SECTION A view of the reign of Constantine, and the establishment of Christianity as the religion of the Roman empire.

A.D. 306 TO AT the commencement of the fourth century of the Christian tara, the Roman empire was under the dominion of four monarchs; of whom two, viz. Dioclesian and Maximin Herculeus were of superior rank, and each distinguished by the title ofAUGUSTUS; while the other two, Constantius Chlorus and Maximinus Galerius, sustained a subordinate dignity, and were honored with the humbler appellation ofCAESARS.

Dioclesian was raised to the throne in the year 284, consequently had swayed the imperial scepter sixteen years; but, though much addicted to superstition, he entertained no aversion to the Christians; and during this period they had enjoyed a large portion of outward peace. Constantius Chlorus, to whose lot it fell to exercise the sovereign power in Gaul and the western provinces, was a mild and amiable prince, under whose government we find no traces of persecution. He had himself abandoned the absurdities of Polytheism, and treated the Christians with benevolence and respect. The principal offices of his palace were executed by Christians. He loved their persons, esteemed their fidelity, and entertained no dislike to their religious principles. This alarmed the Pagan priests, whose interests were so intimately connected with the continuance of the ancient superstition, and who, apprehending, not without reason, that, to their great detriment, the Christiall religion was becoming daily more universal and triumphant throughout the empire, addressed themselves to Dioclesian, whom they knew to be of a timorous and credulous disposition, and by fictitious oracles and other perfidious stratagems, endeavored to engage him to persecute the Christians. The treacherous arts of a selfish and superstitious priesthood failed, however, fbr some time, to move Dioclesian. Their recourse was next had to Maximinus Galerius, one of the Caesars, who had married the daughter of Dioclesian; a prince, whose gross ignorance of every thing but military affairs, was accompanied with a fierce and savage temper, which rendered him a proper instrument for executing their designs. Stimulated by the malicious insinuations of the heathen priests, the suggestions of a superstitious mother, and the ferocity of his own natural temper, he importuned Dioclesian in so urgent a manner, for an edict against the Christians, that he, at length, obtained his horrid purpose. It seems to have been the practice of the Roman emperors about this time, to take up their residence occasionally at Nicomedia, the capital of the province of Bythinia—the place from whence Pliny addressed his celebrated letter to Trajan. This city, for its beauty and greatness, has been compared to Rome, Antioch, and Alexandria; but, what is more to our purpose, it abounded with Christians, even from the days of the apostles (1 Peter 1:1). Dioclesian having taken up his abode at Nicomedia, Galerius, his son-in-law, had come to spend the winter with him. In the year 302, the latter prevailed upon his colleague to grant an edict for pulling down all the places of worship belonging to the Christians, to burn all their books and writings, to deprive them of all their civil rights and privileges, and render them incapable of any honors or civil promotion. This first edict, though rigorous and severe, did not extend to the lives of the Christians, for Dioclesian was much averse to slaughter and bloodshed. It was, however, merely a prelude to what was to follow; for, not long after the publication of this first edict, a fire broke out at two different times in the palace of Nicomedia, where Galerius lodged with Dioclesian. The former, though in all probability the real incendiary, threw all the odium of this upon the Christians, as an act of revenge; and the credulous Dioclesian, too easily persuaded of the truth of this charge, caused the most inhuman torments to be inflicted upon multitudes of them at Nicomedia.

Soon after this, a new edict was issued, ordering all the bishops, pastors, and public teachers, throughout the empire, to be apprehended and imprisoned; hoping, probably, that if the leaders could be once effectually silenced, their respective flocks might be easily dispersed. Nor did his inhuman policy stop there; for, a third edict was presently issued, by which it was ordered, that all sorts of torments should be employed, and the most intolerable punishments resorted to, in order to force the disciples of Jesus to renounce their profession, and sacrifice to the heathen gods. The consequence was, that an immense number of persons became the victims of this cruel stratagem throughout every part of the Roman empire, except those who had the felicity to be placed under the mild and equitable government of Constantius Chlorus. The shameful manner in which multitudes of them were punished, it would be difficult to relate without violating the rules of decency; and, in the present day, would scarcely obtain credit; while others were put to death, after having their constancy tried by tedious and inexpressible torments; and not a few sent to the mines, where they were doomed to linger out the remains of a miserable life in poverty and bondage.

In the third year of this horrible persecution (A.D. 304,) a fourth edict was published by Dioclesian, at the instigation of Galerius, commissioning the magistrates to force all Christians, without distinction of rank or sex, to sacrifice to the gods, and authorizing them to employ all sorts of torments, with the view of driving them to this act of apostasy. The diligence and zeal of the Roman magistrates in the execution of this inhuman edict, ultimately reduced the Christian profession to a very low ebb; for this horrid persecution lasted ten years.

The rigorous edicts of Dioclesian were strictly and cheerfully executed by his associate Maximian, who had long hated the Christians, and who delighted in acts of blood and violence. It is the remark of Gibbon, when speaking of Maximian and Galerius, that the minds of those princes had never been enlightened by science. Education had never softened their temper. They owed their greatness to their swords; and in their most elevated fortune they still retained their superstitious prejudices of soldiers and peasants. Maximian swayed the scepter over the provinces of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, where he gratified his own inclination by yielding a rigorous obedience to the stern demands of Dioclesian.

A learned French writer, Monsieur Godeau, computes that in this tenth persecution , as it is commonly termed, there were not less than seventeen thousand Christians put to death in the space of one month. And that “during the continuance of it, in the province of Egypt alone, no less than one hundred and fifty thousand persons died by the violence of their persecutors; and five times that number through the fatigues of banishment, or in the public mines to which they were condemned. Galerius now no longer made a secret of his ambitious designs. He obliged Dioclesian and Maximian to resign the imperial dignity, and got himself declared emperor of the east, resigning the west, for the present, to Constantius Chlorus, at that time in Britain, with the ill state of whose health he was well acquainted.

