The last great imperial persecution of the Christians under Diocletian
and Galerius, which was aimed at the entire uprooting of the new
religion, ended with the edict of toleration of 311 and the tragical
ruin of the persecutors. Galerius died soon after of a disgusting and
terrible disease (_morbus pedicularis_), described with great minuteness
by Eusebius and Lactantius. 'His body,' says Gibbon, 'swelled by an
intemperate course of life to an unwieldy corpulence, was covered with
ulcers and devoured by innumerable swarms of those insects which have
given their name to a most loathsome disease.' Diocletian had withdrawn
from the throne in 305, and in 313 put an end to his imbittered life by
suicide. In his retirement he found more pleasure in raising cabbage
than he had found in ruling the empire; a confession we may readily
believe. (President Lincoln, of the United States, during the dark days
of the civil war, in December, 1862, declared that he would gladly
exchange his position with any common soldier in the tented field.)
Maximin, who kept up the persecution in the East, even after the
toleration edict, as long as he could, died likewise a violent death by
poison, in 313. In this tragical end of their last three imperial
persecutors the Christians saw a palpable judgment of God. The edict of
toleration was an involuntary and irresistible concession of the
incurable impotence of heathenism and the indestructible power of
Christianity. It left but a step to the downfall of the one and the
supremacy of the other in the empire of the Cæsars.
This great epoch is marked by the reign of Constantine I. He understood
the signs of the time, and acted accordingly. He was the man for the
times, as the times were prepared for him by that Providence which
controls both and fits them for each other. He placed himself at the
head of true progress, while his nephew, Julian the Apostate, opposed
it, and was left behind. He was the chief instrument for raising the
church from the low estate of oppression and persecution to
well-deserved honor and power. For this service a thankful posterity has
given him the surname of the Great, to which he was entitled, though not
by his moral character, yet doubtless by his military and administrative
ability, his judicious policy, his appreciation and protection of
Christianity, and the far-reaching consequences of his reign. His
greatness was not indeed of the first, but of the second order, and is
to be measured more by what he _did_ than by what he _was_. To the Greek
Church, which honors him even as a canonized saint, he has the same
significance as Charlemagne to the Latin.
Constantine, the first Christian Cæsar, the founder of Constantinople
and the Byzantine empire, and one of the most gifted, energetic, and
successful of the Roman emperors, was the first representative of the
imposing idea of a Christian theocracy, or of that system of policy
which assumes all subjects to be Christians, connects civil and
religious rights, and regards church and state as the two arms of one
and the same divine government on earth. This was more fully developed
by his successors, it animated the whole Middle Age, and is yet working
under various forms in these latest times; though it has never been
fully realized, whether in the Byzantine, the German, or the Russian
empire, the Roman church-state, the Calvinistic republic of Geneva, or
the early Puritanic colonies of New England. At the same time, however,
Constantine stands also as the type of an undiscriminating and harmful
conjunction of Christianity with politics, of the holy symbol of peace
with the horrors of war, of the spiritual interests of the kingdom of
heaven with the earthly interests of the state.
In judging of this remarkable man and his reign, we must by all means
keep to the great historical principle, that all representative
characters act consciously or unconsciously as the free and responsible
organs of the spirit of their age, which moulds them first before they
can mould it in turn, and that the spirit of the age itself, whether
good or bad or mixed, is but an instrument in the hands of Divine
Providence, which rules and overrules all the actions and motives of
men.
Through a history of three centuries Christianity had already overcome
the world, and thus rendered such an outward revolution, as has attached
itself to the name of this prince, both possible and unavoidable. It
were extremely superficial to refer so thorough and momentous a change
to the personal motives of an individual, be they motives of policy, of
piety, or of superstition. But unquestionably every age produces and
shapes its own organs, as its own purposes require. So in the case of
Constantine. He was distinguished by that genuine political wisdom,
which, putting itself at the head of the age, clearly saw that idolatry
had outlived itself in the Roman empire, and that Christianity alone
could breathe new vigor into it and furnish its moral support.
Especially on the point of the external catholic unity, his monarchical
politics accorded with the hierarchical episcopacy of the church. Hence
from the year 313 he placed himself in close connection with the
bishops, made peace and harmony his first object in the Donatist and
Arian controversies, and gave the predicate 'catholic' to the church in
all official documents. And as his predecessors were supreme pontiffs of
the heathen religion of the empire, so he desired to be looked upon as a
sort of bishop, as universal bishop of the eternal affairs of the
church. All this by no means from mere self-interest, but for the good
of the empire, which, now shaken to its foundations and threatened by
barbarians on every side, could only by some new bond of unity be
consolidated and upheld until at least the seeds of Christianity and
civilization should be planted among the barbarians themselves, the
representatives of the future. His personal policy thus coincided with
the interests of the state. Christianity appeared to him, as it proved
in fact, the only efficient power for a political reformation of the
empire, from which the ancient spirit of Rome was fast departing, while
internal civil and religious dissensions and the outward pressure of the
barbarians threatened a gradual dissolution of society.
