Constantine at the critical moment on behalf of the test (see below, and Z/. Eus. p. 75); the word was commended to the Fathers by Constantine, but Constantine was ‘prompted’ by Hosius (Harnack, Dogmg. ii. 226); odros riv év Nexaia miorw e&ébero (tnfr. p. 285, § 42). Alexander (the Origenist) had been prepared for this by Hosius beforehand (Soc. iii. 7; Philost. i. 7; cf. Zahn Jarcell. p. 23, and Harnack’s important note, p. 229). Least of all was Athanasius the author of the dpootciv; his whole attitude toward the famous test (zz/fr. p. 303) is that of loyal acceptance and assimilation rather than of native inward affinity. ‘He was moulded by the Nicene Creed, did not mould it himself’ (Loofs, p. 134). The theological keynote of the council was struck by a small minority; Eustathius, Marcellus, perhaps Macarius, and the Westerns, above all Hosius; the numbers were doubtless contributed by the Egyptian bishops who had condemned Arius in 321. The signatures, which seem partly incorrect, preserve a list of about 20. The party then which rallied round Alexander in formal opposition to the Arians may be put down at over thirty. ‘The men who best understood Arianism were most decided on the necessity of its formal condemnation.’ (Gwatkin.) To this compact and determined group the result of the council was due, and in their struggle they owed much—how much it is hard to determine— to the energy and eloquence of the deacon Athanasius, who had accompanied his bishop to the council as an indispensable companion (énfr. p. 103; Soz. i. 17 fiz.). (3) Between the con- vinced Arians and their reasoned opponents lay the great mass of the bishops, 200 and more, nearly all from Syria and Asia Minor, who wished for nothing more than that they might hand on to those who came after them the faith they had received at baptism, and had learned from their predecessors. These were the ‘conservatives 3,’ or middle party, composed of all those who, for whatever reason, while untainted with Arianism, yet either failed to feel its urgent danger to the Church, or else to hold steadily in view the necessity of an adequate test if it was to be banished. Simple shepherds like Spyridion of Cyprus; men of the world who were more interested in their /de//7 than in the magnitude of the doctrinal issue; theologians, a numerous class, ‘who on the basis of half-understood Origenist ideas were prepared to recognise in Christ only the Mediator appointed (no doubt before all ages) between God and the World’ (Zahn Marc. p. 30); men who in the best of faith yet failed from lack of intellectual clearsightedness to grasp the question for themselves; a few, possibly, who were inclined to think that Arius was hardly used and might be right after all; such were the main elements which made up the mass of the council, and upon whose indefiniteness, sympathy, or unwillingness to impose any effective test, the Arian party based their hopes at any rate of toleration. Spokesman and leader of the middle party was the most learned Churchman of the age, Eusebius of Czsarea. A devoted admirer of Origen, but independent of the school of Lucian, he had, during the early stages of the controversy, thrown his weight on the side of toleration for Arius. He had himself used compromising language, and in his letter to the Cesarean Church (nfra, p. 76 sg.) does so again. But equally strong language can be cited from him on the other side, and belonging as he does properly to the pre-Nicene age, it is highly invidious to make the most of his Arianising passages, and, ignoring or explaining away those on the other side, and depreciating his splendid and lasting services to Christian learning, to class him summarily with his namesake of Nicomedia‘. (See Prolegg. to vol. 1 of this series, and above all the article in D.C.B.) The fact however remains, that Eusebius gave something more than moral support to the Arians. He was ‘neither a great man nor a clear thinker’ (Gwatkin); his own theology was hazy and involved; as an Origenist, his main dread was of Monarchianism, and his policy in the council was to stave off at least such a condemna- tion of Arianism as should open the door to ‘confounding the Persons.’ Eusebius apparently represents, therefore, the ‘left wing,’ or the last mentioned, of the ‘conservative’ elements in the council (supra, and Gwatkin, p. 38); but his learning, age, position, and the ascendency of Origenist Theology in the East, marked him out as the leader of the whole. But the ‘conservatism’ of the great mass of bishops rejected Arianism more promptly than had been expected by its adherents or patrons. The real work of the council did not begin at once. The way was blocked by innumerable applications to the Christian Emperor from bishops and clergy, mainly for the redress of personal grievances. Commonplace men often fail to see the proportion of things, and to rise to the magnitude of the events in which they play their 3 A term first brought into currency in this connection by | here as in other instances, failed to enlist the sympathy of the Mr, Gwatkin (p. 38, note), and since adopted by many writers | conservative rank and file. including Harnack; _in spite of the obvious objection to the 4 The identity of name has certainly done Eusebius no good importations of political terms into the grave questions of this | with posterity. But no one with a spark of generosity can fail period, the term is too useful to be surrendered, and the ‘con- | to be moved by the appeal of Socrates (ii. 21) for common fairness servatives’ of the Post-Nicene reaction were in fact too often | toward the dead. political in their methods and spirit. The ¢72y conservative men, PROCEEDINGS AT NICAA. xix part. At last Constantine appointed a day for the formal and final reception of all personal complaints, and burnt the ‘libelli’ in the presence of the assembled fathers. He then named a day by which the bishops were to be ready for a formal decision of the matters in dispute. The way was now open for the leaders to set to work. Quasi-formal meetings were held, Arius and his supporters met the bishops, and the situation began to clear (Soz. i. 17). To their dismay (de Dec7. 3) the Arian leaders realised that they could only count on some seventeen supporters out of the entire body of bishops. They would seem to have seriously and honestly under- rated the novelty of their own teaching (cf. the letter of Arius in Thdt. i. 5), and to have come to the council with the expectation of victory over the party of Alexander. But they discovered their mistake:— *Sectamur ultro, quos opimus Fallere et effugere est triumphus.’
