Charles Ellicott Commentary 2 Thessalonians 2:3-12

"let no man beguile you in any wise: for [it will not be,] except the falling away come first, and the man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition, he that opposeth and exalteth himself against all that is called God or that is worshipped; so that he sitteth in the temple of God, setting himself forth as God. Remember ye not, that, when I was yet with you, I told you these things? And now ye know that which restraineth, to the end that he may be revealed in his own season. For the mystery of lawlessness doth already work: only [there is] one that restraineth now, until he be taken out of the way. And then shall be revealed the lawless one, whom the Lord Jesus shall slay with the breath of his mouth, and bring to nought by the manifestation of his coming; [even he], whose coming is according to the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, and with all deceit of unrighteousness for them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this cause God sendeth them a working of error, that they should believe a lie: that they all might be judged who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness." — 2 Thessalonians 2:3-12 (ASV)

EXCURSUS ON THE INTERPRETATION OF THE PROPHECY, 2 Thessalonians 2:3–12

To deal fairly with this difficult passage, we must strictly set aside all other New Testament passages that speak of a final manifestation of evil. Instead, reviewing the words simply as they stand, we must consider what St. Paul himself meant when he so diligently taught the Thessalonian church on this subject (2 Thessalonians 2:5), and what the Thessalonian church was likely to understand from his letter.

Although a passage like Hebrews 6:2 shows that the entire Apostolic Church was united in the eschatological instruction given to its converts at a very early stage, this unity is also evident in the writings of the most different schools of thought in the early Church (1 Timothy 4:1; James 5:3–7; 2 Peter 3:1–2; 1 John 2:18; 1 John 4:3; Jude 1:17, not to mention the Apocalypse). While Christians may fairly use these passages to explain one another, we must also put ourselves in the position of the young church of Thessalonica. They were expected by St. Paul to understand the significant hints of his letter with no other help than the recollection of his oral teaching and their observation of events. Therefore, we should likewise be able to catch these same hints through a similar knowledge of the history of the world at that time and of the sources from which St. Paul likely drew his doctrine of the “Last Things.”

I. Sources of the Apostolic Doctrine of the Last Things

St. Paul’s prophecy does not appear to be—at least, not exclusively—the result of a direct, internal revelation of the Spirit. Such direct revelations were made to him when necessary, and we have seen him claim that kind of inspiration in 1 Thessalonians 4:15. But God’s ordinary way of making prophets seems to be different. He gives those who are willing to see an extraordinary insight into the things that lie before the most ordinary eyes; He illuminates the meaning of occurrences or words that are externally familiar to everyone.

Even for doctrines like the true divinity or humanity of our Lord, the indwelling of the Spirit, or the Church’s mission, the Apostles do not rest solely on direct revelation to their own consciences. Instead, they dwell on the significance of historical facts (for example, Romans 1:4; 2 Peter 1:17) or, still more frequently and strongly, on the interpretation of Old Testament Scriptures (for example, Hebrews 1:8; Hebrews 2:12–13; 2 Peter 1:19). Therefore, if we can find material in the Old Testament that, taken in conjunction with our Lord’s own words, could have supplied St. Paul—or rather, the universal consensus of the early Church—with the doctrine of the Last Things as we find it in the apostolic writings, we will be justified in using those Old Testament materials to explain the New.

II. The Book of Daniel

We find such materials not only in the general warnings of Joel, Zechariah (Zechariah 14), and Malachi, but most clearly and definitely in the Book of Daniel. It is not necessary here to inquire into the date of that book. It is sufficient for our present purpose to know that it was much older than St. Paul’s time and was accepted as prophetic in the ordinary sense. In fact, there was probably no other book of the Old Testament that received so much attention among the Jews in the apostolic age. It was regarded with full reverence as an inspired revelation.

Our Lord Himself (according to Matthew 24:15 and Mark 13:14) either drew His own doctrine of the Last Things from it (humanly speaking) or at least used it emphatically for His disciples’ benefit as a corroboration. The taste for apocalyptic literature was very strong at this time, and the prophecies of Daniel attracted special attention, since the simplest interpretation of some of the most explicit ones pointed unmistakably to the time then present. As is well known, Tacitus (Hist. 5.13) and Suetonius (Vesp. 4) speak of the certainty felt throughout the entire East, about that time, that universal empire was on the point of passing into the hands of men of Jewish origin. This belief, says Tacitus, was “contained in the ancient literature of the priests”—that is, in the Scriptures they kept and expounded. There can be no doubt that first and foremost among those Scriptures stood the Book of Daniel. For every reason, then, we may well try to discover what a believing Jew of the apostolic age would make of the visions of Daniel, in order to shed light on this passage of St. Paul.