But Divine Providence was now preparing more tranquil times for the church; and, in order to this, it confounded the schemes of Galerius, and brought his counsels to nothing. In the year 306, Constantius Chlorus, finding his end approaching, wrote to Galerius to send him his son Constantine, who had been kept as all hostage at court. The request was refused; but, coming to the ears of young Constantine, and aware of the danger of his situation, he resolved to attempt his escape, and seizing a favorable moment, he made the best of his way for Britain, and, to prevent pursuit, is said to have killed all the post horses on his route. He arrived at York just in time to witness the death of his father Constantius, who had in the meantime nominated his son as his successor; and the army, without waiting to consult Galerius, immediately pronounced Constantine emperor of the west, in the room of his father — a proceeding which must have stung the tyrant to the heart, who was nevertheless obliged to submit, and even to confirm the appointment with the outward marks of his approbation.

Not long after this (A.D. 311,) Galerius himself, the author of all this series of complicated suffering to the Christians, was reduced to the brink of the grave by a dreadful and lingering disease, in which he suffered horrors that no language can express. “The frequent disappointments of his ambitious views,” says Gibbon, “the experience of six years of persecution, and the salutary reflections which a lingering and painful distemper suggested to the mind of Galerius, at length convinced him that the most violent efforts of despotism are insufficient to extirpate a whole people, or to subdue their religious prejudices.” Desirous of repairing the mischief that he had occasioned, he published in his own name, and in those of Licinius and Constantine, a general edict, which after a pompous recital of the imperial titles, proceeded in the following manner: “Among the important cares which have occupied our minds, for the utility and preservation of the empire, it was our intention to correct and re-establish all things according to the ancient laws and public discipline of the Romans. We were particularly desirous of reclaiming, into the way of reason and nature, the deluded Christians who had renounced the religion and ceremonies instituted by their fathers, and presumptuously despising the practice of antiquity, had invented extravagant laws and opinions according to the dictates of their fancy, and had collected a various society from the different provinces of our empire. The edicts which we have published, to enforce the worship of the gods, having exposed many of the Christians to danger and distress, many having suffered death, and many more, who still persist in their impious folly, being left destitute of any public exercise of religion, we are disposed to extend to those unhappy men the effects of our wonted clemency. We permit them, therefore, freely to profess their private opinions, and to assemble in their conventicles without fear of molestation, provided always that they preserve a due respect to the established laws and government. By another rescript, we shall signify our intentions to the judges and magistrates; and we hope that our indulgence will engage the Christians to offer up their prayers to the Deity whom they adore , for our safety and prosperity , for their own, and for that of the republic.” This important edict was issued and set up at Nicomedia, on the 13th April, 311; but the wretched Galerius did not long survive its publication; for he died about the beginning of May, under torments the most excruciating, and in the nature of his complaint and manner of his death, very much resembling the case of Herod. After his death, Maximin succeeded him in the government of the provinces of Asia. In the first six months of his new reign he affected to adopt the prudent counsels of his predecessor; and, though he never condescended to secure the tranquillity of the church by a public edict, he caused a circular letter to be addressed to all the governors and magistrates of the provinces, expatiating on the imperial clemency, acknowledging the invincible obstinacy of the Christians, and directing the officers of justice to cease their ineffectual prosecutions, and to connive at the secret assemblies of those enthusiasts .

In consequence of these orders, says Gibbon, great numbers of Christians were released from prison, or delivered from the mines. “The confessors, singing hymns of triumph, returned into their own countries; and those who had yielded to the violence of the tempest, solicited with tears of repentance, their re-admission into the bosom of the Church.” This treacherous calm, however, was of short duration. Cruelty and superstition were the ruling passions of the soul of Maximin — the former suggested the means, the latter pointed out the objects of persecution. He was devoted to the worship of the Pagan deities, to the study of magic, and to the belief of oracles. Happily, while this bigoted monarch was preparing fresh measures of violence against the Christians with deliberate policy, a civil war broke out between himself and his colleague Licinius, which occupied his whole attention; and his defeat and death taking place soon after, delivered the Christians from this last and most implacable of their enemies.

The government of the Roman world, which, a few years before, had been administered by no less than six emperors at one time, now became divided between Constantine and Licinius, who immediately granted to the Christians permission to live according to their own laws and institutions, a privilege which was still more clearly ascertained by an edict drawn up at Milan, in the year 313. By this edict, every subject of the empire was allowed to profess either Christianity or Paganism unmolested. It also secured the places of Christian worship, and even directed the restoration of whatever property they had been dispossessed by the late persecution.

The rival princes, however, were not long in seeking or finding occasion to turn their arms against each other, in the issue of which Licinius fell, and left his competitor in the undisturbed possession of the empire.

No character has been exhibited to posterity in lights more contradictory and irreconcilable than that of Constantine. Christian writers, transported with his profession of their faith, have magnified his abilities and virtues to excess, and thrown an almost celestial splendor over every part of the portrait; while the Pagan historians have spread their gloomy shades upon the canvas, and obscured every trait that was great and amiable.

The circumstances attending his conversion to Christianity, are too familiar to most readers, to render any thing like a minute detail of them proper in this place. His father Constantius had shown himself very favorably disposed towards the Christians, and Constantine gave early indications of a desire to protect and favor its professors. If we may credit his own assertion, he had been an indignant spectator of the savage cruelties which had been inflicted by the hands of the Roman soldiers, on those citizens whose religion was their only crime. In the east and in the west he had seen the different effects of severity and indulgence; and as the former was rendered still more odious by the example of Galerius, his implacable enemy, the latter was recommended to his imitation by the authority and advice of a dying father. These tolerant principles were displayed alike both towards Pagans and Christians, before the emperor had avowed any peculiar attachment towards the latter. It is true, nevertheless, that he did not always maintain this state of indifference; he appears evidently to have been convinced of the folly and impiety of the Pagan superstition, which induced him to exhort all his subjects earnestly to embrace the gospel, and at length to employ all the force of his authority to abolish the ancient heathen worship.

