ecclesiastical history. The great archbishopric of Egypt, which had hitherto maintained its superiority among the eastern diocesses, watched, with an envious eye, the growing influence of the new see of Constantinople, which was rapidly ascending to a rank next that of Rome; and the two successive prelates of Alexandria, who inherited the vices and the jealousy of Theophilus, had already shaken Nestorius and, after him Flavian, from the episcopal throne of the rival city, by means of some intricate questions concerning the union of the divine and human natures of Christ. All the East, from the Nile and the Bosphorus to the Euphrates, took sides for a long contest, in which honor and freedom were staked, and deposition and banishment were the penalty of failure. The artifices, the outrageous injustice, and shameless effrontery, which prevail in the most degenerate courts in times of violent faction, disgraced three General Councils,34 in quick succession, and procured for one of them, even in that age, an appellation which truly belonged to all, The Assembly of Robbers. The indignant spectator gladly turns from these deplorable scenes and we may only remark, that before the close of this century, the Nestorian, Eutychian and Monophysite heresies were successively condemned, as they arose, .35 34. At Ephesus, in A. n. 431; at the same place, in a. D. 449; and at Chalcedon, in A. D. 451. That in A. D. 449 is not reckoned, by the Catholics, among the General Councils, because the legates of the Pope were excluded. 35. Of this contest Gibbon (Decline and Fall &c. chap. xlvii.) has given a description to the life, which though slightly marked with his infidel irony, seems well supported, and does not differ, materially, from the narrative of the Catholic Fleury, (Eccl. Hist. Book xxv. and onwards.) and that amidst riots, intrigue, bribery, kicks and blows, was settled the present orthodox faith concerning the two natures of Christ that his divinity and humanity are most intimately united in one person, while they are nevertheless distinct. About XII. Near the close of the century, we find a single instance of Universalism, A. D. 500. in the remote country, however, of Mesopotamia, and beyond the bounds of the Roman Empire. At Edessa, about seventy miles east of the upper waters of the Euphrates, and twenty-six northwest of the ancient Haran,* the abbot Stephan Bar-Sudaili presided over a cloister of monks, and maintained a distinguished reputation among those Christians who held the simple unity of the divine and human nature of Christ. But deviating, at length, from the common faith of his brethren, he proceeded to teach that future punishments will finally come to an end; that wicked men and devils, having been purified, will obtain mercy; and that all things will be brought into unity with God, so that, as St. Paul expresses it, he shall become all in all.36 Whether he succeeded, to any extent, in propagating this doctrine among the churches of Mesopotamia and Syria, we are not informed. We only know that it soon called forth the complaints of some of his brethren, who stigmatized it as heresy ;37 and that he left *See Buckingham's Travels in Mesopotamia &c. chap. iii.-v. 36. Assemani Biblioth. Orient. Tom. ii. pp. 30-33, 291. See, too, Neander's remarks, Allgemeine Geschichte der christlich. Religion u. s. w. 2n. Band 3te. Abtheil. § 793-795. 37. Assemani Bib. Orient. Tom. i. p. 303. Tom. ii. pp. 30-33. Edessa, and went into Palestine, perhaps, to associate with the Origenists there. XIII. Nothing remains but to close with a passing notice of the Manicheans. Under this appellation, which had now grown somewhat indefinite, may be comprehended about all the Gnostic Christians of this century; for the Priscillianists, who were numerous in Spain, and a few Marcionites, scattered in various parts, were often classed, and not very improperly, with the more genuine followers of Mani, who lurked in every quarter of christendom. All of them had been led, by their intercourse with the Roman world, to modify their general system, and to omit some of their fables; but they always adhered to their fundamental doctrine of two original Principles, the distinct causes of good and evil. On one solitary point we may prefer their views to those entertained by a large part of the orthodox: they contemplaated Deity in the unchangeable character of universal and perfect benevolence. This important sentiment, together with their fanciful notion concerning the divine emanation of all souls, would naturally incline them to expect the eventual recovery of human nature; but how far they approached towards this conclusion, does not distinctly appear. They still retained enough of their oriental peculiarities to render them intolerable to the Greek and Roman sects; and, while the cruel laws of persecution compelled them to the most careful concealment, the sharp-sighted zeal of the bishops and governors often detected them through all their disguises. CHAPTER IX. [From A. D. 500, to A. D. 554.] 1. The opening scene of cur narrative lies in the barren solitude between Jerusalem and Bethlehem on the West, and the sunken coast of the Dead Sea, or lake Asphaltites, on the East. The wild and austere features of desolation, which pervade this mountainous desert, will readily occur to every one who has attentively studied the geography of Palestine. But it can scarcely be accounted a useless interruption, if we pause here to take a more careful and particular view of a region so full of interest, and which retains, to this day, nearly the same appearance it wore in the sixth century. Beginning our survey at the north-eastern extremity, and standing on some elevated spot, if such there be, in the fields adjacent to the once flourishing Jericho, we should find ourselves in the midst of an uneven plain, of great length and considerable breadth. Its fertility departed, ages ago, with the banished tribes, and left little remains on the parched surface, except a kind of spiny grass, and a few detached groves and plantations. Two leagues to the East, the plain is divided by the reedy and shrub-covered banks of the Jordan, whose turbid waters hasten along through a narrow channel towards their entrance into the Dead Sea. If we turn around, so as to face the north, we behold the level country lose itself in the distance. But close at hand appears the miserable village of Arab huts, which occupy a little space on the site of the ancient Jericho; and several spots of beautiful vegetation, here and there improved into gardens, mark the course which the streams from Elisha's Fountain, a little distant, still maintain through the surrounding barrenness. If we cast our eyes to the West, the huge, precipitous mountain of Quarantania, at the distance of only three miles, stands full before us, and lifts to heaven those naked cliffs, whence, tradition says, the tempter showed our Saviour all the kingdoms of this world. Looking past the southern side of the mountain, we discover, a little farther off, in the way to Jerusalem, the wild congregation of barren hills that form the boundary of the plain. Rising just behind the first range, are seen tops of rifted and shapeless mountains, among whose deep and tremendous ravines, lies, hidden from our view, the Desert of the Temptation. Far in the rear, beyond a succeeding tract of less elevation, and of less sterility, we might perhaps descry, through some fortunate opening, the low, triple summits of Mount Olivet, at the distance of eighteen miles to the southwest, shutting out the city of Jerusalem from the eastern prospect. As we turn round to the left, from the quarter of Mount Olivet, with our backs upon Jericho, the eye still ranges along the broken mass of hills, a few miles southward, where the plain terminates at their hases, or is invaded by their more advanced and sep |