Unique character of the epistle.

The Epistle to Philemon holds a unique place among the Apostle’s writings. It is the only strictly private letter which has been preserved. The Pastoral Epistles indeed are addressed to individuals, but they discuss important matters of Church discipline and government. Evidently they were intended to be read by others besides those to whom they are immediately addressed. On the other hand the letter before us does not once touch upon any question of public interest. It is addressed apparently to a layman. It is wholly occupied with an incident of domestic life. The occasion which called it forth was altogether common-place. It is only one sample of numberless letters which must have been written to his many friends and disciples by one of St Paul’s eager temperament and warm affections, in the course of a long and chequered life. "Its value."Yet to ourselves this fragment, which has been rescued, we know not how, from the wreck of a large and varied correspondence, is infinitely precious. Nowhere is the social influence of the Gospel more strikingly exerted; nowhere does the nobility of the Apostle’s character receive a more vivid illustration than in this accidental pleading on behalf of a runaway slave.

The letter introduces us to an ordinary household in a small town of Phrygia. Four members of it are mentioned by name, the father, the mother, the son, and the slave.

1. The head of the family bears a name which, for good or for evil, was not unknown in connexion with Phrygian story. "Occurrence of the name in Phrygia."The legend of Philemon and Baucis, the aged peasants who entertained not angels but gods unawares, and were rewarded by their divine guests for their homely hospitality and their conjugal love^[662], is one of the most attractive in Greek mythology, and contrasts favourably with many a revolting tale in which the powers of Olympus are represented as visiting this lower earth. It has a special interest too for the Apostolic history, because it suggests an explanation of the scene at Lystra, when the barbarians would have sacrificed to the Apostles, imagining that the same two gods, Zeus and Hermes, had once again deigned to visit, in the likeness of men, those regions which they had graced of old by their presence^[663]. Again, in historical times we read of one Philemon who obtained an unenviable notoriety at Athens by assuming the rights of Athenian citizenship, though a Phrygian and apparently a slave^[664]. Otherwise the name is not distinctively Phrygian. It does not occur with any special frequency in the inscriptions belonging to this country; and though several persons bearing this name rose to eminence in literary history, not one, so far as we know, was a Phrygian.

The Philemon with whom we are concerned was a native, or at least an inhabitant, of ColossÆ. This appears from the fact that his slave is mentioned as belonging to that place. It may be added also, in confirmation of this view, that in one of two epistles written and despatched at the same time St Paul announces the restoration of Onesimus to his master, while in the other he speaks of this same person as revisiting ColossÆ^[665]. On the other hand it would not be safe to lay any stress on the statement of Theodoret, that Philemon’s house was still standing at ColossÆ when he wrote^[666], for traditions of this kind have seldom any historical worth.

Philemon had been converted by St Paul himself^[667]. At what time or under what circumstances he received his first lessons in the Gospel, we do not know: but the Apostle’s long residence at Ephesus naturally suggests itself as the period when he was most likely to have become acquainted with a citizen of ColossÆ^[668].

Philemon proved not unworthy of his spiritual parentage. Though to Epaphras belongs the chief glory of preaching the Gospel at ColossÆ^[669], his labours were well seconded by Philemon. The title of ‘fellow-labourer,’ conferred upon him by the Apostle^[670], is a noble testimony to his evangelical zeal. Like Nymphas in the neighbouring Church of Laodicea^[671], Philemon had placed his house at the disposal of the Christians at ColossÆ for their religious and social gatherings^[672]. Like Gaius^[673], to whom the only other private letter in the Apostolic Canon is addressed^[674], he was generous in his hospitalities. "and wide hospitality."All those with whom he came in contact spoke with gratitude of his kindly attentions^[675]. Of his subsequent career we have no certain knowledge. "Legendary martyrdom."Legendary story indeed promotes him to the bishopric of ColossÆ^[676], and records how he was martyred in his native city under Nero^[677]. But this tradition or fiction is not entitled to any credit. All that we really know of Philemon is contained within this epistle itself.

