READING HALL "THIRD MILLENNIUM LIBRARY"

HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH FROM THE APOSTOLIC AGE TO THE REFORMATION A.D. 64-1517

BOOK III

FROM THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR THEODOSIUS I TO THE PONTIFICATE OF GREGORY THE GREAT.

A.D. 395-590.

 

CHAPTER I.

ARCADIUS AND HONORIUS.—ORIGENISTIC CONTROVERSY.— ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.

 

Theodosius left two sons,—Arcadius, aged eighteen, and Honorius, who was only eleven years of age; the elder succeeded to the sovereignty of the elder succeeded to the sovereignty of the East, and after this division the empire in its full extent was never again united. The reigns of these imbecile princes were full of calamity. Themselves incapable of governing, each of them was subject to a succession of too powerful ministers and generals. Of these, Stilicho alone, the general of Honorius, possessed the qualities which were requisite for the support of the empire. In 403 he defeated Alaric the Goth at Pollentia, in Liguria; but five years later, at the very time when his abilities were most urgently needed to meet a renewal of the Gothic invasion, he fell a victim to the arts of a rival, Olympius. Rome was thrice besieged by the Goths. The first siege was raised by the payment of a large ransom; the second resulted in Alaric's setting up as emperor a puppet, Attalus, whom he afterwards deposed in disgust at his incapacity; in the third, the city was taken and sacked. Throughout this period we read of revolts in various provinces, of insurrections of the barbarians who had been admitted within the Roman territory, and of invasions by fresh hordes from the countries beyond. These invasions fell more especially on the western division of the empire. In 404, Honorius, finding himself exposed to the Goths at Milan, removed to Ravenna, which for the next three centuries continued, throughout all the changes of government, to be regarded as the capital of Italy.

In 408, Arcadius was succeeded by his son Theodosius II, a child seven years old. The young prince was at first under the guardianship of Anthemius, and from 414 under that of his sister Pulcheria, who for nearly forty years held the virtual sovereignty of the east. Honorius reigned till 423.

The weakness of the government, the irruptions of the barbarians, and the changes in the administration, prevented the adoption of any sustained and uniform policy for the suppression of paganism. Both in the east and in the west laws were repeatedly issued for the abolition of sacrifices, and for the confiscation of such allowances and endowments as had hitherto been left to the heathen priesthood; but the necessity of frequent re-enactment shows, no less than the occasional relaxations of these laws, that they were very imperfectly executed. It is a significant circumstance that heavy penalties are often threatened against magistrates who should neglect to enforce them; as if the government knew that there were many among its local officers from whom in such a cause it could not expect any willing service. In 408, under the administration of Olympius, Honorius published a law by which all but the professors of orthodox Christianity were excluded from employment about the court. But it is said that Generid, commander of the troops at Rome, one of the barbarian chiefs on whose arms the degenerate Romans then depended, indignantly cast away the ensigns of his command, refused any exemption which should not extend to other heathens, and terrified the emperor into a hasty repeal of the enactment. In the east, however, similar laws were passed both by Arcadius and by the younger Theodosius.

Towards the end of the fourth century a tale was current among the pagans, that St. Peter had by magical arts discovered that Christianity was to last for 365 years, and was then to perish. The period was completed in 398, and the hopes of the heathen party had risen high; but they were disappointed, and other disappointments followed. The barbarian leader Radagaisus, who, as being himself a heathen, had engaged their sympathies, was overthrown by Stilicho. When Alaric first laid siege to Rome, the pagan members of the senate ascribed the calamities of the empire to the neglect of the rites by which their fathers had obtained the favour of the gods, and had raised their country to its height of glory. It is said that some Tuscan soothsayers, who professed to have saved Narni from the invader by drawing down lightnings for his discomfiture, undertook to deliver Rome in the same manner through the use of incantations and sacrifices. Even the bishop, Innocent, is stated by a heathen writer to have consented to the experiment, provided that it were made in secrecy, preferring the safety of the city to his own opinion. The Tuscans, however, insisted, as an essential condition, that the rites should be performed with all form and publicity, in the name of the state and with the attendance of the senate; and as the senators refused to give this kind of sanction to idolatry, the soothsayers were dismissed. This tale has probably no other foundation than that the pagans wished to take advantage of the public danger in order to attempt a restoration of their religion. Attalus, although baptized into Arianism, courted them by re-establishing the ancient rites; but their joy was soon checked by his deposition.

The barbarian irruptions were, in truth, greatly injurious to paganism. There was no instance of barbarians embracing the old religion of Greece or Rome; they either adhered to the superstitions of their own ancestors, or adopted some form of Christianity. Alaric and his Goths, who were Arians, directed their wrath against heathen temples even more zealously than the Christians of the empire. It is from Alaric's invasion of Greece that the suppression of the Eleusinian mysteries is dated. In the capture of Rome temples were attacked, while churches were reverenced and those who sought a refuge in them were spared; and some, at. least, of the Gothic soldiers manifested in their behaviour towards the defenseless some influence of the religion which they professed. The Christians saw the vengeance of God in the calamities which fell on Rome; they had a story that Alaric, while on his march, was entreated by a holy monk to spare the city, and answered that he did not go of his own will, but that One was continually urging him forward to take it. The pagans, on their side, referred all the miseries of the time to Christianity—a theory which St. Augustine combated in many sermons, and in refutation of which he undertook his great work “Of the City of God”, written between the years 412 and 426. With the same view Orosius, a Spaniard, at Augustine's desire, drew up about 417 a compendium of universal history, in which he argued that earlier ages had been as calamitous as his own, and had been the more wretched in so far as they were without the remedy of true religion.

Paganism yet lingered long. In the east, Theodosius, in a law of A.D. 423, affects to question whether it still had any adherents; but the doubt is refuted by clear evidence of facts. The chief strength of the old religion, however, lay in the west. In some districts its spirit was still so powerful, that Christians who attempted to execute the laws against temples and idols were killed by the exasperated heathens. In many places where the religion of the gospel was professed, the old tutelary gods still held their position; and besides the great infusion of a pagan spirit into the Christianity of the time, many purely heathen ideas and usages were yet retained among Christians. The conformity of proselytes was often merely outward; for, as the adherents of the old religion were not generally disposed either to suffer for its sake, or to forego the advantages which were connected with a profession of the new faith, many of them submitted to be baptized, and afterwards, when occasion served, again declared themselves pagans. Hence arose the necessity of those frequent enactments against apostasy which would appear unaccountable if the apostates had ever been really Christians.

Africa was a chief stronghold of paganism, and there the distractions of the Donatistic schism told in its favour. St. Augustine advised a gentle mode of dealing with the worshippers of idols as most likely to be effectual. “First”, he says, “we endeavour to break the idols in their hearts. When they themselves become Christians, they will either invite us to the good work of destroying their idols, or will anticipate us in it. Meanwhile we must pray for them, not be angry with them”. He complains that Christians took part in heathen ceremonies and rejoicings. A council held at Carthage, in 399, solicited the emperor to suppress certain banquets which were among the principal means of keeping up the old religion; and also to order the destruction of all remains of idolatry, together with the temples which were in rural places. The government was not yet prepared for such measures; in the same year orders were issued that the public rejoicings should be celebrated, although without sacrifices or superstition, and that such of the temples as contained no unlawful things should be left uninjured. But nine years later, in a law intended for the whole empire, the banquets were forbidden, and the bishops were authorized to suppress all monuments of idolatry. Such of the temples as were not ornamental in their architecture were demolished. It was ordered that those in cities or suburbs should be applied to public uses; many were shut up, and remained vacant until the Christians took possession of them and converted them into churches.

The old Roman aristocracy, which had clung to the religion of its forefathers more from pride than from conviction, was scattered by the taking of Rome. Many of its members emigrated to their possessions in Africa, Egypt, or elsewhere, and the pagan interest suffered in consequence. But in the rural parts of Italy—notwithstanding the law of the year 408, already mentioned, by which landlords were ordered to destroy temples on their estates—the ancient worship subsisted, until at a later time it was followed into its retreats and extirpated by the labour of the monks.

The abolition of the gladiatorial shows at Rome, against which Christian teachers had long inveighed and pleaded in vain, is referred to the reign of Honorius. When the emperor, after the victory of Pollentia, was celebrating a triumph with games of this kind, Telemachus, an eastern monk, who had made a journey to Rome for the purpose of protesting against them, leaped into the arena, and attempted to separate the combatants, but was stoned to death by the spectators, who were enraged at this interference with their amusement. The emperor acknowledged that such a death deserved the honours of martyrdom, and, with the willing acquiescence of his people, whose fury had soon given way to repentance, he abolished the inhuman spectacles.

The disputes as to the opinions of Origen, which had begun during his lifetime, continued after his death. The martyr Pamphilus, in conjunction with Eusebius of Caesarea, wrote a defence of him. In the great controversy of the fourth century, his name was frequently mentioned, and the tendency of his doctrines was much disputed; for, while the Arians wished to claim his authority, and some of their extreme opponents, such as Marcellus of Ancyra, styled him the father of Arianism, his orthodoxy was maintained by St. Athanasius and other champions of the catholic faith. So long as Arianism and the doctrines connected with it engrossed all attention, the opinions of Origen on other subjects did not come into question. His writings exercised an important influence among the teachers of the eastern church; but, although these were in general content to draw instruction from him, without regarding him as faultless, there were two extreme parties, by one of which he was rejected as a heretic, while the other was unreservedly devoted to him. Thus, while the monks of Nitria found in his works provision for their mystic and spiritualizing turn of mind, Pachomius warned his disciples against Origen as the most dangerous of seducers, whose doctrines would conduct the reader to perdition.

In the west Origen was known only by name, but the general impression was unfriendly to him. Jerome attempted to introduce him more favourably by translating some parts of his writings and embodying them in commentaries on the Scriptures. In a letter written during his residence at Rome, he speaks with enthusiastic praise of the “indefatigable Alexandrian”, and says that he had been condemned at Rome, “not for the novelty of his doctrines, not for heresy, as mad dogs now pretend against him, but because his enemies were unable to endure the glory of his eloquence and learning”. After his final retirement to Bethlehem, Jerome renewed an acquaintance of earlier days with Rufinus, a native of the diocese of Aquileia. Rufinus had lived eight years in Egypt, where he visited the monks, studied under the blind Didymus, and suffered in the persecution of Valens. He had now settled on the Mount of Olives in company with Melania, a noble and pious Roman widow, and had been ordained presbyter by John, bishop of Jerusalem. Jerome became very intimate with him, and celebrated his virtues in terms which are even extravagant; and the friends agreed in admiration of Origen.

In the year 393, a pilgrim from the west, named Aterbius, arrived at Jerusalem, where, as he had been accustomed to hear the name of Origen connected with disrepute, he was astonished at finding that it was held in high honour. In a frantic manner, according to Jerome, he charged Rufinus with Origenism, and, knowing the intimacy which existed between the two, he included Jerome in the accusation. Jerome, keenly sensitive to his reputation for orthodoxy, disavowed the imputation with great eagerness, saying that he had read Origen only in the same way as he had read the works of heretics; while Rufinus refused to have any communication with his accuser, and confined himself to his own house until Aterbius had left Jerusalem.

Soon after this affair, Jerusalem was visited by Epiphanius, bishop of Constantia (formerly Salamis), in Cyprus, and metropolitan of that island. Epiphanius had been educated as a monk, and was then more than eighty years of age. He was a man of vast reading, which extended to the Greek, Syriac, Hebrew, Egyptian and Latin languages, and he enjoyed an extraordinary popular fame for sanctity, so that miracles and prophecies were ascribed to him; but both his conduct and his remaining works prove him to have been injudicious, weak, vain, narrow-minded, and obstinate. In his work on Heresies, he had spoken very strongly against. Origen, whom his character and his education alike unfitted him to appreciate; and he was connected by friendship with Jerome, who had spent some time with him in Cyprus while on his way from Rome to the east.

Epiphanius, on his arrival at Jerusalem, accepted the hospitality of the bishop, John, and behaved with courtesy to Rufinus. The Origenistic question had not been mentioned between him and his host, when Epiphanius. in preaching at the church of the Resurrection, broke out into a violent invective against Origenists, which was evidently intended to reflect on the bishop. Jerome reproaches John with having indecently expressed his impatience by looks and gestures, and states that he sent his archdeacon to beg that the preacher would not pursue the subject. As the two bishops proceeded to the church of the Cross, where another service was to be held, it was difficult to make way through the multitudes who crowded round Epiphanius, kissing his feet, touching the hem of his garment, and holding out children to receive his blessing. These displays of reverence, it is said, excited the envy of John, and at the service which followed he preached against anthropomorphism, apparently with an intention of charging Epiphanius with that error, which was not uncommon among the extreme opponents of Origen. The old man, when it came to his turn to speak, declared that he approved all which had been said by John; that he condemned anthropomorphism; and in return he required that John should anathematize Origenism.

The dispute thus commenced became more and more vehement. Epiphanius, in high displeasure on account of a sermon which John had preached, left Jerusalem and repaired to Bethlehem. He afterwards wrote to Jerome’s monks, charging them to break off communion with their bishop; and in the diocese of Eleutheropolis he forcibly ordained Paulinian, brother of Jerome, to the offices of deacon and presbyter, for the purpose of ministering to the monks of Bethlehem. John strongly protested against this invasion of his episcopal rights, and a fierce controversy followed, which involved questions of doctrine, discipline, and personal conduct. The errors attributed to Origen were classed under eight heads. He was charged with heretical views on the relations of the Divine Persons; with strange and unsound opinions as to the pre-existence of souls, the salvation of the devil and evil spirits, the resurrection of the dead, the condition of man before and after the fall; and with singular allegorical misinterpretations of Scripture, extending even to the denial of its literal truth. Jerome attacked Rufinus and John with all his acrimony. He complained that the bishop did not fairly meet him; that he attempted to answer only three out of the eight charges, and that, instead of discussing the question of doctrine, he dwelt continually on the irregularity of Paulinian’s ordination. It was in vain that Archelaus, count of Palestine, and Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria, attempted to interpose as mediators; but at length, as Rufinus was about to leave the Holy Land in 397, he and Jerome went through a solemn form of reconciliation at the altar of the church of the Resurrection.

The quarrel, however, was soon revived. Rufinus took up his abode at Rome, where a friend, who was engaged on a work against astrology, inquired of him what were Origen's opinions on that subject—being himself unacquainted with Greek. On this Rufinus translated the Apology of Pamphilus, and Origen’s own treatise De Principiis, the most questionable and suspected of all his writings. The translation (by which alone the greater part of the book is now known) was made on an extraordinary principle. As Origen had himself complained that his works were falsified, Rufinus assumed that the suspicious passages were the interpolations of heretics, and altered them so that they might accord with his own views of orthodoxy, and with other passages of the author’s writings. In answer to the presumption of falsification, Jerome well remarked that Pamphilus and Eusebius had not used any such plea in their defence of Origen; nor was it justifiable by such means to reduce Origen to consistency with himself, inasmuch as he not only may have varied in opinion during his long life, but is known to have held that the difference in character between exoteric and esoteric teaching would warrant a difference of statement. After having avowedly subjected the text to his violent editorial process, Rufinus somewhat inconsistently adjured readers and copyists, in the name of God and by the thought of the resurrection and of eternal fire, to make no omission, addition, or change of any kind in the reformed De Principiis.

Jerome, whose old fondness for Origen had been invidiously mentioned by Rufinus in his preface, was urged by his friends Pammachius and Oceanus to exhibit the Alexandrian in his true character by means of a more faithful translation; and he complied with their desire. In a letter to those who had suggested the task, he earnestly disclaimed the suspicion of Origenism. “I praised him” (he says) “as an interpreter, not as a dogmatic teacher; for his genius, not for his faith; as a philosopher, not as an apostle... If you believe me, I never was an Origenist; if you do not believe me, I have now ceased to be one”. The question now was, not whether certain opinions were sound, but whether Origen had held them, and whether his admirers continued to hold them, notwithstanding all protestations contrary.

Finding that, although his explanations were satisfactory to Pope Siricius and to other Italian bishops, his position at Rome was rendered intolerable through the influence of Jerome, Rufinus retired to Aquileia, bearing with him a letter of recommendation from Siricius, who died shortly after (Nov. 26, 398).

The next bishop of Rome, Anastasius, was solicited to take up the subject by Theophilus of Alexandria, who had now declared himself against Origenism; while at home he was stimulated by the importunities of Marcella and others (chiefly pious and noble ladies), who were under the direction of Jerome. In consequence of these applications, Anastasius summoned Rufinus to Rome; and, on his alleging that family reasons detained him at Aquileia, the bishop, without pronouncing against Rufinus himself, condemned Origen and the translations from his works— declaring that, until these appeared, he had neither known who Origen was nor what he had written. The letter which contains this judgment also mentions an imperial order (of which nothing is otherwise known) against reading the Alexandrian’s writings.

Jerome and Rufinus carried on a war of angry apologies and counter-apologies, in which their old familiarity was remembered only as affording the means of reproaching each other with the sayings and the actions of former days. Augustine was so distressed by witnessing such a dispute between men of advanced age and of great reputation for learning and piety—ancient friends, too, and fellow-students of Scripture,—that, in writing to Jerome himself, and on the supposition that his representations were correct, lie could only express his sorrow at the unseemly spectacled Jerome in one of his tracts assumes a tone of seeming moderation and gentleness. He entreats Rufinus to let the matter drop; if (he says) they had erred in youth, they ought to be wiser in age, and to rejoice in each other’s improvement; but, with an inconsistency not unusual in controversialists who advise moderation, he insists that the difference shall be ended on his own terms—by his opponent's joining in abjuration of Origen.

Rufinus appears to have been at length weary of the contest, and ceased to write. He was driven from Aquileia by the troubles of Italy, and once more set out with Melania for the Holy Land, but died by the way in Sicily—having seen along the opposite coast the fires of the devastation by Alaric's army. Jerome at a later time spoke of him by the name of Grunnius (the grunter); and in his preface to Ezekiel he refers to his opponent's death in terms which indicate an undiminished rancour : “The scorpion is buried under the soil of Sicily, with Enceladus and Porphyrion; the many-headed hydra has ceased to hiss against us”.

In another quarter the Origenistic controversy involved the fate of one of the most eminent men who adorned the ancient church.

John, who for his eloquence has received the name of Chrysostom (or Golden-mouthed), was born at Antioch about the year 347. While very young he lost his father, a military officer of rank, and was left to the care of a pious and truly admirable mother, Anthusa. He became a pupil of the famous rhetorician Libanius, but was preserved by an unintermitted study of the Scriptures from the dangers to which the faith of Christian youths were exposed in the pagan schools and so strongly was his master impressed by his talents, that on being asked, many years after, to name a successor for himself in his chair, he answered that John would have been the worthiest, if the Christians had not stolen him. At the age of twenty Chrysostom began to practise at the bar; but his conscience took offence at the arts which were common among the advocates of Antioch, and he resolved to devote himself to a religious life. He now received baptism from the bishop, Meletius; and, as Anthusa’s earnest and pathetic entreaties restrained him from fulfilling his wish to rush at once into monastic retirement, he was ordained a reader, and continued to reside with her, in the practice of a strict asceticism, until her death, after which he withdrew to the mountains near Antioch. Here he spent four years in a monastery, and had lived for two years as a hermit in a cave, when sickness, brought on by his austerities, compelled him to return to the city. He was ordained deacon in 381, and while a member of that order he wrote his dialogue On the Priesthood, which, notwithstanding all the difference of circumstances, still retains a high value and popularity as a manual of pastoral duty. In 386 Flavian ordained him presbyter, and appointed him chief preacher at Antioch. In this office, his eloquence excited immense admiration.

Sometimes his sermons were carefully prepared; at other times they were altogether extemporal; sometimes he combined the two methods, —departing from his intended plan so as to take advantage, with singular readiness and felicity, of any topic which the moment might suggest. His diction is clear and flowing, his illustrations are copious, varied, and apposite; he is distinguished by good sense, and by a knowledge of the heart, learnt rather from his own inward experience than through intercourse with others. In his expository discourses, which extend over the greater part of the New Testament, with some books of the Old, he adheres to the literal sense of Scripture, and never loses sight of a practical application. Among the most celebrated of his other homilies are those On the Statues, delivered on occasion of the sedition in which the statues of Theodosius and his family were thrown down at Antioch. While the inhabitants were in trembling expectation of some fearful punishment, and while the aged Flavian was absent on a mission of intercession to the emperor, Chrysostom daily preached to anxious multitudes in a tone of solemn and awakening eloquence. The pulpit triumphed over the theatres and the circus, to which the people of Antioch were usually devoted; and the preacher endeavoured to make the terror and excitement of the time become the foundation of a lasting reform.

When Chrysostom had been nearly twelve years preacher at Antioch. the see of Constantinople fell vacant by the death of Nectarius, in September 397. The possession of so eminent a dignity excited much ambition; candidates resorted to discreditable intrigues and solicitations, and party spirit ran high. At length the emperor Arcadius was requested to put an end to the confusion by nominating a bishop; and his choice was directed to Chrysostom through the influence of the eunuch Eutropius, who, on a late journey in Syria, had listened with admiration to the great orator's eloquence. Perhaps the minister may have reckoned on benefiting his own reputation by so laudable an exercise of his patronage; perhaps, too, he may have hoped to secure the bishop’s subservience by establishing a hold on his gratitude. As there was reason to apprehend that the people of Antioch might break out into tumult if their preacher were openly taken away from them, Chrysostom was decoyed by the count of the East to a place without the city, and thence was privately sent off to Constantinople.

In order that his appointment might have all the advantage of solemnity, a council was summoned on the occasion. Theophilus of Alexandria, on being required to take the chief part in the consecration of the new bishop, hesitated, from jealousy of the precedence lately assigned to Constantinople over his own see, and from a wish that the vacancy should be filled with one of the Alexandrian clergy; for it is said that his skill in physiognomy had warned him at the first interview that he must not expect to find a tool in Chrysostom. Eutropius, however, frightened the Egyptian primate into compliance, by producing a schedule of charges against him, and threatening to bring him to trial for his misdemeanours; and Chrysostom was consecrated on the 26th of February 398.

The eloquence which had won for him the admiration of Antioch was no less effective at Constantinople. The multitudes of the capital flocked to hear him, and were zealous for his cause in his after trials; and among the well-disposed of the higher classes (especially among pious ladies), his influence soon became very powerful. Much of his attention was engaged by the Arian heresy, which, notwithstanding the severity of the penal laws, continued to lurk among the Greeks, while it was the professed creed of the Gothic barbarians, who were now numerous and formidable at Constantinople. With a view of converting these to orthodoxy, he ordained clergy of their own race, gave up one of the churches for a service in their native language, and himself often preached there, his words being rendered into Gothic by an interpreter. When Gainas the Goth, who was at the time predominant at Constantinople, demanded a church for the exercise of Arian worship, Chrysostom alone dared to meet him with a firm denial at a conference in the emperor's presence, and obliged Arcadius to refuse; and by conduct so strikingly contrasting with that of the pusillanimous court he won the respect of the barbarian himself. While thus zealous for the suppression of error within his own sphere, the archbishop also laboured for the propagation of the gospel by sending missions to the unconverted Goths and Scythians; and by obtaining an imperial warrant for the destruction of the temples in Phoenicia, which was executed at the expense of his female friends, he contributed to the extirpation of the ancient idolatry.

His influence was beneficially exerted to heal the schism of his native city. On the death of Paulinus, who had been acknowledged as bishop of Antioch by Egypt and the west, his party consecrated Evagrius; but this bishop did not long survive, and they were again left without a head. Through the intervention of Chrysostom, in the first year of his episcopate, both Innocent of Rome and Theophilus were persuaded to acknowledge Flavian, who thereupon inserted the names of both Paulinus and Evagrius in the diptychs of his church. Thus the later separation—that which Lucifer had occasioned by consecrating Paulinus—was brought to an end, although some remains of the old Eustathian party continued to exist without any bishop. The schism was eventually terminated by the conciliatory measures of Alexander, bishop of Antioch, in 415.

But as Chrysostom’s new position was more conspicuous than that which he had formerly held, it also exposed him to dangers from which he had until now been exempt. Although he possessed in very large measure such a knowledge of the heart as fitted him to be a wise practical teacher of religion, he was wanting in that acquaintance with the world, and in that understanding of individual character, which are necessary for the administration of important office, and are nowhere more necessary than in high ecclesiastical office. His temper was naturally warm, and the opposition which he met with in his endeavours at reform provoked him to expressions of anger, which both raised up enemies and supplied them with weapons against him.

Reform was indeed very necessary. Nectarius, having grown old in the habits of secular rank, did not greatly alter them after his sudden promotion to the episcopate; and under him the clergy of Constantinople in general fell into a style of easy living, while some of them were even scandalous in their conduct. Chrysostom sold the rich carpets and handsome furniture which had belonged to his predecessor; he even sold some of the marbles and other ornaments of the churches, in order to obtain funds for the establishment of hospitals and for other charitable purposes; he expended the whole of his own income on such objects, and was indebted for maintenance to a pious widow, Olympias. Partly from a distaste for general society, and partly from feeble health, he always took his meals alone—neither giving nor accepting hospitality; and to those who wished to engage him in idle conversation, he plainly intimated that it was tedious to him. The contrast between such a way of life and that of the former bishop was naturally noted to his disadvantage, and became the ground for charges of pride, moroseness, and parsimony. The bishops who visited Constantinople no longer found the episcopal palace open to them; for Chrysostom thought this unnecessary, since there were so many of the faithful among whom he supposed that they might be sure to find a welcome. Acacius of Berrhoea, in Syria, was so provoked by the insufficiency of the accommodations which had been provided for him on a visit to the capital, that he is said to have exclaimed, “I will season his pot for him!”

Chrysostom attempted to introduce an improvement among his clergy by enforcing simplicity of life and rousing them to activity in their calling. He deposed some of them on charges of murder and adultery, and interfered with the practice of entertaining “spiritual sisters”. The institution of services at night, for the benefit of persons unable to attend those of the day, gave deep offence to some clergymen, whose ease was infringed on by the imposition of additional duties. It would appear that, in the manner of his dealings with his clerical brethren, the bishop was too much influenced by his archdeacon Serapion, a proud, violent, and unpopular man, who is reported to have told him that the only way of managing them was “to drive them all with one stick”. Among the monks, too, there were many who regarded the archbishop with an unkindly feeling; for he made it no secret that in proportion to his love for the monastic life was his indignation against the strolling and greedy pretenders who disgraced it; and he excited much wrath, both among the monks and among the clergy, by advising Olympias not to bestow her bounty indiscriminately.

While his popularity as a preacher excited envy, his eloquence sometimes hurried him into the use of expressions which were liable to misconstruction. Thus he was reported to have said in a sermon, “If thou sin and repent a thousand times, come hither”. There can be no doubt that the intended meaning of the words was innocent (if indeed they were used at all); but Sisinnius, the Novatianist bishop—who with the severe notions of his sect as to penance somewhat incongruously combined the reputation of a wit and a handsome style of dress and living—took occasion from them to write a book against him.

Chrysostom also drew enmity on himself by the un­sparing manner. in which he attacked the prevailing vices—extending his rebukes even to the court. The rapacity which the empress Eudoxia exercised in order to support her eunuchs provoked him not only to remonstrances in private, but to public censures.

Eutropius was disappointed in his hope of a subservient bishop, and had frequent disputes with Chrysostom. The victims of the favourite’s extortions often took refuge in churches, and he produced from the feeble emperor a law abolishing the privilege of sanctuary. But soon after, Eutropius himself was suddenly over thrown; whereupon he fled in terror to the cathedral, and laid hold on the altar for protection Chrysostom withstood the soldiers who were sent to seize the fallen minister; and on the following day, when the church was crowded by a multitude of people, such as was usually assembled only at Easter, he discoursed on the instability of human greatness. While Eutropius lay crouching under the holy table, the archbishop reminded him of his former opposition to the very privilege from which he was then seeking his safety, and entreated the congregation to intercede for him both with the emperor and with God. This address—evidently intended to disarm the anger of the hearers by exhibiting the abject condition of Eutropius—was misrepresented as an exultation over his calamity; and at the same time offence was taken on account of the protection which Chrysostom had offered to the eunuch. The archbishop was even arrested, and carried before the emperor; but he fearlessly asserted the right of the church to shelter the wretched, and the claim was acknowledged, although Eutropius, by leaving the sanctuary, again exposed himself to his enemies, and in consequence of his rashness was put to death.

In the last days of the year 400, Chrysostom set out for Ephesus. Antoninus, bishop of that city, had been accused of selling ordination to bishoprics, and of other offences, but had died before the charges could be satisfactorily examined and the Ephesian clergy requested the intervention of the archbishop of Constantinople. Six bishops were convicted of having bought their office from Antoninus, and were deposed. Chrysostom ordained a new bishop for Ephesus, and on his way homewards he deposed several unworthy bishops, and transferred some churches from sectaries to the Catholics. Some of these acts were afterwards brought against him as having been done in excess of his jurisdiction; and in the meantime, Severian, bishop of Gabala in Syria, a celebrated preacher, whom he had left in charge of his flock, had been busily endeavouring to supplant him. Chrysostom, on being informed of this by the archdeacon Serapion, with whom Severian had quarrelled, forbade him to preach in Constantinople. Severian withdrew from the city, but was recalled by the empress, who effected a reconciliation between him and the archbishop. But the desire of vengeance rankled in Severian’s breast, and there were many others whom Chrysostom had offended—clergy, monks, courtiers, wealthy ladies, and even the empress herself. Acacius of Berrhoea (whose dissatisfaction has been already mentioned), and Antiochus, another Syrian bishop, made common cause with Severian. They endeavoured, by inquiries at Antioch, to discover some ground of accusation in the archbishop’s earlier life; and, although in this their malice was disappointed, they soon found an unexpected opportunity of gratifying it.

Theophilus succeeded Timothy at Alexandria in 385, and held the see until 412. He was able, bold, crafty, unscrupulous, corrupt, rapacious, and domineering. In the first controversy between Jerome and Rufinus, he had acted the creditable part of a mediator. His own inclinations were undoubtedly in favour of Origen; he had even deposed a bishop named Paul for his hostility to that teacher : but he now found it expedient to take a different line of conduct.

We have seen that, while the monks of Nitria were admirers of Origen, others among the Egyptian recluses held him in detestation. The latter class very generally fell into the error of anthropomorphism. Thus it is related of Serapion, an aged monk of great reputation for holiness, that, when he had with much difficulty been brought to understand the falsehood of this opinion, and while the friends who had argued with him were engaged in thanksgiving for the result, he suddenly cried out, in distress at missing the image which he had been accustomed to place before his mind in prayer—“Woe is me! You have robbed me of my God, and I know not whom to worship!”. As it was the custom of the Alexandrian bishops, in issuing the annual letters by which the time of Easter was fixed, to annex some pastoral instructions on other subjects, Theophilus, in his paschal letter of 399, took the opportunity of denouncing anthropomorphism. On this the monks who held the doctrine exclaimed against the archbishop as a blasphemer, and a party of them rushed to Alexandria, with the intention, as was supposed, of killing him. But when Theophilus saluted them with the words “I behold you as if it were the face of God”, they were pacified by his seeming agreement with their notions; at their desire he condemned Origen, and from that time he used the fanaticism of these monks, and the odium attached to the name of Origen, as instruments of his designs.

Among the most eminent of the Nitrian monks were four brothers, known as the “long” or “tall brothers”—Dioscorus, Ammonius (perhaps the same whose determined refusal of a bishopric has been noticed in the preceding chapter), Eusebius, and Euthymius. Theophilus conceived a high regard for these brothers; he compelled Dioscorus to accept the bishopric of Hermopolis, the diocese in which the Nitrian mountain was situated, and, having drawn Eusebius and Euthymius from their solitude, he employed them in the financial business of his church. But while thus engaged they made discoveries which greatly shocked them as to the means by which Theophilus obtained funds to gratify his passion for church-building; whereupon, fearing to endanger their souls by becoming his accomplices, they left Alexandria under pretext of a wish to return to their monastic life. Theophilus soon learnt that this was not their principal motive, and resolved that they should feel his vengeance.

About the same time Isidore, master of a hospital at Alexandria, who had been ordained presbyter by Athanasius, and was now eighty years of age, incurred the archbishop’s enmity by opposing him in some intended iniquities as to money. Theophilus charged the old man with abominable offences, of which he professed to have received information eighteen years before, although the paper which contained it had been accidentally mislaid; and Isidore, knowing his persecutor’s unrelenting character, sought a refuge in Nitria.

The archbishop excited the anthropomorphite monks against the objects of his hatred by representing these as Origenists; he procured from an Alexandrian synod a condemnation of them for Origenism and magic; he denounced the Nitrians to the governor of Egypt as insubordinate, invaded their solitude with soldiers and hostile monks, and committed great outrages—burning cells, destroying the books and other things which were found in them, and even killing some of the recluses. Dioscorus was violently dragged from his episcopal throne by Ethiopians, and about three hundred monks were driven from their retreat. The “long brothers” disavowed the opinions imputed to them, saying, like Rufinus, that these had been foisted by heretics into Origen’s works. With more than eighty companions they fled into Palestine; and having been dislodged thence through the interest of Theophilus, they, with about fifty others, sought a refuge at Constantinople. Chrysostom, having ascertained from some Alexandrian clergy who were then in the capital that they were men of good repute, provided them with a lodging in the buildings of the Anastasia, and wrote in their behalf to Theophilus; but, although he allowed them to join in the prayers of the church, he did not admit them to the communion of the Eucharist, lest the archbishop of Alexandria should be offended.

The delicacy of this behaviour, however, was fruitless. It was reported at Alexandria that Chrysostom had admitted the brothers to full communion; and Theophilus, animated not only by the Alexandrian jealousy of Constantinople, but by personal dislike of the man whom he had unwillingly consecrated to the see of the New Rome, angrily answered his letter by desiring him to respect the fifth Nicene canon, which ordered that all causes should be terminated in the province where they arose. He also sent some monks to accuse the refugees before the emperor. Chrysostom had earnestly dissuaded the brothers from carrying their complaints to the court; but on hearing of the step which their persecutor had taken, they addressed the empress as she was on her way to a church, and prayed her to grant an inquiry before a council into certain charges against Theophilus. Eudoxia was moved by their entreaties, and Theophilus was summoned to Constantinople : but as he delayed his appearance, his emissaries were examined by a prefect, and were condemned as false accusers to imprisonment, in which some of them died before their employer’s arrival.

In the meanwhile Theophilus circulated a monstrous set of propositions, which he ascribed to Origen, and actively endeavoured to enlist supporters. Jerome, exasperated by his controversies with John of Jerusalem and Rufinus, eagerly lent his aid; he overwhelmed Theophilus with praises, and translated into Latin three of his paschal letters against Origen, with other documents relating to the controversy. Some years before, Theophilus had stigmatized Epiphanius as a heretic and schismatic, on account of the anthropomorphism which was imputed to him, and of his proceedings in the Holy Land; but he now applied to him, begging that he would join in the movement, and would write to Constantinople and elsewhere for the purpose of obtaining a general condemnation of Origenism. On this Epiphanius held a synod of Cypriot bishops, condemned the reading of Origen’s works, and wrote to desire that Chrysostom would do the like; and, as Chrysostom took no step in the matter, the old man himself proceeded to Constantinople. Immediately after landing, he ordained a deacon, in defiance of the archbishop’s rights. He refused the offers of honour and hospitality which Chrysostom pressed on him, and protested that he would hold no communication with him unless Origen were condemned and the “long brothers” were expelled. Chrysostom answered that he left both Origen and the brothers to the judgment of the council which had been summoned. Epiphanius then endeavoured, although with very little success, to obtain a declaration against Origen from the bishops who happened to be at Constantinople. An interview with the brothers, however, appears to have convinced him that the cause of his Egyptian ally was not altogether pure, so that without waiting for the expected synod, he embarked for Cyprus; and either on the voyage or soon after reaching home, he died, at the age of nearly a hundred years.

Theophilus at length set out for Constantinople, taking the circuitous way by land through Syria and Asia Minor. Although he had been cited as a defendant, and was expected to appear alone, he was attended by a train of Egyptian bishops, and had so assured himself of support that he declared his business to be the deposition of Chrysostom. He entered the city with great pomp, and took up his abode at a suburban palace belonging to the emperor, where he remained for three weeks, refusing all communication with Chrysostom, and strengthening his interest by bribery, hospitalities, solicitations, and such other means as were likely to be effectual with persons of influence. Arcadius, who was probably not in the secret of Eudoxia’s policy, desired Chrysostom to proceed to a trial; but the archbishop declined, on the ground that offences committed in another province did not belong to his jurisdiction.

Theophilus, when he had matured his plans, summoned Chrysostom to appear before a synod at the Oak, a villa near Chalcedon, on the opposite side of the Bosphorus to Constantinople. The president of this synod was the bishop of Heraclea, who, as metropolitan of the province within which the new dignity of Constantinople had been erected, was naturally disposed to lend himself to the humiliation of its occupant. A long list of charges, mostly false or grossly exaggerated, and concocted by Theophilus with the help of two deacons who had been deposed for serious crimes, was produced against Chrysostom. They related to faults in the administration of his church and its funds; to his conduct towards the clergy, in depriving some, severely reproving others, and the like; to his private habits of life; to ritual irregularities; to doctrines which he had vented, and expressions which he had used, in his sermons : but, although Origenism was the pretext for the Alexandrian bishop's whole proceedings, he did not venture to include it in the indictment. Chrysostom had with him forty bishops—a larger assemblage than the synod of his opponents, and more fairly composed, inasmuch as of the thirty-six bishops who met at the Oak all but seven belonged to the Egyptian province. He earnestly besought his partisans to avoid a rupture, even although it were necessary that he himself should be sacrificed for the sake of peace. Two bishops from the hostile synod entered the assembly, and in an insolent manner summoned Chrysostom to appear at the Oak. The bishops who surrounded him answered that Theophilus ought rather to come and take his trial before themselves; but Chrysostom professed himself ready to meet all accusations before the irregular tribunal, provided that his declared enemies, Theophilus, Acacius, Antiochus, and Severian, were not allowed to sit as judges. The citation was repeated a second and third time, but he continued to disregard it. After many hours had been spent in these fruitless communications, the bishops at the Oak received a message from the court, urging them to pronounce a decision; whereupon they condemned Chrysostom as contumacious, and added that he was also guilty of treason, but that, as that offence was beyond their jurisdiction, they left the punishment of it to the emperor. Arcadius did not proceed to the extent which this malicious sentence suggested, but contented himself with condemning the archbishop to deposition and banishment.

Chrysostom held himself bound not to abandon his post, unless compelled by force. He was anxiously guarded by his people for three days, until, hearing that the emperor intended to seize him, and dreading some serious tumult, he surrendered himself, and was immediately sent across the Bosphorus. The people, on learning that he was in custody, beset the palace with cries for their pastor, and in the course of the following night the city was shaken by an earthquake. The empress, alarmed both by the danger of an insurrection and by supernatural terrors, hastily dispatched a messenger to the archbishop, with a letter in which she assured him that she was guiltless of his banishment, and desired him to return. In the meantime the agitation at Constantinople was extreme. The entrance of Theophilus into the city was the signal for affrays between the populace and his Alexandrian sailors, which became so serious that he thought it well to retire; and Severian, who ventured to preach against Chrysostom, was forcibly driven out.