According to his own account, he was marching at the head of his army, from France into Italy, against Maxentius, on an expedition, which he was fully aware, involved in it his future destiny. Oppressed with extreme anxiety, and reflecting that he needed a force superior to arms, for subduing the sorceries and magic of his adversary, he anxiously looked out for the aid of some deity, as that which alone could secure him success.

About noon, when the sun began to decline, whilst praying for supernatural aid, a luminous cross was seen by the emperor and his army, in the air, above the sun, inscribed with the words, “BY THIS CONQUER,” at the sight of which, amazement overpowered both himself and the soldiery on the expedition with him. He continued to ponder on the event till night, when, in a dream, the author of Christianity appeared to him, to confirm the vision, directing him, at the same time, to make the symbol of the cross his military ensign. Constantine vanquished his adversary; and no sooner was he made master of Rome, by the destruction of Maxentius than he honored the cross by putting a spear of that form into the hand of the statue erected for him at Rome. He now built places for Christian worship, and showed great beneficence to the poor. He encouraged the meeting of bishops in synods — honored them with his presence, and employed himself continually in aggrandizing the church. He removed the seat of empire to Byzantium, which he embellished, enlarged, and honored with the name of Constantinople; and prohibited, by a severe edict, the performance of any Pagan rites and ceremonies throughout the city. His religious zeal augmented with his years; and towards the close of his life, several imperial edicts were issued for the demolition of the heathen temples, and the prevention of any sacrifices upon their altars. He was on the other hand, scrupulously attentive to the religious rites and ceremonies which were prescribed by the Christian clergy. He fasted; observed the feasts in commemoration of the martyrs, and devoutly watched the whole night on the vigils of the saints. And in his last illness, he summoned to the imperial palace at Nicomedia, several Christian bishops, fervently requesting to receive from them the ordinance of baptism, and solemnly protesting his intention of spending the remainder of his life as the disciple of Christ. He was accordingly baptized by Eusebius, bishop of that city: after which he entirely laid aside his purple and regal robes, and continued to wear a white garment till the day of his death, which, after a short illness, took place on the 22d of May, in the year 337, at the age of sixty-four, having reigned thirty-three years. The extraordinary occurrences of the life of Constantine produced an entire change in the whole of the Christian profession. Its friends were now no longer called to endure patiently the hatred of the world — to take up their cross, and press after a conformity to Christ in his sufferings, and through much tribulation, to enter his kingdom; but they were to bask in the sunshine of worldly prosperity, enjoying the smiles of the great, and connecting with their profession the riches and honors of this present world — the baneful effects of which began speedily to develop themselves. So long as the Christians were persecuted by the heathen on account of their faith and practices, they were driven to the gospel as their only source of consolation and support; and they found it every way sufficient for their utmost need. The animating principles which it imparted, raised their minds superior to the enjoyments of this world, and in the hope of life and immortality, they were happy, even if called to lay down their lives for the sake of their profession. And, herein, the power of their religion was conspicuous. It was not with them an empty speculation, floating in the mind, destitute of any influence upon the will and the affections. While it induced them to count no sacrifice too costly which they were called to make for the gospel’s sake, they were led by it to exercise the most fervent Christian affection one towards another — to sympathize tenderly with each other in all their sorrows and distresses — and by bearing one another’s burdens, they fulfilled their Lord’s new command of brotherly love. This was the prominent feature in Christianity during the first three centuries. The writings of the apostles and evangelists all breathe this amiable spirit, and abound with exhortations to cultivate this God-like disposition; and so conspicuous was the exercise of it among the primitive Christians that it was commonly remarked by their enemies, and recommended by them as worthy of imitation.

Such, however, is the depravity of human nature, that, as they enjoyed any intervals from persecution, they became more profligate in their morals and more litigious in their tempers. But now that the restraint was wholly taken off by Constantine, the churches endowed, and riches and honors liberally conferred on the clergy; when he authorized them to sit as judges upon the consciences and faith of others, he confirmed them in the spirit of this world — the spirit of pride, avarice, domination, and ambition — the indulgence of which, has, in all ages, proved fatal to the purity, peace and happiness of the kingdom of Christ. This inconsistent conduct of the leading men among them, in professing a religion, the prominent characteristics of which are humility and self-denial, and at the same time aspiring after the pleasures and the honors of this world, seems to have forcibly struck the very heathens themselves. Hence, an historian of the latter class, who lived shortly after the time of Constantine, remarks concerning the bishops of Rome, “It would be well if, despising the magnificence of the city, they would imitate some of the bishops of provincial towns, whose temperance in eating and drinking, plainness of apparel, and looking above the world, recommended them to the deity as his true worshippers.” Now they began to new-model the Christian church, the government of which was, as far as possible, arranged conformably to the government of the state. The emperor himself assumed the title of bishop — and claimed the power of regulating its external affairs; and he and his successors convened councils, in which they presided, and determined all matters of discipline. The bishops corresponded to those magistrates whose jurisdiction was confined to single cities; the metropolitans to the proconsuls or presidents of provinces; the primates to the emperor’s vicars, each of whom governed one of the imperial provinces. Canons and prebendaries of cathedral churches took their rise from the societies of ecclesiastics, which Eusebius, bishop of Verceil, and after him Augustine, formed in their houses, and in which these prelates were styled their fathers and masters. This constitution of things was an entire departure from the order of worship, established under Divine direction by the apostles of Christ in the primitive churches. In fact, scarcely any two things could be more dissimilar than was the simplicity of the gospel dispensation from the hierarchy established under Constantine the Great. “Let none,” says Dr.