2. It is a safe inference from the connexion of the names that Apphia was the wife of Philemon^[678]. The commentators assume without misgiving that we have here the familiar Roman name Appia, though they do not explain the intrusion of the aspirate^[679]. This seems to be a mistake. "A strictly Phrygian name."The word occurs very frequently on Phrygian inscriptions as a proper name, and is doubtless of native origin. At Aphrodisias and Philadelphia, at Eumenia and Apamea Cibotus, at Stratonicea, at Philomelium, at Æzani and CotiÆum and DorylÆum, at almost all the towns far and near, which were either Phrygian or subject to Phrygian influences, and in which any fair number of inscriptions has been preserved, the name is found. If no example has been discovered at ColossÆ itself, we must remember that not a single proper name has been preserved on any monumental inscription at this place. It is generally written either Apphia or Aphphia^[680]; more rarely Aphia, which is perhaps due merely to the carelessness of the stonecutters^[681]. "Its affinities"But, so far as I have observed, it always preserves the aspirate. Its diminutive is Apphion or Aphphion or Aphion^[682]. The allied form Aphphias or Aphias, also a woman’s name, is found, though less commonly^[683]; and we likewise frequently meet with the shorter form Apphe or Aphphe^[684]. The man’s name corresponding to Apphia is Apphianos, but this is rare^[685]. The root would appear to be some Phrygian term of endearment or relationship^[686]. "and analogies."It occurs commonly in connexion with other Phrygian names of a like stamp, more especially Ammia, which undergoes the same modifications of form, Amia, Ammias, Ammion or Amion, Ammiane or Ammiana, with the corresponding masculine Ammianos^[687]. With these we may also compare Tatia, Tatias, Tation, Tatiane or Tatiana, Tatianos. Similar too is the name Papias or Pappias, with the lengthened form Papianos, to which corresponds the feminine Papiane^[688]. So again we have Nannas or Nanas, Nanna or Nana, with their derivatives, in these Phrygian inscriptions^[689]. "Not to be confused with the Latin Appia."There is a tendency in some of the allied forms of Apphia or Aphphia to drop the aspirate so that they are written with a pp, more especially in Appe^[690], but not in the word itself; nor have I observed conversely any disposition to write the Roman name Appia with an aspirate, Apphia or Aphphia^[691]. Even if such a disposition could be proved, the main point for which I am contending can hardly be questioned. With the overwhelming evidence of the inscriptions before us, it is impossible to doubt that Apphia is a native Phrygian name^[692].

Of this Phrygian matron we know nothing more than can be learnt from this epistle. The tradition or fiction which represents her as martyred together with her husband may be safely disregarded. St Paul addresses her as a Christian^[693]. Equally with her husband she had been aggrieved by the misconduct of their slave Onesimus, and equally with him she might interest herself in the penitent’s future well-being.

3. With less confidence, but still with a reasonable degree of probability, we may infer that Archippus, who is likewise mentioned in the opening salutation, was a son^[694] of Philemon and Apphia. The inscriptions do not exhibit the name in any such frequency either in Phrygia or in the surrounding districts, as to suggest that it was characteristic of these parts^[695]. "His office"Our Archippus held some important office in the Church^[696]; but what this was, we are not told. St Paul speaks of it as a ‘ministry’ (d?a????a). Some have interpreted the term technically as signifying the diaconate; but St Paul’s emphatic message seems to imply a more important position than this. Others again suppose that he succeeded Epaphras as bishop of ColossÆ, when Epaphras left his native city to join the Apostle at Rome^[697]; but the assumption of a regular and continuous episcopate in such a place as ColossÆ at this date seems to involve an anachronism. More probable than either is the hypothesis which makes him a presbyter. Or perhaps he held a missionary charge, and belonged to the order of ‘evangelists^[698].’ Another question too arises respecting Archippus. Where was he exercising this ministry, whatever it may have been? At ColossÆ, or at Laodicea? "and abode,"His connexion with Philemon would suggest the former place. But in the Epistle to the Colossians his name is mentioned immediately after the salutations to the Laodiceans and the directions affecting that Church; and this fact seems to connect him with Laodicea. "Laodicea, rather than ColossÆ."On the whole this appears to be the more probable solution^[699]. Laodicea was within walking distance of ColossÆ^[700]. Archippus must have been in constant communication with his parents, who lived there; and it was therefore quite natural that, writing to the father and mother, St Paul should mention the son’s name also in the opening address, though he was not on the spot. An early tradition, if it be not a critical inference from the allusion in the Colossian letter, makes him bishop not of ColossÆ, but of Laodicea^[701].

