Having given some definition of apologetics, and having said what texts I am not talking about, I need to turn to Latin apologies proper: those by Tertullian, Minucius Felix, and Cyprian. (On Arnobius and Lactantius, see below, Ch. 9.) The texts with which I am concerned are the five treatises of Tertullian, To the Gentiles, Apology, On the Evidence of the Soul, On the Philosopher’s Cloak, and To Scapula; Minucius Felix’ Octavius; and Cyprian’s To Demetrianus (details of the texts are given in the Bibliography). From the extensive bibliography on Latin apologetic, the best starting-points are the books by Barnes and Danielou; that by Rives is excellent on the pagan background and on Christian authority (though silent on the Christian works dealing with the boundary between Christians and pagans).
Let us start with Tertullian, who wrote in Carthage at the turn of the second and third centuries. The first two treatises are very closely related, both in date and in argument, so much so that some have seen To the Gentiles as a primitive draft of the Apology.
The case is complicated by the fact that the text we have of To the Gentiles may be missing a page at the start, and is fragmentary at the end. It is also complicated by the existence of two quite different manuscript traditions of the Apology: one manuscript, the long-lost Codex Fuldensis, has readings and passages not present in the rest of the manuscripts. Citations of the work in late antiquity cite both the majority tradition and that represented for us by the Codex Fuldensis; they also offer one authentic reading that is corrupt in all our extant manuscripts. It seems clear that the work went through at least one rewrite by the author, and that at least two versions entered the public domain. But it does not follow that the two works are drafts of each other: similar points do reappear in the two works, but the overall focus is quite different; they seek to refute an overlapping, but largely discrete, set of charges.
The differences between these two works become clearer if one looks at the addressees of each work. The title of To the Gentiles (Ad nationes) is reasonably secure, despite the loss of the manuscript title-page. Though Jerome gives the title asContra gentes (Letter 70, 5), Ad nationes is used in the manuscript comments and table of contents, and the treatise regularly uses the word nationes, and not gentes. In looking out to a non-Christian audience, Tertullian had to invent an appropriate Latin term. Unlike his Greek predecessors, Tertullian could not address ‘Greeks’ to cover the culture shared with the Eastern world, because the term had such a strong association with competence in the Greek language. Nor could he address ‘Romans’, which would have been far too oppositional. ‘Romans’ designated only Roman citizens, and at the time that Tertullian was writing, it excluded much of the provincial population. It also implied a contrast that he did not want between ‘Roman’ and ‘Greek’. Nationes, on the other hand, was a conveniently neutral (apolitical) term. For the treatise is directed at non-Christians in general, except in the opening chapters on trials of Christians, which invoke Roman governors (I. 2. 2, 3. I). The first paragraph (I. 1) talks about how ‘day after day indeed you groan over the increasing number of Christians. Your constant cry is that the state is beset by us.’ Similarly, the first book ends by saying, ‘How long therefore, O most unjust pagans, will you refuse to acknowledge us, and to execrate your own [gods]?’, and invites the pagans to amend the error of their ways and embrace Christianity (i. 20). This general address accords with the nature of the arguments that Tertullian seeks to refute. Though there is reference to the injustice of trials of Christians (I. 2) and to the iniquitous nature of the laws (I. 6), the treatise attacks non-legal targets. The first book runs through a sequence of popular calumnies against the Christians: they are guilty of infanticide and incest; they are a ‘third race’ in the state and the cause of calamities; they worship the head of an ass or a cross; and they are disloyal to the emperor. The second book offers a critique of Varro’s views on religion, and of the nature of the cults that have spread through the empire under Roman rule. The text is firmly rooted in the popular and intellectual world of his own society.
The Apology, on the other hand, is addressed explicitly to those in authority in the Roman Empire: Romani imperii antistites in the first line (I. 1) and boni praesides on the final page (30. 12; cf. 30. 7). These phrases refer specifically to Roman governors, and not, as has been suggested, also to local, civic magistrates, who at this date were involved merely in arresting, not trying, Christians. The governors are distinguished more than once from the populace allegedly baying for Christian blood: ‘how many, think you, of these persons standing round and panting for Christian blood—how many of calamities; worship of ass’s head; worship of cross; ‘Sun’; ‘Oenocoetes’; disloyalty because of not worshipping emperor; despise death); i. 20, call to discover Christianity; 2. I—8, critique of Varro’s threefold distinction of gods; 2. 9—17, Roman spread of this tradition, though their gods only human, and sometimes immoral; Roman power dependent not on their gods but ours.
you, most just governors (praesides) and most severe upon us, how many should I touch in their consciences for killing their own children, born to them?’ (9. 6). Or again, ‘How often do you wreak your fury on the Christians, in part obeying your own instincts, in part the laws? How often, too, without regard to you, does the unfriendly mob on its own account assail us with stones and fire?’ (37. 2). Again, the addressee concurs neatly with the focus of the treatise. The treatise includes a refutation of popular charges of cannibalism and incest, but mainly deals with the injustice of the laws and the two specific charges of sacrilege and treason, each of which would be of particular concern to a Roman magistrate. Though To the Gentiles is sometimes seen as an inferior first draft of the Apology, in fact the two works are quite different, both in their addressees and their overall arguments.