Mosheim, alluding to the first and second centuries, “confound the bishops of this primitive and golden period of the church, with those of whom we read in the following ages. For though they were both designated by the same name, yet they differed extremely, in many respects. A bishop, during the first and second centuries, was a person who had the care of one Christian assembly, which, at that time, was, generally speaking, small enough to be contained in a private house. In this assembly, he acted not so much with the authority of a master, as with the zeal and diligence of a faithful servant. The churches also, in those early times, were entirely independent; none of them subject to any foreign jurisdiction, but each one governed by its own rulers and its own laws.

Nothing is more evident than the perfect equality that reigned among the primitive churches; nor does there ever appear, in the first century, the smallest trace of that association of provincial churches, from which councils and metropolitans derive their origin.” 10 To which we may add, that the first churches acknowledged no earthly potentate as their head.

This had been expressly prohibited by their Divine Master. “The kings of the Gentiles,” said he, “exercise lordship over them; and they that exercise an authority upon them are termed benefactors. But with you it shall not be so; — let him that is greatest among you be as the younger, and he that is chief, as he that doth serve.” (Luke 22:25,26) Again, “Be not ye called Rabbi; for one is your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren. And call no man your father upon the earth; for one is your father who is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters; for one is your Master, even Christ. But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant; and, whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased, while he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” (Matthew 23:3-12) These divine maxims, which are in perfect unison with the whole tenor of the New Testament, were entirely disregarded by the ecclesiastics who undertook to new-model the constitution of the Christian church, under the auspices of Constantine, and whom, as a matter of courtesy, they condescended to make its earthly head. But to proceed.

Thus restored to the full exercise of their liberty, their churches rebuilt, and the imperial edicts every where published in their favor, these new bishops immediately began to discover what spirit they were of. As their several revenues increased, they grew more ambitious, less capable of contradiction, more haughty and arrogant in their behavior, more quarrelsome in their tempers, and more regardless of the simplicity and gravity of their profession and character. Constantine’s letters afford abundant proof of the jealousies and animosities that reigned among them.

Adverting to a violent quarrel which had taken place between Miltiades, bishop of Rome, and Coecilianus, bishop of Carthage, in which the principals had enlisted a host of their colleagues as their respective auxiliaries, he states to them, that it was a very grievous thing to him to see so great a number of persons divided into parties, and the bishops disagreeing among themselves. He earnestly wishes to compose their differences; but in spite of all his efforts, they persisted in their quarrels — which drew from him a pathetic complaint, that those who ought to have been the foremost in maintaining a brotherly affection and peaceable disposition towards each other, were the first to separate from one another in a scandalous and detestable manner, giving occasion to the common enemies of Christianity to scoff and deride them.

To put an end to such factious and disgraceful proceedings, he summoned a council to meet at Arles in France, in order, if it were possible, to bring to a friendly and Christian compromise this long pending altercation. He himself condescended to be present on the occasion, and exerted all his influence to restore peace and harmony among them, but with little effect.

He had unfortunately sown the seeds of strife and contention, by his liberal endowment of churches, and by the riches and honors that he had conferred upon the bishops, and he was now reaping the fruit of his folly.

Had this first of the Christian emperors, rested satisfied with the primary edict which he published in favor of the Christians, he had acted the part of a wise, good, and impartial governor. That decree, without particularizing any sects or parties, gave full liberty to all of them, both Christians and Pagans, to follow whatever religious profession seemed to them most eligible. But that liberty was of no long duration, and was soon abridged in reference to both Christians and Heathens. For, although in that edict he had commanded that the places of worship and other effects should be restored to Christians in general, it was soon followed by another, which restricts this grant to “ THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.” After this, in a letter to Miltiades, bishop of Rome, complaining of the differences fomented by the African bishops, he tells him, that he had so great a reverence for “the catholic church,” that he would not have him suffer, in any place, any schism or difference whatsoever to exist. There are in his letters many things which savor of the same spirit, and which can leave us in no doubt, that, by “the catholic faith and church” we are to understand that which was approved by those bishops who had the greatest interest in his favor.

And with regard to his treatment of the Pagans, it was in flagrant violation of the first principle of Christianity, as well as of the excellent edict which he had formerly issued. He prohibited by law 11 the worship of idols in cities and country — commanded that no statues of the gods should be erected, nor any sacrifices offered upon their altars, and sent into all the provinces Christian presidents, forbidding the Pagan priests to offer sacrifice, and confirming to the former the honors due to their characters and stations; thus endeavoring to support the kingdom of Christ, which is not of this world, by means altogether worldly, viz. the prospects and rewards of worldly honor and preferment.

It can excite no surprise, that those persons who could advise the issuing of these edicts, to suppress the ancient religion of the empire, should be against tolerating any sects among themselves that should presume to differ from them on any articles of the Christian faith or discipline. For nothing can be more evident than that, if the civil magistrate is vested with authority to prohibit religious opinions, or punish the abettors of them, merely because in his view they are erroneous, it must necessarily follow, that he has an equal right to punish a professing Christian whose sentiments or practices differ from his own, as he would have to punish those of a Pagan or Mahommedan. If the magistrate’s jurisdiction extend to his exercising a control over the human mind in one instance, it will be impossible consistently to deny it to him in any other; and as his own judgment is, in all cases, the authorized standard of what is truth and error, in religion, he bears the sword, on this principle to punish every deviation from that standard which he has erected, whether found in Christian, Jew, or Pagan. Thus, if Constantine and his bishops were justified in abolishing heathenism by the civil power, because they believed it erroneous, Dioclesian and Gallienus with their priests, were equally right in prohibiting Christianity by civil laws, because they believed it to be not only false and impious, but blasphemy against their gods, and even as bordering upon atheism itself.

