Egypt like unforgiving rivals, as if to revenge upon each other the schism of their founders. And the congregations defiantly boasted that their fathers, even though held fast by the same chain, had been wont so to kneel at prayer that the Catholic and the Meletian might worship God with averted faces, in hope that their petitions might seem to rise toward heaven apart, and mount up to the mercy-seat without mingling on the way!

After a short time, Meletius was released, and came to Alexandria, where he met Alexander, second successor of Peter in that see; and, while their followers continued as hostile as ever, they strove to set some example of mutual charity. But the example was very faint. They never met at the Lord's table, and therefore held no true communion, while the alienated congregations of Egypt became hotbeds of heresy. Right faith could not survive when charity had perished.

Alexander was, unquestionably, a sincere and earnest man; but he went beyond the simplicity of Scripture, endeavouring to exhibit the mystery of the Incarnation with a precision of language which might be attained if a man could fathom the depth of that mystery himself, and then communicate an equal power of apprehension to the mind of another. Such faculties no mortal can possess. His zeal betrayed him into expressions which provoked debate, and awakened doubts which he had no power to dispel. With the purest intention, as we must believe, he delivered harsh and repulsive statements of the truth to his audience, whom he bewildered with paradoxes, while endeavouring to instruct them in the truth. For example, he is reported to have set forth the Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ in such terms as these:-"Ever God, ever Son; at the same time Father, at the same time Son. The Son, without being begotten, exists together with God. Ever begotten; begotten of the Unbegotten. Neither in thought, nor ever for a moment, does God precede the Son; ever God, ever Son; the Son proceeding from God Himself." *

Perhaps Alexander would not have descanted thus coldly on the ineffable mystery of our Lord's Divinity, if he had more profoundly felt its majesty, and experienced a more lively enjoyment of its blessedness. Among his hearers was one Arius, or 'Apeios, a presbyter of one of the churches of Alexandria. This presbyter was restless but clever, and one of the first to attach himself to the Meletian schism, provoked by the momentary indiscretion of Peter. But, on reflection, he renewed his allegiance to that good Bishop. Achillas, the immediate successor of Peter, ordained him presbyter, but soon died, leaving him to the care of Alexander. By this time he was of mature age, dignified and reverend in his bearing, and of prepossessing manners. Not

* Αεὶ Θεὸς, ἀεὶ Υἱός· ἅμα Πατὴρ, ἅμα Υἱός. Συνυπάρχει ὁ Υἱὸς ἀγεννήτως τῷ Θεῷ. Αειγεννής· ἀγεννητογεννής. Οὔτ ̓ ἐπινοίᾳ, οὔτ ̓ ἀτόμῳ τινὶ, προάγει ὁ Θεὸς τοῦ Υἱοῦ, del Oeds, del Tids, é§ AvToû Toû Đeoû ¿ Tiós.—Epiphan. Adv. Hæres., lib. ii., Contra Arciomanitas.

deeply learned in Christian doctrine, he was more fatally shocked by the officious dogmatism of Alexander than by the zealous impetuosity of Peter, and did not suspect himself of any unsoundness in the faith which was now so travestied in his view. Yet on this point his views could not have been intelligently sound, any more than the views of Justin Martyr, Lactantius, and Arnobius. No doctor of those times had taught with devout affection, and with adequate fulness, that Christ is truly God; for no heresiarch had as yet ventured openly to assail this truth of truths. But, about the year 320, Arius, revolting from the shapeless disguise under which it came before him, proclaimed his doubts, and published abroad the utter unbelief which those doubts engendered, so that the heresy flew abroad as on wings of tempest. Before this sudden outburst, and during a period of stealthy preparation, it spread from place to place, privately,-not yet a dogma received and sanctioned, but an opinion so congenial with the "evil heart of unbelief" as to find entertainment all over Christendom. That the weaker minds yielded soonest to the thought, may be inferred from the statement of Epiphanius, that seven hundred consecrated virgins -persons whose enthusiasm must have been stronger than their intel lect, or they would not have slighted the counsel of the Apostle, and spurned the restraint of domestic duties-deserted the church; and, perhaps as much attracted by the venerable appearance of the aged presbyter as infected by his heresy, declared themselves his followers. At the same time seven presbyters and twelve deacons fell into the snare, and so did one bishop. Of course, a great crowd of the laity quickly followed.