III. The Five Monarchies

Now, in the Book of Daniel there are four main predictions of what was then the future history of the world. These predictions are contained in Daniel 2, 7, 8, and 11. The first two visions, granted to Nebuchadnezzar and to Daniel respectively, both describe Five Monarchies that were successively to arise and flourish in the world. Amidst much that is a matter of controversy, three facts remain agreed upon by all: first, that the Five Monarchies of one vision are intended to correspond to the Five Monarchies of the other, each to each; second, that the earliest of these five represents the Babylonian empire, then existing, with Nebuchadnezzar at its head; and third, that the last of the series portrays the establishment of the Theocracy in its full development—that is, the “Kingdom of God” (which had been the main subject of St. Paul’s preaching at Thessalonica), or the visible government of the world by the Christ.

IV. The Fourth Monarchy

The question that most directly concerns us now is how to identify the Fourth of these monarchies. In Nebuchadnezzar’s vision, it was to be “in the days of these kings”—that is, the kings of the Fourth Monarchy, while it was still standing—that the Kingdom of Heaven was to come (Daniel 2:44). In Daniel’s vision, this Fourth Monarchy (or rather, its continuation and development) was to exist side by side with the saints of the Most High. A struggle was to take place between them and one outgrowth of the Fourth Monarchy before the final establishment of the Kingdom of the Saints (Daniel 7:25). What, then, was this Fourth Monarchy intended by the Seer (or by “the Spirit of the Christ,” 1 Peter 1:11) to represent? Or, to be still more practical, what was the received interpretation of this part of Daniel’s prophecy in St. Paul’s own day, among his own countrymen?

The question is not hard to answer. With indisputable clarity, Dr. Pusey has proved, in the second of his Lectures on Daniel the Prophet, the plausibility and detail with which the words concerning the Second and Third Monarchies may be applied to the Medo-Persian and Macedonian empires, respectively. If even this point is established, there can be no hesitation in naming the Fourth. It can only be the empire of Rome. But Dr. Pusey shows, with the same force, how applicable the description itself is to the Roman empire. Whether this interpretation has any ground in the original intention of the Prophet, or of Him who we believe spoke by him, is a matter of secondary importance for our present purpose.

We have already mentioned an unimpeachable piece of evidence furnished by two great Roman historians. In their days, it was a “long-established and uniform belief,” held not only in Judea but “in the whole of the East,” and drawn from Jewish literature, that a great Jewish empire was destined to appear. But that is not all. Such a belief might have been drawn from Numbers or Isaiah. But Suetonius adds, Eo tempore, “at that time”; Tacitus adds, Eo ipso tempore, “at that very time.” From what Jewish literature could the date have been determined, except from the calculation of the Seventy Weeks in Daniel? And since the same prophecy spoke of a worldwide empire, in the days of whose kings this new Jewish power was to arise, that same “long-established and uniform belief” must have recognized the Roman empire as the Fourth Monarchy that was to be shattered by it. This doubtless explains the hopefulness with which insurgent leaders rose one after another in rebellion against Roman arms. It was not only that they themselves were the Lord’s own people. Was not this vast system, “dreadful and terrible, and strong exceedingly,” definitely doomed in Scripture to utter extinction before their arms?

We also have less indirect testimony. The Jewish historian Josephus (Antiquities 10.11.7) speaks at length of the prophecies of Daniel and how he himself was watching their gradual verification. After mentioning the prophecy about Antiochus Epiphanes and its complete fulfillment, he adds: “In the very same manner Daniel also wrote concerning the empire of the Romans, and that our country should be made desolate by them.” He then passes on to speak of the comfort afforded by seeing God’s Providence so plainly, with true Jewish irony not disclosing that his comfort lay in the promised revenge upon Rome as well as upon Antiochus. In another place (Antiquities 10.10.4), he records the vision in the second chapter of Daniel. After describing the universal dominion of the Iron Kingdom, he proceeds: “Daniel also declared the meaning of the Stone to the king, but this I do not think proper to relate, as I have undertaken to describe things past and present, not things that are future. Yet if anyone is so very desirous of knowing truth as not to waive such curious points, and cannot refrain his desire to understand the uncertain future, and whether or not it will come to pass, let him give heed to read the Book of Daniel, which he will find among the Holy Scriptures.” No doubt can be entertained that this writer understood the Fourth Monarchy to be the Roman empire and did not wish to be suspected of encouraging sedition by speaking openly of its predicted downfall. This, then, was the common interpretation St. Paul must have learned from childhood: that Daniel’s Fourth Monarchy, which was to break up before the Kingdom of God, was the Roman empire.

