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BR 162 .N4 1854 A) fans
Neander, August, 1789-1850. |
General history of the
Christian religion and
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GENERAL HISTORY
OF THE
CHRISTIAN RELIGION AND CHURCH:
a FROM THE GERMAN OF
ὑπ εἶ
DR. AUGUSTUS NEANDER.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FIRST, REVISED AND ALTERED THROUGHOUT
ACCORDING TO THE SECOND EDITION.
BY JOSEPH TORREY,
e
PROFESSOR OF MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT
“Let both grow together until the harvest.” Worde of our Lord.
“Les mms Christianisant le civil et le politique, les autres civilisant le Christianisme, il se forma de o¢ mélange un monstre. St. Martine
wh?
VOLUME SECOND:
COMPRISING THE SECOND GREAT DIVISION OF THE HISTORY.
Gighth American Wovrition.
BOSTON:
PUBLISHED BY CROCKER & BREWSTER.
LONDON: WILEY & PUTNAM.
1857,
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. BAMUEL N. DICKINSON, . : s
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@. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
&
Havine, through the kindness of the respected friend
by whom I was first induced to engage in the present
translation, the Rev. Dr. Rosinson, of New York, ob-
tained an early copy of the second, edition of this
volume, I have been enabled to incorporate a great part
of the new matter which it contains with the text of my
translation. The rest has been added in the form of notes’
* at the end of the volume.
The only places in which this translation does not
| exactly accord with the last edition of the original work,
are the introductions to a few of the sections, and the
section generally which relates to the emperor Julian.
_ In the latter case, the difference lies chiefly in the
arrangement of the matter: in the former, I have pur-
posely adhered to the old edition, where the thoughts
are substantially the same, but more briefly and simply
expressed.
With the volume now published, my labors on this
‘great work cal for the present. Should they meet with
aa '
»
4
»
1V TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE.
any such reception as to justify the undertaking, I shall
be ready, with the Divine permission, to resume my task
at some future time.
I must once more express the great obligations which
I feel myself laid under by the Rev. Mr. Tracy of Boston,
without whose invaluable assistance, it would have been
next to impossible for me, situated as I am, to carry this
work, with the necessary degree of correctness, through
the press. After all the care bestowed by him and by
myself, I still observe occasional slight errors in the first
volume. The same thing may occur again also in the
present volume, for which I must ask the reader’s indul-
gence. Asa general thing, I hope it will be found that
the notes and references, upon which I have bestowed
peculiar attention, may. be relied upon as sufficiently
accurate.
J. TORREY.
BuriinaTon, Octoper 1, 1847.
‘
DEDICATED
TO MY BARLY AND FAITHFUL FRIEND,
DR. KARL SIEVEKING, :
SYNDIC OF THE FREE TOWN OF HAMBURG,
OUE COMMON AND BELOVED NATIVE CITY:
IN BEMEMBRANOE OF OUR EARLY FRIENDBHIP, WHICH, HAVING GROWN OUT
cal OF WHAT IS ETERNAL, CANNOT PERISH.
Berlin, September 30th, 1829.
Wirn heartfelt joy, and thankfulness to Him in whose hands our ie is, I now
renew this dedication, April 30th, 1846, to serve as an abiding memorial of that
union of souls which was formed in the enthusiasm of youth for the whole of life,
and which, with God’s help, shall endure, under all diversities of outward condition,
down to the grave and beyond it.
ἣ, » _ A. NEANDER.
?
DEDICATION OF PART II.
TO THE VERY REVEREND ABBOT
DB Gi do Pew Oks,
ON THE DAY OF THE SEMI-CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF HIS
INDUCTION INTO THE SACRED OFFICE.
Beloved and highly respected Instructer,
WILL you, on this day, when so many doubtless will unite in showing you
the testimonies of their love, esteem, and gratitude, also receive, with your usual
condescension, this expression of his hearty, inextinguishable thanks, from an old
pupil who presents you a gift, which, insignificant as it may be to you, is yet, from
is own position, the best he has to offer. Though with many things in this book
ou may not be satisfied, still you will not fail to recognize, in his earnest endeavors
to be charitably just, the pupil who, from the great master himself to whom he is
under so many obligations, first learned to strive after the suum cuique in his con-
struction of historical facts. And with your own candid justice, which, ennobled
by the spirit of charity, has been tried through half a century, you will know how
to place the right estimate on each of your pupils who with earnest intentions
labors on af his own position. Therefore it is, that I confidently rely on your
indulgence in offering you this token of grateful love and respect.
Praise be to God, who gave us you to be our instructer, and who has preserved
you to us so long: and long may he still preserve you, honored teacher, to shine
as a light before us by your precepts and your example.
This, on this day, is the warmest wish of your affectionate and grateful
pupil.
᾿ A. NEANDER.
δ΄ ἃ
“ 7
VOR π. (ὦ a*
PREFACES ΤῸ THE FIRST EDITION.
PREFACE TO PART I.
I HERE present to the public the first part of the second volume of my Church
History, containing the first two sections, as the second part will contain the next
two following ones. I-still hold to what I expressed in the. prefaces to. the several:
parts of the first volume.
As it regards the notion’ of the invisible church, which seems in my _ history
to have given offence to many Catholic theologians, and to others, it will without.
doubt still continue to be the fundamental principle in this history of the church;
as indeed it must, in my opinion, give the direction to every right treatment of
church history generally. It will constantly be my endeavor to trace, and
wherever I can find it, to seize and exhibit, with a charitable zeal, the manifes-
tations of this truly catholic, invisible church, both among the orthodox and among
heretics, and honestly to distinguish it from every thing that does not proceed out
of the essence of this invisible church.
Critical remarks, carefully written, on those particular portions of my work to
which I have devoted myself with a peculiar affection, and hence with a propor-
tional degree of fulness and originality, would be thankfully received by me, nor
should 1 fail to avail myself of all they might afford me in improving this work,
which hereafter it will be my endeavor to perfect as I have opportunity ; and I
take this opportunity to express my grateful acknowledgments to Dr. Gieseler for
a critique of this sort on my account of Manichzism.
BERLIN, JUNE 27, 1828.
PREFACE TO PART II.
In presenting to the public the second section of the second volume of my Church
History, I think it necessary only to add the following remarks to what I have
already said in the earlier prefaces.
I have supposed it would contribute to the reader’s convenience as well as to
my own, to separate here also the rich materials into two different sections. The
plan, perhaps, will be found to be justified by the execution. : ᾿
In the first volume, I placed the history of Christian Anthropology after the
history of the doctrine of the Trinity. But as the controversies on the doctrine of
the Trinity are, in the present period, so closely connected with the controversies
concerning the two natures in Christ, I have thought it best to abandon that
arrangement here, and to place the history of the doctrine concerning the person
of Christ immediately after the history of the doctrine of the Trinity. »Further-
more, I doubtless might have concluded this section with the history of the doctrine
of the Trinity; and this arrangement was recommended by various consider-
ations ;—-but as the commencement of the history of the doctrine concernin
Christ’s person is, in this period, so closely connected with many views that had
ἂς aa bes es
‘PREFACES TO THE FIRST EDITION. vil
᾿ >.2 ’
Εν i
been developed in the history of the doctrine of the Trinity, and they mutually
serve to explain and to integrate each other, I preferred rather to include the
latter also in this section.
The judgment of all unprejudiced friends of the truth, whether favorable or
otherwise to my own views, and whether relating to my general scope and design,
or to any particular points I have touched, will ever be welcomed by me. As to
the criticisms of those who are leaders or slaves to schools and parties, I despise
them. Popery of all sorts is my abhorrence,— whether it be a state-church, a
doctrinal, a pietistic, or a philosophic, an orthodox, or a heterodox popery. May
the Lord preserve in his church the liberty he has achieved for it; and may none
who are his disciples, suffer themselves to be the slaves of any man or of any
human mind.
Of those who undertake to criticise this work as a whole, I must of course beg,
that they would reserve their judgment respecting the arrangement of the several
parts of this section, until the whole is completed.
Bern, Sept. 30, 1829.
PREFACE TO PART III.
Wiru thanks to Him who has enabled me to proceed thus far with my work,
I here present to the public the completion of its second great division.
I have prosecuted my design thus far from the point of view which I set forth in
the preface to the first volume; and from the same point of view, which has been
the result of my life and studies, I shall go on to complete the work; so far as I may
be enabled to-do so by the Divine goodness. This point of view is with me firmly
established, whatever may be objected to it by those who are wont to regard all
history as merely the sport of human caprice, and to explain the greatest effects
from the most trivial causes, or who think themselves able to measure the develop-
ment of the divine life in humanity, and to reach the depths of man’s soul and
spirit, by certain pitiful dogmas of the understanding, to which every thing else
must be forced to bend. That any irreconcilable opposition exists between an
edifying and an instructive church history, is what I shall never be disposed to admit.
Edification can proceed only from the clear exposition of truth. Whatever, by
the investigation of science, is shown to be a delusion, ceases from that very moment
to be a source of edification. Ill would it fare with the practical business of edifi-
cation, if it were incompatible with the free and enlightened views of the spirit.
The truth, which is a witness to the power of the Godlike, cannot, if rightly appre-
hended, be otherwise than edifying; nay, the less vitiated it is, the more edifying
must it become. Nor is it necessary that the bad should be passed over in silence
or concealed out of view: for, without the knowledge of that too, as it is, God’s
judgments in the history of the world and the progressive triumphs of His king-
dom in its conflicts with evil cannot be understood. The progress of Christianity
cannot be learned without separating from it whatever has proceeded from foreign
influences. Ina word, there can be no true and genuine history of the kingdom
of God, which is not accompanied side by side with the history of the kingdom of
evil. But to be sure, the truth alone, which is its own witness, should here, as it
instructs, also edify ; which it certainly will do with the more purity and efficiency
in proportion as the subjective character of the historian, faithfully open to the self-
revealing spirit of Christianity, serves as the organ of it. This is the objectivity
which I aim at; and in those cases where my own subjective views and feelings
have intruded, as no doubt they have often done, I shall always be ready to
acknowledge the fault, and seek to correct it. Thus much in reference to the
κυρίαις δόξαις belonging to the various tendencies of the spirit of the age: and
now, according to the measure of knowledge which God has bestowed, or may
bestow on me, 1 shall quietly pursue my way, unconcerned as to what may be said
on this side or on that.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
I have, in this volume, interwoven the history of the more eminent church-
teachers into the history of the doctrinal controversies, both for the sake of clear-
ness and vivacity, and also to save room—hence there is no particular section
devoted to the teachers of the church. ἡ
In that section particularly which treats of Chrysostom, I have confined myself
within narrower limits, because a new edition, improved and enlarged, of the first
volume of my Chrysostom is shortly to appear.
In my exposition of the system of Theodore of Mopsuestia, which is so inter-
esting a subject, I would very gladly have availed myself of his Commentary on the
Minor prophets— a work of great importance in its bearing on the history of the
peculiar tendencies of the theological spirit, and one which has been long due to
the public. May my friend Von Wegnern of Konigsberg, instead of disappointing
our hopes like Majus, soon give us the pleasure of seeing an edition of this
important work.
JUNE 4, 1831.
PREFACH TO THE SECOND EDITION.
My duty to the public and to this work, which I undertook in obedience to an
inward call, demands of me, that before issuing the volume which carries the
history of the church down to the times of the Reformation, I should prepare a new
edition of the second great division, — the first having long since been disposed of.
In doing this, I am bound thankfully to avail myself of all the new light which has
been thrown on the history of the dissemination of Christianity by our own great
master, C. Ritter, by Professor Neumann of Munich, and by Professor Waitz of
Kiel. A considerable part of the matter in the section which treats of the emperor
Julian, and of the relation of the later New-Platonism to Christianity, will need to
be remodeled ; as also in the section which treats of Jovinian. Also, in other parts
of the work, I must endeavor to introduce improvements in the matter, but more
especially in the form of many scattered passages. Critical remarks, with the
scientific grounds on which they are based, I shall ever estimate at their just value.
The revilings of party passion I know how to despise, and vulgarity I shall leave
to punish itself
A. NEANDER.
BERLIN, APRIL 20, 1846.
[The rest of this preface is a beautiful and affectionate tribute to the memory of
Hermann Rossel, the young friend of Neander, whom he notices in one of the
prefaces to the first volume, and who died the same year (1846) in which this new
edition passed through the press. TZranslator.]
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
VOLUME SECOND.
SECOND PERIOD OF THE HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
FROM THE END OF THE DIOCLESIAN PERSECUTION TO THE TIME OF GREGORY THB
GREAT, BISHOP OF ROME; OR FROM THE YEAR 312 TO THE YEAR 590,
SECTION FIRST.
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH TO THE WORLD. ITS EXTENSION AND
LIMITS, p. 1—129.
Within the Roman Empire, 1—103.
Relation of the Roman Emperors to the Christian Church,1—84.
Import of the edict of Galerius ......sssseeeeeeeeseeeescceccedaes Ἶ
Mazximin. His measures in relation to the Christians. Favor shown to
Paganism. Means adopted for its restoration, (Acta Pilati.) Last effu-
sion of blood in consequence of the Dioclesian persecution -----++-++++
Constantine. His early history and education. Resides while a youth
at the courts of Diocletian and of Galerius. Becomes Augustus, A-D.
306. Offers in the temple of Apollo, at Augustodunum, A.D. 308.
Makes his public declaration in favor of Christianity, after the victory
over Maxentius, A.D. 312. Legend respecting the vision of the cross.
(Examination of the evidence in support of it, and of the various
theories in explanation of it. Result.) ---+.0+s.seee eee ee eee enone
First religious edict of Constantine and Licinius. Restrictive clause in it.
Second edict, (313,) introducing a general and unconditional liberty of
conscience. Influence of this law of the two emperors on Maximin.
Edict of the latter. A later and still milder rescript --.........-- +.
Constantine and Licinius sole rulers. Death of Constantia. Growing
hostility of Licinius to the Christians. War betwixt the two emperors,
(323.) Preparations of Licinius. Constantine’s reliance on the sign
of the cross. Constantine victorious, and sole ruler ---+.+.++.- eee
Constantine’s directions respecting the Pagan cultus. His tolerance of
the Pagans. His law of the year 321. Indications of his relapse into
Pagan superstition. His proclamation to the provinces of the East.
Letter to Eusebius of Cesarea. Explanation of his conduct. His self-
deception. Flattery bestowed on him by the bishops at his court---+«
Constantine’s wish to unite together all his subjects in the worship of one
God. His tolerance. Causes heathen temples to be destroyed in
Phenicia and Cilicia. Grounds of this proceeding. Its effects on
different classes of Pagans +-+++++eee- sie lajale'elélaleieielelcteswleict® aves ese
New prohibitions by Constantine. Law forbidding idols and idolatrous
sacrifices. Rules for the army — (for the soldiers, Christian and Pagan.)
Constantine resorts to every outward means, except force, to promote
the extension of Christianity. His words to the Council of Nice.
Hypocrisy ΘΕ ΘΟΕ ΘΟΗΜΙ τοῖς ἐς, te heed ne ce ce sseeecenesteveces
5—12
12—16
16—19
19—23
23—26
ν᾿ 4
x TABLE OF CONTENTS.
ae ᾿
Constantine still a catechumen in the sixty-fourth year of his age. Re-
ceives baptism from Eusebius of Nicomedia, a short time before his
death, (373.) Reasons for deferring baptism. Story among the Pagans
respecting the cause of his conversion. Reasons for suspecting its truth.
General truth in it -+++scceccsees eccceece Bic cece cc cce sree rscces
His successors: Constans, Constantius, Constantine. Law passed by the
two latter, A.D. 346, for the extirpation of Paganism. Laws against
nightly sacrifices, (353.) “Persecutions of Paganism. (Yet, for the pur-
pose of preserving the national antiquities, the emperors forbid the
destruction of the temples.) Several of the Christian clergy opposed
to the employment of forcible measures. Others in favor of it. The
flatterer Maternus:+--+-+esccecscsscccees Risse sc cece csclevccccces
Way opened for the reaction of Paganism. Attempts to revive Paganism.
Julian. Early training and formation of his character. His destina-
tion for the spiritual order. Residence at Constantinople. His in-
structor Ecebolius. Continuation of his studies in Nicomedia. His
connection with the Pagan party. Influence exerted upon him by the
philosopher Maximus. Julian conceals his opinions. His studies in
Asia. His companions in Gaul: Oribasius — Sallust ----++++++++0+-
Julian emperor. Assumes the office of Pontifex Maximus. Attempts to
restore the worship of images. Julian’s defence of images. His ideas
of the priesthood, and of the business and occupation of priests. Bor-
rows many things from Christianity. His laws for the priests. Restora-
tion of the Pagan sanctuaries. Injustice in this transaction. Interces-
sion of Libanius in behalf of Christians. Attempts to gain proselytes
to Paganism by means of money and posts of honor. Julian’s views
concerning Judaism. His attempt to rebuild the temple of Jerusalem-
Julian’s behavior towards the Christians. His tolerance. Reasons of it.
Covert attacks by the emperor. Julian’s edict, granting equal freedom
to all the church parties. His motives in this. Edict recalling the
bishops. Julian’s behavior towards Athanasius. The emperor resorts
to unworthy tricks. Forbids Christians to teach ancient literature.
Sophistical defence of this prohibition. Permission given for Christian
youth to attend the Pagan schools. Proresius and Fabius Marius
Victorinus resign their posts as rhetorical teachers. Labors of the
learned Syrians: Apollinaris, father and son. Julian prejudiced
against bishops educated in the Grecian schools: 6. g. Basil, Gregory,
etc. His behavior towards Titus, bishop of Bostra, in Arabia. His
mildness towards inimical Christian bishops. Outbreak of Pagan fury
against the Christians in Alexandria. Julian’s mild treatment of the
insurgents. Persecutions of Mark of Arethusa--+++-+++++++eesseees
Julian in Antioch. His zeal in the Pagan worship. Julian hated among
the Antiochians, — especially on account of his restoration of the
temple of Apollo. The bones of Babylas, the martyr, exhumed.
Julian celebrates the festival of Apollo Daphnicus. Burning of the
temple of Apollo leads Julian to adopt harsh measures. Repeated in-
tercessions of Libanius in behalf of the Christians. Julian’s journey
to Syria, in his campaign against the Persians. His death, A.D. 363--
Advice of Gregory Nazianzen to the Christians. Jovian grants universal
religious liberty. Speech of Themistius to the emperor:-+-+-++-++++++>
Valentinian. His tolerance conduces to the spread of Christianity.
(Heathenism—Paganismus.) --+-+++++- ἢ αὐ β ων ἰδία ΑἸ τς ΠΩ
Valens. Address of Themistius to him-+-++++++++++ ceeeeee se eeeeeee
Gratian declines taking the office of Pontifex Maximus. Refuses to grant
an audience to the Pagan delegates +++ ++seeeeeereeeeerteeer cece
Valentinian II. Grants an audience to the Pagan party, represented by
the prefect Symmachus. Symmachus opposed by Ambrose, bishop of
Milan ee ΞΟ. ra eee Bem e meee sere sree ences
Theodosius. Yn his reign, Chrysostom composes his book on the martyr
Babylas. Laws of the emperor against Paganism. Wild bands of
PAGE
»
28—80
Ψ
30—35
35—41
41—51
51—61
61—66
67—69
69—70
70
70—71
71—78
-
΄-
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
monks go about destroying the temples. Inconsistency of the em-
eror. Suppression of the Pagan worship by the prefect Cynegius.
ontest betwixt the Christians and the Pagans at Alexandria. Theo-
ilus exposes the sacred things of the Pagans to the sport of the
people. Insurrection of the Pagans. Edict of Theodosius, in con-
sequence of these disturbances. Destruction of the temple of Serapis.
Destructive fury manifested by Marcellus, bishop of Apamea. Laws
of the year 391, and of the following year ---...... cree eee tee
Arcadius. Gradual increase of severity against the Pagans of the East.
Porphyry of Gaza. Eudoxia. New law of the year 423. Pagan-
ism cherished in secret. The Pagan philosopher Proclus-..---.--+
Justinian. Persecution of the Pagan philosophers. T hey fly to Persia
Polemical writings of the Pagans against Christianity — general charges
which they brought against it— manner in which these charges were
met by the teachers of the Christian church. 84—93.
Polemical writings of the Pagans. Julian. Finds contradictions in the
New ἜΘΕΙ ΟΣ ΘΠ)» φ γον caqetamajanside Sader. ρους ΠΡ, dow . ashen,
The dialogue Philopatris. Ridicules the Christian doctrine of the
Trinity «00 0escececccceed ifaiZejelsiays’ οἰῶ οὐὸ τὸν οὐ ἢ πε! υϑὔὖώ. σὲ aie sewn e old
Pardeular objections of the Pagans to Christianity and the Christians.
Charges laid against the conduct of the Christians and against Chris-
tian princes. Reply of Augustin. Pagan objections to Christian
doctrines. Work of Orosius, in reply to the objections of Eunapius
and ZoOsimus. « «'s 0.6 <0 0 as gd leh oialaieisielevesialorsiela sieiclsie cers sale dis 6 cas cee
Various obstacles which hindered the progress of Christianity among the
heathen — means and methods by which it was promoted — different
kinds of conversion. 93—103.
Hindrances to the spread of Christianity. Pagan superstition, Pagan
self-sufficiency. Some seek repose in New Platonism. Outward
means of expiation. Longinian. Different classes of Pagans. The
partially educated. Against these, Augustin and Theodoret. Pagan
views concerning the necessity of different religions. (Simplicius —
Proclus — Themistius— Symmachus.) Relation of Christianity to
this way of thinking- BMpMaele s, cieleval-e\ele}s} svellalny'ei'stcichele etete σον iceule
Different ways in which Pagans were converted. Numbers of formal
and nominal Christians. Gross worldly motives, the source of hypo-
critical conversions. More or less of intentional deception. An
uneasy state of conscience conducting to Christianity. Insincerity
of Christian ecclesiastics. Sophistical defence of superficial conver-
sions. Combatted by Augustin. New Platonism leads to Chris-
tianity. (Augustin — Synesius.).--.++eseeeeeceesececcetaecece
Extension of Christianity beyond the limits of the Roman empire.
103—129.
Its spread in Asia.
Persia. Constantine recommends the Christians to the protection of
Sapor, in Persia. Persecution of the Christians in Persia. Principal
persecution in 343. Occasion of it. Objections of Persian magis- —
trates to Christianity. Proclamation of Mihr-Nerseh. First order
of the Persian emperor. Simeon, bishop of Seleucia — his letter to
the emperor. Second imperial decree. Simeon declines paying
homage to the sun. Martyrs: Guhsciatazades, Simeon, Phusik.
Continuation of the persecution till 344. Activity of Maruthas,
bishop of Tagrit — favorable to the Christians. Imprudent conduct
of Abdas, bishop of Suza, in destr ying a fire-temple. New perse-
cution beginning A.D. 418. The martyrs, Jacobus, Hormisdas, and
others. Theodoret’s letter to the bishop Eusebius, in Armenia.
73—78
78—83
83—84
93—97
97—103
xu TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Flight of the Christians into the Roman empire leads to a war.
Acacius of Amida. Schism betwixt the churches of the Persian
and of the Roman empire (in the fifth century)+++-++eeseeeeeseee
Spread of Christianity in Africa.
Abyssinia. Meropius, with Adesius and Frumentius, comes to that
country. Frumentius ordained bishop of Auxuma by Athanasius.
Theophilus visits that city. . Constantius persecutes Frumentius, as
being a disciple of Athanasius. The Abyssinian king, Elesbaan,
takes part with the Christians in Arabia. Christianity on the island
Of SOCOtOra «cece eccrccrecscrececesscccecsscscrencccsccccene
Spread of Christianity in Europe.
Ireland. Founding of the Christian church in that island by Patricius.
Account of his life. Residence in Ireland, in Gaul. Return to his
country. Whether Patrick was commissioned from Rome. Labors
of Patrick among the country people and the chiefs. (Benignus.)
He founds Irish monasteries. Provides for the education of the
eople o else ayaisislele so wlsjelseterele © olen ὁ wi'e!e eieilereie'@ oie 'eibite, alle; seis) ὁ. ὁ, δ᾽ δ᾽ δὲν
PAGE
103—118
1 13—1 14
114—116-
116—117
117—119
119—121
121—125
Goths. Receive Christianity by occasion of their wars with the Roman .
empire. Theophilus, a Gothic bishop. Ulphilas. His efforts in be-
half of the Goths. ‘Time of his appearance in the reign of Constan-
tine. Reports concerning Arianism among the Goths. Athanasius. -
on their conversion. Martyrs among the Goths. . Missionary institu-
tions established by Chrysostom. Invites Goths to preach in Con-
stantinople. The Gothic clergy cultivate biblical studies. West:
Goths. Alaric in Rome, A.D. 410---+--- Sabo Wish © ο τὴν ake 0 9 κα τόν tere die
SECTION SECOND.
HISTORY OF THE CHURCH CONSTITUTION, CHURCH DISCIPLINE,
SCHISMS OF THE OHURCH, 130—222.
I. History of the Church Constitution, 130—178.
I. Relation of the Church to the State, 180—146.
General Remarks.
New relation of the church to the state. Advantages and dangers
accruing from it to the church. The church calls upon the state for
assistance in the promotion of its objects. Causes of this great
change: the conversion of the Roman emperor to. Christianity.
Emperor’s views of the church constitution. . Constantine. Τὰ what
sense he styled himself an Ἐπίσκοπος τῶν ἐκτὸς τῆς ἐκκλησίας. Calling
of general councils by the emperors. Publication of their decrees
by imperial authority. Influence of the emperors on the councils.
4
125—129
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
(Constantine at Nice. Theodosius II.) Isidore of Pelusium. In-
dividuals opposed to the confounding together of things spiritual and
things secular. (Hilary of Poictiers.) Of no avail against the spirit
of the times. The emperors decide doctrinal disputes by command.
Basiliscus, Zeno, Justinian. Independent development of the
Western Church-..-.......... almiajekaielals Bisis paiktnce oa See ween eee
Relation of the church to the state in particular things. The state takes
some part in providing for the support of the churches. Churches
authorized to receive bequests. Numerous presents to the churches.
Abuse of this permission. Jerome on this point. Other bishops
renounce this right. Augustin nile /e(e ἀνε να αν ας piel diese disin as in\'a0/¥¥s,41 1.210
Benevolent Institutions. Public charities for strangers, for the poor, the
old, the sick, and for orphans. The Basilias. Alms-houses in the
country. Care of Theodoret for his flock - - - - τ +++++++++eee seen
Privileges bestowed by the State. Exemption of the clergy from all
public burdens, (muneribus publicis.) Law of Constantine, A.D.
819. Evils resulting from it. Great flocking to the spiritual office.
Limitations of the law, A.D. 320. This restriction evaded -----.--
Judicial authority conferred on the bishops. Advantages of this ar-
rangement. Complaints of the bishops. Self-denial of Augustin - -
Intercessions of the bishops. Decrees of the council of Elvira, (305,)
of Arles, (314,) respecting the administration of civil offices. Am-
brose and Studius. Intercessions of Basil of Cesarea, of Flavian of
Antioch, of Theodoret. Advantages of these intercessions in times
of despotism. ἜΗΝ ANGE ADUSES a «bia, τος fs forbieissevere ὦ 5755 οἱ oehestyels, © NAS
Churches used as asylums. The ecclesiastical usage limited by Eutro-
pius, A.D. 398. Chrysostom. Behavior of certain slaves who fled
to a church under the reign of Theodosius II. Law in favor of
asylums, ASI), CAST wine ein Ὁ τ πο δον palsieisjelu;le/<isin/ajaiets ata s sl ein¥a!eatefelsle aie
Internal Organization of the Church, 146—148.
Central point of the theocratic system of the church, the idea of a
priestly caste. False view of opposition between things secular and
spiritual. Celibacy. Laws of the council of Elvira, in 305 ; of Neo-
Cesarea, in 314, and of Ancyra, in 314, relating to this subject.
Proceedings at Nice. Paphnutius. The old custom retained, that
only ecclesiastics of the first three grades, after having been once
ordained, should not remarry. The more liberal council of Gangra.
Custom of married bishops to forsake the marriage relation. Excep-
tions, like that of Synesius, still to be met with in the fifth century.
Ecclesiastical law by Siricius, bishop of Rome, A.D. 385. Jovinian
and Vigilantius er ον eee ee eee Sere ese sere reser seeerere
Education of the spiritual order. Reliance on the supposed magical
effect of ordination, Want of institutions for theological education.
Theological school at Antioch. Attendance on the schools for gene-
ral education. The cloisters, as seminaries for the clergy. Educa-
tion of the clergy under the care of individual bishops - - - “5551.
Intrusion of the unworthy into spiritual offices — against which decrees
of councils avail nothing. (In the West, the case better.) Partici-
ΕΣ of the laity in elections. Form of election. Strife after
ishoprics in the capital cities. Decrees of councils against the
transfer of ecclesiastics of little avail; but are strictly carried out
130—135
135—136
137
1387—139
1389—140
140—144
144—146
148—149
149—151
by Damasus of Rome. Orders forbidding the bishops to be absent
from their communities, or to reside at court -++++++e.eeeeeeee ees
Progress of the episcopal power towards the monarchical form. Prerog-
atives of bishops: ordination, confirmation, ete. (Chrysostom and
Jerome in favor of the originally equal dignity of bishops and pres-
byters.) Presbyters distinguished above the deacons. Office and
number of the deacons. Influence of arch-deacons. Deaconesses.
Their ordination — at a later period, considered offensive. Laws of
VOL. Ika b
151—154
xiv TABLE OF CONTENTS. .
the Western church against their appointment. In the East, they
continued to exist for a longer time -++-+-+++++++eseree rere a eee
New church offices : Οἰκόνυμοι, ἔκδικοι, notarii, parabolani, (numerous in
Alexandria, ) Komlatate+eeeeee ee eee ee .
Chor-bishops. Restriction of their power. Councils of Sardica and
Laodicea abolish the office; the latter substitutes in their place the
περιοδευταί. Traces of country-bishops in later times - τ τ τ τ τσ τ τσ
City churches. Head churches and filial churches. Their relation to
each other at Constantinople and at Rome ---+++++++++++s+sseer
Metropolitan Constitution. Further development of it. Provincial
synods codrdinate to the Metropolitan: -+-++++++++eeseereeereeee 3
Patriarchal Constitution. Sixth canon of the council of Nice. Exarchs,
next Patriarchs. In the beginning, at Rome, Alexandria, Antioch —
next at Constantinople (on account of its political importance) and
Jerusalem. Spirit of freedom in the North-African church, — their
declaration at Hipporegius, A.D. 393. Patriarchal constitution pre-
pares the way for the papacy Pe eC i aC a
Rome. Rufinus’s explanation of the sixth canon of the Nicene council.
Wealth and political importance of Rome. (Theodoret’s letter to
Leo the Great.) In addition to this, came the idea, assumed as a
fundamental principle by the people of the West, that the unity of
the church must necessarily have an outward representation, which
was supposed to be realized in the cathedra Petri, at Rome. Progress
of this idea, especially in the church of North Africa. Optatus of
Mileve. Augustin. (His exposition of Matth. 16: 18. ‘Two dif
ferent points of view confounded together by him in considering this
subject as well as others.) Yet the Africans are unwilling to concede
all the consequences following from this position. The Roman bishops
consider themselves the successors and representatives of Peter.
Leo’s letter to Anatolius. .Innocent to the North-Africans, A.D.
417. Leo to the Illyrian bishops. More favorable situation of the
Roman church compared with the church of the East. More inde-
pendent of political influences. Rome, the sole Patriarchate of the
West. Greater tranquillity of doctrinal development in the West.
The Eastern parties appeal to Rome — this advantage improved by
the Roman bishops. ‘The three decrees of the council of Sardica.
Confounding of these with the decrees of the Nicene council. Gra-
tian’s declaration in favor of Damasus. Hilary of Arles and Celi-
donius. Leo’s arrogant claims. Recognition of them by Valentinian
IIl., A.D. 445. Spirit of freedom continues to be maintained in the
North-African church. Councils of Carthage in 407 and 418, against
appealing to any jurisdiction beyond the sea-------+++++++++5 sas he
General councils. "Their object. Description of them by Gregory of
Nazianz. Augustin’s theory of councils. Christianity opposed to
the requisition of a blind obedience to human authority. F’acundus
of Hermiane. Other objects of the councils. Decretals and canons
of the councils collected by Dionysius Exiguus, (after the year 500,)
Il. History of Church Discipline, 178—182.
Persons convicted of gross offences, excluded from the fellowship of the
church. (In case of sincere repentance, none refused the com-
munion in the hour of death.) Different classes of penitents. Con-
ditions of readmission. Difficulties attending the application of the
principles of church penance — partly in the case of schisms, partly
penance eereeee Pr τ οοοοοτοοοοοοοοοοο 4.949 ςοἰονοοοοο. ΠΣ.
PAGE
154—158
158—159
159—160
161—162
162
4.
162—165
,’
165—175
175—178
178—182
» TABLE OF CONTENTS. xv
; PAGE
Il. History of Church Schisms, 182—222.
Donatist Schism, 182—217.
Important as representing the contest betwixt Catholicism and Separatism,
and the reaction against the confusion of ecclesiastical matters with
politics. Immediate, local occasion; a certain enthusiastic spirit in
aren CAR ETC Gi! = lo ciel ct ainiatetalsTaic's «plea alec κε πος 2's o's ce elas a are τς we ecece 182
The prudent bishop Mensurius of Carthage, and his arch-deacon Czx-
cilian. Charges laid against Mensurius by the fanatical party, favored
by Secundus of Tigisis. Assembly of Numidian provincial bishops
at Cirta, under the presidency of Secundus, A.D. 305. Mensurius
dies. The superstitious widow, Lucilla, an enemy to Cecilian. Do-
natus of Case Nigre. Meetings in the house of Lucilla. Cwcilian
ordained by Felix of Aptungis before the arrival of the Numidian
bishops. Cecilian accused. The reader Majorinus set up as anti-
- bishop. Constantine opposed to the party of Majorinus. Trial before
τος Melchiades, bishop of Rome, and five bishops of Gaul, A.D. 313.
_ (Donatus complainant against Cecilian.) Council of Arles, A.D.
᾿ 314, (against frivolous charges of denying the faith, and on the
objective validity of sacramental acts.) Appeal to the emperor,
who also decides in favor of Cecilian. Donatus of Case Nigra,
and next Donatus Magnus, successors of Majorin, take the lead of
the party. Pars Donati. Harsh proceedings of the Count Ursacius
against the Donatists. Circumcelliones. Forbearance of Constantine
στ HE ION AGISES else τον (0 = 5. 62 οἷο τς o's) cuvilalalslajeia «jee © 6 ον sie\s)e = 182—193
Constans seeks to gain the Donatists by pecuniary presents. Severe
measures against them. Vehement discourses preached against the
confounding together of church and state. Desperate bands of Cir-
cumcellions, under the command of Fasir and Axid. Reaction in
the reign of Julian. Party of Maximinian------++-++++++e+eeee 193—197
Distracted state of the North-African church, occasioned by this schism.
Augustin as an opponent of the Donatists. His confidence in the
force of his arguments. Plan of Augustin and Fortupius. The
Donatists fear the logical talents of Augustin. Council of Carthage,
A.D. 403. Augustin’s letter to the Donatist churches. Penal laws —
demanded against the Donatists (Augustin, at this time, still opposed
to forcible measures) — enacted in part, A.D. 405. Religious con-
ference held at Carthage, A.D. 411, under the presidency of Mar-
cellin. (Proposals of the Catholic party. Augustin’s sermons. Dis-
trust on the part of the Donatists. Augustin and Petilian.) Severer
laws against the Donatists. Gaudentius of Thamugade. Donatists
continue to exist until the middle of the sixth century -----.-++-- + 197—203
Theological controversy betwixt the Donutists and the Catholic party.
Fundamental error common to both parties, — the failure to distinguish
between the visible and the invisible church. Augustin’s course of
religious development had led him to his outward conception of the
church — hence the great importance of this conception in his own
view. He admits (the Donatists appealed to miracles, etc.) of the
external and objective evidence only of the divine word, (not so in
his contest with the Manichzans.) The Donatists require severity
of church discipline. Controversy respecting the biblical term,
“ World.” The Donatists appeal (in this case inconsistently) to Old
Testament examples. The Catholics subordinate the predicates of
purity and holiness to the notion of Catholicity ; the Donatists do the
reverse. They protest against the arrogant claims of the Apostolical 4
See. Midway between both parties, Tichonius, the grammarian :
corpus Domini bipartitum. Petition against the Catholic church.
Augustin in defence of it. Controversy on the employment of force
in religious matters. Augustin defends the right of resorting to such
measures. False comparison of the divine method of educating
ΧΥΙ TABLE OF CONTENTS.
mankind with the laws of the state. Deductions of Augustin from
these erroneous principles. Foundation of the theory expressed in
the phrase: Compelle intrare in ecclesiam -+-++++++++++s++eeee δ
The Meletian Schism in Egypt, 217—221.
More rigid party (in respect to the lapsed) under Meletius of Lyco-
polis. ‘The more mild and discreet pastoral letter of Peter of Alex-
andria. Meletius arbitrarily ordains and excommunicates persons
within the diocese of Peter. Meletius excommunicated. [Critical
examination of the sources of information respecting this schism. ]
Meletians. Orders of the Nicene council. Yet the schism continues
down to the fifth CEMLUTYs eee ee etter eee eee e eee eee e eee gyal ailaielse
Schism between Damasus aud Ursinus at Rome, 221—222.
Liberius of Rome deposed and banished by Constantine in 356. Felix
made bishop. Liberius afterwards recalled. Separate party, under
the presbyter Eusebius, in opposition to the court party. Contest
betwixt Ursinus (belonging to the party of Liberius) and Damasus,
(belonging to the party of Felix,) after the death of Liberius, A.D.
366. Damasus prevails. Gratian’s law, in order to the suppression |
of this schism «+ +++ eects center Ό Ξ-----
SECTION THIRD.
CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORSHIP.
I. Christian Life.
Outward Christianity. False confidence in externals. Tendency to
partial views of doctrine. The idea of the universal spiritual priest-
hood obscured. Amurca per publicum currit. Sincerity in religion
exposed to obloquy. Pious wives and mothers, (Nonna, Anthusa,
Monica, and others) ewww wee eer ee reer eee eee eee eeeseeseseeesere
Peculiar tendencies of Christian life. The ascetic tendency and monas-
ticism, 227—265.
Its earlier opposition to Paganism — now to a mere outward Christianity.
Transition from the earlier and freer form of the ascetic life to the
more stable organization of monasticism. Relation of Christianity to
MONAStICISM +» eee ce ee eee ee ee eee eee ete eet eee nee aces os
Anthony, (born A.D., 251, of a Coptic family,) and not Paul of Thebes,
the father of monastic orders. How he was led to adopt the monastic
life. His wrong conception of self-denial, which he afterwards cor-
rected. His strictly abstemious life. His influence. Did not wish to
be regarded as a worker of miracles. Visits to Alexandria in 311 and
341. Apothegms of Anthony. (Letter to him from Constantine.)
His gentleness to others. Opposed to the superstitious veneration of
_ relics. Spread of Monasticism. Hilarion promotes it in Palestine. -
Pachomius, founder of the cloister-life. The Coenobium of Tabennz, an
island in the Nile in Upper Egypt. Abbots. Classes of monks.
Their occupations. Noviciate. Pachomius also founds cloisters for
TUDS «eee eee ress ceer se eeeereneescecrsees shat ὁ ΦΑ ον πα ehelstefeiiais alia.) ©
Fanatical tendencies which became united with-monasticism. Suicide,
(Stagirius.) Morbid state of mind. Ascetic pride. Sayings of Pa-
chomius and Nilus. (Valens. Heron. Ptolemszeus) ++-+++-+++-+:
The Euchites, (in Syria.) Different names. Their principles and
doctrines to be traced to a practical error, (purely contemplative re-
pose. The first begging friars.) An excessive leaning to externals
in the monastic life leads to the opposite error of mysticism. Doctrine
PAGE
203—217
217—221
221—222
223—227
- 227—228
228—236
236—238
238—240
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
of inward prayer, with its mischievous consequences, (depreciation of
the means of grace ; Antinomianism; sensuous mysticism, and Pan-
theism.) Flavian of Antioch and Adelphius. Kindred sect of the
Eustathians — opposed to these, the council of Gangra. Opposition
to these fanatic tendencies serves to promote the Ceenobite life. Con-
test of the Ceenobites with those who clung to the older ke of ascet-
ism. (Sarabaites, Remoboth) ΟΣ eee ecccccce
Lights and Shades of Monachism.
Anchorites. Defended by Augustine and Chrysostom against the
charge of being devoid of active charity. Their healthful “influence.
(Macedonius) sie ep) mi ὁγαι σὴν ebeie ΨΥ eels) ais) sisie
Cenobites. Christian society. Prayer and labor. Prominence given
to the original equality of all men. The cloisters as institutions of
education. (Rule of Basil.) Hospitality. Tendency to degenerate.
Mischievous fanaticism. The seclusion of the monastic life might lead
to deep self-knowledge, to a conviction of the vanity of righteousness
by outward works, to childlike submission to God, (Chrysostom, Nilus,
Marcus, Marcian:) but it oft times engendered the spirit of legal
righteousness, spiritual pride, servility of disposition, (Eusebius, in
Syria and others) i ὁ αἱ ὁ ee i ee ee ie a) sere
Simeon, the Stylite. His labors. (Theodoret’s remarks concerning him.)
Simeon’s vision. Warning given to the Stylites by Nilus--.-------
Monachism in the West. At first opposed. Encouraged by Athana-
sius, Jerome, and others. Augustin’s views of the monastic life; he
teaches that monks are bound to labor, (de opere monachorum.) ‘His
account of the corruption of monachism. Cassian introduces the mo-
nastic institutions of the East into southern France, (his institutiones
cenobiales and Collations.) Practical Christian spirit in these cloisters,
which also became seminaries for the clergy------ stent eee eens +
Reformation of the monastic life by Benedict of Nursia. His education,
(residence in Rome. Romanus. General respect in which he was
held.) Foundation of the abbey of Monte Cassino. Rules of the
Benedictines. Wise moderation shown in them. Benedict’s disciples.
Different spiritual tendencies in religion, in their relation to Monachism
and Ascetism, 265—277.
Secular opposition to monachism. Law of Valens, A.D., 365.- +.
More moderate views of the monastic life, (recognition τῇ its Saline” op-
position only to the extravagant overvaluation of it) ἘΣΕΙΣΙ͂ΡΕ at the
council of Gangra and by Chrysostom- see eee eeee tte εκ κ eee eee
Jovinian. Evangelical opponent of the ἐπε eae tendency.
Contends against the distinction between precepta and consilia evan-
gelica. Gives prominence to common fellowship: with Christ. Rejects
fasting, the unmarried life, monachism, though not unconditionally, (he
himself continues to remain a monk,) contends only against the ten-
dency to depreciate the high worth of the marriage relation, and to
overvalue fasting, (also martyrdom.) Jovinian opposed to the right-
eousness of works, and allows himself to be misled by this opposition
to deny all. different stages of the Christian life. His conception of
the invisible church. Influence of Jovinian. Siricius of Rome, and
Ambrose his opponent. Sarmatio and Barbatian. Augustin (de bono
conjugali) in relation to Jovinian. Vigilantius (see ‘above) also op-
posed to monachism-- ««ς ὁ δου ον whe δεν Ἐπ ΒΡ iets fave w a6) a ane) ova: sia o/e; e ΔΝ 5
CHRISTIAN WorsuHIP, 278—343.
Relation of Christian Worship to the entire Christian life, 2783—283.
Chrysostom and Augustin on the Christian worship of God, as not con-
fined to any particular time nor place. General reading ‘of the Bible
VOL. II.
XVii
PAGE
240—248
248—250
250—257
257—258
258—261
261—265
265—267 ©
267—269
269—278
XViil TABLE OF CONTENTS.
(φροντιστήρια,) ---- strongly recommended by Chrysostom and Augustin
— hindered by the want of knowing how to read and the excessively
high price of manuscripts. Public reading of the sacred scriptures -
Relation of Worship to Art. Church buildings, their ornaments —
images, 283—296.
Appropriation of art, corresponding to the altered relations of different
periods. Zeal (often impure) manifested in the building of new
churches. Remodeling of temples — oftentimes, however, the simpler
places of meeting are still retained. Churches constructed after the
"pattern of the temple of Jerusalem, (the fore-court, temple proper,
and holy of holies, where were to be found the altar and the bishop’s
chair.) Festive dedication of churches--++-+++++++++++e2eeeeees
The sign of the CTOSSs se seca vese sc cscs er ὁ 16 5006 562 αἱ. 9.0 δ δισοὁ «Ὁ
Images. Begin to be opposed. Employment of images proceeded from
the great mass of Christians. Asterius of Amasea. Opposition to pic-
tures and images of Christ. (Letter of Eusebius to Constantia.) Dec-
oration of churches with pictures, (Nilus, — conduct of Epiphanius.)
Moderate tendency of Christians in the West. Προσκύνησις in the
East. Leontius of Neapolis, on the use of images, in opposition to
the Jews. Zenayas:-++++++++-: alla; ifs Voteliefataisiejo « wiateielejetviinle ὁ, slitheusl ste a
Times of assembling for divine worship, and festivals, 296—316.
Every day a festival: Jerome, Chrysostom. Socrates on this matter.
Celebration othe: dies: statuomunnics- τος tosis) «sis s προ νος ΡΣ ἢ ἦν
Festival of the Sabbath. Ordinance of the council of Laodicea. Differ-
ent usage of the churches of the East and West in respect to fasting
on the Sabbath, (Saturday.) Liberal views of Augustin and others
on this subject. Decision by Innocent of Rome---+--+++++++++++-
Festival of Sunday. Cessation of business. Laws of the years 821 and
386. Spectacles on Sunday and on the principal feast-days forbid-
den A.D., A. Diy 0,'eo a50\,07) 0.0 0 016 0s 0 4 ple ese cae οἵδ 9 δ. Ὁ 8. one τῆνον τον ὁ .
Yearly Festivals.
Difference of views in respect to the feast of the passover. Decrees of the
councils of Arles and of Nice, (Quartodecimani.) Mode of announc-
ing the time of Easter by the bishop of Alexandria. Dionysius
Exiguus eeerees ee eee eee ee eee er er ee ee ese ee eeeeesese ee eeseeseeeseee
Times of fasting. Their salutary influence. Hypocritical fasting. The
great week. The great sabbath — white dress of the candidates for
baptism worn till the octava infantium. The fifty days succeeding
Easter ΟΣ. Cee e eee ee ee ee eee eee ee eee
Feast of E'piphany. The ancient principal festival in the East in cele-
bration of the baptism of Christ, (at first not accompanied by the
Christmas festival.) First indications of the spread of this festival in
the West about 360. Altered views of it (as the revelation of Christ
to the pagan world) in the West--+++-s++eeeeeeees δ Δ οἰ Waheneteds sieve
Festival of Christmas. Originated in the West, (about 350 generall
recognized :)— in the East, a new festival in the times of Chrysostom.
Arguments of Chrysostom in favor of the time fixed for this festi-
val. Union of the two festivals of Epiphany and Christmas at.Jeru-
salem and Alexandria. The celebration of this festival on the 25th of
December founded doubtless upon some apocryphal account, which 15
to be traced, not to any disposition to fall in with the pagan ceremonies
(Saturnalia, Sigillaria,) but to the mystical interpretation given to that
season of. the Year.: ++ sees eee we we ence ΟΠ ΕἾ Ξ .
New Year's festwal. Not the remodeling of the civil celebration into an
ecclesiastical one: but opposition to the licentious pagan celebration
led to an ecclesiastical celebration accompanied with fasting-----...
PAGE
278283
Be
283286
286—287
287296
296297
297—299
299301
301—802
303—806
306—308
808---814
814-816
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Particular acts of Christian worship, 316—344.
Public reading of the sacred scriptures. Origin of the pericopes. Ser-
mon. Applause by the clapping of hands. Short-hand writers.
Church psalmody. Psalms and church hymns, (often heretical.)
Pambo, Isidore of Jerusalem and Jerome opposed to theatrical church
psalmody viola c's se vo ala δὴν αν aes sec sielce slew sie αν οἷν ccc ccc ericcwe ΟῚ
Administration of the Sacrament.
Infant baptism, notas yet universally recognized in the East. Causes
_and effects of it. Catechumens. At first composed of two, at present
of three classes : audientes, genuflectentes, competentes. [Whether
there was.a class styled ἐξωθούμενοι.) Symbolical customs in adminis-
‘tering baptism (veiling of the head; sufflation; distribution of the
consecrated salt ; double unction.) Confirmation. Clothing the can-
didates in white robes. Seasons of baptism. Missa catechumenorum
ANG. ΠΟΙ ΡΣ ΘΝ toler ΣῈ ὑγ9 9 ὁ ν fe uetcla alist ai p/ehelora ον ce cece de οἷφ' .
Lord’s Supper. Agape. Eucharistical liturgy. More frequent or
more rare celebration of the communion. (Augustin, Jerome, Chry-
sostom, on this subject.) Communion at home. Participation of it
under one form. Idea of an offering. Intercessions for the departed.
Augustin’s spiritual, but still unseriptural idea of an offering--------
Veneration of the saints. Genuine Christian interest connected with
this. Festival of St. Stephen the martyr. Worship of relics. Cus-
toms bordering on Paganism. Augustin’s views respecting the wor-
ship of the saints. Vigilantius combats the idolatrous worship of
martyrs. Opposed by Jerome. Worship of the Virgin Mary.
Collyridians. Helvidius (a layman at Rome, controversy with
Jerome) and Bonosus. Pilgrimages. Chrysostom’s views of them.
_ Jerome and Gregory of Nyssa opposed to the over valuation of exter-
nals in this practice- stchalatclehalela\afoteleraretare akehefatonahahsts ais lansfaleuejouaposerepols),s
Aérius. His controversy with Eustathius of Sebaste : — aims at a total
severing of Christianity from Judaism. He is persecuted-+--+-----
SECTION FOURTH.
HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY APPREHENDED AND DEVELOPED AS A
SYSTEM OF DOCTRINES, 344—718.
General introductory remarks, 344 —360.
Influence of Origen and his school. Opposite ways of apprehending
the doctrines of Christian theology appear more openly. Imperfect
mode of distinguishing between actual life and speculative concep-
tion; between the fundamental essence of the gospel, and particu-
lar doctrines of Christianity. Lamentable interference of the civil
PAGE
316—319
319—325
325—3832
332—342-
342—343
power +--+++-- ο δ 6 06 5 6 4ὲ 50 δ᾽ ὁ a) odie er ener: 5. bpehate! aya) ὃν αἱ Ὁ ζεῖ ......4344.-- 346
Opposite views in respect to single doctrines, more than in respect to
general doctrinal tendencies: +++ +++++++ee+e erence 30) 624.0) ,0)0 | = ΔΝ
ifference of prevailing tendency in the doctrinal spirit of the Oriental,
and of the Western church: the former busied with speculative dis-
tinctions on the doctrine of the Trinity and the doctrine concerning
Christ; while the attention of the latter is directed to the centra
point of practical Christianity, the doctrine concerning man’s nature,
and concerning redemption. Cheese coe estes 0 9 6 6 9» δέον Φ΄ Ὁ ὁ δ'ν εὐ
Gregory of Nazianz, respecting the most important matters of doc-
{ὙΠῸ . . “9 os δ.) «6.6 46,4. ΠΟ ΞΟ Φ ΣΧ
Later influences of the Origenistic spirit less discernible in the Alexan-
drian church, than in the particular cases of Eusebius of Cwsarea,
and the three great church-teachers from Cappadocia, and in bringing
346
346—348
848
ΧΧ TABLE OF CONTENTS.
about a more spiritual mode of apprehending the Christian system of
doctrines generally. - Πα aa lol wie tee vee) (et elie Gia stare δ, πολ βου ΜΕΝ
Platonism constantly, except in the case of Eunomius, the scientific form
for expressing the doctrines of faith..-+++-++-+++eeeee eee cece ees
New combination of Platonic with Christian elements in the case of
Synesius The mystico-theurgical system in the Pseudo-Dionysian
writings which sprang out of a combination of this sort.--+-+-++-+-++++-
. Interpretation of Scripture and Inspiration, 350—853.
Great influence of Origen in bringing about a more scientific method
of expounding the scriptures; of Jerome, also, on the church of the
Wiest. -RherAmtrochrantsehooliie eo ares elleas αὶ ἐπε rekelethelsvoleisicte: + ἜΣ Ὁ
More accurate distinction of the divine and human elements in holy
writ among ὙΠῸ Ura neochicha o doo 00 OS OC OUosG og ode dodge dom ec 66...
Chrysostom on the difference of the gospels-----.--+- sete eeeeee δ
Jerome, On Gal. ὅ : 12--eeerece eevee κοι cecc cass crceceacecceencs
The difference in the prevailing method of interpretation among the
Antiochians and the Alexandrians— owing to a radical difference
between the two schools (the latter being more inclined to the mys-
tical side — to give an undue prominence to the divine element; the
former being more inclined to logical reflection, and striving to appre-
hend the divine and human elements in harmony with each other.)
The Antiochian tendency tempered by Theodoret and the great
homelist, Chrysostom.+++++++sseeseseen cece enes PROPS Sear hac as
Augustin, the Church-futher of the West, 358—360.
Compared with Origen, more systematic, but inferior in learning and
historical discipline. Platonism, in his case, but an inferior stage of
development. Faith and gnosis in him reconciled and united. Con-
nection of his system of faith with the development of his Christian
(ans dsAdas sologaducndogad pose odo sucadedsaooaasoouNM eee
His training and progressive development. Pious education. Given,
when a young man, to the pleasures of the world. Awakened by a
passage in the Hortensius of Cicero. Manichean. His interview
with Faustus. In danger of falling into utter scepticism. Led by
means of the Christian associations of his youth to Platonism. From
the impulse of a practical need, becomes a Christian. Studies the
epistles of Paul. Gradually emerges from the Platonic intellectualism.
Fides precedit intellectum. Harmony of “faith” and “ reason.” His
dependence on church tradition.- +--+ ++ssesseesce cece ce eevee eee
Oppositions in the mode of apprehending and treating the single great
doctrines of Christianity, 360—678.
Theology in the stricter sense of the word, or the Christian doctrine
concerning God, 360—424.
Development of this doctrine in the preceding period: the Western
system and its predominant interest in behalf of the unity of essence
PAGE
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349—850
350
350—351
351
352
352
352—853
358—354
354—360
-—the Oriental system of emanation and subordination.: ++++++++++++ 360—361
Dionysius of Rome, and Dionysius of Alexandria ++++++++++++++s+es
Doctrine of Arius. 361—366.
ture: by whom the rest of creation was produced. Christ possesses
by nature a mutable will (he makes the humanization of the Logos to
361
3861—362
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
consist merely in his being united with a human body,) yet calls him
“ God ” — that is, by the communicasion of grace, not in essence —
the essence of God incomprehensible even to pile, Saniericiada'r ἀνὴρ
Character of his system +++++++eeeseee eee ἐσ σ Κλ κε σαν os pecs AACA
Beginning of the Arian controversy, 365—370.
Arius, a presbyter and pastor in Alexandria, venerated on account of
his rigidly ascetic life, deposed in the year 321 by his bishop ——
der, who was devoted to the doctrine of Homoousion -+++++++++ :
The work of Arius, entitled ““Thalia”+--++--- . sete eee κεν eee
Alexander’s circular letter; and aneean ors of Avias to interest in his
favor the bishops of the Oriental church, who were for the most part
inclined to the system of Origen Rea ΤΥ ὦ ΘΝ Cele δ πον ΠΟ» πρὸ fae
Efforts to bring about a conciliation by Eusebius of Nicomedia, and by
Eusebius of Czsarea, who was opposed to controversy on divine
things. [Essentially Origenistic system of the latter.] His incorrect
judgement with respect to the importance of the matters in dispute.
Arius favorably disposed. Alexander disinclined to his mediation: -
Constantine, indifferent to these matters, is vexed by this division, aad
publishes a letter of conciliation, which is without effect. ---+++++- εν
First ecumenical council of Nice, A.D. 325.
[Critical examination of the diverging reports of Eusebius and of Atha-
nasius | J
The three parties: Arians, Homoousians, and the more numerous party,
who held the middle ground between the two others, — afterwards
Called Semi-Arians - 02 ces ccc aces veces ces scenes ΞΞΞ
Eusebius of Czsarea, as a pacifiator: his symbol of faith, made up for
the most part of scriptural phrases VaR OD Sod Te OO Gen DO AT Oe
The party of Alexander, and with it, at present, also Constantine, de-
mand the Homoousion and antithetic clauses or articles against Arian-
ism. Lhe Nicene Creed) :<:+-0:0:2-0-0:0-0-0-scece ewes ec ese ABA aad ae's.0
Eusebius, who at first refuses acquiescence, finally yields, for the sake of
peace, explaining, like many of the others, the Homoousion in the
sense of Tinoco SEIT CIOIO TCIM CACO CINCO CIACICIC O75 AO Ae
Creed subscribed, and Arius condemned - - - τ Ὁ +++++-e++eeseeeeeeeee
Persecutions of Arius and his party ----- tte e teen neces peeeeeee
Reiiction against this forced result. Constantine changes sides. Arius
recalled, A.D. 328 or 329 — his confession of faith. ~ Principle of the
then existing thealvay of court, — to represent deci! difference as
of no importance - Hole ὯΝ εἰ οὐδόν, oats skate) ἀ ἰοῦ ν δἰ slate,disighe’ sl «nim iis ρ ἀρ» 4 κα .
Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, 380, ff.
Already, while a presbyter, the soul of the contest against Arius— acute,
consistent, firm and unwavering ἘΚ ΟΣ ΤΑ τυ δ τὴς κοι ele Ὁ .
The Homoousion, for him the central point of the Christian conscious-
ness of God: Christ can introduce men to fellowship with God only
by being God in essence. Attacks the Arian definition of the pram;
“Son of God,” and “ generation from God "+-+++++.++++++++
His resolute and repeated refusal, in spite of the emperor's threats, to
reiidmit Arius to his standing. Personal appearance before the em-
ῬΘΙΌΓ- “τ eee reer ee σεν © wioleis 2. πιο ὁ oun! ὁ. 81504 κα αδινιν o ele.e δὴν Ὁ, δ 6 © 5. ὁ 5 este
Renewed charges against Athanasius, and hence the synod of Tyre in
335. Athanasius deposed, appeals to the emperor, who banishes him,
however, A.D. 336, to Triers----- Leen MPR are Giale Cui hae Datel ave δ
Purposed restoration of Arius. His second confession of faith. Tis
sudden death and its consequences. Explicit condemnation of Arian-
ism on the part of the head party in the East, merely for the purpose
of asserting their opposition to the Homoousion -++++++++++++++ wee
362—365
365
+ 365—366
365
366—367
+ 367—370
370—372
372
372—373
. 818-- 814.
374—376
376—377
377—378
818.
- 378—-380
380
- 380—381
381—382
382—384
384—386
ΧΧῚΪ TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
Constantine’s death, A.D.337. Constantius, an emperor who too much
affected the theologian: won over to the side of Arianism: depute:
tious spirit at Constantinople Stree ee ewes ον Stee eees - 386—388
Athanasius sent back to Alexandria by ἘΠ. the younger, nad
received there with enthusiasm. New intrigues of his adversaries.
Their ecclesiastical assembly at Antioch, A.D. 841. Deposition of
Athanasius confirmed. Delegates from both parties sent to Julius of
Rome. Protest of the Orientals against his supreme judicial authority 388—389
Gregory forced as bishop upon the “people of Alexandria. Athanasius
flees to Rome — there recognized, by a synod held in 342, as a regular
bishop. Letter of Julius to the Orientals.....+++-. πον 389—390
Meetings of the Orientals (who in the West were generally regarded
as Arians) at Antioch, A.D. 341 and 345, with their five symbols of
faith. Points of difference between them and the Nicene creed :—
they condemn Arianism, but do not admit the unity of essence, nor a
generation of the Logos grounded in the essential being of God ----- 390—391
Convocation of a gener ral council at Sardica, A.D. 347, by Constantius
and Constans — the Orientals present only in small πηι — secede
on account of Athanasius, repair to Philippopolis, and draw up a new
creed. At Sardica, the Nicene creed retained -+++++++++eees +++ 891—392
Return of Athanasius brought about by Constans - +++ ++++++eeeeee -++ 392—393
[Diversity of reports respecting the particular circumstances]: - - - +++ 392—393
Death of Constans. New complaints against Athanasius. Ritack on
Mareellus of ΠΌΣΗΣ and Photinus of Sirmium, aimed indirectly
against Atiianasitis) <1 sie ee <n ΟΣ ΠΣ ΠῚ τ ΠΡ 8923---8394
Marcellus, a warm ΤΕ πέτα of the Homoousion and opponent of the
Origenistic theology ;—-his approximation to Sabellianism — the
ἠσυχάζειν of the Logos in the divine Being, and his ἐνέργεια δραστικὴ.
(See Exposit. of Col. I: 15) 5 τ Ὁ τε τσ τ τ σε τσ κκ και κα εκ κι κν κι κα κκ κι δεεν 394—395
Deposed as early as 336; the two works of Eusebius of Casarea against
him; at a later period ‘returns to his bishopric. Photinus, his disciple,
openly professes Sabellianism. Both deposed by the pyeiod at Sir-
mium, TTA SD Mice ‘rete ta “oitoia,wylaito ro tatenre gee Ὁ να ρα τ ΡΥ το tela 895
Athanasius condemned at the church conventionsin Arles ads in Milan,
A.D. 355, where a part of the Occidentals themselves are overreached
by the court PALty scree ee cee ee ec eee cece ee ee erent eee cree 395—396
Eusebius of Vercelli, Lucifer of Cagliari, and Hilary of Poictiers zealous
defenders of his innocence -..-...+-- RemerOnG lo Oa Midian cralereieiererers 896
Unsoucht agreement of the latter with the Nicene creed.---+++++++++++ 396—397
His own free-spirited, and Lucifer of Cagliari’s passionate memorial to
the 2) 00) 92) Ke) i i i a Comer reer sens $97—398
Banishment of Liberius of Rome, and Hosius of Cordova ++++++++++++ 398
Deceitful letter of the emperor to Athanasius. Storming of the church
of Athanasius, and establishment of the passionate Geor eius in his
place by force of arms, in February, 356. AN an aehs. returns among
the Egy ptian monks - οι σσο σου δ 4 Bada ρὲ ὁ homed 398—399
Manifestation of Ἐπ οτος among the Anti-Nicene pitty after their
triumph over the Homoousians. Strict Arianism taught by Actius
and his disciple Eunomius. Doctrine of the latter, with regard to the
‘comprehensibleness of divine things, and his controversy on this point
with Gregory of Nyssa. The essence of religion consists, accor ding
to him, in the theoretical knowledge of divine pare according to
Gregory, in inward experience: ++++++++++++ : . τ Σ 899---402
Eunomius does not wish to be considered an pews! ΤῊΣ τις con-
cerning the Son of God as a creature. +++++++eeeeeee seececceeee 402—403
Antioch, where Eudoxius was bishop, principal seat of the Eunomians.
Violent opposition of the Semi-Arians, (Basil of Ancyra) ++++-++++ 403
Artifices of the Arian court bishops, Ursacius and Valens, to conceal
the difference between the Eunomian and Semi-Arian parties. The
use of the unscriptural term οὐσία represented to the emperor as being
the cause of all the disputes οὐ νας πο τ 3). Ξ
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
This term excluded, in the symbol of faith drawn up at the council of
Sirmium, A.D. 357, which Hosius and Liberius are compelled to
subscribe eee ewe eee eeoeereeeren se esse ὁ. οδιδιόι αι απ α δ δ ses δ᾽ δ ν δ ΟΝ ὃ
Opposition of the Semi-Arians, headed by Basil of Ancyra and Georgius
of Laodicea, at the council of Ancyra, A.D. 858--++-+++eeee ee eeee
The emperor Constantius hence proposes the holding of a general coun-
cil— but Ursacius and Valens, dreading a combination of the Semi-
Arians and Homoousians, contrive that two separate councils should
be held, one at Seleucia in Isaurea, the other at Arminium in Italy -
Their negociations with Basil and Georgius, at the imperial court, re-
specting the creed to be proposed to the councils: The Son is in all
respects like the Father, as the scriptures teach ; the term οὐσία must
IDC CISCAVA RE πῶ mCat <1 Sieilolet © diaslic: vis clin at atale/ bye! slele (eile isfuloivie q!slale sfGrs\e/ aie
By various arts, they contrive to impose this creed on the Westerns,
(first on their ten delegates at Nice,) then on the Orientals--------
Confirmation of this creed by a council at Constantinople, A.D. 360. —
Pains taken by Eudoxius, then bishop of Constantinople, and by Aca-
cius of Czsarea, who was averse to doctrinal controversies, in favor of
this vapid court-creed. Impatience shown by Constantius at every
departure fromit. Aétius and Eunomius are deposed ------++++++
Confusion resulting from this artificial union «+++. τ τ τ τσ στ τ στ ee eee
New turn of affairs consequent on the death of Constantius in 361; par-
ticularly to the advantage of the Homoousians ---------+-++++++++-
Spirit of Christian love shown at the council of Alexandria, held under
the direction of Athanasius, A.D. 362. Owing, however, to the want
of impartiality, a schism continued to exist at Antioch - - - - τ τ τ τσ στιν
Meletian Schism at Antioch, 410—412.
Eustathius of Antioch deposed by the Anti-Nicene party, about the
year 330. Eustathians. Eudoxius is made bishop of Constantinople,
A.D. 860, and the Arians choose, as his successor, the Nicene Mele-
tius, not rightly interpreting the moderation of his character. The
latter deposed again on account of his Anti-Arian inauguratory dis-
course. The Eustathians under the presbyter Paulinus, recognized
by the Alexandrian synod alone. Lucifer at Antioch, ordains Paul-
inus as bishop. The Western and Alexandrian churches in favor of
Paulinus, the Orientals in favor of Meletius .---.----+++--- se eeee
Lucifer himself, the occasion of a separate schism. The Luciferites con-
sider themselves as the only true church «+--+. -+e++++eeeeeeeeeee
Jovinian and Valentinian decline all interference in ecclesiastical affairs.
Lamentable disorders in the Oriental church, occasioned by the des-
potic proceedings of the Arian emperor Valens; which eventually,
however, led to a union of the Semi-Arian and Nicene parties, and
to the triumph of the latter, which had the advantage of great talents
EPID AVES USTED τὸ δες του ον ἃ γι οἷα info αὐ εὶς, fefavals ἀνα ὉΠ μ᾽ tale αὐ αν τὸ οἱο ὑλεζο τς a
Basil of Caesarea: Cappadocia preserved by his means from disorders.
Respected by the people. His freedom towards the emperor, who
does not venture to depose him. (Athanasius, also, is recalled by
Valens, through fear of an insurrection) ++ +++++++++eeeeeeeeeeeee
Zeal of Basil for the restoration of the peace of the church, especially
of the churches of the East and West -++++ ++ στ τιν τ κι κα κεν τ κεν eee
Edict of the year 375, against the abuse of the emperor’s name to pro-
mote religious persecutions. Triumph of the Homoousion under
Theodosius the Great — his law of the year 380, in favor of the
isis dl tiene Den Bac OGL Con OOGORT το ο οἱ εἰσι OURO ἀφο μεῖ τ δ oO Cora
Gregory of Nazianz. His inclination to the contemplative life — his
activity as bishop of Sasima, and at Nazianzus, as the assistant of his
father — retires again to a life of seclusion. Zeal for the faith, per-
haps also vanity, brings him to Constantinople — his five temperate
discourses in defence of the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity — hence
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405—406
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410
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412
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surnamed the Theologian — his zeal for practical Christianity in oppo-
sition to the prevailing inclination to doctrinal discussions -- +--+ -- +
Entrance of Theodosius into Constantinople, who removes Demophilus
and places Gregory in the principal church. Arian assemblies pro-
hibited within the walls of the city -+-+++++++---- πο ees .
Second ecumenical council of Constantinople, A.D. 381+++++++0++004+
Gregory consecrated bishop of Constantinople by Meletius of Antioch -
Gregory labors ineffectually to do away the Eustathian schism, (after-
wards disposed of by Alexander of Antioch) ----+.+++++e+seeeees
Resigns his post. Influence of Gregory of Nyssa on the further trans-
actions of: the council +++ ++ sees cernccccnes ἀρὰ ράφι ὦ a lees Sleletiie δ ιδ
Voluntary adoption of the Nicene creed with the addition of a more
precise article in relation to the doctrine of the Holy Spirit ------- .
Doctrine of the Holy Spirit. Its development. The doctrine at first in-
distinctly expressed. (Lactantius, Hilary) +++++++++++++eeee ee ees
According to Eunomius, the Holy Spirit is the first creature produced
by the Son, invested with power to sanctify and teach, but without
divine or creative 0) a ““πφἕᾳο ον ec eeeee
Athanasius, in the consistent development of his own Christian con-
sciousness, is led to apply the Homoousion also to the Holy Spirit : as
certain as the Holy Spirit is the means of fellowship with God, so cer-
tainly he must be one with the divine essence --+-++++++s eres seeee
His influence on the Oriental church, and thus on the council of Con-
stantinople ΟΠ ΟΞ --
Germ of the later difference between the Oriental and Western churches
in respect of this doctrine, 420—423.
Oriental view: God the Father, the μία ἀρχὴ, works all things through
the Son, in the Holy Spirit ; in opposition to the doctrine, that “ the
Spirit is the creature of the Son,” itis held, that as the Son is gener-
ated of the Father, so the Hoiy Spirit proceeds from the Father ----
View of the Western church ; particularly under the influence of Au-
gustin: Everything communicated by the Father to the Son; the
Spirit is one and the same Spirit of both, is the communion of both ;
that the Spirit proceeds only from the Father, regarded as a remnant
of the Arian system of subordination +--+-++++++++ Settee eee eee
Language of Theodore and Theodoret, opposed to the creation of the
Spirit, and in favor of the procession of the Spirit from the Father - -
Establishment of the doctrine ‘a patre filioque,” by the third ecclesias-
tical council of Toledo, A.D. 589, in opposition to Arianism ----+--
Few opposed to the Nicene creed in the West. Auxentius of Milan, a
Semi-Arian. His successor in 374, the former proconsular Ambrose.
His decided conduct towards the Arian princess Justina -++-++-+++>+
Arianism among the rude German tribes. Persecution of the advocates
of the Nicene creed by the Vandals in Africa -+++++++++-- ον
Consequences of this new modification of the Nicene creed, which finally
obtains the supremacy over the older subordination-system -+++----
Doctrine concerning the person of Christ, 424—557.
Connection of this doctrine with that concerning the Trinity: the
divine and human nature in Christ more accurately distinguished
by Homoousians. The Arians, with whom neither the divine nor
human nature meets with its just rights, accuse the Homoousians of
denying the true personal unity of the God-man------- ste eeeeeee
Doctrine of Marcellus of Ancyra, and Photinus:+++++++eeereee sees:
Further development of the doctrine of the church in opposition to the
Arian and Samosatenian systems-++++ssrsrrersrrreeees Reman τὴς
The personal unity and the complete human nature taken into union
with the Logos, held fast — notwithstanding the difference of views on
other points- ΡΥ Riche cherie ialetunietia a pep ΠΕ} sieve δ. eyave/eipieya(s: ον δὸς A
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422—423
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Influence of the two Gregorys, who carried still further the system of
Origen ΣΎ Satie im atadadeialaeb alin ini isiie seis ini alinlinhsiniailni=\< elie ΥΥ Θ tie.»
Gregory of Nyssa’s doctrine concerning the transformation of the human
nature after the analogy of the divine, meeting the Eunomian objec-
tion to the church doctrine as establishing a duality of existence —
hence the ἀντιμεϑίστασις τῶν ὀνομάτων ; his doctrine concerning an in-
termingling ( ἀνακρᾶσις) of the sensuous element with the essence of
the divine nature — hence his theory respecting the omnipresence of
Christ’s glorified humanity ete vial alexa, crs ΡΟ πο πεν ΡΥ ΔΝ
Doctrine of the younger Apollinaris, 428—435.
In opposition to the Origenistic theory - - τ "τ Ὁ τ τ τ στ κεν κκ εκ eee κεν
His interest in behalf of Christian faith combined with the interest of
scientific speculation aijejietet ele Ὁ kYspaib lm πιά μων ἀκ elie ὁ ljaliehslej'elayelsila)s/iwh ale © evelevele .
His opposition to the theory of a rational human soul in Christ — its
place supplied by the Logos ---+++++++++++ Mave ne tee eas dete ie avel ole
His idea of the God-man - . . “9.6 66.6.66. dabeNCliniae/inpatan avekaumbale /eveksielelene .
In Christ, there was no human development. Union of the Logos with
the complete human nature first takes place in the case of believers -
His predilection for the interchange of attributes— accuses his oppo-
nents of holding to a transformation of Christ’s body, and denies the
omnipresence of Christ’s glorified body. -++++-+++++++++eeeeeeeeeee
Does not suppose that he teaches a new doctrine — agrees with others in
opposing the Arian doctrine concerning Christ’s human nature — sup-
poses himself to have first established the true doctrine of the God-
ΤΠ" sess ee ee eee - ee eee eee ee sane s sees snes esse sessseseseseesee
In opposition to Apollinaris, Athanasius (also Gregory of Nazianz)
affirms, that Christ, being our pattern, and the redeemer of man’s en-
tire nature, must have appropriated the whole of it— the position of
Apollinaris, that Christ could not have assumed human nature without -
sin, leads to the doctrine of the natural necessity of sin - ---- ἐν κε eens
The scheme of Apollinaris condemned by Western councils, subsequent
to the year 375 ; also by the second ecumenical council, which estab-
lished, however, no new articles on this point «--++++++++eeeeeeeees
Opposition to the Samosatenian and the Apollinarian doctrines, in the
schools of Antioch and of Alexandria. Distinctive character of these
SCHOOLS: occ er eee sc cree cree nee ΞΟ ΟῸῖῸῸΌΌΞΌ ΞΌ
Doctrine of the Antiochian school, 436—444.
Conformably to their historico-grammatical tendency, the disciples of
this school form their conception of Christ from the gospel history —
hence their representation of the purely human nature of Christ with-
out curtailment. Close connection of this view, in the case of Theo-
dore, with his whole doctrinal system: ----- οί “
Doctrine of Theodore of Mopsuestia, 436—444.
Connection of it with his doctrine of human nature :—the rational na-
ture divided by him into two sections ; the mutable, which is capable
of being advanced to an immutable nature — man, who is the image
of God for all creation, constitutes the medium of this transition —
hence it was necessary for Christ to enter into the mutable nature of
man, which is subject to temptation — according to the measure of the
triumph of his own will in this conflict, was revealed by him the divine
power of the Logos constantly united with him, and elevating him
from one higher stage to another, as the reward of his merit. Hence
Christ possessed more than human knowledge, but not omniscience.
Hence he could not send the Holy Spirit, until after his glorification -
Maintains, on scriptural grounds, the doctrine of a progressive develop-
ment of Christ by conflict and exercise, particularly in opposition to
Apollinarianism SEMA S12 5) at wtisl oh ὐ τοι ννδοις κὸν ἐν νος οὐ «1.00 30\0 are), wie teln
VOL. II. δ
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Maintains the union of two natures in Christ, in Opposition to the inter-
change of attributes Jae ΓΟ ΤΥ ΡΥ Ή ΤῸ ΤΡ 7 7 ...... 442---.4148
Two natures united, without confusion and without separation, in opposi-
tion also to Appollinaris- diate} εἰς ‘chats Mele vatclsilehad-diehe οἷο w/e eles} erste veceeesee 443444
Doctrine of the Alexandrian church, 444—446.
Gives prominence to the incomprehensible side of the doctrine. In-
clined to the interchange of attributes (ἡ ϑεοτόκορ) --- γοῦ without
confounding the divine and the human: -... setts ee ences e cece eee 444
The two tendencies compared. Their fundamental difference. - - - - Ὁ Ὁ » 444—446
DOCTRINAL’ CONTROVERSIES.
Nestorian disputes, and their consequences down to the time of the
Chalcedonian council, 446—524.
Beginning of the Nestorian controversy.
Nestorius, patriarch of Constantinople, subsequent to the year 428 —
educated in the cloister — wanting in prudence — his zeal against here-
tics. Sets forth in his sermons the doctrines of the Antiochian school.
Imprudent zeal of his presbyter Anastasius (also of another ecclesias- ~~
tic) against the term “ mother of God,” (ϑεοτόκος.) - - - cece eee eee 446—449
Disputes concerning the propriety of this term. Nestorius takes the
part of his friend----- ἀμ ΟΦ foveh st oua re Soha iohe/els! ctielleletntets\cheasteteLeasiienaie 449
Participation of the laity in this dispute-++++++++ sess ee eee sence eens 450
Nestorius, attacked in a sermon by Proclus, defends himself with moder-
ation. Does not reject the term ϑεοτόκος directly. - - - τ +--+ +++ eee 450—452
Nestorius attacked in various ways by others.--.-+-+++++-++++eeeeee 452453
Interference of Cyrill of Alerandria « « . - «5. Ὁ τ ss cece cece cence eens 453
His ambitious and persecuting spirit, coupled with a narrow doctrinal
ZO al tea peteteler\ansloralekeusisneroete pt tetcbets: ois, ever sifer code ele retcrerile ehaieie, comet rte tite 453—454
His “ paschal letter ” and “ warning,” addressed to the Egyptian monks,
aimed against Nestorius, though without any mention of his name-- 454—455
Defends himself’ against the charge of a contentious spirit and unchari-
HAOMERo So odo oacd CAD duce do GEO dol οὐκ svemetenere Kens 455—456
His hypocritical letter addressed to the excited Nestorius ----.++++++- 456—457
Nestorius’ dignified reply, and Cyrill’s answer to this letter ---+++--+- 457
The Alexandrian presbyter Campon, undertakes the part of a mediator ;
conciliatory letter of Nestorius to Cyrill ------+-++++eeseeeeee eee 458
Cyrill’s connections with the party opposed to Nestorius at Constanti-
nople. Cyrill accused by certain of his own clergy before Nes-
ΤΌΣ sees es ΕΟ δ το δ ences Shere eters elise oleie sions eleva uceraiis ἃ abveieiale 458—460
His two works against Nestorius, addressed to the emperor and to the
Augusta Pulcheria..-++.++++se+eee- Melclelopstetats wveliensve ters Σιν, ἐγ» ity 460
His adulatory report of the dispute to Ceelestin of Rome ------ = 4 5 τος 460—461
Letter of Nestorius to Ceelestin ; in which also he makes inquiries con- ᾽
cerning four deposed Pelagian bishops - - - τ τ τ τ 5 7 τ τ τον cig ΕΣ Se 461—462
Ceelestin, under the influence of hierarchical pride, decides in favor of
Cyril aieincens « Gdvaechs tele tones ane ἐπ tai budedstehebe tat y igen ij ΜΑΙ ἐφ πα sige 462—463
A new schism threatens to take place between the East and the West.
Tal “COUNEMbsdetesere ἐκ νους loletasaieleyele eee ee ee eeee ΠΕ 463—464
Cyrill, supported by Rome, grants an ‘arrogant pardon to Nestorius, and
pronounces twelve anathemas against the Antiochian system of doc- ite
ΝΟ τ υλεγ ots θεν εν να, δλνοῖς, cosy aieueweuspotel γος cup lanctet herevenons foilereeie tio 464—465
Thevdoret’s writings in answer to Cyrill. He censures the confounding
together of the language suitable for homilies with the technical lan-
guage of doctrinal theoloey — contends especially against the notion
οὔ ἃ physical unity in respect to substance (ἕνωσις φυσικὴ, Kad’ ὑπόστασιν)
TABLE OF CONTENTS. EXVii-
AGE
as God is thereby subjected to a law of natural necessity. Cyrill’s
VINGIcAation “Of issn AtHeMANY eam Shale ho. Ἄνω οι ξοῖν φινὶ nee τον vvereverevers 465—466
Ainti-anathewmyas Ol IN ΟΝ & τ ἢ τ ἴδιοι νυ, tere) cravereloceds, ch chase ouslels 466 |
Orders for a general council to meet at Ephesus, in 481. Letter of
Theodosius II. to Cyrill SEB ihe ete ia we) Ma selch-ctial'el sha aljeefsyareackbnp.clteileten boys: το δ, age 467
Third ecumenical council at Ephesus, A.D. 431+ 0+++seeeeeeeee eens 468
Candidian, imperial agent appointed with full powers to preserve order
in the proceedings of the council. The bishops forbidden to visit
the court during the session of the assembly. ‘Nestorius attends,
accompanied by his friend Ireneus. Cyrill, with a large number of
Egyptian bishops. His friend Memnon of Ephesus. Nestorius peti-
tions for a guard ΕΟ τ ΠῚ Ε εὐπῆς iajeratatnionet Male pa saiaia Giell oon) at orateveians als 468—469
Detention of the Roman delegates, and of John, patriarch of Antioch.
The council opened in an illegal manner on the 21st of June, 431, by
Cyrill, supported by Memnon, and Juvenalis of Jerusalem, in spite of
ἈΠ πριν, TCOWM chOLM OF Ὁ ἈΠ Li 4:2) « ao ees) Ξ δ cree tiers; er eraratey Stalenz βόδι πος 469—470
The council, now the blind tool of Cyrill, send a summons to Nestorius.
His protest. The fanatical speeches of Euoptius of Ptolemais and
Rheginus of Constantia. Sentence of deposition passed on Nestorius,
which is publicly announced, and τ πέρας to the emperor -------- 470—472
Letter of Nestorius and ten other bishops to the emperor, describing
Cyrill’s arbitrary proceedings, and demanding an assembly legally
Healer 6 Oe Cas ASOT OO OTT Bio ICROUR ς CPC H DC EM ROSIE nme ie 473
Candidian suspected by the Cyrillian party ---+-+-+-+-eseee eee eee 473
’ Arrival of John. Meeting of a separate council — by which Cyrill and
Memnon are deposed, and Cyrill’s anathemas condemned. The other
bishops invited to a common council - «+++. eee eee ee ee ee eee ees .. 473—474
Arrival of the Roman legates, who unite with the party of Cyrill. John
summoned by this party-council. He and his associates suspended - . 474—475
Impartial letter of the emperor to the synod ; answer of the Cyrillian
Letter of Nestorius to his former friend and patron, the chamberlain
SCHOMASHICTIS τό ον τον, etd lafat ond πε alehicvelchodatetintheheie: ὁ που οὐ, oN σχῶ onc; atortate bayer 477
Treneus gives an account to the emperor of the arbitrary conduct of
Cyrill; yet John, the Syncel of Cyrill, produces a partial impression
τὴν RIS ELES CON eet eiiot cla ΤΠ Φ olellor'a tach an οὐ εν stake: slenoyitclels seated ceca γεν ντ ἐήσρνο cithe 478
The Comes John, appointed the emperor’s commissioner to the council.
Jestorius, and also Cyrill and Memnon are to be deposed. Indigna-
tion of the Cyrillian party. The Comes invites the emperor to call
before him eight bishops from each of the parties ---+++++++.++++0. 478—480
FATES TRUNES Lia CIGIStGY ors.) < te.) <"eln u/alalel e's eseyahapetetutelsl lets s δὐα τέ ώωνο 480
The eight delegates from each party appear before the well-meaning,
ut weak CMPETOF - - τ τ ee eee ee ee eee ee ee κεν ee ee ee eee εκ κεν 480—482
Cyrill’s briberies at the court. The emperor prejudiced against Nesto-
rius by the influence of Pulcheria. ‘The Orientals petition for a dis-
mission of the council. Nestorius remains deposed. Cyrill and
Mewmnon return to their bishoprics. The emperor still hopes for the
restoration of peace between the two parties ++++++++seeeeee seen 482—483
Compact between Cyrill and the Orientals, A.D. 432; and its conse-
ha quences, 482—488.
Cyril subscribes the creed proposed by John of Antioch. John con-
sents to the condemnation of Nestorius. Maximian appointed patri-
ΠΩ 1) ΡΥ Ξε οτ ον τὴ λον oAhe att skerere 483—484
New divisions. . Cyrill accused by the zealots of his own party. Com-
pact disapproved on the part of the Antiochians. The more mode-
XXVUI TABLE OF CONTENTS.
rate, such as Theodoret, dissatisfied with the removal of Nestorius and
the condemnation of his doctrines. The zealots, such as Alexander
of Hierapolis, and Meletius of Mopsuestia, demand the condemnation
of Cyrill’s anathemas, and regard him as an excommunicated person.
Excited by the violent conduct of John of Antioch, they form an op-
position party in the East, the synod of Cicilia secunda --++++++++>
Proclus appointed patriarch on the death of Maximian, in 433, although
the people demand Nestorius. His connection with Cyrill and John.
The latter endeavors to put down the opposition of the Asiaties by
resorting to the civil POWET sree rere eee reece eee e eee cence eee
Theodoret’s negotiations with John. He endeavors to bring over the
more rigid Antiochians, but fails. Alexander of Hierapolis and Me-
letius of Mopsuestia, banished ΟΞ er 2) eve
Sequel of the fate of Nestorius.
Remains four years in a cloister near Antioch. A.D. 435, banished to
the Egyptian Oasis. His letter to the prefect of Thebais, and the
unmerciful treatment he received. His tragedy written by himself,
(and that of his friend Irenzus.) Circumstances of his death unknown
Severer laws passed against Nestorianism, A.D. 435. Theodoret, con-
tinuing steadfast, is accused of being a Nestorian by Cyrill --------
Cyrill’s plan to procure the condemnation of Diodorus and Theodore.
His death, 496—498. :
The attempts of Rabulas of Edessa, and of the abbot Maximus, violently
opposed in the Syrian ONiietloceog ee ob occsehagsd 6s scaudec0abod
Cyrill’s labors with the emperor frustrated by the superior prudence of
Proclus. The latter’s Tomus ad Armenos. His delegates transcend
their powers. Letter of the Antiochian synod in behalf of Theodore,
addressed to the emperor. Letter of Proclus to John, and ordinance
of the emperor to the synod. Cyrill evades the storm -----+--+--+-
Cyrill’s work aimed against Theodoret : “ that there is but one Christ.”
Theodoret’s defence of Theodore eee er eoe ese oer ee ee ee ee ee ee ee ee ee Oe
New plots of Cyrill. His death.-.--+++- does deoankoddoousoomoe oS
Dioscurus, Cyrill’s successor, of the same mind with his predecessor, but
still more violent — his zeal to establish the authority of the Alexan-
drian church. Treats every distinction of natures in the concrete
subject as a Nestorian heresy. Theodoret the main object of his
attack. His connection with Syrian monks and ecclesiastics under
Barsumas, and the illiterate monks of Constantinople under Eutyches
The Eranist of Theodoret, a work temperately composed against the
Eutychian and Eeyptian type of doctrine, in 447 - +++ seer seer eee
Theodoret arraigned by Dioscurus before Domnus of Antioch. Mild let-
ter of Theodoret to Dioscurus. Theodoret accused by Dioscurus
before the emperor, of Nestorianism. Theodoret and Domnus defend
themselves. Theodoret forbidden to leave his diocese -++++++++++:
Eutyches and the synod at Constantinople, in 448, 504—515.
Complaint entered before this synod against Eutyches by Eusebius of .
Doryleum. Flavian, president of the synod, attempts to reconcile the
parties, but fails. Eutyches appears before the synod, after being
thrice summoned. Emperor’s letter to the synod, apparently in favor
of Eutyches. Flaventius, the emperor’s commissioner of faith »-++--
Eutyches deposed and excommunicated --+++++++ Pee eee eee eee eens
Influential connections of Eutyches. His petition to the emperor. Sen-
PAGE
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468—489
489—492
492—495
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498
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Robber’s synod at Ephesus, A.D. 449.
Party ordinance of the emperor. Dioscurus president of the synod.
Orders respecting Theodoret and Barsumas. Commissioners of the
emperor eoeereeeret eer ee ee reer estes ee esos 009 690 ee eeeeeneseeseseeeesse
Dioscurus rules supreme, by means of his voice, the monks, the soldiers,
and the cowardice of many bishops. The Niceno-Ephesian creed
established as alone valid. Flavian, Eusebius, Domnus, and the firm
Theodoret, deposed ΕΔ τα aie\c/ sala, πιο 86 estore wie toro ῥ᾽ Wel. ἀεί νεῖν es ewes
Course taken by Leo the Great, with regard to the Robber’s synod-+++++
Acquiesces in the condemnation of Eutyches. His letter io Flavian.
Slight attention paid to his delegates at the Ephesian council. . Fla-
vian and Theodoret appeal to an Italian council--.-.-.+.+.+..-- .
Leo’s letter, at first to no purpose, against the latrocinium. Negotia-
tions with him, to procure his recognition of Anatolius--------+-.-
Change of political relations. Pulcheria and Marcian in power, after
A50® ~ Lees ANAUENCE ΠΟ ΝΕ ὁ See τ, ἐὰν ἴοι ἰοέοτοία suds speseretestie bye evecesb-one
Order for a general council to meet at Nice. Leo’s delegates. Coun-
Cl TeMoOVed to ὉΠ ΡΟ ΘῊΡ τ νι. wieleialy ov reyorsywvalete ~ loreserste appre: claserolece.ejuie
Fourth ecumenical council, held at Chalcedon, A.D. 451, 519—524.
Excitement of the parties. Theodoret’s reception. Many bishops veer
round with the new breeze at Court: +--+ sees cece cece cece ccecece
Aversion to the forming of a new creed. The creed of Anatolius, which
is approved by the Egyptian party, (Christ, out of two natures.) A
part of the Orientals and the Roman delegates not satisfied. Threat
of a Western council. A creed finally agreed upon, by adopting
several articles from the letter of Leo----+-+++eeeeseee cess eeeee
Dioscurus deposed mustuxedetefell a, sis] cinliate sve evs) ele)ie (lain a's) salle telelete stele etate t¥erahere
Unworthy treatment of Theodoret, who at last directly condemns
Nestorius ed
Case of the ten Egyptian bishops skeliejene whase) c/n, Siete siisie cm elevate ctoletelé ὁ οοὐφο
The union at Chalcedon also, merely in appearance - “5 5 τ λει σον ἢ
Monophysite controversy, 524—550.
Original germ CRA ς ΘΥΎ, ει let euros .
The monk Theodosius, after the expulsion of Juvenal, made patriarch
Of JETUSAIEM: os vce ress cewcesele τὴς svcccnceccccvesccceneteisue
Froterius, the successor of Dioscurus at Alexandria, and the Monophy-
site party under Timothy Ailuros. Made bishop by this party in
Assassination of Proterius. The emperor desires an agreement of the
two parties. Leo the Great applied to, and shows no disposition to
yield anything. Imperial request addressed to all the Metropolitans.
Wise judgment of the bishops of Pamphylia. Banishment of Ailurus,
A.D. 460. The mild Salophaciolus made patriarch.-+++++++.+.+++
Basiliscus dethrones Zeno, A.D. 476. In the beginning, favorable to
Monopbysitism. His circular letter condemns the Chalcedonian creed
and Leo’s epistle. Ailurus once more patriarch. Acacius of Con-
stantinople resists the emperor. Anti-circular of Basiliscus- ------
Zeno again emperor. Favorable to the Chalcedonian party. Choice
of Peter Mongus by the Monophysites, after the death of Ailurus.
Obliged to flee. Salophaciolus again patriarch. Peter Mongus and
John ‘Talaya CHOSEN apni erode <joreceiol ols ois in ΤΕΥ ἢ d,s, oft hate Φ Ὁ οἷν ΕΓ ἐδ δεδν;,ὰ
John Talaya, with Gennadius, at Constantinople. His connection with
Illus. Irritates Acacius. The cunning Peter Mongus. Zeno’s He-
noticon, A.D. 482. New divisions. Four parties, (the Acephali
among the Monophys.) Schism betwixt the Eastern and the West-
YING CHUNG eI eneieelevelelalenvretslacicteretels « eychere σεν we citrate ctetelsllcicbens: atehd ὁ οἷν
Anastasius emperor, in 491. Endeavors to maintain the Henoticon.
VOL. II. ἴω
ΧΧΙΧ
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510—513
514—515
515
515—516
516—518
518—519
519
520—522
522
522. 593.
523—524
524
524
524—525 ©
525—526
525—526
526—527
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ΧΧΧ ; TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Is suspicious of Monophysitism. The patriarchs Euphemius and
Macedonius of Constantinople. Philoxenus of Hierapolis and Seve-
rus, the two heads of the hitherto headless party, (the Acephali.)
Tumult in Constantinople, in consequence of the addition to the
* Trisagion. The emperor removes Macedonius, but is afterwards
obliged to make concessions to the Chalcedonian party----+--- tees
Justin emperor, from the year 518. Enthusiasm for the Chalcedonian
council. Vitalian and Justinian. Negotiations with Rome. Anathe-
ma on the leaders of the Monophysites. Acacius himself sacrificed.
Severus flees to Alexandria:----.-.... sieverislaieye lite cece eect es eee
Justinian emperor from the year 527.
Would fain be champion of the Chalcedonian orthodoxy, and lawgiver
to the church, as well as to the state. In so doing, acts as the tool of
others, particularly of his monophysite wife Theodora. Anthimus her
.favorite, whom, deceiving her husband, she makes patriarch, A.D.
535. Anthimus excommunicated by Agapetus of Rome. Deposed
by the undeceived emperor. Mennas is made patriarch. --..-.+.-.
The council under Mennas, A.D. 536, fully condemns Monophysitism.
Justinian’s despotic law confirming this decision- +. +--+ ++++++ee+e
Intrigues of Theodora, with the aid of Vigilius, a deacon, and after the
banishment of Silverius, in 538, bishop of Rome. Vigilius declines to
_ declare openly in favor of Monophysitism: «+++ ++ ++ ++ ++e+ee seer es
The Origenistic court-party, led by Domitian and Theodore Ascidas.
Peter of Jerusalem, Pelagius the Roman Apocrisarius, and Mennas,
(the two last being jealous of the influence of Theodore Ascidas,) pro-
pose to the emperor, the condemnation of the heresies of Origen.
Emperor’s letter to Mennas, and a synod condemn Origen; yet, Theo-
dore Ascidas and Domitian sacrifice the truth to party interests, and
subseribe - ++ -ccce re 6655 Ὁ AAG ceh!s BIG LCI A AO OS COLO δτδο G5 Bic. pic
The Origenist’s exert themselves to make the anathema pronounced on
Origen recoil on Theodore of Mopsuestia, Theodoret, and 1085, for the
purpose of drawing off the emperor, annoying Mennas, and forming
a combination with the Monophysites and Theodora. They persuade
the emperor to condemn those three church teachers by his edict de
tribus capitulis, A.D. 544; which the four Oriental patriarchs, and
the majority of the bishops, after some resistance at first, subscribe. - -
The controversy on the three chapters, 541—550.
Protest of the more free-spirited Africans, particularly of Pontian, as
also of the bishops of Dalmatia and Illyria, against the imperial edict.
At the request of Vigilius, bishop of Rome, whom the emperor endeavy-
ors to gain, Fulgentius Ferrandus writes his judgment. (1. Authority
of general councils. 2. Persons deceased are removed from the juris-
diction of a human tribunal. 3. The writing of an individual, though
subscribed by many, does not approach to the authority of holy writ.)
Vigilius, inclined to follow this judgment at first, is gained over by the
court-party —then seeks himself to gain over the African bishops.
Seventy subscribe his judicatum, but two of his own deacons, and
others of the clergy, oppose Mpc ann dsc Siisiisite) alles) eyes (alls) elev aisle) esis) Εν avelele e
Thorough and free-spirited defence of the three articles by Facundus
of Hermiane eeceovre ee os eeo eres ese ee ee ee eee eee oe eseeHeeeee ee ee enese
Vigilius, excommunicated by a Western synodal decision, urges the call
of a general council. Retracts his judicatum. His shameful oath.
Council of Constance, A.D. 551. A part of the African bishops
appear. Persecution of the resisting bishops. (Reparatus of Car-
thage banished). « «τ τ Στ στ στ ττ eres eee eee Prete λε σεν κι tee
New eilict of the emperor drawn out in detail. Vigilius declines sub-
scribing Atsretapeiaietels sists GisUeuapelaueneiieve lal ον
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535—536
- 536—538
538—541
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TABLE OF CONTENTS.
| Fifthecumenical council at Constantinople, A.D. 553. Vigilius’ Constitutum
ad imperatorem. Vigilius excommunicated by the emperor. Theo-
- dore of Mopsuestia, and several of the works of ‘Theodoret and of Ibas,
condemned. Many bishops deposed. Vigilius, still inconstant, con-
firms the decrees of the council: - +++ +s ee 66 cece ee eee e nesses ecene
Union of the Monophysites with the ruling church not yet effected.
Secession of the churches of Istria and Aquilia from Rome::----+--+
Aphthartodocetism, (Christ subjected himself to the affections and de-
fects of a sensuous nature only κατ᾽ οἰκονομίαν) proceeding from a
mistaken effort to glorify Christ. The emperor, who had already,
in 533, confirmed the formulas of the Theopaschites, makes it a law.
Deposes Eutychius. Justinian’s death, A.D. 565, delivers the church
from the utter confusion which threatened it-++++++++s+e+eeeeeeee
APPENDIX.
Formation of isolated church parties, which grew out of these disputes,
beyond the limits of the Roman empire-+-++++++++++eseeeeeeeeee
Nestorians in Persia.
Edessa in Mesopotamia, a seminary for Persian church-teachers. Ra-
bulas of Edessa becomes a follower of Cyrill. Zealous against Nes-
torianism. Expels the presbyter Ibas and others, who go to Persia.
Letter of Ibas to Maris, and his translations of the writings of Theo-
dore and Diodorus into the Syrian tongue. A.D. 536, becomes
bishop Ὁ SENGRSSA) whe) orsinleheie το γε, ee clele) ofci wieile'e) 10 alee 0 ofaiel ale! τιν τονε eles’ ee
Activity of Barsumas (one of those who had been driven away by
Rabulas) as bishop of Nisibis, from 435 to 489, in establishing the
Nestorian church ; the organization of which is completed by a synod
under Babias, patriarch of Seleucia, from the year 496. (Permits
the clergy to marry) δ᾽ ὦ Οὐδ, Ὁ, 6 @ eile οἰ 0, 0 6 ἃ ὐ ὁ 866 Ore κα οἷα 'e e/a υ δ᾽ 4.» © ee one
The school of Edessa, destroyed in 489 by Zeno, transplanted to Nisibis
Monophysites.
In Egypt, (seceded in the time of Justinian,) and in Ethiopia: -------
In Armenia, more liberal. The synod of Thiven, under the Catholicos
Nierses, in 536, condemns the Chalcedonian council----.-.+.++++++
In Syria, the restless activity of Jacob, the Metropolitan, in behalf of the
oppressed church, till 578. Jacobites: +--+ ++ +e sees cece cece ee eeee
Divisions among the Monophysites. The party of Severus. Niobites.
Severus favors Phthartodocetism. Themistius inclined to Agnoétism- -
Studies, for the most part barren and unprofitable dialectics. Aristotle.
Two men of larger views. John Philoponus, (distinguished the two-
fold Aristotelian sense of the term φύσις — accused of tritheism) and
Stephen Gobarus, (collates the opposite decisions of the older church-
teachers) spe eeeeenees Το slfuvehe! svalele »: sisialeletelfslfsliarah sila) (e, ἡ, δ. ὁ Ἶ ὁ ο δ ρου»
Mystical tendency of Bar Sudaili, an abbot of Edessa: taught that all
fallen beings would eventually be raised to union with God. His
Chiliasm. His mystical interpretations of scripture: ++++++++++e+s++
Doctrine concerning Man, 557—661.
Introductory remarks. Practical spirit of the Western church. The
West (Tertullian) gives more prominence to sin and grace. The
Oriental church, (Origen) to that which is akin to God and to the
free-will ; — answering to the two main directions of human culture: -
ΧΧΧΙ
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The West.
Development of the doctrine concerning man, previous to the time of
Augustin: «6 56 τ τὴν Πρ να ἀν τς ἀπ ΕΝ. δύο. eV ΟΝ ἀήρ ον νᾶν lati © cereale eee ἢ
The still undeveloped system of Hilary of Poictiers.
The sinful propensity cleaving to all men from Adam. Hilary seems to
refer moral evil to the sensuous nature. All men need the forgiveness
of sin. Among men, all goodness relative. Holds to a certain painful
righteousness of the law. The mild yoke of Christ. Presupposes, too,
the communication of a new principle of life by Christ. Gives promi-
nence to the free-will---+-..+2++-> mee aera ce se veces δα ον leje see eho
Ambrose, the predecessor of Augustin. +++++++ ον teen cece eeee
Distinctly sets forth the fact of universal sinfulness, (by men’s own fault,)
and the doctrine of grace as the efficient cause of all conversion, which,
however, is conditioned on human recipiency--++++++++- we eeeee oe
The two passages treating of grace as effecting the whole work--------
Anthropology of Augustin and Pelagius, 564—592.
Augustin,
Connection of his scheme of doctrine with the history of his life. Study
of St. Paul, at the time of his conversion. The two great divisions
of his life. The question, “ whence is evil in man’s nature, which is
attracted towards goodness,” led him to Manicheism; but became
also, the centre afterwards of his consistent scheme of thought:--+----
The first period, reaching to about 394. Certain Platonic ideas. His
doctrine of moral corruption not derived from Manicheism. Moral
evil the μὴ ὄν. Holds fast to free-will. His exposition of Rom. 9,
of the year 394, (Quod credimus, nostrum est.) The occultissima
AhbhhAljT STAN oo nS dd Uo do dd oo on Ὁ. Πρ G0 ood oF we eeesece
With more profound views of the nature of faith, he comes to give a,
more partial prominence to the divine agency. A predestination
conditioned on foreknowledge does not satisfy his discriminating
πε /iatetiede refertoveileta isveleteois\ cle] skalelebetetateiela, cistaret telat «) shecchate waueten eens os
The incomprehensible, yet at all times just, councils of God- ++ ++++++
Augustin’s scheme of doctrine distinctly struck out previous to the Pela-
gian controversy ; before the system of Pelagius (which grew out of
several views already prevailing in the church) had been formed out
in opposition to Augustin sewer sence ΟΞ eevee
Pelagius.
Monk of Britain. Connection with the East. His sequestered life in
study and ascetism. Sense of moral power. His letter to Demetrias.
Precepta et concilia— against Jovinian. Takes the sermon on the
mount inithe literal’ sense sitet s!-)-ssueqaienaucle stapes “pazepaleiphelele a= bieininteiotes
His practical interest in opposing the worldly Christianity of the times.
Outward participation in the sacraments and faith (understood by
him as an outward thing) are not enough. Opposed to purgatory; in
favor of the eternity of future punishment. His opposition to moral
Maction+ «+seees eee eee Comer en ee οἱ», οἵ οἷ rene ee ee eens were -"
His doctrine concerning man. Virtues of the pagans. Denies inherited
depravity. The possibility of moral evil, a necessary condition of
Meee Free-will overcomes the enticements of sense, or yields to
ἢ + sec ec er erence ο-πὅὺὄπ ΞΕ
His doctrine concerning the Saviour, that of the church, modified, how-
ever, by his doctrine of man. Works must be added to faith. Oppo-
sition to the Augustinian maxim: Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis: -
His commentary on Paul’s epistles, composed at Rome, (re-written by
Cassiodore)+ +++ eeeeeeee cence eeeeees ΑΓ iets: aie) st la\e Se
PAGE
559
- 559—562
562
562—563
563—564
564—566
566—568
“ον. 568—570
Second period. The letter to Simplician, A.D. 397, also, on Rom. 9.
570—572
572
572—576
576—578
578
578—579
579
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Externae history of the Pelagian disputes, 579—592.
Celestius, formerly an advocate, openly appears as a defender of the
principles of Pelagius Nay at τίν (dtu) sholaratclatal alc, oiiaiielletaljeWegeyisieyels! ον εν, eles
Celestius visits Carthage (with Pelagius) in 411. Endeavors to obtain
there the place of a presbyter. Complained of by Paulinus before a
synod of that country, A.D. 412, (for maintaining that Adam’s sin
injured no one but himself.) Ccelestius of the opinion that the sub-
ject in hand was a pete question de traduce peccati ; but is ex-
communicated: - Δ ΔΙΑ δ, © οἱο, ὁ pis) χα aya elts)istali sayeth sie) oe παν δ, seyepacexoka ole),
Pelagius at Palestine. Ἧ D. 415. Jerome and Paul Orosius, his antago-
nists. Jerome’s letter to Ctesiphon, and his dialogues. Yet the Ori-
ental church, on the whole, more favorably inclined to Pelagius than
to Augustin SC Υο τὰ οροο πρρν Πρ τὸν
Orosius arraigns Pelagius before a synod under John of Jerusalem, re D.
415. The prudent John will not allow himself to be moved by the
authority of Augustin. Pelagius vindicates himself before the Ori-
entals on the charge that “he taught man might easily fulfil the
divine commands.” The complainants allege that the matter be-
longed to the West — and for this reason, John reports it to Innocent
CE ERO TIIG ow ore ne ele eye) a cl cla lee ereneve wre) al δ Ὁ etePerwilelel tis wtislelater'e\'w: = stele ‘eitei ste
Heros of Arles, and Lazarus of Aix, enter a complaint against Pelagius,
before a synod held at Diospolis, under Eulogius of Cesarea. Pela-
gius defends himself against the charge that he taught “ there was such
a thing as perfect purity and exemption from sin.” Also condemns
certain positions of Ceelestius, and 1s recognized as a member of the
Catholic church: 3's οὐδὸν οὐδὸν s τοῖς wc cn seme es enews να) εἶ δ. οἰ δον ον ὁ ἐν. ὁ
Alleged violences at Bethlehem. Jerome and Augustin (de gestis Pe-
lagii) concerning the synod of Diospolis .++++++++++esee seer eres
The three letters of the North-African bishops, A.D. 416. ‘Letter of
Pelagius— and his vague confession of faith, all addressed to Inno-
cent. Innocent, though not wholly given to the views of Augustin,
joins in the condemnation of the Pelagian doctrines, hut dies in the
same year, ἈΠῸ ce rece κἴὸ ιν οὐκ νοοῖ ον 0.0.5» α.6 5. πὰ 6 55 0) 6 5. 5,6. 6), ἐῶ 4 0
Zosimus his successor, more favorable to the Pelagian doctrines. Cceles-
tius at Rome. His confession of faith, likewise vague and indefinite,
satisfies Zosimus. Two letters of the ‘latter to the “Africans, asserting
the orthodoxy of Ceelestius and Pelagius-++++++++sseeeeee eee καν
The decided protest of a synod at Carthage produces an impression on
Zosimus. He suspends his decision. Nine canons of the Africans
against Pelagius δ Ὁ 5 ὅτ στο τὸ ἀκ ΡΥ δ δ ποτ πολ τα «ἘΞ eb~ eval al stale)
Africans secure on their side the civil power. Imperial edicts against
Pelagianism. Zosimus thereby brought round. Cites Ccelestius, who
does not appear. Condemns by his “tractoria ” Pelagius and Cpslee
tius. Accused by the Pelagians of denying his own convictions:
Bishops deposed for refusing to subscribe the tractoria of Zosimus: «+ «+
Julian of Eclanum, 592—596.
More systematic, at the same time more passionate, than Pelagius and
Ceelestius: Free-spirited, well educated, moral, and devout. His
remarks against the timid bishops. Against the interference of the
civil power. Constantly makes his appeal to reason, (ratio): +++++++
The Pelagian anthropology, rigidly carried out, must needs introduce a
XxXxill
PAGE
579—580
580—581
- 581—582
582—583
583—585
585
586—587
587—589 .
590—591
591—592
592
592—595
change : also, in the doctrine concerning the person of Christ. Lepo- .
rius, ‘condemned as a Pelagian, A.D. 426. His recantation at Car-
thage, in which, however, there is no trace of his earlier Pelagian views,
but only of his Antiochian notions respecting the person of Christ: -
Annianus, deacon at Celeba, a zealous and constant Pelagian. Trans-
lator of Chrysostom’s homilies:++++++++++e+eseeeeeeeeeeeeneeneee
595—597
597—598
XXXIV - TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Leo the Great opposed to Pelagianism. The Pelagian Seneca, about
the year 500 — letter of Gelasius of Rome against: him- «++ +++ τ λιν τε το
Final result of the controversy. Pelagianism suppressed by outward
force — but as the victorious doctrine (not, however, the whole doc-
trine of Augustin) had in its favor the voice of the Christian con-
sciousness at large, no reiictions, like those in the Oriental church,
ensued@--++-+- 52.919. 6 Ὁ eee alee ecw ewes eee wee 0 oe 616 ὁ sees το δ᾽ οὐοποῖο
Inner relation to each other, of the conflicting modes of thinking, and
shape of the dispute, 599--606.
Importance of the questions in dispute, depreciated by Pelagius and
Ceelestius — strongly asserted by Julian and Augustin: ++-++++++++++
Fundamental difference. According to the professions of the parties :
the different views of man’s moral condition in relation to the first sin-
A good deal that cannot be traced back to this point. The different
way of apprehending the doctrine of man’s free-will. Finding no-
where substantial freedom, Augustin is led to the supposition of a
corruption of man’s nature, and of a preceding original moral state.
Pelagius, with his formal conception of freedom, conceives the possi-
bility of goodness, as well as of moral evil—and his theory of an
original moral state and of a first sin, stands disconnected from his sys-
tem. The possibilitas utriusque of Pelagius. The antithesis of
“nature” and “grace” of Augustin, the dependence of all rational
beings on grace for attaining to their destination: +++ +++++++++ee++
Accordingly, the fundamental difference is in the different mode of
apprehending the relation of the natural to the supernatural — or
reduced back still further — of the creation to the Creator: ++++++++>
Individual points of dispute.
The first sin and its consequences. The Pelagians represent the first sin
as the disobedience of a heedless child, yielding to the seductions of
sense. Augustin makes the exceeding guilt of the first sin to con-
sist in man’s transgressing the law of God with a free-will ; “concu-
piscence ” the root of selfishness. Augustin’s propagatio reatus et pene,
Rom. 5:12. The Pelagians taught that Adam injured his posterity
only by his example. Augustin’s well-weighed expressions respecting
the propagatio fidei per traducem, which Pelagius called nonsensical.
The Pelagians affirmed a progressive deterioration of humanity — yet
that there were examples of perfect holiness: ++ +-+++++++++++s+se+*
The wavering notion of “grace,” among the Pelagians, and their three
_ Augustin, of inward communications: «+--+ +++ eee eee encase sees
he
The Pelagians, recognizing the objective significance of justification, place
the inner union with Christ in the back-ground: +++++++++seeereeee%
Progressive development of the divine life according to Augustin,
618—623.
In opposition to the three stages of righteousness according to Pelagius,
PAGE
598
598—599
599—600
600—601
601—605
605—606
606—612
612—613
613—614
. 614—616
616—617
617—618
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Augustin teaches there is but one only spring of true holiness — the
specific principle of the Christian life. Augustin’s narrow judgment
of the pagan times, (Rom. 14 : 23.) On the other side, Julian’s illogical
distinction of the fructuose and steriliter Dond++++++++0e+ sree ences
Augustin’s prevenient, efficacious, and codperating grace, and his “ gift
of perseverance 77 aca oting nivale s ὦ δὰ ox ἐν οἱ oes ΕΞ
Doctrine of absolute predestination, 623—627.
Necessarily connected with Augustin’s doctrine concerning grace. His
more profound apprehension of freedom as a state,leads him to deny
it as a faculty. Contents himself with an apparent freedom. Real
freedom only ATU THE VCASE OLE NCLAIID ole ereuste) cles ΝΣ ὁ ee. au sinr sl Geter Ὁ stats
Augustin’s prudent, logically skilful statement of this doctrine. Mis-
chievous consequences derived from it already in 426, by the monks
at,Adrumetum. Against these, Augustin writes his works de gratia
et libero arbitro, and de correptione et gratia: +--+ ++++++++se cress .
Semi-Pelagianism and Augustinianism, 627—651.
Intermediate tendencies.
John Cassian, 627—630.
A monk from the East. His predominant practical bent. A disciple
of Chrysostom ey
Recognizes a universal corruption — also Augustin’s views of “ grace ”
and “ justification,” but in connection with a love of God extending to
all, and with the exclusion of all constraining influence on the free-
will. His thirteenth collation, on the relation of grace and free-will. -
The Semi-Pelagians in Gaul, not satisfied with Augustin’s book de cor-
reptione et gratia. Some of the clergy there, however, enthusiastically
attached to Augustin —for example, Prosper of Aquitania. His and
Hilary’s letter to Augustin, on the agitated state of men’s minds. ----
Augustin’s works, written with Christian moderation, against the Semi-
Pelagians. De preedestinatione sanctorum and de dono perseverantiz-
Prosper’s hearty and fervent carmen de ingratis — in which, however,
he omits to notice, in his opponents, the interest for a morality that
would be frees - - -. ὙὙ reer ee eeee ee eeenes op otaielle οὐ τ τρίς Ἀν πυκιογς οἰ καίει a .
Augustin’s last years. His retractationes. The opus imperfectum. His
letter to Boniface. Dies A.D. 429 --+-+---+-- Oe ἐν δ ον νον οἵα» ὁ ἃ Ore
Prosper and Hilary have recourse to Ceelestin of Rome. Ccelestin’s
indefinite letter to the Gallic bishops. The Commonitorium of Vin-
centius— partly in opposition to the too great authority ascribed to
Augustin OMeeah ek Woneb et eg SN ease chick oy seek ohoy oh ob ss obis/oltel shadsy aliet atch Πρ ρα ΡΠ Ὁ nee
Hilary and Prosper in Rome. Prosper’s unsuccessful efforts also with
Sixtus SC 5... ϑιόναια οὐσιίφιο αν οὺ ὁ, ον δ Δ γ2..6. δὲ αἰ ἂν φ δ οι μι. ο
Writings of Prosper. Able exposition of the doctrine of predestination.
(God not arbitrary, but his judgments unsearchable. Germ of the
distinction between the revealed and the secret will of God.-.-.---
The book De vocatione omnium gentium — [its author]—aims at acom-
parison resulting in favor of the Augustinian system of doctrine. His
ἘΠ O LIC TTOLMOC > eier eres © ck See fark) 31s G4 Gye κά οἰς whe ote Ἰόιώς ον οὐρίδεδροο
The three positions of man: Voluntas sensualis, animalis, spiritalis; and
the two kinds of grace, general and special. Our knowledge is but
in part i i ec δ' οὐδ δ᾽ a
Tre Predestinatians. The “second book of the Predestinatus,” (stern
form of the doctrine of predestination, examples of Judas and Paul.
Through Christ, a restoration of corrupt nature only in hope): ++ +--+
The author of the “ Predestinatus,” a Semi-Pelagian. By prevenient
grace, he understands only the work which Christ accomplished here
on the earth. Refutation of the above mentioned examples----+++-
Genuineness of the second book of the Pradestinatus - τ τ τ στ τ τ στ στσν
XXXV
PAGE
618—622
622—623
623—625
625—627
627
627—630
630—631
631—632
632—633
633—634
+ 634—636
636—637
637—638
638—639
639—641
641—643
643—644
644—645
XXXVI TABLE OF CONTENTS.
The Semi-Pelagian Faustus of Rhegium. His practical Christian spirit.
His controversy with the Predestinatian Lucidus. Council of Arles,
A.D. 475. His book De gratia Dei et humane mentis libero arbitrio.
Free-will not lost, but weakened. Distinguishes also a universal and
a special grace ; but this sometimes precedes human efforts. His
well-conceived collation of the doctrines concerning man and concern-
ing Christ. Mentions Augustin with respect. Gennadius on Augus-
AUN ceivoe whe, o)o) «ies; v aie («ale wliwl'e ‘ial eielleueltalisysialinice) eveNaolial faite Pewee reer ee ee enene
Cesarius of Arles, a man distinguished for practical activity, and Ful-
gentius of Ruspe, (both driven out of Africa by the Vandals,) and
others of a similar stamp, bring about the triumph of the Augustinian
system of doctrine atiete(sleavelte EP ee wee we ee en ee ee arse ee seeeesrere
Controversies occasioned by the work of Faustus. ‘The Scythian monks
of Constantinople, zealous for the orthodox faith. Question proposed
by the African bishop Possessor-to Hormisdas of Rome, and his free-
spirited, moderate reply. Those monks, dissatisfied with the answer,
are the occasion of Fulgentius of Ruspe writing several works against
Semi-Pelagianism a laiauolebeiel tole! o¥e ofisheMelsliajeileisieielete.evelleic ν eee
The council of Orange, A.D. 529, under Cesarius, and that of Valence,
testify to the victory of the Augustinian scheme of doctrine----+----
The Oriental Church, 651—661.
Slight participation of the East in the controversies of the West, relating
to the doctrine concerning THAN ὁ 0 τ cre e's cle cele ον οἷν Crete ev eenceee .
Theodore of Mopsuestia. His work against the system of Augustin.
Whether at a later period he joined in the condemnation of Julian ?
His Anthropology: man the image of God for the whole creation, the
bond of union to the entire universe. The necessary appearance of
sin in the state of mutability. His views respecting the law, and
respecting death. Exposition of Rom. 8:19 +++++++sereeeereeees
His point of contact with Pelagianism. Weakness of man’s nature, doc-
trine of freedom ; difference. In Theodore’s system, the doctrine of
redemption occupies an essential place ++ +++++++e++eeeseeeteeeeee
Chrysostom. Wis practical spirit. His quiet development. His rich
inward experience. His sphere of activity. His exposition of Rom.
5:19. Grace operates within, in proportion to the free determina-
tion of the will----++-eeeeeeee cere ee eceee ....{ὁ6ὁ i a Ἃ
Nestorius agrees essentially with Chrysostom. The occurrence with
the four Pelagian bishops, and his letter to Ceelestin. Memorial of
Marius Mercator. Nestorius’ letter of condolence to Celestius. Pe-
lagianism condemned by the Cyrillian council of Ephesus, out of com-
plaisance to Rome τσοοῦν «οἷο οἱ κ᾽ ἴοι κ᾽ οὐ αἱ 5. 5.55. 51.19.9 ςοο 6... “το οοοο το σεν .
Isidore of Pelusium. Seeds of goodness left even after the fall. Grace
needful for all — is ordinarily not prevenient — is not constraining - -
Doctrine of the Sacraments, 661—665.
sacramentum. Propensity to multiply
Greek church --++ee--+-+eeee ec eccee
Greater doctrinal strictness of Augustin. The virtus sacramenti and the
sacramentum. Outward symbols necessary for every religious society,
but the determinate form God might alter in the New Testament.
Necessity of a recipient state of mind. God’s grace not absolutely
connected withthe symbol. He sets distinctly forth, in opposition to
the Donatists, the objective significance of the sacraments. In the
New Testament, the religion of the spirit, signs few and simple: - --
Number of the sacraments still undetermined. The four sacraments of
Augustin Ai allan ον Ὁ μοὶ ove’ σα ἰδ aoleiale «)\6(c\le\eels)ls;e 610 Ce, viele sie cies 0 sie\'e a0
PAGE
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649—650
650—651
651
651—652
652—656
656—659
659
659—660
661
661—662
662—664
664—665
7
CHURCH HISTORY.
SECOND PERIOD OF THE HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
FROM THE END OF THE DIOCLESIAN PERSECUTION TO THE TIME
OF GREGORY THE GREAT, BISHOP OF ROME; OR FROM THE YEAR
812 TO THE YEAR 590.
SECTION FIRST.
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH TO THE WORLD. ITS EXTENSION
AND LIMITATION.
I. Wiryin THE Roman Empire.
A. Relation of the Roman Emperors to the Christian Church.
Tue Christian church had come forth victorious out of its last bloody
conflict in the Dioclesian persecution. The very author of the persecu-
tion, the Emperor Galerius himself, had been forced to acknowledge, _
that the power of conviction was not to be overcome by fire and sword.
But in truth no experience can subdue the obstinacy of fanaticism and
of despotism; and had not everything assumed another shape, under
the influence of a great political change in the Roman empire, deeply
affecting the history of the world, the attempt would, perhaps, even
after that last edict of toleration, have been renewed in many districts,
to suppress Christianity by force; as indeed it had often been the case
before, that the persecution, after a momentary pause, broke forth
again with increased violence.
One of the regents of that period was Caius Galerius Valerius Maxi-
minus, who ruled at first over Egypt and Syria; then, after the death
of his uncle Galerius in the year 311, made himself master of all the
Asiatic provinces ;— the bitterest enemy of Christianity and of the
Christians. Sprung from the lowest condition, — having been originally
a shepherd, — he was blindly devoted to all the popular superstitions of
Paganism, inclined by his own disposition to serve as a tool to the
priests, and possessed withal of a rough, violent, despotic temper. He
had no wish now, it is true, to be the only one among the regents of
the Roman empire to oppose the edict which had been issued by the
VOL. II. 1
2 MAXIMINUS.
oldest Augustus ; but still he could not be satisfied to publish it in the
same open manner in which it had been published in the other parts of
the empire. He had only directed, under the hand of his first officer
of state, Sabinus, the przetorian prefect, that it should be announced
to all the provincial magistrates, as the emperor’s will, that the Chris-
tians should no longer be molested. The prefect issued a mandate
which agreed in substance with the edict of Valerius: ‘ That it had
long been with the emperors an object of their most anxious desire, to
bring back the souls of all men to the right ways of a pious life; so
that those who followed any usage foreign from that of the Romans,
might be induced to pay to the immortal gods the homage which is due
‘to them: but such had been the obstinacy of many people, that they
would neither be drawn away from their purpose by a reasonable obe-
‘dience to the imperial command, nor awed by the punishments with
which they were threatened. Inasmuch, then, as their imperial majes-
ties! had graciously considered, that it would be contrary,to their mild
intentions to involve so many in danger, they had resolved that, for the
the future, no Christian should be punished or disturbed on account of
his religion; since it had been made evident by the experience of so
long a period, that they could in no way be persuaded to desist from
their own wilful determination.” 2
The more violent the persecution had been, especially in the coun-
tries subject to the government of Maximinus, the greater was the joy
of the Christians in those countries, when this command of the emperor
was everywhere put in execution. From their different places of exile,
from the prisons, from the mines in which they had been condemned to
labor, crowds of thankful Christians returned to their homes; and the
public wayfares resounded with their songs of praise. The churches
began to be rebuilt, and to be filled once more with worshipping assem-
blies. Scarcely for half a year did their joy and tranquillity remain
undisturbed. As was to be expected, the restoration of the Christian
churches, and the great number of those who now freely and publicly
eee in the religious services, excited afresh the fanatic rage of the
eathens, which could once more readily find an organ for its expres-
sion in that Maximinus, who, at heart, had never ceased to cherish his
blind zeal for the old idolatry, and his hatred of Christianity.
At first, they could not bear to see the enthusiasm which the memory
of the martyrs enkindled in the Christians who assembled at their
graves. It was very easy, too, in pretending fear lest some disturbance
- might happen to the public peace, to find a reason for prohibiting the
Christians from assembling at their places of burial — the cemeteries.
The religious views of the emperor being well known, the heathen
priests, conjurors and magistrates, in various cities both of his old and
of his new province, where from the earliest times the pagan worship
stood in high repute, and certain forms of it in particular were exhib-
1 The Numen dominorum nostrorum, 7 already the diplomatic language, then ex-
ϑειότης τῶν δεσποτῶν ἡμῶν, ---- 5. the debas- pressed itself. i
ing, idolatrous flattery which had become 2 Euseb. hist. eccles. 1. IX. ec. 1. De
mort. persecutor. c. 36.
HIS HOSTILITY TO THE CHRISTIANS. 3
ited with much antique display, (as at Antioch, Tyre, and Nicomedia
in Bithynia,) instigated their fellow-citizens to beg it as a favor of the
emperor, that no enemy to the gods of their fathers might be permitted
to dwell or practise his own rites of worship within their walls. In
part it was fanatical intolerance, and in part a spirit of servile flat-
tery, more anxious to obtain the favor of the prince than to promote the
honor of the gods, which dictated these petitions. Christian authors,
it is true, affirm, that the emperor himself secretly encouraged these
persons to present such petitions, that he might have a fair pretext for
persecuting the Christians.1 But it is plain that they do not here
report a fact which was known to themselves; but only represent as a
fact, the inference which they thought themselves warranted to draw,
from the manner in which Maximinus received such petitions, and from
his known disposition. The reception which these petitions met with
from the emperor was, at all events, without any further action on his
part, a sufficient encouragement to repeat them. ‘True, when he first
took possession of the Asiatic provinces, which had belonged to the
empire of Galerius; and when, on his arrival at Nicomedia, many of
the citizens appeared before him with the images of their gods, and
presented him, in the name of the city, a petition of this sort, he was
still just enough — unless we may suppose he was restrained for the
present by reasons of policy — to refuse granting their petition immedi-
ately. He caused himself, in the first place, to be informed of the true
state of things ; and on finding that there were many Christians in the
city, he told the deputies, that he would have been pleased to grant’
their request ; but he understood that it was not the wish of all the citi-
zens, and he desired to leave every man at liberty to follow his own
convictions.2, When, however, similar petitions came to him from other
cities, testifymg great zeal for the worship of the gods; when, more-
over, pious frauds, so called, were employed to operate on the mind of
the superstitious and credulous prince, —as at Antioch, where it was ἡ
said a voice had issued from a wonder-working statue of Jupiter Philios,
lately set up, and the god required that his enemies should be driven
from the city and its territory,? — Maximin could no longer maintain
that tone of impartiality which was so foreign from his nature. He
thought it due to the-honor of the gods, as he expressed it in the later
edict, those gods to whom the state owed its preservation, that he
should not reject a request which aimed at nothing but the promotion
of that honor. He not only granted such petitions, but expressed to
those who presented them, his particular approbation of their pious dis-
position. At Tyre, he caused to be publicly fixed up, in answer to a
proposal of this sort, and as an encouraging token of his satisfaction
1 Thus De mortib. persecut. c. 36: Sub-
ornatis legationibus civitatum, que pete-
rent, ne intra civitates suas Christianis
conventicula extruere liceret, ut quasi coac-
tus et impulsus facere videratur, quod erat
sponte facturus; and Euseb. IX. 2: Αὐτὸς
ἑαυτῷ Kal’ ἡμῶν πρεσβεύεται.
3 This is stated by Maximin himself, in
the edict which he subsequently published
in favor of the Christians, and which Euse-
bius, after his usual manner, has translated
in very obscure language from the Latin
original ; or else it was composed in a very
barbarous diplomatic style.
8 Euseb. 1X. 3
4 MAXIMINUS.
with its pious spirit, a laudatory writing, composed in the pompous,
declamatory style of the rhetorical schools of that period, by some mas-
ter or pupil of the same. Among other things it was here said: ‘ That
highest and greatest Jupiter, who presides over your famous city, who
saved the gods of your fathers, your wives, children, hearths and homes
from every pestilent infection, he it was who inspired your souls with .
this wholesome purpose, revealing to you how noble and salutary it is,
to approach the worship of the immortal gods with becoming reverence.”
Next is set forth in swollen expressions, how, by the renewed worship
of the gods, men had been delivered from the distresses of famine and
of war, from contagious pestilence, and other public calamities, which
formerly had been brought on by the guilt of the Christians: — “ For
these things happened in consequence of the pernicious error of those
reckless men, when it had taken possession of their souls, and covered
almost the whole world with disgrace.”’ It is then said of the Chris-
tians: ‘If they persist in their accursed folly, let them be banished,
as you demand, far from your city and its territory.”” And that they
themselves might know with what good will the emperor received their
proposition, they were invited to ask for some special favor, which
should be granted them at once, as a memorial to their children and
childrens’ children of their piety towards the immortal gods.!
In every way, Maximin sought to restore the splendor of Paganism,
and, by giving new power and new consequence to its zealous votaries,
to supplant the Christians, without publishing any new edict against
them. ‘The appointment to sacerdotal offices in the provinces had hith-
erto been lodged with the senatorial colleges, (the collegio decurionum,
curialium, ) who chose to such posts, those of their own number who had
been already tried in various municipal employments. But Maximin
now reserved the appointment to such places in his own hands, that he
might be sure to have promoted to them the most distinguished men of
the senate, and those from whom he could expect the most zealous and
influential exertions to reanimate Paganism. ‘To the highest posts of
the sacerdotal colleges he chose, in fact, men who had already filled the
higher civil offices; and, to procure for them greater respect, he gave
them the mantle of glistening white, inwrought with gold, which before
was the distinguishing badge of the court offices.”
Trials before Pilate (acta Pilati) were now forged, full of blasphe-
mies against Christ. These fabricated documents were distributed
through the city and country schools, in order that hatred to Christian-
1 The edict, in a Greek translation, is in sian persecution; and special pains were
This
Eusebius, IX. 7.
2 Buseb. 1X. 4. De mortib. p. c. 36.
8 Buseb. IX. 5. Still earlier than this,
there may have been various recensions of
the acta Pilati by Christians and Pagans;
and so this new device of malice may have
sprung out of some older root. Perhaps,
also, it is inexact, when it is said, that those
acta were then forged for the first time;
perhaps the fanatical hate of the Pagans
had already devised some contrivance of
this sort in the earlier times of the Diocle-
now taken to put it in circulation.
we are obliged to suppose, if these acta are
altogether the same with those to which a
pagan priest, in some earlier year of the
Dioclesian persecution, appealed before a
tribunal as testimony against the divinity
of Christ. Acta Tarachi, Probi, et Andro-
nici, c. 9. His words to the Christians are:
Μῶρε, τοῦτο οὐκ οἷδας, 71, ὅν ἐπικαλῇ, avdpw-
πόν τινα γεγενημένον κακοῦργον, ὑπὸ ἐξουσίᾳ
δὲ Πιλάτου τινός ἡγεμόνος ἀνηρτῆσϑαι oTav-
pd, ὅν καὶ ὑπομνηματα κατακεῖνται;
CONSTANTINE. 5
- ity might be seasonably instilled into the minds of the children, —a
well-chosen means, no doubt, for giving currency to convictions such as
men wished to have them.
The declamatory notice above cited, that public calamities were
warded off by the worship of the gods, was soon refuted by experience.
There was a failure of harvest, and a famine; pestilential disorders
raged. Meanwhile the Christians chose the best way to manifest the
spirit of their faith, and to show the Heathens the groundlessness of
their accusations.! They collected the whole multitude of the starving
population in the city (probably Nicomedia) into one place, and dis-
tributed bread to them. ‘Thus it might be that more was accomplished
by this work of faith, than could have been effected by any demonstra-
tion of words ; that, as Eusebius says,? the Heathens praised the Chris-
tians’ God, and pronounced the Christians themselves to be the only truly
pious and God-fearmg men. Lut there is always a fanaticism which
the strongest facts can neither confute nor embarrass.
Although no new edicts of a sanguinary character were issued, yet
it could not fail to be the case, under the impulse of freshly excited
passions, the outbreaks of which were rather favored than checked by
the supreme power of the state, that-in various scattered spots the blood
of the martyrs would flow copiously. Individuals who, by their zeal
for the spread of the faith, and by the authority in which they stood
among their fellow-believers, had drawn particularly upon themselves
the hatred of the governors or of the emperor, suffered martyrdom.
Instances of this kind occurred at Emesa in Phoenicia, at Alexandria, -
and at Antioch.3 This was the last martyr’s blood which flowed in
consequence of the Dioclesian persecution. From the West began a
train of events, which placed the whole Christian church in a different -
relation to the civil power in the Roman state ; “and the influence of
these events soon extended, at least indirectly, to the Eastern portion
of the empire.
Constantine, the son of Constantius Chlorus, was the individual by
whom this change was brought about. ‘The manner in which it took
place had an important influence on the entire shaping of the church
within the bounds of the Roman empire, during the period commencing
with this epoch. In order to a correct understanding of the whole
matter, it is certainly much to be desired, that we possessed better
means of information respecting the early religious education of the
person from whom all this proceeded. But, as often happens, the facts
which have reached us concerning the mental development of the author
of a great outward change in the history of the world, are scanty and
meagre; and it only remains for us to gather our conclusions from a
few scattered hints.
His father, Constantius Chlorus, was, as we have already remarked
in another place, friendly to the Christians, and probably a follower of
that species of religious eclecticism which united Christ along with the
gods of Rome. His mother, Helena, the first wife of Constantius, be-
1 Compare the similar example in the 217,.9, 6. 8.
first volume. 8 Kuseb. IX. c. 6.
VOL. II. ;
6 CONSTANTINE’S EARLY HISTORY.
comes known, at a somewhat later period, as a zealous Christian accord-
ing to the measure of her religious knowledge, — devoted and punctil-
ious in the performance of all the external duties of religion. There
are no existing grounds for supposing that she came to this conviction
suddenly, or that she was led to embrace it, in her later years, by the
example of her son. Nothing forbids us to suppose that she was, in
the earlier period of her life, if not a Christian, at least inclined to
Christianity.1 Possibly it was through her influence that this direction
had been given to the mind of her husband; since it not unfrequently
happened, that the husband came to the knowledge of Christianity
through means of the wife. Shght as must have been the immediate
influence of his parents on the education of Constantine, who was so
early removed from their side ; yet it may well be supposed, that the
religious principles of the parents would not fail to make some impres-
sion on the mind of their son. The Christians being at that time so
numerous and so widely dispersed, Constantine would, without doubt,
frequently come in contact with them ; and, as we may readily suppose,
they would neglect no opportunity which offered, of making the prince
favorably disposed towards their religion and their party. While a
youth, he resided at the court of Dioclesian; and afterwards at that
of Galerius. He witnessed at Nicomedia the out-burst of the persecu-
tion against the Christians.2_ This example of blood-thirsty fanaticism
could have no other effect, than to revolt his youthful, and in respect
to such proceedings, unprejudiced mind. When he compared the
religious tolerance of his father with the spirit which he here saw dis-
played, it was no difficult task for him to decide, which way of think-
ing would best contribute to promote the tranquillity and well-being of
the state. He witnessed here, too, such proofs of the power of Chris-
tian faith, as might well make an impression on him. He saw there
was something in Christianity, which ‘was not to be subdued by fire and
sword.
In the next following years, after Constantine, as his father’s succes-
sor, had been proclaimed Augustus, in 806, by the legions in Britain,
he appears to have been still attached to the pagan forms of worship.
When, in the year 308, after the successful termination of the war with
1 Nothing certain is known with regard to ism, still cherished a certain veneration for
the relations between Helena and her son
as to this matter. Theodoret, it is true, says
expressly, (H. E. 1. I. c. 18,) that Constan-
tine received his first impressions of Chris-
‘tianity from her; but we cannot be sure
that his authority for this statement is de-
serving of confidence. Eusebius might have
been more correctly informed ; and he says,
(de vita Constant. 1. III. c. 47,) it was by
means of Constantine that his mother first
became a Christian, — ϑεοσεβὴ καταστη-
σάντα, οὐκ ovaav πρότερον. But we should
remark, that Eusebius was strongly inclined
to turn everything to the advantage of his
hero; and that it is in nowise inconsistent
with this statement, to suppose that Helena,
while professing to be on the side of Heathen-
Φ
Christ, as a divine being, and was disposed
to favor Christianity.
2 See the religious discourse which the
Christian emperor is said to have pro-
‘nounced before a Christian assembly — Ora-
tio ad sanctorum ccetum, appended to the
life of this emperor by Eusebius, c. 25.
Though it assuredly cannot be supposed
that the discourse was delivered by the em-
peror- precisely as it stands here, yet the
substance of it is nevertheless not wholly
unlike what we might naturally expect from
him. Compare also what Constantine says
concerning the persecution of Dioclesian,
in his proclamation issued in the East, af-
ter the victory over Licinius. Euseb. de
vita Constantin. 1. II. ς. 49.
STORY OF THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 7
᾿ that Maximianus Herculius who had a second time set himself up as
emperor, he received the unexpected intelligence, that the Franks,
against whom he was just commencing a campaign, had ceased from
their hostile demonstrations, he gave public thanks in a celebrated tem-
ple of Apollo, probably at Autun, (Augustodunum,) and presented a
magnificent offering to the god.1 From this circumstance we may
gather, not only that Constantine still professed an attachment to the
old heathen ceremonies, but also that he did not belong to the class of
warriors and princes who make no account of the religious interest, and
who, strangers to all emotions and impulses of that nature, have an eye
only to the human means of prosecuting their undertakings. He be-
lieved himself to be indebted for his good fortune to the protection of
a god.
Tt was not until after his victory over the tyrant Maxentius,” that
Constantine publicly declared in favor of the Christians. ‘The question
here presents itself, whether, as we must suppose according to one of
the traditions, it was this victory itself, in connection with the extraor-
dinary circumstances preceding it, which gave this new and decided
direction, not to the public conduct only, but also to the religious opin-
ions, of this emperor.
According to Eusebius,? the way in which this important change was
brought about, was as follows: — Maxentius, in making his prepara-
tions for the war, had scrupulously observed all the customary ceremo-
nies of Paganism, and was relying for success on the agency of super-
natural powers. Hence Constantine was the more strongly persuaded, °
that he ought not to place his whole confidence in an arm of flesh. He
revolved in his mind, to what god it would be suitable for him to apply
for aid. The misfortunes of the last emperors, who had been so zeal-
ously devoted to the cause of Paganism, and the example of his father,
who had trusted in the one true and almighty God alone, admonished
him that he also should place confidence in' no other. To this God, -
therefore, he applied, praying that he would reveal himself to him,
and lend him the protection of his arm in the approaching contest.
While thus praying, a short time after noon,* he beheld, spread on the
face of the heavens, a glittering cross, and above it the inscription: ‘ By
this conquer.°”? The emperor and his whole army, now just about to
commence their march towards Italy, were seized with awe. While
Constantine was still pondering the import of this sign, night came
on; and in a dream Christ appeared to him, with the same symbol
which he had seen in the heavens, and directed him to cause a banner
1 Eumenii Panegyricus Constantini,¢.21. side the interest of their party. Euseb. H. E.
2 Maxentius, son of Maximianus Hercu- 1. VIII. c. 14.
lius, had seized upon the sovereignty in Ita- | ® De vita Constant. ¢. 1. 27.
ly and in North Africa; and by his aban-
doned and voluptuous life, his oppressions,
and his despotic acts in every way, had
rendered himself alike odious to Heathens
and to Christians ; though at Rome he had
in the outset showed himself favorable to
the Christians, with a view to secure on his
4 The obscure language of Eusebius:
ἀμφὶ μεσημβρινὰς ὥρας, ἤδη τῆς ἡμέρας ἀποκ-
τινούσης. is, I think, most naturally inter-
preted by supposing the last clause to
contain a limitation of the first.
5 'Τούτῳ νίκα, undoubtedly, in the native
language of the emperor and of the Roman
soldiers : Hoc vince.
8 CONSTANTINE.
to be prepared after the same pattern, and to use it as his protection
against the power of the enemy. ‘The emperor obeyed: he caused
to be made, after the pattern he had ‘seen, the resplendent banner of
the cross, (called the Labarum,) on the shaft of which was affixed, with
the symbol of the cross, the monogram (PR) of the name of Christ.
He then sent for Christian teachers, of whom he inquired concerning
the God that had appeared to him, and the import of the symbol. This ᾿
gave them an opportunity of instructing him in the knowledge of Chris-
tianity.
Taking the account of Eusebius as literally true, we should have to
recognize in this occurrence a real miracle. We should be the less
tempted to separate the fact at bottom from the subjective conception
and representation of it by the narrator, and thus to reduce it from the
form of a supernatural to that of a natural phenomenon, because the
pagan army, which Constantine was leading from Gaul, and which,
according to the pagan rhetorician Libanius, conquered, praying to the
gods,} is said also to have beheld the words inscribed in the heavens.
But the supposition of a miracle here, is one which has in itself noth-
ing to recommend it, especially when we consider, that the conversion,
as it is called, of the Roman emperor, such as it really was, could in
nowise possess the same significance in the sight of God, who respect-
eth not the person, but looks upon the heart alone as an acceptable sac-
rifice, as it had in the eyes of men dazzled and deceived by outward
show. In this particular way, it is scarcely possible to conceive that a
change of heart, which is the only change that deserves to be called a
conversion, could have been wrought. Much rather might we presume
that, in this way, the emperor would be misled to combine pagan super-
stition with a mere coloring of Christianity. And were we to judge of
the end which this miracle was designed to subserve, by the general
consequences of the emperor’s conversion on the Christian church with-
in the Roman empire, it might be questioned. whether these conse-
quences were really so benign in their influence on the progress of the
kingdom of God, as they were imagined to be, by those persons who,
dazzled by outward show, saw in the external power and splendor of the
Christian church a triumph of Christianity.
But, aside from all this, in order to suppose a real miracle, we need
better testimony to the truth of the facts, as they are stated by Huse-
bius. The only witness is Constantine himself, who, many years after
the event, had related the circumstances to this writer.2 But, in the
case of Constantine himself, it might easily happen, that what was in
itself a natural phenomenon, would, by his own subjective apprehension
1 Liban. ὑπὲρ τῶν lepdv, ed. Reiske, vol.
II. p. 160, καϑαιρεῖ μὲν τὸν περιυβρισάντα
τὴν ῥώμην ὁ γαλατῶν ἐπ’ αὐτὸν ἀγαγὼν στρα-
τόπεδον, δι ϑεοῖς ἐπῆλϑον πρότερον εὐξάμε-
vol.
2 As Eusebius does not mention this in
his Church History, and yet we can hardly
suppose that, when he composed this histo-
ry, he did not know something about it
through the popular tradition of the Chris-
tians, we must explain the cireumstance b
supposing that what he then knew about it,
seemed to him either not well authenticat-
ed, or else not important enough for his
purpose; for it was then his opinion that
Constantine, following the example of his
father, was already a Christian, and marched
against Maxentius, calling on God and
Christ to assist him.
STORY OF THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 9
of it, by the power of fancy, the length of the intervening time, the
wish to be regarded by the bishops as a person peculiarly favored of
God, gradually assume to itself the shape of a miracle. Add to this,
that Eusebius himself, in the character of a rhetorical panegyrist, might
indulge in some exaggeration.
His story is not wholly consistent with itself; but contains, besides
the miraculous part of it, much that seems altogether improbable.
Constantine must have received some knowledge of the God of the
Christians from his father ; yet he inquires who he is. It seems that
he needed to be informed what was meant by the symbol of the cross ;
but the import of this sign, which appeared in the daily life of every
Christian, and concerning the supernatural influence of which so much
was said, could at that time hardly remain unknown to any one who
was in the habit of associating with Christians. The very style of the
narration, then, as drawn up by Eusebius, would lead us of itself to be
cautious how we take everything it contains as literally true; and to
conjecture that a natural phenomenon was the basis of what he has rep-
resented as a supernatural event. Now we do actually find other
accounts, which may, perhaps, be traced back to a still older and purer
source, — to an account given by Constantine, or by Christians who
were with him, soon after the event, — and which point more directly
to a natural incident. According to Rufinus, he sees, in a dream,
towards the East, the flaming sign of a cross; and, waking in a fright,
beholds at his side an angel, who exclaims: ““ By this conquer.”? The .
work, “ De mortibus persecutorum,” reports, that he was directed
in a vision to cause the sign of the Christian’s God to be placed on the
shields of his soldiers.2 These statements point to a psychological ex-
planation. Yet we must admit, that what then transpired in the mind
of Constantine would have an important influence on his way of think-
ing and on his conduct in regard to matters of religion.
But it may be doubted, whether we have sufficient warrant for adopt-
ing this hypothesis. It is possible that the whole story may have sprung
up after the event. In the eyes of both Pagans and Christians, the
victory over Maxentius was an event of the utmost importance. Pagans
and Christians were at that time inclined, each party in their own way,
to introduce, under such circumstances, the aid of higher powers ; and
the rhetorical panegyrists especially contributed to the propagation of
such legends. Pagans saw, in this case, the gods of the eternal city,
engaged to deliver them from the disgraceful yoke. Among them, ac-
cordingly, was circulated the legend of a heavenly army, seen in the
air, and sent by the gods to the succor of Constantine.? Among the
Christians, on the other hand, the story was propagated of an appear-
1 Rufin. hist. eccles. 1. IX. ¢. 9.
2De πὶ. p. 6. 44. Commonitus est in
quiete Constantinus ut ceeleste signum Dei
(the monogram of Christ) notaret in scutis
atque ita prelium committeret
Nazarii Panegyricus in Constantin, 6,
14. In ore denique est omnium Galliarum,
exercitus visos, qui se divinitus missos pra
se ferebant. The words are even put into
their mouth: Constantinum petimus, Con-
stantino imus auxilio. And the pitiable
flattery adds to this: Hahent profecto et
divina jactantiam, et ccelestia quoque tangit
ambitio. Illi, divinitus missi, gloriabantur
quod tibi militabant.
10 CONSTANTINE.
ance of the cross. Constantine having been observed, in the later
years of his life, to show a peculiar veneration for the cross, men would
fain trace this habit to the fact, that it was by the aid of the cross he
had obtained his victory; and by an anachronistic combination of
events which is of no unfrequent occurrence, they referred many
things, which belonged. to a later period of the reign of Constantine, -
as for instance, the erection of the banner of the cross, back to the
present time. In the latter part of his life, Constantine may have
acknowledged this account of the popular tradition, to give himself im-
portance in the eyes of the Christians; perhaps, by degrees, persuad-
ing himself that the event had actually so happened. ‘This, we must
admit, is possible. But, in this case, we should have to trace’ those
regulations of Constantine in favor of the Christian church, which im-
mediately ensued, to some other cause. It is altogether inadmissible,
however, to explain these regulations as resulting from the policy of
Constantine. In gaining over the Christian party to his side, he lost
ground with the Heathen ; and yet the Heathen party, if not the most
numerous, was for the most part still in possession of the power. Many
things, moreover, are to be observed in the proceedings of Constantine,
after this time, which assuredly do not admit of being explained from
any plan of policy, but only on the ground of a peculiar religious in-
terest. From what has been said above, however, respecting the early
education of Constantine, we might very easily account for the fact,
even without resorting to the vision of the cross, that, like Alexander
Severus and Philip the Arabian, he had become convinced that the God
of the Christians was a powerful Divine Being, who was to be wor-
shipped along with the ancient gods of the nation; and that he was
led, after the defeat of Maxentius, when his power was increased, and
he had obtained the sovereignty over those lands where Christianity
had become more widely diifused, to express, in his public and civil acts,
a conviction which he had already long entertained.
But although the origin of this legend might be thus explained, and
although we are not driven to a fact of this sort in order to account
for the conduct of Constantine towards the Christian church, yet we
ought not, without weighty reasons, to reject the legend altogether ;
nor should we, without weighty reasons, charge Constantine with a
partly intentional fraud ; especially as he himself here furnishes us with
a key to explain his way of thinking and acting in matters of religion,
_ which is in every respect exceedingly well suited to that end, and
which in many ways is proved to be the right one. We have already
observed that Constantine, in his wars, was in the habit of looking to
the gods for assistance.! Christian and Pagan historians are agreed,
that Maxentius, whose superstition, as it. frequently happens, was equal
to his crimes, offered many sacrifices to secure the victory on his side ; and
that he relied more upon supernatural powers than upon the might of
his arms.2 Even in the later period of Constantine’s life, we meet
1 Comp. with the above remark, the coins invicto comiti. Eckhel,doctrinanummorum
of Constantine with the inscription: Soli veterum, vol. 8, p. 75.
2 Vid. Zosim, 1. II. ο. 16.
STORY OF THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 11
with many things which show that he dreaded the effects of the pagan
rites. Supposing this to be the case, we may readily conceive that he,
too, would wish to have some superior power on his own side ; and that
with this feeling, in accordance with the pagan mode of thinking,
which, for the most part, still clung to him, his attention would be
directed to watch for signs in the heavens, from which he could gather
an omen.! In his intercourse with the Christians, he had heard of the
miraculous power of the cross; he already believed in the God of the
Christians as a powerful being. ΝΟΥ͂ it is very possible, that, either of
himself, or at the suggestion of Christians about his person, he imagined
he perceived, in the shape of the clouds, or in some other object, a sign
of the cross, —the Christians being disposed to trace their favorite
symbol in almost every object of nature. The vision in his sleep, which
perhaps immediately followed, admits itself also, in this case, of an
easy explanation. ‘Thus, then, Constantine was led to conceive the
hope that, by the power of the God of the Christians and the sacred
symbol of the cross, he should conquer.2 He obtained the victory,
and now felt that he was mdebted for it to the God of the Christians.
The sign of the cross became his amulet, of which fact we find many
and various indications in the ensuing life of Constantine. After the
victory, he caused to be erected in the Forum at Rome his own statue,
holding in the right hand a standard, in the shape of a cross, with the
following inscription beneath it: “‘ By this salutary sign, the true symbol
of valor, I freed your city from the yoke of the tyrant.” ? He was after-
wards in the frequent habit of making this sign, (to which he ascribed
a supernatural power of protection) on the most ordinary occasions, and
was often observed to draw the cross upon his forehead.+*
This hypothesis is rendered probable, by similar examples belonging
to the same period, where superstition became the way to faith, and
men who imagined they perceived supernatural effects to proceed from ἡ
1 We may compare the ϑεοσημία in Eu-
sebius vita Const. I. 28, with a διοσημεῖον.
2 Although the remark is certainly just
in itself, that the Christian historians were
very ready to imagine they saw the sign of
the cross where there was nothing of the
kind, yet there are no existing grounds for
applying this remark, with Eckhel and
Manso, to all the monuments belonging to
the time of Constantine, and for regarding
the Labarum as no more than an ordinary
Roman banner; still less is there any good
reason for seeckmg in the Attic antiquities
an explanation of the monogram of Christ,
the meaning of which is so obvious.
ὃ Euseb. hist. eccles. IX. 9, de v. C. IT.
40. Τούτῳ τῷ σωτηριώδει σημείω, τῷ ἀληϑι-
νῷ ἐλέγχῳ τῆς ἀνδρίας, τὴν πόλιν ὑμων ἀπὸ
ζύγου τοῦ τυράννου διασωϑεῖσαν ἐλευϑερῶσα.
Rufinus has it, hoe singulari signo: he
seems, however, not to have had before him
the original Latin words ; but, in his usual
way, to give an arbitrary translation of the
Greek words in Eusebius. As Eusebius
lays a peculiar stress on the word σωτηριώ-
δῆς, we may conclude that in the Latin there
was something exactly corresponding to it,
as “salutari.” Now unquestionably it may
be said, that the emperor had perhaps caused
himself to be represented simply with a Ro-
man hasta, (δόρυ σταυροῦ σχήματι, says Eu-
sebius,) and that it was only the word “ salu-
tare,” and some accidental peculiarity in
the shape of the spear, coupled with what
was known respecting Constantine in his
later life, which led to the explanation of
that symbol as the cross; but the truth is,
we have not the least warrant for accusing
Eusebius of any such misapprehension, es-
pecially when we consider that in his Church
History, where this circumstance is already
related, nothing as yet occurs respecting
the supernatural appearance of the cross,
The language certainly applies more natu-
rally to the symbol of the cross than to an
ordinary spear; yet we should remember
that, in the language of Constantine, Ro-
man and Christian notions flow together.
4 Euseb. HT. 2. Td πρόσωπον τῷ σωτῇ
ρίῳ κατασφραγιζόμενος σημείῳ.
12 CONSTANTINE AND LICINIUS.
the sign of the cross in the common occurrences of life, were thereby
first led to repose faith in the God of the Christians. Examples of
this sort occur also at other periods, as, for instance, in the conversion
of warlike princes, such as Clovis and Qlof Trygweeson.
In this way we may best explain how in Constantine’s mind there
was at first only a mixture of Heathen with Christian views, — how at.
first he could worship the God of the Christians along with the gods of
Paganism, until, gradually led on by the conviction that this his patron
God had procured him the victory over all his enemies, and made him
master of the whole Roman empire, in order that His own worship
might by his means become universally diffused, he came at length to
believe that this God was the Almighty Being who alone deserved to
be worshipped, and that the gods of the Heathen were malignant
spirits, opposed to the only true God — spirits whose kingdom was,
through his instrumentality, to be destroyed. In the first instance, his
religious convictions moved him, in conformity with his eclecticism,
simply to grant equal toleration and freedom to all the religions exist-
ing in the Roman empire; and this, certainly, was the course best
suited, under the existing circumstances, to secure tranquillity to the
state. His peculiar veneration for the God of the Christians moved
him to give special distinction to the Christian worship, without preju-
dice to the old Roman religion. The Paganism of Greece and Rome
was, in fact, as the religion of the state, already in possession of the
privileges ; the Christian worship, hitherto oppressed, had yet to be ele-
vated to the same rank with the other.
The first law relating to matters of religion, which Constantine
enacted in common with Licinius, has not come down to us. The
nature of its contents, therefore, can be gathered only from the char-
acter of the second law, published in the following year, in which the
first is said to be amended. But this latter rescript has also come
down to us in a form which renders the attempt to do this both difficult
and unsafe.2 It is most probable that, in the first rescript, all the reli-
gious parties then existing in the Roman empire — including the Chris-
tian party, with its various sects — were mentioned by name, and then
the free exercise of their religion accorded to all the members of these
ΤῈ the poem of Severus, belonging to
the fifth century, which may be taken as a
picture drawn from real life, the pagan
shepherd is led to embrace the. faith, from
‘ observing, as he supposes, that the fold of
the Christian shepherd is preserved by the
sign of the cross from the contagious mur-
rain which fell on the other folds. He con-
cludes:
Nam cur addubitem, quin homini quoque
Signum prosit idem perpeti saeculo,
Quo vis morbida vincitur?
In the same manner, a warrior, from ob-
serving, as he supposes, the power of the
sign of the cross in battle, becomes more
inclined to the faith.
2 We have this rescript in an abbreviated
form, in the book de mort. persecut. chap. 48.
Conditions are here spoken of, by which the
free exercise of the Christian worship
seemed to have been limited in the first
rescript: the nature of these conditions,
however, is not mentioned. In the next
place, we have the same, after a Greck trans-
lation, in the Church History of Eusebius,
(X. 5,) but somewhat obscurely expressed,
as Such translations from the Latin in Eu-
sebius usually are, (and perhaps distorted
from the true sense by various misappre
hensions of the Latin original.) Yet wa
may infer, even from a comparison of Eu-
sebius with the passage in the book de mor.
tibus, that the translation was made from a
somewhat different form of the rescript,
than that which is found in the book de
mortibus.
THEIR FIRST AND SECOND EDICTS. 13
different religious parties. This, however, was so expressed, that it
might at least be interpreted to mean, that each individual was allowed
indeed to follow, with unlimited freedom, the principles of that religious
party with which he happened to be connected when this rescript ap-
peared; but could not be permitted to leave the religious party with
which he then happened to be connected, in order to unite himself with
another! This addition must have been felt to be a great constraint,
especially by the Christians ; for it may be conceived that under a new
government, so favorable to the Christians, many who had heretofore
been held back by fear, would wish to go over to the Christian church.
The attention of the emperor having been directed to the injurious con-
sequences of the first law, he published at Milan, in the year 313, in
common with Licinius, a second edict, in which it was declared, with-
out mentioning by name any of the different religious parties, that, in
general, every one might be permitted to adopt the principles of the
religious party which he held to be right ; and, in particular, every one
without exception to profess Christianity. This rescript contained, in
fact, far more than the first edict of toleration published by the emperor
Gallienus ; since, by the latter, Christianity was merely received into
the class of the veligiones licite of the Roman empire ; while this new
law implied the introduction of a universal and unconditional religious
1 Jn the book de mortibus, it says in the
second rescript: amotis omnibus omnino con-
ditionibus, que (in) prius scriptis ad officium
tuum datis super Christianorum nomine
videbantur. If we chose to take the word
αἵρεσις in the expression of Eusebius, ἀφαι-
ρεϑείσων παντελῶς TOY αἱρέσεων, aS synony-
mous with conditio, then Eusebius would
agree word for word with the book de mor-
tibus ; but to take the word αἵρεσις as mean-
ing simply the same thing with conditio, is
what neither the general usage of the Greek
language, nor the way in which Eusebius
uniformly employs this-word in the rescript,
will permit. It always retains in Eusebius
the significations, choice, choice arising from
free conviction, the religious sect which one
embraces from conviction, hence sect in
general. If the word αἵρεσις in this rescript
occurred nowhere else in Eusebius, it might
be said, that the translator had misunder-
stood the Latin word conditiones; as in fact
it seems quite evident that in one passage
of the rescript an error of translation has
arisen out of a misunderstanding of the
Latin, where the question relates to the in-
demnity which those were to receive, who
gave up to the churches the landed estates
they had been deprived of, and where in the
book de mortibus the rescript runs thus:
Si putaverint, de nostra benevolentia aliquid
vicarium postulent (if they think good to
do so, they may ask of our benevolence
some indemnity.) and where the translator
in Eusebius understands the word vicarium
as a masculine noun, designating the name
of an office ; hence reads the passage as if it
VOL. II.
stood thus: aliquid Vicarium postulent,
(may demand something from the Vicarius
of the province,) and translates, προσέλϑω- .
σι τῷ ἐπὶ τόπων ᾿Επάρχῳ δικαζόντι. But
since the same word occurs several times in
a similar connection in Eusebius, and since,
moreover, as we have remarked, the form
of the original document as known to Eu-
sebius, and the form of the rescript in the
book de mortibus, seem not to have been in
all respects the same, we are: not warranted
to suppose here a misconstruction of words,
but must rather endeayor to gather the
nature of the-conditions, which are not clear-
ly stated in the book de mortibus, from
the rescript in its more detailed form, as it
appears in Eusebius. The connection in
Eusebius is as follows: as in the first re-
script many sects of different kinds seem to
have been expressly added, the case was
perhaps, that many belonging to the above-
named sects, soon after the appearance of
this rescript, abandoned their previous reli-
gion, (ἀπὸ τῆς τοιαυτῆς παραφυλάξεως ἀνε-
κρούοντο.) -These now seemed by that re-
script, which extended religious freedom
expressly to the then members of the re-
spective sects, to be hindered from passing
over to any other religious party ; — hence
in the second edict it was determined, ὁπῶς
μηδένι παντελῶς ἐξουσία ἀρνητέα ἢ τοῦ ἀκο-
λουϑεῖν καὶ αἱρείσϑαι τὴν τῶν χριστιανῶν
παραφυλάξιν ἢ ϑρησκείαν, ἑκάστῳ τὲ ἐξουσία
δοϑεῖη τοῦ διδόναι ἑαυτοῦ τὴν διάνοιαν ἐν
ἐκείνῃ τῇ ϑρησκείᾳ ἣν αὐτός ἑαυτῷ ἀρμόζειν
νομίζῃ.
14 FORMAL REPORT CONCERNING THE SECTS.
freedom and liberty of conscience ; a thing, in fact, wholly new, and in
direct contradiction with the political and religious mode of thinking
which had hitherto prevailed, grounded on the dominant state religion ;
—a principle which, without the indirect influence of Christianity,
would hardly have been brought to light, although the ground on which
this general toleration was established, in the present instance, is by no
means the purely Christian position. The emperors expressly declared
it to be their intention, that the interest of no religion whatever should
seem to be injured by them:? and for this they assign political and reli-
gious motives ; first, that it would be conducive to the tranquillity of the
times; and, secondly, that it might conciliate the good will of whatever
there was, possessed of a divine and heavenly nature, to the emperor and
his subjects.”
While under the influence of this eclectic liberality, it was really of
great importance to Constantine that he should be accurately informed
respecting the different religious sects in the Roman empire, and
especially respecting those which were little known and much decried,
(as, for example, the Manichean sect,) in order to see whether he
might not, consistently with the welfare of the state, extend the above-
mentioned toleration to these sects also. He made it the special duty
of Strategius, a man well fitted for this business by his education and
learning, to examine fully into the character of the different sects, par-
ticularly of the Manicheans, and to draw up for him a report on the
whole matter.® ;
He at the same directed with regard to the Christians, that the
places of assembly and other estates which belonged to the Christian
church, but which had been publicly confiscated in the Dioclesian per-
secution, should be restored to the original proprietors. But he did
this with a just provision for the indemnification of those private indi-
viduals who had purchased these estates, or received them as presents.
In this case, too, he assigned as the reason of his conduct, ‘that the
public tranquillity would thereby be promoted, since, by this method of
proceeding, the care of the divine Providence, which we have already
experienced in many things, will remain secure to us through all tire.”
This union of two Augustuses to promote the interests of the Chris-
tians would necessarily have a favorable influence upon their situation
in the other provinces. As the two emperors transmitted their laws
also to Maximinus, who then stood on good terms with them, the latter,
from special considerations, would be unwilling alone to exasperate the
“ Christians against himself. He wished to introduce a change in his
3 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XV. ¢.13. Con-
1 Ὅπως μηδεμίᾳ τιμῇ μηδέ ϑρησκειᾷ τινι
ί stantinus cum limatius superstitionum
ὠεμειῶσϑαι τὶ ὑφ᾽ ἡμῶν δοκοίη.
2"Orwe ὅτι ποτε ἔστι ϑειότης καὶ οὐράνιου
πράγματος, ἡμῖν καὶ πᾶσι τοῖς ὑπὸ τὴν ἦμε-
τέραν ἐξουσίαν διάγουσιν, εὐμένες εἷναι δυνῆ-
ϑη. In the book de mortibus: quod quidem
should perhaps be, quid quid est,) divinitas
perhaps divinitatis) in sede ccelesti nobis
atque omnibus, qui sub potestate nostra
sunt constituti, placatum ac propitium pos-
sit existere.
quereret sectas, Manichzorum et similium,
nec interpres inveniretur idoneus, hunc sibi
commendatum ut sufficientem elegit. Hav-
ing fulfilled this duty to the satisfaction of
the emperor, he was afterwards called by
him Musonianus, rose to a still higher post,
and finally became preefectus pratorio in
the East.
THE CHRISTIANS FAVORED. EDICT OF MAXIMINUS. 15
conduct towards that class of his subjects, without appearing to contra-
dict his previous regulations, and to accommodate himself to influences
from another quarter; but to do this he was obliged to resort to vari-
ous shifts and evasions. In a rescript addressed to Sabinus, his pra-
torian prefect, he declared it to be generally known, that Dioclesian
and Maximian, when they observed how almost all were forsaking
the worship of the gods and joining themselves to the Christian party,
had rightly decreed that whoever forsook the worship of the immortal
gods should be brought back again to the same by open punishments.
But when he first came to the East,! and found that very many such
people, who might be serviceable to the state, had on this ground been
banished by the judges to certain places, he had given directions to the
several judges, that they should no longer use forcible measures with
the inhabitants of the provinces, but rather endeavor to bring them
back to the worship of the gods by friendly persuasion and admonition.
Now so long as the judges had acted agreeably to these directions, no
one in the Eastern provinces had been exiled or otherwise treated with
violence ; but for the very reason, that no forcible measures were em-
ployed against them, they had been reclaimed to the worship of the
gods. ‘The emperor proceeds to explain how he had been afterwards
induced to yield to the petitions of certain heathen cities, who were un-
willing to tolerate any Christians within their walls. He next renewed
the ordinance which secured the Christians against all oppressive meas-
ures, and forbade other means to be employed than those of kindness, .
for bringing his subjects to acknowledge the providence of the gods.
If any individual was led, out of his own free conviction, to profess
veneration for the gods, he should be joyfully received; but every
other one was to be left to his own inclination, and no reproachful and
oppressive conduct was to be allowed in any man. ‘This will of the
emperor was everywhere to be made publicly known. But although
this was done, yet the Christians had so little confidence in the disposi-
tion of the man who had deceived them once already; the rescript
itself wore so plainly the marks of constraint, and gave them so little
security, inasmuch as the public and common exercise of their religious
worship was nowhere distinctly permitted, that they could have no
encouragement to avail themselves of this more favorable declaration.
It was the misfortune of the emperor, which procured for them what
they could hardly have expected from his free inclination.
After Maximin had with the greatest difficulty barely saved himself
out of the war with Licinius in the year 313, which was so unfortunate
for him, he proceeded to arm himself for a new conflict with the enemy
who was pursuing him and laying waste his provinces. In this diff-
cult situation, the exasperation of so considerable a party as the Chris-
tians already formed, could not be regarded by him as a matter of
indifference: perhaps, too, he had been led by his misfortunes to believe
that the God of the Christians might, after all, be a powerful being,
1 This took place in fact after he had al- some measure the edict of Galerius. (See
ready, in his older possessions, followed in above.)
16 LICINIUS EXCITED
whose vengeance he was now made to experience. He therefore pub-
lished another rescript, in which he declared, that a misconception in
some of the judges had betrayed his subjects into a distrust of his ordi-
nances. In order, therefore, that all ambiguity and all suspicion might
thenceforth be removed, it should. be made publicly known, that all
who were disposed to profess the religion of the Christians, were left
free to engage in thé public exercise of this religion in whatever way
they chose. The Christians were expressly permitted to found churches,
and the houses and estates of which they had been deprived were to be
restored back to them. Shortly afterwards, he met with a terrible
death at Tarsus. Constantine and Licinius, who had heretofore both
shown themselves favorable to the Christians, became, by the death of.
this last persecutor of the Christian church, sole masters of the Roman
empire.
Ambition, love of power, and the strife for absolute sovereignty in
the Roman empire, particularly on the part of Constantine, would not
allow them to remain long peaceful neighbors to each other. By the
battle of Cibalia in Lower Pannonia, in the year 314, the war was
decided in favor of Constantine. It ended, it is true, in a treaty be-
tween 'the two princes; but their respective interests still continued to
conflict with each other. Licinius, who perhaps was but little interested
in the affairs of religion in themselves considered, had been only moved
by his connection with Constantine, and perhaps also by the influence
of his wife Constantia, the sister of Constantine, whom he had married
in the year 313, to participate in the favorable proceedings begun
towards the Christians. The former reason for favoring them was now
removed. On the other hand, the Christians, as the ‘friends of Con-
stantine, especially the bishops, to whom Constantine paid so much
honor, would become objects of suspicion to him.’ Perhaps many of
the bishops gave occasion for this, by the public manner in which they.
avowed their friendship for Constantine.2. The Pagans would naturally
avail themselves of this state of feeling in Licinius, — would endeavor
to confirm him in his hostile sentiments against the Christians, and to
inspire him with the hope, that he was destined by the gods to reéstab-
lish their worship, and prostrate the power of their enemies. His ordi-
nances against the Christians proceeded in part from his political sus-
picions ; ‘and partly it was their design to present the Christians, and
especially their bishops, in an unfavorable light. He forbade the latter
to assemble together : no bishop was allowed, to pass over the limits of
‘ his own diocese ; where, however, to allow to the pagan emperor what
15 justly his due, we should notice that, as is evident from the synodal
laws of the fourth century, worldly-minded bishops, instead of caring
for the salvation of their flocks, were often but too much inclined to
travel about, and entangle themselves m worldly concerns. . Whether,
however, in the case of Licinins, any well-grounded occasion existed for
these proceedings, aside from his excessive suspicion and unwarranted
1 Probably Sozomen represents the mat- the Christians after his unfortunate war
ter most correctly, (I. 7.) when he states that with Constantine.
Licinius first altered his conduct towards 2 Euseb. de v. C. I. 56
AGAINST THE CHRISTIANS. 17
hostility, we are unable to determine with certainty, as the only accounts
we have respecting these matters come from prejudiced Christian
writers. He moreover directed that the seats of the men and the
women should be separate, (a custom which afterwards the ecclesiasti-
cal authorities themselves thought proper to retain;) that no bishop
should instruct a female in Christianity, but the women should be
instructed only by women. The same remark which we have just
made, applies also to these regulations : it is impossible to decide whether
the hostile disposition of Licinius led him to adopt all these measures
on false pretences, merely with a view to degrade the Christians in
the eyes of the people, or whether he was led to them by individual
examples of abuse and criminality. He commanded the Christians at
his residence at Nicomedia to hold their assemblies, not in the churches,
but in the open fields without the city, under the sarcastic pretence,
that the fresh air was more healthful in such multitudinous assemblies.
He caused the churches in Pontus to be closed, and others to be demol-
ished ; accusing the Christians, that they had prayed, not for his welfare,
. but for that of the emperor Constantine. He removed the Christians,
who refused to offer, from his palace, also from all the high civil and
military posts, and from the service of the military police in the cities.
There were not wanting those who would have been willing to surren-
der even more than their earthly means of subsistence and their honors
as a sacrifice to their faith; but there were also to be found those who,
being Christians rather from habit than from any inward reason, or who,
having become Christians only from outward motives, were hence ready ἢ
again, from similar motives, to change their religion.! Others stood
firm, it is true, at first, but afterwards the love of-the world overcame
their love of religion; they denied the highest and only true good, for
an empty name, and gave bribes and good words into the bargain, so
they might but be restored to their offices.? Licinius published no
edict authorizing sanguinary measures; even the canons of the Nicene -
council represent this persecution as one which was attended with no
effusion of blood. Yet it may have been the case, that, in consequence
of the popular fury, and the malice of individual magistrates in many
districts, and the opportunity which presented itself in the execution of
the imperial laws themselves, the Christians suffered from occasional
acts of violence and bloodshed. But on this point we are left without
any sufficiently distinct and credible information.®
8 Particularly famous in the ancient
church were the forty soldiers at Sebaste in
1 Against such the XI. canon of the Ni-
cene council is directed : Περὲ τῶν παραβών-
των χωρὶς ἀνώγκης ἢ χωρὶς ἀφαιρέσεως ὑπαρ-
χόντων ἢ χωρὶς κινδύνου ἢ τινὸς τοιούτου, ὁ
γέγονεν ἐπὶ τῆς τυρώννιδος λικινίου.
2 Against such the XII. canon of the Ni-
cene council is directed : Οἱ προσκληϑέντες
μὲν ἀπὸ τῆς χάριτος καὶ τὴν πρώτην ὅρμην
ἐνδειξάμενοι καὶ ἀποϑέμενοι τάς ζώνας, (the»
cingulum utriusque militie, palatine et
militaris,) μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα ἐπὶ τόν οἰκεῖον ἔμε-
τον αναδρώμοντες ὡς κύνες, ὧν τινάς Kal ἀργύ-
pia προέσϑαι καὶ βενεφικίοις κατορϑῶσαι τὸ
αναστρατεύσασϑαι.
ο 5"
VOL. II.
Armenia, whom their commander endeay-
ored to compel to offer incense, by expos-
ing them naked to the most extreme cold,
of whom thirty-nine are said to have re-
mained steadfast, and were brought to the
stake almost frozen. By the rhetorical de-
scriptions of the ancient Homilists, Basil
of Cexsarea, Gregory of Nyssa, Chrysos-
tom, Gaudentius of Brescia, Ephraem Syrus,
this story has been variously embellished ;
but we are in want of credible historical ac-
counts, such as would enable us to deter-
18 WAR BETWEEN CONSTANTINE AND LICINIUS.
Finally, in the year 323, the second war broke out between Constan-
tine and Licinius. This war was, it is true, very far from being a reli-
gious war, inasmuch as on both sides the grounds of contention were
merely political, and not religious. But yet it may notwithstanding be
truly affirmed, that the triumph of the Pagan or Christian party was
hanging on the issue. This, too, was well understood on both sides;
and it is therefore natural to suppose, that the Pagan and the Christian:
parties would embark in the war each with the feeling of their different ἡ
interests, and that the two emperors also, in different ways, according to
the difference of their religious convictions, would place their hopes of
success in religion. A characteristic fact to denote the state of feeling
among the Christians in the provinces of Licinius, is contained in the
tradition cited by Eusebius,! that, even before the commencement of the
war, men believed they saw several legions of Constantine marching
victoriously through the streets at mid-day.?
Augurs, haruspices, pagan soothsayers of all sorts, fired the hopes
of Licinius. Before proceeding to the war, he conducted the heads of
his prectorians, and the most distinguished officers of his court, into a
grove consecrated to the gods, where their images had been set up, and
wax-candles placed burning before them. After having sacrificed to
the gods, he spoke as follows: ‘‘ Here stand the images of the gods,
whose worship we have received from our fathers. But our enemy,
who has impiously abandoned the sanctuaries of his country, worships a
foreign God, who has come from I know not whence, and dishonors his
army by the disgraceful sign of his God. Placing his confidence upon
this, he carries on the war, not so much with ourselves as with the gods
whom he has forsaken. The issue of this war must settle the question
between his God and our gods. If that foreign thing which we now
deride, come off victorious, we too shall be obliged to acknowledge and
worship it, and we must dismiss the gods to whom we vainly kindle
these lights. But if our gods conquer, as we doubt not they will, we
_ will turn ourselves, after this victory, to the war against their enemies.”
Constantine, on the other hand, relied upon the God whose symbol
accompanied his army. He caused the Labaruin to be borne in turn by
fifty of his choicest soldiers, who constantly surrounded it. He had ob-
served, as he supposed, that victory everywhere accompanied the ap-
pearance of this sign, operating with supernatural power, and that those
divisions of his army which had already begun to give way, were often
rallied by its means; an observation which, especially if the emperor
had a considerable number of Christians in his army, might doubtless
‘be correct, and which may be easily explained from natural causes.
Constantine imagined that, among other instances, he had met with a
proof of the magical power of the sign of the cross, in an incident
which he afterward related to the bishop Eusebius, and which we may
mine what degree of truth lies at the bot-. ὅὃὅ. Eusebius relates this after the report of
tom of this tale. eye-witnesses, (de v. C. II. 5,) and there is
1 De ν. Ὁ. II. 6. no existing reason for doubting the essen
21t is well known that similar legends tial part of the narrative. .
respecting such visions occur also in the
case of other wars. .
CONSTANTINE SOLE EMPEROR. 19
cite as furnishing a characteristic trait of Constantine’s religious way
of thinking.!_ A soldier who bore the ensign of the cross, suddenly
overcome with fear, gave it over to another, meaning to save himself by
flight. Soon after, he was transfixed by an arrow; while he who bore
the ensign, althowgh many arrows were shot at him and the staff of the
ensign was struck, was yet unharmed himself, and came out of the bat-
tle without receiving a wound.
The defeat of Licinius, whom Constantine dishonorably and faithless-
ly allowed to be killed, made the latter sole master of the Roman empire ;
and, certainly, this fortunate accomplishment of his political plans had
also an important influence upon his religious convictions, and the man-
ner in which he exhibited them. Before we pass to these matters, we
may take a ‘retrospective glance of the manner in which he conducted
himself in relation to matters of religion, from the time of the above-
cited edict until this decisive epoch. ‘To form a correct judgment of
his conduct during this period, we must make the followmg remarks.
Constantine had indeed gradually abandoned his system of religions
eclecticism, and gone over to Monotheism; but yet the belief in the
power of the heathen ceremonies, (sacra,) which had taken so deep
root in his soul, could not at once be entirely removed, especially as his
superstition had in many respects but altered its dress, in exchanging
the Pagan for a Christian form ; and it was natural, that the influence
of Heathens who were about him, of the philosophers and rhetoricians,
such as Sopatros, who still retained much of their ancient authority, as
well as other circumstances, would again call forth the superstition that:
had been suppressed. In the next place, although Constantine already
looked upon the pagan deities as evil spirits, yet, en this very account,
he might still attribute a supernatural power to the magical arts of Pa-
ganism, and regard them with dread. To this we must add the politi-
cal motives that forbade him to destroy at once the ancient religion of
the state, which still had a considerable party in its favor; while it.
may be observed in general, that, by his naturally unbiassed judgment, _
by the experience which he had already obtained in the persecution of
Dioclesian, and by his earlier eclecticism, Constantine was for the most
part inclined to toleration, except when his mind had been thrown in
an opposite direction through some paramount foreign influence.
Although Constantine had manifested in many ways, before that first
edict,? a disposition to promote the Christian form of worship, yet, even
down to the year 317, we find marks of the pagan state-religion upon
the imperial coins.2 Laws of the year 319 presuppose the prohibition
of sacrifices in private dwellings. No haruspex was allowed to pass
the threshold of another’s house. Whoever transgressed this law
should be burned ; whoever had called an haruspex into his house should
be banished, after the confiscation of his goods. Haruspices, priests,
and other ministers of the pagan worship, were not allowed to go into
the private dwelling of another, even under the plea of friendship.
1 Euseb. v. C. II. 9. 3 Vid. Eckhel doctrina numism. Vol.
2 See onward, the section concerning the VIII. p. 78. . ;
relation of the church to the state.
20 CONSTANTINE TOLERATES PAGANISM.
These rigid ordinances are still insufficient of themselves to prove,
that Constantine meant to suppress the heathen worship out of reli-
gious motives. His motives may have been merely political. He may
have feared that the consultation of the haruspices and the use of the
heathen rites, (sacra,) might be taken advantage of to form conspira-
cies against his government and against his life, the suspicions of men
being at that time constantly awake on these matters; and he might be '
the more fearful of all this, since he was by no means free as yet from
all faith in the power of the pagan magic.!
How far he was, at the same time, from wishing to suppress the pub-
lic rites of Heathenism by force, is sufficiently manifest from what he
declares in the two cited laws of the year 319:2 “ They who are de-
sirous of being slaves to their superstition, have liberty for the public
exercise of their worship ;”° and ‘* You who consider this profitable
to yourselves, continue to visit the public altars and temples, and to ob-
serve the solemnities of your usage; for we do not forbid the rites of an
antiquated usage to be performed in the open light.” In this conces-
sion, we see only a wise toleration, the consciousness of the natural
limits of civil power, and a knowledge of that human nature whose
cravings are but the more strongly excited for that which has been for-
bidden. By the manner in which the emperor speaks of the heathen
worship, — when he calls it a superstition, a preterita usurpatio, — he
lets it be sufficiently seen, that he was no longer held by any religious
interest in favor of Paganism. With this, however, a law of the year
321 seems to conflict, in which Constantine not only repeats that per-
mission in respect to the institution of the haruspicia, but expressly or-
dains, that whenever lightning should strike the imperial palace or any
other public building, the haruspices, according to ancient usage, should
be consulted as to what it might signify, and a careful report of the
answer should be drawn up for his use.® It is indeed possible, that he
gave this direction, simply because he knew the power of this kind of
superstition, of the belief in omens and similar things, which continued
for so long a time over the minds of the Roman people ; and because
he feared, that if the haruspices and their consultors were left wholly
1 Libanius says of Constantine, praising
heathen magic. See Eunapius vit. Aides.
his gentleness in other respects: χαλεπώτα-
vol. I. p. 23, ed. Boissonade. Similar ac-
τος δὲ ἣν τοῖς ὀρεγομένοις βασιλείαν καὶ τὰ
τοιαῦτα ἐπιβουλεύουσι, καὶ οὐ τούτοις δὲ μό-
νοις, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὅσοι μάντεσιν ὑπὲρ τοῦ ποῖ
χωρήσει τὰ ἐκείνων διελέγοντο. καὶ οὐδεμία
,τέχνη τόν γὲ τοιοῦτον ἐξείλετ᾽ ἂν τοῦ πυρός.
π. ϑεοδόσ. περὶ στάσεως. II. vol. I. ed.
Reiske, page 635. Eunapius, whose testi-
mony, to be sure,in such things, is not
wholly to be relied on, being a zealous pa-
gan, relates that Constantine, at the delay
of the provision fleet from Alexandria,
whereby Constantine was exposed to the
danger of a famine, ordered Sopatros, who
had stood high in his favor, to be executed,
because the people accused Sopatros of be-
ing the cause of this delay, alleging that he
had bound the winds by the power of the
cusations are said to have been brought
even against the bishop Athanasius. Am-
mian. Marcellin. hist. 1. XV. ¢. 7.
2 Cod. Theodos. I. IX. Tit. 16, c. 1 et 2.
3 Superstitioni suze servire cupientes po-
terunt publice ritum proprium exercere.
* Qui vero id vobis existimatis conducere,
adite aras publicas atque delubra, et con
suetudinis vestra celebrate solemnia. Nec
enim prohibemus preterite usurpationis
officia libera luce tractari.
5 Cod. Theodos. |. X. Tit. 10, 6.1. Al-
‘together in the technical language: Si quid
de palatio nostro aut czeteris operibus pub-
licis degustatum fulgore esse constiterit,
retento more veteris observantize, quid por-
tendat, ab haruspicibus requirarur.
HIS SUPERSTITION. 21
to themselves, or if none but indefinite reports of their imterpretations
went abroad, the thing might be followed by still more dangerous con-
sequences. On the other hand, he might hope to be able to dissipate
more easily the public anxieties, if he reserved to himself, as the Pon-
tifex Maximus, the supreme control of the whole. In this manner
might we defend Constantine against the reproach of having fallen back
into pagan superstition, and explain the whole as proceeding from a Ro-
man policy, by which he seemed to confirm the pagan superstition ;
although we must admit, that such a course can never be justified in a
Christian prince. Yet the other hypothesis, namely, that Constantine
had actually fallen back into heathen superstition, may undoubtedly be
regarded as the more natural. By a law of the same year, he declares
also the employment of heathen magic, for good ends, as for the pre-
vention or healing of diseases, for the protection of harvests, for the
prevention of rain and of hail, to be permitted, and in such expressions,
too, as certainly betray a faith in the efficacy of these pretended super-
natural means, unless the whole is to be ascribed simply to the legal
forms of Paganism.!
As Constantine, by the defeat of Licinius, had now become master
of the whole Roman empire, he expresses everywhere, in his proclama-
tion issued to his new subjects in the East, the conviction that the only
true and Almighty God had, by his undeniable interpositions, given him
the victory over all the powers of darkness, in order that his own wor-
ship might by his means be universally diffused. Thus, in one of the
proclamations of this sort issued to the inhabitants of the Eastern prov-
inces of the Roman empire, he says: ‘“‘ Thee, the Supreme God, I in-
voke ; be gracious to all thy citizens of the Eastern provinces, who
have been worn down by long-continued distress, bestowing on them,
through me thy servant, salvation. And well may I ask this of thee,
Lord of the universe, holy God; for by the leading of thy hand have 1
undertaken and accomplished salutary things. Everywhere, preceded
by thy sign, have I led on a victorious army. And if anywhere the
public affairs demand it, I go against the enemy, following the same
symbol of thy power.? For this reason, I have consecrated to thee my
soul, deeply imbued with love and with fear; for I sincerely love thy
name, I venerate thy power, which thou hast revealed to me by so many
proofs, and by which thou hast confirmed my faith.” * And in a letter
to the bishop Eusebius of Czsarea, he says: ‘‘ Freedom being once
11, ο. 6. III. Nullis vero criminationi- μῆς ἕνεκα μᾶλλον ἤ κρείας, ἢ καὶ μάντεσιν
bus implicanda sunt remedia humanis que-
sita corporibus, aut in agrestibus locis, ne
maturis vindemiis metuerentur imbres aut
ruentis grandinis lapidatione quaterentur
innocenter adhibita suffragia, quibus non
cujusque salus aut existimatio ledentur;
sed quorum proficerent actus, ne divina
munera et labores hominum sternerentur.
So that what the devotedly pagan, and on
this point extremely prejudiced historian,
Zesimus, says of Constantine, (II. 120,) —
ἐχρῆτο δὲ ἔτι καὶ τοῖς πατρίοις ἱεοοῖς. ob τι-
ἐπείϑετο, πεπειρωμένος͵ ὡς ἀληϑῆ προειποῦ-
σιν ἐπι πᾶσι τοῖς κατωρϑωμένοις, αὐτῷ, ----
may be true so far as this, namely, that at
atime when Constantine would no longer
be consciously a Pagan, he was still invol-
untarily governed by pagan superstition.
2 Τὴν σὴν σφραγῖδα (the symbol of the
cross) πανταχοῦ προβαλλόμενος.
8 Τοῖς αὐτοῖς τῆς σῆς ἀρετῆς ἑπόμενος
συνϑήμασιν, ἐπὶ τοὺς πολεμίους πρόειμ.
4 Euseb. de ν. C. II, 54.
22 CONSTANTINE.
more restored, and, by the providence of the great God and my own
ministry, that dragon driven from the administration of the state, I trust
that the divine power has become manifest even to all; and that they
who through fear or unbelief have fallen into many crimes, will come
to the knowledge of the true God,! and to the true and right ordering
of their lives.” What Constantine expresses in this written declara- .
tion, he represented visibly under an emblem which he caused to be
publicly exhibited before the palace in his new residence at Constanti-
nople, consisting of a group of wax-figures, in which the emperor was
seen with the sign of the cross over his head, treading under foot a
dragon transfixed by an arrow.”
It would be a very unjust thing, to suppose that all these public dec-
larations and exhibitions amounted to nothing but mere Christian cant,
or deliberate and intentional hypocrisy. Constantine’s language and
conduct admit of a far more natural explanation, when we consider
them as in part the expression of his real convictions. We have already
remarked, that he was not lacking in susceptibility to certain religious
impressions ; he acknowledged the peculiar providence of God in the
manner in which he had been delivered from dangers, made victorious
over all his pagan adversaries, and finally rendered master of the Ro-
man world. It flattered his vanity to be considered the favorite of
God, and his destined instrument to destroy the empire of the evil
spirits, (the heathen deities.) The Christians belonging to his court
were certainly not wanting on their part to confirm him in this persua-
sion, having many of them come to the same conclusion themselves,
dazzled by the outward splendor which surrounded the emperor, and
which passed over from him to the visible church, and by looking at
what the imperial power, which nothing any longer withstood, could
secure for the outward interests of the church.
Constantine must indeed have been conscious that he was striving,
not so much for the cause of God, as for the gratification of his own
ambition and love of power; and that such acts of perfidy, mean re-
venge, or despotic jealousy, as occurred in his political course, did not
well befit an instrument and servant of God, such as he claimed to be
considered ; but there was here the same lamentable self-deception, the
same imposition upon one’s own conscience, which is so often to be seen
in the mighty of the earth who wear religion as their motto, and
which, in their case, so easily insinuates itself and gains the mastery,
because it is so difficult for truth to find its way through the trappings
1 Τὸ ὄντως Ov, after the Platonic form of
expression. The language of the imperial
court inclined sometimes to the doctrinal
yet this cannot be considered as any proof,
that the above legend has no true founda-
tion. Else we might also argue from the
and biblical stvle of the church, at others to
that of the Greek philosophy.
2 Kuseb. de v. C. III. 3. Quite like the
coins which Eckhel represents, l.c. p. 88: a
serpent lying beneath the Labarum — above
it, the monogram of Christ —symbol of
the spes publica Although many coins of
Constantine are not to be found, which al-
lude to the victory by means of the cross,
general fact of so few coins of Constantine
being found with Christian symbols, against
the undeniable public measures adopted by
that emperor in favor of the Christian church.
It may be questioned also, whether there are
any sufficient grounds for pronouncing the
coins tu be not genuine, which in Eckhel (le.
84, col. II.) present an exhibition of the whole
event, as Constantine related it to Eusebius.
HIS SELF-DECEPTION. HIS TOLERANCE. 23
of pomp which surround them; because they are approached by so
many who, blinded themselves, dazzled by this splendor, blind them still
more in return ; and because no one has ever got access to them, who
had the impartiality or the courage to discover to them the cheat, and
teach them how to distinguish between outward show and truth. Thus
was it with Constantine. And what wonder that he should proceed
under such a delusion, when even Eusebius, one of the best among the
bishops at his court, is so dazzled by what the emperor had achieved
for the outward extension and splendor of the church, as to be capable
of tracing to the purest motives of a servant of God, all the acts which
a love of power that would not brook a rival, had, at the expense of
truth and humanity, put into the heart of the emperor in the war against
Licinius; and of even going so far as to represent him giving out the
orders of battle by a special divine inspiration, bestowed in answer to
his prayers, in a war that beyond all question had been undertaken
on no other grounds than those of a selfish policy ; although we must
allow, that, waged as it was against a persecutor of the Christians, it
would naturally be regarded by Eusebius as a contest in behalf of the
cause of God.! Bishops in immediate attendance on the emperor so far
forgot indeed to what master they belonged, that at the celebration of
the third decennium of his reign, (the tricennalia,) one of them congrat-
ulated him as constituted by God the ruler over all, in the present
world, and destined to reign with the Son of God in the world to come.
The feelings of Constantine himself were shocked at such a parallel. |
He admonished the bishop that he should not venture to use such lan-
guage as that, but should rather pray for him, that he might be deemed
worthy to be a servant of God both in this world and in the next.?
It was now the wish of Constantine that all his subjects might be
united in the worship of the same God. ‘This wish he expressed pub-
licly, and gladly employed every means in his power to bring it about; _
but he was determined not to resort to any forcible measures. He still
continued to express publicly the principles of toleration and of univer-
sal freedom of conscience, and distinctly contradicted the report, which
had arisen from very natural causes, that he intended to suppress Pa-
ganism by force. Thus he declares, in the proclamation, already cited,
to the people of the East: “ Let the followers of error enjoy the liberty
of sharing in the same peace and tranquillity with the faithful: this
very restoration of common intercourse among men® may lead these
people to the way of truth. Let no one molest his neighbor, but let
each act according to the inclination of his own soul. ‘The well-dis-
posed must be convinced, that they alone will live in holiness and purity,
whom 'Thou thyself dost call to find rest in thy holy laws. But let those
who remain strangers to them retain, since they wish it, the temples of
falsehood: we have the resplendent house of thy truth, which thou hast
1De v. C. IL. 12. Θεοφανείας ἐτύγχανεν, The indefinite words may also mean, “ the
ϑειοτέρᾳ κινηϑ εὶς ἐμπνεύσει. improving influence of intercourse.” The
2 Buseb. v. Ὁ. 1. LV, 48. connection, however, favors the first inter-
8 Αὐτὴ γὰρ ἡ τῆς κοινωνίας ἐπανόρϑωσις, pretation.
(perhaps ipsa hee commercii restitutio.)
24 CONSTANTINE.
given us in answer to the cravings of our nature. We could wish that
they too might share with us the joy of a common harmony. Yet let
no one trouble his neighbor by that which is his own conviction. With
the knowledge which he has gained, let him, if possible, profit his neigh-
bor. If it is not possible, he should allow his neighbor to go on in his
own way; for it is one thing, to enter voluntarily into the contest for .
eternal life, and another to force one to it against his will. I have
entered more fully into the exposition of these matters, because I was
unwilling to keep concealed my own belief in the truth; and especially
because, as I hear, certain persons affirm! that the temple-worship and
the power of darkness are abolished. 1 would avow this as my counsel
to all men, if the mighty dominion of error were not too firmly rooted
in the souls of some to permit the restoration of the common hap-
piness.” 2 .
In the particular instances in which Constantine first caused temples
to be destroyed and ancient forms of worship to be suppressed by force,
the criminal excesses sanctioned under the name of religion, or the fraud-
ulent tricks resorted to for the maintenance of heathen superstition
among the credulous multitude, gave him special and just occasion for
these proceedings ; as, for example, when he caused to be demolished
the temple and sacred grove of Venus at Aphaca in Phoenicia,? where
from the remotest times the most abominable licentiousness was prac-
tised under the name of religion; and when he suppressed the like
abominable rites at Heliopolis in Phoenicia. At the same time he sent
to the inhabitants of this ancient heathen city a letter, in which he
represented to them the hatefulness of these rites, and exhorted them to
embrace Christianity. He founded here a church, with a complete
body of clergymen and a bishop ; — somewhat too early, indeed, since
there were as yet no Christians in the place. He bestowed on this
church large sums for the support of the poor; so that the conversion
of the Heathen might be promoted by doing good to their bodies —a
measure, doubtless, which was calculated rather to mislead these people
into hypocrisy, than to conduct them to the faith. Again, there was
at AHee in Cilicia, a temple of Ausculapius of ancient fame, where the
priests availed themselves of their knowledge of certain powers of na-
ture, perhaps of magnetism, (the incubationes,) for the healing of dis-
eases; and these cures were ascribed to the power of the god who
appeared there, and employed asa means to promote the declining
Paganism. The temple was filled with the consecrated gifts and the
1 These “ certain persons ” may have been 8 Euseb. de v. C. III. 55.
fearful Pagans, or Christians triumphing in
a false zeal — more naturally the latter, es-
pecially as the emperor made use of ex-
pressions which only a Christian could
employ. At all events, it is clear how im-
portant it was considered by Constantine,
to repress the zeal of the Christians, which
might easily lead to violent proceedings,
and to inspire confidence in the anxious
Pagans.
2 Euseb. de v. C. II. 56 and 60.
4 Eusebius (1. c. III. 58) says that the
views of Constantine on this matter were
precisely like those of the Apostle Paul,
Philippians 1: 18, “ Notwithstanding, every
way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ
is preached.” This, however, is manifestly
a wrong application of that passage, which
has been oftén enough repeated. Paul is
speaking of a preaching of the gospel from
motives not altogether pure, and not of 9
hypocritical conversion.
HIS PROCEEDINGS AGAINST PAGANISM. 25
inscriptions of those who supposed themselves indebted to it for their
recovery. Far-famed in particular were the remedies which, as it was
pretended, the god himself prescribed in dreams to the sick who slept
in the temple. Not only the populace, but many even of the better
class, men of learning, and self-styled philosophers, lauded these won-
derful cures. With a view to put an end to the knavery at a single
blow, Constantine ordered the temple to be destroyed.1 How impor-
tant a prop of Heathenism, which needed such means for its support,
was taken away by the destruction of this temple, appears from the
complaints which a man like Libanius utters over this impiety and its
attendant consequences: ‘‘ The sick now,” he says, “in vain make
their pilgrimages to Cilicia.”? | By dismantling and publicly exhibiting
those images of the gods to which miraculous powers had been ascribed,
many a trick of the priests was exposed, and what had been venerated
by the deluded populace, became the objects of their sport. Magnifi-
cent temples and statues of the gods were despoiled of their treasures,
and stripped of all their costly materials; and then were either turned
to the public use, or bestowed as presents on private individuals. Many
objects of art taken from the temples were used for the decoration of
the imperial residence.®
For the rest, this method of proceeding against the heathen cultus
did not everywhere produce upon the Heathen themselves the same
effect; owing to the differences of character. The fanatical Heathen,
especially the educated who had constructed for themselves a mystical
Heathenism spiritualized by Platonic ideas, and reasoned themselves
into an artificial system composed of heterogeneous ¢glements, could not
be disturbed by any exposure of facts, and only felt exasperated by
that desecration of their venerated sanctuaries, which they were obliged
patiently to endure. ‘There were others who were under the dominion
of no such fanaticism, and whose superstition therefore, when it was
stripped of its pompous array, might be more easily exposed in
its emptiness. These might, by such sudden impressions, be brought
to a sense of their error, and by degrees made capable of receiving a
knowledge of the gospel. Others made sport of that which they had
formerly believed, without receiving the true faith in place of their
superstition. They fell into total skepticism, or contented themselves
with a general system of Deism.* It is a fact worthy of remark, and a
proof of the already diminished power of Heathenism over the popular
mind, that officers, commissioned with full powers by the emperor, could
venture, without any protection of an armed force, to pass through
immense crowds of people, and plunder famous temples, bearing off
1 Euseb. de v. C. III. 56.
δεικνύς ἐκ τῶν ἐπιγραμμάτων, ἁ ἣν τῶν byte
? Liban. de templis, vol. II. 187. Καὶ νῦν
οὺς ἄγει μὲν εἰς Κιλικίαν νοσήματα, τῆς τοῦ
᾿Ασκληπιοῦ χρήζοντα χειρὸς. αἱ δὲ περὶ τὸν
τόπον ὕβρεις ἀπράκτους αποπέμπουσι. And
quoting from the eulogy of a pagan rheto-
rician, in the time of the emperor Julian,
probably in reference to the destruction of
this temple: Nov μὲν τὴν τοῦ ϑέου δύναμιν
VOL. II. 3.
νόντων͵ νῦν δὲ τραγῴδων τὸν τῶν ἀϑέων κατὰ
τὸν νέω πολέμιον, ἀδικουμένους ἵκετας, οὐκ ἐῶ
μένους ἀπαλλαγῆναι κάκων. Liban. ep. 607.
8 De ν. C. II. 54, Liban. ed. Reiske, III.
436, concerning Constantine: ᾽᾿Εγύμνωσε τοῦ
πλούτου τοὺς Weovc. He calls him plainly
the σεσυληκὼς. Pro templis, vol. 11. p. 188.
4 Euseb. de y. Ὁ. III. 57.
26 CONSTANTINE.
their venerated treasures.!. What fierce commotions, on the other
hand, were excited at a later period by the seizure of the Christian
images in the Byzantine empire !
Again, Constantine endeavored to place Christians in the highest
offices of state, and to appoint them governors in the provinces. Since,
however, it was difficult at that time to carry this plan into execution,
and wholly exclude the Pagans from the public service of the state; and
since, moreover, he was unwilling to pass any law of this kind, he con-
tented himself with forbidding the holders of office to sacrifice ;—a
practice which the previous importance of Paganism, as the religion
of the state, had made a duty incumbent upon them in the execution
of many kinds of public business. At length the erection of idolatrous
images and the performance of religious sacrifices were universally for-
bidden. . But as many Pagans still occupied important civil stations,
and as Constantine moreover was not inclined to resort in this case to
arbitrary force, it naturally followed that these laws were but little
observed. Hence the succeeding emperor, Constantius, was under the
necessity of reénforcing this ordinance.”
It was a religious interest which actuated Constantine in his
attempts to introduce the Christian form of worship; but he never
employed forcible measures for its extension: he never compelled any
person whatever to act in matters of religion against the dictates of his
own conscience. ΤῸ those of his soldiers who were Christians, he gave
full liberty to attend church on Sunday. Upon those of them who
were not Christians, he did not enforce a Christian form of prayer, nor
did he compel them to unite in any of the Christian forms, as the
pagan emperors had endeavored to force Christians to join in the pagan
ceremonies. He simply required the Pagans among his soldiers to
assemble before the city in the open fields, and here, at a given signal,
to repeat in the Latin language the following form of prayer: ‘ ‘Thee
alone we acknowledge as the true God; thee we acknowledge as ruler ;
thee we invoke for help; from thee have we received the victory ;
through thee have we conquered our enemies ; to thee are we indebted
for our present blessings ; from thee also we hope for future favors ; to
thee we all direct our prayer. We beseech thee, that thou wouldst
preserve our emperor Constantine and his pious sons in health and pros-
perity through the longest life.’ ? The same thing indeed becomes
clearly apparent here, which we have observed on various other occa-
sions, that the emperor had no just conception of the true nature of
1 Kuseb. IIT. 54. Constantine: Τῆς κατὰ νόμους ϑεραπείας
2 This prohibition of the emperor, Euse-
bius cites in his work, de vy. C. II. 44, 45;
IV. 23; and Sozomen, I. 8, who seems,
however, here merely to copy from Eusebi-
us, and that not accurately. The surest
proof that Constantine did actually enact
such a law, lies in the fact, that Constantius,
by renewing the prohibition in the year 341,
presupposed this law as already existing.
If Libanius, on the contrary, in his discourse
defending the temple, (vol. II. 162,) says of
ἐκίνησεν οὐδὲ ἕν, and 183, ὡς οὐκ ἐπὶ τὰς
ϑυσίας προῆλϑε, we remember not only that
Libanius was interested here to represent
what had been done by the first Christian
emperor for the suppression of Paganism,
as of the least possible account; but also
that he confounded what was done at dif-
ferent times, and that he was looking at the
effects of those laws, which it must be al-
lowed were insignificant.
3 Kuseb, de v. C. LV. 18, 19.
27
divine worship and of prayer, and that he laid an undue stress on out-
ward religious forms ; for it was hardly possible surely, that, in repeat-
ing, at the word of command, a prayer committed to memory, and that
in a language which to a part of the soldiers was not their own, there
could be any of that devotion which alone gives to prayer its signifi-
cance ; but yet it is worthy of remark, how the emperor respected the
religious convictions of his soldiers. He avoided in this prayer every-
thing peculiar to Christianity, and nothing in it but the Monotheism
would be incompatible with the pagan religion. As it respects this,
Constantine perhaps regarded the belief in one God, as that which the
contemplation of the universe would teach every man, and the neces-
sary acknowledgment of which might be presupposed in every man: !
besides, the heathen soldiers, who were not so scrupulous in regard to
every word, might easily interpret the whole as an address to their own
Jupiter.
But, if Constantine was unwilling to employ any forcible measures
for the extension of Christianity, it by no means follows that he
rejected all outward means for this end, and that he had come to un-
derstand how Christianity, disdaining all outward means of persuasion
and outward supports, would make its own way, simply by the power
with which it operates upon the inner convictions and in the life of men.
We have from himself a remarkable declaration, concerning the means
which he supposed necessary to promote the spread of Christianity.
At the counsel of Nice he exhorted the bishops not to be envious of -
each other, on account of the applause bestowed on their discourses
and the reputation of oratorical gifts; not to lay the foundations of
schisms by their mutual jealousies, lest they should give occasion to the
Heathen of blaspheming the Christian religion. The Heathen, he
said, would be most easily led to salvation, if the condition of the Chris-
tians were made to appear to them in all respects enviable. They
should consider, that the advantage to be derived from preaching could
not belong to all. Some, he said, might be drawn to the faith by being
seasonably supplied with the means of subsistence ; others were accus-
tomed to repair to that quarter where they found protection and inter-
cession, (alluding to the ¢ntercessions of the bishops, see below ;) others
would be won by an affable reception ; others, by being honored with
presents. There were but few who honestly loved the exhibitions of reli-
gious doctrine ; but few who were the friends of truth, (therefore, few
sincere conversions.”) For this reason, they should accommodate them-
selves to the characters of all, and, like skilful physicians, give to each
man that which might contribute to his cure, so that im every way the
HIS ENCOURAGEMENT OF HYPOCRISY.
1 See his declaration in Euseb. IT. 58. ow 7 ἐκ λόγων ὠφέλεια συντελεῖ: οἱ μὲν yap
2 Euseb. III. 21. I place the passage
here, which, as it seems to me, has been
corrupted by a transposition of the words,
in the way in which I suppose it ought to
be corrected, by restoring the words to their
proper order: "Qv μάλιστα σωϑῆναι δυναμέ-
νων, εἰ πάντα τὰ καϑ' ἡμὰς αὐτοῖς ζηλωτὰ
φαίνοιντο, μὴ δεῖν ἀμφιγνοεῖν͵ ὡς οὐ τοῖς πᾶ-
ὡς πρὸς τροφὴν χαίρουσιν ἐπικουρούμενοι οἱ
δὲ τῆς προστασίας (ταῖς προστασίαις or Tac)
ὑποτρέχειν εἰώϑασιν' ἄλλοι τοὺς δεξιώσεσι
φιλοφρονουμένους ἀσπάζονται, καὶ ξενίοις τι-
μώμενοι ἀγαπῶσιν ἕτεροι' βραχεῖς δ᾽ οἱ λόγων
ἀληϑεῖς ἐρασταὶ καὶ σπάνιος αὖ ὁ τῆς ἀλη εἴ-
ας φίλος.
28 CONSTANTINE’S BAPTISM AND DEATH.
saving doctrine might be glorified in all. A course of proceeding upon
such principles must naturally have thrown opena wide door for all manner
of hypocrisy. Even Eusebius, the panegyrist of Constantine, blinded as
he was by the splendor which the latter had cast over the outward
church, although he would gladly say nothing but good of his hero ;
yet. even he is obliged to reckon among the grievous evils of this:
period, of which he was an eye-witness, the indescribable hypocrisy of
those who gave themselves out as Christians merely for temporal advan-
tage, and who, by their outward show of zeal for the faith, contrived
to win the confidence of the emperor, which he suffered them to abuse.!
It must appear surprising that Constantine, although he exhibited
so much zeal for all the concerns of the church, although he took part
in the transactions of a council assembled to discuss matters of contro-
versy, had never as yet received baptism; that he continued to remain
without the pale of the community of believers; that he could still
assist at no complete form of worship, no complete celebration of a festi-
val. He continued to remain in the first class of catechumens, (not
catechumens in the stricter sense of the word, see below,) though
already sixty-four years of age. ‘Thus far he had enjoyed sound and
uninterrupted health. He now, for the first time, began to feel the in-
firmities of age ; and illness induced him to leave Constantinople, and
repair to the neighboring city of Helenopolis in Bithynia, Asia Minor,
recently founded by his mother, in order to enjoy the benefit of the
warm springs in that place. When his malady grew worse, and he felt
a presentiment of the approach of death, he repaired, for the purpose
of prayer, to the church consecrated to the memory of the martyr Lu-
cian. Here first he made the confession which was customary before
entering into the class of the catechumens, so called in the stricter
sense ; and the bishops gave him the blessing.2 He next repaired to a
castle, near the city of Nicomedia, where he called together an assem-
bly of the bishops, and, surrounded by them, received baptism from
Eusebius, bishop -of Nicomedia. This took place shortly before his
death, in the year 337. Now, for the first time, he could profess it to
be his purpose, that, if God spared his life, he would join in the assem-
bly of God’s people, and join with all the faithful in all the prayers of
the church.®
Doubtless we should consider here, that it was not the custom in this
period for all to receive baptism immediately after embracing the faith;
but many, especially in the East, deferred it until some special occa-
"sion, inward or outward, brought about in them a new crisis of life.*
But still it must ever seem strange, that an emperor who took such in-
terest in the concerns of the Christian church, should remain without
baptism till his sixty-fourth year. We may indeed give credit to what
1See ¢. IV. 53. Εἰρωνείαν ἄλεκτον τῶν ϑεσία, and was thus taken among the γονυ-
τὴν ἐκκλησίαν ὑποδυομένων καὶ TO χριστια- κλινόντες.
νῶν επιπλάστως σχηματιζομένων ὄνομα, οἷς 3 Euseb. ΤΥ͂.62. Οὕτως ἐμὲ συναγελώζεσϑαι
ἑαυτὸν καταπιστεύων Taya ἄν ποτε καὶ τοῖς Λοιπὸν τῷ τοῦ ϑεοῦ λαῷ, καὶ ταῖς εὐχαῖς ὁμοὺ
μὴ πρέπουσιν ἐνεπείρετο. τοῖς πᾶσιν ἐκκλησιάζοντα κοινωνεῖν ἅπαξ
2 He received for the first time the χείρο- ὥρισται.
* See below, under the history of worship.
HEATHEN ACCOUNT OF HIS CONVERSION. 29
he says, and suppose — what was quite in character with his religious
notions — that he entertained the design to receive baptism in the Jor-
dan, whose water Christ had first consecrated by his own baptism.}
This does not suffice, however, to explain his long delay. It is most
probable that, carrying his heathen superstition into Christianity, he
looked upon baptism as a sort of rite for the magical removal of sin,
and so delayed it, in the confidence that, although he had not lived an
exemplary life, he might yet in the end be enabled to enter into bliss,
purified from all his sins. He was doubtless sincere, therefore, when,
on receiving baptism, he said, as Eusebius reports, that from thence-
forth, if God spared him his hfe, he would devote himself to God’s
worthy laws of life.2_ This remark leads us to notice a report, which
circulated among the Heathen of this period, respecting the cause of
Constantine’s conversion ; for the mode of thinking which betrays itself
in his notion of baptism, furnishes us also with a key to the right inter-
pretation of this story.
Constantine, instigated by the calumnious representations of his
second wife Fausta, had, in a paroxysm of anger, caused his son, the
Cesar Crispus, step-son of Fausta, to be put to death. Reproached
for this act by his mother Helena, and convinced afterwards himself that
he had been falsely informed, he had added another crime to this by a
cruel revenge on Fausta, whom he caused to be thrown into the glow-
ing furnace of a bath. Suspicious jealousy had misled him to order
the execution of his nephew, a hopeful prince, the son of the unfortu-
nate Licinius ; and several others, connected with the court, are said -
to have fallen victims to his anger or his suspicion. When at length he
began to feel the reproaches of conscience, he inquired of the Platonic
philosopher Sopatros, or, according to others, of heathen priests, what
he could do to atone for these crimes. It was replied to him, that
there was no lustration for such atrocious conduct. At that time an
Egyptian bishop from Spain (probably Hosius of Cordova is meant)
became known at the palace, through the ladies of the court. He said
to the emperor, that in the Christian faith he could find a remedy for
every sin; and this promise, which soothed the conscience of Constan-
tine, first led him to declare decidedly in favor of Christianity.? Cer-
tain it is, that any true herald of the gospel, if he found the emperor
suffering under these misgivings of conscience, would not have begun
with calming his fears; but he would have endeavored first of all to
bring him to the full conviction of the corruption within, of which these
gross and striking outbreaks of sin were but individual manifestations ;
he would also have discovered to him the vanity of those seeming vir-
tues by which he had often sought to gloss over this inward corrup-
tion ; he would have shown him, that in general no opus operatum by
outward Iustrations could have any effect to cleanse the inner man from
sin ; — and then, after having cleared the wounded conscience of all
those deceitful and soothing hopes which serve only as a prop for sin,
1 Euseb. v. C. IV. 62.
2 Θεσμοὺς ἤδη βίου Sed πρέποντας ἐμαυτῷ διατετάξομαι.
8 Zosim. I. 29. Sozom. I. 5.
VOL II. ὃ"
80 CONSTANTINE.
and shown him what true repentance is, he would have presented be-
fore him Christ, as the Redeemer of the truly penitent and believing
sinner ; constantly warning him against the seeming faith which leads
men to seek in Christ only a deliverer from that outward suffering which
a violated conscience holds up to their fears, and a stay for the sinful-
ness of their nature. But we may well suppose that, among the
bishops of the court, there was none who would have spoken to the em-
peror in this manner. As it would be quite in character for Constan-
tine, when suffering under the reproaches of conscience, to seek after
some magical expiation, so we may easily suppose that a bishop who
possessed little of the simple temper of the gospel and of pure Chris-
tian knowledge, and who was moreover blinded by the splendor of
the court, might point the emperor to such a means of expiation in the
rite of baptism, or in an empty profession of faith, and thus poison for
him the very fountain of salvation. But the testimony of Pagans, in-
imical to Christianity and the emperor, furnishes no sufficient evidence
for the truth of a story which they could have so easily invented ;
while, on the other hand, the silence of Christian historians, whose
prejudices were all on one side, furnishes no evidence against its truth.
That this account cannot, however, be literally true, appears, as Sozo-
menus has justly remarked, from the gross anachronism which it con-
tains ; for, long before Constantine had committed these crimes,! he had
taken his decided stand in favor of Christianity. The whole story,
therefore, may have no other foundation than the fact, that Constantine
strove to quiet his sins by relying on the opus operatum of outward
means of justification, especially upon the justitying power of outward
baptism, which he reserved against the time of his death, and upon the
merit of what he had done to promote the outward splendor of the
church ; and it may be that the bishops of the court, instead of teach-
ing him better, confirmed him in this destructive error.2_ This doubt-
less would be observed by the Pagans, who would not be slow in taking
advantage of it to misrepresent Christianity .®
1 The execution of Crispus took place at from the imperial table. The proceedings
the same time with the vicennalia of Con-
stantine, or the celebration of the twentieth
anniversary of his assuming the dignity of
Augustus, that is, in 326; and it was in the
preceding year that Constantine displayed,
at the council of Nice, so decided a zeal in
favor of the Christian faith.
2 Eusebius of Czsarea was a man con-
“ versant with still higher things than mere
worldly interests, and cannot be reckoned
among the number of the ordinary court
bishops of this period; yet mark how .he
describes a banquet which the emperor gave
to the bishops at the breaking up of the
Nicene council, in celebration of the vicen-
nalia of his entrance upon the dignity of
Cesar: “ When the emperor held a ban-
quet with the bishops, among whom he had
established peace, he presented it, through
them, as it were an offering worthy of
God. No one of the bishops was excluded
on this occasion were sublime beyond de-
scription. The soldiers of the emperor's
body-guard were drawn up before the door
of the palace witb their bare swords. The
men of God (the bishops) passed along un-
daunted between their files into the interior
of the palace. Some sat at the same table
with the emperor himself; the others, at
side-tables. One might easily imagine that
one beheld the type of Christ’s kingdom.”
Euseb. vit. Constant. 1. II. 6. 15. Making
due allowance for the corrupt rhetorical
taste of those times, in passing our judg-
ment on these expressions, still we must feel
certain, that a man who was capable of
using such language was in no condition
to speak to the emperor in the spirit of the
gospel, as one charged with the care of
souls.
3’ Thus Julian, in his satirical perform
ance entitled “ the Czsars,” makes Constan
e
CONSTANTIUS. HIS LAWS AGAINST PAGANISM. 31
If the reign of Constantine bears witness that the state which seeks
to advance Christianity by the worldly means at its command, may be
the occasion of more injury to this holy cause than the earthly power
which opposes it with whatever virulence, this truth is still more clearly
demonstrated by the reign of his successor Constantius.
Constantius, in the outset, shared the government with his two brothers,
Constantine the younger and Constans, to whose portion fell the domin-
ion of the West. The younger Constantine having, in the war against
his brother Constans, lost his life, Constans made himself master of the
whole Western, as Constantius was already of the whole Eastern
empire ; and when Constans perished, in the year 350, in the revolt of
Magnentius, Constantius was left sole master of the entire Roman
empire. Now, although the measures adopted for the suppression of
Paganism proceeded directly from Constantius, although they were
executed in his empire with the greatest severity and rigor, — despot-
ism in the East being, as a general thing, the most oppressive;
yet, on the whole, the principles upon which he proceeded, were
those which prevailed throughout the entire empire. Constantius,
in reénacting, in the year 341, the law of the previous reign against
sacrifices, gave the following peremptory command: ‘ Let superstition
cease ; let the folly of sacrifices be abolished.1 Whoever, after the
publication of this law, continues to sacrifice, shall be punished accord-
ing to his deserts ;” yet the nature of the punishment is not clearly
defined.
Although this law might properly refer only to the Eastern empire,’
yet in a law of the year 346, enacted in common by the emperor Con-
stantius and Constans, and therefore valid for the whole Western and
Eastern empire, it is presupposed that the extirpation of the entire
pagan superstition had already been commanded ;* and in the same
year the two emperors again conjointly directed, that the temples should
everywhere be closed, that access to them should be forbidden to all, -
and thus liberty ‘for crime taken away from abandoned men.’ Sac-
rifices were forbidden on pain of death and the confiscation of goods.
When at a still later period, under the usurper Magnentius, who him-
self* professed to be a Christian, the pagan cultus in the West had recov-
ered a certain degree of freedom — whether it was that the usurper,
from political reasons or want of interest in religious matters, made show
tine in the lower world proclaim to all:
“Whoever is a voluptuary, a murderer,
whoever is a vicious man, a profligate, let
him boldly come hither. Having washed
him with this water, I will instantly make
him pure. And should he fall into the
same crimes again, let him only beat on his
breast and on his head, and I will bestow
on him power to become pure.” Ὅστις
φϑορεὺς, ὅστις μιαιφόνος, ὅστις ἐναγὴς Kal
βδελυρὸς ἴτω ϑαῤῥῶν. ἀποφανῶ γὰρ αὐτὸν
τουτῳὶ τῷ ὕδατι λούσας, αὐτίκα καϑαρόν, καὶ
πάλιν ἔνοχος τοῖς αὐτοῖς γένηται, δώσω τὸ
στῆϑος πλῆξαντι καὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν πατάξαντι,
καϑαρῷ γενέσϑαι. And Libanius sees in
the cruelty of Constantine towards his own
family, a punishment inflicted on him for
his plundering of the temples: Τὶς οὕτω
μεγάλην τῶν περὶ τὰ ἱερὰ χρήματα δέδωκε
δίκην τὰ μὲν αὐτὸς αὑτὸν μετίων ; Pro tem-
plis, p. 184, vol. IL
1 Cod. Theodos. 1. XVI. Tit. 10, ¢. 2.
Cesset superstitio, sacrificiorum aboleatur
insania.
2 Omnis superstitio penitus eruenda.
8 Licentiam delinquendi perditis abne-
gari. “ie
4 As the ensigns of the cross on his coins
prove. Sce Eckhel, VIII. 122.
32 CONSTANTIUS.
of greater toleration; or whether it was that, without any interference
of his own, the laws which had been passed against the pagan worship
had, in the turmoils of this revolution, lost their power— yet for this
cause Constantius thought it necessary, after he had suppressed the
insurrection in the year 8538, and became the sole ruler, to issue a new
law against sacrifices by night, which had been again introduced. —
Three years later, in°356, he passed a law, in the name also of the
Cesar Julian, who was even then secretly inclined to Paganism,
by which law he made it once more capital to sacrifice and worship
the images of the gods. The relation of things had become reversed.
As in former times the observance of the pagan ceremonies, the reli-
gion of the state, had appeared in the light of a civil duty, and the pro-
fession of Christianity in that of a crime against the state; so now it
was the case, not indeed that the outward profession of Christianity was
commanded as a universal civil duty, for against this the spirit of Chris-
tianity too earnestly remonstrated ; but that the exercise of the pagan
religion was made politically dangerous. There was an inclination
to regard the Heathens, as unsatisfied with the present order of things ;
and the suspicious despot Constantius feared, whenever he heard about
the celebration of pagan rites, especially about augurs, haruspices, con-
sultation of oracles and sacrifices, that conspiracies were brooding
against his government and his life. It was especially the notary Pau-
lus, widely known under his well-deserved soubriquet, the Chain,
(catena,) who, in the later times of this reign, working upon the suspi-
cious temper of Constantius, and using him as the instrument of his own
designs, ravaged the land as a cruel persecutor. It thus happened
that a heathen philosopher, Demetrius Chytas of Alexandria, was con-
victed of having repeatedly sacrificed. Not so much for religious as
for political reasons, this trangression of the laws was interpreted as a
grievous crime; his judges pretending to look upon it as a magical
ceremony, undertaken in a hostile spirit against the emperor! No
credit was given to his assurances, that from his early youth he had
been accustomed to sacrifice, simply to propitiate the favor of the gods.
But when he steadfastly persisted in the same assertion under the
rack, he was dismissed to his home ; although, if the imperial law had
been strictly carried into execution, he must have suffered the penalty
of death, as a Heathen who, by his own confession, had offered sacrifices.
To wear heathen amulets for keeping off diseases, to consult an astrolo-
ger on any private affair whatever, might easily involve one in a crimen
Majestatis, leading to tortures and death.”
To the great vexation of the Pagans, Constantius caused several
celebrated temples to be destroyed. Some he plundered, and
presented others or their treasures to Christian churches, or to his
favorites among the courtiers; and sometimes, therefore, to the most
unworthy of men. The property of the temples, which might have
1 See Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XIX.¢.12. οὔ notice: “ Prorsus ita res agebatur, quasi
2 Ammian. Marcellin. l.c. Liban. pro Aris- Clarium, Dodonzeas arbores et effata Del-
tophane, vol. Ip. 430. The words of Am- phorum. olim solennia in imperatoris exi-
mianus Marcellinus are particularly worthy tium sollicitaverint multi.”
HIS PERSECUTION OF THE PAGANS. 38
been employed to a better purpose in the cause of religion, often be-
came a prey to cupidity and rapine ;! and when many, who had become
rich by the plundering of temples, abandoned themselves to every lust,
and finally brought ruin upon themselves by their own wickedness, the
Pagans looked upon this as the punishment sent by their gods for rob-
bing the temples; and they predicted that similar punishments would
follow every instance in which the temples were desecrated, as appears
from the asseverations of Libanius and Julian.
The emperor, however, thought it advisable to keep under some
restraint the fury for destroying temples, in order to preserve certain
national antiquities which were dear to the people. By a law of the
year 346, he ordained that all temples, existing without the walls of the
city, should be preserved uninjured, since with many of them were
connected national festivities, and certain of the public games and con-
tests had derived their origen from them.2 When Constantius, after
his victory over Magnentius, resided in Rome and there saw the heathen
temples in their full splendor, he took no measures against them; and
Heathenism, as the old religion of the Roman state, still retained so
much consequence, that much that belonged to the heathen forms of
worship was left unaltered in the Western empire. Thus it was with
the privileges of the vestals and the priestly dignities, which were given
to Romans belonging to the noblest heathen families,® although we must
allow that these dignities had lost much. of their ancient impor-
tance. Subsequently to the establishment of the law which made the
offering of sacrifice a capital crime, Tertullus, the prefect of the city,
did not hesitate, when a storm at sea hindered the provision fleet from
arriving at Rome and threatened a famine, to offer public sacrifices in
the temple of Castor, near the mouth of the Tiber, that the gods might
calm the fury of the storm.
Whilst falsely flattermg pagan rhetoricians, such as Libanius and
Themistius, publicly spoke in praise of the emperor, whom at heart they ©
detested as the enemy of the gods ; there were still among the teachers
of the Christian church many bold and fearless voices, which plainly
told him that he rather injured than aided Christianity, when he sought
to advance its interests by outward power, — voices which now presented
before a professedly Christian emperor, who confounded the Christian
with the political standing-ground, the principles of liberty of conscience
and belief brought to light by Christianity, just as they had been pre-
sented before the pagan emperors by its first defenders. Very perti-
nently says Hilary to the emperor Constantius: ‘ With the gold of the
state you burdened the sanctuary of God; and what has been torn from
the temples, or gained by the confiscation of goods, or extorted by vun-
1 Liban. de accusatorib. IIT. 436. Karé- cum ex nonnullis vel ludorum vel circensi-
σκαψε τοὺς ναοὺς καὶ πάντα ἱερὸν ἐξαλείψας
νόμον, ἔδωκεν αὔτον (abrove,) οἷς ἴσμεν.
Liban. Epitaph. Julian. 529: Τὸν τῶν ἱερῶν
πλοῦτον εἰς τοὺς ἀσελγεστώτους μεμερισμένον.
Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XXII. ο, 4. Pasti
quidam templorum spoliis.
2 Cod. Theodos. |. XVI. Tit. X.c.3. Nam
um vel agonum origo fuerit exorta, non
convenit ea convelli, ex quibus populo Ro-
mano prebentur priscarum sollennitas vo-
luptatum.
ὃ See Symmach. relat. ad Valentinian. 1, X,
ep. 61.
4 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XTX. ὁ. 10
34 CONSTANTIUS.
ishments, that you force upon God.” ! Concerning the resort to vio-
lent measures for the advancement of religion, Athanasius finely
remarks :” ‘It is an evidence that they want confidence in their own
faith, when they use force, and constrain men against their wills. So
Satan, because there is no truth in him, wherever he gains admittance,
pays away with hatchet and sword. But the Saviour is so gentle that .
he teaches it is true: * Will any one come after me, and who will be
my disciple ?’? while he forces none to whom he comes, but only knocks
at the door of the soul, and says: ‘Open to me, my sister ;’ and if the
door is opened, he goes in. But if any one is unwilling to open, he
withdraws; for the truth is not preached by sword and javelin, nor by
armies, but by persuasion and admonition.? How can there be any-
thing like persuasion, where the fear of the emperor rules?) How can
there be anything like admonition, where he who contradicts has to
expect banishment and death?” Says the same writer, in another
place:* ‘It is the character of true piety, not to force, but to convince ;
since our Lord himself forced no man, but left free the choice of each
individual, saying to all: ‘If any man will, let him come after me ;’
but to his disciples: ‘ Will ye also go away?’”? The men who ex-
pressed such truths with Christian boldness, were thinking indeed, in
this case, not so much of the conduct of the emperor towards the Pa-
gans, as of his conduct towards the contending parties of the Christian
church; their own interest (for they belonged to a party which lay
under the constraint of outward power) coincided in this case with what
the spirit of Christianity requires ; and hence they might the more
readily perceive this, and be led to make it a prominent point in oppo-
sition to the prevailing sentiments of their time. It is plain, that the
same could have been said also concerning the emperor’s conduct
towards the Pagans; but it may be justly questioned, whether they
would have been equally free to recognize and proclaim the same truths
in this wider application. It is certain at least, that many of the
fathers were actuated by another spirit than this Christian one: they
were concerned only for the outward suppression of Paganism, without
considering whether the means employed for this purpose agreed with
the spirit of the gospel, and were suited to destroy Paganism in the
hearts of men. Julius Firmicus Maternus® thus addresses the empe-
rors Constantius and Constans: “ Take off without scruple the decora-
tions of the temples ; use all their consecrated gifts for your own profit,
and that of the Lord. After destroying the temples, ye are, by the
power of God, exalted higher.”” He paid homage to the error, so ruin-
ous to the emperors, which led them to imagine that, by merely destroy-
ing the outward monuments of Paganism, they proved themselves to be
Christians, and secured the divine favor. He also describes the politi-
cal success of the emperors in the usual style of exaggerated flattery,
1.C. Constant. imperator. lib. ὁ. 10. 4 Hist. Arian. § 67.
2 Hist. Arian. § 8. 5 Concerning whom we shall speak furs
8 Ὃυ γὰρ ξίφεσιν ἤ βέλεσιν οὐδὲ dia στρα- ther in another place, under the head of the
τιώτων ἡ ἀληϑεία καταγγελέται, ἄλλα πειϑοὺ Apologists.
καὶ συμβουλίᾳ.
REACTION OF PAGANISM. 35
peculiar to the panegyrists of the age, and says nothing of their misfor-
tunes. He next invites them to punish idolatry, and assures them
that the divine law required them to suppress all Paganism by force.1
Forgetting the spirit which it became Christians to cherish, and by
what means the Christian church had overcome all earthly powers that
had opposed her and finally rendered them subservient to her own
interests, he employs those passages of the Old Testament which threat-
ened with the punishment of death those who became idolaters from
among the people of God, to show how Christian emperors should deal
with the same class of men. Worldly-minded bishops, who by their
proceedings caused the name of the Lord to be blasphemed among the
Gentiles, such as Georgius of Alexandria, raged against Paganism,
and stood ready to reward with everything which their powerful influ-
ence at court enabled them to procure, with the favor of the prince,
and titles, and stations of honor, the hypocrisy of those who accounted
earthly things of more value than divine.?
If we consider more closely the relation, as it now stood, of Christi-
anity to Paganism in the Roman empire, we cannot fail to see that a
reaction of the latter, to recover itself from its depression, was already
prepared. As nothing can be more hurtful to the cause of truth, than
attempting to support and further it by some other power than its own,
thus converting truth itself into a falsehood ; so nothing, on the other
hand, can contribute more to promote the cause of error, than raising
up martyrs for it, and thus lending it the appearance of truth. It cer-
tainly had been possible for Paganism, under the existing circumstan-
ces, to gain vastly more, if this religious system, which consisted of the
old popular superstition, coming out in a new dress from the school of
pompous, mystical sophists and conceited rhetoricians, had not been in
itself so utterly unsubstantial and powerless ; an idle gewgaw, hardly
capable of imparting to any soul, enthusiasm enough to become a
martyr. .
Many had hypocritically assumed the profession of Christianity, while
at heart they were still inclined to Paganism, or were ready to adopt
any religion which happened to be in favor at court ; others had framed
a system for themselves, mixed up of Paganism and Christianity, in
which often there was nothing more than merely an exchange of pagan
10,80. Ut severitas vestra idololatrize
facinus omnifariam persequatur.
2 Libanius doubtless expresses what he
had seized from the life of the times, when
he says, speaking of a certain Aristophanes,
who, even under the reign of Constantius,
had continued steadfast in the profession of
Heathenism: “ What rewards might he not
have obtained from Georgius, if he had been
willing to make in the church a public pro-
fession of Christianity, and to insult the
gods? What prefecture of Egypt, what
power with the eunuchs of the court, and
with the emperor himself, would not Geor-
gius have procured for him? Ποίαν οὐκ
ἂν προὔπιεν Αἴγυπτον ἀντὶ ταὕὔτης τῆς κωμῳ-
δίας ; παρὰ τίσιν οὐκ ἂν εὐνόυχοις τὸν ἄνϑρω-
πον ἀπέφῃνεν ἰσχυρόν; ἥπτετ᾽ ἂν eb ἴσϑι,
καὶ τῆς Κωνσταντίου κεφαλῆς εἰ τὴν ἑαυτοῦ
κεφαλὴν πρὸς Τεώργιον ἤρειδεν." Pro Aristo-
phane, vol. I. 448. This agrees with the
description which Athanasius gives of those
who became Christians for the sake of
spiritual offices, to obtain exemption from
the burdens of the state, and to secure
powerful connections, — men who were sat-
istied with any creed, provided only they
could be released from state burdens, and
maintain their connections with those in
power: Ἕως μονὸν εἰσὶν ἀλειτουργῆτοι καὶ
προστασίαν ἀνϑρωπίνην ἔχουσι. Athanas.
hist. Arianor. ad monachos, § 78
80 CONSTANTIUS.
for Christian names, — in which only Christian forms and ceremonies
were substituted in place of the Pagan, and from which, under a change
of circumstances, it would not be difficult to retreat back to Paganism.
The passions which in controversial disputes excited the Christians to
rail at each other ; the impure motives which crept in on these occa-
sions, especially through the influence of the court; the zeal for a for-_
mal orthodoxy and church ceremonial among so many who in their
lives manifested a spirit so different from that of the gospel, — all this
must have served to give support to the false accusations against Chris-
tianity current among the Pagans; as in the earlier times the effects of
the gospel on the lives of its followers had tended to further its pro-
gress. Thus a heathen party had kept itself alive, which, in its fanati-
cism, rising under the pressure of distress, and taking advantage of all
that was bad in the Christian church, flattered itself with the hope of one
day seeing the worship of its gods victoriously restored.