We have taken note of the Meletian schism before describing the rise of Arianism,—not that there was any doctrinal similarity between the two sects, but for the sake of directing attention to a very significant coincidence. Schism preceded heresy. The Egyptian church, first rent by schism, then became the seat of heresy. The same spiritual pride which possessed Meletius, and spoiled the meekness of Peter, puffed up Arius, and inflated the seven hundred consecrated girls with the notion that they were competent to obtrude their disapproval of a leading truth of Christianity upon the attention of the world. The fanaticism of the neighbouring Donatists, whose savage proceedings along the coasts of Northern Africa were at this time a disgrace to Christianity, was an outbreak of the same spirit. Alike in Carthage and in Alexandria, and, spreading from those centres, over almost all Christendom, there arose a calamitous exemplification of the power of strife to destroy religion. Christian captives had become proud of their sufferings; Christian ministers, austere and boastful in the exercise of their sacred functions. Crowds of Christian men and women, furious in their defence of zealot-leaders, outdid in folly the Corinthian partisans who professed, "I am of Paul, and I of Apollos, and I of Cephas, and I of Christ." The heart being hardened in

deceitfulness, the church openly departed from the living God. Selfishness, hate, and arrogance took possession of that sacred shrine, and east out every lovely virtue. The heart which ceased to rejoice in the love of Christ became unconscious of His majesty. Charity having waxed cold, reverence toward God decayed. The names of Divine persons, and of heavenly truths, remained; but the soul of the fallen Christian was darkened, so that he saw nothing but the name. The Alexandrian sophist, unfortunately become a Christian teacher, taught Christianity without Christ; while a people who listened with pagan curiosity to the debates of sophists, wearing the garb of Christian presbyters, gave to the most worldly of them their most cordial adherLike with like most easily consorted. Even so, down to this day, have party-spirit and mere intellectual theologizing driven away truth; or, the forms and sounds having been too carefully guarded to be thrown aside, have displaced piety. Analogous with the sequence of heresy after schism, fifteen centuries ago, is the present swarming of heresies in our own country close after recent ecclesiastical disputes; and the general indifference of which all our churches were the other day complaining ripens into open infidelity.

ence.

Meletius was not an Arian, only a schismatic; and, perhaps, he repented of his schism. Made Bishop of Thebais, and presiding over a diocese incurably infected with intolerance, he cherished the truth which Arius denied; and, hearing of the rapid spread of Arianism in Egypt, he nobly forgot the schism, and hastened down to Alexandria, to confer with Alexander, head of the other party. The aged Bishop brought with him a list of unfaithful clergy, over which they mourned together. Alexander then convened a synod of the clergy of his diocese, and summoned Arius to appear before it. Often had he remonstrated with Arius; but the man was too haughty to bend, and, probably, too blind to perceive his error. He acknowledged the heresy without reserve; thirty-three presbyters and twentyfour deacons appended their signatures to a sentence of condemnation; and their leader was commanded to quit the city.

Athanasius, then a young man, deacon of one of the churches in Alexandria, was a member of that synod, witnessed the solemn deliberations, heard from the lips of the arch-heretic himself an undisguised denial of the Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and set his hand to the sentence of condemnation. Here, we may suppose, began that course of study which will be accounted, until the end of time, one of the greatest benefits ever conferred on Christendom by means of an uninspired man.

But, as the charity of the prelates could not heal the schism of their followers, neither could the united influence of the sounder clergy dispel the heresy of the multitude. As when a spark, fallen among stubble, sets the forest in a blaze; so did Arianism lay hold upon Egypt and the East, and there was no power to stay the conflagration.

"Arius the Persecuted," as he begins to call himself, shall tell us his own doctrine for we transcribe his very words from a letter which he addressed to Eusebius, of Nicomedia, complaining bitterly of Alexander. "But what is it," he asks, "that we say, and think, and have taught, and still teach? That the Son is not unbegotten, nor part of a Being unbegotten, in any sense whatever; but neither is He made of anything material, but has subsisted by the will and counsel of God before time and ages; fully a God, only-begotten, unchangeable; but who, before He was begotten, or created, or set apart, or established, did not exist for He was not unbegotten. Therefore we are persecuted, because we say that the Son has a beginning, but that God is without beginning. For this we are persecuted, because we say He comes from nothing. But so we say, that neither is He part of God, nor of any intermediate substance. It is for this that we are persecuted. The rest thou knowest."* Thus did Arius deny the truth which Alexander had obscured by his officious labour to define it. To the Egyptians the furious contention of Christians concerning a fundamental article of Christian faith seemed ridiculous; the contending parties were mimicked in the theatres, and the sacred Name of the Redeemer of mankind was repeated amidst derisive blasphemies. The heathens laughed, and sincere Christians wept for shame.

Arius did not leave immediately on receiving the command, which the synod had no power to enforce; but soon afterwards he went to Nicomedia in Palestine, where his friend Eusebius was bishop, and where, at that time, Constantine the Great held his court.