The archbishop’s return was hailed with enthusiasm. The Bosphorus was covered with vessels of all sizes, which were crowded by multitudes eager to welcome him. It had been his intention to remain without the city until his deposition should be annulled by a council greater than that which had condemned him; but the excitement of the people, and a fear lest it should be turned against the emperor, induced him to proceed to the cathedral, where, yielding to the cries of the congregation, he took his seat on the throne, and delivered an extemporal address, in which the invasion of his church by the bishop of Alexandria was paralleled with the seizure and the forced restoration of Abraham’s wife by the Egyptian king. Theophilus forthwith set out for Alexandria, covering his discomfiture by the pretext that his flock could no longer endure his absence.

Chrysostom’s triumph appeared to be complete; but before two months had passed his enemies found a new ground for attacking him. A silver statue of the empress was erected near the cathedral, and was inaugurated with the unruly and somewhat heathenish rejoicings which were usual on such occasions. The archbishop—after (it is said) having sent remonstrances to the court, which were intercepted by the way—expressed in a sermon his strong condemnation of the scenes which were taking place almost at the doors of his church, and his language was repeated, probably with malicious exaggeration, so that the empress was violently offended. The offence was increased by a sermon preached on the festival of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist, which is said to have opened with the words, “Again Herodias rages; again Herodias is agitated; again she requires the head of John”. It is incredible that Chrysostom could have meant to point these words at the empress; it is doubtful whether he used them at all; but his enemies either invented or misapplied them, and hopefully resumed their intrigues. Theophilus did not again venture to go to Constantinople, but from his own city directed the proceedings of Severian and his other allies.

At Christmas 403, Arcadius announced to the archbishop that he could not communicate with him until he had cleared himself of certain accusations. A synod was held early in the following year, and Chrysostom was charged before it with having violated the twelfth canon of Antioch (originally enacted against St. Athanasius) by resuming his see without ecclesiastical sanction after having been deposed by a council. His friends—for he had forty-two bishops on his side—replied that the canon did not apply to his case, and, moreover, that it was the work of heretics; one of them caused some confusion among the opposite party by proposing, in the emperor's presence, that those who wished to act on the canon should sign the creed of its authors. The objections, however, were overruled, and Chrysostom was condemned.

At the approach of Easter, Arcadius, urged on by the archbishop’s enemies, intimated to him that, after having been sentenced to deposition by two synods, he must not enter the church. On Easter-eve, during the administration of baptism which was customary on that vigil, several of the churches were attacked by soldiers, who drove out the congregations— among them the women who were undress for baptism—and committed gross profanations. The candidates for baptism took refuge in the baths of Constantine, where the administration of the sacrament was continued, and, when driven thence, they repaired to a circus outside the walls, from which also they were dislodged it would seem, however, that Chrysostom was afterwards allowed to resume possession of the churches. Within a short space of time two attempts were made on his life by assassins. In Whitsun-Week the emperor sent him a mandate to leave the episcopal house. As it was evident that he must now yield to force, he took a solemn farewell of his friends. To each class he addressed suitable admonitions; he entreated that they would not despair for the loss of an individual, but would receive any bishop who should be appointed by general consent; and, while his mule was held in waiting at one door of the cathedral, in order to divert the attention of his people, who for weeks had guarded him day and night, he left the building by an opposite door, and gave himself up, declaring that he referred his cause to an impartial council.

The discovery of his removal from Constantinople produced a great excitement. Next day the cathedral and the splendid palace of the senate were burnt. Each party charged the other with incendiarism; but the Joannites (as Chrysostom’s adherents were called), being obnoxious to the imperial government, were cruelly treated on account of the fire, and some of them were put to death. Among others, Olympias was questioned on suspicion of having been concerned in the fire. “My life hitherto” she said, “is an answer to the charge. One who has spent much on building churches is not a likely person to destroy them”. Arsacius, a man of eighty, brother to Nectarius, was appointed to the see of Constantinople, and, after having feebly held it for a year, was succeeded by Atticus. In the meantime the Joannites saw the vengeance of heaven in earthquakes and hailstorms, in the death of Eudoxia (Oct. 6th, 404), and in the calamities which befell other persons who had been conspicuous among the enemies of the expelled archbishop.

Chrysostom, after having been carried across the Bosphorus, was allowed to remain nearly a month at Nicaea. He earnestly pressed for an investigation of his cause, but in vain. It was in vain, too, that both he and his friends entreated that some endurable residence might be assigned as the place of his banishment. After a toilsome and tedious journey, in which he was in danger from robbers, and much more from fanatical monks, he reached Cucusus, among the ridges of Mount Taurus, the scene of the exile and death of his predecessor Paul. During his sojourn in this remote and wretched little town, he suffered from want of provisions, from the alternate excesses of heat and cold, from frequent sicknesses, in which it was impossible to obtain medicines, and from the ravages of Isaurian robbers, which at length compelled him to take shelter in the fortress of Arabissus. But the years of his banishment were fuller of honour and influence than any portion of his previous life. He kept up a correspondence with churches in all quarters; even the bishop of Rome, Innocent, who was strongly interested in his favour, treated him on terms of equality. From the bishop of Cucusus and his other neighbours he met with reverential kindess. Many pilgrims sought him out in his secluded abode, from a desire to express their veneration for him. He directed missionary labours in Persia and among the Goths while his friends at a distance supplied him with funds so amply, that he was not only able to support these missions and to redeem captives, but even had to request that their overflowing liberality might be directed into other channels. He wrote frequent letters of advice and consolation to the bishops and clergy who had been involved in his fall, and to his adherents at Constantinople, who were subjected to great severities for refusing to communicate with his intruded successors. The western emperor and the bishop of Rome joined in desiring that his cause should be again tried by an impartial council of the whole church; but the relations of the divisions of the empire towards each other were unfavourable to the success of the proposal, and some envoys who were sent from the west to the court of Arcadius were imprisoned and were treated with great in dignity.

After Chrysostom had spent three years in exile, the interest which he continued to excite provoked his enemies to still more rigorous measures against him. He was sentenced to be removed to Pityus, a town on the extreme frontier of the empire, to the east of the Euxine; and in the summer of 407 he was carried off from Arabissus. On the journey his bodily ailments were renewed or aggravated by exposure to violent heat. At Comana, a city of Pontus (now Gumenek), he requested his conductors to halt, as he felt the approach of death. He exchanged his mean dress for the best which he possessed; he received the holy eucharist, and, after uttering the words, “Glory be to God for all things!” he expired as he added “Amen”.

The Joannites remained a separate body for some years longer. Theophilus—although after Chrysostom’s banishment he wrote a brutal book against him, which was eagerly translated into Latin by Jerome—advised Atticus to deal leniently with them. Alexander of Antioch (the same who succeeded in putting an end to the Eustathian schism) led the way in acknowledging the orthodoxy of Chrysostom by inserting his name in the diptychs of his church, and the example was followed elsewhere, until at length Atticus, at the urgent entreaty of the people and the court, and with a view to obtaining the communion of the west, consented to admit the name into the diptychs of Constantinople. By this act, and by the general observance of a moderate and conciliatory policy, he regained many Joannites to his communion and the schism was finally extinguished in 438, under the episcopate of Proclus, when the relics of the banished archbishop were translated from Comana. As the vessel which bore them approached the capital, the population, in numbers far greater than those which had welcomed the living Chrysostom's return from exile, swarmed forth over the Bosphorus in boats; and the emperor, Theodosius II, bending over the coffin, entreated the saint to forgive the guilt of Arcadius and Eudoxia.

But the see of Constantinople never recovered the wound which it had received in the banishment of Chrysostom. Its patriarchs, with few exceptions, were, from that time, little more than pliant officers of the court 

CHAPTER II

ST. AUGUSTINE.—DONATISM.—PELAGIANISM.

 

 

The great light of the western church in his age was St. Augustine, a teacher of wider and more lasting influence than any since the apostles. The history of his earlier years is given by himself in the well-known “Confessions” where he solemnly acknowledges his errors, and magnifies the gracious Providence which had guided him through many perils and conflicts to truth and peace.

Augustine was born in 354, at Thagaste, an episcopal city of Numidia. His father, Patricius, a man of curial rank, but in indifferent circumstances, was then a heathen; but his mother, Monica, a devout and exemplary Christian, caused the boy to be admitted in infancy as a catechumen of the church. He tells us that, when alarmed by a sudden and dangerous illness in his childhood, he earnestly desired baptism, and that preparations were made for administering it; but as the danger passed over, it was considered better that the sacrament should be deferred, lest he should incur a heavier guilt by falling into sin after having received the baptismal grace. Patricius, although himself a man of loose habits, and careless of his son’s moral and religious training, exerted himself even beyond his means to obtain for him a good literary education, in the hope that it would lead to some honourable and lucrative employment; and with this view Augustine, after having acquired the elements of learning at Thagaste, was sent to pursue his studies at the schools of Madaura and Carthage. It would seem that his abilities were conspicuous from an early age, but that his application of them was uncertain and capricious; he read the Latin poets with eager fondness, but disliked the study of Greek; and his boyish neglect of that language was but very imperfectly remedied in after life. At the age of seventeen, about the time of his removal to Carthage, he lost his father, who had at last been persuaded, as much by the discreet and gentle conduct of Monica as by her arguments, to embrace the Christian faith. A rich citizen of Thagaste, Romanian, assisted the widow to bear the expense of her son’s education, and Augustine’s talents promised to render him distinguished. But he had early fallen into dissolute courses, and at Carthage he took a concubine, by whom he became, at the age of eighteen, the father of a boy Adeodatus.

In his nineteenth year, the reading of Cicero’s Hortensius awakened in Augustine a longing after a higher life; but on turning to the Scriptures in search of wisdom, he found them simple and uninviting, while he was attracted in another direction by the specious promises of the Manichaeans, their ridicule of submission to authority, and their speculations as to the origin of evil This sect had made considerable progress during the course of the fourth century; it had profited by the dissensions of the church, and perhaps in a great degree by receiving accessions from the old and decaying gnostic parties. Although many laws spoke of it as more abominable than other heretical societies, and enacted penalties of especial severity against it, proselytism was actively carried on in secret, and the Manichean doctrines lurked even among the clergy and the monks. Augustine became a convert to these doctrines, and was a member of the sect from his nineteenth to his twenty-eighth year. But after a time he was startled and disgusted by observing the sensuality and hypocrisy of the “elect”, who were bound to profess the most ascetic strictness, and also by the discoveries which he made as to the immoral and revolting maxims of the sectaries. He looked for a solution of his doubts to Faustus, a Manichean bishop of great fame, who was expected to visit Carthage; but, when Faustus came, he found him to be not free from the usual inconsistency between profession and practice, and his discourse to be as empty as it was fluent and showy

Augustine had taught grammar and rhetoric, first at his native town and then at Carthage; but he found the disorderly habits of the Carthaginian students intolerable, and in order to escape from this annoyance—not (he assures us) from any desire of greater fame or profit — he removed to Rome in 383. Soon after his arrival he fell seriously ill; but he felt no inclination to beg for baptism, as in the sickness of his childhood. On his recovery, his dislike of Manichaeism was stronger than before, and for a time he was given over to the desolateness of universal scepticism. The prospect of earning a maintenance at Rome became doubtful; for he found that the Roman youth, although not so unruly as those of Africa, were apt to desert a professor without paying for the lectures which they had heard; and after a residence of about six months in the capital, he was glad to obtain an appointment as a public teacher of rhetoric at Milan.

Here he attended the sermons of Ambrose—not for the sake of religious instruction, but in order to ascertain whether the bishop’s eloquence deserved its fame. But by degrees the words of Ambrose produced an effect. Augustine found that the Manichean objections against the catholic faith were mostly founded on ignorance and misapprehension, the preacher’s allegorical explanations of the Old Testament showed him a way (although in truth a very dangerous way) by which he might escape from the difficulties of Scripture—“the letter that killeth”. Monica, who had strongly opposed his departure from Africa, rejoined him at Milan. She had watched his errors with deep anxiety and sorrow. Her prayers had been rewarded by visions which assured her that he would one day be converted; and, in the hope of bringing about the change, she had begged an aged bishop to converse with him. The bishop, a man of wisdom and learning, told her that it would be useless to argue with her son while flushed with the novelty of the Manichean doctrines, but that, if he were left to himself for a time, he could hardly fail to discover the vanity and impiety of the system; and he encouraged the hope by adding that he himself had been a member of the sect in his youth, but had seen reason to forsake its errors. Monica still continued to urge her petition, even with tears; but the bishop dismissed her with the assurance that it was “impossible that the child of those tears should perish”, and the words were treasured up as if they had been a voice from heaven. She had now the delight of finding her son no longer a Manichean, but a catechumen of the church; for he had resolved to resume that character until he could obtain some certainty of conviction; and she confidently expressed to him the hope of seeing him a catholic believer before her death. His baser passions, however, were not yet overcome.

Through various difficulties Augustine struggled onwards. He had found much support for his mind in the Platonic writings, while yet they failed to satisfy his cravings. He now devoted himself to the study of St Paul, with feelings far different from those which in his nineteenth year had led him to slight the simplicity of the Scriptures; and he found that the difficulties and seeming inconsistencies, which had once repelled him, vanished away. On hearing from one of his country­men, who happened to visit him, some details as to the lives of Antony and other monks, and as to the monastic system (which until then had been utterly unknown to him), he was greatly impressed; the vileness of his own past life rose up before his mind in contrast, and excited violent agitations. One day, when unable, in the wild conflict of his thoughts, to bear even the society of his dearest friend, Alypius, he rushed forth into the garden of his lodging, cast himself down under a fig-tree, and, with a gush of tears, passionately cried out for deliverance from the bondage of his sins. While thus engaged, he heard, as if from a neighbouring house, the voice of a child singing repeatedly, “Take up and read”. He could not remember that such words were used in any childish game; he bethought himself of the impression made on St. Antony by the Scriptures which were read in church, and believed that he was himself now called by a voice from heaven. Returning to the house, he seized the volume of St. Paul’s epistles, and opened on the text, “Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying: but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof”. From that moment Augustine felt himself another man; but, as he did not wish to attract notice by any display of the change, he continued to perform the duties of his professorship until the vintage vacation, when he resigned it, and retired into the country with his mother and some friends. On Easter-eve 387, he was baptized by St Ambrose, together with his son Adeodatus, and Alypius his countryman and pupil, whom he had formerly drawn into Manichaeism, and who eventually became bishop of Thagaste. In compliance with Monica’s wishes, he soon after set out towards Africa; but at Ostia the pious matron died, rejoicing that the desire of her heart was fulfilled in the conversion of her son.

As his mother’s death had done away with Augustine’s motive for hastening his return to Africa, he now repaired to Rome, where he resided upwards of a year, and produced, among other works, two books on the contrast between catholic and Manichaean morality. Towards the end of 388 he resumed his journey, and, after short stay at Carthage, he settled at his native place, where he gave up his property to pious and charitable uses, and for nearly three years lived in studious and devotional retirement, which Was shared by Alypius and other friends. His earlier history and his conversion, his sacrifice of worldly goods, his religious life and his writings, spread his fame far and wide, so that he was afraid to appear in any city where the bishopric was vacant, lest he should be forcibly seized and compelled to accept the dignity. He supposed himself, however, to be safe in accepting an invitation to Hippo the Royal (so called from having been anciently the residence of the Numidian kings), as the see was filled by Valerius; but as he was in church, listening to the bishop’s sermon, Valerius began to speak of the necessity of ordaining an additional presbyter : whereupon the people presented Augustine, and he was forced to submit to ordination,  Valerius admitted him to his confidence, and gave him a large share in the administration of the diocese. Being a Greek by birth, the bishop felt a difficulty in preaching in Latin, and was glad to relieve himself by employing Augustine as his substitute; and, although it was at first objected to, as a novelty in Africa, that a presbyter should preach in the presence of a bishop, the example was soon imitated in other dioceses. At the end of four years, Valerius, on the ground that his own age and infirmity rendered the assistance of a coadjutor necessary, desired that Augustine might be consecrated as his colleague in the see of Hippo; and Augustine was obliged to yield. Both he and Valerius were then ignorant that the eighth Nicene canon forbade the establishment of two bishops in the same city, except in cases where one was a reconciled Novatianist. Valerius did not long survive the appointment of his colleague.

Augustine held the bishopric of Hippo for five-and-thirty years, and, although the city was inferior in importance to many others, his genius and character caused him to be acknowledged, without any assumption on his own part, as the leader of the African church. The vast collection of his works includes treatises on Christian doctrine and practice, expositions of Scripture, controversial books against Manicheans, Donatists, Pelagians, and other sectaries, a great number of sermons, and upwards of two hundred and fifty letters, among which are many elaborate answers to questions of theology and casuistry. His greatest work, “Of the City of God” was written, as has been already mentioned, in consequence of the force with which the old pagan objection against Christianity, as the cause of public calamities, was urged after the capture of Rome by the Goths. The composition of this treatise was begun in 412 or 413, and was not finished until 426. In the first five books, Augustine meets the argument from the calamities of the times; in the next five, he argues against those who, while they allowed that paganism had not, in the days of its ascendency, secured its votaries against temporal evils, yet maintained that it was availing for the next life; and in the remaining twelve books, he contrasts the two polities—the earthly and the City of God—in their origin, their course, and their end. Some defects of the work are obvious : as, that the reasoning is not always satisfactory; that much of what is said has no visible bearing on the theme; that here, as elsewhere, Augustine is driven, by his want of acquaintance with the original languages, to evade questions as to the real meaning of Scripture, and to take refuge in allegories and forced applications. It is said, also, that the learning which appears so copious is in great measure borrowed from secondary sources. But on the whole this elaborate work, which is at once the last and most important of the apologies against paganism, and the first of professed treatises on the Church, deserves to be regarded as alike noble in the conception and in the execution.

The exemplary labours of Augustine in his diocese cannot be here detailed; but it is necessary to notice at some length the two principal controversies in which he was engaged—the sequel of that with the Donatists, and the new controversy which was occasioned by the opinions of Pelagius.

After their condemnation by Constans in 348, the Donatists remained in exile until the reign of Julian. As the edict by which that emperor recalled persons who were suffering on account of religion applied to such only as had been banished by his immediate predecessor, these sectaries could not benefit by it. They therefore presented a petition to Julian, expressing respect for his character and reliance on his justice in terms which were not only inconsistent with their former attitude towards the civil power, but afforded their opponents ground for reproaching them with flattery of the apostate and persecutor. The petition was successful, and they signalized their return from banishment by triumphant displays of intolerance. “If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by the Catholics, they washed the pavement, scraped the walls, burnt the altar, which was commonly of wood, melted the consecrated plate, and cast the holy Eucharist to the dogs”. The Donatists were now the stronger party in Numidia, and were powerful throughout the African provinces; but after the brief reign of Julian, they again became obnoxious to the government, and several laws were directed against them. Valentinian I, by an exception to his general policy of abstaining from interference with religion, enacted penalties against their practice of rebaptizing (A.D. 373).h Gratian ordered, in 377, that their churches should be given up to the Catholics, and that any places where they should hold meetings should be confiscated; and in the following year, at the request of a Roman council, he expelled their bishop from Rome. These laws do not appear to have been rigidly executed; but in other ways the interest of Donatism suffered greatly during the latter part of the fourth century.

The working of the schismatical spirit produced many divisions in the sect—each little fraction maintaining that it alone retained the true baptism, and excommunicating all the rest. The most considerable separation took place after the death of Parmenian, who had succeeded Donatus as leader of the party, and for forty years had guided it with vigour and skill. In 392 he was succeeded by Primian, who soon after had a violent quarrel with a deacon named Maximian, and excommunicated him. The original history of the schism was now repeated by rival factions of the Donatists. Maximian found a new Lucilla in a wealthy lady. Primian was condemned by two councils,—the second consisting of more than a hundred bishops; he was declared to be deposed, and twelve bishops joined in consecrating Maximian to the see of Carthage. But without paying any regard to these proceedings, Primian assembled at Bagai a council of three hundred and ten bishops, by which Maximian was condemned. In pursuance of this sentence, Maximian and his consecrators were ejected from their churches by the assistance of the civil power, and in some cases not without violence and cruelty; while the other Maximianist bishops were invited to rejoin the communion of Primian within a certain time, with a promise that their baptism and orders should be acknowledged as valid. In this affair, every principle of the original schism was either violated by the victorious party or carried out to manifest absurdity by the vanquished; and the history of it supplied the catholic controversialists with weapons which they did not fail to turn to account.

The leader in the literary warfare against Donatism was Optatus, bishop of Milevis, who about 370, in answer to a book by Parmenian, ably exposed both the history of the schism and the grounds on which its adherents professed to rest it. About the same time a grammarian named Tichonius, although himself a Donatist, did much to injure his party by a treatise in which he maintained that the church could not be confined to one corner, but must be diffused throughout the world; that the sins of the evil members do not cause a failure of God’s promises to it; and that baptism administered without the true church might be valid. But Augustine became the most formidable and effective opponent of Donatism.

When ordained a presbyter, he found that the Donatists were a majority in Hippo, where he tells us, in illustration of the sectarian spirit, that their bishop would not allow any of his flock even to bake for their catholic neighbours. Augustine’s first contribution to the controversy was a psalm or metrical piece, intended to furnish the less educated people with some knowledge of the question in a form which might assist the memory; it opens by setting forth the scriptural doctrine as to the mixture of evil with good in the visible church, sketches the history of the schism, and, after twenty parts, which begin with the successive letters of the alphabet, it concludes with exhortations to unity. This attack was followed up from time to time by treat­ises in answer to the most eminent Donatistic champions, and by letters to members of the sect, which are usually written in an admirable spirit of charity and courtesy. Augustine also endeavoured to bring the Donatists to conferences; but in this he rarely succeeded. Sometimes the refusal was rested on the ground that his dialectical skill would give him an unfair advantage; sometimes it was in a more insolent form—that the children of the martyrs could not condescend to argue with sinners and traditors. His attempts at conciliation were repelled by the obstinate bigotry of the sect. With a view to the common maintenance of discipline, he proposed that, when a person who was under censure of either community applied for admission into the other, it should not be granted except on condition of his submitting to penance; but although Augustine himself scrupulously observed this rule, he was unable to establish a mutual agreement in it, as the Donatists, for the sake of swelling their numbers, not only belied their profession by retaining notorious offenders in their communion, but indiscriminately received all sorts of proselytes.

The councils of the African Catholics made frequent reference to the Donatists, and generally in a moderate and conciliatory tone. They offered, even when impeded by decrees which had forbidden such concessions, to acknowledge the Donatist clergy in their orders and position. The clergy interposed to moderate the execution of the laws against the sectaries; and by various means—especially by making known the earlier documents of the schism—they gained many converts to the church. But the success of their exertions exasperated the fury of the circumcellions, who committed barbarous outrages against the catholic clergy, and rendered it unsafe for Catholics to live in country places; while the bishops of the sect were either afraid or unwilling to interfere or to grant redress. Augustine himself had a providential escape from a plot which had been arranged for waylaying him, and other bishops were so cruelly treated that the council of Africa, in 404, found it necessary to petition Honorius that the laws against heretics might be applied to the Donatists. The reports of the outrages which had been committed, and especially the evidence borne by the appearance of some of the sufferers, who presented themselves at the imperial court, provoked severer measures than those which the council had contemplated. The old edicts against the Donatists were revived and they were sentenced to heavy fines, to forfeiture of their churches, banishment of their bishops and clergy, and confiscation of any lands on which they might attempt to hold their worships. In consequence of this, the church received a large accession of converts, of whom it is probable that some were insincere, and that others, having inherited their Donatism, had until then professed it, not from any personal conviction of its tenets, but merely because they were held in terror by the circumcellions.

The law of February 405 was followed by others of like purport. On the death of Stilicho, the Donatists, pretending that these laws were his work and had expired with him, began to resume possession of churches and to renew their acts of violence. But the laws were reinforced by fresh edicts, and such of the sectaries as should molest the Catholics were threatened with capital punishment. On this Augustine wrote to the proconsul of Africa, begging that the new law might not be executed to the full; if, he said, Donatism should be punished with death, the catholic clergy, who were the persons best acquainted with the proceedings of the Donatists, and most interested in restraining them, would shrink from giving information against them. In 410, Honorius, alarmed by the pressure of the barbarians, granted a general freedom of religion for Africa; but at the urgent request of the Catholics this indulgence was revoked, and banishment and even death were denounced against those who should hold heretical assemblies.

The Catholics now entreated the emperor to appoint a conference between the two parties. The request was granted—the willingness of the Donatists being presumed from their language on some former occasions—and Marcellinus, a “tribune and notary” (or secretary of state), was deputed to superintend the discussion. Marcellinus is highly praised for his piety and virtues by Jerome and by Augustine, and their eulogies appear to be justified by the patience, moderation, and judgment which he displayed in the execution of his commission. In the citation addressed to the Donatists, it was said that such of them as might be willing to attend the conference should in the meantime enjoy possession of their churches, with an exemption from all laws against the sect; that, whatever the result of the meeting might be, they should have liberty to return to their homes; but that, if the party should refuse to obey the summons, conformity to the catholic church would be forthwith enforced: and Marcellinus offered, if the Donatists objected to him as a judge, to associate with himself any person of equal or superior dignity whom they might choose.

Two hundred and eighty-six catholic bishops were gradually assembled at Carthage. The Donatists made a display of their strength by entering the city in a body, to the number of two hundred and seventy-nine, and asserted, but seemingly without truth, that in their absent brethren they had a majority over the Catholics. Their leader was Petilian, bishop of Cirta (or Constantine), who had formerly been eminent as an advocate, and, when a catechumen, had been forcibly baptized into the sect and raised to the episcopate. The Catholics announced that, if convinced of the church’s failure everywhere but in the Donatistic communion, they would submit without requiring an acknowledgment of their orders; but that, if they should be able to convince their opponents, the Donatist bishops and clergy should be acknowledged as such, and an arrangement should be made for the joint government of the churches. Although the former of these alternatives might have been offered without any risk, the second deserves the praise of a really liberal and conciliatory spirit.

The conference was held on the 1st, the 3rd, and the 8th of June 411. The first day was taken up by formalities—Petilian’s forensic skill being employed in raising technical difficulties for the purpose of evading the main subjects of dispute. The commissioner renewed his offer of admitting an assessor; but Petilian answered that, as the Donatists had not asked for the first judge, it was not their part to ask for a second. Marcellinus then proposed that each party should choose seven disputants, seven advisers, and four other bishops, who should see to the authenticity of reports and documents; and that, with a view to orderly discussion, no other persons than those representatives, with the secretaries and public officers, should be admitted to the place of conference. To this the Donatists objected, as they supposed themselves to be more numerous than their opponents, and wished to make a visible display of their superiority; but, after the lists of bishops on each side had been recited and carefully verified, the sectaries found it expedient to comply with the proposed arrangement. Between the reading of the two lists, Marcellinus desired the bishops to sit down. To this the leader of the Donatists replied, with an elaborate compliment to the commissioner, that, as our Lord stood before his judge, it was not for them to sit in the presence of so worshipful a person; and, as Marcellinus would not sit while the bishops stood, all parties remained standing throughout the debated Among the catholic disputants were Aurelius of Carthage, Augustine, his friend Alypius, and his biographer Possidius.

At the next meeting Marcellinus again requested the bishops to seat themselves, whereupon Petilian produced another scriptural authority for refusing—namely, the words of the psalmist, “I will not sit with the wicked”. The second day was for the most part wasted in the same manner as the first; but on the third and last day, after fresh attempts at evasion and delay on the part of the Donatists, the real question came into discussion, and Augustine, who until then had spoken little, stood forward as the leader of the Catholics. It is noted as characteristic that, when he styled the Donatists “brethren”, Petilian protested against the term as injurious. Each party wished to throw on the other the burden of opening the case: the Donatists said that the Catholics were bound to do so, as having demanded the conference; the Catholics, that the Donatists were the accusers of the church, and therefore ought to state their charges. When Augustine entered on the history of the separation, the Donatists objected, and said that the matter ought to be determined by Scripture : to which the Catholics replied that they were willing to confine themselves to Scripture if their opponents would refrain from personal charges; but that, if Caecilian and others were attacked, the documents necessary for their justification must be admitted. Marcellinus decided that the acts relating to the commencement of the schism should be read; and eventually both the doctrinal question of the church’s purity and the historical question as to the origin of Donatism were discussed. The documents produced by the Donatists were shown to bear against their own cause; for it would seem that the sect had forgotten all such parts of its history as were unfavourable to it. They were at length forced to avow that they did not suppose the whole church to be limited to their own body in Africa, but only denied that their African opponents were in communion with the catholic churches beyond the seas. Marcellinus ended the conference by giving judgment against the Donatists. The promise of a safe conduct homewards was to be fulfilled to them, and a certain time was allowed, during which they might join the church on the terms which the Catholics had offered; but in case of their refusal the penal statutes against them were to be revived.

It is evident that, if a power of supreme ecclesiastical jurisdiction had then been supposed to exist in the see of Rome, an affair such as that of the Donatists would not have been intrusted to a lay imperial commissioner. But on the other hand, the commission given to Marcellinus does not imply such a right or claim of jurisdiction on the part of the civil power as might perhaps be supposed if the circumstance stood by itself. The Donatistic controversy had arisen at the very time when Constantine began to show favour to the Christians; it was originally carried before the emperor by the sectaries; although doctrinal discussions as to the being of the church were afterwards introduced into it, it was at first merely a question of disputed facts; and it had continued to engage the attention of the emperors, not in its doctrinal aspect, but because the disorders of the circumcellions disturbed the peace of Africa. Thus it had been throughout regarded as especially belonging to the imperial cognizance, and the appointment of Marcellinus was a consequence of that view. Indeed, the arbitration which was urgently needed could not well have been obtained from ecclesiastical authority; since all the Africans were parties in the case, and there were difficulties, perhaps insuperable, in the way of referring it to a synod beyond the seas, while a reference to the bishop of Rome does not appear to have been thought of as an expedient which could be admitted to decide the question.

The Donatists asserted that they had been victorious in argument at the conference, and that Marcellinus was bribed by their opponents. They appealed to the emperor; but Honorius, without regarding the appeal, confirmed his commissioner’s judgment, and in the following year enacted severe penalties against the sect. All who should refuse to conform to the church were to be heavily fined, in proportion to their rank, and in case of continued obstinacy they were to forfeit all their property. Slaves and peasants were to be beaten into conformity, and their masters, if they neglected to act on this order, were, “although Catholics”, to be liable to the penalties of Donatism. It was forbidden to harbour the sectaries; their bishops and clergy were to be banished, and the buildings and estates belonging to the body were to be confiscated. By another law, two years later, the penalties of the former were increased; the Donatists were deprived of the right of bequeathing property, and were subjected to a sort of civil excommunication. The African councils, however, still held out offers of conciliation, and the clergy, although they did not deny that such laws were justifiable, urged that the execution of them might be forborne or mitigated. In consequence of the measures of the government some Donatists were brought into the church, while others were driven to the frenzy of desperation. Their outrages became more violent than ever. Many committed suicide, which they supposed to be an expiation for all their sins; and to threaten it was a favourite expedient when they found themselves pressed by the Catholics. Gaudentius, a bishop, who had been one of the disputants at the conference, declared that, if he were forcibly required to join the catholic communion, he would shut himself up in a church with his adherents, set it on fire, and perish in the flames. It was against this zealot that Augustine wrote his last works in the Donatistic controversy, about the year 420.

Little is known of the Donatists after this time, although they were still occasionally noticed in imperial edicts. Under the Vandals their position was improved, but the sect soon dwindled into insignificance. Some remains of it, however, existed in the time of Gregory the Great, and it is supposed that it was not extinguished until the Saracenic invasion of Africa in the seventh century.

The Pelagian controversy was that as to which Augustine exercised the most powerful influence on his own age, and which has chiefly made his authority important throughout the succeeding times. The differences as to doctrine which had hitherto agitated the church originated in the east, and related to the God­head; one was now to arise in the west, which had for its subject the nature of man and his relations to God. On these points there had as yet been no precise definitions; but it had been generally acknowledged that the nature of man was seriously injured by the fall of Adam, and needed the assistance of Divine grace. In the western church, from the time of Tertullian, it was declared that Adam had transmitted to his posterity an inheritance of sinfulness; but the Latin teachers, as well as those of the east, had maintained that the will was free to choose good or evil, to receive or to reject salvation. Augustine himself, in his earlier writings after his conversion, maintained against the Manichaeans the freedom of the will in preparing man for the reception of grace. Faith (he said) depends on man, although works are of God’s grace; the Divine election is spoken of by St. Paul as opposed to a foundation of works—not to a foundation of faith; and if there were no freedom, there could be no responsibility. As early as 397, however, he had come to regard faith also as an effect of Divine grace; and it would be more correct to describe Pelagianism as a reaction from Augustine’s doctrine than to invert this order, although Pelagianism became the occasion by which Augustine was urged to carry out his system into precision and completeness.

Pelagius was a Briton—the first native of our island who distinguished himself in literature or theology. His Greek ok Latin name is traditionally said to be a translation of the British Morgan—sea-born. He is described as a monk, and it has been supposed that he belonged to the great monastery of Bangor; but the term most probably means only that he lived ascetically, without implying that he was a member of any monastic community. From his acquaintance with the Greek ecclesiastical writers it is inferred that he had resided in the east; and he has been identified by some with a monk of the same name who is mentioned in one of Chrysostom’s letters. About the end of the fourth century he took up his abode at Rome, where he became intimate with Paulinus of Nola and other persons of saintly reputation. Jerome in controversy expresses contempt for his abilities, and represents his habits as luxurious; but such aspersions are matters of course with Jerome, and, although Orosius also charges Pelagius with luxury and excess, we may rather rely on the testimony of Augustine, who always spoke with high respect of his adversary’s character for piety and virtue.

In his tone of thought Pelagius was rather oriental than western. The course of his religious life appears to have been steady—in striking contrast to the fierce agitations by which Augustine had been made to pass through so great a variety of experiences. His indignation was raised by the manner in which many persons alleged the weakness of human nature as an excuse for carelessness or slothfulness in religion; in opposition to this he insisted on the freedom of the will; and he is said to have expressed great displeasure at hearing a bishop repeat a well-known prayer of Augustine—“Give what Thou commandest, and command what Thou wilt”. But, although he found adherents at Rome, both his age, which was already advanced, and his temper disinclined Pelagius from any public declaration of his opinions. In one of his works—an exposition of St. Paul’s epistles, which has escaped the general fate of heretical books by being included through mistake among the writings of his enemy Jerome—there are many indications of his errors; but the objectionable opinions are there introduced in the way of discussion— not as if they were the author’s own.

At Rome Pelagius became acquainted with Celestius, who, from an expression of Jerome, has been supposed to have been a Scot—i.e. a native of Ireland. Celestius was a man of family, had practised as an advocate, and had forsaken that profession for an ascetic life. Whether he learnt his opinions from Pelagius, or had adopted them from another teacher before the beginning of his acquaintance with Pelagius, is doubtful. Jerome bestows his customary abuse on Celestius; Augustine describes him as bolder and less crafty than his associate.

After the sack of Rome, the two friends passed into Africa, where Pelagius remained but a short time; and it does not appear that after this separation they ever met again, or even corresponded with each other. Celestius endeavoured to obtain ordination as a presbyter at Carthage, but was charged with heresy by Paulinus, who had formerly been a deacon of the Milanese church, and is known to us as the biographer of its great bishop. The matter was examined by a synod, before which Celestius was accused of holding that Adam would have died even if he had not sinned; that his sin did not injure any but himself; that infants are born in the same condition in which Adam originally was; that neither do all mankind die in Adam nor do they rise again in Christ; that infants, although unbaptized, have eternal life; that the law admitted to the kingdom of heaven even as the gospel does; and that before our Lord’s coming there were men without sin. He defended himself by saying that he allowed the necessity of infant baptism;  that the propositions generally, whether true or not, related to matters of speculation on which the church had given no decision; and that consequently they could not be heretical. The council, however, condemned and excommunicated him, whereupon he appealed to the bishop of Rome. No attention was paid to this appeal—the first which is recorded as having been made to Rome from another province; and Celestius, without attempting to prosecute it, left Carthage for Ephesus. Augustine was now drawn into the controversy. Although he tells us that he had occasionally seen Pelagius while at Carthage, it would seem that the two had not held any discussion, as the catholic bishops were then engrossed by preparations for their conference with the Donatists; nor had Augustine been present at the synod which condemned Celestius. But the progress of the new opinions soon drew his attention. He was induced to compose two tracts against them for the satisfaction of Count Marcellinus; and at the request of the bishop, Aurelius, he preached in opposition to them at Carthage.

In the meantime, Pelagius, expecting to find the east more favourable to his opinions than Africa, had taken up his abode in the Holy Land. He was at first on friendly terms with Jerome; but disagreements soon arose between them, and Jerome became his vehement opponents Augustine, little acquainted with the Greek writers, had spoken of the Pelagian opinions as novelties of which there had been no example either among Catholics or among heretics; but Jerome traced them to the hated school of Origen and Rufinus.

Soon after his settlement in Palestine, Pelagius received an application which may be regarded as an evidence of the high reputation which he had attained—an urgent request from the mother of Demetrias, that he would write to her daughter on the occasion of her professing virginity; and in consequence of this he addressed a letter to Demetrias. He tells her that it is his practice in such matters to begin by laying down what human nature can do, lest, from an insufficient conception of its powers, too low a standard of duty and exertion should be taken; for, he says, men are careless in proportion as they think meanly of themselves, and for this reason it is that Scripture so often endeavours to animate us by styling us sons of God. The powers of man, like the faculties and instincts of all creatures, are God’s gifts. Instead of thinking, with the vulgar, that the power of doing evil is a defect in man—instead of reproaching the Creator, as if He had made man evil—we ought rather to regard the enjoyment of free-will as a special dignity and prerogative of our nature. He dwells on the virtues of those who had lived before the Saviour’s coming, and declares the conscience, which approves or reproves our actions, to be, “so to speak, a sort of natural holiness in our souls”. In this letter Pelagius shows an earnest zeal for practical religion, with a keen discernment of the deceits which might arise on the one hand from an abuse of the doctrine of grace, and on the other hand from a reliance on formal exercises. But his peculiar tenets appear strongly; and perhaps the most remarkable feature in the letter is the evidence which it contains that the monastic idea of sanctity very readily fell in with the errors which have become distinguished by the writer’s name.

In July 415 Pelagius was charged with heresy before John, bishop of Jerusalem, and a synod of his clergy, by Orosius, a young Spanish presbyter, who had lately come into the Holy Land with a recommendation from Augustine to Jerome. The accuser related the proceedings which had taken place at Carthage, and read a letter from Augustine. On this Pelagius asked, “What is Augustine to me?”, but was rebuked for speaking so disrespectfully of a great bishop, by whom unity had been restored to the church of Africa. John, however, was inclined to befriend him; he invited him, although a layman, to take his seat among the presbyters, and exerted himself to put a favourable construction on his words. When Pelagius was accused of holding that men could live without sin, the bishop said that there was scriptural warrant for the doctrine, and cited the instance of Zacharias and Elisabeth, with others equally irrelevant; and, on receiving from Pelagius an acknowledgment that divine grace was necessary in order to living without sin, his judges were satisfied. Pelagius, in truth, used the term grace in such a manner that his professions sounded orthodox; while he really meant by it nothing more than the outward means employed by God for instruction and encouragement in righteousness—not an inward work of the Holy Spirit, influencing the hearts.

