w IV- % m ¥^^L . )#• p7 BR 45 .B63 1883 Allen, Alexander V. G. 1841- 1908. The continuity of Christian thought 0?. 3 THE CONTINUITY OF CHRISTIAN THOUGHT: A STUDY OF MODERN THEOLOGY IN THE LIGHT OF ITS HISTORY BY v/ ALEXANDER V. G. ALLEN PROFESSOR IN THE EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL, IN CAMBRIDGE __tl : • BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street &fc tf toer?i&e $res& Camferi&ae 1884 Copyright, 1884, By ALEXANDER V. G. ALLEN. All rights reserved. The Riverside Press, Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by II. 0. Houghton & Co- To DOCTOR PHILLIPS BROOKS ®W Fcrtume # 3!n£"crifceb BY THE AUTHOR. > ^ _ «<> % JAN £3 ^ . < THE JOHN BOHLEN LECTURESHIP. John Bohlen, who died in this city on the twenty-sixth day of April, 1874, bequeathed to trustees a fund of One Hundred Thousand Dollars, to be distributed to religious and charitable objects in accordance with the well-known wishes of the testator. By a deed of trust, executed June 2, 1875, the trustees, under the will of Mr. Bohlen, transferred and paid over to "The Rector, Church Ward- ens, and Vestrymen of the Church of the Holy Trinity, Philadelphia," in trust, a sum of money for certain designated purposes, out of which fund the sum of Ten Thousand Dollars was set apart for the endowment of The John Bohlen Lectureship, upon the following terms and con- ditions : — " The money shall be invested in good, substantial, and safe securities, and held in trust for a fund to be called The John Bohlen Lectureship ; and the income shall be applied annually to the payment of a qualified person, whether clergyman or layman, for the delivery and publication of at least one hundred copies of two or more lecture sermons. These lectures shall be delivered at such time and place, in the city of Philadelphia, as the persons nominated to appoint the lecturer shall from time to time determine, giving at least six months* notice to the person appointed to deliver the same, when the same may conveniently be done, and in no case selecting the same person as lecturer a second time within a period of five years. The payment shall be made to said lecturer, after the lectures have been printed, and received by the trustees, of all the income for the year derived from said fund, after defraying the expense of printing the lectures, and the other incidental expenses attending the same. " The subject of such lectures shall be such as is within the terms set forth in the will of the Rev. John Bampton, for the delivery of what are known as the 'Bampton Lectures,' at Oxford, or any other subject distinctively connected with or relating to the Christian Religion. " The lecturer shall be appointed annually in the month of May, or as soon thereafter as can conveniently be done, by the persons who for the time being shall hold the offices of Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the Diocese in which is the Church of the Holy Trinity ; the Rector of said Church ; the Pro- fessor of Biblical Learning, the Professor of Systematic Divinity, and the Pro- fessor of Ecclesiastical History, in the Divinity School of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. " In case either of said offices are vacant, the others may nominate the lec- turer." Under this trust the Reverend A. V. G. Allen, D. D., Professor in the Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, was appointed to deliver the lectures for the year 1883. Philadelphia, Easter, 1883. iEterna Sapientia, sese in omnibus rebus, maxime in humana mente, omnium maximb in Christu Jesu manifestavit. PEEFACE. This treatise owes its shape to the circumstance of its having been written as a course of lectures which were delivered in Philadelphia on the foun- dation of the late John Bohlen. The lectures be- ing six in number required what may seem a some- what artificial division of the subject-matter. But the grouping of topics, which I was in consequence constrained to make, will not, I think, be found an unnatural one. The lectures have been as carefully revised as my engagements would allow ; they are published substantially as they were spoken, with the exception of several portions omitted in the delivery for the sake of brevity. It is too much to hope that, in a treatise like this which criticises so freely the various phases of relig- ious belief in their historical development, I may not be regarded as having written for a controversial end against opinions as they are still held to-day. I should like, however, to disclaim such an intention. I have tried to deal with the subject after the historical method. My main endeavor has been to show that a purpose runs through the whole history of Christian thought, despite the apparent confusion which is to viii PREFACE. many its predominant characteristic. I have not writ- ten as if the history of theology were a panorama of dissolving views. It is the record of a development moving onward, in accordance with a divine law, to some remoter consummation. It is because such a law is being divinely revealed to us that we are able to recognize the place which we occupy in history. I am afraid it may seem to some as if I had under- taken too large a task for the compass of one small volume. It would have been much easier to have ex- panded than it has been to condense. I regret that time has not allowed me to condense more than I have done. A history of religious thought, it must be remembered, deals only with a few fundamental principles easily traced, to which all our differences in opinion can be referred. I have sought to confine myself to the immediate task which I proposed to pursue ; namely, to follow the course of Christian thought. It has not been possible, however, to avoid the contiguous depart- ments of Christian life, or the history of the church as an institution. They are often so closely con- nected with Christian thought, that to separate them is as impossible as it is undesirable. Some may feel that sufficient prominence has not been given to names which have long been held in honor by the church. I confess it has not been always easy to decide upon the relative degree of importance to be assigned to individuals, so far as their influence upon Christian thought is concerned. But as it has PREFACE. ix not been my object to merely chronicle the opinions of every one entitled to a place in the history of theology, I have dwelt only upon those names that mark changes or transitions in its progress, and have been content to pass over others, however great their prominence or usefulness in the institutional life of the church or as saintly examples of Christian char- acter. I should like to say, however, that if I were revising my book I should try to enforce more than I have done the importance of the work of Origen. He was a true specimen of a great theologian, the study of whose life is of special value to-day, as a corrective against that tendency to underrate dogma in our reaction from outgrown dogmas, or the dispo- sition to treat the feelings and instincts of our na- ture as if they were a final refuge from the reason, instead of a means to a larger use of the reason, — a process which, it is to be feared, in many is closely allied in its spirit with the temper which leads men to seek shelter in an infallible church. Because I believe that the history of theology is of the most absorbing interest as well as of the highest importance, that it concerns those called the laity as well as the clergy, I have sought to divest the sub- ject, as far as I could, from the unnecessary techni- calities of theological language, whose use often serves only to conceal thought or to deaden its activity. I wish that I might have devoted more attention to the course of philosophical speculation in its relations to theology. But while the connection is a close and X PRE FA CE. important one, it also involves issues which have not been yet determined. I have therefore alluded to philosophy when its connection with Christian thought could not be avoided, and for the rest have passed it reluctantly by. I have not felt it necessary to fortify every state- ment by the quotation of authorities in foot-notes, or even by references to them, since, for the most part, I have been traveling over ground which has been rendered familiar to the students of theology by the labors of many eminent historical scholars. In those cases where I have done so, it has been in order to assist the general reader, who may not be acquainted with theological literature. Much has passed from the minds of others into my own thought which it would be no longer possible to trace. Those who are acquainted with the work of a teacher will know how easy it is to appropriate and use ideas till, by force of repetition, they become inseparable from one's own. In this way I have used Neander and Baur, Maurice and Dorner, till it has almost seemed unnecessary to render them the tribute of indebted- ness. To my colleague, Professor Steenstra, I wish to acknowledge my obligation for criticisms and sugges- tions while the work has been going through the press ; but he is not in any way responsible for the opinions it expresses. Cambridge, August 24, 1884. TABLE OF CONTENTS. i. THE GREEK THEOLOGY. The secrecy which attends the transition from the age of the apostles to the age of the early Christian fathers. — Suggestiveness of the fragments of the post-apostolic age when viewed in the light of later histoiy. — Clement of Rome, the Pastor of Hennas, Papias, the " Epistle to Diogne- tus," the recently discovered "Teaching of the Twelve Apostles." — Ig- natius. — The Epistle to Diognetus serves as an introduction to Greek the- ology. — The Christian principle according to the mind of its unknown author. — The evidence of the incarnation. — Revelation as commending itself to the spiritual consciousness of man. — Importance assigned to knowledge. — The nature of Christian worship. — Ridicule of Jewish super- stitions and usages. — Idea of the catholicity of the church. — The church emerges into the clear light of history by the time of Justin (a. d. 166). — In the account of his conversion we have a picture of the world in his age. — Phases of his intellectual career. — His residence in Rome and its in- fluence upon his thought. — How he differed from other teachers of Chris- tianity in the Latin Church by the importance he attached to philosophy. — In this respect he represents the first great intellectual issue that divided the ancient church. — He maintains the continuity between the higher forms of paganism and Christianity. — Christ the divine reason which is universally diffused. — Influence of the Stoic philosophy traced in his con- ception of Christ. — But he was also influenced by Platonism. — Explana- tion of the return to Plato in the second century. — Traces in Justin of the conflict of thought which finally ripened into the trinitarian contro- versy. — His opinions on other points betray a legal tendency of Latin or Jewish origin. — Christian theology the fruit of the Greek genius. — Its birth in Alexandria — Intellectual freedom of the age. — Resemblance of the second century to the nineteenth. — Confusion of thought and the search after a principle of unity. — The complexity of the problem which Greek theology was called upon to solve. — Value to it of its close contact with heathen thought. — The heresies arose in Alexandria, but it was there also that they were met. — Greek theology resisted successfully the orien- tal tendency. — Clement of Alexandria. — What is known of his life. — He vindicated the alliance between Greek philosophy and Christianity. — Tendency in the age to divorce God from the world. — The cause which xii TABLE OF CONTENTS. underlay this tendency. — Affinities between Plato's thought and Bud- dhism. — The course of Greek philosophy after Plato. — Influence of Sto- icism. — Why it failed to satisfy. — Clement is mainly concerned in en- forcing the immanence of God. — He does not indulge in speculations about the mode of the divine existence. — Christ is God indwelling in the world. — Evidence of the connection between the man Jesus and the Deity incarnate in Him. — Organic relation of the incarnation to the course of human history. — Revelation takes place through the reason. — The image of God in man, the fundamental point in Clement's anthropology. — He knows nothing of the doctrine of the fall of man in Adam. — Ignorance the source of sin. — Revelation as light, the remedy of sin. — The educa- tion of the human race under the tuition of indwelling Deity. — What the idea of such an education implies as to the nature of man. — The function of fear in religion. — The methods of the Divine Instructor. — The nature of the judgment. — The object of punishment. — How Clement met the heresies of the age. — Marcion, the Ebionites, other forms of Gnosticism, the oriental principle. — The doctrine of sacrificial expiation for sin finds no place in his system. — The nature of redemption. — The incarnation in itself the true atonement with God. — The nature of faith. — Its relation to reason. — Clement's use of Scripture. — Idea of inspiration. — Relation toward the principle of heresy in general. — Definition of the church. — The sacraments and rites of worship. — The nature of sacrifice. — Oppo- sition to asceticism. — The principle on which it was resisted. — The future life and the "last things." — The ideas of a second personal coming of Christ in the flesh and the millennium irrational. — Rejection of the material notions about the resurrection. — Life in the future world a progressive de- velopment. — The love of God must eventually vindicate its power in a universal triumph over sin. — Why the theology of Clement has been pre- sented at length. — His relation to those that came after him. — His influ- ence upon his age. — His name stricken from the calendar of Saints in the Roman Catholic church r.bout the beginning of the seventeenth century. — Clement succeeded by Origen. — Why he should have been identified more prominently than Clement with Greek theology. — His divergence from Clement. — Influence upon him of Neo-Platonism. — His primary aim as a Christian philosopher. — Significance of his doctrine of the "Eternal Generation of the Son." — How his thought needed to be supplemented. — Divergent directions of thought after his death. — Athanasius. — Esti- mate of his greatness. — His Greek culture. — His treatises "Against the Greeks," and "The Incarnation of the Word." — Method of argument against polytheism. — The divine immanence makes a multiplicity of lower gods unnecessary. — God indwells in the world through the Logos. — God to be known by looking within the soul. — Revelation a disclosure of man's true nature. — Freedom of the will an inalienable heritage. — Sol- idarity of the human race in Christ. — Defense of the incarnation on the principles of Stoic philosophy. — Identification of the historical Christ with the "Word made flesh." — The church's life the best evidence of the resurrection of Christ. — Appearance of Arius. — His precursors. — His training at Antioch. where the tendency was to separate the human from the divine. — Impossibility of the incarnation from such a point of TABLE OF CONTENTS. xiii view. — The times favorable to Anus. — His conception of God as tran- scendent Deity apart from the world. — His idea of Christ and of the nature of revelation. — The gulf between God and the world. — Arianism a reversion to Jewish deism. — Inferiority to Mohammedanism. — Ex- citement attending the teaching of Arius. — Athanasius' defense of the incarnation and the Christian doctrine of the trinity. — Reason for the hesitation of the church in accepting it. — The doctrine of the trinity the fulfillment of what was true in Greek philosophy. — The doctrine of the Holy Spirit in Greek theology Pages 23-94 II. THE LATIN THEOLOGY. The relationship between Christian and Pagan Rome. — The revival of Roman heathenism. — The Roman genius for government and law mani- fested its influence in the conception of the church. — First sketches of ecclesiastical polity. — The Clementine Recognitions. — The ideal of Igna- tius. — The Roman Christians see no incongruity in having a head for the church at large. — The Latin church and not the Greek cultivated the study of ecclesiastical government. — The character of this development inferred from the Montanist reaction. — Relation of the Montanist doc- trine of the Holy Spirit to the ecclesiastical ambition of Roman Chris- tians. — Cyprian, about the middle of the third century, first enunci- ates the theory of "Apostolical Succession." — Criticism of the theory. — The motives which inspired the groAvth of the Latin church. — Resist- ance to heresy. — Gnosticism the typical heresy. — The "Apostles' Creed " a protest against Gnosticism. — Why the Greeks were not alarmed by heresy as were the Latins. — Irenoeus asserts the tradition of the Roman church as the best safeguard against heresy. — The same line of reason- ing adopted by Tertullian in his "Prescription of Heretics." — Bishops the guardians of the faith. — Salvation interpreted by the Latin church as escape from endless punishment. — How Tertullian presented this motive to the heathens. — Cyprian's "Address to Demetrian." — First emphatic an- nouncement by him of this life as the only probation. — Superstitious elements creeping into the cultus of the church. — The relation of the con- troversies about the baptism of heretics, and the restoration of apostates, to the Latin idea of the church. — Influence of Constantino's policy upon the church as an institution. — Why the Latins upheld so strenuously the doctrinal decision of Nicaea. — Rapid growth of the church in the fourth and fifth centuries not accompanied by a corresponding moral improve- ment.— Relation of this fact to Christian theology. — The decline of the old civilization as affecting intellectual activity. — Rise of a new school in theology at Antioch. — Significance of the long controversy about the re- lations of the human and divine natures in Christ. — Decisions of general councils. — The historical and the spiritual Christ. —How the sentiment of the church decided the great issue, and its bearings upon later history.— The conversion of Augustine. — His early life, in its connection with this event. — He submits his reason to external authority. — His earlier the- xiv TABLE OF CONTENTS. ology reveals the influence of Greek thought. — The transition to Latin Christianity. —The authority of the church to teach the world asserted against the Manichseans. — The authority of the church to rule the world maintained against the Donatists. — The inner dogmatic principle which justifies the church's existence and its necessity to human salvation main- tained against Pelagius. — The doctrine of original sin in its ecclesiastical bearings— Its effect upon the view of baptism. — Opposition to Augus- tine from the East, from Rome, and by Vincent of Lerins. — Augustine's doctrine of "grace," a substitute for the personal Christ. — The doc- trine of endless punishment in the writings of Augustine, for the first time dogmatically affirmed. — The idea of purgatory a necessary inference from Augustine's attitude. — Its relation to the belief in an intermediate state. — The influence of Augustine upon the church of his own and later ages. — Why the Latin church was able to resist Mohammedan- ism Pages 97-172 III. THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. Summary of the differences between the Greek and Latin theologies. — They stand to each other in the relation of the higher to the lower. — Later history of Greek theology. — The pseudo-Dionysius. — Position of the Greek church in the present day. — Its possible future. — Mission of the Latin church to the new races. — Increasing reverence for the Bishop of Rome. — Gregory the Great. — The papacy not a usurpation. — Further development of the Latin idea of the church. — Characteristics of the early Middle Ages. — Analogy to Judaism. — Traces of Greek influence among the Irish-Scotch clergy, and in John Scotus Erigena. — Theological controversies in the ninth century. — Why the Latins preferred the filioque. — Relation of the adoptionist controversy to the humanity of Christ. — Discussion of transubstantiation. — Modification of the Augustinian doc- trine of election. — The Gottschalk controversy shows that the decrees of the church have been substituted for the decrees of God. — The change which came over the church and the age in consequence of the calamities of the ninth century. — How it affected the relation of the people to the church. — The cathedral as an expression of mediaeval religion. — Anselm. — Statement of his doctrine of atonement. — Why it represents an ad- vance in theological thought. — The notion of a ransom paid to Satan is su- perseded by it. — Meaning of the clause in the Creed, " He descended into hell." — Anselm's idea of atonement reflects the local influences of the Mid- dle Ages as well as the legal attitude of the Latin mind. — It falls short of the full teaching of Christ. — Its connection with the doctrine of indul- gences. — The object of Scholasticism to show that the traditional dogmas of the Latin church were in harmony with the reason. — Why such an effort could not be successful. — The fact that the church was not meeting the demands of the people in the twelfth century showed the deficiency in its theology. — Common characteristics of the heretical movements. — Ex- planation of the intellectual freedom of the twelfth centurv. — The revolt TABLE OF CONTENTS. XV of Abelard against Latin theology. — Comparison with Anselm. — Anomaly of the intellectual situation. — The significance of his work. — Signs of the approaching ecclesiastical reaction. — Condemnation of Abelard. — The church endeavors to subjugate the reason. — The means adopted for this end. — Value to the church of Peter the Lombard's '' Book of Sentences." — The work of Thomas Aquinas in reconciling reason with the dogmas of the Latin church. — Transition in Scholasticism from Plato to Aristotle. — Reasons why Platonism had fallen into discredit with the School-men. — Comparison between Plato and Aristotle. — The latter interpreted as stand- ing for conservatism. — Under the influence of Aquinas he became the standard for the reason. — Dangers from the devotion to Aristotle. — It predisposed to the stud}- of nature. — How nature had been regarded in the history of Latin thought. — Unconscious purpose which in this respect the Latin church had served. — Relation of the study of nature to ascet- icism. — Rise of the Mendicant orders coincides with the adoption of Aris- totle. — Theology of Aquinas. — Distinction between the kingdoms of nature and grace, and its application. — Aquinas first distinguishes be- tween natural and revealed religion. — He does not change the basis of Latin theology, but represents the church in the fullness of its splendor. — Criticism of Duns Scotus upon Aquinas. — He limits still further the range of the reason, but asserts the importance of the will. — Contradictions in his thought. — His work tends to magnify the importance of the church. — How Aquinas and Duns Scotus differ in their ideas regarding God. — The distinction a fundamental one and closely connected with the experience of life. — Duns Scotus more in harmony with the spirit of Latin Christianity. — Why the Jesuits have preferred Duns Scotus. — Significance of the modern attempt to revive the study of Aquinas .... Pages 175-237 IV. THEOLOGY IN THE AGE OF THE REFORMATION. Latin theology begins to decline after the thirteenth century. — Monas- ticism loses its vigor. — Scholasticism becomes skeptical. — The work of the papacy for Christendom had been accomplished. — Review of the mediaeval cultus in its positive aspects as contributing to the progress of humanity. — Relic and saint worship. — Ecclesiastical art. — Beneficial in- fluences of the papacy. — Monasticism represented the principle of indi- vidualism. — Value of nominalism in philosophy. — The growth of the national spirit and not Luther, the power that dismembered Christendom. — Development of the vernacular. — What the evangelical reformers and the mystics held in common. — The rise of preaching as a means of re- ligious culture. — Rejection of the principle of church authority. — The Bible as the charter of the church. — Wycliffe's translation of the Scrip- tures. — Revelation as contained in the Bible. — Historical source of mys- ticism. — Relation of the pseudo-Dionysius to Latin Christianity. — How the aim of Latin Christianity subordinated the mystic principle. — French mysticism in the twelfth century. — Superiority of the German mysticism of the fourteenth centurv. — Eckart and the doctrine of the divine im- xvi TABLE OF CONTENTS. manence. — Comparison of mysticism -with the aim of the evangelical re- formers. — German mysticism had a practical spirit. — Why it could not accomplish a reform. — Point at which Luther diverged from it. — The issue which the evangelical reformers had made clear to the world before Luther appeared. — Luther declares the supremacy of the conscience. — The Reformation no break in history. — Its object not merely to correct abuses. — The principle from which abuses sprang. — Luther's " Address to the German Nobility" the answer to Tertullian, Irenseus, Cyprian, and Augustine. — The church not identical with the hierarchy. — No difference in principle between priest and layman, or between religious and secular things. — Meaning of private judgment. — The doctrine of justification by faith. — Process involved in Luther's conversion. — Change in his concep- tion of God. — The assurance of faith. — Criticism of the phrase "justi- fication by faith." — Why the reformers would not add the word "works " to faith. — Luther not a scientific theologian. — His opinions on other sub- jects. — Melancthon's desire to regain the episcopate. — Confession and ab- solution. — Specimens of Luther's biblical criticisms. — Higher significance of the denial of human liberty by the reformers. — Difference between Luther and Zwingle. — God, with Zwingle, the indwelling life of the universe. — His view of the miraculous. — In what sense the Bible is the word of God. — Revelation in the heathen world. — Denial of the doctrine of original sin. — Salvability of the heathen. — Discussion with Luther on the eucharist. — The larger truth implied in Zwingle's denial of a special presence of Christ in the Lord's Supper. — His views of church and state. — His system not understood in his own age. — The French nationality of Calvin. — Change in the situation when he began his work. — Melancthon represents the desire for compromise. — Increasing confusion and disorder. — Calvin represents the demand for order and discipline. — His conception of the church in some of its aspects not essentially different from the Latin. — His view of the Bible and of revelation. — He rejects the idea of the divine immanence. — Doctrine of the fall and election. — Modification of Anselm's theory of atonement. — The present humiliation of Christ and His future glory. — Calvin's theology, an emphatic reassertion of the principles of Latin Christianity. — His idea of God as absolute and arbitrary will. — Separation between God and humanity. — Points in which his system differs from Latin theology. — The spirit of modern skepticism lurked beneath his assumptions Pages 241-304 V. CONFLICT OF THE TRADITIONAL THEOLOGY WITH RATIONALISM. Characteristics of the theology generally received in the seventeenth century. — Its better aspects as seen in Milton's "Paradise Lost," Bun- yan's " Pilgrim's Progress," the career of Cromwell. — Its latent skepticism revealed in Pascal. — Contrast of Pascal with George Herbert. — The life of the world apart from the church. — Roman church as compared with Protestantism. — Reappearance of mysticism, Arndt, Bohme, the Quietists, the Quakers, Molinos, the Pietists. — The struggle for civil and religious TABLE OF CONTENTS. xvii freedom. — Organizations of the Protestant churches. — The Reformation in the Church of England essentially a lay movement. — Retention in the English church of the old ecclesiastical order. — Theory of the church which underlay the English Reformation. — Theology of the Church of England. — Character and influence of the Liturgy. — How the ecclesias- tical order was essentially changed by the emancipation of the presbyter from unqualified subjection to the bishop. — Remark of Bishop Hampden. — Rise of Puritanism. — Significance of the controversy about church authority. — Original attitude of the Church of England against the Puri- tans. — Its change of attitude in the seventeenth century. — Revival of Latin theology under Archbishop Laud. — How it maybe interpreted. — Independents, Baptists, and Quakers. — Relation of these movements to civil and religious liberty. — Importance of the eighteenth century in the history of Christian thought. — Wiry the clew to the history is apt to be lost at this point. — The apparent retrogression in theology connected with the Catholic reaction led by the Jesuits. — Merit of Calvinism in resisting the reaction. — The authority of Scripture as the bulwark against Rome. — The Protestant position a strong one. — Preparation for the deistic movement. — Why the authority of reason was substituted for that of Scripture. — The Cambridge school of Platonists. — Significance of the importance attached to nature in the last century. — History of the tran- sition from the study of revealed theology to natural theology. — Meaning of the love for the miraculous. — Hindrance to the study of nature. — How nature was regarded by the mystics. — Influence of scientific discoveries upon the idea of God. — Definition of the religion of nature. — Disposition to subordinate to it revealed religion. — Toland opens the deistic contro- versy. — How the apologists thought natural religion needed to be sup- plemented. — Reply of Tindal in "Christianity as Old as the Creation." — Objections to natural religions, optimism, and pessimism. — Weakness of deism as a proposed substitute for Christianity. — The apologists main- tained that revelation is evidenced by miracles. — This position attacked by Collins, Woolston, and Middleton. — The larger question raised as to the nature of historical evidence. — How the deists regarded the subject. — Why the apologists won an easy victory. — Influence of deism in France and America. — German illuminism. — Vulgar rationalism. — The cause wi'iich explains the prevailing indifference or hostility to theology. — The Latin theology succumbed to the opposition of the reason ; the idea of God, the trinity, the atonement, endless punishment. — Criticism of the deistic movement. — The issue which it bequeathed to the nineteenth century Pages 307-369 VI. RENAISSANCE OF THEOLOGY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Principles of speculative thought anticipated in great popular move- ments. — The transition from the last century to our own age traced in the evangelical movement. — The idea of conversion. — Its influence upon modern Christianity. — Social or churchly character of the evangelical xviii TABLE OF CONTENTS. movement. — The principle which divided Wesley and Whitefield, and its manifestation in practical religious experience. — Defect of the evangel- ical movement. — Sehleiermacher the regenerator of theology. — His con- ception of religion. — Antecedent influences that moulded his thought; Moravianism, Spinoza, Greek philosophy, German illuminism, the phi- losophy of Schelling. the French Revolution. — His doctrine of the divine immanence. —The Person of Christ in the experience of the religious life. — Christ the manifestation of the glory of God. — Modification in the ideas of election and probation. — Revival of the truth that life is an education. — Definition of the supernatural, and its relation to the natural. — The application of this principle to Scripture. — Creates the modern method of Biblical criticism. — Progress in the history of revelation as seen in the Old Testament. — Effect of this principle when applied to the New Testament. — The religious consciousness and the Christian consciousness. — Reve- lation in the history of the church. — Importance of the idea of the church. — The extent of Schleiermacher's influence. — He legitimates mysticism in the church. — Mysticism the Latin name for the Greek theology. —The 'negations of Sehleiermacher those of Greek theology. — The modification in the idea of God as seen in Goethe, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley, in modern art and modern science. — The ecclesiastical reaction. — Inability to apprehend the larger idea of revelation. — Revival of a belief in the church's sanctity as distinct from the state. — Distrust of the democratic tendencies of the French Revolution. — John Henry Newman leads the reaction in England. — The principles which he avowed. — Return to the Latin basis in theology. — Comparison of Pusey with Maurice. — The idea of the spiritual life as held by the Tractarians. — The theory of the church. — Their misapprehension of historical continuity. — The working of their principles modified by the tendencies of the age. — "Weakness of the Trac- tarian movement. — The principle of agnosticism avowed by Mansel. — The ecclesiastical reaction has not succeeded in checking the activity of the reason. — Its beneficial effects. — Definition of a reaction. — The intel- lectual confusion of the age. — Weakness in the modern attitude toward theology. — The deficiency in Sehleiermacher. — Relation of the feelings to the reason. — Comparison of Sehleiermacher with Clement of Alexan- dria. — In what respects the resemblance consists between the modern age and the Nicene period of the ancient church. — Relation of Origen and Athanasius to Clement of Alexandria. — Hegel the successor of Sehleier- macher. — The principle for which he stands. — Coleridge and Maurice agree with Hegel in this respect, and not with Sehleiermacher. — Signifi- cance of the attack of Strauss upon historical Christianity. — Why such a tendency as he represented was to have been expected. — The conditions of the problem which he has raised. — How the antagonism is to be recon- ciled. —Conclusion Pages 373-438 CONTINUITY OF CHRISTIAN THOUGHT. INTRODUCTION. The traditional conception of God which has come down to us from the Middle Ages through the Latin church is undergoing a profound transformation. The idea that God is transcendent, not only exalted above the world by His moral perfection, but separated from it by the infinite reaches of space, is yielding to the idea of Deity as immanent in His creation. A change so fundamental involves other changes of mo- mentous importance in every department of human thought, and more especially in Christian theology. The epithets applied to God, such as absolute and in- finite, have a different significance when applied to Deity indwelling within the universe. When we no longer localize Him as a physical essence in the in- finite remoteness, it is easier to regard Him as eth- ical in His inmost being ; righteousness becomes more readily the primary element in our conception of His essential nature. There is no theological doctrine which does not undergo a change in consequence of the change in our thought about God. Creation and revelation, the relation between God and humanity, the incarnation and the things which concern our final destiny, are lifted into a higher sphere and re- ceive a deeper, a more comprehensive and more spir- itual meaning. 2 INTRODUCTION. The object of the following treatise is to present the outlines of that early Christian theology which was formulated by thinkers in whose minds the divine immanence was the underlying thought in their con- sciousness of God. The Greek fathers, from the second to the fifth centuries, could not escape, even had they been inclined to do so, from the influence of a philos- ophy like the Stoic, so entirely in accordance with the well-known tendencies of Hellenic life and culture, and which existed for five hundred years, as the genuine expression of the Greek mind before it was overcome by other forms of theosophical speculation. Although from the second century a retrogressive movement toward Platonism was gaining strength, as seen in Justin and more especially in Origen, yet it was im- possible for Christian thinkers, even so late as the age of Constantine, to emancipate their minds from the subtle spell of that philosophy whose distinguish- ing feature was the belief that God indwelt in the universe and in the life of man. Such an influence was as inevitable as that of scholasticism upon the reformers of the sixteenth century, or of Calvin upon some modern thinkers, who congratulate themselves on having abandoned his system while still adhering to what was fundamental in his method. But the Greek theologians did not stand in an attitude of revolt or alienation from Hellenic philosophy and culture. They knew its value in their own experience, and held it to be a divine gift to the Greek people, — a divinely or- dered course of preparation for the " fullness of time." From the alliance of Greek philosophy with Christian thought arose the Greek theology, whose characteris- tics are a genuine catholicity, spiritual depth and free- dom, a marked rationality, and a lofty ethical tone by INTRODUCTION. 3 which it is pervaded throughout. For a time its in- fluence was felt and acknowledged in the West, as is seen in the writings of Irenaeus, Hippolytus, Minucius Felix, and to a limited extent even in Tertullian. But the East and West- began to grow apart after the time of Constantine, and the first foundations of the later schism between the Greek and Latin churches were already laid, when there arose in the West, under the influence of Augustine, a peculiar theology with which the Greek mind could have no sympathy, whose fun- damental tenets it regarded with aversion. The Augustinian theology rests upon the transcend- ence of Deity as its controlling principle, and at every point appears as an inferior rendering of the earlier in- terpretation of the Christian faith. Augustine is the most illustrious representative in history of a process very familiar to our own age, by which men of con- siderable intellectual activity, wearied with the ques- tionings and skepticisms which they cannot resolve, fall back upon external authority as the only mode of silencing the reason and satisfying the conscience. Like the modern Brown son, he had swung round the circle of theories and systems in which his age abounded, without finding relief ; like Mallock, he was painfully impressed with the moral skepticism concealed beneath the superficial appearance of or- dinary life ; and, like Newman, he possessed an unri- valed skill in dialectic, which he employed in defense of the system which he had chosen to identify with the Christian faith. His conversion took place at Milan, where he was struck by the external power and splen- dor of the church under its majestic administration by Ambrose ; he received, on assent, the Christianity of the time, and included in it the popular notions and 4 INTRODUCTION. teDdencies which were current in the church, as part of the divine revelation. After he became Bishop of Hippo, and especially after his entanglement in the Donatist and Pelagian controversies, he stood forth as the type of the ecclesiastic in all later ages : like New- man after his perversion, there was nothing so obnox- ious or irrational that he could not make it plausible to the reason ; that which seemed to be useful or desir- able for maintaining the control and ascendency of the church was stamped to his mind with the signet of the truth. The needs of ecclesiastical policy became the standard by which to test the validity of Christian belief. The Augustinian theology made possible the rise of the papacy. 1 Leo the Great, in the generation after Augustine, put forth the claim for the authority of the Roman see which was never afterward relaxed, and which saw its realization in the imperial authority over Christendom of Hildebrand and Innocent III. Au- gustinianism and the papacy owe their appearance to an age when free inquiry and intellectual activity were struck with decline, when the reign of barbarism was 1 How the work of Augustine contributed to the development of the papacy is clearly shown by Geffcken, Staat und Kirche, in ihrem Verhaltniss geschichtlich entwickelt, pp. 95-98. The " City of God " is a prophetic anticipation of the church of the Middle Ages. In Geffcken's words : " Er stellt Natur, Individualit'at, Familie, Nationality, Staat als etwas verhaltnissmassig Gleich- gultiges hin und ordnet alles der sichtbaren, allgemeinen Kirche unter ausserhalb deren es kein Heil giebt, er stellt die Autorit'at ihrer Tradition neben die der Schrift, behauptet den sacramen- talen Character der Ordination und des Priesterstandes. Und wenn er die Vertretung der Kirche nooji in die Aristokratie der Bischofe setzt, so war es, nachdem einmal ein gesonderter Stand der Leviten hingestellt war, nur ein Schritt, diesen auch einen Ho- hepriester als einheitlichen Mittelpunkt der Kirche zu geben." INTRODUCTION. 5 about to begin. Under such circumstances we may see in both alike a providential adaptation of Christian- ity to a lower environment. They did not grow out of the Christian idea as its necessary development, but were rather retrograde forms under which the Chris- tian principle might still be operative, though in greatly diminished degree. One need not speak of the papacy as a usurpation : it was a dispensation di- vinely appointed for the races of Europe ; a school- master, like the Jewish theocracy which it so closely resembled, to bring them to Christ. But the same di- vine hand which is revealed in its rise and its fortunes is revealed also in the process which led to its over- throw and rejection. The Augustinian theology had subserved a temporary purpose, and began to wane with the papacy when the human mind once more re- gained its freedom. So far as both yet linger in the modern world, it is an evidence that there are those who still need, or think they need, a religion based upon external authority, or a morality whose sanction is fear of the consequences of sin in the future world. The motive which lends interest and value to a study of the history of Latin theology in the Middle Ages, or in its later Protestant modifications, is to seek in its varied fortunes for that tendency to revert again to the true interpretation of the Christian faith, from which it was originally a falling away. The transitions of modern thought in regard to the nature of God and His relation to the world are in nowise abrupt or sud- den, or the result of a preparation to be found exclu- sively in our own time. It is of the highest impoiv tance to show, if it can be shown, that the preparation for the higher and fuller truth may be traced in the progress of thought during the Middle Ages as well as 6 INTRODUCTION. in the later Protestantism. For all onr thought con- cerning God has its foundation in the consciousness of man, — or rather, it is in and through the conscious- ness that the divine revelation is made, — and there- fore, among those in every age who have set themselves seriously to find out God, we should expect some testi- mony, however feeble or overborne by contradictions, to the later and fuller utterance of the consciousness as it speaks in ourselves. There is scarcely a thinker in the whole range of Latin or Protestant theology who has not at moments given expression to a higher thought of Deity than that which underlies the formal theology, the ecclesiastical institutions, or the current modes of belief which command his adherence and ap- proval. It is Augustine who, at a certain stage in Ins career, could write : — " For God is diffused through all tilings. He saith Him- self by the Prophet, ' I fill heaven and earth,' and it is said unto Him in a certain psalm, ' Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from Thy presence ? If I as- cend up to heaven, Thou art there ; if I make my bed in hell, behold Thou art there ; ' because God is substantially dif- fused everywhere. God is not thus diffused through all things as though by diffusion of mass, so as to be half in one half of the world's body and half in the other, and thus en- tire in the whole ; but entire in heaven alone, and entire in earth alone, and entire in both heaven and earth, and com- prehended in no place, but everywhere entire in Himself. He is nowhere and everywhere." And again, speaking of the incarnation, it is Au- gustine who says : — " And though He is everywhere present to the inner eye when it is sound and clear, He condescended to make Him- self manifest to the outward eye of those whose inward sight INTRODUCTION. 7 is weak and dim. Not the?i in the sense of traversing space, but because he appeared to mortal men in the form of mor- tal flesh, He is said to have come to us. For He came to a place where He had always been, seeing that He was in the world and the world was made by Him." l Even Thomas Aquinas, when the exigencies of reason required it, could write : — " There have been some, as the Manichees, who said that spiritual and incorporeal things are subject to divine power, but visible and corporeal things are subject to the power of a contrary principle. Against these we must say that God is in all things by His power. There have been others again who, though they believed all things subject to divine power, still did not extend divine Providence down to the lower parts, concerning which it is said in Job, ' He walketh upon the hinges of heaven and considereth not our concerns.' And against these it is necessary to say, that God is in all things by His presence. There have been again others, who, though they said all things belonged to the Providence of God, still laid it down that all tilings are not created imme- diately by God, but that He immediately created the first, and these created others. And against them it is necessary to say that He is in all tilings by His essence." 2 Passages like these are gleams of a higher thought, flashing forth at exceptional moments, when the relig- ious heart speaks out or the reason forgets its tram- mels. But the formal theology, the ecclesiastical in- stitutions, which Augustine sanctioned for the ages that followed him, which Calvin renewed for the Prot- estant churches, are built upon the ruling principle that God is outside the world and not within ; that 1 Be Doc. Christ, i. c. 13. 2 Sum. Theol. Prima Pars, qu. viii. art. 3, quoted in Hamp- den's Bampton Lectures, p. 184. g INTRODUCTION. He is absolute Deity in the sense that His being would be complete without the creation or humanity or the Eternal Son. What is sometimes called " modern infidelity " is mainly, I had almost said exclusively, a protest against the theology based upon such a conception of God. It is not Christianity in itself which is to-day obnoxious to serious men, but a Latinized Christianity which the thought of the world has outgrown while it is still perpetuated in the formal attitude of the churches. The traditional doctrines concerning the nature and method of the divine revelation, the atonement, and the final destiny of man, are called in question, not because they are irrational in themselves, but because they no longer spring by an inward necessity from that changed conception of God which is consciously or unconsciously postulated by the mind. We often hear of a Catholic faith which is an older reality than any of the theologies which command the popular as- sent, but those who profess to hold it are too apt to identify the ancient creeds with their Latin inter- pretation. It is not till we get back into an earlier age, before Christianity was translated into its Latin idioms, that we can discern another interpretation of the Christian faith, — the religion of Christ as it ap- peared to men who were living and thinking under intellectual conditions more similar to our own than any intervening age has since exhibited. The ancient Greek theology, as it was developed from the second to the fourth century under the hand of great masters like Clement and Athanasius, differs at every point from Latin theology as it received its final impress from Augustine in the fifth century. I have attempted in the following pages to contrast INTRODUCTION. 9 the two theologies, and to trace the genesis of each to its ruling principle. In so doing, I am not presenting any novel view of the history of Christian thought. The distinction between the Greek and Latin theolo- gies has been made by every recent writer of any im- portance in the field of church history, among whom may be mentioned, as best known, Gieseler, Neander, Dorner, Bitsehl, Baur, Pressense, Kenan, Bunsen, Maurice, and Milman. Gieseler attached the highest importance to Greek theology, and saw in the the- ology of the Latin church, as it originated with Ter- tullian, a debased rendering of the spiritual truths of Christianity. The distinction also runs through the great work of Dorner on the " Person of Christ ; " it is significant that he finds neither in Augustine nor in Thomas Aquinas, the two most celebrated theologians of the Latin church, an adequate conception of the incarnation. Neander appreciated clearly the differ- ences between the two theologies, but was so averse to all that bore upon ecclesiastical organization that he has not traced the western theology to its genuine root ; nor does he see as clearly as Dorner, that the Augus- tinian doctrines of sin and grace implied a fundamen- tal departure from what was highest and most real in the earlier theology. Ritschl has devoted an elaborate treatise to the "Christian Doctrine of Justification and Reconcilia- tion," and begins his treatment of the subject with Anselm's theory of the atonement, as if the early church had been utterly silent upon so momentous a theme. While he admits that Greek theology stands upon a different niveau from Latin, and that to this cause, and not to political complications alone, was owing the schism between the Greek and Latin 10 INTRODUCTION. churches, he gives no intimation that the Greek the- ologians looked at redemption and reconciliation from a point of view distinctly their own, and would have been as averse to Anselm's doctrine of atonement as they were to Augustine's doctrine of original sin. 1 The value of Ritschl's discussion of the subject lies in his exhibition of the progress of thought among the think- ers who followed Anselm, till they approximate the leading principle of Greek theology, that the incarna- tion does not differ from the atonement as the means from the end, but that in the incarnation itself is man- ifested the reconciliation of man with God, and the actual redemption of humanity from its lost estate. But this conclusion Ritschl fails to draw. The mind of Baur was so preoccupied with the antithesis be- tween the Petrine and Pauline types of Christianity and their reconciliation in the Catholic church, that he has failed to read another and deeper antithesis in the history of ancient theology for whose reconcilia- tion the world is still waiting. It is because he sees 1 The late Rev. J. M. Neale, in the preface to his translation of the Eastern Liturgies, remarks that he finds no trace in them of the modern theory of the atonement, as it has been held in the Latin or Protestant churches, according to which the suffer- ings of Christ were an equicalent for human punishment. " For nearly twenty years," he says, " these and the other early litur- gies have been my daily study ; there are very few passages in them which I could not repeat by heart ; and scarcely any im- portant works on the subject which I have not read. I may therefore claim some little right to be heard with respect to them. And I say most unhesitatingly, that while I conceive that some passages in them might be tortured into a Calvinistic sense were sufficient ingenuity employed, no ingenuity can make any single clause even patient of the theory of equivalence. If that theory be true, the eucharistic teaching of every eastern liturgy is absolutely false." INTRODUCTION. . 11 in the Fourth Gospel only a product of Alexandrian thought in the second century, and not an original in- dependent tradition of the teaching of Christ, of equal antiquity and authority with the tradition given in the synoptical gospels, that he is inclined to disparage also the work of the earlier Alexandrian writers like Clem- ent and Origen, as if with the Fourth Gospel it was but a variation of the Gnostic heresy. 1 Apart from this defect, no one has thrown a keener light upon the condition of religious thought in the ancient church, or seen more clearly how great a departure from prim- itive Christianity was involved in the Augustinian dogma of original sin. 2 A formidable obstacle to the intelligent study of the Greek theology is the lingering hold of Augustine upon the modern mind. The tenets of the Bishop of Hippo have been for so many ages identified with divine revelation, that it requires an intellectual revo- lution in order to attain the freedom to interpret cor- rectly, not only the early Fathers of the church, but Scripture itself. As there has been a traditional in- terpretation of Scripture, so there has been a tradi- tional reading of the theologians before Augustine's 1 And yet Baur and others who deny the genuineness of the Fourth Gospel, recognize a finer and more elevated spiritual touch in its portraiture of Christ than in what they hold to be the only genuine tradition. " Le doux et profond langage du Christ gnostique, a desarme, conquis les plus severes critiques modernes. lis nient hautement l'historicite des recits du quat- rieme ICvangile, et plus encore celle des discours, mais ils en prennent si bien l'esprit, qu'ils l'opposent aux donnees les plus certaines des Evangiles judeo-chretiens, absolument comme s'ils avaient un Jean authentique." La Revolution Religieuse au Dix- neuvieme Siecle, par F. Huet, p 194. 2 Baur, Die ChristUche Kirche, ii. 163-181. 12 INTRODUCTION. time, by which they were all made to say about one and the same thing. The idea of a Catholic faith, supported by the unanimous consent of the Fathers, continues to perpetuate the error. A false conception of development has done much to confuse the study of ancient theology, by taking it for granted that because Augustine lived at a later time, he therefore built upon the same foundation with his predecessors and carried their work to a higher stage. Whatever the source from which it springs, there is one charge so often alleged against the Greek theology that it deserves a moment's notice. It is said that it was deficient in the doctrines of sin and grace. It is true that the Greek fathers did not accept the doctrine of original sin as propounded by Augus- tine, 1 with its correlated tenets of total depravity, the loss of the freedom of the will, the guilt of infants, predestination or reprobation by a divine decree, or the endlessness of future punishment. But it does not follow that their conception of sin was on this ac- count wanting in depth or adequacy. If the attitude of Augustine is to be taken as the standard of Chris- tian teaching upon the nature of sin, its origin and its consequences, then other religions, such as Mohammed- anism or Buddhism, would seem in these respects to have excelled Christianity. Compared with the few allusions to the future consequences of sin, and these of a somewhat general character, to be found in the New Testament, the Koran invokes on almost every page the horrors of an endless torment in definite language not to be misunderstood. If the nature of man is wholly corrupted by sin, as Augustine taught, 1 A summary of the Greek and Latin anthropologies is given in Shedd's History of Christian Doctrine, ii. pp. 42, 91. INTRODUCTION. 13 Buddhism rises to a clearer declaration of the same principle, when, running counter to life itself, it makes sin exist in all desire. If views like these constitute what some are pleased to call the backbone of theol- ogy, then the ancient Greek theology was indeed de- ficient, for it assigned the chief importance to the belief that man was made in God's image, and relied upon indwelling Deity to lead mankind from sin to righteousness. In the spirit of this earlier theology sin is regarded as a transgression of the law, not the law which is con- ceived as an arbitrary appointment of a will external to man, but the law written in his constitution, — the life and the truth of God imprinted on the human nature in order that it may become partaker of the divine nature. To this end the incarnation takes place,* that man may be delivered from the power of sin, and brought into harmony with that law which constitutes the life of God, in the obedience of which consists the real life of the creature. As obedience is life, so in disobedience is death. The design of God, as revealed in the ages that preceded the coming of Christ, was to teach mankind how sin brought forth death, in order that, in the light of the incarnation, might be discerned the meaning and the value of life. 1 It is said of the late Mr. Maurice, that being asked for the best treatise on the nature of sin, he replied, St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians ; or, in other w T ords, that method which most clearly presents Christ 1 This qualitative or ethical use of the words "life" and " death " is common to Clement, Origen, and Athanasius, and is in harmony with their use in the Fourth Gospel. It was, how- ever, objected to Mr. Maurice, by a distinguished controvcr>i;il- ist, that this use was non-natural. Cf. Mozley's Essay*, \> 1. ii., on Maurice's theology. 14 INTRODUCTION. in his spiritual exaltation is best fitted to reveal the nature, the extent, the enormity of sin. Such might have been the reply of Clement of Alexandria or of Athanasius, such surely was the method of Greek the- ology in the days of its vigor ; and even in its decline, it still remained true, in a formal way, to that which had been its ruling principle. The Greek church, it has been often remarked, had but one dogma, that of the incarnation, — a dogma, it should be remembered, resting primarily, not on the authority of a council, but on the reason or the Christian consciousness, — and with the evolution of this truth in its relation to God and to humanity, Greek thought and speculation were occupied for over four hundred years. In this truth lay involved all the issues of the Christian faith ; in its presence, other questions paled in importance; by its light were to be interpreted all tenets and opin- ions concerning man and his destiny. Hence the early fathers did not base their theology upon speculations regarding the origin of evil ; it was enough to know that the redemption of mankind was an accomplished fact, that humanity had been endowed through Christ in its own right with a recuperative power, which would enable it to struggle successfully against all that was contrary to its true nature. The sense of sin was not regarded as an experience generated in the soul apart from God, for there was a divine presence in the world and in human hearts whose mission it was to convince of sin and righteousness. There was no artificial division in human experience, according to which the sense of sin must first prevail and dominate in the consciousness before a man could receive the Saviour ; but the knowledge of Christ, and his recep- tion in the heart, became the power by which sin was INTR OD UC Tl ON. 15 increasingly revealed, and by which also it was over- come. It is unnecessary to add that all this was reversed in the Augustinian theology. Another conception of sin and of its remedy dates its rise in the church from his influence, and was maintained by the Latin church through the Middle Ages. The system of the confes- sional, with its penitential books, its penances, its priestly absolutions, and conveyancing of grace ; the distinction between mortal and venial sins, the morbid introspection, may seem to some minds to attach a deeper or more adequate significance to sin, but it is gained by a great sacrifice, — for it necessarily in- volves an inadequate conception of Christ and his re- demption. The objection to the Greek theology, that its view of sin is superficial or defective, is an old and familiar one, and it is suggestive to note how often it turns up in history when any teaching arises which contradicts the traditional methods of dealing with the problem of human evil. To the enemies of Christ, it appeared as though the Saviour himself was relaxing the bonds of moral order when He sat down to eat with publi- cans and sinners, or when He dismissed the woman who had sinned with no reproof, but with the gentle injunction, " Go and sin no more." It seemed to the hostile Judaism tracking the footsteps of St. Paul, as if his doctrine of justification by faith were not only deficient in its estimate of sin, but as if it put a pre- mium upon sin, —"Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound ? " It seemed to the heathen mind, judg- ing from Celsus' attack upon Christianity, that the doctrine of forgiveness was shallow and immoral ; that in order to overcome evil it must be held that for- 16 INTRODUCTION. giveness was impossible, and that every sin must reap its penalty according to irrevocable law. It seemed to the excited mind of Latin Christendom in the six- teenth century, as if the methods of Luther and Cal- vin, in dealing with sin, were of a nature to undo the sanctions of morality and to promote unbridled liber- tinism. It is not strange, therefore, that so time-hon- ored an objection, the embodiment of so conservative an instinct, should be alleged against the theology of the Greek fathers. When it is said that the Greek theology failed, not only in its conception of sin, but in its doctrine of grace, the remark implies a misapprehension of its spirit. The doctrine of grace, as a specific influence passing from God to the individual spirit through ex- ternal channels or in some arbitrary way, a grace ap- plied to the soul from without to recreate or strengthen the will apart from the natural action of the human faculties, a grace which might be forfeited and re- gained, which on occasions might be and was with- drawn, — of such a doctrine, which has played so large a part in the sacramental and Calvinistic theologies, it must be admitted the early Greek theology knew nothing. 1 The place occupied by grace in Latin the- 1 Cf. Wilson's Bampton Lectures (1851), The Communion of Saints, p. 302, for an analysis of the passages in the New Testa- ment in which the word grace occurs. Very few of them, the author infers, can be thought to have anj^ bearing on what are popularly known as the "doctrines of grace," or would give any support to such doctrines. " There is not one text in which the word occurs in any connection with either of the sacraments." It is a remark of Joubert's, Pensees, 35 : — " Les jansenistes font la grace une espece de quatrieme personne de la sainte Trinite. Saint Paul et Saint Augustin, trop etudies ou etudies uniquement, ont tout perdu si on ose le dire. Au lieu de grace, dites aide, se- INTRODUCTION. 17 ology is filled by the presence of a divine teacher, whose own eternal life, by contact with human souls, becomes the source of life, of all strength and growth ; the infinite indwelling Spirit, whose action is not ar- bitrary, but uniform as the laws of nature. The doc- trine of grace, as taught by Augustine, or as it has been held in mediaeval and Protestant theology, was the Latin substitute for that belief in the immanence of God in humanity, which had constituted the prin- ciple of Greek theology, and was giving way in the fifth century to another and lower conception of the relations of God to man. It may be said, that to revert to the theology of a distant age would be a retrogressive movement in re- ligious thought ; that we are to seek for some recon- struction in theology by the light of our own reason rather than under the guidance of the Nicene fathers. But such an attitude toward the past carries with it its own condemnation. The ground of hope and prog- ress in this recognition of a theology in the ancient church, higher than that which has hitherto prevailed in Christendom, is the attestation thus gained for the human consciousness as the ultimate source of author- cours, influence divine, celeste rosee: on s'entend alors. Ce mot est comme un talisman dont on peut briser le prestige et le male- fice en le traduisant: on en dissout le danger par l'analyse. Per- sonnifier les mots est un mal funeste en theologie." In Tyndale's translation of the New Testament, the attempt was made to break the mediaeval prestige of the word grace by rendering it "favor." Cf. St. Luke i. 28, where "Ave, gratia plena " of the Vulgate becomes, " Hail, thou that art highly fa- vored," etc. King James's translators retained in some places the old rendering, and in others followed Tyndale. The revised version follows the same usage. 2 18 INTRODUCTION. ity in religious truth. Were the present movement in theological thought emphatically new, had it never found substantial utterance in all these ages of Chris- tian history, one might well be inclined to suspect that it had no foundation in the nature of man. That which is new in theology cannot be true ; a proposition of which the converse holds equally good, that what is true cannot be new. A return to the theology of the ancient church does not mean the abandonment of the reason, or the shutting our eyes to the light which God especially vouchsafes to the later ages of the church. Our task to-day is not a mechanical reproduction of past thought, or a literal adherence to the forms in which it was cast. There were elements in the meth- ods of Greek theology which we cannot accept ; there was much which the early fathers saw imperfectly, or not at all. And yet, in spite of their defects, and the disadvantages under which they labored, the Greek theologians may be to us, what Plato and Aristotle have been to modern philosophical thought, — our emancipators from false conceptions, our guides to a more spiritual, more intellectual, more comprehensive interpretation of the Christian faith, than the church has known since the German races passed under the tutelage of the Roman bishops, and accepted a Latin- ized Christianity in place of the original divine reve- lation. In the words of a recent writer, 1 — " We have lost much of that rich splendor, that large- hearted fullness of power, which characterizes the great Greek masters of theology. We have suffered our faith for so long to accept the pinched and narrow limits of a most unapostolic divinity, that we can hardly persuade peo- 1 Rev. H. S. Holland, M. A., Logic and Life, with other Ser- mons, page vii. INTRODUCTIOX. 19 pie to recall how wide was the sweep of Christian thought in the first centuries, how largely it dealt with these deep problems of spiritual existence and development, which now once more impress upon us the seriousness of the issues amid which our souls are traveling. We have let people forget all that our creed has to say about the unity of all creation, or about the evolution of history, or about the universality of the divine action through the Word. We have lost the power of wielding the mighty language with which Athanasius expands the significance of creation and regeneration, of incarnation and sacrifice, and redemption and salvation and glory." After all, however, the question is not whether we shall return or ought to return to what is called the Nicene theology ; the fact is, that the return has al- ready begun. The tendencies of what we call modern religious thought have been reproducing the outlines of an elder theology, while we have been unconscious even of its existence. There is hardly a point on which there is to-day a disposition to diverge from the traditional theology, which has not been anticipated by the Greek fathers. None of the individual doctrines or tenets, which have so long been the objects of dis- like and animadversion to the modern theological mind, formed any constituent part of Greek theology. The tenets of original sin and total depravity, as expounded by Augustine, and received by the Prot- estant churches from the Latin church ; the guilt of infants, the absolute necessity of baptism in order to salvation, the denial of the freedom of the will, the doctrine of election, the idea of a schism in the di- vine nature which required a satisfaction to retribu- tive justice before love could grant forgiveness, the atonement as a principle of equivalence by which the 20 INTRODUCTION. sufferings of Christ were weighed in a balance against the endless sufferings of the race, the notion that revelation is confined within the book, guaranteed by the inspiration of the letter or by a line of priestly curators in apostolic descent, the necessity of miracles as the strongest evidences of the truth of a revealed religion, the doctrine of sacramental grace and priestly mediation, the idea of the church as identical with some particular form of ecclesiastical organization, — these and other tenets which have formed the gist of modern religious controversy find no place in the Greek theology, and are irreconcilable with its spirit. And, on the other hand, the doctrine of the incarna- tion, in the fullness and sublimity of its real import, — the essence of the Christian faith, from which other beliefs and convictions must spring, and with which they must correspond, — this truth is finding in mod- ern times a recognition and appreciation akin to that which it held in the theology of Athanasius. THE GREEK THEOLOGY. Deus erat in Christo mundum reconcilians sibi. — 2 Cor. v. 19. Erat lux vera, quae illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mun- dum. — St. John i. 9. