The Fourth Edict

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 10
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By a fourth edict the orders which applied only to the clergy were now to be extended to the whole body of Christians. The magistrates were directed to make free use of torture for forcing all Christians—men, women, and children—into the worship of the gods. Diocletian and his colleagues were now committed to the desperate but unequal contest. The powers of darkness—the whole Roman empire—stood, armed, determined, pledged, to the defense of ancient polytheism, and to the complete extermination of the christian name. To retreat would be the confession of weakness; to be successful the adversary must be exterminated; as to victory there could be none, for the Christians made no resistance. Historically, it was the final and fearful struggle between paganism and Christianity; the contest was now at its height, and drawing to a crisis.
Public proclamation was made through the streets of the cities, that men, women, and children, were all to repair to the temples of the gods. All must undergo the fiery ordeal -sacrifice or die. Every individual was summoned by name from lists previously made out. At the city gates all were subjected to rigid examination, and such as were found to be Christians were immediately secured.
Details of the sufferings and martyrdoms that followed would fill volumes. As edict followed edict, in rapid succession and in wrathful severity, the spirit of martyrdom revived; it rose higher and higher, until men and women, in place of being seized and dragged to the funeral piles, leaped into the burning flames, as if ascending to heaven in a chariot of fire. Whole families were put to various kinds of death; some by fire, others by water, after enduring severe tortures; some perished by famine, others by crucifixion; and some were fastened with their heads downwards, and preserved alive, that they might die a lingering death. In some places as many as ten, twenty, sixty, and even a hundred men and women, with their little ones, were martyred by various torments in one day.
In almost every part of the Roman world such scenes of pitiless barbarity continued with more or less severity for the long period of ten years. Constantius alone, of all the emperors, contrived to shelter the Christians in the west, especially in Gaul, where he resided. But in all other places they were given up to all sorts of cruelties and injuries, without the liberty to appeal to the authorities, and without the smallest protection from the State. Free leave was given to the heathen populace to practice all sorts of excesses against the Christians. Under these circumstances the reader may easily imagine what they were constantly exposed to, both in their persons and estates. Each one felt sure of never being called to account for any violence he might be guilty of towards the Christians. But the sufferings of the men, however great, seemed little compared with those of the women. The fear of exposure and violence was more dreaded than mere death.
Take one example. "A certain holy and devout female," says Eusebius, "admirable for her virtue, and illustrious above all in Antioch for her wealth, family, and reputation, had educated her two daughters—now in the bloom of life, noted for their beauty—in the principles of piety. Their concealment was traced, and they were caught in the toils of the soldiery. The mother, being at a loss for herself and her daughters, knowing what was before them, suggested that it was better to die, betaking themselves to the aid of Christ, than fall into the hands of the brutal soldiers. After this, all agreeing to the same thing, and having requested the guards for a little time, they cast themselves into the flowing river, to escape a greater evil." Although this act cannot be fully justified, it must be judged with many considerations. They were driven to despair. And sure we are that the Lord knows how to forgive all that is wrong in the action, and to give us full credit for all that is right in our motives.
For a moment the persecutors vainly imagined that they would triumph over the downfall of Christianity. Pillars were raised, and medals were struck, to the honor of Diocletian and Galerius, for having extinguished the christian superstition, and for restoring the worship of the gods. But He who sits in heaven was at that very moment overruling the very wrath of these men for the complete deliverance and triumph of His people, and the acknowledged defeat and downfall of their enemies. They could martyr Christians, demolish churches, and burn books; but the living springs of Christianity were beyond their reach.