LIFE OF ALCUINCHAPTER V. ALCUIN'S RETURN TO THE COURT OF
CHARLEMAGNE, AND HIS PARTICIPATION IN RELIGIOUS AFFAIRS UNTIL HIS PERMANENT
SETTLEMENT IN FRANCE. A. D. 790-796.
SHORTLY after Alcuin’s arrival in his native country, there occurred one
of those revolutions, of which the annals of Northumberland present so many
instances. The division of the natural strength of the kingdom, the mixed
population, and the vicinity of the Scottish frontier, beyond which every rebel
found safety, and frequently support, facilitated and occasioned sudden changes
in the government. One king hurled another from his throne, only to give place
in his turn to a third within the space of a few years. Alchred was scarcely seated on the throne, when those who had elevated him to it
deserted him. He took refuge in Scotland and resigned his crown to Ethelred,
against whom the thanes, Ethelwald and Heardbert, raised the standard of rebellion in 778, and
compelled him to seek safety by flight. The sceptre was now transferred to the
hands of Alfwold, who wielded it with sufficient vigour
to retain it for the space of ten years. He could not, however, eventually
escape the fate of his predecessors; like them, he fell a victim to the
inconstancy and treachery of the nobles of Northumberland, in the year 7881. Alchred’s son, Osred, took
possession of the vacant throne, which he occupied at the period of Alcuin’s
arrival at York, in 790. A strong party, however, was already formed against
him, who were desirous of recalling Ethelred from exile, after a banishment of
twelve years. Alcuin was a witness of Ethelred’s success, and of the revengeful
cruelty with which he punished the injuries he had formerly received, and
whereby he endeavored to secure the future stability of his government. The
country continued for two years in a state of distraction, when the
imprisonment and execution of Osred terminated for a
while these intestine commotions. These events again involved Alcuin in
occupations from which he had hoped to escape at York, and rendered him the
more disposed to return to the court of France, where the supreme power being
lodged in the hands of an energetic ruler, repressed the aristocracy, instead
of becoming their tool. A similar scene of confusion was soon repeated, which
so disgusted Alcuin with his own country that he sought in France, and at
length obtained in the abbey of Tours, the repose and advantages no longer to
be found at York. He was, moreover, recalled to the continent by pressing
letters from Charlemagne, who needed Alcuin’s counsel and learning, not only
for the purpose of investigating and suppressing a religious doctrine which had
sprung up within his dominions, and threatened a dangerous schism, but also of
opposing the pretensions of the Byzantine court, which demanded that the
resolutions adopted at its instigation by the pseudo-ecumenical council at
Nice, with regard to the worship of images, should be binding upon the churches
of the West as well as of the East. Both points were of too vital importance to
the theory, as well as the practice of religion, and affected too nearly the
peace of the kingdom, to allow Alcuin to remain indifferent. He displayed in
the management of both, the greatest and most praiseworthy zeal; and happily
succeeded in securing the maintenance of the orthodox doctrine, and the public tranquility. The first point was concerning a new view of
the relation of Jesus to God as Father.
1.—Rise and Progress of the Doctrine of the Adoptionists.
No sooner was Christianity secured from external persecution by becoming
the prevailing religion of the state, than disputes respecting doctrines and
opinions rendered it dangerous to the government by which it had been embraced.
No language can express, and no imagination conceive, with adequate
distinctness and accuracy, that which was the subject of controversy. Hence the
adjustment of one cause of contention originated a new subject of strife. The
temporal power which had regulated spiritual affairs during the time of
paganism, was no longer in a condition to interpose; for, with Christianity, an
organized ecclesiastical body had forced its way into the political
constitution, and arrogated to itself the sole right of determining points of
doctrine. The temporal power, therefore, could not interfere in these
controversies without appearing as a party desirous of securing the victory,
and a solid foundation for its own favourite sentiments, under the pretence of
an anxiety to maintain the public tranquillity. In every contest of that
description, it had to encounter the opposition of those who struggled for the
triumph of their own opinions, regardless of existing circumstances, and even
of the danger of involving in one common ruin the altar and the throne. The
only means, therefore, of preserving the tranquillity of the state, was to
summon an ecumenical council; but if such an assembly were with much difficulty
convened, and if after many fierce debates, it came to a decision, this very
decision usually proved the fruitful germ of cruel persecutions, and of
conflicts still fiercer and more dangerous. In subsequent times wherein
different interests prevailed, and colder spirits received the dogmas of the
church with indifference, or regarded them as absurd, these controversies have
been considered errors of the understanding, and deplored as the lamentable
result of ignorance and superstition. Such a view, however, is too partial and
circumscribed to be correct. It is always gratifying to contemplate the mind in
a state of activity, under whatever form it may develop itself; and the object
to which intellectual power is directed, is of far less importance than the
amount of the force which is employed. It is among the noblest benefits
conferred by Christianity on mankind, that at a time when political freedom was
groaning under the iron yoke of despotism, throughout the whole extent of the
Roman empire, she opened new prospects to the mind, inspiring apathy itself
with animation, and supplying men with courage and strength to support their
convictions in the face of tyranny, or to die in their defence. Freedom and
energy of mind forsook politics, and fled within the precincts of religion; and
although the contentions concerning the Trinity and the nature of Christ have
not the same practical utility as the disputes upon political rights and the
best form of government, yet they are equally important in the history of the
human intellect. Convictions are errors only in the eyes of those who do not
participate in them. So long as they serve to stimulate the powers of
investigation, they are deserving of respect; and if in later times they appear
absurd or trifling, it is because we forget the fate of all human efforts
which, with the change of the objects of interest, cease to be interesting.
The mystical portion of the history of the founder of the Christian
religion was a boundless field of contention, and an inexhaustible armoury for
the controversialists of the primitive church. The relation of Jesus to his
Heavenly Father, and to the third person in the mysterious union of the Trinity,
long agitated the Christian world. At length, after many furious debates, and
when the passions of mankind had been exhausted in persecution, the decision of
the first ecumenical council at Nice prevailed, and the divinity of Christ, as
well as his identity with the Father and the Holy Spirit, became an established
principle of the orthodox church. Arianism, on the ruin of which the orthodox
system was founded, was speedily avenged by the startling consequences to be
deduced from it. Out of the controversy upon the Trinity, arose the yet fiercer
contest concerning the single, or the double nature in Christ. The orthodox
doctrine of the union of the Divine Spirit with a human soul and human body,
was unsatisfactory, in proportion to the incomprehensibility of the connection,
and the unwillingness of mankind to resort to faith in all doubts of the
understanding. It was impossible to prove the union of the two natures, without
new doctrines, new sects, and new disputes. Some, in order to avoid dishonouring
the Divine Spirit by any gross admixture with a material substance, supposed
Christ to have had a merely apparent, not a real body; others endeavored to
avoid the admission that God had permitted himself to be born of a woman in the
ordinary way of human birth, by regarding Jesus merely as a perfect man who was
filled, at his baptism, but not before, with the Logos or Divine Spirit. So
little effect had these and similar views in removing previous convictions,
that the worship of the Virgin Mary as the mother of God began to be universal.
Such a practice, which was nowhere authorized in Scripture, was revolting to
the mind of Nestorius, patriarch of Constantinople. He vented his indignation
in sermons couched in the most violent language; and was led on from one
position to another, till he at length asserted that the two natures of Christ
were distinctly separate. He allowed that God and man were united in Christ,
but maintained that all that was exalted and sublime in him was to be ascribed
to the divine, whilst all that was inferior or ordinary must belong to the
human nature. The elevated station of the patriarch gave considerable weight to
his opinion, and his doctrine found some partisans, but a still greater number
of opponents, who, after many turbulent synods, finally succeeded in depriving
the heretical patriarch of his see, driving him into exile, and surrendering
his adherents a prey to persecution. The council held at Chalcedon in 451, at
last established, on the authority of Pope Leo, the doctrine received to the
present day by both the Catholic and Protestant church,—that there existed in
Christ two natures, but only one person.
This decision, instead of putting an end to the controversy, only gave
it a new direction, and theology continued to nourish the flame of spiritual
excitement in the Byzantine empire, and often kindled it into a frightful
conflagration. The west of Europe enjoyed, in this respect, a much greater
degree of tranquillity. The Western monarchs had too little taste for theological
inquiries, the clergy, at least the greater part of them, were too ignorant,
and the people too much occupied by other interests, to admit of such
commotions as those which agitated the East. Since the extinction of Arianism,
the Pope had become the champion of Western orthodoxy, the representative of
the West at the Eastern councils, and the source of the true and only saving
faith. The ignorant and the indolent were well content to acquiesce in this
arrangement, and to pronounce, without further examination, a sentence of
condemnation against all who differed from them. Before the time of Charlemagne
especially, the French clergy were better qualified to use temporal weapons
against the enemies of the country, than to wield the spiritual sword against the
enemies of the church. Since the accession of Charles, society had undergone so
great an alteration, that men of ability and intelligence were no longer
wanting both for attack and defence in a religious dispute. When, therefore,
even in the kingdom of France, people began to entertain views of the doctrine
out of which the Arian, Nestorian, and so many other disturbances had arisen,
differing from those already established, the example of former times and the
actual situation of the Byzantine empire, where the flames of discord were
raging at that very time, served as a warning of the consequences of a schism
in religion. Charles’ interference, therefore, in a dispute concerning an
obscure and abstruse doctrine of religion, is to be regarded less as a proof of
his piety than of his anxiety for the welfare of his subjects. His duty as a
sovereign required that he should stifle at its birth a contest, in which
excited passions and conflicting interests might easily overstep the limits of
a theological controversy, and form the commencement of a violent and
protracted struggle, which would shake the church and state to their
foundations. The mode of his interference is remarkable; and his whole behaviour
in this affair, affords the honourable testimony, that he paid such regard to
the exercise of the reason and the freedom of investigation, as to authorize an
impartial examination of truth. Instead of persecuting with fire and sword
those who dissented from the established doctrine, he gave them an opportunity
either of proving their opinions by argument, or of submitting to a triumphant
refutation. This moderation is the more commendable, as the new doctrine was
first advanced in a Mahommedan country.
Whilst Spain was under the dominion of the Saracens, the Christian
religion was tolerated there, as in all other Mahommedan countries; but the
slight connection of the Spaniards with the rest of the Christian world, the
passiveness of the temporal government with respect to the creed of its
subjects, and the scoffs of the infidels which compelled an examination of many
of the dogmas of Christianity, concurred in rendering them liable to deviate
from the orthodox faith. Hence the defection of Archbishop Elipandus of Toledo. He had probably heard so many doubts respecting the divinity and
incarnation of Christ, that his belief began to waver. He was impressed with
the idea, that Christ, as man, could not stand in the same relation to God, as
Christ, as God; and that what might justly be attributed to the divine nature
of the Redeemer must be denied to his human capacity. Distrustful of his own
powers of comprehension and elucidation, he was anxious to resort to the
counsel and assistance of others, and accordingly applied to Felix, bishop of Urgel, one of the most esteemed prelates in that part of
Spain which, since the year 778, had been incorporated with the kingdom of
France. Felix had so distinguished himself by his learning and virtues, that
Alcuin, at an earlier date, had entered into a correspondence with him. The
answer of the bishop was such as to confirm his doubts. A contemporary
chronicler says, “he most imprudently, thoughtlessly, and in opposition to the
doctrines of the Catholic church, not only replied that Christ was the adopted
son of God, but in some books written to the aforesaid bishop, endeavored most
obstinately to defend the wickedness of his opinion”. Elipandus was so convinced by his reasoning, that he immediately assented to his
proposition. The tenets of the new doctrine represented Christ in a double
relationship as Son and God. According to his divine nature, he was a real, as
man he was only an adopted son of God; and his Godhead itself was, in the
former case, a true, in the latter, a merely nominal, or titular divinity.
REFUTATION OF THE OPINIONS OF ELIPANDUS.
Elipandus now endeavored to disseminate his opinions with all the zeal of a new convert,
and to persecute those of a different faith with all the fury of bigotry. It
was natural, that one placed in his exalted station should gain many
proselytes, and thereby become more firmly persuaded of the correctness of his
own views; but the number of his adversaries was by no means inconsiderable.
