[Sidenote: It adopts oriental errors.]
It first adopted many of the errors of the oriental philosophy. Gnosticism was embraced by many of the leading intellects of the church. It was the reaction of that old aristocratic spirit which had ruled the pagan world. It was an eclecticism of knowledge and culture which had originally despised the doctrines of the Cross. It united the oriental theosophy with the Platonic philosophy, both of which were proud, exclusive, disdainful. "It drew a distinction between the man of intellect, whose vocation it was to know, and the man who could not rise above blind and implicit faith." The early Christians were characterized for the simplicity of their faith. But with the triumphs of faith arose the cravings for knowledge among the more cultivated part of the converts.
[Sidenote: Attempts to reconcile reason with faith.]
Paul had seemingly discouraged all vain speculations, and the Grecian spirit of philosophy, believing that they would not avail to the explanation of the Christian mysteries, but rather prove a stumbling- block and a folly, since the realm of faith was essentially different from the realm of reason—not necessarily antagonistic, but distinct. This fundamental principle has ever been maintained by the more orthodox leaders of the church—by Athanasius, Augustine, Bernard, Pascal, Calvin—even as the fundamental principle of sound philosophy which Bacon advocated, that the world of experience and observation could not be explained by metaphysical deductions, has been the cause of all great modern progress in the sciences. The Gnostics, the men who aimed at superior knowledge, disdained the humbling doctrine of Paul, which made faith supreme over all forms of philosophy, and were the first to seek solutions of difficult points of theology by abstruse inquiries— honorable to the intellect, but subversive of that docile spirit which Christianity enjoined. This tendency to speculation was unfortunate, but natural to those active minds who sought to discover a connection between the truths taught by revelation, and those which we arrive at by consciousness. Grecian philosophy, when most lofty, as expressed by Plato, was based on these mental possessions—these internal convictions reached by logic and reflection. What more harmless, and even praiseworthy, to all appearance, than was this earnest attempt to reconcile reason with faith? The finest minds and characters of the church entered into the discussion with singular intensity and ardor. They would explain the Man-God, the Trinity, the Word made flesh, and all the other points which grew out of grace and free will. A dialectical spirit arose, which combated or explained what had formerly been received with unquestioning submission. In the first century there was scarcely any need of creeds, for the faith of the Christians was united on a few simple doctrines, such as are expressed in the Apostles' Creed. In the second and third centuries agitations and speculations began, and with the Gnostics, that class who invoked the aid of Oriental and Grecian philosophies in the propagation of the new religion. It was to be made dependent on human speculation—a most dangerous error, since it reintroduced the very wisdom which knew not God, and which the Apostles ignored. It ushered in the reign of rationalism, which still refuses to abdicate her throne, and which is absolutely rampant and exulting in the great universities of the most learned and inquiring of European nations.
[Sidenote: Gnosticism.]
But Gnosticism partook more of the haughty and exclusive spirit of the eastern sages, than of the patient and inquiring nature of the Grecian schools. It soared into regions whither even Platonism did not presume to venture. It sought to subject even the Grecian mind to its wild and lofty flights. The doctrines which Zoroaster taught pertaining to the two antagonistic principles of good and evil—the oriental dualism— Parsism had great fascination, especially to those who were inclined to monastic seclusion. The spirit of Evil, which seemed to be dominant on earth, and which was associated with material things, chained the soul to sense. The soul, longing for truth and holiness—for God and heaven— panted to be free of the corrupting influences of matter, which imprisoned the noblest part of man. The oriental Christian, not fully emancipated from the spirit which Buddhism communicated to all the countries of the East—that is, the longing of the soul for the release from matter, its reunion with the primal power from which all life has flowed, and the estrangement from human passions and worldly interests— sought repose and retirement where the mind would be free to dwell on the great questions which pertained to God and immortality. The dualistic principle, one of the chief elements of Gnosticism, harmonized with the prevailing temper of that age, even as the pantheistic principle rules the schools of philosophy in our own. All Christians were alive to consciousness of the power of evil. Gnosticism recognized it. Christianity triumphs over it by the power of the Cross which procures redemption. Gnosticism would work out salvation by abstractions, by ascetic severities, by a renunciation of the pleasures of the world. Hence it is the real father of