The dogmatism and incredulity of antiquaries may well be illustrated in the case of Mr T. Wright ("The Celt, the Roman, and the Saxon"). He disbelieves in all traces of Christianity said to be found among monuments of the Roman period; and his scepticism is thorough and comprehensive--more extreme in our opinion than the credulity which he denounces. He allows, indeed, the possibility of there having been some individuals among recruits and merchants and settlers who had embraced the truths of the Gospel, but with a qualification. He thinks the early allusions made by Tertullian, Origen, Jerome, and others are "little better than flourishes of rhetoric." The list of British bishops at the Council of Aries seems to him "extremely suspicious, much like the invention of a later period." He disbelieves the whole account of the Diocletian persecution having extended to Britain, even partially or locally. He doubts the authenticity of the work attributed to Gildas, though his objections have been met and set at rest, for most people, by such competent authorities as Dr Guest and others. But, as an instance of what I cannot but designate as far-fetched scepticism, we may note his explanation of the Christian monogram found on the pavement of a Roman villa at Frampton. He does not question its genuineness, but explains it by surmising that the beautiful villa had probably belonged to some wealthy proprietor, who possessed a taste for literature and philosophy, and with a tolerant spirit, which led him to surround himself with the memorials of all systems, had adopted, among the rest, that which he might learn from some of the imperial coins to be the emblem of Christ--Jesus Christ standing, in his eyes, on the same footing as Pythagoras or Socrates. Surely we have here a warning against the dogmatism which is often indulged in by archaeological experts, and it may be extended from monuments and remains to legends and traditions, which are often of great weight, even when they cannot be historically proved. It is not unnatural that many people should have become impatient and wearied of such purely negative criticism. CHAPTER II HISTORY OF THE CHURCH Before coming to the more immediate history of St. Martin's Church, we must say a few words about the Roman occupation of Canterbury, and the events preceding the landing of St. Augustine. The city is mentioned in the second "iter" of Antonine's Itinerary, under its ancient name of Durovernum or Duroverno, a word supposed to be compounded of _dour_, "water," and _vern_, which has been variously interpreted to mean "temple," "marshes," or "alders." Its position is described as fifty-two miles distant from London, fourteen from Dover, sixteen from Lympne, and twelve from Richborough; and the road from London to each of these last-named places divided itself at this point into three, crossing the ford of the River Stour, so that it would be a natural station for troops on the march.