The spirit which for the most part animated this party, was by no
means a purely religious fanaticism. Τὺ was a blind love for the old an-
tiquities of Greece and Rome ; for Grecian art and science, which, to
these Pagans, seemed, not without reason, to be closely connected with
the old religion. It was their enthusiastic attachment to everything
connected with the old Greek and Roman manners, which filled them
with hatred to Christianity, —a religion which introduced a new, spirit-
ual, and to them unintelligible, creation. Hence it was that Paganism
found its most zealous promoters among the rhetoricians, philosophers,
and men of learning ; and that the attachment to it lingered especially
in many of the ancient and noble families of Greece and Rome. The
rhetoricians who made an open profession of Paganism, or who, although
they professed Christianity, were Pagans at heart, had opportunities
enough, although they did not venture publicly to attack the latter m
their lectures, yet, in expounding the ancient authors, to communicate
imperceptibly to the minds of the youth a direction hostile to Christi-
anity. What we have already remarked with reference to the preced-
ing period, still continued to be true ;—that the religious symbolism,
derived from the Neo-Platonic philosophy, was the most important
means resorted to for dressing out Paganism as a rival of Christianity,
and for imparting an artificial life to that which was already effete.
Speculative ideas and mystical intuitions were to infuse into the old
insipid superstition a higher meaning. Theurgy, and the low traffic in
boastful mysteries, contributed greatly also to attract and enchain, by
‘their deceptive arts, many minds, influenced more by a vain curiosity,
which would penetrate into what lies beyond the province of the human
mind, than by any true religious need. Yet in art and science there
was nothing truly creative, which could spring any longer out of the
withered trunk of Paganism. ll the creative power dwelt in Christi-
anity. ‘This alone could impart the spirit of a new life into the forms
borrowed from the Grecian art and science. Those who, instead of
yielding to the new creation by which everything was to be restored to
the freshness of youth, mourned over the grave of the ancient world,
which had long since perished, could do nothing more than form an
JULIAN’S YOUTH AND EDUCATION. 37
idle patch-work out of the old fragments of rhetoric, philosophy, and
literature.
From what has now been said, it is easy to see that, should a pagan
emperor once more ascend the throne, this Paganism would make
another attempt to gain the supremacy ; since for the moment every-
thing in fact depended upon the will of the emperor, although indeed
no human will had the power of actually calling back to life what was
already dead. And to this very end, that a pagan emperor should
once more-be established on the throne, Constantius was to prove the
instrument, — Constantius, who had ever been the chief cause of mis-
chief to the Christian church, for which he displayed so much zeal.
The new emperor was Julian, the nephew of Constantius, whose de
sertion to Paganism admits of an easy explanation, both from the
peculiarity of his character, and from his course of life and education.
In fact, a very slight turn seemed all that was necessary to change the
peculiar bent, manifested by the whole family of Constantines, for the
outward show and form of religion, from Christianity to Paganism; and
this turn Julian took from his earliest youth. Having lost, as it is said,
early in life his nearest relatives, through the jealousy of his uncle, who
discarded the natural feelings of kindred, this circumstance would leave
on the mind of Julian no very favorable impression of the religion
which prevailed at the imperial court, and for which Constantius mani-
fested such excessive zeal ; although, at the time this took place, he was
too young to be conscious of any such impression. very pains was .
taken to keep him away, while a boy and a young man, from the infec-
tion of Paganism, and to fasten him to Christianify. This was done
as well from political as from religious motives ; since any connection
of the prince with the pagan party might prove dangerous to the state.
But the right means were not chosen to secure this end. What was
thus forced upon him could not easily take root in a mind which natu-
rally hated constraint. This careful surveillance would only have the
natural effect to excite his longing after that which they were so anx-
ious to keep from him. And the men, too, whom the court employed
as its instruments, were not such as would be likely to scatter in the
mind of Julian the seeds of a thorough Christianity, and to leave impres-
sions on his heart calculated to give a decided Christian direction to
his inner life. It was in a diligent attention to those outward religious
forms which busy the imagination, that he and his brother Gallus were
chiefly exercised, while pursuing their education under vigilant mas-
ters, ἴῃ the solitude of Macellum, a country-seat in Cappadocia. Their
very sports were made to wear the color of devotional exercises ; a8
when they were taught to emulate each other in erecting a chapel over
the tomb of Mamas, a pretended martyr, held in special veneration
throughout this district. The boys might easily become accustomed to
all this ; and, unless some mightier reaction took place in the inmost
recesses of the mind, the habits thus formed might become fixed, as
they actually were in the case of Gallus ; but not so, where a mightier
influence than religious mechanism began to work in an opposite direo-
tion, as in the case of Julian.
VOL. Il. “4
88 JULIAN’S YOUTH
Both are said to have been educated as ecclesiastics ; they were cun-
secrated as pre-lectors in the church, little as the disposition of either
one of them was suited for the clerical profession. This office, which
had been given to Julian when young, must have made him quite famil-
iar with the scriptures ; and the writings of Julian do actually show,
that he possessed a ready acquaintance with the letter of the scrip-.
tures: but of what avail could that be, when his mind had taken a
direction which unfitted him altogether for entering into their inward
meaning, and his heart was ever “wholly disinclined from submitting to
the doctrines which they taught? Homer, on the other hand, was ex-
pounded to him by a man much more skilful in imparting to the imagi-
nation of the young student an enthusiasm for his author, than the
clergy had proved to be in implanting a love of the divine word in his
heart. This was Nicocles, a civilian, enthusiastically devoted to the
Grecian literature, who, after the fashion of the Platonists of that pe-
riod, contemplated Homer, through the medium of an allegorical inter-
pretation, as the guide to a higher wisdom.1 Probably, in ‘his own con:
victions, he was a Pagan,? although he might not openly avow this to be
the case; and we may well conceive, that such a person was far more
fitted to disseminate imperceptibly in the mind of the young student
something hostile to Christianity, than to cherish in him the Christian
tendency. Besides, the light in which such an instructor must have
taught him to contemplate Homer, would not be likely to harmonize with
Christianity.. Two heterogeneous and hostile elements were here
brought at once into his soul ; the one penetrated deeply, the other
only touched lightly upon the surface. These two elements might, it
is true, rest peaceably side by side ; and the more so, the less deeply
Christianity took hold of the life: but a conflict between them might
afterwards easily be excited by outward causes, and a religion after-
wards find its way to his soul, the medium of entrance for ‘which had
been prepared by that fundamental element of his education. Thus he
contracted a great fondness for the study of the ancient Greek poets
and orators generally; and this love for ancient literature next formed a
point of transition to the love of ancient Paganism, as the living spring
of this literature, the two things being in fact intimately connected in
the view of the pagan party among the learned. It was said, indeed,
that the ancient literature had sunk with the ancient religion, and
that the disgrace of that literature had followed close after the degra-
_ dation of the temples in the time of Constantine ---- a complaint which
In one respect was wholly groundless, inasmuch as this literature, with-
out inward life, had long carried within it the germ of its own decay,
and nothing but Christianity remained to infuse new life into the dead
bones of antiquity.?
1 Liban. Πρεσβευτικὸς πρὸς Ἰουλιανόν. 8 Libanius, not without reason, says to
Vol. I. p. 459. ᾿Εἰδὼς ἐΐπερ τις͵ τῆς Ομῆρου Julian: Ὅτι καὶ πρὸς τιμὴν τῶν ϑεῶν ὑπ’
γνώμης τὰ ἀπόῤῥητα. αὐτῶν ἐκινήϑης τῶν λόγων. Πρὸς φωνητικ.
2 Otherwise Libanius would hardly have Vol. I. p. 405, οἰκεία καὶ συγγέννη ταύτα ἀμ-
bestowed on him so much praise in the pas- φοτέρα, ἱερὰ καὶ λόγοι. Vol. II. p. 437
sage just referred to.
AND EDUCATION. 899
After six years’ residence at the country-seat in Cappadocia, Julian
was called, in the year 350, to Constantinople, where he occupied him-
self exclusively with literary pursuits. Here he was not allowed to
avail himself of the instructions of the rhetorician Libanius, who open-
ly acknowledged himself a Pagan; but the rhetorician Ecebolius, a
man of less elevated mind, who accommodated his religion to the air
of the court, and who, under Constantius, was a zealous Christian and
a violent antagonist of Paganism, while under Julian he became an
equally zealous Pagan and antagonist of Christianity, obtained, as the
reward of his hypocrisy, the charge of the prince’s education.1 How
could such an instructor imbue the youthful mind of his pupil with the
love of Christianity !
The foolish Constantius, who must be so often deceived and led to
act contrary to his own interests where he thought that he was doing
the utmost to promote them, was afraid to leave a young prince, that
already began to attract a good deal of attention, behind him at Con-
stantinople, while he himself went to the West on his expedition against
Magnentius. He gave him leave, therefore, to visit Nicomedia, in
Bithynia, for the purpose of prosecuting his literary pursuits at a
flourishing seat of learning, where several distinguished rhetoricians
were teachers. Yet there he was exposed much more to the infec-
tion of Paganism than at Constantinople, where fear and worldly
interest induced even those who were Pagans at heart to wear the mask
of Christianity. He was obliged to promise, on departing from Con- |
stantinople, that he would not attend the lectures of the pagan Liba-
nius, who also then taught at Nicomedia. But the prohibition, as might
be expected, served only to stimulate his curiosity; and he contrived
to procure copies of the lectwres of Libanius, which indeed, if we may
judge from his writings that remain, barren as they were of ideas and
sentiments, dry in their contents, and rich only in the ornaments of
rhetoric, could have attractions only for a very disordered mind, unac- |
customed to healthy nourishment, weaned from simplicity, and easily
pleased with the glare of superficial ornament. The gratification which
he found in the lectures of Libanius, doubtless brought him gradually
into connection with the whole pagan party. At its head, stood at that
time, along with the rhetoricians, the Platonists, who had schools in
Asia Minor, particularly at Pergamos. The most renowned among these
Platonists were the old Adesius, Chrysanthius, Eusebius, Maximus.
The last-mentioned was also an adroit juggler, who boasted of his power
to do great things by means of supernatural agents. These Platonists
maintained a close correspondence with the Pagans at Nicomedia. To
gain over a young man who was destined to hold so important a posi-
1 Liban. epitaph. Julian. vol. I. p. 526. self to the penance of the church, that he
Σοφιστὴς τις πονηρὸς τοῦ κακῶς ἀγορεύειν might be again admitted to its communion ;
τοὺς ϑεοὺς μισϑὸν εἶχε τὸν νέον. Socrates that he prostrated himself on the earth
(1. III. c. 1) mentions his name. The same before the door of the church, and called
writer also relates the rest which is noticed out to the people, —“ Tread me under
in the text, and moreover adds, that after foot; Iam the senseless salt, πατησατέὲ με,
Julian’s death he was for once more playing τὸ ἅλας τὸ ἀναίσϑητον. Socrat. 1. III. ¢. 18,
the Christian, and proposed to subject him-
40 JULIAN’S CONVERSION TO PAGANISM.
tion in the state, was naturally regarded by them as a great object,
worthy of the most skilful finesse. It may easily be conceived that
the mind of Julian, already perverted and made vain by his rhetorical
education, and eagerly catching at the glitter and pomp of words,
would be more strongly attracted by the dainty philosophico-mystical
Paganism which these people set forth —by their high-sounding phrases
about the heavenly derivation of the soul, its debasement to matter, its
bondage, and its freedom, and by their pretended clearing up of the
doctrine concerning gods and demons—than by the simple gospel, even
if this had been preached to him. But the Christianity which he actu-
ally possessed, a Christianity that turned wholly on externals, could
easily make the transition to Paganism. They now gave him proofs
of the pagan art of divination, which surprised and deceived him.
They showed him predictions! of an approaching triumph of the gods ;
and, indeed, flattered him with the hope that he himself was the destined
instrument to achieve it. The greatest influence over him was pos-
sessed by the braggard Maximus, who had come over from Ephesus ;
for he was precisely the man to entrap a youth like Julian. He took
him along with him to Ionia; and there, in the society of Neo-Platonic
philosophers and hierophants, the work begun at Nicomedia was fin-
ished. Julian was converted, from being an outward Christian, with a
secret leaning to Paganism, of which perhaps he was himself uncon-
scious, into a decided and zealous Pagan.”
1 To this Libanius alludes in ep. 701,
when, under Julian’s reign, he writes: Nov
τῆς ἀληϑείας τὸ κρατός, τὰ μὲν λογίσμοις,
τὰ δὲ μαντείαις εὑρισκομένης.
2 Here especially the narratives of Liba-
nius, who was then a rhetorician at Nico-
media, and in part an eye-witness of the
facts, are of weight. Προσφωνητικ. πρὸς
᾿Ιουλιανόν͵ vol. I. p. 408. Respecting Julian’s
residence in Nicomedia, he says: Ἢν yap τις
σπινϑὴρ μαντικῆς αὐτόϑι κρυπτόμενος, μόλις
διαφυγὼν τὰς χεῖρας τῶν δυσσεβῶν (the severe
persecutions, by the Christian emperors. of
the pagan art of divination, see above) ὑφ᾽
ᾧ δὴ πρῶτος τἀφανὲς ἀνιχνεύων TO σφοδρὸν
μῖσος κατὰ τῶν ϑεῶν ἐπέσχες (perhaps hopes,
which were ertertained by himself with re-
gard to what he should one day become;)
then he mentions his journey to Ionia, where,
by the δοκοῦντα καὶ ὄντα σοφόν, that is, by
Maximus, he was led to the full knowledge
-of the truth. Epitaph. Julian. 1. c. 528, he
mentions less distinctly how Julian, during
his residence in Nicomedia, having once
fallen into company with Platonicians, and
heard them discourse on divine things, sud-
denly changed his opinions. Exe lovAvavov
Avroxpatop. ὑπατον, |. c. 376, ἐκείνην ἐγὼ τὴν
ἡμέραν ἀρχὴν ἐλευϑερίας τῇ γῇ καλῶ, καὶ μα-
καρίζω τόπον τε ὃς τὴν μεταβολὴν ἐδέξατο καὶ
τὸν τῆς γνώμης ἰατρὸν͵ ὃς κινδύνον τὸν κώλλι-
στον αὐτός τε κινδυνεύσας, καὶ τόνδε πείσας,
μετὰ τοῦ μαϑητοῦ τὰς κυανέας διέπλευσεν" (the
voyage to Jonia in company with Maximus,
which beyond question would have exposed
both him and Julian to great danger, if Juli-
an’s conversion to Paganism had been dis-
covered). What Eunapius relates, particu-
larly in the life of Maximus, (ed. Boissonade,
vol. I. p. 49, ff.) cannot, indeed, be received as
literally true ; and besides, it is too inexact to
be used in deciding about the time when
events occurred in this portion of Julian’s his-
tory: yet these accounts contain a good deal
which serves to illustrate the characters of
both Julian and Maximus. When Chrysan-
thius first tells the young man about the
magical arts of Maximus, (how, by his forms
of incantation, he had caused the statue of
Hecate to laugh, and the torches in her
hands to kindle of themselves,) as it is said,
for the purpose of warning him against these
things, so foreign from the pure spiritual phi-
losophy. Julian exclaims :— ἡ Keep to your
books; you have shown me the man whom
I seek ;” and he hastens from Pergamos to
meet him at Ephesus. Something like this
may perhaps have happened, thongh the
time, place and circumstances are here not
correctly stated. The warning letter which
Gallus wrote to Julian, during the residence
of the latter in Ionia, because the reports
that Julian had gone over to Paganism had
excited his alarm, agrees with the above
account; as also the remark of Julian in his
proclamation to the Athenians, that he was
a zealous and‘ decided Christian until his
one and twentieth year; for this would coins
cide with the time of his residence in Nico-
media, with the year 351: though it ought
HE BECOMES EMPEROR. 41
Although Julian had special reasons for concealing his conversion to
Paganism, which, if it became known to Constantius, might have cost
him his life; yet he could not avoid exciting suspicions with regard to
his connections in Ionia. His brother Gallus, who happened to be at
that time in the neighborhood, heard reports which troubled him. But
Altius, an ecclesiastic of Antioch, who was on friendly terms with
Julian, quieted his suspicions by informing him, that Julian frequented
the churches, and especially the chapels of the martyrs; and since it
can hardly be supposed that AXtius invented this story merely to soothe
Gallus, it may hence be gathered to what arts of dissimulation Julian
descended. The assassination of Gallus (in 354;) the danger in
which he was himself for a long time involved through the jealousy of
Constantius; the imprisonment in which he was held ;— all this could
only serve to render the Byzantine court, and the Christianity which
was here worn for a show, still more hateful to him. The ever-deluded
Constantius finally gave him permission to reside for some time at
Athens, the ancient flourishing seat of literary studies and Hellenism.”
Pagan priests, hierophants, and rhetoricians, here combined their efforts
to stimulate his zeal in the cause of Paganism; pagan youth were his
companions ; and he became the secret hope of the whole pagan party.
While Julian, already elevated to the dignity of Czesar, was carrying
on the war in Gaul, his fear of the jealous temper of Constantius led
him to adopt every possible expedient for keeping his pagan way of
thinking concealed ; and so, on the feast of Epiphany of the year 361,
he assisted at the celebration of the Christian worship at Vienna. He
was attended by only three men, who agreed with him in their religious
views, and joined with him in his secret observance of the pagan cultus,
- 8' slave who was his librarian; his physician Oribasius,! an enter-
prising man, whose pretended knowledge of magic, divination and the
interpretation of dreams, gave him great influence with Julian; and
Sallustius, a learned civilian, whom the emperor had sent with him for
the purpose of watching his proceedings, but who, by his friendly inti-
macy with Julian, soon excited suspicion, and was removed.
Thus the religious convictions of Julian had been rendered doubly
dear to him by these measures of constraint, when, in the year 861, he
was placed himself on the imperial throne, and found it in his power
not only freely to express his true principles, but also to aim at remod-
elling after them the whole state of religion in the Roman empire.
to he taken into consideration, that this can-
not well be understood literally, and that
Julian himself perhaps would not be able
‘distinctly to recall that which had taken
place in his mind by gradual and progres-
sive changes.
1 See the letter of Gallus to Julian. Ju-
lian, opp. 454.
2 Gregory of Nazianzen, who just at that
time was also studying at Athens, writes in
his orat. 90, p. 331: Βλαβέρα τοῖς ἀλλοῖς
᾿Αϑῆναι τὰ εἰς ψύχην τοῖς εὐσεβεστέροις καὶ
γὰρ πλουτούσι τὸν κακὸν πλοῦτον τὰ ειδώλα
μᾶλλον τὴς ἄλλης ἑλλάδος͵ καὶ χαλετόν μὴ
VOL. Il. 4*
συναρπασϑῆναι. τοῖς τούτων ἐπαινέταις καὶ
συνηγόροις.
ὃ Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XXTI. c. 2.
4 Comp. Julian, ep.ad Atheniens. Eunap.
vit. Oribas.. Eunapius says. indeed, that he
made Julian emperor, which probably has
reference to those higher arts in which Ori-
basius was supposed to be a proficient. See
the letter of Julian to Oribasius in his criti-
cal situation, where he also communicates
tohim adream. Ep.17. Respecting Sal-
lust, Zosim. 1. III. ᾿ς. 9. Julian’s consola-
tory address at taking leave of Sallust, orat.
8, and ep. ad Athenienses.
42 JULIAN.
Perhaps beyond any one of his predecessors among the Roman em-
perors, he made account of the office of supreme pontiff. He took
special delight in offering multitudes of sacrifices and in slaughtering
the victims with his own hand, and, by the great zeal which he mani-
fested on these occasions, often exposed himself to the ridicule of the
Christians. He labored to found a mystical hierarchy, fashioned after
his own Neo-Platonic ideas, leaving ample room, however, for the admis-
sion of the old superstitions of Paganism ; a phenomenon of which history
furnishes many examples, where it is attempted, by means of some arbi-
trary speculative system, to infuse artificial life into the dead form of an
antiquated superstition. In his letter to a high priest, Julian declares
himself an enemy to all innovation, especially in whatever pertains to
the gods: ‘‘ The traditional laws of the country ought invariably to be
observed from the beginning; for these were manifestly given by the
gods, otherwise they could not have been so excellent.”1 We may
learn from a set of instructions, which he probably drew up for the use
of his priests, how he would attempt to restore the whole worship of
images, and defend himself against the objections of the Christians.
** Out of the supreme unity emanated first the pure world of intelli-
gence,” embracing the gods, who are exalted above all contact with
sensible things, and who live only in pure spiritual intuition: the inter-
mediate link between these and the partly spiritual, partly sensual race
of mankind, is formed by the eternal living images of those invisible
gods in the heavens, viz. the divine souls veiled under the resplendent
heavenly orbs, which visibly represent the former, and by which their
influence is diffused down to the earth. But since these great heavenly
beings are still too far removed from the sensual race of man, and since,
moreover, no sensual worship, such as is adapted to man’s sensual
nature, can be paid to these, images of the gods have been invented on
earth, in order that, by paying homage to them through these, we might
thereby obtain their favor; just as those who pay homage to the em-
peror’s images, obtain thereby the favor of the emperors, not because
the emperors stand in need of such homage, but because, by showing
our willingness in whatever it is possible for us to do, we evince the
true piety of our dispositions. But whoever, neglecting that which lies
in his power, pretends to strive after what transcends his powers, only
neglects the former, without really being in earnest about the latter.
If we are to offer God no sensible worship, because he is the self-suffi-
cient Being, it would also follow that we must not praise him by words,
. nor honor him by our actions. Accuse us not of holding the gods to
be wood, stone, and brass. When we look at the images of the gods,
we ought not to see in them stone and wood; but neither ought we to
suppose that we see the gods themselves. We should not think of
calling the images of the emperors, stone, wood, and brass, nor the em-
perors themselves, but we should call them images of the emperors.
Now, whoever loves the emperor, is pleased at beholding his image —
1 Ep. 63 ad Theodos. Φεύγω τὴν καινοτομίαν ἐν ἁπᾶσι μὲν, ὡς ἐπὸς εἰπειν͵ ἰδίᾳ δὲ Ev τοῖς
πρὸς τοῦς ϑεοῦς. 2 The κοσμός νοῆτος.
HIS DEFENSE OF IMAGES. 43
whoever loves his child, is pleased at beholding the image of his child.
So whoever loves the gods, looks with pleasure on their images, pene-
trated with awe towards those invisible beings that look down upon
him.”! But what good could that man’s heart whose necessities im-
pelled him to seek after the fountain of salvation, and to whom religion
was something more than a mere play of idle speculations or an enter-
tainment of rhetoric or poetry, derive from all these fine-spun explana-
tions? How great the difference between this religion, which, flattering
man’s sensual nature, offers him the most beautiful forms, only that he
may never come to the consciousness of what he is, and of what he
needs —and the religion which deprives man of every sensual prop
to which he would fain cling in order to evade this sacrifice and self:
renunciation, so that he may rise through faith in the only Redeemer,
who has come down to him in order to raise him up to himself, to
heaven, to that life which is hid in God, to the worship of God in spirit
and in truth! And of what advantage were Julian’s explanations to
the rude populace, who did not understand them? ‘They, at least, saw
their gods, in the images of wood, stone, and brass. The emperor,
therefore, is right indeed, when, from his own point of view, he says
that the Christians could not derive from the destruction of the idols
and of the temples under the former reigns any evidence against them,
since everything that is transient and temporal must share the fate of
the temporal. ‘‘ Let no one,”’ says he, “‘ refuse to believe in the gods,
because he has seen or heard that some have committed sacrilege on
the images of the gods and on the temples.” But against the popular ἡ
superstition, this evidence was after all by no means so feeble. And of
this Julian himself seems to be aware — hence he is so indignant on the
subject.2_ He proceeds next to deduce the whole sensual pagan worship
out of those general ideas: ‘‘ We are bound,” he says, “‘ to pay reli-
gious worship, not only to the images of the gods, but also to the tem-
ples, —to the sacred groves and the altars. It is right, moreover, ©
to honor the priests, as ministers of the gods, the mediators between us
and the gods, who help to procure for us those blessings which flow to
us from the gods, since it is they who sacrifice and pray for all.”
Here indeed Julian needed only to transfer the ideas of the priesthood
which he might have derived from his Christian education, back again
to the pagan soil which was most congenial to them. Very consistently,
he required that even in unworthy priests, the objective dignity of the
priesthood should be honored: ‘So long as he sacrifices for us, and
stands before the gods as our representative, we are bound to look
upon him with reverence and awe, as an organ of the gods most worthy
form law of moral order in the world, could
be very justly pointed out; and Julian was
mistaken only in his interpretation of them.
1 See opp. Julian. fol. 293, seq. '
2 He appeals to the fact, that at this time
_ all the insults on the sanctuaries had met
with due punishment. An argument which,
we must allow, was often employed in like
manner by the Christians; and which in no
case proves anything, since God’s judg-
ments are unsearchable to men. In many
cases, without doubt, the divine judgments,
80 far as they had their ground in the uni-
The depraved men who, under the reign of
Constantine, had enriched themselves at the
expense of the temples, met with the pun-
ishment of their wickedness; and sometimes
Julian himself did his own part to bring
about these pretended punishments of the
gods.
44 JULIAN’S LAWS
of all honor. If the priest were only spirit, not soul and body together,
he might uniformly maintain the same tenor of life. But since this is
not so, the life which he devotes to his sacred functions must be distin-
guished from the rest. During the whole of that time, he must live
like a super-earthly being, be constantly i in the temple, ‘occupied with
holy contemplations ; he may not go into any private house, visit any |
public place, nor even see a public magistrate elsewhere than in the
temple. In performing the functions of his office, he should also wear
the most costly apparel.” The divine, therefore, was to be repre-
sented by earthly pomp — quite in accordance with the pagan way of
thinking.
The “species of intellectual and moral culture which Julian would
give to his priests had been, until now, foreign from the mechanical
ritual of Paganism. ‘The priest was to live a life worthy of the gods,
—nhe was never to hear or to use any unbecoming language, nor to
read any improper poet. It behoved him especially to occupy himself
wholly with philosophy, and particularly with that which begins from
the gods, as the philosophy of Pythagoras, of Plato, and Aristotle, of
Chrysippus and Zeno. ‘The priest should restrict himself to those doc-
trines of philosophy which lead to piety; and these, we must allow,
make up a very meagre list: “‘ First, that the gods exist; next, that
they take an interest in the affairs of this world; and next, that they
bring no evil on men, that they are free from jealousy, not the enemies
of mankind.” The last, he says, ought to have been taught by
the Grecian poets, and by the prophets whom the Galileans admire.
Thus to Julian, who had very superficial notions respecting the nature
of God’s holiness, and of sin which 1s opposed to it, everything said in
the Old Testament of God’s vindictive justice seemed jealousy and
enmity to mankind. ‘Of Epicurus, of Pyrrho, the priest should read
nothing ; indeed, it had been so ordered by the gods for the general
good, that of the writings of these men, the greatest part had already
perished.” 1
Julian was obliged to borrow much from the Christian church, in
order to bring about, by means of his spiritualized Paganism, a reaction
against Christianity ; — a thing which could not last, however, but which
must eventually turn to the advantage of Christianity. He wished to
introduce the didactic element from the Christian church into his pagan
forms of worship. Garlanded priests appeared upon the tribune, clothed
in a purple mantle; it being the wish of Julian, that, in performing the
᾿ functions of their office, they should wear sumptuous vestments, and
thereby command respect.2- Here, in pompous language, they gave
1 Τῇ like manner as when Christian eccle-
day were easily despised, while the pompous
siastics were forbidden to read the writings
and seemingly sublime inspired faith.” Πολ-
of pagan authors or of the heretics.
Gregory of Nazianzen pertinently re-
marks on the conduct of these Pagans in
this particular:
that they study after what is dignified and
imposing, what surpasses the ordinary ex-
perience ; as if the common things of every
“I have often observed,
λαχοῦ τὸ σέμνον ἔγνων αὐτοὶς σπουδα:ομένον,
καὶ τὸ ὑπερώνω τοῦ ἰδιώτου, ὡς τοὺ μὲν κοίνου
καὶ πέζου τὸ εὐκαταφρονῆτον ἐχόντυς, τοῦ δὲ
ὑπερόγκου καὶ δυσαφίκτου τὸ ἀξιοπιστον
Gregor. Nazianz. orat. steliteut. 1. vel erat
IIL. opp. I. p. 103.
FOR THE PRIESTS. 45
allegorical expositions of the pagan fables, expositions which the popu-
lace did not understand, or which at least could not affect their hearts.
Julian would not admit that there was anything of divine power in
Christianity: he sought, therefore, to explain, and to account for, its
spread by outward causes; and he endeavored to make these available
for the promotion of his own new pagan hierarchy, without duly consid-
ering that these outward means were closely connected with the pecu-
lar spirit of Christianity. In his letter to Arsacius,! supreme pontiff
of Galatia, he says, what has especially contributed to the spread of
Atheism is philanthropy towards strangers, care for the burial of the
dead, and an affected dignity of life (things, evidently, which had sprung
of their own accord out of the peculiar influence of Christianity on the
minds of men;) Christian brotherly love, that tenderness of feeling
which showed itself in honoring. the memory of the dead, and the moral
sobriety which was so opposed to pagan licentiousness.2 ‘ All these
things the Pagans should make matters of earnest study. And letit not
be thought enough if Arsacius himself leads a worthy life ;? he must
prevail upon the priests generally in Galatia to pursue the same course,
or depose them from the priestly office, if they would not, with their
wives, children, and slaves, devote themselves to the honor of the gods ;
if they would suffer their wives, servants, or sons, to unite themselves
with the Galileans. ‘heir priests were not to visit the theatre nor the
shops; they were not to engage in any unsuitable occupation. In
every city, houses were to be established for the reception of strangers,
(ξενοδοχεία, )}" where not only Pagans, but all others who needed assistance,
might find entertainment.6 ‘lo meet the expense of these establish-
ments, he caused to be distributed among the priests thirty thousand
measures of grain; and whatever was left, after they had provided for
their own support, was to be distributed among the strangers and pau-
pers; since it was shameful, he said, that no Jew ever begged, and
1 Ep. 49.
2 So also in the fragment of the Instruc-
tion for a high priest, opp. 305. The Gali-
leans, having observed that the poor were
neglected by the priests, had taken care to
pay special attention to these acts of philan-
thropy, and had thus enticed men to their
ruin. In the same manner as men coax
children with cakes, so they had commenced
at once with the agape, with the liberal re-
ception of strangers, and with the office of
deacons, — ἀρξάμενοι διὰ τῆς λεγομένης Tap’
αὐτοῖς ἀγάπης καὶ ὑποδοχῆς καὶ διακονίας
tpareCov,— alluding to the oldest institu-
tions and arrangements of the church. From
this point should begin the cure. In other
words, then, Julian was in hopes to bring over
many to Paganism by the distribution of
money ; and doubtless, where there were so
many whose highest object was the satis-
faction of their earthly wants, he may not
have calculated wrong. Constantine had
in fact pursued a similar course (see above.)
To be sure, this method of conversion ac-
cords badly with Julian’s declamation, —
that the gods had respect only to the dispo-
sition of the heart. But there was a similar
contradiction also between Constantine’s
proclamations and his conduct.
3 That however no great stress was laid
on the moral character of those who were
thought to assist towards restoring the pagan
worship, and that sometimes the moral prin-
ciples of these persons were extremely lax,
may be shown from a passage in Libanius.
He applauds it as a proof of the chastity of
his Aristophanes, that he had never been
guilty of adultery, — ἀλλ᾽ ἐν ταῖς ἀφειμέναις
εἰς "Adpoditne ἐξουσίαν τὰς τῆς ὀύσεως ἐκού-
φιζεν ἀνάγκας. And yet he says: ᾿Εγὼ μὲν
γὰρ οὐδ᾽ ἱερὰ τῶν κειμένων ἀνοικοδομεῖν ὑπὸ
ταῖς τοῦδε φροντίσι, φαίην ἂν πλημμελές, ὁρῶ
γὰρ οὐκ ὀλίγων τῶν νῦν ἐπ’ ἐκείνῳ τεταγ-
μένων τόνδε σωφρονέστερον, vol. I. p. 446.
4 Imitation of the laws of the church re-
specting the clergy. ᾿
6 Imitation of the Christian ξενοδοχεία
and πτωχοτροφεία. skal
6 It is easy to see Julian’s design in this.
46 - JULIAN.
that the godless aati: besides their own poor, supported those of
the Pagans; while the pagan poor obtained no assistance from their
own people. He should also accustom the Pagans themselves to such
acts of kindness, and the pagan villagers to offer their first-fruits to the
gods.! The governors he should seldom see in his house ; for the most
part he should only write to them. Whenever they made their en- .
trance into the city, no priest should go out to meet them ; but if they
came to the temple, the priest might go out to meet them as far as the
court. In that case, no guard should accompany them ; for as soon as
he crossed the threshold of the sanctuary, the magistrate became a 4
vate man; the priest was supreme in the interior of the temple.”
This last principle, Julian applied to his own person, and not without
reason, at that time; since he could not fail to remark, that in the
temples many paid more attention to the emperor than to the gods.
Thus he was not pleased with the general salutation, ‘‘ Long live the
emperor!” which broke forth, when on a certain occasion he unexpect-
edly (as he supposed, although, perhaps, the assembled crowd had been
long waiting only for him) appeared in the temple of Fortune at Con-
stantinople ; and he therefore issued the following rescript to the peo-
ple of that city: “ Whenever I appear unexpectedly in the theatre,
you are permitted to salute me with acclamations. But when I come
unexpectedly into the temple, preserve quiet, and transfer your praises
to the gods, or rather the gods require no praise.” 2
The objective dignity of the priesthood, Julian sought zealously to
maintain. For example, an officer, whose duties were in some way or
another connected with the administration of the pagan cultus, had
caused a pagan priest to be beaten, and on this ground was accused
before the emperor by the high priest of his province. Julian severely
reprimanded him for not respecting the priesthood, even in its unwor-
thy representative, if such he were ; and for having dared to expose
to such violent treatment the priest, before whom he was bound to rise
even from his chair of office. Having observed, probably, that many,
to please him, represented themselves as cherishing different opinions
from what they really entertained, he added: ‘ Perhaps the bishops
and presbyters of the Galileans sit with you, if not. publicly out of re-
gard to me, yet secretly in your house.” The individual here ad-
dressed was punished by being excluded for three months from all
business which stood connected with the functions of the pagan priest
hood.?
1 Imitation of the church collects and of
the oblations among the Christians. To
this imitation of the ecclesiastical regulations
of the Christians in the founding of schools,
in the institutions of charity, in the epistolis
formatis for travellers, and in the system of
penance, Gregory of Nazianzen very justly
refers in orat. III. p. 102.
2 Published by Muratori, anecdota Graeca.
Patav. 1709, p. 832. El μὲν εἰς τὸ ϑέατρον
λάϑων εἰσηλϑον, εὐφημεῖτε, εἰ δὲ εἰς τὰ ἱέρα,
τὴν ἡσυχίαν ἄγετε καὶ μετενέγκατε ὑμῶν τὰς
εὐφημίας εἰς τοὺς ϑέους, μᾶλλον δὲ οἱ ϑεοῖ
τῶν εὐφημίων οὐ χρηζοῦσιν. Muratori was
of the opinion, that the οὐ, which the manu-
scfipt has here, originated in a misconcep-
tion; but the negation is required by the de,
by the whole construction of the passage,
and by the sense. It is moreover altogether
in Julian’s manner, to conclude with a dig-
nified philosophical sentence of this sort, in
whatever contradiction it might. stand with
his superstition.
3 Julian. ep. 62. It is difficult to deter-
mine to whom this. letter was addressed.
From the condemning sentence, τῶν εἰς
RESTORATION OF THE TEMPLES. 41
As Constantine caused the churches which had been destroyed in
the Dioclesian persecution, to be rebuilt, and restored to them the
estates of which they had been deprived ; so Julian undertook to pur-
sue a similar course in regard to the temples which had been destroyed
and plundered in the preceding reign. Many of the governors prose-
cuted this business with great zeal; some, led on by their own interest
in the cause; others, because they knew that by so doing they would
in the surest and easiest way gain favor with the emperor. The images
of the gods, which had been rescued from the hands of the Christians,
* e conveyed back to the temples in the midst of festive processions.1
- But, in rebuilding the temples, Julian did not proceed in the same
upright and honorable manner as Constantine had done in restoring
the churches. The latter, as we have remarked, had caused these to
be rebuilt at his own expense; and he had indemnified those who had
legally come into possession of the buildings belonging to the churches,
or of the grounds upon which they stood. But Julian compelled the
Christians who had taken any share in the destruction of the temples
during the preceding reign, or who perhaps were only accused of this
by popular rumor, to be at the expense of rebuilding them. ΤῸ those
who were required to give up property of this sort, he allowed no indem-
nification ; thus giving occasion to many acts of oppression and yvio-
lence, resorted to against individual Christians under the pretence of
restoring the temples*— which oppressions sometimes fell on those
who in the former reign had been distinguished for their gentleness
and forbearance, and the moderate use of the power which was in their
hands. The letters of Libanius, the rhetorician, to Antioch, in which
he intercedes with the pagan governors and priests in behalf of those
who are said to have suffered under such acts of injustice, furnish indu-
bitable evidence of this; while they redound to the honor of the man,
in spite of his many foibles, who, zealous Pagan as he was, so earnestly
remonstrated against the injustice done to the Christians.*
ἱερέα μηδέν ἐνοχλεῖν, it might be conjectured, of the Christians.) Make them to weep,
that the matter related to a priest; yet the
whole contents of the letter contradict this
supposition. The language, moreover, does
not lead us to suppose, that a mere excom-
munication from the pagan ceremonies
(sacris) is here meant. Hence I have repre-
sented the matter as it stands in the text.
1 See respecting the festivities at the res-
toration of an image of Artemis, which had
been torn down by the Christians, Liban.
ep. 622, ete. The emperor himself was in-
formed by the governor of the province,
how great expense had been made at this
festival, and how many sacrifices had been
offered. ep. 624. Libanius writes to a cer-
tain Seleucus, who probably held civil office:
“At present we behold altars, temples,
sacred groves, and images of the gods, which
have been decorated by you, but which will
also decorate you and your posterity. Since
you have so great allies, count the arrows
of the godless race to be pointless (he should
give himself no concern about the enmity
who have long time made merry with the
better cause. You are bound to give thanks
to the gods, that they have caused you to
become a father; which thanks vou must
render to them, by helping to erect their
prostrate temples,” ep. 680.
2 See Sozomen, Hist. V. 5. The edict was
made known at Alexandria on the X. Me-
chir, (4th of February,) 362:— “ Reddi idolis
et neocoris et publicz rationi, qu preteritis
temporibus illis sublata.” See the anony-
mous biography of Athanasius, p. 69.
8 Thus to Hesychius, a priest at Antioch
(ep. 636:) © That I am no less desirous than
you priests, that the temples should be pre-
served in their beauty, you are aware of
more than others. Yet I should be unwill-
ing to have that done by the destruction of
houses, which might be done if they re-
mained standing; since I prefer that what
already exists should remain, and what has
been prostrated should be restored, — and
not that we should beautify the cities in one
-
48
JULIAN.
It was a topic on which Julian often declaimed, that the gods regard
only the disposition of their worshippers.
He declared, that no god-
less person ought to take part in the holy sacrifices, until he had puri-
fied his soul by prayer to the gods, and his body by the prescribed lus-
trations.! Yet he was quite satisfied, if he could but induce goodly
numbers to sacrifice, without troubling himself any further about their dis- .
position ; and to promote this object, he spared neither money nor places
of honor: though we must admit, that the Christian emperors had done
the same thing, and in a manner still less becoming, with regard to
respect, while we deform them in another.
True it is easy to bring a complaint against
the house of Theodulus ; but it deserves to
be spared, since it is beautiful and spacious,
and makes our city more beautifyl than
other cities. In the next place for this
reason,—because Theodulus did not plunder
the temple with arrogance and impiety, but
purchased it from the sellers, paying the
price for it, which was a privilege allowed
to all those who could buy.” In like manner
he intercedes with Bacchius, one of those
who had it in charge to restore the temple-
worship, as he was about to re-erect a de-
molished temple of the Graces, and intended
to collect the necessary money in ready cash
from a certain Christian, named Basiliscus,
who had perhaps had a hand in the destruc-
tion of the temple, or had in some way come
into possession of its treasures, thus throw-
ing the latter into great embarrassment.
Libanius petitions for this individual, that
he might be required to pay only half the
sum at once, and permitted to discharge the
remainder of the demand at a future time.
He entreats Bacchius to have some regard
to Aimylianus, the father or relative of this
Christian, who, although the power was in
his hands, yet under the former reign had
conducted towards the Pagans with so much
moderation: Ov γὰρ ἣν τῶν ὑβριζόντων,
καὶ ταῦτα ἐνὸν, εἰπὲρ ἐβούλετο. This noble
feeling deserved to be rewarded. “Show
your care for the sanctuaries, by increasing
the multitude of sacrifices, hy seeing that
the sacred rites are accurately performed,
and by restoring the prostrate temples; for
you must be devout to the gods, must show
yourself compliant to the will of the emperor,
(τῶ βασιλεῖ χαρίζεσϑαι.) and embellish your
, native city.” Ep.669. Thus he intercedes
with a certain Belzeus, who, from a rhetori-
cian, had become a judge at Antioch, in be-
half of a certain Orion, who in the preced-
ing reign had distinguished himself in a
public office by his moderation, but who
now was charged with having robbed the
temples of their treasures, and, although he
was quite poor, was called upon to pay
large sums of money, and, as he found
himself unable to do this, was to be com-
pelled to it by bodily punishment. In his
first letter to Belzus, ep. 673, he says:
“Orion proved himself, under the preceding
reign, to be a mild and generous man; he
did not imitate those who made a bad use
of their power, but, on the contrary, blamed
them. But I have also heard from the citi-
zens of Bostra, that he neither made war
against our worship, nor persecuted priests ;
and that he saved many from misery by the
mild administration of his office. This
man I have now seen cast down and full of
distress. And shedding a flood of tears be-
fore he could give utterance to his words,
he said, ‘I have but just escaped from the
hands of those to whom I have shown
kindness. Though I have done evil to no
man, when I had the power to do so, I have
notwithstanding been almost torn in pieces.’
And he added to this, the flight of his
brother, the breaking up and scattering of
his whole family, and the plundering of his
furniture; all which, as I know, is not ac-
cording to the will of the emperor. But
the emperor says, that if he has any of the
property which belongs to the temples, let
him be called upon to give it up; but if he
has not, then let him neither be insulted nor
abused. Yet it is manifest, that those men
are coveting the goods of others, while they pre-
tend to be desirous of helping the yods.” In
the second letter, he writes: “ Although he
differs from us in his religious persuasion, it
redounds to his own injury, that he has de-
ceived himself; but he ought not, in justice,
to be persecuted by his acquaintance. I
could wish that those very persons who now
oppress him, would only recollect the cases
in which he has so often assisted them, and
would prefer rather to show him their grat-
itude, than seek to bury their benefactor
alive. Having long since persecuted and
plundered his relations, they seized at last
upon the person of this man, as if they
would thereby fulfil the wishes of the gods,
while in truth they are very far from honor
ing the gods by any such conduct as this.
But it can be no matter of surprise, that
the multitude allow themselves to be hur-
ried along without reflection, and follow
their impulses, instead of that which is
right. He says, he made no robbery. But
granting that he did, how is it that you now
hope, when the whole has been consumed,
to find mines of gold in his skin?” Ep. 781
1 Ep. 52 ad Bostrenos.
HIS VIHWS OF JUDAISM. 49
Christianity.1_ In this way, as a matter of course, many would be
gained over, who, in the preceding reign, had been induced, by similar
motives, to profess Christianity ; men, who, as a father of this period
(Asterius of Amasea, in Pontus,) remarks, changed their religion as
easily as their dress.?_ In a discourse preached in the reign of one of
the next succeeding emperors, the same contemporaneous writer
describes this class of people as follows: ‘‘ How many abandoned the
church, and ran to the altars? How many allowed themselves to be
enticed to apostasy by the bait of honorable offices? Branded with
disgrace, and despised, they wander about the cities, and are pointed at
by the finger of scorn, as those who also have betrayed Christ for a few
pieces of silver.” As Julian attached a superstitious value to sacrifi-
ces, he labored, for nine months, to prevail upon the soldiers of the
army which he was preparing against the Persians, to offer to the gods.
When the arts of persuasion had been tried in vain, he employed gold
and silver, for the purpose of buying over the soldiers to his views.*
His hatred of Christianity, and of the Christians, might of itself, it
is true, have rendered Julian more favorably disposed towards Juda
ism and the Jews; but, as in everything he was glad to take the con-
trary course from that which had been pursued in the previous reign,
it was agreeable, both to his inclination and his principles of govern-
ment, to patronize the Jews, who had been oppressed under Constan-
tius. It must be added, however, that he was more favorable to Juda
ism than to Christianity, for the same reasons that had influenced the
Pagans before him. He saw in that religion, at least, a national ritual,
addressed to the senses, from which he conceived it possible to prove an
affinity between Judaism and Paganism. Said” he to the Chris-
tians: “1 ama true worshipper of the God of Abraham, who is a
great and mighty God; but you have no concern with him. For I
worship him as Abraham worshipped him; but you do not follow
Abraham. You erect no altars to God, nor do you worship him, as
Abraham did, with sacrifices.””® In his opinion, the worship of the
God of Abraham might blend harmoniously with the worship of the Gre-
cian gods ; he blamed only the exclusive, intolerant character of Juda-
ism. So very imperfectly did he understand the nature of pure Theism,
which, wherever it exists, will have absolute supremacy, and must strive
to destroy, as an ungodly element,
along with it, that the jealous God
1 Gregor. Nazianz. orat. funeb. in Cesar.
orat. 10, fol. 167. Τοὺς μὲν χρήμασι, τοὺς δὲ
ἀξιώμασι, τοὺς δὲ ὑποσχέσεσι, τοὺς δὲ παν-
τοίαις τιμαῖς ὑφελκομένος.
2 Ady. Avaritiam, ed. Rulben. Antverp.
1615, p. 43. ‘Qonép ἱμάτιον ταχέως τὴν
ϑρησκείΐαν μετεμφιεσάντο.
8 See l. ec. Modestus, an officer of state,
who had for a long time supported the
party of the emperor Constantine in oppo-
sition to Julian, probably in order to acquire
the favor of the latter, embraced Pagan-
ism, and obtained for this not only pardon,
but the prefecture of Constantinople, al-
VOL. 11.
everything which claims authority
of the Old Testament, who, to all
though Libanius writes to him: Πρὸς τῶν
Gear, ob¢ πάλαι ϑαυμάζων viv ὡμολογῆσας.
Ep. 714.
4 This Libanius narrates in praise of the
emperor, Epitaph. in Julian. vol. I. p. 578.
He says on this occasion: “ By means of a
small gain, the soldier obtained a greater
one; by gold, the friendship of the gods, on
whom depends the fortune of war.” Such
was the religion of these persons, who, in
contrast with the Christians, assumed the
air of enlightened men!
6 Julian. ap. Cyrill. c. Julian. 1. X. p. 354
50 JULIAN’S ATTEMPT TO REBUILD THE TEMPLE.
the ungodly, is a consuming fire, appeared to him as an envious God, sub-
ject to human passions. He supposed there could be only two possible
cases ; either that the God whom the Jews worshipped was the univer-
sal Architect of the world, the δημιουργός, to whom the other particular
divinities were subordinated ; in which case it was only his prophets
who had been unworthy of him; men, who, because their minds had
not been purified by scientific culture, had transferred to him their
own false notions, and represented him as so selfish and intolerant; or
else, that they had in reality had only a limited national God, whom
they regarded, however, as that Supreme Being; just as the Gnostics
maintained, that the Jews had confounded their Demiurge with the Su-
preme Deity.1 He seems to have inclined, for the most part, to the
former view, — that the God of the Old Testament was, in truth, the
great Architect and Ruler of the whole visible world, whom the Pagans
also worship under other names.”
Since, then, he entertained a high respect for the Jewish worship, as
an ancient national institution, he conceived the wish to restore the
Temple at Jerusalem, as a splendid memorial of his reign; in doing
which he perhaps hoped, also, that he should be able to defeat the
prophecy of Jesus, although this had already been fully accomplished.
He expended vast sums upon this object ; but the work which had been
undertaken with so much labor, did not succeed. Volumes of fire,
bursting forth from the subterranean vaults which had been opened,
destroyed the unfinished labors, and frightened the workmen.? Although
this may have proceeded from natural causes, yet might it be a warn-
ing rebuke to the emperor, that no human will could rebuild what had
once been destroyed by a divine judgment.t But he did not, on this
account, as yet relinquish his plan.® Having relieved the Jews from
the heavy impositions by which they hitherto had been oppressed, he
invited them now, with minds free from anxiety, to implore their great
God, who could turn everything to the advantage of his government,
that, after having brought the Persian war to a successful termination,
17, c. 1. IV. f. 48, 155, where he calls the
doctrine of a ϑεὸς ζηλώτης a βλασφη-
ia.
τς Ep. 63, p. 454, fragment. epist. ad sa-
cerdot. p. 295. Tov μὲν ϑέον εἶναι peyar,
οὐ μὴν σπουδαίων προφῆτων οὐδὲ ἐξηγήτων
τυχεῖν, αἰτοῦν δὲ ὅτι τὴν ἑαυτὴν ψύχην οὐ
παρέσχον ἀποκαϑᾶραι τοῖς ἐγκυκλίοις μαϑήῆ-
“μασιν. f. 306, Cyrill. c. Julian. 1. IX.
3 The historian Ammianus Marcellinus,
who was not a Christian, gives the simplest
and most impartial account of this event,
1. XXIII. c. 1: Metuendi globi flammorum
prope fundamenta crebris assultibus erum-
pentes, fecere locum deustis aliquoties ope-
rantibus inaccessum: hocque modo elemen-
to destinatius repellente cessavit inceptum.
The exaggerating legend added a great
deal more about fire falling from heaven,
fiery shapes of the cross on the clothes of
the workmen, &e. .
Δ ΤΊ 15. noticeable how lightly he himself
touches on the subject. Fragm. epist. p. 295:
Ti περὶ τοῦ νεὼ φησούσι, Tov map’ αὐτοῖς τρι-
τὸν ἀνατραπέντος, ἐγειρομένου δὲ οὐδὲ νῦν.
Pagi places the command for the rebuild-
ing of the temple in the year 363, in which
fell. the celebration of the Decennalia in
honor of Julian’s accession to the Caesarean
dignity; and the position which Ammianus
Marcellinus gives to this event might seem
to favor this view. But as the above-cited
letter of Julian must have been written af-
ter the frustration of the plan for rebuild-
ing of the temple, and that letter cannot be
placed in so late a period, this circumstance
would stand opposed to such a determina-
tion of the chronological date.
5 That is, in case the letter mentioned in
what follows in the text was written after
the frustrated attempt to rebuild the tem-
ple, which is indeed possible, although the
contrary is generally assumed to be the
fact.
᾿ HIS TOLERATION. 51
he might be enabled, with them, to dwell and worship the Almighty in
the holy city Jerusalem, rebuilt by his labors.
As it respects Julian’s conduct towards the Christians, he was not
inclined by nature to cruel and violent measures. Besides, he was fond
of assuming an air of philosophical toleration, and, in this particular
respect, wished to present a direct contrast to the character of Constan-
tius, who had occasioned so much evil by his fanatical and despotic
spirit of persecution. Moreover, the Christian party was already so
powerful, that violent measures might easily prove dangerous to the
public peace, which he sought to preserve. And Julian was wise
enough to learn, from the oft-repeated trials, that persecution would but
tend to increase the spread of Christianity. There were, moreover,
examples, under his own reign, of individual Christians, who, after hav-
ing been exposed to ill-treatment, on account of their faith, from a
fanatical pagan populace or cruel governors, and exhibited constancy
under all their sufferings, became objects of universal reverence among
the Christian population, and obtained the greatest influence ; as was
remarkably shown in the case of Marcus, bishop of Arethusa in Syria.
When, therefore, Libanius, in the letter which we have just cited,
would restrain a governor from indulging in the cruel persecution of a
Christian who had been accused of robbing the temples, he warned him
thus: “If he is to die, then, in his chains, look well before you, and
consider what will be the result. Take heed lest you bring upon us
many others like Marcus. This Marcus was hung up, scourged,
plucked in the beard, and bore all with constancy. He is now honored
as a god, and, wherever he appears, everybody is eager to take him by
the hand. As the emperor is aware of this, he has not allowed the man
to be executed, much as he is grieved at the destruction of the temple.
Let the preservation of Marcus be a law for us.” ?
It may, indeed, be questioned, whether rational grounds, wise pur-
poses, and humane feelings, would have availed anything against a
fanaticism made up of such heterogeneous elements, — a fanaticism
which is ever the most easily inclined to persecution, — whether they
could have checked his natural disposition, which impelled him to vio-
lence wherever he met with opposition. Yet deep within his soul there
existed another principle, which prompted him to bring back the erring
to their own good, to the way of truth, though at first it might be
against their will. This he undesignedly illustrates in a rescript, issued
by him in a state of mind very much excited by opposition, where he
1 See ep. 25, f. 397.
2 See Liban. ep. 731. The same Libani-
us says, in his Epitaph. in Julian. p. 562,
that the Christians, in the beginning of Ju-
lian’s reign, expected to suffer similar per-
secutions as they did under the earlier pa-
gan emperors. But Julian, he observes,
censured those measures, by which, after
all, they could not attain their end. “For
men may indeed bind the bodily sick in
order to heal them, but a false opinion re-
specting the gods cannot be expelled by the
knife and cautery. Though the hand may
offer incense, the soul is still dissatistied
with it, and there is only a seeming change.
Some afterwards obtained pardon (those
who, yielding to force, had offered, and’
were afterwards restored to the fellowship
of the church.) But those who died for
their convictions, were honored as gods.”
Yet it is very evident, that these truths
were rather worn for a show, than consis-
tently carried out.
δ2 JULIAN’S COVERT ATTACKS.
says: “ It were right, that these persons, like madmen, should be cured
in spite of themselves. Yet to all who are suffering under this sort of
disease, indulgence must be shown; for I am of the. opinion, that we
ought to instruct, and not punish, the unreasonable.” 1 How easily
might it happen, under some particular outward excitement, that the
principle to which the voice of reason and the feelings of humanity were.
still opposed, should finally become the ruling one!
At first, however, Julian was best pleased, when, by covert attacks,
in which indeed he often forgot what honesty and justice required even
in an opponent, and what became the dignity of an emperor, he could
injure the church, and undermine its interests, by means which betrayed
no hostile design. ‘To this class of measures belongs that edict, well
conceived for this purpose, by which, at the:very beginning of his reign,
he recalled all the bishops and clergy who had been banished in the
reign of Constantius, and granted equal freedom to all parties of the
Christian church. He might have found suthcient inducement for
enacting such a law, in the relation he stood in to the Christian church ;
for it was impossible for him to take the same interest in the controver-
sies of the Christians which Constantius had done. Although some
among-the Christian sects may have come nearer to his own views, in
the character of their doctrinal opinions, than others, — as indeed he
himself allowed,? — yet all the Christian parties were exposed to his
hatred, on account of their opposition to Paganism.? He was desirous
also, at the same time, to place the mildness of his own government, in
this respect, in direct contrast with the severity of Constantius. “1
believed,”’ he says in a letter to the inhabitants of Bostra,! ‘‘ the lead-
ing men of the Galileans would feel themselves more indebted to me
than to my predecessors in the government; for it happened under the
latter, that many of them were banished, persecuted, deprived of their
property ; and, indeed, whole masses of heretics, as they are called,
were swept off at a stroke ; so that, in Samosata, Cyzicus, Paphlagonia,
Bithynia, Galatia, and among many other races of people, entire villa-
ges were made utterly desolate. But under my government the fact
has been the very reverse ; for the banished have been permitted to
return, and their property is restored back by our laws to those whose
estates had been confiscated.”’? But Julian certainly entertained the
hope, — a fact respecting which both Christian and pagan historians
are generally agreed, — that the different parties of the Christians, who
persecuted each other with so much fury, would in this way each
“ destroy the other. In this hope he was doomed to be disappointed ; and
from the very nature of the case it could not be otherwise. Party pas-
1 Ep. 42.
2 Thus, for instance, he praises Photinus,
because his representation of Christ’s per-
son was more rational than the prevailing
doctrine of the church. See the fragment
of Julian’s letter to Photinus, in Facund.
Hermian. defensio trium capitulor. 1. IV.
. 379. Sirmond. opp. T. II. ἢ 376, ed.
enet. 1728. The special honor which he
showed to the Arian /Xtius was owing, not
so much to his doctrinal opinions, as to his
earlier personal connection with the empe-
ror. See ep. 31, Julian:
3 Thus, in another passage, to be found
in Cyrill. c. Julian. VII. ἢ 262, he places
Photinus in one and the same class with the
other Christian dogmatists, and says he did
not concern: himself with their doctrmal
disputes, ἀφίημι δῆτα τὴν μάχην buiv
4 Ep. 52.
RECALL OF THE EXILED CLERGY. 58
‘sion among the Christians would, undoubtedly, never have risen to so
high a pitch, had it not been for the interference of the state. As this
disturbing and circumscribing influence of a foreign power now fell
away of itself, and the church was left to follow out naturally its own
development from within itself, the right relations were everywhere more
easily restored. No patronage of the Christian church by the civil power
could have been so advantageous to it, under the then circumstances,
as this indifference of the state towards all that transpired within its
ale. '
᾿ The edict by which Julian recalled the bishops from their banish-
ment, may, without doubt, have been very indistinctly expressed ;! so
that it could be understood to refer merely to their return into their
country, or also to their return to their posts. As Julian allowed to all
religious parties the free exercise of their religion, it was understood,
as a matter of course, that the bishops of all Christian parties could
enter freely into the administration of their offices. But the emperor
might have expressed himself indistinctly on purpose ; or he might
sometime afterwards have given the law this construction of indistinct-
ness, in order to provide himself with liberty to act against those bish-
ops whose influence seemed to him too powerful a counterpoise to his
own designs. ΤῸ this class belonged the zealous and energetic bishop
Athanasius of Alexandria. .
After this bishop had again administered his office for eight months,?
earnestly laboring for the interests of the Christian church, there
appeared an edict of the emperor, addressed to the Alexandrians, in
which it was charged upon him as a grievous crime, that, after having
been banished by many rescripts of many emperors,® that is, of Con-
stantine and Constantius, he had not waited for a single imperial edict
authorizing him to return back again to his church ;* for the emperor
had given permission to those who had been banished by Constantius to
return home, not to their churches, but only to their country. Yet
Athanasius, it was alleged, hurried on by his usual pride, had arro-
gated to himself what among them was called the episcopal throne.
But this was not a little displeasing to that God-fearing people, the
Alexandrians. By this God-fearing people, Julian meant, of course,
only the Pagans, to whom, indeed, it could be no otherwise than in the
highest degree unpleasant, that Athanasius should be bishop. As soon
as this letter ὅ arrived at Alexandria, Athanasius was commanded to
leave the city, under the threat of far severer punishments. Sorely
1 The edict arrived at Alexandria on the
XIV. Machir, (the 8th of February, accord-
ing to Ideler’s tables,) of the year 362, and
was published on the day following : “ Epis-
copos omnes factionibus antehac circumven-
tos et exiliatos reverti ad suas civitates et
provincias.” Thus it is stated in the life of
Athanasius, which was composed by an
anonymous contemporary writer, and of
which a fragment in an ancient Latin trans-
lation has been published by Maffei, Osser-
VOL. Il. 5*
vazioni letterarie. Verona, 1738. Tom. IIL
ag. 69.
2 See the above-cited Life.
8 Where Julian might take advantage of
the fact, that various charges were brought
against Athanasius, which did not relate
barely to doctrine, passion at that time
mixing everything up together.
4 Yet Gerontius, the prefect of Egypt,
had thought himself authorized to recall
Athanasius to his bishopric. (See 1. ¢.)
5 See ep. 26.
54. JULIAN’S ARTIFICES.
vexed must have been Julian, when he found that the diseased portion,
as he expressed it, of the Alexandrians, (the Christians,) showed no
disposition to follow the healthy portion, (the Pagans ;) but the diseased
part, who in fact constituted by far the majority, ventured to call
themselves the city, and, in the name of the whole city of Alexandria,
to send him a petition, in which the community besought him, that their
bishop might be spared to them. In a declamatory letter,! he not only
rejected their request, but immediately banished Athanasius from the
whole province of Egypt. His remarks to the Alexandrians, on this
occasion, show how little he knew what the heart of man, thirsting after
righteousness, requires, and what religion is designed to bestow on
man, — how accustomed he was to confound worldly and spiritual
things. ‘Tell me,” says he to them, ‘‘ what good have they ever done
to your city, who have now introduced among you this new proclama-
tion? Your founder was Alexander, the Macedonian, who, indeed,
ought not to be brought into comparison with any of these; nay, not
even with the Hebrews, who were far superior to these.” He then
goes on to rebuke them severely for refusing to worship the god visible
to all, the Sun, whose powerful and benign influence they must all expe-
rience ; and for thinking themselves bound to receive Jesus, whom
neither they nor their fathers had seen, as the God-Logos. He
descends to rude and vulgar language, equally unbecoming a philoso-
pher and an emperor, in speaking of the great man whom he ridi-
culed,? without a sense to appreciate the spirit which actuated him 3
and yet the anger he shows towards him, proves how much he dreaded
his influence. In this letter, he assigns, it is true, political reasons as
his motives for banishing Athanasius: ‘It was a dangerous thing for
so cunning and restless a man to be at the head of the people.” Yet,
in his letter to the prefect of Egypt, he betrays the true cause of his
displeasure against the man, expressing his vexation, that, through the
influence of Athanasius, all the gods should be despised ; and declar-
ing that nothing would give him greater joy than to hear that Atha-
nasius, the godless wretch who had dared under his reign to baptize
noble Grecian women, was banished from every district of Egypt.®
Julian descended to many an unworthy trick, for the purpose of
bringing men, without a resort to forcible measures, to join against
their will in the ceremonies of the pagan religion. He caused his
statues, which were set up in the public places, to be surrounded with
emblems taken from the pagan religion. A Jupiter over his head
, reached down to him the purple mantle and the crown ; while Mercury
and Mars looked on with an approving smile. Whoever now paid obei-
sance, as was customary at that time, to the emperor’s image, must at
the same time testify respect to the gods; and whoever declined to do
80, was liable to be accused as a violator of the imperial authority.* It
might here be said that Julian, according to his own religious princi-
1 Bp. 51. ἀνϑρωπίσκος εὐτελῆς ---- alluding probably to
2 He styles him a man who deserved not his bodily statare.
to be called a man, a miserable little man— ἡ Ρ- 6.
4 Sozom. V. 17
HIS RESTRICTION OF CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS. 55
_ ples, was compelled to regard all the affairs of state as standing in this
connection with religion ; and was without any design, in this case, of
injuring the conscience of the Christians. But, judging from the spirit
which he evinces on other occasions, we may well believe him capable
of such banter ; and, at all events, if he understood the rights of con-
science, he ought to have been more indulgent to the religious convic-
tions of a majority of his subjects. In like manner, when he distribu-
ted from the imperial throne a donative among the soldiers, he had
placed beside him a censer, with a dish of incense. He who would
receive the donative from his hands, must first cast some of the incense
into the censer. This was to signify, that he offered incense to the
gods, whose images, perhaps, were standing somewhere near by. If Ju-
lian looked upon it as so important a thing, when, by the distribution
of money, he could prevail upon his soldiers to sacrifice, it would doubt-
less gratify him, even when he could do no more than bring them to the
mechanical act of scattering incense ; and he might hope, by accustom-
ing them to such a mechanism, and by the golden bait, to carry them a
step farther. When they had once become aware that by such con-
duct they had violated the obligations of the Christian faith, and that
the love of earthly gain had overpowered the voice of conscience, one
step in sin would easily lead them to another. But many were really
not aware of what they had done ; and when they afterwards learned
that they had been betrayed into an act of idolatrous worship, they be-
came despondent, publicly declared before the emperor that they were
Christians, and begged him to take back the money, if it was to be the -
price of their denial of the faith. A particular case of this sort is re-
lated, in which a number of soldiers were first made aware of what
they had done at a festival which followed the distribution of the dona-
tive, when, drinking to their comrades, as was customary on such occa-
sions, in the name of Christ, they were reminded, that they had just
denied him whose name they now invoked.1
Among the artifices by which Julian hoped to undermine the Chris-
tian church without resorting to sanguinary persecutions, was also his
forbidding the Christians to set up schools of rhetoric and grammar,
and to explain the ancient authors. He supposed that Christianity
could not dispense with these foreign supports ; that, unless it had ap-
propriated to its own purposes the scientific culture of the Greeks, it
would not have spread so far ; and that the scriptures, which the Chris-
tians called divine, did not afford a sufficient fountain in itself of human
cultivation, but that this must be derived by them from the creations of
the gods whom they denied, from the literature of the Greeks. In his
work against Christianity, says Julian to the Christians : ‘“*‘ Why waste
your energies on the literature of the Heathens, if the reading of your
own scriptures contents you? Certainly you ought to be more solici-
tous to keep men from. the former, than from eating the meat of the
1See Sozom. V.17. Gregor. Naz. orat. water was handed round, and each, before
TII. steliteut. I. fol. 85. According to the he drank, made over it the sign of the cross
latter’s description, it took place when, at in the name of Christ.
the conclusion of the meal, the cup of cold ΄᾿
56 JULIAN’S ARTIFICES.
sacrifices ; for, according to Paul himself, the latter can harm no one ;
but, by those sciences, every noble spirit that nature has produced
among you, has been led to renounce your godless doctrine.” A very
bold assertion, directly in the face of plain facts; such, for example,
as that the most zealous students of the ancient writers were precisely
those who had become the most distinguished teachers of the church.
But, if Julian really believed his own assertion, he must have vastly -
preferred that the Christians should teach the ancient classics, than
than that they should explain the Bible to their youth. ‘ Let them,”
said he, ““ try the experiment of instructing a boy from the first in noth-
ing but the Bible, and see if he would turn out anything better than a
slave.” 1
The truth is, however, that it was not the design of these scriptures
to serve as a means of hwman cultivation, but rather to impart the ele-
ment of a divine life, without which no human cultivation can truly
thrive, —an element whereby the human education becomes ennobled
to a divine one. And what the spirit of these scriptures, wherever re-
ceived in its purity, can accomplish, independent of any means of human
culture, is taught by the history of the effects of Christianity among
the laity at all times; effects of which even Julian might have found
examples, if he had only inquired into what took place in the retire-
ment of private life. Christianity, indeed, as Julian understood it; —
a Christianity which consisted merely in a certain mechanical routine
of outward actions, or in a system of formal and lifeless notions, — was
incapable of producing such effects.
Ancient art and literature appeared to Julian, as we have already
remarked, closely connected with the worship of the gods; but it was
unjust, and a manifest tyranny over conscience, to force these, his own
subjective opinions, on all his subjects. It was a policy which unpreju-
diced Pagans themselves—as, for example, Ammianus Marcellinus? —
openly condemned. We see to what result this system of religion, at
once sophistic and fanatical, could lead. ‘‘ How scandalous,”’ he de-
clares in his law relating to this matter, “‘ that they should expressly
teach that which they hold to be most detestable ; that they should en-
tice away by their flatteries those to whom they would inculcate their
own bad opmions! All teachers, in whatever department they teach,
should be honest men, and cherish in their soul no opinions at variance
with those which are publicly recognized.? But they, beyond all others,
should be such who, as expounders of the ancient authors, exert an influ-
ence upon the education of the youth, whether they be rhetoricians, or
᾿ grammarians, or, above all, sophists;* for they will be teachers, not of
words only, but also of morals.” They might either avoid teaching
1C. Christian. 1. VII. p. 229.
31, XXV.c 4.
8 Kai μὴ μαχομένα τοῖς δημοσίᾳ τὰ ἐν τῇ
ψύχῃ φέρειν δοξώσματα, ---- ἃ principle which,
avowed with some consistency on the
ground assumed by Julian, who was for es-
tablishing a pagan state-religion, was often
very inconsistently expressed by Christian
magistrates, on the ground of Christianity,
which should never be a state-religion.
4 The sophists, in the stricter sense of
the word, who were to diffuse an influ-
ence into the whole literary and intellectual
culture, were ‘then distinguished from the
rhetoricians in the more restricted sense of
the word.
HIS RESTRICTION OF CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS. 57
what they themselves considered not good ; or else, by their own act,
first convince their pupils that none of the authors whom they explained,
erred and blasphemed in religion, as they had hitherto been accus-
tomed to say. But in attempting to gain their subsistence in so dishon-
orable a manner, by means of the writings of those authors, they must
confess themselves the most covetous of men, and ready to commit any
meanness for a few drachms.
Julian would have had good cause for this accusation, if Christians
had consented to become pagan priests, and, under this outward appear-
ance, made sport of the pagan religion. But the case was different, when
they gave instruction in such matters as, in their own opinion, stood in no
connection whatever with religion, and at the same time openly avowed
their Christianity ; so that it was at the pleasure of heathen parents, if
they feared the influence of these teachers upon their children, to keep
them away from such schools. We see here a most unjustifiable in-
stance of arguing consequences, which all others must be obliged to
adopt, because they seemed just as regarded from the emperor’s own
religious point of view; but in this we must allow that Julian was by
no means alone. He goes on to say: ‘If they believe those men to
be in error on the most important subjects, then let them go into the
churches of the Galileans, and expound Matthew and Luke.” At the
same time, however, he permitted the Christian youth to attend the
schools of pagan teachers,!— a permission of which he would of course
be gratified to have them avail themselves, as he might hope they would
be gained‘over by pagan teachers to embrace their religion.” .
Two celebrated men of that age are known to us, who relinquished
their stations as rhetorical teachers for the sake of their faith; Prosx-
resius, a distinguished rhetorician at Athens,’ and Fabius Marius Vic-
torinus at Rome. The latter had shortly before embraced Christianity
in his old age. He had been a diligent student of the Greek philoso-
phy, and had translated several of the works of Plato into Latin. He -
was probably attached to the Neo-Platonic Hellenism, and was es-
teemed one of the most important pillars of the old religion. But in
his old age, he became conscious of a craving after some more certain
and stable ground of faith. He went to the study of the Bible, and
examined it carefully. He was convinced of the truth of the divine
doctrine; and in confidence informed the presbyter, Simplicianus of
Milan, that he was at heart a Christian. ‘The latter replied to him,
that he would not believe it until he saw him within a Christian church.
“ What! then,”’ rejoined Victorinus, “do walls make Christians?” The
truth was, however, that his heart still clung too strongly to the world,
—he was not willing to sacrifice everything to the Lord; and it was
this which prevented him from making a public profession. He was
1 Without troubling ourselves about man- οὐδὲ φόβῳ καὶ... Otherwise the second
ifestly exaggerated and inaccurate accounts,
we confine ourselves simply to the words of
Julian, and to the narrative of the impar-
tial Ammianus.
2 Tsuppose that in the passage above re-
ferred to, ep. 42, the reading should be:
οὐδὲ required here would be wanting, and
the appropriate reference would be wanting
to the following antithesis. Besides in Ju-
lian, τὰ πατρία is always used to designate
the national pagan sacra.
8 See Eunap. vit. Prowres. T. I. pag. 92.
58 JULIAN’S HATRED OF THE BISHOPS.
afraid of those zealous Pagans, the noble Romans who were his disci-
ples, and with whom he stood in the highest consideration. But as the
word entered more deeply into his heart, his own conscience forced him
to a public profession ; and he demanded that it should be made in the
most public manner, when, to spare his feelings, the presbyters of the
church proposed to omit some part of the usual ceremony. After this,
it cost him no struggle to lay aside his rhetorical office.’
The two learned Christians from Syria, Apollinaris, father and son,
as a compensation to the Christian youth for that which they had been
deprived of, were in the habit of writing historical and doctrinal por-
tions of scripture in all the forms of Greek verse. This, however,
would prove but a sorry substitute for that which the study of classical
antiquity was designed to furnish, in order to that natural development
of the human mind which Christianity presupposes. As the church
historian, Socrates, very justly remarks in stating this fact: “ Divine
Providence was mightier than the pains-taking of these two men, and
than the will of the emperor.” ?
Julian hated especially the bishops, who were so active in propagat-
ing the faith; and these would most easily have become the objects of
persecution, if his fanaticism had but once proved too strong for his
feelings of humanity and principles of civil polity. Like the pagan
emperors before him, he saw in those who presided over the instruction
and government of the Christian communities, the chief supports of
Atheism (ἀϑέοτης.) He imagined that by a crafty policy, he could
easily gain over the misguided people, if he was not counteracted by
the bishops. And, for the reasons just mentioned, hated above all
others by him were those bishops who had been zealous students of the
Greek literature, and who applied this literature itself to the service of
Christianity and the subversion of Paganism ; for instance, those men
with whom, when a youth, he had studied at Athens, the two friends,
Basilius, bishop of Cesarea, and Gregory of Nazianzen; and those who,
under his reign, dared to employ Grecian science in combating Pagan-
ism and in defending Christianity, such as Apollinaris of Laodicea, and
Diodorus, bishop of ‘Tarsus in Cilicia.?
1 Augustin. Confession. 1. VIII. c. 2, et
seqq.
The remarks of Socrates on this occa-
sion, respecting the necessity of the study
of ancient literature in order to the pro-
gressive culture of the Christian church,
are very correct. L. III. c. 16.
3 Well worthy of notice are the fierce
declamations of Julian against this latter, in
his letter to Photinus, of which Facundus
of Hermiane has preserved to us the frag-
ment already mentioned, in a bad Latin
translation, Defens. trium capitulor. L IV.
379. He reproaches him with having at-
tended the school at Athens; there studied
philosophy, music, and rhetoric; and thereby
armed his tongue to fight against the gods.
Hence he was punished by the gods with
consumption; for his sunken features, full
of wrinkles, and his emaciated body, were
not, as those whom he deceived would have
it appear, the effects of his rigidly ascetic
life, (of his πολιτεία φιλοσοφικὴ.) but the just
punishment of the gods. Quod non est phi-
losophicse conyersationis judicio, sicut vide-
ri vult a se deceptis ; sed justitize pro certo
deorumque pcenz, qua percutitur compe-
tenti ratione usque ad novissimum vitz suze
finem asperam et amaram vitam vivens et
faciem pallore confectam. Assuredly we
can more easily pardon such judgments in
Pagans, than, in Christian teachers and
writers of this period, the altogether simi-
lar way, in which, unmindful of the book
of Joh, and of the words of our Saviour,
John 9: 3, they interpret attacks of disease
and other calamities which befell heretics
TITUS OF BOSTRA. GREGORY. MARIS. 59
In a very unworthy manner did he conduct himself towards Titus,
bishop of Bostra, in Arabia. When he had made him responsible
for the preservation of the public peace and order in that city, where,
on account of the excited state of feeling between Pagans and Chris-
tians, the slightest cause might lead to scenes of violence, the bishop,
in a memorial, drawn up in the name of the whole body of the clergy,
and intended for their defence, declared to him: ‘‘ Although the Chris-
tians, on account of their numbers, might bid defiance to the Pagans,
yet they were restrained from disorders by the admonitions of the
clergy.” Upon this, Julian despatched a letter to the inhabitants of
Bostra, in which he exhorted both parties, Christians and Pagans, to
maintain quiet and use forbearance towards each other; and then pro-
ceeds to describe the clergy (whose conduct, indeed, in many countries,
had, under former reigns, well deserved this reproach) as being the
authors of all the disturbances. “It is,” says he, ‘‘ because they look
back with longing to their former authority, because they are not per-
mitted to hold tribunals, to dictate wills,! to seize upon the possessions
of others, and appropriate the whole to their own uses, that they throw
everything into confusion.”” He next quotes to the Christian commu-
nities, the above-cited declaration from the bishop’s letter, wrested out
of its proper connection, for the purpose of representing him as their
accuser, and of holding him up to their detestation. They ought, he
said, to rise of their own accord against such an accusing bishop, and
drive him from the city ; and the masses should be united together. .
This latter hint, certainly, did not agree well with his general exhorta-
tion to quiet; but it is easy to see that Julian hoped, if he could get
them into a quarrel with their bishop, to make them unite more easily
with the Pagans.”
Sometimes the bishops forgot the duties which, according to the
Christian doctrine, they owed to the supreme magistrate, even though
a Pagan, and gave the emperor just cause for persecuting them; yet,
in such cases, he did not do everything which in strict justice he might
have done. In general, he was more apt to be excited where anything
was attempted in his reign against the gods and their worship, than
where the honor due to his person was attacked. Gregory, bishop of
Nazianzus, the old father of the celebrated Gregory, had allowed pub-
lic prayers to be offered in the church against the emperor, as a god-
less man. ‘The occasion of this, without much doubt, was, that the
governor of the province had sent soldiers to tear down the church;
but opposed by the firmness of the old man, who failed, indeed, to unite
to this quality the gentleness becoming the Christian and his own spirit-
ual office, they did not venture to make the attempt.2 The bishop
Maris, of Chalcedon, an old man almost blind, who had to be led about
by the hand, seeing the emperor offering a sacrifice in the temple of
Fortune at Constantinople, went in, and, hurried on by his over-pas-
sionate zeal, publicly called him a renegade and an infidel. Julian
1 See below, in the section concerning the however, that Julian wrote this letter to
constitution of the church. Antioch in an excited state of mind.
2 Julian, ep. 52. It should be remarked, 8 Gregor. Nazianz. orat. XIX. f. 308
60 GEORGIUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
forbore, it is true, from punishing such a violation of the duty of a sub-
ject, as he might justly have done: but he forgot, too, his own dignity,
by indulging in vulgar sarcasms after his usual way ; and, bantering the
old man on his blindness, said: ‘ Will not thy Galilean God, then, heal
thee too?” 1
It could not fail to be the case, however, that, even without any insti- .
gation from Julian, in those cities where there still existed a considerable
pagan party, and this party had not, till now, given loose to its pent-up
fury, and where they had been exasperated by the violent proceedings
of the bishops under the previous government, sanguinary tumults
would sometimes arise. Thus it happened at Alexandria, soon after
Julian’s accession to the throne. The bishop Georgius, a worldly man,
of a violent and headstrong temper, who had been thrust by an armed
force upon the community devoted to the bishop Athanasius, had ad-
ministered his office after the same manner with its commencement;
and by his persecuting spirit towards all who thought differently from
himself, by acting as a spy and an informer to the emperor Constan-
tius, by misusing his influence at court for the gratification of his own
passions, had made himself hateful to all parties except his own. He
had drawn upon himself the anger of the Pagans, by destroying splen-
did temples, by exposing the sanctuary of the Mithras worship to uni-
versal derision, and finally, because he had been heard to say to his
attendants, when passing by a temple at Tyche: ‘“‘ How much longer
shall this tomb stand?” Scarcely had Julian’s accession to the throne
become known at Alexandria, when the pagan populace seized upon
Georgius ; upon the knight Dracontius, director of the mint; and upon
a third, who had also rendered himself hateful to the Pagans; and threw
them into prison. After they had been kept in prison twenty-four days,
the multitude poured together again. All three were murdered; the
body of Georgius was carried through the city upon a camel, and, after
beg exposed to every indignity, was towards evening burnt.? Proba-
bly it was not Pagans alone who engaged in this riot: at all events,
the affair could never have been carried to such an extreme, if Georgius
had not made himself so universally hated. In consequence of these
riotous proceedings, Julian addressed to the Alexandrians one of his
declamatory rescripts, censuring their conduct in fnost emphatic lan-
guage ; but he punished no one. So, too, in other similar cases, the
emperor went no farther than words, which, however, were of little use,
especially as men were aware how much the emperor was pleased by
“any manifestation of zeal for the gods. He seems, in fact, in many
cases, to have approved rather than rebuked the outbreaks of popular
fury against those who had been guilty of destroying the temples, or
who were unwilling to rebuild the temples which had been destroyed.
1 This, Sozomen (V. 4) cites as a flying
story ; but many a bishop at that time might
venture to do this, and Julian’s conduct on
the occasion is not unlike him; so that the
story may perhaps be true.
2 Ammianus Marcellinus says of him,
(1. XXII. c.11:) Professionis sux oblitus,
que nihil nisi justum suadet et lene, ad
delatorum ausa feralia desciscebat.
8 Sozom. V.7. Ammian. Marcellin. XXII.
11, and the most accurate account in the
above-cited anonymous life of Athanasius
p- 68.
MARCUS OF ARETHUSA. JULIAN VISITS ANTIOCH. 61
Marcus, a bishop of Arethusa, on Mount Lebanon, had in the pre-
ceding reign drawn upon himself the hatred of the pagan inhabitants,
by causing the destruction of a magnificent temple, and by resorting
to forcible measures to make converts. According to the law which
Julian everywhere published,! he was, under these circumstances, bound
to make good the value of the temple in money, or else to cause it to be
rebuilt. Being in no condition to do the former, and thinking he could
not conscientiously do the latter ; fearing, at the same time, for his life,
amidst a ferocious populace, he betook himself to flight. As others,
however, were involved in danger on his account, he returned back,
and voluntarily offered himself to his enemies. The fanatical multitude
now fell upon him; he was dragged through the streets, treated with
every sort of abuse, and at last given up to be made sport of by un-
governed school-boys. When the old man had almost done breathing,
they besmeared him with honey and other liquids, laid him in a basket, |
in which he was swung up in the air, and left to be preyed upon by
bees and wasps. Marcus shamed his cruel enemies by the cool indif-
ference which he exhibited under all his sufferings; an indifference,
however, which seemed more that of the cynic than of the Christian.
The governor, himself a pagan, is said to have represented to Julian
what scandal it must occasion, if they allowed themselves to be outdone
by the constancy of a weak old man—and the emperor finally com-
manded him to be set free; for it was not his wish to give the Chris-
tians any martyrs.” .
As Julian was in the habit of appointing zealous pagans to the high
sacerdotal and civil offices, and as the latter were aware that nothing
would serve better to ingratiate them with the emperor than zeal for
the spread of Paganism; as they were incited by the double stimulus
of their own fanaticism, and of their wish to please the emperor; so it
was a matter of course that individual instances: of the oppression and _
persecution of Christians would easily happen, which might proceed
even to cruelty.
Julian became still more embittered against the Christians, in the
summer of 362, during his stay at Antioch. In this city, Christianity
had for a long time been the prevailing religion; insomuch that Liba-
nius remarked on the spot, that only a few old men remained who
were still familiar with the ancient pagan festivals, when Julian came
to the government.’ In this great capital of Asia, which, while main-
taining the form of Christianity, had become the seat of mingled orien-
tal and Roman splendor, licentiousness and corruption of manners,
Julian, the emperor, was resolved to affect the ancient simplicity, which
was wholly abhorrent to the prevailing manners, and in such a place
could only expose him to the jeers and sarcasms of the disaffected.
His zeal in the pagan worship, in which he would fain set an example
1 See above. 8 Liban. de vita sua, vol. I. p. 81. Liba-
2 See, above, the lettér of Libanius, who nius plays the rhetorician here perhaps only
confirms the asseverations of the Christian in this respect, that he represents what
authors, Sozomen, Socrates, Theodoretus, might be said of Antioch, as universally
and Gregory of Nazianzen. the case.
VOL. II. δ:
62 _ JULIAN’S VISIT TO ANTIOCH.
to his subjects, only made him ridiculous to the higher classes and
hated by the people, in this ancient Christian city. Frugal in his ex-
penses for the maintenance of his court, he spared no cost in offering
sacrifices of all kinds. He often slaughtered a hecatomb of cattle;
and it was his delight to bring the victims to the priests with his own
hands, followed by a train of old women, who still clung to Paganism...
Wherever an ancient temple was to be found on the mountains around
Antioch, Julian Aambered to the spot, however steep and rugged the
path, for the purpose of presenting an offering.
He was seen standing at the altar, under an open sky, though the
rain poured down in torrents, and all the others present sought pro-
tection under the roof of the temple, and although his attendants be-
sought him to pay some regard to his health.? The greater his zeal
for the pagan worship, the more confidently he had hoped that when
the heathen sanctuaries, which had so long been closed, were re-opened,
he should witness the same enthusiasm among the people at Antioch,
by which he was inspired himself; and the more painful it must have
been to him to find his expectations so completely disappointed. True,
multitudes of the people and of the higher classes assembled in the
temples and groves which he visited ; not, however, for the sake of the
gods, but for the purpose of seeing the emperor, and being seen by
him, as he himself must have known. He was saluted on these oce¢a-
sions with the loud shout of ‘‘ Long live the emperor!” just as if he
had made his appearance in the theatre. Hence he was led to address
to the people of Antioch an admonitory discourse, complaining that
they converted the temple into a theatre, to which they resorted rather
for his own sake than on account of the gods.3 Yet soon the voice of
praise, with which he had been received out of respect for his person,
was exchanged for that of mockery and disdain; for an injudicious
regulation, the object of which was to force a reduction of the
price of provisions to a degree disproportionate to the produce of the
year, and the result of which was directly the reverse of what had been
intended, made him hated both among the higher classes and the pop-
ulace, and his attempts to injure Christian sanctuaries alienated the
popular feeling; and he was obliged to hear men express their longing
for the return of the Kappa and the Chi, that is, of the reign of Con-
stantius and Christianity.*
One incident which made him extremely unpopular with the zealous
Christians, was this: In the grove of Daphne, about five miles from
‘ Antioch, but still reckoned as belonging to the suburbs of the city, stood
a famous temple of Apollo; and the fountain which flowed near by was
said to possess virtues which communicated the gift of divination.®
1 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XXII. c. 12, ff. ἐδόκει νεῶν ἔχον ἢ προτερόν ye ἐσχηκός.
Augebantur czrimoniarum ritus immo- Liban. Monodia in Julian. vol. 1. p. 513.
dice, cum impensarum amplitudine antehac 2 Liban. presbeut. Julian. vol. I. p. 476.
inusitata et gravi. The same writer relates, 3 Julian in Misopogon. p. 344. Liban. de
that, owing to the vast multitude of sacrifi- vita sua, p. 82.
cial banquets, rioting and drunkenness * Misopogon. 357.
were spread among the soldiers. Οὐδὲν 5 To which legend perhaps in this and in
οὕτω χαλεπὸν, οὐδὲ δύσβατον, ὃ μὴ λεῖον similar cases, the exhilarating and intoxi-
REVIVES THE WORSHIP OF APOLLO. 63
Hence an oracle of Apollo had sprung up on this spot. But, ever since
the times of the emperor Hadrian, this fountain had been neglected
and had gone to decay. With a view to suppress the old pagan cultus,
as well as to check the dissipation which the amenity of this spot, fa-
mous as the seat of vicious pleasures, invited, Gallus, when governor of
the province, had caused to be buried here the bones of the martyr
Babylas, and had erected a church for the use of those who wished to
atin their devotions at the tomb of the martyr. Julian caused the
ong-closed temple of Apollo to be re-opened, and surrounded it with a
new and magnificent peristyle. Setting great value upon soothsaying
of all kinds, he wished to restore also the ancient oracle, and directed
the fountain to be cleared out. ‘The priests now declared that the
oracle could not go into operation. The god would give no response,
on account of the vicinity of the dead ; besides, according to the pagan
notions, no dead body could be suffered to remain in contact with
the holy place. Julian construed this, as referring particularly to the
neighbouring bones of Babylas ; for the Christian worship among the
tombs, as he called it, was his special abomination, and above all,
in the present case, so near to the shrine of his own Apollo. He
caused the bones to be exhumated. Multitudes of Christians, young
and old, men and women, now assembled to bear away the bones of
the martyr, in solemn procession, to a place about forty stadia (five
miles) distant; and, through the whole of the way, they chanted choral
psalms, which alluded to the vanity of idolatry. The whole throng -
joined with one voice in the words: “ Confounded be all they that
serve graven images, and boast themselves in idols!” ! Julian, who
saw himself and his gods insulted at the same time, did not manifest
on this occasion the philosophical calmness which he was so fond of
exhibiting in other cases of a like nature. He commanded the prefect
Salustius to search out the guiltiest of those engaged in the tumult, .
and punish them severely. Salust, although a Pagan, yet from mo-
tives of humanity and prudence, reluctantly executed the command.
He caused a number of individuals to be seized, but subjected only
one, Theodorus, a young man, to torture. The latter continued firm
and unmoved, and in the midst of his sufferings sung the psalms which
the day before he had sung with the others in the procession.? Salust,
now reminded the emperor how much the cause of the Christians gained
by such constancy in their suffering companions. This led to the re-
lease of the young man and of all the rest.
When Julian, for the first time after so long a period, restored the
ancient feast of Apollo Daphnicus, he hoped that it would be cele-
brated by the inhabitants of Antioch with great display. But as he
Says in a sareastic defence of himself against the reproaches of the
cating influence of the exhalations of some he told him, that during all his sufferings
mineral spring had given occasion. he imagined he saw a young man standing
1 Ammian. Marcellin. 1, XXII. c. 12,13. by him, who wiped away his sweat, and
Sozom. v. 19. poured over him cold water. Rufin. vers.
2 The presbyter Rufinus, who knew him LEuseb. X. 36.
when an old man at Antioch, relates that 8 Sozom. V. 20.
64 4 JULIAN AT ANTIOCH.
people of Antioch: 1 ‘“ Not an individual brought oil to kindle a lamp
to the god; not one brought incense ; not one, a libation or a sacrifice.” 2
But one solitary priest appeared, bringing a goose for an offering.
The emperor was greatly astonished and excited at this result ; he se-
verely reprimanded the noble inhabitants of Antioch, who knew no bet-
ter how to appreciate the restoration of an ancient national festival; .
just as if his religion must. necessarily be theirs. He complains of
them in this writing, that they allowed their wives to carry away every
thing from the house for the support of the Galileans, or to bestow it
upon the poor; while they themselves were unwilling to expend the
smallest trifle to sustain the worship of the gods.3 "ea
It happened afterwards, that a fire broke out in this temple ; as it
was said, through the carelessness of Asclepiades, a pagan philosopher,
who had come on a visit to the pious, philosophical emperor. Asclep-
iades had left standing, with lighted tapers, before the statue of Apollo,
a small silver image of the Dea celestis, (Venus Urania,) which he
carried about with him to perform his devotions by, wherever he tray-
elled. But Julian attributed it to the revengeful spirit of the Chris-
tians ; and they were accused as the authors of the conflagration. He
directed torture to be employed, for the purpose of finding out the
guilty, and ordered the great church of Antioch to be closed, to show
his displeasure against the whole body of Christians. Although judi-
cial investigation could elicit no evidence against the Christians, yet
Julian did not give'up his suspicions. He complained, that the senate
of Antioch had not done all in their power to detect the guilty.2 The
people of Antioch feared the worst ;— as we see from the discourses
delivered or written in their defence by Libanius. Julian exhibited,
on several occasions, his excited state of feeling against the Christians.
He said himself, that, at a signal given by his own hand, the tombs of
the martyrs in the neighboring towns, together with the churches
erected over them, had been destroyed; and that the people had even
gone farther against the enemies of the gods, than he himself designed.®
Before leaving Antioch, he placed at the head of the judicial depart-
ment in Syria, a man of a passionate and naturally cruel disposition,
named Alexander. He is reported to have said, that Alexander was
not worthy of the office; but that the covetous and slanderous Antio-
chians deserved no better judge.’ It is evident from particular
instances of his conduct, that the administration of justice by this
Alexander corresponded entirely with the natural character of the man.
‘He took great pains to prevail on Christians to deny their faith. Many,
indeed, suffered themselves to be induced by promises, persuasions, and
threats, to sacrifice ; but the reproaches and tears of their wives, —
1 The Misopogon, in allusion to the jokes of religion; and that he considered the fe-
on the long beard of the emperor. males as the chief supporters of Christianity
2 Misopogon. p. 363. = in the families of such persons. See, below,
8 Misopogon. p. 363. This passage de- a like assertion of Libanius.
serves notice, inasmuch as we may see from 4 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XXII. ο. 13.
it, that Julian was well aware of the indif- 5 See Misopogon. p. 361.
ss}
ference entertained by many of the higher 6 Misopogon. p. 361.
class of the Antiochians towards the affairs 7 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. XXIII. c. 2
LIBANIUS TO THE ANTIOCHEANS, 65
among whom, at Antioch, there seems to have been more true piety
than among the men, — and the silence of night, suited to lead men to
the recesses of their own hearts, roused their conscience, and they re-
turned again to Christianity. This excited Alexander even to fury:
he not only persecuted these individuals, but asserted that they could
not have gone so far of themselves. He thought he could trace the
frustration of all his efforts to propagate the worship of the gods, to the
secret plots of a Christian. He was persuaded, by the enemies of a
certain Eusebius, to believe that the whole mischief proceeded from
him. This man was about to be thrown into prison and confined in
chains; but he succeeded in effecting his escape, and took refuge with
the pagan rhetorician Libanius, whose friendship he had gained by the
moderation and mildness of his conduct towards the Pagans under the
preceding reign. Libanius behaved in the same noble manner as he
was ever accustomed to do in like cases. He boldly rebuked Alexan-
der for his conduct, and assured him that he would not give up Euse-
bius.!
But, although Libanius did not wish to see men persecuted for the
sake of religion, yet he was gratified, when any, even though it might
be at first by mere external considerations, were brought back to the
worship of the gods. This is evident, from the manner in which he en-
deavors to take advantage of the dread of Julian’s anger, as a means
of persuading the noble Antiochians, that they had better restore the
worship of the gods, which, he said, was the only effectual and certain -
means of appeasing the emperor.”
1 Τῇ his letter to Alexander, (ep. 1057,) he
thus expresses himself: “It was my wish
that you might be zealous indeed for the
gods, and gain over many to their law; but
that you should not be surprised, however,
if many a one of those who have just offered,
should consider what he has done as a very
wicked thing, and praise again the refusing —
to offer. For, away from home, they follow
you when you advise them what is best, and
go to the altars. At home they are turned
about, and withdrawn from the altars by the
wife, by tears, and by the night. But as to
Ensebius, who is accused of having undone
again what was accomplished by your pains,
he is manifestly calumniated, and far from
that which has been laid to his charge ; for he
well understands the times, and acts uni-
formly with reflection rather than with fool-
hardiness : and, as he knows your wrath, he
would not, wefe he ever so foolish, thus
throw himself upon a sheaf of swords. But
he is not one of those ordinary men who easi-
ly change with the changes of the times; but,
as one who has busied himself with science,
and cultivated his mind, he was, even in the
time when he had the power, oppressive to
no one, and arrogant tonoone. One might
say he foresaw the future, so moderate was
he, It was this indeed which made the man
dear to me and to Nicocles (see above; I sup-
pose that, instead of ᾧ καὶ φιλὸν ἐποιῆσας,
VOL. II. 7
In this, doubtless, he was right ;
we should read ὁ καὶ φιλὸν exoinoev) ; for,
while he honored his own religion, he yet did
not annoy those who swore by the name of
Jupiter.” In like manner, Libanius warned
this Alexander, in ep. 1375, to take care lest,
by the way in which he proposed to help the
insulted gods, he might rather do them
injury. Probably letter 1346 also has a
similar reference.
2 In the discourse, περὶ τῆς τοῦ βασιλεῶς
ὀργὴς, which perhaps was only written and
not delivered (vol. I. p. 502:) “ Ye will ap-
pease the anger of the emperor,” says he to
the nobles of Antioch, “ by no petitions, no
clamor, no ambassadors, (even though you
sent your most talented orators,) unless
you desist from these tricks, and give up
your city to Jupiter and the other gods, —
about whom, long before the emperor, even —
from your childhood, Hesiod and Homer
have taught you. But you seck after the
honor of being cultivated, and call an ac-
quaintance with those poets, cultivation.
In respect to man’s highest interests, how-
ever, you follow other teachers (see above ;)
and you fly from the temples, which are once
more thrown open, when you ought to sigh
that they were ever closed. In the next
place, when the authority of a Plato and a
Pythagoras is appealed to in your presence,
you hold out on the other h that of your
mothers and wives, of your and cooks
Ν
pl
a
»
>
*
t
4
ey ®
4
* be bid ἔμ
ιν
JULIAN’S MARCH THROUGH SYRIA.
for when the town of Pessinus in Galatia, celebrated in earlier times
on ecu of the worship of Cybele, petitioned the emperor for assist-
ance, on some occasion or other, he replied that, if they wished to
enjoy his favor, they must first, by a general procession of penitence,
propitiate the mother of the gods, from whose worship they had fallen.
Wherever, in his march against the Persians, Julian passed through .
“ὦ speeches, though only a few followed his advice; indee
Ρ τῶ
A, 1
those who seemed already to have cherished sound views in religion,
but, until now, had been ashamed to express their convictions openly.
His pleasure was the greater, when, on the third day’s journey, he came
to a place? where the odor of incense breathed upon him from all
sides, and he everywhere beheld sacrifices publicly offered ; although he
could not avoid suspecting that these public exhibitions were intended
more for himself than for the gods.®
As the feelings of Julian against the Christians and against Christi-
anity were continually more and more exasperated by the opposition
which he experienced, it may be readily conjectured that, if he ha
returned back successfully from his Persian campaign, he would have
become a violent persecutor of the church. But in this war he
per-
ished, in the year 363; and at a single blow, the frail fabric erected
by mere human will, was dissolved ; although Julian, deceived by his
apparent success in making proselytes, had boasted of having produced,
~ in a short time, a wonderful change: for in a letter, in which, indeed,
he complained that the cause of Hellenism, through the fault of its
professors, did not yet progress according to his wishes, he had asserted
that the friends of the gods ought to be satisfied ; for who, a short time
_ before, would have ventured to predict that so great and so important
a change could be produced in so
ief a period ? 4
Had the Christians searched after the real cause of this transient vic-
re,
and the tenacity of your early convictions ;
thus allowing yourselves to be led by those
whom you ought to lead.” A great deal in
his description of nominal Christians among
the fashionable people of the higher ranks,
who were held to Christianity by the force
of custom and the influence of their domestic
_ associations, is doubtless taken from the real
life. He concludes thus: “Shall we not
hasten to the temples, persuading some, and
forcing the rest to follow us ?”
1 Julian. ep. 49. ξ
2 Βατναι.
3 See Julian’s letter to Libanius, describ-
ing his journey (ep. 27.) Sozomen (VI. 1)
reports, that Julian, in a menacing letter,
summoned Arsaces, king of Armenia, who
was a Christian, to arm himself for the war
against the Persians; that he announced to
him, the God whom he worshipped would
_ not be able to help him; that this letter con-
ΦΩ͂
Ὗ
ἂν alain ὦ
* ~~ Ξ ‘>
ke ς
ws
tained blasphemies against Christ. Mura-
tori has published this letter in the anecdot.
Gree. Patay. (see above,) p. 334. All the
boastful language, perhaps in imitation of
the oriental taste, which Sozomen refers to,
is found in it; nothing, however, which would
seem expressly pointed against Christ. Yet,
when Julian says to the king, “ You seek to
keep concealed with you an enemy of the
public weal,” Sozomen, perhaps with reason,
may have supposed this referred to Christ.
At all events, in the threat expressed against
the city Nisibis, which should share that
misfortune of king Arsaces the gods had
long since predicted against him, we per-
ceive the hatred he entertained against this
city, which for many years had been
zealously Christian.
4 Ep. 49. Τίς γὰρ ἐν ὀλίγῳ τοσαύτην καὶ
τηλικαύτην μεταβολὴν ὀλίγῳ πρότερον ἐτόλμᾳ;
,
"4
LIAN’S DEATH. JOVIAN. 67
Pree Sg ‘
. ὦ ;
in ὦ ws i .
tory of the heathen party, they might have derived from it many im-
portant lessons for the future. In the beginning of Julian’s reign, the
wise Gregory of Nazianzen, contemplating those evils within the church,
without which even this transient ascendency of Paganism could hardly
. have been gained, had expressed the great truth, that the Christian
church had still more to fear from its enemies within than from those
without.1_ The same father exhorted the Christians, after the death of
of rest ; for so it would appear, if then they were humble and moderate,
and pointed all their hopes to heaven; but now proud and haughty,
ready to fall back again into the same sins whichilought them into all |
their misfortunes.” He then gave the Christians the advice to which
he was conscious that he should find the most difficulty in making them |
listen. He advised them to take no advantage of the power which ~
they obtained through the change of the times, in retaliating upon the
Pagans the injuries which they had received. ‘ Let us show,’’ says he,
‘‘ what a difference there is between what these men learn from their
gods, and the lessons which Christ teaches us, — Christ, who, glorified
through sufferings, obtained the victory by forbearing to use his power. __
Let us pay God our united thanks ; let us, by long suffering, promote
the spread of the gospel; for this, let us take advantage of the times.
Let us by gentleness subdue our oppressors.” 2°
The Pagans now saw all their brilliant hopes destroyed ; and in their
faith they found nothing to console them. Libanius says he supposed
that the emperor, who had rebuilt the temples and altars ; who had for-
gotten no god and no goddess, and sacrificed upon the altars whole ἡ
herds of oxen and lambs; who had called forth troops of priests from —
their hiding places, would need no mighty armed force, but must con- —
quer through the power of the gods.3 Now he quarrelled with his
gods, because they had permitted Constantius to reign forty years, but ὁ
Julian only for so short a period, and then, with him, suffered his who
work to fall to the ground.* ae
Julian was immediately succeeded by Jovianus, an emperor ἢ. pro-
fessed Christianity. He had learned from the preceding times the lesson, _
that religion could not be helped by outward force. Hence, although ©
for his own part a zealous Christian, yet he left to all his subjects the
liberty of exercising the religion which they preferred, — a principle
which he expressed in one of the laws published on his accession to the ~
1 Gregor. Nazianz. orat. I. p. 35. with this is the spirit of Augustin, when he
2 Gregor. Nazianz. Aoy. στηλιτευτ. II. orat. says, “that no emperor should be a Chris-
IV. f. 130, 131. tian in order to procure for himself the
8 Monod in Julian. T. 1.508. He had fortune of Constantine, — as each should be
actually prophesied that the gods themselves a Christian for the sake of eternal life. God |
would smite the Persians. Ep. 649. took away Jovian sooner.than he did
41,. Ο. p.510. How strongly contrasted Julian.” De civitate Dei, 1. V.c¢. 25. — x ὡ a
A ' Ἂς
x
68
throne.
JOVIAN.
~~
.
He permitted the temple-worship and the sacrifices to go on
unmolested ; and expressly prohibited nothing, except employing the
pagan rites for the purposes of magic.!
Golden words were those which the moderate Pagan Themistius ad-
dressed to Jovian, on his entrance upon the consular office, with a view
to confirm him in those principles recognizing man’s universal rights,
and the toleration in matters of religion connected therewith, which he
had expressed immediately after coming to the throne.
Having con-
atulated the emperor, that the first law of his reign related to reli-
gion, he says: ‘** You alone seem to be aware, that the monarch cannot
force everything from his subjects; that there are things which are
superior to all constraint, threatenings, and laws; as, for instance,
1 That Jovian enacted a law of this import
can hardly be doubted, — judging from what
Themistius said to him at the consular cele-
bration. We must admit that the accounts
of persecutions against the Pagans, and of
measures for the suppression of Paganism,
under the reign of this emperor, seem to con-
flict with this supposition ; as, for example,
when Libanius, in his epitaph, in Julian, p.
619, says, that after Julian’s death, those
who spoke openly against the gods, once
more stood in authority, but the priests were
unjustifiably called to an account. An in-
demnification was demanded for the money
expended in sacrifices. The rich anticipated
a judicial investigation, and paid the money
down ; the poor were thrown in chains.
(We may conjecture that the writer is here
speaking of those who were accused of hay-
ing expended money which did not belong
to them, — whether taken from the public
coffer or from elsewhere, —for the offering
of sacrifices.) The temples, he continues,
were in part demolished, and in part stood
unfinished, — objects of mockery and sport
to the Christians, The philosophers (i.e.
all those who, in the time of Julian, had
appeared in the philosopher’s cloak, and
thereby acquired specially great influence
with him) were abused. All who had re-
ceived presents from the emperor Julian,
were accused of theft, and subjected to every
sort of torment, in order to extort from them
the money they were supposed to have re-
ceived. In respect to this report of Liba-
nius, what he says as a passionate opponent
of the emperor, and with rhetorical exag-
geration, cannot be received as altogether
credible. It may have been the case that
many Pagans, believing that the end sanc-
tioned the means,stimulated by zeal for their
religion, or making this a mere pretence
and out of sheer cupidity, had allowed them-
selves, under the preceding reign, in practi-
ces which might in some measure give just
occasion for judicial investigations against
the Heathens. But it also may have been
the case, that indemnification was unjustly
required for that which had been done in a
perfectly legal manner, and in compliance
with supreme imperial authority, — just as
Julian had proceeded in respect to what had
been done under his predecessor. And finally,
it would be wrong to suppose that every
thing which Christian governors, or those
that used Christianity as a pretext, under
an emperor who appeared zealous for Chris-
tianity thought themselves entitled to do,
without being authorized by his laws, ought
to be laid to his charge. Jovian himself
showed respect to Maximus and Priscus, —
the two philosophers who possessed the
highest influence under the emperor Julian,
and the former of whom had labored ear-
nestly for the support of Paganism. See
Eunap. vita Maximi, p. 58. But yet, with-
out some occasion given by the emperor, it
could not happen that pagan philosophers
should be persecuted. ‘This, in fact, is inti-
mated by Themistius, although he absolves
the emperor from the charge of having him-
self had any hand in it, — ad Valentem, de
bello victis, ed. Harduin, f. 99, c. Socrates
(1. IIL. c. 24) says that, under Jovian, all the
temples were immediately closed; that the
Pagans concealed themselves ; that the phi-
losophers laid aside their cloaks; that the
public sacrifices ceased. All this, although
not taken in so general a sense, may have
been true,—as a natural consequence of
the fears entertained by the Pagans, or
of their lukewarmness entering of its own
accord, when the atmosphere of the court
ceased to be favorable to Paganism. Soc-
rates himself seems to be aware that Jovian
was not disposed to oppress any party.
L. Ill. ὁ. 25, ete. What Sozomen says,
(1. VI. ¢. 3,) respecting a letter of the em-
peror addressed to all the governors, may
be understood — supposing it to be correct —
as only meaning that Jovian expressed a
wish to have all his subjects come to the
knowledge of the truth in Christianity, and
distinguished the Christian church once
more by peculiar privileges. Libanius him-
self (orat. pro templis, vol. II. p. 163) says
that, after Julian’s death down to the time of
Valens, μένει τινὰ τ᾽ ϑύειν ἱερεῖα χρόνον
ΕἾ ν)
Γ
VALENTINIAN. 69
virtue generally, and, in particular, piety towards God. And you have
very wisely considered, that in all these matters, unless there is hypoc-
risy, the unconstrained and absolutely free will of the soul must move
first. For if it is not possible, emperor, by any new edicts to make a
man well disposed towards you, if he is not so at heart; how much less
is it possible, by the fear of human edicts, by transient constraint, and
those weak images of terror which the times have often produced, and
as often annihilated, to make men truly pious, and lovers of God? We
play, in such cases often, the ridiculous part of serving, not God, but the
purple ; and change our religion more easily than the sea is moved by
the storm. ‘There used to be but one Theramenes; but now all are
fickle-minded.!_ He who but yesterday was one of the ten (deputies of
the Athenians to the Lacedemonians) is to-day one of the thirty
(tyrants.) The man who yesterday stood by the altars, the sacrifices,
and the images, stands to-day by the holy tables of the Christians. Yet
this, O emperor! is not what you desire. While you would now and
ever be sovereign as to everything else, you command that religion
should be left to the free choice of each individual. And in this, you
follow the example of the Deity, who has implanted the capacity for
religion in the whole human nature, but has left the particular kind of
worship to the will of each man. But whoever employs force here,
takes away the freedom which God has bestowed on every man. For
this reason, the laws of a Cheops and of a Cambyses hardly lasted as
long as their authors’ lives. But the law of God, and your law, re-
mains for ever unchangeable, — the law, that every man’s soul is free in
reference to its own peculiar mode of worship. ‘This law, no pillage
of goods, no death on the cross or at the stake, has ever been able to
extinguish. You may, indeed, force and kill the body; but, though the
tongue may be forced to silence, the soul will rise, and carry along with
it its own will, free from the constraint of authority.”
The same principles, in regard to matters of religion, were followed.
by Valentinian, who succeeded Jovian in the year 364. As Valenti-
nian, by his steadfast profession of Christianity, had incurred the dis-
pleasure of the emperor Julian ;? as he hated Julian and his friends ;
as he was, in other respects, inclined to despotism; it is the more re-
markable that he still recognized on this pomt the limits of human
power, and perceived the folly and ruinous consequences of attempting
to overstep them.? Dy laws which he issued at the very commencement
of his reign, he allowed each of his subjects unlimited freedom of exer-
cising the religion which he conceived to be true. By another law
of the year of 371, he expressly declares that neither the practice of
1 Nov ἁπάντες κοϑόρνοι.
2 The thing itself admits of no doubt,
since pagan and Christian historians here
agree. The only question relates to the
particulars, which are stated in many vari-
ous ways.
3 Ammianus Marcellinus, who frankly
describes the despotic acts of this emperor,
says of him,]l. XXX. ς, 9:— “ Postremo
hoc moderamine principatus inclaruit, quod
inter religionum diversitates medius stetit,
nec quemquam inquietavit, neque ut hoc
coleretur imperavit aut illud, nec interdictis
minacibus subjectorum cervicem ad id quod
ipse coluit inclinabat, sed intemeratas re-
liquit has partes, ut reperit.” 3)
4 Unicuique, quod animo imbibisset, co
lendi libera facultas. This law is cited in a
law of the emperor belonging to the year
371. Cod. Theod. 1. IX. Tit. 16.1.9
10 VALENS. GRATIAN.
the haruspices, nor any other form of worship permitted by the fathers,
should be forbidden.1
This toleration of Valentinian was rather helpful, than injurious, to
the spread of Christianity. This appears from the fact, that under the
reign of this emperor, Heathenism began first to be called by the name
of the peasants’ religion (Paganismus :2) just as, in the primitive times,
Christianity was considered as the religion of shoemakers, weavers, and
slaves. ‘To be sure, we are not to conclude, because Heathenism was
called distinctively the religion of the ignorant countrymen, that it had
lost all its followers among the educated and higher classes. —
In the East, the political suspicions of the emperor Valens brought
many a persecution upon those Pagans who practised divination and
sorcery,® although the same tolerant laws were recognized also in the
East. The pagan rhetorician, Themistius, addressed the emperor
Valens in terms very similar to those which he had used before
Jovian, extolling these principles of toleration. According to the
testimony of Libanius, Valentinian and Valens were finally moved, by
the political jealousies growing out of the frequent conspiracies, to for-
bid entirely all bloody sacrifices ; though the other kinds of heathen
worship continued to be permitted;° yet no such law of these empe-
rors has come down to us.®
The emperor Gratian, who succeeded his father in the year 376,
had not, like the latter, adopted it as an absolute principle, to alter
nothing pertaining to the relifious condition of his empire ; but still he
adhered to the rule of allowing a free exercise of the pagan rites. So
accustomed were men to consider the pagan religion as the religion of
the state, and the emperors as its chiefs, that even the Christian empe-
1 He gave this direction, perhaps, expressly
because a law which he had enacted against
the nocturna sacrificia and pagan magic,
might be misinterpreted ; and even that first
law, in consequence of the remonstrances
of an influential pagan statesman, did not
go into general execution, — if Zosimus
(IV. 3) speaks the truth.
2 The name religio Paganorum, applied
to Heathenism, first occurs in a law of the
emperor Valentinian, of the year 368. Cod.
Theodos. 1. XVI. Tit. II. 1.18. The above
derivation of the name is, however, the only
tenable one, and is moreover confirmed by
the testimony of Paulus Orosius. This
writer, in the preface to his short history of
the world, says, — Qui ex locorum agres-
tium compitis et pagis Pagani vocantur.
To this derivation the Christian poet Pru-
dentius also alludes, when (contra Sym-
machum, 1. I. v. 620) he calls the Heathens
“ pago implicitos.”
3 Liban, de vita sua, p. 113, vol. I. Chrys-
ostom. hom. 38, in act. apost. fin.
4 Orat. VI. de religionibus, which hitherto
has been known to us only in a Latin transla-
tion. Socrates (LV. 32) and Sozomen (VI.
36) cite a discourse of similar import, which
Themistius is said to have delivered before
Valens, dissuading him from the persecu-
tion of Christians entertaining other opinions
in the time of the Arian controversies. If
we must suppose that this refers to the dis-
course above cited, it could not be correct;
for that discourse manifestly treats of tolera-
tion only to Paganism. But both those
authors, however, quote distinct expressions
of Themistius, which are not to be found in
that discourse. Although they quote many
other thoughts which do actually occur in
it, yet this is no proof that they have in view
the same performance; since, in the dis-
course also which was delivered before Jo-
vian, a good deal is expressed in precisely the
same way as in the oration before Valens.
It is therefore more probable that Themis-
tius actually delivered a discourse of this
sort, of which, however, nothing has come
down to our times.
5 Orat. pro templis, p. 163.
ὁ Τὸ may be possible that Libanius did not
in this case duly separate the affairs of the
East and of the West; yet he was doubtless
interested in that discourse to bring together
everything which could be found, in the
ordinances of the earlier emperors, favor
able to Paganism.
ἰὼ
ΘΒΑΤΙΑΝ. 71
rors still retained the title of supreme pontiffs, and, on ascending the
throne, received along with the other badges of the imperial dignity,
the robe of the supreme pontiff; but it had now become a mere
formality.
Gratian is said to have been the first who declined to receive this
robe, because he could not conscientiously do it as a Christian ;1 yet
he still retained the title.2 Moreover, in the place where the Roman
senate met, there stood an altar dedicated to Victory, at which the pa-
gan senators were accustomed to take their oaths, and upon which they
scattered incense and made offerings. It had been first removed by
Constantius, and afterwards replaced by Julian. Jovian and Valentinian
had made no alteration, allowing things to remain as they were ; but
Gratian caused the altar to be removed again. He confiscated estates
belonging to the temples. He deprived the priests and vestals of the
support they had received from the public treasury, and of all their
other privileges.? He took away also from the college of priests the
right of receiving legacies of real estate. All this took place in the
year 382. Asa considerable number of Pagans were then still to be
found in the Roman senate, it being generally the case that the first
and oldest families in Rome adhered to the old Roman religion, along
with all the other old Roman customs; they chose a man out of their
number, distinguished for his personal merits, Quintus Aurelius Sym-
machus, as their delegate, to procure from the emperor, in the name of
the senate, the abrogation of these laws. But the Christian party
of the senate, who claimed to be the majority,* transmitted, through the
Roman bishop Damasus, a memorial to the emperor, complaining of this
proceeding on the part of the Heathens. Ambrose, bishop of Milan,
who possessed great influence with Gratian, presented him with this
petition; and Gratian was so indignant at the demands of the pagan
party, as to refuse even to grant an audience to their delegate.2 As
Rome was visited, in the following year, 383, by a great famine, the.
zealous Pagans looked upon this as a punishment sent by the gods, on
account of the wrong done to their religion.®
1 Zosim. 1. IV. ο. 36. peror, had brought this about; because they
2 Thus, for example, Ausonuus gives it to
him, in his gratiarum actio pro consulatu,
where he styles him “ pontifex religione ;”
and he bears it in inscriptions. See Inscrip-
tionum latinarum amplissima collectio, ed.
Orelli, vol. I. p. 245.
8 See the reports of Symmachus aud Am-
brosius to Valentinian II. directly to be
quoted, and the edict of Honorius, of the
year 415. Cod. Theodos. 1. XVI. Tit. X.
1. 20. Omnia loco, que sacris error ve-
terum deputavit, secundum 7). Gratiani con-
stituta nostree rei jubemus sociari.
* Having here nothing but the reports of
parties, we cannot determine with certainty
as to that which was formally right in the
case.
5 Evil-minded men, says Symmachus in
his memorial to the successors of this em-
r.
well knew that, if the emperor heard the
deputies, he would not refuse them justice.
Denegata est ab improbis audientia, quia non
erat justitia defutura.
ὁ Symmachus writes, in his great ex-
tremity, to his brother, with a certain simple
piety, which, with all his superstition, yet
renders him far more worthy of respect, than
those were who embraced Christianity to
honor the emperor: Dii patrii! facite
gratiam neglectorum sacrorum! Miseram
famem pellite. Quamprimum revocet urbs
nostra, quos invita dimisit (this is ambig-
uous, and may refer either to the strangers
banished from Rome, with a view to spare
the means of subsistence, or to the gods.)
Quicquid humana ope majus est, Diis per-
mitte curandum. Symmach. epistole, 1. IL
ep. 7.
TZ VALENTINIAN II.
When the young Valentinian II. succeeded his brother Gratian in the
government, the pagan party of the senate attempted once more, (in
the year 384,) through the instrumentality of Symmachus, at that time
prefect of the city, to obtam from the emperor a compliance with their
demands. He asks of the emperor, that he would distinguish his own
private religion from the religio urbis. Taking his stand at the position
of Paganism, he explains that men would do better, inasmuch as they -
are excluded from the knowledge of divine things,’ to abide by, and
to follow, the authority of antiquity ; in doing which, their fathers, for
so many centuries, had experienced so much prosperity. Rome is per-
sonified, and made to address the emperor in the following language:
“(1 wish, as I am free, to live after my own manner. ‘These rites of
worship have subjected the whole world to my laws.” The famine of
the preceding year, he represented as following in consequence of the
wrong done to the pagan rites. ‘What was there,” he says, ‘like
this, which our fathers were ever compelled to suffer, when the minis-
ters of religion enjoyed the honor of a public maintenance?” As
Symmachus was well aware that the Christians would have the em-
peror make it a matter of conscience to refuse all support to the idol-
atrous worship, he endeavored to quiet his scruples on this point, by
the distinction, already alluded to, between the religio urbis and the
religio imperatoris. If he did but suffer that to remain which the city
(urbs) could demand by ancient right, he would, by so doing, concede
no privilege to a religion which was not his own.”
But Ambrose, bishop of Milan, on hearing of this, sent to the young
emperor Valentinian, a letter written with dignified earnestness. He
represented, that this compliance on the part of the emperor would be
a sanction of Paganism, and a tacit denial of his own Christian convic-
tions. The emperor ought to allow liberty of conscience to every one
of his subjects ; but he must also maintain the freedom of his own con-
science. ‘‘ Wrong is done no man,” he writes, “‘ when the Almighty
God is preferred before him. ‘To him belong your convictions. You
force no one yourself to worship God against his own will; let the same
right be conceded also to yourself. But if some nominal Christians
advise you to such a decision, do not suffer yourself to be deceived by
mere names.? He who advises this, and he who decrees this, sacri-
fices. We, bishops, could not quietly tolerate this. You might come
to the church, but you would find there no priest; or a priest who
would forbid your approach. What would you have to reply to the
priest, when he says, the church wants not your gifts, smce you have
honored with presents the temples of the Heathen? ‘The altar of
Christ disdains your offerings, since you have erected an altar to idols;
for your word, your hand, your signature, are your works. ‘The Lord
wishes not for your service, smce you have become the servant of idols;
1 Cum ratio omnis in operto sit. political interest might be of greater ac-
2 Symmach. |. X. ep. 61. count than the religious. There were sever-
8 Ambrosius was afraid, as it seems, of al members of the emperor’s privy council,
several of the members of the emperor's also, who were Pagans. See Ambros. ep
privy council, of the consistory,to whom the 57, ad Eugen. § 3.
THEODOSIUS. 73
for he has said to you: ‘ Ye cannot serve two masters.’’”?! The strong
representations of Ambrose had their effect, and Valentinian rejected
the petition.
In the beginning of the reign of the emperor Theodosius, Chrysos-
tom composed at Antioch his noble discourse on the martyr Babylas,?
in which he described the divine power wherewith Christianity had
penetrated into the life of humanity, and obtained the victory over
Heathenism. He rightly maintained, that Christianity disdained in
this warfare all weapons which were not her own; and he predicted
the entire destruction of Paganism, which was crumbling in ruins
through its own nothingness. He says: “Jt is not permitted the
Christians to destroy error by violence and constraint: they are allowed
to labor for the salvation of men only by persuasion, by rational instrue-
tion and by acts of love.®”” He affirms that zeal for Paganism was
still to be seen only in a few cities; and that in these the pagan wor-
ship was promoted by the respectable and wealthy citizens, who allowed
the poor to join them in their heathen and sensual festivities, and thus
chained them to their interests. Chrysostom was assuredly right in
this, that men might rely upon the divine power of the gospel, which
would carry the work, hitherto so successful, completely to its end:
but so thought not the emperors.
Theodosius, the reigning emperor in the East, but whose influence
extended also to the West, went in his proceedings against Paganism
gradually farther in the way struck out by Gratian. At first he was
content to abide by those measures against the sacrifices which had
already been adopted by him in common with Gratian. Properly
speaking, indeed, the employment of sacrifices, for the purposes of
magic and soothsaying, alone had been forbidden; and even by the
new law which Theodosius gave, in the year 385, to the preetorian pre-
fect Cynegius, a man extremely zealous for the extinction of Paganism,
soothsaying from the sacrifices only was prohibited; yet these laws
were, in their execution, certainly applied, for the most part, to all the
forms of sacrificial worship; as appears from the plea of Libanius in
defence of the temples —a discourse shortly after to be more particu-
larly noticed, in which the writer, however, drew arguments from every
quarter, to limit, as far as possible, the meaning of the existing laws
against Paganism. Undoubtedly an exception was made in favor of
those capital towns where Paganism still had a considerable party,
and in favor of the more noble families; since Libanius could appeal
to the fact, before the emperor Theodosius, that the sacrificial worship
still existed at Rome and Alexandria.‘
matter then stood, would certainly make
1 For the rest, the question whether the
emperor was obligated to grant this, and
whether he could grant it with a good con-
science, admits not of being answered from
the purely religious point of view: the con-
sideration of civil rights also enters in here,
which Symmachus doubtless alluded to, but
at the same time confounded too much with
the religious question, and which, as the
VOL. 11.
the decision more favorable to Ambrosius
than to Symmachus. :
2 Eic¢ τὸν μάρτυρα Βαβύλαν λόγος δεύτερος.
8 Οὐδὲ γὰρ ϑέμις χριστιανοῖς ἀνάγκῃ καὶ
βίᾳ καταστρέφειν τὴν πλάνην, ἀλλὰ καὶ πειϑοῖ
καὶ λόγῳ καὶ προσηνείᾳ τὴν τῶν ἀνϑρώπων
ἐργάζεσϑαι σωτηρίαν.
4 Oratio pro templis, vol. 11. p. 180 et seq.
74 THEODOSIUS.
Now, these laws might easily furnish a pretext for the destruction of
the temples. The Pagans were found assembled in the temples, for
the purpose of sacrificing, or they were accused of having sacrificed.
Blind zealots, or those whose avarice prompted them to wish for the
plunder of the temples, immediately seized upon this circumstance as a
lawful reason for destroying them, pretending that they had caused the
imperial laws to be broken. The wild troops of monks, to whom any ᾿
object which, under the name of religion, excited their passions, was
welcome, undertook, especially in the country, these campaigns for the
destruction of temples in which sacrifices were alleged to have been
performed.t As the synagogues of the Jews, whose worship was pro-
tected by the laws of the state,” were not secure against the fanatical
fury of blind zealots and the avarice of men who used religion as a
pretext; so the temples of the Pagans, against which they might act
under some show of legal authority, must have been much more exposed
to danger. In countries where the Pagans still constituted the major-
ity, they returned the Christians like for ike, and burnt the churches,
as at Gaza and Askelon in Palestine, and at Berytus in Phoenicia.*
The emperor himself declared at first against those who were for turn-
ing the laws which forbade sacrificial worship into a means for wholly
suppressing the worship of the temples.*
When the temple-destroying fury was now increasing and spreading
on all sides, the Pagans could not but fear that the emperor would
gradually go further. Libanius addressed to him his remarkable plea
in defence of the temples. The immediate occasion of it seems to
have been the destruction of a very magnificent ancient temple, on the
borders of the Roman empire, towards Persia.® In this discourse he
1 What Libanius (p. 164) says of this de-
struction of the temples by the monks (the
μελαναιμονοῦντες) may, compared with what
we otherwise know respecting the way of a
part of these people, doubtless be received
as true. Godofredus, meanwhile, has as-
suredly misconceived this passage, (p. 170,)
when, by σωφρονισταῖς, he understands here
those whose duty it was to see to the execu-
tion of the imperial laws on this point. Li-
banius evidently means to say that the
monks had, upon their own authority, thrust
themselves in as σωφρονισταῖς.
2. Secta nulla lege prohibita; see the law
of the emperor Theodosius, in the year 393,
cited below.
_ %See Ambros. ep. ad Theodos. 1. V. ep.
29.
4 By a law of the year 382, he ordered that
the temple at Edessa, in which statues were
to be found, deserving of estimation more
on account of their artistic than of their re-
ligious worth, (artis pretio quam divinitate
metienda,) should always stand open. The
emperor was no doubt inclined, in cases
where such violences were committed, to
exercise justice, when his purpose was not
counteracted by the powerful influence of
the bishops. ‘Thus, upon the report of the
Comes orientis, in the year 388, he was in
fact on the point of punishing the monks,
who had destroyed a temple of the Valen-
tinians near the castle of Callinicum in
Mesopotamia, and to oblige the bishop, who
by his discourses had stirred up the people
there to demolish a Jewish synagogue, to
cause it to be rebuilt; but the declamations
of Ambrose, bishop of Milan, led him to
change his mind. See Ambros. ep. 40 ad
Theodos. ep. 42 ad sororem. Paulin. vit.
Ambros. Still, in the year 393, he issued to
this part of Asia a law, that those, qui sub
Christian religionis nomine illicita quaeque
presumunt, et destruere synagogas atque
exspoliare conantur, should be punished
congrua severitate. Cod. Theodos. 1. XVI.
Titer VLPs 1.9.
5 Comparing the above-cited law of Theo-
dosius with the description which Libanius
gives of the magnificence of this temple, we
might suppose that the temple at Edessa
was here meant. The connection of events
may be conceived to be as follows: — that
Theodosius at some earlier period had been
persuaded to approve of the shutting-up of
the temple, but had been afterwards induced
by the representations of the heathen party
to pass the ordinances already cited in favor
THEODOSIUS. 75
calls to his aid all the political and all the religious reasons which he
could possibly find, in defence of the temples. Together with much
that is sophistical and declamatory, he made also many excellent re-
marks. Among these belongs what he says to refute the argument
for the destruction of the temples, that Paganism, by being deprived of
these, would lose the chief means of its support among the people; that
the people would now visit the churches instead of the temples, and
thus by degrees be led to embrace Christianity. ‘* That is,’”’ says he,
“they would not embrace another kind of worship, but hypocritically
pretend to embrace it. They would join, it is true, in the assemblies
with the rest, and do everything like the others; but when they as-
sumed the posture of prayer, it would be either to invoke no one, or
else the gods.”” In the next place, he very justly appeals to the
Christian doctrine itself: 1 ‘ Force is said not to be permitted, even ac-
‘cording to the laws of your own religion; persuasion is said to be
praised, but foree condemned by them. Why, then, do you reek your
fury against the temples, when this surely is not to persuade,” but to
use force ? Thus, then, it is plain you would transgress even the laws
of your own religion.’ Ἴ
Many Pagans being still to be found in high civil offices, a fact
which Libanius refers to in the above-mentioned discourse as showing
the favorable disposition of the emperor towards this party ;* the im-
perial commands, of course, were still very far from being carried into
rigid execution ; and this experience led again to new authoritative
measures.
We are by no means to suppose, however, that in these matters
Theodosius always acted after the same consistert plan. On the con-
trary, he might at one and the same time publish ordinances of an op-
posite character, according as he allowed himself to be influenced,
either by those members of his privy council, (the consistorium impera-
toris,) who, if they were not themselves Pagans, yet were governed far
more by the political than the religious interest, or by the exhortations
of the bishops. In the year 384 or 886,° he directed the preetorian
of the temple. But it having been reported
to him by a governor in these districts, —
(the Dix Osrhoénz,) who (if Libanius does
not misrepresent) was led on by his wife, as
she was by the monks, — that the devotional
exercises in the neighboring cloisters were
disturbed by the fumes of the sacrifices dif-
fused abroad from the temple, the emperor
finally was prevailed upon to allow it to be
destroyed. (The supposition, however, that
this governor was the Prefectus Prezetorio
Cynegius, as well as the fixing of the chrono-
logical date by Godofredus on the assuinp-
tion of this fact, is one which has not been
duly proved.) Meanwhile this hypothesis
is still not altogether certain; for there may
have been many magnificent temples on the
borders of Syria, as, for example, at Pal-
myra.
1 Page 179.
2 Instead of εἰ τὸ, the reading, as it seems
to me, should be εἰ τοῦτο.
8 What Libanius elsewhere says in this
discourse, so recklessly to the advantage of
Paganism and in praise of Julian, is of a
sort which he could hardly have ventured
to utter before the emperor. We may con-
jecture that this discourse was delivered or
written only as a specimen of rhetorical art.
41. ¢. p. 293.
5 The question comes up, whether Cyne-
gius received this commission when he was
appointed Preefectus Prietorio, or not till
afterwards. The accurate determination of
the chronological date is attended in this
case with many difficulties. See Tillemont,
hist. des empereurs Romains, Theodose,
N. 15. We must either suppose that the
historians have given too wide an extension
to the commission entrusted to Cynegius
76 THEODOSIUS.
prefect Cynegius, well known on account of his zeal for the spread of
Christianity, to shut up all the temples, and make an end of the entire
temple worship in the Hast (that is, in the eastern part of the Roman
empire and in Egypt.) And yet a law of the emperor, published
about the middle of June, 386, presupposes the toleration of the tem-
ple worship, and the recognisance of the college of priests.”
After the suppression of the public pagan worship, by the commis-
sion given to Cynegius, had been effected, so far as that was possible,
certain events occurred, which led to the adoption of still more decisive
measures. ‘he first occasion was given to these events by Theophilus,
bishop of Alexandria, a man of an altogether worldly spirit, who had
little or no hearty interest in the cause of Christ, and whose manner
of administering the episcopal office was least of all calculated to exert
a good influence in building up the temple of the Lord in the hearts of
men. This bishop, who was much more interested in erecting large
and splendid edifices than in the spiritual welfare of his flock, had, in
the year 389, obtained from the emperor the gift of a temple of Bac-
chus, and was busily employed in converting it into a Christian church.
The symbols of the worship of Bacchus which were found here, and
many of which were offensive to the sense of decency and good morals,
he ordered to be carried in a procession through the streets, and pub-
licly exposed, so as to bring the Grecian mysteries into universal con-
tempt. Since Alexandria was considered as a central poimt of the
Hellenic religion, a principal seat of the mystical Neo-Platonic Heath-
enism, where its votaries poured together from all countries of the
Roman empire,* and since the Alexandrian Pagans were from the
most ancient times extremely fanatical; such a transaction could not
fail to occasion the most violent excitement. The exasperated Pagans
assembled in crowds ; they made a furious onset upon the Christians,
wounded and killed many of them, and then retired to the colossal and
splendid temple of Serapis, situated upon a hill, which was ranked
among the greatest pagan sanctuaries in these times.® Here, under
the direction of a certain Olympius, a fanatical Pagan, who went clad
in the philosopher’s cloak, they formed a regular camp. This man
exhorted them to sacrifice even their lives for the sanctuaries of their
fathers. From their strong-hold, they sallied out upon the Christians :
those who were dragged away by them as prisoners, they endeavored
and that it concerned only Exypt, where the
influence of acertain ‘Theophilus had oce-
casioned it; or that Theodosius, in the same
period of time, acted in absolute contradic-
tion to himself, or that this commission was
first given to Cynegius after the passage of
the above-cited law of June, 286.
1 See Zosimus, 1. IV. ο. 37, and Idatii
Chronicon, at the death of Cynegius in 388.
2 In consequenda achierosyna ille sit po-
tior, qui patriz plura preestiterit, nec tamen
a templorum cultu observatione Christianitatis
abscesserit. Cod. Theodos. 1. 12. Tit. 1.
1. 112.
8 As the Phallus, Lingam, the symbol of
the productive power of life in nature.
* Eunap. vita Aidesii, p. 43. Ἡ ᾽Αλεξαν-
δρεία διὰ τὸ τοῦ Laparidov ἱερόν ἱερὰ τὶς
ἣν οἰκουμένη, οἱ πανταχόϑεν φοιτῶντες ἐς
αὐτὴν πλῆϑος ἤσαν τῷ δήμῳ παρισουμένοι.
5 In what high veneration this temple
stood among the Heathens, we may gather
from the words of Libanius, who already ex-
pressed his alarm for its fate, when, in speak-
ing of the temple at Edessa, (orat. pro templ.
194,) he said: Ἤκουσα δὲ καὶ ἐριζόντων
τινῶν ἐν ὁποτέρῳ τὸ ϑαῦμα μεῖζον, ἱερῷ τῷ
μηκέτ’ ὄντι τούτῳ ἢ ὃ μήποτε πώϑοι ταὐτὸν,
ἐν ᾧπερ ὁ Σώρατις.
.
DESTRUCTION OF HEATHEN TEMPLES. TT
to force by tortures to sacrifice; and such as remained steadfast were
often put to death in the most cruel manner. After these acts of vio-
lence, having the worst to fear, desperation united with fanaticism
drove them onward, and all the efforts of the civil and military author-
ities to restore order were to no purpose. The emperor Theodosius
endeavored to profit by this favorable conjuncture, to effect the sup-
pression of Paganism in Egypt. Upon the report of these distur-
bances, there appeared from Constantinople, probably in the year 391,
a rescript ordering that all the Pagans who had shared in this tumult
should be pardoned; and that, as an acknowledgment of the mercy
which they had experienced, they might the more easily be converted
to Christianity, all the heathen temples at Alexandria should, as the
cause of this tumult, be destroyed.
Whilst. the Heathen were rejoicing at the prospect of saving their
lives, and had but just recovered from their alarm, it was a favorable
‘juncture for carrying into execution a stroke of policy, which, under
the state of feeling that existed at Alexandria, might at all times be
attended with great hazard. Large bodies of men assembled around
the temple of Serapis, upon which the imperial command was now about
to be executed. But there prevailed among the Heathen a reveren-
tial awe before the colossal statue of Serapis ; and from ancient times
the report had been propagated, that, when this statue was demolished,
heaven and earth would fall in one common ruin. This report had
some influence even upon the multitude of nominal Christians, who were
still inclined to the ancient superstition. No one ventured to attack
the image ; until at last a believing soldier seized an axe, and, exerting
all his strength, clove asunder the vast jaw-bone, of the image, amidst
the universal shouts of the pagan and Christian multitude. After the
first stroke had confuted the superstition, the whole image was easily
demolished and consumed to ashes. And, upon this, all the temples
at Alexandria, and in the neighboring district, taking its name from the
Canopian branch of the Nile, (ὁ Κάνωβος,) which particularly abounded
in Egyptian sanctuaries, were in part levelled with the ground, and in
part converted into churches and cloisters.?
The same course was followed in other countries ; sometimes not
without bloody conflicts, which might have been avoided if the bishops
had been more governed by the spirit of love and of wisdom. Mar-
cellus, bishop of Apamea in Syria, proceeded with great zeal to destroy
all the temples in the city and in the country, because he supposed
that by these ancient monuments of their worship, so venerated by the
people, Paganism would always continue to preserve itself alive. With
a train of followers little becoming the Christian bishop, an armed
force of soldiers and gladiators, he advanced to destroy the largest
temple. It was necessary, that the temple should be forcibly wrested
out of the hands of its pagan defenders. While the conflict was going
1 The case was somewhat similar here, 88 ὁ. 23. Sozom. VII. 15. Socrates, V. 16.
it was in later times with the thunder-oak Marcellini Comitis Chronicon ad A. 389, ff.
of Boniface. in Sirmond. opp. T. 11.
2 Eunapii vit. Ades. Rufin. hist. eccles.
*
VOL. II.
18 THEODOSIUS.
on, some Pagans seized upon the old bishop, who had been left behind
alone, and hurried him to the stake. The sons of the bishop were de-
sirous of punishing his murderers; but the provincial synod dissuaded
them from this, calling upon them rather to thank God that their father
had been deemed worthy of martyrdom.! From the present year, 391,
and onward, followed many laws, forbidding every description of pagan
worship, under penalty of a pecuniary mulct, and still severer punish-
ments. As the pagan magistrates themselves encouraged the violation
of these imperial laws, pecuniary fines were established against these
and against all their attendants in such cases. By a law of the year
392, the offering of sacrifice was in fact placed upon the same level
with the crime of high treason, (crimen majestatis ;) and accordingly
the offerer incurred the penalty of death.”
Whilst these events were transpiring in the East, everything in the
western part of the empire continued to remain as it was; and men
belonging to ancient and noble families in Rome, still ventured to raise
their voice in behalf of the religion of the eternal city. When Theo-
dosius, after the defeat of the usurper Maximus, was, in the year 388,
holding his residence in the West, the heathen party of the Roman
senate proposed to him once more, perhaps through Symmachus, their
former agent, that the revenues and privileges should be restored to
the temples and colleges of priests of which they had been deprived.
Theodosius seems to have been very near granting them their petition;
but the poimted representations which Ambrosius, bishop of Milan,
made against this measure, restrained him.? The heathen party suc-
ceeded, on the other hand, under more favorable circumstances, in ob-
taining from the emperor Eugenius, who, after the murder of the
young Valentinian II., had, in the year 392, been raised to the impe-
rial throne by the pagan commander Arbogast, everything which had
been refused them by Gratian, Valentinian, and Theodosius. The
voice of those influential Pagans, upon whom Eugenius felt himself to
be dependent, availed more with him than what Ambrosius, with incon-
siderate boldness, wrote to him in the name of religion.*
But when Theodosius marched into Rome, after the defeat of Euge-
nius, in the year 394, he made a speech before the assembled senate,
in which he called upon the Pagans, who, under the short reign of Hu-
genius, had once more enjoyed the free exercise of their religion, to
desist from their idolatry, and to embrace the religion in which alone
they could find forgiveness of all their sins. In spite of all their rep-
resentations, he took back from the Pagans what Eugenius had accorded
to them.®
1 See Sozom. VII. 15.
2 Cod. Theodos. 1. 16. Tit. X. 1.12. Quod-
si quispiam immolare hostiam sacrificaturus
audebit, ad exemplum majestatis reus ac-
cipiat sententiam competentem.
8 Tnsinuationi mez tandem adsensionem
detulit, says Ambrosius, ep. 57 ad Eugen.
§ 4. What the pretended Prosper (de Pro-
miss. et Predict. Dei, pars III. Promiss. 38)
says about the disgraceful banishment of
Symmachus, may perhaps be a fable.
4 See-Ambros. ep. 57.
5 Zosimus, a zealous Pagan, is in this case
a suspicious witness. It cannot therefore be
certainly’ determined how far what he re-
ports respecting the constancy and boldness
of the pagan senators is true or false
ARCADIUS AND HONORIUS. 79
The successors of the emperor Theodosius, Arcadius in the East, and
Honorius in the West, from the year 395 and onwards, confirmed, it is
true, soon after their accession to the throne, the laws of their father
against the pagan worship, with new sanctions; but the weakness of
their government, the various political disturbances, especially in the
West, the corruption or pagan views of individual governors, would all
favor the preservation of Paganism in many districts ; and hence it was
necessary that those laws should be continually re-enacted.
Whilst in Rome the public monuments of the pagan worship had
already vanished, the images of the old Tyrian Hercules could still be
worshipped and decorated by the Pagans in Carthage. As in earlier
times the popular cry in that city had demanded the destruction of the
Christian churches, so now resounded there the ery of the Christian
populace, demanding that all idols should be destroyed at Carthage, as
they had been at Rome. The people were excited by the folly of a
heathen magistrate, who had ventured to order the beard of Hercules
to be gilded.’ The prudent bishops were obliged to take special meas-
ures for moderating the ferocious zeal, so as to prevent acts of vio-
lence.”
Pagan landlords endeavored to maintain the heathen worship on their
estates, and, by means of sacrificial feasts and other means which their
power over the peasants gave them in spite of the existing laws, to bind
them to Heathenism. Pious and prudent bishops like Augustin were
obliged, in such cases, to exhort the Christian country people to obey
God rather than men ; 8 but they were also obliged to restrain the blind
zeal of the Christian populace, which was for destroying, in an illegal
manner, the idols upon the estates of other men. On this point, Au-
gustin speaks thus: ‘ Many of the Heathen have those abominations
upon their estates. Shall we go about to destroy them? No; let us
make it our first business to extirpate the idols in their hearts. When
they shall have become Christians, they will either invite us to so good
a work, or they will anticipate us in it. At present, we must pray for
them, not exasperate them.” +
But it was not pagan landholders alone that promoted the worship to
which they themselves were attached: even Christian proprietors were
willing to ignore it, when their peasants brought offerings into the tem-
ples, because the imposts which were laid upon the temples were a
source of profit to them. No doubt they could effect more by instruc-
1 Quomodo Roma, sic et Carthago! ex-
claimed the populace.
2 Augustini Sermo 24, T. V. ed. Ben.
8 On this point he says (p. 62): “The
martyrs endured the laceration of their mem-
bers, and Christians stood in fear of the
wrong which might be done them in Chris-
tian times. Whoever at present does you
wrong, does it in fear. He does not openly
say, ‘Come to the idols:’ he does not
openly say, ‘Come to my altars, and feast
yourself’ And if he said it, and you would
not do it, he might, in presenting his
complaint against you, testify this: —‘ He
would not come to my altars—to the
temples which I venerate.’ Let him even
say this. He dares not say it. But ina
fraudulent manner he calls you to answer
for something else. He will rob you of
your superfluity.”
ἜΤ, c..§. 27:
5 Zeno, bishop of Verona, (1. I. Tract. XV.
§ 6,) complains on this subject. In prx-
diis vestris fumantia undique fana tune non
nostis, que (si vera dicenda sunt) dissimu-
lando subtiliter custoditis. Probatio longe
non est. Jus templorum ne quis vobis eri-
piat, quotidie litigatis.
80 ARCADIUS AND HONORIUS.
tion and zeal for the spiritual welfare of their tenants in the spirit of
love, than by any forcible measures. The bishop Chrysostom, in a dis-
course delivered at Constantinople about the year 400, justly rebukes
them, because they did not procure the erection of churches and the
settlement of ministers who could preach the gospel upon their estates.
“Ts it not the duty,” he says, ‘‘of the Christian proprietor first to see
to it that all his tenants are Christians? Tell me, how is the country-
man to become a Christian, when he sees the welfare of his soul is so
much a matter of indifference to you? You can perform no miracles
to convert men. Well, then, convert them by those means which-lie in
your power ; by charity, by your care for men, by a gentle disposition,
by a kind address, and by whatever other means you possess. Many
erect baths and forums; but none, churches, or everything else sooner
than these. Therefore,”’ said this zealous preacher, whose heart glowed
so warmly for the welfare of men, “I exhort you, I beseech you, I re-
quire it of you as a favor to be shown me, or rather I lay it down as
the law, that no man allow his estate to be without a church.” 1
It being now represented to the government, that the idolatrous tem-
ples and images on the country estates contributed much to the promo-
tion of Paganism among the peasantry, the emperor Honorius passed a
law, in the year 399, directing that all temples in the country should be
destroyed without tumult, so that all occasion of superstition might
everywhere be removed.2 This law was expressly confined. to the tem-
ples in the country, which could not reasonably be considered as monu-
ments of art contributing to the ornament of the country ;? for the
latter were protected by new laws against the fury of destruction.*
Yet, on the one hand, it is certain that in those cities in which only a
comparatively small number of Pagans were still to. be found, and where
this small number were kept together by the temples which were still
remaining, the zeal of the Christian population would easily bring about
the destruction also of these ;5 but, on the other hand, however, there
can be no doubt, that this law was never universally executed according
to the letter.
Among the Pagans in many countries, an impression prevailed, in
consequence of one of those predictions by which they were so often
deluded, that Christianity would last for only three hundred and sizty-
five years ; and this prediction, by a loose reckoning from the time of
Christ’s passion, seemed now to be near the time for its accomplishment.
Hence the destruction of the temples, which took place this year,
made the greater impression upon many of the Pagans.® Yet they
were still powerful enough on many of the country estates of North
1 Homil. 18, act. ap. vel in locis abditis constituta nullo orna-
2 Si qua in agris templa sunt, sine turba mento sunt.
ac tumultu diruantur. His enim dejectis * Cod. Theodos. 1.16. Tit. 10,1. 18.
atque sublatis, omnis superstitionis materia 5 Augustin (de civitate Dei, 1. 18, ¢. 54)
consumetur. ; says that in this vear all the idolatrous tem-
8 Thus in the Codex canonum eccles. ples and images at Carthage were destroyed
Africane, (c. 58,) it is said: Οὐδ in agris by the two comites, Gaudertius and Jovius
6 See Augustin. I. c.
PAGANISM IN THE EAST. 81
Africa, to commit acts of violence on the Christians, while engaged in
the exercises of worship.?
After the death of the powerful Stilicho, by whom Honorius had
been governed, the latter, probably through the influence of some of
the great who were favorably disposed to Paganism, enacted a law
which contradicted the laws hitherto issued. For, between the years
409 and 410, there appeared in the western empire a law which or-
dained universal religious freedom. Yet this law remained in force
certainly but a very short time ; and the old ones soon went once more
into operation. By an edict of the year 416,3 Pagans were excluded
from all civil and military places of trust; yet the necessities of the
time and the weakness of the empire hardly allowed of its being carried
into strict execution.*
The consequences which followed the emigrations of tribes in the
western empire; the political disturbances which threw everything
into confusion; the irruptions of savage and pagan hordes, might
sometimes light up a ray of hope in the small pagan party: but it
soon dwindled away again to nothing.
In many districts of the East, Paganism maintained itself for a
longer time ; and the party of pagan Platonists, which continued down
into the sixth century, was its principal support. The emperors were
move by their political interests to avoid destroying everything at
once in those cities where Pagdnism predominated, lest they might
detroy those interests also. ‘They chose rather to proceed gradually.
This principle may be detected in the remarkable answer which the
emperor Arcadius gave Porphyry, bishop of Gaza, in Palestine, when
the latter, in the year 401, prayed for the destruction of the idolatrous
temples in this city, inhabited for the most part by fanatical Pagans.®
8 As late as the year 403, the Spanish
Christian poet, Prudentius, had asserted
1 Thus sixty Christians were murdered
at Suffetum in Numidia, probably in conse-
quence of an attack on the statue of Her-
cules, Augustin. ep. 50. At Calame in Nu-
midia, A.D. 408, the Pagans ventured, in
defiance of the laws enacted shortly before
by the emperor Honorius against all pagan
festivities, to march in an indecent heathen
procession hefore the Christian churches ;
and, when the clergy remonstrated, a wild
uproar arose. The church was attacked
with stones, finally set fire to, and a Chris-
tian murdered. The bishop, who was hunted
after, was obliged to conceal himself. Augus-
tin. ep. 90, 91, 104.
2 Ut libera voluntate quis cultum Chris-
tianitatis exciperet, cod. eccles. Afric. c. 107.
It is true, this law, as it here reads, can be
understood, according to its letter, to mean
only that no one should be forced to em-
brace Christianity. And this was in fact a
thing which, properly speaking, had as yet
never been done. But it is clear that it
was so interpreted. as if the legal penalties
which had been in force against those who
exercised any other form of worship than
that of the catholic Christians, should be
done away.
that difference in respect to religion had no
influence in the bestowment of posts of
honor, and declared this to be right. L. 1,6.
Symmachum, v. 617.
Denique, pro meritis terrestribus equa rependens
Munera, sacricolis summos impertit honores
Dux bonus, et certare sivit cum laude suorum,
Nec pago implicitos per debita culmina mundi
Tre viros prohibet: quoniam ccelestia nunquam
Terrenis solitum per iter gradientibus obstant.
4 Τῇ the account of Zosimus (1. V.c. 46)
is true, the feeble Honorius, unable to dis-
pense with the services of one of his pagan
generals, Generid, who would serve only on
this condition, was obliged immediately to
repeal this law.
6 The life of Porphyry, bishop of Gaza,
from which this story is taken, and which
was composed by his disciple, the deacon
Marcus, —a work which is important as fur-
nishing many facts illustrative of the histo-
ry of the church and of manners in this
period, —has as yet been published only ina
Latin translation, whose author seems not
even to have given himself the pains of
accurately decyphering the Greek text: see
82 ARCADIUS AND HONORIUS.
“T am aware,” says he, “ that your city is given to idolatry; but it
faithfully pays its tributes, and brings a great deal into the public trea-
sury. If we proceed now to disturb it thus suddenly, the inhabitants
will fly away in fear, (namely, that the attempt would finally be made
to bring them over to Christianity by force,) and we should lose so
much in our revenue. But we will rather oppress them by degrees,
depriving the idolaters of their dignities and places of trust, and issu-
ing our commands that the temples shall be closed and oracles no
longer be delivered; for when they are oppressed on all sides, they
will come to the knowledge of the truth,” —a fine mode of conversion,
to be sure! — “ for all sudden and too authoritative measures are hard
for the subjects.” Yet finally the cunning of the empress Eudoxia
prevailed — a woman who perfectly understood how Arcadius was to
be managed, by taking advantage of his weaknesses ; and who was led
to think that her zeal for the destruction of idolatrous temples, and her
many gifts to the clergy and the monks, would make atonement for
her sins. By her influence, the reasonable hesitation of the weak
Arcadius was finally overcome. Ἷ
It is true, ἴῃ a law of the year 423, it is expressed as doubtful
whether any Pagans still remained:! but as it was considered ne-
cessary, in confirming the ancient laws against them, to change the
punishment of death, which had hitherto been established against those
who sacrificed, into the confiscation of goods and banishment; as it
was considered necessary to protect the still remaining Pagans, who
attempted nothing contrary to the laws, against being abused and
plundered by nominal Christians, who used religion as a pretext ;? it
follows from all this, that there still continued to be Pagans, which is
proved moreover by the laws issued under this reign against those who
apostatized from Christianity to Paganism. Had there been good rea-
son to doubt whether there were any more Pagans, there certainly
would have been no occasion for a law of this sort. But undoubtedly
the fact, that few remained who openly declared themselves Pagans,
Acta Sanctorum, at the 26th of February,
and the Bibliotheca Patrum, Galland, T. IX.
From a promising young Danish scholar,
Dr. Clausen, we are led to expect the pub-
lication of the Greek original work, which
is still extant among the treasures of the
imperial library at Vienna. Meantime I
shall insert here the passage relating to the
present subject, as it reads in the original.
The words of Arcadius are: Oida, ὁτὲ 7
πόλις ἐκείνη κατείδωλος ἐστὶν, ἀλλ᾽ εὐγνώμων
ἔστι περὶ τὴν εἰσφόραν τῶν δημοσίων, πόλλα
συντελοῦσα. ’Edv οὖν ἄφνω διασοβῶμεν αὐ-
τοὺς, τῷ φόβῳ φύγῃ χρησόνταΐ, καὶ ἀπολοῦμεν
τοσοῦτον. Κάνονα, ἀλλ᾽ εἰ δοκεῖ, κατὰ μέρος.
ϑλίβωμεν αὐτούς, περιαιροῦντες tac ἀξΐας
τῶν εἰδωλομένων καὶ τὰ ἀλλὰ πολιτίκα ὀφφι-
kid, καὶ κελευώμεν τὰ ἱερὰ αὐτῶν κλεισϑῆναι.
καὶ μηκέτι χρηματίζειν. ᾿Επὰν γὰρ ϑλίβωσιν
εἰς πώντα στενουμένοι, ἐπιγινωσκοῦσι τὴν
ἀληϑείαν, τὸ γὰρ ὑπερβόλην ἔχον αἰφνίδιον
βαρὺ τοῖς ὑπηκόοις.
11,. 16, Tit. 10,1. 22, Paganos qui su-
persunt, quanquam jam nullos esse creda-
mus.
21, ¢. 1, 23 et 24. Hoe Christianis, qui
vel vere sunt, vel esse dicuntwr, specialiter
demandamus, ut Judzis ac Paganis, in qui-
ete degentibus, nihilque tentantibus turbu-
lentum legibusque contrarium, non audeant
manibus inferre, religionis auctoritate abusi.
Against. those who, under the pretext of
religion, robbed the Pagans, Augustin also
felt himself called upon to preach: “ Per-
haps in order that Christ may not say to
you, I was clothed, and thou hast robbed
me, thou alterest the custom, and thinkest
to rob ἃ Pagan and to clothe a Christian.
Here also Christ will answer thee; nay, he
answers thee even now by his servant, who
ever he may be: Here too do me no harm;
when, being a Christian, thou robbest the
Heathen, thou hinderest him from becem-
ing a Christian.” Sermo 179. § 5.
JUSTINIAN. 83
may be reconciled with the other, that it was necessary to devise laws
of this sort, if the matter is presented in the following point of light;
namely, that many were called apostates from Christianity, who had
never seriously passed over to the Christian church — individuals who
had submitted to baptism only as an outward form, but had ever con-
tinued to practise the pagan rites in secret. Whenever they were dis-
covered, they were called apostates.}
The Heathens, then, were compelled, from the present time in the
fifth century, to practise and propagate their religion in secret, for the
purpose of avoiding persecutions ; and by this means their religion was
rendered the dearer to them. The holding of the knowledge of divine
things as a secret, which could be the property only of the philosoph-
ically educated ; the engrafting of it upon the mythical representations,
beyond which the people knew nothing; this belonged necessarily to
the system of the Neo-Platonists, and these principles made it possible
for them, with all their enthusiasm for Hellenism, yet to adapt them-
selves to the character of the times. A remarkable example of this is
presented in the life of the pagan philosopher Proclus,* which his dis-
ciple Marinus has written.*
The emperor Justinian, (from the year 527 and onwards,) whose
despotism even in spiritual things was the source of so many disorders to
the Eastern church, endeavored, soon after the commencement of his
reign, to suppress the last remains of Paganism by force, so far as this
1 Qui nomen Christianitatis induti, sacri-
ficia fecerint. Cod. Theodos. 1. 16. Tit.
VIL 1. 7.
2 The art represented in the symbol of
Proteus: Συνεῖναι τοῖς ἀνϑρώποις οὐ ϑείως,
ἀλλὰ πολιτικῶς. See Synes. ep. 137 ad
Herculian. Of the Pagans who were ar-
rested in the exercise of the cultus forbid-
den by the laws, Augustin says, (Enarrat.
in ψ. 140, § 20:) Quis eorum comprehen-
sus est in sacrificio, cum his legibus ista
prohiberentur, et non negavit? Quis eorum
comprehensus est adorare idolum, et non
clamavit: non feci; et timuit ne convincere-
tur 4
3 Born A.D. 412, died 487.
* As a proof of the confidence which
Heron the mathematician had in the young
Proclus, it is mentioned here, that he com-
municated to him the whole method of his
worship of God. When he first visited the
heathen Platonic philosopher Syrianus at
Athens, the moon having begun to shine,
the latter sought to get him out of the way,
so that he micht perform his devotions unob-
served with another Pagan, ο. XI. We see
from this biographical narrative, that the
worship of Isis still prevailed at Phile in
Egypt, (Ρ. 47); that in Athens the worship
of Esculapius was secretly practised in the
temple, which, however, was soon after-
wards destroyed; and that the Pagans
prayed there for their sick. Proclus thought
himself happy in that he occupied a dwell-
ing near the temple, so as to be able to
perform his devotions there without being
observed, and invoke the aid of Esculapius
in behalf of the sick, p. 73. Καὶ τοιοῦτον
ἔργον διεπράξατο οὐκ ἀλλῶς ἢ κἀν Tavda
τοὺς πόλλους λανϑώνων, καὶ οὐδεμίαν πρόφα-
ow τοῖς ἐπιβουλεύειν ἐϑελοῦσι παρασχεῖν.
Marinus extols it as a proof of the Hereu-
lean gourage and spirit of Proclus, , that
under all the storms of this Titanic period,
he steadfastly and without once wavering,
though not without danger, maintained
himself to the end, τὸ δὲ τῆς πολιτίκης ἀν-
δρείας εἰδὸς ἡρακλείον οὑτῶς ἐπεδείξατο, ἐν
ζάλῃ γὰρ παρέλϑων καὶ τρικυμίᾳ πραγμάτων
τυφωνείων ἀντὶ πνεόντων τῇ ἐννομοζώῃ, (the
ancient national cultus,) ἐμβρεϑῶς οὑτὸς
ἄνηρ καὶ ἀστεμφῶς, εἰ καὶ παρακίνδυνευτικῶς,
τὸν βίον διενήξατο. Once, probably by his
over-zealous observance of the pagan rites,
he drew on himself a persecution from the
Christians, and took refuge for some length
of time in Asia Minor, p. 35. At Adrota
in Lydia, there was still practised among
the Heathens, in an ancient temple, a wor-
ship respecting the name of which they
were not agreed. According to some, the
temple belonged to Esculapius; according
to others, to the Dioscurs. Remedies for
the cure of diseases were said to be here
suggested by supernatural inspiration, and
miraculous cures effected. Many legends
were circulated respecting it, ¢. 32.
84 POLEMICAL WRITINGS OF THE PAGANS.
could be done in such away. ‘The persecutions were aimed particu-
larly at men in the civil service. They were deprived of their prop-
erty, tortured, executed. Many hypocritically assumed the profession
of Christianity to escape the persecutions: of course, in such cases
they soon took off the mask, and were once more seen attending the
performance of sacrifices.!_ The emperor, doubtless having heard that
Athens? still continued to be a seat of Paganism, and that this religion
was propagated by the pagan Platonists who still taught there, forbade
the holding of philosophical lectures in that place.? These persecutions
induced the pagan philosophers, among whom were Damascius and
Isidorus and the renowned Simplicius,‘ to take refuge with the Persian
king Chosroes, respecting whose love for philosophy they had heard
exaggerated accounts. ‘This prince, it is true, received them in a
friendly manner; but their expectations were by no means realized.
Parsism was as little agreeable to them as Christianity ; and they had
many a longing wish after the Grecian customs. Chosroes, in the
treaty of peace, prevailed upon the emperor Justinian, to allow them
the free exercise of their religion in the Roman empire.®
B. Of the Polemical Writings of the Pagans against Christianity ;
of the Charges which they brought against it generally ; and of the
manner in which these Charges were answered by the Teachers of the
Christian Church.
In respect to the attacks on Christianity by pagan writers, it may
be observed that it was a necessary consequence of the altered circum-
stances of the times, that few would venture to combat Christianity in
works devoted expressly to that object. Julian, who endeavored to sup-
plant Christianity as an emperor, appeared against it also as an author ;
and his work, of which considerable fragments have been preserved to
our times, in the refutation of it by Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, is the
most important one, in this respect, belonging to the present period.®
Although, as we have remarked before, much that was bad, and which
had been presented to Julian under the Christian name, had, from the
1 Theophanes Chronograph. ad. A. 522, emy, the Stoa, the Lyceum, were shown to
See the
i.e. according to our reckoning, 531 from
the birth of Christ. See Ideler’s Manual
of Chronology, II. 458. Procop. hist. ar-
cana, p. 90, c. XI. ed. Orelli. The same
author (c. 19) relates, that Justinian em-
ployed the accusation of Heathenism as a
pretext. to get into possession of the estates .
which his cupidity thirsted after. Comp.
the chronicle of Johannes Malala, pars II.
p- 184, ed. Oxon.
2 The Athenian schools had sunk so low
in the beginning of the fifth century, that
Synesius could write: Athens is now fa-
mous only for her Hymettian honey, and
that he could compare the then Athens in
her relation to the ancient, with the hide of
a slaughtered victim; so completely was
philosophy banished from the place, while
only those dead and silent spots, the Acad-
and wondered at by strangers.
136th letter of Synesius to his brother ; but,
after this time, Athens was somewhat re-
stored to its bloom by the Neo-Platonic
philosophy.
3 Joh. Malala, 1. c. p. 187.
4 Simplicius (in Epictet. Enchiridion, ec. 13,
ed. Lugd. Batav. 1640, p. 79) probably al-
ludes to the fact, that the Pagans were to
be forced to renounce their convictions:
Τυραννίκας βίας, μεχρὲ καὶ τοῦ ἀσεβεῖν avay
καζοῦσας. ᾿
5 See Agathias de rebus Justiniani, 1. II.
c. 30, p. 69, ed. Paris. L. 1]. ¢. 30, p. 131,
ed, Niebuhr.
6 Julian wrote this work in the winter,
during his residence at Antioch. Liban
epitaph. Julian. vol. I. p. 581.
WRITINGS 85
OF JULIAN.
first, exerted its influence in giving his mind an impression unfavorable
to Christianity, yet it is also true that his hatred was not confined to
the corrupt and distorted representations of Christianity prevailing at
that period, but was turned against Christianity itself; that Christian-
ity, though presented in all the purity of its essential character, could
not have appeared to him, in the temper of mind which he actually
cherished, otherwise than hateful. It may, indeed, be said, that many
of the foreign elements which had engrafted themselves on Christian-
ity, came nearer to Julian’s pagan mode of thinking than the purely
Christian doctrine. He was sufficiently well acquainted with the
written records of Christianity, to discern the difference between many
of the notions which prevailed among Christians at this time and the
doctrines of the New Testament; between the life of the Christians of
this period and the requisitions of the original doctrine of Christ.
Thus, in reference to the honor paid to martyrs, concerning which
nothing indeed is to be found in the New Testament, he reproached
the Christians with departing from the words of Christ. Yet Julian
knew too little of the spirit of Christianity, which, with all his knowl-
edge of the letter of the New Testament, yet could not. be understood
by him while he cherished such inward opposition to the essence of the
gospel, — he knew too little of that spirit to see wherein the honor paid
to the martyrs conflicted with the primitive religion. To him, looking
at the matter from his own pagan position, the Christian element,
which lay at the root even of this superstition, was precisely the thing
which appeared hateful. It was the importance which the Christian
feeling attached to the remains of a body that had once been the tem-
ple of the Holy Ghost, and was destined to be saagain; the new views
of death and of the sanctification and transfiguration of the earthly, of
all that is peculiar to humanity which Christianity brought with it.
To him, the Pagan, whatever was dead was impure and defiling: hence
he tauntingly remarked against the, Christians, that they had filled
every thing with graves and monuments, and that they rolled them-
selves upon graves.t He accused them of practising magic in this
way, and of seeking prophetic dreams by sleeping upon the graves,
Gncubationes.) The apostles, he said, had from the first instructed
the faithful in these things; and among the Jews the art had long
been known, for they often had been reproached with it by the
prophets (Isaiah 65th.)2 So again, he rightly perceived that the
persecutions against heretics and Pagans, which had hitherto been re-
sorted to, were contrary to the doctrine of Christ and of the apostles.
1 He also employs arguments wholly ir-
relevant and out of place, for the purpose
of showing them that this was an unchris-
tian thing; as for example, from Matth.
chap. 28 : “ How, then, do you call upon the
same God, when Jesus says that the sepul-
chres are full of all uncleanness?” Again,
Christ had said, “ Let the dead bury their
dead.” Though the truth was, those who
called on the martyrs looked upon them,
VOL. II. “δ
not as the dead, but as those wno were liv-
ing with God.
2 Cyrill. c. Julian. 1. X. 335-40. Perhaps
the Christians may have themselves given
occasion for this charge, by their stories
about appearances of the martyrs in visions
by night in the chapels of the martyrs, —
about cures of diseases, which had been
wrought by them ; and by their custom of
transferring a great deal from the pagan
superstition of incubations to the martyrs
86 POLEMICAL WRITINGS OF THE PAGANS.
“You destroy temples and altars,” says he,! “and you have not
only murdered those among us who persevere in the religion of our
fathers, but also those among the heretics who are in the same error
with yourselves, but who do not mourn the dead man (so he sarcasti-
cally calls the worship of Christ) in the same way that you do. But
this is something which must be ascribed to your own invention; for
neither Jesus nor Paul invited you to do it.”’ Instead of acknowledg- ἡ
ing, however, that this was contrary to the spirit of the gospel, or at
least to the character of Christ and the apostles, Julian maliciously
gives it the following explanation. He says that Christ — which, how-
ever, is refuted by Christ’s own language—and the apostles did not
expect their party would ever acquire such power; and here again he
repeats the old objection to Christianity, which in truth redounds to its
honor, that it did not first spread among the wise and mighty of the
world. ‘* But the reason is,’ says he, ‘they never looked forward
to such mighty things; for they were satisfied if they could deceive
maids and slaves, and through these the women and their husbands,
such as Cornelius and Sergius. You may put me down for a liar, if a
single author of that period (for these events happened under Tiberius
or Claudius) ever mentioned these men.” How could he possibly
have possessed the least sense for the godlike in the life of Christ,
when he was capable of brmging up such a question as the one which
follows, where, comparing Christ with great kings,? he says: ‘“ But
Jesus, who has persuaded a few of the worst among you, has been
named these three hundred years; yet what remarkable thing had he
done, unless you suppose that healing the lame and the blind and ex-
orcising demoniacs in the villages of Bethsaida and Bethany are to be
ranked among the greatest works ;”” — when he alleges against the sov-
ereignty of Christ, that he was one of the subjects of the emperor;
that he who commanded the spirits, who walked upon the sea, and
ejected evil spirits, could not change the will of his friends and kinsmen
so as to secure their own salvation; could not bring them to believe in
hin? How little did he who could say this, understand the nature of
a moral change !
No less characteristic of the man, was the credulity with which, after
ridiculing the well-authenticated faith of the Christians, he received one
of the absurd tales of Heathenism, objecting to the Christians that they
had forsaken the ancilia which had fallen from heaven, and which se-
cured eternal protection to the city of Rome, and the Roman empire ;
and, instead of these, worshipped the wood of the cross. And equally
characteristic is his objection to Christianity, — an objection which con-
tains some truth, but truth which redounds to the honor of Christianity,
— when he says that the Christians had let the best things of Judaism
and Paganism go, and blended together the worst out of both. They
had, for instance, thrown away from Judaism the sacred rites, the
various legal prescriptions, which required the holiest life, and from
Paganism the devout feeling towards all higher natures; while, on the
1L.¢.1. VI. p. 206. 2 VI. 491. 3L.c. VI. 194.
WRITINGS OF JULIAN. 87
contrary, they had taken from the Jews their intolerant Monotheism,
and from the Pagans their freedom and indifference of living ;! or, as
Julian expressed it, their custom of eating everything, like the green
herb. The truth here is, that Christianity delivered men from the
yoke of the ceremonial law, and from a religion which cleaved to the
elements of the world; and that, on other grounds, it gave a freedom
of outward life, which, in outward appearance, might seem like the
pagan freedom, although it came from an entirely different spirit.
The relation here is precisely the same as that between the freedom of
the man who has never felt the power and the burden of sin, and the
freedom of him who has been actually redeemed from its bondage.
He says the Christians had given to the pagan freedom a still wider
scope ; — correctly, we must admit, so far as it concerned outward
things ; — and this they had been compelled to do as a matter of course,
‘‘ because their religion was to suit all nations, all forms of human life ;
the innkeeper, the publican, the dancer, &c.”* Bating the circum-
stance that Julian carries the case out to the extreme of caricature,
there is, undoubtedly, a foundation of truth under-lying even this accu-
sation, conformably to what has just been remarked. It was precisely
because Christianity started with this freedom, because it was bound
to no particular outward and earthly forms of life, because its trans-
forming influence operated from within, that it was capable of ap-
proaching, in like manner, people of all nations, ranks, and relations,
so as to diffuse its sanctifying influence over them all. So, too, he
glorifies the gospel, which was given to make returning sinners holy
and happy, when he reckons it as a reproach to Christianity that it
came first of all to sinners; and when, to give the satire more point, he
cites the testimony of the apostle Paul himself, Ist Corinthians 6: 11.
In this case, however, instead of dreaming of the justifying and sancti-
fying power of faith in Christ, to which Paul alludes, he perverts the
sense of the apostle’s language, as if he referred to some magical power
of baptism to destroy sin. ‘ Dost thou see,’’ he says, “ that these were
also such? But they have been sanctified and cleansed, because they
have received a water that penetrates to the soul, by which they could
be purified. Baptism cannot remove leprosy, gout, warts, and other
less or greater bodily defects; but it was able to purge away all the
sins of the soul.” ὃ
As Julian did not recognize the one image of one only God in all
humanity, — but imagined that he saw in the different races of men
only the impress of the different individualities of their presiding deities ;
or rather, as he carried out the principle of the deification of nature,
and his gods were merely the different human individualities of charac-
ter, abstracted and deified ---- ἃ national character once in existence
1 Τὴν ἀδιαφορίαν καὶ xyvdaor#ra. Gene- sucha temper of mind clings only to the
sis 9:3. Rom. 14:2. outward. ‘The Christians, moreover, pro-
2 VII. 238. moted this misapprehension by their own
8 VII. f. 245. And so indeed it must ap- representations of the magical effects of
pear to a man who reads these words with baptism.
such a temper and habit of mind; because
88 POLEMICAL WRITINGS OF THE PAGANS.
appeared to him to be incapable of change. He adduces the Western
nations as a proof. of this, who, although they had been for so long a
time under the Roman dominion, yet continued to remain for the most
part uncultivated :! but history, to whose testimony he appealed, has con-
futed what he says; for Christianity has been able, without destroying
the more essential national peculiarities, to develope and bring out the
spiritual and moral elements*which he at the foundation of the human
nature in all.
Julian labors to show, that Christianity generally had taken its shape
only by degrees, through the codperation of various outward causes ;
as the fact would easily seem to be to the superficial observer, and in
general to every man who does not look at it from the very centre of
Christian intuition ; since he will not know how to distinguish in Chris-
tianity itself, the unchangeable essence from the changeable form, nor
that which springs out of the essence of Christianity from the foreign ele-
ments which have mixed in with it. Now, although Julian undoubtedly.
perceived the difference between the Christian lite and the church doc-
trines of his time, and that which was contained in the letter of the
sacred scriptures ; yet he could not separate what was really foreign
in the prevailing church doctrines of the Christians of his time, and had
been added to the original doctrines of the New Testament, from what
was merely the drapery of a particular age in which the essential Chris-
tian truth had clothed itself; and thus he might easily be led to sup-
pose that he found contradictions in the doctrines of the New Testa-
ment, because he was incapable of recognizing the unity of the essence
in the variety of its forms of representation.
Thus, for instance, he imagined that he perceived a contradiction of
this sort in the case of the doctrine of Christ’s divmity ; and in his re-
marks on this point, he does not even agree with himself. In one pas-
sage, he says of Christ to the Christians of his time :? ‘‘As you would.
have it, he has created heaven and earth; for none of his disciples has
said this of him, except John alone, ntl even he not clearly and ex-
plicitly.”” And in another place, he says,? that neither Paul nor any
one of the evangelists ventured to call Jesus, God; but that John, on
hearing that im “the cities of Greece and Italy many had already be-
come infected with this contagion, and that the graves of Peter and
Paul were secretly worshipped,* had first endeavored, by stealth and
artifice, to foist m the doctrine of Christ’s divinity.© And yet, in
another place,® where he wishes to point out contradictions between the
Old and New Testaments,’ he finds in the formula of baptism, —
which he nowhere attempts to explain away as a foreign addition to the
1TV. 131. the New Testament, the Christian teachers
2°VI. 213. here laid themselves open to his attacks, in
8 L. X. f. 317. a way which he well knew how to take ad-
4 We see with what assurance Julian here vantave of, when they professed to tind the
created facts after his own imagination. whole doctrine concerning Christ, as it was
5L, X.f. 327. first clearly unfolded in the New Testament,
6 EL. IX. f. 291. or even as with all the later church defini-
7In respect to the relation of the Old- tions, contained already in the Old Testa-
Testament idea of the Messiah to that of ment.
WRITINGS OF JULIAN. THE PHILOPATRIS. 89
gospels, — a direction to invoke Christ, and the doctrine of three divine
essences.! He accuses the apostle Paul of self-contradiction,—of a
wavering between universalism and particularism in the doctrine
concerning God; simply because, while looking himself upon the
outside of the matter, and everywhere hunting up contradictions,
he was incapable of perceiving the inner connection of the Pauline sys-
tem. ‘ Paul,” says he,? “ changes his doctrine concerning God, as a
polypus changes color on the rocks. At one time he calls the Jews
God’s only inheritance ; at another, he persuades the Gentiles that
God is not the God of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles. We
might rightly ask Paul, if God was not the God of the Jews only, but
also of the Gentiles, why did he send Moses, the prophets, and the
miracles of the fabulous legends, to the Jews alone?”’? Yet this ques-
tion might have been easily answered, by simply unfolding the Pauline
doctrines concerning the law of God which is within man ; concerning
the divine descent of humanity ; concerning the God in whom we live,
move, and have our being, and who has nowhere left himself without a
witness ; concerning the revelation of God in the works of creation, and
in the conscience ; concerning the reaction between moral corruption
and spiritual blindness; concerning the object of the Old-Testament
theocracy, as a preparatory system to the spread of God’s kingdom
among all mankind; concerning the fixed time of God’s grace to all,
after all had been brought to the consciousness of guilt. In like man-
ner, he accuses the apostle Paul, and the Christians of that period, of
contradicting the doctrines of Christ himself, when they held that it
was not necessary to observe the Mosaic ceremonial law, notwithstand-
ing that Christ, in his sermon on the Mount, had.said that he had not
come to destroy the law, but to fulfil, and had declared even the least
of the commandments to be binding *— a difficulty which admitted of
being easily resolved, by rightly determining the meaning and the
references of our Saviour’s remarks.
In the reign of Julian, some one, probably a pagan rhetorician, wrote
the dialogue, in imitation of Lucian, called Philopatris. This contains
a satirical account of the church doctrine of the Trinity, and of the
monks, who, as they were the emperor’s most violent enemies, predicted
nothing but failure of his enterprises. ‘They are represented as men
who took pleasure in the public misfortunes, as the enemies of their
country; and hence the title of the dialogue.® In order to understand
1L. VIII. f. 262, he says, that in the Old
Testament no such designation of a higher
nature belonging to the Messiah, as in the
words πρωτότοκος πάσης κτίσεως, is to be
found; and yet this expression belongs to
Paul, whom Julian had placed, on this sub-
ject, in such direct opposition to John.
21,. 111. f. 106.
8 Thus he speaks who cited the fable of
the Ancilia above mentioned as an un-
doubted fact.
4L. X. 351.
δ The very way in which the doctrine of
the Trinity is ridiculed in this dialogue,
VOL. II. ἣ
(§ 12,) favors the supposition that it was
composed at some period subsequent to the
Nicene council, and this is confirmed hy the
description of the persons ({ 20 and 26)
who are represented altogether after the
same manner as the monks were usually
depicted by the Pagans of this period. ‘The
expression, οἱ κεκαρμένοι τὴν γνώμην, Mani
festly alludes to the monkish tonsure. The
monks say, that when they have fasted ten
days, and watched ten nights, rice
spiritual songs, they received revelations 0
future events in dreams. Prophetic dicams
often occur in this age, both among Pagans
90 PAGAN OBJECTIONS
the nature of the charges which the Pagans brought against Christian-
ity and the Christian church, we must not only look into their polemi-
cal works, which, for the reasons already alleged, could in this period
be but few in number; but we must also endeavor to find out the cur-
rent objections brought against Christianity by the Pagans in the ordi-
nary intercourse of life. The sources from which such knowledge may
be obtained, are partly such writings of the Pagans in which they occa-
sionally allude to Christianity or the Christians ; and partly the apolo-
getical writings of the fathers, and the homilies of Chrysostom and
Augustin.
Although many of the objections of the Pagans to Christianity,
springing out of the natural relation of Paganism, or of man in his cor-
rupt state of nature, to Christianity, must ever be recurring ; yet there
are many also which were called forth by the particular condition of the
Christian church in this period. ‘This is the case with all such objec-
tions as arose from the confounding together of church and state, and
from the mass of corruption which, under the garb of Christianity, had
attached itself to the church. If, in the former period, the extension
of the church, in spite of all persecution, witnessed of that which the
divine power of the gospel alone was able to effect ; now, on the other
hand, the Pagans, looking, as men are wont to do, at the present mo-
ment, and forgetting the experience of the preceding centuries, could
object against the divine character of the religion, that Christianity
depended for its spread on the favor of princes. To refute this objec-
tion, Theodoretus must appeal to the experience of the past, and to
what was transpiring in Persia? when he wrote, in the beginning of the
fifth century.
In the preceding period, the Christians had been accused of irrever-
ence towards the Ceesars, (irreligiositas in Czesares,) because they re-
fused to join in those demonstrations of respect which idolatrous pagan
flattery paid to the emperors. But when the Christians now reproached
and Christians. Not only what the friend
of the emperor says respecting the entire
victory over the Persians, but also what he
remarks concerning the cessation of the
inroads of the Scythians, (ἐκδρόμαι τῶν
Σκυϑῶν,) is in keeping with this period.
And this latter passage has been wrongly
adduced by Kelle, who attributes the pro-
duction to Lucian, (see his dissertation on
this dialogue in the commentationes theol.
of Rosenmueller, Fuldner, and Maurer,
Lips. 1826, T. I. P. II. p. 246,) against
Gessner’s hypothesis, with which we agree ;
for by the authors of the fourth century,
the Goths were assuredly sometimes desig-
nated by the general appellation of Scyth-
ians, (see for example, Eunapii excerpta,
c. 26, in Majus scriptorum veterum nova
collectio, Tom. II. p. 272.) But there is
one point in which Kelle is unquestionably
right, viz. in saying that what is affirmed con-
cerning the subjection of Egypt, a country
which had then been so long time already a
Roman province, cannot without force be
interpreted of this period. Yet it may be
questioned, whether all the particular marks
denoting the time in this dialogue are to
be understood as historically true; whether
the author did not purposely intend to
transpose the age, and therefore purposely
introduce many things which belonged in
no respect to the existing period. In Giese-
ler’s Kirchengeschichte, I. Bd. 2te Auflage,
S. 131, I see that the Herr Staatsrath
Niebuhr makes this dialogue to have been
written at Constantinople, under the em-
peror Nicephorus Phocas, in the year 968.
But, as I am ignorant of the reasons which
are supposed to recommend this hypothesis
above that of Gessner, I can only mention
the fact.
1. Ἔκ βασιλίκης ηὐξῆσϑαι δυνάμεως. The-
odoret. Greece. Affect. curat. Disputat. DX
Ῥ. 935, T. IV. ed. Schultz.
2 See below, persecutions in Persia
TO CHRISTIANITY. 91
the Pagans with prostrating themselves before the images of the gods,
the reply they sometimes received was, that they did not scruple them-
selves to fall down before the images of the emperor; which was the
less ‘excusable in them, since, according to their own doctrine, it was
an honor due to God alone.1. The Christian, indeed, had an answer ;
that this was an abuse which had sprung from Paganism, and, having
become deeply rooted by the length of time, could not be extirpated
by Christianity ; though the church did not cease to condemn it.?
Next, while in the earlier times the conduct of the Christians had
been the most expressive and convincing proof of the divine power of
their faith ; now, on the other hand, the enormous corruption which,
under the show of Christianity, manifested itself in the public relations
and among the great mass of nominal Christians, was seized upon b
the Pagans as a testimony against Christianity, and against the Chris-
tian period which had led to such results. They did not reflect that
the evils which float on the surface are ever easily detected, but that
it requires more penetration to discern the truly good, which loves con-
cealment and is less obtrusive. They saw, as Augustin justly expresses
himself with regard to such characters, the scum only, which swims
above, but did not remark the good oil, which had its secret channels,
and, silently passing through them, made increase without notice.*
Thus it was urged as an objection to Christianity, which the
bishop Augustin was required to answer, how it was that such great
and manifest evils had befallen the church under Christian princes, who
for the most part were diligent observers of the Christian religion
Augustin, it is true, in his answer does not undertake (as would have
been best) to dispute the position that such princes had been diligent
observers of Christianity ; but what he says tacitly supposes that he
did not himself concede this position, and in some measure touches the
merits of the case, although he does not enter deeply into it. “ It
were to be wished,” he says, “‘ that something, at least, had been said
of the conduct of the earlier emperors: thus examples would have been
adduced of a similar or even worse character under emperors who were
not Christians ; and it might be seen that this is the fault of the men,
and not of the doctrine ; or else, not of the emperors themselves, but
1 The Pagan Apollonius, in the Consul-
tationes Zachzi Christiani et Apollonii phi-
losophi, 1. I. c.28: Cur imagines hominum,
vel ceris pictas, vel metallis depictas, sub re-
gum reyerentia, etiam publica adoratione
veneramini, et, ut ipsi pradicatis, Deo tan-
tum honorem debitum etiam hominibus
datis? D’Achery, spicileg. T. I.
2L.c. and cons. the work De promiss.
et praedict. Dei, Pars V. De dimidio tempo-
ris, where, in c. VII, this transfer of pagan
adulation is rebuked : Aiterna cum dicitur,
que temporalis est, utique nomen est blas-
phemiz: cum mortales licet reges, in ea
dicantur Divi, cisque supplices dicant: nu-
mini vestro altaribus vestris, perennitati
vestree, et csetera, quee vanitas, non veritas
tradit, atque exsecrabilia sunt.
8 Augustin. Sermo XV. ὁ 9. Amurca
per publicum currit, oleum autem ad sedem
suam occultos transitus habet; et cum oc-
culte transeat, in magnitudine apparet.
4 See Augustin. ep. 136 ad Marcellin.
5 Christianam religionem maxima de parte
servantes. This was just the evil of it, that
the Pagans heard such princes extolled as
zealous Christians, that such incorrect, such
meagre notions were entertained of what
belonged to the observance of Christianity ;
that zeal for forms of belief, for the exter-
nal interests of the church, for outward
matters of the church, were confounded
with vital Christianity.
92 PAGAN OBJECTIONS TO CHRISTIANITY.
of others, without whom the emperors could have done nothing.” ! The
position itself he disputes in his excellent apologetical work, ‘ 716 city
of God,’ where he says: “If all the kings of the earth, all the
nations, all the great, and all judges ; if young and old together would
hear and obey the doctrines of Christ, such a people would at once par-
ticipate of all civil prosperity in this present life, and of eternal bless-
edness in the next. But,’’ he adds, ‘‘ because one man listens to these
doctrines, and another despises them ; and because the great mass are
more attached to the vices which flatter their corruption, than to the
salutary rigor of the virtues; the servants of Christ, whether they be
kings or subjects, rich or poor, freemen or slaves, endure, if need be,
even the worst of governments ; and, by that patient endurance, con-
tribute to prepare for themselves a place in that holiest and most ex-
alted community of angels, in that heavenly city where the will of God
is law.” 2 Augustin, moreover, very justly remarks, that the fountain
of those evils which were improperly charged on Christianity, was to
be traced to a far earlier time, — to the corruption of the Roman state,
which had been introduced by earthly prosperity, and which had been
checked by no earthly counterpoise. He justly appeals here to the
testimony of the older Roman authors themselves ; and, convinced that
the Christian religion furnished the only thorough remedy for the evil,
he thanks God that he had bestowed the means of a radical cure pre-
cisely at the time of the greatest corruption, whence mankind would
have ever sunk lower in ruin. ‘“ Thanks be to the Lord our God,”
he exclaims, “who sent ps his own special assistance against those
evils.” ὃ
Another objection was urged against Christianity on political grounds,
which sprung, however, not from any confounding of the precepts of
Christianity with the behavior of those who called themselves Chris-
tians ; but partly from a misapprehension of these precepts themselves,
and partly from the necessary opposition between the more political way
of thinking peculiar to antiquity and the theocratical and moral spirit
of Christianity. The Pagans, for instance, supposed that the Chris-
tian doctrine was irreconcilable with the fundamental principles of a
state, and that no state could subsist in connection with it; since the
precepts of the sermon on the Mount forbade war even on the justest
occasions, and thus the state must be exposed to every kind of insult
and wrong from the barbarians. ‘To this Augustin replies, that these
precepts had reference to the disposition of heart, which, in Christians,
should always be the same, rather than to the outward actions. They
required that the heart should constantly cherish the same disposition
of patience and good will, while the outward actions must differ accord-
1 Ep. 138 ad Marcellin. the civil virtues could effect even without
2 De civitaie Dei, 1. II. c. 19. the true religion, that it might appear evi-
8 Augustin, in the letter above cited, dent that men, when this is also added,
(§ 171,) comparing the effects of Christi- become the citizens of another state, whose
anity with the civic virtues of the ancient king is the truth, whose laws are love, and
Roman republic, finely remarks: “Thus whose duration is eternity.”
God showed, in the example of that flour- 4 Augustin. ep. 136
ishing empire of the Romans, how much
HINDRANCES TO THE SPREAD OF CHRISTIANITY. 93
ing as the best interests of those towards whom we are thus disposed
require.! 70 those who maintained that Christianity necessarily con-
flicted with the welfare of states, he says: “" Let them give us such
warriors as the Christian doctrine requires they should be; such sub-
jects ; such husbands and wives; such fathers, sons, masters, and serv-
ants ; such kings and judges ; such payers and receivers of tribute as
they ought to be according to the precepts of the Christian doctrine ;—
and would they still venture to assert, that this doctrine is opposed to
the state? Nay, would they not rather confess without hesitation, that,
if it were followed, it would prove the salvation of the state ?”’
The Pagans also labored to show in the historical way, that it was by
forsaking the national gods, to whom the Roman empire owed its in-
crease and prosperity, and by the spread of Christianity, the state had
been ruined. Such was the aim of Eunapius and of Zosimus in their
historical works, written in the fifth century. The Spanish presbyter,
Paulus Orosius of Tarraco, in Spain, at the request of Augustin, wrote,
in the year 417,2 his historical compend, for the purpose of refuting
this charge by facts of history ; and for the same reason Augustin him-
self was led to write his profound work concerning the origin, char-
acter, progress, and ultimate aim, of the city of God.
C. Various Obstacles which hindered the Progress of Christianity
among the Heathen ; various Means and Methods by which it was
promoted ; and the different Kinds of Conversion.
The obstacles which, in this particular period, hindered the progress
of Christianity among the Heathen, varied among the different classes
of the Heathen, according to their different tendencies of mind and
feeling. Some to heathen superstition united the consciousness of
great crime, and sought in the former an antidote against the stings of
the latter. They were unwilling to abandon the superstition in which
they had been used to find so convenient a prop; and a religion pre-
senting moral claims had no attractions for them, unless when unwor-
thy priests, who made Christianity itself to be only another Paganism,
had either lowered, or concealed from them, these moral claims, for the
purpose of converting avowed Pagans into nominal Christians. Others,
who, to the eyes of men or in their own superficial view, had led blame-
less lives, imagined they possessed all they needed in their own reli-
gion, and especially that they needed not a Redeemer. In this
delusion they were more confirmed, when, instead of examining their
hearts by the demands of the holy law in their conscience, or of com-
paring themselves with real and living Christians, of whom perhaps
they never saw an example within the circle of their acquaintance,
they contrasted themselves with the vastly greater number of nominal
Christians. It is of such Augustin speaks:* ‘ You will find,” he says,
1 Augustin. ep. 138, Ista preecepta magis quod eis videatur prodesse posse, quibus
ad prparationem cordis, que intus est, bene velle debemus.
pertinere, quam ad opus, quod in aperto fit, 2 Adversus Paganos historiarum libri
ut teneatur in secreto animi patientia cum VII.
benevolentia, in manifesto autem id fiat, 3 De civitate Dei, libri XXII.
4In Ps. 21. Enarrat. II. ὁ 2
94 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAGANS.
‘many Pagans refusing to embrace Christianity, because they are satis-
fied with their own good lives. One should live, say they, uprightly.
What further precept can Christ give us? We lead good lives al-
ready: what need have we of Christ? We commit no murder, theft,
nor robbery ; we covet no man’s possessions, we are guilty of no breach
of the matrimonial bond. Let something worthy of censure be found
in our lives, and whoever can point it out may make us Christians.”
Comparing himself with the nominal Christians: “ Why would you
persuade me to become a Christian? I have been defrauded. by a
Christian; I never defrauded any man; a Christian has broken
his oath to me, and I never broke my word to any man.”! Others,
men of profounder feelings, men who were animated by a loftier moral
idea, and who perceived the contrast between this and their own life,
sought for peace in doctrines which no doubt had sprung from the
universal religious sense of mankind, — those doctrines which formed the
system of the Neo-Platonists concerning a God who would purify from
the stains that adhered to them, and free from their chains, the strug-
gling and suffering souls which, derived from himself, were fettered in
the bonds of a sensual nature, and sighed after their original source.”
With this they united a theory which taught various mysterious out-
ward methods of expiation and cleansing, whereby men could draw
down upon themselves the redeeming and sanctifying powers of the
deity to purify and preserve both body and soul; where, however, it
was doubtless at the same time assumed, that the right disposition
existed within.? To many this presentiment of a redeeming God be-
came afterwards, when they perceived the insufficiency of those out-
ward means of expiation, a point of transition to Christianity.
Again, from the rude and uncultivated mass who were wholly sunk
in blind superstition, we should distinguish the men of education. In
particular, there were then among the Pagans in the large cities, mul-
titudes of half-educated men, from the rhetorical schools, with whom
certain rhetorical flourishes, a certain round of fine set phrases, which
they had learned to repeat, passed for a genuine culture of mind and
heart ; men whose taste, trained to.effeminacy from their youth up-
wards in those showy and superficial schools, had contracted a disrel-
ish for all vigorous and sound nourishment, both of mind and heart.
The difficulty of approaching such persons increased in the same pro-
1Jn Psalm. 25. Enarrat. IT. § 14.
rant. Also Simplicius holds that, along
2 Ζεύς ῥύσιος, καϑάρσιος͵ μειλίχιος. See
with the inner spiritual purification of the
the Hymns of Synesius.
8. g. Longinianus, a Pagan of North
Africa, writes to Augustin, who had ques-
tioned him with regard to his own opinion
on the right way which leads to God, (ep.
234:) Via est in Deum melior, qua vir
bonus piis, justis, veris, castis dictis factis-
que probatus, et Deorum comitatu vallatus,
in Deum intentione animi mentisque ire
festinat. Via est, que purgati antiquorum
sacrorum piis preeceptis, expiationibusque
purissimis, et abstemiis observationibus de-
cocti, anima et corpore constantes deprope-
soul by the rational knowledge of God and
a life in harmony with nature, the external
means of purification handed down from
the gods, by which the body is sanctified as
the organ of the soul, are also necessary
in order that the whole man may partake
of the ϑεῖα ἐλλώμψις. Simplicii in Hpictet.
enchiridion, p. 218. It must be confessed,
that a great deal may be found here which
is analogous to the church doctrine of that
period respecting the magical sanctifying
effects of the sacraments.
THE HALF EDUCATED. 95
portion with their shallow and superficial way of thinking, and their
dulness of sense to all the deeper moral and religious wants of their
nature. Such men could put up with nothing but that which came
recommended to them in beautiful phrases. The plainness and sim-
plicity of the sacred word was to them reason enough for despising it.
And, although they knew very little about philosophy themselves, yet
they wanted a philosophical religion, and reproached the Christians
on account of their blind credulity. Of such, Theodoretus says:
** Some who have read the poets and orators, some who have also had
a taste of Plato’s eloquence, despise the sacred scriptures, because they
are not set out with beautiful phrases; and they are ashamed to learn
the truth from fishermen. And this pride is found in men who pos-
sess but a superficial knowledge of the Greek philosophy, —who have
only scraped together, from one quarter and another, a sort of literary
medley.1 Of such, Augustin, in his beautiful tract, entitled, ‘‘ A guide
to the instruction of the different classes of Pagan catechumens,” says
that their teachers must accustom them to hear scripture read, with-
out despising it because its language is so simple and free from all
rhetorical embellishments.? It is to such, Theodoretus says:° ‘It was
God’s will that all men, Greeks and barbarians, learned and unlearned,
shoemakers, weavers, and other mechanics, moreover slaves, beggars,
women, both such as live in the abundance of all things, and such as
depend on the work of their own hands, should draw from the same
fountain of salvation: for this reason he employed fishermen, and one
who was a shoemaker, (he should have said a tent-maker, Paul,) as his
instruments ; and he let their language remain as it was in the begin-
ning, but poured through the same the clear streams of heavenly wis-
dom.”
Chrysostom once heard a Christian, in disputing with a rhetorically
educated Pagan of this class, contend that, in the elegant and proper
use of the Greek language, Paul was superior to Plato. He censured
the Christian who so badly understood how to defend his own cause ;
since the very point he was chiefly concerned to make out, was that
the apostles were men destitute of-human learning and art, in order to
show that it was not human power, but the power of God, which oper-
ated through them.
Among the cultivated Pagans, the following view of religion exten-
sively prevailed ; that with the diversity of nations and the varieties of
the human race was necessarily connected the diversity of religions.
There was, indeed, but one original divine Essence ; but the union
between this highest one and the endlessly diversified forms of hu-
manity, could only be mediated through certain higher natures which
had emanated from that original Essence, viz. the gods, under whose
dominion the several portions of the earth were distributed. Or again,
1 Theodoret. Grae. affect. curat. Dispu- illos doctissimos. Docendi sint scripturas
tat. I. p. 696, T. IV. andire divinas, ne sordeat eis solidum elo-
2 De catechizand. rudib. c. IX. Sunt qui- quium, quia non est inflatum.
dam de scholis usitatissimis grammatico- 8 Disputat. VIII. pag. 899.
rum oratorumque venientes, quos neque 4 Chrysostom. ep. ad Corinth. I. H. I
inter idiotas numerare audeas neque inter
90 EDUCATED PAGANS.
they conceived all the different religions to be only different forms of
the revelation of one and the same divine substance —to be one es-
sence in manifold forms ; and it was precisely by this manifoldness, as
they supposed, that God was most highly honored. There could not
be one single way alone which conducted, exclusive of all others, to
the supreme, hidden, original Essence: it was only by different ways
that men could attain to the most hidden mystery of the divine Being.
Accordingly says Simplicius,! God is everywhere present, with all his
divine powers; but limited men, who are confined to their several de-
terminate spots of the earth, could not grasp the immense whole. The
divine powers, like natural gifts, must be variously distributed. Ac-
cordingly the Neo-Platonic Pagan philosopher Proclus worshipped
Greek and Oriental divinities, according to the peculiar Greek and
Oriental modes of worship; it being his wont to say, that the philoso-
pher ought not to bmd himself to the observance of this or that na-
tional form of worship, but, as the common hierophant for the whole
world, be familiar with every form of religion. ‘*The rivalship of the
different religions,” says Themistius to the emperor Jovian,’ “ directly
contributes to stir up zeal in worship. There are different ways —
some more difficult, others easier ; some rougher, others more plain and
even— which lead to the same goal. If you allow but one way to be
good, and hedge up the others, emulation is at an end. God desires
no such agreement among men. As Heraclitus says, Nature loves to
hide herself, and still more than nature, the Creator of it, — whom we
reverence particularly on this account, because the knowledge of him
does not lie on the surface, and is not to be acquired without toil. As
you have various ranks and conditions among your subjects, who all in
like manner depend on you, and look up to you—so, be assured, the
Lord of the universe also takes pleasure in variety and in the diversi-
ties of condition. It is his will, that the Syrians should worship him
in one way, the Greeks in another, and the Egyptians in still another.
And, again, the Syrians are not agreed among themselves, but are
subdivided into different minor sects. None have precisely the same
notions with the others. Why, then, should we try to force that which
is impossible in the nature of things?’ In like manner writes Symma-
chus, in the above-cited Relatio ad Valentinianum: “It is reason-
able that we should hold that Being whom all worship, to be one and
the same. We all see the same stars; there is a common cope of
heaven; the same universe contains us. What matters it in what
way each finds the truth? . By one way it is impossible to reach so hid-
den a matter.” Ifno regard were paid to the essential opposition be-
tween Christian Theism and Paganism, it might seem as if Christianity
too easily admitted of being taken up into this eclecticism, and might
find its place along with the others as one of the manifold forms of re-
ligion. But the peculiar essence of Christianity struggled against
everything like this; and on this account it was exposed the more to
1 In Epictet. enchiridion, p. 219, 220. 2 See Marini vita Preeli, p. 74.
® See the above-cited discourse, p. 67 and 68.
FALSE CONVERSIONS. 97
the reproach of a stiff and uncompromising intolerance. Τὺ substituted
an objective, firm, and steadfast word of God in place of the impure
and barely subjective presentiment, feeling, and opinion of man, which
confounded godlike and ungodlike; and it made that divine word a
judge of the thoughts and feelings. Ambrosius says rightly to Sym-
machus, ‘‘ Come and learn on the earth the walk in heaven. Here
we live, and there is our walk. Let God, my Creator, teach me himself
the mysteries of heaven. Let not man teach me, who knows not even
himself.”
It is true, the religious way of thinking we have just described, pos-
sessed some truth at bottom; which truth, however, Christianity alone
teaches us how to separate from the falsehood with which it is associated.
That free development of the individualities of human character in
religion is to be found in Christianity, as it had nowhere been seen be-
fore: but it is here subordinated to a higher, all-transforming princi-
ple; and by this it was to be gradually purged from all intermixture
of the ungodlike element. ΤῸ that equalization of all forms of religion
which sprung out of the principle of the deification of nature, an error
of the contrary kind did, indeed, oppose itself at that time in the
Christian church. ‘This error had its ground, however, not in Chris-
tianity itself, but in human inventions, confounded with Christianity
—in a narrow dogmatism, which’ would adhere to one fixed and
determinate form of the human apprehension of Christianity, which
form could, no more than any thing else human, be exempt from error
and adapted to all human minds and all stages of the development of
Christian faith and Christian knowledge. Yet this form was to be
maintained as complete, eternally valid, the only true way of appre-
hending Christianity ; and all minds forced into this one yoke. As
opposed to this other extreme, the erroneous, pagan way of thinking
might the more easily seem to present a semblance of truth.
As the relation of the different classes of Pagans to Christianity
varied, so also the ways were various by which they were led to em-
brace the gospel ; and in the great variety of these leadings was shown
the manifold wisdom of God. But we must first distinguish in this
period between conversion in the proper and Christian sense — an in-
ward change of disposition wrought by Christianity, and the mere out-
ward adoption of Christianity; that is, of its name and ceremonial
observances, —or an exchange of open, undisguised Paganism, for a
nominal Christianity coverg a pagan way of thinking. It must be
evident, from what has already been observed respecting the spread of
Christianity under the Christian emperors, that in this period the num-
ber of conversions of the latter kind far exceeded those of the former.
And this is confirmed by the testimony of those church-teachers who
were right earnest in bringing about conversions of the genuine stamp.
Thus Augustin, for instance, in remarking on John 6: 26, complains:
“‘ How many seek Jesus only that he may benefit them in earthly mat-
ters! One man has a lawsuit,—so he seeks the intercession of the
clergy ; another is oppressed by his superior, —so he takes refuge in
the church. Others are peelings one in this way, and another in that,
VOL. II.
98 DIFFERENT WAYS OF CONVERSION.
to be interceded for in some quarter where they have but little influ-
ence themselves. ‘The church is daily full of such persons. Seldom
is Jesus sought for Jesus’ sake.” 1
Doubtless it might happen, that many, whose sole intention was
-hypocritically to put on the profession of Christianity, would be led
farther than they meant to be, by some bishop or catechist, who under-
stood his calling and its duties. Such an one first took pains to inform ἡ
himself, in the way prescribed by Augustin in his excellent guide to the
catechist, (the tract de catechizandis rudibus,) of the reasons which in-
duced the Pagan to seek baptism. If he showed that he was actuated
by impure motives, such an enlightened teacher would gently repel
him. Or if, which was most often the case, he answered the inquiries
of the catechist in conformity with his own hypocritical disposition, still
the catechist endeavored to give his conversation such a turn as to
reach the heart of the heathen man. “‘ Often,’ says the bishop Au-
gustin, — speaking here from the experience which must belong to all
men of the like spirit, —‘“‘ often the mercy of God so comes to the
help of the catechist’s ministry, that the Pagan, moved by his discourse,
resolves to become that which he meant to feign.”? But if Pagans of
this character came to one of the great majority of those ecclesiastics,
men wholly without experience in the trial of spirits, or who were only
interested to multiply the number of nominal Christians, they were re-
ceived at once into the same number without farther question. Yet
even these, after being incorporated with the visible church, might be
led by what was there presented to them; by the impressions which
they involuntarily received ; by the society of Christians; by partici-
pating in the acts of worship; by some word of the sermon to which
they might be listening with others on some great festival, — by such
or other means, —to find in the church a good of a higher kind than
any which they had sought for in it. Hence, Augustin remarks:
‘¢ Many, who presented themselves to the church with such impure mo-
tives, were, notwithstanding, reformed after they had once come into
τ. ὃ. But, assuredly, no one was warranted for this reason to counte-
nance such hypocrisy, to approve the evil, that good might come out of
it. And beyond all doubt, the number was far greater of those who
grew hardened in that worldly sense by which, from the first, they had
profaned a holy profession, and who were thus the means of introducing
into the church a great mass of corruption. Among the fruits of such
mere outward conversions were those who were found, soon afterwards,
at the altars of the false gods. We have proof of this in the laws
1JIn John. Tract. 25, 6. 10. Augustin sis, § 4, remarks: “A man may present
also notices as outward reasons which led
many to adopt Christianity, (p. 47,) Ut
majorem amicum conciliet, ut ad concupi-
tam uxorem perveniat, ut aliquam pressu-
ram hujus seculi evadat.
2 De catechiz. rudib. c. 5. Sape adest
misericordia Dei, per ministerium catechi-
zantis, ut sermone commotus jam fieri velit,
quod decreverat fingere. So also Cyril of
Jerusalem, in the prologue to his Cateche-
himself for baptism to please his wife, a
wife to please her husband, a servant to
please his master, a friend to please his
friend. And now it is incumbent on the
catechist, through whatever motives the in-
dividual may have come, to lead him to find
in the church something higher and better
than he was seeking for.”
3 Augustin. 8. 47. Multi etiam sic in-
trantes corriguntur ingressi.
TRUE AND FALSE. 99
enacted: against apostates in the reign of the emperor Theodosius (see
above.) -
Yet these gross worldly motives were not the only ones which led to
hypocritical conversions; as, indeed, there were many different stages
of hypocrisy in these conversions, according as the consciousness of
deception was more or less present; according as intentional fraud or
unconscious self-deception more or less predominated. Many were first
awakened by outward impressions, which might lead them to a super-
stition which had simply changed its color, as well as from superstition
to the faith. Many supposed they had seen miraculous effects pro-
duced by the sign of the cross, similar to what had been witnessed,
though under different circumstances, by Constantine ; others, who had
heard of the divine power of Christ, driven in some strait to seek for
assistance from the unknown God, believed they had seen him yvisi-
bly manifested, and that they were thus delivered.2 To others,
some occurrence of the day, which was afterwards forgotten, but
which had made an impression on their souls, of which, however,
they were but vaguely conscious, would re-appear in the form of a
dream, where they imagined they saw Christ, or some martyr, threat-
ening, warning, admonishing them. Im all such cases, however, it
might be, that the individual was seeking in Christianity only for some
earthly good, although he was not hoping to obtain it from man, like
the class of hypocritical professors first mentioned, but from God. Not
love, but fear, which easily creates idols, or not the love which is bent
on heavenly things, but a material craving after miraculous revelations
to the senses, which he hoped to find in-Christianity, led him to the
church. Much depended also on the circumstatice whether he found
a teacher who could point him away from sensuous to spiritual things.
According to Augustin’s directions to the catechist, it was the duty of
the latter to take advantage of such communications to impress it on
the Heathen’s heart, how great was God’s care for men; but then he
should also aim to divert his mind from such wonders and dreams, and
lead it in the more certain way, and to the surer testimonies of holy
scripture ; — he should inform him, that God would not awaken him by
such signs and dreams, if a safer way had not been already prepared for
him in holy scripture, where he was not to seek for visible miracles,
but accustom himself to wait for invisible ones ;— where he would be
taught of God not in the visions of sleep, but while awake.? But when
such teachers in Christianity were wanting, individuals of this class
might easily be so misled, as merely to substitute in place of the pagan
superstition, another under the Christian dress.
It so happened, that many had their fears excited by particular out-
ward impressions, or by the inner excitements of conscience.* They
felt the need of pardon; but they had no right conception of the for-
1 See the entire Titulus VII. of the 1.16, - 4 Augustin. de catechizand. rudib. ο. V.
Cod. Theodos. Comp. the decrees of Siri- Rarissime quippe accidit, immo vero nun-
cius ad Himerium, of the year 385, § 4. quam, ut quisquam veniat volens fieri Chris-
2 See 6. g. Paulin. Nolan. ep. 36 ad Ma- tianus, qui non sit aliquo Dei timore per-
carium. culsus.
3 De catechiz. rudib. c. VI.
100 EASY CONVERSIONS.
giveness of sins, or of what must be done on man’s part in order to
obtain it. They dreamed of obtaining at once, by the opus operatum of
baptism, the magical extinction of their sins, although they still con-
tinued in the practice of them. Nov, in case such individuals came to
a bishop or catechist, of the character required in the above-cited work
of Augustin, such a teacher would avail himself of the disturbed con-
science, which had brought them to him, as a favorable opportunity for
preaching to them repentance, and of leading them from the way of a
hypocritical to an honest conversion. But unhappily, there were bish-
ops whose only wish was to make the conversion to Christianity a right
easy thing for the Pagans; and whose instructions, therefore, served
much rather to confirm them in this wrong state of mind, than to draw
them away from it. They merely told them what they would have to
believe in order to be Christians ; but they were silent as to the obliga-
tions to a holy life which flowed out of this faith, lest they might thus
be deterred from baptism. Hence they baptised even those who lived
in open sin, and who plainly enough manifested that it was not their
purpose to forsake it. They imagined, that when these were once bap-
tised and introduced into the fellowship of the church, it was then time
enough to admonish them against sin. These corrupt modes of pro-
cedure originated partly in the erroneous notions of worth attached
to a barely outward baptism and outward church fellowship; and
partly in the false notions of what constituted faith, and of the relation
of the doctrines of faith and of morals in Christianity to each other.}
Against this mode of procedure, and the errors out of which it
sprang, Augustin wrote his excellent work de fide et operibus. He
says here, § 9: ‘ What more befitting time can be found for one to
hear about the faith which he ought to cherish, and how he ought to
live, than that time when, with a soul full of longing desire, he pants
after the sacrament of faith that conducts to salvation? What other
season can be a more appropriate one, for learnmg what manner of walk
is suited to so great a sacrament, which they are longing to receive?
Will it be after they have received it; even though after baptism they
should be in the practice of great sins,—even though they have
never as yet become new men, but remain in their former guilt? Then,
by a strange perversion of language, it would first be said to them:
‘Put on the new man ;’—and then, after they have done so, —‘ Put
off the old man ;’ whereas the apostle, observing the proper order of
‘ 1They imagined that such persons, by
means of that outward baptism and the
outward fellowship of the church, by means
of that which they called faith, had at least
a hope of salvation beyond that of the Pa-
gans, although, ere they could attain to it,
it would be necessary for them to pass
through a refining fire, ignis purgatorius.
Against such bishops, animated with this
false zeal for multiplying the numbers of the
Christians, Chrysostom takes ground in his
tract πρὸς τὸν Anuntpiov περὶ κατανύξεως,
T. VI. ed. Savil. ἢ. 145. “Our Lord utters
it as a precept, Give not that which is holy
unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls
before swine. But through foolish vanity
and ambition we have subverted this com-
mand too, by admitting those corrupt, un-
believing men, who are full of evil, before
they have given us any satisfactory evi-
dence of a change of mind, to partake of
the sacraments. It is on this account many
of those who were thus baptized, have fal-
len away, and have occasioned much scan
dal.”
NEW PLATONISM. 101
things, says: ‘ Put off the old man, and put on the new,’ Coloss. 3:
9,10; and the Lord himself exclaims: ‘No man putteth a piece of
new cloth unto an old garment; neither do men put new wine into old
bottles,’ Matth. 9: 16, 17.”
_ The advocates of these measures alleged in their defence, that in the
letters of the apostles the doctrines of faith preceded those of morals.
To this Augustin replied: ‘ This might have some weight, if it were
the fact, that there are particular writings of the apostles addressed to
the catechumens, and other particular epistles addressed to the baptised ;
and in the former nothing but the doctrines of faith were presented ;
in the latter nothing but the doctrine of morals. But the truth is, all
the epistles are addressed to Christians already baptised. Why, then,
do we find the two things combined? We must grant, both belong to
the complete sum of Christian doctrine ; but that they have commonly
placed the doctrines of faith before the precepts of living, because a
holy life presupposes the faith out of which it springs.” Next, they
defended their mode of proceeding by appealing to the example of the
apostle Peter, who preached nothing but faith to the three thousand
who were baptized after his first discourse, and who, when they asked
him what they should do, simply replied: ‘* Repent and be baptized,
every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of
sins.” Acts 2: 38. To this Augustin replied, that in the requisi-
tion of repentance, was in fact implied already the requisition to put
off the old man and to put on the new; and the remark in verse 40, that
Peter with many other words testified and exhorted, saying: ‘ Save
yourselves from this untoward generation,” certainly supposes that
they were required to renounce every sinful practice which belonged to
the character of that*sinful generation.
In opposition to the practice of citing exclusively those passages of
scripture which speak solely of the preaching of faith in Christ, or of
Christ crucified, as Acts 8: 87, and 2 Cor. 2: 2; 3: 10, Augustin very
justly remarks: ‘‘ One important part of preaching faith in Christ is,
to teach how the members must be constituted, which he secks in or-
der to be their head; which he forms, loves, redeems, and conducts to
eternal life. An important part of preaching Christ crucified is, to
teach how we ought to be crucified with him to the world,— conse-
quently, every thing that relates to the duty of self-denial. By that
faith in Christ which Paul makes the foundation of the whole Christian
life, he does not understand such faith as wicked spirits also might
possess, but that faith by which Christ dwells in the heart, — that liv-
ing faith which works by love, and comprehends in itself every other
grace.”
Many educated Pagans were conducted to the faith, not at once, by
means of some sudden excitement, but after they had been led by par-
ticular providences, by the great multitude of Christians around them,
to entertain doubts of the Pagan religion they had received from their
ancestors, and to enter upon a serious examination of the several sys-
tems of religion within their reach. They read the holy scriptures
and the writings of the Christian fathers; they proposed their doubts,
VOL. 11. i
102 NEW PLATONISM.
their difficulties to Christian friends,! and finally made up their minds
to go to the bishop. Many came, by slow degrees, through many
intervening steps, to Christianity ; and the Neo-Platonic, religious idea-
lism formed one stage in particular by which they were brought
nearer to Christian ideas, as is seen in the examples of a Synesius and
an Augustin. ‘This system made them familiar with the doctrine of a _
Triad. Although this doctrine, in its speculative matter and its specula-
tive tendency, was altogether different from the Christian doctrine,
which is in its essence practical throughout; yet they were thereby
made attentive to Christian ideas. They were conducted still nearer to
practical Christianity by the doctrine that man needed to be redeemed
and purified from the might of the ὕλη, which not only fettered and
clogged, but corrupted that element of his soul which stands related to
God. It is true, they believed only in a general redeeming power of
God, which was imparted to individuals in proportion to their worth ;
or the communication of which was connected with various religious in-
stitutions under different forms. But, notwithstanding, all this was
calculated gradually to pave the way both for the speculative mind and
for the heart to embrace Christianity ; even though Christianity might
be regarded at first only as one of the manifold forms of the revelation
of the divine, as we see illustrated in the case of Synesius.
In the idea of a divine Logos or Nus, the eternal revealer of God,
these Platonicians would perhaps find themselves at home; not so
with regard to the faith in the historical Christ crucified. They would
have been pleased to place Christ on a level with those enlightened
sages by whom the divine Logos had revealed himself under different
forms, and who, by the fleshly multitude, too prone to cleave to the per-
sonal being, had been misunderstood. But to abide by this historical
Christ alone, to seek in him their salvation, this was requiring too much
from their speculative idealism.? Augustin, in his confessions, (1. vii.
ὃ 13,) after having described this state of mind from his own expe-
rience, since it was from a position of this sort that he himself passed
over to the simple gospel, says: ‘¢ Thou hast hid these things from the
wise and prudent, and revealed them unto babes, that so they who feel
themselves weary and heavy laden might come unto him, and he might
give them rest, because he is meek and lowly of spirit. But those
who are inflated with the pride of a doctrine that styles itself sublime,
hear not the call of him who says, ‘ Learn of me, for I am meek and
lowly of spirit, and ye shall find rest to your souls.” Matth. 11: 29.”
Yet when those to whem Christianity appeared at first as one pecu-
liar revelation of the divine, codrdinate to other forms of manifesta-
tion, and not as the absolute religion of humanity, were induced to
1 Aucustin. de catechizand. rudib. § 12.
Tales non eadem hora, qua Christiani fient,
and noble spirit, so full of earnest longing
after the truth, said in a letter to Lavater,
sed antea solent omnia diligenter inquirere,
et motus animi sui cum quibus possunt
communicare atque discutere.
2 Many of these, had they been as clear to
themselves, as honest and humble, as was
Jacobi, might have said what that devout
that Christianity met their wants, so far as
it was mysticism, but that on that very ac-
count it was the more difficult for them to
get along with the historical faith. See Ja-
cobi’s Auserlesenen Briefwechsel, 11, B
S. 55.
~*~
CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE. 103
read the holy semptures, and to attend divine worship in Christian
churches, so far as this stood free and open to the unbaptized, (i. e.
the reading of the scriptures and the sermon,) they might, by their
own study of the scriptures, and through numberless immediate im-
pressions derived from the church life, be let more deeply into the
Christian truth than they had divined of it, until at last they found
the redeeming God only in Christ; and the ideal Christ, by means of
their own ward experience, became to them the real one. Thus Sy-
nesius, for example, came from the position above described still nearer
to Christianity, when, in the year 399, having been sent to Constanti-
nople, as a delegate from his native city Cyrene, driven to a great
strait, where he was abandoned of all human help, he visited the
church, spent much time in prayer, and in this place felt the near
presence of God. Thus he was first led to desire baptism ;— and he
was doubtless brought to a still more profound acquaintance with the
deep things of Christianity by the experiences of the episcopal office,
which he had reluctantly been induced to assume. Thus it happened
to Augustin, who from this position came to the study of the apostle
Paul, in the expectation of finding here the same things that he had
found in Platonism, only in a different form; instead of which, he
found such a spirit as brought about the great ferment and crisis in his
inner life.
II. SpreAD OF CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE Limits oF THE Roma
EMPIRE.
Among the means which contributed to further the progress of
Christianity in nations not subjected to the Roman dominion, may be
mentioned first, the commercial intercourse of nations. Along with the
goods of the earth, the highest blessings of the Spirit also were thus
often transmitted to distant lands. In the next place, many of those
monks who lived in the Lybian and the Syrian deserts, on the borders
of barbarian tribes, acquired, by the godly character which shone forth
in their lives, and which exercised a mighty power even over those
rude minds, the respect and confidence of the wandering nomadic
hordes; and they would doubtless avail themselves of the opportunity
thus afforded, of bringing home the gospel to their hearts. Even that
which seemed to threaten destruction to the church, must contribute
to its extension. Many Christians who had been driven by the perse-
cution of Dioclesian out of Egypt, Lybia, and Syria, took refuge with
the neighboring barbarian tribes,! and there enjoyed that freedom in
the worship of God which they could not find in the Roman empire.
The Pagans murmured, when they saw the idolatrous homage they
had been used to pay to the “ eternal city” exhibited by history in
its nothingness, and the colossal creation which had sprung forth from
Rome crumbling daily to ruin. But through Christianity, to which
they ascribed all the public misfortunes, a new and more glorious
creation was to be called forth out of the ruins of the old one. Both
1 Euseb. vit. Constant. 1. 11. c. 53.
΄
104 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
the hostile and the peaceful relations of the Romans with the rude
tribes, particularly those of German origin, which were the first, after
the general migration of races, to take an important part in the grand
historical events of the world, contributed to bring these tribes to their
first acquaintance with the gospel. A man who lived in the early part
of the fifth century, and was an eye-witness of these events, — the au-
thor of the work ‘de vocatione gentium, (probably Leo the Great, af-
terwards bishop of Rome, but then a deacon,)! remarks finely on this
point: “‘The very weapons by which the world is upturned, -must
serve to promote the ends of Christian grace. Many sons of the
church, who had been taken captive by the enemy, made their masters
the servants of the gospel of Christ, and were teachers of the faith to
those whose slaves they had become by the fortune of war. But other
barbarians, who aided the Romans in war, learned among our people
what they could not have learned at their own homes, and returned to
their native land carrying with them the instruction they had received
in Christianity.”
We turn first to Asia. In the former period, it was remarked that
Christianity had already made progress in Persia. The number of
Christians had gone on increasing among all ranks until the beginning
of the present period. At the head of the Christian church in Persia,
stood the bishop of the royal residence and chief city of the ancient
Parthian kingdom, namely, Seleucia Ctesiphon. But the Magians,
the Persian sacerdotal caste, applied every means to counteract the
spread of Christianity ; and the Jews, who were thickly scattered over
the Persian empire, joined also in these hostile machinations.
The emperor Constantine recommended the Christians to the pro-
tection of the Persian emperor, Shapur (Sapor) II., taking occasion of
an embassy which the latter prince sent to him.? "His letter contains
nothing which alludes to the existence as yet of any persecution against
the Christians in the Persian empire. At all events, it is certain, ac-
cording to the more accurate chronology of the oriental accounts,
that the beginning of the most violent and harassing persecution must
not be placed, as the Greek writers on church history assert, under
the reign of Constantine, but under that of his successor. But, if some
oriental notices® are entitled to credit, this persecution was preceded
by two others of shorter duration, in which many Christians suffered
martyrdom — one in the year 330,* the other in the year 342.° Still
it may be a question, whether those documents are worthy of entire
confidence, and whether their narratives are chronologically accurate.
17. IT. ¢. 32. 5 In the 30th year of hisreign. The pas-
2 Euseb. IV. 9.
8 See the two Chaldee documents ex-
tracted from the history of the Persian
martyrs, in Stephan. Euod. Assemani acta
martyrum orientalium et occidentalium ap-
pendix. p. 215.
4 In the 18th year of the reign of Shapur,
the beginning of which should be placed,
according to Tdeler’s chronology, (see B. II.
S. 558,) in the year 312.
sage in the Acts of the second persecution,
(Assemani, I. c. 227,) where Sapor, address-
ing the Christians, says: “What God is
better than Hormuzd, or mightier than
the terrible Ahriman,” is hardly in agree-
ment with the Persian relivious ideas ; for,
according to these, Ahriman, the object of
abhorrence, would scarcely be mentioned in
such connection with Ormuzd.
PERSECUTION IN PERSIA. 105
The credible records of the principal persecution above mentioned, con-
tain not a hint that others had preceded it. Moreover, the Greek
church historians, notwithstanding the anachronism just mentioned,
speak of but one persecution, and make no mention of any before this.
They state, that at the time of the commencement of that principal
persecution the Christian church was in a flourishing condition.
Now, with regard to the main persecution, which broke out in the
year 343,! it is manifest that the hostile relations existing between the
Roman and the Persian empires were the immediate occasion of it. It
was attempted to excite the suspicions of the emperor against the Chris-
tians on political grounds, because of the correspondence which they
maintained with their brethren of the same faith in the Roman empire.
For this purpose, advantage was taken of the respect usually paid by
the emperors at Constantinople to the chief of the Persian bishops.
Thus, for example, the Persian Jews represented to the emperor Sapor,
that, when the Roman emperor received from him magnificent epistles
and costly presents, they were scarcely noticed, in comparison with a
miserable note from the bishop of Seleucia Ctesiphon, to which the em-
peror paid every mark of respect.?_ So also Christian ecclesiastics were
accused of harboring in their houses Roman spies ; of betraying to
them the secrets of the empire; of writing letters themselves to the
Roman emperor, informing him of everything that transpired in the
East.?
The objections brought against Christianity by the Persian civil
authorities, mark the peculiar relation in which Parsism stood, both .to
Christianity generally, and to that prevailing tendency of the religious
and moral spirit which obtained particularly among the Persian Chris-
tians. Τὸ those who held to the principles of the Parsic Dualism, in
which the opposition between Ormuzd and Ahriman, and their respec-
tive creations, a pure and an impure one, was uniformly adhered to,
the Christian monotheistic view of the universe must have appeared as
a confounding of good and evil, of the godlike and the ungodlike, as a
profanation of the holy essence of God ; since God was made to be the
creator of that which could proceed only from the evil principle. Ac-
cordingly, in the proclamation issued by the Persian commander and
governor, Mihr-Nerseh, to the Christians in Armenia, about the middle
of the fifth century, it is said: * ‘ All that is good in heaven, Ormuzd
created, and all that is evil was produced by Ahriman. Hatred, calami-
ty, unhappy wars, all these things are the working of the evil princi-
ple ; but, on the other hand, good fortune, dominion, glory, health of
body, beauty of person, truthfulness in language, length of years, all
these things proceed from the good principle. Evil, however, is mixed
church. These acta were published by
1 The most important records of its his-
tory, of which we shall say more hereafter,
may be found in the collection of the acta
martyrum, made under the direction of the
Bishop Marathas, (see Assimani_ bibliothe-
ca oriental. T. III. P. I. p. 73,) from which
were derived also those narratives already
made use of by the Greek historians of the
Stephan. Euod. Assemani, in the work al-
ready cited.
2 Acta martyrum, I. 6. p. 20.
δι νον. 158.
4 In the French version, in the Mémoires
historiques et géocraphiques sur l’Arménie
par St. Martin. Τ᾿. II. Paris, 1819, p. 472.
106 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
with all. They who affirm that God created death, and that evil and
good proceed from him, are in error: for instance, the Christians, who
say that God, being angry with his servant because he had eaten a
fig! created death, and thereby punished men.” In like manner, it
was objected to the Christians, that they taught that insects, serpents,
scorpions, were created by God, and not by the devil.2 Although the
Parsic religion acknowledged the being of one primal Essence, under
the name of Zervan, (Κρόνος -- the αἰών, βυϑός of the Gnostics,) from
whom all existence flowed ; yet this idea of the one hidden, primal Hs-
sence, from the very nature of the case, retreated into the obscure ;
and the idea constantly predominant was that of Ormuzd, the revealer
of this hidden, divine, primal Essence ; the creator, the victorious an-
tagonist of Ahriman; and, although he was the object of all prayer
and adoration, yet various genii and powers of a pure, holy nature,
which were supposed to have emanated from Ormuazd, received also a.
certain share of worship, so far as they represented him. The sun,
fire, water, earth, as elements of a pure nature, working with the energy
of Ormuzd, were objects of worship with the Persians ; and hence it
was objected to the Christians, that they worshipped only one God, but
did not pay due honor to the sun, the fire, the water; especially, that
they profaned the water by using it for improper lustrations. In the
ritual of the Parsic religion, however, lustrations by water were fre-
quently used. In the case last cited, either Christian baptism itself is
represented as a profanation of the holy element, or else it is meant
that the Christians paid no regard to the sacredness of water in their
daily use of it.2 As to the holy earth, the Persians believed, doubtless,
that they saw it profaned by the burial of the dead ; for this practice,
too, was urged as an objection against the Christians.* It constituted,
again, a part of the nature-worship of the Persians, that they looked
upon many of the brute animals as being specially consecrated to Or-
muzd, and sacred; while others were consecrated to Ahriman ; — and
hence the Christians were censured for slaughtering brute animals indis--
criminately. Necessarily connected with the nature-worship of the
Persians, with the idea, pervading the whole life of the Persians, that:
every man should be a servant of Ormuzd in the struggle to defend his
holy creation against the destructive powers of Ahriman, was the pre-
cept of their religion, which required a life of activity and industry,
1The reason why the fig in particular and ravenous birds. They regarded it as a
comes to be mentioned here is, that many
of the fathers of the oriental church, as for
instance, ‘Theodorus of Mopsuestia, (see
his- observations on the first chapters of
Genesis, in the catena of Nicephorus, on
the Octoteuch. Lips. 1770,) supposed it
might be inferred from Genesis 3: 7, that
this was the forbidden fruit.
2 Assemani, I. ὁ. fol. 181.
ὃ See Herodot. 1. I. ¢. 138.
#The custom of burying the dead con-
trasted strongly with the usage of the Per-
sians at that period. The dead body was
cast into the open field, as a prey for dogs
bad token, a sign that the deceased was an
abandoned wretch and his soul belonged to»
the Dews, if the body was left untouched
by the beasts of prey. The bones that: were
left, were allowed to moulder away on the
ground. See Agathias, II. 22 and 23,
pag. 113, ed. Niebuhr. This historian says
expressly of the Persians: Θήκῃ tive éuBa-
Aew ἢ λαρνώκι τοῦς τεϑνεῶτας, ἢ Kal τῇ γῇ
καταχωννῦναι ἥκιστα ϑέμις αὐτοῖς. The
former practice is noticed already by Hero-
dotus, I. 140. He says, however, that the
bones left behind were besmeared with wax,
and buried.
PERSECUTION IN PERSIA. 107
devoted to the culture of nature. All employments, even that of war
against the enemies of the servants of Ormuzd, were reckoned as be-
longing alike to the contest for Ormuzd against Ahriman. The gifts
of nature were to be enjoyed as holy gifts of Ormuzd ; every fortunate
event was thus miade holy ; riches, and especially a numerous progeny,}
were considered as blessings conferred by Ormuzd. But at this time
an ascetic spirit had become diffused among the Christians of the Hast;
and it is easy to imagine what a contrast this must have presented to
the Persian view of life. Hence it was affirmed of the Christians, that
they forbade men to marry and beget children ; to do military service
for the king ; to strike any one.2 And, in the above-cited proclamation
of Mihr-Nerseh, it is said: ““ Believe not your leaders, whom you call
Nazarenes ;® they are deceitful knaves, teaching one thmg and doing
the contrary. - They say, it is no sin to eat flesh; and yet they eat
none. They say, it is right and befitting to take a wife; and yet they
refuse even to look upon a woman. According to them, whoever accu-
mulates riches is guilty of a great sin. They place poverty far above
wealth ; they praise poverty, and they defame the rich. They scorn
the name of good fortune, and ridicule those who stand on the pimnacle
of glory. They affect coarse garments, and they prefer common
things to the costly. They praise death, and they have a contempt for
life. They hold it an unworthy thing to beget men, and they praise
barrenness. Follow their example, and the world would soon come to
an end.”
A Persian governor asks the Christians, Which is the true religion,
that which was professed by the kings, the lords of the world, the
nobles of the empire, the men of rank and of wealth; or that which
they, poor people, had preferred to it? He reproached them as a peo-
ple too indolent to apply themselves to those useful occupations by which
men obtain wealth, and therefore so fond of praising poverty.* The
doctrine, too, of the crucified Redeemer of mankind, appeared to the
Persians preéminently foolish. Thus, in the proclamation above cited,
it is said: “* But what they have written, still more detestable than
anything mentioned as yet, is this: that God was crucified for men;
that he died, was buried, rose again, and finally ascended to heaven.
Do such detestable opinions really deserve an answer ? Even the Dews,
(the demons of the Persians, the creatures of Ahriman,) who are bad,
cannot be imprisoned and tortured by men; and it is pretended that
this could be done to God, the Creator of all things ! ”’
1 See Herod. I. 136.
2 Assemani, l. 5.181. Thus it was re-
quired of a Christian priest, if he would
over, the other remarks here cannot be re-
ferred to all Christians. We are to con-
ceive rather, that this name (the monks
save his life, to worship the sun, to partake
of blood, (the oriental Christians holding
the ordinance mentioned in Acts 15: 29, to
be still binding,) and to marry. Ass. }. ο. 188.
3 St. Martin is of opinion, that this name
is used here as a general appellation of the
Christians: but this will not do; for the
subject of discourse here is the heads and
teachers of the communities; and, more-
being compared with the Nazarenes of the
Old Testament) was in the East a common
designation of the monks; and the clergy
in these districts were then chosen, for the
most part, from among the monks. Comp.
e. g. Gregor. Nazianz. ovat. p. 527, concern-
ing the monks: Nafapaiwy χοροστασίαι, and
οἱ ka?’ ἡμᾶς Ναζαραῖοι, orat. 19, p. 310
4 Assemani, I. c. 186.
108 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
The first ordinance of the emperor probably ran as follows : — The
Christians, unless they would consent to worship the Persian deities,
should be required to pay an inordinate tax, levied on each individual.
