cLes loix et canons veulent qu\u2019on pardonne aux\n      h\u00e9r\u00e9tiques repentis (combien que les magistrats en quelques lieux\n      par cy-devant, y ont eu tel esgard, que celui qui avoit mang\u00e9 de la\n      chair au Vendredy estoit brusl\u00e9 tout vif, comme il fut faict en la\n      ville d\u2019Angers l\u2019an mil cinq cens trente-neuf, s\u2019il ne s\u2019en\n      repentoit: et ja\u00e7oit qu\u2019il se repentist si estoit-il pendu par\n      compassion).\u201d\u2014_D\u00e9monomanie des Sorciers_, p. 216.\n\n  505 A long list of examples of extreme maceration, from lives of the\n      saints of the seventh and eighth centuries is given by Pitra, _Vie\n      de St. L\u00e9ger_, Introd. pp. cv.-cvii.\n\n  506 This was related of St. Equitius.\u2014Greg. _Dialog._ i. 4.\n\n  507 Ibid. i. 5. This saint was named Constantius.\n\n  508 A vast number of miracles of this kind are recorded. See, e.g.,\n      Greg. Tur. _De Miraculis_, i. 61-66; _Hist._ iv. 49. Perhaps the\n      most singular instance of the violation of the sanctity of the\n      church was that by the nuns of a convent founded by St. Radegunda.\n      They, having broken into rebellion, four bishops, with their\n      attendant clergy, went to compose the dispute, and having failed,\n      excommunicated the rebels, whereupon the nuns almost beat them to\n      death in the church.\u2014Greg. Tur. ix. 41.\n\n  509 See Canciani, _Leges Barbarorum_, vol. iii. pp. 19, 151.\n\n  510 Much information about these measures is given by Dr. Hessey, in his\n      _Bampton Lectures on Sunday_. See especially, lect. 3. See, too,\n      Moehler, _Le Christianisme et l\u2019Esclavage_, pp. 186-187.\n\n  511 Gregory of Tours enumerates some instances of this in his\n      extravagant book _De Miraculis_, ii. 11; iv. 57; v. 7. One of these\n      cases, however, was for having worked on the day of St. John the\n      Baptist. Some other miracles of the same nature, taken, I believe,\n      from English sources, are given in Hessey\u2019s _Sunday_ (3rd edition),\n      p. 321.\n\n  512 Compare Pitra, _Vie de St.-L\u00e9ger_, p. 137. Sismondi, _Hist. des\n      Fran\u00e7ais_, tome ii. pp. 62-63.\n\n  513 See a remarkable passage from his life, cited by Guizot, _Hist. de\n      la Civilisation en France_, xviime le\u00e7on. The English historians\n      contain several instances of the activity of charity in the darkest\n      period. Alfred and Edward the Confessor were conspicuous for it.\n      Ethelwolf is said to have provided, \u201cfor the good of his soul,\u201d\n      that, till the day of judgment, one poor man in ten should be\n      provided with meat, drink, and clothing. (Asser\u2019s _Life of Alfred_.)\n      There was a popular legend that a poor man having in vain asked alms\n      of some sailors, all the bread in their vessel was turned into\n      stone. (Roger of Wendover, A.D. 606.) See, too, another legend of\n      charity in Matthew of Westminster, A.D. 611.\n\n  514 Greg. Tur. _Hist._ v. 8.\n\n  515 M. Guizot has given several specimens of this (_Hist. de la\n      Civilis._ xviime le\u00e7on).\n\n  516 This portion of medi\u00e6val history has lately been well traced by Mr.\n      Maclear, in his _History of Christian Missions in the Middle Ages_\n      (1863). See, too, Montalembert\u2019s _Moines d\u2019Occident_; Ozanam\u2019s\n      _\u00c9tudes germaniques_. The original materials are to be found in\n      Bede, and in the _Lives of the Saints_\u2014especially that of St.\n      Columba, by Adamnan. On the French missionaries, see the Benedictine\n      _Hist. lit. de la France_, tome iv. p. 5; and on the English\n      missionaries, Sharon Turner\u2019s _Hist. of England_, book x. ch. ii.\n\n  517 Dion Chrysostom, _Or._ ii. (_De Regno_).\n\n  518 Gibbon, ch. xvi.\n\n  519 Origen, _Cels._ lib. viii.\n\n  520 \u201cNavigamus et nos vobiscum et militamus.\u201d\u2014Tert. _Apol._ xlii. See,\n      too, Grotius _De Jure_, i. cap. ii.\n\n  521 See an admirable dissertation on the opinions of the early\n      Christians about military service, in Le Blant, _Inscriptions\n      chr\u00e9tiennes de la Gaule_, tome i. pp. 81-87. The subject is\n      frequently referred to by Barbeyrac, _Morale des P\u00e8res_, and\n      Grotius, _De Jure_, lib. i. cap. ii.\n\n  522 Philostorgius, ii. 5.\n\n  523 See some excellent remarks on this change, in Milman\u2019s _History of\n      Christianity_, vol. ii. pp. 287-288.\n\n  524 Mably, _Observations sur l\u2019Histoire de France_, i. 6; Hallam\u2019s\n      _Middle Ages_, ch. ii. part ii.\n\n  525 Wakeman\u2019s _Arch\u00e6ologia Hibernica_, p. 21. However, Giraldus\n      Cambrensis observes that the Irish saints were peculiarly\n      vindictive, and St. Columba and St. Comgall are said to have been\n      leaders in a sanguinary conflict about a church near Coleraine. See\n      Reeve\u2019s edition of Adamnan\u2019s _Life of St. Columba_, pp. lxxvii. 253.\n\n  526 Campion\u2019s _Historie of Ireland_ (1571), book i. ch. vi.\n\n  527 It seems curious to find in so calm and unfanatical a writer as\n      Justus Lipsius the following passage: \u201cJam et invasio qu\u00e6dam\n      legitima videtur etiam sine injuria, ut in barbaros et moribus aut\n      _religione_ prorsum a nobis abhorrentes.\u201d\u2014_Politicorum sive Civilis\n      Doctrin\u00e6 libri_ (Paris, 1594), lib. iv. ch. ii. cap. iv.\n\n  528 \u201cCon l\u2019occasione di queste cose Plutarco nel _Teseo_ dice che gli\n      eroi si recavano a grande onore e si reputavano in pregio d\u2019armi con\n      l\u2019esser chiamati ladroni; siccome a\u2019 tempi barbari ritornati quello\n      di Corsale era titolo riputato di signoria; d\u2019intorno a\u2019 quali tempi\n      venuto Solone, si dice aver permesso nelle sue leggi le societ\u00e0 per\n      cagion di prede; tanto Solone ben intese questa nostra compiuta\n      Umanit\u00e0, nella quale costoro non godono del diritto natural delle\n      genti! Ma quel che fa pi\u00f9 maraviglia \u00e8 che Platone ed Aristotile\n      posero il ladroneccio fralle spezie della caccia e con tali e tanti\n      filosofi d\u2019una gente umanissima convengono con la loro barbarie i\n      Germani antichi; appo i quali al referire di Cesare \u00ec ladronecci non\n      solo non eran infami, ma si tenevano tra gli esercizi della virt\u00f9\n      siccome tra quelli che per costume non applicando ad arte alcuna\n      cos\u00ec fuggivano l\u2019ozio.\u201d\u2014Vico, _Scienza Nuova_, ii. 6. See, too,\n      Whewell\u2019s _Elements of Morality_, book vi. ch. ii.\n\n  529 The ancient right of war is fully discussed by Grotius, _De Jure_,\n      lib. iii. See, especially, the horrible catalogue of tragedies in\n      cap. 4. The military feeling that regards capture as disgraceful,\n      had probably some, though only a very subordinate, influence in\n      producing cruelty to the prisoners.\n\n  530 \u201cLe jour o\u00f9 Ath\u00e8nes d\u00e9cr\u00e9ta que tous les Mityl\u00e9niens, sans\n      distinction de sexe ni d\u2019\u00e2ge, seraient extermin\u00e9s, elle ne croyait\n      pas d\u00e9passer son droit; quand le lendemain elle revint sur son\n      d\u00e9cret et se contenta de mettre \u00e0 mort mille citoyens et de\n      confisquer toutes les terres, elle se crut humaine et indulgente.\n      Apr\u00e8s la prise de Plat\u00e9e les hommes furent \u00e9gorg\u00e9s, les femmes\n      vendues, et personne n\u2019accusa les vainqueurs d\u2019avoir viol\u00e9 le\n      droit.... C\u2019est en vertu de ce droit de la guerre que Rome a \u00e9tendu\n      la solitude autour d\u2019elle; du territoire o\u00f9 les Volsques avaient\n      vingt-trois cit\u00e9s elle a fait les marais pontins; les\n      cinquante-trois villes du Latium ont disparu; dans le Samnium on put\n      longtemps reconna\u00eetre les lieux o\u00f9 les arm\u00e9es romaines avaient\n      pass\u00e9, moins aux vestiges de leurs camps qu\u2019\u00e0 la solitude qui\n      r\u00e8gnait aux environs.\u201d\u2014Fustel de Coulanges, _La Cit\u00e9 antique_, pp.\n      263-264.