PREFACE

THE first edition of this "Short History" was published in January, 1892. This first edition has long been out of print. The fire of February 2, 1896, consumed all the stock of books on hand. The author then proposed that, instead of reprinting from the old plates, the Society thenceforth publish two editions of the work: one to be a small book that could be sold at a merely nominal price, the other a larger volume with illustrations. This proposal was favorably received, and the first part of the project was at once realized in the "Phoenix edition."  In the revision of the text for that edition a considerable amount of new matter was added.

The second part of the project was by no means so easy a matter, and a decade has been required for its accomplishment. It required a restudy of the whole field covered, step by step, with utmost care. It involved the careful rewriting of the entire work and the addition of much new matter. It included months of foreign travel, and the collection of an immense quantity of Illustrative material, only a small part of which has proved available for this edition. The book now in the reader's hand contains more than twice as much matter as the first edition, yet the volume is not too big nor the story too prolix, it is believed, to justify the retention of the original title of "A Short History of the Baptists."

The book has thus grown to what the author hopes will prove, so far as the text is concerned, its definitive form. But he still cherishes a hope that, at some future time, his ideas regarding its illustration may be more completely realized. No sane publishers would, however, incur the necessary expense of such illustration unless fully assured of support in so doing. Our Publication Society has gone to the present limit of prudence in this matter. If the Baptists of America would like an edition of this history, with all of the interesting and valuable portraits, ancient edifices, facsimiles of documents, and other curious and instructive illustrative matter in the author's possession or at his command, they have only to make that wish unmistakably known and they can have it. The unmistakable evidence of their desire (need it be added") will be a sale of this present edition commensurate with the favor that has been shown to its predecessors.

The author gladly takes this opportunity of expressing his obligations to the friends who have given assistance in his work, especially to those who, by pointing out its imperfections, have made possible its betterment. A host of good Christian people, by no means confined to our own denomination, have sent words of commendation, of counsel, of helpful suggestion. To such, one and all, thanks have been returned in the one convincing way: by leaving nothing undone to make the book worthy of their appreciation.

Special thanks are due to Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons for their supplying five duplicate plates from their "Heroes of the Reformation" series, and to the American Baptist Home Mission Society for the loan of the beautiful half-tone portrait of John M. Peck.

INTRODUCTION

THE word Baptists, as the descriptive name of a body of Christians, was first used in English literature, so far as is now known, in the year 1644. The name was not chosen by themselves, but was applied to them by their opponents. In the first Confession of Faith issued by the Particular Baptists in 1644, the churches that published the document described themselves "as commonly (but unjustly) called Anabaptists." While they repudiated the name Anabaptist, they did not for some time claim the new name of Baptists, seeming to prefer "Baptized believers," or, as in the Assembly's Confession of 1654, "Christians baptized upon profession of their faith." These names were, however, too cumbrous, and they finally fell in with the growing popular usage. The name Baptists seems to have been first publicly used by one of the body in 1654, when Mr. William Britten published "The Moderate Baptist." The first official use of the name is in "The Baptist Catechism" issued by the authority of the Assembly. The surviving copies of this document are undated, and we only know that it was prepared and printed  "some years" after the Assembly's Confession.

For the fact that the name Baptist comes into use at this time and in this way, but one satisfactory explanation has been proposed: it was at this time that English churches first held, practised, and avowed those principles ever since associated with that name. There had been no such churches before, and hence there was no need of the name. The name Anabaptist had been well known, and it described not unfairly from the point of I view of those who invented it, the principles and practices of a body that, under various names, had existed from the eleventh century. The Anabaptists denied the scripturalness of infant baptism, and insisted on a baptism upon profession of faith. But the Anabaptists, for the most part, were content to practise the rite of baptism as they saw it in vogue about them; that is to say, sprinkling or pouring. They gave little attention to the act of baptism, regarding the subjects of baptism as a matter of far greater importance, as indeed it is. The English Anabaptists seem, at the beginning of their history, to have differed not at all from the other branches of the party in this respect; but about the year 1640 the attention of some among them was called to the question of the fitting act of baptism according to the Scriptures, and the introduction of immersion soon after followed. The name Baptists came to be applied to them almost at once as descriptive of their new practice.

The history of Baptist churches cannot be carried, by the scientific method, farther back than the year 1611, when the first Anabaptist church consisting wholly of Englishmen was founded in Amsterdam by John Smyth, the Se-Baptist. This was not, strictly speaking, a Baptist church, but it was the direct progenitor of churches in England that a few years later became Baptist, and therefore the history begins there. There were before this time, it is true, here and there churches that might fairly be described as Baptist. Such was the church at Augsburg about 1525, commonly called Anabaptist, but practising the immersion of believers on profession of faith; such were some of the Swiss Anabaptist churches, apparently; such were some of the Anabaptist churches of Poland. But we find such churches only here and there, with no ascertainable connection existing between them. Further research may establish such connection. or may bring to light additional instances; but it must be confessed that there is no great probability of such result. At any rate, there are no materials for a history in such facts as are now known. A history of Baptist churches going farther back than the early years of the seventeenth century would, therefore, in the present state of knowledge, be in the highest degree unscientific. The very attempt to write such a history now would be a confession of crass ignorance, either of the facts as known, or of the methods of historical research and the principles of historical criticism, or of both.

"Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it." Such was the reply of our Lord when his ever-confident disciple answered the question, "Who say ye that I am?"  in the memorable words, then for the first time uttered, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." The Church of Rome points to this text as conclusive proof of her claims to be God's vicegerent on earth, the true church, against which the gates of hades shall not prevail. It further points to its unbroken succession, and a history which, if dim and uncertain at the first, since the fourth century at least has not a break, and not improbably extends back to the apostolic era, if not to Peter himself. It challenges any of the bodies that dispute its claim to show an equal antiquity and a succession from the days of the apostles as little open to serious question. Those that accept this test and fail to meet it must confess themselves schismatics and heretics, resisters of God, and doomed to overthrow here as well as condemnation hereafter.

Many Protestants make haste to accept Rome's challenge to battle on her chosen ground. Certain Anglican divines have great faith in a pleasing tradition that the Church of England was founded by the Apostle Paul during a third missionary tour hinted at in the New Testament but not described; and they flatter themselves that they thus establish an antiquity not second to that of Rome. Some Baptists have been betrayed into a similar search for proofs of antiquity, misled by the idea that such proof is necessitated by the promise that "the gates of hades shall not prevail" against the true church. If then, they reason, Baptist churches are true apostolic churches, they must have existed from the days of the apostles until now without break of historic continuity. This exaggerated notion of the worth of antiquity as a note of the true church is strengthened by the theory of baptism held by some; namely, that no one is baptized unless he is immersed by one who has himself been immersed. This is to substitute for the apostolic succession of "orders," which the Roman Church boasts, an apostolic succession of baptism. The theory compels its advocates to trace a visible succession of Baptist churches from the days of the apostles to our own, or to confess that proof is lacking of the valid baptism of any living man.

But it is plain that in thus accepting the challenge of Rome Protestants in general, the Baptists in particular, commit as great an error in tactics as in exegesis. To assume the necessity of an outward continuity in the life of the church is gratuitously to read into the words of our Lord what he carefully refrained from saying. Rome, for her own purposes, assumes the only possible import of the words to be that Christ's church will have a historic continuity that can be proved by documentary and other evidence. But this is by no means the necessary meaning of Christ's promise. The church that he said he would build on the rock, to which he guaranteed victory against the gates of hades itself, is not a visible body—that is the great falsehood of Rome—but the assembly of those in all the ages who truly love God and keep the commandments of Christ. Of these there has been an unbroken line, and here is the true apostolic succession—there is no other. Through the continuous presence of this church and not along any chain of visible churches, the truth has descended to our days. Christ's promise would not be broken though at some period of history we should find his visible churches apparently overcome by Satan, and suppressed; though no trace of them should be left in literature; though no organized bodies of Christians holding the faith in apostolic simplicity could be found anywhere in the world. The truth would still be, as he had promised, witnessed somewhere, somehow, by somebody. The church does not cease to be because it is driven into the wilderness.

To Baptists, indeed, of all people, the question of tracing their history to remote antiquity should appear nothing more than an interesting study. Our theory of the church as deduced from the Scriptures requires no outward and visible succession from the apostles. If every church of Christ were to-day to become apostate, it would be possible and right for any true believers to organize to-morrow another church on the apostolic model of faith and practice, and that church would have the only apostolic succession worth having—a succession of faith in the Lord Christ and obedience to him. Baptists have not the slightest interest therefore in wresting the facts of history from their true significance; our reliance is on the New Testament, and not on antiquity; on present conformance to Christ's teachings, not on an ecclesiastical pedigree, for the validity of our church organization, our ordinances, and our ministry.

By some who have failed to grasp this principle, there has been a distressful effort to show a succession of Baptist churches from the apostolic age until now. It is certain, as impartial historians and critics allow, that the early churches, including the first century after the New Testament period, were organized as Baptist churches are now organized and professed the faith that Baptist churches now profess. It is also beyond question that for fully four centuries before the Reformation there were bodies of Christians under various names, who professed nearly—sometimes identically—the faith and practice of modern Baptists. But a period of a thousand years intervenes, in which the only visible church of unbroken continuity was the Roman Church, which had far departed from the early faith.

The attempt has been made, at one time or another, to identify as Baptists nearly every sect that separated from the Roman Church. It will not suffice to prove that most of these sects held certain doctrines from which the great body of Christians had departed—doctrines that Baptists now hold, and that are believed by them to be clearly taught in the New Testament—or that the so-called heretics were often more pure in doctrine and practice than the body that assumed to be the only Orthodox and Catholic Church. This is quite different from proving the substantial identity of these sects with modern Baptists. Just as, for example, it is easily shown that Methodists and Presbyterians hold a more biblical theology and approach nearer to apostolic practice than the Roman or Greek churches; while yet all know that a considerable interval separates them from Baptists. It is one thing to prove that the various heretical sects bore testimony, now one, now another, to this or that truth held by a modern denomination; and quite another thing to identify all or any of these sects with any one modern body. This is equally true, whether the investigation be confined to polity or to the substance of doctrine.

In thus emphasizing the divergences of the early and medieval sects from the teaching of the Bible, as Baptists have always understood that teaching, no denial is implied of the excellent Christian character manifested by the adherents of these erroneous views. In many instances the purest life of an age is to be found, not in the bosom of the Catholic Church, but among these despised and persecuted sectaries. Not one of them failed to hold and emphasize some vital truth that was either rejected or practically passed by in the church that called itself orthodox. God did not leave his truth without witnesses at any time. Now a sect, now an individual believer, like Arnold of Brescia or Savonarola, boldly proclaimed some precious teaching, perhaps along with what we must regard as pernicious error. But it is impossible to show that any one person, or any one sect, for a period of more than a thousand years, consistently and continuously held the entire body of truth that Baptists believe the Scriptures to teach, or even all its vital parts. It is possible that with further research such proof may be brought to light: one cannot affirm that there was not a continuity in the outward and visible life of the churches founded by the apostles down to the time of the Reformation. To affirm such a negative would be foolish, and such an affirmation, from the nature of the case, could not be proved. What one may say, with some confidence, is that in the present state of knowledge no such continuity can be shown by evidence that will bear the usual historic tests. Indeed, the more carefully one examines such literature of the early and medieval church as relates to the various heretical sects, the stronger becomes his conviction that it is a hopeless task to trace the history of the apostolic churches by means of an unbroken outward succession. k succession of the true faith may indeed be traced, in faint lines at times, but never entirely disappearing; but a succession of churches, substantially like those of our own faith and order in doctrine and polity—that is a will-o'-the-wisp, likely to lead the student into a morass of errors, a quagmire of unscholarly perversions of fact.

