"God the Father is in His substantial essence different from His Son," Aetius was saying with a smile and evident gusto, to the dismay of his hearers. "The Trinity has differentiations, degrees of glory, according to the nature of the personalities comprised in it. The word 'God' cannot be used of the Son, because He has never applied it to Himself. The Son has never even comprehended the essence of the Father, because it is impossible for Him who had a beginning to imagine that which has neither beginning nor end." "Blaspheme not!" shouted an indignant bishop. "Where is this Satanic boldness going to stop, my brethren?" "Drag not the simple-minded into perdition by your speeches!" shrieked another. "Prove me wrong by philosophic reasoning, and I will acquiesce. But shouts and insults are proof of nothing but impotence," replied Aetius calmly. "It is written in the Scriptures...." "What is that to me? God has given intelligence to man that He himself might be understood. I believe in logic of argument and not in texts. Reason with me on the basis of the syllogisms and categories of Aristotle...." And with a contemptuous smile he threw his surplice around him like the cynic mantle of Diogenes. Some bishops were beginning to speak in favour of a universal creed in which mutual concession should be made, when the Arian Narcissus of Neronia, a profound expert in all statutes, creeds, and canons of the councils, intervened in discussion. He was a man little liked, suspected of adultery and usury, but admired by everyone for his theological erudition. "That is a flat heresy!" he declared decisively. "Why is it a heresy?" demanded several voices. "Because the assizes of Paphlagonia have already so laid it down." "The assizes of Paphlagonia?" repeated the desperate bishops; "we had clean forgotten them. What is to be done now?" "May God have pity on us miserable sinners!" the good bishop Ozius was muttering; "I can no longer understand anything; I can't get out of the labyrinth; my head is buzzing, my ears singing with Greek words; I'm walking in a fog and don't know myself what I believe in and what I disbelieve; what is heresy and what is not.... Jesus help us!... We are falling into the snares of the Devil." At that moment the hubbub and clamour ceased. The bishop Ursatius of Singidion, one of the Emperor's favourites, mounted the tribune. He was holding in his hand a long scroll of parchment. Two _silentiarii_, having mended their fine pens of Egyptian reed, got ready to write down the conciliar debate. Ursatius read out the message of the Emperor to the bishops-- "Constantius, the triumphant, glorious, and eternal Augustus, to all bishops assembled in this council...." The Emperor demanded the dismissal of Athanasius, the patriarch of Alexandria, whom he called the most useless of men, the traitor, the accomplice of the insolent and abominable Magnentius.