‘Fallere et effugere’ was in fact the problem which now confronted them. It seems to have been agreed at an early stage, perhaps it was understood from the first, that some formula of the unanimous belief of the Church must be fixed upon to make an end of controversy. The Alexandrians and ‘Conservatives’ confronted the Arians with the traditional Scriptural phrases (pp. 163, 491) which appeared to leave no doubt as to the eternal God- head of the Son. But to their surprise they were met with perfect acquiescence. Only as each test was propounded, it was observed that the suspected party whispered and gesticulated to one another, evidently hinting that each could be safely accepted, sincé it admitted of evasion. If their assent was asked to the formula ‘like to the Father in all things,’ it was given with the reservation that man as such is ‘the image and glory of God.’ The ‘ power of God’ elicited the whispered explanation that the host of Israel was spoken of as duvapis xupiov, and that even the locust and caterpillar are called the ‘ power of God.’ The ‘ eternity’ of the Son was countered by the text, ‘We that live are alway (2 Coriv. rr)!’ The fathers were baffled, and the test of éuootcror, with which the minority had been ready from the first, was being forced (p. 172) upon the majority by the evasions of the Arians. When the day for the decisive meeting arrived it was felt that the choice lay between the adoption of the word, cost what it might, and the admission of Arianism to a position of toleration and influ- ence in the Church. But then, was Arianism all that Alexander and Eustathius made it out to be? was Arianism so very intolerable, that this novel test must be imposed on the Church? The answer came (Newman 47.4 p. 252) from Eusebius of Nicomedia. Upon the assembling of the bishops for their momentous debate (as 8¢ é{nretro ris wictews 6 rpdros, Hustath.) he presented them with a statement of his belief. The previous course of events may have convinced him that half-measures would defeat their own purpose, and that a challenge to the enemy, a forlorn hope, was the only resort left to him#*. At any rate the statement was an un- ambiguous assertion of the Arian formule, and it cleared the situation at once. An angry clamour silenced the innovator, and his document was publicly torn to shreds (im der mavrov, says an eye-witness in Thdt. i. 8). Even the majority of the Anans were cowed, and the party were reduced to the inner circle of five (supra). It was now agreed on all hands that a stringent formula was needed. But Eusebius of Caesarea came forward with a last effort to stave off the inevitable. He produced a formula, not of his own devising (K6lling, pp. 208 sgg.), but consisting of the creed of his own Church with an addition intended to guard against Sabellianism (Hort, Zio Diss. pp. 56, sg. 138). The formula was unassailable on the basis of Scripture and of tradition. No one had a word to say against It, and the Emperor expressed his personal anxiety that it should be adopted, with the single improvement of the See The suggestion thus quietly made was momentous 1n Its result. We cannot Burau ime ‘prompter’ Hosius behind the Imperial recommendation: the print Ue vee < a patiently waited their time, and now their time was come: the two Eusebu had } ee result in their hands. But how and where was the necessary word to be inserte an if some change must be made in the Caesarean formula, would it not be as well 3 aa oe or two other details right? At any rate, the creed of Eusebius was carefully overhau e Nes by clause, and eventually took a form materially different from that in which # ee. rst pre- sented+’, and with affinities to the creeds of Antioch and Jerusalem as well as_ Paar All was now ready; the creed, the result of minute and careful deliberations (we do no eee ee eS ee i 0 jovov TH WaTpl, f rovteatuv ex THs OvaLaS ae eae Se eee nae. $ 8), io RN eee ce rod SO Pence uaovann at ae ee a further Gia nbcalion i y im; é ecially against Euseb. Nicom.: see his letter in d it as evidence against him; | of yevyn9évta. (specia gainst Ex: i; pabeitted oy Ee ee SS observes, his letter to | Thdt. i. 6). (3) Further explanation of ye ine te by y. cat mo ee oat pret e ns Ogvra, a glance at a favourite a ° Lis, as ms ey Be 59:; well classified by | Asterius. (4) évav@pwxyjoavra added to explain gapkwleyTa, 2 4» Hort, pp- 138, peo? ae Sal bes een Miewton so to exclude the Christology which ae ere ae oy eee Se ae “Aeyos and substitution of | the first. (5) ence of anathematisms directed aga 2 mere -eimeipel place. This struck at the theology of Euse- | leading Arian doctrines. us.