This law may have been directed, perhaps, to the bishop of Seleucia,
who was expected to collect the required sum from all the Christians,
and pay it over. Simeon,! the venerable old man who then held this
office, gave a high-hearted answer, which stood out in bold and striking
contrast with the servile spirit of the Orientals ; though it is wanting
in the temper of Christian humility, and fails to mark the distinction
between spiritual and political freedom. Yet it should be borne in mind,
that the emperor probably demanded of the Christians an amount of
money which they could not possibly raise, thinking to compel them in
this manner to abjure their religion. ‘The Christians, Simeon declares,
whom their Saviour had emancipated by his blood from the most shameful
yoke, and whom he had delivered from the most oppressive of burthens,
could not submit to have such a yoke imposed on them. Far was it from
them to be so foolish and sinful as to exchange the liberty which Christ
had bestowed on them for slavery to men. ‘The Lord, whom we are
resolved to obey, is the upholder and director of your government. We
cannot subject ourselves to an unrighteous command of our fellow-
servant.’ —“ As God is the Creator of your divinity, (the sun,) so
they held it to be a reckless thing to place God’s creature on a level
with himself. They had neither gold nor silver, as the Lord had for-
bidden them to heap up such treasures ; and Paul had said to them,
‘Ye are bought with a price ; be no man’s servants.’ ”’? 2 The emperor
interpreted this letter as if Simeon invited the Christians to insurrec-
tion, and commanded that he and his people should be threatened with
severe punishment. ΤῸ this Simeon replied, that it was far from any
thought of his to betray his flock for the purpose of saving his life and
purchasing peace. He was ready, following the example of his Saviour,
to give up his life for his flock. Sapor then declared: ‘‘ Whereas
Simeon scorns my authority, and obeys the Roman emperor, whose God
alone he worships, but utterly despises my God, he must present him-
self before me and be executed.”’ And he immediately issued another
decree against the Christians: — The clergy of the three first grades
were to be immediately executed ; the churches of the Christians demol-
ished ; their church utensils devoted to profane uses.
Simeon, with two presbyters of his church, was conveyed in chains
to Ledan, a city in the province of Huzitis, where the emperor then
resided. Before this, he had never hesitated to prostrate himself, after
the oriental manner, in the king’s presence, — this being a custom of
the country, which, in itself, contamed nothing idolatrous. But now,
when he was called upon to renounce the sole worship of his God, he
declined doing this; since it behooved him at present to avoid every
act which could be interpreted as if he gave to acreature the honor
due to God alone. The emperor then required him to do homage te
the sun, — assuring him that he might thus deliver himself and his
1 Barsaboe, son of the leather-dresser. His father was the king’s purple-dyer
Si PSC LY
PERSECUTION IN PERSIA. 109
people. ‘To this Simeon replied, that he could still less pay to the sun,
a lifeless being, that homage which he had declined showing to the
king, who was a rational being, and therefore far more than the sun.
As neither promises nor threats had any power to move him, the em-
peror ordered him to be thrown in prison till the next day, to see if he
would not come to his senses.
To the Christians belonged at that time the head of the imperial
household, and most considerable of the eunuchs, to whose care Sapor
had been entrusted when a child, —the venerable Guhsciatazades.
This person had been prevailed upon to do homage to the sun. When
Simeon was conducted by him in chains, he fell on his knee, after the
oriental manner, and saluted him. But Simeon turned away his head;
for he had denied the faith. His conscience was awakened by this
silent reproof: he witnessed a bold confession before the emperor, and
was sentenced to lose his head. When brought already to the place of
execution, he begged of the emperor, as a reward for the services he
had rendered to his whole family, that it might be publicly made known
how Guhsciatazades died, not because he had betrayed the secrets of
the empire, or committed any other crime ; but simply because, as a
Christian, he refused to deny the God whom he professed to worship.
He hoped that the example of his death in behalf of the faith which he
had once denied, would have the more powerful effect on others. Sa-
por consented ; not knowing the power of faith, and expecting that the
terrible example would prove a warning to many: but he soon learned
the contrary. .
The aged Simeon, in his dungeon, had thanked God for the repent-
ance and martyrdom of this brother in the faith. He rejoiced to learn
that his own death would probably take place on the very day which
the Persian Christians had consecrated to the memory of Christ’s pas-
sion. So it happened. The next day after his arrest, and after the
martyrdom of Guhsciatazades, he appeared before the emperor ; and,
showing that he was firm in his confession, he likewise was condemned
to die. A hundred others of the clerical order, who had been con-
demned at the same time, were led out with him to the place of execu-
tion. Simeon and his two companions were to be reserved till the last.
The whole design of the emperor was to shake his constancy, so that,
through his example, he might work on the great mass of the Chris-
tians; and he hoped that the blood of so many shed before his eyes
would make him waver ; but he was mistaken. Simeon confirmed the
band of confessors by his exhortations, and at last died himself with
his two companions. It happened that one of these latter, Ananias,
when it was his turn to strip himself and be bound, in order to receive
the stroke of the axe, suddenly seized by the natural fear of death,
trembled through his whole frame; the flesh only being weak, while the
spirit was strong as before. When this was observed by Phusik, an
officer of some rank, superintendent of all the workmen in the palace,
who was himself a Christian, said he to him: ‘‘ Never mind ; shut your
eyes but a moment, and partake of the light of Christ.” This was im-
mediately communicated to the king. Sapor was the more incensed at
VOL. II. 10
110 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
the disobedience of Phusik, because but a short time had elapsed since
he had conferred on him his new honors. Phusik declared that he
would gladly exchange these poor honors for the crown of martyrdom.
His tongue was torn out in the most cruel manner, and thus he died.
Still more violent was the persecution in the following year, 344.
An edict appeared, which commanded that all Christians should be
thrown into chains, and executed. Many, belonging to every rank, ἢ
died as martyrs. Among these was a eunuch of the palace, named
Azades, aman greatly prized by the king. So much was the. latter
affected by his death, that he commanded the punishment of death
should be inflicted from thenceforth only on the leaders of the Chris-
tian sect; that is, only on persons of the clerical order. Of these, a
great number suffered martyrdom. Yet, within the space of the forty
years during which this persecution lasted, it became occasionally
- more general and violent again, — which was especially the case towards
its close.
The treaty of peace which terminated the unfortunate war of the
Romans with the Persians under the emperor Jovian, was unfavorable
to the interests of the Christians; the ancient Christian city Nisibis, on
the border of Mesopotamia, being given up to the Persians. Yet the
Christian inhabitants had permission to leave the country.
In the early part of the fifth century, by the wise and prudent con-
duct of a man zealously engaged in promoting the spread of the gospel,
a very favorable change was brought about in the situation of the Chris-
tians, which might have been attended with important consequences for
a long time in the future, if his labors had not been defeated by the
imprudent zeal of another bishop. The bishop Maruthas, of Tagrit in
Mesopotamia,” consented to serve as an agent in the negotiations be-
tween the emperors Arcadius and Theodosius II., and the Persian em-
peror Jezdegerdes II.; and, in these negotiations, he gained the esteem
and confidence of the Persian emperor. ‘The intrigues of the Magians
to effect his downfall, he was enabled to defeat by his sagacity, and his
reputation only rose higher. He obtained permission for the Chifstians
to rebuild their churches, and to hold their meetings for divine worship ;
but the whole was made naught by the imprudent behavior of Abdas,
bishop of Susa. The latter caused one of the Persian temples, (a
πυρεῖον.) in which fire, the symbol of Ormuzd, was worshipped, to be
demolished. Owing, perhaps, to the still remaining influence of the bishop
Maruthas, Jezdegerdes at first showed a moderation seldom witnessed
among oriental princes under the like circumstances. He summoned Ab-
das into his presence, mildly upbraided him for this act of violence, and
simply required him to rebuild the temple. As the latter thought, how-
ever, that he could not conscientiously do this, and resolutely declined to
do it, the king was greatly exasperated. He ordered the Christian
churches to be destroyed, and Abdas to be executed (about the
year 418.3) This was the commencement of a thirty years’ perse-
cution of the Christians in Persia, which, under .the reign of Varanes,
1 Assemani, Tom. I. 35. Sozom. 1. 11. 2 Maipheracta, Martyropolis.
6.11. 8 The judgment which the mild Theodo-
111
the successor of Jezdegerdes, from the year 421 and onward, became
far more violent. Oriental cruelty invented against the Christians the
most painful modes of death; and men of all ranks, even the highest,
suffered martyrdom. Jacobus, a man belonging to one of the most dis-
tinguished families, had already been moved by his benefactor, the
king Jezdegerdes, to deny the faith. But through the remonstrances
of his mother and his wife, filled with remorse, he repented, and after
this remained stedfast under protracted tortures, one limb being sev-
ered from his body after another. Once only, when his thigh was dis-
membered, a cry of anguish was heard from him: “ Lord Jesus, help
and deliver me, for the bands of death are about me.”’4 Another noble
Persian, Hormisdas, who was ordered by the king to deny his faith,
answered: ‘ You bid me do what is in itself a sin, and what you your-
self cannot approve; for he who can consent to deny the Almighty
God, will still more easily deny his king, who is a mortal man.” The
king thereupon deprived him of all his honors, confiscated his estate,
and condemned him, naked, with only a girdle about his loins, to drive
the camels in the rear of the army. But some days after, observing
him, from his palace windows, in this pitiable condition, scorched by
the sun, and covered with dust, he was seized with compunction. Sum-
moning him to his presence, he ordered him to be clothed in a linen
robe, and called on him anew to renounce his faith. But Hormisdas
rent the linen robe in twain, saying: “ If you suppose I shall renounce
my faith for this, keep the gift by which you would bribe me to deny
God. Of another Christian, by the name of Suenes, the master of a
thousand slaves, Jezdegerdes demanded, after he had refused to deny
his faith, which was the worst of his slaves, and immediately made the
latter lord over the whole, including his old master.
Among other incidents, it so happened that a certain deacon, named
Benjamin, was cast into prison. He pined away two years in his dun-
geon, until the arrival of an ambassador sent on other business from
the Roman empire. The latter petitioned the king for the release of
Benjamin; and it was accorded to him, on condition that he would
never preach Christianity to any adherent of the Persian system of
religion. The ambassador assented to this condition, without consulting
with Benjamin. But, on communicating it to the latter, he declined it
altogether, saying: ‘‘It is impossible for me not to impart to others
the light that I have received myself; for the gospel history teaches
us to what sorer punishment he justly exposes himself, who hides his
talent.” Notwithstanding, he obtained his freedom, under the presump-
tion that after all he would comply with the condition. He continued
PERSECUTION IN PERSIA.
to preach the gospel; and, having
retus, who relates this, passes on the bish-
op’s conduct, is worthy of notice, (h. eccles.
1. V. c. 39:) “I affirm, indeed, that the
wrong time was chosen for the destruction
of the fire-temple; for the apostle Paul
himself, when he came to Athens and found
the whole city given to idolatry, destroyed
none of the altars which they reverenced,
but by instruction refuted their ignorance,
labored a year in this way, he was
and showed them the truth. But that the
bishop preferred rather to die than to re-
build the temple, commands my admiration ;
for to me it seems the same thing to wor-
ship fire, and to rebuild the temple for such
worship.” :
1 See Assemani acta Martyrum, 1. c. p.
243.
112 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
accused before the king, who required him to deny the faith.. Upon
this, he asked the king to what punishment he would sentence the
man who deserted his government, and swore allegiance to another.
The king replied that he should sentence him to death. ‘ Then,” said
Benjamin, “ what punishment might not that person justly suffer, who
should disown his Creator, and give the honor due to God alone to one
of his fellow-servants ?”’. He was executed with cruel torments! The
bishop Theodoretus of Cyros, on the Euphrates, wrote on this occasion
to Eusebius, bishop of Persian Armenia, a letter of exhortation, breath-
ing the genuine Christian spirit, im which he admonishes him to be not
only steadfast in maintaining his own conflict, but forbearing and kindly
provident towards the weak,—an exhortation which perhaps was not
unnecessary to the Persian Christians, who were somewhat inclined, as
it would seem, to a fanatical pride. ‘‘ Let us be watchful,”’ he writes,?
“and fight for the sheep of our Lord. ‘Their Master is at hand; he
will surely appear, will scatter the wolves, and bestow honor on the
shepherds. ‘For the Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the
soul that seeketh him.’ Lament. 3: 25. Let us not murmur at
this storm which has arisen; for the Lord knows what is best. On
this account, he did not grant the request even of his apostle, who
besought him to deliver him from his trials; but said to him: ‘My
grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’
But I beseech you, let not our only care be for ourselves; but let us
bestow still greater care on the others; for the precept has come down
to us from the apostles, to ‘ comfort the feeble-minded, and support the
weak.’ 1 Thess. 5: 14. Let us reach forth our hand also to the fallen;
let us heal their wounds, that we may put them also in battle-array
against the wicked spirit. The Lord loves men; he receives the sin-
ner’s repentance ;—let us hear his own words: ‘ As 1 live, saith the
Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the
wicked turn from his way and live.’ Ezek. 33: 11. For this reason,
he has even confirmed his words by an oath, although he forbids the
oath to others, in order to convince us that he longs after our repent-
ance and our salvation. But the God of peace will shortly cause Satan
to be trodden under your feet, and rejoice your ears with the tidings
of your peace, when he shall say to the raging sea, ‘ Peace, be still.’ ὃ
As many were inclined to save themselves by fleeing from the Per-
sian dominion into the Roman empire, command was given to all the
garrisons on the frontiers, and to the chiefs of the nomadic hordes in
the Persian service who kept watch over the boundaries of the empire,
to arrest all Christians who might attempt to leave the kingdom. Many,
nevertheless, succeeded in effecting their escape ; and sought aid through
Atticus, bishop of Constantinople, from the Roman emperor. On the
1 Theodoret. V.c.39. The same Theo- 2 Epist. 78.
doretus speaks of the steadfastness of the 8 Ep. 78.
Persian Christians under all their tortures, 4 Vit. Euthym.c. 18. Coteler. Ecclesiz
de Gree. affect. curat. Disput. IX. pag. 985, Grace Monumenta, T. IT. If this account
T. IV. He finely remarks: “They mutilate is quite accurate, the order was issued al-
and destroy the body, but cannot get at the ready under the reign of Jezdegerdes, — un
treasury of faith.” less he is confounded with Varanes
CONVERSION OF THE ARMENIANS. 113
other hand, the Persian king demanded the surrender of the fugitives.
This being refused, led, in conjunction with various other difficulties, to ἡ
the war between the two empires, which again operated unfavorably on
the situation of the Persian Christians. But with the restoration of
peace their prospects once more grew better. In particular, the chari-
table and Christian conduct of a pious bishop could not fail to make a
favorable impression on the Persians. The Roman soldiers had carried
off seven thousand Persian prisoners, whom nothing would prevail upon
them to release, and who, deprived of all the necessary means of sub-
sistence, were in the most pitiable condition. Then Acacius, bishop of
Amida in Mesopotamia, called together his clergy, and said to them:
** Our God needs neither dishes nor drinking-vessels, since he is all-
sufficient in himself. Now as the church, through the love of its chil-
dren, possesses many utensils of gold and silver, we must dispose of
these to ransom and to refresh the prisoners.”” No sooner said than
done: the prisoners were not only redeemed, but, after being provided
with the means of subsistence, and with money to defray their travelling
expenses, were sent back to their homes. This work of charity is said
to have affected so deeply the heart of the emperor, embittered as it
was against the Christians, that he desired an interview with the
bishop.?
As doctrinal controversies in the Roman church, in the course of the
fifth century, led to a schism between the Christian church of the Per-
sian and that of the Roman empire, (concerning which we shall speak
in the fourth section,) the political cause of the persecutions in Persia
would thus be removed, and this circumstance would operate favorably
on the situation of the Persian Christians.
By means of Persia, Syria, and other bordering provinces of the
Roman empire, many seeds of Christianity would early find their way
to Armenia ; but the fanatical spirit of the Persico-Parthian religion
was here for a long time an insurmountable obstacle to the spread of the
gospel. The Armenian Gregory, who, on account of his apostolical ae-
tivity, obtained the cognomen of “ the Enlightener,” (ὁ φωτιστῆς, ) first
led the way, by his active zeal, toa more general diffusion of Christi-
anity in his native country, from the commencement of the fourth cen-
tury and onwards; and it was by his means also that the Armenian
king Tiridates was converted.? The old religion, notwithstanding this
event, still continued to maintain itself in many of the Armenian proy-
inces. In the beginning of the fifth century, Miesrob, who had once
been the royal secretary, having devoted himself wholly to the service
of religion, disseminated Christianity still more widely in countries to
which it had not yet penetrated, by taking up his abode in those regions
as a hermit. Up to this time, the Syrian version of the Bible, the
authority of which was recognized in the Persian church, had been
used in Armenia ; and hence an interpreter was always needed to trans-
late into the vernacular tongue the portions of scripture read at the
public worship. Miesrob first gave his people an alphabet, and trans-
1 Sozom. |. VII. c. 21, 22. 2 See Moses Chorenens. hist. Armen. ]. II. c. 77 and c. 88
VOL. II. 10*
114 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
lated the Bible into their language. Thus was the preservation of
Christianity among this people made sure, even while the country was
subjected to such dynasties as were devoted to the Zoroastrian or to
the Mohammedan religion, and sought to supplant Christianity ; — and
a Christian literature proceeded from this time forward to form itself in
Armenia. Miesrob was a successful and well-deserving laborer also
among the neighboring kindred populations.
A party devoted to the ancient cultus, who continued to maintain
themselves in some districts of Armenia, were encouraged and sup-
ported by those who held the same faith in Persia. The Persian kings
were striving continually to extend their dominion over Armenia.
Where they were victorious, they persecuted Christianity, and sought
to restore the old religion. The Persian commander and governor,
Mihr-Nerseh, about the middle of the fifth century, addressed a procla-
mation to all the Armenians, in which he affirmed that all who did not
adopt the religion of Mazdejesnan (the Zoroastrian faith) must be men-
tally blind, and deceived. by the wicked spirits, (the Dews.)? The
Armenian governors and chiefs are said either to have answered in a
written document the objections here made to Christianity, or to have
appeared before a great tribunal, which was to decide the question on
’ the affairs of religion. On this occasion, the Armenian nobles, whom
the patriarch Joseph had assembled, A.D. 450, in the city of Ardas-
chad, declared that they preferred to die as martyrs rather than to
deny their faith. After the Persian king, however, had summoned
them to his court, and threatened them with a cruel death, they were
prevailed upon to give in their denial. But the attempt of the Per-
sians to extirpate Christianity by force, and to introduce the Zorastrian
religion, brought about a universal popular movement, and a religious
war, a thing of frequent occurrence in those regions.? It was amidst
the distractions in which the Persian church, as well as the whole coun-
try, was then involved, that the Armenian Moses of Chorene wrote the
history of his native land, which he concludes with sorrow and com-
laint.
᾿ The conversion of the race of Jberians, bordering on the North,
(within the present Georgia and Grusinia,) proceeded from a very
remarkable, insignificant beginning.*
Under the reign of the emperor Constantine, a Christian female, per-
haps a nun, was carried off captive by the Iberians, and became the
slave of one of the natives of the country. Here her rigidly ascetic
and devotional life attracted the attention of the people, and she ac-
‘quired their confidence and respect. It happened that a child who
had fallen sick, was, after the manner of the tribe, conveyed from house
to house, that any person who knew of a remedy against the disease
1 Moses Chorenens. ]. III. c. 47 and 52. 4 Among this people, too, the prevailing
2 See the proclamation, which has been religion was probably some modification of
already cited, in the Mémoires historiques the Persian cultus, adapted to their rude
et géographiques sur l’Arménie par St. manners. They worshipped an image of
Martin. Paris, 1819. T. II. p. 472. Ormuzd, notwithstanding that the genuine
8 See the Mémoires sur l’Arménie, cited Zoroastrian religion allowed of no images.
above. T.I. p. 323. See Moses Chorenens. ]. II. c. 83
CONVERSION OF THE IBERIANS. 115
might prescribe for it. The child, whom no one could help, having
been brought to the Christian woman, she said that she knew of no
remedy ; but that Christ, her God, could help even where human help
was found to be unavailing. She prayed for the child, and it recovered.
The recovery was ascribed to the prayer: this made a great impres-
sion, and the matter finally reached the ear of the queen. The latter
afterwards fell severely sick, and sent for this Christian female. Hay-
ing no wish to be considered a worker of miracles, she declined the
call. Upon this, the queen caused herself to be conveyed to her ; and
she also recovered from her sickness through prayers of this female.
The king, on hearing of the fact, was about to send her a rich present;
but his wife informed him that the Christian woman despised all earthly
goods, and that the only thing she would consider as her reward was
when others jomed her in worshipping her God. This, at the mo-
ment, made no farther impression on him. But sometime afterwards,
being overtaken, while hunting, with gloomy weather, by which he was
separated from his companions, and finally lost his way, he called to
mind what had been told him concerning the almighty power of the
God of the Christians, and addressed him with a vow, that, if he found
his way out of the desert, he would devote himself entirely to his wor-
ship. Soon after, the sky cleared up, and the king safely found his
way back. His mind was now well disposed to be affected by the
preaching of the Christian female. Afterwards he himself engaged in
instructing the men, while his quéen instructed the women of his peo-
ple. Next they sent in quest of teachers of the gospel and clergy-
men from the Roman empire ; and this was the beginning of Christi-
anity among a people! where it has been preserved, though mixed with
superstition, down to the present times.? :
From this tribe, the knowledge of Christianity may have been ex-
tended also to the neighboring populations. About the year 520,
Tzathus, prince of the Lazians, one of the tribes of this country, came
on a visit to the emperor Justin. He received baptism, and Justin
stood as his godfather. He returned back to his people, with a noble
1 Betwixt the years 320 and 330.
2 One of the original sources of this
story is Rufinus, from whom the Greek
church-historians have borrowed it. Rufi-
nus had it from the mouth of the Iberian
chieftain Bacurius, who had risen to the
dignity of a Comes Domesticorum in the
Roman empire, and, at the time Rufinus
knew him, had become Dux over the bor-
ders of Palestine, (see Rufin. ἢ. e. c. 10.)
The simple tale bears within itself the
marks of truth; and, indeed, the spread
of Christianity has often received an im-
pulse from similar occurrences. The sec-
ond, perhaps independent, channel is the
History of Moses of Chorene, (1. II. ο. 83.)
It is possible, indeed, that this historian took
his account indirectly from the Greek writers,
who were indebted for it to Rufinus. But,
considering the vicinity of the country, it
may be conceived, too, that he derived his
account immediately from the spot. In
favor of this latter supposition would be
the slight discrepancies in the two severa’
accounts, though these, too, might be ac-
counted for by the story’s being given in an
Armenian dress. According to this writer,
the name of the Christian woman was
Nunia, and that of the prince, Miraus.
The Christian woman was an Armenian;
and the application for teachers of Chris-
tianity was made, not to the church of the
Roman empire, but to the Armenian bish-
op, Gregory, who has been already men-
tioned. It may be a question, however,
whether this modification of the story was
not invented in favor of the Armenian
church, to which the Iberian became subse-
quently united.
8 512, according to the era of Theopha-
nes.
116 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
Greek lady, whom he had married, richly loaded with presents from the
emperor, who acknowledged him as a king. In the time of the emperor
Justinian, the assassination of a prince of this tribe, by a Roman gene-
ral, produced among them a great excitement; and some individuals
took advantage of this state of feeling to persuade them to drop their
connection with the Roman people, and attach themselves to the Per-
sian empire. But the fear lest a connection with the Persians would
endanger their Christian faith, is said to have contributed especially, to
deter them from following this advice.t Another tribe also, belonging
to this district, bordering on Mount Caucasus, namely, the Abasguans,
were converted under the reign of the emperor Justinian. Until this
time, groves and lofty trees (after the manner of the ancient Germans)
had been the objects of their worship. The emperor Justinian sent
them ecclesiastics, and founded among them a church. He produced
a favorable disposition towards Christianity among the people, by for-
bidding their rulers to engage in the scandalous traffic in castrated
slaves, to which many of the male children of the people were sacri-
ficed.?
What we had to say respecting the vagueness of the accounts relative
to the spread of Christianity in the earliest times in India, applies also
to many of the accounts belonging to the earlier times of this period.
The same cause of the obscurity still continued to exist; namely, the
unsettled use of the name India, by which was understood sometimes
Ethiopia, sometimes Arabia, and sometimes East India proper. At the
same time, however, it should be borne in mind, that there was at this
time a constant intercourse between all these countries by commercial
connections and colonies, which also might serve as a channel for com-
municating Christianity from one of these districts to the other. The
various passages, therefore, in which Chrysostom names the Indian
among the different languages into which the holy seriptures had been
translated, can settle nothing definitely ; and even if it could be made
probable, by the accompanying descriptions, that Chrysostom had really
East India proper before his mind, still such rhetorical representations
could not properly be considered as evidence to be relied upon, especi-
ally as he himself might possibly have been deceived by the vague
meaning of the name. Of more importance, on this point, is what the
Arian historian Philostorgius relates concerning the missionary The-
ophilus, who bore the cognomen of Indicus, (ὁ Ἰνδος.) ‘This Theophilus
had been sent by his countrymen, the inhabitants of the island Diu,? in
the reign of the emperor Constantine, as a hostage to Constantinople.
He was there educated, and trained for the spiritual office; afterwards
consecrated as deacon, and still later made a bishop, that he might be
prepared to preach the gospel to his countrymen, and to the Arabians.
According to the representation of Philostorgius, in the extracts made
by Photius, we should conceive, it is true, no other country to be meant
here than Arabia. But the name Diw reminds us rather of Kast India
proper, and, in particular, of the place by this name near the entrance of
1 See Agathias III. 12, p. 165, ed. Niebuhr. β 2 See Procop. de bello Gothico, 1. ΕΥ̓͂. ο. 8
Διβοῦς.
INDIA. ARABIA. 117
the Persian Gulf ; the situation of which harmonizes, moreover, with The-
ophilus’ journey from Arabia. Theophilus, it is said, went from Arabia
to Diu, his native land ; and from thence visited the other countries of
India. Here he found still existing the Christianity which had been
already planted in that region at an earlier period.t Perfectly certain
and distinct accounts of the diffusion of Christianity in India we meet
with first in Cosmas, who, on account of his travels in India, received the
name Jndicopleustes.2 He found Christians in three different places in
India ; first, on the island Zaprobane, called by the inhabitants Siele-
dibu, (the present Ceylon.) Here he found a church, which had been
planted by Persian merchants residing on the spot, and which was pre-
sided over by a presbyter who had been ordained in Persia. This
island carried on a brisk commerce with Persia and Ethiopia. Mari-
time commerce was the channel by which Christianity had reached this
spot from Persia. Again, he met with Christians, and an ordained
clergy, at Male, ‘‘ where the pepper grows,” (perhaps the present Mal-
abar ;) next, at Calliana, (perhaps Calcutta,) where there was a Per-
sian bishop. From the accounts of Cosmas, it is by no means to be
gathered that Christianity had spread among the native population of
these countries: it is only clear that commercial colonies of the Per-
sians here practised the rites of Christian worship. These Persian
Christians are the progenitors of the Christian colonies still existing on
the coast of Malabar.‘
We observed, it is true, that, perhaps already in the previous period,
isolated attempts had been made to disseminate Christianity even in
those parts of Arabia which were not subject to the Roman dominion ;
but coacerning the success and issue of those attempts we have no
accurate information. ‘The nomadic life which prevailed over the
largest portion of Arabia, ever presented a powerful hindrance to the
spread of Christianity. or it is certain, that Christianity could strike
its root deeply and firmly, only where it entered as a forming power into
the whole life of the people. The extensive commercial intercourse be-
tween a part of Arabia and the Roman empire, induced the emperor
Constantine to send an embassy, with numerous presents, to one of the
powerful Arabian chiefs, the king of the ancient and mighty nation of
the Hamyares, (Homerites,) or Sabzeans, in Yemen, Arabia Felix
He was at pains to select for this mission the above-mentioned Theophi-
1 When the Arian Philostorgius says:
the inhabitants of this country needed no
correction of their doctrine, i. e. their doc-
trine did not at all coincide with the Nicene
creed, — they had preserved the ἑτεροούσιον
unaltered from the beginning, this can on-
ly be understood to mean, that they had the
older, more simple form of church doc-
trine, the subordination system, before it
had undergone any further change by the
dialectic process, — that form which would
have satisfied the Arians. See Philostorg.
II. 14.
2 He had made these journeys first as a
merchant, and afterwards communicated
the geographical and ethnographical facts
which he had collected in the τοπογραφία
χριστιανικῆ, which he wrote when a monk,
in the year 585, published by Montfaucon
in the collectio nova patrum et scriptorum
Gree. Tom. II.
ὃ See Cosmas. 1. ITI. p. 178, in Montfau-
con, and |. XI. pag. 336.
4 The decyphering of the ancient docu-
ments of these Christians will perhaps
throw more light on the subject of the
spread of Christianity in India. See Tych-
sen’s Dissertation de inscriptionibus Indicis
in the Commentationes Soc. Reg. Gotting
recentiores Tom. Y.
118 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
lus of Diu, who, by reason of the old commercial connections between
his country and Arabia, and perhaps of his descent from some ancient
Arabian colony,! might claim affinity with the race with whose language
he was acquainted. This Theophilus, it is said, obtained permission
from the Arabian chieftain to found a church, at the emperor’s expense,
in which Christian worship might be held for the benefit of the Roman
merchants. he labors of Theophilus were attended with the happiest
effects. He converted the prince of the country, who founded, at his
own cost, three churches; one in the principal town of the nation,
which was called Zaphar ; another at the Roman port and commercial
depot, Aden ; and the third at Hormuz, the Persian place of trade on
the Persian Gulf.2 Theophilus, from the first, encountered the fiercest
opposition from the Jews, whose influence in this country was. great.
The same party succeeded afterwards to supplant the Christian commu-
nities which had been able to maintain themselves here. See below.
Monks who lived in the deserts bordering on Arabia, and who came
in contact with the wandering hordes of nomadic Arabians, acquired
the respect and confidence of these rude men, and could take advan-
tage of it to preach the gospel to them. Eusebius of Cesarea relates
that, in his time, Christian churches were planted in the deserts of the
Saracens.2 Bands of Saracens came, with their wives and children,
to the monk Hilarion, and besought his blessing. He availed himself
of these opportunities of exhorting them to the worship of the true
God, and to faith in Christ.* Still later, about the year 372, it hap-
pened, that a Saracenian queen, Mavia or Mauvia, who was at war
with the Romans, heard much of a Saracenian monk in the neighbor-
ing desert, by the name of Moses. She made it one of the conditions
of peace, that this Moses should be given to her people as their bishop,
which was granted.®
In the first half of the fifth century, Simeon the Syrian monk, (and
Stylite,) who spent several years standing on a pillar thirty-six. ells in
height, by this extraordinary spectacle, and the complete subjection
which he seemed to exercise over his body, drew upon himself, as might
have been expected, the attention of the nomadic Saracens. They
looked upon him as a super-earthly being, and placed great confidence in
blessings which they obtained from him, as well as in his prayers.
Hundreds and thousands came to him, and were moved by his exhorta-
tions to receive baptism. Theodoretus relates this as an eye-witness.®
Among the examples of conversion most deserving of notice, belongs
the following : — The chief of a Saracenic tribe, whose name, accord-
ing to the Greeks, was Aspebethos, was, at the beginning of the fifth
1 See Arabia in Ritter’s Geography ; and 3 Commentar. in Jesaiam, in Montfau-
in particular, B. II. p. 292; and Hartmann’s
Aufklarungen tiber Asien, B. 11. S. 125,
adit.
2 See Philostorg. II. ὁ 6; III. § 4. As
Theophilus was an Arian, we cannot think
it strange that the other Greek writers of
church history, who belong to: the orthodox
party, make no mention of these meritori-
ous labors of an Arian.
con’s collectio nova patrum, Tom. II. f.521.
᾿Εκκλησίων Χριστοῦ καὶ ἐν ταῖς ἐρήμοις τῶν
Σαρακῆνων, καϑ᾽ ἡμᾶς αὐτοὺς ἱδρυμένων.
4 See Hieronymi vita Hilarionis, T. IV.
ed. Martianay, p. 11. f. 82.
5 Socrat. LV. 36. Sozom. VI. 38. Rufin.
II. VI. Theodoret. IV. 23.
ὁ Hist. religios. c. 26, T. III. p. 1274
ARABIA. ABYSSINIA. 119
century, attached to the service of the Persian empire ; and the business
assigned him was to watch over the boundaries. Now, the Christians in
the Persian empire were at this time suffering persecution, and the
Saracenic commander was ordered to seize and confine every Christian
fugitive who attempted to pass the limits. But he was touched with
pity towards them, and allowed them to pass free. Thus having brought
persecution on himself, he fled to the Romans. He became head of an
Arabian tribe in alliance with the latter. Sometime afterwards, beliey-
ing himself indebted for the cure of his son, Zerebon, to the prayer of
the venerable monk Euthymius, he caused himself and his son to be
baptized by the latter; and many of his tribe followed his example. He
encamped in the neighborhood of Euthymius, and many other Saracens
also pitched their tents near by. Euthymius had great influence over
their mmds. Finally, Terebon, having now arrived at mature age, be-
came the chief of his tribe, and Ashebethos, who had taken the baptis-
mal name of Peter, was made bishop of the several Saracenic bands.
He was called the first Saracenic camp-bishop! in Palestine. Some-
what later, in the beginning of the sizth century, occurred the conver-
sion of a Saracenic sheikh, (géAapyoc,) Almundar ; perhaps not without
some connection with the facts above related.?
We pass from Asia to Africa. The most important event in the
present period, connected with the conversion of this quarter of the
world, was the founding of the Christian church among the Abyssin-
ians, in a population among whom it has preserved itself, down to the
present time, as the dominant religion, amidst surrounding pagan and
Mohammedan tribes, and which is perhaps destined to be an instrument,
in the hands of Providence, for the benefit of this entire quarter of the
world. In this case, also, the great work proceeded from an inconsid-
erable beginning. A learned Greek of Tyre, named Meropius, had, in
the reign of the emperor Constantine, undertaken a voyage of scientific
discovery. Already on the point of returning, he landed on the coast
of Ethiopia or Abyssinia, to procure fresh water, where he was at-
tacked, robbed, and himself and crew murdered, by the warlike natives,
who were at that time in a state of hostility with the Roman empire.
Two young men, his companions, Frumentius and Addesius, alone were
spared, out of pity for their tender age. ‘These two youths were taken
into the service of the prince of the tribe, and made themselves be-
loved. Aidesius became his cup-bearer ; Frumentius, who was distin-
guished for intelligence and sagacity, was appointed his secretary and
accountant. After the death of the prince, the education of Avzanes,
the young heir, was entrusted to them; and Frumentius obtained great
influence as administrator of the government. He made use of this
influence already in behalf of Christianity. He sought the acquaintance
of the Roman merchants visiting those parts, who were Christians ;
assisted them in founding a church, and united with them in the Chris-
tian worship of God. Finally, they obtained liberty to return home to
1’ Ἐπίσκοπος τῶν παρεμβολῶν. 3 See Theodoret. lector. 1. II. fol. 564, ed.
2 See Vita Euthymii in Cotelerii monu- Mogunt. 1679.
menta ecclesie Greece, T. 11. ¢.18.19.38.39.
120 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
their country. Aldesius repaired to Tyre, where he was made a pres-
byter. Here Rufinus became acquainted with. him, and learned all the
particulars of the story from his own mouth.’ But Frumentius felt
himself called to a higher work. He felt bound to see to it that the
people with whom he had spent the greater part of his youth, and from
whom he had received so many favors, should be made to share in the
highest blessing of mankind. He travelled, therefore, to Alexandria,
where the great Athanasius had recently been made bishop, (A.D.
326.) Athanasius entered at once, with ready sympathy, into the plan
of Frumentius. But he found, very justly, that no one could be a
more suitable agent for the prosecution of this work than Frumentius
himself ; and he consecrated him bishop of Auxuma, (Axum,) the chief
city of the Abyssinians, and a famous commercial town. Frumentius
returned back to this place, and labored there with great success. Sub-
sequently, Theophilus of Arabia, who has already been mentioned, vis-
ited the same country, and repaired to the principal town, Auxuma,
(Axum.) Theophilus being an Arian, and Frumentius, the friend of
Athanasius, professing in all probability the doctrines of the council of
Nice, it is possible a dispute may have arisen in their announcement
here of their respective doctrines, which would necessarily be attended
with unfavorable effects on the nascent church ; but perhaps, too, Fru-
mentius, who had not received a theological education, did not enter so
deeply into theological questions. Still the emperor Constantius con-
sidered it necessary to persecute the disciples of the hated Athanasius,
even in these remote regions. After Athanasius had been banished
from Alexandria, in the year 356, Constantius required the princes of
the Abyssinian people to send Frumentius to Alexandria, in order that
the Arian bishop Georgius, who had been set up in place of Athana-
sius, might inquire into his orthodoxy, and into the regularity of his
ordination.”
The fate of the Christian church among the Homerites, in Arabia
Felix, afforded an opportunity for the Abyssinians, under the reign of
the emperor Justin and Justinian, to show their zeal in behalf of the
cause of the Christians. The prince of that Arabian population, Duna-
an, or Dsunovas, was a zealous adherent of Judaism; and, under pre-
text of avenging the oppressions which his fellow-believers were obliged
to suffer in the Roman empire, he caused the Christian merchants who
came from that quarter and visited Arabia for the purposes of trade,
or passed through the country to Abyssinia, to be murdered. Eles-
er with Δηφας, is named his brother. But
the fact may have been, that, when Constan-
tius wrote his letter, the tirst of these had
become co-reg#ént. It is singular, however,
that Constantius expresses himself as if
“1 Rufin. hist. eccles. 1. c. 9.
2See the letter of Constantius, in the
Apologia Athanasii ad Constantium, § 31.
The princes of the Abyssinians are here
called AvCavac and Zalavac. A Greek in-
scription, which proceeded from the former
of these while he was still a Pagan, (he is
here called ’AecCavac,) has recently been dis-
covered by the English in Abyssinia, and is
given in Salt’s Voyage to Abyssinia, p. 411.
In this inscription, ’AecCavac alone is called
king. Σαιαζανας, on the other hand, togeth-
Frumentius had then visited Auxuma for
the first time. This might lead us to infer
that there is some chronological inaccuracy
in the narrative of Rufinus; as he places
the ordination of Frumentius in the begin-
ning of the episcopal presidency of Athana-
sius.
* ς
ARABIA. ABYSSINIA. EUROPE. 121
baan,! the Christian king of Abyssinia, made this a cause for declaring
war on the Arabian prince. He conquered Dsunovas, deprived him of
the government, and set up a Christian, by the name of Abraham, as
king in his stead. But at the death of the latter, which happened soon
after, Dsunovas again made himself master of the throne; and it was a
natural consequence of what he had suffered, that he now became
a fiercer and more cruel persecutor than he was before. Against the
native Christians he raged with fire and sword. Many died as martyrs,
especially in a town called Negran, inhabited for the most part by
Christians. Upon this, Elesbaan interfered once more, under the reign
of the emperor Justinian, who stimulated him to the undertaking. He
made a second expedition to Arabia Felix, and was again victorious.
Dsunovas lost his life in this war; the Abyssinian prince put an end to
the ancient, independent empire of the Homerites, and established a
new government favorable to the Christians.”
The Cosmas already mentioned, who composed his description of the
earth in the time of the emperor Justinian, was aware that Christian
churches, bishops, and monks, were then existing in Homeria, and the
country of the Auxumites, or Ethiopia.? We learn also from him that
many Christians, and persons of the clerical order, resided in the island
of Socotora (νῆσος Διοσκορίδους.)ὺ The latter had been ordained in Persia,
and it seems that Christianity had been conveyed there by means of
the commercial connections with Persia.*
We now return to Hwrope. But we shall reserve many of the most
important facts of this section, — the greatest part of that which relates
to the diffusion of Christianity and the planting of the Christian church
among the populations of German descent, who established themselves,
after the migration of the nations, on the ruins of the Roman empire,
—to the following period, so as not to separate what strictly belongs
together, and that we may be enabled to survey at a single glance the
whole missionary work among these populations. We shall notice here,
therefore, only those matters which may be separately considered, and
which may most easily be connected with the history of the church in
the Roman empire.
1 Theophanes is certainly mistaken, when,
at the year 524, he relates that these events
first led the Jewish king of Ethiopia to em-
brace Christianity, and to obtain a bishop
from the emperor Justinian. Nor have we
any good reason to presume, on the author-
ity of this historian, that Christianity in
Abyssinia had become extinct again, and
was restored in consequence of these events.
Much rather, the zeal of the Abyssinian
monarch in the cause of the Christians,
together with his own commercial interests
and his connection with the Roman empire,
was a sufficient reason why he should es-
pouse the cause of the persecuted Chris-
tians in the neighboring country. Nor
would it be difficult to show, that it was the
effort to ascribe great effects to the zeal of
the emperor Justinian in behalf of the
VOL. Il.
Christian church, which led to this false re-
port ; as it was moreover ignorance respect-
ing the precise time of the Abyssinian con-
yersions, which led to the natural effort at
explaining what was unknown by the me-
thod of combination. Procopius, a contem-
porary, calls the Ethiopian king, whose
name with him is Ἑλλισϑεαίος, a zealous
Christian, de bello Pers. 1. I. ¢. 20.
3 F, Walch has undertaken to collect and
compare all the conflicting oriental and
Grecian notices of these events, — respecting
which every particular fact cannot be cer-
tainly determined — in the two dissertations
on this subject, in the IV. vol. of the novi
commentarii soc. reg. Gotting. 1774.
3 AIL 179. Lic.
4 See l. c.
122 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
Christianity had long since extended itself, as we remarked already
in the previous period, among the Britons, the ancient inhabitants of
England; while as yet the natives of Scotland and Ireland, the Picts
and Scots, had heard nothing of the gospel. The incursions of these
tribes into the province of the Britons often spread terror and devasta-
tion; and in these forages they frequently carried away with them, as
slaves, large numbers of prisoners.
It was by an altogether peculiar combination of circumstances that,
in the first half of the fifth century, the man was trained and prepared
for his work who was the means of first planting the Christian church
in Ireland. This was Patricius (or, as he was called in his native coun-
try, Succath.) The place of his birth was Bonnaven, which lay be-
tween the Scottish towns Dumbarton and Glasgow, and was then
reckoned to the province of Britain. This village, in memory of Patri-
cius, received the name of Kil-Patrick or Kirk-Patrick.! His father,
a deacon in the village church, gave him a careful education. He was
instructed, indeed, in the doctrines of Christianity ; but he did not come
to know what he possessed in this knowledge, until the experience of
great trials brought him to the consciousness of it. At the age of six-
teen, he, with many others of his countrymen, was carried off by Scot-
tish pirates to the northern part of the island Hibernia (Ireland.) He
was sold to a chieftain of the people, who made him the overseer of his
flocks. ‘This employment compelled him to spend much time in the
open air; and solitude became pleasant to him. Abandoned of all
human aid, he found protection, help, and solace in God, and found
his chief delight in prayer and pious meditation. He speaks of all this
himself, in his confessions: ? ‘I was sixteen years old, and I knew not
the true God; but, in a strange land, the Lord brought me to the sense of
my unbelief, so that, although late, I minded me of my sins, and turned
with my whole heart to the Lord my God; who looked down on my
lowliness, had pity on my youth and my ignorance, who preserved me
ere I knew him, and who protected and comforted me as a father does
his son, ere I knew how to distinguish between good and evil.”
He had spent six years in this bondage, when twice in dreams he
thought he heard a voice bidding him fly in a certain direction to the
sea-coast, where he would find a ship ready to take him, and convey him
back to his country. He obeyed; and, after various remarkable expe-
riences of a guiding Providence, he found his way back to his friends.
Ten years afterwards, he was a second time taken captive by Scot-
tish freebooters, and conveyed to Gaul, where, by means of Christian
merchants, he obtamed his freedom. He then returned back to his
country, and his friends were greatly rejoiced to have him once more
among them. He might now have lived quietly with his friends; but
he felt within him an irrepressible desire to carry the blessing of the
1 The collection of old traditions in Us-
ser. Britannicarum ecclesiarum antiqui-
tates, f. 429.
2 This work bears in its simple, rude
style, an impress that corresponds entirely
to Patricius’ stage of culture. There are
to be found in it none of the traditions
which perhaps proceeded only from English
monks, —nothing wonderful, except what
may be very easily explained on psycho-
logical principles. All this vouches for the
authenticity of the piece.
PATRICIUS.
CONVERSION OF THE IRISH. 123
gospel to those Pagans with whom he had spent a great part of his
youth. He thought he was called upon, by nightly visions, to visit
Ireland, and there consecrate his life to Him who had given his own
life for his ransom. The remonstrances and entreaties of kindred and
friends could not prevent him from obeying this call. ‘ It was not in
my own power,” says Patricius, “‘ but it was God who conquered in
me, and withstood them all.”” It seems that he now betook himself
first to France,! for the purpose of fitting himself still better for his
work, in the society of pious monks and clergymen.
As the old legends relate, he next made a journey to Rome, in
order to receive full powers and consecration to his office from the
Roman bishop. The news of the death of the archdeacon Palladius,?
who had been sent from Rome as a missionary to Ireland, but had
accomplished very little on account of his ignorance of the language,
having just arrived there, (in the year 482,) the Roman bishop, Sixtus
TII., did not hesitate to appoint Patrick in his place. We cannot, it
is true, pronounce this tradition at once to be false; yet we shall be
struck with many difficulties upon examining it. If Patrick came to
Ireland as a deputy from Rome, it might naturally be expected that in
the Irish church a certain sense of dependence would always have been
preserved towards the mother church at Rome. But we find, on the
contrary, in the Irish church afterwards, a spirit of church freedom
similar to that shown by the ancient British church, which struggled
against the yoke of Roman ordinances. We find subsequently among
the Irish a much greater agreement with the ancient British than with
Roman ecclesiastical usages. This goes to prove that the origin of this
church was independent of Rome, and must be traced solely to the
people of Britain. Moreover, Patrick could not have held it so neces-
sary as this tradition supposes he did, either as a Briton or according
to the principles of the Gallic church, to obtain first from the Roman
bishop full powers and consecration for such a work. Again, no indica-
tion of his connection with the Roman church is to be found in his con-
fession ; rather everything seems to favor the supposition, that he was
ordained bishop in Britain itself, and in his forty-fifth year.2 And it
1 His biographer, Jocelin, a writer in the
12th century, makes his journey to France
follow after his return to Ireland; and this
harmonizes, moreover. with the confessions
of Patrick; although it is possible that,
immediately after his release, since this
took place in France itself, he entered on
his travels to visit the more celebrated clois-
ters of this country. That he maintained
an intimate correspondence with the pious
men of southern France, may be gathered
from his confessions, where he says that he
would be glad to visit once more, not only
his native country, but also Gaul: Kram
usque Gallias, visitare fratres, et ut viderem
faciem sanctorum Domini mei.
2 From the notices of Prosper Aquitani-
cus, it appears that the bishop Coelestinus
of Rome had ordained Palladius as a bish-
op for the Scots, by whom perhaps may
have been intended the Irish; and, accord-
ing to these accounts, he must have accom-
plished a good deal. But Prosper may
perhaps have received, at his distance from
Rome, exaggerated stories. He says in his
Chronicle, under the year 431: Ad Scotos
in Christum credentes ordinatus a Papa Ceeles-
tino Palladius, et primus episcopus mitti-
tur; and in the liber contra Collatorem,
c. 21, ὁ 2: Ordinato Scotis episcopo, fecit
etiam barbaram (insulam) Christianam.
The tradition of the mission of Palladius
to Ireland seems, according to the citations
of Jocelin, to have been preserved in that
country for a long period ; but also the tra-
dition that the conversion of the nation
was not due to his labors, but was reserved
for those of Patrick.
8 Patrick intimates in his confession,
c. 3, that some respectable clergymen in
124 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
may be easily explained, how the tendency of later monks, to trace the
founding of new churches to Rome, might, among so many other fabu-
lous legends, give rise also to this.
_ Arrived in Ireland, he possessed a great advantage in: prosecuting
his work, from his knowledge of the customs and the language of the
country. He assembled around him in the open fields, at the beat of:
a drum, a concourse of people; where he related to them the story
of Christ, which relation manifested its divine power on their rude
minds. It is true, the people were excited against them by those power-
ful priests, the Druids; but he did not allow himself to be frightened
on this account. As the chief men had it in their power to do him the:
most injury, while they remained under the dominion of these Druids,
he labored especially to gain access to them. Perhaps numbers were
already prepared for the faith in the gospel, like that Cormac, an Irish
prince, belonging to the last times of the fourth century, who, after hav-
ing abdicated his government and given himself up to silent reflection
and religious contemplation in solitude, is said to have come to the con-
viction of the vanity of the Druidical doctrines concerning the gods.1
A proof of the power exercised by Patrick over the youthful mind
is seen in the way in which he is said to have drawn to him those who
were to be his successors in the guidance of the Irish church. He came
into the house of a person of rank, taught there, and baptized the
family. The young son of the house was so attracted by the impression
of the looks and words of Patrick, that he could never afterwards be
separated from him. He followed him and kept close to him amid all
his dangers and sufferings. Patrick 15 said to have named him Benig-
nus, on account of his kindly nature. He is said also to have converted
one of the chief bards, called Dubrach MacValubair ; and the minstrel
who had been used to rehearse the Druidical doctrine of the gods, now
composed songs in praise of Christianity ?— a cireumstance which would
have no inconsiderable influence on a people naturally inclined to:
poetry and music.
The lands which he received as presents from converted chieftains,
Patrick applied to the founding of cloisters, having contracted in France
a predilection for the monastic life. The cloisters were designed to
serve as nursing schools for teachers of the people, and from them was
to proceed the civilization of the country. Although Patrick was quali-
fied himself to impart but little scientific instruction to his monks, yet
Britain opposed his consecration to the
episcopal office. He intimates that his ene-
mies turned against him the confession of
asin, committed thirty years before, which
confession he had made before he was cho-
sen deacon. And from what follows, it is
quite evident that this has reference to
something he had done when a boy of
Jifteen. It would follow from this, then,
that he was ordained bishop in his forty-
fifth year, and so probably commenced his
labors in Ireland in the same year of his
life. Now if we could also determine with
accuracy the year of his birth, we might fix
precisely the year of his episcopal ordina-
tion and his missionary journey. But this
is a point with regard to which nothing ean
be considered as settled; the chronological
data of the traditions, both in Usher and in
Jocelin, being, to say the least, extremely
uncertain.
1 See the History of Ireland, by F. War-
ner, vol. I. p. 247.
2 Jocelin. c. V.'§ 88. Mensis Mart. ἃ.
XVII.
IRELAND. THE GOTHS.
ULPHILAS. 125
he infused into them the love of learning, which impelled them subse-
quently to seek for more information, and for books, in Britain and
France. Yet he gave them the first means of all culture, in inventing
an alphabet for the Irish language.1_ He had much to bear continually
from the opposition of the pagan chiefs. He was once, with his attend-
ants, fallen upon by one of these chiefs, robbed, and detained fourteen
days in captivity. Often he sought to purchase quiet for himself and
his friends by presents. And it was not with Irish Pagans alone that
he had to contend. A piratical British chieftam, named Corotic, from
the district of Wallia, (Wales,) fell upon a number who had been re-
cently baptized by Patrick, carried off a part of them captives, and sold
them as slaves to heathen Picts and Scots. ΤῸ this man, who professed
outwardly to be a Christian, Patrick wrote an emphatically threatening
letter, which has been preserved, and excommunicated him from the
church. Glad as he would have been to visit his old friends in Britain
and in France, yet he could not think it right to leave the new church.
(1 pray God,” he said, after a long residence among this people, “‘ that
he would grant me perseverance to enable me to approve myself a faith-
ful witness, for the sake of my God, to the end. And if I have ever
labored to accomplish anything good for the sake of my God, whom I
love, may he grant that, with those converts and captives of mine,
I may pour out my blood for his name!”
The Goths belonging to the stocks of Germanic descent, first had
opportunity of coming to the knowledge of Christianity by means of
their wars with the Roman empire, probably as early as the second
half of the preceding period. During those incursions which, in the
time of the emperor Valerian, they made into Cappadocia and the bor-
dering countries, they are said to have carried away captive many
Christians, and, among the rest, persons of the clerical order. These
remained with the Goths, propagated themselves among them, and
labored for the diffusion of Christianity.? Accordingly we find already
among the bishops who subscribed their names to the decisions of the
Nicene council, a certain Zheophilus, who is called bishop of the Goths.‘
From one of these Christian families of Roman origin, which had thus
continued to propagate itself among the Goths, Ulphilas, who is entitled
to the credit of having done most for the spread of Christianity and
Christian culture among the Goths, is said to have sprung.® Ulphilas
did the Goths important service in their negotiations with the Roman
emperors, a business for which he was eminently fitted on account of his
relationship with both nations. He thus won their love and confidence,
1 Of the zeal for the monastic life which
the fumily of Ulphilas originally belonged,
he inspired, Patrick speaks himself in his
we have the less right to call-in question
his statement.
confessions : Filii Scotorum et filiz regulo-
rum monachi et virgines Christi esse vi-
dentur. Opuscula Patricii, ed. J. Warsi,
pag. 16.
L. c. Wareus, p. 20.
8 Philostorg. IT. 5.
4 Socrat. hist. eccles. 1. IT. ¢. 41.
5 As Philostorgius, himself a Cappado-
cian, distinctly mentions the village to which
VOL. II. *
The manifestly German
name Wolf, Wdlfel, furnishes no proof to
the contrary ; for their residence among the
Goths might unquestionably have induced
the members of this family to give them-
selves German names. Moreover, Basil of
Cwsarea (ep. 165) says that the Goths re-
ceived the first seeds of Christianity from
Cappadocia.
196
CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
of which he eould avail himself to promote the spread of Christianity.
He was consecrated bishop of the Goths, and secured the means for a
permanent propagation of Christianity among them, particularly by in-
venting an alphabet for them, and by translating the holy scriptures
into their language.
He is said,
however, to have omitted in this
translation the books of the Kings, to which the books of Samuel, also,
were then reckoned, that nothing might be presented which was calcu- —
lated to foster the warlike spirit of the Goths.
Certain as these facts are in general, yet it is difficult to fix with
precision the time when Ulphilas first made his appearance as a teacher
amongst his people, and when he was employed in the negotiations with
the Roman empire ; for on these points there are many contradictory
statements in the historians of the church.?
1 Philostorg. IT. 5.
2 According to Philostorgius, Ulphilas was
employed in negotiations with the emperor
Constantine, who had a high respect for him,
and was used to call him the doses of his
time. Constantine permitted the Goths to
settle down in the district of Mosia. At
this time Ulphilas was consecrated bishop
of the Goths by Eusebius of Nicomedia.
According to Socrates, II. 41, Ulphilas sub-
scribed, in the first place, the Arian creed,
drawn up at Constantinople, in the year
360, under the emperor Constantius. Be-
fore this, he was an adherent of the Nicene
doctrine; for he followed the teaching of
the Gothic bishop Theophilus, who had been
one of the signers of the Nicene creed.
Next, the same church-historian relates, IV.
33, that the assistance and support which
the emperor Valens afforded to that portion
of the Goths to which Ulphilas belonged,
induced many of them at that time to em-
brace Christianity, but at the same time
also to espouse the Arian doctrine then pre-
vailing in the Roman empire. He places
the origin of Ulphilas’ version of the scrip-
tures as late as the time just referred to.
Sozomen (LV. 24 and VI. 37) agrees in
the main with Socrates, and only adds that
Ulphilas was at first a follower of the doc-
trines of the Nicene council; that, in the
time of the emperor Constantius, he had,
indeed, imprudently become intimate with
certain bishops of the Roman empire who
professed Arianism, yet continued to main-
tain his fellowship with the orthodox bish-
ops according to the Nicene council. But,
having come to Constantinople on occasion
of certain negotiations with the emperor
Valens, he was moved by the persuasions
of the dominant Arian bishops, and by
their promises to give him their support
with the emperor, to embrace Arianism.
Theodoretus, IV. 37, reports that the Goths
were devoted to the true faith until the time
of the emperor Valens; but that, under this
emperor, the Arian dominant bishop at
court, Eudoxius, represented to them that
These, however, admit of
agreement in religious doctrine would ren-
der the union between them and the Ro-
mans more secure. But he was able to
effect nothing with them until he applied
himself to their influential bishop, U!philas,
and succeeded, by persuasive speeches and
by money, to win him over. He so repre-
sented the matter as if the dispute between
the two parties related only to unimportant
ditferences, and was made so important
merely through their obstinacy and love of
dispute.
If we compare together these accounts,
we find that Philostorgius departs from all
the other church-historians in placing the
whole period of Ulphilas’ labors within the
reign of the emperor Constantine, and
making no mention whatever of the nego-
tiations in the time of Valens, which were
the most important. But as the accounts
of the others presuppose also that the Goths
had long been Christians; as Socrates and
Sozomen assume that Ulphilas was already
bishop in the reign of Constantius, the ac-
count of Philostorgius may certainly be
brought into agreement with these reports.
If it may only be supposed — against which
supposition there is no reasonable ground
of objection — that Ulphilas lived to a very
old age, it may be assumed, that he began
his labors as a bishop among the Goths as
early as the time of Constantine; for it is
very possible, certainly, that he may have
exercised the functions of the episcopal
office through a period of fifty years.
In the next place, it must be remarked,
that Philostorgius, being an Arian, had an
interest in making it appear that Ulphilas
was an Arian from the first; while, on the
other hand, the other church-historians, as
opponents of Arianism, were interested to
represent the fact as if Ulphilas was in the
first place orthodox, and to trace his defec-
tion from the orthodox doctrines to outward
influences and causes, and hence to fix the
time of this defection under the reign of an
emperor who was zealously devoted to
Arianism. It is very possible that Ulphi-
THE GOTHS. 127
ULPHILAS.
being reconciled with each other by supposing that Ulphilas first began
his labors, as a bishop among the Goths, in the time of Constantine ;
and that he continued to prosecute them until near the close of the
reign of the emperor Valens; that he repeatedly conducted the nego-
tiations between the Goths and the Roman empire, and in this way
ever rose higher in the confidence of the former.
Athanasius, in a work which he wrote while a deacon, previous to the
time of the Nicene council, speaks of the diffusion of Christianity among
the Goths, and alludes to the fact that the ameliorating influence of
this religion had already begun to manifest itself on that people.1 He
Says, with regard to the effects of Christianity among these rude
tribes: ‘* Who is it that has wrought this ; that has united in the bonds
of peace those who once hated one another ; — who else than the be-
loved Son of the Father, the common Saviour of all, Jesus Christ, who,
through love to us, suffered everything for our salvation? For already
of old the peace that should go out from him had been the subject of
prophecy, since the holy scriptures say, Isa. 2: 4: ‘Then they shall
beat their swords into plough-shares, and their spears into pruning-
hooks ; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they
learn war any more.’ And this is nothing incredible ; since even now
the barbarians, to whom savagery of manners is a nature so long as
they worship dumb idols, rage against each other, and cannot remain
one moment without the sword ; but, when they hear the doctrine of
Christ, immediately they turn away from war to agriculture ; — instead
of arming their hands with the sword, they lift them up in prayer; and,
in a word, from henceforth, instead of carrying on war with each other,
arm themselves against Satan, striving to conquer him by the bravery
of the soul. And the wonder is, that even they despise death, and be-
come martyrs, for the sake of Christ.”
The division of the Goths among whom Ulphilas appeared, were the
Thervingians, under king Fritiger — the West-Goths ; and these were
at war with the Greuthingians, whose king was Athanarich—the East-
Goths.?, When, therefore, Ulphilas labored to diffuse Christianity also
among the Greuthingians, his efforts met with opposition ; Christianity
was persecuted by them, and many died as martyrs.? The martyrs
certainly contributed greatly among the Goths also to the spread of the
gospel.*
The historian Eunapius relates that the Goths, in the time of the
las had received the simple form of the
doctrine of- Christ’s divinity from the older
Roman church; that in the beginning he
held simply to this, without taking any part
in the dialectic doctrinal controversies, un-
til, by coming in contact, in various ways,
with the Arian bishops, he was led to em-
brace the Arian system.
1 Athanas. de incarnatione verbi, § 51 et52.
2 See the passages above cited, from Soc-
rates and Sozomen,and Ammian. Marcellin.
81, 4, ete.
8 It is interesting to observe that Socrates,
IV. 33, recognized even among the Goths,
although they were Arians, the genuine
spirit of martyrdom. For he says, although
the barbarians erred through their simplici-
ty, yet they despised the earthly life for the
sake of the faith in Christ: ᾿Απλότητι τὸν
χριστιανισμὸν δεξάμενοι, ὑπὲρ τῆς εἰς Χριστὸν
πίστεως τῆς ἐνταῦϑα ζωῆς κατεφρόνησαν.
4 Comp. Basil. Ο:βαιθθηβ. ep. 155, 164,
165, in which letters of about the year 374,
‘mention is made of the martyrs among the
Goths. Basil procured relics ‘of the mar-
tyrs who died there.
128 CHRISTIANITY BEYOND THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
emperor Valens, while they contrived to maintain in great secrecy the
ancient rites of their national religion, often assumed the outward show
of Christianity, and carried about with them pretended bishops in their
wagons, for the purpose of gaining thereby the favor and confidence of
the Byzantine court ; which they could the more easily deceive, as they
had among them people who wore the monkish dress, and whom they
pretended to call monks, because they understood in what high esteem
this class of men stood among the Christians.1_ It is true, the mere as-
sertion of this violent enemy of the Christians is no sufficient authority
for a fact of this sort. At all events, he expresses himself in too gen-
eral terms. Yet very possibly the Goths were shrewd enough to dis-
cern that, in this way, they could most easily deceive the Byzantine
court ; and it may be that, in some particular cases, they resorted to
this means of deception ; although, in the main, there can be no ques-
tion with regard to the reality of- the conversion of the Goths to Chris-
tianity.
The great Chrysostom, while patriarch of Constantinople, and during
his exile after he was expelled from Constantinople, labored earnestly
for the establishment of missions among the Goths. He set apart a par-
ticular church at Constantinople for the religious worship of the Goths ;
where the Bible was read in the Gothic translation, and discourses were
preached by Gothic clergymen in the language of their country. He
adopted the wise plan of here training up missionaries for the people
from among the people themselves. On a certain Sunday, in the year
398 or 399, after causing divine worship to be celebrated, the Bible to
be read, and a discourse to be preached, by Gothic ecclesiastics in the
Gothic tongue, to the great surprise no doubt of the refined Byzantians
in the assembly, who looked down upon the Goths as barbarians, he
took advantage of this remarkable scene, to point out to them, in the
example before their own eyes, the transforming and plastic power of
Christianity over the entire human nature, and to enlist their sympa-
thies in the cause of the mission. He delivered a discourse, which has
come down to us, full of a divine eloquence, on the might of the gospel,
and the plan of God in the education of mankind.2. Among other
things he remarks, quoting the passage in Isa. 65: 25: ‘* The wolf and
the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like the bul-
lock.’ The prophet is not speaking here of lions and lambs, but pre-
dicting to us that, subdued by the power of the divine doctrine, the
brutal sense of rude men should be transformed to such gentleness of
spirit, that they should unite togetherin one and the same community
with the mildest. And this have you witnessed to-day — the most say-
age race of men standing together with the lambs of the church — one
pasture, one fold for all — one table set before all.”” Which may refer
1 See Eunapii Excerpta, in Maii scripto- συροῦσι χιτώνια, πονήροις τὲ εἶναι καὶ πιτευ-
rum veterum nova collectio, Tom. II. Ro- ἔσϑαι, which the fierce enemy of Christian
mz, 1827, p. 277 and 78. Ἣν dé καὶ τῶν monasticism could not deny himself the
καλουμένων μονώχων map’ αὐτοῖς, γένος κατὰ gratification of adding.
μιμῆσιν τῶν πὰρα τοῖς πολεμίοις ἐπιτετηδε- 2 The VIII. Homily, among those first
μένων, οὐδὲν ἐχουσῆς τῆς μιμησέως πραγμα- published by Montfaucon, Tom. XII. opp.
τῶδες Kal δύσκολον͵ ἀλλ᾽ ἐξηρκεῖ gaia ivaria Chrysostom.
ITS PROGRESS AMONG THE GOTHS. 129
either to the common participation in the sacred word, which had been
presented first in the Gothic and then in the Greek language, or to
the common participation in the communion.
The Gothic clergy began already to busy themselves with the study
of the Bible. The learned Jerome was surprised, while residing at
Bethlehem, (in 403,) by receiving a letter from two Goths, Sunnia and
Fretela, making inquiries about several discrepancies which they had
observed between the vulgar Latin and the Alexandrian version of the
Psalms ; and Jerome begins his answer! in the following words : “* Who
would have believed, that the barbarian tongue of the Goths would in-
quire respecting the pure sense of the Hebrew original; and that,
while the Greeks were sleeping, or rather disputing with each other,”
(according to another reading —“ despising 1{,) ‘‘ Germany itself
would be investigating the divine word?”’? Jerome could say, that the
red and yellow-haired Goths carried the church about with them in
tents ; and perhaps, for this reason, battled with equal fortune against
the Romans, because they trusted in the same religion.?
The influence of Christianity was, perhaps, seen also in those who as
yet made no profession of it, when Alaric, the leader of the West-
Gothic army, captured Rome, and spread consternation all around.
The churches of St. Peter and St. Paul, and the chapels of the mar-
tyrs, became the universal places of refuge ; and they remained, with
all their treasures, and all the men who had fled to them, respected and
spared amid all the havoc of devastation. Not a man of the barbarians
touched these spots ; nay, they conveyed thither themselves many un-
happy individuals who had excited their pity, as to a place of safety.
Pagans, who had ascribed to Christianity all the calamities of the period,
and Christians, united here in giving thanks to God. ‘He who does
not see,” exclaims Augustin, speaking of this fact,‘ ‘“‘ that the thanks
for this are due to the name of Christ, to the Christian period, must be
blind ; he who does see it, and praises not God, is an ingrate ; he who
would hinder them that praise God, is a madman. Far be it from any
intelligent man to ascribe this to the rudeness of barbarians. He
bridled and tempered the savage nature of the barbarians in a miracu-
lous manner who had said long before: ‘Then will I visit their trans-
gression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless,
my loving-kindness will I not utterly take from them.’”’ Ps. 89 : 82,33.
1 Ep. 106, in the edition of Vallarsi;—in contemnentibus) Grecis, ipsa Germania
other editions, ep. 98. Spiritus Sancti eloquia scrutaretur ?
_ ® Quis hoc ecrederet, ut barbara Getarum ὃ Ep. 107 ad Letam, § 2. Getarum ruti-
lingua Hebraicam quereret veritatem; et Jus et flavus exercitus ecclesiarum circum-
dormitantibus, immo contendentibus (or fert tentoria.
4 De civitate Dei, 1. I. ο. 7
SECTION SECOND.
HISTORY OF THE CHURCH CONSTITUTION. CHURCH DISCIPLINE.
SCHISMS OF THE CHURCH.
I. History oF THE CHURCH CONSTITUTION.
1. Relation of Church to State.
In the relation of the church to the state, there occurred, with the
commencement of this period, a most important change, the consequen-
ces of which extended to all parts of the church constitution, and which
had an influence, in various ways, on the whole course and shaping of
the church development. In the preceding period, the church stood to
the state in the relation of an independent, self-included whole, and
was to the state, for the most part, an object of hostility. At all events,
the utmost which she could expect from the state was bare toleration.
The important consequence of this was, that the church was left free to
develope itself outwardly from its own inward principle ; — that no for-
eign might could imtroduce its disturbing influence ; and that the church
itself could not be exposed to the temptation of employing an alien
power for the prosecution of its ends, and of thus entering into a prov-
ince that did not belong to it. But, on the other hand, the church had
no immediate influence on civil society and its different relations. In
this there was much which stood in contradiction with the spirit that
animated the church; the transforming influence which Christianity
necessarily exercises on all with which it comes in contact, could not as
yet here manifest itself. Only in an indirect manner — and, in this
respect, we must allow, although in a very slow, yet in the safest and
purest way— could the church exert an influence on the state, by ever
drawing over more of its members into itself, and communicating to
them the spirit by whose influence everything must be made better.
Yet this, however, could not take place in all the members of the
church at once ; but only in those who, while they belonged to the visi-
ble church, belonged at the same time also, by the disposition of their
minds, to the invisible church. From such only could proceed the new
creation which the spirit of Christianity produces, as they alone had ex-
perienced this creation in their own hearts. But, with the commence-
ment of this period, the church entered into an entirely diferent rela-
tion to the state. It did not merely become a whole, recognized as
legal, and tolerated by the state, — which it had been already from the
reign of Gallien down to the Dioclesian persecution, — but the state
itself declared its principles to be those to which everything must be
subordinated. Christianity became, by degrees, the dominant state
religion, though not entirely in the same sense as Paganism had been
before. Church and state constituted, henceforth, two wholes, one
,
RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE STATE. 131
interpenetrating the other, and standing in a relation of mutual action and
reaction. The advantageous influence of this was, that the church
could now exert its transforming power also on the relations of the
state ; but the measure and the character of this power depended on
the state of the inner life in the church itself. The healthful influence
of the church is indeed to be perceived in many particular cases ;
though it was very far from being so mighty as it must have been, had
everything proceeded from the spirit of genuine Christianity, and had
the state actually subordinated itself to this spirit. But, on the other
hand, the church had now to struggle under a great disadvantage ; for,
instead of being left free, as it was before, to pursue its own course of
development, it was subjected to the influence of a foreign, secular pow-
er, which, in various ways, would operate to check and disturb it; and
the danger, in this case, increased in the same proportion as the politi-
cal life with which the church came in contact was corrupt, and a law-
less, despotic will ruled supreme, — a will which acknowledged no re-
straints, and which, therefore, whenever it intermeddled with the
church development, was prone to act after the same arbitrary manner
as it did elsewhere. So it actually happened in the East Roman em-
pire. Without doubt, it belongs to the essential character of Christi-
anity, that it can propagate itself even under the most depressing of
earthly relations, and, by the surpassing energy of its spirit, break
through every species of temporal bondage. ‘This was seen under the
empire of Pagan Rome, and in the Persian empire. Despotism, ar-
rayed in open hostility to Christianity, only served to call forth, in still
greater strength, the Christian sense of freedom rising superior to all
earthly constraint. But despotism in outward alliance with the church,
proved a more dangerous enemy. It was now necessary that one of
two things should happen ; — either the spirit of Christianity, as it be-
came more widely diffused, must — not by a sudden and glaring revo-
lution, but by its power in the heart, which is far mightier than any arm
of flesh — gradually introduce the order of law in the place of arbi-
trary despotism ; or the corruption of the state would introduce itself
into the church, as it actually did in the Byzantine empire. Further-
more, the church was now exposed to the temptation of appropriating a
foreign might for the prosecution of its ends ; a temptation ever ready
to assail man, the moment the spirit is no longer sovereign alone, but
the flesh intermeddles with its proper work. Looking only at the holy
end which he fancies himself in pursuit of, any means that can subserve
it seem good to him. He does not consider that the truth itself, forced
on man otherwise than by its own inward power, becomes falsehood.
How easily might the bishops, in their zeal, — more or less unwise,
more or less directed by selfish views, — be tempted to invite those em-
perors who professed to belong to the Catholic church, to assist in secur-
ing the victory for that which they deemed the pure doctrine, and in
crushing its adversaries ; — when, in fact, the Syrian bishops, in the
previous period, had already sought after the aid of a pagan emperor,
Aurelian, in a similar case!! And in cases of this sort, how invariably
1 See above, vol. I. sect. III. p. 1014.
132 RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE STATE.
did the wrong proceeding bring along its own punishment! In forget-
ting and denying its own essential character, on the simple preservation
of which its true power depends, — in consenting to make use of a for-
eign might for the furtherance of its ends, the church succumbed to
that might. Such is the lesson taught by the history of the church
of the Roman empire in the Hast.
The great change of which we speak, in the relation of the church .
to the state, must be ascribed to the transition of the Roman emperors
to the side of Christianity. The supreme magistrates now considered
themselves as members of the church, and took a personal share in its
concerns ; but it was no easy matter for them to fix the proper limits
to this participation, and, by so doing, to give up their relation as em-
perors to subjects. They would be strongly inclined to transfer the
relation they had stood in as Pagans to the pagan state-religion, over
to their relation to the Christian church. Yet they were here met by
that independent spirit of the church, which, in the course of three
centuries, had been developing itself, and acquiring a determinate
shape ; and which would make them see that Christianity could not,
like Paganism, be subordinated to the political interest. There had in
fact arisen in the church, as we observed in the previous period, a false,
theocratical theory, originating, not in the essence of the gospel, but in
the confusion of the religious constitutions of the Old and New Testa-
ment, which, grounding itself on the idea of a visible priesthood belong-
ing to the essence of the church and governing the church, brought
along with it an unchristian opposition of the spiritual to the secular
power, and which might easily result in the formation of a sacerdotal
state, subordinating the secular to itself in a false and outward way.
The emperors did in fact entertain precisely that view of the church
which was presented to them by tradition ; or rather, since —if we ex-
cept Valentinian II., who seems to have consistently carried through
one determinate theory — they had no judgment of their own, they were
involuntarily borne along by the dominant spirit. The entire church
constitution, as it then stood, appeared to them, equally with Christi-
anity, a divine institution, built on the foundation of Christ and the
apostles, in which nothing could be altered by arbitrary human will.
Add to this, that the same church constitution had acquired its form in
a time when the church was an independent society by itself, under the
government of the bishops.
This theocratical theory was already the prevailing one in the time
of Constantine; and, had not the bishops voluntarily made themselves
dependent on him by their disputes, and by their determination to make
use of the power of the state for the furtherance of their aims, it lay
in their power, by consistently and uniformly availing themselves of this
theory, to obtain a great deal from him. Thus, for example, in a re-
script of the year 314, when an appeal was made from an episcopal
tribunal to the imperial decision, he declared: ‘‘The sentence of the
bishops must be regarded as the sentence of Christ himself.’ ! But, on
1 Sacerdotum judicium ita debet haberi, Optav. Miley. de schismate Donatistar
ut si ipse Dominus residens judicet. See f. 184.
DANGERS RESULTING FROM IT. 133
the other hand, it flattered Constantine so to regard the matter, as if
God had made Aim master of the whole Roman empire, to the end that,
through his instrumentality, the worship of the true God might be eve-
rywhere extended and promoted. When, in a jesting tone, he once
observed to the bishops, at a banquet, that he too was a bishop in his
own way, — namely, a bishop over whatever lay without the church, —
he meant by this, that God had made him overseer of that which was
without the church, i.e., the political relations, for the purpose of or-
dering these according to the will of God; of giving the whole such a
direction, as that his subjects might be led to pious living.!’ The dis-
putes among the bishops on doctrinal matters led him, on the matter
of his relation to the church, to derive from this, his supposed vocation,
many consequences which, at the beginning, had never entered into his
thoughts. He exhorted them to unanimity ; and, when his exhortations
were unheeded, he resorted to such means for uniting the opposite par-
ties, as his sovereignty over the whole Roman state put into his hands.
He convoked an assembly of bishops from all parts of the empire, in
order to give a decision for all the Christians under his government.?
The decrees of these synods were published under the imperial author-
ity, and thus obtained a political importance. Those only who adopted
them could enjoy all the privileges of catholic Christians favored by
the state ; and, in the end, civil penalties were threatened against those
who refused to acknowledge them.
The codperation of the emperors having once become so necessary,
in order to the assembling of these councils and the carrying-out of
their decisions, it could, of course, no longer remain a matter of indif
ference to them which of the contending parties they should sustain
with their power. However emphatically they might declare in theory
that the bishops alone were entitled to decide in matters of doctrine,
still human passions proved mightier than theoretical forms. Although
these councils were to serve as organs to express the decision of the.
divine Spirit, yet the Byzantine cowtt had already prejudged the ques-
tion, as to which party ought to be considered pious and which impious,
wherever it could be contrived to gain over the court in favor of any
1 This remark of Constantine, which Eu-
sebius quotes, (de vita Constantini, 1V. 24, )
as he heard it at table from the emperor's
lips, has not so great importance in itself
considered; for in truth it was a mere pun,
from which no theory about church rights
could be drawn, —a sportive allusion to the
ambiguity of the Greek word ἐπίσκοπος,
which may be used to denote either a par-
ticular ecclesiastical officer, or an overseer
nerally : Ὡς dpa ein καὶ αὐτὸς ἐπίσκοπος,
ἀλλ᾽ ὑμεῖς μὲν τῶν εἴσω τῆς ἐκκλησίας, ἐγὼ
δὲ τῶν ἐκτὸς ὑπὸ ϑεοῦ καϑεστάμενος ἐπίσκο-
πος ἀν εἴην. Eusebius, who could best know
in what sense Constantine meant this to be
taken, understands by ἐκτὸς τῆς ἐκκλησίας,
simply the state, so far as Constantine ex-
ercised such oversight over his subjects as
to lead them, to the best of his ability, in
the way of pious living: ᾿Ακόλουϑα δ᾽ οὖν
VOL, II. 12
TO λόγῳ διανοούμενος, τοὺς ἀρχομένους ἀπάν-
τας ἐπεσκόπει, προῦτρεπέ τε ὅση πὲρ ἀν
δύναμις τὸν εὐσεβῆ μεταδιώκειν βίον. And,
in fact, he expresses himself in precisely
the same way in other public declarations
respecting the office entrusted to him by
God. See the first section.
2 Eusebius of Cesarea, the court bishop,
—whose views of the case cannot be con-
sidered, however, as the prevailing one at
that time, — derives this authority from the
fact, that God had entrusted the general
oversight of, the whole church to the empe-
ror, just as the oversight of their particular
dioceses belonged to the bishops,— a sort
of universal episcopate in relation to the
several individual bishoprics: Ola τὶς κοί-
νος ἐπίσκοπος ἐκ ϑέου καϑεστάμενος, συνόδους
τῶν τοὺ ϑέου λειτουργῶν συνεκρότει. De
vita Constantini, 1. I. ο. 44.
134 RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE STATE.
particular doctrinal interest ;!— or in case the court persecuted one of
the contending doctrinal parties merely out of dislike to the man who
stood at the head of it, then the doctrinal question must be turned into
a means of gratifying personal grudges.2 ‘The emperors were under no
necessity of employing force against the bishops: by indirect means,
they could sufficiently influence the minds of all those with whom
worldly interests stood for more than the cause of truth, or who were -
not yet superior to the fear of man. It was nothing but the influence
of the emperor Constantine which induced the Kastern bishops, at the
council of Nice, to suffer the imposition of a doctrinal formula which
they detested, and from which, indeed, they sought immediately to rid
themselves. The emperor Theodosius II. declared to the first council
of Ephesus, that no person who was not a bishop should interfere with
the ecclesiastical proceedings ;? and in this declaration he himself may
have been in earnest: but he was borne along by the current of a
powerful court party, which itself had combined with a party of the
bishops, and to this party he must serve as the instrument. The pious
and free-hearted abbot, Isidore of Pelusium, wrote to the emperor, that
no remedy existed for the evil in the church, unless he placed some
check on the dogmatizing spirit of his courtiers ;*— and the sequel
proved how entirely he was in the right.
It is true, powerful voices were heard simply protesting against this
confusion of political and spiritual interests ;° as, for example, Hilary
of Poitiers, who remarked well and beautifully to the emperor Constan-
tius: ‘It is for this purpose you govern and watch, that all may enjoy
sweet liberty. The peace of the church can no otherwise be restored,
its distractions can in no other way be healed, than by permitting every
man to live wholly according to his own convictions, free from all
slavery of opinion. Even though such force should be employed for
the support of the true faith, yet the bishops would come before you
and say: God is the Lord of the universe ; he requires not an obedi-
ence which is constrained, a profession which is forced. He does not
want hypocrisy, but sincere worship.”’ © But these isolated voices could
accomplish nothing in opposition to the great mass ; and they proceeded
mainly from those who were themselves made sore by oppression. Now,
as so much depended on the fact whether a party had the emperor’s
vote on its side, consequently every art was employed to secure this ;
all that was corrupt in the Byzantine court found its way into the bosom
of the church, — court parties became doctrinal parties, and the re-
1 As it had been contrived, before the as-
sembling of the council of Nice, to persuade
the emperor Constantine that the Arian
doctrine contained a blasphemy against the
divinity of Christ, and that the ὁμοούσιον
was absolutely required in order to main-
tain the dignity of Christ’s person.
2 As at the first council of Ephesus. where
the revenge of Pulcheria, who governed the
imperial court, turned the doctrinal contro-
versy into a means of removing the pa-
triarch Nestorius from Constantinople.
δ᾽ Αϑέμιτον, τὸν μὴ τοῦ κατώλογου τῶν
ἁγιώτατων ἐπισκόπων τυγχανόντα τοῖς ἐκκλη-
σιαστίκοις σκέμμασιν ἐπιμιγνῦσϑαι. See the
Sacra Theodos. II. in the acts of this coun-
cil.
4 Isidor. Pelusiot. 1. I.ep.311. Tapegeiag
τούτοις ϑεραπείαν, εἰ παυσείας τῶν δογμα-
τίσμων τοῦς σοὺς διακόνους.
5. Comp. the examples cited in the first
section, p. 33, 34.
6 Ad Constantium, 1. I.
PROVISION FOR THE SUPPORT OF CHURCHES. 135
verse. Imperial chamberlains, (cubicularii,) eunuchs, directors of the
princes’ kitchen,! disputed on formulas of faith, and affected to set
themselves up as judges in theological disputes. That which must pass
current for sound doctrine in the church was subjected to the same fluc-
tuations with the parties at court. At length, in 476, the usurper
Basiliscus, who enjoyed a brief authority, set an example wholly in ac-
cordance with the spirit of the Byzantine court, of effecting changes in
the ruling doctrines of the church by imperial decrees, and of settling
dogmatic controversies by a resort to the same expedient ; — and this
example was soon after but too eagerly followed by other emperors, such
as Zeno and Justinian. These attempts to rule over the conscience by
imperial mandates, opened a new source of disturbances and disorders
in the Greek church. It is true, that which had been obtruded upon it
from without, and which was alien from the whole course of the devel-
opment of the church at that time, could gain no substantial existence
within it ; but then a violent crisis was always necessary to throw it off
again. The proof of what has been asserted will be furnished in the
history of the disputes on doctrine. The Greek church presents here
a warning example for all ages. The church of the West developed
itself, in the main, with more independence ; because the theocratic
principle, of which we have spoken, obtained more power in it; because
the predominant authority of the Roman bishops formed a certain coun-
terpoise to the interference of the state; and because the more rigid
and less versatile spirit of the Western church gave less frequent occa-
sion for the interposition of a foreign power. ;
We shall now proceed to consider the relations of the church to the
state more in detail.
The state at present took some part in providing for the support of
the churches. More was effected in this respect by one law of Constan-
tine, than by all other means put together. This was a law which ex-
pressly secured to the churches a right which, perhaps, they had already
now and then tacitly exercised,? namely, the right of receiving legacies;
which, in the Roman empire, no corporation whatever was entitled to
exercise, unless it had been expressly authorized to do so by the state.
Such a law Constantine enacted in 321, assigning as the reason for it,
not the interests of the church, but the inviolable sacredness of the last
will.”
In part, zeal for the cause of the church, but partly also the delusive
notion that such gifts, as meritorious works, were particularly accepta-
ble in the sight of God, and that it was possible thereby to atone for a
multitude of sins, or both together, procured for the churches, especially
in large towns,‘ very considerable and very numerous donations. But
1 As for example, that chief cook who
was sent as a deputy from the court of the
emperor Valens to persuade Basil of Czsa-
rea not to show any opposition to doctrines
of the court. See Gregor. Naz. orat. XX.
f. 348. Theodoret. hist. eccles. 1V. c. 19.
2 For, during the persecutions in the third
century, we find it intimated that attempts
were made to deprive the churches of their
estates, which evidently they could have
come in possession of in no other way.
Consult the edict of Gallien. And Alex-
ander Severus had already conceded to the
Christians a public place as legally belong-
ing to them. See A¢lii Lampridii vita, c. 49.
Cod. Theodos. 1. XVI. Tit. IT. § 4.
4 Ammianus Marcellinus (1. XX VII. ὁ. 8)
speaks of the great wealth which the Ro-
180 RELATION OF THE CHURCH ΤῸ THE STATE.
it was undoubtedly the case, too, that the wealth of the church often
led the bishops of the large towns to forget the nature of their calling;
and dishonorable means were not seldom employed by worldly-minded
ecclesiastics, to increase the bequests in favor of the churches. It was
on this account the emperor Valentinian I. restricted this right by vari-
ous limitations ; and distinguished church-teachers complained, not so
much of these limitations, as of the fact that the clergy had rendered
them necessary.1
But in this case, too, as in all the appearances of the church at. this
period, the lights and shades should be compared together. We see,
on the other hand, pious bishops giving up, from Christian motives,
their title to bequests which, according to the civil law, they might
have received. A citizen of Carthage made over all his property, in
the expectation that he should have no children, to the church, reservy-
ing to himself only the use of it while he lived. But afterwards, when
he had children, Aurelius, contrary to the legator’s expectations, gave
back the whole: ‘ For according to the etvil law,” says Augustin, who
relates the case,” “he might have retained it, but not according to the
law of heaven.”’ And Augustin himself, who, indeed, was found fault with
by many because he had done so little to enrich the church, declared:
“That he who would disinherit his son to make the church his levatee,
might look for some other one to receive the inheritance besides Au-
gustin; nay, he hoped and prayed that he might look in vain for any
one.” 8
man bishops owed to the donations of the
matrons. His description shows to what
an extent the bishops of the great capital
of the world had, amidst the wealth and in
the splendor of their church, forgotten or
forfeited their spiritual character. He says,
it ought not to be wondered at. that the
candidates for the Roman episcopate were
ready to sacrifice everything to obtain it:
Cum, id adepti, futuri sint ita securi, ut di-
tentur oblationibus matronarum procedant-
que vehiculis insidentes, circumspecte ves-
titi, epulas curantes profusas, adeo ut eorum
convivia regales superent mensas. He says,
it had been happy for them, if they had fol-
lowed the example of many of the provin-
cial bishops, who, by their frugal and simple
mode of life, commended themselves in the
sight of God and all his true worshippers
as pure men. So speaks the Pagan. In
like manner Gregory of Nazianzen describes
the state which the bishops of Constantinople
were used to affect, — how, at their tables and
in the pomp and train of their attendants
with which they appeared in public, they
vied with the first men of the state, (orat.
XXXII. f. 526.) Hence it was too, that
men who were disposed to live as it became
bishops, such for example as Gregory of
Nazianzen and Chrysostom, were far from
being agreeable to the taste of many in
Constantinople.
1See Hieronym. in the celebrated letter
to Nepotianus, ep. 52,in which he places the
corruption of the clergy in contrast.with the
end of their calling : Nec de lege conqueror ;
sed doleo cur meruerimus hanclevem. Je-
rome doubtless had floating before his mind,
when he spoke of the corruption of the cler-
gy, what he had seen particularly at Rome,
(see ep. 22 ad Eustochium, § 28,) where he
presents a sad picture of the clergy, running
about to the houses of the rich matrons,
and seeking only to press donations out of
them. Si pulvillum viderit, si mantile ele-
gans, si aliquid domestics suppellectilis,
laudat, miratur, attrectat, et se his indivere
conquerens, non tam impetrat quam extor-
quet, quia singalz metuunt veredarium
urbis offendere.
2 Sermo 356, § 5.
3 So a certain Bonifacius, belonging to
the guild of the navicularii, whose employ-
ment was to convey grain in their vessels
to Rome, Constantinople, or Alexandria,
made the church at Hippo his legatee ;_ but
Augustin declined the bequest, because, in
case of shipwreck, the church would either
be obliged, by a judicial process and the ap-
plication. of torture against the. crew, to
prove that the mishap was unavoidable, or to
make good the loss to the state exchequer.
In respect to the first alternative, it did not
befit the church, in the opinion of Augustin,
to subject mariners who had been rescued
from the waves, to the pains of torture. As
BENEVOLENT INSTITUTIONS. 187
And if it was often the case, especially in the larger towns, that
bishops might be found who applied the great incomes of their churches
to diffuse around them an air of state and splendor, there were, on the
other hand, shining examples of other bishops, who, living frugally
themselves, applied all they had to spare for the support of charitable
institutions. Beyond question, it lay in the power of the bishops to
make use of the largest revenues for good and benevolent purposes ;
for they not only had to provide for the expense of preserving the
churches, of maintaining divine service, of supporting the clergy, of
supplying the means of subsistence for the poor, who, in the great cities,
such as Constantinople, were very numerous and but too often suffered
to live in indolence ; but also, as a general thing, the establishments for
the reception of strangers, (evdvec,!) the alms-houses, (xrwxorpogeia,”) the
‘institutions for the support of helpless aged persons, (ynpoxoyeia,) the
hospitals and orphan-houses, (the νοσοκομεῖα and ὀρφανοτροφεῖα,Ὑ originated
in the churches, and the churches had to provide the means for their
support. A celebrated establishment of this kind was the one founded
by Basil, bishop of Czesarea, and which existed in the third and fourth
century —the Basilias,—an institution designed for the reception of
strangers, and to provide medical attendance and nursing for the sick
of whatever disease. Here everything was brought together that could
contribute to the welfare and comfort of the patients. The physicians
of the establishment resided within its walls, and workshops were pro-
vided for all the artizans and laborers whose services were needed : 8
so that Gregory of Nazianzen, in his funeral discourse at the death of
Basil,‘ could call this institution a city in miniature. Basil had also
caused similar alms-houses to be established in the country ; one in each
provincial diocese, (συμμορία,) placed under the care of a country bishop,
who had the supervision of its concerns.? Theodoret, bishop of Cyros,
who had a diocese which was poor on account of its location, was, not-
withstanding, able to save enough to erect porticos for the use of the
city, to build two large bridges, to construct a canal from the Euphrates
to the town, which had before suffered for the want of water, and to re-
pair and improve the public bath, which was so important a means of
health to the inhabitants of those hot districts.®
to the second, the church might not be pos-
sessed of the means. “ For,” says Augustin,
“it is not befitting the bishop to be amassing
money, and to push back the hand of the
beggar.” Possidius states, in the life of
Augustin, ¢. 24, that the latter would never
receive a bequest which injured in any way
the relations of the individual by whom the
gift was made. A respectable citizen of
Hippo had made over to the church an es-
tate, merely reserving to himself the use of
it while he lived. Afterwards he repented
of what he had done, and requested that
the papers might be returned to him, send-
ing in lieu of them a sum of money. But
Augustin sent back both, declaring that the
church would not receive forced gifts, but
those only which were made with a free will.
VOL. Ii. 15"
1 With regard to the ξενών : "Ἔστι κοίνον
οἴκημα, bro τῆς ἐκκλησίας ἀφωρίσμενον.
Chrysostom, in act. ap. hom. 45, near the
end. Of this institution, as an ancient one
in the church, though the name was new,
see Augustin. Tractat. 97, in Joh. § 4.
Xenodochia postea sunt appellata novis no-
minibus, res tamen ipse et ante nomina sua
erant, et religionis veritate firmantur.
2 These institutions for the poor were
under the supervision of clergymen, also of
monks, of κλήρικοι τῶν πτοχείων. Cone.
Chale. canon. 8.
8 See Basil. Cesareens. ep. 94, and Sozo
men. VI. 34.
4 See his orat. 30 and 27.
5 Basil. ep. 142, 143.
6 See Theodoret. ep. 81.
138 RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE STATE.
ΟΠ Among the favors bestowed by the state to further the ends of the
church, belonged the exemption of the clerical order from certain pub-
lic services (munera publica, λειτουργίαι.) Such pertained partly to cer-
tain classes of citizens, and in part they were attached to the possession
of a certain amount of property. Now, with these state burdens stood
connected, for the most part, the undertaking of certain kinds of busi-
ness and employments which were incompatible with the nature of the .
spiritual calling. For this reason, in the previous period, when no cal-
culation could be made on the disposition of the state to accommodate
the clerical order, a law had been passed that no person who was liable
to any civil imposition (seculo obstrictus) should be ordaimed to the
spiritual office! But the church having now been freed by Constan-
tine from these restrictions, it might be hoped that the like privileges
would be accorded to the clergy as were allowed to pagan priests, phy-
sicians, and rhetoricians. In fact, Constantine ordered by a law of the
year 319, after having already conceded to the clergy previous to 313
a certain degree of exemption, that they should be freed from all bur-
dens of the state.2 This unconditional exemption of the clergy from
those civil duties was destined to prove, however, the source of many
evils both to church and to state ; since it was the natural consequence
that numbers, without any inward call to the spiritual office, and with-
out any fitness for it whatever, now got themselves ordained as ecclesi-
astics for the sake of enjoying this exemption ;—— whereby many of the
worst class came to the administration of the most sacred calling? —
while, at the same time, the state was deprived of much useful service.
The emperor Constantine, in this collision of interests, sought to secure
only those of the state. That the true interests of the church could
not have been foremost in his thoughts is the more evident, since he
shows, by this law itself, how imperfectly he understood them. By a
law of the year 320, which presupposes the existence of a still earlier
one, he ordered that for the future no person belong to the families of
Decurions, no one provided with sufficient means of living, no one who
was fitted for the performance of those civil duties, should take refuge
in the spiritual order; that, as a general thing, new clergymen should
be chosen only to supply the places of those who had deceased,* and
these should be persons of small means, and such as were not bound to
τῇ ὑπηρεσίᾳ. Comp. also the acts of the
process against the bishop Antoninus of
Ephesus, in Palladius’ life of Chrysostom,
1 When for instance, Tertullian alleges
against the heretics, (praescript. c. 41,) that
they ordained seculo obstrictos, it may be
gathered from this, that the practice was
forbidden in the dominant church.
2 Cod. Theodos. }. 16, Tit. II. 1. 2.
3 Comp. what Athanasius (hist. Ariano-
rum ad Monachos, § 78) says of the Pa-
gans, who passed over from the senatorial
families to Christianity, for the purpose of
obtaining as ecclesiastics the ταλαΐπωρος
ἀλειτουργησία. Basil. Ceesar. ep. 54, respect-
ing such as got themselves ordained to the
inferior ecclesiastical offices in the country,
merely for the sake of eluding the obliga-
tion to do military service: Τῶν πλείστων
φόβῳ τῆς στρατολογίας εἰσποιούντων ἑαυτοὺς
opp. ed. Montfauc. T. XIII., where it comes
out that that metropolitan bishop sold epis-
copal dignities to such as were merely seek-
ing by episcopal ordination to be released
from the burdensome curial duties.
4 But what had promoted this certainly
excessive multiplication of ecclesiastics was
partly the number and magnitude cf the
external advantages, whereby the spiritual
order now became attractive to so many
who were not spiritually minded, and in
part the existence of so many church offi-
ces which required for their discharge
merely outward liturgical services
ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION. 139
take upon them any of those burdens of the state. They who were ob-
ligated to any of those duties, if they had crept into the clerical order,
were to be forcibly thrust back to their former condition, — for which
regulation Constantine gave this singular reason: ‘‘ The rich must bear
the burdens of the world, the poor must be maintained by the wealth
of the church ; "1 as if this were the object of church property and
of the church offices! But this restriction was not less unjust, than
the reason alleged for it was false; for it well might be that the very
men who. felt the inward call, and possessed the best qualifications for
the spiritual office, were to be found among the higher ranks in the
provinces ; while by such a law these were excluded. Yet with the
powerful influence of the spiritual order at court, under the Christian
emperors, it must often happen, as a matter of course, that such laws
would be evaded, and not unfrequently to the injury of the church.
Some wavering and uncertainty, too, soon began to show itself in the
execution of the law; expedients were devised to avoid injuring the
interests either of the state or of the church; and, finally, the law was
enacted that those who were under obligation to render such civil ser-
vices should, upon entering the ecclesiastical order, give up their prop-
erty to others who could discharge those services in their stead. It
was very justly given as a reason for this regulation, that, if they were
really in earnest in what they proposed, they must despise earthly
things. But it was certainly far from being the case that this law
could be strictly kept.?
The state allowed to the church a particular jurisdiction, when it
recognized, in a legal form, what had already obtained in the church
before. It was the rule, from the first, in the Christian communities,
that disputes between their members should ποὺ be brought before
heathen tribunals, but settled within their own body. This was be-
fitting the mutual brotherly relation subsisting between Christians ; and
it had been the course adopted already in the Jewish synagogues.
Paul had, in fact, expressly required this method of procedure, while
he regretted that such differences should exist at all among Christians.
When the episcopal form of church government became matured, it was
made a part of the function of the episcopal office to decide these dis-
putes. . Yet, hitherto, the sentence of the bishop stood valid only so
far as both parties had voluntarily agreed to submit to it. Constantine
made the sentence of the bishops legally binding, whenever the two
parties had once agreed to repair to their tribunal, so that no farther
appeal could:be made from it.? Thus a great deal of business of a for-
eign nature came upon the episcopal office. Bishops more spiritually
disposed ‘made it a matter of complaint, that so much of the time which
they were prompted, by the inclination of their hearts, to bestow on the
things of God, must be employed for the purpose of immersing them-
selves in the investigation of secular affairs. At the same time they
1 See Cod. Theodos. 1. 16, Tit. ΤΙ. 1. 6. 2 See the laws of the year 383, in the
Opulentos enim sxculi subire necessitates Titulus de Decurionibus.
oportet, pauperes ecclesiarum divitiis susten- 3 Sozomen. |. 1. c. 9.
tari. 4 When certain theological labors had
been committed by two African councils to
140 RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE STATE.
had to suffer no little vexation; for, however impartially they might
decide, they still exposed themselves to many an accusation on the part
of those who were looking merely at their own advantage, and who,
when the decision of the bishop was adverse to their interests, could
not pardon it in them that they must submit without any right of ap-
peal from an unfavorable sentence.1_ Yet, from love to their communi-
ties, they bore this burthen attached to their calling, grievous as it was
to them, with the selfdenial which an Augustin evinces, when from a
full heart he exclaims in the language of the 119th Psalm, ver. 115, (as
it is found in the Alexandrian version, ) ‘‘ Depart from me, ye evil-doers,
for I would study the commandments of my God;”’ and when he pro-
ceeds to say: ““ Wicked men exercise us in observing the command-
ments of God; but they call us away from exploring them, (from the
study of holy scripture,) not only when they would persecute us or
contend with us, but even when they obey us and honor us, and yet
compel us to busy ourselves in lending support to their sinful and con-
tentious desires; and when they require of us that we should sacrifice
our time to them; or when, at least, they oppress the weak, and force
them to bring their affairs before us. ΤῸ these we dare not say, Man,
who has made me a judge or a divider of inheritance over you? For the
apostle has instituted ecclesiastical judges for such affairs, in forbidding
Christians to bring suits before the civil tribunals.’’ Such bishops
might undoubtedly avail themselves also of this opportunity of becoming
better acquainted with the members of their flock, of diffusing among
them the spirit of unanimity, and of opportunely dropping many a prac-
tical admonition. But to worldly-minded bishops, it furnished a wel-
come occasion for devoting themselves to any foreign and secular affairs,
rather than to the appropriate business of their spiritual calling; and
the same class might also allow themselves to be governed by impure
motives in the settlement of these disputes.
In many cases, it was apparent that the gradually forming hierarchy
furnished a salutary counterpoise against political despotism. The
bishops acquired a great deal of influence in this respect, owing to the
point of view in which the external church and its representatives ap-
the care of the bishop Augustin, who was
now advanced in years, he agreed with his
community, that, for the purpose of execut-
ing these, he should be spared from attend-
ing to their business during five days in the
week. A formal protocol or bill (gesta ec-
clesiastica) was drawn up, specifying what
the church had conceded to him; but he
was soon besicged again, so that he was
compelled to say: Ante meridiem et post
meridiem occupationibus hominum impli-
cor, (See the gesta ecclesiastica Angusti.
ep. 213.) In the Greek church, the case
may have been, however, that bishops,
whether for the purpose of devoting them-
selves with greater blessing to other kinds
of labor, or whether it was simply out of
indolence, turned over these matters of busi-
ness to certain members of their. clergy,
whom they invested with full powers for
transacting them. At least, Socrates inci-
dentally relates this of a certain Silvanus,
bishop of Troas, a man inclined to ascetic
retirement, belonging to the first times of
the fifth century, without remarking that it
was anything unusual. But when this
good bishop observed that the clergy to
whom he had entrusted this business were
endeavoring to make gain of it without re-
gard to right, he committed the investiga-
tion to a justice-loving layman. Socrat.
VII. 37. .
1See Augustin. in 7. 25, § 13, Τ᾿ IV.
f. 115. Etsi jam effringi non potest, quia
tenetur jure forte non ecclesiastico, sed
principum seculi, qui tantum detulerunt ec-
clesiz, ut quidquid in ea judicatum fucrit
dissolvi non possit.
INTERCESSIONES. 141
peared to the men of this period, and gradually also through the habits
and customs of the people; since the prevailing ideas passed over into
life, before anything came to be determined by the laws.
To this kind of influence belongs that which the bishops obtained
by their intercessions (intercessiones.) It was then not unusual for
persons who enjoyed some reputation as men of learning, as rhetori-
cians, to avail themselves of this for the purpose of interceding with the
great, who affected to patronize science, in behalf of the unfortunate.
But that this custom should pass over especially to the bishops, was a
natural consequence of the new direction which Christianity gave to the
mode of contemplating the forms of social life. New ideas of the
equality of all men in the sight of God ; of the equal accountableness
of all; of mercy, love, and compassion, were diffused abroad by Chris-
tianity. Christian judges and magistrates were uncertain how they
should unite the discharge of their official duties with what was required
of them by the precepts of Christ. In the previous period, one party
of Christians, in fact, held the administration of such offices to be incom-
patible with the nature of the Christian calling. The council of El-
vira (in 305) directed that the supreme magistrates in the municipal
towns, the Duwmviri, (though these were not called upon to pronounce
sentence of death,) should not enter the church during the year of their
office. The council of Arles, in 314, directed indeed that the presi-
dents in the provinces, and others who were incumbents of any civil
office, should continue to remain in the communion of the church,? yet
charged the bishops in the places where they exercised their civil func-
tions, with a special oversight of them; and, when they began to act
inconsistently with their Christian duties,? they were then to be cut off
from the church fellowship. Thus, then, it camé about that conscien-
tions Christians who occupied official stations, whenever they were
beset with doubts from the above-mentioned causes, had recourse to the
bishops for instruction and for the quieting of their scruples. For
example, a certain functionary, by the name of Studius, betook him-
self, in a case of this sort, to Ambrosius, bishop of Milan. The latter
told him that according to Romans 13, he was authorized to employ the
sword for the punishment of crime, yet proposed for his imitation the
pattern of Christ in his conduct towards the woman taken in adultery
(John, c. 8.)* If the transgressor had never been baptized, he might
still be converted, and obtain the forgiveness of sin: if he had been
already baptized, he could yet repent and reform. Ambrosius says on
this occasion that those who pass sentence of death would not, indeed,
be excluded from the communion of the church, since they are justified,
by the above-cited declaration of the apostle, to pass such a sentence ;
1C. 56. Magistratum uno anno, quo agit * An example, indeed, which did not
duumviratum, prohibendum placuit, ut se wholly apply in the present case; for it was
ab ecclesia cohibeat. one where the question was not a juridical,
2 Litteras accipiant ecclesiasticas commu- but a religious and moral one. But Am
nicatorias, ¢. 7. brose was for ennobling the juridical posi-
ὃ Cum cceperint contra disciplinam agere. tion by that of morality and religion
142 RELATION OF THE CHURCH ΤῸ THE STATE.
but that the majority, however, did abstain from the communion, and
that their conduct in this respect was to be approved.!
In this way it came about that the bishops gradually obtained the
right of exercising a sort of moral superintendence over the discharge
of their official duties by the governors, the judges, the proprietors, who
belonged to their communities ;?—- an authority which was not always,
indeed, alike respected ; — that they were empowered, in the name of
religion, to intercede with governors, with the nobles of the empire, and
even with the emperors, in behalf of the unfortunate, the persecuted,
the oppressed ; in behalf of individuals, entire cities and provinces, who
sighed under grievous burdens, laid on them by reckless, arbitrary ca-
price, or who trembled in fear of heavy punishments amidst civil dis-
turbances. Where the fear of man made all others mute, it was not sel-
dom they alone who spoke out in the name of religion and of the church,
who ventured to utter themselves with freedom; and their voice might
sometimes penetrate to the consciences of those who were intoxicated
by the feeling of their absolute power, and surrounded by servile flat-
terers.
Some examples will render this clear. When the separation of the
province of Cappadocia into two provinces, (Cappadocia prima et se-
cunda,) under the emperor Valens, in the year 371, had reduced the
inhabitants, who thus lost much of their gain and were oppressed by a
double weight of civil burdens, to great distress, it was the bishop
Basil of Caesarea who interceded — to no purpose indeed — with the
great, and, through them, with the emperor, in behalf of the whole
province. Among other things, he thus wrote to one of the nobles : 3
“δ could boldly tell the court that they were not to imagine they
should have two provinces instead of one; for they would not have se-
cured another province from some other world, but have done just the
same as if the owner of a horse or of an ox sheuld cut him in halves,
and suppose that by so doing he obtained two instead of one.” When,
in the year 387, a popular movement at Antioch, which had been
brought about by the oppression of excessive taxes, gave reason to fear
a severe retribution from the emperor Theodosius, who might easily be
hurried, in a momentary paroxysm of passion, to the extremest meas-
ures, and all was in a state of the utmost confusion, the aged and sick
bishop Flavianus proceeded himself to Constantinople. Said he to the
emperor: ‘I am come, as the deputy of our common Master, to ad-
1 According to the old editions, ep. ad
Studium, 1. VIL. ep. 58.
2 By a law of the year 409, which di-
rected the judges on all Sundays to interro-
gate prisoners, whether they had experienced
humane treatment, it was at the same time
presupposed, that the bishops felt it incum-
bent on them to exhort the judges to hu-
mane treatment of their prisoners: Nec
deerit antistitum Christiane religionis cura
laudabilis, quae ad observationem constituti
judicis hane ingerat monitionem. Cod.
Theodos. 1. XI. Tit. IIL. 1.7. By a law of
the emperor Justinian, of the year 529, it
was devolved on the bishop, on Thursday
and Friday, (probably on these days in par-
ticular on account of the memory of Christ’s
passion,) to visit the prisons, to inquire into
the crimes for which each person was con-
fined, and accurately inform himself with
recard to the treatment he met with, and
point out to the higher authorities every-
thing that was done contrary to good order.
They were also to see to it, that no one
should be held in confinement elsewhere
than in the public prisons. See Codex Jus-
tinian. 1. I. Tit. IV. 1. 22 and 28.
3 Ep. 74 ad Martinian.
INTERCESSIONES. 148
dress this word to your heart: ‘If ye forgive men their trespasses,
then will your heavenly Father also forgive you your trespasses.’ ἢ
These words, to which he gave a still more pointed emphasis by allud-
ing to the import of the approaching festival of Easter, so profoundly
affected the heart of an emperor easily susceptible of religious impres-
sions, that he exclaimed: ‘ How could it be a great thing for me, who
am but a man, to remit my anger towards men, when the Lord of the
world himself, who for our sakes took the form of a servant, and was
crucified by those to whom he was doing good, interceded with his
Father in behalf of his crucifiers, saying: ‘ Forgive them, since they
know not what they do’?’’ All that had been done, he promised should
be forgotten, and Flavian should hasten back to convey the glad tidings
to his community before the commencement of the Easter.1
It cannot be denied, indeed, that while pious and prudent bishops
effected much good by a discreet resort to these intercessions ; others,
by a haughty abuse of them, by hierarchical arrogance, by a confusion
of the Christian and the juridical point of view, to which they obsti-
nately clung, might seriously interfere with the civil order.2 Yet the
injury which thence resulted in the case of particular individuals, is
certainly not to be compared with the benefits which accrued, in vari-
ous ways, from the intercessions of the bishops in behalf of the innocent
who were oppressed, and of the weak who were abandoned to the ca-
prices of passion and arbitrary power.? The bishops were considered
particularly as the protectors of widows and orphans. The dying, who
left orphan children behind them, commended them, in that period of
despotic authority, to the protection of the bishops. The property of
widows and orphans, which there was cause to fear might fall a prey to
the rapacity of the powerful, was placed under the guardianship of the
1See Chrysostom. orat. 20, de statuis,
near the end. In the same manner Theo-
doret interceded with great men and with
the imperial princess Pulcheria, in behalf
of the inhabitants of his poor church dio-
cese, who were calumniated at the court,
and oppressed by heavy tributes. (See ep.
42, and the following.) So Augustin used
the most earnest remonstrances with a rich
landholder, by the name of Romulus, who
was in the practice of unjustly oppressing
the poor people of the country, and who
had avoided speaking with Augustin him-
self; and he closed with these words: “Fear
God, unless you wish to deceive yourself:
I call him to witness on your soul, that,
while saying this, I fear more for you than
for those in behalf of whom I may seem to
intercede. If you believe, let God be
thanked. If you do not believe, I comfort
myself in what the Lord says, Matth. 10:
13. Augustin. ep. 947.
2 Respecting such haughtiness of the bish-
ops, a certain judge, by the name of Mace-
donius, complains in a letter to Augustin,
(ep. 152,) to whom he states his doubts
about the reasonableness of intercessions.
He denounces those who complained of
wrong, when their intercessions, however
unreasonable, met with no hearing; from
whom, however, he altogether distinguishes
such men as Augustin, The latter, in re-
ply, explains at large his deliberate judg-
ment respecting the end, the right and the
wrong use of the episcopal intercessiones, ep.
153. ΤῸ guard against such abuses, it was
ordered by a law of the year 398, that the
monks and the clergy should not be per-
mitted to snatch condemned malefactors
from their merited punishment; yet they
were allowed, even by this law, to resort to
a legal intercession, as a sort of reparation |
for this infringement on their rights. Cod.
Theodos. |. LX. Tit. 40, 1. 16.
3 How common it was for those whose
life or freedom was suddenly endangered
by powerful enemies, or for their relatives
and friends, to enter the church and apply
to.the bishop for his speedy assistance, is
seen from Augustin. p. 161, § 4, p. 368, § 3.
Videtis, si cujus vita praesentis seculi peri-
clitetur, quomodo amici ejus currunt pro
eo, quomodo curritur ad ecclesiam, rogatur
episcopus, ut intermittat, si quas habet ac-
tiones, currat, festinet.
144
churches and the bishops.?
RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE STATE.
Ambrosius, bishop of Milan, reminds his
clergy of the fact, how often he had withstood the attacks of the impe-
rial power in defending the property of the widow; nay, of all;— and
he says to those clergy that they would thereby magnify their office, if
the attacks of the powerful, under which the widow and the orphan
must succumb, were warded off by the protection of the church; if
they showed that the precept of the Lord had more weight with them
than the favor of the rich.?
It was the same with another right which the churches gradually
obtained by traditional usage. As the pagan temples had been already
considered asylums for such as fled to them for refuge, and as the ima-
ges of the emperor served the same purpose, so now this use passed
over to the Christian churches. [0 is evident, from what has been said,
how salutary a thing this might prove under the circumstances of those
times ; since taking refuge in the asylum of the church, particularly at
the altar, afforded time for the bishops to intercede for the unfortunate,
before any injury could be done them. They who were persecuted by
a victorious party, in times of civil disturbance, could, in the first in-
stance, here find protection against the sword ; and the bishops, mean-
while, gain time to apply to the powerful for their pardon.
Many ex-
amples of this kind are furnished in the labors of Ambrose, during the
Western revolutions of his period.
Slaves could here find protection,
for the first moment, against the cruel rage of their masters, and sub-
sequently, by the interposition of the bishops, appease their anger.
Such as were by misfortune involved in debt, and persecuted by their
creditors, could here gain shelter for the first moment; and pious bish-
ops could, in the mean time, find means, either by a collection in their
communities, or by an advance of money from the church funds, of
cancelling their debt, or of effecting a compromise between them and
their creditors.? It is true, this right of the churches, which, under the
circumstances of those times, could be applied to such salutary pur-
poses, might also be abused by the hierarchical arrogance of some bish-
ops.4
This right was at first not conceded to the churches by a law,
but had its ground simply in the universal belief; and hence it hap-
pened, too, that it was often violated by rude, tyrannical men.
Pious
bishops here had an opportunity of evincing their steadfast courage in
protecting the unfortunate who had taken refuge with them, against the
rage of powerful enemies who would not suffer themselves to be re-
1 See Augustin. ep. 252; according to
other editions, 217. Sermo 176, § 2.
2 Ambrosius de officiis, 1. II. c. 29.
ὃ See Augustin. ep. 268 ad plebem; ac-
cording to other editions, 215.
4 An example in Augustin. ep. 250. Cer-
tain individuals guilty of perjury having
taken refuge in the church, the Comes Clas-
sicianus, accompanied by a few men, went
to Auxilius the bishop, for the purpose of
making such representations to him as
would prevent him from receiving them.
But though the guilty persons voluntarily
left the church, the haughty bishop, notwith-
standing, pronounced excommunication on
the entire family of the Comes. Augustin, on
the other hand, received the Comes into his
own communion, telling him that he had
nothing to fear from an unjust excommuni-
cation; and he wrote to the bishop: “ Be-
lieve not that we may not be hurried on by
an unjust anger, because we are bishops;
but let us rather think. that we live in the
greatest danger of being caught in the
snares of temptation, because we are men.”
CHURCH ASYLUMS. 145
strained by any respect for the asylum.! The first imperial law which
appeared with reference to the asylum, was in fact directed against it.
The case happened thus : — Chrysostom, the venerable bishop of Con-
stantinople, had defended a number of unfortunate individuals against
the arbitrary violence of the unprincipled, but for a time powerful, Eu-
tropius ; in consequence of which, the latter procured the enactment
of an express law, in 398, restricting this right of the church, which
had grown out of common usage and custom.” So much the stronger,
therefore, must have been the impression made on the popular mind,
when, in-the following year, Eutropius himself, having fallen from the
summit of earthly fortune to the lowest infamy, was obliged to seek
shelter, at the altar of the church, from the fury of the exasperated
Gothic troops to which the weak Arcadius was willing to abandon him ;
and it was Chrysostom who defended him there. A great effect was
also produced by an incident which occurred in Constantinople itself,
under the reign of Theodosius II. Certain slaves of one of the chief
men of the city took refuge, from the harsh treatment of their cruel master,
in the sanctuary of the principal church. ‘There, for several days in
succession, they disturbed the divine service; and when at length re-
sort was had to force against them, they killed one of the ecclesiastics,
wounded another, and then put an end to their own lives.®
This and
similar occurrences led finally to the enactment of the first law for the
asylum of the church, in the year 431.
It was here settled that not
only the altar, but whatever formed any part of the church buildings,
should be an inviolable place of refuge.*
It was forbidden, on pain of
death, forcibly to remove those who had fled thither unarmed. Resort
1 Here follow two examples. A man of
some consequence and influence, owing to
his connection with the vicar-general of
Pontus. with whom he acted as assessor
judge, wished to compel a noble widow to
marry him. She fled to the asylum of the
church at Czesarea. -That governor, who
was besides an enemy of the bishop Basil,
gladly availed himself of this opportunity
to make him feel his power. But Basil re-
fused to deliver up the widow. The vicar
caused him to be arraigned before his tri-
bunal; but the people were excited, by this
course of proceeding, to such violent agita-
tion, that the governor, struck with fear,
finally himself implored Basil to use his in-
fluence in soothing them. See Gregor. Naz.
orat. 20, p. 353: In like manner, the bishop
Synesius of Ptolemais, in the early part of
the fifth century, had to contend with a
governor, Andronicus, who dealt in an ar-
bitrary manner with the lives and. property
of the citizens, sacrificing everything to his
avarice and his passions. He caused an
edict to be posted up on the doors of the
church, in which he threatened every eccle-
siastic who should give protection to his
unhappy victims. He declared that not
one should:escape his hand, even though he
clasped the feet of Christ. No asylum
TOL. I, 13
could afford shelter against such a man.
The only course that was left for Synesius
was to pronounce on him the sentence of
excommunication, ep. 58. Yet Andronicus,
who fell into disgrace with the court, and
was plunged in misfortune, was forced him-
self to seek protection from the church, and
Synesius received him. Ep. 90 ad The-
ophilum.
2 See Cod. Theodos. 1. 9, Tit. 45, 1. 3;
which law, to be sure, is not expressed in
general terms, but is properly directed only
‘against those who were bound under some
obligation to the state or to private persons,
which they were wishing to evade. Yet
the law, in the form in which it stood, might
easily be farther made use of also against
the asylum.
8 Socrates, VII. 33.
4 The reason alleged probably had some
reference to the fact that those cases in
which the violators of the asylum were sub-
sequently visited by some great calamity,
which was generally regarded as a divine
punishment, particularly contributed to pro-
mote the feeling of reverence for the asy-
lum: Ne in detrahendos eos conetur quis-
quam sacrilegas manus immittere; ne, qui
hoc ausus sit, cum discrimen suum videat,
ad expetendam opem ipse quoque confugiat.
140 INTERNAL ORGANIZATION. THE PRIESTHOOD.
might be had to force only against such as took refuge to those places
with weapons in their hands, and who refused to give them up at the
repeated solicitations of the clergy.!_ In a law, passed in the following
year, it was ordered that whenever a servant fled unarmed to the
church, the clergy should delay giving information of it to the master,
or to the person whose vengeance he was endeavoring to escape, no
longer than a day ; and that the latter, out of regard to him to whom ᾿
the fugitive had fled for refuge, should grant him full forgiveness, and
receive him back without the infliction of any further punishment.
2. Internal Organization of the Church.
Two things had a special influence in modifying the development of
the church constitution in this period; first, that confounding of the
Old and the New-Testament view of the theocracy which had prevailed
and proved so influential in the previous period ; secondly, — what be-
came accessory to this in the period before us,— the union of the
church with the state ; which union, although really in conflict with the
theocratic principle above mentioned, was, notwithstanding, indirectly
promoted by it. For the more the church strove after outward domin-
ion, the more was she liable to go astray, and to forget, in this outward
power, her own intrinsic essence as a church of the spirit, and the more
easy it became for outward power to obtain dominion over her; as it
was true, on the other hand, that the more clearly she retained the con-
sciousness of her own intrinsic essence as a church of the spirit, and
the less she was tempted to strive after dominion otherwise than through
the spirit, through the power of the gospel, the purer she was en-
abled to maintain herself from all corrupt intermixture of the worldly
principle.
The central point of the theocratic church system was the idea of a
visible, outward priesthood, serving as the medium of connection be-
tween Christ and the church ; of a sacerdotal caste distinctively conse-
crated to God, and requisite for the life of the church, — through
which order alone the influences of the Holy Spirit could be diffused
among the laity. This idea had, in the previous period, become already
a dominant idea in the church, and had exerted the greatest influence
in changing and modifying all ecclesiastical relations. Though this idea
was employed by such church-teachers as Chrysostom and Augustin
only for the purpose of setting in its true light the religious and moral
dignity of the spiritual order, and of bringing it home to the hearts of
such as were intending to form themselves for this order ; and though
such men meant by no means to disparage thereby the dignity of the
universal Christian calling, yet thus the germ of many other errors came
to be once introduced. Hence the false antithesis now set up between
spiritual and secular, which had so injurious an influence on the whole
Christian life, and by which the lofty character of the universal Chris-
tian calling was so much lowered. Hence the delusive notion that the
clergy, as super-earthly beings, must withdraw themselves from all con-
1 Cod. Theodos. I. 9. Tit. 45, 1. 4.
CELIBACY OF THE CLERGY. 147
tact with the things of sense ; and hence the erroneous notion that the
priestly dignity was desecrated, was too much drawn down to the earth,
by the married life. It would be doing wrong to this period to assert
that such an opinion was purposely invented, or set afloat, with a view
to enhance thereby the dignity of the spiritual order. Ideas of this
sort, which reign supreme over an age, are, in general, not the contri-
vance of a few; and what has been thus purposely contrived can never
acquire such vast influence in shaping human relations. As that idea
of the priesthood had originated, as we have seen, in a declension from
the primitive Christian mode of thinking ; the same was true also of
this opinion, which naturally grew out of the idea of the priesthood, —
the opinion that the clergy, as mediators between God and men, as the
channels through whom alone the influences of the Holy Spirit must
flow to the rest of mankind, enchained to the world of sense, must
hence, in their whole life, be elevated above that world, — must keep
themselves free from all earthly ties and family relations. It is plain,
indeed, that in many nations not Christian, the idea of such a priest-
hood led to the same conclusion of the necessity of celibacy in the
priests ; and already, in the previous period, we observed a tendency
of the same kind among the Montanists.
This idea could not penetrate at once everywhere alike ; the primi-
tive Christian spirit still offered considerable resistance to it. The coun-
cil of Elvira in Spain, which met in the year 805, and was governed by
the ascetic and hierarchical spirit that prevailed particularly in the
Spanish and North-African churches, was the first to announce the law,
that the clergy of the three first grades should abstain from all mar-
riage intercourse, or be deposed.! Men. of the same bent of spirit
were for making this a general law of the church at the council of Nice;
but a bishop, whose opinion may have had the more weight because it
was unbiased, as he had himself led a strictly ascetic life from his youth
upward, —the bishop and confessor Paphnutius, — opposed this motion,
declaring that wedlock was also a holy estate, as Paul affirmed ; and
that the clergy who held that relation might lead, notwithstanding, a
holy life. No yoke ought to be imposed on men which the weakness
of human nature could not bear; and it would be well to use caution,
lest the church might be injured by excessive severity.2 Yet even
Paphnutius, plainly as he saw the mischief which must accrue from
such an ordinance universally imposed, was too much governed by the
spirit of his time to speak generally against the practice of binding the
spiritual order to celibacy. The old order of things was simply
retained, that ecclesiastics of the three first grades, when once or-
dained, should no longer be permitted to marry; and the rest was left
to the free choice of each individual. And this was not a thing alto-
gether new: the council of Neocesarea, in the year 914,3 had already
decreed that the presbyter who married should forfeit his standing; and
1 Placuit in totum prohiberi episcopis, 2 Socrat. I. II.
presbyteris et diaconibus, vel omnibus cleri- | * Canon 1
cis positis in ministerio, abstinere a con-
jugibus suis.
148 CELIBACY OF THE CLERGY.
the council of Ancyra, in the same year,! that the deacons who, at the
time of their ordination, should declare that they could not tolerate the
life of celibacy, might subsequently be allowed to marry; while those
who said nothing on this point at their ordination, yet afterwards mar-
ried, should be deposed from their office. How much the ascetic spirit
of the moral system which prevailed in many portions: of the Eastern
church, first giving rise to monasticism, and then receiving support from.
the same system, contributed to spread the erroneous notion of the ne-
cessity of celibacy to the sacred character of the priesthood, is made
evident by the decisions of the council of Gangra in Paphlagonia, some-
where about the middle of the fourth century; which council, at the
same time, deserves notice, as being opposed to this spiritual tendency
and to this delusion. Its fourth canon pronounces sentence of condem-
nation on those who would not hold communion with married ecclesias-
tics. ‘The practice became continually more prevalent, it is true, in the
Eastern church, for the bishops at least, if they were married, to aban-
don the marriage relation: yet we still find exceptions, even in the fifth
century ; as in the case of Synesius, who, when about to be made
bishop of Ptolemais in Pentapolis, signified to Theophilus, patriarch of
Alexandria, his intention of living in the same relations with the wife to
whom he himself had joined him; and yet he was ordained bishop.? It
was diferent with the Western church, where the law which Paphnu-
tius had turned aside, at the council of Nice, succeeded, nevertheless,
to establish itself. It had hitherto been nothing more than a funda-
mental principle in the usages of the church, when the Roman bishop
Siricius decreed the first ecclesiastical law on the subject. The occasion
of it was this : — Spanish presbyters and deacons resisted the unmarried
life ; and, as the whole idea of the church priests and sacrifices was
derived from the Old Testament, they appealed in their defence to the
fact that the Old-Testament priests lived in the state of wedlock. Hi-
merius, bishop of Taraco, in a letter to the Roman bishop Damasus,
which treated of various other ecclesiastical affairs, had also mentioned
this circumstance, and asked for advice. Siricius, who in the mean
time had succeeded Damasus in the episcopal office, replied in a letter
of the year 385, in which, by a singular perversion of holy writ, he
endeavored to prove the necessity of celibacy in priests ; and in which
letter, moreover, the connection of this error with the unevangelical
idea of the priesthood, and the unevangelical idea of what constitutes
holiness, is very clearly brought to view. The requisition to be holy
(Levit. 20: 7) is here confined solely to the priests, and referred
simply to abstinence from marriage intercourse ; and the bishop appeals
for proof to the fact that the priests of the Old Testament, during the
period of their service in the temple, were obliged to dwell: there, and
to abstain from all marriage intercourse ; — that Paul (Rom. 8: 8, 9)
says, they that are in the flesh cannot please God. And he adds:
1 Canon 10. Vigilantius: Quid facient orientis ecclesiz,
2 Jerome may perhaps have expressed quid A%gypti et sedis apostolic, que aut
himself, in his zeal, too generally, when he virgines Clericos accipiunt, aut continentes,
says, in the beginning of his book against aut si uxores habuerint, mariti esse desistunt.
EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. 149
“Could the Spirit of God dwell, indeed, in any other than holy
bodies ?”’ as though true holiness accordingly were incompatible with
the marriage estate, and the clergy were the only ones in whom the
Spirit of God resided. It was indeed true, that a considerable time
elapsed before the principle, established in theory, could be generally
adopted also in practice. There arose, even in the last times of the
fourth century, many men, superior to the prejudices of their age, such
as Jovinian, and perhaps also Vigilantius, who combated the doctrine
of celibacy in the spiritual order. Jovinian rightly appeals to the fact
that the apostle Paul allowed one to be chosen a bishop who had a wife
and children. And Jerome names bishops among the friends of Vigi-
lantius, who, because they feared the pernicious consequences to morals
of a constrained celibacy, would ordain no others as deacons but those
who were married.
This idea of the priesthood was bad, also, in its influence on the pre-
vailing notions with regard to the training necessary for those who were
preparing for the spiritual order. As many placed implicit confidence
in the magical effects of the priestly ordination, whereby the supernatu-
ral powers, of which the priest was to be the channel, were communi-
cated at once ; as they held the outward acts of the church, by which
the priest was supposed to set in motion the higher energies communi-
cated to him, to be the principal thing in the administration of his office ;
they were, for this very reason, led to suppose that no special previous
culture was necessary for this office.2_ It is true, the more eminent
teachers of the church—such men as Gregory of Nazianzus, Chrysos-
tom,? and Augustint — combated this delusion, and laid down many
wholesome and judicious rules for the education of the spiritual order ;
yet these injunctions, proceeding from individuals, could produce no
adequate effects, as they were not sufficiently sanctioned and upheld by
the decrees of councils.25 There was, moreover, a great want of insti-
tutions for the theological education of the spiritual order. The school
at Alexandria was at first the only one. This became distinguished
under the superintendence of the learned Didymus, who, although blind
from his youth, was one of the most accomplished church-teachers of
his time. Then arose, at the end of the fourth century, the theologi-
cal school of Antioch, the formation of which had been already pre-
pared, a century earlier, by the learned presbyters of that church.
1 See Hieronym. adv. Vigilant. at the
beginning. The frequent complaints about
the συνείσακτοι οὔ the clerzy,—against whom
canon 3 of the Nicene council is directed,
(vol. I. § 2, p. 467,) — prove the bad effects
which the rules of celibacy had on morals.
2 Gregory of Nazianz sarcastically de-
nounces this erroneous notion in his satirical
poem against the bishops, v. 503: ᾿Εΐποι τάχ᾽
ἀν τὶς we ἐπισκόπων χεῖρες | τότ᾽ ἐν μέσῳ
κήρυγμα (the public proclamation of the
choice made in the church;) λούτρου τὶς
χάρις (the ordination, a second baptism) ὥς
τ᾽ ἐκβοῶμεν. ὡς ἀν ἀξίοι μέσας | φωνάς, διδόν-
τες τὴν καϑάρσιν τῇ κλίσει (prayer over the
candidate who was kneeling) | καὶ τῷ τυραν-
VOL. 11. *
νησώντι δῆϑεν πνεύματι (as if the Holy Ghost
at the ordination wrought with irresistible
power) | κρίσει δικαίων καὶ σύφων ἐπισκόπων.
3 In his work, περὶ ἱερωσύνης.
4 In his work, de doctrina Christiana.
5In an old collection of ecclesiastical
laws, belonging to the fifth century, falsely
called the decisions of the fourth synod at
Carthage, c. 1. we find the only decree of
this sort, which is itself, however, very gene-
rally expressed: Qui episcopus ordinandus
est, antea examinetur, si sit literatus, si in
lege Domini instructus, si in seripturarum
sensibus cautus. si in dogmatibus ecclesiasti-
cis exercitatus. See Mansi Concil. Π11. 949
150 EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY.
This school rendered itself particularly distinguished by diffusing a
taste among the clergy for the thorough study of the scriptures.. From
this, as the mother, several others sprung up in the Syrian church,
whose salutary influence on that church continued long to be felt.!. In
the Greek church, it was the practice, as we may see in the examples
of Basil of Czsarea and Gregory of Nazianzus, for such young men
as were destined, by the wish of their families, to consecrate themselves
to the service of the church, to visit the schools of general education, ©
then flourishing at Athens, Alexandria, Constantinople, Caesarea in Cap-
padocia, and Czesarea in Palestine. Next, they passed some time in
pursuing the study of the ancient literature, either with particular
reference to their own improvement, or as rhetorical teachers in their
native towns ; until, by the course of their own meditations, or by some
impression from without, a new direction, of more decided Christian
Seriousness, was given to their life. In this case, it now became their
settled plan to consecrate their entire life to the service of the faith,
and of the church ; whether it was that they entered immediately into
some one of the subordinate grades of the spiritual order, or that they
preferred, in the first place, in silent retirement, by sober collection of
thought, by the study of the holy scriptures, and of the older church-
fathers, either in solitude or in some society of monks, to prepare them-
selves for the spiritual office. That previous discipline in general lite-
rature had, in one respect, a beneficial influence ; inasmuch as it gave
a scientific direction to their minds in theology, and thus fitted them
also for more eminent usefulness as church-teachers ; as becomes evi-
dent when we compare the bishops so educated with others. But, on
the other hand, the habits of style thus contracted, the vanity and fond-
ness for display which were nourished in those rhetorical schools, had
on many an influence unfavorable to the simplicity of the gospel, as may
be seen, for example, after a manner not to be mistaken, in the case of
Gregory of Nazianzus.
The cloisters, moreover, are to be reckoned, in the Greek church,
among the seminaries for educating the clergy; and, indeed, among
those of a healthful influence ; in so far as a practical Christian bent,
a rich fund of Christian experience, and an intimate acquaintance with
holy scripture, was to be acquired in them: but, on the other hand, it
is true, also, that a certain narrowness of theological spirit was engen-
dered in the cloisters, injurious in its influence on the education of
in the same manner as grammar and rhet-
oric were among the Romans.” The well-
known East-Gothie statesman and scholar
1 Hence the Nestorian seminaries for the
clergy were at the beginning particularly
distinguished ; as, for example, their school
at Nisibis in Mesopotamia, which had a
settled course of studies, and was divided
into several classes. The teachers and
students enjoyed special privileges in the
Nestorian churches (see Assemani Bibl.
Vat. T. III. P. 2,f.927.) The North-African
bishop Junilius, about the middle of the
sixth century, describes this school, in the
preface to his work de partibus divin legis,
as one “where the holy scriptures. were
expounded by teachers publicly appointed,
Cassiodorus, who was troubled to find that
in the West there were no public teachers
of the right method of scriptural exposition,
as there were of the right method of under-
standing the ancient authors, entered into
an understanding with the Roman bishop
Agapetus, that such a school should be
founded at Rome; but the stormy times
prevented the execution of: that. plan. See
preefat. 1. I. de institutione div. Script.
EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. 151
church-teachers, as may be perceived in the case of an Epiphanius ;
and those that received their education there were often at a loss how
to adapt themselves to wider spheres of spiritual activity, especially
when they were transferred at once to the great capital towns, as the
example of Nestorius shows. The awkwardness of their movements,
amid the intricate relations into which they were thrown, operated not
seldom to hinder and disturb them in their labors.
Anvexcellent seminary for the ecclesiastics, not merely of a single
church, but of an entire province, was often the clerus of a pious and
well-informed bishop. Young men, in this case, were first admitted
into the body as church readers or copyists (lectores or excerptores ; )
they were trained up under his eye, formed after his example, his
counsels, his guidance; they availed themselves of his experience, and
were thus introduced, under the most favorable auspices, into the field
of practical labor. Many pious bishops, such as Augustin and Euse-
bius of Vercelli, endeavored, by drawing still closer the bond of union
among their clergy, and inducing them to live together in common, to
carry still farther this disciplinary influence of theirs on. the younger
members of their order — the first germ of the canonical life, afterwards
so called.
We have already observed that, by the temporal advantages connected
with the spiritual profession, many who had neither the inward call nor
any other qualifications for this order, were led to aspire after church
offices ; so that, in fact, numbers became Christians solely with a view
of obtaining some post in the church, and enjoying the emoluments
therewith connected. Several synods of these times endeavored to
suppress this abuse. Already the Nicene council, in its second canon,
ordered that no one, after bemg instructed for a-short time, and then
baptized, should for the future, as had been done before, be ordained a
presbyter or a bishop; for some time was necessary for the probation
of a catechumen, and a still longer trial was requisite after baptism ;
and the council of Sardica, in its tenth canon, directed that if a person
of wealth, or from the arena of the forum, wished to become a bishop,
he should not attain to that office until he had gone through the fune-
tions of a reader, deacon and presbyter, and spent sufficient time in
each of these offices to make proof of his faith and temper. Yet these
and similar laws availed but little to diminish the evil; as it ever proves
true that abuses, grounded in the wrong character of general relations,
are not to be fundamentally cured by single prohibitory laws, but only
by the improvement of these general relations themselves. ‘The con-
founding of spiritual and worldly things was the source of these abuses.
Hence it happened that the spiritual offices presented so many attrac-
tions to those who would have been the last men to be drawn by the
essential character of the spiritual calling itself; and hence, m the
choice of candidates to spiritual offices, especially the most elevated,
more attention was paid to every one of the others than to the spiritual
qualifications. Men considered what they had to expect, not so much
from the spiritual qualifications of the candidate to care for the good of
souls, as from his political influence to promote. the external. splendor
152 APPOINTMENTS TO OFFICE.
of the church, the temporal well-being of the community. As {he
source of these abuses continued ever to remain the same, these eccle-
siastical laws were often enough violated ; and, in the Eastern church,
the evil was increased by the disorders growing out of disputes on mat-
ters of doctrine. Greater strictness on this point prevailed, in the
main, with individual exceptions, in the church of the West, where the
Roman bishops took ground decidedly against the practice by which
laymen were elevated αὖ once from worldly professions of an alto-
gether different character to the highest stations in the church. ?
This method of appointment to spiritual offices was not only attended
with the mischievous consequence that, by these means, when such
offices came thus to be filled by men altogether unworthy of them,
every sort of corruption was introduced into the church; but also, in
the most favorable cases, when men having the inward call for the spirit-
ual standing were chosen at once, from some entirely foreign circle of
action, to spiritual offices, without any preparatory training, it was nat-
ural that such persons, owing to their want of an independent theologi-
cal education, instead of guiding, by a clear theological consciousness,
the existing ecclesiastical spirit of their time, instead of separating the
true from the false in the existing church tradition, rather suffered
themselves to be unconsciously borne along by the spirit of the church
for the time being; and thus contributed, by their instruction and by
their course of procedure, to confirm and give wider spread to those
errors which had been transmitted from earlier times.
As regards the participation of the laity in the election to church
offices, traces are still to be found in this period of the share which the
communities had once taken in this proceeding. It continued to be
the prevailing form, that the bishop in the first place named to the
community the persons whom he proposed as candidates to fill the
vacant offices, and demanded if any one had aught to object to the
choice ; and, the acquiescence of the church being publicly expressed,
an official instrument (gesta ecclesiastica) was drawn up accordingly.
Through the preponderating influence of the bishops, this, it is true,
might often be no more than a mere formality ; but it was precisely in the
case of appointments to the highest offices of the church that this influence
still often proved to be greatest. Before the provincial bishops could
introduce a regular choice according to the ecclesiastical laws, it some-
times happened that by the voice of the whole community, or of a power-
1 The abuses in the appointment to epis-
copal offices, the methods by which men of
the most alien occupations and modes of life
found their way into them, are set forth by
Gregory of Nazianzus_in the caricature de-
scription of his carmen de episcopis, v. 150.
He names collectors of the tribute, seamen,
people who came from the plough and from
the army. Although it is his object in this
poem to expose the faults of the Eastern
church in the most vivid light, yet his pic-
ture is assuredly not without truth. And
the same writer says, in his remarkable fare-
well discourse before the church assembly
at Constantinople, in the year 381 (orat. 32,
f. 526:) “People at present are on the
look-out, not for priests, but for rhetoricians ;
not for those who understand the cure of
souls, but for those who are skilled in the
management of funds; not for those who
offer with a pure heart, but for powerful
intercessors.”
2 Thus the Roman bishop Siricius, in his
letter ad Gallos episcopos, declares himself
very emphatically against the practice of
elevating to episcopal offices, by the favor
popularis, those qui, secularem adepti potes-
tatem, jus seculi exercuerunt.
TRANSFER OF BISHOPS AND PRESBYTERS. 1538
ful party in it, some individual, standing high in their confidence, was
proclaimed bishop. But as, in the then existing state of the church,
the most pious, and they who had a right conception of the essence of
the spiritual office, and who had at heart the spiritual interests of the
community, did not constitute the majority and the most powerful party ;
but rather, particularly in the more considerable towns, it was often
those very persons with whom impure motives and a worldly interest
mainly predominated, who, as the most reputable of the citizens, pos-
sessed the greatest influence; the elections, accordingly, which were
made after this manner, were not always the best; and cases are to be
met with in which bishops and ecclesiastics, who had at heart the true
interests of the church, were brought into conflict with the boisterous
demands of some popular party, governed by a bad influence.! This
abuse of the influence of the communities in the choice of church off-
cers furnished some good reason for restricting it.
Worldly interest, ambition, and the love of rule, frequently led bish-
ops of the provincial towns, in the Eastern church, to aspire after the
vacant bishoprics of the chief cities. Mischievous quarrels and dis-
putes must often have arisen from this source, and the erroneous notion
obtained, which was justly denounced by the emperor Constantine, that
the large cities had greater claims than others to a bishop who was
solicitous for the cure of souls.?, Soon after the church in the East had
become the dominant church of the state, it was deemed necessary to
find some preventive against these abuses; but whatever measures
were adopted, these, for the reasons already mentioned, like all similar
precautionary legal measures against abuses springing out of the circum-
stances of the times, proved of little avail. The council of Nice, in its
fifteenth canon, forbade the transfer, not only of bishops, but of presby-
ters and deacons, from one church to another, on account of the many
disorders and schisms resulting from this practice, which, contrary to
the laws of the church, prevailed in some districts. But although this
law, which, in reference to the bishops, was sanctioned anew by the
1 Thus in the year 361, the popular party
at Cxsarea in Cappadocia, supported by the
garrison of the place, insisted on having for
their bishop one of the civil magistrates,
Eusebius. who had as yet not been baptized ;
and the provincial bishops, many of whom
perhaps had a better man in mind. allowed
themselves to be forced to ordain him. A
similar schism arose again on the demise of
Eusebius, in choosing his successor. Basilius
possessed without doubt, so far as spiritual
qualifications were concerned, the best
claims to the office; but he was opposed by
a party to whom his spiritual strictness and
his purely spiritual mode of thinking were
not acceptable. As Gregory of Nazianzus
affirins, (orat. 20, f. 342,) the most consider-
able persons of the province were against him,
and these had the worst men of the city on
their side. Gregory says (orat. 19, f.310) on
this occasion, that the election ought to pro-
ceed particularly from the clergy and from
the monks; but not from the most wealthy
and powerful, or the blind impetuosity of the
populace. In the negative part of his re-
mark, he is undoubtedly in the right; but,
with regard to the positive part, it may be
questioned whether, if the whole choice was
made to depend on the classes mentioned,
other impure motives might not equally
enter in. In the letter which Gregory of
Nazianzus_ wrote. in the name of his father,
to the collective inhabitants of Caesarea, he
spoke against those elections which were
decided by combinations and clanships
(κατὰ φρατρείας καὶ ovyyévevac.) As the ill
health of Basil had been made use of as
an objection to his appointment, he wrote
to them that it became them to consider
they were not choosing an athlete, but 8
spiritual teacher. See Gregor. Naz. ep. 18
et 19.
2 See vit. Constant. ITI. 60.
154 VISITS TO THE COURT RESTRAINED.
twentieth canon of the Antiochian council, A.D. 341, was adhered to
in all cases where there was a particular interest that it should be;
yet it was often enough violated in the Eastern church, and treated in
the same way, in fact, as if it had no existence; as, indeed, we find
that Gregory of Nazianzus, about the year 382, could reckon it among
the laws which had long been defunct.1 In the same period, on the
other hand, the Roman bishop Damasus declared it— and, on the
principles held by the. Western church, very justly —a law of the
fathers which had always been in force, that no officer ought to be trans-
ferred from one church to another, because it gave occasion for dis-
putes and divisions.2 True, it was for the most part ambition that led
to the violation of this law of the church; but there were cases, too,
where this measure might conduce to the best interests of the church ;
as, for example, when the peculiar gifts of an eminent individual, whose
place of labor in some smaller town might be easily made good, were
peculiarly needed in some wider field of action.
We remarked above, that the bishops were often under the necessity
of interceding at the court in behalf of oppressed cities or individuals ;
but this description of labor would often furnish a pretext for worldly-
minded men, who preferred residing at court rather than with their
flocks, and who more willingly busied themselves with secular than with
spiritual matters, to absent themselves from their communities. This
restless and meddlesome activity of the bishops beyond the limits of
their calling, proved the source of many disorders in the Eastern
church. ΤῸ counteract the evil, the council of Antioch, in the year
341, (canon 11,) ordained that every bishop, or ecclesiastic generally,
who, without permission and a recommendatory letter on the part of the
provincial bishops, and particularly of his metropolitan, presumed to
visit the emperor, should be excommunicated from the church, and de-
posed from his office. Hosius, bishop of Cordova, complained at the
council of Sardica, because the bishops repaired to ‘the court so fre-
quently and often so unseasonably with demands having no connection
‘with their calling ; leaving their dioceses, not, as it became them, to
plead the cause of the poor and the widows, but for the purpose of
securing places of honor and profit for this or that imdividual, and to
manage for them their worldly concerns ;—a practice which injured
not a little the good name of the bishops, and which hindered them
from speaking out with the same boldness where necessity called for it.
Upon his motion it was resolved that in future, no bishop, unless he had
been specially summoned by the emperor, should visit the court; but,
as it was the case that persons deserving compassion, who had been
condemned for some offence to exile, to transportation, or to some other
punishment, often took refuge in the church, and the latter must not
refuse its aid to such individuals; it was on his motion resolved that
the bishops, in such cases, should transmit the petition of such offenders
by the hands of a deacon, and that the metropolitan should assist him
by letters of recommendation.
1 Πάλαι τεϑνηκότας νόμους.
2 See Damasi epistola IX. ad Acholium Thessalonicensium episcopum
PREROGATIVES OF BISHOPS.
DEACONS. 155
The foundation having been already laid in the preceding period for
distinguishing the bishops above the presbyters, and for gradually ma-
turing the monarchical power of the episcopacy, this relation was carried
out still farther, according to the same principles in the present period.
Men were accustomed, indeed, already, to consider the bishops as the
successors of the apostles, as the necessary intermediate links of con-
nection between the church and the original apostolic foundation,
through whom the influences of the Holy Spirit were to be transmitted
to all the other grades of the clerus, the latter being organs for their
wider diffusion. It followed as a natural consequence from this idea,
that the bishops alone could impart spiritual ordination. Again, it was
in the Western church considered as the distinctive mark of the bish-
ops, that they alone were empowered to administer the rite of confirma-
tion (σφραγίς, signaculum) — (see vol. I., section II., p. 316.) Hence
at certain periods they visited the different parts of their dioceses, for
the purpose of imparting this seal to those who had been baptized by
their presbyters.!. It was held that they alone could consecrate the
holy oil, used in the rite of baptism; and that the presbyters could not,
unless empowered by them, even bestow absolution.?, Yet a Chrysos-
tom and a Jerome still asserted the primitive equal dignity of the pres-
byters and the bishops; very justly believing that they found authority
for this in the New Testament.’
As, from the idea of the bishops considered as the successors of the
apostles, everything else pertaining to the primacy of these over
the presbyters followed as a matter of course; so from the idea of.
the priesthood necessarily proceeded the distinction of the presbyters
above the deacons. The deacons continued, in the main, to be the
same as they were in the preceding period; they attended on the bish-
ops and the presbyters, while performing their official functions, and they
had various liturgical services of their own. It devolved on them to
recite the church prayers, and to give the signal for the commencement.
of the different portions of divine service. In the Western churches,
the gospels, as containing our Lord’s discourses, were distinguished from
the other selections of scripture, in that they were read, not by the
prelectors, but by the deacons, at the public worship.t ‘The office of
deacons having been rightly derived from those seven deacons ap-
pointed by the apostles at Jerusalem, it was held, through a supersti-
tious notion of the unchangeableness of the form, that even in large
churches there should be but seven deacons; and hence, in large cities,
1 See Hieronym. adv. Lucif. T. IV. f. 295, teris non fiat, vel reconciliare quemquam in
ed. Martianay. Qui in castellis aut in remo-
tioribus locis per presbyteros et Diaconos
baptizati ante dormierunt, quam ab episcopis
anviserentur.
2 Ut, sine chrismate et episcopi jussione,
neque Presbyter neque Diaconus jus habeant
baptizandi. Comp. Innocentii epistola ad
Decentium, § 6, codex canonum ecclesiz
African, canon. VI. et VII. Chrismatis
confectio et puellarum consecratio a presby-
publica missa presbytero non licere.
3 See Chrysostom. Hom. XI. on Timoth.
at the beginning. Jerome in his commen-
tary on the Epistle of Titus, and ep. 101 ad
Evangelum. Quid facit, excepta ordinatione,.
episcopus, quod Presbyter non faciat: where
perhaps he only had in mind the usage of
the East. ΝΣ
4 See Hieronym. ep. 93 ad Sabinian.
vol. IV. f. 758. Concil. 11. Vasense (at
Vaison) 529, canon II.
1δ0 DEACONS. DEACONESSES.
the great number of presbyters singularly contrasted with the small
number of deacons.!' Later, it came about in large cities that the
original number was greatly exceeded, so that in the sixth century, in
the time of the emperor Justinian, the principal church in Constanti-
nople could count a hundred deacons ;* and it was now attempted to
obviate the objection that this was a deviation from the apostolic usage,
by maintaining that the deacons of this period ought not to be com- -
pared with those of the apostolic institution. The’ latter were only a
temporary order, designed for the dispensation of alms to the poor ; —
and, in support of this view, an argument, on an insufficient basis, was
drawn from the changes which, since those times, had taken place in
the business of the deacons, and in the management of the church
funds.3
Although the deacons, according to the original institution, were to
occupy a position far below that of the presbyters, yet it so happened
in many districts that they sought to exalt themselves above the latter,
and it became necessary for the synods to make laws by which they
should be once more confined within the appropriate bounds of their
order.® The reason of this, in the opinion of Jerome,® was not that the
deacons, being fewer in number, were, like other rare things, more
highly esteemed, but rather because, owing to their closer connection
with the bishops, they enjoyed special regard as the confidential
agents of the latter. Hence, this was particularly the case with the
archdeacons, who stood at the head of the order, just as the arch-pres-
byters stood at the head of the presbyters; for, as the former were
often employed by the. bishops as their deputies and plenipotentiaries,
they thus obtained a predominant influence, which, doubtless, under
weak bishops, they sometimes abused.?
The institution of deaconesses had, as we remarked in speaking of
the origin of this office in the. preceding period, its special reason in:
the circumstances of those times. When these circumstances changed,
the office would also lose its significance. Originally the deaconesses
were looked upon as the female part of the Clerus; and ordination was
given them for the purpose of consecrating them to their office, in the
same sense as it was given to the other clergy. The Nicene council
1See Euseb. VI. 43. Hieronymus, ep.
146 or 101 ad Evangelum: Diaconos pauci-
tas honorabiles facit. The order of the
council of Neocesarea, c. 15, that even in
large towns not more than seven deacons
should be appointed.
+ 2 See Justinian. Novell. 1. 1, N. TIL
8 See Chrysostom, H. 14, act. ap. and
Concil. Trullan. II. can. 16.
4 Jerome, for instance, complains of this,
particularly in reference to the Roman
church, ep. 145 ad Evangelum.
5 Concil. Nic. c. 18, and Concil. Laodicen.
c. 25.
3s) Dare
7 Thus Isidorus of Pelusium objects to a
certain Lucius of Pelusium, an archdeacon,
that, by his wicked arts, he kept the bishop,
who blindly followed him, (τὸν πειϑομενόν
σοι ἀκρίταϊ ἐπίσκοπον,) in the dark; that he
made trafiic of ordination. He calls here
the deacons, ὀφθαλμοὺς éxicxorov; the arch-
deacon should therefore ὅλος ὀφϑαλμὸς ὑπάρ-
xew. Isidor. Pelusiot. 1. IV. ep. 188.
8 Wesee this from Tertullian. ad uxorem,
1.1. ο. VII. viduam allegi in ordinem. Also
the apostolic constitutions still know of no
difference between the ordination of deacon-
esses and other clerical ordinations. The
ordinary prayer of the bishop should, ac-
cording to the same authority, run thus:
“ternal God, Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, Creator of man and of woman; thou
who didst fill with thy Spirit Miriam, De-
borah, Hannah, and Huldah; thou who didst
vouchsafe to a woman the birth of thy only
DEACONESSES. 157
seems still to have recognized this also to be right.1 But now, when
exaggerated notions about the magical effects of ordination and the
dignity of the clerical order became continually more predominant, men
began to conceive something offensive in the practice of ordaining dea-
conesses, and associating them with the clerws— which practice was,
perhaps, already forbidden by the council of Laodicea in their eleventh
canon.2 The Western church, in particular, declared very strongly
against this custom. Western synods of the fifth and sixth centuries
forbade generally the appointment of deaconesses. Where ordained
deaconesses were still to be found, it was ordered that they should in
future receive the blessing of the bishop along with the laity ;—
another proof that before this they were reckoned as belonging to the
clergy. Those prohibitions came, however, only from French synods ;
and it cannot be inferred from them that the appomtment of deaconesses
begotten Son; thou who didst, in the taber-
nacle and in the temple, place female keepers
of thy holy gates;—look down now also
upon this thy handmaid, and bestow on her
the Holy Ghost, that she may worthily per-
form the work committed to her, to thy
honor, and to the glory of Christ.”
1 Connected with this matter is the ob-
scure passage in the 19th canon, where,
moreover, the reading is disputed. The
subject of discourse in this canon relates to
the Samosatenean clergy, who, if they joined
the Catholic church, and were found quali-
fied and able, were to be permitted to retain
their places; and it is then added, according
to the common reading, “ The same rule
shall hold good with regard to the deacon-
esses;” and it is accordingly presupposed
that the latter belonged to the spiritual
order. Shortly afterwards, from the proper
deaconesses are distinguished the (abusive)
so-called widows, who, as they had not re-
ceived the χειροϑεσία, belonged generally to
the laity. According to this, the proper
deaconesses received clerical ordination.
Following the other reading, it would in the
first place run as follows: “ἡ The same rule
shall hold good with respect to the deacons.”
And in this case, what comes after would
relate to the proper deaconesses ; and it
would follow from this, that they had re-
ceived no ordination whatever, and were
reckoned with the laity. The whole con-
nection, however, seems chiefly to favor the
first reading; for it is difficult to see any
reason why, after the whole body of the
clergy had been mentioned in general, any-
thing should now be said with regard to the
deacons in particular.
2 This canon is likewise of doubtful inter-
pretation: Μὴ δεῖν τὰς λεγομένας πρεσβύτι-
dag ἦτοι προκαϑημένας ἐν ἐκκλεσίᾳ καϑιστᾶσ-
Ya. It may be, that the canon had no
reference whatever to deaconesses generally,
but only to the oldest of them, who, accord-
ing to Epiphanius, (hzres. 79.) were styled
distinctively, πρεσβύτιδες. The phrase, ἐν
VOL. II. 14
éxkAnowg, might then be connected either
with the preceding or with the following
word, and the passage explained thus: “ As
the oldest of the deaconesses have arrogated
to themselves a special authority over the
female portion of the church, the synod
forbids the appointment of such.” But
since it was required generally, according
to the ancient rule, that the deaconesses
should be sixty years old, and since they
were the presiding officers over the female
part of the community, nothing forbids
us to suppose that the name stands for
the deaconesses generally. Now, if we sup-—
pose, what to be sure is not impossible,
that the synod forbade the appointment of
deaconesses generally, then this would con-
flict with the usage of the Greek church
during this whole period. Or we might
lay a particular emphasis on the phrase ἐν
ἐκκλησίᾳ, and, connecting it with the word
that follows, understand the sense to be, -
that ecclesiastical consecration or ordination
only was forbidden to the deaconesses. The
article in the passage would favor this last
explanation.
8 Hilarius (called the Ambrosiast) says
of the Montanists: Etiam ipsas diaconas
ordinari debere vana preesumptione defen-
dunt. But the Montanists adhered in this
case simply to the ancient usage of the
church ; for, as to the rest, they too followed
the general rule which excluded women
from speaking publicly before the church.
4 The first council of Orange, (Arausica-
num, in the year 441,) c. 26. Diaconz
omnimodis non ordinandz: si que jam
sunt, benedictioni, que populo impenditur,
capita submittant. So, too, the council of
Epaon, in the year 517, ο. 27; the second
council of Orleans, in the year 583, c. 18.
Yet this council attributed to such an or-
dination a certain validity ; since, in its 17th
canon, it directed that the ordained deacon-
esses who had remarried, should be ex-
cluded from the fellowship of the church
158 STEWARDS.
in the Western church ceased at once, and in all the districts alike.
In the East, the deaconesses maintained a certain kind of authority for
a longer period. We find among them widows possessed of property,
who devoted their substance to pious works and institutions ; like Olym-
pias, known on account of her connection with Chrysostom. They
there had it in charge also, by private instruction, to prepare the women
in the country for baptism, and to be present at their baptism.! It was’
considered the privilege of the wives of bishops, who, by common under-
standing, separated from their husbands after the latter had bound
themselves to a life of celibacy, that, if found worthy, they might be
consecrated as deaconesses ;2 and thus the female church-office con-
tinued to be preserved in the East down into the twelfth century.
Without any change in the grades of the clerical order hitherto ex-
isting to the church-offices already established, many new ones, of
greater or less importance, were added, which had been rendered neces-
sary in part by the great increase of ecclesiastical business in large
towns. As the chief wealth of the churches consisted in landed estates,
and the care of improving and farming these estates required much
labor and attention, the management of these matters was specially
entrusted to one of the clergy, under the name of “ steward,’
(οἰκονόμος, )}8 and this officer obtained by degrees the supervision gene-
rally over the income and expenditures of the church. This method
of procedure was not, however, everywhere followed alike ; and, for
this reason, the council of Chalcedon directed, in its 25th canon, that
all bishops should appoint such ““ stewards,”’ who, entrusted under their
authority with the management of the church revenues, could be wit-
nesses of the manner in which they were administered. Thus the mal-
appropriation of the property of the churches by the bishops, as well
as the suspicion of any such thing, was to be provided against. But,
inasmuch as the management of property and the protection of the
poor who were supported by the church might sometimes lead to law-
suits ; and inasmuch as the conducting of such suits did not seem com-
patible with the standing of the clergy, and they were wanting, more-
over, in the requisite legal knowledge; the expedient was finally
‘adopted that the church, like other corporations, should have, for the
management of its affairs, a person skilled in the law, who should
always stand prepared to defend its rights. This individual was called
the ἔκδικος, defensor.*
2 Concil. Trull. II. 691, canon 48.
1 See Pelagius on Romans 16:1. This
8 Vid. Basil. Cesar. ep. 285 and 237.
custom must have existed also in other
places besides the East ; for in a collection
of Western, perhaps North-African church
ordinances, which are wrongly quoted as
coming from a fourth council of Carthage, a
canon (6. 12) occurs: Viduse vel sanctimo-
niales, qu ad ministerium baptizandarum
mulierum eliguntur, tam instruct sint ad
officium, ut possint et sano sermone docere
imperitas et rusticas mulieres, tempore, quo
baptizandz sunt, qualiter baptizatori in-
terrogate respondeant et qualiter accepto
baptismate vivant.
4 The council of Carthage, of the year
401, resolved to petition the emperor, that
persons might be assigned to the churches,
with the approbation of: the bishops, who
should be prepared to defend the poor
against’ the oppressions of the rich. See
canon 10, in the Cod. canon. eccles. Afr.
ec. 75; the council of Carthage, in the year
407, c. 8, Cod. Afr. c. 97, ut dent faculta-
tem defensores: constituendi scholasticos
(advocates.) Which was granted: see Cod.
Theodos. 1. 16, Tit. II. 1. 38, comp. Possid.
RURAL BISHOPS. 159
Again, the drawing-up of the protocols, or reports of the public acts of
the church, (the gesta ecclesiastica,) which were prepared with great ex-
actness, rendered necessary the appointment of trustworthy secretaries,
familiar with short-hand writing, out of the body of the clergy, (the notarii,
exceptores.) The choice in this case, as in that of the prelectors, was
made, by many of the churches, out of the class of young men who
were to be trained up for the service of the church.1
As we observed in the preceding period, the spirit of Christian char-
ity and tenderness was shown, from the first, in the care of providing
for the sick, and in the attention bestowed on the burial of the dead.
Yet perhaps no particular church-offices were, till now, instituted with
reference to these objects: it had been a voluntary work of Christian
love. But, as in this period general hospitals had been established
under the direction of the churches, it became necessary that particu-
lar individuals should be appointed in the churches to take care of the
sick. ‘They were called Parabolani.? At Alexandria they formed, in
the fifth century, a distinct order or guild, which might legally consist
of siz hundred members. But it must be admitted, the same abuse
seems to have crept in here which infected so many of the institutions
of the churches in the principal cities. Wealthy citizens, who of course
kept aloof from actual attendance on the sick, obtained admittance into
this guild, merely for the sake of enjoying the exemptions to which it
was entitled ; and the ambitious prelates of Alexandria sought, by the
multitude of these Parabolani, to form around them a body of men de-
voted to their interests, whom they could employ for purposes which
were not always the purest. Hence it became necessary to provide
by civil statutes against the abuses to which this institution was liable.*
The burial of the dead was also committed to fhe care of a particu-
lar class of men, retained in the service of the church, (the κοπιάται, co-
piatze, fossores.°)
In respect to the constitution of the episcopal dioceses, the country
bishops, (χωρεπίσκοποι, ) (see vol. I.,) who probably had their origin in
very early times, first appear in conflict with the city bishops in the
fourth century. The former name was borne by such as presided over
the church of ἃ principal village, and to whom a certain number of vil-
lage churches, which had their own presbyters or pastors, were sub-
jected.© As the episcopal system connected with the city churches
vit. Augustin. c. 12. Different from these
defensores were the stewards and agents of
the bishops, occurring under the same name
in the Roman church. These latter the
bishops chose from their clergy ; and they
are frequently mentioned in the letters of
Gregory the Great.
1 Epiphanius, afterwards bishop of Tici-
num, (Pavia,) in the fifth century, after
having been prelector when eight years of
age, was admitted, as soon as he had made
some proficiency in the art of short-hand
writing, among the exceptores of the church.
See his life by Eunodius.
2 In respect to burial, comp. Cyprian’s
behavior during the pestilence, vol. I. sect. I.
ὃ TlapaBoAava, from the Greek παραβαλ-
Rota τὴν Conv, ψύχην, since these people,
in cases of contagious disease, exposed
their lives to danger.
* Cod. Theodos. |. 16. Tit. II. 1. 42 et 43.
5 Vid. Hieronymi ep. 17 ad Innocent.
Clerici, quibus id officii erat, eruentum lin-
teo cadaver obvolvunt, (of one who had
been executed,) ete. Cod. Theodos. 1. 13.
Tit. I. 1.1, and 1.16. Tit. II. 1. 15.
8 Such a circle of village churches under
a chor-bishop, was called a συμμορία. ‘Ov
προστησαμένοι τῆς συμμορίας. Basil. ep.
290, and ep. 142. The several places sub
160 RURAL BISHOPS.
had at so early a period become already matured, this system would now,
as a matter of course, be extended also to the relation of the churches
subordinated to the rural or chor-bishops ; and these latter themselves
provoked the restriction of their power by the abuse which they made
of 10. By synods of the fourth century it was settled that the chor-
bishops should only have power to nominate and ordain, without consult-
ing the city bishop, ecclesiastics of the lower grade.? ©
The council of Sardica, and the council of Laodicea, at length for-
bade wholly the appointment of chor-bishops. The former, indeed, pro-
hibited the appomtment of bishops in those smaller towns where one
presbyter would suffice as presiding officer over the church. The rea-
son given for this ordinance was one which grew out of a perverted
hierarchical pride ; namely, “ that the name and the authority of the
bishop should not be degraded.” ? The council of Laodicea ordained
moreover, thatin place of the country bishops, visitors (περιοδεύται
should be appointed ; that is, probably, that the bishops should nomi-
nate certain presbyters of their own clergy to make visitations of the
country churches in their name ; and thus, in respect to general over-
sight and other business, to supply the place of the chor-bishops.4 Yet
chor-bishops are still to be met with, at later periods, in the churches
of Syria, and in the West. :
But the practice became continually more general of substituting, in
the place of the chor-bishops, presbyters placed by the city bishops over
the country churches, which presbyters stood in a relation of more im-
mediate dependence on the latter.°
ordinate to the episcopal main village were
denominated ἀγροὶ ὑποκείμενοι or ὑποτε-
λοῦντες τῷ... Basil. ep. 138, or canonica
L canon 10.
1 Basil of Caesarea learned that his chor-
bishops had received into the service of the
church many unworthy men, who were
only seeking to escape the military service
by procuring themselves to be ordained as
ecclesiastics. For this reason he required
them to send him an accurate list of all the
ecclesiastics in their dioceses, and directed
them to ordain no one for the future with-
out informing and consulting him. He as-
serted, however, that this had been the an-
cient usage. Basil. ep. 54.
2 See the 13th Canon of the council of
Ancyra. Concil. Antiochen. canon. 9. The
council of Laodicea directed, indeed, in its
57th canon, that they should have power
to do nothing without consulting the city
bishop.
8 Concil. Laodicen. ο. 57: Concil. Sardic.
c. 6.
4 The word περιοδεύειν is employed to de-
note those tours of visitation which the
bishops, accompanied by a number of cler-
gy and laity, made through the several parts
of their dioceses. Athanas. Apolog. ὁ. Ari-
anos, ὁ 74, according to ed. Patay. T. I. P.
L f. 151, a. We might accordingly sup-
pose that those presbyters whom the bish-
ops empowered, in their stead, to make
such tours of visitation in -particular por-
tions of their dioceses. would be designated
with the name περιοδεύται. Accordingly,
such occur in the times of the Dioclesian
persecution, who, during the absence of the
captured Egyptian bishops, were invested
with full powers to make the visitations in
their dioceses. The bishops say: Multi
euntes et redeuntes ad nos, qui poterant visi-
tare. See the letter of the Egyptian bish-
ops to Miletius, in Maffei Osservazioni lette-
rarie, Τ᾿, III. p. 15. At the same time, the
notion of a person travelling about as a
visitor, is by no means necessarily implied
in the term περιοδεύτης. It might also sig-
nify simply an inspector, who, the name
only being changed, was the same as the
chor-bishop before him; for περιοδεύειν,
περιοδεύτης, are terms which sometimes oc-
cur in the sense, to attend upon, to heal,
physician. See the Homily, erroneously as-
cribed to Athanasius, in coecum, § 9 and
δ 12. The former signification is, however,
the more probable one. The predicate
περιοδεύτης is given to a presbyter: Σέργιος
πρεσβύτερος καὶ περιοδεύτης, in the acts of
the council under the Patriarch Mennas, at
Constantinople, in the year 536, actio I,
The term παροικία denoted originally
each church : ᾿Εκκλῃσία ἡ παροίκοῦσα, Euseb.
III. 28, subsequently the greater divisions
CITY CHURCHES. 161
In respect to the city churches, it was absolutely necessary, it is true,
in this period, that, besides the old episcopal and principal church, other
churches should be founded; in which, since all could not be conveni-
ently accommodated with room in the principal church, the portions of
the community dwelling at a distance might hold their assemblies on
Sundays and feast-days. Still it was by no means as yet a general regu-
lation that in the cities, as in the country, separate filial communities
arose under the supervision of the episcopal head-church. Epiphanius
cites it as a peculiarity of the Alexandrian church, that there, on ac-
count of the wants of the inhabitants, different churches under particu-
lar presbyters, as parish clergymen, were founded, to which the resi-
dents in adjacent streets belonged.t At Constantinople, each church
had also its own particular clergy. Thé founders of churches deter-
mined, at the same time, the number of clergy for them, and the pro-
portional amount of revenue. The three filial churches of the mother
church at Constantinople formed here the only exception: these had no
separate body of clergy; but a certain number, taken interchangeably,
according to a certain routine, from the clerus of the principal church,
were sent on Sundays and feast-days to conduct the public worship in
these churches. We are not warranted, however, from this fact, to de-
termine anything as to the regulations of the other churches in this
great capital.2, At Rome the relation of all the other churches to the
episcopal head-church seems to have been very nearly like the relation
of those three filial churches to the head church at Constantinople ;
but perhaps with this difference, that though all the clergy were incor-
porated with the clerus of the episcopal head church, yet they did not
conduct the public worship in the other churches by turns; but its own
particular presbyter was constantly assigned to each one of these
churches (tituli.)? The Roman presbyters who conducted the public
worship in the filial churches had not, however, the right of consecrat-
ing the holy supper; but bread which had been consecrated by the
of the church, which in the political phraseo-
logy were denominated διοικῆσεις, Basil. ep.
66; so also a smaller ecclesiastical whole,
the city church, with its filial country com-
munities; and finally the country communi-
ties in particular, Basil. ep. 206 and 240.
Hence the Latin Parcecia, Parochia, Pres-
byter regens parochiam, Sulpic. Sever. dial.
1.1. ς. 8. And hence Parochus.
1 Heres. 29, Arian. Ὅσαι ἐκκλησίαι τῆς
καϑολίκης ἐκκλησίας ἐν ᾿Αλεξανδρείᾳ ὑπὸ Eva
ἀρχιεπίσκοπον οὗσαι, καὶ κατ᾽ ἰδίαν ταύταις
ἐπιτετάγμενοι εἴσι πρεσβύτεροι διὰ τὰς ἐκκλη-
σιαστίκας χρείας τῶν οἰκητέρων, πλησίων
ἑκάστης αὐτῶν καὶ ἀμφόδων ἤτοι λάβρων ἐπι-
χωρίως καλουμένων.
2 Justinian. I. T. 1Π|. Novell. IIT. Οὐκ
ἰδιαζόνται κληρίκους, οὔδε εἷς τουτῶν ἔχει τῶν
τρίων οἴκων, κοΐνοι δὲ εἴσι τῆς τὲ ἁγιοτάτης
μεγάλης ἐκκλησίας καὶ αὐτῶν, καὶ τούτους
ἁπώντες περινοστούντες κατὰ τῖνα περιόδον
καὶ κύκλον, τὰς λειτουργίας ἐν αὐτοῖς ποι-
οὔνται.
VOL. II. 14*
8 That the presbyters of the filial churches
at Rome did not quit their connection with
the clerus of the principal church, seems to
follow from the words of the Roman bishop
Innocent in his letter to the bishop De-
centius, of the year 416, § 8: Quarum (ec-
clesiarum) presbyteri, quia die ipso, propter
plebem sibi creditam, nobiscum convenire
non possunt, (where seems to be understood
the words, — sicuti cxteris diebus nobis —
cum conveniunt,) as also in the words, —
ut se a nostra communione, maxime illo
die, non judicent separatos. But that the
presbyters were usually appointed, in the
case of these filial churches, to minister for
some considerable length of time, seems
evident from the designation of a church of
this sort at Rome: "Eva Θίτων ὁ πρεσβύ-
τερος συνῆγεν (the church where he was ac-
customed to conduct the worship.) Athanas
apolog. c. Arian. § 20.
162 METROPOLITAN CONSTITUTION.
bishop was sent to them from the principal church: this they simply
distributed,! — the holy symbol serving at the same time to denote the
unbroken ecclesiastical bond between them and the bishop of the prin-
cipal church.
The metropolitan constitution which we saw growing up in the pre-
ceding period, became in this more generally diffused and more per-
fectly matured and consolidated. On the one hand, to the metro-
politans was conceded the superintendence over all ecclesiastical ἢ
affairs of the province to which their metropolis belonged ; it was de-
cided that they should convoke the assemblies of provincial bishops,
and preside over their deliberations ; but, on the other hand, their rela-
tion to the entire collegiwm of the provincial bishops, and to the indi-
viduals composing it, were also more strictly defined, so as to prevent
any arbitrary extension of their power, and to establish on a se-
cure footing the independence of all the other bishops in the exercise
of their functions. For this reason, the provincial synods, which were
bound to assemble twice in each year, as the highest ecclesiastical
tribunal for the whole province, were to assist the metropolitans in de-
termining all questions relating to the general affairs of the church;
and without their participation, the former were to be held incompetent
to undertake any business relating to these matters of general concern.
Each bishop was to be independent in the administration of his own par-
ticular diocese, although he could be arraigned before the tribunal of
the provincial synods for ecclesiastical or moral delinquencies. No
choice of a bishop could possess validity without the concurrence of the
metropolitan: he was to conduct the ordination; yet not alone, but
with the assistance of at least two other bishops; and all the bishops of
the province were to be present at the ordination of the metropolitan.
We noticed already, in the preceding period, that the churches in
some of the larger capital towns of entire great divisions of the Roman
empire, from which towns also Christianity had extended itself in wider
circles, had attained to a certain preéminence and peculiar dignity in
the estimation of Christians. This, by force of custom, passed over also
into the present period; yet without any distinct expression at first of
the views of the church on that point. The council of Nice, in its
sixth canon, which, by its vague, indeterminate language, gave occasion
for many disputes, was the first to attempt to settle some definite rule
on this point, particularly with reference to the Alexandrian church ;
having been led to do this, perhaps, by occasion of the Meletian
controversies in Egypt. It is here said: ‘‘ Let the ancient custom
which has prevailed in Egypt, Libya, and Pentapolis, that the bishop
of Alexandria should have authority over all these places, be still main-
tained ; since this is the custom also with the Roman bishop. In like
manner, at Antioch, and in the other provinces, the churches shall
retain their ancient prerogatives.” 2 Afterwards, this canon goes on
1 In the above-cited passages from the avdpeia ἐπίσκοπον πάντων τουτῶν ἔχειν τὴν
letter of Innocence: Fermentum a nobis ἐξουσίαν, ἐπείδη καὶ τῷ ἐν TH Ῥώμῃ ἐπισκόπῳ
confectum per acolythos accipiunt. τοῦτο συνῆϑες ἔστιν: ὁμοιῶς δὲ καὶ κατὰ THY
2 Τὰ ἀρχαία ἐϑῆ κρατείτω τὰ ἐν ᾿Αἰγύπτῳ ᾿’Αντιοχείαν καὶ év ταῖς ἄλλαις ἐπαρχίαις, τὰ
καὶ Λιβύῃ καὶ Πενταπόλει͵ ὥστε τὸν ἐν ᾿Αλεξ- πρεσβεία σωζέσϑαι ταῖς ἐκκλησίαις
EXARCHS. PATRIARCHS. 163
to speak of the rights of the metropolitans generally ; from which, how-
ever, we are not to infer that the bishops first named were placed in
the same class with all the other metropolitans: on the contrary, they
are cited as metropolitans of higher rank, though nothing was definitely
said respecting their precise relation to the other metropolitans. As
in the provinces here named, which were to be subordinate to the Alex-
andrian church, there were also particular metropolitans, it is plainly
evident that some higher rank must have been intended, in this case,
than that which was attributed to the ordinary metropolitan. The whole
relation having been in the first place of political origin, it was desig-
nated at first by a name borrowed from the political administration of
the empire. As the magistrates that presided over the political admin-
istration in these main divisions of the Roman empire were denominated
Exarchs, (ἐξάρχοι,) this appellation was transferred also to those who
presided over the ecclesiastical government.1. Subsequently, choice
was made of the more écclesiastical name of Patriarchs.2 Originally,
it was the churches of the three great capital cities of the Roman em-
pire, Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch, which held this prominent
rank. In these churches, which were regarded, moreover, as ecclesize
apostolicze, ecclesiastical and political considerations were conjoined.
But to these there was now added another church, which had in its
favor neither antiquity of political nor of ecclesiastical dignity ; while
many churches which were subordinated to it, as for instance the
church of Ephesus, had precedence over it, as by ecclesiastical charac-
ter, so by its political relation in the ancient constitution of the Roman
empire. When the city of Byzantium, which in earlier times was itself
‘subordinate to the metropolis at Heraclea in Thrace, became, under
the name of Constantinople, the seat of government for the whole of
the Roman empire in the East, and the second capital of the entire
Roman world, it was necessary that its church also should be distin-
guished as the church of the second imperial residence, and should re-
ceive the rank of a patriarchate. Accordingly the second ecumenical
council of Constantinople directed already in 381, in its second canon,
that the bishop of Constantinople should take rank next after the Ro-
1 See Concil. Chale. canon 8: Ὁ ἐξάρχος
τῆς διοικησέως, and canon 16. Doubtless
many eminent bishops were then still
that had acquired this distinction by virtue
of their personal character; and these were
entrusted with a supervisory power over the
reckoned among the exarchs, who subse-
quently were not recognized as patriarchs.
2 This name occurs first at the council of
Constantinople, in the year 381, in an appli-
cation somewhat different. from that which
it afterwards received. When, in conse-
τ quence of the preceding controversies con-
cerning doctrines, many schisms arose in
the Eastern church, and it became necessary
to correct various disorders, it was deter-
mined, for the sake of restoring unanimity
and order in the church, to appoint — besides
the bishops of Alexandria, Antioch, and
Constantinople, who were already, through
their churches, possessed of a peculiar pre-
cedence of rank —certain individual bishops
several dioceses and provinces of the Roman
empire, — as Asia Minor, Pontus, and Cap-
padocia, — under the name of Patriarchs.
In particular, it was decided that none but
such as stood on terms of church fellowship
with these individuals should share in the
common rights of the Catholic church (see
Cod. Theodos. 1. 16. Tit. II. 1. 3. Socrat.
hist. V. 8.) To this arrangement, and the
quarrel among the bishops which sprung
out of it, Gregory of Nazianzus. alludes in
his carmen de episcopis, v. 798, where he
says to the bishops: Opovove μὲν ἐχοίτε Kal
τυραννίδας | ὑμεῖς, ἔπει καὶ πρώτα ταῦϑ' ὑμῖν
δόκει" | χαιροίτε, ὑβριζοίτε, -πατριαρχίας |
κληροῦσϑε:" κόσμος ὑμῖν εἰκέτω μέγας
164 PATRIARCHS.
man bishop, since Constantinople was New Rome ;1 and the council
of Chalcedon, (A.D. 451,) in its last canon but one, confirmed this
decree with the following noticeable comparison between the church of
the ancient and that of the new Rome: “ Z'he fathers rightly conceded
that rank to the episcopate of ancient Rome, because Rome was the
mistress city ;’’ and following out the same principle, the fathers of
this council of Constantinople attributed equal rank to the episcopate
of the new Rome, because they rightly judged that the city which was
the seat of the imperial government and of the senate, enjoyed equal
dignity with ancient Rome, had the same precedence in ecclesiastical
affairs, and must take the second place after the latter; so that the
bishop of Constantinople ought to ordain the metropolitans of the dio-
ceses of Pontus, Asia Minor, and Thrace, and also the collective bishops
of the barbarian tribes within those dioceses. Finally, after many dis-
putes with the church of Antioch, there was added still the fifth patri-
archate, of a church distinguished simply in a spiritual respect, enjoy-
ing originally not even the rank of a metropolis, the patriarchate of
Jerusalem.”
This division of the whole Roman church jurisdiction into four or five
patriarchates, intimately connected as it was, in part, with the political
constitution of the Roman empire, would naturally have respect, in the
first place, to those churches only which lay within the bounds of the
Roman empire ; although it naturally exerted some indirect influence
also on those churches without the empire, which had been planted by
the churches within it. But it did not apply in the same sense, and in
the same way, even to all those parts which belonged to the empire.
A peculiar spirit of freedom distinguished, from the earliest times, the
church of North Africa. The church at Carthage had, it is true, en-
joyed by custom particular consideration as the church of the principal
city of North Africa; her bishop presided in all the general assemblies
of the North-African church ;* yet he by no means stood in the same
relation to the bishops of the other five North-African churches, as the
patriarchs did to the bishops of their greater church dioceses ; and even
the bishop of Rome did not properly possess the authority of a patri-
arch in the North-African church. This church, in a council at Hip-
poregius, (now Bona in the district of Algiers,) A.D. 393, protested
expressly against such a title as the patriarchs bore in other countries,
and would recognize the validity of no other title than that of bishop of
the first church.*
Since the patriarchal constitution formed a still more universal bond
of unity for the church than that of the metropolitan bishops, and
since the patriarchs stood related to the metropolitans in the saine man
ner as the latter to the bishops, it is possible that, by this means, vreater
unity and order were introduced into the management of all the eccle-
1 Ἔχειν τὰ πρεσβεία τῆς τίμης μετὰ τὸν 4 Canon 39, in Cod. Canon. eccles. Afr.
τῆς Ῥώμης ἐπίσκοπον, διὰ τὸ εἴναι αὐτὴν νέαν Ut prime sedis episcopus non appelletur
Ῥώμην. princeps sacerdotum, aut summus sacerdos,
2 Concil. Chale. act. VII. (ἐξάρχος τῶν ἱέρων,} aut aliquid hujusmodi,
Concilia plenaria Africa. sed tantum prime sedis episcopus.
AUTHORITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH. 165
siastical affairs of the Roman church ; but it may be questioned, if the
outward unity which was brought about by this system of constraint,
proved salutary in its influence on the church development. The bond
of outward constraint could never rightly adjust itself to the spirit of
Christianity, which requires a free outward development of the indi-
viduality of character from within. he history of the church in the
fifth century, in particular, teaches how oppressive the despotism of the
patriarchs at Alexandria and at Antioch sometimes became. And if,
on the one hand, four principal portions of the Roman church were in
this manner brought into closer unity ; yet, on the other, oppositions so
much the more violent were thereby engendered between the patriar-
chal churches of the East, — the sources of numberless schisms and
disorders. The history of the church in these centuries shows how
much of impure, worldly interest became diffused in the church,
through the eager thirst and strife of the bishops for precedence of
rank ; what mischievous disputes sprang out of the mutual jealousies of
the patriarchs, — particularly the jealousies of the patriarchs of Alex-
andria towards the patriarchs of Pecsbetuakiant ale — and how this state
of things contributed to check the oppositions of the different tenden-
cies of the dogmatic spirit in their free evolution, and to intermingle
with them worldly and party passions ; so that, by the impure motives
which made use of the doctrinal interest as a pretext, this interest it-
self was smothered. Very justly could Gregory of Nanzianzus say,
as he did at Constantinople in 380, when lamenting over the evils of
the church, which he had learned from his own experience: “ Would
to Heaven there were no primacy, no eminence of place, and no tyran-
nical precedence of rank; that we might be known by eminence of
virtue alone! But, as the case now stands, the distinction of a seat at
the right hand or the left, or in the middle ; at a higher or a lower
place ; of going before or aside of each other, has given rise to many
disorders among us to no salutary purpose whatever, and plunged mul-
titudes in ruin.” 1
In proceeding to speak, then, of the Roman bishop in particular,
regard must be had to two different points of view: the Roman bishop,
considered as one of those four patriarchs, in his relation to the more ex-
tended church jurisdiction which was subordinate to the Roman church
in especial ; and the Roman bishop in his relation to the entire church,
or particularly to that of the West. As it respects the first ; — it is
to this, the above-cited sixth canon of the Nicene council has reference ;
and probably Rufinus 2 gives, in this case, the most correct explanation
of the matter, when he expounds this canon as implying that the dio-
cese of the Roman bishop embraced the whole circle or district which
belonged to the administration of the vicarius urbis Rome, (the provin-
cias suburbicarias, i.e., the major part of middle Italy ; all lower Italy,
Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica.3) Add to this, that the Roman church
1 Orat. 28, f. 484. Sardica to the Roman bishop Julius, § 5. Ut
2 Rufin. 1. 5, ut suburbicariarum ecclesi- per tua seripta qui in Sicilia, qui in Sardinia,
arum sollicitudinem gerat. et in /talia, sunt fratres nostri, quz acta sunt
3 See Notitia Dignitatum imperii Romani, cognoscant.
sectio 45, and the letter of the council of
106 AUTHORITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH.
had become possessed, by donations and legacies, of many landed
estates lying without these limits, which gave her opportunity of knit-
ting firmly to her interests many influential connections. Again, as the
whole constitution of the church in the Roman empire hung closely
connected with the political constitution, the Roman church necessarily
possessed this advantage over all the patriarchal churches, that it was
the church of the ancient capital of the Roman empire. This politico-
ecclesiastical point of view was always made of prominent importance
by the Orientals, as is shown in the above-cited decrees of the Con-
stantinopolitan and of the Chalcedonian councils. Theodoretus, bishop
of Cyprus, says, in a letter in which he solicited the aid of the Roman
bishop, Leo the Great,! that everything conspired to give the church
of Rome the primacy: those advantages which, in other cases, were
found distributed among different churches, and whatever distinguishes
a city, either in a political or in a spiritual respect, were here con-
joined ; —and he then proceeds to notice first the political superiority.
Rome was the largest, the most splendid, the most populous city: from
her proceeded the existing magisterial power ; from her the whole em-
pire took its name. Finally, the great distinction of the Roman church,
in respect to religion, was, that she had been honored by the martyrdom
of the apostles Peter and Paul, and possessed their tombs, which were
objects of reverence also to the East.2 All this taken together might
create even among the Orientals a peculiar veneration for the Roman
church.
With the people of the West, all this was made to rest on such dog-
matic grounds as converted it into something entirely different. We
observed already, in the preceding period, how, from confounding the
ideas of the visible and the invisible church, from the notion of a neces-
sary outward unity of the church, the idea had there sprung up of an
uninterrupted outward representation of this unity, necessarily existing
at all times; and how this idea had been transferred to the cathedra
- Petri in the Roman church. This idea, handed down, in its yet vague
and unsettled shape, to the present period, in connection with its root,
the false and grossly conceived Old-Testament view of the Theocracy,
contains within it the entire germ of the papacy, which needed nothing
more than to unfold itself, under favorable circumstances, in the con-
genial soil of the spirit of an age in which the confusion of the outward
form with the inner essence became continually more inveterate.
We saw this idea carried out to some extent in the preceding period,
particularly in the North-African church : — not that this tendency of
the Christian mind prevailed more than elsewhere in the North-African
church ; but rather, because here was the dogmatic spirit which appre-
hended this tendency with the clearest consciousness,— and in this
church it appears again, during the present period, with peculiar promi-
nence. Optatus of Mileve, who wrote in the last half of the fourth
1 Ep. 113. διδασκάλων τῆς ἀληϑείας, Πέτρου καὶ Navdov,
2 Theodoretus, in the letter above referred τὰς ϑῆκας, τῶν πίστων τὰς ψύχας φωτιζούσας.
to, expresses himself on this subject as fol- So an illuminating influence, which issued
lows: Ἔχει καὶ τῶν κυίνων πατέρων καὶ from their proximity
PETER’S PRIMACY. 167
century, represents the apostle Peter as the head of the apostles, — as
the representative of the unity of the church and of the apostolic
power, who had received the keys of the kingdom of heaven for the
purpose of giving them to the others. He finds it worthy of remark,
that Peter, notwithstanding that he had denied Christ, yet continued to
hold this relation to the rest of the apostles, so that the objective side
of the unity of the church, which was thus incapable of being invali-
dated by any human fault, appears in its unchafhgeable constancy. In
the Roman church he perceives the indestructible cathedra Petri. This
stands in the same relation to the other episcopal churches as the apos-
tle Peter stood to the rest of the apostles. ‘The Roman church repre-
sents the one visible church, the one episcopate.!_ There was one apos-
tolic power in Peter, from which the apostolic powers of the others
issued forth, as it were, like so many different streams ; and, in like man-
ner, there is one episcopal power in the Roman church, from which the
other episcopal powers are but so many different streams. How much
might be derived out of this idea, so apprehended? Far more than
the individual who thus expressed himself was aware of. Augustin
would be led by his thoroughly Christian character ; by the prevailing
tendency in his inner life and in his system of faith to the objectively
godlike ; by that spirit of protestation against all deification of man
which actuated him, —and by which no inconsiderable opposition was,
in the next succeeding centuries, actually excited against the Catholic
element, although, in the case of Augustin himself, this religious ele-
ment had become completely fused with the Catholic, — by all these
inward causes, Augustin would be led to more correct views of the
words of our Lord in their reference to Peter. He rightly perceived,
that not Peter, but Christ himself, is the Rock on which the church has
been founded ; that this word of our Lord, therefore, has reference only
to that faith in Christ in the person of Peter, through which he was the
man of rock ; and that consequently the whole church, which rests on
this faith, is represented by Peter. ‘‘ He was,” says Augustin, “ in
this case, the image of the whole church, which in the present world is
shaken by divers trials, as by floods and storms ; and yet does not fall,
because it is founded on the rock from which Peter received his name.
For the rock is not so called after Peter, but Peter is so called after
the rock ; just as Christ is not so denominated after the Christian, but
the Christian after Christ; for it is on this account our Lord declares,
On this rock I will found my church, because Peter had said: Thou art
the Christ, the Son of the living God. On this rock, which thou hast
1 See Optatus Milevitan. 1. VII. ¢. 3.
Bono unitatis Petrus satis erat, si post quod
negavit, solam yeniam consequeretur, et
preferri apostolis omnibus meruit, et claves
regni cceelorum communicandas ceteris, solus
accepit. Thus men confounded the faith
which Peter expressed in the spirit of all
believers, and to which alone Christ’s words
referred, with the person of Peter as a man;
instead of drawing the conclusion from this
very circumstance of Peter’s denial, that his
person could, as little as that of any other
man. furnish the rock on which the kingdom
of Christ was to be built. And 1. 11. 6.2:
In urbe Roma a Petro primo cathedram
episcopalem esse collatam, in qua sederit
omnium apostolorum caput Petrus, in qua
una eathedra unitas ab omnibus servaretur,
ne czteri apostoli singulas sibi quisque de-
fenderent.
108 AUTHORITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH.
confessed, he declares, I will build my church ;! for Christ was the Rock
on whose foundation Peter himself was built; for other foundation
hath no man laid than that which is laid, which is Christ Jesus.” ?
Had Augustin made himself clearly conscious of what he here expressed,
and prosecuted it to the end, he would have arrived at the conception
of the church as the community of the believers in Christ, and so —
as this faith is an inward invisible fact — to the conception of the invisi-
ble church ; and consequently this passage would no longer have re-
tained with him the sense which men would fain give it in reference to
the visible church, to the episcopal power, and to the relation of the
Roman church in particular to the church universal. Having once
been led, however, by the whole course of his religious and theological
training, into the habit of confounding together the visible and the invisi-
ble church, and having allowed this error to become firmly rooted in his
doctrinal system, his views became thereby narrowed ; and, instead of
holding fast by the purely spiritual conception of the church which
must have here presented itself to him, he involuntarily substituted for
it the conception of the visible church, which had already been firmly
established in his system ; and so it may have happened that even in
his mind too, with the notion of Peter as a representative of the church,
there came to be associated the idea of a permanent representation in
the Roman church.’ But, without question, the spirit of ecclesiastical
freedom among the North Africans was the farthest possible removed,
as we shall see hereafter, from any inclination to concede all the conse-
quences which there was a disposition already in the Roman church to
derive from these notions.
In the minds of the Roman bishops we perceive the idea beginning
1 This exposition is certainly correct as
to its spirit, but not exactly according to
the letter; as these words refer literally not
to Christ himself, but to Peter personally,—
but at the same time only in so far as he
had borne witness of this faith.
2 Ecclesia non cadit, quoniam fundata est
super petram, unde Petrus nomen accepit.
Non enim a Petro petra, sed Petrus a petra;
sicut non Christus a Christiano, sed Christi-
anus a Christo vocatur. Ideo quippe ait
Dominus, Super hane petram zedificaho ec-
clesiam meam, quia dixerat Petrus: Tu es
Christus, Filius Dei vivi. Super hanc ergo
petram, quam confessus, xdificabo ecclesiam
meam. Petra enim erat Christus, super
quod fundamentum etiam ipse edificatus est
Petrus, 1 Cor.3:11. Ecclesia ergo, que
fundatur in Christo. In Johann. Evang.
Tractat. 124, § 5. The other exposition of
this passage, by which it is referred only to
the person of Peter, Augustin himself had
presented in his work contra epistolam Do-
nati, which has not come down to us.
3 Τῇ the book de utilitate credendi, § 35,
he traces the development of the church as
a divine institution, endowed with divine
authority, ab apostolica sede per successiones
episcoporum. ‘This book he wrote, to be
sure, before he had come to deviate, as he
did afterwards, from the ordinary exposition
of this passage, as it was understood at
Rome and in North Africa; but the fact is
explained in the way above described, that,
by this change of views as to the exegetical
meaning, nothing was changed in Augustin’s
doctrinal system. He distinguishes, in the
place above referred to, a threefold relation
of Peter; — the same person being con-
sidered in respect to his individual nature
as a man, in respect to his nature by divine
grace as a Christian, and at the same time
as abundantiore gratia primus apostolorum.
Those words, it is true, ought properly to
refer to the second relation of Peter, inas-
much as he represented the person of all
Christians; but it is easy to see, that, in
substituting the notion of the church in the
place of Christians, he might ‘be led to con-
found the second and the third together.
Thus Peter was distinguished as the first of
the apostles by the very circumstance that
he was to represent the visible church in his
own person, and that its development was
to proceed forth from him. And what was
considered true of Peter, was transferred to
the church of Rome
ι
PETER’S PRIMACY. 169
already to develope itself more clearly and distinctly, that to them, as
the successors and representatives of the apostle Peter, belonged the
sovereign guidance of the whole church. Although it may be observed,
doubtless, here and there, in occasional instances, that the idea of uni-
versal dominion, associated with Rome, was transferred from its politi-
cal meaning, and clothed in a spiritual dress ;! yet nothing was to them
more offensive than that confusion of the political and spiritual provin-
ces which they believed they discovered, whenever their higher dignity
and authority, instead of being suffered to rest on the foundation of the
divine institution, was attempted to be derived from the political superi-
ority of Rome. The delegates of the Roman bishop, Leo the Great,
protested emphatically against the above-mentioned decree of the coun-
cil of Chalcedon, which on this ground attributed to the bishopric of
Constantinople the same rights as to the episcopate of Rome. When
this decree came to be made known to Leo, he despatched various letters
to the emperor, to Anatolius the patriarch of Constantinople, and to the
whole council, in which he strongly declared his disapprobation of
what he pronounced to be a usurpation. In the letter to the emperor he
says:* “The case is quite different with worldly relations, and with
those that concern the things of God ; and without that rock which our
Lord has wonderfully laid as the foundation, no structure can stand firm.
Let it satisfy Anatolius that, by your assistance, and by my ready
assent, he has attained to the bishopric of so great a city. Let not
the imperial city be too small for him, which yet he cannot convert into
an apostolic see,’’ (sedes apostolica.) Leo appealed to the inviolable
authority of the Nicene council: he alluded very probably to the above
cited sixth canon of that council, which really stood in necessary con-
tradiction with this new arrangement, only on the principle that the dig-
nity of the church stood wholly independent of political relations. He
contended for the rights of the Alexandrian and of the Antiochian
churches, which would: be impaired in case that the church at Constan-
tmople claimed to itself the primacy over the entire East; he con-
tended for the rights of the metropolitan bishops, which would be jeop-
ardized by the patriarchate which Anatolius assumed over Asia Minor,
Pontus and Thrace. And he contrived, in the end, to trace back the
higher inviolable dignity of the Alexandrian and Antiochian churches
also to the apostle Peter ; of the former, namely, to Mark, the disciple
of the apostle Peter ; and of the second, immediately to Peter himself,
since he was the first to preach the gospel in that place. Anatolius
having appealed to the authority of the second ecumenical council,
which had adjudged this rank to the church of Constantinople, Leo
1 ΤῊ the remarkable work, de vocatione
gentium, which was probably written by
Leo the Great, while he was still a deacon,
1. 11. c. 6, it is said: Roma, que tamen per
apostolici sacerdotii principatum amplior
facta ‘est arce religionis quam solio potes-
tatis; and Leo M. p. 80: Civitas sacerdo-
talis et regia, per sacram b. Petri sedem
caput orbis effecta, latius preesidens religione
divina, quam dominatione terrena.
VOL. II.
2 Ep. 78. x
8 Which refers to Leo’s approval of the
choice of Anatolius, which had been sought
after in consequence of certain disputes as
to matters of doctrine. The Roman bishops
well understood, however, how to take ad-
vantage of every occasion which could be
interpreted into the recognition of a right
conceded to them.
170 AUTHORITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH.
replied, that no assembly of bishops, whether large or small, could
decide anything against the authority of the Nicene council. He
speaks on this occasion with smgular contempt of a council which was
afterwards generally reckoned, both in the Western and in the Hastern
church, among the number of ecumenical councils. The canon drawn
up by that body he declared to be null and void ; and would allow it
no validity, if for no other reason, because it had never been communi- ᾿
cated to the Roman church.!
It is impossible to doubt as to what the popes, even as early as the
fifth century, believed themselves to be, or would fain be, in relation to
the rest of the church, after having once listened to the language which
they themselves hold on this subject. When a North-African council
at Carthage had sent a report of their conclusions, in the decision of a
controverted point of doctrine, to the Roman bishop Innocent, and de-
manded his assent to these conclusions ; in his answer of the year 417,
he first praised them because they had considered themselves bound to
submit the matter to his judgment, since they were aware what was
due to the apostolical chair ; since all who occupied this seat strove to
follow in the steps of that apostle from whom the episcopal dignity it-
self, and the entire authority of this name, had emanated. With good
right had they held sacred the institutions of the fathers, who had de-
cided, not according to human, but according to the divine counsels,
that whatever was transacted in provinces, let them be ever so remote,
should not be considered as ratified, until it had come to the knowledge
of the apostolic chair; so that, by its entire authority, every just deci-
sion might be confirmed, and the other churches (as the pure streams
should be distributed from the original, undisturbed source, through the
different countries of the whole world?) might learn from ¢hzs church
what they had to ordain, whom they had to pronounce innocent, and
whom to reject as irreclaimably wrong. Leo the Great declares, in a
letter to the Illyrian bishops, in which, after the example of the Roman
bishop Siricius, he names the bishop of Thessalonica the representative
of the apostolic power, (vicarius apostolicus,) ‘‘ that on him, as the
successor of the apostle Peter, on whom, as the reward of his faith, the
Lord had conferred the primacy of apostolic rank, and on whom he had
firmly grounded the universal church, was devolved the care of all the
churches, to participate in which he invited his colleagues, the other
bishops.” ὃ
1p. 80,c.5. Persuasioni tuz in nullo pe-
nitus suffragatur quorumdam episcoporum
ante sexaginta (ut jactas) annos facta con-
scriptio, nunquamque a_predecessoribus
tuis ad apostolicze sedis transmissa notitiam,
cui ab initio sui caducz dudumgue collapsz
sera nune et inutilia subjicere fundamenta
yoluisti. It hardly answers the purpose to
attempt, as has been done, to make out that
the authority of this council was recognized
by Leo, and thus to bring the latter into
agreement with the opinion of the later
Roman church, by referring this disparaging
judgment of Leo, without any regard to the
natural sense of the passage, simply to this
single canon of the council.
2 The thought is plainly implied, that all
the churches could hold fast to the pure
doctrine only by remaining steadfast in their
connection with the Roman, as the mother
church, — the original, invincible fountain-
head of the transmitted, divine doctrine, as
well as of all spiritual power.
3 Quia per omnes ecclesias cura nostra
distenditur, exigente hoe a nobis Domine,
qui apostolicse dignitatis beatissimo apostolo
Petro primatum fidei suze remuneratione
commisit, universalem ecclesiam in funda-
CIRCUMSTANCES FAVOR ITS INCREASE. 171
The favorable situation of the Roman church in its relation to the
Eastern churches, brought along with it many circumstances which
might be turned in support of this assumption of the Roman bishops.
As we have already had occasion to observe, the Eastern church stood
in far greater dependence on political influences than the Western ; and
what, in some respects, stood connected with this fact, there was in the
former no church possessed of such decided external preponderance as
the Roman church enjoyed in relation to the West. On the contrary,
the oppositions and jealousies among the patriarchal churches, as
we have said, were the source of many disputes; and the higher
authority of the recently promoted Byzantine church, in particular,
was, at all times, a thing extremely offensive to the ancient patriarchal
church of Alexandria. Again, the Western church, by reason of its
predominant Roman spirit, so unbending and practical, and by reason of
its characteristic life, which was not so restlessly scientific, preserved
greater tranquillity in the course of its doctrinal development. On the
other hand, the more excitable and actively scientific spirit of the Greeks,
the speculative bent of mind, the manifold spiritual elements which here
came in contact with each other, — all this was a source of manifold
disputes in the Greek church, which, through the disturbing interference
of the state, were still further promoted, and at the same time rendered
more intricate and perplexing. Now, while in the Western church the
greatest tranquillity prevailed, contrasted with this agitated condition
of the Greek church, it came about that the contending parties of the
latter, and especially those who had against them the dominant power,
sought to obtain on their side the voice of the Western church, and
especially of the Roman as the most influential ang the one which gave
the tone to all the rest; and that those who were persecuted by the
dominant party, took refuge at Rome. Now, as it was of the utmost
importance to such persons to gain in their favor the voice of the Ro-
man church, so this interest influenced them in the choice of their ex-
pressions ; and, to show their respect for the Roman church, they made
use of such expressions as they would not have employed under other
circumstances. But the Roman bishops, who were already in the habit
of passing judgment on all the relations of the church from that once
established and settled point of view which we have just described,
found accordingly in such expressions, looking as they did at nothing
but the letter, an acknowledgment of that point of view, without con-
cerning themselves to inquire what the persons who used these expres-
sions really had in their minds. Protestations undoubtedly sometimes
followed from the dominant party of the East, when the decisions
of the Roman bishops ran contrary to their interests. Thus, for exam-
ple, when the Roman bishop Julius, instead of concurring with the domi-
nant party of the Eastern church, which had deposed from his office the
bishop Athanasius of Alexandria, had invited both parties to present
the matter, by their delegates, before an assembly of the Western
mento ipsius soliditate constituens, necessi- sociamus. Leo. ép. V. ad Metropolitanos
tatem sollicitudinis, quam habemus, cum _ Illyr.
his, qui nobis collegii caritate juncti sunt,
112 AUTHORITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH;
church ; the Eastern bishops, convened at Antioch, declared that it
not belong to him, a foreign bishop, to set himself up as a judge in the
affairs of the Eastern church ; that every synod was independent in its.
decisions ; that he, as bishop of a larger city, was no more than the
other bishops ; that it had, in truth, just as little entered into the minds
of his predecessors to interfere in the interior affairs of the Eastern:
church, to set themselves up as judges over the decisions of the East- -
ern synods in the Samosatenian disputes, as it had occurred to the older
bishops of the East to constitute themselves judges in the controversies
of the West; as, for example, the Novatian.1 But the party in whose
favor the Roman bishops had decided,’finally obtained the victory ; and
they could accordingly, taking advantage οἵ this fact, declare that pro-
testation to be null, and maintain the validity of their own judicial sen-.
tence. Under such fayorable circumstances they received many pub-
lic testimonials of their supreme juridical authority, which in the sequel
became of importance to them. To this class belong the three follow-
ing decrees of the council of Sardica:? “I. When a bishop is con-
demned in a matter, and he believes that injustice has been done him,
the synod which judged him shall write to the Roman bishop Julius ; so.
that, if necessary, the investigation may be renewed by the bishops οἵ.
the neighboring province, and he himself name the judges. II. That,
in such a case, no other’person shall be nominated to fill the place of
the deposed bishop, until the Roman bishop shall have received notice
of it, and decided on the point. III. If, in such a case, the deposed
bishop appeal to the bishop of Rome, and the latter considers a new
investigation to be advisable, he may commit such investigation to the
bishops of the neighboring province, and may also send to it presbyters,
out of the body of his clergy, to assist in the inquiry.” Thus this
synod, no doubt, assigned to the Roman bishop a certain supreme
power of jurisdiction, a right of revision in the affairs of the bishops.
But it admits also of being easily explained how they came to do this.
Besides the Western bishops, those only from the East were present at
this council who had been condemned and deposed there by the party
hostile to them. It was the interest of the dominant party in this
council, that the judgment of the Eastern synods with regard to Atha-
nasius should be reversed, and the latter restored to his place again.
The council of Sardica was intended, it is true, in its first arrangement,
to be an ecumenical one. But as the Orientals had in a great measure
separated from it, it could lay no just claims to this character; and it
seems that its canons, in the next succeeding times, stood in no very
high authority even in the Western church itself. But, very natural-
ly, these canons must have been highly acceptable to the Roman. .
church; and in this church, therefore, they could not be forgotten. So
much the more easily might it here happen that these canons, to which
a peculiar importance must have been attached, would be unconsciously
confounded and given out for the same with those of the Nicene coun-
1 Vid. Julii epist. I. adv. Eusebianos, ἡ 4 et 5. Socrat. 1. II.c. 15. Hilarii opus histo
ricum Fragmentum, III. § 26. 2 Canon. III. IV. et V.
CIRCUMSTANCES FAVOR ITS INCREASE. 173
ΠΑ second declaration, by which, in the year 378 or 381, a cer-
tain supreme authority of jurisdiction in ecclesiastical affairs was con-
ceded to the Roman bishop Damasus, proceeded, however, only from an
emperor, Gratian ; and had reference simply to a schism which had
- arisen in Rome in which the Roman bishop was particularly interested.
(See, below, History of Schisms.)
A third case was this: The bishop Hilarius of Arles, whose zeal in
discharging the duties of his spiritual office, whose life of strict piety
and active benevolence commanded universal respect, had proceeded, on
a certain occasion, while visiting the churches as metropolitan bishop of
this part of Gaul (Gallia Narbonnensis) — which authority the bishops
of Arles had exercised for a long time, though not without its being dis-
puted, — to depose from his office, with the consent of a synod, a cer-
tain bishop by the name of Celidonius.1_ The latter, however, applied
to Rome, and succeeded in persuading Leo that injustice had been done
him. MHilarius himself hastened to Rome, and openly defended his
cause. But when he perceived that Leo was already committed on the
side of Celidonius and determined to take his part, he judged it advisa-
ble to leave Rome again. At this proceeding, Leo was still more exas-
perated : it appeared to him a very punishable act of disobedience, that
Hilarius ventured to withdraw himself from his ecclesiastical jurisdic
tion. He, without further ado, reinstated Celidonius in his office:
though, even according to the decrees of Sardica, it simply belonged
to him to direct that a new investigation of the matter should be insti-
tuted in the province itself, by the neighboring bishops, in which he
himself might participate by means of his delegates. He went so
far as to declare that, as the metropolitan authority had been conferred
by his predecessors on the bishop of Arles only by a special grant,
Hilarius had forfeited this power by his abuse of it, and that it should
again be transferred to the bishop of Vienna. Tis unspiritual mode of
apprehending the idea of the church, and the hierarchical arrogance so
easily cumbined therewith, carried him to such an extreme that he could
say: ‘‘ He who thinks himself called upon to dispute the primacy of
the apostle Peter, will find himself in nowise able to lessen that dignity ;
but, puffed up by the spirit of his own pride, will plunge himself into
hell.” 2. Thus whoever refused to subject himself to the usurped spirit-
ual domination of a man, was to be excluded from the kingdom of
heaven. It had been well for Leo, if he had applied to himself what
he addressed to the Gallic bishops: ‘‘ That the fellowship of the church
was not to be forbidden to any Christian by the arbitrary will of an
angry priest ; that a soul for which Christ has shed his blood, must not
be excluded from the privilege of church communion on account of some
insignificant word.”” The young emperor, Valentinian III., who was
at the beck of the Roman bishop, issued thereupon a law in the year
445, in which he says: ‘The primacy of the apostolic seat having been
1 Τὸ is disputed, whether this bishop be- stretching his power beyond the limits of
longed to the metropolitan diocese of Hila- that diocese, and thus to violate ecclesiasti
rius, or whether zeal for church discipline, cal forms.
or passion, led him to the wrong step of 2 Vid. ep. 9, 10.
VOL, II. 15*
114 AUTHORITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH.
established by the merit of the apostle Peter, by the dignity of the city
of Rome, and by the authority of a holy synod,! no pretended power
shall arrogate to itself anything against the authority of that seat. For
peace can be universally preserved only when the whole church acknowl-
edges its ruler.”’ Resistance to the authority of the Roman bishop is
declared to be an offence against the Roman state. It is establishedas .
a settled ordinance for all times, that as well the Gallic bishops, as the
bishops of all the other provinces, could not properly undertake any-
thing without authority from the Pope of the eternal city (Papa urbis
zeterne.) What the authority of the apostolic seat ordained, should be
law for all, so that every bishop who, when summoned before the tribu-
nal of the Roman bishop, declined to appear, should be forced to do so
by the governor of the province.
The emperor, by whom the spiritual and the political points of view
were here confounded together, willed that the church of his empire,
just_as the latter itself, should have one acknowledged principal head ;
but the whole previous constitution of the church could not possibly be
overthrown by an imperial edict. Hilarius seems, notwithstanding, to
have remained in possession of his metropolitan dignity ; he maintained
the rights of his church, although he sought by a respectful deportment
to become reconciled with the Roman bishop.”
The North-African church, which most distinctly expressed the prin-
ciple from which these consequences were derived, was, however, the
farthest removed from conceding these latter. That spirit of ecclesias-
tical freedom which had already, in the time of Cyprian, opposed itself
to the Roman assumptions, was here ever predominant. As cases
were frequently occurring in which members of the clerical body that
had been deposed on account of their offences, took refuge with the
Roman church, and were there received; the councils of Carthage, in
the years 407 and 418, ordained? that whoever thereafter, instead of
appealing to the jurisdiction of the North-African church itself, ap-
pealed to one beyond the sea, should be excluded from the fellowship
of the church. Yet it subsequently happened that a deposed presbyter,
Apiarius, appealed to the Roman bishop Zosimus. The latter was dis-
posed to bring the matter before his tribunal; and when this met with
some resistance, he fell back for support on the cited canons of the
council of Sardica; which, however, he caused to be presented by his
delegates at the council of Carthage in the year 419, as Nicene canons.
To the Africans it appeared extremely strange that these canons,
which were wholly unknown to them, were nowhere to be found in their
collection of the doings of the Nicene council. They resolved that they
would assume them for the present to be valid; yet cause inquiry to
be made by consulting the genuine ancient manuscripts of the doimgs
1 The council of Nice or of Sardica.
2 Tt is to be regretted, that there are no
remaining records of these transactions be-
tween Hilary and Leo. The words which
the city praefect, (preefectus urbis,) Auxili-
aris, who sought to make himself mediator,
addressed to Hilary, are worthy of notice:
Impatienter ferunt homines, si sic loqua-
mur, quomodo nobis conscii sumus. Aures
preeterea Romanorum quadam teneritudine
plus trahuntur, in quam si se Sanctitas tua
demittat, plurimum tu nihil perditurus ac-
quiris.
8 Cod. Afr. c. 28.
GENERAL COUNCILS. 175
of the Nicene council, preserved in the Eastern churches at Constanti-
nople, Alexandria, and Antioch, for the purpose of ascertaining whether
they really belonged to them. ‘This they gave notice of to the Roman
bishop Bonifacius, who had meanwhile succeeded Zosimus. They in-
vited him also to make inquiries of the like nature; but at the same
time they declared that, even according to these laws, the affairs of
other ecclesiastics besides bishops must be settled only within their own
provinces. “Ἂς Now although these laws were observed in Italy, yet they
should not be compelled to submit to such intolerable encroachments.
Yet they hoped that under his ecclesiastical rule they would not have
to suffer from such arrogance.”’1 . Amid the doctrinal disputes of the
fifth and sixth centuries, the Pelagian controversy and that concerning
the edict de tribus capitulis, we see often the Africans maintaining
their doctrinal. principles even when in contradiction with the Roman ;
and we see, in fact, the Roman bishop Zosimus finally yielding to the
decisions of the Africans.
We must accordingly hold fast to this as the result of the church
development of this period,— that the idea of an external church
theocracy under one sovereign head was already present in the minds
of the Roman bishops; and although a spirit of ecclesiastical indepen-
dence, which flowed from the earliest Christian antiquity, still presented
many obstacles to the realization of this idea, and the Eastern church
ever remained disinclined to acknowledge it, yet important germs of such
a realization were already existing in the Western churches, which,
under favorable circumstances, in later times, would doubtless be taken
advantage of.
To represent the outward unity of the churth, another important
institution came in during this period, which, it is true, originated also
in that general, fundamental idea of the external, visible church ; yet,
if the Christian doctrine had not first evolved itself into precisely this
form of a universal monarchy, could not so easily have shaped itself in
the way it did; we mean the general assemblies of the church, con-
cilia universalia, συνόδοι οἰκουμενίκαι (by οἰκουμένη Was understood, originally,
the Roman empire.) Men being accustomed already to regard the
provincial synods as the highest legislative and judicial tribunals for the
churches of the several provinces, it was natural, when disputes arose
which occupied the largest portion of the Christendom of the Roman
empire, that the thought should occur of forming, after some analogous
manner, a like tribunal for the Christendom of the whole Roman em-
pire; and this was soon transferred, generally, to the entire church
universal, The provincial synods then being customarily regarded as
organs of the Holy Spirit for the guidance of the churches of a certain
district, so now this was applied to the relation of universal councils to the
whole church. These universal councils had a two-fold aim, to decide dis-
putes concerning doctrines, and to determine the constitution, the forms
of worship, and the discipline of the church; to which latter, the canons
of these assemblies had reference.
1 Non sumus jam istum typhum passuri.
176 GENERAL COUNCILS.
It was not possible, at these councils, to arrive at a calm understand-
ing of disputed points of doctrine. Each party was fettered to its sys-
tem already made out, and judged everything by it without entering at
all into the examination of the notions entertained by others. It was
a strife of party passions ; and the result of the proceedings was already
predetermined by the relation of the contending parties to the dominant —
power. Gregory of Nazianzus, who expressed the result of a large
and various experience, gives the following remarkable account of the
mode of proceeding at such assemblies:1 “I am so constituted,” he
writes, “ that, to speak the truth, I dread every assembly of bishops ;
for I have never yet seen a good end of any one,—never been ata
synod which did more for the suppression, than it did for the increase,
of evils; for an indescribable thirst for contention and for rule prevails
in them, and a man will be far more likely to draw upon himself the
reproach of wishing to set himself up as a judge of other men’s wicked-
ness, than he will be to succeed in any attempts of his to remove it.”
Yet, despite of the many impure human motives which intruded
themselves into these councils, men regarded them as the organs by
which the Holy Ghost guided the progressive movement of the church,
— as the voice by which the Holy Ghost determined what had before
been doubtful, and to which every man was bound, therefore, to sub-
mit his own fallible, subjective judgment. The theory of Augustin on
this subject was, that ‘‘the decision of controverted questions does not
proceed in the first instance and directly from the transactions of these
councils ; but that these transactions, rather, are prepared by the theo-
logical investigations which have preceded them. The decisions of
councils simply give the expression of public authority to the result at
which the church, in its development thus far, has arrived. Hence it
may happen that a controverted matter, at a particular time, cannot as
yet be decided, even by a general council; because the previous inves-
tigations have not as yet sufficiently prepared the way for a definitive, a
settled result.”” According to this theory, general councils should express
and settle firmly the universal Christian consciousness, up to that point of
its development which, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, who is
the actuating principle of the whole life of the church, it has reached
at a certain period of time. The universal Christian consciousness is
thus merely fixed in a determinate expression, — the sum and contents
of Christian truth more clearly and distinctly evolved in opposition to
the latest errors. Hence an enlightened church-teacher may, at a par-
ticular period, be in error on some one important point, without there-
fore falling into heresy; since, in respect to this one point, there may
as yet have been no general decision of the Christian consciousness.
But when, by continual investigation, the evolution of the universal Chris-
tian consciousness has reached this point, and expressed itself on the
matter in question through the voice of a general council, a proper
humility requires it of the individual, that he should submit his own sub-
jective judgment to that general decision guided by the Holy Ghost,
1 Ep. ad Procop. 55.
GENERAL COUNCILS. La
It is only the pride of self-will that revolts against lawful authority ; it
is, in truth, a principle grounded in nature, that the part should subor-
dinate itself to the whole. According to the theory of Augustin, how-
ever, the earlier councils might be corrected and improved by later
ones ; since each council gives only that decision which answers to the
stage of development which the church has arrived at in each several
period. Yet it may be a question whether Augustin really supposed
that a council could express positive errors; or whether his opinion was
simply like that soon afterwards expressed by Vincentius of Sirinum,
in his Commonitorium, a work written somewhere about the year 434;
namely, that a later council should correct the decisions of the earlier,
only so far as to define what the other had left undetermined, just as
the more advanced development of the church might require in its op-
position to new forms of error.!_ Thus the freedom of the spiritual evo-
lution of Christianity among mankind was to find an impassable barrier
in the decisive authority of general councils.?_ We see here, fully de-
veloped already, the germs of that system of restriction which grew
out of the habit of confounding together the visible and the invisible
church, and which reigned supreme, until, by the work of God in the
Reformation, was produced that free life of the spirit, which has its
ground in the essence of the gospel, and uniformly accompanies it where
it is preached in its purity.
The essence of Christianity struggles against the demand of a blind
submission to human authority; it requires no other obedience than
that which answers to the true nature and dignity of man’s spirit; and
it stands in no sort of contradiction with true freedom, but rather is the
only thing that can produce it. All that it requires is, that man’s
spirit, having become conscious of its true wants, should submit to the
teachings of God’s eternal Spirit, who alone can communicate that
which will satisfy all itslongings. This Spirit speaks, through the divine
word, to each individual, in the inner recesses of his heart, according to
the measure of his recipiency ; and it is only what each one knows from
this source and through this revelation, in the inner recesses of his
heart, that he can vitally believe, and from his inmost consciousness ac-
knowledge to be true. Facundus of Hermiane says:? “ To his priests,
assembled in his name, Christ can never be wanting; because he, being
almighty truth, can in no way prove false to his promise.” But the
condition here presupposed, without which the fulfilment of that promise
could not be realized, was in fact precisely the thing so often wanting
1 Augustin. de baptismo contra Donatis-
tas, l. Il. c. 3.. Ipsa plenaria concilia szepe
priora posterioribus emendari, cum aliquo
experimento rerum aperitur quod clausum
erat et cognoscitur quod latebat. sine ullo
typho sacrilege superbie, sine ulla inflata
cervice arrogantiz, sine ulla contentione
livid invidiz, cum sancta humilitate, cum
pace catholica, cum caritate Christiana.
But where did ever such a spirit prevail in
2 council? Compare with this the above-
cited words of Gregory of Nazianz.
2 Thus the excellent bishop Facundus of
Hermiane —a man who shows great free-
dom within certain limits— says, about
the middle of the sixth century, (defens.
trium capitulorum, 1. V. ο. 5:) Neque enim
est alia conciliorum faciendorum utilitas,
quam ut quod intellectu non capimus, ex
auctoritate credamus.
8 In the VIII. vol. of his work, Defens.
trium capitulorum, c. 7
178 CHURCH DISCIPLINE.
in these assemblies. Almost anything else might, in many cases, be
affirmed of them, than that they were assembled in the name of Christ.
What warrant had men to believe that they who had not brought with
them the temper which was required in order to hear the voice of the
Divine Spirit, ought to be considered as its organs for the rest of the
church? In things spiritual and divine, it cannot hold good that
the individual must subordinate himself to the whole ; for the individual
Spirit may, in truth, by its freedom and by the purity of its will, out-
run, in its own course of development, the whole multitude chained to
that spirit of the age which is not the spirit of truth. The individual
may have fought his way to freedom, where the multitude are in bond-
ave. Hrrors are often propagated without design, when they have made
good their dominion over the consciousness of men. Individuals who
surrender themselves to the spirit of truth, which speaks not barely to
the masses, but also to each individual according to the recipient tem-
per of his mind, attain by clear consciousness to the separation of the
true from the false ; and how could they possibly be under any obliga-
tion to subject themselves to the dominant spirit of untruth? But even
in case the spirit of truth had been spoken by a general council, still
this expression could be binding only on him who, by the same spirit
of truth, had recognized the same as true from the divine word. Thus
there was substituted here a cringing to human authority and consequent
servility of spirit, in place of that true humility which gives all the honor
to God, the Spirit of absolute truth alone; and which, therefore, in
freeing men from bondage to human opinions, makes them free indeed.
As the decisions of general councils had respect not only to matters
of doctrine, but also to matters connected with the outward life of the
church, to the church constitution, and to church usages, another evil
ensued ; namely, that by means of them the forms of training, which,
by their own nature, are multiform and variable, were subjected to an
unchangeable law of dead uniformity.
Again, since the general councils constituted a legislative tribunal
for the entire church, the material was now at hand for a universal
ecclesiastical legislation. ‘The Roman abbot, Dionysius Exiguus, pre-
sented to the Western church, in the early times of the sixth century, a
book of ecclesiastical laws ; consisting of a collection which he had made
from the written decisions (decretales) of the Roman bishops—in
answer to ecclesiastical questions addressed to them — from the time of
Siricius, or from the year 385 and onward, and from decrees (canones)
of the general, and of the more important provincial councils. This
work soon obtained paramount authority; and it had an important
influence in shaping out the papal monarchy in the Western church,
that he had assigned so prominent a place to the papal decrees.
11. Tue DiscreLIne oF THE CHURCH.
The principle was transmitted from the preceding to the present
times, that those who had by gross transgressions violated their bap-
tismal vows, should be excluded from the fellowship of the church and
from participating in the communion ; and not till they had given satis-
PENANCE. 179
factory proofs of repentance were they to receive absolution from the
bishop, and to be admitted again to church fellowship. During the
Novatian controversies of the preceding period, men had agreed on
certain common principles respecting the nature of penitence. It was
agreed that to no one, of whatever offence he might have been guilty,
provided that by his conduct thus far he had shown the marks of sincere
repentance, should be refused the communion in the hour of death.
Gradually the penitents came to be distributed into different classes,
after the same manner as the catechumens, according to their different
degrees of fitness for being restored back to the fellowship of the church.
The first class‘was formed of those who were not yet allowed to enter
the church.2 They were bound to stand without the doors of the church,
and to implore with weeping the intercession of the members of the
community as they entered; at the same time prostrating themselves
to the earth,—hence they were called προσκλαιόντε. Next followed
those who were permitted to listen with all the unbaptized in the outer
area of the church (the νάρϑηξ, the ferula) to the sermon and to the
reading of the scriptures. Then followed those in whose behalf a
special prayer of the church was offered; on which occasion they fell
on their knees, and hence were called ὑποπιπτόντες, substrati. Finally,
those who were allowed to be present at all the prayers and transactions
of the church, but yet could not themselves bring a gift to the altar,
or participate in the communion (χωρὶς προσφορὰς κοινωνούντες τῶν προσευχῶν.)
Entering under obligations to do penance for particular sins within a
determinate time, was a practice which had no existence in this period.
The only cases which could occur were, either that the bishop excluded
from church fellowship those whose transgressions had become sufhi-
ciently notorious, and granted to them the privilege of readmission only
on condition of subjecting themselves to a church penance fixed upon
by himself in some proportion to their crime ; or else that they volun-
tarily made confession of their sins to the bishop, which act was consid-
ered in itself a token of repentance, and therefore had some influence
in mitigating the penance of the church.?
Still, in carrying out the principles which had been established on
the subject of admission to the communion and of penance, the church,
since it no longer constituted, as in the preceding period, a body sub-
sisting by itself and independent of all others, found many difficulties
1 See Concil. Nic. canon 13. If such a
person subsequently recovered, he was to
be placed back once more in the fourth
class of poenitentes.
2 ᾿Απειργομένοι τῆς ἐκκλησίας they are
called, in Gregory Nyssen. epistola canoni-
ca ad Letojun.
vexed by evil spirits, in the same place with
Energumens. The first is the more proba-
ble.
® Chrysostom says of those who
the communion as impenitent
Τοὺς μὲν δήλους ἡμῖν αὐτοὶ πάντως ἀπείρξο-
μεν, τοὺς δὲ ἀγνώστους ἡμῖν TO ϑεῶ καταλει-
came to
sinners:
3 Basil. ep. canonica, III. Ambros. de
Peenitentia, |. 11. e. 10.
Ὁ Jt is uncertain what is meant in the 17th
canon of the council of Ancyra by εἰς τοὺς
χειμαζομένους edyéodar,—whether it de-
notes those among the first class of cate-
chumens without the doors of the church,
where they were exposed to all weathers,
or whether it stands for those in the class
ψώμεν, TH τὰ ἀποῤῥῆτα τῆς ἑκάστου διανοίας
εἴδοτι. See the Homily on the feast of
Epiphany, Savil. T. V. fol. 528. The same
holds the deacons accountable if they should
admit to the communion a person whom
they knew to be guilty of any sin which
was punishable with exclusion from the
fellowship of the church. Hom. 82, Matth
near the end.
180 CHURCH DISCIPLINE.
which could not exist in the foregoing period, at least in the same de-
gree. Cases occurred in which the bishop, by rigidly carrying out
these principles, must necessarily fear that a schism would be produced
in the church. The Donatists, of whom we shall presently speak, main-
tained that in such cases, in order to keep the church pure, no regard
should be paid to consequences ; although even their own bishops, it was
alleged, could not always proceed in exact accordance with this principle. -
Others, on the contrary, —as, for instance, Augustin, — maintained that
men should be content simply to rebuke many of the evils which were
widely spread. Much, they said, must be reserved to the judgment of
God. At the same time it was necessary to proceed with wisdom and
patience, so as to avoid a worse evil, and not to root up the good fruit
with the tares.' The second difficulty was, to carry out these principles
in their application to the great men of this world, who, even in the
church, could not be forgetful of their worldly rank. It was every-
where an acknowledged principle that here, before the tribunal of God’s
word, no respect of persons ought to be admitted. Chrysostom, in re-
quiring the deacons to debar the unworthy from participating in the
Lord’s supper, says: “Though the commander of an army or the gov-
ernor of a province, though one decked with the imperial crown, should
approach, yet, if heis unworthy, refuse him.”’2 But there must also
have been men, like Chrysostom, who spoke thus and acted accordingly ;
- who did not fear to sacrifice everything temporal, in rigidly carrying
out what they owned to be their duty as shepherds of the flock. In
the Western church the example of an Ambrose of Milan, who declared
to several emperors, that if they proceeded to execute a purpose which
appeared to him in violation of the duty of a Christian emperor, he
could not admit them to the communion, showed how much could be
effected in these times of despotism by the firmness of a bishop deeply
penetrated with a sense of the elevation and responsibleness of his call-
ing. The emperor Theodosius I., incensed at a seditious tumult which
broke out in the year 390 at Thessalonica, abandoned thousands, the
innocent with the guilty, to the blind fury of his soldiers. When the
emperor came afterwards to Milan, Ambrose, who had taken advantage
of a sickness to retire into the country, at first avoided an interview
with him, supposing that passion left in his soul no room as yet for the
lessons of religion. He thought that a letter which the emperor might
find time to peruse silently by himself, might make a more salutary im-
pression on him. He placed before him the example of the penitent
king David, and wrote: “Sin can be removed only by tears and re-
pentance. No angel or archangel can forgive sin; and the Lord him-
self, who only was able to say to us, J am with you, when we sin, for-
gives the sins of those only who come to him with repentance. Add
not to the sin already committed still another — that of presuming to
partake of the holy supper unworthily, which has redounded to the ruin
of many. I have no occasion to be obstinate with you; but I have
cause to fear for you. I dare not distribute the holy elements, if you
1 See Augustin. c. Parmenian.1. III. c.13, et seqq. § * Hom. 82. Matth. near the end.
a
PENANCE. 181
mean to be present and receive them. Shall I venture to do that
which I should not presume to do if the blood of one innocent individaal
had been shed, where the blood of so many innocent persons has been
shed ?”1 These words of Ambrose made such an impression on the
heart of Theodosius, that, penetrated with the deepest anguish, he sub-
jected himself to the public penance of the church, having first laid
aside his imperial robes ; and, as Ambrose says, not a day of his life
passed afterwards in which he did not remember with pain that cruel
transaction.2, Ambrose, it is said, did not give him absolution until, to
prevent the like effects of his irascible disposition for the future, he had
renewed a law of the emperor Gratian, which forbade any sentence of
death pronounced by the emperor to be executed short of an interval
of thirty days ; so that the sentence might be recalled, if, after the sub-
siding of passion, he found occasion to repent of it. The excellent
bishop Facundus of Hermiane observed subsequently to the emperor
Justinian, who was distracting the church by his despotic conduct:
“ Would God but raise up another Ambrose, there would be no want of
another Theodosius.”’ ὃ
When powerful individuals bade defiance to all the tribunals of the
church, one means still remained in the hands of the bishops; that of
solemnly excluding them from the church by the anathema, and making
this, together with the crimes committed by such individual, known to
all their colleagues in a circular letter. This means was employed by
Synesius against Andronicus, the worthless governor of Pentapolis, who
had oppressed the poor in the most cruel manner ; and the means were
attended with a happy result.
In the large cities, especially within the Greek church, a special
presbyter was appointed for the purpose of attending to the duty of
confession, and of determining for the penitents their due proportion
of church penance. But when the patriarch Nectarius of Constanti-
nople was led, by the scandal created by the crime of an ecclesiastic
thus made publicly known, to rescind this office, (about the year 390 ;)
the consequence of this was, that the whole system of confession and
penance, as it had till now existed in the Greek church, came to an end ;
and it was left free to each individual, according to his conscience, to
partake in the communion.‘ Still bishops—even the Greek church, as
1 Paulinus, in his life of Ambrose. The-
odoretus and Rufinus speak, it is true, of a
personal interview of Ambrose with the
emperor, whom he met at the threshold of
the church. In this case we must suppose
that the emperor, notwithstanding the writ-
ten representations in this letter, still ven-
tured to come to the communion; which is
not probable. And as those writers make
no mention at all of Ambrose’s letter, but
make Ambrose say orally to the emperor
nearly the same things which are written
in this letter, it is quite probable, that what
was contained in the letter came to be trans-
ferred to an oral interview which never took
place. How is it conceivable, that the em-
peror, as Paulinus states, should have ad-
VOL. II. 16
duced, in his defence on this occasion, that
very example of king David which Am
brose, in the letter, had already used against
him !
2 Ambrose, in his funeral discourse over
this emperor: Stravit omne, quo utebatur,
insigne regium, deflevit in ecclesia publice
peccatum suum, neque ullus postea dies
fuit, quo non illum doleret errorem. ,
8 Quia si nunc Deus aliquem Ambrosi-
um suscitaret, etiam Theodosius non deesset.
Pro defens. trium capitulorum, |. XII. c. V.
4 Socrates, V. 19. Sozom. VII. 16. Comp.
Morin. de Peenitentia, 1. VI. 22. The hom-
ilies of Chrysostom, which still presuppose
the ancient usage, were preached by him at
Antioch.
182 SCHISMS OF THE CHURCH.
examp.es of the next succeeding times teach us — ever reserved to
themselves the right of refusing the communion to vicious men. That
abolition, however, of the ancient system of church penance had, if we
may believe the church historian Sozomene, an injurious influence on the
general state of morals.
Ill. History oF THE ScHISMS OF THE CHURCH.
As in the preceding period, so also in this, we have concluded to
separate the history of church schisms from that of the disputes con-
cerning doctrine ; the former standing closely connected with the his-
tory of the development of the idea of the church, and the history of
the church constitution, and hence finding here its most natural place.
1. The Donatist Schism.
The most important and influential church division which we have to
mention in this period is the Donatist, which had its seat in North
Africa. This schism may be compared in many respects with that of
Novatian in the preceding period. In this, too, we see the conflict, for
example, of Separatism with Catholicism ; and it is therefore important,
in so far as it tended to settle and establish the notion of the visible,
outward unity of the church, and of the objective element in the things
of religion and of the church. That which distinguishes the present
case is, the reaction, proceeding out of the essence of the Christian .
church, and called forth, in this instance, by a peculiar occasion, against
the confounding of the ecclesiastical and political elements ; on which
occasion, for the first time, the ideas which Christianity, as opposed to
the pagan religion of the state, had first made men distinctly conscious
of, became an object of contention within the Christian church itself, —
the ideas concerning universal, inalienable human rights; concerning
liberty of conscience ; concerning the rights of free religious conviction.