Amongst these, Etherius, bishop of Uxama, or Osma, and the presbyter
Beatus, were the most distinguished. The bishop of Toledo loaded both with such
accusations, that they deemed it due to their own honour and the welfare of the
church, to expose the errors of the doctrine of the Adoption. As touching the
doctrine itself, they appealed in their writings to faith. The proofs which
they adduce from the testimony of the apostles, the miracles of Jesus, the
words of the Redeemer himself, and also from the confessions of the devils, are
calculated rather to justify faith, and to expose the errors of their opponents,
than to render the subject itself more clear and distinct. They maintained that
faith must precede knowledge, and be, in religious matters especially, the
preponderating principle, because, in every investigation, we incur the hazard
of falling into the snares of destruction. To the confession of faith of the Adoptionists, they opposed the orthodox symbol of faith,
and demonstrated that their deviation from it was unauthorized by the books of
the Old or New Testament. In order to terrify the heretics, they exhibited the
splendid array of faithful and triumphant heroes who adorned their ranks. “With
us”, said they, “is David, that magnanimous hero who struck the infidel Goliath
in the forehead with a little stone, and with one blow felled him to the earth
: with us is Moses, who overwhelmed Pharaoh with the Egyptian host in the Red
Sea, whilst he led his own people through on dry land : with us is Joshua who
shut up five kings in a cave, after he had defeated Amalek : with us is father
Abraham, who, with his three hundred servants, overcame and spoiled five kings
: with us is the bravest of mankind, Gideon, who with the assistance of his
three hundred chosen men, discomfited the Midianites as one man : with us is
Samson, who, stronger than a lion and firmer than a rock, overthrew, alone and
unarmed, a thousand armed men : with us are the twelve patriarchs, the sixteen
prophets, the apostles, the evangelists, with us are the martyrs and ministers
of the church : with us is Jesus, son of the Virgin, together with the whole
church which has been ransomed by his blood, and extended throughout the
world”. In consequence of the struggle respecting the new doctrines, a more
exalted and divine position was assigned to the Man in Christ, whom the Adoptionists regarded as an ordinary man. In this the two
prelates were very successful. The pure and immaculate conception, of course,
makes a wide distinction between the incarnate God and ordinary men who are
conceived and born in sin; besides, nothing is impossible with God, and the
miracle consists in the fact that God remained God even as man. The doctrine of
the Adoptionists is repugnant in itself; for the
separation between a true and an adopted Son, destroys the Son, as effectually
as the assertion that God may be partly God, and partly not God, annihilates
the Godhead. Moreover, the human body of Christ typically represents the
church, of which Christ is the head. On the other hand, all who secede from the
orthodox church, represent the body of the devil who is Antichrist. To prove
this position, and thus overturn the doctrine of Elipandus,
is the object of the second book of the work quoted above.
From this refutation, which is written with considerable spirit and
animation, though deficient in acute logical reasoning, it is evident that the
passions of the parties in Spain had been sufficiently enkindled to burst forth
into a flame which might have proved dangerous to the state, had Elipandus possessed the power of attacking his adversaries
with other weapons than those of calumny. The Saracenic government, however,
paid little regard to the theological disputes of the Christians; and in the
Christian kingdom of Asturias, Etherius and Beatus
were careful to suppress the heresy. Still, through the medium of Bishop Felix,
the contagion spread to the Spanish frontier; and in consequence of the
connection of these provinces with France, it soon extended itself beyond the
Pyrenees, and raged in Septimania with such violence
as to awaken the attention of Charles. On this account, a provincial synod was
held at Narbonne in 788, but separated without even examining, much less coming
to a decision upon the new doctrines. As they continued to acquire credit and
celebrity, the danger increased, and the necessity for the interference of the
sovereign became imperative. A more timid prince would have interposed the
strong arm of power; but Charles was too just to condemn, unheard, a man
renowned for wisdom and morality; and as he possessed sufficient authority to
hold the passions of the contending parties in check, he was enabled to show
the deference due to learning, without hazarding the repose of the state. He therefore
commanded an investigation, and summoned a synod at Ratisbon in 792, before
which he cited Bishop Felix to appear, in order to justify himself and his
opinions from the reproaches wherewith they had been assailed. Felix obeyed;
but failing, either in learning or courage, to defend his opinions in the
presence of the assembled bishops, he abjured them as heretical and deserving
the condemnation pronounced upon them by the synod. From Ratisbon, he was sent
to Rome, accompanied by Angilbert, in order to
renounce his confession of faith in the presence of Pope Hadrian I. Here he
again recanted his errors, and declared (confirming the declaration with a
solemn oath) that he regarded Jesus Christ, not as the adopted, but as the real
and beloved son of God. Felix then returned to Urgel;
but here he encountered so many reproaches from his followers for his
fickleness, that he yielded to the urgent entreaties of his friends, and,
unmindful of his oath, again returned to his former doctrines.
Charles might now have punished him as a relapsed heretic, and have
suppressed, by forcible means, errors which had been condemned by their very
author; but it is probable that Felix justified his relapse by fresh arguments,
so that the king deemed it more advisable to oppose argument by argument. This
determination may have been also in some degree influenced by the situation of
the Spanish frontier. A violent persecution might easily induce the Adoptionists to throw themselves into the arms of the
Saracens ; and to seek under their dominion that toleration which Elipandus enjoyed, but which was denied to them by a
Christian king. Charles therefore wrote to Alcuin, inviting him to return, and
entreating that he would not withhold his assistance in an affair of such
moment both to the church and to his kingdom. He could not have selected an
abler or more zealous champion of orthodoxy than Alcuin, nor one more ready to
oppose the innovations of the heretics. He had been educated in the church, all
his studies had been directed to theology, and his soul clung to the orthodox
doctrines. It may be proper here to exhibit his theological views, and his mode
of interpreting the Bible. The best means of accomplishing this, will be to
characterize and exhibit some specimens of his exegetical works.
2.—Alcuin’s Theological Opinions.
If the Christian religion be not regarded as the summit of devotional
feeling, but only as the immediate revelation of God, afforded to us by the
books of the New and the preparatory writings of the Old Testament, it appears
as an isolated historical fact. The mode of conduct which it prescribes,
becomes a law for all succeeding ages; and it is only necessary to oppose that
which has been, in order to refute any deviation from it. Whatever the Holy Scriptures,
according to their usual interpretation contain, and whatever the distinguished
and recognized Fathers of the church have taught, is received as truth, and is
sufficient to suppress every other doctrine. The struggle is not for truth as
such, but for the maintenance of an historically authenticated and acknowledged
truth. This position, which by a new party-name may be denominated that of a
supernaturalist (in contradistinction to a rationalist) was that assumed by
Alcuin in theology. In the Bible, he discerns not only the spirit, but the
words of God; and perceives in the sacred writings of the Jews, the latent
indication of a future salvation and mercy, which has been realized in the New
Testament. In order to maintain this position, it was necessary to have
recourse to mystical interpretations and dialectic subtleties; both of which
peculiarities distinguish the explanatory works of Alcuin. To ordinary
expressions an importance is attached which renders them extraordinary; and
arguments are substituted for the simple meaning which often surprise us by
their ingenuity, or please by their spiritual turn, but which, on closer
inspection, are found to be devoid of foundation. We have a short commentary of
Alcuin’s, in the form of question and answer, on the first book of Moses or
Genesis, the object of which is to point out the revelations and latent
indications of a future salvation contained in the simple and sublime tradition
of the Hebrews respecting the origin of the world, the state of innocence and
simplicity in which our first parents lived, their elevation from this
condition to that of self-consciousness and intellectual perception, and the
historical description of the patriarchs. The account of the creation of the
woman, for example, gives occasion to the following questions :—“Why was the
woman made of the rib of the man whilst he was sleeping, instead of being
formed like him out of the dust?” The answer to which is, “Evidently on
account of the mystery, to indicate that Christ, out of whose side the source
of our salvation flowed, for the sake of the church fell asleep on the cross”.
Q. What reference to Christ has the following passage, “Therefore shall
a man leave his father and mother, and cleave unto his wife?”
A. The Redeemer left his father, because he appeared to men not in the
form in which he resembles the Father : he left his mother, inasmuch as he
renounced the synagogue of the Jews, of whom he was born after the flesh, in
order to cleave unto the church that was to be gathered together from among the
heathen.
Even the most secret thoughts and designs of the Almighty are made the
subjects of interrogation; and Alcuin is so little at a loss for an answer,
that one might suppose he had sat in council at the creation of the world.
Amongst his explanatory works, we also find a Short Explanation of the
Ten Commandments. He divides these, according to their respective characters,
into two parts. The first three refer to the Holy Trinity, but the rest to the
interests of man. The first commandment exhibits God the Father as the only
object of our worship; the second forbids us to regard the Son of God as a
created being, because every created thing is perishable; the third relates to
the Holy Spirit, through whom we are promised eternal rest.
The Psalter was, at that time, one of the most important and favorite books of the old Testament. The fine selection it
offers of sacred songs, was so well suited to the service of the church, as to
render it indispensable in divine worship. Such a strains of feeling pervades
the psalms in which David breathed out his noble spirit; his repentance for
former sins, his mourning were afflictions and perplexing events, his rejoicing
at the help vouchsafed by the Lord, and his praise of God’s greatness and
glory, are expressed with such truth of nature and such poetical beauty, as
cannot fail to touch every human heart. In addition to this interest, which
Alcuin experienced in common with the rest of mankind, he felt the peculiar
satisfaction of discerning, in these sacred songs, the latent mysteries of the
Christian religion, and saw everywhere the Redeemer and his redeemed church
glorified. In his exposition of some of the psalms of David, he either
amplifies the idea, subjoins to the words of the psalmist some moral precepts,
pious meditations, and beautiful thoughts, or discovers and explains an
allegorical meanings. The latter is especially remarkable in his exposition of
the Song of Degrees, or the fifteen psalms of David in full choir. These, according
to his view, constitute the steps by which we mount upwards to the joys of the
Lord. Humility is placed lowest as the first step; this leads us to the second
step, Faith, and thence to the third, Desire after the heavenly Jerusalem. The
fourth step, Confidence, and the fifth, Patience, must be surmounted before we
can attain on the sixth the firmness of the eternal Jerusalem, and those who
are striving after it. Here, repose from the exertions that have been made, and
the delightful view of the lovely prospect is granted, On this account, the
psalmist celebrates in the succeeding psalm (cxxvi.) the praise of our
Redeemer, and our deliverance from the bondage of the Devil, and the chains of
sin. In like manner, each of the following psalms forms one of the higher steps
which conduct to the habitation of the Lord. On reaching the topmost, which is
placed immediately before the entrance (Ps. cxxxiv.) we are instructed in the
duty which those have to perform who are admitted; and what could this duty be,
but to praise the Lord with heart and voice
In the commentary on the Song of Solomon, Alcuin not only endeavours to
prove that all the expressions in the Old Testament have a reference to the
future redemption of man by Jesus Christ, but also attempts to explain the
mystical signification of the numbers that occur therein. As specimens of the
most remarkable passages have already been given, and as opportunities will yet
occur of exemplifying his peculiar style, we will merely observe, with regard
to this treatise, that neither the amorous expressions, nor unequivocal
admiration of female beauty, which so strikingly characterize this portion of
Scripture, prevent the commentator from discerning in them a representation of
the Christian church under the figure of the bride of Christ.
Alcuin wrote a commentary on the Book of Ecclesiastes for the benefit of
his pupils, Onias, Candidus and Nathanael, after, as he expresses it, “they had flown from the nest of his
paternal care into the open firmament of worldly occupation”; that is, after
they had repaired to the court of Charlemagne, where they continued to be the
objects of his unceasing anxiety, and of the hope that they would not disgrace
their teacher. No book appeared to him better calculated to arm them against
the allurements of worldly grandeur, by exhibiting its nothingness and vanity,
and to turn their hearts to that which is eternal and unfading, than the book
of Ecclesiastes. The greatest part of the commentary is copied from St. Jerome;
a fact which Alcuin by no means desired to conceal, nor indeed had he any cause
to be ashamed of it, for, as I have already had occasion to remark, the
scarcity of books in those times, rendered an accurate. copy of a useful work
as valuable as a correct edition of an ancient author is at the present day.