bius even more directly than at that of Arius. (2) The addition b2 PROLEGOMENA, CHAPTER IL, § 3 (1).
xe know their history, nor even how long they occupieds), lay before the council. We are told ‘the council paused.’ The evidence fails us; but it may well have been so. All the bishops who were genuinely horrified at the naked Arianism of Eusebius of Nicomedia were yet far from sharing the clearsighted definiteness of the few: they knew that the test proposed was not in Scripture, that it had a suspicious history in the Church. The history of the subsequent generation shews that the mind of Eastern Christendom was not wholly ripe for its adoption. But the fathers were reminded of the previous discussions, of the futility of the Scriptural tests, of the locust and the caterpillar, of the whisperings, the nods, winks, and evasions. Witha great revulsion of feeling the council closed its ranks and marched triumphantly to its conclusion. All signed,—all but two, Secundus and Theonas. Maris signed and Theognis, Menophantus and Patrophilus, and all the rest. Eusebius of Nicomedia signed; signed everything, even the condemnation of his own convictions and of his ‘ genuine fellow-Lucianist’ Arius; not the last time that an Anan leader was found to turn against a friend in the hour of trial. Eusebius justified his signature by a ‘ mental reservation;’ but we can sympathise with the bitter scorn of Secundus, who as he departed to his exile warned Eusebius that he would not long escape the same fate (Philost. i. 9).
The council broke up after being entertained by the Emperor at a sumptuous banquet in honour of his Vicennalia. The recalcitrant bishops with Arius and some others were sent into exile (an unhappy and fateful precedent), a fate which soon after overtook Eusebius of Nicomedia and Theognis (see the discussion in D.C.B. ii. 364 sg.). But in 329 ‘we find Eusebius once more in high favour with Constantine, discharging his episcopal functions, persuading Constantine that he and Arius held substantially the Creed of Nicza.’
The council also dealt with the Paschal question (see Vit. Const. iil. 18; so far as the question bears on Athanasius see below, p. 500), and with the Meletian schism in Egypt. The latter was the main subject of a letter (Soc. ii 9; Thdt. i. 9) to the Alexandrian Church. Meletius himself was to retain the honorary title of bishop, to remain strictly at home, and to be in lay communion for the rest of his life. The bishops and clergy of his party were to receive a pvorikwrépa xetporovia (see Bright, Motes on Canons, pp. 25 sgg.; Gore, The Church and the Ministry, ed. 1, p. 192 note), and to be allowed to discharge their office, but in the strictest subordination to the Catholic Clergy of Alexander. But on vacancies occurring, the Meletian incumbents were to succeed subject to (1) their fitness, (2) the wishes of the people, (3) the approval of the Bishop of Alexandria. ‘The terms were mild, and even the gentle nature of Alexander seems to have feared that immediate peace might have been purchased at the expense of future trouble (his successor openly blames the compromise, p. 131, and more strongly p. 137); accordingly, before carrying out the settlement he required Meletius to draw up an exact list of his clergy at the time of the council, so as to bar an indefinite multiplication of claims. Meletius, who must have been even less pleased with the settlement than his metropolitan, seems to have taken his time. At last nothing would satisfy both parties but the personal presentation of the Meletian bishops from all Egypt, and of their clergy 5 The events have been related in what seems to be their most likely order, but there is no real certainty in the matter. It is clear that there were at least two public sittings (Soz. i. 17, the language of Eus. V.C. iii. 10, is reconcileable with this) in the emperor’s presence, at the first of which the /zde72i were burned and the bishops requested to examine the question of faith. ‘This was probably on June 19. The tearing up of the creed of Eus. Nic. seems from the account of Eustathius to have come imme- diately before the final adoption of a creed. The creed of Eusebius of Czsarea, which was the basis of that finally adopted, must therefore have been propounded after the failure of his namesake. (Montfaucon and others are clearly wrong in supposing that this was the ‘blasphemy’ which was torn to pieces!) The difficulty is, where to put the dramatic scene of whisperings, nods, winks, and evasions which compelled the bishops to apply a drastic test. I think (with Kélling, &c.) that it must have preceded the pro- posal of Eusebius, upon which the 6400vcv0v was quietly insisted on by Constantine; for the latter was the only occasion (mpéaccs) of any modification in the Casarean Creed, which in itself does not correspond to the tests described iz/r. p. 163. But Mont- faucon and others, followed by Gwatkin, place the scene in ques- tion after the proposal of Eus. Czes. and the resolution to modify his creed by the insertion of a stringent test,—in fact at the ‘pause’ of the council before its final resolution. This conflicts with the clear statement of Eusebius that the éuoovcvov was the ‘thin end of the wedge’ which led to the entire recasting of his creed (see i#/r. p- 73. The idea of Kélling, p. 208, that the creed of Eusebius was drawn up by him for the occasion, and that the pa@nua of the council was ready beforehand as an alternative document, is refuted by the relation of the two documents; see Hort, pp. 138, 139). It follows, therefore, from the combined accounts of Ath., Euseb, and Eustathius (our only eye-witnesses) that (x) the fathers were practically resolved upon the ésoov¥cov before the final sitting. (2) That this resolve was clinched by the creed of Eusebius of Nicomedia. (3) That Eusebius of Caesarea made his proposal when it was too late to think of half-measures. (4) That the creed of Eusebius was modified at the Emperor's direction (which presupposes the willingness of the Council). (5) That this revision was immediately followed by the signatures and the close of the council. The work of revision, however, shews such signs of attention to detail that we are almost com- pelled to assume at least one adjournment of the final sitting. When the other business of the council was transacted, including the settlement of the Easter question, the Meletian schism, and the Canons, it is impossible to say. Kélling swo jure puts them at the first public session. The question must be left open, as must that of the presidency of the council. The conduct of the pro- ceedings was evidently in the hands of Constantine, so that the question of presidency reduces itself to that of identifying the bishop on Constantine’s right who delivered the opening address to the Emperor: this was certainly not Hosius (see V7t. C. iii. x1, and vol. 1 of this series, p. 19), but may have been Eusebius of Czsarea, who probably after a few words from Eustathius (Thdt.) or Alexander (Theod. Mops. and Philost.) was entrusted with so congenial a task. The name of Hosius stands first on the extant list of signatures, and he may have signed first, although the lists are bad witnesses. The words of Athanasius sometimes quoted in this connection (p. 256), ‘over what synod did he not preside?’ must be read in connection with the distinction made by Theodoret in quoting the passage in question (H.A&. ii. 15), that Hosius ‘was very prominent at the great synod of Nicza, and fresided over those who assembled at Sardica. This is the only evidence we possess to which any weight can be attached.
NOVELTY OF ARIANISM. Sexy ee ee from Alexandria itself, to Alexander (p. 137, tovrous Kal mapdvrus mapédoxer TO *AdeEdvdpo), who was thus enabled to check the Brevium or schedule handed in by their chief® All this must have taken a long time after Alexander's return, and the peace was soon broken by his death. Five months after the conclusion of the negotiations, Alexander having now died, the flame of schism broke out afresh (infr. p. 1 31. Montfaucon, in Migne xxv. p. lvii., shews conclusively that the above is the meaning of the pjvas mévre.) On his death-bed, Alexander called for Athanasius. He was away from Alexandria, but the other deacon of that name (see Signatures p. 71), stepped forward in answer to the call. But without noticing him, the Bishop repeated the name, adding, ‘ You think to escape, but it cannot be.’ (Sozom. ii. 17.) Alexander had already written his Easter Letter for the year 328 (it was apparently still extant at the end of the century, p. 503). He died on April 17 of that year (Pharmuthi 22), and on the eighth of June Athanasius was chosen bishop in his stead.
§ 3 (2). The sttuation after the Council of Nicea.
