of the poor.  At first the deacons, who seem to have been laymen, had charge of this money.  Paul was too busy a man himself to serve tables.  Gradually there arose the need of a superintendent, or overseer; and that is the meaning of the Greek word [Greek:  episkopos], from which we get our term bishop.  Soon, therefore, the superintendent or bishop of the local church had the control of the public funds, the expenditure of which he directed.  This was necessary.  As converts multiplied and wealth increased, it became indispensable for the clergy of a city to have a head; this officer became presiding elder, or bishop,—­whose great duty, however, was to preach.  In another century these bishops had become influential; and when Christianity was established by Constantine as the religion of the Empire, they added power to influence, for they disbursed great revenues and ruled a large body of inferior clergy.  They were looked up to; they became honored and revered; and deserved to be, for they were good men, and some of them learned.  Then they sought a warrant for their power outside the circumstances to which they were indebted for their elevation.  It was easy to find it.  What sect cannot find it?  They strained texts of Scripture,—­as that great and good man, Moses Stuart, of Andover, in his zeal for the temperance cause, strained texts to prove that the wine of Palestine did not intoxicate.

But whatever were the causes which led to the elevation and ascendency of bishops, the fact is clear enough that episcopal authority began at an early date; and that bishops were influential in the third century and powerful in the fourth,—­a most fortunate thing, as I conceive, for the Church at that time.  As early as the third century we read of so great a man as the martyr Cyprian declaring “that bishops had the same rights as apostles, whose successors they were.”  In the fourth century, such illustrious men as Eusebius of Emesa, Athanasius of Alexandria, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, Martin of Tours, Chrysostom of Constantinople, and Augustine of Hippo, and sundry other great men whose writings swayed the human mind until the Reformation, advocated equally high-church pretensions.  The bishops of that day lived in a state of worldly grandeur, reduced the power of presbyters to a shadow, seated themselves on thrones, surrounded themselves with the insignia of princes, claimed the right of judging in civil matters, multiplied the offices of the Church, and controlled revenues greater than the incomes of senators and patricians.  As for the bishoprics of Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and Milan, they were great governments, and required men of great executive ability to rule them.  Preaching gave way to the multiplied duties and cares of an exalted station.  A bishop was then not often selected because he could preach well, but because he knew how to govern.  Who, even in our times, would think of filling the See of London, although it is Protestant, with a man whose chief merit is in his eloquence?  They want a business man for such a post.  Eloquence is no objection, but executive ability is the thing most needed.