Hence I would say, let them talk and let them write. If they have anything to say that is good, we ought to know it, and if not, they will soon be forgotten. The Greeks seem to have felt that way, and the Romans did until the days of the Empire. But as soon as the commander-in-chief of the Roman armies had become an imperial and semi-divine personage, a second-cousin to Jupiter and a thousand miles removed from all ordinary mortals, this was changed.
The crime of “laesa majestas,” the heinous offense of “offering insult to his Majesty,” was invented. It was a purely political misdemeanor and from the time of Augustus until the days of Justinian, many people were sent to prison because they had been a little too outspoken in their opinions about their rulers. But if one let the person of the emperor alone, there was practically no other subject of conversation which the Roman must avoid.
This happy condition came to an end when the world was brought under the domination of the Church. The line between good and bad, between orthodox and heretical, was definitely drawn before Jesus had been dead more than a few years. During the second half of the first century, the apostle Paul spent quite a long time in the neighborhood of Ephesus in Asia Minor, a place famous for its amulets and charms. He went about preaching and casting out devils, and with such great success that he convinced many people of the error of their heathenish ways. As a token of repentance they came together one fine day with all their books of magic and burned more than ten thousand dollars worth of secret formulae, as you may read in the nineteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles.
This, however, was an entirely voluntary act on the part of a group of repentant sinners and it is not stated that Paul made an attempt to forbid the other Ephesians from reading or owning similar books.
Such a step was not taken until a century later.
Then, by order of a number of bishops convened in this same city of Ephesus, a book containing the life of St. Paul was condemned and the faithful were admonished not to read it.
During the next two hundred years, there was very little censorship. There also were very few books.
But after the Council of Nicaea (325) when the Christian Church had become the official church of the Empire, the supervision of the written word became part of the routine duty of the clergy. Some books were absolutely forbidden. Others were described as “dangerous” and the people were warned that they must read them at their own risk. Until authors found it more convenient to assure themselves of the approval of the authorities before they published their works and made it a rule to send their manuscripts to the local bishops for their approbation.
Even then, a writer could not always be sure that his works would be allowed to exist. A book which one Pope had pronounced harmless might be denounced as blasphemous and indecent by his successor.