sentative of Greek philosophy.

Herein lies the

unique significance of his work. That he has sometimes confused what we deem to be catholic truth with the vagaries of Gnostic speculation, that he has misinterpreted the details of some dogmas, is true; but, on the whole, he has an accurate conception of the great essentials of Christianity, its distinctive position and claims. Even from a purely historical or literary point of view, few records are more interesting than this survival of an ancient yet everrecurring conflict: to the student of apologetics it is of the deepest import. The very fact of such an attack, apart altogether from its force, is an index of the progress of the Gospel. It is to the credit of Celsus that he was the first to recognise that the time for silence and contempt had passed, and that the new faith was not to be put in the same rank with the numberless claimants on the credulity of the populace, but was a phenomenal force demanding serious inquiry. The method of attack has determined the character of the defence, and some sections of both have become antiquated, but in its leading ideas the work of Celsus might have been written yesterday; and though every apologetic treatise takes its form and colour from the age in which it was written, and the circumstances which called it forth, our analysis and presentation in systematic form of the defence of Origen will be defective if it does not show that the

great and vital principles in Christian Apologetics were clearly formulated and developed by him.

The value and interest of the work depend in great measure on the date to which it can be definitely or probably assigned. An early inquirer,1 with singular blindness, ascribed it to the age of Nero; a recent writer,2 influenced by a dogmatic bias fatal to historical insight, holds that Celsus was a contemporary of Origen, and that his book was written about 240. With one exception, all the statements of Origen concerning him are given as from hearsay, or are purely hypothetical. That exception is the statement that he was dead long ago. We must therefore turn to the work itself, as we find it embedded in the reply of Origen. There we find indications somewhat indefinite, yet sufficient to establish a reasonable probability that the work was written between 169 and 176, when Marcus Aurelius was sole ruler, or between 176 and 180, when the empire was under the joint sway of Marcus Aurelius and Commodus.4

The position of the Church, both in its internal and external relations, seems to point to that period.

1 P. Faydit, 1695.

2 Volkmar-Der Ursprung unserer Evangelien, pp. 80, 164, 165. 3 ἤδη καὶ πάλαι νεκρού-Pref., c. 4.

4 No satisfactory argument can be based on the coincidences between Celsus and Minucius Felix, as the date of the latter and his relation to Tertullian are matters of keen controversy. For an interesting résumé of the relative literature, see an article by Massebieau, 'Revue de l'Histoire des Religions,' vol. xv. p. 316.

3

Gnostic teaching is in full vigour. Marcionitism is a living force.1 Celsus speaks of a body which, because of its relative greatness or authority, he calls the "Great Church," 2 and yet refers to the teaching of the Ophites as Christian. Origen supposes that this was done by Celsus in ill faith, but in this he erred. We may therefore think of a time when the essentially unchristian character of the source of their teaching had not yet been formally recognised. The reference to the tenets of various obscure heretical sects which had escaped the search of Origen tends to throw back the date to a period immediately subsequent to their first promulgation. In speaking of such as illustrating the tendency to continuous schisms in the Church, Celsus makes mention of the followers of Marcellina, who, according to Irenæus,5 came to Rome in the episcopate of Anicetus. From such indications it is clear that the True Word' cannot have been written before 170. Against this in favour of an earlier date has been urged the allusion to Antinous, who was drowned in 130, it being deemed impossible that the worship of that favourite of Hadrian could long survive the emperor himself. But it is evident from the medals and inscriptions,

4

1 vi. 51-53, 74, 29.

2 τῶν ἀπὸ μεγάλης ἐκκλησίας τοῦτο ὁμολογούντων-ν. 59.

3 vii. 40.

4 v. 62.

Anicetus was bishop, 155-165

5 Iren. con. Hæres., i. 25, 6. (Lightfoot's Clement, vol. i. p. 327).

and even from the words of Origen, that the worship of Antinous had not ceased by the middle of the third century.1

This view is confirmed by a consideration of the relation of the Church to the empire. It was a time of persecution.2 Keim may be in error in holding that there is convincing evidence of a general persecution; but the conditions are not satisfied by the theory of a few sporadic cases. The view that the passages quoted only express a pious wish on the part of a bitter enemy is grotesque. The endeavour to propitiate the Christians at the close, unless it be regarded as ironical, is adverse to the supposition of a general persecution; or it may be an indication that it had begun to decline, or had lasted long enough to prove to an acute observer its futility as a method of suppressing Christianity.

3

4

When the work was written, the barbarians were threatening the stability of the empire. The language suggests a measure of alarm greater than was likely to be created by the first threatened onset, but which would be natural in view of former experience. 1 In Dietrichson's monograph on Antinoos" ample proof may be found. He quotes inscriptions (p. 327) of dates from 180-183, and shows that games were celebrated in his honour down at least to 221 (p. 331). Cf. iii. 36.

2 i. 3; ii. 45; viii. 39, 49, 69.

3 Jachmann-De Celso Philosopho (1836). Pelagaud-Étude sur Celse, p. 201.

4 viii. 68.

We are therefore not to think of the collision with the Marcomanni in 166, but of a later attack which, in the judgment of one well qualified to read the signs of the times, was near at hand. The conditions seem adapted to some date between the defeat of Avidius Cassius in 175, and the disasters that befell the empire at the hands of the Parthians and Marcomanni in 178.

Celsus, if Origen quotes accurately, speaks now of one ruler, now of more than one.1 By most writers it has been assumed that the phrase "the present rulers" points to a joint sovereignty. It is doubtful whether the phrase necessarily refers to the chief rulers, and not generally to persons in authority. When enforcing the duty of loyalty, especially in view of the irruptions of the barbarians, he speaks of the danger of the king being left alone. Would a writer have dared to speak of one when two were reigning? or to speak of two when there was but one sovereign? The probabilities are in favour of the view of a single ruler. Accustomed to joint rulers for a long series of years, the writer is more likely to have made a slip when he spoke of more than one than when he spoke of one. Perhaps we may find a solution by fixing on the transition period when the Emperor Aurelius was sole ruler, and the assumption of a colleague was on the eve of being accomplished. 1 ὁ βασιλεῦς —viii. 68, 73. οἱ νῦν βασιλεύοντες—viii. 71.