But with the political he united also a religious motive, not clear and
deep, indeed, yet honest, and strongly infused with the superstitious
disposition to judge of a religion by its outward success, and to
ascribe a magical virtue to signs and ceremonies. His whole family was
swayed by religious sentiment, which manifested itself in very different
forms, in the devout pilgrimages of his Helena, the fanatical Arianism
of Constantia and Constantius, and the fanatical paganism of Julian.
Constantine adopted Christianity first as a superstition, and put it by
the side of his heathen superstition, till finally in his conviction the
Christian vanquished the pagan, though without itself developing into a
pure and enlightened faith.
At first Constantine, like his father, in the spirit of the Neo-Platonic
syncretism of dying heathendom, reverenced all the gods as mysterious
powers; especially Apollo, the god of the sun, to whom in the year 308
he presented munificent gifts. Nay, so late as the year 321 he enjoined
regular consultation of the soothsayers in public misfortunes, according
to ancient heathen usage; even later, he placed his new residence,
Byzantium, under the protection of the God of the Martyrs and the
heathen goddess of Fortune; and down to the end of his life he retained
the title and the dignity of a _Pontifex Maximus_, or high priest of the
heathen hierarchy. His coins bore on the one side the letters of the
name of Christ, on the other the figure of the sun-god, and the
inscription _Sol invictus_. Of course these inconsistencies may be
referred also to policy and accommodation to the toleration edict of
313. Nor is it difficult to adduce parallels of persons who in passing
from Judaism to Christianity, or from Romanism to Protestantism, have
honestly so wavered between their old and their new position, that they
might be claimed by both. With his every victory over his pagan rivals,
Galerius, Maxentius, and Licinius, his personal leaning to Christianity
and his confidence in the magic power of the sign of the cross
increased; yet he did not formally renounce heathenism, and did not
receive baptism until, in 337, he was laid upon the bed of death.
He had an imposing and winning person, and was compared by flatterers
with Apollo. He was tall, broad shouldered, handsome, and of a
remarkably vigorous and healthy constitution, but given to excessive
vanity in his dress and outward demeanor, always wearing an oriental
diadem, a helmet studded with jewels, and a purple mantle of silk richly
embroidered with pearls and flowers worked in gold. His mind was not
highly cultivated, but naturally clear, strong, and shrewd, and seldom
thrown off its guard. He is said to have combined a cynical contempt of
mankind with an inordinate love of praise. He possessed a good knowledge
of human nature and administrative energy and tact.
His moral character was not without noble traits, among which a chastity
rare for the time, and a liberality and beneficence bordering on
wastefulness were prominent. Many of his laws and regulations breathed
the spirit of Christian justice and humanity, promoted the elevation of
the female sex, improved the condition of slaves and of unfortunates,
and gave free play to the efficiency of the church throughout the whole
empire. Altogether he was one of the best, the most fortunate, and the
most influential of the Roman emperors, Christian and pagan.
Yet he had great faults. He was far from being so pure and so venerable
as Eusebius, blinded by his favor to the church, depicts him, in his
bombastic and almost dishonestly eulogistic biography, with the evident
intention of setting him up as a model for all future Christian princes.
It must, with all regret, be conceded, that his progress in the
knowledge of Christianity was not a progress in the practice of its
virtues. His love of display and his prodigality, his suspiciousness and
his despotism, increased with his power.
The very brightest period of his reign is stained with gross crimes,
which even the spirit of the age and the policy of an absolute monarch
cannot excuse. After having reached, upon the bloody path of war, the
goal of his ambition, the sole possession of the empire, yea, in the
very year in which he summoned the great council of Nicæa, he ordered
the execution of his conquered rival and brother-in-law, Licinius, in
breach of a solemn promise of mercy (324). Not satisfied with this, he
caused soon afterward, from political suspicion, the death of the young
Licinius, his nephew, a boy of hardly eleven years. But the worst of all
is the murder of his eldest son, Crispus, in 326, who had incurred
suspicion of political conspiracy, and of adulterous and incestuous
purposes toward his stepmother Fausta, but is generally regarded as
innocent. This domestic and political tragedy emerged from a vortex of
mutual suspicion and rivalry, and calls to mind the conduct of Philip
II. toward Don Carlos, of Peter the Great toward his son Alexis, and of
Soliman the Great toward his son Mustapha. Later authors assert, though
gratuitously, that the emperor, like David, bitterly repented of this
sin. He has been frequently charged besides, though it would seem
altogether unjustly, with the death of his second wife Fausta (326?),
who, after twenty years of happy wedlock, is said to have been convicted
of slandering her stepson Crispus, and of adultery with a slave or one
of the imperial guards, and then to have been suffocated in the vapor of
an overheated bath. But the accounts of the cause and manner of her
death are so late and discordant as to make Constantine's part in it at
least very doubtful.