It has been well remarked by a sensible writer, that “men have been very long in discovering, and even yet seem scarcely to have discovered, that true religion is of too delicate a nature to be compelled, by the coarse implements of human authority and worldly sanctions. Let the law of the land restrain vice and injustice of every kind, as ruinous to the peace and order of society; for this is its proper province: but let it not tamper with religion, by attempting to enforce its exercises and duties. These, unless they be free-will offerings, are nothing; they are worse [than nothing.] By such an unnatural alliance, and ill-judged aid, hypocrisy and superstition may, indeed, be greatly promoted; but genuine piety never fails to suffer.” The sentiments of primitive Christians for the first three centuries, in reference to the divinity of the Savior, were generally speaking, pretty uniform; nor do there appear to have been any public controversies regarding this leading article of the Christian faith. But a dispute now arose which may be said to have involved all Christendom in a flame. It originated in the church of Alexandria, in Egypt, between Alexander and Arius, two of the pastors of that church, and soon spread itself into other churches, inflaming bishops against bishops, who, under the pretext of supporting divine truth, excited tumults, and fomented the most deadly strifes and hatreds towards each other. These divisions of the prelates set the people together by the ears, and the dispute was managed with such violence, that it involved the whole Christian world, and gave occasion to the heathens to ridicule the Christian religion upon their public theatres. The occasion of this dispute, which is well known by the name of “THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY,” seems to have been simply this. Alexander, one of the prelates of that church, speaking upon the subject of the Trinity, had affirmed that there was “an unity in the Trinity, and particularly that the Son was co-eternal, and consubstantial, and of the same dignity with the Father.” Arius objected to this language, and argued that “If the Father begat the Son, he who was begotten must have a beginning of his existence; and from hence, says he, ‘tis manifest that there was a time when he (the Son) was not,” etc.

It is wholly incompatible with the object of this history to discuss points of Christian doctrine; but the reader will, probably, excuse a few remarks on this extraordinary controversy. It is scarcely possible for any one who entertains a reverential regard for the great God, not to be struck with the presumption of poor, finite, erring mortals, daring to investigate, in the rash and inconsiderate manner that was now done, a subject of such awful import as the modus of the divine existence. We no sooner turn our thoughts to this question than our feeble capacities are overwhelmed with the immensity of the subject. Reason, in its most improved state, can carry us but a little way in our discoveries of God; and, if we are wise, we shall receive in simplicity of mind, every information which the great First Cause hath been pleased to afford us concerning himself in his holy word.

There, indeed, we learn with certainty, what may be also inferred from the works of creation and providence, that there is a God, who at first called the universe into being, and who still upholds and governs all things. But the works of creation and providence could never teach us, what the Scriptures make abundantly plain, — that there is in this one immense being, a distinction of Father, Word, and Spirit — a distinction which lies at the foundation of the whole economy of our redemption. Men in the pride of their hearts, may ask, how can these things be? But we are under no obligation to explain that point to them. And, indeed, it will be early enough for them to put the question, when they shall have explained how body , soul , and spirit constitute one individual human person. Every child may see that this distinction pervades the whole of divine revelation, and especially the New Testament. TheFATHER is always represented as sustaining the majesty of the Godhead; as the great moral Governor of the world, giving laws to his creatures, enforced by the sanctions of the rewards and punishments of a future state. TheWORD is described as becoming incarnate to accomplish the purposes of the Father’s love in the redemption of the guilty. And theHOLY SPIRIT as the efficient agent, carrying into effect the purpose of the Father and the grace of the Son, on the hearts of the elect. But then it never leads us to conceive of theSON OF GOD, abstractedly from his incarnation.THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH, or assumed a human body, and thus “that holy thing which was born of the Virgin, was theSON OF GOD.” (Luke 1:31-35; John 1:14) The doctrine of “eternal generation” was unknown to the inspired writers, and, unquestionably, hatched in the school of Alexandria. Happy had it been for the Christian world, could they have rested satisfied with the simple doctrine of divine revelation on this sublime subject; not seeking to be wise beyond what is written. Much as I dislike the character of Athanasius, it is only due to him to say, that he has in a few words said all that can with propriety be said on this subject. “The Father,” says he, “cannot be the Son, nor the Son the Father; and the Holy Ghost is never called by the name of the Son, but is called the Spirit of the Father and of the Son. The Holy Trinity is but one divine nature and one God. This is sufficient for the faithful; human knowledge goes no further. The Cherubims vail the rest with their wings.”

But let the reader mark how these ecclesiastical combatants represent each other’s opinions. Arius in a letter to Eusebius of Nicomedia, thus states the sentiments of Alexander. “God is always and the Son always — the same time the Father, the same time the Son — the Son co-exists with God unbegottenly, being ever begotten, being unbegottenly begotten — God was not before the Son, no not in conception, or the least point of time, he being ever God, ever a Son — For the Son is out of God himself.”

Alexander, on the contrary, in a letter to the bishop of Constantinople, gives us the doctrine of Arius in the following words. “There was a time when there was no Son of God, and that he who before was not, afterwards existed, being made, whensoever he was made, just as any man whatsoever; and that therefore he was of a mutable nature, and equally receptive of vice and virtue,” etc.

If these things were publicly taught and avowed, by these men, as each represents the other’s sentiments, every sober man will surely think that they both merited severe reprehension, for leaving the plain language of scripture, and introducing terms of their own invention into a doctrine of pure revelation, and at last dividing the whole of Christendom on account of it.

