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FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD

OPEROSAQUE

CONSTANTINE

CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.

FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM PRINT ROOM.

Frontisjii,

CONSTANTINE
THE GREAT

THE REORGANISATION OF THE EMPIRE AND
THE TRIUMPH OF THE CHURCH

JOHN B. FIRTH

(sometime scholar of queen's college, oxford)

AUTHOR OF "AUGUSTUS C^SAR," "a TRANSLATION OF PLlNV's LETTERS," ETC.

G. P. :putnam's £-.oks

NEW YORK LONDON

27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BFD-OPL' STREET, STRAND

1905

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

Published, January, 1905

':. 'J )

dcvD. »

UbeUnicftertocft^r press. Hew Bort

TO MY FATHER

368^S9

PREFACE

IN the following chapters, my object has been to
tell the story of the Life and Times of Constan-
tine the Great. Whether he deserves the epithet
my readers will judge for themselves; certainly his
place in the select list of the immortals is not among
the highest. But whether he himself was "great" or
not, under his auspices one of the most momentous
changes in the history of the world was accom-
plished, and it is the first conversion of a Roman
Emperor to Christianity, with all that such conver-
sion entailed, which makes his period so important
and so well worth studying.

I have tried to write with impartiality — a virtue
which one admires the more after a close reading of
original authorities who, practically without excep-
tion, were bitter and malevolent partisans.! The"'
truth, therefore, is not always easily recognised, nor
has recognition been made the easier by the polemi-
cal writers of succeeding centuries who have dealt
with that side of Constantine's career which belongs
more particularly to ecclesiastical history. In nar-
rating the course of the Arian Controversy and the
proceedings of the Council of Nicaea I have been
content to record facts — as I have seen them — and

vi Preface

to explain the causes of quarrel rather than act as
, judge between the disputants. And though in this
branch of my subject I have consulted all the origi-
nal authorities who describe the growth of the con-
troversy, I have not deemed it necessary to read,
still less to add to, the endless strife of words to
which the discussion of the theological and meta-
physical issues involved has given rise. On this
point I am greatly indebted to, and have made liberal
use of, the admirable chapters in the late Canon
Bright 's The Age of the Fathers.

Other authorities, which have been most useful
to me, are Boissier's La Fin dii Paganismc, Allard's
La Persecution de DiocUtien et le Triomphe de V Eglise,
'Dxxrxxy' s Histoire Romaine, and Grosvenor's Constan-
tinople.

J. B. Firth.

London, October, 1904.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I,

PAGE

THE EMPIRE UNDER DIOCLETIAN .... I

CHAPTER II.

THE PERSECUTION OF THE CHURCH ... 12

^-^''' CHAPTER III.

THE ABDICATION OF DIOCLETIAN AND THE SUC-
CESSION OF CONSTANTINE • • • • 39

CHAPTER IV.
CONSTANTINE AND HIS COLLEAGUES ... 56

CHAPTER V.
THE INVASION OF ITALY 73

CHAPTER VI.

THE VISION OF THE CROSS AND THE EDICT OF

MILAN ........ 92

CHAPTER VII.

THE DOWNFALL OF LICINIUS II5

vii

vili Contents

CHAPTER VIII.

PAGE

LAST DAYS OF PERSECUTION I34

CHAPTER IX.

CONSTANTINE AND THE DONATISTS . . . 159

CHAPTER X.

THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY 189

CHAPTER XI.

THE COUNCIL OF NIC^A 211

CHAPTER XII.
THE MURDERS OF CRISPUS AND FAUSTA , . . 237

CHAPTER XIII.
THE FOUNDATION OF CONSTANTINOPLE . . . 257

CHAPTER XIV.
ARIUS AND ATHANASIUS . . . . ' . 28$

CHAPTER XV.
CONSTANTINE'S DEATH AND CHARACTER . . 3OI

CHAPTER XVI.
THE EMPIRE AND CHRISTIANITY . . . 33O

INDEX 357

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGK

CONSTANTINE THE GREAT . . FrOHtispieCC

From the British Museum Print Room.

BUST OF DIOCLETIAN 22

CONSTANTINE THE GREAT 40

From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

THE GOLDEN GATE OF DIOCLETIAN'S PALACE AT

SALONA (SPALATO) 60

BUST OF MAXIMIAN AT ROME .... 62

Photograph by Alinari.

FRAGMENT OF 4TH CENTURY EGYPTIAN POTTERY

BOWL ........ 70

Showing an early portrait of Christ, with busts of
the Emperor Constantine and the Empress
Fausta. From the British Museum.

THE BATTLE OF THE MILVIAN BRIDGE, BY RAPHAEL 86
In the Vatican. Photograph by Alinari.

THE ARCH OF CONSTANTINE AT ROME . . . 90

Photograph by Alinari.

CONSTANTINE's VISION OF THE CROSS, BY RAPHAEL 94
In the Vatican. Photograph by Alinari.

Illustrations

THE WESTERN SIDE OF A PEDESTAL, SHOWING THE
HOMAGE OF THE VANQUISHED GOTHS
From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

THE AMPHITHEATRE AT ARLES ....
Exterior view. Present day.

THE AMPHITHEATRE AT ARLES AS IT APPEARED IN
1686

From an old print.

STATUE OF CONSTANTINE FROM THE PORCH OF
SAN GIOVANNI IN LATERAN, AT ROME .

GATE OF ST. ANDREW AT AUTUN

" CONSTANTINE THE GREAT AND HIS MOTHER, ST
HELENA, HOLY, EQUAL TO THE APOSTLES "

From a picture discovered 1845, in an old church

of Mesembria.
nople.

From Grosvenor's Constanti

THE DONATION OF CONSTANTINE . . . ,

From the painting by Raphael in the Vatican
Photograph by Alinari.

ST. Helena's vision of the cross

By Paul Veronese. National Gallery, London

126
168

172

188
212

238

248

250

CHART OF THE EASTERN SECTION OF MEDIEVAL

CONSTANTINOPLE ...... 258

From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

BAPTISTERY OF SAN GIOVANNI IN LATERAN, ROME 262
Photograph by Alinari.

ST. HELENA AND THE CROSS .... 268

By Cranach. Lichtenstein Gallery, Vienna.

Illustrations

COLUMN OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT .
From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

THE THREE EXISTING MONUMENTS OF THE HIPPO-
DROME ........

From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

PLAN OF THE HIPPODROME

From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

THE SERPENT OF DELPHI .....

From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

ST. ATHANASIUS .......

From the British Museum Print Room.

BASILICA OF CONSTANTINE AT ROME .

From Rome of To- Day and Yesterday, by John
Dennie.

THE SUPPOSED SARCOPHAGI OF CONSTANTINE THE
GREAT AND THEODOSIUS THE GREAT .
From Grosvenor's Constantinople.

PAGE

276
278
280
288
302

314

LIST OF COINS

COPPER DENARIUS OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT
SHOWING THE LABARUM

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTIUS II.,
LABARUM

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF DIOCLETIAN

SOLIDUS OF MAXIMIAN .

AUREUS OF CARAUSIUS .

AUREUS OF ALLF.CTUS .

SOLIDUS OF HELENA

WITH THE

324

324
324
324
332
332
332

Xll

Illustrations

PACK

SOLIDUS OF GALERIUS 332

SOLIDUS OF SEVERUS II 332

SOLIDUS OF MAXIMIN DAZA 340

SOLIDUS OF LICINIUS I. 340

SOLIDUS OF LICINIUS II. 340

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT . 340

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT . 348

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF FAUSTA .... 348

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CRISPUS .... 348

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTIUS II. AS C^BSAR . 348

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Constantine

CHAPTER I

THE EMPIRE UNDER DIOCLETIAN

THE catastrophe of the fall of Rome, with all
that its fall signified to the fifth century, came
very near to accomplishment in the third. There
was a long period when it seemed as though nothing
could save the Empire. Her prestige sank to the
vanishing point. Her armies had forgotten what it
was to win a victory over a foreign enemy. Her
Emperors were worthless and incapable. On every
side the frontiers were being pierced and the bar-
riers were giving way.

The Franks swept over Gaul and laid it waste.
They penetrated into Spain ; besieged Toledo ; and,
seizing the galleys which they found in the Span-
ish ports, boldly crossed into Mauretanian Africa.
Other confederations of free barbarians from south-
ern Germany had burst through the wall of Hadrian
which protected the Tithe Lands {Decumates agri),
and had followed the ancient route of invasion over

2 Constantine

the Alps. Pannonia had been ravaged by the Sar-
matae and the Quadi. In successive invasions the
Goths had overrun Dacia ; had poured round the
Black Sea or crossed it on shipboard ; had sacked
Trebizond and Chalcedon, and, after traversing Bi-
thynia, had reached the coast at Ephesus. Others
had advanced into Greece and Macedonia and chal-
lenged the Roman navies for the possession of Crete.

Not only was Armenia lost, but the Parthians had
passed the Euphrates, vanquished and taken pris-
oner the Emperor Valerian, and surprised the city of
Antioch while the inhabitants were idly gathered in
the theatre. Valerian, chained and robed in purple,
was kept alive to act as Sapor's footstool ; when he
died his skin was tanned and stuffed with straw and
set to grace a Parthian temple. Egypt was in the
hands of a rebel who had cut off the grain supply.
And as if such misfortunes were not enough, there
was a succession of terrifying and destructive earth-
quakes, which wrought their worst havoc in Asia,
though they were felt in Rome and Egypt. These
too were followed by a pestilence which raged for
fifteen years and, according to Eutropius, claimed,
when at its height, as many as five thousand victims
in a single day.

It looked, indeed, as though the Roman Empire
were past praying for and its destruction certain.*
The armies were in wide-spread revolt. Rebel usurp-
ers succeeded one another so fast that the period
came to be known as that of the Thirty Tyrants,

* Jam cicsperatis rebus et deleto pcejie i?nperio Romatio (Eutropius,
iv., c. q).

The Empire under Diocletian 3

many of whom were elected, worshipped, and mur-
dered by their soldiers within the space of a few weeks
or months. "You little know, my friends," said Sa-
turninus, one of the more candid of these phantom
monarchs, when his troops a few years later insisted
that he should pit himself against Aurelian, "you
little know what a poor thing it is to be an Emperor.
Swords hang over our necks ; on every side is the
menace of spear and dart. We go in fear of our
guards, in terror of our household troops. We can-
not eat what we like, fight when we would, or take
up arms for our pleasure. Moreover, whatever an
Emperor's age, it is never what it should be. Is he
a grey beard ? Then he is past his prime. Is he
young ? He has the mad recklessness of youth.
You insist on making me Emperor ; you are drag-
ging me to inevitable death. But I have at least
this consolation in dying, that I shall not be able
to die alone."* In that celebrated speech, vibrat-
ing with bitter irony, we have the middle of the
third century in epitome.

But then the usual miracle of good fortune inter-
vened to save Rome from herself. The Empire
fell into the strong hands of Claudius, who in two
years smote the Goths by land and sea, and of
Aurelian, who recovered Britain and Gaul, restored
the northern frontiers, and threw to the ground the
kingdom over which Zenobia ruled from Palmyra.
The Empire was thus restored once more by the
genius of two Pannonian peasants, who had found

* Nesciiis, amici, quid niali sit imferare (Vopiscus, Saturninus,
c. 10),

4 Constantine

in the army a career open to talent. The murder
of Aurelian, in 275, was followed by an interreg-
num of seven months, during which the army
seemed to repent of having slain its general and
paid to the Senate a deference which effectually
turned the head — never strong — of that assembly.
Vopiscus quotes a letter written by one senator to
another at this period, begging him to return to
Rome and tear himself away from the amusements
of Baiae and Puteoli. " The Senate," he says,* " has
returned to its ancient status. It is we who make
Emperors ; it is our order which has the distribu-
tion of offices. Come back to the city and the
Senate House. Rome is flourishing ; the whole
State is flourishing. We give Emperors ; we make
Princes ; and we who have begun to create, can
also restrain." The pleasant delusion was soon dis-
pelled. The legions speedily re-assumed the role of
king-makers. Tacitus, the senatorial nominee, ruled
only for a year, and another series of soldier Em-
perors succeeded. Probus, in six years of inces-
sant fighting, repeated the triumphs of Aurelian,
and carried his successful arms east, west, and north.
Carus, despite his sixty years, crossed the Tigris
and made good — at any rate in part — his threat
to render Persia as naked of trees as his own bald
head was bare of hairs. But Carus's reign was
brief, and at his death the Empire was divided
between his two sons, Carinus and Numerian.
The former was a voluptuary ; the latter, a youth
of retiring and scholarly disposition, quite unfitted
* Vopiscus, Florianus, c. 6,

The Empire under Diocletian 5

for a soldier's life, was soon slain by his Praetorian
praefect, Arrius Aper. But the choice of the army
fell upon Diocletian, and he, after stabbing to the
heart the man who had cleared his way to the throne,
gathered up into his strong hands the reins of power
in the autumn of 284. He met in battle the army
of Carinus at Margus, in Moesia, during the spring
of 285. Carinus was slain by his ofificers and Dio-
cletian reigned alone.

But he soon found that he needed a colleague to
halve with him the dangers and the responsibilities of
empire. He, therefore, raised his lieutenant, Max-
imian, to the purple, with the title of Caesar, and a
twelvemonth later gave him the full name and
honours of Augustus. There were thus two armies,
two sets of court ofificials, and two palaces, but the
edicts ran in the joint name of both Augusti. Then,
when still further division seemed advisable, the
principle of imperial partnership was extended, and
it was decided that each Augustus should have a
Caesar attached to him. Galerius was promoted to
be the Caesar of Diocletian ; Constantius to be the
Caesar of Maximian. Each married the daughter of
his patron, and looked forward to becoming Augus-
tus as soon as his superior should die. The plan
was by no means perfect, but there was much to be
said in its favour. An Emperor like Diocletian,
the nominee of the eastern army alone and the son
of a Dalmatian slave, had few, if any, claims upon
the natural loyalty of his subjects. Himself a suc-
cessful adventurer, he knew that other adventurers
would rise to challenge his position, if they could

6 Constantine

find an army to back them. By entrusting Max-
imian with the sovereignty of the West, he forestalled
Maximian's almost certain rivalry, and the four
great frontiers each required the presence of a power-
ful army and an able commander-in-chief. By hav-
ing three colleagues, each of whom might hope in
time to become the senior Augustus, Diocletian
secured himself, so far as security was possible,
against military rebellion.

Unquestionably, too, this decentralisation tended
towards general efficiency. It was more than one
man's task, whatever his capacity, to hold together
the Empire as Diocletian found it. Gaul was ablaze
from end to end with a peasants' war. Carausius
ruled for eight years in Britain, which he tempor-
arily detached from the Empire, and, secure in his
naval strength, forced Diocletian and Maximian,
much to their disgust, to recognise him as a brother
Augustus. This archpirate, as they called him, was
crushed at last, but whenever Constantius crossed
into Britain it was necessary for Maximian to move
up to the vacant frontier of the Rhine and mount
guard in his place. We hear, too, of Maximian fight-
ing the Moors in Mauretania. War was thus inces-
sant in the West. In the East, Diocletian recovered
Armenia for Roman influence in 287 by placing his
nominee, Tiridates, on the throne. This was done
without a breach with Parthia, but in 296 Tiridates
was expelled and war ensued. Diocletian summoned
Galerius from the Danube and entrusted him with
the command. But Galerius committed the same
blunder which Crassus had made three centuries and

The Empire under Diocletian 7

a half before. He led his troops into the wastes of
the Mesopotamian desert and suffered the inevitable
disaster. When he returned with the survivors of
his army to Antioch, Diocletian, it is said, rode forth
to meet him ; received him with cold displeasure ;
and, instead of taking him up into his chariot, com-
pelled him to march alongside on foot, in spite of
his purple robe. However, in the following year,
297, Galerius faced the Parthian with a new army,
took the longer but less hazardous route through
Armenia, and utterly overwhelmed the enemy in a
night attack. The victory was so complete that
Narses sued for peace, paying for the boon no less
a price than the whole of Mesopotamia and five pro-
vinces in the valley of the Tigris, and renouncing
all claim to the sovereignty of Armenia.

This was the greatest victory which Rome had won
in the East since the campaigns of Trajan and
Vespasian. It was followed by fifty years of pro-
found peace ; and the ancient feud between Rome
and Parthia was not renewed until the closing
days of the reign of Constantine. Lactantius, of
whose credibility as a historian we shall speak
later on, sneers at the victory of Galerius, which
he says was " easily won " * over an enemy encum-
bered by baggage, and he represents him as being
so elated with his success that when Diocletian
addressed him in a letter of congratulation by the
name of Caesar, he exclaimed,f with glowing eyes
and a voice of thunder, " How long shall I be

* De Mart. Per sec, c. 9: Non difficiliter oppressit.

\ Truci vuliii ac voce terribili, Quousque tandem Casar ?

8 Constantine

merely Caesar?" But there is no word of cor-
roboration from any other source. On the contrary,
we can see that Diocletian, whose forte was di-
plomacy rather than generalship, was on the best
of terms with his son-in-law, Galerius, who regarded
him not with contempt, but with the most pro-
found respect. Diocletian and Galerius, for their
lifetime at any rate, had settled the Eastern ques-
tion on a footing entirely satisfactory and honour-
able to Rome. A long line of fortresses was estab-
ished on the new frontier, within which there was
perfect security for trade and commerce, and the re-
sult was a rapid recovery from the havoc caused by
the Gothic and Parthian irruptions.

Though Diocletian had divided the supreme
power, he was still, the moving and controlling
spirit, by whose nod all things were governed.* He
had chosen for his own special domain Asia, Syria,
and Egypt, fixing his capital at Nicomedia, which he
had filled with stately palaces, temples, and public
buildings, for he indulged the dream of making his
city the rival of Rome. Galerius ruled the Danubian
provinces with Greece and Illyricum from his capital
at Sirmium. Maximian, the Augustus of the West,
ruled over Italy, Africa, and Spain from Milan;
Constantius watched over Gaul and Britain, with
headquarters at Treves and at York. But every-
where the writ of Diocletian ran. He took the
majestic name of Jovius, while Maximian styled
himself Herculius ; and it stands as a marvellous
tribute to his commanding influence that we hear

* Cujus nutu omnia gubernabantur.

The Empire under Diocletian 9

of no friction between the four masters of the
world.

Diocletian profoundly modified the character of
the Roman Principate. He orientalised it, adopting
frankly and openly the symbols and paraphernalia
of royalty which had been so repugnant to the
Roman temper. Hitherto the Roman Emperors
had been, first and foremost, Imperators, heads of
the army, soldiers in the purple. Diocletian became
a King, clad in sumptuous robes, stiff with embroid-
ery and jewels. Instead of approaching with the
old military salute, those who came into his presence
bent the knee and prostrated themselves in adora-
tion. The monarch surrounded himself, not with
mihtary praefects, but with chamberlains and court
officials, the hierarchy of the palace, not of the camp.
We cannot wholly impute this change to vanity
or to that littleness of mind which is pleased with
pomp and elaborate ceremonial. Diocletian was
too great a man to be swayed by paltry motives.
It was rather that his subjects had abdicated their
old claim to be called a free and sovereign people,
and were ready to be slaves. The whole senatorial
order had been debarred by Gallienus from enter-
ing the army, and had acquiesced without apparent
protest in an edict which closed to its members
the profession of arms. Diocletian thought that
his throne would be safer by removing it from the
ken of the outside world, by screening it from vul-
gar approach, by deepening the mystery and im-
pressiveness attaching to palaces, by elaborating the
court ceremonial, and exalting even the simplest of

lo Constantine

domestic services into the dignity of a liturgy. It
may be that these changes intensified the servility
of the subject, and sapped still further the man-
hood and self-respect of the race. Let it not be
forgotten, however, that the ceremonial of the mod-
ern courts of Europe may be traced directly back
to the changes introduced by Diocletian, and also
that the ceremonial, which the older school of
Romans would have thought degrading and effem-
inate, was, perhaps, calculated to impress by its
stateliness, beauty, and dignity the barbarous na-
tions which were supplying the Roman armies with
troops.

We will reserve to a later chapter some account
of the remodelled administration, which Constan-
tine for the most part accepted without demur.
Here we may briefly mention the decentralisation
which Diocletian carried out in the provinces.
Lactantius* says that " he carved the provinces up
into little fragments that he might fill the earth
with terror," and suggests that he multiplied offi-
cials in order to wring more money out of his
subjects. That is an enemy's perversion of a wise
statesman's plan for securing efificiency by lessening
the administrative areas, and bringing them within
working limits. Diocletian split up the Empire into
twelve great dioceses. Each diocese again was sub-
divided into provinces. There were fifty-seven of
these when he came to the throne ; when he quitted
it there were ninety-six. The system had grave

* Et, ut omnia ter7-ore complerentur, provincicz quoque in frusta
concisx [De Mart. Per sec, c. 7).

The Empire under Diocletian n

faults, for the principles on which the finances of the
Empire rested were thoroughly mischievous and un-
sound. But the reign of Diocletian was one of rapid
recuperation and great prosperity, such as the Ro-
man world had not enjoyed since the days of the
Antonines,

CHAPTER II

THE PERSECUTION OF THE CHURCH

UNFORTUNATELY for the fame of Diocletian
there is one indehble blot upon the record of
his reign. He attached his name to the edicts
whereby was let loose upon the Christian Church
the last and — in certain provinces — the fiercest of
the persecutions. Inasmuch as the affairs of the
Christian Church will demand so large a share of our
attention in dealing with the religious policy of Con-
stantine, it will be well here to describe, as briefly as
possible, its condition in the reign of Diocletian.
It has been computed that towards the end of the
third century the population of the Roman Empire
numbered about a hundred millions. What propor-
tion were Christians ? No one can say with certainty,
but they were far more numerous in the East than
in the West, among the Greek-speaking peoples
of Asia than among the Latin-speaking peoples of
Europe. Perhaps if we reckon them at a twelfth of
the whole we shall rather underestimate than over-
estimate their number, while in certain portions of
Asia and Syria they were probably at least one in
five. Christianity had spread with amazing rapidity

The Persecution of the Church 13

since the days of Domitian. There had been spas-
modic outbreaks of fierce persecution under Decius,
— " that execrable beast," as Lactantius calls him, —
under Valerian, and under Aurelian. But Aurelian's
reign was short and he had been too busy fighting
to spare much time for religious persecution. The
tempest quickly blew over. For fully half a cent-
ury, with brief interludes of terror, the Church had
been gathering strength and boldness.

The policy of the State towards it was one of in-
difference. Gallienus, indeed, the worthless son of
Valerian, had issued edicts of toleration, which
might be considered cancelled by the later edicts of
Aurelian or might not. If the State wished to be
savage, it could invoke the one set ; if to be mild, it
could invoke the other. There was, therefore, no
absolute security for the Church, but the general
feeling was one of confidence. The army contained
a large number of Christians, of all ranks and condi-
tions, ofHcers, centurions, and private soldiers. Many
of the ofificials of the civil service were Christians.
The court and the palace were full of them. Dio-
cletian's wife, Prisca, was a Christian ; so was Valeria,
his daughter. So, too, were many of his chamber-
lains, secretaries, and eunuchs. If Christianity had
been a proscribed religion, if the Christians had an-
ticipated another storm, is it conceivable that they
would have dared to erect at Nicomedia, within full
view of the palace windows, a large church situated
upon an eminence in the centre of the city, and evi-
dently one of its most conspicuous structures ? No,
Christianity in the East felt tolerably safe and was

14 Constantine

advancing from strength to strength, conscious of its
increasing powers and of the benevolent neutrahty
of Diocletian. Christians who took office were re-
lieved from the necessity of offering incense or pre-
siding at the games. The State looked the other
way ; the Church was incHned to let them off with
the infliction of some nominal penance. Nor was
there much difficulty about service in the army.
Probably few enlisted in the legions after they had
become Christians ; against this the Church set her
face. But she permitted the converted soldier to re-
main true to his military oath, for she did not wish
to become embroiled with the State. In a word,
there was deep religious peace, at any rate in Dio-
cletian's special sphere of influence, Asia, Egypt,
and Syria.

It is to be remembered, however, that there were
four rulers, men of very different characters and each,
therefore, certain to regard Christianity from a dif-
ferent standpoint. Thus there might be religious
peace in Asia and persecution in the West, as, in-
deed, there was — partial and spasmodic, but still
persecution. Maximian was cruel and ambitious, an
able soldier of the hard Roman type, no respecter of
persons, and careless of human life. Very few mod-
ern historians have accepted the story of the massacre
of the Theban Legion at Agauna, near Lake Leman,
for refusal to offer sacrifice and take the oath to the
Emperor. According to the legend, the legion was
twice decimated and then cut to pieces. But it is
impossible to believe that there could have been a
legion or even a company of troops from Thebes in

The Persecution of the Church 15

Egypt, wholly composed of Christians, and, even
supposing the facts to have been as stated, their
refusal to march in obedience to the Emperor's
orders and rejoin the main army at a moment when
an active campaign was in progress, simply invited
the stroke of doom. Maximian was not the man to
tolerate mutiny in the face of the enemy.

But still there were many Christian victims of
Maximian wherever he took up his quarters — at
Rome, Aquileia, Marseilles — mostly soldiers whose
refusal to sacrifice brought down upon them the
arm of the law. Maximian is described in the
" Passion of St. Victor" as " a great dragon," but
the story, even as told by the hagiologist, scarcely
justifies the epithet. Just as the military praefects,
before whom Victor was first taken, begged him to
reconsider his position, so Maximian, after ordering
a priest to bring an altar of Jupiter, turned to Vic-
tor and said * : " Just offer a few grains of incense ;
placate Jupiter and be our friend." Victor's answer
was to dash the altar to the ground from the hands
of the priest and place his foot triumphantly upon
it. We may admire the fortitude of the martyr,
but the martyrdom was self-infiicted, and the anger
of the Emperor not wholly unwarranted. " Be our
friend," he had said, and his overtures were spurned
with contempt.

We may suspect, indeed, that this partial persecu-
tion was due rather to the insistence of the martyrs
themselves than to deliberate policy on the part of
Maximian. When enthusiastic Christians thrust

* Pone thura: placa Jovetn et nosier amicus esto.

1 6 Constantine

their Christianity upon the official notice of the au-
thorities, insulted the Emperor or the gods, and re-
fused to take the oath or sacrifice on ceremonial
occasions, then martyrdom was the result, and little
notice was taken, for life was cheap. Diocletian, as we
have seen, rather patronised than persecuted Christ-
ianity. Maximian's inclinations towards cruelty
were kept in check by the known wishes of his senior
colleague. Constantius, the Caesar of Gaul, was one
of those refined characters, tolerant and sympathetic
by nature, to whom the idea of persecution for the
sake of religion was intensely repugnant ; and Gal-
erius, the Caesar of Pannonia, the most fanatical
pagan of the group, was not likely, at any rate dur-
ing the first few years after his elevation, to run
counter to the wishes of his patron.

What was it, then, that wrought the fatal change
in the mind of Diocletian and turned him from
benevolent neutrality to fierce antagonism ? Lac-
tantius attributes it solely to the baleful influence
of Galerius, whom he paints in the very blackest
colours. He was a wild beast, a savage barbarian
of alien blood, tall in stature, a mountain of flesh,
abnormally bloated, terrifying to look at, and with
a voice that made men shiver.* Behind this mon-
ster stood his mother, a barbarian woman from be-
yond the Danube, priestess of some wild deity of
the mountains, imbued with a fanatical hatred of
the Christians, which she was for ever instilling into
her son. When we have stripped away the obvious
exaggeration of this onslaught we may still accept

* De Mart. Per sec, c. 9.

The Persecution of the Church 1 7

the main statement and admit that Galerius was
the most active and unsparing enemy of the Christ-
ians in the Imperial circle. This rough soldier,
trained in the school of two such martinets as Au-
relian and Probus, who enforced military discipline
by the most pitiless methods, would not stay to
reason with a soldier's religious prejudices. Un-
hesitating obedience or death — that was the only
choice he gave to those who served under him, and
when, after his great victory over the Parthians,
his position and prestige in the East were beyond
challenge, we find Christian martyrdoms in the track
of his armies, in the Anti-Taurus, in Coele-Syria, in
Samosata.

Galerius began to purge his army of Christians.
Unless they would sacrifice, officers were to lose
their rank and private soldiers to be dismissed ig-
nominiously without the privileges of long service.
Several were put to death in Moesia, where a cer-
tain Maximus was Governor. Among them was a
veteran named Julius, who had served in the legion
for twenty-six years, and fought in seven campaigns,
without a single black mark having been entered
against his name for any military offence. Maxi-
mus did his best to get him off. " Julius," he said,
" I see that you are a man of sense and wisdom.
Suffer yourself to be persuaded and sacrifice to the
gods." " I will not," was the reply, " do what you
ask. I will not incur by an act of sin eternal punish-
ment." " But," said the Governor, " I take the sin
upon myself. I will use compulsion so that you may
not seem to act voluntarily. Then you will be able

1 8 Constantine

to return in peace to your house. You will receive
the bounty of ten denarii and no one will molest
you." Evidently, Maximus was heartily sorry that
such a fine old soldier should take up a posi-
tion which seemed to him so grotesquely indefen-
sible. But what was Julius's reply? "Neither this
Devil's money nor your specious words shall cause
me to lose eternal God. I cannot deny Him. Con-
demn me as a Christian." After the interrogation
had gone on for some time, Maximus said : " I pity
you, and I beg you to sacrifice, so that you may
live with us." " To live with you would be death
for me," rejoined Julius, " but if I die, I shall live."
" Listen to me and sacrifice ; if not, I shall have to
keep my word and order you to death." " I have
often prayed that I might merit such an end."
" Then you have chosen to die ? " "I have chosen a
temporary death, but an eternal life." Maximus
then passed sentence, and the law took its course.

On another occasion the Governor said to two
Christians, named Nicander and Marcian, who had
proved themselves equally resolute, " It is not I
whom you resist ; it is not I who persecute you.
My hands are unstained by your blood. If you
know that you will fare well on your journey, I con-
gratulate you.* Let your desire be accomplished."
" Peace be with you, merciful judge," cried both the
martyrs as the sentence was pronounced.

The movement seems gradually to have spread
from the provinces of Galerius to those of Max-
imian. At Tangiers, Marcellus, a centurion of the

* Si autem scitis vos bene ituros, gratulor vobis.

The Persecution of the Church 19

Legion of Trajan, threw down his centurion's staff
and belt and refused to serve any longer. He did
so in the face of the whole army assembled to sac-
rifice in honour of Maximian's birthday. A similar
scene took place in Spain at Calahorra, near Tar-
raco, where two soldiers cast off their arms exclaim-
ing, " We are called to serve in the shining company
of angels. There Christ commands His cohorts,
clothed in white, and from his lofty throne con-
demns your infamous gods, and you, who are the
creatures of these gods, or, we should say, these
ridiculous monsters." Death followed as a matter
of course. Looking at the evidence with absolute
impartiality, one begins to suspect that the process
of clearing the Christians out of the army was due
quite as much to the fanaticism of certain Christian
soldiers eager for martyrdom, as to any lust for blood
on the part even of Galerius and Maximian.

But what we have to account for is the rise of a
fierce anti-Christian spirit which induced Diocletian
— for even Lactantius admits that he was not easily
persuaded — to take active measures against the
Christians. It is certainly noteworthy that about
this time the only school of philosophy which was
alive, active, and at all original, was definitely anti-
Christian. We refer, of course, to the Neo-Platon-
ists of Alexandria. Their principal exponent was
the philosopher Porphyry, who carried on a violent
anti-Christian propaganda, though he seems to have
borrowed from Christianity, and more especially
from the rigorously ascetic form which Christianity
had assumed in Egypt, many of his leading tenets.

20 Constantine

The morality which Porphyry inculcated was ele-
vated and pure ; his religion was mystical to such a
degree that none but an expert philosopher could
follow him into the refinements of his abstractions ;
but he had for the Christian Church a " theological
hatred " of extraordinary bitterness. The treatise
— in fifteen books — in which he assailed the Div-
inity of Christ apparently set a fashion in anti-
Christian literature. We hear, for example, of
another unnamed philosopher who " vomited three
books against the Christian religion," and the vio-
lence with which Lactantius denounces him as " an
accomplished hypocrite " makes one suspect that
his work had a considerable success. Still better
known was Hierocles, Governor at one time of
Palmyra, and then transferred to the royal province
of Bithynia, who wrote a book to which he gave
the name of The Friend of Truth, and addressed
it, " To the Christians." Its interest lies chiefly in
the fact that its author compares with the miracles
wrought by Christ those attributed to Apollonius
of Tyana, and denies divinity to both. Lactantius
tells us that this Hierocles was " author and coun-
sellor of the persecution,"* and we may judge,
therefore, that there existed among the pagans a
powerful party bitterly opposed to Christianity,
carrying on a vigorous campaign against it, and
urging upon the Emperors the advisability of a
sharp repressive policy.

They would have no difficulty in making out a
case against the Christians which on the face of it

'■ De Mort. Per sec, c, i6.

The Persecution of the Church 21

seemed plausible and overwhelming. They would
point to the fanatical spirit manifested, as we have
seen, by a large number of Christian soldiers in the
army, which led them to throw down their arms,
blaspheme the gods, and deny the Emperors. They
would point to the anti-social movement, which was
especially marked in Egypt, where the example of
St. Antony was drawing crowds of men and women
away into the desert to live out their lives, either in
solitary cells as hermits, or as members of religious
communities equally ascetic, and almost equally soli-
tary. They would point to the aloofness even of the
ordinary Christian in city or in town from its common
life, and to his avoidance of office and public duties.
They would point to the extraordinary closeness of
the ties which bound Christians together, to their
elaborate organisation, to the implicit and ready
obedience they paid to their bishops, and would ask
whether so powerful a secret society, with ramifica-
tions everywhere throughout the Empire, was not
inevitably a menace to the established authorities,
The Christians were peaceable enough. To accuse
them of plotting rebellion was hardly possible,
though the most outrageous calumnies against them
and their rites were sedulously fostered in order to
inflame the minds of the rabble, just as they were
against the Jews in the Middle Ages, and are, even at
the present day, in certain parts of the Continent of
Europe. But, at bottom, the real strength of the
case against the Christians lay in the fact that the more
enlightened pagans saw that Christianity was the
solvent which was bound to loosen all that held

2 2 Constantine

pagan society together. They instinctively felt
what was coming, and were sensible of approaching
doom. Christianity was the enemy, the proclaimed
enemy, of their religion, of their point of view of this
life as well as of the next, of their customs, of their
pleasures, of their arts. Paganism was fighting for
existence. What wonder that it snatched at any
weapon wherewith to strike ?

The personal attitude of Diocletian towards re-
ligion in general is best seen in the edict which he
issued against the Manichaeans. The date is some-
what uncertain, but it undoubtedly preceded the
anti-Christian edicts. Manichaeanism took its rise
in Persia, its principal characteristic being the prac-
tice of thaumaturgy, and it spread fast throughout
the East. Diocletian ordered the chiefs of the sect
to be burned to death ; their followers were to have
their goods confiscated and to suffer capital punish-
ment unless they recanted ; while persons of rank
who had disgraced themselves by joining such a
shameful and infamous set of men were to lose their
patrimony and be sent to the mines. These were
savage enactments, and it is important to see how
the Emperor justified them. Fortunately his lan-
guage is most explicit. " The gods," he says, " have
determined what is just and true; the wisest of
mankind, by counsel and by deed, have proved and
firmly established their principles. It is not, there-
fore, lawful to oppose their divine and human wis-
dom, or to pretend that a new religion can correct
the old one. To wish to change the institutions of
our ancestors is the greatest of crimes." Nothing

BUST OF DIOCLETIAN.

The Persecution of the Church 23

could be clearer. It is the old official defence of the
State religion, that men are not wiser than their
fathers, and that innovation in worship is likely to
bring down the wrath of the gods. Moreover, as
the edict points out, this Manichaeanism came from
Persia, the traditional enemy of Rome, and threat-
ened to corrupt the " modest and tranquil Roman
people " with the detestable manners and infamous
laws of the Orient. " Modest and tranquil " are not
the epithets which posterity has chosen to apply to
the Roman people of the Empire, but Diocletian's
point is obvious. Manichaeanism was a device of
the enemy ; it must be poison, therefore, to the good
Roman. Such an argument was born of prejudice
rather than of reason ; we shall see it applied yet
again to the Christians, and applied even by the
Christian Church to its own schismatics and heretics.
It was during the winter of 302 that the question
was carefully debated by Diocletian and Galerius —
the latter was staying with the senior Augustus
at Nicomedia — whether it was advisable to take
repressive measures against the Christians. Accord-
ing to Lactantius, Galerius clamoured for blood,
while Diocletian represented how mischievous it
would be to throw the whole world into a ferment,
and how the Christians were wont to welcome mar-
tyrdom. He argued, therefore, that it would be quite
enough if they purged the court and the army.
Then, as neither would give way, a Council was
called, which sided with Galerius rather than with
Diocletian, and it was decided to consult the oracle
of Apollo at Miletus. Apollo returned the strange

24 Constantine

answer that there were just men on the earth who
prevented him from speaking the truth, and gave
that as the reason why the oracles which proceeded
from his tripods were false. The "just men " were,
of course, the Christians. Diocletian yielded, only
stipulating that there should be no bloodshed, while
Galerius was for burning all Christians alive. Such
is Lactantius's story, and it does credit to Diocletian,
inasmuch as it shews his profound reluctance to dis-
turb the internal peace which his own wise policy
had established. As a propitious day, the Festival
of the Terminalia, February 23, 303, was chosen for
the inauguration of the anti-Christian campaign.
The church at Nicomedia was levelled to the ground
by the Imperial troops and, on the following day, an
edict was issued depriving Christians of their priv-
ileges as full Roman citizens. They were to be de-
prived of all their honours and distinctions, whatever
their rank ; they were to be liable to torture ; they
were to be penalised in the courts by not being
allowed to prosecute for assault, adultery, and theft.
Lactantius well says * that they were to lose their
liberty and their right of speech. The penalties ex-
tended even to slaves. If a Christian slave refused
to renounce his religion he was never to receive his
freedom. The churches, moreover, were to be de-
stroyed and Christians were forbidden to meet to-
gether. No bloodshed was threatened, as Diocletian
had stipulated, but the Christian was reduced to the
condition of a pariah. The edict was no sooner

* Liber tatem denique ac vocem non haberent {De Mort. Per sec,
c. 13).

The Persecution of the Church 25

posted up than, with a bitter jibe at the Emperors,
some bold, indignant Christian tore it down. He
was immediately arrested, tortured, racked, and
burnt at the stake. Diocletian had been right.
The Christians made willing martyrs.

Soon afterwards there was an outbreak of fire at
the palace. Lactantius accuses Galerius of having
contrived it himself so that he might throw the
odium upon the Christians, and he adds that Gal-
erius so worked upon the fears of Diocletian that
he gave leave to every ofifiicial in the palace to use
the rack in the hope of getting at the truth. No-
thing was discovered, but fifteen days later there
was another mysterious outbreak. Galerius, pro-
testing that he would stay no longer to be burnt
alive, quitted the palace at once, though it was bad
weather for travelling. Then, says Lactantius, Dio-
cletian allowed his blind terrors to get the better of
him, and the persecution began in earnest. He
forced his wife and daughter to recant ; he purged
the palace, and put to death some of his most pow-
erful eunuchs, while the Bishop of Nicomedia was
beheaded, and crowds of less distinguished victims
were thrown into prison. Whether there was in-
cendiarism or not, no one can say. Eusebius, in-
deed, tells us that Constantine, who was living in the
palace at the time, declared years afterwards to the
bishops at the Council of Nicaea that he had seen
with his own eyes the lightning descend and set fire
to the abode of the godless Emperor. But neither
Constantine nor Eusebius was to be believed im-
plicitly when it was a question of some supernatural

26 Constantine

occurrence between earth and heaven. The double
conflagration is certainly suspicious, but tyrants
do not, as a rule, set fire to their own palaces when
they themselves are in residence, however strong
may be their animus against some obnoxious party
in the State.

A few months passed and Diocletian published a
second edict ordering the arrest of all bishops and
clergy who refused to surrender their " holy books"
to the civil officers. Then, in the following year,
came a third, offering freedom to all in prison if they
consented to sacrifice, and instructing magistrates to
use every possible means to compel the obstinate
to abandon their faith. These edicts provoked a
frenzy of persecution, and Gaul and Britain alone
enjoyed comparative immunity. Constantius could
not, indeed, entirely disregard an order which bore
the joint names of the two Augusti, but he took
care that there was no over-zealousness, and, ac-
cording to a well-known passage of Lactantius, he
allowed the meeting-places of the Christians, the
buildings of wood and stone which could easily be
restored, to be torn down, but preserved in safety
the true temple of God, viz., the bodies of His
worshippers.* Elsewhere the persecution may be
traced from province to province and from city to
city in the mournful and poignant documents known
as the Passions of the Martyrs. Naturally it varied
in intensity according to local conditions and accord-
ing to the personal predilections of the magistrates.

* Verum autefu Dei templum, quod est in hominibus, incolume
servavit. ( De Mort. Per sec. c. 15).

The Persecution of the Church 27

Where the populace was fiercely anti-Christian or
where the pagan priests were zealous, there the
Christians suffered severely. Their churches would
be razed to the ground and the prisons would be
full. Some of the weaker brethren would recant;
others would hide themselves or quit the district ;
others again would suffer martyrdom. In more for-
tunate districts, where public opinion was with the
Christians, the churches might not be destroyed,
though they stood empty and silent.

The fiercest persecution seems to have taken
place in Asia Minor. There had been a partial re-
volt of the troops at Antioch, easily suppressed by
the Antiochenes themselves, but Diocletian appar-
ently connected it in some way with the Christians
and let his hand fall heavily upon them. Just at
this time, moreover, in the neighbouring kingdom of
Armenia, Saint Gregory the Illuminator was preach-
ing the gospel with marvellous success, and the
Christians of Cappadocia, just over the border, paid
the penalty for the uneasiness which this ferment
caused to their rulers. We hear, for example, in
Phrygia of a whole Christian community being
extirpated. Magistrates, senators, and people — •
Christians all — had taken refuge in their principal
church, to which the troops set fire. Eusebius, in
his History of the Church, paints a lamentable
picture of the persecution which he himself witnessed
in Palestine and Syria, and, \n\\\s Life of Const ant ine,
he says * that even the barbarians across the
frontier were so touched by the sufferings of the

* Vita Const., ii., 53.

28 Constantine

Christian fugitives that they gave them shelter.
Athanasius, too, declares that he often heard sur-
vivors of the persecution say that many pagans
risked the loss of their goods and the chance of
imprisonment in order to hide Christians from the
ofificers of the law. There is no question of ex-
aggeration. The most horrible tortures were in-
vented ; the most barbarous and degrading pun-
ishments were devised. The victim who was simply
ordered to be decapitated or drowned was highly
favoured. In a very large number of cases death
was delayed as long as possible. The sufferer, after
being tortured on the rack, or having eyes or tongue
torn out, or foot or hand struck off, was taken back
to prison to recover for a second examination.

Even when the victim was dead the law frequent-
ly pursued the corpse with its futile vengeance. It
was no uncommon thing for a body to be thrown to
the dogs, or to be chopped into fragments and cast
into the sea, or to be burnt and the ashes flung upon
running water. He was counted a merciful judge
who allowed the friends of the martyr to bear away
the body to decent burial and lay it in the grave.
At Augsburg, when the magistrate heard that the
mother and three servants of a converted courtesan,
named Afra, had placed her body in a tomb, he
ordered all four to be enclosed in one grave with
the corpse and burnt alive.

It is, of course, quite impossible to compute the
number of the victims, but it was unquestionably
very large. We do not, perhaps, hear of as many
bishops and priests being put to death as might

The Persecution of the Church 29

have been expected, but if the extreme rigour of
the law had been enforced the Empire would have
been turned into a shambles. The fact is, as we
have said, that very much depended upon the per-
sonal character of the Governors and the local magis-
trates. In some places altars were put up in the
law courts and no one was allowed either to bring
or defend a suit without offering sacrifice. In other
towns they were erected in the market squares and
by the side of the public fountains, so that one could
neither buy nor sell, nor even draw water, without
being challenged to do homage to the gods. Some
Governors, such as Datianus in Spain, Theotecnus
in Galatia, Urbanus of Palestine, and Hierocles of
Bithynia and Egypt, were noted for the ferocity with
which they carried out the edicts; others — and,
when the evidence is carefully examined, the hu-
mane judges seem to have formed the majority —
presided with reluctance at these lamentable trials.
Many exhausted every means in their power to con-
vert the prisoners back to the old religion, partly
from motives of humanity, and partly, no doubt,
because their success in this respect gained them
the notice and favour of their superiors.

We hear of magistrates who ordered the attend-
ants of the court to place by force a few grains of
incense in the hands of the prisoner and make him
sprinkle it upon the altar, or to thrust into his
mouth a portion of the sacrificial meat. The victim
would protest against his involuntary defilement,
but the magistrate would declare that the offering
had been made. Often, the judge sought to bribe

30 Constantine

the accused into apostasy. " If you obey the Gov-
ernor," St. Victor of Galatia was told, "you shall
have the title of 'Friend of Caesar' and a post in
the palace." Theotecnus promised Theodotus of
Ancyra "the favour of the Emperors, the highest
municipal dignities, and the priesthood of Apollo."
The bribe was great, but it was withstood. The
steadfast confessor gloried in replying to every fresh
taunt, entreaty, or bribe, "I am a Christian." It
was to him the only, as well as the highest argument.
Sometimes the kindest-hearted judges were driven
to exasperation by their total inability to make the
slightest impression upon the Christians. " Do
abandon your foolish boasting," said Maximus, the
Governor of Cilicia, to Andronicus, " and listen to
me as you would listen to your father. Those who
have played the madman before you have gained
nothing by it. Pay honour to our Princes and our
fathers and submit yourself to the gods," " You
do well," came the reply, " to call them your fathers,
for you are the sons of Satan, the sons of the Devil,
whose works you perform." A few more remarks
passed between judge and prisoner and then Max-
imus lost his temper. " I will make you die by
inches," he exclaimed. " I despise," retorted An-
dronicus, " your threats and your menaces." While
an old man of sixty-five was being led to the tor-
ture, a friendly centurion said to him, " Have pity
on yourself and sacrifice." " Get thee from me,
minister of Satan," was the reply. The main feel-
ing uppermost in the mind of the confessor was one
of exultation that he had been found worthy to

The Persecution of the Church 31

suffer. Such a spirit could neither be bent nor
broken.

Of active disloyalty to the Emperor there is abso-
lutely no trace. Many Christian soldiers boasted of
their long and honourable service in the army ; civil-
ians were willing to pay unto Caesar the things that
were Caesar's. But Christ was their King. " There
is but one God," cried Alphseus and Zachaeus at
Caesarea, "and only one King and Lord, who is
Jesus Christ." To the pagan judge this was not
merely blasphemy against the gods, but treason
against the Emperor. Sometimes, but not often,
the martyr's feelings got the better of him and he
cursed the Emperor. " May you be punished," cried
the dauntless Andronicus to Maximus, when the
officers of the court had thrust between his lips the
bread and meat of sacrifice, "may you be punished,
bloody tyrant, you and they who have given you the
power to defile me with your impious sacrifices.
One day you will know what you have done to the
servants of God." " Accursed scoundrel," said the
judge, "dare you curse the Emperors who have
given the world such long and profound peace ?"
" I have cursed them and I will curse them," replied
Andronicus, " these public scourges, these drinkers
of blood, who have turned the world upside down.
May the immortal hand of God tolerate them no
longer and punish their cruel amusements, that they
may learn and know the evil they have done to
God's servants." No doubt, most Christians agreed
with the sentiments expressed by Andronicus, but
they rarely gave expression to them. " I have

32 Constantine

obeyed the Emperors all the years of my life," said
Bishop Philippus of Heraclea, " and, when their com-
mands are just, I hasten to obey. For the Holy
Scripture has ordered me to render to God what is
due to God and to Caesar what is due to Caesar. I
have kept this commandment without flaw down to
the present time, and it only remains for me to give
preference to the things of heaven over the attrac-
tions of this world. Remember what I have already
said several times, that I am a Christian and that I
refuse to sacrifice to your gods." Nothing could be
more dignified or explicit. It is the Emperor-God
and his fellow deities of Olympus, not the Emperor,
to whom the Christian refuses homage. During a
trial at Catania in Sicily the judge, Calvisianus, said
to a Christian, " Unhappy man, adore the gods,
render homage to Mars, Apollo, and ^sculapius."
The answer came without a second's hesitation : " I
adore the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost — the Holy
Trinity — beyond whom there is no God. Perish the
gods who have not made heaven and earth and all
that they contain. I am a Christian." From first to
last, in Spain as in Africa, in Italy as in Sicily, this is
the alpha and the omega of the Christian position,
" Christianiis sum.'"

To what extent was the martyrdom self-infiicted ?
How far did the Christians pile with their own hands
the faggots round the stakes to which they were
tied? It is significant that some churches found it
necessary to condemn the extraordinary exaltation
of spirit which drove men and women to force them-
selves upon the notice of the authorities and led

The Persecution of the Church 33

them to regard flight from danger as culpable wake-
ness. They not only did not encourage but strictly
forbade the overthrowing of pagan statues or altars
by zealous Christians anxious to testify to their
faith. They did not wish, that is to say, to provoke
certain reprisals. Yet, in spite of all their efforts,
martyrdom was constantly courted by rash and ex-
citable natures in the frenzy of religious fanaticism,
hke that which impelled Theodorus of Amasia in
Pontus to set fire to a temple of Cybele in the mid-
dle of the city and then boast openly of the deed.
Often, however, such martyrs were mere children.
Such was Eulalia of Merida, a girl of twelve, whose
parents, suspecting her intention, had taken her
into the country to be out of harm's way. She es-
caped their vigilance, returned to the city, and,
standing before the tribunal of the judge, proclaimed
herself a Christian.

" Mane superba tribunal adit,
Fascibus adstat et in mediis. "

The judge, instead of bidding the ofificials remove
the child, began to argue with her, and the argu-
ment ended in Eulalia spitting in his face and over-
turning the statue which had been brought for her
to worship. Then came torture and the stake, a
martyred saint, and in later centuries a stately
church, flower festivals, and a charming poem from
the Christian poet, Prudentius. But even his grace-
ful verses do not reconcile us to the pitiful futility of
such child-martyrdom as that of Eulalia of Merida
or Asrnes of Rome.

34 Constantine

Or take, again, the pathetic inscription found at
Testur, in Northern Africa ;

'''' Sane tee. Ti-es ;
Maxi7Jia,
Donatilla
Et Secunda,
Bona Puella"

These were three martyrs of Thuburbo. Two of
them, Maxima and Donatilla, had been denounced
to the judge by another woman, Secunda, a child
of twelve, saw her friends from a window in her
father's house, as they were being dragged off to
prison. "Do not abandon me, my sisters," she
cried. They tried to wave her back. She insisted.
They warned her of the cruel fate which was certain
to await her; Secunda declared her confidence in
Him who comforts and consoles the little ones. In
the end they let her accompany them. All three
were sentenced to be torn by the wild beasts of the
amphitheatre, but when they stood up to face that
cruel death, a wild bear came and lay at their feet.
The judge, Anulinus, then ordered them to be
decapitated. Such is the story that lies behind
those simple and touching words, ''Secunda, Bona
Puellay

Nor were young men backward in their zeal for
the martyr's crown. Eusebius tells us of a band of
eight Christian youths at Caesarea, who confronted
the Governor, Urbanus, in a body shouting, " We are
Christians," and of another youth named Aphianus,
who, while reading the Scriptures, heard the voice

The Persecution of the Church 35

of the heralds summoning the people to sacrifice.
He at once made his way to the Governor's house,
and, just as Urbanus was in the act of offering liba-
tion, Aphianus caught his arm and upbraided him
for his idolatry. He simply flung his life away.

In this connection may be mentioned the five
martyred statuary workers belonging to a Pannonian
marble quarry. They had been converted by the
exhortations of Bishop Cyril, of Antioch, who had
been condemned to labour in their quarry, and, once
having become Christians, their calling gave them
great searching of heart. Did not the Scriptures
forbid them to make idols or graven images of false
gods? When, therefore, they refused to undertake
a statue of ^sculapius, they were challenged
as Christians, and sentenced to death. Yet they
had not thought it wrong to carve figures of Victory
and Cupid, and they seem to have executed without
scruple a marble group showing the sun in a chariot,
doubtless satisfying themselves that these were
merely decorative pieces, which did not necessarily
involve the idea of worship. But they preferred to
die rather than make a god for a temple, even
though that god were the gentle ^sculapius, the
Healer.

We might dwell at much greater length upon this
absorbing subject of the persecution of Diocletian,
and draw upon the Passions of the Saints for further
examples of the marvellous fortitude with which so
many of the Christians endured the most fiendish
tortures for the sake of their faith. " I only ask one
favour," said the intrepid Asterius: "it is that you

36 Constantine

will not leave unlacerated a single part of my body."
In the presence of such splendid fidelity and such
unswerving faith, which made even the weakest
strong and able to endure, one sees why the eventual
triumph of the Church was certain and assured.
One can also understand why the memory and the
relics of the martyrs were preserved with such pas-
sionate devotion ; why their graves were considered
holy and credited with powers of healing ; and why,
too, the names of their persecutors were remembered
with such furious hatred. It may be too much to
expect the early chroniclers of the Church to be fair
to those who framed and those who put into execu-
tion the edicts of persecution, but we, at least, after
so many centuries, and after so many persecutions
framed and directed by the Churches themselves,
must try to look at the question from both sides and
take note of the absolute refusal of the Christian
Church to consent to the slightest compromise in its
attitude of hostility to the religious system which it
had already dangerously undermined.

It is not easy from a study of the Passions of the
Saints to draw any sweeping generalisations as to
what the public at large thought of the torture and
execution of Christians. We get a glimpse, indeed,
of the ferocity of the populace at Rome when Max-
imian went thither to celebrate the Ludi Cereales in
304. The " Passion of St. Savinus " shews an excited
crowd gathered in the Circus Maximus, roaring for
blood and repeating twelve times over the savage
cry, " Away with the Christians and our happiness is
complete. By the head of Augustus let not a Christ-

The Persecution of the Church il

ian survive." * Then, when they caught sight of
Hermogenianus, the city praefect, they called ten
times over to the Emperor, " May you conquer,
Augustus ! Ask the prsefect what it is we are
shouting." Such a scene was natural enough in the
Circus of Rome; was it typical of the Empire?
Doubtless in all the great cities, such as Alexandria,
Antioch, Ephesus, Carthage, the " baser sort " would
be quite ready to shout, " Away with the Christians."
But it is to be remembered that we find no trace any-
where in this persecution of a massacre on the scale
of that of St. Bartholomew or the Sicilian Vespers.
On the contrary, we see that though the prisons
were full, the relations of the Christians were usually
allowed to visit them, take them food, and listen to
their exhortations. Pamphilus of Caesarea, who was
in jail for two years, not only received his friends
during that period, but was able to go on making
copies of the Scriptures !

We rarely hear of the courts being packed with
anti-Christian crowds, or of the judges being incited
by popular clamour to pass the death sentence. The
reports of the trials shew us silent, orderly courts,
with the judges anxious not so much to condemn to
death as to make a convert. If Diocletian had
wanted blood he could have had it in rivers, not in
streams. But he did not. He wished to eradicate
what he believed to be an impious, mischievous, and,
from the point of view of the State's security, a
dangerous superstition. There was no talk of per-

* Christiani tollaiitur et voluptas constat; Per caput Augnsti Chris-
tiani nott sint.

Constantine

secuting for the sake of saving the souls of heretics;
that lamentable theory was reserved for a later day.
Diocletian persecuted for what he considered to be
the good of the State. He lived to witness the full
extent of his failure, and to realise the appalling
crime which he had committed against humanity,
amid the general overthrow of the political system
which he had so laboriously set up.

CHAPTER III

THE ABDICATION OF DIOCLETIAN AND THE SUC-
CESSION OF CONSTANTINE

ON the 1st of May, in the year 305, Diocletian,
by an act of unexampled abnegation, re-
signed the purple and retired into private life. The
renunciation was publicly performed, not in Rome,
for Rome had ceased to be the centre of the politi-
cal world, but on a broad plain in Bithynia, three
miles from Nicomedia, which long had been the
Emperor's favourite residence. In the centre of the
plain rose a little hill, upon which stood a column
surmounted by a statue of Jupiter. There, years
before, Diocletian had with his own hands invested
Galerius with the symbols of power ; there he was
now to perform the last act of a ruler by nominating
those whom he thought most fit to succeed him.
A large platform had been constructed ; the soldiers
of the legions had been ordered to assemble in sol-
dier's meeting and listen to their chief's farewell.
Diocletian took leave of them in few words. He
was old, he said, and infirm. He craved for rest
after a life of toil. The Empire needed stronger

40 Constantine

and more youthful hands than his. His work was
done. It was time for him to go.

The two August! were laying down their powers
simultaneously, for Maximian was performing a simi-
lar act of renunciation at Milan. The two Caesars, •
Constantius and Galerius, would thus automatically
move up into the empty places and become August!
in their stead. It had been necessary, therefore, to
select two new Caesars, and these Diocletian was
about to present to the loyalty of the legions. We
are told that the secret had been well kept, and
that the soldiers waited with suppressed excitement
until Diocletian suddenly announced that his choice
had fallen upon Severus, one of his trusted generals,
and upon Maximin Daza, a nephew of Galerius.
Severus had already been sent to Milan to be in-
vested by Maximian ; Maximin was present on the
tribunal and was then and there robed in the purple.
The ceremony over, Diocletian — a private citizen
once more, though he still retained the title of Au-
gustus— drove back to Nicomedia and at once set
out for Salona, on the Adriatic, where he had built
a sumptuous palace for his retirement.

The scene which we have depicted is described
most fully and most graphically by a historian whose
testimony, unfortunately, is entirely suspect in mat-
ters of detail. The author of The Deaths of the
Persecutors — it is very doubtful whether Lactan-
tius, to whom the work has long been attributed,
really wrote it, but for the sake of convenience of
reference we may credit him with it — is at once
the most untrustworthy and the most vigorous and

CONSTANTINE THE GREAT-
FROM GROSVENOR'3 " CONSTANTINOPLE.'

The Abdication of Diocletian 41

attractive writer of the period. His object through-
out is to blacken the characters of the Emperors
who persecuted the Christian Church, and he does
not scruple to distort their actions, pervert their
motives, and even invent, with well calculated malice,
stories to their discredit. Lactantius knows, or pre-
tends to know, all that takes place even in the most
secret recesses of the palace; he recounts all that
passes at the most confidential conferences; and
with consummate artistry he throws in circumstan-
tial details and touches of local colour which give an
appearance of truth, but are really the most convinc-
ing proofs of falsehood. Lactantius represents the
abdication of Diocletian as the act of an old man,
shattered in health, and even in mind, by a distress-
ing malady sent by Heaven as the just punishment
of his crimes. He depicts him cowering in tears be-
fore the impatient insolence of Galerius, nowperemp-
torily clamouring for the succession with threats of
civil war. They discuss who shall be the new Cae-
sars. "Whom shall we appoint ? " asks Diocletian.
" Severus," says Galerius. " What ? " says the other,
" that drunken sot of a dancer who turns night into
day and day into night?" " He is worthy," replies
Galerius, " for he has proved a faithful general,
and I have sent him to Maximian to be invested."
" Well, well," says the old man, " who is the second
choice?" "He is here," says Galerius, indicating
his nephew, a young semi-barbarian named Maximin
Daza. " Why, who is this you offer me?" " He is
my kinsman," is the reply. Then said Diocletian,
with a groan, " These are not fit men to whom to

42 Constantine

entrust the care of the State." " I have proved
them," said Galerius. " Well, you must look to
it," rejoins Diocletian, "you who are about to as-
sume the reins of the Empire. I have toiled enough.
While I ruled, I took care that the State stood
safe. If any harm now befalls, the fault is not
mine." *

Such is a characteristic specimen of Lactantius's
history, and so, when he comes to describe the cere-
mony of abdication, he makes Galerius draw Max-
imin Daza to the front of the group of imperial
ofificials by whom Diocletian is surrounded, and re-
presents the soldiers as staring in surprise at their
new Caesar, as at one whom they had never seen
before. Yet a favourite nephew of Galerius can
scarcely have been a stranger to the troops of Nico-
media. Galerius not only — according to Lactantius
— drew forward Maximin Daza, but at the same time
rudely thrust back into the throng the son of Con-
stantius, the senior of the two new Augusti. This
was young Constantine, the future Emperor, who
for some years past had been living at the Court of
Diocletian.

But it was no broken down Emperor in his dotage,
passing, according to the spasms of his malady,
from sanity to insanity, who resigned the throne
on the plain of Nicomedia. Diocletian was but
fifty-nine years of age. He had just recovered, it
is true, from a very severe illness, which, even on
the testimony of Lactantius, had caused "grief in
the palace, sadness and tears among his guards, and

* Lactant., De Mort. Per sec, c. 18.

The Abdication of Diocletian 43

anxious suspense throughout the whole State." * But
his brain was never clearer than when he took final
leave of his troops. His abdication was the culmin-
ating point of his policy. He had planned it twenty-
years before. He had kept it before his eyes through-
out a long and busy reign. It was the completion
of, the finishing touch to his great political system.
It would have been perfectly easy for Diocletian
to forswear himself. Probably very few of his con-
temporaries believed that he would fulfil his promise
to abdicate after twenty years of reign. Kings talk
of the allurements of retirement, but they usually
cling to power as tenaciously as to life. The first
Augustus had delighted to mystify his Ministers of
State by speaking of restoring the Republic. He
died an Emperor. Diocletian, alone of the Roman
Emperors, laid down the sceptre when he was at the
height of his glory. It_was .a hazardous experiment,
but he was faithful to his principles. He thought it
best for the worldJtHat its master should not grow
old and feeble on the throne.

Constantine, of whom we have just caught a
glimpse at the abdication of Diocletian, was born
either in 273 or 274. The uncertainty attaching to
the year of his birth attaches even more to its place.
No one now believes that he was born in Britain —
a pleasing fiction which was invented by English
monks, who delighted to represent his mother
Helena as the daughter of a British King, though
they were quite at a loss where to locate his king-
dom. The only foundation for this was a passage

* De Mori. Per sec, c. 17.

44 Constantine

in one of the Panegyrists, who said that Constan-
tine had bestowed lustre upon Britain " illic ori-
tcndoy But the words are now taken as referring to
his accession and not to his birth. He was certainly
proclaimed Emperor in Britain, and might thus be
said to have "sprung thence." Constantine's birth-
place seems to have been either Naissus, a city in
Upper Moesia, or Drepanum, a city near Nicomedia.
The balance of evidence, though none of it is very
trustworthy, inclines to the former.

