Persecution at Alexandria

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History of the Arians

Persecution at Alexandria

After he had done everything he wanted against the churches in Italy and the other regions, after he had banished some and violently oppressed others and filled every place with fear, he at last turned his fury against Alexandria, like some plague. This was cunningly arranged by the enemies of Christ. They wanted to have a show of the signatures of many bishops, and they wanted Athanasius, in his persecution, not to have a single bishop left to whom he could even complain. So they forestalled him and filled every place with terror, and they kept that terror up to back them in carrying out their plans. But in their folly they did not see that what they were displaying was not the free choice of the bishops, but the violence they had used themselves. Nor did they see that even if his brothers deserted him, and his friends and acquaintances stood far off, and no one could be found to sympathize with him and comfort him, yet far above all these, refuge in his God was enough for him. For Elijah too was alone in his persecution, and God was all in all to the holy man. And the Savior has given us an example here. He too was left alone and exposed to the plots of his enemies, to teach us that when we are persecuted and deserted by men we must not lose heart, but must put our hope in him and not betray the truth. For although the truth may seem at first to be afflicted, in the end even those who persecute it will acknowledge it.

Accordingly they urged on the emperor. First he wrote a threatening letter and sent it to the military commander and the soldiers. The notaries Diogenius and Hilarius carried it, and some officers of the palace with them. When they arrived, those terrible and cruel outrages were committed against the church which I briefly described a little earlier. Everyone knows of them from the protests the people published, which are placed at the end of this history, so that anyone may read them. Then, after Syrianus had done all this, after these monstrous things had been done and violence offered to the virgins, the emperor wrote again, as though he approved of such conduct and of the evils inflicted on us. This time he wrote to the senate and people of Alexandria. He stirred up the younger men, and required them to gather together and either persecute Athanasius or count themselves his enemies. But Athanasius had withdrawn before these orders reached them. He had been gone from the time Syrianus broke into the church, for he remembered what is written: “Hide yourself, as it were, for a little while, until the anger has passed.” The bearer of this letter was one Heraclius, a count by rank. He came ahead of a certain George, whom the emperor sent out as a spy; for a man sent by the emperor cannot be a bishop. Far from it! And indeed George’s own conduct, and what happened before he came in, prove it well enough.

Heraclius then published the letter, and it brought great disgrace on the man who wrote it. When the great Hosius wrote to Constantius, the emperor had been unable to put together any believable pretext for his change of conduct. Now he invented an excuse far more discreditable to himself and his advisers. He said, “Out of regard for the affection I had for my brother, of divine and pious memory, I put up for a time with Athanasius’s coming among you.” This proves both that he has broken his promise and that he has been ungrateful to his brother after his death. He calls his brother, as indeed he is, “deserving of divine and pious remembrance.” Yet, as regards his brother’s command, or, to use his own word, the “affection” he had for him, even if he complied merely “for the sake” of the blessed Constans, he ought to deal fairly with his brother, and make himself heir to his brother’s convictions as well as to his empire. When he was seeking his own just rights, he deposed Vetranio with the question, “To whom does the inheritance belong after a brother’s death?” Yet for the sake of the accursed heresy of the enemies of Christ, he ignores the claims of justice and fails in his duty toward his brothers. Indeed, for the sake of this heresy he would not even keep his father’s wishes without breaking them. Where he can please these ungodly men, he pretends to follow his father’s intention; but to distress the others, he does not care to show the respect that is due to a father. For because of the slanders of Eusebius and his party, his father sent the bishop into Gaul for a time, to escape the cruelty of his persecutors. (This was made plain after their father’s death by the blessed Constantine, the brother of Constantius, as his letters show.) But his father would not be persuaded by Eusebius and his party to send them the man they wanted as bishop. He blocked their wishes, and put a stop to their attempts with severe threats. So if, as Constantius declares in his letters, he wanted to keep his father’s practice, why did he first send out Gregory, and now this George, the devourer of stores? Why does he try so hard to bring into the church these Arians, whom his father named Porphyrians, banishing others while he favors them? His father did admit Arius to his presence. But when Arius perjured himself and burst open, he lost the father’s compassion; and the father, learning the truth, condemned him as a heretic. And again, while pretending to respect the canon of the church, why has he directed his whole conduct against the canons? Where is there a canon that a bishop should be appointed from the court? Where is there a canon that permits soldiers to invade churches? What tradition allows counts and ignorant eunuchs to exercise authority in church matters, and to announce by their edicts the decisions of those who bear the name of bishops? He is guilty of every kind of falsehood for the sake of this unholy heresy. Some time ago he sent out Philagrius as prefect a second time, against his father’s judgment, and we see what has happened now. Nor does he speak the truth when he says “for his brother’s sake.” For after his brother’s death he wrote to the bishop not once or twice but three times. He repeatedly promised him that he would not change his conduct toward him, and urged him to take courage, to let no one alarm him, and to go on living in his church in complete safety. He also sent orders by Count Asterius and Palladius the notary to Felicissimus, who was then military commander, and to Nestorius the prefect: if Philip the prefect or anyone else should dare to form a plot against Athanasius, they were to prevent it.