The special feature of this history is that it attempts frankly to recognize facts, instead of trying to maintain a thesis or minister to denominational vanity. Beginning with a survey of the history and constitution of the New Testament churches, in which all Baptists profess to recognize the norm of doctrine and polity, the process by which these churches were perverted into the Holy Catholic Church of the succeeding centuries is quite fully traced. The story of the gradual suppression of evangelical Christianity having thus been told, the next step is to show the reverse process—the gradual renascence of evangelical Christianity. This is the sum of Part I., the history of Baptist principles. The second Part is devoted to the history of actual visible Baptist churches, and every statement of fact made is carefully based on documentary sources. For the important question is, not how much may be guessed or surmised or hoped about our history as Baptists, but how much may be known.

CHAPTER I

THE NEW TESTAMENT CHURCHES—HISTORY

"GO ye therefore, and make disciples of all the the nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded you; and lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." In this parting injunction of the risen Lord to his disciples, which the Duke of Wellington aptly called the marching orders of the ministry, we have the office of the Christian Church for the first time defined. In obedience to this command the early Christians preached the gospel, founded churches, and taught obedience to Christ as the fundamental principle of the Christian life. And though many of them could say with Paul that they spent their days "in labor and travail, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness," they found it a faithful saying that their Lord was with them alway. In so far as the church in all ages has been obedient to Christ's command it has experienced the truth of this promise.

It is significant that in his teaching Jesus mentioned the church but twice, and then only toward the close of his ministry. The distinctive feature of his teaching is the setting up among men of the kingdom of God—a kingdom not of this world, but spiritual, into which he only can enter who has been born from above, who is meek, childlike, spiritually minded. Being spiritual, this kingdom is invisible, but it has an outward, bodily manifestation, an institutional as well as an incorporeal existence. That manifestation is the church, the ecclesia, those "called out" from the world and gathered into a society whose aim is the extension of the kingdom. This church potentially existed from the day when two disciples of John the Baptist followed Jesus and believed on him as the Messiah (John I: 35-40) ; but of actual existence as an organized society of believers during the life of Jesus no trace appears in the four Gospels. The day of Pentecost marks the beginning of the definite, organic life of the followers of Christ. The descent of the Holy Spirit, according to the promise of the Lord, was the preparation for the great missionary advance, of which the conversion of three thousand on that one day was the first fruits. Not only did this multitude hear the word and believe, but on the same day they were "added to the church," which can only mean that they were baptized. It was once urged, as an objection to the teaching and practice of Baptists regarding baptism, that the immersion of so many people on a single day is physically impossible. The missionary history of our own time has silenced this objection forever, by giving us a nearly parallel case. In 1879, at Ongole, India, two thousand two hundred and twenty-two Telugu converts were baptized on a single day by six ministers, two administering the ordinance at a time; the services being conducted with all due solemnity, and occupying in all nine hours.

The baptism of this great multitude on the day of Pentecost was not only their public confession of faith in Jesus as the Messiah, and their formal induction into the company of believers, but the beginning of a new life of Christian fellowship. For a time at least, this fellowship took among the saints at Jerusalem the form of virtual community of goods, and this so-called "Christian communism" is often held up as a model for the I life of Christians in all ages. "And the multitude of them that believed," says the record, "were of one heart and soul; and not one of them said that aught of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things in common. . . For neither was there among them any that lacked, for as many as were possessed of lands or houses sold them, and brought the price of the things that were sold, and laid them at the apostles' feet; and distribution was made unto each according as any one had need." It is evident to one who reads the entire account that this was a purely voluntary act on the part of the richer believers, prompted by a desire to relieve those whom the peculiar emergency had made specially needy. The optional nature of the sales and gifts is evident from the words of Peter to Ananias, who with Sapphira conspired to lie to the Holy Spirit—"Whiles it [the property Ananias had sold remained, did it not remain thine own" And after it was sold, was it not in thy power?" To sell all one's goods and distribute unto the poor, though proposed by Jesus to the rich young ruler as a test of his desire for eternal life, was not a general condition of discipleship, even at this time and place. But there is no reason to suppose that after the temporary stress had been relieved, this community of goods continued among even the Jerusalem brethren, while there is every reason to believe that no other church in the apostolic age practised anything of the kind. There is entire silence on the subject in the Epistles and the remainder of the Acts—a thing inconceivable if Christian communism had been a fundamental principle of the apostolic churches. It is not wise or fair to draw a sweeping conclusion as to present duty from premises so narrow and uncertain.

The saints at Jerusalem had all been born and bred as Jews, and they had no idea that by becoming followers of Christ they had ceased to be Jews. They were daily in the temple, and scrupulously fulfilled all the duties prescribed by the law of Moses. Nor did the Jewish authorities regard them as adherents of a different religion; they were rather a sect or party among the Jews than a separate body. This is not to say that they were approved by the priests and the Sanhedrin; on the contrary, very soon persecution of them began. The Sadducees were the first to proceed against them, on the avowed ground that the apostles "proclaimed in Jesus the resurrection of the dead." The result of this persecution was a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit and a new advance; a multitude of believers were added, until the number of men alone became five thousand. The Sadducees had the experience of persecutors in all ages, that "heresy" is like a firebrand, and he who attempts to stamp out either by violence only scatters the sparks, until the little fire becomes a great conflagration.

About four years after Pentecost a fresh persecution was begun. The stoning of Stephen was its first act, and this was followed by a systematic and determined effort to extirpate this new heresy. This time it was the Pharisees who led the persecution, and prominent among them was Saul of Tarsus. The disciples at Jerusalem were dispersed, but they became preachers of the gospel wherever they went. They had come to Jerusalem from distant places, and had tarried there; now they would naturally return to their homes and carry with them their glad tidings of salvation through Jesus, the Christ. Thus a persecution that at first seemed likely to be fatal to the church at Jerusalem really ensured the perpetuity of Christ's religion by scattering its adherents throughout Asia Minor.

Shortly after this occurred an event, improbable, incredible even, if it were not certain, fraught with consequences most profound and far-reaching to Christianity, nothing less than the sudden conversion of its bitterest opponent. Saul, brought up at the feet of Gamaliel and learned in the law, renowned for his zeal in persecuting the church of God—in which, like so many other persecutors since, he verily believed he was doing God a service—was stricken down and blinded on his way to harry the saints at Damascus, by the appearance in the heavens at midday of the Christ whom he persecuted. Three days later, with sight miraculously restored, he was baptized into the fellowship of Christ's followers, and soon was as zealous in preaching the truth about the Messiah to the Jews as he had formerly been in opposing those who held it. Persecuted by the Jews, distrusted by the Christians, he had to pass through a long and painful ordeal before he became fitted for the work to which God had separated him from birth. Three years were spent in seclusion in Arabia, and several other years in obscure labors, before his fitness for a larger service was recognized by his brethren.

In the meantime, Philip, one of the deacons of the church at Jerusalem, seems for a time to have stepped into the place made vacant by the death of Stephen. He preached the gospel in Samaria, and wrought miracles; many believed and were baptized, both men and women. None of these converts, so far as appears, was a Gentile; and the eunuch shortly afterward baptized by Philip was doubtless a Jewish proselyte. Slow of heart, indeed, were the followers of Christ to admit that any but a Jew could be saved through Christ. They still regarded themselves as Jews; the gospel was a gospel for Jews; salvation was for Jews.

The first recorded case of preaching the gospel to a Gentile is that of the centurion, Cornelius, of Cesarea, When Peter had gone to him in obedience to a vision; when he had preached Christ to him and his friends and they all believed; when the Holy Spirit fell upon them, so that they spoke with tongues and glorified God; the apostle felt that he had but one course, and he unhesitatingly baptized them. "Who was I that I could hinder God," he said, in recounting the affair to the church at Jerusalem on his return; and they, though they had at first doubted and criticised, were in turn convinced that this was the work of God, and glorified him, saying: "So then, to the Gentiles also God has given repentance unto life." The conversion of Cornelius therefore marks an era in the history of Christianity, since it was never after questioned that the gospel was to be preached to Gentile as well as to Jew; the religion of Christ was not to be a mere Jewish cult, but one of the great missionary religions of the world?the greatest of them all.

This characteristic alone discriminates Christianity from the Judaism whence it sprung. Judaism was essentially narrow, exclusive, non-missionary; not in the purpose of God, but as the religion was actually held and practised. It was God?s plan, indeed, that in Abraham and his seed all the nations of the earth should be blessed, but the Jews never took kindly to that idea. The fundamental notion in their minds was separation from the nations; God had chosen them from all others and made them his peculiar people. Power and dominion were to be given them, according to the promises of prophets, a kingdom more glorious than Solomon's; and that others should share in these privileges was a thought as bitter as wormwood to a Jew. Though the Jews made proselytes of individuals from time to time, the number of those thus added to them was relatively insignificant, and of any general attempt to convert the world to Judaism there is no trace in the I Jewish literature of any age. If all the world were Jews, where would be the special privilege and glory of the Jew? But Christianity is nothing if not missionary. It exists because its Founder said to his followers, "Go, disciple," and it exists for no other purpose than this. From the day of Pentecost until the day of Christ's second coming, the history of Christianity has been-will be-a history of missionary advance.

But when the world-wide scope of the gospel was admitted, there was still much question as to the status of Gentiles when they had been converted and baptized. The old notion that the Christian was also a Jew was slow in giving way, and with great diligence the task was continued of sewing the new patch of Christianity on the old, worn-out garment of Judaism, notwithstanding Jesus had declared it to be impossible and foolish. Still in bondage to the law of Moses, many were unwilling that others should enjoy the liberty wherewith Christ has made men free. They demanded that every Gentile convert should become not only a Christian, but a Jew, and insisted that he should be circumcised and become a debtor to the whole law. But there were men like Paul, who, though bred as Jews, when they had become converts to Christianity, comprehended its significance. He, a Pharisee of the Pharisees, glorying in his servitude to the law and his scrupulous observance of all its requirements, strove long and violently against the new faith and its adherents. But when he was enlightened by the Spirit of God, there fell, as it were, scales from his eyes; thenceforth he discerned clearly that Christianity differed profoundly from Judaism, in that it was a religion of the spirit, not of the flesh. He saw that in Christ the whole law had been fulfilled, and that the believer in him is delivered from its bondage; that a religion of types and external rites was now anachronism, and must soon die out among those who accepted Jesus as the Messiah. Therefore, to bind the Gentile converts with this moribund law, to require spiritual believers to live after fleshly ordinances, was not only ridiculous and unjust, but was in fact to nullify the preaching of the gospel to the Gentiles.

