2.  The Church that did make its way and coalesced with the State in the fourth century had no more to do with the Church founded by Jesus than Ultramontanism has with Quakerism.  It is Alexandrian Judaism and Neoplatonistic mystagogy, and as much of the old idolatry and demonology as could be got in under new or old names.

3.  Paul has said that the Law was schoolmaster to Christ with more truth than he knew.  Throughout the Empire the synagogues had their cloud of Gentile hangers-on—­those who “feared God” and who were fully prepared to accept a Christianity which was merely an expurgated Judaism and the belief in Jesus as the Messiah.

4.  The Christian “Sodalitia” were not merely religious bodies, but friendly societies, burial societies, and guilds.  They hung together for all purposes; the mob hated them as it now hates the Jews in Eastern Europe, because they were more frugal, more industrious, and led better lives than their neighbours, while they stuck together like Scotchmen.

    If these things are true—­and I appeal to your knowledge of
    history that they are so—­what has the success of Christianity
    to do with the truth or falsehood of the story of Jesus?

Furthermore, behind all the theological developments of the Church lies the whole question of Theism, and “the philosophical difficulties of Theism now are neither greater nor less than they have been ever since Theism was invented.”

XIV

LIFE AND FRIENDSHIPS

“To live laborious days” was, for Huxley, at all times a necessity as well as a creed.  The lover of knowledge and truth, he firmly believed, must devote his uttermost powers to their service; he held as strongly that every man’s first duty to society was to support himself.  But science provided more fame than pence, and with wife and family to support he was spurred to redoubled efforts.  In the early years of married life especially, while he was still struggling to make his way, he often felt the pinch.  He added to his modest income by reviewing and translating scientific books and by lecturing.  On one occasion, when he was a candidate for a certain scientific lectureship, one of the committee of election, a wealthy man, expressed astonishment at his application—­“what can he want with a hundred a year?” “I dare say,” commented Huxley, “he pays his cook that.”  In early days, visioning the future, he and his wife had fondly planned to marry on L400 a year, while he pursued science, unknown if need be, for the sake of science.  The reality pressed hardly upon them; those were dark evenings when he would come home fagged out by a second lecture at the end of a full day’s work and lay himself down wearily on one couch, while she, so long a semi-invalid, lay uselessly on another.  And, later, the upbringing of a large family, though its advent made life the