Indian lodge.[861] “The best exorcism,” says Tertullian, “is by watchfulness and prayer to resist the devil, and cast out evil thoughts.” The following are epitaphs of exorcists: IANVARIVS EXORCISTA—“Januarius the exorcist;” HIC REQVIESCIT · IN · SOMNO · PACIS · CAELIVS · IOHANNIS EXHORCISTA (sic)—“Here rests, in the sleep of peace, Cælius John, an exorcist.”
The energumens, or possessed persons, were committed to the especial care of the exorcists, who employed them in the secular service of the sanctuary, as sweeping and cleaning the church, “lest idleness should become a temptation for Satan to molest them.” There is no indication of the existence of this unhappy class of persons in the church of the Catacombs, at least so far as monumental evidence is concerned.
A very numerous class in the economy of the primitive church was that of the fossors, or grave-diggers, by whose labours these vast labyrinths were excavated. They seem to have had especial charge of the subterranean cemeteries, and we have had numerous examples of the transfer and sale of graves under their authority.[862] They had also a quasi-ecclesiastical rank, and were subject to ecclesiastical discipline. “The first order of the clergy,” says Jerome, “is that of the fossors, who, after the manner of holy Tobit, are employed in burying the dead.”[863] They probably also
assisted the regular clergy in the celebration of the funeral rites. The melancholy office of this pious confraternity, always a sad necessity of humanity, was particularly so to the persecuted church of the Catacombs.
The excavations were evidently under one directorate, so symmetrical and uniform is their character. A considerable degree of architectural skill is exhibited in the construction and adornment of the subterranean chapels, many of which are of quite ornamental design, and in the excavation of the multitude of galleries and different levels of this vast city of the dead, proving that the fossors were no mean civil engineers. They were also probably the artists of the rude inscriptions. The office seems sometimes to have been hereditary, as we find as many as three generations of fossors in the same family. We have seen examples of the numerous frescoes representing these lowly diggers at work, often like miners, by the light of a lamp, or surrounded by the implements of their calling.[864] The following are characteristic epitaphs of this class: MAIO FOSSORI—“To Maius, the fossor;” FELIX FOSSOR VIXIT ANNIS LXII—“Felix, the fossor. He lived seventy-two years;” DIOGENES · FOSSOR · IN · PACE · DEPOSITVS—“Diogenes, the fossor, buried in peace.”
With these were probably confounded in the earlier ages the ostiarii, or door-keepers. Their office was one of great trust and responsibility in times of persecution, when the Christian worship had often to be celebrated in secret, and protected from the intrusion of spies or of the profanely curious heathen. It was their duty to distinguish between the faithful and scoffers and traitors, and to give private notice of the secret assemblies of the Christians. The following inscription of the
sixth century, as restored by De Rossi, commemorates a similar office in the basilica: LOC · DECI · CVBICVLARI · HVIVS · BASILICAE—“The place of Decius, custodian of this basilica.” We have also the epitaph of a mansionarius, a similar officer.[865]
An exaggerated commendation of the supposed superior sanctity of single life has long been a prominent characteristic of Romanism. A natural corollary of this notion was the enforced celibacy of the clergy.[866] Upon the Procrustean bed of this iron rule Rome has not scrupled to bind the tenderest and most sacred affections of the human soul. This cherished, but, as all history proves, most pernicious practice, has been the secret of much of the marvellous power of the priesthood and of the religious orders. The suppression of the domestic affections but intensified their devotion to the cause of the church, which took the place of both wife and child, and engrossed all their thoughts and all their energies. They became a priestly caste, animated by a strong esprit de corps superior to the claims of kindred or of country. But, as might have been anticipated, this anti-natural system led to frightful abuses and corruptions, and to the most flagrant innovations.
The notion of the greater sanctity of celibacy was derived, not from the teachings of our Lord or the apostles, who recognized the essential purity of marriage; but probably, as Milman suggests, from the early heresy of the Gnostics, of which this doctrine was a prominent characteristic.[867] “There was no enforced
celibacy during the first three centuries,” says the judicious Bingham.[868] Indeed, marriage was regarded as enjoined on bishops, elders, and deacons, by the counsel of St. Paul.[869] The occasional passages of Scripture, in which for temporary and special reasons a single life is recommended, were in course of time wrested from their obvious meaning to a more general application; and in the writings of some of the Fathers, marriage was regarded as a necessary evil, only to be tolerated for the perpetuation of the race, and on account of the infirmity of the weak. It was not till the fourth century that the church adopted the doctrine of devils spoken of by St. Paul as “forbidding to marry.” The earliest ecclesiastical legislation on the subject was at the Spanish council of Elvira, A. D. 305, which commanded ecclesiastics who were married to separate from their wives—abstinere se a conjugibus suis—thus ruthlessly putting asunder those whom God had joined. The synods of Ancyra and Neo Cæsarea, held ten years later, and also one of the so-called apostolic canons of the same date, reversed this decree, and forbade any ecclesiastic to put away his wife on the plea of religion, under penalty of excommunication, which action was confirmed by the great council of Nice.[870] Successive attempts to extirpate the tenderest human instincts only led to their illicit gratification, and to the scandals arising from the admission of mulieres subintroductæ, or,