Constantine, a proselyte to Christianity rather than a convert, and not even baptized, was ignorant of the principles of the religion he had adopted, and presumed to patronize. He had heard from Eusebius of the new controversy, and volunteered his imperial influence to reconcile the contending parties. Already the Bishop and the Arch-heretic had received a letter addressed by "the victorious Constantine to Alexander and Arius," exhorting them to cease their strife, and proposing measures for bringing about a reconciliation. Encouraged by the honour, and presuming on the indifference or impartiality of his judge, Arius hastened to Palestine, obtained an audience of the Emperor, used his utmost art to avoid controversy, and even to disguise the opposition of his doctrine to that which was still held as the belief of Christians in general. More than half persuaded that the great question, whether our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ was God or man, was

* Ἡμεῖς δὲ τί λέγομεν, καὶ φρονοῦμεν, καὶ ἐδιδάξαμεν, καὶ διδάσκομεν ; Ὅτι ὁ Υἱὸς οὐκ ἔστιν ἀγέννητος, οὐδὲ μέρος ἀγεννήτου, κατ ̓ οὐδένα τρόπον. Ἀλλ ̓ οὔτε ἐξ ὑποκειμένου τινὸς, ἀλλ ̓ ὅτι θελήματι καὶ βουλῇ ὑπέστη πρὸ χρόνων, καὶ πρὸ αἰώνων, πλήρης Θεός, μονογενὴς, ἀναλλοίωτος· καὶ πρὶν γεννηθῇ, ἤτοι κτισθῇ, ἤτοι ὁρισθῇ, ἢ θεμελειωθῇ. οὐκ ἦν. ̓Αγέννητος γὰρ οὐκ ἦν. Διωκόμεθα δὲ ὅτι εἴπομεν, ἀρχὴν ἔχει ὁ Υἱὸς, ὁ δὲ Θεὸς ἄναρχός ἐστι. Διὰ τοῦτο διωκόμεθα, καὶ ὅτι εἴπομεν ἐξ οὐκ ὄντων ἐστίν. Οὕτως δὲ εἴπομεν, καθότι οὐδὲ μέρος Θεοῦ ἐστιν, οὐδὲ ἐξ ὑποκειμένου τινός. Διὰ τοῦτο διωκόμεθα, Xoindy σù oldas.—Epiphanii Opera, tom. i., p. 731. Colonia, 1682.

a mere debate on words, Constantine sent the celebrated Hosius, of Cordova, to Egypt, with orders to convene a synod, and there endeavour to reconcile the two parties; also to put an end to the Meletian schism; also to see to the case of one Colluthus, a minor heretic who sympathized with Arius, but had his own followers. Hosius, a good and wise man, did his best to make peace, but utterly failed; and then Constantine bethought himself, that, as patron of the universal church, he would summon a general assembly of bishops from all parts of the empire, place himself at their head, and, by dint of power, make an end of strife.

The Council was convened at Nicæa, and vastly exceeded, in wisdom, piety, and firmness, the anticipations of the Emperor; who beheld with reverence the most venerable confessors of Christ then surviving, and, no doubt, learned the faith of the martyrs as he could not have learned it before. Athanasius was among them, a young man, but one of the most distinguished pleaders for the truth. Arius was also there, himself reverend in person, sagacious, politic. His unbending determination to maintain his cause might be mistaken, by some, for conscientious firmness. Certainly, he was courageous and proud. "I have taught," he said," and I continue to teach." His dependence was not on the written word of God, nor yet on the light of Divine teaching by the Holy Ghost: he chose to rest on his own conviction; if it was not, rather, a stubborn and infidel opinion. He gloried in standing alone; and as he looked around, and saw among the hundreds of assembled bishops a few men of strong will and great influence whom he knew to be his friends, although they now professed to go over to the majority, sitting in silence, and ready to subscribe his condemnation, but as ready to aid him afterwards in the propagation of his error, he resolved to stand unmoved, come what might. His heresy was condemned; he was excommunicated, and banished from Egypt. The members of the Council, his own friends excepted, observed with sorrow the worldliness of spirit which betrayed itself in his defence before them, as in all his doings. History, indeed, has not preserved any lengthened record of his speech in the Council; but Athanasius and some others mention with disgust one very striking indication of his real character.

The songs of one Sotades, an old Egyptian poet, sung by the heathen in their banquets, were remarkable for immodesty; and the levity and peculiarity of the tunes were exactly suited to the taste of those who sang them. They were, indeed, drunkards' songs. Arius, in hope of spreading his opinions among the multitude, had written a collection of hymns, (as, perhaps, he would have called them,) composed in the same measure, and adapted to the same tunes, as the songs of Sotades, giving the title of Thalia to his book. The heathens were amused at hearing their own ballads so closely imitated by a people called Christians; but those who worthily bore that venerable