V. The Fifth Monarchy

We may then assume that St. Paul believed Daniel to foretell the coming of the Kingdom of God in the days of the kings of the Roman empire. In one sense, the prophecy was already fulfilled. The Kingdom had already come. Heralded by the Baptist (Matthew 3:2 and following) and expounded by our Lord (Matthew 9:35 and following), it had been established by the Resurrection, the Ascension, and the sending of the Holy Spirit, while the Roman empire actually stood (Psalms 2; compare to Acts 4:25, 5:31, and 13:33). St. John regards the world as already virtually subdued in his own lifetime (1 John 5:4).

But the Church as it is presently constituted does not completely answer to Daniel’s prophecy of the Kingdom of the Saints. To the Christian, there are two comings of the Kingdom, not only one. In the Prophets, the two are fused into one. We may almost say the same of the words of Christ Himself. Even the apostolic writers do not separate the two as sharply as God has historically taught subsequent ages of the Church to separate them. The early Church lived in daily expectation of Christ’s return. For them, therefore, there was no difficulty in interpreting Daniel’s prophecies as applying at the same moment to the First and Second Advent. It would not be unfair, therefore, to assume that St. Paul expected the Second Advent to take place, as the First had done, “in the days of these kings” of the Fourth or Roman Monarchy.

VI. What Restrains

Turning now to St. Paul’s statement, we see that he is cautioning the Thessalonians not to expect the Second Coming of Christ immediately. He explains that, as they can see, a certain great power is still in the world, which (as they have been carefully taught) must be removed before the way for Christ’s return is open. This great power—with whose appearance his readers are perfectly familiar, though they may have forgotten its significance (“You know what is restraining”)—is summed up in a person who wields it. This person is “he who restrains.” His removal “out of the way” is still a future event, yet one destined to take place; and the date, though unknown to men, is fixed. The great opponent, who cannot develop as long as “he who restrains” remains, is to be revealed “in his own time”—that is, at the time which Divine Providence has assigned to him. It seems impossible to doubt that this great opponent is the same as the “Little Horn” of Daniel (whose “time” is very definitely marked out in Daniel 7:25), and that the power which restrains his development is the Fourth Monarchy of Daniel, and therefore, the Roman empire. A few considerations will make this latter point clearer:

1. There was only one power in the world at that time, represented by a single person, “in the midst” and before all eyes, of sufficient importance to restrain the development of Antichrist. It was the Roman empire and the Roman emperor.

2. The word rendered “restrains” does not necessarily imply that the restraining power actively, consciously, or designedly obstructs the way. Its presence in the midst is sufficient to meet the requirements of the word. Indeed, it might not even be necessary that Antichrist’s delay be directly caused by the obstruction; St. Paul might only mean that in prophecy the one thing was destined to come first, and therefore, as long as the first thing existed, it (in a manner) held the second back. Now if Antichrist is the Little Horn of Daniel, and the restraining power is the Fourth Monarchy, we get exactly what we need. For (unless the prophecy is to be falsified) before the Little Horn can spring up, the Fourth Monarchy must have so totally changed its appearance as to have passed into ten simultaneous kingdoms. Therefore, as long as the solid empire stood, it was a sign that Antichrist must wait.

3. Notice the extreme reserve with which St. Paul begins to speak on the subject. He does not teach, but prefers to appeal to their memory of words already spoken: “Do you not remember?” His clauses become intricate and ungrammatical—in strange contrast with the simple structure that characterizes these two Epistles. He names nothing, only hints. Nor can we account for this sudden ambiguity by saying that St. Paul is adopting the prophetic style, for his purpose is entirely practical. He wishes not to awe his readers, but to recall to them plain facts which they knew and had ignored. Now, recall the similar reticence of Josephus in speaking of the destiny of the Roman empire when it comes in contact with the Messianic Kingdom, and it will be felt almost impossible to doubt the truth of St. Chrysostom’s shrewd observations: “A person may naturally seek to know what ‘that which restrains’ is, and then, what possible reason St. Paul had for phrasing it so obscurely. What, then, is ‘that which restrains’—that is, hinders—him from being revealed? Some say it is the grace of the Spirit; others say it is the Roman Empire. I class myself among the latter. Why? Because if he had meant ‘the Spirit,’ he would not have spoken obscurely, but directly... Otherwise, Antichrist ought to have appeared by now, if he were to appear at the failure of those gifts; for, as a matter of fact, they have long since failed. But since he says this of the Roman Empire, he naturally put it enigmatically and very obscurely, for he had no wish to subject himself to unnecessary hostilities and unprofitable perils. For if he had said that the Roman Empire would soon be dissolved, they would have immediately executed him as an evildoer, and all the believers with him, as if they were living and fighting for this end.” Was it not, indeed, for expounding this very prophecy that he had fled for his life from Thessalonica? “These all do contrary to the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, one Jesus.” Does not the history give startling point to his question, “Do you not remember that when I was still with you I told you these things?”