Alcuin concludes his exposition of the Old Testament with an
interpretation of the names of all the ancestors of Christ, according to their
literal, allegorical and moral sense. For example : Abraham signifies literally
the father of many nations. The name, taken in an allegorical sense, may be
understood to signify the father of all believers, to whom we must all cry,
Abba, Father. The moral lesson to be deduced from this name is, that we should
be the fathers of many virtues, and possess by inheritance, an accumulation of
good works.
EXPOSITION OF ST. JOHN’S GOSPEL.
All the peculiarities which are observable in the dissertations upon the
Old Testament from which we have quoted, are combined in the exposition of the
Gospel of John. A work which affords more than any other, an opportunity for
speculation, allegory, and the mystical interpretation of numbers. Whenever an
established principle of religious doctrine is in danger of being unsettled, or
violated by the explanation, the exact literal sense is contended for with
dialectic acuteness. In other places, where this is not the case, a free and
arbitrary construction overleaps all the limits of fair interpretation; in
order to exalt the most ordinary into extraordinary circumstances, and to
transfer the scenes of simple and natural life into the regions of the sublime
and heavenly. The extraction of a few passages will enable the reader to judge
of the manner, and thereby of the spirit of the times.
Gospel John I. 1. — “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was
with God, and the Word was God”. This may be understood in two ways. The Father
is the beginning, therefore the expression is synonymous with, in the Father.
In the Father is the Son, whom the Evangelist calls the Word. We must not,
however, be led into error from the answer of the Son of God, who, in the
course of this Gospel, replies to the question of the Jews, “Who God himself
was?”— “The beginning, I, who now talk with you”. If then the Son is the
beginning who has a father, how much more must God the Father be the beginning,
since he has a Son of whom he is the father? For the Son is the Father’s Son,
and the Father truly the Son’s Father, and God the Father; but not God of God
whilst the Son is God of God. The Father is light, but not of light; the Son is
also light, but light of light. So the Father is the beginning, but not of the
beginning; the Son is the beginning, but a beginning of a beginning. That which
was in the beginning no more terminates with time, than it commences with the
beginning. The Son, therefore, as the beginning, ceases not with time, nor was
he preceded by the beginning, whether we refer the passage, in the Beginning
was the Word, to the beginning of creation or of time. Every created thing
which had a beginning, was then the word of God, by which all things are made.
The Evangelist, therefore, repeats four times was, was, was, was, in order to
express that the co-eternal Word of God the Father preceded all time. The other
Evangelists relate that the Son of God appeared suddenly among men; but John
declares that he had been with God from eternity, for he says, “and the Word
was with God”. The others call him “very man” ;but John assures us that “he was
very God”, in the expression “and the Word was God”. The others say, that “he
lived among men for a time as man”; John, on the contrary, represents him as
God with God from the beginning; for he says, “the same in the beginning was
with God”.
CONVERSION OF THE WATER INTO WINE.
The latent meaning which Alcuin discovered in this passage, and
explained according to the received doctrine, he transfers by means of
allegorical interpretations to passages wherein it does not exist. He considers
every number to involve some mysterious meaning, and the name of every place to
imply something beyond the mere appellation. When the Evangelist relates : “And
the third day there was a marriage in Cana”;—both the number and the place
appear to the commentator to be important and mysterious. For example, the
third day, indicates the third grand epoch in the development of the human
race, on attaining which, they are worthy to receive the divine doctrine of
Christ. The time when men lived merely in imitation of the example of the patriarchs,
constituted the first epoch; that of the written law under the prophets, the
second; and the third and last, the period when the Redeemer himself appeared
in the flesh. “In Cana of Galilee”, signifies that the marriage was celebrated
in the zeal of perfected conversion, emblematically representing that those are
chiefly deserving of the favour of Christ, who, in the zeal of pious enthusiasm
and devotion, have by good works passed from vice to virtue, and from earthly
to heavenly things. The conversion of water into wine indicates the purifying
of the ancient doctrine, which had been defaced and corrupted by the Pharisees.
Here, again, Alcuin’s strong bias towards allegory, leads him to seize and
expatiate upon the most trivial circumstances. And there were set six
water-pots of stone, after the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing
two or three firkins a piece. The six vessels which held the water, are the
pious hearts of the saints, whose perfect life and faith, during the six ages
that preceded the announcement of the Gospel, remain as a pattern to the human
race. The vessels are, with propriety, of stone, because the hearts of the just
are strong, having been strengthened by faith in, and love for, that stone
which Daniel saw, “torn without hands from a mountain, and which became so
great a mountain, that it filled the whole Earth” (Dan. II.
34-35). Zachariah, speaking of it, says : —“Upon one stone, are seven
eyes” (Zach. III.9.); that is, in Christ dwells the universality of spiritual
knowledge. The apostle Peter alludes to it in the following words, “to whom ye
are come as to a living stone ye also as lively stones are built up a spiritual
house”. (1. Pet. II. 4-5.) With propriety, also, were the water-pots set after
the manner of the purifying of the Jews; for to the Jewish nation only was the
Law given by Moses; but Christ has imparted the grace and truth of the Gospel
both to heathens and to Jews. We are told that each contained “two or three
firkins a piece”, to intimate that the writers of the Holy Scriptures,
sometimes speak only of the Father and the Son, for instance ; “You had made
all things in wisdom” : for the strength and wisdom of God is Christ. Sometimes also they mention the Holy Spirit, as in that passage of the
Psalms; “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of
them by the breath of his mouth”. The Word, the Lord, and the Spirit,
constitute the triune Jehovah. Quite as great a difference as between water and
wine, was there between the sense in which the Holy Scriptures were understood,
previously to the coming of the Redeemer, and that in which he himself
expounded them to the Apostles, and their disciples bequeathed as a perpetual
rule. The Lord, who at the commencement of creation made all things out of
nothing, could indeed have filled empty water-pots with wine, but he chose
rather to make wine of water, in order, emblematically, to teach that he came
into the world, not to relax or abolish, but rather to fulfil the law and the
testimony of the Prophets.
INTEREST EXCITED BY ALCUIN’S WORKS.
It would be unjust to desire that our knowledge, and the degree of moral
and political civilization which we have attained, should be regarded as the
sole criterion of judgment, instead of using it as a mere standard of
comparison between earlier times and the present. The contemptuous shrug, and
the scornful smile of compassion with which we are apt to regard the efforts of
past ages, may one day be bestowed upon many of our pursuits, should posterity
feel equally disposed with ourselves to overlook that which is really good, and
to see that only which is defective, We should look back upon the former state
of intellectual culture, upon the steps whereby society has risen to its
present grade of refinement, with the same respect as that with which a man of
mature age regards the feelings and ideas of his youth, There seems, therefore,
little cause to fear that the portions of Alcuin’s works which we have noticed,
will tend to diminish the merit of his laudable exertions in the opinion of the
reader, especially, as notwithstanding the weakness of argument, so much talent
is displayed, that even in those who had no concern in ecclesiastical affairs
great interest was excited. Omitting the commentary on St. Paul’s Epistles to
Titus, Philemon and the Hebrews, which are composed in a manner precisely
similar to those already quoted, we will adduce in proof of our observation, a
letter which also exhibits the participation of Charlemagne and his courtiers
in these theological investigations.
An officer in the army of Charlemagne, who probably felt particularly
interested in the account of the zeal with which Peter drew his sword in the
defence of Jesus, and smote off the ear of Malchus, was unable to reconcile the
passage in which Jesus bids his disciples buy a sword, (Luke XXII. 36.) with
another passage in the Gospel of St. Matthew, wherein he says, “all they that
take the sword, shall perish with the sword”. (St. Mat. XXVI. 52.) He,
therefore, applied to the king for an explanation. Charles was so thoroughly
acquainted with Alcuin’s manner, that he would not have hesitated to explain
the sword as meaning, allegorically, the word of God; had it not involved the
contradiction. that all they that take God’s word must perish by God’s word. In
this dilemma he had recourse to his oracle in spiritual matters, Alcuin, and
laid before him his own and the soldiers’ scruples. Alcuin solved the
question, by directing the king’s attention to the different circumstances
under which the same word is used in these two different passages. By the sword
mentioned by Matthew, is to be understood revenge for injuries sustained,
because whoever practices this crime brings ruin upon himself. The sword spoken
of by Luke signifies, throughout, the word of God, which we must purchase with
all our possessions; as it alone can enable us to resist the devices of the old
serpent.
The king also desired to know what Jesus meant to imply by the words,
“He that bath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip : and he that
hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one” ; and why, when the
disciples replied that they had two swords, he said, “It is enough?”. Alcuin
interpreted the purchase of the sword to signify the renunciation of the world,
he supposing that by the purse is to be understood private, by the scrip public
property; and the word garment denotes sensual pleasures, which must be
resigned before we can become soldiers of Christ worthy of wearing that sword.
The two swords indicate body and soul; because, if we do the will of God with
these, it is enough. Alcuin requested the king to communicate this explanation
to the warrior; and then, for the benefit of the king, proceeded to remove a
difficulty in which he had entangled himself while unravelling this knotty
point. The question arose, Why does the sword, if it is the word of God, cut
off the ear of his adversaries; as it is through the ear that the word of God
penetrates to the secret recesses of the heart? “What”, exclaims Alcuin, “what
does it import but that the ear of unbelief is cut off to be healed again by
the application of divine mercy, and that, by putting away the old man, we may
be transformed into new creatures. On this account also the servant was named
Malchus, for Malchus means, by interpretation, king, or one who is to be king (regnaturus); because we, in our old state, were the
slaves of sin, but in the new state, when healed by God’s mercy, shall be kings
and rulers in common with Christ. In order to impress upon us that everyone who
confesses Christ must never cease to forgive his enemies, he himself omitted
not to heal his persecutors, even during the period of his agony”.
It had already been attempted to establish the principle that the
Scriptures should remain closed to the laity, in order that they might produce
more magical effects in the hands of the clergy. Alcuin was far from entering
into the narrow policy of desiring to base the power of the clergy on the
ignorance of the people; but rejoiced that the laity had at length begun to
occupy themselves with the Gospel, and wished that the king possessed many such
soldiers as him, to whose questions he had replied.
Alcuin’s intimate acquaintance with the sacred scriptures, and the works
of the Fathers, his anxious care for the purity of doctrine, and his skill in
maintaining it with the light weapons of dialectic art, or the weighty arms of
learning, rendered him the fittest champion of the orthodox church against the
innovations of the heretics. His aim was neither to establish any new, nor to
destroy any ancient principle, but simply to uphold and confirm those which
already existed, and which he recognized as true. His presence was the more
desirable to Charles, as besides the controversy respecting the adoption, he
was engaged in a theological dispute connected with his diplomatic relation to
the Byzantine empire. This was no other than the contention regarding
image-worship, which was at length decided, after having for many years excited
the most violent commotions in the Christian world in the East; and after
having caused the Pope to separate himself from the Byzantine empire, thereby
paving the way for the restoration of the western Roman empire. The decision,
however, was such as accorded neither with the religious sentiments of the
western part of Christendom, nor with the political pretensions of Charlemagne.
A short review of the whole subject may, therefore, be proper, before we
proceed to consider this decision, which, as well as the determination upon the
doctrine of the Adoptionists, resulted from the synod
held at Frankfort-on-the-Maine; we shall thus be better enabled to judge of
Alcuin’s participation therein.
3.-History of the Controversy respecting Image-worship.