At all events Christianity did not produce in Constantine a thorough
moral transformation. He was concerned more to advance the outward
social position of the Christian religion, than to further its inward
mission. He was praised and censured in turn by the Christians and
pagans, the orthodox and the Arians, as they successively experienced
his favor or dislike. He bears some resemblance to Peter the Great, both
in his public acts and his private character, by combining great virtues
and merits with monstrous crimes, and he probably died with the same
consolation as Peter, whose last words were: 'I trust that in respect of
the good I have striven to do my people (the church), God will pardon my
sins.' It is quite characteristic of his piety that he turned the sacred
nails of the Saviour's cross, which Helena brought from Jerusalem, the
one into the bit of his war horse, the other into an ornament of his
helmet. Not a decided, pure, and consistent character, he stands on the
line of transition between two ages and two religions; and his life
bears plain marks of both. When at last on his deathbed he submitted to
baptism, with the remark, 'Now let us cast away all _duplicity_,' he
honestly admitted the conflict of two antagonistic principles which
swayed his private character and public life.
From these general remarks we turn to the leading features of
Constantine's life and reign, so far as they bear upon the history of
the church. We shall consider in order his youth and training, the
vision of the cross, the edict of toleration, his legislation in favor
of Christianity, his baptism and death.
Constantine, son of the co-emperor Constantius Chlorus, who reigned over
Gaul, Spain, and Britain till his death in 306, was born probably in the
year 272, either in Britain or at Naissus (now called Nissa), a town of
Dardania, in Illyricum. His mother was Helena, daughter of an innkeeper,
the first wife of Constantius, afterward divorced, when Constantius, for
political reasons, married a daughter of Maximian. She is described by
Christian writers as a discreet and devout woman, and has been honored
with a place in the catalogue of saints. Her name is identified with the
discovery of the cross and the pious superstitions of the holy places.
She lived to a very advanced age, and died in the year 326 or 327, in or
near the city of Rome. Rising by her beauty and good fortune from
obscurity to the splendor of the court, then meeting the fate of
Josephine, but restored to imperial dignity by her son, and ending as a
saint of the Catholic church: Helena would form an interesting subject
for a historical novel illustrating the leading events of the Nicene age
and the triumph of Christianity in the Roman empire.
Constantine first distinguished himself in the service of Diocletian in
the Egyptian and Persian wars; went afterward to Gaul and Britain, and
in the Prætorium at York was proclaimed emperor by his dying father and
by the Roman troops. His father before him held a favorable opinion of
the Christians as peaceable and honorable citizens, and protected them
in the West during the Diocletian persecution in the East. This
respectful, tolerant regard descended to Constantine, and the good
effects of it, compared with the evil results of the opposite course of
his antagonist Galerius, could but encourage him to pursue it. He
reasoned, as Eusebius reports from his own mouth, in the following
manner: 'My father revered the Christian God, and uniformly prospered,
while the emperors who worshipped the heathen gods, died a miserable
death; therefore, that I may enjoy a happy life and reign, I will
imitate the example of my father and join myself to the cause of the
Christians, who are growing daily, while the heathen are diminishing.'
This low utilitarian consideration weighed heavily in the mind of an
ambitious captain, who looked forward to the highest seat of power
within the gift of his age. Whether his mother, whom he always revered,
and who made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in her eightieth year (A. D.
325), planted the germ of the Christian faith in her son, as Theodoret
supposes, or herself became a Christian through his influence, as
Eusebius asserts, must remain undecided. According to the heathen
Zosimus, whose statement is unquestionably false and malicious, an
Egyptian, who came out of Spain (probably the bishop Hosius of Cordova,
a native of Egypt, is intended), persuaded him, after the murder of
Crispus (which did not occur before 326), that by converting to
Christianity he might obtain forgiveness of his sins.
The first public evidence of a positive leaning toward the Christian
religion he gave in his contest with the pagan Maxentius, who had
usurped the government of Italy and Africa, and is universally
represented as a cruel, dissolute tyrant, hated by heathens and
Christians alike. Called by the Roman people to their aid, Constantine
marched from Gaul across the Alps with an army of ninety-eight thousand
soldiers of every nationality, and defeated Maxentius in three battles;
the last in October, 312, at the Milvian bridge, near Rome, where
Maxentius found a disgraceful death in the waters of the Tiber.
Here belongs the familiar story of the miraculous cross. The precise day
and place cannot be fixed, but the event must have occurred shortly
before the final victory over Maxentius in the neighborhood of Rome. As
this vision is one of the most noted miracles in church history, and has
a representative significance, it deserves a closer examination. It
marks for us on the one hand the victory of Christianity over paganism
in the Roman empire, and on the other the ominous admixture of foreign,
political, and military interests with it. We need not be surprised that
in the Nicene age so great a revolution and transition should have been
clothed with a supernatural character.