\n\n  531 Plato, _Republic_, lib. v.; Bodin, _R\u00e9publique_, liv. i. cap. 5.\n\n  532 Grote, _Hist. of Greece_, vol. viii. p. 224. Agesilaus was also very\n      humane to captives.\u2014Ibid. pp. 365-6.\n\n  533 This appears continually in Livy, but most of all, I think, in the\n      Gaulish historian, Florus.\n\n  534 Scipio and Trajan.\n\n  535 See some very remarkable passages in Grotius, _De Jure Bell_. lib.\n      iii. cap. 4, \u00a7 19.\n\n  536 These mitigations are fully enumerated by Ayala, _De Jure et\n      Officiis Bellicis_ (Antwerp, 1597), Grotius, _De Jure_. It is\n      remarkable that both Ayala and Grotius base their attempts to\n      mitigate the severity of war chiefly upon the writings and examples\n      of the Pagans. The limits of the right of conquerors and the just\n      causes of war are discussed by Cicero, _De Offic._ lib. i.\n\n  537 In England the change seems to have immediately followed conversion.\n      \u201cThe evangelical precepts of peace and love,\u201d says a very learned\n      historian, \u201cdid not put an end to war, they did not put an end to\n      aggressive conquests, but they distinctly humanised the way in which\n      war was carried on. From this time forth the never-ending wars with\n      the Welsh cease to be wars of extermination. The heathen English had\n      been satisfied with nothing short of the destruction and expulsion\n      of their enemies; the Christian English thought it enough to reduce\n      them to political subjection.... The Christian Welsh could now sit\n      down as subjects of the Christian Saxon. The Welshman was\n      acknowledged as a man and a citizen, and was put under the\n      protection of the law.\u201d\u2014Freeman\u2019s _Hist. of the Norman Conquest_,\n      vol. i. pp. 33-34. Christians who assisted infidels in wars were\n      _ipso facto_ excommunicated, and might therefore be enslaved, but\n      all others were free from slavery. \u201cEt quidem inter Christianos\n      laudabili et antiqua consuetudine introductum est, ut capti hinc\n      inde, utcunque justo bello, non fierent servi, sed liberi\n      servarentur donec solvant precium redemptionis.\u201d\u2014Ayala, lib. i. cap.\n      5. \u201cThis rule, at least,\u201d says Grotius, \u201c(though but a small matter)\n      the reverence for the Christian law has enforced, which Socrates\n      vainly sought to have established among the Greeks.\u201d The Mohammedans\n      also made it a rule not to enslave their co-religionists.\u2014Grotius,\n      _De Jure_, iii. 7, \u00a7 9. Pagan and barbarian prisoners were, however,\n      sold as slaves (especially by the Spaniards) till very recently.\n\n  538 The character of Constantine, and the estimate of it in Eusebius,\n      are well treated by Dean Stanley, _Lectures on the Eastern Church_\n      (Lect. vi.).\n\n  539 Theodoret, iii. 28.\n\n  540 They are collected by Chateaubriand, _\u00c9tudes hist._ 2me disc. 2me\n      partie.\n\n  541 See St. Gregory\u2019s oration on _Cesarius_.\n\n  542 Sozomen, vi. 2.\n\n_  543 Ep._ xiii. 31-39. In the second of these letters (which is\n      addressed to Leontia), he says: \u201cRogare forsitan debui ut ecclesiam\n      beati Petri apostoli qu\u00e6 nunc usque gravibus insidiis laboravit,\n      haberet Vestra Tranquillitas specialiter commendatam. Sed qui scio\n      quia omnipotentem Deum diligitis, non debeo petere quod sponte ex\n      benignitate vestr\u00e6 pietatis exhibetis.\u201d\n\n  544 See the graphic description in Gibbon, ch. liii.\n\n  545 Baronius.\n\n  546 Mably, ii. 1; Gibbon, ch. xlix.\n\n  547 There are some good remarks upon the way in which, among the free\n      Franks, the bishops taught the duty of passive obedience, in Mably,\n      _Obs. sur l\u2019Histoire de France_, livre i. ch. iii. Gregory of Tours,\n      in his address to Chilperic, had said: \u201cIf any of us, O king,\n      transgress the boundaries of justice, thou art at hand to correct\n      us; but if thou shouldest exceed them, who is to condemn thee? We\n      address thee, and if it please thee thou listenest to us; but if it\n      please thee not, who is to condemn thee save He who has proclaimed\n      Himself Justice.\u201d\u2014Greg. Tur. v. 19. On the other hand, Hincmar,\n      Archbishop of Rheims, strongly asserted the obligation of kings to\n      observe the law, and denounced as diabolical the doctrine that they\n      are subject to none but God. (Allen, _On the Royal Prerogative_\n      (1849), pp. 171-172.)\n\n  548 The exact degree of the authority of the barbarian kings, and the\n      different stages by which their power was increased, are matters of\n      great controversy. The reader may consult Thierry\u2019s _Lettres sur\n      l\u2019Hist. de France_ (let. 9); Guizot\u2019s _Hist. de la Civilisation_;\n      Mably, _Observ. sur l\u2019Hist. de France_; Freeman\u2019s _Hist. of the\n      Norman Conquest_, vol. i.\n\n  549 Fauriel, _Hist. de la Po\u00e9sie proven\u00e7ale_, tome ii. p. 252.\n\n  550 Ibid, p. 258.\n\n  551 Le Grand D\u2019Aussy, _Fabliaux_, pr\u00e9f. p. xxiv. These romances were\n      accounts of his expeditions to Spain, to Languedoc, and to\n      Palestine.\n\n  552 The \u1f15\u03b4\u03bd\u03b1 of the Greeks.\n\n  553 Legouv\u00e9, _Histoire morale des Femmes_, pp. 95-96.\n\n  554 Gen. xxix., xxxiv. 12; Deut. xxii. 29; 1 Sam. xviii. 25.\n\n  555 The history of dowries is briefly noticed by Grote, _Hist. of\n      Greece_, vol. ii. pp. 112-113; and more fully by Lord Kames, in the\n      admirable chapter \u201cOn the Progress of the Female Sex,\u201d in his\n      _Sketches of the History of Man_, a book less read than it deserves\n      to be. M. Legouv\u00e9 has also devoted a chapter to it in his _Hist.\n      morale des Femmes_. See, too, Legendre, _Trait\u00e9 de l\u2019Opinion_, tome\n      ii. pp. 329-330. We find traces of the dowry, as well as of the\n      \u1f15\u03b4\u03bd\u03b1, in Homer. Penelope had received a dowry from Icarus, her\n      father. M. Michelet, in one of those fanciful books which he has\n      recently published, maintains a view of the object of the \u1f15\u03b4\u03bd\u03b1 which\n      I do not remember to have seen elsewhere, and which I do not\n      believe. He says: \u201cCe prix n\u2019est point un achat de la femme, mais\n      une indemnit\u00e9 qui d\u00e9dommage la famille du p\u00e8re pour les enfants\n      futurs, qui ne profiteront pas \u00e0 cette famille mais \u00e0 celle o\u00f9 la\n      femme va entrer.\u201d\u2014_La Femme_, p. 166.\n\n  556 In Rome, when the separation was due to the misconduct of the wife,\n      the dowry belonged to her husband.\n\n  557 \u201cDotem non uxor marito sed uxori maritus offert.\u201d\u2014Tac. _Germ._\n      xviii. On the Morgengab, see Canciani, _Leges Barbarorum_ (Venetiis,\n      1781), vol. i. pp. 102-104; ii. pp. 230-231. Muratori, _Antich.\n      Ital._ diss. xx. Luitprand enacted that no Longobard should give\n      more than one-fourth of his substance as a Morgengab. In Gregory of\n      Tours (ix. 20) we have an example of the gift of some cities as a\n      Morgengab.\n\n  558 See, on this point, Aul. Gellius, _Noct. Att._ xv. 20. Euripides is\n      said to have had two wives.\n\n  559 Aristotle said that Homer never gives a concubine to Menelaus, in\n      order to intimate his respect for Helen\u2014though false. (_Athen\u00e6us_,\n      xiii. 3.)\n\n  560 \u00c6schylus has put this curious notion into the mouth of Apollo, in a\n      speech in the _Eumenides_. It has, however, been very widely\n      diffused, and may be found in Indian, Greek, Roman, and even\n      Christian writers. M. Legouv\u00e9, who has devoted a very curious\n      chapter to the subject, quotes a passage from St. Thomas Aquinas,\n      accepting it, and arguing from it, that a father should be more\n      loved than a mother. M. Legouv\u00e9 says that when the male of one\n      animal and the female of another are crossed, the type of the female\n      usually predominates in the offspring. See Legouv\u00e9, _Hist. morale\n      des Femmes_, pp. 216-228; Fustel de Coulanges, _La Cit\u00e9 antique_,\n      pp. 39-40; and also a curious note by Boswell, in Croker\u2019s edition\n      of Boswell\u2019s _Life of Johnson_ (1847), p. 472.