The crisis in this "irrepressible conflict" was reached at Antioch about fourteen years after Pentecost. Paul had preached for some years in Asia Minor, especially at his native city of Tarsus, and at the invitation of Barnabas he went to Antioch to take part in a promising work there. For a year they preached and taught, and there the disciples were first called Christians. At the instance of the Holy Spirit, Barnabas and Saul were set apart for a special work of preaching in the regions beyond, and the second great step forward was taken in the history of Christianity. They made a tour of Asia Minor, and the island of Cyprus, in which they probably spent two years, and on their return to Antioch again abode there a long time. It was at this juncture that certain men from Judea endeavored to persuade the Antioch church that unless Gentiles were circumcised after the custom of Moses, they could not be saved. No little dissension followed, and it was finally decided that "Paul and Barnabas and certain others of them should go up to Jerusalem to the apostles and elders about this question." The proceedings and decision of this "council" at Jerusalem are given fully in the fifteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. The meeting was the Gettysburg of the Judaizing party; the Gentiles were not required to be circumcised and to live as Jews; and although the struggle continued for some time, and once again at Antioch became violent, these were only the expiring throes of error. From this time onward Christianity assumed a distinct character, and was no longer confounded with Judaism. The settlement of this question not only determined for that age the character of Christ?s religion, but prepared the churches for a larger advance in missionary effort.

The details of the evangelization of the Roman empire ire only imperfectly known to us, though the fact of such evangelization is amply attested by the New Testament documents, as well as by uniform Christian tradition. We have a fairly complete account of the labors of Paul, especially up to his imprisonment at Rome, closing  about the year A. D. 63. Three missionary journeys of his are described with considerable fulness of detail. The first has already been mentioned; in its course the gospel was preached in Salamis and Paphos, at Antioch of Pisidia, Jconium, Lystra, and Derbe, perhaps in other places. Not less than three years must be allotted to the second journey, during which the apostle preached in Galatia, at Philippi, Thessalonica, Berea, Athens, and Corinth, staying in the last-named city a year and a half. The third journey occupied about four years, of which over two were spent at Ephesus, and the rest in Galatia and Phrygia, Greece (probably at Corinth), and Troas. The story of these twelve years of Paul's life is practically all that we know in any detail of the apostolic labors through the Roman empire. For the rest we must depend on vague hints and uncertain traditions. It appears probable, however, that after A. D. 63 Paul was acquitted and released, and labored four or five years more, visiting Crete and Macedonia, Troas and Miletus, and perhaps also Spain, before his final arrest, imprisonment, and martyrdom. This conclusion best explains many passages in the so-called pastoral Epistles that are otherwise puzzling, not to say inexplicable.

Regarding the labors of the other apostles, our information is even more scanty and less trustworthy. Had John Mark performed for Barnabas and Peter the service that Luke rendered to Paul; had some disciple of John made a record of his labors, our knowledge of the apostolic era would have been vastly increased. We know that the First Epistle of Peter was written from Babylon and addressed to the Christians of five Asiatic provinces; from this it is perhaps a fair inference that Peter had previously preached in those provinces. That he was ever in Rome does not appear from the New Testament, but tradition is well-nigh unanimous that he suffered martyrdom there. That he was bishop of the Roman church for twenty-five years, according to Roman claims, is a later and manifestly absurd invention. There no reason to doubt the tradition that John lived to an advanced age and died at Ephesus. The fourth Gospel shows traces of Alexandrine thought that makes probable a period of residence in the greatest of the Eastern cities of the empire. All that we definitely know of him is that for a time he was in banishment on the Isle of Patmos; whether he had any personal connection with the seven churches that he addresses in the Revelation can only be conjectured.

Some few scattered traditions embody the beliefs that were prevalent in the third century regarding the labors of the other apostles. Andrew is said to have preached in Scythia, Bartholomew in India, Thomas to have evangelized Parthia, and Mark to have founded the church at Alexandria. It is impossible to decide whether tales like these are lingering echoes of the truth or the mere inventions of a later time. Even regarding them as inventions, however, they have this significance: they testify to a general belief in the third century that the labors of all the apostles were abounding and fruitful. There is no doubt that the new leaven spread with a rapidity truly wonderful throughout the Roman empire. In the earliest  records of Christian literature in the second century we find Christians literally everywhere. The well-known letter of Pliny to the Emperor Trajan, written about A. D. III, says that this "superstition" pervades not only the cities of his province (Pontus and Bithynia), but villages and even farms, so that the temples were almost deserted, the sacred rites intermitted, and fodder was no longer purchased for the animals to be sacrificed, at which the farmers complained bitterly. Heathen and Christian writers alike bear witness to the rapid spread of Christianity throughout the empire. To account for this phenomenon something more is necessary than what we are told in the New Testament records; there is a large amount of unwritten history of the apostolic period, that must forever remain unwritten, but whose general outlines we can vaguely see. It has been estimated, though this must necessarily be pure guesswork, that when John, the last of the apostles, passed away, near the close of the first century, the number of Christians in the Roman empire could not have been less than one hundred thousand. In so brief a time the grain of mustard seed had become a tree.

CHAPTER II

THE NEW TESTAMENT CHURCHES—CONSTITUTION

"THE church of the living God, the pillar and I ground of the truth," writes the Apostle Paul to Timothy, his beloved son in the faith. Though in the Gospels we find little about the church, as has already been noted, in the other New Testament writings we find much. The word ecclesia (assembly, church) is used in these documents one hundred and fourteen times, and in three different senses as applied to Christians: once to denote the assembly of the saints in heaven (Heb. 12: 23); often to describe the one assembly of the saints, the church universal, composed of all followers of Christ; but in the great majority of cases (eighty-five) to denote a local assembly or congregation of the followers of Christ. The church universal is not regarded in the Epistles as a visible and organized body, but is wholly spiritual, incorporeal, corresponding essentially to the idea of the kingdom of God taught in the Gospels. The only visible and organized body of Christians recognized by the New Testament writers was the local assembly or congregation. In other words, the apostles knew nothing of a Church; they knew only churches.

These churches, though visible and organized, were also spiritual. They were the outward embodiment of the kingdom of God among men, and the means by which that kingdom was to be extended. But the kingdom of God is before all things spiritual. "Except a man be born anew (an�then, from above) he cannot see the kingdom of God," said our Lord to Nicodemus. And again he states the truth yet more emphatically, this time with a reference to baptism, the symbol of the new birth: "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of God" (John 3: 1-21). This new birth, the work of the Holy Spirit, is conjoined to "faith," "belief" in Christ on the part of man, and as its result man is justified in the sight of God (I Peter I:5, 9; Rom. 5:   I; Gal. 2:20; Heb. 10: 38; 11:6). The necessity of a new birth through faith in Christ is everywhere assumed in the Epistles as a truth too familiar to be formally stated. It is the postulate, without which the apostolic writings cannot possibly be understood.

Hence the New Testament churches consisted only of those who were believed to be regenerated by the Spirit of God, and had been baptized on a personal confession of faith in Christ. What was done on the day of Pentecost seems to have been the rule throughout the apostolic period: the baptism of the convert immediately followed his conversion. It is a distinct departure from New Testament precedent to require converts to postpone their baptism. It is true, that these converts were Jews, that they only needed to be convinced that Jesus was the promised Messiah, and to submit to him as Lord, to make them fit subjects for baptism; as it is also true that, with the prospect of persecution and even death before them, there was no temptation to make a false profession. This made possible and prudent a haste that in our day might be dangerous; but the principle should be recognized and admitted, as taught by all New Testament precedent, that no more time should separate baptism from conversion than is necessary to ensure credible evidence of a genuine change of heart.

That all those added to the church at Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost were capable of making, and did make, intelligent personal confession of faith, is as certain as words can make anything. Nor is there the slightest indication in the New Testament writings that, during the apostolic age, any were received into the church save those who had come to years of personal responsibility and understanding. No scholar pretends that the baptism of infants is taught in the Scriptures; they are absolutely silent on the subject; yet from this silence certain inferences have been made. It is sometimes assumed that a continuity of life unites the Old Dispensation and the New. As children were by birth heirs of the promise through Abraham, so they are assumed to be by birth heirs of promise through Christ. In this view the New Dispensation is organically one with the Old; baptism merely replaces circumcision, the church replaces the synagogue and temple, the ministry replaces the priesthood, while the spirit of all continues unchanged. It appears to Baptists, on the other hand, to be clearly taught in Scripture that the New Dispensation, though a fulfilling and completion of the Old, is radically different from it. Under the Old Dispensation a child was an heir of promise according to the flesh, but under the New Dispensation natural birth does not make him a member of the kingdom of God; he must be born from above, born of the Spirit. The church has for its foundation principle a personal relation of each soul to Christ, and not a bond of blood; a child might be born a Jew, but he must be born again to become a Christian.

The more this silence of the Scriptures regarding the baptism of infants is considered, the more significant it becomes. Jesus took little children in his arms and declared that of the childlike is the kingdom of God (Matt. I9: I4), but he nowhere authorized baptism save when preceded by faith. The cases where whole households were baptized do not fairly warrant the inference that they contained infants, as is now frankly admitted by all scholars.. Either they afford no positive ground for inference of any kind (as in the case of Stephanas, I Cor. I: I6; I6: I5), or they absolutely forbid the inference that infants were among the baptized (as in the case of the jailer at Philippi, where all who were baptized first had the gospel preached to them, Acts I6 : 32, 33). The case of Lydia and her household is often cited as one that proves infant baptism, but it is impossible to infer from the narrative (Acts I6 : I4, I5), anything certain, or even probable, regarding Lydia's family. Whether she was ever married, or whether she ever had children, or whether her children were not all dead or grown up are matters of pure conjecture. It is possible to guess any of these things, and a dozen besides, but guesses are not fair inferences, still less proofs.

Those who believe in a mixed church-membership, including unregenerate and regenerate, often cite the parable of the Tares (Matt. 13: 24-30). The field, they say, represents the church, and as the tares and wheat were to be suffered to grow together till the harvest, so the regenerate and unregenerate are to be intermingled in the church. It is a decisive objection to this plausible theory that our Lord himself interpreted this parable to his disciples (Matt. I 3:  36-43), and declared that the field represents, not the church, but the world; the tares being separated from the wheat in the final judgment of mankind.

If the church "consists of all those throughout the world that profess the true religion, together with their children," as the Westminster  Confession declares, does it not necessarily follow that children are equally entitled with their parents to all the privileges of the church? If they are fit subjects for baptism, they are fit subjects for the Lord's Supper. Whoso denies this certainly assumes the burden of proving the reasonableness of his position. There is nowhere in Scripture any authority to give the former ordinance, and to withhold the latter. The Greek Church recognizes the fact that infant baptism logically requires infant communion, and has the courage of its logic; but other Pedobaptist bodies save part of the truth, at the expense of consistency, by denying participation in the Lord's Supper to those baptized in infancy until these have reached years of understanding, and have made a public profession of faith.

The church at Jerusalem, composed of believers baptized on profession of personal faith in Jesus Christ, "continued steadfastly in the apostles" teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and the prayers. There is no record in the New Testament that any joined in the breaking of bread, which is the usual term for the celebration of the Lord's Supper, without first having been baptized. What is stigmatized, therefore, as "close" communion is simply strict adherence to scriptural order—an order that bodies forth the spiritual significance of the two ordinances delivered to his church by Christ: baptism, as the emblem of the new birth, following immediately upon that birth, and being administered but once; the Lord's Supper, the emblem of union with Christ, and spiritual partaking of his nature, coming later and being often repeated. In coming to the table of the Lord, who shall venture to add or to take from the terms prescribed by himself and by apostolic example? Precisely because the table is the Lord's, and not theirs, his obedient followers are constrained to yield to his will.