Of the apprehensions which the Apostle seems to have entertained respecting Archippus, I have already spoken^[702]. It is not improbable that they were suggested by his youth and inexperience. St Paul here addresses him as his ‘fellow-soldier^[703],’ but we are not informed on what spiritual campaigns they had served in company. Of his subsequent career we have no trustworthy evidence. Tradition represents him as having suffered martyrdom at ColossÆ with his father and mother.

4. But far more important to the history of Christianity than the parents or the son of the family, is the servant. The name Onesimus was very commonly borne by slaves. Like other words signifying utility, worth, and so forth, it naturally lent itself to this purpose^[704]. Accordingly the inscriptions offer a very large number of examples in which it appears as the name of some slave or freedman^[705]; "A servile name."and even where this is not the case, the accompaniments frequently show that the person was of servile descent, though he might never himself have been a slave^[706]. Indeed it occurs more than once as a fictitious name for a slave^[707], a fact which points significantly to the social condition naturally suggested by it. In the inscriptions of proconsular Asia it is found^[708]; but no stress can be laid on this coincidence, for its occurrence as a proper name was doubtless coextensive with the use of the Greek language. More important is the fact that in the early history of Christianity it attains some eminence in this region. "Its prominence among the Christians of proconsular Asia."One Onesimus is bishop of Ephesus in the first years of the second century, when Ignatius passes through Asia Minor on his way to martyrdom, and is mentioned by the saint in terms of warm affection and respect^[709]. Another, apparently an influential layman, about half a century later urges Melito bishop of Sardis to compile a volume of extracts from the scriptures; and to him this father dedicates the work when completed^[710]. Thus it would appear that the memory of the Colossian slave had invested the name with a special popularity among Christians in this district.

Onesimus represented the least respectable type of the least respectable class in the social scale. He was regarded by philosophers as a ‘live chattel’, a ‘live implement^[711]’; and he had taken philosophy at her word. He had done what a chattel or an implement might be expected to do, if endued with life and intelligence. He was treated by the law as having no rights^[712]; and he had carried the principles of the law to their logical consequences. He had declined to entertain any responsibilities. There was absolutely nothing to recommend him. He was a slave, and what was worse, a Phrygian slave; and he had confirmed the popular estimate of his class^[713] and nation^[714] by his own conduct. He was a thief and a runaway. His offence did not differ in any way, so far as we know, from the vulgar type of slavish offences. He seems to have done just what the representative slave in the Roman comedy threatens to do, when he gets into trouble. He had ‘packed up some goods and taken to his heels^[715].’ Rome was the natural cesspool for these offscourings of humanity^[716]. In the thronging crowds of the metropolis was his best hope of secresy. In the dregs of the city rabble he would find the society of congenial spirits.

But at Rome the Apostle spread his net for him, and he was caught in its meshes. How he first came in contact with the imprisoned missionary, we can only conjecture. Was it an accidental encounter with his fellow-townsman Epaphras in the streets of Rome which led to the interview? Was it the pressure of want which induced him to seek alms from one whose large-hearted charity must have been a household word in his master’s family? Or did the memory of solemn words, which he had chanced to overhear at those weekly gatherings in the upper chamber at ColossÆ, haunt him in his loneliness, till, yielding to the fascination, he was constrained to unburden himself to the one man who could soothe his terrors and satisfy his yearnings? Whatever motive may have drawn him to the Apostle’s side—whether the pangs of hunger or the gnawings of conscience—when he was once within the range of attraction, he could not escape. "and conversion."He listened, was impressed, was convinced, was baptized. The slave of Philemon became the freedman of Christ^[717]. St Paul found not only a sincere convert, but a devoted friend, in his latest son in the faith. Aristotle had said that there ought not to be, and could not be, any friendship with a slave qua slave, though there might be qua man^[718]; and others had held still stronger language to the same effect. The Apostle did not recognize the philosopher’s subtle distinction. For him the conventional barrier between slave and free had altogether vanished before the dissolving presence of an eternal verity^[719]. "St Paul’s affection for him."He found in Onesimus something more than a slave, a beloved brother both as a slave and as a man, ‘both in the flesh and in the Lord^[720].’ The great capacity for good which appears in the typical slave of Greek and Roman fiction, notwithstanding all the fraud and profligacy overlying it, was evoked and developed here by the inspiration of a new faith and the incentive of a new hope. The genial, affectionate, winning disposition, purified and elevated by a higher knowledge, had found its proper scope. Altogether this new friendship was a solace and a strength to the Apostle in his weary captivity, which he could ill afford to forego. To take away Onesimus was to tear out Paul’s heart^[721].