The more immediate and local occasion of these disputes lay in a cer-
tain spirit of fanaticism, which, ever since the spread of Montanism, had
prevailed in North Africa, and also in various circumstances superin-
duced by the Dioclesian persecution.
We observed already, in our account of the persecution under Dio-
clesian, that as there were many at that time who had been induced, by
ferce or by fear, to deliver up the sacred writings in their possession,
(the traditores;) so too there were many accused of this, against
whom the accusation could by no means be proved. Such a charge
might easily be converted into a weapon for the gratification of per-
sonal malice : the propensity to mistake inferences for facts rendered it
no dificult matter to prove the accusations. When, for example, an
individual who had been arrested by the pagan magistrates, found
means, through some favorable circumstances or other, to deliver him-
self without denying ; yet men were prone to draw the conclusion that
if he had remained true to the faith, he would assuredly, like other
true confessors, have suffered martyrdom,—he could have escaped only
by denying. Again, as we have also remarked already in the history
of that persecution, the same principles were not held by all with re-
THE DONATIST SCHISM. 183
᾿ gard to the proper mode of conduct on these occasions. ‘Two parties
stood opposed to each other ; a prudent and a fanatical one. At the
head of the prudent party was the bishop Mensurius of Carthage ; and
as it was common, especially in the Western church, for the archdea-
cons to be the confidants of the bishops, and to take pains that the regu-
lations ordaired by them should be carried into effect, and that the dis-
cipline of the church should be maintained ; so it happened that his
archdeacon Ceecilianus stood in this relation to Mensurius. The two
seem to have been united in a mutual understanding to oppose supersti-
tion and fanaticism.
There were many who, with broken credit, having become weary of
life and anxious to get rid of it, hoped in martyrdom to find a death
honorable among the Christians and meritorious in the sight of God ;
or who, persecuted by the consciousness of guilt, hoped in this way to
free themselves at once from all their sins; or who were eager to be
thrown into prison as confessors, that they might there be loaded with
honor, kind treatment, and presents of all kinds, by their fellow Chris-
tians. Mensurius could not endure that such persons should be con-
firmed in their knavery or their delusion, and that other Christians
should be deceived and abused by them. He was desirous also of pre-
venting the scandal which would thus be given to the Pagans. He
therefore endeavored to put a stop to the expressions of honor and re-
spect which were paid to such men in their prisons, as well as to the
reverence shown them as martyrs after their death. In general, this
prudent man was unwilling to allow that fanatics who, without being |
accused or called for, surrendered themselves to the pagan authorities,
and though unasked, yet publicly declared they had Bibles in their
houses, but that they would not deliver them up, — that such enthusiasts
should be reverenced as martyrs. Since the Christians, moreover,
without reflection or pruderce, thronged in crowds to their dungeons,
and uneasiness and alarm might in this way be easily excited among
the Pagans, he directed his archdeacon to take precautions against
such results. As Mensurius disapproved of everything like fanati-
cal imprudence, so he considered it his duty to do everything for
the preservation of his own life, and for the external quiet of his com-
munity, which could be done without directly or indirectly denying the
faith. When he heard that a church at Carthage was to be searched
by the Pagans, he caused all the manuscripts of the Bible to be removed
from it to a place of safety, and writings of heretics to be substituted in
their stead, which the inquisitors were satisfied to find there, and asked
no farther questions.1_ Mensurius, as a natural consequence, made all
with whose’ superstition and fanaticism, or with whose selfish interests,
his own prudence and firmness came in conflict, his fiercest enemies ;
and these persons took pains to propagate the most infamous stories of
his conduct. Whether in this matter he and Cecilianus were wholly
innocent, or whether, misled by a well-meant but over-earnest zeal
1 Vid. Augustin. breviculus collationis historiam. pertinentia in Optat. Milevitan,
cum Donatistis diei III. ¢. 13, N.25,and de schismate Donatistarum, p. 174.
the monumenta vetera ad Donatistarum
184 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
against fanaticism, they allowed themselves to be drawn into various acts
of violence which might furnish grounds for just crimination, cannot,
for the want of impartial sources of information, be certainly known.
Suffice it to say, that the antagonists of Mensurius accused him of con-
cealing the truth, and of asserting that none but writings of heretics
were surrendered to the Pagans, for the purpose of clearing himself
from the charge of giving up the sacred scriptures. And even if the
pretence were well grounded, yet, declared they, it was not allowable for
a Christian to use such deception. Again, they accused him of having
caused the most harsh and violent measures to be adopted by Cecilian
for the purpose of hindering the Christians generally from testifying
their love and their sympathy for the imprisoned confessors.!
The fanatical party was patronized by the then primate of Numidia,
Secundus, bishop of Tigisis. In a letter to Mensurius, he disapproved
the manner in which that bishop had censured the fanatical confessors ;
and declared that all those who had suffered martyrdom rather than
deliver up their Bibles, deserved to be honored as martyrs. Following
the prevailing style of allegorical exposition peculiar to that age and
country, he appealed to the example of Rahab, who refused to sur-
render up the two spies ; for these were a symbol of the Old and New
Testaments. ‘When the soldiers of the police,” as he reported,
“came also to him, and demanded copies of the Bible, he said to them:
T am a Christian and a bishop; I am no traditor. And when they
asked only for a few useless pieces as a show, (such as writings of here-
tics,) he refused to give them even these ; — imitating the example of
the Maccabee Eleazar, who would not consent even to appear as if he
partook of the swine’s flesh, lest he might set an example of apostacy
to others.” 2
It is certain that the opinion was still prevailing with many in the
North-African church, which had maintained its ground from the time
of Cyprian,® that the validity of all sacerdotal acts depended on the
subjective character of the persons who performed them, and that
therefore they were valid only in case they were performed by mem-
bers of the true Catholic church ; — that consequently a sacerdotal act ex-
ecuted by an excommunicated person was wholly without force. When,
therefore, in the year 805, the Numidian provincial bishops, under the
presidency of the above-named Secundus, assembled at Cirta in Nu-
midia for the purpose of ordaining a new bishop for this city, the presi-
1 See the representation of this matter by
a Donatist, in the collection of Du Pin,
above referred to, f. 155 et 156. The fanat-
ical, fact-perverting hatred of the Dona-
tists, the language of unbridled passion,
which is not to be mistaken even in this
representation itself, inspire the reader with
but little hope of finding here any historical
truth. Thus among other things it is said:
Et cxedebantur a Cexciliano passim. qui ad
alendos martyres veniebant, sitientibus in-
tus in vinculis confessoribus, pocula fran-
gebantur ante carceris limina, cibi passim
lacerandi canibus spargebantur, jacebant
ante carceris fores martyrum patres matres-
que sanctissime, et ab extremo conspectu
liberorum excussi, graves nocte dieque
vigilias ad ostium carceris exercebant. Erat
fletus horribilis, et acerba omnium, qui ad-
erant, lamentatio. prohibere pios martyrum
complexus et divelli a pietatis officio Chris-
tianos, Ceciliano szeviente tyranno et cru-
deli carnitice.
2 Aucustin. breviculus collat. cum Dona-
tistis. ἃ. III. c. 13, ὁ 25. Monumenta in
Du Pin 1. e. f. 174.
3 See above, the disputes concerning bap-
tism by heretics, vol. I. sect. 2.
CHARGE AGAINST SECUNDUS. 185
dent opened the meeting by declaring that they ought first to examine
themselves, and make sure that there was no traditor among them,
(since a person of this description, excluded by the fact itself from the
communion of the church, was unfit for the performance of any sacra-
mental act.) Several among the existing bishops were accused by
rumor ; several could excuse themselves on the ground of having given
up other writings (e.g. on medicine) instead of the Bible; one, who
plainly had no such excuse to offer, but, though he had surrendered a
copy of the Bible, yet remained steadfast in the confession of the faith,
said to the bishop Secundus: ‘* You know how long Florus (the police-
officer) persecuted me, to induce me to scatter incense, and God deliy-
ered me from his hands, my brother ; but since God has forgiven me,
do you also leave me to the judgment of God.” Hereupon Secundus,
in a way characteristic of his fanatic, spiritual pride, exclaimed : ‘¢ What
are we to do, then, with the martyrs? Because they did not give up
their Bibles, was the very reason for which they have been crowned.”
The accused said: ‘ Leave me till I appear before the judgment-seat
of God; there I will render my account.” A certain bishop, Purpu-
rius, of irascible temperament, — against whom a far weightier charge
was pending, which doubtless required to be more carefully looked
into, — instead of speaking in his own defence, cast suspicion on Se-
cundus himself: ‘How could it be believed that when he had
been seized, and had declared that he possessed copies of the Bible,
and yet did not deliver them up, the officers of police would quietly
receive such a declaration, and allow him to go free, while so many
others who had declined to surrender their Bibles, were compelled to
suffer severe tortures and death Ὁ Since, however, the conduct of the
pagan authorities varied so much according to thtir different tempers :
and since so many particular circumstances might procure for one a
better lot than fell to the others, this conclusion, which was intended to
bring suspicion on Secundus, was at least a very unsafe one. Another
Secundus among the assembled bishops, nephew of the one first men-
tioned, begged the latter to consider what danger threatened the peace
of the church, if men should be disposed to push the matter further.
All the accused would in the end unite against him ; and consequently
a schism was inevitable. Therefore it was finally resolved, for the pres-
ervation of the quiet of the church, to leave all that was past to the judg-
ment of God.t
ever. One reason was the definite state-
1 See the transactions of this assembly in
ment of the date and of the consuls, which
Augustin. contra Cresconium, 1. IIIc. 17,
§ 30, and the monumenta in Du Pin, f. 175.
The Donatists declared, it is true, at the
religious conference in Carthage, A.D. 411,
that these documents were interpolated,
(vid. Augustin. brevicul. collat. ἃ. III. ο. 17,
and 1. ο. Du Pin, fol. 321;) but their asser-
tions can be regarded no otherwise than as
very suspicious, as they were inclined to
deny everything that conflicted with the in-
terests of their party; and the reasons al-
leged by them against the genuineness of
these writings have no decisive weight what-
VOL. 11. id
common practice in civil transactions was
contrary to the ecclesiastical custom. With-
out doubt this was censured too by Athana-
sius, as an unchurchlike thing, in the Sir-
mian formulas of faith; yet it was in the
instance where he censured it, an entirely
different affair,—it related there to a de-
termination of doctrines, which could not
be so bound to a particular time ; but here,
on the other hand, it related to a judicial
investigation, and an external act of the
church, where dates were of more impor
186 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
We have brought together these characteristic traits out of the times
that preceded the Donatist schism, because it is in the excitement of
temper which here betrays itself, and in the hostile relations betwixt
the prudent party of Mensurius of Carthage, and the opposite fanatical
_ party of the Numidian bishops, we must look for the original causes of
this schism.
The bishop Mensurius died soon after the Dioclesian persecution was
ended, in the year 311, by the edict of Galerius. Having been called
on some special business to appear before the emperor Maxentius at
Rome, he died on the way when he was returning home. It was fre-
quently the case, on the demise of a bishop, that his archdeacon was
chosen to fill the vacancy; because, having possessed the confidence
and been often vested with the full powers of the bishop, he had already
acquired the greatest influence in the church. But masmuch as the
archdeacon was inferior in rank to the presbyters, this practice would
easily become an occasion of jealousies and divisions. Ceecilian had
particularly against him that party in the Carthaginian community and
in the Numidian church who disputed the principles of Mensurius. At
the head of his enemies in Carthage stood a bigoted widow by the
name of Lucilla, a person of wealth, and, by means of her wealth, of
power. This individual attached great importance to certain fragments
of human bones which she had obtained from some quarter or other,
and which she gave out to be relics. ‘These pretended relics she was
in the habit of kissing every mornmg previously to partaking, as was
customary in this country,! of the consecrated bread.2. She usually
took them along with her also to the early morning service, and here too
kissed her relics previously to partaking of the communion. The arch-
deacon, whose duty it was to look after the order of the church, repri-
manded her for this superstitious custom, and threatened her, in case
she did not desist from it, with ecclesiastical censures. It was undon.it-
edly necessary that some check should be given to the spreading super-
tance. At all events, enough has not been of such an assembly, even under these cir-
left us of the older synodal transactions to
render it possible to decide, whether this
was really so unprecedented. The other
party could, however, adduce an example
of the contrary. To the Donatists, who
pushed their opposition to the confounding
of ecclesiastical and political matters to the
extreme of fanaticism, such a determinate
date was in itself a hateful thing, because it
looked like such confusion. It is worthy of
remark, that they even required an exam-
ple of such an ecclesiastical determination
of date from the Holy Scriptures, — a proof
of the very narrow character of their criti-
cism. The second reason was, that at the
time of the persecution no such assembly
could have been held. This reason, Mar-
cellinus, the president of the religious con-
ference, w'10 rejected the first as amounting
to nothing, declared to be more weighty.
But the bishops of the other party could
easily cite examples out of the history of
the persecutions, by which the possibility
cumstances, might be proved.
1 See vol. I. sect. 2, respecting the daily
communion in the church of North Africa.
2 See Optatus Milevit. de schismate Don-
atistar. 1. I.c. 16. In this place it is said:
ante spiritalem cibum et potum; which
cannot refer to the domestic communion
alone, for in this the second had no place.
Probably Lucilla observed the same cus-
tom in the church communion which she
had been in the practice of at home, and
thus her superstitious observances became
known to Cecilian. The opinion of Au-
bespin, (Albaspineus,) that she had been
led by the custom of the: mutual kiss of
brotherly love preceding the communion, to
transfer this form to her relics, for the pur-
pose of maintaining thereby the commu-
nion with her patron saint, is not sufficiently
well-grounded, since the practice of kissing
relics, especially with females, existed else-
where also.
CACILIAN ORDAINED BISHOP OF CARTHAGE. 187
stition with regard to relics, and perhaps Ceecilian found it particularly
offensive that she seemed to attribute a higher sanctifying power to her
relics than to the sacrament of the supper.1_ Many indications go to
show that the Numidian bishops anticipated the choice of Ceecilian, and
immediately after Mensurius’ death endeavored to secure for themselves
a party in the community, and to oppose this party to Cecilian. Do-
natus, bishop of Casze Nigrze in Numidia, is said to have been busy even
at this early stage.2 Secundus of Tigisis, primate of Numidia, the
zealous antagonist of the Czcilian party, sent certain ecclesiastics to
Carthage, who held separate assemblies in the house of Lucilla, and
placed a provisionary superintendent, under the customary title of
Visitor, (περιοδευτῆς,.) over the entire affairs of the church.2 The
more resistance the party of Cexcilian had to fear against his choice,
the more urgent reason had they for hastening the whole thing to a con-
clusion. But, without doubt, it was difficult here to hit upon the right
course for preserving unanimity and quiet; for if they waited until the
arrival of the Numidian provincial bishops, who were in the practice of
assisting at the ordination of the bishop of Carthage, it was to be fore-
seen that these would oppose the election. Should the ordination be
completed before their arrival, new cause would be given them for dis-
satisfaction and complaint ; but still they could not pronounce the epis-
copal consecration, after it had once been solemnized, null and void ;
since, although the Numidian provincial bishops might often be invited
to assist on these occasions, yet nothing had been expressly settled on
this point in the ecclesiastical laws. The election and ordination were
therefore hastened to a completion, and the latter office was performed
by a neighboring bishop, Felix of Aptungis.> Against the new bishop,
the powerful Lucilla, with her party, now took her stand ; and to this
party belonged the elders of the Carthaginian church.®
1 Optatus: cum preeponeret calici salutari
os, ete. — although the praponeret may be
referred also simply to time.
2 By the investigations of the tribunal
which sat subsequently at Rome, under the
Roman bishop Melchiades, it is said to have
been proved: Donatum a Casis Nigris adhuc
diacono Ceciliano schisma fecisse Cartha-
gine. See Augustin. breviculus, 1. c. apud
Du Pin, f. 319.
8 Thus says Augustin, Sermo 46, ὁ 39,
T. V. ed. Benedict. Paris, f. 146, D. The
assertion of Augustin, a violent opponent
of the Donatists, is testimony, indeed,
which cannot be wholly relied on. Yet the
thing is, in itself, not improbable; and all
these preceding circumstances place the
i of the Donatist schism in a clearer
ight.
4The opponents of the Donatist party,
at the religious conference in Carthage,
affirmed that it was by no means a common
custom for the bishop of Carthage to be
ordained by a Numidian Metropolitan
bishon, cum aliud habeat ecclesiz Catholic
consuetudo, ut non Numidiz, sed propin-
quiores episcopi episcopum ecclesiz Cartha-
ginis ordinent, sicut nec Romane ecclesiz
ordinat aliquis episcopus metropolitanus ;
sed de proximo Ostiensis episcopus. Aug-
ustin, breviculus ἃ. III. in Du Pin monu-
menta, f. 321. According to Optatus, I. 18,
there were two individuals, Botrus and
Celestius, probably presbyters in the Car-
thaginian church, who hastened the election
in hopes that the choice might fall on one
of themselves. The fact that so many
reasons were hunted up from one quarter
and another to invalidate that objection of
the Donatist party, renders it probable, that
the ordination of the bishop of Carthage
was, according to the more common practice,
solemnized in the presence and with the co-
operation of the Numidian bishops. Optatus,
however, introduces that remark of his only
as a report (dicitur.) Perhaps the truth at
bottom was simply this, that those two pres-
byters aspired after the episcopal dignity,
and, having been disappointed, were for this
reason led to foster the division. ,
5 The name of this town is written various-
ly: Aptugnensis, Aptungitanus, Autumni-
tanus. ξ
6 The seniores plebis, according to the
188 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
The primate of Numidia came afterwards, with his bishops, to Car-
thage, either without being sent for, or, as the other party alleged, at
the invitation of Lucilla and those connected with her. They met from
the latter with a very friendly reception ; and they manifested, from the
first, hostile feelings towards Cecilian, whom they refused to acknowl-
edge as a bishop. Czcilian now challenged his adversaries to produce
their charges, if they had any against him: but they began by accus- .
ing as a traditor the bishop who had ordained him ; and, in conformity
with that old principle of the North-African church, they refused to
recognize as valid an ordination which had been performed by a tradi-
tor. Czxcilian went still farther: he offered to resign his office, and
return to his former post as a deacon, so that he could be ordained anew
by the Numidian bishops.1. But the latter were too far committed
against him to enter into any such compromise. They now proceeded
to accuse Cecilian himself ; and, as they did not acknowledge him to be
a regular bishop, they chose in his stead the reader Majorianus, a favo-
rite of Lucilla. An assembly of seventy Numidian bishops at Carthage
excommunicated Ceecilian, because he had allowed himself to be
ordained by a traditor.2 The fanaticism which prevailed already at
this assembly is characteristically shown by the following expression of
one of its members: ‘‘ As unfruitful weeds are mown down and cast
away, so the thurificati and traditores,® and those who are schismatical-
ly ordained by traditors, cannot remain in the church of God, except
they acknowledge their error, and become reconciled with the church
by the tears of repentance.” 4
Thus was laid the foundation of the schism in the North-African
church. According to the usual. mode of proceeding in such cases,
each of the two parties now endeavored to secure for itself the recogni-
tion of other churches ; and thus the breach would necessarily be ex-
tended. The emperor Constantine, who just at the present juncture
had obtained the sovereignty over this part of the Roman empire, must
have been prejudiced from the beginning against the party of Majori-
nus; for, in the very first laws by which he bestowed various privileges
on the Catholic church in this quarter of the world, he expressly ex-
system of organization which prevailed in
the North-African church (see vol. I. § 1).
The adversaries of the Donatists explain
this as follows: When the bishop Men-
surius, uncertain as to the issue of his busi-
ness, left Carthage, he entrusted the precious
movables of the church to the care of these
elders, with the charge to deliver them over,
in case he died before his return, to his suc-
cessor in the bishopric. But, as_ these
seniores wished to retain the whole in their
own possession, it grieved them to be obliged
to deliver them over into the hands of Cz-
cilian, and this was the cause of their enmity
to him. Optatus, I. 19: Qui faucibus avar-
itize commendatam ebiberant predam. Cum
reddere cogerentur, subduxerunt communio-
ni pedem. But how was this known to be the
fact? For these persons certainly could not
decline giving up what had been entrusted
to them; and, at all events, must have been
obliged -to give up the whole to the new
bishop, whoever he might be. It is quite
evident. that, as. often happens in similar
cases, such motives. the existence of which
could not possibly be proved, were falsely
imputed to these persons,—after they be-
came hated as the promoters of Donatism.
1 Optat. I. 19, Cvecilian would hardly
have been induced to consent to this, had he
not at that time conceded the principle, that
an ordination performed by a traditor was
invalid.
2 Augustin. breviculus ἃ. III. ο. 14, § 26.
3 See vol. I. § 1.
* Liber c. Fulgentium Donatistam, c. 0S
Du Pin monumenta, p. 176.
—_—
COUNCIL AT ARLES. 189
cluded the other party from all share in them, and declared himself de-
cidedly opposed to it; although this proceeding was in direct contradic-
tion to those principles of universal toleration which Constantine had
avowed in the laws enacted about the same time. The fanaticism which
we find prevailing in this party at its very origin, may doubtless have
furnished occasion enough for representing it to the emperor as com-
posed of dangerous men, without his knowing anything more about the
character of these disputes.1_ The party of Majorinus, which saw itself
condemned without a hearing, presented to the emperor, then residing
in Gaul, a petition, entreating him, by his love of justice, to name
judges in that country itself for the purpose of inquirmg into the na-
ture cf the controversy which had arisen in the North-African church.”
They probably chose to have their judges from Gaul, because these
would be least liable to suspicion; inasmuch as this country had escaped
the last persecutions of the Christian church, and therefore no traditors
were to be found there as in the other churches. The emperor there-
upon directed that Melchiades, (Miltiades,) bishop of Rome, with five
other Gallic bishops, should inquire into the affair ; that Czecilian should
appear before them, with ten bishops who were to present the charges
against him, and ten other bishops who were to defend him. ‘The trial
was holden in the year 313; and Melchiades came attended with
fifteen other Italian bishops. The bishop Donatus of Casze Nigrze in
Numidia, with whom, as we remarked above, the germ of the schism
began, now also stood at the head of Cecilian’s accusers; as indeed
he seems generally to have been at that time the soul of the whole
party. His charges against the latter were found to be unsustained ;
but he himself was declared guilty of various acts contrary to the laws
of the church. The party of Majorinus having declared, as was to be
expected, that injustice had been done them by this decision, Constan-
tine directed, in the year 314, that the charges against the ordainer of
Ceecilian, the above-named bishop Felix, should be examined according
to the usual judicial form at Carthage, where access could be had to
all the records and witnesses that might be needed in the trial; and
that an ecclesiastical convention at Arles should hear delegates from
the two parties, and so enter into a new investigation of the whole mat-
ter. The result of the first inquiry was, that Felix was declared inno-
cent. The council of Arles decided likewise against the party of Ma-
jorinus, and established at the same time three canons which in part
were opposed to the conduct of this party, and partly were designed to
prevent the occurrence of similar divisions for the future. As the charge
of denying the faith in the Dioclesian persecution had been one of the
principal occasions which led to this schism, and such accusations, re-
peated over merely on the ground of vague report, might often result
in similar consequences, it was decided in the thirteenth canon that
those only who could be convicted by public documents of having deliv-
ered up copies of the holy scriptures or property of the church,
1 In a rescript, issued in the beginning of μὴ καϑεστώσης διανοίας ἄνϑρωποι ; mention
the vear 313, addressed to Ceecilianus, bishop 15 made of their μανία.
of Carthage, and cited in Eusebius, X. 6, 2 The petition is to be found in Optatus, 1,
the adherents of the other party are styled § 22.
190 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
or of having informed against other Christians before the tribunals,
should be deposed from their spiritual offices. No other accusation
but those which could be thus substantiated, should be received. As,
moreover, the party of Majorinus held fast to the ancient prin-
ciple of the North-African church, that the validity of a sacramental
act depended on the fact that the performer of it was a mem-
ber of the Catholic church, it was established as a rule, in reference Ὁ
to ordination, that, although this ceremony had been performed by a
person who could be legally convicted of those transgressions, it should
still remain valid in case nothing else was to be objected against it. The
same principle of the objectivity of sacramental acts was, moreover, in
the eighth canon, so defined — probably with reference to the proceed-
ings of the North-African schismatics — that baptism was always to be
considered valid if it had been performed in the name of the Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost.! For the rest, it may well be inferred from the
passionate tone of the report drawn up by this council and sent to the
Roman bishop Silvester, that the spirit which prevailed im it was not
calculated to dispose the other party for peace. The party of Majori-
nus appealed from this decision to the judgment of the emperor him-
self. We have observed before, how very strange it then’appeared to
Constantine, that an appeal should be made from an episcopal decision
on ecclesiastical matters to his own tribunal. In his reply to the bish-
ops, he manifests his displeasure against the party of Majorinus by
the most violent expressions. Yet he accepted the appeal, and lis-
tened himself to the delegates of the two parties at Milan, in the year
316; his decision also went in favor of Cecilian. From this time the
whole matter took another turn ; laws of the state now appeared against
the party of Majorinus ; they were deprived of their churches, and the
places where they assembled were confiscated. They were treated as
transgressors of the imperial laws. The force by which it was sought
to destroy them, proved, as usually happens, only the means of giving
them a new impulse, and pushed the spirit of enthusiasm, already ex-
isting among them in the bud, into full development. Majorinus, in-
deed, died in the year 315; but with him the schism, which had struck
deeper root, by no means ceased. Besides, he had rather served to.
give an outward name to the party, than really constituted the head
and soul of 10. The latter had till now been Donatus, bishop of Casze
Nigr in Numidia, who stood in the same relation to Majorinus as,
under similar circumstances, Novatus had done to Novatian at the be-
ginning of the Novatian schism. But Donatus, the successor of Majo-
rinus, was himself the head and soul of the sect. And he was well
suited to stand at the head of a party, being a man of fiery, untutored
eloquence, of great firmness of principle, and of great energy of ac-
tion. The excessive admiration of his party converted him into a
1 According to one reading, this canon for the expression of any such opposition to
would be pointed, not against these North the Arians 4
Africans, but against the Arians. But the 2 See this letter in Du Pin acta, f. 184.
other is most probably the original reading. 8 Aug. ep. 88, ὁ 38, Contra lit. Petiliani,
What possible occasion could there be, at c¢. 92, § 205.
that time, especially in the Western church,
’
PARS DONATI. DONATUS MAGNUS. 191
worker of miracles, and gave him the title of the Great.1. From him,
too, they received their name, the Donatists ; and by this name we shall
henceforth call them.”
The Donatists, in their public declarations, must, of course, apply to
themselves some appropriate title in order to distinguish their own sect
from the party of their opponents, and from the dominant church in
North Africa. They therefore called themselves by a name wholly
inoffensive in itself, the ‘‘ pars Donati,” as the most convenient way of
making themselves known in their relation to another determinate hu-
man party. This other party, it is true, following the unjustifiable
practice of imputing mferences of their own as facts against their adver-
saries, argued from this party name that they were for being some-
thing else than the church of Christ and the Catholic church; that they
thus set themselves off as a mere human party ; just as in after times a
similar license of imputation was often indulged in by the church domt-
nant against church parties which had seceded from it. The Donatists
by no means admitted the thing which was assumed in these accusa-
tions; they declared that they called themselves after the name of Do-
natus, not as the founder of a new church, but as one of the bishops of
the ancient church derived from Christ.? And not without reason
could they say that they might rightly call their adversaries, precisely
alter the same manner, Mensurists and Ceecilianists.4
1 Jt went to such a pass that they were in
the habit of swearing per canos Donati.
August. Enarrat. in Ps. X. § 5.
2 One might be doubtful, whether the
names pars Donati, Donatiste, Donatiani,
were derived originally from Donatus a Casis
Nigris, or from Donatus Magnus. The ex-
planation given by Donatists themselves
points, it is true, quite distinctly, to the lat-
ter derivation (see the words of Petilianus,
bishop of Cirta in Numidia, which will pre-
sently be quoted, collat. c. Donatist. fol. 296,
§ 32). But it may be that although this
name was taken originally from Donatus a
Casis Nigris, yet this person was afterwards
forgotten among his party, in consequence
of the far greater influence of the second
Donatus. The title pars Donati actually
occurs already in the petition of the Dona-
tist party addressed to the emperor Con-
stantine, in the year 313, (in Optatus, 1. I.
§ 22;) and, if this citation is perfectly correct,
no further doubt could exist about the cor-
rectness of the derivation of the name from
Donatus a Casis Nigris. But it is certain
that Optatus does not give us the original
title of this petition, but has modified it by
the name which the Donatist party then
bore. The original title we find rather in
the relatio Anulini proconsnlis Africa, where
it is said, libellus traditur a parte Majorini.
Thus the party was styled, till the time when
the name of Majorinus became wholly
eclipsed by that of Donatus Magnus. Yet
there is one other possible supposition, —
that Donatus a Casis Nigris and Donatus
The name Dona-
Magnus were one and the same individual ;
that the former, on account of having so
greatly distinguished himself by his activity
in behalf of the interests of his party, had,
after the death of Majorinus, obtained the
first bishopric of.his party. In favor of this
would be the fact, that Optatus of Mileve
seems to have knowledge of only one Do-
natus; but against it is the fact, that the
Donatists expressly distinguished one of
these two Donatuses from the other, (see
Augustin. breviculus collat. ce. Donatistis
d. WI. Du Pin, ἢ. 323, c. 20;) and, more-
over, the Catholic bishops recognized, at the
religious conference in Carthage, this dis-
tinction as a correct one; and Augustin —
who at an earlier period, as he says in his
Retractions, had confounded together the
two Donati — expressly distinguishes them,
e. Cresconium Donatistam, ]. 11. ὁ 2. Again:
the translation of bishops, forbidden by the
laws of the church, was by no means so
common in the Western church as it was in
the Fastern; and, had Donatus M. incurred
the charge of an act so contrary to the laws
of the church, his adversaries could hardly
have failed to make use of such an advan-
tage against him.
3 The words of the Donatist Cresconius
are: Quod Donatus non auctor et institutor
ecclesix, que antea non fuerat, sed a Christo
deductx et antique unus ex episcopis fuerit.
In Angustin. c. Cresconius Donatistam,
LebVe§ 1.
4 The words of the Donatist bishop Peti
lianus at the conference in Carthage: Ego
192 THE DONATIST SCHISM. THE CIRCUMCELLIONES.
tists, which was applied to them by their opponents, may, in its intended
meaning, perhaps, have implied, from the beginning, something that was
offensive: they themselves would never acknowledge it.1
Ursacius, a count of the empire, had been directed to carry the laws
against the Donatists into effect; and a person of this description, ac-
customed to military despotism, was certainly not calculated to proceed
in an affair of this kind with that spirit of kindness and forbearance, -
without which the enthusiastic spirit, already in existence, might easily
be fanned into a fiercer flame. The forcible measures to which Ursa-
cius resorted,? for the purpose of compelling the Donatists to unite with
the dominant church, produced the most violent ferment of spirits.
There existed in North Africa a band of fanatical ascetics, who, despis-
ing all labor, wandered about the country among the huts of the peas-
ants, (whence they were called by their adversaries cirewmeelliones, )
and supported themselves by begging. They styled themselves the
Christian champions, agonistict. These people could easily be excited
to any species of fanaticism: while the Pagans were still in power, par-
ties of these circumcelliones had often, to no useful purpose, demolished
the idols on their estates, and thus exposed themselves — which was in
fact their object—to martyrdom.? It is no more than natural that
these persons, stimulated perhaps by the discourses of their bishops,
and roused by the persecutions against the Donatist party, should be
easily hurried on to every species of fanaticism and violence.
The emperor Constantine was perhaps cool and prudent enough to
have learned, from what had fallen under his own sad experience, the
disastrous consequences of persecutions ; or he may have been guided
by the counsels of some one of the wiser bishops. For, as early as the
year 317, he sent a rescript to the North-African bishops and commu-
nities, in which he exhorted them to forbear retaliating with wrong the
wrong which they suffered from the Circumeellions. They ought not,
with foolish hands, to intermeddle with the vengeance which God had
reserved to himself; especially in a case where what they suffered
from the rage of such men would, in the sight of God, be equivalent to
martyrdom. If they adhered to this principle, they would soon see the
fanaticism perish of its own accord. When now the Donatists, in addi-
eos dicere possum, immo palum aperteque
desieno Mensuristas et Ceecilianistas, 1. c.
f, 296, N. 30.
1 The Donatist grammarian Cresconius
affirmed that, according to the Latin gram-
matical use, they ought at least to be called,
not Donatistz, but Donatiani, |. 11. 6.1, ὁ 2.
2 The Donatists were persuaded that the
death of this man, who was killed sometime
afterwards in an affray with the barbarians,
was a divine judgment in punishment for
his crimes. But the logic of fanaticism, as
usual, argued from one or two cases to all,
and hence the Donatist bishop Petilianus
said : Periit Macarius, periit Ursacius, cunc-
tique comites vestri Dei pariter vindicta
perierunt. Augustin. c. literas Petiliani,
1. 11. § 208.
8 That it was by their opponents alone
these people were called circumcelliones, while
they gave themselves the name of agonastici,
is clear from Augustin. enarrat. in w. 132,
§ 6. They sprang froin the ancient ascetics,
and hence were opposed to the more recent
monasticism. Augustin describes them as
follows : Genus hominum, ab wtilibus operibus
otiosum, crudelissimum in mortibus alienis,
vilissimum in suis (fanatical contempt of
life) maxime in agris territans, ab agris vacans,
et victus-sui causa cellas circumiens rusticorum,
unde et circwmcelliones nomen accepit. Cc
Gaudentium Donatistam, 1. I. § 32.
4 See Constantine’s rescript in the monu-
menta. Du Pin, f. 138.
POLICY OF CONSTANTINE. OF CONSTANS. 193
— tion to what they had done already, transmitted to the emperor, in the
year 321, a petition, in which they declared that nothing would induce
them to enter into church fellowship with that scoundrel, his bishop ;} that
they would rather suffer everything he might choose to inflict on them ;?
Constantine became convinced, doubtless, still more than ever, by the
tone of this document, of the dangerous consequences which must follow,
if violent measures for the restoration of the peace of the church were
pursued any farther. Experience led him to act according to the prin-
ciples which, in obedience to the voice of reason and the spirit of Chris-
tianity, he ought to have pursued from the beginning. In a rescript
addressed to the Vicar Verinus in North Africa,? he granted to the
Donatists full liberty to act according to their own convictions, declar-
ing that this was a matter which belonged to the judgment of God.4
To these principles Constantine remained firm to the end. When
the Circumcellions, with force of arms, demolished a church which he
had caused to be erected for the Catholics in the town of Constantina,
the emperor ordered it to be rebuilt at his own expense, and demanded
no indemnification of the Donatists.° If men had only remained true
to these doctrines of toleration, and simply punished the acts of violence
committed on both sides, according to the laws; had the emperor al-
ways spoken and acted on this principle of the Christian politician,
(which consists precisely in acknowledging the just limits of all civil
power, ) a principle which is capable of exhibiting itself in the province
of religion only on the negative side; the North-African church doubt-
less would not have been exposed to any of those disorders which subse-
quently ensued, although the Donatists might have long subsisted as a
distinct party m the church. But disastrous was, the result whenever
an emperor was disposed to pursue any other than a negative course in
relation to religious disputes.
The Western emperor, Constans, to whom North Africa fell after the
death of his father, was not at first inclined to resort to any forcible
measures for uniting the Donatists once more to the dominant church.
He simply employed those means which were then frequently resorted
to on the part of the court for the purpose of making proselytes.6 He
directed his two commissaries, Ursacius and Leontius, in the year 340,
to endeavor, by the distribution of money under the name of alms, to
win over the Donatist churches.’ As the emperor Constans issued at
1 Nullo modo se communicaturos antistiti
ipsius nebuloni.
2 In Augustin. breviculus collationigdiei
IIL. c. 21, n..39.
8 Epistola Constantini, qua libertatem
agendi tribuit Donatistis. Index Collationis
III. cap. 549.
* In expressions, it must be allowed, which
were wounding to the Donatists, since he
does not avoid such terms as eorum furor.
5 The rescript in Du Pin, 189, composed,
it must be admitted, in too theological a
style for an emperor.
® See above, in the cases of Constantine
and Julian.
at
VOL. II.
7 Optatus represents this as having been
done jirst by Macarius. He mentions, in-
deed, the preceding persecutions by Leon-
tius, Ursacius, and Gregorius. But, as he
gives no precise dates, it is nevertheless quite
possible that the whole ought to be referred
to the first persecution under the emperor
Constantine ; and consequently the persecu-
tion under the emperor Constans would
have first commenced after the death of the
bishop Cecilian of Carthage, and under
the new bishop Gratus. But the discourse
(sermo) in memory of the two martyrs,
Donatus et Advocatus, first published by
Du Pin in the collection of monumenta, (1. ο.
194 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
the same time an edict whereby he called upon the North-African
Christians to return back to the unity of the church which Christ loved,!
it was the less possible that the object of these measures should remain
concealed from the Donatist’ bishops. “This covert attack served only
to exasperate them: they excited their communities to the most deter-
mined resistance. More forcible measures soon succeeded;—the Do-
natists were to be deprived of their churches ; — they were fallen upon
by armed troops while assembled for the worship of God. Such acts
could not be committed without the effusion of blood ; those that fell
victims to the persecution were honored by their party as martyrs ; 2
and the annual celebration of the days of their death furnished new
means for enkindling the enthusiasm of the Donatist party.
The second attempt was made by a count of the empire, named Gregorius.
The bishop Donatus wrote to him in a wild, insurrectionary spirit,> with
abusive language little becoming the character of a bishop. But the most
furious persecution began in the year 347. The imperial commissaries,
Paul and Macarius, traversed, in the first place, the whole of Northern
Africa, distributed money to the poor in the name of the emperor, pre-
sented costly church utensils to individual communities, and, at the same
fol. 190,) represents the persecution as hav-
ing begun already, under Leontius and Ur-
sacius, in the attempt to win over the
Donatist churches by means of the distri-
bution of money. It is here said (ὁ. 3:)
“ Mittit (viz. diabolus, salutis inimicus) pe-
cunias, quibus vel fidem caperet, vel pro-
fessione legis occasionem faceret avaritize
(foster avarice under the pretext, that no-
thing more was intended than a profession
of divine truth, — the professio being in this
case nothing more nor less than a means of
receiving money from the emperor).” But
this hardly agrees with the first beginning
of the persecution under the emperor Con-
stantine; for then the Donatists were at-
tacked at once with severe measures as vi0-
lators of the imperial decree. The question
now arises, whether we ought rather to fol-
low the representation of the case in the
sermo, or that of Optatus; or whether we
should seek to unite them both together.
In the first case, it might be assumed that
everything said by Optatus, relative to the
distribution of money and the measures
taken by Donatus against it, should be
transferred to an earlier time than that
which he assigns, — namely to the first part
of the reign of Constans; that what he
relates of Macarius should be ascribed to
Leontius and Ursacius; and that in place
of the bishop Gratus of Carthage should be
substituted his predecessor Cecilian. Thus
Optatus must have wholly confounded the
times, — as indeed he is not remarkably
exact in such matters. At the same time,
however, we cannot be certain that we are
justified in attributing to the unknown
author of the “ Discourse,” although it is
highly probable that he did not live at a
period far remote from the time of these
events, so much higher authority as an
historical witness. It may furthermore be
supposed, on the other side, that the author
of the “ Discourse” might himself have
confounded times and names ; and that thus
the persecution under the emperor Constans
began first with Macarius, in the year 347.
But still it is not probable that the bishops
of the Catholic party would have quietly
observed, for so long a time, the toleration
with which the Donatists were treated, with-
out making any attempt to draw from the
emperor Constans some new measures for
the suppression of the schism. The reports
of the “ Discourse” and of Optatus may
perhaps be reconciled by supposing that
three separate attempts were made in the
reign of Constans,—the first by Leontius
and Ursacius, the second’ by Gregorius, and
the last by Macarius. In the case of the
first and of the second of these attempts,
the beginning may have been made by the
distribution of money. It cannot assured-
ly be affirmed to be improbable, that Con-
stans would have resorted twice in succes-
sion to the same means with such unhappy
results; since we are but too well aware,
how slow the Byzantine emperors were to
grow wise by experience.
1 Christus amator unitatis est, unitas igi-
tur fiat. l.c. Passio Donati et Advocati,
‘ec yah ;
2 Thus it was with Honoratus, bishop of
Siciliba, whose life is related in the tract
above referred to.
3 Gregori, macula senatus et dedecus pre-
fectorum; words quoted by Optatus, 1. 111.
ο. 3.
FANATICISM OF THE CIRCUMCELLIONES. 195
᾿ time, exhorted all to offer no resistance to the unity of the church. In
this connection, the object of these presents was perfectly clear to every
one. The bishop Donatus of Carthage repelled the advances of the
imperial officer with the remark: “‘ What has the emperor to do with
the church?! He sent admonitions to all the Donatist churches,
charging them to receive none of the money. Judging from the char-
acter of Donatus, it may well be presumed that he betrayed a great
want of Christian reflection and prudence — qualities most needful at
this time to prevent the worst excesses of fanaticism, when parties of
enthusiastic Circumcellions were wandering about through the country.
The principle expressed in those words of Donatus, that church and
state should be kept wholly distinct from each other, had at that time,
through the reaction which began to manifest itself against the domi-
nant church party, become universally recognized among the Donatists.
In their sermons, the Donatist bishops spoke of the corruption of the
church, which had originated in the confusion of the church and the
state. ‘¢ The evil spirit, before openly combated in the church,”’ said
they, ‘‘ was now a still more dangerous enemy in its covert attacks,
since it made a pretext of religion itself, and strove to insinuate itself
into men’s heart by flattery.2_ Those whom it seduced to apostacy,
(the traditors,) and who, by humbling themselves, might have been able
to regain the divine favor, it now endeavored to make secure, by flatter-
ing them that they could still be Christians, and, in truth, bishops, and
by tempting their ambition and their avarice with the favor of princes
and worldly gifts.” What impression must these and the like discourses
have produced on the minds of the Circumcellions, inclined already to
every fanatical extravagance! Accustomed to trace all corruption
among the Christians to the influence of earthly power and grandeur,
and to the abundance of worldly goods, this ruling idea mounted with
them to a fanatical spirit, that breathed hatred against all who possessed
power, rank, or wealth. They roved about the country, pretending to
be the protectors of the oppressed and suffermg — a sacred band who-
were fighting fot the rights of God. Perhaps they rightly perceived
that there was a great deal in the relation between the proprietors and
their oftentimes heavily oppressed boors,* between masters and slaves, that
was at variance with the spirit and doctrines of Christianity. But in the
way in which they were disposed to better the matter, all civil order
must be turned into confusion. They took the part of alk debtors
against their creditors: their chiefs, Fasir and Axid, who styled them-
selves the leaders of the sons of the Holy One,‘ sent threatening letters
to all creditors, in which they were ordered to give up the obligations
of their debtors. Whoever refused to obey was attacked on his own
estate by the furious company, and might congratulate himself if he
could purchase back his life by the remission of the debt. Whenever
1 Quid est imperatori cum ecclesia? Op- 806 which oppressions the bishops by
tat. 1. III. ¢. 3. their intercessiones, and Libanius, frequently
2 Jn the Donatist sermon, quoted in Du _ testify.
Pin, f. 191: Bland deceptionis insidix, | * The phrase: Deo laudes! constituted
que sub obtextu religionis animas fraudu- the watch-word of their fanaticism. Vid.
lenta circumventione subvertunt. Augustin. ec. Petilian. 1. 11. § 146
196 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
they met a master with his slave, they obliged the former to take the
place of the latter. They compelled venerable heads of families to.
perform the most menial services. All slaves who complained of their
masters, whether justly or unjustly, were sure of finding with them
assistance and the means of revenge.! Several of the Donatist bishops,
desirous of clearing their party from the reproach of being the abettors
or advocates of such atrocities, when they found themselves unable to
produce any effect by their representations on the fanatics, are said to.
have besought themselves the interposition of the civil power against
men who refused to be governed and set right by the church;? and this
gave the first oceasion for resorting to force for the purpose of checking
the outrages of the Circumeellions. Now came in those exhortations of
Donatus, and other like-minded bishops, to excite the Circumcellions to
revolt. Their ferocious deeds furnished a welcome pretext for resort-
ing to other persecuting measures. It was determined that the unity
of the church should be forcibly restored ; the Donatists were to be
deprived of their churches, and compelled to worship with the Catho-
lics. It cannot be exactly determined, how much, in all that was done,
proceeded from imperial edicts, and how much from the despotism, the
passion, or the cruelty, of individual commanders. Force continually
excited the fanatic spirit still more; the report spread that the em-
peror’s image was set up after the pagan manner in the churches, and
the worship paid to it which is due only to God. Many Donatist bish-
ops and clergymen, many Circumcellions, fell victims to the persecution.
It is natural to suppose that the reporters of the facts on the Catholic
side would seek to curtail, and those on the other side to exaggerate, the
truth: hence an accurate statement is out of the question. Certain it
is, that many Circumcellions sought only the glory of martyrdom. — Fi-
nally it came to that pass, that they threw themselves from precipices,
cast themselves into the fire, and hired others to kill them.? The most
eminent bishops of the Donatist party, such as Donatus of Carthage,
were exiled ; and thus it was imagined a final check had been given to
the resistance of the Donatists. So much the more violent was the re-
action when a change of political relations took place, and the party
hitherto oppressed thereby recovered once more its freedom. This
came about under the reign of the emperor Julian, in the year 361.
The Donatists, in conformity with their peculiar principles, were quite
satisfied that Christianity should cease, under the pagan ruler, to be the
dominant religion of the state. Their bishops transmitted to him a pe-
tition, in which they besought a ruler who regarded only justice, to re-
scind the unjust decrees that had been issued against them. There
could be no difficulty in obtaining a favorable answer, since the petition
perfectly agreed with the principles of this emperor, (see Section I. p.
02.) He therefore issued an edict by which everything which under
the preceding reign had been unlawfully undertaken against them, was
to be annulled. As they were now reinstated in possession of the
1 See, among others, Augustin. ep. 185, pears to have taken place before the attempt
ad. Boniface. § 18. of Macarius to restore union.
2 According to Optatus, III., 4; this ap- 3 Vid. Optat. III. 4 and 12,
AUGUSTIN AGAINST THE DONATISTS. 197
churches which had been taken from them, their separatist fanaticism
displayed itself in the wildest freaks. They regarded those churches,
and the church furniture, as having been stained and polluted by the
use which the profane had made of them while they were in their pos-
session ; they dashed the utensils of the church to pieces ; they painted
over the walls of the churches ; they polished down the altars, or re-
moved them entirely from the churches.!
Under the succeeding emperors, the situation of the Donatists again
became worse ; and they themselves did the most injury to their cause
by their wild fanaticism. The passionate temper of their bishops natu-
rally led to new divisions among themselves. A Donatist deacon in
Carthage, by the name of Maximian, who had fallen into a quarrel with
Primianus, the Donatist bishop of that city, and who had been excom-
municated by the latter, finding followers, set up a separate party,
which stood in precisely the same relation to the main body of the Do-
natists as the Donatists themselves did to the Catholic church. In this
controversy, the Donatists were driven into many inconsistencies, of which
their adversaries were not slow to take advantage.
The deplorable effects of this long-continued schism on the peace
and prosperity of the African church,” and also, as it must be allowed,
the prevailing conviction that there was no way of salvation out of the
Catholic church, fired the zeal of the North-African bishops to use every
effort in order to heal the division. Particularly deserving of mention
here, as a distinguished theological polemic, is Augustin, a presbyter,
and subsequently a bishop, of Hipporegius in Numidia. His confidence
in the validity of his logical and dogmatic principles made him feel:
perfectly sure, that, if the Donatist bishops could only be induced to en-
ter into a calm investigation of arguments, they might easily be led to
an acknowledgment of their errors.? But, not to mention that a funda-
mental error in the notion entertained on both sides concerning the
church, presented a great difficulty in the way of a mutual understand-
ing between the two parties, the chief obstacle of all, which prevented.
any hearty and permanent union, the prejudices of party spirit and
passion did not admit of being banished from the dispositions of men
by any power of logic ; but, on the contrary, it was far more natural
that disputation would serve only to excite the passions to a fiercer
flame, and to cause the differences to appear still greater on both sides.
It was an excellent plan which Augustin proposed to the aged bishop
1 See Optat. Milevit. II. 25, and 1. VI.
2 The fanatical intolerance went so far,
that when the Donatists were the dominant
party at Hippo, none of them would ven-
ture to bake bread for the Catholics, who
were in the minority. See Augustin. c. lit.
Petiliani. 1. IL § 184.
8 The Donatist Cresconius was not so
much out of the way, when he censured the
confidence of Augustin, who professed to
be able to dispose so easily of a controver-
sy, on which, for so long a time, so many
things had been said on both sides: Hoc
*
VOL. Il. 17
velle finire post tot annos, post judices atque
arbitros, quod apud principes tot disceptan-
tibus litteratis ab utriusque partis episcopis
finiri non potuit. See Augustin. ce. Cresco-
nium Donatistam, |. I. § 4. He ought in-
deed to have learned something from so
long experience ; but the only difficulty on
the part of Augustin was not surely, as
Cresconius complains, an intoleranda arro-
gantia, but the natural confidence of one
who was firmly rooted, with all his habits
of thinking, in a dogmatic system.
198 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
Fortunius, — both of them men distinguished, in their respective par-
ties, for Christian love and moderation, — that each of them, with ten
others, lovers of peace, and agreeing with them in doctrine, should come
together in some villa, where “there was no church of either party, and
where members of both parties dwelt ; that each should prepare himself,
by silent prayer to the God of peace, for the common investigation ii
and that they should agree not to separate till they had come to the.
wished-for union. But where would it have been possible to find ten
such men of both parties, who would be able constantly to maintain,
even in the heat of dispute, that tone of mind which Augustin required ?
Since the Donatists contended as the oppressed party with the dominant
one, they had reasons, not without some foundation, for mistrust with
regard to any proposal coming from that quarter; and, besides this,
they feared and hated the superior logic of Augustin.”
At the general African council held at Carthage A.D. 403, a form
was drawn up, whereby. all the Donatist bishops were to be invited to
choose delegates out of their own body, prepared to discuss the con-
tested points with chosen men from the Catholic party. The forms of
this invitation were conceived, it is true, in the spirit of love; yet it
contained a good deal which was calculated to irritate the minds of
the Donatists. The Catholic bishops could not consent to forget, that
they spoke, in the secure possession of the truth, with men who were in
error, and whose errors it was their business to ‘correct. 3 It was to be
expected that the Donatists would refuse to comply with any such pro-
posal. And when now, in addition to this, Augustin, in the name of
the church, wrote a letter to the Donatist churches,‘ in which he ex-
posed the inconsistencies of their party, and interpreted the conduct of
their bishops in declining the invitation held out to them, as a token of
distrust in the goodness of their cause, the effect could only be to in-
crease their indignation. Hence it happened that the Circumcellions
were stirred up to new fury, and that those ecclesiastics who had taken
a zealous part in the disputation with the Donatists became the special
objects of it. Such occurrences would furnish occasion for new penal
statutes against the Donatist party ; though influential voices already
protested ‘against the practice of applying “to the emperors for the pas-
sage of such laws.
In respect to Augustin, he, at least, who through so many devious
ways and severe struggles had come to the knowledge of the truth in
which he found rest, must doubtless have been, on this very account,
1 See Augustin. ep. 44, A.D. 398.
2 The Donatist Cresconius objects to Au-
gustin, that dialectics “non congruat Chris-
tian veritati,” and that the Donatist teachers
would therefore much sooner avoid than
refute him, as a homo dialecticus, ( c. Cres-
conium. 1. I. ὁ. 16.) In reply to this, Au-
gustin says: Hane artem, quam dialecticam
vocant, que nihil quam consequentia de-
monstrare, seu vera veris seu falsa falsis,
nunquam doctrina Christiano formidat.
He refers to the fact that Paul did not avoid
a disputation with the dialectic Stoics; that
Christ repelled the entrapping questions of
the Pharisees, Matth. 22: 17, with a syllo-
gism: and he says of these latter, “They had
not learned from you to revile; else per-
haps they would have chosen, with more
bitterness, to call him a dialectician, rather
than a Samaritan.”
3 De vestra correctione gaudere cupien-
tes. Cod. canon. eccles. afr. c. 92
4 Ep. 76
COUNCIL AT CARTHAGE. 199
more mildly disposed towards those who, in his opmion, were in error.
He may have learned from his own experience, that errors were not to
be expelled by force; that it required something else besides human
wisdom to guide the development and purification of a human soul.
The more deeply penetrated he was with the truth that grace alone
could truly enlighten and sanctify men, the less would he be inclined to
attempt-producing religious conviction by outward means. In fact, Au-
gustin, before his habits of thinking became fixed, and particularly be-
fore they had attained to a systematic harmony around a single point,
was far from indulging any wish to subject to outward constraint, that
which only can proceed, under the guidance of the Divine Spirit, out
of the free development of the inner man.
In the meeting above alluded to with the Donatist bishop Fortunius,
it came about that the latter, as the Donatists were frequently in the
habit of doing, urged against the Catholic church the violent measures
of which it had been the occasion. Augustin, feeling compelled to say
something in vindication of his party, was so far misled as to appeal to
the example of Elijah, who slew with his own hand tke prophets of
Baal. But when Fortunius replied that a distinction was to be made
in such matters between the times of the Old and of the New Testament,
Augustin acknowledged that he wasright.1. Somewhat later, he pub-
lished a work against the party of Donatus, in the first book of which
he decidedly condemns all the measures which had been employed to
force back the Donatists to the ruling church.? And when, at the
council of the North-African church, held at Carthage A.D. 404,
the question was agitated about requiring the emperor to pass new
penal laws against the Donatists, by which numbers might be the more
easily brought back to the Catholic church, Augustin, with several
others of the younger bishops, declared against it. He said men must
go forward simply with the word of truth, must seek to conquer by ar-
guments, unless, instead of open and avowed heretics, they would have
hypocritical Catholic Christians. Hence the council ought not to be
satisfied with merely providing for the safety of those who, by defend-
ing the cause of the Catholic church, exposed themselves to the fury
of the Circumeellions.2 This opinion was adopted in part by the coun-
cil. It was proposed to the emperor Honorius by the deputies of the
North-African church, that the fixed pecuniary mulct of ten pounds of
gold, which had been laid by his father Theodosius against the clergy
of the heretics, or the owners of those places where they held. their
assemblies for worship, should be assessed only against those Donatist
bishops and clergy, within whose dioceses acts of violence against the
not as yet learned by experience how
1 Ep. 44. Hic revera vidit, quod viden-
much sin the Donatists were bold enough
dum erat, talia tum licnisse justis. He
enim prophetico spiritu auctoritate Dei fa-
ciebant, qui procul dubio novit, cui etiam
prosit occidi.
* This work, contra partem Donati, has
not come down to us; but its tendency has
been thus described by Augustin, in Retrac-
tation. 1. 11. c.5. He says in this place, he
had then so conceived it, because he had
to commit, while they went unpunished,
or how much a severe course of conduct
would contribute to their improvement.
But one wrong can never justify another,
nor the end sanctify the means.
8. Ep. 93, Augustini ad Vincentium, § 17
and epist. 185, ad Bonifacium, § 25.
°
200 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
Catholic clergy should be perpetrated. Yet the attempt is said to have
been made, at the same time, to procure that the law whereby heretics
were excluded from the right of receiving donations and legacies, and
of leaving legacies in their wills, should be expressly extended to the
Donatists, who would not consent to be reckoned among the heretics.}
When, moreover, to the proposal of the North-African council were ad-
ded the complaints of individuals who had been abused by the Circum- |
cellions, there were enacted, in the year 405, against the entire Dona-
tist party, as a heretical one, various laws which were still more severe
than the council itself had required.
The North-African bishops, of whom Augustin was the soul, labored
incessantly to bring about a religious conference with the Donatists,
where they might be brought over to the true faith by the force of argu-
ments. ‘The Donatists, generally, sought every means of avoiding so
useless an experiment. But it so happened, in the year 410, that cer-
tain Donatist bishops who had been summoned before the higher civil
authorities were, by some means or other, perhaps by some objection
which was brogght against them, led to assert for the first time that
they would doubtless be able to prove the truth of their cause, were
they but allowed a patient hearing.2 They were immediately taken at
their word; and the Catholic bishops, urgently renewing their request
that a religious conference might be appointed, appealed to the fact
that the Donatists themselves were ready to acquiesce in that movement.
And the emperor Honorius ordered a religious conference to be held
between the two parties at Carthage, A.D. 411. If the Donatist bish-
ops, after being three times invited, still declined taking any share in
the religious conference, their conduct should be interpreted to signify
a consciousness of being unable to defend their cause, and their com-
munities should therefore be compelled to unite with the Catholic
church. On the other hand, any who might comply with the invitation,
should at some future time receive again the churches of which they
were deprived. The imperial tribune and notary, Flavius Marcellinus,
Augustin’s friend, was appointed to preside over this religious confer-
ence as the emperor’s commissioner, and to act as judge.
The Catholic bishops made such overtures to the Donatists as were
calculated to give them confidence. They declared themselves ready
1 Cod. Afr. canon 93. If we compare
these minutes of the proceedings of the
council with the report of them drawn up
by Augustin, in the letter already referred
to, addressed to Boniface, we shall doubtless
see, that this report is not strictly correct ;
perhaps because the whole matter was no
longer present to Augustin’s memory; for
this council certainly required, as is evident
from the appendix, a penal law against the
Donatists generally, as such, but one by no
means so severe ; and such a spirit of mild-
ness and liberality as is described by Au-
gustin in the two letters above referred to,
as peculiar to his earlier mode of thinking,
by no means expresses itself in those
minutes. Moreover, it may be gathered
from many of the works against the Dona-
tists which Augustin had at that time al-
ready written, and which we shall hereafter
cite, that he had then actually made the
transition from his earlier liberal principles,
to more strict and rigid ones.
2 In the letters missive of this conference,
the fact was appealed to, that the Donatists
themselves had demanded it, (sic ante bre-
vissimum tempus Donatistarum episcopos
in judicio illustrium potestatum collationem
postulasse non dubium est. Gesta colla-
tionis in Du Pin, f. 247,) although the Don
atists denied all knowledge of having de
manded any such thing.
COUNCIL AT CARTHAGE. 201
to resign their bishoprics, and to surrender them into the hands of the
Donatist bishops alone, in case the latter gained the victory in the con-
ference. Such a proposition, it may be granted, required but little
self-denial, since, beyond all doubt, they were well convinced that the
case supposed could never happen. There was more in the other pro-
posal, that if the cause of the Donatists was lost, and if their bishops
would come over to the Catholic church, they should be recognized in
their episcopal character, and stand on the same level with the Catholic
bishops in the exercise of their functions. But if the communities were
not satisfied with this, both should resign their dignities, and the Dona-
tists and Catholics, now united, choose a new bishop. ‘“‘ Be brothers
with us in the Lord’s inheritance,” said Augustin; ‘let us not, for the
sake of preserving our own stations, hinder the peace of Christ.” 1
Augustin preached in Carthage before the commencement of the con-
ference, two discourses, in which he endeavored to inspire the Catholics
there with love and gentleness towards the Donatists, and called on
them sedulously to avoid everything which might be calculated to give
offence to their excitable feelings, or to arouse their passions. ‘ Their
eyes are inflamed,” said he: ‘‘ they must be treated prudently and with
forbearance. Let no one enter into controversy with the other — let
no one at this moment even defend his faith by disputation, lest some
spark from the controversy kindle into a great fire, lest occasion of of-
fence be given to those who seek occasion for it. Do you hear reviling
language, endure it; be willing not to have heard it; be silent. Do
you say, he brings charges against. my bishop, and shall I be silent?
Yes; be silent at those charges ; not that you are to allow them, but
to bear them. You best subserve the interests of your bishop at the
present moment, when you forbear meddling with his cause. Repay
not revilings with revilings, but pray for him.”’?
There met together at Carthage, A.D. 411, two hundred and eighty-
six bishops of the Catholic, and two hundred seventy-nine of the Dona-
tist party. The Donatists had evidently come to the conference with
reluctance, and full of distrust: this was shown on all occasions. The
tribune Marcellinus, in conformity with the imperial edict, made known
to them the proposal, that, in case they wanted confidence in him, they
were at liberty to choose another person of equal or of superior rank to
preside along with him. The Donatist bishop Petilianus thereupon de-
clared: ‘It is none of our concern to ask for another judge, since in
fact we did not ask for the fist. The business belongs to those who
have been the contrivers of this whole affair.” ὃ
Amid such vast numbers on both sides, the transactions could hardly
be conducted in a quiet and orderly manner. Marcellus demanded,
in compliance with the imperial letters missive, that, according to the
common mode of judicial proceedings, deputies should be chosen from
each of the two parties, seven in number, to advocate the cause of their
respective sides in the name of the rest. But the distrustful Donatists,
prejudiced against the whole business, at first positively refused to enter
1 Augustin. ep. 128, Sermo 358, f. 4. 2P. 857, § 4. 8 Gesta collat. f. 248
?
202 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
into such an arrangement. They declared that the judicial mode of
proceeding was not applicable to this spiritual concern. Amid weari-
some, fruitless disputes about this and other matters relating to the
form of transacting business, the time of the meeting, during the greater
part of the first day, was spent. At length the Donatists were obliged
to yield, and to choose seven bishops. Augustin was the ablest speaker
on the one side, Petilianus on the other.
When, on the second day of the assembly, the seven deputies of
each party entered the hall, the imperial commissioner invited them to
take their seats as he took his own. The Catholic bishops followed the
invitation ; but Petilianus said, in the name of the Donatists: ‘* We do
not sit in the absence of our fathers, (the other bishops, who could not
assist at the conference, ) especially as the divine law, Ps. 26: 4, for-
bids us to sit down with such adversaries.’’ Marcellinus thereupon de-
clared, that respect for the character of the bishops forbade that he
should remain seated, if they chose to stand ; and he ordered his chair
to be removed.
The matters brought forward at this religious conference related to
two disputed questions ; the one, as to the fact whether Felix of Ap-
tunga, and Ceecilian, were traditors ; the other was a question of doc-
trine, viz. what belonged to the essence of the Catholic church, —
whether the church, by communion with unworthy members, lost the pre-
dicate of the genuine Christian, Catholic church. The controversy on
the first point can have no farther interest for us: in respect to the
controversy on the second point, we shall treat upon it connectedly,
when we come to survey the whole matter of dispute between the two
parties.
The imperial commissioner decided, as was to be expected, in favor
of the Catholic church. The decision was followed by severer laws,
by which all the Donatist clergy were banished from their country, and
the laity of the party were condemned to pecuniary fines. ‘The fanati-
cism of the oppressed party was thereby excited to new and more vio-
lent outbreaks. When, in the year 420, the imperial tribune Dulcitius
signified his intention to carry the laws against the Donatists into exe-
cution, Gaudentius, bishop of Thamugade, who had been one of the
seven speakers on the side of the Donatists at the conference of
Carthage, declared that, if force were used to take away his church,
he would burn himself up in it, together with his community. The
tribune having written to him, that such a proceeding would not be in
conformity with the doctrine of Christ; that, according to this, he must
rather seek safety in flight; Gaudentius defended his premeditated sui-
cide, and appealed, among other arguments, to the example of Razis,
2 Maccab. 14. This was the occasion of Augustin’s writing his work
against Gaudentius ; a treatise important on account of its bearmg on
the question of suicide, and on other points connected with the history
of Christian morals, (see the fourth Section.) When the Vandals, in
the fifth century, made themselves masters of this country, the Dona-
tists, as such, had to suffer no persecutions from them. It was only as
adherents of the Nicene creed that they were persecuted, in common
COUNCIL AT CARTHAGE. 203
with other confessors of the same system. They continued to survive,
as a distinct party, down to the sixth century, as may be seen from the
letters of the Roman bishop Gregory the Great.
7 We now pass to consider the theological points of dispute between
the two parties. The first point related to the doctrine concerning the
church. The same remarks which we made on this subject, in speak-
ing of the Novatian controversies in the preceding period, apply also to
the Donatist disputes. Both parties were involved in the same grand
mistake with regard to the conception of the church, by their habit of
confounding the notions of the invisible and of the visible church with
each other. Proceeding on this fundamental error, the Catholic fathers
maintained that, separate from the communion of the one visible Catho-
lic church, derived, through the succession of the bishops, from the apos-
tles, there is no way of participating in the influences of the Holy
Spirit and of obtaining salvation ; and hence it could not seem other-
wise than a matter of the highest importance to those of them who were
actuated by a pure zeal of Christian charity, to bring the Donatists to
acknowledge this universal visible church, although they were not sepa-
rated from them by any difference of creed. On the other hand, the
Donatists, owing to this same confusion of notions, held that every
church which tolerated unworthy members in its bosom was itself pol-
luted by the communion with them: it thus ceased to deserve the pre-
dicates of purity and holiness, and consequently ceased to be a true
Christian church, since such a church could not subsist without these
predicates.
As it concerns Augustin, the principal manager of this controversy,
it is easy to explain, from the course of his religious and theological de-.
velopment, how this notion of the church came to be considered by him
of so much importance; and the foundation on which this notion was
established, by his logical, systematizing mind, exerted a great influence
on all succeeding times. Augustin had been carefully educated, by:
his pious mother, Monica, in the faith, early implanted in his soul, that
the way to heaven was to be found only in the Catholic church. From
the years of his youth and upward, he had fallen into many errors of
theory and practice, and into a series of violent conflicts. He passed,
finally, from Manicheism, which had disappomted the expectations of
many years, to Skepticism. Whilst he was in this state of skepticism,
and whilst an inward impulse of his intellect and his heart compelled
him still to believe in some objective truth, the thought took possession
of his soul: Must not God have instituted an authority, capable of be-
ing known by sure and certain marks, to conduct the restless, doubting
spirit of man, to the truth which he needs? From skepticism, the
transition was here formed, in his case, — which was a case often re-
peated in history, — to the faith in the authority of a visible church,
proved to be of divine origin by evidences not to be mistaken. Again,
although the belief in the truth and divinity of the doctrines of Christ,
which had attended him from his childhood, and never forsaken him,
even when he embraced Manicheism, asserted its power in his soul more
strongly as he grew older; yet he was in doubt as to the question where
204 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
these doctrines of Christ were to be found, since each one of the sects
claimed to be itself in possession of them. He wanted that knowledge
of the right hermeneutical, exegetical, and critical principles, which
would have enabled him to answer this question, as to what were the
true doctrines of Christ, out of the sacred scriptures alone. The her-
meneutical and critical principles of the Manicheans had completely un-—
settled him: he wanted a stable authority, which could show him where
the pure doctrines of Christ, the unfalsified collection of religious
records, and the correct doctrinal exposition of them, were already
present. ‘This authority he believed he found in the tradition of the
universal church. When Augustin considered that this church had
come forth victorious out of all her conflicts with the powers that had
assailed her from without, and with the manifold corruptions of Chris-
tianity in erroneous forms of doctrine ; when he perceived what a revo-
lution in the whole mode of human thought, and in the entire life of
man, had been effected by means of this church, how the loftiest truths
of religion had passed into the common consciousness of humanity
where this church had become dominant; he confounded in this case
what the church had effected through Christianity, and what Christi-
anity had effected through the church, as the instrument and vessel for
‘its diffusion and propagation, with what the church had done in and of
itself as a visible, outward institution, in this determinate earthly form.
What he might justly regard as a witness for the divine, world-trans-
forming power of the gospel, appeared to him as a witness for the di-
vine authority of the visible, universal church ; and he did not consider
that the gospel truth would have been able to bring about effects equally
great, by its inherent divine power, in some other vessel in which it
could have been diffused among mankind ; nay, that it would have been
able to produce still purer and mightier effects, had it not been in many
ways disturbed and checked in its operation by the impure and confin-
ing vehicle of its transmission.1
As Augustin, at the time of his controversy with the Donatists, had
already incorporated into his life, and woven into the very texture of
his thoughts, this confused mixture of conceptions necessarily distinct ;
as this error, then universally prevailing in the Western, and _particu-
larly in the North-African church, had thus passed over into his inmost
habits of thinking, it is easy to see of what weight this point must have
seemed to him in the present dispute. Hence he could say :? “ No
one attains to salvation, and to eternal life, who has not Christ for his
Head. But no one can have Christ for a Head, who does not belong
to his Body, which is the church.” 8 Hence the error, growing out of
this confounding and mixing together of distinct notions, that the union
of believers with Christ was brought about through the union with this
1 The authorities for this delineation are tholicze et moribus Manichzeorum, de vera
furnished by Augustin’s confessions, by the religione, and de utilitate credendi.
works which he composed during the great 2 De unitate ecclesix, c. 49.
crisis of his inner life until the first years 3 Habere caput Christum nemo poterit,
of his spiritual office, and especially the nisi qui in ejus corpore fuerit, quod est ec-
works de ordine, de moribus ecclesiz ca- clesia.
THE POINTS IN DISPUTE. 205
_ visible church. And hence, in following out this principle, he asserts:
« The entire Christ is the Head and the Body ; — the Head is the only-
begotten Son of God, and the Body is the church. He who agrees not
with scripture in the doctrine concerning the Head, although he may
stand in external communion with the church, notwithstanding belongs
not to her. But, moreover, he who holds fast to all that scripture
teaches respecting the Head, and yet cleaves not to the unity of the
church, belongs not to her.” 1
It is a fact particularly worthy of notice in the polemical writings of
Augustin, that, whenever the Donatists made appeal to miracles, an-
swers to prayer, visions, and to the holy lives of their bishops, as evi-
dences that the true church was with them, he, on the other hand, will
allow the validity of no other evidence than the objective testimony of
the divine word. ‘ Let them not try to prove the genuineness of their
church,” says he,? “ by the councils of their bishops, by deceitful miracu-
lous signs, since we have been warned and put on our guard against
such proofs by the word of the Lord, (Matth. 24: 25,) but let them
do it by the law and prophets, and by the word of the only Shepherd.*
Neither do we ourselves affirm that men ought to believe us in main-
taining that we are in the Catholic church, because this church is re-
commended by an Optatus of Mileve, or by an Ambrose of Milan, or
other numberless bishops of our communion ; or because it has been
approved by the assemblies of our colleagues ; or because such wonder-
ful instances of answers to prayer, or of the healing of the sick, have
been witnessed on sacred spots in the whole world, which have been
visited by the members of our communion ; or because this person has ~
had a vision, and that other has heard in a trance, that he should not
unite himself with the Donatist party, or that he should forsake it.” It
must be admitted, however, that Augustin is inconsistent with himself,
and moves round in a circle, when, in disputing with the Donatists, he
allows validity to no evidence but that of the scriptures, in favor of the
Catholic church; while, in his controversy with the Manicheans, he makes ᾿
the aughority of the holy scriptures themselves to depend on that of the
church which referred to them, and from which we have received the
sacred canon.*
The Donatists maintained that the church should cast out from its
body those who were known, by open and manifest sins, to be unworthy
members. ΤῸ prove this, they adduced the fifth chapter of Paul’s
first epistle to the Corinthians, where the apostle has given certain
rules for the practice of church discipline. ‘When the church did
not act in accordance with these rules,” said they, “‘ but tolerated
such unworthy members in her communion, she lost the predicates
1 De unitate ecclesiz, ὁ 7.
21,. c. ὁ 47.
81, ς. § 50.
4 The well-known and remarkable words,
contra epistolam Manichei, ὁ 6: Ego vero
evangelio non crederem, nisi me catholicze
ecclesiz commoveret auctoritas; while, on
the other hand, what he says against the
Donatists would admit, perhaps, of being
VOL. 11.
expressed by reversing the proposition : Ego
vero catholics ecclesize non crederem, nisi
me evangelii commoveret auctoritas. But if
tradition conducts, through the church, to the
scriptures, it by no means follows, that they
are believed on the ground of its authority.
We see here that confusion of ideas, the
cause of which is so easily accounted for by
what has been said above.
206 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
of purity and holiness.”’ All those passages of holy writ which bid us
avoid the company of the wicked, they referred — confounding inward
disposition with outward conduct — to the avoiding of external compan-
ionship with them. Augustin, taking the position of the Catholic
church, replied that, it was true, church discipline should, by all means,
be vigorously maintained ; but that still such a complete separation from
the rest, even of manifest transgressors, was, in the existing state of
the church, impracticable ; that the evil must be patiently endured, to
avoid a still greater one, and to give opportunity for reformation to such
as could be reformed, especially in those cases where the wickedness
which was to be corrected by church discipline, was shared by too
many. ‘The apostle Paul, he attempts to show, by what we must allow
to be a rather forced interpretation,! was speaking only of individuals,
whose vices were not common to many, and whose vices were univer-
sally known; so that the sentence of excommunication pronounced
against such persons must have been acknowledged as just by all. But
when the same disease had infected many, nothing was left to the good
but pain and grief, that so by the mark revealed to Ezekiel, (Ezek. 9:
4,) they might be preserved from the destruction with which all were
threatened. Where the infection of sin had seized on the many, the
severity of a divine chastisement was required ; for the counsels of hu-
man separation were vain and mischievous ; they proceeded from pride ;
they rather disturbed the weak among the good, than exerted any
power of reformation on the boldly wicked. Let man then punish, what
he may punish, in the spirit of love. Where he may not, let him suffer
patiently, sigh and mourn with love, until either chastisement and refor-
mation come from above, or, at the general harvest, the tares be rooted
out, and the chaff sifted away. Thus the good and faithful Christians,
certain of their own salvation, may persevere to dwell im unity among
the corrupt, whom it is beyond their power to punish, seeking to extir-
pate the sin which is in their own heart.2. The Catholic party appealed
to those parables of our Lord which treat of the separation of the good
and bad, reserved unto the final judgment ; the parables of the tares,
of the good fruit, of the draught of fishes. The Donatists replied,
. either that these passages referred simply to the mixing together of the
good and the bad in the world, and not within the church ; that by the
field, the net, was to be understood, not the church, but the world ; or
they maintained that those passages referred simply to the mixing in of
secret sinners with the saints ; since even they allowed, that a complete
separation was in this life impossible, and demanded only the exclusion
of those wko were manifestly vicious.? As it respects the first of these
1 Jn the phrase, “si quis,” he maintained,
was implied one among many differently
disposed; and in the words, “fratres nomi-
nantur,” that his offence was generally
known,
2 Augustin. c, epist. Parmenian, 1. III.
§ 12, et seqq.
3 As it respects the second position, the
Donatists explained: Hoe de rets latentibus
dictum, quoniam reticulum in mari positum
quid habeat a piscatoribus, id est a sacerdo-
tibus, ignoratur, donec extractum ad littus
ad purgationem boni seu mali prodantur.
Ita etlatentes et in ecclesia constituti et a
sacerdotibus ignorati, in divino judicio prodi-
ti, tanquam pisces mali a sanctorum consor-
tio separantur. See Collat. Carthag. ἃ. III.
ed. Du Pin, fol: 314, and the breviculus of
Augustin concerning this day.
VIEWS OF THE PARTIES. 207
‘positions, we may remark here a noticeable dispute between the Dona-
tists and their antagonists, relative to the use of the term, ‘ world,”’ in
the sacred scriptures ; where it becomes evident, how the same funda-
mental error in confounding the notions of the invisible and of the visi-
_ ble church, ih which both parties were involved, prevented their coming
to a mutual understanding. The Donatists appealed to the fact, that
Christ himself, in explaining this parable, taught that the field is the
world. Augustin, on the other hand, replied, that in this passage
Christ used the term, “world,” in place of the church. This was
perhaps correct ; but the question comes up, In what particular point
of view was this notion of the church employed? That portion of the
visible church which belongs at the same time to the invisible, could,
however, only form an antithesis to that portion which the New Testa-
ment calls, in a peculiar sense, the world. But of the external, visible
church, in so far as it is not one with the invisible, it may with proprie-
ty be said, that it belongs to the world in the sense of the Bible. Pre-
cisely because the Donatist bishop Emeritus failed to mark this distine-
tion of ideas, he uttered — as Augustin expressed it — that petulant
exclamation. He then proceeded directly to quote those passages from
John, where the world expresses that which is opposed to the kingdom
of God ; and demanded, whether that could be said of the church ? —
for example, the world knows not God, therefore the church knows not
God. But of one portion of the visible church all this may with pro- —
priety be said ; and the Donatist himself could have no hesitation in
applying all this to the secret unworthy members who yet belonged to .
the visible church. Pity that he had not made himself distinctly con-
scious of this! Augustin answered, that the holy scriptures used the
term, “‘ world,’ sometimes in a good, and sometimes in a bad sense. In
the former, for example, when it is said, the world believes in Christ,
is redeemed by him ; but he ought to have considered, that the invisi-
ble church receives its members out of the world ; that they who once |
belonged to the world, in that biblical sense, do, by becoming incorpo-
rated, by faith and participation in the redemption, into the invisible
church, cease belonging to it any longer. Augustin says, one need
only distinguish the different senses of the term ‘ world,” and one
would no longer find any contradiction here in the scriptures. But he
would have advanced farther, and been still more free from prejudice,
in his interpretation of the Bible, if he had duly distinguished the
different significations of the word “church.” He says: ‘‘ Behold the
world in the bad sense, all who cleave to earthly things among all the
nations ; — behold, on the other hand, the world in the good sense, all
who believetand have hope of eternal life among all nations.”? But
are not the last mentioned precisely the members of the genuine church
of Christ, of the znvisible church, among all the nations where the gos-
pel has found its way, — among all the different earthly forms of appear-
ance of the visible church ?
It is remarkable, but also very natural, that the Donatists, to show
1 Mundum ipsum appellatum esse pro ecclesia nomine. 2L. c.f. 317.
«
208 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
the necessity of a severe sifting in the church, and to prove that the
church was corrupt where such a sifting had not been made, drew their
arguments, for the most part, from the Old Testament, and from such
passages of the Old Testament as treat of the external purity of the
people of God.! They ought, however, in this case, to have paid some
regard to that necessary distinction between the positions of the Old
and of the New Testament, which they were not slow to insist on, in”
other cases, against their opponents.
According to the Catholic point of view, to the essence of the genuine
Catholic church belonged its general spread through the medium of the
episcopal succession down from the apostles. From the conception of
the Catholic church in this sense was then first derived the predicates
of purity and holiness. On the other hand, according to the Donatist
point of view, the predicate of Catholic ought to be subordinate to those
of purity and holiness. When the church, however widely extended, —
they inferred,— became corrupted by intercourse with unworthy mem-
bers, then that church, in whatever nook or corner of the earth it might
be, which had no manifestly vicious members within its pale, is the
genuinely Catholic one.2 They appealed, not without reason, from the
prejudgment grounded on numbers and universality, to the passages
of scripture where the little band of genuine confessors were distin-
guished from the great mass of apostates, or of those belonging to the
kingdom of God merely in outward appearance; as, for example, the
seven thousand that had not bowed the knee to Baal, — where the few,
who went in the strait way towards heaven, were opposed to the multi-
tude of those who went in the broad way to destruction. They main-
tained that when Christ represented it as so doubtful, (Luke 18: 8,)
whether at his reappearance he should find faith on the earth, this indi-
cated that the faithful, in the true sense, would not be thus diffused in
one mass over the whole earth.? But although they were right here, in
distinguishing those who in the visible church constituted the church
proper, the invisible one, from the great mass of those who made up
the appearance of the visible church; yet they were wrong in this
respect, that, confounding once more, on another side, notions distinct
in themselves, they persisted in forming this genuine church only ac-
cording to the dictates of a separatist pride. They imagined the saying
was here confirmed, that the last should be first; the holy, pure church
was at present in Africa; while the East, where Christianity com-
menced its progress, had fallen from purity ;— and although in Africa
G.e. North Africa) no church was to be found which was of apostolic
origin. ‘They protested here, therefore, against the claims of the sedes
apostolicee, and against those who were for uniformly attaching to the
outward fellowship with these the predicate of a Catholic church.+*
1 Collat. 1. ο. fol. 313, 314. tholicus. And the bishop Gaudentius :
2 The Donatist bishop Emeritus says, in
opposing the assumption of the other party,
who always proceeded on the supposition
that they were the Catholic church accord-
ing to the principle of universality: Qui-
cunque justis legitimisque ex causis Chris-
tianus fuerit approbatus, ille meus est Ca-
Catholicum nomen non ad provincias vel
gentes referendum; cum hoc sit quod sa-
cramentis plenum, quod perfectum, quod
immaculatum. . Collat. ἃ. III. f. 301 et 2.
8 Augustin. de unitate ecclesix, ὁ 33,
et seqq.
1 De unitate ecclesia, ὁ 37
VIEWS OF THE PARTIES. 209
Midway between both parties stood the Donatist grammarian, Ticho-
nius, approving neither of the intolerant, proud spirit of separatism, nor
of Catholicism, which was for forcing men into an external unity. He
allowed that his party was wrong in holding themselves to be the alone
pure church; and in making tle fulfilment of the divine promise, as to
the blessing which should be dispensed through the posterity of Abra-
ham to all mankind,— the blessing of a preached gospel which should
reach the whole world, — to depend ona subjective human purity which
nowhere existed, He camld not agree that, by communion with un-
worthy members which it did not expel from itself, the church could
lose its character, which rested on an objective, divine foundation.}
He doubtless made his own party mark their inconsistency in the fact,
that the Donatists might perceive a great deal of the same impurity in
their own communities which they so sharply reproved in the Catholic
church as a profanation of its character. What was holy or not holy
must be determined by their own caprice.2, Augustin, however, ac-
cused Tichonius himself of inconsistency,* because he did not, in accord-
ance with these principles, abandon his party, and acknowledge those
who stood in church fellowship with the Christendom extending through-
out the entire world, as the Catholic church. This inconsistency, how-
ever, he could find in Tichonius, only by supposing in his mind the same
confusion of the invisible with the visible church in which he himself
was involved, and the same principles of a necessary visible unity of
the church. But on this very point he was mistaken. Tichonius dis-
tinguished two parts of the body of Christ, (corpus Domini bipartitum,)
i.e. of that which exhibits itself in manifestation as the body of Christ, .
as the church ; —one part, the individuals scattered through the whole
world, who, by faith and temper of mind, really beleng to Christ’s spirit-
ual body, who are truly one with him as the Head of the spiritual body ;
in whom he is daily born and grows up into the holy temple of God ;#
to whom the description applies which Paul gives in Ephesians 5: 27,
inasmuch as they are purified in the faith by the blood of Christ — .
therefore the true community of the saints ;—— another part, those scat-
tered throughout the world, who belong indeed, as to visible appearance,
to the same body of Christ, and draw nigh to God with their lips, but
in heart are far from him.® Accordingly, Tichonius could say that the
two portions of the manifested body of Christ remained connected with
each other throughout the whole world; and the important question
was, to which of these two portions did each individual belong, by the
1 See Augustin. c. epistolam Parmeniani,
1.1. 5.1 et 23.1. ΠΙ. § 17. Comp. also the
hermeneutic rules of Tichonius, reg. I,
where, probably in opposition to the other
Donatists, he remarks: Non enim sicut qui-
dam dicunt, in contumeliam regni Dei invic-
taeque hereditatis Christi, quod non sine
dolore dico, Dominus. totum mundum po-
testate et non sui corporis plenitudine occu-
pavit. Bibl. patr. Ludg. T. VI. f. 50.
2 Quod volumus sanctum est. Augustin.
c. epist. Parmeniani, 1. IT. § 31. 1
8:
VOL. II.
3 C. epist. Parmeniani, |. I. ο. 1.
4 Reg. I. God as the fountain of divine
life in human nature through Christ. Deus
in corpore suo filius est hominis, qui quo-
tidie nascendo, (the spiritual becoming of the
divine life.) venit et crescit in templum
sanctum Dei.
5 Reg. II. Qui. ejusdem corporis sunt
visibiliter, et Deo labiis quidem adpropin
quant, corde tamen separati sunt.
210 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
temper of his mind. Owing to this intermediate relation to both par-
ties, he could of course make his cause good to neither ; in addition to
which it must be remarked that he seems to have been somewhat ob-
scure in his mode of expressing himself.1
That separatist pride of the Donatists, which attributed so much weight
to the subjectively human element, as their principle compelled them
to do, often expressed itself, in the heat of controversy, in an extremely
harsh and unchristian manner. On the other hand, Augustin not
unfrequently explains his own views in a very beautiful style, and in the
genuinely Christian sense, respecting the might and validity of the
objectively divine element; respecting the relation of the human ele-
ment to the same, as a mere organ; and respecting the vanity and emp-
tiness of the human element, whenever it aspires to be anything more
than this.
When the Donatist bishop Petilian pressed Augustin to declare ex-
plicitly whether he acknowledged Ceecilian as his father, in which case
the cause of the Catholic church would be made to depend wholly on
the guilt or innocence of this latter individual, Augustin at length de-
clared: “1 have one Head, but this is Christ; whose apostle I hear
saying: ‘ All is yours, but ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.’ For,
even in the case where the apostle called himself a father, he added,
that we might beware of attributing to his paternity any weak human
foundation, ‘I have begotten you through the gospel.’ To the gospel,
then, I trace my parentage. It is one thing, when, from motives of
respect, we call the more aged or the more deserving, our fathers ; and
it is quite another, when the question is put us, whom have we for our
father as it respects eternal salvation, as it respects the communion of
the church, and the participation in the divine promises. As it con-
cerns eternal salvation, — I beg pardon of the apostle, or rather it is he
that bids me so speak, — the apostle is not my father in respect to that;
—he who tells me: ‘I have planted, and Apollos watered, but God
gave the increase. So, then, neither is he that planteth anything,
neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.’ In re-
spect to my salvation, I acknowledge no other father than God; of
whom our Lord says: ‘ Ye shall éall no man father on the earth, for
one is your Father, who is in heaven,’ and to whom we daily say:
‘Our Father which art in heaven.’”’? When Petilian made use of the
strongest expressions to show that all religious acts possessed their true
significance only in their (the Donatists’) alone pure and holy church,
that none but a clergyman without spot or blame could duly administer
the sacraments; when Petilian expressed himself to this purport, that
éverything depended on the conscience of him who imparted baptism,
since it was through him the conscience of the recipient was to be
cleansed ; Augustin replied: ‘ Often the conscience of man is unknown
1 Augustin doubtless perceived much that reticus loquitur: he could not, however,
was anti-catholic in the hermeneutical rules exactly specify what ,they were. De doc.
of Tichonius relative to the significations trina Christiana, |. III. § 43.
of the body of Christ. These he calls 2 Collat. c. Donatist. l.¢ f. 312
Donatist views: Quz sicut Donatista hx-
VIEWS OF THE PARTIES. 211
. to me, but J am certain of the mercy of Christ. When Petilian said:
«ς Whoever receives the faith from an unbeliever, receives not faith, but
guilt,” 1 Augustin answered: ‘“ But Christ is faithful, from whom I re-
ceive faith, and not guilt.” When Petilian said: ‘The character of
everything depends strictly on its origin and its root (consequently
here on the character of the person administering the sacraments) —a
genuine new birth can proceed only from good seed, Augustin replied:
“ΜΚ origin is Christ, my root is Christ, my Head is Christ. The seed,
from which I am regenerated, is the word of God, which my Lord exhorts
me obediently to follow, although he through whom I hear it, may not
himself practise what he teaches.” To the remark of Petilian: ‘ How
absurd to suppose that he who is guilty through his own transgressions,
can absolve others from guilt!” he replied: ‘* He alone makes me free
from guilt, who died for our sins, and rose again for our justification ;
for I believe not in the minister by whom I am baptized, but in Him
who justifies the sinner, so that my faith is accounted unto me for
righteousness.”’ 2
As Petilian, in his pastoral letters against the Catholic church, had
brought many charges against Augustin himself, the latter replied to
these charges in his third book against Petilian, confining himself
wholly to the interests of the cause. ‘‘ Let no man,” he says, “ glory
inman. If you see anything praiseworthy in us, let Him be praised
from whom cometh down every good and perfect gift. And in all
which you acknowledge to be good in us, be followers of us, if we
also are followers of Christ. But if ye surmise, believe, or seek after,
things that are bad in us, hold fast to the word of the Lord, and, throw-
ing yourselves on that, forsake not his church on account of the wicked-
ness of men, Matth. 23: 3. Observe, do what we bid you; but, where
ye believe or know that we do wrong, do not after our works; for at
present it is not the time for me to justify myself before you, since I
have undertaken to recommend to you the cause of truth and salvation
without regard to my own personal concerns, that none may glory in a.
man. For cursed is he that putteth his trust in man. If this word of
the Lord is kept and observed, even though I may fall, so far as it con-
cerns my own personal interests, yet the cause I serve will come off
victorious.” 3
' Since the Catholics, in their controversy with the Donatists, distin-
guished the church on earth, in which genuine and spurious members
are mixed together, from the church of heaven, purified from its spuri-
ous members, they might easily have been led, by pursuing this distine-
tion still further, to distinguish the conceptions of the visible and of the
invisible church. In this way they furnished occasion to the Donatists
of charging them with supposing the existence of two churches ; but they
were extremely uneasy under this accusation, and would allow of no
other distinction than that of two different conditions of one and the
same church, inasmuch as it was at present a mortal church, but would
1 Qui fidem a perfido sumserit, non fidem 2 Augustin. c. Petilian. 1. 1. § 8.
percipit, sed reatum. 3 Contra Petilian. 1. IL ὁ 4
212 THE DONATIST SCHISM.-
hereafter be an immortal one. And Augustin, in his book, ‘“ de uni-
tate ecclesiz,” says: ““ Many stand, in the communion of the sacra-
ments, with the church, and are still not im the church.’’? But what
means this: They are not in the church, and they yet stand in com-
munion with the church? In the outward, apparent church they are
certainly ; but in the inner, invisible church, to which none can belong
otherwise than by the temper of the heart, they are not. And with
what church can they stand in communion by a bare outward participa ᾿
tion of the sacraments alone? Certainly with no other but with that
which is itself merely an outward and visible one ; from which, inas-
much as it ¢s the bare form of manifestation, destitute of the inner life,
no true life can proceed. Augustin would, therefore, if he had made
himself distinctly conscious of what was implied in his own conceptions,
have properly said: ‘* Many stand in outward communion with the visi-
ble church, who are yet, by the temper of their hearts, by no means
members of the invisible church.” And he himself does in fact inti-
mate, in another place, that there is a church, which is the body of
Christ, something other than the bare appearance of the church, or the
bare visible church—a church with which they who did not belong
to it by the temper of their hearts, stood in no sort of connection, —
when he says of such: ““ We ought not to believe that they are in the
body of Christ, which is the church, because, in a bodily manner, they
participate in its sacraments. But they are not in that communion of
the church, which, in the members of Christ by mutual union, makes in-
crease to that measure of its growth which God has appointed ; for that
church is founded on a rock, as the Lord says: On this rock will I
build my church. But such persons build on the sand.” To what
results would Augustin have arrived, if he had made clear to himself the
distinction of ideas which lies at the bottom of these words ?
Another more important point of dispute related to the employment
of force in matters of religion. The Donatists bore their testimony on
this point with emphasis in favor of that course which the example of
Christ and the apostles, which the spirit of the gospel, and the sense of
man’s universal rights, called forth by the latter, required. The point
of view first set forth in a clear light by Christianity, when it made
religion the common good of all mankind and raised it above all narrow
political restrictions, was by the Donatists manfully asserted, in oppo-
sition to a theory of ecclesiastical rights at variance with the spirit of
the gospel, and which had sprung up out of a new mixture of ecclesias-
tical with political interests. They could not succeed so well in unfold-
ing the relation of the church to the state, for here they easily passed
from one extreme over to the other. If their opponents erred on the
side of confounding too much the church with the state, they, on the
other hand, were too much inclined to represent the opposition between
1 Collat. fol. 318. Eandem ipsam unam 3 C. Petilian. II. § 247, and de doctrina
et sanctam ecclesiam nunc esse aliter, tune Christiana, 1. III. § 45. He himself, in cen-
autem aliter futuram. suring the expression of Tichonius, biparti-
24. 74, Multi sunt in sacramentorum tum corpus Domini, distinguishes the corpus
communione cum ecclesia, et tamen jam Christi verum atque, simulatum.
non sunt in ecclesia.
VIEWS OF THE PARTIES. 218
- the two, which was grounded in the early relation of the church to a
pagan state, as a relation that must ever continue to exist.
- The Donatist bishop Petilian says: “ Did the apostles ever persecute
any one, or did Christ ever deliver any one over to the secular power ?
Christ commands us to flee persecutors, Matth. 10: 23. Thou who
callest thyself a disciple of Christ oughtest not to imitate the evil deeds ©
of the heathens. Think you thus to serve God,—by destroying us
with your own hand? Ye err, ye err, poor mortals, if ye believe this ;
for God has not executioners for his priests. Christ persecutes no one ;
for he was for inviting, not forcing, men to the faith; and when the
apostles complained to him of the founders of separate parties, Luke 9:
50, he said to them: ‘ He who is not against us, is for us ;’ and so too
Paul, in Philippians 1: 18.1 Our Lord Christ says: ‘No man can
come unto me, unless the Father, who hath sent me, draw him.’ But
why do you not permit every man to follow his own free will, since
God, the Lord himself, has bestowed this free will on man? He has
simply pointed out to man the way to righteousness, that none might
be lost through ignorance. Christ, in dying for men, has given Chris-
tians the example to die, but not to kill. Christ teaches us to suffer
wrong, not to requite it. The apostle tells us of what he had endured,
not of what he had done to others. But what have you to do with the
princes of this world, in whom the Christian cause has ever found only
its enemies?’’ He cites examples from the Old and the New Testament ;
he supposes he finds mention made of princes hostile to the church in
1 Corinth. 2: 6. Yet he adds: “‘ This may have been said, however,
of the ancient pagan princes; but you suffer not. the emperors of this
world, who would be Christians, to be such, since you mislead them, by
your false representations, to turn the weapons prepared against the
enemies of the state, against Christians.”” The Donatist bishop Gau-
dentius says: ‘‘ God created man free, after his own image. How am
I to be deprived of that by human lordship, which God has bestowed on
me? What sacrilege, that human arrogance should take away what:
God has bestowed, and idly boast of doing this in God’s behalf! It is
a great offence against God, when he is defended by men. What must
he think of God, who would defend him with outward force? [5 it that
God is unable to punish offences against himself? Hear what the Lord
says: ‘Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the
world giveth, give I unto you.’ The peace of the world must be intro-
duced among contending nations by arms. The peace of Christ invites
the willing with wholesome mildness ; it never forces men against their
wills. The almighty God employed prophets to convert the people of
Israel; hé enjoined it not on princes; the Saviour of souls, the Lord
Christ, sent fishermen, and not soldiers, to preach his faith.”
1 Petilian would say, that to Christians nothing as genuinely Christian beyond the
every one should be welcome who preached pale of their own spotless church, did not
Christ; but this the Catholics could not act consistently according to this principle;
see, since to them the faith in Christ was with which inconsistency Augustin took
nothing without faith in the visible church. care to reproach them. Vid. Augustin.
And even the Donatists, in recognizing contra literas Petiliani, 1. ΤΙ. § 178 et 180
214 THE DONATIST SCHISM. -
Augustin, in attacking these arguments of the Donatists, now ap-
peared as the advocate of a theory of ecclesiastical rights, of which he
himself, as we have already remarked, was at an earlier period the op-
ponent. He was, in this case, carried along by the spirit of the times ;
and this spirit had found a point of union for such errors in his habit
of confounding the visible and the invisible church. He who possesses
at all times a clear consciousness that the true and real church of
Christ is an invisible one, is also constantly aware that it cannot be
built up and advanced by any outward human mechanism, but only by
that which penetrates into the inmost recesses of the mind, and begets a
free conviction. But he who overvalues the vehicle of the outward
church, will also deem it a matter of high importance that men should,
in the first place, be introduced into this—and that indeed can be
effected by a great variety of outward, human means.
As early as the year 400, Augustin had changed his principles on
this subject ; for already he defended against the Donatist bishop Par-
menianus, the resort to force against the Donatists, though, in his advice
given at the same time before a council in Carthage, “(see above,) he
did not yet allow himself to be determined by these principles. But,
even at a still subsequent period, we find examples to show that he suf-
fered himself to be guided in his mode of action by a milder Christian
spirit than that was which could give birth to such principles.) Pity it
was that errors which grew first out of practice should, by the applica-
tion of Augustin’s logic, —so adroit in combining things true, half true,
and false, into a plausible whole, — be wrought into a systematic theory,
and thereby become the more firmly rooted in the ecclesiastical polity.
Augustin did indeed know too well what constituted the essence of in-
ward Christianity, the Christianity of faith and of temper, to be capable
of entertaining the opinion that faith could be brought into the heart by
outward arrangements ; — penetrated as he was with the conviction
that man’s conversion can only be a work of divine grace operating on
the soul. Moreover, he never lost sight of the truth, that mere
external communion with the church, which alone was capable of
being forcibly brought about by means of fear and_ punishment,
can make no one a member of the kingdom of God. But he main-
tained that man may nevertheless be prepared i in various ways, by out
ward means, by suffering, for faith and conversion. He appealed to
the highest exainple, that of God, who by suffering educates men, brings
them to a consciousness of themaélees, and conducts them to faith ;—to
the example of the parent who corrects the son for his profit. ‘* Who
doubts but what itis better to be led to God by instruction, than by
fear of punishment or affliction? But because the former, who will be
guided only by instruction, are better, the others are still not to be
neglected. Show me the man who, in real faith and true consciousness,
says with the whole strength of his soul: ‘ My soul thirsteth after God ;’
1 He demanded that even deeds of vio- Christian gentleness; and if he could ac-
lence, which had been committed by furious complish his end in no other way, he was
Circumeellions on the clergy, should be determined himself to make application to
punished, not according to the strictness of the emperors. See Augustin. ep. 139 ad
the laws, but according to the spirit of Marcellinum.
VIEWS OF THE PARTIES. ΤῸ
and I will allow that for such a person, not only the fear of temporal
punishments or imperial laws, but even the fear of hell, is unnecessary :
whatever separates him from his highest good, is punishment enough
forhim. But many, like bad servants, must often be reclaimed to their
master by the rod of temporal suffermg, ere they can attain to this
highest stage of religious development.”?1 We are shown here how
seductive may be a comparison of two relations altogether differing in
kind. Augustin forgot to inquire into the natural limits of the civil
power, and of all outward human might, in conformity with what the
sacredness of man’s universal rights, grounded in God’s creation, re-
quires. He failed to consider that, owing to the natural limits fixed
and determined by these universal rights of man, the government of a
state can be compared, neither with the divine government of the world,
nor even with the course of training to which the parent subjects his
son in the years of his pupilage. What, according to this principle set
up by Augustin, might not despotism hold to be allowable, for the sake
of the pretended holy end, the general good; as soon as the question,
which is the only one here, What is right ? came once to be subordi-
nated to the question, What is expedient and salutary ?
Very justly Augustin observes: ‘‘ The state is as far from being
able, by punishment, to exert an influence on the moral disposition, as
on inward piety. Goodness, too, comes only from free will.”? But
he wrongly infers from this, that, as the state is authorized and. bound
to restrain the outward sallies of wickedness by punishment, the same
holds good also of the outward sallies of heresy or schism. Here again
he compares things wholly differmg in kind. Not everything that ex-
hibits itself outwardly, becomes subject thereby to the jurisdiction of
the state. Much evil reveals itself outwardly in actions, and neverthe-
less cannot on that account be brought under the jurisdiction of the
state. This latter extends only to that evil which can be judged on
principles of political law and equity, and which violates the outward
order of the civil community. But with this, the individual or common
expression and the individual or common profession of religious convic-
tions, of whatever sort they may be, do not of themselves come in con-
flict. It might be agreeable to the spirit of Paganism, but it was in
contradiction with the spirit of the gospel, to subject the individual or
common expressions of religious faith to maxims of civil jurisprudence.
On these false premises Augustin goes on to affirm, from the princi-
ple that the state has no concern with the piety of its subjects, because
this must spring solely out of free conviction, ‘“ that the state must here
leave everything to the freedom of each individual ; from this principle
it would follow that the state must also leave full freedom to its subjects
for every crime. Or ought murder, adultery, and all other crimes, to
be punished, and sacrilege alone be left to go unpunished?”’? He
descended to the sophistic reasoning: ‘ Divisions and sects are derived
1 See c. Petilian. 1. IJ. ep. 185 ad Boni- antur homicidia, puniantur adulteria, punian-
facium. tur cetera quantalibet sceleris sive libidinis
2 C. lit. Petiliani, 1. IT. 184. facinora seu flagitia, sola sacrilegia volumus
8 ©. Gaudent. Donatist. 1. 1. § 20. Puni- a regnantium legibus impunita.
210 THE DONATIST SCHISM.
by Paul, Gal. 5: 19, like all other transgressions, from one and the
same fountain of inward corruption, the flesh —hence classed in the
same category. If, then, the state is not authorized to employ punish-
ment against some fruits of the flesh, neither can it be authorized to
employ it against others ;’” — where he makes no account whatever of
the consideration that the religious-moral point of view, from which
Paul here regards the matter, is altogether different from the civil and .
judicial, from which alone the state can regard itt _
With good right, it is true, Augustin asserts, in opposition to the Do-
natists, that even kings are bound as Christians to serve their particu-
lar vocation in a Christian spirit; that as each must serve God in his
own peculiar way, according to his particular vocation, so they, too,
must serve God in a peculiar way in the fulfilment of the duties of
their office.2 But he erred only in deriving, from this correct position,
consequences which he was in no way authorized to derive from it.
The question arose, in the first place, in what does a government in the
Christian sense consist; and how far does the province of kingly power,
or of civil power generally, in human affairs, reach? To make use of
their power against heretics, cost the emperors no sacrifice of self-denial.
On the contrary, it flattered the consciousness of the sovereign’s rights ;
and he might believe that in this way, which was so easy for him, he
could atone for many transgressions. But if he allowed himself to be
actuated, in his whole conduct as emperor, by the spirit of Christian
self-denial, he would assuredly have far better subserved the cause of
Christianity than he could have served it by the demolition of every
idol, which work Augustin so highly extols as the prerogative of impe-
rial power.?
But we may allow that Augustin was perhaps authorized to avail
himself, in defending the church, of a principle which at this time had
already become universally predominant in church practice, and of
which this theory of church rights already lay at the foundation.
“Who,” says Augustin, “ will not give his approbation to the laws by
which the emperors forbid sacrifices even on penalty of death? Will
not the Donatists themselves agree with us here?” If they did so, it
must be allowed that they were defeated by their own inconsistency.‘
It was the case with Augustin here, as in many other instances, that,
owing to his ignorance of the rules of a right interpretation of scripture,
1 Augustin against the Donatists: Cum
in veneficos vigorem legum exerceri juste
fateantur; in hzreticos autem atque impias
dissensiones nolint fateri, cum in iisdem
iniquitatis fructibus auctoritate apostolica
numerentur? C. epist. Parmeniani, 1 I.
16.
26. lit. Petiliani, 1. II. ὁ 210. Habent
reges excepta humani generis socictate, eo
ipso quo reges sunt, unde sic Domino ser-
viant, quomodo non possunt, qui reges non
sunt.
3 Non enim auferenda idola de terra pos-
set quisquam jubere privatus. Augustin. l.c.
4 This inconsistency could not, perhaps,
be laid to the charge of all the Donatists.
In the passage referred to above against
Parmenian, Augustin speaks doubtfully on
this point: Quid istis videatur, ut crimen
idololatria putent juste ab imperatorihus
vindicari aut si nee hoc volunt, etc.; and
he says here, that many Donatists would,
in general, allow only of a vindicta spirita-
lis by excommunication in religious mat-
ters. On the other hand, ep. 93, directed
to the Donatist Vincentius, he says, ὁ 10:
Quis vestrum non landat leges ab impera-
toribus datas adversus sacrificia Pagano-
rum 7 ;
THE MELETIAN SCHISM. 217
he imagined he had found, in some detached and misapprehended pas-
sages of the Bible, a false theory, which, in his systematizing mind,
he had framed to himself independently of holy writ ; and thus by his
means the wrong apprehension of such a passage of scripture was estab-
lished as the classical foundation of an error that prevailed for centu-
ries. Thus, in his exposition of the parable of the supper, Luke 14,
paying no regard to the rule which requires that the point of compari-
son should be ascertained and held fast, and affixing too literal a sense
to the word avayxagew, γ. 23, he supposed he found the theory expressed
here that men were authorized and bound to employ force, and compel
men to participate in the supper ;—that is, to enter into communion
with the universal visible church, out of whose pale salvation was not
to be obtained. ‘Thus he laid the foundation of the theory, “ Coge,”
or “ compelle intrare in ecclesiam.”’ ὦ
True, Augustin continually explains, that everything must flow from
the temper of love ; but of what use was this principle, in a theory
which gave full sway to arbitrary will? How often was not the holy
name of love abused by fanaticism and the love of power? It was by
Augustin, then, that a theory was proposed and founded, which, tem-
pered though it was, in its practical application, by his own pious, phi-
lanthropic spirit, nevertheless contained the germ of that whole system
of spiritual despotism, of intolerance and persecution, which ended in
the tribunals of the mquisition.
Il. The Meletian Schism in Egypt.
The second schism which deserves notice in this period was the Me-
letian, which originated in Egypt. The causes whjch led to it were in
many respects similar to those that gave occasion to the Novatian and
to the Donatist schisms. In the very place where the spirit of peace
and of love should have most prevailed, in the prison cells, where many
bishops, companions of the same sufferings, were together, arose a dis- |
pute about the different principles of proceeding with those who had
fallen away during the Dioclesian persecution. There existed among
the prisoners a more rigid party, who maintained, on the same principle
which Cyprian had once advocated under the persecution of Decius,
that all who should have violated, in any way, their fidelity to the Chris-
tian faith, ought to be excluded from the fellowship of the church until
the perfect restoration of peace ; and that if, up to that time, they had
manifested a spirit of sincere contrition, they should then first obtain
forgiveness, according to the measure of their guilt. At the head of this
more rigid party stood Meletius, bishop of Lycopolis in the Thebaid.
The bishop of this city, being a metropolitan, possessed the highest rank
next after the bishop of Alexandria, and frequently stood on the same
level with him in administering the general concerns of the church.”
1 Vid. ep. 93 ad Vincent. ep. 185 ad
Bonifacium. Hi qui inveniuntur in viis et
sepibus, id est, in hzeresibus et schismatibus,
coguntur intrare. In illis qui leniter primo
adducti sunt, completa est prior obedientia :
VOL. II.
in istis autem qui coguntur, inobedientia
coércetur.
2 Epiphan. heres. Meletian. 68. Tov
κατὰ τὴν ᾿Αίγυπτον προῆκων καὶ δευτερεύων
τῷ Πέτρῳ κατὰ τὴν ἀρχιεπισκοπὴν ὡς δὲ
218 THE MELETIAN SCHISM.
Peter, bishop of Alexandria, on the other hand, who, as it seems,
had, like Cyprian in the Decian persecution, for special reasons; with-
drawn himself awhile from his community, agreed in his principles with
the milder party. The pastoral letter on church penance, which, in
the year 306, this bishop addressed to the Egyptian church, breathes
a spirit. of Christian love and wisdom.! He displayed in it a more cor-
rect appreciation of penitence as a moral duty, than generally pre-
vailed ; attaching more importance to the temper than to the external
conduct, and judging with less severity those who, yielding solely to
physical weakness, had been forced, by the anguish of torture, to a mo-
mentary denial of the faith, which they afterwards deeply regretted.
Many Christians had been mean enough to force their Christian slaves
to offer, instead of themselves, under the delusive notion that God’s
tribunal could be deceived like a human one. The bishop. Peter
showed in this case his correct moral judgment, in treating the. slaves
with more lenity than the masters. Inasmuch as the former had been
in a sense constrained by force and fear, their church penance was
therefore to last only a year ; and they were thus to learn, for the future,
to do the will of Christ, and to fear only him. But the masters were to
be subjected to three years of penance, as hypocrites, and because they
had forced their fellow-servants to offer, not having learned from the
apostle Paul that servants and masters have one Lord in heaven. ‘ But
if we all have one Lord, with whom there is no respect of persons, as
Christ is all in all among Barbarians, Scythians, bond, and free, they
should consider what they had done, when they would fain deliver their
own souls, but compelled their fellow-servants to the worship of idols.”
His correct judgment was seen again in the severity which he showed
to those of the clergy who, instead of caring solely for the salvation of
the communities entrusted to them, and waiting, in their appointed
sphere of labor, the will of the Lord, had, in the pride of fanaticism,
abandoned their communities,* and voluntarily given themselves up to
martyrdom, and then— what was frequently the punishment of fanati-
cal presumption — shrunk back and denied in the immediate prospect
of death.
Meletius, at a subsequent period, obtained his freedom; while those
bishops who held other and milder principles of penitence, remained
still im the prison. He exercised his authority as the second metropoli-
tan in Egypt, during the absence of the bishop Peter, whom, being a
confessor, he thought himself entitled, perhaps, to despise, on account of
ἀντιλήψεως αὐτοῦ χάριν. It is ‘also highly
‘ probable, that the szxth canon of the Nicene
council had its origin in this relation; and
its object was to secure as incontestible, to
the bishop of Alexandria, his general pri-
macy over the entire Egyptian church,
which was not to be encroached upon by
the rank of the church of Lycopolis.
1 This letter was received by the Greek
church into the number of the letters incor-
‘porated into the ecclesiastical code of laws,
under the title of ἐπιστολαὶ κανονικαΐ,
2 Προδιδύόμενοι ὑπὸ τῆς ἀσϑενείας τῆς σάρ-
κος.
3 Touching this point he says, 6.10: “So
did no one of the apostles; for the apostle
Paul, who had gone through many conflicts,
and who knew that it was better to depart
and be with Christ, added, ‘ Nevertheless, to
abide in the flesh is more needful for you.’
Since he did not seek his own profit, but
what would be for the good of many, that
they should be saved, he held it to be more
necessary than his own rest, to abide with
the brethren and care for them ”
THE MELETIAN SCHISM. 219
his flight ; he travelled through the whole diocese of the Alexandrian
patriarch, within which, relying on the authority just described, he un-
dertook to ordain, and to excommunicate, according to his own pleasure.
He did not recognize the official power of those to whose charge, as
Periodeute, or visitors, the bishop Peter of Alexandria had committed
the destitute communities. Their different views respecting the proper
mode of treating those who had fallen, or who had become suspected of
denying God in some way or other, was here, too, probably made a sub-
ject of discussion, or at least used as a pretext; since the Meletians
boasted of representing the pure church of the martyrs. Four Egyp-
tian bishops, among the imprisoned confessors, declared themselves
firmly against the arbitrary proceedings of Meletius, who, however,
took no notice of this protestation. The bishop Peter of Alexandria
issued a writing to the Alexandrian church, wherein he bade all to
avoid fellowship with him, until the matter could be more closely inves-
tigated in connection with other bishops; and at length he excluded
him — probably after his own return — from the functions of the epis-
copal office, and from the fellowship of his church, as a disturber of the
peace of the communities. Also, subsequently to the martyrdom of
1 Among the sources which treat of the
origin of the Meletian schism, there is found
a good deal of contradiction. The first
place among these sources is certainly due
to the documents published by Maffei, from
a manuscript of the chapter of the cathe-
dral of Verona. (in the osservazioni lettera-
rie, T. III. Verona, 1738,) which, therefore,
we must make the point of departure in
inquiring into these contradictions. First,
a letter of four imprisoned confessors from
Egypt, the bishops Hesychius, Pachomius,
Theodorus, and Phileas, who subsequently
died as martyrs, (according to Euseb. h. e.
VIII. 13,) addressed to the bishop Meletius.
In this letter it is urged against Meletius,
whom still they call dilectus et comminister
in Domino, that, in violation of the rights
of foreign bishops, and particularly of Peter
of Alexandria, he is reported to have under-
taken to ordain in foreign dioceses ; which,
nevertheless, was altogether at variance with
the ancient laws of the church. It is wor-
thy of remark, that among the grounds of
excuse here mentioned, to which Meletius
might perhaps appeal, that borrowed from
the difference in the principles of penitence
is not cited at all, as if no dispute had as
yet arisen on that point. Next follows the
story, that, when Meletius had received this
letter, he did not answer it, did not even re-
pair to the bishops in prison, nor seek for
the bishop Peter; but, after those bishops had
already perished by martyrdom, that he
came to Alexandria, and there entered into
8. combination with two restless men, who
were anxious to obtrude themselves on the
communities as teachers, of whom Arius
was one, (see the section relating to doctri-
nal controversies.) These discovered to
him two presbyters, nominated by Peter as
church visitors, who had concealed them-
selves. The text now reads: Commendans
eis occasionem Meletius separavit eos, (in
the Greek probably ἀφωρίζεν.) The sense
of the obscure passage is probably this:
Meletius accused these presbyters of having
shown inconstancy to the faith, or cowardice
under the persecutions; he excluded them for
a season from the féllowship of the church,
or suspended them from their offices, recom-
mending to them to improve the opportuni-
ty furnished them by the persecution, of
restoring themselves to their good standing,
by showing steadfastness in confessing the
faith. He himself ordained two as presby-
ters, one of whom was in prison, and the
other had been condemned to work in the
mines, as a reward of their constancy.
.From this narrative it is apparent, that
the disputes which Meletius excited were,
beyond all doubt, connected with his severe
principles as to the proper mode of conduct
during the persecutions ; although no men-
tion is made of this in the preceding letters.
The third document is the letter of the
bishop Peter to the Alexandrian communi-
ty, in which he bids them, on account of
the difficulties with Meletius, to hold no
communion with him. With the account
of the origin of the Meletian controversies
which is to be gathered from these docu-
ments, the report of Epiphanius for the
most part agrees. He represents the sepa-
ration, which had its ground in the differ-
ence of views as to the principles of penance,
to have taken place already in the prison.
Of this the letters above cited do, indeed,
say nothing. The zealous Meletian author
whom Epiphanius makes use of, may per-
220 THE MELETIAN SCHISM.
the bishop Peter, A.D. 311, and in the time of the bishop Alexander,
under whom the Arian controversies broke out, this schism still contin-
ued to exist.
The council of Nice endeavored to get rid of this schism by milder
regulations. ‘The council directed that Meletius, since no confidence
could be placed in his restless character, should reside, simply as a
titular bishop, without active jurisdiction, at Lycopolis ; and for the fu-
ture refrain altogether from bestowing ordination, whether in the cit
or in the country. Yet the clergy who had been already ordained by
him, should remain in possession of their offices, only taking rank after
the others who had received ordination from the bishop of ‘Alexandria.
But if these should be removed by death, before them, then they might
take their places, in case they should, by the vote of the communities,
be found worthy ; and this was confirmed by the bishop of Alexandria.!
But the Meletian schism, which, moreover, found fresh sources of nour-
haps also have represented the affair in an
exaggerated light; still it is quite possible
that a dispute of this sort may have already
occurred, although it had as yet led to no
open rupture. The narrative, which is the
second of those documents of Maffei, inti-
mates this. According to Epiphanius, Me-
letius, when he left the common prison, had
been condemned to labor in the mines. On
his journey to the place of his punishment,
he is represented as having undertaken to
ordain according to his own pleasure. This
story is perhaps false — perhaps it is a ru-
mor which gradually arose and spread
among the Meletian party in order to shield
him against some evil suspicion. The doc-
uments of Maffei seem to presuppose, that
Meletius had then obtained his entire free-
dom. What Epiphanius relates is, on the
other hand, in accordance with the narrative
of Maffei, that as the party of Peter had
styled themselves the catholic church, so
the party of Meletius styled itself the church
of the martyrs; for it is clear, in fact, from
that narrative, that Meletius was fond of
making confessors ecclesiastics. In the
church history of Socrates, I. 24, one ac-
count is especially deserving of notice, that
while the bishop Peter, who afterwards died
as a martyr, had taken refuge in flight,
(φεύγοντος διὰ τὸν τὸτε διωγμόν.) Meletius
usurped the right of ordaining in his dio-
cese. If this account were correct, the ori-
gin of the schism would be still more clear.
- Meletius had, perhaps, remonstrated against
his flight with Peter himself; and imagined
himself to be the more warranted, on that
account, to interfere with his authority.
The narrative of Epiphanius does indeed
conflict with this view; but anachronisms
are no uncommon thing in this author.
From the documents edited by Maffei, the
absence of Peter from Alexandria at this
time is clearly made out indeed, but not his
imprisonment. The bishops who style them-
selves prisoners say nothing, however, of
the imprisonment of Peter; neither does he
mention it himself in his letter. Moreover,
Kusebius, IX. 6, reports that under the per-
secution renewed by Maximinus, in 411,
the bishop Peter was suddenly seized and
beheaded, withou. making mention of any
earlier imprisonment of his. On the con-
trary, from the last words of Peter, which,
to be sure, in the Latin translation, in which
they are preserved to us, sound somewhat
obscure, it might be inferred, that he was
in a state of freedom, and was intending
soon to appoint an ecclesiastical trial in
Alexandria itself: Ne ei communicetis, do-
nec occurram illi cum sapientibus viris et
videam que sunt, quee cogitavit.
With these narratives, however, the story
of Athanasius, Apolog. c. Arianos, § 59,
(which Socrates follows,) in part conflicts ;
that the bishop Petrus (Mederion) ἐπὶ πόλ-
λοις ἐλεγχϑέντα παρανομίαις καὶ ϑυσίᾳ ἐν
Kotvn συνόδῳ τῶν ἐπισκόπων καϑεΐλεν. As
it concerns the παρανομῖαι, this coincides
with the reports above cited; for by them
would of course be understood these very
arbitrary ordinations. In respect to the
second matter, however, the passionate op-
ponents of the Meletians are not to be
wholly believed. It might perhaps be, that
this charge was conjured up at a later peri-
od, by enemies of Meletius. They inferred
from the fact that Meletius had been releas-
ed from the same imprisonment in which
the others had experienced martyrdom, ac-
cording to the same licentious mode of
drawing conclusions we have already no-
ticed, that he must have procured_his free-
dom by consenting to offer. For the rest,
this story of Athanasius, too, seems to go
in favor of the supposition that the bish-
op Peter was still in a state of freedom,
that he subsequently returned to Alexan-
dria, and there convoked a synod against
Meletius. :
1 See the letter of the Nicene council, in
Socrates I. 9.
Ἕ
SCHISM BETWEEN DAMASUS AND’ URSINUS. 221
_ ishment amid the Arian disputes, continued to propagate itself till into
the fifth century.
III. Schism between Damasus and Ursinus, at Rome.
In this schism, we observe the corrupting influence of worldly pros-
perity and abundance, and of the confusion of spiritual things with secu-
lar, on the spirit of the Roman church.! We see what a mighty in-
terest of profane passions was already existing there. The particular
occasion which led to the breaking-out of this schism, lay in the imme-
diate circumstances of the times. The Roman bishop Liberius had, in
356, been deposed from his place, and sent into exile, by the emperor
Constantius, because he would not consent’ to the condemnation of Atha-
nasius.2. The archdeacon Felix, who acceded to the emperor’s wishes,
was elevated to the place of Liberius. But, when the latter subse-
quently consented to subscribe a creed drawn up. at Sirmium by the
Arian party, Constantius permitted him, in the year 358, to return to
Rome ; and he was again at liberty to resume his bishopric. Meanwhile
a distinct party had been formed in the church by a certain presbyter,
named Eusebius ; which party held their conventicle in ‘a private house,
and avoided all fellowship with those who were favored by the party at
court.? Now this party refused to recognize Liberius as bishop, on
account of his recantation, and hence continued to hold their separate
assemblies. Felix was banished ; and he is reported, at least by the
enemies of Liberius,* to have subsequently repented of his transition to
Arianism, and, for this reason, to have led a life of penance at the villa
to which he had withdrawn himself. The meetings of the Eusebian’
party were forcibly broken up; Eusebius was kept confined in a room
of his own house, where the meetings had been heid.
In this ferment of the Roman communities, schisms might easily be
occasioned by the new election of a bishop in the place of Liberius,
after his death, in 366. The real course which matters took, as we
have two opposite reports, which proceed from the opposite parties,
cannot be certainly traced. According to the account of one party,
Damasus was, in the first place, regularly chosen and ordained bishop ;
but, afterwards, a deacon, Ursinus or Ursicinus, who had aspired to the
episcopal dignity, with his party, took possession of the church, which
was called after its builder, or the presbyter who conducted divine wor-
ship in it, the church of Sicininus ;> and caused himself here to be
ordained bishop. According to the other report,’ the party which had
always continued to be faithfully devoted to the bishop Liberius, imme-
diately after his death made choice of Ursicinus. But Damasus, who
1 As Ammianus Marcellinus very justly 4 See vita Eusebii, l. c.
remarks on occasion of this controversy, ὃ Basilica Sicinini.
1. 217, ca: 6 See the accounts in the chronicle of
2 See below, under the head of doctrinal Jerome, in Socrates and Sozomen.
controversies. 7 The introduction to the petition of Mar-
ὃ See the history of the sufferings of this cellinus and of Faustinus, two presbyters
Eusebius, which, it must be allowed, as it belonging to the party of Ursicinus, and of
comes from an enthusiastic admirer, is not Lucifer of Calaris, to the emperors T heo-
entitled to full belief. Published by Baluz, dosius and Arcadius. Published by Sir-
Miscellan. |. II. pag. 141. mond. opp. T. 1.
VOL. II. 19*
τς
222 SCHISM BETWEEN DAMASUS AND URSINUS.
belonged to those who, during the banishment of Liberius, had attached
themselves to Felix, and who had ever aspired after the episcopate,
was nominated bishop by the party of Felix. Thus it cannot be deter-
mined which one of the two competitors had the principal share in-the
disturbances and deeds of violence. Although the truth is, that, when-
ever any matter became an object of zealous contention among the low-
er classes of the passionate and restless Roman people, many things.
might be done which the heads of both parties would gladly have avoid-
ed ; yet it is most probable that neither of the two, in this case, could
be wholly exempted from blame. Damasus appears, moreover, on other
occasions, to have been a proud man.!_ Bishops, who should be minis-
ters of peace, and surrender up everything, sooner than allow any strife
to go on for their own honor, suffered the matter to take such a course,
that a bloody struggle must decide the question, which of the two was
the regular bishop. On one day there were found, in the church
occupied by Ursicinus, which was stormed by the party of Damasus,
the dead bodies of a hundred and thirty-seven men.? Damasus at last
conquered, and Ursicinus was banished. But the division continued
to exist longer ; and, moreover, other foreign bishops were drawn into
it. To suppress this schism, and the quarrels that grew out of it, the
emperor Gratian issued, in the year 3878 or 381, the law which we
have noticed already in a cursory manner, and to which he was moved
by the petition of a Roman council. By this law, he conferred on the
Roman bishop the right of deciding, in the last instance, on the affairs
of the bishops who were implicated in this schism ;? providing, however,
that they should not encroach, by so doing, on the authority of the me-
tropolitans in the provinces.
Remark.—The schisms of Lucifer of Calaris and of Meletius of
Antioch, on account of the intimate connection in which they stand
with the history of doctrinal controversies, are reserved for the fourth
section.
1 See Basil. Cesar, ep. 239, § 2. 8 By this schism, occasion was given for
2 Ammian. Marcellin. 1. 27, ο. 3. the law, although its expressions are gene-
ral.
SECTION THIRD.
CHRISTIAN LIFE AND CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
I. Curistran LIFE.
1. 115 General Character in this Period.
From the changes which, in the preceding sections, we saw taking
place in the relations and circumstances of the church, it would be
easy to form some probable conjecture as to what would be the new
shaping of the whole Christian life in the present period. The vast
numbers who, from external considerations, without any inward call,
joined themselves to the Christian communities, served to introduce
into the church all the corruptions of the heathen world. Pagan vices,
pagan delusions, pagan superstition, took the garb and name of Chris-
tianity, and were thus enabled to exert a more corrupting influence on
the Christian life. Such were those who, without any real interest
whatever in the concerns of religion, living half in Paganism and half
in an outward show of Christianity, composed the crowds that thronged
the churches on the festivals of the Christians, and the theatres on the
festivals of the Pagans.! Such were those who accounted themselves
Christians, if they but attended church once or twice in a year ;? while,
without a thought of any higher life, they abandoned themselves to every
species of worldly pursuit and pleasure. There were multitudes,
especially in the large towns of the East, who, although no longer Pa-
gans, and although they were denominated, in the most general sense of
the word, believers, yet kept back, during the greatest part, or even the
whole of their lives, from the communion of the church ; and only when’
admonished by the actual or apprehended approach of death, in sudden
attacks of sickness, in earthquakes, or the unforeseen calamities of war,
took refuge in baptism. Others, who had received baptism, thought
themselves religious enough, if they attended church on all the festivals
—a practice denounced, therefore, by Chrysostom, as a mere form,
wholly without influence on the inner life ; — custom, but not piety.®
The greater the number of these nominal Christians, the more mis-
chievous became the errors which made them feel secure in this out-
ward Christianity, which confirmed them in the delusive notion that
they could live in sin, and yet obtain salvation. Of this kind were
those many corruptions of purely Christian ideas which we have already
had oecasion to notice in the preceding period ; — false notions of what
1 Augustin. de catechizandis rudib. ὁ 48. τοῦ. Chrysostom. in baptism. Christi T.
Illa turbx implent ecclesias per dies festos Υ͂. f. 523. Savil. J
Christianorum, qu implent theatra per dies 8 Συνήϑειας ἔστιν, οὐκ εὐλάβειας. In An-
solennes Paganorum. nam, H. V. T. V. f. 73.
2 “Απαξ ἢ δεύτερον μόλις τοῦ παντός éviav-
224 CHRISTIAN LIFE.
constitutes faith ; the confounding of the inward thing with the outward
sign; that reliance on externals in religion, which grew out of this very
habit of overlooking what belongs to faith and to the life of faith, and
of confounding the divine realities which faith apprehends, with the
outward, earthly forms which were designed merely to symbolize them.
To sum up the whole here at once, — which it will be our object after-
wards to explain more fully in detail,— the mischief presents itself in
the delusive persuasion that any man, no matter what his life, could
make sure of being delivered from divine punishment, and introduced
into the community of the blessed, by the charm of outward baptism ;
which mistaken confidence in the magical cleansing and atoning efficacy
of baptism encouraged numbers to persevere to the last in the indul-
gence of their lusts, hoping to avail themselves of this as a final reme-
dy. It presents itself again in the delusive persuasion respecting the
sanctifying effects of the communion, even when received without suit-
able preparation, and only on the principal festivals; in the delusive
persuasion respecting the merit of an. outward attendance on church,
of pilgrimages to certain spots consecrated by religious remembrances,
of donations to churches, of alms-giving, especially to ecclesiastics and
monks, — no respect being paid to the manner in which what was thus
bestowed had been acquired, nor to the disposition with which it was
given. Instead of bearing the cross in their hearts, men relied on the
magical power of the outward sign. Instead of soberly carrying out
the doctrines of the gospel in their lives, they folded up the scroll on
which it was written, to wear about the neck as an amulet.)
Mischievous was the influence resulting from the doctrinal controver-
8168, inasmuch as they were conducted with an inconsiderate zeal ; in-
asmuch as the leaders of the contending parties sacrified everything
else to the one interest of a formal, orthodox theory ; inasmuch as the
attention of men was directed away from the true essence and from the
demands of practical Christianity. Mischievous was the influence,
also, of the unevangelical notion, which continually gained ground, of a
distinct outward priesthood, confined to a single class of men, — whereby
the original idea of the priestly character belonging in common to all
Christians, ever became more completely obscured and suppressed.
That which should be the concern of all Christians, and which should
be required of them all, as spiritually-minded men, was supposed to be-
long exclusively to the spiritual order and to monks ; and whoever was
exhorted to lead a more sober and holy life, was ever ready to reply:
“1 am of the world; and secular men, if they are believers, if they
abide in the communion of the church, and do not lead an extremely
vicious life, will doubtless reach heaven ; though they may not attain to
those higher seats which are reserved for the saints. I have not left
1 Jerome, after having spoken of the
Pharisees: Hee in corde portanda sunt,
non in corpore. Hoc apud nos superstitio-
sz muliercule in paryulis evangeliis et in
crucis ligno et istiusmodi rebus usque hodie
factitant. In c. 23, Matth. 1. 1V..ed. Marti-
anay, IV. fol. 109. Chrysostom, ad pop.
Antiochen. H. 19, § 4, Τ.. 11. ed. Montfau-
con, f. 197. Αἱ γυναῖκες καὶ τὰ μικρά παιδία
ἀντὲ φυλακῆς μεγώλης εὐαγγέλια. ἐξαοτῶσι
τοῦ τραχήλου.
FORMALISM. 225
_ the world. Iam no clergyman, no monk. Of such alone these loftier
virtues can be required.”
At the same time, however, it would be wrong to judge, from the
great mass of nominal Christians, the character of the whole church.
‘The many examples of individual church-teachers, who were truly pene-
trated with the gospel spirit, and earnestly labored to promote it, may
rightly be considered as testifying to what was within the church itself;
for, without the Christian spirit under which they had been trained and
educated, they assuredly never could have become what they were.
So, too, in many of the appearances of Monasticism, notwithstanding
all its aberrations, there was still expressed a warm Christian spirit,
which must have come originally from the church.
It was natural, however, that the bad element, which had outwardly
assumed the Christian garb, should push itself more prominently to
notice in public life. Hence it was more sure to attract the com-
mon gaze, while the genuinely Christian temper loved retirement, and
created less sensation; except in those cases, which were not unfre-
quent in this period, where opposition elicited the hidden Christian life,
and made it appear brighter in the conflict. ‘ Watch the oil-press,”
said Augustin to those who saw nothing but the evil swimming on the
surface ; “‘ watch it a little more narrowly, and do not look at the scum
alone that floats on the top. Only seek, and you will find something.’”!
At the present time, the relation of vital Christianity to the Christi-
anity of mere form resembled that which, in the preceding period, ex-
isted between the Christianity of those to whom religion was a serious
concern, and Paganism, which constituted the prevailing rule of life.
As, in the earlier times, the life of genuine Christians had stood out in
strong contrast with the life of the pagan world; so now the life of such
as were Christians not merely by outward profession, but also in the
temper of their hearts, presented a strong contrast with the careless
and abandoned life of the ordinary nominal Christians. By these lat-
ter, the others, to whom Christianity was a serious concern, and who
placed it neither in a formal orthodoxy, nor in a round of outward cere-
monies, were regarded in the same light as, in the earlier times, the
Christians had been regarded by the Pagans. They also were re-
proached by these nominal Christians, just as the Christians generally
had been taunted before by the Pagans, with seeking to be righteous
overmuch. Such is the picture which Augustin has drawn from the
life of these times. ‘¢ As the Pagan who would be a Christian, hears
rude words from the Pagans; so he, among the Christians, who would
live a better and more conscientious life, hears himself abused by the
Christians themselves. He who would be sober among the intemperate,
chaste among the incontinent ; he who would honestly serve God among
those who consult astrologers ; he who would go nowhere but to church
among those who flock to the silly shows, must hear rude language from
Christians themselves, who will say : ‘ You are really a very great and
righteous man, a second Elijah or Peter ; — you must have descended
1 Enarrat. ψ. 80, § 1.
290. CHRISTIAN LIFE. PIOUS MOTHERS.
from heaven.’”’? In another place, he says :2 ‘ As soon as a man be-
gins to live for God, to despise the world, to abstain from revenging in-
juries, from seeking after riches, or any earthly goods; to look down
upon all these things, and to think of nothing but God, and to walk
faithfully in the way of Christ, — not only the Pagans say of him, ‘ He
is mad ;’ but what should vive us greater concern, because ‘it shows
that, even in the church, many sleep and will not be awakened, he
must expect to hear Christians themselves remark: ὁ What is the man
about ? What can have entered into his head?’”?? Such individuals of
the laity as were distinguished by their piety from the great mass
of nominal Christians, and from the worldly-minded members of the
clergy, often excited the jealousy of these latter, and had to suffer
their persecutions.* Such examples were too troublesome ; — they
were too severe censors of morals.
We have already observed, in describing the spread of Christianity,
where we adduced the testimony of Pagans themselves, as unimpeach-
able evidence of the fact, that pious Christian females, presenting pat-
terns of genuine wives and mothers, often furnished a beautiful contrast
to the prevailing depravation of manners and reckless pursuit of earth-
ly things, to be found in the families of Pagans, or of mere nominal
Christians. From such wives and mothers, the true religious instruc-
tion of the husband, or at least the pious education of the children,
often proceeded. By them, the first seeds of Christianity were planted
in the souls of those who afterwards produced great effects as teachers
of the church. The pious Nonna, by her prayers and the silent influ-'
ence of the religion which shone through her life, gradually won over
to the gospel her husband Gregory, who had belonged to an unchristian
sect, and he became a devoted bishop. Their first-born son, whom
they had long yearned after, was carried, soon: after his birth, to the
altar of ‘the church, where they placed a volume of the gospels in his
hands, and dedicated him to the service of the Lord. The example of
a pious education, and this early consecration, first received from his
mother, of which he was often reminded, made a deep impression on
the son; and he compares his mother with Anna, who consecrated
Samuel to God. This impression abode upon him, while exposed, dur-
ing the years of his youth, which he spent at Athens, to the contagion
of the Paganism which there prevailed. This son, the distinguished
church-teacher Gregory of Nazianzum, says of his mother, that her
emotions, when dwelling on the historical facts-connected with her faith,
overcame all sense of pain from her own sufferings: hence, on festival
days, she was never known to be sorrowful, and death surprised her
while praying before the altar.° The pious Anthusa of Antioch retired
itaque eos habent, et quasi cervicibus suis
1In ψ. 90, T. 1. § 4.
21n w. 48, T. Π. § 4.
8 In ψ. 48, TU IL. § 4.
4 So says Jerome: Vere nunc est cernere, in
plerisque urbibus episcopos sive presbyteros,
si laicos viderint hospitales, amatores bono-
rum, invidere, fremere, quasi non liceat fa-
cere quod episcopus non faciat, et tales esse
laicos damnatio sacerdotum sit. Graves
impositos ; ut a bono abducant opere, variis
persecutionibus inquietant. In ep. ad Tit.
» Gs Lee TEV £417,
5 Gregor. Nazianz. orat. 19, f. 292, ond
the epigrams of Gregory Nazianzen, in
Muratori anecdota Greea Patav. 1709,
pag. 92.
ASCETIC TENDENCY. 221
_ from the bustle of the great world, to which she belonged by her con-
dition, into the still retreat of domestic life. Having lost her husband
at the age of twenty, from regard to his memory, and a desire to devote
herself wholly to the education of her son, she chose to remain a
widow ; and it was owing in part to this early, pious, and careful edu-
cation, that the boy became afterwards so well known as the great
church-teacher, John Chrysostom. Similar was the influence exerted
on the education of her son, by the mother of Theodoret. In like man-
ner, Monica, by her submissive, amiable, and gentle spirit, softened the
temper: of a violently passionate ‘husband ; and, while she had much to
suffer from him, scattered the seeds of Christianity in the young soul
of her son Augustin, which, after many stormy passages of life, brought
forth their fruit in him abundantly. ‘To make their children early ac-
quainted with the holy scriptures, was considered, by such mothers, as
a task which belonged peculiarly to them.
2. Ascetie Tendency, and the Monastic Life which proceeded from it.
In the preceding period, we saw that the tendency to ascetism was
promoted, in the more earnest Christian minds, by the opposition to the
pagan depravation of manners. Now, as it was the case in the present
period, that, owing to the great multitude who outwardly professed
Christianity, especially in the large cities, this depravation obtruded it-
self on these more earnest souls, even under the external forms of Chris-
tianity; and as within the outward church itself so marked a contrast
had arisen between those who were Christians in spirit and disposition,.
and those whose Christianity consisted only in profession and ceremo-
nial performances, the necessary consequence was,.that, by pushing this
opposition, apprehended in too outward a manner, to an undue extreme,
this ascetic separation from the world was carried to a still greater ex-
tent; as indeed it is quite evident that the first appearances of this sort
manifested themselves in the vicinity of large cities, which were seats.
of corruption.
In the preceding period, the ascetics were accustomed to live singly,
each according to his own inclination, without any specific form of union,
within the precincts of the church to which he belonged. In Egypt it
was customary for the ascetics to settle down singly in the country, at
no great distance from some village, where they supported themselves
by the labor of their own hands, and devoted the surplus to charitable
purposes.? It was first in this present period, when the previously ex-
1 Daughters also were early made famil-
jar with such portions of the holy scriptures
as were deemed to be especially suited to
the capacity of childhood. They were
taught to commit Psalms to memory. See
Gregor. Nysseni vita Macrinz opp. tom. II.
f. 179. What was generally supposed to
constitute the pattern of a Christian woman,
may be seen from the description which
Nilus gives of Peristera: constant study of
the holy scriptures, (μελέτη τῶν ϑείων Aoyi-
ὧν διηνεκῆς,) fervent prayer proceeding from
a broken heart, liberal support of the poor;
care for the burial of the dead, who were
poor or strangers; active pity. for all in
distress, reverence for the pious, care for the
monks, providing for their support to the
satisfaction of all their bodily wants, so that
they might devote themselves to their call-
ing without disturbance. Vid. Nil. Perister.
e. III.
2 Athanas. vita 5. Anton. Ἕκαστος τῶν
βουλομένων ἑαυτῷ προσέχειν, οὐ paxpay τῆς
ἰδίας κώμης κατὰ μόνας ἠσκεῖτο.
928 MONACHISM. ITS ORIGIN.
isting germs of all tendencies of life attained to a more settled and de-
finite mode of growth, that the freer form of the ascetic life shaped it-
self into Monasticism —a phenomenon of great importance, as well on
account of the influence which it had already, in this period, on the evo-
lution of Christianity, and of the Christian and church life in the East ;
as on account of the vast influence which it had in later times on the
culture of the Western nations.
As it is true of this whole ascetic tendency, that, although it might
find some foothold in a partial and one-sided apprehension of Christian-
ity, yet it cannot be regarded as a phenomenon peculiarly Christian ;
so is it also true that this particular product of the ascetic tendency
cannot, in itself considered, be regarded as a phenomenon peculiar to
Christianity, and springing simply out of the spirit of this religion.
Something like it is in fact to be found in other religions, (as for exam-
ple in Buddhaism;) and particularly in those countries of the Kast
where Monasticism first developed itself, the way was already prepared
for it in the circumstances of the climate, and in the prevailing habits
of feeling, which were, in some measure, due to these circumstances.
In Egypt, the birth place of Monasticism, something like it had, in
fact, already appeared among the Jews, in the sect of the Therapeute ;
and in Palestine, where Monasticism early found its way, the Essenes,
with many other societies of a similar kind, had preceded it. Monasti-
cism, on the contrary, was at variance with the pure spirit of Chris-
tianity ; inasmuch as it impelled men, instead of remaining as a salt to
the corrupt world in which they lived, outwardly to withdraw from it,
and to bury the talent which otherwise they might have used for the
benefit of many. But though Monasticism was not a form of life that
sprang originally and purely out of Christianity, yet there can be no
doubt that by Christianity a new spirit was infused into this foreign
mode of life, whereby with many it became ennobled, and converted
into an instrument of effecting much which could not otherwise have
been effected by any such mode of living.
In the fourth century, men were not agreed on the question, as to
who was to be considered the founder of Monasticism, whether Paul or
Anthony. If by this was to be understood the individual from whom
the spread of this mode of life proceeded, the name was unquestionably
due to the latter; for if Paul was the first Christian hermit, yet he
must have remained unknown to the rest of the Christian world, and,
without the influence of Anthony, would have found no followers.1_ Be-
fore Anthony, there may have been many who, by inclination or by
peculiar outward circumstances, were led to adopt this mode of life ;
but they remained, at least, unknown. ‘The first whom tradition —
which, in this case, it must be confessed, is entitled to little confidence,
and much distorted by fable — cites by name, is the above-mentioned
Paul.? He is said to have been moved by the Decian persecution, which,
1 Jerome, in his account of the life of fables which were circulated about Paul;
Paul, says very justly of Anthony: Nontam but even his own biography of him is not
ipse ante omnes fuit, quam ab eo omnium free from them, and it gives no distinct pic-
incitata sunt studia. ture of the man.
2 Jerome himself speaks of the absurd &
PAUL AND ANTHONY. 229
“τ no doubt, raged with peculiar violence in his native land, the Thebaid
in Upper Egypt, to withdraw himself, when a young man, to a grotto
in a remote mountain. By degrees he became attached to the mode
of life he had adopted at first out of necessity. Nourishment and
clothing were supplied him by a palm tree that had sprung up near the
grotto. Whether everything in this legend, or, if not everything, what
part of it, is historically true, it is impossible to determine. According
to the tradition, Anthony, of whom we shall presently give a more de-
tailed account, having heard of Paul, visited him, and made him known
to others. But as Athanasius, in his life of Anthony, is wholly silent
as to this matter, which he certainly would have deemed an important
circumstance, — though he states that Anthony visited all ascetics who
were experienced in the spiritual life, — the story must be dismissed as
unworthy of credit.
Anthony, whom we may regard, therefore, as the father of Monasti-
cism, sprang from a respectable and wealthy family in the village of
Coma, in the province of Heracleopolis (magna) a city of the Hepta-
nome, bordering on the Thebaid.!- He was born about the year 261.
He received a simple, pious education, but no literary training ; ---- ἃ
thing, indeed, hardly known in the old Coptic families, into which the
influence of the Alexandrian Hellenism had not penetrated. The Cop-
tie language was his vernacular tongue; he would have been obliged to
learn the Greek in order to make himself master of the Greek culture ;
and as often happens with such men, in whom the contemplative bent
of mind predominates, he had no disposition to learn a foreign lan-.
guage. He would have been under the necessity, moreover, of resorting
to the school in which instruction in the Greek language was given ; but,
owing to the more serious, retiring disposition for which he was early
distinguished, he avoided the society of noisy boys.2 From the first,
too, he took little interest in matters of worldly learning; but a deep
religious feeling, and a craving after the intuition of divine things, were _
1 Sozom. I. I. ¢. 13.
2 Athanasius says of him, in the account
of his life, § 1: Τράμματα μάϑειν οὐκ ἢνεσ-
xéro. We might take this to mean that
Anthony did not learn how to read at all.
Thus Augustin understood it, who, in the
prologue to his work, de doctrina Christia-
na, § 4, says of Anthony, that without
knowing how to read, he committed the
Bible to memory by merely hearing it read.
But this is inconsistent with what Athana-
sius says of him in the same paragraph.
Τοῖς ἀναγνώσμασι προσέχων, τὴν ἐξ αὐτῶν
ὠφελείαν ἐν ἑαυτῷ διετῆρει. This might,
perhaps, still be understood as_ referring
solely to those portions of scripture which
he heard read in the church. But after-
wards too, where he is speaking of Antho-
ny’s ascetic life, he says of him: Kat γὰρ
προσεῖχεν οὕτως TH ἀναγνώσει. It would be
possible, indeed, still to understand Atha-
nasius, not as speaking in this passage of
Anthony’s private exercises, but only ex-
plaining why it was that to him the invita-
VOL. I. 20
*
tion of scripture, to pray without ceasing,
was so constantly present; namely, because
he had every thing which he had heard read
from the scriptures, so deeply imprinted on
his memory. If the passage is so explain-
ed, it might be understood here also as
speaking simply of the public reading at
church, and it would be unnecessary to sup-
pose that Anthony knew how to read.
This interpretation, however, is at any rate
not the most simple. But even supposing
that Anthony had first read the Bible him-
self in the Coptic translation, yet it follows,
from the narrative of Athanasius, that at a
later period he could dispense entirely with
the written scripture, because its words were
so deeply impressed on his memory as to
be constantly present to him: Καὶ λοιπὸν
αὐτῷ τὴν μνήμην ἀντὶ βιβλίων yiverdat
Thus the statement of Augustin, and what
we shall afterwards cite from a conversation
between Anthony and a man of learning,
may be reconciled with the above account
230 MONACHISM.
the predominant characteristics of the youth as he grew up to maturity.
He was a constant attendant at church, and what he read himself in
the Bible, as well as what he heard read in the scripture lessons at
church, became deeply imprinted on his soul: it was to him matter for
spiritual nourishment, which he constantly carried with him, so that m
his subsequent years he could wholly dispense with the written scrip-
tures. Between his eighteenth and twentieth years he lost his parents ;
and on him alone devolved the care of a young sister, left with himself
-an orphan, and of all the affairs of the family. These cares may, per-
haps, have proved irksome to him, unsuited to his peculiar tempera-
ment. Once, as he was walking in the church, — which, for the purpose
of elevating his heart to God in silent devotion, he frequently visited,
even at seasons when there was no service, — his imagination set vividly
before him the contrast between a man perplexed with the care of
earthly matters, and the primitive apostolical community, in which, as it
was usually conceived, no one possessed any earthly property of his
own. Occupied with such thoughts, he once attended a meeting of
the church; and it so happened that the gospel concerning the rich young
man was read before the assembly. Anthony considered those words
of the Saviour to the rich young man, which he heard in this particular
state of mind, as words particularly addressed from heaven to himself.
And as the language was understood by him, in common with many of
his time, in a sense which Clement of Alexandria had already shown to
be incorrect (see Vol. I., Sect. II., p. 279,) as if it had reference, not
to the inward disposition alone, but to the outward deed ; he persuaded
himself that he was thus called to make an outward renunciation of all
his earthly goods and possessions. The considerable landed estates
which belonged to him, he gave to the inhabitants of his village, under
the condition that, for the future, they would trouble neither him nor
his sister with demands for the payment of the public taxes and other
claims of that kind.!. He sold everything that was moveable, and dis-
tributed the avails to the poor, reserving only the smallest portion of it
for hig sister. While listening a second time, during divine service, to
those words of our Lord which bid us take no care for the morrow,
taking the language once more in too literal and outward a sense, and
not according to the spirit and connection of the whole, he now gave
away to the poor the small remainder of his property which he had re-
served particularly for the maintenance of his sister, that he might free
himself entirely from all cares about earthly things. He placed his sister
to be educated with a society of pious virgins,” and, settling down near his
' paternal mansion, began a life of rigid asceticism. He heard of a ven-
erable old man, who was living as an ascetic on the border of a neigh-
boring village. He sought him out, and made him his pattern, fixing
his own residence in the vicinity of the village; and, whenever he
chanced to hear of approved ascetics livmg anywhere in those districts,
he visited them, abode with them for a season, and then returned to
his former places He supported himself by the labor of his own hands,
and distributed what he did not need for himself to the poor.
1 Vita, § 2: ‘Iva εἰς μὴδ᾽ ὅτιουν ὀχλησώσιν αὐτῷ Te καὶ τῇ αδελφῇ. 2 Παρϑενῶνι
ANTHONY. 231
Anthony wanted a right conception of the Christian renunciation of
property. He failed of the right conception of supreme love to God,
which, instead of destroying man’s natural feelings, would include them
in itself, would refine, sanctify, and ennoble them. Starting with these
wrong views, he struggled forcibly to suppress the thoughts and feel-
ings of love which drew him to his sister and other members of his
family. He wanted to forget everything that bound him to the earth ;
but nature claimed her rights: these feelings and thoughts would intrude
upon him, in spite of himself, and disturb him in his meditations. In
feelings which God himself planted in man’s heart, he imagined that
he saw a temptation of the adversary, when he should rather have per-
ceived in his own self-will and presumption, which aspired to rise above
the natural feelings of humanity, a perversion of the pure divine im-
pulse, and a temptation of the ungodly spirit, which vitiated and dis-
turbed in him the pure longing after holiness. . Moreover, the lower
impulses and energies of nature were excited to greater activity, the less
they were employed. Hence, in his solitude, he had to endure many
conflicts with sense, which in some active vocation, demanding the exer-
tion of all his powers, might perhaps have been avoided. The tempta-
tions he had to battle with were so much the more numerous and pow-
erful, as he was given to idle self-meditation, as he busied himself in
fighting down the impure images that were constantly rising up from
the abyss of corruption within his heart, instead of despising them, and
forgetting himself in worthier employments, or in looking away to the ever-
lasting source of purity and holiness. At a later period, Anthony, with -
a conviction grounded on long years of experience, acknowledged this,
and said to his monks: ‘‘ Let us not busy our imaginations in painting
spectres of evil spirits: let us not trouble our minds as if we were lost.
Let us rather be cheerful and comforted at all times, as those who have
been redeemed; and let us be mindful, that the Lord is with us, who
has conquered them and made them nothing. Let us ever remember .
that, if the Lord is with us, the enemy can do us no harm. ‘The spirits
of evil appear different to us, according to the different moods of mind
in which they find us. If they find that we are weak-hearted and cow-
ardly, they increase our fears by the frightful images they excite in us,
and then the unhappy soul torments itself with these. But if they find
us joyful in the Lord, occupied in the contemplation of future blessed-
ness and of the things of the Lord, reflecting that everything is in the
Lord’s hand, and that no evil spirit can do any harm to the Christian,
they turn away in confusion from the soul which they see preserved by
such good thoughts.’’4
At that time he was for overcoming the evil spirits, in whom he be-
held the enemies of his holy endeavors, by still stricter regimen of life.
He betook himself to a certain grotto in the rock at some distance from
the village, which served the purpose of a tomb (called in the East a
mausoleum.) Here, as it is probable, by excessive fasting, and by ex-
haustion from his inward conflicts in this unnatural place of abode, he
1 Athanas. vit. Anton. § 42.
232 MONACHISM.
brought himself into states of an over-excited imagination and nervous
derangement, in which he fancied he had received bodily harm from
the spirits of darkness. He fell at last into a swoon, and was conveyed
back to the village in a state of unconsciousness. At a later period,
he retired to a still more distant mountain, where he passed twenty
years amidst the ruins of a dilapidated castle. After this, he yielded
to the entreaties of those who desired to have him for their guide in
the spiritual life. He gave himself up to the men who sought him out.
Many joined themselves to him, and, under his guidance, trained them-
selves to the abstemious life of hermits. The deserts of Egypt became
filled with the cells of these eremites. Many flocked to him, from dif-
ferent countries, partly to see the wonderful man, partly for advice and
consolation, and to obtain the cure of diseases (particularly of those
fits which men were in the custom of tracing to the influence of malig-
nant spirits) by the virtue of his prayers. Parties in strife submitted
their matters of dispute to his arbitration. He exhorted all to sacrifice
everything to the love of Christ; striving to make them feel the love
of God, who spared not his only-begotten Son, but gave him up for all.
To escape the wonder of the multitude, and deliver himself from the
throng of men, of all conditions, that disturbed him in his prayers and
meditations, Anthony betook himself to a more distant solitude among
the mountains. Certain Nomadic Saracens, who wandered over this
district, were seized with reverence at the impression of his appear-
ance, and brought him bread. ‘This, together with the fruit of some
date trees which he found on the spot, sufficed for his nourishment.
But as soon as the monks whom he had left behind him, discovered the
place of his retreat, they provided him with bread. Yet Anthony was
resolved to save them this labor. He procured some implements of
agriculture, sought out a spot, near the mountain, capable of tillage,
and well watered, and sowed it with grain, from which he harvested
what sufficed for his support. As he was afterwards visited here, too,
by strangers, he raised a supply of vegetables, that he might have
wherewith to refresh those who had made the long and wearisome jour-
ney to find him. He wove baskets, and exchanged these for such arti-
cles of nourishment as were brought to him.
He could easily acquire the fame of being a worker of miracles ;
since many, particularly of those who were thought to be possessed of
evil spirits, were indebted to his prayers, and to the impression of tran-
quillity and peace which went forth from him, for the soothing of the
tumultuous powers which had agitated their inner being. But he
pointed those who applied to him for help, or had been indebted to him
for it, away from himself to God and Christ. Thus, to a military offi-
cer who applied to him for the healing of his daughter, he said: “I
also am a man, like thyself. If thou believest in the Christ whom I
serve, only depart, and pray to God in thy faith, and it shall be done.””!
Usually, he exhorted the suffering to patience. They were to know
that the power of healing belonged neither to him, nor to any other
man, but was the work of God alone, who wrought it when and for
1 Vit. Anton. § 48.
ANTHONY. 238
- whom he pleased. Thus those who left him without having obtained
the bodily relief they expected, learned from him a lesson more valu-
able than any deliverance from bodily ills, —submission to the divine
will! He exhorted his monks not to attribute too great worth to mi-
raculous gifts and wonderful cures ; and not to estimate, by these, the
degree of progress in the Christian life, but to esteem holiness of liy-
ing still higher. ““ ΤῸ do wonders,” he told them, ‘‘is not our work,
but the Saviour’s. Hence he said to his disciples: ‘ Rejoice not that
the spirits are subject to you, but rather rejoice that your names are
written in heaven:’ for that our names are written in heaven is a wit-
ness of our virtue, and of our life ; but to expel evil spirits is the grace
of the Saviour, which he has bestowed on us.” 2
It was only on extraordinary occasions, that Anthony made his ap-
pearance at Alexandria ; and then his appearance always produced a
great effect. Thus it was, when, in the year 311, the emperor Maxi-
min renewed the persecution in Egypt. ‘True, Anthony did not think
it proper to give himself up as a victim ; but neither did he fear dan-
ger, in firing the courage of other Christians to unwavering confession,
in manifesting love to the confessors in the prisons and the mines. His
example and his words did so much, that, to hinder them, the gover-
nor issued a command for all monks to leave the city. Other monks,
who, on this occasion, had also come into the city, concealed them-
selves; but Anthony appeared in public, yet no one dared to touch
hin.
A second time, in the year 352, when he was a hundred years old,
he made his appearance in Alexandria, to counteract the spread of Ari-:
anism, which was then supported there by the power of the state. His
appearance made, at that time, so great a sensation, that Pagans them-
selves, ana even their priests, came to church, for the purpose of see-
ing the man of God, as they themselves called him.? People belong-
ing to the pagan ranks pressed forward with the rest, to touch the
garments of Anthony, in hopes of being healed, if they could only do -
that. It is said more Pagans were converted to Christianity during
the few days of his residence in Alexandria, than during a year at other
times.
Many sayings of this remarkable man, which haye come down
through the oral tradition of his disciples, lead us, indeed, to recognize
in him a great soul. The favor of princes, by which so many, in other
respects distinguished men of the church, have still allowed them-
selves to be corrupted, could not touch the mind of Anthony. When
the emperor Constantine and his sons wrote to him as their spiritual
father, and begged of him an answer, it made no impression on him.
He said to his monks: “ Wonder not that the emperor writes to us,
for he is a man; but wonder much rather at this, that God has writ-
1L.c. ὁ 56. by virtue of their greatness of mind, could
21). ς. § 38, dispense with scholastic culture ; whose flash-
8 What Athanasius relates, § 70, is con- es of spirit might serve instead of syllo-
firmed by the reverence which a Synesius, gisms; and places him by the side of Her-
while yet a Pagan, shows towards Anthony. mes and Zoroaster. In his Dion. ed. Petay
He names him among the rarer men, who, f. 51. -
20ηῈ
VOL. II.
234 MONACHISM.
ten his law for men, and spoken to them by his own Son.” At first it
was with some difficulty he could be prevailed on to receive the letter,
since he knew not how to answer a letter of that sort. But when the
other monks represented to him that they were Christian princes, and
that they might look upon his neglect as a mark of contempt, and
thereby take offence, he allowed the letter to be read. In his answer,
he first congratulated them that they were Christians, and next told
them what he considered would be most conducive to their welfare ;
that they ought not to look upon their earthly power and glory as a
great thing, but rather to think of the future judgment; that they
ought to know that Christ is the only true and eternal King. He ex-
horted them to philanthropy, to justice, and to care for the poor.}
Once there came to him a learned man of the Pagans, and made
merry with him, because he could not read. He asked him how he
could endure to live without books. Anthony thereupon asked him which
was first, ‘‘ spirit or letter.” The learned man replied: ‘ Spirit is the
first.’ ‘‘ Well,” said Anthony, ‘the healthy spirit, then, needs not
letters. My book is the whole creation: this book lies open there be-
fore me, and I can read in it when I please, — the word of God.” When
others were ridiculing the faith of the Christians, Anthony asked them
which, from the very nature of the case, went first in the knowledge of
all things, and especially in the knowledge of God, and which gave
the more assured conviction, ‘* the conclusions of reason, or the faith
which comes from immediate contact.’ When they said, the last, he
rejoined: ‘‘ You are right ; for faith proceeds from a state of the soul,
(a certain determination of the whole inner life.) What we know by
faith, that you seek to prove by argument; and oftentimes you cannot
even express that which we behold in the spirit.”
Anthony, who, in the early years of his monastic life, had tormented
himself so much with temptations, and been able to find no rest in con-
stant selfcontemplation, observed afterwards, from his own experience :
«( This is man’s great work, to take his guilt upon himself before God,
and expect temptations till his latest breath. Without temptation no
one can enter into the kingdom of heaven.” ‘To an abbot, who asked
him what he ought to do, he replied: ‘‘ Trust not in your own righte-
ousness, and regret not what is already past.’ ®
Severe to himself, Anthony was mild to all others. A monk, for
some offence, had been expelled from his cloister, and his brethren were
unwilling to receive him back. Anthony sent him back again to his
cloister, with these words to the monks: ‘‘ A ship stranded, lost her
‘cargo, and was with difficulty drawn to the shore ; but ye are for sink-
1L.c. § 31.
2 Vit. Anton. § 73. Socrates hist. eccles.
IV. 23. Perhaps this story was floating
before the mind of Synesius, and he merely
confounded Armmun with Anthony, when
he said of the former: Οὐκ ἐξεῦρεν, ἀλλ᾽
Expive χρείαν γραμμάτων, τοσοῦτον αὐτῷ τοῦ
νοῦ περίην, f. 48.
ὃ Ἡ dt ἐνεργείας πίστις.
4 Ἢ μὲν γὰρ πίστις ἀπο διαϑέσεως ψυχῆς
γίνεται.
5 He would probably say, men should not
spend so much time in reflecting on their
sins, instead of getting free from themselves,
and striving continually forward in the
work of holiness. (See Apophthegm. patr.
§ LV. Coteler. monument. eccles. Gree. T. I.)
ANTHONY. HILARION. 285
‘ing again at sea what has been safely brought into harbor.’! To Didy-
mus, the learned superintendent of the catechetical school at Alexan-
dria, who, from his youth up, was blind, he said, on meeting with him
during his last residence in Alexandria: “ Let it not trouble you that
you are in want of eyes, with which even flies and gnats can see ; but
rejoice that you have the eyes with which angels see, by which, too,
God is beheld, and his light received.”? At the age of a hundred
and five years, feeling the approach of death, and, with entire con-
sciousness, calmly and cheerfully awaiting the end of his earthly ca-
reer, he was solicitous that the exaggerated reverence of the Egyp-
tians towards him should not convert his remains into an object of su-
perstition. It was their custom, after the ancient manner, to embalm
the bodies, especially of those who were venerated as saints, as mum-
mies, take them into their houses, and place them there on small
couches. The superstitious veneration of reliques might here easily
find a foothold. To guard against this, Anthony, urgently recommended
to his monks to keep the place of his burial concealed, lest his body
might be dug up by others, and preserved in the manner above de-
scribed ; for he wished not to be more highly honored than the patri-
archs, and Christ himself, who had all been buried.
Anthony gave to his age a pattern, which was seized with love and
enthusiasm by many hearts that longed after Christian perfection, and
which excited many to emulate it. Disciples of Anthony, belonging to
Greek and to old Egyptian families,\spread Monachism throughout
every part of Egypt; and the deserts of this country, to the borders |
of Lybia, were sprinkled with numerous monkish societies and monkish
cells. From hence Monachism spread to Palestine and Syria, where
the climate was most favorable to such a mode of life, and where, too,
even at an earlier period, — among the Jews,? — much that was ana-
logous had already existed. Anthony, indeed, was visited, not only by
monks belonging to Egypt, but also by monks from Jerusalem.* The —
person who most contributed to the promotion of Monachism in Pales-
tine was Hilarion. Born in the village of Thabatha, or Thanatha, in
Palestine, four miles south of Gaza, he resided, while a youth, for the
purpose of study, at Alexandria, when the fame of Anthony moved
him to seek out the great anachoret ; and, after having spent several
months in Anthony’s society, he returned to his native country, with
the intention of pursuing there the same mode of life.6 Anthony,
without any conscious design of his own, had become the founder of a
new mode of living in common; for it had, in truth, happened, of its
1Z.c¢. § 21.
2 Socrat. 1. ο.Ψ
8 We might refer here to the example of
the Essenes, of a Banus. Joseph. de vita
sua, § 2. At this time Nilus speaks of Jew-
ish monks, in the Tractatus ad Magnam,
c. 39, opuscula, Rome, 1673, f. 279. ᾿Ιου-
daiwy τινὲς μὴ ἀπαιτοῦμενοι ἀκτημοσύνην
παρὰ τοῦ νόμου, ἑκουσίως ταύτην ἠσπάσαντο,
ἐν σκήναις κατοικήσαντες. It may be, as
Nilus seems to suppose, that this was at that
time a new appearance among them, and
perhaps had arisen from an emulation of
the Christian monks; but may also have
been a mode of life which had come down
from ancient times, and which was incor-
rectly thought to be something new.
4 See Palladii Lausiaca, c. 26, biblioth
patrum parisiensis, T. XIII. ἢ 939.
5 Hieronymi vita Hilarionis. Sozomen
II. 14.
296 MONACHISM. PACHOMIUS.
accord, without any special efforts of his, that persons of similar dis-
position had attached themselves to him, and, building their cells
around his, made him their spiritual guide and governor. Thus arose
the first societies of Anachorets, who lived scattered, in single cells or
huts, united together under one superior. But, independent of Antho-
ny, an individual made his appearance in Egypt, who brought together
the monks in one large connected building, and gave to the entire.
monastic life a more regular and systematic shaping. This was Pacho-
mius, the founder of the cloister life. The societies of the Anachorets,
who lived in a certain union with each other in single cells, were called
Aaipa, (laure ;) a term which, derived from the ancient Greek adjec-
tive λαῦρος, denoted properly a large open place, a street; the connect-
ed buildings, in which monks dwelt together, under a common superior,
were called κοινόβια, (coenobia, ) μοναστήρια, (monasteria,) ¢povrioripia.! Pa-
chomius, at the beginning of the fourth century, when a young man,
after having obtained his release from the military service, into which
he had been forced, attached himself to an aged hermit, with whom he
passed twelve years of his life. Here he felt the impulse of Christian
love, which taught him that he ought not to live merely so as to pro-
mote his own growth to perfection, but to seek also the salvation of his
brethren. He supposed — unless this is a decoration of the legend —
that, in a vision, he heard the voice of an angel giving utterance to the
call in his own breast, — it was the divine will that he should be an in-
strument for the good of his brethren, by reconciling them to God.?_ On
Tabennz, an island of the Nile, in Upper Egypt, betwixt the Nomes
of Tenthyra and Thebes, he founded a society of monks, which, during
the lifetime of Pachomius himself, numbered three thousand, and after-
wards seven thousand members ; and thus went on increasing, until, in
the first half of the fifth century, it could reckon within its rules fifty
thousand monks.? This whole association was called a κοινόβιον, coeno-
bium,—a term which, originally designating the entire whole of a
monkish society, although distributed through several buildings, was
afterwards transferred to single cloisters ; of which, too, it was usually
the case that each one embraced a distinct society. The entire body
of monks stood under the guidance of Pachomius ; and afterwards his
successors, the abbots of the cloister in which the institution had its
origin, continued to be the heads of the whole order.* He was regard-
ed as the superior of the whole ccenobium, the abbot or abbas-general,
17Thus Evagrius, hist. eccles. 1. I. c. 21,
distinguishes φροντιστήρια καὶ τὰς καλοῦμε-
“ vag λαύρας: and in the life of the abbot
Sabas, which Cyril of Scythopolis._compos-
ed, we find a distinction made between
λαῦραι and κοινόβια, § 58, in Coteler. eccle-
sis Grace monumenta, ΤᾺ 111. The name
μοναστήρια appears here as uniting the
meaning of both. Anthony himself, in the
ancient life of Pachomius, § 77, names the
latter as the founder of the more closely
connected societies of monks: Kara τὴν
ἄρχην, ore μοναχός γέγονα, οὐκ ἤν κοινόβιον,
ἀλλ᾽ ἑκάστος τῶν ἀρχαίων μοναχῶν μετὰ τὸν
διώγμον κατὰ μονάς ἠσκεῖτο, καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα ὁ
πάτηρ ἡμῶν ἐποιῆσε τούτο τὸ ἀγάϑον παρὰ
κυρίου. Even before Pachomius, a person
by the name of Aotas (’A@7a¢) made an at-
tempt, but without success, to found some
similar institution. Acta-Sanctorum mens.
Maj. T. III. in the Appendix, § 77.
2 Vit. Pachom. § 15.
8 Pallad. Lausiaca, c. VI. 1. ¢. 909, also
c. 38, f.957. Hieronymi preefat. in regulam
Pachomii, § 7.
4 The first example of a like rule, which
was introduced into the later congregations
and orders of monks.
INSTITUTION OF C@NOBIA. 237
(the Hebrew and Syriac word for father ;) or, as he was styled in
Greek, the archimandrite ;1 and, at certain seasons, he made visita-
tions to the several cloisters. The entire monkish society was distribu-
ted, according to the vartous degrees of progress which its members
had attained in the spiritual life, into several classes, twenty-four in all,
after the number of letters in the alphabet; and each of these classes
had its own presiding officer, as to each also was assigned its particu-
lar labors. They employed themselves in the ordinary monkish avoca-
tions ; such as weaving baskets, for which they made use of the rushes
of the Nile, fabricating mats or coverings, (iad, ) not neglecting, how-
ever, other kinds of business, such as agriculture, and ship-building. At
the end of the fourth century, each cloister possessed a vessel of its
own, built by the monks themselves. Palladius, who visited the Egyp-
tian cloisters about this time, found, in the cloister of Panopolis, —
which also belonged to this association of monks, and contained within
it three hundred members, — fifteen tailors, seven smiths, four carpen-
ters, twelve-camel drivers, and fifteen tanners.2 Each cloister had its
steward, (οἰκονόμος, who provided for the bodily wants of all, and with
whom the fabrics, when finished, were deposited ; and all these stew-
ards were placed under a general steward of the whole association,
(the μέγας oixovéuoc,) who was stationed at the principal cloister. The
latter had the oversight of the imcome and expenditure of the entire
coenobium ; to him were given over all the products of monkish labor.
He shipped them to Alexandria, where they were sold, to provide
means for purchasing such stores as the cloisters needed ; and whatever .
remained, after these wants were supplied, was distributed among the
poor, the sick, and the decrepit, of this populous, though impoverished
country. A part also was sent to the prisons.? ‘Twice in the year,
on the feast of Easter, and in the month Mesori, (about the season of
our August,) all the superiors of the single cloisters met together in
the principal cloister. At the last meeting, they brought in reports of —
the administration of their office. It was at this time, the reconcilia-
tion of all with God and with each other was celebrated.4
No person who wished to be taken into the society of the monks was
admitted at once ; but he was first asked, whether he had not commit-
ted a crime, and was not seeking refuge, among the monks, from civil
penalties ; whether he was his own master, and therefore warranted to
decide on his mode of life ; whether he deemed himself capable of re-
nouncing his property, and everything he called his own. He must,
in the next place, submit to a period of probation, before he could be
received into the number of regular monks.® He was adopted, on
pledging himself to live according to the monastic rules.6 Pachomius
also founded, at this early period, cloisters of nuns, which received the
means of support from the cloisters of the monks.’
1 From the word μάνδρα, the fold, flock. 4 Vit. Pachom. § 52. Hieronym. 1. 6. § 8.
Vid. Nilus, 1.11. ep.52, μοναστήριον = μάνδρα. 5 A novitiate, according to the earlier
2 Lausiac. ¢. 39. practice of the Essenes.
8 Vit. Pachom. I. 6. § 19, § 73, § 85. Hie- 6 The ὁμολόγησις, called afterwards the
ronymi prefat. in regul. Pachom. Lausia- votum, vow, ὁ 66. Hieronym. preefat. § 49.
ca, f. 957. 7 Lausiaca, f. 300
238 MONACHISM. MORBID EXTRAVAGANCES.
The enthusiasm for the monastic life having spread with such vio-
lence; and vast numbers of men, possessing different dispositions, and
utterly without the inward strength and tranquillity necessary to en-
dure the solitary, contemplative habits of the ¢loister, having withdrawn
into the deserts ; it could not be otherwise, than that the sudden and
uncalled-for adoption of the anachoret mode of life, the extravagances”
of asceticism, and its accompanying pride, should give birth to many
wild sallies of the fanatical spirit, and many mental disorders. We find
examples of anachorets, who were so persecuted by their tormenting
thoughts, as to end their lives by suicide.! We hear of many who,
after having pushed their abstinence and self-castigation to the utmost
extreme, imagined they had reached the summit of Christian perfection,
and might now soon dispense altogether with those means of grace
which other weak Christians needed. They despised assembling with
others for devotional purposes, and even for the communion. Finally,
they imagined that they were honored with special visions and revela-
tions. The end of it all was, that they fell into a state of complete in-
sanity ; or else what had hitherto inspired them appeared at once to
be self-delusion. From the temptation to seek an entire estrangement
from the ordinary feelings of humanity, into which they had forcibly
wrought themselves, they sunk back to entire abandonment and vul-
garity. The sensual impulses, which, in the intoxication of pride, they
had succeeded, for a short time, wholly to suppress, broke forth with
still greater violence. They not only rushed back to their ordinary
earthly pursuits, but now went to the opposite extreme of giving them-
selves up to every sensual enjoyment.
1 Examples of temptation to suicide,
among the monks, amid their inward con-
flicts, occurred frequently. See that of
Stagirius, to whom Chrysostom addressed his
beautiful letter of consolation; —a young
man of a noble family, who, feeling the
emptiness of life in the high world. was so
much the more strongly attracted by the
ideal of the monastic order; but through the
sudden change of life, which his mind was
not mature enough to bear, was thrown into
violent fits of mental disease, and so led to
imagine himself tempted of Satan to com-
mit suicide. Nilus, 1. II. ep. 140, f. 182,
says that many monks who could find no
escape from the inward temptations which
assailed them in their solitude, filled with
‘desperation, plunged the knife into their
bodies, or threw themselves headlong from
precipices. Many fancied that in this way
they should die martyrs. See Gregor. Na-
zianz. Carmen 47, ad Hellenium opp. T. II.
flog:
Θνήσκουσιν πολλοῖς προφρονέως ϑανάτοις,
Αὐτοὶ ὑπὸ σφετέρης παλάμης καὶ γάστρος
ἀνάγκῃ,
(They died by voluntary starvation.)
Oi δὲ κατὰ σκοπέλων βένϑεσὲ τ᾽ HE βρόχοις
Sometimes, after having been
Μάρτυρες ἀτρεκίης" πολέμου δ᾽ απὸ καὶ στο-
νόεντος
Χαιροῦσιν βιότου τοῦδ' ἀπανιστώμενοι.,
(They rejoice to be redeemed from this inward
conflict and this melancholy life. )
For the purpose of warning them against
such dangers from the inward conflicts of
the soul, the abbot Pachomius said to his
monks: “If suggestions to blaspheme God
present themselves to one who wants a tru-
ly prudent and collected spirit, they will
soon plunge him to destruction. Hence,
many have destroyed themselves; some, be-
reft of their senses, have cast themselves
from precipices, others laid open their bow-
els, others killed themselves in different
ways: for it is something very bad, if one
who understands the evil does not point it
out to such persons ere it becomes rooted.”
Vit. Pachom. § 61.
% Hence Nilus, who was a man of large
inward experience, gave to one who asked
him why many of the monks had so sadly
fallen, the following answer: “ Priding
themselves on their ascetic perfection, they
lost, by their presumption, the protection of
good spirits, and the evil ones became their
masters.” Καταβάλλουσι τὸν πεφυσιωμέ-
vov εἰς πορνείαν ἡ κλόπην ἤ φονοκτονίαν ἥ
μοιχείαν. Nil. 1. I. ep. 326
FANATICAL PRIDE. VALENS. HERON. 239
᾿ tossed to and fro, from one extreme to the other, they at length arrived,
out of these hard trials, to the knowledge of themselves, and to a dis-
creet piety.1 We see a mark of true wisdom, in the practice of en-
deavoring to heal those who, through the pride of asceticism, had fal-
len, or were in danger of falling, into imsanity, by forbidding them to
engage in such efforts any longer, and obliging them to live after the
manner of ordinary men.
The history of incipient Monachism is rich in remarkable phenome-
na, conveying the most important instruction on the subject of the de-
velopment of religious morality, and on the manifold states of the inner
life. We will here introduce a few examples, to illustrate the remarks
which have just been made.
A monk, by the name of Valens, belonging to a monastic order in
Palestine, had become proud of his great ascetic efforts.. Some friends,
perhaps according to a usual custom, having made a present of certain
articles of food to the monks, the presbyter Macarius, who presided
over the society, sent a portion to each in his cell. But Valens, with
scornful language, bade the bearer carry it back to Macarius. The
latter perceived the danger which threatened the sanity of Valens’s
mind. The next day he went to him, endeavored to bring him to a
sense of his dangerous self-delusion, and entreated him to pray God.
that he might be healed. As he refused to listen to all advice, his case
continually grew worse. He had visions, and imagined the Saviour
himself had appeared to him, in a form of light, testifying his approba-
tion of so holy a life. When, on the next day, the monks assembled .
to unite in participating of the holy supper, Valens refused to unite
with them. “1 need not the supper,” said he, ‘for I have this day
seen the Lord Christ himself.” The monks found it necessary to bind
the insane man. For the space of a year, they had recourse to prayer,
and to a tranquil mode of life, directly opposed to his previous ascetic
habits, for his recovery ; proceeding on the principle, that one extreme .
must be cured by resorting to the other.”
Another, by the name of Heron, belonging to Alexandria, who was
a member of the monastic society in the desert of Nitria, had carried
the mortification of his senses to such extent, that he could travel thirty
miles into the desert, under the scorching rays of the sun, without food
or drink, repeating constantly, as he went, certain passages of the Bible
from memory ; and that he often lived, for three months, on nothing but
the bread of the eucharist, and wild herbs. This man became so proud
as to fancy himself superior to all others. He would be advised by no
one; affirming that, as Christ had said, “‘ Let no man on earth be
called your master,”’ it was men’s duty to acknowledge no earthly supe-
rior. He also came, at length, to consider it beneath his dignity to
take any part in the communion. Finally, he felt within him such a
fire, such a restless fever, that he could no longer endure to remain in
1 Which, in spiritual therapeutics, was 3 Ἔυχαις καὶ ποικίλῃ ἀδιαφορῆσει καὶ ἀπρα-
designated by the name διάκρισις (discretio:) γωτέρῳ βίῳ τὸ οἰῆμα αὐτοῦ καϑελόντες, κα-
Διὰ τῶν πειρασμῶν δοκιμασϑεὶς, ἐρχέται πρὸς Yoo λεγέται: τὰ ἐναντία τοῖς ἐναντίοις ἰάματα
τὴν πασῶν τῶν ἀρετῶν ὑψηλοτέραν διακρίσιν. Laus. c. 31.
240
his cell.1 He fled from the desert to Alexandria, and there plunged
into a directly opposite mode of life. He was a frequent visitor at the
theatre, the circus, and the houses of entertainment; he ran into all
sorts of extravagance : these threw him into a severe sickness, in which
he came to his senses, and was seized once more with the craving after
the higher life he had lost. Afterwards he found a calm and cheerful
death.” ;
Another, by the name of Ptolemy, settled down by himself on a spot
lying beyond the Scetic desert in Egypt, known under the name of the
“Ladder,” («Aiuas,) where no man had ever dared to dwell, because the
only spring which could provide water for this spot in the parched wil-
derness, lay fourteen miles distant. There he persevered to dwell
alone, for fifteen years, collecting, in earthen vessels, during the months
of December and January, the dew, which at this season plentifully
covered the rocks in this country, and, with the moisture thus preserved,
quenching his thirst. This unnatural mode of life was too much for
his nature. The attempt at a proud estrangement from all human pas-
sions was the means of its own punishment. In striving to deny his
human nature, he lost all firm hold of real existence; he grew scepti-
cal about his own, about the existence of God, and of all things else ;—
everything appeared to him like a phantasm. ‘The thought seized him,
that the world had sprung into existence of itself, without any Creator ;
that it moved in a constant show, without any substantial ground of ex-
isting things. In desperate insanity, he forsook the desert, wandered
about dumb from one city to another, frequented the places of public
resort, and gave himself up to all manner of gluttony.?
Besides these individual examples of monks, whose spiritual pride
led them into such self-delusion that they imagined themselves superior
to the ordinary means of grace, and, by virtue of the extraordimary
revelations and visions which they received, enabled to dispense with
all human instruction and help from others, we see this spirit of fanati-
cal pride carried to the pitch of self-deification, extending itself with
Monachism in a widening circle, like a contagious disease, through
Mesopotamia, Syria, and as far as to Pamphylia. Thus arose a sect,
which, according to the expressed reports of the ancients, had its origin
in the Syrian Monachism, and which, moreover, wears on its front the
undeniable marks of its origin. This sect propagated itself from the
second half of the fourth century down into the sixth, and, in its after
effects, reached perhaps still further ; that is, if we may suppose this
sect stood in any outward connection with later appearances which
bear, in many respects, a strong affinity to it. They were called, some-
MONACHISM. PTOLEMY.
1 This, too, was no unfrequent occurrence,
that the monks, to escape their inward temp-
tations, forsook their cells, and ran about
from one place to another. Nilus says of a
person of this description: “ He will change
his place, but not the anguish of his heart.
He will rather nourish and increase his
temptations. L. I. ep. 295.
21, ¢. 39.
8 Lausic. 1. c. c. 33. Similar cases must
have. often occurred, as we may see from
Laus. ¢. 95.
4 In case the Euchites of the fourth cen-
tury stood in any immediate connection
with the Euchites of the eleventh century,
and the so-called Bogomiles of the twelfth.
Without question, the affinity may also be
accounted for from an inward analogy,
΄“
THE EUCHITES. 241
‘times, after the name of those who at different times were their leaders,
Lampetians, Adelphians, Eustathians, and Marcianists; sometimes
after various peculiarities supposed to be observed in them ; Euchites,
(εύχιται) Messalians,! on account of their theory about constant inward
prayer; also Choreutes, (xopevra/,) from their mystic dances 2 Enthu-
siasts, (ev9ovoaorai,) on account of the pretended communications which
they received from the Holy Spirit.
Most probably, it was in the first place a practical error, without
any tendency to theoretical heresies. They were monks who fancied
themselves to have reached the summit of ascetic perfection ; and, as
they now enjoyed such intimate communion with the Holy Spirit, such
complete dominion over sense, as to be no longer under the necessity
of making the same efforts as before, supposed that, delivered from the
yoke of law, they needed only to follow the impulse of the Spirit, with-
out rule or discipline. They would allow nothing to disturb them in the
purely contemplative repose, the state of inward prayer, which they
represented as being the highest of attainments. They discarded all
the occupations of common life, — all manual labor, by which the monks
were used to provide for their own support and for the relief of others,
but which they regarded as a degradation of the higher life of the spirit.
They were for living by alms alone, and were the first* mendicant
Friars.
From this practical error proceeded, by degrees, all the prin-
ciples and doctrines peculiar to the Euchites.
which is found to exist between mystic sects
of this sort. It is to be observed, however,
that Theodoretus already describes the
εὐχίτας ἐν μοναχικῷ προσχήματι τὰ μανιχαί-
wy νοσοῦντας. Hist. religios. ὁ. II]. ed.
Halens. T. III. p.1146. To be sure, The-
doretus may also have held, on no good
grounds, analogous doctrines of this monk-
ish mysticism to be Manichean or Gnostic ;
or he may have, through mistake, confound-
ed Manicheans who concealed themselves
under the monkish garb, with the ordinary
Euchites. The fact that the monks had their
imaginations constantly busied with the im-
ages of evil spirits persecuting them, may
have furnished ground for the introduction of
the Manichean, as it did really give rise to
the Euchitian doctrines. See, respecting the
spread of Manicheism among the monks,
Vita Euthymii, § 33. Coteler. monumen-
ta ecclesie Grace, T. II. p. 227.
1 Signifying the same, according to the
Chaldee Poyn.
2 Comp. vol. I. the Therapeute.
8 All these different names are found in
Timotheus de receptione hereticorum, in
Coteler. monumenta ecclesie Grece, T.
III. The name μαρκιανίσται is from Mar-
cian, an exchanger, under the emperors
Justin and Justinian. The name Eustathians
is worthy of notice. It might lead us to
think of Eustathius of Sebaste, from whom,
in fact, a fanatical monkish bent derived its
origin; and the more, as Photius, Cod. 52,
VOL. II.
who had old synodal acts for his authority, _
calls this Eustathius, from whom they bore
the name, αἰδέσιμος.
4 Epiphanius says distinctly, h. 86, that it
was the monkish spirit carried to excess, a
misconception of what the gospel means by
renunciation of the world, in fact the false
notion lying at the bottom of the whole sys-
tem of Monachism, pushed to the utmost
extreme, which led to this error of the
Euchites. “Eoyor δὲ τὸ βλαβέρον τοῦτο φρο-
νῆμα ἀπὸ τῆς ἀμετρίας τῶν τινῶν ἀδέλφων
ἀφελείας. This direction of the monkish
spirit is attacked also by Nilus, in the Trac-
tatus ad Magnam, ὁ 21 and 22. He there
very justly remarks that the faculties of
sense, in men in the full vigor of age, being
employed on nothing, they must operate so
much the more powerfully to disturb and
confuse the higher life; that consequently
the prayer, which they used as a pretext,
must in their case suffer the greatest inter-
ruption. He derives this false tendency
from Adelphius of Mesopotamia, (the Eu-
chite who has already been mentioned,) and
from Alexander, who had been the author
of disturbances for some time in Constan-
tinople, (perhaps that Alexander who was
the founder of a monkish order in which
prayer and singing were kept up without
intermission, day and night, the members
of the order continually relieving each oth-
er. They were called Accemetes, (dkoyn-.
ται.)
242 MONASTICISM.
Their fundamental principle was this, that every man, by virtue of
his origin from the first fallen man, brings with him into this world an
evil spirit, under whose dominion he lives. Here we recognize again
the monkish theory about evil spirits that awaken in men the sensual
desires. All ascetic discipline, all the means of grace in the church,
are without power to deliver the soul from the tyranny of this evil
spirit. ‘These can only avail to check the single outbreaks of sin, while
the man still remains under its dominion. He is, therefore, under the
necessity of a continual struggle with sin; and stands trembling before
it, under the discipline of the law. They combated the prevailing®
notions about a magical transformation by virtue of baptism, adhering,
however, to the ordinary view in another respect. “ Baptism,” said
they, “like shears, may, indeed, clip away the earlier sins, (procure
the forgiveness of past transgressions,) but the root of the evil still re-
mains behind, from which, therefore, new sins will continually germi-
nate ; for the evil spirit still retains, in fact, his dominion over the
508}. Ὁ But what could not be brought about by any outward means,
or by any ascetic discipline, might be effected, however, by the true
inward prayer. Whoever attained to this, would thereby be delivered
from the power of the evil spirit that had governed him from his birth,
whose departure would be sensibly perceived ; and he would enter, in a
way sensibly manifest to his own feelings, into communion with the di-
vine Spirit. He would put on the divine raiment, and at once become
inaccessible to all temptations of sin. That freedom from the affections
of sense, to the attainment of which others sought to fight their way
through a course of severe ascetic discipline, he would immediately
reach by this inward prayer. Hence, too, such a man was no longer
under the necessity of fasting or of self-mortification. Freed from the
law, he might abandon himself, with confidence, to all those exposures
which others must avoid through the fear of temptation. Owing to the
immediate divine revelation which he would now enjoy, such a person
stood exempted from all further need of instruction from others, all
further need of human guidance.? By this doctrine, the essence of the
monastic life of that period, which was founded upon obedience and
subordination, would necessarily be destroyed. For, of course, to the
Euchites, their prayer supplied the place of all other modes of devo-
tion and means of grace ; and they looked upon themselves as exalted
far above other Christians, who were still in bondage to sense, and
under the yoke of the law. They were persuaded that the true
spiritual sacrament of the supper was only among themselves ; the
‘ outward ordinance of the church they represented to be a matter of in-
difference. Although they believed that they could derive no benefit
from it, yet they jomed in the celebration of it, in order that they
1 Timoth. l.¢. 2. Ὅτι τὸ dyiov βαπτίσμα
οὐδὲν συμβάλλεται εἰς τὴν τοῦ δαίμονος Tov-
τοῦ διώξιν, οὐδὲ γὰρ ἔστιν ἱκανὸν, τὰς ῥίζας
τῶν ἁμαρτίων τὰς συνουσιῶμενας ἀρχῆϑεν
τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ἐκτέμειν. Theodoret. heeret.
fab. IV. 11. Ξύρου δίκην ἀφαιρεῖται τῶν
ἁμαρτημάτων τὰ προτέρα, τὴν δὲ ῥίζαν οὐκ
ἐκκόπτει τῆς ἁμαρτίας. By this we must
supply what is wanting in the less accurate
account of Theodoretus, hist. eecles. LV. 10.
2 Theodoret. IV. 10, ἢ. 6. ‘Timoth. de
receptione hareticor. ὁ 9. Joh, Damascen.
heeres. ὁ 6.
THE EUCHITES. 248
‘might still be considered members of the Catholic church. They also
discarded, in particular, sacred music ; as their mystic tendency would
naturally lead them to do! That they sought after revelations in
dreams, we may easily believe, according to the unanimous testimony
of their opponents; since many indications of the tendency to that en-
thusiasm which looked for divine suggestions in dreams, is elsewhere
to be found also in this period. Their adversaries, moreover, report of
them, that they were, for this reason, much given to sleep; which is
possibly an exaggeration, but it may also be true ;? for it is easy to see,
that such a monotonous direction of the soul, so much at variance with
the essential constitution of human nature, must have often passed off
into sleep and dreams.
The mystical bent of this sect led to various other errors, which are
often found connected with similar appearances. In various ways, we
see, connected with such appearances, the habit of confounding sensual
with spiritual feelings, particularly sensual with spiritual love, — a habit
which has often been attended with the most pernicious consequences.
Thus, too, the Euchites compared the spiritual marriage of the soul to
its heavenly bridegroom, in a grossly sensual manner, with an earthly
union.®
The pride of the mystical sects, and the tendency of idealism to re-
duce everything to a subjective form, led frequently to a pantheistic
self-deification. This seems to have been the case also with the Euchi-
tes. They asserted, that they had become partakers of the divine na-
ture. The Deity was able to assume all possible forms, and did actu- ©
ally assume all forms, particularly for the purpose of communicating
himself to such souls as were fitted to receive him: ‘The three hy-
postases of the Triad,” they taught, “‘ are nothing but different forms
of revelation of the one divine Essence, — the Trinity resolves again
into Unity.”* Thus they were led to look upon the appearances of the
angels in the Old Testament, upon the patriarchs and prophets, and
upon Christ himself, as only different forms of the manifestation and
revelation of the one divine Essence ; and they were persuaded that,
by virtue of their own spiritual perfection, all was concentrated in them.
1 This is seen from a fragment of the
tract of the monophysite Severus, written
against the work of the Euchite Lampetios,
which was entitled the Testament. We gath-
er from the opposite position taken by the
former, that the Euchites approved only of
a ὕμνειν ἐν καρδίᾳ. See Wolf. anecdota
Greca, T. III. p. 182; and this inference is
confirmed by the acts of a synod held in
opposition to the Euchites, cited by Pho-
tius, 6. 52. Of this Lampetios, it is here
said: ‘Ori τούς τὰς ὥρας ψώλλοντας ἐξεμυ-
κτηρίζε καὶ διέσυρεν, ὡς ὑπὸ νόμον ἔτι τυγχα-
νόντας.
2 Cases at least occur elsewhere, of monks
who, in despair from not being able to es-
cape temptations in singing and prayer,
sought relief in immoderate sleep. See
Nil. ITT. ep. 224.
8 Timoth. 1V. Τοιαυτῆς αἰσϑάνεται ἡ ψύχη
κοινωνίας γινομένης αὐτῇ παρὰ τοῦ οὐρανίου
νυμφίου, οἵας αἰσϑώνεται ἡ γύνη ἐν τῇ συνου-
σίᾳ τοῦ ἄνδρος.
4 Timoth. § 6. Λεγούσιν ὁτι τρεῖς ὑπο-
στάσεις εἰς μίαν ὑπόστασιν ἀναλύονταϊ καὶ
μεταβαλλόνται, καὶ ὅτι ἡ ϑεία φύσις τρέπεται
καὶ μεταβώλλεται εἰς ὅπερ ἀν ἐϑέλῃ, ἱνὰ
avyKpady ταῖς ἑαυτῆς ἀξίαις ψύχαις, ο. XI.
Ἢ ψύχη τοῦ πνευματίκου μεταβάλλεται εἰς
τὴν ϑείαν φύσιν. The Kuchites having
propagated themselves for a long period,
and mysticism being in its own nature an
inconstant thing, it is quite possible that dif-
ferent parties may have arisen among them;
and thus the party which asserted these things
of the Trinity, may not have been the same
with the one which taught that those who
were enlightened by their prayer had a sen-
suous intuition of the Trinity
244 MONASTICISM.
If angel, patriarch, prophet, Christ himself, were named to such a per-
gon, his reply, in each case, was, ‘That am I myself.” + Perhaps they
were, likewise, by their mystical idealism, led to deny the reality of
Christ’s miracles, to explain them as only ‘sytbolical ; ; since such facts
in the sensible world seem to have been regarded by them as wholly
unimportant to the religion of the spirit.?
It should be mentioned also, as among their peculiar opinions, that
they considered fire as the creative principle of the universe, —an.opin-
ion of which we find many traces also in other theosophic sects.
It was sometimes objected to the Kuchites, that they pushed their
Antinomianism, and their mistaken freedom, to such an excess, as even
. to permit those who were called perfect to abandon themselves to every
vice. ‘True, we ought not to give too much credit here to the report
of adversaries ; yet it must be allowed, that this practical error did not,
at least, lie so very remote from their principles and their spirit. Their
presumptuous self-confidence, their defiance of the frailties of human
nature, might thus, perhaps, meet with its own punishment; and we
have, in fact, noticed above, in the case of the monks, many examples
of transition from the extreme of ascetic severity to an unbridled licen-
tiousness of morals.
As it was a principle held by the Euchites, in common with many
similar sects, that the end sanctifies the means, and that it was right to
conceal from common men, who were enslaved to their senses, the
higher truths, which they were not yet prepared to receive, and to affect
an assent to their opinions; it was, on this account, difficult to discover
the members of this sect, and to seize upon any clue to their doctrines.
Flavianus, bishop of Antioch, (after the year 381,) condescended to
act according to the same principle, with a view to find them out, pun-
ish, and expel them. He managed to enter into a conference with their
superior, Adelphius, as if he were entirely of the same opinion. with
him, and thus enticed him to a confession, which he then made use of
against Adelphius himself, and his whole sect.’
A similar spirit of ascetic fanaticism threatened to spread far and
wide, when, after the middle of the fourth century, the zeal for the
monastic life was diffused by Eustathius, afterwards bishop of Sebaste
in Armenia, through Paphlagonia, and the districts of Pontus; and
there are, indeed, many indications which serve to show that some out-
ward connection existed between the Euchites and the Eustathians,—a
fact which the name Hustathians, given also to the Euchites, seems to
_ confirm. ‘The synodal writings, and the canons of the council of Gan-
gra, the metropolis of Paphlagonia,* which was assembled for the pur-
1 Kpiphan. 1]. ¢.
2 Yet this cannot be certainly inferred
from the opposite position of Severus.
Wolf. anecdota, T. III. p. 17.
᾿ ὃ Theodoret, ἢ. 6. IV. 12,
4 There are, in relation to this matter, two
disputed points, viz. the question whether
the Eustathians, (οἱ περὶ Evoradiov,) against
whom this council was directed really sprung
from Eustathius of Sebaste, and to what
time the meeting of this eouncil is to be
assigned. The first question admits of be-
ing more easily settled than the last. All
the facts are in favor of an affirmative an-
swer to this question. Not only is the tes-
timony of Socrates, II. 43, and of Sozomen,
III. 14, to this effect, but the whole: is in
perfect accordance with the character of:
Eustathius, who was a zealous ascetic, and
the first preacher of the ascetic 116. ἴῃ. the
THE EUCHITES. 245
pose of opposing these errors, furnish us the best means of informing
ourselves with regard to their character; while they present, at the
same time, a remarkable memorial of the healthful spirit of Christian
morals, which set itself to oppose this one-sided tendency of asceticism.
Wives forsook their husbands and children, husbands their wives, serv-
ants their masters, to devote themselves to the ascetic life.’ Several,
who had placed too great confidence in themselves, fell into immoral
practices. They despised marriage and the domestic life. Those who
wore the ascetic garb, fancied that at once they had become perfect
Christians, and looked down with contempt on others who went about in
their ordinary apparel. They refused to take any part in the sacra-
ment of the supper, where married priests had consecrated the elements.
Where, in the country, no churches had as yet been erected, and di-
vine worship was held in private houses, they refused to join either in
prayer or in the communion, because they held that no dwelling was
holy enough for such purposes, the owners of which lived in wedlock.
They celebrated their private worship in separate assemblies, ascribing
to that worship a sacredness which was wanting to the church assem-
blies.?
As these fanatical tendencies, which grew out of the ascetic enthu-
siasm, threatened to be the cause of so much disturbance to the church
life, it became necessary to devise some means of protecting it against
this danger, and of guiding the ascetic life, which was highly prized, in
a course of development which would be salutary to the church, and
consistent with good order. For this purpose, in the first place, particu-
lar encouragement was given to the regular institution of the cenobitic
life ; and next, it was attempted to bring this into closer connection
with the whole body of the church, and into a condition of greater de-
pendence on the episcopal supervision in each diocese.? In the ceno-
countries around the Pontus, and had form-
ed a whole school. See Basilii Cesareens.
ep. 228, (Here we find mentioned, in fact,
the ascetic dress, to which the Eustathians,
according to the report of the council of
Gangra, ascribed a peculiar sanctity — the
ξένα ἀμφιάσματα, that is, according to the
letter of Basilius, τὸ παχὺ ἱματίον, καί ἡ
ζώνη καὶ τῆς ἀδεψήτου βύρσης τὰ ὑποδήματα.)
and 6ρ. 119. Epiphanius, heres. 75. We
perceive also in the letters of Basilius, a
trace of opposition to the new monastic
spirit in the districts of the Pontus. At
least at Neocxsarea, where the attachment
to old usages prevailed, the spreading of
the ascetic life among men and virgins was
brought up as an objection against Basilius
of Cxsarea. See ep. 207 ad Neocexsareens.
2
But the second question belongs among
the most difficult of decision. If we sup-
pose, with Pagi, who follows Socrates and
Sozomen, the council to have been held
A.D. 360, then there is something strange
in the manner in which the council name
Eustathius, since he was then bishop ; unless
we suppose that the council did not consider
VOL. II. 21"
Eustathius, who by a party had been de-
posed, as really a bishop, and thought them-
selves justified to treat him contemptuously. ἢ
But, if we assume that the council was held
at some earlier date, it is singular again,
that no allusion to it is to be found in the
letters of Basil. Still the case may have
been, that Basil, on account of the relation
in which he stood with the party by whom
this council was held, did not recognize it as
a legal one.
1 The same was the case among the Eu-
chites. Joh. Damase. p. 997.
2 The same was true among the Euchites.
Joh. Damase. pag. 37.
8 The examples of such men as Basil of
Cesarea, and Chrysostom, teach this. The
life of Basil of Casarea, of Gregory of
Nazianzum, and the doctrinal controversies
of the fourth and fifth centuries, show what
divisions in the churches could grow out of
the influence of the monks. ‘The council
of Chalcedon decreed, in its fourth canon,
that no person should be allowed to found
a cloister without permission of the bishop,
and that the monks in town and country
should be obedient to the bishop.
240 MONASTICISM.
bitic life, everything was subjected to one guidance, after a regular
plan ; to each individual was assigned his particular place, and sphere
of action; obedience and humility, the unconditional submission of the
will of the individual to that of the superior, who should be obeyed,
even to the utter sacrifice of one’s own inclinations, — these stood in
the highest rank of monkish virtues. Every extravagance was to be
immediately checked, and reduced within proper limits, by the guidance
of the superior. Whoever felt himself, in any way, restless and un-
easy, was not only required not to conceal it from his leaders, but to dis-
close to them his whole heart, that, through their experience and wis-
dom, he might receive advice and consolation ; lest the evil, concealed
in his own breast, should spread wider, and at last become incurable.
Tt must be admitted, that, in the monastic life, the essence of true hu-
mility, which has its foundation within, in a temper proceeding from the
sense of dependence on God, was often misconceived, and outward hu-
miliation before men substituted in the place of irward humiliation be-
fore God: A servile spirit grew out of this confusion of ideas. But
it is not to be denied that order, strict discipline, subjection of the indi-
viduals to the laws of the whole, and wise guidance, were absolutely
necessary to keep in the right course a multitude of men, of different
humors, and often rude and uncultivated. Good and pertinent are the
remarks of Basil of Ceesarea, respecting the advantages of the common
life of the Cenobites over the solitary life of the Anachorets; while, at
the same time, they furnish one example of a truly evangelical judg-
ment on the subject of Monachism: —‘“‘ The eremitical life conflicts with
the essential character of Christian love, since here each individual is
concerned only for what pertains to his own good; while the essence of
Christian love prompts each to seek, not alone what serves for his own
advantage, but also the good of others. Neither will such a person
find it easy to come to the knowledge of his failings and deficiencies ;
since he has no one to correct him with love and gentleness. What is
written in Keclesiastes 4: 10, applies to the case of such a person:
‘ Woe to him that is alone when he falleth ; for he hath not another to
help him up.’ In a society, many can work together, so as to fulfil the
divine commands on different sides. But he who lives alone is ever
confined to one single work; and, while this is being done, other works
must be neglected. Next, if all Christians constitute together one
body, under one Head, and stand related to each other as the members
of one body; how can any such relation subsist, when they live thus
separated from one another, each striving to be enough for himself ?
‘ But if they do not find themselves standing in the right relation to each
other as members of the same body, neither can they stand in the
right relation to their common Head. In one society, the influence of
the Holy Spirit in each individual passes over to all; the gifts of grace
imparted to each become a common possession of all, and the gracious
gifts of all redound to the advantage of each individual. But he who
lives for himself alone, has, perhaps, a gracious gift; but he makes it
unprofitable, since he buries it in his own bosom ;— and whoever is
THE SARABAITES. 247
᾿ acquainted with the parable of the talents, must know how great a re-
sponsibility is thus incurred.” ?
A struggle now arose between the Cenobities and the ascetics who
traced their origin back to an earlier period ; inasmuch as the latter
were unwilling to submit to the new rules of the monks, but wished to
maintain their ancient independence. They were in the habit of liv-
ing two or three together; and they built their cells, for the most part,
in cities, or in the larger villages. They supported themselves, like
other monks, by the labor of their own hands; and their very opponents,
the adherents of the new order of the Cenobites, were constrained to
acknowledge that they were diligent and industrious. The latter, who
alone have left behind any accounts of these classes of ascetics, (known
in Egypt under the name of Sarabaites, in Syria under that of Remo-
both,) give, it is true, a very unfavorable description of them ; and,
as they could be no otherwise than hostilely disposed towards these ad-
versaries of. the new form of the monastic life,” what they have to say
on this subject. is, of itself, liable to suspicion ; and many of their ob-
jections show at once that they originated in hatred, and were without
any just foundation. Cassian, for example, accuses them of misappro-
priating to purposes of sensual indulgence, or covetously hoarding up,
the surplus of their earnmgs.? Or even supposing this was managed
by them in the best possible manner, still it was impossible for them to
attain. to the virtue of the monks. For the monks practised daily the
same self-denial; but to the ascetics their yery bounty to the poor was
an occasion of pride, which daily received nourishment. - Now we see .
here at once, what Cassian himself was unable to conceal, that the first
of these charges could not, in so sweeping a manner, be laid against
the Sarabaites ; and, as it concerns the second, it is evidently a mere
inference in the writer’s own mind, from the false assumption that,
without the outward and unconditional submission to another’s will, with-
out the servile obedience of the monks, there is no true humility. Bad |
qualities and good were, no doubt, to be found among these people, as
among the Cenobites ; but their enemies, of course, held up to notice
the worst side. Jerome charges them with hypocrisy ;* of which there
was no lack, indeed, among many of the monks. He says of them,
that they availed themselves of the outward show of sanctity, which
they affected, to dispose of their wares at a higher rate than others ; —
which might be no less true of the monks.® He accuses them of speak-
1 See Basil. regula fus. VII. 11. 846. Itis
finely remarked also by Nilus, against the
exaggerated estimate of the hermit-life, III.
73: “ Whoever says, I become an anacho-
ret, that I may have no one to excite my
anger, is not essentially different from an
irrational brute ; for we see such also quiet
when aman does not excite them to anger.”
And he quotes, as opposed to the anachoret
life. the texts in Ephes. δ: 21, Pet. 4: 10,
Pet. 2: 13, Philipp. 2: 4.
2JTn the rule of the Benedictines, c. I. it
is also plainly evident, that they were par-
ticularly accused of a spirit of freedom un-
becoming in monks, (sine pastore et lege
vivere,) and to this same spirit every thing
bad in them was attributed. In this very
place, it is conceded that they were of a
far better kind than the degenerate monks
that strolled about through the country,
(the Gyrovagi.)
ὃ Collat. 18, c. VII.
4 Ep. 22 ad Eustochium.
5 Nilus himself objects to a class of the
monks, that πᾶσαν ποριστίκην μετέρχεσϑαι
τέχνην. Ad Magnan, c. 30
248 MONASTICISM.
ing against the clergy. It may well be, that, as laymen, they were in-
clined to boast of their superiority to the clergy, on the score of their
ascetic mode of life. It may be, that they opposed the pride of asceti-
cism to that of the hierarchy; but it may also be, that, among these
people, many pious laymen were led, by their zeal for the cause of re-
ligion, to attack the vices of a worldly-minded clergy. There may
have been some grounds for the opinion, that most of the objections.
brought against them, as well as the quarrels of which they were the
occasion, would have ceased, or never existed, had they subjected them-
selves to the same strict oversight which prevailed among the Cénobites.
We shall now proceed to contemplate Monachism in its various rela-
tions, during this period, to the Eastern church. As it commonly hap-
pens with historical phenomena of this kind, deeply grounded in the
life of an age and pervading all its manifestations, that the best and
worst qualities, springing from the Christian and the unchristian spirit,
meet together, and are found in closest contact ; so it happened in the
case of Monachism. Some care, therefore, must be exercised here, in
separating the opposite elements, if we would neither unjustly condemn,
nor, through the influence of party feelings, without regard to histori-
cal facts, approve the phenomenon here presented; as, in truth, we
may find abundant examples, in this very period, of both these equally
partial and erroneous ways of passing judgment on Monachism.
And here, in the first place, it is necessary to distinguish the Ana-
chorets from the Cenobites. ‘To the former, it was objected, in this
period itself, that they lived solely for themselves; were wanting in ac-
tive charity ;1— in defending them against which objection, Augustin
observes that those who brought against them such complaints, did not
reflect how useful those might be in a spiritual sense, who were not
personally visible, by means of their prayers, and the example of their
life.2 Chrysostom, however, says that it were certainly better, if the
Anachorets also could live together in a society, so as to manifest, in
an outward manner, the bond of charity. Yet, in either case, he ob-
served, the essential requisite of love might be present in the disposi-
tion; for love, assuredly, is not restricted to the limits of space. They
had, in truth, many admirers ; and these would cease to admire, if they
did not love them: and, on the other hand, they prayed for the whole
world, which is the greatest evidence of love.? Even those among the
Anachorets who lived entirely secluded and separate from the world,
were not therefore, by any means, excluded from all exercise of influ-
ence upon others. ‘he greater the reverence they inspired by their
- strict eremetic life, the more they were sought out, in their grottos or
cells, on their rocks or in their deserts, by men of every rank, from the
emperor’s palace to the lowest hovel, who visited them for counsel and
consolation. Men who, in the crowd of earthly affairs, in the dazzling
1 Videntur nonnullis res humanas plus sit et vita ad exemplum, quorum corpora
quam oportet deseruisse. Augustin. de videre non sinimur.
moribus ecclesix catholice, ]. 1. § 66. 3 Chrysostom. H. 78, in Joannem, ὁ 4
2 Aucustin. |. c. non intelligentibus, quan- opp. ed. Montf. T. VIII. f. 464.
tum nobis eorum animus in orationibus pro- See the II. book of Chrysostom contra
Oppugnatores vitee monastic.
THE CENOBITES. 249
glitter of the world, were not easily brought to think of any higher con-
cerns, would approach one of these recluses in a state of mind which
rendered them at once susceptible for higher impressions. A word
spoken to them in that state of feeling, sustained by the whole venera-
ble aspect of the recluse, might produce greater effects than long dis-
courses under other circumstances.! Oftentimes these hermits, after
having remained for years hidden from the eye of the world, appeared
publicly, on the occurrence of great and general calamities, or as pro-
tectors of entire cities and provinces, who were dreading the heavy
vengeance of some exasperated emperor. A spirit which, living by
faith, was conscious of being free from the bondage of the world and
independent of earthly things, gave them courage and power to speak
boldly, where no other man dared to do so: their independence and
their reverence for a higher power, which even the mightiest of the
earth acknowledged, procured for them a hearing. When, after the
insurrection at Antioch, A.D. 387, the emperor Theodosius, under
the impulse of violent anger, threatened the whole city with destruc-
tion, the monk Macedonius, who for many years had not suffered him-
self to be seen in the world, came forth from his seclusion, hurried to
Antioch, and put himself in the way of the two imperial commissioners,
who had been sent for the purpose of holding the judicial trials. They
dismounted respectfully from their horses, and embraced his hands and
knees. He bid them tell the emperor, that he ought to remember he
was a man, and possessed of the same nature with those who had done
the wrong. ‘‘ The emperor is thus angry,” said he, ‘‘ because the im- .
perial images have been destroyed, which, however, may easily be re-
stored ; and he was intending, for this reason, to dgstroy men, who are
the living images of God, and one hair of whose head it was beyond
his power to restore.” The monks were frequently visited by the sick,
who, when they failed of relief from medical skill, hoped to obtain a
cure through the intercessions of these pious men. ‘Those, especially, _
who were suffering under mental disorders, and supposed to be pos-
sessed of evil spirits, frequently applied to them; and it may be easily
conceived that, in such states of mind, the immediate impression of a
life so exalted above the world might produce extraordinary effects.
Pious monks, rich in inward experience, might avail themselves of such
opportunities, even where it was beyond their power to bestow what the
unfortunate patients came in quest of, to leave on their minds, and on
those of the attendants or friends who brought them, some salutary les-
son. Women came to them, to ask for their intercessions with God,
that he would send them children. Mothers brought their children,
that they might bestow on them their blessing, and, at the same time,
scatter in their youthful rainds some seed of religious truth ; as in the
case of Theodoret, who often recurs to a salutary impression of this
sort, which he had received in his childhood. Monks were also called
to pray in families, and could avail themselves of this opportunity of
1 To such experiences Nilus refers, 1. II. 3 Theodoret. hist. relig. pag. 1188 et 1214,
ep. 310. Tell
2 Theodoret. religios. hist. ο. 13.
250 MONASTICISM.
doing good.! Especially did the societies of monks form a striking con-
trast in the more or less remote neighborhood of such large cities as
Antioch, which were seats of wealth, splendor, and luxury, and of dis-
solute manners. What an impression must it have produced, when,
either from curiosity, or for the purpose of receiving the counsel and
consolation or obtaining the intercession of these men, the citizens vis-
ited them from the midst of their busy pursuits, and, in a mode of life’
destitute of every sensual enjoyment and comfort, witnessed, amidst all
these deprivations, a tranquillity of soul of which they had not even
formed a conception! Easily may it be explained, why so many of the
youth, of both sexes, should feel themselves constrained to exchange
their affluence for this poverty! ΤῸ the monks, those persons, in the
Greek empire, often betook themselves, who, after an agitated and rest-
less public life, through many political storms and reverses, either dis-
gusted at the vain pursuits of the world and craving for repose, or
driven by necessity to escape from some threatening danger, sought
here a still retreat, where they might end their days; as in the case
of that venerable monk Nilus, who, having retired from a station of
trust and dignity in Constantinople to Mount Sinai, in the beginning
of the fifth century, could write as follows :? “So great grace has God
bestowed on the monks, even in anticipation of the future world, that
they wish for no honors from men, and feel no longing after the great-
ness of this world; but, on the contrary, often seek rather to remain
concealed from men: while, on the other hand, many of the great, who
possess all the glory of the world, either of their own accord, or com-
pelled by misfortune, take refuge with the lowly monks, and, delivered
from fatal dangers, obtain at once a temporal and an eternal salvation.”
And in the monastic profession, might they now find a new inner life,
and turn the treasure of experience they had acquired, to their own
benefit, and that of others.
As to the difference between the solitary life of the Anachorets and
the common life of the Cenobites, it is to be observed, that the same
objection cannot be made against the ascetic mode of living in common,
which might be brought against the insulated life of the Anachorets,
viz. that the spirit of active charity was here wanting ; for, as we have
already remarked, judged on the principle of Christian love, the Ceno-
bitic mode of life had the advantage over the other. The canobice
formed, in fact, little communities, in which every kind of Christian
activity and virtue found room for exercise, with the exception only of
such as are strictly connected with the ties of family. Chrysostom
‘says of this class, that they had fled from amidst the bickerings of the
world, for the purpose of cultivating charity with less disturbance.?
People of all ranks might here associate together, and: find a suitable
occupation, sanctified by the spirit of Christian fellowship. Every
kind of employment not interfering with tranquillity and the other re-
lations of the monastic life, was here pursued, and prosecuted with the
1 Nil. 1. ΤΙ. ep. 46. πόλλας ποίει τὰς ἐρίδας" διὰ τούτο ἐκ μέσου
2 Lib. I. ep. I. γενόμενοι, τὴν ἀγώπην γεωργοῦσι pet’ ἀκρι-
8 Ἐπείδη γὰρ ἡ τῶν πραγμάτων φιλονεικία βείας πόλλης. H. 78, in Evangel. Joh. § 4.
ry
THE CENOBITES. 251
feelings which ought to animate every Christian calling. Prayer, read-
ing of the scriptures, sacred music, here alternated with, and accom-
pained, bodily labor.!. The bond of Christian fellowship here united to-
gether what was separated by the relations of the world. Slaves, on
whom their masters had bestowed freedom that they might enter a
cloister, here joined in brotherly fellowship with those who had sprung
from the noblest families ; and here they were trained for a higher life.
It was the spirit of Monachism which gave special prominence to that
Christian point of view, from which all men were regarded as originally
equal in the sight of God; which opposed the consciousness of God’s
image in human nature, to the grades and distinctions flowing out of
the relations of the state. Hence this spirit, where it was pure, not
recognizing the distance which the earthly relations had fixed between
slaves and freemen, plebeians and nobles, invited and admitted all,
without distinction, to the fellowship of that higher life, which had re-
spect only to the universal interests of humanity. The spirit of con-
tempt for earthly show, the spirit of universal philanthropy, revealed
itself in the pure appearances of Monachism, and in much that pro-
ceeded from it. Nilus says: ‘In raising recruits for the military
service of this world, slaves are rejected ; but into the ranks of the
soldiers for piety, slaves enter with joy and confidence.”* The same
writer, citing the example of Job, chap. 31, gives special prominence
to compassion for the race of slaves, whom a mastership of violence,
destroying the fellowship of nature, had converted into tools.? Among
the works of Christian piety, he names the redeeming of slaves from .
bondage to cruel masters. Slaves, who were oppressed, fled for pro-
tection to pious monks ; and the latter interceded ,for those in trouble
with their masters. The abbot Isodore of Pelusium, writing in behalf
of one of these to his master, observes: ‘‘I did not suppose that a man
who loves Christ, who knows the grace which has made all men free,
could still hold a slave ;’® and to another he said: ‘ The noble dispo-
sition frees those whom violence has made slaves ; wherever this blame-
1 Τῇ the greater monastic rule of Basilius,
those occupations are permitted and recom-
mended to the monks, which did not compel
them to be too much separated from one
another, as well in the labors themselves,
as in the sale of the products of their indus-
try; such occupations as subserved the
necessary purposes of life, and not unseem-
ly or hurtful passions; as, for example, the
occupation of. the weaver, of the shoe-
maker, so far as these trades did not ad-
minister to luxury. Architecture, the car-
penter’s trade¥ the smith, the cultivator of
the soil, were not to be rejected on their
own account. provided only thef created no
disturbance, and did not interrupt the life
of the community. In this case, such occu-
pations, agriculture especially, were to be
preferred to many other employments. The
views on this subject were not everywhere
ing as the barely contemplative or the prae-
tical point of view in the monastic life pre-
dominated. Nilus, who proceeded on the
former, is against the employment of monks
in agriculture. See Nil. de monastica ex-
ercitatione, ¢. 21.
ΙΝ Vers
3 Nil. Perister. sect. 10, c. VI. f. 165.
Τὴν περὶ τὸ οἰκετίκον γένος συμπαϑείαν,
ὅπερ κατεδουλώσατο τεμούσα τὴν φύσιν ἡ
δυναστεία.
4 The question to the rich man who came
to meet death without having used his
property in accordance with the impulses of
Christianity. Τίνα δεσπότων ὀδυρόμενον
ὠμοτῆτα τῆς σκλῆρας δουλείας ἀπηλλάξας ;
L. c. sect. IX. ο. I. f. 184.
5 Οὐ yap οἶμαι οἰκέτην ἔχειν τὸν φιλοχρίσ-
τον, εἰδύτα τὴν χάριν τὴν πώντας ἐλευϑεοώ-
σασαν. pp. |. 1. ep. 142.
precisely the same. They ditfered accord- a
~
252 MONASTICISM.
less disposition was found, Paul knew no difference between bond and
free.’
The cloisters, moreover, were institutions of education, and as such
were the more distinguished on account of the care they bestowed on
religious and moral culture, because education generally, in this period,
as may be gathered from the complaints of Libanius and Chrysostom,
had fallen into neglect. Vanity and the love of display were among:
the first lessons learned in the schools of the sophists; and, in the large
cities, corruptions of all sorts threatened the tender age. Basil of
Ozesarea, in his rules for the education of the cloister, gives the follow-
ing directions: ‘‘ Inasmuch as our Lord has said, ‘ Suffer little children
to come unto me,’ and the apostle praises those who from their youth
had been taught the holy scriptures, and exhorts men to bring up their
children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, let it be understood
that the earliest age is particularly well suited for being received into
the cloisters. Orphan children should be received gratwitously ; and
those who have parents should be admitted, when brought by them in
the presence of many witnesses. They should receive a pious educa-
tion, as children belonging in common to the whole society of brethren.
Separate buildings should be specially appropriated to their use ; —a
particular diet and mode of living, carefully adapted to their age,
should be appointed for them ; — the superintendence of their educa-
tion should be entrusted to a person of years, experience, and well-tried
patience, who understood how to manage them with parental tender-
ness. very fault should be so punished, that the punishment might
prove at the same time an exercise of discipline over the temper which
had led to its commission. For example, if one indulged angry pas-
sions towards another, the fault should be punished by causing him to
serve the other, according to the nature of the offence: greediness
should be punished by fasting. From the beginning, they should obtain
a familiar acquaintance with the holy scriptures ; instead of the fables
of the poets, they should commit to memory the narratives of the mira-
cles ; instead of the Gnomes, passages from the Proverbs of Solomon.
Only at the stated hours of social prayer should the grown people and
the children come together. As many handicrafts must be learned
early, the boys should, in such cases, be allowed to spend the day with
the master-workmen, but should sleep and eat with the others. They
should not be permitted to take the monastic vow until grown up, and
then only when they showed an inclination and aptitude for the monas-
tic life: in the opposite case, they should not be bound to do 80.᾽
The cloisters were distinguished for their hospitality and benevolence
to the poor. The cloisters of Egypt, for example, provided means of
subsistence for the unfruitful districts of Lybia: they sent ships, laden
with grain and articles of clothing, to Alexandria, for distribution among
the poor.® 5
17. 306. also narrated, that a certain abbot and pres-
2 Basil. reg. fus. § 15. byter, named Serapion, under whose direc-
8 See Cassian. institut. coenob. 1. 10, 6. 22. tion stood many cloisters and ten thousand
Hist. Laus. c. 76. In this last place, it is monks, obtained and could distribute annu-
ΩΣ
THE CENOBITES. 253
In the cloisters on the mountain of Nitria, there were seven bake-
houses, which provided the Anachorets of the bordering Lybian desert
with bread. ‘Travellers who, after a weary pilgrimage, arrived here
from the wilderness, were suddenly surprised by the sight of a large
body of men at labor amidst prayer and spiritual songs; and they found
~ among them a brotherly, hospitable reception: they were refreshed in
body and mind. These monks were not prevented, by any ascetic scru-
ples, from providing themselves with wine, for the refreshment of their
guests. Every stranger might tarry with them as long as he pleased ;
but, if he remained longer than a week, they did not allow him to be
idle, but required him either to join in the manual labors, or to occupy
himself with a book.1
But, on the other hand, it cannot be denied that many evils resulted
from the monastic institution; which is to be attributed partly to its
having degenerated, a necessary consequence of the excessive multipli-
cation of the monks; partly to the tendency itself, so alien from the
pure spirit of the gospel, which had first led to this form of Christian
life, and which was then still more promoted by it. In respect to the
first of these causes, the same thing happened here which so frequently
occurs in connection with phenomena entering deeply into the life of a
period, that numbers, without any special inner call, were hurried into the
current by the general enthusiasm or the love of imitation ; or, by some
momentary shock which served to deceive them as to their own char-
acter, were impelled to withdraw from the world, without being in the
least degree fitted for the tranquil, uniform life of Monachism. Others .
chose this mode of life on account of the imposing show of holiness with
which it was invested, induced by the opportunity, which it promised
them, of indolently gratifying their desires and passions under the mask
of religion. People of the lower classes renounced no earthly enjoy-
ment by entering upon the monastic life, but, under the appearance of
renouncing the world, secured earthly goods, on which they never could
have reckoned.2, What must have been the result, when rude people
of the lowest class set themselves up all at once as leaders of monkish
societies ? Yet Nilus complains, that a man who was but yesterday a
water-carrier at an inn, might to-day make himself pass as an abbot ;
and Isodore of Pelusium, that shepherds and runaway slaves founded
cloisters,? — for all which, indeed, the bishops were answerable, since it
showed a want of oversight over the whole diocese of the church ; unless
the truth was, that the swarms of monks had now become too powerful
even for the bishops. Uneducated men, of rude and savage character,‘
who brought their restless spirit with them into the seats of quiet, were
eager to seize on every occasion which gave employment to their pas-
ally at the harvest, in the Nomosof Arsenoe Οὐτὲ καταλιπόντες τὶ καὶ ἅ μὴ εἴχον κτησα-
in Egypt, such a quantity of grain, that μένοι, ὥσπερ ἐμπορείας οὐ φιλοσοφίας ὑποϑέ-
not only no poor person in the whole coun-_ ov τὸν μονάδικον βίον πεποιήμενοι.
try suffered want, but he found it in his 8 Nilus de monastica exercitat. c. 22. Is-
power also to support the poor in Alex- idor. Pelus. 1. I. ep. 262. .
andria. 4 As Isidorus of Pelusium writes: Στίφη
1 Hist. Laus. c. VI. καὶ φάλαγγες οὐ μοναχῶν, ἀλλὰ μάλλον μα
2 Nil. Tractat. ad Magnam, pag. 297. χητῶν.
VOL. Π. ὩΣ
254 ~ MONASTICISM. re
Why fe
sions. Hence the troops. of wild zealots, who raved against pagans and "
heretics, demolished and plundered temples; who often took so mis-
chievous a part in doctrinal controversies ; who were eager to be em-
ployed as tools of fanaticism, and of the ambition of those who stood
leaders of the church party. Add to this, that to such men, who con-
stantly moved in one narrow circle of imtuitions and feelings, and who
‘were In no sense In a condition to step beyond this narrow range, that
to such, every deviation from their own accustomed modes of thought
and expression easily appeared as a departure from the essentials of
Christianity itself. It was persons of this class who led the Heathens,
men like Libanius and Rutilius,! to draw up such unfavorable pictures
of the monastic institution, about which they formed their judgment
from such spurious offshoots. Distinguished, on the other hand, for
moderation and love of truth, is the judgment which Synesius, while
yet a Pagan, pronounces on Monachism, when he-says: ‘Such men as
Amus of Egypt, with whom intellectual intuition supplied the place of
scientific culture, might be allowed to discourse of divine things, with-
out scientific preparation ; but the case was different with the great
crowd of those who wished to pass judgment on spiritual matters with-
out the spiritual sense, especially with such as had not been led to
adopt this mode of life by any original inclination of nature, but, sprung
from different classes of society, had seized upon it merely on account
of the peculiar consideration in which it was held δυο whom their
necessities alone had brought together.” 3
Out of Monachism sprang the most heterogeneous tendencies of the
religious spirit. It was the case with many, that the incessant struggles
with their own nature, and the large and various inward experience thus
acquired, opened to them a profound knowledge of themselves, as well
as of the remedy which alone can secure to man the healing of his
moral evil, and give him inward peace and repose. ‘They became sat-
isfied, from their own experience, of the vanity of the righteousness
which is founded on works; while, in reliance on the grace of re-
demption, in child-like submission to God, they found a spring of com-
fort, of peace and power, which they could never have found in all the
discipline of asceticism. Thus there occasionally sprung up out of Mon-
achism, a warm and living Christianity, having its seat im the heart, and
exerting its influence there ;— a Christianity directly opposed to the
opus operatum of asceticism. We see this in the example of Chrysostom,
who was trained up under the influence of the monastic life; in that
of Nilus, who, in his letters on trusting in works which cannot stand,
΄ often points away from this, to trust in the Redeemer alone ;? and in the
1 See his poetical description of his
travels.
2 Synesii Dion. Ode οὐχ ἡ πρώτη φύσις
ἐπὶ τόνδε τὸν βίον é ἐξώρμησεν: ὥσπερ δὲ ἄλλο
τὶ τῶν εὐδοκιμοῦντων, τὴν γενναίαν αἱρέσιν
ἐζηλώκασι παντοδώποι τὲ ὄντες τὰ γένη καὶ
κατὰ χοείαν ἑκώστοι συνιστάμενοι.
8 For instance, in his beautiful exposition
of Rom. 2: 15, 1. III. ep. 284. . “ We shall
be our own accusers in the day of judg-
ment, if our own conscience condemns us.
What other defence or help shall we then
find, in that state of anxiety, besides reli-
ance on our most compassionate Lord,
Christ alone? Like a benevolent, peace-
bringing, friendly angel, the. remembrance
of Christ, our des arly” beloved Master, pre-
sents itself to us in the midst of onr despon-
dency, and the deep-rooted, unshaken faith
in him has banished trembling ae shame.
Poe
ba
THE CENOBITES. 255
le of their contemporary, Marcus.! Nor were all those who ex-
ercised themselves in subduing the power of sense by the severest absti-.
nence, therefore governed by the delusive notion that the essence of
Christian perfection consisted in such works of renunciation and morti-
fication of self, and that. it was possible, in this way, to obtain especial
merit in the sight of God. The monk Marcianus, who lived towards
the close of the fourth century, in a desert of Syria, and was famed for
the rigid austerity of his life, furnishes a remarkable example to the
contrary. Attracted by his universal renown, Avitus, an aged monk,
came from another desert to visit him. Marcian, out of his scanty
means, had provided himself with the best meal which could be procur-
ed. Having conversed awhile with each other, and united in prayer
about the third hour after noon, the hermit served up his meal in a dish,
and invited Avitus to partake of it. But the latter declined, saying,
that it was not his custom to eat before evening, and that he often fasted
two and even three days together. ‘‘ Well, then,’ said Marcian, ‘ to
oblige me, deviate a little to-day from your usual habits ; for I am ill,
and cannot wait till evening.”’ As this representation of the case, how-
ever, made no difference with his guest, who was determined not to
relax in the least from his austere rule, Marcian said: ‘I am very
sorry you have come so far in the expectation of seeing a man of strict
self-control, and that you must be disappointed of your hopes, since, in-
stead of that, you have found in me a person who indulges himself.”
At hearing this, Avitus was troubled, and declared he would prefer
rather to eat flesh, than allow any such thing to be said. Then said.
Marcian: “1 also lead the same life as you do, and am accustomed to
eat only when night approaches. But we know that love is better than
fasting; for the former is a divine law, while the latter, on the contrary,
is a rule which we impose on ourselves of free choice.” 3
But, on the other hand, there also sprang up, out of Monachism, the
spirit of self-righteousness on the ground of works; a legal morality sep- -
arated from all connection with the inward essence of the gospel, and
tending especially to keep back the consciousness of the need of re-
demption ; the spirit of a slavish self-mortification, at war with the
essence of Christian liberty; the spirit of a pharisaical, ascetic pride.
Many, who felt the ungodly impulses in human nature, were persecuted
the more by impure thoughts, the more they gave heed to them,
instead of employing their minds on other subjects capable of tasking
their utmost powers. Many, who would violently suppress the purely
human impulses of their nature, as if they were a hmdrance to the
filled the heart with joy, and brought back
the wanderer from God to union and fel-
lowship with him.”
1 See, e. g. in his smaller tracts, the sec-
tion περὶ τῶν οἰομένων ἐξ ἔργων δικαιοῦσϑαι.
Bibl. patr. Galland. T. VII. f. 13. He
says, for example: “Some suppose they
possess true faith, without keeping the com-
mandments; but others, who keep them,
expect the kingdom of God as a reward,
which God is bound to bestow on them: both
are far from the kingdom of heaven. If
Christ died for us according to the serip-
tures, and we live not to ourselves, but to
him who died for us and rose again, we are
assuredly pledged to serve him, even till
death. How can we, then, look upon our
adoption by God as a reward which he is
bound to confer on us?”
2 Theodoret. religios. hist. c. 3
256 MONASTICISM.
striving after moral perfection,! and yet could not wholly stifle the voice
of nature, as we saw above in the example of Anthony,— many of
these tormented themselves in vain; they devised the strangest
expedients for the crucifixion of self and the mortification of their
nature ; yet without advancing a step in true inward holiness. The
legal, slavish spirit of Pharisaism; fear of malignant fiends and of
the evil one ; fear of the dreadful images of divine wrath, came in place ©
of the child-like, free, cheerful, God-trusting spirit of Christian love.
We are here presented with appearances which remind us rather of
the spirit of the self-torturing Saniahs of India striving to unman them-
selves, than of the temper of child-like love, resignation and cheerful-
ness, which the gospel brings with it. A few examples will illustrate
this. ;
Eusebius, a monk in Syria, employed another, by the name of Am-
mianus, to read to him from the gospels. But certain countrymen, who
happened to be ploughing in a neighboring field, drew off his attention,
so that a portion, which he had not distinctly understood, must be read
over a second time. ΤῸ punish himself for this, he took a vow, that he
would never go in any other way or direction, than one narrow path
that led to the church. And, to compel himself always to look to the
earth, he fastened about his loins an iron girdle, riveted to his neck a
heavy iron collar, and by a chain connected this collar to his girdle ;
thus bringing himself into such a bending posture, that he must always
look to the earth. Being asked for what useful purpose he was sub-
mitting to so painful a constraint, which allowed him neither to look up
to heaven nor around on the fields, he replied : it was a stratagem he was
employing against Satan ; thus confining his conflict with Satan to such
trifling matters, where he had but little to lose nor Satan much to gain,
and where if the latter was overcome, still the victory would appear to
be not worth the contest. This, to be sure, was reducing the struggle
against sin, and the work of sanctification, from the interior of the heart
to a mere outward play with mechanics! Another, who had invented a
refined species of torture for the castigation of himself, assigned as a
reason for it, that, conscious of his sins and the punishment they de-
served, he was seeking, by means of these self-inflicted pains, to lessen
the severer punishment which threatened him in hell.? Here, in the
obscuration of the Christian consciousness of redemption, we find the
germ of the whole unevangelical theory respecting penance, as a volun-
1 Even those who were influenced more
by the spirit of pure Christianity, yet suf-
fered themselves to be so far misled, by the
false notions of the monks respecting es-
trangement from the world, by seeking af-
ter likeness to God in the renunciation of
their own human nature, as to mistake alto-
gether, on this point, the essential character
of Christianity, which would adopt into it-
self all the pure feelings of humanity, aim-
ing simply to inspire into them a new life,
to sanctify and ennoble them. Thus Nilus
himself requires of the monk, that he should
suppress within him all remembrance of
earthly relationships, reckoning this a part
of the duty of becoming dead to the world;
so entirely did he misapprehend the nature
of Christian renunciation of the world,
which has reference to the world only as
opposed to God and his kingdom; to that
which is ungodly. In like manner, he re-
quires of the monk, that he should show
acts of kindness to his necessitous relatives,
in precisely the same way as to the poor
who are entirely strangers. See Nil. 1. ΠῚ
ep. 290. :
2 Hist. religios. ¢. 28
SIMEON THE STYLITE. 257
.tary satisfaction paid to divine justice ; out of which grew the doctrine
of indulgences, and many other superstitious notions.
