were soon attracted by them.  They formed the favorite subjects of conversation, as well as of public teaching.  Zeal in discussion created acrimony and partisan animosity.  Things were lost sight of, and words alone prevailed.  Sects and parties arose.  The sublime efforts of such men as Justin and Clement to soar to a knowledge of God were perverted to vain disputations in reference to the relations between the three persons of the Godhead.

Alexandria was the centre of these theological agitations, being then, perhaps, the most intellectual city in the Empire.  It was filled with Greek philosophers and scholars and artists, and had the largest library in the world.  It had the most famous school of theology, the learned and acute professors of which claimed to make theology a science.  Philosophy became wedded to theology, and brought the aid of reason to explain the subjects of faith.

Among the noted theologians of this Christian capital was a presbyter who preached in the principal church.  His name was Arius, and he was the most popular preacher of the city.  He was a tall, spare man, handsome, eloquent, with a musical voice and earnest manner.  He was the idol of fashionable women and cultivated men.  He was also a poet, like Abelard, and popularized his speculations on the Trinity.  He was as reproachless in morals as Dr. Channing or Theodore Parker; ascetic in habits and dress; bold, acute, and plausible; but he shocked the orthodox party by such sayings as these:  “God was not always Father; once he was not Father; afterwards he became Father.”  He affirmed, in substance, that the Son was created by the Father, and hence was inferior in power and dignity.  He did not deny the Trinity, any more than Abelard did in after times; but his doctrines, pushed out to their logical sequence, were a virtual denial of the divinity of Christ.  If he were created, he was a creature, and, of course, not God.  A created being cannot be the Supreme Creator.  He may be commissioned as a divine and inspired teacher, but he cannot be God himself.  Now his bishop, Alexander, maintained that the Son (Logos, or Word) is eternally of the same essence as the Father, uncreated, and therefore equal with the Father.  Seeing the foundation of the faith, as generally accepted, undermined, he caused Arius to be deposed by a synod of bishops.  But the daring presbyter was not silenced, and obtained powerful and numerous adherents.  Men of influence—­like Eusebius the historian—­tried to compromise the difficulties for the sake of unity; and some looked on the discussion as a war of words, which did not affect salvation.  In time the bitterness of the dispute became a scandal.  It was deemed disgraceful for Christians to persecute each other for dogmas which could not be settled except by authority, and in the discussion of which metaphysics so strongly entered.  Alexander thought otherwise.  He regarded the speculations of Arius as heretical, as derogating from the supreme allegiance which was due to Christ.  He thought that the very foundations of Christianity were being undermined.