we apply to matters of trade and finance; it is realised more clearly than ever that education is a large factor in success. So far, so good; no prudent citizen will quarrel with the sagacity which calls attention to matters so closely related to national welfare. But these are not the only matters towards which our thoughts should be turned. The life of a people is not in commerce merely, or in commercial values reinforced by a wider, longer and more elaborate system of education. Behind all these lies the question of nationality and of the influences which contribute to the security of national life. Commerce is important, and the consideration of economic conditions after the war is therefore urgent; education is important, and more important than commerce, for on education rests commercial capacity; but more important than either of these is the religion of the people, for out of this grow the habits of reverence, of truth, and of love of right, which in their turn determine national character, and it is on character that the stability and continuance of national life depend.

For all those who are interested (and who is not interested?) in the future development of national life, the question of religion must hold a supreme position. It is, moreover, by a study of the past that we shall be able to understand the conditions of the present and best lay plans for the future. The watersheds of national history are worthy of exploration. We can welcome, therefore, the labours of any historian who has dug deep into the foundations of national life, and can exhibit to us the facts, deeds, documents, and even the historic stones, on which he has based his story. This feature constitutes one merit of Sir Henry Howorth's works; he has flanked and buttressed his narrative with abundant evidential material. A veteran in public life and activity, he has recently given us five volumes which deal directly and indirectly with the making of English nationality. On the other hand, the influence of the Gallican Church upon the history of France comes before us in Canon Scott Holmes' Birkbeck Lectures. Thus the cradle-time of two great nationalities is brought to our notice at the moment when, as allies, they are fighting the cause of Nationality in Europe. At first it might be thought that we were being swept away into an irrelevantly

distant time and place by having our attention at the same time claimed by such a book as Prof. Coleman's monograph on the Emperor Constantine; but here we are carried back to the root of the tree of good and evil, under whose shadow the conflicting claims of Church and State have been fought during many centuries. A certain completeness is given to the series of books under consideration by the opportune work of Canon Charles H. Robinson, who has given us in a single volume a survey of the missionary enterprise which led to the Christianisation of Europe.

The period of English history which Sir Henry Howorth has selected is one which needs to be better understood in order that its influence upon later ages may be recognised. It is an early and formative epoch which has attracted his attention, and to which, after having discoursed upon the characters and careers of two pioneers of the epoch, he now devotes his latest and most important work. He has given us careful studies of St Gregory and St Augustine before entering upon the story of what he calls 'The Golden Days of the Early English Church.'

In citing the title of this work, we perceive at once the theme which we have to consider. It is the influence of the Church in the development of national life. This is, no doubt, a theme which may plunge us into controversy. The utterance of the phrase 'Church and State' causes men to start up in eager antagonism. The bias of party; the prejudices which party accepts as sacred canons; the unhappy habit of taking short-range views, and dating either Church or national history from some favourite movement or achievement; the exaggerated hero-worship which theological prepossession encourages-all these make the subject a thorny and bewildering one, in which the ardent pursuit of sideissues is fatal to the understanding of the meaning of national development in its fullest, truest and noblest aspect. It is fortunate that at present, owing to the serious questions which the war has brought into prominence, there seems to be a healthier disposition abroad; men are ready to take wider views. It will, perhaps, be possible for us to consider the question of the Church as a factor in national development, without

wandering into profitless by-paths or raising the ghosts of controversies which it is the part of wisdom to bury out of sight.

Behind the story of all, or nearly all, national churches, there stands the shadow of one figure, which for good or evil flung the aura of his influence upon Christendom. The Emperor Constantine has been given the title of Great; he has been belauded and belittled; by some he has been hailed as a saint, by others he has been described as an ambitious hypocrite. It was natural enough that contending parties should exaggerate or attenuate his fame to suit their purpose; and, though centuries have passed and the passions of earlier times have abated, there is still enough theoretical or theological partisanship in the world to upset the balance or tarnish the charity of our judgment.

We can welcome, therefore, Prof. Coleman's treatise, for, however much we may hesitate to accept his conclusions on minor matters, we must be impressed by the careful and dispassionate character of his work. His conspicuous caution and sagacious independence of mind awaken confidence in his general conclusions; and it is a relief to pass from the heated atmosphere of party views, and to contemplate in a clearer light the portrait of the Emperor sketched by an impartial hand.