Such was the first Christian church, as to constitution and ordinances; and such, in these particulars, the churches of Christ continued to be to the close of the apostolic era. There were no other ordinances in those churches, for to constitute an ordinance three things are needful: it must be a command of Christ himself; addressed not to individuals, but to Christians at large, and obviously intended to be obeyed for all time; and there must be evidence that the command was so understood and obeyed generally in the apostolic churches. Only baptism and the communion meet these conditions. The laying on of hands after baptism, and in ordination, is supported by Scripture precedent, but it is not an ordinance, for it was not commanded by Christ. Washing the feet of disciples is a command of Christ, but lacks the element of universality, and was evidently not practised as a rite in the apostolic churches. On the otherhand, the commands to baptize and to break bread are accompanied by words indicating that these things were to be observed perpetually by the followers of Christ. Of organization there was at first none in the church at Jerusalem. The apostles naturally took the lead and oversight of the flock, and for a time the need of officers was not felt. The first step was the appointment of deacons, in order to relieve the apostles from the labor and responsibility of distributing alms. These officers were chosen by the entire church, which is thus seen to be a democracy from the first, and set apart to their work by prayer and laying on of hands—an apostolic precedent that Baptists have not always been careful to follow. The appointment of pastors to have oversight of the churches, as their numbers increased, was the next step, so that the apostles might be free to give themselves to their specific work of evangelization.

We first learn definitely of this office some fourteen years later, when Barnabas and Paul were returning to Antioch from their first missionary journey, visiting the churches they had founded: We read, "And when they [Barnabas and Paul] had appointed for them elders in every church, and had prayed with fasting, they commended them to the Lord, on whom they had believed." The word translated "appoint" is conceded by all scholars to signify "to stretch forth the hand," probably for the purpose of voting. This is held to indicate that the congregations chose each its own pastor, the apostles setting apart the chosen ones with prayer, and, as is implied in other passages, with the laying on of hands. With the election of pastors, the organization of the church became complete, and in the New Testament there is no evidence of any further ecclesiastical machinery.

The chief officer of a New Testament church is called by various titles, "bishop," "elder," "teacher," "pastor." The latter two seem to describe functions rather than an office, and the former two are interchangeable but not synonymous. "Bishop" (episcopus) is a term of Greek origin, and means overseer, president. It indicates the duties of the office, which were executive. "Elder" (presbuteros) is of Hebrew origin, and refers to the honor paid this officer, as in the Jewish synagogue, an honor that was doubtless originally due to the selection of the older and wiser members for the office. It is admitted by all scholars that in the apostolic times "bishop" and "elder" were the same; but some advocates of episcopacy hold the later bishops to have been the successors of the apostles. Of this, however, there is no evidence, either in the writings of the apostles themselves or in the literature of the second century.

Not only was the New Testament bishop chosen by his flock, and the officer of the single congregation. but he is regarded as one of them and one with them. No idea of a division into "clergy" and "laity" appears in the New Testament. No priestly character or function is ascribed to either bishop or deacon, but the universal priesthood of believers is unmistakably taught. Sacerdotal ideas are not found in the generation immediately succeeding the apostles, but are distinctly of a later development, and are unmistakable marks of the degeneracy and corruption of the churches.

In the churches of Asia Minor, if not generally in the New Testament churches, there was a plurality of elders in each church. This may have been due to the fact that the churches of which we read most were in cities, and soon became too large for the oversight of one man. It is possible that in some cases, as at Jerusalem, they be. came too large to assemble in any one place, and met in separate congregations, each with its own elder. If this conjecture is sound, it still remains unquestionable that the several congregations were regarded as one, the division being merely for convenience; for while we read of "the churches" of a province like Galatia, we always read of "the church" at Corinth or Ephesus or Antioch or Jerusalem.

Simple in organization and democratic in government, the New Testament churches were independent of each other in their internal affairs. There is no instance of a single church, or of any body of churches, undertaking to control the action of another, or of a church being overruled by superior ecclesiastical authority. To the teaching of apostles guided by the Spirit of God, they did, indeed, defer much, and rightly; but not so much to the apostolic office as to the Spirit of God speaking through the apostle. The so-called council of Jerusalem, the nearest approach to the control of local churches by exterior authority (presbytery), had an authority rather moral than ecclesiastical, and its decision was final rather because it was felt to be the wisest solution of a grave question than because it was imposed by ecclesiastical powers and enforced by ecclesiastical discipline.

But though independent of external authority, the Churches were riot independent of external obligations. The church, in the broadest sense of the term, in the New Testament, includes all the regenerate living in obedience to Christ. Hence, though for convenience of administration divided into local congregations, independent of each other as to internal management, it is still the one body of Christ. The several churches owed to their fellow-Christians, both as individuals and as Christians, whatever of loving service it was in their power to render. They were bound to give counsel and help to sister churches that had need of either, and frequent records in the New Testament show that this obligation has been acknowledged and fulfilled. The interdependence and fraternity of the churches is a broader and more precious truth than their independence. If the former, when abused, leads to centralization and prelacy, the latter, pushed to extremes, leads to disintegration, discord, and weakness. The apostles urged upon churches as well as upon individuals the duty of bearing one another's burdens, comforting each other in trouble, assisting each other in need, and generally co-operating to further the interests of the kingdom of God.

The worship of the early Christians was simple and spiritual. The public services consisted of prayer, praise, and the preaching of the word, probably with reading of the Old Testament writings, and of the New Testament writings as they appeared and were circulated through copies. In these respects the first churches, as was natural, no doubt followed the custom of the Jewish synagogues, to which their members had been accustomed from infancy. Music filled an important place in this worship, as we may infer from the apostle's reference to the "psalms and hymns and spiritual songs" as in common use. The chanting of psalms, antiphonal and otherwise, was no doubt a marked feature of Christian worship from the first, especially among those educated as Jews. Traces of ritual are found in the New Testament, not only in the Lord's Prayer and the doxologies, but in rhythmical passages in the apostolic writings. But this ritual was simple, plastic, voluntary; not a rigid and required service. Nothing is more marked in the spiritual life of the early church, so far as it is disclosed in the Acts and Epistles, than its spontaneity and freedom from the bondage of formalism. This is, of course, more markedly manifest in the informal gatherings, closely resembling the modern prayer-meeting, that supplemented the more public and general assemblies of the Lord's Day. These, however, like the agap�, or love feasts, that for a time accompanied the celebration of the Supper, were liable to abuse, and against disorderly proceedings in them we find the Apostle Paul warning the Corinthian church.

The distinctive day of worship among apostolic Christians was the first day of the week, the Lord's Day. The disciples met on the evening of this day, on which the risen Christ had manifested himself to some of them, and he met with them. A week later they again assembled, and again he met them. There is no reason to doubt that the observance continued thereafter without a break. Thus, while there is no definite precept for the observance of the Lord's Day, there is definite precedent, and the example of the apostles, where it is clear and explicit, is tantamount to command. By the year A. D. 55 this first-day meeting of Christians seems to have become a recognized custom (Acts 20 7; I Cor. I6:  2); yet it is not until the second century that we have positive proof that the Lord's Day was universally observed among Christians. For some time those who had been bred Jews continued to observe the Sabbath in their usual manner, and the matter even became a subject of contention between Jew and Gentile (Rom. I6 :  5, 6; Col. 2 I6); but in the second century sabbatizing was condemned by Christian writers. Neither in the New Testament nor in the Christian literature of the first three centuries is there any confounding of the Sabbath and the Lord's Day, or any intimation that the fourth commandment has anything to do with the observance of the Lord's Day. On the contrary, the Sabbath is treated as typical and temporary, like circumcision, and done away with as were all the ordinances of the law.

There were doubtless other times of meeting in the apostolic churches, besides the first day of the week. For a brief time after the day of Pentecost, every day appears to have been a day of worship. as it even now is with churches during a season of special revival; and the Lord's Supper was at this time celebrated daily. At a later period it was celebrated, apparently, every Lord's Day, though there is nothing to indicate that this was regarded as obligatory. Any Baptist church, however, that should choose to spread the table of the Lord every Lord's Day would have sufficient Scripture precedent to justify it in so doing. The one thing for which no New Testament precedent can be pleaded is the letting of months go by without a celebration of the Communion.

CHAPTER III

CHRISTIANITY AND THE C�SARS

BEFORE the end of the apostolic age the followers of Christ suffered severe persecution at the hands of the Roman emperors. The first great persecution, that of Nero, probably had no other origin than the capricious cruelty of that infamous ruler. The persecutions of his immediate successors were prompted by passion rather than by principle; it is not till the reign of Trajan that we find persecution for the first time adopted intelligently and deliberately as a fixed imperial policy. This emperor, in his letter to Pliny, governor of Bithynia from 109 to III, directed that Christians should not be sought out nor proceeded against on anonymous accusations; but when accused by a responsible person they should be tried, and on conviction should be put to death.

To understand these persecutions by the better of the Roman emperors—and, as a rule, the higher an emperor's character the more severely he persecuted the Christians—we must look at the Roman laws. Religion was from the earliest times a matter of statecraft in Rome. There was a State religion, and public worship of the State deities was conducted by the magistrates. The worship of foreign gods was prohibited on pain of death by the Twelve Tables, the earliest code of laws among the Romans, and for a time this prohibition seems to have been absolute; but as other nations were conquered and absorbed a liberal policy was shown toward the religions of the conquered peoples. By act of the Senate these national deities were given recognition; temples in their honor could be established in Rome, and their devotees had equal rights with Romans, but were forbidden to make proselytes. Until a religion was thus formally recognized, it was forbidden (religio licita), but on such recognition it became a tolerated religion (religio licita). Christianity was at first supposed to be a form of Judaism, which as a national religion was tolerated and even protected by the emperors; and accordingly it was at first treated as religio licita. Soon, however, its real nature came to be known. It was found to be exclusive of all other religions; it not only made proselytes, but by its rapid progress it threatened the overthrow of the State religion. It was, therefore, religio illicita, and to embrace it was a capital offense.

Moreover, Christians were suspected of disloyalty. They avoided military service. Their conscientious refusal to offer divine honors to the emperor—which was done by throwing a little incense on the fire burning before his statue, to the Roman an act like the taking of the oath of allegiance among us—was misconstrued into political hostility. There were severe laws in the empire against clubs, secret societies and the like; no association was lawful unless specially licensed, and the emperors were so jealous of these clubs, as affording opportunities for conspiracy, that Trajan actually refused to sanction a company of firemen in Nicomedia. The Christian church was constructively an illegal secret society, since it was an organization not sanctioned by the emperor, that held frequent private meetings; and in order to protect themselves, the Christians held these meetings with great secrecy.

It was not mere wanton cruelty, therefore, that led the emperors to persecute the Christians, but a fixed  State policy. But nevertheless, popular hatred at times waxed hot against the Christians, and emperors occasionally persecuted to gratify this hatred, based on ignorance and slander. Public opinion is not without influence, even in a despotic government. A saying that passed into a proverb was: Deus non pluit-duc ad Christianos (the heavens do not rain—lead us against the Christians). Tertullian probably exaggerates little when he says: "If the Tiber overflow its banks, if the Nile do not water the fields, if the clouds refuse rain, if the earth shake, if famine or storms prevail, the cry always is, "Throw the Christians to the lions!' "

Ten persecutions are mentioned by the Christians of this period and by many historians, of which three are specially remarkable for bitterness and general prevalence through the empire. In the second century persecution was spasmodic and unmethodical, nevertheless the reign of Marcus Aurelius is remembered as one of great suffering by the Christians. It is not certain that he ordered persecutions or sympathized with them, but thousands became martyrs. The first general and systematic persecution throughout the empire was that begun by Decius Trajan (249-251). The authorities were especially severe with the bishops, and Fabian of Rome, Alexander of Jerusalem, and Cyprian of Carthage, are some of those who perished in this persecution. Diocletian began the last great persecution, which raged during the years 303-311. His edicts required that all Christian churches should be destroyed; all copies of the Bible were to be burned; Christians were to be deprived of public office and civil rights, and must sacrifice to the gods on pain of death.