monasticism—that spirit of seclusion and self-abnegation which became so prevalent in the third and fourth centuries, and which remained in the church through the mediaeval period. Gnosticism busied itself with the solution of insoluble questions respecting the origin of evil, which Christianity justly relinquished to the domain of useless inquiries—"the wisdom of the world." Gnosticism would acknowledge no limits to human speculation; Christianity accepts mysteries hidden from the wise and prudent, and yet revealed unto babes. Hence all sorts of crudities of belief crept into the church, such as the idea of the demiurge, and the different ways of contemplating the person of Christ. Moreover, the Gnostics subjected the New Testament to the boldest criticism, affirming it to be impossible to arrive at the true doctrines of Christ; and hence they sought to go beyond Christ, explaining difficult subjects by rationalistic interpretations. Cerinthus placed a boundless chasm between God and the world, and filled it up with different orders of spirits as intermediate beings. Basilides supposed an angel was set over the entire earthly course of the world. Valentine announced the distinction between a psychical and pneumatical Christianity. Ptolemaeus maintained that the creation of the world did not proceed from the supreme God. Bardesanes sought to trace the vestiges of truth among people of every nation. Carpocrates maintained that all existence flowed from one supreme original being, to whom it strives to return. Prodicus asserted that as men were sons of the supreme God, a royal race, they were bound by no law. Saturnine advanced a fanciful system on the creation. Tatian advocated the mortality of the soul. Marcion attempted to sunder the God of Nature and the God of the Old Testament from the God of the Gospel. It is difficult to enumerate all the fanciful theories propounded by the Gnostics, and which arose from the attempt to engraft Orientalism upon Christianity.
[Sidenote: Manicheism.]
A still greater attempt to blend Christianity with the religions of ancient Asia was made by Mani, a Persian, who especially attempted to fuse Zoroastrian with Christian doctrines. He aimed to produce the utmost estrangement from all mundane influences, since the evil principle held in bondage the elements springing out of the kingdom of light. Deliverance from this bondage he regarded as the great end and aim of life. His spirit was pantheistic, probably derived from Buddhism, which he had learned during his extensive journeys into India and China. He adopted the dualism of Zoroaster, and supposed two principles antagonistic to each other, on the one side God, the primal light, from whom all light radiates, on the other side Evil, whose essence is self- conflicting uproar, matter, darkness. Most nearly connected with the supreme God were Aeons,—the channels for the diffusion of light,— innumerable in number and of surpassing greatness. The Aeon-mother of life generated the primitive man to oppose the powers of darkness. Hence man's nature is full of dignity, although he was worsted in the conflict with Evil. But the spirit raises him once more to the kingdom of light, and purifies his soul which sprung from the primitive man. The pure soul is Christ, enthroned in the sun, superior to all contact with matter, and incapable of suffering.
[Sidenote: Mysticism.]
These were some of the features of that mystical philosophy which made Christ the spirit of the sun, giving light and life to the soul imprisoned in the kingdom of darkness. Man thus becomes a copy of the world of light and darkness, struggling against matter, elevated by the source of life—a soul living in the kingdom of light, and a body derived from the kingdom of darkness, and enticed by all the pleasures of sense, and thus drawn down to the world which is matter and evil, counteracted by the angel of light. This is the dualism which formed the essential element of the Manichean speculations, so congenial to the mystic theogonies of the East, and which was embraced by a portion of the eastern church, especially by those who were fascinated by the refinements and pretensions of a philosophy which aimed to solve the highest problems of existence—the nature of God, and the creation of man. These daring speculations, which led astray so many inquiring minds, were, however, too mystical and indefinite to reach the popular mind, and they pertained to questions which did not shock Christian instincts, like those which attacked the person or the offices of Christ. Gnosticism was viewed as a sort of Judaism, inasmuch as it did not rest its exclusiveness on the title of birth, but on especial knowledge communicated to the enlightened few. It was a philosophy whose esoteric doctrines soared above the comprehension of the vulgar; but it affected more than the surface of society; it poisoned the minds of those who aspired to lead the intelligence of the age. Its spirit was antagonistic to the simplicity of the faith, and so, as it prevailed, was an influence much to be dreaded, and called forth the greatest energies of the Alexandrian school, in order to defeat it and nullify it. But its dangerous seeds remained to germinate a rationalistic theology, especially when united with the Neo-Platonic philosophy.