\n\n  561 Dr. Vintras, in a remarkable pamphlet (London, 1867) _On the\n      Repression of Prostitution_, shows from the police statistics that\n      the number of prostitutes _known to the police_ in England and\n      Wales, in 1864, was 49,370; and this is certainly much below the\n      entire number. These, it will be observed, comprise only the\n      habitual, professional prostitutes.\n\n  562 Some measures have recently been taken in a few garrison towns. The\n      moral sentiment of the community, it appears, would be shocked if\n      Liverpool were treated on the same principles as Portsmouth. This\n      very painful and revolting, but most important, subject has been\n      treated with great knowledge, impartiality, and ability, by\n      Parent-Duch\u00e2telet, in his famous work, _La Prostitution dans la\n      ville de Paris_. The third edition contains very copious\n      supplementary accounts, furnished by different doctors in different\n      countries.\n\n  563 Parent-Duch\u00e2telet has given many statistics, showing the very large\n      extent to which the French system of supervision deters those who\n      were about to enter into prostitution, and reclaims those who had\n      entered into it. He and Dr. Vintras concur in representing English\n      prostitution as about the most degraded, and at the same time the\n      most irrevocable.\n\n  564 Miss Mulock, in her amiable but rather feeble book, called _A\n      Woman\u2019s Thoughts about Women_, has some good remarks on this point\n      (pp. 291-293), which are all the more valuable, as the authoress has\n      not the faintest sympathy with any opinions concerning the character\n      and position of women which are not strictly conventional. She\n      notices the experience of Sunday school mistresses, that, of their\n      pupils who are seduced, an extremely large proportion are \u201cof the\n      very best, refined, intelligent, truthful, and affectionate.\u201d\n\n  565 See the very singular and painful chapter in Parent-Duch\u00e2telet,\n      called \u201cM\u0153urs et Habitudes des Prostitu\u00e9es.\u201d He observes that they\n      are remarkable for their kindness to one another in sickness or in\n      distress; that they are not unfrequently charitable to poor people\n      who do not belong to their class; that when one of them has a child,\n      it becomes the object of very general interest and affection; that\n      most of them have lovers, to whom they are sincerely attached; that\n      they rarely fail to show in the hospitals a very real sense of\n      shame; and that many of them entered into their mode of life for the\n      purpose of supporting aged parents. One anecdote is worth giving in\n      the words of the author: \u201cUn m\u00e9decin n\u2019entrant jamais dans leurs\n      salles sans \u00f4ter l\u00e9g\u00e8rement son chapeau, par cette seule politesse\n      il sut tellement conqu\u00e9rir leur confiance qu\u2019il leur faisait faire\n      tout ce qu\u2019il voulait.\u201d This writer, I may observe, is not a romance\n      writer or a theorist of any description. He is simply a physician\n      who describes the results of a very large official experience.\n\n  566 \u201cParent-Duch\u00e2telet atteste que sur trois mille cr\u00e9atures perdues\n      trente cinq seulement avaient un \u00e9tat qui pouvait les nourrir, et\n      que quatorze cents avaient \u00e9t\u00e9 pr\u00e9cipit\u00e9es dans cette horrible vie\n      par la mis\u00e8re. Une d\u2019elles, quand elle s\u2019y r\u00e9solut, n\u2019avait pas\n      mang\u00e9 depuis trois jours.\u201d\u2014Legouv\u00e9, _Hist. morale des Femmes_, pp.\n      322-323.\n\n  567 Concerning the position and character of Greek women, the reader may\n      obtain ample information by consulting Becker\u2019s _Charicles_\n      (translated by Metcalfe, 1845); Rainneville, _La Femme dans\n      l\u2019Antiquit\u00e9_ (Paris, 1865); and an article \u201cOn Female Society in\n      Greece,\u201d in the twenty-second volume of the _Quarterly Review_.\n\n  568 Plutarch, _Conj. Pr\u00e6c._\n\n  569 Xenophon, _Econ._ ii.\n\n  570 Plut. _Conj. Pr\u00e6c._ There is also an extremely beautiful picture of\n      the character of a good wife in Aristotle. (_Economics_, book i.\n      cap. vii.)\n\n  571 See Alexander\u2019s _History of Women_ (London, 1783), vol. i. p. 201.\n\n  572 Plutarch, _Phocion_.\n\n  573 Our information concerning the Greek courtesans is chiefly derived\n      from the thirteenth book of the _Deipnosophists_ of Athen\u00e6us, from\n      the _Letters_ of Alciphron, from the _Dialogues_ of Lucian on\n      courtesans, and from the oration of Demosthenes against Ne\u00e6ra. See,\n      too, Xenophon, _Memorabilia_, iii. 11; and among modern books,\n      Becker\u2019s _Charicles_. Athen\u00e6us was an Egyptian, whose exact date is\n      unknown but who appears to have survived Ulpian, who died in A.D.\n      228. He had access to, and gave extracts from, many works on this\n      subject, which have now perished. Alciphron is believed to have\n      lived near the time of Lucian.\n\n  574 According to some writers the word \u201cvenerari\u201d comes from \u201cVenerem\n      exercere,\u201d on account of the devotions in the temple of Venus. See\n      Vossius, _Etymologicon Lingu\u00e6 Latin\u00e6_, \u201cveneror;\u201d also La Mothe le\n      Vayer, _Lettre_ xc.\n\n  575 On the connection of the courtesans with the artistic enthusiasm,\n      see Raoul Rochette, _Cours d\u2019Arch\u00e9ologie_, pp. 278-279. See, too,\n      Athen\u00e6us, xiii. 59; Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ xxxv. 40.\n\n  576 See the very curious little work of M\u00e9nage, _Historia Mulierum\n      Philosopharum_ (Lugduni, MDXC.); also Rainneville, _La Femme dans\n      l\u2019Antiquite_, p. 244. At a much later date Lucian described the\n      beauty, accomplishments, generosity, and even modesty, of Panthea of\n      Smyrna, the favourite mistress of Lucius Verus.\n\n  577 The \u03b6\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1, which was at first in use, was discarded by the\n      Laced\u00e6monians, and afterwards by the other Greeks. There are three\n      curious memoirs tracing the history of the change, by M. Burette, in\n      the _Hist. de l\u2019Acad\u00e9mie royale des Inscriptions_, tome i.\n\n  578 On the causes of paiderastia in Greece, see the remarks of Mr. Grote\n      in the review of the _Symposium_, in his great work on Plato. The\n      whole subject is very ably treated by M. Maury, _Hist. des Religions\n      de la Gr\u00e9ce antique_, tome iii. pp. 35-39. Many facts connected with\n      it are collected by D\u00f6llinger, in his _Jew and Gentile_, and by\n      Chateaubriand, in his _\u00c9tudes historiques_. The chief original\n      authority is the thirteenth book of Athen\u00e6us, a book of very painful\n      interest in the history of morals.\n\n  579 Plutarch, in his _Life of Agesilaus_, dwells on the intense\n      self-control manifested by that great man, in refraining from\n      gratifying a passion he had conceived for a boy named Megabetes, and\n      Maximus Tyrius says it deserved greater praise than the heroism of\n      Leonidas. (_Diss._ xxv.) Diogenes La\u00ebrtius, in his _Life of Zeno_,\n      the founder of Stoicism, the most austere of all ancient sects,\n      praises that philosopher for being but little addicted to this vice.\n      Sophocles is said to have been much addicted to it.\n\n  580 Some examples of the ascription of this vice to the divinities are\n      given by Clem. Alex. _Admonitio ad Gentes_. Socrates is said to have\n      maintained that Jupiter loved Ganymede for his wisdom, as his name\n      is derived from \u03b3\u03ac\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 and \u03bc\u1fc6\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, to be delighted with prudence.