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. B. C. 800. [c] The great age of Hebrew prophecy begins. 600. [c] The rise of Buddhism. 584. (?) Birth of Pythagoras. 469-400. Socrates. 430-348. Plato. 384-322. Aristotle. 340-264. Zeuo, founder of the Stoic school. A. D. 65. Seneca died. 70. Fall of Jerusalem. 89. Epictetus flourished. 115. (?) Martyrdom of Ignatius. 120. (?) Plutarch died. 150. [c] Celsus, Montanus, Marcion. 160-170. Pseudo-Clementine writings. 161-180. Marcus Aurelius, Emperor. 166. (?) Justin became a martyr. 185-254. Origen. 202. Irenasus died, Pantrenus died. 204-270. Plotinus. 220 Clement of Alexandria died. 243. Ammonius Saccas died. 250. [c] Sabellius. 260. Paul of Samosata. 274. Manichasism. 296-373. Athanasius. 318. Pise of Arianism. 325. Council of Nicsea. 326-379. Basil of Caesarea. 330-389. Gregory of Nazianzus. 400. [c] Gregory of Nyssa died. THE GREEK THEOLOGY. The transition from the age of the apostles to the age of the early Christian fathers is involved in the darkness and secrecy which seems to attend, as by a universal law, the beginning of all great movements in history. At the very moment when we are most anxious to follow the fortunes of the Christian church, we are thrown back upon conjecture and hypothesis. The period extending from the fall of Jerusalem (a. d. 70) to the middle of the second century, a period covering the lifetime of more than two genera- tions, is almost a blank so far as any positive knowl- edge can be drawn from the writers who have been designated the Apostolic Fathers. But we turn to them still with a curious interest, — these writers who might have told us so much, but who have told us so little. We can feel as w r e read them that we are watching in the early dawn of a great day, by whose cool, dim light are faintly outlined the characteristics of the church that is to be. In the Roman Clement's exhortations to humility, so significant as proceeding from the home of the later papacy, or in the military aspects which in his pages the ecclesiastical adminis- tration is assuming : in Iarnatius's reflection that the confession made by martyrdom would bring him into a more intimate relation to the Lord ; in the sombre mood of the Pastor of Hermas, where the tower which 24 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. represents the destinies of the church is seen rapidly nearing its completion ; in the fragments of Papias, who was storing up in his memory the oral traditions of an earlier age, under the feeling that " what was to be got from books was not so profitable to him as what came from the living and abiding voice ; " in the speculations of the unknown author of the "Epistle to Diognetus," as to the reason of Christ's late ap- pearance in the world, — in hints like these are seen the germs of the larger movements, whether of senti- ment, thought, or action, which mark the church when it emerges into the clearer light of history. While the fragments of this obscure period shed lit- tle or no light on the points about which ecclesiastical controversy has turned, — such, for example, as the nature of the church's government, 1 and her ritual usages, or the origin of the gospels and the authorship and purpose of the disputed books of the New Tes- tament, — we may still be thankful that they reveal as much as they do, that in them we may discern the tendencies operating from the beginning which are to color the history of the church in all coming time. Especially do they disclose to us how races were still preserving their national characteristics under the shelter of the common faith, how the peculiarities of 1 The recently discovered Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, which probably belongs to the same age, adds more definite infor- mation regarding Christian antiquities, as they are called, than any other of the writings attributed to the apostolic fathers. But into what confusion it plunges long established traditions re- specting the ministry and the sacraments ! If anything could excite suspicion as to its genuineness, it would be the abundant confirmation it yields to the conclusions of historical scholarship as to the origin of the church's order and the nature and admin- istration of the sacraments. EPISTLE TO DIOGNETUS. 25 inherited cultures were to modify the interpretation of the Christian principle. Clement of Rome writes as a genuine Roman, concerned with matters of adminis- tration and of subordination to authority. Ignatius, who may be taken as representing the Christian com- munities of Asia Minor, displays the traditional con- servative spirit, — the timidity and anxiety in the pres- ence of innovations, which continue to this day such prominent features of oriental Christendom. The writer of the beautiful epistle to Diognetus betrays by his style and thought the influence of Hellenic culture, and gives, as it were in epitome, the theology which was to be developed under the great masters of a later age, a Clement of Alexandria, an Origen, and an Athanasius. A brief survey of this epistle may serve as an intro- duction to the Greek theology. The date of its com- position cannot be definitely determined, but it is gen- erally admitted that its author lived very near to the time of the apostles. I. In the mind of this unknown author, the Christian principle is identical with what Plato had taught to be the highest aspiration of man, — the " free imitation of God." To love God is to be an imitator of his character, an imitation which is possible to man be- cause he is made in the divine image. He who as- sumes his neighbor's burdens, who is ready to commu- nicate to those who are deficient the blessings he has received, becomes in his turn, as it were, a God to those who receive his benefits, and truly follows that which is most characteristic of the nature of Deity. To such an one it is given to see God and to enter into 26 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. the mysteries of the divine nature. When Gocl would redeem the world from wickedness to the obedience of the faith, he does not send any servant or angel, or any ruler in the celestial hierarchies, however exalted his rank, but He comes who is the creator and fash- ioner of all things. The evidence of the incarnation of the eternal Wisdom in humanity is not sought for in miracles, but in the moral transformation exhibited in Christian lives, in the heroic endurance of persecu- tion, in the growth of the church, which no earthly power can hinder. Such a revelation commends itself to the spiritual consciousness of man. No allusion is made by the writer of this epistle to Jewish prophecies foretelling the advent of Christ ; he does not attempt to repro- duce the apostolic teaching, but he is occupied with grounding what he conceives to be the Christian idea in the inmost instincts of man ; he speaks of Christ in His spiritual being as established firmly by God in human hearts. In the imj)ortance assigned to knowl- edge he shows still further the influence of his Hel- lenic culture. It was not the tree of knowledge in the ancient paradise that proved destructive. The tree of life was planted close to the tree of knowledge, to in- dicate that there can be no life without knowledge, and that apart from knowledge life is insecure. Nothing is said by this writer regarding the nature of Christian worship except indirectly, by way of pro- test against the superstitions of the Jews. In these are included their sacrifices, their scruples concerning meats, their ideas of Sabbath observance, their no- tions about fasting and new moons and circumcision, all of which are spoken of as ridiculous and unworthy of notice. The use of seasons, some for festivities and JUSTIN MARTYR. 27 some for mourning, is no part of divine worship. But the mystery of the Christian cult us, it is said, cannot be learned from any mortal. The worship of the Christians, which distinguishes them from every people among whom they sojourn, is essentially a moral atti- tude toward God and toward man, — the love which is the fulfilling of the law. Hence, to sum up all in one word, " the Christians are in the world what the soul is in the body." They are diffused throughout all cities, in the world but not of it. As the soul is the princi- ple which holds the body together, so Christians hold together the world itself." In such an utterance as this may be traced the earliest and also the highest conception of the Catho- lic church, — the embodiment of humanity in its ideal aspect. Such a conviction of the absolute value and universal mission of the church, in the mind of a soli- tary thinker musing in the early dawn of Christian history, is a testimony that a new life has entered into humanity, which persecution cannot extinguish, and which is destined to overcome the world. When we reach the age of Justin, who became a martyr in the reign of Marcus Aurelius (a. d. 166), the church is beginning to emerge from its hidden ex- istence into the clear light of history. In the account of his conversion, we have a picture of the world of educated thought in the middle of the second century. The varieties and confusions of opinion are seen in contrast with the power of the new revelation slowly making its way to the conquest of the human intellect. Like Augustine, whom in other respects he also re- sembles, Justin had run through the different schools of heathen thought before finding that which his spirit craved. Beginning with Stoicism, he turned from it 28 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. to Aristotle ; lie then made a trial of Pythagoreanism, and had at last adopted the Platonic philosophy as the only adequate explanation of the problems of life, when he was once more unsettled by the presentation of the Christian faith, in which he reached the com- plete satisfaction of his being, of his intellectual as well as his moral nature. The nationality of Justin is unknown. After his conversion he passed much of his life in Rome, where he is said to have established a school for the philo- sophical explanation and defense of Christianity. But such an institution had little chance of success in the Eternal City, and it is not surprising to learn that the school ceased to exist after his death, having pro- duced one unfortunate disciple, Tatian, whose career did little credit to his master. As a theologian, Jus- tin must be regarded as a representative of that ten- dency which afterward gave birth to Latin theology. Through his familiarity with that phase of Christi- anity which prevailed at Rome where Jewish influence was especially active, he was led to adopt the current opinions of the church in Rome, to identify them with the Christian revelation, and to fall back for their de- fense upon the authority of the Jewish Scriptures. One can see from his mental history that he had a taste for philosophy rather than that high mental en- dowment which constitutes the genuine philosopher. His culture consisted in what he gained from this or that teacher, rather than in the attainment of the phil- osophic mind. But in one important respect Justin differs from those who followed him as teachers of Christianity in the Latin church, — he did not turn his back upon philosophy as an evil thing when he became a Chris- RELATION TO GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 29 tian. Tertullian and Irenaeus, and even Augustine in his later years, condemned philosophy as a source of danger and evil to the church, as the parent of all heresy. Justin on the other hand remained true to his old teachers. After his conversion he still continued to wear his philosopher's cloak, and maintained that Christianity was the only true philosophy. He recog- nized a continuity in his spiritual history. He had not accepted the gospel because he had found his pagan teachers to be false, — they were true, and had taught truly so far as they had conformed to that divine reason which is everywhere diffused throughout the world. 1 In this attitude of Justin toward Greek philosophy may be seen the first great theological issue which divided the ancient church. Justin represents the class of educated minds who had been led to Chris- tianity by another line of approach than that which lay through Jewish tradition, and who could not but maintain the continuity of their spiritual development. Although they had not been taught to believe, as had the Jewish Christians, in a Messiah foretold by Hebrew prophets, they saw behind them a long and glorious line of philosophers and teachers, through whose pre- paratory labors they had been enabled to enter into the heritage of the Christian faith. When Justin is obliged to meet the objection, that since Christ had been born only one hundred and fifty years before, all who lived previous to his advent were without the true light for the reason and the conscience, he rises at once to the idea of the spiritual essential Christ who is limited by no conditions of time or space. Christ is the Word of whom every race of men are par- takers. Those who have lived in a manner conformed 1 Apol.,\. c. 10. 30 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. to truth are Christians, even though they have been held as atheists. 1 Such were, among the Greeks, Socrates and Heraclitus and those who resembled them ; and among the barbarians, Abraham, Ananias, Azariah, Misael, Elias, and many others of whom it is superfluous to mention the deeds or recite the names. Of Socrates and others, he further remarks, that like the Christians they were persecuted because of their devotion to the truth. For Socrates had known Christ, 2 though but in part, for Christ was and is the divine reason which is universally diffused. In all this Justin was only expanding the utterance of St. John, " He was the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world." 3 Justin is the first writer among the ancient Fathers to assert the truth that God had revealed Himself to the heathen world as well as to the Jewish people, that He had done so not merely through some subordinate process in external nature, but through his Son, who is the divine reason in every man. In this compre- hensive idea of revelation is revealed the influence of the Stoic philosophy which was still potent in the spir- itual atmosphere of the age. The indwelling divine reason which Justin identifies with the Christ who in the fullness of time became manifest in the flesh, is no other than the immanent Deity of whom Seneca says that He is near to man, is with him and is in him, who not only comes near to men but comes into them, whose abiding presence in the soul alone makes good- ness possible. 4 1 Apol. t i. c. 46. 2 Apol, ii. c. 10. 3 Cf. Diet. Christian Antiquities, Art. Justinus, by Rev. H. S. Holland, M. A., for a discussion of the point, whether Justin was familiar with the Fourth Gospel. 4 Ep. ad Lucilium, 41, 73. INFLUENCE OF PLATO. 31 But there is also to be discerned in Justin's thought the influence of the Platonic philosophy, leading him to another and widely different conception of Deity. The treatise of Plato which seems to have most pow- erfully affected the religious thought of the second century was the "Timseus," which deals more directly with theology than the other dialogues. Here the Deity appears withdrawn from the world into a dis- tant heaven, distinct and separated from the creation, because of the evil with which matter is essentially connected. 1 Justin tells us that the Stoic idea of God was deficient in that it made Him responsible for the evil in the world by identifying Him too closely with the life underlying all phenomena. It was this sense of evil to which the conscience of Plato had become so sensitive, that was also operating upon the minds of thoughtful and earnest men in the second century, and was leading them to a renewed study of the Pla- tonic philosophy. The consciousness of sin was ban- ishing God from the universe ; and it was becoming a question whether the Christian consciousness of re- demption — the conviction that this world had been actually redeemed by Christ — was strong enough to reverse the tide of heathen thought, and to maintain its hold upon a God united to humanity in an organic indissoluble relationship. In the writings of Justin we find the first traces of the conflict between these two tendencies, — a conflict which went on for two centuries before the church acquiesced in the theology of Athanasius. Justin does little more than reveal the conditions of the great issue. On the one hand, in accordance with what he has received from Plato, he speaks of Deity 1 Cf. Jowett's Introduction to the Timceus, ii. p. 458. 32 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. as the unknown and the unknowable, the ineffable transcendent One, the absolute in the sense that He exists in His completeness and perfection apart from all relation to the world of finite being. But on the other hand his gaze is fixed in love and adoration on the immanent Deity revealed in Christ. He may be deficient, he undoubtedly was, when judged by the technical language of a later age, in his definition of the relation of Christ to the Father, but there can be no doubt in which direction his thought was traveling. The Christ whom he worshiped was the eternal Wis- dom become incarnate, the indwelling God by whom the worlds were fashioned, whose existence is recog- nized in human souls, who mingles with humanity " as the perfume with the flower, as the salt with the waters of the sea." It is unnecessary to allude here to the opinions on other subjects connected with the Christian faith, put forth by Justin as the orthodox teaching of the church. It may be said of them in passing, that they are for the most part in harmony with that theological ten- dency which was afterward more fully represented by Tertullian. It is vain to attempt to reconcile the contradictions in Justin's thought. Opposing cur- rents of influence met in his mind, and while he was in some respects the forerunner of the Greek theology, he leaned in his practical conception of Christianity to the Jewish legal attitude which saw in Christianity a new law, and in Christ a second law-giver, after the analogy of the Mosaic dispensation. His conception of Deity after the Platonic idea, as the absolute and the incomprehensible, prevented his rising to the knowledge of God as the father, or his grounding the revelation in the divine love, as the inmost essence of FREEDOM OF THOUGHT. 33 the being whom Christ revealed. But despite his contradictions and his failures, the genuine Christian feeling in Justin was never overcome. His writings remain as a monument to that earlier, purer t} r pe of Christianity, when priesthood and altar, temple and sacrifice, were regarded as having been abolished in Christ ; when as yet there was no observance of sacred seasons, for life was one perpetual Sabbath or day of rejoicing ; when fasting was not an outward obser- vance but an inward principle of restraint upon all evil. 1 II. Christian theology was the fruit of the Greek gen- ius, and had its origin in the Greek city of Alexan- dria. It was here, in the second and third centuries, that the most favorable conditions existed for the development of Christian thought. Not only was the Greek genius still at the height of its powers, but it had renewed its life on this foreign soil. Alexandria had become more thoroughly Greek than Athens in the days of its renown. For the first time in history thought was absolutely free. 2 No dominant religious conviction could hinder the freest inquiry, no fear of persecution repressed the utterance of obnoxious tenets. The limits of thought were as boundless as the flight of the human imagination. In such an at- mosphere it was inevitable that the hirgest hearing should be accorded to him who spoke most directly and powerfully to the heart, the conscience, and the reason of the age. In the presence of the truth, the oppositions of error tended ultimately to die away. 1 Dial cum Tn/ph., cc. 15, 21, 22, 117. 2 Cf. Renan, Conferences, p. 22. 34 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. This rare conjunction of intellectual freedom, and of the intellectual capacity to improve it, was not of long duration ; but before it vanished, to reappear again only when ages had rolled away, it had given birth to Christian theology. The Christian thinkers in Alex- andria, at that favored moment in the history of thought, gave the outlines of a theology which for spirituality and Catholicity could never be rivaled or even appreciated at its true value, till, in an age like our own, the same conditions which made its first appearance possible, should make its reproduction a necessity. The resemblance between the second century and the nineteenth has often been noted. The likeness is seen more esjDecially in this, that the conquests of Rome had brought the then existing world together, had compacted it and made it more easy of compre- hension, just as in recent times mechanical appliances in navigation and the quick communication of intelli- gence have again repeated the same result on a larger scale. The benefit of Roman conquests to later civ- ilization has been fully acknowledged in the results achieved by Roman jurisprudence. The necessity of enforcing one common method of legal procedure upon a variety of peoples, each with its own conception of justice and of its practical administration, gave rise to the comprehensive spirit of Roman law and the en- deavor to ground it in the nature of man. A similar necessity gave rise to similar efforts in the sphere of religious thought. If, on the one hand, the spectacle of so many religions dividing the allegiance of men created confusion and skepticism, on the other hand, there were those who sought to penetrate beneath the diversity to some underlying principle of unity, and DESIRE FOR UNITY. 35 by doing justice to all the elements of truth and spiritual thought wherever they might be found, at- tain the idea of a universal religion. Such an effort was made by Plutarch and other heathens who stand as the representatives of heathen faith in the midst of a prevailing skepticism. Such also was the role of some of the Gnostics, and at a later time of the Neo- Platonic philosophy. A similar duty devolved upon the Christian thinkers of Alexandria. They were forced, if they would address intelligently and success- fully the inquiring mind of heathenism, to do justice to the truth in all systems of thought, to interpret their aspirations after the eternal light, to emphasize the value and importance of the divine revelation given in Greek philosoplry, and always to keep prom- inently in view that feature of Christianity upon which rested its claim to be a universal religion. The city of Alexandria represented in miniature the world of that distant age. In some respects it was a city more cosmopolitan than any other in the empire, in comparison with which even Rome was provincial. In its population were included large numbers of Greeks and Jews, Orientals and Romans. It had also become one of the great centres of the Christian church. The combination of these different types of religious thought stimulated the speculative mind to the highest activity. There the Jews came under the influence of Greek philosophy ; the Greeks discerned in Judaism a moral force and directness in which heathenism was wanting. Each was impelled to the search after a universal principle in whose com- prehensive grasp might be realized the unity of all things human and divine. There was also felt the subtle contagion of oriental theosophy, with its dark 36 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. consciousness of sin and disorder in the world, with its dualism between God and some rival power for evil, to which the consciousness of sin, without the full light of redemption, has always and everywhere given birth. No doubt there was danger to the faith of Christian thinkers in such a situation. The problem was indeed a complex one which the Greek theology in Alexan- dria was given to solve. To maintain the divine im- manence, and yet not identify God with the world ; to combat Gnosticism and oriental tendencies, and yet not underrate the evil and heinousness of sin; to insist upon the divine love as the essence of Deity, and yet enforce the judgments and punishments of sin ; to as- sert the superiority of the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, and yet do justice to the divine reve- lation contained in Greek philosophy ; to combat Jew- ish deism as an unworthy conception of God, to resist the tendency to reduce Christianity to a ritual in imi- tation of the Jewish ceremonial law, and yet not fail to acknowledge in Jewish history the preparation for a higher truth ; to assert the importance of intellectual culture, and yet to recognize the power and value of simple faith, — such were the conditions under which Greek theology was developed. Complex and difficult as was the environment of the church in Alexandria, yet this close contact with hea- then thought in its various forms and its highest moods was necessary and unavoidable, if the Christian reve- lation was to be put to the severest test, if its essential principle was to be apprehended in its purity by the intellect as well as by the moral sentiment, if in a word Christianity was to make the conquest of the human reason. What the persecution of the church by the CONFLICT WITH HEATHENISM. 37 Roman state was to the simple lives of Christian peo- ple, developing a heroism which the world had never seen before, demonstrating' that no earthly force could subdue the power of faith, such also was the conflict in the intellectual sphere between heathen philosophers and Christian theologians. Christian thought, as pre- sented by Clement and Origen and Athanasius, over- came the polemics of their heathen antagonists, and brought forth into the clear light of the reason the principle which bound heaven and earth together, and formed the basis of a universal religion. Alexandria, it is true, generated some of the worst heresies that endangered the Christian faith, but it also produced a Catholic theology in which those heresies were met as they were nowhere else in the church. No other writer overcame the principle of Gnosticism so completely as Clement of Alexandria : when Celsus assaulted by ar- gument and by ridicule that which was most distinc- tively sacred in Christian belief, it was from Alexan- dria that the answer came ; when Arianism would have reduced Christianity to a form akin to heathen polytheism, it was Athanasius, the Bishop of Alexan- dria, who fought for the doctrine of the incarnation, and secured its triumph. Whatever may have been the deficiencies of Greek theology, it may be safely averred, that until its prog- ress was arrested by the mysterious decline which par- alyzed all intellectual activity and freedom, it did not succumb to the subtle spirit of heathenism, nor adopt unwittingly what was foreign to the Christian idea in Gnostic or Manichaean theosophies, nor was the principle of redemption neutralized by an oriental or Buddhist conception of human sinfulness, which di- vorced God from the world, and left humanity, in its 38 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. isolation and weakness, a prey to the encroachments of an ambitious priesthood. These were the evils which befell the church, more especially in the West, where intellectual culture had come to be disowned as having no connection with Christian faith, where rea- son was separated from feeling and piety, and philos- ophy was denounced as the parent of all evil. Clement of Alexandria may be called the father of Greek theology. 1 Of Pantsenus, his predecessor in the theological school, but little is known ; the important fact has been recorded, that he was an adherent of the Stoic philosophy, and Clement, who was his pupil, bears witness to the high value of his teaching. Very few details of the life of Clement have been preserved. The date of his birth may be fixed about the middle of the second century, while that of his death is un- known. The period of his greatest literary activity was when he presided over the school at Alexandria (a. d. 190-203), and when he must have been in the full maturity of his powers. As to his nationality, he was a Greek, possibly an Athenian, and his acquaint- ance with Greek philosophy and literature was thor- ough and extensive. The epithet " learned " belongs to him not merely in virtue of the courtesy which ex- tends it to all the Fathers of the church : apart from their theology, his works are valuable to the classical student for their numerous quotations from books no 1 Sketches of Clement's thought may be found in Pressense, Histoire des trois premiers siecles de Veglise, t. iii. — UHistoire da dogma ; Hitter, Die Ckristliche Philosophie, i. 300-310 ; Studien und Kritilcen, 1341; Bp. Kay e, Clement of A lexandria ; Freppel, Clement d'Alexandrie. A sympathetic study of Clement is con- tained in Neander, Ch. His., vols. ii. and iii., Bohn ed. CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA. 89 longer extant, and for the light they shed upon the manners and customs of the ancient world. He had traveled widely in search of knowledge, and after he became a Christian he studied the new religion under several masters before he came under the influence of Pantamus, and heard a presentation of Christian truth which commended itself to his reason. That which attracted him in Christianity was its lofty ethical teaching, and the fruits which it bore in the practical transformation of the life. In the character of Christ, not in miracles or prophecy, did he find the highest evidence of His divine mission to humanity. 1 We meet in Clement a more emphatic statement than in any other ancient father of the universality of the preparation in the Old World for the advent of Christ. As a Greek, it fell to him to vindicate the alliance between the Hellenic philosophy and the new religion. Such an alliance he does not regard as call- ing for an apology; it is a divine ordering of the world that Greek philosophy should have prepared the way for Christ, and to doubt that it did so would be to undermine belief in the possibility of a revelation, as well as to deny the providence of God. 2 Christian- ity, if the expression may be allowed, grew as directly out of Greek philosophy as out of Hebrew prophecy. The narrow conception that the only prophecy of Christ is to be found in Jewish anticipations of Mes- siah, belittles the subject of the divine dealings with humanity. The influence of Hellenic speculation in determining the true nature of the person of Christ is not a thing smuggled surreptitiously into the sphere of Christian thought, — an alien element, to be carefully 1 Cf. Bp. Kaye, Life and Writings of Clement of Alexandria, p. 3. 2 Strom., vi. 17. 40 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. eliminated, if we would understand the original revela- tion in its simplicity and purity. It enters into the divine process of preparation for the advent of Christ as a constituent factor ; it is essential to a right inter- pretation of the Christian idea in its widest and high- est application. What Clement asserted so eloquently as of vital im- portance to the understanding of the Christian faith, the Greek fathers who came after him accepted as an axiom without further discussion. The doctrines of the incarnation and the trinity, as developed by Ori- gen, by Athanasius, and the Cappadocians, especially Gregory of Nyssa, rest upon the alliance with Greek philosophy, securely and serenely. In later times, when a meagre, mechanical notion of divine revela- tion obscured the earlier apprehension of its univer- sality, the argument for the divinity of Christ's person came to rest almost exclusirely upon Hebrew prophe- cies which found in Him their fulfillment, — a method which reached its legitimate result in a return to the Jewish deism from which it had derived its inspiration. The following passages from Clement show how large and free was his conception of the methods of divine revelation : — " To the Jews belonged the Law, and to the Greeks Phi- losophy, until the Advent, and after that came the universal calling to be a peculiar people of righteousness through the teaching which flows from faith, brought together by one Lord, the only God of both Greeks and barbarians, or rather of the whole race of men." 1 " And in general terms we shall not err in alleging that all things necessary and profit- able for life came to us from God, and that philosophy more 1 Strom., vi. c. 17. The translation is that of the Ante-Nicene Library. REVELATION IN GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 41 especially was given to the Greeks as a covenant peculiar to them, being, as it is, a stepping-stone to the philosophy which is according to Christ." x "Should any one say that it was through human understanding that philosophy was discovered by the Greeks, I find the Scriptures saying that understanding is sent by God." 2 " God was the giver of Greek philosophy to the Greeks, by which the Almighty is glorified among the Greeks." 3 " The studies of philosophy therefore, and philosophy itself, are aids in treating of the truth." 4 " Before the advent of the Lord, philosophy was necessary to the Greeks for righteousness. And now it be- comes conducive to piety; being a kind of preparatory training to those who attain to faith through demonstration, — a schoolmaster to bring the Hellenic mind, as the law the Hebrews, to Christ." 5 " By reflection and direct vision those among the Greeks who have philosophized accurately see God." 6 "In the whole universe all the parts, though differing one from another, preserve their relation to the whole. So then the barbarian (Jewish) and Hellenic phi- losophy has torn off a fragment of eternal truth from the theology of the ever-living Word. And he who brings to- gether again the separate fragments and makes them one, will, without peril, contemplate the perfect Word, the truth." 7 In the second century Christianity was struggling against the tendency felt in all forms of religious and 1 Strom., vi. c. 8. 4 Strom., vi. c. 11. 2 Strom., vi. c. 8. 5 Strom., i. c. 5. 3 Strom., vi. c. 5. 6 Strom., i. c. 19. 7 Strom., i. c. 13. Clement often asserts that Greek philoso- phy had plagiarized from the Hebrew Scriptures. But ho takes this ground when trying to convince the Greeks, who boasted their philosophy to be sufficient, that the highest spiritual truth in Plato and others had been anticipated long before. There is no real contradiction in Clement's thought, however it may ap- pear as such in his language. His highest meaning is clear, that Greek philosophy contained a direct divine revelation. 42 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. philosophical thought, to banish Gocl from His crea- tion, — to maintain the divine transcendence at the expense of an absolute divorce between God and hu- manity. The tendency sprang from a growing con- sciousness of sin, a conscience quickened to the per- ception of good and evil. All interest in other lines of human research was disappearing, and philosophy began to be characterized by an ethical purpose in comparison with which all else was unimportant. It is perhaps the one most striking peculiarity of the religion of Christ, that it stimulates the keenest susceptibility to moral evil, and yet brings God close to humanity in an abiding eternal relationship. It does what no other religion has been able to do, — - it develops the consciousness of sin, and yet maintains the consciousness of an actu?d. redemption from sin. The most complete illustration of the gospel was given in one short sentence, when it was said of Christ that He sat down to eat with publicans and sinners, — a picture it may called of indwelling Deity in close contact and communion with humanity stricken with a sense of its debasement and guilt. And yet in the " fullness of time " when Christ ap- peared, the world was witnessing the mightiest transi- tion recorded in the spiritual life of man. The belief in immanent Deity was slowly yielding to the concep- tion of a God removed to an infinite distance from the world and from all human interests. Wherever we look in the second and third centuries, we may see the transition in process of accomplishment. To enter upon its full description is here impossible. It must suffice to allude briefly to the causes which initiated so vast a revolution, and to the most significant indi- cations of its progress, in order to get the key to the TRANSCENDENCE OF DEITY. 43 theology of the incarnation, as it was presented by the Greek fathers, before the world and the church had acquiesced in a change which was to alter the charac- ter of human civilization. The leading cause which underlies and modifies the conception of God is the action of the human con- science under the conviction of sin and guilt. It was in the ancient home of the Aryan races that the pri- meval idea of Deity received its profoundest modifica- tion in the reaction of Buddhism. In the Buddhist mind, the consciousness of evil was so supreme, as to almost rob the world of anything answering to the idea of God at all. That which took place in India was substantially repeated, not long after, in the pro- test of philosophy against Greek religion in the time of Socrates and Plato. The religion of ancient Greece resembled that of India in resting on a pantheistic basis, where God and man and the external world are hardly distinguishable from each other. It is not necessary that Plato should have felt the direct in- fluence of Buddhism, but it is certain that he was moved by kindred motives to those which had gener- ated it. In the " Timaeus " he pictures God as the passive Deity at an infinite distance in the heavens, unable to come into immediate contact with a world of which the very materials contain the conditions of evil. We may admire, as we study Plato, his high moral conception of the nature of God, while at the same time we discern in him how the quickened moral sense, when not enlightened by the Christian idea of redemption, perverts the true relationship between God and humanity. In the subsequent course of Greek philosophy may be read, as in a register of man's spiritual life, the 44 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. records of the variation of human thought as it studied the relation of God to the world. Plato did not willingly give up the world to absolute separa- tion from its Maker: he strove hard to overcome the schism which his own thought had created. But the tendency of his theory of ideas was to reduce the creation to a pale reflection of the divine glory, a poor substitute for that beautiful vision which had haunted the dreams of earlier Greek religion. Aristotle com- bated Plato in the interest of redeeming the external world from the unreality which it tended to assume in his master's thought. In the religious estimate of Greek philosophy, he may be said to have prepared the way for the Stoic school, which appeared in the third century before Christ. The Stoic philosophy returned to the idea of God from which Plato had de- parted, and conceived of Him as indwelling in the world, penetrating everywhere and filling it with His presence. The world was thought to sustain the same relation to God as the body to the spirit ; it was directed and controlled by an immanent life of whose beauty and glory outward nature is the direct mani- festation, while the human spirit in its moral capacity and attainments expressed the highest revelation of the actual presence of the divine. That such a sys- tem of philosophy as the Stoic should have prevailed till the second century after Christ, and on the eve of its decline should have given birth to three such men as Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, is a cir- cumstance, the importance of which it is hardly pos- sible to overestimate, when considering the influences which moulded the early teachers of Greek theology. But in the second century of the Christian era, the tendency of thought was back again to Plato. Sto- CLEMENTS IDEA OF GOD. 45 icism was failing" to satisfy the dark mood of an age in which the sense of sin was once more becoming the supreme motive underlying" all speculative thought. The world was no longer what it had been. The ho- rizon seemed dark and forbidding to those who sought to read the future destinies of mankind. They saw everywhere the presence of gigantic evils, and no power at work adequate to redress them. Even to many Christian thinkers it required too much faith to believe that the world as they saw it had been re- deemed. Hence the Gnostics reverted to Plato, with his idea of a distant passive Deity, and gave up the world to destruction, with the exception of a chosen few in whom kinship to God was sufficiently strong to enable them to secure salvation. Neo-Platonism had its forerunner in Plutarch (a. d. 120), who by one of the strange perversions which so often accom- pany the revival of an earlier thought, saw in Plato a principle for the renewal of the old mythology which Plato had done so much to bring into discredit. Such was the spirit of the age when Clement was aiming to commend Christianity to earnest and inquir- ing minds. That he was to some extent influenced by the current sentiments of his time it is sufficient to admit. We should be misled, however, as to his real meaning and purpose, if we sought only in his writings for his formal concurrence with prevailing ideas. Like Justin, he sometimes speaks of God as the absolute and the unknown, or even as the incomprehensible, whose life is sufficient in itself without the creation. But he has no real interest in concessions like these to the fashion of the age ; his higher utterances contra- dict and disprove them. He is mainly concerned in enforcing the immanence of God. Christ is every- 46 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. where presented by him as Deity indwelling in the world. The world is viewed as part of an organic whole, moving on to some exalted destiny in the har- mony of the divine order. Humanity has its life and beino* in Christ, to whom also it is constitutionally re- lated ; the whole human race, not any elect portion only, is included under the operation of grace as well as of law ; all human history is unified and consecrated by the visible traces of divine revelation- Less than any of the fathers is Clement tempted to indulge in speculations about the mode of the divine existence. He is concerned with realities, not with mere speculative opinions. He attempts no formal explanation of how Deity in His immanence is to be reconciled with the transcendent and unknown essence of God. But there is no qualification in his belief, that Christ is in the fullest sense God indwelling in the world and in humanity. Language seems poor and inadequate as he struggles with it in order to assert and illustrate the workings of the present God. Nor does Clement formally endeavor to demon- strate the connection between the historic personality of Jesus, and the Deity whom he held to have been incarnate in Him. This is the assumption which un- derlies his thought, that which he takes for granted, because, in his own exuberant faith, he feels no need of labored demonstration. But the connection, as it exists in his mind, may be clearly traced. He does not rely upon the display of omnipotent power, as seen in the miracles of the historic Christ, to confirm His divine character, but upon the life of the church of which He is the perennial source, in the transforma- tion which His name still works in human character, in the self-sacrifice which is the reproduction of His THE INDWELLING GOD. 47 example, in the boundless hope which has its spring in the love and devotion which He still continues to inspire, in the spiritual illumination of a soul who has acknowledged Him as its master. Since Christ is the indwelling God, His incarnation is not a thing new or strange, an abrupt break in the continuity of man's moral history ; it had not been decreed in the divine counsels, in order to avoid some impending catastrophe which suddenly confronted or threatened to disappoint the divine purpose ; it was not merely an historical incident by which He came into the world from a distance, and, having done His work, retired again from it. He was in the world be- fore Pie came in the flesh, and was preparing the world for His visible advent. As indwelling Deity, He was to a certain extent already universally incar- nated, as the light that lighteth every man, the light shining in the darkness, the light and life of men in every age. Hence the prophecies of his advent enter into the organic process of human history, and in the spiritual life of man may be read the foreshadowings of Him who was the crown and completion of human- ity, the fulfillment of the whole creation. Because Deity indwelt in humanity, and the human reason partook, by its very nature, of that which was divine, Clement was forced to see in the highest prod- ucts of the reason the fruit of divine revelation. He makes no distinction between natural and revealed re- ligion, between what man discovers and God reveals. All that is true and well said in Greek philosophy was as truly given by divine revelation, as was the moral truth proclaimed by Jewish legislators and prophets. The higher activities of human thought and reflection are only the process by which the revelation of truth 48 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. is conveyed to man, 1 and inspiration is the God-given insight which enables men to read aright the truth which God reveals. The doctrine of indwelling Deity — of the Logos, as constitutionally or organically related to the human soul — may be called the theological principle in the teaching of Clement. Closely connected with it, and indeed the necessary inference from it, is his doctrine of man as made in the divine image. No other writer in the ancient church has presented this truth with so much clearness, or so insisted upon its importance as the ground of faith in God or of hope for man. With Clement it is the point of departure in treating of sin and of redemption, — the key-note, it may be called, of his anthropology. 2 The image of God in man is a spiritual endowment of humanity which is capable of expressing the inmost essence or character of God, — it is a moral or spiritual image, containing, as it were, in the germ, the highest and divinest qualities as they exist in God. It is that in the Son, which comes from being begotten by the Father. Because man's spir- itual constitution is made after a divine type, it be- comes the law of his being to fulfill its possibilities, and to rise to the full resemblance to God. The image of God in every man constitutes the warrant for be- lieving that he may rise from the possibility into the actuality, that the image may develop into a living and speaking resemblance. It is because man is made in the divine image that his nature responds to the call of God, and his conscience reechoes the commandments of God. But the law of God, according to such a view, is not conceived as a code of external command- 1 Exhort, c. vi. ; Strom., i. c. 19 ; also, i. c. 5. 2 Exhort., c. x. ; c. xii. THE NATURE OF MAN. 49 ments, — it is a law written within the heart. Chris- tianity, as compared with Judaism, is the passing from the stage where the law is presented from without on external tables of stone, to that in which it is discerned as written within man's nature ; and when thus rec- ognized, the hard sense of duty gives place to willing aspiration, and the attainment of character is set over against the fulfillment of formal ordinances. Such is the spirit of the new covenant in Christ as St. Paul discerned it, as the prophet Jeremiah described it, in the transition hour of Jewish history : " Behold, saith the Lord, I will make a new covenant with them in those days : I will put my laws in their hearts, and in their minds will I write them, and their sins and in- iquities will I remember no more." Clement does not speculate on the nature or the origin of evil. He knows nothing of the later dogma of the fall of man in Adam, nor of Adam as the fed- eral representative of mankind ; nor does it seem as if such opinions would have commended themselves to his mind as explaining the nature or the source of human sinfulness. He sees, rather, in Christ the nor- mal man, the true head and centre of humanity ; and in treating of sin and its ravages, never lets go his hold on the truth that man is constituted after the di- vine image. Hence he regards the will as free to fol- low out the divine purpose which is the law of man's being. The freedom of the will, which Clement held in common with all the Greek fathers, was not a tem- porary expedient in their thought in order to meet the fatalism of Gnostic theories ; it was a necessary prin- ciple flowing from the importance assigned to the primary truth that man was created in the divine im- age. However much that image might have been 4 50 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. obscured by human sinfulness, it still existed witb its original endowment, and the work of Christ had con- sisted in revealing man to himself, in making known to him the divine constitution of his being, as well as in presenting the nature and character of God. The freedom of the will was not the freedom of a being independent of God or detached frcm Him, but rather allied to Him by his inmost constitution, and there- fore retaining the capacity, through all the vicissitudes of his career, of fulfilling his appointed destiny. 1 Like others of the Fathers who had come under the influence of Hellenic thought, Clement regarded ig- norance as the mother of sin, and finds in revelation, considered as light, the divine remedy. But he does not view ignorance as the only difficulty to be over- 1 It was not till Augustine had fallen back into the bondage of an essentially Gnostic or Manichsean fatalism, and accepted the principle of an arbitrary election common to all the Gnostic sys- tems, that he gave up the freedom of the will. His denial of freedom was, indeed, a consequence of his doctrine of election, but beneath this notion of election lay the idea which conditioned all Gnostic speculation, that humanity had become separated from God, and, in its independence and isolation, needed the aid of a power foreign to itself in order to its restoration ; or, in theolog- ical language, the image of God forfeited by Adam must be re- stored by an external creative act, as in baptism. A recent writer has remarked on the impressiveness of the fact that the Greeks were never embarrassed as were the Latins by questions relating to free will and necessity. The fact does not lose its impressiveness, though no longer difficult to understand, when it is remembered that the Greek theologians regarded the image of God in man as an inalienable possession, and therefore regarded God and man as bound together by an organic tie ; while the Latins regarded mankind as having, through the fall of Adam, lost its spiritual kinship to God, while yet remaining susceptible to an omnipotent influence capable of bearing down all finite opposition. Cf. Maine's Ancient Law, p. 342. THE EDUCATION OF THE HUMAN RACE. 51 come in the redemptive process ; there is also in man the inability to follow righteousness, which springs from the weakness or disinclination of the will. Ig- norance of the right, or the unwillingness to follow it, these are the two obstacles to be removed in order that man may rise to the free imitation of God, and share in that humanity which has been deified in Christ. The history of man's redemption from sin becomes, according to Clement's conception, the education of the human race, under the tuition of indwelling Deity. 1 The divine teacher, whom he has portrayed in his work called the " Instructor," is, he tells us with constant reiteration, no other than God Himself. One can imagine that he had in view, as he wrote it, the prophetic language of Plato : " We must wait for one, be it a God or a God-inspired man, who will teach us our religious duties, and take away the dark- ness from our eyes." But the reality, in Clement's view, surpassed the prophecy and the anticipation. Such a divine teacher had come in the flesh and dwelt amongst us in visible form ; but in his spiritual, his most real presence as the essential Christ, He re- mained here forever as the teacher of humanity ; nor had there been a time since the world began when He was not present to superintend the education of the race. It was He who spoke through Moses and the prophets, and it was He who spoke in Greek philoso- phy. In the progressive education of humanity, He even gave the sun and moon to be worshiped, in order that men might not be atheistical ; in order, also, that they might rise through the lower worship to something higher. 2 He is not the teacher of a few 1 Pcedag., i. c. 9. 2 Strom., vi. c. 14. 52 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. only, in some favored time or place, but He comes to all, at all times and everywhere. He is the Saviour of all, for all men are His ; " some with the conscious- ness of what He is to them, others not as yet ; some as friends, others as faithful servants ; others barely as servants." 1 As their teacher, He educates the enlightened by the inward intuition of truth, the believers by good hopes, and those who are hard of heart by corrective discipline through operations that can be felt. The idea of life as essentially an education under the guidance of immanent Deity implies a divine con- stitution in man formed to receive the divine teaching. The idea of education involves capacity and ability in the pupil, and also an innate disposition to receive and follow instruction. To educate is to educe and de- velop the powers already implanted in the soul. The teaching of the divine Instructor follows the analogy of human methods, — it appeals to, it evokes and strengthens, the divine that is in man, those instincts of the soul which yearn after all that is true or beau- tiful or good. The gracious and benign Instructor of humanity possesses unwearied patience, and in accom- plishing His task has at His disposal all the resources of God. His methods vary with the need of the pupil. He overcomes ignorance by setting forth the truth ; He meets unwillingness to follow and obey the truth, by threatening, by censure, by discipline, by chastisement. He prefers the gentler methods, but never hesitates to follow severer measures when gentle ones do not avail. Clement has much to say upon the function of fear as a motive to righteous action. He regards it as in- 1 Strom., vii. c. 2. THE PURPOSE OF FEAR. 53 dispensable in this lifelong process of redemption from the power of sin, but he also refuses to con- sider fear apart from the work of the instructor. Fear is not a quality begotten in man in separate- ness and isolation from God, for in his view no hu- man soul can escape the divine tuition. It is rather a necessary part of the divine method of education, that fear should be implanted in man in order to his protection from the evils that assault and hurt the soul, as well as from those that endanger the body. But if we may so speak, the ultimate objective ground of this saving fear in spiritual things lies in no being, no condition of time or place, save God Himself. God alone inspires the fear, and always for a disciplinary purpose. 1 In whatever forms the fear may be clothed by the human imagination, the only reality to be truly feared is God ; and he has read rightly the true mean- ing of fear, who, in the words of St. Paul, works out his own salvation in fear and trembling, because it is God that is working in hi?n, to will and to do of His good pleasure. The Instructor has not only fear at his disposal as a means of education, but He inflicts judgments and penalties. The unbeliever who will not heed exhor- tation, or the believing Christian who still cherishes the inclination to sin, must experience the severity of God. The judgment is not conceived as the final assize of the universe in some remote future, but as a present continuous element in the process of hu- man education. The purpose of the judgment, as of all the divine penalties, is always remedial. 2 Judg- ment enters into the work of redemption as a con- 1 Strom., ii. c. 7; Pcedag., i. 9. 2 Strom., i. c. 27 ; iv. c. 24. 54 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. structive factor. God does not teach in order that He may finally judge, but He judges in order that He may teach. The censures, the punishments, the judgment of God are a necessary element of the edu- cational process in the life of humanity, and the mo- tive which underlies them is goodness and love. They are at the disposal of a divine Instructor, who or- ders the course of the external world for a benefi- cent end, who has attested His love by coming into the world and dying for men. 1 There is no essential difference between justice and goodness (as Marcion had taught) ; justice resolves itself into love ; even the divine anger — if it is proper to so term it — is full of love to man, for whose sake God became in- carnate ; " to Him alone it belongs to consider, and His care it is to see to the way and the manner in which the life of men may be made more healthy." 2 The idea of life as an education under the immedi- ate superintendence of a divine Instructor, who is God Himself indwelling in the world, constitutes the central truth in Clement's theology. Here lies his answer to the diverse Gnostic heresies with which his age abounded. To Marcion and others denouncing the heathen world before Christ came as under the dominion of demons, and as only ripening for destruc- tion, Clement virtually replies that the divine In- structor had himself been speaking to the heathens, through their own recognized teachers, their poets and philosophers, by exhortations to the pursuit after righteousness ; that these utterances, however imper- fect, appealed to a humanity made in God's like- ness, and endowed with a desire to reach forth after the divine. To Marcion, still further sharply dis- 1 Pcedag., i. c. 12. 2 Padag., i. c. 12. CLEMENT AS AN APOLOGIST. 55 languishing between justice and love, and discarding the Old Testament and Jewish religion, because in them justice appears as the ruling principle, Clement replies that justice is but another form or manifesta- tion of the divine love, designed to act upon those who are in the lower stages of the redemptive pro- cess ; that the judgments of God, which are in all the world, are purifying the spiritual atmosphere, and adapting the earthly environment of man to his spir- itual life. 1 Against those, on the other hand, who saw in Christianity only the continuation of Jewish religion, as in Ebionism, or the pseudo - Clementine writings, Clement, while doing full justice to the principle of historical and spiritual continuity which binds together the two dispensations, asserts their difference by showing that He who spoke through Jewish prophets had in the fullness of time appeared as God manifest in the flesh, and given to men to know the truth, which in Judaism was but faintly discerned, and enabled man, through Christ, to rise to the imitation of God, to the contemplation of Deity in His inmost nature. In opposition to the tendency which showed itself in all the Gnostic systems to divide the human family into fixed classes, the elect and the non-elect, separated by impassable barriers, Clement emphasized the spiritual oneness of humanity, its ac- tual redemption as a whole in Christ, while each indi- vidual is necessarily related to God in virtue of his constitution in the divine image. The idea of a dis- tant Deity which underlies all the Gnostic theosophies, — a God outside the framework of all human things, and incapable of communicating Himself to human- ity, — is met by the idea of God as indwelling in the 1 Pcedag., i. c. 12. 56 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. world, a real and continuous presence of the Word made flesh, who is one with God, and who is God. The Gnostic conception of the world as an accident, in its nature evil, only by the renunciation of which a few rise to salvation, is everywhere contradicted in Clement's thought, by the conception of the world as organized throughout in accordance with a moral principle, and as lending itself to the higher inter- ests of man. Salvation is not a physical process, but an ethical growth, through union with God; divine knowledge is no mere speculative insight into the origin of things, but an ever-growing perception of the true character of God, as it is revealed in Christ. Another ruling idea among the Gnostics, that in the process of redemption God remains passive and un- concerned, an idea which also lay at the root of all oriental theosophy, and at a later time became influ- ential in Neo-Platonic thought, is met in Clement's theology by the truth, to advocate which was the object of all his writings, that God Himself initiates and indwells in the process of redemption; that God alone is the immanent force acting directly or im- mediately within humanity, dispensing with the neces- sity for mediators in heaven or in earth. The doctrine of a sacrificial expiation for sin as commonly understood finds no place in Clement's view of redemption. There is no necessity that God should be reconciled with humanity, for there is no schism in the divine nature between love and justice which needs to be overcome before love can go forth in free and full forgiveness. The idea that justice and love are distinct attributes of God, differing widely in their operation, — a doctrine first propounded in all its rigor by Marcion, — is regarded by Clement as having THE INCARNATION AND ATONEMENT. 57 its origin in a mistaken conception of their nature. Justice and love are in reality one and the same attri- bute, or, to speak from the point of view which distin- guishes them, God is most loving when He is most just, and most just when He is most loving. Love constitutes the essential quality of God ; not the love which in its inferior human manifestations appears as an indulgent, weak affection ; but love in its highest sense, as that in God which seeks the perfection of all His creatures, and follows them with cliastisements for the insurement of its end. In the redemptive work of Christ, Clement sees no readjustment or restoration of a broken relationship between God and humanity, but rather the revelation of a relationship which had always existed, indestruc- tible in its nature, obscured but not obliterated by human ignorance and sin. Humanity in the light of the incarnation appears as constitutionally allied with its Maker, as in its inmost being lovable and therefore loved by God. Truly to know Him who in love guides men to the life that is best, carries with it the recognition of duty and the obligation of obedi- ence. The forgiveness of sin comes as by a spiritual law to those who respond to the divine Teacher speak- ing within the heart. In the life and especially the death of Christ lies the evidence of God's identifica- tion with man ; the incarnation is in itself the atone- ment by which God reconciles the world unto Himself. God in Christ is seen sharing all that is darkest and most bitter in human experience, in order to the su- preme manifestation of His love. 1 According to Clement, faith is the inward response of a soid constituted for the truth ; it is the spiritual 1 Pcedag., i. cc. 6, 8. 58 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. vision by which spiritual truth is discerned, corre- sponding in the sphere of spiritual things to the eye of the body in the world of external things. 1 It may be weak in its first ventures, but it grows stronger and clearer under the divine tuition ; its tendency in the matured Christian is to pass over into that knowl- edge winch is the absolute certainty of the things re- vealed, — the knowledge (Gnosis) of St. Paul when he said, " I know in whom I have believed." In this consciousness of the soul lies the principle of certitude. Back to it must be referred for final sanction, the teachings of philosophers, of apostles, and prophets. Clement admits no antithesis between faith and knowl- edge, between reason and revelation ; knowledge en- ters into faith as one of its constituent elements ; 2 rea- son and reflection are the avenues through which the divine revelation comes. What is called "culture" has therefore a close relationship to faith, 3 and human knowledge in all departments of inquiry is necessary for the comprehension of the Scriptures. 4 As Clement recognizes no schism in the divine nature between jus- tice and love, so neither is there an antagonism be- tween the faculties of the human soul. Those are wrong who make faith an exceptionally supernatural gift, as if it were sufficient in itself apart from the in- tellect or reason ; faith in its highest aspect is truly natural, springing from the endowment of our consti- tution with God's image. But if Clement exalts what some have called the human element in religion and revelation, he does not fall into the error of thinking that man originates a revelation, or evolves the truth 1 Pcedag., i. c. 6. 2 Pcedag., i. c. 6 ; Strom., i. c. 8 ; also vii. c. 10 ; and ii. c. 4* 8 Strom., i. c. 6. 4 Strom., i. e, 9. REASON AND SCRIPTURE. 59 by some internal process apart from God; for he cannot conceive of man except as under a continu- ous divine influence, under an education which binds him closely to those objective facts in human history through which the divine Instructor speaks to the reason, above all to the supreme historic fact of the incarnation of the Word. It is for this reason that Clement attaches the highest importance to the Scrip- tures both of the Old and New Testaments ; he has grasped the principle which makes the Bible to be the word of God ; everywhere he sees in the written Word the traces of the divine Instructor, exhorting and teaching, reproving and correcting, disciplining men by judgments and punishments, presenting Himself in the body as the consummate model of life, using all the events of life as the instruments of that spir- itual education whose end is conformity to His own likeness. But Clement's use of Scripture is also in harmony with the principle that all authority for spiritual truth lies in its last analysis, within the consciousness of man. He does not adduce scriptural proof as having an independent value for the support of tenets obnox- ious to the reason, which must be received if at all on evidence external to the reason. Although he has given no formal definition of inspiration, it is clear that he regards it as having the same general charac- ter in the sacred writers that it has among the best of Greek philosophers ; l it is no arbitrary action of God upon the human faculties, but rather the high exhibition of that capacity with which the human con- stitution is endowed in virtue of its divine affiliation, and by which is discerned the revelation which God is 1 Strom., i. c. 13 ; Ibid. vi. c. 17. 60 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. always making to the world ; l in its highest action it still corresponds in principle, however it may differ in degree, with the humblest insight of faith. 