From the nous proceeds the psyche, the principle of life and motion, the world soul which is in the universe and which is shared by every living creature. It also knows, but only through the processes of reasoning, by means of separating, distributing, and combining the data obtained by sense perception, so that it corresponds in function to the “common sense” of Aristotle, whilst the nous shows the functions which are attributed to it by Aristotle and has the character which Alexander reads into Aristotle.

The work of Plotinus was continued by his pupil Porphyry (d. 300 A.D.) who taught at Rome, and is chiefly noteworthy as the one who completed the fusion of Platonic and Aristotelian elements in the neo-Platonic system, and especially as introducing the scientific methods of Aristotle. Plotinus had criticized adversely the Aristotelian categories (Enn. vi.), but Porphyry and all the later neo-Platonists returned to Aristotle. Indeed, he is best known to posterity as the author of the Isagoge, long current as the regular introduction to the logical Organon of Aristotle. Then came Jamblichus (d. 330), the pupil of Porphyry who used neo-Platonism as the basis of a pagan theology; and finally Proklus (d. 485) its last great pagan adherent who was even more definitely a theologian.

Neo-Platonism was the system just coming to the forefront when the Christians of Alexandria began to be in contact with philosophy. The first prominent Alexandrian Christian who endeavoured to reconcile philosophy and Christian theology was Clement of Alexandria who, like Justin Martyr, was a Platonist of the older type. Clement’s Stromateis is a very striking work which shows the general body of Christian doctrine adapted to the theories of Platonic philosophy. It does not tamper with the traditional Christian doctrine, but it is evidently the work of one who sincerely believed that Plato had partially foreseen what the Gospels taught, and that he had used a clear and efficient terminology which was in all respects suitable for the expression of profound truths, and so Clement uses this terminology, incidentally assuming the Platonic metaphysics, and so unconsciously modifies the contents of Christianity. If we ask whether this results in a fair presentation of Christian teaching we shall perhaps be inclined to admit that, in spite of modification and in view of the scientific attitude of the times it substantially does so: when truths already expressed by those who have not received a scientific training are repeated by those who have and who are careful to cast their expression into logical and consistent form, some modification is inevitable. Whether the scientific assumptions and philosophy generally of Clement were correct is, of course, another matter; modern opinion would say it was incorrect. But, so far as contemporary science went, it was obviously an honest effort. It has not been appreciated by all Clement’s successors and he is one of the few Christian leaders who has been formally deprived of the honorific title of “saint” which was at one time prefixed to his name. Within the next few centuries the re-formulation of Christianity proceeded steadily until at last it appears as essentially Hellenistic, but with the Platonic element now modified by the more spiritualistic influences of neo-Platonism. Undoubtedly this was a gain for Christianity, for when we read the Didache and other early non-Hellenistic Christian material we cannot help feeling that it shows a narrower and more cramped outlook and one far less suited to satisfy the needs and aspirations of humanity at large. It is curious to compare Clement of Alexandria with Tertullian, one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of the literary lights of Latin Christianity, but severe, puritanically rigid, and suspicious and hostile in his attitude towards philosophy which he regards as essentially pagan.

The next great leader of Alexandrian Christian thought was Origen himself a pupil of Plotinus, and one who found little difficulty in adapting contemporary philosophy to Christian doctrine, although this adaptation was by no means received with approval in all parts of the Christian community. Under Clement and Origen the catechetical instruction which was regularly given in all churches to candidates for baptism was expanded and developed on the lines of the lectures given by the philosophers in the Museum, and so a Christian school of philosophical theology was formed. This development was not regarded favourably by the older fashioned churches nor by the philosophers of the Museum, and even amongst the Alexandrian Christians there was a section which viewed it with disapproval, especially evident when the school became so prominent that it tended to overshadow the ordinary diocesan organization.

This is not the place to consider the various intrigues which ultimately compelled Origen to leave Alexandria and retire to Palestine. There, at Caesarea, he founded a school on the model of that at Alexandria. This second foundation did not attain the same eminence as its proto-type, perhaps because Origen’s influence turned its activities into a direction too highly specialised in textual criticism, but it prompted a development which ultimately played an important part in the history of the Syrian church where, for some time to come, theological activity mainly centered in these schools which had their imitators amongst the Zoroastrians and the Muslims. The first such school in Syria was founded at Antioch by Malchion about 270 A.D. and deliberately copied the pattern set at Alexandria and ultimately became its rival.

About fifty years later a school was established at Nisibis, the modern Nasibin on the Mygdonius river, in the midst of a Syriac speaking community. The church had spread inland from the Mediterranean shores and had by this time many converts in the hinterland who were accustomed to use Syriac and not Greek. For the benefit of these the work at Nisibis was done in Syriac, Syriac versions were prepared of the theological works studied at Antioch, and the Greek language was taught so that the Syriac speaking Christians were brought into closer touch with the life of the Church at large.