The inquiry was carried on under the difficulties that Orosius could not speak Greek, that the members of the council understood no Latin, and that the interpreter was either incapable or unfaithful; while Pelagius, being familiar with the languages and with the doctrinal peculiarities of both east and west, had an advantage over his accuser and his judges. Orosius therefore proposed that, as the question was one of Latin theology, and as the parties were Latins, it should be referred to the bishop of Rome; and to this John agreed—ordering Pelagius in the meantime to abstain from publishing his opinions, and his opponents to refrain from molesting him. It need hardly be observed that the reference to Rome involved no acknowledgment of the later Roman pretensions, but was merely a resort from judges unacquainted with the doctrines of the western church to a more competent tribunal—that of the highest bishop of the west.

In the end of the same year, two Gaulish bishops, Heros of Arles and Lazarus of Aix, brought an accusation against Pelagius before Eulogius, metropolitan of Caesarea, who thereupon summoned a synod December, of fourteen bishops to Diospolis (the ancient Lydda). When, however, this assembly met, one of the accusers was sick, and the other excused himself on account of his companion’s illness; so that, as Orosius did not again appear, Pelagius was left to make good his cause without opposition. He disavowed some of the opinions which were imputed to him, and explained others (or explained them away) in a manner which the council admitted as satisfactory. The acts of the Carthaginian synod were read; whereupon Pelagius declined entering into the question whether Celestius held the doctrines there censured, but declared that he himself had never held them. And on being desired to anathematize the holders of these and other errors of which he had been suspected, he consented—professing, however, that he condemned them, not as heretics, but as fools. The council, little versed in western questions, and desirous to act with moderation, acknowledged the orthodoxy of the accused. For this Jerome stigmatized it as a “miserable synod”. Augustine, however, spoke of it more respectfully, and expressed his satisfaction that, although from defective information it had allowed Pelagius to escape, it had yet condemned his errors.

Pelagius was much elated by the result of this inquiry. In a book which he sent forth on the Freedom of the Will, and in his letters, he referred triumphantly to his acquittal by the bishops of Palestine; and he sent Augustine some documents which gave a partial representation of the affair. Augustine, however, was soon after furnished with more complete information by Orosius, who returned to Africa with a collection of papers on the subject; and synods were held there, which condemned Pelagius and Celestius. The African bishops wrote to Innocent, bishop of Rome, requesting that he would join in the sentence—apparently from a fear lest the Pelagian party at Rome should contrive to secure his favour by pressing on him the judgment of the eastern council. An application of this kind could hardly fail to be welcome to Innocent, and he readily complied with the request, taking occasion to accompany his consent with much swelling language about the dignity of his see. But, however desirous the Africans may have been to fortify themselves by the alliance of Rome, they throughout the affair treated with the Roman bishops on a footing of perfect equality.

Innocent died soon after, and was succeeded by Zosimus, who, as being a Greek, was disposed to look favourably on the suspected teachers. Celestius, who had been ordained at Ephesus, appeared again at Rome, where he made a profession of orthodoxy, and requested that his case might be once more examined, declaring that any speculations which he might have vented did not concern the faith. About the same time Zosimus received two letters addressed to his predecessor—the one in favour of Pelagius, from Praylius, who had lately succeeded to the bishopric of Jerusalem; the other from Pelagius himself, artfully vindicating his orthodoxy and stating his belief. By these letters, and by the personal communications of Celestius, Zosimus was won over, and after having held a council, at which Celestius disavowed all doctrines which the apostolic see had condemned, he wrote a letter of reproof to the Africans. He blamed them for having too readily listened to charges against men whose lives had always been correct, and for having exceeded the bounds of theological determination in their synods; he spoke strongly against the characters of Heros and Lazarus, whom he declared to be deposed from their sees; he stated that Celestius made frequent mention of grace; and he required that either the accusers should appear at Rome within two months, or the charges against Pelagius and Celestius should be abandoned. Paulinus, the original accuser, refused to obey this summons. Aurelius, with two synods (the second consisting of two hundred and fourteen bishops), replied that the condemnation which they had passed must stand until the objects of it should have clearly retracted their errors. The African bishops asserted their dependence of Rome; and a “plenary” African synod, of more than two hundred bishops, passed nine canons, which were afterwards generally accepted throughout the church, and came to be regarded as the most important bulwark against Pelagianism. These canons the council forwarded to Rome, telling Zosimus that he himself had been hasty in his credulity, and exposing the artifices by which Celestius had disguised his errors From this time Augustine spoke of the Pelagians no longer as brethren, but as heretics.

The civil power had now mixed in the controversy, probably at the solicitation of the Africans. An imperial rescript was issued, by which, after strong denunciation of Pelagius and Celestius, it was ordered that, if at Rome, they should be expelled; that persons suspected of holding their opinions should be carried before the magistrates, and, in case of conviction, should be banished. Zosimus, pressed by the court and by the anti-Pelagian party in his own city, found it expedient to change his tone. He professed an intention of re-examining the matter, and cited Celestius to appear before a council; whereupon Celestius fled from Rome. Zosimus then condemned the two heresiarchs, declaring that they might be re­admitted to the church as penitents on anathematizing the doctrines imputed to them, but that otherwise they were absolutely and for ever excluded; he issued a circular letter, adopting the African decisions, and he required that this document should be subscribed by all bishops as a test of orthodoxy

Nineteen Italian bishops refused, and were deposed. The most noted among them was Julian of Eclanum, a small town near Beneventum, who from this time became the leading controversialist on the Pelagian side. Julian was son of a bishop named Memorius, who was on terms of friendship with Augustine; he had married the daughter of a bishop, and the union had been graced with a nuptial poem by Paulinus of Nola : and it was perhaps before his deposition that he obtained reputation and influence by giving all that he possessed to the poor during a famine. Julian is described as a man of learning and acuteness, but too confident, and of endless diffuseness and pertinacity as a writer. The founders of the heresy, wishing to remain within the catholic communion, had studied to veil their errors under plausible language, and to represent the points in question as belonging not to theology but to philosophy. But Julian, with an impetuosity which Augustine ascribes to youth, disdained to follow such courses : he accused his own party of cowardice; he taxed the catholics with Manichaeism; he refused to accept any doctrine as scriptural which did not agree with his own views of reason, and declared that the very essence of Christianity was at stake,—that the God of the “traducianists” (as he styled those who held that sin was derived by inheritance) was not the God of the gospel, inasmuch as the character ascribed to him was inconsistent with the divine attribute of justice.

The Pelagians attempted to procure an examination of their case by a general council; whereupon Augustine told them that the matter had already been sufficiently investigated, and that the cry for a general council was only a proof of their self-importance. They repeatedly endeavored to obtain a reversal of the Roman decisions; they applied for an acknowledgment of their orthodoxy at Constantinople, Ephesus, Thessalonica, and elsewhere, and endeavored to be­speak the sympathy of the Greeks by representing the Catholics as Manicheans. But their exertions were all in vain; both ecclesiastical judgments and edicts of the secular power were directed against them. Theodore, bishop of Mopsuestia—although he has been regarded as even the originator of the heresy —although he had written against Augustine’s views, and had sheltered Julian when banished from Italy—is said to have taken the lead in anathematizing the Pelagian tenets at a Cilician synod in 423 and they were condemned by the general council of Ephesus in 431—perhaps the more heartily because the party had been leniently treated by Nestorius, bishop of Constantinople, who was the chief object of the council’s censure.

Pelagius himself disappears from history after the year 418, and, as he was far advanced in life, may be supposed to have died about that time. Nothing is known with certainty as to the end of Celestius and Julian. The founders of Pelagianism had made no attempt to form congregations separate from the church; and although Julian, in the heat of his animosity, had declared against communicating with those whom he branded as Manicheans, he found it impossible to establish a communion of his own. Pelagianism, therefore, never became the badge of a sect, although its adherents, when detected, were excluded from the orthodox communion.

The fundamental question between Pelagius and his opponents related to the idea of Free-Will. By this term, Pelagius understood an unbiassed power of choosing between good and evil; and such a faculty he maintained that man has, since the power of choice is essential to responsibility, and there can be no sin or guilt unless where there is voluntary evil. Augustine, on the other hand, taught that freedom must be distinguished from the power of choice. God, he said, is free, although his nature excludes the possibility of his choosing or doing anything that is evil; hence a natural and necessary limitation to good is higher than a state of balance between good and evil; and such a balance cannot be, since the possibility of inclining to evil is a defect. Man is not free to choose between good and evil, but is governed either by grace or by sin. Our free-will, without grace, can do only evil; the direction of the will to good must be God’s gracious gift. Grace does not take away freedom, but works with the will, whose true freedom is the love of that which is good.

Since Scripture undeniably refers all good to grace, Pelagius acknowledged this in words; but he understood the term grace in senses of his own, as meaning merely external gifts and benefits—the being and constitution of man; free-will itself; the call to everlasting happiness; the forgiveness of sins in baptism, apart from any influence on the later spiritual course; the knowledge of God’s will, the law and the gospel; the example of the Saviour’s life : and if he sometimes used the word to signify the influence of the Holy Spirit on the soul, he did not represent this influence as necessary to the work of salvation, but only as rendering it easier. Pelagius laboured to exclude from the notion of grace anything that might be inconsistent with free-will; Augustine, everything that might savour of merit on the part of man. Distinguishing three stages in good,—the capacity, the will, and the performance,—Pelagius referred the first to God's gift, but regarded the others as within the power of human nature. Augustine, on the contrary, refused to admit the idea of a grace bestowed according to the previous receptivity of the soul because this, as he thought, placed the determination in human merit. Grace must, by its very name, be gratuitous; the will to do good must be God's gift, as well as the capacity.

While Augustine held that the fall had injured man both spiritually and physically; that by communion with God Adam was enabled to live a higher life; that he might have avoided sin, and, if he had not sinned, would have been raised to perfection without tasting of death, even as the angels, after having borne their probation in a lower degree of grace, were endowed with that higher measure of it which lifts above the possibility of falling and confers immortality :—Pelagius maintained that man’s original constitution was mortal; that Adam was originally placed as we are, and that we are not inferior to him. The passages in which St. Paul speaks of death as the punishment of sin, he interpreted as meaning spiritual death only. Augustine taught that in Adam all men sinned; that, in punishment of the first sin, sin is transmitted by generation to all mankind; that although, under the guidance of grace directing his free-will, man might live without sin, this sinless life has never been actually realized. Pelagius, on the contrary, supposed that Adam’s sin did not affect his posterity otherwise than as an example; that there is indeed a deterioration of the race through custom of sinning, even as an individual man becomes worse through indulgence in sinful habits; that this comes to affect us like a nature, and has required occasional interpositions of the Divine mercy by revelations and otherwise; but that man had all along been able to live without sin; that some men had in fact so lived; and that, if this had been possible under the earlier dispensations—nay, even in heathenism—much more must it be possible for us under the gospel, which gives additional motives, higher rules of righteousness, and the light of a brighter Example. According to Pelagius, the saints of the Old Testament were justified by the Law; but Augustine held that in spirit they belonged to the New Testament; that they were justified through faith in Christ, and through his grace which was bestowed on them by anticipation. Pelagius saw mainly in Christ nothing more than a teacher and a pattern. His death, although it was allowed to be efficacious for sinners, could not (it was supposed) confer any benefit on those who had no sin; the living union of the faithful with him was an idea as foreign to the system of this teacher as the union of the natural man with Adam in death. Pelagius, however, did not deviate from the doctrine of the church with respect to the Saviour’s Godhead.

The practice of infant baptism, which was by this time universally regarded as apostolical, was urged against Pelagius. His opponents argued from the baptismal rites—the exorcisms, the renunciation of the devil, the profession of belief in the remission of sins. Why, they asked, should infants be baptized with such ceremonies for the washing away of sin, if they do not bring sin into the world with them? The Pelagians answered that infants dying in their natural state would attain “eternal life”, which they supposed to be open to all, whether baptized or not; but that baptism was necessary for the higher blessedness of entrance into “the kingdom of heaven”, which is the especial privilege of the gospel; that, as baptism was for all the means of admission to the fullness of the Christian blessings, the baptismal remission of sin must, in the case of infants, have a view to their future life on earth. Augustine taught that infants dying without baptism must fall under condemnation. As to the nature of this, however, he did not venture to pronounce, and his language respecting it varies; sometimes he expresses a belief that their state would be preferable to non-existence, but at other times his views are more severe. With respect to baptism, Augustine held that it conveys forgiveness of all past sins whatever, whether original or actual : that by it we receive regeneration, adoption, and redemption; but that there yet remains in us a weakness against which the regenerate must struggle here through God's help, and which will not be done away with until that further “regeneration when the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory”. The doctrine of this remaining infirmity was represented by the Pelagians as disparaging the efficacy of the baptismal sacrament

Pelagius supposed that God had furnished man naturally with all that is needful for living without sin and keeping the commandments, and that the use of these gifts depends on our own will; Augustine, that at every point man needs fresh supplies of divine and supernatural aid. Pelagius understood justification to be merely the outward act of forgiveness; whereas Augustine saw in it also an inward purification through the power of grace. Grace, he held, does not constrain the will, but delivers it from bondage, and makes it truly free; he distinguished it into—(1.) the preventing grace, which gives the first motions towards goodness; (2.) the operating, which produces the free-will to good; (3.) the cooperaing, which supports the will in its struggles, and enables it to carry its desire into act; and lastly, (4.) the gift of perseverance.

The existence of evil was a great difficulty which exercised the mind of Augustine. He thought that, as everything must be from God, and as He can only will what is good, therefore evil is nothing—not, as in the Manichaean system, the opposite of good, but only the defect or privation of good, as darkness is the absence of light, or as silence is the absence of sound. It has, however, been remarked that the power which he ascribes to evil is hardly consistent with this idea of its merely negative quality—unless, indeed, his terms be understood in a meaning which they do not naturally suggest; and some of his arguments on this subject must appear (to ordinary readers at least) to be little better than a play on words.

Augustine in one of his early works had laid down that predestination is grounded on foreknowledge—an opinion which had been commonly held in the church. As his views on the subject of grace became developed, he had been led to teach a more absolute predestination; but it was not until the Pelagian controversy was far advanced that he set forth distinctly, and in connexion with the rest of his system, those doctrines as to predestination which have entered so largely into the controversies of later times. The occasion for his treating the subject was given by a report of serious dissensions which took place about the year 426 at Adrumetum, where some monks, on the ground (as they supposed) of one of Augustine’s epistles, disturbed their brethren by denying the freedom of the will and a future judgment according to works. On this Augustine wrote a letter in which he laid down the necessity of believing both in the Divine grace and in the freedom of the will. “If there be no grace of God”, he asks, “how doth He save the world? if there be no free-will, how doth He judge the world?”, and he devoted two treatises to the examination of the points in question. In these books he still maintained the freedom of man’s will; but he held that this essential freedom was not inconsistent with the existence of an outward necessity controlling it in the prosecution of its desires. Our will, he said, can do that which God wills, and which He foresees that it will do; will, therefore, depends on the divine foreknowledge.

God had from eternity determined to rescue some of human kind from the misery brought on us by sin. The number of these is fixed, so that it can neither be increased nor diminished; even before they have a being, they are the children of God; if they deviate from the right way, they are brought back to it; they cannot perish. As God, being almighty, might save all, and as many are not saved, it follows that he does not will the salvation of all—a tenet which Augustine laboriously tried to reconcile with St. Paul’s declaration that He “will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth” (I Tim. II. 4). The elect are supplied with all gifts which are requisite for bringing them to salvation, and grace works irresistibly in them. The ground of their election is inscrutable—resting on the secret counsel of God. He does not predestine any to destruction; for his predestination regards such things only as he himself works, whereas sin is not his work; but he knows who are not chosen and will not be saved. These perish either through unforgiven original sin, or through actual transgression. That they have no portion in Christ is no ground for impugning the Divine justice : for if God do not give grace to all, he is not bound to give it to any; even among men, a creditor may forgive debts to some, and not to others. “By giving to some that which they do not deserve, God has willed that his grace shall be truly gratuitous, and therefore real; by not giving to all, he shows what all deserve. He is good in benefiting the certain number, and just in punishing the rest. He is both good in all cases, since it is good when that which is due is paid; and just in all, since it is just when that which is not due is given, without wrong to any one”. Those who are lost deserve their condemnation, because they have rejected grace either in their own persons or in that of the common father. Persons who are not of the elect may be baptized, and may for a time live piously, so that in the sight of men they are God’s children; but they are never such in God’s sight, since he foresees their end. If they go on well for a time, they are not removed from the world until, lacking the gift of perseverance, they have fallen away. That God gives to some men faith, hope, charity, but not perseverance, is astonishing; but it is not so much so as that, among the children of religious parents, he brings some to his kingdom by baptism, while others, dying unbaptized, are shut out; nor is it less wonderful that some perish through not having heard the gospel — (for “faith cometh by hearing”) — than that others perish through not having received the gift of perseverance. And, since worldly gifts are variously bestowed, why should it not be so with this gift also? There are, however, differences of degree in the condemnation of those who are not elect; thus, although those who have never heard the gospel will not on account of their ignorance escape the eternal fire, their punishment will probably be less than that of sinners who have willfully rejected knowledge.

In this system there was much of a new and startling character—the doctrines of absolute predestination, of irresistible grace, of the limitation of Christ's benefits to the subjects of an arbitrary election. Augustine himself was able to look on these doctrines as encouragements to trust in God; he exhorted others to do the same, and teachers to set them forth in that light, without ques­tioning as to the election of individuals, or driving any to despair through the apprehension of being hopelessly reprobate. But we cannot wonder that they were regarded with alarm by many, both on account of the novelties of the theory and for the sake of practical consequences.

A middle party arose, which is known by the name of Semipelagian, originally given to it by the schoolmen of the middle ages. Its leader, Cassian of Marseilles, was a person of considerable note and influence. He is described as a Scythian—a term which has been variously interpreted, and notwithstanding which some authorities suppose him to have been a native of Gaul. He had been trained in a monastery at Bethlehem, and, after a long residence among the monks of Egypt (as to whose manner of life his works are a principal source of information), had been ordained a deacon by St. Chrysostom, after whose banishment he was entrusted by the clergy of Constantinople with a mission to Innocent of Rome. The occasion and the date of his settlement at Marseilles are uncertain; he had founded there a monastery for each sex, and had been raised to the order of presbyter. Unlike Pelagius, whose opinions he strongly reprobated, Cassian acknowledged that all men sinned in Adam; that all have both hereditary and actual sin; that we are naturally inclined to evil; and that for every good thing—the beginning, the continuance, and the ending—we need the aid of supernatural grace. But, although he maintained that grace is gratuitous—although he admitted that, in the infinite varieties of God’s dealings with men, the first call to salvation sometimes proceeds from preventing grace, and takes effect even on the unwilling—he supposed that ordinarily the working of grace depends on the determination of man’s own will; that God is the receiver of the willing, as well as the Saviour of the unwilling. As examples of those who are called without their own will, he referred to St. Matthew and St. Paul; for proof that in some cases the will precedes the call, he alleged Zacchaeus and the penitent thief,—as to whom he made the obvious mistake of regarding the recorded part of their story as if it were the whole. He held that God furnishes man’s nature with the seeds of virtue, although grace be needful to develop them; that Christ died for all men, and that grace is offered to all; that there is a twofold predestination—the general, by which God wills the salvation of all men, and the special, by which he determines the salvation of those as to whom he foresees that they will make a right use of grace and will persevere; that the notion of an irrespective predestination is to be rejected, as destructive of all motive to exertion, alike in the elect and in the reprobate, and as implying the gnostic error that there are species of men naturally distinct from each other; and that, in any case, predestination ought not to be popularly taught, inasmuch as the teaching of it might be mischievous, whereas the omission of the doctrine could do no practical harm. Faith and good works (it was said) although they do not deserve grace, are motives to the bestowal of it. Grace must work with our own will and endeavour; it may be lost, and is to be retained by man’s free­will—not by a gift of perseverance. God’s purpose and calling, according to Cassian, bring men by baptism to salvation; yet the benefits of the Saviour’s death extend to persons who in this life were never made members of him—their readiness to believe being discerned by God and reckoned to their credit. In like manner children who die in infancy are dealt with according to God’s foreknowledge of what they would have become if they had been allowed to live longer : those who would have used grace rightly are brought by baptism to salvation; the others die unbaptized.

These opinions found much favour in the south of Gaul, and reports of their progress were sent by two men, Prosper and Hilary to Augustine, who thereupon wrote two treatises, which his Jansenist biographer declares to be nothing less than inspired. 

In these books he spoke of his opponents with high regard; he acknowledged the great and funda­mental difference between them and the Pelagians; he treated them as being united with himself as to essentials, and he expressed a trust that God would bring them to the fullness of a sound belief. The further history of Semipelagianism will come under our notice hereafter.

During the last years of Augustine’s life, Africa was overwhelmed by a barbaric invasion; and the author of the calamity was one with whom he had long been on terms of friendship,—the imperial general, count Boniface. Boniface had at one time been so deeply impressed by religious feeling that he would have entered a monastery but for the dissuasions of Augustine and Alypius, who told him that he might do better by living Christianly in his military station, and exerting himself for the safety of his country. He afterwards, however, married a second wife, of Arian family; and although she had professed Catholicism, it is said that the general, after entering into this connexion, declined both in faith and in morals.

Aetius, the rival of Boniface in power and in military distinction, basely endeavoured to undermine him. By representing him as engaged in treasonable designs, he persuaded Placidia, the sister of Honorius, who governed in the name of her son, the young Valentinian, to recall the general from Africa; and at the same time, by telling Boniface that his ruin was intended, he induced him to disobey the summons. Boniface fell into the snare, raised the standard of revolt, and invited to his assistance the Vandals, who about the year 420 had established themselves in the south of Spain. A large body of them, under the command of Gieserich or Genseric, passed into Africa, where they were joined by the Moors and by the fanatical Donatists—eager to take vengeance on the Catholics for many years of depression. The province was cruelly ravaged; the clergy in particular were marks for the enmity both of the Donatists and of the Arian invaders. Boniface, who had been urged by Augustine to return to his allegiance, was deeply distressed by the savage proceedings of his allies, and, by means of explanations with the court, he discovered the treachery of Aetius. Vainly imagining himself able to undo the mischief which he had caused, he requested the Vandals to withdraw from Africa, but was answered with derision, and found himself obliged to have recourse to arms as the only hope of delivering his country from the consequences of his imprudence. But his forces were unequal to the enemy; and, after having been defeated in the field, he shut himself up in Hippo with the remains of his army.

Augustine was indefatigable in his labours during the invasion. He continued a long and elaborate treatise against the Pelagian Julian of Eclanum; he wrote other controversial works, and endeavoured by letters of advice and consolation to support the minds of his brethren in their trials. His pastoral cares were increased by the multitudes of all classes who had sought a refuge within the walls of Hippo; and soon after the Vandals had laid siege to the town, he fell sick in consequence of his exertions. Wishing to secure his devotions from interruption, he directed that his friends should not be admitted to him, except at the times when medicine or food was administered. He desired that the penitential psalms should be hung up within his sight, and read them over and over with a profusion of tears. On the 28th of August, 430, he was taken to his rest.

 

 

CHAPTER III.

NESTORIANISM.

 

The younger Theodosius was carefully educated under the care of his sister Pulcheria, and throughout his life was directed by her influence. His character was mild, but feeble. The nature of his piety may be inferred from a story which Theodoret tells in commendation of it. An impudent monk, after having repeatedly met with a refusal in some application to the emperor, excommunicated him. When meal-time arrived, Theodosius declared that he would not eat until he were absolved, and sent to beg that the bishop of Constantinople would desire the monk to take off his excommunication. The bishop answered that no heed ought to be paid to such a sentence; but Theodosius could not be at ease until the monk was found and was prevailed on to recall it. Pulcheria vowed virginity, and persuaded her three sisters to join in the vow; the life and occupations of the imperial family resembled those of a monastic society.

In 421 Pulcheria provided her brother with a consort, Athenais, the orphan daughter of an Athenian rhetorician. The empress took the name of Eudocia, and gave birth to a daughter, Eudoxia, who, in 437, was married to the emperor of the west, Valentinian the Third. The mother then obtained leave to visit the Holy Land, where she expended immense sums on churches, monasteries, and hospitals; and on returning to Constantinople, she brought with her some relics which were regarded as exceedingly precious. But soon after her return, she fell into disgrace, probably in consequence of having aspired to counteract the ascendency of Pulcheria, and the remainder of her days was spent in penitential retirement at Jerusalem.

The state of the Christians in Persia drew the empire into a war with that country. Maruthas, a Mesopotamian bishop, after having laboured with much success among the Persians as a missionary, had been sent by Arcadius as an envoy to the king, Yezdegerd. While thus employed, he detected and exposed the arts by which the magi endeavoured to work on the superstitious feelings of the king; in consequence of his exertions, a complete liberty of religion was obtained for the Christians, and it was hoped that Yezdegerd himself would become a convert. But this state of things was reversed through the indiscretion of a bishop named Abdas, who destroyed a temple of the national religion. The king summoned him into his presence, mildly reproved him, and ordered him to restore the building, under pain of death and of retaliation on the Christian churches. As Abdas obstinately refused, the king found himself obliged to execute his threats, and in consequence of this affair his disposition towards the Christians was changed. Many of them were put to death with frightful tortures, and after some intermission during the last years of Yezdegerd, the persecution was renewed with greater violence under his successor, Bairam, or Vararanes. A The frontiers of Persia were guarded, lest the Christians should escape; but some of them made their way to Constantinople, and represented the sufferings of their community to the emperor. Theodosius refused to give up the fugitives; and a war ensued, which, after some years, was concluded in favour of the Romans. In the course of this war, Acacius, bishop of Amida, distinguished himself by a remarkable act of charity. Having learnt that seven thousand Persian captives were in his neighborhood, he called his clergy together, and, reminding them that the God of Christians had no need of cups or dishes, as being Himself all-sufficient, he proposed to sell the gold and silver vessels of the church. With the price he ransomed the captives, and, after having entertained them until they were recovered from the effect of their privations, he sent them to the Persian king, as evidences of the real spirit of Christianity.

By the death of Theodosius, in 450, Pulcheria became in her own right empress of the east. Feeling, however, that a female reign was a hazardous novelty, she bestowed her hand on a nominal husband, Marcian, a senator sixty years of age; and his conduct amply justified the choice.

For some years the empire had been kept in terror by Attila, king of the Huns, who extorted humiliating submissions and concessions from Theodosius. Marcian resolved to deal more boldly with this enemy; he refused the tribute which his predecessor had paid, and Attila threatened vengeance. But before attempting to execute his purpose, the barbarian leader turned his arms against the empire of the west, where Aetius, after having effected the ruin of his rival Boniface, had gained an entire ascendency, and for twenty years sustained with admirable vigour throne of the feeble and depraved Valentinian. Attila, at the head of an immense host, had penetrated as far as Orleans, spreading desolation along his course, when Aetius, who had been urged to action by Anian, bishop of that city, advanced against him with a force composed of Romans and allies, of whom the most important were the Visigoths of southern Gaul, under Theodoric, the son of Alaric. The Huns, who had already entered Orleans, were driven off. Attila was defeated in the great battle of the plains of Chalons, and was compelled to retreat across the Rhine. In the following year he invaded Italy; but the peninsula was saved from the apprehended ravages of his host by the mediation of Leo, bishop of Rome, who, with two high officers of the empire, waited on him in the neighborhood of Mantua, and persuaded him to retire on receiving a large sum of money. A few months later, the sudden death of the king, while employed in preparations for an attack on Marcian, and the consequent dissolution of the Hunnish monarchy, relieved both divisions of the empire from the fear with which he had inspired them.

In the year after the death of Attila, Valentinian, on a suspicion that Aetius aimed at the crown, stabbed him at an interview in the palace; and, having treacherously violated the wife of a senator named Maximus, he fell a victim to the vengeance of the husband, which was executed by two of the murdered general’s adherents

On the death of Sisinnius, the successor of Atticus at Constantinople, a contest arose between the partisans of Philip of Side and Proclus. Both had been candidates in opposition to the late bishop; Proclus had since been consecrated by Sisinnius for Cyzicum, but, as the people of that city denied the right of the bishop of Constantinople to appoint their pastor, he had been unable to get possession of the see. The court, with a view to allay the strife of parties, resolved that the vacancy should not be filled by any of the Constantinopolitan clergy, and made choice of Nestorius, a presbyter of Antioch. Nestorius had been a monk; he was of blameless life, had some character for learning, and was celebrated for his fluent and sonorous oratory; while he is charged with pride, vanity, and an eager desire of popularity, which led him (it is said) to make an ostentatious display of sanctity in his behaviour, and to affect an ambitious and unsubstantial style in preaching. In addition to his personal reputation, the circumstance that he came from the same church with the revered Chrysostom rendered the nomination acceptable at Constantinople; and he was willingly elected by the clergy and people.

The new bishop entered on his office with a great display of zeal against heresy. Preaching in the cathedral on the day of his enthronement, he addressed the emperor—“Give me earth cleared of heretics, and I will give you the kingdom of heaven in return; aid me in subduing the heretics, and I will aid you to subdue the Persians!”. The words were loudly applauded; but we are told that the wiser of the hearers conceived from them no favourable idea of the speaker’s modesty and prudence.

This declaration of war was speedily followed up by deeds. Five days later the bishop attacked a meeting-house of the Arians; the congregation in despair burnt it down; the flames reached to other buildings, and Nestorius got the name of “the incendiary”. He also persecuted other sectaries, and procured from the emperor a severe law against them. Socrates particularly notices his proceedings against the Novatianists — a sect to which the historian himself inclined, and which Atticus had always spared, on the ground that they had suffered from the Arians in common with the catholics, and that, as their separation was so ancient, their agreement in the doctrine of the Trinity was a valuable witness to the orthodoxy of the church.

Nestorius himself was soon to fall under suspicion of heresy.

The schools of Alexandria and Antioch had been led, by their characteristic difference of tone, and by the necessity of opposing the several errors which more immediately pressed on each, to a diversity of view and expression on the subject of the Saviour’s incarnation. At Alexandria, where Arianism was the enemy to be com­bated, the Divinity was so strongly insisted on that language is found, even in the writings of Athanasius himself, which at a later time would have been a token of Eutychianism; as where he speaks of “not two natures, but one incarnate nature of God the Word”. Although the distinctness of the Godhead and the manhood was recognized, the natures were viewed in their union; and as the Person in whom they met was one, the properties of one nature were, in speaking of him, transferred to the other. Thus that which in strictness could belong only to his manhood, was predicated of him as God, since the personality was in his Godhead before he assumed the nature of man; “God” (it was said) “was born, suffered, redeemed us with his blood”. In the west, a doctrine resembling that with which the name of Nestorius was afterwards connected, had been broached by a Gaulish presbyter named Leporius, who also held questionable opinions as to original sin. Augustine, who succeeded in convincing him of his errors, illustrated the communication of properties in the Saviour by saying that we may speak of a “philosopher” as killed, dead, or buried, although it is in the body that such things befall the man, and not in that part of him to which the quality of philosopher belongs.

On the other hand, the Syrians—having to contend against Apollinarianism, with its denial of the Saviour’s entire humanity, and its consequent fusion of the God­head and the manhood into a third something, different from either—were under a necessity of carefully distinguishing between the two natures. This method appears more scientifically correct than the other; but, in a school of rationalistic tendency (if the word may be used without conveying too strong an idea) it was likely to become dangerous. Diodore, afterwards bishop of Tarsus, and Theodore, afterwards bishop of Mopsuestia— the former Chrysostom’s master, the latter his fellow-student and friend—were distinguished as teachers in this school, and introduced a system of explaining Scripture by the aid of history, criticism, and philology, whereas until their time commentators had been divided between the merely literal and the allegorical methods. Diodore and Theodore, therefore, may be regarded as the forerunners of modern interpretation; but it would seem that with the merits of their system they combined an inclination to lower and improperly to humanize the meaning of holy writ. For nearly fifty years Theodore maintained the cause of the church in controversy with various classes of assailants, and throughout his life his orthodoxy was regarded as unimpeachable. He was, however, afterwards represented by some as the father both of Nestorianism and of Pelagianism, and his memory became the subject of disputes which widely disturbed the church. Nestorius has been described as a pupil of Theodore; but the description, if meant to imply a personal relation between the two, is probably incorrect. Nor is much faith to be given to a story that Nestorius, on his way to take possession of his see, visited the bishop of Mopsuestia, who was then near his end, and that during this visit he imbibed the opinions which are associated with his name.

The first outbreak of the Nestorian controversy was on the occasion a sermon in which Anastasius—a presbyter who had accompanied the bishop of Constantinople from Antioch, and was much in his confidence—attacked the use of the word Theotokos (bearer or mother of God), as applied to the blessed Virgin. Mary, he said, was human, and from man God cannot be born. The term thus called in question had been used in the preceding century by Eusebius of Caesarea, by Athanasius, the two Gregories, and others; the import of it was not to imply that the blessed Virgin communicated the Divine nature to the Saviour, but to affirm the union of Godhead and man­hood in one Person, “because the Son of God took not to himself a man’s person, but the nature only of a man”. To the Syrians, however, the word appeared to involve the Apollinarian error of a confusion between the two natures; while the refusal of it by Anastasius suggested to his hearers at Constantinople the idea that the new bishop and his party maintained the mere humanity of the Redeemer — supposing the Spirit to have dwelt in Him only in the same manner as in the prophets.

Nestorius supported his friend by preaching a number of sermons, in which he brought forward quibbling and sophistical objections to the term Theotokos. If this expression were to be allowed (he said), the heathens might be excused for assigning mothers to their deities; the blessed Virgin ought in truth not to be styled Theotokos, but Theodochos, as having received God within her. Proclus, the late candidate for the see, preaching in the cathedral on a festival to which the subject was appropriate, eloquently asserted the use of Theotokos and his discourse was received with enthusiasm : when Nestorius rose and objected to the preacher's doctrine as confounding the two natures. He declared, however, that he did not refuse to use the word Theotokos, provided that it were rightly explained, so as not to deify the blessed Virgin herself;  but if she were to be styled mother of God, the phrase must be balanced by also styling her mother of man—mother of the tabernacle prepared by the Holy Spirit for the habitation of the Divine Word. He therefore proposed to speak of her as Christotokos (mother of Christ)—a term which would denote her relation to Him who is both God and man. It may, he said, be affirmed that Christ has the attributes of either nature; but not that God was born, or that man may be adored.

The excitement at Constantinople was immense. Nestorius continued to preach on the subject in dispute, and was often interrupted in his sermons. Eusebius, an advocate, who afterwards became bishop of Dorylaeum, charged him with the heresy of Paul of Samosata, and openly placarded a parallel between the two systems. The monks and most of the clergy were against the bishop, and old jealousies connected with the election were revived among them; while the court supported him, and the majority of the people were as yet favourable to him, although many withdrew from his communion. He tells us that some of his opponents threatened to throw him into the sea; and from the petition of some monks against him we learn that he himself made liberal use of deposition, whipping, banishment, and other forcible means against such of them as were subject to his jurisdiction.

In the controversy which had thus arisen, as in the great controversy of the preceding century, the chief champion of orthodoxy was a bishop of Alexandria; but his character and policy remind us less of Athanasius than of his own uncle and immediate predecessor Theophilus.

Cyril had passed five years among the monks of Nitria; but his friend the abbot Isidore of Pelusium, a man of great piety and sincerity, tells him, in a letter written during this period, that, while he was praying in the desert, his heart was still fixed on the world. In 412, on the death of Theophilus, he was elected to the see of Alexandria after a contest with the archdeacon Timothy. In the administration of his office he showed himself covetous and rapacious; he left at his death a large property, amassed from the revenues of the church; he is even charged with simoniacal practices. The earlier years of his episcopate were marked by many displays of violence. He acquired for his see an amount of secular power such as had not till then been attached to any bishopric; he proceeded with great severity against the Novatianists; he expelled the Jews from Alexandria on account of a bloody tumult in the theatre, and in consequence of this act he quarrelled with the prefect, Orestes. A legion of fanatical monks from Nitria descended on the city, and attacked the prefect; one of them, who had hit him with a stone, was executed for the offence, and was thereupon canonized by Cyril as a martyr. The coolness with which the prefect regarded the bishop after these scenes was ascribed by the populace to the influence of Hypatia, a beautiful and learned virgin, whose lectures in philosophy drew admiring crowds to Alexandria; and in this belief, a mob of parabolani and others, headed by a reader named Peter, attacked her in the street, dragged her from her chariot, hurried her into the cathedral church, and there barbarously murdered her. That Cyril had any share in the atrocity appears to be an unsupported calumny; but the perpetrators were mostly officers of his church, who had unquestionably drawn encouragement from his earlier proceedings; and his character deservedly suffered in consequence of their outrage.

Cyril had accompanied his uncle in the expedition to Constantinople which proved so disastrous to Chrysostom. He held out longer than any other metropolitan against the insertion of Chrysostom’s name in the diptychs of the church, even when Atticus of Constantinople entreated him to yield for the sake of peace; nor, although he was at length persuaded to admit the name, and sometimes spoke respectfully of the great preacher’s eloquence, did his feeling towards the memory of Chrysostom ever become cordial. And it is evident that the same desire to humble the newly-exalted see of Constantinople which had actuated Theophilus in his enmity to Chrysostom mixed also with Cyril’s motives in his proceedings against Nestorius

The bishop of Alexandria was drawn into the controversy by finding that copies of Nestorius’ sermons had been circulated among the Egyptian monks, and that many of these had consequently abandoned the term Theotokos. He denounced the novelty in his paschal letter of 430, and entered into a correspondence with Nestorius himself, in which both parties soon became angry, while he also opened a communication with some clergy and monks of Constantinople who were opposed to their archbishop. It would seem to have been in consequence of the irritation caused by Cyril’s letters that Dorotheus, a bishop attached to Nestorius, on some occasion when the archbishop was seated on his throne, rose up in the cathedral, and loudly uttered an anathema against all who used the title Theotokos. Nestorius accused Cyril of having caused the disturbance which ensued at Constantinople. Some Alexandrians of worthless character, who were there, charged their bishop with various misdemeanours, which Nestorius threatened to bring before a general council. Cyril replied that he should rejoice if his affairs contributed towards the assembling of such a council, but that he would not allow his opponent to sit as one of his judges. He declared himself willing to sacrifice everything for the suppression of Nestorius' heresies and, in order to detach the court from the opposite party, he addressed a treatise on the orthodox faith to Theodosius, and another to Pulcheria and Eudocia.

Nestorius had more than once applied to Celestine, bishop of Rome, for information as to the Pelagians, some of whose leaders were then at Constantinople; but he had not received any answer. He now repeated his inquiries, and added some account of the new controversy which had arisen. Cyril also applied to Celestine, but more skillfully; for whereas Nestorius had addressed the Roman bishop as an equal, the bishop of Alexandria adopted a strain of deference, or rather subserviency, of which there had been no example on the part of any one among his predecessors. His representation of Nestorius’ opinions procured from Celestine and a Roman synod a condemnation of the bishop of Constantinople as a heretic, with a letter announcing to him that he would be deposed and excommunicated, to unless within ten days after receiving it he should conform to the faith of Rome and Alexandria, and restore all whom he had deposed on account of the late disputes. Cyril was authorized to execute this sentence as plenipotentiary of the Roman bishop; and at the same time Celestine wrote to the church of Constantinople, and to John, bishop of Antioch, denouncing the errors of Nestorius, and intimating the condemnation which was to be pronounced if the archbishop should persist in them.