The occurrence is variously described, and is not without serious
difficulties. Lactantius, the earliest witness, some three years after
the battle, speaks only of a dream by night, in which the emperor was
directed (it is not stated by whom, whether by Christ, or by an angel)
to stamp on the shields of his soldiers 'the heavenly sign of God,' that
is, the cross with the name of Christ, and thus to go forth against his
enemy. Eusebius, on the contrary, gives a more minute account, on the
authority of a subsequent private communication of the aged Constantine
himself under oath--not, however, till the year 338, a year after the
death of the emperor, his only witness, and twenty-six years after the
event. On his march from Gaul to Italy (the spot and date are not
specified), the emperor, while earnestly praying to the true God for
light and help at this critical time, saw, together with his army, in
clear daylight toward evening, a shining cross in the heavens above the
sun, with the inscription: '_By this conquer;_' and in the following
night Christ himself appeared to him while he slept, and directed him to
have a standard prepared in the form of this sign of the cross, and with
that to proceed against Maxentius and all other enemies. This account of
Eusebius, or rather of Constantine himself, adds to the night dream of
Lactantius the preceding vision of the day, and the direction concerning
the standard, while Lactantius speaks of the inscription of the initial
letters of Christ's name on the shields of the soldiers. According to
Rufinus, a later historian, who elsewhere depends entirely on Eusebius,
and can therefore not be regarded as a proper witness in the case, the
sign of the cross appeared to Constantine in a dream (which agrees with
the account of Lactantius), and upon his awaking in terror, an angel
(not Christ) exclaimed to him: '_Hoc vince._' Lactantius, Eusebius, and
Rufinus are the only Christian writers of the fourth century, who
mention the apparition. But we have besides one or two heathen
testimonies, which, though vague and obscure, still serve to strengthen
the evidence in favor of some actual occurrence. The contemporaneous
orator Nazarius, in a panegyric upon the emperor, pronounced March 1,
321, apparently at Rome, speaks of an army of divine warriors and a
divine assistance which Constantine received in the engagement with
Maxentius; but he converts it to the service of heathenism by recurring
to old prodigies, such as the appearance of Castor and Pollux.
This famous tradition may be explained either as a real miracle implying
a personal appearance of Christ, or as a pious fraud, or as a natural
phenomenon in the clouds and an optical illusion, or finally as a
prophetic dream.
The propriety of a miracle, parallel to the signs in heaven which
preceded the destruction of Jerusalem, might be justified by the
significance of the victory as marking a great epoch in history, namely,
the downfall of paganism and the establishment of Christianity in the
empire. But even if we waive the purely critical objections to the
Eusebian narrative, the assumed connection, in this case, of the gentle
Prince of peace with the god of battle, and the subserviency of the
sacred symbol of redemption to military ambition, is repugnant to the
genius of the gospel and to sound Christian feeling, unless we stretch
the theory of divine accommodation to the spirit of the age and the
passions and interests of individuals beyond the ordinary limits. We
should suppose, moreover, that Christ, if he had really appeared to
Constantine either in person (according to Eusebius) or through angels
(as Rufinus and Sozomen modify it), would have exhorted him to repent
and be baptized rather than to construct a military ensign for a bloody
battle. In no case can we ascribe to this occurrence, with Eusebius,
Theodoret, and older writers, the character of a sudden and genuine
conversion, as to Paul's vision of Christ on the way to Damascus; for,
on the one hand, Constantine was never hostile to Christianity, but most
probably friendly to it from his early youth, according to the example
of his father, and, on the other, he put off his baptism quite five and
twenty years, almost to the hour of his death.
The opposite hypothesis of a mere military stratagem or intentional
fraud is still more objectionable, and would compel us either to impute
to the first Christian emperor, at a venerable age, the double crime of
falsehood and perjury, or, if Eusebius invented the story, to deny to
the 'father of church history' all claim to credibility and common
respectability. Besides, it should be remembered that the older
testimony of Lactantius, or whoever was the author of the work on the
Deaths of Persecutors, is quite independent of that of Eusebius, and
derives additional force from the vague heathen rumors of the time.
Finally the _Hoc vince_, which has passed into proverbial significance
as a most appropriate motto of the invincible religion of the cross, is
too good to be traced to sheer falsehood. Some actual fact, therefore,
must be supposed to underlie the tradition, and the question only is
this, whether it was an external, viable phenomenon or an internal
experience.
The hypothesis of a natural formation of the clouds, which Constantine
by an optical illusion mistook for a supernatural sign of the cross,
besides smacking of the exploded rationalistic explanation of the New
Testament miracles, and deriving an important event from a mere
accident, leaves the figure of Christ and the Greek or Latin
inscription, '_By this sign thou shalt conquer!_' altogether
unexplained.
We are shut up, therefore, to the theory of a dream or vision, and an
experience within the mind of Constantine. This is supported by the
oldest testimony of Lactantius, as well as by the report of Rufinus and
Sozomen, and we do not hesitate to regard the Eusebian cross in the
skies as originally a part of the dream, which only subsequently assumed
the character of an outward objective apparition, either in the
imagination of Constantine or by a mistake of the memory of the
historian, but in either case without intentional fraud. That the vision
was traced to supernatural origin, especially after the happy success,
is quite natural and in perfect keeping with the prevailing ideas of the
age. Tertullian and other ante-Nicene and Nicene fathers attributed many
conversions to nocturnal dreams and visions. Constantine and his friends
referred the most important facts of his life, as the knowledge of the
approach of hostile armies, the discovery of the holy sepulchre, the
founding of Constantinople, to divine revelation through visions and
dreams. Nor are we disposed in the least to deny the connection of the
vision of the cross with the agency of Divine Providence, which
controlled this remarkable turning point of history. We may go farther
and admit a special providence, or what the old divines call a
_providentia specialissima_; but this does not necessarily imply a
violation of the order of nature or an actual miracle in the shape of an
objective personal appearance of the Saviour. We may refer to a somewhat
similar, though far less important, vision in the life of the pious
English Colonel James Gardiner. The Bible itself sanctions the general
theory of providential or prophetic dreams and nocturnal visions through
which divine revelations and admonitions are communicated to men.