The primitive Christians derived their aversion to image-worship from
the Jews; and the more they endeavored to mark the distinction between the new
religion and pagan idolatry, the more confirmed became their abhorrence. The
adoration of Gods, the work of men’s hands, was so strictly prohibited by the
Mosaic law, and so totally irreconcilable with the doctrine of Christianity,
which teaches that God must be worshipped only in spirit and in truth, that the
introduction of a custom derided and despised by the Christians, into the
Christian church, seemed of all evils that which was least to be feared. Yet,
no sooner had the religion of Jesus become predominant, than the great mass of
mankind, who had been led to embrace Christianity, less from conviction than
from expediency, transferred some of the customs and sentiments of paganism to
the religion of the state. These abuses obtained a firm footing with the
greater facility, since the chasm which had divided paganism from Christianity,
was filled up by the overthrow of the former, and as the latter had no longer
to encounter opposition, the vigilance of jealousy was relaxed. The feelings of
the people, which require to be excited by some material impression, were
readily indulged with a visible object of reverence; and it was permitted to honor the cross as the symbol of our redemption, or relics
of the saints as cherished memorials of the excellence of distinguished and
pious men. There was, however, but one small, almost imperceptible, step from
the relics to the images of saints; and from regarding them with respect, to
worshipping them with devotion. If God, as such, could not be depicted, still
his incarnation afforded an opportunity both to the pencil and the chisel, of
presenting him in a visible form to the worship of the faithful. His divine
mother also became a subject for art and adoration. Miracles were related of
the images, which magnified their importance arid increased their number; and
in a short time, all the churches and chapels in the Byzantine empire were filled
with pictures of Jesus, of Mary, of saints, and of angels. Since the sixth
century, believers had again bowed the knee to images, and probably even
worshipped, in the ancient deities of Olympus, the heroes of the Old Testament,
or the saints of the Christian church. A mere alteration of the names of many
statues of pagan times, was all that was requisite to adapt them to the system
of the new church. How easy was it to convert the god of poetry and music into
the royal psalmist of the Old Testament, or to give to the lion-taming Hercules
a scriptural allusion under the name of Samson; and by a similar alteration to
secure safety and respect to the images of other Gods. Art is more indebted
than religion to this evil thus introduced into the church. To it she owes the
preservation of the classical designs of antiquity; and if no new works were
produced, still the practice was maintained, which would have entirely ceased,
had the same abhorrence of the arts of painting and sculpture prevailed in the
Christian, as in the Mahommedan world. Religion, on the contrary, felt that she
was acting in opposition to her precepts, and was placed in an element, which
to her, was not only foreign, but adverse. It was only necessary, once boldly
to avouch, and to prove this fact, in order to create a formidable party. The
lower order of the people were too much attached to images, easily to suffer
themselves to be deprived of them : the monks who derived a considerable
revenue from the preparation and sale of these objects of adoration, were too
much interested in the maintenance of that species of worship, not to offer the
most violent opposition to every attempt at its abolition. The ignorant
fanaticism of the people inflamed by the selfishness and superstition of the
monks rushed to the protection of the images, when the Byzantine emperor Leo,
the Isaurian, urged their removal. Political interests mingled in the contest,
and gave it an extension and an importance which few theological controversies
have attained.
The Isaurian Leo the III was indebted to his military talents for his
elevation to the throne of Byzantium, already tottering from internal
convulsions, and assailed by external foes. He merited, however, his good
fortune by the vigour with which he defended the state from the attacks of the
Arabs, and protected its internal tranquillity from the plots of traitors. With
his reign, therefore, a period of prosperity might have commenced to the
Byzantine empire, had not his repugnance to images involved him in a quarrel with
his subjects, in which he and his successors impaired the strength without
increasing the glory of the state. His adversaries have endeavored to trace
this repugnance from the most impure source; but it probably sprang from his
intercourse with the Arabs, and his efforts to convert the Mahommedans and Jews
in his dominions. Their abhorrence of the image-worship of the Christians was
the great stumbling block to their conversion, nor could force compel, nor
persuasion induce them to exchange their worship of the one true God for
Christian idolatry. The determination of the emperor to remove this obstacle by
reforming the service of the church, became the more confirmed, in proportion
as he became convinced, by a comparison of the present state of Christian
worship with that of the primitive church, and with the precepts of the Old and
New Testament, of the justice of the reproaches cast upon Christianity. This
comparison, also rendered it the more easy for those ecclesiastics who were favourable
to his views to prove, by philosophical and historical reasons, the sinfulness
of image-worship, and the right possessed by the sovereign of checking by his
imperial authority a dangerous abuse. The difficulties, however, attending the
measure, restrained the emperor from any rash or violent proceeding. He first,
though unsuccessfully, endeavored to draw over to his interests the theological
academy at Constantinople, a learned institution connected with the public
library. The members, consisting partly of monks, of course opposed a system
which would deprive the monastic order of a lucrative branch of their
profession, and destroy their chief influence with the people. Leo retired from
the struggle for the moment, but only to wait for a more favourable period,
which, appearing to have arrived in the year 726, he assembled a Silentium or secret council of clerical and lay
officers, and required them to declare the worship of images to be unlawful,
and dangerous to the salvation of the soul. In pursuance of this sentence, all
the images in the churches were removed from the altars and lower parts of the
building, and placed at such an elevation as to be inaccessible to the devout
touch of the faithful. These half measures, however, only rendered the emperor
odious without attaining their object; and two years later, he found himself
compelled to command, in a second edict, what he had merely advised in the
first, viz. that all images of angels, saints, and martyrs, should be entirely
removed from the churches. The refusal of the patriarch Germanus to subscribe
this decree, delayed its execution till the year 730, when he resigned; and
Anastasius, an ecclesiastic who was more favourable to the system of the
emperor, took possession of the patriarchal see. Resistance now commenced on
the part of the monks, and the people whom they had instigated to rebellion.
Their first attack was made upon a statue of Christ, which was placed over the
gate of the palace Chalke. The captain of the body-guard mounted a ladder in
open day, and endeavored with an axe to hew down the image which was in high
reputation, on account of its wonder-working power. The concourse of people
attracted by this outrage first used entreaties, but finding these ineffectual,
they had recourse to violence. The ladder was overthrown, and the captain and
his companions slain. Once freed from restraint, the passions of the people
hurried them on to the commission of still greater excesses; they attacked the
palace of the patriarch, and yielded only to the military force which the
emperor dispatched to restore tranquillity. The attachment of the troops
enabled the emperor to enforce obedience to his commands; but he did it at the
peril of his throne, and with the loss of a province of his empire. The
defenders of the images fled with the objects of their veneration to the
islands of the Archipelago. There, their fanatic zeal and hopes of assistance
from heaven induced them to collect a fleet, with which they boldly appeared
before Constantinople, for the purpose of hurling the enemy of Christ from his
throne. But as the expected miraculous assistance was not vouchsafed, they were
easily defeated and punished. Italy, however, lay at a greater distance, and
possessed in Pope Gregory II a stronghold, to which the enemies of the
Iconoclasts could flee. The pope renounced all connection with the Byzantine
empire; and, to protect himself against the Greeks and Lombards, entered into
that alliance with the French, which was afterwards productive of such
important consequences. His exhortations and example, together with the
writings of John of Damascus, kept alive the spirit of contention in Byzantium
itself. An earthquake, which in 741, converted many of the most magnificent
cities of Asia and part of Constantinople into heaps of ruins, afforded the
monks an opportunity of representing this calamity as the effect of the wrath
of God at the impious attacks upon the images, and of exasperating the minds of
the people against the emperor, who had rendered himself still more obnoxious,
by the imposition of taxes, for the purpose of rebuilding the cities which had
been overthrown. Such was the situation of affairs at the time of Leo’s death,
which took place in 741. He bequeathed to his son, Constantine V, who had
already been associated with him in the government, the empire, and the task of
executing the measures which he had begun. The Byzantine historians describe
the emperor Constantine as an incarnate devil, they do not allow him one good
quality; and yet, what they themselves relate of his actions, contradicts their
sentence, and is indeed as convincing a proof of the consummate talent of
Constantine, as of the falsehood of the calumnies propagated by his enemies.
The severity and cruelty which he exercised towards a faction which was labouring
for his overthrow, and either defied his authority by open rebellion, or sought
to undermine it by secret intrigues, instead, of being matters of reproach to
the emperor, were, in fact, the mournful consequences of the necessity in which
he was placed, either of giving up his convictions, or of establishing them on
the ruin of his adversaries. The implacable hatred of the monks had manifested
itself at the beginning of his reign, in a way which put it out of his power to
adopt milder measures. The advocates for the use of images had formed
themselves into a political party, and cast their eyes on Artabasdus,
brother-in-law to the new emperor, who secretly favoured image-worship, or at
least professed to do so in order to gain popularity, and thereby the throne.
The suspicions of Constantine were indeed awakened, but he durst not make any
attempt against his brother-in-law in Constantinople, and, therefore, under
presence of needing his advice, ordered him to join him in an expedition
against the Arabs, which he undertook immediately after his coronation. The
guilty conscience of Artabasdus divined the motive of this command, and urged
him to anticipate the emperor. He appeared at the head of an army, and had
almost succeeded in capturing the surprised Constantine. This step rendered the
breach decisive, and whilst Constantine was assembling a force in his native
country, Isauria, for the purpose of repossessing himself of the throne,
Artabasdus was crowned emperor at Constantinople, and immediately restored the
worship of images. The patriarch Anastasius changed his sentiments, and under
Artabasdus defended the images with as much vehemence as he had opposed them
under Leo and Constantine. The civil war which was now breaking out was so
intimately connected with the dispute regarding images, that they must stand or
fall according as the one or the other party should prove victorious. On the
side of Artabasdus was the advantage of a greatly superior force, on that of
Constantine energy of mind and military talents, which compensated for the
deficiency in the number of his troops. The unskillfulness of his adversaries
afforded him an opportunity of attacking them singly : he defeated Artabasdus
himself at Sardio, and his son Nicetas at Ancyra. The same month, September 743, he appeared before the walls of
Constantinople; but, as his adherents within the walls durst not hazard any
attempt to deliver it into his hands, he was compelled to besiege it.
Artabasdus had thrown himself into the capital, and defended it with the
greatest obstinacy, hoping to be relieved by Nicetas,
who was endeavouring to form an army in Asia from the wreck of his party. In
October, Nicetas approached with an armed force, but
was driven back to Nicomedia by Constantine, and there not only defeated in a
general engagement, but himself taken prisoner. The perseverance with which
Artabasdus, notwithstanding this disaster, continued the defence of
Constantinople only delayed his inevitable fate. Constantine took the city by
storm on the second of November, and his enemy, who had vainly attempted to
escape, not long after falling into his hands, he, as well as his son, was
punished by the loss of sight.
Constantine, being once more in possession of the throne, endeavored to
secure it by the total destruction of the opposite party. Search was made for
those who had adhered to his enemy, and all were punished either with death or
mutilation. The contemptible character of the patriarch Anastasius, which
rendered him a useful instrument in the hands of the emperor, saved him from
receiving any other chastisement than that of insult; and he retained the
highest ecclesiastical dignity in the empire. The more reason the emperor had
to dread a political faction in the defenders of images, the more imperative it
became upon him to maintain and propagate his own opinions. The abolition,
therefore, of image-worship was not merely a matter of religious discipline,
but a necessary measure for the security of his person and dynasty. The danger
from which he had escaped had, however, taught him sufficient prudence to delay
the execution of his design until he had restored tranquillity to the
distracted empire, and associated his son with him in the government. In the
year 753, he ventured to hold several Silentia,
in which the decrees against image-worship were renewed and rendered still more
severe. Preparatory to their publication throughout the empire, he introduced
them in those provinces, the governors of which were devoted to his views. The
simplest means would have been to have it abolished by a resolution of a
general council; but as neither Leo nor Constantine could calculate upon the
majority of the bishops being favourable to their system, this method had
hitherto been unattempted.
However ready an individual ecclesiastic may be, when opposed singly to
the temporal power, to submit to its decisions, he assumes a very different
position when the support of a numerous body invested with the right of
examining and determining, raises him above the influence of fear. The spirit
of opposition, which in individuals is dumb from conscious weakness, then
displays itself openly and vigorously. This impediment, so justly to be feared,
seemed, however, to be removed by the death of Anastasius, which left the
patriarchal see vacant. The hope of obtaining the first ecclesiastical dignity
in the kingdom was a bait at which Constantine felt certain the bishops would
catch, and by which they would suffer themselves to be taken. As it was easy to
foresee that the emperor would be guided in his choice of a patriarch, by the
degree of zeal displayed in his cause, he might reasonably look for support
rather than opposition from the bishops, among whom there were few who did not
aspire to the patriarchate. Relying on this circumstance, Constantine summoned
a council at Constantinople, in the year 754, which so well answered his
expectations, that the assembly, consisting of three hundred and thirty-eight
bishops, acceded to his wishes, and adopted them as a law of the church.