2 Hence the verification of Christian truth is dependent upon no line of hierarchical descent ; the apostles are to be revered and followed, not so much because they were apostles, but because and in so far as they have pene- trated into the divine treasures of the incarnate Word ; the true successors of the apostles 3 are they who like them live perfectly in accordance with the highest reason. In his relation toward heresy the position of Clem- ent differs greatly from the attitude of the Roman church in his own day, or that of the later degenerate church of the East. Although he lived in the centre from which most of the heresies proceeded, and was familiar with them in their worst forms, yet such is his faith in the power and invincibleness of the truth, that he believes in the freest examination, and boldly urges upon the heretics themselves the necessity for a deeper study of the faith as the remedy for false opin- ions. He does not fall back upon a creed or rule of faith to be received on the external authority of the church or of tradition ; he does not appeal to any tri- bunal to cut off the heretics from the communion of the faithful; he does not denounce them in extrava- gant language in order to show a becoming horror for their tenets. From some of his allusions to the here- tics, it appears that he regarded them as men earnest and sincere in the pursuit of truth. When those out- side of the church urge the diversity of opinion within its ranks as an argument against joining the Christian 1 Strom., i. c. 19. 2 Strom., i. c. 4 ; Ibid. c. 9. 3 Strom., vi. c. 13. CLEMENTS TREATMENT OF HERESY. 61 communion, he replies that there are many sects in philosophy, and yet one does not refuse for that reason to philosophize ; that there are many opposite opinions in medicine, and yet one does not decline to call in a physician. 1 Heresies call for a deeper and more searching inquiry, they entail a greater labor on the seeker for truth, but for this very reason they are aids to the discovery of the truth. 2 As to the heretics themselves, if their errors proceed from vanity or self- will, or any other evil root, the remedy lies with the divine Instructor, the living present Christ, whose discipline and chastisements alone can wean them from their evil state to the knowledge of Himself. 3 So far as their errors proceed from a superficial use of the reason, the remedy lies in a fuller use of the reason. If they have mistaken the sense of Scripture, they are to be invited to its more thorough study. Clement wrote no books, as did some of the fathers, " against all heresies," for the purpose of a detailed exposure of error ; but he did that which was better : he combated the errors most effectively by writings whose object was to exhibit the truth in the fullness of its attraction and adaptation for man ; indeed his entire literary ac- tivity may be regarded as one great apology for the Christian faith by showing what the faith really was. Clement does not give any formal definition of the church, nor are his few allusions to the subject of a kind to satisfy those in search of a historical catena by which later notions regarding the church may be supported. There are no traces in his writings of the doctrine of apostolic succession ; the unity of the church is nowhere made to depend upon unity with 1 Strom., vii. c. 15. 2 Ibid,. 3 Strom., vii. e. 1C. 62 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. the bishop ; baptism is not presented as essential to salvation ; nor is salvation limited to those within the visible organization. The clergy are not regarded as having any special priestly character ; in the current acceptation of terms, there is in the church neither priesthood, sacrifice, nor altar. Everywhere the Scrip- tures are placed above the church as well as before it, and Scripture is not intrusted to the hierarchy for preservation or interpretation, but to the Christian conscience. And yet the church which Clement por- trays has its notes. Its main characteristic is ethical. It is composed of those who realize their calling as the children of God, who have put aside the old man and stripped off the garment of wickedness, and put on the immortality of Christ. The church has also or- ganic life ; it is a community of men who are led by the divine Logos, an invincible city upon earth which no force can subdue, where the will of God is done as it is in heaven. The church is like a human be- ing, 1 consisting of many members ; it is refreshed and grows ; it is welded and compacted together ; it is fed and sustained by a supernatural life, and becomes in its turn, in the hands of the divine Instructor, a means of leading humanity into life. The bond of the church's unityf, the secret of the church's life and growth, is the living personal Christ, whose immanence in humanity is the only force adequate to its deliverance from sin, and its final perfecting according to the original pur- pose of its creation. The sacraments, and, in general, the rites of wor- ship, do not meet any extensive treatment in the writ- ings of Clement. What is said on these topics is always in the way of incidental allusion rather than 1 Pcedag., i. c. 6. THE SACRAMENTS AS SYMBOLS. 63 of direct exposition. In Clement's thought, the real presence and the divine activity of the living personal Christ is organically related to the soul, in all times and places, in all the conditions and circumstances of life. He alone purifies man from sin, leads him to re- pentance, and prepares him for that supreme moment when, in the waters of baptism, he takes the vow of self -consecration to the divine will. He alone every- where and always gives Himself to humanity as the bread of life. Hence the sacraments became symbols of great spiritual processes ; they are signs, and effec- tive signs, of an actual purification and an actual sustenance. But the vast spiritual reality is never limited, diminished, or materialized by identifying the sign with the thing signified. The water of baptism is charged with no magical potency ; the bread and wine are not transmuted into spiritual power operating as by a mechanical law ; the bread and wine stand as metaphors * of that eternal Word of life conveyed by God in Christ to those who know to receive it, by the many and diverse channels of approach to which the soul lies open. The idea of a sacrifice in the eucharist which the church pleads before God, or which propi- tiates the divine favor, is disavowed : u Neither by sac- rifices nor offerings, nor, on the other hand, by glory and honor, is the Deity won over, nor is He influenced by any such things ; " " we glorify Him who gave Him- self in sacrifice for us, we also sacrificing ourselves." 2 There is in the nature of spiritual things no other sac- rifice than that of self to do God's will, which man can offer to the Eternal. 3 " The altar that is with us here on earth is the congregation of those who devote themselves to prayer, having, as it were, one common 1 Pcedag., i. c. 6. 2 Strom., vii. c. 3. 8 Strom., vii. c. 6. 64 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. voice and mind." " The sacrifice of the church is the word breathing as incense from holy souls, the sacrifice and the whole mind being at the same time unveiled to God." In the lifetime of Clement, the contagion of a false asceticism was beginning to spread in the church, al- though its recognition as a principle of the Christian life was still chiefly confined to the heretical sects, such as the Montanists and the Gnostics. In opposition to those who advocated voluntary poverty or the aban- donment of property, by a misunderstanding of the teaching of Christ, Clement reasons that it is the inor- dinate love of money which the Saviour condemns ; that the abuse of riches, not their possession, hurts the soul. What Christ desires is the conversion of the inward man to Himself, and this can be accom- plished by no external procedure. It is God's design that property should be unequally distributed ; the di- vine education of humanity includes the right use of riches ; they are the stewardship of a trust for one's own benefit, and that of others. Hence the doctrine of the community of goods appears to him to contro- vert the divine will. 1 Clement does not conceive of fasting as consisting in abstinence from meat and wine ; such an idea prevailed in heathen religions, and has no essential relationship to Christian culture. 2 There is a true fasting, 3 which lies not in the mortifi- cation of the body or the endeavor to extirpate the physical appetites, but in obtaining the mastery over sin ; the abstinence from all evil in thought, word, or action, — from covetousness and voluptuousness, from< which all vices flow. The only true fasting is that 1 Strom., iii. c. 9. 2 Strom., iii. c. 7. 3 Pcedag., vii. c. 12 ; Strom., vi. c. 12 ; Ibid. vii. c. 12. OPPOSITION TO ASCETICISM. 65 which God has appointed, — to loose the bands of wickedness, to dissolve the knots of oppressive con- tracts, to let the oppressed go free, to cover the naked, and to shelter the homeless poor. Against those who urged the celibate life as preferable in itself, on the ground that thus a greater work could be done for God, or the salvation of the individual soul more per- fectly secured, Clement maintained that marriage is a divine ordinance, given to subserve the loftiest pur- poses of human education and discipline, and not a concession to the flesh. He who is married is more of a man and fitted for a larger work for God, in that he receives thereby the fuller, more complex discipline of life, in his solicitude for wife and children, home and possessions, remaining faithful through all temptations, and inseparable from the love of God. 1 In Clem- ent's application the words of Christ, " There am I in the midst of them," apply to the family, where father and mother and children gather together in his name. 2 The principle which made Clement strong to resist the sinister tendencies of asceticism sprang from his idea of God and of His relationship to the world. The world is sacred as a divine creation, — the abode cf indwelling Deity ; the human body is the temple of a Holy Spirit, and becomes a very sanctuary by conse- cration to the will of God. The outward world is or- dered in the divine purpose for the well - being of man, its beauty is the reflection of a higher, di- viner beauty ; it belongs to one organic whole, the disowning of which in any part is to distrust God and contemn His wisdom. While the power of self- restraint is one of the divinest gifts of God to man, 1 Strom., vii. c. 12- 2 Strom., iii. c. 10. 5 66 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. and temperance and moderation are to be followed in all things, so that the life of the senses does not en- tangle and weaken the higher energies of the spirit, yet every creature of God is good and to be received with thankfulness ; " The economy of creation is good, and all things are well-administered : nothing happens without a cause. I must be in what is thine, O om- nipotent One ; and if I am, then am I near Thee." 1 Man, it is true, is in this world as in a pilgrimage ; yet he uses inns and dwellings by the way ; he has a care of the things of the world, of the places where he halts. The wise man is ready to leave his dwelling- place and property without excessive emotion, he gives thanks for his sojourn, and blesses God for his depar- ture. We are sojourners in the world, but we are also at home in the world. No one is a stranger to the world by nature, for their essence is one, and God is one. 2 Clement has expressed himself sparingly in refer- ence to the future life, and what are called the " last things." Either he is not interested in questions which cannot be solved, and avoids the sphere of mere opin- ion, or his mind is preoccupied with the theme of re- demption, as calling out and satisfying the highest energies of the soul. The opinion once so generally held, especially among Jewish Christians, and still prevailing among the Christians in the West in Clem- ent's own time, that Christ was soon to make a sec- ond personal coming in the flesh, in order to introduce a millennium for the faithful and to take vengeance upon his adversaries, is to his mind irrational, for it contradicts his supreme conviction that the essential spiritual Christ is already here in the fullness of his 1 Strom., iv. c. 23. 2 Strom., iv. c. 26 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 67 exalted might, and has already begun to witness his triumph "at the right hand of the Father." The judgment of the world is not viewed as a fixed event in the distant future, but as now forming part, an integral part, of the process by which the human race is educated under its divine Instructor. The motives and sanctions of the higher spiritual life are not the rewards of future bliss ; but the service and imitation of God for His own sake is the inspiration and reward of the truly enlightened Christian. 1 Clement did not accept the opinion regarding the resurrection, which was received in the West, and sustained by Tertullian, that the identical flesh of the body which had been laid in the grave would be reanimated ; the resurrection was the standing up again in immortal life ; it was not the same body, but a reclothing in some higher form of the purified spirit. The future life is conceived as existing in different stages of blessedness on the prin- ciple of a progressive development. " God works all things up to what is better." 2 The beneficent work of the Saviour is not restricted by any accidents of time or place, but He operates to save at all times and everywhere. " If in this life there are so many ways for purification and repentance, how much more should there be after death. The purification of souls when separated from the body will be easier. We can set no limits to the agency of the Redeemer ; to redeem, to rescue, to discipline, is His work, and so will He continue to operate after this life." 3 It may be that Clement had limited notions of the immensity of the universe, as modern astronomy has revealed it; but 1 Strom., iv. c. 22. 2 Strom., iv. c. 26. 3 Strom., vi. c. 6 ; ef. Neander, History of Doctrine, p. 254. 68 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. even had he known all that we know, one cannot think that it would have shaken his faith in the doctrine of the incarnation, — that the insignificance of this planet amonc the millions of the spheres would have been to him a reason why God could not have walked it in hu- man form. His belief in the inherent worth of the individual soul, as constituted after the divine image, would not allow him to succumb to the thought that man was created practically an animal only, with the possibility attached of some time receiving an immor- tal spirit in virtue of his own exertions ; or, on the other hand, that any soul could continue forever to re- sist the force of redeeming love. Somehow and some- where, in the long run of ages, that love must prove mightier than sin and death, and vindicate its power in one universal triumph. The theology of Clement has been presented at some length, because, as the first of the great Greek fathers, he stands in the same relation to those that came after him that Augustine sustained to the Latin theology of the Middle Ages, or Luther and Calvin to the later Protestantism. The modifications of his thought by later fathers were considerable ; but as in the mediaeval church the type of Augustine's theology continued to prevail though some of his tenets were discarded, or as Lutheranism and Calvinism, while abandoning much that was essential in the attitude of their leaders, still retained a certain faithfulness to them which continued to manifest itself in their his- tory, so the Greek theology, as presented or developed by Origen, Athanasius, Basil, and the two Gregories, remained substantially true to the spirit of Clement's teaching. CLEMENT AND MARCUS AURELIUS. 69 In one respect, Clement had an advantage over all that followed him. He lived in a fresh creative epocli ; his age witnessed the production of the ancient creeds, those spontaneous utterances welling forth from the heart of the church, which, as summaries of great convictions by which the soul of man was possessed, have an enduring freshness and value which no lapse of time can impair. It was Clement's peculiar merit that he kept himself so free from entanglement with mere opinions. He never lost sight of the distinction between God as the great reality and all human spec- ulations about Him. In his own words, " there is a difference between declaring God and declaring things about God." To declare God was the ruling purpose of his life. He held, or rather was held, by a supreme conviction, that God and humanity were bound together in one through Christ ; that God did not leave men to themselves in the search after Him, but was forever going forth in Christ to seek after men and to lead them into life. It was some such truth as this for which Plutarch had been yearning, which he and many other noble heathens were in vain trying to extract from the old polytheism. Had Marcus Aurelius known of such a teacher as Clement described, it would seem as though the inmost need of his being must have been met and satisfied. The history of the age in which Clement lived yields no traces of the extent of his influence, vast as we may feel that influence must have been. It is strange how almost all knowledge of the man himself has disap- peared. Only his books remain to show us what he was like. Judging from these, said the late Mr. Mau- rice, " he seems to me that one of the old fathers 70 . THE GREEK THEOLOGY. whom we all should have reverenced most as a teacher and loved as a friend." * III. Clement was succeeded in the headship of the school at Alexandria by Origen (186-254), who had been his pupil, and whose brilliant genius eclipsed the reputa- tion of his teacher. The fame of Origen surpasses that of any other ancient father for the extent of his learning and the range of his mental powers. So pro- found was the impression which he left upon his own and succeeding ages, that he became the starting-point from which later directions of thought took their de- parture, while still acknowledging their indebtedness to his influence. Systems even that were hostile to each other, the right and the left wing in the trinitarian controversy, each claimed the sanction of his name. If Arius appealed to his authority, Athanasius was eager to vindicate his reputation for orthodoxy. For these reasons, Origen has been often taken as the best representative of the Greek theology, while the name of his master has been allowed to sink into neglect. There was another reason why Origen rather than Clement should have been identified so exclusively 1 Eccles. History of the First and Second Centuries, p. 239. The name of Clement was retained in the calendar of the Roman Catholic Church as a saint until the close of the sixteenth cen- tury, when it was omitted under the pontificate of Clement VIII- (1592-1605). Pope Benedict XIII. (1724-1730) justified its omission, on the grounds that little was known of his life, that no popular cult had gathered round his memory, and that there were divergent estimates of the value of his teaching. It was manifestly an oversight that his name should have remained so long in the Roman calendar. Cf. Freppel, Clement d 'Alexandrie, p. 65. 0R1GEN. 71 with Alexandrian theology. Coming as he did a gen- eration after Clement, he fell upon an age which was seeking to define and justify, in speculative terms, the doctrine of the Christian trinity. When this great issue began to absorb the energies of the church, an earlier writer like Clement, who had not approached the problem on its purely intellectual side, nor con- tributed anything definite to its solution, would fall outside the circle of living interests. But notwithstanding the different requirements of his age and his own mental independence, Origen was in substantial sympathy with the theology of his teacher. In his interpretation of the Christian faith, Clement reappears, often in greater clearness and fullness, as well as beauty of expression. It is there- fore as unnecessary as it would be impossible to at- tempt a resume of his complete thought. It is in his relation to philosophy that Origen diverged most widely from Clement, and to this divergence were owing the fanciful opinions which have disfigured his teaching, and which the common sense of the church, even in his own time, repudiated. Like Clement, Origen believed that philosophy was a divinely ap- pointed means for attaining the truth. But Clement adhered to no one system of philosophical thought as containing the absolute truth, and possessed an in- ward vigor of spirit, by which the heathen elements in the systems of Plato or Aristotle or Zeno might be eliminated or transmuted by a higher method. " By philosophy," he says, " I do not mean the Stoic or the Platonic or the Epicurean or the Aristotelian, but whatever has been well said by each of those sects which teach righteousness along with a faith pervaded by piety." 72 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. Orio-en, on the contrary, came under the influence of the rising Neo-Platonism, and was inclined to re- ceive it as a whole, to adopt its methods for the ex- plication of the more recondite principles of Christian theology. 1 The principle of the Neo-Platonists, whose object was to create an eclectic system in which all forms of philosophy and religion might be harmonized, commended itself naturally to a mind like Origen's, with its vast capacity for generalizations, with its in- satiate thirst for a system which should embrace all things in heaven and earth. Thus are explained his notions about the origin of evil, a fall in celestial cir- cles, the preexistence and transmigration of souls, the design of the body as a prison-house of the spirit, the prominence assigned to angels as corresponding some- what to the demons of the old polytheism, and also his principle of biblical interpretation which led him to neglect the literal teaching of Scripture in the in- terest of some fancied higher truth discerned beneath the letter. 2 While Origen was to some extent unfavorably in- 1 After Origen had begun his career as a teacher in the Chris- tian school in Alexandria, he placed himself under the instruc- tion of Ammonius Saccas, the first of the long and distinguished line of Neo-Platonic philosophers. Euseb. H. E., vi. 19. See, also, Mosheim's Commentaries, ii. sect. 27 ; Redepenning, Ori- genes, p. 230 ; Ritter, Die Christliche Philosophie, i. 340. 2 Origen, it should be said, recognized a wide difference be- tween his speculative fancies and the essentials of Christian rev- elation. Nor did the purity of his faith or the simplicity of his Christian character suffer from his intellectual vagaries. Mos- heim, who had great contempt for his philosophical aberrations, says of him : " Certainly, if any man deserves to stand first in the catalogue of saints and martyrs, and to be annually held up as an example to Christians, this is the man." — Commentaries, ii. 149. CHRISTIANITY AND NEO-PLATONISM. 73 fluenced by Neo-Platonic thought, yet in his attitude toward the fundamental issues which it was the aim of that philosophy to explain, he rests upon the Chris- tian revelation, and brings out the truth of the incar- nation as that which can alone meet the needs of speculative inquiry or the wants of the religious life. In some respects, it is true, the Neo-Platonists had before them the same problem which confronted the Christian theologian. That problem was no other than to bind together in close organic unity the world and God, — to overcome the tendency to separation derived from oriental theosophies which was exerting its influence upon Greek philosophy as well as upon Christian thought. The dying words of Plotinus have been often quoted as expressing the ruling idea of his philosophy : " I am striving to bring the God which is in me into harmony with the God which is in the uni- verse." One difference between the Christian thinker and the pagan philosopher lay in this : that the one started with the conviction of the divine immanence in the world and in humanity, while the other could not escape from the notion of God as primarily exist- ing at an infinite distance, in an absolute isolation from the world. The problem of the Neo-Platonic philosopher had been already solved indeed, had he but known it, in the theology of the incarnation. Hence, however Origen may seem to approximate to the position of heathen thought, the appearance is but superficial ; he may admit the heathen postulate of a distant and unknown Deity, and the admission may involve him in contradiction and confusion, but he never yields his conviction of the indwelling God as revealed in Christ. In Him the visible creation in all its grades of existence lives and moves and has its 74 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. being ; in Him it is the prerogative of humanity by virtue of its constitution to participate. 1 The contribution of Origen toward the great ques- tion of his age was of the highest value to all who followed him. He did not indeed reach the true for- mula of the Christian trinity, but he made it possible for his successors to do so by his well-known doctrine of the eternal generation of the Son. When interpret- ed by the light of his age, that doctrine was the effort to bind together Father and Son and Holy Spirit in a necessary organic communion and fellowship. The result of the heathen belief invading the church was not only to separate God from man, but to separate also between the Father and the eternal Son ; to reduce Christ to the rank of creatures brought into existence by the absolute will. In the doctrine of the eternal gen- eration of the Son, Origen was resisting the heathen principle which makes God the absolute incommuni- cable Deity. From all eternity, so Origen reasoned, by a necessary law of His being, God communicates Himself to the Son, — the light which is the life and blessedness of the whole creation goes forth eternally from the source of light, as the rays go forth from the sun. To exist in relationship is the essential idea of God. To think otherwise would be to rob Deity of His true glory. If He existed alone in simple unity and solitary grandeur, apart from some object upon which from all eternity to expend His love, in whom He forever delighted to see Himself reflected, then He was not from all eternity God ; His fatherhood, His love, His infinite power would be accessions to His being in the course of time. There would have been a time, therefore, when He was imperfect, when love 1 De Princip., i. c. 3. THE CHURCH'S DILEMMA. 75 did not go forth, when the light did not shine, when the righteousness and power of Deity lay idle and in- effective. 1 Beyond this, Origen did not go. There remained another step to take, the nature of which could be seen, and its necessity demonstrated only when the logic of events should have ripened the mind of the church, and exposed more clearly the danger to which the Christian faith was exposed from the inroads of the heathen principle. To this end even the errors of Origen contributed. It was seen that his thought must be supplemented if the truth which he had reached was to be retained. For while Origen had asserted the eternal generation of the Son from the Father, he did not resist successfully the prevailing oriental notion that what is generated must be in some way inferior to the source from which it pro- ceeds. Hence he had so subordinated the Son to the Father and the Spirit to the Son, that his conception of the trinity might be regarded as akin to the prin- ciple by which Neo-Platonism was seeking to revive the old polytheism. Two directions in thought lay open to the church after Origen's departure, both of which claimed the authority of his reputation : the one, neglecting his doctrine of eternal generation, pushed to an extreme the principle of subordination ; while the other dropped the idea of subordination, and asserting the coequality of the three distinctions in the divine name, sought to carry out all that was implied in the positive prin- ciple of a Son eternally generated from the Father. Long before Arius appeared the divergence had be- gun to be manifested. In what was known as Sabel- 1 De Princip.f i. c. 2. 76 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. lianism may be read the protest of the Christian con- sciousness against the separation of the Son from the Father, or of the infinite Spirit from both. But this protest against separation and subordination was car- ried so far as to obliterate the eternal distinction between them. The tendency of what is known as Sabellianism, if it had prevailed, would have so en- feebled the Christian doctrine of the trinity as to make Father, Son, and Holy Spirit merely names for the diverse operations of God, and thus eventually have substituted for the complex and fruitful idea of Deity as given in the Christian revelation the single or simple essence of Jewish or Mohammedan deism. To this result the Arianism of a later age was also tending, though by a different process. The situation was a difficult one, — to maintain the distinct and eternal existence of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, while not denying the unity of the one God, and on the other hand to emphasize the divine unity without endangering with Sabellius the eternal distinc- tions within the bosom of Godhead. Jewish deism on the one hand, and polytheism on the other, were the Scylla and Charybdis between which the church was moving. Either of them was an easy and simple solu- tion of the difficulty, and either of them was alike fatal to the Christian revelation. The issue became a clear one in the early part of the fourth century. The church was profoundly moved at the voice of Athana- sius proclaiming, as the doctrine of God, the one essence within which coexisted, and as it were circu- lated from all eternity, the three vital and coequal forces or distinctions of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. CHARACTER OF ATHANASTUS. 77 IV. Athanasius was born in the city of Alexandria in the year 296, and follows Origen as the next most illustrious representative of Greek theology. But it is not to Athanasius in his capacity as a theologian onty that the church has decreed the highest honors. He has been designated the father of orthodoxy, but he is also the ecclesiastical hero in the supreme crisis of the church's career. He was great in himself, but he also owed his greatness to the environment of his age. What he might have been had he lived at an earlier period or under different circumstances it is useless to conjecture. The external events of his time developed in him a character not seen in the church before, — that of the statesman or ecclesiastical politician whose object it was not to attain martyrdom but triumph, who exposed himself to danger in order to secure success, who fought in order to conquer. It is sometimes forgotten in ecclesiastical circles, where it most needs to be remembered, that he fousrht not only the world in the shape of an intriguing imperial court, but his hardest conflicts were with the church itself, his greatest victory over the oriental bishops arrayed against him in a large majority. His name stands for the encouragement of those who resist the church in the interest of some higher truth which it has not yet learned to appreciate ; his experience illustrates that one man standing out against the church may be right and the church may be wrong : and further, his life demonstrates how at all critical moments the faith takes refuge, not in institutions but in individual men. To Athanasius, with his clear insight and his unconquerable purpose, is it owing that 78 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. the church was saved to the doctrine of the Christian trinity. But all this belongs to the history of the church as an institution. We are concerned now only with the place of Athanasius in the history of Christian thought. Born and brought up as he was in the home of Greek theology, he had drunk in the influence of that culture whose aim it has been said was the discovery of the highest beauty and the divinest wisdom. The traces of Greek philosophy are apparent in his writ- ings, and the principles drawn from Greek philosophy underlie his controversy with the Arians. " He was a Greek by birth and education ; Greek also in subtle thought and philosophical insight, in oratorical power and supple statesmanship." 1 In his theology the habit of spiritual thought seen in Clement and Ori- gen is everywhere visible ; all that was distinctive of Greek theology in its contrast with the later Latin be- longs to him, not merely by way of traditional accept- ance, but through the free concurrence of independent and original reflection. The greater part of Athanasius' writings are of a controversial character. But in two small treatises written before Arius arose, we have the groundwork of the theology which served him in his long struggle. They are entitled, " A Treatise against the Greeks," and " The Incarnation of the Word." The value of the first treatise lies in the manner in which he con- ducts his polemic against heathenism. He broke away from the tiresome and fruitless method of former apologists, and addressed himself directly to 1 Gwatkin, Studies of Arianism,^. 67 ; Fialon, Saint Athanase-, 284-291. ARGUMENT AGAINST HEATHENISM. 79 the great issue between Christianity and polytheism. The class of educated men to whom he spoke no longer believed the absurd and immoral myths which the traditional apologist from force of habit continued to expose and ridicule. But while discarding the ab- surdities of mythology, men like Porphyry and Jam- blichus still maintained that the world was created and governed by intermediaries, lower deities, who were the beneficent forces of nature, whose dwelling- 7 o place was in the sun or planets, in the ocean, in rivers, in forests and groves, or in the human mind. To worship them, they thought, was only to recognize through them the higher Deity from whom they pro- ceeded. This was the point to which the controversy between Celsus and Origen had reduced itself. The emperor Julian, in a treatise now lost, in which he was combating Christianity, expressed the most deep-rooted conviction of heathenism when he said that what hin- dered him from giving his assent to the new religion was the impossibility, to his mind, of conceiving how the one and infinite God was able to govern the world without a retinue of intermediate deities. Athanasius met this position in his discourse against the Greeks by asserting that there was no necessity for such intermediaries, since God Himself was dwell- ing in the creation, and that all things had been made directly or immediately by Him. The principle upon which he rested was the Stoic doctrine of the divine immanence. " The all-powerful and perfect reason of the Father," so he wrote, " penetrating the universe, developing everywhere its forces, illuminating with His light things, visible and invisible, made of them all one whole and bound them together, allowing noth- ing to escape from his powerful action, vivifying and 80 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. preserving a]l beings in themselves, and in the har- mony of the creation." " In the light of the divine Logos, everything lives upon earth while all is organ- ized in the heavens. There is nothing of that which is and which each day appears which has not its being in Him, and by Him, its place in the universal har- moiry. 1 In his treatise on the incarnation one can see the inner process in Athanasius' mind as he labors to re- tain the Stoic principle of immanent Deity without confounding God with the world. Like his predeces- sors Clement and Origen, he builds his thought upon the divine immanence, not on the transcendence of God. " This divine Logos, a being incorporeal, ex- pands Himself in the universe as light expands in the air, penetrating all, and all entire, everywhere. He gives Himself without losing anything of Himself, and with Him is given the Father who makes all things by Him, and the Spirit who is His energy." He un- folds Himself in all things without mersnn°- Himself in them. The Deity communicates Himself to His creatures, penetrates them, animates them, while yet remaining distinct from them, — the true God of hu- manity whose presence and love we feel, the vivifying intelligence which mingles and circulates in the great body of the universe. 2 In order to know God He must be looked for within the soul. 3 The soul contemplates shining within itself as in a mirror, the image of the Father, the Word in- carnate, and in itself it conceives the Father. 4 Upon 1 Contra Gentes, c. 42. 2 Be Incar. Verbi, cc. 8, 17. Cf. also Dorner's Person of Christ, Eng. trans. Div. i. vol. ii. p. 250. 3 Contra Gentes, c. 33. 4 Contra Gentes, c. 34. HOW GOD IS TO BE KNOWN. 81 this point, the way to the knowledge of God, the thought of Athanasius reproduces the teaching of Greek philosophy, and more especially that of the Stoic school. The revelation of God is written in the human consciousness ; the ground of all certitude is within man, not in any authority external to his nature. " In order to know the way which leads to God and to take it with certainty, we have no need of foreign aid, but of ourselves alone. As God is above all, the way which leads to Him is neither distant, nor outside of us, nor difficult to find. The kingdom of God is within us. Since we have in us the kingdom of God, we are able easily to contemplate and conceive the King of the universe, the salutary reason of the universal Father. If any one asks of me, What is the way ? I answer, that it is the soul of each and the intelligence which it encloses." *• The wise man has no need to seek without himself, or to infer the divine existence from the external world. He sees God within himself, who is His image and as it were His shadow. The preparation of a soul for seeking and knowing God is in its own purification. In order to rise to the knowledge of the truth, it is necessary to unite with the intelligence a virtuous life and purity of heart. It is the soul itself which of itself and by itself disen- gages itself from that which stains it, and is thus rendered worthy of entering into communion with Him who is purity. It is not through grace coming from without, but by a voluntary purification within, that man can see God. In thoughts like these, Atha- nasius was only asserting the principles implied in the doctrine of the incarnation. As he reasons in his dis- course against the Greeks, it is through the revelation 1 Contra Gentes, c. 30. 6 82 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. of God in Christ that man comes to know his real nature, and the power with which he has been invested. The revelation is a disclosing to man of his true con- stitution. Christ has come to break down the barriers of ignorance and neglect by which man is hindered from knowing himself in the capacities and destiny imprinted upon his nature in the first creation. Hence, with Athanasius as with his predecessors, the freedom of the will is an inalienable heritage in virtue of the human constitution in God's image ; it still exists as the ability to turn to what is good, even after man has turned away to the evil ; it cannot be forfeited or lost because it is the endowment of a constitution which is divine. 1 If in any respect in his view of the incarnation, Athanasius advances upon the teaching of his pred- ecessors, it is in the more emphatic assertion of the solidarity of the human race in Christ. Christ is the head and representative of all mankind, and through His organic relationship with humanity all that He was, all that He did, belongs to the race of man. From Him mankind inherits a glory and distinction in which all its members share ; from Him a Spirit flows forth upon all, anointing them as with a precious ointment ; or, in other words, humanity has been actually re- deemed in Christ. He took upon Himself the sin and guilt of men ; in Him all men died to sin ; in Him all men suffered the consequences of sin ; in Him all men share in the punishment of sin ; all men inherit the blessing which through Him comes from the fulfill- ment of the law of righteousness, and all are clothed with incorruption through the power of the resurrec- tion. The saving force which was in Him becomes 1 Maurice, Philosophy of the First Six Centuries, pp. 85-90. ILLUSTRATION OF THE INCARNATION. 83 henceforth through Him inherent in the life of human- ity and is diffused through all its members. 1 No better illustration to set forth his thought can be found, than that which Athanasius himself employed : "As when a mighty king entering some great city, although he occupies but one of its houses, positively confers great honor upon the whole city, and no en- emy or robber any longer throws it into confusion by his assaults, but on account of the presence of the king in one of its houses, the city is rather thought worthy of being guarded with the greatest care. So also is it in the case of Him who is Lord over all. For when He came into our country and dwelt in the body of one like ourselves, thenceforth every plot of the enemy against mankind was defeated, and the corruption of death that formerly operated to destroy men lost its power." 2 In defending the truth of the incarnation against those who maintained that such a doctrine implied what was absurd and impossible, Athanasius draws his argument from Greek philosophy, and urges the Stoic principle of the divine immanence, as lending rationality and probability to the conviction that the Word became flesh and dwelt among men. " For the world itself may be thought of as one great body in which God indwells; and if He is in the whole, He is also in the parts. It is no more unworthy of God that He should incarnate Himself in one man, than it is that He should dwell in the w r orld. Since he abides in humanity, which is a part of the universe, it is not un- reasonable that he should take up His abode in a man who should thus become the organ by which God acts on the universal life." 3 1 De Incar., cc. 8, 9, 20 ; Oratio contra Arianos, i. 46—18. 2 De Incar., c. 0. 3 De Incar., c. 41. 84 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. The process by which the historical Christ who lived and taught in Judaea is identified with the eternal Word of God made flesh, does not for Athanasius de- pend primarily upon any external evidence for its verification. Miracles in his view illustrate the inti- mate relationship of Christ to the physical world as its Lord and Master, and given the Christ, they are results to be expected by way of confirmation of that which is already perceived and believed. But the greatest miracles are wrought in the sphere of the spir- itual life, and it is by these that the miracle in the out- ward life of nature is corroborated. For example, the evidence of the resurrection of Christ is to be found mainly in the reality of the church's life. When the darkness of the material world gives way to light, it is proof that the sun has appeared. So also in the spiritual world, the light which is diffused where be- fore there was darkness is evidence that Christ still lives. Once men lived under bondage through fear of death ; now death has lost its sting ; even women and children voluntarily submit to it. In the power which effects the conversion of the heathens, in the influence which transforms the life, in these and results like these lies the evidence that Christ is not dead, that He is risen from the grave. The Saviour Himself continues to offer the proof of His resurrection in the works which He still accomplishes for the salvation of men. 1 Such had been the teaching of Athanasius before the year 318, when Arius arose in Alexandria. Arius had had his precursors in the history of the church. In the sect of the Ebionites, and in the pseudo-Clemen- tine writings of the second century, may be seen a view of Deity struggling for recognition, which, at a later 1 De Incar., cc. 27-32. RISE OF THE AR1AN THEOLOGY. 85 time, was to find its full development in the teaching of Mohammed. The Jewish faith was so popular in the second century throughout the Roman empire that it threatened to break the bonds of national ex- clusiveness, and expand into an universal religion. 1 Had it done so, it might have anticipated by centuries the system of Islam, which like Judaism commended itself to deep-rooted instincts in the oriental mind. Arius had received his training, not in Alexandria, but in Antioch, a city which, located as it was on the eastern confines of the empire, had not been able, de- spite its attachment to Hellenic culture, to overcome the preponderating influence of orientalism. Here toward the close of the third century was growing up a school of Christian thought, antagonistic in its spirit to that which had constituted the ruling idea of Greek theology, — a school which was destined also to leave its impression on the Christian church. The leading characteristic of the school of Antioch was the orien- tal tendency it displayed to separate the human from the divine. The tie which united them, however it may have been viewed, did not spring out of the natu- ral kinship of the human with the divine, — a kinship always existing, but revealed in the splendor of its perfection in Christ. In the Antiochian theology there was a disposition to regard the nexus between the Deity and humanity as the arbitrary exertion of the divine power, by which natures incongruous and in- compatible in their essence had been brought together in an artificial alliance rather than a living union. Beneath this conception of the relation of the hu- man to the divine lurked the oriental idea of God as the absolute and incommunicable, for whom contact 1 Renaii, Le Judaisme comme Race et comme Religion, p. "0. 86 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. with humanity or with the world was by his very nature impossible. From such a point of view, the incarnation of God in Christ was not only inconceiv- able by the reason, but seemed also to endanger the well-being of true religion. Alius was the first to formally advocate such a view of Deity, and to follow it out in its logical conse- quences to the denial of the incarnation. Of his sin- cerity there can be no doubt, nor of his high moral character. It does not surprise us to learn that he was a strict ascetic, surpassing in this respect his Christian contemporaries ; for asceticism was a neces- sary concomitant of oriental religion, and had at first appeared in those sects and heresies claiming an orien- tal origin before it made itself at home in the church. The time in which Arius lived was favorable to the spread of his thought, for the Roman emperor had just professed himself a Christian, and the world was willing to follow in his train if only the one obnoxious tenet of the incarnation could be so modified as to reconcile Christianity with the principle of heathen religion. To this task Arius addressed himself in all earnest- ness, and with singular powers of influence and even fascination. In his theology God is conceived in his absolute transcendence as at an infinite distance from the world and humanity, and in his solitary grandeur forever abides beyond the possibility of communion with any creature. For the purpose of creating the world He calls into existence a highly endowed super- natural being of a different essence from His own, who yet participates to some extent in the attributes of Godhead, and is therefore worthy of being called a god. In reality He is neither God nor man, but stands midway between the two, as far below the one ARIAN IDEA OF REVELATION. 87 as He is exalted above the other. Because of the in- feriority and limitation of his nature compared with that of Deity, He is not able to perfectly comprehend the character of God. What He sees and knows of God is after a measure proportionate to His capacity, and the revelation which He imparts to man is still further reduced and limited by the weakness of human faculties. God therefore remains in His inmost char- acter unknown and unknowable ; revelation becomes a regulative principle of conduct, but is no longer a ground for communion between the human and the di- vine. Union with Deity, according to such a theology, is impossible. The supernatural being whom Alius sets forth as a mediator between God and man, does not unite but separates them, for He serves to reveal the infinite impassable gulf that lies between them. The system of Arius was in its principle a reversion to Jewish deism, as if it had been the highest type of human thought concerning the nature of Deity. But it was also a system inferior to Judaism and even to Mohammedanism, for it was weakened rather than strengthened by its adherence to Christ at all. In Jewish and Mohammedan theology the world is at least created directly by God Himself, whereas accord- ing to Arius, creation is the work of a being inferior to God. The door was thus opened for a return to poly- theism, and there was no obstacle to the introduction of many such beings, inferior to God and yet higher than man, who should serve as intermediaries in the economy of external nature or of the spiritual life. If it seems strange that a system like this could have grown up within the church and have spread far and wide, it is only necessary to recall how strong was the hold of the dying heathenism over the im- 88 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. agination, or how, at a later time, Islamism snatched away a vast Christian population and took possession of what had once been the fairest possessions of eastern Christendom. In both cases the rationale of the process was the same. Humanity, overcome with the sense of sin, and struck with fear and terror as it contemplated the judgments of God in the world, was under the control of motives bred by a diseased and guilty conscience in its thought of God, and could not accept the pure consciousness of Christ, with his filial love and perfect truth toward the Father, as the normal principle of true religion. Rather than ac- cept it, men adopted methods of their own by which to overcome the divine wrath, or acquiesced in any arrangement, however superficial, by which the con- sequences of sin might be evaded. Such was the principle of Judaism, in its popular aspects a religion in which God was believed to be propitiated by sacri- fices. Such was Mohammedanism, with its doctrine of election, in which the followers of the prophet took refuge as a shelter from the waves of the divine anger ; and akin to them was Arianism, — a symptom that the popular Christianity was shifting its basis from love to fear, and was thus endangering what was highest and most distinctive in the religion of Christ. Whether God was present or absent, whether humanity had been redeemed or still lay under the curse of sin, whether the incarnation had revealed the inmost nature of God, as written in the nature of man, or the revelation made by Christ was an official code of duty promulgated by some high celestial am- bassador, — such were the issues involved in the Arian controversy. The excitement which shook the church as if to its ATHANAS1AN DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY. 89 very foundations, and which threatened to destroy its unity, on which Constantine rested his hopes for the consolidation of the empire, indicates the gravity of the crisis which the teaching of Arius had precipi- tated. In this critical hour, it was not Koine that came to the rescue. She was as silent, it has been said, as St. Peter at the door of Caiaphas when Christ was delivered up to the power of the High Priest. It was a Greek theologian, going forth from the home of Greek theology, who uttered the word to which the heart of the church ultimately responded. According to Athanasius, the Christian revelation is summed up in the divine name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Into this name, and into the actual and living relationships which it implies, those who accept the religion of Christ were to be baptized. It was the formula of benediction, the •ever-recurring refrain in the solemn and inspiring worship of the church. It declared of God that His essential character was love. Deity in the inmost recess of His being, in that mysterious background of existence, as ancient thought conceived it, whence sprang the divine consciousness and thought and will, was henceforth known truly and absolutely as the Father. The deepest and most endearing of human relationships found its basis in the divine nature, and received its consecration from an eternal prototype. The revelation of God as the Father was made through the Son. He who became incarnate in the fullness of time had been from all eternity with the Father, as His second self, in whom the Father knew Himself and saw Himself reflected. By Him the world had been created ; upon its constitution had been stamped the impress of the divine nature ; and • 90 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. in humanity was implanted the image of God, through which it was made capable in its totality of attaining the divine likeness. All things in heaven and earth live and move and have their being in Him, — the indwelling God, who is all and in all. In the incar- nation God not only reveals Himself to man, but also makes known to man his true nature and constitution. The incarnation is the union of humanity with Deity, and the divine life of Christ, who is the head and representative of humanity, is diffused through all its members. Humanity, in all its fortunes and aspects, is one whole, and as such has been redeemed in Christ, who carries it, as it were, in Himself, — in its sin and guilt as well as in its exaltation and glory. In Him the human race has died to sin and risen again to life and immortality. Life has been shown stronger than death, righteousness mightier than sin. In Him has been manifested the apotheosis of humanity, its re- demption, salvation, and deification. The incarnation made possible the life of the Spirit, through whom mankind becomes increasingly conscious of its relationship to the Father and the Son. The holy and infinite Spirit is the life of the Father and the Son as they are bound together in perfect communion and fellowship ; the work of the Spirit is to lead men to participate in this life which is in God. The Spirit abides in humanity as the law of its progress ; He acts upon all men ; but He in- dwells only in those who have been renewed after the image of Him that created them. 1 Such a conception of the nature of the triune God- head as existing from eternity and manifested in time, 1 On the immanent trinity, cf. Voigt, Jahrb. fur Deutsche The.oL, 1858. THE NICENE CREED. 91 demanded that its members should be regarded as in their essence one and coequal, and as forming together the one absolute or infinite personality whom we call God. 1 It was a result of Arianism that it showed to Atbanasius the nature of the danger which threatened the integrity of the Christian revelation, and the step also which must be taken to guard against it. As the tendency of Arianism was to separate between Christ and the Father, between the world and God, so the aim of Athanasius was to present them as sharing alike in the one divine essence, and thus retain the world and humanity in close organic relationship w r ith Deity. The word which he used for the purpose of defining the relation of the Son to the Father, — the 6/xoovcrto?, — was, to the minds of many even who did not sympathize with Arius, a damaged and sus- picious word. It had been first used by Sabellius, and then by Paul of Samosata, and had thus been identified with the heresies of a past age which the church had condemned. To the minds of the ma- jority of Eastern bishops 2 it still savored of the pan- theism with which it had been first associated. It was the one word which was most obnoxious to the Arians, the significance of which their dialectic could not evade. It was irreconcilable with the Arian trinity, in which three beings were loosely associated in polytheistic fashion. It presented God in the rich- ness of a complex nature, triple in His unity and one in His triplicity, in opposition to Judaism, with its meagre, impoverished notion of unity as identical with sinoleness of essence. o 1 Liddon, Bampton Lectures, p. 37. 2 For the attitude of the Asiatic bishops to the Nicene con- troversy, see Gwatkin, Studies of Arianism, pp. OO-'Jii. 92 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. The ofioovo-ios was admitted into the creed of the church at its first general council ; but it was not on the authority of the council that the church received it. The synod of Nicaea was the beginning of a long controversy, in which Athanasius bore the principal part, and in which the question was argued with all the subtilty of the oriental mind, — whether Christ was of the same essence with the Father, or of a similar essence, or of a different essence. The victory of the 6/aoovo-los was at last a victory of the reason ; it was the triumph of the Greek theology over oriental theosophies, whether Jewish or heathen ; it stood for the sign by which the church had overcome the heathen mind, as Christian faith had already over- come the force of persecution and the sword. But the Christian doctrine of the trinity could not have triumphed over heathen thought, had it not also beeu the fulfillment of all that was true in Greek phi- losophy. In the formula of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as three distinct and coequal members in the one divine essence, there was the recognition and the reconciliation of the philosophical schools which had divided the ancient world. In the idea of the eternal Father the oriental mind recognized what it liked to call the profound abyss of being, that which lies back of all phenomena, the hidden mystery which lends awe to human minds seeking to know the divine. In the doctrine of the eternal Son revealing the Father, im- manent in nature and humanity as the life and light shining through all created things, the divine rea- son, in which the human reason shares, was the recog- nition of the truth after which Plato and Aristotle and the Stoics were struggling, — the tie which binds the creation to God in the closest organic relationship. DOCTRINE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 93 In the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, the church guarded against any pantheistic confusion of God with the world by upholding the life of the manifested Deity as essentially ethical or spiritual, revealing itself in humanity in its highest form, only in so far as hu- manity realized its calling, and through the Spirit en- tered into communion with the Father and the Son. It is true, as has been often noticed, that the ancient church dwelt chiefly upon Christ as the indwelling Deity who manifested the Father, and that the idea of the Holy Spirit is not formally presented with equal prominence. 1 But it was necessary that the incarna- tion should become the full possession of the Christian consciousness before the life of the Spirit could be understood or appreciated. To the infinite Spirit it belongs, in the economy of the trinity, to lead human- ity into all truth. But the " ways of the Spirit " had yet to be disclosed more fully to the reason in the long and painful process of human experience, — the world that then was had to pass away, and a new world to arise, and grow, and reach maturity, before the life of God as the Spirit could be revealed in humanity as its actual possession, by which it shares while on earth in the glory of the eternal trinity, and moves forward to its destiny in attaining the fullness of Christ. It has been given to us to read in the church's history, since the new world in western Europe began its career, the larger record of the continuous divine revelation, and to trace the process by which the Spirit has been convincing of sin, and of righteousness, and of judg- ment. As we survey our inheritance in the past, we 1 For a summary of the views of " thoughtful meu " upon the subject of the Holy Spirit, see Greg. Naz., Oratio 38, De Spiritu Sanctu. 94 THE GREEK THEOLOGY. are unrolling what to the Fathers of the ancient church was a future hidden from their eyes. In the fresh enthusiasm of a great conviction, they dwelt upon the glorious consummation of all things in Christ, and were inclined to foreshorten the long perspective of human history. It is as though to them the words of Christ were more especially addressed : "I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now." THE LATIN THEOLOGY. Etenim cum deberetis magistri propter tempus : rursum indigetis ut vos doceamini quae sint elementa exordii serrnonum Dei. — Heb. v. 12. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. A. D. 14. Death of Augustus Caesar. 150. [c] Montanism and Gnosticism. 160. Apuleius flourished. 201. (?) Tertullian becomes a Montanist. 202. Irenaius died. 235. Hippolytus died. 249-251. Decius, Emperor. 258. Cyprian died a martyr. 306-337. Constantine the Great. 311-415. Donatist Controversy. 312. Toleration granted to the church 323. Constantine sole Emperor. 331-420. Jerome. 333. Jamblichus died. 374-397. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan. 379-395. Theodosius the Great, Emperor. 387. Augustine's Conversion. 396-430. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo. 397-407. Chrysostom, Patriarch of Constantinople. 412-431. Pelagian Controversy. 412-444. Cyril, Patriarch of Alexandria. 429. Nestorius, Patriarch of Constantinople. 429. Theodore of Mopsuestia died. 431. Third General Council. 440-461. Leo the Great, Bishop of Rome. 451. Fourth General Council. 485. Proclus died. 553. Fifth General Council. 622. Flight of Mohammed. 680. Sixth General Council. THE LATIN THEOLOGY. In the Latin church, theology was subordinated to the requirements of an ecclesiastical hierarchy. The Roman church gave birth to no system of theology. It devoted its energies from the first to the work of perfecting its organization and of exercising its ca- pacity for discipline and control. The foundations of the later primacy of the Bishop of Rome date back to a very early stage of Christian history. Roman con- troversialists have not been very far wrong in making the preparation for the Roman supremacy almost co- eval with the birth of the Roman church. During the second century, the Latin church was, under the influence of Greek thought, and for some time longer tho echoes of Greek theology continued to be heard in its principal writers. It was rather as souvenirs of a culture which had been abandoned, than as living and profound intuitions of thought, that Greek ideas appear among the Latin writers of the second and third centuries. However this may be, Christianity had come to the West from the East. It was Greek missionary enterprise and not Roman that carried the Christian faith to Gaul. The writings of apostles, the narratives of the life of Christ, had ap- peared in the Greek language ; even the ritual of the Roman church, so far as one existed, may have been in Greek, and the circumstance mentioned by the his- 98 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. torian Socrates, that during the first centuries there was no public preaching in Rome, may be explained by the absence of the vernacular in the Christian as- semblies. But it was impossible that the Greek influ- ence should long dominate over a spirit so deeply imbued with native characteristics as the Roman. In the course of the third century, the Latin language was generally substituted for the Greek, and the pro- cess began by which the two churches were to grow more widely apart, until all Christian fellowship be- tween them should come to an end. As in the history of Greek theology the continuity with Greek philosophy was not broken ; so in the his- tory of Latin Christianity the continuity may be traced with j)agan Rome in its religious as well as its political aspects. I. The early religion of pagan Rome discloses no prin- ' ciples which distinguish it in any marked way from other local religions. It has enriched in no way our knowledge of the religious consciousness of man. It was essentially a borrowed product, with no traditions of its own running back to the origin of things. It was a formal thing, consisting mainly in the scrupu- lous performance of a ritual. It did not stimulate devotion, or give rise to hymnody, or lead to mystic excesses. It rested on a belief in the power of the gods which, by the use of right methods, might be made available for the requirements of Roman ambi- tion. It was a religion grounded on fear as its motive and sanction. The Romans did not cultivate friendly or intimate relations with their gods as did the Greeks ; there was no sense of the constant nearness of a divine REVIVAL OF HEATHEN RELIGION. 99 benignant presence as is seen in Greek mythology. The Roman kept his gods at a distance, and avoided as a calamity the actual vision of a supernatural being. The chief innovation which Rome introduced into re- ligion was in illustrating its connection with the for- tunes of the state. Religion became an affair of the government, to be administered chiefly in its interest. When the conquests of Rome had demonstrated the value of Roman deities to the state, it was only natu- ral and fitting: that the highest officer of the state should assume a religious character, and, as Pontifex Maximus, preside over the administration of the secret deposit by which the priesthood deciphered the secrets of the future. The religion of ancient Rome, despite its lack of interest in theology, could not remain apart from the larger movements of thought, at a time when the hu- man mind was so widely occupied with religious issues. From the time of Augustus it had begun to recover from the disintegrating effects of the rationalism which had prevailed in the last days of the republic. 1 To some extent it had been clarified and elevated by the Stoic philosophy, so that it seemed not unworthy of the respect and devotion of a man like Marcus Au- relius. But the Stoic interpretation of polytheism, at- tractive as it might have been to poetical minds or to the highly educated, must have seemed to the mass of ordinary men like explaining religion away. The gods, as the Stoics viewed them, were no longer per- sonal beings, but rather impersonal manifestations of the presence of the universal spirit which penetrates and fills all things, so many different names, as it were, for the activity of the divine soul of the uni- 1 Boissier, La Religion Romaine, ii. c. 7. 100 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. verse. It was through the influence of Platonism, which had been made popular in Rome by the writ- ings of Apuleius during the second century, that poly- theism became once more a living belief affecting pro- foundly all classes of society. Apuleius proclaimed the Platonic notion regarding the nature of Deity and His relation to the world, a being who exists in sol- itary majesty outside of the world, who, having ac- complished creation by an act of omnipotence, secludes Himself at a distance from all communication or con- nection with it. Thus the tie which unites God to na- ture is broken : on the one side is God, and on the other man, and a vast abyss lies between them. To bridge this abyss, Apuleius employed as intermediaries the gods of ancient religion, — no longer names only for spiritual functions as the Stoics thought, but real ex- istences, who from their lowest form, as the demons standing near to men, rise by gradations to the throne of infinite Deity. This was the underlying principle which everywhere quickened polytheism into activity, the spirit in the air when the writings of the first dis- tinctively Latin fathers were beginning to appear. It was inevitable that in the transition from heathen- ism to Christianity, the influence of such tendencies should be perpetuated, and in some degree modify the character of the new religion. The practical bent of the Roman mind, the love of order, the genius for government, were destined, like the Greek love for phi- losophy, to find a home in the Christian church. The Roman Christian may have begun very early to dream of the possibility that his new worship might be a substitute for the pagan state cultus, — the Christian hierarchy standing in the same close relation to the empire, usurp the place of the sacerdotal machinery of ROMAN IDEA OF CHRISTIANITY. 