Cyril also wrote to some eastern bishops, giving his statement of the controversy. From Acacius of Berrhoea (who was now a hundred and ten years old), from John of Antioch, and others, he received answers disapproving of what had been said by Nestorius, and more especially by Dorotheus, but entreating him to avoid an open breach. John, in the name of several other bishops, wrote to Nestorius, expressing full confidence in his orthodoxy, and advising him not to insist on unnecessary scruples as to the disputed term; and, as Nestorius had professed his willingness to adhere to the doctrine of the fathers, and to admit the word Theotokos in a certain sense, the patriarch of Antioch flattered himself that peace would be easily restored.

After some delay, Cyril forwarded the Roman letter to Nestorius, with one written in the name of an Alexandrian council, which summoned the bishop of Constantinople to forswear his errors, and concluded with twelve anathemas, which it required him to subscribe. To these Nestorius replied by a like number of counter-anathemas, which, in their turn, were answered at far greater length by Marius Mercator, a zealous layman from the west, who was then resident at Constantinople, and had already made himself conspicuous by his energetic opposition to Pelagianism. Of the propositions thus put forth on each side, while some are really contradictory of each other, others, in words studiously contrasted, express different sides of the same truth. The leading object of Cyril is to assert the unity of the Saviour’s person, while that of Nestorius is to guard against a confusion of His natures. Cyril expressed the combination of natures by the term union; Nestorius, by conjunction. The Alexandrian anathemas produced a great commotion in the east, where they were regarded as doing away with the distinction of natures in the Saviour. John of Antioch wished that they should be generally condemned as Apollinarian, and treatises were written against them by Andrew, bishop of Samosata, and by Theodoret, bishop of Cyrus.

The last-named of these objectors was the most learned divine of whom the eastern church could in that age boast. He was born at Antioch about 390, and is supposed to have studied under Theodore of Mopsuestia, of whose writings he was certainly a diligent reader and a zealous admirer. About the year 420 he was elected to fill the see of Cyrus or Cyrrhus, in the Euphratensian province, where he laboured with great activity and success to extirpate the heresies with which his diocese had been infested,—often even exposing his life to danger from the fury of the Marcionites and other sectaries, who held possession of entire villages. His influence over his clergy is attested by the fact that in five-and-twenty years not one of them had appeared before a secular tribunal. Nor was his care for his people limited to spiritual things; he devoted the whole of his income to their benefit, erected bridges, baths, and other public buildings, and induced persons skilled in physic and other useful arts to settle at Cyrus. The variety of Theodoret’s literary merit was extraordinary; it has been said of him that he equally well sustains the character of a commentator, a theologian, a historian, a controversialist, an apologist, and a writer on practical religion. Throughout the differences of his time he was the most eminent leader on the oriental side; but his moderation and fairness were ill appreciated amid the rage of party strife, and he suffered from the violence of opposite factions.

Finding himself beset by the patriarchs of Rome and Alexandria, Nestorius saw no other chance of escape from his difficulties than an appeal to a general council. Some of his opponents had already petitioned for such an assembly; and in November 430 Theodosius, in his own name and in that of the western emperor, issued orders for the meeting of representatives of the whole church at Ephesus. The time appointed was the following Whitsuntide, and in the meanwhile things were to remain as they were, so that the execution of the Roman decree was suspended. Each metropolitan was to bring with him so many of his suffragans as he might think expedient—taking care that a number sufficient for the performance of the ordinary pastoral duties should be left. The citation addressed to Cyril was accompanied by a special letter from Theodosius, in which the patriarch was charged with pride, turbulence, assumption of rights which belonged to a general council alone, and with fondness for intruding into palaces, as if there were discord between relations, or as if he hoped to set them at variance. This last charge, which refers to the separate letter written by Cyril to Eudocia and Pulcheria, appears to indicate that the suspicion imputed to him was not without foundation. Of bishops below the degree of metropolitan, Augustine alone was honoured with an invitation by name; but, unhappily for the council, he had died some months before.

Nestorius arrived at Ephesus soon after Easter (April 19th), attended by sixteen bishops. Before Whitsuntide (June 7th), Cyril appeared at the head of fifty bishops, with a large train of sailors and other disorderly persons. About forty bishops were with Memnon, metropolitan of Ephesus, a man of unscrupulous character, who  had a special motive for taking part with Cyril against the patriarch of Constantinople, inasmuch as the independence of his own ‘apostolical’ church was in danger from the neighborhood of the new capital. The African church was prevented by the Vandal invasion from sending any representative to the council; but Capreolus, of Carthage, wrote a letter, entreating that the fathers would not countenance any novelty. Celestine, of Rome, deputed two bishops and a presbyter to represent himself and “the whole council of the west”, with directions to guide themselves by Cyril’s judgment, and to consult the dignity of the apostolic see by acting as judges, not as disputants. These, however, had not yet reached Ephesus. Candidian, count of the domestics, was commissioned by the emperor to keep order. In obedience to his instructions, he commanded that all monks and lay strangers should leave Ephesus, and that no bishop should under any pretence absent himself until the business of the council should have been concluded. About two hundred bishops were assembled, but John of Antioch had not yet appeared. The beginning of his journey had been delayed, partly by the difficulty of collecting his suffragans, who were unable to leave their homes until after the octave of Easter, and partly by disturbances in his city on account of a scarcity; and the state of the roads, flooded by heavy rains, had obliged him to travel slowly, with the loss of many horses by the way. The bishops who were already at Ephesus, while waiting for the arrival of John and the orientals, engaged in frequent informal discussions, which tended rather to exasperate than to heal their differences Nestorius declared that his life was in danger from the ruffians of Cyril’s train, and from the peasants who were at the beck of Memnon; while the opposite party complained against the soldiers who acted as a guard to the bishop of Constantinople.

On the 21st of June, Cyril, who, in virtue of the dignity of his see, assumed the presidency of the council, declared that he would wait no longer, although he had received a courteous letter from John, apologizing for his delay, and stating that he was within a few days’ journey of Ephesus. Nestorius was cited to appear before the council next day; he answered that he would attend when John should be present, or when summoned by Candidian. Theodoret and sixty-seven other bishops, of whom twenty-two were metropolitans, protested against proceeding to business without the presence of the Orientals. But the council met on the following day, in the church of St. Mary, where the Theotokos was believed to have been interred. Candidian attended, and, at the desire of the bishops, read his commission from the emperor. His request that four days might be allowed for the arrival of the Orientals was refused; and as the commission restrained him from entering into questions of doctrine, on the ground that these belonged to the bishops alone, he was—not without indignity, as he complains—obliged to leave the church, after protesting that anything which might be done in opposition to his directions should be of no effect. The bishops refused even to look at the memorial of their sixty-eight brethren. A second and a third citation were sent to Nestorius, but his guard prevented the delivery of them.

The council proceeded to the question for the consideration of which it had been summoned. After the recitation of the Nicene creed, Cyril’s second letter to Nestorius was read, and the bishops severally expressed their high approval of it, as being conformable to the Nicene faith. The answer returned by Nestorius was then read; whereupon many of the bishops spoke in condemnation of it, and the whole assembly joined in uttering anathemas against the writer and his doctrine. Other documents followed; among them was Cyril’s third letter to Nestorius—that containing the anathemas— which was received without any remark. By way of proof that Nestorius still adhered to his errors, reports were made as to language which he had used in conversation since coming to Ephesus: as that he had asked how he could give the name of God to a child two or three months old—a question which was understood as a denial of the Saviour’s Godhead. A collection of extracts from earlier theologians was produced, in evidence of the true doctrine on the disputed points; and after it a number of passages from the writings of Nestorius were read amidst general disapprobation—the fathers stopping their ears at the occurrence of words which they considered blasphemous. A sentence of deposition against Nestorius was drawn up in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ whom he hath blasphemed; it was signed by a hundred and ninety-eight bishops, and, in token of the feeling which animated them, it was addressed to the patriarch as “a new Judas”. Cyril afterwards attempted to excuse the indecency and the glaring unfairness of these hasty proceedings by such pretences as that John of Antioch was not in earnest, that his delay was intentional, and that he was determined not to condemn one who had been promoted from among his own clergy. Perhaps the boldest of all the pleas was, that two Syrian metropolitans, who reached Ephesus on the day before the session, had answered some complaints of delay by expressing their patriarch’s willingness that the council should be opened without waiting longer for him. This Cyril ventured to interpret as if the bishop of Antioch consented that the great question proposed for the council’s judgment should be decided before his arrival.

Candidian was astonished on the following morning to find what had been done. He tore down the placard in which the deposition of Nestorius was announced; he issued an edict declaring the proceedings of the council to be null and void; he sent their placard to the emperor, with a letter strongly reflecting on the irregularities of Cyril and his associates. Nestorius also wrote to Theodosius, begging that an impartial synod might be assembled for the examination of his case; that each metropolitan should bring with him only two bishops— a regulation which, from the arrangement of the Egyptian patriarchate, would have left Cyril almost unsupported ;g and that not only monks and clergy, but all such bishops as were not so summoned, should be kept at a distance from the place of meeting.

On the 27th of June, John of Antioch, with fourteen oriental bishops, reached Ephesus. As they approached the city, a deputation from the council met them, and reported the transactions which had taken place. The patriarch was filled with astonishment and indignation. Immediately on reaching his lodgings, he held a council of the bishops who had accompanied him, with twenty-nine others who joined them. Candidian appeared, gave his account of the late session, and withdrew. The bishops then proceeded to consider Cyril’s conduct, and the anathemas which he had published; they pronounced him guilty of turbulence, and of reviving the Arian, Apollinarian, and Eunomian heresies; they sentenced him and Memnon to deposition, and declared the rest of the two hundred to be separated from their communion until they should join in condemning the anathemas. The deputies of Cyril’s party endeavoured to communicate with John, but were insulted, beaten, and repulsed by the soldiers of his guard. On receiving the report of this, and apparently before the decree of the orientals had reached them, Cyril and his synod declared John to be excommunicate until he should give an explanation of his behaviour. The orientals attempted to carry out their condemnation of Memnon by consecrating a bishop in his stead; but they were unable to gain entrance into a church for the purpose, and were beaten by a rabble of his adherents.

Reports of the proceedings at Ephesus got into circulation, and produced in many quarters an impression unfavourable to Cyril. Isidore of Pelusium, with his usual frankness, wrote to beg that he would act with fairness and deliberation, telling him that he was charged with seeking to disguise his private enmity against Nestorius under the name of a zeal for Christ, and that parallels were drawn between his conduct and that of his uncle Theophilus

The emperor, on receiving Candidian’s letter, wrote to the bishops who had condemned Nestorius, blaming them for having proceeded irregularly and on motives of personal malice, and forbidding them to leave Ephesus until the affair should be rightly settled. A reply was drawn up, in which they excused themselves for having acted without the presence of the Orientals, and begged that Candidian might be recalled as having shown partiality to their opponents, and that five of their number might be allowed to wait on the emperor. The acts of the council, revised by Cyril (perhaps not without some unfairness), were annexed to this letter. But Candidian prevented the papers from reaching the court, and the ways were so closely watched that the council, in order to communicate with Constantinople, was obliged to intrust a letter to a beggar, who carried it in a hollow staffs. On the receipt of this missive a great agitation arose among Cyril’s partisans. The monasteries of the capital poured forth their inmates, among whom the most conspicuous was Dalmatius, an abbot who for eight-and-forty years had been shut up within the walls of his retreat, refusing to leave it even when entreated by the emperor to take part in solemn processions on occasion of earthquakes. This recluse was now warned by a heavenly voice to go forth, and proceeded to the palace at the head of an immense multitude, which filled the air with the chant of psalms. The abbots were admitted into the emperor’s presence. Dalmatius showed the letter from Ephesus; he set forth the grievances of the orthodox party, and asked whether it were better to adhere to a single impious man or to six thousand bishops, dispersed throughout the world, but represented by their metropolitans and brethren at Ephesus. Theodosius was moved, and said that the council had only to send some of its members to state its case. Dalmatius in answer explained the constraint in which the bishops were held, and obtained from the emperor an order that some deputies should be sent to the court. The crowd, which had been waiting in anxious expectation, received the abbots with enthusiasm as they left the palace. Monks carrying lighted tapers, and chanting the 150th Psalm, escorted them to a church, where Dalmatius ascended the pulpit, read the Ephesian letter, and gave a report of the interview with the emperor; after which the whole multitude joined in shouting anathemas against Nestorius.

Some bishops of Cyril’s party were now allowed to go to Constantinople, where their representations and solicitations, seconded by heavy bribes, were so effective that the most influential persons about the court were gained to the Alexandrian interest.

The council, in the meantime, held its second session on the 10th of July, when the envoys from Rome appeared, and were received with marks of honour. At the third session, these envoys expressed their approbation of what had been done, and signed the deposition of Nestorius. The hostile parties remained at Ephesus, threatening and excommunicating each other, with equal pride, according to the expression of an ancient historian, and with a deplorable want of temper and decency on both sides. The emperor—supposing (it is said) that the depositions of Nestorius, and of his enemies, Cyril and Memnon, were all determined by the whole council—confirmed the sentences; John, count of the Sacred Largesses, who superseded Candidian as commissioner put the three bishops under arrest; and in August, consequence of Cyril’s removal, Juvenal, bishop of Jerusalem, became president of the council. It was in vain that the commissioner attempted to mediate between the parties; he reported their mutual exasperation to his master, but laid the greater share of blame on the Cyrillians. The extreme heat of the summer, and the confinement within the walls of Ephesus, affected the health of many of the bishops, as well as of their attendants, and a considerable number of deaths took place; while many, who had not made provision for so long an absence from their homes, were reduced to distress for the means of subsistence.

Dalmatius was again employed to represent the case of his friends to the emperor, and at length, at the request of both parties, a conference of eight bishops from each of the rival councils was held at Chalcedon, in the presence of Theodosius. The court was now against Nestorius,—partly influenced by Cyril’s money, partly by Pulcheria, whom Nestorius had offended, partly by dread of the monks and of the populace. Before the arrival of the bishops at Chalcedon, the emperor issued an order that the patriarch, agreeably to a request which he had formerly made, should retire to a monastery near Antioch of which he had been an inmate before his elevation. Nestorius, in acknowledging the receipt of this order, professed himself willing to suffer for the truth, but expressed a wish that an imperial mandate should be issued for a general condemnation of the Egyptian anathemas.

The deputies at Chalcedon had five audiences of the emperor. The party of Cyril refused to enter into any argument, and insisted on the condemnation of Nestorius, while their opponents were equally bent on that of Cyril’s anathemas; and, as it became evident that no reconciliation could be expected, Theodosius resolved to put an end to the council. The letter in which he announced his determination appears to show that he was rather overpowered by the influence of Cyril than convinced of the justice of his cause; he declares that he cannot condemn the Orientals, since no one had argued against them, and they had not been convicted of any error before him. By the same letter it was ordered that Cyril and Memnon should retain their sees; and in the month of September, Maximian, a monk of recluse and unambitious character, was consecrated as patriarch of Constantinople, in the room of Nestorius.

The council of Ephesus is received as the third general council, and its doctrine respecting the Saviour’s person is a part of the catholic faith. But it would be vain to defend the proceedings of those by whom the true doctrine was there asserted; and there remains a question whether Nestorius was really guilty of holding the opinions for which it condemned him. Socrates, whose prejudices, were all against Nestorius, acquits him of any worse error than the use of improper language, into which the historian supposes him to have been led by a conceit of his own eloquence, and by a disregard of the writings of earlier divines. The great body of the Orientals who supported him at Ephesus are unimpeached in their character for orthodoxy. Perhaps, therefore, Nestorius, in using the words which gave colour to the charge of heresy, may in truth have meant only to guard against opposite errors which might have been inferred from the Alexandrian language, and which shortly after were actually put forth by Eutyches; and the most startling of his expressions may rather have been exaggerations, into which he was driven by irritation, than serious denials of the truths which they seemed to contradict. He steadily disavowed the more odious opinions which were imputed to him; he repeatedly expressed his willingness to admit the term Theotokos, provided that it were guarded against obvious abuses The controversy more than once appeared to be in such a position that it might have been ended by a word of explanation : but an unwillingness on both sides to concede, and personal animosities, unhappily prolonged it.

The breaking up of the council left the parties greatly exasperated against each other. The Orientals, on their way homewards, held a synod at Tarsus, and after reaching Antioch they held a second. At these meetings they renewed the deposition of Cyril, and extended the sentence to the bishops who had appeared against them at Chalcedon, and had consecrated Maximian for Constantinople; while they declared that they would never consent to the deposition of Nestorius, that they were resolved to adhere to the Nicene faith, and resist the Egyptian anathemas. Theodoret, Andrew of Samosata, and others, wrote against Cyril, and kept up a correspondence with the friends of Nestorius at Constantinople. Many bishops were deprived, and the church was in a miserable state of distraction. Theodosius was anxious for peace, and after a time, by advice of Maximian, proposed that the bishops of Alexandria and Antioch should meet at Nicomedia, to confer on the means of restoring it. Count Aristolaus, to whom the letters were intrusted, was charged to labour for a reconciliation of the parties; and the emperor wrote to beg the prayers of Symeon the stylite and the exertions of Acacius of Berrhoea in furtherance of his pacific intentions.

John of Antioch declined the conference on the ground of ill health, and also because he had been informed that there was a plot to waylay him. He consulted, however, with the bishops of his party, and it was agreed that, putting aside the personal question as to Nestorius, they would communicate with Cyril, on condition of his condemning his own anathemas and acknowledging the Nicene creed as a sufficient rule of faith. Cyril was urged from many quarters to accept these terms. He replied that he had written nothing but what was conformable to the catholic faith; that to condemn his own writings would be to deprive himself of the means of combating Nestorianism in future, but that he would give explanations of his former words, if the Orientals would accept the acts of the late council, the deposition of Nestorius, and the ordination of Maximian; that he acknowledged the sufficiency of the Nicene creed, but not in such a way as should exclude proper interpretations of it in points where it might be misrepresented by heretics; and in a letter to Acacius he stated his opinions in such a form that Theodoret declared him to be orthodox, and to have abandoned his former errors. The bishop of Antioch was disposed to an accommodation, and sent Paul, bishop of Emesa, to Alexandria, with instructions to promote it. The mission was successful. Cyril subscribed a creed which was substantially the same with one drawn up by Theodoret at Dec. 432. Ephesus; the envoy preached thrice at Alexandria with great applause, enlarging on the term Theotokos; and John agreed to sign the condemnation of Nestorius, and to approve the ordination of Maximian. On these terms Alexandria and Antioch were reconciled in April 433.

In the course of these transactions Cyril expended enormous sums in bribes (or benedictions, as they were styled), for the purpose of maintaining his interest at court. A letter from his archdeacon Epiphanius to Maximian of Constantinople is extant, in which it is stated that the Alexandrians groaned under the heavy imposts to which they had been subjected in order to provide the means of this corruption, and that nevertheless, a debt of 1900 pounds of gold had been contracted in the name of the church.

The accommodation was not satisfactory to the adherents of either side. Isidore of Pelusium and other friends of Cyril expressed surprise that he had agreed to admit two natures in the Saviour. He replied that, while in one sense he acknowledged two natures, in another sense he allowed only one; that the two natures are separate in conception, although united in the one person of Christ, and that their predicates are properly distinct—a statement which Nestorius himself would probably not have declined, and might in fairness have been invited to accept. On the other hand, Theodoret remonstrated with John against making peace on any terms but such as should secure the restoration of the deposed bishops and include all who had been in the same interest. That Cyril, after having proved himself orthodox by his late explanations, should require consent to the condemnation of Nestorius, was, he said, much the same as if a convert from Arianism were to insist on anathematizing those who had always been sound as to the doctrine of the Son’s consubstantiality with the Father; he was still for a condemnation of Cyril’s anathemas, and declared that he would rather suffer both his hands to be cut off than subscribe the condemnation of Nestorius. Others, among whom was Theodoret’s metropolitan, Alexander, bishop of Hierapolis, an aged and venerable man, still refused to admit the orthodoxy of Cyril. Under the pretence that Alexander had forfeited or abdicated his rights as metropolitan, John of Antioch took it upon himself to ordain some bishops for the Euphratensian province; and the proceeding called forth a loud remonstrance, both as being an invasion of jurisdiction, and on account of the personal character of the new bishops. Nine provinces of the Antiochene patriarchate renounced communion with John, who at length called in the aid of the secular power to eject such bishops as refused to accede to his agreement with Cyril.

Theodoret was prepared to withdraw into a monastery; but the urgent entreaties of his flock prevailed on him to seek an interview with John, and he agreed to retain his see on condition of being excused from condemning Nestorius or his opinions. Alexander, however, continued to resist all importunities; he declared that if all the dead were to rise and testify in favour of the Egyptian doctrines, he must yet follow the light of his own conscience, and reject them. It was in vain that Theodoret endeavoured either to mitigate the sternness of his resolution or to prevail with John that the law might not be enforced against a man so greatly revered; the aged bishop was ejected from Hierapolis, and was banished to the mines of Famothim, in Egypt, while his clergy and people displayed their grief at his removal by closing for a time all the churches of the diocese. Other recusant bishops were driven from their sees by military force, and by such means a general conformity was established throughout the east in the year 435 .

The original author of these commotions was, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Celestine with the emperor, allowed to remain nearly four years in his retirement at Antioch, where he was treated with great respect and enjoyed the correspondence of his friends. On the death of Maximian, in 434, the partisans of Nestorius demanded that he should be reinstated in the bishopric of Constantinople; and so serious was the danger of an outbreak that the emperor hastened to fill up the vacancy by nominating Proclus, who was installed while the late bishop was yet unburied. The demonstration at Constantinople may probably have served to bespeak attention to a representation which John of Antioch made in the following year, that Nestorius persisted in his blasphemies and was perverting many from the faith; whereupon an edict was issued, commanding that all the heresiarch’s books should be burnt, that his followers should be called Simonians, “even as the Arians were styled Porphyrians by a law of Constantine of blessed memory”, and that their meetings should be suppressed. His property was seized, and he was sentenced to be banished to Petra for life; but (apparently before this sentence had been executed) the place of his exile was changed to the Great Oasis. There he employed himself in composing a history of his troubles; but after a time he was carried off by the Blemmyes, a wild tribe of marauders who devastated the Oasis. The old man was dismissed by his captors as useless, and surrendered himself to an imperial officer in Egypt, who inhumanly caused him to be hurried from place to place until he sank under the treatment. A writer quoted by Evagrius relates that his tongue was eaten up by worms, and that so he “departed to everlasting torment”, while other authors of kindred spirit are not content with less than a living putrefaction of the heresiarch’s whole body.

Fresh discords broke out in the east on the subject of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Diodore of Tarsus. The memory of these teachers had some years before been attacked by Rabula, bishop of Edessa, who, after having acted with the Orientals at Ephesus, Easter, made himself conspicuous by the vehemence with which he espoused the opposite side. Now that Nestorianism was formally suppressed, Cyril resolved to make an attempt against the authority of Diodore and Theodore, whose writings were diligently read by the Nestorians since those of their nominal leader had been forbidden. The attempt was eagerly urged on by a strong monastic party; and Rabula with other bishops took part in it. Proclus of Constantinople extracted some propositions from the works of Theodore, and, without naming the source, proposed that they should be generally condemned; but the authorship was betrayed by some over-zealous agents, and the name of Theodore, which was generally revered throughout the east, excited a commotion. A synod of bishops, held at Antioch, while they approved of Proclus’ doctrine, appealed to Theodosius against a condemnation of one who had done important, services to the church; they said that the language quoted from Theodore had been used by him in controversy with Arians and Eunomians, and ought to be interpreted with a fair consideration of its object; and the emperor, in consequence of this appeal, recommended that nothing should be done against the memory of men who had deserved well of the church and had died in its communion. Proclus withdrew from the affair, declaring that he had not intended any censure against the person of Theodore; and Cyril himself at length found it expedient to desist from the prosecution of his attempt, and to profess himself satisfied with the condemnation of Theodore's errors which was implied in the sentence against Nestorius. He afterwards wrote against Theodore, and was answered by Theodoret.

Although suppressed within the empire, Nestorianism found a refuge beyond its bounds. At Edessa there was a flourishing school of clergy for the Persian church. Its head, Ibas, was favourable to Nestorius, and translated some works of Diodore and Theodore into Syriac. Rabula, in 435, broke up the institution; but Ibas, on succeeding him as bishop, re-established it, a and it continued to flourish until the reign of Zeno, by whom it was finally suppressed in 485. From this seminary Nestorianism was propagated in Persia and India; and the doctrine continued to exercise a powerful influence on the Christianity of the east

 

CHAPTER IV.

EUTYCHIANISM.—THE COUNCIL OF CHALCEDON.— ADVANCE OF THE ROMAN SEE.

 

 

When Dalmatius went to the palace of Constantinople for the purpose of representing the case of Cyril and the Ephesian council, one of the most remarkable persons among the multitude which accompanied him was Eutyches, abbot of a large monastery near the city. Like Dalmatius, he had at that time remained nearly fifty years within the walls of his retreat, and had resolved never to leave them; but he considered the peril of the faith a sufficient ground for breaking through his determination. Eutyches was generally revered for sanctity, and was highly regarded by Cyril on account of his zeal against Nestorianism : but he appears to have been a person of narrow understanding and of obstinate temper. He was himself soon to give name to a heresy which produced a longer controversy, more complicated dissensions, and a more disastrous schism than the errors which he so warmly opposed.

Notwithstanding the formal reconciliation which had been established, a difference of opinion, and mutual suspicions, continued to exist between the Egyptian and the Syrian schools. The Syrians considered the Egyptians to be tainted with Apollinarianism, and were in their turn regarded by them as Nestorians. The monks in general were violent against Nestorianism, which they were fond of imputing to their ecclesiastical superiors, and to all others who neglected to court their favour. Imperfectly understanding the system to which they professed to adhere, they exaggerated the Alexandrian forms of expression, and, under pretence of reverence for divine mysteries, made use of words which seemed to annihilate the Saviour’s humanity. They spoke of it as absorbed in his Godhead, like a drop of honey in the ocean”; some of them were grossly Apollinarian in their language. Theodoret, perceiving that this tendency, even if it did not introduce positive heresy, must throw back Theology into the undefined state from which the writers and the councils of more than two centuries had been labouring to deliver it, wrote in 447 a dialogue in three books, entitled Eranistes (The Man of Scraps)—so called because he considered the opinions which he combated to be no new invention, but, like a beggar’s coat, a patchwork of fragments collected from various quarters. The doctrines which he maintained in this work as to the unchangeableness, distinctness, and impassibility of the Redeemer’s Godhead were made by his enemies the foundation for charging him with holding two Sons; and Theodoret, with Ibas of Edessa, and Irenaeus of Tyre, was marked out by the monastic party for special vengeance.

Dioscorus, who in 444 succeeded Cyril as bishop of Alexandria, is said to have borne a high character before his elevation, but afterwards showed himself violent, tyrannical, rapacious, and scandalously immoral. He had with him the favour of the court, and especially that of Chrysaphius, the eunuch who held sway over the feeble Theodosius; and he kept up an extensive correspondence with those monks in Syria and elsewhere who were ill affected towards their bishops. Dioscorus took offence at Theodoret for having signed a synodical letter of Proclus,—an act which, according to the Alexandrian bishop, implied an acknowledgment of the precedence of Constantinople, or even of its jurisdiction over the Syrian patriarchate; he charged him with Nestorian heresy, and, although Theodoret disavowed and condemned the errors imputed to him, he uttered an anathema against him. The secular power was set in motion against the bishop of Cyrus; in 447 or 448 an imperial edict was issued, which accused him of exciting disturbances by holding frequent meetings, and ordered him to confine himself to his diocese. About the same time Ibas was harassed with accusations by the monastic party, but succeeded in making his peace. The Orientals attempted to vindicate their orthodoxy by sending a deputation to court, of which the result is not recorded.

A rumour arose that Eutyches, in the eagerness of his opposition to Nestorianism, had vented unsound opinions on the doctrine of the Incarnation. Domnus, bishop of Antioch, made a representation on the subject to Flavian of Constantinople, charging Eutyches with Apollinarianism and with confounding the Saviour’s natures; but as the Syrian accusers lay under a suspicion of Nestorianism, the charge met with little or no attention. In 448, however, at a meeting of the local synod of Constantinople, which was attended by about thirty bishops, Eusebius of Dorylaeum (the same who had been the first to oppose Nestorius) denounced Eutyches as a heretic, stating that he had in vain endeavoured by private conference to convince him of his errors, and desiring that an inquiry should be made into the abbot's opinions.

Flavian, the successor of Proclus, knowing the powerful interests by which Eutyches was likely to be supported,1 and dreading a general disturbance of the church, endeavoured to dissuade Eusebius from proceeding, but was obliged reluctantly to grant the investigation. At the first summons Eutyches refused to appear before the council, alleging his resolution not to quit his monastery; but he was told that this was no reasonable excuse, and was reminded of the part which he had taken in the Nestorian controversy. After repeated citations he made his appearance, attended by a large body of monks, and soldiers, whose protection he professed to think necessary for his safety, and accompanied by the patrician Florentius, who, by a remarkable innovation, was commissioned to assist at the trial on the ground that it was a question of faith, whereas in all previous controversies the imperial commissioners had been restricted to the regulation of external matters. On being questioned, Eutyches professed that he held the Nicene faith, and cited a prohibition which the council of Ephesus had uttered against the imposition of any other formulary. He said that there were two natures in Christ before his incarnation; he admitted, although with hesitation, the phrase that Christ is “consubstantial with us according to his flesh”, as well as with the Father according to his Godhead. But his answers were equivocal and unsatisfactory. He stated that he held only “one incarnate nature of God the Word”—a phrase for which he referred to the authority of Athanasius and of Cyril. He professed an unwillingness to define, a reverence for Scripture, and a wish not to go beyond it; and he refused to anathematize the errors of which he was suspected, although he professed himself willing to accept in part the language opposed to them. The synod found his statements insufficient, and pronounced him guilty of renewing the errors of Valentinus and Apollinarius; he was sentenced to deprivation of his abbacy and to deposition from the priesthood; and he and all who should adhere to him were declared excommunicate. It would seem that there was some confusion in the proceedings of this council. Eutyches afterwards complained of it as unfair, and asserted that he had appealed from it to the judgment of Rome, Alexandria, and Jerusalem; but his appeal was not made in the form or at the time which were necessary to give it technical validity.

Eutyches busied himself in writing to bishops and others in all directions. By way of accounting for his refusal to acknowledge the two natures, he alleged that he was apprehensive of contravening the council of Ephesus by exceeding the definitions of the Nicene creed. He loudly complained of injustice, and urged that a general council should be summoned. His monks adhered to him in defiance of the sentence, and were put under a sort of interdict by Flavian for their contumacy; while Dioscorus, contrary to all canonical order, admitted Eutyches to communion, and acknowledged him both as a priest and as an abbot. But the condemnation which had been pronounced was received with general approval. Leo, bishop of Rome, a man of great ability and energy, who was bent on asserting all the real or imaginable privileges of his see, on receiving representations of the case from Theodosius and Eutyches, wrote to Flavian, professing surprise that he had not before reported it; but on receiving the patriarch explanation and the acts of the late synod, he expressed his satisfaction with the decision. Theodosius attempted to bring about a reconciliation between Flavian and Eutyches, but his endeavours were ineffectual. The patriarch, in answer to a question as to his own faith, admitted the expression, “one nature of the incarnate Word”, on the ground that the person of Christ is one, and he anathematized Nestorius; but he would not allow the sufficiency of the Nicene creed to shelter Eutyches in the opinions which had been condemned. The opponents of Eutyches deprecated the assembling of a general council, as being unnecessary in so clear a case, and as likely to throw the whole church into confusion. The dominant eunuch Chrysaphius, however, favoured the proposal, and citations were issued, by which the chief bishop of each eastern diocese was required to take with him ten metropolitans and ten other bishops. The council was packed with gross unfairness. An imperial letter, after mentioning in a tone of disapproval the proceedings of Flavian against Eutyches, declared that the assembly had been summoned in order to root out the remains of Nestorianism—as if the later heresy were not in question. The bishops who had taken part in the judgment on Eutyches, and the Orientals who had been suspected of Nestorianism, were not to be allowed any voice; while Barsumas, a Syrian abbot, was to have a seat and the privileges of a bishop, as representing the malcontent monastic party. Theodoret was expressly forbidden to attend the council, unless his presence should be unanimously desired by its members. Two lay officers, the counts Elpidius and Eulogius, were commissioned to keep order, and to imprison any persons who might be refractory.

The council met in the same church at Ephesus in Aug. 8, which the third general council had sat eighteen years before. A hundred and twenty-six bishops were present at the opening. Dioscorus had with him a large train of monks and parabolani, and Barsumas appeared at the head of a thousand rabid monks, prepared to coerce the assembly by their violence. Leo, after having in vain endeavoured that it might be held in Italy, had excused himself from appearing, on the ground that the Roman bishops were not accustomed to attend councils beyond the seas, and also on account of the political troubles of his country. He deputed three legates as his representatives, and sent by them a document which, under the name of his Tome, or Letter to Flavian, became very famous in the controversy. In this the entireness and yet the distinctness of the two natures united in the Saviour were defined with an ability, a command of Scripture proof, and a copiousness of illustration for which it has been thought necessary to account by fables as to the circumstances in which Leo composed the letter, and by ascribing the final revision of it to the apostle St. Peter.

Dioscorus assumed the presidency of the council, in virtue of an imperial rescript. Next to him was placed the Roman legate, Julius; after whom were the bishops of Jerusalem and of Antioch, the regular order of their precedence being reversed; while Flavian was degraded from the position assigned to his see by the second general council, to the fifth place in the assembly. The proceedings were violent and disorderly from the beginning. Dioscorus turned out all reporters but those of his own party band, although Leo’s letter was received by the council, he contrived to prevent the reading of it. Eutyches presented a petition, giving his account of the previous transactions, and praying, not for his own restoration—for that he supposed to be secured by the Alexandrian acknowledgment of him—but for the punishment of his enemies. Flavian requested that the accuser, Eusebius of Dorylaeum, should be heard, but was rebuked by the commissioner Elpidius for interfering, and was told that the opponents of Eutyches had already had their opportunity of speaking at Constantinople. The acts of the Constantinopolitan synod were read, and whenever any one of its members was reported to have spoken of two natures, there were loud outcries from the monks and the multitude— “Nestorian! Tear him asunder! Burn him alive! As he divides, so let him be divided!”. It was agreed that Eutyches should be acknowledged as orthodox, together with his monks, who in insolent language demanded that Flavian should be punished as he had punished them. The prohibition which the council of Ephesus had passed against adding to the Nicene faith was often appealed to; but with an evident perversion of its meaning, since it had not in reality been intended to exclude any explanation of articles in which the creed might be misrepresented. An anathema against Nestorius was proposed. Dioscorus desired that all who could not make their shouts heard should stretch out their hands in token of assent; and the anathema was pronounced amid cries of “Drive out, burn, tear, cut asunder, massacre—all who hold two natures”. Some of the bishops who had sat in the council of Constantinople quailed before the storm, and retracted the words which they had formerly used.

Dioscorus then demanded whether those who contravened the canons of the council of Ephesus and the Nicene creed did not deserve punishment, and, having received from the bishops an answer of assent, he produced a sentence against Flavian and Eusebius. Flavian protested against being judged by him, and gave into the hands of the Roman legates an appeal to Rome and the west. A number of bishops gathered round Dioscorus, and on their knees implored him to proceed no further; but disregarding their entreaties he exclaimed “Call in the counts!” and the proconsul of Asia entered, attended by soldiers and monks, with swords, clubs, and chains. The bishops in terror attempted to hide themselves in corners of the church or under benches; but they were dragged out, and with threats, abusive language, and blows were compelled to sign the condemnation of Flavian,—or rather a blank sheet, on which the sentence was afterwards to be copied. It is said that Dioscorus and Barsumas struck Flavian on the face, kicked him, and stamped on him; and, although the report of these savage acts may be an exaggeration, it seems to be certain that, in consequence of the treatment which he received in the council, the patriarch of Constantinople died within a few days, on his way to a place of banishment. Eusebius of Dorylaeum was deposed and imprisoned, but found means of escaping to Rome. Theodoret and Ibas, although confined to their own dioceses, were cited, and in their absence were condemned as heretics. Domnus, bishop of Antioch, who had weakly consented to the earlier acts of the council, was at last deposed on the charge of approving a Nestorian sermon, which was said (probably without truth) to have been preached in his presence by Theodoret. He retired into a monastery, and made no attempt to recover his see. One of the Roman legates had died on his way to the council. Of the survivors, it seems probable that the elder, Julius, bishop of Puteoli, was overpowered, and consented to the proceedings of Dioscorus, but the younger, Hilary, then a deacon, and afterwards Leo’s successor, met them with a spirited and resolute opposition, which so provoked the Eutychian party that he was obliged to abscond from Ephesus, and to travel by unfrequented ways to Rome.

Theodosius, by edicts which bore the name of the western emperor as well as his own, confirmed the decisions of the council, taxing the deposed bishops with Nestorianism, and ordering that their writings should be burnt, and that no one should give shelter to them or to their followers. In the face of these edicts, Leo with a Roman synod declared the proceedings at Ephesus invalid. The assembly, he said, was not a council, but a meeting of robbers—a name which was generally adopted and has continued to be used in designating it; and he applied, although in vain, to Theodosius for a fresh council, to be held in Italy. Early in the following year, a visit which Valentinian, with his wife and mother, paid to Rome—probably at the festival of St. Peter's Chair—afforded the pope another opportunity of urging his cause. As the imperial party entered the church of the apostle, Leo appeared at the head of a large company of bishops, and, prostrating himself on the floor, represented with tears the miserable distractions of the oriental church, where Egypt, Thrace, and Palestine were arrayed against Syria, Pontus, and Asia; he implored Valentinian and the princesses to intercede with the eastern emperor that the sentences against Flavian and others might be annulled, and that a new general council might be assembled in Italy. To this prayer they assented, and they fulfilled their promise by writing to Theodosius and Pulcheria. But Theodosius was persuaded to reply that he had not innovated on the faith; that the proceedings of the late synod had been fair; that it had produced excellent effects; and that the east was now united in the profession of the true doctrine.

The sudden death of Theodosius, which took place a few months later, was followed by important changes in ecclesiastical matters. Pulcheria had always been opposed to the Eutychian party, and had kept up a correspondence with Leo. The minister Chrysaphius was put to death. Marcian united with his empress in the wish to favour orthodoxy, and expressed his willingness to summon a general council. Leo desired that the assembly might be held in Italy, and that it might not discuss matters of faith—since these had been already sufficiently settled—but might limit itself to a consideration of the questions as to the bishops who had been condemned. In this the pope evidently aimed at the advancement of the Roman authority by obtaining an acknowledgment of his letter to Flavian as the standard of orthodoxy on the Incarnation. But Marcian also had an object in appointing a place of meeting within his own dominions; and to this determination he steadily adhered.

Anatolius, an Alexandrian, had been consecrated by Dioscorus for Constantinople, and requested the communion of Rome. As the see had become vacant by the death of Flavian, there was no irregularity in the appointment of his successor; Leo, therefore, expressed a willingness to acknowledge the new patriarch, if he would give a satisfactory statement of his faith, and would anathematize all who taught amiss on the subject of the Incarnation. The application of Anatolius was recommended by a letter from Marcian; and on signing the epistle to Flavian, he was admitted by Leo to communion.