TuH= council (a) had testified, by its horrified and spontaneous rejection of it, that Arianism was a novelty subversive of the Christian faith as they had received it from their fathers. They had (b) banished it from the Church by an inexorable test, which even the leading supporters of Arius had been induced to subscribe. In the years immediately following, we find (c) a large majority of the Eastern bishops, especially of Syria and Asia Minor, the very regions whence the numerical strength of the council was drawn, in full reaction against the council; first against the leaders of the victorious party, eventually and for nearly a whole generation against the symbol itself; the final victory of the latter in the East being the result of the slow growth of conviction, a growth independent of the authority of the council which it eventually was led to recognise. To understand this paradox of history, which determines the whole story of the life of Athanasius as bishop, it is necessary to estimate at some length the theological and ecclesiastical situation at the close of the council: this will best be done by examining each point in turn (a) the novelty of Arianism, (b) the éuoovotoy as a theological formula, (c) the materials for reaction.
(a) ‘ Arianism was a new doctrine in the Church’ (Harnack, p. 218); but it claimed to be no novelty. And it was successful for a long time in gaining ‘conservative’ patronage. Its novelty, as observed above, is sufficiently shewn by its reception at the Council of Niczea. But no novelty springs into existence without antecedents. What were the antecedents of Arianism? How does it stand related to the history within the Church of the momentous question, ‘ What think ye of Christ?’
In examining such a question, two methods are possible. We may take as our point of departure the formu- lated dogma say of Nicwa, and examine in the light of it variations in theological statements in preceding periods, to shew that they do not warrant us in regarding the dogma as aninnovation. ‘hat is the dogmatic method. Or we may take our start from the beginning, and trace the history of doctrine in the order of cause and effect, so as to detect the divergence and convergence of streams of influence, and arrive at an answer to the question, How came men to think and speak as they did? That is the historical method. Both methods have their recommendations, and either has been ably applied to the problem before us. In electing the latter I choose the more difficult road; but I do so with the conviction, firstly, that the former has tended (and especially in the ablest hands) to obscure our perception of the actual facts, secondly, that the saving faith of Christ has everything to gain from a method which appeals directly to our sense of historical truth, and satisfies, not merely overawes, the mind.
Let us then go back to ‘ the beginning of the Gospel.’ Taking the synoptic gospels as our primary evidence, we ask, what did Christ our Lord teach about Himself? We do not find formal definitions of doctrine concerning His Person. Doubtless it may seem that such a definition on His part would have saved infinite dispute and searchings of heart in the history of the Church, But recognising in Him the unique and supreme Revealer of the Father, it is not for us to say what He should have taught; we must accept His method of teaching as that which Divine Wisdom chose as the best, and its sequel in history as the way in which God willed man to learn. We find then in the materials which we possess for the history of His Life and Teaching fully enough to explain the belief of His disciples (see below) in His Divinity. %rstly, there is no serious doubt as to His claim to be the Messiah. (The confession of Peter in all four Gospels, Matt. xvi. 16; Mark viii. 29; Luke ix. 27; John vi. 69; ‘ Son of Man,’ Dan. vii. 13; ix. 24, &c.) In this character He is King in the kingdom of Heaven (Matt. xxv. 31—36, cf. Mk. viii. 38), and revises the Law with full authority (Matt. v. 21—44, cf. Luke v. 24; Matt. xii. 8). It may be added that whatever this claim conveyed to the Jews of His own time (see Stanton’s Fewish and Christian Messiah) it is impossible to combine in one idea the Old Testament traits of the Coming One if we stop short of the identification of the Messiah with the God of Israel (see Delitzsch, Psa/ms, vol. i. pp. 94, 95, last English ed.). Secondly, Christ enjoys and confers the full authority of God (Matt. x. go; Luke x. 16; cf. also Matt. xxiv. 35; Mk. xiii. 31; Luke xxi. 33), gives and promises the Holy Spirit (‘the Spirit of the Fathe,’ see Matt. x. 17, &c.; Luke xii. 12, and especially xxi. 15, ¢y& yap 5éow, &c.), and apparently sends the prophets and holy men of old (cf. Matt. xxiii. 34, éy@ awooréAAw with Luke xi. 49). Thirdly, the foundation of all this is laid in a passage preserved by the first and third gospels, in which He claims the unqualified possession of the mind of the Father (Luke x. 22; 6 It is worth noting that the Nicene arrangement was successful in some few cases. See Index to this vol. s.v. Theon (ot Nilopolis), &c.