VII. The Man of Sin

We have stated our belief that “the Man of Sin” is not only to be identified with Daniel’s “Little Horn,” but that St. Paul consciously drew the doctrine from that passage. But it may be objected that some of the words in which St. Paul most narrowly describes him are taken not from the description of the Little Horn in Daniel 7, but from that of the Little Horn of Daniel 8, which represents quite a different person, namely, Antiochus Epiphanes (see Daniel 8:11-12, 23-25, and more particularly Daniel 11:36-37). It might be thought, therefore, that St. Paul was only borrowing Daniel’s language and not adopting his prophecy. The answer is that even those prophecies of Antiochus do not suit Antiochus at all in many points. Not only so, but the Jewish expositors themselves held that Antiochus had not exhausted the meaning of the prophecy. They themselves applied it to some Antichrist, whose coming would precede, and be defeated by, the Christ’s.

Even in St. Jerome’s time, he noted this interpretation: “From this place onwards” (he is commenting on Daniel 11:36) “the Jews think that Antichrist is spoken of; that, after the little help (Daniel 11:34) of Julian, a king shall arise who shall do according to his own will, and lift himself up against all that is called God, and speak great things against the God of gods, so that he shall sit in the Temple of God and make himself God, and his will be performed, until the wrath of God be fulfilled: for in him shall the end be. This we, too, understand of Antichrist.” Thus, according to the current explanation of the Jews, Antiochus was looked upon as a type of the Antichrist, whom they expected to arise (in fulfillment of Daniel 7:8) at the overthrow of the Roman empire, and whose coming was to precede the Christ’s. The only change made by the Christian Church is to apply to the Second Advent a prophecy which the Jews applied to the one Advent which they recognized. It is impossible not to do so when, in Daniel 12:2, we have the Resurrection following close upon the development of this Antiochus-Antichrist. So far, then, as St. Paul’s date is concerned, the doctrine is drawn from Daniel 2 and 7; traits of character are added (in accordance with Jewish interpretation) from Daniel 8 and 11.

VIII. St. Paul’s Probable Personal Expectation

Dr. Lightfoot argues, with great probability, that, as a personal matter, St. Paul expected to witness in his own day the development of the Antichrist (whose “secret power” was already visible to him), and that he saw in the Jews the makings of the foe to be revealed. Theirs was the apostasy—professing to cling to God and to Moses, but “departing from the living God, through an evil heart of unbelief,” and “making the word of God of no effect through their traditions.” Theirs was the lawlessness—setting the will of God at naught in the self-willed assertion of their privilege as the chosen people, and using the most unscrupulous means of checking those who preached the more liberal gospel of St. Paul. And if to St. Paul the final Antichrist was represented by the Jews, the Roman Government, which had so often befriended him, might well be called the restrainer. If such was the personal expectation of St. Paul, it was, indeed, literally frustrated; but if the Judaic spirit of exclusive arrogance, carnal reliance on spiritual promises, and innovating tradition should pass into the Christian Church and there develop largely, St. Paul’s expectation would not be so far wrong.

IX. The Development of the Horns

The question naturally arises whether the prophecy has not been falsified. The Roman empire has disappeared, and Antichrist is not yet revealed. We do not need to answer with some interpreters that Roman law still rules the world. A closer observation of the two passages of Daniel already mentioned would in itself suggest the true answer. In Nebuchadnezzar’s vision, indeed, the Roman empire simply comes into collision with the universal Church and falls before it. There is no hint of a protracted struggle between them. The long duration of the Roman empire is perhaps suggested by the words, “You were watching until a stone...” (Daniel 2:34); the division into the Eastern and Western empires may be symbolized by the two legs of the colossal figure; the ten toes may bear the same interpretation as the ten horns of the later vision. These points, however, are not the most obvious or prominent points of the dream.