In this way arose the class, called the Stylites, who spent whole years
standing on lofty pillars. Thus Simeon, for example, who was the first
of this order, and lived about the beginning of the fifth century, finally
established himself on.a column which measured six and thirty ells, or
sixty feet from the ground. We have already spoken of the impression
produced by this extraordinary spectacle, and of its effects in leading
to the conversion of rude pagan tribes.!. Simeon 15. 5814 to have been
the instrument of much good, also, by the exhortations to repentance
which he gave from his pillar, and by settling disputes and restoring
peace between enemies. ΤῸ these benevolent labors of the man, Theo-
doret appeals, in endeavoring to defend him from the reproach. with
which he might, not without reason, be charged, for expending the ener-
gies of his will upon so frivolous a thing. Divine grace —so he sup-
poses — had thus operated through him, in order to arrest, by such an
extraordinary phenomenon, the attention of men who were not to be in-
structed except through their senses, and to bring them, by this means,
to the divine doctrine itself. His language deserves notice: “ As
princes, after certain periods, change the emblems on their coins, choos-
ing sometimes the lion, at others, stars-or angels, for the die, and en-
deavoring to give a higher value to the gold by the striking character
of the impression ; so God has made piety assume these novel and varied
forms of life, ike so many new characters, to awaken the admiration,
not only of the disciples of the faith, but also of the unbelieving
world.”’2 Doubtless he was right in supposing, that the spirit of Chris- -
tian piety, although ever one and the same, is yet capable of exhibiting
itself in manifold forms of life, as these vary with-the changing forms
of culture ; yet this spirit, nevertheless, cannot take such forms as con-
tradict, and threaten to suppress or to render indistinct, its own essen-
tial character. Christian piety needed not to be stamped with a form
so foreign from its own nature, and adapted to excite the wonder of .
rude men, in order to prepare the way for exerting its appropriate influ-
ence. ‘The divine power within it operates by its own energy, though
not always in so sudden and surprising a manner, yet the more deeply
and thoroughly, just because it operates, not on the senses and the
imagination, but on that which affines to God in human nature. Had
Simeon planted himself down among those rude men, and labored
among them, by preaching the gospel in words and works, by a
life animated by the spirit of self-sacrificing love, he would not per-
haps have so speedily induced thousands to submit to baptism ; but,
what is’ far-more, he would have gradually introduced the power of the
gospel into their hearts, and, by its means, brought about a new crea-
tion. On the other hand, after so sudden an impression, which was, in
all respects, agreeable to the taste of the natural man, who looks after
the godlike in outward appearances, men were easily led to form their
conception of Christianity accordingly, as a religion designed to com
1 See p. 118. 2 Hist. religios. c. 25, T. III. pag. 1274.
VOL. II. : 22"
258 MONACHISM.
municate to their previous modes of feeling and thinking — as we so
often find it in the case of conversions produced after this manner —a
different form, much rather than a different spirit. The natural man,
under which scriptural name we include alike the rude and the wrongly
educated, is, beyond question, more easily impressed by that which
strikes the eye as something superhuman, than by the appearance of
the truly godlike which lies concealed under the cover of the purely
human form ; but that impression, too, will be far more likely to lead
men to deify that which has produced such an effect on the senses, than
to worship Him who alone is to be worshipped. And of this we have
an example in the present case ; for the images of this Simeon were
regarded with a sort of superstitious veneration, and the figure of him,
as Theodoret informs us, presented under the form of a protecting spirit,
was set up, as a species of amulet, at the entrance of the shops in Rome.
Many a person might, doubtless, be prompted by ambition to subdue
and bring under his sensuous nature, even to as great an extent as this
Simeon did; and still be very far from presenting the vastly more diffi-
cult offering of inward self-denial, which was not to be done by such
artificial modes of discipline.!’ That truly devout and pious monk, Nilus,
rightly directs the attention of one of these Stylites to the very point
where he failed, to the radical evil within, which, in this partial victory
itself over the flesh, found such means of nourishment: ‘* Whoever ex-
alts himself,’ he writes to him, ‘ shall be abased. You have done
nothing worthy of praise, in having stationed yourself on a lofty pillar ;
and yet you wish to obtain the greatest praise. But look to it, lest for
the moment you be extravagantly praised here by mortals, but be
obliged hereafter, contrary to your hopes, to appear wretched before
the eternal God; because you were intoxicated here by the undeserved
praise of men.” 2
There were, in fact, monks who carried dehumanization to such an
extreme, as to divest themselves of every attribute which gives dignity to
humanity, and to become mere brutes. As if without consciousness,
and as if deprived of their senses in broad day, they wandered about,
like wild animals, in deserts and on mountains, supporting their wretch-
ed existence on the herbs with which nature supplied them.
his right foot, which was therefore sprained,
when, as he made the sign of the cross, the
phantom of Satan vanished. See acta
1 The story perhaps may be true, although
there was nothing supernatural in it, but
only what may be very naturally explained,
that Simeon had a vision, which at first he
was tempted to consider as real, —a vision
which presented before the much-admired
- maan the reflected effervescence of his own
spiritual pride, and which he subsequently
recognized as an outward temptation of the
devil, but which he might, in a more salutary
way, have recognized as a temptation aris-
ing out of inward corruption. He once
imagined he saw an angel appear before
him with a chariot of fire, who wanted
to transport him to heaven like Elijah, be-
cause the angels and blessed spirits were
longing after him; and he was already on
the point of mounting into the chariot with
sanctorum mens. Januar. T. I. ἢ. 271. If
this is not a true story, yet the inner truth
at least reflected itself in this legend.
2L. II. 114. The same writer warns one
of these Stylites, 1. ὁ. ep. 115, to take heed
lest, while he raised his body aloft, his soul
should grovel on the earth, and with its
thoughts be far removed from heavenly
things. Before, he had conversed with men,
whom admiration had drawn around him
now he addressed himself particularly to
women.
3 According to an apt similitude, the
monks that grazed like animals, the βόσκοι.
See Sozomen, VI. 33.
INFLUENCE OF JEROME. OF AUGUSTIN. 259
While Monachism must be regarded as an institution which properly
originated in the Eastern church, and which corresponded particularly
to the climate, no less than to the spirit of the East; it was, on the
other hand, an institution which found little to favor it in the ruder and
more variable climate, and in the more active spirit, of the West.
Hence, too, it was a longer time before this product of the East could
find its way from that quarter into the Western districts; and, in the
first instance, it met here with a more strenuous resistance than in the
East. Athanasius was the first, who, during his residence at different
times when banished from the East, among the Western people, introdue-
ed among them a better knowledge of the Oriental Monachism. His bio-
graphical account of the monk Anthony, which was early translated into
the Latin, had a great influence in this matter. Besides, respectable
bishops of the West, who had been banished to the East during the
Arian controversies, brought back with them, on their return, the en-
thusiasm for the monastic life; as for instance, Eusebius of Vercelli.
Men possessing such great influence as Ambrose of Milan, Martin of
Tours, the Presbyter Jerome, contributed subsequently, in the course
of the fourth century, still further to awaken and diffuse this tendency
of the Christian spirit in Italy and in Gaul. Men and women of the
highest rank in Rome were impelled by the ascetic spirit which was
spread by Jerome during his residence in that city, to retire from the
great world, in which they had shone, and devote themselves, in Pales-
tine or elsewhere, to the monastic life. But Jerome created for him-
self, by this very influence, a multitude of enemies at Rome, whose at-
tacks induced him to leave that city ; and we need not doubt, that the ©
extravagances into which this man was so easily hurried with regard to
everything which he undertook to advocate, contributed rather to m-
jure than advance the cause of Monachism which he espoused. Augus-
tin, who softened the exaggerations of Jerome, endeavored to diffuse
Monachism in North Africa. He opposed it to the licentious spirit of the
strolling, wildly fanatical, Donatist ascetics (the Circumcelliones;) and, ᾿
beyond question, it had here become quite evident that the ascetic
spirit, which had continued to prevail in these districts ever since the
spread of Montanism by Tertullian, needed a more rigid discipline and
restraint, to keep it from breaking out in those sallies of wild fanaticism,
into which it was so apt to be betrayed when left to itself. In the
mind of Augustin, Monachism was associated with the ideal, which even
before his conversion had floated before a soul so smitten with the crav-
ing after the divine; and first, in a form which adapted itself to the
Platonism to which he was then devoted. While living, during that
memorable ‘period of his life in which the great crisis with him was pre-
paring, in high intellectual society with his friends at Milan, he was
seized with the idea of an association of like-minded men, who, united
by one spirit, renouncing the cares of the world, and throwing up all
worldly property, should live together in the common striving after the
contemplation and knowledge of divine things, (in the συμφιλοσύφειν ;) all
the means of the individuals being thrown into a common fund, out of
which the common wants should be supplied. In his then existing state
260 MONACHISM. -AUGUSTIN’S VIEWS.
of mind, this ideal, with which the passions and desires that still govern-
ed him were in conflict, could serve no other purpose than to bring him to
the consciousness of his own moral impotency. But when afterwards he
obtained through the gospel the power of bringing his ideal nearer to a
realization, the image of that Platonic association was supplanted in
his mind by the idea of that primitive apostolical community at Jerusa-
lem, which he strove after, and which, when he became acquainted
with Monachism, he supposed he found there.once more restored. From
this starting point was unfolded in his mind the idea of a spiritual semi-
nary, which he founded. After this model, he planned, when he after-
wards became bishop, the canonical community of his clergy.
But he was aware, also, of the corruptions which grew out of the
monastic life, and sought to counteract them, and to.purify Monachism
from the bad influences which were connected. with it. To this end, he
wrote his work. on the obligation of the monks to labor, (de opere mo-
_nachorum,) which he dedicated to Aurelius, bishop of Carthage; hoping,
through his authority and influence, to effect a change for the better.
Augustin observes. that, in these countries, the majority of the monks
consisted of persons from the lower ranks of society ; — slaves, to whom
their masters had for this object either given, or been willing to give,
their freedom,! or persons who came from the cultivation of the soil, or
from the workshops.? It would be a grievous sin, in his opinion, not
to admit such persons; for from the ranks of such many truly great
men had proceeded ; since it is by that which is inconsiderable and vile
in the estimation of the world, that God is used to produce the greatest
effects, 1 Corinth. 1; 27. But he rightly feared the danger of idle-
ness and too great freedom, in the case of men who had been accustom-
ed to severe corporeal labor and to rigid restraint. Many were there,
who would be right well disposed. to exchange a needy, sorrowful, and
laborious life, for one free from all care, exempt from labor, and, at the
same time, looked up to with universal respect.. They who discarded
the obligation to manual labor, ventured, in defending their principles,
to pervert many passages of the New Testament. . When that precept
of the apostle Paul, in 2 Thessal. 3: 12, was objected to them, they ap-
pealed, on the other hand, to those misconceived passages in the sermon
on the mount, in which all care for the wants of the morrow, hence
all labor to acquire the means of sustenance for the morrow, were for-
bidden. Christian perfection was made to consist in this, — that men
should expect, without laboring for their support, to be provided for by
the hand of God, like the fowls of the air. This precept of Christ,
- they contended, Paul could not mean to contradict; the laboring, ac-
cordingly, as well as the-eating, in those words of Paul, must be under-
stood, not in the literal, but in a spiritual sense, —as referring to the
obligation of communicating the nourishment of the divine word, which
men had themselves received, to others also, — an example of the per-
version of scripture, worthy to be noticed.
1 See above. etiam liberti, yel propter hoc.a dominis libe-
2 Nun¢ autem veniunt plerumque ad hanc __rati sive liberandi, et ex vita rusticana et ex
professionem et-ex conditione servili, vel. opificum exercitatione et plebeio labore
CASSIANUS. BENEDICT. 261
Augustin, in this work, also describes the mischievous consequences
which had arisen from the abuse of their liberty, and from idle habits
among the monks in the West. Inthe monkish garb, which made them
respected, they were accustomed to stroll about in the provinces trad-
_ ing in reliques, which were something trumped up for the occasion, or
pretending that they had parents or relatives in this or that country,
whom they were going to visit: they everywhere took advantage of the
outward impression of their sanctity to extort money, and oftentimes
their hypocrisy was exposed by the vices in the indulgence of which they
were surprised.!
In the early times of the fifth century, John Cassianus, who became
president of a cloister in Massillia, (Marseilles,) introduced the monas-
tic institutions of the East into the South of France, where he made
them known by his works on the rules of the cloisters, (institutiones coe-
nobiales, ) and his sketches of the spiritual conversations of the Oriental
monks.? The cloisters of Southern France became the seats of a prac-
tical, Christian spirit, which, amid the distractions and devastations
which came over this country during the marauding incursions of bar-
barous tribes, proved a great blessing to the people ; as for instance the
cloister on the island of Lerina, (Lerins,) in Provence, in particular.
These cloisters became also spiritual seminaries, which sent forth the
bishops most distinguished for their self-sacrificing and pious labors ;
such as Faustus of Riez, (Rhegium, Rheji,) and Cesarius of Arles.
Yet Monachism would perhaps have been unable to withstand the des-
tructive influences which, in this and the next following times, were -
spreading far and wide, and the irregularities prevailing in the spirit-
ual order would have become more widely diffused in Monachism, which
had a still laxer constitution, had not a remarkable man introduced into
the mvnastic life a more settled order and a more rigid discipline, and giy-
en it that shaping and direction by which it became so influential an
instrument particularly for the conversion and the culture of rude nations .
by Christianity. This remarkable man was Benedict. And since he
contributed so much, by the spirit and form which he gave Monachism,
to the Christian education of the western nations, we must endeavor to
become better acquainted with the history of the formation of his char-
acter, and with the work which proceeded from him, in its earliest de-
velopment.
It is to be lamented, however, that we possess so little that is trust-
worthy and precise relative to the education, the life and labors of this
individual ; the oldest source of information—namely, the narrative of
the Roman .bishop, Gregory the Great, though derived, according to
his account, from disciples of Benedict — being so distorted by exag-
gerations, and the effort to give the whole story a miraculous air, that
the facts at bottom do not, in many cases, admit of being any longer
ascertained ; and in the general type of the wonder-working saint, as
seized and delineated in the colors of that age, it is the less possible to
find out what in fact were the peculiar characteristics of the man.
1§ 36. 2 Collationes.
202 MONACHISM.
Benedict, born A.D. 480, sprang from a respectable family in the
Italian province of Nursia. His parents sent him to Rome, for the pur-
pose of obtaining a literary education. But well might the mgenvous
disposition of the young man be only shocked at the dissolute morals by
which, at that time; he must have: found himself surrounded at Rome.
He had probably heard and read about the lives of the Anachorets of
the East; and these holy examples possessed so much the more attrac-
tion for him, as. they were contrasted with the impure exhibitions of
character which he saw everywhere around him. « He longed for soli-
tude, and left Rome, accompanied, for the first twenty-four miles from
that city, by the nurse whom his parents had sent. with him as an at-
tendant to Rome, and who, from affection, was unwilling to leave him.
But Benedict, following his ascetic bent, deserted her also ; and pro-
ceeding eight miles further, finally came to a deserted country lying on a
lake, which hence bore the name of Sublacus, (Subiaco. ) Here he fell in
with a monk, named Romanus, to whom he made known his purpose.
Struck with admiration at the glowing zeal of the young man, Romanus
promised him his assistance and protection. To this person alone, Ben-
edict discovered the grotto in which he had taken up his residence.
The cloister of Romanus was near by, and he could therefore provide
the young hermit, who was here destitute of all means of subsistence,
with bread, by sparing what he brought him from his own daily allow-
ance. A steep rock lying between the cloister and the grotto of Bene-
dict, he had agreed with the latter, that he should let down the bread
from the top of the rock, by means of a long rope. ΤῸ the rope was
attached a bell, by the sound of which, Benedict might be directed to
the spot where the rope was let down.
After having spent three years in this grotto, he was discovered by
some shepherds who were pasturing their flocks in this region ; and the
story soon spread abroad about the hermit who had here been found.
He was shortly held in great veneration through the whole country
around, and numbers eagerly pressed forward to supply him with the .
means of support. His fame became at once so great, that, the place
of abbot having fallen vacant in a neighboring convent, the monks con-
ferred the office on him. He told them, it is true, beforehand, that he
would not be able to endure. their savage manners. Yet he suffered
himself to be over-persuaded. The degenerate monks, displeased with
his severity, sought to take his life: he told them they might choose
themselves an abbot that suited their own disposition, and retired
. again to his former solitude... But he continually became an object of
more general attention, both on account of his contests with the wild
monks, and on account of his deliverance from the dangers which threat-
ened him, which tradition afterwards magnified into a miracle. The
disturbance of all existing earthly relations, which followed as one of the
consequences resulting from the migration of the nations, would at that
period impel men to seek the more, and cling firmly to, that which was
independent of and saperior to all earthly vicissitudes, and could secure
them peace and shelter amid the storms of the world. Hence multi-
tudes thronged to him, for the purpose of training themselves under his
BENEDICT. 2638
“guidance to the way of life which promised such a refuge ; which taught
men how to adopt from choice and to love these deprivations, to which
many were driven by the necessity of the times. Men of consideration
at Rome placed their sons with him, that he might educate and train
them for the spiritual life. He was enabled to found twelve cloisters ;
and to each he distributed twelve monks under a superior. Some he
retained under his own guidance. - Even (roths of the lower ranks came
tohim: he employed them im such labors as were adapted to their
physical powers and stage of culture, as agriculture, and the removal of
the wild vegetable growth where gardens were to be planted.!
To get rid of the disputes with Florentius, a neighboring priest,
Benedict left this distriet also, after: he had distributed his monks into
different cloisters under suitable superiors. He himself, accompanied
by a few of his followers, retired to the ruins of an ancient castle, which
lay on a high mountain, called: Castrum Cassinum, where he laid the
foundation of one of the most famous of monastie establishments, out of
which sprang afterwards the rich abbey of Monte Cassino. Amid the
revolutions of these times, Paganism had still been able to maintain
itself here among the country people, or to spring up and extend itself
anew. He found standing here a grove and temple dedicated to
Apollo, in which the peasants made their offerings. He conducted the
people, by his preaching, to the faith of the gospel, and induced them
to cut down the grove and demolish the temple. In place of the latter,
he erected a chapel, consecrated to St. Martin. Even Totila, the king
of the Ostro-Goths, evinced his respect for Benedict; and the latter |
spoke to him with freedom. The labors of this man were a fore-type of
the labors of his successors, who, like himself, were occupied mainly in
preaching the faith, destroying Paganism, educating the youth, and cul-
tivating the land, and by these means were enabled to accomplish so
much. But the monastic rules of which he was the author, are partic-
ularly worthy of notice, as an enduring monument of his own spirit, and
of the new shaping which, through his instrumentality, was given to the
Monachism of the West.
Benedict aiméd to counteract the licentious life of the irregular
monks, —who roamed-about the country, and spread a corrupting influ-
ence both on manners and on religion,— by the introduction of a severer
discipline and spirit of order. ‘The abbot should appear to the monks
as the representative of Christ ; to his will, every other will should be
subjected ; all were to follow his direction and guidance unconditionally,
and with entire resignation. No one was received into the number of
the monks, until after a year’s novitiate, during which he had often
been reminded of the strict obligations of the monastic rule, and had
withstood many trials. ‘Then he was obliged to place himself under a
solemn vow, which moreover was recorded by himself in writing, that
he would remain constantly in the cloister,? live in all respects accord-
ing to the rules, and obey the abbot. But the rules admonished the
abbot to temper the severity necessary for discipline, by the spirit of
1 Vita Benedicti. ο. VI. 2 The votum stabilitatis as opposed to the Gyrovagi
264 MONACHISM.
love: He was to let mercy prevail over rigid justice, that he might him-
self find merey. He should love the brethren, while he hated their
faults. Where he was obliged to punish, he should do it with prudence,
and beware of going to excess. His own fallibility should be ever pres-
ent to his mind, and he should remember that the bruised reed ought
not to be broken. Not that he should give countenance and encourage-
ment to vice, but that he should endeavor to extirpate it with prudence
and love, just as he should see it would be salutary for each individual ;
and he should strive rather to be loved than to be feared. He should
not be restless and over-anxious. In no affair whatever should he be
inclined to extremes and obstinate. He should not be jealous, nor too
suspicious ; since otherwise he never could find peace. In his com-
mands, even where they related to worldly employments and labors, he
should proceed with foresight and reflection. He should discriminate
and moderate the labors which he imposed on each individual. He
should take for his pattern the example of prudence presented in the
words of the patriarch Jacob, Gen. 83: 13: “If men should over-
drive them one day, all the flock will die.”” With that discretion which
is the mother of the virtues, he should so order all things as io give full
employment to the enterprise of the strong, without discouraging the weak.
True, humility was too much confounded with slavish fear, and too much
importance was attached to the outward demeanor. The monk was to let
his humility be seen in the postures of his body ; his head should be con-
stantly bowed down with his eyes directed to the earth, and he should
hourly accuse himself for his sins ; he should ever be in the same state
of mind as if he were momently to appear before the dread judgment-
seat of God. But all this, however, Benedict represented to be only a
means of culture, whereby the monks were to attain to the highest end
of love, that makes men free ; respecting the nature of which, he thus
beautifully expresses himself: ‘* When the monk has passed through all
these stages of humility, he will soon attain to that love of God, which,
being perfect, casteth out fear, and through which he will begin to practise
naturally and from custom, without anxiety or pains, all those rules
which he before observed not without fear. He will no longer act from
any fear of hell, but from love to Christ, from the energy of right habits,
and joy in that which is good.”
Benedict was doubtless aware, that the ascetic severity of many
of the monastic orders in the Hast was unsuited to the rude men
of the West, and also to the more unfriendly climate. Hence he did
not require of his monks many of the mortifications which were some-
‘ times imposed upon those of the East, and allowed them in several in-
dulgences, which were there sometimes forbidden ; as, for example, the
use of wine in a prescribed quantity.1 As the monks, in addition to
their devotional exercises and spiritual studies, were also to be employ-
ed at hard labor in the field or in their different trades, and in some
1C. 40. Licet legamus, vinum omnino was to lead only ad honestatem morum et
monachorum non esse, sed quia nostris tem- initium conversationis, not ad perfectionem
poribus id monachis persuaderi non potest; conversationis —that the latter must be
and c. 73, he explains himself that his rule learned from the rules of the fathers
WORLDLY OPPOSITION. 265
‘seasons of the year, particularly seed-time and harvest, might be ex-
posed to severe toil, the prudent Benedict! was careful not to prescribe
any particular measure of food or drink, which was never to be exceed-
ed. The abbot was at liberty to deviate from the general rule, ac-
cording to the labors which devolved on the monks, and according to
~ the season of the year. In like manner, it was strictly enjoined on the
abbot, that he should have respect to the necessities of the sick and
the feeble, of old men and of children, in the regulation of their diet,
and of their occupations. He doubtless foresaw that the monks might
settle down in rough and savage countries, as they afterwards often
did, where they would not find even that measure of food and drink
which he had allowed them. Reckoning on this, he exhorted them to
submission: even then they should praise God, and not murmur.?
Worthy of notice, too, is the pains he took to avoid all appearance of
the love of gain ; laying it down as a rule, that the monks should always
sell the products of their industry at a somewhat lower price than was
given for other worldly fabrics, so that in all things God might be
praised.®
The same circumstances of the times by which so many were induced
to apply to Benedict for the purpose of being formed and disciplined
under his guidance for the spiritual life, tended also to promote the en-
thusiasm for the monastic life which proceeded from Benedict’s disci-
ples, and to further the rapid spread of this form of it by means of his
disciples, such as Placidus and Maurus, in Sicily and in Gaul.
3. The different Tendencies of the Religious Spirit in their relation to ©
the Monastie Life and to Asceticism.
We will now once more cast a glance at the relation of Monachism
to the diiferent tendencies of the religious spirit in this period. There
was a very narrow and bigoted enthusiasm for the monastic life, pro-
ceeding from the same narrow ascetic tendency which first gave birth _
to Monachism, and which was greatly promoted by it;—a tendency
which, while aiming to exhibit Christian perfection in the monastic life,
caused the dignity and elevation of the universal Christian calling to be mis-
apprehended, and contributed very much to lower the standard of piety
in the subordinate positions of the ordinary Christian life. This distine-
tion betwixt Christian perfection in Monachism,* and the ordinary Chris-
tianity of the world and of social life, was taken advantage of by many
worldly men, particularly in large towns, who excused their want of
Christian earnestness and zeal, and the many stains of their lives, with
the Ee that they were no monks, but persons living in the midst of the
world.
But, along with the fanatical enthusiasm in favor of Monachism, there
arose also a blind zeal of another kind in opposition to it. Certainly it
cannot be denied that the many worthless individuals, who only abused
1 Who seems to have possessed himself 3 C. 57.
the donum discretionis. 4 The φιλοσοφία, as it was commonly de-
2C.40. Benedicant Deam et non mur- nominated.
murent.
VOL. Il. 23
266 MONACHISM OPPOSED.
Monasticism to cover up their own wickedness under the show of sane-
tity, and, under this deceptive veil, to gratify their own worldly passions,
mainly contributed to bring the monastic life into hatred and contempt.
True, Salvianus, who lived about the middle of the fifth century, brings
as a proof of the rude and trifling worldly taste which prevailed at that
time in Carthage, that, when monks visited that place from the cloisters
of Egypt or Jerusalem, they were received in the streets with jeers and
curses ;!—-and there may have been some ground for his complaint.
But Nilus, the monk and the zealous friend of Monachism, himself fic:
cuses the worthless monks, who roamed about in the cities, pestered
families by their impudent mendicancy, and, hiding all wickedness
‘under the mask of their seeming holiness, often robbed their hospitable
entertainers. It was owing to such men, that the once universally re-
spected mode of life had become an abomination, and even the true
virtue of the monk looked upon as no better'than hypocrisy ; * — that
those who were once regarded as the censors of manners, were expelled
from the cities as introducers of corruption ;? — that the monks — which
doubtless is an exaggeration — were objects of universal ridicule.*
Yet there were many who, instead of detesting this degenerate species
of Monachism, rather took advantage of the monstrous births in which
this degeneracy was seen, to bring into disrepute this whole mode of
life ; and who hated, in Monachism, not those excesses which ran in
the direction alien from the spirit of Christianity, but precisely those
qualities which were most truly and profoundly Christian in this mode of
life ; — who, with no friendly feelings, felt themselves rebuked and dis-
turbed in their frivolous pursuit after pleasure by such Christian seri-
ousness and strictness of Christian life. The blind zeal of this party for
their convenient, worldly Christianity flamed out with the most violence
on those occasions when the view of the monastic life, or the influence
of pious monks in noble families themselves, had served to awaken there
a more earnest and elevated sense of religion; when they witnessed
in these cases a change of life extending itself which was entirely op-
posed to their inclinations.> Especially when young men of noble birth
were induced by sudden impressions, exciting them to a more serious
turn of life, or through the influence of pious mothers, to pass over to
the monks, not only was the opposition between worldly-minded husbands
‘and their Christian wives, on such occasions, often more strongly ex-
pressed, but kinsmen and friends took a lively interest im the matter:
they considered it a disgrace to the noble family, that young men who
- 1§alvian. de gubernatione Dei, 1. 8, pag.
194, ed. Baluz. Si quando aliquis Dei ser-
vus aut de Agyptiorum ccenobiis aut de
sacris Hierusalem locis aut de sanctis eremi
venerandisque secretis ad urbem illam_ offi-
cio divini operis accessit. simul ut populo
apparuit, contummelias, sacrilegia et maledic-
tiones accipit.
2 Nilus de monastica exercitatione, ¢. 9.
Ὃ περιποϑῆτος βίος ἐγένετο βδελύκτος καὶ
ἡ τῶν ἀληϑῶς Kat’ ἀρέτην βιούντων κτῆσις,
(it should read perhaps ἀσκῆσις,) ἀπάτη νε-
νομίσται.
81. c. Ὥς λυμεώνες ἀπελαύνονται τῶν
πολέων οἱ ποτὲ σωφρονισταΐ.
4 (Ὁ. 992. Παρὰ πάντων χλευάζονται.
5 Thus, in the times, of cardinal Richelieu
and Louis the Fourteenth in France, it was
assuredly not the free spirit of the gospel,
but the frivolous, worldly temper, the Chris-
tianity of polities, the ceremonial religion
of Jesuitism, which is doubtless reconcilea-
ble with them both, which set itself to op-
pose the effects which flowed from the
glowing, ascetic zeal of an abbe St. Cyran
and his followers.
CHRYSOSTOM’S VIEWS. 267
might one day rise to the most splendid posts, should betake themselves
to the mountains and the deserts, go about in the squalid dress of the
monks, weave baskets, cultivate the soil, water gardens, and employ
themselves in other such menial occupations! The whole party
. who detested Monachism, but with it also every other form of earnest
Christian life, was roused to activity on such occasions. When the
emperor Valens, in 865, promulgated a law which, perhaps not without
good grounds, was aimed against those who, under the pretext of reli-
gion, but really for the sake of indulging their indolent propensities and
ridding themselves of the burdens of the state, had withdrawn them-
selves into the monkish fraternities ;? the party above mentioned availed
themselves of this opportunity to institute persecutions against the
monks. Chrysostom, who was at that time himself a zealous monk, felt
himself called upon, on this occasion, to write his three books on Mo-
nachism.
But between these two extremes there was a more moderate party, .
which, while they recognized all that was truly of worth in Monachism,
opposed on evangelical grounds the one-sided over-valuation of this, and
the under-valuation of every other form of life which should equally
be pervaded with the Christian spirit. This tendency is apparent in
the council of Gangra, already mentioned. Here the ascetic and un-
married life was admitted to be, in itself considered, and so far as it
proceeded from a pious disposition, a good thing; but the married
life also, and life in the ordinary civil and social relations, together with
the use of earthly goods, were represented as capable of being sancti- .
fied by a right temper ; and sentence of condemnation was pronounced
on the proud ascetic spirit that despised the common relations of life.
This tendency particularly characterizes Chrysostom. Although him-
self greatly indebted to Monachism for the character of his inner life ;
although everywhere inclined to place a very high value on the victori-
ous power of the will over the sensuous nature, where it was enlivened .
by the spirit of love; although enthusiastically alive to the ideal of holy
temper and holy living in Monachism ; yet he was too deeply penetrated
by the essence of the gospel, not to be aware that the latter should per-
vade all the relations of life. And his large experience, gained at An-
tioch and at Constantinople, had led him to see how mischievous the
delusive notion that men could not strive after the ideal of the Christian
life amid ordinary earthly relations, must be, and had actually been, to
practical Christianity. This delusion, therefore, he sought m every
way to counteract. After having described, in one of his discourses,
the various: means of grace which Christianity furnishes, he supposes
the objection to be raised: ‘* Why say you this to us, who are no
1 See Chrysostomus adversus oppugnato- specie religionis cum ccetibus monazontén
res vite monastica, |. I. ὁ 2. ᾿Ανϑρώπους congregantur, — they should be drawn forth
ἐλεύϑερους καὶ εὐγενεῖς καὶ δυναμένους ἐν from their lurking-places, and compelled to
τρύφῃ ζῇν, ἐπὶ τὸν σκληρὸν τούτον ἀγομένους take on them the burdens of the state; or
ἴον. they should, like the clergy, (see vol. IL
2 Cod. Theodos. 1. 12, Tit. I. 1.63. Qui- sect. 1, p. 139,) give up their property to
dam ignaviz sectatores desertis civitatum others
muneribus captant solitudines ac secreta, et
268 MONACHISM.
monks?’’ And he answers, “ Do you put this question to me? Ask
Paul, when he says, ‘ Watch with all perseverance and supplication,’
Ephes. 6: 18, and ‘ Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ,’ Rom. 13: 14;
for surely he wrote these words, not for monks only, but for all inhabi-
tants of cities. Except in relation to marriage, there ought to be no
distinction between the secular and the monk; everything else the
former is bound to do equally with the latter. And Christ, in the ser-
mon on the mount, confines not his benediction to the monk. Enjoy
the marriage estate with due moderation, and you shall be first in the
kingdom of heaven, and entitled to all its blessings.” And in another
place, where he is speaking of the prophetic visions of Isaiah: ? ** Would
you know how the prophet saw God? Be yourself, too, a prophet.
And how is this possible, do you ask, since 1 have a wife, and must
provide for the bringing up of my children? It is possible, if you do
but will it; for the prophet also had a wife, and was the father of two
children ; but none of these things was a hindrance to him.’ In ex-
pounding the first words of salutation in the epistle to the Ephesians, he
lays particular stress on the circumstance that to men who had wives,
children, and servants, Paul nevertheless applies the appellation of
saints. Although Chrysostom — which may easily be accounted for
in a man of such predominant and lively feelings — did not always ex-
press himself after the same manner; yet when he had become ac-
quainted, from his own experience, with the corruption of the church,
he often declared himself with great energy against the want of Chris-
tian love among the better disposed, who in solitude lived only for their
own improvement, instead of employing the gifts bestowed on them for
the good of others. ““ Behold what perverseness now reigns,” says he in
one passage. ‘They who possess some of the joy of a good conscience
dwell on the tops of mountains, and have torn themselves from the body
of the church, as if it were inimical and alien to them; something not
their own.’’2 Thus, too, he complains, in his szth homily on the first
epistle to the Corinthians,* that they in whom there were still some re-
mains of the old Christian wisdom, had forsaken the cities, the market,
and the intercourse of life, and, imstead of forming others, took posses-
sion of the mountains. ““ How shall we conquer the enemy,” he ex-
claims, ‘‘ when some have no care for virtue, and those who are inter-
ested for it, retreat to a distance from the order of battle?”? And in
another discourse he very justly refers to the parable of the talents, as a
proof that there can be nothing truly good, the advantage of which does
not extend also to others; and he goes on to say: ‘ ‘hough you fast,
though you sleep on the ground, though you eat ashes and mourn per-
petually, but without benefiting any other individual, you will not bring
much to pass. Though you exercise the highest perfection of the
monk, but give yourself no concern that others are going to ruin, you
cannot maintain a good conscience in the sight of God.*® Neither vol-
1 Hom. VII. Hebr. § 4. 4 Hom. VI. ep. I. ad Corinth. § 4.
2 Homilia in Seraphim, § 1. Montfaucon, 5 Κἄν τῆν ἄκραν φιλοσοφίαν ἀσκῆς, τῶν δὲ
VI. f. 138. λοίπων ἀπολλυμένων ἀμελῇς, οὐδεμίαν κτῇσῃ
3 Hom. VII. Ephes. § 4. παρὰ ϑεῷ παῤῥησίαν.
CHRYSOSTOM. JOVINTAN. 269
_untary poverty, nor martyrdom, nor anything else we may do, can tes-
tify in aie favor, if we have not attained to the crowning virtue of
love.”
__As we here perceive, Chrysostom attacked the exaggerated opinion
of Monachism, by assuming for his position the consciousness of the
universal Christian calling, the sense of the principle of holy living,
which he recognized as belonging in common to all true believers; but
he was still too much influenced by the prevailing views of his time to
be able always to carry out and apply that position with logical consist-
ency. It is apparent here, as it often is in his case, that on one side
he was confined by the prevailing spirit of his age; while, on the other,
by his profound insight into the essence of the gospel, he rose above it,
and was thus betrayed into selfcontradiction. On the other hand,
there arose in the Western church, at Rome, another man, who had
the courage and freedom of spirit to express and apply that fundament-
al principle, in direct opposition to the prevailing views of the time, and,
from this main position, to attack the whole ascetic way of estimating
moral worth. This was the monk Jovinian, who flourished near the
end of the fourth century. It may appear singular, that this reiiction
against Monachism should proceed from Monachism itself ; but this was
a natural reiction springing from the inner Christian life, which in many
was roused into action by Monachism — a phenomenon which often oc-
curred. Thus we saw already the indications of such a reiiction in the
case of a Nilus and of a Marcus.
Jovinian, the protestant of his time, went on the principle, ‘ that
there is but one divine element of life, which all believers share in -
common ; but one fellowship with Christ, which proceeds from faith in
him; but one new birth. All who possess this in common with each
other — all, therefore, who are Christians in the true sense, not barely in
outward profession — have the same calling, the same dignity, the same
heavenly blessings; the diversity of outward circumstances creating no
difference in this respect.” Accordingly he supposes an opposition .
altogether universal, admitting of no intermediate link, no grade of dif-
ference, between those who find themselves in this state of grace, and
those who are shut out from it. Hence he derives the conclusion, that the
life of celibacy or that of marriage, eating or fasting, the using or forbear-
ing to use earthly goods, all this can make no difference between
Christians, where the same one ground of the Christian life is present.
Everything depends on the inward Christian life, on the temper of the
heart, not on the outward forms of life and on outward works by them-
selves considered, in which forms and works the temper which makes
the Christian only reveals itself. Of course, the whole theory respecting
a loftier, ascetic stage of Christian perfection, respecting the difference
between the counsels which Christ gave to those only who strove after
that stage of perfection, and the ordinary duties incumbent on all Christ-
ians, respecting the merit of certain outward works, fell to the ground.
“‘ Virgins, widows, and married women,” said he, “ who have been
1 Fpist. I. ad Corinth. H. 25.
VOL. II. 23*
210 MONACHISM.
once baptized into Christ, have the same merit, if, in respect to works,
there is otherwise no difference between them.! The apostle Paul says,
‘Know ye not, that your body is a temple of the Holy Ghost?’ He
speaks of one temple, not in the plural number, to denote that God
dwells after the same manner in all. And as the Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost are one God, so should there be also but one people in
them, John 17 : 21, that is, his dear children, who are partakers of the
divine nature.2- The apostle John makes no other distinction than one,
between those who are born of God and sin not, and those who are
not born of God. Christ makes no other separation than that between
those who stand on the right and those who stand on the left hand, the
sheep and the goats.”’
Jovinian did not allow himself to be hurried on by an inconsiderate
zeal unconditionally to condemn fasting, the life of celibacy, Monachism,
considered purely by themselves, though, in other respects, he seems to
have been inclined to extremes in polemical matters. Estimating the
power and worth of Christianity only by its imfluence on the temper, it
was therefore the temper only which he attacked in the present case ;
the presumption and arrogance which attributed to the unmarried and
ascetic life, a peculiar merit beyond the other tendencies of the Christ-
‘jan life generally. Hence he continued to live as a monk himself, and so
refuted the charge that he had devised such doctrines merely for the
sake of liberating himself from a yoke which was irksome to him. “ It
amounts to the same thing,” said he, ““ whether a person abstain from
this or that food, or partakes of it with thanksgiving. I do thee no
injustice,” he remarked, addressing those who lived in celibacy ; “τῇ
thou hast chosen the unmarried life on the ground of a present necessi-
ty, be careful only not to exalt thyself. ‘Thou art a member of the
same church to which the married also belong.”’ He merely sought
to show, that men were wrong in recommending so highly and indis-
criminately the life of celibacy and fasting, though he was ready to
admit, that both, under certain circumstances, might be good and bene-
ficial.
In respect to marriage, he appealed in its defence to the fact, that
50 great worth was ascribed to it immediately at the creation ; and that
it might not be said that this had reference to the Old Testament alone,
the same testimony had been confirmed by Christ, Gen. 2: 24; Matth.
19:5. He adduced the example of the married saints, from the Old
Testament, to defend himself against the common objection, that this
applied only to the early infancy of mankind, when the multiplication of
the race was particularly necessary ; and added such proof passages
from the New Testament as 1 Timoth.5: 14; Heb.13: 4; 1 Corinth.
7:39; 1 Timoth. 2: 14.3 He pointed to the fact, that Paul required
1 Virgines, viduas, et maritatas, que se-
mel in Christo lot sunt, si non discrepant
ceteris operibus, ejusdem esse meriti.
2 Et quomodo Pater et Filius et Spiritus
Sanctus unus Deus; sic et unus populus in
ipsis sit, hoc est quasi filii carissimi, diving
consortes nature.
8-It is worthy of notice, that Jerome (I.I.
§ 30, contra Jovinian) cited the whole book
of Solomon’s Song as an evidence in favor
of marriage. From this we might infer,
that he rejected the mystical interpretation
of that book, which was then common; and
in this case we should have here another
JOVINIAN. 271
_of the bishop and deacon only that each should be the husband of one
wife, that he accordingly sanctioned the marriage of the clergy. In
respect of fasts, he cited Rom. 14: 20; 1 Timoth. 4:3; that, ac-
cording to the declaration of Paul, to the pure all things are pure ;
that Christ was pronounced by the Pharisees a man gluttonous and a
wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners ; that he did not disdain
the banquet of Zaccheus, and that he attended the marriage-feast at
Cana.1_ Christ chose the wine for the sacrament of the supper, the
wine as a holy symbol.? He says, justly, that those mortifications
could not be possessed of any peculiar Christian character, since they
were practised also among the Pagans in the worship of Cybele and
of Isis.2 But it must have been an extremely contracted notion
of final ends, which led him to understand the proposition, that all
other creatures are made for the use of man, in the sense that they
were intended only to subserve man’s sensual wants. Accordingly he
reckoned up a number of animals, which, if they were not to serve as
food for man, were created by God to no purpose, and he inferred
that therefore it must have been the Creator’s design that man should
eat flesh ;* a conclusion which Jerome found it quite easy to refute.
Not merely in reference to the outward works of asceticism, but also
in other respects, Jovinian took a decided stand against that false di-
rection of the moral spirit of his age, which looked to external works
alone, instead of looking only at the temper of the heart ; as was seen,
for example, in the exaggerated opinion entertained of martyrdom, solely
on the ground of the outward suffermg. He expressed himself as fol-
lows: ‘* A person may be burnt, strangled, beheaded, in a time of per-:
secution, or he may flee or die in the prison. These are indeed ditfer-
ent kinds of conflict ; but there is only one crown of victory.”
The false direction of morals against which Jovinian took his stand,
having its ground in the fact that men did not apprehend the Christian
life on the side of its inward connection with faith, it came about for
this very reason, that to outward works was ascribed a meritoriousness.
of various degrees ; and the fear of future punishment, the aspiration
after the higher stages of blessedness, were employed as incentives to
moral and ascetic exertions. Jovinian, on the other hand, went on the
principle that the true Christian, who by faith has become partaker of
proof of the more liberal, inquiring spirit isse: hoc comedo, illud non comedo, nolo
of the man. But the language which he
employs respecting the church, (Jerome,
1. IL. ὁ 19.) sola novit canticum Christi,
seems, notwithstanding, to point to a mys-
tical interpretation of Solomon’s Song. In
the present case, we can understand the ar-
gumentation of Jovinian only as follows:
The holiest of things, the union of Christ
with his church, would not have been rep-
resented here under such images, so carried
out, if the union betwixt tbe two sexes
were not a sacred thing.
1 Jovinian’s manner is characteristically
presented in the words: Porro aliud est, si
stulta contentione dicitis, eum isse ad pran-
dium jejunaturum, et impostorum more dix-
vinum bibere, quod ex aquis creayi.
2 In typo sanguinis sui non obtulit aquam,
sed vinum. From the fact that the word
“typus” is here employed, it cannot be di-
rectly inferred, that he ascribed to the sacra-
ment of the supper only a symbolical sig-
nificancy ; for this name is given to the ex-
ternal symbols, as such, even by those who
attached other notions to them; for exam-
ple, by Cyril of Jerusalem. dt
8 Quasi non et superstitio gentilium cas-
tum matris Deum observet et Isidis.
4 Quis usus porcorum absque esu_carni-
um? Quid caprezx, cervuli, ete. Cur in
domibus gallina discurrit? Si non come-
duntur, hxc omnia frustra a Deo creata sunt.
212 MONACHISM.
a divine life, is already certain of his salvation. He has nothing higher
to aspire after, than that which is already secured to him by faith: he
needs only to preserve what he has received, to seek to persevere in
the state of grace in which he has once been placed ;—and this can be
done only in the progressive life of holmess. ‘If you ask me,” said
he, ““ wherefore the just man should be attively exerting himself,
whether in times of peace or of persecution, when there is no progress,
when there are no greater rewards; I answer, he does this, not that
he may deserve something more, but that he may not lose what he has
already received.” 1
Wherever there is a living faith, there, according to J ovinian, is fel-
lowship with the Redeemer ; there is divine life ; ; and wherever this is,
there it comes off victorious, by its own intrinsic power over all evil ;
there sin can find no entrance. The good tree can bring forth only
good fruit-; the evil tree must bring forth evil fruit. He who is born
of God, doth not commit sin. Hence it also followed, that whoever had,
by regeneration, received the divine life, could not any longer live in
that slavish fear of sin to which the monastic asceticism had linked itself,
together with its preventive remedies and cunningly devised tricks for
foiling Satan. See above. In opposing this painful asceticism, Jovin-
ian remarked, ‘‘ He who is baptized, cannot be tempted of the devil.”
As he proceeded on the principle of referring the inward life to Christ
as its source, he must have understood here by baptism, not so much
an outward baptism operating with the power of a charm, as the in-
ward baptism growing out of faith, the baptism of the Spirit. “ In those
who are tempted,” says he, ‘it is seen, that, like Simon Magus, they
have received only the water, not the spiritual baptism. ‘The spiritual
baptism they only have received, who have been baptized with the
genuine faith by which regeneration is obtained.” ? The first of the
above-cited passages might be so understood, as if Jovinian considered
the state of the regenerate to be one beyond the reach of all temptations ;
in which view he might justly be charged with teaching a practically
mischievous error. But this assuredly could not be his meaning ; for
otherwise he could not have spoken of the moral efforts of the just man.
See above. And moreover, he himself clearly explains how he understands
the phrase ‘to be tempted,” in that proposition, when he says, that
such a person cannot be overcome by Satan in temptations, cannot be
plunged into guilt.
Without doubt, however, Jovinian must have supposed, according to
this assertion, that he who had been once really regenerated, could not
1 As we have remarked already, that the
views of Jovinian are not to be considered
as wholly insulated from all other phenom-
ena of the age, but as connected with a
more general reaction of the Christian
spirit excited by Monachism itself; so we
may observe in the present case a remarka-
ble analogy between Jovinian’s expressions
and those of the monk Marcus; for also
Marcus says: “ We who have been deemed
worthy of the laver of regeneration, offer
good works, not for: the sake of a reward,
but to preserve the purity which has been
imparted to us.” Ὅσοι τοῦ λούτρου τῆς
παλιγγενεσίας ἠξιωϑήμεν, τὰ ἄγαϑα ἔργα οὐ
δι’ ἀνταπόδοσιν προσφέρομεν, ἀλλὰ διὰ φυλα-
κῆν τῆς δοϑείσης ἡμῖν καϑαρόώτητος. Bibl.
patr. Galland. T. VIII. ἢ. 14, καὶ 29,
2 Plena tide in baptismate renati.
3 Eum a diabolo non posse subverti. Ac-
cording to Jerome, :i in the beginning of hig
first book against Jovinian.
JOVINIAN. 273
again fall from the state of grace ;— that whenever one who appeared
to have been baptized, to believe, was surprised into sin, this was evi-
dence that he did not as yet possess living faith, had not as yet been
really renewed.
As it is extremely easy for a man, in combating one error, to fall into
another of an opposite kind, so it seems to have happened with Jovi-
nian. We noticed how, in opposition to the over-valuation of a certain
species of outward works, and to the theory of a certain loftier, ascetic
Christian perfection, he gave prominence to the unity of the divine
life in all believers. Again, Jovinian attacked the arbitrary theory,
grounded on a misconception of the passage in 1 John, 5: 17, accord-
ing to which sins were classified, by reference solely to the outward act,
into mortal (peccata mortalia) and venial sins, (peccata venialia,) a divi-
sion by which the number of sins excluding from eternal life was often
extremely limited. In opposition to such a theory, he maintained that
the gospel required, and brought along with it, a new, holy disposition,
with which every sin, of whatever kind it might be, stood directly op-
posed ; that the new man, the new life from God, excluded everything
sinful; that as all goodness springs out of the same disposition of love
to God, so, too, all sm, however different it might be in outward appear-
ance, proceeded from the same fountain, manifested the same ungodly
life. Christ says: “" Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood,
dwelleth in me, and 1 in him.” As Christ then dwells in us without any
grade of distinction whatever, so we also dwell in Christ without any
degree of difference. ‘Ifa man love me,” saith the Lord, ‘“ he will.
keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto
him and make our abode with him.”” Whoever is righteous, loves, and .
whoever loves, to him come the Father and Son, and they dwell in his
tabernacle. But where such an inhabitant is, there I think nothing
can be wanting to the owner of the dwelling. The gospel presents five
virgins that were foolish, and five that were wise: the five who had no |
oil, remained without; the other five, who had prepared themselves with
the light of good works, entered with the bridegroom into the bride-
chamber. The righteous were saved with Noah, the sinners were de-
stroyed together. In Sodom and Gomorrah, no other distinction was
made account of than that between the righteous and the wicked. The
just were delivered, all the sinners were consumed by the same fire.
One salvation for those that were saved, one destruction for those that
remained behind. Lot’s wife is a witness, how no allowance can be
made for swerving from righteousness, even in the least respect. Who-
ever says to his brother, “Thou fool, and Raca,” is in danger of hell-fire.
And whoever is a murderer or an adulterer, is in like manner cast into
hell-fire. So, too, he maintained that it was the same thing whether a
man became converted early or late. The moment men entered through
faith into fellowship with the Redeemer, there was no longer any differ-
ence between them; they all possessed the same. ‘ Between the
brother who was always with the father, and him who was received
afterwards because he had repented, there was no difference. ‘The la-
borers of the first, the third, the sixth, the ninth, and the eleventh hour,
214 MONACHISM.
received each alike one penny ; and that you may wonder the more, the
payment begins with those who had labcred the shortest time in the vine-
yard.” But Jovinian did not here consider that although the divine
life, as a common property of all who believe, is one and the same, yet
different stages are to be found in its development, and in the degree
in which man’s nature is assimilated and pervaded by it; that, along
with the divine life, the principle of sin still continues to linger in be-
lievers, which may more or less prevail, or be overcome and suppressed
by the divine principle of life; and that in this respect it is assuredly
right to speak of a more or less, of a distinction of degrees, as well
with regard to goodness as to 81η.1 This error lies at the root also of
Jovinian’s mode of expression, whereby he represents sanctification as a
mere preserving of that which had been once received,” but not as a
progressive development of it.?
If, then, in connection with this doctrine, he maintained that a person
once regenerated could not be drawn into sin, and if he allowed of no
distinction between the outward manifestations of sin; the consequence
necessarily follows, that the regenerate individual might indeed be
tempted to sin, but could never be so overcome by temptation as to be
led into actual sin. Thus his theory would unquestionably conduct to
a result contradictory to the universal experience of Christians, which
could only be adhered to by a system of self-deception. How far he
was really involved in this his one-sided theory, plainly appears from
the extremely tortuous methods of explanation by which he seeks to
1 Excellent are the remarks which Liicke
takes occasion to introduce respecting Jo-
vinian, in his beautiful commentary on the
epistles of John, for which, certainly, many
will join me in thanking him. P. 166. “Jo-
vinian stood at the same ideal position with
John; and his ethico-critical efforts, in the
spirit of a reformer, were aimed especially
in opposition to the mock holiness, the ex-
ternality, and half-way. character of the
Christian life of his time, to reassert, in its
full clearness, precision and truth, the fun-
damental moral conception and ideal of the
gospel.” I conld only wish to say in addi-
tion, that Jovinian, in opposing the ideal
standard of Christianity to that which, hav-
ing regard barely to the manifestation, and
hence overlooking its connection with the
idea, respected the mere appearance, failed
to distinguish sufficiently between the ideal
“ position, “and that of the manifestation ;— a
distinction which John was careful to observe.
Thus he was led in a certain sense to con-
found the two positions with each other.
2 Undoubtedly this expression, in itself
considered, may admit also of being under-
stood in an altogether faultless sense, so far
as all pure development may be regarded
as a preserving, securing, and maintaining
in its purity of the original principle; and
80, too, all progressive sanctification may be.
considered as the preserving of the divine
life imparted by regeneration; as the pre-
serving of the state of innocence into which
man has entered through justification. Yet,
at the same time, it seems to me to follow
necessarily from the whole connection of
ideas to be found in the rest of Jovinian’s
writings, that. he gave such undue promi-
nence to the notion of constancy, as was
inconsistent with the notion of progressive
development in the Christian life.
3 In the case above cited, where Jovinian
remarks that there is no ditference between
virgins, widows, and married women, pro-
vided only they do not differ in respect to
their other works, the passage might, to be
sure, be so understood as if he meant to
assert a possible difference in respect to
good works, and accordingly would admit
the existence of distinctions in the estima-
tion of moral character. But according to
the connection of his ideas as elsewhere
exhibited, with which this assertion would
otherwise clash, we must conceive, unless
we are willing to suppose him inconsistent
with himself, that he understood. his own
position in the following sense: provided
only they did not so differ in respect to
their other works, as that some of them
manifested by their conduct the true bap-
tism of the Spirit, while the others showed
by their conduet that they had not received
any such baptism, but only the outward
baptism of appearance.
JOVINIAN. 275
bring the passages of scripture, adduced against him by the other party,
into harmony with that theory.1
We must notice too, by the way, a point which belongs strictly to
the evolution of the idea of the church, but which we bring in here on
account of the connection in which this point stands also with Jovinian’s
whole mode of thinking. As he begins and proceeds, in his entire the-
ory, by immediately referring the inner life of each individual, through
faith, to Christ, without presupposing any external medium of commu-
nication ; as, in his way of thinking, the notion of fellowship with Christ
had precedence of the notion of the church; so this latter notion, too,
must, in his system, take an altogether different position. The notion
of the invisible church, as a community of believers and redeemed sin-
ners, spiritually united, was by him made far more prominent than the
notion of the visible church, derived from outward tradition. ‘The
church, founded on hope, faith, and charity, is exalted above every at-
tack. No unripe member is within it— all its members are taught of
God. No person can break within its enclosure by violence, nor creep
in by fraud.” ? It is plainly evident that Jovinian could only have un-
derstood by the church, here, the znvistble church. So, too, in the follow-
ing predicates which he applies to the church: “ The titles bride, sister,
mother — and whatever other names you may think of—refer to the
community of the one church, which is never without her bridegroom,
without her brother, without her son. She has one faith, and within
her there arise no schisms by means of erroneous doctrines. She ever
remains a virgin to whom the Lamb goes; him she follows, and she
alone knows the song of Christ.”’ Of course he can understand by the
church, here, only the community of true believers.
Jovinian’s reasons against the worth of the unmarried life found ad-
mittance among the laity, monks and nuns, in Rome.* But it was natu-
ral that the Roman bishop Siricius, with whom we have already become
acquainted, as a zealous opponent of married priests, should declare
strongly against the doctrines of Jovinian. At a Roman synod, held ἡ
1 Thus when, in objection to his views,
the parable was cited of the different meas-
ure of increase from the scattered seed,
according to the different quality of the soil
on which it fell, Matth. 13, Luke 8, Mark 4,
he maintained that the only point to be
held fast here was the difference between
the good and the bad ground. ΑἹ] the rest
belonged not to the matter of comparison, but
to the decoration. of the figure; and in fa-
vor of this explanation he urged the absurd
argument, that the difference of numbers
could be of no importance here, because
Mark pursued the reverse order in his enu-
meration. Numerum non facere prejudi-
cium, praesertim quum et evangelista Mar-
cus retrorsum numeret.: To defend himself
against the application of the words in
John 14: 2, “In my Father’s house are
many mansions,” which in faet could be
employed by his adversaries in fayor of their
own side only in a way running directly
countér to the connection in which they are
found, he opposed it by another interpreta-
tion no less contradictory to the connection
of the passage, maintaining that by the dif-
ferent mansions were to be understood sim-
ply the different church communities on
earth, which still constituted, however, but
one church of God. Non in regno ceelo-
rum diversas significat mansiones; sed ec-
clesiarum in toto orbe numerum, quz con-
stat una per septem (h. 6. in septem ecclesiis
apocalypseés nomnisi una ecclesia.) _ ᾿
2 Scimus ecclesium spe, fide, caritate, m-
accessibilem, inexpugnabilem ; non est im
ea immaturus, omnis docibilis, (scil. a Deo,
as the Vulgate translates the term ϑεοδιδάκ-
τος.) impetu irrumpere vel arte eludere, (it
should read perhaps, i/ludere, enter in by
trick, by deception,) potest nullus.
8 Augustin. Hares. 82, Retract. II. 22.
210 MONACHISM. JEROME.
in 390, he pronounced, in the harshest and most unjustifiable language,!
sentence of condemnation on Jovinian and eight of his adherents.?
Jovinian betook himself to Milan, and there perhaps sought to shelter
himself under the protection of the emperor then residing in that place.
But here he was opposed by the mighty influence of the bishop Am-
brose, who had already been made acquainted with the affair by the
synodial letter of Siricius,.and who, as a zealous promoter of the ascetic:
tendency and of Monachism, could be no otherwise than a zealous op-
ponent of Jovinian. In his reply to Siricius, written in the name of a
synod held at Milan, he declared his agreement with the judgment pro-
nounced by the latter. Jovinian and his friends were banished from
Milan. But perhaps the silent working of his influence continued to be
felt there, if it were not the case that, independent of him, a similar reiic-
tion proceeding out of Monachism itself called forth there an opposition
to the spirit of monkish morality.
Ambrose must also witness the influence of these principles among
his own monks at Milan. Two persons of this order, Sarmatio and Bar-
batianus, attracted notice, who, like Jovinian, disputed the peculiar
merit of the unmarried life.? Not being allowed freely to express
their principles in the cloister, they released themselves from that
yoke. Next they repaired to the church at Vercelli, where perhaps,
as the church happened at that time to be without a bishop, they hoped to
find a better reception, and to be able to propagate their principles with
less danger of disturbance. But the bishop Ambrose immediately sent
warning of them ina letter, which he addressed to the church. He
accused them of spreading such doctrines, as that the baptized needed
not concern themselves about striving after virtue; that excess in eating
and drinking could do them no harm; that it was foolish in them to ab-
stain from the enjoyments of life ; that virgins and widows ought to
marry. But, in a statement of this sort, it is easy to see the distort
ing influence of passion. Taking these charges in connection with the
doctrine of Jovinian and the other positions held by these men, it be-
comes probable, that with Jovinian they intended merely to affirm :
‘Whoever received the baptism of the Spirit, possessed means
enough for overcoming sin, and needed not to have recourse to a pain-
ful asceticism.”
As to the rest, Jerome, the warm opponent of Jovinian, by the ex-
aggerated statements into which he continually fell in conducting his
attacks, served rather to place the cause which he defended in an un-
1 He calls Jovinian luxuriz magister.
2 Incentores nove heresis et blasphemize
divina sententia et nostro judicio in perpe-
tuum damnati. For the rest, even Siricius
witnesses of the spread of these doctrines,
when he says: Sermo hereticorum intra
ecclesia cancri more serpebat.
8 When Ambrose accuses them besides
of asserting: Delirare eos, qui jejuniis cas-
tigent carnem suam, ut menti subditam fa-
ciant, — this may perhaps be a consequence
of his own drawing. :
4 Ambrose intimates himself, that nothing
could be objected to them as long as they
were at Milan. He points to the reason
which chiefly induced them to leave the
cloister, when he says: interdicta ludibrio-
se disputationi licentia. But it was an
ungrounded inference of his own making,
when he accuses them of having left the
cloister, because they could not indulge, as
they wished, in riotous living, nullus erat
luxuriz locus.
5 Lib. 10, ep. 82, ed. Basil.
AUGUSTIN. VIGILANTIUS. 277
favorable light, and to further that of his opponent ; for it seemed,
according to the statements of the former, that his opponent was right
in asserting that men could not extol the life of celibacy without depre-
ciating the state of marriage, which Christ has sanctioned, and thereby
outraging the common sense and feeling of Christian men. Augustin,
" perceiving this, was led to write his book de bono conjugali, in which
he sought to to do away the above-mentioned objection, by acknowledg-
ing the worth of marriage, and yet ascribing a still higher stage of
Christian life to the state of celibacy, when chosen out of a right temper
of heart. In this tract he distinguishes himself, not only for his greater
moderation, but also for a more correct judgment of the ascetic life in
its connection with the whole Christian temper; as it is in fact the
great merit generally of his mode of apprehending the Christian sys-
tem of morals, that, like Jovinian, he opposed the tendency to set a value
upon the outward conduct, outward works, as an opus operatum, without
regard to their relation to the disposition of the heart. By giving
prominence to the latter, Augustin approached Jovinian ; and he would
have come still nearer to him, had he not been on so many sides fet-
tered to the church spirit of his times.
Among the opponents of the ascetic spirit and of Monachism, should
be noticed, also, a person respecting whom we shall have occasion to
speak again, as an antagonist of the prevailing tendencies of the church
spirit, —the presbyter Vigilantius. He probably believed that the
words of our Lord to the rich young man were misapprehended, (see
above,) when taken, as they were by many, in the sense of an invitation
to give all they possessed, at once, to the poor, and to retire among the
monks. Zhey, he maintained, who managed their own property, and
distributed its income gradually among the poor, did better than those
who gave away the whole at once. It behoved each individual to pro-
vide rather for the wants of the poor of his own neighborhood, instead
of sending his money to Jerusalem, for the support of the poor who
were there, (the monks.) ‘‘ Should all retire from the world, and live
in deserts,”’ said he, ‘‘ who would remain to support the public worship
of God? Who would exhort sinners to virtue? This would be not to
fight, but to fly.”
But such individual voices could effect nothing of importance against
a tendency of the church which was so decided, nor could they coun-
teract a form of church life which had already become so prevalent.
Monachism, in fact, was to be preserved; furnishing, as it did, so impor-
tant a means for the diffusion of Christianity and of Christian culture
in the succeeding centuries.
1 Thus Augustin, as well as Jovinian,
says, that true martyrdom consists in the
disposition of the mind; and that a man
who had no outward call to become a mar-
tyr, yet, in the temper on which all moral
worth depends, might be quite equal to the
martyrs. Thus it was also with regard to
abstinence. So Abraham, although he lived
in marriage because this was agreeable to
VOL. 11.
the then stage of the development of God’s
kingdom, might, in the Christian virtue of
abstinence and self-denial, be fully equal to
the Christians who led a life of celibacy in
a holy temper. Continentie virtutem in
habitu animi semper esse debere, in opere
autem pro rerum et temporum opportunl-
tate manifestari.
ν᾿.
278 RELATION OF WORSHIP TO CHRISTIAN LIFE.
11. CaristrAN WorsHIP.
1. Relation of Christian Worship to the whole ante ΤΙ the Chris-
tian Life.
As the consciousness of the universal Christian priesthood was gradu-
ally supplanted by the idea of a class of men particularly consecrated
to God, whose peculiar business it was to devote their time and thoughts
to divine things ; so, too, the original relation, grounded in the essence
of Christianity, of the common worship of Christians to the whole circle
of Christian life, respecting which we spoke in the preceding period,
was continually becoming obliterated. Men forgot that Christian wor-
ship is not confined to any particular place, times, or actions, but was
meant to embrace the entire life, consecrated to God. Yet the more
distinguished church-teachers, such as Chrysostom and Augustin, well
understood, that living Christianity could proceed only out of that oriz-
inal Christian consciousness, to which the whole Christian life presented
itself as a worship of God in spirit and in truth ; and they labored tc
revive this consciousness, — to counteract, in every way, that delusive
notion, which placed the essence of Christianity in the opus operatum of
joining in outward acts of worship, and to introduce the point of view
into practical life, that instruction in divine truth, reading of the Holy
Scriptures, and prayer, were not to be confined solely to the church as.
semblies, but should be diffused through the whole of the Christian lite.
Accordingly Chrysostom, in his sixth discourse against the confounding of
Christianity and Judaism,! observes, that ‘‘ God permitted the single
temple at Jerusalem to be destroyed, and erected in its stead a thou-
sand others of far higher dignity than that; for the apostle declares, ‘ Ye
are the temple of the living God.’ Adorn this house of God, drive from
it all wicked thoughts, so that you may be a temple of the Spirit, and
make others do so too.” ‘‘ Christians,” he remarks in another dis-
course, ‘should not merely celebrate one single day as a feast ; for
the apostle says, 1 Corinth. 5: 8: ‘ Let us keep the feast, not with old
leaven,’ &c. We are not to stand by the ark of the covenant and by
the golden altar, — we, whom the Lord of all existence himself has made
his own dwelling, and who continually hold converse with him by
prayer, by the celebration of the holy supper, by the sacred scriptures,
by alms, and by the fact that we bear him in our hearts. What need
therefore of the sabbath, to him who celebrates a continual feast, who
has his conversation in heaven? Let us, then, celebrate a continual
. feast, and let us do no sin; for thes is the keeping of the feast.’’?_ In
opposition to those who thought themselves righteous because they
regularly attended church, he says: ‘If a child daily goes to school
and yet learns nothing, would that be any excuse for him? — would it
not rather serve to aggravate his fault ?- Just so it is with us; for we
go to the church, not merely for the sake of spending a few moments
there, but that we may go away with some great gain in spiritual things.
If we depart empty, our very zeal in attending the sanctuary will re
1 Ady. Judxos, VI. ὁ 7, T. I. 661. 2H. 39, in Matth. § 8, ed. Montf. T. VII. f. 435
+t.
CHRYSOSTOM’S VIEWS OF WORSHIP. 279
dound to our condemnation But that this may not be the result, let
us, on leaving this place, friends with friends, fathers with their children,
masters with their servants, exercise ourselves in reducing to practice
the lessons we have here learned. This momentary exhortation cannot
extirpate every evil ; the husband should hear it again at home from
~ his wife, the wife from her husband.’?!_ And im another discourse :?
“« When you have sung together two or three Psalms, and superficially
gone through the ordinary prayers, and then return home, you suppose
this suffices for your salvation. Have you not heard what the prophet,
or rather what God, through the mouth of the prophet, says: ‘ This peo-
ple honor me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.’?”? He was
ever pressing this point, that every house should be a church; every
father of a family, a shepherd for his household ; that he was equally
responsible for the welfare of all its members, even for that of the do-
mestics, whom the gospel placed on a level with all other men in their
relation to God. He complains that, whilst in the early Christian times
the house was by the love of heavenly things converted into a church, the
church itself was now, through the earthly direction of thought in those
that visited it, converted into an ordinary house.* Augustin, likewise,
says to the members of his community: ‘It is your business to make
the most of your talent: each man should be a bishop in his own house ;
he must see to it, that his wife, his son, his daughter, his servant, (since
he is bought with so great a price,) persevere in the true faith. The
apostolical teaching placed the master above the servant, and bound the
servant to obedience towards his master; but Christ has paid one ran- |
som for both.”’® i
In respect particularly to prayer, Chrysostom often took ground
against the delusive notion, which grew out of that Jewish tendency,
that unevangelical distinction of secular and spiritual things, which we
must so often allude to, as though this duty might not and ought not
to be performed in every place, and during the ordinary business of |
life, which indeed should be sanctified thereby, as well as in the church.
“When Christ came,” says he, “he purified the whole world ; every
place became a house of prayer. For this reason, Paul exhorts us
to pray everywhere with boldness, and moreover, without doubting.
1 Timoth. 2: 8. Mark you, how the world has been purified? As it
regards the place, we may everywhere lift up holy hands ; for the whole
earth has become consecrated, more consecrated than the holy of
holies.” © After having remarked that all the works of the frail earthly
life should flow from prayer, and find support in the same, he supposes
it objected by a worlaly man of those times: ‘‘ How can a man of busi-
ness, a man tied to the courts of justice, pray and resort to the church
thrice ina day?” And he replies: “It is possible and very easy ; for, if
you cannot easily repair to the church, you may at least pray before
1H. V. de statuis, § 7, T. ID. f. 71. 4In Matth. H. 32, § 7. Tore αἱ οἰκίαι
2 Hom. XI. in Matth. § 7. ἐκκλησίαι ἧσαν, viv δὲ ἡ ἐκκλησία οἰκία γέ-
8 Hom. VI. in Genesin, § 2. ᾿Εκκλησίαν γονεν.
ποιῆσόν σοῦ τὴν οἰκίαν, καὶ yap καὶ ὑπεύϑυ- 5S. 94,
voc εἶ καὶ τῆς τῶν παιδίων καὶ τῆς τῶν οἰκέτων 6 Homil. I. de cruce et latrone, § 1, T. IL
σωτηοίας f. 404.
280 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
the door, and that even though you may be tied to the courts of justice:
for it needs not so much the voice, as the disposition of the heart; not
so much the outstretched hands, as the devotional soul ; not so much this
or the other posture, as the mind.” He then goes on to say: “ It is
not here as in the Old Testament. Wherever you may be, you still
have the altar, the sacrificial knife, and the offermg by you; for you
yourself are priest, altar, and sacrifice. Wherever yon are, you may
raise an altar, by simply cherishing a devout and serious temper. Place
and time are no hindrance. Though you bow not the knee, though you
beat not the breast, though you stretch not your hands to heaven, but
only manifest a warm heart, you have all that belongs to prayer. The
wife, while she holds in her lap the spindle and spins, can with her soul
look up to heaven, and call with fervency on the name of the Lord. It
is possible for this man to offer a fervent prayer, while he is on his way
alone to the market ; for that other to lift up his soul to God, who sits
in his shop and sews leather; and the servant who makes purchas-
es, goes errands, or sits in the kitchen, has nothing to hinder him from
doing the same thing.” ἢ
To this period also was transmitted from the primitive Christian
times the right, closely connected with the consciousness of the univer-
sal Christian priesthood, and belonging to all Christians, of instructing
and edifying themselves by goimg directly to the fountain of the divine
word. Hence manuscripts of the Bible were multiplied, and exposed
for sale.2 It was regarded as the chief part of a pious Christian edu-
cation, both in men and women, to become early familiar with the holy
scriptures. Thus Jerome notices it of Laeta, a noble Roman lady, that
she taught her daughter, from early childhood, to cultivate a love for the
sacred scriptures instead of jewelry and silks ;? that she learned pa-
tience from the example of Job; that she never suffered the gospel to
be out of her reach.t| Among both women and men, of whatever rank
in society, it was regarded as the characteristic mark of those with
whom Christianity was a serious concern of the heart, that they were
much occupied with the study of the Bible;— as the examples of
Monica and Nonnashow. ‘The rhetorical preacher who pronounced the
funeral discourse on the younger Constantine, mentions it to his praise
that he constantly nourished his soul out of the sacred writings, and
formed his life by their precepts. This, perhaps, may be regarded as
nothing more than empty eulogy; but it enables us nevertheless to see
what was reckoned in this age as belonging to the qualities of a pious
prince. When Pagans who were inquiring after the truth, found diffi-
culties in the Christian doctrines, they did not repair at once, as a
matter of course, to the clergy, but oftentimes to their friends among
the Christian laity. These sought for a solution of the questions pro-
1De Anna 5. IV. § 6, T. IV. f. 738. positura de manibus. Comp. above, the
2 Scriptura venalis fertur per publicam. examples from the rule of Basil, and what
Augustin. in Ps. 36, S. I. § 2. Gregory of Nyssa says respecting the edu-
3 Ep. 107, § 12. Pro gemmis et serico, di- cation of Macrina.
vinos codices amet. 5 Anonymi monod. in Constantin. jun,
4In Job virtutis et patientise exempla p.7,ed. Morell. ᾿Εντεῦϑεν καὶ βίον ἐκόσ
sectetur, ad evangelia transeat, nunquam ea pet καὶ ἦϑος ἐῤῥύϑμιζε,
GENERAL READING OF THE BIBLE. 281
posed to them in the holy scriptures; and when they met with difficul-
ties there too hard for them to solve, Augustin invites them not so
much to seek instruction from their spiritual guides, as to pray for light
from above.1 For those who were awakened by the public worship of
God to more serious reflection on divine truth, or who were desirous
of studying the scriptures in a more quiet way, rooms were provided
and furnished with Bibles in the galleries of the church, (φροντιστήρια,)
to which they could retire for the purpose of reading and meditation.?
Jerome complains of it as an evil that men and women all thought them-
selves competent to discourse, however deficient their knowledge, on the
right interpretation of the sacred volume.?
The clergy were not the first to derive from the unevangelical theory
respecting a distinct priestly caste the inference which lay not very re-
mote, that the fountain of the divine word was to be approached only by
themselves; that the laity must depend for all their instruction in divine
things simply on the clergy, without being entitled to go to the original
source itself: but it was the altogether worldly-minded laity, who, as they
had taken advantage of the distinction between a spiritual and a secular
class, to set up for themselves a convenient Christianity, subservient
to their pleasures, so made use of the same pretext as a reason for
avoiding all intercourse with the divine word, and an excuse for their
indifference to higher interests, alleging that the study of the Bible
was a business properly belonging to ecclesiastics and monks. But
distinguished church-teachers, such as Chrysostom and Augustin, con-
tended strenuously against this way of thinking. The former denomi-
nates the excuses: “1 am a man of business; I am no monk; I have >
a wife and children to provide for,” 4 cold and exceedingly censurable
words ; and maintained, on the contrary, that just those persons who
were in the midst of the storms of the world and exposed to its many
temptations, stood most of all in need of those means of preservation
and safety which the holy scriptures furnish — more even than those
who led a life of silent retirement, far from all strife with the outward ©
world.® Frequently, both in private conversation and in his public dis-
courses, he exhorted his hearers not to rest satisfied with that which
they heard read from the scriptures in the church, but to read them
also with their families at home ;® for what food was for the body, such
the holy scriptures were for the soul,—the source whence it derived
substantial strength.’ To induce his hearers to study the scriptures,
he was often accustomed — when there was as yet no set lesson of the
a feminis quod viros doceant. Ep. 53 ad
Paulinum, § 5.
΄ ᾿ ¥ A iA
4*"Arnp εἴμι βιωτικός" οὐκ ἔστιν ἔμον. ypa-
φας ἀναγινώσκειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐκείνων τῶν ἀποταξα-
ἔνων.
ae H. III. de Lazaro, T. I.
1 Ad ipsum Dominum pulsa orando, pete,
insta. Sermo 105, ὁ 3.
2 Paulinus of Nola, ep. 321, T. I. p. 209.
Si quem sancta tenet meditanda in lege voluntas,
Hic poterit residens sacris intendere libris
8 Sola scriptura ars est, quam 510] om-
nes passim vindicant, hance garrula anus,
hance delirus senex, hane sophista verbosus,
hanc universi presumunt, lacerant, docent,
antequam discant. Alii adducto supercilio
grandia verba trutinantes, inter mulierculas
de sacris literis philosophantur, alii discunt
VOL. II. ¥
6 Kai ἐπὶ οἰκίας σπουδαζώμεν τῇ ἀναγνώσει
τῶν ϑείων προσέχειν γραφῶν. Hom. 29, in
Genes. ὁ 2. , ty εἶ.
7"Onép ἡ σωματικὴ τρόφη πρὸς τὴν σῦστα-
σιν τῆς ἡμετέρας ἴσχυος, τούτο ἡ ἀνάγνωσις
τῇ ψυχῇ γινέται. 1,. ο. T. LV. ἢ, 281.
282 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
sacred word prescribed for every Sunday — to give out for sometime
beforehand the text which he designed to make a subject of discourse
on some particular occasion, and to exhort them, in order that they might
be better prepared for his remarks, in the meantime to reflect upon it
themselves. In like manner, Augustin says: ‘‘ Do not allow your-
selves to be so immersed in present, earthly things, as to be obliged to
say, I have no time to read or to hear God’s word.” Among the charac-
ters of the zealous Christian, whom he describes under the figure of the
ant, as one that treasures up from the divine word that which he may
have occasion to use in the time of need, he places the following: ‘ He
goes to church and listens to God’s word; he returns home, finds a
Bible there, and opens and reads it.”? Often does Chrysostom trace
the corruptions of the church as well in doctrine as in life, — the spread
of error and of vice, —to the prevailing ignorance of the scriptures.*
Two hindrances to the general reading of the Bible might then for
the first time unquestionably have been removed, had Christianity been
directed also to multiply and diffuse the means of general mental culti-
vation, and by associations formed in the spirit of love, to supply what
individuals could not obtain for themselves. These two hindrances
were, first, the fact that but few knew how to read, and second, the high
price of manuscripts.®
In respect to this second hindrance, of poverty, which forbade the
purchase of a Bible, Chrysostom reckoned it among those pretexts
which would certainly give way to real earnestness and zeal about
Christianity. ‘‘ As many of the poorer class,” said he, ‘‘ are constantly
making this excuse, that they have no Bibles, I would like to ask
them, can poverty, however great it may be, hinder a man when he
does not possess, complete, all the tools of his trade? What, then! is it
not singular that in this case he never thinks of laying the blame to his
poverty, but does his best that it may not hinder him; while, on the
other hand, in a case where he is to be so great a gainer, he complains
of his poverty ?”’6
As to those who were prevented from studying the scriptures them-
selves, the reading of the scriptures in the church, as Chrysostom ex-
plains in the passage last referred to, and in other places, was to serve
as a remedy for this want; for on these occasions not single passages
merely, but entire sections and whole books of the Bible, were read in
1 This he describes as his method in the ἐμποδίζει. Cateches. V. § 7. Augustin
discourse on Lazarus, referred to in the pre-
ceding note. T. I. f. 737.
‘ ΖΦ Non mihi vacat legere.
§ 10.
8 Audire sermonem, audire lectionem, in-
venire librum, aperire et legere. In Psalm.
66, § 3.
4 E. g. Prom. in epist. ad Rom. T. IX.
In Psalm. 66,
. 426.
5 Cyrill of Jerusalem adduces as a rea-
son why all could not read the Bible, “ig-
norance and the pressure of business,” οὐ
πάντες δύνανται τὰς γράφας ἀναγινώσκειν,
ἀλλὰ τοὺς μὲν ἰδιωτεία, τούς δὲ ἀσχολία τις
makes a distinction between the book of
creation and the book of the sacred writings :
In istis codicibus non ea legunt, nisi qui
litteras noverunt, in toto mundo legat et
idiota. In Psalm. 45, § 7. Augustin was
in want of a Bible, when the desire first
arose in his mind at Milan to become more
accurately acquainted with the divine doc-
trines: Ubi ipsos codices querimus ? Unde
aut quando comparamus? Confess. 1. VI.
§18. A difficulty which, to be sure, he could
easily surmount, when he was in right ear
nest about the matter.
9 Hom. XI. in Johan. § 1.
ITS RELATION TO ART. CHURCH EDIFICES. 283
connection. Hence many who could not read had still been able, by a
constant attendance at church, and by carefully listening to the portions
read in each year, to treasure up in their memories a familiar knowledge
of the sacred scriptures.}
2. Relation of Public Worship to Art. Church Buildings ; their
Embellishments ; Images.
We remarked in the preceding period, that the primitive Christian
way of thinking was averse to the employment of art, as being a heathen
practice. ‘This stern opposition to art would naturally cease as the op-
position to the now constantly declining Paganism relaxed. Christian-
ity might, and indeed by its very nature should, appropriate to its own
use, purify, ennoble, and sanctify even art: but the danger now threat-
ened, that the artistic element would become too predominant for the
healthful development of religious morals; that external splendor and
ornament would supplant the simple devotion of the heart; that sense
and the imayination would be called into exercise more than the mind
and the affections. Yet it is evident, nevertheless, that the primitive
evangelical temper, directed to the worship of God in spirit and in truth,
maintained the struggle with this new tendency which threatened to
turn devotion away from the inner essence of religion.
As, in the preceding period, the whole outward form of the church
and of church life betokened a community propagating itself in opposi-
tion to the dominant power, a community persecuted and oppressed ; so,
in the present, the altered situation of this community manifested itself
in its whole external appearance. ‘The churches destroyed under the
Dioclesian persecution were again rebuilt in greater magnificence ; the
‘Christian emperors emulated each other in erecting splendid structures,
and in embellishing and enriching them in every way. Wealthy and
noble laymen followed their example; and the delusive notion insinu-
ated itself, that, in so doing, men performed a work of peculiar merit
and of the highest service to religion. Many believed that by thus ~
contributing to adorn the churches, by presenting them with costly ves-
sels, mounted with gold, silver, and precious stones, they could atone for
their sins. Hence Chrysostom felt himself constrained to say: “ God
forbid that we should believe it is enough for our salvation, if we rob
widows and orphans, and present to the altar a golden chalice, set with
precious stones! Wouldst thou honor the offering of Christ? Then
present him thy own soul as an offering, for which he himself has offered
up his life. Let this become a golden one; for the church is not a
storehouse of gold and silver manufactures, but it is the community of
angels ; hence we ask for souls; for even this (donation made to the
church) God accepts only for the sake of souls.? The pious and en-
1 As was done by Parthenius, after-
wards bishop in Lampsacus, in whose youth,
it is related, literarum imperitus, sanctarum
autem scripturarum vel maxime valens
memoria. See his life, which seems to be
at least not without a genuine foundation.
Acta Sanctorum mens. Febr. T. II. f. 38.
2 Chrysost. in Matth. h. 50, § 3. So also
he says in his 80th homily on Matthew, § 2:
“Instead of presenting to the church splen-
did vessels, and expending large sums in
ornamenting the walls and the grounds of
the church, it would be better to provide
first for the support of the poor.” There
284 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. FORM OF CHURCHES.
lightened abbot, Isidorus of Pelusium, in a beautifully written letter,
complains of his bishop, that he superfluously decorated, with costly
marbles, the outward structure of the church; whilst he persecuted the
pious, and thus destroyed the true church consisting of the community
of believers. He admonishes him to be careful, and distinguish between
the church building and the church itself; the latter bemg composed
of pure souls, the former of wood and stone.1 In the time of the apos-.
tles, said he, church buildings did not as yet exist; but the church
consisting of the communities was rich in the gifts of the Spirit. Now,
the church structures were resplendent with marbles; but the church
itself was barren of those gifts of the Spirit.”
Magnificent public buildings, already erected, and pagan temples,
were also occasionally presented as gifts to the churches, and were conse-
erated and altered for the purposes of Christian worship. Yet it might
well be that, in the provincial towns, the more simple places of assem-
bly, which bore the impress of Christian antiquity, continued for a long
time to form a striking contrast with the splendid church edifices in
the large cities. Zeno, bishop of Verona, (who lived after the middle
of the fourth century,) labors to show, in one of his discourses, that
the distinguishing mark of Christianity, as compared with Judaism and
Paganism, could not consist in the beauty of its outward buildings, in
which it was excelled by both those religions ; but what constituted
the peculiarity of Christianity, what it had in preference to both these
religions, was the spiritual being of the church, the community of be-
lievers, God’s true temple. The living God would have living temples.
In this discourse he remarks, that no Christian churches were to be
found, or at least but very few, which could be compared with the
ruins of the neglected heathen temples. Doubtless this language is not
to be taken as literally true. We must make allowance for what should
be attributed to rhetorical exaggeration, or explained as too general a
conclusion from individual examples.
The Christian churches were planned after the pattern of the temple
at Jerusalem; and this threefold division was closely connected with
the whole peculiar form of worship, as it had sprung out of the
idea of a Christian priesthood, corresponding to the Jewish, and of a
New Testament sacrificial service corresponding to that of the Old Tes-
tament. ‘The three parts were, first, the front court, where all the
unbaptized, Pagans, Jews, and Catechumens, could stand and hear the
sermon and the reading of the scriptures ; the place assigned to all the
uninitiated : next, the proper temple, the place assigned to the com-
munity of laymen, believers and baptized persons : ὅ finally, the sanctu-
were, on the other hand, to be sure, bishops
like Theophilus of Alexandria, (who hence
bore the surname of λιϑομάνης,) that were
very willing to deprive the poor of what
was their due, and expend it on the erection
of splendid buildings.
1 “Ori ἀλλὸ ἔστιν ἐκκλησία καὶ ἀλλὸ ἐκκλη-
σιαστήριον, ἡ μὲν γὰρ ἔξ ἀμώμων ψυχῶν, τὸ
δ' ἀπὸ λίϑων καὶ ξύλων οἰκοδομεῖται.
2 See lib. IL. ep. 246.
3 Lib. I. Tract. XIV. Quod ant nullum
aut perrarum est per .omnem ecclesiam
Dei orationis loci membrum, quod possit
quavis-ruina in se mergentibus idololatrise
zedibus nunc usque aliquatenus comparari.
4 Ilpovaoc, νάρϑηξ, ferula, so called from
its oblong form.
5 The νάος, the ἕερον in the more restrict-
ed sense of the term; called from its shape
ἡ ναῦς or navis ecclesix, (the naye,) where
CONSECRATION OF CHURCHES. 285
ary,'—the place appropriated to the offering of the New Testament
sacrifices, and to the priests who presented them, and therefore separat-
ed by a veil? and railing? from the other parts of the church. Here
stood the altar: here stood the ϑρόνος, the chair (cathedra) of the bishop ;
and in a semicircle around it were seats for the clergy. The clergy
alone had the privilege of receiving the holy supper within the limits
which separated the altar from the other parts of the church.*
The consecration of new churches was celebrated with great solem-
nity. It was a popular festival, which such bishops as Theodoret court-
eously invited even Pagans to attend; and the day of the year in
which this consecration had been made, was likewise solemnized. The un-
evangelical notion which, like so many other errors of church life, grew
out of the confusion of outward things with spiritual, was already be-
coming fixed, that by this consecration the churches acquired a pecu-
liar sanctity of their own ; although, as may be gathered from what has
already been said, an evangelical tendency of spirit which placed the
essence of the church rather in the communion of hearts, and derived
all true consecration and holiness solely from the direction of the spirit,
opposed itself to this error.® Chrysostom represents the benefit of
prayer in the church to consist, not in the holiness of the place, but in
the elevation of the feelings by Christian communion, by the bond of
love ;® although the very men who, on the one hand, under the impulse
of their purely Christian consciousness, uttered so many noble thoughts
in opposition to the sensuous and Judaizing tendency of the spirit of
those times, were nevertheless urged on by that spirit, unconsciously, to
warrant and confirm many a practice which was at war with that purely
Christian consciousness. Thus Chrysostom, for example, who, as is evi-
dent from the proofs already given, understood so well how to distin-
guish and hold apart the New Testament point of view from that of the
Old, yet, for the purpose of showing the superiority of the church to the
temple of the Old Testament, mentioned, among other things, the higher
virtue of the sacred lamp in the church, compared to that in the temple;
since, by the oil of the former, miraculous cures had been wrought by
limits of the sanctuary. Ambrose is re-
also was the chancel, from which the holy
ported to have been the first to make a
scriptures were read, and occasionally the
sermon was delivered, (άμβων, pulpitum,
suggestus.) Usage was not always alike in
this respect. Sometimes the sermon was
preached from the steps of the altar, some-
times from the tribune, βῆμα, or exedra of
the bishop.
1 Τὰ ἅγια τῶν ἁγίων, τὰ ἄδυτα, sanctuari-
um, βῆμα metonymice.
2 Αμφιϑύρα.
3 Kiyxdudec, eancelli.
# As in this distinction of the clergy is
exhibited the false notion of the priesthood,
so the Byzantine spirit, which tended to drag
into the church even the distinctions of
worldly rank, is betrayed in the circum-
stance that an exception was made in this
case with regard to the emperors, who were
also permitted to take their place within the
change in this respect in favor of the empe-
ror Theodosius: he assigned the latter a
place at the head of the church, immediate-
ly in front of the limits. (πρὸ τῶν δρυφάκτων.)
Sozom. hist. eccles. VII. 25.
5 The term “church,” says Chrysostom,
is a designation of fellowship, — ἐκκλησία
συστήματος καὶ συνόδου ἔστιν ὄνομα. In
Psalm. 149. T. V. f. 498. The church is
not wall and roof, but faith and life —7 ἐκ-
KAnoia ob τοίχος καὶ ὄροφος, ἀλλὰ πίστις Kal
βίος. Sermo in Eutrop. T. III. f. 386. i
6 ᾿Ενταῦϑα ἔστι τὶ πλέον, οἷον ἡ ὁμονοία,
καὶ ἡ συμφωνία, καὶ τῆς ἀγάπης ὁ σύνδεσωος.
It is true, he adds, on the false principle of
the priesthood, by which he too was fettered :
καὶ ai τῶν ἱερέων εὔχαι. De incomprehensi-
bili, T. I. f. 469, § 6.
280 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. SIGN OF THE CROSS.
those wno used it in the exercise of true faith! It was charged as a
high misdemeanor on Athanasius, that on the Easter festival he had as-
sembled the community, whom the other churches had not room enough
to accommodate, in a large edifice recently founded by the emperor Con-
stantine, before it had been consecrated according to the usual form.
Prayer and worship, it was alleged, ought never to be offered on any
unconsecrated spot. .Athanasius met his accusers with the words of
our Lord, that he who would pray should shut himself in his chamber :
no place therefore was, in itself considered, too profane for prayer.?
As it regards the decoration of churches with representations of re-
ligious objects, itis necessary first to distinguish here, from other images,
the symbol of the cross, the sign of the victory of Christ over the kg-
dom of evil, the token of redemption. From the actions of daily life,
in which this sign was everywhere customarily employed, and which
were thus to be consecrated and sanctified, the sign probably passed
over, at an early period, to the places where the Christian communities
assembled for worship,® although other symbols were still kept away
from them as savoring of Paganism. A true and genuine Christian
feeling lay at the basis of the practice, when this symbol was employed
not only in the consecration of all ecclesiastical transactions, as in bap-
tism, clerical ordination, the ordinance of the supper, the religious cele-
bration of marriage, but also in other transactions of life, whether
of a more sorrowful or joyful kind; the feeling, that the Christian’s
whole life, in sorrow and in joy, should be passed with one constant
reference to the redemption, and sanctified thereby. But with most,
this resort to the sign of the cross had become a mere mechanical act,
in performing which they either were not conscious themselves of the
ideas thus symbolized, or else transferred to the outward sign what
should have been ascribed to faith and to the temper of the heart alone,
and thus fell into a superstitious veneration of the symbol itself. The
cross, hitherto simple and destitute of all ornaments, was now gorgeously
decorated, as the altered condition of the church was thought to re-
quire, with gold, pearls, and precious stones. The universal use of this
symbol is thus described by Chrysostom: ‘* The sign of universal exe-
cration, the sign of extremest punishment, has now become the object of
1 Hom. 32, Matth. § 6. Ἰσάσιν ὅσοι μετὰ
πιστέως Kal εὐκαιρῶς ἐλαίῳ χρισάμενοι νοσῆ-
ματα ἔλυσαν.
stitious multitude, the whole place was con-
secrated. and could no longer be used for
any ordinary purpose of social life. Very
2 Athenas. apologia ad Constantium, ὁ 17.
To what profanation of holy things that su-
_ perstitious reverence for the external signs
of the holy was capable of leading, this ex-
ample may show. Two bishops in Lybia,
about the year 420, were engaged in a quar-
rel about the possession of a place, which
may have been of some importance as a
fortified place of refuge from the incursions
of the barbarians. To secure this spot for
his church, one of them resorted to the fol-
lowing stratagem. He pressed his way in
by force, caused an altar to be brought, and
consecrated upon it the sacrament of the
supper. Now in the opinion of the super-
justly was it remarked by the bishop Syne-
sius, complaining of this transaction to
Theophilus, patriarch of Constantinople,
that in this way the holiest ordinances could
be abused for the accomplishment of the
vilest purposes. He said it was not the
manner of Christianity, to exhibit the di-
vine as.a thing which could be charmed with
magical necessity by certain formulas of
consecration; but as something that had
its dwelling in the pure snd godlike temper
of mind: “Ὥστε παρεῖναι ταῖς ἀπύώϑεσι καὶ
ταῖς οἰκείαις τῷ Geer διαϑέσεσιν. Synes. ep.
67 δὰ Theophilum.
3 See vol. I. sect. 2, p 509
OTHER SYMBOLS. 287
universal longing and love. We sce it everywhere triumphant: we
find it in houses, on the roofs and the walls ; in cities and villages ; on
the market place, the great roads and in deserts ; on mountains and
in valleys ;! on the sea, on ships; on books and on weapons; on
wearing apparel, in the marriage chamber, at banquets, on vessels of
gold and of silver, in pearls, in pictures on the walls, on beds; on the
bodies of brute animals that are diseased ;? on the bodies of those pos-
sessed by evil spirits ;? in the dances of those gomg to pleasure, and
in the associations of those that mortify their bodies.””* Men lke Augus-
tin denounced the mere mechanical practice of making the sign of the
cross, and, on the other hand, gave prominence to that which it was de-
signed to indicate, the inward bent of the affections, to that which
should have a living existence in the temper of the heart. The sign of
the cross was to remind believers of the nature of the Christian calling,
of their destination to suffer for the cause of God, and through sufferings
to follow Christ to glory. God wanted not such as described this sign
on their foreheads, but such as practised what this sign denoted in their
daily lives, such as bore the imitation of Christ’s humility in their
hearts.°
It was a somewhat different case, where representations of the human
form were employed with religious allusions. That tendency of the
Christian spirit, of which we spoke in the preceding period, still ex-
pressed, at the beginning, its opposition to such representations. But
as Christianity gradually pressed its way into popular and domestic life,
the cases must continually become more frequent, where, in place of |
the objects of pagan worship, those would be substituted which were
dear to the faith and feelings of Christians. Besides this, a change
had now taken place in the views and in the taste of the Christians.
Those who, at an earlier period, had shrunk from the outward splendor
of religion as savoring of Paganism, as opposed to the idea so often
mentioned of Christ’s appearance in the form of a servant, were, by the
altered condition of the church, led rather to wish to see Christianity
emblazoned by external pomp ; and the conversion of many was of such
a kind, that im truth their tendency to materialism in religion merely
took another shape and turn. They would fain have, in Christianity
too, a religion presented under images of sense. This tendency, the
1 Also on windows, —54 in Matth. ὁ 4.
᾿Επὶ τῶν ϑυρίδων ; pavements too were laid
with signs of the cross; a practice for-
bidden by the second council of Trulla, 691,
c. 73.
2 See above, the account of the rhetori-
cian Severus.
8 It being the intention to expel evil spirits
by the power of the cross.
4. See the homily on Christ’s divinity, § 9,
T. I. f. 571. We frequently find it men-
tioned also, that Christians wore the sign of
the cross on their foreheads, effingere erucem
in fronte, ἐκτυποῦν ἐν τῷ μετώπῳ, portare
crucem in fronte;— Πα in several places,
we are to understand by it, or at least may
without hazard understand by it, that they
frequently made the sign of the cross with
the finger on their foreheads. But there are
also several places where this explanation
does not suffice, and which perhaps can be
understood in no other sense, than that
Christians actually imprinted in some way
or other, or hung the sign of the cross on
their foreheads. Augustin. in Psalm. 73,
§ 6. Jam in frontibus regum pretiosius est
siznum crucis, quam gemma diadematis.
In Ps. 39, Enarrat. II. § 13, compared with
what Chrysostom says, Exposit. in Ps. 109,
p: 6; ΤΟΥ. f. 259. Πάντες ἐπι τοῦ μετώπου
τὸν σταυρὺν περιφέρομεν, ob μὲν ἰδιώται μό-
νον, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτοι οἱ τὰ διαδήματα περικεί-
μενοι ὑπὲρ τὰ διαδήματα αὗτον ϑαστάζουσι.
5 Augustin. p. 802, § 3, p. 32, § 18
288 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
imperial family of the Constantines certainly had to a remarkable de-
gree, and in many things they gave the tone to others. As a substitute
for the remains of old pagan art, Constantine lavished on the public monu-
ments with which he embellished the new imperial city, the representations
of religious objects taken from the circle of the Old and New Testaments ;
as, for example, Daniel in the lion’s den, Christ under the image of the
Good Shepherd.!_ The sister of this emperor, Constantia, the widow of
Licinius, petitioned’ the bishop Eusebius of Czesarea for a figure of
Christ.
It was not the church-teachers, then, nor the leaders and heads of
the communities, but the great mass of the Christians, with whom we
reckon also the lofty ones of the earth, that introduced the use of re-
ligious images. At Rome, the names of the apostles Peter and Paul
being often coupled together as martyrs, and the memory of both cele-
brated on the same day, it came about, that the figure of Christ, at-
tended by these two apostles, was painted on the walls ; a fact by which
many of the heathen were misled to suppose that Paul had been chosen
among the apostles by Christ during his earthly lifetime.2 Images of
martyrs, venerated monks,’ and bishops, were dispersed far and wide.
The Antiochians had the likeness of their deceased bishop Meletius en-
graven on their signets, and painted on cups, goblets, and on the walls
of their chambers.*' The figure of Abraham offering up Isaac was a
favorite subject of Christian art.> Among the rich and noble men and
women in the large cities of the Byzantine empire, Christianity was af
fected even in the mode of dress; and, as often happens, it was supposed
the corrupt inclinations which remained essentially the same, were
sanctified by the seemly show of a Christian outside. When it was the
fashion for men and women of rank to wear garments on which
the whole representation of a chase was embroidered in gold and silver
threads, they who made pretensions to piety, on the other hand, chose
the representation of the marriage feast at Cana; of the man sick of
the palsy, who took up his bed and walked; of the blind man re-
stored to sight; of the woman with the issue of blood; of the Magda-
lene who embraced the feet of Jesus; of the resurrection of Lazarus.
Bedizened with such figures, they supposed —as Asterius, bishop of
Amasia, in Pontus, in the last half of the fourth century, asserts — that
their dress must be well approved in the sight of God.® This excellent
church-teacher advises them rather to dispose of such garments for as
much as they would bring, and use the avails to honor the living im-
ages of God: instead of carrying about the sick of the palsy on their
_ garments, rather to look up the actually sick and relieve them ; instead
of wearing on their bodies a kneeling penitent in embroidery, rather to
mourn over their own sins with a penitent spirit.”
1 Buseb. de v.'C. III. 49. 5 See Gregor. Nyss. orat. in Abrah. T.
2 Christus simul cum Petro et Paulo in III. opp. Paris. 1638, f. 476. Comp. Augus-
pictis parietibus. Augustin. de consensu tin. c. Faustum. 1. 22, ο. 73, tot locis pictum.
Evangelistarum, 1. I. § 16. 6 Asterius de divite et Lazaro: Tatra
8 As for example, Simeon the Stylite. ποιοῦντες εὐσέβειν νομίζουσιν, καὶ ἱματία
See above. κεχαρισμένα τῷ ϑεῷ ἀμφιεννῦσϑαι
4 Chrysostom. Homil. in Meletium, T. II. 7 See above.
519.
THE USE OF IMAGES. 289
At the same time, we should take pains to distinguish the different
points of view in which images were regarded by individual church-
teachers. If they opposed the use of images in the church, because
they feared it would degenerate into an idolatrous veneration ; if they
_ strove to elevate the religion of the senses to that of the spirit; if they
especially rejected the images of Christ on the score of some particular
principle of doctrine, yet we are not warranted for these reasons to
conclude that they condemned, in general, all representations of reli-
gious objects.
Against images of Christ in particular, there might be the more decid-
ed opposition, inasmuch as the whole tradition of the church witnessed
that no genuine likeness of Christ existed : in fact, the very reason why
men resorted so much to symbolical and parabolical representations, in
reference to the Saviour and his work, was, that they were conscious of
possessing no genuine image of his person.
The strongest to declare himself against images, was Eusebius of
Ceesarea, in his letter in reply to Constantia’s request for an image of
Christ. On the one hand, we observe, still manifesting itself in Eusebi-
us, that aversion to images which was closely connected with the more
ancient Christian view of Christ’s appearance, and with that sterner op-
position to every thing bordermg on Paganism ; not less, too, the by no
means ungrounded anxiety, lest the devotion of the princess, taking tod
sensuous a direction, might be turned wholly aside from the essence of
Christianity : on the other hand, along with these common traits of Christ-
ianity, we see a great deal besides, derived from the peculiar notions in
Origen’s system of faith, which Eusebius was inclined to favor. ‘* What
do you understand, may I ask, by an image of Christ ?’’— says Euse-
bius. ‘ You can surely mean nothing else but a representation of the
earthly form of a servant, which, for man’s sake, he for a short time
assumed. Even when, iv this, his divme majesty beamed forth at the
transfiguration, his disciples were unable to bear the sight of such
glory ; but now the figure of Christ is become wholly deified and spirit-
ualized, —transfigured into a form analogous to his divine nature.}
Who, then, has power to draw the image of such a glory, exalted above
every earthly form? Who, to represent in lifeless colors the splendor
which radiates from such transcendent majesty ?? Or could you be
satisfied with such an image as the Pagans made of their gods and
heroes, which bore no resemblance to the thing represented? But if
you are not seeking for an image of the transfigured godlike form ;
but for one of the earthly, mortal body, so as it was constituted before
this change, you must have forgotten those passages in the Old Testa
ment, which forbid us to make any image of that which is in the heav-
ens above or on the earth beneath. Where have you ever seen any
such in the church, or heard of their being there from others? Have
1 Πῶς δὲ τῆς οὕτω ϑαυμαστῆς Kal ἀλήπτου φης τὸ εἴδος εἰς τὴν δεσπότου καὶ ϑεοῦ δύξαν
μόρφης, εἴγε χρὴ μόρφην ἔτι καλεῖν τὴν ἔνϑε- μετεσκευάσϑη. ΕΣ
ον καὶ νοεράν οὐσίαν, εἴκονα τίς ζωγραφῆ- 2 Τίς δ' οὖν τῆς τοσαυτῆς ἀξίας τε καὶ
σειεν ; We recognize the Origenist. Comp. δόξης τὰς ἀποστιλβούσας καὶ ἀπαστραπτοῦσας
vol. I. sect. 3, p. 1009. Τῆς τοῦ δούλου μόρ- μαρμαρυγάς οἷος τὲ ἀν ein καταχαράξαι νεκροῖς
καὶ ἀψύχοις χρώμασι καὶ σκιογραφίαις.
VOL. IL. 25
290 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
not such things (images, therefore, of religious objects) been banished
far from the churches over the world?”?! He said he once saw in a woman’s
possession, two figures of men in the garb of philosophers, which she
pretended were Christ and Paul. But he made her give them up, lest
some scandal might result from them either to herself or to others ; lest
it might seem that the Christians, like idolaters, carried about their
God in an image.?. Paul, he observed, exhorts all Christians to cleave
no longer to the things of sense,’ saying: ‘‘ Though we have known
Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him thus no longer.”’
The godless sect of the Simonians had an image of Simon Magus ; and
he himself had seen among the Manicheans a figure of Mani. ‘ But
we,” he concludes, “who confess that our Lord is God, we must let the
whole longing of our hearts be directed to the intuition of him in his
divine character; we must therefore cleanse our hearts with all earnest-
ness, since none but the pure in heart can see God. Still, should any
one be anxious to see an image of the Saviour, instead of beholding him
face to face, what better could he have, than that which he himself has
drawn in the sacred writings?” * Thus, a truer image of Christ could
be found in the exhibition of his life, as recorded in the gospel history,
than in the representation of his bodily form. The manner in which
Kusebius speaks, in his church history, concerning the busts of Christ,
which it was said the woman cured of the issue of blood at Cvesarea
Philippi had made, as a memorial of her gratitude to Christ ; and the
manner in which he there speaks of other ancient images of Christ and
of Paul, perfectly accord with the views expressed by him in the pres-
ent letter: for in this latter passage also, he considers it as a pagan
way of expressing reverence to the benefactors of mankind.?
In respect to Asterius, his polemical attacks were directed, as may
be gathered from the passages already cited, not so much against the
use of religious images generally, as against that pomp and display,
which, to the injury ‘of active Christian “charity, followed in its train.
Yet even he expressed his disapprobation on the same grounds with Hu-
sebius, particularly of images to represent Christ; and maintained that
men ought not to renew and multiply the servant-form whica Christ
once, during the days of his flesh, voluntarily assumed for the salvation
of mankind.“ Bear,’’ said he, “ the Logos, who is a spirit, in a spiritual
manner, within your souls.” ® In these views of Kusebius and Asterius,
there was manifestly, however, something of a one-sided character.
Οὐχὶ δὲ καϑ᾽ ὁλῆς τῆς οἰκουμένης ἐξωρίοσ-
ται καὶ πόῤῥω τῶν ἐκκλησίων πεφυγαδεύται
τοιαύτα;
2 Tod μὴ δοκῶμεν δίκην εἰδωλολατρούντων
τὸν ϑέον ἡμῶν ἐν εἴκονι περιφέρειν.
8 Παύλου τὲ ἀκούω ἡμᾶς παιδεύοντος, μῆ:
κετι τοῖς σαρκίκοις προσανέχειν.
4 A fragment of this letter is preserved
among the transactions of the council of
Iconoclasts at Constantinople, A.D. 754;
and from these it has been adopted into the
sixth action of the seventh cecumenical
council, or of the second council of Nice,
A.D. 787. More of it has been published
by Boivin in the remarks on the second vol-
ume of Nicephorus Gregoras, f. 795.
ὃ "Qe εἰκὸς τῶν παλαίων ἀπαραφυλάκτως
οἵα σωτῆρας ἐϑνικῇ συνηϑείᾳ παρ᾽ ἑαυτοῖς
τούτον τιμᾷν εἰωϑότων͵ τὸν τρόπον. Tuseb.
VIL. c. 18.
δ “Apket γὰρ αὑτῷ ἣ μία τῆς ἐνσωματωσέως
ταπεινοφροσύνη, ἣν αὐϑαιρετῶς δι’ ἡμᾶς κα-
τεδέξατο. ᾿Επὶ δὲ τῆς ψυχῆς σου βαστάζων
νοητῶς τὸν ἀσώματον λόγον περίφερε. Re-
specting the connection of these views with
the peculiar form of his system of faith,
see below, in the fourth section
THE USE OF IMAGES. 291
They betray, in part, the restricted notions, peculiar to the earlier Christ-
ian period, of Christ’s servant-form ; and in part they show a certain
Neo-Platonic contempt of the body. The earthly human nature of
Christ was not recognized here in the profound meaning which it must
and should have for the Christian feelings : for to these, everything that
᾿ pertains to the purely human nature, even now, in its present earthly
form, has been sanctified and ennobled by Christ ; and on this side, the
universal Christian feeling would naturally plead in favor of the images of
Christ against their opponents: although, on the other side, the truly
evangelical direction of these latter, which points away from the sensi-
ble to the spiritual Christ, communicating himself in spiritual fellow-
ship, is not to be mistaken. With this tendency, Asterius could never-
theless approve of the pictures of suffering martyrs, and speak with
lively interest of the impression which a picture of this sort had made
on himself.1
In the same sense in which Asterius spoke against those who were in the
habit of displaying on their dress the representation of sacred stories as a
mark of piety, in this same sense another church-teacher, near the close
of the fourth century, Amphilochius, bishop of Iconium in Phrygia, re-
buked those whose piety consisted in multiplying dead images of the
saints, instead of copying their example in the practice of Christian vir-
tues.2 Thus, too, Chrysostom agrees with Eusebius in disclaiming all
knowledge of a sensuous image of Christ, but ever speaking of Christ’s
moral image alone in the copying of his holy walk, or pomting away to
the intuition of Christ glorified in the eternal life. In respect to the
former, he remarks: ‘‘ Teach the soul to form a mouth which is like the
mouth of Christ; for she can form such a one if she will. And how is
this to be done? By what colors? By what materials? By no colors,
no materials; but only by virtue, by meekness, and humility. How
many are there amongst us who wish to see his form? Behold, we can
not only see him, but also be like him, if we are really in earnest.’
And with regard to the latter he says, after having spoken of the
majesty of Christ’s appearance: “‘ Perhaps you are now seized with
the desire of beholding that image. But if we will, we may see a
far better one.”’* The same spirit is manifest also in Augustin, as
when he says: “ Let us hear the gospel with such a mind, as if we saw
the Lord present before us; and let us not say to ourselves, ‘ Blessed
are they who could see him;’ since many among those who saw him
have perished ; but many among us who have not seen him, believe on
him. The Lord is above; but here, too, in the very midst of us, is the
Lord of truth.’
In the course of the fourth century, men began, by degrees, to deco-
rate the churches also with images — a practice, however, which did not
become general until near the close of this century. Men of wealth
1 See his discourse on the martyrdom of fragment in the VI. act. of the second Ni-
Euphemia. cene council.
2 Οὐ γὰρ τοῖς πίναξι τὰ σάρκικα. προσώπα - ® In Matth. H. 78, vel 79, ὁ 4.
τῶν ἁγίων διὰ χρωμάτων ἐπιμελὲς ἡμῖν ἐντυ- 41ῃ Matth. H. 27, vel 28, § 2.
ποῦν, ὁτὶ οὐ χρῇζομεν τουτῶν, ἀλλὰ THY πολι- 5 In Evang. Joh. Tract. 80, § 4.
τείαν αὐτῶν δι’ ἀρέτης ἐκμιμεῖσϑαι. See this 6 In the sermons delivered by Chrysos
292 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
and rank who founded churches, wished them to be set out with all the
embellishments of art, and so, too, with the rich ornament of pictures ;
and, in particular, the churches dedicated to the memory of martyrs
were adorned with the representations of their sufferings, and with pic-
tures from the historical parts of the Old and New Testaments. When,
on the festivals of the martyrs, great multitudes of the people flocked
to these churches, these paintings were to serve the purpose of enter-
taining, touching, edifying, and instructing the rude and ignorant, who
could not be instructed and edified by means of books.! Still, many
influential voices were heard objecting to the superfluity of picture orna-
ments ; and others, against the use of them at all in the churches. A
respectable man at Constantinople, who wished to erect a church in mem-
ory of the martyrs, conceived the plan of ornamenting it with various pic-
tures from nature, which perhaps were to have some symbolical mean-
ing, and also with many signs of the cross. But the pious monk Nilus,
a worthy disciple of Chrysostom, to whom he communicated his design,
advised him to be sparing of picture ornaments: it was a childish thing,
said he, to dissipate the eyes and attention of the faithful by such ob-
jects.? Instead of this, he should erect in the sanctuary, and in each
compartment of the nave of the church, a single cross, and decorate
the church with paintings of stories from the Old and New Testaments ;
so that those who could not read the sacred scriptures themselves might
be reminded, by looking at the paintings, of those examples of piety,
and thus excited to imitate them. He ought to abstain from all super-
fluities, and seek rather, by fervent prayer, by steadfast faith, by invin-
cible hope in God, by alms, humility, study of the holy scriptures, com-
passion towards his fellow-nen, kindness to servants, and observance of
all the commandments of the Lord, to adorn and to preserve himself
and all his family.2 When the aged bishop, Epiphanius of Salamis, or
Constantia, in the isle of Cyprus, in making a visit to Jerusalem, came
to a church in one of the neighboring villages, and there found on a
curtain a human image, whether it was of some representation of Christ or
of a saint, he immediately rent the cloth, expressing great indignation. It
was contrary, said he, to the authority of holy scripture, that the image
of a man should be hung up in a Christian church. The cloth would
be in better use to shroud the body of some poor man. ‘This arbitrary
proceeding having excited dissatisfaction, after his return he sent to the
parish priest of the church another curtain, to replace the one he had
tom at Constantinople, as well as at Anti- find an allusion here to images in the
och, there is not to be found — though he
΄ frequently alludes in his figures, metaphors,
and comparisons, to the manners and cus-
toms of his time —any reference to images
in the churches. Montfaucon, indeed, sup-
posed that he found such an allusion in the
H. X. Ephes. ὁ 2, but wrongly ; for, in this
place, Chrysostom is speaking, not of the
visible, but of the invisible church, — of the
pillars in this according to a spiritual sense ;
and in truth he there compares the invisible
church, not with a splendid church edifice,
in which case unquestionably we should
churches, but with the palace of a lord,
which is ornamented with columns and
statues.
1 See Paulinus of Nola, carmen IX. et X.
de S. Felicis natali.
2 Νηπιῶδες καὶ βρεφοπρέπες, τὸ τοῖς προ-
λεχϑείσιν περιπλανῆσαι τὸν ὀφϑώλμὸν τῶν
πίστων.
8. Nil. 1. IV. ep. 61.
4 Detestatus in ecclesia Christi, contra
auctoritatem seripturarum, hominis vendere
imaginem.
THE USE OF IMAGES. 298
torn down, and called upon the bishop John of Jerusalem to see to it
that for the future no such church-hangings, so contradictory to the
Christian religion, should be used.!_ We see in this the pious, indeed,
but impatient and narrow zeal which characterized this man generally.
Had he better understood the spirit of the Old-Testament command,
and been capable of duly distinguishing from each other the Old and
the New-Testament economies, he would not have been so greatly ex-
cited by what he saw. Still, however, it was the way of thinking of the
ancient church, which he followed out in this case; and at all events it
is to be remarked that it was not the principle, as it seems, on which he
proceeded here, but simply his arbitrary mode of proceeding, which ex-
cited opposition. But, without much question, this zeal of pious men is
justified, when we reflect how easily the prevailing spirit of piety, which
was directed on sensible and outward things, might betray the rude
multitude, who were to be gradually weaned from Paganism, to the su-
perstitious veneration of images; especially, as the excessive reverence
paid to saints would soon be transferred also to their pictures, and as
reports of the marvellous effects produced by the images which men
were accustomed to regard with peculiar veneration, as also by the
reliques of the saints, soon became widely spread.
Augustin, as early as the last times of the fourth century, was forced
to complain of the fact that many worshippers of images were to be
found among the rude Christian multitude ?— which worship of images
the Manicheans laid as a reproach against the whole church; but he
reckoned those image-worshippers as belonging to the great mass of
nominal Christians to whom the essence of Christianity was unknown.*
In the Western church this moderate tendency, between unconditional
opposition to images and image-worship, maintained itself till late into
1 Que contra religionem nostram. veni-
unt. See ep. 51, Hieronym. ejusd. opera
ed. Vallarsi, T. I. f. 252.
2 The council of the Iconoclasts at Con-
stantinople cited several writings of Epi-
phanius against images, in which he main-
tained that they ought to be used neither in
the church, nor at the cemeteries of the
martyrs, nor in private dwellings; but the
genuineness of these pieces is extremely
liable to suspicion. As well the enemies as
the friends of images indulged themselves
in fabricating writings under ancient ven-
erated names, in favor of their respective
principles. The friends of images appealed
to the fact that these writings, ascribed to
Epiphanius had remained hitherto unknown
to every body. And though this cannot be
considered a decisive proof against their
genuineness, yet these fragments bear on
their face many marks of having been fab-
ricated. The first cited words of Epipha-
nius (Concil. Nic. II. actio VI. Concil. ed.
Harduin. T. TV. f. 390) correspond in fact
too nearly with the ordinary modes of ex-
pression among the enemies of images in
the period. Next occurs a letter of Epi-
*
VOL. II. 25
phanius.to the emperor Theodosius, f. 391,
in which he writes to him, that he had often
called on his colleagues to abolish the ima-
ges, but they would not listen a moment to
his representations. It is hardly probable,
however, that at. this early period Epipha-
nius would have found any occasion for re-
sorting- to the authority of an emperor
against the images; and this very incident
with John, bishop of Jerusalem, renders it
improbable that Epiphanius, in his declara-
tions against the images, could have found
at that time so violent a resistance. It
should rather seem that the enemies of im-
ages in the eighth century fabricated, in this
case also, occurrences of an earlier period,
corresponding to what was done in their
own time. Probably that single incident in
the life of Epiphanius which has been re-
lated, was the occasion of such writings be-
ing forged in his name.
8 Novi multos esse picturarum adoratores,
De moribus ecclesise catholice. 1. I. § 75.
4 Professores nominis Christiani nee pro-
fessionis suze vim aut scientes aut exhi-
bentes.
904 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
the following period ; as we see, for example, in the case of the Roman
bishop, Gregory the Great, with whom we shall begin the next follow-
ing period.
But this moderate tendency did not so maintain itself in the Eastern
church. Here the progress was rapid from one step to another. The
spirit of the East, prone to excess in the expression of feelings ; its more
lively, warm imagination; its confounding of the sign with the thing
represented ; its predominant artistic sense ; all this brought it about
at an early period in the Oriental church, that not only the multitude
passed from the use of images to the worship of them, but even the
church-teachers suffered themselves to be carried along by the prevail-
ing spirit, and sought to defend their course on scientific grounds. In
the course of the sixth century, it was already a ruling custom in the
Greek church for persons to prostrate themselves before images as a
token of reverence to those represented by them (the προσκύνησις.) Al-
ready did the Jews lay hold of this prevailing worship of images to ac-
cuse the Christians of apostacy from the divine law, which forbade the
use of images in religion, and of idolatry. Leontius, bishop of Neapo-
lis, in the isle of Cyprus, who, near the end of the sixth century, wrote
an apology for Christianity and for the Christian church, against the accu-
sations of the Jews, was forced already to pay particular attention to
these charges. What remains to us of this writing! is of importance, as
giving us information respecting the character of the veneration paid to
images in this period, and respecting the light in which this practice
was regarded by those who expressed with consciousness the prevailing
spirit of the times.
He maintains, against the Jews, that the Mosaic law was not directed
unconditionally against all devotional use of images, but only against
the idolatrous use of them ; since, in fact, the tabernacle and the tem-
ple both had their images. But from the idolatrous adoration of
images, the Christians were assuredly far removed. They showed, in
the sign of the cross, their love and reverence towards Christ, who was
represented by it, in accordance with a principle grounded in human
nature. As affectionate children, whose father is on a journey, if they
do but see his coat, his chair, or his mantle in the house, embrace every
such article and kiss it with tears, so, too, we believers, out of our tran-
scendent love to Christ, reverence everything which he did but touch ;
and for this reason we represent the symbol of his passion in churches,
in houses and shops, in the market place, on the articles of clothing;
so that we may have it constantly before our eyes, and may be re-
minded of it, and not forget it, as the Jews have forgotten their God.
He argues that in the Old Testament the ceremony of prostration some-
times occurs as a mark of respect even to men, and therefore could not
by any means imply the notion of idolatry. He refers to the cures said
to have been wrought on energumens by means of images ;— and in-
deed, it may easily be conceived that the impression made on the imagi-
nation and feelings by the sight of such objects might, in the case of
1 The fragments in the fourth action of the second Nicene council. Harduin. Concil.
IV. f. 194.
THE USE OF IMAGES. 295
diseases of this sort, arising from the peculiar nervous system and dis-
position of the individual, produce extraordinary effects. In the same
manner may be explained also what he says about the sudden conver-
sions wrought by the sight of images, as evidence of the virtue residing
. in them; — that, in almost every part of the world, abandoned men,
murderers, robbers, profligates, idolaters, were every day, by the sight
of the cross, awakened to conviction, and not only so, but led to re-
nounce the world and practise every virtue. All which, though rheto-
rically over-wrought, yet cannot be pure fabrication, but was probably
drawn from some few individual examples in which rude minds, by the
sight of the cross or of other images, were suddenly overpowered, and
quit a life wholly abandoned to sin for penitence in Monachism. But
it may indeed be a question whether the crisis to which men were
brought by sudden impressions of this sort had not been prepared long
beforehand, and whether the effect produced was of a permanent char-
acter. ‘T'o that which really occurred, the ready imagination of the East
now added a great deal that never happened. ‘Thus arose the stories
about miraculous images, from which blood had been seen to trickle.
Such facts also Leontius adduces in defending the worship of images.
Summing all* together, he says: ‘The images are not our gods; but
they are the images of Christ and his saints, which exist and are vene-
rated in remembrance and in honor of these, and as ornaments of the
churches.’ We see here how closely the veneration paid to images was
connected with the whole Oriental mode of intuition; how this expres-
sion of reverence by no means amounted to so much, at the beginning, .
among the Orientals, as the same ceremony would have done among the
people of the West, whose colder temperament was,less inclined to any
violent expression of the feelings. So much the more dangerous, how-
ever, would this tendency of the Oriental spirit to sensualize every-
thing threaten to become to Christianity, if the prevailing spirit of Chris-
tianity had not opposed to it, as it did at the beginning, a sufficient _
counterpoise. Yet even in this century there are still to be found the
vestiges of an opposition, growing out of the purely Christian spirit,
against the spreading superstition. The respectable Monophysite
church-teacher, Xenayas, or Philoxenos, bishop of Hierapolis, in Syria, in
the early times of the sixth century, decidedly opposed the representa-
tions of angels in the human form, and the representation of the Holy
Ghost in the shape of a dove; doubtless led to it by the rude sensuous
notions which were attached to these symbols. He said men should not
think they honored Christ through the images of Christ; no worship
was pleasing to him but the worship in spirit and in truth. Such
images, with which a superstitious reverence had probably become con-
nected, he removed from the churches.®
1 Πολλάκις αἱμάτων ῥύσεις ἐξ εἰκόνων ye- John the Schismatic, Ἰωάννης ὁ διακρινόμε-
γόνασι. νος, in his church history, from which a
2 Πρὸς ἀναμνῆσιν καὶ τιμὴν καὶ εὐπρεπεί- fragment has been preserved in the fifth
ay εκκλησίων προκείμενα καὶ προσκυνούμενα. action of the second Nicene council. Har-
8 So relates the monophysite historian, duin. Concil. IV. f. 306.
296 : CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
We now proceed to consider the seasons for divine worship and the
festivals.
3. Seasons for holding Divine Worship and Festivals.
Although the habit of confounding the Old and New Testament
points of view had already, in various ways, as we have seen in the
earlier sections, struck deeply into the church life, yet the most dis-
tinguished church-teachers of this period continued still to express the
purely Christian idea of the relation of the festivals to the whole Christ-
ian life, which, as we remarked in the preceding period, had first grown
out of Christianity in its opposition to Judaism. Thus Jerome asserts,!
that, considered from the purely Christian point of view, all days are
alike: every day is for the Christian a Friday, to be consecrated by
the remembrance of Christ crucified; every day a Sunday, since on
every day he could solemnize in the communion the fellowship with
Christ though risen. But festivals and meetings for divine worship, at
stated seasons, were instituted for the good of those who were not yet
capable of rising to this position, who were not yet so minded or so dis-
ciplined as, every day of their life, before engaging in the business of
the world, to offer God the sacrifice of prayer. Chrysostom delivered
a discourse at Antioch, in which he showed that those who never attend-
ed church, except on the principal festivals, adopted the Jewish point
of view ; that, on the other hand, the Christian celebration of festivals
was not necessarily restricted to certain times, but embraced the whole
life grounded in faith ; and that this was so, he endeavored to demon-
strate from the nature and design of the principal Christian festivals.
‘“‘ Our first feast,” said he, ‘is the feast of Christ’s appearance, (the
Epiphany, τὰ ἐπιφάνια.)ὺ What, then, is the object of this feast? To show
that God appeared on earth and dwelt with men; that the only-begot-
ten Son of God was with us. But he is ever with us. We may, then,
every day, celebrate the feast of Christ’s appearance. What is the
meaning of the feast of the passover ? We then announce the Lord’s
death. But this, too, we do not signify merely at one stated season ;
for, when Paul would free us from being confined to stated times, he
showed that it was possible continually to celebrate the passover, and
said, ‘ As often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show forth
the Lord’s death.’ And what is the import of the feast of Pentecost ?
That the Spirit has visited us. Now as Christ is ever with us, so the
Holy Spirit, too, is ever with us: we may, then, continually celebrate
also the feast of Pentecost.’’?? In like manner, the church historian
‘Socrates remarks, that Christ and the apostles, conformably to Christ-
ian freedom, gave no law respecting feasts, but left everything open
here to the free expression of the feelings. The diversity that existed
in the celebration of festivals among the Christian churches of different
countries, he traces to this very fact — that every thing here had, from
the beginning, with perfect freedom and by slow degrees, spontaneously
shaped itself after different ways.? In the principle lying at the basis
11. Il. ep.ad Galat.c. IV. ed. Martianay, 2 In Pentecost. ἢ. I. §.1, T. f. 458.
TeV sh 272) 8 Socrat. V. 22.
SEASONS OF WORSHIP. 297
of the state laws on this point, and from which many of the arrange-
ments of the Roman church proceeded, we do, indeed, perceive already
the predominance of Jewish notions, which had repressed the original
Christian consciousness.
The reference to Christ crucified, arisen, and glorified, continued to
be, as in the preceding period, the central point of the weekly and of
the yearly festivals and fast-days. The celebration of the dies stationum,
of Wednesday and of Friday, respecting the origin of which we have
spoken in the preceding period, passed over into this, but was observed
only in several of the churches, and in these not after the same manner.
Socrates mentions it as a peculiarity of the Alexandrian church, that,
on Wednesday and on Friday,! the holy scriptures were there read in
the church and expounded by homilies ; and in general the whole ser-
vice conducted as on Sunday, the celebration of the communion except-
ed. ‘This custom probably vanished by degrees in most of the church-
es ;? only Friday continued to be consecrated to the memory of Christ’s
passion. ‘The emperor Constantine, as Sozomen relates,’ enacted a
law, that on Friday as on Sunday, there should be a suspension of busi-
ness at the courts, and in other civil offices, so that the day might be de-
voted with less interruption to the purposes of devotion. At Antioch,
the communion was celebrated on Friday, as well as on Sunday.® Also
at Constantinople, Friday was observed by the more serious Christians,
as a day of penitence and fasting, consecrated to the memory of Christ’s
passion ;° and the sacrament of the supper was distributed. It is true,
the great mass of the citizens took no concern in it ; as we learn from a
discourse of Chrysostom’s,’ complaining of the people, because, while he,
with a few who had met with him, were rendering thanks to God, on a
Friday, for deliverance from threatening famine, most of them had
flocked to the public games of the circus.
We noticed, in the preceding period, the origin of the difference
which prevailed as to the celebration of the Sabbath. The custom, de-
rived from the Jews, of paying a certain respect to the Sabbath, still
continued to be handed down in the Oriental communities.’ In several
1 On the τέτρας and on the παρασκεύη.
Respecting the service which was held at
Alexandria on Friday morning, see Atha-
nas. hist. Arianor. ad monachos, ὁ 81. Σὺυ-
νάξις TH παρασκεύῃ.
2 Yet Epiphanius, in his exposit. fid. ca-
thol. 6. 22, still mentions fasting on the
τέτρας and on the προσάββατον as a univer-
sal custom of the church. Also in the
churches of Milan, it seems to have been
the custom to assemble on these days about
noon, sing together, and partake of the
communion, and with this terminated the
fast. Ambros. expositio in Psalm. 118, § 48,
in case we are to understand the plerique
dies in this passage, as we probably should,
to refer to the dies stationum. According
to Epiphanius. these assemblies convened
about three o'clock in the afternoon.
81,8.
4 This may have stood in the law, which
has not been preserved to our times, by
which Constantine ordered this in respect to
Sunday already before the year 321. See
cod. Theodos. |. II. Tit. 8, 1. I.
5 See Chrysostom. Hom. V. in epist. I.
ad Timoth. § 3.
6 Chrysostom. H. in the sermon first pub-
lished by Montfaucon, T. VI. f. 272, § 1.
Ἥμερα, ἐν ἡ νηστεύειν καὶ duodoyew ἔδει.
7 The one just referred to.
8 In the apostolic constitutions, II. 59,
the Sabbath is particularly mentioned
along with Sunday as a day for the assem-
bling together of the church: VIII. ¢. 33,
that on the Sabbath and on Sunday the
slaves should rest from their labors, and
attend church with the rest to hear the ser-
mon. L. V. 15, that, the Easter Sabbath
excepted, there should be no fasting on the
Sabbath, when God rested from the work
of creation. The 66, among the apostolic
298 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
of the Eastern churches, the Sabbath was celebrated nearly after the
same manner as Sunday. Church assemblies were held, sermons de-
livered, and the communion celebrated on this day.1 The direction
given by the council of Laodicea deserves to be noticed,? viz.: that on
the Sabbath, the gospels should be read along with the other parts of
the holy scriptures. It may be, that the new arrangement which this
council designed to introduce by the -above-cited canon, was simply
that the scriptures generally should be read in church on the Sabbath
in the same manner ason Sunday. And in this case, we must suppose;
the council wished to restore the custom, formerly observed, of assem-
bling for worship on the Sabbath as well as on Sunday, which had now
become obsolete in many of the Eastern churches. Or this ordinance:
may be understood as simply indicating the design of the council, that,
in the meetings for divine worship on the Sabbath, the gospels should
be read together with other parts of the holy scriptures; whence we might
infer, that, as the celebration of the Sabbath had been taken from the
Jews, it had been the custom also to make use of the Old Testament
only on this day, in the church lessons.? In many districts, a punctual
Jewish observance of the Sabbath must doubtless have become common :
hence the council of Laodicea considered it necessary to ordain, that
Christians should not celebrate this day after the Jewish manner, nor
consider themselves bound to abstain from labor.* It was a general
rule in the Eastern church, that there should be no fasting on the Sab-
bath: hence the Sabbath also, as well as Sunday, was excepted from
the period of fasting before Easter. But in many of the Western
churches, particularly in the Roman and the Spanish, opposition to the
Jews and Judaists® had led to the custom of observing the Sabbath
rather as a day of fasting.’ They who were truly enlightened by the
gospel spirit, and knew how to distinguish essentials from non-essentials
in religion, such men as Ambrose of Milan, Jerome, and Augustin,
sought to avoid all controversy on matters of this sort, which had not
been decided by divine authority, and which had no particular connec-
tion with the essence of faith and of sanctification. They held it as a prin-
ciple, that, in such matters, each individual should follow the custom of
his own church, or of the country in which he resided, and strive that
canons, excludes from the fellowship of the
church those who fasted on the Sabbath
and on Sunday.
1 As it concerns the last at Antioch; see
the passage referred to above respecting
- Friday.
2C.16. Περὲ τοῦ ἐν σαββώτῳ εὐαγγελία
μετὰ ἑτέρων γράφων ἀναγινωσκέσϑαι.
3 Tt is an objection to the last interpreta-
tion, that both εὐαγγελία and ἑτέρων γράφων
stand without the article; accordingly, do
not express here any antithesis; but the
whole of the sacred writings, according to
their different parts, seems to be indicated
here generally. Moreover, if such an an-
tithesis had been intended, instead of ἑτέρων
γράφων, the phrase παλαίας διαϑήκης would
doubtless have been used. But the difficul-
ty with the first interpretation is, that the
customary celebration of the Sabbath is
every where presupposed by this council,
and they considered themselves bound rath-
er to moderate the Judaizing tendency to
carry this celebration to an extreme.
10. 29. ‘Ori οὐ δεῖ χριστιανοὺς ἰουδαΐζειν
καὶ ἐν τῷ σαββώτῳ σχολάζειν.
5 Hence, by the decrees of the council of
Laodicea, c. 49 and 51, the communion
and the eommemoration of the martyrs
might be celebrated, during the period of
fasting, on the Sabbath as well as on Sun-
day.
© See vol. I. p. 296.
7 See Cassian. institut. coenobial. 1. TIT.
e.9et 10. Hieronym. ep. 71 ad Lucinium
§ 6.
SEASONS OF WORSHIP. 299
‘the bond of charity might not be broken by differences in such unim-
portant matters, and that occasion of offence might not be given to any
man. Ambrose, when questioned on this point, replied that at Rome
he was accustomed to fast on the Sabbath, but in Milan he did not.
Augustin rightly applies the rules given by Paul, in the fourteenth
chapter of the epistle to the Romans, to this diversity of practice. He
complains, that weak minds were disturbed by the controversial obsti-
nacy or the superstitious scruples of many, who would insist on that
practice as being the only right one, for which they supposed they had
found certain reasons, no matter how weak, or which they had brought
with them as the ecclesiastical usage of their own country, or which they
had seen in foreign lands; although neither the holy scriptures, nor
the universal tradition of the church, decided any thing as to the point,
and although it was a matter of perfect indifference as to any practical
advantage.! But that rigid hierarchical spirit of the Roman church,
which, from a very early period, required uniformity in things unessen-
tial, would, in this case also, put a restraint on religious freedom. In
the Roman church, it was affirmed that this custom came down from
Peter, the first of the apostles, and hence ought to be universally ob-
served. The idle tale was there set afloat, when the origin of that cus-
tom from the old opposition between the originally pagan and the origin-
ally Jewish communities was no longer known, that the apostle Peter
instituted a fast on the Sabbath in preparing for the dispute with Simon
Magus.2 The Roman bishop Innocent decided, in his decretals addres-
sed to the Spanish bishop Decentius, (at the very time that men like
Augustin expressed themselves with so much liberality on this differ-
ence,) that the Sabbath, like Friday, must be observed as a fast day.®
In defence of this rule, he offered a better reason at least than those
monks ; viz.: that, in its historical import, the Sabbath necessarily he-
longed to the period of sorrow which preceded Sunday, the joyful day
of the feast of the resurrection; since on both the former days the
apostles were plunged in grief, and on the Sabbath had hid them-
selves for fear.
As to the celebration of Sunday, the custom, which had long prevailed
in the church, of consecrating this day in a special manner to relig-
1 Ep. 54 ad Januarium, ὃ 3. Sensi spe
dolens et gemens multas infirmorum per-
turbationes fieri per quorundam fratrum
contentiosam obstinationem vel superstitio-
sam timiditatem, qui in rebus hujusmodi,
qu neque scripture sanctz auctoritate,
neque universalis ecclesize traditione, neque
vite corrigend utilitate, ad certum possunt
terminum pervenire, (tantum quia subest
qualiscunque ratiocinatio cogitantis, aut quia
in sua patria sie ipse consuevit, aut quia ibi
vidit, ubi peregrinationem suam, quo remo-
tiorem a suis, eo doctiorem factam putat,)
tam litigiosas excitant queestiones, ut, nisi
quod ipsi faciunt, nihil rectum. existiment.
To this point of dispute, the two beautiful
letters of Augustin relate, the one just
cited, and ep. 36 ad Casulanum.
2 That Roman spirit expresses itself after
a characteristic manner in the following
language of a treatise which was probably
composed by some member of the Roman
clergy, and was intended to procure the
general recognition of the Roman custom:
Petrus, apostolorum caput, cceli janitor et
ecclesie fundamentum, extincto Simone,
qui diaboli fuerat, nonnisi jejunis vincendi
figura, (that Simon Magus could be van-
quished by Peter only through fasting, was
represented as a typical allusion to the fact,
that Satan also, whom Simon Magus rep-
resented, could be conquered only by fast-
ing,) id ipsum Romanos edocuit, quorum
fides annuntiatur universo orbi terrarum.
8 § 7. Sabbato jejunandum esse ratio evi-
dentissima demonstrat.
900 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
ious employments, and of abstaining from all worldly business, was
established by a synodal law, the twenty-ninth canon of the council of
Laodicea, yet with this restriction, that all Christians should abstain
from their worldly business if they were able.1 A collision betwixt this
ecclesiastical ordinance and the relations to the state, which must have
arisen in the earlier situation of the church, could now be easily remov-
ed, when the state itself recognized the church as such, and endeavored
to uphold her in the prosecution of her principles and the attainment
of her ends. We have already said, that the emperor Constantine,
in a law enacted previous to the year 821, commanded the suspension
of all suits and courts of justice on Sunday. It was a beautiful excep-
tion, wholly in accordance with the spirit of Christianity, by which he
provided that the emancipation of slaves, after the usual forms, should
be permitted to take place on Sunday. As Eusebius, in his life of
Constantine, relates, he also forbade all military exercises on this day.?
By a law of the year 386, those older changes effected by the empe-
ror Constantine were more rigorously enforced, and, in general, civil
transactions of every kind on Sunday were strictly forbidden. Whe-
ever transgressed was to be considered, in fact, as guilty of sacrilege,
(as a sacrilegus.) 4
Owing to the prevailing passion at that time, especially in the large
cities, to run after the various public shows, it so happened that when
these spectacles fell on the same days which had been consecrated by
the church to some religious festival, they proved a great hindrance to
the devotion of Christians, though chiefly, it must be allowed, to those
whose Christianity was the least an affair of the life and of the heart.
Church-teachers, such as Chrysostom, (see above,) were, in truth, often
forced to complain, that in such competitions the theatre was vastly
more frequented than the church. And among those who gave up the
church for the theatre, many might be found not wholly unsusceptible
of right feelings, who, if they had not been hurried along by the pre-
vailing corruption, would have employed Sunday in a way more serious
and more healthful for their inner life. Moreover, by the civil relations
of those times, many were obliged, on account of their particular place
among the citizens, to take part in the arrangements necessary for the
support of the public shows, and so to be interrupted in their devotions
even against their will. Hence, the North-African church resolved, at
an ecclesiastical convention held at Carthage in 401, to petition the
emperor, that the public shows might be transferred from the Christian
Sunday and from feast days to some other days of the week.® Owing
to the prevailing passion for the shows, this petition could not be grant-
ed, perhaps, without considerable difficulty. First, in the year 420,
1 Elye duvaivto σχολάζειν. oportere quemquam Christianorum cogi ad
27. IL. Tit. VIII. 1. 1. hee spectacula, maxime, quia in his exer-
8 Kuseb. vit. Constantin. [V. 18, 19,20. — cendis, que contra precepta Dei sunt, nul-
4 Cod. Theodos. lib. VIII. Tit. VIII. 1.3. la persecutionis necessitas a quopiam adhi-
5Jt is adduced as a reason: Populi ad_ benda est; sed, uti oportet, homo in libera
circum magis quam ad ecclesiam conveni- voluntate subsistat sibi divinitus concessa.
unt, —and on the score of those obligations Cod. can. eccles. Afr. c. 61.
devolving on many classes of citizens: Nec
SEASONS OF WORSHIP. 301
the exhibition of spectacles on Sunday, and on the principal feast days
of the Christians, was forbidden, in order that the devotion of the faith-
ful might be free from all disturbance.! In this way, the church re-
ceived help from the state for the furtherance of her ends, which could
not be obtained in the preceding period. But had it not been for that
᾿ confusion of spiritual and secular interests, had it not been for the vast
number of mere outward conversions thus brought about, she would
have needed no such help. The spirit of church fellowship could effect
more in those ancient times than all which the outward force of politi-
cal law and a stricter church discipline could now do, towards restrain-
ing or expelling such as had never been brought to feel the inward
power of that spirit ; and the church of those times could well dispense,
therefore, with the outward support.
In respect to the yearly festivals, those still continued, at first, to be
universally observed, which answered to the weekly feast-days ; for, as
we observed in the preceding period, the circle of yearly feasts had
sprung out of that of the weekly feasts, and both had arisen from the
same fundamental idea, around which the whole Christian life revolved.4
Hence, Augustin, about the year 400, still mentions, as the celebra-
tions recognized in the whole church, only those of Christ’s passion
and resurrection, of his ascension, and of the outpouring of the Holy
Ghost.*
The difference of views with regard to the feast of the passover, which
~ we had occasion to notice in the preceding period, continued to exist
also in this ; but men were wise enough not to allow the bond of Christ-
ian fellowship to be ruptured by this difference.* Yet the spirit of
church uniformity which sprung up in the West, sought to insinuate it-
self also here. The council of Arles, in 314, already decreed that the
paschal feast should be celebrated on the same day throughout the
world ;° but this ecclesiastical assembly, to which the people of the
East paid little attention, had no such great and general influence as to
be able to triumph over the old Asiatic custom. Now to the emperor
Constantine it seemed scandalous, that the commemoration of the fact
which laid the foundation for the recovery of mankind should not be
celebrated by all Christians on the same day ; and that, while some were
fasting, others should be feasting. ΤῸ him, such a difference would
perhaps appear more grave, and less compatible with the unity of the
Catholic church, than an important dogmatical difference, known by him
to exist about this time, in respect to the doctrine of Christ’s divinity.
He attempted, first through the negotiations of Hosius, bishop of Cor-
1 Tote Chrisfianorum ac fidelium mentes
Dei cultibus occupentur. Cod. Theodos.
Τὰ WA 5:
2 This was acknowledged even by the
Roman bishop Innocentius; and from this
very fact he inferred, that as fasting was
practised not merely on Good Friday, but
on the Friday of each week, the same prac-
tice should be observed also in respect to
the Sabbath. (L. ¢. ὁ 7. Quod si putant
semel atque uno sabbato jejunandum ; ergo
VOL. II.
et Dominica et sexta feria semel in Pascho
erit utique celebranda.)
8 Que toto terrarum orbe servantur,—
quod Domini passio et resurrectio et ad-
scensio in ccelum et adventus de ccelo Spir
tus Sancti anniversaria solennitate celebran-
tur, ep. 54 ad Januar. and the passage
above referred to from Hieronym. commens&
ep. ad Galat. 1. Il. ¢. 4.
4 Sozom. I. 16.
ΒΟΙΝΣ
302 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
dova, to bring the churches together in one usage. In this, however,
he did not succeed; he therefore convoked, partly for this object, the
general council of Nice, m 825. As the reason which, in earlier times,
had led to the Oriental custom, and which especially contributed to pre-
Serve it, viz. the adherence to Judaism, no longer existed, — but, on the
contrary, a polemical tendency in opposition to the Jewish spirit rather
predominated, — this change in the way of thinking would naturally lead
to the laying aside’ of the ancient custom. Accordingly an agreement
was entered into, at this council, to abandon the old Jewish custom, and
to celebrate the remembrance of Christ’s passion always on Friday, the
remembrance of Christ’s resurrection on Sunday. It was acknowledged
that, by the sacrifice of Christ for mankind, the feast of the passover had
lost its significance ; that the thanksgiving for the sacrifice of Christ in
the sacrament of the supper had taken the place of the passover, and that
the former was restricted to no particular time.? But, as it usually
happens, there were still many communities and individuals in the East,
who refused to depart from the old traditional custom, on account of its
very antiquity, without assigning any further reason for their refusal.
Instead of winning them over by love, the church excluded them from her
communion.? Persecution made the old custom still dearer to them ;
they accused the Nicene council of having altered it out of flattery to
Constantine.
The council of Nice, it is true, had decreed? that the feast of the
passover should, for the future, be celebrated on one and the same day ;
but they had suggested no means for securing uniformity in the reckoning
of the time ; and the purpose of the council, therefore, was still far from be-
ing attained. In the Alexandrian churches, where astronomical and math-
ematical knowledge was very generally diffused, the most accurate cal-
culations were instituted, which the whole Eastern church followed.
The bishop of Alexandria made known every year, at the feast of
Epiphany, by a circular letter® to his whole diocese, the day on which
the next Easter festival would fall. But, as the Roman church was not
so exact, differences arose as to the time of Haster, between the Eastern
churches and those of the West, which amounted sometimes to a week,
occasionally even to a month; until at length, particularly by means of
the Roman abbot Dionysius Exiguus in the sixth century, the Alexan-
drian mode of reckoning was introduced also into the Roman church.®
1 This reason, that it was so disgraceful a
thing for the Christian church to govern
itself by the pattern of the unbelieving
Jews, who had crucified the Lord, is made
-particularly prominent therefore by the em-
peror, μηδὲν ἔστω ἡμῖν κοίνον μετὰ τοῦ ἐχϑί-
στου τῶν ᾿Ιουδαίων. ὄχλου. See Euseb. de
vita Constantini, 1. IIL. ¢. 18.
2-This is now τὸ πάσχα ἐπιτέλειν, says
Chrysostom against the advocates of the
Jewish custom. Orat. c. Judexos. III. § 4,
ὙΠ 1.61}:
3 They were denominated as a separate
sect, (after that fourteenth day of the month
Nisan,) Quartodecimani, τεσσαρεςκαιδεκατί-
Tat, τετραδίται, (probably by an abbrevia-
tion,) πρωτοπασχίται.
4 It is remarkable that this decree occurs
only in the letter in which the emperor
Constantine (see above) made known and
recommended the decisions of this council,
and that among its own Canons no one is to
be found which has any reference to it.
Perhaps it was omitted out-of indulgence
to the adherents of the ancient custom,
who, it was hoped, would be induced to
yield by degrees.
5 Libellus paschalis, γράμματα πασχαλία.
δ The more accurate and detailed devel-
opment of this point is to be found in a
SEASONS OF WORSHIP. 303
ΤῸ became, by degrees, as we have observed already in the preceding
eriod, a more universally prevailing custom to prepare for the jubilee
of the feast of the resurrection by a season of penitence and fasting.
This fast was compared with the forty days’ fast of Christ; (see
vol. I. p. 800;) hence it received the name of τεσσαρακοστή, quadri-
“gesima; although the whole time of forty days was by no means ob-
served so generally as the name was applied! It was sought by de-
grees, however, to make the period of fasting, in its whole extent, actu-
ally correspond to the ancient name (quadrigesima.) In determining,
then, the number of weeks before Easter, that difference of usage be-
tween the Eastern and the Western church by which the Sabbath was
excepted from the fast-days in the former and not in the latter church,
must have had its influence.
This period of fasting was designed to furnish the Christians an op-
portunity of preparing themselves, by a more moderate indulgence of
the sensual appetites, by abstinence from the pleasures of the world,
and by the diligent reading of God’s word, to enter more worthily upon
the celebration of the days consecrated to higher spiritual enjoyments,
— to commemorate the new creation in humanity which came from the
resurrection and glorification of Christ, — to engage, by means of self-
examination and repentance, in a worthy celebration of the holy supper,
in which so many participated at the time of the Easter festival.?
A portion of the year so consecrated might also send a healthful in-
fluence through the rest of it. An occasion was offered to those who
divided their whole time between worldly business and sensual pleasures,
for collecting their thoughts from this dissipation and for self-examina-
tion. The holy scriptures, which at least they heard read in the church,
and sermons pointedly exhorting to repentance, would lead them to this.
Their minds, less absorbed in the things of sense, would be more open
to spiritual impressions. The solemn, earnest stillness following at once
upon tumult and dissipation in the large cities, the sudden change in
the aspect of public life, was calculated to arouse the trifling mind out
of its sleep of security, and render it susceptible of higher influences.
In truth, the commencement of the fasts must have produced a striking
countries, but also among individuals, a
different custom existed in this respect.
Some, who would be eminently pious, pass-
dissertation of F. Walch, in the novis com-
mentariis Soc. Reg. Gottingensis, T. I.
Ideler’s Chronology, T. II. p. 202, ete.
Others
1 About this difference Socrates treats,
V. 22. At Antioch the number of forty
days was accurately observed as early as
the fourth century; for Chrysostom says,
orat. III. ο. Judxos, ὁ 4, T. 1. f. 611, in a
discourse deliveréd during the fast: Nyoreto-
μὲν τὰς τεσσαρακόντα ταύτας ἡμέρας, where
the only question that arises is, whether the
Sundays and Sabbaths, in which no fasts
were observed, were also reckoned among
these forty days. The difference related
not alone to the number of days, but also
to the extending of the fast to each day,
and to the kind of abstinence which was
practised at meals during this period. Not
only among the communities of different
ed two entire days without food.
not only refrained, like the rest, from wine,
flesh and oil at their meals, but supported
themselves wholly on bread and water.
H. IV. de statuis, § 6.
2 This aim is assigned to the institution
by Chrysostom, orat. adv. Judzos. IIT. § 4,
T.1,f. 611. “Oc πατέρες ἐτύπωσαν “ἡμέρας
τεσσαρακόντα νηστείας, εὔχων, ἀκροάσεως,
συνόδων, ly’ ἐν ταῖς ἡμέραις ταυταῖς καϑαρ-
ϑέντες μετ᾽ ἀκριβείας ἄπαντες καὶ ov εὔχων
καὶ δι’ ἐλεημοσύνης καὶ διὰ νηστείας καὶ διὰ
παννυχίδων καὶ διὰ δακρύων καὶ δι ἐξομολο-
γήσεως καὶ διὰ τῶν ἄλλων ἁπάντων, οὕτω
κατὰ δυνώμιν τὴν ἡμέτεραν μετὰ καϑαροῦ
συνείδοτος προσίωμεν. .
904 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. FASTING.
change in the large towns. ‘ Quiet, to-day, is nowhere disturbed,” says
Chrysostom in a fast sermon preached at Antioch,! ‘nowhere do we
hear cries; nowhere the noise of the shambles, the bustle of cooks. All
this is past; and our city presents to-day the appearance of a sedate
and modest matron. ‘To-day, there is no difference between the table
of the emperor and that of the poor man.” And in another sermon :?
“‘Then, no songs are heard in the evening, no revels of the drunkard
in the day; the voice of clamor and contention is hushed, and profound
quiet everywhere reigns.” Still, as it usually happens with such sud-
den revolutions of life, this change was more often transient than en-
during, more apparent than real. If there was a horse-race at the
circus during the fast, all was over; the city rapidly assumed another
look. The same persons who had been momentarily aroused by the
earnest, impressive words of a Chrysostom, who had beaten their breasts
and sighed over their sins, now filled the circus, and took a passionate
interest in the contending sides.3 True, men soon returned back again
to the previous quiet and repose of the fast; but, if this could be so
easily disturbed by other impressions from abroad, it is plain how super-
ficial must have been the change produced on these occasions. As is
usually the case with such changes, prescribed by law and enforced by
constraint, the end often failed of being. attained because confounded
with the means. Men looked for justification and increase in holiness,
in outward fasting, and entirely forgot in this the essential things, true
repentance and sanctification, which the period of fasting was only de-
signed to remind them of. Or the end was missed because men sub-
mitted to the laws of the church from constraint and in opposition to
their inward feelings, partly influenced by the sense of shame, and
partly by dread of the divine punishment. Hence many sought to in-
demnify themselves beforehand for the forced abstinence imposed on
them by the fasts, by indulging in the more riotous excess on the days
immediately preceding them. Many only complied with the laws of
fasting in their literal sense ; refraining from meat, but taking care to
provide themselves with the daintier fare out of what was permitted by
the fast laws literally interpreted.®
The more eminent church-teachers of this period, Chrysostom, Au-
gustin, Maximus of Turin, Czsarius of Arles, Leo the Great, often
warned against this hypocritical tendency of the fasts. They showed
that fasting was without force or meaning, except as accompanied with
the hearty forsaking of sin and sincere penitence. They exhorted
Christians to use fasting as a means of learning how to subdue sinful
‘ passions and desires, propensities and habits. They gave examples,
especially Chrysostom, to show how this must be done. They took this
occasion to rebuke the corrupt tendencies particularly prevailing in
1H. II. in Genesin, ὁ 1, T. IV. f. 8. T.I0.f.315. Παραΐνω ὥστε μὴ τὴν ἐκ τῆς
21πη Annam II. I. § 1, T. IV. f. 700. νηστείας ἐσομένην ὠφελείαν προανέλειν Aat-
8 See the admonitory discourse of Chry- μαργίᾳ καὶ μέϑῃ.
sostom, preached after an incident of this 5 Augustin. p. 209, § 3, et 108,§ 1. Pre-
sort at Antioch. H. VI. in Genesin, T. tiosiores sine, carnibus animalium escas.
IV. opp. On the other hand: Restringends sunt de-
4 Chrysost. de Poenitentia, H. V. § 5, lici, non mutanda.
THE GREAT WEEK. 305
their own times and under their own eyes, and warned men against
thera. They called upon Christians to unite charity and benevolence
witk fasting ; to appropriate to these purposes what they saved by ab-
stinence ; to forgive each other’s offences ; to lay aside contentions ; as,
in fact, the bishops made it a point, at this particular season of fasting,
* to close all disputes in the communities, and bring about a reconciliation
between the contending parties ; using, as a means for this end, the con-
viction of universal sinfulness and need of redemption awakened by the
season, ad the approaching celebration of the remembrance of Christ’s
sufferings for the sins of mankind: they moreover called on masters in
particular to treat their servants with kindness.
The season of fasting ended with the week which, on account of the
great events connected with the salvation of mankind, and commemo-
rated in it, was called the great week (ἑβδομὰς ἡ μεγάλη.)}} It began
with Palm-Sunday, (ἡμέρα τῶν βαίων,) and closed with the great Sabbath,
as it was called. ‘The approach of the Easter festival reminded all,
high and low, of their individual sins, and of the grace to which they
owed their forgiver:ess. Hence the emperors made laws? to release
those who had been arrested for minor offences; and on Palm-Sunday
special decrees of mercy were frequently issued by them. ‘ As on this
day,’ says Chrysostom in one of his discourses, ‘‘ our Lord delivered men
from the chains of sin, so his servants will do all in their power to imi-
tate his love to mankind, and, as they cannot deliver men from spiritual
fetters, will release those who are bodily bound.”
In this week of solemnities, some days were particularly distinguished ;
Thursday, for example, in which was commemorated the last supper of
Christ with his disciples, and the institution of the Eucharist. On this
occasion ‘great numbers were accustomed to participate in the sacrament
of the supper. While, on other occasions, the holy supper was only to
be received with fasting, it was dispensed on this day in memory of the
original institution, in the afternoon, and could be received after a meal.®
Next, came the day commemorative of Christ’s passion. At Antioch,
perhaps also in other churches of the East, it was customary for the
church on this day to hold its assemblies in the grave-yard, to commem-
orate the crucifixion of Christ without the gates of Jerusalem.’ The
week was closed by the great Sabbath, (τὸ μέγα σάββατον, Ὑ on which
many were baptized, and put on their white robes; and in the evening
the cities were illuminated, and appeared like streams of fire. The
whole population poured along with torches to church, and vigils were
kept till the dawn of the morning of universal jubilee, the feast of the
resurrection. The small number of Pagans who still dwelt amongst
1 See the Homily of Chrysostom re- © Thus it was at least in the North-Afri-
specting the meaning of this name.
2 See in the codex Theodos. the titulus
de indulgentiis.
8 Ἢ ayia πέντας, quinta feria Pasche,
dies anniversarius, quo cena Dominica cel-
ebratur.
. *See Chrysostom’s discourse delivered
on this day. T. IL f. 386.
VOL. II. 20"
can church, by the decree of the council of
Hippo, A.D. 393, in the cod. canon. eccles.
Afr. c. 41, Augustin. ep. 54 ad Januar. § 9,
6 The ἡμέρα τοῦ σταΐρου, also called in 8
more restricted sense, Pascha.
7See the discourse of Chrysostom on
this day, V. II.
806 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
the Christians must also, in one way or another, have been affected, in
spite of themselves, by what so moved the whole multitude on this occa-
sion of general Easter vigils.}
The custom having been borrowed from the Jews, of holding a last
festival on the eighth day after the commencement of the series, the cele-
bration of the passover was concluded with the following Sunday as the
eighth day of the feast. Throughout the whole of this week, from the
Easter Sabbath and onward, the persons then baptized had worn their
white garments, and, as new Christians, the new-born,? had formed a
separate division of the community, easily distinguished by their dress.
This sacred time of the celebration of their new birth being now over,
they laid aside their white robes: the bishop exhorted them to a faith-
ful observance of their baptismal vow, and they joined the rest of the
community. This important transaction gave its name to this Sunday.
So it was at least in the Western church.? Thus, then, the whole period
of fourteen days, reckoning from Palm-Sunday, was a festival. As
such, it was recognized also by the civil authority, and in it no court
of justice could be held. Moreover the fifty days after Easter were
specially distinguished, although the feast of Ascension, and the feast
of Pentecost, in the more restricted sense — the feast of the out-pouring
of the Holy Ghost, were selected from the rest for particular cele-
bration. In the Eastern church, the Acts of the Apostles were read
during this time, in the public worship, as recording what the risen and
glorified Christ had wrought through the apostles ; and in the year 425,
it was decreed, that during this whole period the devotion of Christians
should not be disturbed by any public sports.°
To these were added two principal festivals, which, as we observed
in the preceding period, most probably existed in their germ in very
early times, but which first began to be more generally observed dur-
ing the course of the fourth century, and that in an opposite order, —
the one coming from the East to the West, and the other from the
West to the East ; the festival of Christ’s baptism, and the festival of
his nativity.
As to the first, we find it mentioned by Chrysostom, as an ancient
1 Respecting this Sabbath: Λαμπροφορία dealbatus intra octavas suas. Ep. 34, § 3.
καὶ φωταγωγία, nv ἰδίᾳ τὲ καὶ δημοσίᾳ συνεσ-
τησώμεϑα' πὰν γένος ανϑρώπων μίκρου καὶ
ἀξία πάσα δαψίλει τῷ πύρι τὴν νύκτα κατα-
φωτίζοντες. Gregor. Nazianz. orat. 11. in
Pascha v. orat. 42, at the beginning. Au-
gustin: Clara vigiliz hujus celebritas toto
orbe terrarum. Respecting the Pagans:
΄ Ista nocte multi dolore, multi pudore, non-
nulli etiam, qui fider propinquant, Dei jam
timore non dormiunt. P. 219.
2 Novi, infantes.
8 Octava infantium, dies novorum, do-
minica in albis, κυριάκη ἐν λεύκοις. Aucus-
tin. p. 376. Hodie octave dicuntur infan-
tium; miscentur hodie fidelibus infantes
nostri. P. 260. Hodie completis sacramen-
tum octavarum vestrarum. Comp. ep. 55,
§ 35. Respecting the newly baptized: Veste
It may perhaps have been otherwise in the
Eastern church, where, as it seems, the
newly baptized wore their white garments
until the end of the feast of Pentecost. See
the passage presently to be referred to from
the Cod. Theodos.
4. Dies feriarum, sancti quoque Paschse
dies, qui septeno vel praecedunt numero vel
sequuntur. Cod. Theodos. |. 11. T. VIII. 1. 2.
ὃ. Cod. Theodos. 1. XV. Tit. VII. 1. 5.
Quamdiu ceelestis lumen lavacri imitantia
novam sancti baptismatis lucem vestimenta
testantur, (which is probably said only in
conformity with the use of the Eastern
church,) quo tempore et commemoratio
apostolic passionis, totius Christianitatis
magistre, a cunctis jure celebratur. Which
refers to the reading of the Acts.
FEAST OF EPIPHANY. 807
principal feast of the church in Eastern Asia, under the name of the
feast of the appearance or manifestation of Christ, who had till then been
hidden from the world ; ἡ ἐπιφάνεια or τὰ ἐπιφάνεια according to Tit. 2: 11.1
But if, in the region where this feast originated, another festival having
reference to the first appearance of the Logos in human nature, a feast
- of Christ’s nativity, was already existing, the latter would hardly have
become so entirely lost sight of, and a name which belonged to it trans-
ferred to the feast of Christ’s baptism. More probably, this was the
only festival which in that district had reference to the first appearance
of Christ. Accordingly Chrysostom actually denominates it, in the dis-
course already cited, which he pronounced at the feast of Pentecost in
Antioch, the festival of Epiphany, the first among the principal feasts,
and the only one which had reference to the appearance of Christ
among men.?_ He speaks here according to the views of Christian an-
tiquity which prevailed in those countries, where a Christmas festival
was as yet wholly unknown. In a certain sense, men doubtless had
some reason for placing this festival in special connection with the bap-
tism of Christians, — inasmuch as the divine life, which was to proceed
forth from Christ to all the faithful, here first began to reveal itself in
a visible way to the greater portion of men. But as the age, confound-
ing the outward sign with the inward grace, ascribed to the water in
baptism a supernatural power to sanctify, so it supposed that Christ
first imparted to the water its power to sanctify, by his own baptism.®
The first indication of the celebration of this feast having spread to the
Western church we find about the year 360; for the historian Ammi-
anus Marcellinus relates,‘ that the emperor Julian, then residing at
Vienna in the month of January, celebrated the feast of Epiphany in
the Christian church. By means of the union of the Greek colonial
and mercantile towns in the south of France with the East, this feast
may have been adopted, perhaps, in these districts, at an earlier period
than in the other countries of the West. It was because this festival
was originally unknown to the Western church, that the Donatists, who
had separated themselves from the dominant church at a time when as
yet no knowledge of any such feast existed among the people of the
West, rejected it as an innovation ; as they did other regulations that
arose after their secession.’ And as this festival was originally un-
known to the Western church, so it happened that its meaning also was
changed, though in such a way as to be easily connected with the fun-
damental idea of the festival. The general conception of a manifesta-
1 Chrysostom in his Homily on this feast,
ὁ 2, T. 11. f. 369. Ἐπείδη oby’ ὁτέ ἐτέχϑη,
τότε πάσιν ἐγένετο καταδῆλος, ἀλλ᾽ ὁτὲ éBar-
τίσατο.
2H. I. in Pentecost. § 1, T. II. f. 458.
Πὰρ᾽ ἡμῖν ἑορτὴ πρώτη τὰ ἐπιφάνια" τίς 7
ὑποϑέσις τῆς ἑορτῆς, ἐπείδη ϑέος ἐπὶ τῆς
γῆς ὦφϑη καὶ τοῖς ἀνθρώποις συνανεστράφη.
8 Τὴν τῶν ὑδάτων ἡγίασε φύσιν. Chry-
sostomus. Out of this false notion also
sprung the custom at Antioch, of very zeal-
ously drawing water about midnight of this
feast, to which water was attributed the
wonderful property of remaining fresh sev-
eral years. Even Chrysostom partook of
this superstition, h. de baptismo Christi, § 2.
Being the feast of Christ’s baptism, and of
baptism generally, it was also called in the
Eastern church, ἑορτὴ τῶν φώτων, Or TA φῶτα.
So in Gregory of Nazianzen.
41,. 21, ¢. 2. ΥΝ
5 Augustin. p. 202, ὁ 3. Merito istum
diem nunquam nobiscum Donatiste cele-
brare voluerunt, quia nec unitate amant,
nec Orientali ecclesis communicant.
808 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
tion of Christ in his divine dignity, or in-his divine calling as a Redeemer,
was applied in a way which must have been more agreeable to the
point of view taken by the communities of the West, which were formed
of pagan Christians, than the view of it which had first sprung out of the
peculiar conceptions of Jewish Christians ; (see vol. I., sect. 3, p. 802 5)
and, at the same time, this festival was brought ito closer connection
with Christmas, which had been established here for a long time already..
While, in the countries where the feast of Christ’s baptism had its dis-
tinct traditional meaning as the feast of Epiphany, and where it was
adhered to, therefore, without any change, everything which had refe-
rence to Christ’s infancy was connected with the festival of Christmas ;
in the Eastern church, on the other hand, the idea of the manifestation
of Christ was applied in a preéminent sense to his manifestation to the
heathen world, as the Redeemer of all mankind. The festival was re-
ferred to the coming of the three wise men from the East, who were
supposed to be Heathens ; and so this feast became the feast of the first
announcement of salvation to the heathen world, of the first conversion
of some Heathens, as the precursors of the approaching general conver-
sion of the pagan nations.1_ When these two points of view became united
in one, the general conception of the Epiphany was referred to the first
manifestation of the miraculous power of Jesus after his baptism, in the
first miracle at Gana, the dies natalis virtutum Domini.”
The case was directiy the reverse with the festival of Christ’s nativity,
which in its origin belonged to the Western church. As it was partic-
ularly from the church of the West the dogmatic tendency proceeded,
by which the doctrine of original sin cleaving to all men from their
birth, and of the necessity of their being renewed and sanctified in order
to deliverance from this corrupt nature, was clearly unfolded ; as it was
in the church of the West that the practice of infant baptism first be-
came generally spread; so too in the Western church originated the
festival which ‘refers to the sanctification of man’s nature. from its first
germ by participation in a divine life. This feast first makes its ap-
pearance, as one generally celebrated in the Roman church, under the
Roman bishop Liberius, after the middle of the fourth century. The
general participation in the celebration of this feast leads to the infer-
ence, that it was not at that time a festival wholly new. It was not till
later, however, that it spread from the Roman church to Eastern Asia.
From what we have previously observed respecting the celebration of
the feast of Epiphany in this part of the church, it would already seem
1 Augustin. p. 203... Hodierno die mani-
festatus redemptor omnium gentium, fecit
sollennitatem omnibus gentibus. The mys-
tic interpretation of Psalm 72, v.10, led to
the converting of the three Magi into three
kings. See Tertullian. adv. Judzos, 6. 9.
2" Maximus of Turin, in the beginning of
the fifth century, says, after having cited all
the three modes of explaining the feast:
Sed quid potissimum hoe: factum die, novit
ipse, qui fecit. H. VI. He calls it a cer-
tain tradition, that the three facts collectively
occurred on the same day, the sixth of Jan-
uary; but in H. VIL. he says, that although
the tradition respecting what occurred on
that day, and respecting that to which the
feast alluded, was different, yet there was
but one faith and one devotion.
8 Ambrose relates, that when his sister
Marcella was consecrated as a nun on the
dies natalis Salvatoris, in St. Peter’s church,
by the bishop Liberius, the latter said to
her: Vides quantus ad natalem sponsi tui
Ε ἃ convenerit. Ambros. de virginib
"67 3:
CHRISTMAS. 809
‘clear, that the Christmas feast could not be one which originated there ;
but Chrysostom says expressly, in a discourse pronounced at Antioch
in celebration of this festival, on the 25th of December of the year 386,
that it had first become known there less than ten years before Ina
sermon which Chrysostom pronounced on the 20th of December in the
same year, on the feast of a martyr,” he digresses from the proper sub-
ject of his discourse for the purpose of inviting his hearers to participate
in the approaching festival of Christmas. The way in which he speaks
of it, shows how desirous he was of making the interest more general,
which he himself felt in a festival still new to this portion of the church.
In the next following discourse, on the 25th of December, he says, in-
deed, that this feast, although still new in that part of the world, yet
soon acquired equal authority with the more ancient high festivals: of
this, the crowded assemblies, which the churches could scarcely contain,
bore witness. But still, it is evident from his own remarks, that, as
usually happens with new church regulations, all were not satisfied with
the celebration of this new festival. A controversy arose about it.
While some denounced the festival as an innovation, others affirmed in
its defence that it had been known of old from Thrace to Cadiz.° This
difference of opinion led him into a detailed argument in support of the
festival. Its object would of course be acknowledged by every Christ-
ian of the orthodox church at that time, as worthy of commemoration.
The grounds of opposition, therefore, could relate only to the arbitrary
1 Hom. in diem natal. Christi, § 1, T. IT.
f. 355. Οὔπω dexarov ἔστιν ἔτος, ἐξ οὗ δήλη
καὶ γνώριμος ἡμῖν αὕτη ἡ ἡμέρα γεγενῆται.
True, he is speaking in that place particu-
larly of the celebration of this feast on the
twenty-fifth of December ; yet the course and
mode of his argument shows that it was
only on the assumption of the twenty-fifth
of December as the birth-day of Christ, a
distinct feast for the celebration of this
birth-day had there been founded. If it had
already been the custom there at an earlier
period to celebrate some festival of this sort,
but on a different day, he would without
doubt have separated the celebration of
such a feast generally from the assumption
of the twenty-fifth of December for its cel-
ebration. He would have endeavored to
show the want of foundation for reckoning
of the time previously fixed upon, before
he adduced the reasons for the new calcula-
tion. Moreover, it would assuredly have
been yet more difficult to introduce the de-
terminate time adopted at Rome into the
Antiochian church, if another time had
there already heen fixed upon. The au-
thority of the Roman church would hardly
have been such as to induce the whole
community to tfansfer a feast already ex-
isting, to another day. It may be conjec-
tured, that, previous to this time, people
were as far from thinking to consecrate a
feast to the hirth-day of Christ, as they were
from the thought of chronologically deter-
mining when this birth-day occurred; for
we find the bishop of Edessa still declaring
in the seventh century, that nobody knew
on what day Christ was born. See Asse-
mani bibl. oriental. T. II. f. 1636. It was not
until men believed that there was some ac-
count which could be relied on respecting
this last-mentioned fact, that they were led
to connect with it the celebration of a par
ticular feast. At the same time it may be
said perhaps with truth, that the interest in
behalf of a festival which must have com-
mended itself to the feelings of Christians,
contributed to create the belief and admis;
sion that the time had been truly deter-
mined,
2 Philogonius. TT. 1. f. 492.
8 L. c. § 3.
4 Which he here styles “the mother of
all other feasts, μητρόπολις πασῶν τῶν ἕορ-
τῶν," as indeed all the others presuppose
the birth of Christ; and he names on this
occasion the principal feasts, ἀπὸ γὰρ ταυτῆς
τὰ ϑεοφανία καὶ τὰ πάσχα καὶ ἡ ἀναλῆψις
καὶ ἡ πεντεκόστη τὴν ἄρχην καὶ τὴν ὑπόϑε-
σιν ἔλαβον. :
δ"άνωϑεν πᾶσι τοῖς ἀπὸ Θρᾷκης μέχρι Ta-
δείρων οἰκοῦσι καταδῆλος καὶ ἐπισῆμος γέγονε.
Though this assertion cannot pass for a
credible historical testimony, yet it is some-
thing in favor of the supposition, that the
festival existed from early times in many
countries of the West.
310 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
determination of the time: hence, Chrysostom labored only to show that
the true time was determined.
He appeals, in the first place, to the rapid and general reception of
the festival, to its authority increasing every year, as evidence that the
time had been rightly assumed; applying here the well-known remark
of Gamaliel. But it is plain that in the settling of a date this argu-
ment can decide nothing ; although there is certamly good reason for’
supposing that the natural propriety of such a festival, its entire accord-
ance with the feelings which glowed in every Christian breast, pro-
moted its reception on its own account, and created a general belief
that the true time for it had been rightly determined. Next,-he ap-
peals to the precise time, preserved in the Roman archives, of the cen-
sus of the Procurator Quirinus. On this point it is possible he may
have been deceived by false reports; or perhaps, at Rome itself, cer-
tain apocryphal records had been allowed to pass as genuine. In other
homilies, also, written towards the close of the fourth century, by Greek
fathers, who notice this festival as. one which Christians very generally
observed, there are nevertheless marks of its comparatively recent in-
troduction.1
On account of this more recent introduction of the Christmas festival
from the West into the Kast, the Christians in many countries of the
East preferred, instead of adopting a festival altogether new, to unite
the commemoration of Christ’s nativity with the ancient feast of the
Epiphany. Thus it was at Jerusalem, and in the Alexandrian church.
And it was attempted to justify this simultaneous celebration on the
authority of Luke 3: 23, from which passage it was inferred that the
baptism of Christ took place on the very day of his nativity.?
Hence
again it was, that, in many of the Greek churches where, from the ear-
1 Tt seems to be the wish of Gregory of
Nyssa to defend the authority of this festi-
val against those who were not disposed to
place it on the same level with the ancient
principal feasts, which commemorated the
passion, the resurrection, and the ascension
of Christ, when he savs, (Hom. in natalem
Christi, T. 11. ed. Paris, 1638, ἢ, 352:)
Μηδείς TO κατὰ τὸ πάσχα μυστηρίῳ μόνην
τὴν τοιαύτην εὐχαριστίαν πρέπειν ὑπονοείτω,
and therefore endeavors to show, like Chry-
sostom, that that which constituted the ob-
ject of this festival was presupposed by
everything else Christ had wrought for the
salvation of mankind. So ina homily, as-
cribed incorrectly to Basil of Czesarea, (Τ᾿
II. opp. ed. Garnier, f. 602, § 6,) it is said:
Οὐδείς ἀσυντέλης. (let there be no one but
what contributes something to the general
joy,) οὐδείς ἀχρίστος, φϑεγξώμεϑα τίνα Kal
ἡμεῖς φώνην ἀγαλλιάσεως. ὁνομα ϑώμεϑα τῇ
ἑορτῇ ἡμῶν δεοφανία, ---- from which passage
we may infer, perhaps, that in the country’
where this was said, not even the old Epiph-
any festival of the Syrian church was as
yet introduced ; since, were it otherwise, its
name would hardly have been transferred to-
the new feast of Christ’s nativity.
2 See Cosmas Indicopleust. topographia’
Christiana in Montfancon, collectio nova
patrum, T. II. 1. V. f. 194; Cassian Collat.
10, ¢. II. respecting the simultaneous cele-
bration of these festivals by the Egyptians.
This custom of the Alexandrian church
must have been altered, it is trne, at a later
period; for in a homily delivered at Alex-
andria, in the year 432, by Paulus, bishop
of Emisa in Phoenicia, we find the feast of
Christ’s nativity described as an indepen-
dent feast by itself. According to the title,
this festival was held on the 29th of the
Egyptian month Choyac, which answers to
the 25th of December. See acta concilii
Ephesini pars IV. Harduini Concil. T. I.
f. 1694. It might be, that the intimate con-
nection of the Alexandrian church with the
Roman in the time of Cyril; the posture
of opposition in which the former stood at
that time to the- churches of Eastern Asia;
the dogmatical interest in the polemics
waged against the Antiochian type of doc-
trine, — all this contributed to bring about
the change.
CHRISTMAS. 811
~ jiest times, neither of the two feasts had been observed, and where the
feast of Christ’s nativity was now introduced because it appeared the
more important of the two, the name Hpiphany or Theophany was trans-
ferred to the latter.
But to explain how the Christmas festival came to be observed first
in the Roman church, and to pass from this to the other churches ; and
how the time for its observance came to be transferred to this particular
date of the 25th December; certain antagonistic tendencies were re-
ferred to, growing out of the peculiar circumstances of the Roman
church, of which mention is already made in older writings.”
Precisely in this season of the year, a series of heathen festivals oc-
curred, the celebration of which among the Romans was, in many ways,
closely interwoven with the whole civil and social life. The Christians,
on this very account, were often exposed to be led astray into many of
the customs and solemnities peculiar to these festivals. Besides, these
festivals had an import which easily admitted of being spiritualized, and
with some slight change transformed into a Christian sense. First came
the satwrnalia, which represented the peaceful times of the golden age,
and abolished for a while the distinction of ranks, the distance between
servants and free men. ‘This admitted of being easily transferred to
Christianity, which, through the reconciliation of man with God, through
the restoration of the fellowship between God and man, had intro-
duced the true golden age, representing the equality of all men in the
sight of God, and brought the like true liberty as well to the freeman
as to the slave. Then came the custom, peculiar to this season, of
making presents, (the strene,)? which afterwards passed over to the
Christmas festival ; next, the festival of infants, with which the satur-
nalia concluded,— the sigillaria, where the children were presented
with images ;4 just as Christmas was the true festival of the children.
Next came a festival still more analogous to the Christmas, that of the
shortest day, the winter solstice ; the birth-day of the new sun about
to return once more towards the earth (dies natalis invicti solis.)? In
1 So in the passage above cited from the
sermon extant under the name of Basil,
and in the expositio fidei of Epiphanius:
Ἡμέρα τῶν ἐπιφανίων͵ ὁτὲ ἐγεννήϑη ἐν σάρκι
ὁ κυρίος. Jerome disputed the propriety of
this use of the term Lpiphania. in his Com-
mentary on Ezekiel, 6. 1: Epiphaniorum
dies non, ut quidam putant, natalis in carne,
tum enim absconditus est et non apparuit.
2 The account of Johannes, bishop of
Nice, in Combefis. auctarium bibliothecze
patrum novissimum, Paris, 1648, T. II., and
with supplementary additions in the edition
of the patres apostolici, by Coteler. T. I.
313, is from too late a period, and too fabu-
lous, to possess any historical importance
whatever.
3 The participation in the customs of this
pagan festival, as well as the mutual send-
ing of presents, were practices for which
the Christians were already reprimanded by
Tertullian.
4 Macrob, Saturnal. 1. 1. c. XT. que lusum
reptanti adhuc infantie oscillis fictilibus
preebent.
5 The Manichean Faustus actually brings
it as a charge against the Christians of the
Catholic church, that they celebrated the
solstitia with the Pagans : Solennes gentium
dies cum ipsis celebratis, ut kalendas et
solstitia. See Augustin. 1. 20, ο. Faustum.
The Roman bishop, Leo the Great, com-
plains that many Christians had retained
the pagan custom of paying obeisance from
some lofty eminence to the rising sun; so
too, when in the morning they were ascend-
ing the steps of St. Peter’s church. Leo,
p. 26, c. 4. The second council of Trulla,
or quinisextum, 691, were still under the
necessity of forbidding the Christians to
take any part in the celebration of the Bru-
malia. \ Now if it was the ease that the re-
mains of heathen customs still existed
among the Grecks, at @ time when Pa-
312 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP
the case of this last-named feast, a transition to the Christian point of
view naturally presented itself, when Christ, the sun of the spiritual
world, was compared with that of the material. But the comparison
was carried still further; for, as in the material world, it is after the
darkness has reached its highest point that the end of its dominion is
already near, and the light begins to acquire fresh power ; so, too, in the
spiritual world, after the darkness had reached its utmost height, Christ,
the spiritual sun, must appear, to make an end of the kingdom of dark-
ness. In fact, many allusions of this kind are to be found in the dis-
courses of the church fathers on the festival of Christmas.1
That Christian festival which could be so easily connected with the feel-
ings and presentiments lying at the ground of the whole series of pagan
festivals belonging to this season, was now, therefore, to be opposed to
these latter; and hence the celcbration of Christmas was transferred
to the 25th of December, for the purpose of drawing away the Christ-
ian people from all participation in the heathen festivals, and of gradu-
ally drawing over the Pagans themselves from their heathen customs to
the Christian celebration. This view of the matter seems to be particu-
larly favored in a New Year’s discourse by Maximius, bishop of Turin,
near the close of the fourth century, where he recognizes a special di-
vine providence in appointing the birth of Christ to take place in the
midst of the pagan festivals ; so that men might be led to feel ashamed
of pagan superstition and pagan excesses.”
But these allusions to the series of heathen festivals happening in
this season of the year, furnish, however, no decisive evidence that the
Christian festival was instituted on this account generally, or that it was
transferred to this particular time for the purpose of being opposed to
the pagan celebrations. In fact, the resorting to this means for draw-
ing away men from the pagan superstitions, was a very hazardous ex-
periment, which might easily lead men to confound Christianity with
Heathenism, and to lose out of sight the true import of the Christian
festival. Of this, indeed, Leo the Great found it necessary to give
warning.® Yet we must allow, that, from the unsuitableness of the
(p. 25, § 1,) says, that this day, more than
ganism had already almost wholly vanished,
any other, presents, by the new light beam-
much more must this have been the case
among the Roman Christians in the earlier
centuries.
1 Thus says Gregory of Nyssa, in his
sermon on this festival, T. III. f. 340. — It
was not a-matter of chance that Christ’s
nativity took place at this season, ἔν ἡ jel-
οὔσϑαι τὸ σκότος ἄρχεται Kal Td τῆς νυκτὸς
“ μέτρα τῷ πλεοναζόντι τῆς ἀκτῖνος συνωϑεῖται
πρὸς ἐκλείψιν' μυστῆριον τι διὰ τῶν φαινομέ-
νων τοῖς διορατικωτέροις διηγεῖται ἡ κτίσις.
Augustin. p.190,§ 1. ‘“ Since the infidelity
which covered the whole world like a night,
was to diminish, while faith increased ; for
this reason, on the nativity of the Lord Jesus
Christ, the night begins to grow less, and
the day to increase. Let us, then, celebrate
this festival, not like the unbelievers, on ac-
count of this sun, but on account of the
Creator of this sun.” So, too, Leo the Great,
ing forth even in the elements, an image of
this wonderful birth.
2 Maximus Taurinens. H. V. in Kal. Jan.
bibl. patr. Galland. T. LX. f. 353. Bene
quodammodo Deo providente dispositum,
ut inter medias gentilium festivitates Chris-
tus Dominus oriretur et inter ipsas tenebro-
sas superstitiones errorum veri luminis
splendor effulgeret, ut perspicientes homi-
nes in vanis superstitionibus suis pure di-
vinitatis emicuisse justitiam, preeterita obli-
viscerentur sacrilegia, futura non colerent.
8 P. 21, ο. 6. Diabolus illudens simpli-
cioribus animis de quorundam persuasione
pestifera, quibus heec dies sollennitatis nos-
tree non tam de nativitate Christi, quam de
novi, ut dicunt, solis ortu honorabilis videa-
tur.
CHRISTMAS. 313
means, it in nowise follows that such a means was not then resorted
to. Easily might it happen, that, with their eyes intently fixed on the
single object proposed, men might overlook the evil naturally connected
with it. In a later period, such a mode of proceeding would be no
matter of surprise. But it may be questioned whether we could
‘ rightly presume it of the period to which, according to what has been
said, the origin of the Christmas festival must be referred. We can hardly
separate the origin of this festival, considered by itself, from the particular
designation of its time ; for it can hardly be conceived, that, after a
tradition had once obtained credit respecting the day of Christ’s nativity,
and after the festival of Christmas had been fixed on this day, the spe-
cific time would be altered out of regard to the festivals of the Pagans.
Yet it should be remarked, in general, that the accommodation of Christ-
ian to pagan institutions proceeded, in most cases, from the side of the
people ; the church-teachers resisted, at first, the intermingling of pa-
gan customs with Christian ; afterwards they gave way, or were them-
selves carried along by the spirit of the times. Individual exceptions,
it is true, are to be met with; yet in no point which could be compared
with the institution of such a principal festival, and which reached back
to so early a period as the origin. of Christmas. Originally, the prevailing
mode of procedure, in the Western church, was by no means to con-
_nect the celebration of Christian festivals with pagan; but rather to
set over against the pagan festivals, days of fasting and penitence.’ The
passage of Faustus, in which Christians of the Catholic church are ac-
cused of taking part in the festivities of Paganism, (see above,) seems,
it is true, at first glance, to confirm the conjecture above mentioned ;
but, on closer examination, it will be found rather opposed to it. Faus-
tus accuses the Christians, first, of merely changing’ the heathen into a
Christian superstition ; for example, substituting the worship of the mar-
tyrs in place of the worship of idols ; 5. and secondly, of imitating, with-
out any change, heathen festivities, as heathen ;— and here he names
the kalende and the solstitia. Now, with regard to the first of these
charges, we know certainly —a fact presently to be mentioned — that
the church never had anything to do with those pagan festivities, but
constantly expressed the warmest opposition to all participation in them.
The same would be true, therefore, of the celebration of the solstitia,
since this belonged in the same category with the rest. But if Faustus
had had any ground whatever for accusing the Christians of altering
the pagan celebration of the solstitia into a seeming Christian celebra-
tion of the nativity,? it is the less to be supposed that he would have
omitted to bring such an accusation against them, as the feast of Christ’s
nativity must have been particularly disagreeable to him as a Manicha-
an, who looked upon the birth of Christ in the flesh as a sorry super-
stition. -
1 Leo the Great cites it, in his VII. Ser- prised alms and fasts, which were not al
mo, as an old tradition, ut quoties coecitas lowable on the principal festivals) instaret.
paganorum in superstitionibus esset inten- 2 Tdola eorum vertistis in Martyres, to
tior, tunc precipue populus Dei orationibus which passage we shall again revert on 8
et operibus pietatis (under which he com- future occasion.
VOL. II. 27
914 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
And what necessity is there, in truth, of searching for outward causes
to account for a fact which, as we have already remarked, explains itself,
as growing out of the inner development of the Christian life? As it
respects, however, the specific time of the 25th of December, designated
for the festival of Christmas, it should not be forgotten, that, in the
earlier ages, there were several different determinations of the day of
Christ’s nativity ; and we might, with the same good reason, repéat
the question with regard to each one of these, — How was this ascer-
tained? It is very probable that, in the Roman church, this point was
settled by the authority of some historical tradition, founded on apocry-
phal records. Now it is very possible, we may admit, that, allowing the
existence of such an apocryphal tradition, it might have been helped
along — not indeed by any design of imitating or rivaling the pagan
ceremonies, but quite independently of these — by the mystical inter-
pretation given to that season of the year.!
We find that it was originally a principle with teachers and govern-
ors of the church to resist the tendency, among the multitude, to con-
found pagan rites with Christian. We see this particularly illustrated
in the case of the New-Year’s festival, the Kalende Januarie, The
celebration of this grandest of the Roman festivals, which began with
the end of December and lasted several days, was, more than that of
any other, interwoven with the whole public and private life of the Ro-
mans ; with all civil, social, and domestic arrangements, manners, and cus-
toms. It was, in fact, the commencement of the civil year, according to
which all sorts of business had to be adjusted and arranged. It was the
time when the magistrates entered upon their several offices. It was there-
fore the ordinary season of congratulations, when presents were mutually
given and received. Tertullian already found reason to complain that
Christians participated in all these customs. In defence of this participa-
tion it could ever be alleged, as it was still alleged by many in the begin-
ning of the fifth century, that this whole festival was in truth of a purely
civil nature, having no necessary connection with religion, and that it
might be jomed in, therefore, without the least danger to the faith.2 But
with this celebration were united customs standing directly at variance
with the principles of the Christian faith and the rules of Christian con-
duct—riotous excesses, abandoned revelry, and various kinds of heathen
superstition, which sought, by means of omens and the arts of divina-
tion, to unveil the destinies of the whole year. The first day was
spent by many of the Pagans in an unrestrained indulgence of sensual
‘enjoyments, under the persuasion that such a beginning would be fol-
- lowed by a corresponding year of pleasure.? It is manifest what a
corrupting influence this contagious example of pagan immorality and
1 How easily the determination of chro- month therefore to January, the author con-
nelogical questions of this sort might pro-
ceed from mystical interpretations of scrip-
ture texts, may be seen, e. g. by consulting
Hieronym. in Ezechiel. ο. I. V. 1, where, on
the principle that the first month of the
civil year of the Jews must nearly corres-
pond to the month of October, the fourth
cludes that the baptism of Jesus, on the
fifth of January, is here typified.
ὦ Petrus Chrysologus, p. 155. Esse no-
Vitatis leetitiam, non vetustatis errorem,
anni principium, non gentilitatis offensam.
® See Liban. ἐκφράσις Καλένδων. Chry-
sost. Homil. Kalend.
CELEBRATION OF NEW YEAR’S DAY. 818
superstition would exert on the Christian life: indeed, the Christian
teachers were often forced to complain of it in their homilies! Yet
even in this case, the pagan festival could have been converted into a
Christian one, having no connection with the pagan in religion, by simply
_ giving to the commencement of the civil year a Christian import, on
the principle that every change and new beginning in earthly things
should be sanctified by religion. Thus the commencement of the year,
as it was to be regarded from the Christian point of view, would be
most appropriately opposed to the pagan celebration of the day. Such
considerations are to be met with; for instance, in Chrysostom’s dis-
course on the commencement of the new year. But to no one does
the obvious thought seem to have occurred, of converting the civil ob-
servance wholly mto an ecclesiastical one: for this thought lay too
remote from the original Christian point of view, conformably to which
all festivals were referred exclusively to the momentous facts connected
with man’s salvation, and had their origin in a purely religious interest ;
while, at the same time, there was a strong reluctance to fall in with
the pagan custom of celebrating the commencement of the year with
religious observances. It would have been nearer the Christian point
of view, to separate the ecclesiastical year from the civil, and to make
the year begin either with Easter or the Christmas festival.? It was
only to oppose a counter influence to the pagan celebration, that Christ-
ian assemblies were finally held on the first day of January ; and they
were designed to protect Christians against the contagious influence
of pagan debauchery and superstition. Thus when Augustin had as-
sembled his church, on one of these occasions, he first caused to be sung
the words, “" Save us, O Lord our God! and gather,us from among the
heathen!’ Ps. 106 : 47; and hence he took occasion to remind his
flock of their duty, especially on this day, to show, that as they had, in
truth, been gathered from among the Heathen ; to exhibit in their life
the contrast between the Christian and the heathen temper; to substitute
alms for New-Year’s gifts, (the Strenz,) edification from scripture for
merry songs, and fasts for riotous feasting. This principle was gradually
adopted in the practice of the Western church, and three days of peni-
tence and fasting opposed to the pagan celebration of January,’ until,
the time being designated, the festival of Christ’s circumcision was
transferred to this season; when a Jewish rite was opposed to the
pagan observances, and its reference to the circumcision of the heart by
repentance, to heathen revelry.
1 See the homilies of Asterius of Ama-
sea, of Maximus of Turin, of Chrysostom,
Augustin, Leo the Great.
2 With the Easter festival, since the res-
urrection of Christ was the beginning of a
new creation, and the spiritual spring might
be associated with the spring of nature.
With the Christmas festival, since the na-
tivity of Christ was the beginning of his
life, which laid the foundation for man’s sal-
vation, and the festival was the one from
which all the others proceeded.
8 See Isidor. 1. I. ce. 40, de officiis and
Concil. Turonense II. A.D. 567,.¢. 17. Tri-
duum illud, quo, ad calcandum gentilium
consuetudinem, patres nostri statuerunt pri-
vatas in Kalendis Januariis fieri litanias, ut
in ecclesiis psallatur, et hora octava in Ipsis
Kalendis circumcisionis missa Deo propitio
celebretur. It may be a question, whether
the latter refers to the circumcisio cordis, or
already to the memoria circumcisionis
Christi.
816 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
Besides these festivals, should be mentioned also the days consecrat-
ed to the memory of holy men, who had endeared themselves to the
church as teachers, or as martyrs to the faith. Of these we shall speak
more particularly hereafter. We now pass to consider the particular
acts of Christian worship.
4. Particular Acts of Christian Worship.
The principal acts of Christian worship, respecting the origin of which
we spoke in the preceding period, continued to be observed also in the
present. ΤῸ this class belongs first the reading of the holy scriptures.
We have already spoken of the important influence which the reading
of large portions of the sacred scriptures had on the church life of this
period. At the beginning, it was left for each bishop to appoint such
portions of the Bible as he chose, to be read at each meeting of the
church. The historical and practical allusions to the above-mentioned
parts in the cycle of Christian festivals, first led to the practice of
selecting certam portions of scripture with reference to the principal
feasts; and this practice was gradually converted, by tradition, into a
standing rule.!
As to the relation of the sermon to the whole office of worship, this is
@ point on which we meet with the most opposite errors of judgment.
Some, who looked upon the clergy as only offering priests, and who con-
sidered the main part of Christian worship te consist in the magical effects
of the priestly services, were hence inclined greatly to overvalue the
liturgical, and wholly to overlook the necessity of the didactic element
of worship. ‘The gift of teaching they regarded as something foreign
from the spiritual office, as they supposed the Holy Ghost, imparted to
the priest by ordination, could be transmitted to others only by his
sensible mediation. Others, however, and on account of the rhetorical
style of culture which prevailed among the higher classes in the large
cities of the East,— this was especially the case in the Greek church —
gave undue importance to the didactic and rhetorical part of worship ;
and did not attach importance enough to the essentials of Christian fel-
lowship, and of common edification and devotion. Hence the church
would be thronged when some famous speaker was to be heard; but
only a few remained behind when the sermon was ended and the church-
‘liz esse non possint.
1 What Aucustin says in the prologue to
his homilies on the first epistle of John,
may serve as a proof: Solennitas sanctorum
dierum, quibus certas ex evangelio lectiones
oportet recitari, que ita sunt annue, ut
Thus, in Easter
week, the history of Christ’s resurrection
was read in turn from all the gospels. See
Augustin, p. 231 and 39. Chrysostom, in
Hom. IV. in principio actorum, T. III. f. 85,
says, the fathers had introduced such ap-
portionments of scripture to particular
times, not for the sake of abridging Chris-
tian liberty, (οὐκ iva ὑπὸ ἀνάγκης Kaipwr
τὴν ἐλευϑερίαν ἡμῖν ὑποβώλωσιν.) but out of
condescension to the necessities of the
weak. But the natural propensity of men
to bind themselves to forms once sanctioned
by use, was shown also in the present case.
In the African church it was customary to
read, on Good Friday, the history of the
passion from Matthew. When Augustin,
to give his church a more varied and full
knowledge of the history of the passion,
proposed to read the different gospels year-
ly, in turn, and on a certain Good Friday
caused the portion to be read from another
gospel, disturbances arose ; for many were
disappointed not to hear what they had
been accustomed to: Volueram aliquando,
ut per singulos annos secundum omnes
evangelistas etiam passio legeretur. Factum
est, non audierunt homines quod consueve-
rant, et perturbati sunt. P. 232, § 1
THE SERMON. 317
prayers followed. ‘The sermons,” said they, “we can hear no-
where but at church ; but we can pray just as well at home.” 1 Against
this abuse Chrysostom had frequent occasion to speak, in his discourses
preached at Antioch and Constantinople. Hence, too, without regard
to the essential character of the church, a style borrowed from the
theatre or the lecture-rooms of declaimers was introduced into the
church assemblies ; as these were frequented for the purpose of hearing
some orator, celebrated for his elegant language, or his power of pro-
ducing a momentary effect on the imagination or the feelings. Hence
the custom of interrupting such speakers, at their more striking or im-
pressive passages, with noisy testimonials of approbation (xpéroc.) Vain
ecclesiastics, men whose hearts were not full of the holy cause they
professed, made it the chief or- only aim of their discourses to secure
the applause of such hearers ; and hence labored solely to display their
brilliant eloquence or wit, to say something with point and effect. But
many of the better class too, such men as Gregory of Nazianzen, could
not wholly overcome the vanity which this custom tended to foster, and
thus fell into the mistake of being too rhetorical in their sermons.2 Men
of holy seriousness, like Chrysostom, strongly rebuked this declamatory
and theatrical style,? and said that, through such vanity, the whole
Christian cause would come to be suspected by the Heathens.
Many short-hand writers eagerly employed themselves in taking down,
on the spot, the discourses of famous speakers, in order to give them a
wider circulation. The sermons were sometimes—though rarely— read
off entirely from notes, or committed to memory ; sometimes they were _
freely delivered, after a plan prepared beforehand ; and sometimes
they were altogether extemporary. The last we, learn incidentally,
from being informed that Augustin was occasionally directed to the
choice of a subject by the passage which the “ preelector”’ had selected for
reading ; when, he tells us, he was sometimes urged by some impres-
sion of the moment, to give his sermon a different turn from what he had
origina!ly proposed.® We are also informed by Chrysostom, that his
subject was frequently suggested to him by something he met with on
his way to church, or which suddenly occurred during divine service.®
Church music was cultivated, in this period, more according to rule.
1 See Chrysostom. I. III. de Incompre- fat. to his Sermones. Hence the different
hensib. § 6, T. 1. 469.
2 Gregory of Nazianzen says himself, in
his farewell discourse at Constantinople:
Κροτήσατε χείρας, ὀξὺ βοήσατε, ἀράτε εἰς
ὕψος τὸν ῥήτορα ὑμῶν.
8 Thus on one occasion he says: “ This
is no theatre; you are not sitting here as
spectators of comedians.”. Οὐδὲ γὰρ ϑεά-
Tpov ἔστι τὰ παρόντα, οὐ τραγῳδοὺς καϑῆσϑε
ϑεώμενοι viv. In Matth. H. 17, § 7.
* Hence Gregory of Nazianzen, in his
farewell discourse, preached at Constantino-
le, says: Xaipere γράφιδες φανέραι καὶ
νϑανοῦσαι. Hence the complaint of
Gaudentius of Brescia, that his sermons
had been inaccurately transcribed by note-
takers, who sat out of sight. Sce the Pre-
VOL. II. at
recensions we have of so many of the an-
cient homilies.
5 Augustin. in Psalm. 138, § 1. Malni-
mus nos in errore lectoris sequi voluntatem
Dei, quam nostram in nostro proposito.
6 See the sermon of Chrysostom, of
which the theme was chosen on his way te
church, when he saw, in the winter time,
lying in the vicinity of the church, many
sick persons and beggars, and, touched with
pity. felt constrained to exhort his hearers
to works of brotherly kindness and charity.
T. III. opp. ed. Montf. f. 248. Compare
also the turn which he gave to his discourse
in a certain sermon, when the lighting of
the lamps drew away the attention of his
hearers. See T. IV. f. 662
818 CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. PSALMODY.
In connection with the “ przelectors,” 1 were appointed church-choristers,
who sung sometimes alone, sometimes interchangeably with the choirs of
the con sregation. It was considered very important that the whole
church should take part in the psalmody.?
Besides the Psalms, which had been used from the earliest times, and
the short doxologies ‘and hymns consisting of verses from the holy
scriptures, spiritual songs composed by distinguished church-teachers,
such as Ambrose of Milan and Hilary of Poictiers, were also introduced
among the pieces used for public worship in the Western church. To
the last-named practice, much opposition, it is true, was expressed. It
was demanded that, in conformity with the ancient usage, nothing should
be used in the music of public worship, but what was taken from the
sacred scriptures. And as sectaries and heretical parties often had
recourse to church psalmody, as a means for giving spread to their own
peculiar religious opimions, all those songs which had not been for a
long time in use in the church, were particularly liable to suspicion.*
It must already have become a matter of complaint, however, as well
in the Western as in the Greek church, that the ecclesiastical music
had taken too artificial and theatrical a direction, and departed from its
ancient simplicity ; for we find the Egyptian abbot Pambo, in the fourth
century, inveighing against the introduction of heathen melodies into
church psalmody,* and the abbot Isidore of Pelusium. complaming
of the theatrical style of smging, particularly among the women, which,
instead of exciting emotions of penitence, served rather to awaken sin-
ful passions ;> and Jerome, in remarking on the words of the apostle
Paul, in Ephes. ὃ : 19,5 says, “" Let our youth hear this; let those hear
1 Ψψάλται, cantores, who, like the Lectores,
were taken from the younger clergy.
3 In the fifteenth canon of the council of
Laodicea, it was ordered, that no others be-
sides the regularly appointed church can-
tors should sing in divine service, (=epi τοῦ
μὴ, δεῖν πλέον τῶν κανονίκων ban: των τῶν
ἐπὶ τὸν ἀμιβώνα ἀναβαινόντων καὶ ἀπὸ διῤϑέ-
ρας, (the church song-books,) ψαλλόντων
ἑτέρους τίνας ψάλλειν ἐν ἐκκλησία.) But this
hardly to be understood as meaning that
the participation of the congregation in the
charch music was to be wholly excluded.
At least, if this were the ease. it must be
regarded as a temporary and provincial
regulation; and it would be in direct con-
tradiction to the usage of the Eastern
eharch, in which the distinguished church-
, teachers, such as Basil of Caesarea and
Chrysostom, expended much labor in im-
proving the style of church music. Most
probably this canon is to be understood in
the sense, that none but persons of the cler-
ical order should hold the post of professed
chureh-singers, so that the singing of the
congrezation was to be regarded as a wholly
independent thing.
3 See Concil. Laodicen. c. 59. ‘Ori οὐ
δεῖ ἰδιωτίκους ψάλμους λέγεσϑαι ἐν τῇ ἐκκλη-
σίᾳ. The first council of Braga. in the
year 561, c. 12, against the Priscillianists,
directed, ut extra psalmos vel scripturas
canonicas nihil poétice compositum in ec-
clesia psallatur. On the other hand, the
fourth council of Toledo, A.D. 633, ε. 13,
defended the use of such sacred hymns as
were composed by Hilary and Ambrose.
Even the ancient hymns and doxologies,
taken from scripture, were not, they said,
wholly free from human additions. As
prayers and liturgical forms of human com-
position were used in divine service, the
same use might be made also of sacred
hymns indited by men.
ΓΕ See the conference of the abbot Pambo
with his disciples, on the too artificial church
music of Alexandria, in imitation of the
heathen melodies, (κανόνες καὶ τροπάρια.)
“ The monks,” says he,“ have not retired into
the desert, to sing beautifal melodies, and
move hands and feet : ἢ Μελῷδοῦσιν ἄσματα
καὶ ῥυϑμίζουσιν ἤχους καὶ σείουσι χείρας καὶ
peta3aivove: (βάλλουσι.}) πόδας. See the
Scriptores ecclesiastici de Musica. published
by the abbot Gerbert, T. L 1784, p. 3.
5 Isidor. Pelus. 1. 1. ep. 90. Κατάνυξιν
μὲν ἐκ τ τῶν ϑείων ὕμνων aux ὑπομένουσι, τῇ
δὲ τοῦ μελοὺς ἠδυτῆτι εἰς ἐρεϑίσμον ahd
των χρώμενοι, pidev αὕτην ἔχει» πλέον τῶν
ἐπὶ σκήτης ἀσμάτων λογίζονται.
δ See his Commentar. in ep. Ephes 1. IIL
ce. Y. T. IV. £ 387, ed. Martianay.
THE SACRAMENTS. BAPTISM. 819
it whose office it is to sing in the church. Not with the voice, but
with the heart, must we make melody to the Lord. We are not like
comedians, to smoothe the throat with sweet drinks, in order that we
may hear theatrical songs and melodies in the church: but the fear of
. God, piety, and the knowledge of the scriptures, should inspire our songs ;
so that not the voice of the singer, but the divine matter expressed, may
be the point of attraction ; so that the evil spirit, which entered into the
heart of a Saul, may be expelled from those who are in like manner
possessed by him, rather than invited by those who would turn the
house of God into a heathen theatre.”
We now proceed to consider the administration of the sacraments.
And first, as it respects baptism: it may be remarked that infant
baptism — as we have observed that the fact was already towards the
close of the preceding period — was now generally recognized as an
apostolical institution ; but from the theory on this point, we can draw
no inference with regard to the practice. It was still very far from
being the case, especially in the Greek church, that infant baptism,
although acknowledged to be necessary, was generally introduced into
practice. Partly, the same mistaken notions which arose from con-
founding the thing represented by baptism with the outward rite, and
which afterwards led to the over-valuation of infant baptism, and partly,
the frivolous tone of thinking, the indifference to all higher concerns,
which characterized so many who had only exchanged the pagan for a
Christian outside, — all this together contributed to bring it about, that
among the Christians of the East, infant baptism, though in theory ac- -
knowledged to be necessary, yet entered so rarely and with so much
difficulty into the church life during the first half of this period.
Accustomed to confound regeneration and baptism, believing that they
were bound to connect the grace of baptism with the outward ordinance,
with the performance of the external act; failing to perceive that it
should be something going along with, and operating through, the entire
life ; many pious but mistaken parents dreaded entrusting the baptis-—
mal grace to the weak, unstable age of their children, which grace,
once lost by sin, could never be regained. They wished rather to re-
serve it against the more decided and mature age of manhood, as a
refuge from the temptations and storms of an uncertain life.
To a mother who acted on this principle, says Gregory of Nazian-
zen: ‘Let sin gain no advantage in thy child; let it be sanctified from
the swaddling clothes, consecrated to the Holy Ghost. You fear for
the divine seal, because of the weakness of nature. What a feeble and
faint-hearted mother must you be! Anna consecrated her Samuel to
God, even before he was born; immediately after his birth, she made
him a priest, and she trained him up in the priestly vesture. Instead
of fearing the frailty of the man, she trusted in God!”?! Others, unlike
this mother, were induced, not by an error of the understanding, but by
a delusion springing from an altogether ungodlike temper, to defer
their baptism to a future time. They had formed their conception of God,
1 Orat. 40, f. 648.
920 THE SACRAMENTS. BAPTISM.
of whom they would gladly have been relieved from the necessity of
thinking, only as an almighty judge, whose avenging arm appeared to
their unappeased conscience ready to strike them; and they sought in
baptism a means of evading the stroke, without being willing, however,
to renounce their sinful pleasures. They were disposed to enter into a
sort of compact or bargain with God and Christ,! to be permitted to
enjoy, as long as possible, their sinful pleasures, and yet in the end, by
the ordinance of baptism, which like a charm was to wipe away their
sins, to be purified from all their stains, and attain to blessedness in a
moment.?, Hence many put off baptism, until they were reminded by
mortal sickness, or some other sudden danger, of approaching death.®
Hence it was, that in times of public calamity, in earthquakes, in the
dangers of war, multitudes hurried to baptism, and the number of the
existing clergy scarcely sufficed for the wants of all.4
In the case of many, who first received baptism in the later period
of life, this proceeding was no doubt attended with one advantage, —
that the true import of the baptismal rite might then be more truly ex-
pressed. It was not until after they had been led, by some dispensa-
tion affecting the outward or the inner life, to resolve on becoming
Christians with the whole soul, that they applied for baptism ; and the
ordinance, in this case, was not a mere opus operatum ; but really con-
stituted to them the commencement of a new era of life, truly conse-
crated, in the temper of the heart, to God. Thus it was, that many
made it a point, from the time of their baptism, to enter upon the literal
observance of Christ’s precepts ; they would no longer take an oath ;
and not a few outwardly renounced the world and became monks,
which, at all events, shows what importance they attached to this ordi-
nance. But, on the other hand, the cause of delaying baptism, with
numbers, was their want of any true interest in religion, their being
bred and living along in a medley of pagan and Christian superstitions ;
nor can it be denied, that the neglect of infant baptism contributed to
prolong this sad state of things. By means of baptism, children would
have been immediately introduced into a certain connection with the
church, and at least brought more directly under its influence ; instead
_of being exposed, as they now were, from their birth, to pagan super-
stition, and often kept at a distance, in their first training, from all con-
tact with Christianity. To commend their children to God and to the
Saviour in prayer, was not the custom of parents; but rather to call in
1 They are very justly styled by Gregory
- of Nazianzen, |. ο. ἢ, 643: Χριστοκαπήλους
καὶ χριστέμπορους.
2 Gregory of Nyssa, de baptismo, T. IT.
f. 221, aptly calls it: Καίνη καὶ παράδοξος
ἐμπόρια, ob χρύσου καὶ ἐσϑῆτος, ἄλλα πλη-
ϑοῦς ἀνομίων, καπήλεια περίεργος τῆς κατὰ
ψύχην καϑάρσεως.
8 Πρὸς τὰς ἐσχώτὰς ἀναπτνοὺς τὴν οἰκείαν
ἀναβαλλόμενοι σωτηρίαν. Chrysostom. ἢ.
18, in Joh. § 1.
4 Gregory of Nyssa, in the sermon above
cited, mentions a case, which is said to have
proved to many a warning example. A
young man of a.respectable family in the
town of Comana in Pontus, was fatally
wounded by the Goths, — who had already
taken the suburb, — as he was going out to
reconnoitre. As he fell dying, he hegged
with a cry of despair, for baptism, which at
the moment no one was at hand to bestow
on him. To be sure, if he had been more
correctly taught respecting the nature of
baptism, and of the forgiveness of sin, he
would not have been reduced to such a
strait.
CATECHUMENS. GENUFLECTENTES. 821
‘old women, who were supposed to possess the power of protecting the
life of infants by amulets and other devices of heathen superstition.)
We observed, in the preceding period, that the catechumens were dis-
tributed into two classes. ΤῸ these, at the beginning of the fourth cen-
tury, was added a third. At first a distinction was made, generally,
between those who professed Christianity, though they had not, as yet,
attained to a complete knowledge of the Christian doctrines, nor received
baptism — the catechumens, who were, in the common meaning of the
word, called also Christians,” though in a vaguer sense, — and the fully in-
structed baptized Christians. The lowest class among these constituted
the ἀκροώμενοι, ἀκροαταί, or auditores, audientes, who took this name from
the circumstance that they were admitted to hear only the reading of the
scriptures and the sermon, and then were immediately dismissed.‘
The second class consisted of those who had already received more
full and accurate instruction in Christianity. In behalf of these a special
prayer of the church was offered, and they received, kneeling, the bles-
sing of the bishop: whence their name ὑποπιπτόντες, γονυκλινόντες, Genn-
flectentes, Prostrati; also Catechumens in the stricter sense of the
term. ‘This prayer of the church was so composed and arranged, as to
bring directly before the consciousness of these individuals their need
of being enlightened by the Holy Spirit, without which the divine doe-
trines could not be vitally apprehended, and the necessary connection
between faith and practice; as well as to assure them of the sympathy
of the whole community in all their concerns.° '
1 Chrysostom contrasts the Christian con- "
secration which the child ought to receive
from the first, with the pagan superstition
to which it was immediately exposed: Ta
περίαπτα καὶ τοὺς κωδώνας τοὺς τῆς χειρὸς
ἐξηρτημένους καὶ τὸν κόκκινον στήμονα καὶ
τὰ ἄλλα τὰ πολλῆς ἀνοίας γέμοντα. δέον μῆ-
dev ἔτερον τῷ παίδι περιτιϑέναι ἄλλ᾽ ἢ τὴν
ἀπὸ τοῦ σταυροῦ φυλακήν. Hom. 12, in ep.
I. ad Corinth. § 7.
2 Hence the act of the bishop or presby-
ter, who received those who were not Chris-
tians, as candidates for the Christian church,
into the first class of eatechumens, by mak-
ing over them the sign of the cross: Ποιεῖν
χριστιανούς. Concil. cecum. Constantinop.
Ic. 7. Ποιεῖν χριστιανόν.
8 The distinction Christiani ac βάρ] 65,
and Christiani et catechumeni. Cod. The-
odos. de apostat. 1. 2.
4 Some have supposed, that there was a
still lower class, those who were not as yet
permitted to attend the meetings of the
church, the ἐξωϑούμενοι. But as this attend-
ance was allowed even to Pagans and Jews,
it is scarcely possible to suppose that a class
of catechumens were particularly designa-
ted by a name which signified their present
exclusion. Neither would the term ἐξωϑού-
μενοι, denoting, as it does, not the fact that
persons have not yet been received, but that
those once received have been excluded, he
suited to the case in question. The V.
canon of the council of Neocesarea (in ©
which it was simply ordered that those
ἀκροαταί who had, fallen into any sin ren-
dering them unworthy of the Christian
name, inasmuch as they could not be trans-
ferred to a lower class of catechumens,
should be wholly excluded from the list,)
furnishes no warrant for the hypothesis of a
particular class of excluded persons among .
the catechumens: on the contrary, the
canon here speaks of such as were no longer
to be considered as belonging to the cate-
chumens in any sense.
5 As an example of the manner in which
the Christian feeling expressed itself in
these prayers, we will insert here the form
of this prayer according to the liturgy of
the ancient church of Antioch: “ That the
all-merciful God would hear their prayer,
that he would open the ears of their hearts,
so that they might perceive what eye hath
not seen nor ear heard; that he would in-
struct them in the word of truth; that he
would plant the fear of the Lord in their
hearts, and confirm the faith in his truth in
their souls; that he would reveal to them
the gospel of righteousness; that he would
bestow on them a godly temper of mind, a
prudent understanding, and an upright and
virtuous walk, so that they might at all
times meditate and practise what is of God,
might dwell in the law of the Lord day and
night; that he would deliver them from all
322 THE SACRAMENTS. COMPETENTES.
On leaving this class; they next took their place among those who
proposed themselves for baptism, the baptismal candidates,! the Compe-
tentes,” φωτιζόμενο, They learned by heart the confession of faith, since
this was to be orally transmitted, as written on the living tablets of the
heart, and not in a dead, outward letter (see vol. I. sect. 3, p. 808 :)
and this confession, as containing the sum and essence of Christian doc-
trine, was explained to them by the lectures of the bishop or the pres-
byter. ‘To the symbolical usages connected with the preparation for
baptism, of which we have spoken in the preceding period, new ones
were added, yet not the same in all the churches. It seems to have
been a custom which very generally prevailed, for the candidates, until
the time they were incorporated, on the octave of the festival of Easter,
by the complete rite of baptism, (in the Western church, see above,)
with the rest of the church, to‘wear a veil on the head and over the
face, which perhaps was meant, in the first place, as it is explained by
Cyrill of Jerusalem, to serve as a symbol, expressing that the attention
should not be diverted by foreign objects; afterwards, on the ground
of St. Paul’s declaration in the first epistle to the Corinthians, the ad-
ditional meaning was given to it, that, as the act of veiling was a sign
of dependence and of tutelage, so the removing of the veil was a sign
of freedom and of maturity conceded to them as regenerated persons.3
To exorcism was now added insufflation, or breathing on the candi-
date, (ἐμφυσᾷν, insufflare, ) to denote the communication of the Holy Ghost,
as the former had denoted deliverance from unclean spirits. The
bishop next touched the ear of the candidate, saying, in the words of
Mark 7: 34, ‘ Ephphatha, Be opened, and may God send thee an
open understanding, that thou mayst be apt to learn and to answer.” 4
In the North-African church, the bishop gave to those whom he re-
evil, from all devilish sins, and from all 1 Their names were inscribed for. this.
temptations of the evil one; that he would
vouchsafe to them, in his own time. the
new birth, the forgiveness of sins, the in-
vestiture of the new, imperishable, divine
life, (ἔνδυμα τῆς ἀφϑαρσίας. See sect. 3,
and below, the doctrine concerning bap-
tism ;) that he would bless their coming in
and their going out, their families, their do-
mestics ; that he would multiply their chil-
dren, bless them, preserve them to the
ripeness of age, and make them wise; that
he would cause all things that awaited them
to work together for their good.” The dea-
con then bade the catechumens, who had
remained kneeling during this prayer, to
arise, and invited them to pray themselves,
“for the angel of peace, for peace upon all
that awaited them, peace on the present
days, and on all the days of their life; and
for a Christian end.” He concluded by
saying: “Commend yourselves to the liv-
ing God and to his Christ.” They then
received the blessing from: the bishop, in
which the whole community joined by say-
ing, Amen. See Chrysostom, in epist. II.
ad Corinth. Hom. II. § 5.
purpose in the church books, the diptycha,
the matricula eeclesiz; which was: nomen
dare baptismo. The ὀνοματογραφία is men-
tioned in Cyrill’s prologue to his Catecheses,
§ 1; and to this the mystical exposition of
Gregory of Nyssa alludes, de baptismo,
T. II. f. 216, where he says, “that, as he
inscribed the names with ink in the earthly
roll, so might the finger of God write them
down in his imperishable book:” Δοτέ μοι
τὰ ὀνόματα, ἱνὰ ἔγω μὲν αὔτα ταῖς αἰσϑῆταις
ἐγχαράξω βίβλοις, Τὰ the fifth act of the
council under Mennas, A.D. 536, a deacon
occurs, Ὁ τὰς προσηγορίας τῶν εἰς τὸ βαπτίσ-
μα προσιόντων ἐγγράφειν τεταγμένος.
2 Simul petentes regnum cceelorum. Au-
gustin..p. 216.
8 Cyrill. Prolog. ο. V: ᾿Εσκεπώσται σοῦ
τὸ προσώπον, iva σχολασῃ λοίπον ἡ διανοία.
Augustin. p: 876, § 2. Hodie octave dicun-
tur infantium, revelanda sunt capita eorum,
quod est indicium libertatis.
4 The sacramentum apertionis.. Ambros.
de iis qui mysteriis initiantur, c. 1. See the
work ascribed to him, de sacramentis, 1. I
c. 1.
4
CHRISM. CONFIRMATION. 323
ceived as competentes, while signing the cross over them as a symbol
of consecration, a portion of salt, over which a blessing had been pro-
nounced. ‘This was to signify the divine word imparted to the candi-
dates as the true salt four human nature.1 When the baptism was to be
performed, the candidate was led to the entrance of the baptistery,
where he first stood with his face towards the West, as a symbol of the
darkness which he was now to renounce, and pronounced, addressing
Satan as present, the formula of renunciation, the origin and meaning
of which were explained under the preceding period: ‘I renounce thee,
Satan ; all thy works, all thy pomp, and all thy service.” Next he
turned to the East, as a symbol of the light into which he would now
om τὰς the darkness, and said: ‘To thee, O Christ! I devote my-
self.’
We noticed as existing already in the preceding period the custom
of anointing at baptism.* In this period, when there was an inclination
to multiply symbols, the custom arose of a double unction; one as a
preliminary rite, denoting the consecration to be imparted to the be-
liever by his fellowship with Christ, whereby he was to be delivered
from the sins of the old man, the putting away of whom had just been
symbolized by the laying aside of the garments.® The second unction,
with the consecrated oil, (the xpicua,) the same symbolical act which we
found existing already in the preceding period, denoted the completion
of baptism by a perfect communion of divine life with the Redeemer, —
the communication of the Holy Spirit consecrating the individual to the
spiritual Christian priesthood.6 At the first anointing, the head only
was marked ;— at the second, the forehead, ears, nose, and breast, —
to show how this consecration by the divine life should pervade and
ennoble the entire human nature. y
We noticed in the preceding period, how, in the Western church, a
distinct sacrament had arisen out of confirmation, or the laying on the
hands of the bishop as a symbol of the communication of the Holy
.
Spirit, (see above,) which originally made a part of the rite of baptism. ᾿
The ideas which men associated with the administration of that chrism,
and with the imposition of hands by the bishop, were originally so kin-
dred that they might easily be led to comprehend them both under one
and the same conception, and to unite them in one transaction. Yet
on this point the usage was still unsettled.’
1 Augustin. de catechizandis rudib. c. 26.
Confession. 1. I. ¢. 11.
2 ᾿Αποτασσομαΐ σοι, catava, Kal πάσῃ TH
πόμπῃ σοῦ, Kal πάσῃ TH λατρείᾳ σοῦ.
8 Συντάώσσομαί σοι, Χρίστε.
4 See vol. I. sect. 3, p. 315.
5 Cyrill. Mystagog. II. ο. 8. Κοινῶναι
byiveode τῆς καλλιελαίου ᾿Ιήσου Χρίστου.
Constitut. apostol. VII. 22.
6 Τούτου τοῦ ἁγίου χρίσματος καταξιωϑέν-
τες, καλεῖσϑε χριστιανοί, says Cyrill of Jeru-
salem, Cateches. Mystagog. III. ο. 4, conf.
Concil. Laodie. ο. 48.
7 Jerome reckons among the things re-
served to the bishop the manus impositio
and invocatio Spiritus Sancti, as constitut-
ing together only one act. Adversus Luct-
Jerianos, § 8. Moreover, Augustin, in his
work de baptismo contra Donatistas, 1. V.
§ 33, considers the manus impositio to be
the only thing necessary in the case of those
who had already received baptism in a he-
retical church, (and so, too, Siricius ep. ad
Himerium, § 2;) so that, according to this,
confirmation would consist simply in the
laying-on of the hands of the bishop. But
the seventh canon of the council of Laodi-
cea ordains, that the Fideles from several
sects whose baptism was recognized as
valid. should not be admitted to the com-
824 SEASONS OF BAPTISM.
THE SACRAMENTS.
The baptized now arrayed themselves in white robes, as a sign of
regeneration to a new divine life, of infantile purity, as in fact the lay-
ing aside of the old garments had been a symbol of the putting away
of the old man. Next followed a custom, in the Western churches,
also handed down from the foregoing period, of giving them a mixture
of milk and honey, as a symbol of childlike innocence (a foretype of the
communion which was to be received by them.)?
To the times of administering this rite more particularly observed in
the preceding period, among which, however, the Easter Sabbath ever
continued to be the principal one, was now added, in the Greek church,
the feast of Hpiphany,—a favorite season for ‘the administration of
this ordinance, on account of its reference to the baptism of Christ;
while, by the same church, the feast of Pentecost was not reckoned
among the other customary seasons for administering baptism.2 The
free evangelical spirit of Chrysostom declared strongly against those
who would confine baptism to particular seasons, and who imagined that
a genuine baptism could not be administered at any other: he brings
against this opinion the examples in the Acts of the Apostles. The
narrow spirit of the Roman church, on the other hand, was here again
the first to lay a restraint on Christian liberty. The Roman bishop Siri-
cius, in his decretal addressed to Himerius, bishop of Tarraco in Spain,
A.D. 385, styled it arrogant presumption in the Spanish priests that
they should baptize multitudes of people at Christmas, at the feast of
Epiphany, and at the festivals of the apostles and martyrs, as well as at
the other regular times ; and decreed, on the other hand, that, except in
the case of new-born infants, and other cases of necessity, baptisms
should only be administered at the festivals of Easter and Pentecost.*
With reference to these two constituent portions of the church
assemblies, the catechwmens ὅ and baptized believers, the whole service
munion till they had received the chrism.
The Roman bishop, Innocent, finally deci-
ded, in his Decretals to the bishop Decen-
tius, A.D. 416, § 6, that the anointing of
the forehead belonged to the act of con-
signation, (in the middle age called confirm-
ation,) which was specially appropriated to
the bishop. Hoc autem pontificium solis
deberi episcopis, ut vel consignent vel para-
cletum Spiritum tradant. Presbyteris chris-
mate bantizatos unguere licet, sed quod ab
episcopo fuerit consecratum, non tamen
frontem ex eodem oleo signare, quod solis
debetur episcopis, cum tradunt Spiritum
paracletum.
1 Hieronym. ady. Lucif. ὁ 8, Cod. canon.
eccles. Afr. canon. 37. Mel et lac et quod
uno die solennissimo,— probably Baster Sab-
bath or Easter Sunday— (more probably
the former, because on Easter Sunday they
already united together in the communion)
—in infantum mysterio solet offerri.
2 Chrysost. H. I. in act. ap. § 6. He here
intimates as the reason, that fasts belonged,
with other things, to the preparation for
baptism, and that no fasts were held during
the season of Pentecost.
8 Ἡ. 1. in act. ap. § 8.
4 See the Decretals, ὁ 3.
5 In respect to what took place between
the two portions of time, the arrangements
seem not to have been everywhere alike;
and this is true especially so far as it con-
cerns the number of the single prayers of
the church, appointed for the different
classes of Christians. In the nineteenth
canon of the council of Laodicea, the
prayer for the catechumens is mentioned
first after the sermon; then, after their dis-
mission, the prayer for the penitents, (Poe-
nitentes.) In the Apostolic Constitutions,
there occurs also a special prayer for the
baptismal candidates, (Competentes;) but
the author of these Constitutions seeks in
every way to multiply the liturgical servi-
ces, and it may be questioned whether such
a church-prayer was ever in actual use.
We find no indication of it in Chrysostom.
There certainly occurs, however, in the lat-
ter writer, (H. III. de incomprehensib. § 6,
T. I. f. 469,) the notice of a special church-
prayer for the Energumens, while the same
is not mentioned in the above-cited canon
of the Laodicean council. But it may be
MISSA CATECHUMENORUM AND MISSA FIDELIUM. 325
was divided into two portions: one in which the catechumens were al-
lowed to join, embracing the reading of the scriptures and the sermon,
the prevailingly didactic portion; and the other, in which the baptized
alone could take part, embracing whatever was designed to represen’
. the fellowship of believers, —the communion, and all the prayers of
the church which preceded it. These were called the missa catechumen-
orum and the missa fidelium ; (λειτουργία τῶν κατηχουμένων and τῶν πίστων 3)!
which division must of course have fallen into disuse after the general
introduction of infant baptism.
We now leave the Missa Catechumenorum to speak of the Missa
Fidelium ; and first of the preparations for the celebration of the com-
munion.
The separation of the sacrament of the supper from the agape had,
as we have observed, (see vol. I. sect. 3, p. 325,) been made long be-
fore, in the preceding period. The original celebration of the latter
was a thing so remote from the views and feelings of this present pe-
riod, that the homeletic writers find it difficult even to form a just con-
ception of it.2 The Agapz had lost their original meaning. They
were at present banquets with which the wealthier members of the com-
munity sometimes entertained the poorer Christians, and at which the
latter enjoyed a somewhat better fare than ordinarily fell to their lot.
The more gloomy and morose spirit, whose opposition to the Agapze we
have already noticed in the preceding period, continued to show the same
dislike to them in this. The above-mentioned council of Gangra, which
manifested. some resistance to this one-sided ascetic tendency, took the
Agape under its protection; pronouncing sentence of condemnation,
in its eleventh canon, on those who treated these festivals with con-
tempt when they were made from Christian motives,“and discourteously
refused to attend them when the brethren were invited in honor of the
Lord. Other councils did not object to the Agape, in themselves con-
sidered, but only forbade them to be held in the churches.*
well supposed, that persons of this descrip- dimittitur. In this sense Augustin used
tion would be found only in the larger
towns, and under particular circumstances
of climate, in sufficient numbers to consti-
. tute a class by themselves in the public
worship, for whom a particular prayer would
be offered. All these church-prayers, how-
ever, are known to us only from Eastern
sources. The question comes up, whether
these special church-prayers were in use
also in the Western church, in addition to
the universal prayer of the church for the
different classes of Christians. Augustin,
Sermo 49, § 8, represents the dismission of
the catechumens, and next the Paternoster,
which was designed only for baptized be-
lievers, the εὔχη τῶν πίστων, as following
immediately after the sermon.
1 The term missa, in the Latinity of this
period, is a substantive, and synonymous
with mssio. The dismission of any as-
sembly was called missa. Avitus of Vienna,
ep. I. In ecclesia palatioque missa fieri
pronuntiatur, cum populus ab observantia
VOL. I.
the word, p. 49, § 8. Post sermonem fit
missa catechumenorum. As the term then
properly denoted the dismission of the cat-
echumens, so it was next applied metonym-
ically to the different portions of divine
service which preceded or followed this dis-
mission; and finally, in an altogether pe-
culiar sense, to the communion which came
afterwards, and by synecdoche to the whole
of a complete service. Thus the word
missa, mass, in its ordinary acceptation,
came gradually into use. ἡ
2 As, for example, Chrysostom, in the
twenty-seventh homily on the first epistle
to the Corinthians.
8 Augustin. c. Faustum. I. 20, ο. 20. Aga-
pes nostr pauperes pascunt, sive frugibus
sive carnibus. Plerumque in agapibus etiam
carnes pauperibus erogantur. =
4 Concil. Laodicen. c. 28. Concil. Ἔα.
393, or Cod. canon. eccles. Afr. 42. ter
Concil. Trullan. II. c. 74.
Ne
820 THE SACRAMENTS. THE LORD’S SUPPER.
Tn respect to the liturgical service connected with the sacrament of
the supper in this period,! it is to be observed that it was based on the
genuinely Christian view of the holy supper as representing the fellow-
ship of divine life subsisting between believers, their Redeemer and
one another. The whole design, therefore, was to bring up to lively
exercise in the minds of Christians the thought that they were now en-
tering into communion with the ascended Christ, and should, in spirit,
ascend up to where he is in heaven; that though the whole was a free
gift of divine grace, yet they should be prepared to receive it by the
direction of their affections to the Redeemer and by faith in him ; that,
without mutual love towards each other, they could not enter into com-
munion with the Saviour. The deacon invited all present to bestow
the mutual kiss of charity, as a sign of the fraternal communion of
hearts, without which no true celebration of the sacred supper could be
observed.2 Next the deacon called upon the assembled church to ex-
amine themselves and one another, to see that no unworthy person was
among them ;* meaning by this, that they should see, not merely that
no catechumens, unbelievers, or heretics were present, but also that there
was no one who harbored wrong feelings against his brother, no one
playing the part of a hypocrite. “ Let us all stand up; our eyes di-
rected to the Lord, with fear and trembling (in the sense of our own
unworthiness and weakness, and the exalted character of him who is
willing to commune with us.” )® Then, for the purpose of making it
still more distinctly felt, that none but the heart whose affections were
bent on heavenly things could take any part in communion with the
Saviour, the deacon once wore said : “Lift up your hearts ;”’ ®— to
which the church respondad, “‘ Yes, to the Lord we have lifted them
up.” 7 Next, in conformity with the original meaning and celebration
of the ordinance, followed the invitation of the bishop, calling on the
church to unite in giving thanks for all the blessings of creation and
redemption ; ὃ and the church replied to the bishop’s invitation in the
words, ‘ Yes, it is meet and right to give thanks unto the Lord.” 9
Before the elements were distributed, the bishop, to signify that only a
holy temper was prepared to participate in a holy ordinance, exclaimed,
“* The holy, to the holy.” © But the church expressed the consciousness,
1 As we learn from the Apostolic Consti-
tutions, from the V. among the λόγοις μυστα-
γωγίκοις of Cyrill, and from the scattered
fragments in the homilies of Chrysostom;
also from single hints in the sermons of
Augustin and of others.
“2° Ασπασέσϑε ἀλλήλους ἐν φιλήματι ἁγίῳ, °
or in Cyrill, ἀλλήλους ἀπολάβετε καὶ ἀλλή-
λους ἀσπαζώμεϑα : which last formula doubt-
less was to show, that the clergy should
consider this as addressed not only to the
flock, but also to themselves.
ὃ Επιγινώσκετε ἀλλήλους, according to
Chrysostom.
4 Μὴ τις κατὰ τινος͵ μὴ τις ἐν ὑποκρίσει.
ὅ Ὄρϑοι πρὸς κύριον μετὰ φόβου καὶ τρό-
μου ἑστώτες ὧμεν προσφέρειν. In the word
προσφέρειν lies, it is true, the notion of sac-
rifice; yet in this connection the term may
still have reference to the notion of sac-
rifice, taken in the spiritual, symbolical
sense. See vol. I. sect. 3, p. 330; and it is
singular to observe, that here the sacrificial
act is set forth according to the original view,
which held the clergy to be only the repre-
sentatives of the church in the exercise of
the universal Christian priesthood, as a
common transaction of the priest and the
flock, not as a special act of the priest alone.
θάνω τὰς καρδίας, or ἄνω τὸν νοῦν, OF
both together, ἄνω τὰς καρδίας καὶ τόν νοῦν
sursum Corda. ς
T*Exouev πρὸς τὸν κύριον,
8 See vol. I. sect. 8, p. 899.
9”ALiov καὶ δίκαιον.
10 Τὰ ἁγία τοῖς ἅγιοις.
CONSECRATION OF THE ELEMENTS 327
that no man is holy out of his own nature, that only one is holy, and the
sinful could be made holy only through faith in him, by exclaiming,
“ One is holy, one Lord, Jesus Christ, blessed for ever to the glory of
God the Father.’! During the celebration of the supper, the 34th
Psalm, particularly the 9th verse, was sung, as an invitation to the
communicants.
In the consecration of the elements, it was considered to he essen-
tially important, that the words of the institution, according to the gos-
pel, and according to the apostle Paul, should be pronounced without
alteration ; for it was the general persuasion, that when the priest uttered
the words of Christ : “‘ This is my body, my blood,” by virtue of the mag-
ical power of these words, the bread and wine were, in some miraculous
way, united with the body and blood of Christ.? Concerning the par-
ticular notions on this point, see section IV. These words of institu-
tion were, however, introduced into a prayer,® in which God was invoked
graciously to accept this offering. When the bishop or presbyter was
about to finish the consecration, the curtain which hung before the
altar was drawn ἀρ. and the consecrating minister now showed to the
church the outward elements of the supper, which till now had been con-
cealed from their eyes, lifting them up, as the body and blood of
Christ. That the church then fell on their knees, or that they pros-
trated themselves on the ground, cannot indeed be proved by the au-
thority of any ecclesiastical writer of this period. We know it was not
until a much later period, that this usage was introduced into the Wes-
tern church ; but the custom, to say the least, fell in with the prevail-
ing views and language of the Greek church ;7 and this outward sign
of reverence was, in fact, more frequently used by the latter, and in a
less rigid sense, than among the people of the- West.
