Ancient Examples in Asia and Africa
The Cobbler and the Artist Apelles
“Let the cobbler stick to his last.”
The reputation of the shoemaker class is not confined to our own country or to modern times. It is pretty much the same in all countries, and reaches back to very ancient times. The proverb, “Ne Sutor ultra crepidam“—”Let the cobbler stick to his last”—is one of the oldest in existence. Few proverbs are more universally and frequently quoted. It is based on a story which comes down to us from the times of Alexander the Great. Even if the story, as it is told in our Grecian histories, be not authentic, it serves to show that even in times preceding the Christian era cobblers were regarded as a shrewd and observant set of men. But there is no reason that we know of to doubt the story, which is well worth repeating. It is told of Apelles, one of the most celebrated of the old Greek painters, who flourished about 300 b.c. He was the friend of Alexander, and the only artist whom the great warrior would allow to paint his portrait. Apelles, we are told, was not ashamed to learn from the humblest critics. As Lord Bacon says, he did not object to “light his torch at any man’s candle.” For this reason, knowing that a good deal may sometimes be learned from the observations of passers-by, he was in the habit of placing his pictures before they were quite finished outside his house; and then, crouching down behind them, he listened to the remarks of spectators. On one occasion a cobbler noticed a fault in the painting of a shoe, and remarking upon it to a person standing by, passed on. As soon as the man was out of sight Apelles came from his hiding-place, examined the painting, found that the cobbler’s criticism was just, and at once corrected the error. Once more the picture was exposed, while the artist lay behind it to hear what further might be said. The cobbler came by again, and soon discovered that the fault he had pointed out had been remedied; and, emboldened by the success of his criticism, began to express his opinion pretty freely about the painting of the leg! This was too much for the patience of the artist, who rushed from his hiding-place, and told the cobbler to stick to his shoes. Hence the proverb, which for more than two thousand years73 has expressed the common feeling, that critics would do well not to venture beyond their legitimate province.
Two Shoemaker-Bishops — Annianus of Alexandria, and Alexander of Comana
If the shoemaker has found a place in classic history, it must not be forgotten that he has a place in ecclesiastical history also. In two instances a shoemaker is said to have been taken direct from the stall and elevated to the episcopal chair. No doubt many shoemakers have been endowed with sufficient piety and learning for this sacred and dignified office, and probably not a few have deemed themselves fit, whether they were so or not, to discharge its high functions; but the instances here given are, we believe, quite unique. The first is that of Anianus or Annianus (a.d. 62-86), who is said to have been appointed by St. Mark to assist him in the government of the Church at Alexandria. On the outbreak of persecution under Nero, Mark fled from the city; and, as Eusebius says, “Nero was now in his eighth year, when Annianus succeeded the Apostle and Evangelist Mark in the administration of the Church at Alexandria.“ The historian adds, ”He (Annianus) was a man distinguished for piety, and admirable in every respect.”74 He died in the fourth year of Domitian, 86 a.d. He was the first Bishop of Alexandria, and filled the office twenty-two years.75 To these simple statements of the historian are added the stories which found a ready acceptance in later times. To the fact that the worthy Alexandrian was a shoemaker tradition added the account of the miracle wrought upon him by St. Mark. One account tells us that the Evangelist, on passing along the street, burst his shoe and turned in to get it repaired, and so became acquainted with Annianus. Another version of the story declares that the cobbler, having hurt his hand with an awl, uttered a not very pious exclamation, which Mark overheard as he passed by, and going in to inquire the cause, took the opportunity not only to heal the wound, but to speak to the impatient workman of the true and living God whose name he had taken in vain. Annianus is commemorated in the Roman Martyrology with St. Mark on the 25th April.76