Image-worship was rejected as an invention of the devil to allure mankind to a
new species of idolatry, and the emperor represented as an Apostle, inspired by
God himself to frustrate this device of Satan. In conclusion, a curse was pronounced
upon all the worshippers of images, especially upon the former patriarch
Germanus, and the monk John of Damascus.
The emperor had now succeeded in obtaining, in a canonical manner, the
right of suppressing image-worship; and, accordingly, commanded that all images
should be removed from the churches and sacred edifices, but with as little
violence as possible; wishing merely to deprive them of their sanctity in the
eyes of the people, and the adoration paid to them, without denying their merit
and utility as works of art. But it was no easy task to put the decision of the
council into execution. First, as regarded the pope, he was placed at so great
a distance, and was so secure under the protection of the French, that he would
not fail both to persevere in his opposition to the Iconoclasts, and, probably,
widen the breach with the Byzantine court to an irreparable extent. Any attempt
to reduce him to obedience by force would have been as expensive as
ineffectual; no other course, therefore, remained to the emperor but that of endeavouring
to withdraw from him the protection of France, and thus compel him to resume
the relation in which he formerly stood to the empire, if he would avoid
becoming the prey of the Lombards.
For the accomplishment of this purpose, Constantine entered into
negotiations with the French king, Pepin, whom he sought to attach still more
firmly to his interests by proposing a matrimonial alliance between his son Leo
and the princess Gisla, the sister of Charlemagne,
who has already been introduced to the reader as the diligent pupil of Alcuin.
The pope saw and warded off the threatening danger; he frustrated the union, in
order to render his own connection with the French monarch still firmer; and
effected his project with a facility proportioned to its tendency to promote
their common interest. The controversy upon images, therefore, severed one of
its fairest provinces from the Byzantine empire, placed the pope in an
independent position, and laid the foundation of a princely power established
in his own territories, which amply indemnified him for the loss of the
revenues he had derived from Sicily, and also furnished the French king with an
opportunity of obtaining a firm footing beyond the Alps.
It was not, however, in the West only that the spirit of opposition
continued to rage; it still remained unsubdued in the Eastern provinces, and
even in the capital itself, notwithstanding the decision of the council of
Constantinople. The fanaticism of the monks considered no means as unlawful in
the defence of a sacred cause, and feared no punishment which might obtain for
them the crown of martyrdom. Their pious zeal irritated and wearied the
patience of the emperor; and from 761, scarcely a year elapsed wherein we do
not find recorded some act of violence against the images, and of cruelty
towards their worshippers. But as the persecution of individuals only increased
the obstinacy and fury of the rest, the emperor was compelled to subdue
resistance by force. In pursuance of this design, all the bishops were deposed
who refused to subscribe to the decrees of the council. In the year 768, the
monasteries at Constantinople were dissolved, and the buildings either
demolished or converted into barracks. The monks were compelled either to
marry, or to evade the severity of the emperor by a voluntary banishment. These
measures were also extended to the refractory provincial monasteries, and
carried into execution by military force, for the army was devoted to their
victorious sovereign, and attached to his principles. There can be no question
that a commission entrusted to such rough hands was often executed with as
little regard for the preservation of literature and arts, as for right and
justice; but the impossibility of suppressing an exasperated faction, and at
the same time keeping within the bounds of moderation and equity, and the
necessity of exercising severity towards all who refused to comply with the
decree for the abolition of images, which had been regularly issued by a convocation
of the clergy, will sufficiently excuse the emperor in the opinion of every
impartial mind.
Constantine was indebted to the energy of his character, for the
satisfaction of seeing the public worship of images abolished before his death,
and of receiving a guarantee for the future, in the oath taken by his subjects,
that they would never again pay them adoration. This oath would have been
performed, had his successor prosecuted his measures with the same energy and
firmness with which he had adopted them; but Leo IV, who ascended the throne in
775, was of too feeble a character to execute such a task. Under the influence
of his wife Irene, who concealed her veneration for images and monks, that she
might be enabled to promote their interests the more effectually, he annulled
some of the statutes of his father, and mitigated others. The apparent state of
public tranquillity led him into making concessions, which contained the germ
of future disturbances; and by granting the monks permission to return and hold
high offices in the church, he again introduced into the state practices
subversive of the existing order of things. When he discovered the images of
saints secretly adored by his wife, it was too late to repair his error; for,
before he had arrived at any determination on the subject, he died, September
the 8th, 780. Irene, as guardian to her son, Constantine VI, who was yet a
minor, was now entrusted with the reins of government; and nothing but the fear
of resistance, especially on the part of the army, withheld her from
immediately legalizing the introduction of images. She, however, commenced
preparations for this measure by putting a stop to all persecutions, and
placing no impediment in the way of erecting images in various places. At the
same time she made advances to the Roman pontiff, and entered into so close an
alliance with Charlemagne, that she betrothed her son, Constantine VI, to the
French princess, Rotrudis. But, notwithstanding that
she openly displayed her predilection for images, it was long before she
ventured upon taking any decided step.
More than half a century had elapsed since the commencement of the
controversy, so that the greater part of the existing generation had been
educated in the prevailing opinions, and most of the bishoprics were occupied
by men who owed their elevation to their hostility to image-worship. The
empress, therefore, durst not attempt so important a change as the restoration
of image-worship without some plausible pretext. This was immediately afforded by
the patriarch Paul, who, as had been previously concerted, publicly resigned
his dignity. Paul had been appointed to the patriarchal throne by Leo IV, after
he had, in presence of the emperor, solemnly declared himself inimical to
images. In the year 784, he suddenly abandoned the archiepiscopal palace, and
betook himself to a cloister, where he professed to all those who visited him,
either at the instigation of the empress, or from motives of curiosity, that
remorse had driven him from a see, the acceptance of which had excluded him
from communion with other churches, and deprived him of the favour of the
saints; that he could only hope to obtain pardon for his sin by deep
repentance; and that there was no other means of averting the curse which was
hanging over the empire, than that of annulling the impious statutes against
the images. A way was thus opened for the accomplishment of the project which
the empress had most at heart : the execution of which devolved upon the
successor of Paul, whose death occurred in that same year.
Irene took care to render the interests of the church dependent upon her
will, by raising her private secretary, Tarasius, to the patriarchate. The
pliant courtier testified equal readiness to comply with her wishes, by the condition
which he annexed to his acceptance of the highest ecclesiastical dignity,
namely, that a general council should examine anew the lawfulness or
unlawfulness of image-worship. In consequence of a flattering letter of
invitation, Pope Hadrian I sent two nuncios to Constantinople, and, by adopting
the artifice of admitting some ecclesiastics as ambassadors from the patriarchs
of Antioch and Alexandria, the synod assumed the authority of an ecumenical
council. Although the adverse party was unable to prevent the summoning of this
synod, they appeared in great numbers to express their disapprobation, and were
encouraged in their opposition to the court by the veteran troops of
Constantine, who declared themselves ready to protect them, and to defend the principles
of their revered general. When, therefore, the first session was opened in the
Church of the Twelve Apostles, August 7th, 786, the soldiers, who had taken
possession of the church on the preceding day, rose and excited such a tumult
that the patriarch was unable to obtain a hearing, and the empress herself was
compelled to request the assembly to yield to a force which it was useless to
resist, and to break up the meeting. After the departure of the court party,
the Iconoclasts remained in the church under the protection of the soldiers,
and confirmed all the decrees against images.
The failure of this first attempt on the part of the empress, rendered
her aware of the obstacles to be surmounted before she could make a second and
more successful effort. Regardless of the interest of the state, she artfully
contrived to disarm and disband the veterans; and, after having surrounded
herself with a guard of newly levied troops, she summoned, in September 787, a
council at Nice, not daring to trust the citizens of Constantinople. On this
occasion she had the prudence to invite only such bishops as were favourable to
her plans, or who at least showed themselves willing to change their
sentiments. A detachment of the new legions was dispatched thither to be ready
in case of need. Under these circumstances, there could be no doubt as to the
result of the deliberations of the assembly. The resolutions of the council of
Constantinople were refuted and condemned, together with all who adhered to
them, and the worship of images again made an ordinance of the church, with,
however, the nice distinction, that to the saints and images only prostration
of the body was due, whilst the worship of the heart belonged to God alone.
Thence the council removed to the capital, in order there to confirm their
resolutions. In that city also, measures had been so well concerted, that
everything passed off with the utmost tranquillity. Amidst loud acclamations of
joy, the empress, together with her son, subscribed the decree, which, as the
act of an ecumenical council, was to be received as valid by the whole
Christian world. It was, therefore, sent to Pope Hadrian I, in order that he
might communicate it to the sovereigns of the West.
In the West of Europe, a proper position, in relation to divine worship,
had hitherto been assigned to images. They served rather to ornament sacred
edifices, and to deepen the solemn impression which such places are calculated
to make, than to awaken or become the objects of devotion. The predilection for
image-worship, which the Romans had transferred from paganism to Christianity,
was unfelt by the Germans who had adored their former deities, not so much in
artificial representations as in natural objects. Superstition existed
nevertheless among them also, but under a different form. They worshipped the
relics rather than the images of saints, and expected to receive from the
former, what the Greeks hoped to obtain from the latter—assistance in the time
of need, protection in the hour of danger. The decree of the Nicene council was
the less likely to meet with a favourable reception among the Germans, as
prostration of the body, in the Greek sense, conveyed a totally different
meaning to the natives of the West, from that which it imparted to the subjects
of Oriental despotism. The free-born German was accustomed to behold in his
feudal sovereign, only the first among his equals, and to bow his knee to God
alone; whilst the Greek would not think of denying to the saints the homage
which he offered to the emperor. Neither the language nor the habits of the
Western nations accorded with a practice, which, being familiar to the
inhabitants of the Byzantine empire, might be adapted to religious purposes,
without exciting in them any painful feelings. In addition to the aversion of
the Western church to image-worship, the friendly correspondence between the
Byzantine and French courts was at the same time broken off; the blame of
which, indeed, rested entirely with Irene. The ambitious empress was not disposed
to suffer the reins of government to be wrested out of her hands; and the
friends of image-worship, who had everything to hope from Irene, and, on the
other hand, everything to fear from the dubious sentiments of the youthful
Constantine, encouraged her in her purpose of retaining possession of the
throne to the prejudice of her son’s rights. She could not, however, but regard
the projected marriage of Constantine with a daughter of Charlemagne as an
impediment to her design, as it was easy to foresee that the French monarch
would not permit the degradation of his son-in-law. She, therefore, annulled
the contract betwixt her son and Rotrudis, and forced
him to accept an Armenian maiden as a consort. At the same time, she entered
into an alliance with Charles’ enemies, the duke of Beneventum and Prince Adalgis of Lombardy, and endeavored to put an end to the
French influence in Italy, by restoring to the Lombard kingdom its former
constitution, a plan which, as has been already related, entirely failed.
Under these circumstances, it may easily be imagined that the pope found
himself placed in a dilemma, on receiving the resolutions of the Nicene council
for the express purpose of communicating them to Charlemagne. He was aware of
the aversion felt by the French clergy to image-worship, and of the just
displeasure entertained by Charles against a court which had so grievously
offended him. Hadrian had, therefore, abstained from giving him any intimation
respecting the council at Nice, and of the part taken by himself in their
deliberations, but had endeavored to keep him in ignorance of the whole
transaction. Now, however, that concealment was no longer practicable, he
dispatched a copy of the Nicene resolutions to Charles in the year 792. The
French monarch would, at any time, have hesitated to concede to an assembly,
summoned without his knowledge or consent, and in which the West of Christendom
was represented only by two nuncios from the pope, a right to impose laws on
the whole Christian world; but he had now a double motive for refusing to
permit a hostile court to prescribe to him the course he was to pursue. He,
therefore, resolved not to submit to the resolutions of the Nicene council, but
to reject them through the instrumentality of a general council, to be held in
the West of Christendom. He sent a transcript of the acts to England, and
requested Alcuin to refute them, and to procure their condemnation in that
country; then he begged him to return to the continent, in order to be present
at the council, which he proposed summoning to decide upon this matter, and
upon the doctrine of the Adoptionists. Alcuin
composed a treatise, in which he proved that the worship of images was
inconsistent with the doctrines of Scripture, and the authority of the Fathers.