The facts, therefore, may have been these: Before the battle,
Constantine, leaning already toward Christianity as probably the beat
and most hopeful of the various religions, seriously sought in prayer,
as he related to Eusebius, the assistance of the God of the Christians,
while his heathen antagonist, Maxentius, according to Zosimus, was
consulting the sibylline books and offering sacrifice to the idols.
Filled with mingled fears and hopes about the issue of the conflict, he
fell asleep, and saw in a dream the sign of the cross of Christ with a
significant inscription and promise of victory. Being already familiar
with the general use of this sign among the numerous Christians of the
empire, many of whom no doubt were in his own army, he constructed the
_labarum_,[A] afterward so called, that is, the sacred standard of the
Christian cross with the Greek monogram of Christ,[B] which he had also
put upon the shields of the soldiers. To this cross-standard, which now
took the place of the Roman eagles, he attributed the decisive victory
over the heathen Maxentius.
Accordingly, after his triumphal entrance into Rome, he had his statue
erected upon the forum with the labarum in his right hand, and the
inscription beneath: 'By this saving sign, the true token of bravery, I
have delivered your city from the yoke of the tyrant.' Three years
afterward the senate erected to him a triumphal arch of marble, which to
this day, within sight of the sublime ruins of the pagan Colosseum,
indicates at once the decay of ancient art and the downfall of
heathenism; as the neighboring arch of Titus commemorates the downfall
of Judaism and the destruction of the temple. The inscription on this
arch of Constantine, however, ascribes his victory over the hated
tyrant, not only to his master mind, but indefinitely also to the
impulse of Deity; by which a Christian would naturally understand the
true God, while a heathen, like the orator Nazarius, in his eulogy on
Constantine, might take it for the celestial guardian power of the _urbs
æterna_.
At all events the victory of Constantine over Maxentius was a military
and political victory of Christianity over heathenism; the intellectual
and moral victory having been already accomplished by the literature and
life of the church in the preceding period. The emblem of ignominy and
oppression[C] became thenceforward the badge of honor and dominion, and
was invested in the emperor's view, according to the spirit of the
church of his day, with a magic virtue. It now took the place of the
eagle and other field badges, under which the heathen Romans had
conquered the world. It was stamped on the imperial coin, and on the
standards, helmets, and shields of the soldiers. Above all military
representations of the cross the original imperial labarum shone in the
richest decorations of gold and gems; was intrusted to the truest and
bravest fifty of the body guard; filled the Christians with the spirit
of victory, and spread fear and terror among their enemies; until, under
the weak successors of Theodosius II., it fell out of use, and was
lodged as a venerable relic in the imperial palace at Constantinople.
Before this victory at Rome (which occurred October 27, 312), either in
the spring or summer of 312, Constantine, in conjunction with his
Eastern colleague, Licinius, had published an edict of religious
toleration, now not extant, but probably a step beyond the edict of the
still anti-Christian Galerius in 311, which was likewise subscribed by
Constantine and Licinius as co-regents. Soon after, in January, 313, the
two emperors issued from Milan a new edict (the third) on religion,
still extant both in Latin and Greek, in which, in the spirit of
religious eclecticism, they granted full freedom to all existing forms
of worship, with special reference to the Christian. This religion the
edict not only recognized in its existing limits, but also--what neither
the first nor perhaps the second edict had done--allowed every heathen
subject to adopt it with impunity. At the same time the church buildings
and property confiscated in the Diocletian persecution were ordered to
be restored, and private property-owners to be indemnified from the
imperial treasury.
In this notable edict, however, we should look in vain for the modern
Protestant and Anglo-American theory of religious liberty as one of the
universal and inalienable rights of man. Sundry voices, it is true, in
the Christian church itself, at that time and even before, declared
firmly against all compulsion in religion. But the spirit of the Roman
empire was too absolutistic to abandon the prerogative of a supervision
of public worship. The Constantinian toleration was a temporary measure
of state policy, which, as indeed the edict expressly states the motive,
promised the greatest security to the public peace and the protection of
all divine and heavenly powers, for emperor and empire. It was, as the
result teaches, but the necessary transition step to a new order of
things. It opened the door to the elevation of Christianity, and
specifically of Catholic hierarchical Christianity, with its
exclusiveness toward heretical and schismatic sects, to be the religion
of the state. For, once put on an equal footing with heathenism, it must
soon, in spite of numerical minority, bear away the victory from a
religion which had already inwardly outlived itself.