His father was Constantius Chlorus, afterwards
Caesar and Augustus, but at the time of Constan-
tine's birth merely a promising officer in the Roman
army. Constantius belonged to one of the leading
families of Moesia and his mother was a niece of
the capable and soldierly Claudius, the conqueror of
the Goths. Claudius had only been dead four years
when Constantine was born, and we may suppose
that it was his influence which had set Constantius
in the way of rapid promotion. He had formed one
of those secondary marriages which were recognised
by Roman law, when the wife was not of the same
social standing as the husband. Helena is said to
have been the daughter of an innkeeper of Drepanum,
and Constantine's enemies lost no opportunity of
dwelling upon the obscurity of his ancestry upon his
mother's side. But that he was born in wedlock is be-
yond question. Had the relationship between Con-
stantius and Helena been an irregular one, there would
have been no need for Maximian to insist on a divorce
when he ratified Constantius's elevation to the purple
by giving him the hand of his daughter, Theodora.

The Succession of Constantine 45

Of Constantine's early years we know nothing,
though we may suppose that they were spent in the
eastern half of the Empire. Constantius served with
the eastern legions in the campaigns wlvich preceded
the accession of Diocletian in 284/and it is as a
young officer in the entourage of that Emperor that
Constantine makes his earliest appearance in history.
Eusebius tells us * that he first saw the future
champion of Christianity in the train of Diocletian
during one of the latter's visits to Palestine. He
recalls his vivid remembrance of the young Prince
standing at the Emperor's right hand and attracting
the gaze of all beholders by the beauty of his person
and the imposing air which betokened his con-
sciousness of having been born to rule. Eusebius
adds that while Constantine's physical strength
extorted the respectful admiration of his younger
associates, his remarkable qualities of prudence and
wisdom aroused the jealousy and excited the appre-
hensions of his chiefs. However, the recollections
of the Bishop of Caesarea, with half a century of
interval, are somewhat suspect, and we need see no
more than a high-spirted, handsome, and keen-witted
Prince in Eusebius's " paragon of bodily strength,
physical beauty, and mental distinction." As for
Diocletian's jealous fears, they are best refuted by
the fact that Constantine was promoted to be a
tribune of the first rank and saw considerable military
service. The foolish stories that his superiors set
him to fight a gigantic Sarmatian in single combat,
and dared him to contend against ferocious wild

*De Vita Const. A., IQ-

46 Constantine

beasts, in the hope that his pride and courage might
be his undoing, may be dismissed as childish. If
Diocletian had feared Constantine, Constantine
would never have survived his residence in the
palace.

It is certainly remarkable that we should know so
little, not only of the youth but of the early man-
hood of Constantine, who was at least in his thirty-,
first year when Diocletian retired into private life.
Why had he spent all those years in the East in-
stead of sharing with his father the dangers and
glories of his Gallic and British campaigns ? The
answer is doubtless to be found in the fact that it
was no part of Diocletian's system for the son
to succeed the father. Constantius's loyalty was
never in doubt, but Constantine, if Zosimus * can
be trusted, had already given evidence of consuming
ambition to rule. However that may be, it is
obvious that his position became much more haz-
ardous when Galerius succeeded Diocletian _ as
supreme ruler in the palace of Nicomedia. One
can understand Galerius wondering whether the
capable young Prince, who slept under his roof,
was destined to cross his path, and the anxiety
of Constantius, conscious of declining strength, that
his long-absent son should join him. Constantine
himself might well be uneasy, and scheme to quit
a place where he could not hope' to satisfy his
natural ambitions. We need not doubt, therefore,
that Constantius repeatedly sent messages to Gale-

* Zosimus, ii., 8. itEfti(pavr)<i yap rjv rjSr} TtoXkofi b Hare^cav
dvrov epooi ziji /3cx6tA.sta?.

The Succession of Constantine 47

rius asking that his son might come to him, or that
the son was eager to comply.

Lactantius, * who does his best to make history
romantic and exciting, describes the eventual escape
of Constantine in one of his most graphic chapters.
He shows us Galerius in his palace reluctantly
signing an order which authorised Constantine to
travel post across the Continent of Europe. He
only consented to do so, we are told, because he
could find no pretext for further delay, and he gave
the order to Constantine late in the afternoon, on
the understanding that he should see him again
in the morning to receive his final instructions.
Yet all the time, says Lactantius, Galerius was
scheming to find some excuse for keeping him in
Nicomedia, or contemplated sending a message to
Severus, asking him to delay Constantine when he
reached the border of northern Italy. Galerius then
took dinner, retired for the night, and slept so well
and deliberately that he did not wake until the
following midday (Ciivi consiilto ad niediiiin diem
usque dormisset). He then sent for Constantine to
come to his apartment. But Constantine was
already gone, scouring the roads as fast as the post
horses could carry him, and so anxious to increase
the distance between himself and Galerius that he
caused the tired beasts to be hamstrung at every
stage. He had waited for Galerius to retire and
had then slipped away, lest the Emperor should
change his mind. Galerius was furious when he
found that he had been outwitted. He ordered

* De Mart. Per sec, c. 24,

48 Constantine

pursuit. His servants came back to tell him that
the fugitive had swept the stables clear of horses.
And then Galerius could scarce restrain his tears
(Vix lacrimas teiiebat).

It is a story which does infinite credit to Lactan-
tius's feeling for strong melodramatic situation. No
picturesque detail is omitted — the setting sun, the
tyrant plotting vengeance over dinner, his resolve to
sleep long, his baffled triumph, the escaping hero,
and the butchery of the horses. Yet we question
if there is more than a shred of truth in the whole
story. Galerius would not have given Constantine
the sealed order overnight had he intended to take
it back the next morning. A word to the officer of
the watch in the palace and to the officer on duty at
the city gate would have prevented Constantine
from quitting Nicomedia. The imperial post service
must have been very much underhorsed if the Em-
peror's servants could not find mounts for the effec-
tive pursuit of a single fugitive. Galerius may very
well have been unwilling for Constantine to go, and
Constantine doubtless covered the early stages of
his long journey at express speed, in order to min-
imise the chance of recall, but the lurid details of
Lactantius are probably simply the outcome of his
own lively imagination.

Constantine seems to have found his father at the
port of Gessoriacum (Boulogne), just waiting for a
favourable wind to carry him across the Channel
into Britain. Constantius was ill, and welcomed
with great joy the son whom he had not seen for
many years. We do not know what time elapsed

The Succession of Constantine 49

before Constantius died at York,— apparently it was
after the conclusion of a campaign in Scotland, — but
before he died he commended to Constantine the
welfare of his young half-brothers and half-sisters,
the eldest of whom was no more than thirteen years
of age, and he also evidently commended Constan-
tine himself to the loyalty of his legions. The
Emperor, we are informed both by Lactantius and
by the author of the Seventh Panegyric, died with a
mind at rest because he was sure of his heir and suc-
cessor— Jupiter himself, says the pagan orator,*
stretched out his right hand and welcomed him
among the gods. Clearly, the ground had been
well prepared, for no sooner was the breath out of
Constantius's body than the troops saluted Constan-
tine with the title of Augustus. Aurelius Victor
adds the interesting detail that he had no stouter
supporter than Erocus, a Germanic King, who was
serving as an auxiliary in the Roman army. Con-
stantine was nothing loth, though, as usual in such
circumstances, he may have feigned a reluctance
which he did not feel. His panegyrist, indeed,
represents him as putting spurs to his horse to
enable him to shake off the robe which the soldiers
sought to throw over his shoulders, and suggests
that it had been Constantine's intention to write " to
the senior Princes" and consult their wishes as to
the choice of a successor. Had he done so, he knew
very well that Galerius would have sent over to Britain
some trusted lieutenant of his own to take command
and Constantine would have received peremptory

Pan. Vet,, vii., 7.
4

50 Constantine

orders to return. Instead of that, Constantine
assumed the insignia of an Emperor, and wrote to
Galerius announcing his elevation. Galerius, it is
said, hesitated long as to the course he should
adopt. That the news angered him we may be sure.
Apart from all personal considerations, this choice
of an Emperor by an army on active service was a
return to the bad old days of military rule, from
which Diocletian had rescued the Empire, and was
a clear warning that the new system had not been
established on a permanent basis. The only alter-
native, however, before Galerius was acceptance or
war. For the latter he was hardly prepared, and
moreover, there was no reply to the argument that
Constantius had been senior Augustus, and, there-
fore, had been fully entitled to have his word in the
appointment of a successor. Galerius gave way.
He accepted the laurelled bust which Constantine
had sent to him and, instead of throwing it into the
fire with the ofificer who had brought it — which,
according to Lactantius, had been his first impulse,
— he sent the messenger back with a purple robe to
his master as a sign that he frankly admitted his
claims to partnership in the Empire.

But while he acknov/ledged Constantine as Caesar,
he refused him the full title of Augustus, which he
bestowed upon the Caesar Severus. This has been
represented as an act of petty spite. In reality, it was
simply the automatic working of the system of Dio-
cletian. The latest winner of imperial dignity nat-
urally took the fourth place. Constantine accepted
the check without demur. He had not spent so many

The Succession of Constantine 51

years by the side of Diocletian and Galerius without
discovering that if it came to war, it was the master
of the best army who was sure to be the winner and
survivor, whether his title were Caesar or Augustus.
Thus, in July, 306, Constantine commenced his
eventful reign as the Caesar of the West, overlord of
Gaul, Spain, and Britain, and commander of the
Army of the Rhine, and, for the next six years,
down to his invasion of Italy in 312, he spent most
of his time in the Gallic provinces, where he gained
the reputation of being a capable soldier and a
generous Prince.

Gaul was slowly recovering from chaos and ruin.
During the anarchy which had preceded the acces-
sion of Diocletian, she had lain at the mercy of the
Germanic tribes across the Rhine. The Roman
watch on the river had been almost abandoned ; the
legions and the garrisons had been so weakened as
to be powerless to keep the invader in check. The
Gallic provinces were, in the striking words of the
Panegyrist, "maddened by their injuries of the years
gone by." * The result had been the peasant rising
of the Bagaudae, ruthlessly suppressed by Maximian
in 285, but the desperate condition of the country
may be inferred from the fact that Diocletian and
Maximian felt compelled to recognise the pretensions
of Carausius in the province of Britain, which, for
some years, was practically severed from the Empire.
And, moreover, the peace of Gaul, which Maximian
laboriously restored, was punctuated by invasion
from the Germans across the Rhine. In the Pane-

Gallias ^riorum temporum inju}-iis cfferatas. Pan., vi. , 8,

52 Constantine

gyric of Mamertinus there occurs a curious passage,
which shows with what eyes the Romans regarded
that river. The orator is eulogising Maximian in his
most fulsome strain for restoring tranquillity, and then
says: " Was there ever an Emperor before our day
who did not congratulate himself that the Gallic
provinces were protected by the Rhine ? When did
the Rhine shrink in its channel after a long spell of
fine weather without making us shiver with fear?
When did it ever swell to a flood without giving us
an extra sense of security ? " * In other words, the
danger of invasion rose and fell with the rising and
falling of the Rhine. But now, continues the Pane-
gyrist, thanks to Maximian, all our fears are gone.
The Rhine may dry up and shrink until it can
scarce roll the smooth pebbles in its limpid shal-
lows, and none will be afraid. As far as I can see be-
yond the Rhine, all is Roman" {Quicguid ultra
Rhenuvt prospicio, Romaniun est). Rarely has a
court rhetorician uttered a more audacious lie.

There was no quality of permanence in the Gallic
peace. Constantius took advantage of a temporary
lull to recover Britain, but in 301 he was again
fighting the invading Germans and Franks, winning
victories which had to be repeated in the following
summer, and making good the dearth of labourers on
the devastated lands of Gaul by the captives he had
taken in battle. There is a remarkable passage
in the Fifth Panegyric in which the author refers
to the long columns of captives which he had seen on
the march in Gaul, men, women, and children on

* Fan. Vet., ii., 7.

The Succession of Constantine 53

their way to the desert regions assigned to them,
there to bring back to fertihty by their labour as
slaves the very countryside which in their freedom
they had pillaged and laid waste. He recalled the
familiar sight of these savage barbarians tamed to
surprising quiescence, and waiting in the public
places of the ^duan cities until they were told off
to their new masters. Gaul had suffered so long
from these roving ruffians from over the Rhine that
the orator broke out into a paean of exultation at
the thought that the once dreaded Chamavan or
Frisian now tilled his estates for him, and that the
vagabond freebooter had become an agricultural
labourer, who drove his stock to the Gallic markets
and cheapened the price of commodities by increasing
the sources of supply.

Full allowance must be made for exaggeration.
The tribes, which are described as having been ex-
tirpated, reappear later on in the same numbers as
before, and there was security only so long as the Em-
peror and his legions were on the spot. When Con-
stantius crossed to Britain on the expedition which
terminated with his death, the Franks took advantage
of his absence to " violate the peace." * The words
would seem to imply that there had been a treaty
between Constantius and the Kings Ascaricus and
Regaisus. They crossed the Rhine and Constantine,
the new Caesar, hastened back from Britain to con-
front them. Where the battle took place is not
known, but both Kings were captured and, together
with a multitude of their followers, flung to the

* Pan., vii., lo.

54 Constantine

wild beasts in the amphitheatre at Treves. Constan-
tine, who prided himself upon his clemency to a
Roman foe, whose sensitive soul was harrowed
when even a wicked enemy perished,* inflicted a fear-
ful punishment.

" Those slain in battle were beyond numbers ; very
many more were taken prisoners. All their flocks were
carried off or butchered; all their villages burnt with
fire ; all their young men, who were too treacherous to
be admitted into the Roman army, and too brutal to
act as slaves, were thrown to the wild beasts, and
fatigued the ravening creatures because there were so
many of them to kill."t

Those atrocious sentences — written in praise,
not in condemnation— assuredly throw some light
upon the " perpetual hatreds and inextinguishable
rage":j: of the Franks. The common herd, says the
rhetorician, may be slaughtered by the hundred
without their becoming aware of the slaughter; it
saves time and trouble to slay the leaders of an
enemy whom you wish to conquer.§ The effect for
the moment was decisive, even if we refuse to be-
lieve that the castles and strong places, set at inter-
vals along the banks of the Rhine, were henceforth
regarded rather as ornaments to the frontier than as
a source of protection. The bridge, too, which
Constantine built at Cologne, was likewise built for

* Gravate apud anitinim tmitn etiam niali pereiint. — Pan., x., 8.
f Pati., vii., 12.

X Odia perpetua et inexpiabiles iras.

§ Compendium est devincendorum hostium duces sustulisse. — Pan.,
vii., II.

The Succession of Constantine 55

business and not, as the orator suggests, for the
glory of the Empire and the beauty of the land-
scape. When we read of the war galleys, which
ceaselessly patrolled the waters of the Rhine, and
of the soldiery stationed along its banks from source
to mouth,* we may judge how anxiously the watch
was kept, how nervously alert the Caesar or Augustus
of the West required to be to guard the frontier,
and how profound a respect he entertained for the
free German whom he called barbarian.

* Pati., vii., i"^.

CHAPTER IV

CONSTANTINE AND HIS COLLEAGUES

WHILE Constantine thus peacefully succeeded
his father in the command of Gaul, Spain,
and Britain, Italy was the scene of continued dis-
turbance and of a successful usurpation. We have
seen how Severus, an officer of the eastern army
and a trusted friend of Galerius, had been chosen to
take over the command which Maximian so unwill-
ingly laid down at Milan. He was proclaimed Caesar,
with Italy and Africa for his portion, and the admin-
istration passed into his hands. But he preferred,
apparently, to remain on the lUyrian border rather
than shew himself in Rome, and, in his absence,
Maxentius, a son of Maximian, took the opportunity
of claiming the heritage of which he considered him-
self to have been robbed.

No single historian has had a good word to say for
Maxentius, who is described by Lactantius as "a
man of depraved mind, so consumed with pride
and stubbornness that he paid no deference or re-
spect either to his father or his father-in-law and was
in consequence hated by both." * He had married

* De Mort. Per sec, c. i8.

Constantine and His Colleagues 57

a daughter of Galerius, but had been thrust on one
side at the choosing of the new Caesars, and Severus
and Maximin Daza had been preferred to him. He
owed his elevation to the purple to a successful mu-
tiny on the part of the Praetorians at Rome, and to
the general discontent of the Roman population.
It is evident that Rome watched with anger and
jealousy the loss of her old exclusive and imperial
position. The Emperors no longer resided on the
Palatine, and ignored and disdained the city on the
Tiber. Diocletian had preferred Nicomedia ; Max-
imian had fixed his Court at Milan, The imperial
trappings at Rome were becoming a mockery.
When, in addition to neglect, it was ordered that
Italy should no longer be exempt from the census,
and that the sacred Saturnian soil should submit to
the exactions of the tax-gatherer, public opinion was
ripe for revolt.

Lactantius affects to see in the extension of the
census to Rome a crowning example of Galerius's
rapacity. He speaks of the Emperor "devouring
the whole world," and declares that his madness
carried him to such outrageous lengths that he
would not suffer even the Roman people to escape
bondage. But Galerius was thoroughly justified in
the step he took. The immunity of Rome from
taxation had been a monstrous piece of fiscal injus-
tice to the rest of the world, designed merely to
flatter the pride and purse of the Roman citizen.
Galerius, moreover, had disbanded some of the Prae-
torians— who were at once the Household Troops
and the permanent garrison of the capital ; but now

58 Constantine

that the Emperor and the Court had quitted Rome,
their razson d'etre was gone. The vast expenditure
on their pay and their barracks was money thrown
away. Galerius, therefore, abohshed the Praetorian
camps. Such an act would give clear warning that
the absence of the Emperors was not merely tempo-
rary, but permanent, that the shifting of the capital
had been due not merely to personal predilections,
but to abiding political reasons.

That the Praetorians themselves received the order
with sullen anger may well be understood. For three
centuries they had been the corps (Tdite of the
Roman army, enjoying special pay and special ad-
vantages. They had made and unmade Emperors.
They had repeatedly held the fortunes of the Em-
pire in their hands. The traditions of their regiments
fostered pride and arrogance, for they had seen little
active service in their long history, and the severest
conflicts they had had to face were tumults in the im-
perial city. Now their privileges were destroyed by
a stroke of the pen, and needing but little insti-
gation to rebellion, they offered the purple to Max-
entius, who gladly accepted it. Nor, it is said, were
the people unfavourable to his cause, for Maxentius's
agents had already been busy among them, and so,
after Abellius, the praefectof the city, had been mur-
dered, Maxentius made himself master of Rome
without a struggle. His position, however, was
very precarious. He had practically no army and
he knew that neither Galerius nor Severus would
recognise his pretensions. The latter had already
taken over the command of the armies of Maximian,

Constantine and His Colleagues 59

and was the nominee of Galerius, who at once incited
his colleague to march upon Rome. Maxentius saw
that his only chance of success was to corrupt his
father's old legions, and with this object in view he
sent a purple robe to Maximian, urging him to
resume his place and title of Augustus. Maximian
agreed with alacrity. He had been spending his
enforced leisure not in amateur gardening and con-
tentment, like his colleague at Salona, but in his
Campanian villa, chafing at his lost dignity. Hence
he eagerly responded to the summons of his son and
resumed the purple, not so much as Maxentius's sup-
porter, but as the senior acting Augustus.

Severus marched straight down the Italian penin-
sula and laid siege to Rome, only to find himself
deserted by his soldiers. According to Zosimus, the
troops which first played him false were a Moorish
contingent fresh from Africa. Then, when the
treachery spread, Severus hastily retired on Ra-
venna, where he could maintain touch with Galerius
in Illyria, and was there besieged by Maximian and
Maxentius. Doubtless, if he had waited, Galerius
would have sent him reinforcements or come in
person to his assistance, for his own prestige was
deeply involved in that of Severus. But the latter
seems to have allowed himself to be enticed out of
his strong refuge by the plausible overtures of his
rivals. He set out for Rome, prepared to resign
the throne on condition of receiving honourable
treatment, but on reaching a spot named " The
Three Taverns," on the Appian Road, he was seized
and thrown into chains. The only consideration he

6o Constantine

received from his captors was that they allowed him
to choose his own way of relieving them of his
presence. He opened his veins. So gentle a death
in those violent times was considered " good." *

This victory over Severus, gained with such as-
tonishing ease, speaks well for the popularity of
Maximian with his old soldiers. Galerius prepared
to avenge the defeat and murder of his friend and
invaded Italy at the head of a large army. He
too, like Severus, marched down the peninsula, but
he got no nearer to Rome than Narnia, sixty miles
distant. There he halted, despite the fact that no
opposition was being offered to his advance. Why ?
The reason is undoubtedly to be found in the at-
titude of Constantine, who had mobilised his army
upon the Gallic frontier and was waiting on events.
There was no love lost between Constantine and
Galerius. If Constantine crossed the Alps and
1 followed down on the track of Galerius, the latter
'would find himself between two fires. Galerius is
represented by Zosimus as being suspicious of the
loyalty of his troops ; it is more probable that he
decided to retreat as soon as he heard that Constan-
tine had thrown in his lot with Maximian and
Maxentius. Maximian had been sedulously trying
to secure alliances for himself and his son. He had
made overtures to the recluse of Salona. But
Diocletian had turned a deaf ear. Even if he had
hankered after power again, he would hardly have
declared himself in opposition to the ruler of Illyria,

* Nihil aliud i?npetravit 7iisi bonam mortem, — De Mort, Per sec,
c. 26.

Constantine and His Colleagues 6i

while he was dwelling within reach of Galerius.
With Constantine, however, Maximian had better
success. He gave him his daughter Fausta in mar-
riage and incited him to attack Galerius, who at once
drew his troops off into Illyria, after laying waste
the Transpadane region with fire and sword.

Some very curious stories are told in connection
with this expedition of Galerius. Lactantius de-
clares that he invaded Italy with the intention of
extinguishing the Senate and butchering the people
of Rome ; that he found the gates of all the cities
shut against him ; and discovered that he had not
brought suf^cient troops with him to attempt a
siege of the capital. " He had never seen Rome,"
says Lactantius naively, " and thought it was not
much bigger than the cities with which he was fa-
miliar." Galerius was, it is true, a rough soldier of
the camp, but it is ludicrous to suppose that he was
not fully cognisant of the topography and the for-
tifications of Rome. Then we are told that some
of the legions were afBicted with scruples at the
idea of being called to fight for a father-in-law
against his son-in-law — as though there were pro-
hibited degrees in hatreds — and shrank as Roman
soldiers from the thought of moving to the assault
of Rome. And, as a finishing touch to this most
extraordinary canvas, Lactantius paints into it the
figure of Galerius kneeling at the feet of his soldiers,
praying them not to betray him, and offering them
large rewards. We do not recognise Galerius in
such a guise. Again, an unknown historian, of
whose work only a few fragments survive, says that

62 Constantine

when Galerius reached Narnia he opened communi-
cations with Maximian and proposed to treat for
peace, but that his overtures were contemptuously
spurned. This does not violate the probabilities
like the reckless malevolence of Lactantius, but,
after all, the simplest explanation is the one which
we have given above. Galerius halted and then
retired when he heard that Constantine had come to
an understanding with Maximian, had married his
daughter, and was waiting and watching on the
Gallic border. No pursuit seems to have been
attempted.

Maximian and Maxentius were thus left in undis-
puted possession of Italy. They were clearly in
alliance with Constantine, but their relations with
one another were exceedingly anomalous. Both are
represented in equally odious colours. Eutropius
describes the father as " embittered and brutal, faith-
less, troublesome, and utterly devoid of good man-
ners " ; Aurelius Victor says of the son that no one
ever Hked him, not even his own father. Indeed,
the scandal-mongers of the day denied the parentage
of Maxentius and said that he was the son of some
low-born Syrian and had been foisted upon Max-
imian by his wife as her own child. Public opinion,
however, was inclined to throw the blame of the
rupture, which speedily took place between Max-
imian and Maxentius, upon the older man, who is
depicted as a restless and mischievous intriguer.
In Rome, at any rate, the army looked to the son
as its chief, and as there was but one army, there
was no room for two Emperors. Lactantius tells

BUST OF MAXIMIAN AT ROME.

PHOTOGRAPH BY ALINARI.

Constantine and His Colleagues 63

the story that Maximian called a great mass meeting
of citizens and soldiers, dilated at length upon the
evils of the situation, and then, turning to his son,
declared that he was the cause of all the trouble and
snatched the purple from his shoulders. But Max-
imian had the mortification of seeing Maxentius shel-
tered instead of slaughtered by the soldiers, and it
was he himself who was driven with ignominy from
the city, like a second Tarquin the Proud.

Whether these circumstantial details are to be ac-
cepted or not, there is no doubt as to the sequel.
Maximian was expelled from Rome and Italy, and
began a series of wanderings which were only to end
with his death. He seems first of all to have fled
into Gaul and thrown himself upon the protection of
his son-in-law, Constantine, and then to have opened
up negotiations with Galerius, who must naturally
have desired to establish some -modus vivendi be-
tween all the rival Emperors. Galerius called a
conference at Carnuntum on the Danube and invited
the presence of Diocletian. Maximian was there;
so too was Licinius, an old companion-in-arms of
Galerius and his most trusted lieutenant. Of the
debates which took place no word has survived.
But the fact that Diocletian was invited to attend is
clear proof that Galerius regarded him -with the pro-
found respect that was due to the senior Augustus
and the founder of the system which had broken
down so badly. Galerius wished the old man to
suggest a way out of the impasse which had been
reached, to devise some plan whereby his dilapidated
fabric might still be patched up. Even in his

64 Constantine

retirement the practical wisdom of Diocletian was
gladly recognised, and three years later we find one
of the Panegyrists sounding his praises in the pre-
sence of Constantine. This shews that Diocletian
and Constantine were on friendly terms, else Dio-
cletian would only have been mentioned with abuse,
or would have been passed over in significant silence.
The passage deserves quotation :

" That divine statesman, who was the first to share his
Empire with others and the first to lay it down, does not
regret the step he took, nor thinks that he has lost what
he voluntarily resigned; nay, he is truly blessed and
happy, since, even in his retirement, such mighty Princes
as you offer him the protection of your deep respect.
He is upheld by a multiplicity of Empires; he rejoices
in the cover of your shade." *

Diocletian would not have been called to Carnun-
tum, or, if called, he would scarcely have undertaken
so tedious a journey, had there not been affairs of
the highest moment to be discussed. We know of
only one certain result of this strange council of Em-
perors. It is that a new Augustus was created by
Galerius without passing through the intermediate
stage of being a Caesar. He was found in Licinius,
to whom was assigned the administration of Illyria
with the command of the Danubian legions, and the
status of second rank in the hierarchy of the Augusti,
or rather of the Augusti in active life. Galerius, we
may infer, was sensible of the approaching break-

* Sed et ilk multijiigo fultus imperio et vestro Icetus tegitur um'
braculo. — Pan. Vet., vii., 15.

Constantine and His Colleagues 65

down of his health and wished his friend Licinius to
be ready to step into his place. Apparently, a genu-
ine attempt was made to restore to something like
its old position the system of Diocletian. Perhaps
as reasonable a supposition as any is that it was
decided at the conference that Diocletian and Max-
imian should again be relegated to the ranks of
retired Augusti, that Galerius and Licinius should
be the two active Augusti, and Constantine and
Maximin the two Caesars. Maximian had unques-
tionably gone to Carnuntum with the hope of fishing
in troubled waters and Lactantius* even attributes
to him a wild scheme for assassinating Galerius. It
is, at any rate, certain that he left the conference in
a fury of disappointment. The ambitious and rest-
less old man had received no encouragement to his
hopes of again being supreme over part of the
Empire.

But what then of Maxentius, who was in possession
of Italy and Africa ? If the theory we have pro-
pounded be right, he must have been studiously
ignored and treated as a usurper, to be thrown out —
just as Carausius had been — at a favourable oppor--
tunity. There is a passage in Lactantius which
seems to corroborate this suggestion. That author
says that Maximin Daza, the Caesar of Egypt and
Syria and the old protege of Galerius, heard with
anger that Licinius had been promoted over his
head to be Augustus and hold the second place in
the charmed circle of Emperors. He sent angry re-
monstrances ; Galerius returned a soft answer. Max-

* De Mort. Per sec, c, 29.
5

66 Constantine

imin assumed an even more aggressive bearing (/^^Z/zV
aiidacius cormia), urged more peremptorily than ever
his superior right, and spurned Galerius's entreaties
and commands. Then,— Lactantius goes on to say,
— overborne by Maximin's stubborn obstinacy, Gal-
erius offered a compromise, by naming himself and
Licinius as Augusti and Maximin and Constantine
as Sons of the Augusti, instead of simple Caesars.

But Maximin was obdurate and wrote saying that
his soldiers had taken the law into their own hands
and had already saluted him as Augustus. Galerius
therefore, in the face of the accomplished fact, gave
way and recognised not only Maximin but Constan-
tine also as full Augusti. Such is the story of Lao;_
tantius. It will be noted that the name of Maxentius
is not mentioned. He is treated as non-existent.
There need be no surprise that nothing is said of Dio-
cletian and Maximian, for they were ex-Augusti, so to
speak, though still bearing the courtesy title. But
if Maxentius had been recognised as one of the
" Imperial Brothers " at the conference of Carnun-
tum, the omission of his name by Lactantius is ex-
ceedingly strange. From his account we should
judge that the poHcy decided upon at Carnuntum
was to restore the fourfold system of Diocletian in
the persons of Galerius, Licinius, Maximin, and Con-
stantine, taking precedence in the order named.
When Maximin refused to be content with his old
title of Caesar or to accept the new one of Son
of Augustus, and insisted on being acknowledged
as Augustus, the system broke down anew. At the
beginning of 308, there were no fewer than seven

Constantine and His Colleagues 67

who bore the name of Augustus. And of these
Diocletian alone had outlived his ambitions.

Maximian returned to Gaul, where he received
cordial welcome from Constantine. He had resigned ;
his pretensions not — as says Lactantius, cognisant as
ever of the secret motives of his enemies — that he
might the more easily deceive Constantine, but be-
cause it had been so decided at Carnuntum. He
was thus a private citizen once more ; he had neither
army, nor official status, nothing beyond the prestige
attaching to one who had, so to speak, " passed the
chair." There can be little doubt that his second
resignation was as reluctant as the first, but as he
was at open enmity with his son, Maxentius, he had
only Constantine to look to for protection and the
means of livelihood. And Constantine, according
to the author of the Seventh Panegyric, gave him all
the honours due to his exalted rank. He assigned
to him the place of honour on his right hand ; put at
his disposal the stables of the palace ; and ordered
his servants to pay to Maximian the same deference
that they paid to himself. The orator declares that
the gossip of the day spoke of Constantine as wear-
ing the robe of office, while Maximian wielded its
powers. Evidently Constantine had no fear that
Maximian would play him false.

His confidence, however, soon received a rude
shock. The Franks were restless and threatened
invasion. Constantine marched north with his
army, leaving Maximian at Aries. He did not take
his entire forces with him, for a considerable number
remained in the south of Gaul — no doubt to guard

68 Constantine

the frontier against danger from Maxentius, though
Lactantius explains it otherwise. Maximian waited
till sufficient time had elapsed for Constantine to
be well across the Rhine, and then began to spread
rumours of his having been defeated and slain in
battle. For the third time, therefore, he assumed
the purple, seized the State treasuries, and took
command of the legions, offering them a large dona-
tive, and appealing to their old loyalty. The usurp-
ation was entirely successful for the moment, but
when Constantine heard of the treachery he hurried
back, leaving the affairs of the frontier to settle
themselves.

Constantine knew the military value of mobility,
and his soldiers eagerly made his quarrel their own.
There is an amusing passage in the Seventh Pane-
gyric * in which the orator says that the troops
shewed their devotion by refusing the offer of spe-
cial travelling-money {viatica) on the ground that it
would hamper them on the march. Their generous
pay, they said, was more than sufficient, though no
Roman army before this time had ever been known
to refuse money. Then he describes how they
marched from the Rhine to the Aar without rest,
yet with unwearied bodies ; how at Chalons (Cabillo-
num) they were placed on board river boats, but
found the current too sluggish for their impetuous
eagerness to come to conclusions with the traitor,
and cried out that they were standing still ; and
how, even when they entered the rapid current of
the Rhone, its pace scarcely satisfied their ardour,

*C. i8.

Constantine and His Colleagues 69

Such, according to the Court rhetorician, was the
enthusiasm of the soldiers for their young leader.
When, at length, Aries was reached, it was found
that Maximian had fled to Marseilles and had shut
himself up within that strongly fortified town. His
power had crumbled away. The legions, which had
sworn allegiance to him, withdrew it again as soon as
they found that he had lied to them of Constantine's
death ; even the soldiers he had with him in Mar-
seilles only waited for the appearance of Constan-
tine before the walls to open the gates. The picture
which Lactantius draws of Constantine reproaching
Maximian for his ingratitude while the latter — from
the summit of the wall — heaps curses on his head
{jngerebat maledicta de imiris), or the companion
picture of the anonymous rhetorician, who shews us
the scaling ladders falling short of the top of the
battlements and the devoted soldiers climbing up on
their comrades' backs, are vivid but unconvincing.
What emerges from their doubtful narratives is that
Marseilles was captured without a siege, and that
Maximian fell into the hands of his justly angry
son-in-law, who stripped him of his titles but vouch-
safed to him his life.

Was Maximian in league with his son, Maxentius,
in this usurpation ? Had they made up their old
quarrel in order to turn their united weapons
against Constantine ? There were those who
thought so at the time, as Lactantius says, * the
theory being that the old man only pretended
violent enmity towards his son in order to carry out

*De Mort. Per sec, c. 43.

70 Constantine

his treacherous designs against Constantine and the
other Emperors.

Lactantius himself denies this supposition bluntly
{Sed id falsum fuif) and then goes on to say* that
Maximian's real motive was to get rid both of
Maxentius and the rest, and restore Diocletian and
himself to power. Even for Lactantius, this is an
extraordinarily wild theory. It runs counter to all
that we know of Diocletian's wishes during his
retirement, and it speaks of the " extinction of
Maxentius and the rest" as though it only needed
an order to a centurion and the deed was done. It
is much more probable that Maximian had actually
re-entered into negotiations with Maxentius and
had offered, as the price of reconciliation, the sup-
port of the legions which he had treacherously won
from Constantine. The impetuous haste with which
Constantine flew back from the Rhine indicates
that the crisis was one of extreme gravity.

Maximian did not long survive his degradation.
That he died a violent death is certain ; the circum-
stances attending it are in doubt. Lactantius gives
a minute narrative which would carry greater con-
viction if the details had not been so manifestly
borrowed from the chronicles of the East. He says
that Maximian, tiring of his humiliating position,
engaged in new plots against Constantine, and
tempted Fausta, his daughter, to betray her hus-
band by the promise of a worthier spouse. Her
part in the conspiracy was to secure the removal of

* Na7n id propositi habebat, til et filio et ceteris extinctis se ac Dio-
cletianum restitueret in regftwn.

FRAGMENT OF 4TH CENTURY EGYPTIAN POTTERY BOWL

IG AN EARLY PORTRAIT OF CHRIST, WITH BUSTS OF THE EMPEROR CONSTANTINE
AND THE EMPRESS FAUSTA. (fROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM.)

Constantine and His Colleagues 71

the guards from Constantine's sleeping apartment.
Fausta laid the whole scheme before her husband,
who ordered one of his eunuchs to sleep in the royal
chamber. Maximian, rising in the dead of night,
told the sentries that he had dreamed an important
dream which he wished at once to communicate to
his son-in-law and thus gained entrance to the room.
Drawing his sword, he cut off the eunuch's head
and rushed out boasting that he had slain Con-
stantine— only to be confronted by Constantine him-
self at the head of a troop of armed men. The
corpse was brought out ; the self-convicted mur-
derer stood " speechless as Marpesian flint." Con-
stantine upbraided him with his treachery, gave him
permission to choose his own mode of dying, and
Maximian hanged himself, " drawing " — as Virgil
had said — " from the lofty beam the noose of
shameful death."

Such is the story of Lactantius ; it could scarcely
be more circumstantial. But if this had been the
manner of Maximian's death, it is hardly possible
that the other historians would have passed it by
in silence. Eusebius, in his Ecclesiastical History,
simply says that Maximian strangled himself; Au-
relius Victor that he justly perished {Jure perierat).
The author of the Seventh Panegyric declares that,
though Constantine offered him his life, Maximian
deemed himself unworthy of the boon and com-
mitted suicide.* Eutropius, evidently borrowing
from Lactantius, remarks that Maximian paid the

*Necse dignum vita judicavit, cum per te liceret ut viveret. — Pan,
Vet., vii., 20.

Constantine

penalty for his crimes. There is little doubt, there-
fore, that Constantine ordered his execution and
gave him choice of death, just as Maxentius had
given similar choice to Severus. Officially it would
be announced that Maximian had committed sui-
cide. At the time, public opinion was shocked by
the manner of his death, though it was generally
conceded that his life was justly forfeit.

CHAPTER V

THE INVASION OF ITALY

THE tragic end of his old colleague must have
raised many disquieting thoughts in the mind
of Diocletian, already beginning to be anxious lest
his successors should think that he was living too
long. While Galerius flourished he was sure of a
protector, but Galerius died in 311. In the eigh-
teenth year of his rule he had been stricken with
an incurable and loathsome malady, into the de-
tails of which Lactantius enters with a morbid but
lively enjoyment, affecting to see in the torture
of the dying Emperor the visitation of an angry
Providence. He describes minutely the progress
of the cancer and the " appalling odour of the fes-
tering wound which spread not only through the
palace but through the city." He shews us the
unhappy patient raising piercing cries and calling
for mercy from the God of the Christians whom he
had persecuted, vowing under the stress of physi-
cal anguish that he would make reparation ; and,
finally, when at the very point of death (^jam
deficiens), dictating the edict which stayed the per-
secution and gave the Christians full Hberty to
73

74 Constantine

worship in their own way. It will be more con-
venient to discuss in another place this remarkable
document, the forerunner, so to speak, of the
famous Edict of Milan. It was promulgated at
Nicomedia on the thirtieth of April, 311, and a
few days later Galerius's torments were mercifully
ended by death.

The death of Galerius gave another blow to the
already tottering system of Diocletian. It had been
his intention to retire, as Diocletian had done, at
the end of his twentieth year of sovereignty, and
make way for a younger man, and there can be
little doubt that he would have been as good as his
word. Galerius has not received fair treatment at
the hands of posterity. Lactantius, his bitter enemy,
describes him as a violent ruffian and a hectoring
bully, an object of terror and fear to all around
him in word, deed, and aspect. Lactantius belittles
the importance of his victory over Narses, the
Persian King, by saying that the Persian army
marched encumbered with baggage and that victory
was easily won. He makes Galerius the leading
spirit of the Persecution ; represents him as having
goaded Diocletian into signing the fatal edicts ;
accuses him of having fired the palace at Nicomedia
in order to work on the terrors of his chief ; charges
him with having invented new and horrible tortures;
and declares that he never dined or supped without
whetting his appetite with the sight of human blood.
No one would gather from Lactantius that Galerius
was a fine soldier, a hard-working and capable
Emperor, and a loyal successor to a great political

The Invasion of Italy 75

chief. Eutropius does him no more than justice
when he describes him as a man of high principle
and a consummate general.* AureHus Victor fills in
the light and shade. Galerius was, he says, a Prince
worthy of all praise ; just if unpolished and un-
tutored ; of handsome presence ; and an accom-
plished and fortunate general. He had risen from
the ranks ; in his young days he had been a herd
boy, and the name of Armentarins clung to him
through life. This rough and ready Pannonian
spent too energetic and busy a career to have time
for culture. He came from a province where, in the
forceful phrase of one of the Panegyrists, " life was
all hard knocks and fighting." f

Galerius had already nominated Licinius as his
successor, but Licinius was far away in Pannonia
and did not cross over at once into Asia to take
command of Galerius's army — no doubt because it
was not safe for him to leave his post. In the
meantime, Maximin Daza, the Augustus of Syria
and Egypt, had been preparing to march on Nico-
media as soon as Galerius breathed his last, for he
claimed, as we have seen, that by seniority of rule
he had a better right than Licinius to the title
of senior Augustus. While, therefore, Licinius re-
mained in Europe, Maximin Daza advanced from
Syria across the Taurus and entered Bithynia,
where, to curry favour with the people, he abolished
the census. It was expected that the two Emperors

* Vir et probe moratus et egregius re militari.
\ In quibus omnis vita militia est.

76 Constantine

would fight out their quarrel, but an accommoda-
tion was arrived at, and they agreed that the Hel-
lespont should form the boundary between them.
Maximin, by his promptitude, had thus materially
increased his sovereignty, and, at the beginning of
312, the eastern half of the Empire was divided
between Licinius and Maximin Daza, while Con-
stantine ruled in Great Britain, Spain, and Gaul, and
Maxentius was master of Italy and Africa.

Whether or not his position had been recognised
by the other Emperors at the conference of Carnun-
tum, Maxentius had remained in undisturbed posses-
sion of Italy since the hurried retreat of the invading
army of Galerius. In Africa, indeed, a general named
Alexander, who, according to Zosimus, was a Phry-
gian by descent, and timid and advanced in years,
raised the standard of revolt. Maxentius commis-
sioned one of his lieutenants to attack the usurper
and Alexander was captured and strangled. There
would have been nothing to distinguish this insur-
rection from any other, had it not been for the ruth-
less severity with which the African cities were
treated by the conqueror. Carthage and Cirta were
pillaged and sacked; the countryside was laid deso-
late ; many of the leading citizens were executed ;
still more were reduced to beggary. The ruin of
Africa was so complete that it excited against Max-
entius the public opinion of the Roman world. He
had begun his reign, as will be remembered, as the
special champion of the Praetorians and of the priv-
ileges of Rome, but he soon lost his early popularity,
and rapidly developed into a cruel and bloodthirsty

The Invasion of Italy n

tyrant. His profligacy was shameless and excessive,
even for those Hcentious times. Eusebius tells the
story of how Sophronia, the Christian wife of the
city praefect, stabbed herself in order to escape his
embraces, when the imperial messengers came to
summon her to the palace.

If Maxentius had been accused of all the vices only
on the authority of the Christian authors and the
ofificial panegyrists of Constantine, their statements
might have been received with some suspicion — for
a fallen Roman Emperor had no friends. Zosimus,
however, is almost as severe upon him as Lactantius,
and Julian, in the Banquet of the Ccesars, excludes
him from the feast as one utterly unworthy of a
place in honourable society. According to Aurelius
Victor, he was the first to start the practice of exact-
ing from the senators large sums of money in the
guise of free gifts {inunerum specie) on the flimsiest
pretexts of public necessity, or as payment for the
bestowal of office or civil distinction. Moreover,
knowing that, sooner or later, he would find himself
at war with one or other of his brother Augusti,
Maxentius amassed great stores of corn and wealth
and took no heed of a morrow which he knew that
he might not live to witness. He despoiled the
temples, — says the author of the Ninth Panegyric, —
butchered the Senate, and starved the people of
Rome. The Praetorians— who had placed and kept
him on the throne— ruled the city. Zosimus tells
the curious story of how, in the course of a great fire
in Rome, the Temple of Fortune was burned down
and one of the soldiers looking on spoke blasphemous

78 Constantine

and disrespectful words of the goddess. Immedi-
ately the mob attacked him. His comrades went to
his assistance and a serious riot ensued, during which
the Praetorians would have massacred the citizens
had they not been with difficulty restrained. All
the authorities, indeed, agree that a perfect reign of
terror prevailed at Rome after Maxentius's victory
over Alexander in Africa, while Maxentius himself is
depicted as a second Commodus or Nero.

One of the most vivid pictures of the tyrant is
given in the Panegyric already quoted. The orator
speaks of Maxentius as a " stupid and worthless
wild-beast" {stultiimet ncqiiam animal) skulking for
ever within the walls of the palace and not daring to
leave the precincts. Fancy, he exclaims, an indoor
Emperor, who considers that he has made a journey
and achieved an expedition if he has so much as vis-
ited the Gardens of Sallust ! Whenever he addressed
his soldiers, he would boast that, though he had col-
leagues in the Empire, he alone was the real Em-
peror ; for he ruled while they kept the frontiers
safe and did his fighting for him. And then he
would dismiss them with the three words: '' Frui-
mini ! Dissipate ! Prodigite ! " Such an invitation
to drunkenness, riot, and debauch would not be un-
welcome to the swaggering Praetorians and to the
numerous bands of mercenaries which Maxentius
had collected from all parts of the world.

We ought not, perhaps, to take this scathing in-
vective quite literally. For all his vices, Maxentius
was probably not quite the hopeless debauchee he
is represented to have been. It is at least worth

The Invasion of Italy 79

remark that it was this Emperor, of whom no one has
a charitable word to say, who restored to the Christ-
ians at Rome the church buildings and property
which had been confiscated to the State by the
edicts of Diocletian and Galerius. Neither Eusebius
nor Lactantius mentions this, but the fact is clear
from a passage in St. Augustine, who says that the
first act of the Roman Christians on regaining pos-
session of their cemetery was to bring back the body
of Bishop Eusebius, who had died in exile in Sicily.
Nor did Maxentius's political attitude towards the
other August! betray indications of incompetence or
want of will. He was ambitious — a trait common
to most Roman Emperors and certainly shared by
all his colleagues. There was no cohesion among
the four Augusti ; there was no one much superior
to the others in influence and prestige. Constan-
tine and Maxentius feared and suspected each other
in the West, just as Licinius and Maximin Daza
feared and suspected each other in the East. When
the two latter agreed that the Hellespont should di-
vide their territories, Licinius, who had lost Asia
Minor by the bargain, made overtures of alliance to
Constantine. It was arranged that Licinius should
marry Constantia, the sister of the Augustus of
Gaul. Naturally, therefore, Maximin Daza turned
towards Maxentius and sent envoys asking for alli-
ance and friendship. Lactantius adds the curious
phrase that Maximin's letter was couched in a tone
of familiarity * and says that Maxentius was as eager

Scribii etiam fatniliariter.

8o Constantine

to accept as Maximin had been to offer. He hailed
it, we are told, as a god-sent help, for he had already-
declared war against Constantine on the pretext of
avenging his father's murder.

The outbreak of this war, which was fraught with
such momentous consequences to the whole course
of civilisation, found the Empire strangely divided.
The Emperor of Italy and Africa was allied with the
Emperor of Egypt, Syria, and Asia Minor, against
the rulers of the armies of the Danube and the
Rhine. We shall see that the alliance was — at any
rate, in result — defensive rather than offensive.
Licinius and Maximin never moved ; they simply
neutralised one another, though the advantage clearly
lay with Constantine and Licinius, for Maxentius
was absolutely isolated, so far as receiving help on
the landward side was concerned. We need not
look far to find the real cause of quarrel between
Constantine and Maxentius, whatever pretexts were
assigned. Maxentius would never have risked his
Empire for the sake of a father whom he detested ;
nor would Constantine have jeopardised his throne
in order to avenge an insult. Each aspired to rule
over the entire West ; neither would acquiesce in
the pretensions of the other. Both had been actively
preparing for a struggle which became inevitable
when neither took any radical steps to avoid it.
We have already seen that Constantine kept the
larger part of the army of Gaul stationed in the
south near Arelate and Lugdunum, in order to
watch the Alpine passes; we shall find that Maxen-
tius had also posted his main armies in the north

The Invasion of Italy 8i

of Italy from Susa on the one side, where he was
threatened by Constantine, to Venice on the other,
where he was on guard against Licinius. There is
a curious reference in one of the authorities to a
plan formed by Maxentius of invading Gaul through
Rhaetia, — no doubt because Constantine had made
the Alpine passes practically unassailable, — while
Lactantius tells us that he had drawn every avail-
able man from Africa to swell his armies in Italy,

Constantine acted with the extreme rapidity for
which he was already famous. He hurried his army
down from the Rhine, and was through the passes
and attacking the walled city of Susa before Max-
entius had certain knowledge of his movements.
That he was embarking on an exceedingly hazardous
expedition seems to have been recognised by him-
self and his captains. The author of the Ninth
Panegyric says quite bluntly that his principal ofifi-
cers not only muttered their fears in secret, but ex-
pressed them openly,* and adds that his councillors
and haruspices warned him to desist. A similar
campaign had cost Severus his life and had been
found too hazardous even by Galerius. Superiority
of numbers lay not with him, but with his rival.
Constantine was gravely handicapped by the fact
that he had to safeguard the Rhine behind him
against the Germanic tribes, which he knew would
seize the first opportunity to pass the river. Zosi-
mus gives a detailed account f of the numbers

* Non solum tacite mussantibus sed eteiam aperte timeniibus. —
Fan. Vet., ix., 2.
\ Zosimus, ii., 15.
6

82 Constantine

which the rivals placed in the field. Maxentius, he
says, had 170,000 foot and 18,000 horse under his
command, including 80,000 levies from Rome and
Italy, and 40,000 from Carthage and Africa. Con-
stantine, on the other hand, even after vigorous re-
cruiting in Britain and Gaul, could only muster
90,000 foot and 8000 horse. The author of the
Ninth Panegyric, in a casual phrase, says that Con-
stantine could hardly employ a fourth of his Gallic
army against the 100,000 men in the ranks of Max-
entius, on account of the dangers of the Rhine.
Ancient authorities, however, are never trustworthy
where numbers are concerned ; we only know that
Maxentius had by far the larger force, and that
Constantine's army of invasion was probably under
40,000 strong. Whether the numerical supremacy
of the former was not counterbalanced by the neces-
sity under which Maxentius laboured of guarding
against Licinius, is a question to which the histori-
ans have paid no heed.

Marching along the chief military highroad from
Lugdunum to Italy, which crossed the Alps at Mont
Cenis, Constantine suddenly appeared before the
walls of Susa, a strongly garrisoned post, and took
it by storm, escalading the walls and burning the
gates. The town caught fire ; Constantine set his
soldiers to put out the flames, a more difficult task,
says Nazarius, than had been the actual assault.
From Susa the victor advanced to Turin, which
opened its gates to him after the cavalry of Max-
entius had been routed in the plains. These were
troops clad in ponderous but cleverly jointed ar-

The Invasion of Italy 83

mour, and the weight of their onslaught was calcu-
lated to crush either horse or foot upon which it
was directed. But Constantine disposed his forces
so as to avoid their charge and render their weight
useless, and when these horsemen fled for shelter to
Turin they found the gates closed against them and
perished almost to a man. Milan, by far the most
important city in the Transpadane region, next re-
ceived Constantine, who entered amid the plaudits
of the citizens, and charmed the eyes of the Milan-
ese ladies, says the Panegyrist, without causing them
anxieties for their virtue. Milan, indeed, welcomed
him with open arms ; other cities sent deputations
similar to the one which, according to the epitomist
Zonaras, had already reached him from Rome itself,
praying him to come as its liberator. It seemed,
indeed, that he had already won not only the Trans-
padane region, but Rome itself.*

Constantine, however, had still to meet and over-
throw the chief armies of Maxentius in the north of
Italy. These were under the command of Ruricius
Pompeianus, a general as stubborn as he was loyal,
and of well-tried capacity. Pompeianus held Verona
in force. He had thrown out a large body of cavalry
towards Brescia to reconnoitre and check Constan-
tine's advance, but these were routed with some
slaughter and retired in confusion. If we may in-
terpret the presence of Pompeianus at Verona as
indicating that Maxentius had feared attack by
Licinius more than by Constantine, this would

Pan. Vet., ix., 7.

84 Constantine

explain the comparative absence of troops in Lom-
bardy and the concentration in Venetia, though it is
strange that we do not hear of Licinius taking any
steps to assist his ally. Verona was a strongly forti-
fied city resting upon the Adige, which encircled its
walls for three-quarters of their circumference. Con-
stantine managed to effect a crossing at some
distance from the city and laid siege in regular
fashion. Pompeianus tried several ineffectual sor-
ties, and then, secretly escaping through the lines,
he brought up the rest of his army to offer pitched
battle or compel Constantine to raise the siege. A
fierce engagement followed. We are told* that
Constantine had drawn up his men in double Hnes,
when, noticing that the enemy outnumbered him
and threatened to overlap either flank, he ordered
his troops to extend and present a wider front. He
distinguished himself that day by pressing into the
thickest of the fight, " like a mountain torrent in
spate that tears away by their roots the trees on its
banks and rolls down rocks and stones." The orator
depicts for us the scene as Constantine's lieutenants
and captains receive him on his return from the fray,
panting with his exertion and with blood dripping
from his hands. With tears in their eyes, they chide
him for his rashness in imperilling the hopes of the
world. " It does not beseem an Emperor," they
say, " to strike down an enemy with his own
sword. It does not become him to sweat with the
toil of battle.f " In simpler language, Constantine
fought bravely at the head of his men and won the
* Pan. Vet., ix., 9. \ Immo non decet laborare.

The Invasion of Italy 85

day. Pompeianus was slain ; Verona opened her
gates, and so many prisoners fell into the hands of
the conqueror that Constantine made his armourers
forge chains and manacles from the iron of the cap-
tives' swords. In accordance with his usual policy,
he conciliated the favour of those whom he had de-
feated by sparing the city from pillage, and shewed
an equal clemency to Aquileia and the other cities
of Venetia, all of which speedily submitted on the
capitulation of Verona.

With the entire north of Italy thus wrested from
Maxentius, Constantine could turn his face towards
Rome. He encountered no opposition on the march.
Maxentius did not even contest the passage oi the
Apennines ; the Umbrian passes were left open ; and
if the historians are to be trusted — and they speak
with unanimity on the point — the Italian Emperor
simply waited for his doom to come upon him, as
Nero had done, and made no really serious effort to
defend his throne. This slave in the purple {vermda
purpuratus), as the author of the Ninth Panegyric
calls him, cowered trembling in his palace, paralysed
with fear because he had been deserted by the Di-
vine Intelligence and the Eternal Majesty of Rome,
which had transferred themselves from the tyrant
to the side of his rival. We are told, indeed, that a
few days before the appearance of Constantine, Max-
entius quitted the palace with his wife and son and
took up his abode in a private house, not being able
to endure the terrible dreams that came to him by
night and the spectres of the victims which haunted
his crime-stained halls. Constantine moved swiftly

86 Constantine

down from the north of Italy along the Flaminian
Way, and in less than two months after the fall of
Verona, he was at Saxa Rubra, only nine miles from
Rome, with an army eager for battle and confident
of victory. There he found the troops of Maxentius
drawn up in battle array, but posted in a position
which none but a fool or a madman would have se-
lected. The probabilities are that Maxentius could
not trust the citizens of Rome and therefore dared
not stand a siege within the ramparts of Aurelian.
Then, having decided to offer battle, he allowed his
army to cross the Tiber and take up ground whence,
if defeated, their only roads of escape lay over the
narrow Milvian Bridge and a flimsy bridge of boats,
one probably on either flank.

It is said that Maxentius had not intended to be
present in person when the issue was decided. He
was holding festival within the city, celebrating his
birthday with the usual games and pretending that
the proximity of Constantine caused him no alarm.
The populace began to taunt him with cowardice,
and uttered the ominous shout that Constantine was
invincible. Maxentius's fears grew as the clamour
swelled in volume. He hurriedly called for the
Sibylline Books and ordered them to be consulted.
These gave answer that on that very day the enemy
of the Romans should perish — a characteristically
safe reply. Such ambiguity of diction had usually
portended the death of the consulting Prince, but
Lactantius says that the hopes with which the
words inspired Maxentius led him to put on his
armour and ride out of Rome.

The Invasion of Italy 87

The issue was decided at the first encounter.
Constantine charged at the head of his GalHc horse
— now accustomed to and certain of victory — into
the cavalry of Maxentius, which broke and ran
in disorder from the field. Only the Praetorians
made a gallant and stubborn resistance and fell
where they had stood, knowing that it was they
who had raised Maxentius to the throne and that
their destruction was involved in his. While these
fought valiantly with the courage of despair, their
comrades were crowding in panic towards the al-
ready choked bridges. At the Milvian Bridge the
passage was jammed, and the pursuers wrought great
execution. The pontoon bridge collapsed, owing to
the treachery of those who had cut or loosened its
supports. All the reports agree that there was a
sickening slaughter, and that hundreds were drowned
in the Tiber in their vain effort to escape. Among
the victims was Maxentius himself. He was either
thrust into the river by the press of frenzied fugi-
tives or was drowned in trying to scale the high
bank on the opposite shore, when weighed down by
his heavy armour. His corpse was recovered later
from the stream, which the Panegyrists hailed in
ecstatic terms as the co-saviour of Rome with Con-
stantine and the partner of his triumph.*

The victor entered Rome. He had won the prize
which he sought — the mastery of the West— and,
like scores of Roman conquerors before him, he
marched through the famous streets. His tri-

* Pan. Vet., ix., i8.

88 Constantine

umphal procession was graced, says Nazarius, not
by captive chiefs or barbarians in chains, but by
senators who now tasted the joy of freedom again,
and by consulars whose prison doors had been
opened by Constantine's victory — in a word, by a
Free Rome. * Only the head of Maxentius, whose
features still wore the savage, threatening look which
even death itself had not been able to obliterate,
was carried on the point of a spear behind Constan-
tine amid the jeers and insults of the crowd. An-
other Panegyrist gives us a very lively picture of the
throngs as they waited for the Emperor to pass,
describing how they crowded at the rear of the pro-
cession and swept up to the palace, almost venturing
to cross the sacred threshold itself, and how, when
Constantine appeared in the streets on the succeed-
ing days, they sought to unhorse his carriage and
draw it along with their hands. One of the con-
queror's first acts was to extirpate the family of his
fallen rival. Maxentius's elder son, Romulus, who
for a short time had borne the name of Caesar, was
already dead ; the younger son, and probably the wife
too, were now quietly removed. There were other
victims, who had committed themselves too deeply to
Maxentius' fortunes to escape. Rome, says Naza-
rius,f was reconstituted afresh on a lasting basis by
the complete destruction of those who might have
given trouble. But still the victims were compara-
tively few, so few, in the estimation of public opinion,
that the victory was regarded as a bloodless one, and

* Pan. Vet., x., 31. t J'l'i'^-y x., 6.

The Invasion of Italy 89

Constantine's clemency was the theme and admira-
tion of all. When the people clamoured for more
victims — doubtless the most hated instruments of
Maxentius's tyranny — and when the informer pressed
forward to offer his deadly services, Constantine re-
fused to listen. He was resolved to let bygones be
bygones. The laws of the period immediately suc-
ceeding his victory, as they appear in the Theodosian
Code, amply confirm what might otherwise be the
suspect eulogies of the Panegyrists. A general act
of amnesty was passed, and the ghastly head of
Maxentius was sent to Africa to allay the terrors of
the population and convince them that their op-
pressor would trouble them no more. There, it is
to be supposed, it found a final burial-place.

Another early act of Constantine was to disband
the Praetorians, thus carrying out the intention and
decrees of Galerius, The survivors of these long-
famous regiments were marched out of Rome away
from the Circus, the Theatre of Pompeius, and the
Baths, and were set to do their share in the guarding
of the Rhine and the Danube. Whether they bore
the change as voluntarily as the Panegyrist suggests *
is doubtful, and we may question whether they so
soon forgot in their rude cantonments the fleshpots
and " delicicB " of the capital. But the expulsion was
final. The Praetorians ceased to exist. Rome may
have been glad to see the empty barracks, for the
Praetorians had been hated and feared. But the
vacant quarters also spoke eloquently of the fact

* Fan. Vet., ix., 2i.

90 Constantine

that Rome was no longer the mistress of the world.
The " do mina gentium,'' the " rcgina terrariim,'' with-
out her Praetorians, was a thing unthinkable.

Constantine only stayed two months in Rome,
but in that short time, says Nazarius, he cured all
the maladies which the six years' savage tyranny of
Maxentius had brought upon the city. He restored
to their confiscated estates all who had been exiled
or deprived of their property during the recent reign
of terror. He shewed himself easy of approach ; his
ears were the most patient of listeners ; he charmed
all by his kindliness, dignity, and good humour.
To the Senate he shewed unwonted deference.
Diocletian, during his solitary visit to Rome just
prior to his retirement, had treated the senators
with brusqueness, and hardly concealed his contempt
for their mouldy dignities. Constantine preferred to
conciliate them. According to Nazarius, he invested
with senatorial rank a number of representative pro-
vincials, so that the Senate once more became a
dignified body in reality as well as in name, now
that it consisted of the flower of the whole world. *
Probably this signifies little more than that Constan-
tine filled up the vacancies with respectable nom-
inees, spoke the Senate fair, and swore to maintain
its ancient rights and privileges. The Emperor
certainly entertained no such quixotic idea as that
of giving the Senate a vestige of real governing
power or a share in the administration of the Em-
pire. In return for his consideration, the Senate

* Cufii ex totius orbis fiore constaret.

^^ o

The Invasion of Italy 91

bestowed upon him the title of Senior Augustus,
and a golden statue, adorned, according to the Ninth
Panegyrist (c. 25), with the attributes of a god, while
all Italy subscribed for the shield and the crown.

The Senate also instituted games and festivals in
honour of Constantine's victory, and voted him the
triumphal arch which still survives as one of the
most imposing ruins of Imperial Rome and a last-
ing monument to the outrageous vandalism which
stripped the Arch of Titus of its sculptures to grace
the memorial of his successor. Under the central arch
on the one side is the dedication, "To the Liberator
of the City," on the other, "To the Founder of
Our Repose " {Fiindatori qiiietis). Above stands the
famous inscription* in which the Senate and people
of Rome dedicate this triumphal arch to Constan-
tine "because, at the suggestion of the divinity
{instinctu divinitatis), and at the prompting of his
own magnanimity, he and his army had vindicated
the Republic by striking down the tyrant and all his
satellites at a single blow." "At the suggestion of
the divinity ! " The words lead us naturally to dis-
cuss the conversion of Constantine and the Vision of
the Cross.

* The inscription on the Arch of Constantine runs as follows :
" Imp. Cess. Fl. Constantino Maximo
P. F. Augusto S. P. Q. R.
Quod insiinctu divinitatis mentis

Magnitudine cum exercitu suo
Tam de tyranno quam de omni ejus

Factione uno tempore justis
Rempublicam ultus est armis

Arcum triumphis insignem dicavit.'"

CHAPTER VI

THE VISION OF THE CROSS AND THE EDICT OF

MILAN

/IT was during the course of the successful invasion
\ 1 of Italy, which culminated in the battle of the
Milvian Bridge and the capture of Rome, that there
/took place — or was said to have taken place —
( the famous vision of the cross, surrounded by the
\\words, " Conquer by This," which accompanied the
j triumph of Constantine's arms. NThere are two main
■s authorities for the legend, Eusebius and LactantiuS,
/both, of course. Christians an3~ uncompromising
( champions of Constanttnev "wtth whom they were in
'^ose personal contact. \ A third, though he makes
no mention of the cross, is Nazarius, the author of
the Tenth Panegyric. The variations which subse-
quent writers introduce into the story relate merely
to details, or are obvious embroideries upon an
original legend, such, for example, as the statement
of Philostorgius that the words of promise around
the cross were written in stars. We need not
trouble, therefore, with the much later versions of
Sozomen, Socrates, Gregory of Nazianzen, and Nice-
phorus; it will be enough to study the more or less
92

The Vision of the Cross 93

contemporary statements of Eusebius, Lactantius,
and Nazarius. And of these by far the fullest and
most important is that of Eusebius, Bishop of Caes-
area, who '"explicitly declares that he is repeating J
the story as it was told to him by Constantine
himself.

