Constantine.—VI

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International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Apr 2, 1885

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 14.

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Constantine.—VI.

MOSHEIM also concedes a dream as the origin of the story, thus:—
“Nor do we think it sufficiently proved, that the divine power interposed here to confirm the wavering faith of Constantine by a stupendous miracle. The only hypothesis, then, which remains is that we consider this famous cross as a vision, represented to the emperor in a dream, with the remarkable inscription, Hac vince, i. e., in this conquer; and this opinion is maintained by authors of considerable weight.”—Eccl. His., pp. 79, 80.
But the editor of Mosheim thinks that in the above, he has conceded more than the facts will warrant, and considers it quite incredible. There has evidently been made an effort to make the supposition of the dream conform as nearly as possible to the story of the vision. It is indeed hardly supposable that, if he had a dream, he saw the inscription given. That was doubtless an after thought. Maclaine’s note to the above contains the following:—
“This whole story is attended with difficulties which render it both as a miracle and as a fact extremely dubious, to say no more. It will necessarily be asked, whence it comes to pass, that the relation of a fact, which is said to have been seen by the whole army, is delivered by Eusebius, upon the sole credit of Constantine? This is the more unaccountable as Eusebius lived and conversed with many who must have been spectators of this event, had it really happened. . . . The sole relation of one man concerning a public appearance, is not sufficient to give complete conviction; nor does it appear that this story was generally believed by the Christians, or by others, since several ecclesiastical historians, who wrote after Eusebius, particularly Ruffin and Sozomon, make no mention of this appearance of a cross in the heavens.”—Mosheim Eccl. His., pp. 79, 80.
And so also Keightley admits the dream only:—
“This legend is related by Eusebius, on the authority of Constantine himself; but his narrative did not appear till after the death of the emperor; and in his earlier work, the ‘Ecclesiastical History,’ he is silent respecting it. Another contemporary mentions only a dream, in which Constantine was directed, on the night before the battle with Maxentius, to inscribe the sacred monogram on the shields of his soldiers; and adds that his obedience was rewarded with victory. We take not on us to decide how much of fiction or of error there may be in the legend; but that no actual miracle was wrought we venture to affirm without hesitation, in accordance with our fixed opinions on the subject.”—History of Rome, p. 315.
No doubt Sozomon believed there was a dream as above stated, but no more. And Mosheim, “Historical Commentaries,” page 476, says, “Neither had Rufinus heard anything of it, for he likewise speaks only of a dream.” This renders it still more probable that a dream, by a fraud which was not considered sinful in those days and under those circumstances, was turned into a miraculous vision, to suit the purpose of the narrator.
Milman regards it in the same light in which it is presented by Socrates:—
“And so for the first time the meek and peaceful Jesus became a god of battle, and the cross, the holy sign of Christian redemption, a banner of bloody strife. This irreconcilable incongruity between the symbol of universal peace and the horrors of war, in my judgment, is conclusive against the miraculous or supernatural character of the transaction.”
“If at this time Christianity had obtained any hold upon his mind, it was now the Christianity of the warrior, as subsequently it was that of the statesman. It was the military commander who availed himself of the assistance of any tutelary deity who might insure success to his daring enterprise. Christianity, in its higher sense, appeared neither in the acts nor in the decrees of the victorious Constantine after the defeat of Maxentius.”—Page 288.
This idea of adopting a “tutelary deity” who should be propitious in battle, was purely pagan. And there is sufficient evidence that Constantine did not renounce this pagan view while fighting under the labarum or sign of the cross. It was not to him an emblem of peace, but a pledge of conquest, a token of victory.
We have said that such a dream was only probable, as furnishing an explanation of the origin of the story. But there is no certainty that even that was a fact of occurrence. Waddington thinks the emperor himself was deceived by some appearance which his enthusiasm, perhaps by the weakness of sickness or passion, or the excitement of events, converted into a miracle. Of this idea he says:—
“It is the only supposition which can save both the intention of the emperor, and the veracity of the historian.”—Eccl. His., p. 83.
But this will be hard to accomplish, put whatever construction upon the story we will. For if Constantine and his army did not actually see this day vision, how was it possible for him to be deceived so as to believe that they did? It would hardly be possible to save the emperor’s reputation, even allowing the fact of the dream. On the other hand, if the vision was seen by Constantine and his whole army, how could it be that Eusebius should be ignorant of it for about twenty-five years from its occurrence, and then learn it only from Constantine? And how, then, should all his contemporaries be dependent on him for a knowledge of it. Look at it in any light we please, it bears on its face the evidence of fraud on the part of Constantine, and great credulity if not duplicity on the part of Eusebius.