\n      (Xenophon, _Banquet_.) The disaster of Cann\u00e6 was ascribed to the\n      jealousy of Juno because a beautiful boy was introduced into the\n      temple of Jupiter. (Lactantius, _Inst. Div._ ii. 17.)\n\n  581 Athen\u00e6us, xiii. 78. See, too, the very revolting book on different\n      kinds of love, ascribed (it is said falsely) to Lucian.\n\n  582 Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ xxxiv. 9.\n\n  583 There is ample evidence of this in Athen\u00e6us, and in the Dialogues of\n      Lucian on the courtesans. See, too, Terence, _The Eunuch_, act v.\n      scene 4, which is copied from the Greek. The majority of the class\n      were not called het\u00e6r\u00e6, but \u03c0\u03cc\u03c1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n  584 Plutarch, _De Garrulitate_; Plin. _Hist. Nat._ xxxiv. 19. The feat\n      of biting out their tongues rather than reveal secrets, or yield to\n      passion, is ascribed to a suspiciously large number of persons.\n      M\u00e9nage cites five besides Le\u00e6na. (_Hist. Mulier. Philos._ pp.\n      104-108.)\n\n  585 See, upon Bacchis, several of the letters of Alciphron, especially\n      the very touching letter (x.) on her death, describing her kindness\n      and disinterestedness. Athen\u00e6us (xiii. 66) relates a curious\n      anecdote illustrating these aspects of her character.\n\n  586 Xenophon, _Memorab._ iii. 11.\n\n  587 On the Flamens, see Aulus Gell. _Noct._ x. 15.\n\n  588 Capitolinus, _Maximinus Junior_.\n\n  589 Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ vii. 36. There is (as is well known) a similar\n      legend of a daughter thus feeding her father. Val. Max. Lib. v. cap.\n      4.\n\n  590 This appears from the first act of the _Stichus_ of Plautus. The\n      power appears to have become quite obsolete during the Empire but\n      the first legal act (which was rather of the nature of an\n      exhortation than of a command) against it was issued by Antoninus\n      Pius, and it was only definitely abolished under Diocletian.\n      (Laboulaye, _Recherches sur la condition civile et politique des\n      femmes_, pp. 16-17.)\n\n  591 Aul. Gell. _Noct._ x. 23.\n\n  592 Val. Maximus, ii. 1, \u00a7 4; Aul. Gellius, _Noct._ iv. 3.\n\n  593 Ammianus Marcellinus, xxviii. 4.\n\n  594 Tacitus, _De Oratoribus_, xxviii.\n\n  595 See Aulus Gellius, Noct. ii. 24.\n\n  596 \u201cMore inter veteres recepto, qui satis p\u0153narum adversum impudicas in\n      ipsa professione flagitii credebant.\u201d\u2014Tacitus, _Annal._ ii. 85.\n\n  597 Aul. Gell. iv. 3. Juno was the goddess of marriage.\n\n  598 Ibid. iv. 14.\n\n  599 The well-known superstition about the lion, &c., becoming docile\n      before a virgin is, I believe, as old as Roman times. St. Isidore\n      mentions that rhinoceroses were said to be captured by young girls\n      being put in their way to fascinate them. (Legendre, _Trait\u00e9 de\n      l\u2019Opinion_, tome ii. p. 35.)\n\n  600 Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ xxviii. 23.\n\n  601 Ibid. vii. 18.\n\n  602 \u201cQuem enim Romanorum pudet uxorem ducere in convivium? aut cujus\n      materfamilias non primum locum tenet \u00e6dium, atque in celebritate\n      versatur? quod multo fit aliter in Gr\u00e6cia. Nam neque in convivium\n      adhibetur, nisi propinquorum, neque sedet nisi in interiore parte\n      \u00e6dium qu\u00e6 _gyn\u00e6contis_ appellatur, quo nemo accedit, nisi propinqua\n      cognatione conjunctus.\u201d\u2014Corn. Nepos. pr\u00e6fat.\n\n  603 Val. Max. ii. 1, \u00a7 6.\n\n  604 Liv. viii. 18.\n\n  605 See Val. Max. ii. 1.\n\n  606 \u201cNupti\u00e6 sunt conjunctio maris et femin\u00e6, et consortium omnis vit\u00e6,\n      divini et humani juris communicatio.\u201d\u2014Modestinus.\n\n  607 Livy, xxxiv. 5. There is a fine collection of legends or histories\n      of heroic women (but chiefly Greek) in Clem. Alexand. _Strom._ iv.\n      19.\n\n  608 Tacitus, _Annal._ ii. 85. This decree was on account of a patrician\n      lady named Vistilia having so enrolled herself.\n\n  609 Dion Cassius, liv. 16, lvi. 10.\n\n  610 \u201cSi sine uxore possemus, Quirites, esse, omnes ea molestia\n      careremus; sed quoniam ita natura tradidit, ut nec cum illis satis\n      commode nec sine illis ullo modo vivi possit, saluti perpetu\u00e6 potius\n      quam brevi voluptati consulendum.\u201d\u2014Aulus Gellius, _Noct._ i. 6. Some\n      of the audience, we are told, thought that, in exhorting to\n      matrimony, the speaker should have concealed its undoubted evils. It\n      was decided, however, that it was more honourable to tell the whole\n      truth. Stob\u00e6us (_Sententi\u00e6_) has preserved a number of harsh and\n      often heartless sayings about wives, that were popular among the\n      Greeks. It was a saying of a Greek poet, that \u201cmarriage brings only\n      two happy days\u2014the day when the husband first clasps his wife to his\n      breast, and the day when he lays her in the tomb;\u201d and in Rome it\n      became a proverbial saying, that a wife was only good \u201cin thalamo\n      vel in tumulo.\u201d\n\n  611 Friedl\u00e4nder, _Hist. des M\u0153urs romaines_, tome i. pp. 360-364. On the\n      great influence exercised by Roman ladies on political affairs some\n      remarkable passages are collected in Denis, _Hist. des Id\u00e9es\n      Morales_, tome ii. pp. 98-99. This author is particularly valuable\n      in all that relates to the history of domestic morals. The\n      _Asinaria_ of Plautus, and some of the epigrams of Martial, throw\n      much light upon this subject.\n\n  612 See the very remarkable discussion about this repeal in Livy, lib.\n      xxxiv. cap. 1-8.\n\n  613 Legouv\u00e9, _Hist. Morale des Femmes_, pp. 23-26. St. Augustine\n      denounced this law as the most unjust that could be mentioned or\n      even conceived. \u201cQua lege quid iniquius dici aut cogitari possit,\n      ignoro.\u201d\u2014St. Aug. _De Civ. Dei_, iii. 21\u2014a curious illustration of\n      the difference between the habits of thought of his time and those\n      of the middle ages, when daughters were habitually sacrificed,\n      without a protest, by the feudal laws.\n\n  614 Plutarch, _Cicero_.\n\n  615 Tacit. _Ann._ i. 10.\n\n  616 Plutarch, _Cato_; Lucan, _Pharsal_. ii.\n\n  617 Senec. _Ep._ cxiv.\n\n  618 Val. Max. vi. 3.\n\n  619 Plutarch, _Paul. \u00c6mil._ It is not quite clear whether this remark\n      was made by Paulus himself.\n\n  620 Sen. _De Benef._ iii. 16. See, too, _Ep._ xcv. _Ad Helv._ xvi.\n\n_  621 Apol._ 6.\n\n_  622 Epig._ vi. 7.\n\n  623 Juv. _Sat._ vi. 230.\n\n_  624 Ep._ 2.\n\n  625 Sueton. _Aug._ Charlemagne, in like manner, made his daughters work\n      in wool. (Eginhardus, _Vit. Car. Mag._ xix.)\n\n  626 Friedl\u00e4nder, _M\u0153urs romaines du r\u00e8gne d\u2019Auguste \u00e0 la fin des\n      Antonins_ (trad. fran\u00e7.), tome i. p. 414.\n\n  627 Much evidence of this is collected by Friedl\u00e4nder, tome i. pp.\n      387-395.\n\n  628 Plutarch, _Pompeius_.\n\n  629 Martial, xi. 16. Pliny, _Ep._ i. 14.\n\n  630 Suet. _Tiberius_, xlv.\n\n  631 Plutarch, _Brutus_.\n\n  632 Tacit. _Annal._ xv. 63, 64.\n\n  633 \u201cP\u00e6te, non dolet.\u201d\u2014Plin. _Ep._ iii. 16; Martial, _Ep._ i. 14.\n\n  634 Tacit. _Annal._ xvi. 10-11; _Hist._ i. 3. See, too, Friedl\u00e4nder,\n      tome i. p. 406.\n\n  635 Tacit. _Ann._ xvi. 34.\n\n  636 Pliny mentions her return after the death of the tyrant (_Ep._ iii.\n      11).\n\n  637 \u201cQuod paucis datum est, non minus amabilis quam veneranda.\u201d\u2014Plin.\n      _Ep._ vii. 19.\n\n  638 See Plin. _Ep._ vii. 19. Dion Cassius and Tacitus relate the exiles\n      of Helvidius, who appears to have been rather intemperate and\n      unreasonable.\n\n  639 Friedl\u00e4nder gives many and most touching examples, tome i. pp.\n      410-414.\n\n  640 Suet. _Dom._ viii.\n\n  641 Capitolinus, _Macrinus_.\n\n  642 Lampridius, _A. Severus_.