Constantine and Licinius. Whatever Constantine may have thought in his heart of Christianity in 313, Licinius was a convinced pagan. He, at least, had no leanings towards the religion to which he was thus giving a legal status. It was a mere political act, the extension to the Christians, for the common good of the Empire, of privileges and rights which could no longer safely be denied to them, and it could, therefore, be the act of pagans just as easily and consistently as of Christians or converts.

The edict is divided into two parts. The first lays down the principle which was to govern future action; the second is devoted to a detailed instruction on the methods according to which the properties which had been confiscated from the Christians during the years of persecution were to be given back. Henceforward,

every man, without distinction of rank or of nationality, is to have free choice and liberty in religious matters; and he is not only not to be persecuted or compelled in matters of conscience, but to be left without any kind of molestation or annoyance. Of course, the freedom of the Christians is what is aimed at and intended, but the edict is not openly drawn up from a Christian standpoint, for if it had been, Licinius could not have signed it. So there is not even any explicit mention of the name of God, and the powers of heaven are spoken of in obscure terms-Quicquid est divinitatis in sede coelesti, Whatever divinity reigns in heaven. By these means the object was fully attained; the perfect liberty of the Christians was completely ensured wherever the edict had force and was not frustrated by the action of Maximin the third Emperor; but, at the same time, the personal religious opinions of Constantine and of Licinius were in no way compromised.

As a matter of fact, however, Constantine was

already prepared not only to allow the Christians freedom, but also to give them the benefit of his own patronage, though he was not willing to go so far as to undergo baptism and take upon himself the responsibilities of being an actual professing Christian. He wrote letters to the Bishops of Africa which implied that he held the Christian faith. "I, too, expect to be judged by Christ," he wrote in 313. In this same year, too, he handed over the palace of the Lateran to serve as a residence for the Christian bishop and as a meeting-place for Christian worship; and it was there in the next year, 313, that a council was held against the Donatists and sentence was finally issued. But still the Emperor, however well inclined privately, was not openly Christian. The coins of this period, and indeed of his whole reign, are still entirely pagan, which is no doubt largely accounted for by the fact that coinage was a privilege of the Senate, and the Senate was still overwhelmingly pagan. Constantine was still Pontifex Maximus and practically supreme head of the State religion. He could not give up this dignity without lowering himself in the eyes of a large number of his subjects, nor could he allow it to be held by any other. While paganism retained any strong life at all it was impossible that an Emperor should not be Pontifex Maximus and keep its regulation in his own hands. That had been seen long ago by Tertullian, when he said that no man could. be at once Cæsar and Christian.1 But what had seemed so impossible to the clear-sighted and logical African, was feasible for a politician of less uncompromising character, and the double rôle of Christian Emperor and Pagan Pontifex was successfully sus166 Apol." xxi. "Sed et Cæsares credidissent super Christo, si aut Cæsares non essent saeculo necessarii, aut si Christiani potuissent esse Cæsares."

tained throughout a period of fifty years both by Constantine himself and by his sons. It was probably precisely this political necessity which made Constantine put off his baptism to the very last moments of his life.

The Position of Constantine.

Even in 313, when he triumphed over Maxentius, Constantine had refrained from any actual part in pagan sacrifices. He gave the people their games and rejoicings, but there is no mention of any visit on his part to the Capitol. In 315, when the Arch of Triumph was erected in his honour near the Colosseum, the question of the inscription to be placed thereon brought up the same difficulty once again. An examination of it will show how the question was solved by means of a compromise. He would not admit of the older phrases such as diis faventibus, by the favour of the gods, but, on the other hand, the Senate and the Roman people would have rebelled against any ascription which would openly exclude the ancient deities. The actual phrase adopted, instinctu divinitatis, is capable of interpretation in either way, though it is certainly more easily explained as referring to the one true God. But it passed the Senate, as far as we know, unopposed, and takes its place as the first explicit statement in an official monument of the momentous change which had taken place.

Now and again the history of the times allows us to catch a glimpse of the very difficult position in which Constantine found himself through the endeavour to belong to both camps at once, and to be at heart and by profession a Christian without definitely breaking first with paganism. The old religion was far stronger in the West than in the East, and he was able to do more for Christianity and against paganism at Con