This treatise determined the sentiments of the English princes and bishops :
the Nicene council, though attended and sanctioned by the pope, whose authority
had formerly been undisputed by the Anglo-Saxons, was pronounced to be illegal;
and Alcuin was invested with full powers to impart their decision to the French
monarch.
4.—Decision of the Council of Frankfort upon the Doctrine of the Adoptionists and Image-worship.
Alcuin returned to Charlemagne at the conclusion of the year 792, or the
commencement of the following year, attended, as ambassador of the Anglo-Saxon
church and state, by a retinue of English ecclesiastics. Their presence was
necessary to give the conference, which was about to be held, the authority of
a general council of Western Christendom; for the king’s command could ensure
the attendance of the bishops and abbots residing in all the German states,
which had been Christianized and united under the French sceptre. But Britain
was sufficiently independent of France, to refuse, if she pleased, all
participation in this assembly; and, from her insular situation, so secure, as
to be under no apprehension from the resentment of a king who was destitute of
a navy. That she nevertheless showed herself willing to unite with the French,
is to be attributed to the influence of Alcuin.
Previous to the convocation of the council, Alcuin endeavored to
convince the Adoptionists of their error. He wrote to
bishop Felix, earnestly importuning him to renounce his heresy : “Venture not”,
he exclaims, “to enter upon a useless contest. The truths of the Gospel
illuminate the whole earth. Let us only maintain and propagate the doctrines it
teaches. What can we, frail mortals, amongst so many of whom love begins to
grow cold, imagine better than to adhere to the principles of the Apostles and
Evangelists, with all the firmness and fidelity of true faith, without
inventing new names, bringing forward strange conceits, or desiring to acquire
a vain reputation by some novelty in doctrine, whereby we may bring upon
ourselves censure, whilst we hoped to obtain praise?”. The tone of this letter
was not calculated to produce a favourable result. Alcuin too hastily
presupposed Felix to be in the path of error, and exalted himself above him
with too much arrogance, not to provoke a quarrel. Felix consequently composed
a treatise in defence of his opinions, and in opposition to Alcuin; but before
he had completed and transmitted it to him, the Spanish bishops, who concurred
in the new doctrine, appealed to the justice of King Charles, representing, in
their letters, that their opponents were heretics, whilst they, on the other
hand, only endeavored to uphold the true faith in its purity. Nothing,
therefore, remained to be done, but to refer the matter to the decision of an
ecclesiastical council, which was accordingly summoned by the king, in the year
794. The place appointed for the conference was Frankfort, a royal villa on the
banks of the Maine. This place was then of recent origin, and owed the
foundation of its future splendour to the number of bishops and abbots, and the
vast concourse of lay nobility, who were attracted thither from all parts of
the French kingdom.
The natural consequence of numerous and frequent convocations, and of
the more than usually long residence of the court and its retinue, was to draw
together a number of people, anxious to supply the demands for the commodities
of life which were thus created. Artisans and merchants took up their abode
there for the purposes of trade, and the place being favourable for traffic,
they made a permanent settlement. The frequent mention of Frankfort,
subsequently to the year 794, proves that the prosperity and importance of this
town began and increased with the meetings which were held there. The number of
bishops is said to have been three hundred, in which computation the abbots and
clergy who accompanied them are not included. Many years had elapsed, since the
West of Europe had beheld so splendid an assemblage of church dignitaries as
the present council presented. It is, also, the first which was constructed on
principles which formed henceforth the basis of the political and
ecclesiastical privileges of the West; and therefore the form and manner of its
constitution possess claims to our attention independently of the importance of
the subject of its deliberations. It consisted of the three following divisions
occupied by the members according to their nation and rank. The church of Rome,
which was represented by the Pope’s legates, Stephen and Theophylactus,
naturally took the precedence as guardian of the Apostolical traditions. Next
in order, came the church of Lombardy, at the head of which stood the
archbishop of Milan and the patriarch of Aquileia; the third part was formed by
the Cisalpine clergy. To these three constituent parts, which were of a
spiritual character, was added a fourth, consisting of Charles, as the son and
protector of the holy church of God, and his chief lay nobility; for their
consent was essential, in order to execute by temporal means, that which might
be spiritually determined. To the king likewise, belonged the right of
introducing the matters to be treated of, and of appointing the order in which
they should be brought forward.
Amongst the subjects proposed for the deliberation and decision of the
council, the doctrine of the Adoptionists and the
worship of images came first under discussion; and as it was with these two
points only that Alcuin was engaged, they merit a detailed and exclusive
narrative. Alcuin was recommended to the assembly by Charles himself, and on
this powerful recommendation admitted. It appears that he took with him the
first book which he had written in refutation of the sentiments of Felix, and
in which he had collected the testimony of the Fathers against the new
doctrines. At least, it is certain that he presented it to the Abbot Benedict
of Anian, who was then at Frankfort, to take it home
with him, in order to fortify the clergy of Septimania against the dangerous influence of their heretical neighbours. Neither Felix,
nor any of the Adoptionists, attended the conference
of Frankfort; consequently there was no one to be found who possessed either
the desire or the ability to oppose the testimony of the fathers, the decree of
the pope, and the majority of the bishops, whose adherence to the ancient
doctrine was probably the result more of convenience than conviction. The
decision of the council at Frankfort was, therefore, a ratification of the
sentence of condemnation which had been pronounced two years previously at
Ratisbon. The resolutions of the council were communicated to the Archbishop Elipandus, and the bishops residing in those parts of Spain
which were subject to the Saracens, by means of a document transmitted in the
name of the king; but in consideration of the independent position of Elipandus, it was in the form less of a rigorous command
than an urgent and convincing exhortation.
The principle that so numerous an assembly of the church could not err,
was therein assumed; for if the Lord had promised that where two or three were
gathered together in his name, he would be in the midst of them, could anyone
doubt that he had been with, and enlightened the minds of a venerable assembly
convened for his honour?
The Adoptionists were required to return into
the bosom of the church, and to subscribe the annexed orthodox confession of
faith, or to prepare themselves to be denounced as heretics, and excluded from
communion with that church in which alone salvation was to be found. In this
document, no notice was taken of Felix, because it seemed evident that he, as a
French bishop, must acknowledge the authority of a council summoned by the
king, and ratified by the pope, and submit to its decisions. We shall, however,
presently see that he did neither the one nor the other, but, on the contrary,
brought forward new arguments in favor of his
opinions, which appeared to the king of sufficient importance to call for a
fresh examination.
INDEPENDENCE OF THE WESTERN CHURCH.
For the present, however, the affair seemed to have been settled in a
legitimate way, to the great satisfaction both of the king and the pope. Their
views differed with regard to the decision of the second point—imageworship. Regarded as a matter of religion,
image-worship was an abomination to the inhabitants of Cisalpine Gaul.
Considered in a political point of view, the unreasonable demand of the
Byzantine court, that a council summoned by its authority should be recognized
as ecumenical, and that resolutions adopted in a great measure by military
constraint, should be received as general laws of the church, was a claim which
wounded the pride of the French king. Willing, as Charles might be, to concede
to the pope, as head of a church which inherited the Apostolical traditions, a
superiority in wisdom, and authority in ecclesiastical matters; still the pope
had not been represented at the council of Nice as the head of the church, but
simply as an equal among equals. There, he was no more than any other
archbishop of the Byzantine empire, a rank which was no longer reconcilable
with his totally altered position.
In the course of the controversy upon images, the relation in which he
stood to France, had procured for him so much influence with that nation, and
so important a part in its constitution, that it was impossible for him to
return to his former position with regard to the court of Byzantium, without
causing the utmost confusion. By the reintroduction of image-worship, the cause
of disunion had indeed been removed; but it was not so easy to annihilate
consequences as to annul resolutions, or to restore a state of things, when
once it had passed away, as statues and pictures. It was necessary, therefore,
to substitute a new subject of dissension for the opposition to images, which,
for the moment at least, way terminated. A declaration of independence on the
part of the Western church, in no way affecting the supremacy of the pope,
would prevent him from renewing his alliance with the Byzantine empire, and
lead him by the natural course of events to contribute to the foundation of a
Western empire, independent of the East.
Whilst Charles was endeavouring, at the expense of religion, to
disengage politics from the confusion in which they were involved, he rendered
the most essential service to the papal authority. The defenders of the
interests of the holy see have cause to be dissatisfied with the decision of
the council of Frankfort, only in so far as it rejected a doctrine which has
subsequently become prevalent in the Catholic church. It may, however, afford
them some consolation to know, that the assembled fathers were led astray by
misunderstanding and passion. For in the manner in which Charles had the
subject laid before them, it could not but meet with unanimous opposition and
rejection : but it is difficult to determine whether ignorance of Greek or wilful
misrepresentation was the cause of the misconception. In the first place, the
council summoned by Irene was not acknowledged as ecumenical. It may, indeed,
appear strange, that in the official documents, Constantinople is mentioned as
the place of that meeting; but this change of name is easily accounted for by
the fact, that the legates of the pope were summoned originally to
Constantinople; and when the council, after having commenced its deliberations
in the capital, was compelled to dissolve in consequence of the tumultuous
proceedings of the soldiers of Constantine, they remained, in order to
accompany the assembly to Nice, without requiring or receiving any fresh
credentials. The Synod at Nice was considered by them merely as a prolongation
of that at Constantinople, and the more so as on the breaking up of the
assembly, the members returned to Constantinople for the purpose of procuring
the signature to their resolutions. The less importance is to be attached to
this discrepancy in the names, as, in the first place, it is not entirely
groundless, and in the next place, the fathers assembled at Frankfort were not
ignorant of the real place of meeting. But the resolutions of the Byzantine
council were perverted, and brought before the council at Frankfort in a
hateful form; for, regardless of the distinction made by the Greeks between
worship of the heart and prostration of the body, the very principle, viz.,
that the same reverence was due to images as to the Holy Trinity, which had
been disclaimed by the Nicene council, was represented as the decision of that
body. This principle was naturally denounced as heretical.
It is impossible to avoid suspecting that the king abused his privilege
of propounding the subjects of deliberation, and by a false representation
endeavored to excite the passions of the assembly, and bring them over to his
interests. Although nuncios from the pope were present, and could have
explained to the members that they were under a mistake, it does not appear
that they either did so, or had any authority so to do. The Catholic church,
therefore, can more easily get over the decision of the council at Frankfort,
which was the result of a false statement, than the treatise which appeared in
the name of Charlemagne, justifying the rejection of image-worship. This work
is best known under the title of the Carolingian Papers, and would deserve
especial notice, as one of the most remarkable literary productions of that
period, even were Alcuin not its supposed author. As it attacks in forcible and
vehement language, and not without considerable strength of argument, an object
which has become dear to the Catholic church, it could not remain free from
hostile assaults.
The first printed edition appeared in the year 1549, without the name of
the printer and editor, who did not venture to declare himself; but it is known
that we are indebted for it to Jean de Tillet, a French bishop. It was
immediately reprinted in Germany; but the scarcity of the two first editions
proves how eagerly and successfully the Catholics sought to suppress them.
Fortunately, the Protestants took under their protection a treatise exposed to
such danger, and thus rescued it from the annihilation which threatened it. The
Roman hierarchy, having thus failed in suppressing the work, endeavored, at
least, to cast a suspicion upon its authenticity. Taking advantage of an
external similarity, the Catholics asserted it to be the production of Karlstadt, who, in the beginning of the reformation at
Wittenberg, began, and preached in favour of the destruction of images,
although the contents throughout clearly refuted this statement. It is only
necessary to read the Carolingian Papers, and see how exalted a position is
assigned to the Pope and church of Rome, to be persuaded that so zealous a
reformer as Karlstadt could not have had the remotest
share in such a composition. The sentiments therein expressed, as well as the
language and style, belong much more to the time of Charlemagne ; and no
impartial reader will doubt its genuineness, when to these internal evidences
is added the incontestable historical testimony afforded by a passage in a letter
from Archbishop Hincmar to his nephew, wherein he not
only mentions that he had read the Carolingian Papers, when a pupil at the
court-school, but also quotes an entire chapter from them.