Matt. xi. 27), ‘No man knoweth [who] the Son [is], save the Father, neither knoweth any man [who] the Father lis} save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will (GvJAnra:) reveal Him.’ Observe the veceprocily of know- ledge between the Son and the Father. This claim is a decisive zxstantia federis between the Synoptics and the Fourth Gospel, e.g. John xvi. 15; xiv. 9, &c. Fourthly, we observe the claim made by Him throughout the synoptic record to absolute confidence, absolute faith, obedience, self-surrender, such as no frail man is justified in claiming from another; the absence of any trace in the mind of the ‘meek and lowly’ one of that consciousness of sin, that need of reconciliation.with God, which is to us an indispensable condition of the religious temper, and the starting-point of Christian faith (contrast Isa. vi. 5).: We now turn to the Apostles. Here a few brief remarks must suffice. (A suggestive summary in Sanday, © What the first Christians thought about Christ,’ Oxford House Papers, First Series.) That S. Paul’s summary of the Gospel (1 Cor. xv. 3 sgg.) is given by him as common ground between himself and the older Apostles follows strictly from the fact that the verb used (rapéAaBor) links the facts of Redemption (v. 3, 4) with the personal experi- ences of the original disciples (5 sgg.). In fact it is not in dispute that the original Jewish nucleus of the Apostolic Church preached Jesus as the Messiah, and His death as the ground of forgiveness of sins (Pfleiderer, Urchrist. p. 20; Acts ii. 36,38; iii. 26; iv. 12, &c.; the ‘Hebraic colouring’ of these early chapters is very characteristic and important). The question is, however, how much this implied as to the Divine Personality of the Saviour; how far the belief of the Apostles and their contemporaries was uniform and explicit on this point. Important light is thrown on this question by the controversy which divided S. Paul from the mass of Jewish Christians with respect to the observance of the Law. Our primary source of knowledge here is Galatians, ch. ii, We there learn that while S. Paul regarded this question as involving the whole essence of the Gospel, and resisted every attempt to impose circumcision on Gentile Christians, the older Apostles conceded the one point regarded as central, and, while reserving the obligation of the Law on those born under it (which S. Paul never directly assailed, 1 Cor. vii. 18) recognised the Gospel of the uncircumcision as legitimate. This concession, as the event proved, conceded every- thing; if the ‘gospel of the uncircumcision’ was sufficient for salvation, circumcision became a national, not a religious principle. Now this whole question was fundamentally a question about Christ. Men who believed, or were willing to grant, that the Law uttered from Sinai by the awful voice of the Most High Himself was no longer the supreme revelation of God, the one divinely ordained covenant of righteousness, certainly believed that some revelation of God different iz £2nd (for no revelation of God zo man could surpass the degree of Ex. xxxiii. 11) had taken place, an unique revelation of God zz man. The revelation of God in Christ, not the revelation of God to Moses, was the one fact in the world’s history; Sinai was dwarfed in comparison of Calvary. But it must be observed that while the older Apostles, by the very recognition of the gospel of the uncircumcision, went thus far with S. Paul, S. Paul realised as a central principle what to others lay at the circumference. What to the one was a result of their belief in Christ was to him the starting-point, from which logical conclusions were seen to follow, practical applications made in every direction. At the same time S. Paul taught nothing about Christ that was not zmplied in the belief of the older Apostles, or that they would not have felt impelled by their own religious position to accept. In fact it was their fundamental union in the implicit belief of the divinity of the Lord that made possible any agreement between S. Paul and the Jewish Apostles as to the gospel of the uncircumcision.
The apostles of the circumcision, however, stood between S. Paul and the zealot mass of Jewish Christians (Acts xxi. 20), many of whom were far from acquiescing in the recognition of S. Paul’s Gospel. On the same principle that we have used to determine the belief of the 37dA0 with regard to Christ, we must needs recognise that where the gospel of the uncircumcision was still assailed or disparaged, the Divinity of Christ was appre- hended faintly, or not at all.
The name of the ‘Ebionite’ sect testifies to its continuity with a section of the Jerusalem Church (see Light- foot’s Galatians, S. Paul and the Three). It should be observed, however, firstly that between the clear-sighted Apostle of the Gentiles and the straitest of the zealots, there lay every conceivable gradation of intermediate positions (Loofs, Zeitfé § 11. 2, 3); secondly, that while emancipation from legalism in the Apostolic Church ee what has been said above, a belief in the divinity of Jesus was in itself compatible with strict Jewish observance.