Numerous expedients were tried to bring Alexander and Arius to one mind, the emperor himself condescending to become a mediator between them; but all attempts proved fruitless. He wrote letters to them at Alexandria, exhorting them to lay aside their differences and become reconciled to each other. He informs them that he had diligently examined the rise and progress of this dispute, and that he found the occasion of the difference to be very trifling and not worthy such furious contentions; and that therefore he promised himself, his mediation for peace would have its desired effect. He reminds Alexander that “He required from his presbyters a declaration of their sentiments concerning a silly, empty question — and Arius, that he had imprudently uttered what he should not even have thought of, or what at least he should have kept secret in his own bosom; that questions about such things ought not to have been asked; if asked, should not have been answered; that they proceeded from an idle itch of disputation, and were in themselves of so high and difficult a nature, as that they could not be exactly comprehended or suitably explained. And that to insist on such points before the people could produce no other effect than to make some of them talk blasphemy, and others turn schismatics.” This, unquestionably, was excellent advice, but religious animosities are not so easily removed; and the ecclesiastical combatants were too warmly engaged to listen to such salutary counsel. Finding all other resources ineffectual, the emperor was at length under the necessity of issuing letters to the bishops of the several provinces of the empire, enjoining them to assemble together at Nice, in Bythinia, which was accordingly done, A.D. 325. This is what goes by the name of “The First General Council.” The number of bishops was three hundred and eighteen, besides a multitude of presbyters, deacons, acolythists, and others, amounting in the whole to two thousand and forty-eight persons. The ecclesiastical historians inform us, that in this vast collection of the bishops, some were remarkable for their gravity, patience under sufferings, modesty, integrity, and eloquence, yet they all agree that there were others of very opposite characters. On the day appointed for holding the council, the bishops and inferior clergy were assembled in the largest room in the palace, rows of seats being placed on each side of it; and all having taken their places, they waited, standing in respectful silence for the emperor, who, being preceded by several of his friends, at length made his appearance, as Eusebius says, like an angel of God, exceeding all his attendants, in size, gracefulness, and strength; and dazzling all eyes with the splendor of his dress; but showing the greatest humility and modesty in his manner of walking, gesture, and behavior. Having taken his station in the middle of the upper part of the room, near a low chair that was covered with gold, he did not sit down, till the fathers desired it.

All being now seated, says Eusebius, the bishop whose place was the first on his right hand (Maimbourg informs us it was Eustathius, patriarch of Antioch,) rose, and addressing the emperor, gave thanks to God on his account, congratulating the church on its prosperous condition, brought about by his means, and particularly in the destruction of the idolatrous worship of Paganism. Then sitting down, the emperor himself addressed the company in Latin, expressing his happiness at seeing them all met on so glorious an occasion as the amicable settlement of all their differences, which, he said, had given him more concern than all his wars; but that these being at an end, he had nothing more at heart than to be the means of settling the peace of the church; and he concluded with expressing his earnest wish that they would, as speedily as possible, remove every cause of dissension, and lay the foundation of a lasting peace. What he said in Latin was interpreted to the fathers in Greek.

Immediately after this speech, this excellent emperor was witness to a scene which must have afforded him a very unpromising prospect as to the success of his project for peace. For before they entered upon the discussion of any thing that related to the great object of their meeting, the bishops began with complaining to the emperor of each other, and vindicating themselves. To every thing that was said, he gave a patient hearing, and by his mildness and great address, speaking to them in Greek (which he was in some measure able to do) he at length prevailed upon them to come to an agreement, says Eusebius, not only with respect to their private differences, but also with regard to the two great objects of their assembling — the rule of faith as it respected the Arian controversy, and the time of celebrating Easter.

Socrates says, that the bishops having put into the emperor’s hands written libels, containing their complaints against each other, he threw them all together into the fire, advising them, according to the doctrine of Christ, to forgive one another as they themselves hoped to be forgiven.

Sozomen says, that the bishops having made their complaints in person, the emperor bade them reduce them all into writing, and that on the day which he had appointed to consider them, he said, as he threw all the billets unopened into the fire, that it did not belong to him to decide the differences of Christian bishops, and that the hearing of them must be deferred till the day of judgment. However, the emperor ultimately succeeded in restoring them to some degree of temper; and they consequently proceeded in good earnest to draw up a creed, which they were all required to subscribe, as the only true and orthodox faith, and which, from the place where they were assembled, bears the title of theNICENE. 17 The principal persons who appeared on the side of Arius, and assisted him in the public disputation, were Eusebius of Nicomedia, Theognis of Nice, and Maris of Calcedon; and the person who chiefly opposed them and took the part of Alexander, was Athanasius, then only a deacon in the church of Alexandria, but much confided in by the bishop, and of whom more will be said hereafter.

No sooner were the decrees and canons of the council drawn up, than they were sent to Sylvester, then bishop of Rome, who, in the thirteenth council of Rome, at which were present two hundred and seventy-five bishops, confirmed them in these words: “We confirm with our mouth, that which has been decreed at Nice, a city of Bythinia, by the three hundred and eighteen holy bishops, for the good of the catholic and apostolic church, mother of the faithful. We anathematize all those who shall dare to contradict the decrees of the great and holy council, which was assembled at Nice, in the presence of that most pious and venerable prince, the emperor Constantine.” And to this all the bishops answered, “We consent to it.” The council began their discussions on the 19th of June, and ended them on the 25th of August, of the same year (325) to the joy of Constantine, the defeat of Arius, and the triumph of the Athanasian party. Eusebius of Nicomedia, and sixteen other bishops, opposed the general sense of the council, and rejected the word consubstantial . But finding themselves in so small a minority, and that the emperor was determined to enforce respect to the decisions of the council, they all, except four, ultimately subscribed the confession of faith. The prevailing party then proceeded to excommunicate Arius and his followers, banishing the former from Alexandria. Letters were also written to all the churches in Egypt, Lybia, and Pentapolis, announcing their decrees, and informing them that the holy synod had condemned the opinions of Arius, and had fully determined the time for the celebration of Easter; exhorting them to rejoice for the good deed they had done, for that they had cut off all manner of heresy. When these things were ended, Constantine splendidly treated the bishops, filled their pockets, and sent them honorably home, exhorting them at parting to maintain peace among themselves, and that none of them should envy another who might excel the rest in wisdom or eloquence — that they should not carry themselves haughtily towards their inferiors, but condescend to, and bear with, their weakness; — a convincing proof that he saw into their tempers, and was no stranger to the haughtiness and pride that influenced some, and the envy and hatred that prevailed in others. 19 It requires not the spirit of prophecy to anticipate the effects which must flow from the disgraceful proceedings of this general council, though Constantine himself wrote letters, enjoining universal conformity to its decrees, and urges as a reason for it, that “what they had decreed was the will of God, and that the agreement of so great a number of such bishops was by inspiration of the Holy Ghost.” It laid the foundation for a system of persecution of a complexion altogether new — professed Christians tyrannizing over the consciences of each other, and, as will be seen in the sequel, inflicting torture and cruelties upon each other far greater than they had ever sustained from their heathen persecutors. The emperor’s first letters were mild and gentle, but he was soon persuaded into more violent measures; for out of his great zeal to extinguish heresy, he issued edicts against all such as his favorite bishops persuaded him were the authors or abettors of it, and particularly against the Novatians, Valentinians, Marcionists, and others, whom, after reproaching with being “enemies of truth, destructive counselors,” etc. he deprives of the liberty of meeting for worship, either in public or private places; and gives all their oratories to the orthodox church. And with respect to the discomfited party, he banished Arius himself, commanded that all his followers should be called Porphyrians (from Porphyrius, a heathen, who wrote against Christianity) 20 — ordained that the books written by them should be burnt, that there might remain to posterity no vestiges of their doctrine; and, to complete the climax, enacted that if any should dare to keep in his possession any book written by Arius, and should not immediately burn it, he should no sooner be convicted of the crime, than he should suffer death 21 Such were the acts of the last days ofCONSTANTINE THE GREAT.