Almost as little doubt can exist, that Alcuin was the author of this
production, as of its authenticity. Whilst in England, he had written a
treatise against image-worship, which he took with him to the council at
Frankfort. He was therefore better entitled than any other man to prosecute the
subject, and was called upon to do so by the confidence of the king, which no
one possessed or deserved in a higher degree than Alcuin. In this work,
abounding in quotations, both from the Fathers and classical authors, we
discern no symptom of a paucity of books, the want of which, Alcuin, some years
later, felt so much in France; which also furnishes a proof, that the greater
part of it was written in England. The style confirms, instead of contradicting
this assumption. But the treatise may so far deserve to bear the name of Charles,
as it is throughout stamped with the impress of his mind. The feeling which he
entertained towards the court and pretensions of Byzantium, transfused its
bitterness into the pen of Alcuin, and led him not merely to expose and
systematically refute the errors of the Nicene council; but also prominently to
exhibit everything that might wound the pride of the empress Irene, or render
the vanity of the Greeks ridiculous. This is apparent in the criticism upon the
letter of Irene, addressed to Pope Hadrian, with which the Carolingian Papers
commence, and likewise in the manner in which the pope is placed in his
relation to the imperial court. The principles avowed in this work are in
perfect accordance with the sentiments of Alcuin, which have already been
expressed, regarding the dignity and infallibility of the papal see. It is
proved by the example of St. Jerome, that in all times the most learned and
enlightened men had not held their own judgment in such high estimation, as to
allow them to dispense with the advice of the pope. The avowal which the author
makes in the name of the king is very remarkable; he declares that he had
endeavored, from the commencement of his reign, to form the Cisalpine churches
on the model of that of Rome, and to establish a perfect unanimity with that
church, to the head of which the keys of heaven were committed. So far, the
advocates for the rights of the Roman church have no reason to complain of a
treatise which satisfies their most ambitious wishes. But the pope had declared
himself the protector of images, and the author of the Carolingian Papers was
decidedly opposed to them. In a series of chapters, he refutes, following step
by step the acts of the Nicene council, the arguments drawn from the Bible in favour
of image-worship. This refutation constitutes a large and important portion of
the work, but requires the less minute description, as it is throughout written
in the style of Alcuin, which has already been sufficiently exhibited. The
Nicene council, for example, had adduced as a proof of the admissibility of
image-worship, that Solomon set up the images of oxen and lions in the temple.
In refutation of this, the author observes, that he himself did not condemn
images when used as memorials or ornaments, but only when they were regarded as
objects of sinful adoration; but as to the images in the Temple at Jerusalem,
it was manifest that the Nicene council had been under the influence of a lying
spirit, when it sought to support its errors by a circumstance which signified
a mystery of the church. For the oxen and lions were symbolical figures of the
apostles, and their successors placed by Christ in his church, who were to
display towards the good and the penitent the patience of oxen, but who were to
exercise towards the obdurate the fury of a lion.
In the third book, the author proceeds from the consideration of the
general testimony of the Holy Scriptures, to the particular decrees of the
bishops forming the council of Nice; and could with the greater facility refute
them both by argument and ridicule, as they were in contradiction not only to
the manners of the West of Europe, but likewise to common sense. It was not
difficult to demonstrate that the reverence paid to the statues of the emperor
was no justification of that shown to the images of saints, but that the one
was as objectionable as the other. If heathen customs were to be adopted in the
churches, then it would soon come to pass that the houses of God would be
turned into theatres, and the abode of peace be filled with the performances of
gladiators. The apostle, however, enjoined us not to take the emperor and the
world for our examples, but said, “Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of
Christ” (1 Cor. XI. 1). “Therefore”, exclaims he, “far be it from the Catholic
religion, that the perverted customs of profligate heathenism should be
imitated and adopted by Christian sobriety”. To various weak points of this
description, which the Nicene council had exposed to attack, by resting their
arguments upon local interests, instead of general and rational principles,
maxims were added which were revolting to the moral feelings. They adduced, for
example, the following anecdote, as an evidence of the lawfulness of imageworship :—A certain monk had been so long and
grievously tempted by the devil to sensual indulgence, that he longed to rid
himself at any price of the torment; and at last, at the desire of his
tormentor, sacrificed to him the worship of images, binding himself with a
solemn oath never again to offer adoration to an image. No sooner did his abbot
hear of this, than he cried out in a transport of rage. “It had been better for
thee to have visited every brothel in the city, than to have denied to the
images of the Lord, or of his Holy Mother, the adoration that is due to them”.
The council at Nice assented to this principle, by inserting the story in their
acts, and by bringing it forward as an argument. “Is not this”, exclaims
Alcuin, or the author of the Carolingian Papers, “is not this an unparalleled
absurdity? a ruinous evil? an insanity wilder than has ever yet been known? It
had been better for him, he says, to have been guilty of an action forbidden
both by the law and the Gospel, than to abstain from that which is commanded by
no law, either human or divine! It had been better for him, he says, to have
committed a crime, than to have avoided a crime; better to defile the Temple of
God, than to despise the worship of senseless statues! Let him tell us, whether
he can anywhere find that the Lord has said, ‘Thou shalt not refuse to worship
images’; whereas, it is known to all the world that he has commanded this,
‘Thou shalt not commit adultery’. Let him tell us, whether he can anywhere find
that the Lord has declared, ‘If thou seest an image and adorest it not, thou hast sinned’; while everyone
knows that he has said, ‘Whosoever looketh on a woman
to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart’.
Whoever attempts to support his assertions by such examples as this, proves
that he possesses folly of no ordinary kind, but that it surpasses that of all
others”.
OPINIONS REGARDING IMAGE-WORSHIP.
The Greeks had carried their opinions both for and against image-worship
to extremes, and consequently supported them rather by sophistry than solid
argument. The author of the Carolingian Papers, on the contrary, had assumed a
moderate position between the contending parties, and was thereby enabled,
unfettered by partiality, to rebut all their fallacies, and expose the absurdities
of their speculations. He often feels himself obliged to reiterate the
declaration that he did not prohibit the possession, but the adoration of
images; that he desired not that men should turn away with disgust from the
images which had been placed in churches either as decorations or memorials,
but that it was the superstitious abuse of them which he condemned. Having
taken this position, the decree of the Iconoclasts at the council of
Constantinople, appeared to him just as reprehensible as the opposite error
into which that of Nice had fallen, whilst the result of his investigation was
recommended by the approbation of Western Christendom, by the assent of the
understanding, and by the authority of one of the most eminent among the Popes,
Gregory the Great. In pursuance, therefore, of the sentence of this pope, it
was enacted as a fundamental law of the Western churches, that images should be
permitted to remain outside the churches, and that it was equally unlawful to
insist upon their adoration, and to consent to their destruction.
Charlemagne transmitted, by the hands of the abbot Angilbert,
the acts of the Frankfort council, together with the work composed in his name,
to Pope Hadrian; requiring him not merely to confirm the decisions of the said council,
but also demanding, with a passionate eagerness, resulting from his personal
feeling of hostility towards the Byzantine court, the formal condemnation of
the Emperor Constantine, and his mother, Irene. This placed the pope in an
embarrassing situation. On the one hand, he durst not be guilty of the
inconsistency of condemning a council to which he himself had sent a legate,
and of which he had approved; and, on the other, it was equally impossible to
refute the arguments, and overcome the aversion of the French clergy as to
dispute the authority of Gregory the Great. This occurrence might easily have
produced a breach between the French monarch and the papal see, had Hadrian not
been a man of too peaceful and estimable a character to sacrifice, to the
passion of the moment, the advantages which the Roman church derived from her
close alliance with France, and the respect and regard which he entertained for
the king. He pursued the line of policy by which the papal power has become so
enormous—that of never attempting to wrest from circumstances what they did not
warrant freely, or, at least, apparently. The Carolingian Papers offered
advantages to the papal see which easily induced him to forget or overlook
those which they refused. The recognition of his supremacy by a general council
of the West, sufficiently indemnified him for a departure from the opinions
which both he and some of his predecessors had cherished, in reference to
image-worship, especially, when, as in this case, the personal authority of
these popes could so easily be secured, by ascribing to their views motives
which coincided with the principles of the Frankfort council. For Hadrian could
excuse the opposition of his predecessors to the Iconoclasts, on the ground
recognized even by that council, that the destruction of images was as great a
crime as their adoration; and exonerate himself on the plea of desiring to
terminate the dissensions between the Eastern and Western churches. This
consideration induced him once more to lay before the king some arguments in
justification of image-worship; but as he at last granted that the views of
Gregory were correct, the king waved his unreasonable demand of a formal
declaration of hostility against the Byzantine court; and thus the clouds dispersed
which had for a while obscured their amicable relation to each other.
The decree of the Frankfort council was confirmed anew by the synod held
at Paris by Louis the Pious, in the year 825, on account of the controversy
which had again arisen in Byzantium, respecting images. But, in process of
time, this subject, as well as others of more importance to the church, lost
its interest; and as the images remained in the churches, and, as it was left
to the conscience of each individual to determine in what light they were to be
regarded, the worship of images, which had been so strenuously resisted by
Charlemagne and his contemporaries, gradually insinuated itself into the
Catholic church. The elements were in existence; and it would have afforded
cause, both for surprise and regret, had they not developed themselves. In a
state of civilization, such as that produced by the exertions of Charlemagne, a
sensible object of adoration was requisite. It is true, that relics afforded
such an object; and in that point of view retained their importance: but,
besides these dark and gloomy objects, images presented themselves in a
brighter and more cheerful light, and maintained the reputation which miracles
had conferred upon them, by miracles. So long as the efforts of art are
principally exercised upon subjects possessing a religious interest, we find,
universally, rude and barbarous conceptions corresponding with religious
narrow-mindedness. An interesting proof of this fact is furnished by the stiff
and uniform figures which constituted the first attempts of the Greek art of
sculpture, as well as by the spiritless pictures of saints and gods, which were
the humble beginning of an art which has since been carried to such perfection.
Art was contented to be the hand-maid of religion, until she acquired an
independent position, and laid claim to an intrinsic interest, besides that
derived from religious association. The sanctity and reputation of miraculous
power belonging to an ancient picture, conferred on it an importance which
would never have been accorded to it as a work of art. But the Jupiter of
Phidias, or a Madonna of Raphael, instead of borrowing splendour from,
reflected a lustre upon religion. In proportion as art had freer scope, and
increased in energy, religious views were expanded; and as religion, by
allowing the use of images, contributed to accelerate the perfection of art, so
she, in her turn, advanced the interests of religion. But this beneficial
result would not have been attained, had the Frankfort council carried their
principle to the extreme; and not only prohibited the worship of images, but
also excluded them from sacred edifices. The plan pursued respecting images
does honor to the intelligence and sagacity of the
men who devised it. The animation of style, ingenuity of argument, and extent
of learning, displayed in the Carolingian Papers, render them a striking
monument of the high state of mental cultivation of that period, and of its
intellectual superiority to the succeeding centuries. It is no slight praise to
them that the Romish hierarchy disputed their authenticity, and ascribed their
origin to a period eminent for intellectual energy, and which, by emancipating
the mind from many of the fetters of prejudice and superstition, facilitated
the progress of religious independence and enlightenment.
5.—Alcuin’s Permanent Settlement in France, and his Participation in the
Complete Suppression of the Doctrine of the Adoption.
Two years elapsed between the period of the Frankfort council and
Alcuin’s permanent settlement in France; during which time, he appears to have
remained in his former relation to the King. At the request of Charles, he
delayed his return to England, without altogether relinquishing the design, and
without suffering his attention to be withdrawn from his native country, the
state of which filled him with the greatest anxiety. The Normans, those bold
navigators, were then beginning to extend their voyages, and to make their
unwelcome descent upon more distant shores. The skilful measures taken by
Charlemagne, deterred them from repeating their fruitless attempt upon the
coasts of his kingdom : but England, divided among weak princes, was a tempting
and easy prey. In the year 793, they landed at Lindisfarne, devastated the
country with fire and sword, profaned the sanctuary, murdered some of the monks
belonging to the monastery of that place, and dragged away others into
captivity. Alcuin was on the continent when this event took place. He regarded
it with more anxiety, perhaps, than others of his contemporaries; for, taught
by the experience of the past, he had a deeper insight into the future. A
comparison between the present state of England, and the condition of Britain
at the time of the invasion of the Saxon pirates, forced itself upon him; and
the similarity which he fancied he discovered, afforded him little consolation.