The reputation of Constantine has been imperilled alike by eulogist and antagonist, because his name is identified with the greatest religious change which ever transformed an Empire. In the eyes of the world, Constantine found the Empire pagan and left it Christian. In the circumstances, it is hardly to be wondered at that Christian gratitude, let alone human flattery, should place a halo on his head; but Prof. Coleman, if we are not mistaken, would endorse Niebuhr's words: When certain Oriental writers call him equal to the Apostles, they do not know what they are saying; and to speak of him as a saint is a profanation of the word.' His desires were not towards the halo of saintship, but towards the helmet studded with jewels' and adorned with the Oriental diadem which he, first of the emperors, made a practice of wearing. He loved display, whether in splendour of purple and gold apparel, or in orations on

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the faith which had brought him victory. When arrayed in imperial robes, he knew himself to be successor of the emperors who ruled the world, or the conqueror who founded new Rome; but, when he harangued the eager crowd of Christians who applauded his periods, we cannot imagine him speaking with the ardour or conviction of St Paul, or the childlike confidence of St John. His genius lay elsewhere; his vigorous onslaughts in battle, his effective victories, his edict of toleration, his patronage of the clergy, combine to give us the picture of a capable commander in war and an astute opportunist in policy.

He was not a zealous Christian filled with a burning faith in Christ; he was the man of prudent hesitations, whose views of religion developed according to the hopes and ambitions engendered by a calculating spirit not wholly emancipated from superstitious notions. It suited Christian writers to exaggerate any evidence of his faith and piety, but he had, especially early in his reign, pagan eulogists; only later did he assume Christianity, and then only gradually. The truth appears to have been that the men of that generation were not aware of the decisive struggle which was being fought; none realised that the predominance of paganism or of Christianity was at issue. It was not till Julian's time that it became clear that the day of paganism was over; and it was only when the victory was so obvious that it could not be ignored that pagan dislike of Constantine developed into bitter hostility. Constantine no doubt shared the contemporary blindness to the signs of the times; and his ultimate adhesion to Christianity was probably due to a blend of superstition and opportunism.

It would be a mistake to regard him either as the embodiment of unscrupulous ambition or as a man unselfishly free from all ambitious projects. He seems rather to have been one who followed circumstances with a certain adroit wariness, and to have found success not in courageous ambition but in a cautiousness which could be brave on occasions, especially when omens were propitious. To the last he was superstitious; his Christianity never reached the clear ethical conviction of a divine order; in him a lame regard for the outward symbol of the new faith allied itself with an essential

paganism of conception. There was not (says Mr Coleman) a great deal of difference between Constantine consulting the omens at the temple of Apollo at Autun, and Constantine seeking miraculous guidance in battle in his tabernacle, as described by Eusebius.'

If history is of any value, it ought at least to remind us that, where good seed is sown in a field which once grew a crop of tares, the tares will mingle with the wheat. There is a latent paganism which may be called a by-product of Christianity, and which is somewhat needlessly cultivated by clericalism. There was no soil more prolific of this by-product than that of Latium; in fact, we are tempted to ask whether it was ever eradicated from the soil. Christian teachers, moreover, soon found it an easier task to rename pagan customs than to convert pagan hearts; the Christianity which Constantine made popular was hardly better than a thin veneer, which concealed but did not disturb substantial paganism of conception. The conflict between paganism and Christianity ended as invasions have frequently ended; the defeated gave laws to the victors, and the outcome of the conversion of Constantine was the paganised Christianity which has always been more popular than the faith of Christ.

A further mischief was wrought when a vigorous impetus was given to clericalism. The officials of the Church gained, partly through the fact that they alone were educated, and partly because they were regarded as the successors of a pagan priesthood; the idea of clerical domination was acquiesced in, if not accepted; and the Forged Decretals were little more than the formulation of claims already existent if not conceded. When Dante bewailed the fatal gift of Constantine to the Church, he bewailed a misfortune greater than even he understood; but, if Dante failed to estimate fully the evil consequences-'di quanto mal fu matre. . . quella dote' ('Inf.' xix. 115)-his courage in denouncing it must be reckoned the greater when we remember, as Prof. Coleman reminds us, that the Donation was everywhere regarded as genuine. Dante put himself against the current of accepted opinion and against what claimed to be legalised, if not consecrated, authority. Dante's instinct was right; behind the glamour of a great name