The confounding of the inward thing with the outward sign, in the
sacrament of the supper, gave rise to many expressions of a super-
stitious reverence for the external symbols of the ordinance ;*® while
1 Elc¢ ἅγιος, εἰς κύριος, εἷς ᾿Ιησοῦς Xpiaroc,
εἰς δόξαν Yer πάτρος εὐλογητὸς εἰς τοὺς
αἰῶνας, ἀμήν.
3 See Chrysostom. Hom. I. de proditione
Jude, § 6, T. II. f. 884. Τοῦτο τὸ ρῆμα pe-
ταῤῥύϑμιζει Ta προκείμενα: ἡ φωνὴ αὕτη ἅπαξ
λεχϑεῖσα καϑ' ἑκαστην τρώπεζαν ἐν ταῖς
ἐκκλησίαις ἐξ ἐκείνου μέχρι σήμερον καὶ μέχρι
τῆς αὐτοῦ παρουσίας τὴν ϑυσίαν ἀπερτισμέ-
νην ἐργάζεται. De sacramentis, lib. IV.
ce. IV. Ubi venitur, ut conficiatur sacra-
mentum, jam non suis sermonibus sacerdos,
sed utitur sermonibus Christi; ergo sermo
Christi‘boe confecit sacramentum.
8 Basilius, de Sp. S. c. 27, says, that be-
sides the words taken from the gospels and
from Paul, many others were here used
from tradition. Προλέγομεν καὶ ἐπιλέγο-
μεν ἑτέρα.
4 Such a form of prayer has been pre-
served to us in the work de sacramentis,
l.c.; and it is remarkable, that here, too, the
primitive way of thinking and feeling still
manifests its presence, since it was not
Christ, but the bread and wine, the symbols
of his body, which were represented as the
object of the sacrificial act. Hance oblatio-
nem — it runs — quod est figura corporis et
sanguinis domini nostri, offerimus tibi hune
panem sanctum.
5 Chrysostom. Hom. III. in epist. ad
Ephes. § 5. ᾿Ανελκόμενα τὰ ἀμφίϑυρα.
§ Basil. de Sp. S. ¢. 27: ᾿Αναδείξις τοῦ
ἄρτου καὶ τοῦ ποτηρίου. Dionys. Areopagit.
hierarch. 3. ΟΥ̓ the consecrating officer it
is said: Ὕπ᾽ ὄψιν ἄγει ἀνακαλύψας.
Τ᾿ φρο Theodoret. Dial. II. in confus. re-
specting the outward elements in the sup-
per: Προσκυνεῖται ὡς éxeiva ὄντα ἅπερ πις-
TEVETAL,
8’ Thus Cyrill of Jerusalem, Mystagog.
V. 17, recommends that, as long as any
moisture remained in the mouth, Chris-
tians should apply it to the hand, and with
the hand so moistened, touch the forehead,
the eyes, and the other organs of sense, and
thus sanctify them.
928 THE SACRAMENTS. DAILY COMMUNION.
this superstitious reverence had no tendency whatever to promote the
worthy use of it as a means of grace. On’the contrary, the more men
were accustomed to look upon the holy supper as possessing a power to
sanctify by some magical operation from without, the less they thought
of what was requisite on the part of the inner man, in order to a right use
of this means of grace in its religious and moral purport ; a fact made
sufficiently evident by the censures and admonitions which the Greek
fathers found it necessary so frequently to introduce in their homilies.
We already noticed, in the preceding period, the origin of the-di-
versity of custom which prevailed in respect to the less frequent or the
daily participation in the communion. ‘This difference of practice con-
tinued to prevail also in the present period. In the Roman, the ‘Span-
ash, and the Alexandrian churches,! daily communion was still practis-
ed, at least in the fourth century. In other churches, the custom was
to observe the communion less frequently ; each individual, in fact, join-
ing in it according as his own inward necessities required. This diversity
of practice, also, grew out of the different views which prevailed res-
pecting the use of this means of grace. Some, who were in favor of
the less frequent participation of the sacrament, said, certain seasons
ought to be chosen in which Christians might prepare themselves, by a
life of severity and abstinence, by collecting the thoughts, and by self
examination, for a worthy participation, so as not to join in the holy or-
dinance to their own condemnation. Others maintained that Christ-
ians ought never to keep away from the ordinance, except when, on
account of some great transgression, they were, by the sentence of the
bishop, suspended from the communion and condemned to church pen-
ance ; on all other occasions they ought to look upon the Lord’s body
as a daily means of salvation.2, Augustin and Jerome reckoned these
differences also among the ones where each individual, without preju-
dice to Christian fellowship, was bound to proceed according to the
usage of his own church and according to his own subjective point of
view. ““ Kach of them,’’ says Augustin, “ honors the Lord’s body, in his
own way ; just as there was no difference between Zaccheus and that
centurion, when one of them received the Lord joyfully into his house,
Luke 19 : 6, and the other said, ‘ Lord, I am not worthy that thou
shouldst come under my roof,’ (Matt. 8 : 8,)— both honoring the Sa-
viour in different, and, so to speak, opposite ways, both felt themselves
wretched in their sins, both obtained grace.’’? Chrysostom inclines to
the opinion that, as the celebration of the communion of believers with .
the Lord and with one another, in the sacred supper, belonged to the
essential being of every church assembly, therefore, whenever the com-
munion was celebrated in the church, all should: participate in it: but
here assuredly everything depends on its being done in the right tem-
per of heart; else it must only redound to the condemnation of him
who unworthily participates in the ordinance. “‘ Many,”’ says he, in a
discourse preached at Antioch,® ‘ partake of the sacrament once in the
1 Respecting the two first, see Hierony- 2 See Augustin: ep. 54. ad Januar..§ 4.
mus, ep. 71 ad Lucinium, ὁ 6 ; — respecting 8 Ἡ, 17, in ep. ad Hebr. ὁ 4.
the latter, Basilius of Caesarea, ep. 93.
DOMESTIC COMMUNION. 329
year, others twice. The anachorets in the deserts oftentimes can par-
take of it only once in two years. Neither of these cases can be ap-
proved, in itself considered. We can give our unqualified approbation
only to those who come to the communion with a pure heart, a con-
science void of offence, and a blameless life. Such may continually re-
pair to the sacrament of the supper; but those who are not so disposed
eat and drink condemnation to themselves, even though they partake
of it but once.” He was obliged to complain that many, who, on
ordinary occasions, felt themselves unworthy to participate in the com-
munion, still had no scruples to communicate once a year, after the
fasts, at the festival of Easter, or of the Epiphany ; just as if they did
not incur the same condemnation, whether they received the holy sup-
per at these or at any other times, in an unholy temper of mind.’ He
complains? that of those who, on other days when the church assem-
bled, attended the entire missa fidelium, very few participated in the
communion, to which the whole liturgy had reference ; so that the whole
act in this case was a mere formality. ‘‘ They either belong to the
class of the unworthy, who are notified (see above) to depart from the
assembly, or they remain behind as belonging with the worthy, in which
case they ought to partake of the communion. What a contradiction,
that, while they join in all those confessions and songs, they yet cannot
participate of the Lord’s body!”
In those cases, however, where the custom of daily communion still
prevailed, but divine service was held and the sacramental supper con-
secrated only once or twice on Sunday and Friday, or at most but four
times a week, on Sunday, Saturday, Wednesday, and Friday, no other
course remained for those who were desirous of having the body of the
Lord for their daily nourishment, except to take home with them a por-
tion of the consecrated bread, — for a superstitious dread prevented
them from taking with them the wine, which might be so easily spilled,
—and to reserve it for future use, so that now they might every day, be-
fore engaging in any worldly employment, participate of the sacrament,
and consecrate and strengthen themselves by communion with the Lord.®
In voyages by sea, also, Christians were in the habit of taking with
them a portion of the consecrated bread, so as to have it in their power
to partake of the sacrament by the way.* |
This abuse, so contradictory to the original design of the holy supper,
1H. V. in ep. I. ad Timoth. § 3. In ep.
ad Ephes. Homil. III. § 4.
2 The last-cited place, § 5.
8 This is said by Jerome, in ep. 48 ad
Pammachium, § 16, concerning Rome:
Rome hance esse consuetudinem, ut fideles
semper Christi corpus accipiant; and subse-
quently, in reference to those who, although
they were afraid to come to church, yet had
no fear of participating in the Lord’s body
at home, he says: An alius in publico, alius
in domo, Christus est? In like manner,
Basil of Cxsarea says of Alexandria, ep.
93, that in that place, each one communi-
cated, whenever he pleased, at home.
28*
VOL. II.
* See Ambros. oratio funebris de obitu
fratris Satyri. This notion of a magical
virtue residing in the bread, is illustrated
by an example which Ambrose here relates
in the case of his own brother. The latter,
at some period before he had received bap-
tism, being on board a ship which ran ashore
and was wrecked, obtained from some of
his fellow voyagers who had been baptized,
a portion of the consecrated bread, which
they carried with them. This he bound
round his neck, and then confidently threw
himself into the sea. He was the first to "
get to the land, and of course ascribed his
deliverance to the power of this charm
330 THE SACRAMENTS. THE LORD’S SUPPER.
whereby it was converted into a sort of amulet,! was the occasion, too, of
bringing about the first deviation from the original form of institution;
for Christians were now satisfied when they partook of the consecrated
bread without the cup. In other respects, the full participation of the
sacrament in both kinds was uniformly held to be necessary. The
contrary practice was condemned as savoring of Manicheism ; since
the Manicheans, conformably to their ascetic principles, avoided partak-
ing of the wine in the sacrament of the supper.”
The preceding period shows us how, by a change of the idea of the
Christian priesthood, another shape and direction was given also to the
original idea of a sacrificial act in the sacrament of the supper. In the
present period we may still trace, by various marks, the separate exist-
ence of these very different elements, out of which the notion of a sacri-
fice in the Lord’s supper gradually arose. On the one hand, was the
older form of intuition and the older phraseology, according to which
the name sacrifice was referred to the outward elements, so far as these
represented the gifts of nature, all to be consecrated to God in the tem-
per of grateful, childlike love: on the other, was the later form of intu-
ition, which referred the sacrifice to the body of Christ himself.
Again, considerable prominence was given, it is true, on one side, to
the assertion that, if the sacrament of the supper must, in the last refer-
ence, be called a sacrifice, yet by this was to be understood simply the
celebration of the memory of Christ’s sacrifice once for all ; but still the
notion here crept in, of effects and influences similar to those of a priestly
sacrifice.
At this point came in many traditional usages from the preceding
period, which, though they sprung originally out of a purely Christian
feeling, yet, on account of their connection with the false notion of a
sacrifice, received an unevangelical meaning. With the prayer of thanks
at the celebration of the Lord’s supper, were united intercessions for all
the different classes of Christendom, and also intercessions for the repose
of the souls of the dead. In the uniting together of these objects, the
idea lying at bottom was, that all the prayers of Christians, both thanks-
givings and intercessions, derived their Christian significancy from their
reference to the Redeemer and to the redemption ; that the spirit of
love which actuated the community of believers longed to have the bles- -
sed effects of the redemption experienced by all the individual members
of Christ’s body, and also by those who did not as yet belong to it,
who must first be incorporated into it by divine grace ; that nothing could
be alien from this love, which concerned the individual members of the
body of Christ ; that the fellowship between those who had died in the
faith of the Lord, and the living members of the same community of the
Lord, still endured, and could not be interrupted by death ; that the
celebration of the remembrance of Christ’s sufferings for the redemp-
1 Meanwhile we find, in the third canon church; but this decree may perhaps have
of the council of Cxsaraugusta, (Saragossa,) been directed, not so much against the
A.D. 380, and in the fourteenth canon of abuse of treasuring up the consecrated ele-
the first council of Toledo, A.D. 400, a ment, by itself considered, as against the
stringent decree against those who did not hypocritical catholicism of the Priscillians
partake of the sacrament of the supper at See Leo the Great, Sermo 41." ᾿
IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 331
tion of mankind was especially suited to call forth all these feelings.
It is this combination of ideas, too, though not so distinctly apprehended,
which lies at the basis of those rhetorico-poetical representations in the
Greek homilists, concerning the connection of these church-prayers
with the celebration of the Lord’s supper.! Petitions were offered
for those who had fallen asleep in Christ, and for those who celebrated
their memory.?» On this occasion, too, the individuals were particularly
mentioned by name, who had made donations to the church ; a practice
certainly calculated to inspire the more wealthy with a false confidence,
by leading them to imagine that by such gifts they could purchase the
remission of their sins, or to flatter their vanity, since they considered
it a special honor to have their names thus publicly proclaimed. Pa-
rents, children, husbands, and wives, celebrated the memory of their de-
parted friends, by laying a gift on the altar at their death amd on each
returning anniversary of it, thus causing them to be particularly re-
membered in the prayers of the church.
But now, when the idea of a commemorative celebration of the sacri-
fice of Christ for mankind passed insensibly into the idea of an effica-
cious sacrificial act of the priest standing as a mediator between God
and men, it was just from the connection of these intercessions and
offerings with this sacrificial act, that a special efficacy was attributed to
them.® The expressions, more rhetorical than dogmatically precise,
which were employed by the Greek homilists, for the purpose of repre-
senting to the imagination the efficacy of these intercessions,® likewise
contributed to promote the tendency, already existing in the popular
ΤῈ, g. Chrysostom. H. 21, in act. apos-
tol. ὁ 4. Καταγγέλλεται τότε τὸ μυστήριον
τὸ φρίκτον, ὅτι ὑπὲρ τῆς οὐκουμένης ἐδώκεν
ἑαυτόν ὁ ϑέος, μετὰ τοῦ ϑαύματος ἐκείνου
εὐκαιρῶς ὑπομιμνήσκει αὔτον τῶν ἡμαρτηκό-
των.
3 Ὁ διάκονος βοᾷ: ὑπὲρ τῶν ἐν Χρίστῳ
κεκοιμημένων καὶ τῶν τὰς μνείας ὑπὲρ αὐτῶν
ἐπιτελουμένων.
8 See Hieronymus, lib. II. in Jeremiam
opp. ed. Martianay, T. III. f.584. Nunc
publice recitantur offerentium nomina, et
redemptio peccatorum mutatur in laudem,
—also the 29th canon of the council of
Elvira, nomen alicujus ab altare cum obla-
tione recitare.. The Roman bishop Innocent
directed, that all the gifts presented should
first be commended to God, as consecrated
to his service by the love of the Christians ;
and that then all the individuals should be
mentioned by name in the prayers of the
church at the celebration of the commu-
nion. Prius oblationes sunt commendande
ac tune eorum nomina, quorum sunt, edi-
cenda, ut inter sacra mysteria nominentur,
ep. 25 ad Decentium, § 5. The patrons of
the church were also specially mentioned
on this occasion; for Chrysostom represents
it as a special privilege of the proprietor
who allows a church to be built on his
land, τὸ ἐν ταῖς ἁγίαις ἀναφύραις det τὸ ὄνο-
ua σοῦ ἐγκεῖσϑαι. H. 28, in act. ap. § 5.
* Chrysost. h. 29, in act. ap. ὁ 3. Ἔϑος
ὁ δείνα ἔχει ποίειν τὴν ἀναμνῆσιν τῆς μῆτρος
ἢ τῆς γυναΐκος ἢ τοῦ παιδίου. Epiphanius
cites among other ancient usages of the
church, expos. fid. cathol. "Ex? τῶν τελευ-
τησώντων ἐξ ονόματος τὰς μνῆμας ποιοῦνται,
προσεύχας τελοῦντες καὶ λατρείας καὶ οἰκονο-
μίας. Chrysostom distinguishes expressly
the presentation of the Lord’s supper, in
reference to the departed, from the prayer
and the alms connected therewith. Οὐκ
εἰκῇ πρόσφοραι ὑπὲρ τῶν ἀπελϑόντων yivov-
ται, οὐκ εἰκῆ ἱκετηρίαι, οὐκ εἰκῆ ἐλεημόσυναι.
In act. ap. Η. 21, § 4.
5 Thus the words of Innocent, in the
above-cited passage from his Decretals, re-
fer to this connection: Ut ipsis mysteriis
viam futuris precibus aperiamus.
6 See Chrysostom. H. 21, in act. ap. § 4.
“ As, on the celebration of an imperial vic-
tory, the imprisoned obtain their liberty, but
he who lets this opportunity slip obtains no
further grace, so it is here.” And Cyrill of
Jerusalem, Cateches. Mystagog. V. § 7.
“ Just as when the emperor condemns one
to banishment, but, if his kinsmen present a
chaplet in his behalf, the emperor is induced
to show him favor; so we present to God,
in behalf of those who are asleep, though
they were sinners, the Christ who was of
fered for our sins.”
332 THE SACRAMENTS. THE LORD’S SUPPER.
belief, to regard this ordinance in the light of a charm, just as in other
cases we may often observe a similar action and reaction between the
dogmatical and the liturgical departments.
Still, however, the opposite purely evangelical way of regarding the
relation of the sacramental supper to Christ’s sacrifice is expressly
adopted by Chrysostom, when he says: ‘‘ Do we not offer every day ?
We do offer, it is true; but only in this sense, that we celebrate the
memory of Christ’s death.1 We ever present the same offering ; or
rather we celebrate the remembrance of that one offering.’? This
purely Christian way of regarding the ordinance is presented also by
Augustin, when he says that Christians, by the presentation and par-
ticipation of the body and blood of Christ, celebrate the memory of the ©
offering made once for all ;? when he styles the Lord’s supper an offer-
ing in this sense, that it is the sacrament which celebrates the remem-
brance of the sacrifice of Christ. His mode of apprehending the idea
of sacrifice seems to proceed from a genuinely Christian spirit. The
true sacrifice consists, according to him, in this: that the soul, consumed
by the fire of divine love, consecrates itself wholly to God. All ac-
tions which flow from such a temper are, in this sense, sacrifices. The
whole redeemed city of God, the community of saints, is the universal
offering presented to God by the High Priest, who has offered himself
for us, that we, following his example, might become the body of so
great a head. ‘This, the celebration of Christ’s sacrifice in the sacra-
ment of the holy supper represents; in the sacrifice of Christ, the
church at the same time presents itself as a sacrifice to God. That is,
the living celebration of the memory of Christ’s sacrifice, in Christian
communion, necessarily includes in it, that they who are united together,
by faith in the Redeemer, in one community of God, should in spirit
follow the Saviour, and, as they have heen redeemed, in order wholly
to belong to him and to serve him, give themselves unreservedly to
God. But had Augustin conceived and expressed this in a way so
entirely clear, and introduced into the sacramentum memoriz nothing
besides, no room would have been left for the notion of a sacrificial act
working on for the salvation of others. He did connect with it, how-
ever, the idea already implied in the practice of the church, of an offer-
ing for the repose of departed souls.6 It was thus, then, that the germ
of the false idea of sacrifice still continued to be propagated ; and so it
passed over, by means of Gregory the Great, (with whom we shall com-
mence the next period,) in its fully developed form, to the succeeding
centuries.
To that which, in itself considered, had sprung out of a purely
Christian root, but had received a different turn by becoming diverted
and estranged from the original Christian spirit, belonged also the cele-
1H. 17, in ep. ad Hebr. § 3. ’AAA’ ἀναμνή-
σιν ποιούμενοι τοῦ ϑανάτου αὐτοῦ.
2 Μάλλον δὲ ἀναμνῆσιν ἐργαζόμεϑα ϑυσίας.
8 Peracti ejusdem sacrificii memoriam
celebrant. c. Faust. 1. 20, ¢. 18.
*L.¢.¢. 21. Sacrificium Christi per sa-
cramentum memoriz celebratur.
5 De civitate Dei, 1. X.c. 6. Quod etiam
sacramento altaris fidelibus non frequentat
ecclesia, ubi ei demonstratur, quod in ea re,
quam offert, ipsa offeratur.
ὁ Ep. 32 ad Aurelium, ὁ 6. Oblationes
pro spiritibus dormientium, quas vere ali-
quid adjuvare credendum est.
HONOR PAID ΤῸ THE SAINTS. 333.
bration of the memory of the great teachers of the universal church,
divinely enlightened by the Holy Spirit, or of distinguished individual
confessors of the faith. By itself considered, a purely Christian feeling
and interest manifested themselves in this fact, that men not only look-
ed for, and acknowledged, the working of the Holy Spirit in the great
whole of the church, but had their attention particularly directed also
to the special forms of this activity in the sanctified and enlightened
human minds which had specially served as the organs of that Spirit ;
that in these, and the labors of these, men specially honored the power
and grace of God, the Redeemer and Sanctifier, and gave this particu-
lar direction to the views of their contemporaries and of the following
generations, which should go on to develope themselves under the influ-
ence of Christian remembrances. The commemorative days of holy
men passed over from the preceding period into this ; many such days
were celebrated in those particular portions of the church where these
men were born, or where they had labored ; and some of them through-
out the whole church, with more than usual pomp and circumstance.
The latter was the case with festivals in commemoration of the martyr-
dom of Peter and Paul, which were among the principal festivals at
Rome, and with the feast in honor of St. Stephen.t
The Christian mode of judgment was shown also in this, that men no
longer shrunk from the contact of a dead body, as if it were unclean
and defiling ; but looked upon the body as the organ of a purified soul,
destined to be transfigured to a higher form of existence. Hence it
was, that the repose of such bodies was watched with the faithful mem-
ory of reverence and love; that they were gladly received and. de-
posited in newly erected churches, so as to connect these places, as it
were, by an outward historical bond, with the Christian deeds of the
church achieved in more ancient times. But we observed already, in
the preceding period, how the multitude began to incline towards a
deification of human instruments. ‘The church-teachers, who in one
respect resisted this-popular bent,? yet in another were hurried along
themselves by the same spirit ; and they certainly fostered in the germ
that tendency, the extravagancies and manifestly pagan-like offshoots
of which they were contending against. The churches now erected
over the tombs of the martyrs tended to promote the veneration for them.
1 The fact that this last-mentioned festi-
val was transferred by the Western church
to the day after Christmas is not to be as-
cribed to any exaggerated reverence for
Stephen, that ventured to compare him, in
some sense, with Christ; but the reason of
it is to be found rather in the right appre-
hension of Stephen’s relation to his Saviour
and Master, to whom he bore witness by his
confession and death. In this way it was
intended to represent Stephen as the first
witness of Christ, who was born on the day
before; it was intended by this to make it
manifest, that without the Saviour’s birth,
Stephen could not have suffered this mar-
tyrdom ; that his martyrdom was a standing
memorial of what human nature had at-
tained by Christ’s nativity. The Western
homilists, especially Augustin, understood
very well how to unfold and turn to good
account this connection of ideas.
2 At the death of a venerated monk, con-
tentions might arise between the people of
the city and the country about the posses-
sion of his body. See Theodoret. hist. re-
ligios. c. 21, T. III. p. 1239. But pious
monks, as has been already seen in the case
of Anthony, took care beforehand, to have
the place of their burial concealed, and to
prevent their bodies from becoming objects
of worship. See hist. religios. p. 1148 and
1221, in the vol. just cited.
894 HONORS PAID TO SAINTS. RELIQUES.
The feelings and remembrances here awakened by the place itself,
might, in many cases, lead to extraordinary effects on the mind. Thus
it may be explained how the conscience of many a guilty individual
might here be aroused, and impel him to the confession of his crime ;1
how many kinds of diseases, where a particular bent of the imagination
or state of the nervous system had special sway, might here be relieved,
— especially mental diseases, as indeed many of the churches of the mar-
tyrs were celebrated for the cure of demoniacs. The same effects were
attributed to the reliques of saints and martyrs, the sight and touch of
which often produced great effects, by virtue of what they were for the
mind of the beholder. The fact was triumphantly appealed to, that the
divine grace revealed itself in so manifold ways, through these conse-
crated organs, that the body of each martyr was not preserved ina
single burial place, but cities and villages shared it between them ; and
that although the martyr’s body was thus distributed in fragments, yet
the gracious virtue of the remains continued to be undivided.? But in
this way it came about, that the people, on whom what was immediately
present and made a direct impression on their own senses exerted the
greatest influence, instead of adhering steadfastly to the one Saviour
and mediator for sinful humanity, forgot him in their admiration of men
standing in equal need of redemption with themselves, and made the
latter their mediators ; and that much which was essentially heathen
became incorporated, under a Christian form, with Christian modes of
feeling and thinking. ‘There were to be found in the churches of the
martyrs, as formerly in the temples of pagan gods, representations
in gold or silver, of limbs supposed to have been healed by help of the
martyrs, and which were suspended there as consecrated gifts. Trans-
ferring to these churches the old practice of incubation in the temples
of Adsculapius, sick persons laid themselves down in them, and sought
for the cure of their complaints by such remedies as it was supposed the
martyrs would reveal, in dreams, during the night; and many were the
legends told of their appearances on these occasions. If aman was about
to start on a journey, he besought some martyr to accompany and protect
him ; and, on his safe return, he repaired again to the church to return
thanks. As, under Paganism, every province and city had its tutelary
deity, so now the martyrs were converted into these tutelary beings.*
Sometimes pagan myths were mixed up with Christian legends, martyrs
converted into mythical personages, and others invented, who never
lived. Thus the fable of Castor and Pollux was transferred to Phocas,
1 Augustin tells the story of a thief, who
was about to perjure himself in the church
of a martyr, but was so wrought upon
as to confess his theft, and restore the stolen
property. Novimus Mediolani apud memo-
riam sanctorum, ubi mirabiliter et terribili-
ter demones confitentur, furem quendam,
qui ad eum locum venerat, ut falsum juran-
do deciperet, compulsum fuisse confiteri
furtum et quod abstulerat reddere. Augus-
tin, ep. 78, § 3.
2 Theodoret. ‘EAAnvik. ϑεραπεύτικη πα-
ϑήματ. disputat. 8, p. 902. Πύλεις καὶ κώμαι
ταύτα διανειμάμεναι' μερισϑέντος τοῦ σώμα-
τος ἀμερίστος ἡ χώρις μεμένηκε.
ὃ Theodoret. |. c. T. IV. f. 922.
* As Theodorctus says himself, 1. c. 902:
Σωτήῆρας καὶ ψύχων καὶ σωμάτων καὶ ἰατροὺς
ὀνομαζοῦσι καὶ ὡς πολιούχους τιμῶσι καὶ φύ-
Aaxacg and Synesius says of the Thracian
martyrs: Θέους
Δρηστῆρας ὅσοι
Τόνιμον ϑρῴάκης
Ἔχουσι πεδόν.
Hymn III. v 458.
AUGUSTIN’S VIEWS. 8990
a martyr, said to have been a gardener at Sinope, in Pontus, —whether
any such a person ever lived, or the whole was but a mythical inven-
tion, — and he was converted into a patron saint of sailors, whose oppor-
tune appearance and friendly interposition formed the subject of many
alegend.! The pagan celebrations in memory of the dead, (the paren-
talia,) offerings and sacrificial banquets in honor of the manes, were
transferred to martyrs and other deceased persons, at whose graves the
people prepared feasts, which they were invited to attend as guests.
Well-meaning bishops had overlooked these things in the untutored mul-
titude, hoping that, by the triumph of Christianity over sensual rude-
ness, these abuses would disappear of themselves. But it was by
means of this unwise connivance, springing from an anxiety to promote
conversion by masses, that encouragement was given to the habit of
confounding pagan and Christian customs, and the pervading influence
of the Christian spirit greatly retarded. The abuse, which might have
been more easily suppressed at the beginning, was now upheld by the
authority of the older bishops, and, by length of time, became so invete-
rate, that a North-African council could only decree that these ban-
quets should be discontinued as far as possible,’ and that it required all
the firmness and pastoral prudence of an Augustin, which few possessed
in the same eminent degree, to get the better here over the rudeness
and superstition of the multitude.*
Pagans and Manicheans already frequently reproached the catholic
church with deifying the saints. As it regards the Pagans, it was in-
deed oftentimes the very circumstance which most completely accorded
with the Christian feelings, that was most repugnant to their own.
The church fathers defended themselves against this reproach, by
affirming that it was far from being the design of the church to deify the
martyrs ; that they were only honored and loved as instruments of the
divine working. ‘Thus, Augustin says:® ‘“‘ The Christian people cele-
brate the memory of the martyrs, as well that we may be excited to
emulate their virtues, as that we may share in their merits and be sup-
ported by their prayers. Yet it is not to the martyrs, but only to the
God of the martyrs, even in churches consecrated to their memory, that
we erect altars. What bishop has ever stood at the altar near the
1 Connected with this was the following
beautiful, though not purely Christian cus-
tom. During a voyage at sea, in preparing
the common table for the whole crew, a
dish was set for Phocas, who was supposed
to be an invisible guest. The different in-
dividuals of the crew purchased this dish
in turn. The amount of all the days of
the voyage was reckoned up; and, the ves-
sel having prosperously terminated her
voyage, the crew distributed all the money
thus collected among the poor, as a testimo-
ny of gratitude for the successful journey.
Asterius in Phocam.
2 Sce vol. I. sect. 3, p. 1231.
_*® Concil. Hippon. A.D. 393, quantum fie-
ri potest.
See the report on this matter in Augus-
tin. ep. 29 ad Alypium. This pagan cele-
bration was transferred particularly to the
festival which was held originally in_re-
membrance of the power to bind and to
loose, conferred on Peter, the natalitia ec-
clesiz et episcopatus. As this festival fell
on the 22d of February, the usages connected
with various kinds of sin-offerings, the
parentalia, februationes, which happened in
the month of February, came to be mixed
in with it. Perhaps, too, the idea of the
keys to the kingdom of heaven being given
to Peter, gave occasion for the introduction
of varions pagan ideas and customs of this
sort. See concil. Turon. II]. A.D. 567,6
22, against those qui in festivitate cathedra
Petri cibos mortuis offerunt.
5 C. Faust. |. 21, c. 21
336 HONORS PAID TO SAINTS.
grave of a martyr, and said, ‘ We offer to thee, Peter, Paul, ar Cy-
prian!’ Whateveris offered, we offer to the God who crowned the mar-
tyrs, and we present it on the holy spots consecrated to the memory of
those whom he has crowned ; so that, by the very recollections of the
‘place, our feelings may rise upward, and our love be enkindled as well
towards those whose example we would imitate, as towards Him by
whose help we may be enabled to do so. We honor the martyrs, then,
with that reverence of love and communion, which even in this life we
pay to the holy men of God, who, in the temper of their hearts, appear
to us to be prepared to suffer such things for the gospel truth. But the
former we reverence with the greater devotion, as the confidence is
greater with which it can be done, after the conflict is over,— as the
assurance with which we praise the conquerors is more complete than
we can have with regard to those who are still engaged in the conflict.”
So Theodoret : “ We honor them as witnesses and well-disposed ser-
vants of the most High.”! The church-teachers, as well as the rest,
shared in that wide-spread faith in the operations of divine grace through
the remains which had once served as the sanctified bodily organs of
these men. They looked upon these as an evidence of the importance
which a sanctified man, in whatever state or condition, had in the sight
of God ; they spoke on this subject with enthusiasm: but at the same
time they constantly referred back from these sanctified men to God
the author of all, and represented them as only living monuments of the
Redeemer’s grace. Teachers like Chrysostom and Augustin exhorted
their hearers not to place their dependence on the intercession of the
martyrs, without any holiness of their own ; not to use them as a crutch
for their own inactivity ; representing the martyrs and saints as being,
after all, but men, in their senful nature the same with all others ; and
calling upon their hearers to reverence them truly by imitating their
virtues. In a word, we find here various conflicting elements of a
Christian estimation of true worth, and an unevangelical over-valuation
of human instruments.
So also the liturgy of the Eastern church, where it makes mention of
the martyrs, contains something at variance with the exaggerated reve-
rence bestowed on them. For as the original custom of oddationes pro
martyribus arose from the fact that they were placed on the same level
with other redeemed sinful men, so this view of the case passed over
into the liturgical forms, and the martyrs were mentioned, in like man-
ner with others, in the intercessions.2> We must endeavor to reconcile
this element, originating in the primitive Christian way of thinking, with
the prevailing notions concerning the martyrs, by some such explanation
as the following: that although the martyrs were mentioned in the same
rank and series, yet this was done with a different reference and in
another sense ; the martyrs being considered as a standing witness ot
the redeeming power of Christ’s sufferings, the remembrance of which
was celebrated in the sacrament of the supper, and also of his victory
1L. ¢. 908. Ὡς ϑεοῦ ye μάρτυρας καὶ munity of believers, it was said also: Ku
εὐνοῦς ϑεραπόντας. μάρτυρες ὧσι, Kav ὑπερ μαρτύρων. Chrysost
2In the general πρόσφορα for the com- Η. 21, in act. ap. § 4.
VIGILANTIUS. 337
over death ;1 just as, in the celebration of a triumph of the emperor,
all those partook of the honor who had borne any share in obtainmg
the victory.
Much, however, as the more distinguished teachers of the church
labored to reconcile with the essence of the pure Christian worship of
God, and so to spiritualize, the worship of the saints, still the extrava-
gant encomiums which they bestowed on them, in their rhetorico-poetical
style of writing and speaking, could not fail to result in promoting the
popular superstition. And by the same principle on which they here
proceeded to spiritualize the worship of the saints, the New-Platonic
philosophers could sublimate and spiritualize polytheism itself.
But here, too, as in the case of the overstrained ascetic tendency, re-
specting which we have already spoken, an opposition manifested itself,
which grew out of the original Christian spirit still remaining in the
church. The extravagant veneration paid to the martyrs, which among
the people bordered on idolatry, moved the presbyter Vigilantius of Bar-
celona, a native of Gaul — whom we have mentioned in another connec-
tion as an opponent of the one-sided ascetic tendency and of Monachism
— to call the whole thing in question. He seems to have been a man
possessed, indeed, of too headstrong a temper, yet actuated by an honest
and pious zeal for preserving the purity of the Christian faith.2 Had
he used greater moderation in attacking aberrations of the religious
spirit which still had some foundation in the feelings, although misinter-
preted, of the Christian heart, he might have accomplished more. In
a tract written against the abuses of the church in his time, he calls
the venerators of martyrs and reliques, ‘‘ ashes-worshippers and idola-
ters.” ? He represents it as supremely ridiculaus to manifest such ven-
eration, nay, adoration of a miserable heap of ashes and wretched
bones ; to cover them under costly drapery, and kiss them.+4
In answer to this reproach of worshipping the martyrs, Jerome re-
plies, that Christians were far from intending to pay creatures the
honor which is due to the Creator alone; they so honored the reliques
of the martyrs as to worship Him only of whom the martyrs had borne
testimony. The honor they showed to the servants had reference to
the Master himself, who says, Matth. 10: 40, ‘‘ He that receiveth you,
receiveth me.” But was the thought which Jerome here makes so
prominent actually present to the consciousness of the people in their
veneration of reliques and martyrs ?
When Vigilantius spoke of wretched bones, Jerome could very justly
reply, that the devotion of believers saw and felt somewhat more than
this in them; that, to the eye of faith, there was nothing here which
1 Chrysostom: Καὶ τοῦτο τοῦ τε ϑανα-
τῶσϑαι τὸν ϑάνατον σημείον.
2 Hence may have proceeded the some-
what ignorant zeal which he manifested in
the Origenistic controversies. See below.
8 Cinerarios et idololatras. Hieronym. ep.
109 ad Riparium.
4 Quid necesse est, te tanto honore non
solum honorare, sed etiam adorare illud
VOL. Il. 29
nescio quid, quod in modico vasculo trans-
ferendo colis ? ubicunque pulvisculum nes-
cio quod in modico vasculo pretioso lintea-
mine circumdatum osculantes adorant. Hi-
eronym. c. Vigilant. ὁ 4. The nescio quod
intimates, perhaps, that the bones of some
unknown person were often given out for
reliques.
398 HONORS PAID TO SAINTS. VIGILANTIUS.
was dead; but that, through these, believers looked up to the saints
living with God; that God is, in truth, not the God of the dead, but of
the living.
Vigilantius complained that: the heathen practice of placing lighted
lamps before the images of their gods had been transferred to the mar-
tyrs; that wax tapers were burned during the day-light in the churches
of the martyrs ; 1 — how could they think of honoring those martyrs by |
the light of miserable wax candles, on whom the Lamb in the midst of
God’s throne reflected all the brightness of his majesty? ΤῸ this Je-
rome replies: “‘ Even though some of the laity or pious women might,
in their simplicity, suppose the martyrs were so honored ; yet we are
bound to recognize and to respect the pious feelings evinced, though
they may err in the mode of their expression. Thus Christ approved
the pious feelings of the woman who anointed him, and reproved the
disciples who found fault with ΠΟΥ. Such considerations ought, in-
deed, to teach indulgence towards errors of religious feeling; yet not
the less on this account ought those errors to be censured which might
prove so dangerous to pure Christianity. True, the charity which
seeks out and mdulgently embraces whatever of truth may be lying at
the ground of the error, ought not to fail; and it is only in connection
with this charity that zeal for truth can work rightly; but neither
should the corrective zeal for truth be wanting, if the error must not be
suffered at length wholly to supplant the fundamental truth, and Chris-
tianity to be completely subverted by the unchristian element. Zeal
for truth, actuated by the spirit of love, must operate constantly as a cor-
rective and refining energy in the life of the church, if its divine founda-
tion is to be preserved pure and entire.
Vigilantius inveighed, also, against the nocturnal assemblies (the
vigils) held in the churches of the martyrs; asserting, what his antag-
onist Jerome could not deny, that these assemblies, in which both the
sexes participated, frequently served as a pretext and as an occasion
for gross immoralities. He seems also to have thought it unbefitting
that the vigils— which, according to ancient usage, were a distinctive
feature of the Easter festival — should be transferred to the festival of
the martyrs. He inveighed next against the reliance placed on the in-
tercessions of the martyrs. ‘* According to the holy scriptures,” says
he, ‘‘ the living only should mutually pray for each other.” To this
Jerome replies, that, if the apostles and martyrs in this earthly life, be-
fore they had yet come safely out of the conflict, were able to pray for
others, how much more could they do so after they had obtained the
victory. But what word of scripture bids the faithful call upon such
departed saints to be their intercessors, as it invites the living to mu-
tual intercession for each other, in the fellowship of love ?
As an argument against such invocations, Vigilantius affirms that the
martyrs could not be present wherever they were invoked, to hear men’s
petitions, and to be ready to succor them. Here he may have con-
ceived of the habitation of the blessed spirits after a manner somewhat
1 Prope vitium gentilium videmus sub pretextu religionis introductum in ecclesiis, sole
adhuc fulgente moles cereorum accendi.
HONOR PAID TO MARY. 339
confined and local, and possibly may have taken various figurative ex-
pressions of the New Testament in too material and literal a sense.}
On the other hand, Jerome asserts of the glorified saints, that they fol-
low the Lamb whithersoever he goes, Rev. 14: 4. If, then, the Lamb
is everywhere present, so must we believe that they also who are with
the Lamb are everywhere present; thus the faithful are, in spirit, every-
where present with Christ. Both Vigilantius and Jerome, although in
opposite ways, were for knowing too much respecting those things of a
higher world which are hidden from the eye of man, and of which he
cannot judge by the forms of his earthly perception.
When the miracles said to have been wrought at the graves of martyrs,
and by their reliques, were alleged in defence of the propriety and great
importance of honoring them, we do not find that Vigilantius took much
pains to examine into the credibility of these reports, but he simply op-
posed to this prevailing passion for the miraculous, the Christian princi-
ple of judgment respecting miracles. ‘ The Christian who is certain
of his faith,’”’ says he, ‘‘ neither seeks nor asks for miracles; nor does
he need them. Miracles were wrought, not for the believing, but for
the unbelieving.”” Perhaps Vigilantius intended, by so saying, to have
it understood, on the one hand, that those who were seeking miracles
from the martyrs showed, by this very circumstance, how far removed
they were from the genuine Christian spirit, and on the other, that, in
the main, these pretended miracles were nothing but a delusion ; for, as
the end for which all miracles were performed no longer existed in the
minds of believers, miracles ought, among Christians, no longer to be
admitted.
This extravagant, superstitious tendency manifested itself also partic-
ularly in the worship of the virgin Mary. The ascetic spirit venerated
in Mary the ideal of the unmarried life ; the name, ‘‘ mother of God,”
(ϑεοτόκος,) which it had become the custom to apply to her ever since
the last times of the fourth century, and which afterwards became the
occasion of so many controversies, — this name itself might, by a natu-
ral misconstruction of the people, contribute some share towards the
deification of Mary. Among a small sect of women, who came from
Thrace and settled down in Arabia, the superstition had already ad-
vanced to an idolatrous worship of the virgin Mary ; a practice univer-
sally condemned, it is true, by the church. They looked upon them-
selves as the priestesses of Mary. On a set day, consecrated to her as
a festival, they conveyed about in chariots, (δίφροι,) similar to those used
by the Pagans in religious processions, cakes or wafers consecrated to
Mary, (κολλύριδες, κολλύρια, hence their name κολλυριδιάνιδες, Collyridianians, )
which they presented as offerings to her, and then ate themselves. It
would seem that this was a transfer of the oblations at the Lord’s sup-
per to the worship.of Mary, the whole taking the shape of a pagan cer-
emony. ‘The truth, perhaps, was,” that a corruption was here introduced
1 We perceive here the advocate of the subter aram Dei animas apostolorum et
grossly literal interpretation of the Bible, martyrum consedisse.
the opponent of Origen, when he says: Vel 2 A conjecture of bishop Miinter of
in sinu Abrahz vel in loco refrigerii vel Seeland.
940 HONOR PAID TO MARY. HELVIDIUS.
from the pagan worship of Ceres, that the customary bread-offerings at
the heathen feast of the harvest, (Thesmophoria,) in honor of Ceres,
had been changed for such offerings in honor of Mary. The excessive
veneration of Mary had, as a further consequence, however, to call
forth still more violent opponents; and these seem to have been antag-
onists, at the same time, of the one-sided ascetic tendency which chose
Mary as its ideal. This controversy grew more particularly out of a
disputed question of ‘history and exegesis. Many teachers of the
church had, in the preceding period, maintaimed that by the brethren of
Jesus, mentioned in the New Testament, were to be understood the later
born sons of Mary. But the ascetic spirit, and the excessive venera-
tion of Mary, were now shocked at the renewal of this opinion. Thus it
came about that, at the close of the fourth century, a layman of Rome,
by the name of Helvidius, destitute, as it would seem, of a regular theo-
logical education, supposed that in the New Testament he found reasons
for this opinion, while at the same time he appealed to the authority of
Tertullian and Victorinus of Petavio. He affirmed, also, that by this
opinion he in nowise infringed on the honor of Mary ; and he was thus -
led to attack also the exaggerated opinion of the unmarried life. He
quoted the examples of the patriarchs, who had maintained a pious life
in wedlock; while, on the other hand, he referred to the examples of
such virgins as had by no means lived up to their calling. These opin-
ions of Helvidius might lead us to conclude, that the combating of a one-
sided ascetic spirit was a matter of still more weight with him than the
defence of his views with regard to Mary. Perhaps, also, he may have
been led into these views simply by exegetical inquiries and observa-
tions, and so had been drawn into this opposition to the over-valuation
of celibacy, merely for the purpose of defending his opinion against an
objection on the score of propriety.
But when we consider, that at the very time when Helvidius appear-
ed at Rome, the presbyter Jerome, by his extravagant encomiums on the
unmarried and his depreciation of the married life, was creating there
a great sensation, and, by his extreme statements, giving every provo-
cation which, according to the common course of things, would be likely
to call forth opposition from the other side; it seems more probable,
that both Helvidius and Jovinian were excited by this very counter-ac-
tion of their own polemical efforts, although, in the case of the latter, the
opposition doubtless was based on a deeper inward ground, in the whole,
connected system of his Christian faith. Jerome wrote against Helvid-
ius, to whom, in scientific culture and erudition, he was confessedly
superior, with all the violence and heat which characterized him.
Among these opponents of the reigning opinion belongs also another
contemporary, Bonosus, a bishop, probably of Sardica, in Illyria, against
whose views several synods, as well as the bishops, Ambrose of Milan,
and Siricius of Rome, protested.1
1§ee the letter to Anysius, bishop of _ tially false doctrine. The latter says: Hoe
Thessalonica, probably written by the Ro- tantum sacrilegium— and we see if was
man bishop, Siricius. Both Siricius and nothing but the ascetic spirit which attrib-
Ambrose held this opinion to be an essen- uted so much importance to this dispute —
PILGRIMAGES. 341
The idolatrous veneration of the virgin Mary, in Arabia, of which we
have just spoken, was probably the occasion also of the same views be-
ing advanced by many, whom the blind zealot Epiphanius denominates
enemies of Mary, (ἀντιδικομαριανίται.)
In the preceding period, we already noticed the devotion with which
places in Palestine consecrated by religious remembrances were regard-
ed and sought out by the Christians. The tendency towards the out-
ward, in the religious spirit of these times, must have contributed to
increase the veneration for these monuments of sacred history. Espe-
cially since the empress Helena and other members of the Constantine
family had been so eager to visit these spots, and had decorated them
with magnificent churches, the number of pilgrims began greatly to
multiply. Chrysostom says, that from all quarters of the earth men
flock to see the places where Christ was born, where he suffered and
was buried.1 Emperors made pilgrimages to the. tomb of the apostle
Peter in Rome, and before they visited it, laid aside all their imperial
insignia, in memory of this hero of the faith. Even the memory of Job
drew many pilgrims to Arabia, to see the dung-heap and to kiss the
earth on which the man of God had suffered with such resignation.?
Very justly did it appear a great thing to Chrysostom, that, while the
monuments of earthly glory were overlooked, the places, in themselves
inconsiderable, consecrated by nothing but the remembrances of relig-
ion, should be searched out, after hundreds and thousands of years, by
the common devotion; and very properly might he say, that great
profit could be derived from visiting those spots, from the recollections
and thoughts which they suggested, while the sight of imperial magnifi-
cence left but a transient impression. It was in consonance with a
deep-seated feeling of human nature, that these places should possess a
peculiar worth for the Christian heart. The only mischief was when
too great stress was laid on these sensible and outward means of excit-
ing devotion, since they usually made a momentarily all-absorbing and
transitory, rather than a deep and lasting impression ; although certainly
some allowance should be made here for the different temperaments of
southern and northern races of men. The effect was especially disas-
trous, when men began to attribute to these visits to holy places, in
themselves considered, a sanctifying and justifying power. And it must
be allowed that this would very soon happen, since men so easily in-
clined to overlook the inward grace in the outward form, the end in the
means. Yet even here, a remarkable opposition of the pure evangeli-
cal spirit manifested itself against the sensual tendency. Thus Jerome
declared ὃ that ‘‘ the places of the crucifixion and of the resurrection of
Christ profited those only who bore their own cross, and rose each day
cum omnes ad cultum virginitatis 5. Marie
advocentur exemplo. De institutione vir-
ginis, c. V. § 35.
1 Exposit. in Psalm. 109, ὁ 6, T. V. 259.
‘H οἰκουμένη συντρέχει. In Matth. He Vi!
§2. ‘Ano τῶν “περάτων. τῆς γῆς ἔρχονται,
ὀψόμενοι τὴν φάτνην καὶ τῆς καλύβης τὸν
τόπον.
VOL. II. 20"
2 Chrysostom. Homil. V. de stutuis, § 1,
Τ. 11. p. 59. Πολλοὶ viv μακράν τινα καὶ
διαπόντιον ἀποδημίαν. στέλλονται ἀπὸ τῶν
περάτων τῆς γῆς εἰς τῆν ᾿Αραβίαν τρέχοντεζ,
iva τὴν κόπριαν. ἐκείνην ἰδῶσι καὶ ϑεασάμενοι
καταφιλησώσι τὴν γῆν.
3 Ep. 49 ad Paulin.
942 PILGRIMAGES. ARIUS.
with Christ ; but those who said ‘ The temple of the Lord, the temple of
the Lord,’ should hearken to the apostle, ‘Ye are the temple of the
Lord, the Holy Spirit dwells within you.’ Heaven stands open to us
in Britain, as well as in Jerusalem; the kingdom of God should be
within ourselves.” He relates, that the venerable monk Hilarion, in
Palestine, had visited the holy places but once in his life, although he
lived in their vicinity, so that he might not give countenance to the ex- "Ὁ
aggerated veneration of them. And Gregory of Nyssa said (ep. ad
Ambrosium et Basilissam:) ‘‘ Change of place brings God no nearer.
Wherever thou art, God will visit thee, if the mansion of thy soul is
found to be such that he can dwell and rule in thee. But if thou hast
thy inner man full of wicked thoughts, then, whether thou art on Gol-
gotha, on the Mount of Olives, or at the monument of the crucifixion,
thou art still as far from having received Christ into thy heart, as if
thou hadst never confessed him.” The moral corruption which pre-
vailed in these very regions, beyond what was the case in any other
country, he very justly cites as a proof of the little influence which
those impressions on the senses could of themselves have on the sancti-
fication of the heart.
Thus, throughout this entire section, we perceive still going on, the
conflict between the original, free and purely Christian spirit, directed
to the worship of God in spirit and in truth, and the encroaching,
sensuous, half-Jewish and half-pagan spirit, which would rob the inner
man of the liberty achieved for him by Christ, and make him a slave
to outward, earthly things, and to the maxims of this world.
In concluding this section, we may bring forward another witness of
this struggle, who appeared as an opponent of various novel tendencies
of the church life, even of such as had their origin in the preceding
period. This was /Mrius, a youthful friend of that Eustathius, bishop
of Sebaste, in Arminia, whom we have already mentioned. When Eus-
tathius was made bishop, he placed his friend, as presbyter, over a
house of paupers. But subsequently to this, Arius fell into a quarrel
with the bishop. He accused him of not remaining true to the ascetic
life, which had originally brought them together, and of being too much
interested in the acquisition of earthly property : —Whether the fact
was that Eustathius deserved this reproach, or that /Hrius, owing to the
strength of his prejudices, did him injustice, and would make no allow-
ance for the change of conduct to which he was impelled by his office
and the wants of the church placed under his care. Probably also he had
been drawn into disputes with his bishop respecting the proper adminis-
tration of ecclesiastical affairs; against whom he advocated the equality
of bishops and presbyters, according to the original system of church
polity. As evidence of this he brought the fact, that presbyters as
well as bishops baptized and consecrated the elements of the holy sup-
per. Finally, he became the author of a schism, and attacked various
usages of the dominant church. He inveighed against the practice of
attaching value to intercessions and to the celebration of the eucharist
as an offering for the dead. If such an ordinance could help the de-
parted to bliss, there would be no need of moral efforts in the present
ARIUS AND HIS PARTY. 843
life ; it would only be necessary for each to make or purchase for him-
self friends, who could be induced to pray and offer the oblation of the
supper in his behalf. (See above.) It is worthy of notice, that, although
an ascetic, he was opposed to the laws regulating fasts, and to the con-
fining of fasts to set times, as Wednesday, Friday, the Quadrigesima,
and Good-Friday. All this, he maintained, ought to be done according
to the spirit of the gospel, with freedom, according to the inclinations
and necessities of each individual. He found fault with the ordinances
of the church on this point, because they had substituted the yoke of a
Jewish bondage to the law, in place of the gospelliberty. He disputed,
moreover, the custom of celebrating the passover, which, handed down
from more ancient times, was still observed in these parts of Asia.!
By the sufferings of Christ, that which this type foreshadowed was ful-
filled once for all. Sucha celebration was, in his opinion, a confounding
of Jewish rites with Christian. It is easy to see, that the spiritual bent
of Arius required a total separation of Christian ordinances and doc-
trines from Jewish.
The hierarchical sentiment occasioned violent persecutions against
7®rius and his party. Driven from all quarters, they were often oblig-
ed to hold their assemblies in the open fields, in groves and on the
mountains.”
1 See vol. 1, sect. 2, p. 522. 2 The principal authority, heres. 75.
SECTION FOURTH.
HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY APPREHENDED AND DEVELOPED AS A
SYSTEM OF DOCTRINES.
I. GENERAL INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.
This period introduced important changes as well in the evolution
of the conceptions of Christian doctrine as in other branches of Christ-
ian development. The change proceeding from outward relations, which
formed the groundwork of this new period, was not, it is true, so im-
mediately connected with that which, by its very nature, must take its
outward shape from a power residing within. But, in tracing the course
of development of human nature, no single branch can be contemplated
without some reference to the others; much rather do all stand in a
relation of mutual action and counteraction... Changes having their be-
ginning from without extend their influence also to the inner world ;
and seldom does an important revolution take place in outward relations,
until the way for its transforming influence has been prepared in the
more inward development. This was particularly true with reference
to the influence on the inward development of doctrines, produced by
the great change which had taken place in the outward relations of the
church since the time of Constantine. For the effects which actually
resulted from this influence, the way had long since been prepared by the
course of development within the church itself. It was not all at once
and through the influence of an external force, that the Christian doctrine
was first delivered from the struggle with Judaism and Paganism ; but
the development of the Christian doctrine in intelligent consciousness
had, of itself, so far pushed on its way triumphantly, through the oppo-
sitions of Judaism and Paganism, that these were forced to retire, when
now the peculiar essence of Christianity, as a whole, and as it appeared
in its several great doctrines, had come to be more clearly and distinctly
apprehended by means of the conflict with these antagonists.
The agreement in the essentials of Christianity, expressed in the
struggle against those heresies which sprung up out of impure com-
mixtures of Judaism or Gentilism, continued from the preceding period
into the present. In the mean time, however, notwithstanding the
agreement in essentials, various germs of opposition in respect to the
mode of apprehending particular Christian doctrines had sprung up;
as indeed we observed to be the case in the preceding period. These
might, at first, subsist peacefully side by side, while fellowship as to
the essentials of Christianity still overbalanced the individual peculiari-
ties arising out of different modes of apprehension, and the common
opposition to those tendencies of spirit which appeared in the struggle
against the peculiar doctrines of Christianity, diverted men’s attention
from these subordinate differences. But it lay in the very essence
a
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 845
of human nature, that the germs of these oppositions shoulu ever pro-
ceed to unfold and shape themselves into a more distinct form of sub-
sistence. But the common opposition to the Jewish and Judaizing, to
the pagan and paganizing spirit, having begun to relax; the church,
delivered from the hostile tendencies which assailed her from without,
being left more entirely to herself; it now happened, that those differ-
ences in the mode of conceiving individual doctrines, unfolded to down-
right opposition, came into conflict with each other. According to the
regular course of the development of human nature, it could not well
happen otherwise. ‘The process of development, once begun, could not
stand still: as human nature is constituted, the harmonious apprehen-
sion of Christianity in all its parts, could only proceed out of these op-
posite views of doctrine. If the entire substance of humanity, in
thought as well as in life, was to be thoroughly pervaded by Christian-
ity, it must necessarily enter also into these oppositions. But the mel-
ancholy fact was, indeed, the same here as often recurs in the history
of the church ;— that, amid these oppositions, the unity of Christian
consciousness, which embraced and included them all, could be wholly
forgotten; that each party apprehended and judged the opposite views
of the other, only from its own particular position ; and, contemplating
them from without, instead of entering into their principles and exam-
ining them according to their internal coherence and connection, charg-
ed them with consequences which lay utterly remote from them. Thus
to each of the contending doctrinal parties, the struggle for their own
peculiar modes of apprehension seemed identical with the struggle for
Christianity itself. Had men but clearly seized, and fixed in their own
consciousness, the exact relation of the specylative system of faith to
the life of faith, and the relation of the single Christian doctrines to
that which constitutes the peculiar and essential foundation of the gos-
pel, to the doctrine concerning Christ as the Redeemer of mankind, the
whole would have turned out otherwise. The oppositions, which often
existed only in the speculative mode of apprehending doctrines, would
not have been able to disturb and break up the fellowship and unity of
the Christian consciousness ; and a peaceful mutual understanding
would have soon taken the place of oppositions rigidly set over against,
and mutually excluding each other.
But — as men were not prepared to acknowledge that different specu-
lative modes of apprehending doctrines might subsist side by side, pro-
vided only that the unity in the fundamental essence of Christianity
was also held fast in the speculative conception —it was attempted to
bind the unity of Christian consciousness to a unity of speculative ap-
prehension, excluding all differences ; and hence the effort after a nar-
row and narrowing uniformity, which would force all the different bents
and tendencies of mind under one yoke, and which must necessarily
check the free and natural evolution of the Christian system of faith,
and thereby, in the end, of the Christian life of faith itself.
Still more hurtful was the course taken by these doctrinal controver-
sies when disturbed by the interference, especially in the East Roman
empire, of a foreign power, — namely, that of the state, — which hindered
846 DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
the free development and the free expression of the different opposite
opinions. Owing to this, the purely dogmatic interest of the controver-
5168 was oftentimes extremely vitiated by the intermixture of a foreign
secular interest and foreign secular passions. Not unfrequently did it
happen, that the opposite views of doctrine, which, after being develop-
ed outwardly from within, had already proceeded to such extént, indeed,
as to be prepared for collision with each other, were first called forth
into actual collision by outward, foreign occasions, arising out of the
confusion of ecclesiastical with political matters. And the consequence
of this was, that, from the very first, a foreign interest was superinduced,
which increased the difficulty of arriving at a mutual understanding, and
disturbed the pure course of development. In remarking this, however,
many too superficial observers have been led falsely to suppose, that
these disputes were due solely to their outward occasions, and to the con-
flict of passions; when the truth is, that the outward occasions could
only call forth what had long since been prepared in the course of de-
velopment within the church itself ; as in fact we saw, when we traced
the incipient germs of these oppositions in the preceding period, and as
will be still more clearly shown in detail, when we come to consider
their progressive movement in the period before us. The interference of
that foreign power might, moreover, for certain transient periods of time,
bring about some other result of the controversies, than that which cor
responded to the natural relation of the conflicting elements to each
other ; but such results, forced on from without, could not, as the his
tory of their doctrinal controversies shows, be anything permanent:
The theological spirit of that portion of the church on which such re
sults were forced, was moved to resist them, and the foreign element
was spurned away again, though not without a violent struggle.
The different dogmatic tendencies of spirit, which in the preceding
period could unfold and express themselves with some degree of univer:
sality and completeness, now presented themselves, for the most part;
in a more precise and definite shape, in controversies about single doc-
trines, — and, as a general thing, did not proceed to unfold themselves
in wider compass and with more logical consistency. or this reason,
the controversies about single doctrines also furnish us with the most
important help towards understanding the different general tendencies
of the dogmatic spirit. While, in the preceding period, the conflict of
universal spiritual tendencies fully carried out, in the oppositions of Ju-
daism, of Gnosticism, of the Roman church tendency, of Montanism,
and of the Alexandrian tendency, predominated ; in the present period,
on the other hand, the oppositions manifested themselves rather in the
history of single doctrines, than in the tendencies of the dogmatic spirit
generally. Had the universal ground-tendencies which lay at the
foundation of the controversies respecting single doctrines, been allowed
to express themselves in their entire compass, this circumstance would
have been attended with very important consequences, affecting the en-
tire development of Christianity.
Amidst the doctrinal controversies of this period, the characteristic
difference between the tendency of the dogmatic spirit in the Eastern
GREEK AND LATIN CHURCHES. 347
and in the Western church became apparent, while, at, the same time, it
went on to shape itself into a more precise and determinate form. In
the Eastern church, the Greek mobility of intellect and speculative
direction of thought predominated. In the Western church, the more
rigid and calm, the less mobile but more practical tendency of the Ro-
man spirit prevailed.1 Hence it happened, that while, in the Eastern
church, the development of doctrines had to pass through the most
various forms of opposition before they could come to any quiet adjust-
ment, the result to which the Eastern church first arrived, after mani-
fold storms and conflicts, was, in a certain sense, anticipated by the
church of the West; and she:subsequently appropriated to herself the
accurate definitions of doctrine which had been devised in the Eastern
church from the conflict of opposite parties.
In the next place, the doctrinal controversies of the Eastern church
sprung out of the speculative theology, although at the same time there
was also an interest for practical Christianity at bottom. But the only
doctrinal controversy belonging properly to the Western church took
its beginning from that which constitutes the central point of all prac-
tical Christianity, anthropology in its connection with the doctrine of
redemption.
All the doctrinal controversies of the Eastern church stand closely
connected, as the following exhibition of them will show, with the con-
troversy about the speculative mode of apprehending and defining the
doctrine of the Trinity. This was fraught with very important conse-
quences on the peculiar direction of the system of faith in both churches.
As it had already happened, in the preceding period, that, in the doc-
trine of the Trinity, the form of speculative apprehension and the essen-
tial, practically Christian, object-matter, had been too much confounded ;
as the custom had been to apprehend this doctrine in too isolated a
way,— not enough in its vital connection with the doctrine of redemp-
tion, in the right connection with which it can alone have its true sig-
nificancy ; so the course taken by the doctrinal controversies in the
Greek church contributed still more to establish and confirm this method
of treating the doctrine of the Trinity. And hence it came about, that,
in the Greek church, the whole system of faith was built on a founda-
1 This difference between the two churches
was rightly perceived by Greek theologians,
as early as the twelfth century, and made
use of as an argument in defending the
Greek church against the reproach, that all
the heresies had sprung out of her bosom.
See the remarks of Nicetas, archbishop of
Nicomedia, in Anselm. Havyelbergem. Dia-
logg. 1. III. ec. XI. D’Achery spicileg. T. I.
f. 197. Quoniam nova et pluribus inaudita
fides subito publice praedicabatur, et in hac
civitate studia liberalium artium vigebant,
et multi sapientes in logica et in arte dialec-
tica subtiles in ratione disserendi przevale-
bant, cceperunt fidem Christianam disseren-
do examinare et examinando et ratiocinando
deficere. Next, to the vana sapientia, by
which the Greek false teachers had suffered
themselves to be misled, is opposed the
simplicitas minus docta of the Romans,
which is derived vel ex nimia negligentia
inyestigandz fidei, vel ex grassa tarditate
hebetis ingenii, vel ex occupatione ac mole
secularis impedimenti. So far as the intel-
lectual phenomena of different times admit
of being compared, we might find some
analogy in the relation existing between
the theological development among the Germans
and the English; but with this difference,
so important in its bearing on the result,
that in Germany, the more active intellec-
tual life has not been checked and hampered
in the development of its oppositions by
anything which resembles Byzantine despo-
tism.
348 DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
tion too entirely speculative ; that matters of philosophy and matters
pertaining to the system of faith were too frequently jumbled together ;
that speculative definitions with regard to the divine essence were held
to be just the most important; and that so much the less interest was
taken, therefore, in that which is the most important thing for practical
Christianity in the true sense, namely, with Christian anthropology, in
its connection with the doctrine of redemption ; and the doctrines bearing
on this subject were held to be of inferior importance.)
Since, then, the systematic theology of the Greeks placed at the cen-
tre of its system a certain speculative form of apprehending Christian
truth, a certain speculative definition of the Christian idea of God,
rather than that which constitutes the natural centre of the whole Chris-
tian life; the consequence was, that doctrines of faith and doctrines of
practice could not be evolved from a common centre, and hence the
vital organic connection between the two could not be fairly presented
to the conscious apprehension, and so a system of legal morality grew
up by the side of an excessively metaphysical, cold, and lifeless system
of faith. Thus the adoption of a wrong method in treating the doc-
trines of faith must exert an influential reaction also on Christian life
itself.
It was otherwise in the church of the West. The only doctrinal
controversy which properly had its origin in this church, related to
Christian anthropology in its connection with the doctrine of redemp-
tion. Owing to this circumstance, systematic theology here received
at once its peculiar practical direction, and the inner connection be-
tween doctrines of faith and of practice was clearly presented to con-
sciousness ; — and the honor of bringing about this result belongs pre-
eminently to Augustin, the man who bore the most distinguished part
in the controversy above mentioned.
The most significant phenomenon in the general history of the system
of faith, and one whose influence reached from the preceding period
1 Thus Gregory of Nazianzen names,
among the subjects discussed in the public
teaching of those times, the question wheth-
er there was but one world or whether there
were many worlds; the questions, what is
matter, what is soul and spirit; questions
about the different kinds of higher spirits,
(ὅσα περὶ κόσμων ἢ κόσμου πεφιλοσοφῆται,
περὶ ὕλης, περὶ ψύχης, περὶ νοῦ καὶ νοέρων
φύσεων.) and having spoken next of the ap-
pearance and sufferings of Christ, he names
as the principal thing, (τὸ κεφαλαίον,) the
doctrine of the Trinity, (see his orat. I.
f. 16,) although this doctrine surely derives
its Christian importance only from its con-
nection with that doctrine which Gregory
represents as a subordinate one; although
entire Christianity starts not from a specu-
lative doctrine concerning the Divine Being,
but from the actual revelation of God, as a
fact in history. In another place, he speaks,
it is true, as he frequently does elsewhere,
against those who made the investigation
of Christian truth to consist merely in spec-
ulating on the doctrine of the Trinity; and
warns against the tendency which seeks to
determine too much concerning the essence
of the Godhead, — a subject, the full know-
ledge of which is reserved for the future
life; but then he names in connection, as
subjects on which men might employ their
thoughts more profitably, and in which also
there was no danger of going astray, (τὸ
διαμαρτώνειν ἀκίνδυνον.) the φιλοσοφεῖν rept
κόσμοι ἢ κόσμων, περὶ ὕλης, περὶ ψύχης, περὲ
λογίκων φυσέων βελτιόνων τε καὶ χειρόνων,
περὶ αναστάσεως, κρίσεως, ἀνταποδόσεως,
χρίστου παϑημάτων. Orat. 33, f. ὅ86.. An
error in respect to the relation of Christ’s
sufferings to the work of redemption,
seemed to him, then, less dangerous, than
an error in respect to the relation to one
another of the hypostases in the Trinity.
It is worthy of notice, also, that nothing
occurs here which has any bearing whatev-
er on the distinguishing character of Chris-
tian anthropology.
INFLUENCE OF ORIGEN’S SCHOOL. 349
over into the present, was the struggle betwixt the speculative spirit of
Origen’s school, and the opposite tendency of practical realism. ‘True,
at Alexandria itself, the spirit of this school did not maintain itself as
one vigorously working onward in its wide embracing compass, and with
its whole vital energy. The catechetical school at Alexandria was no
longer such as it had been under Clement and Origen. Didymus, the
last and the only distinguished teacher of this period, wanted the origi-
nal and profound intellect of Origen, wonderful as was the erudition
which this person, blind from his earthly youth, had found means to
store up in his mind. Only one thing peculiar to the spiritual ten-
dency of Origen passed over to the Alexandrian church as a whole.
The contemplative, mystical, and, in part, speculative element continued
to be cherished there; and out of this the peculiar dogmatic character
of that church gradually formed itself; but Origen’s free and enlarged
spirit of inquiry vanished away from it. Origen’s greatest influence, on
the other hand, proceeded from his writings, which had no small share
in forming the minds of some of the most eminent church-teachers of
the East, who were distinguished in the doctrinal controversies for their
free spirit and their theological moderation. Such were Eusebius of
Czesarea, and the great church-teachers of Cappadocia, Gregory of
Nazianzen, Basil of Czsarea, and his brother Gregory of Nyssa, on
whose strong mind the speculative spirit of Origen had a very great
influence.
In general, though the realism of the church spirit offered a counter-
poise to the speculative spirit of Origen’s school, and though many of
Origen’s peculiar ideas were universally rejected; partly such as the
development of the theological spirit in these times was not ripe enough
to receive, and partly such as had grown out of a combination of Pla-
tonism with Christianity, and which were really foreign from the essence
of the gospel; yet the school of Origen had served, in this struggle, to
introduce, throughout the entire church, a more spiritual mode of ap-
prehending the system of faith, and to purge it everywhere of a crude
anthropomorphism and anthropopathism, and of the sensuous notions of
Chiliasm. And in the treatment of the most weighty single doctrines
we may discern the after-working of the influence of that great church-
teacher on the development of antagonisms which made their appear-
ance in the fourth century, as will be more particularly shown in the
history of those controversies.
As Platonism had been chiefly employed by the Alexandrian school
in giving shape to Christian theology, and as the philosophical character
of this school had been formed under the influence of Platonism, so this
peculiar form of the scientific spirit continued to be the prevailing
one with all those in the Greek church who made it their special object
to obtain a scientific understanding of the system of faith. It was only
the narrow dogmatism of the understanding which sprung from Euno-
mius, that sought wholly to suppress the element of Platonism. Had
this latter succeeded in its struggle, a complete revolution would have
been brought about in the system of faith. But the three great church-
teachers of Cappadocia, who had been formed in the school of Origen,
VOL. II.
850 DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
‘took strong and decided ground against this whole new tendency. We
“shall treat’ more particularly of this struggle hereafter, in relating the
‘history of ddctrinal controversies.
“A tiéw iiixtare of Platonism with Christianity, independent of Origen,
“in which, moreover, the Platonic predominated in a far greater measure
“over the Chiristiaa element, is seen in the case of Synesius of Cyrene,
‘afterwards’ bishop’of Ptolemais, the metropolitan town of Pentapolis, ἡ
“in thé’ early tities‘of the fifth century. We have here a remarkable
“exeinplificatiow of ‘the manner in which a transition might be gradually
bade fyori'fundaniéntat ideas of the religious consciousness, conceived
“under ‘th® form of: Platonism, to Christianity. But we see, also, how a
‘transformation of Christian doctrines into mere symbols of Platonic ideas
“might be brought‘about in'the same way. Precisely as, in earlier times,
“€see vol. FE sect. 1; 'p.-34,) this Platonism had attached itself to the
“pagan ‘cultis;’and to the ‘hierarchical system of Paganism, out of which
“combination arose a’ mysti¢o-theurgical system of religion; so a similar
pheéiionenon under the Christian form, might arise out of a combination
‘of Platoitisin with the ‘domisiant'teligion of the church. The false no-
ΤΟΝ of the priesthood, by ‘which it was represented as a mediatory
Orgiin' betweeli‘hedvén'and earth, between God and man, as a vehicle for
‘the conveyancé' of heavetily powers to'the earth, as man’s representative
“before God; the ‘falsé notion, ‘connected with this other, of the sacra-
ments, as the bearers of those heavenly powers —all this might easily
‘be’laid Hold of as a basis fortheurgical mysteries. A theurgical sys-
tem, or mystical symbolism’ of ‘this ‘sort, formed out a mixture of Chris-
‘tianity: and “Platonism} we find ‘completely elaborated in the writings
‘forged under the'name‘of Dionysius the Areopagite, which might have
been composed some time in the course ofthe fifth century.
*-OPheé iiifluetice 6f Origen had’ been very great,‘also, in giving form and
‘direction to‘ thorough exegetical study of the seriptures with all the
‘helps of Jearning.°' ‘This -method, in truth, was first called into exist-
‘ence by him; in opposition’ to a crass, literal interpretation of the Bible.
Phe exegetical ‘bent οὗ “ἃ Eusebius of Caesarea and: of a Jerome, the
‘latter of whom’ was' the first‘‘to/ereate’an-interést! in'the more thorough
‘method -of “studyin® thée“seriptares ‘incthesWestermehurch, had been
‘fitst‘awakened by -Otigert. Bat by the introduction of ‘this speculative
‘principles; “and Byhis alle gorizing ‘tendency, which was inipart owing to
this fondness for speculation, the free developménteof?that exegetical
method, “énd!thé anbiisied application of itto the exposition of the sys-
‘tem of faithyhads iat Origen’s own Case; beet greatly hindered: Up to
this timé there had “existed onlylthe opposite"extremes of thati’érass lit
“etal method: of biblical’ interpretation, ‘and this urbitrary:alléoefizing
‘tendenéy2 But alveady; at‘ thecelose*of’ the! preceding period pxKe ob-
séived hol a-gtanthatical anil logicakawethod of interpreting the Bible,
“holding tie medi between tliese two-extremes) had: becun'te beformed
-under ‘the irection-of the “An tiwchiay charch-teacherse2 The bevinhings
‘of this téidency were still farther developed by distinguished tmen in
“the fourth Gedtury ‘and in! the conimericementiof the:fifth 5+ by Busta
“thius, bishop of Afitio¢h ; Eusebius, bishop of Emisajaiu Phosnidias; Dio
rey
aed
THE ANTIOCHIAN EXEGETICAL SCHOOL. 351
dorus, bishop of Tarsus, in Cilicia ; and above all by the sagacious and ~
original Theodore, bishop of Mopsuestia, in the same country. Now as
the Alexandrian church had continued to preserve the allegorizing ten-
dency, it could scarcely fail to happen, as a matter of course, owing to
the great influence which different hermeneutical and exegetical ten-
dencies naturally have on the treatment of the system of faith, that op-
posite tendencies of doctrine would also spring up between the theologi-
cal schools of the two churches. The allegorizing tendency could,
without much difficulty, accommodate itself wholly to the form of the
tradition in the dominant church, and explain the Bible in conformity
therewith. The more unprejudiced, grammatical, and logical interpre-
tation of the Bible would tend, on the other hand, to purge the existing
system of church doctrine of the various foreign elements which had
found entrance through the church tradition, guided as that tradition
had been by no clear consciousness of the truth. The allegorizing in-
terpretation of the Bible was closely connected with that extreme the-
ory of inspiration which made no distinction whatever between essence
and form in the communication of divine things, but regarded every-
thing alike as having come from divine suggestion. The followers of
this mode of interpretation looked upon every word as equally divine ;
they sought mysteries on all sides; they would not admit that there
was any human element to be taken account of; they would not con-
strue this element according to its human individuality of character,
and human origin— would explain nothing by reference to human
modes of apprehension and development. Under the idea of showing
particular respect to the Bible, they undesignedly detracted from its
authority ; because, instead of understanding its human form from the
history of its human-becoming, and of perceiving the divine Spirit re-
vealing itself therein, they explained the whole as a single production
after a system, foreign indeed from the sacred word, but pre-conceived
and pre-established as a divine one by themselves, thus foisting or im-
plying in the Bible what really was not there. Moreover, according to
the above mode of interpretation, no insurmountable difficulties, forcing
men to perceive that such notions of inspiration were untenable, could
occur; for by resort to the mystical sense, (the ἀναγωγῆ εἰς τὸ vontév,)
all difficulties could be easily set aside, all striking discrepancies in the
representation of scriptural facts explained away. On the other hand,
the grammatico-logical interpretation of the Bible must take notice of
the human as well as of the divine element in the sacred scriptures ; in
this case, difficulties would necessarily present themselves, not to be
reconciled with the adoption of those extreme notions of inspiration ;
men must be led to perceive the diversity of human individualities of
character in the style of the inspired writers, — the discrepancies be-
tween historical accounts in particular matters; and the clear percep-
tion of these facts must lead to a different way of apprehending the idea
of inspiration. True, men generally proceeded in this period, as in the
preceding, upon the idea of a divine inspiration of the holy scriptures,
without accurately investigating or defining the idea itself; but still
these differences would, of themselves, ever and anon, distinctly come
302 DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
up to view, although few or none proceeded at once to unfold them in
their whole extent; and although sometimes, even unconsciously, con-
flicting elements of different modes of apprehending the idea of inspira-
tion might practically be united by the same person. ‘The fact is, ac-
cordingly, that we meet with no instances of the more free mode of
apprehending the idea of inspiration in this period, except in those per-
sons who had been led, to it by an unprejudiced, grammatico-logical
interpretation of the Bible, as was the case, for stance, with Jerome,
Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Chrysostom.! The applying of such a
different notion of inspiration to the mvestigation of the scriptures, with
a view to educe from them the system of faith, would also, of itself, lead
to many differences in matters of doctrine. In connection with this
different mode of conceiving the idea of inspiration, there would come
to be fixed also a different point of view, from which to consider the
divine and the human elements in the life of the apostles, and in the
life of Christ himself; since the Antiochian school was led, by the exe-
getical tendency above described, to take up the human along with the
divine, while the Alexandrian school, taking a more partial view of the
matter, gave prominence to the divine element alone. ‘To this we must
add the general difference of intellectual bent in the two schools ; which
difference, again, lay at the root of the other difference between their re-
spective tendencies in exegesis and interpretation. In the Alexandrian
school, an intuitive mode of apprehension, inclining to the mystical; in the
Antiochian, a logical reflective bent of the understanding, predomi-
nated ; although that hearty and sincere Christianity which may con-
sist with every variety of intellectual bent, was not wanting to either.
The first of these tendencies inclined to give prominence to the tran-
scendent, the ineffable, the mcomprehensible side of the divine matter
revealed in Christianity ;? to place by itself the incomprehensible as not
to be comprehended, as an object of faith, and of religious intuition ; to
oppose all attempts at explanation ; and, in order to express this in the
strongest possible manner, it sought after expressions whereby to push
the matter to the utmost extreme, and which were certainly liable to
misconstruction. On the other hand, the Antiochian intelligential bent,
while it was for allowing faith its just due, and would not attempt to
explain the incomprehensible, strove to unfold the matter of revelation
by the understanding, to present it in the clearest form in which it
could be apprehended, and to provide against all possible misapprehen-
sions, (particularly such as might arise from confounding together and
interchanging the divine and the human elements, ) by means of precise
1 As, for example, when Chrysostom says,
Hom. I. in Matth. that differences in the
gospels on matters not essential constituted
no objection to their credibility, but rather
served to place their agreement in essen-
tials in the light of a stronger evidence for
their truth; since thus it would not be al-
leged that their agreement and harmony
was the effect of design. So when Jerome,
commenting on the passage in Gal. 5: 12,
finds no difficulty in supposing, that St. Paul,
in the choice of an expression, is governed
by the vehemence of an emotion, arising,
however, out of a pure temper of heart.
Nec mirum esse, si apostolus, ut homo, et
adhuc vasculo clausus infirmo, vidensque
aliam legem in corpore suo captivantem se
et ducentem in lege peccati, semel fuerit
hoe loquutus, in quod frequenter sanctos
viros cadere perspicimus. ᾿
2. Τὸ ἄῤῥητον͵ το ἄφραστον, τὸ ἀπερινόητον
τοῦ μυστηρίου.
AUGUSTIN. 853
conceptions. Thus arose out of the relation of these two schools to each
other, the most important theological antagonism in the Eastern church,
the effects of which were most decidedly manifested in the doctrinal
controversies. This antagonism would have been attended with still
more important consequences on the theological development, had it
been permitted to go on and express itself in its fullest extent. The
tendency of the Antiochian school is seen in its more moderate form,
and deeply pervaded by the Christianity of the heart, in the case of two
individuals, both of whom present models of biblical interpretation for
the period in which they lived, while one of them furnishes the best pat-
tern of a fruitful homiletic application of the sacred scriptures: these
were Theodoret and Chrysostom. The example of the latter shows par-
ticularly the great advantage of this exegetical tendency, when accom
panied by a deep and hearty Christian feeling, and a life enriched by
inward Christian experience, to any one who would cultivate a talent
for homiletic exposition, and indeed for the whole office of the preacher.
The same important part which Origen had borne in directing the
theological development of the Eastern church, was sustained by Au-
gustin with reference to that of the Western church. His influence
was, in many respects, still more general and long-continued than the
influence of that great father of the church. To remarkable acuteness
and depth of intellect he united a heart filled and thoroughly penetrated
with Christianity, and a life of the most manifold Christian experience.
In system and method, he was doubtless superior to Origen ; but he
wanted the erudite historical culture, for which the latter was distin-
guished. If to his great qualities of mind and heart, he had united
this advantage, he would thereby have been preserved from many a
partially conceived dogma, from many a stiff abstraction pushed to the
utmost extreme, into which he was hurried by his speculative turn of
mind, his rigid systematic consistency, combined with the peculiar di-
rection of his religious feelings.
We xoticed, in the case of the Alexandrian Gnosis, a two fold element ;
the Platonic view of the reciprocal relation between the esoteric, philoso-
phic knowledge of religion and of the symbolical faith of the people, (of
ἐπιστήμη and of δόξα :)ὺ and on the other side, the view derived from the
Christian consciousness of the relation of doctrinal knowledge to faith.
Augustin was the first who clearly separated, in his own consciousness,
these two forms of knowing, and placed the latter above the former.
Augustin’s scientific discipline, as well as Origen’s, came from Platon-
ism; but with this difference, however, that in the case of Origen, the
Platonic element was sometimes confounded with the Christian, and
Christianity subordinated to Platonism. In the case of Augustin, on
the other hand, his theology disentangled itself from Platonism, and the
forms of Christian intuition and thought were expressed in an indepen-
dent manner, and even in opposition to the Platonism from which the
scientific discipline of Augustin’s mind had taken its first direction.
And in connection with this, while in Origen’s case the philosophical
and the dogmatic interest were often confounded, in that of Augustin,
on the other hand, with whom the central point of his inner Christian
VOL. I. 30*
304. DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
life constituted also the central point of his system of faith, the dogmatic
element unfolded itself, in the main, with more purity and independence.
But even in his case, the philosophical interest and element of his spec-
ulative intellect unconsciously mixed in with the Christian and theolo-
gical ; and it was from him that this mixture of elements was transmit-
ted to the scholastic theology of the middle age, which stood in immedi-
ate connection with his own. We see, in Augustin, the facth for which .
the anti-gnostic party had contended, reconciled with the Gnosis which
came from the Alexandrian school. The peculiar training of his life
enables us t understand how he came to occupy this important place
in the devex pment of the system of faith. The transition, in Augus-
tin’s case, from the Platonic philosophy of religion to the peculiar gno-
sis of Christianity, was not a mere speculative change, but a process in
his own life. The development of doctrinal ideas proceeded, in his
case, conformably to the natural order of things, out of his own internal
experience.
Let us recur here, in the first place, toa fact stated in an earlier part of
this history, that a truly pious mother had seasonably scattered the seeds
of Christianity in Augustin’s heart while yet a child. The incipient germs
of his spiritual life were unfolded in the unconscious piety of childhood.
Whatever treasures of virtue and worth, the life of faith, even of a soul
not trained by scientific culture can bestow, was set before him in the
example of his pious mother. The period of childlike, unconscious piety
was followed, in his case, by the period of self-disunion, inward strife
and conflict. For at the age of nineteen, while living at Carthage, he
was turned from the course which a pious education had given him, by
the dissipations and corruptions of that great city. The fire of his im-
petuous nature needed to be purified and ennobled by the power of
religion ; his great but wild and ungoverned energies, after having in-
volved him in many a stormy conflict, must first be tamed and regulat-
ed by a higher, heavenly might, must be sanctified by a higher spirit,
before he could find peace. As it often happens that a human word,
of the present or the past, becomes invested with important meaning
for the life of an individual, by its coincidence with slumbering feelings
or ideas, which are thus called forth at once into clear consciousness, so
it was with Augustin. A passage which he suddenly came across in
the Hortensius of Cicero, treating of the worth and dignity of philosophy,
made a strong impression on his mind. ‘The higher wants of his spirit-
ual and moral nature were in this way at once brought clearly before
him. ‘The true and the good at once filled his heart with an indescrib-
able longing; he had presented to the inmost centre of his soul a
supreme good, which appeared to him the only worthy object of human
pursuit; while, on the other hand, whatever had, until now, occupied
and pleased him, appeared but as vanity. But the ungodly impulses
were still too strong in his fiery nature, to allow him to surrender
himself wholly to the longing which from this moment took possession
of his heart, and to withstand the charm of the vain objects which he
would fain despise and shun. The conflict now began in his soul, which
lasted through eleven years of his life.
AUGUSTIN. 355
As the simplicity of the sacred scriptures possessed no attractions for
his taste —a taste formed by rhetorical studies and the artificial disci-
pline of the declamatory schools ;— especially smce his mind was now
in the same tone and direction with that of the emperor Julian, when
the latter was conducted to the Platonic theosophy ; as, moreover, he
found so many things in the doctrines of the church which, from want
of inward experience, could not be otherwise than unintelligible to him,
while he attempted to grasp by the understanding from without, what
can be understood only from the inner life, from the feeling of in-
ward wants, and one’s own inward experiences ; — so, under these cir-
cumstances, the delusive pretensions of the Manichean sect, which,
instead of a blind belief on authority, held out the promise of clear
knowledge and a satisfactory solution of all questions relating to things
human and divine, presented the stronger attractions to his inexperi-
enced youth. He became a member of that sect, and entered first into
the class of auditors. It was the sum of his wishes, to be received into
the class of the elect, so as to become acquainted with the mysteries of
the sect,— which were the more alluring to his eager thirst for knowl-
edge, by reason of their enigmatical character,—and thus finally at-
tain to the clear light he was so earnestly in pursuit of. But his inter-
views with Faustus, one of the most eminent teachers of this sect, so
entirely baulked his expectations, that, after having spent ten years as
a member of the sect, he was thrown into complete bewilderment. At
length he was fully convinced, that Manicheism was a delusion ; but
from this he was in danger of falling into absolute scepticism, from
which nothing saved him but that faith in God and truth which remain-
ed planted in the deepest recesses of his soul. During this inward
struggle, the acquaintance which he had gained, by means of Latin
translations, with works relating to the Platonic and New-Platonic
philosophy, proved of great service to him. He says himself, that they
enkindled in his mind an incredible ardor.!| They addressed them-
selves to his religious consciousness. Nothing but a philosophy which
addressed the heart,—a philosophy which comcided with the inward
witness of a nature in man akin to the divine,— a philosophy which, at
the same time, in its later form, contained so much that really or seem-
ingly harmonized with the Christian truths implanted in his soul at an
early age ;—nothing but such a philosophy could have possessed such
attractions for him in the then tone of his mind. Of great importance
to him did the study of this philosophy prove, as a transition-point from
scepticism to the clearly developed consciousness of an undeniable ob-
jective truth ;—as a transition-point to the spiritualization of his thoughts,
which had, by means of Manicheism, become habituated to sensible
images ;— as a transition-point from an zmaginative, to an intellectual
direction ;— as a transition-point from Dualism to a consistent Monarch-
ism. He arrived, in this way, first to a religious idealism, that seized
and appropriated to itself Christian elements ; and was thus prepared
1L. II. c. academicos, § 5. Etiam mihi ipsi de me ipso incredibile incendium in me
concitarunt.
3856 DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
to be led over to the simple faith of the gospel. At first, this Platonic
philosophy was his all; and he sought nothing further. It was nothing
but the power of that religion implanted during the season of child-
hood in the deepest recesses of his soul, which, as he himself avowed,
drew him to the study of those writings which witnessed of it. He
argued that, as truth is but one, this religion could not be at variance
with that highest wisdom ; that a Paul could not have led such a glori-
ous life as he was said to have led, had he been wholly wanting in that
highest wisdom. Accordingly, in the outset, he sought in Christianity
only for those truths which he had already made himself acquainted
with from the Platonic philosophy, but presented in a different form.
He conceived of Christ as a prophet, in illumination of mind and _holi-
ness of character exalted, beyond all comparison, above all others; one
who had been sent by God into the world for the purpose of transplant-
ing what, by philosophical investigation, could be known only to a few,
into the general consciousness of mankind, by means of an authoritative
faith. From this point of view, he contrived to explain all the Christ-
ian doctrines on the principles of his Platonic idealism. He imagined
that he understood them, and spoke of them as a master who was
certain of his matter. As he afterwards said himself, he wanted that
which can alone give the right understanding of Christianity ; and
without which, any man will have only the shell of Christianity without
its kernel — the love which is rooted in humility)
But this theory, as it frequently happens with theories, and especially
theories on religious matters erected on some other basis than living ex-
perience, was demolished, in his case, by the energy of life ; for the
Platonic philosophy presented before him, it is true, ideals which ray-
ished the intellectual vision, but could give him no power of obtaining
victory over the flesh. ‘The ideals retreated from him, whenever he
attempted to grasp them: he was continually borne down again by the
ungodly impulses which he thought he had already subdued. As he
was conducted, therefore, by his living experience to an acquaintance
with the want which Christianity alone can satisfy, and without the
feeling of which it cannot be vitally understood, to a knowledge of the
want of redemption from the sense of inward schism; so he found in
Christianity more than he was seeking for in it, having in fact been led to
it chiefly in the way of speculation. The study of St. Paul’s epistles
in particular, which he began in this epoch of his life, made the more
powerful impression on his soul, because so much in the fundamental
idea of these epistles respecting that which is law, spirit, and that
which is flesh, and respecting the conflict between both, connected itself
with his own inner experiences and conflicts, and became clearly
evident to him from them. Much that had been unintelligible to him
before he had made these experiences, he could now understand ; and,
in general, he became better acquainted with Christianity, the more he
found himself at home in it by means of his own inner life, and the
1 As he says himself, in his confessions, velle videri’ sapiens; ubi erat illa caritas,
speaking of this period of his life: Garrie- sdificans a fundamento humilitatis, quod
* bam plane quasi peritus, jam enim ceeperam est Christus Jesus.
AUGUSTIN. 357
more he experienced the sanctifying power of the divine doctrines on
his own soul. Thus, then, by degrees, the relation was completely
reversed: it was no longer the Platonic philosophy which was most
certain to him; and it was no longer barely the prejudice in favor of
the religion of his childhood, which made what had been imparted to
him by that philosophy appear to him under a more familiar and
popular form. But as he had found in Christ his Saviour, so all that
Christ taught him was infallible truth, which required no other confirma-
tion. It was the highest criterion of all truth. He himself had experienced
the power of this doctrine in his inmost soul; and this was to him a
subjective testimony of its divinity and truth. His religious and moral
consciousness was now satisfied; his desire of knowledge alone still
sought satisfaction. He longed to see that what was certain to him by
faith in divine authority and by inward experience, was also true and
necessary on internal grounds; and the means to this were to be fur-
nished him by the Platonic philosophy.!
Now the fact was, that, at this stage of his development, the same thing
happened to him which is so liable to occur in similar cases. He deprived
biblical ideas of their full, peculiar significance, by translating them into
the language of the Platonic philosophy. Thus, for example, he called
the wisdom of this world simply a wisdom which is still entangled in
the forms of sense, which does not elevate itself to zdeas; and the
kingdom of Christ, as not being a kingdom of this world, he styled one
which has its foundation in the world of ideas.2, Nor was this merely a
change of expression, in which nothing was lost to the matter ; but the
form of expression was intimately connected with the ethical point of
view peculiar to this school. Augustin was, at.this time, particularly
inclined to dwell in his thoughts exclusively upon the opposition between
the spiritual world and the world of sense ; — to contemplate the divine
rather as simply opposed to the things of sense and to sensuous appear-
ance, than as opposed to the self-seeking tendency of the spirit ;— to
derive moral evil expressly from man’s propensity to the things of sense
and sensual appearances. Yet by degrees, in proportion as Christianity
penetrated from the inner life through his whole mode of thinking, he
1 Thus he said on entering upon his
thirty-third year, in this very epoch of his
life: Mihi autem certum est, nusquam pror-
sus a Christi auctoritate discedere, non enim
reperio valentiorem. Quod autem subti-
lissima ratione persequendum est —ita enim
jam sum affectus, ut quid sit veram, non
credendo solum, sed etiam intelligendo ap-
prehendere, impaticnter desiderem, —apud
Platonicos me interim, quod sacris nostris
non repugnet—reperturum esse contido.
Ὁ. academicos 1. ITI. § 43.
2 Tn his critical examination of his own
writings, his retractationes, |. I. ¢. III. Au-
gustin himself passes censure on this trans-
lation of the notions of faith into the philo-
sophical language of the Platonic school, in
which he had indulged himself in those
writings which belonged to the epoch of his
life just mentioned, as also in his work de
ordine, 1. I.c. XI. When Christ says, “ My
kingdom is not of this world,” he does not
mean by this the ideal world, (the κόσμος
νοητός.) as opposed to the world of sense,
(the κόσμος αἰσϑητός 3) but rather the world
in which there should be a new heaven and
a new earth, when that came to pass which
we pray for in the words, “Thy kingdom
come.” At the same time we mav notice
the freedom from prejudice with which he
acknowledges that the idea of a mundus in-
telligibilis, in the Platonic sense, by no means
contained in it, absolutely considered, any
unchristian view, but, rightly understood,
was a truth altogether undeniable; the mun-
dus intelligibilis being nothing other than
the eternal, invariable order of the world as
it lies grounded in the divine reason.
858 DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINES.
came to perceive the difference between Platonic and Christian ideas,
and unshackled his system of faith from the fetters of Platonism.
Augustin had learned from his own experience, that, in reference to
the knowledge of divine things, the life must precede the conception ;
that the latter could only come out of the former; for, in truth, the
reason why the simple doctrines of the gospel had, at the beginning,
appeared so foolish to him, and the delusive pretensions of that boastful
mock-wisdom of the. Manicheans had so easily drawn him into its current,
was, that those truths had as yet found no point of union whatever in his
inner life. It was from the life within that he had learned to believe
in these truths, and to understand them. By love for the godlike, by
the power of the religious, moral temper of heart, he had conquered the
scepticism with which he had for a while been threatened. Thus —as
his system of faith was throughout the copy and expression of the
development of his internal life, and hence possessed so much vitality —
it became with him a fundamental idea, that divine things must be
incorporated with the life and the affections, before we can be capable
of an intellectual knowledge of them. While a Manichean, he had
entertained the opinion, that perfection was to be attained by speculative
illumination, by the wisdom of the perfect man. At present, this way
to the knowledge of divine things appeared to him as one which, since
it reversed the natural order of things, must necessarily fail of its end ;1
for it was clear to him, that the perfect knowledge of divine things
presupposed the perfection of the inner man. At present he was con-
vinced, that man must first humbly receive, from a divine authority, the
truth which is to sanctify him, ere he could be sanctified and so fitted
with an enlightened reason for the knowledge of divine things. Although
that could only be revealed to men by divine authority which in its
intrinsic nature was truth, hence also cognizable as true on grounds of
reason,— yet, in the order of time, implicit faith, the faith of authority,
must have the precedence,” as a means of preparation and culture, in
order to a capacity for this knowledge, the process of which is outward
from within. Yet he was still, in some sense, bound up in that view of
Platonism respecting the relation of δόξα to ἐπιστήμη in religion; and as
he perceived, that, without the scientific culture to which but compara-
tively few Christians could attain, that rational knowledge was not
possible, but as without it there seemed to him to be something still
wanting to Christianity ; so he was of the opinion, therefore, that those few
only attained to the real blessedness of this life by Christianity, who com-
bined with it scientific culture. But in proportion as his views became
more clearly unfolded with the progress of his Christian life ; as the life
of faith appeared to him possessed of a loftier nature, from the experience
of his own heart ;? and as he became acquainted with this life among all
1 So he says, in the work de moribus ec- nisi ut eim ipsum, quem cognoscere volu-
clesiz Catholics, 1. I. § 47, in opposition to. mus, prius plena caritate diligamus ?
the Manicheans: Quamobrem videte, quam 2 Augustin. de ordine, 1. II. ο. 9. Tem-
sint perversi atque preposteri, qui sese ar- pore auctoritas, re autem ratio prior est.
bitrantur Dei cognitionem tradere, ut per- 8 This is an important point, also, in its
fecti simus, cum perfectorum ipsa sit pree- bearing on the development of Augustin’s
mium. Quid ergo agendum est, quid quxso, views respecting grace and predestination
AUGUSTIN. 359
conditions and forms of culture, in the same proportion he became
convinced, that reason (ratio) did but unfold the essential contents of
what was given by faith, into the form of rational knowledge, but could
impart to it no higher character. He distinctly set forth this relation
of reason proceeding out of faith, and the life of faith, to faith itself ;
especially in his disputes with the Manicheans, who reversed this
relation.!
Thus it was first by him, that the great principle out of which the
subsequent doctrinal system developed itself in its independent self:
subsistence — “fides preecedit intellectum’’ — was established in a
logically consistent manner. We find, therefore, in Augustin two ten-
dencies, by which he exerted a special influence on the development of
Christian knowledge in this century, and in the followmg ones: a tendency
to assert the dignity and independence of faith, as opposed to a proud,
speculative spirit which rent itself from all connection with the Christian
life ; and to point out, in opposition to the advocates of a blind faith,
the agreement of faith with reason, the development of faith from within
itself by means of reason.” But it is necessary to add here, what we
have before remarked, that Augustin assumed as that on which faith must
fix, and from which it must take its departure, everything given in the
tradition of the church: hence he was led to admit into his ratio many
foreign elements, as though they were given by fides; and his well-
exercised speculative and dialectic intellect made it easy for him to find
reasons for everything, —to construe, as necessary, everything which
had once become fused, although originally composed of heterogeneous
elements, with his life of faith. His system of faith wanted that his-
torical and critical direction, whereby alone, returning back, at all
periods of time, to the pure and original fountain of Christianity, it
could make and preserve itself free from the foreign elements which
continually threaten to mix in with the current of impure temporal
tradition.
believes.” In faith lies also the yearning
after more perfect knowledge; for faith
cannot exist without the longing after, and
without the hope of, that which one believes.
which we shall hereafter examine more
closely when we approach the history of
these doctrines. In the outset, when his
faith was still more purely the faith of au-
thority, the latter appeared to him as the
human element, to which alone the divine
could attach itself. When he had penetrat-
ed more deeply into the essence of that
which is the life of faith, faith itself seemed
to him already to presuppose the communi-
cation of the divine element to the man: it
seemed to him, that im faith the divine and
human elements were already conjoined.
1 As in the tract de utilitate credendi.
2 On this point, the letter of Augustin to
Consentius, ep. 120, is particularly worthy
of notice. He here proposes the problem, ut
va, que fidei firmitate jam tenes, etiam ratio-
nis luce conspicias. “ Even faith,” says he,
“has its eyes, with which, in a certain sense,
it sees that to be true which still it does not
see, and with which it sees with the utmost
confidence that it does not yet see what it
Against an absolute antagonism of fides
and ratio, he says: “Far be it from us to
suppose, that God should hate in us that by
means of which he has made us superior to
all other creatures. Far be it from us to
suppose, that we are to believe in order that
we may be under no necessity of receiving
or of seeking rational knowledge; since we
could not even believe, unless we were pos-
sessed of rational souls. Even this, too, is
beyond all question in conformity with rea-
son, that in some things pertaining to the
doctrines of salvation, which we are as
yet not able to penetrate by our reason,
faith precedes rational knowledge, that so
the disposition may be purified by faith, in
order to be in a condition, at some future
period, to receive the light of so great
truth.”
860 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
We now pass to consider the history of the principal doctrines of
Christianity singly considered, and of the prominent antagonisms in the
modes of apprehending and treating these doctrines; and, in so doing,
we shall see still more clearly presented, in their peculiar features, the
different and opposite main tendencies of the theological spirit.
2. OPPOSITE WAYS OF APPREHENDING AND TREATING THE SINGLE -
GREAT DocTRINES OF CHRISTIANITY.
a. Theology in the more limited sense of the term, or the Christian Doe-
trine concerning God.
We shall notice first the controversy which, in its result, had the
greatest influence on the whole development of the doctrine concerning
God; viz. the controversy on the doctrine of the Zrinity, from which
all the others may be most conveniently derived.
This controversy was a natural consequence of the opposite concep-
tions of the doctrine of the Trinity, which had been formed in the course
of the preceding period ; and its origin can be rightly understood and
judged, only by a previous consideration of the latter. Considering it
in this connection, we can be under no temptation of ascribing too much
importance here to external circumstances and occasions, or to the influ-
ence of any individual man, as, for instance, Arius. Neglecting this,
we might easily be misled to pass an unjust judgment on Arius, after
having unjustifiably removed him out of his connection with the dog-
matic development of his times, so as to consider his system merely as
his own work, and not as, in a certain sense, a product of the epoch of
dogmatic development in which his life was destined to fall.
We observed, near the close of the preceding period, two main sys-
tems on the doctrine of the Trinity, and more particularly on the doc-
trine concerning the relation of the Son of God to the Father: the
system, for the most part peculiar to the Western church, in which the
Christian theistic interest was most distinctly expressed; and the Ori-
ental system of emanation and subordination, which obtained a settled
form through the labors of Origen. By the former, the unity of essence
(the ὁμοούσιον.) in the Triad was made specially prominent, with a view
to distinguish precisely the Son of God from all created beings, and to
retain firmly the principle of Monarchy ; while, on the other hand, the
latter system had grown from the establishing, under more precise con-
ceptions, of the older emanation theory, —its aim being simply to re-
move from the latter all temporal and sensuous representations. This
system, it is true, in one respect coincided with the other; namely,
that it affirmed the difference not merely in degree, but in essence, be-
twixt the Son of God and all created beings: but the doctrine of the
unity of essence was combated by this system as an annihilation of the
distinction of persons; and this constitutes that opposition between the
two systems which we remarked already at the close of the preceding
period. But when now the opposition to the former system was carried
to a still further extreme, a third system was formed, which, along with
the unity of essence, rejected also the eternal generation; and, in gen-
ARIUS. 361
eral, would not admit any essential difference between the conception,
Son of God, and the conception of a created being, — between the
notion of a generation from God, and the notion of a creation. 7118
system stood connected with the older subordination theory, and was,
in so far, nothing new,! but only an attempt to fix and hold fast, in this
doctrine, an earlier step of development, in opposition to any further
progressive movement. The novelty consisted in the form in which the
doctrine, so fixed and held fast, was understood, and in which it must
assume a more rigidly distinctive and exclusive character. In the
letter of Dionysius, bishop of Rome, to Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria,
we find already the indications of such a mode of apprehension (see
vol. I., sect. 3, p. 1037.) Now it was this which, being fully ex-
pressed, in the beginning of the fourth century, by the presbyter Arius,
evoked the disputes, of the rise and progress of which we are about to
give an account.
As to Arius, it should be remarked, with regard to his peculiar theo-
logical education, that he was a scholar of the presbyter Lucian of An-
tioch.2,_ From this school he took that direction which led him to place
the free, grammatical interpretation of the Bible at the basis of his
doctrinal system. But in cases where this direction was not accom-
panied with a general intuition of biblical ideas vitalized by Christian
experience, and this general intuition had not made plain the true
relation of the particular to the general in the expressions of holy writ,
it might tend, by laying too great stress on particulars, and giving them
an undue prominence, to promote narrow views of the truths of faith.
This was the case with Arius, in whom a tendency to narrow concep-
tions of the understanding, exclusive of the intuitive faculty, predomi-
nated. In the Antiochian school, too, he probably took a direction in
opposition to the doctrines of Paul of Samosata, which led him to give
particular prominence to the distinction of hypostases, and, what was
connected therewith, to assume at the same time a polemical attitude
against the Homoousion.2 But even in the system of Origen’s school
at Alexandria, he might afterwards find many points of concurrence
with his own views, as well in the polemics against the doctrine of the
unity of essence and in the subordination theory, as also in the way in
which the doctrine of the freedom and self-determination of all rational
beings was here apprehended. Arius certainly did not believe that he
was preaching a new doctrine, but only bringing out and establishing
the old church subordination system ; — without which it seemed to him
neither the monarchical principle of the Triad, nor the selfsubsistent
personality of the Logos, could be maintained. ‘* We must either sup-
pose,” says Arius, “ two divine original essences without beginning, and
independent of each other; we must substitute a Dyarchy in place of
the Monarchy; or we must not shrink from asserting that the Logos had
1 As, in fact, although the Logos was
doubtless distinguished from other created
beings, yet no “scruples were felt at the
same time to apply to him the phrase ἐκτισέ
ue, in Proverbs 8: 22; consequently, in so
far, of applying to him the name of ἃ κτίσμα.
VOL. 11.
2 Which may be gathered from the cir-
cumstance, that he addresses the bishop
Eusebius of Nicomedia, in his letter pre-
served to us by Theodoret and Epiphanius,
as συλλουκιανίστης.
8 See vol. I. sect. III. p. 1036.
862 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
a beginning of his existence, that there was a moment when he did not
as yet exist” (ἦν ὅτε οὐκ yv.)! The idea of a becoming without a begin-
ning, a derivation in essence and not in time, was, to the feebly specula-
tive and feebly intuitive mind of Arius, something too subtle and refined,
—something incomprehensible, self contradictory. We perceive here
how little suited Origen’s method of intuition was to the mind of Arius.
So, too, he supposed that, by a generation from God, — masmuch as par-’
ticular stress was laid on this notion of a generation from God, as distin-
guished from creation, — nothing at all could be distinctly conceived,
unless men were disposed to fall in with the sensuous Gnostic represen-
tations of a partition of the divine essence.? But if men chose to lay
particular stress on the notion Son of God, and to employ this designa-
tion for the purpose of distinguishing the Logos from all created beings,
they would in this way also fall into sensuous, anthropopathic notions.
Between God the Creator, and the creature, nothing else could be con-
ceived as intervening. Either Christ was a divine, original essence,
like the Father, and then it would be necessary to suppose two Gods,
or else there should be no fear or hesitation in distinctly avowing that
he was, like all other creatures of God, created, formed, begotten, — or
however else it might be expressed ; for, however it was expressed, the
matter itself remained the same, — by his own will, as it pleased him,
from nothing (ἐξ οὔκ ὄντων.) Those passages of the New Testament in
which he believed he found the expression ποιεῖν employed with refer-
ence to Christ,3 in which he found him styled the Hirst-born,* conse-
quently a beginning of existence, as he thought, ascribed to him, he
could cite in favor of his theory. By all this, he intended by no means
to lower the dignity of Christ; but would ascribe to him the greatest
dignity which a being could have after God, without entirely annulling
the distinction between that being and God. God created him, or
begat him, with the intent through him to produce all things else ; the
distance betwixt God and all other beings is too great to allow of the
supposition that God could have produced them immediately. In
the first place, therefore, when he determined to produce the entire
creation, he begat a being who is as like to him in perfections as any
creature can be, for the purpose of producing, by the instrumentality
of this Being, the whole creation.®> The names Son of God, and Logos,
were given to him in order to distinguish him from other created beings,
inasmuch as, although, like all created beings, he owed everything to
1 He intentionally avoided saying, ἦν δ“Ὡς dpa ϑέλων ὁ Bede τὴν γενητὴν κτίσαι
“χρόνος, αἴων ὅτε, for he unquestionably 5αρ-. φύσιν, ἐπείδη ἑώρα μὴ δυναμένην αὐτὴν μετά-
posed that the Logos was produced by the
Father before all time; the conceptions of
time and of creation being, according to
his opinion, inseparably connected.
2 Here he might take sides with the
school of Origen against a γεννῆσις ἐκ τῆς
οὐσίας τοῦ ϑεοῦ, little as he could agree, ac-
cording to the above remarks, with the spirit-
ual way of apprehending the doctrine of
emanation in the same school.
8 Act. ap..2, 86. Heb..3: 2.
4 Col. 1: 15.
σχειν τῆς τοῦ πώτρος ἀκρώτουν χείρος Kal τῆς
παρ᾽ αὐτοῦ δημιουργίας, ποιεῖ καὶ κτίζει πρώ-
τως μόνον ἕνα καὶ καλεῖ, τοῦτον viov καὶ λό-
γον, ἵνα τουτοῦ μέσου γενομένου, οὑτῶς λοΐῖπον
καὶ τὰ πώντα δι’ αὐτοῦ γένεσϑαι δυνηϑῇ.
Athanas. orat. II. ec. Arian. § 34. Although
Athanasius is here stating that in which
Eusebius of Nicomedia, Asterius and Arius
acreed, and these very words consequently
ought not to be ascribed to Arius, yet they
are certainly altogether in accordance with
his way of thinking.
DOCTRINE OF ARIUS. 363
the will and favor of the Creator, he yet enjoyed the nearest relation-
ship to Him, inasmuch as the divine reason, wisdom, power, all which
titles could only be transferred to Christ in an improper, metonymical
sense, were yet manifested by him in the most perfect degree. As an
example of the rude style of conception and expression in which Arius
indulged, we may take the following remark of his: ‘‘ Having deter-
mined to create us, God created a certain being whom he named Logos,
Wisdom, and Son, in order to create us by him.”? Arius quoted
many examples of scripture phraseology, to show that the expressions
Logos, power of God, are by no means always used in the holy scrip-
tures in the same sense; so that it was in nowise necessary to under-
stand by these terms a power and a reason of God inseparable from the
Divine Essence; but they were ofttimes transferred and applied in
an improper sense to other objects; as, for example, when even the
locusts, Joel 2: 25, (according to the Alexandrian version,) were
called the great power of God. Such explanations as these might,
indeed, easily furnish occasion for representing Arius as a man whose
main bent was to contend against the divine dignity of the Saviour, and
to misrepresent him. But in reality this was meant by Arius only as a
grammatical vindication of his own way of apprehending a biblical idea,
where certainly it did not occur to him to suppose that from these
examples, adduced to establish the scriptural use of language, anything
should or could be inferred tending to the disparagement of our Saviour.
But this grammatical interpretation must doubtless have appeared offen-
sive to the prevailing doctrinal interest, which flowed out of a hearty
Christian feeling. Arius perceived, beyond all question, that, from the
very conception of a creature, an infinite distance must be inferred
betwixt him and the Creator; nor did he shrink from expressing this.
This, in fact, Origen had already expressed in affirming that as God is,
in essence, infinitely exalted above all created beings, so, too, in es-
sence he was infinitely exalted above the highest of created beings, the
Son; and the latter, m essence, could not at all be compared with him.’
He reckoned as belonging to the essence of the rational creature —
in this particular, falling in as well with the school of Origen, as with that
of Antioch — the self-determining, mutable, free will ; the foundation
of all the superiority enjoyed by rational beings. This principle he
applied also, without concealment or evasion, to Christ. By his nature,
as a created being, Christ possessed a will subject to change ; but he
had constantly directed it to that only which is good, and by this means
he had become morally unchangeable. ‘[hus the Son of God, too, had
obtained -the glory which he possessed above all other creatures, not
without the desert of his own will; for as God by his foreknowledge
saw, from the beginning, what a holy life Christ would lead, as a man,
in passing triumphantly through all his conflicts, he bestowed on him
that glory, foreseeing that he would deserve it as the reward of his
1 Athanas. c. Arian. 1. § 5. Agreeing 2.866 in Athanasius. ᾿
precisely with the passage above cited: 8᾽Αλλότριος Kal ἀνόμοιος κατὰ πάντα τῆς
Θελήῆσας ἡμᾶς δημιουργῆσαι, πεποιῆκεν ἕνα τοῦ πατρὸς οὐσίας καὶ ἰδιοτῆτος --- ἀνόμοιος
τινὰ καὶ ὠτόμασεν αὐτὸν λόγον καὶ σοφίαν ἐπ᾽ ἄπειρον τῇ τε οὐσίᾳ καὶ δόξῃ. Athanas
καὶ viov, ἵνα ἡμᾶς δι’ αὐτοῦ δημιουργήσῃ. Arian. I. ὁ 6.
864 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
virtue.1_ Nor did he believe it possible to conceive of the Christ whom
he found revealed in the New Testament in any other way than this.
How conceive of his struggles and conflicts ih the view of death, and
of his prayer in these conflicts, without a changeableness of will? Had
he been the almighty power of God himself, he would have had no fears
for himself, but rather would have imparted strength to others. And, in
the 2d of Philippians, Paul does in fact represent his exaltation, as
being the reward of the obedience manifested in his life.2 By simply
distinguishing here between the human and the divine natures in Christ,
Arius might, indeed, have been easily refuted ; but this refutation
could not have touched him according to the coherence of his own sys-
tem ; for here, too, he held fast to the as yet rude, undeveloped doctrine
of the first centuries, and trenched himself in what he supposed he found
literally taught in the New Testament. Hence, following the older
mode of apprehension, he considered the incarnation of the Logos to
consist simply in his union with a human body ;* and hence, too, all the
actions and expressions of Christ denoting dependence on God, or limi-
tation of any kind, as, for example, prayer and every manifestation of
ignorance, could only appear to him as a proof of the correctness of his
theory concerning the essence of the Son of God as a created being.
If Christ was in essence the true and indwelling wisdom of the Father,
how then could it be written, that he grew in wisdom? Luke 2: 52.
How could he ask where Lazarus had been laid, etc. ?4
Now although such a conception of Christ did, indeed, contradict
what is truly contaimed in the faith of Christ’s divinity, still he did not
hesitate to ascribe to him the name of God, which he believed he found
clearly ascribed to him in the New Testament,> and in the older con-
fessions of faith. He was not conscious to himself of deviating from
the older doctrines of the Eastern church ; since in truth so much in
the older church-teachers seemed to speak in favor of his opinion.
Probably he appealed to those passages of scripture, where the name
of God seems to be applied in an improper sense to created beings, and
thence argued that it was applied after an analogous manner, but in
the highest sense, to the Logos. Arius could not, consistently with his
system, express himself otherwise than to say, that as Christ was all
that which he was only by the grace of God, so by the communication
1 Τῇ μὲν φύσει ὥσπερ πώντες, οὕτω Kal
αὐτὸς ὁ λόγος ἔστι τρεπτὸς, τῷ δὲ ἰδίῳ αὐτεξ-
ουσίῳ, ἕως βούλεται, μένει καλὸς, ὁτὲ μέντοι
ϑέλει, δύναται τρέπεσϑαι καὶ αὐτὸς ὥσπερ
καὶ ἡμεῖς, τρεπτῆς ὧν φύσεως. (Arius was
led to push the matter thus far, on account
of the notions he entertained of the crea-
ture and of free will; for he set the change-
ableness of the free will over against a
blind necessity of nature. The Arians pro-
posed the dilemma: “Either the Son of
God has a changeable free will, by virtue
of which he may incline to moral evil or to
moral good, or he is without will, like a
block of wood ora stone.” Athanas. orat.
ce. Arian. I. ὁ 35.) Διὰ τούτο καὶ προγινώ-
σκων ὁ ϑεὺς, ἔσεσϑαι καλὸν αὐτὸν, προλαβὼν
αὐτῷ ταύτην τὴν δόξαν δέδωκεν, ἣν ἄνϑρω-
πος καὶ ἐκ τῆς ἀρέτης ἔσχε μετὰ ταύτα: ὥστε
ἐξ ἔργων αὐτοῦ, OY προέγνω ὁ ϑεὸς, τοίουτον
αὐτὸν νῦν γεγονέναι, πεποιῆκε.
2 Athanas. orat. III. 26, I. 43.
8 We perceive here also the agreement
and opposition between Arius and Origen.
He coincided with the latter in considering
the glorification of Christ the reward of his
merit; but Origen referred this to Christ’s
human soul, — see vol. I. sect. 3, p. 1066, —
Arius to the Logos himself.
Ὁ Athanas. orat. III. 26.
5 Since, at all events, he referred to him
at least the passage concerning the Logos
in the beginning of John’s gospel.
DOCTRINE OF ARIUS. 365
of that grace he had obtained the divine titles and divine dignity,
although in his essence he was not the true God! He affirmed, with
the other church-teachers, the incomprehensibleness of the divine
essence to all created beings; and, from his own point of view, he con-
sistently applied this likewise to the Son of God, since, in placing him
with created beings, he could not do otherwise. ‘Io Jesus, too, the
essence of God was incomprehensible; and Christ knew him in a man-
ner differmg from the knowledge of other created beings only in
degree, and according to the proportion of the higher powers bestowed
on him by the Father.”
All that we know about Arius would by no means persuade us to
acknowledge in him a man fitted, by his superiority of intellect, to pro-
duce a new epoch in the evolution of doctrme. He himself was assur-
edly far from entertaining any such design. He was intending simply
to defend the old doctrine of the church concerning the Trinity against
Sabellian and Gnostic opinions, and to exhibit it in a consistent manner.
He was in nowise conscious to himself of the result to which his ten-
dency and his principles really led. It may justly be inferred, however,
from the character of this system, and from the onward step of human
nature, that, if Arianism had been able to gain the victory, men would
not have rested content with the results which satisfied Arius, with such
a half-way form of doctrinal opinions as could satisfy neither the
demands of the understanding, which aims to comprehend everything,
nor those of Christian consciousness and feelmg: » This contracted,
sober tendency of the understanding would have gone on to express
itself still further, and would have drawn down the transcendent doc-
trines of the gospel to another and an alien province.®
From what has been said, it may well be conceived that to him who
had seized the doctrine of Christ’s divinity in its true import and in its
coherence with the entire system of Christian faith, the Arian doctrine
must have appeared repugnant to the essence of Christianity, when he
contemplated it from his own point of view ; and hence there can be no
mistaking the fact, that this controversy related to a matter of the
greatest moment, both in a doctrinal and in a more general Christian
point of view.
The Arius with whom these disputes began, was a presbyter of the
Alexandrian church, and, according to the Alexandrian arrangements,
(see vol. 11. sect. 1, p. 843,) presided over an independent parish
church of this city, which went by the name of Baucalis. He had been
placed here shortly before the presbyter Alexander had been made
bishop of this city. Being a rigid ascetic,* he had probably great influ-
1 El δὲ καὶ λέγεται Sedo, GAN οὐκ ἀληϑί-
νὸς ἔστιν, ἄλλα μετόχῃ χάριτος, ὥσπερ καὶ οἱ
ἄλλοι πώντες, οὕτω καὶ αὐτὸς λέγεται ὀνόματι
μόνον ϑέος. Le. 1. § 6. ᾿
2 Ὁ γινώσκει καὶ ὁ βλέπει ἀναλόγως τοῖς
ἰδίοις μέτροις, otde καὶ βλέπει, ὥσπερ καὶ
ἡμεῖς γινώσκομεν κατὰ τὴν ἴδιαν δύναμιν.
1. c. Arian. § 6. The same is stated as ἃ
doctrine of Arius, by the Arian historian,
Philostorgius, Il. 3. According to the pas-
91"
VOL. II.
sage in Athanasius, Arius says, moreover:
Αὐτὸς 6 υἵος τὴν ἑαυτοῦ οὐσίαν οὐκ οἷδε.
Perhaps he taught that no created being
could comprehend its own essence; and,
remaining true to his principle, applied this
also to the Son of God.
3 Jn the Arian doctrine concerning free-
dom may be found, in fact, already the
germ of Pelagianism.
4 In the old account of the Meletian
366 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY. ARIUS DEPOSED.
ence with his community, as this was a mode of life which there easily
procured the highest respect.
Respecting the first outbreak of the controversy, there are different
reports, which admit perhaps of being reconciled, if we consider that
the first beginnings of such schisms, cherished as they may be in
secret long before any public outbreak, are capable of being stated
and described in different ways according to different points of view.
It is possible that Arius may have displayed his zeal, as a teacher of
the faith, before he became a presbyter, and, in seeking to diffuse his
own peculiar principles, have made himself friends and enemies.! When
he proceeded to spread his opinions, under the new bishop Alexander ©
of Alexandria, in his own parish church, he became involved in a con-
troversy with other members of the clergy. Alexander, in the outset,
took no part in it: he showed himself at the beginning undecided in his
judgment, until finally, on the occasion of a theological conference,
which the bishop of Alexandria was accustomed to hold at certain
times with his clergy, he declared distinctly against Arius.”
The bishop Alexander, at an assembly of the clergy in Alexandria,
and then at a more numerous synod of Egyptian and Lybian bishops,
composed of a hundred members, in the year 321, deposed Arius from
his office, and excluded him from the communion of the church.
AftereArius had been excommunicated, he wrote, in defence and for
the propagation of his doctrines, a book called Thalia, probably a mis-
cellany composed of pieces in poetry and prose, from which we have
already cited a few important fragments as illustrating the character of
his system. He wrote also a collection of songs for sailors, millers, and
pilgrims —an old expedient for spreading religious opinions among
the people. For the rest, it is quite probable, if we may judge from
the fragments preserved, from the comparatively prosaic spirit of Arius,
and the prosaic character of his doctrines, that in the apologetical work,
and in the songs above mentioned, there was nothing poetical besides
the mere form.
Alexander, moreover, sent circular letters to the more eminent bishops,
schism, it is said of Arius: Habitum por- the latter attached themselves to one or the
tans pietatis. See Osservazioni letterarie
Verona, III. 1738, p. 16, 1. 6. he wore the
pallium of the ascetics. With this agrees
also the description of Epiphanius, when he
says of him: Ἤν κατῆφος τὸ εἴδος, ἡμιφορίον
ἐνδιδυσκόμενος.
1Jn the record above referred. to, pub-
lished by Maffei, it is said of Arius: Et
ipse doctoris desiderium habens. His rup-
ture with Peter, bishop of Alexandria, and
his union with the Meletian party, had some
connection perhaps already with doctrinal
differences.
2 Sozomen and Epiphanius relate, that
the controversy arose in the first place in-
dependently of the bishop Alexander. Ac-
cording to the latter’s account, several dif-
ferent parties had already been formed
among the clergy and the laity, according as
other of the parish presbyters; but many
of these parties were lost again, while the
more important antagonism betwixt Arius
and the defenders of the Homoousion be-
came continually more distinctly prominent,
and extended more widely. According to
both the reports, the bishop Alexander had
his attention first directed to the danger
which threatened from other quarters: ac-
cording to Sozomen, he at first appeared
undecided. Socrates mentions the theolog-
ical conference. There is also an allusion
to this in the letter of the emperor Con-
stantine to Alexander and Arius, cited by
Eusebius, de vita Constantini, 1. 11. c. 69,
when he says, that the bishop Alexander
had asked all his presbyters, how they un-
derstood a certain passage of scripture.
PARTIES FURMED. EUSEBIUS OF CHSAREA. 367
in which he represented the doctrines of Arius as being altogether
unchristian ; aud although he described these doctrines as they must have
appeared to him from his own point of view, yet it cannot be said that
he indulged himself in charging against them his own inferences. But
Arius also sought, on his own part, to gain over to his side the suffrages
of the more eminent bishops of the Eastern church ; and this he could
not have felt to be a very difficult task: for the majority of them, though
not friendly to hts own doctrines, were yet not any more favorably
disposed to the doctrine of the Homoousion, which Alexander maintained.
They were inclined rather, for the most part, to the Origenistic system,
which occupied the middle place between the two schisms ; — that sys-
tem from which afterwards sprang the so-called Semi-Arianism : and in
the opposition. to the system of Alexander, Arius could find many a
point of concurrence with his own doctrines, of which he would not be
slow to avail himself. He affirmed that he took ground only against
those heretical doctrines which attributed to the Son of God the same
want of beginning as to the Father,! and which taught a sensuous
emanation, a partition of the divine essence.? His doctrine, that the
Son of God was produced ἐξ οὐκ ὄντων, he explained in the sense in which
it was, in fact, customary to understand this expression with reference
to the doctrine of the creation out of nothing, viz., that by it, was simply
excluded the supposition of a preéxisting matter, or of an efflux out of
the divine essence. The Son was produced by the will of the
Father, before all time, as perfect God, only-begotten, unchangeable.®
These explanations, of which, it is true, it cannot be said that they
contradicted the real doctrines of Arius, in which, however, it is impos-
sible not to recognize the moderating influence of a respect to the
ruling doctrine of the Eastern church,—these explanations were unques-
tionably suited to gain over the dominant party in his favor. Men of
great influence in the Eastern church exerted themselves to bring about
a compromise between Arius and his bishop —a compromise of this
sort, that the bishop Alexander should allow Arius to retain his parochial
office, without requiring that his views of the faith should agree in all
respects with his own. ‘Two individuals, in particular, sought, by their
negotiations, to bring this about : Eusebius of Nicomedia, who as bishop
of that city which, under the government of Dioclesian, had become the
imperial residence for a main division of the East-Roman empire, pos-
sessed considerable influence, who was, moreover, an old friend of Arius,
and, still more than many others, agreed with him in doctrine; and
Eusebius, bishop of Ceesarea in Palestine, who had acquired great repu-
tation in the Eastern church as a learned and accomplished theologian.$
1 Styled him συναγεννῆτος.
2 Οἱ τὸν viov λέγοντες, οἱ μὲν ἐρυγὴν, οἱ
δὲ προβολήν.
8. Consistently, indeed, Arius could not
apply to Christ such an expression as πλῆ-
ρης ϑεὸς . but he might doubtless say this,
according to the vague and indefinite man-
ner in which he applied the name of God.
The greatest difficulty he must have found,
from his own point of view, in attributing to
Christ the predicate of immutability; but
here also the whole depended on the ques-
tion, — how this was to be understood. He
must have understood it as meaning, that
Christ was immutable, not in his essence,
but by virtue of the bent of his will as fore-
known by God.
4 The system of Eusebius — as it had al-
ready been matured previous to the com-
mencement of the Arian controversies, and
808 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
The latter was, from the first, disinclined to public dialectical disputes
on divine things: he was anxious to avoid and suppress them ; resem-
bling in this respect another great church-teacher from the school of
Origen, Dionysius of Alexandria. He dreaded, and not without good
reason, the intrusion of profane passions into investigations on such
matters, which, beyond all others, required, in order to any right under-
standing, the purity, calmness, and quiet of a soul consecrated to God.
Holding the generation of the Son of God from the Father to be a
subject which transcended the limited powers of all created minds, to
say nothing of the human, the more unwise and mischievous did he
consider disputes on such matters as these. Convinced that only a
mind the most practised in thinking, and freed from the sphere of sen-
suous and temporal relations, could approximate to any worthy repre-
sentation of a matter in its very essence incomprehensible, it seemed to
him the more absurd and perverse to make such things a subject of dispute
among men whose minds had not been trained to speculation, and even
to introduce this controversy among uneducated laymen, who could
understand nothing at all about such matters. He was more distinctly
conscious than others, of the limits fixed to the human knowledge of
divine things, and of the distinction between speculative, dogmatic
explanations, and the practical doctrines of faith. ‘* What are we men,”
he argued, ‘‘ who are unable to understand a thousand things that lie
immediately at our feet! Who knows how the soul became united with
as he exhibits it in his work written before
this time, the demonstratio evangelica —
coincides entirely with that of Origen; and,
from this circumstance, we may form a
judgment of its relation to the Arian system.
He was, with Origen, inclined to favor the
theory of subordination, — the notion of an
ἀπαυγάσμα τοῦ πρῶτου φωτὸς, Of a φῶς πρὼ-
τον, and ἃ φῶς δεύτερον, ---- οὐσία πρώτη and
δεύτερα; to consider the Son as the perfect
reflection of the original light, in the most
perfect manner, like in all things to the
Father, his most perfect image, revealing
himself, ἀφομοιώμενος τῷ πάτρι κατὰ πάντα;
moreover, ὁμοίος κατ᾽ οὐσίαν, as he is in fact
the εἴκων τῆς ἀγεννῆτου Kal πρώτης οὐσίας.
See, for example, lib. IV. preeparat. evangel.
c. 3. Eusebius was of the opinion, that the
Son of God could not be ¢alled absolutely
eternal (ἅπλως ἀΐδιος), like the Father; that
it was necessary to ascribe to him an origin
of existence from the Father, — since thus
only was it possible to hold fast the doctrine
of the monarchy ; and that it was impossible
to express the truth after the manner of men,
in any other way than by saying the ex-
istence of the Father precedes the existence
and the origin of the Son (ὁ πατὴρ προῦ-
πάρχει τοῦ υἵου καὶ τῆς γενέσεως αὐτοῦ προῦ-
φέστηκεν) ; but yet it was necessary here to
remove away all relations of time. In a
word, the idea of the origin of the Son of
God was one which transcended the concep-
tions of all created beings, and of which
none but the most acute intellect, abstracting
from the relations of time and sense, could
form any adequate representation (ὀξυτάτη
διανοία φαντάζεται viov γεννητὸν, ob χρόνοις
μὲν τισὶν οὐκ ὄντα, ὕστερον δέ ποτε γεγονότα,
ἐξ αἰώνος μώλλον δὲ πρὸ πάντων αἰώνων, ἀῤ-
ῥητῶς καὶ ἀνεπιλογίστως ἡμῖν. In that work,
written before the time of the Arian contro-
versies, he does not hesitate, it is true, to
call the Son of God the' τέλειον δημιούργημα
τοῦ τελείου, and so consequently he could
name him also the κτίσμα τέλειον; but, be-
fore the Arian controversies, men did not, in
fact, as a general thing, distinguish so care-
fully, in the Eastern church, the doctrinal
expressions employed on this point. But
it may be gathered from the whole connec-
tion and train of ideas in Eusebius, that he
made an essential distinction between the
Son of God and created beings; and in
the work de ecclesiastica theologia, written
after the Arian controversies, he declared
himself expressly as being against those
who reckoned the Son of God among the
κτίσματα ; he taught that God was the Father
of the Christ alone,—the God and Creator of
all other beings; that the Son of God had
come into existence in a way wholly differ-
ent from that of all other beings (οὐχ ὁμοίως
τοῖς λοιποῖς γεννητοῖς ὑποστώντα), — conse-
quently that there was an essential difference
between the notion of a Son of God and
that of a created being. LEcclesiast. theol.
1.1. 6. 8
EUSEBIUS OF CHSAREA. 369
the body, and hew it leaves it? What is the essence of the angels,
and the essence of our own soul? And why, then, do we presume, when
we see ourselves, even here, already surrounded, on all sides, by so
many difficulties, to search after the perfect knowledge of the essence
of the eternal Godhead ? Why do we not rest satisfied with the testi-
mony of the Father respecting his beloved Son: ‘This is my beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased — hear ye him’? But the latter tells
us himself, what we should know concerning him: ‘God so loved the
world, as to send his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in
him might not perish, but have everlasting life.’ We must believe on
him, then, in order to be partakers of everlasting life. For whosoever
believes on him, he says, hath eternal life ; not whosoever knows how he
was begotten of the Father. Were the latter the condition, none could
obtain the promise ; for the same Lord also declares, ‘ No man knoweth
the Father except the Son, and no man knoweth the Son, but the
Father only.’ Sufficient therefore for us, in order to salvation, is the
faith which enables us to know the Almighty God as our Father, and
to receive his only-begotten Son as our Saviour.” 1
But as it often happens with those who would wish to be moderate,
that they forget their character whenever an immoderate zeal, however
honestly meant, comes to oppose them in another; as it often happens
in such cases even to them, that, instead of placing themselves in their
opponent’s point of view, they judge him entirely from their own, and
thus treat him with unfairness; so it turned out with Eusebius. It
sometimes happened with him, that he could not appreciate the weight
which a doctrinal difference must have had when regarded from some
other point of view than his own ; and that hence he allowed himself in the
great error of passing unjust and censorious judgments on a zeal which,
though inordinate, still proceeded from the deep consciousness of such
importance. Doubtless he was right in maintaining that faith in Jesus
as a Redeemer, and God as a Father, constitutes the Christian; but he
could not transport himself to another man’s point of view, to whom an
error, which he accounted unessential, seemed to stand in entire contra-
diction with this faith. Hence he could be so far misled as to trace
everything to passion, in cases where a purely Christian interest at
bottom was not to be mistaken.
Eusebius of Czesarea wrote a letter to the bishop Alexander, in which
he sought to convince him that he was doing Arius injustice ; and that, if
he would but rightly conceive him, he would find no difficulty in coming
to an agreement with him.2 Now Arius might well be inclined to
1 Ecclesiast. theol. 1. I. ο. 12.
2 A fragment of this letter is to be found
in the 6th Act of the second Nicene council,
Harduin. T. 1V. f. 407. Arius, in his letter
drawn up in common with certain other
presbyters, which is to be found in Epipha-
nius, had called the Son of God a κτίσμα
ϑεοῦ τελείον. ἀλλ᾽ οὐχ ὡς ἕν τῶν κτισμάτων.
Now, with this explanation, the complaint
urged by the bishop Alexander seemed to
Eusebius to stand in contradiction ; viz. that,
according to Arius’ doctrine, the Son of God
had come into existence, ὡς ἕν τῶν κτισμώ-
των. But Alexander might rightly deem
himself justified — regarding the matter
from his own doctrinal point of view, and in
the coherence of those explanations with the
whole Arian scheme —in saying that he
could find in those words nothing but the
statement of a difference in degree between
the Son of God and other created beings.
He could conceive of nothing that could
370 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
accept of the proposed conditions of agreement, since, being a subordi-
nate pastor opposed to the bishop, he could not but gain by any such
compromise. Lesides, from the very nature of the case, he who, in
any doctrinal dispute, is chiefly contending as Arius was for a negative
interest, can afford to be more tolerant than he can who is defending a
positive interest. The negative and the positive, however, were in this
case intimately connected ; for Arius, in contending, as he supposed he
was, against the deification of a creature, was defending, in his own
opinion, the interests of pure Theism — though in a way, to be sure, that
savored rather of a narrow Jewish spirit than of genuine Christianity ;
since, indeed, the idea of a God not self-included, but selfrevealing,
and — without which the full revelation of God cannot be — communi-
cating himself, is the fundamental idea of Christianity, and moreover
the basis of all vital Theism. It is often seen, too, that the negative
interest, where it acquires dominion, is not less imtolerant and inclined
to persecution, but, on the contrary, even more so than the positive.
Arius said respecting the definitions of his opponents: ““ We could not
even listen to these blasphemies, if the heretics threatened us with a
thousand deaths.”"! After such asseverations, we may well conceive
that Arius, in case his doctrines could have gained the ascendancy,
would not have been the most tolerant of men. But neither can we
greatly censure the bishop Alexander — to whom the doctrines of Arius,
regarded from his own point of view, must have appeared to undermine
the very essence of Christianity — if he believed it incompatible with a
conscientious discharge of his office, as a shepherd over the flock, to
suffer that Arius who certainly, to judge from the above-cited avowal,
and from his songs before alluded to, could not keep his peculiar system
to himself in discharging his public duties as a teacher, and who was
assuredly not wanting ina zeal for making proselytes— to suffer such
a man to remain as pastor over his community.
When Constantine, in the year 324, after his victory over Licinius,
had obtained the sovereignty over the entire Roman empire, and it
became his favorite plan to unite all his subjects together in one worship
of God; he must have been greatly annoyed to see so important a
schism, which found many to take an active share in it, even among the
laity, germinating within the church itself. He considered it incum-
possibly intervene betwixt the conception
ϑεός and the conception κτίσμα; and, if the
former of these predicates was not attributed
to the Son of God in its strict sense, accord-
ing to the idea of the unity of the divine
essence, then nothing was, in his opinion,
gained for Christian truth. Again, Alex-
ander had objected to Arius that he taught,
ὁ ὧν τὸν οὐκ ὄντα ἐγεννῆσε; for Alexander
considered in fact the being of the Son as
grounded from eternity in the being of the
Father, and derived from it according to
the conception, not according totime. ‘The
attaining first from non-existence to exist-
ence belonged, according to his view, to the
essential and distinctive mark of the κτίσμα.
But, according to the Origenistic mode of.
apprehension on which Eusebius proceeded,
God the Father was the ὧν absolutely (the
ov of Plato.) In so far as the existence of
the Son was derived from the Father, it was
necessary to conceive of him — although not
in respect to his beginning in time, yet in
reference to the absolute causality which
was to be ascribed to the Father alone —as
in the conception once not existing, οὐκ ὦν,
—as having come into being by the causality
of the Father, who alone is ἁπλῶς ἀΐδιος,
or we must suppose two absolute causalities,
two absolutely eternal beings, two ὄντες, ----
all which: are identical expressions with
Eusebius. :
1 Theodoret. 1. 5.
CONSTANTINE’S ATTEMPT AT RECONCILIATION. 3871
bent on him, therefore, at the very outset, to take every possible
measure for removing it. ΤῸ this end, in the year 324, he despatched
the bishop Hosius of Cordova, who then stood high in his confidence
and favor, to the bishop Alexander and to the presbyter Arius with a
letter,! expressing his displeasure at the outbreak of this whole contro-
versy, and calling upon them mutually to recognize each other as
Christian brethren, without insisting, either of them, upon the other’s
adopting his own peculiar convictions. The party of Eusebius of
Czesarea must have succeeded, at that time, in bringing the emperor
wholly over to their own views of this dispute; and to an emperor who
looked upon the matter in its outward aspects, and to whom the preser-
vation of quiet was the most important consideration, such views would
be likely to appear the most plausible. Constantine represented the
questions in dispute as being nothing but rash, speculative questions,
standing in no connection whatever with the essence of Christianity.
He found fault alike with those who had propounded, and with those
who had busied themselves in answering, such questions. He expressed
his special displeasure that such matters, which so few were capable of
understanding, should be brought publicly before the people. He held
up to them the example of the philosophers, who, even while differing
on particular points of doctrme, could nevertheless reckon themselves
as belonging to one and the same school. The doctrinal impartiality,
or rather indifference, of the emperor, or the individual who wrote in
his name, went, however, still further than even the moderation of a
Eusebius would have approved, had he allowed himself to make clear
to his own mind what was implied in the emperor’s language ; for the
latter then made the essentials of Christianity, in which all should agree,
to consist simply im the faith on a Providence.2” Considered from this
point of light, the matters to which this controversy related must indeed
have appeared as in the highest degree insignificant. But as a matter
of course, a letter of this description could have no influence in bring-
ing the contending parties any nearer together.
“The attempt of the emperor Constantine in this way to restore the
peace of the church having failed, and the two controversies which
broke out in Egypt at the same time, the Arian and the Meletian, (see
vol. 11. sect. 1, p. 219,) having produced violent movements even
among the laity, which threatened serious consequences of a political
nature,’ the emperor was forced to look round for some radical means
of restormg quiet. As the bishops appeared to him to be the repre-
sentatives of God and Christ, the organs of the divine Spirit that
enlightened and guided the church ; as he had before him the estab-
lished custom of deciding controversies in the single provinces by
assemblies composed of all ‘the provincial bishops, it would, according to
this analogy, appear to him to be the most natural means of disposing
of the present controversy, which had become so widely diffused, to con-
1 To be found in Enuseb. II. de vita Con- 8 Ἐλαχίσται ζητῆσεις.
stantini, c. 64. 4 See Euseb. vit. Constantin. III. 4
2 Περὶ μὲν οὖν τῆς ϑείας προνοίας μία τὶς
ἐν ὑμῖν ἔστω πίστις.
ata THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
voke a council composed of all the bishops of his empire ; and the
employment of such a means seemed, in fact, to be required for the
decision of another important matter connected with the religious inter-
est in the mind of the emperor, viz., the bringing about of a general
agreement as to the time of holding the Easter festival (see vol. IL.,
sect. 2, p. 8302.) He summoned, A.D. 325, a general council to meet
at Nice, in Bithynia. It is stated, that three hundred and eighteen
bishops here came together, of whom by far the greater part were Ori-
entals ; and the emperor himself took an active part in the transactions
on this occasion.1
To form a correct notion of the order of business at this council, we
must, in the first place, present clearly before our minds the relation of
the parties who were present ;— those who agreed entirely with the
doctrine of Arius, which was but a small party ;?— then. the advocates
1 As no complete collection of the trans-
actions of this council has come down to
us, the only means left for obtaining a
knowledge of the true course of its pro-
ceedings is to take the accounts given by
those reporters of the different parties who
were present at the deliberations, and form
our conclusions from a comparison of them
all. These were more particularly Athana-
sius and Eusebius of Cxsarea. Even if
we could suppose, that Athanasius, who
only accompanied his bishop in the capaci-
ty of archdeacon, was in a situation to ob-
tain as accurate a knowledge of the intrigues
which influenced the course of the council,
as the bishop Eusebius, who stood in such
close connection with the court; yet it is
important to remark, that, in the case of
Athanasius, there were many things which
would render it difficult for him to take an
unbiassed view of the proceedings. Re-
garding the council as the organ by which
the divine truth expressed in the ὁμοούσιον
had obtained the victory over the Arian
error, disposed to look upon the determina-
tions of this council as simply expressing
the consciousness of Christian truth, which
then inspired the majority of the bishops,
everything would naturally be suppressed
by him which might cause the matter to
be considered in an altogether different
light, and exhibit the Nicene creed as an
instrument forced upon the majority of the
council by the influence of a court-party,
which governed the emperor. This holds
good especially of the tract written by Ath-
anasius in defence of the Nicene council.
In the next place, as to his Epistola ad
Afros, it is to be remarked, that although
Athanasius reports in this letter many im-
portant circumstances relating to the inter-
nal history of the council, yet he distorts
the true form of the facts, by persisting to
recognize only two parties at the council, —
avowed Arians, and adherents of the doc-
trine of the unity of essence. But that
these two parties were not the only ones at
the council, but, on the contrary, the party
which held the middle ground between these
two must have been the dominant party
there, may be easily gathered from looking
at the situation of the Eastern church in
this period, as well as from its whole course
of development up to this time. But it was
natural that Athanasius, looking at the
matter from fis own doctrinal position,
would be inclined to take cognizance of but
two parties, Arians and advocates of the
Homoousion. Between these there was for
him no neutral ground; and hence, indeed,
we may account for the fact, that he could
reckon Eusebius of Czsarea with the Ari-
ans. He comprised them all under one
name, that of οἱ περὶ ’EvoeBiov, (Kusebius
of Nicomedia.) Hence he could attribute
what he ought to have transferred to two
different parties, to one and the same
party, and — inasmuch as he confounded the
interests of two different parties — so repre-
sent the matter, as if every opposition to
the Arian opinions proceeded from those
who favored the Homoousion. In respect
to Eusebius, on the other hand, he speaks,
in the pastoral letter which he sent from the
council of Nice to his own community, of
the influence of the emperor without con-
cealment and without shame;—a_ fact
which reflects no honor on himself, or on
those friends of his who allowed themselves
to be, for the most part, governed by such
influence. But he was too much of a court
theologian, though belonging to the better
class of this party, to be conscious of the
dishonor. If the majority at the council
did in fact declare for the Homoousion, in
a way so entirely independent of foreign
influence as Athanasius represents, the
next following events in the Eastern church
would be incapable of explanation. These
testify more decidedly in favor of the cor-
rectness of the representation given by
Eusebius, than of that given by Athanasius.
2 So Athanasius, i in the epistola ad Afros,
§ 5, justly calls the Arians at the council.
τοὺς δοκοῦντας ὀλίγους.
COUNCIL OF NICE. 373
of the Homoousion, who likewise in the Eastern church composed but a
comparatively small party ;!—-and finally those who occupied the mid-
dle ground between the two parties, and entertained similar views with
those of Eusebius of Czesarea, of whose system we have spoken above.
From these last sprang up afterwards the party called Semi-Arians.
It was the wish of these last, that the doctrine of Christ’s divinity should
be settled only in such general expressions as had hitherto satisfied the
Christian want, so that, with regard to the difference which divided
the two contending parties, nothing was to be defined, and each of the
parties might be allowed to interpret the language according to its own
meaning. Many of the decided expressions of Arius concerning the nature
of the Son of God must, beyond question, have appeared offensive even
to the dominant middle party at the council ; and such expressions could
easily be laid hold of, to represent him to the Orientals as an opponent
of the old church doctrine of the Triad.2 A condemnation of these
Arian propositions might doubtless have been easily carried through, if,
on the other side, the party defending the Homoousion had not also
raised an opposition to the dominant church doctrine of the East, and
if certain individuals had not come out as mediators between the con-
tending parties. Several bishops who belonged to that second (after-
wards denominated the Semi-Arian) party, zealously exerted themselves
to establish peace, and to reduce to silence those who were earnestly
opposed to the doctrines of Arius.? They endeavored to show, that the
expressions of Arius did not, at least, have any such offensive sense, as
they appeared to have on the first glance ; and they proposed certain
general formulas of agreement, with which both parties might be satisfied.
The leaders of the Arian party, entering into these forms of agreement,
declared themselves ready to retract the offensive expressions, and to
adopt the doctrinal technology hitherto in use in the Eastern church,
which in truth they could very well explain according to their own
sense. A prominent part was taken among the authors of peace, espe-
cially by the learned bishop Eusebius of Czesarea. He laid before the
council a confession of faith, containing the doctrine which, as he said,
had been held forth from the first by the bishops in his church, — the
confession which he had received in his earliest religious instruction
and at his baptism, and which as a presbyter and a bishop he had con-
stantly preached. This creed distinctly expressed the doctrine of
Christ’s divinity, but in such expressions as, although, according to the
full import of the conceptions thereby denoted, they stood in contradic-
tion with the Arian tenets consistently understood, yet might be very
1 Which Athanasius, to be sure, nowhere
intimates, since he makes all the opponents
of strict Arianism advocates of the Ho-
moousion, and wholly overlooks the middle
party.
2 Accordingly that may be perfectly true,
received, as well as what he says also in
the epistola ad Afros, § 5, with regard to
the agreement in the condemnation of the
Arian dogmas, except that, owing to the
confusion of parties already alluded to, he
inferred too much from this circumstance.
which Athanasius, in the epistola ad episco-
pos Egypti et Libya, § 13, says with regard
to the general murmur of disapprobation
with which the explanations of Arius were
VOL. II. 32
8 Eustathius of Antioch, as cited by The-
odoret. 1.8. Ὁμοῦ τινες ἐκ συσκεύης Tob.
νομα προβαλλόμενοι τῆς εἰρῆνης κατεσίγασαν
μὲν ἁπάντας τοὺς ἀρίστα λέγειν εἰωϑότας
514’ THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
well united with those tenets by Arius, without giving up his own point
of view.!
This confession had the advantage of beg composed, for the most
part, of scriptural phraseology, which was considered by the party of
Eusebius as being a peculiar merit. In the creed of Arius, as in the
formula of the Homoousion, they especially censured the use of expres-
sions not conformed to the language of scripture, but certainly not on
altogether good grounds ; for as the forms of expression employed by
the scriptures have quite another purpose in view than the close defini-
tion of doctrinal conceptions, and as, moreover, new forms of error
require to be met by new forms of doctrinal expression, so the scrip-
tural phraseology cannot always be exactly the best adapted for the
antithetic determination of a dogmatic conception, and the fact that the
expressions employed are not to be met with in scripture cannot be
considered as exactly a valid objection to their employment. The
~Avocates of the Homoousion might very properly reply, on their own
part, that the only important thing was to determine that if not the
language, yet the conception which it designated, was derived substan-
tially from the Bible.?
But although this symbol appeared satisfactory to the doctrinal in-
terest of the ruling party in the Eastern church, yet the advocates of
the Anti-Arian system of unity had still this very circumstance tc
object to in it, that it still left a foothold for the whole Arian doc.
trine.?
1 Christ ὁ τοῦ ϑεοῦ λόγος, ϑεὸς ἐκ ϑεοῦ,
φῶς ἐκ φωτὸς, ζωὴ ἐκ ζωῆς, πρωτότοκος πάσης
τῆς κτίσεως, πρὸ πάντων τῶν αἰώνων ἐκ τοῦ
πατρὸς yeyevynuevoc. That Christ was ἃ
Divine Being, the Creator of all other ex-
istence, that he came into existence prior
to the whole temporal system, Arius also
certainly supposed; and between a γεννῆσις
ἐκ ϑεοῦ and κτίσις, there was, in fact, accord-
ing to his view, no difference.
2 'Ὁτὲ εἰ καὶ uj οὕτως ἐν ταῖς γραφαῖς low
αἱ λέξεις, ἄλλα τὴν ἐκ τῶν γραφῶν διανοίαν
ἔχουσι καὶ ταυτὴν ἐκφωνοῦμεναι σημαίνουσι.
Athanas. de decretis synodi Nicena, § 21.
3 Eusebius observes, in his pastoral letter,
that nobody could bring any objection
against this confession of faith. But Eus-
tathius of Antioch says, that this creed was
received with marks of universal disappro-
_ bation, and demolished before the eyes of
all. Eustathins, however, the warm oppo-
nent of Eusebius, is liable to suspicion in
what he here says. Moreover, his report
stands in contradiction with all we know
respecting the predominant tendency of
the Eastern church in this and the next
succeeding times. It is impossible to see
what could give offence to the Eastern bish-
ops in this symbol of faith. The fourth
Antiochian creed, which afterwards obtain-
ed especial authority with the major por-
tion of the Eastern church, coincided in
the main with this creed of Eusebius. The
Nicene creed itself manifestly grew out of
this Eusebian formula, with the simple ad-
ditions of the antitheses to Arianism, and
of the Homoousion. Besides, the account
of Athanasius evinces that the council was
in the first place satisfied with those gene-
ral definitions which alone Eusebius meant
to express. In his epistola ad Afros, § 5,
he says, that the bishops originally would
have established, instead of the Arian defi-
nitions, the expressions more generally
recognized, which were contained in the
scriptures themselves, (τὰς τῶν γραφῶν ὃμο-
λογουμένας λέξεις) as, for example, the ex-
pression ἐκ ϑεοῦ εἶναι τῇ φύσει, the expres-
sion that the Son was the δύναμις σοφία μονῆ
Tov πατρὸς, ϑεὸς αληϑινός, and this in fact
agrees entirely with that which Eusebius
designed. In the book de decretis s. n.,
Athanasius says, the intention at first was
simply to establish, that the Son of God
was the εἰκών τοῦ πατρὸς, ὁμοίος τε καὶ
ἀπαραλλώκτος κατὰ πάντα τῷ πατρὶ, καὶ
ἄτρεπτος καὶ αἔι καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ εἶναι ἀδιαιρέ-
τως. These definitions, too, agree very well
with the Eusebian system of doctrine, and
with the objects which he wished to accom-
plish at the council. Had these articles
only been established, then, for the present,
the internal controversies in the bosom of
the Oriental church would have been hushed.
It is also possible to reconcile the account
of Eustathius with the other accounts which
COUNCIL OF NICE. 375
- The party of the bishop Alexander was satisfied, it is true, with these
articles of faith ; but at the same time they declared, that, as the
expressions of this creed could still be explained by the Arians after
their own sense, it was absolutely necessary to add such other proposi-
tions as would effectually exclude the blasphemous doctrines of Arius ;
and this party had on its side the powerful suffrage of the emperor him-
self.1 Constantine had, without doubt, been brought to a decision, by
the influence of those bishops who happened last to possess the most
authority with him, namely, Hosius and his associates ; and he decided
in favor of the addition of the Homoousion. If we may credit the report
of Eusebius, the emperor himself even dogmatized on the question, how
the Homoousion ought to be understood ; how it was not to be conceived
under any image of sense, as if the one divine essence had been separ-
ated into several homogeneous parts.
we have cited, if we suppose that he is
speaking, not of a creed proposed by Euse-
_bius of Caesarea, but of one proposed by
Eusebius of Nicomedia, in which this latter,
to judge by the fragment quoted in Am-
brose, |. III. de fide, ο. 7, had endeavored to
defend the Arian conception of the Son of
God. Comp. Theodoret. I.7. Everything
goes, then. to confirm the fact of the prepon-
derance which originally existed of the Euse-
bian, or, as it was afterwards styled, Semi-
Arian party. In accordance with the truth,
and agreeing with Eusebius, Athanasius
also reports, that the council was not satis-
fied with these articles, for the very reason
that it was remarked that the Arians under-
stood and interpreted them in their own
way. But when now he proceeds to de-
rive the additions inserted in opposition to
Arianism, and with a view to preclude the
ossibility of its introduction, from the same
ishops who had at first proposed these other
articles, he must, without any doubt, have
here confounded the two parties together.
In truth, it is, abstractly considered, in the
highest degree improbable, that those who
aimed at a marked opposition to Arianism,
would, in the first place, propose articles
respecting which they knew beforehand,
that the Arians would be willing to sub-
scribe to them. Besides it might not be so
easy, in considering the transactions of so
numerous an assembly, where everything
perhaps did not proceed according to the
strictest order, accurately to discriminate
what belonged to the different parties, es-
pecially for one who himself contemplated
the whole under the bias of a party inter-
est. So, in fact, Eustathius of Antioch says
himself: Τὸ σαφὲς διὰ τὸν τῆς πολυανόρίας
ὄχλον oby’ οἷός τε εἴμι γράφειν.
1 Athanasius represents everything as
proceeding solely from the bishops them-
selves, and makes no mention whatever of
the influence of the emperor;— which, at
his particular point of view, was natural.
But Eusebius represents everything as
This might have been a point
proceeding in the first place solely from the
emperor. The latter calls upon the bishops
to adopt the creed of Eusebius, and simply
to add to it the word Homoousion, the right
way of understanding which he explains.
From these additional clauses, reeommend-
ed by the emperor himself, the bishops were
led to make several other antithetic addi-
tions; and thus arose the Nicene creed.
Athanasius and Eusebius may both be
right, and both be wrong, — both, according
to their different party-interest, giving prom-
inence to one thing, and suppressing anoth-
er. The proposal concerning the Homoou-
sion may first have come from the part of
the bishops. But as it met with opposition,
the emperor, whom the bishop Hosius of
Cordova and others had made familiar with
the part which, in pursuance of their ob-
jects, he was to play at the council, took up
the word, recommended the Homoousion,
and declared himself to be satisfied of the
inoffensiveness of this expression. There
may be some truth at bottom in the account
of Philostorgius, I. 7, that Alexander, pre-
viously to the opening of the Nicene coun-
cil, had combined with the party of the
bishop Hosius of Cordova, that is, with the
court-party in Nicomedia, at a synod to es-
tablish the Homoousion. ‘The voice of the
emperor had, with many bishops, more
weight than it ought to have had according
to the principles of the gospel. The party
of Alexander now ventured with the more
boldness to press the other antithetic defi-
nitions, which followed, as a matter of
course, the Homoousion. But Eusebius
preferred rather to have it appear that he
yielded to the authority of the emperor,
than to that of the other bishops; and he
imagined also that he could best justify his
conduct to his community, if he adduced
the authority of the emperor, — if he de-
clared that he had yielded to a formula
proposed and recommended by the emperor
himself.
376 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
often discussed in his presence ; since it was well known, that the occa-
sion which it gave for sensuous representations was the common objection
of the Orientals to the Homoousion. ‘The party of Alexander, who now
had on their side the weight of the imperial authority, proceeded to
require in addition to the Homoousion, still other antithetic clauses,
which had the same object in view. Perhaps it had been agreed on
by the heads of the dogmatical court-party at that time, that the decla-
ration of the emperor in favor of the Homoousion should be made the
watch-word for proposing a still more complete antithesis to Arianism.
In this way, by the union of the antithetic clauses with the articles of
faith proposed by Eusebius, was produced the famous Nicene creed.!
Moreover, the condemnation, by name, of the main characteristic pro-
positions of Arius was adopted into this creed ; and the condemnatory
sentence was passed not merely upon the doctrines, but, according to the
previous custom, doctrines and persons were put together, and the
individuals condemned also, who had proposed such offensive things.
Now although the majority of the council might perhaps agree in the
articles against that part of the Arian creed which placed the Son of
God ona level with creatures,” yet the definitions of the ὁμοούσιον and of
the γεννῆσις ἐκ τῆς οὐσίας were at variance with the prevailing Oriental
type of doctrine. Hence there arose much opposition to these defini-
tions: on the first day after they were presented, Eusebius of Czesarea
absolutely refused his assent to them.? But after many explanations,
he yielded for the sake of peace, as he says in the pastoral letter to his
church, which he sent from Nice,4—interpreting the new articles of the
creed according to the sense of his own doctrinal system, not without
some degree of disingenuous sophistry.® The principal article respecting
the Homoousion, which, in fact, had already been approved, even by
the peace-loving Dionysius of Alexandria, in another sense than that in
which it was intended to establish it at Nice, Eusebius, by taking ad-
vantage of the unsettled use of philosophical and doctrimal terms in
1 To the phrase ϑεός ἐκ ϑεοῦ was added,
in opposition to the Arian mode of under-
standing the idea of the Godhead in reference
to Christ (see above) the word ἀληϑινός ; —
to γεννηϑέντα, with a view to guard against
the Arian practice of identifying it with
κτίσϑεις, was added οὐ ποιηϑέντα.
2 The opposition between ϑεός and κτίσ-
— γεννᾷν and ποιεῖν.
8 Athanas. decret. S. ἢ. § 3. Πρὸ μίας
ἀρνοῦμενος, ὅμως ὕστερον ὑπογράψας.
4 Τοῦ τῆς εἰρήνης σκόπου πρὸ ὀφϑαλμῶν
ἡμῶν κειμένου.
5 This properly betrays itself only in the
case of one article, if Eusebius could ap-
prove the condemnation of the Arian pro-
position, that the Son of God πρὸ τοῦ γεννη-
Viva οὐκ Hv. This proposition of Arius
does in fact perfectly agree with Eusebius’s
system of faith, (see above;) and at least
some similar proposition seemed to himself
necessary, in order to hold fast the notion
of absolute causality, which was to be at-
tributed to God the Father alone. It was
a dubious matter, then, for him to join in
this anathema. He got along by a sophis-
tical interpretation, referriig the γεννηθῆναι,
in the condemned proposition, to the uman
birth; and so he found no difficulty, as he
himself declared, in receiving this also; as
in truth the doctrine of Christ's divine ex-
istence before his birth was one universally
acknowledged. By this last remark, how-
ever, he in fact refuted his own interpreta-
tion ; for how could it have occurred to any
one to set up a counter proposition to an
erroneous doctrine which nobody main-
tained? Athanasius was not slow to take
advantage of the weak spot which Eusebi-
us here exposed ; and objected to him that,
by such an interpretation, he threw the sus-
picion of entertaining such an erroncous
doctrine on his friend Arius himself, against
whom this condemnatory article had been
framed. \
COUNCIL OF NICE. 377
those times, could easily explain in accordance with his own views.
This proposition, according to his interpretation, denoted nothing else
than the exaltation of the Son of God above all comparison with cre-
ated beings, and his perfect likeness to the Father.! It perhaps may
be the case, that Eusebius, as he avowed in his pastoral letter, explained
himself before the council of Nice itself, with regard to the sense in
which he received the Homoousion. ‘The important point with the em-
peror Constantine was, that the proposition regarding the Homoousion,
of the importance of which he had been persuaded, should be received
by all: what the properly orthodox and what the heterodox sense might
be, in the interpretation of this article, it is hardly probable that he could
so nicely distinguish.? With perfect honesty, Eusebius might condemn the
Arian formulas, especially since they contained distinctions not to be
met with in scripture ; and since all the strife and confusion in the
church had grown out of the employment of such distinctions, the use
of which, therefore, he himself had always carefully avoided.
There were many others who adopted the Nicene creed in the same
sense with Eusebius, interpreting it in accordance with their own doe-
trinal system; so that the ὁμοούσιον was for them nothing. more than
a designation of the ὁμοιότης κατ᾽ οὐσίαν (likeness in respect to essence.)
At first, seventeen bishops, who probably belonged to the strictly Arian
party, declined to go with the majority. But as the creed was to be
made known under the imperial authority, and threatened all who
would not adopt it with the loss of their places and condemnation, as
refractory subjects,’ the greater part of these yielded through fear ; and
there remained, finally, but two bishops, besides Arius, namely Theonas
of Marmarica in Libya, and Secundus of Ptolemais, who declared with-
out reserve against the Nicene creed. The two zealous personal friends
of Arius themselves, Eusebius of Nicomedia, and Theognis of Nice, sub-
scribed the creed; declaring with Eusebius of Czesarea, that they
yielded for the sake of peace, after having expressed their views as to
the way in which it ought to be understood, so as to be free from all
objection.* Still they refused to subscribe, with the rest, the condem-
natory clauses against the Arian doctrines, not, as they avowed, because
they did not agree with the others as to the doctrinal matter, but
because, according to the way in which they had learned to understand
1 Παραστατικὸν τὸ μηδεμίαν éudepeiav he came into existence in ἐνεργείᾳ, already
πρὸς τὰ γεννητὰ κτίσματα τὸν viov τοῦ ϑεοῦ
φέρειν, μόνῳ δὲ τῷ πατρὶ κατὰ πώντα τρόπον
ὁμοίον εἶναι. When Athanasius, then, (de
decret. synod. nic. § 3,) accuses Eusebius of
having, by his approbation of the Homoou-
sion, in his pastoral letter, revoked his earlier
doctrine as being incorrect, the charge is
altogether untrue; for, as Eusebius express-
es himself, it is clear that he interpreted
this distinction only in aecordance with the
doctrinal system which he had constantly
taught.
2 If it is true, as Eusebius reports, that
the emperor interpreted the condemnation
of the proposition, πρὸ τοῦ γεννηϑῆναι οὐκ
ἦν, in the sense that the Son of God. before
VOL. II. 32"
existed, like all things else in the Father, in
dvvayet, —it would, we must admit, be ex-
ceedingly plain, how little familiar Constan-
tine was with the system he wouid defend,
and how easily he could be satisfied with
any interpretations, provided only the forms
were adhered to.
3 Contra divina statuta venientes, i. 6.
statuta imperatoris, according to the diplo-
matic language of those times. So Rufinus
expresses it, 1]. 5, in the sense of the empe-
ror.
4 For they were afterwards able to ap-
peal to the fact that they had done this, in
their memorial sent to the bishops, cited in
Socrates, I. 14.
378 THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY.
the doctrines of Arius from his written and oral communications, they
could not believe that he had actually taught the doctrines he was
accused of teaching. At that time the thing was overlooked; but Arius
and his two faithful friends were excommunicated, as teachers of error,
from the church, deposed from their spiritual office, and by the emperor
Constantine condemned to banishment. The latter was at this time
overflowing with a fanatical hatred of the doctrines of Arius, which now
appeared to him as blasphemous, and subversive of all Christianity ; and
this fanaticism impelled him already to apply all the expedients of the
Byzantine despotism to suppress these doctrmes entirely. In an edict
issued at this time, he places Arius in the same class with Porphyry,
the antagonist of Christianity ; and directed that all the writings of
Arius, as those of Porphyry, should be burned, — the penalty of death
even being threatened against those who should be detected in any
clandestine attempt to preserve these writings. While Constantine
was in this state of feeling, Eusebius and Theognis, who had already ren-
dered themselves suspected by the emperor in refusing to subscribe
the condemnatory clause, could not long remain protected against his
displeasure ; but it turned out, as Theonas and Secundus had foretold
them, that they soon shared the same fate with the latter. Three
months after the close of the council,! they also were deposed from their
places and banished.
In fact, however, the manner in which the controversies had been
decided by the council of Nice could only contain the seeds for new dis-
putes ; for there was here no cordial union springing freely, by a natural
course of development, out of inward conviction; but a forced and
artificial union of men, still widely separated by their different modes of
thinking, on a creed which had been imposed on them, and which was
differently expounded according to the different doctrinal interests of
the several parties. Thus it happened, that while for the present no
party ventured as yet to come out decidedly against the Homoousion,
still those who had received it, explaining it to mean Homoiousion,
accused the others, who interpreted it and held it fast in its proper and
original signification, of Sabellianism; while the latter accused the
former of Tritheism. We have an illustration of this in the disputes
between the bishop Eustathius of Antioch, and the bishop Eusebius of
Czesarea, —two men radically opposed to each other before, in their
whole theological bent ; the former being a zealous opponent, the other
a no less zealous adherent, of the school of Origen.
Yet the major part of the Eastern church would naturally strive to
rid themselves of the imposed articles of the Nicene creed ; and as
Constantine, without an independent judgment of his own and a well-
grounded insight into these doctrinal controversies, was governed by
the changing influence of the different parties at court, so that which
had procured for the Homoousion a momentary victory in the Hastern
church might soon take a turn in the very opposite direction. Con-
stantine’s sister Constantia, the widow of Licinius, who possessed great
1 Philostorg. I. 9.
CONSTANTINE CHANGES HIS OPINIONS. 379
influence with her brother, maintained the best understanding with
Eusebius of Czesarea ; and she had taken as her spiritual guide a pres-
byter who had attached himself to the Arian party, and who found
means of convincing her that Arius had been unjustly condemned.!
On her death, in the year 827, Constantia very earnestly recom-
mended the presbyter above mentioned to her brother. He acquired
the confidence of the emperor, and succeeded in persuading him also,
that injustice had been done to Arius, and that personal passions had
had much more to do in these disputes, than any interest in behalf of
sound doctrine. Constantine had already once invited Arius to visit
the court ; but the latter, it seems, could not feel confidence enough in
the emperor’s intentions. He now sent a second express message,
assuring Arius that it was the emperor’s purpose to show him favor,
and send him back to Alexandria. Arius presented to the emperor
a confession of faith, in which, without entering into the points of differ-
ence, he expressed in very general language his belief in the doctrine
of the Father, Son,? and-Holy Ghost, taught by scripture and by the
common tradition of the church. He besought the emperor to put a
stop to these idle controversies on mere speculative questions,’ so that
schisms might be healed, and all, united in one, might pray for the peace-
able reign of the emperor and for his whole family. Constantine was satis-
fied with this confession. Arius was again received to favor, (between the
years 328 and 829 ;) and his two friends, Theognis and Eusebins of
Nicomedia, were now easily enabled to obtain their recall. We per-
ceive from the confession of Arius, and from the satisfaction with which
Constantine received it, what were the prevailing views of the latter
respecting these matters at the present time. After having been
enlisted but for a short period in favor of the Hemoousion, he had been
drawn back again to those earlier views, which would so much more
readily present themselves to a layman contemplating the matter simply
in its outward aspects, that personal passions and a self-willed, disputa-
tious spirit had given to these questzons, which did not pertain in the
1 Might we place any reliance on the tes-
timony of the Arian historian, Philostor-
gius, h. e. I. 8, the advice of Constantia
had had some influence on the issue of the
Nicene council itself. As she must have
been well acquainted with her brother’s
habits, she advised her friends at the Nicene
council to receive for the present the Ho-
moousion, which her brother was now firm-
ly resolved to hold fast, and give it their
own interpretation;— means would ver
soon be found to draw him off from it
again.
? On this point the identity of the κτίσις
and γεννῆσις was presupposed, entirely in
accordance with his doctrine: Τὸν ἐς τοῦ
πατρὸς πρὸ πάντων αἰώνων γεγεννημένον
ϑεὸν λόγον, bt’ οὗ τὰ πάντα ἐγένετο.
8 “Ζητήματα καὶ περισσολογίαι.
* The arguments which have been urged
against the genuineness of the above-cited
letter of these two bishops, by which they
sought to be restored to favor, are not de-
cisive ; many of them being simply grounded
on the view which must be taken of the
Nicene council in the Catholic church.
This letter possesses, on the contrary, every
mark of genuineness. But, according to
this letter, we must necessarily place the
recall of Arius before the return of these
two bishops, as the letter expressly presup-
poses it. The reasons which induced Walch
to place the recall of Arius at a later period,
even so late as A.D. 330, are not important ;
for although Socrates says that Arius had
been called by the emperor to Constantino-
ple, yet it by no means follows from this,
that the consecration of the new residence,
A.D. 330, had preceded ; for first, as it re-
spects the place, Socrates might easily be
in an error, and by an anachronism substi-
tute Constantinople for Nicomedia; or it
may even be, that Constantine happened at
the very time that he sent for Arius, to be at
Byzantium, before that city had as yet been
converted into the imperial residence
3880 ATHANASIUS BISHOP OF ALEXANDRIA.
least to the essentials of Christianity, an undue importance. The em-
peror entertaining this view of the matter, all who agreed in represent-
ing the doctrinal differences as unimportant would especially recommend
themselves to his favor ; while all who were unwilling, for the sake of
gratifying the emperor, to moderate their zeal in behalf of a truth which
they found to be intimately connected with the essence of Christianity,
would easily become suspected and hated by him, as uneasy, conten-
tious, and disorderly men.
Hence may be explained the contests which, first and preémi-
nently, the remarkable person had to pass through who had now
become the head of the Homoousion party in the Eastern church. For
soon after the conclusiun of the council of Nice, the bishop Alexander
had died, and was succeeded by the archdeacon Athanasius, a man far
his superior in intellect and resolute energy. Athanasius had probably
been already, up to this very time, the soul of the party in favor of the
Homoousion ; and it was by his influence that the bishop Alexander had
been led to decide that nothing should be yielded in order to the
restoration of Arius.!_ Moreover, he had already distinguished himself
at the Nicene council, by the zeal and acuteness with which he de-
fended the doctrine of the unity of essence, and combated Arianism.
By pursuing, with strict consistency and unwavering firmness, during an
active life of nearly half a century, and amid every variety of fortune
and many persecutions and sufferings, the same object, in opposition to
those parties whose doctrinal views were either unsettled in themselves,
or liable to veer about with every change of the air at court, he contribut-
ed in a great measure to promote the victory of the Homoousion in the
Eastern church. If we consider the connection of thoughts and ideas
in the doctrinal system of this father, we shall doubtless be led to see,
that, in contending for the Homoousion, he by no means contended for
a mere speculative formula, standing in no manner of connection with
what constitutes the essence of Christianity ; that, in this controversy,
it was by no means a barely dialectic or speculative interest, but
in reality an essentially Christian interest, which actuated him. On
the holding fast to the Homoousion depended, in his view, the whole
unity of the Christian consciousness of God, the completeness of the
revelation of God in Christ, the reality of the redemption which
Christ wrought, and of the communion with God restored by him
toman. “1 Christ,’ so argued Athanasius against the Arian doc-
trine, ‘ differed from other creatures simply as being the only creature
immediately produced by God, his essence being wholly distinct from
the essence of God, then he could not bring the creature into fel-
Jowship with God, since we must be constrained to conceive of some-
thing still, intermediate between him, as a creature, and the divine
essence which differed from him, something whereby he might stand in
communion with God ; — and this intermediate being would be precisely
the Son of God in the proper sense. In analyzing the conception of
God communicated to the creature, it would. be necessary to arrive at
1 For one of the charges brought against him by his opponents, see Athanas: apolog.
c. Arianos, § 6.
REFUSES TO RECEIVE ARIUS. 381
last at the conception of that which requires nothing intermediate in
order to communion with God ;— which does not participate in God’s
essence as something foreign from itself, but which is itself the self-
communicating essence of God.! This is the only Son of God, the
being who can be so called in the proper sense. The expressions Son
of God, and divine generation, are of a symbolical nature, and denote
simply the communication of the divine essence. It is only on the
supposition that Christ is, in this sense alone, the proper Son of God,
that he can make rational creatures children of God. It is the Logos
who imparts himself to them, dwells within them, through whom they
live in God —the Son of God within them, through the fellowship with
whom they become themselves children of God.” It is here seen how
to Athanasius the idea of the Homoousion presented itself in connection
with what constitutes the root and groundwork of the entire Christian
life. While the Arians maintained, that it was impossible to distinguish
the conceptions Son of God and a generation from God, from the con-
ceptions created being and a creation, without falling into sensuous,
anthropomorphic representations, Athanasius, on the contrary, taught
that all human expressions of God were of a symbolic nature, taken
from temporal things, and therefore liable to be misconceived, unless
the idea lying at the bottom were freed from the elements of time and
sense, and the same attribute, predicated of God, understood in a different
manner from what it would be when predicated of creatures. Even God’s
act of creation, in order not to be misconceived, must be distinguished
from the human mode of producing and forming. As the Arians admit-
ted that, according toJohn ὃ : 23 , divine worship belonged to Christ, Atha-
nasius accused them of showing that honor to a creature, according to
their notions of Christ, which was due to God alone; consequently, of fall-
ing into idolatry. From this coherence of the doctrines which Athanasius
here defended with his whole Christian consciousness, it may be well
conceived that he must have considered himself bound by his duty, as a
pastor, not to admit into his church a teacher who held forth a system
which appeared to him to be so thoroughly unchristian.
After the patrons of Arius had resorted in vain to friendly repre-
sentations, petitions, and threats, for the purpose of inducing Athanasius
to receive back the former into the church, the emperor commanded
him to receive Arius, and all his friends who were willing to connect
themselves once more with his church; and, unless he did so, informed
him that he should be deposed from his station, and sent into exile.?
Athanasius, however, was not to be intimidated by such threats, but
firmly declared to the emperor, that his duty as a pastor did not permit
him to receive the teachers of false doctrines into the fellowship of the
church ; and this steadfast refusal of a man acting under the conscious-
ness of his vocation, and in the feeling of his duty, produced so much
1 See e.g. Athanas. orat. I. ¢. Arianos, 2 A fragment of the letter is preserved in
§ 16. Τὸ ὅλως μετέχεσϑαι τὸν ϑεὸν, ἴσον Athanasius, apolog. c. Arian. § 59. The
ἔστι λέγειν ὁτὶ καὶ γεννᾷ. ---- Αὐτὸς μὲν ὁ υἷος threatening words of the emperor are:
οὐδενὸς μετέχει, τὸ δὲ Ex τοῦ πατρὸς μετεχό- ᾿Αποστελλῶ παραύτικα τὸν καὶ καϑαιρῇσοντά
μενον, τοῦτό ἐστιν ὁ υἷος, αὐτοῦ γὰρ τοῦ υἱοῦ σε ἐξ ἐμῆς κελεύσεως καὶ TOV τόπων μεταστῇ
μετεχόντες͵ τοὺ ϑεοῦ μετέχειν λεγόμεϑα. σοντα
882 CHARGES AGAINST ATHANASIUS.
effect as this, that Constantine did not urge him: farther, nor carry his
threat into execution. But still this incident could not have left an
altogether favorable impression on the emperor’s mind, since Atha-
nasius appeared to him in the light of an obstinate recusant ; and hence
his enemies would be more easily listened to in bringing their new
accusations against him. The most weighty charge was, that Athanasius
had sent to a person in Egypt — otherwise unknown to us, but who was re-
ported to have harbored’a design of conspiracy against the emperor -— a
sum of money to aid him in the prosecution of his purpose. Constantine
ordered him, A.D. 332, to present himself personally, at Psammathia,
a suburb of Nicomedia, where the emperor was residing at that time.
The personal appearance of Athanasius, a man of remarkable power
over the minds of others, seems for the moment to have over-awed the
soul of Constantine. He not only acknowledged the above-mentioned
accusation to be groundless ; but such was the effect left on him by the
presence of Athanasius, that, in his letter to the church at Alexandria,
he styles him a man of God.! In this letter, he lamented the existing
divisions, and recommended charity and concord. It is easy to see,
that the preservation of peace and unity in the church was of far more
importance, in the estimation of Constantine, than all matters pertaining
to doctrine. For the moment, the enemies of Athanasius now appeared
to him to be the authors of the disturbances and divisions ; but this im-
pression was of no long duration, and he continued to be governed by the
influence sometimes of this and sometimes of the other party. Occasions
were not wanting for bringing new accusations against Athanasius ; for
in the circumstances by which he was immediately surrounded, there
existed abundant materials for agitation, which was sometimes rather
excited than quelled by his zeal not unmixed with passion. It happened,
for instance, that the Arian and the Meletian schisms, though originating
in widely diferent interests, yet broke out there at one and the same time.
The efforts of Athanasius to bring back the Meletians to the dominant:
church might, besides, especially amidst so excitable and passionate a
people as the Alexandrians, easily lead to scenes of disturbance, pro-
ceeding to a greater length than those who were the occasion of them,
intended. But he was sometimes induced to resort even to forcible
measures for suppressing divisions in his archepiscopal diocese.2 The
frequent tours of visitation, which as a conscientious bishop he made to
the various parts of his diocese, and in which he was usually accom-
panied by individuals belonging both to the clergy and laity of the
churches which he visited, gave frequent occasion for such disputes
between the two heated parties, which led to scenes of violence. - Pas-
sionate party hatred would, of course, take advantage of these occasions
to collect against him a mass of extravagant charges. Although the
emperor could not give credence to the various and strange things
which were brought against him, yet he believed, doubtless, that
Athanasius, by his passionate and violent proceedings, might have
1 Apolog. 6. Arian. § 62. Athanasius, says of him in this respect,
2 Epiphanius, who assuredly would say heres. 68, Meletian. ἠνάγκαζεν, ἐβιάζετο
nothing tending to the disparagement of
THE SYNOD OF TYRE. 383
given some occasion for these charges.! He at first, in the year 335,
appointed a synod to be held under the presidency of Eusebius of Ceesarea,
with full powers to inquire into the charges laid against Athanasius, and to
restore things to quiet. Athanasius might, not without good reason,
protest against the decision of a spiritual tribunal, at which his declared
antagonist presided as judge. But as it had been determined by the
emperor to celebrate the tricennalian festival of his reign by dedicat-
ing, on that occasion, the magnificent church which he had erected over
the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem, and many bishops had been invited to
participate im this celebration, Constantine directed, in order that they
might be prepared to engage in these solemn rites with quiet minds, that
they should first take earnest measures for putting an end to the
divisions in the church. For this purpose, the bishops were to assemble,
first, at Tyre, in the year 335, and there inquire into the charges brought
against Athanasius. The latter might, indeed, very justly, for the
same reasons as in the case of the first synod above mentioned, protest
also against this spiritual tribunal, whose members belonged, for the
most part, to the opposite party ; but Constantine threatened to enforce
his obedience by compulsion, if he presumed again to treat with con-
tempt the imperial command.? Athanasius succeeded, before this tribunal,
to refute a part of the charges which were laid against him. With regard
to the rest, a committee was nominated, who should repair to Egypt,
and investigate everything on the spot. But it was unfairly decreed,
that no one belonging to the party of the accused shoyld be allowed to
accompany this commission, so that he was curtailed of the means of
proving his innocence, and wholly abandoned to the party proceedings
of his antagonists. ‘This investigation, conducted in‘so partial a man-
ner, would of course turn out unfavorably for Athanasius. He therefore
appealed to the emperor himself, and proceeded to Constantinople. On
his entrance into the city, he rode straightway to meet the emperor,
accompanied by a few attendants. Constantine at first refused to allow
1Jn the letter to the synod at Tyre, he
speaks only of some, who, through the rage
of a morbid disputatious spirit, embroiled
everything. Οὐχ ὑγίους φίλονεικίας οἴστρῳ
τινὲς ἐλαυνόμενοι πάντα σύγχεειν ἐπιχειροῦ-
ow. Kuseb. vit. Constantin. 1. IV. ο. 42.
Even Eusebius of Caesarea, whose delicacy
deserves respectful notice in touching so
lightly upon the Arian controversies in his
life of Constantine, even he sees, in this in-
stance, only the taunting insinuations of an
immoderate disputatious spirit L.c. ὁ. 41.
2 We may here introduce a characteristic
anecdote from the history of this tribunal.
Among the witnesses who appeared in fa-
vor of Athanasius, was an old confessor of
Egypt, by the name of Potamon, who, in
the time of the Dioclesian persecution, had
been thrown into prison at the same time
with Eusebius, and who had had one of his
eyes bored out. This person, full of zeab
for Athanasius, said to Eusebius: “Who
can tolerate this? ‘Thou sittest there to
judge Athanasius, who stands before thee
an innocent person! Dost thou recollect,
that we were in the dungeon together, and
that I was deprived of an eye? But thou
didst not become a martyr, and hast all thy
members still unharmed. How couldst
thou have so escaped from the prison, un-
less thou didst either do what was not per-
mitted, or else profess thy willingness to do
it?” This was unquestionably an infer-
ence on very slender grounds; for many
circumstances might operate to cause favor
to be shown to one which was denied to
another. Eusebius thought it. not proper
to vindicate himself against this charge, but
simply said, losing for a moment the equa-
nimity, indeed, which it behooved him to
possess as a judge: “Shall we not now be-
lieve your accusers? If you venture to
exercise such tyranny here, how much more
will you do it in your own country!” See
Epiphan. 1. ο.
334 ATHANASIUS BANISHED.
him a hearing ; yet, as he received accounts from other quarters of the
party proceedings of the synod at Tyre, he saw no way in which he could
decline a revision of the previous investigation. But afew members of
that synod, the most violent enemies of Athanasius, appeared at Constanti-
nople, to take part in this new investigation. On the present occasion
they let the earlier accusations drop, and brought against him a new
one, which was altogether suited to exasperate the feelings of Constan-
tine against Athanasius.1_ He was reported to have said, that it lay in
his power to hinder the arrival of the convoy of grain necessary to be
sent semi-annually from Alexandria to supply provisions for the city of
the imperial residence. Whether the truth really was that Constan-
tine in some sort believed this charge, or whether he only deemed it
necessary to affect that he believed it, in order to get rid of a man who
was a constant mark and butt of contention, and thus restore quiet, it is
enough that he banished him, A.D. 336, to Triers.°
As nothing now stood in the way of the restoration of Arius to the
Alexandrian church, he was, after having been solemnly received back
into the communion of the church by the synod convened at Jerusalem
for the purpose of consecrating the new edifice, sent back to Alexandria.
But in the community, which was devoted with an enthusiastic attach-
ment to their bishop Athanasius, new disturbances arose. Constantine,
to whom the preservation of peace was the main thing, sent, A.D. 336,
for Arius to come to Constantinople, in order that it might be examined
how far he had been concerned in these disturbances. He was obliged
to present to the emperor a confession of faith ; and drew up one in
simple language, couched in scriptural expressions, without doubt similar
to the former one already mentioned. He needed not to deny his con-
victions in order to satisfy the emperor; for although the latter was
unwilling absolutely to relinquish the Homoousion, since it had been
once published under the imperial sanction, yet, notwithstanding all
this, he was far from being inclined to the views of Athanasius. But
the sincerity of Arius in his confession had been suspected by him. He
required of him an oath to testify his sincerity ; and, as the confession
Arius had laid down contained nothing, judged from his own point of
view, which was at variance with his doctrines, he would take such an
oath with a clear conscience.*
1 For, according to Eunapius, (see above,)
he is said to have caused the pagan philos-
opher, Sopatros, to be executed on a similar
charge.
2 Whether this had reference to the po-
litical influence of Athanasius, or to the
magical arts ascribed to him, is uncertain.
3°'The observation of Constans, in the
letter written after his father’s death, re-
specting the disposition of the latter towards
Athanasius, and the vacancy of the episco-
pate at Alexandria, may render it rather
probable than otherwise, that it was Con-
stantine’s intention to remove Athanasius
only for a short season, with a view to the
restoration of quiet.
4 Τῇ comparing the different accounts of
these events, we perceive how the truth
here became continually more and more
distorted by the prejudices of party hatred.
Socrates, I. 38, following Sozomen and
Theodoret, relates that Constantine asked
Arius, whethey he abode by the articles of
the Nicene council. Arius immediately de-
clared himself ready to subscribe the Nicene
creed.- The emperor, surprised at this, re-
quired of him an oath, and Arius gave it
but, in so doing, resorted to the following
artifice. He had a confession, drawn up by
, himself, which truly expressed his convic-
tions, concealed under his shoulders; and in
giving the oath, that he so believed as he
CONSTANTINE SATISFIED WITH ARIUS’ CONFESSION.
3385
Constantine being now perfectly convinced of the orthodoxy of Arius,
the latter was to be solemnly received back to the fellowship of the
church at the celebration of public worship in Constantinople.
It hap-
pened to be a Sabbath, (Saturday ;) on which day, as well as Sunday,
public worship was held at Constantinople (see above.) Alexander,
bishop of Constantinople, a zealous advocate of the Homoousion, reso-
lutely refused to admit him.
But the patrons of Arius, among the
ecclesiastical court party, threatened to bring it about forcibly, by an
imperial command, on the following day. Alexander was thus thrown
had written, he sophistically understood by
this, not the Nicene creed subscribed by him
at the requisition of the emperor, but that
which he carried concealed about his per-
son. This story will appear, on closer ex-
amination, to be wanting in the internal
marks of probability. How should Con-
stantine, who before this had been so easily
satisfied with the confession of faith laid
down by Arius, and had required of him
no declaration whatever respecting the Ni-
cene creed, have now made on him so much
higher demands? How could he propose
to him the question, whether he honestly
followed the Nicene council, when Arius
had given no occasion whatever for pre-
suming any such thing? Nothing, more-
over, could at that time certainly lie more
remote from the intentions of. Constantine,
who at this very moment stood in the
closest relations with those bishops that
were decidedly opposed to the Nicene creed,
than such a zeal for its articles. Every-
thing went right with jim, provided only
the Nicene creed as to its form was not
publicly attacked ;— provided only it was
ignored. It may be conceived, therefore,
that Constantine might. be easily satisfied
with a confession of faith from Arius simi-
lar to that which he had handed over to
him on the former occasion. Besides, how
insufficient is. the youcher which Socrates
gives for the truth of this story! That
Arius had at that time drawn up a confes-
sion of faith and given his oath to it, this
Socrates knew from letters of the emperor
himself; and this, therefore, was an unde-
niable fact. But the rest he had derived
from the most impure of all sources, from
mere hearsay, — ἀκόη. If, then, we had only
this account of the matter, we might even then
be enabled to infer, that the confession of
faith subscribed by Arius was in no sense the
Nicene creed, but that, merely in flattery
to the reputation of Constantine for ortho-
doxy, it was converted into the Nicene
creed, and that on this was fastened the
charge of deception against the heretic.
This conjecture respecting the true history
of the matter, to which the analysis of
Socrates’ account would itself conduct us,
is confirmed by consulting the report of
Athanasius. In his epistola ad episcopos
Zigypti et Libyx, § 18, he says, Arius,
VOL. 11. 33
when called upon by the emperor to present
a confession of his faith, concealed hypo-
critically his godless way of thinking under
simple expressions borrowed from the scrip-
tures: Ἔγραψεν ὁ δόλιος, κρύπτων μὲν τὰς
idiag τῆς ἀσεβείας λέξεις, ὑποκρινόμενος δὲ
καὶ αὐτὸς, ὡς ὁ διώβολος, τὰ τῶν γραφῶν ῥῆ-
ματα ἁπλᾶ καὶ ὥς ἐστι γεγραμμένα. And
when the emperor thereupon required him
.to take an oath that he had nothing else in
his mind, he swore that he had never other-
wise taught or conceived. In the same
manner he speaks in the epistola ad Sera-
pionem, § 2, with this difference only, that
he represents him here as swearing that he
had not really taught those doctrines, of
which the bishop Alexander had accused
him. At all events, it is evident that Ath-
anasius brings against Arius the charge of
deception and hypocrisy in a way altogether
unjustitiable, when he proceeds on the false
assumption, that Arius was obliged to un-
derstand the words of scripture in which he
expressed his cenfession, precisely after the
same manner-as he himself (Athanasius)
understood them; and that, in swearing to
the doctrines therein expressed, he there-
fore incurred the guilt of hypocrisy and
perjury. The fact having now been once
assumed, that Arius, in this case, descended
to trickery, and the confession of faith then
drawn up by him having been lost, the
Nicene creed was easily substituted in its
place, and the way in which the heretic had
managed to deceive was ever liable to re-
ceive new decorations. We might even be
tempted to venture a step farther. The
confession of faith drawn up the first time
by Arius, agrees so perfectly with all the
characters which Athanasius in the passage
above cited ascribes to the second, that we
might believe that there had been but this
one confession of faith; and that either
Athanasius, failing to express himself in
those passages with chronological accuracy,
had transposed the confession of faith which
Arius presented immediately after his re-
turn from exile, on his first residence at
Constantinople, to his second residence in
the same city; or Socrates committed an
anachronism in making Arius present such
a confession of faith directly on his first
residence at Constantinople.
386 SUDDEN DEATH OF ARIUS.
into great perplexity and embarrassment. He prostrated himself, as it
is related, on the pavement before the altar, and prayed God either to
remove fim from this life, that he might not be compelled to act con-
trary to his conscience, or else to remove Arius; which, it must be
confessed, was not a very Christian prayer. On the evening of this
same day, Arius suddenly died.! | Well might this turn of events, which
no human sagacity could have foreseen, be regarded as demonstrating
the vanity of all human machinations, since all that which was to be
enforced by imperial power was thus frustrated at a blow. But it
showed a sad want of Christian charity, when men were seen triumph-
ing over the sudden death of the supposed blasphemer, as a divine
judgment. It argued narrow-minded presumption, that they should
think of measuring the unsearchable ways of holy, all-wise, and eternal
love, according to visible appearances and by the standard of human
passions and prejudices ; should be disposed to see, in this event, a
declarative sentence from on high, deciding between truth and error,
a divine judgment on perjury and impiety ; when the truth was, that
Arius erred from honest conviction ; that he had sworn to nothing but
what he sincerely believed ; and that he may possibly have had, at
least in his internal life, more of the Christian temper, than exhibited
itself in the defective exposition of his belief. Even Athanasius was, in
this instance, borne along with the prevailing current of opinion in his
age ; yet we remark with pleasure, that when he was about to describe
the death of Arius, as connected with this controversy, his Christian
feelings recoiled. Thmuis, the bishop of Serapion, having made several
inquiries of him respecting the Arian controversy, and also respecting
the death of Arius, he declared that to the first he had cheerfully
replied, but to the last not without a struggle; for he feared lest it
might seem as if he triumphed over the death of the man. And in
another place, he introduces this account with a remark which surely
ought to have led him to suppress it altogether : ?— “ Death is the com-
mon lot of allmen. We should never triumph over the death of any
man, even though he be our enemy ; since no one can know but that
before evening the same lot may be his own.” ‘The adherents of
Arius, on the other hand, sought to account for his sudden demise by a
supernatural cause of another kind, which implicated their opponents.
They spread it abroad that Arius had been cut off by the sorceries of
his enemies.’ ‘This accusation is of some importance, as ἐξ shows there
was no possible ground for suspecting that he was poisoned.
With the death of Arius, this contest could not cease; for the per-
‘sonal character of the man had little to do with it. It was, in truth, a
contest between different doctrinal tendencies springing up out of the
1 Here, too, we have an instance of the
exaggeration of rumor. According to Soc-
rates’ report, the death occurred while Arius
was proceeding in triumph from the impe-
rial palace. On his way to the church, he
was suddenly seized with extreme pain, ac-
companied with relaxation of the bowels:
in discharging from them, he expired. The
last-mentioned fact had some foundation;
but the order of time has been altered to
favor the miraculous aspect of the occur-
rence; for, according to the report of Atha-
nasius, the death of Arius took place on
the evening of this Sabbath.
2 Ad episcopos gypti et Libya, § 19
8 Sozom. hist. eccles. 1. II. c. 29
CONSTANTIUS AND HIS COURT. 387
development of Christian doctrine, to the outbreak of which Arius had
only given the first impulse ; and it was not until thes contest itself had
been decided, that peace could be restored again to the church. Add
to this, that the contest between proper Arianism and the doctrine of
the Homoousion gradually passed over into the contest between the
major part of the Eastern church, and the minority who adhered firmly
to the Homoousion creed. The death of Arius made a difference in
but one respect, that, while before several important men of the middle
party above described had been deterred, by their personal interest
in favor of Arius, from distinctly condemning his peculiar doctrines,
they now hesitated no longer to renounce all manner of connection with
him, so as to be able simply to declare— what to them seemed the
only important thing — their opposition to the Homoousion. In addi-
tion to this, another event, connected with consequences of more
universal moment, soon ensued, — the death of Constantine, in 337.
His son Constantius, who succeeded him in the empire of the East, was
inclined, even much more than his father had been, to intermeddle with
the internal affairs of the church. The emperor Constantine had not,
at least, in the theologian forgotten the emperor, — had not lost sight of
the political interest, in his concern for matters of doctrine. But this
easily came to be the case with Constantius. If Constantine had, for a
moment, suffered himself to be drawn mto too warm a participation in
theological controversies, yet, after he was made aware of the mischiey-
ous consequences of such a course, he soon reverted to the principle of
holding fast stmply to the interests of peace and quiet. It was not so with
Constantius. ‘The latter engaged in doctrinal controversies in the same
way as if he were a bishop, only clothed with the power of an emperor.
His mistake with regard to the limits of his prinéely authority — which
he extended to things lying beyond its rightful province — brought its
own punishment along with it; for, while he imagined everything was
directed by his own will, he was only the servant of others, who knew
hogy to govern him,! and particularly of the ewnuwchs, who, in their
capacity of chamberlains,? possessed unbounded power at his court.?
Now it was precisely in this quarter that the Anti-Nicene party acquired
the greatest influence. That very Arian presbyter, for instance, who
stood so high in the confidence of the emperor Constantine, had handed
over his will to his son Constantius, and thus opened for himself a way
of access to the latter. He was attached to the court, and succeeded
in gaining over to the interests of his own system of faith the first cham-
berlain Eusebius, and by his means the other eunuchs, the empress,
and finally the emperor himself. Thus the doctrinal controversies of
the day became the fashionable topic of conversation at court. Hence,
it spread to the people of high rank, and then still lower down ; so
that, as Socrates expresses it, a war of dialectics was carried on in
every family; or, as Gregory of Nyssa relates, the Homoousion came to
1 Athanas. hist. Arianor. ad monachos. 8 Athanas.1.c. Πόλλοι δὲ, μάλλον δὲ τὸ
4.70. Mer’ ἐλευϑέρου σχήματος καὶ ὀνόμα- ὅλον εἴσιν εὐνοῦχοι παρὰ Κωνσταντίῳ καὶ
τος δοῦλος τῶν ἑλκόντων αὐτόν. πάντα δύνανται πὰρ᾽ αὐτῷ.
2 Prepositi sacri cubiculi. 4 Socrat. IT ?
888 RETURN OF ATHANASIUS.
be discussed in the baker’s shops, at the tables of the money-changers,
and even in the market for old clothes. These effects, however, did not
develope themselves in their whole extent, till at a somewhat later
period.!
The immediate consequence of the change of government was, that
Constantine the younger, who had obtained the government over a part
of the West, sent back Athanasius once more to Alexandria, with a -
letter to his community, in which he declared, that his father had
already entertained the same purpose, and had been prevented from exe-
cuting it only by his death. Athanasius was received by his com-
munity with enthusiastic expressions of love, and entered once more,
with his wonted zeal, into his former field of labor. He could not fail,
however, to come into frequent collision with the small remaining party
of the Arians and the Meletians. The enemies of Athanasius, who at
the synod of Tyre had pronounced upon him the sentence of deposition,
and who still refused to acknowledge him as a regular bishop, strove to
kindle the fires of discord into a fiercer flame. ‘They had given to the
Arian party, as their bishop, a presbyter named Pistus, who never suc-
ceeded, however, in establishing his own authority. They afterwards
accused Athanasius of resorting to violence at his restoration, — of
procuring executions and the infliction of civil penalties, and of employ-
ing for this purpose the provincial magistrates as his instruments. But
the friends of Athanasius? were enabled to show, that what was imputed
to him had been done by the provincial magistrates, independently of
Athanasius, while he was still on his journey, and without any connec-
tion whatever with the doctrinal controversies ; and, beyond question,
the passion and rancor of a portion of his antagonists prepared them to
believe anything. Meantime, the last-mentioned party, assured of their
power over the emperor Constantius, took advantage of a festival at the
dedication of a church receritly erected by him at Antioch, to open
there, in the year 341, a new ecclesiastical assembly. Here the sen-
tence of deposition, previously passed upon Athanasius, was confirméd,
partly under the pretext that he had allowed himself, after having been
removed by a spiritual tribunal, to be restored to his place, without any
new ecclesiastical inquiry and barely by the secular power,® — although
Athanasius had not recognized that former council as a regular spiritual
tribunal, and although his opponents did not scruple, in other matters,
to carry out many of their measures by the hand of regular power, —
and in part by bringing up several new charges against him. ΑΒ it
was known how confidently Athanasius might rely on having the coun-
1 A remarkably vivid picture of this rage
for doctrinal dispute among all ranks of
people in Constantinople, is drawn by
Gregory of Nyssa, in his Oratio de Deitate
Filii et Spiritus Sancti, T. IIT. f. 466: “Every
corner and nook of the city is full of men
who discuss incomprehensible subjects ; the
streets, the markets, the people who sell old
clothes; those who sit at the tables of the
money-changers, those who deal in provis-
ions. Ask a man how many oboli it comes
to, he gives you a specimen of dogmatizing
on generated and ungenerated being. In-
quire the price of bread, you are answered,
‘ The Father is greater than the Son, and the
Son subordinate to the Father’ Ask if the
bath is ready, and you are answered, * The
Son of God was created from nothing.’”
2 See the Alexandrian synodal letter
apolog. contra Arian. § 3.
8 To this the twelfth canon of this coun
cil refers
JULIUS, BISHOP OF ROME, DECLARES FOR HIM. 389
tenance of the Western church, in which the doctrine of the Homoousion
predominated ; how much sympathy he met with during his first resi-
dence there, inasmuch as the power of Constantius did not extend into
the West ; it must have been feared, that what was undertaken to be
done against Athanasius would occasion a breach between the two
churches of the East and of the West. This it was desired, if possible,
to avoid. Delegates therefore were sent to the Western emperor Con-
stans, and to the bishop Julius, of Rome. These delegates set forth the
charges which had been laid against Athanasius, and sought to gain
the assent of the Roman bishop, and, through him, of the more impor-
tant bishops of the West. But Athanasius also sent some presbyters
of his own clergy to Rome, to defend him against these charges. They
succeeded in refuting the accusations ; and the deputies of the other
party, in their embarrassment, let fall certain expressions which the
Roman bishop ! could, at least, so interpret as if they had appealed to
the decision of a new and larger synod. He at once accepted this
appeal ; for very welcome to him was such an opportunity of establish-
ing his own supreme judicial authority. He mvited both parties, by
their delegates, to present their cause before a synod to be assembled
under his own presidency. But it had never entered the thoughts of
the dominant party among the Orientals to concede to him any such
supreme judicial authority. They looked upon it as a very strange
affair, that he should so have misunderstood them. As their prede-
cessors had not obtruded themselves, in the Novatian disputes, as
judges over the Western church, so neither did it become him to
obtrude himself as a judge in these controversies of the Eastern church :
he was not to suppose, that, because he presided as bishop over a larger
city, that he was on that account of any more consequence than other
bishops.”
Meanwhile, as the above-mentioned Pistus found it impossible to
acquire any authority at Alexandria, having been perhaps from the
first jostled along to that office by the intrigues of a few, the bishops
who were now assembled at Antioch named as bishop of Alexandria, in
place of Athanasius, a certain Cappadocian of a violent and headstrong
temper, by the name of Gregorius. In the name of the emperor, he
was installed as bishop of Alexandria by an armed force ; and those
1 We have in this case, to be sure, only
the report of one party; viz. the Roman-
Athanasian.
2 To this objection the Roman bishop,
Julius, gave a very adroit and keen reply,
which doubtless must have been felt by
many of these bishops, whose unclerical
ambition interested them so much in the
business of exchanging their bishoprics in
small towns for those in the principal cities
and capitals; as, for example, Eusebius of
Nicomcdia, who contrived to get his bishop-
ric of Berytus in Pheenicia exchanged for
that of Nicomedia, once the imperial seat
of the East Roman empire, and then this
bishopric for that of Constantinople. “ If
*
VOL. Il.
you really consider,” he writes to them, § 6,
“the dignity of the bishops to be equal;
and if, as you write, you do not estimate
bishops by the greatness of the cities where
they preside, then he to whom a small town
has been entrusted should remain in the
place to which he was appointed, and nei-
ther despise the flock committed to his care,
nor pass over to those which have not been
entrusted to him; thus despising the honor
which God confers on him, (I suppose that
in this place the word δόξης must have fal-
len out after δοϑείσης,) and betraying a
thirst for the vain honor that comes from
man.”
390 THE WESTERN ‘CHURCH SUSTAINS ATHANASIUS.
who refused to acknowledge him were treated as rebels against the
imperial authority. The greatest part of the community being strongly
attached to Athanasius, whom they regarded as their spiritual father,
while the civil and military authorities, who made no distinction be-
tween this business and any other which they are called upon to perform
in the name of the emperor, proceeded to enforce obedience to the
bishop who had been thrust upon the people, various acts of insurrec-
tionary violence would naturally be the result. ‘The places which had
been consecrated to the service of the God of peace were profaned by
the rudest passions. Amid these scenes of disorder, the persecuted
Athanasius had still time to escape. He repaired, at first, to a place
of concealment in the neighborhood of Alexandria. From this spot, he
issued a circular letter to all the bishops, in which he described in
strong colors the illegality and injustice of all the proceedings against
him. Next, in compliance with an invitation of the bishop Julius, he
repaired to Rome. There, by a synod convened near the close of the
year 342, he was recognized as a regular bishop, having resided for the
space of a year and a half in Rome; and no delegates from the part
of the Orientals, who did not acknowledge the tribunal erected by the
Roman bishop, having appeared to prove the charges laid against him.
The Roman bishop announced to them this decision in a letter, which
was written with the feeling of superiority that springs from the con-
sciousness of right in opposition to illegal, arbitrary will.
All the opponents of Athanasius being looked upon by the Western
church as Arians, they were now solicitous to vindicate themselves
from this reproach; and many of them, without doubt, as plainly
appears indeed from their own avowal, were in no wise devoted to the
strictly Arian doctrines ; though, at the same time, they were not in
favor of the Nicene creed. The hierarchical spirit was expressed in a
very remarkable manner, in the introduction to the first confession
drawn up at. Antioch, where the bishops allege the following as a rea-
son why they could not be called Arians’: ‘‘ How possibly could we,
who are bishops, follow the leading of a presbyter?” + Very justly,
however, could the majority of them say, that from Arius they had
received no new doctrines of faith ; but rather, after a previous exami-
nation of his faith, had admitted him to church fellowship. At assem-
blies convened at Antioch in the years 341 and 345, five creeds were
drawn up, one after the other. It was agreed to condemn the peculiar
Arian formulas, whereby the Son of God was placed in the class of
created beings, and whereby a beginning of existence was ascribed to
him; and to assert, in the strongest terms, a similarity of essence
between the Son and the Father. ‘here still remained but two points
of difference betwixt the doctrines here expressed by the Eastern bishops,
and the doctrines of the Nicene council, understood according to their
logical connection ; — the recognition of the unity of essence, or identity
of essence, in contradistinction to resemblance of essence, — against
which latter conception, Athanasius remarked, with great logical acute-
1 Πῶς ἐπίσκοποι ὄντες ἀκολουϑήσομεν πρεσβυτέρῳ
SYNODS OF SARDICA AND PHILIPPOPOLIS. 391
‘ness, that it was not applicable to the relation to God at all, but applied
only to the relation of temporal and earthly things to each other —and
the doctrine of a generation of the Logos having its ground in the
divine essence, not conditioned on any single act of the divine will, but
rather preceding all individual acts of the divine will.! The Western
bishops did not proceed to discuss and compare these confessions of
faith, but simply stood fast by the council of Nice. Indeed, they were
‘inclined to consider all the opponents of Athanasius in the East as
Arians, and to suspect an Arian element in all their confessions of faith.
The difference of languages, moreover, stood in the way of their coming
‘to any mutual understanding ; the Greek language not being, at the
present time, so generally understood among the people of the West
as it had been in former days.
‘Through the influence of the Roman church, the two emperors, Con-
stantius and Constans, were induced to unite in calling a general
council to meet at the city of Sardica in Illyria, in the year 847, for
the purpose of deciding these disputed. questions, and of healing the
breach which now existed between the Eastern and the Western churches.
Of the Orientals, comparatively but a few attended ; partly, because they
took no special interest in the disputes ; partly, because they had no
desire of joining in common deliberation with clergy of the West ;
and in part because the distance was inconvenient for them. There were
present but seventy-six of the Eastern, and more than three hundred of
the Western bishops. Where party interests were so opposite, and the
excitement of feelings was so great on both sides, it was impossible to
effect a union: the meeting served rather to make the breach still more
‘marked and decided, than it was before. The bishops of the West
having demanded that Athanasius and his friends should be allowed to
attend the assembly as regular bishops, and those of the East having
refused to grant this, a total rupture took place between the two parties.
The Western bishops continued to hold their session at Sardica; the
Orientals drew off to Philippopolis in Thrace. The latter there renewed
their sentence of deposition against Athanasius and his friends, and
extended it also to the Roman bishop Julius; and again composed a
new symbol of faith.?
1 According to the Athanasian system,
the following dilemma necessarily presents
itself: either the Logos is placed on an
equality with the creatures produced by a
particular fiat of the divine will out of
nothing, or he is acknowledged to be one
with the divine essence, his generation pro-
ceeding from the essence of God, and being
“as inseparable from it as his holiness, wis-
dom, ete. All that God wills and decrees,
he wills and decrees in the Logos as such.
This distinction Athanasius considered ne-
cessary, not for the popular exposition of
doctrine, but for the systematic. exhibition
of it. But to the major portion of the
Eastern church-teachers these propositions -
appeared offensive ; for, from misconception
and want of the gift for speculative appre-
hension, they were led to suppose that God
was thereby subjected to constraint or nat-
ural necessity. In the μακροστίχος ἔκϑεσις
at Antioch, those therefore were expressly
condemned who taught: Ὅτι οὐ Bovajoes
οὔδε ϑελῆσει ἐγέννησε τὸν υἱὸν ὁ πατῆβ.
2 According to the report of Socrates,
they expressed therein the doctrine of the
ἀνόμοιος κατ᾽ οὐσίαν, therefore the proper
Arianism. In this case, we must suppose,
that not the Semi-Arians, as in the ecclesi-
astical assemblies at Antioch, but the proper
Arians, here had the preponderance; and
that it was not the endeavor here, as it had
been there, to lessen the doctrinal differen-
ces between the churches of the East and
vof the’ West, but-rather toexpress them in
‘the most marked manner.
The fact, how-
392 CONSTANTIUS UNDECIDED.
The council of Sardica, on the other hand, confirmed the decisions
which had been already made by the Roman synod. <A few among
the assembled bishops had, moreover, proposed a new confession of faith
in opposition to Arianism,! extending not solely to the doctrine of
Christ’s divinity, but also to the doctrine of his becoming man, and to
the relation of the divine and human natures in Christ to each other.
But, by the wisdom of such men as Athanasius, who did not wish to ᾿
furnish occasion for new controversies, but only to hold fast the essen-
tial thing in the doctrine of Christ’s divinity, just as it had been ex-
pressed in the Nicene creed, it was so managed that this confession was
rejected, and it was declared, that the custom of the Arians to multiply
and alter confessions of faith should not be followed.? The only conse-
quence, for the present, which resulted from this issue of the council of
Sardica, was, that the bond of fellowship between the two churches was
completely severed. But subsequently, the council sent delegates for
the purpose of recommending to the emperor Constantius the cause of
the exiled bishops of the East. Meanwhile, the Western emperor Con-
stans endeavored to conciliate his brother to the party of Athanasius.
The Oriental court-party ruined their own cause by exposing the mean
intrigues of some of their leaders, of whom Constantius himself began to
be ashamed; and the ferments among the ever-turbulent people of
Alexandria, who were longing after their beloved Athanasius, and who
had become still more irritated by the atrocious acts of Gregory,—these
ferments, which finally, in 349, led to the assassination of Gregory,
doubtless aroused the political anxieties of the emperor. All these
things codperated to prepare the way for a change in the Kastern
church.?
ever, appears otherwise according to the
report of Sozomen, (3, 11,) who, notwith-
standing it was his usual practice to follow
Socrates, yet in the present case appeals to
the synodal letter appended to the confes-
sion of faith. By his account this latter
seems to have borne a considerable resem-
blance to the Antiochian symbol, and to
have sprung out of the same doctrinal in-
terests: for the Homoousion is not men-
tioned; the anathema is pronounced on
those who supposed three gods, or identified
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and also on
those who taught that there had been a
time when the Son of God did not yet ex-
ist. Here then, also, we find nothing, it is
truey which the proper Arians might not
haye subscribed; and perhaps it may have
been, that the proper Arian party had in
the present case possessed greater influence
than they did in the drawing up of the
several Antiochian creeds.
1 This may be found in Theodoret. I. 8.
2 Athanasii tomus ad Antiochen. ὁ 5.
Ἵνα μὴ πρόφασις δόϑῃ τοῖς ἐϑέλουσι πόλλα-
κις ypagew καὶ ὁρίζειν περὶ πίστεως.
8 Socrates, Sozomen, and Philostorgius,
represent the matter as if the emperor
Constans had procured the recall of Atha-
Constantius wrote to Athanasius, who perhaps could not be
nasius, by threatening to bring about his
restoration to Alexandria by force of arms.
Unquestionably this account is confirmed
by certain indications belonging to the time
of the council of Sardica, which presuppose
such a connection of events. Lucifer of
Calaris (Cagliari) says, in his 1. I. pro Atha-
sio, c. 35, that, if Athanasius were really a
herétic, it would be no sufficient excuse for
Constantius, that he had been moved ‘o re-
call him through the fear of being involved
in a war with his brother Constans. Again,
Athanasius was, at an early period, accused
by his enemies of attempting to create en-
mity between the emperor Constans and
his brother Constantius. Apolog. ad Con-
stant. ὁ 3. Theodoret, it is true, mentions
also the threats of Constans against his
brother, but attributes the change of feel-
ings in that emperor towards the Athanae
sian party, to the fact that Constantius dis-
covered the base intrigues of the worthless
Arian bishop, Stephanus of Antioch, against
Euphrates, bishop of Cologne. Athana-
sius, in his hist. Arianor. ad monachos,
§ 20, 21, simply remarks, that Constans had
given to the two. bishops who had been
sent from the council of Sardica to Con-
Stantius; a letter of recommendation; but
RETURN OF ATHANASIUS IN 849, 393
so easily induced to place confidence in the emperor’s promises, three
letters, in which he invited him to return back to his bishopric ; and, in
349, Athanasius actually returned, and was received by his flock with
great demonstrations of joy. But in the same yearin which Athanasius
eame back to Alexandria, a political change occurred which was un-
favorable to him. He lost his patron, the emperor Constans, who was
assassinated by the usurper Magnentius. Now, inasmuch as it was only
a combination of circumstances that had codperated to produce a mo-
mentary change, without much foundation for it, in the disposition of
Constantius towards Athanasius ; —as the flatterers of the Arian court-
party, favored by the eunuchs and chamberlains of the palace, ever
found it more easy to gain the emperor’s ear, than Athanasius, whose
obstinacy made him an object of suspicion ; 1— it followed, as a matter
of course, that the attacks upon him were soon renewed. Ecclesiastical
and political charges were laid against him at once. It was asserted,
that, for the purpose of deposing bishops who had been accused of
some Anti-Nicene doctrine, he had stretched his ecclesiastical power
beyond all lawful bounds ;—that he had held divine service on
the Easter festival ina large church at Alexandria,? before its con-
secration had been finished by the emperor’s command ; and espe-
cially that he had intermeddled with political affairs in which he had no
concern, and endeavored to involve the emperor in a quarrel with his
brother Constans.?
he looks upon it as a consequence of that
discovery made at Antioch, that Constan-
tius was brought to his senses. Hence he,
in the first place, forbade the persecutions
going-on against the Athanasians at Alex-
andria; and then, ten. months later, after
the assassination of Gregory at Alexandria,
recalled Athanasius to that city. Still,
however. the silence of Athanasius would
prove nothing against the truth οὔ. the
above-mentioned account; for he would
naturally be unwilling to acknowledge a
fact which might have served as a confirm-
ation of the suspicion set: afloat against
himself, that he fomented enmity between
the two brothers. It is true, Constantius
himself seems to testify, in his first letter
to Athanasius, that he had resolved on re-
calling him at his own motion; and he
says, indeed, that it was his intention: to
write to Constans, with a view to obtain his
consent to the proposed recall. But it is
plain of itself, that this publie declaration
of a supremé magistrate meant but little ;
and since. at all events, even according to the
report of Athanasius, it is not to be denied,
that Constans had backed the demand of
the council. for the reeall of Athanasius,
with his letter of recommendation, the
application of Constantius to his brother
for the recall of Athanasius, could be nothing
more than a mere formal proceeding. Be-
sides, Constantius, although compelled to
take this step, would naturally be unwilling
Various precautionary steps, however, were taken
to have it appear that he acted by compul-
sion. Constantius himself declared, in a
document addressed to the Alexandrians,
after the assassination of Constans, that he
had recalled Athanasius to Alexandria out
of respect. to his deceased brother. Hist.
arian. ad monachos, ὁ 50. But it is not
probable that Constans was actually on the
point of engaging in a war for this purpose,
or that Constantius should have felt so-
much apprehension from a mere threat of
his unwarlike brother; unless we are will.
ing to suppose, that the former had to fear
the landing-of troops by his brother in
Alexandria, on account of the exasperated
state of feeling which then existed among
the people. But it is easy to see, also, that
the enemies of Athanasius would take pains
to spread the rumor that he had persuaded
Constans to threaten war against his broth-
er; and that others would repeat it after them,
for the purpose of giving a more brilliant
coloring to the zeal.of Constans for pure
doctrine. The most probable supposition
of all is, that different causes were here
combined together.
1 Ammianus Marcellinus says, hist. ]. 15,
ec. 7. Constantio semper infestus.
2 See above.
3 Even Amm. Marcellinus was aware,
that political charges chiefly were brought
against Athanasius. Athanasium ultra pro-
fessionem altius se offerentem sciscitarique
conatum externa.
894 MARCELLUS OF ANCYRA, AND PHOTINUS.
before they ventured to attack directly this important man himself.
The first attack was directed against two church-teachers, Marcellus,
bishop of Ancyra in Galatia, and Photinus, bishop of Sirmium in Lower
Pannonia, of whom the former had, from the beginning, been intimately
connected with the Athanasian party. It was easy to fix suspicion on
the latter, on account of his intimacy with the first, and thus accuse
them both as false teachers.
Marcellus, bishop of Ancyra in Galatia, had from the first been one
of the most zealous defenders of the Nicene Homoousion. Being a
decided opponent to the theology of Origen’s school, he would of course
oppose also that system of the Triad derived particularly from the
Origenistic scheme of faith, which prevailed in the Eastern church. All
subordination, which was opposed to the Homoousion, appeared to him
to be Arianism; and he traced the whole of this to the confusion of
Platonic, Hermetic, and Gnostic ideas with Christianity. He declared
Origen to be the author of this confusion. But Marcellus, by pushing
to the extreme his opposition to Arianism, in a work against the rhetort-
cian Asterius, became suspected himself, as usually happens where oppo-
sition is carried to excess, of the contrary error, and of denying, as a
Monarchian — which he came very near doing —the personal distinc-
tions in the Triad. While the Arians distinguished the Logos dwelling
in God from the Logos so called in an improper sense, he maintained,
on the other hand, that this very name Logos was the only one which
belonged to Christ according to his divine essence. This Logos was to
be conceived, either as remaining quiescent and hidden within the
divine essence, as the thinking reason of God, or as that reason pro-
ceeding forth into manifestation by means of outward acts,’ as in the
creation generally, so in the different revelations ; particularly and pre-
eminently in the highest of all revelations by the Redeemer, when the
Logos, by virtue of a certain évepyeia δραστικῆ, assumed a human body as
a ministerial organ in accomplishing the redemption of mankind. While
the Arians asserted, that the titles applied to the Logos,— such as the
πρωτότοκος τῆς κτισέως, the Son of God, the image of God,— signified a
relation of dependence and a beginning of existence ; Marcellus ad-
mitted they were right in this last particular, but denied the conse-
quence which they believed themselves warranted to draw from this
premise in reference to the essence of the Logos himself. All these
predicates he would refer, not to the Logos per se,— respecting whom,
considered alone, the evangelist John predicates only the being in and
with God, — but to the particular active efficiency by which the Logos
proceeded forth from God, communicated himself outwardly, and in a
special manner to his radiation in human nature.? Christ had called him-
self distinctively the Son of man, in order to show thereby that he trans-
ferred to himself the name Son of God only in reference to the men who,
through his irradiation in human nature, were to be made sons of God.
1 The ἠσυχάζειν and the ἐνέργειν dpactixg to the dpacrixy ἐνεργείᾳ προέρχεσϑαι. He
ἐνεργείᾳ, resembling the earlier distinction was the first who referred the passage in
between a λόγος ἐνδιάϑετος and προφορικός. Coloss. 1: 15, to Jesus considered as man.
2 The γέννησις τοῦ λόγου has referenceonly ὃ “Iva διὰ τῆς τοιαύτης ὁμολογίας ϑέσει τὸν
CHURCH ASSEMBLIES AT ARLES AND MILAN. 395
Marcellus at first had stood in high authority with the adherents of
the Nicene council, at which he had zealously contended in behalf of
the Homoousion. The Arians and Semi-Arians, on the other hand,
eagerly took advantage of the weak spots which his exhibition of the
Triad exposed to them, for the purpose of accusing him of Sabellianism.
At an assembly held by this party at Constantinople in 8386, the sen-
tence of deposition was pronounced against him. The business of re-
futing him was entrusted to Eusebius of Czesarea, who, as an Origenist,
would be a decided opponent of Marcellus. Hence arose the two works
of Eusebius against him,! which, containing important fragments from
the writings of Marcellus, have become the principal sources of our
information respecting his doctrines. He found, however, as did also
his friends, an affectionate reception in the Western church: the Roman
bishop Julius was satisfied with the confession of faith which he presented
to him. He probably, as Athanasius, was, in consequence of the decis-
ions of the council of Sardica, restored to his bishopric.
It was assuredly altogether contrary to his knowledge or his will, that
Marcellus had approached to the Sabellian or Samosatenian theory, in
pushing to the utmost length his favorite doctrine of the Homoousion ;
but his disciple Photinus, (@wrewéc,) who had received from him the
first impulse in his own theological career, did not shrink from plainly ex-
pressing the Samosatenian or Sabellian doctrine of the Trinity. Thus,
from this quarter, an unfavorable light was reflected on the source whence
his doctrines had sprung, the system of Marcellus himself,— a circum-
stance of which his opponents were not slow to avail themselves.
The renewed attack upon these two men at the synod of Sirmium in
351, where both were deposed from their places, was the first thing to
seal the union of the Anti-Athanasian party,? and to show their power.
In the next place, as there was reason to fear the union of the
Western church with Athanasius, advantage was taken of the residence
of Constantius in the West, occasioned by the war with Magnentius, to
prevail upon the Occidentals, by deceitful representations, and by exciting
their fears of the despotic power of Constantius, to whom the Western
empire was now subjected, to join with the East in the condemnation
of Athanasius. The court-party pretended that the present question
did not relate at all to any interest of doctrine, but only to the person
of Athanasius. By this statement of the case, many bishops who had
not reflected much upon the matter, might suffer themselves to be per
suaded that they could yield what was required without compromising
their orthodoxy ; that they needed not to sacrifice the quiet of their
church to an individual man, who perhaps might in many respects be
guilty, whom, at any rate, they could not protect by their single and
feeble voices. ‘To the emperor the matter might be so represented,
that the bishops who refused to acquiesce in the condemnation, would
ἄνϑρωπον, διὰ τῆς πρὸς αὔτον κοινωνίας viov 2 Here was drawn up the first Sirmian
ϑεοῦ γένεσϑαι παρασκευάσῃ. FEtiseb. de ec- creed, as it was called, — analogous to the
clesiastica Theol. 1. I. c. 20, p.87,ed. Colon. fourth Antiochian.
1 Ὁ, Marcellum and de ecclesiastica the-
olog.
996 HILARY OF POICTIERS.
appear to have acted, in an affair having no connection whatever with
the system of faith, in disobedience to the imnperial commands ; to have
shown a disposition, in spite of the emperor, to defend his declared
enemy ; hence, to be deserving of punishment as refractory and dis-
obedient subjects. Thus was it contrived, at the church assemblies held
in Arles and in Milan, to attain, by force or by fraud, a great number of
signatures. Some did not, in truth, really know what was required of
them ; the others were bribed by princely favor; and others were un-
manned by their fears, and excused themselves to their consciences by
the plea of ignorance.
At such a time, when all that is most sacred was given up and aban-
doned to the arbitrary will of despotism, it is the more gratifying to
observe a few, who, raised by the power of faith above all that human
power could offer or threaten, constantly opposed themselves to that
arbitrary will; who, doubtless, with clear and calm discernment, saw
through the arts of the court-party, which assuredly were aimed, not
barely against the person but also against the doctrines of Athanasius ;
and were prepared to devote and to sacrifice everything they had, in
the defence of truth, of innocence, and of the freedom of a church
threatened with the most humiliating slavery. It was not the state, it
was only the church, which, in these times of despotism and servility,
had such men to show — men inspired with the genuine spirit of freedom,
and who never consented to do homage to mere power.
Among these men may be named particularly, Eusebius, bishop of
Vercelli, distinguished for the zeal with which he administered his pas-
toral office; also Lucifer of Cagliari, and Hilary of Poictiers. The
latter, who was distinguished among the doctrinal writers of the Western
church for a profoundness of intellect and a freedom of spirit peculiarly
his own, had for many years lived quietly and undisturbed in the ad-
ministration of his episcopal office, to which he had come about the year
350, without concerning himself about the doctrinal controversies of
the East, until the arrival of the emperor in the West, in 355, introduced
disquiet also into the Gallic church. Now, for the first time, he heard
of the Nicene creed, and found in it the doctrine of the unity of essence
in the Father and Son, which he had before this ascertained to be the
true doctrine from the study of the New Testament, and had received
into his Christian experience, without being aware that the faith which
he bore in his heart had been laid down in the form of a creed! He
now held it tobe his duty to sacrifice all else to the confession of the
truth.» “I might,” says he, “have enjoyed all earthly advantages to
overflowing, might have boasted of familiar intercourse with the empe-
ror, and like others, abusing the episcopal name, have exercised a
dominion in the church intolerable to the community and to individuals,
had I only been disposed to falsify the gospel truth, to shield my guilty
conscience under the pretext of ignorance, and to excuse a bribed judg-
1 He says of himself, lib. de Synodis, quam nisi exulaturus audivi; sed mihi ho.
§ 19: Regeneratus pridem, et in episcopatu mousii et homeeusii intelligentiam evangelia
aliquantisper manens, fidem Nicenam num- οὖ apostoli intimaverunt.
-LUCIFER OF CAGLIARI. 397
ment with the plea that it was forced by the judgment of another.”?
He presented a memorial to the emperor,” in which, with the frankness
becoming a Christian and a bishop, yet without overstepping the limits
of a just respect, he told him many truths worthy of grave reflection,
such doubtless as in any other way could not have easily come to his
ears. He assured him, that sedition existed nowhere, as the court-
party pretended, in order to excite his alarm ;? the Arians were the
only ones who disturbed the public peace ; there was no other means
of healing the evils of the distracted church, but by putting an end to
constraint in spiritual things, and leaving each one at liberty to live
entirely according to the convictions of his own conscience. It was his
earnest prayer, he said, that the emperor would graciously be pleased
to allow the churches to attend on the. preaching of those whom they
preferred, whom they themselves had chosen ; to receive from such the
sacraments, to pray with such for the emperor’s welfare and salvation.”
But, far different from Hilary, Lucifer of Cagliari, a man of stormy
vehemence and. fanatical. zeal, did not understand how to unite to
Christian frankness and love of truth, that respect for the existing order
of the state, and that fulfilment of the duties of the citizen, which
Christianity prescribes, and the genuine spirit of Christianity superin-
duces. True, he spoke in. a beautiful and high-minded strain against
the unreasonable expectations of the emperor, that the bishops should,
at his command, condenfa unheard an absent, and, in their opinion,
an innocent man ;. and nobly he calls on the emperor to acknowledge
Athanasius as his Christian brother, and. as such to forgive him, even
though hessupposed him guilty of personal offences against himself. Ὁ
On this occasion, too, he said many fine things about the universal
Christian brotherhood, which should embrace all without distinction of
earthly rank. ‘‘ Are you ashamed,” says he to the emperor, ‘ to call
Athanasius your brother? If you profess to belong to Christ, you are
bound to call all Christians your brethren, not only Athanasius, but
even those whom you see begging an alms of you; for we all, all ©
I mean who belong to the church of the Lord, are one, since with the
Lord there is no respect of persons.” * But with all this, it must be
allowed, his intemperate passion blinded him to his obligations of respect
to the emperor. He called him an Antichrist, a servant of Satan, and
addressed him in atone which might well be regarded as exciting to sedi-
tion, and as tending to confirm the accusations of the Arian court-party.
Besides this, Lucifer contended for the independence and freedom of
the church, not in the spirit of the gospel, which keeps spiritual and
worldly things wholly separate from each other, but from another,
unevangelical point of view ; for, mixing together spiritual and secular
things in another sense, confounding the theocratic forms of the Old
and the New Testaments, he required that the secular power should be
1 Opus historicum fragment. I. ὁ 3. fratres dicere, et quidem non solum Athana-
2 Lib. I. ad Constantium. sium, sed et eos quos videris stipem_peten-
8 Nulla suspicio est seditionis. tes. Omnes etenim in ecclesia Domini
4 Pro Athanasio, 1. 11. c. 29. Si Christia- constituti unum sumus apud quem non sit
num te profiteris, debes omnes Christianos acceptatio personarum.
VOL. Il.
398 LIBERIUS AND HOSIUS. ATHANASIUS DRIVEN OUT.
outwardly subordinated to the spiritual, that the church should possess
the outward sovereignty, and consequently was in favor of setting up a
priestly despotism in opposition to that of the emperor.1_ Finally, the
emperor once more used his power to destroy two bishops who stood
in high authority,— the one on account of the seat of his episcopacy,
the other on account of his venerable age, being more than a hundred
years old,— both of whom he had more cause for sparing than others,
the bishops Liberius of Rome, and Hosius of Cordova. Liberius had
orally declared, in opposition to the emperor’s delegates, to his dogmatiz-
ing chamberlains, and to the emperor himself, that nothing should move
him to condemn an innocent man, and subject the affairs of the church
to the judicial decisions of the emperor. » So also Hosius, in a
spirited memorial to the emperor, wherein he represented to him that
he ruled over his equals, and had one and the same judge with them in
heaven. Both, we must admit, acted on the narrow and unevangelical
principle, that as the emperor ruled independently in the secular
province, so the bishops ought to rule independently in the spiritual.
Liberius was banished to Berzea in Thrace, Hosius to Sirmium. ‘Thus
all who refused to obey were banished to different places, for the most
part in the East ; and many of them were very harshly treated.
When the victory was supposed to be already secured over the
Western church, the next step was to attack Athanasius himself, the
preéminent object of hatred to the episcopal dourt-party and to Constan-
tius. But Constantius, purposely, without doubt, sought to lull Atha
nasius into security, partly that he might have him more certainly in his
power, and partly in order to guard against disturbances among the people
of Alexandria. When Athanasius first heard of the plots of his opponents,
the emperor in a brief letter promised him perfect safety, and bade
him not be alarmed, and not to allow himself to-be disturbed in the quiet
administration of his office. When, therefore, the summons requiring
him to leave the church was first sent to him by men who professed to
have full powers from the emperor, he declared, that, as he had been
directed by an imperial writ to remain at Alexandria, he held himself
neither bound nor authorized to abandon the church entrusted to him
by the Lord, except by a written order coming from the emperor him-
self, or at least in his name. He quietly proceeded, therefore, to dis-
charge his episcopal duties in the same manner as before. But, while
engaged in the church during the night of the ninth of February, A.D.
356, amidst a portion of his flock, who were preparing by prayer and
song for the public worship, which, according to the Alexandrian usage,
- was to be celebrated on Friday morning, the Dux Syrianus burst sud-
1 When, for example, he says to the em-
peror, (pro Athanasio, |. I. ο. VII.:) “So
far was he from having any right to rule
over the bishops, that he was rather, accord-
ing to the laws of God, guilty of a crime
worthy of death, if in the spirit of pride he
refused to obey their decisions.” Ut si sub-
vertere eorum decreta tentaveris, si fueris in
superbia comprehensus, morte mori jussus
sis. Quomodo dicere poteris, judicare te
posse de episcopis, quibus nisi obedieris,
jam quantum apud Deum, mortis poena
fueris mulctatus. Hence, too, in his writ-
ings, he quotes from the Old Testament,
whence he derived his ideas respecting
the church theocracy, more often than he
did from the New. We perceive already
in Lucifer a.spirit of altogether the same
cast with that of Hildebrand.
DIVISIONS AMONG HIS ENEMIES. ἘΓΝΟΜΙΓΞ. 399
᾿ς denly into the church, with a troop of armed men, regardless of all
reverence for sacred things. Athanasius, amidst the din and tumult
of the brutal soldiery, perfectly retained his presence of mind: he
endeavored first to preserve peace among the assembled members of
his church, and to provide for their safety, before he thought of his
own. He remained quietly on his episcopal throne, and bade the dea-
con proceed in the recitation of the 136th Psalm, where the words
“‘ For His mercy endureth for ever,” were continually sung by the choir
of the church. Meanwhile, however, the soldiérs pressed forward con-
tinually nearer to the sanctuary. Monks, clergy, and laity, therefore,
bade Athanasius save himself. But not until the greatest part of his
flock had departed, did he slip out with those that remained, and escape
the hands of the soldiers who were sent to arrest him.! Once more,
by an armed force, the Alexandrian church were compelled to submit,
and receive as their bishop an altogether unclerical, rude, and passionate
man, Georgius of Cappadocia. Every sort of atrocity was committed
under the name of religion; while Athanasius, threatened with death,
and pursued as far as Auxuma in Ethiopia, found refuge among the
Egyptian monks.
Thus, then, the Arian party had obtained the victory throughout
the whole Roman empire ; but this victory was destined to work mis-
chief on themselves. ‘The party was, in fact, composed originally of
two constituent portions ; those whom we have designated already by
the name Semi-Arians, who constituted the majority of the Oriental
church, and the Arians properly so called, who formed by far the
smaller number. Both parties had been, till now, united by their
common opposition to Athanasius and to the council of Nice, and the
peculiar differences between themselves had therefore no opportunity
for expression. More especially had they whose views were completely
Arian a strong interest in attaching themselves to the dominant party
of the Oriental church. But as the external opposition which had held
both parties together was removed, the opposition within their own
body would now begin more distinctly to manifest itself. In addition
to this, two men appeared on the stage, who gave to,strict Arianism, in
contradistinction as well to the Homoiousian as to the Homoousian
scheme, a more precise and logically consistent expression than had
hitherto been done. These were Aétius and his disciple Eunomius.?
Particularly deserving of notice is the latter, as well on account of his
steadfast zeal in defence of his own convictions, and the purely dog-
matic interest, untroubled by any secular motives, by which he was emi-
nently distinguished from the Arian court-party, as on account of the
complete individuality of his doctrinal bent of mind, which was altogether
original and of one piece.