Eusebius shews us the Emperor of Gaul anxiously
debating within his own mind whether his forces
were equal to the dangerous enterprise upon which
he had embarked. Maxentius had a formidable
army. He had also laboured to bring over to his
side the powers of heaven and hell. Constantine's
information from Rome apprised him that Maxen-
tius was assiduously employing all the black arts of
magic and wizardry to gain the favour of the gods.
And Constantine grew uneasy and apprehensive, for
no one then disbelieved in the efficacy of magic, and
he considered whether he might not counterbalance
this undue advantage which Maxentius was obtain-
ing by securing the protecting services of some
equally potent deity. Such is the only possible
meaning of Eusebius's words, svvoei 6r}ra onoiov
dioi diov STtiypaipaffdai /Sot^Oov — words which seem
strange in the twentieth century, but were natural
enough in the fourth. " He thought in his own
mind what sort of god he ought to secure as ally.'!/
''And then, says his biographer, the idea occurred to
him that though his predecessors in the purple had
ibelieved in a multiplicity of gods, the great majority
'of them had perished miserably. The gods, at
whose altars they had offered rich sacrifice and
plenteous libation, had deserted them in their hour

94 Constantine

/of trouble, and had looked on unmoved while they
\and their families were exterminated from off the
Mace of the earth, leaving scarcely so much as a
/name or a recollection behind them. The gods had
cheated them and lured them to their doom with
suave promises of treacherous oracles. Whereas, on
the other hand, his father, Constantius, had believed
in but one god, and had marvellously prospered
throughout his life, helped and protected by this
single deity who had showered every blessing upon
his head. From such a contrast, what other deduc-
tion could be drawn than that the god of Constan-
tius was the deity for Constantius's son to honour?
Constantine resolved that it would be folly to waste
time or thought upon deities who were of no account
(Ttepi rov? jur^dev ovra? dsov?). He would worship
no other god than the god of his father.

Such, according to Eusebius, is the first pha^e of
(the Emperor's conversion, a conviction not of sin,
|but of the folly of worshipping gods who cannot or
will not do anything for their votaries. But this
god of his father, this single unnamed divinity, who
was it ? Was it one of the gods of the Roman Pan-
theon, Jupiter, or Apollo, or Hercules, whose special
protection Constantine had claimed for himself, as
Augustus had claimed that of Apollo, and Diocle-

Itian that of Jupiter? Or was it the vague spirit of
deity itself, the to deiov of the Greek philosophers,
the divinitas of the cultured Roman, whose delicacy
was offended by the grossness of the exceedingly
human passions of the Roman gods and goddesses?
Obviously, it must be the latter, and Eusebius tells

The Vision of the Cross 95

^us that Constantine offered up a prayer to this god
lof his father, beseeching him," to declare himself who
he was," and to stretch forth his right hand' to help.
To declare himself who he was ! " {cpTjvai avrc^
"iavTov oari? si'tf). That had ever been the stum-
bhng-block in the way of the acceptance by the
masses of the immaterial principles propounded by
the philosophers. Constantine must have a god with
a name, and he must have a sign from heaven in
visible proof. Many have asked for such a si^
just as importunately {\i7tapc5? ihstsvovti) as Con-
stantine, but without success. To him it was
vouchsafed.

The answer came one afternoon, when the su^i
had just passed its zenith and was beginning to de-
cline. Lifting his eyes, the Emperor saw in the
heavens just above the sun the figure of a cross, a
cross of radiant light, and attached to it was the in-
/scription, " Conquer by This " {rovTcp vina). Euse-
{ bius admits that if any one else had told the story it
J would not have been easy to believe it, but it was told
yto him by the Emperor himself, who had confirmed
( his words with a royal oath. How then was it pos-
sible to doubt ? Constantine was awe-struck at the
vision, which Eusebius expressly declares was seen
also by the entire army. All that afternoon the
Emperor pondered long upon the significance of
the words, and night fell while he was still asking
himself what they could mean. Then, as he slept,^
Christ appeared to him in a dream, bearing with'
Him the sign that had flamed in the sky, and bade
the sleeper make a copy of it and use it as a talis-'

96 Constantine

man whenever he gave battle. As soon as dawn
broke, Constantine summoned his friends and told
them of the message he had received. Workers in
gold and precious stones were hastily sent for, and,
sitting in the midst of them, Constantine carefully
described the outline of the vision and bade them
execute a replica of it in their most precious mate-
rials. This was the famous Labarum, fashioned
from a long gilded spear and a transverse bar.
Above was a crown of gold, with jewels encircling
the monogram of Christ, and from the bar depended
a rich purple cloth, heavily embroidered with gold,
blazing with jewels, and bearing the busts of Con-
stantine and his sons. It suggested the Cross just
as much but no more than did the ordinary cavalry
standards of the Roman armies; the sacred mono-
gram alone indicated the supreme change which
had come over the Emperor, who, in answer to his
prayer, had thus found that the single Deity which
his father, Constantius, had worshipped was none
other than Christ, the God of the Christians. For
the Emperor, desiring to know more of the Cross
and the Christ, summoned certain Christian teachers
in his camp to explain these things more fully to
him, and they told him that "Christ was God, the
only begotten Son of the one true God, and that
the vision he had seen was the symbol of immortal-
ity and of the victory which Christ had won over
^death." Such, according to Eusebius, was the con-
version of Constantine, and such was the Emperor's
own account of the circumstances which led up to
it. This was the official story, as it might have

The Vision of the Cross 97

appeared in a Roman Court Circular at the time
when Eusebius wrote.

But when did Eusebius write The Life of Constan-
tine, from which we have taken this narrative ? Not
until Constantine himself was dead, not, that is to
say, until after 337, fully a quarter of a century after
the event described. The date is important. In
twenty-five years a story may be transfigured out of
all knowledge through constant repetition by the
narrator, to say nothing of the changes it suffers if
it passes in active circulation from mouth to mouth.
Has this been the fate of the story of the Vision of
the Cross? The Life of Constantine was not the
first volume of contemporary history published by
Eusebius. He had already written a History of the
Church, which he issued to the world in 326. What,
then, had the author to say in that year about this
marvellous vision ? Nothing, There is not a word
about the flaming cross, or the coming of Christ to
Constantine in a dream, or the fashioning of the La-
barum. All Eusebius says, in his History, of the
conversion of Constantine, is that the Emperor
"piously called to his aid the God of Heaven and
his son Jesus Christ." It is a strange silence.
If the heavenly cross had been seen by the whole
army ; if the current version of the story had been
the same in 326 as it was in 337, it is at least diffi-
cult to understand why Eusebius omitted all men-
tion of an event which must have been the talk of
the whole Roman world and must have made the
heart of every Christian exult. Such manifest signs
from Heaven were scarcely so common in the open-

98 Constantine

ing of the fourth century that an ecclesiastical his-
torian would think any allusion to it unnecessary.
The argument from silence is never absolutely con-
clusive, but the reticence of Eusebius in 326 at least
warrants a strong suspicion that the legend had not
then crystallised itself into its final shape.

Of even greater importance are the extraordinary
discrepancies between the versions of Eusebius and
Lactantius. Lactantius wrote his treatise Oti the
Deaths of the Persecutors very shortly after the battle
of the Milvian Bridge, and it has a special value,
therefore, as containing the earliest account of the
vision. The author, who was the tutor of the Em-
peror's son, Crispus, must have known all there was
to be known of the incident, for he lived in the closest
intimacy with the court circle. We should con-
fidently expect, therefore, that the author who retails
Verbatim the conversation of Diocletian and Galerius
in the penetralia of the palace of Nicomedia would
be fully aware of what took place in full view of
Constantine's army.

What then is the version of Lactantius ? It is
that just before the battle of the Milvian Bridge,
Constantine was warned in a dream to have the
divine sign of the cross {ccsleste signuvi) inscribed on
the shields of his soldiers before leading them to the
attack. He did as he was bidden, and the letter X,
with one of the bars slightly bent — thus, -f- — to
form the sacred monogram, was placed upon his
legionaries' shields. Such is the legend in its earliest
guise. There is not a word about Constantine's
anxiety and searching of soul. The event is placed,

The Vision of the Cross 99

not at the opening of the campaign, as Eusebius
would seem to suggest though he does not expressly
say so, but on the eve of the decisive battle. There
is nothing about the cross flaming in the afternoon
sky, nothing of the inscription, " Conquer by This,"
nothing of the entire army being witness of the por-
tent. Constantine simply has a dream and is
warned {commonitiis) to place the initial of Christ on
his soldiers' shields. It is not even said who gave
the warning; there is not a hint that it was Christ
Himself — as in the story of Eusebius — who ap-
peared to Constantine; there is no mention of the
Labarum. Obviously, Lactantius was aware of
no triumphant answer to Constantine's prayer for
a sign. According to him, the Emperor was merely
warned in a dream that victory would reward him
if he dedicated his weapons to the honour and
service of Christ.

We come back, therefore, to the official version
of Eusebius somewhat shaken in our belief of its lit-
eral accuracy. Let us note, too, the extreme vague-
ness of the time and the place where the incident is
reported to have taken place, and remember that one
who had dwelt with Diocletian and Galerius when
they signed the edicts of persecution could not
possibly have been ignorant of the principles of
Christianity, which was no longer the religion of
an obscure sect. We need not, indeed, find any
difficulty in accepting the first part of the story
of Eusebius in so far as it represents Constantine
anxiously enquiring after divine protection. It
has been urged, very shrewdly, that the story would

loo Constantine

have been idealised if it had been altogether in-
vented. Constantine was afraid that he had rashly
committed himself and that Maxentius had already
secured the favour of the Roman gods. His ob-
jective, too, was Rome, still regarded with super-
stitious dread and reverence throughout the world,
and reverenced all the more, no doubt, in proportion
as distance lent enchantment to the view. What
then more natural than that he should take for
granted that, if ever the gods of Rome had inter-
fered in mortal affairs, they would do so now on
behalf of Maxentius, who had been raised to empire
as Rome's champion ? Constantine was not one of
those rarer and choicer spirits, who seek truth for
its own sake without regard for material advantage.
Conversion in his case did not mean some sudden
or even gradual change permanently altering his
outlook upon life, and refining and transmuting
personal character. It merely meant worshipping
at another shrine, entering another temple, reciting
another formula. His ruling motive was ambition.
He would worship the god who should bring vic-
tory to his arms. The intensity of his conviction
was to be measured by the extent of his success
and by the height to which he carried his fortunes.

But what of the second part of the story — the vis-
ion of the cross flaming in the sky in full view of
Constantine and his army ? Even those who admit
miracles into critical history allow that the evidence
for this one is exceedingly inconclusive. We need
not doubt that Eusebius related the story just as it
was told to him by Constantine, though the Bishop,

The Vision of the Cross loi

if there were choice of versions, would unhesita-
tingly accept the one which contained most of the
miraculous and the abnormal. Nor does the oath
which Constantine swore in support of his story add
anything to its credibility. It was his habit to swear
an oath when he wished to be emphatic. Are we,
then, to consider that the whole legend was an inven-
tion of the Emperor's from beginning to end ? In
this connection it is important to take into account
the narrative of Nazarius, a rhetorician who delivered
a formal panegyric upon Constantine on the anni-
versary of his tenth year of rule, and took the op-
portunity of reviewing the whole campaign against
Maxentius. Nazarius was a pagan ; what then was

(the pagan version, if any, of the miracle described
by Eusebius and the Emperor ? Did the pagans at-
tribute divine assistance to Constantine throughout
this critical campaign ? The answer is unmis-
takable. They did so most unequivocally. Na-
zarius tells us * that all Gaul was talking with awe
and wonder of the marvels which had taken place,
how the soldiers of Constantine had seen in the sky
celestial armies marching in battle array and had
been dazzled by their flashing shields and glittering
armour. Not only had the dull eyes of earthly men
for once availed to look upon heavenly brightness ;
Constantine's soldiery had also heard the shouts of
these armies in the sky, " We seek Constantine ; we
are marching to the aid of Constantine." f Clearly
the pagan as well as the Christian world insisted

* Pan. Vet., x., 14.

f Constantinum petimus : Constantino imus auxilio.

I02 Constantine

upon attributing divine assistance to Constantine
and had its own version of how that succour came.
Nazarius's explanation was simple. According to
him, it was Constantius Chlorus, the deified Emperor,
who was leading up the hosts of heaven, and such
miraculous intervention was due to the supreme
virtue of the father, which had descended to the son.
The question at once arises whether this is merely
a pagan version of the Christian legend. Unable to
deny the miracle, did the pagans, in order to rob
the Christians of this wonderful testimony to the
truth of their religion, invent the story of Constan-
tius and the heavenly hosts? Such a theory is
absolutely untenable. It leaves out of sight the all-
important fact that public opinion in the fourth cent-
ury— as indeed for many centuries both before and
after — was not only willing to believe in super-
natural intervention at moments of great crisis, but
actually insisted that there should be such interven-
tion. The greater the crisis, the more entirely rea-
sonable it was that some deity or deities should
make their influence especially felt and turn the
scale to one side or the other. Every Roman be-
lieved that Castor and Pollux had fought for Rome
in the supreme struggle against Hannibal. Julius
believed that the favour of Venus Genetrix, the
special patroness of the Julian House, had helped
him to win the battle of Pharsalus. Augustus was
just as certain that Apollo had fought on his side at
Philippi and at Actium. It was easy — and modest
— for the winner to believe in his protecting deity's
strength of arm.

The Vision of the Cross 103

One curious phrase employed by Nazarius is worth
noting. It is that in which he claims that the special
interference of Heaven on behalf of Constantine was
not merely an extraordinary and gratifying tribute to
the Emperor's virtues, but that it was no more than
his due. In short, the crisis was so tremendous that
Heaven would have stood convicted of a strange
failure to see events in their just proportion if it had
not done " some great thing," and wrought some
corresponding wonder. Such was the idea at the
back of Nazarius's mind ; we suspect that it was not
wanting in the mind of Eusebius or of Constantine.
We may put the matter paradoxically and say that
a miracle in those days was not much considered un-
less it was a very great one. People who were ac-
customed to see — or to think that they saw — statues
sweating blood, and to hear words proceeding from
lips of bronze or marble, and were accustomed to
treat such untoward events merely as portents de-
noting that something unusual was about to- happen,
must have been difficult people to surprise. Natur-
ally, therefore, legends grew more and more marvel-
lous with repetition after the event. The oftener a
man told such a story the less appeal it would make
to his own wonder, unless he fortified it with some
new incident. But to impress one's auditors it is
above all things necessary to be impressed oneself.
Hence the well-garnished narrative of Nazarius. The
idea of armies marching along the sky was common
enough. Any one can imagine he sees the glint of
weapons as the sun strikes the clouds. But this does
not satisfy the professional rhetorician. He bids us

104 Constantine

see the proud look in the faces of the heavenly hosts,
and distinguish the cries with which they move to
battle. But if Nazarius is suspect, why not Euse-
bius and Constantine? Unless, indeed, there is to
be one standard for pagan and another for Christian
miracles !

^ But was there some unusual manifestation in the
<sky which was the common basis of the stories of
(^Eusebius and Nazarius? It is not unreasonable to
suppose so. Scientists say that the natural phenom-
enon known as the parhelion not infrequently as-
sumes the shape of a cross, and Dean Stanley, while
discussing this possible explanation in his Lectures
on the Eastern Church, instanced the extraordinary
impression made upon the minds of the vulgar by
the aurora borealis of November, 1848. He recalled
how, throughout France, the people thought they
saw in the sky the letters L. N. — the initials of
Louis Napoleon — and took them as a clear indication
from Heaven of how they ought to vote at the im-
pending Presidential election, and as an omen of the
result. That was the interpretation in France. In
Rome — where the people knew and cared nothing
for Louis Napoleon— no one saw the Napoleonic ini-
tials. The lurid gleam in the sky was there thought
to be the blood of the murdered Rossi, which had
risen to heaven and was calling for vengeance. In
Oporto, on the other hand, the conscience-stricken
populace thought the fire was coming down from
heaven to punish them for their profligacy. If such
varying interpretations of a natural if rare phenom-
enon were possible in the middle of the nineteenth

The Vision of the Cross 105

century, what interpretation was not possible in the
fourth? The world was profoundly superstitious.
When people believe in manifest signs they usually
see them. Some Polonius, gifted either with better
vision or livelier imagination than his fellows, declares
that he can distinguish clear and definite shapes
amid the vague outline of the clouds ; the report
spreads ; the legend grows. And when legends are
found to serve a useful purpose the authorities lend
them countenance, guarantee their accuracy, and
even take to themselves the credit of their authorship.
At the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese war a strange
story came from St. Petersburg that the Russian
moujiks were passing on from village to village the
legend that St. George had been seen in the skies
leading his hosts to the Far East against the infidel
Japanese. Had Russian victories followed, what
better "proof" of celestial aid could have been de-
sired? But as disaster ensued, it is to be supposed
that St. George remembered midway that he also
had interests in the Anglo-Japanese alliance, and
remained strictly neutral.

But though we may be justly sceptical of the cir-
cumstances attending the conversion of Constan-
tine, there is no room to doubt the conversion itself.
''We do not believe that he fought the battle of the
Milvian Bridge as the avowed champion of Christ-
ianity, but the probabilities are that he had made
up his mind to become a Christian when he fought
it. The miraculous vision in the heavens, the
dream in the quiet of the night, the appearance of
Christ by the bedside of the Emperor — as to these

io6 Constantine

things we may keep an open mind, but the fashion-
ing of the Labarum— the sacred standard which
was preserved for so many centuries as the most
precious of imperial heirlooms and was seen and
described as late as the ninth century— this was the
outward and visible proof of the change which had
come over the Emperor. He had abandoned Apollo

Sfor Christ. The sun-god had been the favourite
deity of his youth and early manhood, as it had been
of Augustus Caesar, the founder of the Empire, and
the originator of the close association between the
worship of Apollo and the worship of the reigning
Csesar. Constantine would not fail to note that many
iof the most gracious attributes of Apollo belonged
also to Christ.

He soon manifested the sincerity of his conver-
sipn. After a short stay in Rome, he went north to
I^ilan, where he gave the hand of his sister, Constan-
tU^to his ally, Licinius. Diocletian was invited, but
declined to make the journey. The two Emperors,
no doubt, desired to secure the prestige of his moral
support in their mutual hostility to the Emperor of
the East, and the benefit of his counsel in their de-
liberations upon the state of the Empire. But even
if Diocletian had been tempted to leave his cabbages
to join in the marriage festivities and the political
conference at Milan, we imagine that he would still
have declined if he had been given any hint of the
intentions of Constantine and Licinius with respect
to the great question of religious toleration or perse-
cution. He might have been candid enough to
admit the failure of his policy, but he would still

The Edict of Milan 107

have shrunk from proclaiming it with his own Hps.
For, before the festivities at Milan were interrupted
by the news that Maximin had thrown down the
gage of battle, Constantine and Licinius issued in
their joint names the famous Edict of Milan, which
proclaimed for the first time in its absolute entirety
the noble principle of complete religious toleration.
Despite their length, it will be well to give in full
the more important clauses. They are found in the
text which has been happily preserved by Lactan-
tius* in the original Latin, while we also have the
edict in Greek in the Ecclesiastical History of Euse-
bius (x. 5). It runs as follows:

" Inasmuch as we, Constantine Augustus and Licinius
Augustus, have met together at Milan on a joyful oc-
casion, and have discussed all that appertains to the
public advantage and safety, we have come to the con-
clusion that, among the steps likely to profit the majority
of mankind and demanding immediate attention, nothing
is more necessary than to regulate the worship of the
Divinity.

"We have decided, therefore, to grant both to the
Christians and to all others perfect freedom to practise
the religion which each has thought best for himself,
that so whatever Divinity resides in heaven may be pla-
cated, and rendered propitious to us and to all who have
[jjeen placed under our authority. Consequently, we
have thought this to be the policy demanded alike by
healthy and sound reason — that no one, on any pretext
whatever, should be denied freedom to choose his re-
ligion, whether he prefers the Christian religion or any

* De Mart. Per sec, c. 48.

io8 Constantine

other that seems most suited to him, in order that the
Supreme Divinity, whose observance we obey with free
minds, may in all things vouchsafe to us its usual favours
and benevolences.

"Wherefore,it is expedient for yourExcellencytoknow
that we have resolved to abolish every one of the stipu-
lations contained in all previous edicts sent to you with
respect to the Christians, on the ground that they now
seem to us to be unjust and alien from the spirit of our
clemency.

"Henceforth, in perfect and absolute freedom, each and
every person who chooses to belong to and practise
the Christian religion shall be at liberty to do so without
let or hindrance in any shape or form.

" We have thought it best to explain this to your Ex-
cellency in the fullest possible manner that you may
know that we have accorded to these same Christians
a free and absolutely unrestricted right to practise their
own religion.

!" And inasmuch as you see that we have granted this
indulgence to the Christians, your Excellency will un-
derstand that a similarly free and unrestricted right, con-
formable to the peace of our times, is granted to all
others equally to practise the religion of their choice.
• We have resolved upon this course that no one and no
2 religion may seem to be robbed of the honour that is
7 their due."

Then follow the most explicit instructions for the
restoration to the Christians of the properties of
which they had been robbed during the persecutions,
though the robbery had been committed in accord-
ance with imperial command. Whether a property
had been simply confiscated, or sold, or given away,

The Edict of Milan 109

it was to be handed back without the slightest cost
and without any delays or ambiguities {Postposita
omni friistratione atqiie ambiguitate). Purchasers
who had bought such properties in good faith were
to be indemnified from the public treasury by grace
of the Emperor.

But the abiding interest of this celebrated edict
lies in the general principles there clearly enunciated.
Every man, without distinction of rank or national-
ity, is to have absolute freedom to choose and prac-
tise the religion which he deems most suited to his
needs {Libera atqiie absoliita colendcs religiojiis sties
facultas). The phrase is repeated with almost wea-
risome iteration, but the principle was novel and
strange, and one can see the anxiety of the framers
of this edict that there shall be no possible loophole
for misunderstanding. Everybody is to have free
choice; all previous anti-Christian enactments are
annulled ; not only is no compulsion to be employed
against the Christian, he is not even to be troubled
or annoyed {Citra ullani inquietiidinem ac molestiani).
The novelty lay not so much in the toleration of the
existence of Christianity, — both Constantine and
/Licinius had two years before signed the edict
Whereby Galerius put an end to the persecution, —
(^ut in its formal official recognition by the State.
What motives, then, are assigned by the Emperors
for this notable change of policy ? Certainly not
humanity. Nothing is said of the terrors of the late
persecutions and the horrible sufferings of the Christ-
ians— there is merely a bald reference to previous
edicts which the Emperors consider " unjust and

I lo Constantine

alien from the spirit of our clemency " {Sinistra et
a nostra dementia aliena esse\ There is no appeal
to political necessity, such as the exhaustion of the
world and its palpable need of rest. The motives
assigned are purely religious. The Emperors pro-
( claim religious toleration in order that they and
Itheir subjects may continue to receive the blessings
(of Heaven. One of them at least had just emerged
victoriously from the manifold hazards of an invasion
of Italy. Surely we can trace a reference to the
battle of the Milvian Bridge and the overthrow of
Maxentius in the mention of " the Divine favour
towards us, which we have experienced in affairs of
the highest moment " {Divinus jiixta no s favor quern
fin tantis siimus rebus experti). What Constantine
\ and Licinius hope to secure is a continuance of the
j favour and benevolence of the Supreme Divinity,
(the patronage of the ruling powers of the sky. The
phraseology is important. The name of God is not
mentioned — only the vague " Summa Divinitas^'
'■^Divinus favor,'' and the still more curious and
non-committal phrase, " Quicquid est Divinitatis in
sede ccelesti.'" In Eusebius the same phrase appears
in a form still more nebulous {on tcoxb. iari deiorr)?
xdi ovpaviov npdyfxato?:). A pagan philosopher,
more than half sceptical as to the existence of a per-
sonal God, might well employ such language, but it
reads strangely in an official edict.

But then this edict was to bear the joint names
of Constantine and Licinius. Constantine might be
a Christian, but Licinius was still a pagan, and Licin-
ius was not his vassal, but his equal. He would cer-

The Edict of Milan in

tainly not have been prepared to set his name to an
edict which pledged him to personal adherence to the
Christian faith. Constantine, in the flush of triumph,
would insist that the persecution of the Christians
should cease, and that the Christian religion should
be ofificially recognised. Licinius would raise no
objection. But they would speedily find, when it
came to drafting a joint edict, that the only religious
ground common to them both was very limited in
extent, and that the only way to preserve a sem-
blance of unity was to employ the vaguest phrase-
ology which each might interpret in his own fashion.
If we can imagine the Pope and the Caliph drafting
a joint appeal to mankind which necessitated the
mention of the Higher Power, they would find them-
selves driven to use words as cloudy and indistinct
as the " Whatever Divinity there is and heavenly
substance" of Eusebius. No, it was not that Con-
stantine's mind was in the transitional stage ; it was
rather that he had to find a common platform for
himself and Licinius,

But to have converted Licinius at all to an
official recognition of the Christians and complete
toleration was a great achievement, for the principle,
as we have said, was entirely new. M. Gaston
Boissier, in discussing this point, recalls how even
the broad-minded Plato had found no place in his
ideal republic for those who disbelieved in the gods
of their fatherland and of the city of their birth.
Even if they kept their opinions to themselves and
did not seek to disturb the faith of others, Plato
insisted upon their being placed in a House of

112 Constantine

Correction — it is true he calls it a Sophronisterion, or
House of Wisdom — for five years, where they were
to listen to a sermon every day ; while, if they were
zealous propagandists of their pernicious doctrines,
he proposed to keep them all their lives in horrible
dungeons and deny their bodies after death the
right of sepulture. How, one wonders, would Soc-
rates have fared in such a state? No better, we
fancy, than he fared in his own city of Athens.
But, throughout antiquity, every lawgiver took the
same view, that a good citizen must accept without
question the gods of his native place who had been
the gods of his fathers ; and it was a simple step
'from that position to the stern refusal to allow a
man, in the vigorous words of the Old Testament,
to go a-whoring after other gods. " For I, thy God,
am a jealous God." The God of the Jews was not
more jealous than the gods of the Assyrians, the
Egyptians, the Greeks, or the Romans would like
to have been, had they had the same power of
concise expression.

What was the theory of the State religion in
Rome ? Cicero tells us in a well-known passage in
his treatise On the Laws, where he quotes the
ancient formula, " Let no man have separate gods of
his own : nor let people privately worship new gods
or alien gods, unless they have been publicly ad-
mitted." * Nothing could be more explicit. But
theory and practice in Rome had a habit of be-
coming divorced from one another. It is a noto-

* Separatim nemo habessit deos : neve novos, sive advenas, nisi
publice adscitos privatim colunto. — De Leg., ii., 8.

The Edict of Milan 113

rious fact that, as Rome's conquering eagles flew
farther afield, the legions and the merchants who fol-
lowed in their track broughtall manner of strangegods
back to the city, where every wandering Chaldaean
thaumaturgist, magician, or soothsayer found wel-
come and profit, and every stray goddess — especially
if her rites had mysteries attached to them — re-
ceived a comfortable home. In a word, Rome
found new religions just as fascinating — for a season
or two — as do the capitals of the modern world,
and these new religions were certainly not " publicly
admitted " by the Pontifex Maxinms and the re-
presentatives of the State religion. Occasionally,
usually after some outbreak of pestilence or because
an Emperor was nervous at the presence of so many
swarthy charlatans devoting themselves to the
Black Arts, an order of expulsion would be issued
and there would be a fluttering of the dove-cotes.
But they came creeping back one by one, as the
storm blew over. While, therefore, in theory the
gods of Rome were jealous, in practice they were
not so. The easy scepticism or eclecticism of the
cultured Roman was conducive to tolerance.
Cicero's famous sentence in the Pro Flacco, " Each
state has its own religion, Lselius : we have ours,'
shews how little of the religious fanatic there was
in the average Roman, who stole the gods of the
people he conquered and made them his own, so]
that they might acquiesce in the Roman domination^
The Roman was tolerant enough in private life
towards other people's religious convictions : all he
asked was reciprocity, ard that was precisely what

114

Constantine

the Christian would not and could not give him.
/if the Christian would have sacrificed at the altars
\ of the State gods, the Roman would never have
/objected to his worship of Christ for his own private
/ satisfaction. There lies the secret of the perse-
l cutions, and of the fierce anti-Christian hatreds.
f Constantine and Licinius, by their edict of recog-
J nition and toleration, " publicly admitted" into the
I Roman worship the God of the Christians.

CHAPTER VII

THE DOWNFALL OF LICINIUS

IT will be convenient in this chapter to present a
connected narrative of the course of political
events from the Edict of Milan in 313 down to the
overthrow of Licinius by Constantine in 324. We
have seen that Maximin Daza never moved a single
soldier to help his ally, Maxentius, during Constan-
tine's invasion of Italy, though he soon gave prac-
tical proof that his hostility had not abated by
invading the territory of Licinius. The attack was
clearly not expected. Licinius was still at Milan, and
his troops had probably been drawn off into winter
quarters, when the news came that Maximin had
collected a powerful army in Syria, had marched
through to Bithynia regardless of the sufferings of
his legions and the havoc caused in the ranks by the
severity of the season, and had succeeded in cross-
ing the Bosphorus. Apparently, Maximin was be-
sieging Byzantium before Licinius was ready to
move from Italy to confront him.

Byzantium capitulated after a siege of eleven
days and Heraclea did not offer a prolonged resist-
ance. By this time, however, Licinius was getting
115

ii6 Constantine

within touch of the invader and preparations were
made on both sides for a pitched battle. The num-
bers of Licinius's army were scarcely half those
of his rival, but Maximin was completely routed on
a plain called Serenus, near the city of Adrianople,
and fled for his life, leaving his broken battalions to
shift for themselves. Lactantius, in describing the
engagement,"^ represents it as having been a duel
to the death between Christianity and paganism.
He says that Maximin had vowed to eradicate the
very name of the Christians if Jupiter favoured his
arms ; while Licinius had been warned by an angel
of God in a dream that, if he wished to make infalli-
bly sure of victory, he and his army had only to
recite a prayer to Almighty God which the angel
would dictate to him. Licinius at once sent for
a secretary and the prayer was taken down. It ran
as follows :

"God most High, we call upon Thee; Holy God, we
call upon Thee. We commend to Thee all justice; we
commend to Thee our safety; we commend to Thee our
sovereignty. Through Thee we live; through Thee we
gain victory and happiness. Most High and Holy God,
hear our prayers. We stretch out our arms to Thee.
Hear us. Most High and Holy God."

Such was the talismanic prayer of which the
Emperor's secretary made hurried copies, distribu-
ting them to the general ofificers and the tribunes of
the legions, with instructions that the troops were

De Mort. Per sec, c. 46.

The Downfall of Licinius 117

at once to get the words off by heart. When the
armies moved against one another in battle array,
the legions of Licinius at a given signal laid down
their shields, removed their helmets, and, lifting their
hands to heaven, recited in unison these rhythmic
sentences with their strangely effective repetitions.
Lactantius tells us that the murmur of the prayer
was borne upon the ears of the doomed army of the
enemy. Then, after a brief colloquy between the
rivals, in which Maximin refused to offer or agree to
any concession, because he believed that the soldiers
of Licinius would come over to him in a body, the
armies charged and the standard of Maximin went
down.

It is a striking story, and we may easily understand
that Licinius, fresh from his meeting with Constan-
tine and with vivid recollection of how valiantly
this Summus Dens had fought for his ally against
Maxentius, would be ready to believe beforehand
in the efficacy of any supernatural warning con-
veyed by any supernatural " minister of grace."
We may note, too, the splendid vagueness of the
( Deity invoked in the prayer. Lactantius, of course,
\claims that this Most High and Holy God is none
Jother than the God of the Christians, but there was
jnothing to prevent the votary of Jupiter, of Apollo,
/of Mithra, of Baal, or of Balenus, from thinking that
(he was imploring the aid of his own familiar deity.
Maximin fled from the scene of carnage as though
he had been pursued by all the Cabiri. Throwing
aside his purple and assuming the garb of a slave — it
is Lactantius, however, who is speaking — he crossed

ii8 Constantine

the Bosphorus, and, within twenty-four hours of quit-
ting the field, reached once more the palace of Nico-
media — a distance of a hundred and sixty miles.
Taking his wife and children with him, he hurried
through the defiles of the Taurus, summoned to
his side whatever troops he had left behind in Syria
and Egypt, and awaited the oncoming of Licinius,
who followed at leisure in his tracks. The end was
not long delayed. Maximin's soldiers regarded his
cause as lost, and despairing of clemency, he took
his own life at Tarsus. His provinces passed with-
out a struggle into the hands of Licinius, who butch-
ered every surviving member of Maximin's family.

Nor had the victor pity even for two ladies of
imperial rank, whose misfortunes and sufferings ex-
cited the deepest compassion in that stony-hearted
age. These were Prisca, the wife of Diocletian, and
her daughter Valeria, the widow of the Emperor
Galerius. On his death-bed Galerius had entrusted
his wife to the care and the gratitude of Maximin,
whom he had raised from obscurity to a throne.
Maximin repaid his confidence by pressing Valeria
to marry him and offering to divorce his own wife.
Valeria returned an indignant and high-spirited re-
fusal. She would never think of marriage, she said,*
while still wearing mourning for a husband whose
ashes were not yet cold. It was monstrous that
Maximin should seek to divorce a faithful wife, and,
even if she assented to his proposal, she had clear
warning of what was likely to be her own fate.

* De Mort. Per sec. , c. 39.

The Downfall of Licinius 119

Finally, it was not becoming that the daughter of
Diocletian and the widow of Galerius should stoop
to a second marriage. Maximin took a bitter re-
venge. He reduced Valeria to penury, marked
down all her friends for ruin, and finally drove her
into exile with her mother, Prisca, who nobly shared
the sufferings of the daughter whom she could not
shield. Lactantius tells us that the two imperial
ladies wandered miserably through the Syrian
wastes, while Maximin took delight in spurning the
overtures of the aged Diocletian, who sent repeated
messages begging that his daughter might be allowed
to go and live with him at Salona. Maximin re-
fused even when Diocletian sent one of his rela-
tives to remind him of past benefits, and the two
unfortunate ladies knew no alleviation of their
troubles. When the tyrant fell, they probably
thought that the implacable hatred with which
Maximin had pursued them would be their best
recommendation to the favour of Licinius. Again,
however, they were disappointed, for Licinius, in
his jealous anxiety to spare no one connected with
the families of his predecessors in the purple, or-
dered the execution of Candidianus, a natural son
of Galerius, who had been brought up by Valeria as
her own child. In despair, therefore, the two ladies,
who had boldly gone to Nicomedia, fled from the
scene and " wandered for fifteen months, disguised as
plebeians, through various provinces,"* until they
had the misfortune to be recognised at Thessalonica.

■ De Mart Per sec, c. 51.

I20 Constantine

They were at once beheaded and their bodies
thrown into the sea, amid the pitying synnpathy of a
vast throng which dared not lift a hand to save
them.

Constantine and Licinius now shared between
them the whole of the Roman Empire. They were
allies, but their alliance did not long stand the strain
of their respective ambitions. Each had won an easy
victory over his antagonist, and each was confident
that his legions would suf^ce to win him undivided
empire. We know very little of the pretexts as-
signed for the quarrel which culminated in the war
of 316. Zosimus throws the blame upon Constan-
tine, whom he accuses of not keeping faith and of
trying to filch from Licinius some of his provinces.
But as the sympathies of Zosimus were strongly
pagan and as he invariably imputed the worst possible
motive to Constantine, it is fairest and most reason-
able to suppose that the two Emperors simply quar-
relled over the division of the Empire. Constantine
had given the hand of his half-sister Anastasia to
one of his generals, named Bassianus, whom he had
raised to the dignity of a Caesar. But for some
reason left unexplained — possibly because Constan-
tine granted only the title, without the legions and
the provinces, of a Csesar — Bassianus became dis-
contented with his position and entered into an
intrigue with Licinius. Constantine discovered the
plot, put Bassianus to death, and demanded from
Licinius the surrender of Senecio, a brother of the
victim and a relative of Licinius. The demand was
refused ; some statues of Constantine were demol-

The Downfall of Licinius 121

ished by Licinius's orders at ^mona (Laybach)
and war ensued.

The armies met in the autumn of 3 16 near Cibalis,
in Pannonia, between the rivers Drave and Save.
Neither Emperor led into the field anything ap-
proaching the full strength he was able to muster ;
Licinius is said to have had only 35,000 men and
Constantine no more than 20,000. From Zosimus's
highly rhetorical account of the battle'^ we gather
that Constantine chose a position between a steep
hill and an impassable morass, and repulsed the
charge of the legions of Licinius. Then as he
advanced into the plain in pursuit of the enemy, he
was checked by some fresh troops which Licinius
brought up, and a long and stubborn contest lasted
until nightfall, when Constantine decided the for-
tunes of the day by an irresistible charge. Licinius
is said to have lost 20,000 men in this encounter,
more than fifty per cent, of his entire force, and he
beat a hurried retreat, leaving his camp to be plun-
dered by the victor, whose own losses must also
have been severe.

A few weeks later the battle was renewed on the
plain of Mardia in Thrace. Licinius had evidently
been strongly reinforced from Asia, for, though he
was again defeated after a hotly contested battle,
he was able to effect an orderly retreat and draw off
his beaten troops without disorder — a rare thing in
the annals of Roman warfare, where defeat usually
involved destruction. Constantine is said to have

* Zosimus, ii., 19.

122 Constantine

owed his victory to his superior generalship and to
the skill with which he timed a surprise attack of
five thousand of his men upon the rear of the
enemy. Yet we may be certain that he would not
have consented to treat with Licinius for peace had
he not had considerable cause for anxiety about the
final issue of the campaign. However, his two
victories, while not sufficiently decisive to enable
him to dictate any terms he chose, at least gave him
the authoritative word in the negotiations which
ensued, and sealed the doom of the unfortunate
Valens, whom Licinius had just appointed Caesar.
When Licinius's envoy spoke of his two imperial
masters, Licinius and Valens, Constantine retorted
that he recognised but one, and bluntly stated that
he had not endured tedious marches and won a
succession of victories, only to share the prize with
a contemptible slave. Licinius sacrificed his lieu-
tenant without compunction and consented to hand
over to Constantine Illyria and its legions, with the
important provinces of Pannonia, Dalmatia, Moesia,
and Dacia. The only foothold left him on the Con-
tinent of Europe, out of all that had previously been
included in the eastern half of the Empire, was the
province of Thrace.

At the same time, the two Emperors agreed to
elevate their sons to the rank of Caesar. Constan-
tine bestowed the dignity upon Crispus, the son of
his first marriage with Minervina. Crispus was now
in the promise of early manhood, and had proved
his valour, and won his spurs in the recent campaign.
Licinius gave the title to his son Licinianus, an infant

The Downfall of Licinius 123

no more than twenty months old. These appoint-
ments are important, for they shew how completely
the system of Diocletian had broken down. The Em-
perors appointed Caesars out of deference to the
letter of that constitution, but they outrageously
violated its spirit by appointing their own sons, and
when the choice fell on an infant, insult was added
to injury. It was plain warning to all the world
that Constantine and Licinius meant to keep power
in their own hands. When, a few years later, three
sons were born to Constantine and Fausta in quick
succession, the eldest, who was given the name of
his father, was created Caesar shortly after his birth.
No doubt the Empress — herself an Emperor's
daughter — demanded that her son should enjoy
equal rank with the son of the low-born Minervina,
and the probabilities are that Constantine already
looked forward to providing the young Princes with
patrimonies carved out of the territory of Licinius.
However, there was no actual rupture between the
two Emperors until 323, though relations had long
been strained.

We know comparatively little of what took place
in the intervening years. They were not, however,
years of unbroken peace. There was fighting both
on the Danube and the Rhine. The Goths and
the Sarmatae, who had been taught such a severe
lesson by Claudius and Aurelian that they had left
the Danubian frontier undisturbed for half a century,
again surged forward and swept over Moesia and
Pannonia. We hear of several hard-fought battles
along the course of the river, and then, when Con-

124 Constantine

stantine, at the head of his legions, had driven out
the invader, he himself crossed the Danube and
compelled the barbarians to assent to a peace
whereby they pledged themselves to supply the
Roman armies, when required, with forty thousand
auxiliaries. The details of this campaign are ex-
ceedingly obscure and untrustworthy. The Pane-
gyrists of the Emperor claimed that he had repeated
the triumphs of Trajan. Constantine himself is
represented by the mocking Julian as boasting that
he was a greater general than Trajan, because it is
a finer thing to win back what you have lost than
to conquer something which was not yours before.
The probabilities are that there took place one of
those alarming barbarian movements from which
the Roman Empire was never long secure, that Con-
stantine beat it back successfully, and gained vic-
tories which were decisive enough at the moment,
but in which there was no real finality, because
no finality was possible. Probably it was the seri-
ousness of these Gothic and Sarmatian campaigns
which was chiefly responsible for the years of peace
between Constantine and Licinius. Until the bar-
barian danger had been repelled, Constantine was
perforce obliged to remain on tolerable terms with
the Emperor of the East.

While the father was thus engaged on the Danube,
the son was similarly employed on the Rhine. The
young Caesar, Crispus, already entrusted with the
administration of Gaul and Britain and the command
of the Rhine legions, won a victory over the Al-
emanni in a winter campaign and distinguished

The Downfall of Licinius 125

himself by the skill and rapidity with which he exe-
cuted a long forced march despite the icy rigours
of a severe season. It is Nazarius, the Panegyrist,
who refers* in glowing sentences to this admirable
performance — carried through, he says, with " in-
credibly youthful verve" {incredibili jiivenilitate
confecit), — and praises Crispus to the skies as " the
most noble Caesar of his august father." When
that speech was delivered on the day of the Quin-
quennalia of the Caesars in 321, Constantine's ears
did not yet grudge to listen to the eulogies of his
gallant son.

But there is one omission from the speech which
is exceedingly significant. It contains no mention
of Licinius, and no one reading the oration would
gather that there were two Emperors or that the
Empire was divided. Evidently, Constantine and
Licinius were no longer on good terms, and none
knew better than the Panegyrists of the Court the
art of suppressing the slightest word or reference
that might bring a frown to the brow of their im-
perial auditor. But even two years before, in 319,
the names of Licinius and the boy, Caesar Licini-
anus, had ceased to figure on the consular Fasti —
a straw which pointed very clearly in which direc-
tion the wind was blowing.

Zosimus attributes the war to the ambition of
Constantine; Eutropius roundly accuses f him of
having set his heart upon acquiring the sovereignty

* Pan. Vet.,x., 36.

f Eutropius, X. , 5 : PrincipaHim totius orbis adfectans.

1 26 Constantine

of the whole world. On the other hand, Eusebius *
depicts Constantine as a magnanimous monarch, the
very pattern of humanity, long suffering of injury,
and forgiving to the point of seventy times seven
the ungrateful intrigues of the black-hearted Licinius.
According to the Bishop of Caesarea, Constantine
had been the benefactor of Licinius, who, con-
scious of his inferiority, plotted in secret until he
was driven into open enmity. But it is very evident
that the reason of Eusebius's enmity to Licinius was
the anti-Christian policy into which the Emperor
had drifted, as soon as he became estranged from
Constantine. A more detailed description of Li-
cinius's religious policy and of the new persecution
which broke out in his provinces will be found in
another chapter ; here we need only point out
Eusebius's anxiety to represent the cause of the
quarrel between the Emperors as being in the main
a religious one. He tells usf that Licinius re-
garded as traitors to himself those who were friendly
to his rival, and savagely attacked the bishops, who,
as he judged, were his most bitter opponents. The
phrase, not without reason, has given rise to the
suspicion that the Christian bishops of the East
were regarded as head centres of political disaffec-
tion, and Licinius evidently suspected them of
preaching treason and acting as the agents of Con-
stantine. We have not sufificient data to enable us
to draw any sure inference, but the bishops could
not help contrasting the liberality of Constantine to
the Church, of which he was the open champion,
*Euseb., De Vita Const., i., 50, \Ibid., i., 56,

The Downfall of Licinius 127

with the reactionary poHcy of Licinius, which had at
length culminated in active persecution.

But the dominant cause of this war is to be found
in political ambitions rather than in religious pas-
sions, and if we must declare who of the two was
the aggressor, it is difficult to escape throwing the
blame upon Constantine. Licinius was advancing
in years. Even if he had not outlived his am-
bitions, he can at least have had little taste for a
campaign in which he put all to the venture. Con-
stantine, on the other hand, was in the prime of life,
and the master of a well tried, disciplined, and
victorious army. The odds were on his side. He
had all the legions which could be spared from the
Rhine and the Danube, and all the auxiliaries from
the Illyrian and Pannonian provinces — the best
recruiting grounds in the Empire — to oppose to the
legions of Syria and Egypt. Constantine doubtless
seemed to the bishops to be entering the field as the
champion of the Church, but the real prize which
drew him on was universal dominion.

This time both Emperors exerted themselves to
make tremendous preparations for the struggle.
Zosimus describes how Constantine began a new
naval harbour at Thessalonica to accommodate the
two hundred war galleys and two thousand trans-
ports which he had ordered to be built in his dock-
yards. He mobilised, if Zosimus is to be trusted,
120,000 infantry and 10,000 marines and cavalry.
Licinius, on the other hand, is said to have collected
150,000 foot and 15,000 horse. Whether these
numbers are trustworthy or not, it is evident that

128 Constantine

the two Emperors did their best to throw every
available man into the plain of Adrianople, where
the two hosts were separated by the river Hebrus.
Some days were spent in skirmishing and manoeu-
vring; then on July 3, 323, a decisive action was
brought on, which ended in the rout of the army of
Licinius. Constantine, whose tactical dispositions
seem to have been more skilful than those of Li-
cinius, secretly detached a force of 5000 archers to
occupy a position in the rear of the enemy, and
these used their bows with overwhelming effect at a
critical moment of the action, when Constantine
himself, at the head of another detachment, suc-
ceeded in forcing a passage of the river. Constan-
tine received a slight wound in the thigh, but he
had the satisfaction of seeing the enemy driven from
their fortified camp and betake themselves in hur-
ried flight to the sheltering walls of Byzantium,
leaving 34,000 dead and wounded on the field
of battle.

Byzantium was a stronghold which had fallen be-
fore Maximin after a siege of eleven days, but we
may suppose that Licinius had looked well to its
fortifications with a view to such an emergency as
that in which he now found himself. He placed,
however, his chief reliance in his fleet, which was
nearly twice as numerous as that of Constantine.
Licinius had assembled 350 ships of war, levied, in
accordance with the practice of Rome, from the mar-
itime countries of Asia and Egypt. No fewer than
130 came from Egypt and Libya, 1 10 from Phoenicia
and Cyprus, and a similar quota from the ports of

The Downfall of Licinius 129

Cilicia. Ionia, and Bithynia. The galleys were prob-
ably in good fighting trim, but the service was not a
willing one, and the fleet was as badly handled as
it was badly stationed. Amandus, the admiral of
Licinius, had kept his ships cooped up in the
narrow Hellespont, thus acting weakly on the defen-
sive instead of boldly seeking out the enemy. Con-
stantine entrusted the chief command of his various
squadrons to his son Crispus, whose only experience
of naval matters had probably been obtained from
the manoeuvres of the war galleys on the Rhine. But
a Roman general was supposed to be able to take
command on either element as circumstances re-
quired. In the present case Crispus more than justi-
fied his father's choice. He was ordered to attack
and destroy Amandus, and the peremptoriness of
the order was doubtless due to the difficulty of ob-
taining supplies for so large an army by land trans-
port only. Two actions were fought on two successive
days. In the first Amandus had both wind and cur-
rent in his favour and made a drawn battle of it.
The next day the wind had veered round to the
south, and Crispus, closing with the enemy, destroyed
130 of their vessels and 5000 of their crews. The
passage of the Hellespont was forced ; Amandus
with the remainder of his fleet fled back to the shel-
ter of Byzantium, and the straits were open for the
passage of Constantine's transports.

The Emperor pushed the siege with energy, and
plied the walls so vigorously with his engines that
Licinius, aware that the capitulation of Byzantium
could not long be postponed, crossed over into Asia

1 30 Constantine

to escape being involved in its fate. Even then he
was not utterly despondent of success, for he raised
one of his lieutenants, Martinianus, to the dignity of
Caesar or Augustus — a perilous distinction for any
recipient with the short shrift of Valens before his
eyes — and, collecting what troops he could, he set
his fleet and army to oppose the crossing of Con-
stantine when Byzantium had fallen. But holding
as he did the command of the sea, the victor found
no difficulty in effecting a landing at Chrysopolis,
and Licinius's last gallant effort to drive back the in-
vader was repulsed with a loss of 25,000 men. Euse-
bius, in an exceptionally foolish chapter, declares
that Licinius harangued his troops before the battle,
bidding them carefully keep out of the way of the
sacred Labarum, under which Constantine moved to
never-failing victory, or, if they had the mischance
to come near it in the press of battle, not to look
heedlessly upon it. He then goes on to ascribe the
victory not to the superior tactical dispositions of his
chief or to the valour of his men, but simply and solely
to the fact that Constantine was " clad in the breast-
plate of reverence and had ranged over against the
numbers of the enemy the salutary and life-giving
sign, to inspire his foes with terror and shield himself
from harm." * We suspect, indeed, that far too little
justice has been done to the good generalship of
Constantine, who, by his latest victory, brought to
a close a brilliant and entirely successful campaign
over an Emperor whose stubborn powers of resist-

* De Vita Const., ii., i6. rd 6wrr}fnov xdi 'QoaoTCoiov 6t]IJ.£ioVf
S^TCep ti q)6(irjTpov xdi xaHcSv djuvyrrjpiov.

The Downfall of Licinius 131

Tance and dauntless energy even in defeat rendered

/^him a most formidable opponent.

Licinius fell back upon Nicomedia. His army
was gone. There was no time to beat up new re-
cruits, for the conqueror was hard upon his heels.
He had to choose, therefore, between suicide, sub-
mission, and flight. He would perhaps have best
consulted his fame had he chosen the proud Roman
way out of irreparable disaster and taken his life.
Instead he begged that life might be spared him.
The request would have been hopeless, and would
probably never have been made, had he not pos-
sessed in his wife, Constantia, a very powerful advo-
cate with her brother. Constantia's pleadings were
effectual : Constantine consented to see his beaten
antagonist, who came humbly into his presence, laid
his purple at the victor's feet, and sued for life from
the compassion of his master. It was a humiliating
and an un-Roman scene. Constantine promised
forgiveness, admitted the suppliant to the Imperial
table, and then relegated him to Thessalonica to
spend the remainder of his days in obscurity. Li-
cinius did not long survive. Later historians, anx-
ious to clear Constantine's character of every stain,
accused Licinius of plotting against the generous
Emperor who had spared him. Others declared
that he fell in a soldiers' brawl : one even says that
the Senate passed a decree devoting him to death.
It is infinitely more probable that Constantine
repented of his clemency. No Roman Emperor
seems to have been able to endure for long the
existence of a discrowned rival, however impotent

132 Constantine

to harm. Eutropius expressly states that Licinius
was put to death in violation of the oath which Con-
stantine had sworn to him.* Eusebius says not a
word of Licinius's life having been promised him;
he only remarks, " Then Constantine, dealing with
the accursed of GOD and his associates according to
the rules of war, handed them over to fitting pun-
ishment." f A pretty euphemism for an act of
assassination !

So died Licinius, unregretted by any save the
zealous advocates of paganism, in the city where he
himself had put to death those two hapless ladies,
Prisca and Valeria. The best character sketch of
him is found in Aurelius Victor, who describes him
as grasping and avaricious, rough in manners and of
excessively hasty temper, and a sworn foe to culture,
which he used to say was a public poison and pest
{virus et pestem publicum), notably the culture
associated with the study and practice of the law.
Himself of the humblest origin, he was a good friend
to the small farmers' interests ; while he was a mar-
tinet of the strictest type in all that related to the
army. He detested the paraphernalia of a court, in
which Constantine delighted, and Aurelius Victor
says that he made a clean sweep {vehemens domitor)
of all eunuchs and chamberlains, whom he described
as the moths and shrew-mice of the palace {tineas
soricesque palatii). Of his religious policy we shall
speak elsewhere ; of his reign there is little to be
said. It has left no impress upon history, and Li-

* Contra religionem sacramenti occisus est, x. , 6,
\De Vita Const., ii., i8.

The Downfall of Licinius 133

cinius is only remembered as the Emperor whose
misfortune it was to stand in the way of Constantino
and his ambitions. Constantine threw down his
statues ; revoked his edicts ; and if he spared his
young son, the Caesar Licinianus, the clemency was
due to affection for the mother, not to pity for the
child. Martinianus, the Emperor at most of a few
weeks, had been put to death after the defeat of
Chrysopolis, and Constantine reigned alone with his
sons. The Roman Empire was united once more.

CHAPTER VIII

LAST DAYS OF PERSECUTION

IN a previous chapter we gave a brief account of
the terrible sufferings inflicted upon the Church
during the persecution which followed the edicts of
Diocletian. They continued for many years almost
without interruption, but with varying intensity.
When, for example, Diocletian celebrated his Vicen-
nalia a general amnesty was proclaimed which must
have opened the prison doors to many thousands of
Christians. Eusebius expressly states that the am-
nesty was for " all who were in prison the world
over," and there is no hint that liberty was made con-
ditional upon apostasy. None the less, it is certain
that a great number of Christians were still kept in
the cells— on the pretext that they were specially
obnoxious to the civil power — by governors of strong
anti-Christian bias. The sword of persecution was
speedily resumed and wielded as vigorously as before
down to the abdication of Diocletian and Maximian.
Then came another lull. With Constantius as the
senior Augustus the persecution came to an end in
the West, and even in the East there was an interval
of peace. For Maximin, who was soon to develop
134

Last Days of Persecution 135

into the most ferocious of all the persecutors, — so St.
Jerome speaks of him in comparison with Decius and
Diocletian, — gave a brief respite to the Christians in
his provinces of Egypt, Cihcia, Palestine, and Syria.

" When I first visited the East," Maximin wrote, *
some years later, in referring to his accession, " I found
that a great number of persons who might have been useful
to the State had been exiled to various places by the
judges. I ordered each one of these judges no longer to
press hardly upon the provincials, but rather to exhort
them by kindly words to return to the worship of the
gods. While my orders were obeyed by the magistrates,
no one in the countries of the East was exiled or ill-
treated, but the provincials, won over by kindness, re-
turned to the worship of the gods."

Direct contradiction is given to this boast as to
the number of Christian apostates by the fact that,
within a twelvemonth, the new Caesar grew tired of
seeking to kill Christianity by kindness and revoked
his recent rescript of leniency. Maximin developed
into a furious bigot. He fell wholly under the influ-
ence of the more fanatical priests and became in-
creasingly devoted to magic, divination, and the black
arts. Lactantius declares that not a joint appeared
at his table which had not been taken from some
victim sacrificed by a priest at an altar and drenched
with the wine of libation. Edict followed edict in
rapid succession, until, in the middle of 306, what
Eusebius describes as "a second declaration of war"
was issued, which ordered every magistrate to compel

* Eusebius, Hist. Eccles., ix., 9.

136 Constantine

all who lived within his jurisdiction to sacrifice to
the gods on pain of being burnt alive. House to
house visitations were set on foot that no creature
might escape, and the common informer was encour-
aged by large rewards to be active in his detestable
occupation. It would seem indeed as if the Christ-
ians in the provinces of Maximin suffered far more
severely than any of their brethren. The most
frightful bodily mutilations were practised. Batches
of Christians were sentenced to work in the porphyry
mines of Egypt or the copper mines of Phaenos in
Palestine, after being hamstrung and having their
right eyes burnt out with hot irons. The evidence
of Lactantius, who says that the confessors had their
eyes dug out, their hands and feet amputated, and
their nostrils and ears cut off, is corroborated by
Eusebius and the authors of the Passions.

Palestine seems to have had two peculiarly brutal
governors, Urbanus and Firmilianus. The latter in
a single day presided at the execution of twelve
Christians, pilgrims from Egypt on their way to suc-
cour the unfortunate convicts in the copper mines
of Palestine, whose deplorable condition had awak-
ened the active sympathy of the Christian East.
These bands of pilgrims had to pass through Cae-
sarea, where the officers of Firmilianus were on the
watch for them, and as soon as they confessed that
they were Christians they were haled before the
tribunal, where their doom was certain. A distin-
guishing feature of the persecution in the provinces
of Maximin was the frequency of outrages upon
Christian women and the fortitude with which many

Last Days of Persecution 137

of the victims committed suicide rather than suffer
pollution. The story of St. Pelagia of Antioch is
typical. Maximin sent some soldiers to conduct
her to his palace. They found her alone in her
house and announced their errand. With perfect
composure this girl of fifteen asked permission to re-
tire in order to change her dress, and then, mount-
ing to the roof, threw herself down into the street
below. Eusebius, himself an eye-witness of this per-
secution, gives many a vivid story of the fury of
Maximin and his officials, and of the cold-blooded
calculation with which he sought to draw new vic-
tims into the net of the law. In 308 he issued an
edict ordering every city and village thoroughly to
repair any temple which, for whatever reason, had
been allowed to fall into ruins. He increased ten-
fold the number of priesthoods, and insisted upon
daily sacrifices. The magistrates were again strictly
enjoined to compel men, women, children, and slaves
alike to offer sacrifice and partake of the sacrificial
food. All goods exposed for sale in the public
markets were to be sprinkled with lustra! water, and
even at the entrance to the public baths, officials
were to be placed to see that no one passed through
the doors without throwing a few grains of incense
on the altar. Maximin, in short, was a religious
bigot, who combined with a zealous observance of
pagan ritual a consuming hatred of Christianity.

There are not many records of what was taking
place in the provinces of Galerius, while Maximin
was thus terrorising Syria and Egypt. But the
Emperor had begun to see that the persecution,

{

138 Constantine

upon which he had entered with such zest some
years before, was bound to end in failure. The ter-
rible malady which attacked him in 310 would tend
to confirm his forebodings. Like Antiochus Epi-
phanius, Herod the Great, and Herod Agrippa,
Galerius became, before death released him from his
agony, a putrescent and loathsome spectacle. His
physicians could do nothing for him. Imploring
deputations were sent to beg the aid of Apollo and
^sculapius. Apollo prescribed a remedy, but the
application only left the patient worse, and Lactan-
tius quotes with powerful effect the lines from Vir-
gil which describe Laocoon in the toils of the ser-
pents, raising horror-stricken cries to Heaven, like
some wounded bull as it flies bellowing from the
altar. Was it when broken by a year's constant an-
guish that Galerius exclaimed that he would restore
the temple of God and make amends for his sin?
Was he, as Lactantius says, " compelled to confess
GOD " ? Whether that be so or not, here is the re-
markable edict which the shattered Emperor found
strength to dictate. It deserves to be given in full :

" Among the measures which we have constantly taken
for the well-being and advantage of the State, we had
wished to regulate everything according to the ancient
laws and public discipline of the Romans, and especially
to provide that the Christians, who had abandoned the
religion of their ancestors, should return to a better frame
of mind.

" For, from whatever reason, these Christians were the
victims of such wilfulness and folly that they not only
refused to follow the ancient customs, which very likely

Last Days of Persecution 139

their own forefathers had instituted, but they made laws
for themselves according to their fancy and caprice,
and gathered together all kinds of people in different
places.

" Eventually, when our commands had been published
that they should conform to long established custom,
many submitted from fear, and many more under the
compulsion of punishment.

" But since the majority have obstinately held out and
we see that they neither give the gods their worship and
due, nor yet adore the God of the Christians, we have
taken into consideration our unexampled clemency and
followed the dictation of the invariable mercifulness,
which we shew to all men.

/ " We have, therefore, thought it best to extend even to
\these people our fullest indulgence and to give* them
^fleave once more to be Christians, and rebuild their
/meeting places, provided that they do nothing contrary
(to discipline.

" In another letter we shall make clear to the magis-
trates the course which they should pursue.
/^ "In return for our indulgence the Christians will, in
\duty bound, pray to their God for our safety, for their
yown, and for that of the State, that so the State may
^everywhere be safe and prosperous, and that they them-
/selves may dwell in security in their homes."

This extraordinary edict was issued at Nicomedia
on the last day of April, 311. It is as abject a con-
fession of failure as could be expected from an
Emperor. Galerius admits that the majority of

*Ut denuo sint Christiani et conve7iticula cojiiponant, ita ut ne
quid contra disciplinam agant.

I40 Constantine

Christians have stubbornly held to their faith in spite
of bitter persecution, and now, as they are deter-
mined to sin against the light and follow their own
caprice, more in sorrow than in anger, he will
recognise their status as Christians and give them
the right of assembly, provided they do not offend
against public discipline. But the special interest
of this edict lies in the Emperor's request that the
Christians will pray for him, in the despairing hope
■ that Christ may succeed, where Apollo has failed,
in finding a remedy for his grievous case. Galerius
was ready to clutch at any passing straw.

The edict bore the names of Galerius, of Constan-
tine, and of Licinius. Maxentius, who at this time
ruled Italy, was not recognised by Galerius, so the
absence of his name causes no surprise. Maximin's
name is also absent, but we find one of his praefects,
Sabinus, addressing shortly afterwards a circular
letter to all the Governors of Cilicia, Syria, and
Egypt, in which the signal was given to stop the
persecution. Like Galerius, Maximin declared that
the sole object of the Emperors had been to lead all
men back to a pious and regular life, and to restore
to the gods those who had embraced alien rites con-
trary to the spirit of the institutions of Rome. Then
the letter continued :

" But since the mad obstinacy of certain people has
reached such a pitch that they are not to be shaken
in their resolution either by the justice of the imperial
command or by the fear of imminent punishment, and
since, actuated by these motives, a very large number
have brought themselves into positions of extreme peril,

Last Days of Persecution 141

it has pleased their Majesties in their great pity and
compassion to send this letter to your Excellency,

"Their instructions are that if any Christian has been
apprehended, while observing the religion of his sect,
you are to deliver him from all molestation and annoy-
ance and not to inflict any penalty upon him, for a very
long experience has convinced the Emperors that there
is no method of turning these people from their madness.

" Your Excellency will therefore write to the magis-
trates, to the commander of the forces, and to the town
provosts, in each city, that they may know for the future
that they are not to interfere with the Christians any
more."

In other words, the prisons were to be emptied
and the mad sectaries to be let alone. The bigot
was obliged to bow, however reluctantly, to the
wishes and commands of the senior Augustus, even
though Galerius was a broken and dying man.