But there was an imperious demand for the sacrifice. Onesimus had repented, but he had not made restitution. He could only do this by submitting again to the servitude from which he had escaped. Philemon must be made to feel that, when Onesimus was gained for Christ, he was regained for his old master also. But if the claim of duty demanded a great sacrifice from Paul, it demanded a greater still from Onesimus. "notwithstanding the risk."By returning he would place himself entirely at the mercy of the master whom he had wronged. Roman law, more cruel than Athenian, practically imposed no limits to the power of the master over his slave^[722]. The alternative of life or death rested solely with Philemon, and slaves were constantly crucified for far lighter offences than his^[723]. A thief and a runaway, he laid no claim to forgiveness.

"supplemented by the Apostle’s letter."

A favourable opportunity occurred for restoring Onesimus to his master. Tychicus, as the bearer of letters from the Apostle to Laodicea and ColossÆ, had occasion to visit those parts. He might undertake the office of mediator, and plead the cause of the penitent slave with the offended master. Under his shelter Onesimus would be safer than if he encountered Philemon alone. But St Paul is not satisfied with this precaution. He will with his own hand write a few words of eager affectionate entreaty, identifying himself with the cause of Onesimus. So he takes up his pen.

After the opening salutation to Philemon and the members of his family, he expresses his thankfulness for the report which has reached his ears of his friend’s charitable deeds. It is a great joy and encouragement to the Apostle that so many brethren have had cause to bless his name. This wide-spread reputation for kindliness emboldens him to reveal his object in writing. Though he has a right to command, he prefers rather to entreat. He has a petition to prefer on behalf of a child of his own. This is none other than Onesimus, whom Philemon will remember only as a worthless creature, altogether untrue to his name, but who now is a reformed man. He would have wished to detain Onesimus, for he can ill afford to dispense with his loving services. Indeed Philemon would doubtless have been glad thus to minister vicariously to the Apostle’s wants. But a benefit which wears the appearance of being forced, whether truly so or not, loses all its value, and therefore he sends him back. Nay, there may have been in this desertion a Divine providence which it would ill become him Paul to thwart. Onesimus may have been withheld from Philemon for a time, that he might be restored to him for ever. He may have left as a slave, that he might return more than a slave. To others—to the Apostle himself especially—he is now a dearly beloved brother. Must he not be this and more than this to Philemon, whether in earthly things or in heavenly things? He therefore begs Philemon to receive Onesimus as he would receive himself. As for any injury that he may have done, as for any money that he may owe, the Apostle makes himself responsible for this. The present letter may be accepted as a bond, a security for repayment. Yet at the same time he cannot refrain from reminding Philemon that he might fairly claim the remission of so small an amount. Does not his friend owe to him his own soul besides? Yes, he has a right to look for some filial gratitude and duty from one to whom he stands in the relation of a spiritual father. Philemon will surely not refuse him this comfort in his many trials. He writes in the full confidence that he will be obeyed; he is quite sure that his friend will do more than is asked of him. At the same time he trusts to see him before very long, and to talk over this and other matters. Philemon may provide him a lodging: for he hopes through their prayers that he may be liberated, and given back to them. Then follow the salutations, and the letter ends with the Apostle’s benediction.