101. paganism. For the empire itself the Christian con- verts continued to cherish admiration and reverence. To their minds it was doing a divine work in breaking down the barriers of a seliish individualism, bringing the nations into a common fellowship, and consoli- dating them into one great people ; extending to all, rich and poor, equal privileges under a system of uni- form law. This was also, as the Roman Christian conceived it, with the necessary modifications, the idea of Christianity itself. The religion of Christ was to him the " new law," and in obedience to rightful authority lay the principle of redemption. Latin Christianity gravitated naturally, as if by instinct, to- ward that conception of the church as an external kingdom which sprang out of the Jewish conception of Messiah, and of which the apostles of Christ had dreamed while they were striving about the places of honor which it offered. It is possible that a similar idea underlay the organization of the church in Jeru- salem, where James, in virtue of his relationship as the brother of Christ, became His successor in the head- ship of the messianic kingdom. Certainly thoughts like these were current in the Roman church of the second century. The Clementine recognitions, — the first Christian romance, as it has been called, — even though of heretical origin, is valuable as bearing wit- ness to germinal ideas which were afterward to ex- pand into institutions. Its unknown writer makes Rome take the place of Jerusalem as henceforth the sacred centre of Christendom, and St. Peter take the place of St. James as the visible head of the new society. Ideas not dissimilar, though in some respects more limited in their range, had occupied the mind of Ig- 102 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. natius, the Bishop of Antioch. Though not a Roman by birth or education, he had the same conservative anxiety for the welfare of the church as an organized society. In his desire for unity, the only guarantee of strength, he conceived each local church as having its hierarchy and its primate. He may be said to have given the first rough outline of what was later known as the apostolical succession, as well as of the Roman supremacy. In his scheme of the hierarchy there are bishops, presbyters, and deacons ; but the bishops are regarded as the successors and represen- tatives of Christ, while the presbyters hold the rank of apostles. Each local church was thus to reproduce the picture of Christ and his apostles ; to the bishop was due the absolute submission of conscience and will, as if to Christ in person, and the presbyters were to be attuned to the bishops as the strings to the harp. Ignatius (ob. 115) lived before the idea of a Catholic church had been fully recognized, and his conception of the church implied only an aggregation of highly organized ecclesiastical atoms, each one complete in itself, but without any visible tie binding them organ- ically to each other. This defect in his scheme was supplied b}^ the Roman conception of a hierarchy for the universal church, with the Bishop of Rome as the rep- resentative of Christ to the whole body of believers. The Roman Christians not only saw no incongruity in the church or kingdom as having a visible head, but could not understand the existence of a visible society without it. To think of the church as having an in- visible king with no delegated representative on earth, was to the Roman mind to leave it in an indefinite, in- tangible condition. It was not enough to talk of the real, though spiritual, presence of the invisible Christ LATIN CONCEPTION OF THE CHURCH. 103 as a bond of unity, the principle of all life and growth ; a divine-human fellowship of Christian disciples, — a school for learners under an invisible instructor, — was to the Roman mind no church at all. The church must have a visible centre and a visible circumference : the terms of admittance and of exclusion must be ex- actly denned ; the nature of the powers delegated to its officers must be explicitly determined ; there must be uniformity of practice and uniformity of opinion as well ; there must be stringent methods of securing obedience and subordination, — all this, and even more, if the church was to be the kingdom of God, a power of God unto salvation. Such was the spirit and aim of the Latin church as traced in the Christian literature of the first three centuries. If we compare the Epistle to Diognetus with the Epistle of Clement of Rome, contemporaneous as they were among the earliest writings of the post- apostolic age, we may note the divergence between Greek and Latin Christianity as clearly marked as at any later stage in history. The author of the Epistle to Diognetus is occupied with the work and person of Christ, with the endeavor to read the new revelation in its largest, most spiritual relationships. In the Ro- man Clement's writings, we recognize the familiar strain so often repeated in later literature down to our own age, how Christ had sent apostles, and apostles had appointed bishops and deacons, and how all this had been done to prevent strife about ecclesiastical offices. The supreme question in Clement's mind con- cerns orders in the ministry, the necessity of obedi- ence, and subordination. The contrast is further seen if we compare Tertullian with Clement of Alexandria, Cyprian with Origen, or Ambrose with Athanasius. 104 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. With the one class of writers the constantly recurring burden is the divine authority of the established order, the necessity of uniformity in opinion, the claims of tradition, the need of some centre of authority, the terms of entrance into the church or of exclusion from its fold, the power of the keys ; in a word, all that is implied in ecclesiastical administration. For these things it is not to the theologians of the Greek church in the second or third century that we must go, if one is impressed with their importance or in search of weapons in ecclesiastical controversy. In the Greek church we are in a different atmosphere altogether. By the middle of the second century a great advance had been made in the work of organizing; and consol- idating the Christian communities scattered through- out the empire. The idea had taken root of a Catholic church which, in its earliest form, as it appeared in Greek thought, was the fellowship of those in whom Christ had been revealed, or in whom He was uncon- sciously active ; in the Latin mind, an organization which was not to be cut short in its career by the sud- den reappearance of Christ, but as destined to grow and spread throughout the empire, was worthy of the highest efforts of the Roman genius for administra- tion. By this time also it is evident that the prin- ciple which inspired the Latin method must have already begun to yield its fruits in the separation of the clergy from the body of the people, in the grow- ing tendency to regard them as a sacred caste, as rulers of the church by some external law of divine right, instead of ministers and organs of the Christian community in whose recognition lay the foundation of all authority. Already men were beginning to iden- tify the church with the clergy, to regard the most SIGNIFICANCE OF MONTANISM. 105 precious promises of Christ as made to the apostles, in their capacity as ecclesiastical administrators handing down a deposit to their successors in office. That such a view of the church was repugnant to many, and especially to the oriental communities, is apparent from the protest made in the Montanistic movement which originated in the East about the middle of the second century, and whose influence was felt, not only in Asia Minor, but in North Africa and Gaul. It is not necessary here to enter into a dis- cussion of its character, or seek to disentangle its original purpose, so much obscured by the angry decla- mations of its opponents. That the movement was in some respects a retrograde one, that it cherished prin- ciples which would have hindered the spread of gen- uine Christianity, — all this may be at once conceded. It revived the old belief, which was fast dying out, that the coming of Christ in the flesh was near at hand, as the most fundamental tenet of Christian faith and practice ; it introduced a rigid and gloomy asceticism as a preparation for the disasters which would precede His advent, and by its false enthusiasm gave birth to much disorder. But the main signifi- cance of Montanism in this connection was its as- sertion of a truth to which the church had not yet awakened, or which was lost sight of under the in- creasing activity in the development of ecclesiastical order. The Montanists declared the active presence in the church of a Holy Spirit who, since Christ's de- parture, had come to carry on His work. It was the Holy Spirit, and not apostles, who was the true and only successor of Christ, the only prelate, because He alone succeeds Christ. 1 It was the work of the Spirit 1 Tertullian, De virg. vel., c. i. 106 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. to lead men into all truth, to truth which had not yet been discerned, to break down the power of custom and tradition when they obstructed the process of a fuller revelation. The organs through which the Spirit spoke were not necessarily the clergy ; any man or woman might be chosen to declare the Spirit's mes- sage to the churches. So far did the Montanists carry their opposition to the encroachments of the hierarchy, that women rather than men were their favorite oracles, and it is even possible that women may have been set apart to the sacred offices of the church. The movement was welcome to different people for different reasons. Irenaeus plead in its behalf because its doctrine of the coming of Christ commended itself to his judgment. Tertullian, after having been a Catholic Christian, became a Montanist, and found in the exclusiveness of the sect, with its rigid protest against the world and the flesh, elements that were congenial to the fierce vehemence of his natural tern- per. He never seems to have got on well with the Roman clergy, and in the freedom of the Spirit, as the Montanists proclaimed it, may have found an inward satisfaction never experienced in the Catholic church as he had known it. But Montanism was doomed to failure from its origin. Too many false conceptions mingled with the truth which it held : it lacked a spirit of soberness and self-control ; in its idea of the church as a faithful few, holding together till Christ should come to claim them as His own, there was no working theory to oppose to the ambition of an aspir- ing hierarchy. The church, however, did not fail to take lessons from a movement which, as a sect, it opposed and crushed. Some of the ascetic regulations THEORY OF APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION. 107 which the Montanists were the first to advocate, and more particularly the dislike to science and art, were domesticated in the Catholic regime. After the strong protest in behalf of the Holy Spirit, the doctrine could no longer remain unheeded. But Rome economized the doctrine to its own advantage. It was a crisis in the history of ecclesiastical development when it came to be admitted that such a Spirit as the Montanists described did indeed continue to bring gifts to the church, but connected with this admission was the strenuous assertion of Rome that the Holy Spirit was tied in His action to the hierarchy, and spoke only through its accredited representatives. The bishops thus came to be regarded as the sole depositories of the Spirit's presence, and in accordance with this be- lief grew up a theory that the decisions of councils composed of bishops were directly given by the Holy Spirit, inasmuch as they were given by the voice of the united episcopate. It was Cyprian, the famous Bishop of Carthage (ob. 258), who first enunciated this theory explicitly, who first distinctly taught the doctrine of apostolical suc- cession, giving to it a form that made it easy of com- prehension, as well as adapted to the needs springing out of the growing recognition of the Catholicity of the church. His well-known treatise, entitled " The Unity of the Church," may be regarded as the charter of the institution which was to be known in history as the Latin or Roman Catholic church. In Cyprian's view, the episcopate, which in reality constitutes the church, is conceived as an organic whole complete in itself, everywhere diffused and endowed with the di- vine powers necessary for the salvation of men. To be in unity with the bishop has, according to this con- 108 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. ception, a wider significance than it had in the mind of Ignatius, — it implies the larger relationship with the universal body of the episcopate, of which the local bishop is the organ or representative. The theory of Cyprian had its defects as a working policy, however it may for a time have commended it- self to Christian sentiment. It did not meet the rising demand for a head and centre of the church which should give to the episcopate an actual and visible unity. It asserted the equality of the bishops as the representatives of the apostles, but there was a convic- tion in the mind of the Roman people that the church was entitled to have not only representatives of the apostles, but, as Ignatius had thought, a representative of Christ as well. Cyprian's theory called attention, and that in a conspicuous way, to the majesty of the vacant place which in the days of apostles had been filled by the divine Master. The same method of ar- gument which Cyprian had used, in demonstrating the apostles to have been the divinely ordered rulers of the church, was employed by the Roman church to prove that St. Peter had been the supreme prince or pontiff of the apostolic college. Why else should it have been said that the church was built upon Peter, why should the power of the keys have been imparted to him alone, with the commission to feed the flock of Christ, and how otherwise explain his prominence in the first days of the church, and the grandeur with which his memory still filled the Christian imagina- tion ? Cyprian could not easily meet such an argument. In his view, the words spoken to Peter were addressed to him simply as a representative of all the apostles. But if Peter was a representative of the apostles, why should not the apostles themselves be regarded, not WEAKNESS OF CYPRIAN'S POSITION. 109 merely as the princes or divinely ordered rulers of the church, but as the representatives of a sanctified humanity which was larger than they ; and why should not the promises and commissions given to them have been given in their name to all Christians in virtue of their membership in the body of Christ ? If we may characterize the Cyprianic and Roman theories in the well understood language of political institutions, it may be said that Cyprian was arguing in behalf of the government of the church by an oli- garchy, while Rome was urging the principle of eccle- siastical absolutism, — the need of the impersonation of authority in one man. An analogy may be found for the relation of Cyprian to the Bishop of Home in the earlier political history, when Cicero, in behalf of the senatorial oligarchy, disputed the advances of Cassar to supreme authority. The same reasons which justi- fied imperialism in the state might be applied- w r ith equal force in behalf of its adoption by the church. The oligarchy of the Roman senate succumbing to the fascinations of Caesarism was a type of the episcopal oligarchy yielding its claim to the Roman papacy. II. In order to a fuller understanding of the work of the Latin genius, as inspired anew under Christian auspices it sought to create another empire and to go forth a second time upon a career of conquest, it will be necessary to dwell for a moment upon the Latin church in the presence of the intellectual and moral vagaries of heresy, and also to inquire what shape the object and goal of Christianity assumed to the Latin mind. To what end was the authority which she cre- ated subservient ? What motive inspired the growth 110 THE LATIN THEOLOGY, of the hierarchy and the submission to its rule ? What was the object in view of this vast elaboration of ec- clesiastical machinery known as the Roman Catholic Church? The one typical heresy which confronted the Chris- tian faith in Rome, as elsewhere throughout the church, was known as Gnosticism. Whatever the date of its origin, it was at its height as a phase of religious thought by the middle of the second century. While it is difficult to speak of the movement as a whole, since it comprised so many different systems, yet in its general outline it was unmistakably a reflection of that oriental tendency whose embodiment may be seen to-day in Buddhism. The sense of weariness of human life, the despairing pessimism which saw no hope for the future of humanity in this world, the contempt for external nature, the deification of asceti- cism as the principle of salvation, — such were the external features of oriental religion as it began to be reproduced in the West, and which in Gnosticism threatened to combine with the religion of Christ. In the second century the Gnostic Christians were asking themselves the same questions that Buddha had pro- pounded in his long reveries before he came forth a religious reformer. They were so impressed with the magnitude of the evils and the miseries of life, that they questioned the divine omnipotence, and wondered why the world should have been called into existence. All the Gnostics were agreed. that God could not have been its creator. He stood in their imagination at an infinite distance from such a scene as the world pre- sents. Bat having severed the world from God, the Gnostics, like the Neo-Platonists, endeavored to reunite them by a long series of potencies or beings who ORIGIN OF THE APOSTLES' CREED. Ill stretched themselves across the abyss which lay be- tween humanity and the supreme Deity. The lowest being in this line of intermediaries, in whom the evil was conceived as predominating' over the good, was selected by the Gnostics as fit to be the creator. Since the world-maker is not wholly evil, for he has some remote relationship to the heavenly sphere, there is still something in his creation which is capable of re- demption, though he himself is not able or disposed to assist in the process. In order to rescue the few souls who have an affinity for the divine, in whose composi- tion the good outweighs the evil, one of the higher beings known as the Christ descends into the world and makes known the method by which their salvation is to be accomplished. But inasmuch as the very nature of matter is evil, it was impossible for the Gnostics to admit an incarnation, — to believe that Christ had really taken a human body and died upon the cross. The historical aspects of Christ's earthly life were explained away as unworthy of a being who was divine. He appeared to have a human body in order that he might proclaim his message ; and the essence of his teaching is, that by ascetic practices a few may rise into the sphere of the higher, spiritual world, — the majority of men are doomed to annihila- tion or perdition, and the physical world to be finally consumed in a great conflagration. What is known as the " Apostles' Creed " is the simple but emphatic protest of the church against the Gnostic heresies, — the summary of that which was be- lieved or felt to be true as recorded in history or veri- fied in Christian experience. There were other sum- maries of a similar character, which, like the Apostles' Creed, had grown up after the middle of the second 112 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. century ; while differing in detail, they agree in their sub stance a^ expansions of the baptismal formula, and the explanation of their appearance is due to the en- ergy with which the heart and common-sense of the church resisted the errors which were fatal to its ex- istence. As we examine the Apostles' Creed with reference to its historical interpretation, the antago- nism is apparent at every point. In the first clause, — " I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth," — it is affirmed that God is not limited or hampered by an evil power in the universe which acts contrary to His will, and that this earth as well as the heavenly sphere is created by supreme De- ity, and not by some inferior or malignant being. In the second article of the creed, the words referring to Christ as " His only begotten Son our Lord," imply a rejection of the long line of Gnostic intermediaries who do not so much unite as sej)arate God from hu- manity. The Gnostic notion that the Saviour did not have a real body is met by the assertion that He was born of a human mother whose name is preserved in history ; against the Gnostic denial of the fact of His death, the time of His suffering is fixed by the mention of the Roman procurator in Judaea ; and in order to make emphatic the church's belief in the reality as well as in the importance of his death, it is declared with a threefold reiteration, — " He was crucified, dead and buried." The creed which thus arose as a protest against Gnosticism was afterwards extended to meet other needs of the church as they appeared in later ages. 1 As a confession of faith, it shows how strong 1 At what time the clause, " He descended into Hell," was added to the creed is not known. The clauses, "The Holy- Catholic Church, the Communion of Saints, the Forgiveness of ISSUES THAT LAY BACK OF THE CREED. 113 was the hold of the essential truth upon the Christian consciousness, in the presence of the worst skepticism which it could be called upon to encounter. In its Eastern or its Western form, it is simply the em- phatic assertion of the incarnation as the essence of the church's faith. But there were profound issues that lay back of the creed, which the creed does not mention. To these Greek theology had addressed itself in order to over- come the principle which made Gnosticism possible. The Greek theologians were optimists, not because they shut their eyes to the darker side of life, but be- cause they had exhausted pessimism at its source by refuting the principle in which it originated. They were not given to raising the cry that the church was in danger ; they were not alarmed at the rise of here- sies, nor had they fears for the safety of the church, because they accepted the incarnation not only as an historical fact which had taken place in the past, but as a living present reality, and saw the essential Christ always and everywhere exerting his spiritual force in Sins," were probably inserted in the West in connection with the Novatian schism after the middle of the third century. None of the above expressions are to be found in the rale of faith as re- cited by Irenams (i. c. 10, and iii. c. 4), or Tertnllian (De prces. Ticeret. 12, and De vir. vel, i.), nor were they contained in the creed as recited at Nicaja. The clause, "the Resurrection of the Body, " is given by both Irenams and Tertullian, but is want- ing in the Nicene Creed. It may have been a protest against the views entertained by Greek theologians, and was incorporated into the Eastern creed in the latter part of the fourth century or still later. The interesting legend that the Apostles' Creed was the verbal composition of the apostles themselves, each of them contributing a clause to the joint result, was first mentioned by Runnus in the fifth century. As a legend it embodies the Latin idea of tradition as the sole authority of faith. 114 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. order to make manifest the redemption which He had wrought in the flesh. The Latin church had no more aptitude for theol- ogy as a science than the Latin people had for philos- ophy throughout their history. Literary men could borrow to a certain extent from the philosophy of the Greeks, or adapt it to their own conceptions ; but as the Roman people created no philosophy, so the Ro- man church gave birth to no theology. A deep and instinctive aversion to all speculative thought, a desire for a definite faith firmly grounded on tradition as the only stable basis, a faith that could be as exactly for- mulated as a code of law, the slightest variation from which could be easily detected and exposed, — such was the characteristic, the ideal and ambition of the Latin church in the second and third centuries, and such they have remained throughout her entire career. As a matter of fact, it does not appear that the he- resies of the second century particularly disturbed the peace of the Latin church, or that they were dissemi- nated to any great extent. For the most part they originated in the East, and after they had become full- fledged were taken to Rome. What principally dis- turbed the Latin church was the existence of heresy at all, whether near or remote. It seemed to the gen- uine Roman mind a contradiction or violation of the Christian principle that heresy should dare to assert its existence. That principle, as the Roman Christian understood it, was an explicit and implicit obedience, which included within its range the intellect as well as the conscience. Heresy in its last analysis was simply self-will setting itself above the authority of the church, and thus endangering the external unity of the Chris- tian empire. Hence it was above all necessary to pro- AUTHORITY OF TRADITION. 115 claim a definite faith, and to maintain it by some tan- gible authority which could not be misunderstood or evaded. This was the problem to which Latin eccle- siastics devoted their energies. At first, as has been already remarked, the Latins received their theology from the Greeks as submis- sively as their ancestors had received their philosophy. But after the Latin language had become the vehicle of religious thought in the West, and the two churches had begun to grow apart, it became difficult to fol- low the development of Greek theology. And even if it had been understood and intelligently followed, it would not have been congenial to the Latin spirit, which so profoundly distrusted the human reason. What could Roman ecclesiastics, dreaming of a great Christian empire, do with a theology which rested for its sanction on so vague a basis as the Christian reason or consciousness, or how with such a principle could they meet the Gnostic and other heretics ? Even the " rule of faith " was of little value unless it were based on some more material foundation than Chris- tian experience enlightened by a divine spirit. If the appeal was made to Scripture as the final authority, the case was not helped, for Scripture was capable of varied interpretations, and had been already discred- ited by the heretics who had been the first to use ifas a refuge from their opponents. Irenseus (ob. 202) was the first among western writ- ers who combated the Gnostic heresies. 1 He had been 1 Tn his conception of the incarnation Irenseus is in full sym- pathy with the spirit of Greek theology, and has set forth the doctrine with great force and beauty of expression. He has been sometimes regarded, together with his pupil, Hippolytus, as rep- resenting a distinct school in which a liberal theology was com- 116 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. born in the East, and was to some extent familiar with Greek philosophy. Yet in his distant home in Gaul he had felt the influence of the Roman spirit, and his writings reveal that in the compromises of his thought the Roman principle was predominant. He used his knowledge of philosophy in reasoning with the Gnos- tics merely to point a moral. He had no faith in philosophy as such — in the reason as a divine gift through which God reveals His truth. To be able to trace a Gnostic opinion to its supposed origin in the teaching of some philosopical sect was sufficient evi- dence of its falsity. It is not surprising, therefore, that he should fall back upon the tradition of the church, descending through the episcopate from the apostles, as the best bulwark that could be raised against the danger of heresy. He formulated the idea of tradition so forcibly, that his memorable words have been regarded by the Latin church ever since as an axiom in dealing with the divergences of religious be- lief. It is possible that he did not intend to convey the meaning which later generations attached to his language, but as to the general bearing of his argu- ment there can be no doubt. While he admitted that binecl with an ecclesiastical tendency. While in some respects he stands by himself and cannot be classified, his real affinity was with the West and not with the East. He had no confidence in the reason as an organ of the truth, and accepted the Latin idea of the episcopate as possessing the charisma veritatis. His ten- dency was toward a legal apprehension of Christianity. Cf. Art. Irenseus by Lipsius, Die. Chris. Biog. The difference between Origen and Hippolytus has been clearly stated by Martineau, Studies of Christianity, p. 246. In meditating on the conjunction between Father and Son, Origen would think of the relation be- tween thought and volition • Hippolytus of that between volition and execution. ARGUMENT OF IREN^EUS. 117 the " deposit " of the faith might have been preserved in every church in which an unbroken descent of the episcopate from the apostles could be traced, yet, as he argued, it was preeminently the church of Kome by which the tradition of every other church must be re- gulated, because of its high importance as the capital of the empire and as founded by the two most glorious apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul. The apostolic tradi- tion, he further reasoned, must have been faithfully preserved at Rome, because any departure from it would there have been most easily detected among be- lievers from all parts of the church who were in the habit of meeting there ; and, therefore, since the tradi- tion had been maintained in its purity at Rome, all other churches are in possession of the faith so far as they are in agreement with the church in Rome. 1 The same line of reasoning was also adopted by Tertullian (Ob. circ. 220) in his famous treatise on the " Prescription of Heresy." He had been a Roman lawyer before his conversion to Christianity, and the legal attitude is everywhere apparent in his writings. He was always the advocate, holding, as it were, a brief for Christianity as he understood it, not con- cerned so much for the truth as for overthrowing the adversaries that rose up against it. From his point of view the church's faith was its property, and the aim of heresy was to weaken the church's sense of security resulting from long possession. Hence the receipt for dealing with the heretics was the legal argument that the church had a presumption in its favor springing from long and undisputed possession, which constituted its prescription against all new claimants. Or, to drop 1 iii. c. 3. " Ad hanc enim ecclesiam propter potiorem prin- cipalitatem uecesse est omnem coiiveuire ecclesiam." 118 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. the figure, heresy is simply self-will, and is instigated by philosophy, — the one source of evil against which the church must be always on its guard. Athens has no connection with Jerusalem, the academy with the church, or heretics with Christians. " Away with all efforts to produce a mottled Christianity of Stoic, Pla- tonic, and dialectic composition." Truth does not call for continual research and inquiry, — it is a definite thing, to be sought after until it has been found, and then all inquiry should cease ; just as the woman in the parable did not go on looking for the piece of sil- ver after she had found it. Away with the man who is ever seeking because he never finds ! The creed or rule of faith is the summary of all truth, and curios- ity should not attempt to go beyond it. Nor should the church condescend to support the rule of faith by arguing with the heretic from Scripture, for the Scrip- ture belongs to the church alone, and heretics should not be allowed its use, since they have no title at all to the privilege. The appeal, therefore, does not lie to Scripture, but to the authority of tradition handed down through the apostles and apostolic churches. Here lies the test of truth, the principle of certitude. Since Christ gave a " deposit " to the apostles and sent them forth to preach, no others ought to be re- ceived as preachers than those whom He appointed. Having been under the teaching of Christ, the apos- tles must have been fully instructed in all things, and were quite competent to transmit safely the truth as they had received it. The fact that St. Paul rebuked St. Peter for his inconsistency or cowardice does not at all invalidate the teaching of St. Peter. Nor did St. Paul have any superiority, as a preacher of truth, to St. Peter. The apostles did not keep anything THE METHOD OF TERTULL1AN. 119 back, as the heretics pretend, but handed on the entire " deposit " to their successors. It is inconceivable to imagine the churches which they founded as capri- cious or unfaithful stewards of a treasure held in trust for those that came after them ; nor is the value of this argument affected by the circumstance that the apostolic church of Galatia fell away from the truth, and " was so soon removed to another gospel " than that which St. Paul had preached ; or that the church in Corinth required to be fed with milk because it was not able to bear strong meat ; for if these churches were rebuked for falling away from the truth, were they not also corrected by the apostle ? That the trans- mission of the " deposit " has been faithfully accom- plished is shown by the substantial agreement in the churches everywhere. Variations and diversities in- dicate a corruption of the faith, and are the essential mark of heresy. The heretics are therefore challenged to display their record ; let them unfold the roll of their bishops, com- ing down in due succession from the apostles, so that the first in the line of descent can show that he was ordained by some apostle or apostolic man. Here lies the strength of the Catholic church, that it has apos- tolic sees which utter the voice of the apostles them- selves. There is Corinth, Philippi, Thessalonica, and Ephesus. In Italy there is Rome, which may boast a threefold apostolic authority. How happy is its church on which apostles poured forth all their doctrines along with their blood, — where Peter was crucified, and Paul beheaded, and John came forth unharmed from immersion in boiling oil. So, then, to conclude, the heretics are trespassing on a domain which is not theirs. It may be fairly said to them, Who are you ? When 120 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. and whence did you come? As you are none of mine, what have you to do with that which is mine ? By what right do you hew my wood, or divert the streams of my fountain, or remove my landmarks ? This is my property. Why are you sowing and feeding here at your pleasure ? This is my property ; I have long possessed it ; I possessed it before you ; I hold sure title-deeds from the original owners themselves to whom the estate belonged ; I am the heir of the apos- tles. As they carefully prepared a will and testament and committed it to a trust, even so I hold it. Such was the argument of Tertullian in his "Pre- scription of Heretics." The book was probably writ- ten in the early part of his life ; after he became a Montanist he ceased to make so much of apostles as successors of Christ, and dwelt upon the work of a divine spirit, whose office is to break down custom and routine as the sanctions of truth, and to lead men into a deeper knowledge of the things of God. But the argument of the Prescription was too clear and valu- able, too much in accordance with the genius of the Roman church, to be laid aside because its author had become recreant to its significance. Of all the writ- ings of Tertullian, it was the one most deeply studied in later ages, the favorite treatise with ecclesiastics who have aimed to revive the authority of the church or resist the encroachments of the reason. In the early church it marked an important step in the pro- cess by which the authority of the episcopate was cre- ated as a means of overcoming heresy. Like the argument of Irenseus, it tended naturally to build up the supremacy of the see of Rome, for it was a method which found its most emphatic illustration in pointing to the one church which was believed to concentrate in BELIEF IN ENDLESS PUNISHMENT. 121 itself the united labors of the most eminent of the apostles. The desire to rid the church of heresy was one of the causes which stimulated the growth of the ecclesiastical organization in the West, and gave di- rection to the peculiar genius of Rome. But back of this desire may be seen the operation of a yet more powerful motive. The practical purpose for which the church had been established, or for which Christianity existed, was not to the Latin mind primarily an ethical one ; even the obedience which the church required, or the morality which the gospel enjoined, were not an end in themselves but a means to a remoter end, — the salvation of the soul from the consequences of sin in the future world. The doc- trine of an endless punishment for all who rejected the claims of Christ must have been from an early period the underlying belief which gave the strongest sanction to the church's authority. At first the church had appeared as the community of Christian disciples held together by their love for the Master, and waiting for his return in order to be reunited to Him in His millennial kingdom. The fate of those outside its limits, who had not repented of their sins or abandoned the worship of idols, and es- pecially of those who persecuted the church, is por- trayed in the gloomy visions of the Apocalypse. All that the human imagination could conceive as most awful was the punishment in store for these when the seals of the future were broken, when the angels should sound the successive trumpets of human doom. This belief in a millennial kingdom soon to be estab- lished grew weak in the second centurv, and in the third may be said to have disappeared. But the vision 122 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. of a lake that burned with endless fires for the ene- mies of Christ, the tortures in reserve for those who persecuted his faithful followers, still appealed to a church that existed in the face of a perpetual ha- tred and scorn on the part of the heathens. It was impossible that recriminations should not be heard from heathens and Christians alike. The latter told their adversaries of a day of judgment, when the punishment which had been withheld in this world should fall upon them in awful severity, — when the final sentence should be pronounced which remanded them to the tortures of endless suffering. Tertullian grows eloquent as he describes the scene which he shall witness when that last judgment day, with its unlooked-for issues, shall be over. The vast spectacle which will then burst upon his gaze will excite his admiration, his derision, his joy, his exultation. He will see illustrious monarchs who had been deified on earth groaning in the lowest darkness with great Jove himself, and with them the governors of prov- inces, in fires more fierce than those which they lighted on earth for the followers of Christ. The world's wise men and philosophers, who had taught falsely, and among them those also who had denied the resurrection of the same identical body which they had left, these will be there, to be consumed in the body, covered with shame, in the presence of those whom they had deceived. The poets who had sung of a judgment seat of Rhadamanthus or Minos will appear at the unexpected judgment seat of Christ. There will then be a better opportunity than he has cared to avail himself of here, of witnessing the tragedians and the play-actors declaiming in a real calamity, the charioteers glowing in their chariots of MORBID TONE OF THE AGE. 123 fire, the wrestlers tossing in their fiery billows. Or if he should not find interest enough in such a spectacle, he is sure to turn with eager and insatiable gaze upon those who vented themselves in fury against the Lord. These are sights which no quaestor or priest can now procure a Roman audience the pleasure of beholding, but the Christian can even now by faith behold these things in the pictures of the imagination. 1 When Christian apologists like Tertullian were thus proclaiming to their heathen brethren a day of final judgment, in which they were to receive the never- ending penalty of their madness, we may admire the boldness which their speech displays, but we can no longer wonder at the growing indignation which was soon to culminate in the Decian persecution, in one supreme effort to root up and exterminate the Chris- tian church. A certain unhealthy and morbid tone characterized the spirit of both Christians and heathens in the third century. The decline of the Roman empire since the death of Marcus Aurelius (a. d. 180) was attended by disasters of varied kinds, often on an immense scale, — pestilences, famines, earthquakes, frequent de- feats of the Roman legions. The feeling that some- thing was wrong, that more fearful judgments were im- pending, took possession of the public mind. Under such circumstances it was becoming difficult to main- tain the conviction of the love of God. The heathens were cherishing a fatal conviction that the gods were angry because the Christians neglected their worship, and were visiting their wrath upon the empire. Cy- prian replied in the same strain, that God was angry with the heathens because they did not turn from 1 De Spec, 30. 124 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. their idolatry. The writings of Cyprian reveal how the popular theology of the Latin church was taking shape in one of the darkest moments in its history. The Decian persecution (249-251) had been followed by a calamity even more awful in the great plague which reached Carthage in the year 252, and is said to have destroyed half of the population of Alexan- dria, and for a time to have carried off at Rome five thousand people daily, lasting for some twenty years before its ravages were over. An event of this kind must have gathered additional horror when we con- sider how society was sharply divided against itself, Christians and heathens accusing each other of being the cause of the calamity. Cyprian sought to improve the moment by calling the heathens to repentance, but his method of appeal was calculated to embitter rather than appease the pagan mind. Like Tertullian, he portrayed the suf- ferings of the future world endless in their duration, of which the present disasters were a warning and a prophecy. He did not, indeed, exult in the prospect, but still thought it would be a compensation to the Christians for what they endured at the hands of their persecutors. In the history of theology his let- ters and treatises possess a peculiar value as bringing out his theory of life, — a theory now for the first time announced with dogmatic clearness and precision. The world, he declares in his "Address to Deme- trian," is nearing its end, and the coming of Anti- Christ is at hand. The earth has grown old and exhausted, life is failing at its sources, the sun is losing its heat, the rain diminishes, the harvests grow thin, the disemboweled mountains no longer }deld the precious ores, young men are born prematurely LIFE AS A PROBATION. 125 old, — everywhere he looks he reads the signs of decay and approaching dissolution. Meantime the church remains as an ark of deliverance from the wrath of God. The Christians may seem to share with their neighbors in the troubles of the time, but they who have a confidence in the good things that a future life will bring do not in reality suffer from the assault of present evils. To the pagans the church offers a refuge, if they will turn to it. But the op- portunity is brief, the end is near ; after this world is over there is no hope, no possibility of repentance. The pain of punishment will then be without the fruit of repentance, tears and prayers will be of no avail. Here life is either saved or lost. So long as one remains in this world, no repentance is too late. Death constitutes the line between hope and despair ; it puts an end to human probation. Hereafter a punishment devouring with living flames will burn up the condemned in an ever-burning Gehenna ; to their agonies will be neither end nor respite. Souls with their bodies will be reserved in infinite tortures for suffering. 1 When Christianity was presented in ways like these to the heathen world, when fear was becoming the mo- tive to the worship of God and the communion of the church, and salvation was escape from impending wrath, it was only a question of time how long the Christians themselves could maintain their faith in their own salvation. Cyprian's theory made life a probation for the heathen world, while those within the church had already entered by anticipation upon an assured •inheritance. But how were the Christians to retain this assurance when they saw the great ma- 1 Ad Demetrianum, 23-25. 126 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. jority of their heathen brethren passing to endless perdition, when religion was no longer grounded in love, and God had become a passive spectator in the struo-ole where endless issues depended upon the de- cision of an hour? To such an inquiry the answer may be read in the changes which were coming over the church after the middle of the third century, some of them in Cyprian's lifetime. The world was be- coming, in the Christian imagination, a theatre for the activity of malignant supernatural forces. The heathen deities ceased to be regarded as mere phan- toms ; they became real existences, demons in the air, which lurked in wait for unwary souls. Baptism assumed the character of a magical rite, by whose waters the soul was rendered invulnerable against the assaults of evil spirits. Connected with baptism from this time, as an indispensable preliminary, was the rite of exorcism, by which the evil spirit was first banished before the formula of the sacred name could be repeated. The sign of the cross was thought to be a safeguard against the thousand shapes in which the deities of heathenism sought to regain possession of the Christian convert. The dread and terror which had fallen upon this world began to extend to the next, and when men began to pray for their dead it was a sign that the old assurance had departed which regarded them as safe in the bosom of God. So far had God retreated from man that the gulf which divided them began to be bridged with saints and martyrs and confessors, to whom prayers might be addressed, through whose mediation with Christ prayers stood a better chance of being heard and answered. Influences like these began thus early to transform the Lord's Supper into a sacrifice after LATIN IDEA OF CATHOLICITY. 127 Jewish and heathen types, by which the favor of God might be propitiated. The clergy were a priesthood after the same analogies, whose function was to stand between God and the people, as the mediators through whose intercession heaven remained open, and the favor of God descended to man. The course of events in the third century tended to confirm the Roman idea of the church by determining how its catholicity was to be conceived as a working principle. A brief allusion to the controversies which were connected with this result will be sufficient. After the Decian persecution it became an important question what should be the method of treatment adopted toward the large number of Christians who had apostatized or denied their faith. Should they be received back into the church on easy terms after professing repentance, or should they be subjected to a severe, protracted discipline, or was it proper that they should be received back into the church on any terms, so heinous was the offense which they had committed ? Another kindred issue was whether the baptism performed by heretics possessed validity, or whether the rite must be repeated in the case of those who, rejecting their h3res} r , sought the communion of the church. The position of the African church dif- fered in both instances from that of Rome. The Montanist influence still lingered in Carthage, and even Cyprian, who had been a pupil and admirer of Tertullian, retained something of that stern old Mon- tanist's exclusive zeal for the purity of the Christian community. He was a Protestant at heart, despite his sympathy with the Roman spirit for order and administration. While he condemned the extreme attitude of those who said that forgiveness was impos- 128 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. sible for those guilty of apostasy, and therefore for- bade their return to the church on any condition, yet he insisted on a penitence and discipline which to many seemed too severe. In his controversy with the Bishop of Rome about the rebaptism of heretics, he vehemently assailed the invalidity of heretical baptism. 1 The purpose of Cyprian was to keep the church as pure as possible, even though such a policy should hinder its extension. Two theories of the 1 The Bishop of Rome maintained, on the ground of tradition, that baptism in the name of Christ only, by whomsoever admin- istered, possessed validity (Cyprian, Ep. 72, c. 18); while Cy- prian held that a true baptism required the name of the trinity, as well as its performance in the Catholic church. But how could the Bishop of Rome, so early as the middle of the third century, have made a mistake in so important a matter as the tradition concerning baptism, especially when, if Irenseus was right, Rome was the one place where any departure from the tradition would be most easily detected, and whose possession of such safeguards made the Roman church the best custodian of tradition ? Firmilian, Bishop of Csesarea, in a letter to Cyprian, gets over the difficulty by alleging that Rome was not specially distinguished for maintaining the traditions of the apostles. But if Rome did not keep the traditions, what apostolic see could be depended upon to do so; and then what becomes of the argu- ment from tradition ? Firmilian went on further, in the same epistle, to say that the Bishop of Rome, not content with the one rock on which the foundation of the church was laid, had intro- duced many other rocks, and indeed, by his innovations, had abolished the rock on which he claimed to rest as the successor of Peter. For this famous epistle, which patristic scholars in the Roman church have never sought to make easily accessible, see Routh, Scrip. Ecclesiasticor. Opusc, i. pp. 235, 243. It is a curious fact in the history of baptism, that in the ninth century Pope Nicholas I. should have again taken the ground oi the Roman bishop in the third century and have declared bap- tism in the name of Christ only to be valid. Labbe, Concilia? viii. p. 548. ACCESSION OF CONSTANTINE. 129 church were contending in his mind, one of which made it consist in the clergy, the other in the body of the faithful, and to neither view did he give unquali- fied approval. It was quite otherwise with the au- thorities at Rome. They rejected by a sure instinct whatever conflicted with the idea of the church as an entity in itself existing independently of those within its fold. A stable, divinely ordered society, as Rome conceived it, could only exist and grow on condition that the mode of entrance should be easy and the gates of admission stand open to all postulants. The demands which it made upon its members should not be too rigid or exacting, and in case of failure or apostasy the terms of restoration must not be severe. Against the restrictions which Cyprian imposed, the Roman church contended, in the interest of a more comprehensive and flexible organization, though at the expense of the spiritual claims which marked the early Christian communities. The Roman policy was bringing the church nearer to the world by lessening the difference that divided them, — its result was to make the church accessible and attractive to the great multitude of pagans who were incapable of inheriting its spiritual heritage. III. The accession of Constantine in the early part of the fourth century marks a new era not only in the history of the church but also in the fortunes of the- ology. No greater change can be conceived than took place when the once persecuted and despised Chris- tian community first realized that it had superseded the old paganism, that the Roman emperor was hence- forth to stand in close relationship to the church as its 9 130 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. protector and highest representative. Constantine be- stowed a great favor upon the church by giving to it the recognition of the law. The church fell heir to the old pagan temples and their revenues ; it was freed from the burden of taxation ; its representatives be- came a privileged class by exemption from the disa- greeable duties which rested so heavily upon Roman citizens. There were no formal terms of alliance be- tween church and state, but it was understood that the church made some return for these favors so gener- ously bestowed. Constantine wanted unity above all things, and saw in the Christian communities a com- prehensive method of organization capable of being utilized for the restoration of unity to a distracted empire. It was his policy to exalt the bishops as the representatives everywhere not only of the church but of the state. One of the first effects of his reign was the realization of the external unity of Christendom in a formal and imposing manner. When the contro- versy arose over the teaching of Arius, and it seemed as though the empire itself was shaken in the excite- ment which rent the church, a great synod of bishops w r as held at Nicaea (325), which not merely disposed of the question in dispute, but illustrated the glory of the church's external unity in a way calculated to for- ever enthrall the Christian imagination. It had been the work of the Latin church to per- fect and establish the ecclesiastical organization, and the church in the East had received and exemplified the theory which Cyprian had been the first to enun- ciate, of the solidarity of the episcopate. The doctrine of the trinity, the formula of which had resulted from the alliance of Greek philosophy with Christian thought, had on the other hand been received by the THE NICENE CREED IN THE WEST. 131 Latin church from the hands of Greek theologians. 1 The doctrine came to the Latin church in the shape which it preferred, — a dogma put forth upon author- ity. It is doubtful whether the Latins appreciated always the process of speculative thought by which the doctrine of the trinity was maintained by Greek thinkers. The opposition to the doctrine did not come from the West, but from oriental countries where the bishops were in bondage to notions about emanations, which prevented them from accepting easily the idea of the coequality of Christ with the Father. When this doctrine had once received the sanction of a re- putable authority, the Latins not only accepted it but became its strongest supporters. In the long contro- versy that followed the Council of Nicaea, before its decision gained the voluntary recognition of the ori- ental bishops, it was mainly by a process of reasoning that the Nicene formula won its way in the East to acceptance. Athanasius declined to rest upon the au- thority of the council when urging its claims. But the Latins, who wished a definite faith set forth upon un- questioned authority, sustained from the first the deci- sion of Nicaea as final and unchangeable. What in- deed to the Latin mind would become of the faith itself, if a decision once solemnly rendered under the inspiration, as it was believed, of the divine Spirit, could be rescinded or modified by a subsequent dis- cussion. There may have been deeper reasons for the acceptance of the dogma, but with the Latins it was a question of life or death that the authority of the Council of Nicaea should be maintained. And it may 1 The only Western writer who took an important part in the trinitarian controversy in the third century was Dionysius, Bishop of Rome, and he was Greek by birth and education. 132 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. be regarded as providential in the divine ordering of history, that the one doctrine which contains the es- sential and comprehensive principle of the Christian faith should have met with such powerful and unques- tioning support in an age when reason and philosophy were so soon to abdicate their throne. The fourth and fifth centuries have been idealized by the worshipers of catholic antiquity as the halcyon ao'e of the church — as the actual fulfillment for once in its history of the promise which attended its birth. The church developed to a fuller extent its organiza- tion by following the new political divisions of the empire, and a graded hierarchy of bishops arose cor- responding to the grades of the civil service. As the state borrowed from the debased courts of oriental despots a ritual of great magnificence, attaching an exaggerated importance to form and etiquette, and by the symbolism of pomp and luxurious display endeav- ored to impress the people with the sacred majesty of the emperor's person, so the church also developed a ritual of extraordinary beauty and splendor. The church grew rich and powerful. Her coffers were filled with the voluntary offerings of the people or with the property of a declining paganism. Her bish- ops became personages of so great distinction that no officer of the state could rival them in power and con- sideration, and even emperors stood in awe of them as wielding a power which was greater than their own. Certainly there was something in the spectacle of such a church to awe the mind of the multitude into sub- mission. It is not to be wondered at that paganism hastened to abandon its discredited deities, that the Koman world became a nominally Christian one. But there is a dark side to the picture. The morality of MORALITY AND THEOLOGY. 133 the age was no better under Christian emperors than it had been under pagan ; the church had lost much of the simplicity, the purity, the self-sacrifice which had marked the era of her depression and apparent weak- ness. The records of the period are full of incidents connected with the ambition and rivalry of bishops ; schisms, intrigues, and scenes of cruelty and bloodshed attendant upon episcopal elections were far from being- rare occurrences. We read of them in Home, in Con- stantinople, in Alexandria, in Ephesus, in Antioch, in Jerusalem. If they happened in the great centres, we may be sure that smaller towns and cities were not ex- empt from the same disgrace. These things constitute the scandals of church history. There have been times when it was thought a Christian duty to pass over them in silence. They are alluded to here because they have a close connection with Christian theology. The want of charity, the hardness, the almost system- atic cruelty which had invaded the church, which were the invariable accompaniments of general councils, — these things hurt the Christian ideal. More than anything else, they were insensibly modifying human convictions about the character of God and His rela- tion to humanity. The high officials of the church claimed to represent Deity and to act as His ambassa- dors or delegates. In one sense, and that the highest, all men are called to the performance of the same function. Men represent God to each other, and if they fulfill their task unworthily the idea of God is de- graded in human estimation. When justice and char- ity and humanity prevail in the life of society, then God is most truly worshiped as He is. It is hard to believe in the divine love or in a righteous order in the world, when these qualities cease to be reflected in 134 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. the institutions which have the moulding of human character. The moral deterioration which marked the fourth and fifth centuries had affected the state before it reached the church. It may not have been possible for the church to resist the fatal influences which were undermining the strength of the ancient civilization. Roman imperialism from the time of Constantine, and largely in consequence of his policy, had become an in- creasing burden, crushing out the life and spirit of the people. It had destroyed all vestiges of self-govern- ment, and had substituted an elaborate machinery which had to be maintained by force and at great expense, and which had become identified in the public mind with an odious, exacting tyranny. The condi- tions of human life under such a regime were growing cheerless and unattractive. The future held out no prospect of improvement. The dark cloud which had hovered over the empire for two centuries was now closing in around it and was portentous of fearful dis- asters. The barbarians had already, in the latter part of the fourth century, gained a footing within the em- pire, and no occasional victories on the side of the Roman armies did more than postpone the evil day. It is not surprising therefore that Christian people should have fled from the cities into the desert, in the hope of realizing there a vision of the kingdom of God. They fled from a church that was becoming corrupt, from a civilization that was dying, from a state of society of whose improvement they despaired. But it does not appear that they carried with them in their flight any higher or truer conception of the Deity by whose fear they were moved, to whom they wished to render a more acceptable service. The INTELLECTUAL DECLINE. 135 true fear of God, which constitutes the motive of the religious life, was assuming the shape of a wild and superstitious terror, such as afterwards fell upon the races that responded to the call of Mohammed. The process of decline may be seen in the famous school of heathen philosophy at Alexandria. The earlier Neo-Platonists had resisted bravely the en- croachments of orientalism when they first appeared in the Gnostic sects. In the spirit of Plato, they had tried to view the world as everywhere instinct with a divine life. Inheriting as they did the peculiar qual- ity of Hellenic culture, nothing could be more obnox- ious to them than the anathema which the Gnostics flung upon the whole creation. Jamblichus and Pro- clus, their successors, not only failed to sustain the high intellectual tone of their predecessors, but showed the debasing influence of the age in their disposition to put magic and theurgy in the place of the ethical and intellectual effort by which, according to earlier Neo- Platonism, elect souls might rise to the vision and communion of the gods. Christian theology shared in the decline which had overtaken Greek philosophy. The theological school of Alexandria, which had main- tained itself in great wealth of intellectual and spirit- ual power for more than a hundred years, ceased to lead the church in the East after the fourth century. As Alexandria declined there was rising in Antioch another school, marked by a different tendency and occupied with other issues. Its leading theologians, Chrysostom, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Theodoret, still bore the impress of their Greek teachers, and still held in reverence the name and labors of Origen, how- ever much they differed in their methods. But they lived in an age when tradition was fast usurping the 136 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. place of free inquiry in theology. 1 The false and superstitious reverence which haunted the church as intellectual activity declined, — the last expiring influ- ence, it may have been, of the old Egyptian love of the mysterious for its own sake, — led the representatives of the school of Antioch in a rationalistic direction, 1 The time when tradition was first formally adopted in the East as a better method than free theological discussion for de- termining disputed points, dates back to the year 383, if we may trust the historian Socrates. At this time the Emperor Theodo- sius, thinking that a mutual conference of the bishops would heal the dissensions in the church, sent for Nectarius, the Bishop of Constantinople, in order to advise with him on the best method of procedure. In the emperor's opinion a fair discussion was the best means for the detection and removal of the causes of dis- cord. The emperor's proposition gave Xectarius the greatest uneasiness, for he was a man unacquainted with theology, who had been suddenly transferred from the army t» the episcopate, and in whose case it had been necessary to hastily run through the sacred offices from baptism to consecration as bishop, hi order that he might occupy his see without delay. Nectarius therefore referred the matter to Agelius, his friend and sympathizer, and he turned it over to Sisinnius. This Sisinnius was said to have been just the person to manage a conference. He was eloquent and possessed great experience, well read in Scripture and in philosophy, and above all was aware that free discussions, far from healing divisions, generally make them worse, and even cre- ate new heresies of a most inveterate kind. He therefore ad- vised Nectarius to fall back upon the testimonies of the ancients instead of entering into logical debates. Let the emperor, he said, ask the representatives of the different sects if they had any respect for the fathers, who flourished before divisions arose, or whether they rejected their teaching as that of men alienated from the Christian faith. If they took the latter course, they were then to be called upon to anathematize them, and the mo- ment they should do this, the people would arise and thrust them out. This plan commended itself to the bishop, and the em- peror perceiving its wisdom and propriety carried it out with consummate prudence. Socrates, Hist. Eccles., v. c. 10. RISE OF A GREAT CONTROVERSY. 137 and in opposing what was superstitious or irrational, they were in danger of limiting the truth of the incar- nation as it had been apprehended by the masters of Greek theology. f Toward the end of the fourth century there appeared the first traces of a controversy destined to endure with varying fortunes for three hundred years be- fore its issue was finally determined. It is strange that a controversy of such duration, absorbing so much of the thought of Christendom, and attended by such grave consequences, should have awakened so little in- terest in the modern theological mind. The long dis- cussion about the two natures of Christ, in which the opinion of the ancient church was so widely and deeply divided, occupied the attention of four successive gen- eral councils, while three schisms existing to this day, two of them of large extent, in Oriental Christendom, attest the inefficacy of conciliar decisions resting upon external authority to promote the harmony of the church. The christological controversies, as they are called, turned upon the question whether Christ had one or two natures : or more exactly whether the human and divine natures were in Him so closely united as to form but one nature, or whether they still remained in their distinctness, conjoined, but not in themselves united, and always capable of being discerned the one from the other, not only in thought but in the histor- ical incidents of His human career. Two tendencies can be seen running through the ages during which the church was occupied with the solution of this problem. One of these tendencies, which proceeded from the home of Greek theology, where the influence of Athanasius still lingered, regarded the human na- 138 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. ture as in its constitution so closely akin to the divine, that when Christ assumed humanity He did not take something in its nature foreign to the divine princi- ple : He rather by His incarnation revealed the kin- ship of the human with the divine, and the perfected human was therefore declared to be identical with that which was most divine. Christ did not exist in two distinct natures formally united or combined by some bond external to either of them, but there was one nature only of the God-man, and in His sacred person the human and the, divine were no longer to be distinguished even in thought, much less in the reality of His earthly life. He willed and acted, He spoke and thought, in the undivided consciousness of His unique personality, — a consciousness in which human nature was deified and identical with the divine. The other tendency, which proceeded from the school of Antioch and was most acceptable to the Western mind, was grounded in the conviction that the human and the divine were incompatible with or alien to each other, and were therefore incapable of a real unity, and remained forever distinct, however firm the con- junction into which they had been brought by the in- carnation. It is hardly necessary to remark that the age was no longer a favorable one for the discussion of a theme which implied so profound an issue as the innermost significance of the human in its relation to the divine. The controversies upon the subject were embarrassed by the passions and local excitements, so easily generated in the bosom of a declining society. As the empire grew weaker, the fragments of which it was originally composed tended to fall back into their original isolation, and national jealousies combined DECISIONS OF THE COUNCILS. 