The other appointment of a shoemaker to the episcopate was due to the piety and wisdom of Gregory Thaumaturgus, the pupil and friend of Origen (220-270 a.d.). Gregory was then Bishop of Neo-Cæsarea in Asia Minor, and when a vacancy occurred in the bishopric of Comana in Cappadocia, he defied all conventionalism and prejudice, and appointed “a poor shoemaker named Alexander, despised by the world, but great in the sight of God, who did honor to so exalted a station in the Church.”77 He was chosen in preference to scholars and men of good social status on account of his extraordinary piety. This Alexander justified the choice thus made by reason of his excellent discourse, his holy living, and a martyr’s death. He is honored in the Roman Calendar on August 11th.78
The Pious Cobbler of Alexandria
Quite as good a man, no doubt, if not as fit to fill the episcopal chair, was the pious cobbler of Alexandria, of whom we read that St. Anthony paid him a visit in consequence of a voice from Heaven which said to him, “Antony, thou art not so perfect as a cobbler that dwelleth at Alexandria.” The pious anchorite was in the habit of hearing such voices and obeying them. All the leading events of his life were accompanied by a similar message from heaven, as he deemed it. Accordingly he took his staff, and leaving his secluded retreat in the desert, came down to the great city in search of the pious cobbler. Arriving before his door, where the good man sat at work, Antony asked him for an account of himself and his mode of living. “Sir,” answered the cobbler, “as for me, good works I have none. My life is but simple, seeing I am but a poor cobbler. In the morning when I rise, I pray for the whole city wherein I dwell, especially for all such neighbors and poor friends as I have; after that I sit me down to my labor, where I spend the whole day in getting my living; and I keep me from all falsehood, for I hate nothing so much as I do deceitfulness; wherefore when I make any man a promise, I keep it and perform it truly; and thus I spend my time poorly with my wife and children, whom I teach and instruct, so far as my wit will serve me, to fear and dread God; and this is the sum of my simple life.”
Rabbi Jochanan the Shoemaker
Speaking of Alexandria reminds us of another worthy of that city, the famous Jewish Rabbi Jochanan Sandalarius, or the shoemaker. Learned Rabbins were common enough in Alexandria from the time of its foundation by Alexander the Great, 332 b.c., down to its capture by the Arabs in the seventh century a.d. And as it was the custom with even the most learned Rabbins to learn a trade, it can be no matter of surprise that many of the most eminent leaders of thought among the Jews were employed in what are now regarded as very humble occupations. The Delegate Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, in an interesting article in the Nineteenth Century,79 tells us that “in the grand basilica synagogue of Alexandria, separate portions of the building were assigned to the silversmiths, weavers, and other trades.... The Rabbins, the authorized expounders of the law, deemed it derogatory to receive any reward for the exercise of their spiritual, doctrinal, or judicial functions, and maintained themselves by the labor of their hands. And thus in the Talmud we meet, in curious juxtaposition, the Rabbi and his trade in such phrases as these: “It was taught by Rabbi Jochanan the shoemaker.” This illustrious Rabbi came from Alexandria to Palestine, attracted by the great name of Akiba Ben Joseph, the famous Rabbi, who was the chief teacher of the rabbinical school at Jaffa at the close of the first century and the beginning of the second. In this school there were said to be no less than 24,000 pupils. Akiba sided with Bar Cocheba in his revolt against Rome, 132 a.d., acknowledged him as the Messiah, and became his armor-bearer. On the death of Bar Cocheba and the destruction of his army, Akiba was taken prisoner, and remained in the hands of the Romans for a long time, until his cruel death under Severus. During his imprisonment Jochanan managed to get access to his cell, and receive instructions from him on questions which had not been settled. Through Jochanan and Meir, Akiba greatly influenced the teachers of the next generation. Jochanan was certainly one of his most illustrious pupils, taking a leading part in the theological discussions of the Tanaim, the authors of the Mishna and Gamara, where his opinions are frequently quoted. In the Mishna Aboth80 “Rabbi Jochanan the shoemaker” is reported to have made the following sensible remark, which reminds one of the counsel of Gamaliel to the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem:81 “An association established for a praiseworthy object must ultimately succeed; but an association established without such an object cannot succeed.”