Mosheim says: “There can be no doubt but that the children of Christians were carefully trained up from their infancy, and were early put to reading the sacred books and learning the principles of religion. For this purpose schools were erected everywhere from the beginning.”[59]
Training schools for missionaries
From these schools for children, we must distinguish those seminaries of the early Christians, erected extensively in the larger cities, at which adults, and especially such as aspired to be public teachers, were instructed and educated in all branches of learning, both human and divine. Such seminaries, in which young men devoted to the sacred office were taught whatever was necessary to qualify them properly for it, the apostles of Christ undoubtedly both set up themselves, and directed others to set up.[60] St. John, at Ephesus, and Polycarp, at Smyrna, established such schools. Among these seminaries, in subsequent times, none was more celebrated than that at Alexandria; which is commonly called a catechetic school.[61] In addition, then, to home and church schools for children, the early Christian church established seminaries for the education of workers. In reading the history of the times the course of instruction is seen to adhere closely to the Scriptures, and to draw a sharp distinction between the science of salvation and the Greek and Oriental philosophy as taught in the pagan schools.
Pagans feared Christian schools
Christian education was often regarded as narrow and limited by those who loved to study the mysteries of Greek wisdom; but as long as they adhered to their simple studies, and made faith the basis of their work, there was a power in the truths taught by the students of these schools, which made the pagan world, with all its great men, tremble. It is an interesting fact that as late as the fourth century, after the Christian schools had lost much of their power through the mingling of pagan with Christian methods, and the adoption of some of the pagan studies, they were still regarded as the stronghold of Christianity. When Julian, the apostate, began to reign, an attempt was made to revive paganism throughout the Roman Empire. One of his first acts was to close the schools of the Christians. “He contemptuously observes,” says Gibbon, “that the men who exalt the merit of implicit faith are unfit to claim or to enjoy the advantages of science; and he vainly contends that if they refuse to adore the gods of Homer and Demosthenes, they ought to content themselves with expounding Luke and Matthew in the church of the Galileans.
The public schools of Julian
“In all the cities of the Roman world, the education of the youth was intrusted to masters of grammar and rhetoric; who were elected by the magistrates, maintained at the public expense, and distinguished by many lucrative and honorable privileges.... As soon as the resignation of the more obstinate teachers had established the unrivaled dominion of the pagan sophists, Julian invited the rising generation to resort with freedom to the public schools, in a just confidence that their tender minds would receive the impressions of literature and idolatry. If the greatest part of the Christian youth should be deterred by their own scruples, or by those of their parents, from accepting this dangerous mode of instruction, they must, at the same time, relinquish the benefits of a liberal education. Julian had reason to expect that, in the space of a few years, the church would relapse into its primeval simplicity, and that the theologians, who possessed an adequate share of the learning and eloquence of the age, would be succeeded by a generation of blind and ignorant fanatics, incapable of defending the truth of their own principles, or of exposing the various follies of polytheism.”[62]
Julian can not be counted as a fool; for, wishing to make the world pagan, he proceeded to do so, (1) By closing the Christian schools where the “merit of implicit faith” was taught; (2) By compelling attendance of the public schools, taught by pagan teachers, and where literature and idolatry were combined.
As Gibbon says, he had just reason to expect that in the course of a generation the Christians thus educated would lose their faith, cease to oppose paganism, and sink into insignificance. If a pagan emperor expected this in the fourth century, is it any wonder that Protestants to-day, allowing their children to remain in the public schools where precisely the same things are taught, in principle as Julian had his public instructors teach, should lose power and cease to be Protestants? From the words of Gibbon one would infer that in the days of Julian there were parents who refused to send their children to the public schools; some children who, “because of their own scruples,” refused to attend; and some teachers who ceased to teach rather than teach literature and idolatry in state schools.
The seminary at Alexandria