Of the result of this appeal we have no certain knowledge. It is reasonable to suppose however that Philemon would not belie the Apostle’s hopes; that he would receive the slave as a brother; that he would even go beyond the expressed terms of the Apostle’s petition, and emancipate the penitent. But all this is a mere conjecture. One tradition makes Onesimus bishop of Ephesus^[724]. But this obviously arises from a confusion with his namesake, who lived about half a century later^[725]. "Legendary history."Another story points to Beroea in Macedonia as his see^[726]. This is at least free from the suspicion of having been suggested by any notice in the Apostolic writings: but the authority on which it rests does not entitle it to much credit. The legend of his missionary labours in Spain and of his martyrdom at Rome may have been built on the hypothesis of his continuing in the Apostle’s company, following in the Apostle’s footsteps, and sharing the Apostle’s fate. Another story, which gives a circumstantial account of his martyrdom at Puteoli, seems to confuse him with a namesake who suffered, or was related to have suffered, in the Decian persecution^[727].

The estimate formed of this epistle at various epochs has differed widely. In the fourth century there was a strong bias against it. The ‘spirit of the age’ had no sympathy with either the subject or the handling. Like the spirit of more than one later age, it was enamoured of its own narrowness, which it mistook for largeness of view, and it could not condescend to such trivialities as were here offered to it. Its maxim seemed to be De minimis non curat evangelium. Of what account was the fate of a single insignificant slave, long since dead and gone, to those before whose eyes the battle of the creeds was still raging? This letter taught them nothing about questions of theological interest, nothing about matters of ecclesiastical discipline; and therefore they would have none of it. They denied that it had been written by St Paul. It mattered nothing to them that the Church from the earliest ages had accepted it as genuine, that even the remorseless ‘higher criticism’ of a Marcion had not ventured to lay hands on it^[728]. It was wholly unworthy of the Apostle. If written by him, they contended, it must have been written when he was not under the influence of the Spirit: its contents were altogether so unedifying. "Reply of the fathers."We may infer from the replies of Jerome^[729], of Chrysostom^[730], and of Theodore of Mopsuestia^[731], that they felt themselves to be stemming a fierce current of prejudice which had set in this direction. But they were strong in the excellence of their cause, and they nobly vindicated this epistle against its assailants.

In modern times there has been no disposition to under-rate its value. Even Luther and Calvin, whose bias tended to the depreciation of the ethical as compared with the doctrinal portions of the scriptures, show a true appreciation of its beauty and significance. "Luther."‘This epistle’, writes Luther, ‘showeth a right noble lovely example of Christian love. Here we see how St Paul layeth himself out for poor Onesimus, and with all his means pleadeth his cause with his master: and so setteth himself as if he were Onesimus, and had himself done wrong to Philemon. Even as Christ did for us with God the Father, thus also doth St Paul for Onesimus with Philemon.... We are all his Onesimi, to my thinking’. "Calvin."‘Though he handleth a subject’, says Calvin, ‘which otherwise were low and mean, yet after his manner he is borne up aloft unto God. With such modest entreaty doth he humble himself on behalf of the lowest of men, that scarce anywhere else is the gentleness of his spirit portrayed more truly to the life.’ And the chorus of admiration has been swelled by later voices from the most opposite quarters. "Later writers."‘The single Epistle to Philemon,’ says one quoted by Bengel, ‘very far surpasses all the wisdom of the world’^[732]. ‘Nowhere’, writes Ewald, ‘can the sensibility and warmth of a tender friendship blend more beautifully with the loftier feeling of a commanding spirit, a teacher and an Apostle, than in this letter, at once so brief, and yet so surpassingly full and significant^[733].’ ‘A true little chef d’oeuvre of the art of letter-writing,’ exclaims M. Renan characteristically^[734]. ‘We have here’, writes Sabatier, ‘only a few familiar lines, but so full of grace, of salt, of serious and trustful affection, that this short epistle gleams like a pearl of the most exquisite purity in the rich treasure of the New Testament^[735]’. Even Baur, while laying violent hands upon it, is constrained to speak of this ‘little letter’ as ‘making such an agreeable impression by its attractive form’ and as penetrated ‘with the noblest Christian spirit’^[736].