The Christian literature of the first three centuries records the heroic death of many devout believers, but no story is more touching than the martyrdom of Perpeuta and her companion Felicitas, as told by Tertullian, Vivia Perpetua was a matron of Carthage, about twentytwo years of age, and had an infant son. She was wellborn and well-educated, Of her husband the narrative tells us nothing, but we may infer that he was, like her father, a heathen. After being apprehended, her father and brother used all their arts of persuasion to induce her to recant, but in vain. When brought before the procurator, he besought her thus: "Spare the gray hairs of your father, spare the infancy of your boy, offer sacrifice for the well-being of the emperor." She replied: "I will not do so." The procurator said: "Are you a Christian?" She replied: "I am a Christian." The procurator then delivered judgment on the accused, Perpetua among them, and condemned them to the wild beasts. The story of the martyrdom, somewhat abridged, follows in Tertullian's words:

"The day of their victory shone forth, and they proceeded from the prison into the amphitheater, as if to an assembly, joyous and of brilliant countenances. For the young women the devil prepared a very fierce cow. Perpetua is first led in. She was tossed and fell on her loins; and when she saw her tunic torn she drew it over her as a veil, rather mindful of her modesty than her suffering. So she rose up; and when she saw Felicitas crushed, she approached and gave her her hand, and lifted her up; and the brutality of the populace being appeased, they were recalled to the gate. And when the populace called for them into the midst, they first kissed one another, that they might consummate their martyrdom with a kiss of peace. The rest indeed immovable and in silence received the sword-thrust; but Perpetua, being pierced between the ribs, cried out loudly, and she herself placed the wavering right hand of the youthful gladiator to her throat. Possibly such a woman could not have been slain unless she herself had willed it, because she was feared by the impure spirit. O most brave and blessed martyrs! O truly called and chosen unto the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ!"

Early in the fourth century it became apparent that Christianity was stronger than the C�sars, and could not be destroyed. The long contest ended with the surrender of the emperors. In 311, an edict of toleration was published, confirmed 323, and with the triumph of Constantine in 323 as sole emperor, Christianity became practically the established religion of the empire. In spite of the persecutions to which they had been subjected, the Christians had come to number, according to the most trustworthy estimates, about ten millions in the Roman empire; or one-tenth of the entire population. It was no empty boast of a rhetorician when Tertullian wrote, a century before toleration was won: "We are a people of yesterday, and yet we have filled every place belonging to you—cities, islands, castles, towns, assemblies, your very camp, your tribes, companies, palace, senate, forum! We leave you your temples only. We count your armies; our numbers in a single province will be greater."

While the Christian faith was thus engaged in a life and death contest with the imperial power, it was compelled to defend itself against the hardly less dangerous attacks of heathen adversaries. The emperors threatened with destruction the external organization; heathen philosophers threatened to undermine the very foundations of the faith. Pagan men of letters undertook to bring to pass what imperial power had failed to do. The terrors of the prison and the sword had proved of little avail to hinder the progress of Christianity; the question was now to be tested whether the pen could cut deeper than the sword, whether logic and rhetoric could over-come an obstinacy proof against death itself. The attacks made upon the religion of Christ in the first three centuries have never been surpassed in ability and force. No keener-witted, no more learned, no more bitterly hostile critics have searched the Scriptures with intent to overthrow them than were found in these days. We are authorized in saying this, though their works are known to us only through the references made to them by their Christian antagonists. Not only is this the general repute of these critics, but the profuse quotations from their words in the answers to them show the scope and cogency of their arguments. Nearly all the latterday skeptical objections to Christianity are to be found in these early anti-Christian writings. The new light that modern opponents of evangelical religion profess to have discovered is only the old darkness.

There were then, as now, two stock objections to the religion of Christ—first, the incredibility of the Scriptures as history; second, the absurdity of the doctrines taught in the Scriptures. Then, as now, skeptics objected to the miraculous element in the Bible, and sought to overthrow men's belief in the book as inspired by pointing out its alleged contradictions. Then, as now, men could not reconcile their human systems of philosophy with the biblical teaching regarding the inherent sinfulness of man, the vicarious atonement, regeneration, union with Christ, sanctification, and a resurrection unto eternal life. But it was paganism, not Christianity, that proved incredible when subjected to searching examination. The worship of the gods declined, while the worship of God and his Son, Jesus Christ, spread rapidly through the Roman world. The attacks of the pagan scholars and philosophers hardly retarded the process perceptibly, though for a time they seemed to constitute a serious danger.

These attacks were answered by Christian writers, so completely, so conclusively, that later defenders of tim faith have had little to do but repeat, amplify, and restate their arguments. Among the ablest were Justin, Tertullian, and Origen. Justin, the earliest, was a Platonist, and in his writings stood mainly on the defensive. His two apologies, addressed to the Roman emperors, were largely devoted to showing that Christians were falsely accused by their enemies, that they were not to be blamed for public calamities, and that in all things they were good Ronians and loyal subjects of the emperor. In addition he maintained that the Scriptures are the only source of truth, the pagan mythologies abounding in falsehoods and contradictions. In his dialogue with Trypho, Justin attempts to answer the usual objections of the Jews to the Christian faith, and to prove the Messiahship of Jesus from the Old Testament. This is almost the only trace, outside of the New Testament, of controversy between Jews and Christians. Tertulhan defended the supernatural element in Christianity with great skill. He is the most finished rhetorician among the early Christian apologists, and seldom stood on the defensive, but boldly carried the war into Africa. He was a man of genius, but there was a strain of enthusiasm or fanaticism in him that made him an unsafe guide; nevertheless, his services as a defender of the faith were great.

The culmination of this series of apologies was the treatise of Origen against Celsus: He was born of Christian parents at Alexandria, in 185. The statement will be found in many books of reference that he was baptized in infancy, but as there is no record of his baptism the statement can be nothing more than an inference from the fact that he advocated infant baptism in later years. It is more probable that he was not baptized in infancy, since the custom was far from general when he was born. He received a careful education and as a boy knew whole sections of the Bible perfectly. During the greater part of his life he was a teacher at Alexandria?though he was at one time deposed from the office of presbyter, excommunicated and exiled? and was in high repute as a scholar and writer.

Origen labored to reconcile Greek philosophy with biblical theology, not with entire success, since his teachings afforded some ground for the charges of heresy brought against him. His doctrine concerning Christ was the precursor of the later Arianism, and his denial of eternal punishment has had a great influence on the church in every succeeding century. His great work against Celsus, valuable as it was in its time, had not the same worth for the church of all time as his exegetical studies. He was the first commentator on the Scriptures who seriously set himself, by grammatical and historical study of the text, to ascertain what the word of God really means. This was, in truth, his greatest contribution to apologetics, though in form it was not a defense of Christianity. Has it not been true in all the ages since, that the religion of Christ has been most successfully defended by those who have best set forth its teachings to the world, not by those who have ostensibly, not to say ostentatiously, gone about the task of formal defense? The most effective refutation of error is to teach the truth.

The victory of Christianity was no less complete in controversy than in the civil conflict. About the time the emperors were convinced that persecution was futile, the philosophers saw the uselessness of criticism. The triumph of Christianity was the survival of the fittest. lit won because truth must win when pitted against error, since it has behind it all the power of God. In these ages, as in many others, we can now see that the opposition of pagan writers was a blessing to the church. It compelled Christians to examine well the foundations of their faith, to study the Bible and systematize its teachings, to recognize the discrepancies and apparent contradictions of the Scriptures and inquire how and how far these might be harmonized. The result was that Christianity emerged from its conflict with paganism rejoicing in a faith greatly strengthened, and above all more intelligent. The faith of the church in its Scriptures as a divine revelation could never be seriously shaken after the searching tests they had so triumphantly encountered.

But the victory was in part a defeat also; as often happens, the conquered overcame the conquerors. Christianity apparently vanquished heathenism, but heathenism succeeded in injecting much of its superstition and ritual into Christianity. In the long struggle with the C�sars, Christianity had apparently won; but while appearing to gain all, by obtaining the patronage of Constantine, it was in danger of losing all. The process of degeneracy and corruption—in polity, in doctrine, in spiritual life—had begun long before, but adversity had kept the church comparatively pure. Now it became rapidly assimilated to the world, and the increase of the church in wealth, in numbers, and in worldly power was accompanied by an equally marked decadence of spiritual life, and a departure from the simplicity of the apostolic doctrine and practice.

CHAPTER IV

THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH

BEFORE the last of the apostles had passed away, there were unmistakable signs of degeneracy and corruption in the Christian churches. Warnings against heresies and false teachers, not as future dangers but as present, are found in all of the later New Testament writings. From the very first, the preaching of the cross was to the Jews a stumbling-block and to the Greeks foolishness; and even when Jews and Greeks were converted they endeavored to amalgamate the old religion with the new. In spite of our Lord's assurance that the new wine could not be put into the old bottles without the loss of both, this attempt went on. Profoundly as the religion of the Jews differed from that of the Greeks and of other heathen nations, yet all pre-Christian religions had one element in common—they promised salvation to those who would attain the scrupulous observance of ecclesiastical rites. The note of all religions before Christianity was salvation by works; Christianity alone taught salvation by faith.

The efforts of converts imperfectly converted to assimilate Christianity to their former faith were only too successful. They failed to grasp the fundamental principles of the new religion, that each soul's destiny is the result of a personal relation to Jesus Christ, that eternal life is not the mere escape from retribution hereafter, but that it begins here in an intimate and vital union with the Son of God. They imagined that eternal destiny is settled by outward act, that the wrath of God may be averted by rites and ceremonies. The natural result was the substitution of formalism for spirituality, devotion to the externals of religion taking the place of living faith. To this one root may be traced in turn every one of the corruptions of the church, all of its aberrations of doctrine and practice. So soon as the churches founded by the apostles lost sight of the truth that man must be born again, and that this new birth is always associated with personal faith in Christ, the way was prepared for all that followed.

In the earliest Christian literature, after the apostolic period, we may trace three tendencies toward degeneration, all proceeding from this common cause, developing along lines parallel at first, yet distinct, afterward converging, and at length constituting a logical, consistent whole. These are: the idea of a Holy Catholic Church, the ministry a priesthood, and sacramental grace.

Jesus prayed that his disciples might be one, and his apostles taught that the church is the temple of the Holy Ghost, and therefore both one and holy. Early in the second century, however, these ideas assumed a different form from that of the New Testament. The churches were conceived of as forming together one Church, not spiritual merely, but visible, extending throughout the world, and therefore catholic (i. e., universal). Persecution doubtless had much to do with emphasizing in the minds of Christians their unity, but an exaggerated notion of the value of formal oneness came to prevail, until schism was reckoned the deadliest of sins a Christian could commit. The preservation of outward unity thus becoming the paramount consideration, it followed that whatever error a majority in the church might come to hold, the minority must accept it, rather than be guilty of this deadly sin of schism. This ideal of a Holy Catholic Church, outside of which was no salvation, unity with which was necessary tcf unity with Christ, prepared the way for all the corruptions that were introduced.