The enemies of Theodoret had succeeded by means of bribery in procuring an imperial edict which ordered that his books should be burnt, and that no one should read them or give him shelter. He remained in retirement in a monastery at Apamea, from which he wrote to Leo, asking whether he ought to submit to the judgment of the Ephesian council, and begging for an acknowledgment of his orthodoxy, in proof of which he appealed to his numerous writings and to his labours for the faith. His case was examined by a council at Rome, and Leo granted him communion. In the beginning of 451, Marcian allowed the banished bishops to return from their exile; but he reserved the question of their restoration to their sees for the consideration of the general council, which was appointed to meet at Nicaea on the 1st of September.

Although Leo had been unable to contrive that the council should assemble in Italy, or to limit the subject of its discussions, he resolved to turn it to the best advantage. He had already sent a bishop and a presbyter into the east, on account of the negotiations with Anatolius and other bishops who desired his communion; and to these envoys he now added another of each order.

His instructions to the legates were in a very lofty style : they were to assume the presidency of the council; nothing was to be transacted except in their presence; they were not to admit Dioscorus to appear as a judge, but only as an accused person. These orders the legates endeavoured to carry out; but, although much was allowed to them, they were not permitted to exercise that uncontrolled supremacy which their master intended. The opening of the council was delayed for some weeks, and the place of meeting was altered to Chalcedon, in order that it might be held under the eye of the emperor, who had promised to be present if it were in his power, but was prevented by public business from leaving Constantinople. The number of bishops is traditionally stated at six hundred and thirty; the council itself reckons five hundred and twenty. All were from the east, with the exception of Leo’s envoys, and of two African bishops, who, however, do not appear to have been commissioned as representatives of their brethren. The Roman legates and Anatolius of Constantinople sat as presidents of the clergy; but the real direction of the council was in the hands of the emperor’s commissioners—nineteen civil officers, who had filled the highest dignities in the state.

The first session was held on the 8th of October, in the church of St. Euphemia, a martyr under Diocletian, which was built on a gentle eminence without the walls of Chalcedon. Evagrius describes with enthusiasm the beauties of the situation and prospect, and adds curious statements as to miracles customarily performed at the church by the blood and other relics of the patroness.

As soon as the members of the council had taken their places, the Roman legates rose, and, speaking in Latin, demanded that Dioscorus should not be allowed to sit as a judge; otherwise, they said, their instructions would oblige them to withdraw. The commissioners told them that, if they were to be judges, they must not make themselves parties; but, after some discussion, Dioscorus was desired to take a seat in the midst of the assembly, as a person under accusation. Eusebius of Dorylaeum then brought forward a petition charging Dioscorus with wrongs against himself, against the late bishop of Constantinople, and against the catholic faith—a document which had been presented to the emperor, and by him had been referred to the council. By desire of both Eusebius and Dioscorus, the acts of the Latrocinium (which included those of the Constantinopolitan synod against Eutyches) were produced, and the reading of them was begun. On the occurrence of Theodoret’s name in the acts, the commissioners ordered that he should be called in. Immediately a terrible uproar arose. The Egyptian party protested that to admit him, “the master of Nestorius” would be against the faith and the canons—that it would be a betrayal of Christ, and a driving out of St. Cyril. “Away with the Jew!”, they shouted, “Away with the blasphemer, the Nestorian!”, while their opponents, with equal zeal, exclaimed that Dioscorus should rather be ejected with his train of Manicheans and murderers; so that the commissioners felt it necessary to remind the bishops of the decency due to their own character. Theodoret was at length allowed to take his seat—not, however, as a judge but as a plaintiff; and the reading of the Ephesian acts was resumed. While it was proceeding, Juvenal of Jerusalem, with the bishops of Palestine, left the position which they had taken up near the Egyptians, and removed to the opposite side of the church. Other bishops, who at Ephesus had acted with Dioscorus, followed, and were hailed by the Orientals with shouts of “Welcome, orthodox!”. Even four of the Alexandrian primate’s suffragans were among the deserters, and at last he was left with only thirteen Egyptian bishops to support him. But Dioscorus continued to bear himself with unabated pride and with undaunted resolution. He demanded that his case should not be separated from that of the others who had shared in his proceedings; he often, with bitter sarcasm, denounced the tergiversation of his former allies; he criticized the evidence with watchful acuteness; he told the members of the council that, in condemning him, they would condemn Athanasius, Gregory of Nazianzum, Cyril, and all the orthodox fathers. He said that he acknowledged Christ to be “of two natures”, but, on being pressed, he declined to use the form “in two natures”, thus refusing to own that the distinction of natures had subsisted after the incarnation. He protested that he cared for nothing but God and his own soul.

Throughout the day there were continual outbursts of tumult, as passages occurred in the acts which excited the feelings of the hostile parties. Mutual anathemas were shouted forth against the asserters and the deniers of the two natures; the description of the scene might recall to our minds the tempests of modern republican assemblies rather than the ideal which we might have naturally formed of the church’s greatest general council.

It was late before the reading of the first day’s proceedings at Ephesus was finished. The commissioners then said it was enough for one day to have cleared the memory of Flavian and Eusebius; that the emperor was resolved to adhere to the faith of Nicaea and Constantinople; that if he agreed in their view of the matter, the leaders in the proceedings at Ephesus ought to be deposed; but they left the decision to the consideration of the bishops.

Dioscorus was committed to a guard, probably from an apprehension that he might secretly leave Chalcedon. At the third session of the council he was cited, but refused to appear, on the plea that he was under restraint; and when informed that he was at liberty to attend the council, he renewed his refusal on other grounds—especially that the imperial commissioners were not then present in the assembly. Additional charges were preferred against him—chiefly affecting his administration of his office, and his private morals, which were so notoriously bad as even to afford themes for the ballad-singers of Alexandria; and, after he had been thrice summoned without appearing, the legates pronounced their sentence,—that, because of the misdemeanours proved against him (among which they included some which do not appear to have been mentioned in the previous proceedings)—for his behaviour at Ephesus, for having dared to excommunicate “the most holy and most blessed archbishop of the great Rome, Leo”, and for having disregarded the citations of the council, they, in the name of the Roman bishop and of St. Peter, with the council, declared him to be deprived of all sacerdotal office and dignity. Anatolius and other bishops gave their judgment in succession, and the condemnation was signed by about three hundred members of the council. Some of these specified particular charges as the grounds of their assent; many rested it on the contempt with which Dioscorus had treated the citation (and this was the main reason assigned in the notification of the sentence to himself); but the majority were content with professing to be guided by the opinion of the council, and very few made any reference to imputations on the faith of the accused. The condemnation was ratified by the emperor, and Dioscorus was banished to Gangra, in Paphlagonia, where he died in 454.

Leo had sent to the council a copy of his letter to Flavian, and it had also been recommended to the attention of the members by Marcian; but, while the pope wished it to be received without question, as a standard of doctrine on the Incarnation, the emperor regarded it as a document subject to examination and discussion, and was resolved that the faith should be settled by the authority of the council, not by the bishop of Rome. His commissioners, therefore, proposed at the second session that a definition as to the faith should be set forth. Cecropius of Sebastople and others demurred; the faith, they said, had already been secured by the creeds of Nicaea and Constantinople, and by the letter to Flavian. These documents, and Cyril’s second letter to Nestorius, were then generally signed; but the imperial commissioners, resolved on carrying out their instructions, desired the bishops to adjourn for five days, and in the meantime to confer on the subject of a decree as to faith.

At the fourth session (the deposition of Dioscorus having taken place at the third) the commissioners again urged the proposal. The Roman legates repeated the objection which had been already made—that the letter to Flavian and the creeds were sufficient. The members of the council were then individually asked whether the letter were agreeable to the earlier documents, and replied that it was so. The thirteen Egyptian bishops who had adhered to Dioscorus entreated that they might not be required to subscribe the letter while the see of Alexandria was vacant; such, they said, was their subjection to their patriarch, that, if they should take it upon themselves to sign, their lives would not be safe on their return to Egypt. This prayer was seconded by the intercession of the commissioners, and, after a warm discussion, the Egyptians were allowed to remain at Constantinople until a new patriarch should be appointed to Alexandria. At this meeting the bishops unanimously requested that Juvenal of Jerusalem and the other metropolitans who had shared in the proceedings of the Latrocinium should be pardoned, on the ground that they had acted under constraint. The request was referred to the emperor, and, with his assent, the desired forgiveness was granted.

At the fifth session, a decree as to faith was produced, and was received with various expressions of feeling. But in the most critical point, instead of stating that Christ is “in two natures”, it used the expression “of two natures”. As Dioscorus had deposed Flavian for the doctrine conveyed in the former phrase, and had himself declared his willingness to agree to the other, the definition (which had probably been framed in accordance with the emperor's wish to conciliate the Egyptian and monastic party) was obviously insufficient. The legates said that, unless the words were brought into agreement with Leo’s letter, they would return to Rome, and refer the matter to a western council. On this there were loud outcries against Nestorianism. The great body of the bishops exclaimed that the decree was dictated by the Holy Spirit, and must not be altered. In answer to a remark by a commissioner, that Dioscorus had deposed Flavian for using the words “in two natures”, Anatolius observed that Dioscorus had not been deposed for heresy, but for his excommunication of Leo and for his disobedience to the council’s citations. The emperor was consulted as to the course which should be taken, and suggested that a committee of bishops should confer with Anatolius and the Roman legates. The general feeling of the assembly was still against any further discussion; there were exclamations that those who did not like the definition might “go off to Rome”; but on being reminded by the commissioners that Dioscorus had consented to the words “of two natures”, and asked whether they preferred Dioscorus or Leo, the bishops agreed to reconsider the matter. Thus the decree was at length brought into its present form. It confirms the creeds of Nicaea and Constantinople, and the decisions of the general council of Ephesus; it adopts Leo’s letter to Flavian as a bul­wark alike against Nestorianism and the opposite error; and while recognizing the sufficiency of the existing creeds, it defines, in opposition to the recent heresies, that Christ is “perfect alike in Godhead and in manhood; very God and very man, of a reasonable soul and human flesh; co-essential with the Father as to his God­head, and co-essential with us as to his manhood; like to us in all things except sin one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, only-begotten, to be acknowledged in two natures, without confusion, change, division, or separation; the difference of the natures being in nowise taken away by reason of their union, but rather the properties of each nature being preserved, and concurring into one person and one hypostasis, not as it were divided or separated into two persons, but one and the same Son and only-begotten, God the Word”.

At the next (which was the sixth) session, Marcian and the empress appeared, and were received by the bishops with loud acclamations, mixed with anathemas against Nestorius, Eutyches, and Dioscorus. The emperor made a speech, declaring his sanction of the decree of faith, and the document was generally subscribed.

Theodoret signed the decree as bishop of Cyrus, but had not yet been restored to his see. Although the Roman approval of his orthodoxy had been mentioned in the council, the fathers in the eighth session proceeded to an independent examination of his case. On appearing, he was received with violent outcries from many of the bishops, and was called on to anathematize Nestorius. He attempted to state his faith, declaring that the recovery of his bishopric was nothing to him in comparison of his reputation for orthodoxy. But the bishops would not listen to any explanation; and at length, after many vain attempts to overcome their clamour, he pronounced an anathema on Nestorius, with all who refuse the word Theotokos, or divide the two natures; whereupon he was acknowledged as orthodox and worthy of his see. Ibas was also, not without some difficulty, restored to the bishopric of Edessa. It might have been supposed that Theodoret intended his anathema against the errors which were popularly imputed to Nestorius, without implying that the imputation was just; but, if the notice of Nestorius in one of his latest works be genuine, it would appear that he had changed his opinion as to the heresiarch himself.

The number of the council’s sessions is variously reckoned, from twelve to fifteen or more. Among its acts were two important regulations on the subject of ecclesiastical precedence and jurisdiction.

(1.) Agreeably to the principle of correspondence between the ecclesiastical and the civil division, Palestine had been subject to the bishop of Caesarea, the civil capital, as metropolitan. The see of Jerusalem was but an ordinary bishopric; yet, on account of the sacred associations connected with the place, it had always enjoyed something of a peculiar reverence. This undefined honour had been formerly sanctioned by the seventh Nicene canon, on the ground of custom and ancient tradition; and the importance of the holy city had since been increased by the growing practice of pilgrimage, which drew to it a vast confluence of visitors from all countries to which the Gospel had penetrated. Encouraged by these circumstances, Juvenal conceived the ambitious idea of not only freeing himself from the superiority of Caesarea, but raising his see to the dignity of a patriarchate. His first attempt was made at the general council of Ephesus, where the bishop of Caesarea was absent, while John of Antioch, to whom both Caesarea and Jerusalem were perhaps subject, was obnoxious as being the chief of the rival assembly. Relying on these favourable circumstances, Juvenal went so far as to assert that Antioch ought to be directed and judged by Jerusalem; but his pretensions were checked by Cyril, and were not revived until after the Alexandrian bishop’s death. At the Latrocinium, where he was again favoured by the absence of the bishop of Caesarea, and by the position of the Syrian patriarch Domnus (of whom, as we have seen, he took precedence in the assembly), Juvenal renewed his claims; and he had subsequently obtained rescripts in his favour from the emperor. The question now came before the council for final decision. Maximus of Antioch, although dissatisfied with the change, was disposed to agree to a compromise; and the fathers of Chalcedon assigned to Juvenal the dignity of a patriarch, with jurisdiction over Palestine, while Arabia and the second Phoenicia, which had been included in Juvenal’s claim, were left to the patriarch of Antioch, and the bishop of Caesarea was allowed to retain the title of an honorary metropolitan.

(2.) The twenty-eighth canon related to the see of Constantinople. The eastern emperors had found it their interest to exalt the bishops of their capital, in opposition to the power of metropolitans on the one hand, and of the Roman bishop on the other; and the dignity and influence of the position had been continually increasing. An introduction by the bishop of Constantinople was necessary for such of his brethren as desired to be admitted into the imperial presence. He presided over the “home synod”, a permanent although fluctuating assembly, which was composed of such bishops as had been drawn by their affairs to the residence of the court, and to which the emperors were accustomed to refer appeals in ecclesiastical matters. Although the canon of the second general council, which placed Constantinople next to Rome, did not bestow any jurisdiction, the bishops attempted to exercise patriarchal authority over Thrace, Asia, and Pontus; they claimed the right, not only of ordaining, but even of nominating, the metropolitans and inferior bishops of these dioceses; they even extended their interference into the patriarchate of Antioch, and became the general referees and arbitrators of the eastern church.

The twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon was intended as a compromise of the differences which had arisen from these pretensions. It ordered that the metropolitans only of the three dioceses should be ordained by the patriarchs of Constantinople, and that their ordination should not take place without a certificate of regular and undisputed election by their own suffragans. The canon recognized the privileges bestowed by the second general council on ‘New Rome’; it referred these to the secular eminence of the city, declared that the privileges of the ancient capital itself rested on like grounds, and enacted that Constantinople ought “to be magnified in ecclesiastical matters even like the elder imperial Rome, as being next to it”. The canon was signed by about a hundred and eighty bishops—many of those who supposed themselves to be aggrieved by it standing aloof.

On the following day, which was the last of the council, the Roman legates protested against it, as having been passed in their absence, and through a surprise practised on those who had been present. The charge of surprise was denied by the parties concerned; and the legates were reminded that they had been summoned to the meeting on the preceding day. They threatened to report the matter to their master; to which the commissioners replied by calmly telling them that it had been decided by the synod.

The emperor followed up the council by laws against the Eutychians, forbidding them to hold meetings, to ordain clergy, and to build churches or monasteries, and inflicting various disabilities on them. Leo, on receiving a report of the proceedings, expressed high approval of the decree as to faith, but no less indignation against the twenty-eighth canon. With a bold disregard of history, he denied that the precedence of sees had depended on the importance of the cities in which they were. He asserted that the canon of the council of Constantinople had never been acted on or notified to the Roman see, although (besides other instances to the contrary) his own legates in the first session had supported the complaint of those who cried out against the degradation of Flavian from the second place at the Latrocinium. He pretended that the new canon contradicted the Nicene council by subjecting Alexandria and Antioch to Constantinople; and he declared it to be annulled by the authority of St. Peter. He loudly complained of the ambition of Anatolius, whom he charged with ingratitude for the favour shown by the Roman acknowledgment of him; he suspended intercourse with him, and threatened to excommunicate him. Finding, however, that, although it was the interest of both Marcian and the patriarch to be on friendly terms with Rome, his lofty pretensions had no effect on them, he affected, in 454, to regard some conciliatory words of Anatolius as a retractation of the conduct which had offended him; and the patriarch of Constantinople was readmitted to his correspondence. Although some of the more extravagant writers in the interest of Rome profess to suppose that Marcian abrogated the canon by an imperial law, there is no ground whatever for such a supposition, but it is certain that the canon, from the time of its enactment, was steadily enforced by the eastern court.

The canon in favour of Constantinople agreed with the tendency of the age to centre authority in the great sees by overpowering the independence of the lesser. In the same spirit which led the patriarchs of Constantinople to extend their jurisdiction over the neighbouring provinces, Alexander of Antioch had endeavoured, in the earlier part of the century, to assert a claim to the island of Cyprus, which had until then been “autocephalous” under its metropolitan, the bishop of Constantia or Salamis. He pretended that it had been originally subject to Antioch, but had withdrawn itself in the course of the preceding century, on account of the heresy and schism by which the mother church had been distracted, and which it had been reserved for Alexander himself finally to suppress. The claim, however, failed; the council of Ephesus—perhaps in some degree influenced by enmity against John, who had become the successor of Alexander—pronounced it inconsistent with the canons of Nicaea. But the dignity of the patriarchs generally had been on the increase. In some cases, they assisted bishops to obtain the title of metropolitans, on condition of subordination to themselves; sometimes they commissioned existing metropolitans to act as their vicars—an arrangement by which the metropolitan acquired an increase of power, but paid for it by the forfeiture of his independence.

The growth of the Roman influence during the earlier half of the fifth century was especially remarkable. As in the preceding century, controversies continued to arise in the east. From Chrysostom and Theophilus to Dioscorus and Anatolius, the bishops of the chief eastern sees were divided by enmities, and one of them after another was charged with heresy. In such circumstances they were driven to look towards Rome, not only as the principal church of the wrest, but as representative of all the western churches. Antioch and Alexandria were especially interested in courting its alliance, as a counterpoise to the new importance of Constantinople. The Roman bishops affected to regard such applications as appeals; while those who received favourable answers from Rome were eager to magnify them as authoritative judgments. The dignity of the Roman see rose in the eyes of men, through the exemption of its bishops from that personal share in the disputes, the intrigues, the scandals and calamities of the time which degraded the estimation of the eastern patriarchs; through the circumstance that, instead of themselves engaging in the altercations of councils, they were represented in those assemblies by envoys, who studiously held up the name of Rome as if it were entitled to overawe the whole hierarchy of the church. By the withdrawal of the western emperors to Milan and Ravenna, the bishops, to whom it would seem that the munificence of Constantine had made over the Lateran palace for their habitation, were left as the chief resident personages of Rome; and both the decay of the empire and the personal feebleness of its rulers contributed to the advancement of the ecclesiastical power. Thus favoured by circumstances, the bishops of Rome, with growing pretensions and through various fortunes, pushed onwards to that ascendency which their successors were destined in time to attain.

The Roman bishops had before denied that their precedence originated in the secular greatness of the city, and had professed to trace it to their alleged succession from St. Peter. This theory, in truth, resolves itself into the other, even according to the highest conception of the dignity conferred on St. Peter; since it is evident that the capital of the civilized world was the place in which the first of the apostles might naturally be supposed to fix his see. And, if there were any room for doubt, the question would be decided by the fact that the other churches which traced themselves to him were those of the two cities which came next in importance to Rome; and, further, that in ecclesiastical as well as in civil rank Alexandria took precedence of Antioch, although the foundation of the Egyptian see was referred to the agency of a disciple, whereas the Syrian see was believed to have been founded by the apostle himself. The derivation from St. Peter was, however, advanced as if it excluded the view which it thus really involves; and the claims founded on it became continually higher. For a time it was said that the prerogatives of Rome had been bestowed on it by the fathers, out of reverence for the chief of the apostles. But afterwards it was asserted that they were inherent in the Roman see—a doctrine which was hinted at by Celestine's legates in the council of Ephesus, but was first broadly maintained by Leo.

Innocent went beyond his predecessors in his assumptions. He laboured earnestly to subject independent metropolitans. Carrying out an usurpation which appears to have been begun by Siricius, he assumed jurisdiction over the churches of eastern Illyricum, and constituted the bishop of Thessalonica his vicar for the administration of that vast province—extending from Cape Taenarus to the Danube. He laid down the principle that the whole western church was bound to conform to the usages of Rome—a principle which so lately as the time of St. Ambrose had been utterly disallowed,—and he declared that, after the judgment of local bishops had been pronounced, an appeal lay to the Roman see, not only in such cases as had been contemplated by the council of Sardica, but in all “greater causes”. The lofty language of this bishop in receiving a communication from the Africans in the matter of Pelagius, the pretensions of his successor Zosimus in the same case, and the defeat of the latter in respect both of fact and of right, have already been mentioned. Yet in that affair Zosimus, although with little credit to himself, made an important step towards increasing the authority of his see; for his circular letter—the expression, not of his first independent opinion, but of that which had been forced on him—was the earliest instance in which a document emanating from Rome was proposed for general adoption as a standard of orthodoxy.

The Africans, although desirous of Innocent’s cooperation in the Pelagian controversy, maintained their entire independence of him. In like manner, when an African presbyter named Apiarius appealed to Rome, during the episcopate of Zosimus, the African bishops denied that appeals from Carthage might be made to churches beyond the seas, since such appeals had been forbidden by the council of Nicaea and in the African code. Zosimus, however, claimed the right of entertaining appeals, by virtue (as he asserted) of a Nicene canon. Among the Africans the mention of this authority excited great surprise, as no such canon was known to them. They sent to the eastern patriarchs for authentic copies of the Nicene code, and, in notifying this step to Boniface, who in the meantime had succeeded Zosimus, they expressed a hope that they might no longer have cause to complain of the secular pride and arrogance of Rome. The canon proved to be one, not of the Nicene, but of the Sardican council, which was not regarded as of ecumenical authority, and moreover Zosimus had strained it far beyond its real meaning. Apiarius again appealed to Rome in the time of Celestine; when the About African bishops altogether refused to admit any interference of foreign churches with the affairs of their province, and declared the holding of an opposite opinion to be a ground for excommunication.

Among the attempts of Celestine to extend the power of his see, his assumption of the right to depose a bishop of Constantinople was the most startling, as being that which went farthest beyond all precedent of former times. But the course of affairs prevented any result from this assumption, as the execution of Celestine’s mandate was superseded by the summoning of a general council, and at that assembly Nestorius was deposed, not by the authority of the Roman letter, but after an examination of his case by the bishops who were present, in the exercise of their independent judgment. The advance of the Roman pretensions, however, was significantly shown at Ephesus; for whereas Innocent and Zosimus had been content to rest the claim of Rome to supreme judicature on the authority of “fathers” and councils, Celestine’s representatives asserted it as a prerogative which St. Peter exercised through his successors.

The chief promoter of the Roman power in this period was Leo, who, in later times, has been styled the Great. Leo employed, in pursuit of his object, extraordinary genius, political skill, and theological learning. He raised the claims of the Roman bishop, as the representative of St. Peter, to a height before unknown. With that utter defiance of historical fact which afterwards became characteristic of his successors and their advocates, he declared the pretensions and the practices of his church to be matter of unbroken apostolical tradition—ascribing that venerable character to regulations introduced within the preceding half-century by Siricius, and even by still more recent bishops. Under such pretences he endeavoured to enforce the usages of Rome as a rule for the universal church; even telling Dioscorus, before their disagreement, that Alexandria ought to follow the Roman model, and giving as his reason, that it would be impious to suppose the disciple St. Mark to have varied from the rules laid down by his master St. Peter.

In the earlier years of his episcopate Leo exerted himself against various kinds of heretics,—as the Pelagians, the Manicheans (of whom many had been driven to Rome by the troubles of Africa, and who appear to have been convicted of gross depravity, as well as of errors in opinion), and the Priscillianists, who were still a considerable party in Spain. As to these last, it is to be noted that he expressly approved the execution of their founder, which, sixty years earlier, had excited the general disgust and indignation of the orthodox.

The calamities of the age removed from the path of Roman ambition the hindrance which had been opposed by the independent church of Africa,—a church distinguished far beyond Rome itself by the services which its members had rendered to theology and learning. The Africans, oppressed by the Arian invaders of their country, were glad to seek support from a connexion with Rome; and the interference which had been boldly rejected in the days of Zosimus, was admitted without objection at the hands of the later bishops. Leo extended his sway over Spain and Sicily, and in Gaul he interfered in a re­markable manner, with gross injustice to one of the most eminent men of the age.

Hilary, a monk of Lerins, had at the age of twenty-eight been obliged reluctantly to accept the metropolitan see of Arles, as successor to his former abbot, Honoratus, by whom he had been designated for the office. He became famous for his learning; for his zeal in executing discipline without respect of persons; for his charity towards the poor and captives; and for his unwearied labours and exertions in all the episcopal duties. Such was his eloquence, that his Lenten discourses, of four hours in length, were listened to with unflagging attention, although bodily weakness obliged the hearers to introduce the novelty of sitting while he preached, instead of standing, as had been usual during the delivery of sermons.

The sees of Arles and Vienne had formerly contended for precedence, and Zosimus had in 417 given a decision in favour of Arles, on the ground that it had been founded by Trophimus the Ephesian, who (he said) had been sent into Gaul by St. Peter. Hilary, at a synod held in 444, deposed a bishop named Celidonius, who thereupon complained to Leo that the bishop of Arles had exceeded his jurisdiction. Such an application could not but be welcome to Leo, since it furnished him with an opportunity for extending his power under the pretext of defending the Gaulish bishops from oppression. Hilary did not acknowledge any right in the Roman bishop to receive such appeals; he made his way to the capital on foot, in the middle of winter, for the purpose of asserting his independence; and, in consequence of the unsatisfactory nature of his communications with Leo, he left Rome secretly and returned to his diocese. But Leo, with his usual boldness, declared that the apostolic see had always been accustomed to receive appeals from Gaul. He restored Celidonius; he pronounced a sentence depriving Hilary of the power to hold synods—a power which he represented as depending on a commission from Rome; and he procured from Valentinian a very remarkable law which is supposed to have been dictated by Leo himself. In this the emperor, after magnifying the privileges of the Roman see, censures Hilary for his insubordination; he declares the bishop of Rome to be rightful ruler of the whole church; he orders that no bishop, in Gaul or elsewhere, shall make any innovation on ancient custom; that the appointments of the Roman bishop shall be obeyed as laws by all others; and that any bishop who shall neglect a citation to the tribunal of the bishop of Rome shall be forcibly compelled to appear by the civil governor of his province. This unexampled law, however, was not universally obeyed, and Hilary appears to have retained his dignity until his death, four years later; after which Leo (who then styled him “of holy memory”), at the request of the Gaulish bishops, settled the rivalry of Arles and Vienne by a division of jurisdiction.

The power of assembling general councils was not yet claimed by the bishops of Rome, but was supposed to belong to the emperors. The council of Chalcedon, as we have seen, was summoned against the will of Leo, and in many respects it thwarted his wishes and disallowed his pretensions; yet in the event it contributed greatly towards the realization of his schemes. It was at Chalcedon that the legates of Rome for the first time obtained the presidency of a general council,—a position which could hardly have been refused to them when the dissensions of the eastern patriarchs had compelled the emperor to rely so largely on the orthodoxy and the judgment of the Roman bishop. The patriarch of Constantinople, indeed, was joined with them in the presidency, while neither he nor they had any privileges beyond other members of the council, and all were alike subject to the control of the imperial commissioners. But the part which the legates took in the assembly was afterwards greatly magnified by Leo, who usually spoke of them as having judicially decided matters respecting which they had only been allowed to give their opinion, and of which the decision had been pronounced by the voice of the council at large and the adoption of the letter to Flavian, as a standard of doctrine on the Incarnation (although it was not received in submission to Leo, but was subjected to the examination of the council p), must have contributed not a little to exalt the authority of the Roman see in the estimation of Christians generally.

In his later dealings with the eastern church, Leo ventured on some remarkable innovations. It had been the practice of the great patriarchs to maintain representatives at Constantinople, for the purpose of watching over their interests in such matters as might be referred to the emperor. But whereas these representatives had always been chosen from the lower degrees of the hierarchy, Leo commissioned a bishop to act as his ordi­nary envoy. Although this bishop, Julian of Cos, belonged to another jurisdiction, Leo took it upon himself to authorize his absence from his diocese; and the object of the legation was evidently not so much to guard the interests of Rome as to overlook and coerce the patriarch of Constantinople. Leo went so far as to interfere with the internal concerns of that church by remonstrating with Anatolius against certain ordinations and appointments, and by exciting the clergy of the eastern capital to control their bishop in the administration of his office. It was natural that Anatolius should resent such interference; and a violent collision appeared to be inevitable, when the death of the patriarch, in 458, prevented the further progress of the quarrel.

We need not question that Leo conscientiously believed himself to be acting for the benefit, not of his own see only, but of the whole church. But neither respect for his great merits nor charity in the construction of his motives must be allowed to blind us to his ambition and love of domination. In him we for the first time meet with something approaching to the papacy of later times; the conception is, in the main, already formed, although as yet but imperfectly realized.

A circumstance of different tendency must be mentioned before leaving this subject. After the death of Zosimus, in December 418, the possession of the see of Rome was for a time fiercely contested between Boniface and Eulalius, each of whom was consecrated by his partisans. Boniface was at length established by the emperor Honorius, who, apparently at the bishop’s request, enacted that, when two persons should be chosen for the see of Rome, a new election should take place. And this was the origin of the important influence which temporal princes afterwards exercised in the election of the Roman bishops.

 

 

CHAPTER V.

FALL OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE. CONVERSION OF THE BARBARIANS. VANDAL PERSECUTION IN AFRICA.

 

 

WITHIN about twenty years from the death of Valentinian III the western empire had nine sovereigns. The first of these was Maximus, the senator whose vengeance had been fatal to his predecessor. His wife having died opportunely, he married the widowed empress Eudoxia; but his indiscretion in telling her that for her sake he had instigated the murder of her husband excited her disgust and indignation. In order to obtain revenge, she invited the Vandals from Africa; and her invitation was promptly answered. Within less than three months after Valentinian’s death, Genseric, whose fleet had long been the terror of the Mediterranean coasts, appeared at the mouth of the Tiber.

Maximus, in attempting to escape from Rome, was stoned to death by the populace; and three days later the invader was (June 12, 455) before the walls. Leo, at the head of his clergy, went forth to confront for the second time a barbarian conqueror; he obtained a promise that the city should not be burnt, that the lives of the inhabitants should be spared, and that they should not be tortured for the purpose of discovering their treasures. Thus the bishop's intercession mitigated in some degree the horrors of the sack which followed; but the Vandals for fourteen days gave a loose to their lust and rapacity, and they returned to Africa laden with plunder, and carrying with them a multitude of captives, among whom were Eudoxia and her two daughters. The charity of Deogratias, bishop of Carthage, on this occasion, may be related in the words of Gibbon. “He generously sold the gold and silver plate of the church to purchase the freedom of some, to alleviate the slavery of others, and to assist the wants and infirmities of a captive multitude, whose health was impaired by the hardships which they had suffered in their passage from Italy to Africa. By his order, two spacious churches were converted into hospitals : the sick were distributed in convenient beds, and liberally supplied with food and medicines; and the aged prelate repeated his visits both in the day and night, with an assiduity that surpassed his strength, and a tender sympathy which enhanced the value of his services. Compare this scene”, adds the historian, “with the field of Cannae, and judge between Hannibal and the successor of St. Cyprian”.

The loss of Africa involved that of the revenues which the Roman nobles had drawn from their estates in that country, and the cessation of the supplies of corn on which the community had in great measure depended for its support. With a view of recovering the province, the emperor Majorian, a man of character and energy worthy of a better time, made war on Genseric in 457; and eleven years later, a vast armament, chiefly supplied by the eastern emperor Leo, was sent against the Vandal king : but the first of these expeditions was defeated through the treachery of barbarian allies, and the second through the incapacity of its commander, the emperor’s brother-in-law, Basiliscus. Britain had already been abandoned by the Romans; Gaul and Spain were gradually occupied by barbarians of various races; and at length the imperial dominion was limited to a portion of the Italian peninsula. The last emperor of the west, Augustulus, was, in 476, compelled to resign his throne, and became a pensioner on the bounty of Odoacer, the first barbarian king of Italy.

In connection with the fall of the empire, the paganism of the west may be for the last time formally noticed.

Paganism had been combated in the east with severity and success. The younger Theodosius, as we have seen, professed to question whether any of his subjects continued to adhere to it; and, somewhat later, he ordered that the remaining temples should be dismantled, and purified by the sign of the cross. But in the west the old religion retained its hold longer. In cities, the pagans, when debarred from the public exercise of their worship, cultivated the household worship of the lares and penates, and celebrated their sacrifices privately, notwithstanding the imperial laws. And in the country the pagan rites were still performed without disguise, and without molestation on the part of those who were entrusted with the execution of the laws for their suppression. Maximus, bishop of Turin, about the middle of the century, remonstrates with Christian landowners for suffering their estates to be defiled with idolatry by the peasants; he describes and denounces the superstitious and disorderly celebration of the new year, which Christians had retained from the rites of Janus. Leo the Great speaks of some Christians who continued to worship the sun. Augury and other methods of divination continued to be practised. While Pagans ascribed the calamities of the empire to the suppression of their rites, Salvian, the Jeremiah of his age, and other Christians, regarded them as chastisements on account of the remains of idolatry which were still tolerated in Gaul, Africa, and elsewhere.

Pagans are occasionally mentioned as holding important positions in the state; even the emperor Anthemius (A.D. 467-472) is suspected of having favoured the old religion. Genseric’s expedition against Rome was in one respect favorable to Christianity, inasmuch as, by carrying off a number of statues, and by stripping the capitol of its thickly-gilt bronze roof, he removed from the sight of the Romans objects which recalled to mind the religion of their forefathers. But in the very last years of the century, Gelasius, bishop of Rome, had to argue against the celebration of the lupercalia, which, although only the lowest of the people took part in it, found apologists among men of senatorial rank.

Theodoric the Goth, the conqueror of Odoacer, enacted the punishment of death against all who should practise any pagan rites. There is no evidence that this law was ever executed, nor perhaps was any pagan so firmly convinced of the truth of his religion as to brave death for the assertion of it; but from that time paganism ceases to appear in the light of history. Remnants of it, however, continued to lurk in most of the western countries; although both particular actions and popular customs which have been characterized as pagan are generally to be referred to a mixture of superstition with Christianity rather than to any intentional preference of heathenism; and although much confusion has been introduced by writers who speak of the deities of barbarous nations under the names of the Greek and Roman mythology.

 

(1.) As the empire of old Rome disappears from view, we begin to discern, not only the great spiritual power which will hereafter so largely engage our attention, but the origin of modern European states; and the appearance of the northern nations in civil history brings them into connection with the history of the church. The hosts which in succession poured down on the provinces of the empire soon embraced Christianity; but their creed was generally not that of the orthodox community. The missionaries who wrought on the Teutonic nations appear to have gone forth from among the Visigoths, whose lapse into Arianism has already been related; and in some cases, where the conversion was originally to the catholic faith, Arianism was afterwards adopted in its stead, as less perplexing to rude minds, as recommended by matrimonial or political alliances, and perhaps also because of its difference from the system professed by the rulers of Rome and Constantinople. Thus the Burgundians, on the Rhine, who, in consequence of having settled in a territory where Christianity had before prevailed, had become Christians about the year 413, exchanged Catholicism for Arianism half a century later; and the Suevi, in Spain, originally converted by the orthodox bishops of Lusitania, became Arians in 469. Genseric has been charged with having effected a similar change among the Vandals; but it would seem that the accusation was invented for the purpose of making his name more odious, and that the Christianity of his nation was in reality Arian from the first. The conversion of barbarian tribes, unlike that of the Romans, usually began with the prince; and after his example the multitude pressed to the font. Among those who had been converted by such a process, it will be readily conceived that there was very little understanding of their new profession; that their Christianity was of a rude kind, and long retained a mixture of ideas derived from their old superstitions. Yet, with all its defects, both in doctrine and in morality, and although it held but a very imperfect control over the conduct of those who professed it, the Christianity of those nations did much to soften their ferocity, and greatly mitigated the sufferings of the more civilized races which they subdued.

 

(2.) The religious story of Britain is entitled to our especial attention. Yet a writer who undertakes a general compendium of church-history is bound, instead of exaggerating the proportion which that of his own country would rightly bear to the whole, to endeavor to preserve uniformity of scale, while he must refer his readers for further information to works which are expressly devoted to this portion of his subject.

During the fourth century, we find mention of British bishops as having attended the councils of Arles, Sardica, and Rimini; at the last of these it is said that three of them were compelled by poverty to accept an allowance from the emperor, which their brethren and the bishops of Gaul declined, lest it might interfere with the independence of their judgment. It is also argued (but perhaps with more of patriotism than of plausibility), that there were British bishops at the council of Nicaea. Although it would appear that Arianism was not unknown in our island, the orthodoxy of the British bishops throughout the Arian controversy is attested by the weighty evidence of Athanasius and Hilary.

Pelagius did not attempt to propagate his opinions in his native country; but, when proscribed elsewhere, they were introduced into Britain by one Agricola, and found so much acceptance that the clergy resolved to call in foreign aid, much in the same manner as their countrymen had been accustomed to invoke the help of the Roman legions for protection against the attacks of their northern neighbors. In consequence of an application from Britain, German, bishop of Auxerre, and Lupus, bishop of Troyes, were deputed by a synod of Gaulish bishops to combat the growing heresy. Their preaching and their sanctity produced a great effect, which was seconded by an abundance of miracles. In a conference at St. Alban's they defeated the heretical teachers; and it is said that German obtained for the Britons a victory over the Picts and Saxons by directing an army, mostly composed of newly-baptized converts, to raise a loud shout of “Allelujah!”. About eighteen years later, German was again invited to visit Britain, for the purpose of eradicating the remains of Pelagianism, which had begun to revive; and his labours were again successful.

The Romans, finding themselves unable to spare the forces necessary for a military establishment in Britain, had abandoned the island in the year 409. After their withdrawal, the government became gradually vested in the hands of a multitude of petty princes, and the moral condition of the inhabitants was such that the calamities which followed are represented as a righteous judgment on it. In 449, the Jutes Hengist and Horsa are said to have landed in the isle of Thanet. The Jutes, Angles, and Saxons poured in on the country, and by degrees got possession of all except the mountainous districts of the west. “Public and private buildings were alike destroyed”, says Bede; “priests were everywhere murdered at the altar; bishops and their people were indiscriminately slaughtered with fire and sword, and there was no one to bury the victims of such cruelty. Some of the wretched remnant were seized on the mountains, and were butchered by heaps; others, worn out with hunger, surrendered themselves, and on condition that they should not be immediately put to death, embraced perpetual slavery for the sake of sustenance; some sorrowfully made for regions beyond the sea; others remained in their country, and, in continual trembling and anxiety, led a life of poverty among mountains, forests, and lofty rocks”.

Some of the Britons found a refuge among the kindred inhabitants of Armorica; such of them as became serfs to the conquerors gradually lapsed into heathenism; while those who maintained their independence in Cornwall, Wales, or Cumberland, although they preserved their Christianity, lost their Roman civilization and the use of the Latin tongue. Britain was withdrawn from the view of the Roman world, and was for a time regarded as a land of mystery and fable.