\n\n  643 In the oration against Ne\u00e6ra, which is ascribed to Demosthenes, but\n      is of doubtful genuineness, the licence accorded to husbands is\n      spoken of as a matter of course: \u201cWe keep mistresses for our\n      pleasures, concubines for constant attendance, and wives to bear us\n      legitimate children, and to be our faithful housekeepers.\u201d\n\n  644 There is a remarkable passage on the feelings of wives, in different\n      nations, upon this point, in Athen\u00e6us, xiii. 3. See, too, Plutarch,\n      _Conj. Pr\u00e6c._\n\n  645 Euripid. _Andromache_.\n\n  646 Valer. Max. vi. 7, \u00a7 1. Some very scandalous instances of cynicism\n      on the part of Roman husbands are recorded. Thus, Augustus had many\n      mistresses, \u201cQu\u00e6 [virgines] sibi undique etiam _ab uxore_\n      conquirerentur.\u201d\u2014Sueton. _Aug._ lxxi. When the wife of Verus, the\n      colleague of Marcus Aurelius, complained of the tastes of her\n      husband, he answered, \u201cUxor enim dignitatis nomen est, non\n      voluptatis.\u201d\u2014Spartian. _Verus_.\n\n  647 Aristotle, _Econom._ i. 4-8-9.\n\n  648 Plutarch enforces the duty at length, in his very beautiful work on\n      marriage. In case husbands are guilty of infidelity, he recommends\n      their wives to preserve a prudent blindness, reflecting that it is\n      out of respect for them that they choose another woman as the\n      companion of their intemperance. Seneca touches briefly, but\n      unequivocally, on the subject: \u201cScis improbum esse qui ab uxore\n      pudicitiam exigit, ipse alienarum corruptor uxorum. Scis ut illi nil\n      cum adultero, sic nihil tibi esse debere cum pellice.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ xciv.\n      \u201cSciet in uxorem gravissimum esse genus injuri\u00e6, habere\n      pellicem.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ xcv.\n\n  649 \u201cPeriniquum enim videtur esse, ut pudicitiam vir ab uxore exigat,\n      quam ipse non exhibeat.\u201d\u2014_Cod. Just. Dig._ xlviii. 5-13.\n\n  650 Quoted by St. Augustine, _De Conj. Adult._ ii. 19. Plautus, long\n      before, had made one of his characters complain of the injustice of\n      the laws which punished unchaste wives but not unchaste husbands,\n      and ask why, since every honest woman is contented with one husband,\n      every honest man should not be contented with one wife? (_Mercator_,\n      Act iv. scene 5.)\n\n  651 Horace, _Sat._ i. 2.\n\n  652 \u201cVerum si quis est qui etiam meretriciis amoribus interdictum\n      juventuti putet, est ille quidem valde severus; negare non possum;\n      sed abhorret non modo ab hujus s\u00e6culi licentia, verum etiam a\n      majorum consuetudine atque concessis. Quando enim hoc factum non\n      est? Quando reprehensum? Quando non permissum? Quando denique fuit\n      ut quod licet non liceret?\u201d\u2014Cicero, _Pro C\u00e6lio_, cap. xx. The whole\n      speech is well worthy of the attention of those who would understand\n      Roman feelings on these matters; but it should be remembered that it\n      is the speech of a lawyer defending a dissolute client.\n\n  653 \u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u03af \u1f00\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03af\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1, \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78 \u03b3\u03ac\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd. \u1f01\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03b4\u03ad, \u1f62\u03bd\n      \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9, \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03c0\u03c4\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd, \u03bc\u1f74 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b1\u03c7\u03b8\u1f74\u03c2 \u03b3\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c7\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2,\n      \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03cc, \u1f4d\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c7\u03c1\u1fc7,\n      \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03c6\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5.\u2014_Enchir._ xxxiii.\n\n  654 \u201cEt si uxores non haberent, singulas concubinas, quod sine his esse\n      non possent.\u201d\u2014Lampridius, _A. Severus_. We have an amusing picture\n      of the common tone of people of the world on this matter, in the\n      speech Apuleius puts into the mouth of the gods, remonstrating with\n      Venus for being angry because her son formed a connection with\n      Psyche. (_Metam._ lib. v.)\n\n  655 Preserved by Stob\u00e6us. See Denis, _Hist. des Id\u00e9es morales dans\n      l\u2019Antiquit\u00e9_, tome ii. pp. 134-136, 149-150.\n\n  656 Philos. _Apol._ i. 13. When a saying of Pythagoras, \u201cthat a man\n      should only have commerce with his own wife,\u201d was quoted, he said\n      that this concerned others.\n\n  657 Trebellius Pollio, _Zenobia_.\n\n  658 This is asserted by an anonymous writer quoted by Suidas. See\n      M\u00e9nage, _Hist. Mulierum Philosopharum_, p. 58.\n\n  659 See, e.g., Plotinus, 1st Eun. vi. 6.\n\n  660 Capitolinus, _M. Aurelius_.\n\n  661 Amm. Marcell. xxv. 4.\n\n_  662 Cod. Theod._ lib. ix. tit. 24.\n\n_  663 Cod. Theod._ lib. xv. tit. 7.\n\n  664 \u201cFidicinam nulli liceat vel emere vel docere vel vendere, vel\n      conviviis aut spectaculis adhibere. Nec cuiquam aut delectationis\n      desiderio erudita feminea aut music\u00e6 artis studio liceat habere\n      mancipia.\u201d\u2014_Cod. Theod._ xv. 7, 10. This curious law was issued in\n      A.D. 385. St. Jerome said these musicians were the chorus of the\n      devil, and quite as dangerous as the sirens. See the comments on the\n      law.\n\n  665 Ruinart, _Act. S. Perpetu\u00e6_. These acts, are, I believe, generally\n      regarded as authentic. There is nothing more instructive in history\n      than to trace the same moral feelings through different ages and\n      religions; and I am able in this case to present the reader with an\n      illustration of their permanence, which I think somewhat remarkable.\n      The younger Pliny gives in one of his letters a pathetic account of\n      the execution of Cornelia, a vestal virgin, by the order of\n      Domitian. She was buried alive for incest; but her innocence appears\n      to have been generally believed; and she had been condemned unheard,\n      and in her absence. As she was being lowered into the subterranean\n      cell her dress was caught and deranged in the descent. She turned\n      round and drew it to her, and when the executioner stretched out his\n      hand to assist her, she started back lest he should touch her, for\n      this, according to the received opinion, was a pollution; and even\n      in the supreme moment of her agony her vestal purity shrank from the\n      unholy contact. (Plin. _Ep._ iv. 11.) If we now pass back several\n      centuries, we find Euripides attributing to Polyxena a trait\n      precisely similar to that which was attributed to Perpetua. As she\n      fell beneath the sword of the executioner, it was observed that her\n      last care was that she might fall with decency.\n\n      \u1f21 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u03bd\u03ae\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u1fbd \u1f45\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03c7\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03c3\u03c7\u03ae\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd,\n      \u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u1fbd \u1f02 \u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u1f44\u03bc\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u1fbd \u1f00\u03c1\u03c3\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03b5\u03ce\u03bd.\n\n      Euripides, _Hec._ 566-68.\n\n_  666 Vita Pauli._\n\n  667 St. Ambrose relates an instance of this, which he says occurred at\n      Antioch (_De Virginibus_, lib. ii. cap. iv.). When the Christian\n      youth was being led to execution, the girl whom he had saved\n      reappeared and died with him. Eusebius tells a very similar story,\n      but places the scene at Alexandria.