That is why, when Diogenius came and Syrianus lay in wait for us, both he and we and the people demanded to see the emperor’s letters. We supposed that, as it is written, “Let no falsehood be spoken before the king,” so a king who has made a promise will not lie or change. If, then, he “complied for his brother’s sake,” why did he also write those letters after his brother’s death? And if he wrote them “for his memory’s sake,” why did he afterward treat him so unkindly, persecuting the man and writing what he did, alleging a judgment of bishops, when in truth he was acting only to please himself? Even so, his cunning has not escaped detection; we have the proof of it ready at hand. For if bishops had passed a judgment, what business did the emperor have with it? Or if it was only the emperor’s threat, what need was there in that case of the so-called bishops? When was such a thing ever heard of since the beginning of the world? When did a judgment of the church receive its force from the emperor? Or rather, when was his decree ever recognized by the church? There have been many councils before now, and many judgments passed by the church. But the fathers never asked the emperor’s consent to them, nor did the emperor busy himself with the affairs of the church. The apostle Paul had friends among those of Caesar’s household, and in his letter to the Philippians he sent greetings from them. But he never took them as his partners in the judgments of the church. Now, however, we have seen a new spectacle, and it is an invention of the Arian heresy. Heretics have gathered together with the emperor Constantius, so that he, pleading the authority of the bishops, may use his power against whomever he pleases, and may persecute without being called a persecutor; and so that they, backed by the emperor’s government, may plot the ruin of whomever they will. And these are all who are not as ungodly as they are themselves. One might look on their proceedings as a comedy they are performing on the stage. The so-called bishops are the actors, and Constantius carries out their wishes. He makes them promises, as Herod did to the daughter of Herodias, and they dance before him and, by false accusations, bring about the banishment and death of those who truly believe in the Lord.

Who indeed has not been harmed by their slanders? Whom have these enemies of Christ not plotted to destroy? Whom has Constantius failed to banish on the charges they brought? When did he refuse to listen to them gladly? And what is strangest of all, when did he let anyone speak against them? When did he not more readily accept their testimony, whatever kind it was? Where is there a church that now enjoys the freedom to worship Christ? If a church holds to true godliness, it is in danger; if it pretends, it lives in fear. As far as he is concerned, every place is full of hypocrisy and ungodliness. Wherever there is a godly person and a lover of Christ (and there are many such everywhere, as the prophets and the great Elijah were), they hide themselves, if they can find a faithful friend like Obadiah. Either they withdraw into caves and holes in the ground, or they spend their lives wandering in the deserts. These men in their madness bring against them such slanders as Jezebel invented against Naboth, and the Jews against the Savior. And the emperor, the patron of the heresy, who wants to twist the truth as Ahab wanted to turn the vineyard into a vegetable garden, does whatever they want him to do; for what they suggest to him suits his own wishes.