The Epistle to Philemon has more than once been compared with the following letter addressed to a friend by the younger Pliny on a somewhat similar occasion^[737]:

Your freedman, with whom you had told me you were vexed, came to me, and throwing himself down before me clung to my feet, as if they had been yours. He was profuse in his tears and his entreaties; he was profuse also in his silence. In short, he convinced me of his penitence. I believe that he is indeed a reformed character, because he feels that he has done wrong. You are angry, I know; and you have reason to be angry, this also I know: but mercy wins the highest praise just when there is the most righteous cause for anger. You loved the man, and, I hope, will continue to love him: meanwhile it is enough, that you should allow yourself to yield to his prayers. You may be angry again, if he deserves it; and in this you will be the more readily pardoned if you yield now. Concede something to his youth, something to his tears, something to your own indulgent disposition. Do not torture him, lest you torture yourself at the same time. For it is torture to you, when one of your gentle temper is angry. I am afraid lest I should appear not to ask but to compel, if I should add my prayers to his. Yet I will add them the more fully and unreservedly, because I scolded the man himself with sharpness and severity; for I threatened him straitly that I would never ask you again. This I said to him, for it was necessary to alarm him; but I do not use the same language to you. For perchance I shall ask again, and shall be successful again; only let my request be such, as it becomes me to prefer and you to grant. Farewell.

The younger Pliny is the noblest type of a true Roman gentleman, and this touching letter needs no words of praise. Yet, if purity of diction be excepted, there will hardly be any difference of opinion in awarding the palm to the Christian Apostle. As an expression of simple dignity, of refined courtesy, of large sympathy, and of warm personal affection, the Epistle to Philemon stands unrivalled. And its pre-eminence is the more remarkable because in style it is exceptionally loose. It owes nothing to the graces of rhetoric; its effect is due solely to the spirit of the writer.

But the interest which attaches to this short epistle as an expression of individual character is far less important than its significance as exhibiting the attitude of Christianity to a widely spread and characteristic social institution of the ancient world.

Slavery was practised by the Hebrews under the sanction of the Mosaic law, not less than by the Greeks and Romans. But though the same in name, it was in its actual working something wholly different. The Hebrew was not suffered either by law-giver or by prophet to forget that he himself had been a bondman in the land of Egypt; and all his relations to his dependents were moulded by the sympathy of this recollection. His slaves were members of his family; they were members also of the Holy Congregation. They had their religious, as well as their social, rights. If Hebrews, their liberty was secured to them after six years’ service at the outside. If foreigners, they were protected by the laws from the tyranny and violence of their masters. Considering the conditions of ancient society, and more especially of ancient warfare, slavery as practised among the Hebrews was probably an escape from alternatives which would have involved a far greater amount of human misery. Still even in this form it was only a temporary concession, till the fulness of time came, and the world was taught that ‘in Christ is neither bond nor free^[738]’.

Among the Jews the slaves formed only a small fraction of the whole population^[739]. They occupy a very insignificant place in the pictures of Hebrew life and history which have been handed down to us. "Large number of slaves in Greece and Rome."But in Greece and Rome the case was far different. In our enthusiastic eulogies of free, enlightened, democratic Athens, we are apt to forget that the interests of the many were ruthlessly sacrificed to the selfishness of the few. The slaves of Attica on the most probable computation were about four times as numerous as the citizens, and about three times as numerous as the whole free population of the state, including the resident aliens^[740]. They were consigned for the most part to labour in gangs in the fields or the mines or the factories, without any hope of bettering their condition. In the light of these facts we see what was really meant by popular government and equal rights at Athens. The proportions of the slave population elsewhere were even greater. In the small island of Ægina, scarcely exceeding forty English square miles in extent, there were 470,000 slaves; in the contracted territory of Corinth there were not less than 460,000^[741]. The statistics of slave-holding in Italy are quite as startling. We are told that wealthy Roman landowners sometimes possessed as many as ten or twenty thousand slaves, or even more^[742]. We may indeed not unreasonably view these vague and general statements with suspicion: but it is a fact that, a few years before the Christian era, one Claudius Isidorus left by will more than four thousand slaves, though he had incurred serious losses by the civil war^[743].