The reader may have noticed, in a quotation given from Waddington, that that historian says Eusebius “does not even profess those rigid rules of veracity which command universal credit.” This is an impeachment of Eusebius which may surprise many who have been accustomed to regard the testimony of Eusebius as reliable beyond all question. But before blaming Waddington for this statement it would be well for the defender of Eusebius to consider well whether it is possible to extricate the eminent bishop from the dilemma in which he has placed himself by his version of the story of the vision of the cross. We do not ask merely what may be probable, but what view of it is possible by which he may be rescued from the reproach of having sacrificed the truth upon the shrine of his hero? And from this we turn to find other historians taking as strong ground against the reliability of Eusebius as does Waddington. Gibbon, in a quotation already given, says:—
“And the courtly bishop who has celebrated in an elaborate work the virtues and piety of his hero, observes a prudent silence on the subject of these tragic events.”
Certainly it is not the part of a faithful and candid chronicler of events to pass over such actions, and those so well known, as Constantine’s unnatural slaughter of the members of his own family. Neander ascribes the course of Eusebius to the fact that he was so blinded by the favor of Constantine, and the splendor of his court, that he really believed the emperor was specially inspired! But he who is so blinded by pomps or favors that he cannot discern the criminality of such acts as Constantine was guilty of as late as 326, can scarcely be relied upon to guide in a just view of interesting and important events. Or, if he was not blind to the criminality of those things, he is still more worthy of blame in passing over the crimes in silence and lauding the perpetrator as a pure Christian and inspired warrior and statesman.
It appears, not from a single statement of a single historian, but from the oft-repeated statements of many historians, that Eusebius was so carried away by the supposed benefit that Constantine was conferring on Christianity, and the personal favors bestowed on himself, by the emperor, and so far lost sight of the purity of the gospel and the strictness of Christian principles, as to greatly injure his own reputation as a historian. Thus the “Encyclopædia Britannica” says of him:—
“He was undoubtedly more of a courtier than was becoming in a Christian bishop, and in his ‘Life of Constantine’ has written an extravagant panegyric rather than a biography of the emperor.”
With Constantine’s crude or confused notions of Christianity, with his commingling of pagan and Christian rites, as it is well agreed that he did, most of his public career, if not to the very last year of his life, with his policy of making everything subserve his own interests, we cannot be surprised that he both practiced and advised deception when it favored his plans. Theodoret thus speaks of his address to the bishops of the council of Nice:—
“He said that the crimes of priests ought not to be made known to the multitude, lest they become an occasion of offense or of sin. He said also that if he had detected a bishop in the very act of committing adultery he would have thrown his imperial robe over the unlawful deed, lest any should witness the scene and be thereby injured.”—Theodoret, p. 46.
When we see that the influence of this advice has not been lost upon the church even unto this day; when we consider how many in this age of light plead against faithfully exposing the sins of professed ministers of Christ, lest the gospel faith should thereby receive an injury, we are not surprised that the words of the emperor, who was regarded almost as an oracle by the bishops, should have been received as wise and prudent, and acted upon. Eusebius was as likely as any to follow in the wake of his imperial master. And we are not left in this matter to a supposition, as the following shows:—
“In describing the sufferings of the Christians during the last persecution, Eusebius admits that it does not agree with our plan to relate their dissensions and wickedness before the persecution, on which account we have determined to relate nothing more concerning them than may serve to justify the divine judgment. We have, therefore, not been induced to make mention either of those who were tempted in the persecution, or of those who made utter shipwreck of their salvation, and were sunk of their own accord in the depths of the storm; but shall only add those things to our general history which may in the first place be profitable to ourselves, and afterwards to posterity! And in another passage he asserts that the events most suitable to a history of martyrs, are those which redound to their honor.”—Waddington, Eccl. His., p. 90.
There are few writers who seem to have given more easy credence to the statements of Eusebius than Guericke, yet he is constrained to speak of him as follows:—
“It is to be regretted that this oftentimes wavering and weak, yet great emperor—who, under the impulse of passion, was guilty even of the murder of his son Crispus and of his own wife Fausta—could not have had the plain warnings, and evangelical instructions of a bolder and less dazzled spiritual guide than was the bishop Eusebius.”—Page 243.
Neander says:—
“We should remark that Eusebius was strongly inclined to turn everything to the advantage of his hero.”—Vol. 2, p. 6.