(4) The literature produced and read by Christians was by this time hardly to be distinguished from literature in general. It differed only in name; the spirit was the same, if we leave out of consideration the texts of Scripture which the Christians interwove in their books. The legends of Apostles and Martyrs took the place of the old stories of gods and heroes, and adopted from the latter whatever element of fiction they could make serve their turn. The forms of epistolary and literary correspondence had already won full acceptance among Christians; their dedications, plots, titles, and headings were those of pagan literature. In this last connection we note particularly how ceremonious the “brethren” have become. Finally, educated Christians were familiar with the whole body of profane scholastic literature, derived their culture from it and used it for example and quotation. The shoot of Christian literature had been grafted on the stock of Hellenism, and the sap of it streamed through the new branch.
(5) With regard to public worship we note the following changes during the sixty years before the time of Constantine. In the first place the ritual became more solemn and mysterious; the prayers more studied and rhetorical; symbols and symbolic acts were multiplied; and secondly, there was an increased tendency to meet halfway the polytheistic leanings which swayed the Christian masses. This is indicated, on the one hand, by the constantly increasing importance attached to “intercessors” (angels, saints, and martyrs) both in public worship and in private life; and, on the other, by the “naturalisation” and differentiation of religious rites after the manner of pagan ceremonials. An observer watching a Christian religious service about the year 300 would hardly have realised that these Christians were monotheists, and in words proudly professed their monotheism and spiritual worship. Except the bloody sacrifice, they had adopted almost every part and form of pagan ritual ceremonial; and, in fact, the bloody sacrifice was not lacking, for the death of Christ and the celebration of the Lord’s Supper were dealt with in materialistic fashion as bloody sacrifices. They were fond of appealing to the Old Testament to warrant the innovations, and in virtue of this appeal nearly the whole pagan system of worship could be dragged into the church.
Chapels were dedicated to angels, saints, and martyrs and decorated on their festivals; a habit grew up of sleeping in churches or chapels in the expectation of holy dreams or miraculous cures; holydays were multiplied and differentiated more and more; superstitious ceremonies, usually associated with the holy cross or consecrated bread, were woven into the tenor of ordinary life; nor were charms in the name of Jesus or of holy men, nor even amulets wanting; wakes and banquets for the dead were celebrated; the relics of saints were collected and adored, etc. What more was lacking to complete the analogy with heathen cults? Was not a sagacious Roman statesman bound to confess that this church, with the form of divine worship it had adopted, met every religious need? And how then could he fail to wish that the senseless state of war that prevailed between state and church should come to an end? A monotheistic form of doctrine, combined with a worship so diversified, so adapted to every need—no better device could possibly be invented.
(6) In considering the church’s estimate of the state there are two points of importance to be observed. In the first place we note that Christians now began to profess that those emperors who had not shown active hostility towards the church, or whose personal piety had borne a certain kindred likeness to that of Christians, had really been Christians in secret. Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria (about 260 A.D.) merely repeats an opinion widely received when he states that Alexander Severus and Philip the Arab were Christians; of Philip it was even reported that he had on one occasion done penance at the bidding of a bishop.