But in Daniel’s vision, all is quite different. There, the final triumph of the Church is won only after a long struggle, and that struggle is not with the Roman empire itself. Though the Beast which symbolizes the Roman empire is said to continue throughout (Daniel 7:11), it is only in the same sense, apparently, as the three other Beasts are said to have their lives prolonged (Daniel 7:12). The empire itself has altogether changed its form and developed into ten kingdoms, among which, yet after which (Daniel 7:8, 24), an eleventh has arisen, dissimilar from the other kingdoms, and uprooting some of them. It is with this power that the struggle ending in the Church’s final victory takes place, and not with the old imperial power of Rome. If, therefore, the dream of Nebuchadnezzar may be said to have been fulfilled in the first coming of Christ, in the days of the Roman emperors, the vision of Daniel must wait for its fulfillment until the Roman empire has passed away into an even more different form than it has at present reached.

X. Characteristics of Antichrist

1. He is a human being. The title “Man of Sin” excludes Satan, as Chrysostom remarks. Satan acts through the man (2 Thessalonians 2:9) to the full extent of his power—“enters into him,” as he entered into an earlier “Son of Perdition”—but does not destroy his humanity.

2. He is a single person. This, too, is involved in the phrase “Man of Sin,” especially when followed by the “Son of Perdition.” It is not to be denied that poetically the first title, at any rate, might be a personification of a movement, or (as the “kings” in Daniel mean “kingdoms”) the title of a wicked power, whose head might even be more innocent than his subjects. But not only is it simpler to understand the phrases themselves (especially the second) of a single person, but the sharp dramatic contrast between the Christ and the Antichrist seems to require a personal exhibition of evil. The Antichrist is to have a coming (2 Thessalonians 2:9) and a manifestation (2 Thessalonians 2:3), so as to be instantly recognized, and will display himself by significant acts (2 Thessalonians 2:4), all of which require a person. Besides, the types of him—Antiochus, Caligula, Nero, etc.—could hardly be said, according to Scriptural analogy, to be “fulfilled” in a mere headless movement. The application of the name “Man of Sin” to any succession of men (as, for instance, all the Popes of Rome) is peremptorily forbidden by the fact that the detection and destruction of the Man of Sin by the Advent of Christ follows immediately upon his manifestation of himself.

3. This person, though single, heads a movement. He is the captain of “the Apostasy.” He has a large and devoted following (2 Thessalonians 2:10). Indeed, though his dominion is “diverse” from other kingdoms, he is almost called a king in Daniel 7:24; the word, however, is (perhaps) carefully avoided. The diversity between his monarchy and theirs might, for instance, consist in its not being, like theirs, territorial or dynastic; it might be a spiritual or an intellectual dominion, interpenetrating the territorial kingdoms.

4. The movement of Antichrist is not atheistic. The Man of Sin exalts himself above every god, true or false, but it is not by denial of the Divine existence. On the contrary, he claims himself to be the true God and demands the homage due to the true God, thereby acknowledging the existence and working of God, which he claims have become his own.

5. The antichristian movement does not even break openly with the universal Church. It is an “apostasy,” indeed, but the same Greek word is used in Hebrews 3:12 and 1 Timothy 4:1, and in neither case will it suit the context to understand the word as an outward leaving of the Christian Church. The persons must at any rate have been Christians, or they could not be apostates. The apostasy is all the more terrible if, while the forms of the Church are kept, there is a departure from the inward spirit. In this case, several points seem to indicate an apostasy within the Church. First, as we have seen, the movement is distinctly not an atheistic one. Then, the act of sitting in the “Temple of God” can mean nothing else than an attempt to demand divine homage from the Christian Church, which, of course, could only be hoped for by adopting Christian forms. The account of the satanic miracles the Man of Sin will work to attest his claim shows that the persons who follow him are duped into believing that he actually is the Lord. An atheistic materialism would deny miracles altogether. Now we may venture to say that, even if St. Paul did not have St. Luke’s Gospel in his hands, he was familiar with the eschatological discourses of our Lord contained in the Synoptic Gospels. In these (which so frequently use the language of the Book of Daniel) our Lord holds up as the greatest terror of the last days the constant danger, threatening even the “elect,” of being seduced into mistaking certain pretenders for Himself. An Antichrist (in its full meaning) expresses more than an opponent of Christ; like the compound Anti-Pope, it implies a rival claimant to the honors which he himself acknowledges to be due only to Jesus Christ. Antichrist pretends to be actually Jesus. Such pretensions would, of course, be meaningless and ridiculous to all except believers in Jesus Christ and His Church (see Matthew 24:4-5, 10-12, 23, and 26, and the parallel passages in Mark and Luke). The same would even appear, on close inspection, to be the teaching of the Book of Daniel itself. The Church is “given into his hand” (Daniel 7:25), a much more powerful expression if the Church is constitutionally bound to him, and not accidentally subject as to a Decius or a Galerius.