From this time Constantine decidedly favored the church, though without
persecuting or forbidding the pagan religions. He always mentions the
Christian church with reverence in his imperial edicts, and uniformly
applies to it, as we have already observed, the predicate of catholic.
For only as a catholic, thoroughly organized, firmly compacted, and
conservative institution did it meet his rigid monarchical interest, and
afford the splendid state and court dress he wished for his empire. So
early as the year 313 we find the bishop Hosius of Cordova among his
counsellors, and heathen writers ascribe to the bishop even a magical
influence over the emperor. Lactantius, also, and Eusebius of Cæsarea
belonged to his confidential circle. He exempted the Christian clergy
from military and municipal duty (March, 313); abolished various customs
and ordinances offensive to the Christians (315); facilitated the
emancipation of Christian slaves (before 316); legalized bequests to
catholic churches (321); enjoined the civil observance of Sunday, though
not as _dies Domini_, but as _dies Solis_, in conformity to his worship
of Apollo, and in company with an ordinance for the regular consulting
of the haruspex (321); contributed liberally to the building of churches
and the support of the clergy; erased the heathen symbols of Jupiter and
Apollo, Mars and Hercules from the imperial coins (323); and gave his
sons a Christian education. This mighty example was followed, as might
be expected, by a general transition of those subjects who were more
influenced in their conduct by outward circumstances than by inward
conviction and principle. The story, that in one year (324) twelve
thousand men, with women and children in proportion, were baptized in
Rome, and that the emperor had promised to each convert a white garment
and twenty pieces of gold, is at least in accordance with the spirit of
that reign, though the fact itself, in all probability, is greatly
exaggerated.
Constantine came out with still greater decision, when, by his victory
over his Eastern colleague and brother-in-law, Licinius, he became sole
head of the whole Roman empire. To strengthen his position, Licinius had
gradually placed himself at the head of the heathen party, still very
numerous, and had vexed the Christians first with wanton ridicule, then
with exclusion from civil and military office, with banishment, and in
some instances perhaps even with bloody persecution. This gave the
political strife for the monarchy between himself and Constantine the
character also of a war of religions; and the defeat of Licinius in the
battle of Adrianople, in July, 321, and at Chalcedon, in September, was
a new triumph of the standard of the cross over the sacrifices of the
gods; save that Constantine dishonored himself and his cause by the
execution of Licinius and his son.
The emperor now issued a general exhortation to his subjects to embrace
the Christian religion, still leaving them, however, to their own free
conviction. In the year 325, as patron of the church, he summoned the
council of Nice, and himself attended it; banished the Arians, though he
afterward recalled them; and, in his monarchical spirit of uniformity,
showed great zeal for the settlement of all theological disputes, while
he was blind to their deep significance. He first introduced the
practice of subscription to the articles of a written creed and of the
infliction of civil punishments for non-conformity. In the years
325-329, in connection with his mother, Helena, he erected magnificent
churches on the sacred spots in Jerusalem.
As heathenism had still the preponderance in Rome, where it was hallowed
by its great traditions, Constantine, by divine command as he supposed,
in the year 330, transferred the seat of his government to Byzantium,
and thus fixed the policy, already initiated by Domitian, or
orientalizing and dividing the empire. In the selection of the
unrivalled locality he showed more taste and genius than the founders of
Madrid, Vienna, Berlin, St. Petersburg, or Washington. With incredible
rapidity, and by all the means within reach of an absolute monarch, he
turned this nobly situated town, connecting two seas and two continents,
into a splendid residence and a new Christian Rome, 'for which now,' as
Gregory of Nazianzen expresses it, 'sea and land emulate each other, to
load it with their treasures, and crown it queen of cities.' Here,
instead of idol temples and altars, churches and crucifixes rose; though
among them the statues of patron deities from all over Greece, mutilated
by all sorts of tasteless adaptations, were also gathered in the new
metropolis. The main hall in the palace was adorned with representations
of the crucifixion and other Biblical scenes. The gladiatorial shows, so
popular in Rome, were forbidden here, though theatres, amphitheatres,
and hippodromes kept their place. It could nowhere be mistaken, that the
new imperial residence was, as to all outward appearance, a Christian
city. The smoke of heathen sacrifices never rose from the seven hills of
New Rome, except during the short reign of Julian the Apostate. It
became the residence of a bishop, who not only claimed the authority of
the apostolic see of neighboring Ephesus, but soon outshone the
patriarchate of Alexandria, and rivalled for centuries the papal power
in ancient Rome.
The emperor diligently attended divine worship, and is portrayed upon
medals in the posture of prayer. He kept the Easter vigils with great
devotion. He would stand during the longest sermons of his bishops, who
always surrounded him, and unfortunately flattered him only too much.
