Page:Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature (1911).djvu/867

 proceeding to the last extremes. In one case his persuasion was successful. Quintus, Phrygian by nation, who had presented himself voluntarily for martyrdom, on sight of the wild beasts lost courage and yielded to the proconsul's entreaties. The Christians learned from his case to condemn wanton courting of danger as contrary to the gospel teaching. The proconsul lavished similar entreaties on a youth named Germanicus, but the lad was resolute, and instead of shewing fear, provoked the wild beasts in order to gain a speedier release from his persecutors. The act may have been suggested by the language of Ignatius (Rom. v. 2); and certainly this language seems to have been present to the mind of the narrator. At sight of the bravery of Germanicus, a conviction seems to have seized the multitude that they should have rather chosen as their victim the teacher who had inspired the sufferers with their obstinacy. A cry was raised, "Away with the atheists! Let Polycarp be sought for!" Polycarp wished to remain at his post, but yielded to the solicitations of his people and retired for concealment to a country house, where he spent his time, as was his wont, in continual prayer for himself and his own people and for all the churches throughout the world. Three days before his apprehension he saw in a vision his pillow on fire, and at once interpreted the omen to his friends: "I must be burnt alive." The search for him being hot, he retired to another farm barely escaping his pursuers, who seized and tortured two slave boys, one of whom betrayed the new place of retreat. Late on a Friday night the noise of horses and armed men announced the pursuers at hand. There seemed still the possibility of escape, and he was urged to make the attempt, but he refused, saying "God's will be done." Coming down from the upper room where he had been lying down, he ordered meat and drink to be set before his captors and only begged an hour for uninterrupted prayer. This was granted; and for more than two hours he prayed, mentioning by name every one whom he had known, small or great, and praying for the Catholic church throughout the world. At length he was set on an ass and conducted to the city. Soon they met the irenarch Herod, the police magistrate under whose directions the arrest had been made, in whose name the Christians afterwards found one of several coincidences which they delighted to trace between the arrest of Polycarp and that of his Master. Herod, accompanied by his father Nicetes, took Polycarp to sit in his carriage, and both earnestly urged him to save his life: "Why, what harm was it to say Lord Caesar, and to sacrifice, and so on, and escape all danger?" Polycarp, at first silent, at last bluntly answered, "I will not do as you would have me." Annoyed at the old man's obstinacy, they thrust him out of the carriage so rudely that he scraped his shin, the marks no doubt being visible to his friends when he afterwards stripped for the stake. But at the time he took no notice of the hurt and walked on as if nothing had happened. At the racecourse, where the multitude was assembled, there was a prodigious uproar; but the Christians could distinguish a voice which cried, "Be strong, Polycarp, and play the man! " Under the protection of the tumult the speaker remained undiscovered; and the Christians believed it a voice from heaven. The proconsul pressed Polycarp to have pity on his old age: "Swear by the fortune of Caesar, say 'Away with the atheists!'". The martyr, sternly looking round on the assembled heathen, groaned, and looking up to heaven said, "Away with the atheists!" "Swear then, now," said the proconsul, "and I will let you go; revile Christ." Then Polycarp made the memorable answer, "Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He has never done me wrong; how, then, can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour! " The 86 years must clearly count from Polycarp's baptism; so that if we are not to ascribe to him an improbable length of life, we must infer that he was the child of Christian parents and had been baptized, if not in infancy, in very early childhood. The magistrate continuing to urge him, Polycarp cut matters short by plainly declaring himself a Christian and offering, if a day were assigned, to explain what Christianity was. "Obtain the consent of the people," answered the proconsul. "Nay," replied Polycarp, "I count it your due that I should offer my defence to you, because we have been taught to give due honour to the powers ordained of God; but as for these people, I owe no vindication to them." The proconsul then had recourse to threats, but finding them unavailing, ordered his crier thrice to proclaim in the midst of the stadium, "Polycarp has confessed himself a Christian." Then arose a furious outcry from heathen and Jews against this "father of the Christians," this teacher of Asia, this destroyer of the worship of the gods. Philip the asiarch, or president of the games, was called on to loose a lion on Polycarp, but refused, saying the wild beast shows were now over. Then with one voice the multitude demanded that Polycarp should be burnt alive; for his vision must needs be fulfilled. Rushing to the workshops and baths they collected wood and faggots; the Jews, as usual, taking the most active part. We have evidence of the activity of the Jews at Smyrna at an earlier period, Rev. ii. 9, and at a later in the story of the martyrdom of Pionius. When the pile was ready Polycarp proceeded to undress himself; and here the story has an autoptic touch, telling how the Christians marked the old man's embarrassment as he tried to take off his shoes, it having been many years since the reverence of his disciples had permitted him to perform that office for himself. When he had been bound (at his own request, not nailed) to the stake, and had offered up a final prayer, the pile was lit, but the flame bellied out under the wind like the sail of a ship, behind which the body could be seen, scorched but not consumed. The fumes seemed fragrant to the Christians, whether as the effect of imagination or because sweet-scented woods had been seized for the hasty structure. Seeing that the flame was dying out, an executioner was sent in to use the sword, when so much blood gushed forth that the flame was nearly extinguished.