 

(3.) Amid the fictions with which the early history of Scotland is overlaid, it appears to be pretty certain that Ninian preached in the beginning of the fifth century among the southern Picts, who inhabited the country between the Frith of Forth and the Grampians. This missionary is said to have been the son of a British chief, to have received his education at Rome, and to have afterwards visited St. Martin at Tours. Returning to his native country, he fixed his see in Galloway, where, with the aid of masons whom he had brought with him from Tours, he erected a church in honour of St. Martin. This building, being of white stone (whereas the British churches were usually of less durable materials), was distinguished by the name of Candida Casa, which became that of the see. Ninian’s labours may probably be dated between the years 412 and 432.

 

(4.) It is to the earlier half of the fifth century that the conversion of Ireland is usually referred. Although there had probably been some Christians in the island before that time, the accounts of bishops who are said to have previously flourished there are rejected as fabulous. Patrick, the “apostle of Ireland”, speaks of himself as having been born at a place called Bonaven, which by some writers is identified with Boulogne, while others suppose it to be a village which from him is called Kilpatrick, near Dumbarton. His original name is said to have been Succath. His father, Calphurnius, was of curial rank, and a deacon of the church; his grandfather, Potitus, was a presbyter. At the age of sixteen the youth was carried off as a captive to Ireland, where he was employed in tending sheep or cattle amid the loneliness of forests and mountains. In this occupation he was exposed to great miseries, but his soul was visited by thoughts to which it had before been a stranger; he prayed often, and his inward fervour rendered him insensible to the frost, the snow, and the rain. After six years of captivity he was delivered by means in which, according to his narrative, Providence takes the aspect of miracle, and returned to his native country. Years passed on; Patrick, according to some accounts, had travelled widely, and had studied under Martin of Tours and German of Auxerre; and he had been ordained a presbyter, when he felt himself called by visions to preach the Gospel in the land where he had been a captive. His friends opposed his design of casting himself among its savage people; one of them, who was most familiar with him, endeavored to prevent his consecration by divulging some act which Patrick had confided to him as having been committed under the age of fifteen thirty years before; but he resolutely broke through all hindrances, and was consecrated bishop of the Irish (A.D. 431)

Palladius, a deacon of the Roman church, but probably a native of Britain, had lately been consecrated by Celestine, and sent to labour among that nation, although rather with a view to the suppression of Pelagianism than to the conversion of the heathen as the primary object of his mission; but after a short stay he had withdrawn, and apparently had died in Scotland. Patrick was more persevering and more successful. He devoted the remainder of his life to the Irish denying himself the satisfaction of revisiting his country and his kindred, and labouring with great effect, although often exposed to perils from the hostility of the druids, and of the heathen princes, who slew many of his converts. The date usually assigned for the commencement of his mission is the same with that of Ninian’s death A.D. 432; the time of his own death has been a subject of dispute, but is most probably referred to the year 493.

 

(5.) In Southern Germany, where the church had been regularly organized in the time of the Roman dominion, the preservation of the faith through the changes and troubles of the age, and the conversion of the new masters of the country, were mainly due to the exertions of Severin, the “apostle of Noricum”. The origin of this missionary is unknown; he himself, as if from a feeling of humility, took pains to conceal it; but, although he came immediately from the east, the purity of his Latin was supposed to prove that he was a man of Italian birth, who, for the sake of spiritual perfection, had betaken himself to some oriental solitude.

Severin appeared in the region of Bavaria and Austria, shortly after the death of Attila (A.D. 454), and declared that he felt himself called by visions to forego his taste for a contemplative life, in order that he might labour among the people of those countries, which were then desolated by the barbarian invasions. The sight of his voluntary austerities encouraged the wretched inhabitants to endure the privations and other evils which for them were unavoidable; he gained a vast influence over all classes, and obtained from the richer the means of relieving those whose distress was greatest.

Severin declined consecration as a bishop, on the ground that he was sufficiently employed in the ministration to which he had dedicated himself; and in this he was aided by monks of whom he founded communities at Vienna, Juvavium (now Salzburg), Passau, and elsewhere. His venerable character and life awed the rude invaders, who at his suit often showed mercy to the helpless population; his presence was supposed to be a protection to the place of his abode, so that the inhabitants of the Roman towns on the Danube entreated him to reside among them by turns. His prayers were believed to prevail with heaven; the gifts of prophecy and miracles were ascribed to him. Among the instances of his prophetic foresight, it is related that, when visited by Odoacer, who had lately enlisted in the imperial guard, he discerned in the meanly dressed recruit the future king of Italy; and that he foretold the day of his own death, which took place in 482.

 

(6.) The most important conversion of the fifth century was that of Chlodowig or Clovis, who, from being king of the Salian Franks, with a narrow territory in the neighborhood of Tournay and Cambray, became the founder of the great French monarchy. Clovis, who succeeded to his hereditary kingdom in 482, married in 493 Chrotochild or Clotilda, the daughter of Chilperic, a Burgundian prince who had adhered to the catholic faith while the rest of his family fell into Arianism, and having been deprived of his inheritance and of life by his Arian brother Gundobald, was popularly regarded by the catholics of Gaul as a martyr for the orthodox faith. Clotilda long and zealously urged her husband to embrace Christianity; but although, among other evidences, she represented to him the miracles for which the shrine of St. Martin, at Tours, was then famous, Clovis remained obstinate measuring the power of a deity by the prosperity of his worshippers, and supposing that the downfall of the Roman empire was a sufficient disproof of the religion which it had professed. The queen, however, prevailed with him to let their firstborn son be baptized, and, in the hope of producing an impression on Clovis, the rite was administered with extraordinary pomp; but the death of the child, which took place within a few days, furnished the king with a new argument against a change of religion. A second son was also baptized, and, as he too fell sick, Clovis expected the vengeance of the gods to show itself in a repetition of the elder brother’s fate; but at the earnest prayer of Clotilda, the prince recovered. The queen continued her attempts to convert her husband, but without success, until at length, when engaged with the Alemanni in the battle of Tolbiac, Clovis, finding himself in danger, invoked the aid of Christ, declaring that his old gods had failed him, and vowing to become a Christian if he should obtain the victory. The Alemanni were defeated; and at Christmas, 496, Clovis with three thousand of his warriors was baptized at Reims by the bishop, Remigius. The cathedral was sumptuously adorned, brilliant with the light of innumerable tapers, and filled with perfumes of such sweetness that (as we are told) those who were present supposed themselves to be breathing the odours of paradise. As the king entered, amid the solemn chant of hymns, he was struck with awe, and, turning to Remigius, who held him by the hand, he asked whether this were the kingdom of heaven that had been promised to him?. “No”, replied the bishop; “but it is the beginning of the way thither”. The words of Remigius at the administration of the sacrament are famous “Sicambrian, gently bow thy neck; worship that which thou hast burnt, and burn that which thou hast worshipped”. And no less celebrated is the exclamation of Clovis when the bishop one day read to him the story of the Redeemer's passion : “Had I been there with my Franks, I would have avenged his wrongs!”

There is no reason for doubting that the conversion of Clovis was sincere, although it was certainly of no enlightened kind, and although, like that of Constantine (with whom the father of French history compares him), it failed to produce in him a consistent Christian life. Nor is its sincerity to be impeached because it proved favorable to the advance of his power; although in this respect the profession of catholic Christianity, as distinguished from Arianism, involved advantages which he was not slow to discern and to profit by. It secured for him the weighty influence of the clergy, who were bound to him by the tie of mutual interest; those of the south of Gaul, who had been persecuted by the Arian Euric, king of the Visigoths of Toulouse, with a bitterness in which the barbaric hatred of them as Romans was combined with religious intolerance, were ready to welcome an orthodox invader. When he was determined to make war on Euric’s successor, Alaric, in the year 507, he gave the attack a character of religion, by declaring himself indignant that Arians should possess a part of the Gaulish soil; and the story of the war thus undertaken for the faith is embellished by the chroniclers with an abundance of miracles in his favour. While unscrupulous in the use of treachery and in profusion of blood for the removal of all who stood in the way of his ambition, he preserved the favour of the clergy by his liberality towards churches and monasteries.

His religious policy was chiefly directed by Remigius, who having been consecrated to the see of Reims in 461, at the age of twenty-two, retained it for seventy-two years; and by his advice Clovis, in the last year of his own life, summoned the first Frankish council to meet at Orleans.

At the time of his conversion Clovis was the only sovereign who professed the orthodox creed; for the other princes of the west were Arians, while the emperor Anastasius favoured the monophysites. Hence the kings of France derived the title of “Eldest Son of the Church”.

From the first invasion of Africa, the Arian Vandals cruelly oppressed the Catholics. When a deputation of bishops and clergy waited on Genseric for the purpose of representing the sufferings of their party, and of entreating that, although deprived of their churches, they might be allowed to live under the Vandal rule and to minister to the consolation of their brethren, he burst into a fury, told them that he did not wish to leave one of their name or race alive, and was with difficulty dissuaded from ordering them to be thrown into the sea. Many bishops and others were banished among the savage tribes of Africa; and here, as had often happened in similar cases, their exile became the occasion of spreading the Gospel to quarters which it had not before reached. After the death of Deogratias whose charity towards Genseric’s Roman captives is rendered the more admirable by the depression which his own church was suffering no consecration of bishops was allowed in the province of Africa; and it is said that, in consequence of this prohibition, only three out of a hundred and sixty-four sees were found to be occupied thirty years after (A.D. 487). But Genseric, whose time and thoughts were chiefly employed on plundering expeditions abroad, was a less terrible scourge to the catholics than his son, Hunneric, who succeeded him in 477. In the beginning of his reign, Hunneric affected lenity towards them, and directed his severity against the Manicheans. These sectaries were in the habit of disguising themselves under the profession of less obnoxious forms of religion; and the king had the mortification of finding that most of those whom he detected had professed to be members, and some of them even clergy, of his own sect having naturally preferred the safest communion as that to which they should ostensibly attach themselves. Hunneric was connected with the imperial family, by having married the captive Eudocia, daughter of Valentinian III and Eudoxia. At the intercession of her sister Placidia. and of the eastern emperor Zeno, he intimated to the Catholics of Carthage, in 481, that they were at liberty to choose a bishop : but he added the condition that the same privileges which he allowed them should be granted in the east to the Arians, with liberty to perform their services and to preach in whatever language they pleased; and he threatened that, if these terms were not observed, the new bishop and his brethren should be sent into banishment among the Moors. The elder Catholics dreaded such conditions, and declared themselves resolved rather to live still under the immediate government of Him who had hitherto protected them. But the eagerness of the younger brethren, who had never seen a bishop of Carthage, prevailed, and Eugenius was consecrated to the see.

The virtues of the new prelate made a general impression, which alarmed the Arian clergy; and at their suggestion, Hunneric issued an order that no person in a Vandal dress should be allowed to enter the churches of the Catholics. Eugenius declared that he could not comply with this order that God’s house was open to all; whereupon officers of the government were stationed at the doors of churches, with instructions to scalp all Vandals of either sex who should attempt to enter. For a time, the king’s attention was diverted from the persecution by anxiety to secure the succession to the throne for his son. With a view to this, he executed some of his nearest relations, burnt the patriarch of his own sect for the crime of being intimate with the objects of his jealousy, and put many others of the Arian clergy to the same horrible death. The Catholics in the meanwhile apprehended that his fury might probably be next turned on themselves; and visions and other omens are related as having foreshown the approaching trials.

An edict was issued that no one who did not profess Arianism should be employed about the court, or in the public service. The recusants were deprived of all their property, and were banished to Sicily and Sardinia; the possessions of bishops were confiscated; the virgins of the church were seized, and were savagely tortured in the hope of forcing from them an avowal of licentious intercourse with the bishops and clergy. Four thousand nine hundred and seventy-six Catholics bishops, clergy, and laity were condemned to banishment into Mauritania. Hunneric was entreated to spare one aged bishop, who was paralytic in body and imbecile in mind; but he replied that, if the old man could not ride to the place of exile, he should be dragged by wild oxen. The victims, after attempts had in vain been made to cajole them by a show of kindness, were treated with atrocious and loathsome barbarity. Many died on the way in consequence of the cruelty of their Moorish guards; and the survivors found their place of exile pestilential, and infested by venomous serpents.

The king now summoned both parties to a disputation at Carthage. Eugenius professed his willingness to argue, but said that, as the question concerned the whole church, he was not at liberty to engage in a conference without the consent of his brethren in other countries. The objection was advanced in the hope that the Catholics might thus have an opportunity of making their sufferings generally known, and that they might obtain the aid of disputants who not being subjects of Hunneric, might argue without fear of his vengeance; but the tyrant answered it by saying, "Make me master of all the world, and I will grant what you require"; and he banished many of the bishops and other Catholics who had the highest reputation for learning. The first of February, 484, was fixed on for the opening of the conference. At the Epiphany, it is said, a blind man was thrice charged by visions to go to Eugenius, when the bishop should be engaged in the benediction of the font, and to beg for the recovery of his sight. Eugenius after some hesitation performed the cure, by applying the baptismal water in the form of the cross; and the miracle, displayed in the presence of a large congregation, was hailed by the orthodox with enthusiasm. The Arians, however, ascribed it to magic, and Hunneric, in order at once to terrify the Catholics and to weaken them for the intended disputation, burnt Laetus, one of the most learned members of their party, who had been long confined in prison.

On the appointed day, the Catholics, at their entrance into the place of conference, discovered the Arian patriarch, Cyrila, seated on a lofty throne; an arrangement of which they reasonably complained, as inconsistent with the equality and impartiality which ought to be observed at such meetings. Cyrila, finding them better prepared than he had expected, declined a disputation, on the plea that he could not speak Latin; Eugenius handed in a long profession of faith; and the meeting ended without any discussion

Hunneric followed up the conference by ordering that all the churches of the Catholics should be shut up in one day, and that their funds should be transferred to the Arians. He also issued an edict in which he charged the Catholics with disorderly behavior at the late meeting, and, after a recital of the penalties to which the Arians had been subjected by the imperial laws, he enacted that the Catholics within his dominions should be liable to the like. It was forbidden that any one should give them food or lodging, under pain of being burnt, with his house and family.

The bishops were then required to swear to the succession of the king's son Hilderic. Forty-six who refused, on the plea that Christians ought not to swear a plea which, as the historian of the persecution acknowledges, was intended only to serve as an excuse were sent to cut wood in Corsica; while those who complied, three hundred and two in number, were banished, and obliged to work in agriculture, as having broken the scriptural prohibition against oaths. Eighty-eight bishops were terrified or flattered into an abandonment of the catholic faith.

The barbarities which followed need not be here detailed. Victor of Vite states that the Arian clergy were more cruel than even the officers of the government; he tells us that they used to break into houses, sword in hand, and to force their baptism on the inmates of all ages, often during the night, and while the recipients of this strange sacrament were asleep. The most celebrated incident in the story of the persecution is the case of the confessors of Typasa. The Catholics of that town steadfastly refused to acknowledge an Arian bishop, and persisted in celebrating their rites; whereupon, by Hunneric’s command, a number of them sixty, according to some accounts had their right hands amputated and their tongues cut out by the roots. Yet it is related that, by a miracle, they continued to speak as before; and Victor mentions, as a particularly well known member of their company, a subdeacon named Reparatus, who found a home in the palace of Constantinople.

While the persecution was at its height, Africa was laid waste by famine and pestilence, and Hunneric, after a reign of seven years and ten mouths, died by the same loathsome disease as Herod and other persecutors.

Amid the inconsistent accounts which are given of Hunneric’s nephew and successor, Gundamund, it would appear that at first he followed the policy of the preceding reign, but that afterwards he allowed the Catholics to enjoy toleration. His brother, Thrasimund, who reigned from 496 to 523, was the ablest of the Vandal kings, and, unlike his race in general, was distinguished by a love of literature; but he was a bigoted Arian, and, after having in vain attempted to gain the catholics by bribery, laid snares for them, in order to obtain a pretext for persecution. Their sufferings were great during this reign. Thrasimund forbade the consecration of bishops, and sent two hundred and twenty members of the order into banishment for a breach of his prohibition. Among his victims was Eugenius of Carthage, who died in exile at Albi.

On the death of Thrasimund, Hilderic, the same to whom an oath of fidelity had been exacted by his father Hunneric, succeeded to the throne, after an exclusion of nearly forty years. His predecessor had compelled him to swear that he would make no change in the state of religion; but Hilderic, a prince of gentle temper, thought it less sinful to break than to keep such an engagement, and granted the Catholics the free exercise of their religion.

The usurper Gelimer, in 530, revived the persecuting spirit of Arianism, but within four years the Vandal dominion was overthrown by the arms of Justinian’s general, Belisarius. During the contest with the Vandals the most eminent controversialists on the catholic side were Vigilius, bishop of Tapsus (to whom some have ascribed the authorship of the Athanasian creed), and Fulgentius, bishop of Ruspe

 

CHAPTER VI.

MONOPHYSITISM.—JUSTINIAN.—THE THREE ARTICLES.

 A.D. 451-566.

 

 

The council of Chalcedon was represented as Nestorian by its opponents, and the strife which it was meant to allay continued to distract the church. The name of Eutychians was soon superseded by that of Monophysites, i.e. maintainers of one nature only; for Eutyches himself fell into discredit, and those who rejected the late council were generally willing to anathematize him, on account of a sort of docetism which was imputed to him—an opinion that the body of our Lord was not truly human, but had descended from heaven.

The monophysites, on the contrary, maintained that the Saviour was “consubstantial with us, as touching his flesh”; while as to his soul they rejected the idea of an absorption of the manhood into the Godhead, and reverted to the formula “one incarnate nature”, acknowledging, moreover, that this one nature was twofold. In addition to the elder authorities on which they had hitherto relied, the monophysites were reinforced towards She end of the century by a forgery executed in Egypt —the mystical works ascribed to Dionysius the Areopagite. These writings, although originally brought forward by a heterodox party, and although their essence is said to be not Christian, but neo-Platonic, were, with hardly a question, universally received as genuine, and retained their credit for a thousand years.

Juvenal of Jerusalem, on returning from Chalcedon, found that the see for which he had just achieved the patriarchal dignity was occupied by a turbulent monk named Theodosius, who was countenanced by Eudocia, widow of the emperor Theodosius II. For two years this intruder held possession of Palestine, being supported by monks and by a force of ruffians, who exercised a general system of terror, burning houses and monasteries, expelling bishops and clergy, and committing murders without restraint. At length, however, through the conciliatory policy of Marcian and Pulcheria, his chief supporters were drawn away from him. Juvenal resumed his bishopric, and after a time Eudocia, partly influenced by the persuasions of Symeon the Stylite, and partly by the calamities which had befallen her daughter and grand­children in the Vandal expedition against Rome, was induced to rejoin the catholic communion.

At Alexandria Proterius was elected in the room of Dioscorus (A.D. 452), but found himself fiercely opposed by a powerful faction, which could only be kept down by a military force at the expense of much bloodshed. On the death of the emperor Marcian (457) , the malcontents thought that their opportunity had at length arrived. Timothy named Elurus (the Cat), who, with Peter Mongus (the hoarse), had separated from the communion of Proterius, and had been excommunicated by him, raised a mob, and was consecrated by two deposed bishops. On Thursday before Easter Proterius was murdered in the baptistery of his cathedral; his body, after having been hung up in mockery, was dragged about the streets and cut in pieces; some of the multitude tasted his entrails; the remains were then burnt, and the ashes were scattered to the winds. The catholic clergy were expelled, and the other adherents of Proterius were persecuted.

The accession of Marcian’s successor, Leo, was rendered remarkable by his receiving the crown from the hands of the patriarch Anatolius,—the first instance of a solemnity which has become usual in Christian states. The new emperor, who before his elevation had been a military officer, began by publishing a confirmation of all that his predecessor had done in the matter of religion. The Alexandrian differences were soon brought under his notice by some envoys of each party; whereupon he issued a requisition to the bishops of every province, and to the most eminent monks, desiring them to give their opinions on the council of Chalcedon and on the pretensions of Elurus. By this expedient Leo probably hoped to obtain a judgment equivalent to that of a general council, without risking the inconveniences connected with such assemblies. The result was an unanimous sentence against Elurus and in favour of the council; although some bishops of Pamphylia, while they admitted the correctness of the decisions of Chalcedon, and their utility for the defence of the faith, questioned the fitness of imposing them as terms of communion. Elurus was banished to Cherson; and another Timothy, an ecclesiastic of the catholic party (who is distinguished by the names of Salophaciolus and the White), was chosen in his stead, and for fifteen years governed the Alexandrian church with wisdom and moderation

Leo was succeeded in 474 by his grandson of the same name, the son of his daughter Ariadne by Zeno; but the child died within a year, and Zeno remained in possession of the throne. The private character of this emperor was stained by gross and shameless debauchery. His reign was disquieted by many rebellions, one which compelled him for nearly two years to give way to Basiliscus, the brother-in-law of Leo, —the same whose misconduct in the expedition against the Vandals of Africa has already been mentioned. Basiliscus, who was supported by the monophysite party, recalled Timothy Elurus from banishment, and restored him to the see of Alexandria; he also restored to Antioch Peter “the Fuller”, a monophysite, who had been twice expelled from the see in the reign of Leo; and he took it upon himself to issue an encyclic or circular letter, condemning the council of Chalcedon, and laying down definitions as to faith—the first document of the kind which had been put forth by any emperor. Timothy of Alexandria, Peter of Antioch, and, it is said, about five hundred other bishops, subscribed the edict. But Acacius, who in 471 had become patriarch of Constantinople, displayed on this occasion a vehemence which contrasts strongly with the courtly and equivocating policy of his ordinary conduct as to matters of religion. Perhaps, as has been suggested, Acacius may have been animated in his opposition to Basiliscus, not only by zeal for the faith of Chalcedon, but by a regard for the privileges which the council had bestowed on his see, and by attachment to the emperor to whom he had owed his elevation. He arrayed his person and his church in mourning, and by his preaching excited the monks and people of the capital against the usurper. Both Basiliscus and the patriarch sent envoys to Daniel the stylite, who had succeeded Symeon as the most revered oracle of the time. Warned by a vision, Daniel descended from his pillar, and appeared in Constantinople; he confirmed the orthodoxy of the council of Chalcedon by performing a number of miracles, denounced against Basiliscus the judgments of this world and of the next, and did not leave the city until the usurper, alarmed at the report that Zeno was approaching, and was supported by the whole catholic party, published a second edict, revoking his circular, anathematizing Eutyches as well as Nestorius, and approving the council of Chalcedon. It is said that Basiliscus fled for safety to a church, and that the patriarch, disregarding the example of his great predecessor Chrysostom, gave up the unhappy man to the relentless vengeance of Zeno.

Things were now again changed. Most of the bishops who had signed the circular of Basiliscus eagerly went over to the opposite party. Peter the Fuller was ejected from Antioch, and Elurus would have been ejected from Alexandria but that his advanced age promised a speedy vacancy in the see. On his death, which took place before the end of the year 477, Peter Mongus was irregularly consecrated as patriarch by two deprived bishops, if not by a single bishop. The emperor deposed, but did not banish him, and Timothy Salophaciolus was reinstated. This patriarch administered his office with a mildness which drew from the emperor admonitions to be more rigid in suppressing the meetings of the monophysites; while with these he was so popular that, on meeting him in the streets, they used to express their regard for him, and their regret at being obliged to stand aloof from his communion. On his death, in 482, John Talaia, steward of the church, was elected to the patriarchate; but the emperor objected to him on account of his connexion with Illus, an officer who had lately revolted. Talaia was expelled, and took refuge at Rome; and Peter Mongus renewed his pretensions to the see of Alexandria.

The doctrines of the monophysites had by degrees been so greatly improved from the original Eutychianism that the idea of reconciling the party with the Catholics might now appear not unreasonable or hopeless. By the advice of Acacius, Zeno put forth a document bearing the title of Henoticon (or Form of Union), which was originally addressed to the Egyptian patriarchate, but was afterwards made a standard for other churches also. In this, the emperor, after alluding to the discords, the bloodshed, the destitution of the means of grace, and other unhappy consequences which had resulted from the late controversies, declares the creed of Nicaea and Constantinople to be the only baptismal creed, anathematizes Nestorius and Eutyches, and approves of Cyril’s twelve anathemas. He states that Christ is “consubstantial with the Father as touching his Godhead, and with us as touching his manhood”; that “the miracles and the sufferings were of one and the same Person”. He reprobates those who “divide, confuse, or introduce the notion of a phantasy”; he anathematizes “any one who thought or thinks anything to the contrary, either now or at document was composed in the belief that the doctrine of Chalcedon would of itself be received without objection in quarters where the name of the council was obnoxious”; and, while it avoided the expression “in two natures” and the confirmation of the council, it set forth those points of doctrine as to which both parties were agreed. But the care which was taken to consult the prejudices of the monophysites naturally rendered it objectionable to the Catholics; and the mention of Chalcedon, although only in a hypothetical form, appeared to go somewhat beyond a neutrality, as if a slight to the council were intended. At Rome, especially, no approbation was to be expected, inasmuch as the bishop had not been consulted on the occasion, and as there was no mention of Leo’s letter to Flavian.

It was intimated to Peter Mongus, that, on condition of subscribing the Henoticon and of admitting the Proterians to communion, he might be allowed to hold the bishopric of Alexandria. To these terms he consented and the great body of the Catholics submitted to him, while the extreme Eutychians formed a separate sect, which, as being without a head, received the name of Acephali. Peter endeavoured to gain these by anathematizing the council of Chalcedon and the letter to Flavian; it is even said that with the same view he disinterred the body of Salophaciolus. In answer to a remonstrance from Acacius, he said that he had accepted the council of Chalcedon as containing no innovation on the faith, but he did not deny that he had acted with a tortuous policy. While Peter laboured by such means, but with very little success, to conciliate the Acephali, he exercised great severity towards such of the Catholics as refused to communicate with him.

Peter was received into communion by Acacius, and by Martyrius of Jerusalem; and the patriarch of Constantinople wrote in his behalf to Rome. But the interest of Rome had been already gained by the expelled bishop of Alexandria, John Talaia. Two successive popes, Simplicius and Felix, addressed letters in favour of him both to the emperor and to Acacius; but the patriarch in reply assured Felix that Peter was a rightly chosen and orthodox bishop, and Zeno threw out charges of perjury against John. Acacius won over two legates of Felix, and persuaded them to be present at a service in which the name of Peter was recited in the diptychs—an act by which they seemed to give the sanction of Rome to his tenure of the Alexandrian patriarchate. For this compliance the legates, on their return home, were tried before an Italian synod, which deposed and excommunicated them; and the synod proceeded to condemn Acacius, whom Felix had previously cited to appear at Rome and give an account of his communicating with Peter Mongus. The sentence was intimated to Acacius in a letter from Felix and other bishops, declaring him to be deposed, degraded, and separated from the number of the faithful, as having been condemned by the judgment of the Holy Spirit and by apostolical authority, so that he should never be unloosed from the anathema pronounced against him. The Roman bishop would probably not have ventured on this unexampled proceeding, but that the reign of Odoacer in Italy had encouraged him to disregard the emperor of the east. The Greeks complained of the irregularity with which it was conducted as well as of the assumption which it involved. Acacius took no other notice of it than by removing the name of Felix from the diptychs of Constantinople.

The deposition of Acacius was announced by Felix to the clergy and people of Constantinople, and it was declared that all who should not separate from the patriarch were cut off from the communion of Rome. A great number of monks, including the Acoemetae, a society of extraordinary repute for sanctity, preferred the connexion of Rome to that of their own bishop; so that division was thus introduced into the church of the eastern capital itself. The schism which ensued lasted five-and-thirty years, and the precipitancy with which the excommunication was pronounced was equalled by the rigour with which it was carried out—the bishops of Rome treating the whole east as heretical for refusing to break with Acacius, although he himself had not been charged with heresy, but only with the secondary offence of communicating with alleged heretics. Tillemont remarks on this occasion that later popes have been glad to invoke the intercession of saints whom, when alive, their predecessors rejected from communion.

Within a few years, the chief persons who had been concerned in the monophysite troubles were removed from the scene. The last days of John Talaia were spent in an Italian bishopric, which had been bestowed on him by Felix. Peter the Fuller—who in 485 had been established in the see of Antioch on signing the Henoticon, and had been acknowledged by his namesake of Alexandria, although Acacius evaded a recognition of him—died in 488; and Acacius in the following year. Fravitta, the successor of Acacius, held the o patriarchate for only four months, and was succeeded by Euphemius, an orthodox bishop who renounced the communion of Peter Mongus, and was preparing for a contest with him, when the patriarch of Alexandria died. At the death of Zeno, in 491, the church, instead of having been united by his Henoticon, was divided into three great parties :—Antioch, under Palladius, and Alexandria, under Athanasius, were monophysite; Jerusalem was with Constantinople; while Rome and the west stood aloof.

Anastasius, on whom the daughter of Leo and widow of Zeno bestowed her hand and the empire, had already attained the age of sixty, and reigned twenty-seven years. Before his elevation he bore a high character for piety; and his general reputation is attested by the cry with which he was greeted— “Reign as you have lived!”. He was, however, suspected by the patriarch Euphemius, who refused to consent to his promotion, except on receiving a written assurance that no innovation should be attempted in the matter of religion, and that the council of Chalcedon should be maintained. It is said that some of the emperor’s relations were Arians and Manicheans; and by many writers he is charged with the errors of those sects, as well as with that of the monophysites, whose interests were favoured by the result, if not by the intention, of his policy. Yet his orthodoxy has been warmly defended; and his principle of action has been characterized as impartiality rather than indifference. Anastasius professed to aim at peace, and to abhor the idea that any who believed in Christ, and bore the name of Romans, should be vexed on account of their opinions. Evagrius tells us that under him the council of Chalcedon was neither openly preached nor wholly rejected; that the bishops took different courses with respect to it; and that the emperor, in his desire to check all innovation, ejected those who introduced into their dioceses a change in either direction. Throughout the reign the eastern patriarchates continued to be unquiet, and the Henoticon was the test generally prescribed—a test to which all but the extreme members of the opposite parties were willing to submit, but which had the disadvantage of being insufficient to insure harmony among those who subscribed it. The dissensions of the clergy among themselves compelled Anastasius to depart so far in practice from his principle of peace or indifference, that to the Catholics he appeared a persecutor, and his name is marked with especial detestation by the orthodox historians. Tales of impiety, which savour strongly of fiction, are related of him; miracles and portents are said to have declared the wrath of heaven against him; and his end is described with fabulous circumstances of horror.

Euphemius of Constantinople was deposed and banished in 496; his successor, Macedonius, in 511 or 512. Although the ejection of Euphemius was ostensibly grounded on political charges, it is probable that in both cases the patriarchs had offended by refusing to enter into the policy of the court as to religion. Alexandria was held by a succession of bishops who rejected the council of Chalcedon, but were yet unable to reduce the Acephali to their communion. In the patriarchate of Antioch, the religious agitations of the time occasioned much tumult and bloodshed. Flavian, one of its bishops, was banished in 512, although, in order to clear himself from the charge of Nestorianism, he had gradually yielded to anthematize, not only Nestorius, but Diodore, Theodore, Theodoret, Ibas, and finally the council of Chalcedon. Elias of Jerusalem, who in like manner had made large concessions, was nevertheless deposed in the following year. Throughout the reign of Anastasius, Rome remained in separation from the east. The overtures from Euphemius and the emperor were met with unbending haughtiness by Gelasius, who filled the see from 492 to 496. The next bishop, Anastasius II, opened communications with Constantinople in a tone of conciliation; it is said that he was willing, for the sake of peace, even to admit that the name of Acacius should remain in the diptychs. But his death put a stop to the negotiation, and his successor, Symmachus, exchanged with the eastern emperor accusations of heresy and messages of defiance.

Severus, a monk who afterwards became patriarch of Antioch on the deprivation of Flavian, introduced at Constantinople an addition which Peter the Fuller had made to the trisagion—the words, “Who was crucified for us”. In consequence of this a serious collision took place between the Catholics and the monophysites of the capital, during the episcopate of Macedonius; but after his deposition one of still more alarming character arose. By order of the emperor, two prefects entered a church, ascended the pulpit or screen, and began to chant the trisagion with the Antiochene addition; whereupon a tumult ensued, many persons were killed, and a number of Catholics were committed to prison. On the following day a fresh conflict took place; and the disturbance came to its height on the occasion of a solemn procession, which took place on the third day. Timothy, the monophysite successor of Macedonius, had given orders that the new clause should be used. Those who obeyed him were met by bands of the catholic monks, chanting the trisagion in its old form; the parties fell to blows; the populace of the city mixed in the fray, and many lives were lost. Among the slain were a female recluse, and a monk who was suspected of having suggested the performance of the prefects to the emperor; the monk’s head was cut off, stuck on a pole, and carried in procession as that of an enemy to the Divine Trinity. Houses were sacked and burnt; the emperor’s pictures and statues were defaced and thrown down, and there were cries for a new emperor. Anastasius, then more than eighty years of age, withdrew from the city; but after three days he presented himself in the circus without the ensigns of sovereignty, when the multitude, by way of insult, received him by shouting the orthodox trisagion. He addressed them by the mouth of a herald, professing himself willing to abdicate, but reminding them that they could not all reign, and that they must make choice of one for their emperor. The people were moved by his words, and by the sight of his humiliation; and, after having promised to gratify them with the blood of the obnoxious prefects, he was allowed to resume the government.

The last years of the reign were disquieted by the insurrection of Vitalian, a Scythian or Gothic chief, who took arms for the catholic faith, devastated Thrace, and threatened Constantinople. He required that the banished orthodox bishops should be restored; that the council of Chalcedon should be acknowledged; that communion with Rome should be resumed, and that a new general council should be called, at which the pope should assist. To these terms the emperor at length submitted; but the exorbitant demands of Hormisdas, the successor of Symmachus, prevented any accommodation between the east and the west during the lifetime of Anastasius. The emperor died in 518, and was succeeded by Justin, an aged soldier of Slavonic race, in whose name the government was really administered by his nephew Justinian. Vitalian after having been promoted to the highest offices by the new sovereign, was in the seventh month of his consulship treacherously assassinated at the imperial table; and Justinian is suspected of having contrived his murder.

Timothy, patriarch of Constantinople, had died a short time before the emperor Anastasius. When his successor, John, appeared in the cathedral on the first Sunday after the accession of Justin, he was greeted with loud outcries, that, since the Manichaean Anastasius no longer reigned, the council of Chalcedon should be confirmed, Severus of Antioch, with the rest of the “Manicheans”, should be expelled, and a reconciliation should be established with Rome. The new government was disposed to comply with the popular desire; Severus and other monophysites were deprived, and for the most part took refuge at Alexandria, where their party was so strong that the emperor did not venture to excite the unruly population by any attempt against it. But the concourse of monophysite teachers had the effect of producing or bringing to light differences among themselves; and many of them branched off into minor sects—such as Agnoetes, Aphthartodocetes, and Niobites—whose tenets and history need not be here detailed.

Fresh overtures were now made from Constantinople to Hormisdas of Rome, and all his demands were granted' The names of Acacius and of his four successors who had died during the schism, with those of the emperors Anastasius and Zeno, were removed from the diptychs. The orthodox confessors Euphemius and Macedonius were not distinguished from the heretical Fravitta and Timothy; but Acacius was more especially reprobated by an anathema. It was found, however, that many churches of the east were not so ready as that of Constantinople to abandon the memory of their late bishops; and, as Hormisdas required the sacrifice of all who had communicated with Acacius, the demand occasioned disturbances so serious that both the imperial government and the patriarch repeatedly entreated the pope to abate the rigour of his terms. Hormisdas at length agreed to empower the patriarch Epiphanius, the successor of John, to act for him in receiving the churches into communion. The matter was accommodated by the retention of certain names on the diptychs; and eventually Euphemius and Macedonius, with Flavian of Antioch, Elias of Jerusalem, and some others who had died during the separation, were acknowledged by Rome as saints. The Henoticon, without being formally repealed, from this time disappeared; and everywhere, except in Egypt, the council of Chalcedon was received.

About the same time that Anastasius ascended the throne of Constantinople, the sovereignty of Italy was transferred from the Herulians to the Ostrogoths. Theodoric, prince of the Amali, after having endangered the empire of Zeno, had received his permission to undertake the conquest of that country. He defeated Odoacer in three great battles, and, after having besieged him for three years in Ravenna, admitted him to a treaty on equal terms. But the Herulian king, on a pretended charge of conspiracy, was stabbed at a banquet—perhaps even by the hand of his colleague and rival—and the Goths became sole masters of Italy.

After the death of Odoacer, Theodoric reigned thirty- three years with vigour and in prosperity. His dominions extended as far as the Danube, and he put a bar to the extension of the Frankish conquests under Clovis. His wisdom and justice were exerted for the establishment of equality between the victorious and the conquered races, and, while he adhered to the Arian creed of his nation, he did not attempt to enforce it on others. “We cannot impose religion by command”, he said, “since no one can be made to believe against his will”. He employed Catholics as his ministers, and entrusted catholic bishops with the most important embassies; he acknowledged the orthodox clergy in their position, bestowed munificent gifts on their churches, and, although unwilling to interfere in the internal concerns of the church, he exercised over the bishops of Rome a control which the later emperors of the west had through weakness allowed to escape from their hands. His toleration (as we have seen) did not extend to the allowance of pagan rites although he exerted a watchful care to preserve the monuments of Roman greatness; but it included the Jews, whom he steadily protected against the outrages of their Christian neighbours.

So long as Rome and Constantinople were separated by schism, Theodoric had no reason to distrust the loyalty of his catholic subjects. But the reconciliation of the churches, in the beginning of Justin’s reign, suggested to him that the Romans might be tempted to look towards the east for deliverance from the sway of a barbarian conqueror; and in no long time his anger and alarm were excited by the measures which Justin took for the purpose of establishing unity of religion. In 523 the emperor issued edicts by which it was ordered that Manicheans should be capitally punished; that other heretics should not be allowed to celebrate their worship; and that, with Jews, Pagans, and Samaritans, they should be excluded from civil or military employment. The Gothic soldiery of the empire were, indeed, exempted from this law; but Theodoric was bent on securing, not only for his own nation but for the oriental members of his sect, the same freedom of religion which he allowed to his catholic subjects. He earnestly remonstrated with Justin by letter; and, as the reply was unsatisfactory, he despatched to Constantinople an embassy consisting of John, bishop of Rome, five other bishops, and four senators. It was the first time that a pope had visited the eastern capital. John was received with unbounded reverence; almost the whole population of the city poured forth to greet his arrival, bearing torches and crosses in their hands, and the emperor cast himself at his feet The patriarch of Constantinople yielded him precedence, and Justin submitted to a new coronation by the hands of the successor of St. Peter. But on his return to Italy, John was cast into prison, where he soon after died. The reasons of his imprisonment are matter of uncertainty and dispute; the most probable opinion appears to be, that the bishop, although he successfully performed the other parts of the commission, had refused to ask that Arians who had professed Catholicism might be allowed to return to their heresy; and that the jealousy of Theodoric was also offended by the excessive honours which had been paid to him by the eastern court. The dread of conspiracy against his rule had exasperated the aged king to gloomy and relentless suspicion of his Italian subjects, which had already been fatal to two of the most distinguished among them,—Boethius and Symmachus. Boethius had filled the highest offices of the state; while his genius and the learning in which he was believed to surpass all his contemporaries had been displayed in works embracing an extraordinary variety of subjects and modes of composition—history, poetry, theology, philosophy, music, mathematics, astronomy, and other branches of physical science. He had long enjoyed the favour of Theodoric; but his character as a patriot, and perhaps also as a catholic, rendered his position hazardous, and the zeal with which he asserted the innocence of his friend Albinus, who was accused of a treasonable correspondence with the east, exposed him to a share in the accusation. A, signature, which he declared to be forged, was produced as evidence against him; he was denied the opportunity of defending himself, and, a short time before the mission of John to Constantinople, was committed to a tower at or near Pavia, where he solaced himself by the composition of his famous books On the Consolation of Philosophy. After having been cruelly tortured, Boethius was beaten to death with clubs, and his father-in-law, the venerable chief of the senate, Symmachus, on an apprehension that the desire of vengeance might tempt him to treason, was soon after summoned to Ravenna and beheaded.

