Arius the Libyan: A Romance of the Primitive Church

by Nathan C. Kouns

The resolution, or proposition, was voted down, but the discussion of it gave Athanasius the opportunity he wanted. Having arisen with that almost irresistible grace and suavity which distinguished him, the beautiful young man, in a light, musical, mocking tone, that must have been terribly irritating to a grave and reverend presbyter like Arius, spoke as follows: "I greatly marvel, brethren, that we have not enjoyed the benefit of that princely readiness and strength in debate for which the very learned presbyter Arius hath so great reputation, upon this important question. Surely a minister who is reputed to have at his beck and call, day or night, rain or shine, more than seven hundred virgins and widows in our good city of Alexandria, ought to be able, from his own experience, to give us wise counsel concerning the celibacy of the clergy. I hope that he will do so."

The brilliant, smiling youth resumed his seat, and every eye was turned upon the Libyan, but he neither rose nor answered. The grand, shaggy head bent slightly forward, and a momentary gleam shone in the somber eyes; while a peculiar shiver passed over his whole frame, the python's idiopathic legacy, and a weary sigh exhaled through the ashy lips; but he took not even the slightest notice of Athanasius, nor of his flippant speech. It was manifest that all of them expected him to say something, knowing the readiness and splendor of his oratory, but he was utterly silent; and this silence, following the young archdeacon's sally against him, seemed to indicate an unpleasant state of feeling--or what did it indicate?

"He could browbeat his bishop in Alexandria," whispered a bishop to Eusebius of Nicomedia, "but he quaileth in the presence of the emperor."

But Eusebius answered: "He quaileth not for any man; but he answereth not, because to do so might be to recognize this assembly as a council of the Church, and that he hath not yet done by speech or act."

Then the headstrong and violent Marcellus, Bishop of Ancyra, cried out in fierce, defiant tones: "Hearest thou not the friendly utterances of Athanasius, who speaketh for Alexander, thy bishop? or dost thou carry thyself so high as to treat with contempt thy learned and venerable bishop, thou iron-hearted heretic, that thou answerest nothing?"

The Libyan turned his head slightly, and, fixing his sad eyes upon Marcellus, gazed upon him steadily, quietly, compassionately, but did not utter a word; and immediately there was a clamor throughout the assembly, some condemning the intemperate words and manner of the Bishop of Ancyra, and some the seeming insolence of Arius. Then the Emperor Constantine arose, and forthwith the clamor subsided, and the emperor said: "I have often and earnestly desired that peace and Christian charity might characterize our deliberations. The remarks and the manner of the Bishop of Ancyra are hasty and uncalled for; but the obstinate silence of the presbyter indicateth a proud and scornful mind--for it is known to all that the young archdeacon speaketh for the holy Bishop Alexander because of his age and feebleness; and if thou dost decline to notice the brilliant Athanasius because of his youth, thou must not despise thy venerable superior who speaketh through him. I command thee, therefore, to answer as if Alexander himself had addressed thee."

The emperor sat down, and a murmur of admiration and applause ran through the entire assembly. Then the mighty heretic arose, and in his sweet, incisive, penetrating voice, answered: "By command of Augustus, the emperor, whose legal subject I have become by the defeat and death of the late Emperor Licinius, I arise to declare that if any one supposeth I did fail to notice the remarks of the young, learned, and eloquent archdeacon, because of any feeling of scorn for his youth, or for his office, or because of any uncharity toward him, or any one else in this assembly, he doeth me much injustice. This, it seemeth to me, is well proved by the fact, which ye all do know, that during the weeks that ye have been assembled, I have taken no part in any discussion, ecclesiastical or political, in which ye have engaged. Because I am not an officer of the Roman government, civil, military, or judicial, and have not thought it to be consistent with the position and duties of a presbyter of the Church of Jesus Christ to assume the right to take part in the business of a royal council, seeing that my life hath been devoted to religious affairs which belong to our Lord, and not to civil, military, or judicial functions which pertain unto the emperor, I supposed that it would be as indecent and presumptuous for me to meddle with the business of the empire, by virtue of my office, as it would be for a Roman judge, or centurion, to intrude into my church and preach the gospel by virtue of his judicial or military rank. If it had been otherwise, I might have had something to say when I perceived that the royal authority offered a gross insult to Christ and to his Church by making Elia Capitolina, the ancient Jerusalem, the oldest and most honored see in Christendom, secondary to new Nicomedia, in order to accommodate ecclesiastical departments to the other political divisions of the empire; nor would I speak at all except at the command of the emperor."

Having thus spoken, Arius took his seat. The words opened up plainly and unmistakably the vast difference that separated the Christianity of the first three centuries from the imperial Church of Constantine: the allegiance that belonged to Jesus alone was in process of being transferred to the emperor. It was to extirpate this very freedom of conscience, this very liberty of the gospel that acknowledged no master but Christ, that Constantine had convened the council; and although he had known that the question must come up, and must be met, and although he had been for years, and especially since the summoning of the bishops, using every artifice, argument, and influence, and urging his ablest agents, to be prepared for it when it might come, he and his partisans had determined that it should be raised out of proceedings to be instituted against Arius upon charges of heresy; but the wonderful adroitness with which the great presbyter had changed the face of the whole matter, and had actually put both the emperor and his council on the defensive, took Constantine utterly by surprise, and for a moment he lost even his marvelous self-control, and cried out in a voice of thunder, "Then why art thou here?"

And Arius, with scintillant eyes, but in placid, melodious tones, responded: "I came hither upon the written order of the emperor, as I supposed it to be the duty of a law-abiding subject to do; but certainly not as an officer of the Roman government, entitled to participate in royal businesses."

This calm and dignified reply still more clearly revealed to all the assembly the fact that their enthusiastic love for Constantine had too much blinded their eyes to the undeniable truth that the council was oecumenical, not apostolical--the affair of the emperor, not of the Christ. This reply was not ostensibly connected with any heretical teachings of Arius, or of any one else, and raised no question of orthodoxy at all; it struck at the very tap-roots of the whole movement. "Whose council is this?" was the question that each involuntarily asked himself, and it was manifest that the simple, unobjectionable words of the Libyan produced a profound impression upon many hearts that began to consider whether the fact that the council was royal did not imply in itself the fact that it was not Christian, but was really treasonable toward Christ; and in the midst of the solemn silence caused by such anxious meditation, the virulent and incautious Bishop of Ancyra cried out: "Who art thou that censurest the victorious and holy emperor, and condemnest the oecumenical council of the Church with thy sly, serpentine wriggle and speech? Art thou not Arius the heretic? Arius the defamer of the Son of God? thou bold scorner of the Holy Trinity! thou cunning madman!"