Every letter, therefore, addressed by him to his friends in England at this
period, contains a warning of the threatening danger, and an exhortation to
maintain internal tranquillity, in order to be able better to repel an external
foe. “Our ancestors”, he writes to the archbishop of York, “although heathens,
acquired possession, with God’s assistance, of this country. What a reproach
would it be to lose as Christians, what they gained as heathens! I allude to
the scourge which has lately visited those territories, which have been
inhabited by our ancestors for nearly 350 years. In the book of Gildas, the wisest of the Britons, we read, that these very
Britons lost their country in consequence of the rapacity and avarice of their princes,
the corruption and injustice of the judges, the carelessness and indolence of
the bishops in preaching, and the licentiousness and immorality of the people.
Let us take heed that these crimes prevail not in our times, that the blessing
of God may preserve our country in that prosperity which his mercy has
condescended to bestow”. He concludes his letter with an exhortation to keep a
vigilant eye upon the morals of the people, that the mournful catastrophe might
be averted which he saw but too distinctly approaching, if the disturbances
which had so often convulsed the kingdom of Northumberland were not speedily
terminated. In order to contribute to the extent of his ability towards the
maintenance of internal tranquillity, he addressed a letter to king Ethelred,
and to the nobles and people of Northumberland, wherein he adduces examples
from the earlier history of the country, to enforce his earnest exhortations;
and endeavored, by depicting hell in the most appalling colours, to deter the
king from injustice, the nobles from sedition, and the people from
disobedience. At the same time he resolved to return to York, that his personal
authority might add weight to his admonitions. He had already obtained the
consent of Charlemagne to this journey, and received from him presents for
Offa, and other Anglo-Saxon princes, when, in the year 796, Ethelred was
murdered. Alcuin saw, with equal indignation and sorrow, that his deluded
country was beyond the aid of exhortation or advice, which he alone could offer;
and therefore abandoned the idea of returning home, and resolved to make France
his permanent abode. This resolution remained unaltered, when, a few months
after Ethelred’s murder, the death of Eanbald I
archbishop of York, which took place on the 29th July, 796, opened to him the
most certain prospect of obtaining the vacant see. There is not the slightest
doubt that he would have been elected, had he accepted tilt invitation which he
received as a member of the church of York. As, however, he conjectured that he
was invited not to assist in the election of another, but to be raised himself
to the archiepiscopal throne, and as he had no desire to purchase, at the
expense of repose, high ecclesiastical dignity, he excused himself on the plea
of sickness and King Charles' absence in Saxony; and merely admonished his
spiritual friends in York to regard merit and worth only, in their choice, and
to beware of simony, a crime which he compared to the treachery of Judas : for
whosoever betrays and sells the church, betrays and sells the Lord Jesus
Christ, with whom it forms one body. Alcuin had the pleasure of seeing his
former pupil, Eanbald II chosen. Had he himself been
ambitious of church preferment, the highest dignity in the kingdom of France
would not have been withheld from him; but his wishes were confined to a
station which would afford the repose necessary to his years and constitution,
enfeebled by sickness, and enable him to devote himself entirely to his favourite
occupations. A residence at court was less adapted to this purpose than the tranquillity
of a cloister; and he therefore requested permission of Charlemagne to retire
to the monastery of St. Boniface at Fulda, and to distribute its revenues,
which had been assigned him, amongst his pupils.
The king did not entirely accede to this request, considering it
unbecoming to suffer a man like Alcuin to live as a simple monk, under the
control of an abbot. But Itherius, late abbot of the
monastery of St. Martin, at Tours, dying at this identical period, the king
appointed Alcuin to his office; thereby providing for him the tranquillity he
desired, and affording him an opportunity of extending his labours for
improving the condition of the clergy and the younger part of the population.
The monks of St. Martin lived in a manner which was anything but becoming their
profession; and Charles knowing Alcuin’s vigour of mind and exemplary conduct,
expected that when the community was placed under his management, the abuses
which prevailed there would cease. We shall hereafter see how far Alcuin
justified these expectations. This section will conclude with a connected
account of his participation in the complete suppression of the doctrine of the
Adoption.
Although he had retired from the world, he had involved himself too
deeply in the controversy, and considered resistance to the new doctrines too
meritorious a work to desist from it. Besides, he had received a personal
affront from his adversaries. Felix had composed a book in answer to the letter
in which Alcuin had exhorted him to abandon his errors, and, having completed
it, sent it first to Elipandus and the other
adherents of his doctrine, and then, by their advice, not to Alcuin himself,
but to King Charles, from whom they hoped to experience more equity and
impartiality. Charles transmitted it to Alcuin, against whom it was chiefly
directed, charging him at the same time to reply to it. As Alcuin, however,
saw, from the tone which the Adoptionists had assumed
towards him, that his arguments alone would make no impression upon them, he
entreated the king to transfer the commission to more suitable persons, at the
same time exhorting him to take more vigorous steps, and use his temporal power
for the suppression of the heresy. “Arise”—he thus concludes his letter,
“arise, thou champion of Christ, chosen by God himself, and defend the bride of
thy Lord! Think how thy enemy would rejoice were thy bride dishonoured! Reflect
that the wrong which thou sufferest to fall upon thy
son, will recoil upon thyself. How much more oughtest thou to avenge with all thy might, the injury and reproach cast upon the Son of
God, thy redeemer, thy protector, the dispenser of all thy blessings! Come
forth valiantly in the defence of her whom God has entrusted to thy guidance
and protection, in order that temporal power may assist thee in acquiring the
treasures of spiritual glory”. This letter is evidently dictated by a spirit of
anger, on which, perhaps the wound inflicted on his vanity had no little
influence. Charles, however, did not comply with Alcuin’s wish of immediately
interposing with passion and violence, but had sufficient forbearance to submit
the matter to another examination. For this purpose, he required Alcuin to
nominate the persons whom he desired to have as his coadjutors in the dispute
with Felix. It is interesting to discover on this occasion, which, amongst
Alcuin’s learned friends in France, enjoyed most of his esteem. He, of course,
first nominated the Pope as being the source of the true faith; then the
Patriarch Paul, of Aquileia, Bishop Richbod of
Treves, and Bishop Theodulph of Orleans. Charles
selected from the names submitted to him, besides the Pope, the Patriarch Paul.
Pope Leo, successor of Hadrian I, proclaimed his sentiments, not by a written
manifesto, but through the organ of a synod of Italian clergy assembled at
Rome. The doctrine of the Adoption was, as might be anticipated, again
rejected, and Charles urgently required to execute a sentence which had been
pronounced for the third time. In consequence of this, the king summoned in May
799, a numerous meeting of the bishops and theologians of his kingdom at
Aix-la-Chapelle, and dispatched Archbishop Leidradus,
of Lyons, to Urgel, to bring Bishop Felix himself by
force. It was insisted upon, that he should here, in person, either prove the
truth of his opinions to the satisfaction of all, or solemnly and penitentially abjure them.
Alcuin was selected by the king to oppose Felix, and to dispute with him
publicly. He had prepared and brought with him his seven books against Felix,
which he afterwards published, and from which we may judge of the manner in
which he handled the subject in the disputation, which was held in the middle
of May. The words of Scripture, taken in their strictest sense, and the decrees
of the fathers, were to him sufficient arguments to refute the new doctrine.
That the name Adoption, is to be found neither in the Old nor the New
Testament, nor yet in the works of the Fathers, ought of itself to have
convinced Felix of his error. “Could God”, asked Alcuin, “produce from the
flesh of a virgin, a real son or not? If he could not, he is not omnipotent; if
he could and would not, then you must give a reason why he has not chosen to do
so. But, if you can tell that, then the will of the Most High God is
comprehensible by the human mind, and the Apostle’s assertion, that God is
incomprehensible, is false”.
In a similar manner, he avails himself of the words of the Holy
Scriptures. When, for example, it is said, that at the baptism of Christ by
John, the voice of God proclaimed “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well
pleased” (Matt. III. 17), Alcuin asks to which person of Christ does this
refer? If the voice refers to Christ as one person, then this one person to
whom the words were addressed is altogether God’s beloved Son, although of two
natures; if it refers merely to the divine nature, then this only was baptized
and not the human nature, for it was to that which had received baptism that
the voice was addressed. But it was not God, but the Man in Christ that was
baptized by John in Jordan; it was therefore the man in him that was called by
God the Father, the Son of God, “upon who, (it is thus that Alcuin proceeds)
“the Holy Spirit also descended in the form of a dove, to prove that he who was
baptized, even he was the Son of God. And on this point the baptizer himself
says : And I saw and bare record that this is the Son of God”.
In a similar strain of argument, and with consummate learning, Alcuin
contended with his opponent at the synod of Aix-la-Chapelle, in the presence of
Charlemagne, numerous prelates and learned men. It is to be regretted that we
are not in possession of the arguments brought forward by the opposite party;
but that they were weighty, and that Felix acquitted himself valiantly this
time, may be inferred from the fact that the disputation lasted nearly a week.
He was, however, ultimately compelled to recant his error a second time, and
abjure it with a solemn oath. The issue of a conflict in which he stood alone
against a host, the advocate of an opinion contrary to the authority of the
fathers, whom his adversary regarded as the sole standard of truth, and by whom
he would have justified any innovation, could not be otherwise than disastrous
to Felix. But as there was reason to doubt the sincerity of his recantation,
and in order that he might be punished for the obstinacy with which he had
defied the authority of the Pope and the council, he was not permitted to
return to his bishopric, but was publicly deposed and consigned to the custody
of the Bishop of Lyons, who assigned him a monastery within his diocese for his
residence. Although Felix here composed and published his confession of faith,
he appears in his heart to have continued attached to his old opinions until
his death, which took place in the year 818. But after the disputation at
Aix-la-Chapelle, he sank into insignificance, and his doctrine was suppressed
in France. It seems, from Charles’ conduct towards the Adoptionists,
that the principle of the priests—that all things are lawful against heretics,
was at that time unknown, or else that Charles was too honourable to admit or
practice it. It was not until after he had allowed Bishop Felix a second time
to defend a doctrine which had once been condemned by its author, and then
rejected by a general council, that he punished him, and that not by the stake,
but by deposition and banishment to a monastery.
The orthodox party being now victorious, could employ the enormous power
of the French monarch against Felix and his adherents on the Spanish frontier,
and enforce their arguments by menaces and violence; but Elipandus cared little for the decrees of the French clergy and councils against his favourite
tenets. His years, and the pertinacity with which old age adheres to its
opinions and prejudices, rendered Alcuin’s attempts to convert him ineffectual.
He wrote to him in the year 799, and transmitted the letter by the envoy whom
the king had commissioned to bring Felix from Spain. He addressed him in the
most affectionate terms, imputing the whole of the fault to Felix; but Elipandus was so satisfied of the truth of his opinions and
the error of his opponents, that he wrote a bitter reply, the offensive
vehemence of which appeared even in the style of the address. In this he calls
him a new Arius, an opponent of the holy Fathers, and hopes if he should be
converted, that he may have everlasting salvation, but if not, eternal
damnation. The tone of this epistle convinced Alcuin that all his efforts to persuade
the old man would be unavailing, but he thought it due to his injured honour
and the well-being of the church, to answer it, “in order”, as he says, “that
the minds of any may not be led astray by the perusal of that letter; for we
have heard that it has fallen into the hands of others before it reached us to
whom it was addressed”. This was the origin of the four books against Elipandus, in which Alcuin again refuted the assertions of
the Adoptionists, by citing passages from Scripture
and the works of the Fathers. That they effected the conversion of the
archbishop of Toledo, is not probable; but he was silenced : and the tempest
which had threatened the unity of the Western church passed away, without
injury to the constitution of the church or state. We must not, however, on
that account, be restrained from considering the contest in all its political
importance, and from ascribing to Alcuin, as the principal and successful
opponent of the new sect, a large measure of the applause due to the preserver
of the tranquillity of the west of Europe.
ALCUIN AS ABBOT OF TOURS, UNTIL HIS DEATH,
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