Theodoric himself did not long survive. It is said that, in indignation at the result of the mission to Constantinople, he went so far as to dictate an edict for the suppression of the catholic worship in Italy; although, if this statement be true, it is certain that the law was not carried into effect. But the feelings which the once just and tolerant king had aroused by the severities of his last days, are apparent from the stories connected with his death. Procopius tells us that he was haunted by a frightful vision, in which remorse called up before his eyes the form of the murdered Symmachus; and a legend, to which the name of Pope Gregory the Great gave currency and credit, relates that a hermit on the island of Lipari saw the Arian persecutor cast by Symmachus and Pope John into the crater of the volcano, which was believed to be the entrance of hell.

In April 527, Justinian was formally associated with his uncle as a colleague, and in August of the same year he became sole emperor, at the age of forty-five. Among the secular events of his long reign, the wars in Italy and in Africa had an important bearing on the history of religion.

Among the Vandals of Africa, the possession of the means of luxury had speedily proved fatal to that purity of manners which Salvian at an earlier time had indignantly contrasted with the depravity of his brethren who professed a sounder faiths The valour of the barbarians was undermined by the temptations of sensual enjoyment; the usurper Gelimer was dethroned by the arms of the imperial general, Belisarius; and some years later, on a rebellion of the Vandals and Moors, the country was completely subjugated. After the first conquest the catholic church was restored to its ascendency, although the bishops were reduced to one-half or one-third of their ancient number. It is reckoned that during the reign of Justinian Africa lost five millions of inhabitants; thus Arianism was extinguished in that region, not by an enforcement of conformity, but by the extermination of the race which had introduced and professed it.

The Ostrogoths of Italy, after the death of Theodoric, were distracted by factions and crimes. The military achievements of Belisarius and Narses in the peninsula threw a last and deceptive splendour over the power of the eastern empire. By these generals the Gothic kings, Vitiges (537-9), Totila (546-52), and Teias (553), were successively defeated, the invasions of the Franks and the Alemanni were repelled; and from the year 554, Narses, with the title of exarch, administered the government of Italy as a deputy of the emperor. The sufferings of the country during the revolutions of this period were greater than those which it has endured in any other of its calamities, whether earlier or later; the number of its inhabitants who perished by war, by famine, or in other ways, is supposed to have exceeded the whole of its modern population. With the Gothic monarchy, Arianism for a time disappeared from Italy.

Justinian lived strictly and spent much of his time in theological studies. He was fond of mixing in controversy and of acting as a regulator in religion, so that his subjects derided him for devoting himself to such matters, while he left the great political and military affairs of the empire to the management of his ministers and generals. He was munificent in his gifts for building churches and hospitals; but it is said that the means of this liberality were too commonly obtained by extortion, corrupt administration of justice, false accusations, and wrongful confiscation. The greatest architectural monument of his reign was the patriarchal church of the eternal Wisdom (St. Sophia). This church had been originally built by Constantine; it had been destroyed by fire at the time of Chrysostom's banishment, and, after having been then restored, was again burnt down in the tumult known by the name of Nika (532) . Justinian rebuilt it at a vast expense and as he cast his eyes around the magnificent structure on the day of the dedication, after expressing his thankfulness to God who had permitted him to accomplish so great a work, (544), he exclaimed, “O Solomon, I have surpassed thee!”. The dome of the dome church was afterwards shattered by an earthquake (557); but Justinian restored it with increased height and splendour, and performed a second dedication in the thirty-sixth year of his reign. The establishment of the cathedral was fixed by one of his laws at the number of 60 priests, 100 deacons, 40 deaconesses, 90 subdeacons, no readers, 25 singers, and 100 ostiaries and, ample as this provision may seem, the law was set forth as a check on the practice of bishops, who had been in the habit of ordaining clergy without any limit, and without considering whether the church had the means of supporting them.

To the reign of Justinian is referred the extinction of philosophical heathenism. The Neoplatonists had until then continued to teach at Athens. They were obliged outwardly to respect the religion of the state; but their esoteric doctrines were pagan, and their system, in its mysticism and in its pretension to intercourse with higher powers, bore a curious resemblance to the superstitions which were at the same time growing on the church. With a view to depriving paganism of its last support, Justinian in 529 ordered that the schools of Athens should be closed; whereupon Simpliciusx and six other philosophers, who were bereft of their occupation by the edict, feeling themselves insecure within the imperial territories, resolved to emigrate to Persia and seek the patronage of King Chosroes, of whose enlightenment they had heard exaggerated celebrations, and whose subjects had been described to them as faultless models of every social virtue. But although they were well received by the king, they found their expectations grievously disappointed, and sighed for their native country, to which they eagerly desired to return, even at the risk of encountering persecution. In a treaty with Justinian, Chosroes stipulated that they should be exempted from the penal laws against their religion; they lived unmolested during the remainder of their days, and left no disciples or successors.

In the same year with his order for closing the Athenian schools, the emperor enacted that all pagans and heretics should be excluded from civil or military office. They were allowed three months to choose between conformity and banishment; or, if permitted to remain without abjuring their errors, they were to be deprived of all civil privileges. A great mass of pretended conversions was the result; while the edict produced a serious insurrection among the Samaritans, and many sectaries, who abhorred the hypocrisy of changing their religion at the emperor's command, were driven by desperation to suicide. The most noted act of this kind was performed by some Montanists in Phrygia, who shut themselves up in their meeting-houses, set fire to them, and perished in the flames.

Although Justinian was a “synodite”, or partisan of the council of Chalcedon, his wife Theodora, whom he raised to the position of a colleague in the empire, was a zealous monophysite. As her influence over her husband was unbounded in all other respects, it has been suggested that this division of theological interests may have been a matter of politic arrangement between the imperial pair. Theodora gathered round her a party of monophysites : she prevailed on Justinian to invite Severus, the expelled patriarch of Antioch, to the capital, and even promoted Anthimus, a secret enemy of the council of Chalcedon, to the patriarchate of Constantinople. In the year after this appointment, Agapetus, bishop of Rome, was obliged by the Gothic king Theodahat to undertake a mission to Constantinople, for the purpose of averting a threatened attack of Justinian. The mission failed of its political object; but at the request of the catholic party, Agapetus exposed to the emperor the heterodoxy of Anthimus, and obtained his deposition on the ground that he had been uncanonically translated from another see. Mennas, who was raised to the vacant chair, was consecrated by the pope, and soon after held a council, at which Anthimus, after an examination of his opinions, was found guilty of heresy and was excommunicated.

Agapetus died at Constantinople before the meeting of this council, and Vigilius, his archdeacon, who had accompanied him, was urged by Theodora to become a candidate for the papacy. The emperor promised to support him with influence and with money, if he would condemn the council of Chalcedon, and would communicate with Anthimus and other monophysites; but before he could reach Rome, a subdeacon named Sylverius, son of Pope Hormisdas, was elected. In the following year, while Belisarius was besieged in Rome by the Goths, Sylverius was summoned to appear before him. The general's wife, Antonina, who was reclining on a couch, while Belisarius occupied a place at her feet, reproached the pope for having entered into a treasonable correspondence with the enemy. His attempts at denial were overpowered by the production of written evidence; he was immediately stripped of the ensigns of his dignity, and was sent off by sea to the east, while Vigilius was elected in his room, and paid for the interest of Belisarius two hundred pounds of gold. Sylverius, after having been banished to Patara, in Lycia, was sent back to Italy by Justinian, in order to a fresh investigation of his case; but through the contrivance of the intruder he was seized and carried off to the island of Palmaria (Palmarola), where he died of hunger. Although, however, Vigilius had thus delivered himself from his rival, his position was one of much difficulty and danger; for he had made a secret compact with Theodora to labour against the council of Chalcedon, while his public engagements bound him to an opposite line of conduct.

From about the year 520, the monasteries of Palestine had been agitated by disturbances on the subject of Origen’s opinions, which were especially maintained by the members of the “New Laura” (a society founded by St. Sabbas, in the beginning of the century), while the other monks were for the most part violent anti-Origenists. There had been censures, expulsions, frequent affrays, and considerable bloodshed. The patriarchs of Antioch and Jerusalem were unable to allay the differences, and Justinian was well pleased to receive an appeal in the matter. He published a letter to the patriarch Mennas, censuring certain doctrines extracted or inferred from Origen’s writings; he declared that these doctrines were borrowed from Plato and the Manicheans (apparently forgetting that Manes was later than Origen); and he desired the patriarch to bring the question before the home synod. By this body the opinions of Origen were again censured, and fifteen anathemas were pronounced against them. The imperial manifesto was subscribed by Vigilius and by the four patriarchs of the east; but the course of ecclesiastical politics now took a curious and unexpected turn.

Theodore Ascidas, a monk of Origenistic opinions, who had been appointed to the bishopric of Caesarea in Cappadocia, but usually resided at Constantinople, had acquired great influence over Justinian. By some process of casuistry, he prevailed on himself to sign the anathemas against Origen; but he felt the necessity of diverting the emperor’s mind from the dangerous direction which it had taken. Knowing Justinian’s anxiety to reduce the Acephali to conformity, Theodore told him that their opposition to the council of Chalcedon did not arise from repugnance to its doctrines, but from its acknowledgment of persons suspected of Nestorianism—such as Theodoret and Ibas; he therefore suggested that, by a condemnation of these bishops, with the reputed father of Nestorianism, Theodore of Mopsuestia, the prejudices of the party might be overcome, and they might be won to a reconciliation with the church. As for the objection to condemning persons who had died in the catholic communion, it was (he said) removed by the late precedent of the anathemas against Origen. By this suggestion Ascidas may have hoped not only to secure the important object of engaging the emperor in a new question, but doubly to gratify himself—as an Origenist, by proscribing the great master of literal interpretation, and as a monophysite, by striking a blow at the authority of the fourth general council.

The device was in so far successful that, instead of controversies as to Origenism and monophysitism, the general attention was soon occupied by a dispute whether certain writings a century old were favourable to Nestorianism. Justinian published an edict in which he condemned Theodore of Mopsuestia and his works, Theodoret’s writings in favour of Nestorius and against Cyril, and a letter from Ibas to a Persian named Maris. This letter, written under great exasperation, severely reflected on Cyril; but its orthodoxy as to doctrine had been expressly acknowledged at Chalcedon. The emperor, however, contrived to reconcile his condemnation of the letter with his profession of respect for the council by the supposition that a forged document had been substituted for that which the fathers of Chalcedon had approved. It was required that the edict should be subscribed by all bishops. Mennas signed it with the stipulation that he should be at liberty to retract his signature if the bishop of Rome should refuse to concur—a reservation of which he did not afterwards avail himself. The eastern bishops in general submitted, although the patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, with many others, showed much reluctance to subscribe; the few who refused were banished. But in Africa, where the old independent spirit of the church had been exercised in opposition to the temporal power during the century of Vandal oppression, the proposal met with a lively resistance. The African bishops protested against reopening questions which the council of Chalcedon had settled, or condemning persons who had died in the communion of the church; and a like disposition to resist was displayed in other quarters. The commotions rose to such a height that Ascidas is said to have afterwards owned that he himself, and the Roman deacon Pelagius, who had been concerned in bringing the Origenistic question under the emperor's notice, deserved to be burnt alive as the authors of them.

Vigilius, alarmed by these events and by the temper of his own clergy, refused to sign the edict, and was obliged by the emperor (who probably apprehended a new division between the eastern and western churches) to repair to Constantinople, where he was detained upwards of seven years. His legate Stephen, with other ecclesiastics of the west, who were then at Constantinople, had broken off communion with Mennas, on the ground that the patriarch ought not to have acted in the matter, except, as had been before agreed, in concert with the pope. Vigilius at first refused to communicate with Mennas, but was persuaded to an agreement with him by Theodora, who died in the year after the pope’s arrival; and he bound himself to Justinian by a secret written engagement to condemn the three articles—by which name the points in question as to Theodore, Theodoret, and Ibas were generally designated. The pope submitted the matter to a synod of seventy western bishops, which was held at Constantinople in 548; but as the African members steadily refused to lend themselves to his change of policy, it became evident that no favourable decision was to be obtained, and he broke up the assembly. Vigilius then endeavoured to gain the bishops individually, and sent forth a document known by the title of his Judicatum, in which he attempted to satisfy both parties—the Orientals, by condemning the three articles; the Latins, by professing that he did so without prejudice to the council of Chalcedon. But in the latter object he was utterly disappointed. An African synod, under Reparatus of Carthage, excommunicated him. The churches of Illyria and Dalmatia were roused to vehement opposition, and the commotion reached as far as Gaul and Scythia; even some of the pope’s own deacons, who had accompanied him to Constantinople, charged their master with an abandonment of the council of Chalcedon, and returned to agitate the west against him. Facundus, bishop of Hermiane, in Africa, who had distinguished himself in the council of Constantinople, addressed to the emperor in 549 an able and spirited defence of the three articles. He maintained the orthodoxy of Theodore of Mopsuestia; he argued that he, Theodoret, and Ibas, could not be condemned without impugning the council of Chalcedon, and doing away with its authority against Eutychianism; and he plainly desired the emperor to take warning from a comparison between those of his predecessors who had left the decision of theological questions to the bishops, and those who had ventured to arrogate it to themselves.

The only means to which Vigilius could now look for deliverance from the perplexity in which he found himself, between the emperor's wishes on the one hand and the determined opposition of his western brethren on the other, was a general council; he therefore proposed that such an assembly should be summoned, and withdrew his Judicatum until it should meet. Justinian assented; but, apprehending that the pope might perhaps attempt some evasion under shelter of the council, he bound him by fresh obligations, which were confirmed by an oath on the nails of the holy cross and on the Gospels, to exert all his power for the advancement of the imperial designs. When, however, the emperor also put forth a long and detailed profession of faith, which he required the pope and other bishops to sign, Vigilius refused, threatened to excommunicate those who should comply, and with Datius, archbishop of Milan, who was especially strenuous in his refusal, took refuge in a church. A praetor was sent with a guard to seize him. The pope placed himself under the altar, and, while the soldiers attempted to drag him out by his feet, his hair, and his beard, he clung so firmly to the pillars that some of them gave way, and the table would have fallen on him if some clerks had not supported it. On this the spectators of the scandalous scene broke forth into loud outcries, in which even some of the soldiers joined; and the praetor was shamed into desisting from his attempts Vigilius was induced by oaths of safety to leave the church, but, finding himself guarded by imperial soldiers in his lodging, he escaped with Datius and other companions by night to Chalcedon, and fled for sanctuary to the church of St. Euphemia—the same in which the general council had held its sessions exactly a century before. At length, after many overtures from the emperor, he was persuaded to return to Constantinople.

While Vigilius was in retirement at Chalcedon, the patriarch Mennas died, and the see of Constantinople was conferred on Eutychius, who had recommended himself to the emperor by discovering a scriptural precedent for the condemnation of deceased heterodox theologians —namely, the burning of the bones of idolaters by Josiah.

The fifth general council met at Constantinople in May 553. It was attended by a hundred and sixty-five bishops, including all the eastern patriarchs; but from the west there were only five African bishops. As the absence of Vigilius gave reason to apprehend a division in the church, he was repeatedly summoned, and was urgently requested by the other patriarchs to attend; but he obstinately refused—sometimes on the plea of illness, sometimes alleging that faith had not been kept with him in obtaining a fair representation of the western church. He sent to the emperor a paper signed by himself and sixteen other bishops, and designated by the title of Constitutum, in which he endeavoured to take a middle course, by condemning the writings which were in question, but without reflecting on the authors—even on Theodore of Mopsuestia. On this, Justinian caused the secret engagements which Vigilius had made with him to be laid before the council, and desired that the pope might be excluded from the diptychs—professing at the same time a wish to remain in communion with the Roman see; and the council acted accordingly. The three articles were condemned, and an anathema was pronounced against all who should defend them or should pretend that they were countenanced by the synod of Chalcedon. The memory of Theodoret and Ibas was spared; but Theodore was included in the same condemnation with his writings. The four earlier general councils were confirmed. The emperor's edicts relating to matters of religion were approved; but, except by this indirect implication, it does not appear that the opinions of Origen were censured or noticed.

Some months later, Vigilius—pressed by the censure of the council, frightened by the punishment of some who opposed it, and influenced also by the success of the arms of Narses, which had secured Italy to the emperor —made a humiliating submission to the decisions of the assembly, in which he ascribed his past difference of opinion to the craft of the devil; and he repeated this in a longer paper, withdrawing all his acts on the other side. The emperor then granted him permission to return to his see, and Vigilius set out for Rome; but on his way to the city, he died at Syracuse, on the 7th of June, 555. His archdeacon, Pelagius, succeeded him, through the influence of Justinian, who on this occasion for the first time assumed for the imperial crown the privilege of confirming the election; but—whether from the odium attached to him as a partaker in the late pope’s policy, or because (according to another account) he was suspected of having contributed to the sufferings and death of Vigilius—Pelagius could not find more than two bishops willing to consecrate him. It is said that, in order to dissipate the suspicions which were entertained against him, he ascended the pulpit of St. Peter’s, and swore on the Gospels and on the cross that he had had no share in causing the misfortunes of his predecessor.

Pelagius adhered to the late council, and, with the aid of Narses, enforced the acceptance of it by deprivation, banishment, and other penalties. But in the west—where the writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia were unknown, where the reliance of the Nestorians on his name was not actually seen, and could not beget a prejudice against him, where the condemnation of Theodoret and Ibas was chiefly regarded as endangering the authority of the council of Chalcedon— the decisions of the fifth council were very generally resisted, even by those who were subjects of the empire. The bishops of the Italian diocese separated from Rome on this account; and, although Milan and Ravenna were soon forced by the terror of the Lombard invasion to seek a reconciliation, the metropolitans of Aquileia, with the Istrian bishops, remained in separation for nearly a century and a half.

Among the variety of opinions which had sprung out of the monophysite controversy, was one broached by Julian of Halicarnassus, while a refugee at Alexandria in the reign of Justin. This teacher maintained that the Saviour’s body was incorruptible; that it was exempt from death, even as Adam’s body would have been, if he had retained his innocence that it was the same before as after the resurrection; that His hunger, thirst, weariness, and the like, did not necessarily arise from the constitution of His human nature, but were feelings to which He voluntarily subjected Himself. From their fancy of incorruptibility the followers of Julian were called Aphthartodocetae—a name which they retaliated on their opponents by that of Phthartolatrae (servants or worshippers of the corruptible). Justinian, in his extreme old age, fell into the opinions of Julian —probably through the influence of Theodore Ascidas; and in January 565 he published an edict asserting the aphthartodocetic doctrine, and required all bishops to subscribe it. Eutychius of Constantinople, who refused on the ground that it reduced the whole Incarnation to a mere appearance, was expelled for his contumacy. The eastern bishops for the most part professed that they would follow Anastasius of Antioch, whose character was held in general estimation; and this patriarch strongly maintained, with arguments from Scripture and from the belief of the church, that in all blameless affections the Saviour’s body was like to ours. Anastasius was preparing for deprivation, and had composed a farewell letter to his flock, when the proceedings against the orthodox were brought to an end by the death of the emperor, at the age of eighty.

Monophysitism, when discountenanced by the emperors, continued to exist in countries beyond their dominions, and also among the populations of Syria and Egypt.

The Armenians had been under the Persian yoke since the year 369. After a long resistance to attempts at enforcing the magian religion on them, they had been allowed to preserve their Christianity. But they were still liable to persecution; and whereas a community of religion had formerly obtained for them the alliance of the Romans, they found that a Christianity different from that authorized by the emperors was a recommendation to the favour of their new masters. Interest, therefore, concurred with other motives in leading them to the adoption of a monophysite creed. At the synod of Thwin or Dovin, in 596, the Armenian church condemned the council of Chalcedon, and to this day it holds the aphthartodocetic doctrine as to the body of our Lord.

In Syria, where the monophysite bishops and clergy had been removed by exile, imprisonment, and other means of persecution, a monk named Jacob undertook the enterprise of preserving his party from extinction. With this design, he sought out some monophysite prelates who were imprisoned at Constantinople, and received from them consecration as bishop of Edessa, with a commission of general superintendence over the interests of their cause throughout the east. In the dress of a beggar, from which he derived the name of Al Baradai (the ragged), he travelled indefatigably over Syria and Mesopotamia—secretly reviving the zeal of the monophysites, organizing them into a combined body, and ordaining bishops and clergy for them. At his death, in 578, he left a large and flourishing communion, under a head who laid claim to the patriarchal throne of Antioch; and, although much diminished in importance, the sect still continues to exist. From Jacob al Baradai the monophysites of other countries, as well as of those in which he had laboured, derived the name of Jacobites.

On the death of Timothy, patriarch of Alexandria, in 537, a furious contest for the see arose between the monophysite parties of corruptibilists and incorruptibilists. The government of Justinian supported the corruptibilist Theodosius, but, after having given him the victory over his rival, Gaian, set him aside in favour of an orthodox monk named Paul. Although, however, the catholic patriarch obtained possession of the establishment, the monks in general and the mass of the people were monophysites; and from Egypt the heresy was communicated to the daughter church of Abyssinia. The Catholics of Egypt were styled by their opponents Melchites (or imperialists); and an excited feeling of nationality was enlisted against the council of Chalcedon. In the course of the Alexandrian contests a great part of the city was burnt down, and they were attended by enormous bloodshed. It is said that at the installation of Apollinarius as patriarch, in 551, two hundred thousand persons were slain in one day;—a statement which, although doubtless exaggerated, must have had some frightful truth for its foundation. By these internal discords among the Christian parties of Egypt, the way was paved for the Saracen conquests of the following century.

 

 

CHAPTER VII.

SEMIPELAGIANISM.—MISSIONS.—DECLINE OF ARIANISM IN THE WEST.

 

 

It has been mentioned that the Semipelagian opinions became popular in Gaul, and that Augustine was induced by Prosper of Aquitaine and Hilary to write against them. The controversy was kept up with great zeal and activity by Prosper himself, who attacked the “Massilians” not only in treatises of the usual form, but in a poem of a thousand lines and in epigrams. In the year after Augustine’s death, Prosper and Hilary went to Rome for the purpose of soliciting Celestine to issue a condemnation of Semipelagianism; and, in consequence of this application, the bishop wrote a letter to his Gaulish brethren, in which, while he highly eulogized Augustine, he censured such persons as pursued unprofitable inquiries and introduced novelties of doctrine. These expressions, however, were capable of more than one application, and the Semipelagians did not fail to turn them against the advocates of the Augustinian system. The abbey of Lerins, founded in the beginning of the fifth century by Honoratus, afterwards archbishop of Arles, was a chief stronghold of Semipelagianism. Vincent, a celebrated monk of that society, was perhaps the author of a direct attack on the doctrines of Augustine; it has even been supposed that his Commonitory, which came to be regarded as the very rule of orthodoxy, was written with a covert intention of proscribing them by its well-known tests of truth—antiquity, universality, and consent.

Having failed to effect the suppression of Semipelagianism by authority, Prosper continued to combat it vigorously with his pen. Both he and those who followed him on the same side were careful to mitigate such parts of the Augustinian system as might seem to be subversive of the obligation to religious living, or inconsistent with the ideas of the divine love and justice. Some of these points Prosper attempted to exempt from discussion by referring them to the secret things of God. “God (he said) has chosen the whole world out of the whole world, and all men are adopted to be His children out of all mankind”. Every one who is rightly baptized receives forgiveness both of original and of actual sin; if such persons afterwards fall away to unbelief or ungodliness, they are condemned, not for their original sin, but for their own misdeeds—not through an irrespective reprobation, but because God foresaw that they would abuse their free-will. Predestination relates to such things only as are of God, and sin is not among these; we must not therefore say that He predestines to sin, but only that He predestines to punishment.

Semipelagianism still continued to prevail in Gaul. One of its most eminent champions was Faustus, a native either of Britain or of Brittany, who at the date of Vincent’s Commonitory was abbot of Lerins, and in 456 was raised to the bishopric of Riez. He was famous for strictness of life, and for a power of eloquence which his contemporary Sidonius Apollinaris, bishop of Clermont, extols in hyperbolical terms. After having vainly endeavoured to convince a presbyter named Lucidus, who held extreme predestinarian opinions, Faustus, about the year 475, brought him before a synod held at Arles, where Lucidus was obliged to retract many of his doctrines, and to acknowledge that both grace and human exertion are requisite for obedience to the Divine will. The synod commissioned Faustus to write a confutation of the errors of Lucidus and his party; and another synod, held at Lyons, requested him to make some additions to the work, which thus had an appearance of sanction from the church of Gaul. It opens with a refutation of the grosser tenets of Pelagianism, and then attacks the Augustinian system, which the writer charges with Antinomianism. Faustus, who had been banished by the Arian Euric, in 481, but recovered his see on that prince's death, three years later, died about 491-3, at a very advanced age. His memory was celebrated in his own country as that of a saint; but Avitus, bishop of Vienne, Caesarius, bishop of Arles, and Claudianus Mamertus, a presbyter of that city, wrote against his opinions; and soon after his death his writings were condemned by Pope Gelasius in a decretal epistle, which is memorable as containing the earliest Roman catalogue of forbidden books. The treatise of Faustus On Grace and Free-will, after a time found its way to Constantinople, where it excited much commotion among the brotherhood of Scythian monks.

These were already in correspondence with Caesarius, who held the see of Arles from 501 to 542, and was revered for the wisdom and charity which he displayed in the trying circumstances of his age and country, procured a condemnation of the Semipelagian tenets by the Gaulish bishops in a synod held at Orange in 529. In this judgment all that might startle or shock in the predestinarian doctrine was carefully avoided. The opinion of a predestination to sin and condemnation was rejected with abhorrence, and with the expression of a doubt whether it were really entertained by any one; while it was laid down that sufficient grace is bestowed on all the baptized—a doctrine incompatible with the notions of irresistible grace and absolute decrees. The decisions of Orange were soon after affirmed by another council at Valence, and in the year following they were ratified by Pope Boniface II. Thus, in so far as formal condemnation could reach, Semipelagianism was suppressed in the west. But the Conferences of its founder maintained their popularity, especially in the monasteries, and the opinions of Cassian were often really held where those of Augustine were professed.

The reigns of Justin the elder and Justinian witnessed the conversion of the Lazi, in Colchis, who thereupon forsook the Persian for the Roman alliance; of the Abasgi, near Mount Caucasus; and of the fierce nation of the Heruli, who had been allowed to cross the Danube in the time of Anastasius. The wild tribes about the river Don were also visited by missionaries. A powerful impression was made on the nomads of the east by Symeon the stylite and other ascetics whom they met with in the course of their wandering life; one Saracen chief was not only converted, but, having exchanged in baptism the name of Aspebethos for that of Peter, was consecrated to exercise a superintendence over his own and other tribes, under the title of “Bishop of the Camps”, and sat in the general council of Ephesus.

In some quarters the Catholics contended with the new sects in missionary exertion; but in the remoter regions the heretics were the more active. The monophysites, in addition to their gains in countries where orthodox Christianity had already been planted, converted Nubia from heathenism; while the preachers of Nestorianism found out new fields for their labour in the east. In the sixth century the Nestorian school of Nisibis was the only regular institution for the training of clergy. The sectaries who had been driven from the empire strengthened the kingdom of Persia by their immigration; their religious hostility to the Christianity of the emperors secured for them the countenance of the Persian monarchs; and Nestorianism was established as the only form of Christianity to be tolerated in Persia—thousands of Catholics and monophysites being slain for refusing to conform to it. Persian missionaries penetrated into the heart of Asia, and even into China, from which country two of them, in the reign of Justinian, introduced the silkworm into the Greek empire. Cosmas, a Nestorian of Egypt—originally a merchant and afterwards a monk, who from his expeditions into the east is known, by the name of Indicopleustes (the Indian voyager),—found Christians of his own communion, with bishops and clergy from Persia, in Ceylon, in Malabar, and elsewhere on the Indian coasts. As to Ceylon, however, he expressly states that the natives and their kings were still heathens; and on the whole it would seem that the Christianity of those regions extended as yet but little beyond the pale of the Persian commercial settlements.

There were religious wars between the Abyssinians and the Homerites or Hamyarites, a people of southern Arabia, who professed the Jewish faith; but the accounts of these wars are much embarrassed by inconsistencies and other difficulties.

In the west, the conquests of the Franks extended Christianity wherever they penetrated, and revived that which had been before planted in some districts—as, for example, along the course of the Rhine.

The religion of the western converts was too generally tainted both by their own barbarism and by the corruption of the worn-out nations with whose civilization they were brought into contact. Much of heathen superstition lingered in combination with Christianity; Gregory of Tours reports it as a popular saying in Spain, that “it is no harm if one who has to pass between heathen altars and God’s church should pay his respects to both”. Much vice was tolerated by the clergy, who, although their condition was highly prosperous, did not as yet feel themselves strong enough to check the passions of the great and powerful. The fate of Praetextatus, bishop of Rouen, who, in consequence of having offended the notorious Queen Fredegund, was stabbed in his cathedral at high mass on Easter-day, was a warning to such of his brethren as might be inclined to take a bolder line. The depravity of the Frankish princes, in particular, was frightful—perhaps even unparalleled in the records of history; and the tone which the bishop of Tours, although himself a good and pious man, employs in speaking of such characters, affords abundant proof that his own ideas were far from any high Christian standard. The evangelical principle of forgiveness for sin was abused to sanction licentiousness and atrocity. Fredegund, in instigating two of her servants to assassinate Sigebert, assured them that, if they lived, she would highly honour them, but if they perished in their attempt, she would give largely in alms for their souls; murderers were allowed to take sanctuary in churches, and might not be dragged out without an oath for the safety of their lives. Pretended miracles were wrought in vast numbers for the purpose of imposing on the credulous. Among the clergy themselves, from the bishops downwards, there was much of vice and even of crime; Fredegund, in one of her many murders, found two ecclesiastics to act for hire as the assassins. There was a natural tendency to rely on mere rites and outward pomp of worship; yet good men, such as Caesarius of Arles, were never wanting to assert the necessity of a really living faith and a thoroughly religious practice; and throughout all the evils of the time the beneficial effects of the gospel are to be traced in humane and civilizing legislation.

During the reign of Justinian’s successor, Justin II, Alboin, king of the Lombards, descended on Italy (563) with a host of adventurers collected from many nations and professing a variety of religions—heathenism, Arianism, and orthodox Christianity. The exarch Narses, who had been affronted by the emperor and superseded in his government, is supposed to have shared in inviting the Lombards, and, although he returned to his allegiance, death soon removed him from the path of the invaders. Justin was obliged to yield to them the north of Italy and a part of the centre; Pavia became the Lombard capital and about twenty years later the duchy of Beneventum was added to their territories. Arianism, which had been extirpated from Italy by the arms of Belisarius and Narses, was again introduced by the new conquerors : and it was among them that it remained latest as a national faith.

In Gaul, Arianism had given way to the progress of the Frankish power, which everywhere enforced orthodoxy by the sword. Clovis, as we have seen, made a zeal against heresy the pretext for his invasion of the Visigothic kingdom; and we are told that, when the walls of Angouleme had fallen down before him by miracle, he butchered the Gothic inhabitants for their misbelief. Sigismund, king of the Burgundians, who had become a convert to the catholic doctrine before his accession in 517, endeavoured, under the prudent guidance of Avitus, bishop of Vienne, to draw his subjects over after him, but among the Burgundians, as elsewhere, it was by the victory of the Franks that Arianism was suppressed. When the Gothic garrisons were withdrawn from the north of the Alps to encounter Belisarius in Italy, the Goths ceded Provence to the Franks; the cession was afterwards confirmed by Justinian, and thus the heresy was expelled from that region.

In Spain, the Suevi, under Theodomir, returned to the catholic faith about a century from the time when their forefathers abandoned it. Amalaric, grandson of the great Theodoric, who had succeeded to the Visigothic dominions in Spain, and in Gaul westward of the Rhone, married Clotilda, a daughter of Clovis, and endeavoured, by very violent means, to convert her to Arianism. Her brother Childebert, roused to indignation by receiving from her a handkerchief stained with her blood, as a proof of the treatment to which she was subjected by her husband, made war on Amalaric, defeated, and killed him. Under the next king of the Visigoths, Theudis, the Catholics enjoyed a free toleration, with the liberty of holding synods; and the same policy was followed by his successors, until the latter part of Leovigild’s reign. On the marriage of Hermenegild, son of this prince, with a daughter of Sigebert, king of the Austrasian Franks, the Gothic queen, Goswintha, who was grandmother to the young princess as well as step­mother to her husband, exercised great cruelty towards her in the attempt to seduce her from the orthodox faith. Hermenegild was banished from the court, and was soon after induced, by the persuasions of his wife, and of Leander, bishop of Seville, to become a catholic—a step which offended Leovigild, not only on religious grounds, but because there was room for apprehending political danger from the connexion into which the prince was thus brought with the catholic portion of his father's subjects. Hermenegild was consequently deprived of his share in the government. Supported by foreign princes of his new communion, he rebelled against his father; but the rebellion was suppressed, and Hermenegild, as he firmly refused to return to Arianism, and gave Leovigild reason to apprehend a renewal of his insurrection, was put to death. Leovigild had been provoked by his son's conduct to exercise severities against the Catholics. One of their bishops had apostatized, and had submitted to rebaptism; but the king, wishing to facilitate conversion to his heresy, had prevailed on an Arian council to acknowledge the baptism of the church. After the death of Hermenegild, he subdued the Suevi and united their kingdom to his own ; and both in the old and in the new portions of his dominions the Catholics were under persecution until his death in 586. His son Recared, who then succeeded to the throne, avowed himself a catholic—the persuasives to his change of belief being, as in many other cases of this age, partly of a miraculous kind. Conspiracies were set on foot against him by the widowed queen Goswintha, and others of the Arian party; but he succeeded in suppressing them, and a synod of seventy bishops, held at Toledo in 589, established the catholic faith among his people. Thus, at the end of the period embraced in this book, the Lombards were the only nation who continued to adhere to Arianism.

While the British church was pent up in the mountains, and Saxon heathenism overspread the rest of the land, the church of Ireland was in a very flourishing condition. Columba, an Irish abbot of royal descent, after having founded monasteries in the north of Ireland, set forth with twelve companions in the year 563,—in obedience (it is said) to the command of a hermit, who had charged him to expiate by a life of exile and of missionary labour the part which he had taken in the sanguinary feuds of his countrymen. It has been supposed that he was invited into Scotland by Conall, king of the Dalriads, who was his kinsman; and in addition to gaining an influence over that prince and his successor Aidan, whose title he confirmed by a solemn coronation, he converted Brud, king of the northern Picts, whom he visited at his castle near Inverness. For thirty-four years Columba laboured indefatigably, both on the mainland and in the Hebrides, occasionally revisiting his native land, which he had never ceased to regard with passionate regret. His chief residence was in the island of Hy (afterwards called from him Icolumbkille or Iona), where he established a monastery which was long famous as a seat of religion and learning, and became the nursery of clergy whose labours extended not only over Scotland, but far into the southern division of Britain, and northwards to the Orkneys and the islands beyond—perhaps even to Iceland. The abbots of Hy were at the head of a great society which had its monasteries both in Scotland and in Ireland; and out of respect for the memory of the founder, who had himself been only a presbyter, even the bishops of the district, by what Bede terms an “unusual arrangement”, were in some respects subject to them. Columba died at the age of seventy-six, in 597, the same year in which the Roman mission for the conversion of the English landed in the Isle of Thanet.

The British churches, in consequence of their remoteness and of the want of communication with Rome, retained some peculiarities which afterwards became subjects of controversy. Among these was the time of observing Easter; but although, like the quartodecimans of Asia, the Britons professed to derive their practice from St. John, they were not quartodecimans, inasmuch as they always celebrated the festival on a Sunday. British bishops had sat (as we have seen) in the council of Arles, and had doubtless concurred in its approval of the Roman rule as to Easter. Constantine, in his letter written after the Nicene council, had spoken of “the Britains” as agreeing with other countries in the paschal reckoning of Rome; and it is recorded that in the year 453 the British church conformed to an order of Leo the Great on this subject. It would seem, in truth, that the difference which is found at a somewhat later time between the British and the Roman usages arose from an adherence of the British to the earlier cycle of the Roman church itself, which had in the meantime been superseded at Rome by other and more accurate calculations.

 

CHAPTER VIII.

SUPPLEMENTARY.

 

 

During the period between the council of Chalcedon and the end of the sixth century, the influence of Alexandria and of Antioch declined. Such was the natural result of the differences by which those churches were distracted— with the frequent and bloody conflicts of their factions—the forcible expulsions and installations of bishops, who, instead of being shepherds over the whole community, could only be the chiefs of parties—and the variations of doctrine and policy between the successive occupants of the sees. In the meanwhile, Constantinople was advancing in authority and importance. The council of Chalcedon had conferred on it a right of receiving appeals from bishops or clerks against their metropolitans. By the help of Zeno, the patriarchs of Constantinople finally reduced the exarchate of Ephesus to subjection; and the deprivations of Alexandria and Antioch gave them repeated opportunities of exercising an apparent superiority over those elder churches, by consecrating patriarchs for them, and otherwise interfering in their concerns. The argument for the precedence of Rome, in so far as it was founded on the dignity of the ancient capital—(the only foundation of it which the east had ever acknowledged) —fell with the western empire. It has been supposed that Acacius conceived the idea of raising his see above Rome; and it seems at least probable that Constantinople might have successfully rivalled the power of the great western church, had not its bishops been placed at a disadvantage in consequence of their dependence on the court, and weakened by their quarrels with the emperors.

The bishops of Rome, as before, pursued in the main a steady course. They were still on the orthodox and victorious side in the controversies of the time; and thus their reputation and influence grew. They were invoked and courted by the various parties in the eastern disputes; the emperors themselves found their account in conciliating the bishops of Rome and using them as a check on the patriarchs of Constantinople. The wealth of the Roman see was increased by the acquisition of great estates, not only in Italy, but in other countries; and hence, in addition to gaining the natural influence of riches, the bishops were able, by means of the agents employed in the management of their lands, to keep a watchful eye on the ecclesiastical affairs of distant provinces, and to exercise a frequent interference in them. Even the heresy of the barbarians who overran the west was in its effects favourable to the power of the Roman see, inasmuch as, by everywhere presenting the same enemy, it tended to force the Catholics into combination and centralization, and prevented the breaking up of the church into separate nationalities.