Nevertheless, within six months we find Maximin
devising new schemes for troubling the Christians.
Eusebius tells us with what joy the edict of tolera-
tion had been welcomed, with what triumph the
Christians had quitted their prisons, and with what
enthusiastic exultation the bands of Christian con-
fessors, returning from the mines to their own towns
and villages, were received by the Christian com-
munities in the places through which they passed.
Those whose testimony to their faith had not been so
sure and clear, those who had bowed the knee to Baal
under the shadow of torture and death, humbly ap-
proached their stouter-hearted brethren and implored
their intercession. The Church rose from the

142 Constantine

persecution proudly and confidently, and with in-
credible speed renewed its suspended services and
repaired its broken organisation. Maximin issued an
order forbidding Christians to assemble after dark in
their cemeteries, as they had been in the habit of
doing, in order to celebrate the victory of their mar-
tyrs over death. Such assemblies, the Emperor
said, were subversive of morality: they were to be
allowed no more. This must have warned the Chris-
tians how little rehance was to be placed in the
promises of Maximin, and shortly afterwards they had
another warning. Maximin made a tour through his
provinces and in several cities received petitions in
which he was urged to give an order for the absolute
expulsion of all Christians. No doubt it was known
that such a request would be well pleasing to Maximin,
but at the same time it undoubtedly points to the ex-
istence of a strong anti-Christian feeling. At Antioch,
which was under the governorship of Theotecnus, the
petitioners, according to Eusebius, said that the ex-
pulsion of the Christians would be the greatest boon
the Emperor could confer upon them, but the full
text of one of these petitions has been found among
the ruins of a small Lycian township of the name of
Aricanda. It runs as follows:

" To the Saviours of the entire human race, to the au-
gust Caesars, Galerius Valerius Maximinus. Flavius
Valerius Constantinus, Valerius Licinianus Licinius, this
petition is addressed by the people of the Lycians and
the Pamphylians.

" Inasmuch as the gods, your congeners, O divine

Last Days of Persecution 143

Emperor, have always crowned with their manifest
favours those who have their reUgion at heart and
offer prayers to them for the perpetual safety of our
invincible masters, we have thought it well to approach
your immortal Majesty and to ask that the Christians,
who for years have been impious and do not cease to be
so, may be finally suppressed and transgress no longer,
by their wicked and innovating cult, the respect that is
owing to the gods.

" This result would be attained if their impious rites
were forbidden and suppressed by your divine and eter-
nal decree, and if they were compelled to practise the
cult of the gods, your congeners, and pray to them on
behalf of your eternal and incorruptible Majesty. This
would clearly be to the advantage and profit of all your
subjects."

Eusebius records two replies of the Emperor to
petitions of this character. One is contained in a
letter to his praefect, Sabinus, and relates to Nico-
media. The other is a document copied by Eusebius
from a bronze tablet set up on a column in Tyre.
Maximin expatiates at great length on the debt
which men owe to the gods, and especially to Jupiter,
the presiding deity of Tyre, for the ordered succes-
sion of the seasons, and for keeping within their ap-
pointed bounds the overwhelming forces of Nature.
If there have been calamities and cataclysms, to
what else, he asks, can they be attributed than to
the " vain and pestilential errors of the villainous
Christians ? " Those who have apostatised and have
been delivered from their blindness are like people
who have escaped from a furious storm or have been

144 Constantine

cured of some deadly malady. To them life offers
once more its bounteous blessings. Then the Em-
peror continues:

" But if they still persist in their detestable errors, they
shall be banished, in accordance with your petition, far
from your city and your territory, that so this city of
Tyre, completely purified, as you most properly desire it
to be, may yield itself wholly to the worship of the gods.

"But that you may know how agreeable your petition
has been to us, and how, even without petition on your
part, we are disposed to heap favours upon you, we grant
you in advance any favour you shall ask, however great,
in reward for your piety.

" Ask, therefore, and receive, and do so without hesita-
tion. The benefit which shall accrue to your city will
be a perpetual witness of your devotion to the gods."

Evidently the Christians had not yet come to the
end of their troubles. Those who read this circular
letter, for it seems to have been sent round from city
to city, must have expected the persecution to break
out anew at any moment. We do not know to what
extent the edict was observed. If it had been
generally acted upon, we should certainly have heard
more of it, inasmuch as it must have entailed a wide-
spread exodus from the provinces of Maximin. But
of this there is no evidence. We imagine rather that
this circular was merely a preliminary sharpening of
the sword in order to keep the Christians in a due
state of apprehension.

Maximin, however, continued his anti-Christian
propaganda with unabated zeal, and with greater

Last Days of Persecution 145

cunning and better devised system than before. His
court at Antioch was the gathering place of all the
priests, magicians, and thaumaturgists of the East,
who found in him a generous patron. We hear of a
new deity being invented by Theotecnus, or rather
of an old deity being invested with new attributes.
Zeus Philios, or Jupiter the Friendly was the name
of this god, to whom a splendid statue was erected
in Antioch, and to whose shrine a new priesthood,
with new rites, was solemnly dedicated. The god
was provided with an attendant oracle to speak in
his name ; what more natural than that the first re-
sponse should order the banishment of all Christians
from the city ? Very noteworthy, too, was the re-
appearance of a vigorous anti-Christian literature.
Maximin set on his pamphleteers to write libellous
parodies of the Christian doctrines and encouraged
the more serious controversialists on the pagan
side to attack the Christian religion wherever it was
most vulnerable. The most famous of these produc-
tions was one which bore the name of The Acts of
Pilate and purported to be a relation by Pilate
himself of the life and conduct of Christ. It was
really an old pamphlet rewritten and brought up to
date, full, as Eusebius says, of all conceivable bias-
phemy against Christ and reducing Him to the level
of a common malefactor. Maximin welcomed it
with delight. He had thousands of copies written
and distributed ; extracts were cut on brass and
stone and posted up in conspicuous places ; the work
was appointed to be read frequently in public, and —
what shews most of all the fury and cunning of

146 Constantine

Maximin — it was appointed to be used as a text-book
in schools throughout Asia and Egypt. There was
no more subtle method of training bigots and poi-
soning the minds of the younger generation amongst
Christianity. Some of the Emperor's devices, how-
ever, were much more crude. For example, the
military commandant of Damascus arrested half a
dozen notorious women of the town and threatened
them with torture if they did not confess that they
were Christians, and that they had been present at
ceremonies of the grossest impurity in the Christian
assemblies. Maximin ordered the precious confes-
sion thus extorted to be set up in a prominent place
in every township.

But the Emperor was not merely a furious bigot.
There is evidence that he fully recognised the won-
derful strength of the Christian ecclesiastical organ-
isation and contrasted it with the essential weakness
of the pagan system. In this he anticipated the
Emperor Julian. Paganism was anything but a
church. Its framework was loose and disconnected.
There were various colleges of priests, some of
which were powerful and had branches throughout
the Empire, but there was little connection between

tem save that of a common ritual. There was also
tie doctrine save in the special mysteries, where
embership was preceded by formal initiation,
aximin sought to institute a pagan clergy based
upon the Christian model, with a definite hierarchy
from the highest to the lowest. There were already
chief priests of the various provinces, who had borne
for long the titles of Asiarch, Pontarch, Galatarch,

Last Days of Persecution 147

and Ciliciarch in their respective provinces. Maximin
developed their powers on the model of those of the
Christian bishops, giving them authority over sub-
ordinates and entrusting them with the duty of
seeing that the sacrifices were duly and regularly
offered. He tried to raise the standard of the priest-
hood by choosing its members from the best families,
by insisting on the priests wearing white flowing
robes, by giving them a guard of soldiers and full
powers of search and arrest.

Evidently, Maximin was something more than
the lustful, bloodthirsty tyrant who appears in
the pages of Lactantius and the ecclesiastical his-
torians. He dealt the Church much shrewder —
though not less ineffectual — blows than his col-
leagues in persecution. With such an Emperor
another appeal to the faggot and the sword was
inevitable, and the death of Galerius was the
signal for a renewal of the persecution. This time
Maximin struck directly at the most conspicuous
figures in the Christian Church and counted among
his victims Peter, the Patriarch of Alexandria, and
three other Egyptian bishops — Methodus, Bishop of
Tyre, Basiliscus, Bishop of Comana in Bithynia, and
Silvanus, Bishop of Emesa in Phoenicia. In Egypt
the persecution was so sharp that it drew Saint
Antony from his hermit's cell in the desert to suc-
cour the unfortunate in Alexandria. He escaped
with his life, probably because he was overlooked or
disdained, or because the mighty influence which he
was to exercise upon the Church had not yet declared
itself. This persecution was followed by a terrible

148 Constantine

drought, famine, and pestilence. Eusebius,* in a
vigorous chapter, describes how parents were driven
by hunger to sell not only their lands but also their
children, how whole families Avere wiped out, how
the pestilence seemed to mark down the rich for its
special vengeance, and how in certain townships the
inhabitants were driven to kill all the dogs within
their walls that they might not feed on the bodies of
the unburied dead. Amid these horrors the Christ-
ians alone remained calm. They alone displayed the
supreme virtue of charity in tending the suffering and
ministering to the dying. From the pagans them-
selves, says Eusebius, was wrung the unwilling admis-
sion that none but the Christians, in the sharp test
of adversity, shewed real piety and genuine worship
of God.t

Maximin's reign, however, was fast drawing to a
close. After becoming involved in a war with Tiri-
dates of Armenia, from which he emerged with little
credit to himself, he entered into an alliance with
Maxentius, the ruler of Italy, against Constantine
and Licinius, but did not invade the territory
of the latter until Maxentius had already been over-
thrown. As we have seen, Maximin was utterly
routed and, after a hurried flight to beyond the
Taurus, he there, according to Eusebius,:}: gathered
together his erstwhile trusted priests, thaumaturgists,
and soothsayers, and slew them for the proved false-

* Hist. Eccles., ix., 8.

\ Evds/3si'; rs ndt /novov? Bsods/SEi'^ Tovvovi dXr/QcSi, itpoi
avTtav kXEyx^£VTa<i t(Sv Ttpayf-idrcov, o/iioXoyeiv,
I Hist. Eccles., ix., 10.

Last Days of Persecution 149

hood of their prophecy. More significant still, when
he found that his doom was certain, he issued a last
religious edict in the vain hope of appeasing the
resentment of the Christians and their God. The
document is worth giving in full:

" The Emperor Caesar Caius Valerius Maximinus, Ger-
manicus, Sarmaticus, pious, happy, invincible, august.

" We have always endeavoured by all means in our
power to secure the advantage of those who dwell in our
provinces, and to contribute by our benefits at once to
the prosperity of the State and to the well-being of every
citizen. Nobody can be ignorant of this, and we are
confident that each one who puts his memory to the test,
is persuaded of its truth.

" We found, however, some time ago that, in virtue of
the edict published by our divine parents, Diocletian and
Maximian, ordering the destruction of the places where
the Christians were in the habit of assembling, many
excesses and acts of violence had been committed by our
public servants and that the evil was being increasingly
felt by our subjects every day, inasmuch as their goods
were, under this pretext, unwarrantably seized.

"Consequently,we declared last year by letters addressed
to the Governors of the Provinces that if any one wished
to attach himself to this sect and practise this religion, he
should be allowed to please himself without interference
and no one should say him nay, and the Christians
should enjoy complete liberty and be sheltered from all
fear and all suspicion.

" However, we have not been able entirely to shut our
eyes to the fact that certain of the magistrates misunder-
stood our instructions, with the result that our subjects
distrusted our words and were nervous about resuming

I50 Constantine

the religion of their choice. That is why, in order to do
away with all disquietude and equivocation for the future,
we have resolved to publish this edict, by which all are
to understand that those who wish to follow this sect
have full liberty to do so, and that, by the indulgence of
our Majesty, each man may practise the religion he pre-
fers or that to which he is accustomed.

" It is also permitted to them to rebuild the houses of
the LORD. Moreover, so that there may be no mistake
about the scope of our indulgence, we have been pleased
to order that all houses and places, formerly belonging
to the Christians, which have either been confiscated by
the order of our divine parents, or occupied by any
municipality, or sold or given away, shall return to their
original ownership, so that all men may recognise our
piety and our solicitude."

The bigot must have been brought very low and
reduced to the last depths of despair before he set
his seal to such a document as this. One can see
that it was drawn up by Maximin with a copy of the
Edict of Milan before him, and that he hoped, by
this tardy and clumsy recognition of the principle of
absolute liberty of conscience for all men, to make
the Christians forget his brutalities. Doubtless, the
Christians of Cilicia and Syria looked to Constantine
in far off Gaul as a model prince and emperor, and
heard with joy of the steady advance of Constantine's
ally, Licinius. The latter would come in their eyes
in the guise of a liberator, and prayers for his success
would be offered up in every Christian church of the
persecuted East. Maximin sought to repurchase their
loyalty : it was too late. His absurd pretext that his

Last Days of Persecution 151

orders had been misunderstood by his provincial
governors would deceive no one. He had been the
shrewdest enemy with whom the Church had had to
cope; his edict of recantation was read with chilly
suspicion or cold contempt, which was changed into
hymns of rejoicing when the Christians heard that
the tyrant had poisoned himself and died in agony,
while his conqueror, Licinius, had drowned the fallen
Empress in the Orontes and put to death her child-
ren, a boy of eight and a girl of seven. Those who
had suffered persecution for ten years may be par-
doned their exultation that there was no one left
alive to perpetuate the names of their persecutors.*
Throughout this time the West had escaped very
lightly. Even Maxentius had begun his reign by
seeking to secure the good-will of the Christians.
Eusebius, indeed, makes the incredible statement f
that in order to please and flatter the Roman people
he pretended to embrace the Christian faith and
" assumed the mask of piety." Probably all he did
was to leave the Christians of Rome in peace. The
chair of St. Peter had remained empty for four years
after the death of Bishop Marcellinus. In 308 Mar-
cellus was elected to fill it and the Church was
organised afresh. But it was rent with internal dis-
sensions. There was a large section which insisted
that the brethren who had been found weak during
the recent persecution should be received back into

* Hoc modo deus universos persecutores nominis siii debellazdt^ ut
eorum nee stirps nee radix ulla remaneret, — De Murt. Per see.,
c. 49.

\ Hist. Eeeles., viii., 14.

152 Constantine

the fold without penance and reproach. Marcellus
stood out for discipline ; the quarrel became so ex-
acerbated that Maxentius exiled the Bishop, who
shortly afterwards died. A priest named Eusebius
was then chosen Pontiff, but the schismatics elected
a Pontiff of their own, Heraclius by name, and the
rival partisans quarrelled and fought in the streets.
Maxentius, with strict impartiality, exiled both.
The record of this schism is preserved in the curious
epitaph composed by Pope Damasus for the tomb
of Eusebius:

"Heraclius forbade the lapsed to bewail their sins;
Eusebius taught them to repent and weep for their
wrong-doing. The people were divided into factions,
raging and furious: then came sedition, bloodshed, war,
discord, strife.* Forthwith both were driven away by
the cruelty of the tyrant. While the Bishop preserved
intact the bonds of peace, he endured his exile gladly
on the Trinacrian shores, knowing that God was his
judge, and so passed from this world and from life."

On the confession of Damasus himself, the state
of the Roman Church warranted the interference of
Maxentius if it resulted in "sedition, bloodshed,
war, discord, and strife," and the " cruelty of the ty-
rant " in this particular case is not proven. Euse-
bius died in Sicily in 310; in the following year
Miltiades was elected Bishop, and Maxentius re-
stored to the Roman Christians their churches and
cemeteries, which for eight years had been in the
hands of the civil authorities.

* Scindittir in partes populus gliscente furore; Seditio, ccsdes, hel-
ium, discordia, lites.

Last Days of Persecution 153

The overthrow of Maxentius by Constantine, the
destruction of Maximin by Licinius, the publication
of the Edict of Milan, and the apparent sincerity of
the two Emperors in their anxiety to restore peace
and security, were naturally hailed by the Christ-
ians throughout the Empire with the liveliest joy.
On every side stately churches began to rise from
the ground, and as the triumph of Christianity over
its enemies was incontestable, converts came flocking
in by the thousand to receive what Eusebius calls
" the mysterious signs of the Saviour's Passion." The
only troublers of the Church were members of the
Church herself, like the extravagant Donatists in
Africa. The canons of the Council of Ancyra, which
was held soon after the death of Maximin, shew
how the ecclesiastical authorities imposed varying
penances upon those who had shrunk from their
duty as soldiers of Christ in the recent persecution,
varying, that is to say, according to the extent
of their shortcomings. Some had apostatised and
themselves turned persecutors ; some had sacrificed
at the first command ; some had endured prison, but
had shrunk from torture; some had suffered torture,
but quailed before the stake ; some had bribed the
executioners only to make a show of torturing them ;
some had attended the sacrificial feasts, but had sub-
stituted other meats. The punishments range from
ten years of probation and every degree of penance,
down to a few months' deprivation of the comforts
and communions of the Church.

New dangers, however, speedily threatened. Con-
stantine and Licinius quarrelled between themselves

154 Constantine

and, after two stubborn battles, agreed upon a fresh
division of the world. For eight years, from 315 to
323, this partition lasted, but, as the Emperors again
drifted apart, Licinius became more and more anti-
Christian. His rivalry with Constantine accounts for
the change. Licinius suspected Constantine of in-
triguing with his Christian subjects just as Constan-
tine regarded the pagan element in-his own provinces
as the natural focus of disaffection against his rule.
Licinius had no definite Christian beliefs ; he had
been the friend and nominee of Galerius ; and, like
Galerius, he never got rid of the suspicion that the
(christian assemblies were a danger to the public
isecurity. The Christians had aided him against
Maximin : he thought they would do the same for
Constantine against himself. Eusebius* likens him
to a twisted snake, wriggling along and concealing
its poisoned fangs, not daring to attack the Church
openly for fear of Constantine, but dealing it con-
stant and insidious blows.

The simile was well chosen. Licinius seems to
have opened his campaign against the Christians by
forbidding the bishops in his provinces to leave their
dioceses and take part in their usual synods and
councils. They were to remain at home, he said,
and mind their own business and not plot treason
against their Emperor under the pretext of perfecting
the discipline of the Church. Another edict, which
came with poor grace from a man whose own
excesses were notorious, forbade Christian men and
women to meet for common worship in their

* De Vita Constant., ii., I.

Last Days of Persecution 155

churches : they were to v/orship apart, so that their
morals might not be exposed to danger. On the same
pretext, bishops and priests were only allowed to give
teaching and consolation to their own sex ; Christian
women must find women teachers and advisers. Eu-
sebius tells us* that these edicts excited universal
ridicule. It was too late to revive the old stories of
gross immorality taking place at the communion
services, and there was fresh cause for mocking laugh-
ter when Licinius forbade the Christians to assemble
in their churches within the towns and ordered them
to go outside the gates and meet, if they must meet,
in the open air. This was necessary, he said, on the
grounds of public health ; the atmosphere beyond
the gates was purer. Licinius's theory of hygiene was
perfectly sound ; its application was ludicrous.

These were the first steps leading, as his subjects
must have known only too well, straight to persecu-
tion. After a time Licinius threw over bodily the
Edict of Milan. He purged his court and his army
in the old way. The choice was sacrifice or dismissal,
and some pretext was usually made to tack on to
of^cial dismissal a confiscation of goods. Licinius,
says Eusebius, thirsted for gold like a very Tanta-
lus. Aurelius Victor saysf he had all the mean,
sordid avarice of a peasant. And the Christians, of
course, were fair game. He pillaged their churches,
robbed them of their goods, sentenced them to exile
and to the mines, or ruined them just as effectually
by insisting on their becoming magistrates. Blood-

* De Vita Constant,, i., 53.

\ Huic parcimonia et ea quidem agrestis.

156 Constantine

shed followed, and Licinius aimed his severest
blows at the bishops. He accused them of omitting
his name in their prayers for the welfare of the Em-
peror and the State, though they carefully remem-
bered that of Constantine ; and, if none were actually
put to death, many suffered imprisonment, torture,
and mutilation. The story of the martyrs and con-
fessors in the Licinian persecution is very like that
of those who suffered under Diocletian and Maximin.
But the fate of the forty soldier martyrs of the
Twelfth Legion {Fidnimatd) deserves special men-
tion. They had refused to sacrifice, and, by order of
their general, were stripped naked and ordered to
remain throughout a winter's night upon a frozen
pond, exposed to the elements. At the side of the
pond was a building, where the water for the town
baths was heated. Apparently no guard was kept.
The martyrs were free to make their way to the
warmth and shelter if they wished it, but only at
the price of apostasy. One of them, after enduring
bravely for many hours, crawled towards the warmth,
but died of exhaustion as soon as he had crossed the
threshold. The sight so affected the pagan attend-
ant of the bath that he flung off his clothes in uncon-
trollable emotion, and with the shout, " I too am a
Christian," took the place of the weak brother who
had just lost the martyr's crown. In the morning
the forty were found dead and their bodies were
burnt at the stake. It was said that one of them
was found to be still breathing, and the executioners
put him apart from the rest. His mother, afraid lest
he should miss entering heaven by the side of his

Last Days of Persecution i57

brave companions in glory, herself placed him in the
cart to be borne to the stake.

Another moving story of the Licinian persecution
is that of Gordius of Caesarea, in Cappadocia. He
had fled from his home to live the life of a hermit
among the mountains, when suddenly an impulse
came upon him to return and testify to the truth.
The people were all assembled in the Circus, intent
upon some public spectacle, when an uncouth figure
was seen to move slowly down the marble steps and
then pass out into the centre of the arena. A hush
fell upon the multitude, as the hermit was recognised
and dragged before the tribunal of the Governor. " I
have come," he said, " to shew how little I think of
your edicts and to confess my faith in Jesus Christ,
and I have chosen this moment, O Governor, be-
cause I know your cruelty, which surpasses that of
all other men." They put him to the torture: he
delighted in his pain. " The more you torture me,"
he said, " the greater will be my reward. There is a
bargain between God and us. Each pang and tor-
ment that we suffer here will be rewarded there by
increased glory and happiness."

Licinius had thus, like Maximin, made himself the
champion of the old religion and the rehgious reac-
tionaries. When in 323 war again broke out between
himself and Constantine, it was as the professed en-^
emy of Christianity and its God that he took the
field. The war was a war of ambition on both sides,
but it was also a war between the two religions. We
have mentioned elsewhere the oath which Licinius
took before the battle, when he vowed that if the

15S Constantine

gods gave him the victory he would extirpate root
and branch the Christian religion. Fate gave him
no opportunity to fulfil his promise. Defeated at
Adrianople and at Chrysopolis, and then exiled to
Thessalonica, Licinius had not many months to
live. Before he died he saw his pagan councillors
pay for their folly with their lives and heard the re-
joicings of the Christians of the East at the fall of
the last of their pagan persecutors. The Church at
last had won her freedom and was to suffer at the
hands of the State no more. Eusebius has fortu-
nately preserved for us the text of the edict addressed
by Constantine after his victory to the inhabitants
of Palestine, recalling from exile, from the mines,
and from servitude the Christian victims of the
recent persecution, restoring their property to those
who had suffered confiscation, offering to soldiers
who had been expelled in disgrace from the army
either a return to their old rank or the certificate
of honourable discharge, and giving back to the
churches without diminution the corporate posses-
sions of which they had been robbed. Constantine
not merely passed the sponge over the administrative
acts of Licinius : he granted large subsidies to the
bishops who had suffered at the hands of " the dra-
gon," and himself wrote to "his dearest beloved
brother," Eusebius of Caesarea, urging him to see
that the bishops, elders, and deacons in his neigh-
bourhood were " active and enthusiastic in the work
of the Church." *

* dTtovSdZeiv Ttepi rd spy a ttSv eHK\rj6i^v, — De Vita Const.
ii., 46.

CHAPTER IX

CONSTANTINE AND THE DONATISTS

IF Constantine hoped that by the Edict of Milan
he had stilled the voice of religious controversy,
he was speedily disillusioned. He was now to find
the peace of the Church violently disturbed by those
belonging to her communions, and the hatreds of
Christians against one another almost as menacing
to the tranquillity of the imperial rule as had been
the bitter strife of pagan and Christian. In the same
year (313) he received an appeal from certain African
bishops imploring him to appoint a commission of
Gallican bishops to settle certain difficulties which
had arisen in Africa. The Donatist schism, which was
destined to last for more than a century, had begun.
Its rise may be traced in a few words. Northern
Africa had long been the home of a perfervid religious
fanaticism. Montanism and Novatianism had found
there their most violent adherents, to whom there
was something peculiarly attractive in extravagant
protest against the laxity or the liberalism of the
Church elsewhere, and in emphatic insistence on the
narrowness of the way which leads to salvation.
Those who set up the most impossible standard of
159

i6o Constantine

attainment ; those who demanded from the Christian
the most absolute spotlessness of life ; those who
insisted most strenuously on the enormity of sin and
made fewest allowances for the weakness of humanity
— these were surest of being heard most gladly in
northern Africa. During the persecution of Dio-
cletian and Maximian many of the African Christians
had ostentatiously courted martyrdom. According
to Catholic authors, such martyrdom had been sought
not only by saints, but by men of immoral and dis-
solute life, who thought to purge the stains of a sinful
career by dying in the odour of sanctity. Others,
again, while not prepared to die for the faith, were
not unwilling to suffer imprisonment for it, inasmuch
as their fellow-Christians looked well after the
creature comforts of those who languished in gaol.
Mensurius, Bishop of Carthage and Primate of Africa,
strongly disapproved of these proceedings. He dis-
countenanced the fanaticism, which he knew to be
the besetting weakness of his people ; refused to
recognise as martyrs those who had provoked death ;
and checked, as far as possible, the indiscriminate
charity of his flock. If his critics are to be believed,
Mensurius had resort to a trick in order to save the
Holy Books of his own cathedral and thus escape
the choice of being a traditor or of suffering for con-
science' sake. It was said that when the ofificers of
the civil power demanded the Holy Books in his
keeping, he handed over to them a number of heretical
volumes, which were at once burnt, while the Sacred
Scriptures were carefully concealed. It is not sur-
prising, therefore, to find that Mensurius was charged

Constantine and the Donatists i6i

with actual persecution of those Christians who had
a sterner sense of duty than himself.

It is manifest, however, from what took place at a
synod of bishops held in Cirta in 305 that many of
the natural leaders of the African Church had quailed
before the persecution of Diocletian. They had
assembled, under the presidency of Secundus, Bishop
of Tigisis and Primate of Numidia, in order to fill
the vacant see of Cirta. Secundus opened the pro-
ceedings by inviting all present to clear themselves
of the charge of having surrendered their Holy
Books, and began to put the question directly to
Teach in turn. Donatus of Mascula returned an
^ evasive answer, and said that he was responsible only
(jio God. Many pleaded that they had substituted
other books for the Scriptures ; Victor of Russicas
alone confessed that he had handed over the Four
Gospels. " Valentinianus, the Curator, himself com-
pelled me to send them," he said ; " pardon me this
fault, even as God pardons me." Then came the
turn of Purpurius, Bishop of Limata. Secundus
accused him not of being a traditor, but of the murder
of two of his nephews. Purpurius stormed with rage.
He vowed that he would not be browbeaten, and
declared that Secundus was no better than his fel-
lows and had purchased his own immunity, like the
rest of them, by surrendering the Scriptures. As for
^ murdering his nephews, the charge was true. " I did
\ kill them," he said,/ and I kill all who stand in my
( way."/ This candid avowal seems to have occasioned
no surprise among the members of this extraordinary
synod ; they were all too indignant with Secundus

1 62 Constantine

for raising inconvenient questions and pretending to
a sanctity beyond his colleagues. Eventually, another
nephew of Secundus threatened that they would all
withdraw from his communion and make a schism
{recedere et scJiisma facere\ unless he let the matter
drop. " What business is it of yours what each has
done ? " asked the outspoken nephew. " It is to God
that each must tender his account." The president
thereupon drew in his horns, pronounced the acquit-
tal of the accused, and with a general murmur of
" Deo gratias^' they proceeded to the election of a
bishop. Their choice fell upon Sylvanus, himself a
traditor, much, it is said, to the indignation of the
people of Cirta, who raised cries of, " He is a traditor :
let another be elected. We want our bishop to be
pure and upright." Sylvanus had surrendered, with-
out even a show of compulsion, one of the sacred
silver lamps from the altar of his church. It is more
than possible that the report of the proceedings at
this synod, which is found only in works written
specifically — but by episcopal hands — against the
Donatists, is highly exaggerated. Among the bishops
present at Cirta were those who, a few years later,
were the principal leaders of the Donatist schism.
But, even when all allowances are made for party
colouring, the picture it gives of the Numidian
Church is far from flattering.

During the life of Mensurius overt schism was
avoided, though the Church of Carthage was by no
means untroubled. For even before the persecution
broke out, a certain lady named Lucilla had fallen
under the censure of the ecclesiastical authorities,

Constantine and the Donatists 163

and had left the fold in high dudgeon. She became
the lady patroness of the malcontent Christians of
Carthage and the prime mover in any ecclesiastical
intrigue that was afoot. She had been wont, before
taking the Eucharist, to kiss the doubtful relic of a
martyr, and she had set greater store on the efificacy
of this unregistered bone than on the virtues of the
sacred chalice. It was not, of course, for relic wor-.
ship that Caecilianus, the Archdeacon, rebuked her,
for the early Church everywhere acknowledged its
lintercessional value, and it was the usual practice for
an officiating priest, before celebrating, to kiss the
relics that were placed on the high altar. Lucilla
was reproved because her relic was not recognised
by the Church.* It was doubtful whether it had be-
longed to a martyr at all, and, in any case, its iden-
tity had not been duly authenticated. But before
Mensurius could deal with this revolted daughter
the tempest of persecution broke over Africa. The
angry and insulting epithets with which the Catholic
historians have loaded Lucilla are perhaps the best
testimony to her ability and influence. She was very
rich and a born intriguante {pecuniosissima et facti-
osissinia), and as she had what she considered to be
a personal insult to avenge, she was as willing as she
was competent to cau.se trouble and mischief.

Shortly before the overthrow of Maxentius, one of
Mensurius's deacons issued a defamatory libel against
the Emperor and then took sanctuary at Carthage.
The Bishop refused to surrender him and was per-

* Os nescio cujus hominis mortui, et si martyris, sed necdum vindi-
cati.

1 64 Constantine

emptorily summoned to Rome. Evidently expect-
ing that the Emperor would condemn him and order
the confiscation of the holy vessels of his church,
Mensurius secretly handed them over to the custody
of certain elders in whose honesty he thought he
could place implicit reliance. But he took the pre-
caution— a wise one, as it subsequently proved — to
make an inventory, which he gave to an old woman,
with instructions that if he did not return she was to
hand it to his lawfully appointed successor. Men-
surius then went to Rome, succeeded in convincing
Maxentius of his innocence, but died on the way
home, in 31 1 A.D. As soon as the news of his death
reached Carthage, the round of intrigue began. Ac-
cording to Optatus, two deacons named Botrus and
Celestius, each hoping to secure his own elevation,
hurried on the election, in which the Numidian
bishops were not invited to take part. The passage
is obscure, for Optatus goes on to say that the choice
fell upon Caecilianus, who was elected " by the suf-
frages of the whole people," and was consecrated in
due form by Felix, Bishop of Aptunga. When
Caecilianus called upon the elders to restore the
Church ornaments, they quitted the Church — the
suggestion of the Catholic historian is that they had
hoped to steal them — and attached themselves to
the faction of Lucilla, together with Botrus and
Celestius, whom St. Augustine roundly denounces
as "impious and sacrilegious thieves." The schism
was now complete. It had its origin, says Optatus,*

* Schisma igitur illo tempore confuses mulieris iracundia peperit,
ambitus nutrivit, avaritia roboravit.

Constantine and the Donatists 165

in the fury of a headstrong woman ; it was nurtured
by intrigue and drew its strength from jealous greed.
Caecihanus' position was speedily challenged. The
malcontents appealed to the Numidian bishops,
urging them to declare in synod whether the elec-
tion was valid. Accordingly, the Numidian Primate,
Secundus of Tigisis, came with seventy other bishops
to the capital, where they were received with open
arms by the opposition party. Caecilianus seated
himself on his throne in the cathedral and waited for
the bishops to appear. When they did not come he
sent a message saying, " If any one has any accusa-
tion to bring against me, let him come to make good
the charge." But the Numidian bishops preferred
to meet elsewhere within closed doors and finally
declared the election of Caecilianus invalid on the
ground that he had been consecrated by a traditor.
To this Caecilianus repHed that, if they thought Fe-
hx of Aptunga had been a traditor, they had better
consecrate him themselves, as though he were still a
simple deacon — a sarcasm which roused the violent
Purpurius to exclaim : " Let him come here to re-
ceive the laying on of hands, and we will strike off
his head by way of penance." They then elected
Majorinus, who had been one of Caecilianus' readers
and was now a member of Lucilla's household.
There were thus two rival bishops of Carthage.
Those who supported Caecihanus called themselves
the Catholic party ; their rivals, until the death of
Majorinus in 3 15, were known as the party of Major-
inus, though their moving spirit seems to have been,
first, Donatus, the Bishop of Casae Nigrae, and, after-

1 66 Constantine

wards, Donatus, surnamed Magnus, who gave his
name to the schism.

Though Africa was thus split into two camps, there
is no evidence that Majorinus was recognised by any
of the churches of Europe, Egypt, or Asia. These
all looked to Caecilianus as the rightful bishop, and
so, when Constantine, fresh from his victory over
Maxentius, wrote to the African churches in 312 to
announce his intention of making a handsome pre-
sent of money to their clergy, it was to Caecilianus
that the letter was addressed, and the schismatics
were rebuked in the sharpest terms. The letter ran
as follows :

"Constantine Augustus to C^cilianus, Bishop of
Carthage.

" Inasmuch as it has pleased us to contribute something
towards the necessary expenses of certain ministers of
the lawful and most holy Catholic religion throughout
all the provinces of Africa, Numidia, and both Maure-
tanias, I have sent letters to Ursus, the most noble gov-
ernor of Africa, and have instructed him to see that
three thousand purses are paid over to your Reverence.
When, therefore, you have received the above mentioned
sum, you will take care that the money is divided among
the clergy already spoken of according to the instruc-
tions sent to you bv Hosius.

" If you considerTTrtS^mount insufficient for the pur-
pose of testifying my regard for all of you in Africa, you
are to ask without delay Heraclidas, the procurator of
the imperial domains, for whatever you may think neces-
sary. For I have personally instructed him that what-

Constantine and the Donatists 167

ever sum your Reverence asks for is to be paid without
hesitation,

" And since I have heard that certain persons of ill-
balanced mind {quosdam non satis composites mentis)
are acting in such a manner as to corrupt the people of
the most holy and Catholic Church with wicked and
adulterous falsehoods {improba et adulterina falsiiaie),
I would have you know that I have given verbal instruc-
tions to Anulinus, the proconsul, and to Patricius, the
vicar of the prsefects, to include among their other duties
a sharp lookout in this matter, and, if this movement con-
tinues, not to neglect or ignore it.

" Consequently, if you find persons of this character
persevering in their mad folly {in hac amentia perse-
verare) you will at once approach the above mentioned
judges and lay the matter before them, that they may
punish the culprits {in eos animadvertant) in accordance
with ray personal instructions.

" May the divinity of the Supreme God {Divinitas
summi Dei) preserve you for many years." ~"~ '

In conjunction with this must be taken the letter
addressed by Constantine to Anulinus, the proconsul
of Africa :

" Greetings to our best beloved Anulinus ! Inasmuch
as it is abundantly proven that the neglect of the religion
which preserves the greatest reverence for divine majesty
has reduced the State to the direst peril, while its care-
ful and due observance has brought the most splendid
prosperity to the Roman name and unspeakable felicity
to all things mortal, thanks to divine goodness, we have
resolved, best beloved Anulinus, that those, who with
due righteousness of life and continual observance of

{

1 68 Constantine

the law, perform their ministry in this divine reHgion
shall reap the reward of their labours.

"Wherefore, it is our wish that all who, in the province
under your care and in the Catholic Church over which
Caecilianus presides, minister to this most holy religion —
those, viz., whom people are wont to call the clergy — shall
be absolved* from all public duties of any kind, lest,
by some slip or grave mischance, they may be distracted
from the duties they owe to the Supreme Divinity, and
that they may do the better service to their own ritual
without any disturbing influences.

" Inasmuch as these people display the deepest rever-
ence for the Divine Will, it seems to me that they ought
to receive the greatest reward the State can bestow."

These are two remarkable letters. They clearly
prove that the schism in the African Church was
making a stir outside Africa, and that the Emperor
had been instructed in the main points at issue. The
new convert had cast his all-powerful influence upon
the Catholic side — an Emperor would naturally be
biassed against schism — and he was prepared to
utilise the civil power in order to compel the return of
the schismatics to obedience. So little observant
was he of his own edict of toleration that he was
prepared to use force to secure uniformity within
the Church! Constantine, indeed, reveals himself
not merely as a Christian, but as a Catholic Christ-
ian ; his bounty is reserved for the Catholic clergy,
and the immunity from public duties involving
heavy expense is reserved similarly for them alone.

* Ab omnibtis ot?inino publicis fiinctionibus immunes volumus con-

servari.

Constantine and the Donatists 169

Nevertheless, the party of Majorinus petitioned the
Emperor to appoint a commission of GalHcan bish-
ops to enquire into and report upon their quarrel
with the Bishop of Carthage.

" We appeal to you, Constantine, best of Emperors,
since you come of a just stock, for your father was alone
among his colleagues in not putting the persecution into
force, and Gaul was thus spared that frightful crime.
Strife has arisen between us and other African bishops,
and we pray that your piety may lead you to grant us
judges from Gaul."

(Signed by Lucianus, Dignus, Nasutius, Capito,

Fidentius, and other bishops of the party of

Majorinus.)

This petition was forwarded by Anulinus, the pro-
consul, whose covering letter, dated April, .^i,^,
describes the opponents of Caecilianus as being
resolute in refusing obedience. The Emperor, who
was in Gaul when the petition reached him, granted
kthe desired commission and instructed the bishops
of Cologne, Autun, and Aries to repair to Rome.
.Caecilianus was instructed to attend with the bishops
belonging to his party; ten of the rival bishops
attached to Majorinus were to appear in the character
of accusers, and for judges there were to be Miltiades,
Bishop of Rome, the three Galilean bishops, and fif-
teen other Italian bishops selected by Miltiades from
all parts of the peninsula. They met in October in
the palace of the Empress Fausta, on the Lateran.
Constantine had already written a letter to Mil-
tiades, in which he deplored the existence of such

170 Constantine

serious schism in the populous African provinces,
which, he said, had spontaneously surrendered to
him, under the influence of divine Providence, as a
reward for his devotion to religion. He, therefore,
looked to the bishops to find a reasonable solution.

At the first sitting the credentials of the accusers
of Cdecilianus were examined, and some were dis-
qualified on the score of bad character. Then, when
the witnesses were called, those who had been brought
to Rome by Majorinus and Donatus avowed that
they had nothing to say against Caecilianus. The
case of the petitioners practically collapsed, for the
judges refused to listen to unsubstantiated gossip
and scandal, and Donatus in the end declined to
attend the enquiry, fearing lest he should be con-
demned on his own admissions. Later on, a second
list of charges was handed in, but was not supported
by a single witness, and then finally the commission
passed on to enquire into the proceedings of the
Council of the seventy bishops who had declared the
election of Caecilianus invalid. They had no difficulty
in reaching a general decision.

The accusations against Caecilianus had clearly
broken down and the verdict of Miltiades began in
the following terms: "Inasmuch as it is shewn that
Csecilianus is not accused by those who came with
Donatus, as they had promised to do, and Donatus
has in no particular established his charges against
him, I find that Caecilianus should be maintained in
the communion of his church with all his privileges
.intact." St. Augustine warmly eulogises the admir-
able moderation displayed by Miltiades, who, in the

Constantine and the Donatists 171

hope of restoring unity, offered to send letters of
communion to all who had been consecrated by
Majorinus, proposing that where there were two rival
bishops, the senior in time of consecration should be
confirmed in the appointment, while another see
should be found for the other. But the Donatists
would listen to no compromise. They appealed again
to the Emperor, who, with a very pardonable out-
burst of wrath, denounced the rabid and implacable
hatreds of these turbulent Africans.

Knowing that the quarrel would be resumed in
full blast if Caecilianus and Donatus returned to
Africa, Constantine detained them both in Italy.
Two Italian bishops, Eunomius and Olympius, were
meanwhile sent to Carthage to act as peacemakers
and explain to the African congregations which was
the true Catholic Church. It was none other, they
said, than the Church which was diffused throughout
the whole world, and they insisted that the judg-
ment of the nineteen bishops was one from which
there could be no appeal. The Donatists, however,
retorted that if the verdict of nineteen bishops was
sacred, a verdict of seventy must be even more so.
They resisted the overtures of their visitors, and
thus, when Donatus and Caecilianus in turn reap-
peared on the scene, the fires of partisanship did not
lack for fuel. It was no longer possible for the
Donatists to press for a rehearing on the ground of
the personal character of Csecilianus. They had had
their chance in Rome to impugn the Primate's
character, and had failed. They now shifted their
ground and based their claim upon the fact that

172 Constantine

Felix of Aptunga, who had consecrated Caecilianus,
was a traditor, and the consecration was, therefore,
invahd.

But was Felix a traditor? This was a plain,
straightforward question, involving no disputed
point of doctrine. Constantine, therefore, wrote to
^lianus, Anulinus's successor as proconsul of Africa,
instructing him to hold a public enquiry into the life
and character of Felix of Aptunga. Part of the
official report has come down to us. Among the
witnesses were those who had been the chief
magistrates of Aptunga at the time of the persecu-
tion. These must all have been acutely conscious of
the curiously anomalous position in which they
stood. If they found that Felix had delivered up
the Holy Books and utensils of the church, their
verdict would acquit him of having broken the law
of Diocletian, but would convict him of being a
traditor, and would, therefore, be most unwelcome
to the reigning sovereign. If they decided that
Felix was not a traditor, they would convict him of
having broken the law of Diocletian and convict
themselves of having been lax administrators. The
favour of a living Prince, however, outweighed con-
sideration for the edicts of the dead, and the finding
of the court was that " no volumes of Holy Scripture
had been discovered at Aptunga, or had been defiled,
or burnt." It went on to say that Felix was not
present in the city at the time and that he had not
temporised with his conscience {neque conscientiam
accommodaverit). He had been, in short, a godly
bishop {religiosum episcopuni). The character of

Constantine and the Donatists 173

Felix was, therefore, entirely rehabilitated and the
validity of the consecration of Csecilianus was
unimpaired.

Then follows the Council of Aries in 314. With a
forbearance rarely displayed by a Roman emperor to
inveterate and unreasoning opposition, Constantine
yielded to the clamour of the Donatists for a new coun-
cil on a broader and more authoritative scale than the
commission of Italian and Gallic bishops. But his dis-
appointment and disgust are plainly to be seen in
his letter to the proconsul of Africa. Constantine
began by saying that he had fully expected that the
decision of a commission of bishops " of the very
highest probity and competence " would have com-
manded universal respect. He found, however, that
the enemies of Caecilianus were as dogged and
obstinate as ever, for they declared that the bishops
had simply shut themselves up in a room and judged
the case according to their personal predilections.
They clamoured for another council : he would grant
them one which was to meet at Aries, ^lianus, there-
fore, was to see that the public posting service
throughout Africa and Mauretania was placed at the
disposal of Csecihanus and his party and of Donatus
and his party, that they might travel with despatch
and cross into Spain by the quickest passage. Then
the letter continued :

" You will provide each separate Bishop with imperial
letters entitling him to necessaries en route [tractorias
litteras) that he may arrive at Aries by the first of
August, and you will also give all the bishops to under-
stand that, before they leave their dioceses, they must

1 74 Constantine

make arrangements whereby, during their absence,
reasonable discipline may be preserved and no chance
revolt against authority or private altercations arise, for
these bring the Church into great disgrace.

" On the other matters at issue, I wish the enquiry to
be full and complete, and an end to be reached,* as I
hope it may be, when all those who are known to be at
variance meet together in person. The quarrel may
thus come to its natural and timely conclusion.

** For as I am well assured that you are a worshipper
of the supreme God, I confess to your Excellency that I
consider it by no means lawful for me to ignore disputes
and quarrels of such a nature as may excite the supreme
Divinity to wrath, not only against the human race but
against myself personally, into whose charge the Divinity
by its Divine will has committed the governance of all
that is on earth. In its just indignation, it might decree
'some ill against me.

" And then only can I feel really and absolutely
I secure, and hope for an unfailing supply of all the
^richest blessings that flow from the instant goodness of
Almighty God, when I shall see all mankind reverencing
most Holy God in brotherly singleness of worship and in
the lawful rites of our Catholic religion. "f

Not only did Constantine write in this evidently
sincere strain to the proconsul of Africa ; he also
sent personal letters to the bishops whose pres-
ence he desired. Eusebius has preserved the
text of one of these, which was addressed to

* De ccetero plena cognitione suscepta finis adhibeaiur.

f Tunc enim revera et plenissime securus potero esse, cum universos
sensero debito cultu catholicce religionis sanctisshmim Deum concordi
observantice fraternitate venerari.

Constantine and the Donatists 175

Chrestus, Bishop of Syracuse, in which the Emperor
instructs him not to fail to reach Aries by August
1st, and bids him secure a public vehicle from
Latronianus, the Governor of Sicily, and bring with
him two presbyters of the second rank and three
personal servants. In obedience to Constantine's
wishes the bishops assembled at Aries by the
appointed day. It is not known how many were
present. On the fullest list of those who signed the
canons there agreed to are found the names of
thirty-three bishops, thirteen presbyters, twenty-three
deacons, two readers, seven exorcists, and four
representatives of the Bishop of Rome. But from
the extreme importance attached to the council in
later times it is certain that many more attended,
and the numbers have been variously estimated at
^ from two to six hundred. Not a single Eastern
\bishop was present. It was a council of the West,
/representing the various provinces of Africa and
Gaul, Spain, Britain, Italy, Sicily, and Sardinia.
From Britain came Eborius of York, Restitutus of
London, and Adelfius, the Bishop of a diocese which
has been variously interpreted as that of Colchester,
Lincoln, and Caerleon on Usk, with a presbyter
named Sacerdos and a deacon called Arminius. The
Bishop of Rome, Sylvester, sent two presbyters and
two deacons.

The Council investigated with great minuteness
the points raised by the Donatists, but it is clear
from the report sent to Sylvester that the Donatists
were no better supplied with evidence than they
had been at Rome. They simply repeated the old,

176 Constantine

unsubstantiated charge against Caecilianus that, as
deacon, he had forcibly prevented the members of
the Church of Carthage from succouring their brethren
in prison during the persecution of Diocletian, and
the disproved accusation against the bishop who con-
secrated him that he had been a traditor. In a
word, they had absolutely no case and the Council
of Aries endorsed the verdict of the Council of
Rome. The synodal letter to Sylvester began as
follows :

" We, assembled in the city of Aries at the bidding of
our most pious Emperor, in the common bonds of charity
and unity, and knitted together by the ties of the mother
Catholic Church, salute you, most holy Pope, with all due
reverence. We have endured to listen to the accusations
of desperate men, who have wrought grave injury to our
law and tradition, men whom the present authority of
our God and the rule of truth have so utterly disowned
that there was no reason in their speeches, no bounds to
the charges they brought, and no evidence or proof.
And so, in the judgment of God and the Mother Church,
which has known and attests them, they stand either
condemned or rejected. Would that you, dearest brother,
had found it possible to take part in such a gathering.
We verily beheve that in that case a more severe sentence
would have been passed upon them, while if your judg-
ment had coincided with ours, the joy of our assembly
would have been intensified. But since you found it
impossible to leave the chosen place where the Apostles
make their daily home, and where their blood testifies
ceaselessly to the glory of God, we thought, dearest bro-
ther, that we ought not simply to take in hand the subject
for the discussion of which we had been called together,

Constantine and the Donatists 177

but also to consider other matters on our own account,
and, as we have come from diverse provinces, diverse are
the topics on which it seemed good to us to take
counsel."

The letter then enumerates the canons to which
the signatories had agreed and transmits them with
the remark that as the Bishop of Rome's dioceses
were wider than those of any other bishop, he was
the most suitable person to press the acceptance of
these canons upon the Church.

It does not fall within the province of this book to
discuss these twenty-two canons ; it will suffice to
indicate the more important in the briefest outline.
The first suggested that Easter should be celebrated
on the same day throughout the whole world ;
the second insisted on the clergy residing in the
places to which they were ordained ; the third
threatened with excommunication deserters from the
army in times of peace {qui anna projiciunt in pace).
Of special importance in connection with the ques-
tions raised by the Donatists were the canons which
prohibited the rebaptism of heretics if they had
been baptised in the name of the Holy Trinity ;
which recognised the validity of baptism conferred
by heretics, if conferred in the proper form ; which
ordered that a new bishop should be consecrated by
seven, or at least three, bishops and never by a single
one ; which removed from the ministry all those
who were clearly proved to have been traditores or to
have denounced their brother clergy, though, if these
had ordained any others to the ministry, the validity
of the ordination was not to be challenged. Worthy

178 Constantine

also of note is the canon removing from the com-
munion of the faithful all those engaged in any
calling connected with the arena or the stage, such
as charioteers, jockeys, actors, pantomimists, and the
like, as long as they continue in professions which, in
the eyes of the Church, tend to the subversion of
public morals; the canon which excommunicated
those of the clergy who practised usury, and the
canon exhorting those whose wives had been unfaith-
ful not to marry again, as they were legally entitled
to do, during the lifetime of their guilty partners.

If the Council of Aries was exceptionally fruitful
in respect of new rules passed for the improvement
of ecclesiastical discipline, it proved an entire failure
in its primary object, that of putting an end to the
Donatist schism. The African malcontents still re-
fused to acknowledge Csecilianus and had the ef-
frontery to appeal to Constantine for yet another
investigation. As the bishops of the West were
obstinately prejudiced against them, they desired
the Emperor to be gracious enough to take charge
of the enquiry himself. Constantine did not con-
ceal his anger in the important letter which he ad-
dressed to the bishops at Aries, thanking them for
their labours and giving them leave to return to
their homes. He wrote :

" Certainly I cannot describe or enumerate the blessings
which God in His heavenly bounty has bestowed upon
me. His servant. I rejoice exceedingly, therefore, that
after this most just enquiry you have recalled to better
hope and future those whom the malignity of the Devil

Constantine and the Donatists 179

geemed to have seduced away by his miserable persua-
sion from the clearest light of the Catholic law. O truly
conquering Providence of Christ, our Saviour, solicitous
even for these who have deserted and turned their
weapons against the truth, and joined themselves to the
heathen. Yet even now, if they will truly believe and
obey His most holy law, they will be able to see what
forethought has been taken in their behalf by the will of
God.

" And I hoped, most holy brethren, to find such a dis-
position even in the stubbornest breasts. For not with-
out just cause will the clemency of Christ depart from
those, in whom it shines with a light so clear that we
may perceive they are regarded with loathing by the
Divine Providence. Such men must be bereft of reason,
since with incredible arrogance they persuade them-
selves of the truth of things, of which it is neither meet
to speak nor hear others speak, abandoning the righteous
decisions which have been laid down. So persistent and
ineradicable is their malignity. How often already have
they shamelessly approached me, only to be crushed
with the fitting response ! Now they clamour for a
judgment from me, who myself await the judgment of
Christ. For I say that, as far as the truth is concerned,
a judgment delivered by priests ought to be considered
as valid as though Christ Himself were present and de-
livering judgment.* For priests can form no thought or
judgment, unless what they are taught to utter by the ad-
monitory voice of Christ.

" What, then, can these malignant creatures be think-
ing of, creatures of the Devil, as I have truly said ?

*Meum judicium postulant qui judicitim Christi expecto. Dico
enim, ut se Veritas habet, sacer datum judicitim ita debet haberi ac
si ipse Dominus residens judicet.

1 80 Constantine

They seek the things of this world, abandoning the
things of Heaven. What sheer, rabid madness possesses
them, that they have entered an appeal, as is wont to be
done in mundane lawsuits? . . . What do these
detractors of the law think of Christ their Saviour, if
they refuse to acknowledge the judgment of Heaven
and demand judgment from me ? They are proven
traitors ; they have themselves convicted themselves of
their crimes, without need of closer enquiry into them.
. . . Do you, however, dearest brothers, return to
your own homes, and be ye mindful of me that our
Saviour may ever have mercy upon me."

It is not a little difficult to understand why an
Emperor who wrote such a letter as the above should
have again acceded to the Donatist demand for
a rehearing. Possibly the Donatists had powerful
friends at court of whom we know nothing, some
member, it may be, of the Imperial Family, or per-
haps the case against them was not so one-sided as
the Catholic authorities agree in representing. At
any rate, Constantine summoned Caecilianus to ap-
pear before him in Rome. Here is the letter which
he wrote to the Donatist bishops to apprise them of
his determination :

" A few days ago I had decided to accede to your re-
quest and permit you to return to Africa, that the case
which you think you have established against Cacilianus
might be fully investigated and brought to a proper con-
clusion. But, after long and careful consideration, I
have deemed the following arrangement best. Know-
ing, as 1 do, that certain of you are of a decidedly tur-
bulent nature and obstinately reject a right verdict and

Constantine and the Donatists i8i

the reasoning of absolute truth, it might conceivably
happen, if the case were heard in Africa, that the con-
clusion reached would not be a fitting one, or in accord-
ance with the dictates of truth. In that event, owing to
^our exceeding obstinacy, something might occur which
Avould greatly displease the Heavenly Divinity and do
1 serious injury to my reputation, which I desire ever to
/maintain unimpaired. I have decided therefore, as I
have said, that it is better for Cfficilianus to come here
and I think he will speedily arrive.

" But I pledge you my word that if, in his presence,
you shall succeed in proving a single one of the crimes
and misdeeds which you lay to his charge, it shall have
as much weight with me as if you had proved every ac-
cusation you bring forward. May God Almighty keep
you safe for ever."

At the same time Constantine wrote to Probia-
nus, the successor of iElianus in the governorship of
Africa, instructing him to send under guard to Italy
certain witnesses who had been imprisoned for forging
documents purporting to shew that Felix of Aptunga
was a traditor. Caecilianus failed to appear at the
appointed time, for some reason which is unknown
to St. Augustine, who gives a brief account of the
sequence of events.* The Donatists demanded that
judgment should be given against the absent bishop
by default, but Constantine refused and ordered them
to follow him to Milan, where affairs of state necessi-
tated his presence. If Augustine is to be trusted,
the Emperor secured the attendance of the Do-
natists by clapping them under guard {ab officialibus

* Epist., 43.

1 82 Constantine

custoditos). This time Caecilianus did not fail his pa-
tron. Constantine, who was strongly averse from tak-
ing upon himself to revise, as it were, the judgments
passed by so many bishops in council, deprecated
their possible resentment by assuring them that his
sole desire was to close the mouths of the Donatists.
After hearing the case all over again, Constantine
pronounced judgment on Nov. i6, 316. St. Au-
gustine says that the Emperor's letters prove his
diligence, caution, and forethought. The praise may
be deserved, but it is evident that he had made up
his mind beforehand. He re-afifirmed the absolute
innocence of Caecilianus and the shamelessness of his
accusers. In an interesting fragment of a letter writ-
ten by the Emperor to Eumalius, one of his vicars,
occurs this sentence : " I saw in Caecihanus a man of
spotless innocence, one who observed the proper du-
ties of religion and served it as he ought, nor did it
appear that guilt could be found in him, as had been
charged against him in his absence by the malice of
his enemies." The publication of the Emperor's
verdict was followed by an edict prescribing penal-
ties against the schismatics. St. Augustine speaks of
a " most severe law against the party of Donatus,"*
and, from other scattered references, we learn that
their churches were confiscated and that they were
fined for non-obedience. The author of the Edict
of Milan, who had promised absolute freedom of
conscience to all, was so soon obliged to invoke the
arm of the temporal authority for the correction of
religious disunion !

* Epist., 105.

Constantine and the Donatists 183

But the Donatists, whose only raison d'etre was
their passionate insistence upon the obHgation of the
Christian to make no compromise with conscience,
however sharp the edge of the persecutor's sword,
were obviously not the kind of people to be over-
awed by so mild a punishment as confiscation of
property. The Emperor's edicts were fruitless,
and in 320, only four years later, we find Constan-
tine trying a change of policy and recommending
the African bishops to see once more what toleration
would do. Active repression only made martyrs, and
martyrdom was the goal of the fanatical Donatist's
ambition. Hence the terms in which the Emperor
addresses the Catholic Church of Africa. After
enumerating the repeated efforts he has made in
order to restore unity, and dwelling upon the delib-
erate and abandoned wickedness of those who have
rendered his intervention nugatory, he continues:

"We must hope, therefore, that Almighty God may
shew pity and gentleness to his people, as this schism is
the work of a few. For it is to God that we should look
for a remedy, since all good vows and deeds are requited.
But until the healing comes from above, it behoves us to
moderate our councils, to practise patience, and to bear
with the virtue of calmness any assault or attack which
the depravity of these people prompts them to deliver.

" Let there be no paying back injury with injury : for it
is only the fool who takes into his usurping hands the
vengeance which he ought to reserve for God.* Our

* Nihil ex reciproco reponatur injurice : Vindictam enim, quajti
Deo servare debemus, insipientis est manibus tisurpare.

1 84 Constantine

faith should be strong enough to feel full confidence
that, whatever we have to endure from the fury of men
like these, will avail with God with all the grace of mar-
tyrdom. For what is it in this world to conquer in the
name of God, unless it be to bear with fortitude the dis-
ordered attack of men who trouble the peaceful followers
of the law!

" If you observe my will, you will speedily find that,
thanks to the supreme power, the designs of the pre-
sumptuous standard-bearers of this wretched faction will
languish, and all men will recognise that they ought not
to listen to the persuasion of a few and perish everlast-
ingly, when, by the grace of penitence, they may correct
their errors and be restored to eternal life."

Patience, leniency, and toleration, hovi^ever, were
as futile as force in dealing with the Donatists, who
bluntly told the Emperor that his prot6ge, Caecili-
anus, was a " worthless rascal " {antistiti ejus nebii-
loni), and refused to obey his injunctions. Donatus,
surnamed the Great in order to distinguish him from
the other Donatus, who had been Bishop of Casae
Nigrae, had by this time succeeded to the leadership
of the schism on the death of Majorinus, and the ex-
traordinary ascendency which he obtained over his
followers, in spite of the powerful Imperial influence
which was always at the support of Caecilianus, war-
rants the belief that he was a man of marked ability.
Learned, eloquent, and irreproachable in private life,
he is said to have ruled his party with an imperious
hand, and to have treated his bishops like lackeys.
Yet his authority was so unbounded and unques-
tioned that his followers swore by his name and

Constantine and the Donatists 185

grey hairs, and, at his death, ascribed to him the
honours paid only to martyrs.

Under his leadership the Donatists rapidly in-
creased in numbers. They were schismatics rather
than heretics. They had no great distinctive tenet ;
what they seem to have insisted upon chiefly was
absolute purity within the Church and freedom from
worldly taint. That was their ideal, as it has been
the ideal of many other wild sectaries since their
day. They claimed special revelations of the Divine
Will ; they insisted upon rebaptising their converts,
compelling even holy virgins to take fresh vows on
joining their communion, which they boasted was
that of the one true Church. Such a sect naturally
attracted to itself all the fanatical extremists of
Africa and all those who had any grievance against
the Catholic authorities. It became the refuge of
the revolutionary, the bankrupt, and the criminal,
and thus, inside the Donatist movement proper,
there grew up a kind of anarchist movement against
property, which had little or no connection with re-
ligious principles.

Constantine, during the remainder of his reign,
practically ignored the African Church. He had
done what he could and he wiped his hands of it.
There soon arose an extravagant sect which took
the name of Circumcelliones, from their practice of
begging food from cell to cell, or cottage to cottage.
They renounced the ordinary routine of daily Hfe.
Forming themselves into bands, and styling them-
selves the Champions of the Lord {ayooviGtDioi),
they roamed through the countryside, which they

1 86 Constantine

kept in a state of abject terror. St. Augustine, in a
well-known passage, declares that when their shout
of " Praise be to God ! " was heard, it was more
dreaded than the roar of a lion. They were armed
with wooden clubs, which they named " Israels,"
and these they did not scruple to use upon the
Catholics, whose churches they entered and plun-
dered, committing the most violent excesses, though
they were pledged to celibacy. Gibbon justly com-
pares them to the Camisards of Languedoc at the
commencement of the i8th century, and others have
likened them to the Syrian Assassins at the time of
the Crusades and the Jewish Sicarii of Palestine dur-
ing the first century of the Christian era. They
formed, it seems, a sort of Christian Jacquerie, pos-
sessed in their wilder moments with a frantic passion
for martyrdom and imploring those whom they met
to kill them. The best of them were fit only for a
madhouse ; the worst were fit only for a gaol. Prob-
ably they had little connection with the respectable
Donatists in the cities, whose organisation was pre-
cisely the same as that of the Catholics, and their
operations were mainly restricted to the thinly popu-
lated districts on the borders of the desert.

On one occasion, however, Constantine was obliged
to interfere. The Donatists in Cirta, — the capital of
Numidia, — which had been renamed Constantina in
honour of the Emperor, had forcibly seized the
church of the Catholics, that had been built at Con-
stantine's command. The Catholics, therefore, ap-
pealed to the Emperor, and knowing that he was
pledged to a policy of non-interference, they did not

Constantine and the Donatists 187

ask for punishment against the Donatists, or even
for the restoration of the church in question, but
simply that a new site might be given them out of
public moneys. The Emperor granted their request,
ordering that the building as well as the site should be
paid for by the State, and granting immunity from
all public ofifices to the Catholic clergy of the town.
In his letter Constantine does not mince his language
with respect to the Donatists.

"They are adherents," he says, "of the Devil, who is
their father ; they are insane, traitors, irreligious, pro-
fane, ranged against God and enemies of the Holy
Church. Would to Heaven!" he concludes, "that
these heretics or schismatics might have regard even
now for their own salvation, and, brushing aside the
darkness, turn their eyes to see the true light, leaving
the Devil, and flying for refuge, late though it be, to the
one and true God, who is the judge of all ! But since they
are set upon remaining in their wickedness and wish to
die in their iniquities, our warning and our previous
long continued exhortations must suffice. For if they
had been willing to obey our commandments, they
would now be free from all evil."

Evidently the Emperor was thoroughly weary of
the whole controversy, and disgusted at such unrea-
soning contumacy. The same feelings find power-
ful expression in the letters and manifestoes of St.
Augustine, a century later, when the great Bishop
of Hippo constituted himself the champion of the
Catholic Church and played the foremost part in
the stormy debates which preceded the final disap-

1 88 Constantine

pearance of the Donatist schism, after the Council of
Carthage in 410. Then the momentous decision
was reached that all bishops who, after three appeals
to them to return to the Church, still refused sub-
mission, should be brought back to the Catholic fold
by force. The point in dispute was still just what
it had been in the days of Constantine, whether a
Christian Church could be considered worthy of the
name if it had admitted faithless and unworthy
members, or if the ministers had been ordained by
bishops who had temporised with their consciences
and fallen short of the loftiest ideal of duty. That
was the great underlying principle at stake in the
Donatist controversy, though, as in all such contro-
versies, the personal element was paramount when
the schism began, and was still the cause of the bit-
terness and fury with which the quarrel was con-
ducted long after the intrigues of Lucilla and the
personal animosities between Caecilianusand the Nu.
midian bishops had ceased to be of interest or mo-
ment to the living Church. And it is interesting to
note that while it was the Donatists themselves who
had made the first appeal unto Caesar by asking
Constantine to judge between them and Csecilianus,
in St. Augustine's day the Donatists hotly denied
the capacity of the State to take cognisance of spiritual
things. What, they asked, has an Emperor to do
with the Church ? Quid est Imperatori cum Ecclesia ?