\n\n  668 See Ceillier, _Hist. des Auteurs eccl\u00e9s._ tome iii. p. 523.\n\n  669 Ibid. tome viii. pp. 204-207.\n\n  670 Among the Irish saints St. Colman is said to have had a girdle which\n      would only meet around the chaste, and which was long preserved in\n      Ireland as a relic (Colgan, _Acta Sanctorum Hiberni\u00e6_, Louvain,\n      1645, vol. i. p. 246); and St. Furs\u00e6us a girdle that extinguished\n      lust. (Ibid. p. 292.) The girdle of St. Thomas Aquinas seems to have\n      had some miraculous properties of this kind. (See his _Life_ in the\n      Bollandists, Sept. 29.) Among both the Greeks and Romans it was\n      customary for the bride to be girt with a girdle which the\n      bridegroom unloosed in the nuptial bed, and hence \u201czonam solvere\u201d\n      became a proverbial expression for \u201cpudicitiam mulieris imminuere.\u201d\n      (Nieupoort, _De Ritibus Romanorum_, p. 479; Alexander\u2019s _History of\n      Women_, vol. ii. p. 300.)\n\n_  671 Vit. St. Pachom._ (Rosweyde).\n\n  672 See his _Life_, by Gregory of Nyssa.\n\n  673 A little book has been written on these legends by M. Charles de\n      Bussy, called _Les Courtisanes saintes_. There is said to be some\n      doubt about St. Afra, for, while her acts represent her as a\n      reformed courtesan, St. Fortunatus, in two lines he has devoted to\n      her, calls her a virgin. (Ozanam, _\u00c9tudes german._ tome ii. p. 8.)\n\n  674 See the _Vit. Sancti Joannis Eleemosynarii_ (Rosweyde).\n\n  675 Tillemont, tome x. pp. 61-62. There is also a very picturesque\n      legend of the manner in which St. Paphnutius converted the courtesan\n      Thais.\n\n  676 See especially, Tertullian, _Ad Uxorem_. It was beautifully said, at\n      a later period, that woman was not taken from the head of man, for\n      she was not intended to be his ruler, nor from his feet, for she was\n      not intended to be his slave, but from his side, for she was to be\n      his companion and his comfort. (Peter Lombard, _Senten._ lib. ii.\n      dis. 18.)\n\n  677 The reader may find many passages on this subject in Barbeyrac,\n      _Morale des P\u00e8res_, ii. \u00a7 7; iii. \u00a7 8; iv. \u00a7 31-35; vi. \u00a7 31; xiii.\n      \u00a7 2-8.\n\n  678 \u201cIt is remarkable how rarely, if ever (I cannot call to mind an\n      instance), in the discussions of the comparative merits of marriage\n      and celibacy, the social advantages appear to have occurred to the\n      mind.... It is always argued with relation to the interests and the\n      perfection of the individual soul; and, even with regard to that,\n      the writers seem almost unconscious of the softening and humanising\n      effect of the natural affections, the beauty of parental tenderness\n      and filial love.\u201d\u2014Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Christianity_, vol. iii. p.\n      196.\n\n  679 \u201cTempus breve est, et jam securis ad radices arborum posita est, qu\u00e6\n      silvam legis et nuptiarum evangelica castitate succidat.\u201d\u2014_Ep._\n      cxxiii.\n\n  680 \u201cLaudo nuptias, laudo conjugium, sed quia mihi virgines\n      generant.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ xxii.\n\n  681 See Ceillier, _Auteurs eccl\u00e9s._ xiii. p. 147.\n\n  682 Socrates, iv. 23.\n\n  683 Palladius, _Hist. Laus._ cxix.\n\n_  684 Vit. S. Abr._ (Rosweyde), cap. i.\n\n  685 I do not know when this legend first appeared. M. Littr\u00e9 mentions\n      having found it in a French MS. of the eleventh century (Littr\u00e9,\n      _Les Barbares_, pp. 123-124); and it also forms the subject of a\n      very curious fresco, I imagine of a somewhat earlier date, which was\n      discovered, within the last few years, in the subterranean church of\n      St. Clement at Rome. An account of it is given by Father Mullooly,\n      in his interesting little book about that Church.\n\n_  686 De Virgin._ cap. iii.\n\n  687 Greg. Tur. i. 42.\n\n  688 The regulations on this point are given at length in Bingham.\n\n  689 Muratori, _Antich. Ital._ diss. xx.\n\n  690 St. Greg. _Dial._ i. 10.\n\n  691 Delepierre, _L\u2019Enfer d\u00e9crit par ceux qui l\u2019ont vu_, pp. 44-56.\n\n  692 Val. Max. ii. 1. \u00a7 3.\n\n  693 \u201cIlle meos, primus qui me sibi junxit, amores\n      Abstulit; ille habeat secum, servetque sepulchro.\u201d\n\n      _\u00c6n._ iv. 28.\n\n  694 E.g., the wives of Lucan, Drusus, and Pompey.\n\n  695 Tacit. _German._ xix.\n\n  696 Friedl\u00e4nder, tome i. p. 411.\n\n  697 Hieron. _Ep._ liv.\n\n  698 \u201cUxorem vivam amare voluptas;\n      Defunctam religio.\u201d\n\n      Statius. _Sylv._ v. in pro\u0153mio.\n\n  699 By one of the laws of Charondas it was ordained that those who cared\n      so little for the happiness of their children as to place a\n      stepmother over them, should be excluded from the councils of the\n      State. (Diod. Sic. xii. 12.)\n\n  700 Tertullian expounded the Montanist view in his treatise, _De\n      Monogamia_.\n\n  701 A full collection of the statements of the Fathers on this subject\n      is given by Perrone, _De Matrimonio_, lib. iii. Sect. I.; and by\n      Natalis Alexander, _Hist. Eccles._ S\u00e6c. II. dissert. 18.\n\n  702 Thus, to give but a single instance, St. Jerome, who was one of\n      their strongest opponents, says: \u201cQuid igitur? damnamus secunda\n      matrimonia? Minime, sed prima laudamus. Abjicimus de ecclesia\n      digamos? absit; sed monogamos ad continentiam provocamus. In arca\n      Noe non solum munda sed et immunda fuerunt animalia.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ cxxiii.\n\n_  703 In Legat._\n\n_  704 Strom._ lib. iii.\n\n_  705 Contra Jovin._ i.\n\n  706 Ibid. See, too, _Ep._ cxxiii.\n\n  707 Hom. xvii. in Luc.\n\n_  708 Orat._ xxxi.\n\n  709 Perrone, _De Matr._ iii. \u00a7 1, art. 1; Natalis Alexander, _Hist.\n      Eccles._ II. dissert. 18. The penances are said not to imply that\n      the second marriage was a sin, but that the moral condition that\n      made it necessary was a bad one.\n\n  710 See Stephen\u2019s _Hist. of English Criminal Law_, i. p. 461.\n\n  711 Conc. Illib. can. xxxviii. Bingham thinks the feeling of the Council\n      to have been, that if baptism was not administered by a priest, it\n      should at all events be administered by one who might have been a\n      priest.\n\n  712 Perrone, _De Matrimonio_, tome iii. p. 102.\n\n  713 This subject has recently been treated with very great learning and\n      with admirable impartiality by an American author, Mr. Henry C. Lea,\n      in his _History of Sacerdotal Celibacy_ (Philadelphia, 1867), which\n      is certainly one of the most valuable works that America has\n      produced. Since the great history of Dean Milman, I know no work in\n      English which has thrown more light on the moral condition of the\n      middle ages, and none which is more fitted to dispel the gross\n      illusions concerning that period which High Church writers, and\n      writers of the positive school, have conspired to sustain.\n\n  714 See Lea, p. 36. The command of St. Paul, that a bishop or deacon\n      should be the husband of _one_ wife (1 Tim. iii. 2-12) was believed\n      by all ancient and by many modern commentators to be prohibitory of\n      second marriages; and this view is somewhat confirmed by the widows\n      who were to be honoured and supported by the Church, being only\n      those who had been but once married (1 Tim. v. 9). See Pressens\u00e9,\n      _Hist. des trois premiers Si\u00e8cles_ (1re s\u00e9rie), tome ii. p. 233.\n      Among the Jews it was ordained that the high priest should not marry\n      a widow. (Levit. xxi. 13-14.)\n\n  715 Socrates, _H. E._ i. 11. The Council of Illiberis (can. xxxiii.) had\n      ordained this, but both the precepts and the practice of divines\n      varied greatly. A brilliant summary of the chief facts is given in\n      Milman\u2019s _History of Early Christianity_, vol. iii. pp. 277-282.\n\n  716 See, on the state of things in the tenth and eleventh centuries,\n      Lea, pp. 162-192.