The acquiescence of the Church in the Alexandrian philosophy had far-reaching consequences. The Church did not officially adopt the neo-Platonic philosophy in its entirety, but it had to adjust itself to an atmosphere in which the neo-Platonic system was accepted as the last word in scientific enquiry and where the Aristotelian metaphysics and psychology were assumed as an established and unquestionable basis of knowledge. It was impossible for churchmen, educated in this atmosphere, to do otherwise than accept these principles, just as it is impossible for us to admit that the body of a saint can be in two places at once, our whole education training us to assume certain limitations of time and space, although a devout Muslim of Morocco can believe it and honours two shrines as each containing the body of the same saint who, he believes, in his life time had power of over-passing the limitations of space. The general postulates of the later Platonic and Aristotelian philosophy were firmly established in the fourth century in Alexandria and its circle, and were no more open to question than the law of gravity or the rotundity of the earth would be to us. It was known that there were people who questioned these things, but it could only be accounted for by blind ignorance in those who had not received the benefits of an enlightened education. The Christians were no more able to dispute these principles than anyone else. They were perfectly sincere in their religion, many articles of faith which present considerable difficulty to the modern mind presented no difficulty to them; but it was perfectly obvious that the statements of Christian doctrine must be brought into line with the current theory of philosophy, or with self evident truth as they would have termed it. It shows a strange lack of historical imagination when we talk slightingly about how Christians quarrelled over words, forgetting what these words represented and how they stood for the established conclusions of philosophy as then understood.

This comes out very plainly in the Arian controversy. Both sides agreed that Christ was the Son of God, the relation of Father and Son being, of course, not that of human parentage but rather by way of emanation: both agreed that Christ was God, as the emanation necessarily had the same nature as the source from which it proceeded: both agreed that the Son proceeded from the Father in eternity and before the worlds were created, the Son or Logos being the intermediary of creation. But some, and these, it would seem, mainly associated with the school of Antioch, so spoke of the Son proceeding from the Father as an event which had taken place far before all time in the remoteness of eternity, it is true, but so that there was when the Father had not yet begotten the Son, for, they argued, the Father must have preceded the Son as the cause precedes the effect, and so the Son was, as it were, less eternal than the Father. At once the Alexandrians corrected them. To begin with there are no degrees in eternity: but, most serious error of all, this idea made God liable to variation, at one period of eternity he had been alone, and then he had become a father: philosophy taught that the First Cause, the True God, is liable to no change, if he is Father now, he must have been so from all eternity: we must understand the Son as the Logos for ever eternally issuing forth from the Father as source. The actual merits of the controversy do not at present concern us: we simply notice the fact that the current Greek philosophy entirely dominated the theology of the Church and it was imperative for that theology to be expressed in terms which fitted in with the philosophy. The result of the Arian struggle was that the Eastern church came to recognise the Alexandrian philosophy as the exponent of orthodoxy, and in this it was followed by the greater part of the Western Church, though the West Goths still remained attached to the Arian views which they had learned from their first teachers.

By the fifth century Arian doctrine had been completely eliminated from the state church and Alexandrian philosophy which had been the chief means of bringing about this result, was dominant, although there are indications that it was viewed with suspicion in some quarters. Amongst the controversies which took place in the post-Nicene age the most prominent are those which concerned the person of the incarnate Christ, and these are largely questions of psychology. It was generally admitted that man has a psyche or animal soul which he shares with the rest of the sentient creatures, and in addition to this a spirit or rational soul which, under the influence of the neo-Platonists or of Alexander of Aphrodisias, was regarded as an emanation from the creative spirit, the Logos or “Agent Intellect,” a belief which Christian theologians supported by the statement in Genesis that God breathed into man the breath of life and so man became a living soul. In fact St. Paul had already distinguished between the two elements, the animal soul and the immortal spirit, in accordance with the psychology which had been developed in his time. But Christian theology supposed that in Christ was also present the eternal Logos which had been the creative Spirit and of which the spirit or rational soul was itself an emanation. What, therefore, would be the relation between the Logos and its own emanation when they came together in the same person? If the Alexandrian philosophy and the Christian religion were both true the problem was capable of reasonable solution: if its only answer was a manifest absurdity then either the psychology or Christianity was in error, and then, as always, it was assumed that contemporary science was sure and religion had to be tested by its standard. To this particular problem two solutions were proposed. The one, especially maintained at Alexandria, was that the Logos and the rational soul or spirit, being in the relation of source and emanation, necessarily fused together when simultaneously present in the same body, the point being of course that the Logos was the agent of creation, the True God not acting therein as it was an activity in time, but through the intermediary of the Logos, whilst the animal soul dispersed through creation was ultimately derived from the Logos, but the spirit was directly proceeding from it, all of which represents the philosophical theory formulated by Alexander of Aphrodisias and the neo-Platonists and then accepted as unassailable. The other solution, which found its chief advocates at Antioch, laid stress on the completeness of the humanity of Christ so that the body, animal soul, and spirit were necessarily complete in the humanity and the Logos dwelt in the human frame without subtracting the spirit which was one of the essentials of humanity, and so there could have been no fusion because this would have implied the return of the spirit to its source and consequently its subtraction from the humanity of Christ. This solution, it will be observed, postulates the same psychology as the other, and whichever view prevailed the Church would be irrevocably committed to the current psychology by this definition of its doctrine.