STATUt OF CONSTANTINE FROM THE PORCH OF SAN GIOVANNI IN
LATERAN, AT ROME.

CHAPTER X

THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY

IF Constantine beheld with impatience the irrecon- i
cilable fury of the Donatists, who refused either
to respect his wishes for Christian unity or to obey
the bishops of the Western Church ; if he angrily
washed his hands of their stubborn factiousness and
committed them in despair to the judgment of God,
we may imagine with what bitterness of soul he be-
held the gathering of the storm of violent contro-
versy which is associated with the two great names
of Arius and Athanasius. This was a controversy,
and Arianism was a heresy, which, unlike the Don-
atist schism, were confined to no single province of the
Empire, but spread like a flood over the Eastern
Church, raising issues of tremendous importance,
vital to the very existence of Christianity. It started
in Alexandria. No birthplace could have been more
appropriate to a system of theology which was pro-
fessedly based upon pure reason than the great uni-
versity city where East and West met, the home of
Neo-Platonism, the inheritor of the Hellenic tradi-
tion, and the chief exponent of Hellenism, as under-
stood and professed by Greeks who for centuries
189

190 Constantine

had been subject to and profoundly modified by
Oriental ideas and thought.

We must deal very briefly with its origin. Arius
was born in the third quarter of the third century,
according to some accounts in Libya, according to
others in Alexandria. He was ordained deacon by the
Patriarch Peter and presbyter by Achillas, who ap-
pointed him to the church called Baucalis, the old-
est and one of the most important of the city churches
of Alexandria. Arius had been in schism in his earlier
years, ^^e had joined the party of Meletius, Bishop
of Lycopolis, who was condemned by a synod of
Egyptian bishops in 306 for insubordination and irre-
gularity of conduct ; but he had made submission to
Achillas, and during the latter's short tenure of the
see, Arius became a power in Alexandria. 'We are
told, indeed, that on the death of Achillas in 312 or
313 Arius was a candidate for the vacant throne, and
Theodoretus states that he was greatly mortified at
being passed over in favour of Alexander. But there
is no indication of personal animosity or quarrel be-
tween the bish6p and the parish priest until five or
six years later. On the contrary, Alexander is said
to have held Arius in high esteem, and the fame of
the priest of Baucalis spread abroad through the city
as that of an earnest worker, a strict and ascetic
Hver, and a powerful preacher who dealt boldly and
frankly with the great principles of the faith. Jn\
person, Arius was of tall and striking presence, con-
spicuous wherever he moved by his sleeveless tunic
and narrow cloak, and gifted with great conversa-
tional powers and charm of manner. He was also

The Arian Controversy 191

capable of infecting others with the enthusiasm
which he felt himself. Arius has been described for
us mainly by his enemies, who considered him a very
anti-Christ, and attributed his remarkable success to
the direct help of the Evil One. We may be sure
that, like all the great religious leaders of the world,
— among whom, heretic though he was, he deserves
a place, — he was fanatically sincere and the doctrine
which he preached was vital and fecund, even though
the vitality and fecundity were those of error.

It was not, apparently, until the year 319 that
serious disturbance began in the Christian circles of
Alexandria. There would first of all be whispers
that Arius was preaching strange doctrine and hand-
ling the great mysteries somewhat boldly and dog-
matically. Many would doubt the wisdom of such
outspokenness, quite apart from the question whether
the doctrine taught was sound ; others would exhibit
the ordinary distrust of innovation ; others would
welcome this new kindling of theological interest
from the mere pleasure of debate and controversy.
We do not suppose that any one, not even Arius
himself, foresaw — at any rate, at first — the extra-
ordinary and lamentable consequences that were to
follow from his teaching. The Patriarch Alexander
has been blamed for not crushing the infant heresy
at its birth, for not stopping the mouth of Arius be-
fore the mischief was done. It is easy to be wise
after the event. Doubtless Alexander did not ap-
preciate the danger ; possibly also he thought that
if he waited, the movement would subside of itself.
He may very well have beheved that this popular

192 Constantine

preacher would lose his hold, that some one else
would take his place as the fashionable clergyman
of the hour, that the extravagance of his doctrines
would speedily be forgotten. Moreover, Arius' was
a zealous priest, doing good work in his own way,
and 'long experience has shewn that it is wise for
ecclesiastical superiors to give able men of marked
power and originality considerable latitude in the
expression of their views.

As time went on, however, it became clear that
Alexander must intervene. Arius was now the en-
thusiastic advocate of theories which aimed at the
very root of the Christian religion, inasmuch as they
denied the essential Godhead of Christ. It was no
longer a case of a daring thinker tentatively hinting
at doctrines which were hardly in accord with estab-
lished belief. Arius was devoting himself just to
those points where he was at variance with his fel-
lows, was insisting upon them in season and out of
season, and was treating them as the very essence
of Christianity. He had issued his challenge ; Alex-
ander was compelled to take it up. The Patriarch
sent for him privately. He wished either to con-
vince him of his error or to induce him to be silent.
But the interview was of no avail. Arius simply
preached the more. Alexander then summoned a
meeting of the clergy of :Atexandria, and brought
forward for discussion the accepted doctrine of the
Holy Trinity which Arius had challenged. Arius and
his sympathisers were present and the controversy
was so prolonged that the meeting had to be ad-
journed ; when it reassembled, the Patriarch endeav-

The Arian Controversy 193

oured to bring the debate to a close by restating the
doctrine of the Holy Trinity in a form which he hoped
would be unanimously approved. But this merely
precipitated an open rupture. ,For Arius immediately
rose and denounced Alexander for falling into the
heresy of Sabellianism "•■and reducing the Second
Person in the Trinity to a mere manifestation of the
First.

It is to be remembered that the doctrine of the
Holy Trinity — difificult as it is even now, after cent-
uries of discussion, to state in terms that are free
from all equivocation — must have been far more dif-
ficult to state then, before the Arian controversy
had, so to speak, crystallised the exact meaning of
the terms employed. It seems quite clear, more-
over, from what subsequently took place, that Alex-
ander was no match for Arius in dialectical subtlety
and that Arius found it easy to twist his chief's un-
skilful arguments and expressions into bearing an
interpretation which Alexander had not intended.
At any rate the inevitable result of the conference
was that both sides parted in anger, and Arius con-
tinued as before to preach the doctrine that the Son ,
of God was a creaturejl For this was the leading N
tenet of Arianism and the basis of the whole heresy,
that the Son of God was a creature, the first of all
creatures, it is true, and created before the angels
and archangels, ineffably superior to all other creat-
ures, yet still a creature and, as such, ineffably inferior
to the Creator, God the Father Himself.

It does not fall within the scope of this book to
discuss in detail the theological conceptions of Arius

194 Constantine

and the mysteries of the Holy Trinity. But it is
necessary to say a few words about this new doctrine
which was to shake the world, and to shew how it
came into being. Arius started from the Sonship of
Christ, and argued thus : If Christ be really, and not
simply metaphorically, the Son of God, and if the
Divine Sonship is to be interpreted in the same way
as the relationship between human father and son,
then the Divine Father must have existed before the
Divine Son. Therefore, there must have been a
time when the Son did not exist. Therefore, the
Son was a creature composed of an essence or being
which had previously not been existent. And inas-
much as the Father was in essence eternal and ever
existent, the Son could not be of the same essence
as the Father. Such was the Arian theory stated in
the fewest possible words. " Its essential proposi-
tions," as Canon Bright has said, * "were these two,
that the Son had not existed from eternity and that
he differed from other creatures in degree and not in
kind." There can be nothing more misleading than
to represent the Arian controversy as a futile logo-
machy, a mere quarrel about words, about a single
vowel even, as Gibbon has done in a famous passage.
It was a vital controversy upon a vital dogma of the
Christian Church.

Two years seeirr to have passed before Bishop
Alexander, finding that Arius was growing bolder in
declared opposition, felt compelled to make an at-
tempt to enforce discipline within his diocese. The
insubordinate priest of Baucahs had rejected the

* The Age of the Fathers, chap. v.

The Arian Controversy 195

personal appeal of his bishop and disregarded the
wishes of a majority of the Alexandrian clergy, and
we may reasonably suppose that his polemics would
grow all the more bitter as he became aware of the
rapidly deepening estrangement. He would sharpen
the edge of his sarcasm upon the logical obtuseness
of his nominal superiors, for his appeal was always to
reason and to logic. Given my premises, he would
say, where is the flaw in my deductions, and wherein
do my syllogisms break down? Byjjie-^iear- 321
Arius was the typical rebellious priest, profoundly
self-confident, rejoicing in controversy, dealing hard
blows all around him, and prepared to stoop to any
artifice in order to gain adherents. To win over the
mob, he was ready to degrade his principles to the
mob's understanding.

Alexander summoned a provincial synod of A
hundred Egyptian and Libyan bishops to pronounce
judgment upon the doctrines and the person of
Arius. Attended by his principal supporters, Arius
appeared before the synod and boldly stood to his
guns. He maintained, that is to say, that God had
not always been Father; that the Word was the creat-
ure and handiwork of the Father; that the Son was
not like the Father according to substance and was
neither the true Word nor the true Wisdom, having
been created by the Word and Wisdom which are in
God; that by His nature He was subject to change
like all other rational creatures ; that the Son does
not perfectly know either the Father or His own es-
sence, and that Jesus Christ is not true God. The
majority of the bishops listened with horror as Arius

196 Constantine

thus unfolded his daring and, in their ears, blas-
phemous creed. One of them at length put a
searching test question. " If," he asked, " the Word
of God is subject to change, would it have been pos-
/sible for the Word to change, as Satan had changed,
Vfrom goodness to wickedness?" "Yes," came the
ahswer. Thereupon the synod promptly excom-
municated Arius and his friends, including two
bishops, Secundus of Ptolemais in the Pentapolis
and Theonas of lyiarmorica, together with six priests
and six deacons. The synod also anathematised his
doctrines. • The Arian heresy had formally begun.
Arius quitted Alexandria and betook himself to
Palestine, where he and his companions received
hospitable treatment at the hands of some of the
bishops, notably Eusebius of Caesarea and Paulinus
of Tyre. He bore himself very modestly, assuming
the role not of a rebel against authority, but of one
who had been deeply wronged, because he had been
grievously misunderstood. He was no longer the
turbulent priest, strong in the knowledge of his intel-
lectual superiority over his bishop, but a minister of
the Church who had been cast out from among the
faithful and whose one absorbing desire was to be
restored to communion. He did not ask his kindly
hosts to associate themselves with him. He merely
begged that they should use their good ofifices with
Alexander to effect a reconciliation, and that they
should not refuse to treat him as a true member
of the Church. A few, like Macarius of Jerusalem,
rejected his overtures, but a large number of bishops
in the Province — if we may so term it — of the Patri-

The Arian Controversy 197

arch of Antioch acceded to his wishes. No doubt
Arius presented his case, when he was suing for
recognition and favour, in a very different form from
that in which he had presented it from the rostrum
of his church at BaucaHs. He was as subtle in his
knowledge of the ways of the world as in his know-
ledge of the processes of logic. Nevertheless, he can-
not possibly have disguised the main doctrine which
he had preached for years — the doctrine, that is to
say, that the Son was inferior to the Father and had
been created by the Father out of a substance other
than His own — and the fact that the champion of such
a doctrine received recognition at the hands of so
many bishops seems to prove that the Church had not
yet formulated her belief in respect of this mystery
with anything like precision ; that theories similar to
those advocated by Arius were rife throughout the
East and were by no means repugnant to the general
tendency of its thought.

Arianism would naturally, and did actually, make
a most potent appeal to minds of very varying
quality anjd calibre. It appealed, for example, to
those Christians who had not quite succeeded in
throwing off the influences of the paganism around
them, a class obviously large and comprising
within it alike the educated who were under
the spell- of the religious philosophy of thc^N^o-
Platonists, and the uneducated and illiterate who
believed, or at any rate spoke as if they believed,
in a multiplicity of gods. To minds, therefore,
still insensibly thinking in terms of polytheism
one can understand the attraction of the leading

198 Constantine

thought of Arianism, viz., one supreme, eternal,
omnipotent God, God the Father, and a secondary
God, God the Son, God and creature in one, and
therefore the better fitted to be intermediary between
the unapproachable God and fallen humanity. For
how many long centuries had not the world
believed in demi-gods as it had believed in
gods? Arianism, on one side of its character,
enabled men to cast a lingering look behind on an
outworn creed which had not been wholly gross and
which had not been too exacting for human frailty.
Moreover, there were many texts in Holy Scripture
which seemed in the most explicit language to cor-
roborate the truth of Arius's teaching. '* My Father
is -greater than I," so Christ had Himself said, and
the obvious and literal meaning of the words seemed
entirely inconsistent with any essential co-equality
^ of Son and Father. The text, of course, is subject
to another — if more recondite — interpretation, but
the history of religion has shewn that the origin of
most sects has been due to people fastening upon
individual texts and founding upon them doctrines
both great and small.

Again, — and perhaps this was the strongest claim
that Arianism could put forward, — it appealed to
men's pride and belief in the adequacy of their
reason. Mankind has always hungered after a re-
ligious system based on reason, founded in reason;
secure against all objectors, something four-square
and solid against all possible assailants. Arianism
claimed to provide such a system, and it unquestion-
ably had the greater appearance — at any rate to a

The Arian Controversy 199

superficial view — of being based upon irrefutable ar-
gument. Canon Bright put the case very well where
he wrote"^ :

" Arianism would appeal to not a few minds by adopt-
ing a position virtually rationalistic, and by promising to
secure a Christianity which should stand clear of phi-
losophical objections, and Catholics would answer by
insisting that the truths pertaining to the Divine Nature
must be pre-eminently matter of adoring faith, that it
was rash to speculate beyond the limit of revelation, and
that the Arian position was itself open to criticism from
reason's own point of view. Arians would call on
Catholics to ' be logical ' ; to admit the prior existence
of the Father as involved in the very primary notion of
fatherhood; to halt no more between a premiss and a
conclusion, to exchange their sentimental pietism for
convictions sustainable by argument. And Catholics
would bid them in turn remember the inevitably limited
scope of human logic in regard to things divine and
would point out the sublime uniqueness of the divine
relation called Fatherhood."

If we consider the subsequent history of the Arian
doctrine, its coivtiftttfth'eSifth, the permanent appeal
which, in at least some of its phases, it makes to
certain types of intellect including some of the
loftiest and shrewdest, there can be no reason for
surprise that Arius met with so much recognition
and sympathy, even among those who refused him
their active and definite support. Alexander was
both troubled and annoyed to find that so many of

* The Age of the Fathers, chap. vi.

200 Constantine

the Eastern bishops took Arius's part, and he sent
round a circular letter of remonstrance which had
the effect of arousing some of these kindly ecclesi-
astics to a sense of the danger which lurked in the
Arian doctrine. But Arius was soon to find his
ablest and most influential champion in the person^-of
atiother Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia in Bithynia.
This Eusebius had been Bishop of Berytus (Beyrout),
and it has been thought that he owed his translation
from that see to the more important one of Nico-
media to the influence of Constantia, sister of
Constantine and wife of Licinius. He had, at any
rate, been suf^ciently astute to obtain the good-will
of Constantine on the fall of his old patron and he
stood well with the court circle.

lie and Arius were old friends, for they had been
fellow-pupils of the famous Lucian of Antioch. It
has been suggested that Eusebius was rather the
teacher than the pupil of Arius, but probably neither
word expresses the true relationship. They were
simply old friends who thought very much alike.
Arius's letter to Eusebius asking for his help is one
of the most interesting documents of the period.
AHusTwrltes^xviih-hot indignation of the persecution
to which he has been subjected by Alexander, who,
he says, had expelled him and his friends from Alex-
andria as impious atheists because they had refused
to subscribe to the outrageous doctrines which the
Bishop professed. He then gives in brief his version
of AieXETtder's teaching and of his own, which he de-
clares is that of Eusebius of Csesarea aiid-^U the
Eastern bishops, with the exception of a few. " We

The Arian Controversy 201

are persecuted," he continues, " because we have said,
'the Son has a beginning, but God is without a be-
ginning,' and * the Son is made of that which is not,'
and ' the Son is not part of God nor is he of any
substance.' " It is the letter of a man angry at what
he conceives to be the harsh treatment meted out to
him, and it has the ring of honesty about it, for even
though it distorts the views put forward by Alex-
ander, there never yet was a convinced theologian
who stated his opponent's case precisely as that op-
ponent would state it for himself.

We have not Eusebius's answer to this letter, the
closing sentence of which begged him as "a true fel-
low-pupil of Lucian" not to fail him. But we know at
least that it was favourable, for we next find Arius
at Nicomedia itself, under the wing of the popular
and powerful Bishop, who vigorously stood up for
his friend. Eusebius wrote more than once to Alex-
ander pleading the cause of the banished presbyter,
and Arius himself also wrote to his old Bisnop, re-
stating his convictions and reopening the entire ques-
tion in a temperate form. The tone of that letter
certainly compares most favourably with that of the
famous document which Alexander addressed to his
namesake at Byzantium, warning him to be on guard
against Arius and his friends. He can find no epi-
thets strong enough in which to describe them.
They are possessed of the Devil, who dwells in them
and goads them to fury ; they are jugglers and trick-
sters, clever conjurors with seductive words ; they
are brigands who have built lairs for themselves
wherein day and night they curse Christ and the

202 Constantine

faithful ; they are no better than the Jews or Greeks
or pagans, whose good opinion they eagerly covet,
joining them in scofifing at the Catholic doctrine and
stirring up faction and persecution. The Bishop in
his fury even declares that the Arians are threaten-
ing lawsuits against the Church at the instance of
disorderly women whom they have led astray, and
accuses them of seeking to make proselytes through
the agency of the loose young women of the town.
In short, they have torn the unbroken tunic of
Christ. And so on throughout the letter.

The historians of the Church have done the cause
of truth a poor service in concealing or glossing over
the outrageous language employed by the Patriarch,
\^ose violence raises the suspicion that he must
have been conscious of the weakness of his own di-
alectical power in thus disqualifying his opponents
and ruling them out of court as a set of frantic
madmen. " What impious arrogance," he exclaims.
" What measureless madness ! What vainglorious
melancholy! What a devilish spirit it is that
indurates their unholy souls!" Even when every al-
lowance is made, this method of conducting a contro-
versy creates prejudice against the person employing
it. ^ It is, moreover, in the very sharpest contrast with
the method employed by Arius, and with the tenor
of the letter written by Eusebius of Nicomedia to
Paulinus of Tyre, praying him to write to " My lord,
Alexander." Eusebius hotly resented the tone of
the Patriarch's letter, and, summoning a synod of
Bithynian bishops, laid the whole matter before
them for discussion. Sympathising with Arius,

The Arian Controversy 203

these bishops addressed a circular letter " to all the
bishops throughout the Empire," begging them nl^t
to deny communion to the Arians and also to seek
to induce Alexander to do the same. Alexander,
however, stood out for unconditional surrender.

Arius returrjed-to Palesttn^'where three bishops
permitted him to hold services for his followers, and
the wordy war continued. Alexander drew up a
long encyclical which he addressed " to all his fellow-
workers of the universal Catholic Church," couched
in language not quite so violent as that which he
had employed in writing to the Bishop of Byzantium,
yet denouncing the Anans in "no measured~Terms as
" lawless men and fighters against Christ, teaching
an apostasy which one may rightly describe as pre-
paring the way for anti-Christ." In it-lie attacks
Eusebius of Nicomedia by name, accusing him j)f
" believing that the welfare of the Church depended
upon his nod," and of championing the cause of Arius
not because he sincerely believed the Arian doctrine
sp much as in ofd'er to furtheFTris^bwh ambitious
interests. Evidently, this was not the first time that
the two 'prelates had been at variance, and pTrivate
animosities acceTTEuated their doctrinal differences.
The more closely the original authorities are studied,
the more evident is the need for caution in accept-
ing the traditional character sketches of Arius and
Eusebius of Nicomedia. Alexander declares that
he is prostrated with sorrow at the thought that
Arius and his friends are eternally lost, after having
once known the truth and denied it. But he adds,
" I am not surprised. Did not Judas betray his

204 Constantine

Master after being a disciple ? " We are sceptical
of Alexander's sorrow. He closes his letter with a
plea for the absolute excommunication of the Arians.
Christians must have nothing to do with the enemies
of Christ and the destroyers of souls. They must
not even offer them the compliment of a morning
salutation. To say " Good-morning " to an Arian
was to hold communication with the lost. Such a
manifesto merely added fuel to the fire, and the two
parties drew farther and farther apart.

Nor was Arius idle. It must have been about this
time that he composed the notorious poem, Thalia,
in which he embodied his doctrines. He selected
the metre of a pagan poet, Sotades of Crete, of whom
we know nothing save that his verses had the re-
putation of being exceedingly licentious. Arius did
this of deliberate purpose. His object was to pop-
ularise his doctrines. Sotades had a vogue ; Arius
desired one. What he did was precisely similar to
what in our own time the Salvation Army has done
in setting its hymns to the popular tunes and music-
hall ditties of the day. This was at first a cause of
scandal to many worthy people, who now admit the
cleverness and admire the shrewdness of the idea.
Similarly, Arius got people to sing his doctrines to
the very tunes to which they had previously sung
the indecencies of Sotades. He wrote ballads, so we
are told by Philostorgius — the one Arian historian
who has survived— for sailors, millers, and travellers.
But it is certainly difficult to understand their popu-
larity, judging from the isolated fragments which
are quoted by Athanasius in his First Discourse

The Arian Controversy 205

Against //^^ ^rm;w (chap. xi.). According to Ath-
anasius, the Thalia opened as follows :

" According to faith of God's elect, God's prudent ones,

Holy children, rightly dividing, God's Holy Spirit re-
ceiving.

Have I learned this from the partakers of wisdom,

Accomplished, divinely taught, and wise in all things.

Along their track have I been walking, with like
opinions.

I am very famous, the much suffering for God's
glory.

And taught of God, I have acquired wisdom and
knowledge."

It is rather the unspeakable tediousness and frigid-
ity of this exordium than its arrogant impiety that
strike the modern reader. Athanasius then proceeds
to quote examples of Arius's " repulsive and most
impious mockeries." For example, " God was not al-
ways a Father ; there was once a time when God was
alone and was not yet a Father. But afterwards He
became a Father." Or, ** the Son was not always,"
or " the Word is not very God, but by participation
in Grace, He, as all others, is God only in name." If
these are good specimens of what Athanasius
calls " the fables to be found in Arius's jocose com-
position," the standard of the jocose or the ridicu-
lous must have altered greatly. JA^hy such a poem
should have been called the Thalia or " Merrymak-
ing," it is hard to conceive.

Yet, one can understand how the ribald wits of
Alexandria gladly seized upon this portentous con-

2o6 Constantine

troversy and twisted its prominent phrases into the
catch-words of the day. There is a passage in
Gregory of Nyssa bearing on this subject which has
frequently been quoted.

" Every corner of Constantinople,'' he says, " was full
of thdfr discussions, the streets, the market-place, the
shops of the money-changers and the victuallers. Ask a
tradesman how many obols he wants for some article in
his shop, and he replies with a disquisition on generated
and ungenerat^d being. Ask the price of bread to-day,
and the baker tells you. " The Son is subordinate to the
Father.' Ask your servant if the bath is ready and he
makes answer, ' Tht Son arose out of nothing.' ' Great
is the only Begotten,' declared the Catholics, and the
Arians rejoined, * But greater is He that begot.' "

It was a subject that lent itself to irreverent
jesting and cheap profanity. The baser sort of
Arians appealed to boys to tell them whether there
were one or two Ingenerates, and to women to say
whether a son could exist before he was born. Even
in the present day, any theological doctrine which
has the misfortune to become the subject of excited
popular debate is inevitably dragged through the
mire by the ignorant partisanship and gross scur-
rilities of the contending factions. We may be sure
that the "Ariomaniacs " — as they are called — were
neither worse nor better than the champions of the
Catholic side, and the result was tumult and dis-
order. In fact, says Eusebius of Caesarea,

"in every city bishops were engaged in obstinate conflict
with bishops, people rose against people, and almost, like

The Arian Controversy 207

the fabled Symplegades, came into violent collision with
each other. Nay, some were so far transported beyond
the bounds of reason as to be guilty of reckless and out-
rageous conduct and even to insult the statues of the
Emperor."

Constantine felt obliged to intervene and addressed
a long letter to Alexander and Arius, which he con-
fided to the care of his spiritual adviser, Hosius,
Bishop of Cordova, bidding him go to Alexandria
in person and do what he could to mediate between
the disputants. We need not give the text in full.
Constantine tegan with his usual exordium. His
consuming passion, he said, was for unity of religious
opinion, as the precursor and best guarantee of
peace. Deeply disappointed by Africa, he had
hoped for better things from " the bosom of the
East," whence had arisen the dawn of divine light.
Then he continues :

"But Ah! glorious and Divine Providence, what a
wound was inflicted not alone on my ears but on my
heart, when I heard that divisions existed among your-
selves, even more grievous than those of Africa, so that
you, through whose agency I hoped to bring healing
to others, need a remedy worse than they. And yet,
after making careful enquiry into the origin of these dis-
cussions, I find that the cause is quite insignificant and
entirely disproportionate to such a quarrel.* ... I
gather then that the present controversy originated as
follows. For when you, Alexander, asked each of the

* ayav evTsXrji xai ovSajuc^i ci^ia r^S zoiavrtfi cptXo-

2o8 Constantine

presbyters what he thought about a certain passage in
the Scriptures, or rather what he thought about a certain
aspect of a foolish question, and you, Arius, without due
consideration laid down propositions which never ought
to have been conceived at all, or, if conceived, ought to
have been buried in silence, dissension arose between
you ; communion was forbidden ; and the most holy
people, torn in twain, no longer preserved the unity of a
common body."

The Emperor then exhorts them to let both the
unguarded question and the inconsiderate answer
be forgotten and forgiven. The subject, he says,
never ought to have been broached, but there is
always mischief found for idle hands to do and idle
brains to think. The difference between you, he
insists, has not arisen on any cardinal doctrine laid
down in the Scriptures, nor has any new doctrine
been introduced. "You hold one and the same
view";* reunion, therefore, is easily possible. So
little does the Emperor appreciate the importance of
the questions at issue, that he goes on to quote the
example of the pagan philosophers who agree to
disagree on details, while holding the same general
principles. How then, he asks, can it be right for
brethren to behave towards one another like enemies
because of mere trifling and verbal differences ?f
"Such conduct is vulgar, childish, and petulant, ill-
befitting priests of God and men of sense. It is a
wile and temptation of the Devil. Let us have done

* dXX' Eva Hal rov avrbv e'xsts Xoyi6udv.

f 8t oXi'yai nai /uaraiaS pri/xdzoov kv rjulv (ptXovetHt'a?.

The Arian Controversy 209

with it. If we cannot all think alike on all topics,
we can at least all be united on the great essentials.
As far as regards divine Providence, let there be
one faith and one understanding, one united opinion
in reference to God." And then the letter concludes
with the passionate outburst :

" Restore me then my quiet days and untroubled
nights, that I may retain my joy in the pure light and,
for the rest of my days, enjoy the gladness of a peaceful
life. Else I needs must groan and be diffused wholly in
tears, and know no comfort of mind till I die. For
while the people of God, my fellow-servants, are thus
torn asunder in unlawful and pernicious controversy, how
can I be of tranquil mind ? "

Some have seen in this letter proof of the
Emperor's consummate wisdom, and have described
its language as golden and the triumph of common
sense. It seems to us a complete exposure of his
profound ignorance of the subject in which he had
interfered. It was easy to say that the question
should not have been raised. " Qiiieta non niovere"
is an excellent motto in theology as in politics. But
this was precisely one of those questions which,
when once raised, are bound to go forward to an
issue. The time was ripe for it. It suited the taste
and temper of the age, and the resultant storm of
controversy, so easily stirred up, was not easily
allayed. For Constantine to tell Alexander and
Arius that theirs was merely a verbal quarrel on an
insignificant and non-essential point, or that they
were really of one and the same mind, and held one

2IO

Constantine

and the same view on all essentials, was grotesquely
absurd. The question at issue was none other than
the Divine Nature of the Son. Q£.0od. If theology
is of any value or importance at all, it is impossible
to conceive a more essential problem.

CHAPTER XI

THE COUNCIL OF NIC^A

CONSTANTINE'S letter was fruitless. Hosius
sought to play the peacemaker in vain,
either Alexander nor Arius desired peace except
,t the price of the other's submission, and neither
\v:as prepared to submit. Hosius, therefore, did not
remain long in Alexandria, and, returning to Con-
stantine, recommended him to summon a Council of
the Church. The advice pleased the Emperor, who
at once issued letters calling upon the bishops to as-
semble at Nicaea, in Bithyhia, in the month of June,
325. The invitations were accepted with alacrity,
for Constantine placed at the disposal of the bishops
the posting system of the Empire, thus enabling
them to travel comfortably, expeditiously, and at no
cost to themselves.

" They were impelled," says Eusebius,* " by the an-
ticipation of a happy result to the conference, by the
hope of enjoying present peace, and by the desire of be'
holding something new and strange in the person of so
admirable an Emperor. And when they were all

De Vita Constant., ii

212 Constantine

assembled, it appeared evident that the proceeding was
the work of God, inasmuch as men, who had been
most widely separated not merely in sentiment but by
differences of country, place, and nation, were here
brought together within the walls of a single city, forming
as it were avast garland of priests, composed of a variety
of the choicest flowers."

The Council of Nicsea was the first of the great
Oicumenical Councils of the Church. There had
been nothing like it before; nor could there have
been, for no pagan Emperor would have tolerated
such an assembly. The exact number of those present
is not known. Eusebius, with irritating and unnec-
essary vagueness, says that " the bishops exceeded
two hundred and fifty, while the number of the pres-
byters and deacons in their train and the crowd of
acolytes and other attendants was altogether beyond
computation," There are sundry lists of names re-
corded by the ecclesiastical historians, but unfortun-
ately all are incomplete. However, as a confident
legend grew up within fifty years of the Council that
the bishops were 318 in number, and as the Council
itself became known as "The Council of the 318,"
we may accept that figure without much demur.
Very few came from the West. Hosius of Cordova
seems to have been the only representative of the
Spanish Church, and Nacasius of Divio the only repre-
sentative of Gaul. The Bishops of Aries, Autun,
Lyons, Treves, Narbonne, Marseilles, Toulouse — all
cities of first-class importance — were absent. Eus-
torgius came from Milan; Marcus from Calabria;
Capito from Sicily. The aged Sylvester of Rome

The Council of Nicaea 213

would have attended, had his physical infirmities
permitted, but he sent two presbyters to speak for
him, Vito and Vincentius. Bishop Domnus of
Stridon represented Pannonia, and Theophilus the
Goth came on behalf of the northern barbarians —
probably to listen rather than to speak. Evidently,
then, the composition of the Council was overwhelm-
ingly Eastern. Greek, not Latin, was the language
spoken, and certainly Greek, not Latin, was the heresy
under discussion, for the Arian controversy could not
have arisen in the western half of the Empire. For
all practical purposes the Council of Nicaea was a well-
attended synod of the Syrian and Egyptian Churches.
The opinions there expounded were the opinions of
the Christian schools of Antioch and Alexandria.

We may take the names of a few of the bishops
as they pass through the gates of Nicsa, each accom-
panied by at least two presbyters and three slaves,
riding on horseback or in carriages, with a train of
baggage animals following. Alexander was there,
bringing with him fourteen bishops from the valley
of the Nile and five from Libya. The most con-
spicuous of these were Potammon of HeracleopoHs
and Paphnutius from the Thebaid, both of whom
had lost an eye in the late persecution, while Paph-
nutius limped painfully, for he had been hamstrung.
Eustathius, the Patriarch of Antioch, came at the
head of the Syrian and Palestinian bishops, some of
whom, like Eusebius of Caesarea, were gravely sus-
pected of being unsound in the Faith and of having
been influenced by the seductions of Arianism, while
others, like Macarius of Jerusalem, were staunch

2 14 Constantine

supporters of Alexander. Another group hailed from
the far Euphrates and Armenia — John of Persia,
James of Nisibis in Mesopotamia, Aitallaha of Edessa,
and Paul of Neo-Csesarea, the tendons of whose wrists
had been seared with hot irons. Another group
came from near at hand, the bishops of what we
now call Asia Minor, within the sphere of influence
of the imperial city of Nicomedia and of its Bishop,
Eusebius. He, too, was there with his friends, The-
ognis of Nicaea, Menophantus of Ephesus, and Maris
of Chalcedon, all committed to the cause and to the
doctrines of Arius. Then there were a group of
Thracian, Macedonian, and Greek bishops, a few
from the islands, and Csecilianus from Carthage.

Arius^JpOj u'as present with his few faithful hench-
men from Egypt, proudly self-confident as ever, but
trusting mainly to the advocacy of Eusebius of Nico-
media and to the influence of the moderates, Ijke
Eoisehiu-s-of Csesarea. But during the years that he
had been absent from Alexandria a new protagonist
had arisen among the ranks of his opponents. Alex-
ander, so runs the legend, had one day seen from the
windows of his house a group of boys playing at
" church." Thinking that the imitation was too close
to the reality and that the lads were carrying the game
too far, the Bishop went out to check them and got
into conversation with the boy who was taking the
lead in their serious sport. Impressed by his earnest-
ness, he took him into his house and trained him for
the ministry. It was Athanasius, who now, as a
"young deacon of twenty-five, accompanied Alex-
ander to Nicaea, having already by his cleverness and

The Council of Nicaea 215

zeal gained a remarkable ascendency over the mind
of his superior. This slip of a man — for he was of
very slender build and insignificant stature — was to
lay at Nicaea the sure foundations of his extraordin-
ary and unparalleled fame as the champion of the
Catholic Faith.

So the Council assembled in the June of 325 in
the charming city of Nicaea, on the shores of the
Ascanian lake. The intense interest which it aroused
was not confined to those who were to take part in
it, or even to the Christian population of the city and
district. It spread, so we are expressly told, to those
who still clung to the old religion. Debates on the
nature of the Fatherhood of God and the Sonship of
Christ would be almost as welcome and absorbing to
a Neo-Platonist philosopher as to a Christian bishop.
His pleasure in the intellectual exercise was marred
by no anxiety lest it should result in disturbance of
happy and settled belief. When Greek met Greek
they began forthwith to argue, and so, without wait-
ing for the Council formally to open, the early arriv-
als at Nicaea commenced their discussions with all
comers on the question of the hour.

The story of one of these informal encounters is
told by most of the ecclesiastical writers. A certain
pagan philosopher was holding forth with great flu-
ency and making mock of the Christian mysteries, to
the amusement of a number of bystanders. Finally,
his challenge of contradiction was accepted by " a
simple old man, one of the confessors of the persecu-
tion," who knew nothing of dialectics. As he moved
forward to answer the scoffer there was a burst of

2i6 Constantine

laughter from some of those present, while the Chris-
tians trembled lest their unskilled champion should
be turned to ridicule by his practised opponent. Their
anxiety, however, was soon set at rest. " In the name
of Jesus Christ, O philosopher, listen ! " Such was the
old man's exordium, and the burden of his few un-
studied words was to restate his " artless, unques-
tioning belief " * in the cardinal truths of Christianity.
There was no argument. " If you believe," he said,
"tell me so." "I believe," said the philosopher,
compelled, as he afterwards explained it, to become
a Christian by some marvellous power. Such is the
version of Sozomen ; according to Socrates the old
man said, " Christ and the apostles committed to us
no dialectical art and no vain deception, but plain,
bare doctrine, which is guarded by faith and good
works." f When we consider the endless floods of
dialectical subtlety which were poured out during
and after the Council of Nicaea by those engaged in
the Arian controversy, it seems rather biting irony
that a pagan philosopher should have been thus
easily and rapidly converted from darkness to light.
It is certain, however, that many of the bishops
collected at Nicaea belonged to the same class as this
"simple old man," peasants who had had no theo-
logical training and owed their elevation — by the
suffrages of their congregations — to the conspicuous
uprightness of their lives. Such a one was Spyridion,
of Cyprus, a shepherd in mind, speech, and dress, but

* dnepispyaoi TtKjTEzojitev.

\ yvixvijv yvdi.njy, TttdvEi xdi naXoIi spyoi? qivXazTo-
Hevrjv. — Socrates, i., 8.

The Council of Nicaea 217

with a turn for rustic humour. Around his name
many legends have gathered, and none is more de-
hghtful than that which tells how he and his deacon
set out for Nicaea mounted on two mules, a white
and a chestnut. On the journey they came to an
inn where they found a number of other bishops
bound on the same errand. These prelates feared
that so rustic a figure as Spyridion would bring dis-
credit on their religion and appear in grotesque con-
trast with the splendour of the Imperial Court. So
during the night they caused the two mules to be
decapitated, thinking that they would thus prevent
Spyridion from resuming his journey. The good
Bishop was aroused before daybreak by his deacon,
who told him of the disaster. Spyridion simply
bade him attach the heads to the dead bodies, and,
on this being done, the mules rose to their feet as
though nothing unusual had happened. When day
broke, it was found that the deacon had attached
the heads to the wrong shoulders ; the white mule
now sported a chestnut head and the chestnut a
white. Still, it was not thought necessary to repeat
the miracle and change the heads, for the mules ap-
parently suffered no inconvenience.

The preliminary meetings of the Council were held
in the principal church of Nicaea and continued until
the arrival of the Emperor, which was not until after
July 3rd, the anniversary of his victory over Licinius.
Then the state opening took place in the great hall
of the palace. Eusebius gives us a graphic account
of the memorable scene.* Special invitations had

* De Vita Constant.^ iii., lo.

2i8 Constantine

been sent to all whose presence was desired, and
these had entered and taken their places in grave
and orderly fashion on either side of the hall. Then
expectant silence fell upon the company. As the
moment for the Emperor's entry approached, some
of the members of his immediate entourage began to
arrive, but Eusebius is careful to mention that there
were no guards or ofificers in armour, "only friends
who avowed the faith of Christ." At the signal that
Constantine was at hand, the whole assembly swept
to its feet, and the Emperor passed through their
midst like " some heavenly angel of God, clad in
glittering raiment that seemed to gleam and flash
with bright effulgent rays of light, encrusted as it
was with gold and precious stones." Yet, though
Constantine was thus dazzling in externals, it was
evident— at least to the penetrating eye of the
courtier bishop — that his mind was " beautified by
pity and godly fear." For was not this revealed by
his downcast eyes, his heightened colour, and his
modest bearing? Advancing to the upper end of
the hall, Constantine stood facing the assembly,
while a low golden stool was brought for him, and
then, when the bishops motioned to him to be
seated, he took his seat, and the whole audience fol-
lowed his example. Beyond doubt, most of the
bishops then gazed for the first time upon the Em-
peror to whom they could not be sufficiently grateful
for all he had done for the Church, and Constantine
himself might well be flattered and pleased at the
homage, evidently sincere, that was being offered to
him, as well as a little nervous at the thought that

The Council of Nicaea 219

these were the principal ministers and representatives
of the God to whom he had tendered allegiance.
There would have been no downcast eye, no blush,
no marked modesty of carriage, we may suspect, if
it had been a council of augurs and flamens that
Constantine had summoned. In that case the Em-
peror would have been perfectly at his ease as he
advanced up the hall, conscious that he was the
supreme head of all the priesthoods represented in
his presence, and that he was not only worshipper
but worshipped.

Then, says Eusebius, after a few introductory
words of welcome had been spoken, the Emperor
rose and delivered a brief address in Latin which
was presently translated into Gree^. He expressed
his delight at finding himself in the presence of such
a Council, " united in a common harmony of senti-
ment," and prayed that no malignant enemy might
avail to disturb it, for " internal dissensions in the
Church of God were far more to be feared than any
battle or war." In well chosen language he ex-
plained the overwhelming importance of unity' and
implored his hearers as " dear friends, as ministers
of God, and as faithful servants of their common
Lord and Saviour," to begin from that moment to
" discard the causes of dissension which had existed
among them and loosen the knots of controversy
by the laws of peace." The excellent impression
created by this speech was intensified by the next
act of the Emperor. On his arrival at Nicsea he
had found awaiting him a great number of peti-
tions addressed to him by the bishops accusing

220 Constantine

one another of heresy, or political intrigue, or too
strenuous activity on behalf of the fallen Licinius.
Socrates, indeed, says that " the majority of the
Bishops " were levelling charges against one another.
But they received no encouragement from Constan-
tine. Seated there among them he produced the
incriminatory documents from the folds of his toga,
called for a brazier, and threw the rolls upon the fire,
protesting with an oath that not one of them had
been opened or read. " Christ," he said, " bids him
who hopes for forgiveness forgive an erring brother."
It was a dignified and noble rebuke. The story
reads best in this, its simplest form. Theodoretus
amplifies the Emperor's rebuke and puts into his
mouth the dangerous doctrine that, if bishops sin,
their offences ought to be hushed up, lest their
flock be scandalised or be encouraged to follow
their example. He would even, he said, throw his
own purple over an offending bishop to avoid the
evils and contagion of publicity.

Such was the opening of the Council. The Em-
peror had scored a great personal triumph and had
set the bishops a notable example of magnanimity.
But it was not imitated. No sooner had the actual
business of the Council begun than the flood-gates
of controversy were opened. According to Euse-
bius, the Emperor remained to listen to their mu-
tual recriminations, giving ear patiently to all sides,
and doing what he could to assuage animosities by
making the most of everything that seemed to
tend towards compromise. Unfortunately, the re-
ports of the Council are strang^Iy^jncojiiplete. It

The Council of Nicsea 221

is pot even explicitly stated who presided. The
presidency of the Emperor was one only of honour;
the actual presidents were probably the legates of
Pope Sylvester, viz., Hosius of Cordova and the
two presbyters, Vito and Vincentius. But into the
controversy which rages round this point we need
not enter.

The general feeling of the Council was not long in
declaring itself. Arius, who was regarded as a de-
fendant on his trial, made his position absolutely
clear. He did not envelop himself, as he might
have done, in a cloud of metaphysics from which it
would have been difficult to gather his precise mean-
ing. On the contrary, he seems to have come pre-
pared with a resume of his doctrines, and to have
been ready to defend his outposts as resolutely as
his citadel. Immediately, therefore, the Council
became split up into contending parties. There were
the out-and-out Arians, few but formidable, and the
out-and-out Trinitarians, led with great ability by
the young Athanasius, whose reputation steadily
rose as the days passed by. There was also a mid-
dle party, led by Eusebius of Nicomedia and sup-
ported by Eusebius of Caesarea, whose intellectual
and personal sympathies lay with Arius rather than
with Athanasius, though they saw that the great
majority of the Council were against them, and that
Arius and his opinions were sure of excommunica-
tion. Theirs was what we may call the " cross-bench
mind." They doubtless felt, what many who ap-
proach this controversy at the present day feel, that
if once appeal is made to Reason, there must be no

222 Constantine

further appeal beyond that to Faith, as to a higher
Court. Those who invoke Reason must not turn
round, when they find themselves driven into an
ugly corner, and condemn "the Pride of Reason."
In our view, Eusebius of Nicomedia was not the ma-
lignant, self-seeking, and entirely worldly prelate he
is so often represented as having been, but a Bishop
who honestly regretted that this question had been
raised at all, inasmuch as he foresaw that it must
rend the Church in twain. He would have preferred,
that is to say, that the exact nature of the Sonship
of C-hrist should not be made a matter of close defini-
tion, should not be made a point of doctrine whereon
salvation depended, should not be inserted in a cree37
but^Mt-rathert^the'individual conscience or to the
individual intellect. Once the question was raised,
his intellectual honesty led him to side with Arius,
but he considered that to tear the indivisible gar-
ment of Christ was a crime to be avoided at any
cost. *^Eusebius was bent upon a compromise. Arius
was his old friend, and his patron, the Emperor, pas-
sionately desired unity. The personal wish of the
monarch would be sure to have some, though we
cannot say precisely how much, weight with him in
determining his policy.

Some of the sessions of the Council were marked
by uproar and violence. Athanasius declares that
when the bishops heard extracts read from the Thalia
of Arius, they raised the cry of " impious," and
closed their eyes and shut their ears tight against
the admission of such appalling blasphemy. There
is a legend, indeed, that St. Nicholas, Bishop of

The Council of Nicaea 223

Myra, was so carried away by his indignation that he
smote Arius a terrific blow upon the jaw for daring
to give utterance to words so vile. Theodoretus
declares that the Arians drew up the draft of a creed
which they were willing to subscribe and had it read
before the Council. But it was at once denounced
as a " bastard and vile-begotten document " and
torn to pieces. Then a praiseworthy attempt was
made to begin at the beginning. The proposition
was put forward that the Son was from God.
" Agreed," said the Trinitarians ; " Agreed," said
the Arians, on the authority of such texts as " There
is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things,"
and " All things are become new and all things
are of God." " But will you agree," asked the Trin-
itarians, " that the Son is the true Power and Image
of the Father, like to Him in all things. His eter-
nal Image, undivided from Him and unalterable?"
" Yes," said the Arians after some discussion among
themselves, and they quoted the texts : " Man is the
glory and image of God," " For we which live are
always delivered unto death for Jesus' sake," and
" In him we live and move and have our being."
" But will you admit," continued the Trinitarians,
"that the Son is Very God?" "Yes," replied the
Arians, " for he is Very God if he has been made
so." Athanasius tells us that while these strange
questions and answers were being tossed from one
side of the Council to the other, he saw the Arians
" whispering and making signals one to the other
with their eyes." It is to be regretted that we
have no independent account. The savage abuse

224 Constantine

with which Athanasius attacks the Arians in his
"Letter to the African Bishops " makes his version
of what took place at the Council exceedingly sus-
pect, "^e speaks of their "wiliness," and delivers
himself of the sarcasm that as they were cradled in
ordure their arguments also partook of a similar
character.* Most of the vilification in the opening
stages of the Arian controversy — at any rate most of
that which has survived — seems to have been on the
Trinitarian side.

The word "Homoousion" had at length been
uttered and, strangely enough, by Eusebius of Nico-
media, though it was soon to become the rallying
cry of his opponents. He had employed it, ap-
parently, to clinch the argument against the Trini-
tarians, for, he said, if they declared the Son to be
Very God, that was tantamount to declaring that
the Son was of one substance with the Father.
Greatly, no doubt, to his surprise, it was seized upon
by his opponents as the word which, of all others,
precisely crystallised their position and their objec-
tions to Arianism. But before the fight began to
rage round this word, the moderates came forward
with another suggestion of compromise, Eusebius
of Caesarea read before the Council the confession of
faith which was in use in his diocese, after having
been handed down from bishop to bishop. The
Emperor had read it and approved ; perhaps, he
urged, it might similarly commend itself to the ac-
ceptance of all parties in the Council. The creed
began as follows :

* avToi nev c3s kx Konpiai orrei eXaXTjdav a'A^QcaS ditoyfji.

The Council of Nicaea 225

" I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of
all things both visible and invisible, and in one Lord
Jesus Christ, the Word of God, God of God, Light of
Light, Life of Life, the only-begotten Son, the First-born
of every creature, begotten of the Father before all
worlds, by whom also all things were made. Who for
our salvation was made flesh and lived amongst men,
and suffered, and rose again on the third day, and as-
cended to the Father, and shall come in glory to judge
the quick and the dead. And I believe in the Holy
Ghost."

Eusebius, in writing later to the people of his diocese,
said that v^hen this creed was read out,

" no room for contradiction appeared ; but our most
pious Emperor, before any one else, testified that it com-
prised most orthodox statements. He confessed, more-
over, that such were his sentiments, and he advised all
present to agree to it, and subscribe to its articles with
the insertion of the single word 'one in substance.'"

Indeed, little objection could be taken to the creed
of Eusebius, which might have been subscribed to
with equal sincerity by Arius and Alexander. But
the great problem, which had brought the Coun-
cil together, would have remained entirely unsettled.
The creed was rrot- sufricTeTTtly''precise. It left open-
ings for all kinds of heresies. The Trinitarians,
therefore, insisted upon inserting a few words which
should more precisely define the relationship between
the Father and the Son and their real nature and
substance, and should retain undiminished the ma-
jesty and Godhead of the Son. They put forward

226 Constantine

the simple antithesis 'begotten not made" in refer-
ence to the Son, whereby the Arian doctrine that the
Son was a creature was effectually negatived. And
they also adopted as their own the word which has
made the Council famous alike with believers and
with sceptics — the word "Homoousion."

Dean Stanley, in his History of the Eastern
Church,'^ has well said that this is " one of those
remarkable words which creep into the language of
philosophy and theology and then suddenly acquire
a permanent hold on the minds of men." It was
a word with a notable, if not a very remote past. It
had been orthodox and heretical by turns, a fact
which is not surprising when we consider the vague-
ness of the term " ousia " and the looseness with
which it had been employed by philosophical writers.

"It first distinctly appeared," says Dean Stanley,
"in the statement, given by Irenaeus, of the doctrines
of Valentius; then for a moment it acquired a more
orthodox reputation in the writings of Dionysius and
Theognostus of Alexandria; then it was coloured with a
dark shade by association with the teaching of Manes;
next proposed as a test of orthodoxy at the Council
of Antioch against Paul of Samosata, and then by that
same Council was condemned as Sabellian."

Obviously, therefore, it was not a word to com-
mand instantaneous acceptance; its old associations
lent a certain specious weight to the repeated ac-
cusation of the Arians that the Trinitarians were
importing into the Church fantastic subtleties bor-

* Lecture iv.

The Council of Nicsea 227

rowed from Greek philosophy, and were encrusting
the simple faith and the simple language, of Christ
and the apostles with alien thoughts and formulae.
Athanasius meets that argument with a"/z^ qiioque^'
asking where in Scripture one can find the phrases
which Arius had made his own. Modern theologians
have replied with much greater force that this im-
portation of philosophy into the Christian religion
was inevitable.

" The Church," says Canon Bright,* " had come out
into the open, had been obliged to construct a theologi-
cal position against the tremendous attacks of Gnosti-
cism and to provide for educated enquirers in the great
centres of Greek learning. She had become conscious
of her debt to the wise.

Elsewhere, in the same chapter, he says: "It
would, indeed, have been childish to attempt to
banish metaphysics from theology. Any religion
with a doctrine about God or man must, as such, be
metaphysical." v-And for the Arians to complain of
the borrowing of technical terms from philosophy by
their opponents was palpably absurd. "^ The whole rai-
son^d'etre of the"Arian movement was its professed
rationalism, its appeal to reason and logic, its con-
sciousness, in other words, " of its debt to the wise,"
and its desire to be able to debate boldly with the
enemy in the gate. Really, therefore, the adoption
of such a term was of great practical convenience,
especially when once its meaning was rigidly defined.
The Homoousion, whereby the Word or the Son was

* Age of the Fathers, chap. vi.

228 Constantine

declared to be of one essence or substance with the
Father, asserted the undiminished Divinity of the
Son of God, through whom salvation came into
the world.

It is for theologians to expand upon such a
text, but it needs no theologian to point out the
obvious truth that any diminution of the majesty of
the Son of God must have impaired the vitality and
converting power of Christianity. The word, there-
fore, was eagerly adopted by those who had been
commissioned to draw up a creed to meet the views
of the orthodox majority of the Council. That
creed was at length decided upon; Hosius of Cor-
dova announced its completion; and it was read
aloud for the first time to the Council, apparently
by Hermogenes, subsequently Bishop of Caesarea in
Cappadocia. It ran as follows :

" We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker
of all things both visible and invisible. And in one
Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the
Father, only begotten, that is from the substance of the
Father, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very
God, begotten not made, being of one substance with
the Father, by whom all things were made, both in
heaven and earth. Who for us men and for our salvation
came down and was made flesh, and was made man, suf-
fered and rose on the third day, ascended into the
heavens and will come again to judge the quick and
the dead. And we believe in the Holy Ghost."

Such was the text of the famous document which
ever since has borne the title of the Nicene Creed.
It has been added to during the centuries. It has

The Council of Nicaea 229

even lost one or two of its qualifying and explana-
tory sentences. But these modifications have not
touched its central theses, and, above all, the Ho-
moousion remains.

In order to make the position absolutely clear
and preclude even the most subtle from placing an
heretical interpretation upon the words employed,
there was added a special anathema of the Arian
doctrines.

" But those who say, ' Once He was not,' and * Before
He was begotten, He was not,' and ' He came into ex-
istence out of what was not,' or those who profess
that the Son of God is of a different ' person ' or * sub-
stance,' or that He was * made,' or is ' changeable ' or
' mutable' — all these are anathematised by the CathoUc
Church."

This was the formal condemnation of Arianism in
all the Protean shapes it was capable of assum-
ing, and the vast majority of the bishops cordially
approved.

But what of Arius and his friends, and what of
the Eusebian party? Interest centred in the ac-
tion of the latter. Would they accept the text and
sign? Or would they hold fast to the condemned
doctrines ? They loudly protested, of course, against
the anathema, and the Homoousion in the creed
itself was repugnant to their intellect. Eusebius
of Caesarea asked for a day in which to consider
the matter. Theii he signed, and wrote a letter
to his flock at Caesarea excusing and justifying
his conduct, and explaining in what sense he could

230 Constantine

conscientiously subscribe to the Homoousion. He
bowed to the clear verdict of the majority and to
the passionate wish of the Emperor. Constantine
insisted that the creed should be accepted as the
final expression of Catholic belief, though he would
have been just as ready to accept the creed of
Eusebius himself. The presence or absence of the
Homoousion was of little consequence to him.
What he wanted was unity, and he was determ-
ined to have it, for he was already threatening re-
calcitrants with banishment. Eusebius of Csesarea
signed. He submitted, in other words, when the
Church, meeting in Council, had spoken. The
Palestinian and Syrian bishops who had supported
him in the debates followed his example, comply-
ing, we are told, with eagerness and alacrity.

Eusebius of Nicomedia, Theognis of Nicaea, and
Maris of Chalcedon made a rather more resolute
stand. According to one account, they consulted
Constantia, the Emperor's sister, and she persuaded
them to sign on the ground that they ought to
merge their individual scruples in the will of the
majority, lest the Emperor should throw over
Christianity in disgust at the dissension among the
Christians. According to another story, Constantia
recommended them to insert an " iota " into the text
of the creed, and thus change the Homoousion
into the Homoiousion, to which they could sub-
scribe without violence to their consciences. They
could admit, that is to say, that the Son was of
"like" substance to the Father when they could
not admit that He was of the " same " sub-

The Council of Nicaea 231

stance. The story is obviously a fiction and part
of the campaign of calumny against Eusebius of
Nicomedia. He and his two friends signed the
creed — not fraudulently or with mental reservations
as the story suggests — but for precisely the same
reason that Eusebius of Caesarea had signed it.
It was the Emperor's wish and they were willing
to accept the decision of the Council, l^t they still
stood out. against signing the anathema. Two of
them, Eusebius and Theognis, wefe^deprived' of
their sees and sent into exile. Whether their
degradation and exile were due wholly to this re-
fusal is doubtful, though as an interesting parallel
it may be pointed out that Eusebius, Bishop of
Vercellae, and Dionysius, Bishop of Milan, were
exiled by the Emperor Valens in 355 because
they refused to subscribe the condemnation of
Athanasius at the Third Council of Milan. Arius
and his two most faithful supporters were excom- ^
municated and banished and their writings, notably ^
the Thalia, were burnt with ignominy. "j'N^

The labours of the Council were not yet concluded.
The Bishops decided that Easter should be observed
simultaneously throughout the Church, and that the
Judaic time should give way to the Christian. They
then drew up what are known as the Canons of
Nicsea. We may indicate some of the more import-
ant, as, for example, the fifth, which provided that
all questions of excommunication should be dis-
cussed in provincial councils to be held twice a year;
the fourth, that there should be no less than three
bishops present at the consecration of every bishop,

v? -O

232 Constantine

and the fifteenth, which prohibited absolutely the
translation of any bishop, presbyter, or deacon from
one city to another. Some of the canons, such as
the twentieth, which prohibited kneeling during
church worship on Sundays and between Easter
and Pentecost; and the eighteenth, which rebuked
the presumption of deacons, have merely an an-
tiquarian interest. The seventeenth forbade all
usury on the part of the clergy; the third en-
acted that no minister of the Church, whatever
his rank, should have with him in his house a
woman of any kind, unless it were a mother, a sister,
or an aunt, or some one quite beyond suspicion.
While this canon was under discussion, one of the
most exciting debates of the Council took place.
The proposal was made that all the married clergy
should be required to separate from their wives, and
this received a considerable measure of support.
But the opposition was led by the confessor Paph-
nutius, whose words carried the more weight from
the fact that he himself had been a lifelong celibate.
He debated the subject with great warmth, main-
taining at the top of his shrill voice that marriage was
honourable and the bed undefiled,* and so brought
a majority of the assembly round to his way of
thinking.

Then at last this historic Council was ready to
break up. But before the bishops separated, the
Emperor celebrated the completion of his twentieth
year of reign by inviting them all to a great banquet.
* rijxiov eivai xdt ttjv xoittjv xdi avrov d^davrov rov
ydjiiov.

The Council of Nicaea 233

" Not one of themT'-^'sajrs-Eusebius, * " was missing and
the scene was of great splendour. Detachments of the
bodyguard and other troops surrounded the entrance of
the palace with drawn swords and through their midst the
men of God proceeded without fear into the innermost
apartments, in which were some of the Emperor's own
companions at table, while others reclined on couches
laid on either side."

He gave gifts to each according to his rank, singling
out a few for special favour. Among these was
Paphnutius. Socrates says that the Emperor had
often sent for him to the palace and kissed the vacant
eye socket of the maimed and crippled confessor.
Acesius the Novatian was another, though he stead-
ily refused to abate one jot or tittle of his old con-
victions. Constantine listened without offence, as
the old man declared his passionate belief that those
who after baptism had committed a sin were un-
worthy to participate in the divine mysteries, and
merely remarked, with sportive irony, " Plant a lad-
der, then, Acesius, and cHmb up to Heaven alone ! " t
At the closing session the Emperor delivered a
short farewell speech, in which_liis__thejiie was-again
the urgent -neeTt'ofnunity ainl~cmtferffHty^4thin the
Christian Church. He implored the bishops to for-
get and forgive past offences and live in peace, not
envying one another's excellencies, but regarding
the special merit of each as contributing to the total
merit of all. They should leave judgment to God ;

■^ De Vita Constant., iii., 15.

f 6£?, gJ 'Axedts, Hkii^iaxa nai i.i6vo<i avafirjU ti'i rov
ovpavov.

234 Constantine

when they quarrelled among themselves they simply
gave their enemies an opportunity to blaspheme.
How were they to convert the world, he asked, if
not by the force of their example? And then he
went on to speak plain common sense. Men do
not become converts, he said, from their zeal for
the truth. Some join for what they can get, some
for preferment, some to secure charitable help, some
for friendship's sake. " But the true lovers of true
argument are very few : scarce, indeed, is the friend
of truth."* Therefore, he concluded. Christians
should be like physicians, and prescribe for each
according to his ailments. They must not be fana-
tics: they must be accommodating. Constantine
could not possibly have given sounder advice to a
body of men whose besetting sin was likely to be
fanaticism and not laxity of doctrine. The passage,
therefore, is not without significance. The Church
had already begun to act upon the State ; here was
the State palpably beginning to react upon the
Church— in the direction of reasonableness, com-
promise, and an accommodating temper. Then,
after begging the bishops to remember him in their
prayers, he dismissed them to their homes, and they
left Nicaea,says Eusebius, glad at heart and rejoicing
in the conviction that, in the presence of their Em-
peror, the Church, after long division, had been
united once more.

Constantine evidently shared the same conviction.
He had no doubt whatever that the Arian heresy
was finally silenced. So we find him writing to

* Hcit dTtdvtoi av rrji dXr/Qei'ai q)tXoi.

The Council of Nicaea 235

the church at Alexandria^declaring that all points
which seemed to be open to different interpretations
have been thoroughly discussed and settled. All
must abide by the chose jugce. Arius had been
proved to be a servant of the Devil. Three hun-
dred bishops had said it, and " that which has
commended itself to the judgment of three hun-
dred bishops cannot be other than the doctrine of
God, seeing that the Holy Spirit, dwelling in the
minds of so many honourable men, must have thor-
oughly enlightened them as to the will of God." *
He took for granted, therefore, that those who had
been led away by Arius would return at once to the
Catholic fold. The Emperor also wrote another let-
ter, which he addressed " To the Churches," in which
he declared that each question at issue had been dis-
cussed until a decision was arrived at " acceptable to
Him who is the inspector of all things," and added
that nothing was henceforth left for dissension or
controversy in matters of faith. f Most of the letter,
indeed, consists of argument shewing the desirability
of a uniform celebration of Easter, but one can see
that the leading thought in the writer's mind is that
the last word had at length been uttered on the car-
dinal doctrines of the Christian Faith. The Council
had been a brilliant success. The three hundred
bishops announced to the Catholic Church the de-
cisions of their " great and holy Synod," with the

* 0 yap ToK vptaHo6ioi'i tnidHoTCof; Tjpsdsv ovSsv edrtv
evEpov ff Tov Qeov yvoojur/ (Soc, i., 9).

f Goi fjir)8kv ETi Ttpoi dtxovoiav ^ TtidzEooi aficpi6fitjTrj6lV
v7toXei7rs69ai {ibidem).

236

Constantine

explicit declaration that *' all heresy has been cut
out of the Church." * Arius was banished and
Eusebius of Nicomedia with him. The triumph
of orthodoxy seemed finally assured.

* iiti TO Ttddav a'ips6tv kKKoitrjvat (Soc, i., 9).

CHAPTER XII

THE MURDERS OF CRISPUS AND FAUSTA

WE saw in the last chapter how Constantine
presided over the dehberations of the bishops
at Nicsea, mild, benignant, gracious, and conde-
scending. It is a very different being whom we see
at Rome in 326, suspicious, morose, and striking
down in blind fury his own gallant son. The con-
trast is startling, the cause obscure and mysterious,
but if the secret is to be discovered at all, it is prob-
ably to be found in the jealousies which raged in
the Imperial House.

We must look a little closer at the family of Constan-
tine. The Emperor himself was in the very prime
of middle age, just turning his fiftieth year. His
eldest son, by his first marriage with Minervina, was
the hope of the Empire. Crispus, as we have seen,
had won distinction on the Rhine, and had just
given signal proof of his capacity by his victories over
the navy of Licinius in the Hellespont, which had
facilitated the capture of Byzantium. He was im-
mensely popular, and the Empire looked to him, as
it had looked to Tiberius and Drusus three centuries
before, as to a strong pillar of the Imperial throne.
237

238 Constantine

But Crispus — if the usually accepted theory be right
— had a bitter and implacable enemy in the Em-
press Fausta, who regarded him as standing in the
path of her own children, and menacing their inter-
ests by his proved merit and abilities. The eldest
of her sons, who bore his father's name, was not yet
in his teens; the second, Constantius, had been born
in 319; the third, Constans, was a year younger.
Her three daughters were infants or not yet born.
These three young princes, like Caius and Lucius, —
to pursue the Augustan parallel, — threatened rivalry
to Crispus as they grew up, the more so, perhaps,
because Constantine had always possessed the do-
mestic virtues which were rare in a Roman Emperor.
In his young days one of the court Panegyrists
had eulogised him as a latter-day miracle — a prince
who had never sowed any wild oats, who had act-
ually had a taste for matrimony while still young,
and, following the example of his father, Constan-
tius, had displayed true piety by consenting to be-
come a father,* Another Panegyrist praised him
for " yielding himself to the laws of matrimony as
soon as he ceased to be a boy," and Eusebius, more
than once, emphasises his virtues as a husband and
parent. Constantine, we suspect, was a man easily
swayed by a strong-minded woman, ambitious to
oust a step-son from his father's favour.