And he even himself composed and delivered discourses to his court, in
the Latin language, from which they were translated into Greek by
interpreters appointed for the purpose. General invitations were issued,
and the citizens flocked in great crowds to the palace to hear the
imperial preacher, who would in vain try to prevent their loud applause
by pointing to heaven as the source of his wisdom. He dwelt mainly on
the truth of Christianity, the folly of idolatry, the unity and
providence of God, the coming of Christ, and the judgment. At times he
would severely rebuke the avarice and rapacity of his courtiers, who
would loudly applaud him with their mouths and belie his exhortations by
their works. One of these productions is still extant, in which he
recommends Christianity in a characteristic strain, and in proof of its
divine origin cites especially the fulfilment of prophecy, including the
sibylline books and the Fourth Eclogue of Virgil, with the contrast
between his own happy and brilliant reign and the tragical fate of his
persecuting predecessors and colleagues.
Nevertheless he continued in his later years true, upon the whole, to
the toleration principles of the edict of 313, protected the pagan
priests and temples in their privileges, and wisely abstained from all
violent measures against heathenism, in the persuasion that it would in
time die out. He retained many heathens at court and in public office,
although he loved to promote Christians to honorable positions. In
several cases, however, he prohibited idolatry, where it sanctioned
scandalous immorality, as in the obscene worship of Venus in Phenicia;
or in places which were especially sacred to the Christians, as the
sepulchre of Christ and the grove of Mamre; and he caused a number of
deserted temples and images to be destroyed or turned into Christian
churches. Eusebius relates several such instances with evident
approbation, and praises also his later edicts against various heretics
and schismatics, but without mentioning the Arians. In his later years
he seems, indeed, to have issued a general prohibition of idolatrous
sacrifice; Eusebius speaks of it, and his sons in 341 refer to an edict
to that effect; but the repetition of it by his successors proves that,
if issued, it was not carried into general execution under his reign.
With this shrewd, cautious, and moderate policy of Constantine, which
contrasts well with the violent fanaticism of his sons, accords the
postponement of his own baptism to his last sickness. For this he had
the further motives of a superstitious desire, which he himself
expresses, to be baptized in the Jordan, whose waters had been
sanctified by the Saviour's baptism, and no doubt also a fear that he
might by relapse forfeit the sacramental remission of sins. He wished to
secure all the benefit of baptism as a complete expiation of past sins,
with as little risk as possible, and thus to make the best of both
worlds. Deathbed baptisms then were to half Christians of that age what
deathbed conversions and deathbed communions are now. But he presumed to
preach the gospel, he called himself the bishop of bishops, he convened
the first general council, and made Christianity the religion of the
empire, long before his baptism! Strange as this inconsistency appears
to us, what shall we think of the court bishops who, from false
prudence, relaxed in his favor the otherwise strict discipline of the
church, and admitted him, at least tacitly, to the enjoyment of nearly
all the privileges of believers, before he had taken upon himself even a
single obligation of a catechumen?
When, after a life of almost uninterrupted health, he felt the approach
of death, he was received into the number of catechumens by laying on of
hands, and then formally admitted by baptism into the full communion of
the church in the year 337, the sixty-fifth year of his age, by the
Arian (or properly Semi-Arian) bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia, whom he had
shortly before recalled from exile together with Arius! His dying
testimony then was, as to form, in favor of heretical rather than
orthodox Christianity, but merely from accident, not from intention. He
meant the Christian as against the heathen religion, and whatever of
Arianism may have polluted his baptism, was for the Greek Church fully
neutralized by the orthodox canonization. After the solemn ceremony, he
promised to live thenceforth worthily of a disciple of Jesus; refused to
wear again the imperial mantle of cunningly woven silk, richly
ornamented with gold; retained the white baptismal robe; and died a few
days after, on Pentecost, May 32, 337, trusting in the mercy of God, and
leaving a long, a fortunate, and a brilliant reign, such as none but
Augustus, of all his predecessors, had enjoyed. 'So passed away the
first Christian emperor, the first defender of the faith, the first
imperial patron of the papal see, and of the whole Eastern Church, the
first founder of the holy places, pagan and Christian, orthodox and
heretical, liberal and fanatical, not to be imitated or admired, but
much to be remembered, and deeply to be studied.'
His remains were removed in a golden coffin by a procession of
distinguished civilians and the whole army, from Nicomedia to
Constantinople, and deposited, with the highest Christian honors, in the
Church of the Apostles, while the Roman senate, after its ancient
custom, proudly ignoring the great religious revolution of the age,
enrolled him among the gods of the heathen Olympus. Soon after his
death, Eusebius set him above the greatest princes of all times; from
the fifth century he began to be recognized in the East as a saint; and
the Greek and Russian Church to this day celebrates his memory under the
extravagant title of _Isapostolos_, the 'Equal of the Apostles.' The
Latin Church, on the contrary, with truer tact, has never placed him
among the saints, but has been content with naming him 'the Great,' in
just and grateful remembrance of his services to the cause of
Christianity and civilization.
Constantine marks the beginning of the downfall of ancient and classical
paganism. Still it dragged out a sickly old age for about two hundred
years longer, until at last it died of incurable consumption, without
the hope of a resurrection.