Accordingly, as I said before, to suit his own pleasure he banished the true bishops, because they would not profess ungodly doctrines. And so now he sent Count Heraclius to proceed against Athanasius. Heraclius publicly announced his decrees and declared the emperor’s command: unless they obeyed the instructions in his letters, their bread would be taken away, their idols overthrown, and many of the city magistrates and people handed over to certain slavery. After threatening them like this, he was not ashamed to declare publicly in a loud voice, “The emperor disowns Athanasius, and has commanded that the churches be handed over to the Arians.” Everyone was amazed to hear it. They made signs to one another and exclaimed, “What! Has Constantius become a heretic?” Instead of blushing as he should have, the man pressed all the harder. He made the senators, the pagan magistrates and the keepers of the idol temples sign these terms, and agree to receive as their bishop whomever the emperor might send them. Of course Constantius was strictly upholding the canon of the church when he had this done! Instead of asking for letters from the church, he demanded them from the marketplace; and instead of asking the people, he asked the keepers of the temples. He knew that he was not sending a bishop to preside over Christians, but some intruder for those who signed his terms.

So the pagans, and some of the trades with them, signed, though unwillingly, out of fear of the threats he had made, as if they were buying the safety of their idols by their compliance. It was as though the matter were the appointment of a general or some other magistrate. Indeed, being pagans, what were they likely to do except whatever pleased the emperor? Now the people had gathered in the great church, for it was the fourth day of the week. On the following day Count Heraclius took with him Cataphronius, the prefect of Egypt, Faustinus, the receiver general, and Bithynus, a heretic. Together they stirred up the young men of the marketplace rabble, who worshiped idols, to attack the church and stone the people, saying that this was the emperor’s command. But since the time of dismissal had come, most of the people had already left the church. A few women were still there, and the young men did as the others had ordered them. Then a pitiful scene followed. The few women had just risen from prayer and sat down, when suddenly the youths came on them, naked, with stones and clubs. Some of them the godless wretches stoned to death. They flogged the holy bodies of the virgins, tore off their veils and bared their heads, and when the women resisted the insult, the cowards kicked them. This was dreadful, exceedingly dreadful; but what followed was worse, and more unbearable than any outrage. They knew the holy character of the virgins. They knew that their ears were not used to filth, and that they could bear stones and swords more easily than obscene words. So they attacked them with such language. The Arians suggested this to the young men, and laughed at everything they said and did. The holy virgins and the other godly women fled from such words as they would from the bite of asps. But the enemies of Christ helped the youths in the work, and perhaps even said the same things themselves; for they were well pleased with the obscenities the youths poured out on the women.

After this, to carry out fully the orders they had received (for this was what they eagerly wanted, and what the count and the receiver general told them to do), they seized the seats, the throne, the table, which was of wood, the curtains of the church, and whatever else they could. They carried them out and burned them before the doors in the main street, and threw frankincense on the flames. Alas! Who will not weep to hear of these things? Who will not perhaps stop his ears, so as not to have to endure the telling, thinking it harmful merely to listen to an account of such monstrous deeds? They also sang the praises of their idols and said, “Constantius has become a pagan, and the Arians have accepted our customs.” For indeed the Arians do not hesitate even to pretend to be pagans, if only their heresy may be established. They were even ready to sacrifice a heifer that drew the water for the gardens in the Caesareum; and they would have sacrificed it, had it not been female, for they said that it was unlawful among them to offer such an animal. This is how the ungodly Arians acted together with the pagans, thinking these things would bring dishonor on us. But divine justice rebuked their wickedness and worked a great and remarkable sign. By it, justice showed all men plainly that just as in their ungodly acts they had dared to attack no one but the Lord, so in these proceedings too they were again trying to dishonor him. This was proved still more clearly by the wonderful thing that now happened. One of these lewd youths ran into the church and dared to sit down on the throne. As he sat there, the wretched man sang some lewd song through his nose. Then he got up and tried to pull the throne away and drag it toward him. He did not know that he was drawing vengeance down on himself. Long ago the people of Ashdod dared to touch the ark, which it was not lawful for them even to look at, and they were at once destroyed by it, after first being grievously tormented with tumors. In the same way this unhappy man, who dared to drag the throne, pulled it down on himself. As if divine justice had sent the wood to punish him, he drove it into his own belly. Instead of carrying out the throne, he brought out his own entrails by the blow, so that the throne took his life instead of his taking the throne away. For, as it is written of Judas, his entrails gushed out. He fell down and was carried away, and the next day he died. Another came into the church with branches of trees, and as he waved them in his hands in the pagan manner and mocked, he was at once struck blind. He lost his sight on the spot and no longer knew where he was. As he was about to fall, his companions took him by the hand and held him up and led him out of the place. When on the next day he was with difficulty brought to his senses, he did not know either what he had done or what he had suffered because of his daring.

