bread and wine were viewed with superstitious awe, and language was applied to them which was calculated to bewilder and to confound.  A system of penitential discipline alien to the spirit of the New Testament was already in existence; rites and ceremonies unknown in the apostolic age had now made their appearance; and in the great towns a crowd of functionaries, whom Paul and Peter would have refused to own, added to the pomp of public worship.  Some imagine that in the times of Tertullian and of Cyprian we may find the purest faith in the purest form, but a more intimate acquaintance with the history of the period is quite sufficient to dispel the delusion.  A little consideration may, indeed, convince us that, in the second or third century, we could scarcely expect to see either the most brilliant displays of the light of truth or the most attractive exhibitions of personal holiness.  The waters of life gushed forth, clear as crystal, from the Rock of Ages; but, as their course was through the waste wilderness of a degenerate world, they were soon defiled by its pollutions; and it was not until the desert began “to rejoice and blossom as the rose,” that the stream flowed smoothly in the channel it had wrought, and partially recovered its native purity.  At the present day we would not be warranted in expecting as high a style of Christianity in a convert from idolatry as in one who had been trained up from infancy under the care of enlightened and godly parents.  By judicious culture the graces of the Spirit, as well as the fruits of the earth, may be improved; but when a section of the open field of immorality and ignorance is first added to the garden of the Lord, it may not forthwith possess all the fertility and loveliness of the more ancient plantation. [652:1] A large portion of the early disciples had once been heathens; they had to struggle against evil habits and inveterate prejudices; they were surrounded on all sides by corrupting influences; and, as they had not the same means of obtaining an exact and comprehensive knowledge of the gospel as ourselves, we cannot reasonably hope to find among them any very extraordinary measure either of spiritual wisdom or of consistent piety.

When the Church towards the middle of the second century was sorely harassed by divisions, its situation was extremely critical and embarrassing.  Christianity had appeared among men bearing the olive branch of peace, and had proposed to supersede the countless superstitions of the heathen by a faith which would bind the human race together in one great and harmonious family.  How mortified, then, must have been its friends when Basilides, Marcion, Valentine, Cerdo, Mark, and many others began to propagate their heresies, and when it appeared as if the divisions of the Church were to be as numerous as the religions of paganism!  Had the ministers of the gospel girded themselves for the emergency; had they boldly encountered the errorists, and vanquished them with weapons drawn