As it respects the doctrine of Eunomius concerning the Son of God,
he coincided entirely on this point with Arius, and here brought forward
nothing that was new ; but the peculiarity in his case was the decided
1 See Athanas. apolog. de fuga sua, ὁ 24. means of information; for the accounts of
Hist. Arian. ad monachos, § 81. Gregory of Nyssa spring from a too hostile
2 Concerning the early education which and party interest to be of any use.
shaped the life of Eunomius, we have small
400 EUNOMIUS. ὁ
character of his whole intellectual’ bent, by which he was led to take
ground .against the reigning religious and doctrinal tendencies of his
time, on many sides even where Arius had fallen in with them. A:
doctrinal tendency which narrowly confined itself within the province
of the understanding; which set itself to oppose the mystical and con-
templative element, the element of feeling in theology, and ‘hence also
the predominant influence of the Platonic philosophy on theology ; 8΄
tendency to conceive everything in a manner altogether too outward
and mechanical, — this tendency, which we remarked already in Arius,
appeared still more decidedly pronounced in the character of Eunomius.
Arius agreed with his opponents in acknowledging the incomprehen-
sibleness of the divine essence and of divine things; but Eunomius
endeavored not only to describe the manner in which the Son of God
came into existence, and*his~relation to the Father, as matters quite
comprehensible, but he asserted also the comprehensibleness of the
divine essence generally : he: combated the reigning principle, especially:
of those doctrinal writers whose views were shaped by the Platonic
philosophy, that there was no possible form of knowing which compre-
hended the essence of divine things, but only a symbolical knowledge
of them for the human understanding. With the presumption which
most often accompanies narrowness cf ‘mind, he said of those who de-
fended the incomprehensibleness of divine things: ‘If some men’s
minds are so obtuse that it is beyond their power to comprehend any-
thing, either of that which lies before their feet or of that which is above
their heads, yet it would not follow from this, that the knowledge of
true being is unattainable by all the rest of mankind.” ? In perfect
consistency with his own views, that the Son of God was but the first
of created beings; that: there was no manifestation or appearance of:
God in Christ, but that Christ was only the most perfect of creatures,
destined: to conduct other creatures’to the original source ofall exist
ence, as a being without himself; in entire consistency with these views:
and principles, he taught therefore that the minds of believers ought
not to stop with the generation of the Son of God; but, although they
should follow him at first as the guide to the way, they ought to soar
above him, as above all created beings, to: that Bemg who is the original
source of eternal life, as well’as the author of all things, as their final
aim. “The minds of those that believe on the Lord,’’ says he, ‘‘ should.
by their very nature, rising as they do above all sensible and spiritual
beings, not stop even with the generation of the Son of God. They
soar above this, in striving; out of an earnest desire for eternal life, to
‘attain to the Highest.’’ ὃ yet
1 Arius was himself an ascetic, as we
have observed before; Eunomius was an
opponent of the ascetic tendency, as also
of the worship of martyrs and relics.- See
Hieronym. adv. Vigilantium. There ἰ8
floating in my memory a passage, where he
taunts Basil of Caesarea on his haggard
figure, emaciated by ascetic practices ; but I
cannot at this moment recall it.
2 Gregor. Nyssen. orat. 10, adv. Eunom.
near the beginning: Otde γὰρ. εἰ τινὸς ὁ
νοῦς διὰ κακονοίαν ἐσκοτὴημένος μηδενὸς unre
- τῶν πρόσω, μῆτε τῶν ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς ἐφίκνοιτο,
καὶ διὰ τούτο μῆτε τοῖς ἄλλοις. ἀνϑρώποις
ἐφίκτην εἶναι τὴν τῶν ὄντων εὕρεσιν. I set
down the passage here with an emendation
of the text, the correctness of which will be
obvious to every one.
8'O γὰρ νοῦς τῶν εἰς τὸν κύριον. πεπιστευ-
κότων, πάσαν αἰσϑητὴν καὶ νοητὴν οὐσίαν
HIS CONTROVERSY WITH GREGORY OF NYSSA. 401
From the position, thus assumed, of a supranaturalizing dogmatism
of the understanding, Eunomius was led to misconceive, in a remarka-
ble manner, the nature of religion generally, and of Christianity in
particular ---- placing it in an dlwmination of the understanding, in a
theoretical knowledge of God and divine things. Thus, in opposition to
those who defended the doctrine of the incomprehensibleness of God,
he said: ‘In vain did our Lord call himself the door, if no one enters
through this door to the knowledge and contemplation of the Father :
in vain did he call himself the way, if he has not made it easy for those
who would do so, to come to the Father. How could he be the light,
if he did not enlighten men?’’! But the gospel speaks of the coming
to God, of the enlightening of the soul, in quite another sense from that
in which Eunomius here conceives it. A fellowship of life with God,
and an enlightening of the understanding which comes from this, — not
a certain abstract and formal knowledge of divine things, as Eunomius
supposes, is the true subject of discourse there. To such an extreme,
in fact, did he go in the heat of his polemical zeal, without distinguish-
ing at all the different forms of knowing, as to charge those who denied
the possibility of knowing God and the generation of the Son of God in
the sense in which he conceived it, with denying generally the objective
truth of every possible knowledge of God. He accused them of preach-
ing an unknown God ;—and, since without the knowledge of God
there could be no Christianity, he held that, accordingly, they were not
even to be called Christians.? The predominant tendency in the church,
which, beyond question, may have proved unfavorable to the purity of
the Christian doctrines, — the tendency which assigned to the liturgical:
element a so much higher place than to the didactic and the doctrinal ;
which exalted the sacraments above the word, — Eunomius combated ;
not, however, on purely evangelical, but on other, partial principles,
placing an over-valuation of the logical development of the doctrinal
conception, in opposition to the exclusiveness of the tendency above
mentioned. The essence of Christianity, in his opinion, did not:
depend on certain sacred names or customs, but on the accuracy of
doctrines.®
Gregory of Nyssa maintained, on the contrary, that Christianity
proceeded from, and had its root in, the inner life, inward experience,
the fellowship of life with Christ; but all this, we must add, depend-
ing on the mediation of the visible church, of a visible priesthood,
through participation of the sacraments within the church. ‘ We,”
says he, ‘‘ have learned from the words of our Lord, that whosoever has
not been born of water and of the Spirit, cannot enter into the kingdom
ὑπερκύψας, οὔδε ἐπι τῆς τοῦ yevvncews ἱστάσ-
Gar πέφυκεν. ᾿Ἐπεκείνα δὲ ταύτης ἵεται πώϑῳ
τῆς αἰωνίου ζωῆς ἔντυχειν τῷ πρώτῳ γλιχό-
μενος. In opposition to this, says Gregory
of Nyssa: “If, then, eternal life is not in
the Son, he spoke falsely who said: I am
the eternal life.’ Orat. 10. 674, 675.
1 Gregor. 1. c. 671.
2 Μήδε πρὸς THY τῶν χριστιάνων TpooTyo-
VOL. II. 84"
ρίαν οἰκείως ἔχειν τοὺς ἄγνωστον ἀποφαινο-
μένους τὴν ϑείαν φύσιν, ἄγνωστον δὲ καὶ τὸν
τῆς γεννήσεως τρύπον. Gregor. |. c. ΧΙ.
f. 704.
8 Lc. 704. Οὐτὲ τῇ σεμνότητι τῶν ὀνο-
μάτων, οὔτε ἔϑων καὶ μυστικῶν συμβολῶν
ἰδιοτῆτα κυροῦσϑαι τὸ τῆς εὐσεβείας μυστῆ-
ρίον͵ τῇ δὲ τῶν δογμάτων ἀκριβείᾳ.
402 Π GREGORY OF NYSSA AND EUNOMIUS. ©
of heaven ; and that whosoever eats the Lord’s body, ard drinks his
blood, shall live forever. Even such men as in their inner life are not
Christians, may nicely argue on the doctrines of the Christian faith ; as
in fact we hear of those who are not Christians making the doctrines of
Christianity a subject for logical disputations.” 1. c. 704. Had Eunomius
and Gregory of Nyssa carried out still further this remarkable differ-
ence of views,— which, however, in the vast compass it embraces, was at
that time impracticable, — they would have been led back to the ques-
tion, whether the essence of religion consists in a form of knowing, or
in a certain species of inward life and feeling ;—— which difference in
the mode of conceiving the essence of Christianity, according to the
different peculiarities of men’s individual characters, according as the
heart or the understanding has predominant sway, or at least according
as they have been conducted to religion more by the one or by the other
of these, is a thing of very frequent occurrence. But when Gregory of
Nyssa says, it is a peculiarity of Paganism to place religion in doctrinal
knowledge, this certamly is altogether incorrect ; for, on the contrary,
the predominant element in Paganism was feeling, —a feeling neither
guided nor accompanied by any clear consciousness, but which con-
founded God with nature, things divine with things natural. It was
not until Christianity had made religion an object of clear consciousness,
that the one-sided tendency could also make its appearance, which
placed religion in the δογμάτων ἀκριβείᾳ (accuracy of doctrines. )
Eunomius, however, was in nowise conscious of the new doctrinal
tendency which would have gone forth from him, in case he had been
able to gain preponderance in the church. It was by no means his in-
tention to set up a new doctrinal system. He supposed he was teaching
no other doctrines than those contained in the old simple creeds of the
Kastern church ; he believed that he was only clearly developing the
included contents of the doctrine concerning the Son of God transmitted
in them. Had it not been for the starting-up of the errors on another
side, he was of opinion that men would have been perfectly satisfied: with
those simple articles which already embraced within them all that was
necessary for right knowledge.1 It is easy to see, too, how, from his
own point of view, he must have so considered it, that his doctrines
were none other than what necessarily resulted from the development
of the ancient doctrines of the church, ‘‘ concerning the faith im one
God, the Almighty Father, from whom proceeded all existence, and
the one only-begotten Son of God, the God Logos, by whom all things
were brought into existence.”” Is God the Almighty the alone author,
. himself without beginning, of all existence ? Accordingly, then, every-
thing, including the Son of God himself, came into existence from him.
A communication from the essence of God cannot be conceived, with-
out transferring to the divine being the representations of sense. A
production, a bringing forth, cannot be conceived without beginning and
end: the generation of the Son of God, which it,is impossible to con-
ceive different from any other production, any other work, must have
1 See Eunomii apologia Basil. opp. ed. Garnier. T. I. £619;
“THE ARIAN BISHOPS, URSACIUS AND VALENS. 403
had its beginning, as it must have been completed, at a definite point
of time.?
The idea of an eternal generation appeared to the understanding of
Eunomius, who could not divest himself of the forms of temporal and
‘sensuous intuition, as a thing altogether absurd, self-contradictory.
This idea of an efficiency flowing out of the essence of God was bor-
rowed, as he supposed, from the pagan philosophy ; and this idea had
led the philosophers also into the false notion of a creation without
beginning. -
Again, it seemed to Eunomius: to follow from the relation above
‘mentioned of the Supreme essence to all things else, that God, who is
‘without beginning, is, by his éssential nature, infinitely exalted above all
other existences, and also above the Son; and that he can be com-
pared with nothing else. But, by this supposition, he imagined nothing
further was determined, as yet, respecting the essence of the Son of
God, except in this relation. The difference of created beings among
one another depended on the divine will, which had fixed for each
being the specific limits of its particular existence ; and God had brought
forth the Logos alone, the first and the most perfect of created beings,
and conferred on him the greatest possible likeness to himself, (but, of
‘course, not a likeness of essence,) divine dignity and creative power,
since it was his will to employ him as his instrument in creating all
other existences. This is the ground of the immeasurable difference
between him and all other creatures... God produced him alone immedt-
~ ately, but all other creatures indirectly through him. In this respect, too,
Eunomius believed he could appeal to the agreement of his doctrine
with that of the old creed respecting the Logos.
The Arianism which was expressed in this manner would of course
bring out in stronger relief the opposition between the Arian and the
SemiArian parties.--
The Antiochian church, over which the Arian Eudoxius presided as
‘bishop, became the gathering place for the adherents of the Arian doc-
trine, so distinctly expressed by Aétius and Eunomius. Against these,
a violent opposition was excited on the part of the Semi-Arian party ;
and several of the bishops who stood at the head of it,—such, for example,
as Basil, of Ancyra in Galatia — possessed great influence with the em-
peror Constantius, to whom it was easy to represent the Eunomian
᾿ doctrines as blasphemous.
At the head of the Arian court-party stood, at that time, two men,
versed’ in all the intrigues of the court, who had already shown how
well they understood the art of changing their principles and convic-
tions according to circumstances,
1L. c. 650. Πάσης γεννήσεως οὐκ ἐπ’
ἀπείρον ἐκτεινομένης͵ ἄλλ᾽ εἰς τι τέλος κατα-
ληγοῦσης ἀνάγκη πάσα καὶ τοὺς παραδεξαμέ-
νους τοῦ υἱοῦ τὴν γεννῆσιν τό τε (not τότε,
as the editions have it) πεπαύσϑαι τοῦτον
γεννώμενον, unde πρὸς τὴν ἀρχὴν ἀπαύστως -
ἔχειν. He conceived the creating act of
God after an altogether anthropopathic,
and particularly according to the
temporal manner. God had instituted the
Sabbath for the purpose of showing that
his creation, as it had an end, must also
have had a beginning: Οὐ yap τῇ πρώτῃ
τῆς γενέσεως ἡμέρᾳ, ἄλλα τῇ ἑβδόμῃ, ἐν ἢ κα-
τεπαύσεν ἀπὸ τῶν ἔγρων͵ ἐδώκε τὴν ὑποωνῆ-
σιν τῆς δημιουργίας: ~~ - :
404 URSACIUS AND VALENS. THEIR SIRMIAN CREED.
prevailing tone of the palace.1_ These were Ursacius, bishop of Singi-
dunum in Meesia, and Valens, bishop of Mursa in Pannonia. These
persons contrived an artifice, by which, for a time, they hoped to con-
ceal the differences between the Eunomian party and the ruling ma-
jority of the Oriental church, and perhaps by degrees to get entirely
rid of the articles of doctrine opposed to that party. It could be plaus-
ibly represented to the emperor, that all the controversies which, for so
long a time, had distracted the church, had been occasioned by the
wretched term οὐσία ; it was only needful to remove this unhappy term
from the vocabulary of the church, and peace would be restored ; and
the term οὐσία, about which there had been so many disputes, did not
even once occur in the sacred scriptures in that metaphysical sense ;
the attempts to define what belonged to the essence of God exceeded,
in fact, the limits of the human faculties of knowledge ;? and it was
possible, indeed, to settle finally, in a manner which all must approve,
everything that was necessary for maintaining the divine dignity of our
Saviour, without keeping alive that unholy strife about the οὐσία, pro-
vided only that due prominence was everywhere given to the resem-
blance between him and the Father. Such reasons, of course, could
easily be represented in a convincing light to the emperor and the fol-
lowers of the court. It was first at an assembly of the court-party,
held at Sirmium in Lower Pannonia, in 357, that a symbol of faith was
drawn up to this purport: ‘ Whereas so many disturbances have
arisen from the distinction of the unity of essence or the likeness of
essence, (concerning the difference of essence, which the Eunomians
maintained, a wise silence was observed,) so from henceforth nothing
shall be taught or preached respecting the essence of the Son of God,
because nothing is to be found on that subject in the holy scriptures,
and because it is one which surpasses the measure of the human facul-
ties.” The venerable Hosius, who had passed his hundredth year
and now lived in exile, was wrought upon to subscribe this confession,
and was even reported to be its author: thus it was hoped to give it
additional weight. Nor was any labor spared to bring over the Roman
1 These two men, disciples of Arius, who
thus far had been concerned in all the in-
trigues against Athanasius, presented, when,
through the influence of the emperor Con-
stans, the Athanasian party began to con-
quer, a writing to the Roman bishop, Julius,
in which they declared all the charges
brought against Athanasius to be false, tes-
tified their repentance, and pronounced the
‘anathema on the Arian doctrines. See
Athanas. apolog. c. Arian. § 58.
2 Τὸ is quite evident, that such explana-
tions could not proceed from those who
really had at heart the principles of the
Eunomian system, or who had not been
long since ready to sacrifice them in part to
policy. But the latter we are not justified
in supposing; for the doctrine concerning
the comprehensible nature of the οὐσία was,
in truth, a thing altogether new, peculiarly
Eunomian, wherein, besides, the Arians,
properly so called, were not entirely agreed.
It may be a question, moreover, whether
this new plan of conciliation was not a con-
tinuation of the older one which had come
from Eusebius of Csarea; whether it did
not perhaps spring from his disciple and
successor, the bishop Acacius of Cesarea.
8 Quod vero quosdam aut multos move-
bat de substantia, que Greece οὐσία dicitur,
id est, ut expressius intelligatur, homoousion
aut quod dicitur homeeusion, nullam omni-
vers.)
OPPOSED BY THE SEMI-ARIANS. 405
bishop Liberius.. His earnest longing for perfect freedom, and wish to
return to his bishopric, finally prevailed on the man who had exhibited
so much firmness at first, to abjure his own convictions. He subscribed a
creed drawn up by the court-party at Sirmium, which perhaps was none
other than that second Sirmian confession.1~ In a letter to Ursacius
and Valens, and another to the Oriental bishops at large, he testified
his acquiescence in the condemnation of Athanasius ; and only begged
most: earnestly, that they would prevail on the emperor to let him
speedily return to Rome. ΄.
But the leaders of the Semi-Arian party saw in that Sirmian creed a
cunningly-contrived. device to effect. the suppression of thei peculiar
doctrines, and to secure the triumph of the Eunomian. The attempt
to unite the contending parties by expunging the disputed articles, and
introducing general formulas, became, as usually happens, but the seed
of new and still: more: violent schisms. Two of the most respectable
bishops of ‘the Semi-Arian: party, Basil of Ancyra and Georgius of
Laodicea in Phrygia, published, in conjunction with other bishops assem-
bled in a synod at Ancyra, A.D. 858, a long and copious document,
of a doctrinal and polemical nature, in which the doctrines of this party
concerning the resemblance of essence, as well -in opposition to the
Nicene as to the Eunomiam articles, were fully unfolded ; at the same
time that the church was warned against the artifices of those who, by
expunging the term οὐσία, were seeking to suppress the doctrine of the
resemblance of essence itself. It was here very clearly shown, that
true resemblance in all other things presupposed resemblance of
essence; and that without this the notion of a Son of God, essentially
different from created existences, could not be maintained.. The em-
peror Constantius heard of these controversies. “It was contrived to
prejudice his mind: against several of the leaders of the Eunomian
party ; so that he who possessed the inclination — no less expensive to
the state, than it was injurious to the church — of convoking synods,?
1 That he subscribed a creed drawn: up >
at Sirmium, Liberius himself says in Hila-
rius. fragm. VI. ex opere historico. ὁ 6; but
the signatures of the bishops to this creed,’
which Hilary himself notices, do not, it
must be admitted, seem to belong to. the
second Sirmian creed. Yet the conclusion
which some who would fain pass a milder
judgment on the conduct: of Liberius, have
drawn from this circumstance, viz. that he
only subscribed the first Sirmian creed, of
the year 351, which ‘proceeded from the
Semi-Arian party; and was extremely mod-
erate, (see above,)—this is in the highest
degree improbable. The then dominant
court-party were in fact not looking after
authorities to support Semi-Arian creeds;
but, on the contrary, their entire efforts were
directed to the procuring of influential sig-
natures in favor of their new conciliatory
creed. Now as Liberius, to judge from his
way of speaking against his‘own conscience
in the affair of Athanasius, and. from the
illiberal spirit which betrays itself in his let-
ters to the Eastern bishops, Ursacius and
Valens, was surely ready, in this state of
feeling, to submit to anything, provided
only he contd be released: from his confine-
ment, and be.able to return to Rome; it is
impossible to see, why the court-party
should not have required of him what it
must have been most: important for them
to secure. Unless we suppose, then, that
Hilary or his scribe committed an error in
the title, but one other supposition remains,
. — which, beyond question, has. much in its
favor, — viz. that the third Sirmian creed is
here meant. The only difficulty is, that it
does not perfectly accord with the testimo-
ny of Athanasius, that Liberius spent two
years in exile; which statement, however,
need not be considered as claiming to be
strictly correct in point of chronology.
2 The moderate Pagan, Ammianus Mar-
_eellinns, says of him, 1. 21, c. 16, that, by
the multitude of synods which he convened
¢
400 URSACIUS AND VALENS. COUNCILS
held it to be necessary once more to convene a general council, at which
the bishops of the East and of the West should assist, for the restora- :
tion of unity to the church. Such a reiinion the leaders of the Arian
court-party had much reason to dread; for as it was the case before,
that the common opposition to the Nicene Homoousion had united to-
gether the Arians and the Semi-Arians, so it might easily happen now,
that the common opposition to strict Arianism would cause the differ- ᾿
ence between the Semi-Arians of the East and the Homoousians of the
West to retire into the back-ground ; and, in that case, the far inferior
strictly Arian party would have to yield to the overwhelming majority
of the Orientals and Occidentals, belonging to the two parties. The
bishops Ursacius and Valens, therefore, employed every art in their
power to prevent the assembling of such a general council from the two
quarters of the world. As various circumstances came to their aid,
they so far actually succeeded as to procure, that two councils should
be assembled instead of one; an Oriental council to meet at Seleucia
in Isauria, and a Western council to meet at Ariminum (Rimini) in
Italy.
Next, Ursacius and Valens entered into negotiations with several
bishops of the Semi-Arian party, for instance, Basil and Georgius, whom
they accidentally met at the emperor’s court in Sirmium, respecting a
creed which was to be laid before the councils soon to be assembled.
This took place in the evening before Pentecost, A.D. 858.1 Just as
in the case of political compromises, something was sacrified, and some-
thing was conceded on both sides, for the sake of union. To the Semi-
Arians it was conceded, that the Son of God was before all time, and
before all conceivable existence generated of God, — which conception
was to be apprehended only.in a spiritual manner.” It was conceded
to them, that the Son was in all respects like to the Father, as the
scriptures taught. Under this ‘‘all,’” the Semi-Arians might under-
stand the οὐσία to be also included; but the Eunomians, looking at
the article from their own point of view, instead of finding in the clause
“ὁ according to the scriptures,” or ‘‘ as the scriptures teach,” a confirm-
ation of that resemblance extending to all respects, might, on the con-
trary, consider themselves warranted so to interpret the clause, as if it
contained a limitation of what went before, to wit, in all respects, so far
as the holy scriptures extended this αἰ, and in their opinion, God the
Father, according to the scripture doctrine, was to be compared, so far
as his essence was concerned, with nothing besides himself. ΤῸ make
out this interpretation, they may also have availed themselves of the
article which the Semi-Arians, making concessions on the other side,
allowed to pass,—that the term οὐσία, for as much as it only served,
from not being understood by the laity, to create disturbance, and for
for the purpose of imposing on all his own ad ἘΆΝ perduciian. Frag. III. ex opere
religious opinions, (the bishops travelling
at the public expense, and in the public ve-
hicles,) he interrupted the business of the
public conveyances, rei vehicularise succi-
disse nervos; and, in accordance with this, _
Hilary says: Cursus ipse publicus attritus
historico, § 25.
1 Of these transactions Epiphanius speaks,
heres. 73, and moreover gives the date.
2 Yet the Eunomians also might admit
this, understood in their own way. (See
above.)
AT SELEUCIA AND ΒΙΜΙΝΙ. 407
as much as the holy scriptures did not contain this word, should for the
future never be employed in explaining the doctrine concerning God.
As this confession of faith was a production of clerical court-policy, so
too it renounced altogether the ecclesiastical form in its conclusion ;
being drawn up in the form of a decree proceeding from the emperor’s
privy council ; and when it was mentioned that this confession had been
drawn up in the presence of the emperor, the attribute which pagan
flattery had given to the head of the Roman empire — that of the
Eternal — was applied to Constantius.!_ The weak spot here exposed
by this court-party, Athanasius well knew how to take advantage of: he
said of the Arians, that, in affixing with so much precision the date to
their confession of faith, a thing that was customary only in political
transactions, they let it be known that this was their faith only for this
particular moment; and they did not hesitate to give to the emperor
Constantius the epithet “‘ Eternal,’”’ which they refused to Christ.
The court-party, whose intention was, in the first place, by means of
such a creed, to hush up all differences, now distributed their friends
and organs in both the councils ; but their artful plots came near being
overthrown by the firmness and harmony of the Homoousians of the
Western, and the Homeoustans of the Eastern church on the other
side. The majority in the two councils which assembled in 359— one at
Ariminum, the other at Seleucia — was far too great to be overreached
at once. In both councils, there was an unwillingness to have any
thing to do with the new articles, though they contained nothing heret-
ical, and bore on their front only the love of peace. Those, especially in
the Western church, who, owing to their ignorance of the relation of
the church pastors to each other, could not penetrate the designs which
the authors of such forms had in view, were still full of mistrust, and
jomed the side of those who understood the real motives. So, by the
majority of the council at Rimini, the Nicene creed, and by the majority
of the council at Seleucia, the fourth Antiochian creed, were maintained
in opposition to all those proposals. But when the court-bishops found’
that with all their arts they were defeated in the councils themselves,
they still endeavored to carry out their designs in another way, by
τ those low artifices in which they were not to be excelled. The two
councils, by the direction of the emperor, were to lay before him their
decisions, each sending ten delegates chosen from the body of assembled
bishops. The bishops at Rimini had earnestly petitioned the emperor
for a speedy decision, in order that they might return to the communi-
ties where their presence was needed. But the delegates of the West
could not obtain an audience from the emperor, who pretended that he
must first dispose of the political business on his hands, so as to have
his mind perfectly free to deliberate on sacred things. Under this
pretence, they were put off from one time to another, and obliged to
pass the winter in Adrianople. The bishops meanwhile must quietly
remain assembled at Rimini, and leave their communities in the lurch ;
yet there were several who left, without waiting to obtain permission of
1 Ἐπὶ παρουσίᾳ τοῦ δεσπότου ἡμῶν τοῦ εὐσεβεστάτου καὶ καλλινίκου βασιδεως.
.
408 URSACIUS AND: VALENS. NEW ARTIFICES.
absence from Constantinople. After the ten bishops had become pretty
well weary of journeying from one place to another, and of waiting for
the emperor’s pleasure, and when they were longing to get back to ©
their country and to their churches, Ursacius and Valens began to urge
them with motives, taking advantage of their impatience at any longer
residence in the Hast, as well as of their ignorance of the relation in
which the church parties of the Hast stood.to each: other. They pre-—
vailed upon them at-Nicz in Thrace, to subscribe their names to a
creed, which, according to the plan so often mentioned, forbade all
propositions respecting the οὐσία, as being unscriptural, and - merely
stated in general that the Son of God was like the Father, as the holy
scriptures taught. . With this creed they repaired to Rimini, and there
also, by artful representations and. threats, succeeded in carrying
through their design with the majority. The happy issue of these pro-
ceedings was now used as an argument in treating with the deputies
of the Oriental council who were staying at Constantinople. It was
represented to them, that the object was at last attained, which had, for
so long a time, been sought in vain, — to banish the Nicene creed and
the Homoousion from the Western church. Such an opportunity ought
not to be suffered to. pass without advantage ; and in the article which
set forth a resemblance between the Father and the Son, as the scrip-
tures taught it, everything was in. fact contained which they could
reasonably require. Besides this, the emperor Constantius, though
busily engaged in making preparations for a great festival,’ yet took
an active part in these transactions... He spent an entire day and most
of the night in the council of bishops, sparing no efforts of his own to
persuade the delegates to yield. By his authority and influence, which
perhaps had more weight than his reasons, it was finally brought about,
that the deputies of the Oriental council also subscribed a creed similar
in all respects to that proposed at Rimini. A council which assembled
at Constantinople in 360 re-confirmed this creed... Moreover, Eudoxius,
the principal mover of the Eunomian party at Antioch, had succeeded
in getting himself made bishop of Constantinople ; the bishop Macedonius,
who belonged to the Semi-Arian party, and who had made himself
unpopular by his violent. measures, having been deposed. Eudoxius,
who now, as bishop of Constantinople, enjoyed the greatest influence,
united his efforts with those of Acacius, bishop of Czesarea in Palestine,
aman whose personal character gave him considerable authority, to
bring it about im the first place, that the creed from which the articles
concerning the οὐσία were expunged, should be everywhere adopted.
The emperor Constantius detested as blasphemers those who openly
taught and defended the Eunomian doctrines; and as refractory, as the
disturbers of good order, and enemies to the peace of the church, those
who advocated the Homoousion and the Homoiousion. Both parties
must inevitably incur his displeasure, if they ventured on a free and
open expression of their opinions, —if they refused to comply with the
humors of the court. The emperor had resolved to put an end to all
πον -1.In celebration of -his.entrance. into the consular office.
EFFECTS OF COMPULSORY UNION. 409
᾿ doctrinal disputes by means of the artificial arrangement above des-
cribed: deposition and exile, or even a worse fate, threatened the bishops
who refused to acquiesce. Eudoxius himself must consent to desert
his favorite Aétius of Antioch, who had become offensive to the emperor
by too open a display of his Arian logic. Eudoxius had procured for
Eunomius the bishopric of Cyzicus ; but he advised him to accommodate
himself to the times. Eunomius, however, neglected to follow this
counsel of a prudent church policy; and, having openly taught his
doctrines, was complained of to the emperor, who manifested the
warmest displeasure. His friend Eudoxius, who told him that he must
ascribe this misfortune to the neglect of his own good advice, warned
him of the persecution which lay in store for him, and he fled. He
now became the leader of the party which went by his name, the other
important members of it being governed more by political than by doc-
trinal motives. If the dominion of that party which procured the
adoption of the creed of Nicz and Rimini could have lasted longer,
still it would have been hardly possible for the two contending parties
to continue holding this undefined and neutral position. The strict Arian
or Eunomian party would doubtless have at length taken advantage of
the expunging of the articles relating to the οὐσία, to make their own
openly expressed doctrines the dominant creed of the church ; as, in
fact, an attempt of this sort had already been made at Antioch, which
was only suppressed through fear of the emperor.!
This artificial union created in many churches the utmost confusion.
Many, who really agreed with each other in their system of faith, were:
in this way separated by misunderstandings; for many, who, out of
weakness or ignorance of the relations of the eontending doctrinal
parties to one another, had subscribed the creed which left out the
articles respecting the οὐσία, were now regarded by the zealots of their
own party as apostates, as betrayers of the true doctrine, as Arians.
They seemed to stand in church fellowship with those who, in their .
system of faith, were not one with them; and by those who should have
borne with them as brethren weak in the faith, brethren erring through
ignorance, they were treated with hostility, as false teachers.
But an arrangement which had been carried through by outward force,
and imposed on the church by arbitrary human will, in defiance of her
own natural course of development, could have no substantial basis, but
must dissolve of itself, as soon as the outward force was removed from
which the whole had proceeded. With the death of the emperor Con-
stantius, every thing took an entirely different direction ; and under the
reign of the pagan emperor his successor, who gave equal liberty to all
the Christian parties, the relations of these parties to each other, after
throwing off what had been imposed upon them, could proceed to shape
themselves after a manner conformed to the actual course of church
development. The party attached to the Homoousion were prepared
to derive the greatest advantage from their former oppressions, and
from the period of freedom which now followed ; for many ad, in fact
1 Sozom. 1. IV. c. 29.
VOL. II. 35
410 SYNOD AT ALEXANDRIA, A.D. 362.
been estranged from it merely by force or by misunderstanding, and these
were now willing to break loose again from their connection with the
Arian party, and unite themselves with those to whom they had always
remained bound by the ties of faith. In the next place, Semi-Arianism
was well suited to form a transition-point to the more consistent system
of the Homoousion ; and the collision into which Semi-Arianism had
fallen with Eunomianism would naturally tend to promote this transi-
tion. But the persecutions which the zealous professors of the Homoou- —
sion had been obliged to undergo, might easily engender a repulsive
fanaticism, which would tend to multiply divisions and misunderstand-
. ngs, as we see in the case of Lucifer of Cagliari. The great Atha-
nasius, however, was not less distinguished for “his prudence and mode-
ration in the time of peace, than” he had been for his firmness and
consistency in the season of conflict ; and through his influence, which
was supported by that of others of like temper, such as Eusebius of
Vercelli, this danger was averted from the church.
Several of the bishops, on their way home from their banishment in
different countries, met together under the presidency of Athanasius at
Alexandria. Here it was resolved to do all that was possible in the
way of meeting those who were desirous of uniting once more with the
orthodox church. ‘Those who, under the preceding government, had,
through weakness, allowed themselves to be hurried into fellowship with
the Arian party, might without any further steps be acknowledged and
received as members of the Catholic church, and be retained in the
same offices which they had hitherto filled in their respective communi-
ties.1 To those only who had been among the leaders of the Arian
party, this privilege was not conceded ; but yet they might be received
as members of the Catholic church, on renouncing their spiritual offices.
This ecclesiastical body expressed its views in a noble spirit of Christian
charity : ‘‘ We wish all who still stand aloof from us, and who seem to
have united with the Arians, would give up their delusion, so that all
in every place might say, ‘One Lord, one faith ;’— for what is so
glorious and lovely as that, in the words of the sweet singer, brethren
should dwell together in unity? Ps.183:15 for so we believe the Lord
also will dwell with us according to his promise, ΟἽ will dwell in them,
and walk with them.’”’ Divisions also, which had arisen from disputes
about words, it was attempted to heal by coming to a mutual under-
standing respecting the conception denoted by the words. In respect
to one schism alone, which had arisen in the Antiochian church, but
where, in like manner, there was no real difference of doctrinal views
“at bottom, this aim was frustrated, through the want of impartiality ;
and so the germ was nourished of a long-continued and — in its conse-
quences — important schism, of which we must now speak in brief.
1Tt was thought that indulgence conld
the more properly be employed in this case,
inasmuch as several of the bishops had
yielded only κα form, in order to retain pos-
session of their churches, and preserve
these from the infection of Arianism, which
would otherwise have been spread through
them by Arian bishops placed over them by
force, as Aaron yielded for the moment to
the Jewish people, in order to keep them
from returning back to Egypt and falling
irrecoverably into idolatry. See Athanas,
epist. ad Rufinianum.
MELETIAN SCHISM AT ANTIOCH. 411
The beginning of this schism is to be traced back to a much earlier
period. About the year 330, the already mentioned Eustathius, bishop
of Antioch, had been deposed from his office by the Anti-Nicene party ;
but a majority of the community remained faithfully attached to him.
They refused to acknowledge as their bishops the Arians who were
thrust upon them, and formed a separate church party under the name
of Eustathians. When, in 860, the Arian bishop Eudoxius resigned
the bishopric of Antioch, to become bishop of the imperial city of the
East-Roman empire, Meletius, then bishop of Sebaste in Armenia, was,
after a long contest, chosen his successor. Meletius was attached to the
Nicene doctrine, or at least inclined that way; but he did not belong to
the zealots who made the essence of Christianity to consist in this or that
formula of belief, and who in their sermons treated of nothing else than
the current doctrinal questions of the day.! It is probable that, with-
out entering into controversies of doctrine, he presented in his discourses
the gospel truths in the way best suited to the wants of his flock. The
Arians, who could not understand the spirit of such a man, interpreted
this moderation as a proof of his agreement with their own doctrines,
or at least supposed they might reckon, that, if he had hitherto appeared
neutral, he would now, out of gratitude for so important a bishopric,
openly preach Arianism in his sermons; but they found themselves
mistaken.
Meletius preached an inaugural discourse in 361,? characterized by
a spirit of Christian moderation entirely free from the fear of man.
His starting point was, that fellowship with Christ* is the foundation of ©
the whole Christian life; that he only who has the Son, can have the
Father also. ‘‘ But we shall continue,” said he, ‘‘in fellowship with the
Son and with the Father, when before God and the elect angels, nay,
also before kings, we confess him, and are not ashamed of our confes-
sion.” This brought him to lay down his own confession of faith con-
cerning the Son in decided opposition to strict Arianism ; yet in 80
moderate expressions, that even Semi-Arians could have nothing to find
fault with, as he did not touch upon the disputed Homoousion. Per-
haps Meletius belonged to the class who, like many of the Orientals,
had gradually gone over from the moderate Semi-Arianism which we
find in a Cyrill of Jerusalem, to the doctrines of the Nicene council.
He purposely took care not to give way too much to the doctrinal ten-
dency of his hearers, not to venture upon too nice distinctions ; and for
this reason, he even rebuked the speculative pride which affected to
know and determine too much concerning these incomprehensible things.
He reminded them of the apostle’s word, that human knowledge was
but in part, and that perfect knowledge was to be expected only in the
life to come.
1 Thus, doubtless, sermons were often
preached, which were entirely barren of
profit to the hearers. An example of bad
taste, carried to a singular extreme, is given
in the case of a discourse preached by an
Arian at Antioch. Hilar. c. Constant. § 13.
The point was, that God, in the proper
sense, could not have a son; for if he hada
son, he must also have had a wife, with
whom he could live and have intercourse;
and so on after the same absurd and irreve-
rent manner, little to the edification of his
flock.
2 Preserved in Epiphan. heres. 73. Gal-
land. T. V.
ὃ The Χριστὸν ἔχειν ἐν ἑαυτῷ.
412 THE MELETIAN SCHISM.
When the Arians saw they had been deceived in their expectations
from Meletius, they deposed and banished him, after he had been in
the active duties of his office scarcely a month. Now the friends of
Eustathius, who in the mean time had died, instead of attaching them-
selves to Meletius, as they ought to have done, since he agreed with
them in doctrine, had contracted a prejudice against him, and suspected .
him because he had: been instituted bishop by the Arian party, and
perhaps also because, as he did not belong to the number of blind
zealots, he appeared to them not sufficiently decided. Hence they did
not acknowledge him as bishop, and remained a separate party under the
presbyter Paulinus, who had already for a long time conducted their
public worship. The document of the Alexandrian council was now
sent separately to the flock of Paulinus. ‘This community was invited,
with all love, to receive those of the other party who were willing to
unite with them, dismissing controversies on unessential matters and
verbal disputes, which hindered union; but no mention was made of
Meletius. All this plainly showed, that only the church of Paulinus
was acknowledged to be in the right, and that there was no inclination
to recognize Meletius. In addition to this, Lucifer of Cagliari was sent
to hush the disputes, a man the least of all fitted to be a mediator of
peace. It was wholly in character with his ignorant zeal, that he
should pronounce Meletius an Arian, and give a head to the opposite
party, by ordaining Paulinus as their bishop. Thus was laid the
foundation of a schism, which was propagated for a long time, and
which, on account of the general sympathy of the other churches, came
to have important consequences: for the Western and the Alexandrian
churches declared in favor of Paulinus; the Oriental church, for the
most part, in favor of Meletius.
The same Lucifer, who gave to the Antiochian schism a duration
which, without his interference, it perhaps never would have had, pro-
ceeded, in this same spirit of ignorant zeal, to lay the beginnings of
another important schism. The moderation which reigned in the de-
cisions of the Alexandrian council could not, of course, be very pleasing
to a man of his character. He was for receiving no one who had been
connected with the Arian party, so long as he retained his office ; and,
as he believed that the catholic church was defiled by the readmission of
unworthy ecclesiastics, he became the founder of a separate party,
the Luciferites, who regarded themselves as constituting the only pure
church.
_ Under the reign of the emperor Jovian, the relation of the parties
to each other continued, in the main, to be the same ; for although this
emperor espoused the Nicene doctrine, yet it was his principle (see
above) never to interfere, by his political power, either in the affairs of
religion generally, or in the internal concerns of the church in particular.
The same principle was followed by his successor, the emperor Valen-
tinian ; but his brother Valens, to whose hands he had entrusted the
government of the East, being a pupil of the bishop Eudoxius, from
whom he had received baptism, was a zealous Arian ; and, as by natural
disposition he was inclined to harsh, cruel, and despotic measures, he
BASIL OF CHSAREA IN CAPPADOCIA. 413
- allowed himself to be used as a tool of the fanaticism and of the am-
bitious designs of the Arian clergy. Then followed a period of most
deplorable desolation in many of the Oriental churches. Worthy
bishops were persecuted and driven away; worthless men, who had
their friends and patrons among the imperial eunuchs and chamberlains,
were imposed on the churches as clergymen and bishops. Still, how-
ever, this persecution turned out to be rather favorable than prejudicial
to the interest of the Nicene party; for the Semi-Arians were driven
more and more, by the persecutions which they had to suffer from the
dominant Arian party, to the party of the Homoousians. It was only
by uniting with the last party, now dominant in the West, that they
could expect to obtain help in their oppressed situation. Aversion to
the strictly Arian party, the wish to be united with the party which
in many quarters offered them the hand, and which could afford them
the most powerful assistance, —all this led many among the Semi-
Arians to measure the difference which separated the two parties by
another standard than that which they had hitherto applied. They
explained to themselves the Homoousion at first in their own sense, just
as many had already done at the Nicene council ; but with this differ-
ence, that the approximation was then the effect of outward constraint,
while at bottom there was an earnest desire that this compulsory union
might be dissolved ; but here, on the contrary, the approximation grew
out of inward inclination. Add to this, that all that was distinguished
on the side of science and intellect inclined to the doctrine of the
Homoousion ; and that this party accordingly, which must finally pre-
vail on account of the consistency of their system, obtained also in-’
creasing consequence by the superiority of the character and talents
enlisted on its side. 4
It was especially the three great church-teachers of Cappadocia,
Basil of Cesarea, his brother Gregory of Nyssa, and his friend Gregory
of Nazianzen, who, with the like prudent zeal, guided by freedom of
spirit and moderation of temper, contributed to procure the victory for:
the Nicene doctrines in the Oriental church. The labors of Basil fall
more particularly within the period of the reign of Valens. Not only
by his energy and firmness, but also by his high standing in the opinion
of the people, he offered a successful resistance to the tyranny of
Valens ; and by his means the entire province of Cappadocia was pre-
served from those desolations occasioned by the influence of arbitrary
will, which befell other provinces of the East. The emperor Valens,
when he visited Czesarea, was for compelling him to receive his Arians
into the fellowship of the church. The przefect Modestus sent for him,
and, on the principles of the Roman state religion, demanded whether
he alone, when all others obeyed the emperor, dared to wish to have
any other religion than that of his master. Basil replied that he had
nothing to be afraid of : possessions, of which men might deprive him,
he had none, except his few books, and his cloak. An exile was no
exile for him, since he knew that the whole earth is the Lord’s. If
1 Ὅτι μὴ τὰ βασιλέως ϑρησκεύεις.
VOL. 11. 80"
414 THEODOSIUS THE GREAT.
torture was threatened, his feeble body would yield to the first blows,
and death would bring him nearer to his God, after whom he longed.
Valens himself was constrained to show respect for Basil. Many times
he was on the point of condemning him to exile,! but he did not ven-
ture on that step. In general, the great love and the great consider-
ation in which many of the bishops stood with the people was a means
of security to their churches. The ardent desire of the people of.
Alexandria for Athanasius, who, for a wise purpose, had for some
months withdrawn himself, induced the emperor Valens, from the
apprehension of a tumult, to recall him ; and Athanasius enjoyed, in the
last years of his toilsome and stormy life, until 373, the quiet which had
before been denied him.
By Basil’s freedom of spirit and moderation, the union also was pro-
moted between the divided church parties — the union of the Western
and Eastern churches, which had been thrown into still more violent
hostility to each other in consequence of the Antiochian schism; and
he would have accomplished still more, had he been able to overcome
the pride and obstinacy of the Roman bishops. The alliance between
the Hast and the West had, however, the effect, at last, of inducing the
emperor Valentinian, in conjunction with his brother, to publish an
edict, in the year 375, in which they protested against those by whom
the name and power of the princes were wrongly made use of in perse-
cutions under pretext of religion.
The victory of the party attached to the Nicene council, the way for
which had been prepared by the free development of the church doc-
trine out of itself, was fully established externally also under the em-
peror Theodosius the Great. Already, by a law of the year 380, he
directed that only those who agreed with the bishops, Peter of Alex-
andria, or Damasus of Rome, in their system of faith, — that is, who
were in favor of the Nicene doctrine concerning the identity of essence,
—should remain in possession of the churches ; and this law the emperor
sought gradually to carry into execution. When, in the month of No-
vember of this year, he made his triumphal entry into Constantinople,
the Anti-Nicene party was there dominant, as it had been for forty
years. There was one individual who had been engaged for two years
in collecting together, and continually making additions to, the bereaved,
scattered community of those who, in the midst of the reigning Arian
party, professed the Nicene doctrine. ‘This was the before-mentioned
Gregory of Nazianzus, whose whole life took a character of instability
from oscillating between the contemplative bent and practical activity
in the discharge of official duties. As he had often already withdrawn
from the contemplative life to embark in ecclesiastical affairs; and
then, without due regard to propriety, had deserted his post and retired
again to the life of seclusion ; so now he had finally withdrawn from the
pressure of affairs, from the administration of the bishopric left vacant
by the death of his father at Nazianzen, to a retreat near Seleucia in
Isauria. It then came about, that he must be called from this quiet
1 Gregor. Naz. orat. 20.
GREGORY OF NAZIANZEN. 415
- seclusion to an unquiet public life of conflict and trial. He was sum-
moned to preside over that small and forsaken community consisting of
the oppressed adherents to the Nicene doctrme in Constantinople.
Renouncing once more the contemplative life, he undertook this mission,
partly because he deemed himself bound not to let the opportunity pass
unimproved, of effecting so much for the victory of pure doctrine as
might be accomplished at Constantinople ; in part also perhaps, because
the prospect of entering upon so wide and splendid a field of labor as
might be opened for him at Constantinople had more attractions for a
man who was not wholly free from vanity, than the narrow field at
Nazianzen. As, in large cities, splendid gifts of oratory were in no
small request, Gregory might, by that means, effect much for the spread
of the Nicene doctrine at Constantinople. Far-famed are the five dis-
courses which he preached there in defence of the Nicene doctrine of the
Trinity against the objections of the Eunomians, and which gained for him
the surname of the theologian! By the way in which he distinguished
himself from other impatient, violent bishops, who abandoned themselves
to the impulses of a passionate zeal ; by uniting moderation with zeal
for pure doctrine; by shaming his passionate and fanatical enemies
through his own gentleness and forbearance, he might doubtless effect
more than by his eloquence. It is also the merit of Gregory, that he
did not, like other church-teachers of this period who had been drawn
into the field of controversy, forget, in his zeal for those views of doctrine
which he had found to be correct, that the essence of Christianity does
not consist in speculative notions, but in the life ; that he did not suffer
himself to be misled by an exclusive zeal for orthodoxy of conceptions,
to neglect practical Christianity. Much rather did he make it a matter
of special concern to combat that exclusively pfevailing tendency to
speculation in religion, which tended to the injury of a living, active
Christianity, —a tendency which was so very agreeable to the mass
of worldly men, because it made it easy for them to put on the appear-
ance of zeal for piety and orthodoxy, and to deceive the judgment of
others, and in part also their own conscience, while they spared them-
selves from the contest with sin in their own hearts and in the world
without them. He often declared strongly against the delusive notion,
that all manner of frivolity might be united with zeal for sound doctrine,
and often presented before his hearers, with pointed earnestness, the
truth that, without a holy sense of divine things, men could have no
understanding of them; that sacred matters must be treated in a sacred
manner. He often spoke against the perverse manner of those who
looked upon discussions on divine things as any other conversation? on
topics of ordinary discourse, and often declared to them, that the full
and perfect knowledge of divine things was not the end of the present
earthly life, but that its end was, ‘by becoming holy, to become capa-
ble of the full intuition in the life eternal.” Gregory at first held the
1 Ὁ ϑεολόγος, because Yeoroyia, in the tinguished from οἰκονομία, the doctrine of
stricter sense, was the term applied to the _ his incarnation.
doctrine of Christ’s divinity, as contradis- 2 "Ὥσπερ τὰ ἵππικα kal τὰ ϑέατρα, οὕτω
καὶ τὰ ϑεία παίζειν.
416 GREGORY OF NAZIANZEN.
meetings of his church in the hall of a private house belonging to a
kinsman of his. This being the spot whence the triumph of the Nicene
doctrine at Constantinople began, the private place of assembly was
subsequently converted into a large church, which, in commemoration of
the resurrection of the pure doctrine there commenced, received the
name of Anastasia.
Thus the emperor Theodosius, on his entering into Constantinople,
found the community .whose faith he ackuowledged as his own, with its
bishop, Gregory, not even in possession of a church, but assembled in
one corner of the city in a private house; while the Arian: bishop
Demophilus was in possession of all the churches. The emperor left it
to the latter’s choice, either to subscribe to the Nicene creed, or to give
up the churches. Demophilus was not a man who regarded the favor
of princes and earthly prosperity as of more account than the interests
of religion and of the truth. He chose to do the latter ; and the Arians,
from this time onward, were obliged to hold their assemblies at Con-
stantinople without the city walls, which they continued to do until into
the sixth century.
Gregory was then conducted by the emperor, surrounded by his
nobles, and the imperial body guard, which was necessary to protect
him from the insults of the fanatical multitude still devoted to Arianism,
into the cathedral. The heavens were overclouded and dark, when
this took place, which was interpreted by the superstition of the bigoted
zealots as a token of the divine anger. But, as the clouds scattered,
and the sun broke through, this delusion was refuted, and a favorable
impression produced. The emperor now resolved to assemble a second
general council in the capital of the East Roman empire, which should
settle the hitherto-disputed questions, seal the triumph of the Nicene
doctrine, and at the same time solemnly inaugurate the new patriarch
of Constantinople, Gregory of Nazianzen, according to the original plan.
In the beginning, when for the most part none but Asiatic bishops were
present at the council, Meletius, bishop of Antioch, venerable on ac-
count of his great age and his opposition to the Arian doctrines, stood
at the head of the assembled body ; and by him Gregory of Nazianzen
was consecrated bishop of Constantinople. Meletius soon after died ;
and Gregory came in possession of the highest authority, which, more-
over, his new position, as patriarch of the second capital of the world,
would give him.
To Gregory had been bequeathed, by his friend Basil, the favorite
plan of bringing about, between the two great portions of the church, a
restoration of the peace which had been disturbed, especially. by the
Antiochian schism. The death of Meletius, during the session of the
council, furnished a favorable opportunity for effecting this object:
Paulinus, too, was very old; and if no successor was chosen to Meletius,
the steps probably might soon be taken for.a new choice, in which both
the parties could unite, and the schism would be brought to an end.
Gregory used every possible argument to persuade the other Oriental
bishops, although, as the friend of Meletius, he might be more preju-
diced than others on this side. But his arguments were defeated by
THE SCHISM TERMINATED. GREGORY’S RESIGNATION. 417
the ambition and obstinacy of many, who would yield none of their
rights, and who chose the bishop Flavianus as Meletius’ successor.
Thus a new prop was given to the schism, which continued to propagate
itself till the beginning of the fifth century, although the influence of
the Eustathian party was ever on the wane. The manner in which this
division was at last wholly removed, stood in direct contrast to the
manner in which it had been elicited and maintained ; evincing how,
in matters of this sort, the advances of love will accomplish vastly more
than all force and all arguments of persuasion. The venerable bishop,
Alexander of Antioch, on a festival day, conducted his whole flock,
clergy and laity, to the church where the Eustathians held their assem-
blies. All united together in prayer and song; even the crowd who,
as the church was insufficient to contain them, stood assembled in the
streets. Devotion and brotherly love met together; all hearts were
one ; a feast of charity was celebrated, and the division was thought of |
no longer.
To return to the point from which we digressed: Gregory, disgusted
at seeing his colleagues sacrifice in this way the good of the church to
their private passions, withdrew himself entirely from public transac-
tions, vitiated by so many impure motives. When afterwards the Egyp-
tian and the Western bishops arrived, who belonged to the Anti-
Meletian party, they took no pains to conceal the dissatisfaction which
they felt at the appointment of Gregory as patriarch of Constantinople,
because Gregory was a friend of Meletius, and had been ordained by ©
him ; and for various other reasons. ‘They could bring at least an
apparent argument, on grounds of justice, against the validity of Greg-
ory’s appointment, namely, that he had, at all, events, been earlier
instituted and regarded as bishop over another community (either at
Nazianzen or at Sasina;) and therefore, according to the laws of the
church, could not be transferred to another bishopric ;— an ecclesias-
tical rule, which, it must be owned, was often enough transgressed in
the East, without any such weighty reasons as might be urged in the
present case, and which assuredly, when appealed to, must have served,
on the part of the Orientals, as a cover for other motives. The bishops
of the Roman church, which was more strict in its observance of this
law, may have been more sincere in appealing to it. But Gregory of
Nazianzus had no desire to enter into a profane quarrel about a splendid
church office. He requested the emperor and the bishops that he might
be allowed to resign this office, since he would very readily, like Jonah,
sacrifice himself for the ship of the church; although this request per-
haps was not designed in the first place to be so seriously taken. His
petition being at once universally accepted,— which perhaps, being what
he had not expected, chagrined him,—he delivered, before the assembled
council of a hundred and fifty bishops, a farewell discourse, in which he
dealt out many a hard truth against the worldly-minded bishops.
Gregory of Nyssa seems now, by the superiority of his well-trained
intellect, to have acquired special influence over the doctrinal transac-
1 Theodoret. V. 35.
418 DOCTRINE CONCERNING THE HOLY SPIRIT.
tions of the council. The result of it was precisely what the preceding
struggles had been preparing the way for, that the Nicene creed, which
before had been forced on the Oriental church, and therefore repelled
by it, was now voluntarily adopted by a great majority of that church,
where it found a more general welcome. In the provincial cities, where
the dogmatizing spirit was not so prevalent, the transition from Arian- |
ism to the Nicene doctrine often took place in a very imperceptible
manner. For when the people heard Christ called from the pulpits,
“ God and the Son of God, the begotten before all time,” they were led
by their Christian feelings to place in these words more than was meant
by the Arian preachers, according to their own connection of ideas, into
which the people did not enter; and so Hilary remarked, that “ the
ears of the audience were more pious than the hearts of the preachers.”
Accordingly, when Homoousian preachers took the place of the Arians,
the people remarked no very great change.!
The Nicene creed, in the new form in which it was here made known,
departed but slightly from the original one. The most important
change was an addition to the doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit,
which was brought about by the farther progress in the development of
the church system ; which leads us now to throw a glance on the history
of this doctrine, the determination of which belonged with the rest to
the complete and established form of the doctrine of the Trinity.
As it concerns the doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit, a much longer
time transpired before the idea of the unity of essence was consistently
carried out in its application to this part also of the Christian conscious-
ness of God. The system of subordination would of course extend itself
also, after the due measure and proportion, to this doctrine ; as was
apparent in the church-teachers of the preceding period. The views
of Origen on this point also were the prevailing ones in the system of
the Eastern church, until they were suppressed by the consistent de-
velopment and the triumph of the doctrine concerning the Homoousion.
It is remarkable that, at the Nicene council, the doctrine concerning the
Holy Spirit was expressed only in very vague and general terms. Yet
the opposition to Arius ought naturally to have led to a more exact deter-
mination here ; for, while Arius regarded the Holy Spirit as being the
first created nature produced by the Son of God, he placed the same
distance betwixt the Son and the Holy Spirit which he had supposed
between the Father and the Son.” But this point possessed as yet no
very great interest in doctrinal polemics ; and many who saw their way
clear to subscribe to the Homoousion as it respected the Son of God,
would have scrupled to extend this same determination also to the Holy
Spirit. The unity of the Christian consciousness of God had here so
little permeated as yet the apprehension of the idea, that Gregory of
Nazianzen could still say, in the year 380:. ‘ Some of our theologians
1 Hilarius Pictav. c. Auxentium liber § 6. ante tempora, putant id ipsnm ante tempora
Hoc putant illi fidei esse, quod vocis est. esse, quod semper est. Sanctiores aures
Audiunt Deum Christum, putant esse, quod plebis, quam corda sunt sacerdotum.
dicitur. Audiunt Filium Dei, putant in Dei 2 See Athanas. orat. I. ο. Arian. § 6
nativitate inesse Dei veritatem. Audiunt
DIFFERENT VIEWS OF THE DOCTRINE. 419
consider the Holy Spirit to be a certain mode of the divine agency (as,
for instance, Lactantius had done in the preceding period ;) others, a
creature of God; others, God himself. Others say, they do not know
themselves which of the two opinions they ought to adopt, out of reve-
rence for the holy scriptures, which have not clearly explained this
point.” Hilary of Poictiers held it best to remain fast by the simple
scripture doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit, which, as it seemed to
him, furnished no materials for exact logical definitions of this doctrine.
He believed that he found im the sacred scriptures no such exact defi-
nitions concerning the relation of the Holy Spirit to the Father, as he
found concerning the relation of the Son. He supposed that he found
the name God nowhere used expressly of the Holy Spirit, and he
did not venture therefore expressly so to name him; but yet a great
deal seemed to him to be already implied, when the Holy Spirit is
called in scripture the Spirit of God, and it is said of him that he
searches the deep things of God. He was well aware, as he expresses
it, in his own original way, that nothing could be foreign from God’s
essence which penetrates into its depths.1 ‘ Should one ask us,” says
he, ‘‘ what is the Holy Spirit, and we knew of nothing further to reply
than that he exists by and from Him by whom and from whom are all
things, that he is the Spirit of God, but also God’s gift to believers, —
and this answer displeased him, then might the apostles and prophets
also displease him ; for they affirm only this of him, that he eaists.” ?
The system of Eunomius discovers itself on this point also to be a
dead, narrow theory, which had by no means sprung from the depth
of the inner Christian life. The Holy Spirit, according to Eunomius,
is the first among the created natures, formed according to the command
of the Father, by the agency of the Son; which Spirit, as being the
first after the Son, has received indeed the power to sanctify and to
teach, but wants the divine and creative power. But yet how could
the power to sanctify, to enlighten, be rightly conceived, unless it was:
referred back to the divine fellowship of life of which the redeemed are
made partakers? And how could this be held fast, if men separated the
power to sanctify and to teach from the essence of God, and from the
power of creating? We perceive here an arbitrary severance of con-
ceptions, which is in contradiction with the unity of the Christian life.
But this unity was, in opposition to Arianism, from the first everywhere
foremost in the systematically consistent Athanasius. He was led, par-
ticularly and expressly, to unfold this doctrine, because many of the
Semi-Arians were on the point of adopting the Homoousion, explaining
it to themselves according to their own meaning, but without being
able to make up their minds to apply this determination to the Holy
Spirit. ‘The latter appeared to them a being created by the Son, as
an instrument for carrying into effect the divine purposes ; a minister-
ing spirit, like the angels. In opposition to these, Athanasius sought to
show that Arianism could be consistently renounced, only when men
1 De Trinitate 1. 12,¢.55. In an address profundum majestatis tue, peregring atque
to God: Nulla te, nisi res tua, penetrat; nec aliens a te virtutis causa metitur.
2 L. II. de Trinitate, § 29.
420 DOCTRINE CONCERNING THE HOLY SPIRIT.
acknowledged in the Triad, nothing foreign to God’s own essence ;
when men acknowledged but one essence agreeing with itself, self
identical. He adduces in proof of the divinity and identity of essence
of the Holy Spirit, to the testimony of the Holy Spirit and to the wit-
ness of the universal Christian consciousness, unfoldmmg what is con-
tained in both these testimonies: ‘‘ How could that which is sanctified
by nothing out of itself, which is itself the source of sanctification for
all created natures, be of the same essence with that which is sanctified
by it? In the Holy Spirit we receive fellowship with God, participa-
tion in one divine life ; but this could not be so, if the Holy Spirit were
acreature. As certainly as we are by him made partakers of the
divine nature, so certainly must he himself be one with the divine
essence.! As he who has seen the Son sees the Father, so he who has
the Son has also the Holy Spirit ; and he who has the Holy Spirit has
also the Son, and is a temple of God. As the Son, being in the
Father, and the Father being in him, cannot be a creature, so neither can
the Holy Spirit, being in the Son, and the Son being in him, be a crea-
ture.2 From this time forward, the identity of the essence of the Holy
Spirit with the Father and the Son was maintained by the most emi-
nent teachers of the Oriental church, by such men as Basil of Czesarea,
Gregory of Nazianzen, Amphilochius and Didymus; and at length this
doctrine also passed over into the synodal articles. After the Alexan-
drian council, already mentioned, and an Illyrian one of the year 3753
had set the example in this matter, the extension of the ὁμοούσιον to the
doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit was adopted also into the new form
which the Nicene creed received through the second general council at
Constantinople. The Holy Spirit was described by this Nicene-Con-
stantinopolitan creed, in the scriptural phraseology, as ‘‘ the Spirit pro-
ceeding from the Father; the governing, quickening Spirit, who is to
be worshipped and honored at the same time with the Father and the
Son.” 4
On the first clause of this formula, there arose, in later times, a
difference of views between the two portions of the church, the Eastern
and the Western, the germ of which we discover even in the present
eriod.
Ἵ In the Eastern church, it was according to the prevailing view to con-
sider God the Father as being ‘ the sole efficient cause (causa efficiens)
of all existence ; the Logos as being the revealing and mediatory prin-
ciple ; and the Holy Ghost as being the completive divine principle in
the creation. God the Father effected all through the Son in the Holy
Spirit.” °> As connected also with this view of the matter, in the Oriental
1 Ep. I. ad Serapion, § 24. Ei δὲ ϑεο-
ποίει, οὐκ ἀμφίβολον, ὅτι ἡ τουτοῦ φύσις ϑεοῦ
ἔστι.
2 See Athanas. ep. I. III. IV. to the bish-
op Serapion of Thmuis.
8 Which was the first to extend the ὁμοού-
ovov to the doctrine concerning the Holy
Spirit.
4 Τὸ κυρίον, τὸ ζωοποιὸν, τὸ ἐκ τοῦ πατρὸς
ἐκπορεύον͵ σὺν τῷ πατρὶ καὶ τῷ vlw συμπρο-
σκυνούμενον καὶ συνδοξαζόμενον.
5 Athanas. 6. Serapion. 1. I. c. 94, The
Father creates and renews all through his
Logos in the Holy Spirit. Basil. Caesar
de Sp. S.c. 16. By the will of the Father
all spirits have received their existence, by
the agency of the Son they were brought
into existence, by the presence of the Holy
DIFFERENT VIEWS OF THE DOCTRINE. 421
- church, the unity of the divine essence rested upon this as its basis,
that God the Father should be acknowledged as ‘the sole efficient
cause (the μία ἀρχῇ) from whom all else was derived, from whom the Son
was generated, and from whom the Holy Spirit proceeded, and who effects
all through the Son and in the Holy Spirit.””. This formula, so connected
with the views of the Oriental church, that the Holy Spirit proceeds
from the Father, ‘‘ was made especially prominent and held fast in
opposition to the doctrine of the creation of the Spirit —that the Holy
Spirit is not related, after the same manner as the Son, to the essence
of God, but is a creature of the Son.’’ The opposite to this doctrine
was expressed as follows: ‘‘ that the Holy Spirit does not derive his
essence from the Son in the way of dependence, but is related after
the like independent manner to the Father, as the common ground ;
that as the Son is begotten of the Father, so the Holy Spirit proceeds
from the Father.”
As it concerns, on the other hand, the exposition of this doctrine in
the Western church, it was believed, especially ever since the time of
the more precise logical carrying-out of the conception of the unity of
essence in the Triad by Augustin, that, in order to hold fast the doctrine
in a consistent manner, the inference must necessarily be drawn, that
as the Son of God was in all respects identical in essence with the
Father, and as the Father had communicated all to the Son, so, too, the
Holy Spirit proceeds as well from the Son as from the Father. There
are not two different Spirits, one belonging to the Father, the other to
the Son: but there is one Spirit of both ; — as he is called in the holy .
scriptures sometimes the Spirit of the Father, sometimes the Spirit of
the Son. How, then, could it be otherwise than that he, the Spirit of
both, proceeds from both?! As the Homoousion was made prominent
in opposition to Arianism, so it was believed necessary also, in the same
opposition, to express this definition, viz., that the Holy Spirit pro-
ceeds from the Son and from the Father, and the contrary appeared
as being a remnant of the Arian system of subordination.2 Added to
this was Augustin’s speculative theory concerning the doctrine of the
Spirit they are completed in their existence.
There are not τρεῖς dpyai, but μία ἀρχῇ,
δημιουργοῦσα δι’ viot καὶ τελειοῦσα ἐν πνεύ-
ματι. Gregory of Nyssa, T. III. de baptis-
mo Christi, represents the Father as the
ἀρχῆ, the Son as the δημιοῦργος, the πνεύμα
as the τελειωτίκον τῶν πάντων. Basil of
Cesarea endeavors, in his 38th letter, to
show how it is necessary, from the opera-
tions of God in man, one should mount,
step by step, to the idea of the Trinity. All
good which is wrought in us by the power
of God, we recognize as the operation of
the Holy Spirit. From this we pass to the
idea of the author of all the good which is
wrought in us by the Holy Spirit, who is
the Son of God. Buthe is not the supreme
and highest ground-cause, (dpy7,) but this
last is the Father; thus we ascend from the
Son to the Father.
36
VOL. II.
1 See e. g. Augustin. Tract. 100, in evan-
gel. Joh. δ. A quo autem habet Filius, ut
sit Deus (est enim de Deo Deus,) ab illo
habet utique, ut etiam de illo procedat
Spiritus Sanctus, ac per hoc Spiritus Sanc-
tus, ut etiam de Filio procedat, sicut procedit
de Patre, ab ipso habet Patre.
2 Keeping at a distance all notions of
time, and everything that bordered on sub-
ordinationism, Augustin was unwilling to
let even the representation pass, that the
Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father to
the Son, and then first proceeds from the
Son, to sanctify the creature. Spiritus
Sanctus non de Patre procedit in Filium, et
de Filio procedit ad sanctificandam creatu-
ram, sed simul de utroque procedit, quam-
vis hoc Filio Pater dederit, ut quemadmo-
dum de se, ita de illo quoque procedit. L. δ.
4
4;
422 THEODORE OF MOPSUESTIA AND THEODORET.
Trinity, by which this definition was favored; where we must confess that
his confusion of metaphysics with religion led him astray. Although a
profound experience of the Christian life ever lay at bottom, yet, notwith-
standing this, he transported the doctrine of the Trinity very much away
from its proper historico-practical ground to a speculative one ; and
the confusion of two heterogeneous provinces met its appropriate pun-
ishment in leading him to mistake a play of analogies for a demon-
stration. God the Father is the divine Being; the Son is-knowledge,
as a self-manifestation of this being, — hence the Son is begotten of the
Father ; Will, love, as that wherein being and knowing embrace each
other, is the fellowship of both, the exhibition of the divine unity ; hence
the Holy Spirit, as the fellowship, is the love in which both embrace
each other, and which proceeds from both. And since the Holy Spirit
denotes the fellowship of both, he is also that whereby we may be made
partakers of the fellowship with the Father and Son. In all nature too,
as a manifestation of God, Augustin believed that he saw a symbol of
this Trinity, there being everywhere to be observed a universal being,
the particular being, and the unity and harmony of the whole.!
Moreover, the opposition between the two theories came, even already,
to be publicly expressed ; although, on the part of the Western church,
it was not the Oriental church doctrine, but Arianism ; and although, on
the part of the Oriental church, it was not the Western church doctrine,
but the doctrine of the creation of the Spirit, which constituted the mat-
ters of dispute. Nevertheless, the way was thereby prepared for a strug:
gle betwixt the two tendencies. Thus, the great Syrian church-teacher,
Theodore of Mopsuestia, in his confession of faith, contended against
the representation that the Holy Spirit did not derive his essence im-
mediately from God the Father, but had received his existence through
the Son.2 Cyrill of Alexandria having, in the ninth of his anathemas,
pronounced sentence of condemnation on those who denied that the
Holy Spirit is a property of Christ,? Theodoret remarks upon this, in
his refutation of these anathemas: “‘If it is meant to be said here,
that the Holy Spirit is of like essence with the Son of God, and pro-
ceeds from the Father, let this be conceded. But if it is meant to be
said, that he has his existence from the Son, or through the Son, let it
be rejected as blasphemous ;”’ and he refers for proof to John 15 : 26;
1 Corinth. 2:12. Theodore and Theodoret both evidently intended here
to combat but one and the same doctrine,— that which favored the no-
tion of the creation of the Spirit. The same was the case, on the other
hand, in the Western church. When the West-Gothic church of Spain,
in the time of king Reccared, went over from the Arian doctrine to the
Nicene, that Western theory was first adopted as an addition to the
1 Sermo 71, ὁ 18. In Spiritu Sancto in- ordo. Confessio, 1. 13, c. XI. de vera reli
sinuatur Patris Filiique communitas. Quod
ergo commune est Patri et Filio, per hoe nos
habere communionem et inter nos et secum.
Serm. 212. Spiritus Sanctus, unitas ambo-
rum. De Trinitat. 1. 15, ὁ 27. Per Spiritum
Sanctum insinuatur caritas, qua invicem se
diligunt Pater et Filius. — Esse, species rei et
gione, § 13.
2 Διὰ υἱοῦ τὴν ὕπαρξιν εἰληφύς.
8 Ἴδιον εἶναι τοῦ Χριστοῦ, ‘These words,
according to their proper connection, do
not belong here, but are taken simply in
the connection which Theodoret gave to
them, for the purpose of attacking them.
AMBROSE OF MILAN. ARIANISM AMONG THE VANDALS. 423
- Niceno-Constantinopolitan creed.1_ At the third ecclesiastical assembly
of Toledo, A.D. 589, the creed was presented with this addition, and sen-
tence of condemnation pronounced on those who did not believe that
the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and Son, where evidently
those were intended who still remained attached to the Arian doctrine
which hitherto prevailed there.”
As we observed, the Oriental church was the proper theatre for the
controversies on the doctrine of the Trinity, with regard to which the
Western church, in the main, kept itself more tranquil. The Anti-
Nicene doctrine had found here but few advocates. ‘The most consid-
erable man among these latter was Auxentius, bishop of Milan, who
was rather inclined to Semi-Arianism, and who defended the symbol of
faith drawn up at Rimini. The major part of his church being satisfied
with him, he was protected by the emperor Valentinian, conformably
with that prince’s maxim of toleration. After the death of Auxentius,
in 374, a violent schism arose at the choice of a new bishop. Ambrose,
who, as consular over the provinces of Liguria and Amilia, had his head
quarters at Milan, deemed it necessary to go himself into the church,
and exhort the people from the chancel to be quiet. A child — perhaps
so instructed — shouted the name of Ambrose ; and this was considered
to be a voice from God in favor of Ambrose, who already, in his civil
offices, had acquired universal esteem and love. The fact that he was
but a catechumen was not allowed to be any impediment. He was
first baptized, and somewhat later ordained as bishop. The church of
Milan afterwards came into critical situations, in which she was pro-
tected by the energy and firmness which Ambrose had acquired and
preserved in other offices, and in other relations. The empress Justina,
the mother of the young emperor Valentinian II., took advantage of his
minority to contrive some method of introducing Arianism, which had
zealous friends among the leaders of the allied troops of the Goths.
Had Ambrose yielded in a single point, had he given up to them a
single church, they would probably have continually gone on increas- -
ing their demands. It was said, the emperor had power to determine
all matters within his government, that the churches belonged to-him.
Ambrose, on the other hand, affirmed that they were entrusted to him
by God. The plans of Justina were met and defeated by his energy,
firmness, and superior influence.
Semi-Arianism and Arianism continued to predominate for some time
among the rude populations, especially of German origin, which were
during this period converted to Christianity ; because they had been
first instructed by teachers who were attached to those principles ; be-
cause they held fast to the form in which they had once received Christ-
ianity, and this very form may have constituted a convenient point of
1 Spiritus Sanctus, qui procedit a Patre
Filioque.
2 A conciliatory mean betwixt the two
theories was offered by Augustin’s expla-
nation, that inasmuch as the Son has every-
thing from the Father, but everything as
shared with the Father, so it might be said,
Spiritum Sanctum principaliter procedere 8
Patre. Augustin de Trinitate, |. 15, ¢. 17,
de civitate Dei, 1. XI. c. 24; and with this
intermediate view the theories of an Atha-
nasius and a Basil might also agree. See
above.
424 DOCTRINE CONCERNING THE PERSON OF CHRIST.
transition for these rude nations. This mode of apprehending the doc-
trine of the Trinity may have been better suited to them than the more
completely developed Nicene view. It seems to have been a peculiarity
of the Semi-Arian theologians, whereby perhaps they were better adapted
to be teachers of the rude tribes of people, that, being less practised logi-
cians, they adhered more tenaciously to the simple Bible doctrine, and
were not for teaching anything which they could not prove with the -
exactness of verbal testimony from the Bible. Hence they frequently
offered it as an objection to the defenders of the Nicene council, that
they were obliged to have recourse to speculative reasoning, instead of
the Bible, to prove the Homoousion.!
ΤῸ the rude populations among whom Arianism found admission,
belonged the Vandals. When, in 430, this tribe took possession of
North Africa, there arose, under their kings, Geiserich and Hunne-
rich, several violent persecutions against the adherents of the Nicene
doctrine. In part, the Vandal princes wished to retaliate the oppres-
sions which their companions in the faith had to suffer in the Roman
empire ; in part, those of their subjects who agreed in faith with the
Roman Christians were objects of suspicion to them; and in part they
were led on by the rude, fanatical, Arian clergy. Victor, bishop of
Vita, in Numidia, near the close of the fifth century, wrote a history
of this persecution.
But the new Nicene form of the doctrine of the Trinity, which at
length obtained the victory over the older system of subordination, had
an important influence also on the whole system of Christian theology.
The emanation-doctrine in the Triad left still remaining a point of
attachment, a foothold, for the emanation-theory; and accordingly
speculative questions of cosmogony might here find scope and encour-
agement, as in the case of Origen. But then inasmuch as, by the
consistent Athanasian system, the strong line of demarcation was drawn
between that which is grounded in the essence of God, derived from
that essence, and one and the same with it, and that which had been
produced by a divine act of the will out of nothing,?— that is, all
which must be comprehended under the notion of a creature, —so the
Christian idea of creation was thus preserved against all confusion with
the emanation-theory.
b. Doctrine concerning the Person of Christ.
Closely connected with the history of the doctrine of Christ’s divine
nature, is the history of the doctrine of his human nature, and of the
relation of the human element to the divine in his person; for the
opposite tendencies in the mode of apprehending the former doctrine
would extend their influence also to the different modes of conceiving
this latter. They who apprehended the notion of Christ’s divinity
with greater exactness, would thereby be led to apprehend with more
1 The Arian Maximinus says to Augus- discipuli. Augustin. c. Maximin. Arian
tin: Si affirmaveris de divinis scripturis, si 1.1. ὁ 26. ᾿
alicubi scriptam lectionem protuleris, — nos 2 Concerning the meaning of this ex
divinarum scripturarum optamus inveniri pression, see vol. III.
ARIUS. EUNOMIUS. MARCELLUS OF ANCYRA. 425
distinctness and precision the notion of his human nature, and to draw
a clearer line of separation between the predicates of the divine and
the human nature, in order that they might secure themselves against
the transfer of human finitude to the divine essence of Christ. On the
other hand, those who represented to themselves the Logos as being
the most perfect among all created beings, but still as not being God
in the proper sense, had therefore no occasion for making precise and
accurate distinctions between the divine and human nature of Christ,
since their conception of Christ’s divine nature did not exclude the
supposition of a certain finitude ; and the not distinguishing here might
in truth be advantageous to their system, and supply many proofs for
their subordination-system, which would have been taken away from
them by the distinction of two complete natures. And on this point
Arius did actually adopt into his system the older, still undefined
and undeveloped doctrine, in the form which it had previous to the
new stage of development to which it was carried by Tertullian, and
more especially by Origen. Arius and Eunomius! made the incarna-
tion of the Logos to consist simply in his becoming united with a
human body. Thus they could now avail themselves of all those pas-
sages of the New Testament in which they found anything expressed
denoting a finite nature, hinting at a subordinate relation of Christ, as
evidence against the doctrine of consubstantiality. But if in such
passages the defenders of the Homoousion met them with the distine-
tion of the two natures, by which this was to be explained, then they
charged these defenders with denying the true personal unity of the
God-man, with making the one Son of God and the one Christ, two Ὁ
Sons of God and two Christs ;— the same objection which was made
to Origen in the preceding period, when he first gave systematic form
to the doctrine of Christ’s complete human nature.
Whilst, by Arius and Eunomius, the older church doctrine of
Christ’s humanity was brought up anew, the older Sabellianism and
the older Samosatenianism was repeated over again in the doctrines of ᾿
Marcellus of Ancyra and of Photinus. As we have already remarked,
Marcellus referred everything which seemed to denote a species of
dependence, subordination, or limitation, not to the Logos by himself
considered, but to his particular active efficiency,* by virtue of which
he had taken into union with himself also the human nature of Christ.
To this particular efficiency, whereby the divine Logos had, as it were,
come forth from the hidden essence of God, he referred the entire
human appearance of Christ, which had for its object to manifest God
in the sensible nature of man, to elevate man to God and to a partici-
pation in the divine life, and to procure for him the victory over sin.
Until this object should be attained, the separate kingdom of Christ,
growing out of this particular activity of the Logos, was to endure.
1 From Gregor. Nyss. orat. f. 482, it is 2 See Eunomius against Basil. Gregor.
plain, that the words in the confession of Nyssen. ο. Eunom. orat. IV. f. 578.
faith of Eunomius must read as follows: 8 The éveoyeia δραστικὴ τοῦ λόγου.
Οὐκ ἀναλαβόντα ἐκ ψυχῆς καὶ σώματος ἀν-
ϑρώπου.
VOL. II. ΘΟ,
426 DOCTRINE OF MARCELLUS OF ANCYRA.
But as soon as the object was attained, God would withdraw back into
himself this efficiency of the Logos, which had emanated from him;
and the separate kingdom of Christ, therewith connected, would again
resolve itself into the one, universal, eternal kingdom of God the
Father, — all which, as he supposed, could be shown from 1 Cor. 15: 28.
This active energy (évepyeia dpaotx) of the Logos he made to consist,
however, in nothing else than the mspiring with a soul the human
body, which the Logos, by so doing, appropriated to himself. In his
opinion, which agrees in this respect with that of Beryll of Bostra, and
of Sabellius, the entire personal existence and consciousness of Christ
was a result of this évepyeia ὁραστιῆ. But here, according to his own
theory, he must have been surprised by the question and the difficulty,
‘What then was to become of the body of Christ, which had thus
been animated with a soul, and transfigured to an imperishable exist-
ence, when God should once more withdraw into himself the energy
of the Logos that had emanated from him and had effected all this?”
Marcellus, who was not a logical systematizer, who was actuated by
only one single interest, that of holding fast the unity of the Christian
consciousness of God, who ever took the stand of opposition to specu-
lative caprice, and to the dogmatism which was for determining too
many things, and would hold fast on nothing but what he believed he
found expressly determined in scripture, left the difficulty unsolved ;
at the same time affirming, that it was not safe to determine anything
on this point, since holy writ had given no definite solution of the
question.1 But the more logical Photinus, to whom the doctrine of
the existence of God in Christ seemed less important, was not to be
satisfied with thus admitting the difficulty without resolving it; and as
he clearly understood and expressed with precision the Samosatenian
theory, to which Marcellus unconsciously inclined in his doctrine of
the Logos, so he adopted also its peculiar representation of the human
nature of Christ. He made the évepyeia δραστικῆ of the Logos here to
consist, not in the animating of the body of Christ with a soul, but in
the enlightening influence of the Logos on the man Jesus, consisting
of body and soul, whereby he stood preéminent over all other prophets
and divine messengers, and became the Son of God.?
1 Euseb. c. Marcell. 1. II. ¢. 11. IV. tenet ; but it is altogether apropos, if Pho-
2 This representation of the doctrine of
Photinus seems certainly to be in accord-
ance with the majority of the reports of
ancient writers; and it was this false doc-
trine which men designated with the name
- Photinianism, while at the same time they
were accustomed to compare his theory
with that of Paul of Samosata. But still
the question arises, whether these accounts
are perfectly correct. The council of Sir-
mium in 351 directs against Photinus,
among others also, the following anethema:
Ei τὶς τὸ ὁ λόγος caps ἐγένετο ἀκούων, τὸν
λόγον εἰς σάρκα μεταβεβλῆσϑαι νομίζοι, 7
τροπὴν ὑπομενηκότα ἀνειληφέναι τὴν σάρκα.
It cannot be conceived how this could be
said in opposition to any Samosatenian
tinus, like his teacher Marcellus, and like
Sabellius, derived the entire human exist-
ence of Christ from a certain irradiation of
the Logos into the σάρξ. Perhaps, however,
he differed from Marcellus precisely in this,
that he explained the so-constituted person-
ality of Christ as destined indeed to endure
Jor ever, but held that his kingdom was to
last only for a certain definite period. The
ancients do, indeed, sometimes compare
Photinus with Sabellius; but it must be
owned, their views of the difference between
the doctrine of Paul and that of Sabellius
were not clear, and this very circumstance
may also have Jed them to a false represen-
tation of Photin’s doctrine.
DOCTRINE OF THE TWO GREGORIES. 427
In opposition to these two tendencies in the mode of conceiving this
doctrine, the Arian and the Photinian, the two others now proceeded
to form themselves in the dogmatico-polemical interest, maintaining, on
the one hand, the completeness of the human nature of Christ, and,
on the other, the true personal union of the two natures. According
as the one or the other of these predominated, differences would now
arise in the mode of apprehending this doctrine. Yet it was sought
at first to hold fast the theory of personal unity along with the com-
pleteness of the human nature taken up into union with the Logos, as
the essential thing; in doing which many differences in particular
modes of conception might have existed, without encroaching on the
unity of faith The most eminent church-teachers, such as Athana-
sius, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nazianzen, labored to preserve the
unity of faith on this side, and to suppress those schisms which were
now existing in the bud. But the germ of antagonisms was already
formed, which could no longer be suppressed, but must go on to de-
velope themselves without stop or hindrance.
Especially important was the influence of the two great church-
teachers of Cappadocia, Gregory of Nazianzen and Gregory of Nyssa,
on the development of this doctrine. We find in them the further
prosecution of the tendency which commenced with Origen. They
adopted from Origen the doctrine, that the Logos united himself, by
the mediation of a rational human soul, (of a ψυχὴ νοερά,) with the sen-
suous nature. The essential point of this union, the characteristic
mark of the personal unity, they placed in this, namely, that the divine.
Logos took all the parts of human nature into fellowship with himself,
and pervaded them. They affirmed, it is true, that this permeation
took place potentially from the first moment of the human existence ;
but, with Origen, they taught at the same time that its consequences,
in respect to all the parts of human nature, did not unfold themselves
until after Christ’s resurrection ; that, after his ascension to glory, his
body also became transfigured to a form analogous with the divine es-
sence. See vol. I. p. 639.
In refutation of the charge brought by Eunomius, that, by the sup-
position of a complete human nature in Christ, along with the divine
nature, a duality was ascribed to him, Gregory of Nyssa says: “ Be-
1 As, for example, Hilary of Poictiers
expressed his own peculiar mode of appre-
hending the doctrine as follows: Christum
sibi animam assumsisse ex se et corpus per
se; i.e. a soul derived in some way from
his divine essence, to which it was especial-
ly related; and a body miraculously so
wrought by the divine informing power,
that although in shape it resembled other
human bodies, it was yet of a more exalted
nature, so that to all sensuous affections
which he was not liable to by any necessity
of nature, he voluntarily subjected himself
to secure a particular object in view, viz.
the salvation of man, κατ᾽ οἰκονομίαν. See
Hilar. de Trinitate, 1. 1X.et X. A doctrine
similar to that set forth in the preceding
period by Clement of Alexandria, accord-
ing to which, it must be admitted, especial-
ly so far as it concerns the view of Hilary,
that the ideal of purely human virtue,
which Christ must present, in order to be
the Redeemer of mankind and the author
of a new moral creation in humanity, could
not be rightly understood. To this theory
of the body, Hilary sutfered himself to be
misled by the false ascetic theory which de-
rived sin particularly from the sensuous
nature. As it respects the other position,
however, the correct notion hovered before
his mind, that the human nature of Christ
cannot be regarded as one that came in the
natural course of the development of sin
ful humanity.
428 DOCTRINE OF
yond question, such a duality would find place, if, along with the divine
nature, there existed in Christ another alien one in its own peculiar
characteristic marks and properties. But as everything had been
transformed after the analogy of the divine nature, into which the hu-
man has risen, as wood into the fire, such a distinction no longer holds
good.”! From this theory was derived the argument for a transfer of
the divine predicates to the human nature, and vice versa; for a recip- .
rocal interchange of attributes.2 As, in the case of Gregory of Nyssa,
the principles of the Origenistic system of faith appear everywhere
more sharply defined than they do in the case of Gregory of Nazian-
zen ; so he maintained that the glorified body of Christ, by that subli-
mation (ἀνάκρασις) into the essence of the divine nature, laid aside
gravity, shape, color, limitation, all the properties of the sensuous
nature: a proper human nature was to be ascribed to it only during
the period of its earthly appearance. Hence also he taught the doc-
trine of the omnipresence of the glorified body of Christ: “After the
same manner as Christ exists in the superterrestrial regions, so also he
exists with ws in all parts of the world.’ 3
In opposition to this theory, derived from the Origenistic theology,
came forth another system, which once more exerted a special influence
on the course of development of the doctrine we are considering;
namely, that of the younger Apollinaris, a man thoroughly trained in
the study of the ancient Greek literature, and a native of Laodicea in
Syria, of which city he finally became bishop. ‘The great effort of this
teacher was again to suppress the doctrine of a perfect human nature
taken up into indissoluble union with the divine Logos, which had been
first brought into systematic form and obtained authority by means of
Origen ; and, instead of it, to establish on a firm footing, by new logical
grounds and trains of argument, the original doctrine of the union of
the Logos solely with the human body. In the case of Apollinaris,
the interest of Christian faith was combined with the interest of scien-
tific speculation. He was especially intent, like the older Patripassian-
ists, to preserve this point inviolate, and without any curtailment to the
faith,— that God revealed himself to him immediately in the appearance
of Christ, that nothing intervened to shut him out from the immediate
relation to God. This, however, as it seemed to him, was not the case
with the theory introduced by Origen and adopted by the church; for
in this it seemed to him that the immediate manifestation of God in
Christ was not recognized, but only a human spirit was represented as
the organ of the divine manifestation. In the next place, it was his
opinion, that it belonged to the scientific exposition to bring out into
clear consciousness what was contained in the church faith, and to ex-
1 We see here much that is analogous to
the later Monophysitism. See Gregor. Nyss.
orat. IV. f. 589, T. III. 265. His ep. ad
Theophilum.
2 The ἀντιμεϑίστασις τῶν ὀνομάτων, which
afterwards became the occasion of so much
controversy.
8 Gregory of Nazianzen expresses him-
self more temperately. He says we should ©
not attribute to the glorified body of Christ
any properly sensuous qualities, but neither
again a spiritual essence (φύσις ἀσώματος ;)
that it is impossible to determine anything
more than this respecting the nature of
his glorified body, (ϑεοειδεστέρου σώματος.)
Gregor. Naz. orat. 40, f. 641 ;
APOLLINARIS. 429
‘amine, moreover, whether it corresponded to the essence of pure Christ-
ianity ; whether some Jewish or pagan element had not mixed in with
the faith of Christians, as might easily happen, when the faith was pro-
ceeding onward in its unconscious development. It was by a credulity
which did not stop to examine, that Eve suffered herself to be betrayed.
At the basis, then, of this exposition by Apollinaris, lay the principle,
that the end to be sought in a scientific examination of the church sys-
tem of faith was to preserve the purely Christian elements of that faith
from the intermixture of foreign Jewish and pagan elements; and,
where such an intermixture had already taken place, to purge away the
dross. How salutary would have been the effect on the Christian life,
how many errors adulterating pure Christianity would have been pre-
vented from being propagated by church tradition to the following cen-
turies, if this principle of Apollinaris had been received, appropriated,
and consistently applied !
Apollinaris supposed he was able to demonstrate, with mathematical
certainty,? how it was necessary for any one to regard the person
of Christ, if he would consistently recognize him as the God-man.
« Kither,” said he, speaking against the doctrine of the union of the
deity and humanity in Christ conceived after the manner above des-
cribed, “either the man who was taken into union with the divine
Logos, retained his own self-determining free-will; and in this case it
was impossible that any true personal union could take place. The
man endowed with a free-will is but an organ, through which the Logos
acts, in like manner as he-made prophets and holy men serve as organs ©
of his activity.3 Christ differs only in degree from other divinely en-
lightened messengers of God. He is not the God-man, but only a
divine man, just as believers come to be ---- only ἃ man serving as an
organ of the divine will. Or we must suppose, that the human nature
suffered the loss of its free-will in this union with the divine Logos. But,
as this belongs to the essence of human nature, the latter, in losing the
free-will, ceases to be any longer a human nature; and consequently ἢ
nothing more is now to be suid of a union of divinity and humanity.
At the same time, it is not to be conceived that God, the creator of
human nature, would so deprive it of that which constitutes its essence,
and consequently annihilate it.” ®
Apollinaris, therefore,— who took the same liberty of drawing his own
conclusions from the positions of his opponents, and arguing against
them, as his opponents took with
1 The words of Apollinaris are: Μόναν
τὴν εὐσεβὴ πίστιν ἄγαϑον ἣν νομίζεσϑαι,
(against those’ ΠΟ were constantly appeal-
ing only to faith, and repelling all new dog-
matic investigations as hostile to faith.
Against such he would say, that faith, con-
sidered by itself alone, mere believing, was
of no value; but everything depended on
the examination whether that which was
the object of faith, really answered to the
essence of Christian piety.) Μηδὲ yap τῇ
Εῤᾳ συνενέγκειν τὴν ἀνεξετώστον πίστιν,
ὥστε προσῆκειν καὶ τὴν τῶν χριστίανων ἐξε-
regard to his, and so of charging
τασμένην εἶναι, μὴ που λάϑῃ, ταῖς τῶν ‘EAAR-
νων ἢ τῶν ᾿Ιουδαίων συνεμπεσοῦσα δόξαις.
Gregor. Nyss. Antirrhetic. adv. Apollinar.
§ IV. p. 130.
2 Τεωμετρίκαις ἀποδείξεσι καὶ ἀνάγκαις.
8 Σοφία φωτιζοῦσα νοῦν ἀνϑρώπου, αὕτη
δὲ καὶ ἐν πάσιν ἀνϑρώποις. LL. ¢. 215.
4 Οὐχ ὁ ἐπουρανίος ἄνϑρωπος, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπου-
ρανίου ϑεοῦ δοχείον. 1,. ο. 255. "Ανϑρωπος
ἔνϑεος.
δ φϑόρα τοῦ αὐτεξουσίου ζώου τὸ μῆ εἶναι
αὐτεξουσίον" οὐ φϑείρεται δὲ ἡ φύσις ὑπο τοῦ
ποιησάντος αὐτὴν. L. ο. 245.
480 DOCTRINE OF
/
them with all the consequences which seemed necessarily to flow
from their principles judged from his own point of view, — laid it asa
charge against his antagonists, that, like Paul of Samosata and Photinus,
they recognized in Christ, not the God-man, but only the divine man ;!
that they made of Christ two persons, two Sons of God, a Son of God
in the proper sense, and a Son of God in the improper sense.?
The doctrine concerning Christ, as the God-man, Apollinaris held to’
be the properly characteristic and fundamental doctrine of Christianity.
That Christ was a man united with God, and performed miracles in the
exercise of a divine power — he supposed — even Jews and Pagans might
concede, as the Jews said the same thing in fact of Elijah ; but faith in
the God-man was that which constituted the Christian.®
But how, then, did Apollinaris realize to himself, from his own point
of view, the idea of the God-man, which seemed to him so important ?
Two beings persisting in their completeness, he conceived, could
not be united into one whole. Out of the union of the perfect human
nature with the Deity one person never could proceed ;* and more par-
ticularly, the rational soul of the man could not be assumed into union
with the divine Logos so as to form one person. This was the negative
side of the doctrine of Apollinaris ; but, as to its positive side, this was
closely connected with his peculiar views of human nature. He sup-
posed, with many others of his time, that human nature consisted of
three parts, —the rational soul, which constitutes the essence of man’s
nature ;° the animal soul, which is the principle of animal life ;° and
the body, between which and the spirit, that soul is the intermediate
principle. The body, by itself considered, has no faculty of desire ;
but this soul, which is united with it, is the source and fountain of the
desires that struggle against reason. This soul Apollinaris believed he
found described also by the apostle Paul, in the passage where he
speaks of the flesh striving against the spirit.’ The human, mutable
spirit was too weak to subject to itself this resisting soul; hence the
domination of the sinful desires. In order therefore to the redemption
of mankind from the dominion of sin, it was necessary that an immuta-
ble divine Spirit, the Logos himself, should enter into union with these
two parts of human nature. It does not pertain to the essence.of that
lower soul, as it does to the essence of the higher soul, that it should de-
termine itself; but,on the contrary, that it should be determined and
ruled by a higher principle : but the human spirit was too weak for this :
the end and destination of human nature, therefore, is realized when the
1 'Τὸ ἄνϑρωπον ἔνϑεον τὸν Χριστὸν ὀνομά-
ζειν, ἐναντίον εἶναι ταῖς ἀποστολικαῖς διδα-
σκαλίαις, ἀλλότριον δὲ τῶν συνόδων, Παύλον
δὲ καὶ Φωτείνον καὶ Μαρκέλλον τῆς τοιαυτῆς
διαστρόφης κατάρξαι. 135,1]. 6. On his own
principles he understood the words ἄνϑρω-
πος ἔνϑεος and ϑείος as synonymous; since,
according to his theory, a man composed
of spirit and body, in whom God dwelt,
could be none else than a divine man, spe-
cially actuated by the Divine Spirit. It is
deserving of notice, also, how wrongly he
conceived of the doctrine of his contempo-
rary, Marcellus of Ancyra. See above.
“A son φύσει, and a son barely ϑέσει.
See l. c. p. 209, p. 185, 232.
3 Lc. p. 184,
4 A’maxim of Apollinaris: Ei ἀνθρώπῳ
τελείῳ συνήφϑη Gedo τελείος, δύο dv ἧσαν
vioc. Το. 223.
5 Ψυχή λογικὴ, πνεύμα, νοῦς.
6. The ψυχῆ ἄλογος.
ΤΊ, c. Ρ. 188.
APOLLINARIS. 431
Logos, as an immutable divine Spirit, rules over this lower soul, and
thus restores the harmony between the lower and the higher principles
in man’s nature.!
In this way, Apollinaris supposed that he avoided all the difficulties
which attended the other theory, and that he had demonstrated how
the divine and human natures in Christ must be conceived to be united
into personal unity. Christ, like every other man, consisted of three
parts, of spirit, soul, and body; but with this difference, that, in his
case, the place of the weak and mutable human spirit was filled by an
immutable divine Spirit: for this reason, therefore, is Christ also the
God-man ; a name which could not otherwise be ascribed to him. This
difference between Christ and other men, Apollinaris believed might
also be clearly pointed out in his life. All human development is pro-
gressive ; it proceeds from conflict and effort, for the very reason that
the human spirit is a mutable one, which can only seek to subject the
inferior soul to itself by degrees. But we find nothing of this kind in
the case of Christ, who from the first ruled.the inferior soul by his
transcendent, divine Spirit.2 The union of the divine Logos with a
perfect human nature takes place only in the case of individual beliey-
ers, who, by their fellowship with the God-man, are made to partake of
his victory over sin, and his dominion over the inferior soul. With
this theory, Apollinaris believed he possessed the advantage of being
able, without harm to the unaltered properties of all parts of the human
nature which the divine Logos assumed into union with himself, to affirm
the unity of person, and, as evidence of this, the interchange of attri-
butes.4 He was fond of certain expressions, entirely at variance with
the scriptural phraseology, and which began now for the first time to
become current, ‘God died, God was born.” ® “He maintained, that
worship was due to the sensuous nature united with the Logos in one
person ;® a thing which, on the other hand, they who attributed to
Christ a perfect human nature could not maintain, without adding a
fourth essence to the Trinity. He now brought it as a charge against’
his opponents, that they were obliged to suppose a change in Christ’s
body, a deification of it contradictory to its own nature, and to repre-
sent the true union of the divinity and the humanity as being the result
of Christ’s resurrection ;7 of which charge the above-described theory
of Gregory of Nyssa, and other theologians trained in the school of
Origen, especially furnished the occasion. He controverted the theory
of the human omnipresence of Christ ; teaching that Christ, although
1 The νοῦς is, by nature, the αὐτοκίνητον,
the ψυχῆ ἄλογος, the ἑτεροκίνητον. Οὐκ dpa
σώζεται τὸ ἀνσρώπινον γένος δι᾽ ἀναλήψεως
νοῦ καὶ ὅλου ἀνθρώπου, ἄλλα διὰ προσλήψεως
σαρκὸς, ἡ φυσικὸν μὲν τό ἡγεμονεύεσϑαι, ἐδεί-
τὸ δὲ ἀτρέπτου νοῦ, μη ὑποπίπτοντος αὐτῇ
διὰ ἐπιστημοσύνης ἀσϑενείαν, ἀλλὰ συναρ-
μόζοντος αὐτὴν ἀβιαστῶς ἑαυτῷ.
2 The inference of Apollinaris: Οὐδεμία
ἀσκῆσις ἐν Χριστῷ, οὐκ ἀρὰ νοῦς ἐστιν ἀνϑρώ-
πιίνος. L.c. 221.
8 Ἔν τῇ ἑτεροκινήτῳ καὶ ὑπὸ τοῦ ϑείου
νοῦ ἐνεργουμένῃ σώάρκι τελείται τὸ ἔργον, ὁ
ἔστι λύσις ἁμαρτίας, μεταλάμβανει δὲ τῆς
λύσεως ὁ ἐν ἡμῖν αὐτοκίνητος νοῦς, Kad’ ὅσον
οἰκείοι ἑαυτὸν Χριστῷς P. 220. In the case
of Christ, there was only a πρόσληψις σάρ-
koc, — in that of individual believers, an dva-
λήψις ὅλου ἀνθρώπου.
4 The ἀντιμεϑιστάσις τῶν ὀνομάτων.
5 See |. c. 364.
ΘΙ ΘΑ,
7 See ]. c. p. 277, 284.
432 DOCTRINE OF APOLLINARIS.
in respect*to his body he was in heaven, yet, in respect to his divine
essence united with the body, is everywhere with believers.
According to this connection of ideas, it would seem that in the same
manner as the older Patripassianists conceived of the whole being of
God as constituting the animating soul of the human body in which it
dwelt, so also Apollinaris would conceive of the whole being of the
divine Logos as constituting the animating soul in the human nature of.
Jesus. In this case, however, it is difficult to explain how a man of his
sagacity could fail to be struck with the great difficulties attending such
a supposition. Yet, to judge froma single remark of Apollinaris, it
would seem that, in endeavoring to avoid these difficulties and to make
the matter clearly conceivable, he touched, without intending it, upon
the ideas of Beryll of Bostra and of Sabellius, and fell into that view
of the personality of Christ, according to which it was not one commen-
surate with the whole being of the Logos, but formed from a certain
influx or irradiation of the Logos into the human body.*
Apollinaris had no intention to separate himself from the catholic
church, to set up a particular theory at variance with the old church
doctrine, and found a distinct sect; for he was convinced that the
essence of the church doctrine was expressed in a consistent manner
only in his own theory, and that the scheme which had proceeded from
the Origenistic school was self-contradictory. Accordingly he could
with honesty subscribe, through his delegates, the articles which were
established by the aforesaid synod held at Alexandria, A.D. 362, in
opposition to the above-described Arian doctrine concerning Christ’s
human nature. He directed his name to be subscribed to the articles,
by which the hypothesis of a body without soul or spirit (σῶμα ἄψυχον καὶ
ἀνοῆτον ) in Christ was condemned ; for he also did, in fact, suppose a
soul which belonged in connection with the body, and also a spirit
1’Ori καὶ ἐν οὐράνῳ ὄντος τοῦ σώματος,
pew’ ἡμῶν ἐστι μέχρι τῆς συντελείας τοῦ
αἰώνος. C. 59, p. 286.
2 Τὸ is a remark of Apollinaris, which is
to be found in Gregory of Nyssa, ο. 29, and
which appeared to that father himself
somewhat obscure. On the language of
Christ, in the gospel of John, “ My Father
works hitherto, and I work,” he observes,
that Christ here places his own action on
an equality with that of the Father, accord-
ing to the spirit; but that, according to the
flesh, he makes a distinction, (διαίρων μὲν
τὴν ἐνεργείαν κατὰ σώρκα, ἐξίσων δὲ κατὰ
πνεύμα.) Next he goes on to say, that this
expression denotes, on the one hand, the
equality in respect of power; on the other,
the distinction as to the mode of action, in
respect of the flesh, by virtue of which,
John 5: 21, he did not quicken all, but
those whom he willed. (Ὅπερ ἔχει τὴν ἐν
δυνάμει πώλιν ἰσοτῆτα καὶ τὴν κατὰ σάρκα
τῆς ἐνεργείας διαίρεσιν, ka ἣν οὐ πάντας
ἐζωοποιῆσε, ἄλλα τινὰς, οὗς ἐϑελῆσεν.) Yet
here Apollinaris plainly fixes a distinction
between the unlimited, infinite activity of
the Logos, considered by himself, and his
limited activity, affected by the existence in
the flesh. So far as Christ is conscious of
his being one with God, he ascribes to him-
self the power, like the Father, to impart
life to all; so far as his being is conditioned
by the σάρξ, he is conscious of being able to
awaken to life, (which Apollinaris under-
stood without doubt as referring to the res-
urrection of the body,) only in a limited
degree. Thus the Logos does not reveal
himself here in a way that corresponds to
his divine essence, considered by itself, but
in one that corresponds to his form of man-
ifestation conditioned and determined by
the σάρξ, animated by him with a rational
soul. But this point in his system he prob-
ably did not make any clearer to himself.
Had he made clear. to his own conscious-
ness what lay at the bottom of this his theo-
ry, he would have been forced to give up a
great deal which he felt it to be extremely
important to hold fast. The conflicting
elements in his system here come into col-
lision.
488
which directed the soul in Christ.. He believed that all this was first
presented and established by his own theory in a tenable form, and in
a way which corresponded to the idea: of the God-man.!. But when
Apollinaris came out more openly with his doctrine, and supposed that
he had demonstrated in an irrefragable manner what belonged to the
completeness of the conception of the God-man, Athanasius affirmed, in
opposition to him, that the true Christ was incapable of being construed
by human reason.”
The controversy which was carried on against the doctrines of A polli-
naris led: men to think of the necessary connection between the recog-
nition of a perfect, spiritual, and sensuous human nature, and the
doctrine concerning that which constituted a Redeemer and the redemp-
tion, in its more exact relations to a systematic body of divinity.
Athanasius, for example, in his work against Apollinaris, alleges, in
opposition to his doctrines, substantially the following reasons: ‘* How
could Christ represent for us the pattern of the holy life after which we
ought to strive, if his nature was not entirely homogeneous with ours ?
He could not redeem human nature in its completeness, unless he had
himself assumed all the parts of which it consists?’’ He points to those
affections and actions of Christ, which could be conceived only as be-
longing to a human soul ; as, for example, his sorrow and mortal agony,
his praying, his descent to Hades for the redemption of the spirits in
prison. If Apollinaris says that Christ could not assume the human
soul free from sin, without subjecting it to a violence destructive of its
essential nature, such a theory, Athanasius alleged, whereby sin was |
supposed to be a necessary thing in human nature, led to Manicheism.
According to this, sin would be the nature of man, and freedom from
sin stand in contradiction with his nature. But directly the opposite
was the case. Freedom from sin was man’s original nature ; it was
only by reason of the corruption of that original nature, sin had obtained
such dominion over it. Christ elevated it once more to its original free-
dom. There lay here, at the bottom of the controversy between the
two theories, different conceptions with regard to freedom, which some-
what later, amidst the Pelayian disputes, were still more clearly brought
out. Apollinaris understood by freedom, the freedom of choice ; Atha-
nasius understood by it, freedom to goodness, to moral development
undisturbed by anything of a foreign nature. Gregory of Nazianzen
ANTITHESIS TO HIS DOCTRINE.
opposition to the Gnostics, who wholly de-
1 See the explanation of Apollinaris
nied the descensus Christi ad inferos. Apol-
himself, in his letter to the synod at Dioce-
sarea. Leontius Byzantin. c. fraudes Apol-
linaristarum, in Canisii lectiones antique,
T. f. 608, ed Basnage.
2'O ἀληϑινὸς Χριστὸς ody’ ὑπὸ ἀνϑρωπί-
νου λογίσμου διαγραφῆσεται. Adv. Apolli-
naristas, |. I. § 13. =
8 The opinion, however, is assuredly
without any foundation, that the opposition
to Apollinarianism led to the adoption into
the Apostles’ Creed of the article respect-
ing the desizn of Christ’s descensus ad
inferos ; for this must far rather have been
made a prominent point long before this, in
VOL. II.
linaris did not deny this, although his op-
ponents objected to him, that this, as well
as many other doctrines belonging to the
essence of orthodoxy, could not be reconcil-
ed with his theory. We have his own words,
in which he holds forth this doctrine ; if it
be true that it is the same Apollinaris who is
cited in the Catena Nicephori, Lips. 1772,
T. 1.1475. He considered this descensus as
constituting a part of the pain and anguish
of Christ’s death.
4 Ep. ad Cledon. and orat. 51
484 COUNCILS AGAINST APOLLINARIS.
says, in opposition to Apollinaris: ‘Christ must, in his character of
Redeemer, appear in human nature, not barely because he made use
of human nature as a sensible veil, and must bring down the divine
element to man’s apprehension in this sensible veil ; for if so, he might
in truth have chosen any other sensible veil as the organ for its mani-
festation ; but he must assume the human nature, in order to make
make man holy ; consequently he must assume the whole man, consisting
of soul and body.”
Moreover, through public synodal articles, the opposition to.the doc-
trine of Apollinaris was expressed by Western councils subsequent to
the year 376, and by the second general council of Constantinople.
Yet no more new articles of doctrine concerning the divine and human
nature in Christ were publicly established in this controversy.
Remark. — The continuation of the history of the development of
this doctrine follows in the next section.
END OF PART FIFTH OF THE ORIGINAL.
CONTINUATION OF THE FOURTH SECTION.
HISTORY OF THE DOCTRINE CONCERNING THE PERSON OF CHRIST.
From the time of the Apollinarian disputes, the different tendencies
already noticed by us as existing at an earlier period, in the mode of
apprehending the doctrine concerning the person of Christ, proceeded
to unfold themselves to more decided opposition, according as the doc-
trine was set forth either in antithesis to the scheme of Apollinaris, or
to that of Photinus. This difference of doctrinal tendencies was not
grounded merely, however, in a difference of outward and local rela
tions: it had its still deeper ground in an essential difference pervading
the whole dogmatic spirit. ‘Those who were predominantly inclined to
the side of feeling and religious contemplation, made it their chief con-
cern, in opposition to the Photinian views, — which recognized only a
distinction of degree between the Son of God and other enlightened
and holy men, — to bring out distinctly the difference of kind between
the fact of God’s becoming man, and a mere influence of God upon a
man; and to fix the attention upon the incomprehensible and inexpli-
cable side of the mystery. Those, on the other hand, who were more
inclined to seek after clear and well-defined conceptions for the under-
standing, made it their chief object to distinguish and separate in their.
conceptions those elements which, in feelmg and the mere intuitions
of feeling, were apt to be confounded together ;,and thus, in opposi-
tion to Gnostic and Apollinarian modes of apprehension, they were led
to insist upon the abiding distinction of the divine and human natures,
each retaining its own separate individuality. The first of these ten-
dencies we find more particularly represented in the church and school.
of Alexandria; the other, in the church and school of Antioch. This
difference may in part be accounted for by what we have already said,
in the introduction to this section, concerning the general character of
these schools.
The Antiochian school could hardly fail to be led, by its prevailing
historico-grammatical tendency, to give more importance than others
were wont to do, to the human side in the life of Christ. Where an
allegorical or otherwise artificial method of interpretation easily con-
trived means to obscure the plainly manifested human element in the
life of Christ, the principles of interpretation adopted by that church
naturally produced the contrary effect. While other schools adjusted
and interpreted all the appearances brought to view in the gospel nar-
rative, according to a doctrinal conception of Christ already fixed and
established, this school, on the other hand, formed its conception of
Christ from the gospel history. On determining the sense of those
passages where Christ himself speaks of his knowledge as being, in a
certain respect, limited, they could not be so easily satisfied with the
forced explanations to which others had recourse. ‘The simple con-
436 DOCTRINE OF
templation and exposition of the gospel narrative led men, like Diodo-
rus of Tarsus and Theodore of Mopsuestia, to adopt such views of
Christ as did not exclude the idea of a process of development in him
corresponding to the ordinary course of human nature, and like that,
in a certain sense, progressively advancing and making its way through
trials and difficulties. ‘This mode of representation, however, either
was not, or did not continue to be, in the case of Theodore, a mere’
isolated notion, taken up for some immediate purpose; but it formed
a necessary organic member in the well-concocted whole of his dog-
matic system, whose central point was the doctrine concerning Christ.
In order to a right understanding of this, it will be necessary here for
us to go back and consider certain points pertaining to his doctrine of
human nature, which cannot be seen in their proper place and relation
without taking into view the latter.
Theodore supposes two portions or states in the entire history of the
creation: the rational nature, left, at all stages of its existence, to
itself; changeable, and exposed to temptations; — and, on the other
hand, the rational nature, raised, by the communication of a divine life
pervading and transfiguring it, above the limitation of a finite exist-
ence, delivered from all temptations and conflicts, and placed in an
unchangeable state of moral purity. The one portion extends to the
general resurrection, the other follows after it.1 Man, who is the
representation of God’s image for the whole creation, is the medium
of transition from the first of these states to the second. ‘This transi-
tion could be no otherwise brought about, than by the elevation of the
human nature itself to communion with God, and, by means of this, to
a life exalted above change and temptation. This was the end of
Christ’s appearance, by which God’s image first became truly realized
in human nature; man first raised to that dominion over all nature,
for which he was destined at the creation, and made the object of
reverence and worship for all created beings. Now, in order to ac-
complish this, God must take upon him human nature in its peculiar
condition of mutability, and, by means of the conflicts and temptations
which belong to this state, form it for that higher condition which is
the end of all development. Human nature must appear therefore, at
first, even in Christ, as a nature subjected to temptations and conflicts ;
and this presupposes a free-will, in which is implied, though without
~ - ΄ ᾽ Ν x δ x
προσκυνῆται τῆς κτίσεως, ἀλλὰ γὰρ Kal κατὰ
1 Excerpta Marii Mercatoris ed. Garnier.
πάντα φοβερός Te Kal ἀνεπιβουλευτὸς ἡ τοῖς
p- 100. Placuit Deo in duos status dividere
-creaturam ; unum quidem, qui preesens est,
in quo mutabilia omnia fecit; alterum au-
tem, qui futurus est, cum renoyans omnia
ad immutabilitatem transferet.
2 See the fragment of Theodore, in the
book written on purpose to refute him, by
Johannes Philoponus. It contains his com-
mentary on the history of the creation, in
Genesis, 1. VI. c. 10. Ὁ ϑεὸς τὰ τῆς εἰκόνης
ἡμῖν διασῶσαι βουλόμενος, ἄνϑρωπον ἐξ ἡμῶν
ἕνα λώβων, ἀϑάνατον τὲ καὶ ἀτρέπτον ποιῆ-
σας, εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀνήγαγεν ἑαυτῷ συνάψας, iva
ν᾿»
μὴ μόνον εἰς ὕψος τυγχάνων, παρὰ πάσης
ἐναντίοις͵ ἅτε μηδέμιαν παρατροπὴν ἢ ἀλλοί-
wow ὑπομένειν oloote ὦν. According to
this theory, he could explain the 8th Psalm,
it is true, as relating immediately to human
nature in general; but yet maintain that,
in its highest meaning, and in the whole
extent of its contents, it refers to Christ, as
the one in whom all that is said in this
Psalm of human nature, became first fully
realized. See the fragment of his com-
mentary on the 8th Psalm, in Corderii Cat-
ena in Psalmos, f. 166. Comp. Concil
cecum. V. Collat. LV. c. 19.
THEODORE OF MOPSUESTIA. 437
-the presence of sinfulness or of any actual sin, yet the possibility of
sinning.! Without such a free, self-determining will, a true human
nature cannot exist. Conflict by means of free-will appeared, more-
over, to Theodore, the necessary condition of all progress in the devel-
opment of rational creatures. Without this, the bestowment of that
higher state of immutability, to which Christ was to attain by the res-
urrection, and to which through him mankind and the whole world of
spirits was also destined to attain, could appear no otherwise than as
an act of God’s arbitrary will; not, as it is represented in sacred scrip-
ture, the merited reward of a victorious conflict.2_ Now in this way
Theodore might have been led to the doctrine of a deification of the
human nature in Christ, somewhat like the later Socinian view, and
consequently excluding the notion of a true being of God in Christ.
But he was remote from this, so far at least as he expressed himself
with consciousness. He sincerely adopted the doctrine of the church
respecting the divine incarnation. He by no means accommodated
himself, barely in compliance with prevailing authority, to the expres-
sions of the church, meaning to explain them in a different and alien
sense. But he wished to frame to himself, after the analogy of human
nature and his contemplation of the life of Christ, a definite conception
of that which is to be understood by Christ as God-man in his earthly
appearance. The progressive deification of the human nature in Christ
up to the time of his ascension to glory, he contemplated as a conse-
quence and effect of the original and hidden union, — the very end for
which God had appropriated the human nature even from its birth.
But this union, existing from the first and presupposed through the’
whole life of Christ, by virtue of his constantly victorious conflict,
revealed itself in a gradually progressive manner in its effects, as the
orderly process of the development of human nature required. By
virtue of that union, he developed his human faculties, both moral and
intellectual, far more rapidly than other men: hence ‘in his tempta-
tions he was not left to himself, but came off victorious by means of ©
this union, although not without the codperation of his own free-will.
In a measure always proportionate to the bent of his own will mani-
fested in the conflict, was revealed through him the divine power of
the Logos constantly united with him, thus raising him step by step
1 Hence Theodore supposed, in the his- participem (partaking of human feelings and
tory of the temptation, which he considered
as a transaction of the inner sense through
the medium of a visionary appearance and
communication of the evil spirit, an inward
possibility in Christ of being tempted, so
that he victoriously withstood the tempta-
tion by the power of his will. See the
fragment from Theodore’s work against the
emperor-Julian, published by Miinter, frag-
menta patrum Grecorum, fascic. I. “The
end of the temptation, /va καϑαρῶς dvayap-
THTOC ὄφϑη, οὐ TO μὴ πειρασϑῆναι, ἀλλὰ τῷ
φυλάξασϑαι πειράσϑεις ---- ὡς ἄνϑρωπο; ἀλη-
ϑῶς πειραζόμενος.
21Τ,. ο. Concil. V. Collat. ΤΥ. Ita et ani-
mam Christi utpote humanam et sensus
VOL. II, 3t*
affections) prius accipiens et per resurrectio-
nem in immutabilitatem constituens, sic et
nobis eorumdem istorum per resurrectionem
prebuit communionem. Post resurrectio-
nem e mortuis et in ccelos ascensum impas-
sibilis factus et immutabilis. Before his res-
urrection Christ was mutabilis in cogitationi-
bus suis; it was not till after his resurrec-
tion he became immutabilis. In this sense
he explains 1 Tim.: ἐδικαιώϑη ἐν πνεύματι,
referring it to the ἀναμαρτησία first commu-
nicated to him in its strict and proper sense
by the Divine Spirit after the resurrection.
8 Theodore’s fundamental principle. Con-
cil. V. Collat. 1V. c. 49. Gratia data natu
ram non immutat.
488 DOCTRINE OF ‘THEODORE.
to continually higher degrees of glory, till he attained to the highest
and most perfect degree after his resurrection. Thus Theodore could
now apply even to the humanity of Christ, a principle to which he
attached the greatest importance ; namely, that there is no such thing
as unconditional predestination, that this is uniformly conditioned by
the foreknowledge of the bent of the human will.! God ordained the
man Jesus to that supreme dignity which he was to receive in part
from the time of his birth, and to enjoy in its whole extent after the
resurrection, because he foreknew that his will would persevere in its
fidelity through every temptation.
Let us illustrate these statements by citing some of the explanations
of Theodore himself: ‘ Thus we see him,” says he, “‘ before the cross,
hungry and athirst ; afraid, and of many things ignorant: for out of
himself he brought with him the purpose of virtue.? Of this, Isaiah tes-
tifies, when he says, ‘ Before the child understands and distinguishes
good and evil, he resists the evil to choose the good,’ Isaiah 7 : 16.3
That is, before he came to the age at which other men are usually able
to distinguish what ought to be done, he knew how to distinguish good
and evil, because he possessed somewhat beyond that which belongs to
other men ; for if, even among ourselves, we often meet with those who
though children in years yet discover great wisdom, in so much as to
excite the wonder of those that behold them, much more must the man
of whom we speak have surpassed all others at the same period of
life.” * He ascribed, therefore, to our Saviour, at every period of his
earthly life, a knowledge transcending the limits of ordinary human
knowledge, and, in general, a knowledge far exceeding the capabilities
of human nature ; but still no participation in the divine omniscience.
His theory enabled him to take those passages in which Christ declares
himself to be ignorant of the time of the last judgment, in their proper and
natural sense ; --- ἃ view afterwards condemned as heretical under the
name of Agnoétism.2 The words of Luke, that Jesus “ grew, and
1Even the ancients justly observed the
inner connection between the Christology
and the anthropology of the Antiochian
school, and the affinity grounded on this
circumstance between Pelagianism and Nes-
torianism. Vid. Phot. cod. 54, which is an
extract. from an ancient writing against
Pelagianism and Nestorianism, belonging to
the early times of the sixth century, where-
in it is said: Οἵ μὲν (the Pelagians) περὲ
_ τῶν μέλων τοῦ Xpiorov ἀποϑρασύνονται, (they
attribute too much to the man. to the free-
will in believers,) οἱ δὲ περὶ αὐτῆς τῆς τοῦ
σώματος κεφαλῆς, τοῦ Χρίστου τὴν αὐτὴν δια-
volar καὶ τόλμαν ἔχουσι. On the other side,
as, for instance, in the case of Augustin,
his opposite views of anthropology stood
in connection with his opposite christologi-
cal notions. Thus he adduced the mode of
union between the divinity and humanity
in Christ, in proof of the assertion, that the
operations of divine grace could not be
conditioned on the merit of the human will.
Neque enim et ipse ita verbo Dei conjunc-
tus, ut ipsa conjunctione unus Filius Dei et
idem ipse unus filius hominis fieret, praece-
dentibus suz voluntatis meritis fecit. Au-
gustin. de peccatorum meritis et remissione.
L. 11. § 27.
2 He means, on this account Christ had
to pass through these conflicts.
Namely, according to the Alexandrian
version. ‘Theodore did not hesitate, there-
fore to recognize this passage as one that
relates to the Messiah.
* Out of the seventh book of Theodore
on the incarnation cited in Leontius of By- .
zantium. Contra Nestorium et Eutychem,
1. 11. f. 701, T. TX. bibl. patr. Lugd.
5 Ante crucem, (i.e. before he came to
share, by his exaltation to glory, in the attri-
bute of the divine omniscience,) eum igno-
rare reperimus. Bibl. patr. Lugd. T. 9,
f. 701. At the same time, it may seem
strange, that, in a fragment of his commen-
tary on the gospel according to John, he
DOCTRINE OF THEODORE. 439
waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was
upon him,” he explained as meaning that with the progress of time Jesus
grew in wisdom, and in corresponding virtue ; while both were increased
by the favor which he had with God. ‘In all this, he increased both
with God and with men: men saw, indeed, the progress ; but God not
only saw it, but approved it by his testimony, and codperated with him
in his actions. It is also manifest, that he practised every virtue in a
more perfect manner and with greater ease than other men ; because,
from his very conception, God had united him with himself ; ever con-
tinued to bestow on him that larger measure of codperating power which
was requisite in order to the great work of salvation; guided all his
efforts, exciting him to strive continually after higher perfection, and
in many cases relieving and lightening his labors, whether of the body
or of the mind.” 1
Regarding the exaltation of Christ, considered as man, to the divine
immutability by means of his resurrection and ascension to glory, as a
reward of the holy life which he had maintained through every trial,
Theodore inferred that it was not in the power of Christ to send the
Holy Spirit until after this change had taken place. Hence he ex-
plained the symbolical act of our Saviour, and the accompanying words
addressed to the disciples after his resurrection, (John 20 : 22,) as
being simply a prophetical allusion to the communication of the Holy
Spirit, which was not to be actually realized. until afterwards.2 He
supposed also, that as the divine majesty of Christ was not revealed
until after his exaltation to heaven and the transfiguration of his human.
nature, so it was not known among men until after the effusion of the
Holy Spirit. Here was another point in which he did not allow him-
self to be fettered by the common doctrinal and exegetical tradition.
Neither Nathaniel, Peter, nor the Marthas, did by their confessions
of Christ, in which they called him the Son of the living God, intimate
that they believed in his divinity: this would indeed have been very,
remote from that common notion of the Messiah entertained by the
Jews, which was their point of departure.? It was enough for them,
at the outset, to recognize in his appearance something which vastly
transcended what appeared in other men. But, after his resurrection,
they were, by the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit, guided to a
perfect knowledge; so that they recognized what it was that distin-
guished him above all other men ;— what belonged to him, not as in
should say, speaking of the inquiry which
Christ made after the grave of Lazarus: —
“Our Saviour did not ask this question be-
cause he did not know; for how could it be
thus when he had already announced the
fact that Lazarus was dead?” Vid. Corderii
Catena in Joannem, f. 288. Either this
fragment did not come from Theodore,
(who in the Catena is sometimes confounded
with other writers,) or else we must pre-
sume it to have been his meaning, that in
this particular case there was no sufficient
reason for supposing Christ to have been
really ignorant of the fact respecting which
he inquired, inasmuch as the question might
be very well explained, as having been pro-
posed simply with a view of leading to the
further development of his intentions with
regard to Lazarus.
11,. ο. 701.
2 Concil. V. Collat. IV. c. 14. t
8 The testimony of Theodore is impor-
tant here also, as coming from one who was
at home in those countries: Judai et Sa-
marite talia sperantes plurimum, quantum
Dei verbi a scientia longe erant.
440 DOCTRINE OF THEODORE.
the case of others, by dignity conferred from without; but by a peculiar
right, and by virtue of his union with the divine Logos, through which
union he came to participate, after his ascension to heaven, in all equal
honor with the latter.”! Accordingly he explained the exclamation of
Thomas, ‘“‘ My Lord, and my God!’ —as an utterance of surprise ;
since the resurrection of Christ could be no certain evidence of his
divinity .? :
The controversies with the Apollinarians, against whom this school in
Syria had often to contend, led him to unfold this part of his theory
still further. Apollinaris, starting with the position that Christ must be
regarded as perfectly holy from the beginning, that it would be presump-
tion to ascribe to him a progressive development by means of conflict
and trial, inferred that, instead of the changeable human spirit, we must
necessarily suppose him to have been possessed of only an unchangeable
divine spirit. On the other hand, Theodore disputed the position itself,
from which the conclusion of Apollinaris was drawn. He maintained
that it was impossible not to recognize in Christ a progressive develop-
ment by means of conflict and trial, without pronouncing the evangelical
record a fable; and that all this was moreover necessarily required, in
order to complete the work of redemption. But all this seemed to him
perfectly inconceivable without the supposition of a human soul in
Christ. ‘‘ How could Christ,” says he, “‘have experienced fear in the
passion, if Deity took the place in him of the sensitive human soul ?
What need had he, in the approaching anguish, of that fervent prayer
which he addressed to God with a loud voice and many tears? How
came he to be so overwhelmed with fear, that his sweat was as great
drops falling down to the ground?” He referred to the appearance
of the angel, whom Christ needed to strengthen and comfort him.
The angel, he observes, admonished him to endure with constancy, to
overcome the weakness of human nature, and pointed out to him the
benefits to be gained by his sufferings, and the glory which was to
follow.2 He affirmed, in opposition to Apollinaris, that Christ, being
free from sensual desires, had to maintain the conflict rather with
emotions rising up in his soul, than with the desires and pains of the
body # — which, according to Theodore’s views, did by no means neces-
sarily imply the existence of a sinful (peccable) nature in Christ, but
only the mutability and capability of being tempted inseparable from
the essence of the human soul in its present condition. It was indeed
particularly the soul which needed to be healed. From the fact that
Christ achieved and maintained the victory over avarice and ambition,
‘the body as such (whose desires, according to Apollinaris, needed to
1Τ,. c. 25. hominem per virtutem adeptum majorem
2 C. 15, and the explanation of Matth. 8, quam est hominis potestatem. See Facund.
touching the cure of the centurion, which Hermian. 1. III. c. 1V.
shows his exegetical freedom, where he ὃ Extracts from his work against the
says of hin: Neque enim tanquam Dei Apollinarists. Concil. V. Collat. 1V.c. IV.
Filium, et ante omnem creaturam subsisten- Ὁ Plus inquietabatur dominus et certamen
tem, et omnium, qu sunt, opificem, adierat habebat ad animz passiones, quam corpo-
centurio. Hc enim neque discipulorum ris. L.c. 27.
erat tunc scire ante crucem; sed tanquam
DOCTRINE OF THEODORE. 441
be subdued by the power of the Holy Spirit) gained absolutely nothing;
since by such desires in fact the body cannot be subdued. But if it
were not the soul, but only the Deity, which gained this victory, no
advantage could have accrued from all this to us, and the conflict of
our Lord would have been a mere empty show. The words of Christ
to Peter, Matt. 16 : 23, seemed necessarily to presuppose it as possible,
that those words of Peter could have produced some effect on his mind.
It is, says he, as if Christ had said to Peter: I shall suffer death with
better courage, for the sake of the many benefits to which I and,
through me, all shall attain. Pain and disturb not my mind, by
exhorting me to shun death as an ignominious thing.? “‘ What need,”
says he, “had the divinity of the only-begotten Son, of the anointing
by the Holy Ghost, or the power of the Spirit, in order to work mir-
acles? What need had he of the Spirit, in order to learn, in order to
appear without spot or blemish? When it is said, that he was led of
the Spirit into the wilderness, this surely presupposes in general, that
he was guided, ruled, instructed, strengthened in his thoughts by the
Spirit. But if, instead of the soul, the Deity only dwelt within him, the
strength of that was sufficient for everything, and the aid of the Holy
Spirit would have been superfluous.” #
Apollinaris, again, went on the principle, that it was absolutely
inadmissible to compare the essential indwelling of God in Christ with
the mode of the relation in which God stood, in other cases, to enlight-
ened and holy men. He called that peculiar mode of the being of God
in Christ, a substantial, essential indwelling (κατ᾽ οὐσίαν͵ οὐσιῶδες. )ὺ Theo-
dore, on the contrary, endeavored to illustrate the peculiar mode in |
which Christ was united with God, by comparing it with the manner
in which God, in general, was nearer to certain’ reasonable beings
than to other creatures; and here he adopted the fundamental points
of a theory already unfolded by Diodore of Tarsus. In his work on
the incarnation of God, which was directed, as it seems, particularly
against the Apollinarian doctrines, he inquired as to what formulas were Ὁ
best suited to designate that which was of the like kind in this relation
of God to certain rational beings, and at the same time to exclude in
the most certain manner all false, anthropopathic notions. ‘ Are we
to speak of an indwelling of God in his essential nature? But, in his
essential nature, God can nowhere be either included or excluded: as
the omnipresent Being, he stands in the like relation to all. Or shall
we suppose the indwelling presence of God to be a presence, not in his
essence, but in his energy, (not κατ᾽ οὐσίαν, but κατ’ évepyeiav)? But in
case we maintained that God dwells after a special manner in certain
beings by his energy, we could not, at the same time, maintain that
his providence and government, his preserving and directing agency,
extends over all; which, however, we must necessarily affirm if we
1L.c. 27. Et videntur domini certami- 4 Collat. IV. c. VI. VII. XIII. ;
na ostentationis cujusdam gratia fuisse. δ See the fragments of Diodorus in the
in TRE work of Leontius of Byzantium, l. c. f. 700
8 Allusion to Hebrews 9:14 So too he
explained 1 Timothy 3: 16.
442 DOCTRINE OF THEODORE.
acknowledge God to be the Preserver and Governor of all. We must
accordingly find some such formula as is suited, in general, to desig-
nate the peculiar relation of moral fellowship and communion in which
God stands with those rational beings who are fitted for it by the
temper of their minds, in contradistinction from others who by their
sins exclude themselves from such communion. And that formula is
as follows : — God is peculiarly near to such by virtue of his compla-
cency in them; by virtue of his disposition towards them; by virtue
of the direction of his will; by his favor, inasmuch as he has. adopted
them as his children.” Theodore compared also Christ’s baptism with
the baptism of believers, as that which was prefigured by his own;
affirming that, from this moment, the effects of that special union with
God became manifest in him; but with this difference, that to him
was imparted the entire fulness of the Divine Spirit, while believers
received through him only partial influences of the same Spirit.2
Here, as in many other places, Theodore seems to assert, that to the
Saviour, something new, which had not been in him before, was impart-
ed to him from without; a view, however, which is at variance with the
opinion he elsewhere expressed respecting an original union of the
divine Logos with the man Jesus ; unless perhaps he meant to say, that
this communication of the fulness of the divine Spirit, seeming to
come to him from without, was but an effect resulting from his hidden
union with the divine Logos.
Although Theodore after this manner compared the bemg of God in
Christ with the being of God in sanctified and enlightened men, yet it
was by no means his purpose to establish here a perfect sameness of
kind in all respects, but only to place in a prominent light the sameness
of kind in a certain respect; in so far as the relation of God to rational
beings standing in spiritual communion with him, must and should be
distinguished from the relation of God to the rest of creation. He
affirmed, at the same time, that along with this generic identity there
still existed, in the same identical relation in this one respect, a great
specific diversity. And here regard should be had to the different
modes and ways in which God stands related to good men generally,
to prophets, to apostles, and last of all to the Son.? These accessory
distinctions served to designate the different ways in which God dwells
within whatever is generically like him. ‘ Never,” says Theodore,
‘* shall we have the folly to assert, that the mode in which God dwells
in Christ is no other than that in which he dwells in prophets or apos-
1165. After these distinctions, the expression Son of God, in the sense
‘ of Theodore, would denote ‘‘such a not merely partial but complete
1 Κατ’ εὐδοκίαν, in allusion to the divine
voice at the baptism of Christ, Luke 3: 22.
Kara διαϑέσιν, κατὰ ϑελῆσιν, κατὰ χάριν,
kaw υἱοϑεσίαν, |. c. f. 700, which in the
Latin is in general translated adoptio.
Hence the controversy, at a later period,
about adoptionism. He moreover referred
to the mode in which elsewhere the names
God and the Son of God are used meto-
nymically. Adoptio in baptismo secundum
comparationem judaice adoptionis, where
he referred to Is. I. 2, ψ. 82, 6.
2 See l. 6. fol. 701, col. 1.
8 Where, namely, this expression, “ Son of
God,” was taken in the highest sense; for -
Theodore in this respect also did admit that
there might be a different application of the
term, where nothing more was to be denot-
ed by it than simply the union with God
generally. See the preceding note
DOCTRINE OF THEODORE. 443
‘union between the being who is by his nature and his essence the Son
of God, namely, the Logos, and a man, as that, by virtue of this union,
the latter would be made to share in all the honor, glory, and dominion
belonging to himself.’’4
Again, whilst Apollinaris affirmed that two beings, both abiding in
their own complete and individual natures, could never be so united as
to constitute one,— one person ; it was the great purpose of Theodore to
show in what way we are to conceive, that deity and humanity, while
abiding each in its own peculiar essence in Christ, were still bound
together by a certain relation in one personal fellowship and unity.
Jesus, as the instrument employed by the deity for the purpose of ex-
tending abroad his saving influences to all men who are fitted to receive
them, was the temple in which God dwelt, and in so far a divinely human
person. If we look at the distinction of the deity and the humanity —
said he —there we must distinguish from each other two natures, abid-
ing without disturbance, each in its own purity and completeness, — and
accordingly, since both the conceptions are strictly connected, two per-
sons (ὑποστάσεις, mpoowna. ) But if we look at their union in the above-
mentioned relation, we must speak of Christ as a person, in whom, as
one, the human nature has been taken up into fellowship with the
divine.2 This he illustrates by comparing it with the case in which man
and wife are, in a certain relation, called one body, Ephes. 5. Thus,
Theodore contradicted what constituted the prevailing doctrine, not only
in the Alexandrian church, but also in other churches.? It may be said,
indeed, that the church phraseology relating to the distinction between .
the terms ὑπόστασις, προσώπον, and φύσις, was not as yet duly settled ; but
the reason why Theodore deemed it necessary to syppose that, in a cer-
tain respect, two hypostases were united in Christ, lay still deeper than
in this unsettled character of the church phraseology: it was con-
nected with the whole peculiarity of his mode of apprehension.
As we already remarked in describing the doctrine of Apollinaris, _
the latter employed the interchangeableness of the predicates belonging
to the two natures (the ἀντιμεϑίστασις τῶν ὀνομάτων.) as a character to de-
fine the unity of the God-man. But Theodore contended against this
unconditional transfer itself, as bringing along with it a perfect entangle-
ment and confusion of conceptions. He was himself also for allowing,
indeed, of a certain transfer of predicates, to mark the union of the
deity and humanity in Christ; but this only when the different rela-
tion of the same predicate was expressly defined, according as they
were employed to denote either the being who, in his essence, is the
Son of God, or the man who, through the divine favor, was exalted to
Sonship with God by being taken into union with the essential Son of
God. Accordingly he said, the virgin Mary might, in different senses, be
11,. c. 700, col. 2. 8 As the Cappadocian church-teachers
21. c. Concil. V. Collat. TV. 29. Quando had declared in the Apollinarian controver-
naturas discernimus, perfectam naturam sy, that, in respect to the difference of the
Dei verbi dicimus et perfectam personam, deity and humanity in Christ, we may say
nec enim sine persona est subsistantiam indeed, ἄλλο καὶ ἄλλο, but not ἄλλος καὶ
dicere perfectam, perfectam autem et homi- ἄλλος.
nis naturam et personam similiter. 4 Concil. V.1.¢. 8
444 THE ALEXANDRIAN TENDENCY
called ϑεότοκος and ἀνϑρωπότοκος; ---- the latter, in accordance with the na
ture of the fact,—the former, in view of a certain relation, and in so far
as God dwelt, after the manner described, in the man who was born
of her.1
The‘ opposite tendency as to the mode of apprehending and develop-
ing this doctrine, we find in the Alexandrian church. Owing to the
mystical contemplative bent which predominated in that church, the
chief endeavor there was, to set prominently forth the mystery, the in-
comprehensible, transcendent, and inexplicable fact of the union of the
deity and humanity, by the very forms of phraseology chosen to express
this doctrine; and to oppose every attempt at explanation. The
ἕνωσις τῶν φυσέων ἄφραστος, ἀπερινοῆτος, ἀῤῥῆτος, and. ὑπὲρ λόγον ---- * the ineffable,
incomprehensible, transcendent union of natures,’’— such was the watch-
word of the Alexandrian church doctrine. Since the church-teachers
of this tendency, of whom we may regard the bishop Cyrill of Alexan-
dria as the representative, sought. by their doctrinal formulas to give
particular prominence to the mystery of the appearance and existence
of one Christ in the united deity and humanity, they were very ready
ta transfer the human predicates to the divine. essence, and the divine
to the human. They were fond of such paradoxical expressions as
“‘ God has suffered for us ;— Mary is the Mother of God, (ἡ ϑεότοκος 3)
Mary bore in the body the Word which was made flesh.”? Because they
used such expressions, however, they ought by no means to be charged
with holding notions whereby the divine and human natures were con-
founded, and transformed into each other. They guarded expressly
against being so misunderstood, by always holding distinctly apart the
divine and the human predicates (τὰ ἀνϑρώπινα and τὰ ϑεοπρέπη 3) also by
acknowledging the independence of both in their union, and by explain-
ing, that the predicates of both kinds were to be attributed to the one
Word who became man, but in different senses ;—— the one, with refer-
ence to his deity; the other, with reference to the humanity which he
assumed. Only we ought no. longer to distinguish, in the actual case,
two natures, to which these different. attributes belonged; but ascribe
both classes of attributes alike, though not in the same sense, to one and
the same Logos who became man. One and the same Son of God
miraculously consists of two natures mysteriously united.? Since, more-
over, the Egyptian theologians, strangers as they were to all intentional
Docetism, received all the phenomena which they found presented in
the gospel history into their conception of Christ ; since, accordingly,
they referred to him the expressions of anguish at the approach of
‘death, and also his asseverations of ignorance with respect to many
things, regarding these as the marks of humanity, they could agree, on
this side, in individual results, with the other party ; but the differ-
ence between the two dogmatic tendencies manifested itself in their
peculiar way of explaining these facts. _
The Egyptian scheme of doctrine placed in this the incomprehensible
1 Leontius, 1. c. 703, col. I.
2 Ἕις καὶ ὁ αὐτὸς υἷος ἐκ δυοῖν πραγμάτων εἰς ἕν τὶ ἐξ ἀμφοῖν ἀποῤῥήτως ἐκπεφηνώς
COMPARED WITH THE ANTIOCHIAN. 445
mystery, —that divine omniscience and human ignorance ; human
suffering, human sensibility, and divine exemption from suffering ; and,
in general, divine and human attributes coéxisted in one and the same
Christ. The suprarational, supernatural side (ὑπὲρ λόγον, ὑπὲρ φύσι») was
precisely the one which they were for chiefly insisting upon. The
Antiochian theologians, on the other hand, presumed indeed in no wise
to derive and explain the existence and appearance of Christ from the or-
dinary course of the development of human nature. They acknowledged
here, in common with the Alexandrians, such a communication of God
as could only be an object of faith ; but yet they did not confine them-
selves within the same narrow limits which the latter had set up, in
their endeavors to bring these phenomena under distinct and definite con-
ceptions of the understanding. Comparing the life of Christ, as it
appeared in its manifestation, with the course of development of human
nature generally, and with the great end of Christ’s appearance on
earth, they sought to point out what was in harmony with nature in
the revelation of the supernatural; to trace, in connection with the
ὑπὲρ λόγον, also the κατὰ λόγον. Along with this difference went another ;
namely, that the Antiochian theologians endeavored to find something
analogous to the union of God with man in Christ, in the relation of
God to rational beings generally; to find a point of comparison between
the being of God in Christ, and the being of God in believers ; while,
on the other hand, the Alexandrian theologians endeavored to give dis-
tinctness and prominence to those points alone in which the union of
God and humanity in Christ differed entirely from every other kind of |
union into which God enters with man, and looked upon all those com-
parisons and analogies as tantamount to a denial of the divine dignity
of the Redeemer ; as tending to obscure, or even tofally to subvert, the
doctrine of the God-man. He who affirmed that God used the man
Jesus as an instrument, that He dwelt in him as in a temple, seemed
to them to acknowledge no other being of God in Christ, than might be
affirmed in the case of all enlightened and sanctified men, — such, for ©
example, as Moses and the prophets ;— and so also, he who spoke of
ἃ. συναφεία κατὰ χάριν, κατ᾽ εὐδοκίαν, etc. ‘They did not consider, that these
several expressions might be used in a quite different sense from their
own ; and so they really were used by the theologians of the other
party. The Alexandrians, it is true, had in their favor, so far as it
concerned the last-mentioned formula, the prevailing doctrinal termin-
ology. The peculiar doctrinal terminology of the Antiochian school
was in this case closely connected, however, with the whole of their
system,— particularly with its peculiar doctrine of man ; but for this
very reason they could, in fairness and justice, be judged only by
reference to their own connection of ideas, and the relation of their
doctrinal language to their doctrinal conceptions. So that theory of a
ovvageia κατὰ χάριν, OF κατ᾽ εὐδοκίαν, Kar’ αὐϑεντίαν, κατ’ ἀξίαν ----- all which expres-
sions, taken in their own (the Alexandrians’) sense, could denote
nothing else than a certain spiritual, moral fellowship, at highest a
deification of human nature,—to this theory the Alexandrians had
nothing to oppose, but the assertion of a ἕνωσις φυσίκη, κατ᾽ οὐσίαν, οὐσιώδης,
VOL. I. 38
446 NESTORIUS, PATRIARCH
as they would recognize in the Christ who appeared, only the one na-
ture of the incarnate Word, or the one incarnate nature of the Word,
(μία φύσις τοῦ λόγου σεσαρκώμενου, ΟΥ̓ μία φύσις"-- σεσαρκώμενη.) But the Antioch-
ians, who likewise proceeded only on the groundwork of their own con-
nection of ideas and their own dogmatic terminology, could under these
latter definitions conceive of nothing else than a confusion and trans-
formation of the two natures, resulting in a third.
It is manifest, then, from what has been said, how easily the two
positions might be held in direct opposition to each other ; — how easily
those at the one might see dangerous heresies in the assertions which
proceeded from those at the other. Had men traced back to its deepest
ground the difference at bottom, in the relation of the two dogmatic
tendencies to each other, they would have come to perceive and to
make themselves conscious, that there existed here a radical difference
in the mode of apprehending the relation between the natural and
the divine —the relation between reason and revelation; as, in fact,
appears evident in the relation of the ὑπὲρ λόγον to the κατὰ λόγον. But
to such clearness of insight, the consciousness of dogmatic oppositions
did not, in this period, easily unfold itself. Men were rather disposed
to remain fast by the accidental expression or utterance of oppositions
in their outward form of manifestation, just where they laid strongest
hold on the church interest, without seeking to make themselves clearly
conscious of the under-lying root of the antagonism. Besides this, the
contest here between the two opposite types of doctrine sprung out of
the use of a single term, to which, just then, the church interest
attached peculiar importance ; and, owing to the manner in which the
controversy arose, it so happened that the dogmatic development was
from the outset disturbed by the intrusion of profane, personal feelings ;
and the evolution of the great points of opposition which lay at the root
of the disputes on particular questions, was hindered by the confound-
ing of matters belonging to Christian life, with those belonging to the
development of dogmatic conceptions, as well as by the interference of
outward secular power.
The circumstances which led to the outbreak of the controversy,
were as follows: Nestorius, a presbyter of the church at Antioch,
esteemed and celebrated on account of the rigid austerity of his life
and the impressive fervor of his preaching, had, in the year 428, been
made patriarch of Constantinople. Educated in the convent, he had
brought with him the virtues and the faults usually connected with
Monasticism. With an honest and pious zeal he failed to unite pru-
dence and moderation: his zeal was readily alloyed with passion: he
was apt to see dangerous heresies in anything remote from the dogmatic
phraseology to which he was accustomed. He did not always know how
to unite the spirit of love and forbearance with zeal for the truth of
which he was assured. As it was often the case with those who left
the discipline of the cloister to act a part on the great stage of public
life, that, by the constraint and awkwardness of their movements, they
gave frequent occasion of offence ; so it happened with Nestorius, when
suddenly transferred from a quiet scene of activity mto the most per.
OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 447
plexing relations, near a corrupt court, where every species of intrigue
and passion was busily at work, and into the midst of a clergy who
were governed, many of them, rather by worldly than spiritual motives.
Here he became an object of jealousy to many foreign ecclesiastics who
were residing near the court, and who had aspired after the patriarchal
dignity, as well as to the patriarch of Alexandria, who would fain be
the primate of the Oriental church. Amidst such relations, Nestorius,
in order to sustain himself, and to exert a healthful influence, needed
to unite to firmness of character, Christian prudence, moderation, and
wisdom ; but in these very virtues, he was lamentably deficient.
He wished to make the first trial of his patriarchal power in suppress-
ing the various descriptions of heretics, who, in spite of all the laws
against them, had continued to spread in the capital of the East, and in its
subordinate dioceses.! Spiritual pride, no less than a blind persecut-
ing zeal, spoke forth in those words of his inaugural discourse addressed
to the emperor: ““ Give me a country purged of all heretics, and, in ex-
change for it, I will give you heaven. Help me to subdue the heretics,
and I will help you to conquer the Persians.” There was no lack,
indeed, of those who were delighted with this zeal of their new patri-
arch for the purity of the faith; but neither were there wantmg men
of more prudent views, to whom a beginning of this sort augured unfa-
vorably. Correspondent to this beginning, was the direction which the
active labors of the new patriarch first took, when, without any discrim-
ination of essentials or nonessentials in doctrinal disputes, he pro-
ceeded to persecute, with like zeal, Arians, Novatians, and Quarto-.
decimanians. Much violent excitement of feeling, ending in the effusion
of blood, was thus occasioned by him. But it was not long before his
polemic zeal brought down the charge of heresy upon himself.
Nestorius, if he was not himself a disciple of Theodore of Mopsuestia,
yet belonged, as his doctrine concerning the person of Christ evinces,
among the disciples of the Antiochian doctrine ; and, being devoted to.
this, he might be very quick to discern important heresies in everything
that conflicted with the leading conceptions of his own scheme. On this
side, he could not fail to be frequently scandalized under the new cir-
cumstances in which he was placed; for here he encountered many
phrases in the prevailing language of the church which seemed altogether
repugnant to the Antiochian system of doctrine. To this class belonged
particularly the title Θεότοκος as applied to the virgin Mary ; a title to
which the prevailing veneration of Mary attached peculiar importance ;
and this excessive veneration of Mary itself, which such a title served
to encourage, might also contribute, with other causes, to make its use
appear dangerous to Nestorius, who had received, in the Antiochian
school, a purer direction of the Christian spirit.”
1 The church-historian, Socrates, who
must be our principal authority in depicting
the character of Nestorius, and who is the
least prejudiced of any who have described
him, might indeed be led astray in his judg-
ment of him, through partiality for the
Novatians, whom Nestorius persecuted ; but,
on the other hand, he appears free, in his
judgments, from the fanaticism of his times
as is evident in those remarks which tend
to the disparagement of Nestorius.
2 Socrates is, in one respect, more just
towards Nestorius than the great body of
his contemporaries, and the dominant party
448 NESTORIUS OPPOSED
As it was not customary in those times to separate what belonged to
scholastic divinity from the topics more appropriate to the sermon, it
was natural that Nestorius, whose rhetorical manner, modelled after the
Antiochian taste, was peculiarly grateful to many of the Constantino-
politans, and whose sermons were received with loud exclamations of
applause and clapping of hands,! should soon feel impelled to introduce
into them a doctrinal theme which appeared to him so important. It
may perhaps, however, be ascribed to his prudence, that he did not at
once enter the lists against a term which stood in such high veneration ;
but contented himself to teach in general the doctrine concerning the
union of the two natures in Christ, according to the system of Theo-
dore of Mopsuestia.2 When Nestorius expounded the Antiochian sys-
tem of doctrine in his discourses, others of less considerate zeal, who
were attached to his person, might feel themselves called upon to com-
mence the attack upon the name ϑεύτοκος now commonly applied to the
virgin Mary. His presbyter Anastasius, who had come with him from
Antioch, and enjoyed his particular confidence, was, on a certain occa-
sion,® prompted to exclaim in one of his discourses: ‘ Let no man call
Mary the mother of God ; for she was human, and God cannot be born
of man.’ 4
in the church, during several of the follow-
ing centuries, in that he defends him against
the charge of Photinianism and of Samosa-
tenianism. But in another respect he does
him injustice, adopting the false view of
these controversies which came to be en-
tertained at a later period, after Nestorius
had been factiously stigmatized as a here-
tic, and charging him with having fostered
the controversy about a mere word, from
want of accurate knowledge of the lan-
guage and literature of the ancient church,
from obstinacy and from vanity. He was
afraid of the word ϑεότοκος as of a ghost,
(ὡς τὰ μορμολυκία.) From the remarks al-
ready made respecting the general dog-
inatic antagonism out of which this contro-
versy arose, it is evident, that although the
dispute here was about a word, yet it was
by no means a mere verbal dispute; but a
far deeper and more general opposition of
views was the real source of the controver-
sy. If it had so happened, however, that
this particular term had not been drawn
into the dispute, the controversy doubtless
would not have proved at once so violent
‘and acrimonious.
1 As appears evident from various allu-
sions in his sermons. See e.g. Sermo II.
in the works of Marius Mercator, T. II.
near the beginning.
2 That this preceded the public outbreak
of the controversy, is apparent from what
Nestorius himself says, in a sermon deliv-
ered after the controversy had begun:
Μεμνήῆσϑε δέ mov πώντος καὶ τὰ πολλακίς
uot πρὸς ὑμᾶς εἰρημένα, τὰς δίπλας πρὸς τὸν
δεσπότην Χρίστον διάκρίνοντι φύσεις. Τ,. α.
This onset, though it sprang out of a well-meant pious zeal,
p- 9, init. The Quartodecimanians in Asia
Minor, who were induced, by his influence,
to join themselves to the catholic church,
were persuaded by him also to subscribe
the creed which he had brought with him
from the Antiochian church, which Theo-
dore of Mopsuestia had drawn up for the
use of catechumens and converted heretics,
and in which his peculiar system of doc-
trines was clearly unfolded. See Concil.
Ephes. act. VI. f. 1515, T. 1. Harduin.
3 Socrat. 7, 82.
*It is nothing strange, that the reports
differ as to the immediate occasion of the
disputes. Various circumstances, following
one after the other, may have codperated to
kindle the flame; and then the question
comes up, which was the first. The report
of Socrates seems on the whole to present
the order of events in their most natural
connection. According to the account of
Theophanes, in his Chronography, Nestori-
us himself first brought on the dispute, by
a sermon composed by himself, (the same
which Socrates ascribes to Anastasius,)
which he placed in the hands of his Syncel,
(episcopal secretary,) directing him to read
it in the church. This secretary, according
to Theophanes, was not Anastasius. Sup-
posing the fact to havé been so, we may
conclude that this sermon was the first in
the series of those which have been pre-
served by Marius Mercator; for in this
discourse something resembling the expres-
sions quoted in the text is unquestionably
to be found. But still this amounts to no
proof; for, in sermons which continually
refer to this subject, many things would
TO THE TERM, MOTHER OF GOD. 449
was still extremely ill-timed and unwise. The term which he attacked
had on its side the authority of ancient use, not only in the Egyptian
church, but also in other respectable churches: many eminent church-
teachers had already employed it, without associating with its use the
errors aimed at by Anastasius. But by the way in which he attacked
it, he would necessarily expose himself, according to the then prevailing
method of doctrinal strife, to the reproach of having denied the true
deity of Christ, of having taught that Jesus was born of Mary as a
mere man, and then, in some after period, visited — like other prophets
and divine messengers, whom he differed from only in degree — with the
influences of the Holy Spirit.
Furthermore, it is said, that a bishop of Marcianopolis in Meesia,}
who was just then on a visit to Constantinople, publicly exclaimed in
the church, either while addressing an assembly of bishops in the sacra-
rium, or more probably in a sermon: ‘ Let him be accursed who calls
Mary tlie mother of God.’ But Cyrill wrongly infers, because Nesto-
rius did not contradict this declaration, and because he afterwards
admitted this bishop to the communion, that he approved of what he
had said. Nestorius might certainly acknowledge the bishop as an
orthodox man, and respect his zeal for pure doctrine, though he may
not have approved the way in which he chose to express it.
After this public declaration, the question whether Mary ought to be
called the mother of God was much agitated, not only among the clergy
at Constantinople, but among the laity, who were so addicted to
doctrinal discussions :2 and the disputes were carried on with heat and
violence on both sides. Nestorius thought it his duty to take an active
part in these disputes, and to defend the cause of his friend, who was
stigmatized as a heretic. He often brought up this subject in his ser-
mons. In the first of these, he began with setting forth the evidences
of a providence consulting for the wants of mankind in the kingdom of
nature, which evidences he drew from the marks of benevolent adapta-
tion; but with a very superficial conception of the principle, the whole .
being referred merely to the gratification of sensuous wants. Then, by
a quite disproportionate leap, he proceeded next to consider the greatest
gift which God has bestowed on mankind, in the appearance of Christ,
whose end was to restore the fallen image of God. The restoration of
mankind was to be brought about by the instrumentality of a man, in
proof of which he adduced 1 Corinth. 15:12. On this last proposi-
tion he evidently intended to lay great stress, with a view to the imme-
diate application of it against those who were unwilling to call Mary
the mother of a man, but who insisted that she was the mother of God.
naturally be repeated. Socrates is here lates may well be supposed to have taken
certainly a more important authority than
Theophanes, who wrote four centuries later.
1 Cyrill of Alexandria, the fierce antago-
nist of Nestorius, and whose testimony
therefore cannot be wholly relied on, reports
this in several public declarations ; 6. σ᾿. ep.
6. But the truth of this assertion is con-
tradicted on no side; and what Cyrill re-
VOL. II. 38"
place through the blind zeal of a bishop of
this party.
2 According to the narrative of Theo-
phanes, it was an advocate (σχολάστικος) of
Constantinople, who first came out publicly
in the church, against a sermon in which
the epithet ϑεότοκος was attacked.
450 NESTORIUS. DISPUTES AMONG THE LAITY.
Unjustly charging such with his own inferences from their doctrine, he
put them in the same class with Pagans, who gave mothers to their
gods. Him who was born of Mary he,on the other hand, calls the
instrument of the Deity, the temple prepared through Mary by the
Holy Spirit, in which the divine Logos dwelt. Everywhere in these
discourses, he adheres strictly to the formulas of the Antiochian school.
He teaches that there were two natures, deity and humanity, united
together after the most intimate manner ; but from the first, in connec-
tion with’ the duality of natures, there was but one dignity ; ;1— the
human nature being, in this respect, exalted, by virtue of that intimate
union, to a participation in the dignity of the divine. Hence one
Christ, one Son of God, inasmuch as the humanity had been taken up
into union with the one eternal Son of God. He spoke, as we might
anticipate from the above remarks, with great heat and injustice against
the antagonists of the Antiochian scheme of doctrine, whom he called
sophistical dogmatists of the new school.2 He places the doctrine of a
most intimate union between humanity and deity over against the
doctrine of a deification of human nature, of which he accuses his op-
ponents.®
This controversy excited so much interest even among the laity, that,
on a certain occasion, when Nestorius was inveighing against the doc-
trine which represented Mary as the mother of God, and contrasting
the eternal generation of the Logos with the temporal nativity of
the man whom the Logos assumed as his instrument, an individual of
rank, no longer able to restrain himself, cried out ‘No; the eternal
Logos himself condescended also to the second birth.”” Immediately a
violent commotion arose among the assembled multitude, one party
taking the side of the patriarch; the other, that of his opponent.*
Nestorius did not allow himself to be embarrassed - ‘by this incident.
He once more resumed his discourse, praised the zeal of his friends,
and, having refuted the sudden opponent whom he called a poor miser-
able trifler,® proceeded on with the discussion after his usual manner.
Already had Nestorius incurred, in the opinion of many, the
charge of Photinianism,® when a man who, on account of his personal
relations, might well be suspected of being governed by unholy passions
and motives, took advantage of the popular feeling now rising against
the patriarch, and labored to excite it still more ;—-coming out pub-
licly, though without naming him, as his opponent, and in a way which
was well suited to produce in the minds of many an unfavorable
impression against Nestorius. This person was Proclus, who had
been offered as a bishop to the church at Cyzicus, but had not been
received as such. He had ever since resided in the EHastern capital,
and, at an earlier period, sought to obtain the vacant patriarchate at
1 Αξία, αὐϑεντία μοναδίκη. considered it unworthy of refutation, be-
2 Τοὺς σοφοὺς τῶν δογματίστων τῶν vew- cause they could not touch his doctrine in
τέρων. that way. Ego autem quibusdam mihi et
δ *Axpa ovvadeia, οὐκ ἀποϑέωσις. illud renuntiantibus, cum letitia sepius
* Opp. Marii Mercator. T. II. f. 13. risi, quoniam,.inquiunt, episcopus, qua
δ Τῆς τοῦ δειλαίου μιαρίας ὁ ἐλέγχος. Photini sunt, sapit.
6 He had heard of this accusation, but
HIS SERMONS IN REPLY TO PROCLUS. 451
‘Constantinople, with some hopes of success. On the Christmas festival
of the year 429, or on the festival of the Annunciation (ἥμερα ebayyedio-
ov) on the 25th of March,! he preached a discourse, full of rhetorical
display and exaggeration, in which, extolling the virgin Mary as the
mother of the incarnate Logos, he attacked those who refused to acknow-
ledge her as such, without calling their names, and noticed in particular
the objections which had been offered by Nestorius in the first sermon
above mentioned. As, by his hints and allusions, he gave it to be
understood that his opponents believed only in a deified man, instead
of believing in a humanized Logos; as he held them up to view as
‘enemies to the honor of Mary; all this could not fail with many to
operate very unfavorably for the party of Nestorius. The tinkling
chime of high-wrought phrases, and the cause which he defended, the
honor of Mary, procured for the sermon — though, from the peculiar
character of the style, it must have been unintelligible to many —
immense approbation, as was testified by the loud applause with which,
according to the usual practice, it was received. All this having
transpired in the presence of Nestorius, and himself understanding
full well all the allusions in the discourse, he felt himself called upon
to defend his doctrine against these reproaches; and hence on the
spot he addressed a short discourse to the church, such as the moment
suggested to him, and in which therefore the good temper he showed,
in refraining from all personal attack on his opponent, deserves to be
more particularly remarked. He began with great prudence, declaring
that it was perfectly natural that they should receive with so great.
approbation what had been said to the honor of Mary; “but,” he
added, ‘‘ we must take heed, lest, in doing honor above measure to the
virgin Mary, we run the hazard of detracting from the dignity of
the divine Logos.’ With allusion to the swollen language of Proclus,
so ill suited to the understanding of the people, he said he would
endeavor to speak with plainness, so as to be understood by all. He
concluded by exhorting them not to express their approbation at once —
by clapping, not to suffer themselves to be carried away by the charm
of oratory, but to examine with care into the doctrine, and refrain from
condemning what was true, merely because it was new to them.
Immediately after this, he preached several discourses, in which he
expounded the questions still further with special reference to the
objections of Proclus. He was aware how much foresight he needed
to use, so as to give no offence where there was such an enthusiastic
veneration of Mary. He was ready to respect this feeling, yet without
yielding anything from the truth.
1 All that Proclus says, in this homily, is
unquestionably suited to the second festival,
concerning the celebration of which in this
church during the present period, we have,
however, no other account besides this. As
elsewhere, in the homilies of the Greek
fathers, many things connected with the na-
tivity and childhood of Christ are taken
together, so this discourse might be under-
stood also as having reference to the Christ-
He declared that, in case any of
mas festival; and possibly Proclus, for the
express purpose of doing honor to Mary,
may have converted this festival itself into
a παρϑενικὴ πανήγυρις. What he says about
the great multitude who had come by land
and by water, to attend the celebration of
this festival, would rather lead us to con-
clude that it was the great Christian festival
of Christmas.
452 NESTORIUS. HIS EXPLANATIONS.
the simpler minded were disposed to call the virgin Mary the mother
of God, (ϑεότοκος,) he had no particular aversion to the term, provided
they did not convert Mary into a goddess.? Adopting the middle
course between the two extremes, instead of using the phrases Mary
the mother of God, or the mother of the man, (ϑεότοκος or ἀνϑρωπότοκος,)
he employed the term mother of Christ, (χριστότοκος,) inasmuch as the
name Christ belonged to the whole person, uniting the divine and the
human natures. His endeavor to keep close to the holy scriptures
appears worthy of all respect. He very justly offers it as an argument
against the use of that term, that the holy scriptures nowhere teach
that God, but everywhere that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the
Lord, was born of Mary. ‘ This we all acknowledge; for unhappy is
his case who receives not what the scriptures teach.”’ His pains-taking
conscientiousness in refusing to yield anything from the truth may be
seen in the following example. He had said, “1 do not grudge that
epithet to the mother of Christ. I know that she is worthy of all
honor, whom God assumed into himself, through whom the Lord of the
universe passed, through whom the Sun of righteousness shone.”’ These
words, which favored the worship of the virgin, and seemed coincident
with the prevailing notions, were received with claps of approbation.
This made Nestorius fearful lest his language might have been so
understood as to conflict with the scheme of doctrine which he had
ever taught; and therefore he immediately added: ‘ Your applause
makes me suspicious.” How have you understood my declaration —
through whom the Lord of the universe passed? In that I said not
the same as if I had used the words, ‘ He was born of her.’ For I do
not so soon forget my own language,” &c.3
Meanwhile everything at Constantinople was tending towards a
schism of the church. One party of the clergy and monks, affecting to
regard him as a heretic, a follower of the doctrines of Paul of Samo-
sata, would no longer recognize him as their bishop, and renounced all
church fellowship with him.t A card was publicly affixed to the walls
of the principal church, containing a detailed comparison of the
doctrines of Nestorius with those of Paul of Samosata.® Several
presbyters preached, in one of the churches of Constantinople, against
the doctrines of Nestorius. He forbade their preaching. Some of
the clergy, who were hostile to him, were deposed from their places,
as favorers of Manicheism, by a synod convened under his presidency
at Constantinople. On that principle of charging opponents with all
imaginable consequences from their doctrines, in which both parties
- equally indulged, it had probably been inferred from the manner in
1 Ἐμοί πρὸς τὴν φώνην φϑόνος οὐκ ἔστι,
μόνον μη ποιεῖτω τὴν παρϑένον ϑέαν. 5. V.
1. ο. 80.
2 Nestorius, to his honor be it said, seems
everywhere to have been averse to these
loud theatrical demonstrations of applause.
He says here: [adv ὑποπτεύω τὸν xporov,
—and on another occasion, where doubtless
he had been received with loud exclama-
tions of applause, he says, I do not judge
the love you bear me by your shouts, οὐ
κραυγαῖς κρίνω τὴν εἰς ἔμε φιλοστοργίαν.
5. II. fol. 8.
38. V.f. 31.
* See the petition of the Diaconus Basi-
lius, and the monks associated with him, in
Harduin. Concil. Τ', I. f. 1335.
5L.c. f. 1271.
8 As Nestorius says himself, in a letter to _
Cyrill of Alexandria, 1. c. f. 1380 iy
i
CYRILL OF ALEXANDRIA. 458
‘which those clergy, in accordance with the Egyptian scheme, had
expressed themselves in speaking of the human nature of Christ, that
they denied the reality of Christ’s humanity, and had therefore fallen
into the Manicheian Docetism. In view of the remarks already made
_ respecting the character of Nestorius, we must admit there may have
been some ground for the accusations of his opponents, inclined though
they were to indulge everywhere in extravagant statements, that in
the heat of controversy he sometimes forgot himself so far as to resort
to violent measures. But we should remember also how sorely he was
provoked by fanatical and arrogant opponents, who showed not the
least respect for law or order. Once, when Nestorius was about to
enter the church for the purpose of preaching a discourse from the
Bema, a monk boldly placed himself in the way to stop him, because
heretics should not be allowed to teach in public. His adversaries,1
who relate this story themselves, call this disorderly behaviour by no
severer name, indeed, than the zeal of a pious simplicity ; but they
really had no reason to complain, when such a disturber of the public
peace was harshly dealt with, and banished from Constantinople. On
another occasion, Nestorius displayed that spirit of moderation which
seeks not to dispute about words, while pure doctrine is seen to be
safe. As he had publicly declared in his sermons, that he had no
objection to the term ϑεότοκος, in itself considered ; so, in opposition to
several of the clergy and the monks who had stigmatized him as a
heretic, he declared himself ready to concede, that the person who by
his nature is the Son of God was born of the virgin Mary, the mother .
of God, since there is but one Son of God. ‘The last addition shows
in what sense he would concede this; namely, since the true and
essential Son of God had appropriated to himself human nature, and
taken it up into union with his own dignity, so that there is but one
Son of God, the predicates of the human nature might therefore, in
this point of view, be attributed to the one Son of God. Had these
persons rightly understood the remark of Nestorius, in its connection
with his own scheme of doctrine, they would not have accused him of
deception.2 The adversaries of Nestorius at Constantinople, at a time
when he still possessed full influence at the imperial court and stood
united with the ruling power, would hardly have ventured to come out
so boldly against him, unless they had been sure of another powerful
support, by virtue of their connection with Cyrill, the patriarch of
Alexandria, through whose sympathy and participation it was that
consequences of a still more extensive and general nature flowed from
this controversy.
To form a correct judgment of the several steps from the beginning,
which Cyrill took in this matter, it will be necessary first to glance at
1Τ,. c. Harduin. 1338.
2 The language of Nestorius, as quoted
by his accusers, (Harduin. I. f. 1338,) was:
Περὶ τοῦ φύσει viov τοῦ ϑέου, dre ἐτέχϑη ἀπὸ
τῆς ἁγίας Μαρίας τῆς ϑεότοκου, ἐπεὶ (οὐκ)
ἔν! ἄλλος υἷος. Itis plain that, with Tille-
ont, we must here supply the οὐκ inserted
within the brackets; since for the very rea-
son that Nestorius acknowledged but one
Son of God in the united deity and hu-
manity, he was willing also in this regard
to admit the term ϑεότοκος, rightly under-
stood.
454 CYRILL. HIS CHARACTER.
the disposition and character of the man, and at the course of conduct
he had exhibited since his entrance on the episcopal office. A
violent persecuting spirit against Pagans, Jews, and heretics, an un-
bounded ambition, which did not scruple to resort to force and to.
political means for the sake of securing its ends,! were the traits of
character which Cyrill had thus far unfolded.2 A man of his stamp
must have been attracted by an opportunity so inviting, of ex-
tending the dominion which he exercised in the Egyptian church,
over a still wider field. In contemplating by themselves the first steps
taken by Cyrill in this contest, we might be led to conclude that he
was actuated by a zeal for pure doctrine, which, though it grew out of
an exclusive, dogmatical spirit, and was exceedingly narrow, was yet
untainted by personal passions ; — that in the outset he did really seek,
by gently pointing out where Nestorius was wrong, to convince and
change the mind of his fellow-bishop, who, in his opinion, had given
just cause of offence to many ;— and, in so concluding, we should not
attach overmuch importance to his abusive interpretation of his oppo-
nent’s principles, —a practice which we find to have been no less
common with the other party. But when we compare these steps of
Cyrill with his character as previously exhibited ; when we follow them
in their measured and gradual progress to the final results ; —it be-
comes quite probable that he commenced so gently, only because the
reigning influence of the patriarch of Constantinople was at first too
strong for him; and that he meant to prepare with cunning policy
the more decided steps which were to follow in due time.
Soon after the breaking-out of the disputes at Constantinople, Cyrill
took part in them by publishing two works of his own, in which, how-
ever, he refrained wholly from alluding to the name or the person of
Nestorius. One of these was a program referring to the approaching
Easter festival,? which, conformably to the usage of the Alexandrian
bishops, he issued just before the commencement of the fasts. It being
customary on such occasions to treat such topics of faith or morals as
were adapted to the season, Cyrill chose for his topic on this occasion
the peculiar character of Christ, the God-man, as compared with all
other divine messengers and prophets, — the doctrine of the union of
the deity and humanity in Christ.t Next, he took up the same doc-
trinal subject in a long admonitory letter, addressed, after the Haster
festival, to the Egyptian monks. In both these writings, he carried out
the distinction between an essential and natural union, and a barely
_ relative, moral communion of God with humanity. He represented the
transfer of predicates, and hence also the designation of Mary with the
title ϑεότοκος, to be a necessary consequence of the former: he labored
to show that, unless the former were adopted with all the consequences
1 Vid. Socrat. VII. 7. appear under the name of homilies, (ὁμι-
2 Tt was also rumored of Cyrill, that bish- λίαι.) perhaps because they answered the
oprics could be obtained of him for money, twofold purpose of being read before the
by persons wholly unworthy of the office. Alexandrian church, and of being sent to
See Isidor. Pelusiot. 1. II. ep. 127. other Egyptian churches.
8 Libellus paschalis, γράμματα macyada. 4 The 17th among his homilix paschales
Among the works of Cyrill, these letters
HIS ATTACKS ΟΝ NESTORIUS. 455
which flowed from it, Christ would be represented as a mere man, whom
God employed, like other men, as an instrument; and that accordingly
Christ could not be the Redeemer of mankind. In his second work,
Cyrill expressly states the reason why he deemed it necessary to ad-
dress this letter to the monks. Evil reports—he said—had got
~ among them ;! and people were abroad, who sought to disturb their sim-
ple faith, by starting such questions as whether Mary ought to be
called ϑεότοκος or not. He observed, in the first place, very justly, that
it were better, if these persons (who had no call whatever to teach, and
who for the most part were wholly destitute of any regular education)
would abstain altogether from such questions, and not agitate anew
those matters which even the best cultivated minds could scarcely con-
template as seen through a glass darkly. This reason surely ought to
have prevented Cyrill himself from writing his letter ; but he supposed
that, inasmuch as such questions had already begun to be agitated
among them, it was necessary to furnish them with the means of refuting
the sophisms of their opponents, and of securing their own faith against
these assaults. But among the Egyptian monks, who were wholly de-
pendent on the authority of the Alexandrian patriarchs, and by their
peculiar mode of traming were least of all prepared or inclined to
receive the Antiochian scheme of doctrine, the danger of being infected
by errors which emanated from Constantinople was hardly so great as
to call for any extraordinary precautions. Hence it would seem to be
evident that Cyrill was not altogether in earnest in what he here said :
it may rather have been his express design, instead of suppressing, to —
foment the dispute, and add to its importance. The Egyptian monks
were, in truth, the willing and ready tools of the Alexandrian bishops
in their controversies; and Cyrill must undoubtedly have been aware
how easily the passions of these people could be excited on matters
of this sort.
It would seem, moreover, that, from various quarters, Cyrill was
reproached? for having made such an attack on Nestorius, on the ©
ground of mere reports, as he himself had avowed ; an attack which,
owing to the position maintained by the patriarch of Alexandria in the
church, must necessarily create a great sensation. Cyrill now declared
that he felt himself called upon to open and expound the pure doctrine,
in order to set at rest the minds of those who had taken offence at the
reported explanations of Nestorius. He defended himself against the
charge of uncharitableness and love of dispute, by alleging what, in
such cases, hypocrisy, abusing the sacred name of love, may easily wear
on the lips, that he was ready to sacrifice everything to charity, but
could yield nothing in matters of faith; that he could not remain silent,
1 Θρύλλοι τινές χαλεποί. necessary to inflict on mortal men on ac-
2 See ep. VI. and VII. among his letters. count of personal grievances, fall upon the
The venerable abbot Isidore of Pelusium, living church. Prepare not the way for
who might properly address Cyrill in a cer- perpetual divisions in the church under the
tain tone of authority, wrote to him thus: pretence of piety.” L. I. ep. 370. ;
“Put an end to the dispute, lest you bring 8 Ep. 6. Σκανδαλισϑείσιν ἀνθρώποις ἀπὸ
down upon yourself the judgment of God. τῶν ἐξηγησέων αὐτοῦ, in the II. ep. to Nestor
Let not the punishment which you deem it Χαρτίων ἤγουν ἐξηγήσεων περιφερομένων
456 CYRILL’S LETTER TO NESTORIUS.
when scandal had been given to all the churches of the Roman empire ;
that, by remaining silent under such circumstances, he would incur the
charge of a serious dereliction from duty in the sight of God. He also
hints at the reasons which induced him, in that address to the monks, to
abstain as yet from all personal attacks, and to use language which was
still so far from being vehement. He says! that he might justly have pro-
nounced the anathema on every person who refused to call Mary the
mother of God; but he had as yet forbore from so doing,? for the sake
of Nestorius ; — lest many might say that the dishop of Alexandria or
the Hyyptian synod had condemned him. [0 is easy to see, that Cyrill
was anxious to avoid the reproach of hunting up heresies under the in-
fluence of passion,—a reproach to which events still fresh in the
memories of all ® easily exposed him.
Nestorius must, of course, have been greatly excited by this letter,
soon dispersed abroad, in which the doctrine taught by him was repre-
sented as conflicting with the very essence of Christianity ; — ἃ letter, the
design and purport of which, no one who was acquainted with the incidents
at Constantinople could be at any loss to understand, and which put a
new weapon into the hands of his antagonists at Constantinople ; and
the more so, since, from Cyrill’s own declaration afterwards, that his
address was aimed against the reported scriptural expositions of Nesto-
rius, it was apparent that the above-mentioned discourse first held by
Nestorius was the real object of his attack.
When Cyrill learned how much Nestorius had been annoyed by his
letter to the monks, he wrote to him personally in justification of himself.
It was not Ais letter assuredly, he thought, which had given rise to
disturbances on account of the faith; but it was what Nestorius was
supposed to have said, whether he had said it or not. There were
many, he affirmed, who were ready to deny that they could any longer
call Christ God, or anything more than an instrument of the Deity.
How could he (Cyrill) remain silent, when injury was done to the faith,
and so many were disturbed?* Would he not have made himself an-
swerable for his untimely silence before the judgment-seat of Christ ?
Indeed, what was he to do now? Cyrill hypocritically represented the
matter, as if he were desirous of consulting with Nestorius himself as to
how he should act, since he had been inquired of by the Roman bishop
Coelestin and by a Roman synod, whether the writing dispersed abroad
under the name of Nestorius, which had created everywhere great
offence, should be considered as his or not. Cyrill says he did not
himself know how that writing had been conveyed to Rome ; although
‘doubtless he knew all about it. He affected to doubt whether that dis-
course had really proceeded from Nestorius, although his animadver-
sions on Nestorius in this letter showed clearly enough that he had no
doubts on the subject ; and although, in case he entertained any, his
1p. VI. that a sermon of Nestorius should have
2 Ov πεποιῆκα τοῦτο δι’ αὐτὸν τέως. produced such important effects among
8In the case of Chrysostom, of which Egyptian monks, who were so little capable
we shall speak hereafter. of being affected by a tendency of this sort.
470 is hardly to be conceived, however,
NESTORIUS’S REPLY. 457
conduct would only have been the more censurable. Thus then Cyrill
concludes, that Nestorius was bound rather to find fault with himself,
than with him. It would be his better course to correct what he had
said, so as to put an end to the scandal which the whole world had taken.
If anything had escaped him, even in oral discourse, which he had
~ occasion to regret, he ought, after mature reflection, to rectify the mis-
take, and no longer hesitate to call Mary the mother of God.
This letter of Cyrill was, of course, not calculated to mend or to
mitigate the injury he had done to Nestorius; for this very letter,
notwithstanding all its assurances of love, contained, in fact, the severest
charges which could be alleged against a preacher of the gospel as such.
Although Nestorius signified as much in his reply to Cyrill, yet he
answered him in a calm and dignified tone. Into the specific matter of
Cyrill’s letter he forbore to enter at large, but sought only to refute
the charges brought against his doctrine in Cyrill’s address to the monks,
and to retort the same accusations, under another form, upon Cyrill
himself. In so doing, he indulged himself, it must be allowed, though
in a different way, in the same unwarrantable license, which his oppo-
nent had taken, of misrepresentation and false charges. Instead of
entering into Cyrill’s train of thought, in holding fast to the expressions,
«“ς God was born,” ‘¢ God suffered,” and the like, which might flow out
of the theory of the transfer of predicates, he accused him of falling
into Pagan, Apollinarian, and Arian errors, and still worse, — of repre-
senting God as capable of passion. But he was surely right, when he
said that the sacred scriptures uniformly give such predicates, not to
the Godhead, but to Christ, which name designates the union of the
two natures. Hence, moreover, it was his opmion, that Mary should
be called rather the mother of Christ, (ypcoréroxoc,) than the mother of
God. After having called upon Cyrill to examine more closely into
the doctrine of scripture, so as to perceive this, he ironically thanked
him for sympathizing so deeply with those whose peace had been dis-
turbed, and for extending his anxieties even to the affairs in Constanti- ©
nople. He might rest assured, however, that he had been wrongly
informed, perhaps by clergymen of Constantinople like minded with
himself; for everything there was in the most favorable condition ; —
the Christian knowledge of his flock daily improving, and the emperor
rejoicing in the prosperity of the church. Nestorius could not there-
fore, at this time, have been aware of any threatening danger. Cyrill
did not leave this letter unanswered: he complained, in his reply, of the
calumnies of worthless men, who dared to criminate him, especially in
the councils of the higher officers of state.1 He next repeats the admo-
nitions of his first letter, unfolds anew his doctrine concerning the
union of natures, and defends it against the consequences which Nes-
torius had drawn from it in his letter.”
1 Τὰς τῶν ἐν τέλει σύνοδους καιρωφυλα- that in the outset Nestorius seemed to have
κοῦντες μαλίστα. These persons would those who were in authority rather in his
naturally be averse to a bishop who was so favor than opposed to him.
fond of intermeddling with political affairs. 2 Ep. IV.
This passage serves to show, moreover,
VOL. I.
458 NESTORIUS INCLINED TO PEACE.
For a moment it seemed as if the way was opened for a reconcilia-
tion between the two patriarchs, which, could it possibly have been
brought about, would have facilitated the suppression, at least for a
time, of the controversies now in the bud. A presbyter of the Alexan-
drian church, by the name of Lampon, came to Constantinople, as a
mediator of peace ; an office which he had probably undertaken of his
own accord. Although Nestorius had already determined to break off
the correspondence’ entirely, yet the spirit of Christian love by which
Lampon seemed to be actuated, exerted an influence over him, which
nothing else could have done. Nestorius was persuaded to write one
more short letter to Cyrill;! a letter which everywhere breathes sin-
cerity, and in its few words presents a fair image of the writer’s heart.
«“ς Nothing is of more power,” he writes, “‘ than Christian gentleness,
By this man’s might I have been conquered ; for I confess that I am
seized with great fear, when I perceive in any man the spirit of Christ-
ian gentleness ; —it is as if God dwelt in him.”’? It may perhaps have
been a consequence of this peaceful disposition, then cherished by Nes-
torius, that the presbyter Anastasius himself, who was the original
author of the dispute, made an attempt towards reconciling those mem-
bers of the clergy at Constantinople who had broken. off from fel-
lowship with their patriarch.? But the opposition of the two parties to
each other had already gone too far to allow this disposition of Nes-
torius to be of any long continuance, or such a negotiation to come to
any favorable issue.
Cyrill constantly kept up the connection with the party opposed to
Nestorius amongst the clergy, monks, and laity at Constantinople. He
covertly directed their steps, which could easily be done, since doubt-
less the Alexandrian patriarchs were always accustomed to maintain
their agents (ἀποκρισιάριοι Ὁ near the imperial residence. But, at the
same time, so ambitious and violent a man as Cyrill would necessarily
have many enemies among his own clergy; and these now sought
protection and support from Nestorius. They placed in his hands
many charges against their bishop; charges for which the latter, by his
arbitrary and violent proceedings, had doubtless given just occasion ;
and it would seem that these complaints were at first received and
entertained at the imperial court. In a person of Cyrill’s character,
this circumstance would probably create an impression, that disappointed
vanity and revenge had now led Nestorius to aim at ruining him ; but
fears for the disposition of the court at Constantinople, which still
seemed favorably inclined to Nestorius, would counsel him to prudence.
Deserving of notice in this regard, is particularly Cyrill’s answer to a
memorial of the events which had there transpired, sent to him by the
clergy who espoused his cause in Constantinople.* Laying it to the
1 Ep. III. in the Greek, and in a Latin translation by
2 Φόβον ὁμολογῶ κεκτῆσϑαι πολὺν mept Marius Mercator,—which last contains a
πάσαν πάντος ἄνδρος χριστιανίκην ἐπιεικείαν, good deal more than the Greek, and some-
ὡς ἐγκαϑήμενον αὐτῇ τὸν Séov κεκτημένην. times helps to correct the latter, though it
3 See Cyrill. ep. 8. must itself also sometimes be corrected
4 Ἐρ. 5. This remarkable document has by the Greek. According to the super-
come down to us in two different forms,— scription as given by Marius Mercator, this
CYRILL’S MANAGEMENT. 459
‘charge of Nestorius that he had instigated worthless men to appear as
Cyrill’s accusers, he says, “ Let him “know that I have no fear of the
journey (to Constantinople, ) nor of my being able to answer those
persons, when it zs the proper time. For in due course the providence
of our Saviour makes use of slight and unimportant things as occasions
for assembling a synod, and through its means his church is purified,
so that it preserves the noble faith untarnished. But let not the
wretched man suppose, that, even though the persons who by his
instigation would accuse us were more in number and more important
than they are, he 7s to be gudge over us; for when I come to Constanti-
nople, I shall protest against this, and he himself will have to answer
for the bad reports which are abroad concerning him.”” We see from
this, that the thought of Nestorius presiding over a synod, as his judge,
was a thing peculiarly intolerable to Cyrill’s vanity. Nestorius had
been the first to propose a synod, to assemble at Constantinople for the
purpose of considering these and other matters; but although this
proposition had come from his adversaries, yet Cyrill was satisfied with
it ;— for, as it here appears evident, he conceived the hope that, by
adroit management, he should succeed in converting this synod into an
instrument for the overthrow of Nestorius and his system. He wrote,
therefore, to the above-mentioned ecclesiastics, that everything from
the sermons of Nestorius which could be used to his disadvantage,
must be carefully preserved, until the proper time,' unless a change
took place in him. ‘Those ecclesiastics had transmitted to him a
complaint drawn up in very severe language against Nestorius, and
designed for the emperor, in making use of which they wished to follow
the judgment of Cyrill. The latter, however, chose to withhold the
document, because he feared an unfavorable impression would be
created by its severity.2, He substituted in place of this another
memorial, craftily prepared by himself, in which he preferred they
should act first, not on the offensive, but on the defensive against
Nestorius. In this instrument, they protested against his judicial
authority ; and, to justify the step, they endeavored to point out the
cause from which the hostility of Nestorius proceeded, which gave
them a convenient opportunity for bringing out on this occasion the
complaint against his orthodoxy. In case their adversaries persisted
in their accusations, they were to appeal to another tribunal. This
memorial, Cyrill wrote to them, was to be delivered only when it should
be found necessary. He would himself take the -first opportunity to
choose certain bishops and monks, wise and pious men, and send them
on to Constantinople ; for he should not rest easy, ufitil, as he cantingly
letter of Cyrill was directed to his agents
(Apocrisiarii) at Constantinople. On the
other hand, according to the Greek docu-
ment, it was directed to the schismatic cler-
gy at Constantinople. At all events, the
advice with regard to the petition to the
emperor, which had been submitted to
Cyrill’s inspection, is closely connected with
this letter; and this advice assuredly seems
much more like that which would be ad-
dressed to the clergy of another diocese,
who had entered into combination with
Cyrill, than to agents taken from his own
clerus, It is probable, therefore, that the
Greek title is the right one.
1 Ἐπεὶ καὶ ἀλλὰ πολλὰ ἐπισύ 'ρονται ἐγκλή-
ματα ἐκ τῶν ἐξηγήσεων αὐτοῦ, φυλακϑῆσονται
ἕως καίρου.
Ἵνα μὴ ἐπερχοίτο ἡμῖν λέγων: κατῆ-
γορῆσατέ μου ἐπὶ τοῦ βασιλέως ὡς αἱρετικοῦ.
460 CYRILL’S MANAGEMENT.
expressed it, he had fought out the battle for the salvation of all to the
end. Moreover, he was already preparing to write such letters and
to such persons as the case demanded.
To create an influence against Nestorius at the court, Cyrill, in the
year 429, had written two works, in which he expounded his own
views, as above described, and controverted the opinions attributed to
Nestorius ; but without engaging in any personal attack on Nestorius,
or even mentioning his name. One of these works he addressed to
the emperor Theodosius II. himself, and to the empress Eudocia; the
other to that all-powerful woman, the Augusta Pulcheria, and to the
rest of the emperor’s sisters. A passage in the letter hereafter to be
noticed, which the emperor sent to Cyrill, might lead us to conjecture,
that Cyrill had very good and special reasons for addressing himself to
Pulcheria ; that he had been informed, by means of his secret spies at
Constantinople, of a misunderstanding, of which perhaps Nestorius
himself had been the occasion, between the emperor and his sister,
who otherwise possessed so much influence with him; and that he
hoped to turn this connection with Pulcheria to the purpose of weaken-
ing the court party which favored Nestorius: for he is afterwards ac-
cused by the emperor of having taken this step, either because he had
contrived, in a way unbefitting his station, to get knowledge of the
breach between the emperor and his sister, or because he had sought
to sow discord between them. And this accusation brought against
Cyrill harmonizes with an ancient story, which intimates that Nesto-
rius had incurred the displeasure of Pulcheria, by leading her brother
to suspect her of having entered into some illicit connection with one
of the nobles of the court.2 This supposition is rendered probable
likewise by similar examples in the history of the Constantinopolitan
patriarchs.?
It had often been the case before, that the bishops of the contending
church parties in the East endeavored to secure the victory on their
side, by forming a connection with the bishops of Rome. ‘To this
1 Undoubtedly Cyrill understood very
well what persons at Constantinople he
should address, and how he could best work
upon them so as to accomplish his designs
at the court. The most instructive expla-
nation of all these points is contained in a
letter of his archdeacon and syncell, which
we shall have occasion to quote when we
come to speak of somewhat later events.
_ 2. The obscure passage in Suidas, under
the word Pulcheria. Ἢ Πουλχερία τοσοῦτον
éutcet τὸν Neortopiov, ὡς τοὺς φιλοῦντας
ἐκείνον διαϑρύλλειν, ὅτι πορνείαν πρὸς τὸν
ἀδελφὸν αὐτῆς Θεοδοσίον τὸν βασιλέα διέβαλλε
Πουλχερίας ὁ Νεστορίος καὶ διὰ τούτο οὕτως
ὑπ’ αὐτῆς ἐμισεῖτο, ἐλοιδορεῖ γὰρ αὐτὴν εἰς
τὸν τότε μαγίστρον ἸΠαυλίνον λεγόμενον.
The sense of this passage might perhaps
also be construed thus, that Nestorius had
accused her before the Paulinus there men-
tioned, of forbidden intercourse with her
brother ; but this rendering is not so well
suited to the collocation of the words as:
that followed in the text. And had this
been the accusation, Theodosius would
have been as much excited against Nestori-
us as Pulcheria was.
8 Afterwards, too, it is always to Pulche-
ria that the merit is ascribed of having
especially contributed, by her zeal for the
orthodox faith, to bring about the suppres-
sion of the Nestorian heresy. The language
of the syncell already mentioned, to a
bishop of Constantinople, during the later
transactions, may serve as an example:
Festina supplicari domine ancillz Dei Pul-
cheriz Anguste, ut tterum ponat animam
suam pro Domino Christo; that is, in behalf
of the cause of Cyrill. When Pulcheria
reigned with Marcian, the Egyptian bishops,
during the first session of the council of
Chalcedon, shouted : Ἢ Αὐγύστα Neoropiov
ἐξέβαλε. See Harduin. Concil. T. II. f. 74, B
THEIR LETTERS TO ROME. 461
~ means Cyrill now resorted. He sent to Ccelestin, bishop of Rome, a
report of the erroneous doctrines taught by Nestorius. It is plain
that, in so doing, he took the liberty of making many untrue statements,
so as to make it appear to the Orientals, that the step had been taken,
not of his own free will, but as a matter of necessity. Earlier than
this he had complained to Nestorius, that his sermons had given
great offence at Rome; (see above ;) and he had pretended to ask him
what was to be done. But it is evident from the letter of Cyrill, of
which we are now speaking, that he was the first to write on this
occasion, without being asked, to the Roman bishop; for his letter is
not a reply to one which he had received. Moreover, it seems to have
been Cyrill himself who caused the sermons of Nestorius to be trans-
lated, and immediately sent to Rome, where he was the first to make
them known. Next, in his letter to John, patriarch of Antioch, he
represents the matter as though he had been led first by the report of
Nestorius to the Roman bishop, to write to the latter in his own
defence; but this statement is utterly at variance with the contents
and tone of the letter to the bishop Ceelestin ; for Cyrill surely would
not have omitted to mention in his own letter that of Nestorius, if his
own had been occasioned by it. This epistle was composed in a style
well fitted to win the favorable verdict of a Roman bishop, anxious to
establish his authority as judge over the whole church; for he wrote
to him, that he left it to his decision whether he (Cyrill) ought or
ought not to announce to Nestorius the withdrawal from him of the
fellowship of the church. He requested him to make known his.
decision by letters to all the bishops of the East; for this would have
for its effect to unite them all together in the .defence of the pure
doctrine. Τὸ the bearer of this letter, a certain deacon Posidonius,
Cyrill at the same time entrusted, for the use of the Roman bishop, a
brief statement of the main points in which the erroneous doctrines of
Nestorius consisted, and a skilful exposition of all that was peculiar |
and characteristic in the Antiochian system of doctrine ; represented,
however, only in that particular light in which it must appear to him
from his own point of view, and with some unfair conclusions.
As to Nestorius, he too had occasion to write to the Roman bishop,
but on another subject, and one, indeed, which was not exactly suited
to procure for him a favorable hearing. Four bishops from Italy,
deposed in the Pelagian controversies, had some time before taken up
their residence in Constantinople. They had complained of the injustice
done them, and sought help from the patriarch of Constantinople, as
well as from the emperor. Nestorius was too much a friend to justice,
and of too independent a spirit, to condemn these men at once, without
inquiring into the matter. He wished to hear both sides, and therefore
reported the affair to the Roman bishop, requesting from him a more
exact statement of the facts. He wrote several letters to Rome on
this subject, but received no answer; partly perhaps because the
Roman bishop, being ignorant of the Greek language, was obliged to
wait till the letters could be translated, and partly because the style
of the letters may not have been altogether flattering to the Roman
VOL. II. 99"
462 CELESTIN’S DECISION. -
pride. In two other letters, which he despatched after these, Nesto-
rius drew up a report of the controversy which had now begun. He
spoke here with the same vehemence and injustice of the positions of
his opponent, as the latter had done with respect to his own doctrines.
Yet here too he declared himself ready, though preferring himself to
give Mary the title of χριστότοκος, to allow that she might be called
Sedroxoc, provided this title was understood to refer, not to the deity,
but to the humanity united with the deity. Very striking, however,
is the difference of tone between the letters of Nestorius and: those of
Cyrill to the Roman bishop. Cyrill addresses him in language which
was at least capable of being so understood as if he did concede to
him a certain supreme judicial authority over the church. Nestorius
speaks to him as one colleague to another, and as a person standing
on the same level with himself. This of itself would be sufficient to
interest Coelestin, the Roman bishop, in favor of Cyrill rather than of
Nestorius, and to enlist his prejudices against the latter. In addition
to this, he had first become acquainted with the doctrines of Nestorius
from the representations of Cyrill, the latter having more craftily
accompanied his letters with a Latin translation; and it is easy to see
that the scheme which had thus been explained to him would, from the
first, appear to him to detract from the dignity of the God-man.!
Ceelestin decided at a Roman synod, that the clergy excommunicated
by Nestorius should be received back to the fellowship of the church ;
and in case Nestorius himself did not present, within ten days after the
reception of the sentence pronounced at Rome, a written recantation,
and testify his agreement with the Roman and Alexandrian church
doctrine respecting the birth of Christ, who is our God, he should be
excommunicated, and no longer recognized as patriarch. In a letter to
Cyrill, full of extravagant praises, he gave to that bishop, by the sove-
reign authority of the apostolic see, the power of carrying this sentence
into execution; and, in case Nestorius refused to furnish the required
recantation, of providing at once for the appomtment of a new patriarch.
This sentence he communicated also to the clergy at Constantinople
who had seceded from Nestorius, and to the latter himself with the most
vehement reproaches. ‘The Roman bishop here claimed for himself a
supreme judicatory authority, which, according to the then constitution
of the church, in nowise belonged to him; and which Cyrill, unless he
had seen that it might be turned to his own advantage, and could not
possibly prove injurious to it, would assuredly never have conceded.
_ But, under the present circumstances, this declaration of the Roman
bishop was extremely agreeable to Cyrill, as an important means for
the attainment of his objects ; for he could make use of this declaration
to intimidate the Oriental bishops by the fear of a rupture with the
whole Western church ; with which church, peace had, but a short time
1 The doctrine of Nestorius appeared to tinople. The Roman narrowness betrays
him to be such, that its author could some- itself in his letter to Cyrill, where he
times consider Christ to be a mere man, charges it upon Nestorius as a crime: ‘Or
and sometimes, whenever he thought fit, Χριστῷ τῷ ϑεῷ ἡμῶν ἐπάγεται ζήτησις πεοὶ
ascribe to him unity with God. See the τῆς ἰδίας γεννήσεως.
letter of Coelestin to the clergy at Constan-
NESTORIUS AND JOHN, PATRIARCH OF ANTIOCH. 463
before, been once more restored. This is made manifest in his letter
to John, patriarch of Antioch.
The most eminent and influential bishops of the Eastern provinces of
Roman Asia,” who were attached partly to the unaltered system of
Theodore, and in part to a very temperate and mild interpretation
of the same, looked with alarm at the outbreak of a new schism, which
threatened once more to sever from one another the Christian East
and West, after the peace of the church had, but a very short time
before, by the unwearied pains of the centenarian bishop Acacius of
Bercea in Syria, been again restored. Among the bishops of Syria,
several men were at that time to be found, who were distinguished for
profound knowledge, genuine and ardent piety, and freedom from that
worldly spirit by which so many of their colleagues were governed.
By the relations of former friendship, they were, for the most part, well
disposed to Nestorius, as they were, by their moderate way of thinking,
inclined to take the part of mediators of peace between the two parties.
In this feeling, the person who in rank stood first among these bishops,
John, patriarch of Antioch, wrote to Nestorius with the common under-
standing of six other bishops of this district, who happened just then to
be assembled with him. He transmitted to him the letters which he
had received from Alexandria and Rome, accompanied by remarks of
his own, distinguished for Christian wisdom and moderation. He begged
of him so to read the letters which he sent, as not to allow himself to be
hurried away by those impulses of passion, out of which the hurtful
spirit of dispute and self-will were wont to spring ; nor yet to despise.
this matter, which might lead to an irremediable evil ;— but with
friends of the same mind with himself, to whom he must allow the
liberty of impartially telling him the truth, to inquire with calmness
what ought to be done. He presented before him the danger of the
new rupture which threatened to take place. What insolence would
not opponents who had already arrogated so much to themselves,
assume after reading these letters!* He regretted that the whole
dispute had arisen about a bare word, which in fact, even according to
the opinion of Nestorius himself, might be used in a right sense, and
had already been used in this sense by many church-teachers. The
Roman bishop had, indeed, allowed him but a short respite of only ten
days ; but he needed not even so short aspace as this for reflection. He
could in a few hours decide as to the explanation which should be given ;
for he needed not hesitate to approve a term whose fundamental sense,
according to the right understanding of it, he certainly did not reject.
He called upon him to offer this sacrifice for the sake of preserving the
1 Jn this letter he says, for example, with
regard to the determinations of the Romar
synod: Οἷς ἀνάγκη πείϑεσϑαι τοὺς ἀντεχο-
μένους τῆς πρὸς ἁπάσαν τὴν δύσιν κοινωνίας.
2 The so-called ἀνατολικοί.
8 A remarkable expression in the letter
of the patriarch: "Evvojcov yap, ὡς & πρὸ
τῶν νῦν ἀποσταλέντων γραμμάτων οἱ πολλοὶ
ἄσχετοι ἧσαν Kal’ ἡμῶν͵ νῦν δράξαμενοι, τῆς
ἀπὸ τῶν γραμμάτων τούτων παῤῥησίας τινες
οὔκ ἐσόνται, καὶ ποιᾷ οὐ χρῆσονται Ka?’ ἡμῶν
παῤῥησίᾳ. Unless we suppose, that the pa-
triarch is speaking here simply per anakoi-
nosin, — which, however, is not probable, —
we find here a hint of the many attacks which
the bishops of Eastern Asia had already
had to endure.
464 CYRILL’S ANATHEMAS AGAINST NESTORIUS.
peace of the church. What the patriarch John here advised his friend,
agreed, in fact, with the sentiments which he himself had already
expressed, of his own accord, on a previous occasion ; and accordingly
Nestorius in his reply, after having explained the origin of the whole
dispute, said that he had nothing to object to the term ϑεότοκος, provided
only it was guarded against misrepresentation, and understood in a
right sense, as designating the union! of the two natures. But with
regard to the habitual arrogance of the Egyptian—he wrote to the
patriarch John — there was no reason why he, in particular, should be
surprised at it; for he had before him many old examples of the same
thing.” Nestorius was then hoping for a general ecclesiastical assembly,
at which this controversy could easily be disposed of by a general agree-
ment. He had no presentiment at that time of the preponderance of the
opposite party at court.
Had this plan of Nestorius been adopted, the dispute might still
have been for the present suppressed, although indeed only for the
moment; since the opposition of the two doctrinal tendencies lying
at the root of this controversy about the term sedroxoe would most
assuredly, sooner or later, openly manifest itself.
But, by the arrogant conduct of Cyrill, the dispute about a word with
which the Syrian church also was satisfied, was converted into a contest
between the doctrinal systems of the two churches. Cyrill determined
to act as the executor of the sentence passed by the Roman synod. In
this year, 450, he sent a letter, in the name of a synod held at Alexan-
dria, to Nestorius, in which, conformably to the sentence pronounced at
Rome, he was for summoning him, the third and last time, to recant.
He laid before him the system of doctrines which he must confess as
the true system, and unfolded in twelve formulas of condemnation
(ἀναϑεματίσμοι ) what he had to recant. These explanations, however,
contained nothing else than the Egyptian creed carried out in opposition
to the rigidly Antiochian system, as it had been expressed by Theodore
of Mopsuestia—a ἕνωσις φυσικῆ (natural union) as opposed to the
ἕνωσις κατ᾽ ἀξίαν, εὐδοκίαν (union by worth, favor )— ἃ ἕνωσις, and not a συναφεία
(union, and not conjunction)— which last formula expressed too little.
One Son of God, one Christ out of two natures ; or, as he preferred to
say, formed of two different things into an indissoluble unity.? In the
one Logos who had become man, the different divine and human predi-
cates were, indeed, still to be distinguished ; but not so the two
natures. Both kinds of predicates were to be referred to one and the
same Logos, who became man. One Logos with his own proper body. |
‘Hence the unconditional transfer of predicates ; — as, for example, that
Mary had corporeally borne the Logos from God who became flesh ; ὅ
1 Propter unitionis rationem. had before existed between the Egyptian
2 De consueta vero Agyptii presum- and Syrian churches. ;
tione maxime tua religiositas non debet ὃ Ἔκ δύο καὶ διαφόρων πραγμάτων εἰς évo-
admirari, dum habes antiqua hujus exem- τῆτα τὴν ἀμέριστον συνηνεγμένος.
pla perplurima. Here too, we have a 4 “Eve λόγος μετὰ τῆς ἰδίας σάώρκος.
noticeable indication of the contests which ὅ ΤΓεγεννῆκε σαρκικὼς σάρκα γεγονότα τὸ»
ἐκ ϑεοῦ λόγον.
ὦ
THEODORET’S REFUTATION OF THEM. 465
‘that the Logos from God had suffered and been crucified according to
the flesh,! etc.
This step of the bishop Cyrill gave the whole matter a different turn ;
for it was thereby necessarily converted from a personal attack on
Nestorius into an attack on the form of doctrine taught in the Syrico
Asiatic church. So it was considered by the most authoritative teachers
of that church. John, patriarch of Antioch, who stood at their head,
deemed it necessary to enter into a public refutation of these anathe-
mas, and selected Theodoret, bishop of Cyros, a town on the Euphrates,
for this purpose.? This man, otherwise distinguished for his Christian
moderation and gentleness, allowed himself, however, in this instance,
to be misled by his dogmatic zeal, though springing no doubt out of a
purely Christian interest, into an unfair judgment. With right he
might complain that Cyrill’s formulas of condemnation failed in accuracy
of doctrinal expression, and that from this defect a dangerous reiiction
was to be apprehended on Christian knowledge. With good right he
supposed, that the extravagancies of expression, which might perhaps
be tolerated in the composition of Christian hymns, and in the more
rhetorical language of the homilies, would be followed with dangerous
consequences in doctrinal language, and could not be so mildly judged.?
Very justly he felt himself bound to enter the strongest protest against
this thing in particular, that Cyrill was bent on making a form of doc-
trinal expression which was so inexact, and so liable to misconstruction,
the prevailing formula in the Oriental church ; — and for stigmatizing
as heresy, everything that did not accord with it. But still he ought _
to have distinguished the doctrine lying at bottom from the form of the
expression, and not to have attributed to Cyrill, doctrines which he
could derive from his assertions only by inferences, against which Cyrill
had expressly enough guarded ; as he did, in fact, contrive to find, in
the condemnatory sentences of Cyrill, Apollinarian, Gnostic, and Mani-
chean errors. Now as Cyrill, in defending his anathemas, proceeded in
the same way against Theodoret’s system of faith, it was ἃ matter of ἡ
course that although the more temperate form of the Syrian creed
approximated very nearly to that of Cyrill, yet the opposition between
the two systems became more and more apparent: and the difficulty of
coming to a calm, mutual understanding with regard to differences,
1 Tov ϑεοῦ λόγον πάϑοντα σάρκι᾽ καὶ
ἐσταυρωμένον σάώρκι.
2 Ep. 150, among the letters of Theodo-
ret.
3 In his circulatory letter addressed to
the Syrian monks, in opposition to the
anathemas of Cyrill, ep. 151, where he
speaks of the expression used concerning
Mary, εἰ καὶ πανηγυρικῶς τὶς λέγειν ἐϑέλει
καὶ ὕμνους ὑφαίνειν καὶ ἐπαῖνους διεξιέναι
καὶ βούλεται τοῖς σεμνοτέροις ὁνόμασιν ἀναγ-
καιῶς κεχρῆσϑ' 4, οὐ δογματίζων, ἀλλὰ πανε-
γυρίζων καὶ ϑαυμώάζων ὡς οἱόντε τοῦ μυστηρίου
τὸ μεγεϑὸς, ἀπολαυέτω τοῦ πόϑου καὶ τοῖς
μεγάλοις ὀνόμασι κεχρήσϑω. This more
closely drawn distinction betwixt liturgical,
ascetic, and properly dogmatic language,
was, as a general thing, characteristic of
the Syrian church. Alexander, bishop of
Hierapolis, traces the whole corruption of
dogmatic terminology to the confounding
of the two distinct forms of language. Et
quidem ut in festivitatibus sive in preconiis
atque doctrinis incireumspecte Dei genitrix
sive Deum enixa ab orthodoxis tautummodo
sine adjectione diceretur, vel Deicidxi Ju-
dei (ϑεόκτονοι) vel quia verbum incarnatum
est cset., sane nulla accusatione sunt digna,
eo quod nec dogmatice sunt posita ista.
Epistola Alexandri Hierapolitani ad Theo-
doretum in Trageedia Irenei ed. Lupus.
Opp. Tom. VII. c. 94, f. 247; also in opp
Theodoreti, ed. Halens. T. V. ep. 78.
466 DIFFERENCES OF THE TWO SYSTEMS.
every day increased. A difference between the two systems existed,
it is true, all along; and this had its ground in the fact, that Theodoret
was seeking to unfold the truth under the forms of the understanding ;
while Cyrill, avoiding everything of that sort, was for holding fast only
to the transcendent fact, so that those nicer distinctions of the under-
standing appeared to him a belittleing or a denial of the mystery. But,
notwithstanding all this, the dispute on many of the formulas was made
of so much weight, because the parties did not mutually understand
each other as to their meaning. Theodoret vehemently controverted
the doctrine of a ἕνωσις φυσικῆ, of a ἕνωσις καϑ’ ὑπόστασιν, because he main-
tained that God was thereby subjected to a natural necessity, and the
distinction of the conceptions of deity and humanity which had become
united in Christ, was impossible ; but Cyrill understood those expres
sions in another sense, and guarded himself sufficiently against all those
interpretations. He opposed that ἕνωσις φυσικῆ and xa ὑπόστασιν to a
barely moral union, consisting in the will or in the mode of conduct. He
accused his opponents of holding to the latter only ; but Theodoret in
fact taught expressly, that deity and humanity were united in one
person.!
Out of these different doctrinal tendencies, however, arose also a
diferent mode of apprehending several particulars in the life of Christ.
Theodoret did not hesitate, in following the gospel history, to ascribe to
our Saviour, during his life on earth, in reference to his humanity, a
limited knowledge, and to say, “that this humanity, in that point of
time, knew only so much as the indwelling deity revealed to it.”? But
to Cyrill this assertion appeared scandalous : he affirmed, on the other
hand, that whoever said a revelation, and that a graduated one, was
made by the indwelling God to the servant-form, made of Christ a mere
prophet. As he was not disposed, however, directly to deny the igno-
rance predicated of the human nature of Christ, since he recognized the
attributes of the latter in their individuality, he expressed himself, with
a view to mark strongly the incomprehensibleness of the mystery, after
a form to which he could hardly attach any definite meaning: ‘‘ When
Christ subjected himself to the general mass of human nature, which is
limited in its knowledge, he appropriated this part of it also by a special
economy,’ although still he had no bounds to his knowledge, but was,
with the Father, omniscient.” 4
Thus, then, this arbitrary, illegal conduct of Cyrill tended at first to
injure rather than to benefit his course. In the consciousness of his
right, and of his independent dignity, Nestorius received the episcopal
deputies who brought to him the requisitions of Cyrill and Ccelestin,
with merited contempt: he did not allow himself to be interrupted
thereby in the preaching of his doctrine, and he opposed to the anathe-
mas of Cyrill, twelve others.
1*Ev πρόσωπον. He would not say μία 8 Οἰκονομικῶς οἰκειοῦται καὶ τοῦτο μετὰ
ὑπόστασις, because he took this term in τῶν ἄλλων.
another sense. 4 He says also: Αὐτοῦ παντῶς ἕσται καὶ
2 Τῆς τοσαύτα κατ᾽ ἐκείνου τοῦ καίρου τὸ εἰδέναι καὶ τὸ μὴ εἰδέναι δόκειν.
γινωσκούσης, ὅσα ἡ ἐνοικοῦσα ϑεότης ἀπεκώ-
λυψε
ΒΡΕΒΒ ISSUED FOR THE COUNCIL OF EPHESUS. 467
In the emperor’s court at Constantinople also, the conduct of Cyrill
ereated an impression very unfavorable to the latter. The complaints
of his arrogance and love of power, which had been already received
there before, seemed thereby to be confirmed. All the previous steps
of Cyrill in this affair, being placed along with the last, seemed to indi-
cate a deeply laid scheme for the arbitrary supplanting of Nestorius ;
but men were determined not to tolerate this despotism which individ-
ual bishops wished to exercise over the whole church, and not to sacra-
fice Nestorius to any such arbitrary caprice of an individual. According
to that system of church constitution which alone was recognized at
Constantinople, Cyrill’s arbitrary will. could gain no legal authority
from the dictatorial conduct of a Roman bishop. Since, then, it had
already been determined upon before, to assemble-a general council to
attend to other ecclesiastical matters, according to the wish of Nestorius
himself, and according to the proposal of his opponents, — so, by these
new events,*the prosecution of this purpose was hastened to a comple-
tion; for the investigation of the matters in dispute by a general
council would be set over against the arbitrary decision of individual
bishops and synods. The emperor was resolved to approve nothing but
the decisions of such a council. But as Constantinople had before (see
above) been fixed upon as the place for the meeting of the council, so
now the city of Ephesus was appointed instead of it. This change of
the place was occasioned, beyond all doubt, by some special cause. Prob-
ably fears were entertained of the combination of Cyrill with a certain
party of the Byzantine court, and with influential monks. So, on the -
19th of November, 430, the emperor Theodosius II. issued a procla-
mation to all the metropolitans of his empire, summoning them to meet
in a council to be holden at Ephesus, about Pentecost, in the following
year. But along with the general proclamation addressed to Cyril, as
it was to all the metropolitan bishops, the emperor sent to the former a
special one, in which he severely reprimanded him for his conduct thus |
far, and declared to him that he would suffer it no longer. This letter
is drawn up with more good sense than we should expect from a
Theodosius, and we can scarcely be mistaken in supposing that it was
dictated by a wiser head.
It called upon Cyrill to recollect, that pure doctrine was found by
investigation, rather than by the assumption of authority ; for from the
first! it had been established, not by the threat of any potentate what-
ever, but by the deliberations of the fathers. Let Cyrill declare then —
it proceeded — why, neglecting the emperor, of whom he knew that the
cause of piety lay near his heart, and neglecting all the priests in all
the churches, who ought rather to have been assembled for the purpose
of settling the matters in dispute, he has chosen, as much as in him
lay, to excite disorders and divisions in the church? And no wonder
he had here overstepped the bounds of propriety, as he had not even
spared the imperial family itself ; for why had he written twice ; — once
to the emperor and to the empress, and a second time to his sister Pul-
1 At all events, it should have been so.
a
468 COUNCIL AT EPHESUS. i.
cheria ? Doubtless for no other reason than because he either believed
that they were at difference with each other, or else hoped to set them
at difference by his letter. But were the first the case, it betrayed a
censurable curiosity (a buying interference in the concerns of the
court) for a bishop who lived so remote from the court, to know any-
thing about such matters ; ind, if it was not the case, the wish to excite
such discord was nowhere less befitting than in a bishop. But it be-
trayed the same disposition to be stirrmg up discord in the imperial
family, and to be exciting it among the “churches ; as if one had no
other means of making one’s self famous.
The emperor, at the appointed time, sent to Ephesus the Comes
Candidianus, as his plenipotentiary before the synod, with the express
command that he should not interfere with the doctrinal proceedings
of the council, but only use his authority for the preservation of order.!
Doubtless there were reasons for the anxiety which led to such a pre-
cautionary measure ; and many other things, indeed, contained in the
letter which the emperor addressed to the synod, confirm this conjec-
ture. For he directed, at the same time, that all persons belonging to
the secular order, and ‘all monks who had assembled at Ephesus, or
who should afterwards assemble there, should without exception leave
the place ; in order that the peaceful and calm investigation of doctrine
might not be disturbed by them, and that no passionate feelings or dis-
cord might be excited. There may, then, have already existed reasons
for apprehending — an apprehension which indeed afterwards proved
to be but too well founded—that the Cyrillian party would have at
their service many instruments quite alien from the spiritual investiga-
tion. Furthermore, the bishops were forbidden, during the proceedings,
to leave the synod, and especially to visit the court at Constantinople ;—
an order which indicates again that there were many grounds for fear-
ing the intrigues of the Cyrillian party with the court. It is clear more-
Θ
the forcible supplantation of Nestorius. His favorable disposition towards
the patriarch was shown by his allowing him alone to take with him, as
his companion to Ephesus, a friend of noble rank, the Comes Treneeus.
Cyrill and Nestorius arrived at Ephesus at the appointed time.
Cyrill brought with him a great number of Egyptian bishops, whose in-
terests were identical with his own, and who were his devoted tools.
The bishop Memnon of Ephesus was his friend, and perhaps, as
the opponent of the Constantinopolitan patriarch, whose ecclesiastical
supremacy these consequential metropolitans reluctantly acknowledged,
- bound to Cyrill by a common interest. This alliance secured to him a
dominant influence over the bishops of Asia Minor ; and as Memnon, be-
ing of like disposition with Cyrill, doubtless exercised a like authority
at Ephesus, to that which the latter exercised at Alexandria, it more-
over gave him a great power in the city where the council was assem-
bled. It was probably on account of his fear of this power, that Nes-
torius requested and obtained of the imperial commissioner a guard,
1Jn the imperial sacra directed to the τῇ συνόδῳ πανταχόϑεν περιφυλαχϑῆναι τὸ
synods, Harduin. Concil. T. I. 1346. “Ὥστε ἀτάραχον.
COUNCIL AT EPHESUS. 469
δὲ
who surrounded his dwelling, and allowed no one to enter without
being announced. This, it is true, may be reckoned along with the
many other adventitious circumstances of state which surrounded the
great bishops of the Roman empire, as indeed his opponents taunted
him on this military attendance; but a bishop of the party hostilely
- disposed to him, Acacius of Melitene, hints perhaps at the true motive,
when he says! that Nestorius was induced to this step by fear. Itis
true, he explains the fact according to his own views, attributing this
fear to the bad conscience with which the heretic must have been
troubled. But when we consider what a fanatical spirit had been
breathed into the Cyrillian party, what an influence this spirit might
exert on the rude popular masses which were devoted to this party,
especially if the charges laid against Cyrill in several public declara-
tions — and which appear by no means so improbable, to judge from the
dominion which he exercised at Alexandria,— if these charges are
true, namely, that he had engaged the peasants of Asia Minor and the
Egyptian sailors to execute his tyrannical behests,? we may easily find
another cause for the apprehensions of Nestorius. The party of Cyrill
affirmed, it is true, in their report to the emperor, that no disturbances
had taken place at Ephesus, which could have given Nestorius any
occasion for such precaution ;? but the proverb might here be applied,
that he who excuses himself is his own accuser.
After the bishops, assembled at Ephesus, had already waited seve-
ral weeks beyond the term fixed upon by the emperor, there were
many who should have assisted at the synod, that were still detamed by .
various circumstances from being present. The absence of the depu-
ties from the Roman bishop, who had been detained by unfavorable winds,
would give Cyrill neither concern nor satisfaction ; for he could reckon
upon their approbation of whatever he and his party might carry
through at the council, whether they were present at the proceedings
or not. But he must have rejoiced to find it in his power to open the
council without the assistance of the patriarch John of Antioch, and
the other Syrian. bishops ; for it was from these alone, who were for
the most part friendly to Nestorius, or, at least, all of them thoroughly
opposed to the Egyptian doctrines, and altogether independent of the
Egyptian influence, that he had to expect the most decided opposition.
The patriarch John had, in the first place, been obliged to put off his
journey on account of a famine which was then prevailing at Antioch,
beyond what was usual in that populous capital of Roman Asia in the
East, and on account of the popular tumults which had thence arisen.*
Besides, the violent rains in many of the districts through which the
long land-rout from Antioch to Ephesus led, had occasioned inunda-
1 Concil.. Ephes. act. I. T. I. f. 1390.
2 Jn the letter of the patriarch John of
Antioch, and the bishops connected with
him: Harduin. 1. c. 1459. Ναυταίς τὲ
Αἰγυπτίοις Kai ἀγροΐκοις ᾿Ασιάνοις ὑπούργοις
τῆς τυράννιδος χρησαμένοι, ]. ς. 1454. Πλή-
Soo τὸ ἀγροίκικον συναγάγων διεταράξε τὴν
πόλιν. Nestorius says, in his report to the
VOL. Il.
emperor, that Cyrill placed soldiers, proba-
bly procured through the influence οὗ.
Memnon of Ephesus, around the market-
place, and set the whole city in an uproar
L. ς. 1438.
8 L. c. 1442.
4 The letter of John to the emperor
Harduin. I. 1459.
470 COUNCIL AT EPHESUS.
tions, by which the journey was rendered more difficult and slow. Six-
teen days had already elapsed beyond the term appointed by the
emperor for the opening of the synod. The Syrian bishops, after having
been thirty days on the road, were still from five to six days’ jour-
ney from Ephesus. ‘The patriarch John informed Cyrill of this in a
respectful letter, which he sent to excuse their delay.’ After having
delayed for so long a time the opening of the council, the deputies cer-
tainly might have waited for these few days longer. But though forty-
one bishops insisted that the arrival of their colleagues, who were now
distant but a few days’ journey, ought to be waited for ; and though
they declared that they were resolved not to take part in any earlier
assembling of the council ; though Nestorius would receive no message
from a party assembly; though the imperial commissioner issued
several protests against the regularity of such an assembly, which was
counter to the emperor’s summons ; yet Cyrill, having secured the sup-
port of Memnon, bishop of Ephesus, and Juvenalis, bishop of Jerusalem,
and relying upon the vast number of Egyptian bishops and bishops of
Asia Minor, was not to be deterred by-any of these things ; and on the
22d of June, A.D. 431, he opened the synod with about two hundred
bishops. He endeavored afterwards, it is true, to justify this proceed-
ing, on the pretence that the patriarch John had purposely delayed ;
that he was unwilling to take any part in the sentence of deposition to
be pronounced on Nestorius, which he doubtless foresaw would be the
result of the synod, and of which affair he was heartily ashamed ; while
many of the bishops coming from Eastern Asia had mentioned, in the
commission of their patriarch, that the council might do what they
pleased, without waiting for their arrival.? But the above-mentioned
letter of the patriarch John seems more deserving of credit than this
assertion of Cyrill, as the latter would naturally seek after every thing
in the shape of an excuse for a mode of procedure so manifestly illegal ;
and it is moreover difficult to conceive, that the patriarch John, who
then assuredly entertained the purpose of sustaining his friend Nesto-
rius, would have designedly sacrificed him to the Cyrillian party, whom
he then had no occasion whatever to fear.
‘This assembly was partly a blind instrument in the hands of Cyrill,
who by various artifices had contrived to gain the entire influence over
it,’ and partly it was governed by the wildest fanaticism. Of course,
a regular and orderly investigation was not to be thought of; the result
to be arrived at, had already been settled and determined ; and hence
all the proceedings which were to lead to it, could easily be despatched
in a single day. Cyrill, as the champion of the pure doctrine, was
1 Concil. Ephes. Pars. I.c. 21. Harduin Mares: Προλάβων ὁ Κυρίλλος τὰς ἀκοὰς
I. 1348, τῷ φαρμώκῳ, τῷ περοῦντι τοὺς ὀφϑαλμοὺς
2 Cyrill in his letter to the clergy of Con- τῶν σόφων προκατέσχεν. Ὁ. Concil. Chale.
stantinople. 1. Harduin. f. 1435. act. 10, Harduin. II. ἢ 530. Ibas was one
3 ©Cyrill is said to have made use, in this of the Orientals who came to Ephesus
case also, of bribery; a favorite means of in company with the patriarch John. In
his for accomplishing his ends. This is the above letter, he shows, indeed, that he
intimated by the bishop Ibas of Edessa, belonged to a party, but still manifests no
in his letter to the Persian church-teacher, excitement.
COUNCIL ILLEGALLY OPENED. NESTORIUS CONDEMNED. 471
‘loaded with flattering encomiums ; his letters to Nestorius, which were
read, and his anathemas, were applauded as expressing the pure doc-
trine. Nestorius having declined two invitations of the council to be
present at their deliberations, and having declared that he should ap-
pear only when all the bishops were assembled ; a third summons, in
* the customary form, which was usually observed even when men were
acting in the very face of the laws, was now sent to him by four bishops,
accompanied by a notary and a church prelector.!_ Nestorius, who,
according to the original purpose of the assembly, was to appear as an
assistant in the investigations, not as a defendant on trial, was called
upon by the most holy synod, as they styled themselves, to vindicate
himself ; and was threatened, in case he did not appear and answer to
the written and oral charges laid against him, that the synod would find
it necessary to proceed against him according to the ecclesiastical rules.
The guard, who were stationed in the front court of the house, refused,
according to their orders, to admit the bishops to Nestorius, and more-
over informed them that, if they waited till night, they would receive
no other answer from Nestorius than the one already given.”
Although Nestorius had every lawful reason to protest against this
tribunal, yet the council proceeded to consider itself as the regular
body to judge and decide upon his case; and his refusal to appear be-
fore them was construed as an admission on his own part of his guilt.
His letters to Cyrill were read, and received with marks of disapprobation
as universal as the applauses bestowed on the letters of Cyrill. One
proof of the unchristian, fanatical passion which animated this synod .
was given in the following sally of the bishop Euoptios of Ptolemais ὃ
at the reading of these letters : ‘‘ As those,” said he, ‘‘ who counterfeit
the imperial coin deserve the extremest punishment, so Nestorius, who
has presumed to falsify the doctrines of orthodoxy, deserves every pun-
ishment both from God and man.”’* Even familiar remarks of Nestorius
and his friends, dropped in their conversations with other bishops during
their residence at Ephesus, were brought up against him and perverted.
In the vehemence into which a man of his temperament might easily
be hurried in dispute, he had remarked, when reprobating the crass-
sounding expressions of the other party, that it surely could not be
affirmed, God had been two or three months old. ‘This was so con-
strued as if he meant to deny the deity of Christ. One of Nestorius’
friends had said, that the Jews could bring suffering on the man indeed,
but not on the deity itself.’ This was regarded as an unheard-of blas-
phemy, as an attempt to justify the Jews, and to extenuate their sin.°
The synod accordingly, as they declared with pharisaical hypocrisy,
after many tears, constrained by the laws of the church, and by the
letter of the Roman bishop Ceelestin, pronounced the sentence, which
they dared to express in the following form: ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ,
1 For the purpose of reading before Nes- man from his brother and predecessor, the
torius the letter of the synod, and taking a gentle and free-minded Synesius.
note of his answer. 4Τ|, c. 1391.
2S. Harduin. Concil. T. 1. f. 1362. 5 Harduin. f. 1398 and 1399
8 Who must have been a very different
472 SENTENCE AGAINST NESTORIUS PUBLISHED.
by Nestorius blasphemed, has ordained, by this most holy synod, that
the Nestorius above named should be excluded from the episcopal dig-
nity and from the whole college of priests.””! After the synod had
passed this sentence, the bishop Rheginus of Constantia, on the island of
Cyprus, preached a discourse, which, short as it is, presents a most singu-
lar exhibition of extravagant dogmatic formulas, repugnant to all human
and Christian feelings, and even savoring of idolatry, by which it was
imagined to do honor to the living Christ ; a picture of fanaticism sacri-
ficing as well the spirit of Christ, as that of reason. On the ground of
this dispute about pitiable forms of conception, pitiable in the comparison
with Christianity, which is spirit and life, and the essence of which is
love, the victim now branded as a heretic was pronounced worse than
Cain and the Sodomites. The earth ought, of good rights, to open and
swallow him up; fire ought to rain down on him from heaven, that the
simple might see his transgression punished! The God Lagos, whom
he had ventured to sever, who had come forth in the flesh from Mary
the mother of God, would appoint for him the punishment of eternal
torments in the day of judgment. The bishop concluded his discourse
with an invitation opposed to the Antiochian creed, and consonant with
the whole tenor of his remarks, as follows: “‘ But let us worship and
adore the God Logos, who has condescended to walk among us in the
flesh, without separating himself from the essence of the Father ! ”? 2—
As if this worship of the incarnate God did not exist among the party
of Nestorius, because they expressed themselves, respecting the appear-
ance of the same incarnate God, in other dogmatic forms! Thus a
new slavery to forms of expression in religion was again to be substi-
tuted in the place of the worship of God in spirit and in truth !
Cyrill caused the above sentence of deposition pronounced upon Nes-
torius to be publicly affixed at Ephesus, and indeed to be proclaimed by
heralds through the whole city.? The bishops who had constituted that
assembly, or who formed the Cyrillian party, moreover, despatched a
letter worthy of the spirit of this party to the emperor, in which they
informed him of the sentence passed by the synod, which they affirmed
themselves to be. ‘They offered various excuses, the emptiness of
which could easily be exposed, for opening the proceedings before the
arrival of the patriarch John and his associates. They resorted to the
most abominable perversions of those familiar remarks of Nestorius
already mentioned, in order to present him in the light of a blasphemer
of the holiest things. They affirmed he had not ceased to maintain
that He who had for our sakes become man, ought not to be called
‘God; that he made the human nature which the deity had assumed
from love to man, an objection to that deity; that he ridiculed the
mystery of the divine incarnation. They prayed the emperor to com-
mand, that the entire doctrine of Nestorius should be expunged from
the churches, and that his books, by which he sought to deny the grace
of God, should be committed to the flames wherever they might be
found.
1L.c. f. 1422. 21,. ο. 1444, 8. According to the declaration of the Comes Can-
didianus. Harduin. lL. c. 1451. * Harduin. 1. ο, 1442.
ARRIVAL OF THE PATRIARCH JOHN. 473
Nestorius, and ten bishops united with him, thereupon sent another
letter to the emperor, in which they described, according to the truth,
the arbitrary and illegal proceedings of Cyrill and Memnon. They
submitted to the emperor the just petition, that he would either secure
for them a residence at Ephesus safe from injury, and order the con-
- stitution of a regular assembly ; so that none of the clergy or monks,
whether belonging to themselves or to the Egyptians, and none of the
bishops who had not been called, might be present to disturb the synod
(only two bishops from each metropolitan diocese, men competent to
enter into such investigations, were to attend the assembly with their
metropolitans ;)! or that the emperor would enable them to return back
free from peril to their churches. This demand clearly places the
party of Nestorius in an advantageous light. It is evident that they
wished to obtain the victory, not by superiority of numbers, not by vio-
lence and clamor, but by calm and rational investigation ; whereas, on
the other hand, a suspicion of the opposite kind is thereby cast on the
party of Cyrill.
The imperial commissioner was of the same mind with Nestorius; as
indeed he had at the very outset declared the assembly of Cyrill’s
party to be illegal, and contrary to the emperor’s letters warrant. He
therefore insisted that their decrees could have no legal validity ; and
in conformity with these views, he drew up also on his part a report to
the emperor, and advised those bishops who had not been present at
the Cyrillian assemblies, not to allow themselves to be forced to sub-
scribe the decrees of that body, but to wait till the arrival of the Syrian
patriarch. Candidian, on account of his intimate connection with the ~
Syrian church party, might be accused of a partiality unbefitting his
position : but it appears evident that he did not espouse the party of
any doctrinal system ; but, conformably to his office, took part, of course,
with those who most rigidly observed the forms of law. Where the
matter related to a conflict between arbitrary will and legal order, it
was the duty of his office not to remain neutral.
But his neutrality alone would appear a crime in the eyes of the
ambitious or fanatical bishops of the Cyrillian party. Still less could
they pardon it in him, that he should adopt in earnest the cause of
right, and send to Constantinople a report of their tyranny which was
according to the truth. Since, then, these people looked upon every-
thing with the eye of passion, and indulged themselves in the most
abominable perversions of words and actions, in every sort of exagger-
ation, and even falsehood; we can give no confidence to what they
report concerning the violent conduct of the man whom credible
testimony represents to us as acting uniformly on the side of order and
within the bounds of his commission.!
The bishop John of Antioch arrived at Ephesus with his companions,
as he had promised, a few days after the organization of the assembly
which had been formed by Cyrill. Although it may have been true,
1L. c. 1439. his manifestly lying letter to the clergy at
2 As is evident particularly from what Constantinople. Harduin. Concil. 1. ο. f
the bishop Memnon of Ephesus reports in 1595.
40"
VOL. Il.
414 COUNCIL UNDER JOHN. CYRILL CONDEMNED.
as was reported by Memnon bishop of Ephesus, that the Cyrillian
council had sent deputies to meet him to bid him welcome, and to
inform him of what had been done, yet these assuredly did not conduct
themselves in any way suited to make a favorable impression on him ;
and an arbitrary act like that which had just been consummated,
admitted, in truth, of no palliation. John could not be otherwise than
highly offended at it; and he was compelled, by the laws of the
church and by the doctrinal principles which he advocated, to consider
the proceedings of that council as without force, and to declare them
so. It is true that he himself did not conduct, in this case, in the true
spirit of prudence and moderation. He, with his bishops, — of whom
there were but thirty, and a few more, proceeded to form a new
council, which considered itself to be the only regular one. The
Cyrillian party found something particularly exceptionable and contrary
to order in the fact, that so inconsiderable a minority should set
themselves up as judges over so overwhelming a majority; but the
patriarch John maintained that that majority could have no weight, since
it was composed, for the most part, of bishops from Egypt and from Asia
Minor, wholly dependent on Cyrill and Memnon. Candidian considered
it his duty to present himself also before this party convention, as he
had done before the previous one. He here made report of the conduct
he had there observed: he read before them the imperial ordinance,
which was addressed to the whole council, and then immediately with-
drew. The council now passed sentence of deposition upon Cyrill and
Memnon, and excommunicated the other members who took any part
in the proceedings of that party assembly, until they should manifest
penitence and condemn the anathemas of Cyrill. This sentence
pronounced upon the two bishops they made known by posting it up
publicly; and they drew up a report of it, which was sent to the
emperor. In accordance therewith, they called upon the other bishops
to separate themselves from Cyrill and Memnon, and to unite with
them in forming a general council according to the imperial letters
atent.
But Cyrill governed the collective body of the bishops with whom
he had held the first council. Meantime the deputies of the Roman
bishop arrived, who had received instructions to proceed in all respects
according to the advice and will of Cyrill, yet at the same time to
insist on the supreme judicial authority of the Roman church. If the
synod fell into disputes, they should be mindful that it did not become
them to take any share as a party in the controversy, but to pass
. Judgment on the opinions expressed by the others.! These deputies,
therefore, stuck closely throughout to the council of Cyrill: they
requested the earlier proceedings to be read to them at one of its
sessions, and signified their approbation of the whole. So this council
1 The words of the commonitorium, which facietis. Et auctoritatem sedis apostolicse
Ceelestin gave to his legates, were as fol- custodiri debere mandamus. Ad disceptatio-
lows: Ad fratrem et coépiscopum nostrum nem si fuerit ventum, vos de eorum senten-
Cyrillum consilium vestrum omne conver- tiis judicare debetis, non subire certamen
tite, et quicquid in ejus videritis arbitrio, MHarduin. 1. ο. ἢ 1347
LETTER OF THE EMPEROR. 475
now considered itself warranted to claim for itself the authority of the
Roman bishop. On the preséntation of a complaint to this party-council
by Cyrill and Memnon, the patriarch John was in the customary form
thrice summoned to appear before it, and defend his conduct; the
penalties of the church being threatened in case of disobedience. But as
~ John declined entering into any negociations with this council, — which
he did not recognize as a regular one, but declared that, after he had
made out his report in full to Constantinople, he should merely wait
until he could receive from there leave to return home, —the council
passed sentence on him and his associates, that they should in the first
place be suspended from their episcopal and priestly functions, reserving
the whole severity of the ecclesiastical laws to be employed against
them, in case they did not alter their conduct.