When the pagans saw these things, they were seized with fear and dared no further outrage. But the Arians were not even then touched with shame. Like the Jews when they saw the miracles, they were faithless and would not believe; indeed, like Pharaoh, they were hardened. They too had placed their hopes below, on the emperor and his eunuchs. They let the pagans, or rather the most abandoned of the pagans, act in the way described above. For they found that Faustinus, who is receiver general by title but a coarse man in his habits and dissolute at heart, was ready to play his part with them in these proceedings and to stir up the pagans. Indeed, they undertook to do the same things themselves, so that, as they had modeled their heresy on all the other heresies together, they might also share their wickedness with the most depraved of mankind. What they did through others I have described above. The monstrous things they did themselves pass the bounds of all wickedness, and exceed the malice of any executioner. Where is there a house they did not ravage? Where is there a family they did not plunder, on the pretense of searching for their opponents? Where is there a garden they did not trample underfoot? What tomb did they not open, pretending they were looking for Athanasius, when their only aim was to plunder and carry off everything that came in their way? How many men’s houses were sealed up! How many people’s lodgings, with all their contents, did they give away to the soldiers who helped them! Who did not experience their wickedness? Who that met them was not forced to hide himself in the marketplace? Did not many a man leave his house for fear of them and spend the night in the desert? Did not many a man, in his anxiety to save his property from them, lose most of it? And who, however unused to the sea, did not choose to trust himself to it and risk all its dangers rather than face their threats? Many also changed their homes, moving from street to street, and from the city to the suburbs. And many submitted to heavy fines, and when they could not pay, borrowed from others, simply to escape their schemes.

For they made themselves feared by everyone and treated everyone with great arrogance, using the emperor’s name and threatening people with his displeasure. To help them in their wickedness they had Sebastian, the military commander, a Manichaean and a dissolute young man, and also the prefect, the count, and the receiver general, who played the hypocrite. Many virgins who condemned their ungodliness and confessed the truth they brought out of their houses. Others they insulted as they walked along the streets, and had their young men uncover their heads. They also gave the women of their party leave to insult whomever they chose. And although the holy and faithful women stepped aside and gave them the way, these women crowded around them like Bacchanals and Furies. They counted it a misfortune if they found no way to harm them, and spent any day on which they could not do them some mischief in gloom. In a word, they were so cruel and bitter toward everyone that all men called them executioners, murderers, lawless men, intruders, evildoers, and any other name rather than Christians. Moreover, imitating the savage ways of the Scythians, they seized Eutychius, a subdeacon, a man who had served the church honorably. They had him flogged on the back with a leather whip until he was at the point of death, and they demanded that he be sent away to the mines; and not to just any mine, but to the mine of Phaeno, where even a condemned murderer can hardly live a few days. And what was most unreasonable in their conduct, they would not allow him even a few hours to have his wounds dressed, but had him sent off at once, saying, “If this is done, everyone will be afraid, and from now on they will be on our side.” After a short time, however, he was unable to finish his journey to the mine because of the pain of his wounds, and he died on the way. He died rejoicing, having won the glory of martyrdom. But the scoundrels were not ashamed even then. In the words of Scripture, “having hearts without mercy,” they acted accordingly, and now again they did a satanic deed. When the people begged them to spare Eutychius and pleaded for him, they had four respected free citizens seized, one of whom was Hermias, who washed the beggars’ feet. After flogging them very severely, the military commander threw them into prison. But the Arians, who are crueler even than Scythians, saw that the men had not died from the blows they had received. So they complained about the military commander and threatened him, saying, “We will write and tell the eunuchs that he does not flog the way we want.” When he heard this he was afraid, and was forced to beat the men a second time. As they were beaten, knowing why they were suffering and by whom they had been accused, they said only, “We are beaten for the sake of the truth, but we will not hold communion with the heretics. Beat us now as you will; God will judge you for this.” The ungodly men wanted to leave them in danger in the prison, so that they would die there. But the people of God watched for the right moment and pleaded with him for them, and after seven days or more they were set free.