\n\n  717 Ratherius, quoted by Lea, p. 151.\n\n  718 See some curious evidence of the extent to which the practice of the\n      hereditary transmission of ecclesiastical offices was carried, in\n      Lea, pp. 149, 150, 266, 299, 339.\n\n  719 Lea, pp. 271, 292, 422.\n\n  720 Ibid. pp. 186-187.\n\n  721 Lea, p. 358.\n\n  722 Ibid. p. 296.\n\n  723 Ibid. p. 322.\n\n  724 Ibid. p. 349.\n\n  725 The reader may find the most ample evidence of these positions in\n      Lea. See especially pp. 138, 141, 153, 155, 260, 344.\n\n  726 Synesius, _Ep._ cv.\n\n  727 Lea, p. 122. St. Augustine had named _his_ illegitimate son\n      Adeodatus, or the Gift of God, and had made him a principal\n      interlocutor in one of his religious dialogues.\n\n_  728 Dialog._ iv. 11.\n\n  729 This is mentioned by Henry of Huntingdon, who was a contemporary.\n      (Lea, p. 293.)\n\n  730 The first notice of this very remarkable precaution is in a canon of\n      the Council of Palencia (in Spain) held in 1322, which anathematises\n      laymen who compel their pastors to take concubines. (Lea, p. 324.)\n      Sleidan mentions that it was customary in some of the Swiss cantons\n      for the parishioners to oblige the priest to select a concubine as a\n      necessary precaution for the protection of his female parishioners.\n      (Ibid. p. 355.) Sarpi, in his _Hist. of the Council of Trent_,\n      mentions (on the authority of Zuinglius) this Swiss custom. Nicolas\n      of Clemangis, a leading member of the Council of Constance, declared\n      that this custom had become very common, that the laity were firmly\n      persuaded that priests _never_ lived a life of real celibacy, and\n      that, where no proofs of concubinage were found, they always assumed\n      the existence of more serious vice. The passage (which is quoted by\n      Bayle) is too remarkable to be omitted. \u201cTaceo de fornicationibus et\n      adulteriis a quibus qui alieni sunt probro c\u00e6teris ac ludibrio esse\n      solent, spadonesque aut sodomit\u00e6 appellantur; denique laici usque\n      adeo persuasum habent nullos c\u00e6libes esse, ut in plerisque parochiis\n      non aliter velint presbyterum tolerare nisi concubinam habeat, quo\n      vel sic suis sit consultum uxoribus, qu\u00e6 nec sic quidem usquequaque\n      sunt extra periculum.\u201d Nic. de Clem. _De Pr\u00e6sul. Simoniac._ (Lea, p.\n      386.)\n\n  731 This was energetically noticed by Luther, in his famous sermon \u201cDe\n      Matrimonio,\u201d and some of the Catholic preachers of an earlier period\n      had made the same complaint. See a curious passage from a\n      contemporary of Boccaccio, quoted by Meray, _Les Libres pr\u00eacheurs_,\n      p. 155. \u201cVast numbers of laymen separated from their wives under the\n      influence of the ascetic enthusiasm which Hildebrand created.\u201d\u2014Lea,\n      p. 254.\n\n  732 \u201cQuando enim servata fide thori causa prolis conjuges conveniunt sic\n      excusatur coitus ut culpam non habeat. Quando vero deficiente bono\n      prolis fide tamen servata conveniunt causa incontinenti\u00e6 non sic\n      excusatur ut non habeat culpam, sed venialem.... Item hoc quod\n      conjugati victi concupiscentia utuntur invicem, ultra necessitatem\n      liberos procreandi, ponam in his pro quibus quotidie dicimus Dimitte\n      nobis debita nostra.... Unde in sententiolis Sexti Pythagorici\n      legitur \u2018omnis ardentior amator propri\u00e6 uxoris adulter est.\u2019 \u201d\u2014Peter\n      Lombard, _Sentent._ lib. iv. dist. 31.\n\n  733 Many wives, however, were forbidden. (Deut. xvii. 17.) Polygamy is\n      said to have ceased among the Jews after the return from the\n      Babylonish captivity.\u2014Whewell\u2019s _Elements of Morality_, book iv. ch.\n      v.\n\n  734 Levit. xii. 1-5.\n\n  735 Ecclesiasticus, xiii. 14. I believe, however, the passage has been\n      translated \u201cBetter the badness of a man than the blandishments of a\n      woman.\u201d\n\n  736 This curious fact is noticed by Le Blant, _Inscriptions chr\u00e9tiennes\n      de la Gaule_, pp. xcvii.-xcviii.\n\n  737 See the decree of a Council of Auxerre (A.D. 578), can. 36.\n\n  738 See the last two chapters of Troplong, _Influences du Christianisme\n      sur le Droit_ (a work, however, which is written much more in the\n      spirit of an apologist than in that of an historian), and Legouv\u00e9,\n      pp. 27-29.\n\n  739 Even in matters not relating to property, the position of women in\n      feudalism was a low one. \u201cTout mari,\u201d says Beaumanoir, \u201cpeut battre\n      sa femme quand elle ne veut pas ob\u00e9ir \u00e0 son commandement, ou quand\n      elle le maudit, ou quand elle le d\u00e9ment, pourvu que ce soit\n      mod\u00e9r\u00e9ment et sans que mort s\u2019ensuive,\u201d quoted by Legouv\u00e9, p. 148.\n      Contrast with this the saying of the elder Cato: \u201cA man who beats\n      his wife or his children lays impious hands on that which is most\n      holy and most sacred in the world.\u201d\u2014Plutarch, _Marcus Cato_.\n\n  740 See Legouv\u00e9, pp. 29-38; Maine\u2019s _Ancient Law_, pp. 154-159.\n\n  741 \u201cNo society which preserves any tincture of Christian institutions\n      is likely to restore to married women the personal liberty conferred\n      on them by the middle Roman law: but the proprietary disabilities of\n      married females stand on quite a different basis from their personal\n      incapacities, and it is by keeping alive and consolidating the\n      former that the expositors of the canon law have deeply injured\n      civilisation. There are many vestiges of a struggle between the\n      secular and ecclesiastical principles; but the canon law nearly\n      everywhere prevailed.\u201d\u2014Maine\u2019s _Ancient Law_, p. 158. I may observe\n      that the Russian law was early very favourable to the proprietary\n      rights of married women. See a remarkable letter in the _Memoirs of\n      the Princess Daschkaw_ (edited by Mrs. Bradford: London, 1840), vol.\n      ii. p. 404.\n\n_  742 Germania_, cap. ix. xviii.-xx.\n\n_  743 De Gubernatione Dei._\n\n  744 See, for these legends, Mallet\u2019s _Northern Antiquities_.\n\n  745 Tacitus, _Germ._ 9; _Hist._ iv. 18; Xiphilin. lxxi. 3; Amm.\n      Marcellinus, xv. 12; Vopiscus, _Aurelianus_; Floras, iii. 3.\n\n  746 Valer. Max. vi. 1; Hieron. _Ep._ cxxiii.\n\n  747 Plutarch, _De Mulier. Virt._\n\n  748 Plutarch, _Amatorius_; Xiphilin. lxvi. 16; Tacit. _Hist._ iv. 67.\n      The name of this heroic wife is given in three different forms.\n\n  749 On the polygamy of the first, see Greg. Tur. iv. 26; on the polygamy\n      of Chilperic, Greg. Tur. iv. 28; v. 14.\n\n  750 Greg. Tur. iv. 3.\n\n  751 Ibid. iii. 25-27, 36.\n\n  752 Fredegarius, xxxvi.\n\n  753 Ibid. lx.\n\n  754 Eginhardus, _Vit. Kar. Mag._ xviii. Charlemagne had, according to\n      Eginhard, four wives, but, as far as I can understand, only two at\n      the same time.\n\n  755 Smyth\u2019s _Lectures on Modern History_, vol. i. pp. 61-62.\n\n  756 Milman\u2019s _Hist. of Latin Christianity_, vol. i. p. 363; Legouv\u00e9,\n      _Hist. Morale des Femmes_, p. 57.\n\n  757 See, on these laws, Lord Kames _On Women_; Legouv\u00e9, p. 57.\n\n  758 Favorinus had strongly urged it. (Aul. Gell. _Noct._ xii. 1.)\n\n  759 These are the reasons given by Malthus, _On Population_, book iii.\n      ch. ii.\n\n  760 St. Augustine (_De Conj. Adult._ ii. 19) maintains that adultery is\n      even more criminal in the man than in the woman. St. Jerome has an\n      impressive passage on the subject: \u201cAli\u00e6 sunt leges C\u00e6sarum, ali\u00e6\n      Christi; aliud Papianus, aliud Paulus nostri pr\u00e6cepit. Apud illos\n      viris impudiciti\u00e6 fr\u00e6na laxantur et solo stupro atque adulterio\n      condemnato passim per lupanaria et ancillulas libido permittitur,\n      quasi culpam dignitas faciat non voluntas. Apud nos quod non licet\n      feminis \u00e6que non licet viris; et eadem servitus pari conditione\n      censetur.