139 with theological differences to make Syria and Egypt so tenacious of their respective attitudes as to render a common understanding impossible. The controversies were further complicated by imperial or ecclesiastical intrigues and combinations. Popular instincts were invoked against theological distinctions. Such im- portant terms as nature and person were not denned or carefully distinguished. While some held that a nature necessarily implied a person or personality, others contended that personality was distinct from the nature. To some it appeared as though to assert two natures in Christ was to teach a double personality, while their opponents maintained that one personality might be the tie which bound the natures together. 1 The general councils, as might have been expected, fluctuated in their decisions, leaning now to one side, now to the other. The third general council held at Ephesus in the year 431 — to whose acts no moral value attaches in consequence of the spirit in which it w r as conducted — gave its support to the doctrine of one nature in Christ as it had been expounded by Cyril ; the fourth general council held at Chalcedon in 451 decided that there were two natures in Christ remaining forever distinct ; and although it protested against their separation in the unity of the divine per- son, it did not attempt to explain their inner relation- ship or the mode of their union. The fifth general council held at Constantinople in 553, although unable 1 It is important to bear in mind that the defect of ancient thought, as Dorner has pointed out, was the lack of the modern idea of personality — the ego as self-conscious spirit moving toward the fulfillment of its existence. The ancient fathers were feeling their way toward this conception in the use of such lerms as essence, being, nature, hypostasis, prosopon, etc. Cf. Dorner, Person of Christ (Eng. trans.), A. ii. p. 510. 140 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. to set aside the action of the fourth council, did what it could to discredit the decision reached at Chalcedon by condemning the great leaders of the Antiochian school, of whose attitude the Council of Chalcedon was but the reflection. And finally, the sixth general coun- cil in 680 reasserted in another form the decision of the fourth council, by declaring that as there were two natures in Christ, so also there were two wills, the human and the divine ; but following Chalcedon it did not recognize their ethical oneness, and contented itself with declaring that the human will followed and was subject to the divine. 1 1 If, as is generally admitted, the anathemas of Cyril against Nestorius received the approval of the Council of Ephesus, as the letter of Pope Leo received the approval of the Council of Chalcedon, it is plain that Leo committed the error which the fourth anathema of Cyril condemned. The two passages here given — the fourth of Cyril's anathemas, and the sentences from Leo's letter — are certainly in downright opposition to each other. The original texts are given in Labbe, Concilia, torn. iii. p. 958, and iv. p. 1222. They may also be found in Gieseler, Eccles. Hist, i. pp. 349-357. E5f ris Trpoo-dmois dvalv, tfyovv vnocrrdcreai, rds re iv to?s evayyeAittols kou airo(TTo\iKOLS avyy pdix^aai Stave/Aci (poouas, $) e7rl Xpiarw trapa tQv aylwv Xeyofxevas, $1 Trap avrov 7repl kavrov, KaX ras fxeu ws avdpwirw iraph rbv 4k Oeov Xoyov iSitctas voovfxevu> trpoadimi, ras 5e ws 6eoirpe7re?s \xovy T<£ e/c deov ivarphs \6ycv, audde/xa ecrrw. (If any one portions out to the two persons or hypostases the expressions in the evangelical or apostolic writings, or the ex- pressions used by the saints concerning Christ, or those put forth by Him concerning Himself, and shall assign the one class of ex- pressions as especially belonging to the man as distinct from the divine Logos, and the other class as divine to the Logos only, let him be anathema.) Quern itaque sicut hominem diabolica tentat astutia, eidem sicut Deo angelica famulantur officia. . . . Ita non ejusdem na- ture est dicere ; Ego el Pater unum sumus (Joan. x. 30) ; efc dicere ; Pater major me est (Joan. xiv. 28). SPIRITUAL CONCEPTION OF CHRIST. 141 As we review these long-enduring controversies about the person of Christ, it becomes apparent that their varying moods and results are the visible signs of a profound inward transformation going on within the church, which is to determine the character of Chris- tianity for a thousand years until another transforma- tion, equally profound and far-reaching, shall reverse the spirit and the bent of centuries. From the time of the Nestorian controversy, when the unfortunate patriarch of Constantinople protested in vain against the application to Mary of the title, Mother of God, a title heathen in its origin, and in its Christian use obscuring the meaning of the incarnation, 1 it is in- creasingly evident that the earlier and more spiritual conception of Christ as the divine immanence in hu- manity is disappearing from the church. The vision of the essential Christ as He existed from eternity, and as He still revealed Himself to the world, was giving way to a limited portrait of His historical existence in which His mother and His brethren, according to the earthly relationship, were rising into a prominence which Christ Himself had not countenanced. The woman who lifted up her voice in the crowd and ex- claimed, Blessed is the ivomb that bare TJiee and the paps which Tliou hast sucked, was now becoming, as (Therefore just as diabolical subtilty tempts Him as man, so also angelical ministrauts wait upon Him as God. ... It does not belong to one and the same nature to say, I and my Father are one, and to say, My Father is greater than 7.) 1 Upon the phrase, "Mother of God," as applied to Mary, Coleridge remarks : " An epithet which conceals half of a truth, the power and special concerningness of which relatively to our redemption by Christ depend on our knowledge of the whole, is a deceptive and dangerously deceptive epithet." — Coleridge, Works, v. p. 60, Am. ed. 142 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. it were, the typical spokesman of the church, whether in Alexandria or Asia Minor, in the East or in the West. The spiritual relationship was becoming subor- dinated to the relationship after the flesh, and the words of Christ were becoming unintelligible, — Nay, rather blessed is he that heareth the will of God and heejoeth it : he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven the same is my mother and sister and brother. In proportion as Christian faith was losing its hold on the essential Christ, with greater tenacity did it cling to the historical Christ. In proportion as men ceased to realize the divine immanence in human- ity, they emphasized the fact that God had once blessed the world in visible form, and dwelt with in- creasing devotion upon the historic environment of his earthly life. The worship of Mary, the cultus of apostles, became a means to this end by enabling the lower intelligence to realize more easily the historic fact of an incarnation, or to deepen the vividness of its apprehension. From this time the Latin church began to realize more distinctly her peculiar mission, — to impress upon the new races that there had once been a manifestation of God in the flesh. So long as that belief remained, the world was the richer for it; and though humanity went on its way groping in the dim light of an eclipse of the fuller faith, yet it could never again become so helpless or forsaken as before the advent of Christ. Whatever weight is to be attached to the conflicting utterances of the general councils on the subject of the person of Christ, one thing is clear — that they did not and could not control a mighty sentiment silently operating in the church, whose growth was stimulated by causes, the influence of which could not at the time THE SENTIMENT OF CHRISTENDOM. 143 be detected or measured. While theologians in the councils were carefully selecting their language in order to express some delicate shade of meaning, or were devising compromises by which the peace of the church might be obtained, the sentiment of Christen- dom was slowly gravitating to the conclusion that the human and the divine were not only distinct from, but alien to, each other ; and no assertion, however care- fully balanced, in regard to their union in Christ, could overcome the conviction that an infinite impassable gulf divided and separated humanity from God. The doctrine of the two natures which Rome and Antioch agreed in asserting at Chalcedon in opposition to Al- exandria, when it had been filtered through the ex- perience of later ages, became a principle of dualism which sanctioned the divorce between the human and the divine, the secular and the religious, the body and the spirit. The dualism of the two natures runs through all the institutions of the Middle Ages, affect- ing not only the religious experience, but the political and social life of Christendom. As a theological prin- ciple, it underlies asceticism in all its forms ; it creates and enforces the distinction between sacred and pro- fane things, holy days and common days, between the clergy and the people, the church and the world, the pope and the emperor, the city of God and the city of man. As a theological principle it reigned supreme from the time of Augustine till the age of the Refor- mation. IV. The most important event in the history of the Latin church was the conversion of Augustine in the year 387. It was the mission of Augustine to per- sonate the crisis through which the church and the 144 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. world of Ills time were passing. In his experience we may read as in a mirror the inward moods of the darkest and saddest age in human history. All the sinister tendencies which had been gathering strength for generations met in his mind. The decline of the Roman empire, which had become so evident that men of great capacity no longer looked to it as a sphere in which the highest ambition for usefulness might be gratified ; the decline of intellectual activity, accom- panying necessarily the decadence of human hopes for this world ; the skepticism which looked upon philos- ophy as a vain struggle for the attainment of truth ; the feeling that things were out of joint, that evils whose horror and extent the mind could not fathom were at hand, and could not be postponed much longer ; the sense of sin, which, in its crudest shapes as it ap- pears in history, is the inward conviction that some- thing is wrong in the relation of the world to the un- seen powers, and is drawing down upon it the divine vengeance, — these were the dominant moods of the age which gave birth to Augustine. He lived them out in his own experience, and became therefore the type of his time ; he reveals how other men were thinking, how the age itself was tending ; he discloses the inner process of transition from heathenism to Latin Christianity. He was as truly a prophet to the Eoman world as was Mohammed, two centuries later, to the Arabian races, — both of them struggling with the same great issues of human destiny. The conversion of Augustine is an event inexplica- ble unless we go beneath the surface of the conven- tional language used in describing it. One may read his " Confessions," and feel that the secret of the change has evaded him. As in all similar cases, when- CONVERSION OF AUGUSTINE. 145 ever they occur, the actor himself is not capable of giving an intelligible explanation of that which has befallen him. The full significance of Augustine's conversion becomes apparent only when we follow his career to its close, or interpret it in the institutions upon which he impressed his convictions. The outward life of Augustine before his conversion was the ordinary life of a young and ambitious Ro- man, looking forward to success and distinction in the customary ways, except that he possessed extraordi- nary talents which seemed to promise an unusually brilliant career. Despite the sins of his earlier years and of a certain want of honor and sensitiveness in his relationships which still appears strange to us, not- withstanding our allowance for the social usages of an age very unlike our own, there was also something in Augustine's early life which represents the serious bent of his nature. He was interested in the search for truth and studied Greek philosophy as a means to its attainment. That which most of all attracted him in the problems of human thought was the question! concerning the origin of evil. It was therefore a sig- nificant fact that in his early life he became a Mani- chsean and for nine years remained a member of this sect, or till he had reached the age of thirty. In the dualism of the Manichaean theosophy, which explained the predominance of evil by the existence of an evil deity, who from all eternity combated the good deity and who furnished the larger part of the material out of which the world had been made, there was some- thing which appealed to the darker moods of thought- ful men in the fourth century. Manichgeism was in no respect a Christian system of thought, although it had adopted a Christian nomenclature, and it showed its 10 146 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. divergence from the Christian idea in another respect by denying the redemption of humanity in Christ. Such a world as this was incapable of being redeemed, — the only hope was in a principle of election by which a few might be saved. Even though Augustine turned away from such teaching and believed he had renounced it, it was im- possible that it should not have left its traces stamped indelibly upon his mind, to reappear again under other forms, in different combinations. The next stasre in his mental career was one of skepticism, in which he doubted if the reason was capable of attaining the truth. It was in this mood, which extended over some five years of his life, that he went to Milan about the year 384, in the exercise of his profession as a teacher of rhetoric. So far, his life from a human point of view had not been successful ; he had not achieved the wealth or the honor which he was entitled to expect; his mind was in a perturbed unsettled condi- tion, ready to receive the strongest influence that could be brought to bear upon it. His familiarity with dif- ferent phases of thought, the various changes which he had already gone through in his mental experience, the profound dissatisfaction which he felt with himself and with the world, — these things were undermining his intellectual integrity. For such a man whose will was weak and whose passions were powerful, whose strength lay chiefly in the life of the emotions, who had no canon for the recognition of truth, whose intel- lectual stability had been shaken by so many changes of opinion, there was but one resort at last, — to fall back upon some external authority, if any such existed v powerful enough to subdue the intellect, to open up a channel for the emotions, and to hold the will to a definite purpose. ABANDONMENT OF THE REASON. 147 Hitherto Augustine does not seem to have had much respect for the church ; it probably appeared to him as to most educated Romans as offering no sphere for thoughtful persons. That it had been the object of his mother's devoted love was no recommendation in his eyes, for it had been one of his principles to refuse to be led by a woman's influence. But at Milan, where the church was administered by Ambrose, it was im- possible that a genuine Roman should not be im- pressed with a profound respect for the power which it exerted and the future which awaited it. In the fact of Ambrose turning away from the service of the state to what must have seemed a nobler opportunity, was an indication that far-sighted men had ceased to expect anything from the empire and were looking elsewhere. The church was already undergoing a mo- mentous change, — it was beginning to grow into the state, as the state was tending to become a mere func- tion of the church. Already the church must have appeared as stronger than the state when a bishop like Ambrose could successfully defy a Roman empress and humiliate under his spiritual authority an emperor like Theodosius. Augustine could not remain insensi- ble to the spectacle of such a church and of such a bishop, — a predecessor in all but the name of the greatest popes of the Middle Ages. His contempt for the church gradually gave way to a feeling of rever- ence. As he attended its services and was moved by the eloquence of the great bishop, as he wept silently by the side of his mother during the singing of the hymns by the great congregation, a change was com- ing over his spirit. He was renouncing himself, his reason, his whole past life, in the presence of an ex- ternal authority, whose power and splendor awed while 148 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. it charmed his imagination, — a church in which truth assumed a concrete, tangible form for the practical control and guidance of life. There was an important step in the process by which Augustine's conversion was accomplished which deserves a moment's notice. It is a phase of his men- tal or religious history upon which he does not dwell in his "Confessions," nor is it difficult to understand why in his later life he should pass it over so lightly. 1 While he was still in Milan under the influence of Ambrose, he was also studying the Platonists as he called them — the Alexandrian school of philosophers — and was coming to understand how, by the applica- tion of their method to Christian theology, there might be a more rational and liberal way of interpreting the doctrines of the church than he had hitherto met. He admits, for example, 2 that there was one difficulty which he had to overcome before entering the church, — the crude anthropomorphic conception of Deity as localized in space, which he had always supposed was the Christian idea of God, — an idea which Tertullian had advocated and which was certainly the popular view. The traces of this earlier theology, by means of which Augustine sufficiently satisfied his reason while yet making the sacrifice of reason, are to be found in those of his writings which were produced in the years immediately following his conversion, — before the ne- cessities of ecclesiastical administration in the see of Hippo had revolutionized his intellectual methods or led him to economize the truth in the interest of the 1 Confess., vi. 5, and viii. 2. The Confessions were written after Augustine became Bishop of Hippo. Cf. Owen, Evenings with the Skeptics, ii. p. 173. 2 Confess., vi. 4. AUGUSTINE'S EARLIER THEOLOGY. 149 church, or to adjust it to the comprehension of a bar- barous people. In these treatises 1 he speaks like Athanasius, of Deity as immanent in the world, of the incarnation as the necessary mode of the divine mani- festation, — a necessity inherent in the divine nature, of the love of God as the ground or determination of 1 1 is will, of man as having power to read the divine charac- ter because of an inward light in the reason which is the evidence of the indwelling God, of the will as free and having power to follow the right, of the purification of the soul as the way to the knowledge of and union with the divine. But thoughts like these only served Au- gustine in the epoch of his transition ; in his later writings they disappear, giving way to a set of dogmas more congenial to the Latin mind, or more in harmony with the aim of the Latin church as Augustine con- strued it. For it was to the church as it had grown up in Latin Christendom that Augustine had been converted, and great as were the innovations which he sanctioned upon the theories of his predecessors, it was still to the Latin church as an institution that he consecrated the labors of his life. As he came in contact with sects or heresies which denied its authority or rejected its es- sential principle, his conception of it became more clear and dogmatic ; 2 and it may be said of his life- 1 Among them are the works entitled De moribus ecclesice Catholicce et Manichcearum, De vera religione, De libera arbitrio, and De utilitate credendi. 2 It was a characteristic of Augustine that he depended so largely upon controversy to determine his thought. He had not the constructive power of a consecutive thinker. The late Canon Mozley, who had made a special study of his controversial writ- ings and was regarded as having an unusual gift for analyzing character, says of him as a controversialist : " In argument he 150 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. work as Bishop of Hippo, that its predominant aim was to adjust social institutions and even humanity itself to the claims of a hierarchy divinely appointed to teach and to rule the world. Against the Manichaeans, with whom he conducted his first controversy, Augustine maintained the author- ity of the church to teach. The same argument which Tertullian and Irenseus had employed is again brought forward, but with the increased weight which two cen- turies of growth had given to the power and magnifi- cence of the hierarchy. Truth is a "deposit" in- trusted to the episcopate for preservation ; it is to be found only within the church, and to the sanction of the church even Scripture owes its authority. 1 The church for which is claimed such supreme authority is not the consentient reason of those who are enlightened by a divine teacher speaking within the soul, — it is the institution of which the episcopate holds the char- ter, which is possessed of a "deposit" intrusted to it by a power external to itself. The leading notes of such a church, as they were presented by Augustine to the was not too deep ; to have been so would have very much ob- structed his access to the mind of the mass, and prevented him from getting hold of the ear of the church at large. He un- doubtedly dealt with profound questions, but his mode of dealing with them was not such as to entangle him in knots and intrica- cies arising from the disposition to do justice to all sides of truth." In some parts of the Manichsean controversy "he re- turned neat answers rather than full or final answers." In the Pelagian controversy, " he did not allow the unity and simplicity of his answers to be at all interfered with by large and inclusive views of truth. To the extreme contradictory on the one side, he gave the extreme contradictory on the other." — Ruling Ideas of Early Ages, p. 255. 1 Contra Epistolam Manichcei, c. G : " Ego vero evangelio non crederem, nisi me catholicae ccclesiae commoveret auetoritas." AUGUSTINE'S IDEA OF THE CHURCH 151 Manichseans, are its power, its splendor, its miraculous gifts, its vast extension, its long succession of bishops coming down through the ages from the see of Peter. 1 Unless it had possessed these credentials, its author- ity would have gone for little or nothing with Augus- tine. In his controversy with the Donatists, the progress of Augustine in fixing the idea of the church is still further manifest, and there is also revealed the change in his conception of Deity which such a view of the church necessarily implied. The Donatists had al- ready existed as a sect in North Africa for nearly a century when Augustine was led to take up the con- troversy against them. They had their origin in a protest against the laxity which allowed the apostates, in the Diocletian persecutions, to be received back again into the communion of the Catholic church, and, in accordance with the view which had been held by Montanists and Novatians, they contended that the church consisted only of those who were known or be- lieved to be faithful. Hence they had organized as a separate community, calling themselves the only true church, and, toward the end of the fourth century, when Augustine came as bishop to Hippo, they were a formidable body in numbers and influence. In con- sequence of the persecution which they had encoun- tered from the Roman emperors, who had endeavored to extirpate a sect which disturbed the external unity of the church, the Donatists had assumed another principle, — that it was sinful for the church to depend upon the state for protection ; that between church and state there should be no connection whatever. A sect with such tenets could not but be obnoxious to 1 Contra Ep. Man., c. 5. * 152 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. one, like Augustine, bent on maintaining the undis- puted authority and unity of the church, and who, as a practical administrator of a diocese, was constantly witnessing the confusion and weakness which its pres- ence created. He was moderate at first in his opposi- tion, and endeavored by conciliatory measures to meet the evil. But it was a feature of Augustine as a con- troversialist, as it was, also, of Tertullian, that he al- ways appeared as a lawyer holding a brief for the church ; and it became his object to find some prin- ciple which would completely subvert the position of his adversaries. If it was successful, if it shut the mouths of opponents, such a principle was to him its own verification. In the case of the Donatists, it was necessary to assert, if they were to be overcome, that the church, by its very nature, must include the un- faithful and the wicked, — the chaff was inseparable from the wheat in this world, the tares must grow until the harvest. But such an attitude could not be maintained with- out going further, and Augustine seems to have hesi- tated before taking a step which, when once accepted and avowed, entailed momentous consequences. Au- gustine could not conceive of the church otherwise than he had first known it, — the majestic institution which had borne down his doubts and commanded the surrender of his reason, his conscience, and his will. He had taken the church as he found it ; he had ac- cepted unhesitatingly the dictum of Cyprian, that out- side of this church there was no salvation, — that lie who had not the church as his mother could not have God as his father. It was not enough, therefore, to assert against the Donatists the divine right of the hierarchy to an authority which required implicit obe- AUGUSTINE'S IDEA OF THE CHURCH. 153 dience on the part of those only who acknowledged that authority. The nature of the church demanded that all men should submit to its sway. The church was not placed in the world in order to offer a proba- tion to men, as Cyprian had thought. The idea of probation in any form was foreign to the mind of Au- gustine. There was rising in his soul the idea of God as a beins: who intended to rule this world, and did actually do so. To leave men to decide for themselves the great issues of their destiny was to leave God out of the question. The church was here by divine ap- pointment, and if so it was the divine will that all men should come into it ; and if they would not come of themselves, they must be forced to do so ; and if the church lacked the power of compulsion, it was the sacred duty which the state owed to the church to come to its rescue, and by the might of the sword " compel them to come in," that the church might be filled. 1 The Manichseans denied that the Catholic church was the sole depository of truth ; the Donatists denied that it had a divine right to rule the conscience : but there was growing up a third tendency which, as Au- gustine and others clearly perceived, denied that the church had any real motive for existence. In the sys- tem of Pelagius such a church as Augustine so rigor- ously and devoutly upheld was simply unnecessary ; it subserved no indispensable purpose in the process of salvation ; man could be saved without it ; the human will was sufficient to itself ; it had pow r er to turn away from evil and follow righteousness ; or, if necessary, God would vouchsafe His special aid to its assistance. Exactly what the Pelagians held, it may be difficult to 1 Epistula (93) ad Vincentium. l'A THE LATIN THEOLOGY. determine, 1 but it is clear what their opponents thought they held, or ought to hold, and this is more important to the course of the history than the actual belief of the famous heresiarch who personated to the Latin mind the lowest stage of intellectual and religious de- pravity. "When we recall the prominence of the church in 1 If the Pelagians were resting upon the same principle that Augustine had adopted, — the absolute separation of humanity from God, and yet held man to be capable of attaining salvation by his own unaided efforts, — their views were certainly most per- nicious, and would have substituted a sort of Confucian morality in the place of the religion of Christ. But it is more likely that their teaching was the echo of an earlier and higher theology im- perfectly apprehended, if, indeed, it was any longer capable of apprehension by the Latin mind on account of its inversion of the true relationship between Christ and the church. The contempo- rary Greek theologians could see no harm in Pelagius's teaching, and Greek synods declined to condemn it, — a fact which the Latins could only explain on the supposition that Pelagius dis- sembled his opinions. The third general council, it is true, con- demned Pelagius, but this seems to have been the result of an understanding between Cyril and the Bishop of Rome, by which Cyril anathematized the Latin heretic, while the pope gave his voice against the Greek heretic, Nestorius, who had also incurred his displeasure by sheltering the Pelagians who fled to Constan- tinople. Because they were condemned together, it has been thought by some that there was a subtle connection between Pe- lagianism and Nestorianism ; but there was in reality a closer connection between Nestorianism and Aujmstinianism. If the third council condemned Pelagius, it did not undertake to say in what his error consisted ; and the two tenets of Pelagius which were most obnoxious to Augustine, namely, that original sin im- plies no guilt in Adam's descendants, and that the will of every man is free to choose good or evil, have remained the teaching of the Greek church to this day. A summary of what the Pela- gians asserted against Augustine, as shown by their own state- ments, and not those of their opponents, is given in Gieseler, Eccles. Hist., i. 383. SIGNIFICANCE OF PELAGIANISM. 155 the history of Latin Christendom from the time of Clement of Rome to Augustine, we are forced to ad- mit that the same idea underlay the famous Pelagian controversy. Consciously or unconsciously it was the church, as the Latins conceived it, which formed the determining motive in the doctrines concerning the nature of sin and redemption, of grace and free-will. 1 When it is remembered that the result of Augustine's teaching upon these points was to subject men to the absolute authority of the Latin church, it is evident that this must have been also the intention which, however veiled, or subtly mixed with other tendencies, controlled his thought and influenced his conclusions. The church had already, before Augustine's time, taken shape in the Latin mind as a vast, pervasive, mysterious entity, a personification as it were of the hierarchy or episcopate, a living corporate existence endowed from without with all the powers, the super- natural gifts and grace for the salvation of men. In one sense, it is true, all men who were in communion with the Catholic episcopate were spoken of as the church. But in the most important sense, the church, as teaching and ruling the world, was not the people but the hierarchy ; the grace that saved was deposited primarily not in the congregation, but in the bishops, by whom it was administered to the people. Thus the church had taken the place of Christ as the way of redemption, and had become the mediator between God and man. Such a view of the church implied that the departure of Christ from the world was real 1 " The Auo-ustianian theology coincided with the tendencies of the age towards the growth of the strong sacerdotal system ; and the sacerdotal system reconciled Christendom with the Au- gustinian theology." — Milman, Latin Christianity, i. p. 172. 156 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. and complete ; that the episcopate was appointed to teach and to save as vicars of the absent Lord. The church moulding itself by a natural instinct after the empire, and reaching out toward the centralization of authority in the most convenient and practical form, must, like the civil government vested in the emperor, regard its power as derived not from the people as their representative, but as coming from a source external to and above them. In other words, Latin Christianity had reverted to a deistic basis, in which God is conceived as existing apart from the world in the distant heavens, regulating human affairs from without through the agency of commissioned dele- gates. To this church it was that Augustine had been converted, although the full significance of his con- version was not at once apparent, and for years his thought was in confusion in consequence of the lin- gering influence of a higher theology. But from the time when he became Bishop of Hippo, the ecclesias- tical leaven began to work most powerfully, and truth, as such, was no longer the object of his life. Before the Pelagian controversy began, he was seeking for some dogmatic basis by which to justify the claims of the church as a mediator between God and man, with- out whose intervention salvation was impossible. In so doing he was laying the corner-stone of Latin the- ology. When the Pelagian controversy was over, the Latin church was for the first time in possession of a theology of its own, differing at every point from the earlier Greek theology, starting from different premises and actuated throughout by another motive. 1 1 It is in his famous treatise De Civitate Dei, and in his anti- Pelagian writings passim, that Augustine's matured theological convictions are to be found in their complete form. THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN 157 The foundation of that theology was the Augustinian dogma of original sin. That doctrine was alone ade- quate to explain the existence and mediatorship of the church, or to justify its claim to teach and to rule with supreme authority. The dogma of original sin was unknown to Greek theology as well as an innova- tion also in Latin thought, though it had been vaguely broached by Tertullian and Cyprian, and intimations looking toward it are to be found in the writings of Ambrose. According to this dogma, humanity is ab- solutely separated from God in consequence of Adam's siu. In the guilt of that sin the whole human race is implicated, and has therefore fallen under the wrath and condemnation of God, — a condemnation which dooms the race, as a whole and as individuals, to everlasting woe. So deeply is Augustine interested in establishing this position, that the redemption of the world by Christ inevitably assumes a subordinate place, and is practically denied. Adam and not Christ becomes the normal man, the type and representative, the federal head of the race. There is a solidarity of mankind in sin and guilt, but not in redemption, — a solidarity in Adam, not in Christ. There stands, as it were, at the opening of the drama of human history a quasi-supernatural being, whose rebellion involves the whole human family in destruction. Endowed with a supernatural gift, — the image of God in his constitu- tion which united him closely with his maker, — he lost it for himself and his descendants by one sinful act, and thus cut off humanity from any relationship with God. In this catastrophe, the reason, the con- science, the will of man suffered alike; the traces of the divine image in human nature were destroyed. How then is the sundered relationship to be re- 158 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. stored ? What is redemption, and how is it to be applied ? The place of Christ in Augustine's scheme is not a prominent one, for humanity has not been re- deemed. Augustine continues to speak of Christ, it is true, in the conventional way, but he no longer finds in His work any bond which unites God with human- ity. The incarnation has become a mystery, — God chose to accomplish human salvation in this way, but so far as we can see He might have adopted some other method. It almost seems as though, if Christ were left out altogether, the scheme of Augustine would still maintain its consistency as a whole and retain its value as a working system. The reasons which led Augustine to deny the universality of re- demption were the same as had influenced Gnostics and Manichaeans, — he was oppressed by the sense of sin in himself, the knowledge of it in others, the ap- palling extent and depth of human wickedness ; these things to the mind of a practical Roman made it meaningless to think or act as if humanity were re- deemed to God. But when the Christian principle of redemption had been abandoned, there was only one other alternative, and that was to follow still further in Gnostic and Manichsean footsteps, — to adopt the principle of an individual election by which some souls were saved out of the great mass doomed to destruc- tion. The bond of union between this world and God is the divine will, — a will not grounded in righteous- ness or love, into whose mysterious ways it is vain for man to inquire, the justice of which it is presumptuous for him to discuss. That will whose arbitrary deter- minations constitute right, chooses some to salvation and leaves the rest to follow out the way to endless misery. In one respect the Augustinian idea of pre- PREDESTINA TION. 159 destination diverged from the Gnostic and approxi- mated the later Mohammedan conception, — it is a predestination which acts here and there in an arbi- trary way without reference to human efforts or attain- ments. The clearest manifestation of the divine will in the world, which is open to the gaze of all, is the Catho- lic church, the one divinely appointed channel through which God has decreed that the elect are to be saved. Predestination is to a process within the church. For although Augustine believed that outside of the church none could be saved, he by no means held that all within the church would escape damnation. Although all are to be compelled to enter the church, this is only in order that the elect among thorn who are known only to God may obtain the grace to be found alone in the church, by which they make their election sure. According to Augustine, sin has its seat in the will. The effect of original sin has been to so enfeeble or corrupt the will, that it has become powerless in every man to turn away from evil. The will is so firmly set toward evil, that only a divine creative act can renew it again after its original character. In this respect each man is isolated, and no man can help his brother ; exhortations and example go for nothing ; the enlight- enment of the reason is in vain, — only God Himself acting upon the will from without, by His omnipotent power, can break down its opposition to what is good, and recreate it after the divine image which has been ruined in Adam's fall. This creative act takes place in baptism. In this rite, the image of God is restored, and the soul becomes possessed again of that super- natural gift which united man originally to his Creator. Hence, in the system of Augustine, baptism acquired 160 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. a dogmatic significance which it had not hitherto pos- sessed, great as was the importance which had always attached to it. For unless the divine image is re- placed, it is impossible, in the nature of the case, that any one should be saved. Man, without baptism, is only a highly gifted animal, lacking the one essential quality which makes him capable of salvation, — of the divine communion here, and of the divine presence hereafter. Hence, for heathens and for unbaptized children, there is no hope in the world to come of ever seeing God. Their punishment may be a thing of de- grees, for those who have not actually sinned it may hardly be punishment at all, — Augustine was willing to be lenient where his theory did not suffer, — but it will be endless, and the essence of their loss consists in this, that they can never to all eternity come to the knowledge of God, in which consists supernatural bless- edness. The result of this belief was to make general the practice of infant baptism, which was not before Augustine's time the universal custom. 1 Augustine's doctrine concerning original sin and its remission by baptism, as well as his views upon pre- destination, were regarded at the time as innovations, as well as a dangerous disturbance of the faith of the church. There is no doubt that the bishops of Rome were in sympathy with Augustine's policy ; but in the course of the controversy there was one exception 1 Some of the most eminent fathers of the fourth and fifth centuries, though born in Christian households, were not baptized till they reached maturity. Such were Basil, Gregory of Nazi- anzus, Gregory of Nyssa, Jerome, and also Augustine himself. Gregory of Nazianzus would have still further postponed the rite, had it not been a prerequisite for ordination. The custom of postponing baptism continued in the East for some time after infant baptism had become the rule in the West. OPPOSITION TO AUGUSTINE. 161 among them in the person of Zosimus, before whom the case of the Pelagians was laid, and who declared that their confession of faith revealed no taint of her- esy, and that the whole discussion arose from a child- like love of innovation. Zosimus may have been, as is generally thought, a Greek, but he could not have called the doctrine of original sin and its remission by baptism, in the case of infants, a novelty, if it had formed a part of the Roman tradition and usage. 1 Theodore, of Mopsuestia, the greatest among Eastern theologians in the fifth century, charged Augustine's lack of insight into the nature of the Christian faith to his ignorance of the Scriptures ; he called his doc- trine of original sin a novelty recently set forth ; he reflected upon his lack of reverence and of true fear, in asserting things about God which human justice would condemn, and with which no wise man could agree. 2 But the most remarkable opposition to the Augustinian theology came from the remoter West, and was formulated by Vincens of Lerins, in his fa- mous motto, by which he sought at once a principle of Christian certitude, as well as a convenient test for detecting the innovations of error : " That should be held for Catholic truth which has been believed every- where, always, and by all." 3 Judged by this stand- 1 Cf. Labbe, Concilia, torn. iii. pp. 401, 403, for the letters of Zosimus to the African bishops. 2 Gieseler, Ec. Hist., i. 339. 3 Commonitorium pro Catholicce fidei antiquitate et universitate, etc., c. 2, Migne's Patrulog., toni. 50, p. 640 : " In ipsa item Catholica Ecclesia magnopere eurandum est, ut id teneamus quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus creditum sit." A par- tial translation of the Commonitorium was made by John Henry Newman, in Tracts for the Times, vol. i. p. 592, where it is in- tended to form a companion for Tertullian's Prescription of Here- 11 162 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. ard, the teaching of Augustine lacked each one of the three essential marks of truth. That it was the ob- ject of Vincens to controvert the great African father, though he does not mention him by name, is generally admitted ; but the latter part of his " Commonito- rium," in which he enforced the application of his principle, has been lost, and is said to have been stolen in his lifetime. The first part has ever since remained a standard exposition of what is called the " great Catholic principle." It is one of the curiosities — not to say variations — in the history of Latin theology, that the Roman church has accepted the principle of Vincens, and at the same time approved the theology which that principle was set forth to condemn. No point more clearly illustrates the degradation which Christian theology underwent at the hands of /Augustine than his doctrine of grace. Christ as the invisible teacher of humanity, whose presence in the world, in the reason and conscience of man, is the power by which men are delivered from sin and brought into the liberty of the children of God, gives way in the system of Augustine to an impersonal thing or substance which is known as grace. However it may be defined — and Augustine's use of the word varies — it is grace that constitutes the beginning, middle, and end of the way of salvation. There is pre- venient grace that makes man ready to receive the gospel, there is grace that operates to renew the will, grace that cooperates with the will restored, irresisti- tics. The notes attached by the illustrious translator have still a melancholy interest. A valuable criticism of the " Quod ubique," etc., may be found in Sir G. C. Lewis's Authority in Matters of Opinion, c. iv. The history of theology, however, is the best crit- icism upon this much vaunted test of truth. AUGUSTINE'S VIEW OF THE SACRAMENTS. 163 ble grace that insures the final triumph. In one as- pect, this grace may be defined as the will of God de- creeing the salvation of the elect ; in another aspect, it is a quality or spiritual potency deposited in the church or hierarchy and distributed to the people by the priesthood in the sacraments. What is sometimes called the sacramental theology is based upon the Au- gustinian notion of grace, — the principle that man is built up in the spiritual life by a subtle quality con- veyed to him from without through material agencies, rather than by evoking the divine that is within. For such a system Augustine laid the foundation upon which the Latin church in the Middle Ages reared the elaborated structure. 1 Even in Augustine's time, it 1 Augustine laid the dogmatic foundation of the sacramental theology by his doctrine concerning grace ; but he did not con- nect the doctrine with the sacraments in the same way or to the same extent as was done in the mediaeval church. According to Baur, his theory of the nature of a sacrament implied some su- pernatural affiliation between the sign and the thing signified : " Das Wesen des Sacraments setzte er in die Unterscheidung eines doppelten Elements, eines sinnlichen und ubersinnlicheu, welche beide sich nur wie Bild und Sache zu einander verhalten konnen. Das Vermittelnde dieser Beziehung ist das Wort." Dogmengeschichte, § 49. But the predominance of the idea of election in his system forced Augustine to modify what might otherwise have been a tendency to the lowest form of sacramen- talism. Cf. Epist. (98) ad Bonifacium for the famous passage in which he seems to endeavor to speak plainly, but of which the apparent meaning can of course be disputed. Augustine cer- tainly did not teach that all were regenerated in baptism, but only the elect ; in the Lord's Supper also, only the elect, in virtue of their faith, participated in the body and the blood of Christ, while to all others it was hut an empty sign. Such substantially was the teaching of Calvin. The leaders of the Tractarian move- ment in the Church of England were unconsciously asserting the mediaeval view of the sacraments and not the Augustinian. In- 164 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. was felt to be desirable that the number of the chan* nels or avenues of grace should be increased beyond the original two which Christ had appointed ; and had the sacraments expanded until they included every agency for good with which human life abounds, the evil in the system would have been in some measure neutralized. But here also, as in the sphere of doc- trine, the ecclesiastical idea was the controlling influ- ence, and the sacraments were ultimately limited to those rites which bound men in absolute dependence upon the church for salvation. 1 The effect of Augustine's views concerning the na- ture and consequences of original sin was to create a new dogmatic basis for the relationship between God and humanity, for the church, the priesthood, and the sacraments. The effect of these views is further seen in all that relates to human destiny in a future world. The doctrine of endless punishment assumed in the writings of Augustine a prominence and rigidity which had no parallel in the earlier history of theology, which had no warrant in the New Testament, and which savors of the teaching of Mohammed more than of Christ. Hitherto even in the West, ifthad been an open question whether the punishment hereafter of sin deed it was the recognition by the Privy Council of -the Augus- tinian view of baptism, as held by Mr. Gorham, that occasioned the stampede to the Church of Rome in 1852. 1 The development of the sacraments in the Greek church fol- lowed in appearance somewhat the same course as in the Latin church, but was chiefly influenced by the teaching of the pseudo- Dionysius and not by the Augustinian idea of grace. The sacra- ments have never been to the Greek church quite what they are to the Latin, because they are viewed in their connection with the living and ever present Christ, rather than as channels through which the priesthood distribute an impersonal grace. ENDLESS PUNISHMENT. 165 unrepented of and not forsaken was to be endless. Augustine lias left on record the fact that some, very many indeed, 1 still fell back upon the mercy and love of God as a ground of hope for the ultimate restora- tion of humanity. Tertullian and Cyprian, as we have seen, had used harsh language in depicting the endless punishment of sin hereafter, but they may be said to have been speaking rhetorically and under the influ- ence of excited emotion — under the conviction that only such a motive was adequate to move their cruel and hardened persecutors. But no such possible exten- uation can be pleaded for Augustine. He is the first writer to undertake a long and elaborate defense of the doctrine of endless punishment and to wage a po- lemic against its impugners. In the 21st book of his " City of God " he seeks to establish it by Scripture, by analogy, by dialectic, by its inner necessary rela- tionship with the scheme of God's government of the world. He rallies the " tender hearted Christians," \ as he calls them, who cannot accept it. The spirit in which he conducts his argument against the various classes of opponents whom he mentions, reveals how to his mind the doctrine entered as a necessary factor into the divine government, and was indispensable to the existence and work of the church on earth, which had been invested with the divine vicegerency. 1 "Frustra nonulli, immo quam plurimi, seternam clamnatorum pcenam et cruciatus sine intermissione perpetuus lmmano mise- rentur affectu atque ita f uturum esse non credunt." Enchirid. ad Laurentium, c. cxii. " The belief," says Gieseler, " in the inaliena- ble capability of improvement in all rational beings and the lim- ited duration of future punishment was so general even in the West and among the opponents of Origen, that even if it may not be said to have arisen without the influence of Orijren's school, it had become entirely independent of his system."— Ec- cles. Hist., i. 321, Am. ed. 166 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. The allusions in Augustine's writings to the purify- ing fires which await the elect in another world, 1 have been sometimes regarded as hardly sufficient to war- rant the mediaeval doctrine of purgatory which was deduced from them. But Augustine is the father of the system, and its later modifications do not affect the substratum of the doctrine as announced by him. For if here on earth humanity is absolutely separated from God by Adam's fall, and the incarnation reveals no essential kinship between them, but is a device to overcome human sinfulness, and otherwise would not have been necessary, 2 why should the mere incident of death bring man at once into the presence of God and the enjoyment of his felicity. The causes which have operated here to maintain humanity in its isolation, may and even must continue in force to a certain ex- tent hereafter. One can see that the dogmatic basis of thought and sentiment upon which the church was resting required, so to speak, that the church's influ- ence and control should follow men into another world, before they were made quite ready to endure the be- atific vision. Hence Augustine's hint, that the elect might remain for an indefinite period after death under the same penal system which held during life, was no mere casual remark, but rather an inevitable logical deduction. The doctrine of purgatory followed naturally an- other belief which had prevailed chiefly in the Latin church, known as the doctrine of the intermediate state. This latter doctrine in its turn was dependent on those opinions concerning the resurrection of the body which had been advocated so vigorously by Ter- 1 Enchiritf., c. 69, and De Civitate Dei, xx. c. 25. 2 Enchirid., cc. 33 and 48. ORIGIN OF PURGATORY. 167 tullian, and which in the main Augustine accepted. When the doctrine of the resurrection was understood, as by Clement of Alexandria and others, to be an im- mediate standing up again in greater fullness of life, there could be no such conception entertained as that of an intermediate state ; life here and hereafter was a regular and orderly progression under the guidance everywhere of the divine in-dwelling Word. But the belief in the resurrection as implying a restoration of the same identical body which had been laid in the grave, to which body all the particles which had com- posed it were essential, postponed the day when the dead should rise to the distant future. In the mean time the great host of the departed remained in a wait- ing attitude for the ultimate consummation. The idea, therefore, of a purgatory was, from such a point of view, an effort to occupy this waiting period with some definite purpose, and in some intimate way connect it with the life and work of the church on earth. In some respects, the belief in purgatory was an advance on the views of the future life which had prevailed among Jews and heathens, for it involved a moral principle and aim ; and further, the imprisonment was not a final one, — at some time the doors were to be opened and souls to be received into their everlasting home. But both the doctrine of purgatory and that of the intermediate state have a close analogy with pre-Christian views, whether Jewish or heathen, and bear witness to a lower continuity between Christian- ity and the systems it supplanted. Apart from the ele- ment of hope which inheres in the Christian belief, the future life, whether of the intermediate state or pur- gatory, recalls again the Jewish Sheol and the world of the dead in Homer or in Virgil, — a place where 168 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. souls exist in a disembodied condition wanting the richness and attractiveness of terrestrial life. To their brethren on earth their condition seemed one appeal- ing to sympathy and pity. Augustine thought they might be helped by the sacraments and by the alms of their friends on earth. Certainly, with such a be- lief, it was not strange that men should pray for their dead ; it would have been inhuman for them not to do so. But "prayers for the dead," as they were now offered, differed widely in spirit from that devout re- membrance and giving of thanks for the departed which had characterized the higher and purer faith of the early church. Then it was believed that they were safe in the bosom of God, in joy and felicity ; in the communion of Christ they had gone upwards to be with Him ; and even the lower Hades, since Christ had penetrated its gloomy recesses, could no longer hold its own, but yielded up its inmates to the superior world of spiritual light and life. In the change of be- lief on this subject alone is sufficiently indicated the profound transformation which the Christian faith had undergone in Latin theology. 1 In this brief sketch of Augustine's theology, his life has been alluded to only so far as it was connected with that system of opinions which he matured in his later years. In no ancient writer, however, does Christian experience seem to stand in such sharp con- 1 It has been shown by De Rossi that none of the earlier ex- pressions of confidence and hope, which are common among the few epitaphs of the second and third centuries, are to be found among the fifteen hundred inscriptions which belong to the fourth and fifth centuries. In their place appear the cold convention- alities of the obituary record, and utterances sometimes more pagan than Christian. Cf. Northcote, Christian Epigraphy, pp. 74-76. ESTIMATE OF AUGUSTINE'S WORK. 169 flict with formal opinion. When he writes from the heart, he still speaks to the Christian world to-day, as he has spoken through the ages, with an appeal in his tone which we are powerless to resist, with an ex- quisite charm in his language which we cannot forget. He lived in an age of transition, when the civilized world was passing in the West into a state of barbar- ism, and in connection with that fact his work as a theologian should always be remembered. He made the transition possible from the Roman empire of his day to the papal empire of the Middle Ages. The history of nearly a thousand years is summed up in his experience ; but it was, on the whole, a history which the world does not care to see repeated, valu- able as may be the results which it has contributed to secure to Christian civilization. It may have been necessary that the world should go back again to the " beggarly elements " from which it seemed to have escaped ; but if so, it was because new races had come forward to carry on the line of human progress, who, before they could appreciate the Christian revelation, must undergo the preparatory training of tutors and school-masters, — who must pass under the yoke of the law before they were ready for the spirit of life and liberty. The work of Augustine ministered to this end. All through the Middle Ages his writings were the supreme authority in the study of theology. In one respect his books served a larger purpose than the aim of their great author, for they contained the germs of more than one system of theology, and from him the scholastic theologians, who knew no distinction between his earlier and his later writings, gained glimpses of a higher and vaster system of Christian thought than that which came down in tradition with 170 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. the sanction of his name, — a system which they were debarred by their ignorance of the Greek language from studying in its original sources. He has been enumerated among the four great doctors of the Latin church ; but he stands facile princeps among them. Ambrose was a distinguished administrator and popu- lar orator ; Jerome gave to the church its translation of the Scriptures ; Gregory the Great illustrated, in a brilliant way, what service a pope might render to Christendom. But Augustine was great in that he may be said to have made possible the career of the Latin church. For a thousand years those who came after him did little more than reaffirm his teaching, and so deep is the hold which his long supremacy has left upon the church, that his opinions have become identified with the divine revelation, and are all that the majority of the Christian world yet know of the religion of Christ. The question is sometimes asked why Mohammed- anism, which swept over the East, should have halted at the gates of Rome, and never have succeeded in gaining anything but a precarious foothold in Western Eumpe. The answer to the question must take into consideration the work of Augustine. His doctrine of the church with which he inspired Western Chris- tendom proved the impregnable rock to the irresist- ible wave. The belief of Islam in a theocracy of which the prophet and his successors were the divinely appointed rulers, — a theocracy outside of which all were infidels and beyond the pale of salvation, — was met by the Latin church with a similar belief in a theocracy in which Peter and his successors were the vicars of Christ. It may be regarded as one claim of the papacy to gratitude that it stood for a principle AUGUSTINE AND MOHAMMED, 171 about which the crude sentiment of barbarous ages could rally, and thus prevent the surrender of the West to the religion of Mohammed. But it must also be remembered that so great a result was ob- tained by a corresponding sacrifice, and that Chris- tianity approximated in its inmost principle to Islam. We have traced the process of deterioration in the Latin church, and more particularly in the theology of Augustine. In his idea of God as absolute and arbitrary will in which consists the only ground of right ; in the depreciation of Christ, so that deism is the tacit assumption of the church on which its insti- tutions rest ; in his doctrine of election which differs in no essential particulars from the Mohammedan predestination ; in his view of grace which becomes an act of the divine condescension, designed to ex- hibit chiefly the power and glory of God, and only incidentally considering the welfare of man ; 1 in the 1 " Der Begriff der Gnade bei Aug. ist noch nicht bestimmt als Liebe Gottes fixirt; sie ist vielmehr so gefasst, dass die Creatur ihr als Mittel dient, sich zu offenbaren. Es ist in dieser Vorstel- lung, dass ich so sage, der gottliche Egoismus noch nicht iiber- wunden ; Gott hat noch einen audern Zweck, wenn er den Men- schen inspirirt, als den Menschen selbst zu vollenden ; er inspirirt ihn nur, um sich durch ihn." — A. Dorner, Augustinus. Sein theologisches System, und seine religionsphilosophische Anschauung, p. 212. " Mohammed deemed it a monstrous absurdity to suppose that the attributes of man gave him any peculiar claims on the con- sideration of God. But it was worse than an absurdity; it was blasphemy to suppose that man could claim any spiritual kinship with his Creator, that any particle of the divine essence had breathed into him." ..." God is called the Merciful and the Compassionate, not because love is of the essence of His nature, but because, though all-powerful, He forbears to use His might for man's destruction." — Islam Under the Arab, by li. D. Osborn, quoted in Clarke's Ten Great Religions, ii. 379. 172 THE LATIN THEOLOGY. defiance of the reason and the subjugation of man under the divine omnipotence, — in such features as these do the Augustinian theology and the faith of Islam betray a fatal resemblance. Did we look to formal theology alone, the history of the church would remain inexplicable. But Christendom has never at any time quite lost its original birthright. Even in its darkest days and its lowest estate, the fact has never been forgotten that God had once visited the world in human form, that divine love had been mani- fested in the sacrifice upon Calvary. In that con- viction, however much obscured or inadequately ex- pressed, lay the difference between Christianity and Islam, and out of it has grown whatever is highest and most enduring in Christian civilization. The new world that was growing up in Western Europe had been taught, and believed sincerely, that the Bishop of Rome was the vicar of the absent Christ. So long as that belief prevailed, the papacy was sup- ported by the sentiment of Western Christendom. When that belief died out, a new era in the world's history began. THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. Itaque lex paedagogus noster fait in Christo. — Gal. iii. 24. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. A. D. 467-511. Clovis, King of the Franks. 500. [c] Pseudo-Dionysius. 590-604. Gregory the Great, Pope. 680-755. Boniface, the Apostle of Germany. 785-818. The Adoptionist Controversy. 787. Seventh General Council approves image-worship. 800. Coronation of Charlemagne. 809. Acceptance of the Filioque. 816-840. Agobard, Archbishop of Lyons. 820-839. Claudius, Bishop of Turin. 831. Raclbertus teaches transubstantiation. 840. [c] Origin of the Forged-Decretals. 847-868. Controversy about predestination. 850. [c] John Scotus Erigena. 858-867. Nicholas I, Pope. 1000. Expectation of the end of the world. 1033-1109. Anselm of Canterbury. 1073-1085. Gregory VII. (Hildebrand), Pope. 1079-1142. Abelard. 1091-1153. Bernard of Clairvaux. 1096-1291. Period of the Crusades. 1159-1164- Peter the Lombard, Bishop of Paris. 1170-1221. Dominic, Founder of the Dominican order 1182-1226. Francis d'Assisi. 1198-1216. Innocent the Great, Pope. 1209-1229. Crusade against the Albigenses. 1215. Twelfth General Council of the Latins. 1227-1274. Thomas Aquinas. 1232. Establishment of the Inquisition. 1265-1321. Dante Alighieri. 1265-1308. Duns Scotus. 1294-1303. Boniface VIIL, Pope. THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. It has been the object of the preceding lectures to trace the characteristics of two distinct theologies. There were other theological movements in the early ages of the church, but they were relatively unimpor- tant ; the Jewish interpretation of Christianity, which may be seen in the Nazaritic and Ebionitic sects, had no enduring existence, and soon disappeared ; Arian- ism, which had a kinship with the Hebrew or deistic phases of Christian thought, also disappeared, leaving no organized results as a monument of its influence. It was quite otherwise with what may be called the Greek and Latin theologies : they have been perpet- uated in their essential characteristics in the two great divisions of Christendom known to-day as the Greek, or Holy Orthodox Church of the East; and the Latin, or Roman Catholic Church of the West. Before considering the mediaeval development of Latin theological thought, which is the subject of the present lecture, let us review in a brief summary the differ- ences on all essential points of the Greek and Latin theologies. 1 1 The general accuracy of this summary of the two theologies may be verified by consulting any of the doctrine histories, such as Neander, Hagenbach, or Baur. The Greek theology, it should be remembered, is distinct from the oriental tendency which prevailed in Asia Minor and elsewhere. Having been held in 176 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. The Greek theology was based upon that tradition or interpretation of the life and teaching of Christ which at a very early date had found its highest ex- pression in the Fourth Gospel ; while the Latin theol- ogy followed another tradition preserved by what are called the synoptical writers in the first three gospels. The fundamental principle of Greek theology, under- lying every position which it assumed, was the doctrine of the divine immanence, — the presence of God in nature, in humanity, in the process of human history ; in Latin thought may be everywhere discerned the working of another principle, sometimes known as Deism, according to which God is conceived as apart from the world, localized at a vast distance in the in- finitude of space. By Greek thinkers the incarnation was regarded as the completion and the crown of a spiritual process in the history of man, dating from the creation ; and by Latin writers as the remedy for a catastrophe, by which humanity had been severed from its affiliation with God. With the Greek, the emphasis was laid on the spiritual or essential Christ, who had always been present in human souls, who had become man in order that He might manifest the full- ness of the Godhead bodity ; with the Latin, the ten- dency was to magnify exclusively the historical Christ, who had come at a moment in time and then departed, leaving the world bereaved of His presence. Eevela- check for a time by Greek influence, its distinctive principle be- came more prominent after the age of Athanasius, when Greek theology entered upon the stage of decline. The oriental ten- dency showed itself more particularly in the doctrine of the sacra- ments, as in the case of Cyril of Jerusalem and even of Gregory of Nyssa, who represent in this respect the thought of Ignatius and Irenseus. A resume of patristic teaching on the sacraments may be found in Norris, Rudiments of Theology. SUMMARY OF THE TWO THEOLOGIES. 