But the Arians, grieved at this, devised yet another deed, crueler and more unholy still: cruel in the eyes of all men, but well suited to their antichristian heresy. The Lord commanded that we should remember the poor. He said, “Sell what you have and give alms,” and again, “I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; for as you have done it to one of these little ones, you have done it to me.” But these men, being truly opposed to Christ, have dared to act against his will in this too. For when the military commander handed the churches over to the Arians, and the destitute and the widows could no longer stay in them, the widows sat down in places appointed by the clergy who were entrusted with their care. And when the Arians saw that the brothers readily served them and supported them, they persecuted the widows too, beating them on the feet, and they accused before the military commander those who gave to them. This was done through a certain soldier named Dynamius. And it pleased Sebastian, for there is no mercy among the Manichaeans; indeed, among them it is thought a hateful thing to show mercy to a poor man. Here, then, was a new kind of complaint, and a new kind of court, now invented for the first time by the Arians. People were brought to trial for kindnesses they had done. The one who showed mercy was accused, and the one who had received a kindness was beaten. They would rather a poor man went hungry than that someone willing to show mercy should give to him. These modern Jews, for that is what they are, learned such feelings from the Jews of old. When those Jews saw the man who had been blind from birth receive his sight, and the man long sick with paralysis made well, they accused the Lord who had done them these kindnesses, and judged those who had experienced his goodness to be transgressors. Who was not astonished at these proceedings? Who did not curse both the heresy and its defenders? Who did not see that the Arians are indeed crueler than wild beasts? For they had no prospect of gain from their wickedness, for the sake of which they might have acted this way; rather, they only increased everyone’s hatred of them. They thought that by treachery and terror they could force certain people into their heresy, so that they would be brought into communion with them. But it turned out quite the opposite. The sufferers endured whatever was inflicted on them as a martyrdom, and neither betrayed nor denied the true faith in Christ. And those outside who witnessed their conduct, and at last even the pagans, when they saw these things, cursed them as antichristian and as cruel executioners; for human nature is inclined to pity and sympathize with the poor. But these men have lost even the common feelings of humanity. The kindness they would have wanted to receive from others, had they been the sufferers, they would not let others receive. Instead they used against them the severity and authority of the magistrates, and above all of the military commander.

What they have done to the presbyters and deacons is impossible to describe in words, for its cruelty passes all the power of language. They drove them into banishment under sentences passed by the military commander and the magistrates. They had the soldiers bring their relatives out of their houses, and had Gorgonius, the commander of the police, flog them. And, most cruel of all, with great insolence they plundered the loaves of these men and of those who had now died. What words could one use that would seem equal to the subject? What could one mention first, so that what came next would not prove more dreadful, and what came after that more dreadful still? All their attempts and wicked deeds were full of murder and ungodliness. And they are so unscrupulous and cunning that they try to deceive by promises of protection and by bribes of money, so that, since they cannot win approval by fair means, they may at least make some show by these to impose on the simple.