\u201d\u2014_Ep._ lxxvii. St. Chrysostom writes in a similar strain.\n\n  761 See Troplong, _Influence du Christianisme sur le Droit_, pp.\n      239-251.\n\n  762 We find, however, traces of a toleration of the Roman type of\n      concubine in Christianity for some time. Thus, a Council of Toledo\n      decreed: \u201cSi quis habens uxorem fidelis concubinam habeat non\n      communicet. C\u00e6terum is qui non habet uxorem et pro uxore concubinam\n      habet a communione non repellatur, tantum ut unius mulieris, aut\n      uxoris aut concubin\u00e6 ut ei placuerit, sit conjunctione contentus.\u201d\u20141\n      _Can._ 17. St. Isidore said: \u201cChristiano non dicam plurimas sed nec\n      duas simul habere licitum est, nisi unam tantum aut uxorem, aut\n      certo loco uxoris, si conjux deest, concubinam.\u201d\u2014_Apud Gratianum_,\n      diss. 4. Quoted by Natalis Alexander, _Hist. Eccles._ S\u00e6c. I. diss.\n      29. Mr. Lea (_Hist. of Sacerdotal Celibacy_, pp. 203-205) has\n      devoted an extremely interesting note to tracing the history of the\n      word concubine through the middle ages. He shows that even up to the\n      thirteenth century a concubine was not necessarily an abandoned\n      woman. The term was applied to marriages that were real, but not\n      officially recognised. Coleridge notices a remarkable instance of\n      the revival of this custom in German history.\u2014_Notes on English\n      Divines_ (ed. 1853), vol. i. p. 221.\n\n  763 Legouv\u00e9, p. 199.\n\n  764 See some curious passages in Troplong, pp. 222-223. The Fathers seem\n      to have thought dissolution of marriage was not lawful on account of\n      the adultery of the husband, but that it was not absolutely\n      unlawful, though not commendable, for a husband whose wife had\n      committed adultery to re-marry.\n\n  765 Some of the great charities of Fabiola were performed as penances,\n      on account of her crime in availing herself of the legislative\n      permission of divorce.\n\n  766 Laboulaye, _Recherches sur la Condition civile et politique des\n      Femmes_, pp. 152-158.\n\n  767 \u201cA discourse concerning the obligation to marry within the true\n      communion, following from their style (_sic_) of being called a holy\n      seed.\u201d This rare discourse is appended to a sermon against mixed\n      marriages by Leslie. (London, 1702.) The reader may find something\n      about Dodwell in Macaulay\u2019s _Hist. of England_, ch. xiv.; but\n      Macaulay, who does not appear to have known Dodwell\u2019s\n      masterpiece\u2014his dissertation _De Paucitate Marturum_, which is one\n      of the finest specimens of criticism of his time\u2014and who only knew\n      the discourse on marriages by extracts, has, I think, done him\n      considerable injustice.\n\n  768 Dodwell relies mainly upon this fact, and especially upon Ezra\u2019s\n      having treated these marriages as essentially null.\n\n  769 \u201cJungere cum infidelibus vinculum matrimonii, prostituere gentilibus\n      membra Christi.\u201d\u2014Cyprian, _De Lapsis_.\n\n  770 \u201cH\u00e6c cum ita sint, fideles Gentilium matrimonia subeuntes stupri\n      reos esse constat, et arcendos ab omni communicatione\n      fraternitatis.\u201d\u2014Tert. _Ad Uxor._ ii. 3.\n\n  771 See on this law, and on the many councils which condemned the\n      marriage of orthodox with heretics, Bingham, _Antiq._ xxii. 2, \u00a7\u00a7\n      1-2.\n\n  772 Many curious statistics illustrating this fact are given by M.\n      Bonneville de Marsangy\u2014a Portuguese writer who was counsellor of the\n      Imperial Court at Paris\u2014in his _\u00c9tude sur la Moralit\u00e9 compar\u00e9e de la\n      Femme et de l\u2019Homme_. (Paris, 1862.) The writer would have done\n      better if he had not maintained, in lawyer fashion, that the\n      statistics of crime are absolutely decisive on the question of the\n      comparative morality of the sexes, and also, if he had not thought\n      it due to his official position to talk in a rather grotesque strain\n      about the regeneration and glorification of the sex in the person of\n      the Empress Eug\u00e9nie.\n\n  773 See Pliny, _Hist. Nat._ xxxiv. 19.\n\n  774 \u201cTantum inter Stoicos, Serene, et ceteros sapientiam professos\n      interesse, quantum inter f\u0153minas et mares non immerito dixerim.\u201d\u2014_De\n      Const. Sapientis_, cap. i.\n\n  775 This is well illustrated, on the one side, by the most repulsive\n      representations of Christ, by Michael Angelo, in the great fresco in\n      the Sistine Chapel (so inferior to the Christ of Orgagna, at Pisa,\n      from which it was partly imitated), and in marble in the Minerva\n      Church at Rome; and, on the other side, by the frescoes of Perugino,\n      at Perugia, representing the great sages of Paganism. The figure of\n      Cato, in the latter, almost approaches, as well as I remember, the\n      type of St. John.\n\n  776 In that fine description of a virtuous woman which is ascribed to\n      the mother of King Lemuel, we read: \u201cShe stretcheth out her hand to\n      the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.\u201d (Proverbs\n      xxxi. 20.) I have already quoted from Xenophon the beautiful\n      description of the Greek wife tending her sick slaves. So, too,\n      Euripides represents the slaves of Alcestis gathering with tears\n      around the bed of their dying mistress, who, even then, found some\n      kind word for each, and, when she died, lamenting her as their\n      second mother. (Eurip. _Alcest._) In the servile war which desolated\n      Sicily at the time of the Punic wars, we find a touching trait of\n      the same kind. The revolt was provoked by the cruelties of a rich\n      man, named Damophilus, and his wife, who were massacred with\n      circumstances of great atrocity; but the slaves preserved their\n      daughter entirely unharmed, for she had always made it her business\n      to console them in their sorrow, and she had won the love of all.\n      (Diodor. Sic. _Frag._ xxxiv.) So, too, Marcia, the wife of Cato,\n      used to suckle her young slaves from her breast. (Plut. _Marc.\n      Cato_.) I may add the well-known sentiment which Virgil puts in the\n      mouth of Dido: \u201cHaud ignara mali miseris succurrere disco.\u201d There\n      are, doubtless, many other touches of the same kind in ancient\n      literature, some of which may occur to my readers.\n\n  777 Theodoret, v. 19.\n\n  778 See the beautiful description of the functions of a Christian woman\n      in the second book of Tertullian, _Ad Uxorem_.\n\n  779 See, upon the deaconesses, Bingham\u2019s _Christian Antiquities_, book\n      ii. ch. 22, and Ludlow\u2019s _Woman\u2019s Work in the Church_. The latter\n      author argues elaborately that the \u201cwidows\u201d were not the same as the\n      deaconesses.\n\n  780 Ph\u0153be (Rom. xvi. 1) is described as a \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n  781 A very able writer, who takes on the whole an unfavourable view of\n      the influence of Christianity on legislation, says: \u201cThe provision\n      for the widow was attributable to the exertions of the Church, which\n      never relaxed its solicitude for the interests of wives surviving\n      their husbands, winning, perhaps, one of the most arduous of its\n      triumphs when, after exacting for two or three centuries an express\n      promise from the husband at marriage to endow his wife, it at last\n      succeeded in engrafting the principle of dower on the customary law\n      of all Western Europe.\u201d\u2014Maine\u2019s _Ancient Law_, p. 224.\n\n  782 See Troplong, _Influence du Christianisme sur le Droit_, pp.\n      308-310.\n\n  783 The results of this change have been treated by Miss Parkes in her\n      truly admirable little book called _Essays on Woman\u2019s Work_, better\n      than by any other writer with whom I am acquainted.","title":"History of European Morals From Augustus to Charlemagne (Vol. 2 of 2)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":147255}