SECTION THE SUBJECT CONTINUED From the death of Constantine the Great , to the close of the fourth century . A.D. 337 — 400. ON the decease of Constantine, the government of the Roman empire was distributed between his three sons. To Constantine the II. were assigned the provinces of Britain, Spain, and Gaul, now called France. To his brother Constans, Illyricum, Italy, and Africa; whilst Constantius inherited the east, comprehending Asia, Syria, and Egypt, with the city of Constantinople, to which his father had transferred the imperial residence, and consequently made it the seat of government.

In the year 340, a quarrel arose between the two first mentioned brothers, which ended in a war, and that war in the death of Constantine. Constans now added the dominions of the deceased prince to his own, and thereby became sole master of all the western provinces. He retained possession of this immense territory until the year 350, when Magnentius, one of his own officers, with the view of getting himself declared emperor, contrived to procure the assassination of Constans. The usurper, however, did not long enjoy the fruits of his perfidy; for Constantius, justly incensed by his rebellious conduct, marched an army against him, and repulsing him at the outset, Magnentius, transported with rage and despair at his ill success, and apprehending the most terrible and ignominious death from the resentment of the conqueror, put a termination to his own life. Thus, Constantius, in the year 353, became sole monarch of the Roman empire, which he governed until the year 361. Marching at the head of his army, in that year, to chastise the presumption of his own kinsman, Julian, whom the forces entrusted to his command in Gaul, had, in an hour of victory saluted with the title of Augustus, he was arrested by the hand of death, and expired at Mopsucrene in Cilicia, leaving the vacant throne to Julian.

None of the sons of Constantine the Great, inherited the spirit and genius of their father. They, nevertheless, so far trod in his steps, as to extend their fostering care to the Catholic religion, to accelerate its progress through the empire, and to continue to undermine and abolish the system of Paganism.

But the controversy which had arisen between Arius and Alexander, relative to the sonship of Christ, was far from being put to rest by the decision of the council of Nice. The doctrine of Arius, indeed, had been condemned by a very large majority — he himself was banished to Illyricum, and his followers compelled to assent to the confession of faith composed by the synod — his writings also had been proscribed as heretical, and the punishment of death decreed against all who were convicted of the crime of harboring them in their houses. But persecuting edicts cannot extend their dominion over the thoughts, and it is scarcely less difficult to impose an effectual restraint upon the tongue. Persecution has generally been found favorable to whatever cause it has been directed against; it somehow enlists the sensibilities of our nature on the side of the persecuted party; and disposes the mind to a more candid and impartial examination of the question in dispute, than we should otherwise possess.

It is perhaps too much to affirm with Dr. Middleton, that “truth was never known to be on the persecuting side;” 1 an impartial examination, however, of the opinions and proceedings of both Arians and Athanasians on this occasion, serves in some degree to justify the maxim, and convinces us that they were equally remote from the truth, even as they were alike well disposed to persecute each other in proportion as either party obtained the means of doing it. Only it is due to the orthodox party to say, that they took the lead in punishing heretics with death, and persuaded the emperor to destroy those whom they could not convert.

When the undivided government of the empire centered in the hands of Constantius, he evinced a strong predilection for the Arian side of the controversy, and Arianism became fashionable at court. The emperor favored only the bishops of that party. Paul, the orthodox prelate of the see of Constantinople, was ejected from his office by the emperor’s order, and Macedonius substituted in his room. This man adopted a scheme different from either party, and contended that the Son was not consubstantial , but of a like substance with the Father, openly propagating this new theory, after thrusting himself into the bishoprick of Paul; and thus, by the addition of a single letter, affecting to settle the whole dispute. Frivolous as was this distinction, it enraged the orthodox party, who, filled with rage and resentment, rose in a body to oppose Hermogenes, the officer whom Constantius had sent to introduce him unto his episcopal throne, burnt down his house, and drew him round the streets by his heels until they had murdered him.

Athanasius , who had rendered such essential service to Alexander, his bishop, in managing the dispute with Arius at the council of Nice, had, by this time, risen to great popularity, and in reality was become the oracle of the orthodox party. We are supposed to be indebted to him for the creed which bears his name, and which fills so eminent a place in the liturgy of our national church. Even to this day he is extolled by such respectable writers as Milner and Haweis, as a prodigy of evangelical light. But whatever may be said of the soundness of his speculative creed, he was evidently a man of aspiring views and of persecuting principles. In a letter to Epictetus, bishop of Corinth, alluding to some heretical opinions then prevalent, he says, “I wonder that your piety hath borne these things, and that you did not immediately put those heretics under restraint, and propose the true faith to them, that if they would not forbear to contradict they might be declared heretics, for it is not to be endured that these things should be either said or heard amongst Christians.” And upon another occasion, “they ought to be held in universal hatred ,” says he, “for opposing the truth,” — comforting himself that the emperor, when duly informed, would put a stop to their wickedness, and that they would not be long-lived. In one of his letters he exhorts those to whom he wrote, to “hold fast the confession of the fathers, and to reject all who should speak more or less than was contained in it. And, in his first oration against the Arians, he declares in plain terms, “that the expressing a person’s sentiments in the words of scripture, was no sufficient proof of orthodoxy, because the devil himself, used scripture words to cover his wicked designs upon our Savior, and that heretics were not to be received though they made use of the very expressions of orthodoxy itself.”