Another parallel development downward in the second century was the attribution of some mystical or magical power to baptism. It must be confessed that there are a few passages in the New Testament writings which, if they stood alone, would favor this view. Except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of Gods? (John 3 : 3). "Which also after a true likeness doth now save you, even baptism" (I Peter 3 :  I4). "Arise and be baptized, and wash away thy sins" (Acts 22 : I6) If passages like these stood alone, unmodified, we should be compelled to the conclusion that faith alone, without baptism, does not avail to save. By ignoring to a great degree those other and relatively numerous passages in which the spirit is exalted above the letter, and faith is made the vital principle of the Christian life instead of ritual, the churches soon made outward rites of more significance than inward state. Baptism was regarded, not perhaps as absolutely necessary to salvation, but as so necessary an act that if it could not be performed precisely in accordance with Christ's command and apostolic precedent, some simulacrum of it must be substituted.

The Christians of that age were indeed justified in laying great stress on the importance of obeying Christ in baptism. It never seems to have occurred to them, as it has occurred to Christians of recent times, to evade this command, because to obey was inconvenient or distasteful; or on the avowed ground that something else might be substituted for the act commanded that would be more accordant with the delicate sensibilities of cultivated and refined people. Their obedience was implicit, ready, complete. Its one fault was an excess of virtue—an attempt to obey in cases where obedience was im possible. When water in sufficient quantities for immersion was wanting, there could be no proper baptism; but, as baptism was now conceived to be so very important, something must be done, and water was in such cases poured upon the head thrice, in quantities as profuse as possible, no doubt, thus counterfeiting immersion as nearly as might he. The true principle was missed? that where obedience is impossible God accepts the willingness to obey for obedience itself; and the wrong principle was adopted—that God can be obeyed by doing something other than what he commands.

We see the first step in this process in the document known as "The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles," which scholars assign to the first half of the second century. The injunction regarding baptism is: "Now concerning baptism, thus baptize ye: having first uttered all these things, baptize into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, in running water. But if thou hast not running water, baptize in other water; and if thou canst not in cold, then in warm. But if thou hast neither, pour water upon the head thrice, into the name of the Father, and Son, and Holy Spirit. But before the baptism let the baptizer and the baptized fast, and whatsoever others can; but the baptized thou shalt command to fast for two or three days before." There is only a bare hint here of a sacramental idea, but by the time of Justin Martyr (about A. D. 150) the process of identifying the sign with the thing signifled had made no little progress. He calls baptism "the water-bath of regeneration." "Those who believe our doctrine," he says, "are led by us to a place where there is water, and in this way they are regenerated." By the time of Tertullian (200) the idea of baptismal regeneration is firmly established. That is to say, baptism is no longer regarded as merely a type or symbol of regeneration, but the means by which the Spirit of God effected regeneration. In the writings of the AnteNicene church Fathers, the use of "regenerate" to mean "baptize" is so common as to be almost the rule. For a time, doubtless, the usage was figurative, but the figure was soon lost sight of, and baptism was accepted as a literal means of regeneration.

One of the first practical consequences of this doctrine regarding baptism was the usage known as "clinic" baptism (from kline, a couch), or the baptism of those supposably sick unto death. The first recorded case of this kind, though others may have occurred before, is that of Novatian (sometime before 250). Being very ill, and supposed to be near death, yet desiring to be baptized and wash away his sins, water was brought and poured about him as he lay on his couch, immersion being thus simulated as closely as possible under the circumstances. Novatian recovered, however, or we should probably never have heard of this case, and afterward entered the ministry, but the sufficiency of his clinic baptism was from the first disputed. The question of the validity of such baptisms was submitted to Cyprian, bishop of Africa, and in one of the letters of that ecclesiastic we have an elaborate discussion of the matter. He was asked, he tells us, "of those who obtain God's grace in sickness and weakness, whether they are to be accounted legitimate Christians, for that they are not to be washed, but affused (non loti sunt, sed per fusi) with the saving waters." His chief argument was one since common among mutilators of the ordinance, that a little water would answer as well as much. His conclusion was that "the sprinkling of water (aspersio), prevails equally with the washing of salvation; and that when this is done in the church, when the faith both of receiver and giver is sound, all things hold and may be consummated and perfected by the majesty of the Lord, and by the truth of faith."

It will be noted by the attentive reader of these words that the decision rests wholly on the sacramental notion that baptism conveys God's saving grace. It was a natural conclusion by those who held this view that God's grace could work with a little water as well as with more. But it was long before Cyprian's view fully prevailed in the church. It was agreed, to be sure, thac clinic baptism would suffice for salvation, but it was felt to be an incomplete and unsatisfactory form, and ordination was long refused those who had been subjects of this mutilated ceremony. The idea that affusion would serve as baptism in other than cases of extreme necessity made its way very slowly in the church, and that form of administration had no official sanction until the Synod of Ravenna, in 1311, decided that "baptism is to be administered by trine aspersion or immersion."

The first clinic baptisms, as we have seen, were performed by so surrounding the body of the sick person with water that he might be said to be immersed in water. It was, however, a short and easy step to diminish the quantity of water, and then to apply it to other than rick persons. The practice of perfusion and affusion gradually increased from the time of Novatian, though for several centuries immersion continued to be the prevailing administration of the ordinance.

Another consequence of the idea of baptismal regeneration was the baptism of infants. It logically followed, if those unbaptized were unregenerate, that all who died in infancy were unsaved. This was a conclusion from which the Christian consciousness of the early centuries revolted as strongly as that of our own day, which utterly rejects the Westminster declaration that "elect infants" are saved, with its logical corollary that non, elect infants are lost. The true solution of the difficulty would have been found in a return to apostolic ideas of the nature and function of baptism; but a contrary idea having become too deeply settled in the church for such a return, the only alternative solution was to baptize infants, so that they might be regenerated and saved if they died before reaching the years in which personal faith is possible.

Just when infant baptism began is uncertain; scholars have disputed long over the question without arriving at any decisive proof. The passages often quoted from the writings of Justin and Iren�us are admitted by candid Pedobaptist scholars to fall far short of proof that infants were baptized in their times. It is tolerably certain, however, that by the time of Tertullian the practice was common, though by no means universal. We know, for example, that Augustine, though the son of the godly Monica, was not baptized in infancy, but on personal profession of faith at the age of thirty-three. Gregory of Nazianzum and Chrysostom are two others. Similar cases were frequent without a doubt, though from this time on they became more rare, until after the sixth century the practice of infant baptism was universal, or nearly so. Nothing in the history of the church did so much as this departure from apostolic precedent to prepare the way for papacy. It introduced into the church a multitude whose hearts were unchanged by the Spirit of God, who were worldly in aims and in life, and who sought for the worldly advancement of the church that thus their own power and importance might be magnified. This consummation was doubtless aided and hastened by the rapid contemporary growth of the church in numbers and its increase in worldly prosperity.

In the section concerning baptism, already quoted from "The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles," the catechumenate is already recognized, at least in germ. Baptism was no longer to be administered upon the mere confession of faith, but was to be preceded by a somewhat elaborate instruction, for which the first six chapters of the "Teaching" were originally devised. The catechumenate was not in itself a departure from the fundamental principles of the primitive churches. There was a necessity, such as is felt by the missionaries in heathen lands at this day, of instructing converts in the first principles of the Christian faith. It is true now in heathendom as it was then, that a sufficient knowledge of the Christian faith for salvation may be gained in a comparatively brief time, while the convert is in a dense state of ignorance regarding all else that separates Christianity from his heathen faith. Accordingly, our own missionaries are compelled in some cases, perhaps in all, to exercise caution in the reception of those heathen who profess conversion, and to give them such preliminary instruction in Christian doctrine as will enable them intelligently to become disciples of Christ and members of a Christian church. But it is evident that instruction of this kind, prior to baptism, should be extremely simple and elementary, and need not be greatly protracted. So soon as the catechumenate was an established institution in the Catholic Church, its system of instruction became elaborate and prolonged, and candidates were delayed in these schools of instruction for many months, even for several years, before they were allowed to be baptized. The tendency of such an institution was to foster the idea that men might be educated into Christianity, and to decrease the reliance of the church upon the agency of the Holy Spirit in the conversion of men. The practical result was to introduce many into the church who had never been subjects of the regenerating grace of God, but had simply been instructed in Christianity as a system of theology or philosophy, and their intellectual assent to its teachings was accepted as equivalent to saving faith. What might have been and doubtless was at first an effective agency for good, became an instrument for the corruption of the church. While it endured and flourished, however (from the second to the fifth centuries), the catechumenate was an evidence not to be controverted of the general prevalence of adult baptism. Its decline and the growth of infant baptism were synchronous.

The idea of sacramental grace did not stop with the corruption of the doctrine of baptism, but extended to the Communion, or Eucharist, as it came to be generally called from the second century onward. There are passages in the early Fathers that amply justify the later doctrine known as the real presence and consubstantiation, if they do not go to the extreme length of transubstantiation. With the decrease of vital faith the increase of formalism kept pace, and the administration of the Lord's Supper, from being a simple and spiritual ceremony, became surrounded by a cloud of ritual and finally developed into the mass of the Roman Church. Laying as great a stress as Luther did later upon the mere letter of Scripture, the church of the third and fourth centuries insisted that the words "This is my body" were to be accepted by all faithful Christians as a literal statement of truth, and that Paul's words when he says that the broken bread is the body of Christ do not indicate a spiritual partaking of Christ's nature, but a literal and materialistic reception of it and through the bread and wine.

The development of the sacerdotal idea was an equally powerful agency in corrupting the church. Though the idea of a priesthood, other thaljthe priesthood of all believers, is not found in the New Testament, we find it very early in the post-apostolic literature. Both Jews and pagans were familiar with this idea of a priesthood, and they naturally, almost inevitably, carried their old religious ideas over into the religion that they had adopted in their adult years. For a time the Fathers seem to have used saeerdotal terms as they used sacramental terms, with a figurative rather than a literal meaning. When they speak of "sanctuary" and "altar" of "priest" and "sacrifice," they do not at first mean all that those words literally imply; but it was not long before the figure of speech disappeared and the literal meaning only remained. Clement of Rome was the first writer to draw a parallel between the Christian ministry and the Levitical priesthood, and is the first to speak of the "laity" as distinct from the clergy. In Tertullian and Cyprian we may trace the completion of the process, and by the end of the third century or early in the fourth, the idea was generally accepted that the clergy formed an ecclesiastical or sacerdotal order, a priestly caste completely separate from the laity.

So great a corruption in the idea of the functions of the ministry could hardly be unaccompanied by a change in its form; and the degeneration we have traced in the practices of the church would naturally affect its polity. What we might reasonably expect to happen did in fact come to pass. In the New Testament we find presbyterbishops, one office with two interchangeable titles, but early in the second century we find bishops and presbyters, two offices, not one, the bishop being superior to the presbyters. Just how this happened is not known, but it is supposed that in churches where a plurality of elders was found, one of the presbyters became the leader or president—whether by seniority, force of character or election can only be conjectured, and is unimportant. To him the title of bishop was gradually   appropriated, so that from being at first only primus inter pares he came, after a generation or two, to be regarded as superior to the presbyters. This is the state of things that we find in the letters of Ignatius, written about the year A. D. 115. But the bishop was as yet bishop of a single church, though there may have been several congregations, each with its presbyters. The state of things was not unlike that which we find now in some of our large cities, where a church has a pastor and several assistants, ministers like himself, who have charge of mission stations in various parts of the city. If, now, we were to give to such a pastor the exclusive title of bishop, and regard his assistants as presbyters only, we should almost exactly reproduce the polity that we find in Jgnatius.