There was yet another great lady of the reigning
house whose influence upon the Emperor has to be
taken into account. This was his mother, Helena,

* Novum jam turn miraculum juvenis uxorius {Pan, Vet., vi.,
c. 2 et 4),

CONSTANTINE THE GREAT AND HiS MOTHER, ST.
HELENA, HOLY, EQUAL TO THE APOSTLES."

FROM A PICTURE DISCOVERED 1345, IN AN OLD CHURCH OF MESEMBRIA.)
FROM GROSVENOR'S "CONSTANTINOPLE."

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 239

now nearly eighty years of age, but still vigorous
and active enough in mind and body to undergo
the fatigues of a journey to Jerusalem. Eusebius*
dwells upon the estimation in which Constantine
held his mother, to whom full Imperial honours were
paid. Golden coins were struck in her honour, bear-
ing her effigy and the inscription, " Flavia Helena
Augusta." She amassed great riches, and although
it is impossible directly to trace her influence upon
State affairs, there is reason to believe that Helena,
who owed her conversion, according to Eusebius, to
the persuasion of her son, was a woman of pro-
nounced and decided character and a great power at
court.

There was also Constantino's half-sister, Constan-
tia, the widow of Licinius, whose intercession with
her brother had secured for her defeated husband
an ill-kept promise of pardon and protection. Con-
stantia was to exhibit even more striking proof of
her influence a little later on by her skilful advocacy
of the cause of Arius and Eusebius of Nicomedia,
and her share in procuring the banishment of Athan-
asius. These great ladies move in shadowy outline
across the stage ; we can scarcely distinguish their
features or their form ; but we think we can see their
handiwork most unmistakably in the appalling trage-
dies which we now have to narrate.

In 326 Constantine went to Rome to celebrate the
completion of his twentieth year of reign. Diocle-
tian had done the same — the only occasion upon
which that great Emperor had ever set foot in the

* De Vita Const., iii., p. 47.

240 Constantine

ancient capital, and even then he made all possible
haste to quit it. But whereas Diocletian had travelled
thither with the intention of abdicating immediately
afterwards, Constantine had no such act of self-abne-
gation in his mind. Yet he was in no festival mood.
Not long after his arrival, there took place the ancient
ceremony known as the Procession of the Knights,
who rode to the Capitol to pay their vows to Jupiter
— the rehgious ceremony which attended the annual
revision of the equestrian lists. Constantine con-
temptuously stayed within his palace on the day and
disdained to watch the Knights ride by. His absence
was made the pretext for some street rioting, which,
we can hardly doubt, had been carefully engineered
beforehand. Rome, still overwhelmingly pagan in
its sympathies, had doubtless heard with bitter an-
ger how the Emperor, the head of the old national
religion, had been taking part in a General Council
of the Christian Church, had admitted bishops and
confessors to the intimacy of his table, and had
boldly declared himself the champion of Christianity.
Constantine's pointed refusal to countenance a time-
honoured ceremony which, while itself of no extra-
ordinary importance, might yet be taken as typical
of the ancient order of things, would easily serve as
pretext for a hostile demonstration. Demonstrations
in Rome no longer menaced the throne now that the
barracks of the Praetorians were empty, but the in-
cident would serve to confirm the suspicions already
clouding the mind of the Emperor.

We can read those suspicions most plainly in an
edict which he had issued at Nicomedia a few months

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 241

before. It was addressed to his subjects in every
province (Ad Universos Provinciales), and in it the
Emperor invited all and sundry to come forward
boldly and keep him well informed of any secret
plotting of which they happened to be cognisant.
No matter how lofty the station of the conspirator
might be, whether governor of a province, ofificer of
the army, or even friend and associate of the Em-
peror, if any one discovered anything he was to tell
what he knew, and the Emperor would not be lack-
ing either in gratitude or substantial reward. " Let
him come without fear," ran the edict, '' and let him
address himself to me ! I will listen to all : I will
myself conduct the investigation* : and if the accuser
does but prove his charge, I will vindicate my wrongs.
Only let him speak boldly and be sure of his case ! "
The hand which wrote this was the hand which
had flung unread into the brazier at Nicaea the in-
criminating petitions of the bishops. What had taken
place in the interval that he should issue an edict
worthy of a Domitian .? The authorities give not the
slightest hint. Was there some great conspiracy
afoot, in the meshes of which Constantine feared to
become entangled, but so cunningly contrived that
the Emperor could only be sensible of its existence,
without being able to lay hands on the intriguers?
Was paganism restless in the East as we have seen it
restless in Rome, at the triumph of its once-despised
and always detested rival ? We do not know. Quite
possibly it was, though with the downfall of Licinius

* hitrepidus et securus accedat : inierpellet me. Ipse audiam
ovinia, ipse cogjjoscam.
i6

242 Constantine

its prospects seemed hopeless. Unless, indeed, there
was some member of the Imperial Family upon
whom paganism rested its hopes and to whom it
looked as its future deliverer ! Was Crispus such a
prince ? Again we do not know. There is not a
scrap of evidence to bear out a theory which has
only been framed as a possible explanation of the
dark mystery of his fate.

Eutropius, whose character sketches, for all their
brevity, usually tally well with known facts, calls
Crispus a prince of the highest merit {virum egre-
giuni). Why then did Constantine turn against him ?
We may, perhaps, see the first sign of the changed
relationship in the fact that in 323 the Csesarship of
Gaul was taken from Crispus and given to the young
Constantius, then a child of seven. So far as is
known, no compensating title or command was of-
fered in exchange, which looks as though Constantine
was disinclined to trust his eldest son any longer
and preferred to keep him in surveillance by his side.
The father may have been jealous of the prowess
and popularity of the son ; the son may have been
ambitious, as Constantine himself had been in his
young days, and have deemed that his services
merited elevation to the rank of an Augustus. Ac-
cording to the system of Diocletian, twenty years of
sovereignty were held to be long enough for the
welfare alike of sovereign and of the Empire. Con-
stantine's term was running out. The system was
not yet formally abandoned ; is it unreasonable to
suppose that Crispus considered he had claims to
rule, or that Constantine, resolved to keep what he

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 243

had won, became estranged from one whom he knew
he was not treating with generosity or with justice?
As we have said, there is no evidence of any
disloyalty on the part of Crispus, but he may have
let incautious expressions fall from his lips which
would be carried to the ears of his father, and he
may have chafed to see himself supplanted by the
young princes, his half-brothers. The boy Caesar,
Constantius, was named consul with his father for
the festival year 326, a distinction which Crispus
may justly have thought to belong by right to him-
self, and he may have seen in this another proof of
the ill-will of the Empress Fausta, and of her influ-
ence over the Emperor. Possibly Crispus was
goaded by anger into some indiscreet action, which
confirmed Constantine's suspicions ; possibly even
he committed some act of disobedience which
gave Constantine the excuse he sought for. At
any rate, in the July or August of 326, Crispus
was arrested in Rome and summarily banished to
Pola in Istria. Tidings of his death soon followed.
Whatever the manner of his death, whether he
was beheaded or was poisoned or committed
suicide, all the authorities agree that he came to a
violent end and that the responsibility rests upon
his father, Constantine. Nor was Crispus the only
victim. With him fell Licinianus, the son of Licin-
ius and Constantia. He was a promising lad {com-
modes indolis, says Eutropius) who could not have
been more than twelve years of age and could not,
therefore, have been guilty of any crime or intrigue
against his uncle.

244 Constantine

One cannot pass by altogether without mention
the story of Zosimus that the reason of Fausta's
implacable hatred of Crispus was not ambition
for her own children, but a still more ungovernable
and much less pardonable passion. Zosimur^ de-
clares that Fausta was enamoured of her step-son,
who rejected her overtures, and so fell a victim,
like another Hippolytus, to the vengeance of this
Roman Phaedra. Most modern historians have re-
jected the story, as emanating from the lively imagina-
tion of a Greek at a loss for a plausible explanation
of a mysterious crime, and we may, with tolerable cer-
tainty, acquit Fausta of so disgraceful a passion.
If, as we suppose, she was the untiring enemy of
Crispus, it is at once more charitable and more
probable to suppose that the motive of her hate
was her fierce ambition for her own sons. For the
moment the Empress conquered. But her triumph
did not last long. Eutropius tells us that soon
afterwards — mox — a vague word equally applicable
to a period of days, weeks, or even months — Fausta
herself was put to death by Constantine. What
was her offence? Philostorgius* declares that she
was discovered in an intrigue with a groom of the
stables — an amour worthy of Messalina herself. But
the story stands suspect, especially when taken in
conjunction with the legend of her passion for Cris-
pus. The one seems invented to bolster up the
other and add to its verisimilitude. The truth is
that nothing is known for certain ; and the whole
episode was probably kept as a profound palace

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 245

secret. One circumstance, however, mentioned by
Aurelius Victor and by Zosimus, merits attention.
Both declare that the Empress-mother, Helena,
was furious at the murder of Crispus. Zosimus
says that she was greatly distressed at her grand-
son's suffering, and could hardly contain herself at
the news of his death {dax^too? rrjv avaipsffiv tov
veov qispovffi^?). Aurelius Victor adds that the
aged Empress bitterly reproached her son for his
cruelty {Cmn emn mater Helena nimio dolore nepotis
increparef). Evidently, Helena favoured Crispus,
the son of Minervina — who, like herself, had been
forced by the exigencies of State to quit her hus-
band's house, and make room for an Emperor's
daughter, — in preference to the children of Constan-
tine and Fausta; evidently therefore, Helena and
Fausta were rival influences at court, each striving
for ascendency. If Crispus's death betokened that
Fausta had gained the upper hand, the death of
Fausta shewed that Helena had succeeded in turning
the tables. When Helena violently reproached her
son for slaying Crispus, we may be sure that she was
aiming her shafts through Constantine at Fausta, and
that when she succeeded in rousing the Emperor
to remorse she succeeded also in kindling his re-
sentment against his wife. It is said that Fausta
was suffocated in a hot bath, but every detail is
open to challenge. Eusebius passes over the entire
episode without a word. He is not only silent as
to the death of Fausta but also as to the death of
Crispus, The courtly Bishop refuses to turn even
a single look towards the crime-stained Palatine, on

246 Constantine

whose gates some lampoon writer had set a paper
with the bitter epigram :

Saturni aurea scecula quis requiret ?
Sunt hcBC gemtnea, sed Neroniana.

( " Who will care to seek the golden age of Saturn ?
Ours is the age of jewels, but jewels of Nero's
setting.") If Constantine, like Saturn, had devoured
his children and had lapsed for the moment into a
savage tyrant of Nero's pattern, it was not for
Eusebius to judge him. He was writing for edifi-
cation. Constantine had averred his willingness
to cast his cloak over a sinning bishop lest scandal
should arise ; ought not an ecclesiastical historian
to cast the cloak of charitable silence over the
crimes of a most Christian Emperor? When, there-
fore, Eusebius describes* how, after the death of
Licinius, men cast aside all their former fears, and
dared to raise their long-downcast eyes and look
up with a smile on their faces and brightness in
their glance ; how they honoured the Emperor in
all the beauty of victory and " his most orderly
sons and Heaven-beloved Caesars"; and how they
straightway forgot their old troubles and all un-
righteousness, and gave themselves up to an en-
joyment of their present good things and their
hope of others to come; it is a healthy corrective
to recall the murderous outbreak of ungovernable
wrath which made Rome shudder as it listened to
the whispered tale of what was taking place in the
recesses of the Palatine. The entire subject is one

*De Vita Const., ii., p. 19.

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 247

on which it is as fascinating as it is easy to speculate.
On the whole, it seems most likely that Constan-
tine's fears had been worked upon to such an extent
that he believed himself surrounded by traitors in
his own family, that the Empress Fausta had been
the leading spirit in the plot to ruin Crispus, and
that when the Emperor discovered his mistake he
turned in fury upon his wife. It may be, as Eu-
tropius suggests, that his mental balance had been
upset by his extraordinary success, that his pro-
sperity and the adulation of the world had been too
much for him.* That is a charitable theory which, in
default of a better, we, too, may as well adopt.

We need not doubt the sincerity of his repent-
ance. Zosimus depicts the Emperor remorsefully
begging the priests of the old religion to purify
him from his crime, and says that when they sternly
refused, Constantine turned to accept the sooth-
ing offices of a wandering Egyptian from Spain.
Another account, current among pagans, was that
he applied for comfort to the philosopher, Sopater,
who would have nothing to say to so heinous a
sinner, and that he then fell in with certain Christ-
ian bishops, who promised him full forgiveness at
the price of repentance and baptism. The motive
of these legends is as obvious as their falsity. The
pagans, in defiance of chronology, sought to explain
the Emperor's conversion to Christianity as a result
of the murders that lay heavy upon his soul, murders
so revolting as only to admit of pardon in the eyes

* Verum insoleutia rerum secundarum aliquantutn Constantinus
ex ilia favor abili aniini docilitate niiitavit (x., p. 6).

248 Constantine

of Christians. Among the late legends of the By-
zantine writer Codinus, we find the story that Con-
stantine raised to the memory of Crispus a golden
statue, which bore the inscription, "To the son
whom I unjustly condemned," and that he fasted
and refused the comforts of life for forty days. Of
even greater interest is the legend that Constan-
tine was baptised by Sylvester, the Bishop of Rome,
and, in gratitude for the promise of pardon, be-
stowed upon the see of Rome the damnosa hcBredi-
tas of the Temporal Power.

There is no necessity to discuss at length the
once famous, but now simply notorious, Donation
of Constantine. The legend is so grotesque that
one wonders it ever imposed on the credulity even
of the most ignorant. For it represented Constan-
tine as being smitten with leprosy for having perse-
cuted the Church and for having driven the good
Pope Sylvester into exile. The Emperor consulted
soothsayers, priests, and physicians in turn, and was
at last informed that his only chance of cure lay in
bathing in the blood of little children. Forthwith, a
number of children were collected for this dreadful
purpose, but their cries awoke the pity of Constan-
tine and he gave them respite. Then, as he slept,
Peter and Paul appeared to him in a dream and
bade him let the children go free, recall Sylvester
from exile, and submit at his hands to the rite of
baptism. This was done ; the baptism was admin-
istered ; Constantine was cured of the leprosy, and
in return he made over to Sylvester and his succes-
sors full temporal dominion over the city of Rome,

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 249

the greater part of Italy, and certain other provinces.
Such is the story, which was long accepted without
demur and confidently appealed to as the origin of
the Temporal Power. It is now universally ad-
mitted that the whole legend is a fraud and the
letter of Constantine to Sylvester announcing the
Donation a forgery of the eighth century. Con-
stantine never persecuted the Church; he never had
leprosy ; he never contemplated bathing in infants'
blood ; he did not receive the rite of baptism until
he was on his death-bed, and he did not hand over
to the Pope the fee simple and title deeds of Rome
and Italy. The Donation of Constantine belongs to
the museum of historical forgeries.*

But if the repentance of Constantine did not take
the form of stupendous endowments for the Bishop
of Rome, we may be tolerably sure that it did man-
ifest itself in the increased zeal of the Emperor for
the building of churches, and especially in his mu-
nificence to the Christians of Rome. It is tempting,
also, to connect with Constantine's remorse and his
mother's sorrow for the murder of her grandson the
pilgrimage of Helena to Palestine and Jerusalem,
which followed almost immediately. Around that

* We may quote the most striking sentence in the document :
Ecce tarn palatium nostrum quam urbem Romatn, et omnes totius
Italia et occidentalium ycgionum provincias, loca et civitates , prtzfato
beatissimo Poiitifici ttostya Sylvestro, universali papa, concedunus
alque relinquimtis. The forger forged boldly, and then went on to
add that Constantine withdrew to Constantinople, because it was not
just that an earthly monarch (terrenus itnperator) should exercise
sovereignty in the city where the Head of the Christian religion had
been installed by the Lord of Heaven {ab iinperatore ccelesti).

250 Constantine

visit there clustered many legends which, as time
went on, multiplied amazingly. Of these the most
famous is that which is known as the Invention of the
Cross. This, in its fullest form many centuries after
the event, ran something as follows : When Hel-
ena reached Jerusalem she asked to be shown the
Holy Sepulchre. But no one could tell her where
the exact spot was. Buildings had been erected
upon Mount Calvary and the adjoining land ; a
temple of Venus was still standing near the place
where the body of Christ must have been laid.
Helena instituted a careful search, and the authority
of the Emperor's mother would be warrant sufificient
for the disturbance of the occupiers. At first their
toil met with no success. Then a very clever Jew
came forward with a story that he had heard of an
old tradition that the site of the Sepulchre lay
in such and such a spot ; the direction of the exca-
vation was entrusted to him ; and the searchers were
soon rewarded by finding not only the cave where
Christ had lain, but also three crosses. These, it
was at once determined, must have been the crosses
on which Christ and the two malefactors had suf-
fered. But which had borne the Saviour? There
was nothing to show, but so sacred an object was
sure to be invested with wonder-working powers,
and the test was, therefore, easy. So they brought
to the spot a dying woman — according to one ver-
sion, she was already dead — and touched her with
the wood of the three crosses. At contact with the
first two no change was visible ; but the touch of the
third recalled her to sensibility and perfect health,

ST. HELENA'S VISION OF THE CROSS.

BY CALIARI (pAOLO VERONESE).
NATIONAL GALLERY. LONDON.

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 251

and the true Cross stood at once revealed to the
adoring worship of all believers. In the wood were
two nails. Helena had them carefully sent to Con-
stantine, and he, we are told, had one of them in-
serted— as something far more precious than rubies
— in the Imperial crown, while from the other he
fashioned a bit for his horse.

Such is the legend in its most complete form. It
directly associates the finding of the Cross with
Helena's visit to Jerusalem, and attributes also to
her the magnificent church which was raised in the
latter part of the reign of Constantine on the site
of the Holy Sepulchre. But it must also be added
that the first historical mention of the " Invention "
is seventy years after the discovery was supposed
to have taken place. Eusebius, in describing Hel-
ena's pilgrimage,* knows nothing of the finding of
the Cross, and, while he speaks of the discovery
of the Sepulchre, he does not associate it with Hel-
ena, though he attributes to her piety the new
church at Bethlehem. It was Constantine, according
to Eusebius, who built the church on the site of the
Holy Sepulchre, and beautified the cave of Bethle-
hem and the site of the Ascension, but of the finding
of the Cross there is not a word — a significant silence,
which can only mean that the legend was not yet
current when Eusebius composed his "Life" of
Constantine. What cannot well be doubted is that
the site of the Sepulchre was discovered and cleared
in Constantine's reign. The Emperor built upon
it one of his finest churches, but popular tradition,

* De Vita Const., iii., p. 44, seq.

252 Constantine

with a sure eye for the romantic and the extra-
ordinary, preferred to attribute the origin of the
noblest shrine in Palestine to the pious enthusiasm
of the aged Helena. Her pilgrimage over, Helena
died not long afterwards, and was buried by Con-
stantine with full military honours " in the royal
tombs of the reigning city." The phrase points
clearly to Constantinople as the place of burial,
though Rome also claims this honour.

History is silent as to the events of the next few
years. But as the Empire had been free both from
civil and foreign war since the downfall of Licinius,
we may accept the general statement of Eusebius
" that all men enjoyed quiet and untroubled days." *
Peace was always the greatest interest of the Roman
Empire, but it was rarely of long continuance, and
in 330 and the two following years we find the Em-
peror campaigning in person against the Goths and
the Sarmatse. The account of these wars in the
authorities of the period is so confused and contra-
dictory that it is impossible to obtain a connected
narrative.

It was the old familiar story over again. The
barbarians had come raiding over the borders.
There seems to have been fighting along the entire
north-eastern frontier, from the great bend of the
Danube to the Tauric Chersonese. Constantine and
the legions drove the enemy back, won victories
chequered by minor reverses, and finally the Em-
peror was glad enough in 332 to come to terms with
the chiefs of the Gothic nation. Mention is made

De I 'ita Const. , iv. , c. 14.

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 253

of a handsome subsidy paid by Constantine to
the Gothic kings, which certainly does not suggest
the overwhelming triumph of the Roman arms of
which Eusebius speaks when he says that the Em-
peror was the first to bring them under the yoke
and taught them to acknowledge the Romans as their
masters.* As for the Sarmatse, Eusebius declares f
that they had been obliged to arm their slaves for
their assistance against the attacks of the Scythians,
that the slaves had revolted against their old mas-
ters, and that in despair the Sarmatae turned to
Constantine and asked for shelter on Roman terri-
tory. Some of them, says Eusebius, were received
into the legions; others were distributed as farmers
and tillers of the soil throughout the frontier pro-
vinces; and all, he declares, confessed that their
misfortunes had really been a blessing in disguise,
inasmuch as it had enabled them to exchange their
old state of barbarian savagery for the Roman free-
dom. Probably we shall not be far wrong if we
place a different interpretation on the words of Euse-
bius, and see in the transference of these Sarmatians
to the Roman provinces a confession of weakness
on the part of Constantine. They were not captives
of war. They were rather invited over the borders
to keep their kinsmen out, and the Roman Emperor
paid for his new subjects in the shape of a handsome
subsidy. There can be no other meaning of the curi-
ous words of Eutropius that Constantine left behind
him a tremendous reputation for generosity with

* De Vita Const., iv., p. 5.
f Ibid.^ iv., p. 6,

254 Constantine

the barbaric nations {Ingentemqite apud Barbaras
gentes memorice gratiam collocavit. — x., 7). Money-
was not so plentiful in Constantine's exchequer that
he gave subsidies for nothing. The suggestion is
not that he suffered defeat and bought off hostility;
it is rather that he thought it worth while, after
vindicating the honour of the Roman arms, to pay
for the friendship of the vanquished.

On the Eastern frontier peace had remained un-
broken throughout Constantine's long reign. Persia
had been so shattered by Galerius that King Narses
made no attempt to renounce the humiliating treaty
which had been imposed upon him. His son, Hor-
misdas, had likewise acquiesced in the loss of Ar-
menia and what were known as the five provinces
beyond the Tigris, and when Hormisdas died, leav-
ing a son still unborn, there was a long regency dur-
ing which no aggressive movement was made from
the Persian side. However, this son, Sapor, proved
to be a high-spirited, patriotic, and capable monarch,
who was determined to uphold and assert the rights
of Persia. It is not known how the peaceful relation-
ship, which had so long subsisted between his coun-
try and Rome, came to be broken. According to
Eusebius,* Sapor sent an embassy to the Emperor,
which was received with the utmost cordiality, and
Constantine, we are told, took the opportunity of
sending back by these same envoys a letter com-
mending to his favourable regard the Christians of
Persia. The document contained a very tedious
and involved confession of faith by the Emperor,

* De Vita Const., iv., p. 8,

The Murders of Crispus and Fausta 255

who affirmed his devotion to God and declared his
horror at the sight and smell of the blood of sac-
rifice. " The God I serve," said Constantine, " de-
mands from His worshippers nothing but a pure
mind and a spirit undefiled." Then he reminded
Sapor how the persecutors of the Church had been
destroyed root and branch, and how one of them,
Valerian, had graced the triumph of a Persian king.
He, therefore, confidently committed the Christians,
who " honoured by their presence some of the fairest
regions of Persia," to the generosity and protection
of their sovereign.

This remarkable letter suggests that Sapor had
been alarmed at the growth of Christianity in his
dominions, and by no means looked upon his Christ-
ian subjects as lending lustre and distinction to his
realm. Whether he replied to what he may well
have regarded as a veiled threat, we do not know,
but in 335 we hear of what Eusebius calls " an insur-
rection of barbarians in the East,"* and Constan-
tine prepared for war against Persia. In other words,
Sapor had fomented an insurrection in the provinces
beyond the Tigris and was claiming his lost heritage.
Constantine laid his military plans before the bishops
of his court. These declared their intention of accom-
panying him into the field, to the great delight, we
are assured, of the Emperor, who ordered a tent to
be made for his service in the shape of a church,
while Sapor, in alarm, sent envoys to sue for a peace
which the most peaceful-minded of kings {iipriviKco-
raro^ ^affiXev?) was only too ready to grant. Such

* De Vita Const., iv., p. 56.

256

Constantine

is the story of Eusebius, but it is evident that the
Eastern legions had been carefully mobilised, and,
whether such a peace was granted or not, the death
of Constantine in 337 was the signal for a renewal of
the old conflict between the two great empires of
the world, and for a war which lasted without inter-
mission through the reigns of Constantine's sons
and that of his nephew Julian.

CHAPTER XIII

THE FOUNDATION OF CONSTANTINOPLE

WE come now to the greatest political achieve-
ment of Constantine's reign — the foundation
of a new Rome. Let us ask at the outset what
led him to take a step so decisive as the trans-
ference of the world's metropolis from the Italian
peninsula to the borders of Europe and Asia. The
assignation of merely personal motives will not suf-
fice. We are told by Zosimus that Rome was dis-
tasteful to Constantine, because it reminded him of
the son and the wife who had fallen victims to his
savage resentment. He was uneasy in the palace on
the Palatine, whose very stones suggested murder
and sudden death, and whose walls were cognisant
of unnumbered treasons. What Zosimus says may
very well be true. Constantine's conscience was
likely to give him less peace in Rome than elsewhere.
But the personal wishes of even the greatest men
cannot bind the generations which come after them.
There have been cities founded by the caprice of
royal tyrants which have flourished for a season and
then vanished. Seleucia is perhaps the most striking
example, and scarcely a mound remains to mark its
257

258 Constantine

site. But most of the historic cities of the world owe
their greatness and their permanence not to the
whims of royal founders, but to geographical and
strategic position. Rome was not uncrowned by
Constantine because he could not forget within its
walls the crimes which had stained his hands with
blood.

It is also to be remembered that others had already
set the example of despoiling of her dignities the
ancient Queen of the Nations. We have seen how in
the western half of the Empire great Imperial cities
had been rising within easy reach of the frontiers. In
far-off Britain London might be the most opulent
city, but York was the chief residence of the Caesar
of the West when he visited the island. In Gaul
Treves had outstripped Lyons in dignity and wealth,
and was now the centre of military and administrative
power. Even in Italy Milan had grown at the ex-
pense of Rome; it was nearer to the frontier and,
therefore, nearer to the armies. Rome lay out of the
way. Diocletian, again, had favoured Nicomedia in
Bithynia. In other words, Rome was ceasing to be
the one centre of gravity of the ancient world, or, to
express the same truth in another form, the Roman
world was ceasing to be one. Diocletian had prac-
tically acknowledged this when he founded his sys-
tem of Augusti an'd Caesars. With the subdivision
of adrninistrative and executive power there natur-
ally ceases to be one supreme metropolis. It would
be a mistake to suppose that Constantine, in founding
a new Rome, deliberately hastened the rapid tendency
towards separation. The very name of " New Rome"

THE GOLDEN HORN.

Tl* ^

THE MARMORA.

CHART OF THE EASTERN SECTION OF MEDI/EVAL CONSTANTINOPLE.

FROM GROSVENOR'S "CONSTANTINOPLE."

The Foundation of Constantinople 259

which he gave his city indicates his bcHef that he
was merely moving Rome from the Tiber to the
Bosphorus — merely changing to a more convenient
site. But the fact that this name dropped out of use
almost at once, and that the city was called after
him, not in Latin but in Greek, shews how strongly
the current was flowing towards political division.

But what attracted Constantine towards Byzan-
tium? Precisely, of course, those advantages of
situation which have attracted modern statesmen.
Every one knows the story of how, after the Peace of
Tilsit, the Tsar Alexander constantly pressed Napo-
leon to allow him to take Constantinople. Napoleon
at length told his secretary, M. de Meneval, to bring
him the largest map of Europe which he could pro-
cure, and, after poring over it for some time,he looked
up and exclaimed, " Constantinople ! Never ! It is
the Empire of the world." Was Napoleon right?
The publicists of to-day return different answers.
The Mediterranean is not the all-important sea it
once was, and the strategical importance of Constan-
tinople has been greatly modified by the Suez Canal
and the British occupation of Egypt. But if Napo-
leon's exclamation seems rather theatrical to us, it
would not have seemed so to Constantine, whose
world was so much smaller than ours and presented
such different strategical problems calling for solution.
Constantine had won the world when he defeated
Licinius and captured Byzantium: he determined to
keep it where he had won it.

It is said by some of the late historians that he was
long in coming to a decision^ and that he carefully

26o Constantine

weighed the rival claims of other cities. There was \
his birthplace, Naissus, in Pannonia, though we can- \
not suppose that Constantine seriously thought of
making this his metropolis. There was Sardica on the
Danube, the modern Belgrade and capital of Servia,
a city well adapted by its position for playing an im-
portant role in history, and conveniently near the
most dangerous frontier of the Empire. " My Rome
is at Sardica," Constantine was fond of declaring at
one period of his career, according to a tradition
which was perpetuated by the Byzantine historians.
Another possible choice was Nicomedia, which had
commended itself to Diocletian, and, finally, there
was Salonica, which even now has only to fall into
capable hands to become one of the most prosper-
ous cities of eastern Europe.

According to Zosimus, even when Constantine
had determined to found his new city at the point
where Europe and Asia are divided by the narrow
straits, he selected first the Asiatic side. The his-
torian says that he actually began to build and that
the foundations of the abandoned city were still to
be seen in his day between Troy and Pergamum.
But the story is more than doubtful. Legend has
naturally been busy with the circumstances attend-
ing the Emperor's final choice of Byzantium. Was
it inspired, as some say, by the flight of an eagle
from Chrysopolis towards Byzantium ? Or, while
Constantine slept in Byzantium, did the aged tutelar
genius of the place appear to him in a dream and
then become transformed into a beautiful maiden,
to whom he offered the insignia of royalty ? Inter-

The Foundation of Constantinople 261

esting as these legends are, we need seek no further
explanation of Constantine's choice than his own
good judgment and experience. He was fully aware
of the extraordinary natural strength of Byzantium,
for his armies had found great difificulty in taking it
by assault ; the supreme beauty of the site and its
many other qualifications for becoming a great capi-
tal were manifest to his eyes every time he ap-
proached it. Byzantium had long been one of the
most renowned cities of antiquity. Even in the re-
motest times the imagination of the Greeks had
been powerfully affected by the stormy Euxine that
lay in what was to them the far north-east, guarding
the Golden Fleece and the Apples of the Hesperidae,
a wild region of big rivers, savage lands, and boister-
ous seas. Daring seamen of Megara, in the seventh
century B.C., had effected a landing at the mouth of
the Bosphorus, where lo had fled across from Europe
to Asia, turning their galleys up the smooth estuary
that still bears its ancient name of the Golden Horn.
Apollo had told them to fix their habitation " over
against the city of the blind," and this they had
rightly judged could be no other than Chalcedon,
for men must needs have been blind to choose the
Asiatic in preference to the European shore.

The little colony founded by Byzas, the Megarian,
had prospered marvellously, though it had experi-
enced to the full all the vicissitudes of fortune. It
had fallen before the Persian King Darius ; it had
been wrested from him after a long siege by Pau-
sanias, the "hero of Plataea, when the Greeks rolled
back the tide of invasion. In turn the subject and

262 Constantine

successful rival of Athens, Byzantium gained new-
glory by withstanding for two years the assaults of
Philip of Macedon. Thanks to the eloquence of De-
mosthenes, Athens sent help in the shape of ships
and men, and, in commemoration of a night attack
of the Macedonians successfully foiled by the oppor-
tune rising of the moon, Byzantium placed upon
her coins the crescent and the star, which for four
centuries and a half have been the familiar symbols
of Turkish sovereignty. Byzantium grew rich on
commerce. It was the port of call at which every
ship entering or leaving the Bosphorus was bound to
touch ; no craft sailed the Euxine without paying
dues to the city at its mouth. Polybius, in a very
interesting passage,'^ points out how Byzantium oc-
cupied " the most secure and advantageous position
of any city in our quarter of the world, as far as the
sea is concerned." Then he continues :

" The Pontus, therefore, being rich in what the rest of
the world requires to support life, the Byzantines are
absolute masters in this respect. For the first necessaries
of existence, cattle and slaves, are admittedly supplied
by the region of the Pontus in better quality and greater
profusion than elsewhere. In the matter of luxuries,
they supply us with honey, wax, and salt fish, while they
take our superfluous olive oil and wines."

It was Byzantium, therefore, which kept open the
straits, and Polybius speaks of the city as a common
benefactor of the Greeks. When the Romans began
to appear on the scene as a world-power, Byzantium

*Bk. IV., c. 38, seq.

The Foundation of Constantinople 263

made terms with the Senate. It well suited the
Roman policy to have a powerful ally on the Bos-
phorus, strong in the ships in which Rome was
usually deficient. As a libera et feeder ata civitas, By-
zantium enjoyed a more or less prosperous history
until the days of Vespasian, who stripped it of its
privileges. These were restored, but a shattering
blow overtook the city at the close of the second
century, when Septimus Severus took it by storm.
Angry at its long resistance, Severus levelled its
fortifications to the ground, — a work of endless toil,
for the stones and blocks had been so clamped to-
gether that the walls were one solid mass. How-
ever, before he died, he repented him of the destruc-
tion which he had wrought and gave orders for the
walls to be built anew. It was the Byzantium as
rebuilt by Severus that Constantine determined to
refound on a far more splendid scale.

No subsequent historian has improved upon the
glowing passage in which Gibbon summarises the
incomparable advantages of its site, which appears,
as he well says, to have been " founded by Nature
for the centre and capital of a great monarchy."
We may quote the passage in full from his seven-
teenth chapter:

" Situated in the forty-first degree of latitude — prac-
tically the same, it may be noted, as that of Rome, Mad-
rid, and New York — the imperial city commanded from
her seven hills the opposite shores of Europe and Asia;
the climate was healthy and temperate; the soil fertile;
the harbour secure and capacious; and the approach
on the side of the continent was of small extent and easy

264 Constantine

of defence. The Bosphorus and Hellespont may be con-
sidered as the two gates of Constantinople; and the prince
who procured those important passages could always
shut them against a naval enemy and open them to the
fleets of commerce. The preservation of the Eastern
provinces may, in some degree, be ascribed to the policy
of Constantine, as the barbarians of the Euxine, who, in
the preceding age, had poured down their armaments
into the heart of the Mediterranean, soon desisted from
the exercise of piracy and despaired of facing this insur-
mountable barrier. When the gates of the Hellespont
and Bosphorus were shut, the capital still enjoyed, within
their spaciou^^inclosure, every production which could
supply the wants, or gratify the luxury, of its numerous
inhabitants. The seacoasts of Thrace and Bithynia,
which languish under the weight of Turkish oppression,
still exhibit a rich prospect of vineyards, of gardens and
plentiful harvests; and the Propontis has ever been re-
nowned for an inexhaustible store of the most exquisite
fish, that are taken in their stated seasons without skill
and almost without labour. But, when the passages of
the Straits were thrown open for trade, they alternately
admitted the natural and artificial riches of the North
and South, of the Euxine and the Mediterranean. What-
ever rude commodities were collected in the forests of
Germany and Scythia, as far as the sources of the Tanais
and the Borysthenes, whatever was manufactured by
the skill of Europe and of Asia, the corn of Egypt and the
gems and spices of the farthest India, were brought by the
varying winds into the port of Constantinople, which, for
many ages, attracted the commerce of the ancient world."

From a strategical point of view, it was of inestim-
able advantage that the capital and military centre

The Foundation of Constantinople 265

of the Empire should be within striking distance of
the route taken by the nomad populations of the
East as they pressed towards the West, at the head
of the Euxine. The Scythians, the Goths, and the
Sarmatae had all crossed that great region ; the Huns
were to cross it in the coming centuries. Placed on
shipboard at Constantinople, the legions of the Em-
pire could be swiftly conveyed into the Euxine, and
could penetrate up the Danube, Tanais, or Borys-
thenes to confront the invaders where the danger
threatened most.

The story of how Constantine marked out the
boundaries of his new capital is well known. Not
content with the narrow limits of the ancient city —
which included little more than the district now
known as Seraglio Point — Constantine crossed the
old boundary, spear in hand, and walked with
his attendants along the shores of the Propon-
tis, tracing the line as he went. His companions
expressed astonishment that he continued so far
afield, and respectfully drew the Emperor's attention
to the enormous circuit which the walls would have
to enclose. Constantine rebuked them. " I shall
still advance," he said, " until He, the invisible guide
who marches before me, thinks it right to stop."
The legend is first found in Philostorgius, and it is
not of much importance. But Constantine, as usual,
took care to foster the belief that his will was God's
will, even in the matter of founding Constantinople,
and that he had but obeyed the clearly expressed
command of Heaven. In one of his edicts he in-
cidentally refers to Constantinople as the city which

266 Constantine

he founded in obedience to the mandate of God
{Jubente Deo). It is a phrase which has meant much
or httle according to the character of the kings who
have employed it. With Constantine it meant much,
and, above all, he wished it to mean much to his
subjects.

Archaeologists have not found it an easy task to
trace the line of the walls of Constantine, especially
on the landward side. It followed the coast of the
Propontis from Seraglio Point, the Emperor adding
height and strength to the wall of Severus and ex-
tending it to the gate of St. ^milianus, which
formed the south-west limit of his city. This section
was thrown down by an earthquake and had to be
rebuilt by Arcadius and Theodosius II. From St.
^milianus the landward wall, with seven gates and
ninety-five towers, stretched across from the waters
of the Propontis to those of the Golden Horn, which
was reached, it is supposed, at a point near the mod-
ern Djubali Kapou. This was demolished when the
city had outgrown it, and Theodosius erected the
new great wall which still stands almost unimpaired.
The course of the old one can hardly be traced, but
it is generally assumed that it did not include all the
seven hills of Constantinople, though New Rome, like
Old Rome, delighted in the epithet of Septicollis—
the Seven-Hilled. Along the Golden Horn no wall
was built until five centuries had elapsed. On this
side Constantine considered that the city was ade-
quately protected by the waters of the estuary,
closed against the attack of an enemy by a huge iron
chain, supported on floats, which stretched from the

The Foundation of Constantinople 267

Acropolis of St. Demetrius across to the modern
Galata. Confidence in the chain — some hnks of
which are still preserved in the Turkish arsenal —
seems to have been thoroughly justified. Only once
in all the many sieges of Constantinople was it suc-
cessfully pierced, when, in 1203, the Crusading Latins
burst in upon the capital of the East.

Within the area we have described, great if com-
pared with the original Byzantium, but small in
comparison with the size to which it grew by the
reign of Theodosius II., Constantine planned his
city. Probably no great capital has ever been built
so rapidly. It was finished, or so nearly finished
that it was possible to hold a solemn service of dedi-
cation, by May, 330 — that is to say, within four ye«rs.
Throughout that period Constantine seems to have
had no thought for anything else. He urged on the
work with an enthusiasm equal to that which Dido
had manifested in encouraging her Tyrians to raise
the walls of Carthage, — Instans operi regnisque fu-
turis.

The passion for bricks and mortar consumed him.
Like Augustus, he thought that a great imperial city
could not be too lavishly adorned as a visible proof
of present magnificence and a guarantee of future
permanence. Nor was it in Constantinople alone
that he built. Throughout his reign new pubHc
buildings kept rising in Rome, Jerusalem, Antioch,
and the cities of Gaul. His impatience manifested
itself in his letters to his provincial governors. " Send
me word," he wrote imperiously to one of them, " not
that work has been started on your buildings, but

268 Constantine

that the buildings are finished." To build Constan-
tinople he ransacked the entire world, first for archi-
tects and builders, and then for art treasures. With
such impetuous haste there was sure to be scamped
work. Some of the buildings crumbled at the first
slight tremor of earthquake or did not even require
that impulse from without to collapse into ruin. It
is by no means impossible that the havoc which
seems to have been wrought in Constantinople by
earthquakes during the next two or three centuries
was largely due, not to the violence of the seismic
disturbances but to insecure foundations and bad
materials. The cynical JuHan compared the city of
Constantine to the fabled gardens of Adonis, which
were planted afresh each morning and withered anew
each night. Doubtless there was a substantial basis
of fact for that bitter jibe.

Yet, when all allowances are made, it was a mar-
vellous city which Constantine watched as it rose
from its foundation. Those who study the archae-
ology of Constantinople in the rich remains which
have survived in spite of Time and the Turk, are
surprised to find how constantly the history of the
particular spot which they are studying takes them
straight back to Constantine. Despite the multi-
tude of Emperors and Sultans who have succeeded
him, each anxious to leave his mark behind him in
stone, or brick, or marble, Constantinople is still the
city of Constantine. In the centre, he laid out the
Augustaeum, the ancient equivalent, as it has well
been pointed out, of the modern " Place Imperiale."
It was a large open space, paved throughout in

ST. HELENA AND THE CROSS.

BY CRANACH. LICHTENSTEIN GALLERY, VIENNA.

The Foundation of Constantinople 269

marble, but of unknown shape, and historians have
disagreed upon the probability of its having been
circular, square, or of the shape of a narrow rect-
angle. It was full of noble statuary, and was sur-
rounded by an imposing pile of stately buildings.
To the north lay the great church of Sancta Sophia;
on the east the Senate House of the Augustaeum,
so called to distinguish it from the Senate House of
the Forum ; on the south lay the palace, entered by
an enormous brazen gate, called Chalce, the palace
end of the Hippodrome, and the Baths of Zeuxip-
pus. The street connecting the Augustaeum with
the Forum of Constantine was known as Miai], or
Middle-street, and was entered on the western side.
In the Augustaeum, which later Emperors filled with
famous statues, there stood in Constantine's day a
single marble column known as the Milion — from
which were measured distances throughout the Em-
pire,— a marble group representing Constantine and
Helena standing on either side of a gigantic cross,
and a second statue of Helena upon a pedestal of
porphyry. It was in this Augustaeum, moreover,
that was to stand for a thousand years the huge
equestrian statue of Justinian, known through all
the world and described by many a traveller before
the capture of the city by the Turks, who broke
it into a thousand pieces.

To the west of the Augustaeum lay the Forum of
Constantine, elliptical in form and surrounded by
noble colonnades, which terminated at either end in
a spacious portico in the shape of a triumphal arch.
In the centre, which, according to an old tradition,

270 Constantine

marked the very spot on which Constantine had
pitched his camp when besieging Licinius, stood,
and still stands, though in sadly mutilated and shat-
tered guise, the Column of Constantine, which has
long been known either as the Burnt Pillar, owing
to the damage which it has suffered by fire, or as the
Porphyry Pillar, because of the material of which it
was composed. There were eight drums of por-
phyry in all, brought specially from Rome, each
about ten feet in height, bound with wide bands
of brass wrought into the shape of laurel wreaths.
These rested upon a stylobate of white marble,
some nineteen feet high, which in turn stood upon a
stereobate of similar height composed of four spa-
cious steps. Sacred relics were enclosed — or are
said to have been enclosed — within this pediment,
including things so precious as Mary Magdalene's
alabaster box, the crosses of the two thieves who
had suffered with Christ upon Mount Calvary, the
adze with which Noah had fashioned the Ark out of
rough, primeval timber, and — in strange company —
the very Palladium of ancient Rome, transported
from the Capitol to an alien and a rival soil. At
the foot of the column there was placed the follow-
ing inscription : " O Christ, Ruler and Master of the
world, to Thee have I now consecrated this obedi-
ent city and this sceptre and the power of Rome.
Guard and deliver it from every harm."

At the summit of the column was a colossal statue
of Apollo in bronze, filched from Athens, where it
was believed to be a genuine example of Pheidias.
But before the statue had been raised into position,

COLUMN OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.

FROM GROSVENOR'S " CONSTANTINOPLE."

The Foundation of Constantinople 271

it suffered unworthy mutilation. The head of Apollo
was removed and replaced by a head of Constantine.
This may be interpreted as a confession of the sculp-
tors of the day that they were unable to produce a
statue worthy of their great Emperor ; but the fact
that a statue of Apollo was chosen for this doubtful
honour of mutilation is worth at least passing remark,
when we remember that before his conversion Con-
stantine had selected Apollo for special reverence.
It is certainly strange that the first Christian Em-
peror should have been wiUing to be represented,
on the site which was ever afterwards to be associated
with his name, by a statue round which clustered so
many pagan associations. He did not even disdain
the pagan inscription, " To Constantine shining like
the Sun " ; nor did he reject the pagan attribute of a
radiated crown around the head. In the right hand
of Apollo the old Greek artist had placed a lance ;
in the left a globe. That globe was now surmounted
by a cross and lo ! Apollo had become Constantine ;
the most radiant of the gods of Olympus had become
the champion of Christ upon earth. The fate of
this statue — which was held in such superstitious
reverence that for centuries all horsemen dismounted
before passing it, while below it, on every first day
of September, Emperor, Patriarch, and clergy as-
sembled to chant hymns of prayer and praise — may
be briefly told. In 477 the globe was thrown down
by an earthquake. The lance suffered a like fate in
541, while the statue itself came crashing to earth in
1 105, killing a number of persons in its fall. The
column was then surmounted by a cross, and fire and

272 Constantine

time have reduced it to its present almost shapeless
and unrecognisable mass.

Close to the Augustaeum there began to rise the
stately magnificence of the Imperial Palace, the Great
Palace, to fxeya noKatiov, as it was called to dis-
tinguish it from all others. This was really a cluster
of palaces spread over an enormous area, a self-con-
tained city within itself, strongly protected with
towers and walls. Here were the Imperial residences,
gardens, churches, barracks, and baths, and for eight
hundred years, until this quarter was forsaken for the
palace of Blachernae in another region of the city.
Emperors continued to build and rebuild on this
favoured site. In later years the Great Palace con-
sisted of an interconnected group of buildings bearing
such names as Chrysotriklinon, Trikonchon, Daphne,
— so called from a diviner's column brought to Con-
stantinople from the Grove of Daphne near Antioch,
— Chalce, Boucoleon, and Manavra. One at least of
these dated back to Constantine. This was the Por-
phyry Palace, with a high pyramidal roof, constructed
of porphyry brought especially from Rome. It was
dedicated to the service of the ladies of the Imperial
Family, who retired thither to be away from the
vexations, intrigues, and anxieties of every-day Hfe
during the time of their pregnancy. In the seclusion
of this Porphyry Palace they were undisturbed and
secure, and the children born within walls thus sacred
to Imperial maternity were distinguished by the title
of " Porphyrogeniti," which plays so prominent a
part in Byzantine history.

Constantine built below ground as well as above.

The Foundation of Constantinople 273

One of the principal drawbacks — perhaps the only
one — to the perfect suitability of the site of Constan-
tinople was that it contained very few natural springs.
Water, therefore, had to be brought into the town
by gigantic aqueducts and stored in cisterns, some
small, some of enormous size, which must have cost
fabulous sums. The two greatest of these are still
in good preservation after nearly sixteen centuries of
use. One is the Cistern of Philoxenos, called by the
Turks Bin Bir Derek, or the Thousand and One
Columns. The columns stand in sixteen rows of
fourteen columns each, each column consisting of
three shafts, and each shaft being eighteen feet in
height, though all the lower and most of the middle
tiers have long been hidden by masses of impacted
earth. Philoxenos, whose name is thus immortalised
in this stupendous work, came to Constantinople
from Rome at the request of the Emperor, and
lavished his fortune upon the construction of this
cistern in proof of his public spirit and in order to
please his master. Assistance was also invited from
the public. And just as in our own day subscriptions
are often coaxed out of reluctant purses by deft ap-
peal to the harmless vanity which delights to see
one's own name inscribed upon a foundation stone,
so in this Cistern of Philoxenos there are still to be
deciphered upon the columns the names of the
donors, names, as Mr. Grosvenor points out in his
most interesting account of these cisterns, which are
wholly Greek. " It is a striking evidence," he says,
" how little Roman was the Romanised capital, that
every inscription is in Greek." The second great

2 74 Constantine

cistern is the Royal or Basilike Cistern, begun by
Constantine and restored by Justinian, which is called
by the Turks Yeri Batan Serai, or the Underground
Palace. This is supported by three hundred and
thirty-six columns, standing twelve feet apart in
twenty-eight symmetrical rows. The cistern is three
hundred and ninety feet long and a hundred and
seventy-four feet wide, and still supplies water from
the Aqueduct of Valens as fresh as when its first
stone was laid.

The chief glories of Constantinople, however, were
the Hippodrome and the churches. With the latter
we may deal very briefly, the more so because the
world-renowed St. Sophia is not the St. Sophia which
Constantine built, but the work of Justinian. Con-
stantine's church, on which he and many of his suc-
cessors lavished their treasures, was burnt to the
ground and utterly consumed in the tumult of the
Nika which laid half the city in ashes. Nor had St.
Sophia been intended to be the metropolitan church.
That distinction belonged to the church which Con-
stantine had dedicated not to the Wisdom but to the
Peace of God, to St. Irene. It, too, shared the fate
of the sister church in the tumult of the Nika, and
was similarly rebuilt by Justinian. This was regarded
as the Patriarchal church and called by that name,
for here the Patriarch conducted the daily services,
since the church had no clergy of its own. It was at
the high altar of St. Irene that the Patriarch Alexan-
der in 335 prayed day and night that God would
choose between himself and Arius ; while the answer
— or what was taken for the answer — was delivered

The Foundation of Constantinople 275

at the foot of Constantine's Column. It was in this
church nearly half a century later that the great
Arian controversy was ended in 381, and here that
the Holy Spirit was declared equal to the Father
and the Son. Since the Ottoman conquest this
church — the sole survivor of all that in Byzantine
times once stood in the region of what is now the
Seraglio — has been used as an arsenal and military
museum. On its walls hang suits of armour, helmets,
maces, spears, and swords of a bygone age, while
the ground floor is stacked with modern rifles.
The temple of "the Peace that Passeth Understand-
ing " has been transformed into a temple of war.
Mr. Grosvenor well sums up its history in the fine
phrase, " Saint Irene is a prodigious hearthstone,
on which all the ashes of religion and of triumph and
surrender have grown cold."

There is yet another church in Constantinople
which calls for notice. It is the one which Constan-
tine dedicated to the Holy Trinity, though its name
was soon afterwards changed to that of the Holy
Apostles, in honour of the remains of Timothy, An-
drew, and Luke, the body of St. Mathias, the head of
James, the brother of Jesus, and the head of St.
Euphemia, which were enshrined under the great
High Altar. So rich a store of relics was held to
justify the change of name. It was from the pulpit
of this Church of the Holy Apostles that John Chry-
sostom denounced the Empress Eudoxia, but the
chief title of the building to remembrance is that it
was for centuries the Mausoleum of Constantinople's
Emperors and Patriarchs. None but members of

276 Constantine

the reigning house, or the supreme Heads of the
Eastern Church, were accorded burial within its
walls. Constantine built a splendid Heroon at the
entrance, just as Augustus had built a magnificent
Mausoleum on the Field of Mars. When it could
hold no more, Justinian built another. Each monarch,
robed and crowned in death as in life, had a marble
sarcophagus of his own ; no one church in the world's
history can ever have contained the dust of so much
royalty, sanctity, and orthodoxy. Apart from the
rest lay the tombs of Julian the Apostate and the
four Arian Emperors, as though cut off from com-
munion with their fellows, and removed as far outside
the pale as the respect due to an anointed Emperor
would permit. It was not the conquering Ottoman
but the Latin Crusaders, the robbers of the West,
who pillaged the sacred tombs, stole their golden
ornaments, and flung aside the bones which had re-
posed there during the centuries.

We pass from the churches to the Hippodrome,
a Campus Martins and Coliseum combined, which
now bears the Turkish name of Atmeidan, a trans-
lation of its ancient Greek name. Its glories have
passed away. It has shrunk to little more than
a third of its original proportions, and is merely a
rough exercise ground surrounded by houses. But
it preserves within its attenuated frame three of the
most famous monuments of antiquity, around which
it is possible to recreate its ancient splendours.
These three monuments are the Egyptian obelisk,
the Serpent Pillar, and a crumbling column that
looks as though it must snap and fall in the first

THE THREE EXISTING MONUMENTS OF THE HIPPODROME.

FROM GROSVENOR'S " CONSTANTINOPLE."

The Foundation of Constantinople 277

storm that blows. They preserve for us the exact
line of the old spina, round which the charioteers
used to drive their steeds in furious rivalry. The
obelisk stood exactly in the centre of the building,
which was shaped like a narrow magnet with long
arms. From the obelisk to the middle of the sphen-
done — that is to say, the curving top of a magnet,
or the loop of a sling — was 691 feet, while the width
was 395 feet. The Hippodrome, therefore, was nearly
1400 feet long by 400 wide, the proportions of three
and a half to one being those of the Circus Maximus
at Rome. It lay north-north-east, conforming in
siiape to the Augustaeum. The Hippodrome had
been begun in 203 by Severus, to whom belongs the
credit of having conceived its stupendous plan, but
it had remained uncompleted for a century and a
quarter.

At the northern end, reaching straight across from
side to side, was a lofty structure, raised upon pillars
and enclosed within gates. Here were the stables and
storehouses, known to the Romans by the name of
Carceres and to the Greeks as Mangana. Above
was a broad tribunal, in the centre of which, and
supported by marble pillars, stood the Kathisma,
with the throne of the Emperor well in front. This,
in modern parlance, was the Royal Box, and, when
the Emperor was present, the tribunal below was
thronged with the high dignitaries of State and the
Imperial Bodyguard, while, in front of the throne,
but at a rather lower level, was the pillared plat-
form, called the Pi, where stood the royal stan-
dard-bearers. Behind this entire structure, fully

278 Constantine

three hundred feet wide and so spacious that it
was dignified with the name of palace and con-
tained long suites of royal apartments, was the
Church of St. Stephen, through which, by means
of a spiral stairway, access was obtained to the
Kathisma. It was always used by the Emperor on
his visits to the Hippodrome, and was considered to
be profaned if trodden by meaner mortals. The
palace, raised as it was over the stables of the
Hippodrome and looking down the entire length of
the arena, had no communication with the body of
the building, and on either side the long arms of the
Hippodrome terminated in blank walls. The first
tier of seats, known as the Bouleutikon or Podium,
was raised thirteen feet above the arena. This was
the place of distinction. At the back rose tier upon
tier, broken half-way by a wide passage, while at the
very top of all was a broad promenade running right
round the building from pole to pole of the rragnet.
This was forty feet above the ground, aid the
benches and promenades were composed of gleam-
ing marble raised upon arches of brick. There was
room here for eighty thousand spectators to as-
semble in comfort, and one seems to hear ringing
down the ages the frenzied shouts of the multitudes
which for centuries continued to throng this mighty
building, of which now scarce one stone stands upon
another. Mr. Grosvenor very justly says that

" no theatre, no palace, no public building has to-day a
promenade so magnificent. . . . Within was all the
pomp and pageantry of all possible imperial and popular

SdLE.-JCentinielre. io SONelres or98yiFeei.

PLAN OF THE HIPPODROME.

FROM GROSVENOR'S" CONSTANTINOPLE,'

The Foundation of Constantinople 279

contest and display ; without, piled high around, were
the countless imposing structures ' of that city which for
more than half a thousand years was the most elegant,
the most civilised, almost the only civilised and polished
city in the world.' Beyond was the Golden Horn,
crowded with shipping ; the Bosphorus in its winding
beauty ; the Marmora, studded with islands and fringing
the Asiatic coast, the long line of the Arganthonius
Mountains and the peaks of the Bithynian Olympus,
glittering with eternal snow — all combining in a pano-
rama which even now no other city of mankind can
rival."

In the middle of the arena stood the spina, a mar-
ble wall, four feet high and six hundred feet long,
with the Goal of the Blues at the northern end
facing the throne, and that of the Greens facing the
sphendone. The spina was decorated with the
choicest statuary, including the three surviving mon-
uments. Of these the Egyptian obelisk, belonging to ^ytji^
the reign of Thotmes III., had already stood for ^jS(ji/^
more centuries in Egypt than have elapsed since
Constantine transported it to his new capital. When
it arrived, the engineers could not raise it into posi-
tion and it remained prone until, in 381, one Proclus,
a praefect of the city, succeeded in erecting it upon
copper cubes. The shattered column belongs to a
much later epoch than that of Constantine. It was
set up by Constantine VIII. Porphyrogenitus, and
once glittered in the sun, for it was covered with
plates of burnished brass. The third, and by far
the most interesting monument of the three, is the
famous column of twisted serpents from Delphi. Its

28o Constantine

romantic history never grows dull by repetition.
For this is that serpent column of Corinthian brass
which was dedicated to Apollo by the thankful and
exultant Greeks after the battle of Plataea, when the
hosts of the Persian Xerxes were thrust back from
the soil of Greece never to return. It bears upon its
coils the names of the thirty-one Greek cities which
fought for freedom, and there is still to be seen, in-
scribed in slightly larger characters than the rest, the
name of the Tenians, who, as Herodotus tells us,
succeeded in proving to the satisfaction of their sis-
ter states that they deserved inclusion in so honour-
able a memorial. The history of this column from
the fifth century before the Christian era down to
the present time is to be read in a long succession of
Greek, Roman, mediaeval, and modern historians; and
as late as the beginning of the eighteenth century
the three heads of the serpents were still in their
place. But even in its mutilated state there is per-
haps no relic of antiquity which can vie in interest
with this column, associated as it was in the day of
its fashioning with Pausanias and Themistocles, with
Xerxes and with Mardonius. We have then to think
of it standing for seven centuries in the holiest place
of all Hellas, the shrine of Apollo at Delphi. There it
was surmounted by a golden tripod, on which sat the
priestess who uttered the oracles which, in important
crises, prompted the policy and guided the develop-
ment of the cities of Greece. The column is hollow,
and it is possible that the mephitic exhalations,
which are supposed to have stupefied the priestess
when she was possessed by the god, mounted up

mmm^m

t .'"

9 ,

^. ,

j'ij

^<6i^%t%'

nii!*-%5*ssiBi«iilc:

MfWf»:

The Foundation of Constantinople 281

the interior of the spiral. The golden tripod was
stolen during the wars with Philip of Macedon; Con-
stantine replaced it by another when he brought the
column from Delphi to Constantinople. And there,
surviving all the vicissitudes through which the city-
has passed, still stands the column, still fixed to the
pedestal upon which Constantine mounted it, many
feet below the present level of the Atmeidan, still an
object of superstition to Christian as well as to the
Turk, and owing, no doubt, its marvellous preserva-
tion to the indefinable awe which clings, even in ruin,
to the sacred relics of a discredited religion.

To the Hippodrome itself there were four princi-
pal entrances. The gate of the Blues was close by
the Carceres or Mangana, on the western side, with
the gate of the Greens facing it. At the other end,
just where the long straight line was broken and
the building began to curve into the sphendone, was
a gate on the eastern side which bore the ill-omened
name of the Gate of the Dead, opposite another,
the name of which is not known. The gate of the
Blues — the royal faction — was the grand entrance for
all state processions.

Such was the outward form of the famous Hippo-
drome, and Mr. Grosvenor justly dwells on the im-
posing vastness and beauty of its external appearance.

" The walls were of brick, laid in arches and faced by
a row of Corinthian pillars. What confronted the spec-
tator's eye was a wall in superposed and continuous
arches, seen through an endless colonnade. Seventeen
columns were still erect upon their bases in 1529. Gyl-
lius, who saw them, says that their diameter was three

282 Constantine

and eleven-twelfths feet. Each was twenty-eight feet
high, and pedestal and capital added seven feet more.
They stood eleven feet apart. Hence, deducting for
the gates, towers, and palace, at least two hundred and
sixty columns would be required in the circuit. If one,
with the curiosity of a traveller, wished to journey round
the entire perimeter, he must continue on through a dis-
tance of three thousand and fifteen feet, before his pil-
grimage ended at the spot where it had begun; and ever,
as he toiled along, there loomed into the air that pro-
digious mass, forty feet above his head. No wonder that
there remained, even in the time of the Sultan Soulei-
man, enough to construct that most superb of mosques,
the Souleimanieh, from the fallen columns, the splintered
marbles, the brick and stone of the Hippodrome."

But it was not merely the shell of the Hippodrome
that was imposing by reason of its size and magnifi-
cence. It was filled with the choicest art treasures
of the ancient world. Constantine stole masterpieces
with the catholicity of taste, the excellence of artistic
judgment, and the callous indifference to the rights
of ownership which characterised Napoleon. He
stripped the world naked of its treasures, as St.
Jerome neatly remarked.* Rome and its conquer-
ing proconsuls and propraetors had done the same.
Constantine now robbed Rome and took whatever
Rome had left. Greece was still a fruitful quarry.
We have already spoken of the Serpent Column,
which was torn from Delphi. The historians have
preserved for us the names of a number of other
famous works of art which adorned the spina and

Constantinopolis dedicatur pcene omnium terbium nuditate.

The Foundation of Constantinople 283

the promenade of the Hippodrome. There was a
Brazen Eagle, clutching a writhing snake in its talons
and rising in the air with wings outspread; the Her-
cules of Lysippus, of a size so heroic that it measured
six feet from the foot to the knee ; the Brazen Ass
and its driver, a mere copy of which Augustus had
offered to his own city of Nicopolis founded on the
shores of Actium; the Poisoned Bull; the Angry Ele-
phant; the gigantic figure of a woman holding in her
hand a horse and its rider of life size ; the Calydonian
Boar; eight Sphinxes, and last, but by no means
least, the Horses of Lysippus. These horses have
a history with which no other specimens of equine
statuary can compare. They first adorned a temple
at Corinth. Taken to Rome by Memmius when he
laid Corinth in ashes, they were placed before the
Senate House. Nero removed them that they might
grace his triumphal arch; Trajan, with juster excuse,
did the same. Constantine had them sent to Con-
stantinople. Then, after nearly nine centuries had
passed, they were again packed up and transported
back to Italy. The aged Dandolo had claimed them
as part of his share of the booty and sent them to
Venice. There they remained for almost six cent-
uries more until Napoleon cast covetous eyes upon
them and had them taken to Paris to adorn his Arc
de Triomphe. On his downfall Paris was compelled
to restore them to Venice and the horses of Lysippus
paw the air once more above the roof of St. Mark's
Cathedral.

We have thus briefly enumerated the most mag-
nificent public buildings with which Constantine

284 Constantine

adorned his new capital, and the choicest works of
art with which these were further embellished. The
Emperor pressed on the work with extraordinary
activity. No one believes the story of Codinus
that only nine months elapsed between the laying
of the first stone and the formal dedication which
took place in the Hippodrome on May nth, 330,
but it is only less wonderful that so much should
have been done in four years. The same un-
trustworthy author also tells a strange story of
how Constantine took advantage of the absence of
some of his officers on public business to build exact
models of their Roman mansions in Constantinople,
and transport all their household belongings, families,
and households to be ready for them on their return
as a pleasant surprise. What is beyond doubt is
that the Emperor did offer the very greatest induce-
ments to the leading men of Rome to leave Rome
for good and make Constantinople their home. He
even published an edict that no one dwelling in Asia
Minor should be allowed to enter the Imperial service
unless he built himself a house in Constantinople.
Peter the Great issued a like order when he founded
St. Petersburg and opened a window looking on
Europe. The Emperor changed the destination of
the corn ships of Egypt from Rome to Constantin-
ople, established a lavish system of distributions of
wheat and oil and even of money and wine, and
created at the cost of the treasury an idle and cor-
rupt proletariate. He thus transported to his new
capital all the luxuries and vices of the old.