The Scriptures were now no longer the standard of the Christian faith.

What was orthodox, and what heterodox, was, from henceforward, to be determined by the decisions of fathers and councils; and religion propagated not by the apostolic methods of persuasion, accompanied with the meekness and gentleness of Christ, but by imperial edicts and decrees; nor were gainsayers to be brought to conviction by the simple weapons of reason and scripture, but persecuted and destroyed. It cannot surprise us, if after this we find a continual fluctuation of the public faith, just as the prevailing party obtained the imperial authority to support them; or that we should meet with little else in ecclesiastical history than violence and cruelties, committed by men who had wholly departed from the simplicity of the Christian doctrine and profession; men enslaved to avarice and ambition; and carried away with views of temporal grandeur, high preferments, and large revenues.

To dwell upon the disgraceful cabals, the violent invectives, and slanderous recriminations of those ruling factions, would afford little edification to the reader, and certainly no pleasure to the writer. Were we disposed to give credit to the complaints of the orthodox against the Arians, we must certainly regard them as the most execrable set of men that ever lived. They are loaded with all the crimes that can possibly be committed, and represented as bad, if not worse, than infernal spirits. And had the writings of the Arians not been destroyed, we should, no doubt, have found as many and grievous charges laid by them, perhaps with equal justice, against the Athanasians. Constantius banished Athanasius from his bishoprick at Alexandria, and wrote a letter to the citizens, in which he terms him “an impostor, a corrupter of men’s souls, a disturber of the city, a pernicious fellow, one convicted of the worst crimes, not to be expiated by his suffering death ten times ;” and a bishop, named George, was put into his see, whom this eloquent emperor is pleased to style “a most venerable person, and the most capable of all men to instruct them in heavenly things.” Athanasius, however, in his usual style, calls him “an idolater and hangman; and one capable of all kinds of violence, rapine, and murders;” and whom he actually charges with committing the most impious actions and outrageous cruelties.

The truth is, that the clergy of the Catholic church were now become the principal disturbers of the empire; and the pride of the bishops, and the fury of the people on each side had grown to such a height, that the election or restoration of a bishop seldom took place in the larger cities, without being attended with scenes of slaughter. Athanasius was several times banished and restored at the expense of blood. What shall we make of the Christianity of the man who could act thus, or countenance such proceedings? Had Athanasius been influenced by the benign and peaceable spirit of the gospel, he would at once have withdrawn himself from such disgraceful scenes, and preferred to worship God in the society of only a dozen day-laborers in a cellar or a garret, to all the honor and all the emolument which he could derive from being exalted to the dignity of archbishop of Alexandria, on such degrading conditions. One can scarcely forbear contrasting his conduct with the behavior of Him, whose servant he professed to be. “When Jesus perceived that they would come and take him by force, and make him a King , he departed again into a mountain alone.” John 6:15.

The fruits of the Spirit are not turbulence and strife; “but love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, fidelity, meekness and temperance; and they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its affections and lusts.” Galatians 5:22.

The orthodox were deposed, and the Arians substituted in their places, with the murder of thousands; and as the controversy was now no longer about the plain doctrines of uncorrupted Christianity, but about secular honors and dignified preferments, so the bishops were introduced into their churches and placed upon their thrones by armed soldiers. And when once in actual possession, they treated those who differed from them without moderation or mercy, turning them out of their churches, denying them the liberty of worship, fulminating anathemas against them, and persecuting them by every species of cruelty, as is evident from the accounts given by the ecclesiastical historians of Athanasius, Macedonius, George, and others. In short, they seem to have treated one another with the same implacable bitterness and severity, as their common enemies, the heathen, had ever exercised towards them, or as though they thought persecution for conscience-sake had been the distinguishing characteristic of the Christian religion, and that they could not more effectually recommend themselves as the disciples of Christ, than by devouring each other. This made Julian, the emperor, say of them, that he found by experience, that even the beasts of the forest are not so cruel as the generality of Christians then were to one another. Such was the wretched state of things in the reign of Constantius, which affords us little more than the history of councils and creeds differing from, and clashing with each other — bishops deposing, censuring, and anathematizing their adversaries, and the people divided into factions under their respective leaders, for the sake of words, of the meaning of which they understood nothing, and contending for victory even to bloodshed and death. Thus, as Socrates observes, “was the church torn in pieces for the sake of Athanasius and the word consubstantial !”

It probably would not be easy to sketch in few words a more striking picture of these times than that which is given us by Ammianus Marcellinus, who, having served in the armies, had the best opportunities of studying the character of Constantius. “The Christian religion, which in itself,” says he, “is plain and simple, he confounded by the dotage of superstition. Instead of reconciling the parties by the weight of his authority, he cherished and propagated by verbal disputes, the differences which his vain curiosity had excited. The highways were covered with troops of bishops, galloping from every side to the assemblies, which they called synods; and while they labored to reduce the whole sect to their own particular opinions, the public establishment of the posts was almost ruined by their hasty and repeated journies.” 2 It was certainly a very just, though severe censure, which Gregory Nazianzen passed upon the councils that were held about this time. “If I must speak the truth,” says he, “this is my resolution, to avoid all councils of the bishops, for I have not seen any good end answered by any synod whatsoever; for their love of contention, and their lust of power, are too great