6. Daniel’s Antichrist is characterized by ecclesiastical innovation. “He shall wear out the saints of the Most High, and shall intend to change times and law” (Daniel 7:25)—not to stamp Christianity out altogether, but to arbitrarily alter the Church’s worship and traditional constitution. The same departure from primitive tradition characterizes him in Daniel 11:37: “He shall pay no attention to the God of his fathers... a god whom his fathers did not know he shall honor.” The constant interpretation of “new gods” among the primitive Fathers is “new doctrines.” For, as a matter of fact, whatever materially alters our conception of God may be said to make us worship a different Being. The God of the extreme Calvinist, for instance, who creates millions of immortal beings for the express purpose of being glorified by their endless pains, can hardly be called the same as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. This arbitrary innovation is, in fact, the very feature St. Paul selects. It is the “lawlessness” or “rebellion” which marks both his movement (2 Thessalonians 2:7) and himself (2 Thessalonians 2:8). This lawlessness, or self-will, is perfectly compatible with exaggerated external reverence for laws and discipline, as is proved by Dr. Lightfoot. Other more obvious kinds of “sin” can hardly be said to characterize the Man of Sin, for (not to mention 1 Timothy 4:1, which refers expressly to Daniel) in Daniel 11:37 he is given an ascetic character. This spirit of innovation within the Church, which implies that his decree is as good as God’s and which finally leads him to claim divine honors from the Church, is his characteristic sin.

7. It may be added that the teaching of the Apocalypse is evidently drawn from Daniel, thereby corroborating our belief that St. Paul’s is also. Such an interpretation as is here suggested has almost the universal consent of the early Fathers, who almost all teach that the fall of the Roman empire will usher in the Antichrist, and that the Antichrist will be professedly Christian. Their testimony is valuable, since some of them seem not merely to be offering an exegesis of particular texts of Scripture, but recording a primitive tradition coeval with the New Testament.

XI. Identification of the Man of Sin

It is not solely a Protestant interpretation, but one which indirectly derives more or less support from several eminent names in past ages in communion with Rome (for instance, St. Gregory the Great and Robert Grosseteste), that the final Antichrist will be a Bishop of Rome. The present writer does not hesitate to assert his conviction that no other interpretation will so well suit all the requirements of the case. This is by no means the same as the vulgar doctrine that the Pope—that is, any and every Pope—is the Man of Sin. The Man of Sin has not yet made his appearance.

But the diversity and yet resemblance between his kingdom and the kingdoms of the world; the firm hand over the Church; the claims made upon her homage; the unrecognized movement of rebellion against God while He is still outwardly acknowledged (the “mystery of lawlessness”); the restless innovation upon the Church’s apostolic traditions; the uncompromising self-assertion: all these are traits that seem to indicate a future Roman pontiff more clearly than any other power we could at present point to. This is without having recourse to those more superficial coincidences which may be found in other commentaries.

To those who are familiar with the way modern Roman dogmas have been formed—exaggerations, at first condemned, becoming more and more popular, until they acquired the consistency of general tradition and were then stamped with authoritative sanction—and who now watch the same process at work in the popular theology of Italy and France, there would be nothing surprising in the literal fulfillment of the prophecies of Antichrist in some future Pope. Already one Divine attribute has been definitely claimed by and conceded to the occupant of the Roman See, in defiance of primitive tradition, and yet so plausibly as to suggest an implicit faith in God rather than an explicit denial of Him. Comparisons between the Life and Passion of our Lord and that of Pius IX formed a large proportion of the spiritual diet of foreign Roman Catholics towards the close of his pontificate. Even eminent prelates of the Roman obedience are reported not to have scrupled to use of the Papacy such phrases as “Third Incarnation of the Deity.” It would only be following analogies of “development” if, in process of time, these last exaggerations also should be formulated into dogma, as has been the case with the dogma of Infallibility, and some future Pope should in some way claim to be actually identified with Jesus Christ.