And these vast masses of human beings had no protection from Roman law^[744]. The slave had no relationships, no conjugal rights. Cohabitation was allowed to him at his owner’s pleasure, but not marriage. His companion was sometimes assigned to him by lot^[745]. The slave was absolutely at his master’s disposal; for the smallest offence he might be scourged, mutilated, crucified, thrown to the wild beasts^[746]. Only two or three years before the letter to Philemon was written, and probably during St Paul’s residence in Rome, a terrible tragedy had been enacted under the sanction of the law^[747]. "Murder of Pedanius Secundus."Pedanius Secundus, a senator, had been slain by one of his slaves in a fit of anger or jealousy. The law demanded that in such cases all the slaves under the same roof at the time should be put to death. On the present occasion four hundred persons were condemned to suffer by this inhuman enactment. The populace however interposed to rescue them, and a tumult ensued. The Senate accordingly took the matter into deliberation. Among the speakers C. Cassius strongly advocated the enforcement of the law. ‘The disposition of slaves,’ he argued, ‘were regarded with suspicion by our ancestors, even when they were born on the same estates or in the same houses and learnt to feel an affection for their masters from the first. Now however, when we have several nations among our slaves, with various rites, with foreign religions or none at all, it is not possible to keep down such a rabble except by fear.’ These sentiments prevailed, and the law was put in force. But the roads were lined by a military guard, as the prisoners were led to execution, to prevent a popular outbreak. This incident illustrates not only the heartless cruelty of the law, but also the social dangers arising out of slavery. Indeed the universal distrust had already found expression in a common proverb,‘As many enemies as slaves^[748].’ But this was not the only way in which slavery avenged itself on the Romans. The spread of luxury and idleness was a direct consequence of the state of things. Work came to be regarded as a low and degrading, because a servile occupation. Meanwhile sensuality in its vilest forms was fostered by the tremendous power which placed the slave at the mercy of the master’s worst passions^[749].

With this wide-spread institution Christianity found itself in conflict. How was the evil to be met? Slavery was inwoven into the texture of society; and to prohibit slavery was to tear society into shreds. Nothing less than a servile war with its certain horrors and its doubtful issues must have been the consequence. Such a mode of operation was altogether alien to the spirit of the Gospel. ‘The New Testament’, it has been truly said, ‘is not concerned with any political or social institutions; for political and social institutions belong to particular nations and particular phases of society’. ‘Nothing marks the divine character of the Gospel more than its perfect freedom from any appeal to the spirit of political revolution^[750]’. It belongs to all time: and therefore, instead of attacking special abuses, it lays down universal principles which shall undermine the evil.

Hence the Gospel never directly attacks slavery as an institution: the Apostles never command the liberation of slaves as an absolute duty. It is a remarkable fact that St Paul in this epistle stops short of any positive injunction. The word ‘emancipation’ seems to be trembling on his lips, and yet he does not once utter it. He charges Philemon to take the runaway slave Onesimus into his confidence again; to receive him with all affection; to regard him no more as a slave but as a brother; to treat him with the same consideration, the same love, which he entertains for the Apostle himself to whom he owes everything. In fact he tells him to do very much more than emancipate his slave, but this one thing he does not directly enjoin. St Paul’s treatment of this individual case is an apt illustration of the attitude of Christianity towards slavery in general.

Similar also is his language elsewhere. Writing to the Corinthians, he declares the absolute equality of the freeman and the slave in the sight of God^[751]. It follows therefore that the slave may cheerfully acquiesce in his lot, knowing that all earthly distinctions vanish in the light of this eternal truth. If his freedom should be offered to him, he will do well to accept it, for it puts him in a more advantageous position^[752]: but meanwhile he need not give himself any concern about his lot in life. So again, when he addresses the Ephesians and Colossians on the mutual obligations of masters and slaves, he is content to insist on the broad fact that both alike are slaves of a heavenly Master, and to enforce the duties which flow from its recognition^[753]. He has no word of reproach for the masters on the injustice of their position; he breathes no hint to the slaves of a social grievance needing redress.

But meanwhile a principle is boldly enunciated, which must in the end prove fatal to slavery. When the Gospel taught that God had made all men and women upon earth of one family; that all alike were His sons and His daughters; that, whatever conventional distinctions human society might set up, the supreme King of Heaven refused to acknowledge any; that the slave notwithstanding his slavery was Christ’s freedman, and the free notwithstanding his liberty was Christ’s slave; when the Church carried out this principle by admitting the slave to her highest privileges, inviting him to kneel side by side with his master at the same holy table; when in short the Apostolic precept that ‘in Christ Jesus is neither bond nor free’ was not only recognised but acted upon, then slavery was doomed. Henceforward it was only a question of time. Here was the idea which must act as a solvent, must disintegrate this venerable institution, however deeply rooted and however widely spread. "Its general tendency."‘The brotherhood of man, in short, is the idea which Christianity in its social phase has been always striving to realise, and the progress of which constitutes the social history of Christendom. With what difficulties this idea has struggled; how it has been marred by revolutionary violence, as well as impeded by reactionary selfishness; to what chimerical hopes, to what wild schemes, to what calamitous disappointments, to what desperate conflicts, it has given birth; how often being misunderstood and misapplied, it has brought not peace on earth but a sword—it is needless here to rehearse. Still, as we look back over the range of past history, we can see beyond doubt that it is towards this goal that Christianity as a social principle has been always tending and still tends^[754].’

