It Was Here That I Suspended My

Theodosius Was Chaste And Temperate; He Enjoyed, Without Excess, The Sensual And Social Pleasures Of The Table, And The Warmth Of His Amorous Passions Was Never Diverted From Their Lawful Objects. The Proud Titles Of Imperial Greatness Were Adorned By The Tender Names Of A Faithful Husband, An Indulgent Father; His Uncle Was Raised, By His Affectionate Esteem, To The Rank Of A Second Parent.

The Triumph Of The Romans Was Indeed Sullied By Their Treatment Of The Captive King, Whom They Hung On A Gibbet Without The Knowledge Of Their Indignant General. This Disgraceful Act Of Cruelty Which Might Be Imputed To The Fury Of The Troops, Was Followed By The Deliberate Murder Of Withicab, The Son Of Vadomair; A German Prince, Of A Weak And Sickly Constitution, But Of A Daring And Formidable Spirit.

Yet The Experience Of Four Thousand Years Should Enlarge Our Hopes, And Diminish Our Apprehensions: We Cannot Determine To What Height The Human Species May Aspire In Their Advances Towards Perfection; But It May Safely Be Presumed, That No People, Unless The Face Of Nature Is Changed, Will Relapse Into Their Original Barbarism.

The Sectaries Of A Persecuted Religion, Depressed By Fear, Animated With Resentment, And Perhaps Heated By Enthusiasm, Are Seldom In A Proper Temper Of Mind Calmly To Investigate, Or Candidly To Appreciate, The Motives Of Their Enemies, Which Often Escape The Impartial And Discerning View Even Of Those Who Are Placed At A Secure Distance From The Flames Of Persecution.

The Gravest Of The Ecclesiastical Historians, Eusebius Himself, Indirectly Confesses That He Has Related Whatever Might Redound To The Glory, And That He Has Suppressed All That Could Tend To The Disgrace, Of Religion.