How and when this episcopate became diocesan we do not exactly know. As the churches of the great cities in the empire sent out preachers into the suburbs and adjacent towns, and new churches were formed, they would not unnaturally come under the authority of this bishop. We find from Iren�us onward his jurisdiction, originally described as his parish (paroikia), gradually enlarging, until the third century sees the diocesan system quite fully established. Cyprian goes so far as to tall the bishop the vicegerent of Christ in things spiritual, and almost to make him the church itself: "The church is in the bishop, and the bishop is in the church, and if any one is not with the bishop he is not in the church."

We may also trace in these early centuries the beginn ings of the characteristic doctrines and practices that we associate with Romanism. "The church of the first four centuries" is the shibboleth of many High Churchmen, but they who adopt this motto must assuredly be wofully ignorant of the Fathers about whom they talk so much. If alt roads do not lead to Rome, this one certainly does. Make antiquity the test of truth and Rome has the argument—if by "antiquity" is meant as is usually the case, the first four centuries of Christianity, exclusive of the evidence of the New Testament. In those centuries we find the full doctrine of the mass, the doctrine of penance, confession and priestly absolution, purgatory, the invocation of saints and the use of images in worship. In short, we find all of Romanism but its name and the pope.

We find another thing, not alone characteristic of Romanism, though most prominent in that system, a growth of asceticism resulting in the practice of clerical celibacy and monachism. This likewise may be traced to the root-idea of salvation by works. The Gnostic and Manich~an heresies, though nominally rejected by the Church, were in part accepted. Teaching an eternal conflict between spirit and matter, and that the latter is the source of all evil, this philosophy was easily reconciled with the idea of salvation by works. Sin was held to be the result of the union of man's spirit with a body, and only by keeping the body under, mortifying the flesh by fasting and maceration, could sin be overcome. The contempt for marriage and the undue exaltation of virginity that appears in the Fathers, notably in Jerome, not only gave impetus to monachism and the celibacy of the clergy, with their vast train of evils, but laid the foundation for the exaltation of Mary above her Son, and the idolatries and blasphemies of Roman Catholicism.

It would be unprofitable to go further into the details of this doctrinal and moral corruption of Christianity. All its ramifications sprang from the one idea that salvation is not the free gift of God through Christ, but something to be earned by human effort or purchased from a store of merits laid up by the saints. But it is worth our while to note, in conclusion, that the rapidity with which the doctrine, ritual, and polity of the early church degenerated, was directly proportioned to its growth in wealth and worldly prosperity. There is no lesson taught by the first centuries that needs to be learned now by Baptists more than this. So long as the church was feeble, persecuted, and poor, though in some things it departed from the standard of the New Testament, it was comparatively pure in both doctrine and life. Adversity refined and strengthened it; prosperity weakened and corrupted it. What the persecutions of Nero and Domitian were powerless to accomplish, the patronage of Constantine and his successors did only too well. Baptists have had their period of adversity, when they inherited Christ's promise, "Blessed are ye when men shall reproach you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake." Will they endure the harder test of prosperity, when they are great in numbers, in wealth, in influence, so that all men speak well of them?

CHAPTER V

THE STRUGGLE FOR A PURE CHURCH

THIS degeneration in the church, whose stages we traced in the preceding chapter, was a gradual process, whose completion occupied several centuries. It did not occur without resistance, determined, prolonged, and frequently renewed. Many attempts were made at a reformation of the church, a return to the simplicity and purity of the apostolic churches. The truth was not totally eclipsed at first, only obscured; from time to time men taught anew the spiritual nature of Christ's church, the necessity of regeneration in order to membership in a church of Christ, salvation by grace and not by sacraments and penances. At times these reactions promised to be successful, but they all in turn failed to effect their object. Some failed by their own inherent weakness, others were suppressed by force, and in the end the Holy Catholic Church triumphed over them all. It is instructive to consider the causes of the partial success and the final failure of these attempts to restore an evangelical Christianity.

The first of these protests against the corrupt teachings and life that had come to be prevalent in the church, even in the second century, was Montanism. Little is positively known about the origin of the Montanists, and even the existence of their reputed founder has been denied. Montanus is said to have been a native of Phrygia, a converted priest of Cybele, and began his teachings about 150. He soon gathered about him many followers, among whom were two women of rank, Maximilla and Priscilla (Prisca), who left their husbands to become evangelists of the new sect, among whom they were soon esteemed prophetesses. The new teaching spread with great rapidity, and for a time met with little opposition. We are more fortunate in regard to the Montanists than in the case of many “heretical” sects, for we are not dependent solely on their Catholic opponents for a knowledge of their teachings; a large part of the writings of Tertullian, their ablest adherent and advocate, are also available for our instruction in this matter. From these and other sources we gather that the characteristic doctrines of Montanism were three.

First, they clearly apprehended the fundamental truth that a church of Christ should consist of the regenerate only. As a result of the doctrine of sacramental grace, large numbers were becoming members of the church who, in the judgment of the most charitable, could not be regarded as regenerate. This was true of the adults baptized on profession of faith, and the case became continually worse as the practice of infant baptism extended. Montanus advocated a return to the principle of the New Testament—a spiritual church. His immediate followers called themselves “ spiritual” Christians, as distinguished from the “carnal” who were found in the Catholic Church in great numbers. The Spirit of God has not only regenerated every Christian, they taught, but dwells in an especial manner in every believer, even as Jesus promised the Paraclete (John I6: I3).

So far the Montanists were strictly scriptural. But they went on to teach that by virtue of this indwelling of the Paraclete the “spiritual” not only received an illumination that enabled them to apprehend the truth already revealed, but were given special revelations. The gifts of prophecy and divine inspiration were therefore perpetual in the church. The Montanistic prophets spoke with tongues, with accompaniments of ecstasy and trance. Montanus himself seems to have brought over to his Christian faith not a few of his heathen notions. Soothsaying and divination, accompanied by ecstasy and trance, were characteristic of the Cybele cultus; and though the Montanists rejected the soothsaying and divination as Satanic, they believed the ecstasy and trance to be marks of divine communications. The revelations thus received by these prophets were held to be supplementary, and in a sense superior, to Scripture. A special sanctity was attributed to the sayings of Montanus, Maximilla, and Prisca; but the few examples that have been preserved seem in nowise remarkable.

This was perhaps the gravest departure of Montanism from the model of New Testament Christianity on which it professed to be formed. This single note shows a complete separation in spirit between Montanists and those whose fundamental belief is that in the canon of Scripture we have a complete and authoritative revelation from God, and that whatever contradicts the written word is of necessity to be rejected as untrue. One may trace a curious correspondence in many things between this Montanistic teaching and the doctrine regarding the "inner light" held by the Society of Friends; and an equally curious correspondence between the history of Montanism and the rise in our own day of the sect known as Jrvingites, though they prefer to call themselves the Catholic Apostolic Church. It has often happened in the history of Christianity that a sect or party, beginning with the object of restoring the doctrine and practice of apostolic times, has fallen into fanaticism and false teaching, because, like Montanism, it failed to keep closely to the word of God, as the sole and sufficient rule of faith and practice, not to be supplemented by pretended new revelations any more than by the traditions of men. The supreme authority of the New Testament is the only safe principle for a reformation of religion; if the history of the church teaches anything it teaches that.

The second of the chief features in Montanism was a belief in the speedy coming of Christ to reign with his saints a thousand years. The fragmentary sayings of their prophets that have come down to us, the writings of Tertullian, and the testimonies of the Catholic writers against M�ntanism combine to make this certain. This chiliastic doctrine was then, as often in the later ages of Christianity, tinged with fanaticism. Wherever it has been held by any considerable body of Christians, it has been associated with grave errors and serious disturbances.

This teaching regarding the second coming of Christ doubtless gave a great stimulus to the ascetic spirit among the Montanists, which was their third leading characteristic. Their idea of a regenerate church naturally necessitated a strict discipline, but by no means discipline on an ascetic basis. The Scriptures teach the need of self-control, temperance, subduing the lust of the flesh, keeping the body under; but this victory is to be won by spiritual, not by physical means. Keeping the body under does not mean starving or macerating the body. The New Testament honors the body, and does not teach that it is the essential enemy of the spirit. That is a heathen notion, probably derived from the Manich�ans, or possibly from the Gnostics, who also taught the essential evil of matter.

From some such source, certainly not from the Scriptures, the Montanists obtained the notion that to mortify the flesh is the road to heaven; and among them fasts and vigils were commended, if not commanded, as productive of the bodily state most conducive to holiness. In similar spirit they forbade the use of ornaments. They exalted virginity above marriage, as a state of greater purity, and forbade second marriage as equivalent to adultery. Seven sins were regarded as peculiarly deadly or mortal (pride, covetousness, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, sloth), which when committed after baptism, might be forgiven by God, but should forever cut the sinner off from communion with the church.

At first Montanism was rather a party than a sect, an ecclesiola in ecclesia, and for a time it was tolerated by the bishop of Rome and seemed likely to prevail in the church. The Roman bishop finally rejected Montanism as a heresy, and his already recognized primacy in the West, at least, caused this decision to be generally accepted. Professor M�ller¹ is simply just when he says:

Soon the conflict assumed such a form that the Montanists were compelled to separate from the Catholic Church and form an independent or schismatic church. But Montanism was, nevertheless, not a new form of Christianity; nor were the Montanists a new sect. On the contrary, Montanism was simply a reaction of the old, the primitive church, against the obvious tendency of the church of the day—to strike a bargain with the world, and arrange herself comfortably in it.

Much nonsense has been written by historians about Montanism, because they could not or would not grasp this idea. The Montanists were in general rigidly orthodox, and no serious aberration from the Catholic faith is alleged against them by their opponents. No council formally condemned them, and they were treated as schismatics rather than as heretics. For their schism the Catholic Church was responsible; they did not go out, they were driven out from the church. The church at large resisted and rejected the reformation that Mantanism attempted, but it adopted precisely those features in Montanism that were least scriptural—namely, its asceticism, and its belief that the written revelation admits of supplementary revelations. There is this difference, however, that Rome makes the Spirit dwell in the church at large, not in each believer, so that his revelations are made through the church, and especially through its head, both church and pope being preserved from error by this indwelling Spirit.

Of course the Montanists immersed—no other baptism, so far as we know, was practised by anybody in the second century. There is no evidence that they baptized infants, and their principle of a regenerate church would naturally require the baptism of believers only. In their polity they seem not to have differed from the Catholics; for, though Tertullian speaks as if the idea of the priesthood of all believers was prevalent among them, he also speaks of “bishop and clergy,” and the “ecclesiastical order.” The only natural conclusion, from his undoubtedly Montanistic writings, is that the Montanist bishop was like the Catholic, an officer above the presbyter in rank and authority.

Montanism declined rapidly after the fourth century, though traces of it are found as late as the sixth. It has seemed worth while to set down thus fully the ascertained facts concerning this party, because many writers have claimed that the Montanists were Baptists in all but the name. Nothing has been said concerning them except what is abundantly proved by their own literature; and every intelligent reader will be able to judge for himself in what respects they held the views of modem Baptists and how far they diverged from what we hold to be the teachings of the Scriptures.

Another partial reformation of the church was attempted by the Novatians about the middle of the third century. Novatian was the man whose clinic baptism has already been described. He recovered from his supposed mortal sickness and was ordained a presbyter by Fabian, bishop of the church of Rome. When Fabian died, in 250, there was a vacancy in the office for about a year. The terrible Decian persecution was then raging, and many Christians, overcome by the prospect of death, denied the faith and sacrificed to the emperor. The question Soon arose, What should be done with these faithless Christians (Iapsi) when they afterward professed penitence, and desired to be readmitted into the church?