The final dissolution of heathenism in the Eastern empire may be dated
from the middle of the fifth century. In the year 435, Theodosius II.
commanded the temples to be destroyed or turned into churches. There
still appear some heathens in civil office and at court so late as the
beginning of the reign of Justinian I. (527-567). But this despotic
emperor prohibited heathenism as a form of worship in the empire on pain
of death, and in 529 abolished the last intellectual seminary of it, the
philosophical school of Athens, which had stood nine hundred years. At
that time just seven philosophers were teaching in that school, the
shades of the ancient seven sages of Greece--a striking play of history,
like the name of the last West-Roman emperor, Romulus Augustus, or, in
contemptuous diminutive, Augustulus, combining the names of the founder
of the city and the founder of the empire.
In the West, heathenism maintained itself until near the middle of the
sixth century, and even later, partly as a private religious conviction
among many cultivated and aristocratic families in Rome, partly even in
the full form of worship in the remote provinces and on the mountains of
Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, and partly in heathen customs and popular
usages, like the gladiatorial shows still extant in Rome in 404, and the
wanton Lupercalia, a sort of heathen carnival, the feast of Lupercus,
the god of herds, still celebrated with all its excesses in February,
495. But, in general, it may be said that the Græco-Roman heathenism, as
a system of worship, was buried under the ruins of the Western empire,
which sank under the storms of the great migration. It is remarkable
that the northern barbarians labored with the same zeal in the
destruction of idolatry as in the destruction of the empire, and really
promoted the victory of the Christian religion. The Gothic king Alaric,
on entering Rome, expressly ordered that the churches of the apostles
Peter and Paul should be spared, as inviolable sanctuaries; and he
showed a humanity, which Augustin justly attributes to the influence of
Christianity (even perverted Arian Christianity) on these barbarous
people. The Christian name, he says, which the heathens blaspheme, has
effected not the destruction, but the salvation of the city. Odoacer,
who put an end to the Western Roman empire in 476, was incited to his
expedition into Italy by St. Severin, and, though himself an Arian,
showed great regard to the catholic bishops. The same is true of his
conqueror and successor, Theodoric the Ostrogoth, who was recognized by
the East-Roman emperor Anastasius as king of Italy (A.D. 500), and was
likewise an Arian. Thus between the barbarians and the Romans, as
between the Romans and the Greeks, and in a measure also the Jews, the
conquered gave laws to the conquerors. Christianity triumphed over both.
This is the end of Græco-Roman heathenism, with its power, wisdom, and
beauty. It fell a victim to a slow but steady process of incurable
consumption. Its downfall is a sublime tragedy which, with all our
abhorrence of idolatry, we cannot witness without a certain sadness. At
the first appearance of Christianity it comprised all the wisdom,
literature, art, and political power of the civilized world, and led all
into the field against the weaponless religion of the crucified
Nazarene. After a conflict of four or five centuries it lay prostrate in
the dust without hope of resurrection. With the outward protection of
the state, it lost all power, and had not even the courage of martyrdom;
while the Christian church showed countless hosts of confessors and
blood-witnesses, and Judaism lives to-day in spite of all persecution.
The expectation that Christianity would fall about the year 398, after
an existence of three hundred and sixty-five years, turned out in the
fulfilment to relate to heathenism itself.
The last glimmer of life in the old religion was its pitiable prayer
for toleration and its lamentation over the ruin of the empire. Its best
elements took refuge in the church, and became converted, or at least
took Christian names. Now the gods were dethroned, oracles and prodigies
ceased, sibylline books were burned, temples were destroyed, or
transformed into churches, or still stand as memorials of the victory of
Christianity.
But although ancient Greece and Rome have fallen forever, the spirit of
Græco-Roman paganism is not extinct. It still lives in the natural heart
of man, which at this day as much as ever needs regeneration by the
spirit of God. It lives also in many idolatrous and superstitious usages
of the Greek and Roman Churches, against which the pure spirit of
Christianity has instinctively protested from the beginning, and will
protest, till all remains of gross and refined idolatry shall be
outwardly as well as inwardly overcome, and baptized and sanctified not
only with water, but also with the spirit and fire of the gospel.
Finally, the better genius of ancient Greece and Rome still lives in the
immortal productions of their poets, philosophers, historians, and
orators--yet no longer an enemy, but a friend and servant of Christ.
What is truly great and noble and beautiful can never perish. The
classic literature had prepared the way for the gospel, in the sphere of
natural culture, and was to be turned thenceforth into a weapon for its
defence. It passed, like the Old Testament, as a rightful inheritance,
into the possession of the Christian church, which saved those precious
works of genius through the ravages of the migration of nations and the
darkness of the Middle Ages, and used them as material in the rearing of
the temple of modern civilization. The word of the great apostle of the
Gentiles was here fulfilled: 'All things are yours.' The ancient
classics, delivered from the dæmoniacal possession of idolatry, have
come into the service of the only true and living God, once 'unknown' to
them, but now everywhere revealed, and are thus enabled to fulfil their
true mission as the preparatory tutors of youth for Christian learning
and culture. This is the noblest, the most worthy, and most complete
victory of Christianity, transforming the enemy into friend and ally.