177 tion, according to Greek theology, was a continuous process, — a law of the spiritual creation, by which God was forever revealing Himself in and through the human reason ; and reason itself was but the evidence in man of an immanent divine activity, of the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. While the revelation was continuous and in its scope included the whole discipline of life, there were great revealing epochs, such as the age of Hebrew prophets or Greek philosophers, and the work of these in turn was but fragmentary and incomplete compared with the life of Him who was God manifest in the flesh, — the incarnation of that divine reason which abides eternally in God. The tendency of Latin theology was to regard the reason as untrustworthy and dan- gerous ; revelation was viewed as the definite and final communication of a message, a " deposit " in a book or rule of faith, to be guaranteed by tradition, or handed down as an heirloom from age to age. It followed as a necessary sequence from the first principle of Greek theology, — the doctrine of the di- vine immanence, — that man should be viewed as having a constitutional kinship with Deity ; by the image of God in man was understood an inalienable heritage, a spiritual or ethical birthright, which could not be forfeited. Deity and humanity were not alien the one to the other, and it was their constitutional re- lationship which made the incarnation not only possi- ble but a necessary factor in the process of redemp- tion. An opposite tendency was manifested in Latin thought ; the tie which binds humanity to God was regarded as having been severed by Adam's fall. Only that part of humanity in whom the lost image of the Creator had been restored by a supernatural crea- 12 178 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. tive act could therefore be the recipients of redemp- tion. With such a view of human nature the incar- nation became a difficulty to the reason ; and it is not surprising to find the mediaeval theology developing a skepticism as to whether the incarnation was necessary, or if God might not have saved men in some other way. The Greeks held to the organic unity of man- kind in Christ ; the Latins recognized the principle of solidarity in Adam. With the one, redemption lay in evoking and confirming, by a spiritual education, the divine that is already in man ; with the other, it consisted in an impartation of strength from without, through external channels. For the living presence in the soul of the spiritual Christ, the Latins substi- tuted an inanimate thing which was designated in re- ligious nomenclature as grace. The end of Christ's religion, as viewed by the Greeks, was the realizing of aspirations after a divine character, — the free imita- tion of God ; as viewed by the Latins, it was obedience to an external law. Faith, in the Greek acceptation, was spiritual vision, — the insight of the soul into eter- nal realities ; in the Latin, it was primarily assent to external authority. The church, in its most essential aspect, was re- garded by Greek theologians as the congregation of those who consciously acknowledged Christ as the way of righteousness and of life ; the office of the clergy was a representative one ; their authority came from the people, but they were also inspired by the Divine teacher to be the instructors and mouth-piece of those who constituted the body of Christ. In the Latin idea of the church, there was a tendency from the first to regard it as a divinely endowed, mysterious entity, distinct from the congregation, existing as a SUMMARY OF THE TWO THEOLOGIES. 179 mediator between it and God. The church was prac- tically identified with the hierarchical order, and the clergy held their office and prerogatives through a sanction away and apart from the people, — the dele- gates of a remote sovereign commissioned to rule in Plis name. The Greeks saw in the sacraments the symbols of the great verities of the Christian life, in- structive monuments or witnesses to a divine presence and activity, whose traces were always and everywhere to be discerned. The Latins identified the symbols with the things signified, and with them the sacraments became external agencies, in the hands of the hie- rarchy, for communicating grace, the exclusive chan- nels through which the divine life was imparted. In the comprehensiveness of the Greek estimate of Christ and His revelation, the salvation of which He is the author was not confined to those in union with the ec- clesiastical organization, and His presence was seen working unconsciously in devout heathens in all ages ; in the Latin scheme of redemption, salvability was not possible outside the communion of the visible or- ganization ; the whole body of heathens, without dis- crimination, as well as all infants dying without bap- tism, were inevitably lost forever to the vision and the presence of God. The Greeks thought of eternal life as consisting in that knowledge of God and of Christ which carried with it the harmonious develop- ment of the whole man in the way of truth and right- eousness ; the lack or rejection of this knowledge was death — the absence or negation of life. In the state of existence hereafter, the resurrection was con- ceived as the standing up again in the larger fullness of that immortal life which is in Christ. The Latin mind translated these conceptions into quantitative es- 180 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. timates : the resurrection was the revivifying of the identical particles of that body which had been laid in the grave and seen corruption ; eternal life be- came unendiug happiness, and eternal death unending woe. 1 The two theologies which we have contrasted do not stand to each other in the relation of the true to the false, but of the higher to the lower. The principle of historical continuity was not violated when Greek thought was translated into the theological idiom of the Latin mind. Latin Christianity was but the pop- ularized version of Christian truth suited to the unde- veloped capacity of the new races that were entering the empire, and alike adapted to the declining intel- lectual and spiritual forces of a people whose career of 1 The " larger hope " for humanity which Clement and Origen asserted is nowhere denied by Athanasius ; indeed, it was im- plied in his doctrine of the incarnation. The same view was en- tertained by Gregory of Nazianzus, and more emphatically by Gregory of Nyssa, — the one an intimate friend, and the other a brother, of Basil. It is found in the writings of Didymus, who was held in high repute in Alexandria, and was affirmed in the Antiochian school by Diodorus and Theodore of Mopsuestia, — a school of which Chrysostom was a pupil. In view of this har- mony among the leading representatives of Greek theology, the language of Basil and Chrysostom may be regarded as dictated by the practical requirements of their work as great preachers and energetic administrators of large dioceses, rather than as theologians inquiring only after what is true. They may have acquiesced in an unfortunate admission of Origen's, of whom Basil was an earnest admirer, that it might be necessary to preach what one did not believe. Upon Chrysostom's position, see Ne- ander, Ch. Hist., iv. p. 442. Basil was also rebuking the presump- tion of those who abused the belief that punishment would have its limits. Cf . Regulce Brev. Tract, Interrog. 267. See, also, Smith and Wace, Diet. Chris. Biog., Art. Eschatology, for a careful summary of the opinion of the ancient church. DETERIORATION OF GREEK THEOLOGY. 181 advance was over, and who were passing into the stage of senile weakness and decay. For the second child- hood which was overtaking the old civilization, and for the first childhood in the history of the new, Greek theology, with its comprehensive range and its lofty spirituality, was unsuitable ; even Origen had felt the inadequacy of the highest spiritual motives for those who were sinking into moral degeneracy with the grow- ing barbarism, or for those who, in first flush of phys- ical vigor, were given over to bestiality and a brutal materialism. Under such circumstances it was a thing to be expected that Greek theology would show a ten- dency to Latinize, and the lower interpretation of spir- itual truth be accepted in the place of the higher. Traces of such a deterioration may be seen in the Greek fathers of the fifth century ; even in the latter part of the fourth century, such writers as Basil, the two Gregories, and Chrysostom, show a tendency to subordinate thought to rhetoric, and while true in the main to the spirit and method of Greek theology, are unconsciously affected by the waning light of the old Hellenic culture. The age was over which had produced a Clement, an Origen, and an Athanasius ; centuries were destined to roll away before the work which they had dropped could be resumed in their spirit and with their advan- tages at the point where they left it. Meantime no opening was offered to the Greek church, in the prov- idence of God, by which its life might be quickened with the enthusiasm of missionary zeal. No mission devolved upon it to undertake the training of the new peoples, with whom, in the mystery of the divine pur- pose, lay the future of civilization. Closed in as the Eastern empire became by races inaccessible to Chris- 182 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. tian influences, the Eastern church was not only robbed of the larger part of its territory, but its spirit was benumbed and chilled, and it passed into that state of stagnant conservatism which has characterized its his- tory to our own day. Tradition was substituted for free theological inquiry; scholastic refinements and adherence to formal orthodoxy were valued as of the highest moment. To make a mistake in the matter of dogma became to the Greek the one unpardonable sin. The anthropomorphism, against which its greatest the- ologians had struggled in the endeavor to maintain the divine existence as a purely spiritual one, became, through the blind and partisan efforts of the monkish orders, the popular conception of Deity. God was conceived as existing in human form, and with this be- lief came image worship, and the cultus which depends upon material agencies to feed the life of the immortal spirit. The writings of the pseudo-Dionysius (a. d. 500), who, following the later Neo-Platonists, put God at an infinite remove from man, filling up the chasm between them with a heavenly hierarchy of graded an- gelic existences, whose continuators in the church on earth were the hierarchy of bishops, priests, and dea- cons, — these writings were received, in the ignorance of the age, as having an apostolic origin, and became more influential than the fathers in moulding the opin- ion and practice of earnest and aspiring souls. The pious author of the Celestial Hierareliy, who had bap- tized under a Christian name the last expiring breath of paganism, had, like his Neo-Platonist teachers, de- clared it possible to attain the vision of God by throw- ing the soul into a trance through the well-known methods of oriental asceticism. It is interesting and touching, withal, to notice in the history of Greek THE MODERN GREEK CHURCH. 183 mysticism so late as the fourteenth century, how a controversy arose on the point whether the light which the deluded monks, in their hallucinations, fancied sur- rounded their heads as a halo, was not the uncreated light which had also shone around the head of the Saviour upon Mount Tabor, — a feeble reminiscence of Greek theology in its better days with its postulate of revelation as light, — that light then in which was no darkness at all. The Greek church still retains in its decayed and immobile condition the traces of its high descent. De- spite its external resemblances to the Latin church, the ignorance of its clergy, or the superstitions and customs which repel the casual observer of its wor- ship, there may still be seen in its standards and lit- urgies the ruling conceptions of those ancient masters of theology, Clement of Alexandria and Athanasius. In the high importance which it has always attached to preaching, in the ethical and homiletic tone of its liturgies, remaining substantially unchanged since their revision by Basil and Chrysostom, — liturgies which, to the practical mind of the West, seem interminably long, with a dreary waste of words, — in its attitude of doctrinal protest against the errors of Rome and of Geneva, there still speaks the voice of the most an- cient, the most spiritual theology, as it existed in the days before its standard was lowered in the presence of an all pervading barbarism. The Greek church is as far removed from the spirit of Koine and of a Latinized Anglicanism on the one hand, as it is from the types of Protestant theology which, under the name of Calvinism, have perpetuated the spirit and the methods of Augustine, and to neither the one nor the other does it lend a willing ear. It still 184 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. lies inactive, seemingly unconscious of the signifi- cance of later history, and may long continue to re- main so. Its future is perhaps involved in the des- tinies of the vast empire which owns its allegiance ; the fate of the Turk and the Mohammedan oppressor, when revealed, may be the signal for its awakening. No mission, as has been said, came to it as to its Latin neighbor to become the school-master to a new people with a high destiny ; and yet, once in history, there came a great revival of the study of Hellenic litera- ture, which, while attended by grave evils, especially in the home of the papacy, became among the north- ern nations the precursor of the Protestant Reforma- tion. The study of Greek became from that time the basis of a new learning for Latin Christendom. Then it appeared that the Greek church had, during all of her apparent lifelessness, been assigned a providential role in history, — to preserve the ancient literature and hand it over when the new world was ready to receive it. In the consolation which Milton felt when he found himself debarred from the activities of life, there may be found the divine message to the apparently lifeless churches of the Orient, — they also serve who only stand and wait. II. The mission of the Latin or Roman Catholic church began when that of the Greek church had apparently ended. When the barbarian races overspread the Western Empire, overthrowing civilization and intro- ducing everywhere the wildest disorder, there was one institution which was not overthrown, which not only resisted the shock, but girded itself anew to the for- midable task of reducing the untamed mass of human- MISSION OF THE LATIN CHURCH. 185 ity to submission and order. The Latin church now began to reap the advantage of that labor of organ- ization, which had been slowly elaborated for cen- turies, and, like a subtle net-work, had extended itself, throughout the limits of the old society. The Roman church fell heir to the old Roman genius for conquest and discipline ; the spirit of Roman law survived, and was perpetuated in ecclesiastical institutions. From the sixth to the ninth century the work of convert- ing the new races to the recognition and obedience of the church went on with unabated and successful ardor, resembling nothing so much as that earlier process of conquest by which the city of Rome had made herself mistress of the nations. The races whom old Rome could never entirely vanquish be- came in course of time the submissive children of the Roman church, receiving from its hands the gifts which they had spurned at the hands of Roman war- riors. While the period of the early Middle Ages presents but little direct material for the history of theology, there may be traced in it the growth of sentiments which are charged with deep meaning for the future of humanity. Among these, the most prominent was a natural and spontaneous growth of reverence for the bishops of Rome. Up to the time of Gregory the Great (590-604) the papacy, although it had contin- ued to make a persistent claim to the primacy of the church, had gained no acknowledgment of its author- ity in the churches of the East. But in the West, when the waves of the barbarian invasion began to subside, and the constructive instincts of men began to assert themselves, the opportunity had come for the Roman see, which had been long and patiently 186 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. awaited. The papacy never appeared so fair, so at- tractive, as in the person of Gregory the Great, who stood, as it were, on the dividing line between two worlds, with the modest consciousness of a great des- tiny. Others might assume more pompous titles, as, for example, the patriarch of Constantinople, who called himself the " bishop of bishops," but Gregory was content, in the consciousness of an actual greatness, to be designated as the humblest of all, " the servant of the servants of God." The rise of the papacy in the new world was no usurpation ; there was at first no eager grasping after power ; the popes simply stood and received that which came to them as the willing offering of the people. In the confusion which every- where prevailed there sprang up the desire for order, and as a prerequisite for order, some common centre of unity and authority. Where could such a centre be looked for except in Rome, whose bishops in the general depression of the age stood so high above their contemporaries ? It seemed only natural in a world from which God stood at a distance, over which all His waves and storms had been breaking, that some one should have been appointed as His vicar or regent to stand in His place and act in His stead. The papacy, indeed, as men then began to regard it, was but the form which the conviction took among a rude people, of the truth that God had not abandoned the world to itself, and was present, in the person of His delegate, to order and control its affairs. The idea of the church which Augustine had done so much to determine was now further developed, and gained a new significance from the force of external events. The church was viewed as an ark of deliver- ance, — a refuge from the dark and evil world. Tho THE EMPIRE BECOMES A THEOCRACY. 187 Augustinian idea, that only some of those within the church were predestinated to salvation, gradually disappeared in favor of the more comprehensive and genial view, that all the baptized were alike elected to a great opportunity. The church became more entirely than ever the mediator, the manifest bond of union and of reconciliation between God and man. In com- munion with the church, in obedience to the church, lay the principle of salvation and redemption. Such was the aspect of the church to devout and timid souls, in an age of lawlessness and violence, when the great world had lost its attractiveness, and offered for the many no prospect of peace and secu- rity. As the conquests of the church progressed, and race after race were enrolled in its ranks by baptism, it became evident that it was the most potent of agen- cies for promoting the end most desired, — order and due submission to authority. A process was silently but surely operating, which, bringing the people under the control of the clergy, the clergy under the obe- dience of the bishops, and the bishops into due sub- jection to the earthly head of the church at Rome, was also consolidating the empire into one great family united by a common faith and hope. In this process the civil power lent its aid ; force was emplo} r ed to convert the peoples whose stubborn adherence to hea- thenism the moral influence of missionaries had failed to overcome ; legislation was enacted by the state en- forcing obedience to the church's decrees. What would have been the history of the church, if Charle- magne and his predecessors had not given their willing support to its policy, is a question concerning which it is idle to speculate. Those able rulers had also a pol- icy of their own to support, and believed themselves 188 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. to be strengthening the civil authority by an alliance with the Bishop of Rome. Such might have been the result had the external course of affairs been ordered differently than it was. It was made clear by the subsequent course of the history that the alliance with the church had not strengthened the state. When the vast empire of Charlemagne was broken into frag- ments, with a constant tendency to divide and subdi- vide, one thing became evident, that the Roman bishop was master of the situation ; the state had become hopelessly divided, while the church was united under the rule of the pope ; to all intents and purposes the state had been simply resolving itself into a church, — a theocracy, whose divine sovereign was the Bishoj) of Rome. The reverse had been taking place of what is seen in Christendom to-day, when the church is divided and the state is united, — a prophecy to the minds of some that the process is destined to go on, till the church grows into and becomes identified with the state. The period known as the Early Middle Ages, ex- tending from the beginning of the sixth century to the dismemberment of the empire of Charlemagne in the ninth century, is marked by many character- istics distinguishing it sharply from the age that fol- lowed. The supremacy of the pope, so far as it had been achieved, was chiefly of a moral kind, rest- ing on the free recognition of the people, winning its way to such recognition because of its genuine ser- vices to the cause of morality and of order. This period is in some respects also analogous to the career of the Jewish church. Underneath its religious man- ifestations may be discerned the deistic conception of God as outside of the world in the distant heavens, LOW STAGE OF RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT. 189 while morality rested for its sanctions upon a belief in temporal rewards and punishments. But the connec- tion of religion and morality was not a close one, and despite the efforts of the church there prevailed the idea, always seen in the initial stages of religious de- velopment, that God was pleased at His acknowledg- ment by men apart from the nature of the service rendered to Him, or that what was desired by them was to be obtained by asking. Even the missionaries themselves condescended to an argument, which had great weight with their heathen auditors, that the Christian God was stronger than the old deities, and disposed to aid by His powerful support those who accepted His allegiance or to thwart the schemes of those who rejected it. The argument told upon the barbarian races who were inclined to attribute to the weakness of their deities the disasters experienced in the long process of migration, and whose hold upon their worshipers had been further relaxed in conse- quence of the breaking up of the old local associa- tions. Besides, as a matter of fact, victory did clearly seem to follow the acknowledgment of the Christian Deity. So reasoned the high-priest of heathenism in England, when Christianity was first presented for his acceptance, — the old gods had never done much for him, though he had been faithful in their service, and it might be expedient to make a change in the hope of better results. Clovis in an emergency prayed to the Christian God, and obtained a great victory. The Burgundians, who were among the earliest races to be converted, finding themselves at the mercy of the Huns, applied for baptism to the neighboring Chris- tian bishop as a preservative against those sons of the demons. 190 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. In the dense ignorance that closed in around the Western empire, it is interesting to note that the traces of the old Hellenic culture have not entirely disap- peared. The Irish-Scotch clergy alone seem to have maintained a knowledge of the Greek language and literature ; and at a time when it was the universal belief that all outside the church were doomed to endless woe, it is curious to read of Irish monks proclaiming in Germany, to the great scandal of the Anglo-Saxon Boniface, the doctrine of a plurality of worlds and of the possible salvation of the heathen. The famous John Scotus Erigena in the ninth cen- tury holds the same relation to the world of letters that Charlemagne does to the slowly rising civilization, — both of them, as it were, men born out of due time, phenomena as striking as the sudden and inexplicable appearance of comets darting across the dark heavens. John Scotus was one of the very few with any knowl- edge of Greek. He had studied the works of Plato and of Origen to such advantage as to produce a sys- tem of religious philosophy of vast scope and pro- fundity, the anticipation in all important aspects of the systems of our own day. 1 But John Scotus only confused and puzzled his age ; he seemed to be ortho- dox, but in a fashion hardly available for practical 1 " La theologie de Jean Scot, heretiere des plus grandes con- ceptions de l'Eglise d'Orient, ne convenait pas au Christianisnie du moyen age. Elle ouvrait a la pensee religieuse d 'immense perspectives ; elle repandait de hautes clartes sur les problemes les plus difficiles de la metaphysique ckretienne ; elle continuait les traditions de ces magnifiques genies, qui avaient eleve le Christianisnie au sommet de la pkilosophie elle-meme. Mais telle lumiere etait trop eclatante pour les faibles yeux de la Scliolastique." — Vacherot, Histoire de Vecole d'Alexandrie, iii. p. 81. SIGNIFICANCE OF THE FIL10QUE. 191 purposes ; what could such an age as his do with a man who talked about evil as a negation, as having no real existence, or who defined predestination as the consciousness of achieving one's destiny. At a later time the justice which he failed to receive in his life- time was meted out to him, and he was condemned as a heretic. His main contribution to Latin theology was his translation of the " Celestial Hierarchy " of Dionysius, hitherto a sealed book for want of knowl- edge of the Greek language. In the main the atti- tude of Gregory the Great toward learning was main- tained throughout the early Middle Ages, — the piet- ism which regards all study that does not concern the salvation of the soul as useless and profane. Alcuin rebuked the too eager curiosity of Charlemagne to un- derstand the secrets of the natural world ; the study of nature and of the classics was regarded as danger- ous and heathenish ; attention was concentrated on the Bible and Latin ecclesiastical writers, among whom Augustine had the preeminence. The theological controversies of the ninth century are significant as showing the drift of religious thought toward what became later the established authorita- tive teaching of the church, although none of them were conducted in a satisfactory way or brought to any definite conclusion by representative synodal ac- tion. The problem of the jilioque, — whether the Holy Spirit proceeded from the Father alone, as the Greeks maintained, or from the Father and the Son, whatever may be its true speculative solution, was decided in favor of the latter hypothesis, and the filioque was added about the beginning of the ninth century to the Nicene Creed. It may be difficult to fathom the mo- tives which have always made this conclusion most ac- 192 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. ceptable to the Latin mind, but there can be no doubt of the fact. One can readily see that with the gen- erally received view of the church as an institution founded on earth by Christ, the government of which had been intrusted after His departure to the pope as His vicar, it would De incongruous to think of the Holy Spirit as a diffused spiritual activity not bound to the hierarchy or confined within the ecclesiastical organization, but proceeding from the Father alone, and therefore at liberty to act as the wind, where He listed. Such a view would undermine the received view of the nature of the church as a definite organi- zation beyond the communion of which there was no salvation. The adoptionist controversy which arose in Spain shows the influence of the prevalent Mohammedan faith in weakening the adherence of Catholic Chris- tians to the doctrine of the incarnation. In the face of the vigorous proclamation of Islam, Far be it from God that He should have a son, the Spanish Chris- tians were inclined to confine the real Sonship of Christ to His divine nature, and to regard His human nature as alien from God, and as brought into relation with him by adoption. 1 The church in the Frankish empire opposed the principle of adoption, but it is evident that on both sides of the controversy there was a disposition to lay the supreme stress on the divine element in Christ, while His humanity was becoming the mere shadow or reminiscence of the great reality of the God made man. The historical Christ had re- treated to a distance by the side of the equally distant 1 That the position known as adoptionism was only a natural inference from the decision of the sixth general council has been shown by Dorner, Person of Christ, b. ii. p. 252. DISCUSSION OF TRAN SUBSTANTIATION. 193 Father, and coming events were soon to transform Him into the cold, unpitying Judge who stood await- ing the close of this earthly dispensation, when hu- manity should be summoned to His dread tribunal. It was in the ninth century that the doctrine of transubstantiation became for the first time the sub- ject of formal discussion. In the ancient church from an early period, and chiefly by oriental writers in Asia Minor, a highly rhetorical language had been used on the subject of the Eucharist, which might seem to imply the belief in an actual transformation in the ele- ments of bread and wine. The Greek theologians, as has been already said, interpreted the expressions, the body and the blood of Christ, as symbols or figures of a spiritual reality ; and even the early Latin fathers, as Tertuliian and Cyprian, vacillated in their utter- ances between the spiritual and material interpreta- tion of the great Christian feast. Augustine had been obliged by his principle of predestination to hold the spiritual view, according to which the benefits of the sacraments were received only by the elect, while to all others they were but an empty sign. It certainly cannot be called a propitious moment in the ninth century for the clear and intelligent discussion of any theological topic, when the intellect of the new races was only just awakening to its first activity, when the few who bore the title of scholar were not only unac- quainted with the history of theology, but were wholly untrained in the art of reasoning and the expression of thought. Under such circumstances it is remarka- ble how the common sense and robust spiritual nature of some of the most intelligent men of the age pro- tested against the notion advanced by the monk Rad- bertus (831). thai a miraculous change took place at 13 194 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. the consecration of the elements. But Ratramnus (Bertram), John Scotus Erigena, Rabanus Maurus, and others could not remake their time; Radbertus had expressed the tendency of the church at large — the presence of Christ, His continuous incarnation in the world, was not in the activity of the reason or in the spiritual life of His followers, but in the sacrament of the altar, and even there it was not the spirit of Christ, but His body, that was offered in sacrifice and eaten by the people. There was one other controversy (847-868) more bitter and of longer duration than the others. Gott- schalk was a monk, the son of a Saxon count, who had been from infancy devoted by his parents to the mo- nastic profession. Although of a deeply religious na- ture, he desired after reaching maturity to free him- self from the shackles of monastic obligation, but when he made the attempt he found it to be impossible. Another power stood between him and God, making him realize that he was no longer free to follow inde- pendently the bent of his native disposition. Unable to escape the monastic thralldom he gave himself to a deeper study of Augustine, and advocated in an ex- treme form, and in a passionate way, the doctrines of predestination and reprobation. He became the type and forerunner of those who in later times would de- tach the Augustinian doctrine of election and grace from their close connection with the Latin institution of the church, as Augustine had held them, and find a larger liberty and higher manhood in depending upon God alone and directly, through the bond of His final decree. But meantime, as Gottschalk realized in a life of painful martyrdom, it was the church's decree and not God's which regulated the process of human BEGINNING OF THE "AGES OF FAITH:' 195 salvation. Despite the prevailing reverence for Au- gustine, the doctrine of individual election by divine decree was abandoned by the most representative the- ologians for the election through baptism of an uncon- scious humanity to the discipline and the cultus of the church. III. The ninth century forms the culmination of the early Middle Ages. It was marked by the awaken- ing of the human mind, a curiosity for knowledge, the rise of schools in which the rudiments of educa- tion were taught, and by a group of theologians who devoted themselves with great energy and vigor to the religious issues of the time. The papal see had been occupied by great men like Nicholas I. and Hadrian, who used their power during the political disturbances of the age in behalf of the higher interests of the church, and almost anticipated the sway of Hilde- brand and his successors. But the results which had been so laboriously achieved in raising the new world out of barbarism suddenly disappeared in the latter part of the century, and two centuries rolled away before the work thus interrupted was again resumed on the same level. In the eleventh century, when the church emerges from the dark ages, and mediaeval theology enters upon its second stage, it was no longer the same world that it had been. A mighty change had passed over the human spirit, which can be ac- counted for only by a divine Providence in human affairs mysteriously ordering external events in the in- terest of a spiritual development. The early Middle Ages, taken as a whole, reveal a people that had not yet been brought into complete 196 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. subjection to the church. It was characterized by a certain freedom and simplicity in the religious life. The image worship which the degenerate East had approved at a general council (789) was not accept- able to the healthier, manlier tone of the western mind, and had been rejected by the- church in Eng- land and on the continent. There had been theolo- gians like Agobard of Lyons, and Claudius of Turin, who had discerned the outlines of a purer Chris- tianity with the clearness of vision of the reformers of the sixteenth century. The people, and even the clergy, do not seem to have stood greatly in awe of the pope's excommunications ; such a thing as the papal ban or interdict was unknown ; the property of the church had not been regarded as having a sacred, inalienable character, while the contributions demanded for its support needed civil legislation to enforce their payment. The common people showed no appreciation of a high moral ideal, no deep con- viction of sin ; on the contrary, the migration of the barbarians seemed to have had for its first effects the dissolution of morals in an extraordinary degree. If the course of external circumstances had not come to the aid of the church, it does not seem as though Europe would ever have bent its head to the yoke of the priesthood. What are called the " ages of faith " had not yet begun. The causes of the change which came over the human spirit may be roughly traced to the profound as well as extensive social disturbances, caused by the second migration which went on in the ninth century. The Huns appeared with renewed numbers and en- ergy, overrunning the Frankish empire as far as the sea before they returned ; the Northmen came down THE EFFECT OF TERROR. 197 upon the coast of France, and, sweeping- south by sea, took possession of Italy ; the Danes invaded and con- quered England ; the Saracens passed through the Mediterranean, and appeared even before the gates of Rome. In consequence of these movements, govern- ment and order grew weak and almost disappeared; monastic establishments were pillaged and burned ; life and property became everywhere insecure. And, as if the universal terror caused by these events was not sufficient, there was bred a general conviction that the end of the world was at hand, — >that when the year 1000 should be reached the world would be de- stroyed, and humanity summoned to appear before the judgment-seat of Christ. The shadow of a great dread fell upon Christendom, and took shape in the universal sense of horror of the final judgment that was impending. Such was the divine method of re- vealing to men the sinfulness of sin, and rousing into activity the human conscience. The old idea that God was pledged, as it were, to protect His own people and to punish their enemies could thrive no longer after such a visitation at His hands. The attention of men was drawn away to a future world, where the sins which had been punished so terribly in this world would be followed by endless retribution, or where alone those who had served God faithfully would re- ceive the reward which had been denied them here. Under circumstances like these it did not require civil legislation to bring a terrified people into com- plete and even abject submission to the church and her offices. We read, on the eve of this dark period, of forged decretals, of pretended donations, and of stolen titles to honor and dignity ; but it was not these which riveted the bands of ecclesiastical authority 198 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. upon the people. It was rather the workings of the human conscience, — the feeling that there was some- thing wrong, in man or in the world around him ; that God was angry and was making His wrath felt in visible signs which could not be mistaken. It needed no longer urgent entreaty to induce the people to make offerings to God and His church of their worldly goods. Property had lost its value to those who were concerned about the safety of their souls. The church grew rich with the money and the lands that were so freely offered, and in return granted remission of sins through the confessional, and by the power of the priesthood kept the heavens open to human supplica- tion in the stupendous mystery of the altar. When the tenth century had closed, and when hope again returned, as to the world after the deluge, the erection of great cathedrals began, — offerings to Heaven as for a great deliverance, in which were written the story of a people's experience. In their vast propor- tions, in the feeling of awe and the sense of the pro- found mystery of life which they inspired, — the mys- tery of the forest, with its chastened, solemn light, — in the dim hope for humanity revealed through the dark- ness by the twinkling candle before the consecrated host, in the columns, pinnacles, and spires, always pointing away from earth and upward to heaven, in an architecture thus calculated at once to enthrall the imagination and subdue the natural impulses, did the spirit of mediaeval Christianity find its beautiful em- bodiment. It was in the eleventh century, when external events had given one common tone and direction to Christian piety, when the popular belief found a satisfactory ex- pression in the prevailing cultus, when asceticism was ANSELM' S DOCTRINE OF ATONEMENT. 199 taking on an oriental severity, when the human mind sought a congenial field for the first exercise of its un- trained powers in the effort to demonstrate the truth of the church's teaching, that Anselm arose, the first and among the greatest in the long line of scholastic theologians. He was an Italian by birth, identified with the mo- nastic revival of his time, and, when late in life he became archbishop of Canterbury, he devoted himself in an ultramontane spirit to the extremest claims of the papacy in its conflicts with the secular power. The merit of Anselm lay in the fact that, more than any one who came after him, he combined with his dialectic capacity the deep experience of an earnest Christian feeling. Hence he was successful in inter- preting the deeper moods of the soul, and gave such a clear expression to the theory which underlay the re- ligious tendencies of his age that he still remains their best exponent, whenever under similar circum- stances they have reappeared in the church. The doctrine of the atonement, with which his name remains associated, was elaborated in a treatise whose nominal object it was to demonstrate to the reason the necessity of the incarnation. But in elaborating this remarkable theory Anselm was in reality seeking for a bond of union between man and God which should satisfy the heart and conscience as well as the specula- tive demands of his intellect. According to Anselm's theory of the atonement, man owes a perfect obedience to the divine law ; but no one has rendered this obedi- ence, and so all men have fallen in debt, for sin is a debt, the failure to render what man owes to God. Divine justice dooms all men to endless punishment, since sin against an infinite being calls for infinite 200 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. penalty. But if justice were executed the divine goodness would be thwarted, and the divine goodness cannot allow that all men should be endlessly lost. The divine wisdom therefore devises a plan whereby goodness can be manifested and yet justice satisfied. Man cannot pay the debt, and yet, if it is to be paid, it must be paid by man for it is man that has sinned. Only God can pay the debt ; for only an infinite be- ing can satisfy infinite justice, only God can satisfy God. The schism in the divine nature is healed by God becoming man and rendering a full satisfaction. The obedience of Christ as the God-man, even to suf- fering and death, possesses an infinite value, and is more than an equivalent for what the race would have suffered if punished forever, as the honor of God re- quired. Thus the debt is paid, justice is satisfied, goodness is triumphant, and God can pardon sinners. Upon this theory of Anselm, it may be remarked that it indicates an advance in theological thought, be- cause it represents the action in humanity of a quick- ened conscience seeking for some firm ground on which to rest in its relation to God. In other respects, also, it marks an advance in formal theology as an ef- fort to escape from that unchristian dualism which had been inclined to regard the death of Christ as in some sense a ransom paid to Satan, in order to withdraw mankind from his power. This view of a ransom paid to Satan was never, it should be said, the real doctrine of atonement in the ancient church. In Greek theology the incarnation in and of itself was the power which redeemed and regenerated humanity, — which reconciled man to God and God to man ; in the death of Christ was seen the highest and most conclusive evidence of God's identification with the interests and CRITICISM OF A NS ELM'S THEORY. 201 the lot of humanity, the strongest proof of the divine love. But even in the ancient church when that vast transition of souls was taking place from the dreary under-world, as conceived by Jewish or pagan thought, upward to the abode of light and blessedness, there were vague and obscure allusions to a process by which Satan, the lord of the under-world, had lost his hold over spirits confined within his domain, through the power of the death and resurrection of Christ. For Christ Himself had, in obedience to the law of death, also been obliged to enter the under-world, and there by His preaching had made known to captive spirits His mission to them as well as to mankind, and when He rose again from the dead, He had won the right to empty Hades of all believers. Satan had for a moment held the Saviour in his grasp, and although he had been, as it were, outwitted by an event which he had not foreseen, — His resurrection again to life, — yet in that one moment in which he had held Christ in his power through His submission unto death, there had been an acquittal of his claims against humanity. Such was the view which may have led to the inser- tion in the Apostles' Creed of the clause now so dif- ficult to interpret : " He descended into hell." It remains there as a monument to a great historical process in human thought, — how through the belief in the universal mission of a Christ ascended into the heavens with God, the belief in an under-world passed away, yielding to the Christian heaven of perpetual light and ever-increasing growth in divine activities. In the Middle Ages, when the historical origin of the theory had long been forgotten, its residuum took the shape that the death of Christ had been a ransom paid to Satan for the deliverance of mankind from 202 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. his power. Anselm took a great step forward when he combated such a view by declaring the ransom to have been paid to God, and for the schism or dual- ism of two hostile powers, Satan and God, substituted a dualism within the divine nature itself between justice and love. That the older view did not easily disappear is seen in the fact that it was reasserted in the following century by no less distinguished a per- sonage than Bernard of Clairvaux, so far was he car- ried away by his opposition to the theological ration- alism of his time. It may be further remarked concerning this theory of Anselm that it reflects the local influences of the Middle Ages and of the legal attitude of the Latin mind. God is viewed as a distant and mighty suze- rain, having an absolute claim on the obedience of his subjects, whose honor injured or diminished requires an awful reparation. No figure could have been chosen more expressive in the days of feudalism and of chivalry to bring home to the conscience the rela- tion of God to man. In the conception of sin as the violation of an external law, was the only adequate representation of it to a people who were still in the condition of those to whom Moses had declared the com- mandments on Mount Sinai, amidst the awe-inspiring convulsions of the outward world, and who had not yet learned to regard the law as the expression of the divine character, written in the inward nature of man, — that alluring power in his constitution which at- tracts him onward in devoted love to the free imitation of God. The figure of sin as a debt had, indeed, been used by Christ Himself in the parable of the debtor ; but there were some features in the Saviour's language which Anselm passed over in silence. What THE PARABLE OF THE DEBTOR. 203 was the significance of the fact that the servant's lord had at first freely forgiven the whole debt because it was desired of him ; and what was the reason that the debt came back upon the wicked servant after it had been once remitted ? The Saviour when the parable had ended dropped the figure and came back again to the language of reality : " So also shall my heavenly Father do unto you, if ye from your heart forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." The real de- fect in Anselm's doctrine of the atonement is that he built upon the action or the fears of a diseased and guilty conscience in its sense of alienation from God, instead of the pure and free consciousness of Him who is the type of the normal man, who abode in undis- turbed communion with the Father, and aims through the power of His living presence to bring all men into the same relation. The thought of Anselm was defi- cient also in another important respect, in not clearly exhibiting the process by which the individual man availed himself of the advantage springing from the payment of the debt. When in the later Protestant theologies Anselm's scheme of atonement, like Augus- tine's doctrine of predestination, was detached from its connection with the Latin idea of the church, the faith of the individual believer, or his assent to the transaction, became the means by wdiich its benefits were appropriated. But Anselm made no such provi- sion ; the tendency of his thought was to hand over the result achieved by the death of Christ to the con- trol or disposition of the church, and thus magnify the church as the real mediator between God and man. Anselm had spoken of the suffering of Christ in its infinite character as constituting an equivalent for 204 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. the endless punishment of mankind, but the later School-men thought to do greater honor to the death of Christ by regarding it as more than an equivalent, and as creating in addition a vast treasury of merit which, with the superfluous merit of the saints, was placed at the disposal of the church, and by it assigned at will to the credit of individual souls. Such was the foun- dation of the later doctrine of indulgences; it may seem but a parody of the gospel of Christ ; it has appeared absurd and even grotesque to modern theo- logians ; and yet in it can be discerned the gropings of the human mind in a crude way, and under great dis- advantages, after that higher conception of the incar- nation and of the solidarity of mankind in the Son of God, which has been presented as the leading princi- ple in Greek theology. In the thought of Athanasius we see interpreted the struggles of mediaeval scholas- ticism after the knowledge of Him who gave His body to the death for all, and thus paid the universal debt ; in whom all mankind have died ; who taking humanity up into Himself, and suffering in the flesh for all, bestowed salvation upon all ; through whom humanity restored and deified is endowed henceforth in its own right with a divine, recuperative power. IV. Just as Greek theology, in the age of its decline, showed a tendency to Latinize, to fall away from the high interpretation of spiritual realities into literal and crude conceptions, so also does Latin theology, when it begins a career of fresh and independent ac- tivity in the later Middle Ages, show a tendency to Hellenize, to rise by processes of its own from the let- RISE OF SCHOLASTICISM. 205 ter to the spirit, from the outward to the inward as- pects of the revelation in Christ. Such a course is necessitated by the law of progress, which is the law of the life of humanity. It is impossible to stay the rising force of the human mind, or check the expres- sion of the human consciousness divinely sown with the seeds of eternal truth, when the expanding germs press forward into the light. External repression may\ seem to hinder or even annihilate the process, but in reality deepens, intensifies, and strengthens it. In the long run, nothing can succeed against the truth, but for the truth. The peculiar form which the intellectual activity of the Middle Ages assumed is known as Scholasticism, a name, however, which reveals nothing of the inner characteristics of a process which lasted for centuries before its task was demonstrated to have ended in failure, so far as its direct object was concerned, but which indirectly promoted in a powerful way the higher interests of humanity. Scholasticism originated in the schools, which were afterward developed into the great universities, and was therefore primarily an intellect- ual movement, as contrasted with monasticism, that other great institution of the Middle Ages, whose primary aim was the cultivation of piety. The real object, whether avowed or tacitly assumed, of this vast and long-continued intellectual process, was to adjust the theology of the church to the human conscious- ness ; to show, if possible, by demonstration, that the dogmas and tenets, handed down by tradition from Augustine and his Latin predecessors, or modified since then by the practical necessities of the church, were in harmony with the reason of man, and were the abso- lute expression of divine truth. The movement did 206 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. not begin in skepticism, but rested upon unquestioning assent to the church's teaching, so far as it was known or understood. The scholastic philosophers took it for granted, in the nature of things, that this demonstra- tion could be reached, — the only question was as to the method. It need hardly be said that they were unaware that there had been an earlier interpretation of Christianity, made by a people, in the full maturity of their intellectual powers, whose reason had been trained for ages by a philosophical culture of the highest order, and in possession of a language beauti- fully adapted as a perfect vehicle for the expression of the subtlest forms of human thought. They were not aware that this earlier interpretation of the Christian faith differed on every essential point from that which they had received from the hands of the Latin church. They did not know that Christianity, as it had been received in the West, was but a lower form of the truth adapted to a ruder apprehension ; that it was a temporary expedient in the long range of human de- velopment ; that the controlling principle in the devel- opment of theology, as they had received it, was its adaptation to the necessities of a hierarchical organi- zation. To them the church, viewed as the Latin ec- clesiastical organization, was divine, the possessor of absolute truth, to receive which, in unquestioning as- sent, was the highest duty of man. To bring such a system into accord with human reason, or the con- sciousness that is in man, necessitated its retranslat- ing back into its higher and more ancient form, the passing at every point from the outward to the inward. But to succeed in such a process was to revolutionize theology — to change the conceptions of the being of God and his relation to the world, of the incarnation, THE CHURCH NOT MEETING THE AGE. 207 of revelation, of the nature of man, of the origin of evil, of atonement, of the true cultus of the spirit, and of all that relates to the last things in human destiny. And yet of such a process the scholastic philosophy was the beginning, even though its results were mainly of a negative character. It lasted long enough to show that the highest reason could not defend or main- tain the tenets of Latin theology ; and in the course of its progress it revealed intimations of a higher attitude toward truth which could and did commend itself not only to the intellect but to the Christian heart. The first step in such a process was the gradual revelation of the fact that the church itself was not meeting the needs of humanity. All through the twelfth century there went on a series of protests against the church and its teachings from almost every part of Christendom, some of them formidable in the extent of their influence, others of narrow pro- portions, all of them more or less disfigured by whim- sical fantasies, by erroneous and even dangerous ten- dencies, and yet all of them connected by an inward principle indicating their organic relationship to hu- man life, and all of them significant of the future that was to be. Such were the Cathari or Albigenses in France, the Sect of the Holy Spirit, the Petrobru- sians, the Apostolical Brethren, and the Waldenses. These movements, however diverse in aspect, were yet alike in their aim to realize a closer relationship and communion between God and man, and to seek for God within the soul, rather than at a distance from, it without ; in their assertion of the in-dwelling pres- ence of a Spirit who was no other than God Himself, of whom the human body was the abiding temple, and 208 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. not merely the ecclesiastical edifice ; in the emphasis attached to the morality of the Sermon on the Mount as concerning itself with the inward motives, and not exclusively, as the current morality taught in the con- fessional, with the outward act ; in the opposition to rites, ceremonies, and ordinances as the means of con- veying an external grace, or of infusing virtues into the soul from without ; in the tendency to exalt poverty as a protest in behalf of the native worth and dignity of the human soul. The age in which these movements originated (the twelfth century) was remarkable for its freedom as well as its range of intellectual activity. The freedom is accounted for by the circumstance that the attention of those in authority was called elsewhere. Absorbed as were the popes with struggles of a different charac- ter, there was little disposition or energy for watching the greater dangers that threatened the church from an unknown and hitherto unsuspected^ quarter. The church was dealing with kings, princes, and nobility ; it was organizing great crusades ; it was contending for the rights of the clergy against the secular power ; and, above all, it had entered upon a life and death struggle with the German emperors, in which no less an issue was at stake than the civil supremacy of the papacy. The intellectual activity came by a law of its own in the life of peoples, but was greatly stimu- lated by the contact with Mohammedan culture and civilization, whether in Spain, or in the remoter East, where the crusades were carrying so large a part of the population. It was through Mohammedan media- tion that the Latin church was becoming acquainted with Greek philosophy, a gift that could not be re- ceived directly from the elder church, because of the ABELARD AND FREE INQUIRY. 209 hostility that had long since resulted in a schism and sundered all ecclesiastical communion. In this age of great freedom and incessant activ- ity, when the larger world was first opening upon the vision of a hitherto secluded and quiet life, the most representative man was Abelard. He bears the same relation to formal theology that the new sects which are multiplying in Christendom sustain to the practi- cal life of the church. His thought from beginning: to end was in revolt against the accepted principles of Latin theology. He undermined the foundations of assent to authority, and it was his misfortune, not his fault, that he had not the power to substitute some- thing better in its stead. The respective mottoes of Anselm and Abelard have often been put in contrast, as if they stood for diametrically opposite methods of inquiry, and yet both contain an element of truth. The motto of Anselm, " I believe in order that I may understand," — Credo lit intelligam, — was equivalent to saying that truth must have revealed its full influ- ence in the life before it can be measured by the in- tellect. Abelard reversed the motto of Anselm, but in so doing, he had in view the formal definitions of a theology that had not originated in a living process of thought, but had been received by tradition on exter- nal authority, — a tradition which commanded a merely nominal assent, and which was maintained in the in- terest of ecclesiastical order. When his admiring dis- ciples told him they did not understand the doctrine of the trinity, and that it seemed impossible to be- lieve, unless they understood, Abelard assented to the principle, and undertook to explain the doctrine to their comprehension. In so doing, he was attempting a task to which he was unequal, and was further mis- 14 210 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. taken in supposing that he understood what he pro- fessed to explain, or that he had fathomed the truth which lay beneath the formula. 1 His situation was an anomalous one, where it was necessary that the mind should inquire and seek to understand, but where it must inevitably fall short of the reality until illu- mined by a fuller light. His attempt was not alto- gether a failure, though it might for a time create confusion of thought, and even lead to erroneous opin- ions. But it was something that he called attention to the doctrine as a great verity whose value woidd be enhanced by its full appreciation, rather than a mysterious formula, the investigation of which by the reason was in its nature irreverent. The work of Abelard finds its real significance not so much in any immediate influence exercised upon his own age, as in the light thrown upon the work- ings of the mind — the prophetic disclosure of the . road which future generations were to travel. In his treatise entitled, " Scito te Ipsum," the words of Soc- rates when he led the great innovation in Greek philosophy, it was his aim to show that sin lies in the motive or intention, and not in the outward act. The ultimate effect of this principle, had it been received, would have been to overthrow the whole mediaeval system of the confessional with the abuses growing out of penances commutable into money payments at the discretion of the priest. The outward act was capable of being easily estimated or graduated on a financial scale, while to deal with subtle motives was a thing lying beyond the capacity of human confessors. But 1 The tendency of his thought was toward Sabellianism. See Remusat, Abelard, sa Vie, sa Philosophie, et sa Theologie, ii. p. 303. I ALARMING SPREAD OF HERESY. 211 the confessional, based upon the view that sin was a transgression of an external law, with its arbitrary division of offenses into mortal or venial, was still destined to remain and manifest its tendency to de- grade the tone of morality before it was rejected by an enlightened public opinion. The nature of Abelard's work, so far in advance of his age, was further seen in a treatise entitled " Sic et non," whose object was to show that church tradition, based as it was supposed upon the consensus of the ancient fathers, rested on an unstable foundation. The contradictions of the an- cient writers when placed side by side were evidence that no such consensus existed, as had hitherto been taken for granted. Indeed, Abelard might have car- ried his contrast further if he had possessed the requi- site knowledge of the materials at his disposition. Although the twelfth century has been spoken of as an age of freedom, yet it was not a freedom which had been purchased by struggles and the martyrdom of blood. It was a premature thing, destined to disap- pear as suddenly as it had arisen. Even in the time of Abelard there were signs of the great ecclesiastical reaction which half a century later would reach its full dimensions. Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153) and others like minded were becoming alarmed at the rapid spread of heretical opinions, and at the seeming recklessness of those like Abelard who showed no re- spect for the sacred convictions of the church. Cause enough for alarm indeed existed. Within the mem- ory of those still living Berengar had created a pro- found sensation by denying the reality of the miracle of the altar ; Roscellin had speculated with such dan- gerous results about the trinity as to fall into trithe- ism, and his adherents still existed ; Abelard and Gil- 212 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. bert de la Porree continued to exercise their dialectic upon the most sacred of mysteries ; undisguised pan- theism had appeared among the sect of the Free Spirit, and was spreading everywhere in the highest circles under the influence of Averrhoes' philosophy; an al- most Manickaean dualism was taugkt among tke Cath- ari ; rites and ceremonies were being set at naugkt, tke priestkood inveighed against, and, generally, a tendency was evident to break away from the author- ity and discipline of the church. It was also well known that the contagion of Abelard's influence had been felt by high dignitaries in close relationship to the Roman see. The condemnation of Abelard, which was secured by the influence of the saintly Bernard of Clairvaux, was the first indication of the rising ecclesiastical reac- tion. It shows how ill-prepared was the age for the deadly conflict of truth against authority that Abelard retreated, at the most critical moment in his career, from his vantage-ground in the conscience, and ap- pealed to the pope for his vindication. In one sense, it is true, there was deep meaning in the appeal ; it was one of those tests applied to the papacy by which its inadequacy to its position was to be fully revealed to all thoughtful men. The principle of the reaction lay in the desire to maintain order and unity against the growing confusion which sprang from the unac- customed use of the reason. When the popes were free to turn their attention to the dangers threatening the church from within, the work of subjugating the reason went on apace. Toward the close of the twelfth century the " Holy See " instituted a crusade for the complete annihilation of the Cathari ; the work of de- struction, as it went on, included all who dissented THE ECCLESIASTICAL REACTION. 213 from received traditions and usages ; no difference was made between the heretical sects, for their greatest guilt was common to them all — the assertion of the reason against authority ; and all alike, Waldenses, Arnoldists, Petrobrusians, disciples of Amalric and Apostolic Brethren, vanished, or seemed to do so, be- fore the invading hosts of the militant church. Strin- gent laws were enacted by which heresy could be de- tected and punished wherever it appeared, and of these, the bishops were appointed the executors. There were some who believed in the efficacy of preaching as a means of conversion from heresy ; but a stronger, more quickly available engine was discov- ered in the inquisition, which was soon to be organized for the purpose of ferreting out heresy in its most se- cret recesses. In the year 1215, an imposing General Council assembled, which for the first time formally declared it to be the cloo;ma of the church that the bread and wine in the Eucharist were miraculously transubstantiated into the body and blood of Christ. The leaders of the reaction were far-seeing men, aware that the growing reason was fed by the direct access to the Scriptures ; and in order to extirpate heresy by the root, the influential Council of Toulouse in 1229 declared it a sin for the laity to be found in the pos- session of the Bible, or to read even the Psalter or the Breviary in the vernacular. 1 1 Labbe, Concilia, torn. xiii. p. 1239. " Ne laiei habeant libros scripturse, prseter psalterium et Diviuum officium ; at eos libros ne habeant in vulgari lingua." 214 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. V. The severe measures taken for the repression of heresy may have had the effect of making the students of dialectics more cautious in their treatment of the dogmas of the church. The tendency to speculation had been so far checked that Mysticism seemed for a while to have taken its place, and contemplation to have been regarded as a better method than intellectual analysis for gaining an insight into the deeper things of the Christian faith. At this juncture of intellect- ual depression, it was a fortunate thing that Peter the Lombard was able to execute successfully the delicate task of interpreting the consciousness of the mediaeval church, and to express in his " Book of Sentences " those opinions regarding Christian truth which were most in accordance with the mind of the age, and most in harmony with its ecclesiastical institutions. The " Book of Sentences " met with a wonderful suc- cess; it became the standard of orthodoxy, and was stamped with the formal approval of the church in the great council of 1215, the most important synod which had yet been held in the Latin church. It now be- came possible for those who wished to be orthodox to use their reason within the limits marked out by the church, without fear of transgressing those limits through ignorance of what the church intended to teach. But although the church seemed to have been suc- cessful in banishing heresy, there still remained the unsettled question concerning the relation between reason and faith, out of which had grown the free thought and liberalism of the twelfth century. To adjudicate this issue, or to make some compromise TRANSITION FROM PLATO TO ARISTOTLE. 