And this beneficent tendency of the Gospel was felt at once in its effects on slavery. The Church indeed, even in the ardour of her earliest love, did not prohibit her sons from retaining slaves in their households. It is quite plain from extant notices, that in the earlier centuries, as in the later, Christians owned slaves^[755] like their heathen neighbours, without forfeiting consideration among their fellow-believers. But nevertheless the Christian idea was not a dead-letter. "Protection and manumission of slaves."The chivalry of the Gospel which regarded the weak and helpless from whatever cause, as its special charge, which extended its protection to the widow, the orphan, the sick, the aged, and the prisoner, was not likely to neglect the slave. Accordingly we find that one of the earliest forms which Christian benevolence took was the contribution of funds for the liberation of slaves^[756]. "Honours paid to slave martyrs."But even more important than overt acts like these was the moral and social importance with which the slave was now invested. Among the heroes and heroines of the Church were found not a few members of this class. When slave girls like Blandina in Gaul or Felicitas in Africa, having won for themselves the crown of martyrdom, were celebrated in the festivals of the Church with honours denied to the most powerful and noblest born of mankind, social prejudice had received a wound which could never be healed.

While the Church was still kept in subjection, moral influence and private enterprise were her only weapons. But Christianity was no sooner seated on the throne of the CÆsars than its influence began to be felt in the imperial policy^[757]. "Legislation of Constantine."The legislation of Constantine, despite its startling inequalities, forms a unique chapter in the statute book of Rome. In its mixed character indeed it reflects the transitional position of its author. But after all allowance made for its very patent defects, its general advance in the direction of humanity and purity is far greater than can be traced in the legislation even of the most humane and virtuous of his heathen predecessors. More especially in the extension of legal protection to slaves, and in the encouragement given to emancipation, we have an earnest of the future work which Christianity was destined to do for this oppressed class of mankind, though the relief which it gave was after all very partial and tentative^[758].

And on the whole this part has been faithfully and courageously performed by the Church. There have been shameful exceptions now and then: there has been occasional timidity and excess of caution. The commentaries of the fathers on this epistle are an illustration of this latter fault^[759]. Much may be pardoned to men who shrink from seeming to countenance a violent social revolution. But notwithstanding, it is a broad and patent fact that throughout the early and middle ages the influence of the Church was exerted strongly on the side of humanity in this matter^[760]. The emancipation of slaves was regarded as a principal aim of the higher Christian life^[761]; the amelioration of serfdom was a matter of constant solicitude with the rulers of the Church.

And at length we seem to see the beginning of the end. The rapid strides towards emancipation during the present generation are without a parallel in the history of the world. The abolition of slavery throughout the British Empire at an enormous material sacrifice is one of the greatest moral conquests which England has ever achieved. The liberation of twenty millions of serfs throughout the Russian dominions has thrown a halo of glory round the name of Alexander II., which no time can dim. The emancipation of the negro in the vast republic of the New World was a victory not less important than either to the well-being of the human race. Thus within the short period of little more than a quarter of a century this reproach of civilisation and humanity has been wiped out in the three greatest empires of the world. It is a fit sequel to these achievements, that at length a well directed attack should have been made on the central fortress of slavery and the slave-trade, the interior of Africa. May we not venture to predict that in future ages, when distance of view shall have adjusted the true relations of events, when the brilliancy of empires and the fame of wars shall have sunk to their proper level of significance, this epoch will stand out in the history of mankind as the era of liberation? If so, the Epistle to Philemon, as the earliest prelude to these magnificent social victories, must be invested with more than common interest for our generation.