are certain habitable and fertile islands, with wholesome springs, provided with roadsteads and harbours, in which those who are overtaken by tempests may find refuge—­in like manner has God placed in a world tossed by the billows and storms of sin, congregations or holy churches, in which, as in insular harbours, the doctrines of truth are sheltered, and to which those who desire to be saved, who love the truth, and who wish to escape the judgment of God, may repair.” [282:2] These statements indicate that the gospel must soon have been very widely disseminated.  Within less than a hundred years after the apostolic age places of Christian worship were to be seen in the chief cities of the Empire; and early in the third century a decision of the imperial tribunal awarded to the faithful in the great Western metropolis a plot of ground for the erection of one of their religious edifices. [282:3] At length about A.D. 260 the Emperor Gallienus issued an edict of toleration in their favour; and, during the forty years which followed, their numbers so increased that the ecclesiastical buildings in which they had hitherto assembled were no longer sufficient for their accommodation.  New and spacious churches now supplanted the old meeting-houses, and these more fashionable structures were soon filled to overflowing. [282:4] But the spirit of the world now began to be largely infused into the Christian communities; the Church was distracted by its ministers struggling with each other for pre-eminence; and even the terrible persecution of Diocletian which succeeded, could neither quench the ambition, nor arrest the violence of contending pastors.

If we stand, only for a moment, on the beach, we may find it impossible to decide whether the tide is ebbing or flowing.  But if we remain there for a few hours, the question will not remain unsettled.  The sea will meanwhile either retire into its depths, or compel us to retreat before its advancing waters.  So it is with the Church.  At a given date we may be unable to determine whether it is aggressive, stationary, or retrograde.  But when we compare its circumstances at distant intervals, we may easily form a judgment.  From the first to the fourth century, Christianity moved forward like the flowing tide; and yet, perhaps, its advance, during any one year, was not very perceptible.  When, however, we contrast its weakness at the death of the Apostle John with its strength immediately before the commencement of the last imperial persecution, we cannot but acknowledge its amazing progress.  At the termination of the first century, its adherents were a little flock, thinly scattered over the empire.  In the reign of Diocletian, such was even their numerical importance that no prudent statesman would have thought it safe to overlook them in the business of legislation.  They held military appointments of high responsibility; they were to be found in some of the most honourable civil offices; they were admitted to the court of