215 with the human reason, was the task of theology in the thirteenth century, and until this was done the great ecclesiastical reaction was not complete. The theolo- gian who accomplished this peculiar work for his age was Thomas Aquinas (1227-1274). In order to ap- preciate his peculiar place in the history of theology, it is necessary to glance for a moment at the inner history of Scholasticism from the time of Anselm. The doctrine of " universals," as it is called, or the conflict between nominalism and realism, important as it was in the history of mediaeval theology, should not be allowed to obscure another issue of deeper impor- tance, — the transition which took place from Plato- nism to Aristotelianism as the basis of Latin theology. 1 The earlier Scholastic theologians had been Platonists. The impetus given by John Scotus Erigena to the thought of Plato was seen after a lapse of two centu- ries to be still working in the mind of Anselm, though he may have been primarily indebted for his knowl- edge of the Platonic philosophy to the encyclopaedic works of Augustine, in which was contained sufficient information regarding it — which Augustine had fortunately not retracted — to enable an independent thinker to work out for himself its relation to Chris- tian thought. The same was true of Abelarcl, whose knowledge of Greek philosophy was confined chiefly to Plato, and whose acquaintance with Aristotle ex- tended only to his small treatise upon logic. The study of Plato in the Middle Ages seems to have been asso- 1 Realism underlay the Greek theology, and was part of its inheritance from Plato, from whom also Augustine inherited it, transmitting it in a debased form to the mediaeval church. The question in historical theology is, what is the true realism upon which the highest Christian thought is based. 216 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. ciated not only with an exalted estimate of the powers of the human reason, but to have led to a skepticism regarding the dogmas of the Latin church, — a result which was natural enough, inasmuch as Augustine had given shape to those dogmas only after his aban- donment of philosophy in the interest of ecclesiastical authority. But there was still another result from this alliance between Scholasticism and Plato, — a modification in the conception of Deity which was so totally foreign to the prevailing Latin idea, that it was felt instinctively, especially in its grosser mani- festations, to be utterly irreconcilable with the spirit and aim of Latin Christianity. The pantheism of the twelfth century as seen in Amalric of Bena, David of Dinanto, and Simon of Tournay, and in its popular forms among the " Brethren of the Free Spirit," may have been partly owing to a natural reaction from the growing importance attached by the church to the localization of Christ in the Eucharist. But this mod- ification in the thought about God, which in its higher form was a return to the doctrine of the divine imma- nence, was also connected with the influence of Plato- nism ; it appeared in John Scotus, and has been traced even in the speculations of Anselm. 1 1 It has often been remarked that the Scholastic realism was but a step removed from what is commonly called pantheism. Even Anselm's famous argument for the existence of God is not free from a suspicion of the same tendency. That the mind has a necessary idea of a perfect being, and that therefore such a being exists, was a method of proof accepted not only by Des- cartes, but by Spinoza and Malebranche. It was the opinion of Hegel also that with a slight modification, which would bring out more clearly the idea in Anselm's mind, this so-called a-priori demonstration of the existence of God was a strong statement of the truth that because God in-dwells in the reason, therefore the TENDENCY OF PLATO TO RATIONALISM. 21 rr That the tendency of Platonism, rightly understood, was not toward the doctrine of the immanence of God is evident from the whole purpose of his philosophy. But the so-called Platonism of the Middle Ages was that religious interpretation of Plato's thought by the school of Alexandria which had attempted to reconcile his teaching: with a certain leaven of Stoic influence. For this reason it was necessary that Scholastic theol- ogy should abandon Plato, if the cardinal tenet of Latin Christianity was to be maintained, — the doc- trine of the transcendence of Deity and His isolation from the world. For this reason it turned by a true instinct to Aristotle, who like Plato believed in a Deity outside the frame-work of the universe, but un- like Plato had not been mixed up with religious specu- lations foreign to his system or obscuring its leading idea. There were other reasons, also, why Aristotle should have supplanted Plato in the affections of the School-men. The tendency of the study of Plato in every age of its revival, has been to what is called rationalism, — to a dissatisfaction with things as they are and a desire to attain some ideal vision of beauty and perfection, the type of which abides in its purity necessary idea in the mind concerning God corresponds with the reality. See Remusat, Saint Anselme, p. 469. " Anselme est un Saint. Son orthodoxie ne fait pas question. II est reste une autorite dans les e*coles de theologie : et pourtant nous avons trouve dans ses ecrits quelques traces de Vinjiuence de la philosophic d* Alexandrie. Nous voyons une influence analogue se continuer dans une partie du cartesianisme qui a donne pretexte a Spinoza, et le tout est venu aboutir aux eloges de Hegel et de M. de Schelling." The great Scholastic theologians of the thirteenth century abandoned the a-priori method and adopted the a-posteriori as the only safe ground on which to maintain the existence of God. 218 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. in God. Aristotle on the other hand, whether justly or not, has always stood for that conservatism which maintains things as they are to be divine. To Platonic idealism, the world as it is is unsatisfactory, and Plato forever points away to a world where things corresj)ond to the perfection of their original divine idea. Aristotle sought to redeem the world from the neglect into which such an attitude would lead, and the importance which he gave to the physical sciences is in reality the practical mark which distinguishes his philosophy from Plato. When such a tendency ap- peared in the Middle Ages, viz. : to combat an ideal rationalism in the interest of existing institutions, it would practically appear as the application of Aris- totle to that which was most prominent in the con- sciousness of Christendom. The church was the one institution that seemed to belong to the eternal order of things. As it then existed, it had been existing for ages ; its long continuance and power stamped it as the clear expression of the mind and will of God. For this reason, the alliance of Scholastic theology with Aristotle seemed to place the great ecclesiastical reac- tion of the thirteenth century upon a stable basis in philosophical thought. And, still further, if there was to be any adjustment of the great issue between reason and faith, it was necessary that some authority should be placed over the reason, as there was already an authority for faith, — there must be a pope in philosophy as well as in theology. Hitherto, in the intellectual awakening of the twelfth century, the reason had seemed to flounder aimlessly about, producing as many differences of opinion as there were individual thinkers. Such di- varication and confusion was in its very nature obnox- ARISTOTLE A STANDARD FOR REASON. 219 ious to the spirit of Latin Christianity and defeated its essential aim. The church, therefore, set up a standard for the human reason, and henceforth the ob- ject of the Scholastic theology was not to reconcile its dogmas with reason, but with the Aristotelian philoso- phy. From the beginning of the thirteenth century, when the complete works of Aristotle were for the first time available in Latin translations, the Scholas- tic theologians 1 began their twofold line of commen- taries, on Aristotle's philosophy and on Lombard's sentences. Thus the triumph which the church had celebrated over the hostile attacks of the reason was believed to be rendered secure by the great knights of theology, who rode forth in its defense invulnerable to every assault in the double armor with which they were invested. This adoption of Aristotle as the ally of the Chris- tian faith has been often regarded as one of those dis- plays of an almost supernatural intuition by which the Latin church has been guided throughout its history. Certainly it was an expedient well calculated to meet the exigencies of the hour. But Aristotle concealed hidden dangers for the faith which were not seen at the time, or if they were it was thought they might be overcome. It is one among the many variations of Romanism, as it has sought to adapt itself to the changes which life always involves, that at first Aris- totle was suspected of being the subtle cause of the pantheism which was so extensively diffused in the last half of the twelfth century. 2 His name, it was 1 Alexander of Hales (ob. 1245) and Albert the Great (ob. 1280) were the first authorities for this combination. 2 The physical and metaphysical writings of Aristotle were condemned at a synod held in Paris in the year 1209. Cf. Labbd, Concilia, torn. xiii. p. 805. 220 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. well known, was in great repute with the Moham- medans, and the tendency which he stimulated to cul- tivate the study of outward nature was thought to be almost as dangerous to the faith as the disposition to confound God with the world. From the time of Aris- totle almost to the close of the Middle Ages nature remained a sealed book. There had come a revival for Plato in the early Christian centuries, but none for his successor. The world had lost its interest in the study of nature, and was preoccupied with spiritual and moral themes. Christian theology had held the field to itself from the time of Athanasius and Augus- tine, and no rival disputed its claims to be the one all-important, all-absorbing pursuit. Outward nature was not only rejected ; it had fallen into contempt, as unworthy the attention of spiritual men. Like the human body, which the ascetics despised and mal- treated, the outer world was a temporary prison house of the soul, originating out of nothing and destined to return to the non-existence from which it came. Just as fasting became a law of spiritual growth, and the nearer man could come to the condition of a disem- bodied spirit by denying the claims of the body to shelter, food, or clothing, the surer was his prospect of salvation ; so also outward nature was believed to have no inner relationship to the human spirit ; it was an evil thing, resting under the curse of God since Adam's fall. It was not in this world that the king- dom of God was to come, but in some other distant world, and the gaze of humanity was, like the cathe- drals which symbolized its attitude, away from earth to heaven. From the time when Augustine fixed the dogma of original sin as the controlling principle in psychology as well as in theology, mankind stood DANGERS IN A NEW DIRECTION. 221 alone in its isolation, apart from nature on the one hand, and apart from God on the other. In all this there was a great purpose to be achieved in the di- vine economy. It was necessary that, through the long-continued cultus of the immortal spirit as the ex- clusive object of human interest and attention, man should come to the consciousness of himself and should realize, as it had never been realized before, that he was not a part of nature or identified wholly with its life, but distinct from it as something higher and with a higher destiny. The old nature religions, against which Latin Christianity had been from the first a sturdy protest, merged God in humanity and human- ity in the life of nature. It had been the work of the Latin church and hitherto its mission, to sharply draw the lines between them ; to carry God to a dis- tance on the one hand, and as far as possible annihi- late all communion with nature on the other. 1 From the time of the introduction of Aristotle's physical studies to the West, there had begun to be manifested an interest in the outer world and its phe- nomena, which was the harbinger of an impending revolution in the distant future. It was evident that the mysterious relationship which man holds by a law of the creation to the external world could no longer be overlooked, nor could its study much longer be de- ferred as a dangerous pursuit carried on by an un- earthly compact with the spirit of darkness. The 1 " In history the divine element lies hid ; is missed at the time, even by those who are its vehicle ; and does not parade itself in what they consciously design, but lurks in what they un- consciously execute. It comes forth at the end of the ages, — the retrospect of many generations instead of the foresight of one." — Martineau, Studies of Christianity, p. 292. 222 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. sentiment of distrust in regard to Aristotle's influence which at first prevailed was in some respects wiser, so far as the interests of Latin Christianity were con- cerned, than the second sober thought which placed him as sovereign over the reason. For the Latin church was still true to its original purpose, and had these two distinct objects to maintain as essential to its existence and the fulfillment of its mission — on the one hand to hold humanity distinct and separate from God, and on the other to insist upon a like sepa- ration between man and the world of outward nature. The difficulty was to conjoin the two purposes with equal success. Monasticism or asceticism, which flour- ished under the first line of Scholastic theologians with whom Plato had been the authority, could not long continue to thrive under the sovereignty of Aris- totle. The " spirit in the air" in the beginning of the thirteenth century was felt in the monastic ranks, and gave rise to two new orders, the Franciscan and the Dominican, which mark an epoch in the history of as- ceticism. Both orders showed a peculiar susceptibility to the changes which were taking place in the environ- ment of human life. While they endeavored to inten- sify in their practice the ascetic principle, and to all outward appearance seemed to embody the spirit of the great ecclesiastical reaction, with whose triumph their rise coincides, yet they sustained a very different relation to the world from the orders of the Bene- dictine family of monks. The principle of seclusion was modified, or practically abandoned, which tied each monk to his domicile ; Franciscans and Domini- cans went forth into the larger world where they could not avoid the influences which were undermining the institutions of ascetism. Such were the dangers for THOMAS AQUINAS. 223 which no mode of escape had been provided when Aristotle was approved by the church as the guide of the human reason. If the outer world should come to be regarded as sacred, and man were to be allowed to feel at home within it as the work of God which was very good — and to such a result the philosophy of Aristotle must tend — then it was all over, not only with monasticisin and its ascetic observances, but the church itself, as an ark of deliverance from the miseries of this evil world, was likewise eventually doomed to succumb to some higher conception of the nature of Christian redemption. The greatness of Thomas Aquinas as a theologian has been universally admitted, though the grounds upon which his distinction rests have not always been clearly discerned. While his sensitive spirit was sus- ceptible to every living impulse that stirred his age, he saw with peculiar directness the dangers that threatened the church, and saw also, or thought he did, how the danger was to be averted. To him mainly it was owing that Aristotle assumed his sway over the reason, becoming in the sphere of the natural life a precursor of Christ, as John the Baptist had been in the sphere of the spiritual. Aquinas also applied the corrective to that tendency in Aristotle's philosophy, which, if not checked, might lead to an exaggerated estimate of the importance of the physical sciences, — to the sanctity of the outer world as diminishing the sanctity of the church. To this end he drew his famous distinction between the kingdom of nature and the kingdom of grace, 1 a dis- 1 This distinction between the kingdoms of nature and of grace had been first made by Albertus Magnus, of whom Aquinas was 224 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. tinction which he carried out in every direction and applied to every interest of human life. He accepted at once the fact of a kingdom of nature, and though he had not interrogated nature for himself, but had done so with Aristotle's eyes, yet he recognized and denned what he regarded as its proper sphere. It was a graded kingdom, with a hierarchy proceeding upwards from the lowest grades of life till it reached its crown and completion in man. But over against this kingdom, and above it, resting upon it indeed, as the spirit de- pends upon the body, towered the kingdom of grace, of which the church is the external embodiment. Like all his illustrious predecessors in Latin Christendom, he simply assumed the existence of the church as a hierarchy, which, proceeding upwards through the grades of clergy to the vicar of Christ on earth, found its continuation in angels and archangels, and its cul- mination in the throne of God. These two kingdoms of nature and grace are everywhere distinct from each other ; the lower does not pass over into the higher, but is separated from it, as if it were simply its outer vestibule. The only door which opens from the pupil. Cf. Ritter, Die Christliche Philosophie, p. 640. It be- longs to Aquinas, in so far as he appropriated it, and because his reputation in the church eclipsed that of his teacher. Haureau has remarked upon the relation between the two : " Les juge- ments de la posterite ne sont pas toujours equitables. Elle devait un eclatant hommage au genie de Saint Thomas, mais elle a manque de justice lorsqu'elle a donne son nom a la doctrine de l'ecole dominicaine : cette doctrine est 1'csuvre d'Albert-le-Grand. . . . Ayant done proteste centre Finjure faite a la memoire d'Albert-le-Grand, reconnaissons que Saint Thorias a consider- ablement developpe le systeme de son maitre et l'a revetu de- cette forme solonelle, doctrinale, sous laquelle il est parvenu jusqu'a nous." — De la Philosophic Scolastique, ii. p. 104. KINGDOMS OF NATURE AND GRACE. 225 the lower into the higher is the sacrament of bap- tism, where the natural man, who has received a natural life at birth, receives a supernatural gift which constitutes his birth into the kingdom of' errace. Iii the life of humanity, considered as belonging to these separate kingdoms, there was a twofold mani- festation, represented by the secular affairs of the state or the empire on the one hand, with the em- peror at its head, and by the church or sphere of spiritual things on the other hand, where reigns a higher potentate, — the pope as the vicar of Christ. There were the natural virtues capable of being ac- quired by unaided efforts, such as the natural man even in heathendom might possess, and which have their reward in conducing to a natural happiness ; and there were the supernatural virtues infused into the soul by sacramental grace, which have also their re- ward in conducting to supernatural bliss. There was also a natural theology whose contents might be read or demonstrated by the natural reason, — such as the existence of God, the creation of the world, and the im- mortality of the soul. So much of a concession Aquinas was forced to make in deference to Aristotle or the well- known features of Mohammedan religion. But the natural reason could not discern, nor could it demon- strate to be true, the contents of a revealed or super- natural religion which must therefore be received on authority. This revealed theology includes the doc- trines of the incarnation, the trinity, original sin, the sacraments, purgatory, the final judgment, and end- less punishment. But because the contents of natural theology could have been discovered only by a few, they, too, are included within the revelation, in order to their more general diffusion. The scope, therefore, 15 226 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. of revealed theology as a science becomes an all-com- prehensive one, for it treats of God in all His rela- tions, whether to the kingdom of nature by His power, or to the church by His grace. Of such a system it is evident that if it should commend itself to the religious sentiment of the age, it would suppress any inordinate or unhealthy activity in the kingdom of nature which threatened the time- honored supremacy of the kingdom of grace. And, indeed, it did more for the church than all the repres- sive measures which had been devised to extirpate heresy. It was a view easily conceived as a whole, and, in all its bearings, it seemed rational and carried conviction to the religious mind. So strong is its rationality and cohesiveness when once its premises have been admitted, that it has ever since had a ten- dency to reappear among those who are leading the way in ecclesiastical reactions. It has the advantage also of opening up a field for the activity of the reason, so capacious that its boundaries are not imme- diately felt as a hindrance. For Aquinas assumed, as upon his principles he was justified in doing, that the revelation was not contrary to reason, but only above reason, as the kingdom of grace is above the kingdom of nature ; and therefore if reason could allege objec- tions against revealed religion, the reason also was competent to meet and overcome them. Thus was afforded a large scope for the dialectic activity of the School-men, without endangering the stability of dog- matic authority. The basis of Latin theology, as it had existed from the time of Tertullian or Augustine, remained un- changed in the system of Aquinas. God conceived as outside of and remote from the world, communi- RELATION OF AQUINAS TO HIS AGE. 227 eating with nature by His power or with the church by His grace, was the primary assumption which reg- ulated and bound together in harmony the tenets of his theology. That body of opinions which, from an early period, had been developed in the Latin church in order to maintain the economy of ecclesiastical administration, these he identified with the original divine revelation. The episcopate as the continuator of the apostolate, in which, by virtue of succession, inhered the gifts or deposit of truth and grace and authority, — a consolidated body which found in the pope, as the vicar of Christ, its head, mouth-piece, and bond of unity ; human nature as essentially foreign to and incompatible with the divine ; the incarnation as an arbitrary and mysterious arrangement for which it was conceivable some substitute might have been found ; revelation as the communication of facts and doctrines, — a certain amount of information for which man has no inward aptitude in the reason, the accept- ance of which on the authority of the episcopate or the church constitutes the merit of faith ; the priest- hood as intrusted with miraculous power through the grace of ordination, offering a veritable sacrifice which had power to take away sin, and therefore an indis- pensable mediator between God and man ; salvation only through the grace that comes by sacraments ; transubstantiation, purgatory, indulgences, by which the church on earth manifests its power over the un- seen world and human destiny in the future, — these were the dogmas concerning; the truth of which it is said that Aquinas never knew what it w r as to have a doubt, — dogmas which he fortified by a clearer and more positive enunciation. The theology of Aquinas was the development, in 228 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. its full splendor and practical realization, of that which the Latin church had begun to dream of from its infancy. It marks the church in the hour of its completest triumph, when, after overcoming every other power, it made, or seemed to make, the con- quest of the human reason. It holds the same rela- tionship to religious thought and life in the Middle Ages that Innocent the Great sustained to the polit- ical and ecclesiastical institutions of his time, — it reflects the consciousness of Latin Christendom in the century that followed his reign, when, for nearly a hundred years, the papacy exercised an almost un- disputed supremacy over Western Europe. As a sys- tem, it has become a part of the world's literature through Dante's imagination, and may be still read in the " Divine Comedy," 1 as it appeared to a great poetic genius who lived and died within the inclosure of its thought. But just as there were elements at work in the thirteenth century which were secretly weakening the foundations of papal authority, so that the humilia- tion of Boniface (1294-1303) by Philip the Fair of France was an event whose antecedents grew out of the very conditions which had seemed to secure papal autocracy, so there were elements also in the theology of Aquinas which were not altogether in harmony with the spirit of Latin Christianity^ — rudiments, as it were, of a higher faith which could not be brought into subjection to the ruling idea of his formal sys- tem. It is probable that the rivalry between the two great orders of mendicant monks stimulated Duns Scotus 1 For the traces of Aquinas' theology in Dante, see Ozanam, Dante et la Philosophie Catholique au 13"* e Siecle. CRITICISM OF DUNS SCOTUS. 229 (1265-1308) in his effort to find the weak points in the position of the Angelic Doctor. For Aquinas had lent great renown to the Dominican order, as well as gained the gratitude of the whole church for the ser- vices he had rendered to the faith, while the Francis- cans were as yet without a representative theologian. It is true, also, that the captious, hair-splitting ten- dency in the dialectics of the School-men received a great impetus from Duns Scotus, which tended to bring the whole method into ridicule. But however this may be, there is no reason for doubting his intel- lectual sincerity, although it may still remain an enigma by what common principle the various criti- cisms which he made upon the theology of Aquinas can- be included in one consistent system of thought. Every great thinker has been followed by a Duns Sco- tus. Indeed, it is inevitable in the interest of free- dom and of progress that the human mind should rebel against a system like that of Aquinas, which definitely fixed all tilings in heaven and earth without the need of any further inquiry, and stamped the whole result with the assumption of infallibility. To the mind of Aquinas, theology was a comprehen- sive, universal science, embracing the whole range of human thought concerning God, humanity, and the world in a system of absolute truth. Duns Scotus, on the other hand, regarded theology as practical wisdom for the regulation of the life, dismissing its larger re- lationships as beyond the ken of human intelligence. The defect in Aquinas' attitude, to his view, was its exaggerated estimate of the importance of the human reason. Hence he reduced the contents of what Aqui- nas called natural theology ; he admitted that the rea- son might attain to the idea of God, but the doctrines 230 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. of the creation of the world out of nothing, and of the immortality of the soul, were beliefs that reason could not demonstrate, and must be relegated to the sphere of revealed religion. Aquinas had maintained, on the grounds of reason, that this was the best pos- sible of worlds, but Duns Scotus disputed that the reason was entitled to make such an affirmation ; all that could be said was, that it was such a world as it had pleased God to create. The doctrine of the atone- ment, as Anselm had stated it, and as the later School- men generally received it, had to Duns Scotus no foundation in nature or in the fitness of things, — it was simply an arbitrary arrangement, the results to be accomplished by which, God might, had He willed, have attained in some other way. But while thus ap- parently disparaging the reason, and disowning any such authority as Aristotle for its standard, he was in- clined to assert an inward kinship between the divine and the human, which resembles the fundamental pos- tulate of Greek theology. Duns Scotus did not, there- fore, lay the same emphasis upon the doctrine of grace, nor did he maintain the sharp distinction between the kingdoms of nature and of grace, but rather inclined to lessen the difference between the natural and the supernatural. Throughout his whole system, Aquinas had, as Duns Scotus thought, not only exaggerated the power of the reason, but he had lost sight of the high significance of the will, whether in God or man, or had so subordinated the will to the reason as to weaken its efficiency or destroy its creative activity. 1 Duns 1 Le volontarisme de Duns Scot est a Vintellectualisme de Thomas (Aquinas) ee que le Kant de la Critique de la raison pratique sera au Kant de la Critique de la raison pure, et ce que le panthelisme de Schopenhauer sera au panlogisme de Hegel. Weber, Histoire de la Philosophie Europtenne, p. 225. VARIATIONS OF ROMANISM. 231 Scotus affirmed the freedom of the will, as it is gen- erally said, after a Pelagian fashion ; he denied the doctrine of predestination, which Aquinas had taught with Augustine, and asserted that the highest virtue or merit in man lay in the obedience which he was freely able to render by the capacity of his nature. Such a system might seem to dispense with the neces- sity of the church, but Duns Scotus assigned to the church a higher prerogative than even Aquinas had done, if that were possible, for his denial of the claims of the reason tended to throw men back upon its abso- lute authority as the only recipient of a divine reve- lation. These divergencies between the two master minds who stood at the close of the papal dispensation are sufficient to reveal that, despite the efforts of Aquinas to regulate the reason, and to adjust its relation to ex- ternal authority, he had not succeeded. Differences like these in the two systems of theology, which from this time began to divide the allegiance of the schools, show the confusion into which mediaeval thought had fallen, and from which it was powerless to extricate itself wit! out revolutionizing the basis of Latin the- ology. The only point which Aquinas and Duns Sco- tus held in common was the authority of the church ; and this was a bond which, while uniting them, was also the cause of the contradictions and confusions that marked their thought. Whatever they had suc- ceeded in doing or failed to do, one thing had been rendered clear by their labors, — that Latin theology was dependent for its authority upon the Latin church, and must be subordinated to the end of maintaining its undiminished prestige. The differences that have been enumerated between 232 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. the systems of Aquinas and Duns Seotus, however significant they are in themselves, or as permissible variations in Latin theology, gain a deeper signifi- cance when we trace them to their source in the con- flicting ideas of God which were entertained by these two representative theologians. 1 In the theology of Aquinas, the will of God is viewed as the reflection of a divine character or reason, which is, as it were, the groundwork of the divine being. With Duns Seo- tus, there lies no character behind the divine will to which it conforms ; the will of God is the ultimate factor in His existence, — an absolute, arbitrary, uncon- ditioned will, which is the only ground of right. Ac- cording to Aquinas, it is possible to regard righteous- ness or goodness as constituting the essence of Deity, and to view the divine will as the necessary expression of His moral nature. Hence, righteousness, as the human reason may discern it, becomes the law in ac- cordance with which the universe is organized and di- rected. The action of the divine will does not create right, but is the expression of a righteousness that lies ba^k of the will, to which the will must conform. All this is reversed in the thought of Duns Seotus. The will of God is the highest, divinest quality in God, the motive power of all that is, the only sanction which gives validity to the reason. God does not command what is good because it is good, but the good is such because He commands it. 1 In the question discussed by Aquinas and Duns Seotus, — whether there was in God a divine essence to be distinguished from His attributes, — was raised one of the deepest and most fundamental issues in theology. A summary of the discussion is given in Morin, Dictionnaire de Philosophie et de Theologie Scolas- tiques, i. pp. 951 ft". CONFLICTING IDEAS OF GOD. 233 Theories like these may seem to have no connection with the experience of life or with our insight into the ways of God in the world. But history teaches that human convictions about the nature of God, however abstruse or speculative they may appear, do yet control the fate of races and of institutions. And of these two theories it may be said that they are charged with momentous consequences for civilization as well as re- ligion. It is only when we look at them in their his- torical embodiment, as they have been lived out in hu- man experience, that we are able to try them by more tangible tests than the dialectics of metaphysical sub- tlety. The conception of God as maintained by Aquinas is substantially identical with Plato's " idea of the good " 1 which had passed from Plato as a ruling prin- ciple into Greek theology. In Aquinas, indeed, it ap- pears but imperfectly developed, and does not have its full influence upon his thought, owing to the limita- tions of the Latin church and the tenets which he received on its authority. But the natural tendency of such a conviction, freely working itself out, is to elevate humanity by bringing it into closer relation- ship with God, by affirming in the human constitution the same essential relationship between the reason and the will, as it exists in God : it is a conviction which ennobles and consecrates the reason by regarding it as endowed with a constitutional capacity for the discern- 1 " If it is the Idea of the Good which imparts to things their Being, to intelligence its capacity for knowledge, if it is called the source of all truth and beauty, the parent of light, the source of reality, it is not merely the end but the ground of all Being, efficient force, cause absolute." — Zeller, Plato and the Old Acad- emy, p. 282. 234 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. ment of truth and righteousness ; it emancipates the will by viewing it as predetermined, like the divine will, to execute the law of its being which is grounded in right. In the history of theology it marked a crisis when Augustine practically abandoned this conception of Deity, and fell back to the belief that God was ab- solute will whose decree alone makes righteousness, who reveals a system of regulative information which man must receive on external authority, who elects to salvation or condemns to endless misery by arbitrary determinations, to examine into or to question which is presumption and impiety. The outcome of this be- belief, in Augustine or in later Latin theology, may have been modified by a Christian influence from which they could not escape ; but in Mohammedanism, where the principle is seen working out unchecked its natural consequences, it resulted in a complete di- vorce between God and humanity, it made the reason powerless, it robbed the conscience of any inward im- pulse, it reduced morality to a slavish fear, — a cring- ing obedience to omnipotent power ; and the fatalism which it induced in religion when operating in the state deprived its civilization of those elements of en- terprise and hope which make possible the stages of human progress. Of these two ways of apprehending the being of God, that of Duns Scotus — that He is the uncondi- tioned arbitrary will — is more in harmony with the spirit of Latin Christianity. This underlying belief may be traced in those ideas of the church as consist- ing in the episcopate, or of the revelation as a deposit intrusted to its charge, which were so fundamental that they had been the axioms of Latin Christianity from the time of Tertullian. The same belief is al- THEIR ILLUSTRATION IN HISTORY. 235 ways and everywhere the principle of imperialism or despotism in church or state, — the principle which is invoked in the call for the " strong man " as he ap- pears in history. When the Protestant Reformation brought great disasters to the Latin church in the six- teenth century, Ignatius Loyola led again an ecclesi- astical revival, under the conviction that the church as it then existed, unreformed and unchanged, was the absolute expression of the divine will, and that to serve the church, by whatever methods, was to contrib- ute to the greater glory of God. With this convic- tion Calvin arose, one might say that with it he seems to have been born — that God's will must at all haz- u ards be made supreme. The existence and work of Loyola made Calvin not only necessary but indispen- sable for the nascent Protestantism. Both men were building upon the same foundation — the only differ- ence was that Loyola said the divine will was ex- pressed in the institution of the Latin church, while .. Calvin maintained that its only expression was to be found in Scripture, In the long and fierce duel be- tween the followers of these two leaders, it is not strange that the theology of Aquinas in the Roman church, as well as the Lutheran type of theology in the Protestant churches, should have sunk into abey- ance. The Jesuits have never had any great respect for Aquinas, but have always championed Dims Scotus as their favorite theologian ; l the Calvinists also have regarded the Lutheran theology as a halting, half- hearted attitude, if not a compromise between truth and error. 1 Most of the literature upon Duns Scotus belongs to the sev- enteenth century when the Jesuits were at the height of their activity. For a list of works then published cf. Franck, Diction- naire des Sciences I'hilosophiques, ii. p. 169. 236 THEOLOGY IN THE MIDDLE AGES. Once more in the history of Christianity, in our own age, an ecclesiastical reaction has been and still is in progress, which is based on the same, principle that inspired Augustine or Loyola. To the mind of a writer like De Maistre, seeking to impose again on the modern world the authority of an infallible pope as the highest expression of the will of God, the theol- ogy of Aquinas, even though illustrated with the bril- liancy of Bossuet's genius, seemed like shuffling, vacil- lating weakness. Carlyle, who at heart remained as he had been born, a sturdy Calvinist, presents in liter- ature the spectacle of one who finds no institution that responds to his ideal ; everywhere appears weakness, disorder, and confusion, accompanied with shallow talk about liberty ; he bewails the absence of the " strong man " upon whose portrait in history he gazed with fascinated vision, whose coming he invoked as the one crying need of the time. These illustrations may serve to show that what seem to be subtle theological distinctions are yet closely connected with the life and experience of men. The aim of the present occupant of the papal see to reinstate Aquinas in his former prestige, if it has any significance at all, indicates a purpose to overcome Jesuit influence, and to put the church, as far as is al- lowable, in harmony w r ith the reason. For this pur- pose it may be that no better instrument could have been chosen than the revival of the study of Aquinas. 1 1 For a criticism on the significance and probable results of this modern attempt to revive the study of Aquinas' philosophy, see an article entitled Philosophy in the Roman Church, by Thomas Davidson, in Fortnightly Review, July, 1882. The author is right in maintaining that Aquinas is hopelessly out of sympathy with what is highest and best in modern thought. But it is not the - MODERN REVIVAL OF AQUINAS. 237 It even constitutes a ground of hope that the renewed interest in his writings and their deeper perusal may yet lead Latin theologians to discover, that while he represents a past when the Latin church was in the noontide of its glory, he was also in some respects the prophet, though unconsciously to himself, of a larger and higher because more spiritual and more rational dispensation. 1 system of Aquinas, but the inconsistencies and contradictions in his theology, which may render its renewed study a means of profit and of advance. 1 The best works in English upon the Scholastic philosophy are Bishop Hampden's Bampton Lectures for 1832 — The Scholastic- Philosophy in its Relation to Christian Theology ; and Maurice, Mediaeval Philosophy. Bishop Hampden traced clearly the preva- lence of mediaeval modes of thought and expression in the current Protestant theology, and in this lies the special value of his book. Other works which maybe consulted are Haureau, De la Philoso- phic Scolastique ; Rousselot, Etudes sur la Philosophie dans le Moyen Age ; Kaulich, Geschichte der Scholastischen Philosophie ; Stockl, Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, — all of them dealing mainly with the relation of scholasticism to speculative thought. Ritter, Die Christliche Philosophie, is the best exposition of its relation to the progress of religious thought. The most elaborate treatise on the theological bearings of Scholasticism is Morin, Dictionnaire de Philosophie et de Theologie Scolastiques ; but its labored and voluminous expositions lack an intellectual perspective. It professes to be a dictionary, but its object is to defend the Roman Catholic theology. Of its value there can be no doubt. Among the general histories of philosophy that of Ueberweg is the best. THEOLOGY IN THE AGE OF THE REFORMATION. Justificati ergo ex fide, pacem habeamus ad Deum per Dominum nos- trum Jesum Christum. — Rom. v. 1. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. A. D. 1300. [c] Occam teaches nominalism at Paris. 1309-1377. Papacy at Avignon. 1324-1384. Wycliffe. 1329. [c ] Death of Eckart. 1348-1350. Pestilence of the Black Death. 1361. [c.j Tauler died. 1380-1471. Thomas a Kempis. 1383. Wycliffe's Translation of the Bible. 1415. Martyrdom of Huss. 1440. Discovery of the Art of Printing. 1453. Fall of Constantinople. 1467-1536. Erasmus. 1483-1546. Martin Luther. 1484-1531. Zwingle. 1491-1556. Ignatius Loyola. 1497-1568. Melancthon. 1498. Savonarola died at the stake. 1509-1564. Calvin. 1517. Posting of the Theses. 1521. Diet of Worms. 1529. Discussion between Luther and Zwingle 1545. Opening of the Council of Trent. 1553. Servetus burnt at Geneva. THEOLOGY IN THE AGE OF THE REFORMATION. i The period known as the Middle Ages reached its culmination in the thirteenth century. Up to that time, as it has been said, there was lurking in every movement the spirit of a Hilde brand ; after it every- thing pointed to a Luther. For two centuries before the Reformation, the Latin church was slowly losing its hold upon the reason and the conscience of Chris- tendom. When Luther appeared, he only declared the result which had been already accomplished. The decline of the Latin church as an institution implied the ultimate abandonment of that system of doctrine which is known as Latin Christianity. It had been from the first an economizing of the Christian revela- tion in the interest of an episcopal hierarchy, which had successfully claimed the right to teach and govern the world in the place of Christ. As a system of doctrines, it had been constructed in obedience to one test, — its fitness or utility for holding mankind in subjection to an external authority. When that au- thority was no longer needed, or could be no longer maintained, the system of doctrines which it had up- held miffht indeed lon^ continue to survive through the conservative force of tradition, or through its lin- gering hold upon the imagination ; but the time must come when it would appear as untrue to the divine 16 242 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. revelation, as a hindrance to the growth of the human spirit. The age before the Reformation reveals the Latin jchurch in a state of hopeless decline. None of the 'peculiar institutions of the Middle Ages came any more to its help against the forces that were slowly but surely compassing its downfall. Monasticism put forth no more fresh outshoots full of life and vigor, as in the days of Hildebrand or Bernard or Innocent the Great. The old orders partook of the general de- cline which touched everything that the mediaeval spirit had inspired. The corruptions that were bred within the cloister were an evidence that as an insti- tution monasticism had outlived its usefulness, and was out of harmony with the larger life of the time. Scholasticism also, which in the days of Aquinas had turned back the tide of skepticism, could no longer avail itself of the compromise with the reason which the Angelic Doctor had proclaimed ; it not only showed no energy in defending the church's teaching, but in order to save philosophy it proclaimed an absolute divorce between religion and speculative thought, leav- ing the church to defend itself as best it could without the aid of reason. Most of "those who still bore the scholastic mantle settled down to the skeptical con- clusion, that what was false in philosophy might yet be true in theology. At a time when the church most needed every support which could contribute to sus- tain its decaying strength, it was deserted by the rea- son. The reason which had been treated with distrust and suspicion, which the church had sought to humil- iate as its vassal, was now taking its revenge. As to the papacy, when in the fourteenth century it fled from Rome and took refuge in Avignon, it was WHY THE PAPACY DECLINED. 243 seen as abandoning the rock from which it had been hewn, and the pit from which it was digged. It could then be contemplated as a thing apart from the mys- terious source of its greatness, and the result was a blow at its prestige from which it never recovered. That the papacy could not be regarded as the source whence a new life might spring up for the regenera- tion of the church was evident from the papal con- flicts with itself ; it was becoming the heaviest burden which the church had to carry. It was only by pro- claiming that there was a power in Christendom su- perior to the popes, and by which they could be pun- ished or made amenable to law, that the hopes of reform continued for generations to be nourished. If we ask for the causes which explain this appar- ently sudden decline of the papacy, and with it of the ascendency of the mediaeval church, they are to be found in a reversal of that process which had accom- panied its first appearance in history. The papacy rose at a time when men were unable or no longer free to think for themselves, when they had ceased to be competent to the task of self-government. Its career drew to a close when men were once more able to re- sume the office which in their weakness they had del- egated to a priesthood, when they were once more free to think for themselves. The reason and conscience of humanity had outgrown the papacy, and refused to be held by its leading-strings. The tide which had been rising in the history of the popes, from the time of Leo the Great in the fifth century, had now begun to go out. The work of the popes was done, and He who had raised an institution so unwelcome in its first appearance, but so necessary, was now removing it or gently letting it down from its old supremacy. 244 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. No institutions which have played a large part in human history have lived in vain. Bef ore they decline or disappear, they yield up to the larger life of human- ity the secret of their success or influence. As his- tory evolves its contents, and its seemingly uncon- scious purpose is disclosed, that which had appeared most untrue or antagonistic to the spirit of Christ's religion is seen to have subserved the progress of mankind. The worship of relics, which was so prominent a feature in mediaeval life, had, in the absence of litera- ture or the want of ability to use it, ministered to the desire to get nearer to historic events and personages, or to realize more vividly their existence ; it had stim- ulated pilgrimages to holy places, which had finally culminated in the great Crusades. The Crusades in turn changed the shape of society, broke down feudal- ism, and prepared the way for modern states ; they en- larged the narrow horizon of Christendom by bringing it into contact with Mohammedan culture and civiliza- tion ; they concentrated its gaze upon Christ, and in- tensified the consciousness of the Christian principle in contrast with that of Islam. Even by their failure to accomplish their direct aim — the wresting of the holy sepulchre from the hands of the infidel — they damaged irretrievably the prestige of the Latin church, for the popes had committed Christendom to the at- tempt, and could not evade the consequences which it entailed. The worship of saints, which under one aspect was a disowning of the perfect humanity of Christ, and the substitution for it of lower ideals, was yet a testimony, in however debased a form, to the belief that human- ity had been redeemed, — that in its inmost being it THE MEDIEVAL CULT US. 245 was affiliated with the divine nature ; out of saint- worship had grown the miracle-plays, which were the germs of the modern drama ; in the lives of the saints as they were read or commemorated, were the rude beginnings of the study of history as something deeper and more inward than a mere chronicle of events. The production of images was the preliminary step to Christian art, whose glory it was to have anticipated the long and arduous process of theological thought. The separation between humanity and Deity was over- come for the popular mind when artists, discarding conventional symbols like the halo, which had hitherto been considered necessary for representing the divine as distinct from the human, were content to see in per- fect humanity the manifestation of God. In the ten- dency of painting to concentrate attention upon human personality, in its aim to reproduce upon the canvas the likeness of the inward spirit, may be seen a prepa- ration for receiving the truth that in the human con- sciousness lies the reflection of a divine image. The papacy had served the purpose of consolidating \ the different races of Europe into one great family, so that they could never again lose the sense of relation- ship ; it had held men under subjection to an external law until they were able to hear a voice that spoke within ; it had served as the conscience of the people at a time when otherwise they would have been mute under the oppression or brute force of the civil power. 1 1 " There is a spirit of community in the modern world which has always been regarded as the basis of its progressive improve- ments, whether in religion, politics, manners, social life, or litera- ture. To bring about this community, it was necessary that the western nations should at one period constitute what may be 246 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. Monasticisni had stood for the idea that human sal- vation was not a mechanical process by which the col- lective mass of humanity, within the communion of the church, was to be lifted by no effort of its own in the kingdom of heaven. It was a protest in behalf of the truth, which in the Middle Ages most needed to be emphasized, that salvation demands the activity of all the faculties of one's being. In this aspect mo- nasticism was the assertion of the truth of individual responsibility. It declined as an institution because of the fearful perversion of which it had been guilty, — the abuse which it had heaped on things most di- vine, the neglect with which it treated a large range of human duties and relationships, whose right dis- charge is essential to the fullest salvation of man. But it did not decline till the truth which it had con- served, — the principle of individualism, — had been acknowledged as the basis of the coming reform. To this same end Scholasticism contributed, in the change which it underwent from realism to nominal- ism in the fourteenth century. Whatever may be the speculative estimate of its value, nominalism was in- dispensable to the work of reform by the importance which it attaches to the processes of the thinking mind. Its tendency was to emancipate the reason from the yoke of authority, to disperse a host of false concep- tions which embarrassed the mind in the search after truth, — especially to free the individual from bond- age to a mysterious species in which his distinct exist- ence was absorbed, to proclaim the man in his indi- callecl a single politico-ecclesiastical state. But this also was to be no more than the phenomenon of a moment in the grand march of events."— B,anke, Hist, of the Popes, i. p. 25. (Bohn ed.) INDIVIDUALISM AND THE CHURCH. 247 vidual responsibility as the unit with which God dealt directly in His government of the world. Other in- fluences were also combining to strengthen the same conviction. It had been one of the false assumptions of mediaeval theology, that those in the communion of the church who had been regenerated by baptism con- stituted, as it were, a distinct species marked off by sharp lines from the larger circle of humanity, to which they only belonged by some lower tie. In its origin this belief had sprung from a strong desire on the part of men to realize their oneness through the church. The terrors of the " dark ages," as the tenth century has been designated, had consolidated a fright- ened people and made them feel that their strength lay in union. The Latin church, in its aspect as the outcome of this conviction, had offered the possibility of a collective salvation to the mass within its fold. But the world was no longer to the imagination what it had been in the days of Augustine or Hildebrand. Men were besnnnin^ to feel themselves at home within it as in a universe where God was dwelling ; they no longer hesitated to explore its secrets or to travel till they reached its utmost bounds. As the times changed and the great outer world opened up its attractions to the eager gaze, the church as a secluded nursery for timid or despairing souls, under the guardianship of a vigilant hierarchy, must inevitably give way to the conception of a church which did not fear to trust an invisible head, in which each individual man stood in a personal relationship to an unseen but almighty Father. All through the period which preceded the Reforma- tion can be traced the reassertion of those divine ele- ments in the life of humanity which, since the time of 248 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. Augustine, had been suppressed or subordinated in the interest of the church, — nature, the state or nation, the family and the individual. So vitally are all these connected with the environment of man as God in- tended it, that the revival of one seemed to carry with it the restoration of all to their true dignity. We have already seen how the introduction of Greek phi- losophy through the writings of Aristotle had created an impulse toward the study of nature. Following closely in its train came the development of the na- tional consciousness. It was the proclamation of the sanctity of the state as an end in itself, in the regula- tion of whose affairs no external power had a right to interfere, which constituted the lever by which the papacy was overthrown. The popes never recovered from the humiliation of Boniface by Philip the Fair of France, in the beginning of the fourteenth century. The theory of the state in its relation to the church which Augustine had propounded, the realization of which by the great popes of the Middle Ages had made possible the retention of their supremacy over the civil power, could no longer be maintained in its ancient vigor, when men were convinced that the highest end of the nation was not merely to enforce by the might of its arm the legislation and policy of the church, but to consider its own well-being as its first and most sacred obligation. In the working out of this principle was involved the dismemberment of Christendom. It was not Luther who shattered a so- called Catholic unity into fragments, but the expan- sion of the national consciousness, whether in France, in Germany, or in England. This was the force which took from the church its temporal power, and by so doing initiated the process which was to restore it to INFLUENCE OF NATIONALISM. 249 its earlier and purer condition, when it was a perva- sive spiritual influence, depending upon its advocacy of truth and the voluntary recognition of its disciples for maintaining and extending its influence. Accompanying the growth of the national spirit was the development of the national languages as a vehicle for the expression of a people's thought. Nationalism, the use of the vernacular, and the desire for reform went hand in hand, whether in England or France, Germany or Italy. When the Latin language, which had been the sacred tongue into the mould of which the Christian revelation had been cast, was displaced by the vernacular, that repressive force was removed which had prevented the thoughts, the impulses, the longings of the people from finding a full and natural expression. 1 As we listen for the first fresh utterances of the people, as they found a voice in the rising national literatures, there is one tone which character- izes them all alike, — that of opposition to the hier- archy and the abuses which it was perpetuating. The evangelical reformers and the mystics of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, great as were the differences that divided them, were alike in their sym- pathy with the rising nationalism, alike also in using the vernacular as the means for the expression of their 1 " The language of the Roman people," says Heine, " can never belie its origin. It is a language of command for gener- als ; a language of decree for administrators ; an attorney lan- guage for usurers ; a lapidary speech for the stone-hard Roman people. . . . Though Christianity with a true Christian patience tormented itself for more than a thousand years with the attempt to spiritualize this tongue, its efforts remained fruitless ; and when John Tauler sought to fathom the awful abysses of thought and his heart overflowed with religious emotion he was impelled to speak German." 250 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. thought as well as for reaching the popular mind. Wycliffe was a statesman as well as a theologian, with a jealousy for his nation's honor ; Huss, who followed him, was equally unable to separate his theological convictions from his politics ; Savonarola was haunted by the vision of a perfect state, to the accomplishment of which in Florence he believed he had been divinely called. The mystic theology of Eckart, Tauler, and others was the first expression of the German con- sciousness, anticipating by centuries its maturer form in the systems, whether religious or philosophical, of our own age. I. Before treating of the differences that distinguish the two reformatory movements, known as the evan- gelical and the mystic, it is important to note the fea- tures which they possessed in common, by which both contributed to the revolution of the sixteenth century. Evangelical and mystic reformers were united in rejecting the theory upon which the authority of the hierarchy reposed. Both had ceased to regard the church as a mysterious entity, existing apart from the congregation, or as possessing in this capacity a " deposit " of supernatural trusts. The abandonment of this belief carried with it also the rejection of the principle of sacramental grace. This, too, had been a peculiarly Latin growth, of which Augustine had laid the dogmatic basis in his doctrine of original sin. AVlien God was thought of as at a distance, and man- kind was believed, in consequence of the catastrophe of Adam's fall, to have lost all inward divine capacity, it had seemed necessary that man should be restored THE RISE OF PREACHING. 251 and supported by influences infused into the soul from without. In Augustine's thought, redemption did not lie in the power of the incarnation, or in the personal influence of the present living Christ. To baptism and other sacramental channels was confided the oper- ation of a quality which was known as grace, — a quality or force which, infused into the soul, would enable it to rise above the dominion of sin, and abide in union with its Creator. So long as the sacramental theory prevailed, but lit- tle importance was assigned to preaching. In the Latin church, from the very earliest period, it had played a subordinate part ; whereas, in the Greek church, not only had the sermon constituted an impor- tant element in the worship, but even the liturgies had taken on a homiletic cast. The absence of preaching is one of the striking features of the mediaeval church. It cannot be accounted for altogether on the ground that the language of the people was not sufficiently developed for such a purpose. The sacramental the- ology dispenses with the need of preaching, for it pro- fesses to accomplish the end of preaching in another way. There were great preachers in the Middle Ages, but they rose in connection with the Crusades, when such a method was the only one of rousing the popular enthusiasm. Preaching, as a necessary and constituent part of religious culture, originated with the heretical sects of the twelfth century, such as the Cathari and the Waldenses. When its power was seen in diffus- ing heresy, the Dominicans seized upon it as equally effective for overcoming heresy. But even the Domin- icans, though they never gave up the principle, were unequal to the task of coping with heretical oratory, and it is very significant that into their hands should 252 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. have been intrusted the management of the inquisi- tion. It really required the combination of the two means to suppress obnoxious thought. Preaching, as a means of spiritual culture, presup- poses a divine constitution of the soul, a human nature charged with divine possibilities. Its object is, by forcible exhortation, by attractive presentation and re- iteration of the truth, to awaken the slumbering capac- ities of the soul into activity, to educate and strengthen that which is already divinely implanted in the germs, to evoke the divine that is in man, to feed the soul from within rather than from without. For such an end it was first used by the great mystics, Eckart and Tauier, in the pre-reformation age. Wycliffe maintained that preaching was the best work that a priest could do ; better than praying or ministering the sacraments. He showed his sense of its value by organizing his band of preachers to go throughout the kingdom proclaim- ing the gospel as it was then read in its freshness and novelty in the newly translated Bible. The power of the new preaching produced a marvelous effect ; the human soul responded to the spoken word as by an innate law of its being ; all the pomp and splendor of the church and its ritual were as nothing compared with the fascination which the people felt under the spell of the preacher, whose heart, glowing with the truth, appealed to their own hearts with irrepressible power, interpreting to them the vague motives and longings of the soul. Preaching became from this time a factor in human development, and prepared the way for the Reformation. When the Reformation was accomplished, it took its rightful place in the newly constituted churches, becoming the sacrament, as it were, of the larger faith. Under its influence the SCRIPTURE SUBSTITUTED FOR TRADITION. 253 confessional disappeared with its grace conveyed by- priestly absolution ; the preacher became the public confessor in the presence of the congregation ; the declaration of absolution was ratified by the enlight- ened conscience of the people, as the voice of God speaking in human hearts. When the principle of church authority, represented by the hierarchy as the ecclesla docens, was repudiated in the interest of reform, the appeal was taken by the evangelical reformers to the Bible as the word of God. Hitherto, in the long course of theological develop- ment, no attempt had been made to determine the rela- tion of the Bible to the authority of the church. The voice of the church had been assumed as final in all matters relating to the faith, and a practical infallibil- ity attributed to its decisions. When the evangelical reformers rejected the authority of the church, it be- came necessary to find another authority for the tenets of the Christian faith, to which all men could go alike in search of that absolute truth which God had com- municated to men. When from the time of Wycliffe the church began to tend toward the form of a consti- tutional monarchy in contrast with the absolutism of the papacy, it became necessary that it should be gov- erned in accordance with a clear and inviolable char- ter, instead of being subject to the arbitrary will of its former rulers. Wycliffe, and others like minded, while holding that the predestinated constituted the true though invisible church, were by no means dis- posed to sweep away the ecclesiastical organization, however they might have been inclined to dispense with the necessity of the pope, or been willing to make other changes in ecclesiastical and religious usages. But, whatever might be the form of its government, 254 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. the church must have its charter to which all could appeal, to which, as to a standard and au ideal, the government, the discipline, and the ritual of the church must necessarily conform. But the Bible now came to be regarded in a higher light than as a book for the people and a charter for the church. In the time of Wycliffe we stand on the eve of a long process, in which the Reformation is to be seen departing most widely from the whole method and spirit of the Middle Ages. When Thomas Aqui- nas first made the memorable distinction between nat- ural and revealed theology, he made a contribution to theological thought which was destined to play a part of the highest magnitude in the future, — a distinction which would survive and retain its vitality when all else in his system would be neglected or forgotten. In making this distinction, Aquinas, however, did little more than call attention to two different directions which the human mind might follow. On the one hand, it might explore more thoroughly than had yet been done the real nature and contents of the Chris- tian revelation, as given in Scripture, — for that was what mediseval theology had never done or dared to do ; or, on the other, it might investigate dispas- sionately, unhindered by prejudices or restraints of any kind, the nature and powers of the human reason, with reference to its capacity to originate or receive, to appreciate or criticise, a revelation. From the time of Wycliffe we can see in which direction Christian thought was moving. There was a deep conviction spreading like a contagion in all spiritual minds, that God had given to mankind a revelation in the Scrip- tures. To study and to know that revelation became the primary aim, the most pressing necessity ; and so A REPRESENTATIVE CRITICISM. 255 late as the seventeenth century the mind of the church was still centred on the study of the Bible as an au- thoritative external revelation, before there came a change which demanded a rehearing of the claims of the human reason. Wy cliff e was impelled to the translation of the Scriptures into the vernacular by the profoundest tendeucies of his age. Like the Jews at the restora- tion of their ancient city, as he fought with one hand the enemies of the truth, he was building with the other, when he set forth the Bible as the constitution and the charter of the true church against error and oppression, and called attention to the necessity of in- quiring anew into the divine revelation by going to its source in the word of God. Plow his efforts to this end were regarded may be easily inferred from a rep- resentative criticism upon his work, made by a genuine pupil of the old school : " This Master Wycliffe," says Knighton, " translated into English, not an angelic tongue, the gospel that Christ committed to the clergy and doctors of the church, that they might administer it gently to laymen and infirm persons according to the requirements of the time and their individual wants and mental hunger. So by him it has become common and more open to laymen and women who know how to read than it usually is to clerks of good understand- ing with a fair amount of learning. And thus the gospel pearl is cast forth and trodden by swine ! What used to be held dear by clerks and laymen is become as it were a common amusement to both ; the gem of clerks is turned into the sport of laymen ; and what was once a talent given from above to the clergy and doctors of the church is forever common to the laity." 