In Italy the title of pope was now usually appropriated to the bishop of Rome, although in other countries of the west it continued to be bestowed on bishops in general until the time of Gregory VII. In eastern usage, it was commonly restricted to the bishops of Rome and Alexandria. Titles of more imposing sound, such as that of “ecumenical bishop”, were sometimes applied to the bishops of Rome,—chiefly by persons whose interest it was to flatter them; the first instance of this kind was at the council of Chalcedon, where the Alexandrian complainants against Dioscorus, wishing to enlist the Roman legates in their cause, styled Leo “ecumenical archbishop, and patriarch of the great Rome”. But such titles—originating among Orientals, and in the inflation of oriental language—were not intended to be understood in that exclusive sense which the words might naturally convey to our minds. Thus the style of “ecumenical patriarch” was assumed by the bishops of Constantinople, who yet made no pretensions to dominion over the western church. And it was not supposed that there was any incompatibility between the titles, when, at the council under Mennas, which condemned the opinions of Origen, the bishops of Rome and Constantinople were each styled “archbishop and ecumenical patriarch”; or when Justinian addressed each of them as “head of all the churches”.

The Roman bishops extended their claims of jurisdiction—sometimes resting them on canons and imperial edicts, but more frequently on privileges alleged to be derived from St. Peter—with whom, however, St. Paul, the companion of his martyrdom and apostle of the gentiles, was still joined as having contributed to the foundation of the claim.

In the west, disputes which arose between bishops as to precedence and jurisdiction occasioned a frequent recourse to Rome, and advanced the idea of a supreme judicial authority in that see—the more so, because the contending parties were often subjects of different governments. A like effect followed from the applications which churches became accustomed to make to Rome for advice in cases of difficulty. These applications drew forth decretal epistles by way of answer; the applicants were glad to be assured that the substance of such replies was of apostolical tradition and of universal authority; and the pope came to be regarded as a general dictator in matters of this kind. About the middle of the sixth century, Dionysius Exiguus, a Roman monk of Scythian birth, collected the canons of the general and of the chief provincial councils, translating those which were in Greek, and including with them the decretal epistles of the Roman bishops, from Siricius downwards. The work became a standard of ecclesiastical law in the west; and it contributed largely to heighten the authority of the see whose decisions and advices were thus apparently placed on a level with the decrees of the most venerated councils.

Although, however, the Roman bishops not only became the highest judges of ecclesiastical matters in the west, but also claimed a right of watching over the faith of the whole church, the idea of a proper supremacy, such as that which was asserted in later times, was as yet unknown. The bishops of Rome still admitted those of the other great “apostolical” churches—Alexandria and Antioch—to be of the same grade with themselves. They did not pretend to be of a superior order to other bishops; nor did they claim a right of interfering with any diocese, except in case of the bishop's misconduct.

The relations of the Roman bishops with the civil power varied according to the political changes of the times. At the election of a successor to Simplicius, in the year 483, Basil, an officer of Odoacer, appeared, and, professing to act in accordance with advice given by the late pope to his master, expressed the king’s surprise that such a matter had been undertaken without obtaining the royal license; he also proposed a regulation that no bishop of Rome should alienate any property belonging to the see, under pain of excommunication both for himself and for the purchaser. The result is not recorded; but there can hardly be a doubt that the barbarian king’s emissary had an important influence on the choice of the new bishop.

Theodoric, in the earlier part of his reign, allowed the church a great liberty of self-regulation—considering that the schism which divided Rome from Constantinople secured him against any danger from correspondence between the clergy of his own dominions and their eastern brethren. On the death of Anastasius II, in 498, a violent contest for the pontificate took place between Symmachus and Laurence. The Arian king did not interfere until the matter was brought before him at Ravenna by the parties, when he decided that the see thould belong to that bishop who had been first consecrated and had the larger number of adherents; and Symmachus was consequently established. In 502 this bishop held a synod, by which the interference of Basil at the election after the death of Simplicius was indignantly reprobated as an unwarrantable encroachment on the part of the laity. Theodoric allowed the censure to pass without notice—being probably not unwilling to permit an attack on the memory of his rival, even at the expense of failing to assert the claims of the crown. In the following year, at the request of the partisans of Laurence, who had again made head, Theodoric appointed the bishop of Altino to act as “visitor” of the Roman church. The commissioner behaved (it is said) in an arbitrary and grossly partial manner, so as greatly to irritate the adherents of Symmachus. For the investigation of some serious charges which had been brought against Symmachus, Theodoric summoned a council of Italian bishops, which, from the place of its meeting at Rome, is known as the Synod of the Palm; and this assembly, after severely censuring the appointment of a visitor as an unwarranted novelty, pronounced Symmachus innocent, in so far as man's decision was concerned, and declared that, on account of certain specified difficulties, the case was left to the Divine judgment alone. The proposition which has been erroneously inferred from this as the opinion of the council—that the pope was exempt from all earthly judgment—was soon after maintained by Ennodius, bishop of Ticinum (Pavia), a partisan of Symmachus; and for the confirmation of the new pretension, acts of earlier popes were forged in a strain utterly contradictory to genuine older documents, such as the letters which had been addressed by the Roman clergy to the emperor Gratian.

On the renewal of intercourse between Rome and Constantinople, Theodoric, as we have seen, began to watch the church with a jealousy very opposite to the spirit of his earlier system. The mission of Pope John to Constantinople, with its consequences, has been related in a former chapter. Theodoric, in the month before his own death, nominated the successor of John, Felix IV, and during the remaining time of the Gothic rule in Italy the kings controlled the election of the popes.

Justinian, in his eastern dominions, aimed at reducing the bishops to a greater dependence on the court; and, as this policy was accompanied by professions of great reverence for them, with an increase of their dignities and privileges in some respects, the Greeks submitted to it without reluctance. The emperor not only interfered much in regulations as to matters of discipline, even the most important, but carried out largely the example first set by Basiliscus, of determining points of faith by edicts. His mandates in ecclesiastical matters were published by the agency of patriarchs, metropolitans, and bishops, in like manner as his edicts on secular subjects were issued through the various grades of lay officials. He attempted, without the sanction of a general council, to erect a sixth patriarchate, by bestowing on the bishop of his native place, Justiniana Prima or Lychnidus (Achrida), in Illyricum, a wide Jurisdiction, with privileges which were intended to be modelled on those of Rome. But the attempt proved abortive; the new patriarchs never obtained effectual acknowledgment of their pretensions, and, soon after the death of Justinian, the bishops of Lychnidus are found among those subject to the see of Rome.

On the conquest of Italy, Justinian began to deal with the bishops of Rome as he had dealt with those of Constantinople. He addressed them in flattering titles, and aimed at reducing them to the condition of tools. He made new and stringent regulations as to the confirmation of the pope by the civil power. According to the Liber Diurnus (a collection of forms which represents the state of things in those days, or shortly after) the death of a Roman bishop was to be notified to the exarch of Ravenna; the successor was to be chosen by the clergy, the nobles of Rome, the soldiery, and the citizens; and the ratification of the election was to be requested in very submissive terms, both of the emperor and of his deputy the exarch. The share which the laity had from early times enjoyed in the choice of bishops generally, was restricted by a law of Justinian, which ordered that the election should be made by the clergy and principal inhabitants of each city, to the exclusion of the great mass of the people, whose disorderly behaviour had too often afforded a pretext for the change.

The proceedings of Vigilius in the controversy as to the Three Articles —the humiliations which he endured—his vacillations, so utterly contradictory to the later Roman pretensions—tended to lower the dignity and reputation of his see; and it was greatly weakened by the schism of Aquileia and other provinces. But, on the other hand, the Lombard invasion, in 568, had the effect of increasing the political power of the popes, as they were obliged, in virtue of their extensive property, to take a prominent part in the measures adopted for self-defence by the inhabitants of such portions of Italy as still belonged to the empire; while their services were requited by the emperors with the power of appointing to many offices, and with other civil privileges.

 

Condition of the Clergy. 

 

In the course of the fifth and sixth centuries, a growing opinion as to the obligation of celibacy on the clergy had the effect of separating them more and more widely from other Christians. No general council ventured to prohibit the marriage of the clergy; that of Chalcedon assumes the existence of prohibitions, but does not itself lay down any such law with a view of binding the whole church. But local councils were continually occupied with the subject, and the bishops of Rome were steady in advancing the cause of celibacy. The general aim of the canons enacted during this time was to prevent clerical marriage altogether, if possible; to extend the prohibition to the inferior grades of the ministry; to debar the married from higher promotion; to prevent such clerks as were allowed to marry once from entering into a second union; to limit their choice to women who had never been married; to separate the married clergy from their wives, or, if they lived together, to restrain them from conjugal intercourse. These regulations belong chiefly to the western church—a greater liberty being apparently allowed in the east. But, as has been remarked in a former period, the frequency of such canons is itself a proof how imperfectly they were able to make way; and very many cases are recorded which show that the enforcement of them was found impracticable, and that a variety of usages in different places was largely tolerated. Thus Lupus, bishop of Troyes, and Euphronius of Autun, while mentioning the restraints which they placed on the marriage of ostiaries, exorcists, and subdeacons, are obliged to content themselves with saying as to the higher grades, to which the canons forbade marriage, that they endeavoured to avoid raising to them persons engaged in that state, or to enforce separation between the married clergy and their wives. And a witness of a more unfavourable kind to the resistance which such laws met with, is found in the fact that, in proportion as celibacy was enforced on the clergy, it became the more necessary to enact canons prohibiting them to entertain concubines or other '”extraneous” female companions.

The marriage of the clergy is now the subject not only of canons, but of imperial laws. Honorius, in 420—perhaps at the suggestion of Boniface, bishop of Rome—enacted, in accordance with the Nicene canon, that the clergy should not have as inmates of their houses any women except their own nearest relatives; but it was allowed that such of the clergy as had married before ordination should retain their wives; “for” it was said, “those are not unfitly joined to clerks who have, by their conversation, made their husbands worthy of the priesthood”. A century later, Justinian, by several enactments, forbade the promotion of persons who had children or grandchildren to bishoprics, on the ground that such connexions were a temptation to prefer the interests of kindred to those of the church; he confirmed all the ecclesiastical prohibitions of clerical marriage, and declared the issue of such marriages illegitimate, and incapable of inheriting property.

The privileges of the clergy in general were on the increase. Their immunities were confirmed and enlarged; the tendency of legislation was to encourage the bestowal of riches on the church, and to secure to it the permanent possession of all that had been acquired. The idea of expiating sin by money, and especially by liberality to the church, was now put forth more broadly than before; and it found the readier entrance among the Teutonic tribes from the circumstance that the system of compensating for crimes by fines had prevailed among them before their conversion. Laws and canons were often found necessary to check the practice of obtaining ordination or spiritual dignities by money.

While the judgment of ecclesiastical matters belonged exclusively to the spiritual courts, the bishops had cognizance also of secular causes in which the clergy were concerned, although in these causes the parties were at liberty either to resort in the first instance to a secular tribunal, or to appeal from the bishop to the lay judge, whose sentence, if contrary to that of the bishop, might become the subject of a further appeal.

In criminal cases, the clergy were exempted from the jurisdiction of lay tribunals for slight offences, although it seems to be doubtful how far this exemption practically extended. Honorius, in 407, at the request of African councils, appointed lay “defenders” (defensores) of the church, whose business it was to watch over its privileges and to maintain its rights, so that the clergy should not be obliged to appear personally in secular courts. Justinian enacted that bishops should not be required to give evidence in courts; certain officers were appointed to wait on them for the purpose of taking their depositions, which were not to be made on oath, but on their mere word, with the Gospels lying before them. The bishops were charged with an oversight of prisoners, lunatics, minors, foundlings, and other helpless persons, and were furnished with the powers necessary for the exercise of it. They were also charged with a general supervision of public morals—thus, for example, it was their duty to check the practice of gaming. They were, in conjunction with the civil magistrates, to manage the appointment of the subordinate officers of government, and were, with the principal inhabitants of each city, to superintend public works, buildings, and establishments, as also the administration of the local revenues. They were to see that the civil governors and judges did their duty, while the governors in turn were to take care that the bishops should hold synods regularly, and should not alienate the property of the church; but whereas the prefect was not authorised to do more than admonish a bishop of his neglect, and, in case of his persevering in it, to report the matter to the emperor, the bishop had in some circumstances a right to supersede the prefect in his functions. The consequence of such regulations was, that the bishops advanced in political influence, and became more entangled in secular business; and that, agreeably to the object of Justinian's policy, they were reduced into a greater dependence on the emperor by becoming officers of the state.

The patronage of the churches in every diocese originally belonged to the bishop. The earliest exception to this rule was made by the first council of Orange, in 441, which enacted that where a bishop, for some special reason, had built a church within the diocese of another, he should, in consideration of his bounty, be allowed to appoint the incumbent. This privilege was extended to the laity in general by a law of Justinian, which enacted that anyone who should found a church, and should endow it with a maintenance for a clerk, might nominate a person who should be ordained to it. The bishops, however, were at liberty in such cases to refuse ordination, if the individual presented were unfit.

The power of the clergy in the west survived the system under which it had grown up. During the barbarian invasions, they often stood forward, and with effect, to intercede for their flocks. The conquerors found them established as a body important on account of their secular influence, as well as of the sacred nature of their functions. On the settlement of the new kingdoms, the church mediated between the victorious and the vanquished; it held up before the rude barbarians the idea of a law higher than human law—of a moral power superior to force—of a controlling and vindicating Providence. Few of the conquering race were disposed to enter into the ranks of the clergy; their ordination, indeed, was not allowed without the leave of the sove­reign, lest the nation should be deprived of its warriors. The ministry of the church, unlike other paths to distinction, was open to the ability of the subjugated people, and through it they acquired a powerful influence over their conquerors. The clergy were the sole possessors of learning; they were the agents of civilization, the reformers of law, the authorized protectors of the weak; they superintended the administration of justice; they were often employed as envoys and peacemakers between princes. Some had the reputation of miracles; others were venerable and formidable as holding the possession of miraculous shrines—such as that of St Martin at Tours. Riches flowed in on them; tithes were enforced by canons, and large donations of land—a kind of property which increased in value as the people advanced in civilization—were bestowed on them. In order to secure the influence of bishops and abbots, kings endowed their churches and monasteries with estates, to which the usual obligation of military service was attached, and in no long time some of the ecclesiastical holders began to discharge such duties in their own persons. Gregory of Tours mentions with horror the warlike achievements of two brothers belonging to the episcopal order, Salonius and Sagittarius; but the feeling of the indecency of such things was gradually blunted among the Franks. The political importance and the territorial wealth of the bishops gave them the rank of counsellors to the sovereign; and in that character their abilities and knowledge often won for them an influence exceeding that of all others. Hence in France a system of mixed ecclesiastical and secular councils grew up, which for a time superseded the purely spiritual synods.. Thus while the bishops gained in secular power, the metropolitan jurisdiction was weakened by the disuse of the ancient provincial assemblies, as well as by the circumstance that, in the new partition of the country, the province of a metropolitan might be divided between different kingdoms ;b and the king came to be regarded as the highest judge in ecclesiastical affairs as well as in others.

The clergy, like the other Romanized subjects of the Frankish monarchy, continued to be governed by the Roman law. They retained all the privileges which it had conferred on them, and, as the conquerors were themselves ignorant of it, the bishops had a large share in the administration of the law among the Roman population in general. As the bishops rose, the other clergy, being of the conquered races, sank in relative position. Ordination, indeed, was regarded as emancipating them; but while priests to the laity, they were serfs to the bishops. The old relation of the bishop and his council disappears. The prelates treated their subject clergy with great rudeness, and their power over them became more despotic as the decay of metropolitans and the cessation of provincial synods deprived the clergy of all power of appeal except to the sovereign; canons of the time enact bodily chastisement as the penalty for some ecclesiastical offences, while other canons were found necessary to restrain the bishops from beating their clerks at pleasure. The clergy sometimes attempted to protect themselves by combining against their superiors; and such combinations are repeatedly forbidden by councils. The rude princes of Gaul often behaved with lawless violence in ecclesiastical affairs. The prerogative which Clovis had acquired by his merits towards the church was increased by his successors. The influence which the eastern emperors had exercised in appointments to the greater sees, and to the bishoprics of the cities which were places of imperial residence, was extended by the Frank sovereigns to all sees; it would seem that the vacancy of a bishopric or of an archbishopric was notified to the king, that his license was required before an election, and his confirmation after it. Councils repeatedly enacted that bishops should not be appointed until after election by the clergy and people, and with the consent of the metropolitan; but the election was often rendered an empty form by a royal nomination, and kings often took it on themselves to appoint and to depose bishops by their own sole power,—an usurpation which was facilitated by the connexion with the crown into which bishops were brought by the tenure of their estates. In such cases the royal patronage was often obtained by simony or other unworthy means, and was bestowed on persons scandalously unfit for the office; while the change in the manner of appointment combined with other influences to widen the separation between the bishops and the other clergy. The license of the sovereign, which under the empire was required for general councils only, was in Gaul necessary for all; the kings composed the councils at their own will, from larger or smaller districts, of a greater or less number of bishops, and with such mixture of laymen as they pleased; and not content with this, they made many regulations by their own authority in matters concerning religion. The wealth of the clergy soon attracted their cupidity, and they endeavoured to get a part of it into their own hands by heavy taxation or by forcible acts of rapacity; but on such occasions, it is said, the property of the church was protected by the judicial infliction of sickness, death, or calamity on her assailants; and by tales and threats of such judgments the clergy were often able to ward off aggression.

 

Monasticism. 

 

Monachism continued to increase in popularity during the fifth and sixth centuries: but when a system founded on a profession of rigour becomes popular, its corruption may be safely inferred. We have seen how in the controversies of the east the monks held all parties in terror—wielding a vast influence by their numbers and their fanatical rage. Justinian made several enactments in favour of monachism—as, for example, that married persons might embrace the monastic life without the consent of their partners, children without the leave of parents, and slaves without that of their masters. Monks more and more acquired the character of clergy, although it was usual in monastic societies that only so many of the members should be ordained as were necessary for the performance of religious offices, and some monasteries were even without any resident presbyter. Leo the Great forbids monks to preach, or to intermeddle with other clerical functions; and other prohibitions to the same effect are found. As, however, the monks had a greater popular reputation for holiness than the clergy, and consequently a greater influence over the people, it was the interest of the clergy rather to court than to oppose them.

The council of Chalcedon enacted that monasteries should be strictly under the control of the bishops in whose dioceses they were situated, and that no one should found a monastery without the bishop’s consent; and orders of a like purport are found both among the canons of other councils and among laws of the emperor Justinian. The first country in which this principle was violated was Africa, where, about the year 520, many monastic societies, passing over the local bishops, placed themselves under the primate of Carthage or other distant prelates. Throughout the other countries of the west, the local bishop still had the superintendence of monasteries—in so far, at least, as the abbots and the clerical members were concerned, although some canons prevented his interference in the relations between the head and the lay brethren.

The revolutions of the west were favourable to monasticism. Monks, both by their numbers and by their profession of especial sanctity, impressed the barbarian conquerors. Their abodes, therefore, became a secure retreat from the troubles of the time; they were honoured and respected, and wealth was largely bestowed on them. But where the monastic profession was sought by many for reasons very different from those which its founders had contemplated—for the sake of a safe and tranquil life rather than for penitence or religious perfection—a strong tendency to degeneracy was naturally soon manifested. And thus in the earlier part of the sixth century there was room for the labours of a reformer.

Benedict, the great legislator of western monachism, was born near Nursia (now Norcia), in the duchy of Spoleto, about the year 480, and at the age of twelve was sent to study at Rome; but in disgust at the irregularities of his fellow-students he fled from the city at fourteen, and, separating himself even from his nurse, who had attended him, he lived for three years in a cave near Subiaco. The only person acquainted with the secret of his retreat was a monk named Romanus, who, having seen him in his flight, was led to take an interest in him; he furnished the young recluse with a monastic habit, and saved from his own conventual allowance of bread a quantity sufficient for his support, conveying it to him, on certain days, by a string let down to the mouth of the cave. At length Benedict was discovered by some shepherds; he instructed them and others who resorted to him, and performed a number of miracles. In consequence of the fame which he had now attained, he was chosen abbot of a monastery in the neighbourhood; but his attempt at a reformation provoked its inmates, who, in order to rid themselves of him, mixed poison with his drink. On his making the customary sign of the cross, the cup flew to pieces; whereupon he mildly reminded the monks that he had warned them against electing a person of character and habits so unlike their own, and returned to his solitude. His renown gradually spread; great multitudes flocked to him, and even some members of the Roman nobility entrusted their children to him for education; he built twelve monasteries, each for an abbot and twelve monks. But finding himself disquieted by the persevering malignity of a priest named Florentius, who out of envy attempted to destroy him by calumny and by poison, he quitted Subiaco, with a few chosen companions, in the year 528. After some wanderings, he arrived at Monte Cassino, where, on a lofty height overlooking the wide valley of the Liris, Apollo was still worshipped by the rustics, and a grove sacred to the pagan deities continued to be held in reverence. The devil attempted to check him by various prodigies; but Benedict triumphed over such obstacles, cut down the grove, destroyed the idol of Apollo, and on the site of the altar erected an oratory dedicated to St. John the Evangelist and St. Martin—the germ of the great and renowned monastery which became the mother of all the societies of the west. Here he drew up his ‘Rule’ about the year 529—the same year in which the schools of Athens were suppressed, and in which the Semipelagian doctrine was condemned by the council of Orange.

The severity of earlier rules—fitted as they were for the eastern regions in which monachism had originated, rather than for those of the west into which it had made its way—had become a pretext for a general relaxation of discipline throughout the western monasteries, while, on the other hand, it had given occasion for much hypocritical pretension. Benedict, therefore, in consideration of this, intended his code to be of a milder and more practical kind—suited for European constitutions, and variable in many respects according to the climate of the different countries into which it might be introduced.

Every Benedictine monastery was to be under an abbot, chosen by the monks and approved by the bishop. The brethren were to regard their head as standing in the place of Christ, and were therefore to yield him an obedience ready, cheerful, and entire; while the founder was careful to impress on the abbots a feeling of responsibility for the authority committed to them, and the duty of moderation in the exercise of it. The monks were to address the abbot by the title Dominus; in speaking to each other they were not to mention the names of the individuals, but were to use the titles of father (nonnus), or brother, according to their relative age; the younger were to make way for their elders, to rise up to them, to resign their seats to them, to ask their blessing, and to stand in their presence, unless permitted by the seniors to sit down. Such priests or other clergymen as might be in a monastery, whether specially ordained for its service or admitted at their own request, were not to claim any precedence on account of their orders, and were to be subject to the abbot, like the other brethren. Next in order to the abbot, there might be a prior or provost (propositus); but as, in some monastic societies, where the prior was appointed by the bishop, he assumed an air of independence towards the abbot, the Benedictine provost was to be chosen by the abbot, and was to be subject to him in all things. Benedict, however, preferred that, instead of a prior, the abbot should be assisted in his government by elders or deans (decani). With these he was to consult on ordinary occasions, while for important matters he was to take counsel with the whole community.

Parents might devote their children to the monastic life. Candidates for admission into the order were required to submit to probation for a year, in the course of which the Rule was thrice read over to them, and they were questioned as to their resolution to abide by it. At their reception they laid on the altar a written vow of steadfastness, amendment, and obedience, which those who were unable to write signed with their mark. The first of these articles was an important novelty; for whereas formerly, although persons who forsook the monastic for the married state were liable to censures and penance, their marriage was yet allowed to continue, the introduction of the Benedictine rule led to the practice of forcibly separating monks who married from their wives, and dragging them back to their monasteries. All the property of the novice, if not already distributed to the poor, was to be given to the monastery, and a strict community of goods was to be observed by the monks. Their beds were to be often searched, and, if any one were found to have secreted anything as his peculiar property, he was to be punished; nor were presents or letters to be received, even from the nearest relation, without permission of the abbot, who was authorized, at his own pleasure, to transfer any gift to some other person than the one for whom it was intended.

A distinctive feature of the Benedictine system was the provision of ample occupation for the monks,—especially of manual labour, which in the western monasteries had as yet been little practised. They were to rise for matins at two hours after midnight to attend eight services daily, or, if at a distance from the monastery, to observe the hours of the services and they were to work seven hours. The whole Psalter was to be recited every week in the course of the services. Portions of time were assigned for committing psalms to memory, for the study of Scripture, and for reading Cassian’s Conferences, lives of saints, and other devout and edifying books. At meals, a book was to be read aloud, but no conversation was to be held; and in general there was to be little talk. Each monk, except the cellarer, and those who were engaged in “greater duties”, was required to act as cook in turn, for a week at a time. At dinner there were to be two sorts of cooked pulmentaria, “that they who cannot eat of the one” (said Benedict) “may perchance be refreshed by the other”. These pulmentaria included grain and vegetables dressed in various ways; some authorities extend the word to eggs, fish, and even to birds, inasmuch as four-footed beasts are only specified as forbidden. A third dish, of uncooked fruit or salad, might be added where such things were to be had. Each monk was allowed a small measure of wine; because (as Benedict remarked), although monks ought not to taste wine, it had been found impossible to enforce such a rule. A pound of bread was the usual daily allowance; but all such matters were to be arranged at the discretion of the abbot, according to the climate and the season, the age, the health, and the employment of the monks. Flesh was forbidden, except to the sick, who, while they were to be carefully tended, were required to consider that such service was bestowed on them for God’s sake, and not in order that they might be encouraged in “superfluity”. Hospitality was enjoined towards strangers, and especially towards the poor, “because in them Christ is more especially received”; even the abbot himself was required to share in washing the feet of guests. The dress of the monks was to be coarse and plain, but might be varied according to circumstances. They were to sleep by ten or twelve in a room, each in a separate bed, with their clothes and girdles on. A dean was to preside over each dormitory, and a light was to be kept burning in each. No talking was allowed after compline—the last service of the day.

The monks were never to go out without permission, and those who had been sent out on business were forbidden to distract their brethren by relating their adventures on their return. In order that there might be little necessity for leaving the monastery, it was to contain within its precincts the garden, the mill, the well, the bakehouse, and other requisite appurtenances. The occupation of every monk was to be determined by the abbot; if any one were disposed to pride himself on his skill in any art or handicraft, he was to be forbidden to practise it. Monks were to sell the productions of their labour at a lower price than other men—a regulation by which Benedict intended to guard against the appearance of covetousness, without, probably, considering how it might interfere with the fair profit of secular persons, who depended on their trades for a livelihood.

In punishments, the abbot was directed to employ words or bodily chastisement, according to the character of the culprit. For the lighter offences the monks were punished by being excluded from the common table, and obliged to take their meals at a later hour, or by being forbidden to take certain parts in the service of the chapel; while those who had been guilty of heavier transgressions were entirely separated from their brethren, and were committed to a seclusion in which they were visited by the most venerable members of the society, with a view to their consolation and amendment.

Gregory the Great, in his account of Benedict, ascribes to him a multitude of miracles and prophecies. Among other things, it is related that the Gothic king Totila, wishing to have an interview with the saint, made trial of his penetration by sending to him an officer dressed in the royal robes; but that Benedict discovered the device, and afterwards foretold to Totila the course of his successes, with his eventual ruin.

Before the death of the founder, which took place in 543, the Benedictine system had been established in Gaul, Spain, and Sicily, and in no long time it absorbed all the monachism of the west—being the first example of a great community spread through various countries and subject to one rule, although without that organised unity which marked the monastic orders of later times. Its ramifications were multiplied under a variety of names; and, although precluded by their vow of obedience from altering their rule, the later Benedictines were able, by means of a distinction between the essential and the accidental parts of it, to find pretexts for a departure in many respects from the rigour of the original constitutions. In addition to the spiritual discipline which was the primary object of their institution, the monks employed themselves in labours which were greatly beneficial to mankind. They cleared forests, made roads, reduced wastes into fertility by tillage, and imparted the science of agriculture to the barbarians; they civilized rude populations, and extirpated the remains of heathenism. Although St. Benedict had not contemplated the cultivation of learning in his monasteries—an object which was first recommended to monks by his contemporary Cassiodore —it was found to agree well with the regular distribution of time which was a characteristic of the system. During the troubled centuries which followed, learning found a refuge in the Benedictine cloisters; the monks transcribed the works of classical and Christian antiquity, and were the chief instruments of preserving them. They taught the young; they chronicled the events of their times ; and, in later ages, the learning and industry of this noble order have rendered inestimable services to literature.

 

Rites and Usages

 

In matters connected with worship, the tendencies of the fourth century were more fully carried out during the two which followed, by the multiplication and the increased splendour of ceremonies, the gorgeous and costly decoration of churches, and the addition of new festivals

The reverence paid to saints rose higher; their intercession and protection were entreated, their relics were eagerly sought after, and extravagant stories were told of miracles wrought not only by such relics themselves, but by cloths which had touched them, and by water in which they had been dipped. Churches were dedicated to saints and angels; whereas there had originally been only one altar in every church, additional altars in honour of the saints were now erected in the churches of the west; and, although the preachers of the time were careful to distinguish between the honour paid to saints and that which belongs to God alone, some of them openly avowed that the saints and their days held in the Christian system a like place to that which had formerly been assigned to the gods of paganism and to their festivals. The presbytery of churches was elevated by the construction of a crypt, of which the upper part rose above the level of the nave, with a grating in front, through which was seen the tomb of the patron saint. In praying to the saints, as formerly to the heathen deities, it was usual for their votaries to promise that, if they would grant the petitions addressed to them, their altars should be richly adorned, and candles should be burnt in their honour; but to threaten that otherwise the altars should be stripped and the lights extinguished. Sometimes, it is said that threats of this kind were the means of obtaining miraculous aid; although, if no such effect followed, the worshippers were generally afraid to execute them. When petitions had been put up in vain to one saint, they were transferred to another. In cases of difficulty, the advice of the saints was asked, sometimes by prayer, to which an answer was vouchsafed in visions; sometimes by laying a letter on the grave or altar which contained the relics of the saint, with a paper for the expected answer, which, if the saint were propitious, was given in writing, while otherwise the paper was left blank.

Relics of scriptural personages continued to be found. Of this a remarkable instance occurred in the year 487, when Peter the Fuller, then patriarch of Antioch and strong in the favour of Zeno, revived the claim of jurisdiction over Cyprus which had been disallowed by the general council of Ephesus. Anthimus, bishop of Constantia and metropolitan of the island, a sound catholic, was summoned to appear at Constantinople, and answer the monophysite patriarch’s claims. On the eve of his departure from Cyprus, the bishop was visited in his sleep by St. Barnabas, who discovered to him the resting-place of his remains. The body of the apostle was found accordingly, and with it a copy of St. Matthew’s Gospel, written by the hand of St. Barnabas himself. Fortified by this discovery, Anthimus proceeded to Constantinople, and met the apostolical pretensions of Antioch by the miraculous proof that his own church also could boast an apostolic origin. The emperor gladly admitted the claim, and expressed great delight that his reign had been distinguished by so illustrious an event; whereupon Peter returned discomfited to Antioch, and the autocephalous independence of Cyprus was established beyond all controversy.

Spurious relics were largely manufactured. Lives of recent saints were composed, and were largely embellished with miraculous recitals. Saints of older date were supplied with biographies written in a like spirit of accommodation to the prevailing taste; and imaginary saints, with suitable histories, were invented.

The Nestorian controversy had a very important effect in advancing the blessed Virgin to a prominence above all other saints which had been unknown in earlier times. When the title of Theotokos had been denied to her, Cyril, Proclus, and the other opponents of Nestorius, burst forth in their sermons and writings into hyperbolical flights in vindication of it, and in exaltation of the Saviour’s mother. In this Eutychians vied with Catholics; the monophysite Peter of Antioch was the first who introduced the name of the Virgin into all the prayers of his church. Churches were dedicated to her honour in greater numbers than before; thus it seems probable that the first church which bore her name at Rome was the basilica of Pope Liberius, founded by and originally styled after him, which Sixtus III rebuilt with great splendour in the year after the council of Ephesus, and which, among the many other Roman churches of St. Mary, is distinguished by the title of Major. Justinian invoked the aid of St. Mary for the prosperity of his administration; Narses never ventured to fight a battle unless he had previously received some token of her approval. The idea of a female mediator—performing in the higher world offices akin to those labours of mercy and intercession which befit the feminine character on earths—was one which the mind of mankind was ready to receive; and, moreover, this idea of the blessed Mary was welcomed as a substitute for some which had been lost by the fall of polytheism, with its host of female deities. The veneration of her, therefore, advanced rapidly, although it was not until a much later period that it reached its greatest height.

The religious use of images and pictures gained ground. Figures of the blessed Virgin—in some cases throned, and with the infant Saviour in her arms—were now introduced into churches. It was during this time that stories began to be current of authentic likenesses of the Saviour, painted by St. Luke or sent down from heaven ;y and of miracles wrought by them in healing the sick, casting out devils, procuring victory against enemies, and the like. The use of images obtained more in the east than in the west. Leontius, bishop of Neapolis in Cyprus, at the end of the sixth century, eloquently defends the worship of them, in token of honour towards those whom they represent; and he speaks of miraculous images from which blood trickled. On the other hand, Xenaias or Philoxenus, a bishop of the Syrian Hierapolis, who was notorious as a monophysite in the early part of the century, ejected all images out of churches.

To the festivals of general observation was added in the sixth century that of the Presentation, which in the cast had the name of Hypapante, from the meeting of the Holy Family with Symeon in the temple. The first celebration of this festival at Constantinople was in 542. The Annunciation was also probably celebrated in the sixth century, as it was fully established in the next. In most countries it was kept on the 25th of March, although in Spain and in Armenia other days were chosen, in order that it might not interfere with the Lenten fast. These festivals, although having the Saviour for their primary object, fell in with the prevailing tendency to exalt the mother of his humanity; and hence it was that, after a time, the title of “The Presentation in the Temple” was superseded by that of “The Purification”. The Nativity of St. John the Baptist (June 24) appears to have been also now generally observed—the more naturally because midsummer was marked by festival rites both among the Romans and among the northern nations. It is mentioned by the council of Agde, in 506, with Easter, Christmas, Epiphany, Ascension-day, and Pentecost, as belonging to the class of chief festivals, which persons whose ordinary worship was performed in "oratories" were required to celebrate in the churches of their cities or parishes.

The earliest witness for the observance of Advent in the Latin Church is Maximus of Turin, in the fifth century. The season was regarded as penitential; fasting was prescribed for three days in each week, and the council of Lerida, in 524, enacted that no marriages should be celebrated from the beginning of Advent until after the Epiphany. It would seem that at Rome the number of Sundays in Advent was five, although afterwards reduced to four; while at Milan, Spain, and in Gaul the season extended to six weeks, beginning on the Sunday after Martinmas, from which it was styled the 44 Quadragesima of St. Martin. In the east also it lasted forty days, although the observance of it was less strict than in the west. The fast of the Rogation days, with its litanies and processions, was instituted by Mamercus, bishop of Vienne, during a time of distress and terror among his people, occasioned by the last eruptions of the volcanoes of Auvergne, about the middle of the fifth century; and the observance of it was soon adopted elsewhere, although it was not established at Rome until the pontificate of Leo II, about the year 800. The fasts of the four seasons, out of which has grown the observance of the Ember weeks, are mentioned by Leo the Great and other writers of the time. But the ordination of clergy was not as yet connected with these seasons; for although Gelasius prescribes that it shall be limited to certain times of the year, the times which he mentions do not exactly agree with the Ember weeks.

In the doctrine of the sacraments no alteration is to be noted during this period. With respect to the Eucharist, however, writers and preachers became more rhetorical in their language, so that some of their expressions might, if they stood alone, imply the later doctrine of the Roman church. But that no one as yet doubted the continued subsistence of the elements in their own nature, while a higher virtue was believed to be imparted to them by the consecration, appears from other expressions which are clear and unequivocal. Chrysostom, in a letter written during his exile, distinctly lays down that, while the consecrated bread is dignified with the name of "the Lord's body," yet the nature of the bread itself remains unchanged; and the illustration which he draws from this, as to the union of natures in the person of the Redeemer—an illustration obviously inconsistent with the more modern teaching of Rome—was continually repeated in the course of the controversies which followed.

The practice of communicating in one kind only was of so much later introduction in the church, that it would be premature to advert to it here, but for the decided language in which it was condemned by Gelasius I :— “A division of the one and the same mystery”, he declares, “cannot be made without great sacrilege”. It is needless to refute, or even to characterize, the explanations which writers in the Roman interest have devised in order to evade this prohibition—by restricting the words of Gelasius to the priests alone, or by saying that, as they were directed against the Manicheans, they relate to those sectaries only, and have no application to Catholics, inasmuch as these do not abhor the reception of the eucharistic cup.

Canons were now found necessary to enforce the reception of the Lord’s supper. Thus the council of Agde, held under the presidency of Caesarius of Arles, in 506, enacted that no secular person should be accounted a Christian unless he communicated at Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide. The same council ordered that the people should not leave the church until after the priest’s benediction and the first council of Orleans, in 511, directed that they should remain until the solemnity of the mass should be finished, after which they were to depart with a blessing. The meaning of these canons appears to be, that those who did not intend to communicate were to retire after a blessing, which (as may be seen in the Mozarabic and Gallican liturgies) intervened between the consecration and the administration of the sacrament; so that a formal sanction was thus given to a practice which at an earlier time had provoked the denunciations of Chrysostom and other writers. In connection with this was introduced a custom of giving to non-communicants, as if by way of substitute for the Eucharist, portions of the bread offered at the altar, which were blessed by the priest, and were designated by the name of Eulogiae.

In the penitential discipline of the western church, an important change was introduced by Leo the Great. Until his time, penance had been public, and the offence of each penitent was read aloud from a written record; but Leo, with a view (as he professed) to removing an impediment which might deter many from repentance, declared such exposures to be unnecessary; “for”, he writes, “that confession is sufficient which is made, first to God, and then also to the priest, who approaches as an intercessor for the sins of the penitent”. The effect of this was to abolish the ordinary performance of public penance, and to substitute for it the practice of secret confession only.

 

Decline of Learning.

 

From the middle of the fifth century learning had been on the decline in the church, and towards the end of the sixth, hardly any other than ecclesiastical literature continued to be cultivated. “Alas for our days!” exclaimed the contemporaries of Gregory of Tours, “for the study of letters hath perished from among us, neither is there one found among the nations who can set forth in records the deeds of the present time”. The barbarian invasions—the necessity in troubled times of directing all activity to practical purposes,—the extinction of paganism, with the consequent removal of the motive by which Christian teachers had been obliged to qualify themselves for arguing with learned adversaries—the dislike and scorn with which the monkish spirit regarded heathen literature and philosophy—all combined in producing this result. Even among the works of Christian authors, all but such as were of acknowledged orthodoxy were proscribed; and this also operated towards the discouragement of learning. Nor did the age produce any writer whose genius could triumph over its depressing and narrowing influences. The most distinguished of those who lived in the middle or towards the end of the century—such as Cassiodore and the encyclopedic Isidore of Seville—did for the most part little beyond abridging and compiling from the works of earlier authors and the popularity of their productions had the effect of throwing the originals into the shade.

Yet in this sad time—amid corruption of doctrine and of morals, while intellect degenerated, while learning sank, and civilization was overwhelmed—not only may we believe that the gospel was secretly and gradually fulfilling its predicted work of leavening the mass in which it had been hidden, but even on the very surface of things we can largely discern its effects. It humanizes barbarians, it mitigates the horrors of war and of slavery, it teaches both to conquerors and to conquered something of a new bond superior to differences of race, it controls the oppression of brutal force by revealing responsibilities beyond those of this present world. We see the church not only bearing within it the hope of immortality, but rescuing the intellectual treasures of the past from the deluge of barbarism, and conveying them safely to later generations.