Two views prevailed, and soon two rival parties in the church advocated them. One party favored a strict discipline; those who had lapsed had committed mortal sin through their idolatry and should remain perpetually excluded from the church—though even the stricter party conceded that if one of the lapsed were sick unto death he should be absolved. The other party held that perpetual exclusion of the lapsed from the church and its sacraments—in which alone salvation could be found—was to anticipate the judgment of God. They, therefore would take a more merciful view of the infirmity of those who had yielded under the stress of persecution, and would restore the lapsed to the communion of the church, after a public confession and a period of probation.

During the vacancy in the Roman episcopate, Novatian was the leading man in the church, and strongly inclined toward the stricter discipline. The laxer party seem, however, to have been in the majority, and in 251 they elected Cornelius as bishop. His election appears to have been entirely regular, but the stricter party would not acknowledge him, and chose Novatian, who was consecrated by three obscure Italian bishops. A synod held at Rome, probably in October, 257, excommunicated him and his followers. Thereafter they constituted a separate sect, called by their opponents Novatians, but themselves preferring the title of Cathari (the pure). The Novatians were the earliest Anabaptists; refusing to recognize as valid the ministry and sacraments of their opponents, and claiming to be the true church, they were logically compelled to rebaptize all who came to them from the Catholic Church. The party gained great strength in Asia Minor, where many Montanists joined it, and in spite of persecution, the Novatians survived to the sixth or seventh century. In this case, as generally, persecution stimulated what it would have destroyed.

The Donatist party in Africa, like the Novatians in Rome, seemed to originate in a mere squabble over an office. Two parties were formed in the church of Carthage regarding the treatment of those who had surrendered the sacred books to be burned during the Diocletian persecution (303-31 I). These traditores, as they were called, incurred great odium. When Caecilian was elected bishop of Carthage in 311, it was as the representative of those who favored the readmission of traditores to the church on easy terms. He was consecrated bishop by Felix of Aptunga, instead of Secundas of Tigisis, the primate of Numidia. This was irregular, yet not in itself invalid; but the stricter party refused to recognize Caecilian, on the ground that Felix was a traditor, and even Caecilian himself was not above suspicion on this score. The real issue at stake was not who should be bishop of Carthage, but what should be the character of that church, and of the Christian churches of Africa generally. Dr. Schaff says of the controversy, writing with a candor and insight not common among church historians:

The Donatist controversy was a conflict between separatism and catholicism; between ecclesiastical purism and ecclesiastical eclecticism; between the idea of the church as an exclusive community of regenerate saints and the idea of the church as the general christendom of State and people. It revolved around the doctrine of the essence of the Christian church, and, in particular, of the predicate of holiness. . . The Donatists laid chief stress on the predicate of the subjective holiness or pgrsonal worthiness of the several members, and made the catholicity of the church and the efficacy of the sacraments dependent upon that. The true church, therefore, is not so much a school of holiness, as a society of those who are already holy; or at least of those who appear so; for that there are hypocrites, not even the Donatists could deny, and as little could they in earnest claim infallibility in their own discernment of men. By the toleration of those who are openly sinful, the church loses her holiness, and ceases to be a church.²

Unfortunately, the Donatists made one capital error: they appealed to the civil power to decide the question that was in its essence spiritual. Donatus himself, who was chosen bishop of Carthage by the stricter party in 315, seems to have been opposed from the first to the intermeddling of the emperor with religious questions, but his party was not controlled by him in this matter. Constantine referred the dispute first to a select committee of bishops, then to the synod of Aries, and finally decided the question himself on appeal. All these decisions were against the Donatists; and after the case had irrevocably gone against them, they came out as stanch defenders of religious liberty, and denied the right of the civil power to meddle in matters of faith and discipline. Their disinterestedness in taking this stand would have been less open to suspicion if they had professed it in the first instance and abstained from all appeals to the imperial power against their opponents. One who appeals to a court for redress is estopped in. honor, as well as in law, from afterward denying its jurisdiction.

Like the Novatians, the Donatists were Anabaptists, but their rebaptizing seems to have been based on a false idea, namely, that in baptism the chief thing is not the qualifications of the baptized, but those of the baptizer. The Donatists and Novatians both rebaptized those who came to them from the Catholic Church, not because they did not believe these persons regenerate when baptized, but because they denied the “orders” of the Catholic clergy. These ministers had been ordained by traditores, by bishops who were corrupt; they were members of a church that had apostatized from the pure faith, and therefore had no valid ministry or sacraments; and for this reason their baptism could not be accepted.

Neither of these attempted reformations was sufficiently radical. Novatians and Donatists seem to have shared the errors of the Catholic Church regarding sacramental grace; their episcopacy cannot be distinguished from that of the Catholic Church, and was certainly far from the simplicity of apostolic order. The Donatists, at any rate, seem to have practised infant baptism; on any other supposition the arguments of Augustine, in refutation of their errors, are unintelligible. Both sects grasped the great truth of the essentially spiritual nature of the church, the necessity of regeneration and a godly life to membership in it; but they failed to follow this truth to its logical implications and to return to the New Testament faith and practice in all things.

Many writers have treated this period as if the truth were only to be found with the so-called heretics, assuming that the Catholic Church must necessarily be always in the wrong. But such is by no means the case; we are, on the contrary, often compelled to admit that as between the heretical sects and the Catholic Church the truth was with the latter. Wrong doctrine and practice were by no means uniformly triumphant. This was especially evident in the notable controversies regarding the doctrine of the Person of Christ. Corrupt as Christianity was fast becoming, it had kept close to the Scripture in the fundamentals of Christian theology until the beginning of the fourth century. Then Anus, a presbyter of Alexandria, taught a doctrine, the germs of which may be found in the teachings of his predecessors (notably, Origen), but was first fully elaborated by his logical and acute mind. His teaching was that the Father alone is God, unbegotten, unchangeable. The Son is the first of created beings, who existed before the worlds were and created them; he is the Logos, the perfect image of God, and may be called God in a sense; but he is not eternal, for he had a beginning, and is not of the same substance as the Father. Anus was an adroit, fascinating man, and propagated his doctrine industriously. It obtained great currency in Palestine and Nicomedia, and spread to all parts of the empire, threatening to displace the orthodox faith.

This spread was accompanied by much bitter controversy, and this fact moved Constantine to interfere. He was anxious, for political reasons, to preserve the peace and unity of the church, otherwise its value to him as an instrument of governing was gone. He therefore summoned a council of the bishops of the church, who, to the number of more than 300, assembled at Nic�a in 325. When he accepted Christianity, he made it the religion—or, at least, a reIigion—of the State. The emperor was the Pontifex Maximus of the old religion, its official head and high priest; and though but a layman in the new faith, he nevertheless aspired to a similar position of authority. Constantine, though at that time not even baptized, presided in his robes of State at the council of Nice, took an influential part in its business and greatly influenced if he did not practically dictate its findings. This council decided against the Arians and adopted the orthodox creed that, with some later changes, still bears its name.

Under Julian the apostate, orthodoxy suffered a reverse and Arianism again seemed about to triumph; but when Theodosius I. became emperor—the having been trained under Nicene influences—he used all his power, and successfully, to suppress the heresy. The conflict was practically ended with the council of Constantinople (381), which readopted the Nicene creed, and from that time Arianism gradually disappears as a dangerous heresy, though it often reappeared in later ages. For a time, indeed, a form of semi-Arianism lingered in the church. The orthodox maintained that the Son is of the same substance with the Father (homo-ousion) ; the Anans that he is of a different substance (hetero-ousion); the semi-Arians that he is of a like substance (homoi-ousion). Like most compromises, semi-Anianism could not be permanently acceptable to either party; to the orthodox it seemed as objectionable as Arianism itself, while to the Arians, though they were at first willing to accept it as a compromise (indeed, it came near getting into the Nicene creed), it seemed to concede too much to orthodoxy.

Athanasius, the leader of the orthodox party, in its struggle against Arianism, was born in Alexandria about 298, received a good education and entered the ministry. At the time of the council of Nice he was not more than twenty-seven years of age, and only an archdeacon, but he was one of the most prominent of the orthodox party and had a large share in the definition of the creed adopted. A similar and even more remarkable case of theological precocity is that of Calvin, who published his immortal “Institutes “ at the age of twenty-seven. In June, 328, Athanasius was chosen bishop of Alexandria, but was fiercely opposed from the first by the party of Anus. Three times they succeeded in driving him from the city, twice by order of the emperor and once by violence. At one time it seemed a case of Athanasius contra mundum—this one man against the world; but with the victory of the orthodox party, he was suffered to return to Alexandria and there to pass his remaining days. He died in May, 373, before the council of Constantinople registered the final triumph of the orthodox faith.

Athanasius saw clearly that a true doctrine of God was the only foundation for the absoluteness of Christianity. He defended Christianity as truly divine, the highest revelation, an absolute and final revelation; clearly seeing that, if the Anian doctrine were true, Christianity could be merely relatively true, and might be superseded by a more perfect revelation, or even by a higher human philosophy. He rightly contended, therefore, that the religion of Christ would be empty and meaningless if he who is set forth in the Scriptures as the one who unites God and man in real unity of being is not the absolute God, but merely the first of created beings. There could be no mediation between God and man by such a being, and the heart is therefore taken out of Christianity by Arianism. Athanasius was a doughty champion of the truth. His exegesis of Scripture is often faulty, but his dialectical skill was great, and in his extant writings he shows the philosophic contradictions and absurdities of the Arian system in a masterly way. Selections from these writings have been translated into english, and may be found in Vol. IV. of the “Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers” (second series). The so-called Athanasian creed, though long confidently attributed to him, is certainly not his composition, and cannot be positively traced to an earlier period than the eighth century. This creed was expunged from the prayer-book of the Episcopal Church in the United States in 1785, but it is still required to be said or sung thirteen times a year in every parish of the Church of England.

CHAPTER VI

THE ECLIPSE OF EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANITY

FROM the close of the apostolic era, even beginning in the days of the apostles, we have seen two opposing tendencies struggling for the mastery in the churches of Christ, which may be briefly described as the spiritual and the worldly. Jesus and his apostles taught salvation by faith, but almost immediately some Christians taught salvation by works. According to the former teaching, baptism and the Lord’s Supper were ordinances to be observed by those regenerated by the Spirit of God; according to the other teaching baptism and the Lord’s Supper were sacraments, channels of divine grace, by which men were made regenerate and confirmed in holiness. The administration of such sacraments demanded a priesthood. So step by step, and by an inevitable process of evolution, the doctrine of salvation by works produced what we know to-day as the Roman Catholic Church, at its head an infallible pope, outside of which church salvation is assured to none. Against this process of development various bodies of Christians, as we have seen, contended in vain during the first four centuries. There were similar contentions throughout the process. The truth was never quite crushed to earth; there were always parties or sects, bitterly hated and persecuted by Catholics, that held with more or less consistency to the evangelical religion. These comparatively pure survivals are found latest in the two extreme portions of the then civilized Europe, in Britain and in Bulgaria.

Rome’s most audacious theft was when she seized bodily the Apostle Peter and made him the putative head and founder of her system; but next to that brazen act stands her effrontery when she “ annexed” the great missionary preacher of Ireland and enrolled him among her saints.” In order to conceal the true chara