On the Evidence of the Soul differs from both these works, though it develops an idea floated in Apology, 17. 4—5, and refers back (5. 6) to arguments already advanced in the Apology (19. I—10). The opening has no explicit addressee, but does raise the general problem of how to convince the rivals and persecutors of Christianity from their own authorities that they are untrue to themselves and unjust to the Christians. The treatise rejects the two standard tactics of (a) defending Christianity by finding pagan precursors and (b) attacking pagan differences from Christianity. Instead, it summons as a witness the human soul, as a neutral figure, neither pagan nor Christian, which might give weight to the Christian case. By the final chapter (6) the addressee is explicitly a pagan who fears to become a Christian. The work deals not with pagan criticisms of Christianity, but with what common ground there might be between the two sides that could lead to conversion of the pagan.
On the Philosopher’s Cloak develops the idea of conversion of pagans. It opens with an address to ‘people of Carthage, the leaders of Africa, who are both noble and fortunate’, and argues that they ought to wear not the Roman toga but the pallium, which was both their own ancestral dress and something worn by practitioners of the liberal arts. The twist right at the end of this clever (and difficult) text is to suggest that the pallium is now further ennobled by being the garment of Christians.
The final apologetic work by Tertullian—indeed, possibly his final work—reverts to the form of the Apology. To Scapula addresses not Roman governors in general, but the actual Roman proconsul of Africa of 212 ce. Tertullian explains at the beginning that he does not fear Scapula’s rage, and has sent the tract to him ‘in no alarm about ourselves, but in much concern for you and for all our enemies, to say nothing about our friends’ (I). The treatise does not repeat at length the main arguments of the Apology, simply stating briefly that it is the non-Christians who are guilty of sacrilege and treason. Instead, it comments on God’s anger at the shedding of Christian blood (drought and fires), and claims belated repentance by some other persecuting governors (3). In conclusion, the treatise seeks to head off the mooted intention of Scapula to persecute Christians, which had given rise to threats and blackmail against Christians from Roman soldiers and private enemies of the Christians (5). This occasional tract turns the general and much longer arguments of the Apology to an immediate, practical purpose.
We shall turn now to Minucius Felix’ Octavius. This work has no specific addressee, and is only by implication an exoteric treatise. The opening chapter dwells on the memory of Octavius and what seems to be his death, and focuses on one particular conversation of his. ‘It was by this conversation that he had converted to the true religion Caecilius, who was at that time still clinging to superstitious folly’ (I. 3). The ensuing debate between Octavius and Caecilius is set very firmly and even vividly at Rome, or rather just outside Rome on the sea-shore at Ostia. The (anonymous) narrator had, like Octavius himself, originally been a pagan, but had long since converted to Christianity (I. 4; 3. I), and explicitly rejoices both in the success of Octavius’ case and in the conversion of Caecilius (40. 3). There are numerous parallels both of language and of material between Tertullian and Minucius Felix, which has encouraged scholars to attempt to determine who wrote first. The problem with attempts to date the works on purely internal grounds is that the two treatises have such different arguments that ‘parallels’ cannot establish the priority of either author. External evidence offers better grounds for dating Minucius Felix. A second-century date for him seems likely if the passage of Fronto to which Minucius Felix refers was an incidental reference to Christians, rather than a speech specifically against the Christians: Felix’ reference is much more likely if the text of Fronto was recent and topical. In addition, Minucius Felix seems to be responding to another second-century text, by Aulus Gellius (18. I), a dialogue on happiness between Stoic and Peripatetic philosophers which is actually set at Ostia. Incidentally, Minucius Felix’ lack of interest in persecution is no argument in favour of a third-rather than a second-century date: even in the second century persecution was quite haphazard in its impact, and Christian writers could quite rationally discuss matters other than persecution.
Finally, To Demetrianus by Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, unlike Tertullian’s To Scapula, addresses a Gentile who was stirring up persecution against the Christians, though Demetrianus was a prominent local rather than a governor. The threat of persecution is slightly less imminent than in To Scapula, but Cyprian does claim that accusations were building up against the Christians. Demetrianus had in the past presented himself before Cyprian, in order to rail against him, but now people, perhaps partly stirred up by Demetrianus, were alleging that wars, plague, famine, and droughts were due to the Christians. The treatise was written in the aftermath of the general persecution of Decius (250 ce), and feelings against the Christians were still high. Six years later, in the persecution of Valerian of 258, Cyprian was indeed to be put to death by the Romans. Though Josephus may have been taking a line unpopular in Rome, he was writing as one in a privileged position. Cyprian, on the other hand, was, as he knew, in considerable personal danger.
Having now gone through some of the formal characteristics of these works, we should consider one of the questions of this book: was there a clear genre of apologetic? The implication of what I have been saying is that there was not. If all the works I have just been through are accepted as apologetic, it is very hard to see that there is sufficient formal similarity to establish generic similarity. Only some of the works address non-Christians: To the Gentiles, Apology, On the Philosopher’s Cloak, To Scapula, and To Demetrianus; On the Evidence of the Soul moves towards an explicit non-Christian readership only by the end. Octavius has no explicit readership at all. Of explicitly exoteric works, two (To the Gentiles and Apology) address general problems (including the possibility of Christian deaths), while two others (To Scapula and To Demetrianus) confront a more imminent threat of persecution. On the Evidence of the Soul does not seek to refute pagan attacks, while Octavius,though commenting on the injustice of persecutions and the nobility of Christian martyrs (28—31, 37), operates at a level of civilized, rational debate. I am inclined, therefore, to argue that there were generic similarities in the position of Christians during this period, though this varied significantly from time to time and place to place, and that these similarities led to a set of overlapping responses to the non-Christian world. Apologies were the product of a particular moment in the development of Christianity, when Christians were in an inferior position, but could see some hope and point in communicating with non-Christians. But the forms of communication were very varied, even on the part of one author, and did not constitute a formal genre of apologetic.