'^S

CHAPTER XIV

ARIUS AND ATHANASIUS

WE have seen how, at the conclusion of the
Council of Nicaea, it looked as if the Church
had entered into her rest. The day of persecution
was over; Christianity had found in the Emperor
an ardent and impetuous champion; a creed had
been framed which seemed to establish upon a sure
foundation the deepest mysteries of the faith ; heresy
not only lay under anathema, but had been reduced
to silence. Throughout the East— the West had
remained practically untroubled — the feehngwasone
of confidence and joy. Constantine rejoiced as
though he had won a personal victory; his subjects,
we are told,* thought the kingdom of Christ had
already begun. When Gregory, the Illuminator of
Armenia, met his son, Aristaces, returning from
Nicaea and heard from his lips the text of the new
creed, he at once exclaimed : "Yea, we glorify Him
who was before the ages, by adoring the Holy Trin-
ity and the one Godhead of the Father, and of the
Son and of the Holy Ghost, now and for ever,
through ages and ages."

*l>e Fita Const., iii., c. 14.

285

286 Constantine

Moreover, the Emperor's violent edicts against
the Arians, and the banishment of Eusebius and
Theognis, all indicated a settled and rooted convic-
tion which nothing could shake, while the death
of the Patriarch Alexander of Alexandria and the
election of Athanasius in his stead must have
strengthened enormously the Catholic party in
Egypt and, indeed, throughout the East. Alex-
ander had died within a few months of his return
from Nicaea, in the early part of 326. He is said,
when on his death-bed, to have foretold the eleva-
tion of Athanasius and the trials which lay before
him. He had called for Athanasius — who at the
moment was away from Egypt — and another Athana-
sius, who was present in the room, answered for the
absent one. The dying man, however, was not
deceived and said : " Athanasius, you think you
have escaped, but you will not ; you cannot." We
need not recount the stories which the malignity
of his enemies invented in order to cast discredit
upon Athanasius' election. There is no reason to
doubt either its validity or its overwhelming popu-
larity in Alexandria, where, while the Egyptian
bishops were in session, the Catholics outside the
building kept up the unceasing cry : " Give us
Athanasius, the good, the holy, the ascetic." The
election was not unanimous. Evidently some
thought the situation required a conciliatory de-
meanour towards the beaten Arians. But that
was not the view of the majority, who, by choos-
ing Athanasius, set the best fighting man on
their side upon the throne of St. Mark. They

Arius and Athanasius 2S7

did wisely. Tolerance was not properly understood
in the fourth century.

The outward peace lasted little more than two
years. Unfortunately, we are almost entirely in the
dark as to what took place during that time, beyond
the certain fact of the recall of Arius, Eusebius, and
Theognis. Arius had -been banished to Galatia;
then we read of the sentence being partially re-
voked, and the only embargo placed upon his free-
dom of movement was that he was forbidden to
return to A.rexaTrdria. Did this take place before
the recaTTlDf Eusebius and Theognis ? Socrates
gives the text of a strange letter written by these
two prelates to the principal bishops of the Church,
in which they definitely say that, inasmuch as Arius
has been recalled from exile, they hope the bishops
will use their influence with the Emperor on their
behalf.

" After closely studying the question of the Homo-
ousion," they say, " we are wholly intent on preserving
peace and we have been seduced by no heresy. We sub-
scribed to the Creed, after suggesting what we thought
best for the Church, but we refused to sign the anathema,
not because we had any fault to find with the Creed,
but because we did not consider Arius to be what he
was represented as being. The letters we had received
from him and the discourses we had heard him de-
liver compelled us to form a totally different estimate of
his character,"

The authenticity of this letter has been sharply
called in question, for there is no other scrap of

288 Constantine

evidence confirming the statement that Arius was
recalled before Eusebius and Theognis — in itself a
most improbable step. Constantine had issued an
edict that any one concealing a copy of the writings
of Arius and not instantly handing it over to the
authorities to be burnt, should be put to death, and
it is much more probable that Arius was recalled
after, rather than before, Eusebius of Nicomedia.
The " History " of Socrates contains many letters of
doubtful authenticity and some which are, beyond
dispute, forgeries. Among the latter we may cer-
tainly include the portentously long document in
which Constantine is represented as making a grossly
personal attack on the banished Arius. We will con-
tent ourselves with quoting the most vituperative
passage :

" Look ! Look all of you ! See what wretched cries
he utters, writhing in pain from the bite of the serpent's
tooth ! See how his veins and flesh are poison-tainted
and what agonised convulsions they excite ! See how
his body is wasted away with disease and squalor, with
dirt and lamentation, with pallor and horror ! See how
he is withered up with a thousand evils ! See how
horrible to look upon is his filthy tangled head of hair ;
how he is half dead from top to toe ; how languid is the
aspect of his haggard, bloodless face ; how madness,
fury, and vanity, swooping down upon him together,
have reduced him to what he is — a savage and wild
beast ! He does not even recognise the horrible
situation he is in. * I am beside myself with joy ' ; he
says, ' I dance and leap with glee ; I fly ; I am a happy
boy again.' "

ST. ATHANASIUS.

FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM PRINT ROOM.

Arius and Athanasius 289

Assuredly this raving production never came
from tlie pen of Constantine, and it bears no resem-
blance to his ordinary style. The resounding plati-
tude with which it opens, " An evil interpreter is
really the image and counterpart of the Devil,"
leads us confidently to acquit the Emperor of its
authorship and ascribe it to some anonymous and
unknown ecclesiastic desirous at once of edifying
and terrifying the faithful.

We can only surmise the circumstances which
worked upon the Emperor's mind and caused his
complete change of front with respect to Arianism
and its exponents. Sozomen, indeed, attributes it
wholly to the influence of his sister, Constantia.
According to an Arian legend quoted by that
historian, it was revealed to the Princess in " a
vision from God " that it was the exiled bishops
who held the true orthodox doctrine and, therefore,
that they had been unjustly banished. She worked
upon the impressionable mind of her brother, and the
two bishops were recalled. When Constantine asked
whether they still held the Nicene doctrines to
which they had subscribed, they replied that they
had assented, not from conviction, but from the
fear lest the Emperor should be disgusted at the
dissensions among the Christians, and revert to pa-
ganism. This curious story certainly tends to con-
firm the tradition that it was Constantia who was
the court patroness of the Arians. She had been
for years Empress in the palace of Nicomedia, and
it is easy to suppose that the very able Bishop
of that city had established a strong ascendency

290 Constantlne

over her mind, long before the Arian controversy
arose.

The upshot of the whole matter — however the
change was brought about — was that in the year
329, the Arian and Eusebian party was paramount
at tlie Imperial Court. They had persuaded the
Emperor that theirs was the party of reason, and
that those who persisted in troubling the peace of
the Church by holding extreme views and seeking
to impose rigorous tests were the followers of the
new Patriarch of Alexandria. They had subscribed
to the Nicene Creed or to a Creed which — so they
persuaded the Emperor — was practically indistin-
guishable from it, and they now plotted, with great
skill and adroitness, to undermine the position of
Athanasius, How they conducted the intrigue we
do not know, but it is significant that after the
break up of the Council of Nicaea we hear no more,
during Constantine's lifetime, of his long-trusted
adviser Hosius, Bishop of Cordova. The dreadful
tragedies in the Imperial Family had taken place at
Rome in the summer of 326. It is possible that
Hosius made no secret of his horror at these
monstrous crimes and retired to his Spanish bishop-
ric, and that Eusebius of Nicomedia, when brought
into communication with Constantine, was not so
exacting in his demand for a show of penitence and
proved more skilful in allaying the Emperor's
remorse. Be that as it may, as soon as Eusebius
felt assured of his position, he lost no time in pro-
secuting a vigorous campaign against those who had
triumphed over him at Nicsea. The first blow was

Arius and Athanasius 291

directed against Eustathius, the Bishop of Antioch,
who was charged with heresy, profligacy, and
tyranny by the two Eusebii and a number of other
bishops, then on their way to Jerusalem. Whether
the charges were well founded or not, the tribunal
was a prejudiced one and the sentence of de-
privation and banishment passed upon Eustathius
was bitterly resented in Antioch.

After certain other bishops had met with a like fate,
the Eusebii flew at higher game and attacked Ath-
anasius. They had already entered into an under-"'
standing with the Meletian faction in Egypt, who
carefully kept alive the charges against Athanasius,
and now they again took up the cudgels on behalf
of Arius. Eusebius wrote to the Patriarch asking him
to restore Arius to communion on the ground that
he had been grievously misrepresented. Athanasius
bluntly refused. Arius, he said, had started a deadly
heresy: he had been anathematised by an CEcumeni-
cal Council: how, then, could he be restored to
communion? Eusebius and Arius appealed to the
Emperor. Constantine, who had previously ordered
Arius to attend at court and promised him signal
proof of his regard and permission to return to Alex-
andria, sent a peremptoi;y message to Athanasius
bidding him admit Arius. When Athanasius, on the
score of conscience, returned a steady refusal, the
Emperor angrily threatened that, if he did not throw
open his church doors to all who desired to enter, he
would send an officer to turn him out of his church
and expel him from Alexandria. "Now that you
have full knowledge of my will," he added, " see that

292 Constantine

you provide uninterrupted entry to all who wish to
enter the church. If I hear that you have prevented
any one from joining the services, or have shut the
doors in their faces, I will at once despatch some one
to deport you from Alexandria." The threat did
not terrify Athanasius, who declared that there could
be no fellowship between heretics and true believ-
ers. Nor was the Imperial ofificer sent.

Then began an extraordinary campaign of calumny
against the Patriarch, who was accused of taxing
Egypt in order to buy a supply of linen garments,
called " sticharia," for his church ; of instigating one
Macarius to upset a communion table and break a
sacred chalice ; of murdering a Meletian bishop
named Arsenius, who was presently found alive and
well; and of other crimes equally preposterous and
unfounded. It was the Meletian irreconcilables in
Egypt who brought these calumnies forward, but
Athanasius had no doubt that the moving spirit was
none other than Eusebius himself. And his enemies,
whoever they were, were untiring and implacable.
As soon as one calumny was refuted, they were
ready with another, and all this time there was
Eusebius at the Emperor's side, continually suggest-
ing that with so much smoke there needs must be
some fire, and that Athanasius ought to be called
upon to clear himself, lest the scandal should do in-
jury to the Church^ Constantine summoned a coun-
cil to try Athanasius in 333, and fixed the place of
meeting in Caesarea, — a tolerably certain proof that
the two Eusebii were acting in concert. For some
reason not stated the bishops did not assemble until

Arius and Athanasius 293

the following year, and then Athanasius refused to
attend. Not until-^^-dttf'Athanasius stand before
his episcopal judges at Tyre.

Accompanied by some fifty of his suffragans,
Athanasius had made the journey, only to find him-
self confronted by a packed cojAncil. All his bitter-
est enemies were there ; all the old unsubstantiated
charges were resuscitated. His election was said to
be uncanonical ; he was charged with personal un-
chastity and with cruelty towards certain Meletian
bishops and priests ; and, most curious of all, the an-
cient calumnies of " The Broken Chalice " and " The
Dead Man's Hand" were revived and pressed, as
though they had never been confuted. With re-
spect to the latter charge, Athanasius enjoyed one
moment of signal triumph. After his accusers had
caused a thrill of horror to pass through the Council
by producing a blackened and withered hand, which
they declared to belong to the missing Bishop Ar-
senius, who was supposed to have suffered foul play,
Athanasius asked whether any of those present had
known Arsenius personally. A number of bishops
claimed acquaintance, and then Athanasius gave the
signal for a man, who was standing by closely
muffled in a cloak, to come forward. " Lift up your
head ! " said Athanasius. The unknown did so, and
lo ! it was none other Jthan_ Arsenius himself. Ath-
anasius drew aside the cloak, first from one hand and
then from the other. " Has God given to any man,"
he asked quietly, "more hands than two?" His
enemies were silenced, but only for the moment.
One of them, cleverer than the rest, immediately

294 Constantine

exclaimed that this was mere sorcery and devil's work ;
the man was not Arsenius ; in fact, he was not even
a man at all, but a mere counterfeit, an illusion of
the senses produced by Athanasius* horrible pro-
ficiency in the black art. And we are told that this
ingenious explanation proved so convincing to the
assembly, and created such a fury of resentment
against Athanasius, that Dionysius, the Imperial of-
ficer who had been deputed by Constantine to repre-
sent him at the Council, had to hurry Athanasius on
shipboard to save him from personal violence.

There was clearly so little corroborative evidence
against Athanasius that the Council dared not con-
vict him. But, as they were equally determined not
to acquit him, they appointed a commission of en-
quiry to collect testimony on the spot in the Mare-
otis district of Egypt with respect to the story of
the Broken Chalice. The six commissioners were
chosen in secret session by the anti-Athanasian fac-
tion. Athanasius protested without avail against
the selection : they were all, he said, his private en-
emies. The commission sailed for Egypt, and Ath-
anasius determined, with characteristic boldness, to
go to Constantinople, confront the Emperor, and
appeal for justice and a fair trial at the fountain-
head. Athanasius met the Emperor as he was riding
into the city, and stood before him in his path.
What followed is best told by Constantine himself
in a letter which he wrote to the Bishop of Tyre.*
Here are his own words :

* Sozomen II., 28.

Arius and Athanasius 295

" As I was returning on horseback to the city which
bears my name, Athanasius, the Bishop, presented him-
self so unexpectedly in the middle of the highway, with
certain individuals who accompanied him, that I felt ex-
ceedingly surprised on beholding him. God, who sees
all, is my witness that at first I did not know who he was,
but some of my attendants, having ascertained this and
the subject of his complaint, gave me the necessary in-
formation. I did not accord him an interview, but he
persevered in requesting an audience, and, although I
refused him and was on the point of ordering that he
should be removed from my presence, he told me, with
greater boldness than he had previously manifested, that
he sought no other favour of me than that I should sum-
mon you hither, in order that he might, in your presence,
complain of the injustice that had been done to him."

Such boldness had the success it deserved. Gon-
stantine evidently made enquires from Count Diony-
sius, and, discovering that the Council at Tyre was
a mere travesty of justice, ordered the bishops to
come forthwith to Constantinople. But before these
instructions reached them they had received the re-
port of the Egyptian commissioners, and, on the
strength of it, had condemned Athanasius by a ma-
jority of votes, recognised the Meletians as orthodox,
and, adjourning to Jerusalem for the dedication of
the new church, had there pronounced Arius to be
a true Catholic and in full communion with the
Church. The Emperor's letter, which began with a
reference to the " tumults and disorders" which had
marked their sessions, was a plain intimation that
he disapproved of their proceedings, and only six

296 Constantine

bishops, the two Eusebii and four others, travelled
up to Constantinople. Arrived there, they changed
their tactics, and recognising that the old charges
against Athanasius had fallen helplessly to the
ground, they invented another which was much
more likely to have weight with the Emperor.
They accused him of seeking to prevent the Alex-
andrian corn ships from sailing to Constantinople.
Egypt was the granary of the new Rome as well as
of the old, and upon the regular arrival of the Egyp-
tian wheat cargoes the tranquillity of Constantinople
largely depended. Athanasius protested that he
had entertained no such designs. He was, he said,
simply a bishop of the Church, a poor man with no
political ambition or taste for intrigue. His enemies
retorted that he was not poor, but wealthy, and that
he had gained a dangerous ascendency over the tur-
bulent people of Alexandria. Constantine abruptly
ended the dispute by banishing Athanasius to Treves,
and the Patriarch had no choice but to obey. He
arrived at his city of exile in 336, and was received
with all honour by the Emperor's son Constantine,
then installed in the Gallic capital as the Caesar of
the West. This is tolerably certain proof that the
Emperor did not regard him as a very dangerous
political opponent, but banished him rather for the
sake of religious peace. Constantine was weary of
such interminable disputations and such intractable
disputants.

The exile of Athanasius was of course a signal
victory for the Eusebians and for Arius. With the
Patriarch of Alexandria thus safely out of the way.

Arius and Athanasius 297

they might look forward with confidence to gaining
the entire court over to their side and still further
consolidating their position in the East, Arius
returned in triumph to Alexandria, where he had
not set foot for many years. But his presence was
the signal for rerrewed popular disturbance. The
Catholics remained faithful to their Bishop in exile
—St. Antony repeatedly wrote to Constantine,
praying for Athanasius' recall — and Alexandria was
in tumult. Constantine refused to reconsider the
sentence of banishment on Athanasius, but he
checked the violence of the Meletian schismatics by
banishing John Arcaph from Alexandria, and he
hurriedly recalled -Arius to Constantinople. The
heresiarch was summoned into the presence of the
Emperor, who by this time was once more uneasy
in his mind. Constantine asked him point blank
whether he held the Faith of the Catholic Church.
"Can I trust you ? " he said ; " are you really of the
true Faith ? " Arius solemnly affirmed that he was
and recited his profession of belief. " Have you ab-
jured the errors you used to hold in Alexandria?"
continued the Emperor ; " will you swear it before
God?" Arius took the required oath, and the Em-
peror was satisfied. "Go," said he, "and if your
Faith be not sound, may God punish you for your
perjury."

This strange scene is described by Athanasius
himself, who had been told the details by an eye-
witness, a priest called Macarius. According to Soc-
rates, Arms subscribed the declaration of the Faith
in Constantine's presence, and the historian goes on

298 Constantine

to recount the foolish legend that Arius wrote down
his real opinions on paper, which he carried under
his arm, and so could truly swear that he " held " the
sentiments he had written. Arius then demanded
to be admitted to communion with the Church at
Constantinople, as public testimony to his ortho-
doxy, and the Patriarch Alexander was ordered to
receive him. Alexander was a feeble old man of
ninety-eight but he did not lack moral courage.
He told the Emperor that his conscience would not
allow him to offer the sacraments to one whom, in
spite of the recent declarations of the bishops at Je-
rusalem, he still regarded as an arch-heretic. He
was not troubled, says Socrates,* at the thought of
his own deposition; what he feared was the subver-
sion of the principles of the Faith, of which he
regarded himself as the constituted guardian. Lock-
ing himself up within his church — the Church of St.
Eirene — he lay prostrate before the high altar and
remained there in earnest supplication for many days
and nights. And the burden of his prayer was that
if Arius's opinions were right he (Alexander) might
not live to see him enter the church to receive the
sacrament, but that, if he himself held the true Faith,
Arius the impious might be punished for his impiety.
The aged Bishop was still calling upon Heaven to
judge between Arius and himself and declare the
truth by some manifest sign, when the time ap-
pointed for Arius to be received into communion
was at hand. Arius was on his way to St. Eirene.

* Socrates,

Arius and Athanasius 299

He had quitted the palace — says Socrates — attended
by a crowd of Eusebian partisans, and was passing
through the centre of the city, the observed of all
observers.* He was in high spirits — as well he
might be, for it was the hour of his supreme triumph.
Then the blow fell. As he drew near the Porphyry
Pillar in the Forum of Constantine he was suddenlj^
taken ill. There was a public lavatory close by and
he withdrew to it. When he did not return his
friends became alarmed. Entering the place, they
found him dead of a violent haemorrhage, with bow-
els protruding and burst asunder, like the traitor
Judas in the Field of Blood. One can imagine the
extraordinary sensation which the news must have
caused in Constantinople as it flew from mouth to
mouth. Not only the Patriarch Alexander, but all
the orthodox, attributed Arius* sudden and awful end
to the direct interposition of Providence in answer
to their prayers. In an instant, we are told, the
churches were crowded with excited worshippers
and were ablaze with lights as for some happy
festival.

On the superstitious mind of the Emperor so
tragic a death naturally made a deep impression.
He was, says Athanasius, amazed. Doubtless he be-
lieved that Arius had deceived him and that God
had answered his prayer to punish the perjurer.
The Eusebians were "greatly confounded. " Some
hinted at poison, others at magic ; others were con-
tent to look no further than natural causes. The

* TtepioTCTO'i.

300 Constantine

general verdict of antiquity, however, was almost
unanimous in ascribing the death of Arius to the
anger of an offended Deity. It is a view which still
finds adherents. Cardinal Newman, for example,
declares :

" Under the circumstances a thoughtful mind cannot
but account this as one of those remarkable interposi-
tions of power by which Divine Providence urges on the
consciences of men in the natural course of things, what
their reason from the first acknowledges, that He is not
indifferent to human conduct. To say that these do not
fall within the ordinary course of His governance is
merely to say that they are judgments, which in the com-
mon meaning of the word stand for events extraordinary
and unexpected."

But that is a matter which need not be discussed
here. What is more important to our purpose is to
point out that the death of Arius does not seem to
have affected the state of religious parties at Con-
stantinople. It did not shake the position of Euse-
bius of Nicomedia, who continued to enjoy the
confidence of the Emperor and to act as the
keeper of his conscience.

CHAPTER XV
constantine's death and character

IT seems incontestable that Constantine degener-
ated as he grew old-?r. Certainly his popular-
ity tended to decrease. This, however, is the usual
penalty of length of reign, and in itself would not
count for much. But one cannot overlook the
cumulative evidence which is to be found in the
authorities of the period. Eusebius himself admits *
that unscrupulous men often took advantage of the
piety and generosity of the Emperor, and many
of the stories which he tells in Constantine's praise
prepare us for the charges which were brought
against him by the pagan historians. For example,
Eusebius declares that whenever the Emperor heard
a civil appeal, he used to make up out of his private
purse the amount in which the losing party was
mulcted, on the extraordinary principle that both
the winner and the loser ought to leave their sov-
ereign's presence equally satisfied. Such a theory
would speedily beggar the richest treasury. Aurelius
Victor preserves a popular saying which shews the
general estimation in which Constantine's memory
*De Vita Const., iv., 54.

301

302 Constantine

was held. Men used to say that for the first ten
years of his reign he was a model sovereign {press-
tantissimus), for the next twelve he was a brigand
{latro), and for the last ten a spendthrift heir, so
called because of his preposterous extravagance
{pupillus ob profusiones iimnodicas). He was nick-
named Trachala, the obvious reference of which
would be to his short, thick neck ; but Aurelius
Victor appears to associate it in some way with the
meaning of " scofTer " {irrisor).

In greater detail Zosimus* accuses Constantine
of wasting the public money on useless buildings.
As a pagan, he would naturally regard expenditure
upon the construction of sumptuous Christian
churches as money thrown away, but it is perfectly
certain that the state of the Imperial resources did
not justify the Emperor in lavishing vast sums upon
churches in all parts of the Empire. If we consider
what must have been the capital cost of his churches
in Rome, Constantinople, Jerusalem, Bethlehem,
Mamre, and Antioch, — to mention only a few places,
— and remember that he was constantly urging the
bishops to keep building and constantly sending in-
structions to his vicars to make handsome subsidies
out of the State funds, we cannot but conclude that
the grumbling of the pagan tax payer was thoroughly
well justified. Constantine, indeed, seems to have
been as entet^in the matter of building churches as
was in our day the mad King Ludwig of Bavaria in
the building of royal castles. Nor was this the only
form in which the passion for bricks and mortar—//

* ii., 32, 35.

Constantine's Death and Character 303

mal di pietra — seized him. He built a new basilica
even in Rome — though he rarely set foot in the
city. In Constantinople he must have sunk millions
of unproductive capital, which were far more urgently
required for the development of agriculture and
commerce. In one epigrammatic sentence Zosimus
sums up his indictment by saying that Constantine
thought to gain distinction by lavish outlay.*
He also wasted the public revenue on unworthy and
useless favourites, f whom he taught, in the phrase of
Ammianus Marcellinus, to open their greedy jaws
{fauces aperuit). Zosimus says bluntly that in his
opinion it was Constantine who sowed the seeds of
the ruinous waste and destruction that prevailed
when he wrote his history, and he roundly declares
that the Emperor devoted his life to his own selfish
pleasures. %

There is another character sketch of Constantine
which has survived for us, drawn by an even more bit-
ter enemy than the historian Zosimus. It is to be
found in that amusing and extraordinary yVz/ ^Vjr/rzV
which bears the name of The CcBsars, from the
pen of the Emperor Julian. Julian detested the
very memory of Constantine the Great, whom he
regarded as the arch-apostate from the ancient re-
ligion, and, thus, when he introduced him into the
presence of the deities of Olympus, it was really to
pour ridicule and contempt upon his pretensions.

* TTjV yap dSGoriav r/ysiro q>iXoTmiav (ii., 38).
f £/? avac^iovi xai dycoq)EXeK avQ/jooitov; Tovi (popovi
ixdaitaviSv.

\ Hal zpvcp^ Tov (iiov hcdovi (ii., 32).

304 Constantine

Julian describes him, at the first mention of his
name, as a man who has seen considerable fighting,
but has become soft through self-indulgence and
luxury. * The deities of heaven are represented as
sitting in conclave, while the deified Emperors ap-
proach to join in their councils. Julian runs over
the list of the great Emperors, introducing them one
by one and making each sit by the side of the god
whom he most resembles in character. But when
Constantine's turn comes, it is found that he has no
such archetype. No god will own him as his prot^g6
or pupil, and so, after some hesitation, Constantine
runs up to the Goddess of Luxury {Tpvcprj), who em-
braces him as her own darling, dresses him up in fine
clothes, and, when she has made him smart, hands
him over to her sister, the Goddess of Extravagance
{AffGoria). The irony was bitter, and the shaft sped
home.

The ascetic Julian does not spare his august rela-
tive, whose title to the epithet of " Great " he would
have laughed to scorn. He declares that Constan-
tine's victories over the barbarians were victories
pour rire; he represents him as a crazy being in love
with the moon, like that half-witted Emperor of the
Claudian house, who used to stand at night in the
colonnades of his palace and beg the gracious
Queen of the Sky to come down to him as she had
come down to Endymion. Julian puts into his
mouth a grotesque speech in which he makes Con-
stantine claim to have been a greater general than

* avSpa ovH exTtoXs/uov jn-iv, rjdovi^ Ss xai (XTtoXavdsi
X£ipo7]^£6TBf>ov (c. 15).

Constantine's Death and Character 305

Alexander because he fought with Romans, Ger-
mans, and Scythians and not with mere Asiatics ;
greater than JuHus Caesar or than Augustus be-
cause he fought not with bad men but with good ;
and greater even than Trajan, because it is a finer
thing to win back what you have lost than merely
to acquire something new. The speech was received
with ridicule by the gods, and then Hermes point-
edly asked Constantine in the Socratic manner,
"How would you define your ideal?" {ri xaXov
evo/Aiffa?^) " To have great riches," was Constan-
tine's reply, " and to be able to give away lavishly,
and satisfy all one's own desires and those of one's
friends." The answer is significant. Julian, hke
Constantine's other critics, keeps harping on the
same string. It is the luxury, extravagance, and
self-indulgence of the Emperor that he singles out
as the most glaring defect of his character and his
squandering of the Imperial resources upon effemin-
ate and un-Roman pomps, useless buildings, and
greedy and unworthy favourites. Silenus, the bibu-
lous buffoon of Olympus, a moral rebuke from
whose lips would be received with shouts of laughter,
tells Constantine with mock gravity that he has led
a life fit only for a cook or a lady's-maid {otpOTtoioi
Koi KOfjL^AGDTpia), and so the episode ends. We can-
not doubt that there was quite sufficient of truth in
these accusations to make the sharp-witted Greeks
of the Empire, for whom Julian principally wrote,
thoroughly enjoy his biting sarcasms.

But we must be careful not to push too far any
argument based upon this lampoon of Julian or

3o6 Constantine

upon the obvious bias of Zosimus. They disclose
to us, undoubtedly, the least worthy side of Con-
stantine's character, viz., a tendency to effeminacy
and luxury, and it is morally certain that no one
who had given way to his worst passions, as Con-
stantine had done in Rome in the year 326, could
ever be quite the same man again. He had on his
conscience the assassination of his son and wife.
These were but two out of a terribly long list
of victims, which included his father-in-law, Max-
imian ; his brother-in-law, Licinius, and Licinius's
young son, Licinianus; another brother-in-law, the
Caesar Bassus; and many more besides. Some fell
for reasons of State — " it is only the winner," as
Marcus Antonius had said three centuries before,
" who sees length of days " — but there was also the
memory, even in the case of some of these, of
broken promises and ill-kept faith, Constantine's
Christianity was not of the kind which permeates
a man's every action and influences his entire life;
or, if that be claimed for him, it must at least be
admitted that there were periods in his career when
he suffered most desperate lapses from grace.

On the whole perhaps the general statement of
Eutropius, which we have already quoted, that Con-
stantine degenerated somewhat {aliquantum mutavif)
as he grew older, fairly meets the case. It is worth
while, indeed, to quote the reasoned estimate which
this excellent epitomist gives of the Emperor's
character. He says*:

" At the opening of his reign Constantine was a man

* Eutropius, X., 7.

Constantine's Death and Character 307

who challenged comparison with the best of Princes; at
its close he merited comparison with those of average
merit and demerit. Both mentally and physically his
good points were beyond computation and conspicuous
to all. He was passionately set on winning military
glory; and in his campaigns good fortune attended
him, though not more than his zealous industry de-
served. . . . He was devoted to the arts of peace
and to the humanities, and he sought to win from all
men their sincere affection by his generosity and his
tractability, never losing an opportunity of enriching
his friends and adding to their dignity.

This estimate agrees in its main particulars with
that of Aurelius Victor, who, after speaking of his
wonderful good luck in war {intra belloriun felicitate)
and his avidity for praise, eulogises his exceptional
versatility {comviodissimus rebus multis), his zeal
for literature and the arts, and the patient ear
which he was always ready to lend to any provin-
cial deputation or complaint.

We have spoken of a marked degeneracy observ-
able in Constantine as his life drew to a close.
Perhaps the clearest proof of this is to be found
in a momentous step taken by him in 335, when
he divided the sovereignty of the world among his
heirs. Such a partition meant the stultification of his
political career, for he thus destroyed at a blow the
political unity which he had so laboriously restored
out of the wreck of the system of Diocletian.

Eusebius gives us the truth in a single sentence
when he says that Constantine treated the Empire
for the purposes of this division as though he

3o8 Constantine

were apportioning his private patrimony among
members of his own family.* He was much more
concerned to make handsome provision for his sons
and nephews than to secure the peace and well-
being of his subjects. Crispus had now been dead
nine years, and the three sons of Constantine and
Fausta were still young, the eldest being only just
twenty-one. Eusebius tells us how carefully they
had been trained. They had been instructed in
all martial exercises, and special professors had
been engaged to make them proficient in political
affairs and a knowledge of the laws. Their religious
education had been personally supervised by their
father, who zealously sowed " the seeds of godly
reverence " and impressed upon them that " a know-
ledge of God, who is the king of all things, and
true piety were more deserving of honour than
riches or even than sovereignty itself." Admirable
precepts and Eusebius declares again and again
that this " Trinity of Princes " — so he calls them
in one place — were models of deportment, modesty,
and piety. Unfortunately, we know how emphat-
ically their future careers belied their early promise
and the eulogies of the Bishop of Caesarea. We do
not doubt his statement that Constantine spared no
effort to educate them aright, but it was most unfor-
tunate that the remarkable success of their father's
political career bore testimony rather to the efficacy
of ambition without scruple than of " godly rever-
ence and true piety."

* oia riva iiaxpwav ov6iav zoK avrov K\r]poSoT(av cpiX-
rdroiS.

Constantine's Death and Character 309

In this new partition of the Empire the Caesar-
ship of the West, including Gaul, Britain, and Spain,
fell to Constantine, the eldest of the three princes.
To the second, Constantius, were assigned the rich
provinces of the East, including the seaboard pro-
vinces of Asia Minor, together with Syria and Egypt.
Constans, the youngest, received as his share Italy,
Illyria, and Africa. But there was still a goodly
heritage left over, sufficient to make a handsome
dowry for a favourite daughter. This was Constan-
tina, eldest of the three daughters of Constantine
and Fausta, and she had been married to her
half-cousin, Annibalianus, whose father had been
the second son of Constantius Chlorus and Theo-
dora. To support worthily the dignity of his new
position as son-in-law of Constantine, the new title
of Nobilissimiis was created in his honour, and a
kingdom was made for him out of the provinces of
Pontus, Cappadocia, and Lesser Armenia. Gibbon
expresses surprise that Annibalianus, " of the whole
series of Roman Princes in any age of the Empire,"
should have been the only one to bear the name of
Rex, and says that he can scarcely admit its ac-
curacy even on the joint authority of Imperial med-
als and contemporary writers. The explanation is
surely to be found in the fact that Pontus, Cap-
padocia, and Lesser Armenia had for centuries
been accustomed to be ruled by a king and that,
in creating a new kingdom, Constantine simply
retained the title which would be most familiar
to the subjects over whom Annibalianus was to
rule. Annibalianus was himself a second son: his

3IO Constantine

elder brother, Dalmatius, was raised to the full title
of Caesar and given command over the important
provinces of Thrace and Macedonia, with Greece
thrown in as a make-weight. The position was a
very important one, for it fell to the Caesar of
Thrace to guard the frontier chiefly threatened by
the Goths, and we may suppose, therefore, with
some probability that Dalmatius — who had been
consul in 333 — had given proof of military talent.

But to what extent, we may ask, was this a real
partition? In what sense were the Caesars inde-
pendent of Constantine himself? Eusebius ex-
pressly tells us* that each was provided with a
complete establishment — §aoik.inr} napaGmvi), —
with a court, that is to say, which was in every
respect a miniature copy of the court at Constan-
tinople. Each had his own legions, bodyguards,
and auxiliaries, with their due complement of offi-
cers chosen, we are told, by the Emperor for their
knowledge of war and for their loyalty to their
chiefs. It is hardly to be supposed that Constan-
tine contemplated retirement: had he done so, he
would have retired at the Tricennalia which he
celebrated in the following year. In all probability,
he did not intend that his supreme power should
be one whit abated, though he was content to dele-
gate his administrative authority to others acting
under his strict supervision. His Caesars, in short,
were really viceroys, though it is difficult to under-
stand how such an arrangement can have worked
harmoniously without some modification of the pow-

* De Vita Const., iv., 51.

Constantine's Death and Character 311

ers of the four Praetorian praefects. But the division,
as we have said,. was not made in the interests of the
Empire but in the interests of the Princes of the
Blood, and it was one which could not possibly
endure. As soon as Constantine died chaos and
civil war were bound to ensue, and, as a matter of
fact, did ensue. For there is no evidence that the
Emperor made any arrangement as to who should
succeed him on the throne. Constantinople itself
lay in the territory assigned to Dalmatius; yet it
was entirely unreasonable to suppose that the three
sons of Constantine would acquiesce in leaving the
capital to the quiet possession of their cousin. The
division of the Empire, therefore, in 335 carried
with it the early ripening seeds of civil war, blood-
shed, and anarchy. If the system of Diocletian
had proved unworkable, because it took no account
of the natural desire of a son to succeed his father,
the system of Constantine was even worse. It was
absolutely certain that of the five heirs the three
sons would combine against the two cousins, whom
they would regard as interlopers, and that then the
three brothers would quarrel among themselves,
until only one was left.

Constantine's reign was now hastening to its end.
In 336 he celebrated his Tricennalia, and his cour-
tiers would not fail to remind him that he alone, of
all the successors of the great Augustus, had borne
such length of days in his left hand and such glory
in his right. The principal event of the festival
seems to have been the dedication at Jerusalem of
the sumptuous Church of the Anastasis on the site

312 Constantine

of the Holy Sepulchre. As we have seen in an-
other chapter, the year was one of acute religious
contention, rendered specially memorable by the
awe-inspiring death of Arius, and the Emperor's
last months of life must have been em.bittered by
the thought that, despite all his efforts, religious
unity within the Church seemed as far as ever from
realisation.

Eusebius tells us * that Constantine sought to find
a remedy in the hot baths of Constantinople for the
disorder from which he was suffering, and then,
obtaining no relief, crossed the straits to Drepanum,
or Helenopolis, as it was now called in honour of the
Emperor's mother. There his malady grew worse
and special prayers were offered for his recovery in
the Church of Lucian the Martyr.

But Constantine had a presentiment that the end
was near, and he determined, therefore, that the
time had come for him formally to become a
member of the Christian Church and so obtain
purification for the sins which he had committed in
life. Falling upon his knees on the church floor,
he confessed his sins, received the laying-on of
hands, and so became a catechumen. Then, travel-
ling down to the palace which stood on the outskirts
of Nicomedia, the now dying Emperor summoned
to his side a number of bishops and made confession
of his faith. He told them that the moment for
which he had thirsted and prayed had come at last,
the moment when he might receive " the seal which
confers immortality." He had hoped, he said, to

* De Vita Const., iv., 6i.

Constantine's Death and Character 313

be baptised in Jordan: God had willed otherwise
and he bowed to His will. But he assured them
that his resolve was not due to any passing whim.
He had fully made up his mind, that even if recovery
were vouchsafed him, he would set before himself
such rules and conduct of life * as would be becom-
ing to God.

Eusebius of Nicomedia then performed the rite
of baptism. Constantin^, clad in garments of
shining white, lay upon a wJiite bed^_and, down
to the hour of his death, refused to touch the
purple robes he had worn in life. ** Now," he
exclaimed, with all the fervour of a neophyte, " now
I know in very truth that I am blessed ; now I have
confidence that I am a partaker of divine light."
When his captains came to take leave of him and
wept at the thought of losing their chief, he told
them that he had the assurance of having been found
worthy of eternal life, and that his only anxiety was
to hasten his journey to God. He wished to die,
and the wish was soon granted. Constantine drew
his last breath on May 22d, 337. ^

They bore the body, enclosed in a golden coffin
covered by a purple pall, from Nicomedia to Con-
stantinople and placed it with great pomp in the
throne room of the palace. There the dead Em-
peror lay in state, guarded night and day by the
chief officers of the army and the highest officials of
the court. Even in death, says Eusebius, he still
was king, and all the elaborate bowings and genu-
flexions with which men had entered his presence

QEdjuovi TfSrj fiiov QecS eitovrai i/navziS Siarera^ouat.

314 Constat! tine

in his lifetime were still observed. Constantine's
illness had declared itself very suddenly, and had
run its course so quickly that not one of his sons
was at hand to take up the reins of administration.
It looks too as though the Emperor had made no
preparations with a view to his demise, but had left
his three sons and his two nephews to determine
among themselves who should be supreme. His
second son, Constantius, was the first to arrive
at Constantinople, and it was he who arranged
the obsequies of his father. We are told that the
Roman Senate earnestly desired the body of the
Emperor to be laid to rest in the old capital and
sent deputations begging that this last honour
should not be denied them. But it had been Con-
stantine's express wish to be buried in the Church
of the Apostles, at Constantinople, where he had
prepared a splendid sarcophagus, and there can have
been no hesitation as to the choice of a resting-place.
The body was borne with an imposing military
pageant to the Church. Constantius was the chief
mourner, but he and his soldiers quitted the
sanctuary before a word of the burial-service was
spoken or a note of music sounded. He was not a
baptised Christian and, therefore, could not be
present as the last rites were performed. The great
Emperor was buried by the bishops, priests, and
Christian populace, whose zealous champion he had
been and to whose undying gratitude he had estab-
lished an overwhelming title. Coins were struck
bearing on one side the figure of the Emperor with
his head closely veiled, and, on the other, represent-

Constantine's Death and Character 3^5

ing Constantine seated in a four-horse chariot, and
being drawn up to heaven by a celestial hand
stretched out to him from the clouds. It was a
device which could offend neither Christian nor
pagan. To the former it would recall the trium-
phant ascent of Elijah ; the latter would regard it
as the token of a natural apotheosis. The hand
might equally well be the hand of God or of
Jupiter.

Such is the story of the Emperor's baptism,
death, and burial as recounted by Eusebius. There
is, however, one important detail to be added and
one important question to be asked. Constantine
was baptised by an Arian bishop. To the Athana-
sian party and to the ecclesiastical historians of
succeeding ages this was a lamentable circumstance
which greatly exercised and troubled their minds.
It sorely grieved them to think that their patrdn
Constantine should have been admitted into the
communion of the faithful by the dangerous heretic
who had been the bitterest enemy of their idol,
Athanasius. But with a forbearance to which they
were usually strangers, they agreed to pass over the
episode in comparative silence and remember not
the shortcomings but the virtues of the first Christian
Emperor.

It still remains to be asked why Constantine did
not formally enter the Church until he was on his
death-bed. There had been no lukewarmness about
his Christianity. He was not one to be afiflicted
with doubts. There had never been any danger of
his reverting to paganism. In the last few years,

3i6 Constantine

indeed, he had been distracted by the clamour of
Arians and Athanasians, and his was a mind upon
which a clever and acute ecclesiastic, who enjoyed
his confidence, could play at will. When Hosius of
Cordova stood by his side he was the champion of
the Catholic party ; when Hosius fell from favour
and Eusebius of Nicomedia took his place Constan-
tine strongly inclined to the Arian side. But in
neither case was there any doubt of his Christianity.
Why then did he not become a member of the
Church? Was it because the rite of baptism
conferred immediate forgiveness of sin and therefore
a death-bed baptism infallibly opened the gate of
Heaven? By putting off entrance into the Church
until the hour had come after which it was hardly
possible to commit sin, did Constantine count upon
making sure of eternal happiness ? Such is the
motive assigned by some historians. It certainly is
not a lofty one. Yet the idea may very well have
presented itself to Constantine's mind and the
impression left by Eusebius's narrative is that Con-
stantine only determined to receive the rite because
he felt his end to be near and dared not put it off
any longer. On the other hand, Constantine's
statement that his ambition had been to be baptised
in Jordan is rather against this theory. Possibly,
too, he was to some degree influenced by the wish
not to alienate entirely the support of his pagan
subjects, especially the more fanatical, of them, who
would bitterly resent their Chief Pontiff becoming a
baptised member of the Christian Church. No one
can say, but we shall be the better able to form an

Constantine's Death and Character 317

opinion if we look a little more closely at the
religious life and policy of Constantine.

j Eusebius represents the daily life of the Emperor
on its religious side to have been almost that of a
irhnkorj^l-^ saint, Every day, we are told, he used
to retire for private meditation and prayer. He de-
lighted in delivering sermons and addresses to his
courtiers, Bible in hand. He would begin by expos-
ing the errors of polytheism and by proving the
superstition of the Gentiles to be a mere fraud and
cloak for impiety, and would then expound his
theory of the sole sovereignty of God, the workings
of Providence, and the sureness of the Judgment, in-
variably concluding with his favourite moral that
God had given to him the sovereignty of the whole
world. Such a discourse could not possibly be short,
but Constantine liked his religious exercises long.
He once insisted on standing throughout the reading
of an elaborate disquisition by Eusebius himself,
who evidently tired of the exertion and begged that
the Emperor would not fatigue himself further. But
Constantine was resolved to hear it out, and the cour-
tier Bishop, while profoundly flattered at the com-
pliment, ruefully admitted that the thesis was very
long. Probably the courtiers found it interminable.
But it was their duty to listen, applaud, and appear
duly impressed when, for example, Constantine
traced on the ground the dimensions of a cofifin,
and solemnly warned them against covetousness by
the reminder that six feet of earth was the utmost
they could hope to enjoy after death, and they might
not even get so much as that if burial were refused

3i8 Constantine

them or they were burnt or lost at sea. No one ever
accused Constantine of covetousness ; his failing was
reckless extravagance, and we fear he is to be num-
bered among those who

" Compound for sins they are inclined to
By damning those they have no mind to."

Constantine ordered all the bishops throughout
the Empire to offer up daily prayers for him; he had
coins struck at the Imperial mints which depicted
him with eyes uplifted to heaven, and he had pictures
of himself — probably in mosaic— set over the gates
of his palaces, in which he was seen standing erect
with hands in the attitude of prayer. For our part
we like better the chapters in which Eusebius de-
scribes the Emperor's open-handed generosity to the
poor and needy and to the orphan and the widow,
extols the kind-heartedness which was carried to such
a length as to raise the question whether such cle-
mency was not excessive, and claims that his most
distinctive and characteristic virtue was the love of
his fellow-men, his q)ikavdpW7iia, a virtue which the
typical Roman rarely developed to his full capacity.

Constantine's whole career testified to the zeal
with which he had embraced Christianity. We have
seen the enthusiasm with which he set to work to
build churches throughout the Empire. In Rome
there are ascribed to him the Church of Saint Agnes,
the Church of St. John Lateran, and another which
stood on part of the site of the present St. Peter's.
In Constantinople he built the Churches of the
Apostles, St. Eirene, and St. Sophia, In Jerusalem

Constantine's Death and Character 319

he built the Church of the Anastasis as the crowning
memorial of his thirty years of reign, and in Antioch,
Nicomedia, and a score of other cities his purse was
constantly at the service of the Faith. The building of
churches was a passion with him, and he also took care
that they were provided with the Scriptures. Euse-
bius* gives the text of a letter written to him by the
Emperor ordering fifty copies of the Scriptures to be
executed without delay. Constantine published an
edict commanding that the Lord's day should be
scrupulously observed and honoured, and that every
facility should be given to Christian soldiers to enable
them to attend the services. Even his pagan soldiers
were to keep that day holy by offering up a prayer
to the " King of Heaven," in which they addressed
him as the " Giver of Victory, their Preserver, Guard-
ian, and Helper."

"Thee alone we know to be God; Thee alone we
recognise as King ; Thee we invoke as Helper ; from
Thee we have gained our victories ; through Thee we
are superior to our enemies. To Thee we give thanks
for the benefits we now enjoy ; from Thee we look for
our benefits to come. All of us are Thy suppliants: and
we pray that Thou wilt guard our King Constantine
and his pious sons long, long to reign over us in safety
and victory."

No pagan soldier could be offended at being
required to ofier this prayer to the King of Heaven.
If he were sincere in his faith he would hope that
it might reach the throne of Jupiter; Constantine

* De Vita Const., iv., 36.

320 Constantine

evidently expected that, as it was addressed to the
King of Heaven, it would be intercepted in mid-
course and wafted to the throne of God. He was
at any rate determined that no soldier of his, whether
pagan or Christian, should wear on his shield any other
sign than that of the Cross — " the salutary trophy."
But what was Constantine's policy towards the
old religion ? Let us look first at the explicit state-
ments of Eusebius. He says in one place* that
" the doors of idolatry were shut throughout the
whole Roman Empire for both laity and military
alike, and every form of sacrifice was forbidden."
In another passage f he says that edicts were is-
sued " forbidding sacrifice to idols, the mischievous
practice of divination, the putting up of wooden
images, the observance of secret rites, and the pollu-
tion of cities by the sanguinary combats of gladia-
tors." In a third passage :{: he speaks of Constantine's
having " utterly destroyed polytheism in all its
variety of foolishness." Eusebius also tells us that
Constantine was careful to choose, whenever pos-
sible. Christian governors for the provinces, while he
forbade those with Hellenistic, i. c, pagan, sympa-
thies to offer sacrifice. He also ordered that the
synodal decrees of bishops should not be interfered
with by the provincial authorities, for, adds Eusebius,
he considered a priest of God to be more entitled
to honour than a judge. The same authority ex-
pressly states § that Constantinople was kept per-

* De Vita Const., iv., 23. \ Ibid., c, 25.

X fiovov re nddav TtoXvQeov nXdvijv HaQsAovroi {ibid., c.
75). %Ibid.,c.2-].

Constantine's Death and Character 321

fectly free from idolatry in every shape and form,
and was never polluted with the blood or smoke
of sacrifice, and the general impression which he
leaves upon the reader's mind is that paganism was
proscribed and the practice of the old religion de-
clared to be a crime.

It is evident, however, that this was not the case.
Eusebius, as usual, supplies the corrective to his
own exaggerations. He quotes, for example, in full
the text of an edict which Constantine addressed to
the governors of the East, wherein it is unequi-
vocally laid down that complete religious freedom is
to be the standing rule throughout the Empire.
He beseeches all his subjects to become Christians,
but he will not compel them. " Let no one inter-
fere with his neighbour. Let each man do what his
soul desires." * This edict was issued after the over-
throw of Licinius and is remarkable chiefly for the
fervent profession of Christianity which the Emperor
makes in it. " I am most firmly convinced," he
says, "that I owe to the most High God my whole
soul, my every breath, my most secret and inmost
thoughts." And then he continues : " Therefore, I
have dedicated my soul to Thee, in pure blend of
love and fear.f For I truly adore Thy name, while
I reverence Thy power which Thou hast manifested
by many proofs and made my faith the surer."

But did Constantine maintain this attitude of strict

* nrjSeU v6v 'izEpov Ttapevox^siToo : exadTo? uTtsp tf ipvxtf
PovXezai Tovronai Ttpavveza) {De Vita Const., ii., 56).

f did Tavrd rot dvsQrjKd dot rjjv ejuavrov ipvxv^ epoort
Hai qiolioa uaBapc^i dvaHpaOsidav (Hid., c. 55).

322 Constantine

neutrality, only tempered by ardent prayer that his
pagan subjects might be brought to a knowledge of
the truth? In its entirety he certainly did not, and
it was impossible that so zealous a convert should.
When the smiles of Imperial favour were withdrawn
from the old religion it was inevitable that the Im-
perial arm which protected it should grow slack in
its defence. Yet, throughout his reign Constantine
never forgot that the majority of his subjects were
still pagan, despite the hosts of conversions which
followed his own, and he took care not to press too
hardly upon them and not to goad the more fanatical
upholders of the old regime to the recklessness of
despair. We have seen how the Emperor refused
to witness the procession of the Knights in Rome
at the time of his Vicennalia. He also forbade his
statue or image to be placed in a pagan temple.
But he, nevertheless, retained through life the oflfice
of Pontifex Maximiis, and as such continued to be
supreme head of the pagan religion. Nor was it
until the time of Gratian fifty years afterwards that
this title — no doubt in deference to the repeated
representations of the bishops — was dropped by
the Christian Emperors. Some historians have ex-
pressed surprise that so enthusiastic a convert to
Christianity should have been willing to remain
Chief Pontiff; a few have even been genuinely con-
cerned to explain and excuse his conduct. But Con-
stantine was statesman as well as convert. If he
had resigned the Chief Pontificate that office might
conceivably have passed into dangerous hands. By
holding it as an absolute sinecure, by never per-

Constantine's Death and Character 2,^2)

forming its ceremonial duties or wearing its dis-
tinctive robes, Constantine did far more to destroy
its influence than if he had resigned it. Imperial
titles, moreover, sometimes signify very little.
Every one knows the gibe of Voltaire at the Holy
Roman Empire which was neither holy, nor Roman,
nor an Empire. For centuries after the loss of
Calais the lilies of France were quartered on the
Royal arms of Great Britain, and the coins of our
Protestant monarch still bear the F. D. bestowed
by the Pope upon the eighth Henry. The King of
Portugal is still Lord of All the Indies. It is not
titles that count but actions. Whether or not Con-
stantine's ecclesiastical friends were troubled by his
retaining the title, we may be sure the question
never troubled the Emperor himself, as the title
of " Supreme Head of the English Church " is
said to have troubled the scrupulous conscience of
James II. after he became a convert to Rome. But
in the latter case the practical advantages of reten-
tion outweighed the shock to consistency in the
eyes of those whom James consulted.

Constantine helped forward the conversion of the
Empire with true statesmanlike caution, desirous
above all things to avoid political disturbance. He
abolished outright, we are told, certain of the more
offensive and degraded pagan rites, to which it was
possible to take grave exception on the score of
decency and morality. For example, some Phoeni-
cian temples at Heliopolis and Aphaca, where the
worship of Venus was attended with shameless
prostitution, were ordered to be pulled down. The

324 Constantine

same fate befell a temple of yEsculapius at ^gaeae,
and a college of effeminate priests in Egypt, asso-
ciated with the worship of the Nile, was disbanded
and its members, according to Eusebius, were all put
to death. But these are the only specific examples
of repression instanced by Eusebius,* and they
assuredly do not suggest any general proscription of
paganism. Eusebius is notoriously untrustworthy.
He distinctly says that Constantine determined to
purify his new capital of all idolatry, so that there
should not be found within its w^alls either statue or
altar of any false god. Yet we know that the phi-
losopher Sopater was present at the ceremony of
dedication and that he enjoyed for a time the high
favour of the Emperor, though he was subsequently
put to death on the accusation of the praefect Ab-
lavius, who charged him with delaying the arrival
of the Egyptian corn ships by his magical arts. We
know too that there were temples of Cybele and
Fortuna in the city, and Zosimus expressly declares
that the Emperor constructed a temple and precincts
for the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux. At Rome the
temple of Concord was rebuilt towards the close of
his reign, and inscriptions shew that the consuls of
the year still dedicated without hindrance altars to
their favourite deities. The famous altar of Victory,
around which a furious controversy was to rage in
the reign of Valentinian, at the close of the fourth
century, still stood in the Roman Curia, and in the
two great centres of Eastern Christianity, Antioch
and Alexandria, the worship of Apollo and Serapis

* De Vita Const,, iii., 48, iv., 25.

COPPER DENARIUS OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.
SHOWING THE LABARUM.

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTIUS II.
WITH THE LABARUM.

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF DIOCLETIAN

SOLIDUS OF MAXIMIAN.

Constan tine's Death and Character 325

continued without intermission in their world-
renowned temples.

No doubt in districts where the Christians were
in a marked majority and paganism found only-
lukewarm adherents, there was occasional violence
shewn to the old temples and statues, especially
if the governor happened to be a Christian. Orna-
ments might be stolen, treasures ransacked, and prob-
ably few questions were asked. Christianity had
been persecuted so long and so savagely that when
the day of revenge came, the temptation was too
strong for human frailty to resist, and as long as there
was no serious civil disturbance the authorities prob-
ably made light of the occurrence. Paganism was a
dying creed ; where it had to struggle hard to keep
its head above water, the end was not long delayed.
The case would be different where the temples were
possessed of great wealth and where there were
powerful priestly corporations to defend their
vested interests. There can be no greater mistake
than to suppose that Constantine declared war on
the old religion. He did nothing of the kind.
When he showered favours on the Christian clergy,
what he did in effect was merely to raise them to
the same status as that already enjoyed by the
pagan priesthood. He did not take away the privi-
leges of the colleges : and inscriptions have been
found which tend to shew that he allowed new col-
leges to be founded which bore his name. In short,
to the old State-established and State-endowed re-
ligion he added another, that of Christianity, reserv-
ing his special favour for the new but not actively

326 Constantine

repressing the ancient. He had hoped to convert
the world by his own example ; but, though he failed
in this, he never contemplated a resort to violence.
His religious policy, throughout his reign, may fairly
be described as one of toleration. That is what
Symmachus meant when he said, half a century
later, that Constantine had belonged to both re-
ligions.

There was one exception to this rule. Constan-
tine came down with a heavy hand on secret divina-
tion and the practice of magic and the black arts.
But other Emperors before him had done the same.
Emperors whose loyalty to the Roman religion had
never been questioned — for these mysterious rites
formed no part of the established worship. They
might be employed to the harm of the State ; they
might portend danger to the Emperor's life and
throne. It was not for private individuals to experi-
ment with and let loose the powers of darkness, for, as
a rule, beneficent deities had no part or lot in these
dark mysteries. As a Christian, Constantine would
have a double satisfaction in issuing edicts against
the wonder-working charlatans who abounded in the
great cities ; but the point is that in attacking
them he was not technically attacking the old State
religion. The public and official haruspices were
not interfered with ; if any devout pagan still de-
sired to consult an oracle, no obstacle was placed in
his way ; and, as a tribute to the universal supersti-
tion of the age from which he himself was not free,
even private divination was permitted when the ob-
ject was a good one, such as the restoration of a sick

Constantine's Death and Character 327

person to health or the protection of crops against
hail. But it is evident that Constantine and his
bishops were far more apprehensive of evil from the
unchaining of the Devil than expectant of good from
the favour of the ministers of grace. They were
terrified of the one: they indulged but a pious hope
of the other. Nor was the Emperor successful in
stamping out the private thaumaturgist. Human
nature was too strong for him. Sileat perpetuo divin-
andi ciiriositas, ordered one of his successors in
358. But the curiosity to divine the future con-
tinued to defy both civil and ecclesiastical law.

A much bolder act, however, than the closing of a
few temples on the score of public decency or the
forbidding of private divination was the edict of 325,
in which Constantine ordered the abolition of the
gladiatorial shows. " Such blood-stained specta-
cles," he said, "in the midst of civil peace and do-
mestic quiet are repugnant to our taste." He
ordained, therefore, that in future all criminals who
were usually condemned to be gladiators should be
sent to work in the mines, that they might expiate
their offences without shedding of blood. But it
was one thing to issue an edict and another to
enforce it. Whether Constantine insisted on the
observance of this particular edict, we cannot say,
but his successors certainly did not, for the glad-
iatorial spectacles at Rome were in full swing in the
days of Symmachus, who ransacked the world for
good swordsmen and strange animals. The ''cruenta
spectacula,"' as Constantine called them, were not
finally abolished until the reign of Honorius.

328 Constantine

To sum up. The only reasonable view to take of
the religious character of Constantine (is that he was
a sincere and convinced Christian. 'This is borne
out alike by his passionate professions of faith and
by the clear testimony of his actions. There are, it
is true, many historians who hold that he was really
indifferent to religion, and others who credit him
with an easy capacity for finding truth in all religions
alike. Professor Bury, for example, says that " the
evidence seems to shew that his religion was a
syncretistic monotheism ; that he was content to see
the deity in the Sun, in Mithras, or in the God of
the Hebrews." Such a description would suit the
character of Constantius Chlorus perfectly, and
it may very well have suited Constantine himself
before the overthrow of Maxentius. There is a
passage in the Ninth Panegyric which seems to have
been uttered by one holding these views, and it is
worth quotation, for it is an invocation to the su-
preme deity to bless the Emperor Constantine. It
runs as follows:

Wherefore we pray and beseech thee to keep our
Prince safe for all eternity, thee, the supreme creator of
all things, whose names are as manifold as it has been
thy will that nations should have tongues. We cannot
tell by what title it is thy pleasure that we should address
thee, whether thou art a divine force and mind permeat-
ing the whole world and mingled with all the elements,
and moving of thine own motive power without impulse
from without, or whether thou art some Power above all
Heaven who lookest down upon this thy handiwork from
some loftier arch of Nature.

Constantine's Death and Character 329

Such a deity may have satisfied the philosophers,
but it certainly was not the deity whom Constantine
worshipped throughout his reign. Had he been in-
different to religion, or indifferent to Christianity,
had he even been anxious only to hold the balance
between the rival creeds, he would never have sur-
rounded himself by episcopal advisers ; never have
set his hand to such edicts as those we have quoted ;
never have abolished the use of the cross for the
execution of criminals or have forbidden Jews to
own Christian slaves ; never have called the whole
world time and again to witness his zeal for Christ ;
never have lavished the resources of the Empire
upon the building of sumptuous churches; never
have listened with such extraordinary forbearance
to the wranglings of the Donatists and the subtleties
of Arians and Athanasians ; never have summoned
or presided at the Council of Nicaea ; and certainly
never have made the welfare of non-Roman Christ-
ians the subject of entreaty with the King of Persia;
Constantine was prone to superstitiom He was
grossly material in his rehgious views, and his own
worldly success remained still in his eyes the crown-
ing proof of the Christian verities. But the sincerity
of his convictions is none the less apparent, and
even the atrocious crimes with which he sullied his
fair fame cannot rob him of the name of Christian.
It was a name, says St. Augustine,* in which he
manifestly delighted to boast, mindful of the hope
which he reposed in Christ {Plane Christiano nomine
gloriosus, memor spei quam gerebat in Christo).

* Contra Lit. Petil., ii., 205.

CHAPTER XVI

THE EMPIRE AND CHRISTIANITY

THE reorganisation of the Empire, begun by Dio-
cletian, had been continued along the same
lines by Constantine the Great. There were still
further developments under their successors, but
these two were the real founders of the Imperial
system which was to subsist in the eastern half of
the Empire for more than eleven hundred years.
In other words, Diocletian and Constantine gave the
Empire, if not a new lease of life, at least a new im-
petus and a new start, and we may here present a
brief sketch of the reforms which they introduced
into practically every sphere of governmental activity.
We have already seen how profoundly changed
was the position of the Emperor himself. He was
no longer essentially a Roman Imperator, a supreme
War-Lord, a soldier Chief of State. He had become
a King in a palace, secluded from the gaze of the
vulgar, surrounded with all the attributes and orna-
ments of an eastern monarch, and robed in gorgeous
vestments stifT with gold and jewels. Men were
taught to speak and think of him as superhuman
and sacrosanct, to approach him with genuflexion
330

The Empire and Christianity 331

and adoration, to regard every office, however
menial, attached to his person, as sacred. In speak-
ing of the Emperor language was strained to the
pitch of the ridiculous ; flattery became so grotesque
that it must have ceased to flatter. When Nazarius,
for example, speaks of the Emperor's heart as " the
stupendous shrine of mighty virtues" {ingentiuni
virtutum stiipenda penetralia), and such language as
this became the recognised mode of addressing the
reigning Sovereign, we see how far we have travelled
not only from Republican simplicity, but even from
the times of Domitian. The Emperor, in brief, was
absolute monarch, autocrat of the entire Roman
world, and his will and nod were law.

He stood at the head of a hierarchy of court and
administrative ofificials, most minutely organised
from the highest to the lowest. For purposes of
Imperial administration, those next to the throne
were the four Praetorian praefects, each one supreme,
under the Emperor, in his quarter of the world.
The Empire had been divided by Diocletian into
twelve dioceses and these again into ninety-six
provinces; Constantine accepted this division but
apportioned the twelve dioceses into four praefect-
ures, those of the Orient, Illyria, Italy, and Gaul.
The four Praetorian praefects stood in relation to the
Emperor— so Eusebius tells us— as God the Son
stood in relation to God the Father. They wore—
though not perhaps in the days of Constantine —
robes of purple reaching to the knee ; they rode in
lofty chariots, and among the insignia of their office
were a colossal silver inkstand and gold pen-cases of

332 Constantine

a hundred pounds in weight. Their functions were
practically unlimited, save for the all-important excep-
tion that they exercised no military command. They
had an exchequer of their own, through which passed
all the Imperial taxes from their provinces ; they had
absolute control over the vicars of the dioceses be-
neath them, whom, if they did not actually appoint
they at least recomrhended for appointment to the
Emperor. In their own praefectures they formed
the final court of appeal, and Constantine expressly
enacted that there should be no appeal from them
to the throne. They even had a limited power of
issuing edicts. Thus in all administrative, financial,
and judicial matters the four Praetorian praefects were
supreme, occupying a position very similar to that
of the Viceroys of the great provinces of China, save
that they had no control over the troops within their
territories.

Below these four praefects came the vicars of the
twelve dioceses of the Oriens, Pontica, Asiana, Thra-
cia, McEsia, Pannonia, Britanniae, Galliae, Viennenses,
Italia, Hispaniae, and Africa. Egypt continued to
hold an unique position ; its governor was almost
independent of the praefect of the Orient, and was
always a direct nominee of the Emperor. Then,
below the twelve vicars came the governors of the
provinces, the number of which constantly tended
to increase, but by further subdivision rather than
by conquest of new territory. Various names were
given to these governors ; they were rectores and cor-
rector es in some provinces, /ri^^z^<?.y in many more,
consvlares in a few of the more important ones, such

AUREUS OF CARAUSIUS.

