Sometime between a.d. 176 and a.d. 180 Athenagoras, a Christian, an amateur philosopher and possibly an Athenian, wrote a Plea addressed to the emperors Marcus Aurelius and Commodus. This document is marked by a carefully controlled apologetic aim unmarred by crude efforts to convert and is remarkable for the positive attitude it shows toward the Roman emperors and the administration of justice throughout their realm. Athenagoras' apology was lost sight of in antiquity, in all likelihood, because it contributed so little to theology; precisely for the same reason it is valuable to us in our assessment of the political and social awareness of a segment of Christians shortly before the empire plunged into the troubles of the third century. Athenagoras was obviously well trained in rhetoric; he had dabbled in philosophy; and he clearly felt himself culturally superior to the “common men, artisans, and old women” whom he praises for their simple, if unreasoned, display of Christian virtue (11.4). He is representative of a growing elite in Christian circles which was seeking to explain the new religion to the Graeco-Roman world.

During the twelfth century the papacy in the interest of peace within the Christian community gradually took a more active part in the mediation and settlement of secular disputes. Innocent III regarded such mediation as an obligation of his office, and throughout his pontificate he sought to promote more harmonious relations among Christian princes. In his correspondence he referred on several occasions to the words of the Psalmist, “…seek peace, and pursue it.” He often cited Christ's counsels of peace as in the Gospel of John, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you.” At the beginning of the thirteenth century peace was not only a worthy end in itself; it could have the additional advantage of freeing the European princes to fight as crusaders in a cause which Innocent zealously fostered.

A good deal of literature has dealt with the relationship between the works of John Wyclif and John Hus. It seems clear now that John Hus did not simply parrot Wyclif as Johann Loserth argued in the nineteenth century, but rather he was the product of a native Bohemian reform movement. He regarded Wyclif as a fellow reformer and was reliant on him for much of his realist philosophy and ecclesiology but was largely independent of Wyclif in matters of dogmatic theology. Concerning the eucharist, for example, Hus clearly accepted the Roman doctrine of transubstantiation rather than Wyclif's remanence.

For the past century and a half most scholars engaged in the study of French Quietism have hesitated to focus primarily on its founder, Madame Jeanne-Marie Bouvières de la Mothe Guyon. Instead, their investigations have gravitated toward her champion, François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon, who emerged as a far more significant figure in the Quietist controversy once it began to take definitive form in 1693.

Modern scholars generally agree that the Indemnity Acts of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries were enacted to afford legal relief to religious nonconformists from the restrictions placed upon them by the Test Act of 1673 and the Corporation Act of 1661. The oaths required by this legislation were a means of debarring religiously and politically seditious individuals from offices, in national government in the case of the Test Act and from corporation government in that of the Corporation Act. Both acts required the taking of “the several oaths of supremacy and allegiance” in addition to the “sacrament of the Lord's Supper according to the usage of the Church of England.” To qualify under the Test Act the sacrament had to be taken in a public church on a Sunday “immediately after divine service and sermon…” within three months of admission to office. The Corporation Act differed significantly in its requirement that the sacrament had to have been received in the year preceding election to corporate office.

In the successive waves of “No Popery” which ebbed and flowed until the middle of the nineteenth century in British public life, the role played by the oldfashioned identification of the pope of the Roman Catholic Church with Antichrist is not easily discernible. Yet its presence is undeniable, though rarely on the surface or on the lips of those who, in the ordinary sense, “made history.” A study of the background and setting of John Henry Newman's thought on the papacy and the Antichrist has led me to uncover a neglected field of popular and cultured Antichrist thinking which helps to account for the persistence of “No Popery” sentiment in Christian history after its demise had been prematurely announced by more than one reasonable and enlightened politician.

Congregational minister and onetime home missionary Josiah Strong (1847–1916) is perhaps best known for his militant advocacy of American expansion. He was also, however, an early leader of the Social Gospel movement who urged the reform of society to cope with the problems of an industrial era. Throughout the thirty-year period during which Strong set forth his views in print (1885–1915) expansion and reform were important themes in his thought, although significant changes appeared in his treatment of both; this was symptomatic of a basic attitudinal shift toward American society.