The first four or five generations of Christians could not, on the whole, boast much culture—so far as their records permit us to judge. "Not many wise," said Paul, and their fewness has left an impress on the history of the church. A tendency to flightiness in speculation on the one hand, and a stolid refusal to speculate at all on the other, are the marks of second century Christianity. The early attempts made to come to terms with "human wisdom" were not happy, either at the centre or on the circumference of the body. The adjustment of the Gospel story to Old Testament prophecy was not a real triumph of the human mind, nor were the efforts at scientific theology any better. Docetism, with its phantom Christ, and Gnosticism with its antithesis of the just God and the good God, were not likely to satisfy mankind. Simple people felt that these things struck at their life, and they rejected them, and began to suspect the intellect. The century saw the growth of ecclesiastical system, episcopal order and apostolic tradition. Men began to speak of the "old church," the "original church" and the "catholic church," and to cleave to its "rule of faith" and "tradition of sound words." By 200 A.D. the church was no longer a new thing in the world; it had its own "ancient history" without going back to Judaism and the old covenant; it had its legends; and it could now speak like the Greeks of "the old faith of our fathers."
As it rose in the world, the church came into contact with new problems. As long as men were without culture, they were not troubled by the necessity of reconciling culture with faith, but the time had come when it must be done in earnest. Wealth was bringing leisure, and refinement, and new intellectual outlooks and interests. Could the church do with them? was the urgent question. Was it possible for a man to be at once a Greek gentleman of wealth and culture and a simple Christian like the humble grandfathers of his fellow-believers—or like his own slaves, the fuller and the cobbler of his household? We shall understand the problem better if we can make some acquaintance with the daily life and environment of these converts of the better classes.
In the second and third books of his Pedagogue Clement of Alexandria deals with the daily round and deportment of Christians, for whom extravagance and luxury might be a real temptation. A few points, gathered here and there from the two books, will suffice. He recommends simplicity of diet with health and strength as its objects—the viands, which the Gospels suggest, fish and the honeycomb, being admirable for these purposes.[[2]] Wine provokes the passions—"I therefore admire those who have chosen the austere life and are fond of water, the medicine of temperance." "Boys and girls should as a general rule abstain from the [other] drug"—wine.[[3]] Good manners at table—no noisy gulping, no hiccupping, no spilling, no soiling of the couch, no slobbering of hand or chin—"how do you think the Lord drank, when he became man for us?"[[4]] Vessels of silver and gold, furniture of rare woods inlaid with ivory, rugs of purple and rich colours, are hardly necessary for the Christian—"the Lord ate from a cheap bowl and made his disciples lie on the ground, on the grass, and he washed their feet with a towel about him—the lowly-minded God and Lord of the universe. He did not bring a silver foot-bath from heaven to carry about with him. He asked the Samaritan woman to give him to drink in a vessel of clay as she drew it up from the well,—not seeking the royal gold, but teaching us to quench thirst easily." "In general as to food, dress, furniture and all that pertains to the house, I say at once, it should all be according to the institutions of the Christian man, fitting appropriately person, age, pursuits and time."[[5]]
Christian manners
Clement passes from the table to a general discussion of manners and habits. Man is a "laughing animal," but he should not laugh all the time. Humour is recommended rather than wit (charientistéon ou gelôtopoiêtéon, 45, 4). "The orderly relaxation of the face which preserves its harmony" is a smile (46, 3)—giggling and excessive laughter are perversions. Care should be taken in conversation to avoid low talk, and the scoff that leads the way to insolence, and the argument for barren victory—"man is a creature of peace," as the greeting "Peace with you" shows us. Some talkers are like old shoes—only the tongue left for mischief. There are many tricks unfit for a Christian gentleman—spitting, coughing, scratching and other things; and he would do well to avoid whistling and snapping his fingers to call the servants. Fidgetting is the mark of mental levity (symbolon kouphótetos).[[6]]
In the care of one's person, oil may be used; it is a sign of the luxury of the times that scents and unguents are so universally applied to such various purposes. The heathen crowned their heads with flowers and made it a reproach that Christians gave up the practice. But, as Tertullian said, they smelt with their noses; and Clement urges that on the head flowers are lost to sight and smell, and chill the brain. A flower-garden in spring, with the dew upon all its colours, and all the natural scents of the open air, is another thing. The Christian too will remember—Tertullian also has this thought—that it was another crown that the Lord wore[[7]]—ex spinis opinor, et tribulis. The real objection was that the custom was associated with idol-worship.
Silk and purple and pearls are next dealt with—and earrings, "an outrage on nature"—if you pierce the ear, why not the nose too?[[8]] All peculiarity of dress should be avoided, and so should cosmetics—or else you may remind people of the Egyptian temple, outside all splendour, inside a priest singing a hymn to a cat or a crocodile.[[9]] "Temperance in drink and symmetry in food are wonderful cosmetics and quite natural."[[10]] Let a woman work with her hands, and health will come and bring her beauty. She should go veiled to church, like Æneas' wife leaving Troy.[[11]] Men may play at ball, take country walks, and try gardening and drawing water and splitting billets.[[12]] Finger-rings are allowed for them—gold rings, to be used as seals for security against the slaves. "Let our seals be a dove, or a fish, or a ship running before the wind, or a lyre, or a ship's anchor"—not an idol's face, or a sword or a cup or something worse.[[13]] Men should wear their hair short (unless it is curly), grow their beards and keep their moustaches trimmed with the scissors.[[14]] Our slaves we should treat as ourselves, for they are men as we; "God" (as a verse, perhaps from Menander, puts it) "is the same for all, free or slave, if you think of it."[[15]]
All these admonitions imply an audience with some degree of wealth. The Christian artisan of Celsus had no temptation to use a silver foot-bath or to plaster himself with cosmetics. It may also be remarked that the man who gives the advice shows himself well acquainted with the ways of good society—and perhaps of society not so well gifted with taste. With all this refinement went education. The children of Christian parents were being educated, and new converts were being made among the cultured classes, and the adjustment of the new faith and the old culture was imperative. The men to make it were found in a succession of scholars, learned in all the wisdom of Greece, enthusiastic for philosophy and yet loyal to the Gospel tradition.
The first of these, whose name we know, was Pantænus; but beyond his name there is little to be known of him. Eusebius says that he began as a Stoic philosopher and ended as a Christian missionary to India.[[16]] His pupil, Clement, is of far greater importance in the history of Christian thought.
His classical training