^ >'>.

AUREUS OF ALLECTUS.

SOLIDUS OF HELENA.

SOLIDUS OF QALERIUS.

SOLIDUS OF SEVERUS

The Empire and Christianity 333

as Africa and Italia. Each had his own entourage
of minor officials, and the hierarchical principle was
observed as rigidly on the lowest rungs of the ladder
as on the topmost. Autocrats are obliged to rule
through a bureaucracy, a broad-based pyramid of
ofificialdom which usually weighs heavily upon the
unfortunate taxpayer who has to support the entire
structure.

A similar hierarchy of ofificials prevailed in the
palace and the court, from the grand chamberlain
down through a host of Imperial secretaries to the
head scullion. The tendency of each was to magnify
his office into a department, and to be the master of
a set of underlings. And it was the policy of Con-
stantine, as it had been the policy of Augustus, to
invent new offices in order to increase the number
of officials who looked to the Emperor as their
benefactor.*

In the conduct of State affairs the Emperor was
assisted by an Imperial council, known as the co7i-
sisiorium principis. It included the four Praetorian
praefects of whom we have spoken ; the quaestor of
the palace, a kind of general secretary of state ; the
master of the offices {inagister officiorum), one of
whose principal duties was to act as minister of police ;
the grand chamberlain {prcsposittis sacri cubiculi)\
two ministers of finance, and two ministers for war.
One of the finance ministers was dignified with the
title of count of the sacred largesses {comes sacrarum
largitiomim) ; the other was count of the private

* £/S yap TO Tt'K.Eiova'i rijudv 8ia<p6pov<; kntvoEi /3a6iXsvi
a^idi(De Vita Const., iv., i).

334 Constantine

purse {comes rerum privataruin). The distinction
was similar to the old one between the cerarium and
\}[v& fiscus, between, that is to say, the State treasury
and the Emperor's privy purse. One of the two
ministers for war had supreme charge of the infantry
of the Empire ; the other was responsible for the
cavalry. Both also exercised judicial functions and sat
as a court of appeal in all military cases wherein the
State was interested, either as plaintiff or defendant.
There were still consuls in Rome, who continued
to give their names to the year. All their political
power had vanished, but their dignity remained un-
impaired, though it was now derived not from the
intrinsic importance of their office so much as from
its extrinsic ornaments. To be consul had become
the ambition not of the boldest but of the vainest.
{In consulatu honos sine labor e suscipitur.) The prae-
torship had similarly fallen, but it still entailed upon
the holder the expensive and sometimes ruinous
privilege of providing shows for the amusement of
the Roman populace. The number of praetors had
fallen to two in Constantine's day : he raised it to
eight, in accordance with his general regardlessness
of expense, so long as there was outward mag-
nificence. It is doubtful whether, during the reign of
Constantine, there were consuls and praetors in Con-
stantinople. Certainly there was no urban praefect
appointed in that city until twenty years after his
death, and it seems probable that the Emperor did
not set up in his new capital quite such a pedantically
perfect imitation of the official machinery of Rome
as has sometimes been supposed. His successors,

The Empire and Christianity 335

however, were not long in completing what he had
begun.

We pass to the senate and the senatorial order,
with their various degrees of dignity, which Constan-
tine and those who came after him delighted to
elaborate. Every member of the senate was natur-
ally a member of the senatorial order, but it by no
means followed that every member of the order had
a seat in the senate. The new senate of Constanti-
nople, like its prototype at Rome, had little or no
political power. It merely registered the decrees of
the Emperor, and its function seems to have been
one principally of dignity and ceremony. Member-
ship of the senatorial order was a social distinction
that might be held by a man living in any part of the
Empire and was gained by virtue of having held
office. The order was an aristocracy of officials and
ex-officials, distinguished by resplendent titles, in-
volving additional burdens in the way of taxation —
the price of added dignity. A few of these titles are
worth brief consideration. To the Emperor there
were reserved the grandiloquent names of Your Ma-
jesty, Your Eternity, Your Divinity. Members of
the reigning house were Most Noble {Nobilissimi).
To the members of the senate, including the officials
of the very highest rank, viz., the consuls, proconsuls,
and praefects, there was reserved the title of Most
Distinguished {Clarisshni), while officers of lower
rank, members of the senatorial order but not of the
senate, were Most Perfect {Perfectissimi) and Egre-
gious {Egregii), the former being of a higher class
than the latter. Such was the order of precedence

33^ Constantine

in Constantine's reign, but there was a constant ten-
dency for these honourable orders to expand, due,
no doubt, entirely to the exigencies of the treasury.
Thus the high rank of Clarissimi was bestowed on
those who previously had been only Perfectissimi
and Egregii, and two still higher orders of Illiistres
and Spectabiles were created for the old Claris-
simi and Perfectissimi. The two topmost classes
were thus given an upward step.

Such was the new official aristocracy, while a rigid
line of division, quite unknown to Republican and
early Imperial Rome, was drawn between the civil and
the military officers of the Empire. The military
forces themselves were organised into two great di-
visions, (i) the troops kept permanently upon the
frontiers, and (2) the soldiers of the line. The first
were known as Limitanci (Borderers) or Riparienses
(Guardians of the Shore), the second name being
specially applied to the soldiers of the Rhine and
the Danube. All these troops were stationed in per-
manent camps and forts, which often developed into
townships, and it was a rare thing for a legion to be
moved to another quarter of the Empire. Boys
grew up and followed their fathers in the profession
of arms in the same camp, and were themselves suc-
ceeded by their own sons. The term of service was
twenty-four years, and these Limitanei were not only
soldiers but tillers of the soil, playing a part precisely
similar to the soldier colonists of Russia in her Far
Eastern provinces. The soldiers of the line {Numeri),
on the other hand, served for the shorter period of
twenty years. They included the Palatini, — practi-

The Empire and Christianity 337

cally the successors of the old Praetorian Guard, —
the crack corps of the army, who were divided into
regiments bearing such titles as Scholares, Protectores,
and Domcstici, and enjoyed the privilege of guarding
the Emperor's person. Most of the legions of the
line were known as the Comitatenses. These were
employed in the interior garrisons of the Empire,
and Zosimus — whether justly or not, it is impossible
to say — accuses Constantine of having dangerously
weakened the frontier garrisons and withdrawn too
many troops into the interior. The control of the
army, under the Emperor and his two ministers for
war, was vested by the end of the fourth century in
thirty-five commanders bearing the titles of dukes and
counts, — the latter being the higher of the two.
Three of these were stationed in Britain, six in Gaul,
one each in Spain and Italy, four in Africa, three in
Egypt, eight in Asia and Syria, and nine along the
upper and lower reaches of the Danube.

Such was the structure which rested upon the purse
of the taxpayer and upon a system of finance in-
herently vicious and wasteful. The main support of
the treasury was still, as it had always been, the land
tax, known as the capitatio terrena, the old tributiim
soli. It was the landed proprietor {possessor) who
found the wherewithal to keep the Empire on its
feet, Diocletian had reorganised the census, and, in
the interests of the treasury, had caused a new survey
and inventory to be made of practically every acre
of land in every province. By an ingenious device
he had established a system of taxable units {jiigiim
or caput), each of which paid the round sum of

33^ Constantine

100,000 sesterces or looo aurei. The unit might be
made up of all sorts of land — arable, pasture, or forest
— the value of each being estimated on a regular
scale. Thus five acres of vineyard constituted a unit
and were held to be equivalent to twenty acres of the
best arable land, forty acres of second-class land, and
sixty of third-class. Nothing escaped: even the rough-
est woodland or moorland was assessed at the rate of
four hundred and fifty acres to the unit. The Em-
peror and his finance ministers estimated every year
how much was required for the current expenses of
the Empire. When the amount was fixed, they sent
word throughout the provinces, and the various
municipal curi?e, or town senates, knew what their
share would be, for each town and district was as-
sessed at so many thousand units, and each curia or
senate was responsible for the money being raised.
The curia was composed of a number of the richest
landowners, who had to collect the tax from them-
selves and their neighbours as best they could. If,
therefore, any possessor became bankrupt, the others
had to make up the shortage between them. Those
who were solvent had to pay for the insolvent. All
loopholes of evasion were carefully closed. Land-
owners were not permitted to quit their district
without special leave from the governor; they could
not join the army or enter the civil service. When
it was found that large numbers were becoming
ordained in the Christian Church to escape their
obligations, an edict was issued forbidding it. Once
a decurion always a decurion.

The provincial country landowner and the small

The Empire and Christianity 339

farmer were almost taxed out of existence by this
monstrous system. Every ten or fifteen years, it is
true, a revision of the assessments took place, and
there were certain officials, with the significant name
of defensores, whose duty it was to prevent the pro-
vincials from being fleeced too flagrantly. But a
man might easily be reduced to beggary by a suc-
cession of bad harvests before the year of revision
came round, and the defensor s office was a sinecure
except in the rare occasions when he knew that he
would be backed at the headquarters of the diocese.
During Constantine's reign, or at least during its
closing years, there is overpowering evidence that
the provincial governors were allowed to plunder at
discretion. They imitated the reckless prodigality
of their sovereign, who, in 331, was compelled to is-
sue an edict to restrain the peculation of his officers.
There is a very striking phrase in Ammianus Marcel-
linus who says that while Constantine started the
practice of opening the greedy jaws of his favourites,
his son, Constantius, fattened them up on the very
marrow of the provinces. * Evidently, the inci-
dence of this land tax inflicted great hardships and
had the mischievous result of draining the province
of capital, and of dragging down to ruin the inde-
pendent cultivator of the land. Hence districts
were constantly in arrears of payment, and the re-
mission of outstanding debt to the treasury was
usually the first step taken by an Emperor to court
popularity with his subjects.

* Proximortim fauces aper nit primus omnium Cons'aniinus sed eos
jnediiUis provinciarum saginavit Constantius (xvi., c. 8, 12),

340 Constantine

In short, the fiscal system of the Empire, so far as
its most important item, the land tax, was concerned,
seemed expressly designed to exhaust the wealth of
the provinces. It helped to introduce a system of
caste, which became more rigid and cramping as the
years passed by and the necessities of the treasury
became more urgent. It also powerfully contributed
to crush out of existence the yeoman farmer, whose
insolvency was followed, if not by slavery, at any
rate by a serfdom which just as effectually robbed
him of freedom of movement. The colonus having
lost the title-deeds of his own land became the hire-
ling of another, paying in kind a fixed proportion of
his stock and crops, and obliged to give personal serv-
ice for so many days on that part of the estate
where his master resided. The position of the poor
colonus, in fact, became precisely similar to that of
a slave who had not obtained full freedom but
had reached the intermediate state of serfdom, in
which he was permanently attached to a certain
estate as, so to speak, part of the fixtures. He
was said to be "ascribed to the land " {ascripticius),
and he had no opportunity of bettering his social
position or enabling his sons to better theirs, unless
they were recruited for the legions.

The land tax, of course, was not the only one, for
the theory of Imperial finance was that everybody
and everything should pay. Constantine did not
spare his new aristocracy. Every member of the
senatorial order paid a property tax known as " the
senatorial purse " [follis scnatorid), and another im-
position bearing the name of auriun oblaticium, which

SOLIDUS OF MAXIMIN DAZA.

SOLIDUS OF LICINIUS

SOLIDUS OF LICINIUS II.

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT

The Empire and Christianity 341

was none the more palatable because it was sup-
posed to be a voluntary offering. Any senator,
moreover, might be summoned to the capital to
serve as praetor and provide a costly entertain-
ment— a convenient weapon in the hands of
autocracy to clip the wings of an obnoxious ex-
official. Another ostensibly voluntary contribution
to the Emperor was the aurum coronarmm, or its
equivalent of a thousand or two thousand pieces
of gold, which each city of importance was obliged
to offer to the sovereign on festival occasions, such
as the celebration of five or ten complete years of
rule. Every five years, also, there was a lustralis
collatio to be paid by all shopkeepers and usurers,
according to their means. This was usually spoken
of as " the gold-silver " {chrysargyritni), and, like
" the senatorial purse," is said by some authorities
to have been the invention of Constantine himself.
Zosimus, in a very bitter attack on the fiscal meas-
ures of the Emperor, declares that even the courte-
sans and the beggars were not exempt from the
extortion of the treasury officials, and that when-
ever the tribute had to be paid, nothing was heard
but groaning and lamentation. The scourge was
brought into play for the persuasion of reluctant tax-
payers ; women were driven to sell their sons, and
fathers their daughters. Then there were the capita-
tio humana, a sort of poll-tax on all labourers ; the
old five per cent, succession duty ; an elaborate sys-
tem of octroi {portoria), and many other indirect
taxes. We need not, perhaps, believe the very worst
pictures of human misery drawn by the historians,

342 Constantine

for, in fairness to the Emperors, we must take some
note of the roseate accounts of the official rhetor-
icians. Nazarius, for example, explicitly declares
that Constantine had given the Empire "peace
abroad, prosperity at home, abundant harvests, and
cheap food." * Eusebius again and again conjures up
a vision of prosperous and contented peoples, living
not in fear of the tax-collector, but in the enjoyment
of their sovereign's bounty. But we fear that the
sombre view is nearer the truth than the radiant one,
and that the subsequent financial ruin, which over-
took the western even more than the eastern pro-
vinces, was largely due to the oppressive and wasteful
fiscal system introduced and developed by Dio-
cletian and Constantine, and to the old standing
defect of Roman administration, that the civil gov-
ernor was also the judge, and thus administrative
and judicial functions were combined in the same
hands.

Here, indeed, lay one of the strongest elements of
disintegration in the reorganised Empire, but there
were other powerful solvents at work, at which we
may briefly glance. One was slavery, the evil re-
sults of which had been steadily accumulating for
centuries, and if these were mitigated to some ex-
tent by the increasing scarcity of slaves, the degrada-
tion of the poor freeman to the position of a colonus
more than counterbalanced the resultant good.
Population, so far from increasing, was going back,
and, in order to fill the gaps, the authorities had re-

* Omnia f oris placi da, domi frospera ; anno'icF ubcrtas, fi-tichiunt
copia{Pan. Vet., x., 38).

The Empire and Christianity 343

course to the dangerous expedient of inviting in the
barbarian. The land was starving for want of capi-
tal and labour, and the barbarian colonus was intro-
duced, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, not, if
the authorities are to be trusted, by tens, but by
hundreds of thousands, " to lighten the tribute by
the fruits of his toil and to relieve the Roman citi-
zens of military service." This was the principal
and certainly the original reason why recourse was
had to the barbarian ; the idea that the German or
the Goth was less dangerous inside than outside the
frontier, and would help to bear the brunt of the
pressure from his kinsmen, came later. The result,
however, of importing a strong Germanic and Gothic
element into the Empire was one of active disinte-
gration. Though they occupied but a humble posi-
tion industrially, as tillers of the soil, they formed
the best troops in the Imperial armies. The boast
which Tacitus put into the mouth of a Gallic sol-
dier in the first century, that the alien trooper was
the backbone of the Roman army,* was now an un-
doubted truth, and the spirit which these strangers
brought with them was that of freedom, quite an-
tagonistic to the absolutism of the Empire.

There was yet another great solvent at work, — in
its cumulative effects the greatest of them all, — the
solvent of Christianity, dissociating, as it did, spirit-
ual from temporal authority, and introducing the
absolutely novel idea of a divine law that in every
particular took precedence of mundane law. The_
growth of the power of the Church, as a body en- _

* Nihil in exercitibus validum nisi externum.

344 Constantine

tirely distinct from the State and claiming a superior
moral sanction, was a new force introduced into the
Roman Empire, which, beyond question, weakened
its powers of resistance to outside enemies, inasmuch
as it caused internal dissensions and divisions. The
furious hatreds between Christianity and paganism
which lasted in the West down to the fall of Rome,
and the equally furious hatreds within the Church
which continued both in East and West for long
centuries, can only be considered a source of serious
weakness. No one disputes that the desperate and
murderous struggle between Catholic and Huguenot
retarded the development of France and weakened
her in the face of the enemy, and it stands to reason
that a nation which is torn by intestinal quarrel can-
not present an effective front to foreign aggression.
It wastes against members of its own household part
of the energy which should be infused into the blows
which it delivers at its foe.

Christianity has always tended to break down dis.-
tinctions and prejudices of race. It has never done
so wholly and never will, but the tendency ia-ior—
ever at work, and, as such, in the days of the Emj^_
pire, it was opposed both to the Roman and to the
Greek spirit. For though there had already sprung
up a feeling of cosmopolitanism within the Empire,
it cannot be said to have extended to those without
the Empire, who were still barbarians in the eyes
not only of Greek or Roman, but of the Romanised
Celt and Iberian, whose civilisation was no longer a
thin veneer. When we say that Christianity was
a disintegrating element in this respect, the term is

The Empire and Christianity 345

by no means wholly one of reproach. For it also
implies that Christianity assisted the partial fusion
which took place when at length the frontier barriers
gave way and the West was rushed by the Germanic
races. These races were themselves Christianised to
a certain extent. They, too, worshipped the Cross
and the Christ, and this circumstance alone must, to
a very considerable degree, have mitigated for the
Roman provinces the terrors and disasters of in-
vasion. It is true that the invaders were for the
most part Arians, — though it is a manifest absurdity
to suppose that the free Germans from beyond the
Rhine understood even the elements of a contro-
versy so metaphysical and so purely Greek, — and,
when Arian and Catholic fought, they tipped their
barbs with poison. " I never yet," said Ammianus
Marcellinus, " found wild beasts so savagely hostile
to men, as most of the Christians are to one an-
other." * But the fact remains that the German
and Gothic conquerors, who settled where they had
conquered, accepted the civilisation of the van-
quished even though they modified it to their own
needs ; they did not wipe it out and substitute
their own, as did the Turk and the Moor when they
appeared, later on, at the head of their devasta-
ting hordes. If,_th£relQre, Christianity ±end-ed-ta,
weaken, it also tended to assimilate, and we are not
sure that the latter process was not fully as import-
ani„ as the former. The Roman Empire, as a uni-
versal power, had long been doomed ; Christianity,

* NuUas infestas kominibus bestias ut sunt sibi ferales plerique
Christianortim expe^-tus (xxii., 5).

346 Constantine

in this respect, simply accelerated its pace down the
slippery slope.

But other and more specific charges have been
brought against Christianity. One is that it con-
tributed largely to the depopulation of the Empire,
which, from the point of view of the State, was an
evil of the very greatest magnitude. The indict-
ment cannot be refuted wholly. In the name of
Christianity extravagant and pernicious doctrines
were preached of which it would be difificult to speak
with patience, did we not remember that violent
disorders need violent remedies. No one can doubt
the unutterable depravity and viciousness which
were rampant and unashamed in the Roman Empire,
especially in the East. If there was a public con-
science at all, it was silent. Decent, clean-living
people held fastidiously aloof and tolerated the
existence of evils which they did nothing to combat.
A strong protest was needed ; it was supplied by
Christianity. But many of those who took upon
themselves to denounce the sins of the age felt
compelled to school themselves to a rigid asceticism
which made few allowances not only for the weak-
nesses but even for the natural instincts of human
nature. The more fanatical among them grudgingly
admitted that marriage was honourable, but rose to
enthusiastic frenzy in the contemplation of virginity,
which, if they dared not command, they could and
did commend with all the eloquence of which they
were capable. One cannot think without pity of
all the self-torture and agonising which this new
asceticism — new, at least, in this aggravated form —

The Empire and Christianity 347

brought upon hundreds and thousands of men and
women, whose services the State needed and would
have done well to possess, but who cut them-
selves off from mundane affairs, and withdrew into
solitudes, not to learn there how to help their fellow-
men but consumed only with a selfish anxiety to
escape from the wrath to come. They thought of
nothing but the salvation of their own souls. It is
impossible to see how these wild hermits, who
peopled the Libyan deserts, were acceptable in the
sight either of themselves, their fellows, or their
God. Simon Stylites, starving sleepless on his pillar
in the posture of prayer for weeks, remains for all
time as a monument of grotesque futility. If char-
ity regards him with pity, it can only regard with
contempt those who imputed his insane endurance
unto him for righteousness. No one can estimate
the amount of unnecessary misery and sufferings
caused by these extreme fanatics, who broke up
homes without remorse, played on the fears and
harrowed the minds of impressionable men and
women, and debased the human soul in their frantic
endeavour to fit it for the presence of its Maker.
They stand in the same category as the gaunt
skeletons who drag themselves on their knees from
end to end of India in the hope of placating a mild
but irresponsive god. Man's first duty may be
towards God ; but not to the exclusion of his duty
towards the State.

It is not to be supposed, of course, that the
majority of Christians were led to renounce the
world and family life. The weaker brethren are

348 Constantine

always in a majority, and we do not doubt that
most of the Christian priests were of like mind with
their flock in taking a less heroic but far more
common-sense view. It is also to be noted that
the practical Roman temper speedily modified the
extravagances of the eastern fanatics, and the as-
ceticism of monks and nuns living in religious
communities in the midst of their fellow-citizens,
and working to heal their bodies as well as to save
their souls, stands on a very different plane from
the entirely self-centred eremitism associated with
Egypt. By doing the work of good Samaritans
the members of these communities acted the part
of good citizens. Succeeding Emperors, whose
Christianity was unimpeachable, looked with cold
suspicion on the recluses of the deserts. Valens,
for example, regarding their retirement as an evasion
of their civic duties, published an edict ordering
that they should be brought back ; Theodosius with
cynical wisdom said that as they had deliberately
chosen to dwell in the desert, he would take care that
they stopped there. But it is easy to exaggerate
the influence wielded by extreme men, whose doc-
trines and professions only emerge from obscurity
because of their extravagances. We must not,
therefore, lay too much stress on the constant ex-
hortations to celibacy and virginity which we find
even in the writings of such men as Jerome and
Ambrose. However zealously they plied the pitch-
fork, human nature just as persistently came back,
and the extraordinary outspokenness of Jerome, for
example, in his letters to girls who had pledged

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF FAUSTA.

^^U .

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CRISPUS.

^^^ilT*,-

DOUBLE SOLIDUS OF CONSTANTIUS II. AS C/ESAR.

The Empire and Christianity 349

themselves to virginity — an outspokenness based on
the confident assumption that human, and more
especially womanly, nature is weak and liable to
err — shews that he was profoundly diffident of the
success of his preaching. Nevertheless, when the
counsel of perfection offered by the Church was
the avoidance of marriage, it is a just charge against
Christianity that it was in this respect anti-civic and
anti-social.

On the other hand, it is to be remembered that
this avoidance of marriage ai.d its responsibilities
was no new thing in the Roman Empire. For cent-
uries the State had been alarmed at the growth of
an unwillingness, manifested especially in the higher
orders of society, to undertake the duties of parent-
age. Special bounties and immunities from taxation
were offered to the fathers even of three children ;
checks were placed upon divorce ; taxes were levied
upon the obstinate bachelor and widower who clung
to what he called the blessings of detached irrespon-
sibility {prcsmia orbitatis). These laws were all based
on the theory that it is a man's civic duty to marry
and give sons and daughters to the service of his
countr)^, and we find one of the Panegyrists declar-
ing them to be the very foundation of the State,
because they supply a nursery of youth and a con-
stant flow of manly vigour to the Roman armies. ^
Yet so powerful were the attractions of a child-
less life {pr(2valida orbitate — Tac, Ann., iii., 25) that

* Vere dicuntar esse fundamenta rei piihliccE, quia seminarium
juventutis et quasi foiitem hittnani roboris semper Romanis exerciti-
hus ministrarunt {Pan Vet., vi., 2).

350 Constantine

the whole series of Julian laws on this subject had
proved of little value, and Tacitus had declared that
the remedy was worse than the disease. The motives
of the luxurious voluptuary or the fastidious cynic
were widely different from those of the Christian
enthusiast for bodily purity, but by a curious irony
they were directed towards the same object — the
avoidance of matrimony.

There was also brought against Christianity the
charge that it discouraged military service and looked
askance upon the profession of arms. The accusa-
tion is true within certain limits. Christianity was
and is a gospel of peace. Ideally, therefore, it is
always antagonistic to war as a general principle, and
there is always a considerable section of Christian
opinion which is opposed, irrespective of the justice
of the quarrel, to an appeal to arms. That section
of Christian opinion was naturally at its strongest
when the Roman Empire was pagan, and when it
was practically impossible for a Christian to be a
soldier without finding himself compelled to worship,
at the altars of Rome, the Roman Emperor and the
Roman gods. Omnis militia est rcligio, Seneca had
said most truly. There was a permanent altar fixed
before the prcetorium of every camp. That being
the case, one can understand that the army was re-
garded with abhorrence by every Christian at a time
when Christianity was a proscribed, or barely toler-
ated, religion, and hence the violent denunciations of
the army and military service to be found in sonie of
the early Fathers. Hence too the number of Christian
soldier martyrs, who had been converted while serv-

The Empire and Christianity 351

ing in the ranks. But the whole case was changed
when the Roman Emperor was a Christian, and the
army took its oath to a champion and no longer to
an enemy of the Church. The bishops at once
changed front — they could not help themselves —
and at the Council of Aries we have seen the Gal-
lican bishops passing a canon anathematising any
Christian who flung down his arms in time of peace.
There were still extremists, as there are to-day, who
denounced war with indiscriminate censure ; there
must have been a much larger number who ac-
quiesced in standing armies as a necessary evil, but
themselves carefully kept aloof from service ; the
majority, as to-day, would recognise that the security
of a State rests ultimately upon force, and would
pray that their cause might be just whenever that
force had to be put into operation. It is not Ter-
tullian with his dangerous doctrine that politics
have no interest for the Christian {iicc tilla luagis res
aliena giiain publico), that the Christian has no coun-
try but the world, and that Christ had bidden the
nations disarm when he bade Peter put up his
sword — it is not Tertullian who is the typical repre-
sentative of the Church in its relations with the State
and mundane affairs, but the broad-minded Augustine
who, when nervous Christians appealed to him to
say whether a Christian could serve God as a soldier,
said that a man might do his duty to his God and
his Emperor as well in a camp as elsewhere.

God-fearing men could spend their days in the
legions without peril to their souls, but the atmo-
sphere of a Roman camp, full as it was of barbarians

352 Constantine

and semi-barbarians, naturally cannot have been
congenial to the Christian religion. In spite of the
Labarum, service in the army was discountenanced
by the more zealous Christian bishops. Yet nothing
could be more unfair than to charge Christianity
with having introduced into the Roman world the
reluctance to carry arms. That reluctance dated
back to the latter days of the Republic. Christianity
merely intensified it.

Christianity, again, may be acquitted of having
caused the decadence of literature and the arts.
That decadence was of long standing. There had
been a steady decline from the brilliant circle of
Augustan poets and prose writers to the days of the
Antonines. The third century had been utterly
barren of great names. Literature had become
imitation ; originality was lost. Society was literary
in tone ; grammarians and rhetoricians flourished ;
learning was not dead but active ; yet the results,
so far as creative work was concerned, were miser-
ably small. But if Christianity cannot be held re-
sponsible for the poverty of imagination in the
ranks of pagan society, it must be held responsi-
ble for its own shortcomings. It often assumed an
attitude of open hostility to the ancient literature,
which was to be explained — and, so long as pagan-
ism was a living force, might be justified — by the
fact that the poetry of Rome was steeped in
pagan associations. Men to whom Jupiter was a
false deity or demon ; to whom the radiance of
Apollo was hateful because it was a snare to the
unwary ; to whom the purity of Diana, the cold

The Empire and Christianity 353

stateliness of Minerva, the beauty of Venus, and
the bountifulness of Ceres, were all treacherous
delusions and masks of sin, and all equally per-
nicious to the soul, found in the very charm of
style and the seductiveness of language of the old
poetry another reason for keeping it out of the
hands of their children and for themselves eschewing
its dangerous delights. It is difficult to blame them.
Protestants and Catholics even of the present day
are studiously ignorant of the special literatures of
the other, and if the Christian eschewed the class-
ical poets, the educated pagan was grotesquely
ignorant of the Christian's "Holy Books."

But this point must not be pursued too far.
Education itself was based on the ancient Htera-
ture of Greece and Rome — there was, indeed, no-
thing else on which to base it — and in the ablest
and most cultured of the Christian writers the
influence of the classical authors is evident on every
page. Jerome dreamt that an angel came to
rebuke him for his love of the rounded periods of
Cicero — Ciceronianiis es, non Christianus. Augustine
bewails the tears he had wasted on the moving
story of the Fall of Troy, while his heart was in-
sensible to the sufferings of the Son of God.
Lines and half lines from Virgil, or the choice of a
Virgilian epithet, betray the ineradicable influence
of the Mantuan over Ambrose. Even the author
of the De Mortibus Perseciitorum, despite his fero-
cious hatred of paganism, takes evident pleasure
in the Ciceronian flavour of his maledictions. Do
what he would, the cultured and educated Christian

354 Constantine

could not escape from the spell of the poets of
antiquity. There were, of course, narrow-minded
fanatics in plenty who would cheerfully have burned
the contents of every pagan library and have
imagined that they were offering an acceptable
sacrifice, and there were doubtless many more who,
without vindictiveness towards the classics, were
quite content with want of culture, deeming that
ignorance was more becoming to Christian sim-
plicity {Simplex sermo veritatis.) The tendencies of
Christianity, as compared with paganism, were not
towards what we call the humanities and a liberal
education, for the dominant feeling was that there
was only one book in the world which really mat-
tered, and that was the Bible. There was, it is true,
a slight literary renaissance starting at the close of
the fourth century, with which we associate the
names of Ausonius, Paulinus of Nola, Prudentius,
and Claudian. This was mainly Christian. Ausonius
strictly followed classical models; the graceful yet
vigorous hymns of Prudentius were an original and
valuable contribution to literature ; Claudian stands
neutral. "The last of the classics," as Mr. Mackail
has well said,* " he is, at the same time, the earliest
and one of the most distinguished of the classicists.
It might seem a mere chance whether his poetry
belonged to the fourth or to the sixteenth century."
This literary renaissance, however, was a last flicker,
and while we have to thank the Church for preserv-
ing the Latin tongue, we owe it little thanks —
compared with the paganism it had overthrown — for

* History of Latin Literature, Bk. III., c. 7.

The Empire and Christianity 355

its services to culture and the humanities. In the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the classics had
to be rediscovered and relearnt : the dead spirit of
humanism had to be quickened to a new birth.

Hard things have been said of Christianity and
its influence upon the Roman Empire, harder per-
haps than the facts warrant, though the bitterness
of many of the critics has been directly provoked
by the boundless assumptions of the Christian
apologists. Looking back dispassionately upon the
period with which we have been dealing, it is not
difificult to see why the Church triumphed and
why the nations acquiesced as readily as they did in
the downfall of paganism. The reason is that the
world had grown stale. It had outlived all its
old ideals. It was sick of doubt, weary of bloodshed
and strife, and nervously apprehensive, we can
hardly question, of the cataclysm that was to burst
upon the West and submerge it before another
century was over. The philosophies were worn out.
The gods themselves had grown grey. There was
a general atmosphere of numbness and decrepitude.
Men wanted consolation and hope. Christianity
alone could supply it, and though Christianity itself
had lost its early joyousness, freshness, and simplicity,
it retained unimpaired its marvellous powers to con-
sole. To a world tired of questioning and search it
returned an answer for which it claimed the sanction
of absolute Truth. The old spirit was not wholly
dead. One may see it revive from time to time in
the various heresies which split the Church. But it
was ruthlessly suppressed, and humanity had to

356

Constantine

purchase back its liberty of thought at a great price,
ten or more centuries later, when the world realised
that her ancient deliverer had herself become a
tyrant. Nevertheless, few can seriously doubt
that the triumph of the Christian Church was an
unspeakable boon to mankind. The Roman Empire
was doomed. Its downfall was certain and, on the
whole, was even to be desired, so long as its civil-
isation was not wholly wiped out and the genius of
past generations was not wholly destroyed.

INDEX

Achillas, 190

Acts of Pilate, The, anti-
Christian pamphlet, 145,
146

Adrianople, battle of, 128,

158
iElianus, Proconsul of Africa,

172, 173

Alemanni defeated by Cris-
pus, 124

Alexander, a Phrygian, leads
revolt in Africa, 76

Alexander of Alexandria,
holds Arius in high esteem ,
190; becomes involved in
controversy with Arius,
192 ff.; summons provin-
cial synod, 195; denounces
Arians, 201 ff.; attacks Eu-
sebius of Nicomedia, 203;
at Council of Nicsea, 214;
influenced by Athanasius,
215; prayer for the truth in
regard to Arius, 274, 298;
death, 286; refuses to ad-
mit Arius to communion,
298

Amandus, Admiral, defeated
by Crispus, 129

Ambrose, St., exhortations to
avoid marriage, 348; influ-
enced by Virgil, 353

Ammianus Marcellinus,
quoted, 345

Anastasia, half-sister to Con-
stantine, 120

Anastasis, Church of, dedi-
cated, 3 1 1
Ancyra, Council of, canons,

153 .

Annibalianus, son-in-law of
Constantine, 309

Antony, Saint, 147, 297

Anulinus,proconstil of Africa,
letter from Constantine to,
167, 168

Apollo, statue of, 270, 271

Arcadius, rebuilds walls of
Constantinople, 266

Arch of Constantine, 91

Arian controversy, 189 ff.;
223 ff.; Canon Bright on,
194; Gibbon on, 194

Arianism, origin, 189 ff.;
leading tenet, 193 ff., 198,
223, 224; Canon Bright on,
194, class to which it ap-
pealed, 197 ff.; claims, 198
ff. ; formal condemnation
of, 229

Arians, edicts against, 286;
and Constantia, 289; para-
mount at Imperial Court,
290; plot against Athana-
sius, 290

"Ariomaniacs," 206

Aristaces repeats Nicene
Creed to his father, 285

Arius, a power in Alexandria,
190; character, 190, 191;
preaching strange doctrine,
191; starts controversy,
192 ff.; denounces Alexan-
der, 193; defends his doc-

357

358

Index

Arius (Continued)

trine before synod, 195 ff.;
excommunicated, 196, 231,
236 ; finds champion in
Eusebius of Nicomedia, 200
ff.; synod of Bithynian
bishops sympathises with,
202 ff.; Thalia, 204 ff., 222,
231 ; Constantine inter-
venes between Alexander
and, 207 ff.; at Council of
NicEea, 214, 221, 231, 236;
and Eusebian party, 229
ff.; recalled from exile, 287,
288 ; Constantine 's attack
on, 288 ; pronounced a true
Catholic by Council of
Tyre, 295 ; returns to Alex-
andria, 297; questioned as
to his faith, by Constan-
tine, 297; seeks admission
to Church at Constanti-
nople, 298, 299; death, 299,
300

Aries, Council of, 173-176;
canons of, 177, 178, 351

Armenia, recovered for Rome,
6; Saint Gregory in, 27

Arsenius, legend of withered
hand, 293

Athanasians and baptism of
Constantine, 315

Athanasius, Saint, on help
given to persecuted Chris-
tians, 28; First Discourse
against the Arians, quoted,
204, 205 ; influence on Alex-
ander, 214, 215; leader of
Trinitarians, 221 ; on Coun-
cil of Nicaea, 222-224; in
Arian controversy, 227;
condemnation of, 231, 295;
banished, 239, 296; elected
bishop, 286; plot against,
290 ; refuses to restore Arius
to communion, 291; Con-
stantine threatens, 291,
292; campaign of calumny

against, 292; refuses to
attend trial at Caesarea,
293; trial at Council of
Tyre, 293-295; appeals to
Constantine, 294, 295.

Augustaeum, the, 268, 269

Augustine, Saint, Bishop of
Hippo, on Botrus and Ce-
lestius, 164; on Donatists,
181, 182; on the Circtun-
celliones, 186; and the
Donatist schism, 187; on
Constantine , 3 2 9 ; on Christ-
ian duty. 351 ; and ancient
literature, 353

Aurelian, Emperor, recovers
Britain and Gaul, 3 ; mur-
dered, 4; persecution of
Christians, 13; influence
on Galerius, 17; subdues
Goths and Sarmatae, 123

Ausonius, 354

Bassianus, 120

Botrus, deacon, 164

Bright, Canon, quoted, on
Arianism, 194, 199; on
philosophy and the Church,
227

Britain, Carausius ruler of, 6 ;
Constantius ruler of, 8;
Constantine rvder of, 51,
56, 76, 82; Constantius re-
covers, 52, 53 ; Crispus ruler
of, 124

Burnt Pillar, the, 270

Bury, Professor, quoted, on
Constantine, 328

Byzantium, capitulation of,
115, 128; naval battle at,
129, 259; advantages of
position, 259, 261; chosen
by Constantine as site for
a new city, 259, 260; re-
nowned, 261 ; withstands
Philip of Mace don, 262;

Index

359

Byzantium (Continued)

Polybius on, 262; prosper-
ity, 262, 263

Byzas, the Megarian, founder
of Byzantium, 261

Caecilianus, rebukes Lucilla,
163; elected bishop, 164;
position challenged, 165,
166, 170, 171, 173, 178;
letter from Constantine to,
166, 167; summoned to
Rome, 180, 181; Constan-
tine's verdict on, 182 ; Don-
atists refuse to obey, 184

Cagsarea, Council of, 292, 293

Caius, 238

Candidianus executed, 119

Carausius, 6, 65

Carinus, son of Carus, Em-
pire divided between Nu-
merian and, 4; death, 5

Carnuntum, conference at,
63.64

Carthage sacked, 76

Carthage, Council of, 188

Carus devastates Persia, 4

Catholic Party, 165 ff.; 297

Celestius, deacon, 164

"Champions of the Lord,"
the, 185

Chrestus, Bishop of Syracuse,

175

Christian martys, 15, 17 ff.,
28, 30 ff., 136 ff., 147, 157

Christian schools of Antioch
and Alexandria, 213

Christianity, rapid spread,
12; embraced by Constan-
tine, 93 ^.,306,312 /7.; ele-
ment in disintegration of
Empire, 343, 344, 346;
element of assimilation,
345; tendency to depopu-
late Empire, 346-350; and
asceticism, 346-348; and
military service, 350-352;

and literature and art,
352-354; influence upon
Roman Empire, 355, 356

Christians, persecution of, 12
ff., 27, 1^4 ff.; erect church
at Nicomedia, 13 ; and Neo-
Platonists, 19, 20

Chrysopolis, battle of, 130,
158

Church, the, condition in
reign of Diocletian, 12-14,
16; persecution of, 12 ff.,
134 ff.; and State, 13, 14,
158, 234, 343, 344; schisms
in, 153, 159^., 189; 211 /f.;
triumph of, 236, 355, 356;
persecution ended, 285;
and marriage, 349

Cibalis, battle of, 121

Circumcelliones, a religious
sect, 185, 186

Cirta, capital of Numidia,
sacked, 76; renamed, 186

Cirta, synod of, 161, 162

Cistern of Philoxenos, 273

Claudian, 354

Claudius subdues Goths and
Sarmatae, 3, 123

Coins, 239, 314, 318

Colonus, the, condition, 340,

342, 343
3k

Column of Constantine, 270

Constans, son of Constantine,
238, 309

Constantia, wife of Licinius,
pleads for his life 131; in-
fluence, 200, 230, 239, 289

Constantina, daughter of
Constantine, 309

Constantina, new name of
Cirta, 186

Constantine, Emperor, birth
and parentage, 43, 44;
birthplace, 44, 260; early
life and characteristics, 45 ; 1 4 ^
ambitions, 46; escape from . 4(
Galerius, 47 ; joms his
father, 48 ; saluted as

36o

Index

Constantine (Continued)
Augustus by the troops, 49 ;
declares himself Emperor,
50 ; acknowledged as Cassar
by Galerius, 50; Caesar of
the West, 51 ; victory over
the Franks, 53-55; atti-
tude toward Galerius, 60;
marriage, 61; alliance of
Maximian and Maxen-
tius with, 62 ; relations
with Diocletian, 64; ac-
knowledged as Augustus
by Galerius, 66 ; recognises
Maximian, 67 ; expedi-
tion against the Franks,
67, 68; quells Maxim-
ian, 69; plots against, 70,
7 1 ; his domain, 7 6 ; alliance
of Licinius with, 79; war
with Maxentius, 80 ff.;
battle of Milvian Bridge,
86, 87; triumphal proces-
sion in Rome, 88 ; disbands
Praetorians, 89 ; acts of con-
ciliation, 90; games and
festivals in honour of, 91;
vision of the Cross and

.^conversion, 92, 95 /7-.' issues
Edict of Milan, 107 ff.; and
Licinius share Roman Em-
pire, 120; war with Licin-
ius, 120 ff.; defeats Licinius
at Cibalis, 121; defeats Li-
cinius at Mardia, 121;
treaty with Licinius, 122;
appoints Crispus as Caesar,
122; his sons, 123; rupture
with Licinius, 123 ff., 154;
triumphs of, 124; cham-
pion of the Church, 126,
127; defeats Licinius at
Adrianople, 128 ; victory at
Byzantium, 129; general-
ship of, 130; victory at
Chrysopolis, 130; treat-
ment of Licinius, 131, 132;
signs edict of toleration,

140; overthrow of Maxen-
tius, 153; recalls exiled
Christians, 158; and the
Donatists, 159 ff.; African
bishops appeal to, 159;
presents money to Afri-
can clergy, 166; letter to
Caecilianus, 166; letter to
Anulinus, 167; party of Ma-
jorinus appeal to, 169; let-
ter to Mil tiades, 169; letter
to ^lianus, 172-174; letter
to Chrestus, 175; letter to
Council of Aries, 178-180;
summons Caecilianus to
Rome, 180 ; letter to Dona-
tist bishops, 180; letter
to Probianus, 181; passes
judgment on Caecilianus,
182 ; change of policy. 183 ;
ignores African Church,
185 ; letter to the Catholics
and his opinion of the
Donatists, 187; and Arian
controversy, 189, 207-210,
285-297; calls Council of
Nicasa, 211; opens the
Council, 217-219; and Ni-
cene Creed, 230 ; celebrates
his Vicennalia, 232, 233,
239,322; farewell speech to
Council of Nicaea, 233, 234:
letter "To the Churches,"
235; family, 237; mother's
influence upon, 238, 239;
and Procession of the
Knights, 240; edict to his
subjects, 241 ; turns against
Crispus, 242; murder of
Crispus, Licinianus, and
Fausta, 243-247; repent-
ance, 247, 249; donation
of, 248, 249; baptism, 248,
249; builds churches, 249,
251, 318, 319; campaigns
against the Goths and Sar-
matae, 252, 253; confession
of faith, 254, 255; rela-

Index

361

Constantine {Continued)
tionswith Persia, 254-256;
founder of Constantinople,
257 ff.; edicts against the
Arians, 286; character, 301
ff.; passion for building,
302, 303; division of the
Empire, 307-311; educa-
tion of his sons, 308; cele-
brates Tricennalia, 311;
fatal malady, 312, 313;
death and burial, 256, 313,
314; and religious parties,
316; daily religious life,
317; edict for observance
of Lord's day, 319; prayer,
319; policy toward old re-
ligion, 320 ff.; edict giving
religious freedom, 321;
Pontifex Maximus, 322 ff.;
and divination, 326; edict
to abolish gladiatorial
shows, 327; reforms, 330;
attitude of subjects to, 33 1 ;
organisation of Empire,
331; fiscal system of, 339-
342

Constantine, son of the Em-
peror Constantine, 296,
309

Constantinople, foundation
of, 257 /f.; called "New
Rome," 258; and Napo-
leon, 259; part rebuilt,
266; called Septicollis, 266;
dedication, 267; plan and
buildings, 269; forum, 269;
palaces, 272; aqueducts,
273; Hippodrome, 274,
276; churches, 274-276

Constantinus, son of Con-
stantine, 309, 314

Constantius, son of Constan-
tine, persecution of Christ-
ians, 134; birth, 238;
appointed Caesar of Gaul,
242; nanied consul, 243

Constantius Chlorus, Caesar,

5 ; goes to Britain, 6 ; do-
main, 8; character, 16, 328;
attitude toward Christ-
ians, 16, 26; becomes em-
peror, 40; ancestry, 44;
marriage, 44; loyalty, 46;
death, 49

Consuls, 334

"Council of the 318," the,
212

Crispus, son of Constantine,
becomes Caesar, 122; vic-
tory over Alemanni, 124,
125; victory over Aman-
dus, 129; heir to throne,
237; victories, 237; and
Fausta, 238; Constantine
turns against, 242, 243;
death, 243

Curia, the, 338

Dalmatius, 310

Damasus, Pope, 152

Datianus, 29

Decius, Emperor, persecu-
tion of the Christians, 13

Diocletian, Emperor, acces-
sion, 5, 45; chooses col-
leagues, 5 ; recovers Arme-
nia for Rome 6; attitude
toward Galerius, 7,8; con-
trolling spirit in the Em-
pire, 8; locates his capital,
8, 57; domain, 8; changes
introduced by, 9; decen-
tralisation in the pro-
vinces, 10; prosperous
reign, 11; persecution of
the Christians, 12, 24/f.; 79,
160; wife and daughters,
13; neutrality toward the
Church, 14 ; neutraUty
changed to antagonism,
16. 19: influenced by Ga-
lerius, 16, 25, 70, 74; edict
against the Manichasans,

362

Index

Diocletian (Continued)

22, 23; and Galerius, 23;
edicts against the Christ-
ians, 26, 99, 134; motive
for persecution, 38; abdi-
cation, 39, 41, 43; chooses
new Caesars, 40, 41, retires
to private Hfe, 40, 46;
system of organisation,
50, 65, 66, 74, 123, 242,
311. 330. 33.1, 337; recog-
nises Carausius, 51 ;mvited
to conference at Carnun-
tum, 63, 64; relations with
Constantine, 64; treatment
of the Senate, 90; declines
invitation to wedding of
Constantine 's sister, 106;
wife and daughter, 118,
119; wishes daughter to
live with him , 119; cele-
brates Vicennalia, 134,
239, 240; proclaims am-
nesty, 134 _
Donatist schism, 159-188
Donatists, 159-188; Constan-
tine's letter to, 180; raison
d'etre, 183; increase in
numbers, 185
Donatus Magnus, leader of
Donatist schism, 166, 173,
184, 185
Donatus of Casae Nigrae, 165
Donatus of Mascula, 161

Easter, celebration, 231, 232

Education, basis of, 353 ; and
Christianity, 354 .

Eusebian party, rise, 221;
and Nicene Creed, 229, 230;
in favour at Imperial
Court, 290; confounded at
Arius's death, 299

Eusebius of Csesarea, on Con-
stantine's conversion, 93
ff.; letter of Constantine to.

158; friend of Arius, 196,
214; teachings, 200; on
Arian controversy, 206;
supports middle party at
Council of Nicsea, 221;
creed of, 224, 225; signs
Nicene Creed, 229, 230; on
Constantine 's baptism,
death, and burial, 312, 315 ;
on Constantine 's daily life,
317; on Constantine 's re-
ligious policy, T,2o ff.
Eusebius of Nicomedia, as
historian, 25; History of
the Church, 27, 71, 97; Life
of Constantine, 27, 97;
champion of Arius, 200
ff., 214; calls a synod of
Bithynian bishops, 202;
attacked by Alexander,
203 ; leader of middle party
at Council of Nicsea, 221;
character, 222 ; and the
word "Homoousion," 224;
signs Nicene Creed, 231;
exiled, 231, 236; recalled,
287, 288; succeeds Hosius
as adviser to Constantine,
290, 300, 316; attack on
Athanasius, 291 ff.; at-
tempt to restore Arius,
291; baptises Constantine,

Evistathius, Bishop of An-
tioch, charges against, 291

Eutropius, on Constantino's
character, 306, 307

Fausta, wife of Constantine,
reveals conspiracy against
Constantine, 71; sons, 123;
attitude toward Crispus,
238, 243, 244; death, 244,
24s, 247

Felix, Bishop of Aptunga,
164, 165, 173

Index

363

Finance, system of, under

Diocletian, 337-339. 342;

under Constantine, 339-

342
FiiTnilianus, Governor of

Palestine, persecution of

Christians, 136
Franks, i, 5, 54, 253

Galerius, Emperor, becomes
Caesar, 5, 39; entrusted
with command of Parthia,
6; victory over Parthians,
7, 74; and Diocletian,
8; domain, 8; capital at
Sirmium, 8; character and
influence, 16, 25; mother's
influence, 16; persecution
of Christians, 17-19, 23-
25, 74; becomes Augustus,
40 ; nominates new Caesars,
41, 42; attitude toward
Constantine, 42, 46, 60;
sends Constantine to his
father, 47, 48; acknow-
ledges Constantine as Cae-
sar, 50 ; extends the census,
57; relations with Severus,
59; invasion of Italy, 60-
62, 76, 81; calls a confer-
ence at Camuntum, 63 ;
and Diocletian, 63 ; ap-
points Licinius as Augus-
tus, 64, 65 ; relations with
Maximin Daza, 65, 66;
recognises Maximin as Au-
gustus, 66; death, 73, 74,
138; estimate of the man,
74, 75; nominates his suc-
cessor, 75; edicts, 79, 99;
aims carried out, 89 ; leaves
wife to care of Maximin,
118; edict of toleration,
138-140

Gallienus, and senatorial or-
der, 9; issues edicts of tol-
eration, 13

Gaul, devastated by Franks,
I ; recovered by Aurelian,
3 ; at Diocletian's acces-
sion, 6; Constantius ruler
of, 8, 52; Constantine in,
51, 56, 76, 82; Crispus in,
124, 242

Gibbon on the Circumcel-
liones, 186; on the Arian
controversy, 194; on Con-
stantinople, 263, 264; on
Annibaliantis , 309

Goths, invade Roman Em-
pire, 123, 124; war with
Constantine, 252

Gregory of Nyssa on Arian
controversy, 206

Gregory, Saint, in Armenia,
27

Gregory, the Illuminator of
Armenia, and the Nicene
Creed, 285

Grosvenor, Mr., quoted on
Constantinople , 273, 275,
278, 281

Helena, mother of Constan-
tine, ancestry, 43, 44;
honoured by Constantine,
239; and death of Crispus,
245; pilgrimage, 249-251;
legend of finding of the
Cross, 250, 251; death, 252

Heraclea, siege of, 115

Heraclius, elected bishop,
152

Herculius, 8

Hermogenes, 228

Hierocles, author of The
Friend of Truth, 20

Holy Apostles, Church of,

27s
Holy Trinity, Church of, 275
Horses of Lysippus, 283
Hosius, Bishop of Cordova,

commissioned to mediate

3^4

Index

Hosius (Continued)

between Alexander and
Arius, 207 ; advises Con-
stantine, 2 1 1 ; at Council of
Nicsea, 212, 221, 228; falls
from favour, 290, 316

Imperial Council, 333
Italy, invasion of, y^ ff.

Jerome, Saint, exhortations
against marriage, 348, 349;
dream of, 353

Jovius, adopted name of Dio-
cletian, 8

Julian, Banquet of the Ccesars,

77
Julian, Emperor, on Constan-
tine, 124, 303-305, on Con-
stantinople, 268
Julian laws on marriage, 350
Justinian, statue of, 269;
builds Church of St. Sophia,
274, 276

Lactantius, estimate of, as
historian, 40-42, 47

Land tax, 337 ff.

Licinianus, becomes Csesar,
122; attitude of Constan-
tine toward, 125; life
spared, 133; death, 243

Licinius, Emperor, at confer-
ence of Carnuntum, 63 ; be-
comes Augustus, 64-66;
successor of Galerius, 75;
and Maximin Daza in east-
ern half of Empire, 76; at-
titude to Maximin Daza,
79, 80; alliance with Con-

stantmc, 79; marriage, 79,
106; and Edict of Milan,
107 ff.; other edicts, 109;
downfall, 115 ff.; at Milan,
115; victory over Maxi-
min Daza, 116, 117; angel's
revelation to, 116; execu-
tion of Maximin Daza's
family, 118, 119; execu-
tion of Candidianus, 119;
and Constantine share Em-
pire, 120; war with Con-
stantine, 120; defeated at
Cibalis, 121; defeated at
Mardia, 121; treaty with
Constantine, 122; appoints
Licinianus as Caesar, 122;
gives up important pro-
vinces, 122; rupture with
Constantine, 123, 125-127,
154, 157; religious policy,
126, 127; defeated at Adri-
anople, 128; defeated at
Chrysopolis, 130 ; pleads for
his life", 131; death, 132;
character, 132; edict of
toleration, 138-140; de-
feats Maximin, 153; anti-
Christian campaign, 154,
155,157; throws over Edict
of Milan, 155; exile, 158

Literature , anti-Christian ,
145; decadence of, 352;
character of pagan, 352;
basis of education, 353;
renaissance of, 354

Lucian of Antioch, famous
teacher, 200, 201

Lucilla, censured by Church
of Carthage, 162-164; in-
trigues of, 188

Ludi Cereales, 36

Lycians, petition of, 142, 143

Mackail, Mr., History of Latin
Literature, quoted, 354

Index

365

Majorinus, elected bishop,
165 ; death, 165 ; not recog-
nised by the cihurches, 166

Mamertinus, eulogy on Max-
imian, 52

Manichasanism, rise, 22, 23;
chief characteristic, 22

Marcellus, elected bishop,
151 ; exile and death, 152

Mardia, battle of, 121

Maris of Chalcedon, and Ni-
cene Creed, 230, 231; ex-
iled, 231

Marriage, Jerome exhorts
against, 348, 349; and the
State and Church, 349

Martinianus, becomes Caesar,
130; death, 133

Maxentius, Emperor, son of
Maximian, claims heritage
of Caesar, 56; character,
56, 77-79; marriage, 57;
master of Rome, 57, 58;
resumes title of Augustus,
59; and Maximian besiege
Severus, 59, 60; and Max-
imian in alliance with
Constantine, 60; and Max-
imian in possession of
Italy, 62 ; rupture with
Maximian, 62, 63, 67, 70;
domain, 76; treatment of
African cities, 76; loss of
popularity, 76; restores
property to Christians, 79,
15 2 ; attitude to other Au-
gusti, 79; alliance with
Maximin Daza, 80; war
with Constantine, 80 ff.;
overthrow, 82 ff., no, 154;
Italy wrested from, 85;
death, 87; head carried in
triumphal procession, 88 ;
seeks good-will of Christ-
ians, 151; exiles bishops,
152; libel against, 163

Maximian, Emperor, be-
comes CcEsar, 5 ; becomes

Augustus , 5 ; ruler of the
West, 6, '8; fights the
Moors, 6 ; recognises Carau-
sius, 6, 51; styles himself
Herculius, 8 ; character, 14,
1 5 ; persecution of the
Christians, 15-19, 160;
celebrates the Ludi Cere-
ales, 36; abdication, 40, 56;
restores peace to Gaul, 51;
eulogised by Mamertirrus,
5 2 ; locates his Court at
Milan, 57; resumes title of
Augustus, 59; victory over
Severus, 59, 60; and Max-
entius in alliance with Con-
stantine, 60, 62; gives his
daughter in marriage to
Constantine, 61, 62; and
Maxentius in possession of
Italy, 62; rupture with
Maxentius, 62, 63, 67, 70;
expelled from Italy, 63 ; at
conference of Carnimtiim,
63, 65 ; ex- Augustus, 65,66;
returns to Gaul, 67; plots
against Constantine, 68, 69 ;
stripped of his titles, 69 ; fur-
ther plots against Constan-
tine, 70, 71 ; death, 71,72
Maximin Daza, Emperor, be-
comes Caesar, 40, 57 ; nomi-
nated by Galerius, 41, 42;
domain, 65, 75; claims
title of Augustus, 66;
claims title of senior Au-
gustus, 75; and Licinius
in eastern half of Empire,
76; alliance with Maxen-
tius, 79, 80, 148; in op-
position to Licinius, 80,
107; invades territory of
Licinius, 115, 148; de-
feated, 116, 117, 148, 153;
flight 117, 118, 148; com-
mits suicide, 118, 151; pro-
vince falls into hands of
Licinius, 1 18; family slain,

366

Index

Maximin Daza (Continued)
ii8; treatment of Prisca
and Valeria, ii8, 119;
persecution of Christians,

135-137. 141-143. 145-
147; act of toleration, 137,
1 49-1 5 1 ; restores privi-
leges to Christians, 140,
149, 150; character, 146,
147; eminent victims of,
147; war with Tiridates,
148; final edict, 149, 150
Maxim us, Governor of Cilicia,

30
Maximus, Governor of Moesia,

17. 18

Meletian schismatics checked,
297

Meletians recognised as or-
thodox, 295

Meletius, Bishop of Lyco-
polis, condemned by Egyp-
tian bishops, 190

Mensurius, Bishop of Car-
thage and Primate of
Africa, trick to save Holy
Books, 160; summoned to
Rome, 164; death, 164

Milan, conference at, 106

Milan, Edict of, issued, 107,
115; important clauses,
107, 108; principles and
motives of, 109, no ff.;
hailed by the Christians,
153; thrown over by Li-
cinius, 155

Military forces, organisation
of, 336, 337

Miltiades elected bishop, 152

Milvian Bridge, battle of, 86,
87, 92

Minervina, first wife of Con-
stantine, son of, 122, 123

Moesia, given over to Con-
stantine, 122; invaded by
Goths and Sarmatse, 123

Montanism, in Northern
Africa, 159

Naissus, birthplace of Con-
stantine, 44, 260

Narses sues for peace. 7

Neo-Platonists, influence, 19,
197; discussions of interest
to, 216

"New Rome," 259

Newman, Cardinal, quoted,
on death of Arius, 300

r^icaea, Canons of, 231, 232

Nicsea, Council of, called by
Constantine, 211; mem-
bers, 212-214; language,
213; great interest aroused
in, 215; Constantine opens
the Council, 217-220;
splits up into parties, 221
ff.; proceedings. 221 ff.;
adopts Nicene Creed, 228;
excommunicates Arius,
231; decision in regard to
Easter, 231; draws up
Canons of Nicaa, 231; fare-
well address by Constan-
tine, 233; dismissed, 234

Nicene Creed adopted, 228

Nicomedia, capital of Dio-
cletian, 8, 39, 258, 260;
Christian church erected
at, 13 ; church at, razed, 24

No^■atianism in Northern
Africa, 159

Numerian, son of Carus, Em-
pire divided between Cari-
nus and, 4; death, 5

Pagan clergy, 146

Pamphylians, petition of,
142, 143

Pannonia, given over to Con-
stantine, 122; invaded by
Goths and Sarmatae, 123

Paphnutius, 232, 233

Index

367

Parthia, war with Rome, 7

Parthians, 2

"Passion of the Saints," 35,
36.

Paulinus of Nola, 354

PauUnus of Tyre, treatment
of Arius, 196; letter from
Eusebius of Nicomedia,
202

Persia, relations with Con-
stantine, 254-256

Philostorgius, on Fausta, 244

Philoxenos, 273

Polybius, quoted, on Byzan-
tium, 262

Porphyry, Neo - Platonist
philosopher, 19

Porphyry Pillar, the, 270

Praetorian praefects, 331, 332

Prffitorians, mutiny at Rome,
57; camps abolished, 58;
rule Rome, 77, 78; dis-
banded, 89

Praetors, 334

Prisca, wife of Diocletian, a
Christian, 13; exiled, 118,
119; death, 120, 132

Probus, 4, 17

Prudentius, 354

Purpurius, Bishop of Limata,
161

Roman Empire, threatened
fall in third century, i ff.;
turn of fortune, 3 ; under
Diocletian, 5 ff.; 330; di-
vided into twelve dioceses,
10, 331; prosperity, 11;
population, 12; shared by
Constantine and Licinius,
1 20 ; invaded by Goths and
Sarmatae, 123, 124; united,
133; peace , 252; war with
Goths and Sarmatae, 252;
reorganisation under Con-
stantine, 330 ff.; disinte-
gration, 342 ff.

Rome, 57, 258
Rome, Council of, 176
Ruricius Pompeianus, holds
Verona, 83; killed, 85

Sabinus, praefect, 140, 143

St. Irene, Church of, de-
scription of, 274, 275

St. Sophia, Church of, 274

St. Stephen, Church of, 278

Sapor, king of Persia, rela-
tions with Constantine,
254-256

Sarmatae, invade Roman Em-
pire, 123; turn to Constan-
tine for help, 253

Saturninus, speech of, 3

Secundus, Bishop of Tigisis,
president of synod at Cirta,
161, 162, 165

Secundus of Ptolemais, Bish-
op, friend of Arius, 196

Senate, 335, 336

Seneca, quoted, 350

Senecio, 120

Severus, Emperor, becomes
Caesar, 40, 56, 57; nomi-
nated by Galerius, 41, 59;
domain, 56 ; besieges Rome,
59; besieged by Maximian
and Maxentius, 59-60; is
given choice of death, 72

Simon Stylites, 347

Sirmitom, capital of Galerius,
8

Slavery, 342

Socrates, quoted, 216, 220,
287, 288, 298, 299

Sopater, pagan philosopher,
in favour with Constan-
tine, 324

Sotades of Crete, pagan poet,
204

Sozomen, quoted, 216

Stanley, Dean, History of the
Eastern Church, quoted,
226

3^^

Index

Sylvanus, Bishop, 162
Sylvester, Bishop of Rome,
sends representatives to
Council of Aries ,175; letter
to, from Council of Aries,
176, 177 ; absent from Coun-
cil of Nicsea, 212, 213;
baptises Constantine, 248;
legends concerning Con-
stantine and, 248, 249

Tacitus, rule of, 4; on child-
less life, 349

Taxation, 337-342

Temporal Power, legend of
origin, 248, 249

Terminalia, Festival of, 24

Tertullian and his doctrine,

351

Theban Legion, legend of its
massacre, 14, 15

Theodora, wife of Constan-
tius Chlorus, 44

Theodoretus, rival of Arius,
190; on the Council of
Nicaea, 220, 223

Theodosius II., rebuilds walls
of Constantinople, 266; at-
titude toward recluses, 348

Theodotus of Ancyra, 30

Theognis of Nicaea, and Ni-
cene Creed, 230, 231; ex-
iled, 231 ; recalled, 287, 288

Theonas, Bishop of Marmor-
ica, friend of Arius, 196

Theotecnus, Governor of An-
tioch, 142; invented new
deity, 145

Thessalonica, naval harbour,

127
Thirty Tyrants, period of, 2
Tiridates, ruler of Armenia, 6
Tithe lands, i
Trinitarians vs. Arians, 221,

223—226
Twelfth Legion, soldiers of,

martyrs, 156
Tyre, Council of, trial of

Athanasius, 293-295

Urbanus, Governor of Pales-
tine, 136

Valens, appointed Csesar,
122; recalls recluses from
the desert, 348

Valentinianus, the Curator,
161

Valeria, daughter of Diocle-
tian, a Christian, 13 ; widow
of Galerius, 118; Maximin
proposes marriage to, 118;
exiled, 119

Valerian, Emperor, taken
prisoner, 2 ; persecution of
the Christians, 13

Victor of Russicas, 161

Zosimus on Constantine 's
character, 303

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