ecclesiastical controversy and conjecture. A fragment here, an allegory there; romances of unknown authorship; a handful of letters of which the genuineness of every portion is contested inch by inch; the summary examination of a Roman magistrate; the pleadings of one or two Christian Apologists; customs and opinions in the very act of change; last, but not least, the faded paintings, the broken sculptures, the rude epitaphs in the darkness of the catacombs,—these are the scanty, yet, perhaps from their very scantiness, the attractive, materials out of which the early Church must be reproduced, as it was working its way, in the literal sense of the word, "under ground,"—under camp and palace, under senate and forum,—'as unknown, yet well known; as dying, and behold it lives.'
This chasm once cleared, we find ourselves approaching the point where the story of the Church once more becomes History—becomes once more the history, not of an isolated community, or of isolated individuals, but of an organized society incorporated with the political systems of the world. Already, in the close of the second and beginning of the third century, the Churches of Africa, now The African Churchesbright for a few generations before their final and total eclipse, exhibit distinct characters on the scene. They are the stepping-stones by which we cross from the obscure to the clear, from chaos to order.
But the first great outward event of the actual