omentous resolution can be found in history. The whole
future of Christianity was determined by it; and we must fairly face the
question whether Athanasius was right or not. Would it not have been
every way better to rest satisfied with the great moral victory already
gained? When heathens were pressing into the church in crowds, was that
a suitable time to offend them with a solemn proclamation of the very
doctrine which chiefly kept them back? It was, moreover, a dangerous
policy to insist on measures for which even Christian opinion was not
ripe, and it led directly to the gravest troubles in the
churches--troubles of which no man then living was to see the end. The
first half century of prelude was a war of giants; but the main contest
opened at Nicaea is not ended yet, or like to end before the Lord himself
shall come to end it. It was the decision of Athanasius which made half
the bitterness between the Roman and the Teuton, between Christianity
and Islam to this day. Even now it is the worst stumbling-block of
Western unbelief. Many of our most earnest enemies would gladly forget
their enmity if we would only drop our mysticism and admire with them a
human Christ who never rose with power from the dead. But we may not do
this thing. Christianity cannot make its peace with this world by
dropping that message from the other which is its only reason for
existence. Athanasius was clearly right. When Constantine had fairly put
the question, they could not refuse to answer. Let the danger be what it
might, they could not deliberately leave it open for Christian bishops
(the creed was not for others) to dispute whether our Lord is truly God
or not. Those may smile to whom all revelation is a vain thing; but it
is our life, and we believe it is their own life too. If there is truth
or even meaning in the gospel, this question of all others is most
surely vital. Nor has history failed to justify Athanasius. That heathen
age was no time to trifle with heathenism in the very citadel of
Christian life. Fresh from the fiery trial of the last great
persecution, whose scarred and mutilated veterans were sprinkled through
the council-hall, the church of God was entering on a still mightier
conflict with the spirit of the world. If their fathers had been
faithful unto death or saved a people from the world, their sons would
have to save the world itself and tame its Northern conquerors. Was that
a time to say of Christ, 'But as for