1 1 Quoted in Gairdiier, Studies in English History. 256 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. There were not wanting other critics who saw in the use made of Scripture by the evangelical reformers a perversion of its true purpose, and who, ecclesiastics though they were, uttered a protest in behalf of the reason, and of customs and usages, whose justification was to be found in reason, even if no authority could be found for them in the Bible. But the new day now dawning for humanity was one in which men were seeking to walk by what they believed to be the light of God alone. They were timid of any substitutes for Him, whether in papal vicars of Christ, or hierarchies, or in the reason which seemed to them identified with all the abuses of the past. They believed that God Himself had once actually spoken to the world, that His message of lisrht and life to mankind had been recorded in a book, and that only one duty remained, — to regulate life and manners, worship and disci- pline, government in church or state, according to the revealed infallible letter of Scripture. Mysticism, whether in its historical development or in its abstract character as a religious movement, is best understood by placing it in comparison with the ruling: aim of the Latin church. That the church not only tolerated it in some of its forms, but even sanc- tioned it, does not indicate that mysticism was in har- mony with the predominant purpose of Latin Chris- tianity. Just as there was a rationalism, whether that of Anselm or Aquinas, or even a skepticism, like that of Duns Seotus or Occam, which could adjust itself to* the principle of church authority, so there were phases of mysticism which have not only existed undisturbed in the Latin church, but have been regarded with com- placency, and even with approval. The historical source from which mysticism in the HISTORICAL SOURCE OF MYSTICISM. 257 Middle Ages drew its inspiration was the writings of the pseudo-Dionysius, popularly regarded as Dionysius the Areopagite, who had been converted under St. Paul's preaching at Athens. It was one of the nu- merous offenses of Abelard against the judgment of the church, that he had questioned the identity of the author of the tw Celestial Hierarchy " with the Diony- sius who was the patron saint of Paris. What the effect would have been upon Latin theology had it been known that Dionysius wrote in the latter part of the fifth century, and was not entitled to apostolic au- thority, would be a curious subject of inquiry. For from the time when his books were first translated into Latin in the ninth century, they were regarded as having the highest sanction ; even a theologian like Aquinas was indebted to them for elements in his thought which accorded imperfectly with the general tenor of his theology. It is even possible that the tendency to pantheism, against which the School-men were always struggling, might have been eliminated earlier and more easily if it had not been believed that Dionysius spoke to the church with the authority of an associate of the apostles. 1 1 The writings of Dionysius are given in vols. iii. and iv. of Migne's Patrologia, as if belonging to the age of the Apostolic Fathers ; and the late Archbishop of Paris demonstrated anew that the author was Dionysius the Areopagite, — evidence that the Roman Catholic church, as represented in France, still clings to the old tradition. These writings have been translated into German and French, but there is no complete English transla- tion. Colet, the famous Dean of St. Paul's in the time of Eras- mus, translated parts of the Celestial Hierarchy, of which a new edition has recently been published. For a fuller account of Dionysius, see Ritter, Die Christliche Philosnphie, pp. 386-390 ; Vacherot, Histoire de Vecole d' Alexandrie, iii. pp. 37, ff ; Hcrzog- Plitt, Real-Encyldopadie, Art. Dionysius ; Maurice, Hist, of Phi- losophy ; Vaughan, Hours ivith the Mystics. 258 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION, Viewed in its largest relations the system of Dio- nysius was a combination of Neo-Platonic philosophy with the leading characteristics of Latin Christianity. As that philosophy had already been used as an agent for reviving the various forms of heathenism, it is not strange that when Christianity had triumphed and become the religion of the Roman state, Neo- Platonism should seek an alliance with the church through those lower characteristics which, though they had received their original development in the West, had become the common property of Christendom. The hierarchy and the sacraments were the two fea- tures of the church which presented themselves to the mind of the pseudo-Dionysius as most easily harmo- nizing with the Neo-Platonic method of uniting the divine and the human. To this end he increased the number of the sacraments to six, attaching to them a supernatural potency, and emphasized the orders of bishops, priests, and deacons as corresponding to the lower orders of demons in the Neo-Platonic scale of emanations, and as means through which the soul took its first steps toward union with Deity. Above the earthly hierarchy rose the heavenly, where angels and seraphim, each in its threefold order, carried on the process of mediating between humanity and the dis- tant Deity. A system like this, which glorified the human institution by incorporating it as an integral part of a divine unearthly order, throwing around the church's rites a resplendent lustre of supernatural color, could not but win for itself an almost univer- sal acceptance. 1 But despite its easy and apparently 1 Maximus, the Confessor, in his exposition of the system of Dionysius, modified it in one important respect. Dionysius had made the vision of God attainable in this life ; Maximus post- THE SPIRIT OF THE PSEUD0-DI0NYS1US. 259 natural affiliation with Latin Christianity, the system of Dionysius was only Neo-Platonic heathenism in a debased form, and its author had done little more than baptize with a Christian nomenclature the vari- ous grades of personal agency which in the heathen view stretched themselves across the vast abyss that separated humanity from God. 1 It is not, however, in the form of Dionysius' thought, but in its spirit, that we must seek for the cause which made him in the Middle Ages the source of mysti- cism. While the aim of the Latin church was to hold God and humanity apart, — to maintain their separa- tion as the foundation of the only true cultus for the human spirit, — the object of Dionysius was to bring them together in the closest relationship. In this re- spect he was still perpetuating, although in a degraded form, the purpose of the earlier Neo-Platonism, and not only so, but there was speaking through him the spirit of the early Greek theology. If he seemed to make unduly prominent the hierarchy and ritual orcli- poned the vision to another world and the distant future. A change like this put Dionysius in closer accord with the spirit of Latin Christianity. See Ritter, p. 392, and Vacherot, iii. p. 38. 1 Le faux Denys semble un neoplatonicien des derniers temps, qui, en passant au Christianisme, a garde, conime avait deja fait Synesius, ses doctrines philosophiques, en les fondant hauilement avec les principes de sa nouvelle croyance. La distinction des trois methodes, rationelle, symbolique, et mystique, pour parvenir a Dieu, est empruntee a Proclus, ainsi que la theorie de l'extase ; la doctrine de la Hierarcliie Celeste n'est que la theorie des Ordres divins assez heureusement adaptee a la theologie chretienne ; le traite de la Hierarchee ecclesiastique rappelle la description du culte pai'en restaure par le neoplatonisme. La theologie du faux Denys n'est pas meine un melange des idees alexandrines et chretiennes ; sous des formules et des noms empruntes au Chris- tianisme, le fond en est tout neoplatonicien. Vacherot, iii. p. 37. 260 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. nances of the church, it was always as a means to a higher end. That end was never allowed to fade from the view, or the means to the end usurp its place as a home in which the soul might rest. Hence the study of Dionysius' writings by vigorous and inde- pendent minds must put them on a track which di- verged from the road which the church was traveling, leading them back again to higher conceptions of God and of man, and of their mutual relations, than those which the Latin church had inherited from Augustine. The hierarchy and the ritual were relegated to a sub- ordinate sphere, as the lower rounds of the ladder are left behind in mounting the higher. It is unnecessary to do more than refer to the mys- ticism of the twelfth century, which is known as the French or Romanic, to distinguish it from the later German school. It was connected chiefly with the monastery of St. Victor near Paris, although its mood was shared by Bernard of Clairvaux, and in the fol- lowing century it found a distinguished representative in Bonaventura, the Seraphic Doctor of the schools. While it drew its inspiration from Dionysius, it dif- fered from the later German mysticism in the absence of an intellectual or speculative temper, owing partly to the disfavor into which the exercise of the intellect had fallen through the condemnation of Abelard. In the place of the reason as the faculty which appre- hends the divine, the French mystics were inclined to believe in some special faculty of the soul to which was vouchsafed, under certain conditions, the imme- diate intuition of God. This school of mysticism was also wanting in the ethical tone which pervades the thought of Eckart and Tauler ; its tendency was to conceive of God as if a physical essence ; it sought in CHARACTER OF GERMAN MYSTICISM. 261 the emotions for the evidence of the union of the soul with God ; its language in describing the ecstatic sweetness of the divine communion assumed a pas- sionate and sensuous tone. It was left to the German mystics of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries to assert for the first time in the history of Latin theology a higher and truer con- ception of God. They did not constitute a sect in the church ; they were simply independent thinkers with a kindred aim ; there were diversities in their method, and variations in the results of their thought, but they were agreed in declaring that God dwells in the innermost recesses of the spirit, that there is in the natural constitution of man a divine element, that to find God or to grow in the knowledge of God is to be accomplished by looking within, and not to ex- traneous infusions from without. The scholastic theo- logians were always on their guard against pantheism, checking or modifying the free expression of their thought for fear of confounding God with the world. But the mystics had no such fear, for in their concep- tion of God righteousness was conjoined as essential with the divine love ; with such an idea of God it was not possible to identify Him in a pantheistic fashion with the life of nature or of humanity. Hence they asserted the divine immanence without fear or quali- fication. " God (says Eckart) is alike near in all crea- tures. I have a power in my soul which enables me to perceive God; I am as certain as that I live that nothing is so near to me as God. He is nearer to me than I am to myself. It is a part of His very essence that He should be nigh and present to me. God is in all things and places alike, and is ever ready to give Himself to us in so far as we are able to receive Him : 262 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. he knows God aright who sees Him in all things." 1 This doctrine of the divine immanence as held alike by all the German mystics, Tauler, Suso, or Ruys- broek, involved the correlate truth that human nature, in which God can dwell so intimately, must be in its inmost essence akin to the divine nature. The two natures can no longer be conceived as foreign to each other ; the one is the image of the other. The capac- ity for God is not, as Augustine and Aquinas had conceived it, a thing of which man is destitute by cre- ation in consequence of Adam's fall, and therefore a supernatural gift infused into the soul at baptism ; the divine in man is the very essence of his soul. That which, according to Aquinas, is a superadded quality not to be found in the kingdom of nature, is with Eckart the inmost principle of man's being as it ex- ists by nature ; the supernatural becomes with him that which in the highest sense is the most truly natural. The kingdom of God does not stand apart from man's constitution by nature under the rule of an external hierarchy ; it is a kingdom manifested within the soul : he who knows and perceives how nigh God's kingdom is may say, " Truly the Lord is in this place and I knew it not." The doctrine of the incarnation, which in Latin theology had been an incomprehensible, mysterious fact, before which man humiliated himself in awe, became the central point in mystic theology, as showing how closely God and 1 A sermon of Eckart which contains his most distinctive belief is given among Tanler's sermons (Second Sunday in Ad- vent), translated by Miss Winkworth. See, also, Dorner, Per- son of Christ, b. ii. pp. 1-50, for a discussion of German mysti- cism in the pre-reformation age, and Schmidt, Les Mystiques du 14 e Siecle. THEOLOGY OF ECKART. 263 man could come together, how Deity had assimilated to itself in Christ that which in its essence was congruous with the divine. The relationship was so close be- tween God and man, that in Eckart's thought human- ity was as necessary to Deity as Deity to humanity. The incarnation reveals God as love, and love as God. The essence of Deity is not physical, but moral or spir- itual, and the object of this union of God with man is that man also may develop his personality in love, ac- cording to the law of the divine existence. The German mystics did not aim to lose themselves in ecstatic emotion, or to gain merely some sensuous impression of a vision of the divine. Tauler, who was the great preacher of his age, sought to impress his hearers with the idea of righteousness as indispensa- ble to knowing God and realizing the divine nearness. The position of the mystics seemed open to the objec- tion, that if God's presence is a reality in the soul and in the world, everything may be left to the divine ac- tivity in accomplishing human salvation, while man may remain merely passive in the process. But to this Eckart's answer would be that man's blessedness does not consist in this, that God is in him and so close to him, but in his perceiving God's presence and thus knowing and loving Him. Only he who knows in this sense will feel that God's kingdom is nigh at hand. Knowledge, as Eckart uses the expression, car- ries with it the obedience of the whole nature. In this sense Plato had used the term, and the early Greek theologians, when they said that sin lay in ignorance ; or to speak after a higher authority, This is life eter- nal, to know Thee the true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent. In the language of Eckart: "God is ever ready but we are very unready; God is 264 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. nio'h to us but we are far from Him ; God is within, we are without ; God is at home, we are strangers. God leadeth the righteous by a narrow path till they come unto a wide and open place ; that is unto the true freedom of that spirit which has become one spirit with God." The German mystics when compared with the evan- gelical reformers are seen to have had a different mo- tive and aim. They had little interest in proclaiming the revelation of the book ; they were occupied with that which God revealed in the inner life of the soul. There lay the real revelation, compared with which the other was a thing without, powerless to help as are all external agencies. The ground of certitude with them lay not in the outward letter of the record, but in the attestation of the spirit within. They took little part therefore in the effort to change the form or structure of the church ; they had little of that spirit of combativeness or antagonism which would lead them to any open revolt ; they were content with the old organization so long as they were free to put their own more spiritual interpretation upon its cultus. The order to which they belonged, the " Friends of God," had no political aim ; its object was to develop true re- ligion in the soul, and to bind together for that object all men of a kindred spirit. But while they seem in- active compared with a Wycliffe, they did in some respects a greater, more positive work than the evan- gelical reformers, although with the latter lay the more immediate future. The one class was preparing the way for the overthrow of the hierarchy, and at the same time presenting a substitute that would still hold man in subjection to an external authority ; the mys- tics developed a principle, which, when its full signif- MYSTICISM NOT A VAGUE REVERIE. 265 icance should be discerned in later ages, would appear as the foundation of a more spiritual, more compre- hensive theology than the Latin church had ever known in all her history. The voice of Eckart is not merely the echo of an Athanasius pleading* for the truth of the divine immanence. It is an utterance from the fresh consciousness of a new race which hitherto, under the tutelage of Latin discipline, had not come to itself or recognized its true descent. But the day was as yet far olf when the church would be prepared to receive the message with which he was commissioned. German mysticism was not a vague reverie with no practical purpose in view. The labors of Tauler, who was a pupil of Eckart and adopted his speculative phi- losophy, are an evidence that it had a mission for men in the midst of trouble and desolation. Tauler was not only the great preacher of his time, but he put his Christianity to a practical test in Strasbourg when the pestilence known as the black death was carrying off its victims by thousands. At a moment when the city lay under the papal interdict in consequence of its po- litical affiliations, he defied the authority of the church in order to minister to the sick and dying. The fra- ternity known as the " Friends of God," — a beautiful designation, summing up in a word the whole spirit and aim of German mysticism in accordance with the saying of Christ, Henceforth I call you not servants but friends, — this order, which owned Eckart as its founder and guide, was widely spread in the south- western part of Germany ; it included a large num- ber of laity in its fold, and its object was not only the cultivation of religion among its members, but a spirit of helpfulness to others. A similar organization arose 266 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. in the Netherlands,: — the Brethren of the Common Life, — which undertook the training of the younger, clergy, and was a powerful agent for the cultivation of spiritual religion. To this order belonged Thomas a Kempis, whose " Imitation of Christ," it is said, has had a larger circulation than any other book except the Bible ; from it, also, proceeded a little treatise called " German Theology,'' which Luther republished, and to which he acknowledged his deep indebtedness. The spirit of mysticism had extended also into the Domin- ican and other orders, and was still surviving in the sixteenth century. In Staupitz, the provincial of the Augustinians, whose spiritual relations to Luther pre- pared the way for his conversion, we have the outward connecting link between it and the German reforma- tion. But although the Reformation could not have taken place without the preparatory labors of the mystics, yet there were deficiencies in the theology of Eckart, of Tauler, or of Thomas a Kempis, which made impos- sible for them the work which Luther accomplished. They had reverted to the essential principles of an earlier theology, overleaping, as it were, with one bound the intervening ages which separated them from Athanasius and other kindred spirits of the ancient church. They talked like the Stoics and the Neo- Platonists of the purification of the soul in order to spiritual contemplation or to the union of the soul with God. But they were oblivious to the principle of his- torical continuity; they did not take into account the influence of the training of the Latin church through long ages, and how the basis of that training had been laid in the doctrine of original sin with the guilt which it assumed for every man at birth, or the fearful con- DEFICIENCIES OF GERMAN MYSTICISM. 267 sequences which that primordial crime was thought to have entailed here and hereafter in separating human- ity from the source of its life. Whether the Augus- tinian dogma of original sin was true or false, it had entered into the fibre of mediaeval religion, and could not be eliminated by a mere negation. Any readjust- ment in theology must now take it into consideration as if it were a part of the divine order, and, even sup- posing it to be true, still find a principle by which God and humanity could be reunited in an organic relationship. It was here that Luther diverged from the track of German mysticism. Because he started from the attitude of the people as they had been edu- cated by the church, he was able to make a successful protest against the abuses of his age ; he was powerful to restore again the simple faith of Christ's religion. While the mystics had been preaching the purification of the soul as the way to the union with God, the church was selling pardons or indulgences for sin, which never would have been bought so eagerly if there had not been a demand for them on the part of the people. To overcome so gigantic a perversion of the spirit of Christianity was a task for which the mystics were unsuited by their distance from the pop- ular mind. There were other deficiencies also in German mysti- cism. In its idea of human nature there still lingered a relic of the Latin tradition, that it was an evil thing to be repressed or subdued. It talked of renunciation rather than consecration. In the " Imitation of Christ " there still breathed the close, unhealthy air of the clois- ter. The full imitation of Christ implied directions of human aspiration and endeavor which did not enter into the thought of Thomas a Kempis. There was 268 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. yet a longer preliminary work to be done before theol- o°y and the Christian life could revert to their true ground in Christ, in whom and by whom and for whom are all things. II. The evangelical reformers prepared the way for revolt from church authority. Wyeliffe, Huss, Savo- narola, and others, while differing from each other in the extent to which they carried their opposition to mediaeval doctrines, were alike in one respect, — they had emancipated themselves from the Latin idea that the church was identical with the hierarchy. That idea, the traces of which go back almost to the time when Christianity was planted in Rome, the develop- ment of which is found in Latin writers, as Clement of Rome, Tertullian, Irenaeus, Cyprian, and Augus- tine, — the idea of the solidarity of the episcopate hold- ing by tactual succession from the apostolate, to which as a body had been intrusted the graces and powers for the salvation of man, together with the " deposit " of the faith, whose purity it guaranteed by its contin- uous existence, — that idea of the church which by a natural and necessary process had developed a pope as the representative of Christian unity and power, was the first feature of Latin Christianity which yielded to the solvent influence of the growing intellect and conscience. That which had been the first to rise was the first to succumb, and its fall was equivalent to freeing the human mind from the yoke of external authority. The great reformers before the Reformation had made the issue clear to all the world. Although Wye- liffe had been allowed to die quietly in his bed, yet at THE PREPARATION COMPLETED. 269 the command of Pope Martin V. his grave had been opened, his bones had been burned, and the ashes thrown into the little river that flows by Lutterworth. In the quaint words of Thomas Fuller, that river "took them into the Severn, Severn into the narrow seas, they into the main ocean, and thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the emblems of the doctrine which is now dispersed all the world over." 1 Huss had been condemned to death in 1414, at the Council of Constance, for heresy, — a heresy which lay not so much in the denial of special doctrines as in his unwillingness to disown the conviction of conscience at the bidding of external authority. The issue was plain, and the wayfaring man could read it, that Huss stood for the sacred majesty of conscience, undaunted in the presence of the most imposing assemblage that the church could muster. His condemnation was meant as a declaration of the principle that the con- science had no rights against the hierarchy. In the answer of Savonarola from the stake, when the bishop who preached the customary sermon declared him cut off from the church militant and the church triumph- ant, was the same issue repeated, — " No, not from the church triumphant ; you cannot cut me off from that." To all outward appearance the Latin church stood strong as ever at the opening of the sixteenth century. There was no sign of the catastrophe which was to 1 It has been generally supposed that Huss, although indebted to Wycliffe, was by no means a blind disciple of the English re- former. How entirely the Bohemian movement was the after- effect of Wycliffe's labors, and how closely Huss had accepted his teaching, is shown by Lechler, Johann von Wiclif und die Vorgescliichte der Reformation, ii. pp. 233-kTO. 270 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. dismember Christendom, the popes revealed no con- sciousness that their prestige had been weakened, and walked smiling to their downfall. In reality all things were hollow with decay ; the mediaeval age was over, the preparation for a new age was already accom- plished, and the world was waiting for him who should lead out the people from the house of bondage. When Luther burned the pope's bull in 1520, he took the bold step toward a revolution which set free one half of Christendom from papal subjection. When at the Diet of Worms, in 1521, he declared that he could not retract his writings at the bidding of any exter- nal authority, unless shown that he was wrong, he af- firmed the supremacy of the human conscience as the highest earthly court of appeal ; and so firm did he stand in this conviction that he dared to invoke God to set His seal to the truth which His servant pro- claimed. As one contemplates Luther at the coun- cil hall in Worms, an insignificant monk, a man of the people standing before the highest potentates of church and state, with his life depending upon the answer he made to his judges, the mind travels back to a similar scene when Abelard also stood before his judges, a man whose intellect was clear, but whose moral nature had been hurt by the sins of his earlier life. Between the two men whose attitude was so sim- ilar, between the appeal of the one to the pope, and the other to the conscience, lay the distance of nearly four hundred years, — so long had it taken for God to educate a race to understand and to maintain its high prerogative. The events of the sixteenth century have been too often regarded as constituting a break in history. But to the eye of thought reviewing the course of history THE COMING OF LUTHER. 271 the continuity remains unbroken. Luther was but the child of the ages preceding ; the Protestant revolution was the natural and orderly sequence of a long course of preparation. It was indispensable indeed for a time that men should regard the Reformation as break- ing with the past, in order that they might estimate more deeply the meaning of the truth which had been revealed to them, and secure its firmer establishment. So, also, in the ancient church, there had appeared a violent antagonism to Judaism, and to heathen art, which served the purpose of making more clear and emphatic the vital difference between Christianity and other religions. In the turmoil of an age of transi- tion it is not always given to the leaders to discern the route by which they have been led. Luther en- tered upon the inheritance of Wycliffe and of Huss, and still further was he indebted to the spirit of Ger- man mysticism. But his greatness was also peculiarly his own. He was not so much a theologian as a man who afforded in his own rich nature, unveiled so com- pletely before his age, the materials for theology. His life was a type of humanity for his own and succeed- ing ages. He lived through the religious experience of the mediaeval dispensation before he came to his knowledge of a higher birthright. Viewed from the standing point of a formal theology, he is full of in- consistencies and contradictions, and even dangerous errors. Bat regarded simply as a man with his rich endowment of human instincts and yearnings, to which he gave the freest, most unguarded expression, he was in himself a revelation of the human consciousness in its freshness and simplicity, with which a complete theology must come to terms. It is because the ex- plosive utterances of his vigorous, tumultuous nature 272 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. have been weighed as if they were carefully formed dogmatic statements, that Luther has been so often misunderstood by Protestant as well as by Koman Catholic writers. It is a popular mistake to regard the Reformation as having for its main object the correction of abuses which had grown up in the church. While some jus- tify the work of Luther by exposing these abuses in detail, others have tried to show that the abuses were not so great as had been supposed, or that some things which the reformers regarded as such were in reality customs which are consonant with reason or with piety ; and still a third class, defending the Latin church against the assaults of Protestantism, have boldly affirmed that there were no abuses whatever in the sixteenth century which called for protest or re- form, — that the movement of Luther from beginning to end was the work of an evil will setting itself against divine authority. Luther, it is true, began his work as a reformer by opposition to the principle and the practice of indul- gences, in which he saw not only a perversion of the gospel of Christ, but the source of a vicious influence injurious to ordinary morality. The doctrine of in- dulgences as taught by Lombard or Aquinas may dif- fer from the belief regarding their operation which was preached by a Tetzel, and received by the people in the sixteenth century. But the fact cannot be ob- scured that indulgences were then regarded at Rome by those high in authority as the best available means of replenishing the papal treasury, whose resources, as it was alleged, were heavily taxed in building St. Peter's cathedral, or in carrying on the war with the Turks. The Latin church, as a matter of fact, saw no ADDRESS TO THE GERMAN NOBILITY. 273 objection then, and indeed has never yet been able to see any, why people should not be made to pay for spiritual privileges, or, if they value God's pardon, why they should not be called upon to express their sense of its value in some such tangible form as money. The practice of selling indulgences by which were re- mitted the penalties of sin, whether enacted by God or the church, — for the two were practically identified, — grew out of the disposition to guard zealously the " deposit " intrusted to the hierarchy. From such a point of view, there was reason to fear that if people were not called upon to pay for God's pardon, they would not attach to it any exalted importance. Luther saw from a very early stage in his career as a reformer, that it was not against abuses in them- selves alone that he was waging his warfare, but against the principle from which they flowed, — the Latin idea of the church, by which was maintained and justified what the enlightened conscience of Chris- tendom was beginning to regard with abhorrence and contempt. In his " Address to the German Nobility," written in the year 1520, only three years after the posting of the theses, he had come to see that the root of all that was obnoxious in the traditional Chris- tianity was the assumption that the church consisted primarily in the hierarchy or episcopate, and as such was commissioned to teach and rule the world. In the " Address to the German Nobility " we have at last the direct and final answer to Tertullian and Irenaeus, Cyprian and Augustine. 1 The church does not con- sist in the episcopate. No privileges, no "deposit," no trusts are assigned by God to the bishops which do 1 An kaiserliche Majestat und den christl. Add deutscher Nation, in Luther's Sammtliche Schriften ed. Walch, x. 18 274 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. not also belong by right to every Christian man. Or- dination is but a human arrangement, by which the divine prerogatives lodged in the church as the con- gregation of faithful men are delegated to a few to exercise in the name and by the authority of all. If a small number of Christians were to find themselves in a desert without a regularly ordained priest, and with no means of obtaining one, it would be only the exercise of their divine and natural right if they were to set apart one of their number for the office. Such an one would just as truly preach and absolve and admin- ister the sacraments as if he had been consecrated by all the bishops in Christendom. Between laymen and clergy there is no other difference than that of func- tion or office ; the highest dignity which can be con- ferred on man is common to both, — that of belonging to the body of Christ, and being every one members one of another. But Luther could not so successfully have attacked and overthrown the mediaeval conception of the church had he not grasped with singular strength and clear- ness another principle, namely, that there is no inher- ent and essential difference between religious and what are called secular tilings. 1 The dualism which the mediaeval church had inherited from ancient Latin fathers, which had even found expression in the de- cisions of general councils, sharply distinguishing be- tween the divine and the human as incompatible with each other, was also at last met by a principle which, in proportion as its significance was apprehended, would reverse the thought of ages. The belief that the divine and the human were foreign to each other had led to distinctions between clergy and people, be- 1 Werke, ed. Walch, x. pp. 302, 303. PRINCIPLES OF THE REFORMATION. 275 tween church and state, between nature and grace, and had been the underlying sentiment which supported the aspiration of the popes to set themselves above kings and princes. Luther taught that the secular power was divine, and directly ordained by God with- out papal mediation ; that civil or secular functions do not differ in kind from those called religious ; that even a shoemaker, a blacksmith, or a peasant, were alike set apart with bishops and priests to a calling that was sacred, inasmuch as all kinds of service minister to the well-being of the community and knit together the members of the one bodv in a closer communion %j and fellowship. And still another principle, closely connected with the preceding, was set forth by Luther before he pro- ceeded to enumerate to the German nobility the abuses which stood in need of correction. 1 He calls it one of the walls by which the church had intrenched itself apart from the Christian community that the Bible had been regarded as a " deposit " in the hands of the episcopate or hierarchy, and that to it alone, or speak- ing through its mouth-piece, the papacy, belonged the right of determining what was the meaning of the divine revelation. If, as Luther argued, the laity were on an equality with the clergy, then it must be also admitted that they have the faith, the spirit, and the mind of Christ, and are entitled to interpret the Scriptures for themselves. It was of them that it had been said, they should be all taught of God ; to them Christ had referred when He said, Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word. Such was the original idea in Luther's mind of what was afterwards designated i Werke, ed. Walch, x. p. 309. 276 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. as private judgment — the affirmation of the Christian consciousness as the basis of certitude for Christian belief. From a historical point of view it may be re- garded as the first emphatic protest coming from the heart of the church against the argument of Tertullian in his " Prescription of Heretics," or of Irenasus ap- pealing to a tradition of whose purity the episcopate was the guarantee, or of Augustine asserting against human reason the divine prerogatives of the episcopal office to teach infallible truth. 1 But the assertion of great principles like these, far reaching as they are in the full extent of their appli- cation, does not constitute Luther's most distinctive work as a religious reformer. His title to greatness as a spiritual hero rests upon his proclamation of the doctrine of justification by faith, or, in other words, his readjustment, first for himself, and then for others, of 1 The most characteristic of the thoughts and beliefs in which, according to Bunsen, all the reformers of the sixteenth century agreed, are summed up by him in the five following propo- sitions : — 1. " The congregation in the full sense of the word, the whole company of faithful people, and not the clergy alone, constitute the church. 2. " The whole church as thus defined is the deposit of man's consciousness of God in the public worship of Him. 3. " The collective community in its national capacity ought to represent a people of God. 4. " There is no difference between spiritual or religious acts and secular acts. 5. "A personal faith is the condition of inward peace with God. But this personal faith necessarily involves free convictions, and therefore free inquiry and free speculation on the results thereof, though carried on under a sense of responsibility to God ; and this again presupposes freedom of conscience and thought." — God in History, vol. iii. pp. 199-201. MEANING OF JUSTIF1CA TION BY FAITH. 277 the conception of man's relation to God. In the con- flicts of his inner life, — the bitter strujjffles through which he passed before he attained that for which his soul was hungering, — he stands for humanity itself as it had been left by the tutelage of the Latin church ; made to feel his need of Christ, but not having yet known Him after the spirit ; stricken with a sense of sin and guilt, laboring under the consciousness of sep- aration from God, and yet demanding an absolute as^ su ranee of His pardon and reconciliation with Him in the inmost depth of his being beyond the possibility of uncertainty or doubt. His experience in the monas- tery at Erfurt, where he put to the test the mediaeval method of asceticism, confession, and penance, failed to bring him the conviction of forgiveness. Indeed, this was not its intention or aim. The Latin church did not profess to impart certitude of salvation to her children. It preferred to retain them in a condition of hope which would stimulate to activity, but the certainty of their acceptance with God could not be known till life was over. When the church was gird- ing itself to its distinctive task in the beginning of the Middle Ages, Pope Gregory the Great had re- plied to a correspondent who demanded the assurance that her sms were forgiven, that such assurance was difficult and unprofitable. 1 In uncertainty and self- distrust the soul should remain as its normal atti- tude till the end of life revealed the final result. The idea of probation, as thus defined, became the ruling principle of the church, and had been known in Latin theology as the conjectura moralis. As a principle it was not out of harmony with the mediaeval practice of asceticism, by which the soul might increase the 1 Neander, Church History, v. p. 200. 278 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. probability, but not secure the certainty, of its sal- vation. 1 After this confidence, however, Luther was strug- gling in his earlier years, and the attainment of the principle by which it was gained constituted his con- version. In his later life, when he saw more clearly the nature of the struggle through which he had passed, he described the process in unmistakable terms. He then recognized that his thought about God had undergone a change. When he first read the words of St. Paul, so he tells us, as given in the Latin Vulgate, the justice of God is revealed in Him, — justitia Dei in eo revelatur, — he hated the expres- sion because he misunderstood its meaning. " I said to myself : 4 Is it not then enough that wretched sin- ners, already eternally damned for original sin, should 1 How firmly the mediaeval church was wedded to this view of the Christian life was shown anew at the Council of Trent, where, in opposition to the Lutheran doctrine of justification by faith, a decree was put forth condemning the " vain confidence of her- etics." Sess. vi. c. 9. " No one can know with a certainty of faith which cannot be subject to mistake, that he has obtained the grace of God." Neither Augustine, Luther, nor Calvin, held the doctrine of probation. Indeed, it may be said that the doc- trine of justification, as Luther propounded it, involving as it did the Jiducia or certainty of acceptance with God,^vas a protest against probation. The idea of probation is clearly incompatible with the Calvinistic doctrine of election. The retrogression from Calvinism, as its founder proclaimed it, to the mediaeval idea of life as a probation, was recorded at the famous Westminster As- sembly in the seventeenth century. Cf. Sir William Hamilton, Discussions on Philosophy and Literature, pp. 505 ff. In his essay on Luther, Canon Mozley has selected this point for his strongest animadversion. Luther, in his view, made his great mistake in not being willing to walk in the subdued and uncertain twilight in which the mediaeval church retained humanity ; he attempted a flight beyond the reach of man in this world. WHY THE DOCTRINE SEEMS OBSCURE. 279 be overwhelmed with so many calamities by the de- crees of the Decalogue, but God must further add misery to misery by His gospel, menacing us even there with His justice and His anger?' It was thus the trouble of my conscience carried me away, and I al\va} r s came back to the same passage. At last I per- ceived that the justice of God is that whereby with the blessing of God the just man lives, that is to say, faith. . . . Thereupon I felt as if born again, and it seemed to me as though heaven's gates stood full open, and that I was joyfully entering therein." * In other words, the " justice " of the Latin Vulgate when un- derstood as righteousness became the most attractive thins: that the soul could know ; it constituted the bond between man and God, that man by the insight of faith was able to read the inmost nature of God re- vealed in Christ, and to find in the divine nature that which the human nature was struggling with all its powers to attain. But the gospel, according to Luther's new reading of it, contained a still more marvelous truth. Al- though man was a sinner, and fell infinitely below the divine ideal of his destiny, yet such was the good- ness of God, that those who through faith in Christ as manifesting God's righteousness had come to love and to follow Him, were in God's sight already sharers in Christ's deified humanity, they stood before God not merely clothed in the feeble and meagre righteousness which they could call their own, but in the glory of Christ's righteousness imputed to them. So long as a man looked away from himself to Christ and His righteousness, he was not only in the way to making that righteousness his own, but he already shone with 1 Michelet, Memoires de Luther. Merits par lui-meme, i. p. 26. 280 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMA TION. the reflected righteousness of Christ, in virtue of the mysterious oneness which unites Christ to all believers. And this was only an endeavor to regain the truth which Clement of Alexandria and Athanasius had as- serted when they spoke of humanity as having been deified in Christ, and of an actual redemption already accomplished in which all men shared by their consti- tutional relation to the hea-d of the race. Such was Luther's doctrine of justification by faith. He arrived at his conviction by processes which have now become unfamiliar, and the language which he used often serves to conceal his thought from the modern inquirer. It was his misfortune that he stud- ied St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans too much under the guidance of Augustine's commentary, instead of reading the gospel as it is condensed in one brief il- lustration given by Christ Himself in the story of the Prodigal Son. What Luther was trying to express, what flashes out in his occasional remarks interspersed amid his technical language, was nothing else than the principle contained in that most complete, most beau- tiful of all the parables of Christ. The story of the prodigal reveals how man in all his sinfulness and deg- radation and guilt is yet received into the divine favor, and treated as though he were a son that had never wandered from the father's house. But when Luther used the phrase "justification by faith," he was bor- rowing a figure of speech from St. Paul, by which the great apostle sought to convey to the legal mind of the Roman people how it w r as possible that a guilty person might be acquitted at the bar of infinite jus- tice. The Latin mind naturally fastened upon an il- lustration so apt, and the word " justification " became, like " grace," one of the current phrases of Latin the- JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ONLY. 281 ology. Instead of a figure of speech, an adaptation of language for a special end, it was made the corner- stone of a system of theology by the successors of Luther, and its very significance perverted and lost in the effort to follow out the figure to its logical re- sults. But with Luther the reality was greater than the now almost obsolete language in which it was clothed would seem to convey. The doctrine of justification by faith implied that man stood to infinite Deity in the closest and most endearing relationship. It car- ried with it the positive assurance, the certainty (fidu- cial) of ultimate salvation from sin to holiness. Every man by the power of a true faith could henceforth know himself as a son of God, and the intimacy of true sonship gave rise in the soul to an experience of blessedness and peace which the storms of doubt could not weaken or destroy. The Romanists wished to add works to faith as the instrument of justification, but that would have changed the whole complexion of the truth, and brought back again the error which Luther was resisting. It was justification by faith only, just as the prodigal was received into divine favor by the faith which led him to arise and go to his father. In the strength of this mighty conviction Luther stood with a majesty unsurpassed, confronting the world that had been, and that which was to be. It made no difference to him that he stood alone, opposed by all the sacred traditions of Latin Christendom running so far back in the past that they seemed co- eval with Christianity itself. He stood before his age with the uplifted open Bible, and the truth which he there read so corresponded with the life within him, that it made no difference if, as he said, a thou- 282 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION, sand Augustines, or a thousand Cyprians, or a thou- sand councils were against him. In such a spectacle as this we read a testimony to the divinely endowed consciousness of human nature which has no equal in history. Compared with this testimony to the real- ity of the life of God in the soul, the contradictions, the inconsistencies, the mistakes of Luther weigh as a feather in the balance. The sixteenth century was a period of intellectual confusion. When a great revolution is in process of accomplishment there is little room for calm, dispas- sionate examination of intellectual formulas. No phi- losophers arose after the decline of scholasticism in the fifteenth century, until the reformation period was over. The turmoil was unfavorable to the interest of scholarship, of which Erasmus stood as the represen- tative. To look for an intelligent criticism of the doc- trines of the Latin church at the hands of Luther or any of the reformers, is to seek for the impossible. In retaining some or rejecting others they were governed by impulses and instincts which were often healthy and true, while at the same time they were still to a large extent unconsciously under the influence of that tradition which they professed to discard as having no authority in the light of Scripture. With this qualification, it becomes an interesting task to review the opinions of Luther. He rejected the Latin idea of the church, and fell back upon the earlier and higher view, that it was composed of the body of Christian believers. The form of ecclesias- tical organization which ministered to the spiritual wel- fare was a matter of indifference, so Ions: as it met the need of holding men together in Christian communion and fellowship. The sanction of the clergy lay in no OTHER OPINIONS OF LUTHER. 283 gift communicated by an external authority, but was derived from the body to which it ministered as its representative. The episcopate had been so involved in the Latin theory of the hierarchy, that it seems to have been spontaneously dropped without discussion as an unnecessary excrescence out of harmony with the new order. At a later time, when the signs of a reac- tion against the Reformation were evident, and when the reformers themselves were growing timid in the presence of the increasing disorder, there were ex- pressed some regrets that so much concession had been made to the democratic principle in the church, and that the episcopate had not been retained as an efficient means of centralizing authority. But even the temporizing Melancthon was careful to specify that it should be regarded, if restored, as a thing of human origin, or, according to the mediaeval distinc- tion, jure huma?w, not jure divino. 1 With regard to priestly powers in what had been called the sacrament of penance, Luther attached importance to the decla- ration of absolution, but thought the confession or enumeration of special sins unnecessary and even in- jurious. But the power to make the declaration of God's absolution belonged as a right to every Chris- 1 For a list, of passages bearing upon this point see Gieseler, Eccles. Hist., iv. p. 529. The words of Melancthon are, — Utinam, utinam possim non quidem dominationem confmnare, sed admbuttra- tionem restituere Episcnporum. " It is evident," says the Memo- rial of the Wittenberg and other divines to the Diet at Smalcald, 1540, " that the churches need to be visited by those high in office, else the churches will not be long honored, and pastors will be evil treated in villages." There would have been no difficulty in securing bishops, or what is called the "succession," had the sen- timent of the church or the policy of the princes been in favor of their restoration. 284 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. tian man, in virtue of the universal priesthood of be- lievers, and its exercise by the ministry was a matter of human administration. 1 A peculiar interest attaches to Luther's treatment of Scripture, because underlying it may be discerned a grasp of a larger view of the nature and method of divine revelation than was afterwards held by the common consent of the reformed churches. He seem? indeed to have united in a living combination the apparently contradictory positions of the evangelical reformers and the mystics : with the one he upholds Scripture as an external and absolute authority, the very Word of God, the charter and constitution 'of the church ; and with the other he exalts the divine con- sciousness in man as that by which Scripture is known and judged to be from God. The Bible is divine be- cause it is the mirror in which is reflected the experi- ence of humanity in its highest exaltation, under the influence of a divine Spirit. No amount of hostile criticism could shake a man's faith in Scripture whose reverence for it was based on such a foundation. In this way may be explained Luther's extraordinary freedom in criticising the contents of the Bible, a free- dom and boldness which was a source of mortification to his successors, which they endeavored to cover over and forget. The following specimens of Luther's biblical criti- cism, were their source unknown, would appear to some like the destructive attacks of modern rational- ists. In regard to the Pentateuch, Luther thought it a matter of indifference whether or not it was written %/ by Moses. The Book of Kings he spoke of as excel- lent, — a hundred times better than the Chronicles. 1 Gieseler, ibid. p. 540. LUTHER'S BIBLICAL CRITICISMS. 285 Jeremiah, as a prophet, was much inferior to Isaiah. None of the discourses of the prophets were regularly committed to writing at the time, but were collected subsequently by their disciples and hearers, and thus the complete collection was formed. In the Gospel of St. Luke the Saviour's passion is best described ; but the Gospel of St. John is the true, pure gospel, the chief of the gospels, because it contains the greatest portion of Christ's sayings ; it is far preferable to the other gospels, " the unique, tender, true, main gospel." Even the Epistles of St. Paul are higher in authority than the Gospels of St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke, for they deal with faith in Christ and how it justifies, while the latter are mainly occupied with His works and miracles. In a word, St. John's Gos- pel with St. Paul's Epistles, especially those to the Romans, Galatians, and Ephesians, and also the first Epistles of St. John and St. Peter, these contain and teach all that it is necessary to know, even if one were never to see any other books. Luther did not regard the Epistle to the Hebrews, nor that of St. James, to be of apostolic origin, and the latter he characterized as an epistle of straw, with no trace of the gospel in it. He estimated very lightly the Epistle of St. Jude, and thought it was a copy of the Second Epistle of St. Peter. He could detect no trace in the Book of Revelation of its having been inspired by the Holy Ghost. The causes which led him to reject it from the canon were its visions, whose obscurity was in contrast with the clearness of a genuine revelation ; many of the church fathers had long ago rejected it ; Christ is not presented there as it was the duty of an apostle to recognize and teach Him. 1 In harmony 1 Luther's biblical criticisms are found in the various prefaces 286 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. also with Luther's attitude towards Scripture was his estimate of miracles. They had, to his mind, a very subordinate value as evidence of the truth of Christ's teaching. " External miracles," he said, " are the apples and nuts which God gave to the childish world as playthings ; we no longer have need of them." Luther is not to be regarded as a constructive, sys- tematic theologian ; no ruling idea gives symmetry and completeness to his thought ; in many of his posi- tions he retained the old scholastic phraseology. He did not combat the doctrine of original sin, which, as interpreted by Augustine, had colored the entire teaching; and cultus of the Latin church. In the prominence which he gives to the agency of the devil may be seen the expression of his desire to relieve Deity of all responsibility for human evil ; but he makes no effort to define the relationship of Satan to God in any formal way. It must be ad- mitted, also, that Luther denied, in extreme and even violent language, the freedom of the human will, in order to assert the activity of God and man's absolute dependence upon Him. Erasmus, who was carried away by no overpowering impulse, selected this point as the weak spot for an attack upon Luther's position. But there was an element in this denial of human liberty, made alike by all the reformers, which Eras- mus did not appreciate, — an element which grew out of the very situation of reform. In order to snatch men from the servitude of the church it was necessary to his commentaries on the books of Scripture, Werke, ed. Walch ; also in his Table-Talk, translated by Hazlitt, and in the fuller edition of the Tischreden, by Bindseil. Compare, also, Michelet and Hagenbach's History of the Reformation. REFORMATION IN SWITZERLAND. 287 to bring them into bondage to God ; the denial of human liberty meant the profound conviction that God Himself was acting and speaking in His human agents, that they were under the spell of an Almighty Spirit which they were powerless to resist. The con- cession of human liberty, as in the Latin church, had carried with it subjection to the power of an earthly priesthood ; to assert the absolute subjection of the will to God was to bring men into that servitude which is perfect freedom. III. The Reformation in Switzerland was independent of the movement led by Luther ; it began earlier, it fol- lowed a leader widely different in character from the hero of Germany, it originated from another impetus than that which impelled Germany to revolt, it was based on a different principle and reached in theology a different result. While Luther and Zwingle were both indebted to the influence of mysticism, yet that which can be traced only as latent in Luther's mind, or may be implied but is not clearly stated in the doctrine of justification by faith, — the idea of the divine immanence, — was the fundamental principle with Zwingle, giving unity and consistency to his life as well as to his theology. Luther was roused to in- dignation by the practice of indulgences, in which he saw exposed for sale the free forgiveness of God ; Zwingle was moved to action by the crowd who came to worship the miracle-working Madonna at Einsier deln. The one was seeking to find a true basis for the distinctively religious life, the other for a principle that would harmonize man on all sides of his nature 288 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. and in all departments of his activity with a divine purpose in the creation. The idea of Deity in Zwingie's thought is that of a beino- whose indwelling life constitutes the essence and the reality of all things, who is not only infinite wis- dom but infinite love. The creation had its origin in the divine love ; humanity was called into existence that it might rejoice in God ; all the grades and ranges cf existence are so many revelations of the divine ex- istence which operates in and through them. 1 The divine action in the world is immediate, and even mir- acles, as they are called, are not abrupt and sudden interpositions, but fall within the lines of uniform and all-pervading law. To Zwingie's mind the whole as- pect of the world was in the highest sense miraculous, and ordinary phenomena were more divine than events which merely strike the imagination because of their extraordinary or rare character. 2 Man is born with the capacity to know and to possess God. His spirit, by its very nature, goes out to God. But it is not by and in himself, as a being distinct from God, that man can rise either to the knowledge of God cr the true knowledge of himself. Hence revelation becomes part of the organic process of things — a living, actual, present process, whose results are not exclusive^ re- 1 Numen enim ut a se ipso est, ita non est quicquam quod a se ipso et non ab illo sit. Esse igitur re rum universarum esse mi- nimis est. Ut non sit frivola ea Philosophorum sententia, qui dixerunt, omnia unum esse ; si recte modo illos capiamus, vide- licet ita ut omnium esse numinis sit esse, et ab illo cunctis tribu- atur es sustineatur. Quo fit ut ab illo nihil possit negligi. Quuni enim omnia ex illo et in illo sint, iam nihil aut ex illo aut in illo esse poterit, quod ab illo aut ignoretur aut contemnatur ; vetant enim sapientia et bonitas. — De prov. Dei, Op., iv. 139. 2 Op., iv. 129. ZWINGLE'S VIEW OF REVELATION. 289 corded in Scripture. In one sense the Bible is the word of God, but in a higher sense the word of God is a personal force stirring within the soul, speaking with supreme authority, and constituting the standard by which the written letter of the book is to be criticised and judged. 1 Hence Zwingle, more than others among the reformers, recognized the traces of historic growth in the different parts of Scripture. Luther's principle, that the Bible is essentially the mirror of devout expe- rience, misled him more than once into grave errors. Zwingle approaches the book with no anxiety about reconciling discrepancies. He expects to find there things which belong to a lower as well as a higher stage of spiritual development. But the word of God has spoken not only in the Bible, but always and every- where, wherever there is any knowledge of that which is good and true. Heathen writers, like Plato and Pliny and Seneca, have uttered the truth under the in- spiration of the revealing word. The law of God as revealed in Scripture or else- where is not a series of arbitrary, external statutes, but reveals the inmost divine nature, and the basis, there- fore, of human morality lies in the inward sentiments which determine action. The widest divergence in Zwingle's views from the traditional opinions still re- tained in the reformed church is seen in his view of sin. He denied the doctrine of original sin as set forth by Augustine, maintaining a position similar to that of the Greek Fathers, Chrysostom and Theodore of Mopsuestia, that misery but not guilt attaches to man in consequence of the fall. Zwingle also makes an effort to define more precisely the nature of sin, see- ing in it a principle of disharmony which a divine in- 1 De vera et falsa religione, Op., iii. 130, 288 ; also Op., iv. 85, 95. 19 290 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION, dwelling presence is working to overcome, rather than a successful revolt against the divine purpose. Sin is even necessary as part of an educating process by which man comes to know and follow the right, just as justice could not be appreciated without the expe- rience of injustice, or good be fully measured without a sense of evil. 1 Hence sin is best described as a state of death in which man is unconscious of God and lives only to himself. The law of God does not excite to sin, but it reveals sin and shows how great is the bar- rier it has raised between the soul and God. Christ comes to remove this barrier, which prevents God and the soul from flowing together like two streams in a common life. Zwingle's thought with reference to this aspect of the Saviour's work does not differ sub- stantially from that of Luther. Christ delivers man from the sense of condemnation by revealing not only the divine justice and horror of sin, but also the divine mercy and love. If Zwingle does not seem to lay stress upon justification by faith, it is not because he underrates its importance ; it is everywhere assumed as true without need of discussion ; that which Zwingle dwells upon is the divine character to be built up in those who have made the beginning in the Christian life. Faith, hope, and love are three qualities not to be separated in Christian experience — the three con- stituents of the divine life in man, which from first to last is inspired and perfected by the indwelling infi- nite Spirit. Zwingle seems to have shocked the religious senti- ments of the German reformers not only by his clear denial of the Latin view of original sin, but by his conception of the salvability of the heathen, and his 1 Op., iv. 109. THE LORD'S SUPPER A MEMORIAL. 291 doctrine of the sacraments. In regard to the former he expressed himself in a memorable passage in the confession of his faith, sent shortly before his death to the French king. " In the company of the redeemed," he said, "you will then see Hercules, Theseus, Socra- tes, Aristides, Antigonus, Numa, Camillus, the Catos, and the Scipios. In a word, not one good man, one holy spirit, one faithful soul, whom you will not then behold with God." l The Latin idea, that there was no salvation outside of the church, lingered on with the reformers long after they had rejected the view that the church was identical with any one organization. At a later time Bossuet selected this passage for severe animadversion in his " Variations of Protestantism," oblivious of the fact that Justin Martyr, an approved saint of the early church, and so recognized in the Latin calendar, had expressed himself in similar terms. The controversy with Luther about the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was one of the painful incidents in the Reformation, if for no other reason, because Lu- ther appears in the affair so far below his true self. It was a case where the disputants failed to understand each other, because neither fully understood himself. Zwingle made the sacrament a memorial of the death of Christ, and found in it as such a spiritual efficacy ; to Luther's mind this seemed to empty the sacra- ment of its significance ; he preferred to regard it as charged with a divine presence, as containing the actual body and blood of Christ. But Zwingle had no necessity for confining to the eucharist a beneficent presence with which the world was full, whose secret shrine was in every faithful heart. If Zwingle seemed to rob the sacrament of a real presence of Christ, 1 Fidei Christians Expositio, 0p.> iv. 65. 292 THEOLOGY OF THE REFORMATION. Luther seemed to rob the world itself of such a pres- ence, just as the Latin church had done when she lost the idea of the immanence of Christ in humanity, and made the sacraments channels for the conveyance of grace from His remote abode. The controversy illus- trates the inevitable confusion of thought in the age of the Reformation, bat it also shows how Zwingle had revolutionized theology from its basis, while Luther re- mained divided in his allegiance between two systems, one of which claimed the devotion of his life, while the other held him bound by the sacred associations of religious sentiment. So long as Luther did not for- mally recognize the immanence of the essential Christ as the redeeming force in human life, there was a want in his thought, which his doctrine of the eucharist was an attempt to supply. It was creditable to Zwingle that he still wished to maintain Christian fellowship with Luther, despite their difference of opinion. It was characteristic of Luther, that although the hour was full of danger, he would make no compromise of his convictions for the sake of advantage. The words of Luther to Zwingle when the discussion was over, " You have a different spirit than we," — Ihr habt einen andem Geist dennum\ — were true in a deeper sense than either of the antagonists were aware. 1 It would seem as if the great ecclesiastical reaction, 1 Wilson, Bampton Lectures, 1851, on the Communion of Saints, points out the bearings of Zwingle's theology on the deeper prob- lems of the Christian life and its relation to Christian psychology ; Sporri, Zwingli-Studien, traces his theological views to one com- mon principle, — that the material symbol is inadequate to the expression of spiritual ideas and relationships. Dorner, Hist, of Prof. Theol.f compares Zwingle with Luther and Calvin, and ex- pounds these three distinct types of theology to which the Refor- mation gave birth. ZWINGLE IN ADVANCE OF HIS AGE. 293 led by the followers of Loyola, might have been ren- dered powerless to injure the work of the Reforma- tion could the views of Zwingle have been generally received. But he was so far in advance of his a