Meanwhile the report of Candidian was producing the effect at
Constantinople, which, if the fanaticism and intrigue of a court party
had not stood in the way, must necessarily have resulted from it. On
the 29th of June, the emperor sent a letter to the synod drawn up
with impartiality and moderation, of which an imperial officer, the
magistrianus Palladius, was made the bearer. The emperor censured in
it the illegal conduct of the bishops, which had manifestly proceeded
from passion, yet without designating any persons by name against whom
this censure was particularly directed. He declared that he would
approve only of the result of a deliberation on the disputed doctrine,
instituted by the whole council in common. Another imperial commis-
sioner of rank was to observe the course of proceedings in company |
with Candidian, and prevent any further steps contrary to law. Until
then, no one of the bishops could be permitted to return home to his
diocese, or to visit the court.1 The emperor avowed that it was not so
much the person of Nestorius or of any other individual, as the cause
of truth, which lay near his heart.2_ The imperial messenger above
mentioned must doubtless have been charged by the emperor —so —
important seemed to him this occasion— to hasten in every way his
journey to Ephesus and his return to Constantinople ; for the answer
of the Cyrillian synod which he brought back, was dated the first of
July. These bishops defended themselves therein against the reproach
of passionate conduct; they persisted in maintaining, that Nestorius
had been rightfully deposed on account of his erroneous doctrines ;
and they accused the count Candidian of having, out of partiality to
Nestorius, given a false representation of the whole matter. A letter
of this sort, however, would produce but little effect. Candidian’s
report to the emperor, which bore on its very face the impress of truth,
furnished a ready key to explain the whole state of the case. Besides,
the count Irenzeus, who accompanied Nestorius to Ephesus, and had
shown himself there to be a true friend, and many other persons of con-
sideration at Constantinople, who were also his friends, warmly supported
his cause. Cyrill was therefore obliged to resort to other means, to turn
1 Jt is easy to see, that there were reasons for apprehending the last, particularly from
the members of the Cyrillian party. 21. c. Harduin, f. 1539.
410 DALMATIUS. HIS CONNECTION WITH CYRILL.
the balance in his favor. He could reckon upon the ignorant, fanatical
zealots among the monks of that city. Among these was an Archi-
mandrite by the name of Dalmatius, who stood in the highest consider-
ation. For eight and forty years he had never left the cell in which
he had immured himself! The emperor himself had occasionally
visited him there, to ask for his intercessions. But he had sometimes
besought him in vain—on the occurrence of earthquakes, which
frequently filled Constantinople with alarm — to leave his solitude, and
take part in the public penitential processions.1_ We may presume
that the new patriarch from the Antiochian school had already from
the first been represented to this monk, by Alexandrian influence, as a
dangerous teacher of error; for, after the arrival of Nestorius, he was
wont to say to those who visited him in his cell: ‘‘ Take heed to your-
selves, my brethren; for an evil beast has come into this city, and he
may injure many by his doctrines.” This person, then, Cyrill contrived
to rouse to action in favor of his own party and aims, by giving him an
account of the sentence of deposition passed upon Nestorius, and of
the sufferings of the defenders of the true faith on that account. This
story Dalmatius received through a letter addressed to the bishops and
monks residing at Constantinople, which a beggar brought to that city,
concealed in a hollow reed; — whether the truth was that Cyrill, as he
pretended, was obliged to resort to this shift, in order to have the letter
safely reach its destination, because the men who sought to frustrate
Cyrill’s plots took pains to intercept his communications to the clergy
and monks at Constantinople ;— or whether it was that the necessity
of employing such means was a mere pretence, contrived for the
purpose of heating the minds of his partisans by such evidence of the
oppression to which he was subjected. Might we suppose that the
bearer of the letter was no beggar, but a bishop in the disguise of one,
we should then see another motive for resorting to this species of
secret communication ;— the bearer who was to visit Constantinople
unperceived, under this disguise, would doubtless be entrusted with
the execution of other oral commissions.
This message, then, set the whole party of zealous monks in commo-
tion. Dalmatius imagined himself summoned by a voice from heaven
to come forth from his solitude of eight and forty years, in order to
save the churches from the great threatening danger. All the monks and
abbots forsook their cloisters, and, chanting psalms with alternate choirs,
marched in procession with burning torches, Dalmatius at their head,
to the palace of the emperor. A procession of this sort could not
1 Harduin. 1. ὁ. f. 1587.
21. ec. 1447. This Dalmatius was a
writer at one of the imperial bureaus, σχο-
λάριος ἐν τῇ δευτέρᾳ σχολῇ, and had a wife
and children, — when, through the influence
of a venerated monk, Isacios, he was in-
duced to become a monk. He obtained
great influence, was frequently called upon
to settle quarrels among citizens, as is told
in the Greek history of his life, published
by Banduri, in the second volume of his
imperium orientale. When the new patri-
archs entered upon their office, it was the
custom for them first to visit and pay their
respects to Dalmatius, in his cell. But
Nestorius, according to this account, had
not been admitted to him. It is easy to see
what advantage Cyrill might gain by se-
curing such an’ instrument.
HIS AUDIENCE WITH THE EMPEROR. ATT
fail to set the people all in a ferment, and to spread the alarm far
and wide, that the true faith was in imminent jeopardy; and hence
vast multitudes of the people joined the procession. The abbots were
summoned to an audience in the palace, while the crowds of monks
and of the people remained standing before it, chanting in their choirs.
~ Dalmatius addressed the emperor before a crowded court, in the same
bold and confident tone in which he was wont to converse with him.
He handed over to him the letter of the synod; and the weak emperor
said, if the case stood thus, the bishops might have leave to come from
Ephesus.. But Dalmatius complained, that of the other party, as
many as pleased were permitted to come to Constantinople: on the
other hand, whoever of the Cyrillian synod wished to come were
detained in custody. He asked the emperor, in his usual style, to whom
he would give ear, — the six thousand bishops, or one godless man ;
and got him to promise that the Cyrillian party should be permitted to
send deputies to Constantinople. When Dalmatius announced to the
assembled crowd that a favorable answer had been received from the
emperor, the whole procession, singing songs of praise from the 150th
Psalm, moved forward to a church, where Dalmatius was to read the
letter of the synod, and give an account of his audience. After
the letter had been read, the assembled people shouted with one voice,
*¢ Anathema to Nestorius.’ Also the address of Dalmatius to them
was followed by an equally loud anathema.
Upon this, the Cyrillian party sent three bishops to Constantinople ;
and it soon became evident what an ascendant influence the artifices _
of these men had succeeded in acquiring. Some who had been till
now the favorers of Nestorius, among the rest the imperial chamberlain
Scholasticus, were so wrought upon as to join the party against him ;
it being represented, by the wilful perversion of some of his familiar
remarks in conversation, that he was no longer willing to tolerate the
application of the term ϑεότοκος to Mary. Nestorius deemed it neces- _
sary, therefore, tu clear himself from these aspersions. He assured
Scholasticus, that his views on that point continued to be precisely the
same as those he had constantly professed at Constantinople ; that he con-
sidered the union of the two designations of Mary, ϑεύτοκος and ἀνϑρωπό-
τοκος, in their different references, to be the mark and badge of perfect
orthodoxy. He commended in him his solicitude for the maintenance
of the true faith. Were this—he added — but secured, he would
joyfully resign the episcopal dignity. In any such case, his friend
might regard the present letter as one in which he took leave of him ;
for glad would he be to return back to his old cloister-life, since he
knew of nothing higher or more blessed than such tranquillity. And —
well might it be that Nestorius, after so much sorrowful experience of
a turbulent, distracted, and care-worn life, sincerely longed after his
former silent and tranquil retirement.
1 The question arises, how much truth fact that several bishops, who had come to
lay at the bottom of this story;— whether Constantinople for the purpose of exciting
it was only a contrivance to inflame the disturbances, had been justly arrested.
zeal of Dalmatius, or whether it was the 21. c. f. 1587.
478 NEW INTRIGUES OF CYRILL. COUNT JOHN.
"
The Asiatic bishops who were still assembled at Ephesus had mean-
while, with a view to counteract the influence of the Cyrillian party,
prevailed on the comes Irenzeus, the old friend of Nestorius, to repair
to Constantinople with a letter with which they furnished him. He
arrived there three days after the arrival of the Cyrillian bishops ;
and must soon perceive, that the latter had been well received by the.
nobles and higher officers of state, and had been successful in their efforts
to weaken the effect of Candidian’s report. He labored earnestly to
counteract their influence at court ; he prevailed upon the emperor,
with his chief ministers of state, to grant a common audience to him
and the Egyptian deputies, and listen to the representations of both
parties. He succeeded in convincing the emperor, as he writes in the
journal of his commission, that the party of Cyril had proceeded in a
way directly contrary to law, so that the emperor was already on the very
point of confirming the judgment of the second assembly held under the
auspices of the patriarch John, and of threatening additional punish-
ments to the bishops deposed by that body. But the feeble sovereign
was the mere tool of court-parties, who were themselves in turn ex-
posed to manifold influences from without. Soon after, the physician
John, secretary? of the patriarch Cyrill, came on a visit to Constanti-
nople ; and this person soon found means of giving the whole business
an entirely different turn. Now, the different opinions prevailing at
court became manifest. Some, whose hearts were solely bent on the
restoration of quiet, desired, in order that this might be obtained in the
simplest way, that no inquiry should be made as to the right or wrong
of either party ; but that, to satisfy all parties, all three of the bishops
should be deposed. Others’ proposed that the sentences of both sides
should be annulled, and that deputies should be sent for from Ephesus
for the purpose of discovering through them the real course which
matters had taken, and of learning to which side the charge of illegal
conduct ought to be laid. Many who favored Cyrill’s party endeavored
to procure, that they themselves might be sent to Ephesus, with full
powers to inquire into the whole matter on the spot.”
The party of Cyrill, however, could not as yet obtain the victory :
the influence of the moderate class at court was still, as it would seem,
too powerful for them. For the present, the plan first mentioned was
adopted ; and an individual who would have been by no means the choice
of the Cyrillian party, since he had no disposition to serve as the tool
of a church or theological sect, John, the ministerial secretary of state,
(comes sacrarum,) was sent to Ephesus. He arrived in that city with
‘an imperial letter of commission, (sacra,) in which it was commanded,
that all the three bishops deposed by the synods should remain de-
posed ; and in which the members of the council were exhorted to lay
by their mutual strifes, that they might be prepared to return in peace
and concord to their several dioceses.
The count John faithfully maintained the position which he was
bound to maintain as a minister of the state, acting on the same princi-
1 Συγκελλός. Without doubt an ecclesiastic, as in this period physicians are not rarely
to be met with among the clergy. 2 The letter of Irenzeus. L. c. 1548.
*
HIS EFFORTS FRUITLESS. CONFUSION OF THE ORIENTALS. 479
ae
‘ples as Candidian had done,— without whose concurrence, moreover,
he took no step whatever. He first invited all the bishops to a meet-
ing in his own apartments, where he' wished to read over to them the
imperial commission. But here he became witness of a most yehem-
ent contest between the two parties.1 When the greatest part of the
day had already been spent in these disputes, he unceremoniously inter-
fered with the authority of force. Nestorius and Cyrill he removed
at once. ΤῸ the rest he read the imperial letter; and, for the purpose
of carrying it into effect, and preventing disturbances, he committed the
three deposed bishops to a respectable and safe custody. After this,
he labored in every way to restore peace between the two parties.
John of Antioch and his associates manifested at once a ready and
willing disposition for this. They were prepared to submit to the em-
peror’s decision, which approved the decrees of both the synods; and
they were inclined to come to an agreement with the other party, pro-
vided the latter would but agree to condemn the anathemas of Cyrill.
But the party of Cyrill was by no means so compliant. The person of
their leader was to them of much more importance than the person of
Nestorius to their opponents. They would listen to no terms of agree-
ment, unless the other party retracted every thing, manifested their
repentance to the synod, which they considered themselves alone to be,
and condemned, in writing, Nestorius and his doctrines. These things
the other party of course could not consent to do. As the count was
extremely anxious to convey the news to Constantinople, that he had
succeeded in getting the victory over the passions of the bishops, and of |
uniting them on terms of peace, he sought now to enter at least into
negotiations for the drawing up of a common confession of faith. But
neither would the Egyptian party be persuaded to engage in anything
of this kind.2. The Orientals had been accused, in the rumors industri-
ously circulated against them by their opponents at Constantinople, of
wishing to deprive Mary of the honor of being called ϑεότοκος. The em-
peror had expressly charged the count John to get them to declare ἡ
themselves on this point. Thus they were led to draw up a confession
of faith, in which, after distinguishing with precision the two natures
in Christ, they declared that, as confession was made of one Son of
God, one Lord, and one Christ, in the sense of a union without confu-
sion of the two natures ; so too, in the same sense,? Mary was called the
mother of God, because Christ, from the time of the conception, united
with himself the temple he had assumed.* ‘This confession of faith was
1 He says himself, in his letter to the em-
peror: Magna facta est seditio, immo pre-
lium et pugna.
2 See their own declaration, 1. ο. 1594.
3 Secundum hune inconfuse unionis in-
tellectum. See epistola Johannis, in the
Synodicon published by Lupus, (see above,)
ce. 17; Lupus opera, T. VII. f. 56.
4 There may, indeed, have been some
grounds for the assertion of the Cyrillian
synod, in their report to their partisans at
Constantinople, that, in drawing up this
ae
confession of faith, there was schism among
the Orientals themselves, as all were not
satisfied with this retention of the word
ϑεότοκος. That this was a correct asser-
tion, is evident from a letter addressed to
Theodoret by Alexander, bishop of Hie-
rapolis, who was present at Ephesus during
these proceedings, in Lupus, |. c. 94. Also
to be found in operib. Theodoreti ed. Ha-
lens. IV. p. 745. This zealous advocate of
the Syrian church doctrines sees, in the
compliant disposition which was then so
480 NESTORIUS IN THE CLOISTER.
laid before the emperor in a letter which the patriarch John wrote him
in the name of the synod.
But as the count John now saw that all his pains to effect the res-
toration of peace were defeated by the pride and passion of the Cyril-
lian party ; as he was accused by them of party proceedings, and of
dispatching false reports to Constantinople, he finally called upon the
emperor himself to send for deputies from both parties, and enter per-
sonaliy into an investigation of the whole matter.
115. proposal was adopted, and eight bishops from each of the two
parties were summoned as deputies to Constantinople. Soon after their
departure from Ephesus, Nestorius received there a letter from the
pretorian prefect, by which he was informed, in answer to his own pre-
vious letter, (see above,) that the emperor had given all the orders
necessary for his returning back, in the most convenient and desirable
manner, to his cloister. In this letter there appears no trace of an
unfriendly feeling towards Nestorius. ‘The prefect concluded by say-
ing, that with his wisdom, and treasure of inward goods, he stood in no
need of condolence. But it is plainly to be seen, that it was believed
impossible to retain him any longer in the patriarchate in opposition to
the hatred and the power of that party, which, by Cyrill’s intrigues at
court, had been formed against Nestorius among the nobles and among
the monks at Constantinople. Nestorius, weary of these harassing
cares, gladly availed himself of the conceded permission, and, in his
answer to the prefect, only commended to him the care of maintaining
pure doctrine. But the contest, which was no longer connected barely
with. the person of Nestorius, could not be hushed by his removal.
On the contrary, the rupture became now more decidedly expressed, Ὁ
when, on the removal of Nestorius, Memnon and Cyrill were again
restored to their offices.
It soon became manifest, that the feeble emperor meant to act im-
partially, but was ever hurried along from one step to another by the
Cyrillian party, which exerted its influence through the monks, the clergy,
and the courtiers. When the deputies of the two parties arrived at
Chalcedon, they were directed to remain there, and not come to Con-
stantinople, because apprehensions were entertained of a movement
among the monks. At a later period, however, the deputies of the
other party obtained leave to visit Constantinople ; while, on the other
hand, this liberty was withheld from the Oriental delegates. The
bishop of Chalcedon stood in alliance with the Cyrillian party ; and to
its deputies he gave up all the churches which they desired for the pur-
pose of holding worship in them. But the Orientals were excluded
generally manifested, the incipient intrigues
of a party who were ready to give up the
truth; and he reminds his friend Theodo-
ret, how strenuously he then resisted these
measures. Memor est sanctitas tua, quod
nec ullo pertulerim eis communicare con-
silio, de epistola, que apud Ephesum facta
est . . . . vox heec (theotocos) ad proditio-
nem et calumniam illius, qui rectam fidem
docebat (Nestoriz) inserta est.
1 The well-informed bishop, Ibas of Edes-
sa, writes on this subject in his letter to
Maris: Νεστόριος δὲ ἐπειδῆ ἐμισεῖτο παρὰ
τῆς πόλεως καὶ τῶν μεγάλων τῶν ὄντων ἐν
αὐτῇ, ἐκεῖ ὑποστρέψαι οὐκ ἠδυνήϑη. It is
certain, however, that Nestorius still had ἃ
large party in his favor in the church, as
appears fron the later events
DELEGATES AT CHALCEDON. FINAL RESULT. 481
from the churches; yet they managed to procure a suitable room,
where Theodoret preached before a large audience. The favorable
reception they met with from the people excited to a still higher de-
gree the jealousy of the ferocious monks, by whom the Orientals and.
_ their attendants were attacked with stones, several of them not escap-
ing without wounds.2 The emperor, at an audience which he gave
them at the villa of Rufianus, reproached them with having excited
these disturbances by their church assemblies. They now petitioned
the emperor to allow them the same justice which the count John had
shown at Ephesus, and to forbid the bishops of both parties from hold-
ing divine worship, until they could come to some mutual agreement.
To this the weak emperor replied : “I cannot command the bishops.”
** Well, then,”’ rejoined the bishops, ‘‘ pray do not command us.”
They found, as they declared in their letter written from Chalcedon,
the higher magistrates all committed in favor of the creed of Cyril,
having been corrupted either by his gold or by his flatteries. Pulcheria
also may have succeeded by this time in rendering her brother
thoroughly hostile to the man towards whom he had before been so
favorably disposed; so that, when the subject of his restoration was
pressed at the emperor’s privy council, the very suggestion of such a
measure appeared like high treason.* The emperor himself said: “ Let
no one speak to me of him: I have had enough of him already.” * But
the Oriental synod at Ephesus had the courage to write to the emperor,
that, although Nestorius might a thousand times flee from the turmoils
of strife, and prefer the life of a private man; yet, in order that the
faith might receive no detriment, it was no whit the less necessary that
the illegal sentence of deposition passed upon him by the party who
would introduce Cyrill’s heretical anathemas, should be annulled. As
the Oriental deputies, after five pretended audiences, saw doubtless
that their longer residence near the court would be to no purpose, they
petitioned the emperor, that at least, if an impartial mvestigation was
not to be had, they might themselves be suffered to depart from
Chalcedon, and the other bishops from Ephesus. This the emperor
granted, but by a decision which, to the Orientals, could not appear
otherwise than as an act of unjust and arbitrary will. The sentence of
deposition pronounced on Nestorius was suffered to remain valid ; but
Cyrill— who in the mean time had been allowed to visit Constantinople,
where his influence was unbounded — and Memnon, were permitted to
return to their dioceses. ‘‘Thus the Egyptian,” said the Orientals,
writing from Chalcedon, “ will have it in his power to corrupt every
one with his gifts, so as to return, after having done numberless wrongs,
to his episcopal seat, while that imnocent man can scarcely make good
his escape to his cloister.” Yet the hatred to Nestorius, and the
power of Cyrill’s party, to which the emperor himself succumbed, seems
1 See the letter of Theodoret to Alexan- slaves disguised as monks, but such as had
der, bishop of Hierapolis. Theodoret. 1. 6. once been slaves, but had become monks.
IV. 1568. 3 Defectionis notabamur. :
2In the second report to the emperor, 4 De hoc mihi nullus loquatur, specimen
they name as their assailants, servos mona- enim semel dedit. L. c. 1568.
chorum habitu indutos; i. e. perhaps, not
VOL. 11.
482 NEGOTIATIONS.
to have had far more influence upon him than any preference for the
Egyptian system of doctrines. It continued still to be his wish that
the two parties might be brought to an agreement on the disputed
points of doctrine, and that in this way peace might once more be
restored to the church. In announcing to the Cyrillian party at
Ephesus that they were discharged from the council, he gave them to
understand that if peace had not been restored, it was no fault of his;
but God would know who were to blame. He would never be induced
to condemn the Orientals, for they had been convicted in his hearing
of no guilt; as none had been willing to enter with them into any
theological investigation, — a reproach which must have been meant
for the Cyrillian party, who had avoided all discussion with the others.
The negotiations set on foot by the tribune and notary Aristolaos,
one of the great officers of state, seemed at first to be beset with many
difficulties, as the demands of the two parties were so directly opposed
to each other. The Orientals required from Cyrill a condemnation of
his anathemas; but Cyrill refused to give them up. On the other
hand, he persisted in requiring that the Orientals should approve the
condemnatory sentence pronounced on the person and on the doctrines
of Nestorius, and should consent to the ordination of the new patriarch
at Constantinople.
But much as Nestorius was disliked at the imperial court, and firmly
as all were resolved that he should not again be allowed to be patriarch,
yet there was little disposition to support Cyrill in his quarrel with the
Syrian doctrines. On the contrary, the dogmatic stiffness of Cyrill
was regarded as the cause of the continued divisions in the church,
and men were well inclined to demand that he should sacrifice his
anathemas in order to preserve the peace of the church. Cyrill was
obliged to resort to many of his wonted arts, to summon to his aid all the
influence of Pulcheria, of the chamberlains, and court ladies in his alli-
ance, as well as of the abbots at Constantinople ; he was obliged to cause
large sums of money to be distributed at court, funds which he found
it impossible to collect without burdening his churches with debt, in order
to gain over the hostilely disposed nobles, and to re&inimate the zeal
of others for his party ;! and yet, with all these intrigues, he could not
1 Cyrill’s method of proceeding in such
cases is, for the most part, disclosed by the
letter of his archdeacon and syncell, Epi-
phanius, of which letter we have spoken
before, and for the preservation of which
we are indebted to the Synodicon, so often
mentioned, c. 203. Theodoret. T. V. ep.
173. This letter is addressed to the patri-
arch Maximianus, of Constantinople. 10 is
here said, Cyrill had written to Pulcheria,
to several cubicularios and cubicularias. Et
directs sunt benedictiones (εὐλογία, pres-
ents) such as were worthy of them. An
attempt was made to gain over one of the
chief chamberlains, Chrysoretes, who was
hostilely disposed, by sending him magnifi-
cent presents, ut tandem desisteret ab op-
pugnatione ecclesiz. The patriarch of
Constantinople was requested to entreat
Pulcheria, ut iterum ponat animam suam
pro Domino Christo, puto enim, quod nune
non satis curet pro Cyrillo, ut et omnes, qui
sunt in palatio regis. The patriarch was
to give them whatever their avarice de-
manded, (so I would restore the sense ac-
cording to a probably necessary emendation
of the Latin text,) although they had al-
ready received presents enough, (et quicquid
avaritiee eorum deest, preesta 115, ananquam
non desint et ipsis diverse benedictiones,)
that Pulcheria might be induced to write
emphatically to the patriarch John, that no
further mention must be made of that god-
less man (Nestorius.) Various influential
court ladies were to be called upon to codp-
erate towards the same end. The abbot
THEIR RESULT. 483
succeed in inducing an individual to lend him any hand in pressing his
anathemas upon the other party. On the contrary, he felt himself
obliged to adopt towards them a milder language, which could not be
honorably meant on his part.?
. On the other hand, the patriarch John of Antioch was not disposed
to defend any longer the cause of Nestorius against the hatred which
ever continued to be more strongly expressed against him at the court
at Constantinople. ΤῸ maintain the more moderate Antiochian system
of faith, i.e. the doctrine of the real distinction of the two natures in
opposition to the Egyptian Monophysitism, was the point of greatest
interest with him. Cyrill now doubtless understood that it would be
necessary for him to purchase the acquiescence of the Orientals in the
condemnation of Nestorius, and their consent to the ordination of the
new patriarch Maximianus at Constantinople, by yielding something
on his own side in articles of doctrine. If the Orientals could once
be brought practically to recognize as valid the judgment pronounced
by the council of Cyrill, the approbation of the doctrinal principles on
which this judgment was based would easily follow, and by degrees,
everything at variance with the Egyptian system of doctrine might
be declared to be a Nestorian heresy. ‘The negotiations of a certain
bishop Paul of Emesa, who came to Alexandria as a deputy of the
Orientals, contributed in a special manner to bring about an agreement
which had been prepared in this way; for he himself took particular
pains to further the matter, as he was very solicitous for the honor of
being the author of peace, and for this reason promised more than he
was warranted to do by his instructors. Thus Cyrill was exempted
from the necessity of expressly recalling his anathemas; and, on the
other hand, he was induced to subscribe a confession of faith laid before
him by the bishop Paulus, which was in no respect different from that
which had been set forth by the patriarch John at the council of
Ephesus in the name of the Orientals, to vindicate their orthodoxy, (see
above,”) by which the title “‘ mother of God” was applied to Mary in
Dalmatius (see above) must protest earnest-
ly before the emperor and the chamberlains,
in the name of religion, so as to alarm their
consciences. Sanctissimum Dalmatium ab-
batem roga, ut et imperatori mandet, terri-
bili eum conjuratione constringens, et ut
cubicularios omnes constringat, ne illius me-
moria ulterius fiat. It is worthy of notice,
that even the abbot Eutyches, whose name
afterwards became so famous, and who, it
would appear therefore, was one of the tools
of the Cyrillian party, was here called upon
to act. Appended to the letter there was a
list of persons to whom presents had been
sent from Alexandria, that the patriarch of
Constantinople might see how much the
Alexandrian church had interested itself in
his cause, (for it was only in case the sen-
tence of deposition against Nestorius con-
tinued valid, that he could retain his office,)
in so much that the clergy at Alexandria
mourned over the poverty brought by these
troubles upon the Alexandrian church.
Neither should he, on his own part, be spar-
ing of the property of his church, to satisfy
the avarice of those who troubled the
church at Alexandria. The patriarch should
without delay beseech Pulcheria, that Lau-
sius might be made lord chamberlain, so
that the power of Chrysoretes might be
destroyed, et sic dogma nostrum roboretur.
Such were the artifices of episcopal intrigue.
1L. ¢. Quicquid videtur reprehensibile
esse, zelo et calore cirea Dominum nostrum
Jesum Christum, qui abnegatus sit a Nesto-
rio, dictum esse. Or that the anathemas
contained a doctrine which could not be
comprehended by every one, but only by
the more practised. See ep. 98, T. V. The-
odoret.
2 Theodoret has been named, without any
sufficient reasons, as the author of this con
fession.
484. ῬΙΒΒΑΤΙΒΕΑΟΤΙΟΝ OF MANY
the sense that two natureg were united in Christ, while each still
remained pure and unmixed in its individuality. On the other hand,
the patriarch John acquiesced in the condemnation of Nestorius, and
recognized the ordination which had been consummated by the Cyrillian
party as good and valid.
This compact, struck in the year 432, which was a mere work of
policy, and not the result of any reconciliation of doctrinal antagonisms
in a natural and harmonious manner, experienced the usual fate of
such outward and artificial combmations. In concealing the schism
which still continued to exist within, it merely served to call forth new
divisions. The men of both parties who regarded the dogmatic
interest as of greater importance than the political, were dissatisfied
with it. Cyrill was accused by the zealots of his own party of betray-
ing those doctrines which he had, till now, opposed to Nestorianism.
And not without reason; for Nestorius himself would doubtless have
been induced to recognize the predicate ϑεότοκος applied to Mary, in
the sense of such a union of the two natures as was denoted in the
confession which lay at the basis of the agreement. Cymill was
able to defend himself against this accusation, only by alleging, first,
that by severing, as he had already done before, the single positions of
Nestorius from their connection with his whole system, he made an
entirely different thing of Nestorianism from what it actually was ;
next, that he had artfully contrived to introduce into the distinction-
theory of the creed which he had subscribed, a sense remote from
that which was intended by its authors. What was said, for example,
concerning the distinction of the two natures, he explained as follows:
that it held good only of the distinction of the divine and human
predicates ; both of which, however, were to be referred to the one
incarnate nature of the Logos ; so that, in abstracto, two natures would
be, indeed, distinguished from each other; but, in concreto, only one
nature was to be recognized.!_ He attributed to the Antiochians, that
he might be able to explain himself in agreement with them, a doctrine
directly at variance with their entire system, that the one Christ
consisted of two natures distinguishable in conception, but not of two
natures distinguishable in reality.2 Cyrill again, in order to defend
himself with those who missed here the exactness of doctrinal expres-
sion, alluded to the great difficulty in general of finding suitable
expressions for such matters in human language.® But this observation
must have prevented him, if other motives and interests had not been
at work at that time, from passing so severe a judgment on the
expressions of Nestorius.
1 Cyrill, ep. ad Acacium. Ὡς ἐν ἐννοίαις
δεχόμενοι, δύο μὲν φύσεις ἡνῶσϑαι φώμεν,
μετὰ δὲ γὲ τὴν ἕνωσιν, ὡς ἀνῃρημένης ἠδὴ
τῆς εἰς δύο διατομῆς, μίαν πιστεύομεν τὴν τοῦ
υἱοῦ φύσιν.
2 'Qu δὲ γὲ κατὰ τὴν ᾿Αντιοχείαν ἀδέλφοι τὰ
μὲν ἐξ ὧν νοεῖται ὁ Χρίστος, ὡς ἐν ψιλαῖς καὶ
μόναις ἐννοίαις δεχόμενοι, φύσεων μὲν εἰρῆ-
κασι διάφοραν.
8 Ei γὰρ τισὶ δόκει τῶν λέξεων ἡ συνϑήκη
καὶ τῶν νοημάτων 7 πρόφορα τῆς ἴσχνης ἄγαν
ἀκριβείας ἀπολιμπανέσϑαι, ϑαυμάστον οὔδεν'
δυσεκφωνῆτα γὰρ τὰ τοίαδε λίων. When he
adduces, in proof of this, the words of the
prayer, Ephes. 6: 19, he shows again his
habit of confounding what properly belongs
to the simple’ preaching of the gospel, with
what belongs to the development of doctrin
al conceptions
WITH THE ARTICLES OF AGREEMENT. 485
- The same Cyrill had, at an earlier period, during the negotiations
with Aristolaus for a settlement of the differences, offered in excuse of
his anathemas which were to be censured as heretical, that he had
written what appeared so censurable, only from a glowing zeal for the
Christ denied by Nestorius (see above.) If this were honestly said,
“if it was not a mere subterfuge of theological chicanery, yet the same
could also have been alleged in this reference as an excuse for Nes-
torius. What to Cyrill appeared a denial of Christ, proceeded on the
part of Nestorius, and on the principles which he maintained, only from
a well-meant zeal for the honor of Christ, believing as he did that the
Cyrillian mode of expression involved a denial of the divine immuta-
bility. .
A till greater dissatisfaction than this which existed among the ad-
vocates of the Egyptian system of faith, was excited by the above-
mentioned agreement, among the zealous adherents of the Antiochian
scheme of doctrine. A doctrinal interest which overvalued the im-
portance of precise dogmatic conceptions, was not less predominant
among the latter than among the Alexandrians ; and the interest in
behalf of the dogmatic notions had vastly more influence with many of
them, than any sympathy which they felt in the case of their friend
Nestorius suffermg under the oppression of despotic will. As the
Alexandrians saw everywhere the spectre of Photinianism, so, on the
other hand, the Antiochian dogmatists saw everywhere the spectre
of Apollinarianism, which seemed to them to rise up again in the
system of Cyrill. To receive back Cyrill to the fellowship of the
church appeared to them as frightful an enormity, as if they should
receive into the same fellowship Apollinaris himself.! Alexander of
Hierapolis thought it intolerable, that a monk, whose life he himself must
confess was in accordance with the gospel, should be named in the
prayer at the altar as one remaining in the communion of the church ;
and he gave himself no rest, as he informs us, until this practice was
abolished.?
Among those who in the Syrian church disapproved of this coalition,
there was still manifested, however, a difference of judgment, according
as they were disposed generally by natural temperament either to mod-
eration or to extravagant zeal; and according as they had seized the
1 We have a graphic illustration of this supper. The patriarch John lay in the bed,
in a dream, which the bishop Andreas of Sa-
mosata, who also was, in the outset, a zealous
opponent of the Cyrillian treaty of agree-
ment, relates concerning himself. He dream-
ed that, in an assembly of other bishops,
his friend, the bishop Alexander of Hie-
rapolis. told him that the heretic Apollina-
ris was still living. Andreas, in astonish-
ment, asked him several times whether this
was really so, and Alexander assured him
that it was. All at once they entered a
house, where Apollinaris, now extremely
aged, lay upon a bed. And as they were
about taking their seats by the bedside, he
arose and distributed the elements of the
VOL. Il. 41*
and received the elements from his hand,
and then next Alexander himself. But
Andreas of Samosata said indignantly to
himself: “ What accommodation to circum-
stances is this? It is a sin against the
Holy Ghost. It is trifling with the incar-
nation of our Lord.” With these words he
awoke, and gave earnest expression to the
wish that this dream might not after all
prove true — in other words, that Apollina-
ris of Alexandria, who had reappeared, so
to speak, in Cyrill, might not bring over all
to his own views. Ep. 48, l. c. 706.
2 Lc. ep. 145, p. 823.
486 THEODORET AND ANDREAS OF SAMOSATA.
system of doctrine taught by Theodore of Mopsuestia in a more stern
and exclusive, or in a more mild and tolerant manner. The former,
such as Theodoret and Andreas of Samosata, were, it is true, satisfied,
on the whole, with the doctrinal explanations of Cyrill. They doubt-
less rejoiced, too, and saw in it the governing hand of divine grace,
that Cyrill had been constrained to distinguish two natures in Christ,
and to acknowledge. that his sufferings belonged to the flesh, and that
the deity was exalted above suffermg.! Although it may unquestiona-
bly be gathered from the whole process of the matter, as we have
described it, that in this case, where everything proceeded solely on
grounds of impure worldly policy, there was no occasion for such joy,
and for such praise of the divine providence ; since the supposition last
named, that the deity was capable of suffering, had indeed never once
entered Cyrill’s thoughts, and the former distinction was, in fact, merely
an outward accommodation in terms, which Cyrill employed in a different
sense from that which was intended by his opponents.
But neither in the sentence of deposition passed on Nestorius, nor in
the condemnation of his doctrines, did they believe they could acquiesce
with a good conscience. ‘So vaguely to condemn the doctrine of
Nestorius,” said Theodoret, ‘‘ was nothing more nor less than to con-
demn the doctrine of piety.”? The patriarch John had, it is true, in
his letter to the emperor, in which he declared his consent to the agree-
ment, no doubt purposely expressed himself in such a way as that he
could refer the condemnation, not to the whole doctrine of Nestorius,
but only to that which he had taught foreign from the apostolic doe-
trine ;? —in which sense, one might, indeed, unhesitatingly subscribe
the condemnation of every human doctrine. But this very indefinite-
ness in a dogmatic explanation appeared to the more rigid among the
Orientals as a dishonorable subterfuge ;* and they could the less be
satisfied with it, because they were well aware in what sense Cyrill in-
terpreted what had been left undetermined. On the other hand, Theo-
doret offered to subscribe any form of condemnation, by which men
might be distinctly placed on their guard against the charges commonly
brought against the Antiochian system of doctrine — a sentence of con-
demnation against those who divided the one Lord Jesus Christ into
two Sons, and those who denied his divinity.°
But the acquiescence in the sentence of deposition on Nestorius ap-
peared to them to be an unjustifiable wrong. It seemed to them a
contradiction to pardon the man who had been constantly sowing dis-
2 Theodoret. ep. 73,1. 6. Naturarum dif-
ferentiam clara preedicant voce, et passiones
carni coaptantes, impassibilem divinam con-
firmant esse naturam.
2 Ep. 50. Quod indeterminate anathe-
matizare Nestorii doctrinam, idem sit, quod
anathematizare pietatem.
8 Queecunque ab eo aliene ac peregrine
dicta sunt contra apostolicam doctrinam.
His words in the letter to the emperor, and
the commentary of Theodoret, ep. 128.
Anathematismus non indefinite, sed cum
quadam determinatione positus, modicam
quandam preebet consolationem.
4 See the letter of the Orientals to the
Roman bishop Sixtus, in the Synodicon,
published by Lupus, c. 117. They say of
the patriarch John: Sic et accusatione ac
demonstratione defecit, ut nec diceret, illam
sive illam anathematizo sententiam, sed ait:
quidquid ab eo impie dictum est. Dum
certe aperte dicere debuisset, ut ab eo sensu
quisque cautior redderetur.
5 Ep. 50, p. 708. -
ALEXANDER OF HIERAPOLIS. 487
cord, and who had at last with difficulty been brought to assent to the
orthodox confession, but to sacrifice him who from his youth up had
taught the same right doctrine. They declared that they could con-
sent to the unjust and wickedsentence of the holy bishop, neither with
_ hand, tongue, nor heart.! These declarations of Theodoret had, how-
ever, been so construed, as if he had proved unfaithful to the convic-
tion earlier expressed by him; as though he had yielded through the
fear of man, and to preserve his bishopric, and for this reason had ac-
knowledged the formula subscribed by Cyrill to be satisfactory. This
suspicion against Theodoret having been excited by some persons in the
mind of Nestorius himself, the former wrote him a letter in defence of
his conduct. ** Very gladly,” he said, ‘ would he lay down an office
which he found burdened with so many cares, and make his retreat to
the cloister. Nestorius, therefore, ought not to allow himself to be
persuaded, that, from love to his bishopric, he had received with his eye
shut the letter of Cyrill as in correspondence with the true faith. He
could not say otherwise, consistently with the truth, than that he had
not found anything in it which was heretical; although he, no less
than others, detested, in the author of that letter, the disturber of the
general peace. And he hoped and trusted, that on this score no pun-
ishment awaited him at the day of judgment, since the just Judge
looked upon the heart. ‘* But tothe measures,” he added, ‘ which
unrighteously and wickedly have been set on foot against you, I will
not be induced to give my consent, even though they should cut off
both my hands; for I hope that the divine grace will aid me, and |
strengthen the weakness of my soul.”
But the zealots of this party, such as Alexander, of Hierapolis, and
Meletius of Mopsuestia, were not satisfied that even so much should be
yielded as had already been done. They still persisted in demanding
of Cyrill an express revocation of his anathemas. They could see
nothing in Cyrill’s letter but his old erroneous doctrine artfully con- —
cealed. And when the above-cited letter, in which he had vindicated
himself to his friends against the reproach of denying his previous con-
victions, came to their knowledge, sufficient proof was unquestionably
furnished them, to turn to shame the triumph of the patriarch John over
the conversion of Cyrill.* As they had already, at the council of
Ephesus, declared against the unconditional application of the predicate
ϑεότοκος to Mary, 80, too, they were dissatisfied with the new application
of the term according to the articles of agreement there drawn up.
The bishop Alexander, in declaring his dissent, proceeded on the ground
of a distinction between the homoletic and the strictly dogmatical use
of language, which we have already noticed as constituting a distin-
guishing characteristic of the Syrian church-teachers. ‘ We cannot
complain,” he writes, ‘‘of those preachers who in their festival dis-
courses may have imprudently called Mary the mother of God, or the
Jews, God’s murderers, and the like ; which may have been said by
orthodox men in an unsuspicious manner ; for the very reason that it
1Ep.59. 2Ep.102. 8 See the letters of Meletius, ep. 76 and ep. 121. * Ep. 78
488 PARTY OF NESTORIUS AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
was in nowise their intention thereby to define doctrines. But it was
quite otherwise with a strict form of dogmatic expression, and espe-
cially after Cyrill, in his anathemas, had expressed the erroneous doctrine
which served to give currency to this predicate, and by the same docu-
ment had spread it far and wide.”’ These bishops, for the reasons Just
stated, not only rejected the agreement concluded upon, and not only
continued therefore to consider Cyrill as excluded from the communion
of the church, but they also excommunicated those who had received
that agreement. A whole synod, in Cilicia Secunda, passed a de-
cree of this sort; the members declaring they were ready to suffer
anything, rather than enter into fellowship with error or with the teach-
ers of error. The patriarch John might doubtless have been able, by
moderate conduct, to gain over the more mildly disposed among the
Orientals, if he had refrained from urging upon them an acquiescence
in the sentence which deposed Nestorius, — the course actually pur-
sued afterwards; but, by the vehemence with which he conducted
towards all opponents, he alienated from him even this more moderate
class.
The patriarch John took occasion, from these disputes, to indulge
himself in many encroachments on the administration of affairs in foreign
dioceses ; he furthered the promotion of unworthy men, disposed to
serve him as his instruments, to episcopal stations which he had no
authority to fill. Thus he made himself hated, and thus it was his own
fault that the party of his opponents augmented, and the worthiest
bishops of Syria withdrew from all fellowship with him. A schism fol-
lowed not only in the Antiochian church diocese, but also in other parts
of the Eastern church, which were subject to the patriarch of Constan-
tinople. The discontented from all quarters attached themselves to the
opposition party of Eastern Asia; and thus was formed an association
of bishops who stood opposed to the three patriarchs of the East. To
the same circle belonged the bishops of that portion of Syria which
touches on the Euphrates, of the two provinces of Cilicia, of Cappadocia
Secunda, of Bithynia, Thessaly, and Meesia.?
Meanwhile, notwithstanding all the pains of the Cyrillian party, the
memory of Nestorius had not been wholly effaced from the minds of
his devoted community at Constantinople. This became evident after
the death of the patriarch Maximianus in 433. In many parts of the
city, vast multitudes assembled, and with loud shouts demanded Nesto-
rius again for their bishop; threatening, unless he were restored to
them, to set fire to the patriarchal church.2, Yet such movements in
' favor of a man once hated by the dominant court party could do
him no service, but, on the contrary, only tend to excite still more the
rage of his enemies, who grudged him such love of the people. In
the manner in which the vacant patriarchate was once more filled,
appeared the influence of the party opposed to Nestorius; for that very
Proclus who had first stood forth as his opponent (see above) was
1 See the letter written in the name of these schismatic bishops to the Roman bishop,
Sixtus IL., in Lupus, 1. ο. 6.117. 2 Procli Synodica, 1. 6. 805.
INTRIGUES OF THE PATRIARCH JOHN. 489
named patriarch; and this man leagued himself with Cyrill and John
of Antioch, to enforce everywhere the recognition of the agreement
struck between the church of Eastern Asia and that of Egypt, which
had been made the basis of the peace of the church. The patriarch
John, who by this alliance obtained great power, resorted at first to
means of benevolence, to presents and pecuniary aid, for the purpose
of gaining over the poor churches of Syria, which were burdened with
debts ;! and next, where he could not accomplish his ends in this way,
he tried to intimidate by threats. All being to no purpose, he exerted
himself to procure an imperial edict against the obstinate bishops.
Already he had contrived, by bribing the quzestor Domitian, to obtain
such a decree; but those bishops whom it was wished to expel, stood
so high in the esteem of their communities, that the execution of such
measures against them might draw after it very disastrous consequences.
The pretorian prefect Taurus represented to the emperor, that the
cities would be ruined, and that the empire, otherwise (by the bad
management of its resources) growing impoverished every day, would
here also lose one source of its revenues ;? and the execution of the
imperial ordinance was therefore put off for the present. The queestor
who had obtained this ordinance for the patriarchs, in the mean time
resorted to a trick, in order to induce the Syrian bishops to yield. He
informed them that this ordinance was signed by the emperor, and was
to be published, but that he had for awhile withheld its publication, in
order to see whether they might not be induced to compliance by
arguments, before it should be necessary to resort to extreme measures.? .
At length the imperial decree against the disturbers of the peace and
the corrupters of the doctrines of faith, who employed religion as a
pretext, —by whom, however, could be meant no others than those
Syrian bishops who were opposed to the articles of agreement, — was
actually published; and men who for a long series of years, without
mingling like others in the impure worldly busimess of those times, had .
consecrated all their labors, without earthly splendor and enjoyment,
solely to their spiritual office, were now to be forcibly separated from
the communities in which they were cordially loved and respected,
because the arbitrary will of a few individuals found it possible through
the court to rule over the church.
When these threatening commands were made known to the bishop
Theodoret, he was at first resolved to forsake all, and retire to the
1 As may be gathered from the words of
the bishop Alexander of Hierapolis, ep.
143: Non habemus pecunias et munera
et naves plenas oneribus, quse mittamus. . .
Illis armatur multitudo contra veritatem.
2 Futuras ex hoc eversiones urbium, —
quod qualis est Thracia, talis et Cilicia erit,
que pzne sola remansit ad tributa solvenda,
ep. 105, 1. ¢.
8 See his letter to the bishop Helladius
of Tarsus, ep. 106.
£ In the letter which the magister militum
orientis sent to all the bishops concerned, in
order to the carrying into execution of the
emperor's command, it was said: Necesse
est, ut aut communices Joanni episcopo
catholicz ecclesix, ut ablatis contentionibus
sancta ecclesia quiete fruatur ac pace, quam
peperit, (which John introduced by means
of his articles of agreement) aut conten-
dens, formam divinitus datam (the penalty
defined in the imperial sacra) subire coga-
ris. Privaberis enim urbe, privaberis et
ecclesia, si meliori sorte obedire et assentiri
nolueris.
400 THEODORET YIELDS.
cloister in which he had received his spiritual education ; but the pious
monks of his community urged him to enter into new negotiations with
the patriarch John, so as to preserve his church without detriment to
his conscience. 'Theodoret foresaw that, if he declined to obey the
emperor’s decree, he would be forced away from the community, where
his labors were blessed, and some unworthy person would be substituted.
in his place. He considered it therefore to be his duty, so far as he
could so do without denying his own convictions and without detriment
to his conscience, to yield, in order to subserve a higher interest of the
church; and as the patriarch John released him from giving in his
acquiescence in the judgment pronounced on Nestorius, and as he him-
self had already testified his satisfaction with the doctrinal part of the
articles of agreement, he could at present with a good conscience
comply with the prescribed conditions! The patriarch John now
endeavored, through Theodoret’s mediation,? to gain over also the other
Syrian bishops; and Theodoret himself was moved, by his zeal for the
best good of the church, and his friendship for his old colleagues
involved in this controversy, to exert himself to the utmost to bring
about a general reconciliation and union. He urged his old friends
with the most pressing arguments, and among others wrote thus to the
bishop Helladius of Tarsus :% “ He assuredly ought not without good
cause to expose the flock entrusted to him to destruction: the purity .
of doctrine had certainly been secured: to participate in wrong-doing
was a thing to which they were forced by no one. The righteous
Judge would not punish them for the injustice of others. It was high
time to put an end to disputes, and to unite the churches once more
together.” But in vain were all these representations and entreaties
to the three men, distinguished for their firmness of character, Meletius
of Mopsuestia, Alexander of Hierapolis, and Helladius of Tarsus —
men whose souls, strong in faith, and superior to all human fear in
resisting the despotic caprice which would subject everything to itself,
deserve respect, notwithstanding their narrow dogmatic zeal. They
were firmly resolved not to grant Cyrill the fellowship of the church,
under any other condition than that he should revoke the system of
doctrine expressed in his anathemas, and acknowledge Nestorius as a
catholic bishop. All other yielding was the same in their eyes as to
purchase the peace of the church with the denial of the truth and the
approbation of injustice. They held it to be their duty to remain faithful,
under all trials, to the pastoral calling which had been entrusted to
them; but they believed themselves justified also to give up their
‘authority to govern, in order to remain true to their convictions. They
were men who had for a long series of years administered their office in
so disinterested a spirit, that, when obliged to relinquish their posts, and
to leave their flocks, they could take nothing with them for their
journey and for the means of subsistence, but had to depend entirely
on the charity of their friends. The bishop Alexander answered his
1 See ep. 126. Theodoret. |. c., together 4 As the bishop Alexander writes, ep.
with other letters of his in that collection. 147: Ex his qu mihi direxerunt amici
2 See ep. 103. 8 Ep. 138. habeo ad animalium conductionem.
ALEXANDER OF HIERAPOLIS BANISHED. 491
friend Theodoret after his repeated remonstrances: ‘I solemnly adjure
you by the most Holy Trinity to press me no longer ; for my hope is in
the Crucified. I am already waiting for those who are to drive me
from my place, with so great joy, that, had I any other gold besides
the utensils of the church, I would give them for that a larger present
than for any joyful tidings they could bring me. Give yourself no
further trouble therefore, but only pray for me.”
As Theodoret could effect nothing in this way, he at length betook
himself to a man, in defence of whose innocence those common friends
were in truth particularly zealous, the injured Nestorius ; and besought
him, that he would himself represent to the bishop Alexander how
sorely he failed against the law of love, in having respect solely to
what concerned himself, not to what was for the advantage of many
others; that he ought not to hesitate, if it were necessary, even to
commit a trifling sin, in order to save many from sin, and lead them to
salvation.! On the one side, we see here, in the man of moderation,
the subjective caprice of his system of morals, justifying the means by
the end, —a thing which we frequently remark among the Orientals ;
on the other, we see in the zealot the ethical severity which would not
acknowledge the principle that the end sanctifies the means. When
Theodoret failed in this way to accomplish his purpose, he begged the
patriarch John, in the most touching appeal, that he would not allow
force to be employed against the venerable man. ‘ Time,” he said,
*“‘ would soon make him more pliant; and even if this should not be the
case, yet it could do no harm; for his doctrine accorded with the faith .
of the church, and he would move on quietly in his own field of labor,
without seeking tomake any disturbance. The patriarch John would make
himself extremely unpopular, if he undertook to do anything against
the venerable old man, of whom he himself had once said, that all must
bear him; while, on the contrary, by pardoning him, he would secure
the esteem and love of all.’’? But these representations made no |
impression whatever on the patriarch, who was determined at all
hazards to enforce ecclesiastical obedience, and to restore unity to the
church. The pious old man was torn from his devoted flock. This
occasioned a universal lamentation throughout the city; the churches
were closed, and it was necessary to open them by force. Loud
complaints and reproaches were heard from all quarters against those
who had determined to deprive his flock of their old spiritual father.
Young and old, women and men, united in petitioning the imperial
governor of the province of Eastern Asia, the Comes Orientis, and
the patriarch John, to allow their old bishop to end his few remaining
days quietly in the midst of them: without him they could not live.’
The patriarch John, however, was net to be softened by such repre-
sentations. He answered the church at Hierapolis in a cold and
haughty official tone, assuring them that their bishop must attribute all
that he suffered only to his own stubborn self-will ; and he represented
1 Ep. 148. Pusillum delinquat, ut a mul- 8 See the report of the judge of the se-
to delicto czeteros liberet. cunda Euphratesia, ep. 166.
2 Ep. 150.
492 MELETIUS OF MOPSUESTIA BANISHED.
it as a great crime in him, that he refused to enter into any negotiations
with those men (the bishops) by whose prayers the world is saved.}
Yet he added, that, if Alexander would desist from his wonted pride,
and reform, he would joyfully send him back to them again.
A similar fate befell the bishop Meletius of Mopsuestia. The Comes
Titus had urged him likewise voluntarily to submit to the imperial
ordinance; he opposed to him the common argument of the entire
Christian world, — the usual argument of the party m power. As it
was God’s will that all men should be saved, it was not to be thought
of that the judgment of an individual should stand against the common
consent of all. ‘To this Meletius gave him a becoming reply: ‘“ He
was right,” he wrote to him, ‘‘in what he said concerning the divine
will; but it was evident that human will did not always accord with
the divine: for God had allowed men, endowed with a rational soul, to
be masters of their own will. And hence it had often happened, as
the history of the Old and New Testament showed, that a few men,
inspired with the right disposition towards God, had defended the truth
against the multitude. So now, too, God would not reject the few,
who clove to him with all their love, and on this account had to endure
from a multitude sworn against them, disgrace, persecution, and
exile. And pardon me,” he continued, “I entreat you, if I do not
find it in my power to deceive my own conscience. As soon as I see
the command signed by the emperor’s own hand, I shall leave the
church at once, just as I am, still praising God as before. I am ready,
through God’s grace, not only to give up the church, but even to die
a thousand deaths, rather than to sin against my conscience, in respect
of our Lord Christ.” When now the emperor’s command was put in
execution, and another bishop, whom the patriarch John had resolved
to thrust on the church, was installed im the place of Meletius, the
whole community testified their grief and sympathy. All were for
having Meletius alone for their bishop, and would recognize no other.
These commotions gave the patriarch John occasion to accuse Meletius
αὖ Constantinople as a violater of the imperial laws and a disturber
of the peace, and to propose that he should be expelled from the
whole province of Cilicia. He was banished to Melitene in Armenia,
and quietly resigned himself to his lot, which he accepted as one
ordained by a higher wisdom, and inflicted by the hand of God, for
whose cause he believed he was contending.
We will now for a moment turn aside from contemplating the further
- development of these events, in order to cast a glance at the final lot
of that pious man, Nestorius himself, who undeservedly became an
object of abhorrence to many of his contemporaries and to posterity. As
may be gathered from what has already been narrated, even the old
friends of Nestorius, though they belonged to the same doctrinal school
with him, had gone over to the side of those who pronounced upon him
the sentence of condemnation; and in the end they must persuade
themselves, in order to justify this step to their conscience, that Nes-
1 Quorum precibus mundus ipse salvatur.
SEQUEL OF THE HISTORY OF NESTORIUS. 493
torius had preached dangerous errors. But the zeal in behalf of such
a conviction, which had proceeded merely out of self-persuasion, is for
the most part wont to incline but so much the more strongly to heat
and violence. No voice of commanding influence spoke openly and
loudly in behalf of that Nestorius who became every day more hated
“at the imperial court, — the man whom the emperor Theodosius, in his
edicts, had compared with an Arius, a Porphyry, a Simon Magus.
Theodoret, and those of like mind with him, must be contented, indeed,
that they had merely been spared the necessity of signing the con-
demning sentence pronounced against Nestorius. But his enemies did
not cease persecuting him; for they grudged the honorable ease which
he enjoyed in the cloister, and the sympathy which, from time to time,
he still met with; and they dreaded the influence which he might exert
in his narrow circle, and from thence extend over a still wider compass.
The Roman bishop Ccelestinus had already, by a letter to the emperor
Theodosius, A.D. 482, called upon him to remove the man who had
been condemned by the judicial sentence of all the priests, and who
still persisted in his blasphemous errors,! from all intercourse with
society, that it might be put out of his power to lead others astray.?
This demand, however, did not as yet produce the intended effect.
Nestorius continued, for four years, to enjoy undisturbed repose and
esteem in the cloister of Euprepius, which lay before the gates of Anti-
och, only two stadia from the city. But when John and Cyrill of
Alexandria had now made it their aim to cause the sentence pro-
nounced against him to be universally recognized, it could not but be
extremely vexatious to them to be aware of his residence on such ἃ
spot, which was so convenient for maintaining a correspondence with the
whole Syrian church. By their influence, therefore, Nestorius, in the
year 435, was torn from the repose of his cloister, and condemned to
exile. By the first edict, the town of Petra in Arabia was fixed upon
as the place of his banishment.?. But this edict was not so executed.
Perhaps it was a mitigation of the punishment, that he was, instead of
this, exiled to one of the Oases, probably the great Oasis of Egypt.4
Hordes of Libyan barbarians, known under the name of Blemmyans,
falling upon this district and laying everything waste with fire and
sword, made Nestorius a prisoner. ‘hey had compassion on him, set
him at liberty with several others, and warned him themselves to leave
that place of residence, because other hordes would soon follow in their
train. Nestorius now betook himself to the town of Panapolis in Egypt,
and from thence he wrote to the prefect of Thebais. He informed him
that it was not his intention to escape, that he might furnish no occasion
for calumny: he awaited what might be determined concerning him
according to the laws. But he begged him, at the same time, not to
leave him a prey to the machinations of wicked men, lest it might be
1 In predicatione sacrilega perdurantem. 4 When Socrates wrote the seventh book
2 Ut facultatem aliquos perdendi non of his church history, he was still in that
habeat. place. Vid. Socrat. hist. eccles. VII. 34
8 The imperial edict in Harduin. Concil.
]. c. 1669.
VOL. II. 42
494 NESTORIUS IN BANISHMENT. HIS TRAGEDY.
lamented in all future times, that it was better to be a prisoner to bar-
barians than to take refuge at the throne of the Roman emperor.! But
these representations availed him nothing. Perhaps the prefect was
the mere tool of Egyptian fanaticism and blind heresy-hatred. The
old man, whose physical powers were already enfeebled by age and by
his many misfortunes, was, at the command of the governor, without
the least show of compassion, dragged about from one place to another,
by a guard of soldiers composed of barbarian allies, to the borders of
Egypt. He therefore wrote to the governor a second letter, which, to
judge from a fragment preserved to us by the church-historian Evagrius,
was composed, like the first, with dignity and composure, although the
heart of an Evagrius was so steeled by the power of dogmatic fanati-
cism, that he had no sense to perceive this, but saw in the expressions
of a dignified spirit, which had not been bowed to servility by all its
misfortunes, nothing but expressions of pride and obstinacy.2 Having
demanded of the governor, that after being so dragged about he might
at length be allowed some repose, and that his case might be reported
to the emperor, he concluded in the following words: ‘Thus I counsel
you, as a father would his son. But if you receive these words, as you
did my first, with displeasure ; then act according to your own good
pleasure, if so be that your good pleasure has more weight with you
than arguments of reason.” Amidst the sufferings of his exile, Nes-
torius enjoyed sufficient composure of mind to write a history of his
controversy, and of his fortunes resulting therefrom, especially designed
to vindicate himself against the reproaches made against him by friends
and enemies ; which work he seems to have entitled, the representation
of his Tragedy.? In this work, it would appear, he exposed, with a
vehemence of indignation which might easily be excused, the intrigues of
Cyrill; while he expressed himself with more mildness concerning others,
who, according to his own opinion, had only been deceived by Cyrill.*
1 The words of Nestorius in the frag- .
ment of his letter preserved by Evagrius in
his church history, 1. 7, are: ‘Iva μὴ πάσαις
ἐκ τουτοῦ γενέαις τραγῳδήῆται κρείττον εἷναι
βαρβάρων αἰχμαλώτων ἢ πρόσφυγα βασιλείας
ῥωμαΐκης.
2 Ὁ unde ἐξ ὧν πεπόνϑε σωφρονῆσας.
3 See the citations from it in Evagrius,
1. 1. c. 7, and in the Synodicon published by
Lupus, ὁ. VI. Lupi opera, T. VII. f. 26.
That the work bore the title of “'Tragedy ”
is reported by Ehedjesu, a Nestorian metro-
politan of the fourteenth century, in his list
of Syrian ecclesiastical writers in Assema-
ni bibliotheca orientalis, T. IIT. P. 1. f. 36.
This work of Nestorius has unfortunately
not come down to us, unless perhaps it may
be somewhere found in a Syrian translation.
But Ivenzeus, the friend of Nestorius alrea-
dy mentioned, who accompanied him as a
count of the empire to Ephesus, on account
of his friendship for Nestorius, fell into
disgrace with the emperor, lived for some
time in exile, and then, after having been
ordained by his friends bishop of Tyre, was
deposed again by command of the emperor.
This Irenzeus composed a work, full of zeal
for the cause of Nestorius, treating of the
persecutions which he suffered, and of the
history of the church in his times, which
likewise bore the title of “Tragedy.” In
this work he made use. of the history com-
piled by his friend Nestorius, from which he
often quoted. But we have to regret, that
this tragedy of Irenzeus has also failed to
come down tous. But an unknown author,
probably a North African, in the times of
the emperor Justinian, or soon after, in
writing on the controversies respecting the
three articles, of which we shall speak here-
after, has brought together copious extracts
from this work, with other important records
which he hunted up at Constantinople, all
relating to these disputes. These are con-
tained in the Synodicon, first published by
Lupus, from a manuscript in the abbey of
Monte Cassino. ‘There is another printed
copy of the manuscript in Mansi Concil.
ave
* Celestin, being an unlearned Roman
HIS DEATH. NEW ATTACKS ON THE NESTORIANS. 495
As to the manner, however, in which Nestorius ended his life, no
certain and definite accounts have come down to us. The church his-
torians of this period, who represent all the misfortunes which befell the
persecuted man as being a divine judgment on the blasphemer, here
give us rhetorical fustian in place of simple and credible history.
We now return from the personal history of Nestorius, to trace the
consequences which resulted from the Nestorian disputes.
Theodoret and his friends had, it is true, as we have already
remarked, adopted the Alexandrian articles of agreement, only with
such restrictions as to secure themselves against any violation of con-
science: but it was easy to foresee, that they would not be suffered
long to enjoy that immunity; that it would soon be declared to be a
mere subterfuge, which they had left open to themselves, so as not to
be under the necessity of renouncing Nestorianism. The new severer
measures against all the adherents of Nestorius and all so-called Nes-
torians might easily pave the way for this.
In the year 435, appeared new laws, by which it was ordained that
the Nestorians should for the future be called Simonians ; that all the
writings of Nestorius should be burnt; that those who should copy,
preserve, or read them, should be punished in the severest manner ;
and that all bishops who ventured to defend the doctrines of Nes-
torius should be deposed. ΑἹ] meetings of Nestorians for divine wor-
ship were strictly forbidden. The tribune Aristolaus was a second
time sent to the Antiochian church diocese, for the purpose of seeing
these laws carried into execution, and of enforcing everywhere the con-
demnation of Nestorius and of his doctrines.?- Many bishops, who until
now had acceded to the articles of agreement only under the above-
mentioned limitation, submitted to these new ordinances. Others, as
Theodoret, remained firm by their former declarations; and Cyrill
therefore accused them before the patriarch John and the tribune
Aristolaus, as men who had adopted the articles of peace only ἴῃ ἃ
deceitful manner, and as being secret Nestorians.? In general, Cyrill
was already making preparations, by degrees, to condemn, under the
name of Nestorianism, everything which was opposed to his own system
of doctrine ; although he did not as yet come out openly with this
bishop, he excused on the grounds that he
could not possess any exact insight into
doctrines, desir plichsiee quam qui posset
vim dogmatum subtilius penetrare,) and
that he had suffered himself to be deceived
by the garbled quotations of Cyrill. Nes-
torius moreover acknowledged here, that it
was himself who first proposed the assem-
bling of a synod at Ephesus; a step, how-
ever. for which he was reproached by his
friends. In answer to the charge that he
made Christ a mere man, he appeals to the
fact, that, immediately after his ordination,
he got a new law to be passed against those
who maintained this, as well as against
other heretics. Nestorius, then, here avows
himself as the author of the severe law
against the heretics, which appeared in the
very year in which he entered upon the
patriarchal dignity, in the year 428, and is
to be found in the Codex. Theodosian. 1. 16,
Tit. V. 1. 65.
1 Evagrius cites words of a church-histo-
rian, who says that Nestorius, after his
tongue — no doubt in punishment for his
blasphemies — had been gnawed away by
worms, went to the greater eternal punish-
ment of another world.
2 Cyrill. ep. 166 to Aristolaus, decretum,
per quod precipitur, ut universi episcopi
orientis anathematizarent impium Nestorium
et omnes ejus contra Christum blasphemias
dicere Simonianam seu Nestorianam heere-
sin; and ep. 179 to the same.
8 Cyrill. ep. 180.
496 CYRILL’S MOVEMENTS OPPOSED.
project. Already he denounced those who condemned the doctrines
of Nestorius only in appearance, without actually renouncing them.
Nestorianism, he asserted, did not consist alone, as some pretended, in
refusing to call Mary the mother of God.t
In the next place, what men called Nestorianism was, in fact, substan-
tially nothing else than the doctrines of Diodorus of Tarsus and of Theo-
dore of Mopsuestia.. The defenders of Nestorius and of his doctrines
boasted, not without good reason, of being disciples of the great Theodore.”
When therefore the Cyrillian party aimed at the total supplanting of Nes-
torianism, they believed their object would be completely accomplished
only when the doctrines of Diodorus and Theodore should be condemned
at the same time, as the proper fountain of Nestorianism. To Cyrill it
very rightly appeared like a contradiction to condemn the doctrines of
Nestorius, and to defend those of Theodore, who set forth the same, often
in far harsher terms. In the veneration paid to those two Syrian fathers,
he saw only a pretext under which Nestorianism, while it was nominally
condemned, might still continue to be defended.? But it was a most
difficult undertaking to induce the Syrian clergy, who had been accus-
tomed, from their youth, to name those men with the greatest reverence
as the fathers and teachers of the church, to appove a decree by which
they were publicly condemned. ‘True, the partisans of Cyrill among
the Syrian monks and clergy, and a certain bishop, Rabulas of Edessa,
who had joined them, made trial of carrying through such a sentence
of condemnation: but the general and determined resistance which
they experienced, proved how impracticable any project of this kind
still was in the Syrian church at large ; and the opposition called forth
thereby contributed to the formation, from the Syrian church, of an
independent Nestorian church-party in Persia, concerning the rise of
which we shall speak more particularly in a separate section.
A certain abbot, Maximus, who was one of the most violent opponents
of Nestorianism, excited in the Syrian church, by a project of this sort,
the greatest indignation even among the laity, among whom the charac-
ter of those men stood in the highest veneration. In the midst of the
assembled communities, the cry was heard, ‘“ Long live the faith of
Theodore! We believe as Theodore believed,’? —and in the Anti-
ochian church, stones were thrown at that abbot. The Cyrillian party
made one more attempt to enforce, by means of the emperor and the
patriarch Proclus, the condemnation of those Syrian church-teachers ;
as indeed Cyrill himself, when he sent to the emperor his explanation
of the Nicene creed in opposition to Nestorianism, had invited him to
attempt this, at least in an indirect manner, having in his accompany-
ing letter described Diodorus and Theodore, in the harshest expressions,
1 See ep. 179 to Aristolaus, and ep. 167
to John.
2 See, for example, the language of the
bishop Meletius, ep. 152, opp. Theodoret.
T. V. p. 832. Fidem apostolicam et a pa-
tribus traditam, quam a magno Theodoro
accepimus.
8 See the letter of Cyrill to the bishop
Acacius of Melitene, opp. T. V. P. II. f. 197,
where he says of the Orientals: Ὕποπλατ-
τόμενοι yap τὰ Neoropiov pice, ἑτέρῳ πώλιν
αὐτὰ συγκροτοῦσι τρόπῳ, τὰ Θεοδώρου ϑαυ-
μαζόντες, καίτοι τὴν ἴσην, μάλλον δὲ χείρονα
νοσοῦντα δυσσεβείαν.
* See Cyrill’s letter to Acacius, bishop of
Melitene, p. 197.
THEODORE DEFENDED BY THE SYRIANS. 497
as being the fathers of those blasphemies, and declared that under their
name Nestorianism was revived.! But the patriarch Proclus was never-
theless too prudent, and too decidedly the friend of peace,? to be
willing, for the sake of gratifying the passions of zealots and the am-
bition of Cyrill, to cast the church into new turmoils, the consequences
- of which could not be estimated, and which could be more easily
excited than quelled. He endeavored, while it was yet time, to
check the violent commotions which were already on the point of
breaking out. ,
The Armenian church having requested him, on occasion of these
disputes, to give his own judgment, he addressed to them a dogmatic
exposition, which acquired great authority in the Greek church.?
With this, he united certain anathemas on several propositions akin to
Nestorianism, which were supposed to have been drawn from the writ-
ings of Theodore, but in which he had wisely omitted to mention the
author by name. Yet the deputies who were the bearers of this letter
of the patriarch to the Syrian church, one of whom was the above-men-
tioned zealot Maximus, did not exercise the same prudence. On the
contrary, the opportunity was welcome to them by which they were
enabled, under the authority of the patriarch of the imperial residence,
to demand the condemnation of the propositions of Theodore ; and they
took the liberty, therefore, of affixing his name to them. As the pro-
positions now appeared under the name of Theodore, the proposal to
subscribe these articles of condemnation was received, in the Syrian
church diocese, with the most violent indignation. The patriarch
John of Antioch wrote to Cyrill, that the bishops of this district would
prefer to be burned, rather than to approve the condemnation of Theo-
dore.* The bishops of the Antiochian patriarchate, assembled at Antioch,
sent the most emphatic letters as well to the emperor as to the patri-
archs Proclus and Cyrill. They declared that they could not possibly
consent, for the sake of such isolated propositions, torn out of their
proper connection, —just as, by a like proceeding, propositions which
seemed not a whit less revolting might be extracted from the writings
of the most venerated fathers, — to condemn after his death so great a
church-teacher, who had so manfully contended for the defence of pure
doctrine against so many errors. But even were it possible for them
to be induced to such a step, yet they would meet the most determined
resistance from their communities, who even now were ready to
revolt at these proposals.® In their letter to the emperor, they express
themselves with just indignation against the idea of condemning, after
their death, men who to the close of their lives had served the church
in the best: possible manner. By such a course, no church-teacher
could be safe ; for, as all were men, it was impossible that they should
1See this letter of Cyrill, opp. Theodo- dressed to the patriarch Proclus, in Facund.
ret. T. V. p. 854. Hermianens. defensio trium capitulorum,
2 See Socrat. hist. eccles. VII. c. 41. 1. VIII. at the beginning, opp. Sirmond. T.
8 Procli Tomus ad Armenos. II. ed. Venet. f. 460, and all that remains to
* See the letter of Cyrill to the patriarch .us of the transactions of this Antiochian
Proclus, opp. 1. ο. f. 200. council, in Mansi. concil. T. V. f. 1182
5 See the fragment of this document ad-
VOL. I. 2"
498 CYRILL’S NEW PLOTS, AND DEATH.
escape the censure of those who took pains to hunt up whatever was
bad in them: indeed the declarations of the holy scriptures them-
selves were in various ways perverted by teachers of error.' Proclus
wrote hereupon to the patriarch John, that it had never entered his
thoughts to condemn any man who had died in the communion of the
church. He severely upbraided his deputies for overstepping the
powers which had been entrusted to them; and he commanded them
to take no step without the knowledge and approbation of the patriarch >
John, and, to do all in their power to appease those commotions. The
emperor himself issued an ordinance, (sacra,) addressed to the synod
assembled at Antioch, in which he forbade everything which had been
undertaken to disturb the peace of the church in those districts.2 Even
Cyrill thought it best at length to yield to the storm. In a letter to
the patriarch Proclus, he declared that, to avoid disturbances, it was
perhaps best to proceed no further, as the object to be accomplished
was, after all, not so important ; for, by condemning the blasphemies of
Nestorius, the kindred blasphemies of Theodore were in like manner
also condemned. If Theodore were now living, and should persist in
defending the blasphemies of Nestorius, or the things which he himself
had written, the condemnation would reach also to himself personally.
But as he had already gone to God,3 it was sufficient, if nothing further
was done than to condemn the false doctrines which were to be found
in his writings, without mentioning his name.*
Yet although he must have been sensible, that a public condemnation
of the writings and doctrines of Theodore could, under these circum-
stances, in no wise be enforced, yet his polemical zeal was not suffered
to grow cool. He composed a work under the title, ‘‘ There is but one
Christ,’”’ against the doctrine of Theodore, in which work he accused
him of having written a great deal which savored of the most extreme
impiety, —of having denied the true deity of Christ, and of having
made Christians the worshippers of a man.° After such attacks upon the
venerated teacher of the Syrian church, the Syrian church-teachers
could not, of course, remain silent. Theodoret felt himself constrained
to defend the memory of his instructor against these attacks ; and, as we
may gather from the fragments of this work,® he indulged himself in
the same violence, and the same unwarrantable imputation of conse-
- quences, as his opponent had done.
Thus this new contention served but to excite afresh the rupture
between the Alexandrian and the Syrian church. If we may trust to
an ancient account, Cyrill was already laying the foundation of new
plots against the Syrian church-party, which he so much hated, and was ᾿
laboring to carry through his designs at the court,’ when by his death, in
the year 444, the church was delivered from this threatening danger.
1 Fac. Herm. 1. c. 1. VIII. ο. 3. 5th. act of the second cecumenical council
2 The sacra in Facundus, ]. ο. 1. VIII.c.3. of Constantinople. Harduin. Concil. T.
8 Ἐπεὶ δὲ ἀπεδημῆσε πρὸς Oéov. A re- III. f. 107.
markable expression in the mouth of Cyrill, 6 Which are preserved to us in the Latin
who made no scruple of condemning Nes- translation, in the Collat. V. of the 1].
torius to hell. : cecum. Concil. Constantinop. Harduin. Con-
* See opp. Cyrill. f. 200. cil. T. ILI. f. 107.
5 See the extracts from that work in the 7™ This may be gathered from the words
THEODORET’S LETTER ON THIS OCCASION.
499
The death of Cyrill, however, served, only for the first moments, to
promote the restoration of tranquillity in the Oriental church.
What
had been done during the episcopal administration of Cyrill, the man-
of Theodoret, in his well-known letter to
the patriarch of Antioch, on Cyrill’s death ;
ep. 180, in opp. Theodoret. Somniavit
enim, sicut dicunt, et regiam urbem perttir-
bare, et piis iterum dogmatibus repugnare et
tuam sanctitatem accusare, utpote ea co-
lentem. Yet this letter is by many, since
the time of Tillemont, (note 80 to his life
of Cyrill, Memoires T. 14.) considered spu-
rious, but for reasons which to us do not
carry the force of conviction, and of which
many derive their weight merely from the
Catholic point of view at which Tillemont
stands. ‘That Theodoret should speak after
this manner of Cyrill’s character and of his
death, cannot appear.so surprising to those
who without prejudice contemplate Cyrill
and his relations to Theodoret. The sport-
ive description of Cyrill’s voyage to the
world below is not to be reckoned a very
strange thing, even in Theodoret ; when, for
instance, in allusion to Lucian’s dialogues
of the dead, he says: Leetificavit quidem
superstites illius discessio, contristavit vero
forsitan mortuos, et timor est, ne preegrava-
ti ejus conversatione, iterum ad nos remit-
tant, vel illos effugiat, qui eum abducunt.
For this reason, he says, it might be, that
the patriarch had ordered a huge stone to
be placed on his grave. In the world be-
low, there was no further occasion to fear
danger from Cyrill’s doctrines: not only
those who were well informed in such mat-
ters. but even Nimrod and Pharaoh, would
be disgusted with them, and stone him.
Any person who attempted to fabricate a
letter under the name of Theodoret, would
hardly have represented him as discoursing
in so sportive and heathenish a style. He
would rather have put into his mouth ear-
nest denunciations in the language of the
Old Testament. An allusion of this kind
to Lucian’s dialogues of the dead is much
rather in the character of Theodoret, who
was doubtless well versed in the study of
the ancients. But as in this sportive style
there is to be detected no mark of bitter-
ness or of revenge, so in the conclusion of the
letter we find expressed the spirit of Chris-
tian charity, by which Theodoret was actu-
ated, and which any person who, from
motives of doctrinal interest, had interpo-
lated a letter of this sort, would have found
it difficult to imitate. For instance, after
remarking how troubled his friends were
with the thought that Cyrill was still to the
last plotting evil, he adds: “May it be so
ordered, by your prayers, that he may ob-
tain mercy and forgiveness, and that the
unmeasured grace of God may prevail over
his wickedness.” Tillemont supposes that
the objections which Theodoret makes* in
this letter to Cyrill’s system of faith are
inconsistent with his mode of expressing
himself with regard to Cyrill’s doctrinal
explanations in those articles of agreement.
But these observations of Theodoret refer
simply to the manner in which Cyrill had
expressed himself in that confession of
faith. From the later declarations of Cyrill,
in his work against Theodore, Theodoret
must doubtless have known, that no change
had really taken place in the views of Cyrill;
and in his “ Refutation” he had in fact
repeated the charge of Apollinarianism and
similar complaints against Cyrill. Neither
does the manner in which Theodoret de-
clares himself, in his eighty-third letter to
Dioscurus respecting his relation to Cyrill,
and especially respecting those writings of
his which do not relate to the above-mention-
ed doctrinal ditferences, stand so directly at
variance with the remarks in this letter. [Ὁ
1s only necessary to pay some regard to the
difference of circumstances, and to remem-
ber that the above letter was written in con-
fidence to a friend, while this was intended
for publication, and expressly pointed against
the hostilely disposed official adherents of
Cyrill; to which we must add, that the Ori-
entals, according to their theory of the
οἰκονομία, allowed themselves in many lib-
erties, not to be reconciled with the strict
laws of veracity.
But, if Theodorét really speaks of Cyrill
in this letter as having died prematurely, it
certainly could not have come from the
hand of a contemporary, who must have
known that Cyrill reached a good old age.
But the reading by which he is made to say
this cannot be correct, if for no other rea-
son, because what is so expressed stands in
manifest contradiction with the substance
of the commencing words of the letter.
The correct reading is evidently that of the
Codex Paris: Illum vero miserum εἰ ad;
for this sense is required by the commencing
words, while, in what follows, et may also be
substituted instead of sed; or sed, which
fitly marks the antithesis, may even be re-
tained.
Finally, it would indeed be an anachro-
nism, if this letter were addressed to the
patriarch John of Antioch; but the entire
contents of the letter are best suited to his
successor Domnus, and we have only to
suppose that the two names were confound-
ed in the Latin translation, the only form
in which this document has been preserved.
Concil. acumen. V. Collat. V.
The fragment of a sermon which Theo-
doret is said to have preached after the
death of Cyrill at Antioch, 1. c. Harduin.
IIL. 139, has external evidence for its genu-
<~
δ00 DIOSCURUS, CYRILL’S SUCCESSOR.
ner in which the disputes had been composed, contained in itself the
seeds of new disorders ; and to bring these to a violent outbreak, the
footsteps of Cyrill were followed by his successor Dioscurus, a man of
unbounded ambition, and of an irascible, boisterous temperament, who
was ready to adopt any means to accomplish his purposes ; bribery,
court intrigue, and deeds of violence of every sort.1 This person once
more resumed the plan which Cyrill,» who had only yielded to circum-
stances, never lost out of view, to make the system of doctrine involved
in the anathemas, with regard to the one nature of the God-man, domi-
nant in the whole Eastern church; and, hke Cyrill, he would very
gladly have procured for the Alexandrian church, as a truly apostolical
one, founded by Mark, the highest authority in the Kast, and particu-
larly have elevated it above the patriarchate of Constantinople, which
was represented to have grown up merely out of secular privileges.”
Wanting the cunning of Cyrill, which paid more regard to circum-
stances, he was the more inclined, where he stood in alliance with the
dominant power, to resort to violent and unceremonious modes of pro-
ceeding, in which all forms and legal order were utterly disregarded.
He needed here, then, for the present, only to go on, according to the
system of his predecessor, and to stigmatize all that answered to the
more moderate Antiochian system of faith, all that went on the dis-
tinction of the two natures in concreto, or which had any bearing on
this, as Nestorian heresy. Hence, the Syrian churches, in which Theo-
doret stood particularly prominent on account of his zeal for the defence
of this doctrinal system, would be the first object of his attack.. And
ineness still more decided; being cited al-
ready by Marius Mercator. But the internal
evidence would seem to be more strong
against its authenticity than in the case of
the letter we have just considered; for it
exhibits rather the older and sterner form
of the Antiochian scheme of doctrine, as it
had been first taught by Theodore, than the
more moderate shaping of it by Theodoret,
especially as it was held by him after the
Nestorian controversy. And the exclama-
tions of triumph at the final victory of the
pure doctrine, the expressions of joy at the
consequent union of the Syrian and Egyp-
tian churches, — oriens et /Kgyptus sub uno
jugo est, — these expressions do not seem in
accordance with the prospects which would
be anticipated by Theodoret after Cyrill’s
death, or with the solicitude which he him-
self evinces in the letter above mentioned.
But, on the other hand, it is certainly not at
all probable, that one who had before him
the history of the next succeeding years
would attribute to Theodoret such language
as he is here made to use. And the exag-
geration of rhetorical polemics requires
many grains of allowance.
1 By the complaints of several of his
clergy, whom he had persecuted at the coun-
cil of Chalcedon, (see Concil. Chale. act.
1Π. Harduin. ILI. f. 322,) a very unfavora-
ble light is thrown on the character of Dios-
curus, in relation to his avarice, his. embez-
zlement of moneys designed for the-churches
and for the poor, the persecutions which he
practised: with the assistance of the most
powerful men of the court, as well as in
relation to other immoralities.. Thus, for
example, he is said to have collected togeth-
er the grain which the emperor was in the
habit of sending to the communities of the
unfruitful districts of Libya, in times of
barrenness, which he sold at a high price,
and appropriated the money to his own use.
True, we ought not to give:too much weight
to such accusations against eminent bish-
ops, who had made themselves hateful to a
party in these times of violent. passions ;
but, compared with what we otherwise know
for certainty respecting the behavior of
Dioscurus, many of. these charges would
seem more worthy of credit.
2 Theodoret. says of him, ep. 86: "Ava
καὶ κάτω τοῦ μακαρίου Μάρκου τὸν Spovov
προβώλλεται. He therefore objects to The-
odoret, that taking part with a synodal let-
ter sent by the patriarch Proclus from Con-
stantinople, he recognized the primacy of
the Constantinopolitan church in the East,
and had thus betrayed the privileges alike
of the Antiochian as well as of the Alexan-
drian church.
CYRILL’S OLD PARTY. 501
EUTYCHES.
here he found a foothold in a party of clergy, and particularly of monks,
who constituted a formidable opposition to the prevailing system in the
Syrian system of faith, and who had already stood in intimate connec-
tion with Cyrill, and had been used by him as spies and creators of dis-
turbance in the Syrian church. A certain abbot Barsumas stood at the
head of this faction.
Next, he had an influential party at Constantinople, composed of those
abbots and monks who had already served as the instruments of Cyrill
in paving the way for the downfall of Nestorius. ‘They were for the
most part men destitute of scientific culture, who, for that very reason,
would be most likely to fall in with the formulas of the Alexandrian
system, as they proceeded rather from the language of feeling than
from that of the understanding ; whereas the Antiochian theory of dis-
tinction, on the contrary, presupposed an understanding versed in the
discrimination of conceptions, and sensible of the need of it ; and noth-
ing of that kind was to be found among them. Many of these people
perhaps had not even sufficient theological education to be able duly to
apprehend the Alexandrian system in its whole coherence and its whole
logical evolution : but its main’tendency everywhere to give prominence
to the ineffable, the inexplicable, the incomprehensible, was also their own ;
and the forms of expression which were the results of this system coin-
cided also with their favorite expressions. ‘‘ We hold fast to that which
the scriptures declare,” so this people were accustomed to talk: ‘ the
scriptures declare, ‘The Word became flesh.” This means more than
that he assumed human nature. In becoming flesh, he assuredly under-
went no change. He is the same; but that is the inexpressible wonder ;
and every human attribute is to be ascribed to this God who became
flesh. God was born; God suffered; there is abody of God. The how
is what no reason can explain. The way in which this took place is
known to God alone. We should not desire to know any more than
what scripture reveals. All further inquiries and explanations are dan-
gerous to faith.’ “‘ With God all things are possible : God accomplishes
everything according to his own good pleasure, and in a way known to
himself alone.”” Such was the reply, constantly repeated, to all difficul-
ties which might be proposed to them.!
At the head of this party, amony the monks of Constantinople, stood
the abbot and presbyter Eutyches, — one of those who, for a long series
of years, lived shut up in their cloisters, and had but once left them,
that they might publicly raise their voice in behalf of the Cyrillian
council at Ephesus and against Nestorius. See above.”
Under these circumstances, the
1 This people’s way of thinking and rea-
soning: are graphically described by Theo-
doret, in the person of Eranistes, particular-
ly in the first of the three dialogues bearing
this title; which agrees with the declarations
of Eutyches at the council of Constantino-
le.
ῬῸ When Eutyches declined to appear per-
sonally before the council of Constantinople,
disputes could not fail to break out
under the pretence that for many years he
had not been wont to leave his cloister, he
was reminded of what he had done during
the Nestorian controversies: Εἰ γὰρ τότε
Neoropiov ἐναντιοῦμενου τῇ ἀληϑείᾳ, ὑπὲρ
ἀληϑείας εἰσῆλϑε, πόσῳ μάλλον ὀφείλει νῦν
ὑπὲρ τῆς ἀληϑείας καὶ ὑπὲρ ἑαυτοῦ εἰσέλ-
Yew? Concil. Chalcedonens. act. I. f. 150
Harduin. Concil. T. 11.
502 THEODORET OPPOSES EUTYCHIANISM.
anew. Those monks at Constantinople had, as we saw already in the
case of the Nestorian controversies, great influence with the emperor ;
they stood closely connected with those of like disposition among the
Syrian monks; and, by the reports which these latter furnished them,
their zeal was still more inflamed against the revived Nestorianism.
Accordingly they complained aloud at the renewed error of those who
divided the one and only Christ into two Sons of God.!
Though Theodoret loved peace, and did all that lay in his power to
preserve a good understanding even with the patriarch Dioscurus,? still
his zeal for what he knew to be the truth did not allow him here to be
silent ; for he saw here the effort to spread abroad doctrines by which
the immutability of the divine essence was infringed on, the true
humanity of Christ denied, and the doors were thrown wide open for
Docetism, Gnosticism, and Apollinarianism, in the mode of apprehend-
ing the doctrine concerning the person of Christ. Beyond question,
it was a rash habit of imputing consequences which led men to imagine
that they could find all these heretical tendencies in the rude and
exaggerated expressions of these untutored zealots of Constantinople ;
but there were doubtless good reasons to fear, that, if such sensuous
forms of expression should once supplant the more accurate dogmatic
terminology, those false doctrines and tendencies would easily find in
them a point of attachment. And it might actually be the case that
many among those people were led by their fears to attribute too much
to the human element in the life of Christ, and, from want of mental
cultivation, fell into the undeveloped form of doctrine which, before the
more accurate determinations had been occasioned by means of Ter-
tullian and Origen, had prevailed in the church. Theodoret, in the
year 447, believed himself in duty bound, in a work written on purpose,
. to controvert the whole Eutychian-Egyptian type of doctrine ; and, in
in opposition to it, to unfold and defend the more mild Antiochian sys-
tem, according to which the one only Christ consists of two natures
ever to be distinguished in respect to their individualities, united with
each other in a personal unity, without confusion and without transform-
ation.? Theodoret showed here, that he found no difficulty in transport-
ing himself into the mode of thinking and the point of view of the
Eutychian,t whom he introduces speaking under the name of the beg-
gar, (ἐρανιστης,) and that he understood how to distinguish these views
themselves from the consequences flowing from them when consistently
earried out. He purposely cited, in this work against his adversaries,
1 See e. g. Theodoret, ep. 82 and ep. 101.
2 See his ep. 60 to Dioscurus.
8 His work entitled ἐρανιστῆς or πολυμόρ-
φος, the Beggar or the Multiform; because
he accused this new heresy of collecting
together by begging so many scraps from
divers old erroneous doctrines, that a new
one had grown up which bordered closely
on several of the older heresies. This work
is divided into three dialogues: in the first,
hence denominated ἄτρεπτος, he treats of
the immutability of the divine essence; in
the second, ἀσυγχύτος, of the distinctness
without confusion of the two natures ; in the
third, ἀπαϑῆς, of the incapability of suffer-
ing pertaining to the divine nature.
4 We employ this designation here orly
for the sake of brevity, and to express the
thing by a single word, though an honor
is thereby ascribed to Eutyches to which he
is not entitled ; namely, that a new and pe-
culiar doctrinal tendency had proceeded
from him as its author.
NEW DISTURBANCES. 503
such authorities alone as were recognized by themselves ; passages, for
instance, from the writings of Cyrill of Alexandria; and he abstained
from quoting those church-teachers who were suspected by the oppo-
site party, however much importance he attached to them himself ; —
such, for instance, as Diodorus and Theodore. The moderation which
Theodoret here displayed, drew upon hin, it is true, many reproaches
from the zealots of his party.1 But by this moderation, however, the
entire party of those who were zealous for the doctrine of one nature
in Christ could in nowise be conciliated : they saw in this mode of repre-
sentation, on the contrary, nothing but a revived Nestorianism.
Dioscurus accused Theodoret before the patriarch Domnus of Antioch,
that, as had been reported in Egypt, he had, in sermons preached there,
taught a doctrine whereby the one Lord, Jesus Christ, was divided
into two Sons of God ; and he afterwards published a rude letter to Theo-
doret himself, in which he accused him of teaching false doctrines. Theo-
doret replied in a letter to Dioscurus, written with great moderation
and forbearance. He begged of him that he would not listen to the
representations of one side only, but that he would examine the matter
calmly and without prejudice. He endeavored, by clear and accurate
explanations, to ward off the charges with which he had been assailed.
He drew up a full confession of faith, in which he adopted the Egyptian
forms of expression, qualified by certain precautionary remarks, as
closely as he was able, without doing violence to his own doctrinal con-
victions ; and concluded with pronouncing sentence of condemnation on
those who refused to call Mary the ϑεότοκος, and on those who called
Christ a mere man, or divided the only-begotten into two Sons.2 But
Dioscurus received Theodoret’s overtures of peace in bad temper. He
allowed monks to come forth publicly, while he was present in the church,
and pronounce the anathema on Theodoret ; and he himself sanctioned
the act.2 He sent deputies to Constantinople, with instructions to
accuse before the emperor the whole church of Eastern Asia, as being
infected with Nestorianism. Hence, Domnus was under the necessity
of sending a mission to Constantinople for the purpose of defending his
church. And Theodoret wrote, in defence of himself, to influential
men in church and state at the imperial residence. Now it is true
that no new investigation or new decision followed these controversies.
But still we see how much could be effected by the influence of Dios-
curus ; for an imperial decree made its appearance, directing Theo-
But
1 See his noble letter to the bishop Irenz-
us, ep. 16. He says there that the only
thing of real importance was to hold fast
to those conceptions which are requisite for
the unfolding of the truth, and that men
ought to avoid terms which excite contro-
versy. He expressed it as his wish, that
the whole controversy on the word ϑεότοκος
had never arisen, ὁτε περὶ τουτοῦ πάσα ἡ
διαμάχη γεγενῆται, ὡς οὐκ ὠφέλεν. Tlis con-
science bore him witness, that he had sub-
mitted to this accommodation, not for the
sake of worldly aggrandizement, not through
any desire of the episcopal honor, which
had occasioned him so much trouble.
it was his aim, neither to say nor to do any-
thing to please this man or that man, but
to edify the church of God, and to please
its bridegroom and Lord.
2 Ep. 83.
8 See Theodoret, ep. 86 to Flavian, and
ep. 113 to the Roman bishop, Leo the
Great. He says in the latter, that this took
place a year previous to the second Ephe-
sian church assembly, therefore in the year
448.
4 See Theodoret, ep. 92.
504 EUTYCHES. EUSEBIUS OF DORYLEUM.
doret, inasmuch as he was constantly assembling synods at Antioch,
and disturbing the faith of the orthodox, to keep quiet within the bounds
of his own diocese, without stirring beyond its limits, or visiting any
other city. Very justly might Theodoret complain of this arbitrary
and inequitable proceeding, by which, without being allowed the right
which even a criminal enjoys, he was condemned unheard. All he
asked for was a calm and legal investigation of his case! Yet this
was but a prelude to the more violent outbreak of these disputes in the
vicinity of the court itself. Events here ensued which were at bottom
connected with what had transpired in Syria ;— events which in the
outset announced an altovether different issue of the Nestorian contro-
versies, and from which the Syrian bishops, who were not sufficiently
acquainted with the state of things at the court in Constantinople, were
hoping that a favorable turn would be given to their cause,? but which
were in fact destined to serve the very end of introducing from a foreign
quarter a sudden and violent decision of the contest.
In the first place, an attack coming from another side was made on
the man who had hitherto acted as a principal organ of the party of
Dioscurus, namely, the abbot Kutyches.®
In the year 448, the bishops from different countries, who happened
to be present on various matters of business at Constantinople, met
there in an ecclesiastical assembly, under the presidency of the patri-
arch ;4 when one of their number presented a formal complaint against
Eutyches the abbot. The person who in this case appeared as the
complainant was the bishop Eusebius of Doryleum in Phrygia Salu-
taris, a man who had already, as a layman in the civil capacity of an
imperial commissioner, (agens in rebus,) manifested his zeal for the
orthodox faith, by intermeddling uncalled for in the Nestorian disputes ;
and perhaps in this way he may have attained to the episcopal dignity.°
esset, ostendit (ipse enim Nestorium quoque
in tempore reprehendit in ecclesia rem sac-
rilegam preedicantem.) Sirmond. opp. 11.
1 See ep. 79, etc.
2 For it is doubtless to the condemnation
of Eutyches which followed at Constanti-
nople, that what Theodoret says in ep. 82
refers: Αὐτὸς ὁ κύριος ἐκ τοῦ οὐράνου διέκυ-
we, καὶ τῶν τὴν συκοφαντίαν ὑφῃνάντων τὴν
συκοφαντίην διηλέγξε, καὶ τὸ δύσσεβες αὐτῶν
ἐγυμνῶσε φρονῆμα.
8. ΤῊ patriarch Domnus of Antioch is
said to have ventured first to accuse this
person by name before the emperor, as the
reviver of the Apollinarian heresy, who had
been bold enough to condemn Theodore
and Diodorus. Perhaps this was done in
the letter which he wrote to the emperor in
vindication of the Oriental church: see
above. This accusation by Domnus_ has
been preserved to us by Facundus of Her-
mione, in a Latin translation. Defens. tri-
um capitulor. 1. 8, ¢. 5. .
4 A σύνοδος ἐνδημοῦσα, as it was called.
5 In the breviculis histori Eutychianis-
tarum, or the gestis de nomine Acacii, be-
longing to the last years of the fifth century,
it is said, for instance, of this Eusebius:
Zelo fidei, quem etiam cum agens in rebus
Paris. f. 760. These words, by themselves,
would render it probable, that the layman
who thus interrupted Nestorius in a ser-
mon—see above, p. 959—was no other
than this Eusebius; and this conjecture is
confirmed by the manner in which Cyrill
of Alexandria and Marius Mercator express
themselves in mentioning the above-related
incident; naming him as a person who was
still among the laity; (τέλων μὲν Δλαίκοις ἐτὶ,
qui adhue inter laicos erat;) for this std
seems to denote, that he did not continue to
remain a layman, which suits the case of
this Eusebius. Nor is Garnier’s conjecture
improbable, that the same Eusebius was
author of the first formal complaint publicly
posted up against Nestorius in the church
at Constantinople, in which the latter was
compared to Paul of Samosata: see above.
For it is said, indeed, in the superscription,
that it came from the clergy of the Constan
tinopolitan church; but in the complaint
itself, one individual only speaks, and he
SYNOD OF FLAVIAN. THE EMPEROR INTERFERES. 505
The patriarch Flavian had thus far taken no part in the disputes be-
tween the doctrinal parties ; and as he must have been well aware of
the great influence possessed by the Eutychian monkish party, as well
as of his own critical and hazardous situation with a court party opposed
to him, which might easily convert Eutyches into an instrument for pro-
moting their designs, he would be very little inclined, under these cir-
cumstances, to enlist himself in such controversies. He sought there-
fore, in the first place, to crush them in the bud; and sought to induce
the bishop Eusebius to give up his suit. He begged of him, that he
would but make one visit to the abbot Eutyches in his cell, with a pur-
pose of coming to some understanding with him, and settling the terms
of peace, so that new disturbances might not arise in the church.! But
as Eusebius could not be persuaded to withdraw his complaint, a sum-
mons was served upon Kutyches. The latter, in a haughty and
imperious manner, at first declined personally to obey the summons.
The synod, after the third summons, were about to proceed with him
according to the ecclesiastical law, as one who, by refusing to appear,
had confessed that he was guilty ; when finally he presented himself ;
not alone however, but accompanied by a large train of monks, soldiers,
and notables of state, who would not part with him till the synod
gave their promise that he should be permitted to return in safety to
his cloister. At the same time appeared one of the emperor’s secre-
taries of state, (Silentiarius,) with a letter of the emperor, in which the
great influence of the party of Dioscurus and of Eutyches, and the mis-
trust which these men had contrived to inspire in the emperor’s mind
against the synod, were clearly manifested. The emperor declared it
to be his will, that the creed expressed by the fathers, under the guid-
ance of the Holy Spirit, at Nice, and at Ephesus when Nestorius was
deposed, should be maintained, and that nothing should be done which
tended to detract from it. This declaration was without meaning,
except it implied that the emperor had somehow been filled with solici-,
tude lest Eutyches should be condemned as a defender of the pure
doctrine established at Nice and at Ephesus. And as it respects the
clause which spoke of the Ephesian council, since it might be disputed
what was meant by the Ephesian council, the point was left thus unde-
termined, in order that a great deal else might be introduced, as it
might suit the designs of the party of Dioscurus. If by it was under-
stood the illegal assembly of the party of Cyrill, then there would be an
opportunity of introducing also Cyrill’s anathemas. We may discern
here the same plan which afterwards, and so long as the influence of
Dioscurus predominated, was undeviatingly pursued.
addresses the clergy and laity. Moreover,
Leontius of Byzantium says (1. III. c. Nes-
torianos et Eutychianos) that this document
proceeded from a certain Eusebius, qui tunc
florebat in judicandi potestate, but who af-
terwards became bishop of Doryleum. The
first remark should be corrected, it is true,
by the breviculus; for the agens in rebus
possessed no judicial powers. Now if this
conjecture is correct, Eusebius, while a min-
VOL. II.
ister of state, must have already busied
himself a good deal with the study of the
doctrines of the church, and hence would
be the more zealous about them when he
became a bishop. ‘
1 Ἱνὰ μὴ tiva πάλιν ταραχὴν καὶ ϑόρυβον
ἐγγένεσϑαι ταῖς Χριστοῦ ἐκκλησίαις. See
Harduin. T. 11. Acta Concil. Chale. Acta
Lf. 111.E.
δ00 TRIAL OF EUTYCHES.
This mistrust of the emperor towards the synod was still further
manifested, and in a way certainly disrespectful to them, by the fact,
that he deemed it necessary, as he declared in the letter above men-
tioned, to send one of his high officers of state, the patrician Florentius,
a man approved on the score of his orthodoxy, to attend the synod, on
the ground expressly assigned, that the matters in discussion related to
the faith : hence he was not merely to see to the preservation of outward ἡ
order, which was hitherto considered to be the business of the emperor’s
commissioner, but also to watch for the preservation of sound doctrine.
Insulting, however, as this letter was to the synod, it was yet received
with the customary loudly reiterated demonstrations of applause, and
the adulation even went to the extreme of saluting the emperor as high
riest.1
; Eutyches possessed the doctrinal bent which we have described at
length on a former page: he professed to be unwilling to hold to any-
thing, except what he found expressly affirmed in the holy scriptures.
He reverenced — he said — the sayings of the older church-teachers ;
but they could not possess, in his view, the authority of a rule of faith ;
for they were not free from error, and they sometimes contradicted one
another.2 To all questions proposed to him concerning Christ, he had
always ready the reply: “I confess him to be my God, the Lord of
heaven and earth: his essence I do not allow myself to wish to com-
prehend.”? Finally, on being pressed, he declared that he did indeed
suppose there were two natures before the incarnation, but that after it
he could confess but one nature. By this, beyond all question, Hu-
tyches intended to say, as that which was meant by the adherents of
the Alexandrian system of doctrine, that two natures should be distin-
guished in conception ; but in actual manifestation only the one nature
of the Logos become flesh must be recognized. But by his rude form
of expression, he furnished occasion, it must be acknowledged, for many
suspicions of heresy, to those who fastened only on the letter of the ex-
pression—as though he believed in a preéxistence of Christ’s humanity,
and the like. Furthermore, Hutyches was wont to call the body of
Christ, the body of God; and though he did not deny that Christ pos-
sessed a human body, yet it seemed to him derogatory to its dignity, as
the body of God, to call it the same in essence ( ὁμοούσιος ) with other
human bodies. A certain mistaken and undefined feeling of reverence
1 One of the exclamations: “ Many years
to our high priest the emperor!” Πόλλα τὰ
ἔτη τῷ ἀρχιερεῖ βασιλεῖ. See Concil. Chale.
]. c. f. 150, D.
2 These were the words which Eutyches,
somewhat earlier, addressed to the deputies
of the council in his cloister. The original
substance of his declaration, in words, can-
not, it is true, be precisely ascertained.
Eutyches and his friends asserted, that his
words had not been faithfully reported.
And the deputies themselves did allow, that
they might have taken some things which
were said not wholly according to_their lit-
eral meaning. The party of Eutyches,
however, had a particular interest in refus-
ing to recognize as faithfully reported many
things which seem to have been too freely
expressed for the faith of the church
grounded on outward authority, and which
might give offence to the bishops. It is
clearly manifest, on comparison, that the
difference between the original form of the
expression actually employed by Eutyches,
and that in which his declaration is present-
ed in the acts of the council of Constantino-
ple, cannot be regarded as a very important
one. See Harduin. Concil. f. 182.
3 Φυσιολόγειν ἐμαυτῷ οὐκ ἐπιτρέπω
ae
EUTYCHES CONDEMNED. 507
kept him from this. True, he would have found no difficulty in ex-
pressing himself precisely as the synod required that he should,
although he had hitherto never expressed himself thus ; but yet he
would not consent to condemn the opposite form of expression, which in
truth appeared to him the better one. Since, then, he could not make
up his mind to recognize the two natures in Christ, nor to join in the
above-mentioned formula of condemnation, the synod gave sentence
against him, that he should be divested of all his spiritual titles, and
excommunicated from the church.
Flavian — who, as we have already said, had from the very first en-
gaged, not without solicitude, in this whole affair — must have been well
aware of the danger into which he was plunging, by proceeding thus
against the head of a monkish party possessed of so much influence at
court, and connected with the powerful patriarch of Alexandria. Even
as the leader of that monkish clan which had proved to be so influential
amidst the Nestorian controversies, Eutyches was a dangerous man.}
But, besides this, the case now was, that the most powerful men of the
court, the eunuch, and chief lord of the bed-chamber, Chrysaphius,
whose influence was then unbounded, and Nomus, the most eminent of
the officers of state, maintained a close correspondence with the patri-
arch Dioscurus, and consented to assist in the promotion of his ends ;
and that Chrysaphius was a personal friend of Eutyches, whom he
respected as his godfather,? and hostile to the patriarch Flavian, with
whom his avarice found it more difficult to drive a profitable bargain
than with a Dioscurus.* Chrysaphius was at the head of a court-party,
opposed to the influence of Pulcheria, the emperor’s sister ; and the
latter was a patroness of Flavian. Chrysaphius, having succeeded then
in forming a league with the empress Eudocia against Pulcheria, and
in depriving the latter of her influence, and finally removing her en-
tirely from the court, was now armed with all necessary power to pro-
ceed against the patriarch. It might well be, therefore, that the whole
contest, if not instigated by his own secret arts and those of Dioscurus,
yet furnished him with a welcome occasion for prosecuting a plan which
had been devised before.
1See the complaint of an Alexandrian
presbyter against Dioscurus, in Harduin.
Concil. T. 11. f. 332. Of Nomus it is here
said: Τότε τὰ τῆς οἰκουμένης ἐν χέρσιν ἔχοντι
πράγματα. Theodoret also had proofs of
the unfavorable disposition of the patrician
Nomus towards his party, as two letters
which he sent him were not answered. See
ep. 26. ;
Eusebius of Doryleum shows, by a re-
markable expression of his during the pro-
ceedings at Constantinople, how much rea-
son he had to fear the power of Eutyches.
“T fear his running about,” says he; “I am
poor, he has money; he threatens me with
exile, he already depicts to me the Oasis.”
Δεδοίκα αὐτοῦ τὴν περιδρόμην, ἔγω πένης
εἰμί, ἐξόριαν μοὶ ἀπειλεῖ, χρήματα ἔχει, ἀνα-
ζωγρώφει μοι ἤδη τὴν ἤθασιν. See acta Con-
cil. Chale. Harduin. T. IL. f. 162, E.
2 See Liberat. breviar. c. XI.
8 See Theophan. Chronograph. ed. Ve-
net. f. 68. Chrysaphius, according to this
historian, had invited the emperor to require
of the patriarch Flavian a present in gold
(εὐλογία) on the occasion of his entering
into his office. Flavian sent him an epis-
copal gift, consecrated bread, (εὐλογία in
another sense,) with which, however, Chry-
saphius was not satisfied. As it is in-
timated in Theophanes (1. 6.) that Flavian
took the part of certain Alexandrian clergy,
Cyrill’s relations, persecuted by Dioscurus,
in opposition to Chrysaphius, who here
acted in subserviency to the revengeful
spirit of Dioscurus, while he sought at the
same time to gratify his own avarice, (see
Harduin. 1. ¢.) we may perhaps find in
this also a reason for the hatred of both
these men to Flavian.
δ08 THE EMPEROR TAKES PART WITH EUTYCHES.
The way in which Eutyches presented himself before the assembly
plainly showed that he was conscious of being able to depend on the
assistance of a powerful party. Thus it became known, even in distant
lands, how much Flavian had hazarded by this mode of proceeding.
The advocates of the doctrine of the two natures, in Syria, saw in this
case a triumph of the truth, which they attributed to the zeal and cour-
age of Flavian overcoming the fear of human power; and they sent
messages to assure him of their sympathy and joy on the occasion.1
But Eutyches applied to the emperor with a petition, demanding a
new trial. He endeavored to show, that, in the proceedings against
him, the prescribed legal forms had been violated ; that the sentence
of condemnation had been already prepared before he was tried ; and
that, in the drawing up of the protocol, many things had been stated that
were untrue. The emperor received the petition, and ordered a revi-
sion of the earlier proceedings. But as Flavian, with all his respect for
the emperor, yet did not suffer himself to be influenced in the least in
his judicial proceedings by fear of the imperial power, the revision
resulted in a confirmation of the sentence pronounced upon Eutyches.
This was, however, by no means the end of the business : it was
rather but the beginning of greater and more general commotions in
the Eastern church. Hutyches had already, during the proceedings at
Constantinople, let fall an expression, from which his ulterior designs
might have been conjectured. He had said he would consent to pro-
fess his belief in the two natures of Christ, if the bishops of Alexandria
and of Rome would also approve of it. The sentiments of his ally
Dioscurus were well known to him; and he expected to be upheld by
the Roman bishop, judging from the manner in which the predecessors
of that bishop had espoused the cause of the monkish party in the con-
test with Nestorius. But he did not consider, that the doctrines of
Nestorius might be opposed from some other point of view than that
of the Monophysites. Hutyches himself wished to have that expression
considered as an appeal to a general council to be attended by both the
other patriarchs. ‘This appeal to another council was thenceforward
the mark at which he constantly aimed. Of this he spoke in his letter
to the Roman bishop, Leo the Great, complaining that Nestorianism was
starting up afresh. Of this he treated also in his conferences with the
emperor; and the emperor, already reminded from those at Alexandria
that new and energetic measures were required in order to supplant the
reviving Nestorianism, was therefore easily induced to comply with
Eutyches’ request. Already, when the revision of this matter at Con-
stantinople was ordered by the emperor, arrangements were at the same
time in progress for assembling a general council, which should pass
definitive sentence on all the matters in dispute.? .
Flavian, however, was desirous of preventing the convocation of a
new council of this sort. In his view, no such assembly was needed,
1 Theodoret. ep. XI. οἰκουμενίκη ἐκελεύσϑη γίνεσϑαι σύνοδος καὶ
2 The remark of a bishop, from which we πεφυλάκται τὰ καιριώτερα τῶν πραγμώτων ἐν
may see that all this was only intended as ἐκεινῇ τῇ συνόδῳ καὶ μετεσταλῆσαν πόλλοι.
a provisory transaction: Ei καὶ τὰ wadiora Cone. Chale. Harduin. T. 11. f 176, D
GENERAL COUNCIL AT EPHESUS. 509
since the doctrine of the church, as hitherto expressed, was sufficiently
decided against Eutyches. This, we must allow, was not necessarily
clear to all; for nothing, at least in the public declarations of the
church, had been expressly determined on the points in dispute; as
the antagonism between the doctrines of the Antiochian and the Alexan-
drian church had not as yet been resolved by any public decisions ;
and the articles of agreement entered into with Cyrill, which might
pass for such conciliation, had from the first been differently construed
by the different parties. Beyond question, in the existing state of feel-
ing of which we have spoken above, and with the known disposition
of Dioscurus, and the mighty influence of his party, which was also
the party of Eutyches, no good could be expected from a new general
synod. Hence Flavian called upon the Roman bishop, Leo the Great,
to use his authority also to prevent the assembling of another general
council, lest all the churches should be thrown into disturbance.1 These
words show what prospects were anticipated from the council in ques-
tion ; and similar were the expectations of all unprejudiced men who
were honestly solicitous for the welfare of the church.
But Flavian could not obtain what he desired. The emperor could
not forgive him for condemning Eutyches, which from the first was con-
trary to his will; and for this very reason he became more closely
connected with the opposite party, under whose supremacy the general
council was to be placed.
The manner in which this new council, the second general council of
Ephesus, appointed to meet at Ephesus in the year 449, was first
announced by the emperor, and the arrangement of its course of pro-
ceedings could but serve to deepen the solicitude which had been
awakened at the outset ; since it was plainly manifest, that the empe-
ror had a perfect understanding with Dioscurus, and that the assembly
was to be used by the latter and his party only as an instrument for
the accomplishment of a plan which had already been prepared. In
his ordinance addressed to this synod, the emperor declared, that as
the patriarch Flavian had stirred up a dispute concerning the doctrines
of faith with the abbot Eutyches, he, the emperor, had taken great
pains to suppress the disorders which had arisen, and for this reason
had often sent to the patriarch ; for, in his opinion, the true faith had
been sufficiently established by what had been taught by the fathers at
Nice and at Ephesus. But as the patriarch was not to be moved by
his repeated entreaties that he would abstain from these disputes, there-
fore the emperor had not deemed it safe to let such a controversy be
managed without calling in the assistance of all the most eminent bishops
from all countries ; and hence this general council had been convoked,
for the purpose of investigating the whole matter anew, and of extirpating
every devilish root ;? for the purpose of thrusting the adherents of the
blasphemies of the godless Nestorius out of the church, and of ordering
that the orthodox doctrine should be maintained with unshaken con-
1"Qore μὴ τὰς ἁπαντάχοσε ἐκκλησίας δια- is in fact immediately afterwards explained
ταραχϑῆναι. the devilish heresy of Nestorius.
2 Πάσαν διαβολικὴν ἔκκοψαι ῥίζαν, i. 6. as
VOL. II. 48"
510 COUNCIL AT EPHESUS——-THE ROBBER’S SYNOD.
stancy. Dioscurus was nominated by the emperor, president of the coun-
cil ; and his assessors were to be the bishops Juvenalis of Jerusalem and
Thalassius of Czesarea in Cappadocia. The last, however, were mentioned
in such a way as made it sufficiently evident, that they were to be
used only as the tools of Dioscurus ; for it was said of both those bishops,
that they, and all such warm friends of orthodoxy, would be of the
same mind with Dioscurus. The judges of Eutyches — for example, the
patriarch Flavian — shduld attend the council, not as judges however,
nor as voters, but in order to learn the decision of the council, which
was to investigate the matter anew. Already, in the first letters mis-
sive, the emperor had ordered that Theodoret should be present only on
condition it should be deemed good by the whole assembly ; but, in case of
any difference of opinion on this point, he should remain excluded. By
this it was very clearly announced beforehand, that Theodoret was not
to be admitted. Yet too many apprehensions were still entertained of
the influence of the well-merited esteem in which that excellent man
stood with many. For this reason, in his letter to Dioscurus, the
emperor declared why he had nominated him to be president of the
assembly: ‘‘ Because it might happen, that numbers inclined to Nesto-
rianism would take every pains to bring it about, in some way or other,
that Theodoret should attend the council. On this account, Dioscurus
only should decide that point; for those who ventured to add or
take away anything from the doctrines of faith, as they had been estab-
lished at Nice, and afterwards at Ephesus, ought to have no voice at
the synod, but, on the contrary, to be subjected to its judicial sentence.”
While all the opponents of the Alexandrian system of faith were thus
plainly enough excluded from the synod, as Nestorians ; the other party,
on the contrary, were favored in the most arbitrary manner. The emperor
directed: ‘ Because, in many districts of the East, the orthodox Archi-
mandrites 1 were in controversy with the bishops, who were said to be
infected with the Nestorian blasphemy, therefore the abbot Barsumas,
as their representative, should have a seat and a voice at the council.”
The emperor had appointed two civil officers, — men, as he declared,
of approved orthodoxy,— to attend the proceedings, as his plenipotentia-
ries. In the instructions given to them, they were directed, in case they
observed any one creating disturbance to the prejudice of the holy
faith, to place such person in safe custody, and report the fact to the
emperor; that is, they were authorized to remove every man who
was bold enough to express freely his own convictions in opposition to
the Alexandrian monophysitism.
' In correspondence with these arrangements was the actual course of
this council, justly branded in the history of the church with the title
robber-synod, (σύνοδος λῃστρικῆ.) Dioscurus here ruled supreme, by his
vote, which was paramount to every other; by the influence of the
imperial commissioners, which gave meaning and force to his threats ;
by the fanatical violence of his Egyptian party, and particularly of the
1 The very party with which, as we have before remarked, Theodoret and his friends
had so many contests.
ITS CHARACTER. 511
great body of monks who attended Barsumas, whose fierce shoutg
might well give reason to apprehend that they were capable of any
outrage; by a troop of brawny hospital-waiters, (parabolani, see above,
vol. II. p.159,) and soldiers, who were admitted into the assembly for
the purpose of intimidating refractory members seated before them ;!
and, finally, through the cowardice or entire want of character shown
by so many bishops, to whom the truth was not the highest of all
interests. Nothing could be more contrary to the spirit of the gospel
than the fanaticism which actuated the dominant party in this council
in favor of certain dogmatic formulas of conception, in which men
dreamed of possessing Christ, who is spirit and life, though in temper
and action they denied him. Theodoret relates,” that, when the assem-
bly were about to bring a formal complaint against a bishop who was
accused of unchastity and various other crimes, the president Dioscu-
rus dismissed the whole matter, remarking: ‘If you have a complaint
against his orthodoxy, we shall receive it; but we have not come here
to pass judgment on unchastity.”” Theodoret takes this occasion to set
forth the character of the synod. ‘They were for acting,” he said,
‘“‘as if Christ had merely prescribed a rule of faith, without giving
rules of practice.” Some examples from the proceedings may serve to
verify this description.
The general plan which Dioscurus pursued at this council was the
same which he had thus far been prosecuting by his subservient instru-
ments, —to condemn whatever was opposed to the Alexandrian system
of doctrine, as a heretical innovation overstepping the determinations
of doctrine settled at the councils of Nice and of Ephesus. He
opened the proceedings by declaring that the council of Nice and the
council of Ephesus had both established the same creed; everything
had on these occasions been settled in an unalterable manner. Ac-
cursed be he who would unsettle again, and subject to new examination,
what had there been determined! This proposition was received with
shouts of approbation like the following: “ΚΝ On this depends the salva-
tion of the world! God save the bishop Dioscurus, the great guardian
of the faitn!”? He then cited the passage in 1 Sam. 2: 25, from
which the misapprehended distinction had been drawn between sins
against God and sins against man, and the perverted principle that
heresies were sins of far deeper dye than all others. And he added,
applying this principle to the present case: “If the Holy Ghost then
dwelt with our fathers, and determined whatever was determined, then
he who has introduced any alterations here has proved himself to be a
despiser of the divine grace.”’ This also was received “as the voice of
the Holy Spirit,’ as the synod expressed it in their shout of applause.
The very announcement of the proposition, that Christ consists of two
1The bishop Basil of Seleucia, in Isau- δὲ ἀπὸ τῆς γλώσσης adv" εἰσετρέχον γὰρ εἰς
ria, said to Dioscurus, at the council of τὴν ἐκκλησίαν στρατιώται μετὰ ὅπλων Kal
Chalcedon, in excuse of what he had done εἰσηκείσαν οἱ μοναζόντες μετὰ Βαρσούμα καὶ
contrary to his own convictions, at the coun- of παραβαλάνεις καὶ πλῆϑος ὧλλο πολύ
cil of Ephesus: Πολλὴν ἐπιστήσας ἡμῖν τότε Concil. Chale. act. I. f. 213, 1. ὁ.
ἀνάγκην τὴν μὲν ἐξώϑεν, τὴν δὲ Evdoder, τὴν 2 Ep. 147 ad Joannem Germanicie.
512 FLAVIAN AND EUSEBIUS DEPOSED.
natures, produced such an excitement that all the Egyptian bishops,
and the whole throng of monks that accompanied Barsumas, exclaimed,
“Divide asunder the man himself who speaks of two natures. He
who speaks of two natures is a Nestorius.”” When the bishop Euse-
bius, of Doryleum, attempted to explain the doctrine of two natures in
Christ, many voices exclaimed, ‘‘ Burn Eusebius; let him be burnt
alive. As he has eut asunder Christ, so let Aim be cut asunder.’ 1
Such exclamations, with the sight of the soldiers and the ferocious
monks, were quite sufficient to stupify many who otherwise would not
have given their assent to the propositions of Dioscurus. Thrown off
from their self-possession, and hurried along against their will, they
repeated by rote whatever was prescribed to them.”
True, the bishops who attended this Ephesian synod had strong
inducements afterwards, at the council of Chalcedon, to exaggerate the
scenes of violence which there occurred, in palliation of their own
conduct on that occasion; and, besides, many contradictions may be
detected in their remarks: but still it is clear that force was resorted
to in various ways to compel men to subscribe the decisions of the
council; that the bishops were kept confined for a whole day in the
church; that they were menaced by soldiers and monks till they had
subscribed ; and that blank papers were laid before them for their sig-
nature, which could afterwards be filled up with whatever the leaders
chose.®
After Dioscurus had thus carried through the principle that the
Nicene-Ephesian creed was alone valid, the canon established at the
first council of Ephesus was now confirmed anew, that whoever taught
or endeavored to introduce anything different from these articles,
should, if a bishop or ecclesiastic, be deposed from his spiritual office,
and, if a layman, excommunicated from the church. This law was next
applied, in a wholly arbitrary manner, and without any trial of the
cases, to the bishops Flavian and Eusebius. Inasmuch as these bishops
had deviated on almost every point from this creed, and thus excited
disturbances and scandal in all countries, they had of themselves
incurred those established and unalterable penalties, and should be
deposed from their spiritual office. Many who were impelled by their
1 Concil. Chale. act. 1. f. 162, B. that judgment. One of the bishops alleged
2 A bishop, Basil of Seleucia, says him-
self afterwards, at the council of Chalce-
don, in his own excuse: Τοσούτος ἐγένετο
κρότος, ὥστε πάντων ἡμῶν τιναχϑῆναι THY
ψυχὴν .... ἀχλύος δὲ πληρώϑεις εἴπον.
F. 102.
3.94. Theodoret also says, soon after
these events: Τῶν συνεληλυϑότων οἱ πλείσ-
Tot βιασϑέντες συνέϑεντο. Ep. 142.
4 When that canon was brought forward
by Dioscurus, several bishops remarked at
once, that the deposition of Flavian was
the real object at bottom. And when, soon
after, Dioscurus actually proposed this depo-
sition, many of the bishops arose, and, clasp-
ing his knees, begged him to desist from
the very characteristic reason, that he too
had presbyters, and should therefore be cau-
tions how he let a bishop be deposed for the
sake of a presbyter. But Dioscurus re-
mained firm: he would rather let his tongue
be cut out, he said, than pass any other
sentence, and he threatened to call upon
the imperial commissioners. Dioscurus as-
serted, it is true, that this whole account of
the matter, given by some bishops at the
council of Chalcedon, was false, and ap-
pealed to witnesses. But he may have
easily forgotten himself what he had said in
the heat of passion; and, as a matter of
course, such things were not entered on the
minutes of the scribes. A great deal in
ALSO, DOMNUS AND THEODORET. 513
fears to acquiesce in these judgments, quieted their consciences with
the reflection that at least no new doctrines had been proposed, to
which they were forced to give their assent; for the only point in
question was whether they should hold fast the form of doctrine set
forth in the Nicene and Ephesian councils. But they would not dis-
tinctly look at the fact, that Flavian and Eusebius were at any rate
deposed solely on grounds of doctrine. Accordingly those very
bishops who had taken part in the council of Constantinople under
Flavian gave their assent to these decrees. Even the patriarch
Domnus, of Antioch, who, on account of the position which he held in
the church, stood at the head of the Orientals, was persuaded to yield
with the rest, heedless of the warnings which the excellent Theodoret,
with a wise foresight of the future, gave him when the council was
about to be opened.” But this compliance could not avail him. Dios-
curus could not for this forgive him his opposition to the Cyrillian
anathemas ; and, being compelled by sickness to withdraw from the
council, sentence of deposition was pronounced afterwards also upon
him.? The same sentence was passed upon Theodoret, and several
others who were among the most worthy bishops of the East.
By an imperial edict, Theodoret was also removed from his diocese,
and obliged to retire to the cloister where he had received his early
education. His enemies endeavored so to contrive it that he should be
deprived even of the necessaries of life; and many were so awed by
the power of the dominant party that they dared not interfere in his
behalf. There were, however, a few pious bishops who vied with
each other in testifying their affection for a man who was thus suffering
for the truth. Theodoret, who was accustomed to moderate his bodily
wants and needed but very little to satisfy them, declined most of the
gifts which were offered him, writing to his friends “‘ that the God who
gave the very ravens their abundance of food, had provided him thus
far with all that was needful for his support.’’® When we compare the
spirit of ambition and violence on the one hand, and of servile compli-
ance and cowardice on the other, exhibited by so many bishops of the
East, with the firmness rising above all fear of man, the tranquil com-
posure amid all the storms of the times, and the confidence of faith in
contending for the truth, which shine forth in this example of Theo-
doret, the striking contrast leaves upon us but a still more agreeable
impression of his character.®
those remarks bears at least an impress too
distinctly characteristic to be liable to the
suspicion of having been invented. Concil.
Chale. act. I: f. 215.
1 Μηδεμίαν γεγενῆσϑαι περὶ τὸ δόγμα και-
νοτομίαν. Ep. 147.
2 See Theodoret, ep. 112. Theodoret here
very justly reminds the patriarch, that no
good had come of all the previous councils.
8 See Liberatus, cap. 12. Dioscurus
brought in evidence against him a letter in
which he had declared against the anathe-
mas, though certainly in very moderate
terms, (eo quod essent obscura.)
4 He writes himself, ep. 134: Ei πάντες
ταύτην ἐξηλώσαν τὴν ὠμοτῆτα, obdev ἑτέρον
ὑπελείπετο, ἢ ζῶντας μὲν ὑπ᾽ ἐνδείας ἀναλω-
ϑῆναι, τελευτήσαντες δὲ μὴ τάφῳ παραδοϑῆ-
ναι, ἀλλὰ κύνων καὶ ϑήρων γένεσϑαι βόραν.
5 Ep. 123.
6 A few characteristic facts selected from
his letters may here serve as illustrations.
When he first received the tidings of his
deposition, he wrote: (ep. 21:) “All the
sufferings we meet for the sake of the di-
vine doctrines are very welcome to us. It
cannot be otherwise, if we truly believe in
the promises of our Lord, that the suffer
514 LEO’S DELEGATES TO THE COUNCIL.
Thus, then, the party of Dioscurus, by availing itself of the power
of the court, had succeeded in crushing the Oriental church. Some
changed their faith with the change of circumstances, and bowed the
knee to the dominant party. Others, although they remained faithful
to the truth themselves, yet dared not lift up their voice in its defence.
The men of free and fearless spirit were separated from their churches
and banished. In this lamentable state of things, but one refuge was
left to the oppressed church of the East, namely, to appeal for redress
to the Western church, which had remained free from the influence of
the political power, and had not been affected by any of these contests ;
and especially to the bishop of the ancient capital of the world, through
whose all-powerful influence at the court of the Roman emperor, they
might hope to receive assistance also from the latter quarter.
This important station in the church was then occupied by Leo the
Great, a person of great energy and firmness of character. Leo had
from the first been drawn into some participation in these controversies.
Eutyches in the first place, and then Flavian, had had recourse to him.
As soon as he obtained exact information respecting the subject of the
dispute with Eutyches, he acquiesced in the sentence of condemnation
passed on his doctrine, and simply expressed a wish that gentle methods
might be employed to induce Eutyches to recant, and, if he could not
be persuaded, that he might be forgiven. He afterwards wrote Flavian
a letter constituting an epoch in the history of the doctrines of faith,
in which he endeavored to prescribe the law for the decision of those
disputes, and unfolded in detail the doctrine of the unity of Christ, as
one person in two natures, both retaining unaltered their respective
attributes, but acting in union with each other; and to this letter he
constantly refers in all his succeeding communications. The emperor
Theodosius having invited him to take a part in the Ephesian council,
he sent, as his deputies, the bishop Julius of Puteoli, the presbyter
Renatus, the deacon Hilarus, and the notary Dulcitius. These depu-
ties witnessed the scenes of violence which were exhibited at that
synod ; but they played there a very insignificant part, having attempted
m vain to get permission even to do so much as to read publicly before
ings of this present time are not worthy to
‘ye compared with the glory which shall be
revealed in us. Rom. 8: 18, But why do
I mention the enjoyment of future bless-
ings? For even though no reward were
bestowed on the combatants, yet the truth,
itself alone, were enough to move its friends
to encounter with all joy every danger in
its behalf”? He then proceeds to unfold in
a beautiful manner, from the epistles of
Paul, from the passage in Rom. 8: 85 -- 38,
how the apostle asked for no recompense,
but the love of the Saviour was to him
more than all recompense; —the doctrine,
preéminently shining through the writings
of the Antiochian church-teachers, of dis-
interested love: Those who counselled him
to be silent, and yield to the times, —a so-
called olxovouia,—he repelled, opposing to
them the precepts of holy writ, which re-
quire the bold annunciation of the truth;
and he reminds them of that truth worthy
of all acceptation, that none of the other
cardinal virtues can avail anything without
fortitude, ep. 122. In predicting the judg-
ment of God which awaited the authors of
injustice, he only expressed the wish, that
they might seasonably desist from their
wrong-doing, “that we may not be com-
pelled to sorrow over them when we see
them suffering punishment.” Ep. 124. “What
can be more feeble than they are who lack
the truth ¢” he writes, ep. 129.
1 Of such Theodoret says, ep. 147: Ποίοι
πολύποδες οὕτως πρὸς τὰς πέτρας THY οἰκείαν
ἐναλλάττουσι χρόαν ἢ χαμαιλέοντες πρὺς τὰ
φύλλα τὸ χρώμα, ὡς οὕτοι τὴν γνώμην πρὸς
τοὺς καίρους μεταβώλλουσιν ;
FLAVIAN’S APPEAL. 515
the synod the letter of Leo. Without directly giving them a refusal,
the all-controlling Dioscurus still contrived always to find some plausible
reason for delay.!_ When the patriarch Flavian protested against the
unrighteous judgment passed by the Ephesian council, the Roman
deacon had courage enough to join in this protest;? and Flavian
handed over to him an appeal to a larger council which should be held
in Italy. Hilarus succeeded in escaping from the high-handed violence
of Dioscurus; and, by choosing the less frequented routes, arrived at
Rome, where he drew up a faithful description to his bishop of the
proceedings of the Ephesian council, and presented to him the appeal.?
The bishop Theodoret also, in a remarkable letter,‘ resorted to an appeal
of the same kind.
Many and various were the motives which now conspired to deter-
mine Leo as to the course he should pursue, and as to the way in
which he should embark in these affairs. On the one hand, the zeal
for pure doctrine, sympathy for oppressed innocence, indignation at the
unspiritual mode of proceeding at Ephesus, — on the other hand, the
idea which already completely absorbed his mind, that a certain super-
intendence and jurisdiction over the whole church belonged to him as
the successor of Peter,—all these considerations combined to give a
certain direction to his mode of conduct. No sooner had he received
these accounts from his deacon, than, in his letter addressed to the Kast,
he expressed in the most emphatic tone his dissatisfaction at the arbi-
trary behavior of the Ephesian council,? and urged the necessity of
assembling a new council in Italy. Through the influence of Leo, a
letter written in the same spirit was addressed from the court of the
1 Dioscurus at first had even proposed
that the letter should be read before the
synod, though perhaps he was not in ear-
nest about it. But upon this, the first sec-
retary of the Alexandrian church, (Primi-
cerius notariorum,) the presbyter John,
whose duty it was to present the official
records, said that he held in his hands the
imperial sacra addressed to the council.
Respect to the emperor now required, that
this document should be read first, and the
letter of Leo was then forgotten. See
Concil. Chale. act. I. f. 90. When it was
proposed afterwards, that the acts of the
σύνοδος évdnuovoa, by which Eutyches was
condemned, should be read, and the Roman
deputies were asked whether they also were
satisfied with this course, they declared they
would agree to it on condition that Leo’s
letter to Flavian should first be read. But
now Eutyches declared the Roman depu-
ties were suspected by him; for on their
arrival they had alighted at the house
of the patriarch Flavian, they had break-
fasted with him, had frequently been in
conference with him; and Flavian had
shown them all possible honor, He must
therefore require, that, if they proposed
doing him any wrong, this should not be
used to his disadvantage. The bishop Di-
oscurus then declared, it was certainly no
more than right that those acts should first
be read, and then the reading of the letter
might follow afterwards. But when this
was done, no one remembered that Leo’s
letter was next to be read. Act. Chale. I.
f.110. Fora third time, the Roman dea-
con, Hilarus, took the opportunity, when
Dioscurus brought forward his proposition
respecting the unalterable validity of the
Nicene-Ephesian articles of faith, to affirm
that these doctrines agreed with the faith of
the fathers, as also with that letter of Leo;
and added, that if they would allow that
letter to be read, they would perceive that
it contained nothing but the truth. But
again this invitation was neglected. L. ¢.
f, 255, EB.
5. Το ¢: f. 258,
3 Lc. f. 34.
4 See above, vol. IT. p.165, inthe history of
the church constitution. ᾿
5 With him originated the name by which
this council was stigmatized in the history
of the church. Ephesinum non judicium ;
sed latrocinium, ep. 95, ed. Ballerin, accord-
ing to other editions, ep. 79.
516 PULCHERIA AND MARCIAN.
Western emperor to Constantinople. By all these means, nothing,
however, could for the present be effected. So false a representation
of all that had happened had been given to the emperor Theodosius,
who, at the same time, depended entirely upon it; so completely con-
cealed from him was the.true condition of the Eastern church, that he
wrote to the emperor Valentinian III. everything had been transacted
at Ephesus with perfect freedom, and in strict conformity to truth;
none but the unworthy bishops had been deposed; Flavian had met
with the punishment he deserved; and, since his deposition, perfect
peace and unanimity prevailed in the churches, where nothing else was
now supreme but the pure truth.
Meanwhile, however, the choice of Anatolius as the new patriarch
of Constantinople, in place of the deposed Flavian, rendered it neces-
sary to enter into new negotiations with the Roman bishop; for it was
wished that he should be recognized also in the Western church, which
could not be done without the concurrence of the Roman bishop. But
Leo would not otherwise consent to recognize Anatolius, except on
condition he gave unambiguous proofs of his orthodoxy, condemned the
doctrines of Hutyches as well as of Nestorius, and consented to sub-
scribe, with several other documents, the letter of Leo to Flavian.!
To settle the details of the business with the patriarch, he moreover
sent to Constantinople a delegation consisting of two bishops, one of
whom was Abundius, bishop of Como, and two presbyters.
In the meantime, important changes had occurred at Constantinople
in the state of public affairs, altogether favorable to Leo’s designs.
Dioscurnus had in truth been indebted, in a great measure, for his tri
umph, to the power of Chrysaphius and of the empress Eudocia. But
now Chrysaphius had fallen into disgrace, and was banished. The
emperor had separated from his wife Eudocia, and the latter retired to
the district of Jerusalem. Pulcheria, the patroness of Flavian, was re-
called to court, and once more obtained unbounded influence.2 These
changes alone enabled Leo now to accomplish vastly more at Constanti-
nople. Already had Pulcheria caused Flavian’s body to be brought to
Constantinople, and buried with all the honors due to a patriarch. In
addition to this, an event now occurred which gave the decisive blow.
Theodosius died in the year 450, when Pulcheria united herself in
marriage with Marcian, and procured for him the imperial dignity.
The prevailing religion at court now took an altogether different turn.
The bishops who had been deposed and exiled on account of their faith
were recalled, and directed to resume their dioceses. As the prevailing
dectrinal inclination of the court was wont to have great influence on
the conduct of very many bishops, so it happened too in the present
case. Many, who under the former reign had taken the side of Dios-
curus, under the influence of force or of fear, or who were already in
the habit of making their doctrinal opinions subservient to circum-
1 See Leo’s letter to the emperor Theo- the bishop Abundius of Como, in the actis
dosius, to Pulcheria, and to the abbots of Sanctorum, II. April.
Constantinople, ep. 69-71, and the life of 2 See Theophanes chronograph.
DIVERSE INTERESTS OF LEO AND MARCIAN. 517
stances, now signified their repentance. The patriarch Anatolius
transacted all matters relating to the healing of the schism of the
churches, in a common understanding with the Roman bishop Leo;
and, to facilitate this, the latter sent a new deputation to Constantinople.
He declared it to be his own mind, that the bishops who had erred
simply through weakness or fear, should be granted forgiveness if they
signified their repentance, and, as he had already required of Anato-
lius, should present satisfactory testimonies of their orthodoxy. An
exception only should be made of the case of those bishops who had
taken the lead in the second Ephesian council, Dioscurus, and Juvenalis
of Jerusalem. The definitive sentence with regard to these last
should remain reserved to the Roman bishop until after a more exact
investigation.
At the same time, however, the objects and interests of the Roman
bishop and of the imperial court could not be brought perfectly to
agree with each other. Leo proceeded on the supposition, that a new
investigation of the doctrines of faith was wholly unnecessary ; since
everything had been sufficiently decided already by what had been
determined during the previous disputes, and especially by his own
letter to Flavian; and that the only proper subject for deliberation and
counsel was, how to proceed with those who had lately espoused the
party of the second Ephesian synod. Should it be thought advisable
on this account to assemble a general council, this ought to be appointed
to meet in some Italian city; Flavian having in fact appealed to a
council to be convened in Italy.!' But the emperor had in view, at the
same time with the doctrinal interest, also a political one: he did not
wish to suppress, by force, a schism which was so deeply rooted and
so widely spread, and the suppression of which might be attended with
such disastrous consequences both to church and state; but he wished
to devise means for a peaceable settlement. It was his desire, there-
fore, to avoid offending either of the two contending parties, and.
especially did he need to be indulgent towards a sect so powerful in
one part of the empire, and so dangerous on account of their wild
fanaticism, a3’ was the monophysite or Egyptian party. Hence the
object to be accomplished could not appear so easy to the emperor as it
did to the Roman bishop, neither could he agree with the latter in
respect to the choice of means. He wished and hoped—a hope
which no one but a layman ignorant of the common course of theolo-
gical controversies could entertain — to bring about, by means of nego-
tiations at a general council, a concordat, which might serve as the
basis of a reconciliation between the two parties. But this object was
one which he could hope to accomplish only by means of a council,
whose place of assembling should be so near that an influence might
be brought to bear upon its proceedings from Constantinople ; and that,
1 Ἐς g. ep. 82 ad Marcian. Non cujus- fieri intra Italiam poposcissem, — which he
modi sit fides tenenda tractandum est; sed often repeated in his letters to Constanti-
quorum precibus et qualiter annuendum. nople.
Ep. 94 ad eundem. Quamyis synodum
VOL. II. 44
δ18 COUNCIL OF NICE—REMOVED TO CHALCEDON.
if necessary, the emperor might attend it himself. He therefore sent
out his letters missive for such a council to meet at Nice in Bithynia
in the year 451. ‘This particular town was doubtless selected for the
express purpose of giving greater authority to the council by the
remembrance of the first council of Nice, whose creed it was once
more to assert in opposition to strange doctrines of erroneous tendency.
Moreover, the bishop of Rome was invited to take a share in the’
deliberations of this council.
During these transactions, Leo proceeded according to the same
consistent principles and in the same spirit as he had ever maintained.
The position which he assumed for himself was that of a certain pri-
macy, a certain supreme jurisdiction, which it belonged to him to assert
over the whole church. He alleged as the reason why he could not
himself appear at that council, not only the then political situation of
the Western empire, but also the ancient usage, which did not permit
a Roman bishop to be personally present at a foreign general council,
as if this was beneath the dignity of a bishop of Rome; and yet he
deemed himself warranted to exercise the presidency there through
his delegates, three bishops, and two presbyters, whom he sent to
Chalcedon :? and in fact they often conducted in the council in such a
manner, as that they seemed to arrogate to themselves in the name of
the Roman bishop a certain supreme judicial authority ;? although at
the same time the patriarch Anatolius of Constantinople considered
himself the president of the synod.*
The church assembly was now about to be opened at Nice, where
630 bishops had already convened ; but the disturbances excited there
by fanatical ecclesiastics, monks, and laymen, probably belonging to
the party of Dioscurus, and who threatened to repeat over the scenes
of the second Ephesian council, doubtless convinced the emperor that
it would be necessary to bring the place for the assembling of the
council nearer to the imperial residence, and more under the influence
of the government. The Roman delegates also informed the emperor,
that they dared not attend the council, unless he himself would be
present. In order, therefore, to the better guidance of the council,
the emperor transferred it from Nice to Chalcedon.® Thus, by its
vicinity to the seat of government, the object could now be secured,
which was originally had in view, that the first officers of state and
1See ep. 93 to the synod at Nice: Nec
ulla poterat consuetudo permittere. So, too,
the deputies of Leo, in the beginning of the
third act of the council, ἐπειδήπερ οὔτε τὸ
τῆς ἀρχαιοτῆτος ἔϑος ἐσχῆκε τούτο.
2 Kp. 93 to the synod at Nice: In his
fratribus, qui ab apostolica directi sunt, me
synodo vestra fraternitas sestimet preesidere.
3 So 6. g. the Roman delegate, in the
third act, said the apostolic see had granted
pardon to the penitent bishops of the second
Ephesian council, 1. ο. 8346. When Dioscu-
rus was about to take his seat in the synod,
the Roman delegates declared, they had
been instructed by the bishop of the city of
Rome, which is the head of all the churches,
Kedaang ὑπάρχοντος Taowy τῶν ἐκκλησίων,
not to suffer this; for he had presumed to
hold a synod without the assistance of the
apostolic seat, a thing which never had been
done, and which ought not to be done.
They declared that they were resolved to
take their leave if this was permitted. Con-
cil. Chale. act. I. f. 68.
4 Leo and Anatolius are named together
as éEapyovrec τῆς συνόδους. Act. IV. f. 436.
5 See the letter of Marcian to the synod
at Nice, f.48 and 49, l. c. and Liberatus,
ο. 13.
CONFLICT OF PARTIES AT THIS COUNCIL. 519
the imperial senate might be present at the meetings; and that, when-
ever aught occurred of doubtful character, the emperor might be
immediately informed of it, and interpose his veto.
The imperial court had set itself a problem, the solution of which
was attended with the utmost difficulty — to reconcile and unite together
two parties irritated and inflamed with fanatical hatred towards each
other. This was apparent at the very outset, in the manner in which
Theodoret was received by the two parties, when he appeared in the
midst of the council, as the accuser of his former judges, and to obtain
a solemn act of justification. While he was welcomed by the Orientals
with expressions of enthusiastic sympathy, the bishops of the Egyptian
party degraded their spiritual character by repeated outcries of blind
and frantic fanaticism: ‘‘ Cast forth the Jew, the enemy of God, the
blasphemer of Christ!’?—and to remind the empress, that she who
had wrought the overthrow of Nestorianism ought not to tolerate this
Nestorian ; they added, ‘“ Long live the empress! long live the ortho-
dox emperor!” so that the very laymen of rank, who attended the
synod in the name of the emperor, were constrained to say that such
vulgar outcries ill beseemed bishops, and could be of no advantage to
any party. But the bishops justified themselves on the ground, that
“they were lifting up their voice in defence of piety and the orthodox
faith.”’ +
True, the influence of the altered tone of the court soon manifested
itself in the case of those bishops who had attached themselves to
Dioscurus at the Ephesian council, even such of them as had stood
with him at the head of the synod. Already, during the first proceed-
ings, the majority went over from the right side, where the Egyptian
party sat, to the left, where the Orientals were seated under the presi-
dency of the Roman delegates.? Often, especially when the question
related to the deposing of all those bishops who had stood foremost in
the second Ephesian council, the council resounded with the cry, ‘* We
have all sinned, we all ask forgiveness.” Many with very ill grace
excused the part they had taken at that former council, by pleading
the command of imperial authority, and the constraint to which they
were put; whereupon the lay dignitaries must reply, that in matters
of faith such an excuse could not pass; and Dioscurus was doubtless
right in saying, that such an excuse implied in its very terms an accu-
sation.4
But although the tone of the court exercised so great an influence
on the conduct of the bishops, and although both parties joined in
annihilating the Ephesian transactions; yet the breach between them
1 Δί’ εὐσεβείαν κράξομεν, act. I. 1. ¢. f. 74.
2 Concil. Chale. act. I. f. 130.
8 Concil. Chale. act. I. f. 106.
4 The bishop Basil of Seleucia in Isau-
ria excused his signature to the judgment
pronounced on the patriarch Flavian, on
the plea that deference to a tribunal com-
osed of a hundred and twenty or thirty
ishops compelled him to obey their de-
crees. When, upon this, Dioscurus remark-
ed, that he had passed judgment on himself
of having trampled on right through the
fear of man, he gave this singular reply:
If he had stood before secular magistrates,
he would have been ready to die as a mar-
tyr; but he had no power to contend with
his fathers. L. ο. f. 102.
δ20 OUTLINES OF A NEW CREED.
still continued, and the imperial ministers, who were to see to it that
the emperor’s designs at the council were carried into effect, found it
by no means so easy to unite them together by means of a common
symbol of faith, and thereby to put an end to the divisions in the
Oriental church, the fresh outbreaks of which was an object of contin-
ual dread. The very proposal fo draw up a new symbol of this kind
met from many with determined resistance, because doubtless they saw
through the motives of policy, which would not harmonize with their
dogmatic zeal, and hence wanted confidence in the whole thing.
Meantime the patriarch Anatolius, wnile the other business of the
council went on, proceeded to discuss with a select number cf bishops
the matters of faith. With those who had many objections to make
against the articles in the letter of Leo, which was to obtain the
authority of a creed, he entered into an examination of their scruples,
and endeavored to remove them, in which too he seems to have been
successful. But when the symbol which resulted from those secret
deliberations came to be laid before the assembly, new difficulties and
objections could not fail to arise. For although a reconciliation was
thereby to be brought about between the two parties, yet it was
unavoidable that there should be a decided preponderance one way or
the other, either in favor of the Egyptian, or else in favor of the
Romano-Oriental form of doctrine; and accordingly either one or the
other of the parties must be offended. The symbol of faith first pro-
posed? seems to have been drawn up particularly with a view to
accommodate the prevailing interest of the Egyptian party. It con-
tained the article, that Christ consists of two natures, which doubtless
accorded with the Egyptian creed; for that affirmed that the natures
should be distinguished from each other in conception, though not in
their actual being.2 But some of the Oriental bishops were dissatisfied
with that symbol, which was received by the other party with loud
demonstrations of applause. The Roman delegates declared, that, if
the council could not agree with the letter of Leo, they wished liberty
to return home; and a council should be held at Rome. ‘This threat,
which caused a schism to be feared between the Oriental and the Occi-
dental church, was sufficient to frighten the imperial court ; and it was
the more earnestly desired to gratify Leo, inasmuch as it was hoped,
that, by showing respect to his doctrinal decisions, he might be induced
1 See Concil. Chale. act. IT. f. 286.
2 There were doubtless good reasons for
not incorporating this with the other acts of
the council; and hence we can only gather
its contents from the way in which it was
received.
3 That this was the main point may be
collected from the negotiations of the patri-
arch Anatolius with the bishops whom: he
sought to persuade to agree in an alteration
of the creed. On the same principles which
had moved them to consent to the deposi-
tion of Dioscurus, said he to them, they
must also consent to reject the creed; for
Dioscurus had deposed Flavian for no other
reason than because he maintained the doc-
trine of the two natures; but the creed con-
tained the article, that Christ consists of
(not subsists in) two natures. He would
doubtless say, the creed contained the doc-
trine of Dioscurus, who had been con-
demned, not of Flavian, who had been jus-
tified by the council. But the bishops who
were in favor of the symbol maintained, on
the other hand, that Diosecurus had not
been deposed for doctrinal reasons. See
act. V. f. 449.
NEW CREED AGREED UPON. 521
to recognize the rank conceded to the patriarch of Constantinople,
(See vol. II. p. 169.) It was for this reason so much pains had
already been taken to give the validity of a creed to the letter of Leo
addressed to Flavian, with which a part of the bishops could not be
satisfied.! The civil dignitaries therefore proposed the appointment of
a new committee to examine the symbol of faith, to which delegates
should be chosen from the different parties, particularly six Orientals;
and these should hold their meetings and deliberations under the presi-
dency of the Roman delegates, as well as of the patriarch Anatolius.
Bui the proposal to change the symbol of faith was received by many
of the bishops with loud tokens of disapprobation. The imperial
commissioners deemed it necessary to draw up a report of the doubtful
temper of the bishops to the emperor, and wait for his commands,
The emperor’s decision appeared ; and it was ordered that either the
proposal for the nomination of a committee should be adopted, and
that by these such a symbol should be drawn up as all could be satis-
fied with, and against which no scruples could be raised; or else all
should, by their metropolitans, propose their own faith, and in this way
all discord be removed ; or, if they could not be satisfied with this, no
other course remained than to take measures, since the unity of faith
could not be settled here, for holding a general council in the West.
This last was a threat well calculated to have an effect on the bishops.
They must have a creed dictated to them by the Roman bishop and a
Roman council. But the threat produced at first nothing but exaspera-
tion. Such expressions were heard as the following: those who were
not satisfied with the ancient symbol were Nestorians; these might
go; they might take up their journey fo Rome, The commissioners
then declared, though doubtless not till after many other things had
transpired which have not been reported to us, Dioscurus had avowed
it as his doctrine that Christ consists of two natures; but could not
allow that two natures subsisted in Christ. Leo teaches that two
natures are united without confusion, without change, and without
separation, in one and the same Christ. With which of these two do
you agree? The bishops— who could hardly all of them be the same
as had opposed every change in the ancient creed — now exclaimed:
‘¢ We all have the same faith with Leo; whoever contradicts this faith
is ἃ Eutychian. Upon this the commissioners suggested, that nothing
more was needed than to receive into the creed that article from the
letter of Leo. After this proposal had been generally received, they
held with the select committee a secret meeting, in which the new sym-
bol of faith was drawn up accordingly. In this it was defined that
the one Christ, Son, Lord, only-begotten, should be recognized in two
1 Leo was asked, in a letter addressed to
him by the synod, to manifest, by that con-
cession, his thanks to the emperor for hay-
ing given the force of law to the doctrinal
decision of the Roman bishop, and to the
patriarch, for having united with him in
establishing the pure doctrine. See Mansi
VOL. II. 44*
concil. T. VII. f.154. So too, for the like
purpose, the patriarch Anatolius himself
hinted at his own services in this respect to
the bishop Leo, in a letter addressed to the
latter, which was first published among the
works of Leo, by the brothers Ballerini.
Mansi VII. ἢ. 171,
522 DIOSCURUS DEPOSED.
natures,! so that all confusion, change, and division of the two natures
is excluded.2_ No one should be allowed to profess any other creed
than this; to teach or to think otherwise. d
While all the rest who had been active in the second Ephesian
council, testified their repentance and requested to be forgiven, the
patriarch Dioscurus, on the other hand, persisted in his opposition.
He refused to recognize the judicial authority of the council ; and, after ᾿
having been thrice summoned in the customary form, still remained
firm in his refusal. Meanwhile, in addition to what was objected to
his behavior at the second Ephesian council, many grave charges,
affecting his moral character and his administration of the episcopal
office, were brought against him by Alexandrian ecclesiastics. Instead
of being humbled, he had the boldness himself to excommunicate the
Roman bishop. He was accordingly deprived of all his spiritual titles
and dignities.
But although the person of Dioscurus was sacrificed, even by those
who had previously consented to serve as his instruments, yet the
fanatical hatred of his party towards the Orientals was still manifested
in various ways, and particularly by the outrageous manner in which
the venerable bishop Theodoret was received by the council. When, in
compliance with a petition of his own, the case of Theodoret in the eighth
session of the council was to be taken up, and he accordingly appeared
among the assembled ecclesiastics, and referred to the petition about
to be read as a testimony of his faith, he was constantly interrupted
by the cry: They would allow nothing to be read; all he had to do
was to condemn Nestorius. ‘‘ Speak out clearly, Anathema to Nesto-
rius and his doctrines; anathema to Nestorius and his friends!” It
is easy to see that Theodoret was not prepared to condemn Nestorius
at once and without any farther qualification; but that yet he was
ready to make any sacrifice for the sake of peace, which he could do
consistently with his convictions and with the demands of conscience.
He had no hesitation in condemning what men had become wont to
designate as the Nestorian heresy. We see that Theodoret could now
yield more than he would have been willing to concede at an earlier
period. “Truly,” said he with dignified composure, “I speak not
otherwise than as I know is well-pleasing to God. In the first place, I
would convince you, that my bishopric is not to me so very dear an
interest ; that I am not solicitous for the honor, and that it is not for
the sake of it I have come here, but because I have been calumniated.
of the other party consisted mainly in con-
verting the ἐκ into ἐν. Moreover the ἐκ δύο
φυσέων does not suit the connection: the
verb γνωριζόμενον points rather to the origi-
1 Not only the report of the monk Eu-
thymius (see his account of the life of Cyrfll
in Analectis Grecis, Paris, 1688) and of
Eyagrius prove that the reading of the
Latin copies of the symbol is the correct
one, and the reading of the Greek ἐκ δύο
φυσέων is false; but also the whole course
of proceedings in the council proves this.
Manifestly the earlier symbol, more favora-
ble to the Egyptian system of doctrine, con-
tained the ἐκ δύο φυσέων, and the favoring
nal ἐν. . The ἐν δύο φύσεσι or the ἐκ δύο φυ-
σέων was the turning-point of the whole
controversy between the Monophysites and
the Duophysites.
2’ Aovyxutwc, ἀτρέπτως, ἀδιαιρέτως, ἀχω-
ρίστως.
THEODURET ACQUITTED. 528
1 have come to prove myself an orthodox man, to show you that I
condemn Nestorius and Eutyches, and every man who speaks of two
Sons of God.” Again it was loudly vociferated: “Say anathema to
Nestorius, and to all who think like him.’’ But he was afraid to con-
demn Nestorianism, without having first unfolded what he deemed to
be the pure doctrine, lest some occasion should be given for employing
that vague word Nestorianism, for the purpose of condemning that
which, according to his own convictions, was much rather the true doc-
trine. Hence he said: “If I may not be allowed in the first place to
explain how I believe, I cannot express that anathema ; but I believe”? —
here the bishops cried out: “ He is a heretic; he is a Nestorian; cast
forth the Nestorian.”’ Theodoret then said: ‘* Anathema to Nestorius,
and to every one who calls not Mary the mother of God, and who
divides the one only-begotten Son into two sons. I have subscribed
the confession of faith and the letter of the bishop Leo; and so I
believe. Farewell.” The emperor’s commissioners thereupon de-
clared that Theodoret had now given sufficient proof of his orthodoxy,
and it only remained, that, as he had been justified by the Roman
bishop, he should be restored to his church. To this proposal of the
court, the assembly now acceded by acclamation.!
Again, an incident which happened during the fourth action of the
council foreshadowed what was to be expected from the dominant ᾿
fanaticism in Egypt. Ten aged bishops from this country declined to
anathematize at once, as they were required to do, the doctrines of
Eutyches, and to subscribe the letter of Leo to Flavian. Such was
the despotic authority of the Alexandrian bishops over the Egyptian
church, that they declared it impossible for them, according to the
church laws, to act in this case independently: they must wait for the
1 Amidst these scenes at Chalcedon, we
no longer perceive in Theodoret that con-
stancy and firmness with which he had
hitherto defended his innocent friend. He
appears no longer faithful even to those
professions which he earlier expressed ; yet
this may have been the effect of a momen-
tary weakness. He may have deemed it
best to yield for the moment to the fury of
blind zealots, who would not listen to the
voice of reason; especially as he explicitly
stated, that with the name Nestorius he
really condemned only a particular error,
to express which men had been pleased to
coin this term, — and it is easy to see that
he felt himself placed under constraint.
But in the ‘strongest contrast with his for-
mer behavior stands the way in which he
speaks, as, for instance, near the conclusion,
in one of his latest works, his account of
the heresies, (αἱρετικῆς κακομυϑίας ἐπιτομῆ.)
respecting his old friend ; where he describes
him as an instrument of Satan; as a man
who by his pride plunged the church into
disorders; who, under the pretext of ortho-
doxy, introduced at one and the same time
the denial of the divinity and of the incar-
nation of the only-begotten Son; one who
met at last with the punishment he desery-
ed, and the premonitory sign of his future
punishment. Fear of the blind zealets alone
assuredly could not lead him thus to con-
tradict himself; vexation at the disorders
which had grown out of Nestorius’ attack
upon the term ϑεότοκος, (with which even
he was not satistied,) must in the end have
cast a shade in his soul on the memory of
the author of those disturbances. But,
nevertheless, we have here a melancholy
proof of human weakness in a man who
otherwise appears to us as a light in an age
of darkness. Fain would we agree with
those who have considered this clause to be
spurious, were there not so much stronger
reasons for the contrary supposition, and
were it possible also to consider the letter
addressed to Sporacius on the Nestorian
heresy an interpolated piece, derived for the
most part from that latter clause. For the
rest, Theodoret perhaps spent the last six
or seven years of his life, as he designed to
do, ep. 146, in seclusion and in the occupa-
tion of writing.
524 MONOPHYSITE CONTROVERSY.
decision of the new patriarch of Alexandria, who was still to be
elected, and govern themselves accordingly. In vain it was objected,
that they ought not in matters of religious conviction to make them-
selves dependent on the authority of any individual man; and that the
sentence of the general council must possess more force than that of
an individual bishop. They implored the council to allow them indul-
gence, because in their own country they could not be certain of their.
lives if they ventured: to declare themselves independent of their patri-
arch. This delay was finally granted them, under the condition that
they should not leave Ephesus until the new patriarch was elected.
The council of Chalcedon, by proceeding in this manner, could not,
of course, secure the object they had in view, which was to effect a
union of the two parties. The weak spots which this assembly dis-
covered by the inward contradictions brought to view during the course
of its proceedings; the exchange of one confession of faith for another ;
the influence of court policy on the final result—all this was, of
course, ill suited to procure authority for the decisions of this council
in the minds of those who entertained other opinions.?
When so passionate a fanaticism in favor of the Egyptian monophy-
sitism had manifested itself at this council of Chalcedon, it was no
wonder that it should soon be more widely spread by the adherents of Di-
oscurus on their return home; and that it should find its way among the
swarms of wild and untutored monks who were used to these formulas,
and produce among them the most violent agitations. In the doctrine
of the two natures, these people saw nothing but pure Nestorianism, a
dividing of the one Christ into two Sons of God, two persons. That
he who is supreme oyer nature was still born in the natural way, — this,
they declared, was enough for them to know. The how was what they
could not explain.2 This was the germ of the Monophysite controver-
sies, so disastrous to the Oriental church, so pernicious to practical
Christianity.
’ Palestine and Egypt were, at first, the chief seats of this contro-
versy. The fanatical monk Theodosius, who returned from the Chal-
cedonian council to Palestine, conveyed thither the seeds of discord.
He attached himself to the party of the deceased emperor’s widow
Eudocia, and soon ruled supreme in all the cloisters. He set every
thing in commotion, raging furiously against all who would not secede
from the Chalcedonian council. The patriarch Juvenalis of Jerusalem
was banished from his city, and Theodosius himself nominated patri-
_ 1 The Monophysites well understood how
to avail themselves of these weak spots
laid open by the council, as we may see
from the charges they brought against it ; to
which Leontius of Byzantium or Jerusalem,
at the end of the sixth century, replied in
his work against the Nestorians and the
Eutychians. See this work in the Greek
original, published by Mansi, Concil. VII.
f.799. Ifthe charge brought by the Mono-
physites (f. 813) really implied that many
votes at the council had been purchased
ty
with gold, this accusation would assuredly
be confirmed by the bad defence of Leon-
tius. But this does not lie in the words:
they speak only of simony in the appoint-
ment of bishops. The word χειροτονίαι
must be understood to refer, not to a vote in
the council, but to ordinations.
2 In the petition of the monks from Pal-
estine: The μὴ χρῆναι φυσιόλογειν' πῶς
γεννᾷ κατὰ φύσιν͵ τὸν ὑπὲρ φύσιν. Harduin
Concil. II. f. 672.
SCHISM AT ALEXANDRIA. 525
arch there by his party. Similar things occurred in other cities.
Provinces were wasted with fire and sword; Theodosius deposed and
appointed bishops. It was finally necessary to check this evil by
resorting to forcible measures.
The second theatre of these contests was Egypt, and particularly
Alexandria. There Proterius had been nominated patriarch in the
place of the deposed Dioscurus; but, from what we have already seen
taking place at Chalcedon, we may easily gather that Dioscurus would
still have a weighty party in his favor. ‘There arose a schism, which
gave rise to the most violent disorders. It became necessary to call in
the aid of soldiers: the attempt to suppress the schism by force only
served, as usual, to exasperate men’s minds, and many scenes of vio-
lence ensued. Finally, quiet was restored, and so it continued as long
as Marcian lived; although the Monophysite party, headed by the
presbyter Timotheus Ailurus, continued to subsist as a separate and
distinct one. But as the Monophysite party, after the death of this
emperor in 457, indulged the expectation of finding a more favorable
disposition in his successor, they ventured to appoint and to ordain
Timotheus as their patriarch. The attempt made by the military com-
mandant, to put an end to the difficulties by force, led to a tumult, in
which Proterius was murdered. Both parties now applied to the
emperor with petitions. The latter, being aware of the great impor-
tance of the Monophysite party, was the more desirous of removing
the schism by means of some mutual agreement, without resorting to
force. He begged the Roman bishop Leo the Great to come himself:
to the East, and direct the negotiations. But Leo had no inclination
to do this. Moreover, he was of the opinion that no concessions ought
to be made at the expense of doctrines expressed by a council under
the guidance of the Holy Ghost; but that these must only be strictly
maintained. ‘The bad result of a general council assembled for the
purpose of restoring peace having at last been made evident by the.
example of the council of Chalcedon, the emperor made trial of another
expedient. He issued a command to all the metropolitans to consult
with their bishops respecting the manner in which the council of Chal-
cedon and the ordination of Timotheus ought to be regarded and
treated, and to report to him the result of their deliberations. Dis-
tinguished above others for a wise moderation, rare in this age, was
the opinion expressed on this occasion by the bishops of Pamphylia.
We here meet with a distinction lying far remote from the fanatical
habits of doctrinal conception peculiar to this period — the distinction
between that which belongs to the essence of Christian faith, and that
which belongs to the exactness of doctrinal definitions requisite for the
development of theology. ‘‘ Those definitions,” said they, “ were
drawn up by the Roman bishop Leo, and by the council of Chalcedon,
not for this purpose of having them pass to the laity, and give offence
to them; but they were designed for the priests, that they might have
wherewith to answer gainsayers. The doctrine concerning the union
of two natures in one Christ was not employed for the instruction of
eatechumens, but only for the purposes of theological discussion.
526 MONOPHYSITE CONTROVERSY.
They were of the opinion that there ought to be no dispute on the
questions, whether Christ sudbsisted in two natures, or consisted of two
natures, and whether we should speak of one nature of the Word
which became man: the only important thing was, that the union of
the two natures should be maintained, but without being confounded.
They recommended the condescending indulgence, of which Christ was
the pattern, as the best and readiest means of reclaiming errorists, and’
of restoring tranquillity.1
Since the majority of voices, however, now maintained the authority
of the council of Chalcedon, and were opposed to the ordination of
Timotheus Ailurus, the emperor Leo resolved that he would put an end
to the difficulties by force. In the year 460, Timotheus Ailurus was
banished to Cherson, and in his place Timotheus Salophaciolus was
appointed patriarch of Alexandria. The mild character of the latter
enabled him for the moment to do something towards restoring tran-
quillity.
So much the more violent, however, was the ferment which ensued,
when, by a political revolution, the hitherto oppressed party of the
Monophysites at once obtained the preponderance. ‘This took place in
476, when Basiliscus succeeded in expelling the emperor Zeno, succes-
sor to his father-in-law Leo in the year 474, from the imperial throne,
and securing it for himself. Whether the fact was that he had not
attamed to this high eminence without the aid of the Monophysite
party, or whether he hoped to find in this party an important support, he
showed from the beginning that it was his purpose to make it the ruling
party in the East. He was the first to publish decisions on matters of
faith by imperial laws ; for, in entering on his reign, he issued a circular
letter (ἐγκύκλιον) to be signed by all the bishops on pain of being
deposed from their office; whereby it was established, that the Nicene
creed, together with the several decrees in confirmation of it passed at
the councils of Constantinople and Ephesus, should alone be valid ;
while, on the other hand, the Chalcedonian symbol and the letter of
Leo were condemned as standing at variance with this, and ordered to
be burned wherever they might be found. Many of the bishops
readily complied with the imperial command; partly such as, being
rather inclined of themselves to adopt the Monophysite opinion, had
only been moved by the ruling power to accept the Chalcedonian arti-
cles; and partly such as were always in the habit of shaping their
opinions according to the doctrinal tendency of the court.
At Alexandria, the victory of the Monophysite party would take
place without any violent struggle ; for this party had there a natural
preponderance. ‘Timotheus Ailurus resumed his patriarchate, and the
mild Timotheus Salophaciolus quietly returned back to his cloister.
But violent commotions arose in many districts, where hitherto the
party of the Chalcedonian council had prevailed; and enthusiastic
monks, who exercised the greatest influence over the people, stirred
them up to resistance against the imperial command. ‘The patriarch
1 See Harduin. Concil. T. II. f. 731.
SCHISM AT ALEXANDRIA. 527
Acacius of Constantinople, although waveringshimself, yet took cour-
age from the strength of the zealots, to show resistance to the emperor.
And as, in addition to this, Zeno had, in the mean time, strengthened
his power, Basiliscus issued in 477 a second circular, (ἀντεγκύκλιον,}
whereby the first was revoked. Soon after this, the victory of Zeno,
who once more made himself master of the empire, changed the whole
face of affairs.
This emperor was the more firmly resolved in the outset to do all in
his power to advance the party of the council of Chalcedon, because
doubtless he was especially indebted to this party for the recovery of
his throne, and because his political interests would make him hostile to
the other party, which Basiliscus had favored. This change of court
orthodoxy: was soon followed by the usual consequences attending such
lamentable dependence of the church on the state. Those same bishops
of Asia Minor who, under the preceding reign, had defended them-
selves before the emperor Basiliscus against the charge of having only
subscribed his circular letter by constraint, and from motives of fear;
who had styled this document, in their communication to him, a divine
and apostolic letter ;! who had declared to him that the world must go
to ruin, if he did not uphold the authority of his religious edict ; who
called on him to depose the patriarch Acacius from his seat, — these
same bishops now testified to this very patriarch their repentance ;
writing to him, that they had subscribed the circular letter of Basiliscus,
not from conviction, but because they were compelled to it; but that in
their faith they really agreed with that which had been piously and
rightly determined at the council of Chalcedon.?
This change must have had a very great influence, especially on the
condition of the Alexandrian church, in which the Monophysite party
was ever predominant. ‘Timotheus Ailurus was allowed, it is true,
peacefully to end the few remaining days of his old age in the patri-
archal office; but when, after his death in 477, the Monophysite party.
proceeded to choose the archdeacon Petrus Mongus as his successor,
the emperor looked upon this as an insurrection ; he pronounced sen-
tence of death on Petrus Mongus, and the latter seems to have escaped
the execution of this sentence only by flight. It was ordered that
Timotheus Salophaciolus should be restored to the patriarchate of
Alexandria. The emperor threatened all laymen and ecclesiastics
who should not within two months recognize Salophaciolus as their
patriarch, with the loss of all their dignities and churches, and with
exile.? The restored patriarch Timotheus was enabled for the moment,
by his moderation and gentleness, to preserve quiet at Alexandria.
He presented a rare example for this age; protecting instead of perse-
cuting the Monophysite party,— insomuch that the emperor had to
1 The eiov,—divinum,—the usual de- 2 Comp. Evagr. hist. eccles. ITT. ¢. 5 and 9
signation, indeed, derived from the pagan 8 See the letters of the Roman bishop
times, and applied to whatever came from Felix III. to the patriarch Acacius, and to
the emperor; but it was bad enough in the emperor Zeno.
bishops, when speaking of religious matters,
to imitate such phraseology.
528 MONOPHYSITE CONTROVERSY.
admonish him to use greater severity towards the heretics, and noi
allow them to hold their church assemblies and to baptize ; but, notwith-
standing this, he still continued to pursue the same course of conduct.
Hence he was universally esteemed by the Alexandrians; and they
would call out to him in the streets and in the churches: ‘“ Although
we have no church-fellowship with you, yet we love you.” 1
But after the death of Timotheus Salophaciolus, which soon ensued,
there arose a new schism. ‘The party which was by far the most
numerous, that of the Monophysites, chose for their patriarch the arch-
deacon Petrus Mongus: the minor party of the Chalcedonian council
chose the chief treasurer of the Alexandrian church, John Talaya.
The emperor at first was resolved to approve the choice of the Chalce-
donian faction alone ; but a complication of events led him to change
his mind.
John Talaya, at that time presiding as presbyter over the churches
on the island of Tabennz, had been sent by the patriarch Timotheus
Salophaciolus, after the latter had been reinstated in his office by the
emperor Zeno, on a mission to Constantinople, in company with Genna-
dius, a kinsman of the patriarch, and bishop of Lower Hermupolis.
Gennadius remained behind at Constantinople, and had there acquired
great influence as plenipotentiary or agent (apocrisiarius) of the Egyp-
tian patriarch. John Talaya, however, had entered into a connection
with Illus, one of the first men of the empire, to whom the emperor
was in part indebted for the recovery of his throne; and probably at
this time Illus engaged, perhaps not without the assurance of receiving
a splendid remuneration from Talaya, that he would procure for him
the patriarchate after the death of the aged Timotheus. For this
reason, after his return to Egypt, Talaya gave up his office in the
church at Tabennze, and resumed the post which he had before occupied
at Alexandria, so that he might be ready, on the death of Timotheus,
immediately to make such arrangements as would secure the attain-
ment of his object, beyond all fear of a failure. From this place he
sent many and valuable presents to Illus. Relying on the patronage
of this powerful man, he deemed it the less necessary to secure the
good will of Gennadius, whom he had left behind at Constantinople, or
of the patriarch himself; and by this neglect he made them both his
enemies. The deputy whom he sent with his inaugural letter (ἐνθρονίσ-
twa) to Constantinople, was instructed not to present this immediately
to the patriarch, but first inquire after his patron, the influential
Illus, and to proceed in all respects as he should direct. But as the
latter was then at Antioch, the deputy of John Talaya set off for that
city, without presenting his letter to the patriarch.2 By this unex-
ampled neglect of the honor due to him as bishop of the imperial
residence, the patriarch Acacius was completely disgusted; and, as
Illus soon after rebelled against the emperor, Acacius was the more
1 See Liberati Diaconi breviarium caus 2 See Liberat..c. 16 and 17, and Theo
Nestorianorum et Eutychianorum, ed. Gar- phanes’ chronography.
nier, pag. 108.
ZENO’S HENOTICON. 529
easily enabled to make John Talaya hateful also to the emperor Zeno.
Peter Mongus, the head of the Monophysite party, was cunning enough
to turn these circumstances to his own advantage. He visited Con-
stantinople in person, and pointed out the danger to which the exaspe-
ration of the numerous party of the Monophysites might expose the
tranquillity of the state, if a patriarch were thrust upon them whom
they could not approve. He proposed, on the other hand, a treaty by
which he hoped to unite all in one church. Acacius entered into this
scheme, and persuaded the emperor to favor it. ‘The latter issued, in
the year 482, a treaty of agreement addressed to the churches of the
Alexandrian patriarchate, which, by omitting the expressions employed
in the disputed questions, and abiding only by general terms, was
expected to bring about the removal of this opposition. It was here
determined, that no other creed should be valid than the Nicene-Con-
stantinopolitan symbol, which had been confirmed at Ephesus. A sym-
bolical authority was given to the anathemas of Cyrill; and, without
mentioning names and persons, or the nature of the dispute, it was
declared that Christ is one and not two,! since miracles and sufferings
were referred to one and the same person. Moreover, sentence of
condemnation was pronounced on Nestorianism and Eutychianism, but
also on all who taught or had taught contrary to these articles,
whether at Chalcedon, or in any other synod or place whatsoever.”
This concordate was now designed, in the purpose of the emperor,
to serve as a basis for the peace of the church. Those among the
Monophysites who agreed to subscribe it should, without being required
to give up their peculiar opinions, be received by the other party into
the communion of the church; and also the latter should be left free
to retain their peculiar doctrines, and for themselves to maintain the
authority of the council of Chalcedon, and of Leo’s letter to Flavian.
But without interfering with these differences, the concordate should
stand valid as the basis of church fellowship, and neither party should.
stigmatize the other as heretical. But such an object was not to be
attained in this way. The zealous Monophysites demanded an explicit
condemnation of the council of Chalcedon, and of the letter to Flavian ;
and as they separated from the moderates, who were satisfied with the
concordate, without having any principal leader, they were from hence-
forth designated as the headless sect, (Acephaloi.) Now when those
bishops who chiefly agreed with this party in their doctrinal opinions,
allowed themselves to be influenced by their respect for it, they lost
the confidence of those with whom, by means of the compromise, they
had concluded a peace. On the other hand, the zealous adherents of
the Chalcedonian council were far from being satisfied with a written
contract in which this council was spoken of in such disparaging
terms; and all who accepted the compromise appeared to them as
Monophysites. Thus it happened, that the henoticon, instead of dog
away the schism, only made it worse than it was before. Instead of
two parties, there were now four; the zealots on both sides, and the
1 Ἔν τύγχανειν καὶ ob δύο. 2 Evagr. III. 14.
VOL. II.
530 MONOPHYSITE LEADERS. — XENAYAS —
moderates of the two parties who accepted the compromise. The warm
adherents of the Chalcedonian council found great sympathy in the
Roman church, and these stigmatized the dominant party of the Orien-
tal church as heretical. A schism between the Hastern and the
Western church was the consequence of this.
While these commotions growing out of the henoticon were still in
progress, the emperor Zeno, A.D. 491, died, and was succeeded by
Anastasius. The latter was only desirous of preserving peace and of
silencing the heretic-makers on both sides; and for this reason he
would not suffer the treaty of coalition to drop. But this moderation,
proceeding from motives of policy, could only make him an object of
suspicion to the zealots; and as he would tolerate nothing which was
opposed to his plans, in seeking to preserve peace, he appeared in the
light of a persecutor. Serious disturbances, arising out of the struggle
between the two parties, broke out during this emperor’s reign, in
Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and Constantinople ; and his efforts to compel
the enthusiasts to moderation were attended with no other result than
to render the commotions more violent. As he exerted himself with
the most vigor to repress the enthusiasts near by, in Constantinople
itself, he must of course become suspected of favoring the Monophy-
sites. In the patriarch of Constantinople he found a violent antagonist.
By the patriarch Euphemius, the orthodoxy of the emperor had been
suspected from the first; he had consented to his taking the
throne, only on condition that the emperor should give him a written
assurance, that he would attempt to do nothing against the authority
of the Chalcedonian council. Anastasius soon endeavored to get rid
of him, which he could not do without exciting a tumult among the
people. ‘The presbyter Macedonius, in whom, until now, no one had
ever witnessed any symptom of passionate zeal, was nominated his
successor; but he too must soon incur the imperial displeasure, since
he was not willing to lose his character for orthodoxy among the zealots
of the party attached to the Chalcedonian council; and therefore con-
nected himself more closely with them than suited the emperor’s plans.
Besides this, two men of vigorous activity now took the lead of the
hitherto headless but zealous Monophysite party ; and, in other districts,
disturbances arose, the influence of which spread to Constantinople.
One of these persons, Xenayas, of Tahal in Persia, had already con-
tended zealously against the Nestorians in his own country. After-
wards, he had betaken himself to Syria; and the Monophysite patriarch
of Alexandria, Peter the clothier, so called after the trade which he
pursued as a monk,}! (originally one of the monks associated with
Hutyches at Constantinople,) had made him bishop of the city of
Hieropolis or Mabug. By the same dignitary his name also was
changed into the Greek form Philoxenos, and by this name he is best
known as the promoter of the so-called Philoxenian Syriac translation
of the New Testament. But with the successor of this Monophysite
patriarch, with Flavian, who was more inclined to the doctrines of the
1 Πέτρος ὃ κναφεύς.
SEVERUS. DISTURBANCES AT CONSTANTINOPLE. 531
᾿ Chaleedonian council, his zeal in giving spread to the Monophysite
doctrines involved him in a quarrel; for though Flavian was willing to
purchase peace by yielding many points, yet nothing could induce him
expressly to condemn the doctrine of the two natures. Violent con-
tests ensued, which spread even to the adjacent Palestine.
The second of these two new leaders of the Monophysite party was
Severus, who came from Sozopolis in Pisidia. While a Pagan, he had
devoted himself to the study of the law, in the famous law-school at
Berytum, and afterwards became an advocate. At Tripoli in Pho-
nicia he received baptism, became a monk, and united himself with a
society of zealous Monophysites. Banished by a hostile party, he came
with a number of his companions to Constantinople, to seek protection
from the emperor. He told him that the defence of the Chalcedonian
council was the cause of all the disturbances; he sought to introduce a
certain addition to the old and venerated church song, the trisagion,
(the thrice holy, from Isa. 6,) which might serve as the basis of a coali-
tion between the two parties. Some time before, the above-named
Monophysite church-teacher, Peter the clothier, had already added, to
one of the invocations to God in that church hymn, the clause, Thou
who wast crucified for us, (ὁ σταυρώϑεις δ ἡμᾶς.) The transfer of predi-
cates, which was expressed in this clause, in fact perfectly comcided
with the Monophysite type of doctrime ; but it might also, in another
sense, precisely after the same manner as the term ϑεότοκος had already
been adopted into the church phraseology, be admitted by the Duophy-
sites as being opposed to Nestorianism; and so, by this opposite refer- -
ence of the same term, both parties might come together. Of this
ambiguity Severus availed himself; but in the then existing ferment
of minds at Constantinople, this addition appeared as a crass Monophy-
sitism, as impinging on the immutability of the divine essence; and
this innovation met with the most determined resistance. While, in the
public worship of God, one party sang the old church hymn in its sim- -
ple form, the other burst in, loudly vociferating the added words.
Thus the very solemnities of worship were profaned by expressions of
worldly passion, and even by bloody contests. As the rumor spread
that the emperor favored the addition to the church hymn, and was
threatening to remove the patriarch Macedonius, a violent tumult broke
forth. The houses of many of the grandees were burned; a monk,
who was supposed to be the author of the addition, was seized by the
infuriate populace and murdered, and his head was carried about Ἰὴ
triumph stuck upon a pole. Then appeared the emperor at the circus
before the assembled people, without his crown. He declared himself
willing to lay down the government; but all could not reign at once,
one must be sovereign. These words had their effect on the excited
multitude ; the people besought the emperor to retain the government,
and promised tranquillity. ‘The emperor took advantage of this favor-
able moment: he caused the patriarch Macedonius to be removed, and
Timotheus, a presbyter who had accepted the henoticon, was appointed
his successor. Meanwhile, the emperor saw himself under the neces-
sity, for many reasons, of yielding to the fury of the exasperated
882 THE EMPEROR JUSTIN.
party of the Chalcedonian council, where this predominated. By this
exasperation, aid and comfort was given to the insurrection of the
military commander Vitalian, which broke out in the year 514; and
Anastasius found himself compelled to enter into conditions of peace,
to the advantage of the adherents of the Chalcedonian council. He
promised to assemble a council at Heraclea in Thrace, and moreover to
Invite the assistance of the Roman bishop, so that, above all things,
the church-fellowship might thus be restored with the latter, which
amounted to no more nor less than that the Chalcedonian council should
be reinstated in its authority; for no hope certainly could be enter-
tained of making peace with the Roman church, on any other terms
than these. Yet Anastasius sought to put off the fulfilment of these
irksome conditions as long as he could; and the difficulties which were
raised by the Roman church in conducting the negotiations for peace,
facilitated his plans. The enthusiasm for the Chalcedonian council,
and the hatred of Monophysitism and of the emperor Anastasius, who
was considered to be its champion, did but mount so much the higher
after that emperor’s death, and at the commencement of the reign of
his successor Justin, in 518.
When John, the patriarch of Constantinople under the new govern-
ment, made his first appearance at the public worship, he was received
by the assembled people with loud shouts, demanding that since the
Manichean Anastasius no longer reigned, but the orthodox Justin, the
authority of the Chalcedonian council should once more be publicly
recognized ; that the anathema should be pronounced on Severus, and
on all the leaders of the Monophysite party; that all Monophysites
should be removed from the imperial court and from the capital ;! and
that fellowship should be restored with the Roman church. The assem-
bled multitude did not desist from their impetuous outcries, till the
patriarch yielded. Similar demands of ecclesiastics, monks, and laity,
came also from other churches. As the emperor Justin, a rude Thra-
of it, he might purchase votes in favor of
Theocritus. But Justin used the gold in
behalf of himself, and became emperor.
Of course he must now stand in dread of
1 See the protocol in the acts of the coun-
cil under Mennas, Harduin. T. II. f. 1334
and 1355. ‘The hatred was _ particularly
manifested against the powerful lord cham-
berlain (Preepositus sacri cubiculi) Aman-
tius. The multitude shouted, in allusion to
him: Tov λῆρον τοῦ παλατίου ἔξω Bare. He
must doubtless have had great influence
under Anastasius, in promoting Monophy-
sitism ; for, in calling upon the patriarch
publicly to declare himself, it was exclaimed,
that, under the reign of a Justin, he needed
have no fear of Amantius: Οὐ φοβῆσαι
᾿Αμαντίον τὸν Maviyaior, Ἰούστινος βασιλευεῖ,
1. 6. Harduin. f. 1339. This Amantius,
however, was hated and suspected by the
emperor Justin; for he had conceived the
project of making a certain count The-
ocritus emperor, through whom he might
hope to be ruler himself. He had for this
purpose given a sum of money to Justin,
then commander of the emperor’s body-
guard, in order that, by a skilful distribution
Amantius; and hence soon caused him to
be executed. See Evagr.1.1V.c. 2, The-
ophanes, Chronograph. at the commence-
ment of the reign of Justin. The assassin-
ation of Amantius, however, was deemed a
judgment on the heretic. See the popular
exclamation in an assembly in the church
at Tyre, which likewise demanded the con-
demnation of the Monophysites. Harduin.
lie. ἢ 1959. ᾿Απέϑανεν ᾿Αμάντις ὁ ἀντάρτης
τῆς τρίαδος. We discern here the hidden
connection betwixt the plots of political
and theological parties. The fear of the
infection of Monophysitism was in many
districts so great, that in Tyre, for example,
the Egyptian dealers in wood were not suf-
fered to remain in the city, lest they right
spread the Monophysite heresy beyond
Egypt. Lc. 1355.
JUSTINIAN. THEODORA. ANTHIMUS. 533
cian, who took no interest himself in theological disputes, was governed
by his two chief ministers, Vitalian and Justinian, who warmly espoused
the doctrines of the Chalcedonian council, he would very easily be
persuaded to every measure which favored the interests of this party.
New negotiations were entered into with the Roman bishop Hormisdas,
and men were ready to consent to all the conditions prescribed by that
bishop for the restoration of church-fellowship. Among these was the
severe one, that the names of all the bishops who, under the preceding
reign, had accepted the henoticon, or attached themselves to the Mono-
physite party, should be expunged from the church records. To
anathematize the leaders of the Monophysite party was a point which
might be easily secured; nor was there any hesitation at Constantinople
even to surrender the patriarch Acacius to the popular will. But, in
many districts, ecclesiastics and churches were not at all disposed to
sacrifice the memory of their beloved bishops: they would not suffer
themselves to be moved to this by arguments or by threats. New
schisms and bloody disturbances were to be feared, if they were forced
to this. The emperor himself, therefore, requested the Roman bishop
to yield a little on this point.1 The Monophysite clergymen, however,
were deposed from their places. Severus, who had managed to make
himself patriarch of Antioch, was threatened with a severer fate
through the vengeance of the commander Vitalian, who had been
injured by him; but he saved himself by fleeing to Egypt, where he
met with a friendly reception from his Monophysite fellow-believers.
There the party was too strong to be prudently attacked.
Justinian, the successor of this emperor, from the year 527, meant
to be considered a zealous champion of the Chalcedonian orthodoxy.
Intermeddling in theological disputes was with him a favorite passion ;
and he would very willingly have been lawgiver to the church, in the
same sense as he was to the state: but the more he acted, or supposed
he acted, by his own impulse, the more he served as the tool of others, .
who knew how to influence him by taking advantage of his weakness.
Thus was he often obliged to subserve interests to which he was alto-
gether opposed in his own intentions. In particular, his wife Theodora,
who governed him, and who was herself attached to Monophysitism,
successfully plotted many a scheme for the advantage of the Monophy-
site party, which he abhorred. She even went so far as to cause to be
formed, under the very eyes of the emperor at Constantinople, a
Monophysite society, whose branches extended through all parts of the
empire, and to procure that a Monophysite should be elevated to the
episcopate of the imperial residence ; and every thing was prepared to
raise up the Monophysites from their state of oppression to being the
dominant party. Her principal agent in accomplishing all this was a
person by the name of Anthimus. He had once been bishop over the
church at Trapezund in Pontus ; but, without waiting to be regularly
dismissed from the pastoral relation, he had left his flock for the pur-
1 See the correspondence between the patriarch of Constantinople, the emperor
Justin, and the Roman bishop Hormisdas.
45*
VOL. II.
δ84 AGAPETUS AGAINST ANTHIMUS.
pose, as he pretended, of having it in his power to lead a perfectly
Christian life as a monk; but probably, if we may judge from the
sequel, he was led to this step, like so many others, by more doubtful
motives; and the truth was, that the court life had more charms for
him than the administering of a pastoral office distinguished by no
outward splendor, in an insignificant town. He betook himself to
Constantinople ; there his ascetic garb procured for him distinguished
consideration ; he gained the confidence of the empress Theodora, and
the alternate residence at the court and at a pleasant villa near Con-
stantinople? suited him better than his former secluded life in the
pastoral office. This person now drew around him all the most impor-
tant men of the Monophysite party, who, under the protection of Theo-
dora, visited Constantinople; and amongst these was Severus. At
length, by the management of Theodora, Anthimus, in the year 535,
was nominated patriarch of Constantinople.? Of a surety, the emperor
Justinian, who was so zealously orthodox, entertained no other idea
than that his bishop was a staunch adherent of the Chalcedonian
council. And perhaps the trick would have lasted still longer, and the
cunning Theodora would have succeeded in accomplishing still more,
if the whole plan had not been frustrated by an accident quite unfore-
seen, after the deception had been kept up no longer than a year. It
happened, that the Roman bishop Agapetus visited Constantinople as
ambassador of the Hast Gothic king Theodoric. Many dissatisfied
ecclesiastics and monks took this opportunity of presenting to the
Roman bishop, who had less to fear than others from the anger of the
empress, and could therefore act more independently at the court, a
formal complaint against the bishop Anthimus, charging him partly
with erroneous doctrines, and partly with unjustifiable proceedings to
obtain the patriarchate of Constantinople. The Roman bishop required
him to prove his orthodoxy by a confession of faith, and (in accordance
with the church laws of the West, which forbade the transfer of bishops)
to return back from the patriarchate of Constantinople to his earlier
bishopric, which he had voluntarily abandoned. As Anthimus could
not consent to this, Agapetus excommunicated him from the fellowship
of the church, and moreover avoided all intercourse with him. The
empress was unable to change the mind of the Roman bishop either by
promises or by threats. When, through his influence, Justinian came
to see how grossly he had been deceived, his indignation knew no
bounds. Anthimus was deposed; and at the recommendation of Aga-
petus, the presbyter Mennas, superintendant of the great hospital at
‘Constantinople, was nominated patriarch.*
The new patriarch, in the year 536, invited the bishops who hap-
pened to be then present in Constantinople, to meet in a synod (σύνοδος
1Jn the first action of the council under 8 Procopius, in his secret history of the
Mennas, it says: Οὕτος ἐκ πόλλου τὴν ἰδίαν - court, (hist. arcana,) 6. 17, says of Theo-
ἐκκλησίαν καταλίπων, καὶ πεπλασμένον βίον dora: Αὐτὴ τὰς τὲ ἀρχας καὶ τὰς ἱερώσυνας
ἐγκρατείας ἀναλάβων. F, 1195, 1. c. ἐχειροτόνει. :
2 His προαστείον, act. IV. sub Menna, 4 See Concil. sub Menna, act. Liberati
f. 1243. breviar. c. 21
VIGILIUS, BISHOP OF ROME. 535
ἐνδημοῦσα) for the purpose of putting a final seal on the condemnation
of Monophysitism, and its defenders. The emperor Justinian accom-
panied the decrees of this council with a confirmatory law, altogether
worthy of his despotic spirit: “‘ The leaders of the Monophysite party
should keep away from the residence and from all the more important
cities; they should live quietly and without disturbance as private
persons, and take good care how they corrupted others, and led them
into blasphemy. The writings of Severus should be burned, and none
should be permitted either to own or to transcribe them. Every person
who dared to transcribe them should suffer the loss of his right hand.’’ !
When the empress Theodora saw her plans defeated, she still did
not relinquish her object; but, fruitful of intrigues, endeavored to effect
it in another way. She cultivated the acquaintance of the deacon
Vigilius, who had come to Constantinople in the retinue of the Roman
bishop Agapetus. The ambition of this unprincipled man led her to
hope, that she might convert him into a suitable instrument for accom-
plishing her designs. Agapetus having died, either, as some report,
before he left Constantinople, or, according to others, while on his jour-
ney home, she held out to Vigilius the promise of a large sum of
money and of the Roman bishopric, if he would pledge himself to
overthrow the authority of the Chalcedonian council, and to testify in
writing that he agreed in faith with Anthimus, and likewise with the
other leaders of the Monophysite party. Vigilius consented to the
conditions, and the whole intrigue was managed and conducted between
two women. Antonina, the wife of the Greek general Belisarius,
whose successful campaigns had extended the power of the East Roman
empire in Italy, was the confidant of the empress and of her plans,
and employed to codperate with her in carrying them into execution.
She worked upon her husband.
In the mean time, Silverius had already been appointed the succes-
sor of Agapetus. It was now necessary for him either to make the
same engagements which Vigilius had made, or else give place for the
latter. But,as he would not consent to sacrifice his convictions for any
temporal advantage, he was falsely accused of a design to betray Rome
to the Goths, the enemies of the Greek empire, which accusation might
derive some color of truth from the fact of the friendly relations for-
merly existing between the bishop and the king of the East Goths, and
it was an easy matter for the faithless Greeks to fabricate records and
testimonies. Silverius accordingly was banished, and Vigilius appointed
bishop in the year 538.
More eould be obtained from him, inasmuch as the cause of the
faith stood with him in very slight account. In truth, he had but a
very imperfect acquaintance with the controversies relating to it, and
the interest he took in them was as slight as his knowledge of them.
He confided to the hands of Antonina a letter addressed to Anthimus
and the other leaders of the Monophysite party, in which he really
expressed opinions wholly in accordance with the Monophysite views,
1 Harduin. Concil. T. IT. f. 1406,
536 NEW INTRIGUES OF THEODORA. ORIGENISTS.
and signified his agreement in faith with them; but at the same time
he craftily requested them, in order that he might keep on good terms
with all parties, to be careful not to divulge what he had written, but
rather to put on the appearance of being particularly suspicious about
his faith, so that he might the more easily accomplish what he had
undertaken.
While Vigilius then was thus bent on serving two parties, one secretly,
the other openly, it- was out of the power of Theodora to execute
through him a single one of her projects; for he took good care not to
make any public declaration in accordance with her views. She thus
found that her money and her intrigues had been expended to no pur-
pose ; and, in being deceived herself in attempting to deceive others, she
met the deserved punishment of cunning perfidy.
But, notwithstanding this, she did not yet give up her object; and in
the irresistible propensity of the emperor Justinian to decide on mat-
ters which he did not understand, in the various manifold strifes
between the theological parties at court, and in the unprincipled char-
acter of Vigilius, she could still find means that flattered her with a
more favorable prospect of accomplishing that object, or at least of
involving the opponents of Monophysitism in a quarrel among them-
selves. The opportunity for doing this was as follows: The old Syrian
church-teachers, Theodore of Mopsuestia, Theodoret, and Ibas of
Edessa, had, from the first, been special objects of the fanatical hatred
and the heresy-hunting spirit of the Monophysite party. In the secret
bargain which had procured for Vigilius the title of Roman bishop, he
had pledged himself also to anathematize Theodore and Theodoret.!
From what had happened in a different quarter, the Monophysite
court-party, who no longer dared to speak loud, found it in their power
to unite with another party at court governed by a doctrinal interest
entirely different from their own, for the accomplishment of this plan,
which, as we see from the engagement entered into by Vigilius, had
been long before projected. We must here cast a glance at certain
events, which we shall notice more fully in another connection, but
here only in a cursory manner.
The doctrines and writings of Origen, with which but few in the
Oriental church were then accurately acquainted, and which in the,
Western church were wholly unknown, had just at this time met with
great acceptance in the cloisters of Palestine; and a party of enthusi-
astic Origenists had there risen up, who were violently opposed by the
zealots for the orthodoxy of the church. But this Origenistic party
had so managed as to acquire great influence at court through the
agency of two of their own abbots, Domitian and particularly ‘Theodore
Ascidas. These had taken up their residence at Constantinople: and,
by the zeal which they showed in defense of the Chalcedonian council,
1Jn the above-cited letter to the Mono- Hermione knew of this secret bargain of
physite bishops, he concludes with the ambition. De ipsius episcopi Romani chi-
words: Anathematizamus ergo Theodorum, rographis ambitionis impulsu, quum_ fieri
Theodoretum et omnes qui eorum statuta arderet episcopus, parti alteri factis. Ep
coluerunt vel colunt. Even Facundus of ad Mocian. Sirmond [1. 593, E
DOMITIAN. THEODORE ASCIDAS. 5387
won the special regard of the emperor Justinian, and hence possessed
great influence in the palace.’ He made Domitian bishop of Ancyra
in Galatia, Theodore Ascidas bishop of Czesarea in Cappadocia ; but,
notwithstanding these appointments, they resided at court still more
than with their communities, and used their whole influence to protect
and to advance the party of their fellow-believers in Palestine. The
patriarch Peter of Jerusalem, who was opposed to the Origenists,
could not sustain himself against the influence of the powerful court
party, and was obliged, in spite of himself, to make many concessions,
in order to preserve his patriarchal dignity against the court intrigues
which under the emperor Justinian carried all before them. But
could the eyes of the emperor be once opened to see what a heretic
Origen had been, and what heresies were to be found in his writings,
the Origenistic party was lost; and how easily might this be brought
about! It actually was brought about by a coincidence of events
coming from different quarters.
The patriarch Peter of Jerusalem, who longed to be delivered from
the yoke of the Origenistic court party, mstructed two abbots, who
sided with the opponents of Origenism, to bring before him a formal
complaint against the Origenists, setting forth the heresies of Origen
in detail. This document he sent to the emperor with a letter, deseri-
bing to him the commotions excited by the Origenistic party.2 Besides
this, Pelagius, the Apocrisiarius of the Roman bishop, had come to
Palestine on some particular ecclesiastical business with which he had
been entrusted by the emperor. He was then joined by four monks,
who accompanied him from Palestine to Constantinople, for the pur-
pose of laying before the emperor extracts from the writings of Origen,
in proof of his heresies, and of procuring their condemnation.? ‘To a
Roman ecclesiastic, the heresies of Origen would appear extremely
dangerous; and perhaps Pelagius was governed by motives of policy,
even more than by a solicitude for the purity of doctrines: for he had
long been jealous of the great power of Theodore Ascidas at the im-
perial court ;* and the condemnation of Origen’s doctrines, as heretical,
would furnish him an opportune means of procuring his downfall. The
patriarch Mennas of Constantinople also, who doubtless had often felt
annoyed by the dominion of Theodore, readily entered into this plan;
and both united their efforts in urging the emperor to condemn Origen’s
heresies. ‘To the latter a welcome opportunity was here presented for
establishing, by a religious edict, his authority as lawgiver also for
the church, which indeed was the grand object of his ambition.> In
the year 541, he issued a document drawn out in detail, and addressed
1 Πρώτης παῤῥησίας ἐν τῷ παλατίῳ pera-
σχοντες. Cyrilli Scythopolitani vita S. Sa-
be, ὁ 83. Coteler. monumenta ecclesiz
Greece, T. ΠῚ.
21,. ec. vita Saba, ο. 85.
3 As the letter which the patriarch Peter
of Jerusalem sent to Constantinople was
the same in substance with that which these
four monks presented to the emperor, it
might be that these monks, of whom Libera-
tus speaks, (c. 33,) and whose names are
given by Evagrius, (IV. 38,) were no other
than the delegates of the patriarch Peter.
4 Liberatus, 1. c. amulus existens The-
doro.
5 Liberatus. Annuit imperator facillime,
gaudens se de talibus causis judicium ferre.
598 ORIGENISTIC DOCTRINES CONDEMNED.
to the patriarch Mennas, which was perfectly in character with his
desputic temper, and in which he endeavored to show what a detest-
able heretic Origen was, by enumerating the titles of the several here-
sies with which he had been furnished in the manner above described.
He mvited the patriarch to assemble a ‘‘ home synod,” (σύνοδος ἐνδημοῦσα,.)
and cause Origen and his doctrines to be condemned. A copy of
these synodal proceedings should be sent to all bishops and abbots, to ἡ
receive their respective signatures ; and, for the future, no person should
be appointed a bishop or an abbot, without first condemning Origen
along with the other heretics.1_ Similar letters the emperor caused to
be despatched also to the other patriarchs. The execution of this
measure would occasion no general disturbance, as the judgment of
the church concerning Origen had long since been settled. Mennas
held the synod required by the emperor, which decided according to
the imperial command. .
But the object which it was hoped to accomplish by this condemna-
tion, namely, to effect the ruin of the Origenistic party, was neverthe-
less defeated; for Theodore and Domitian sacrificed the truth, in order
to save their own interests and that of their party; as, indeed, great
liberty of accommodating one’s self to circumstances was allowed by
the principles of this Origenistic party, that the end sanctifies the
means, and that the truth is not forallmen. Z'hey likewise subscribed
the decrees of the synod, and consequently nothing could be done to
them.2. They preserved their authority at court, and could still
secretly work none the less effectually for the interest of the Origen-
istic party, insomuch that Theodore Ascidas ventured to threaten the
patriarch Peter that he would cause him to be deposed, unless he
received the Origenistic monks, who had been expelled, back again to
their cloisters.$
Doubtless, however, notwithstanding their success for the present in
defeating the plots of their adversaries, they could feel no security for
the future amid circumstances so threatening; for, if their opponents
could contrive to expose their hypocritical acquiescence in the condem-
nation of the Origenistic heresies, and their secret machinations in
favor of a party condemned by an imperial command, a heavy disgrace
awaited them. They must, therefore, anticipate the blow which
might so easily crush them, and endeavor to turn it upon their adver-
saries. They must seek to draw off the attention of the emperor from
the heresies of Origen, by occupying it with something else: thus
they could unite with their other object the pleasure of taking revenge
on their adversaries, by attacking them on the side of their doctrinal
interests. All this was craftily combined in the plan of causing the
anathema which had been pronounced on Origen, to fall back on the
Syrian church-teachers Theodore, Ibas, and Theodoret. Such a meas-
1For according to the beautiful custom, ἐϑοῦς ἐν τοῖς γενόμενοις λιβέλλοις avad_eua-
introduced under the emperor Justinian, in τιζόμενοι.
order to obtain a spiritual office, it was 2 Vita Saha, c. 85, near the end.
necessary to subscribe such a condemnation 3 Vita Sabe, c. 86.
of the most famous heretics, αἱρέτικοι οἱ ἐξ
PLANS OF THEODORE ASCIDAS. 539
ure would not appear to have come directly from Monophysitism ; for
even by men who would never consent to be called Monophysites,
sentence of condemnation had, in fact, been pronounced, in the contro-
versy with Nestorianism, (see p. 496,) upon Theodore, as likewise
upon many of the controversial writings belonging to the first period
of the theological polemics of Theodoret. The man who was consid-
ered a pillar of orthodoxy, Cyrill himself, though to be sure a favorer
of Monophysitism, had in fact condemned those Syrian church-teachers
as heretics. But as those three church-teachers had ever been special
objects of hatred to the Monophysite party; as this party had long
been laboring to procure their condemnation ; as two of them had been
justified by the Chalcedonian council; such an attack would, of course,
seem very much like a plot of the Monophysite party. What was
known about the influence of the empress Theodora would serve to
confirm this suspicion. The Origenistic party secured, then, by this
undertaking, an opportunity of vexing their opponents, who, like Men-
nas, were zealous defenders of the authority of the Chalcedonian
council, and violently opposed to Monophysitism. They might expect,
that this proposal would create vastly greater commotions than the
Origenistic controversies, and thus sink the latter in oblivion. They
thus secured an opportunity also of forming an alliance with the court
party favored by the empress Theodora, which was still im existence,
and of gaining in them an important support. Whether they were
also actuated in this case by the particular interest of a theological.
party, in causing Theodore, an opponent of the Origenistic school, to
be condemned as a heretic, may remain doubtful; for this Origenistic
party were more particularly interested in the peculiar doctrinal
opinions of Origen, which, to be sure, were closely connected with his
allegorical method of interpreting the Scriptures; but Theodore of
Mopsuestia had, strictly speaking, attacked only the principles of that
method, while, in other respects, he decidedly agreed with Origen in
many of his peculiar views of doctrine ; as, for example, in the doctrine
of restoration, which under Origen’s name had been pronounced
heretical.
1 That Theodore Ascidas had it in view,
by these new commotions which he was the
means of exciting, to bring the cause of
Origen into oblivion, is not only asserted by
Evagrius, (LV. 38,) ἑτέρωϑι τούτους ἐφέλκειν
ἔϑελων, but declared also by one of the
heads of this party, Domitian himself, in a
letter to the -Roman bishop Vigilius: Hi
vero qui proposuerunt hujusmodi (Origenis)
dogma defendere, id implere nullo modo
voluerunt; sed talem relinquentes conflic-
tum, conversi sunt adversus Theodorum, et
moliri coeperunt, quatenus anathematizare-
tur et ille, ad abolitionem, ut putabant,
eorum, que contra Origenem mota consti-
terant. Facund. Hermian.]. 1V.¢.4. The
same Facundus hints at the connection
here with the schemes of the Monophy-
sites: Horum (of the Origenists) satellitio
functa gens Eutychianorum perfida, ea que
per se contra Chalcedonense concilium szepe
tentaverat, per ipsos latentes aggressa est,
qui nobis non videbantur hac parte suspecti,
1.1. ec. 2. Liberatus assigns, as the chief
motive, the disparaging of the authority of
the Chalcedonian council, and, as a subor-
dinate one, the hostility to Theodore, because
he had written against Origen, ec. 24: Eo
quod Theodorus multa opuscula edidisset
contra Origenem, et maxime quod synodus
Chalcedonensis laudem ejus susceperit. The
former is confirmed also by Facundus of
Hermiane, when he says that Theodore, by
his work written against Origen, de allego-
ria et historia, had drawn upon himself the
hatred of the Origenists, l. 111. ¢. 6, unde
odium Origenianorum incurrit. Still, how-
ever, it may have been nothing more than
540 EDICT AGAINST THU “‘ THREE CHAPTERS.”
It would be no difficult matter to point out to the emperor Justinian
many passages in the writings of Theodore, which could not fail to
appear to him extremely offensive; and, besides this, it was possible
here to take advantage not only of his ruling passion generally, which
was to set himself up as a lawgiver of the church, but also of another
favorite plan, which at that very juncture he was agitating. He was
using his efforts to bring back the Monophysites to reunite with the
commana church. For this reason, he was about to bring out under
his own name a work in defence of the Chalcedonian council against
the objections of the Monophysites. But now Theodore Ascidas and
Domitian represented to him, that he would be able to effect his object
in a much shorter and more certain way. The Monophysites, said
they, particularly object to the council of Chalcedon and its adherents,
that they have approved of Theodore, and of many writings of Theo-
doret and of Ibas of Edessa, which apparently favor Nestorianism.
Now, if Theodore and those particular writings were condemned, this
charge would be at once refuted. An important obstacle which had
hitherto stood in the way of the recognition of the council of Chalce-
don among the Monophysites, would thereby be removed at a single
stroke; and if the emperor, by bringing about this condemnation,
succeeded in restoring peace to the church, he would thereby confer
on the church an immense obligation, and secure for himself an endu-
ring renown.! Such a plan, so craftily presented, could not be other-
wise than agreeable to Justinian; and the more so, as the influential
Theodora, who understood the whole affair, gave it her firm support.?
The emperor was now urged to issue an edict as soon as possible on
this subject; for the party was well aware, that, when he had once
done this, he would consider it as a matter involving his own imperial
authority and honor, and would never be turned from it. In the year
544, Justinian published the edict, which, from the three repeatedly
mentioned points of which it treats, afterwards obtamed the name of
the edict de tribus capitulis, (περί τριῶν κεφαλαίων.) By this edict, which
is known to us only from fragments, the anathema was pronounced on
the person of Theodore and on his writings, on Theodoret’s writings
against Cyrill, and on the letter of Ibas,? as well as on all the defenders
of the three chapters. The emperor was desirous, at the same time,
of carefully guarding against everything which might seem like a dis-
paragement of the authority of the Chalcedonian council, extending
the anathema to those also who should draw any inference from this
.document to the prejudice of the council of Chalcedon.
This edict was now, in the first place, sent through the whole empire
and laid before the bishops, for the purpose of obtaining their written
a wrong conclusion which led to this con- 1 Liberat. c. 24. Scribendi laborem eum
jecture; for it is evident, for the reasons
above cited, that this design was not con-
nected, so very closely at least, with the
interests of the Origenists; but at the same
time it might have been a subordinate mo-
tive in the minds of enthusiastic followers
of Origen.
non debere pati, quando compendio posset
acephalos omnes ad suam communionem
adducere.
2 As Liberatus expressly intimates, I. c.
8 Designedly expressed as follows: Que
dicitur ab Iba esse facta.
OPPOSITION TO IT IN NORTH AFRICA. 541
assent to it. Had it been possible in this way to secure the individual
votes of all or of a majority of the bishops, the matter could be so
represented, as if the edict had been received by the whole church.
But, in the case of an edict of this sort, the thing was not so easy to
be effected as in the case of the edict against Origen; for the new
edict appeared at once to be an attack on the authority of the council
of Chalcedon, and a favoring of the Monophysites. Very much de-
pended on the votes of the four patriarchs of the East, as these had
the greatest weight with the other bishops. The patriarch Mennas of
Constantinople expressed himself at first utterly opposed to the sub-
stance of the edict, because he saw in it a disparagement of the author-
ity of the council of Chalcedon. He declared next, that he would
wait till he could learn what was the decision of the Roman bishop.
At length, however, he yielded to the authority of the emperor, and
gave in his written acquiescence, but with the proviso that, in case the
Roman bishop declared against the condemnation of the three chapters,
his own declaration should be withdrawn.! So it tuwmed also with the
other three patriarchs of the East, who in the first place declared
against it, but were induced, on being threatened that they should be
deposed, to subscribe their assent.2 The example thus set was now
followed by the other bishops.? Those who subscribed, received splen-
did gifts; the few who declined, were deposed and banished.‘
But, if the emperor found it easy to carry through his design in the
East, which was so accustomed to slavish obedience, he met witha
more determined resistance, from the first, among the bishops and clergy -
in North Africa, which country, just liberated from the despotism of the
Vandals, was about to be exposed to that of the Byzantines. Here a
more independent and free spirit in church life had been transmitted
from the school of the great Augustin. Here, men had learned how
to contend for the faith under the persecution of the Vandal kings.
Those only who had already become accustomed to change their opin- .
ions like a coat, to please the party in power,— who under the Vandals
had been Arians, and under Justinian had again exchanged Arianism
for a zealous adoption of the Nicene doctrine,— entered now also warmly
into the condemnation of the three articles.2 When the imperial edict
with the demand for signatures first arrived in North Africa, the bishop
Pontianus replied to the emperor, that those writings to which the edict
referred were as yet unknown in those parts. But, even if they were
1 Facundus Hermianens. 1. ΤΥ. ο.4. Fa-
tempus οὖ secundum voluntatem principum
ecundus here yery justly reproaches him
quicquid ab eis quesitum fuerit, sine altera-
From the letter of the
with being more concerned about the judg-
ment of a man than the judgment of God.
In quo satis ostendit, de judicio se potius
humano, quam divino esse solicitum.
2 Facundus, |. ¢
8 A characteristic description of the Greek
bishops is to be found in a document of this
period: Sunt Greeci episcopi habentes divi-
tes et opulentas ecclesias, et non patiuntur
duos menses a rerum ecclesiasticorum dom-
inatione suspendi: pro qua re secundum
VOL. I.
tione consentiunt.
Roman clergy to the Frankish envoys at
Constantinople. Mansi Concil. T. LX. f. 153.
4 Liberatus, towards the end. ᾿
5 As Facundus (lib. contra Mocianum)
says of a certain one: Qui Wandalis reg-
nantibus Arianus fuit, deinde imperio suc-
cedente Romano cum tempore versus est,
ut catholicus videretur, nunc etiam de pala-
tio prejudiciis religionis catholic exortis,
eadem sequitur.
542 FULGENTIUS FERRANDUS.
acquainted with those works, and if they found in them much that was
at variance with the doctrines of the faith, they might be on their guard
against such passages, but would not hastily condemn their authors, who
were already dead. If such writers were still living, and would not
themselves condemn the errors objected to them, then with all propriety
they might be condemned. But now, they stood before the infallible
judge, from whom there was no appeal. He concluded with saying,
that the emperor would do well to take heed, lest, in seeking to con-
demn persons who were already dead, he might fall into-the great
mistake of condemning many now living to death for their disobedience,
and lest he should at last be called to account for this by Him who
would come to judge the quick and the dead. As among the Africans,
so also among the bishops of Illyria and of Dalmatia, the edict met
with determined resistance.
So many tokens of an unfavorable disposition towards the imperial
edict having manifested themselves in the Western church, where the
arm of Byzantine despotism was not so strong, it seemed the more
important to the emperor that the people of the West should be wrought
upon through some weighty authority in the church. Hence, above all,
he must seek to gain over the voice of the Roman bishop Vivilius, from
whom, owing to the fickleness of his character, no very decided resist-
ance was to be apprehended; and who had in truth already pledged
himself in favor of the Monophysite party ; — ἃ fact of which the empe-
ror, indeed, was not aware, but which was doubtless well remembered
by the party which had a hand in all these intrigues. Vigilius, who
possessed neither the learning, nor the independent judgment in
theology, which qualified him to decide with safety on these disputed
matters, was, In all probability, the person who, at the very outset,
instructed his two deacons, Anatolius and Pelagius, to get a learned
ecclesiastic of Carthage, the deacon Fulgentius Ferrandus,! to draw up
an opinion on this subject. They directed him to consult with the
bishop of Carthage, or with other wise and judicious men; and they
themselves expressed a suspicion, from which doubtless we may infer
what was the then disposition of Vigilius himself, that this whole
ages might have originated in a secret plot of the Monophysite
party.
Thereupon, Fulgentius Ferrandus, in a free spirited reply, declared
decidedly against the reception of the imperial edict, for three several
1 This Ferrandus is also known to τι8 lamentable condition of the provinces, and
through his work entitled Christian Rules
- of Life, (qualis esse debeat dux religiosus
in actibus militaribus,) written for the Comes
Reginus, who probably filled the post of
governor of North Africa. In this produc-
tion he shows himself to be a man quite
zealous and alive for practical Christianity,
actuated by a warm philanthropy, and as
fearlessly independent as he was prudent
and sensible. He warned the count against
the tricks whereby the governors of this
period contrived to gain the emperor’s fa-
vor, deceiving him with regard to the
finally bringing the latter to the very verge
of ruin. He gives the count the foilowing
seven rules, which he goes on to unfold and
explain: 1, Gratiz Dei adjutorium tibi
necessarium per singulos actus crede. II.
Vita tua speculum sit, ubi milites tui vide-
ant, quid agere debent. III. Non praesse
appetas; sed prodesse. IV. Dilige rem-
publicam sicut te ipsum. V. Humuanis di-
vina preepone. WI. Noliesse multum jus-
tus. Vil. Memento te esse Christianum,
2 Facund. Hermian. 1. IV. c. 3.
VIGILIUS IN CONSTANTINOPLE. 543
reasons: I. The supreme authority of general councils, particularly of
those held with the consent of the Roman church, which, according to
the sacred scriptures, held the first rank. Hence what had once been
decided by the council of Chalcedon, ought not to be subjected to any
new investigation. Let the decisions of the council be attacked, even
but in a single article, and its entire authority was immediately unset-
tled. A distinction between determinations of fact and determinations
of doctrine he would not admit to have any force. II. That persons
deceased were removed from the jurisdiction of a human tribunal ; and,
for the sake of the dead, an occasion of offence ought not to be placed
in the way of the living. III. No individual man should attempt to
procure for his writings, by the subscriptions of many, that authority
which the catholic church conceded only to the holy scriptures. No such
fetters ought to be imposed on the judgment of church-teachers : it
should be left free for each to determine, with regard to the dictum of
an individual, what he felt obliged to approve, and what to condemn.
Men should not bind themselves by such subscriptions, if they would
leave themselves any opportunity of correcting their judgment after-
wards on a clearer manifestation of the truth.1 Vigilius appeared
resolved at first to follow the principles here expressed: but the
emperor hoped still to overcome his scruples, by means which his abso-
lute sovereignty put within his power ; and, as it was so very important
to make sure of the voice of the Roman bishop, he sent for him to come
to Constantinople. He admonished him, with the patriarchs and other
bishops, to study for that peace which Christ loved more than all sacri- -
fices. But Vigilius did not seem inclined to follow this admonition,
in the sense in which the emperor intended it ; for, while on his journey,
he wrote te the patriarch Mennas, that the peace of Christ was a differ-
ent thing from the peace of the world. After his arrival at Constan-
tinople, A.D. 547, he bore himself at first according to the same spirit.
He gave notice to the patriarch Mennas, and all the bishops who had .
concurred in the condemnation of the three articles, of his intention to
withdraw from the fellowship of the church.? But his firmness did not
last long. He suffered himself to be drawn, in the first place, into a
secret written declaration, condemning the three articles. Through
Vigilius, the emperor now sought to work upon a synod assembled at
Constantinople ; and the Roman bishop himself was anxious to give
his first public declarations, in this way, a more advantageous appear-
ance, and, by issuing them in fellowship with the large body of bishops,
to secure himself from the reproaches which he had reason to appre-
hend. But owing to the energetic resistance of the North-African
bishops, especially of Facundus of Hermiane, this hope was defeated.
1 A noble protest in favor of freedom of
theological inquiry against an effort of this
sort to fetter the universal judgment: Pati-
enter ferat pius scriptor sollicitudinem piam
requirentium veritatem, nec festinet audito-
rum tenere manum; sed per suavem sen-
sum paratus meliora sentientibus consen-
. tire 1. 6. 6. 8.
2 Lib. contra Mocianum, 594, A.
8 Contra Mocian. 594, D. Theophanes,
in the twentieth year of Justinian’s reign, but
where things which happened at different
times are confounded.
4 Occulta ejus ante judicium pollicitatio
tenebatur, in qua se spopondit eadem capi-
tula damnaturum, c. Mocian. 592, D
544 FACUNDUS OF HERMIANE.
Vigilius having failed of his purpose in the assembly of bishops, he made
the experiment of negotiating with them individually ; and in this way
he was more successful. He contrived to bring it about, that his first
public declaration, his so-called yudicatum, appeared with the signature
of seventy bishops.! But this step provoked against himself a serious
opposition. Even the two deacons who accompanied him, Rusticus”
and Sebastian, ventured to stand against him ; and they took care that
the judicatum of Vigilius should speedily be spread far and wide.
They accused him of having detracted from the authority of the Chal-
cedonian council ; they were not afraid even to renounce church-fellow-
ship with him, and a party of the clergy took sides with them. Vigilius,
it is true, in a letter describing their conduct, and full of invectives,
pronounced on them sentence of deposition ;? but he had against him’
the public opinion of the Western church. The free-minded voices of
the North-African bishops would here have great influence.
Among these is to be named especially the bishop Facundus of
Hermiane. Having first entered into a thorough investigation of the
questions in dispute, he came to a decision, and ever afterwards abode
with unshaken constancy by the result at which he had arrived with
clear conviction. In defence of it, he wrote a treatise eminently char-
acterized by qualities seldom to be met with in this age, —a freedom -
of spirit unshackled by human fear, and a candid, thorough criticism,
superior in many respects to the prejudices of the times. Nobly did
he protest against the uncalled-for dogmatism which had ever been the
source of so much mischief to the Greek church ; these useless disputes
having in fact proceeded from no other cause. ‘* While,” he said, “in
all other arts and occupations, no one presumed to pass judgment on
what he had never learned ; in matters of theology, on the contrary,
they who learned the least were the most arrogant and peremptory in
their judgments. When the civil power overstepped: its province, it
might indeed plunge numbers in ruin, by misleading them to deny the
truth with their lips; but still it could never effect its object, for it’
could not instil into the minds of men other convictions than they had :
its power reached only to what: was outward, not to the soul.””® He
spoke with scorn of those bishops who accused themselves in pleading,
in excuse of their behavior, the constraint under which they were
placed ; for it was not even the force of torture, but only the fear of
the emperor’s displeasure, which had brought them to yield.® “ As if,”
1 Contra Mocian. 593, 6. and the preface
to the work of Facundus pro defens. trium
caption,
See epistola ad Rusticum et Sebastia-
num. Harduin. Concil. T. III. f. 176.
3 Pro defensione trium capitulorum libri
Il. :
41, XII. c.4. Nam et suas habent offi-
cinas vel artifices omnia qu ex. proposito.
doceri videmus. Nunquam enim de textri-
no personare incudes audivimus et ignem
illic in fornacibus anhelare. Nunquam com-
perimus a sutore quesitum que cujusque
fabric longitudini proportio atitudinis
conveniret et quanta utriusyue congrueret
altitudo, quoniam illi integre scire possunt,
qui ab ipsius artis sunt preeceptoribus insti-
tuti. Sols in contemptu ‘sunt divine lite-
re, que nec suam scholam nec. magistros
habent, οὐ de quibus peritissime disputare:
se credat qui nunquam didicit.
5 Etsi vocem contradictionis. abstulerit,.
animum certe mutare non potuit.. Aliquos
jus mundane potestatis ecclesiz valet au-
ferre, nullum tamen sibi scquirere.
ὁ Against the excuse 2f Vigilius: Nos
VIGILIUS ALARMED.
HIS OATH OF SUBJUGATION. 545
said he, “we had been ordained bishops for no other purpose than to
be enriched by the presents of princes, and to sit with them among the
high authorities of the state. But if, amidst the many cares of the
state, through the deceitful arts of the wicked, of which there is
never any lack, any thing has been admitted by them which tended
to injure the church or to disturb its peace, as if it were not our duty
to set before them the truth for their own benefit, and, if it be necessary,
to resist them with the authority of religion, and patiently endure
their displeasure if we must incur 10.1 If God should now raise up an
Ambrose,” said he, “" there would not fail to be a Theodosius.” 2
Although Vigilius reprimanded his antagonists with a tone of
authority, yet he was not so firm as he wished to appear. The exam-
ples of the North-African and Illyrian bishops must have given him
some sensations of shame. The North Africans had formally excom-
municated him by a synodal decree, reserving to him nothing but the
penance of the church.? The general voice of the Western church,
which accused him of betraying the church out of regard for men, was
by no means a matter of indifference to him. He wished to take back
with a good grace what he had declared and sworn in so many differ-
ent ways. ΤῸ open the way for this, he importuned the emperor that
he would cause the decision of the matter to be deferred to a general
council, which the Western bishops also should attend. In the midst
of a large multitude, the individual, forsooth, would have less to fear.
Nor was the emperor by any means disinclined to this measure ; for he
could not but welcome the opportunity which such an assembly would
afford him of putting down, by an overwhelming church authority, the ἡ
opposition to the condemnation of the three articles ; and the more, as
religious agitations might bring on a political ferment dangerous to the
unsettled state of his newly founded Western empire. Now, as a gene-
ral council would pass a decision of so much greater weight, Vigilius
prevailed on the emperor to give up to him for the present his own
jedicatum. Justinian was resolved, however, that his edict against the
three articles should not fail, and that he would use the council only
as an instrument for its confirmation and execution. But, as he had
no great confidence perhaps in the fickle-minded Vigilius, he deter-
mined to make sure of him by putting him under an oath. And Vigilius
was pusillanimous enough to take such an oath as the emperor was
pleased to dictate, — an oath by which he bound himself to the degra-
dation of acting as the emperor’s blind instrument and secret spy. He
contra respondemus, quod ultro per am-
bitionem pollicitatione facta peccaverit, nec
ulla sustinuerit tormenta, quibus cessisse
eredatur. Contra Mocian. f. 595.
1 Quasi vero propter hoc tantum ordinati
sumus episcopi, ut ditemur principum donis,
et cum eis inter maximas potestates conse-
deamus, tanquam divini sacerdotii privile-
giis fulti: sicubi autem fallaciis malignorum,
quz nullis temporibus defuerunt, aliquid
eis inter tantas reipublice suze curas sub-
reptum fuerit, quod ecclesize Dei praejudicet
VOL. II. 40"
vel ecclesie pacem turbet, non eis debea-
mus pro ipsorum salute que sunt vera sug-
gerere, et si necesse fuerit, religionis aucto-
ritate resistere, ac patientes offensionem
quoque illorum, si acciderit, sustinere. L.
LV pies:
2 Si nune Dens aliquem Ambrosium sus-
citaret, etiam Theodosius non deesset. L.
XII. f. 584, D.
3 Sce the chronicle of the African bishop
Victor of Tununum. Canisii lectiones an-
tique ed. Basnage, T. 1, ἢ, 332.
840 COUNCIL AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
promised in it, that, heart and hand with the emperor, he would do all
in his power to carry through the condemnation of the three articles.
In defence of them he would neither directly nor indirectly do or say
anything, nor enter into any secret councils. And should any indi-
vidual propose to him anything that conflicted with these decisions,
anything that concerned the three articles or the faith, or that was
contrary to the interests of the state, he would make the individual
known to the emperor, as well as all that he said, on condition, how-
ever, that the emperor should not attempt the life of any such person,
and, out of regard for the honor of his sacred office, that he should not
betray the informer. He was quite sensible, then, in what sort of
light he must appear, as a Roman bishop, playing such a part.! The
emperor, having, as he supposed, made sure of Vigilius, summoned, in
551, the bishops from Illyria and from North Africa, to a council to be
held at Constantinople. The former did not attend, as they perfectly
understood the object in view, and were resolved to have nothing to do
with it. A part of the African bishops complied with the summons.
The emperor endeavored to move them by bribes, by friendly words, and
by threats. Several stood out firmly against his arbitrary will; and
these suffered violent persecutions, partly under the false charge of
political offences. Among these latter was the bishop Reparatus, of
Carthage, who was deposed from his office and condemned to exile ;
and his chief agent, (Apocrisiarius,) the deacon Primasius, obtained,
as his reward for condemning the three articles, the privilege of being
thrust as their bishop on the unwilling church of Carthage.2 Not
without tumults and bloodshed,® the churches in North Africa were
deprived of their beloved bishops ; while others were substituted in their
place, who consented to serve as the slaves of the court. The gover-
nor of this province made search for all those bishops, of whom it might
be expected that, owing to their character, or to their want of an inde-
pendent theological judgment of their own, they might be easily led,
and sent them to Constantinople to add, by their presence, to the num-
ber of those who condemned the three articles.*
When Justinian found it impossible to do as he wished with the
bishops of Illyria, Dalmatia, and North Africa, he. next proceeded to
1 The words of Vigilius, taken from: the
form of the oath, published first by Baluz,
are: Et si quis mihi aliquid contrariam dix-
erit aut de istis capitulis, aut de fide aut
contra rempublicam, istum sine mortis peri-
‘eulo pictati vestree: manifestabo et que mihi
locutus est, ita ut ‘propter locum .meum
personam meam non prodas. | Mansi Con-
cil. T, LX. f..364.
2 This Primasius should not be confound-
ed with another Primasius, bishop of the
city of Adrumetum in Buzazene, who was
at first steadfast, but afterwards consented
to take a bribe. Perhaps this latter is the
same: person who is the author of the com-
mentary on the epistles of Paul, and on the
Revelation.
8 Procopius says of the emperor Justini-
‘an, of whom, in general, he judges more
correctly than the Greek historians of this
time: Εἰς μίαν ἄμφι τῷ Χριστῷ δόξαν ἁπών-
τας ἐν σπουδῇ ἐχων, λόγῳ οὐδένι τοὺς ἄλλους
ἄνϑρώπους διεφϑείρε, οὐ γὰρ οἱ ἐδόκει φόνος᾽
ἀνϑρώπων εἶναι, nv γὲ μὴ τῆς αὐτοῦ δόξης οἱ
τελευτῶντες τυχοίεν ὄντες. Hist. arcan.
ο. 18. :
4 See the narratives of the bishop Victor
of Tununum, who was himself obliged to
‘sutfer exile, imprisonment, and bodily ill-
treatment, as a defender of the three arti-
cles; and the report of the Roman clergy
to the Frankish envoys.
VIGILIUS ABSCONDS. 547
_ urge the bishop Vigilius to unite with the obedient Greeks in condemn-
ing the three articles. Disregarding his remonstrances, he issued a new
edict still more full in its details, which wore the appearance rather of
a doctrinal treatise, than of an imperial decree. ‘This, as it would
appear, contained a justification of the sentence against Theodore ; and
hence a number of pretended blasphemous expressions were cited from
his works, and many of the passages chosen for this purpose only be-
trayed the exceedingly narrow mind of the inquisitorial judge. At the
same time, he defended himself against the reproach, that such a sen-
tence tended to impair the authority of the council of Chalcedon ; and
he now supposed that he had deprived the Monophysites of all reason-
able excuse for remaining separated from the dominant church. This
edict Vigilius was required to subscribe ; but the example of the North-
African and Illyrian bishops had given him courage. He sent to de-
mand of the emperor, that he should revoke his edict; he ought to wait
for the common decision of the bishops, and either cause the Western
bishops who had taken offence at what had hitherto been done, to
attend the assembly in person, or else permit them freely to give in
their written opinions. He threatened all who should receive the im-
perial edict, with excommunication. Such downright contradiction was
more than the despotic Justinian could bear. Vigilius was obliged, in
August, 551, to take refuge from the wrath of the emperor in a church.
An imperial officer with an armed force attempting to remove him from
that place, he fled to the altar, to which he clung so firmly, that it came
near being overturned with himself to the ground.”
The emperor having at length promised him safety upon his
word and oath, he returned to his usual residence, where, how-
ever, he was treated like a prisoner. Disgusted’at this confinement,
he escaped during the night, two days before the Christmas festival,
not without considerable danger, and took refuge in the church of St.
Euphema, at Chalcedon. When the emperor invited him once more,
by an honorable embassy, to leave this asylum, and promised to give
him the most sacred pledges of personal security, Vigilius sent back the
reply, that no further sacred pledges were needed, if he would but re-
store back to the church the peace it enjoyed under his uncle Justinus.
But the emperor, who wished and hoped for the codperation of Vigilius
in carrying out his designs on the council, entered into a new train of
negotiations with him, and at length succeeded in persuading him to
leave the church.
From seven to eight years having now passed amidst these unfruit-
ful controversies, which, destitute of all doctrinal interest, proceeded
solely from the intrigues of court-parties and from the arbitrary will of
an individual ; the Roman bishop having been now detained six years
to no purpose at Constantinople ; it was finally determined, that a gene-
ral council for the determination of this dispute should be assembled
1 Beati Petri basilica in Ormisda. trorum fuisset manibus sustentata. Theo-
2 In his letter of complaint ad universum — phanes ‘chronograph. ’Exetdev ἑλκόμενος
populum Dei: Et super nos etiam ipsa al- κατέσχε τοὺς βασταζόντας τὸ ϑυσιαστήριον
taris mensa ceciderat, nisi clericorum ποβ- ᾿ κίονας, καὶ τούτους κατέστρεψε βαρύς ὧν
548 COUNCIL AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
at Constantinople, in the year 553, under the patriarch Eutychius !—
a great undertaking for an object which, measured by its intrinsic im-
portance, was so comparatively insignificant. When Vigilius was
invited to take part in this council, he declined ; but declared himself
ready, within the space of twenty days, to hand in his written judg-
ment on the whole matter; and, in case he did not fulfil his engage-
ment within that term, to accede to all the decrees of the council. The
latter accordingly proceeded to their business, independently, and with-
out waiting for the decision of the Roman bishop. Vigilius fulfilled his
promise, and published his decision in his constitutum ad imperatorem.
In this he declared, indeed, that the propositions which had been taken
from the writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia were heretical ; but im-
mediately subjoined, that it was never allowable to condemn, after his
death, a teacher who had died in the communion of the church. The
writings, however, of Theodoret and of Ibas, having been approved by
the council of Chalcedon, could not be rejected without impairing the
authority of that council. Everything which might be done or written
against this decision, from whomsoever it might come, he declared to be
null and void. The emperor, who regarded himself to be the supreme
lawgiver of the church, thereupon sent a letter to the assembled coun-
cil, in which he declared, that Vigilius had, by his defence of the
erroneous doctrines of Nestorius, and Theodore, and their companions,
cut himself off from the fellowship of the church ; and his name should
therefore be expunged from the church records. He made a distine-
tion, however, between the person of the individual Roman bishop,
and the apostolic see or the Roman church ; the fellowship of the latter
should thereby be in nowise affected. The council followed the empe-
ror’s orders, and decided according to the imperial edict. The anathema
was pronounced on the person and the doctrines of Theodore, as well
as on the defenders of them; but with regard to Theodoret and Ibas,
only on those particular writings, because both had afterwards recalled
their erroneous doctrines, and accordingly had been acknowledged as
orthodox by the Chalcedonian council. All who refused to submit to
this judgment should, if they were ecclesiastics, be deposed from their
places, and, if laymen, be excommunicated. Accordingly, several
worthy bishops of Illyria and of North Africa, who did not yield to the
ruling power, were deposed from their places and banished.
The strong desire to be released, and permitted to return home to
1 This Eutychius, general superintendent
(Καϑολικός) of all the monks in the metro-
politan church of Amasea in Pontus, had
just at that time been sent to Constantino-
ple by his bishop, as his representative at
the council, when the old patriarch Mennas
died there. By his zeal (perhaps on his
part, with his narrow views, honestly meant)
against the heresies of Theodore of Mopsu-
estia, and for the condemnation of the three
articles, he gained the particular favor of
the emperor. Among other things, it is
said that Justinian— which accords well
with his taste — was highly gratified, when
Eutychius, in answer to those who would
not allow that it was permitted to anathe-
matize the dead, affirmed it as a certain
truth, that men were both warranted and in
duty bound to pronounce the anathema on
heretics even after their death; for king
Josiah had caused the very bones of the
priests of Baal to be burned after their
death. 2 Chron. 34. Justinian rewarded
his zeal by bestowing on him the pa‘riarch-
ate. See the account of the life of Euty-
chius, by the presbyter Eustratius, in the
Greek, in actis sanctorum. Appendix to
the VI. April, § 22.
APHTHARTODOCETISM. 549
his bishopric, caused Vigilius again, and for the last time, to waver. He
agreed finally to a new declaration, in which he retracted all he had
written in defence of the three articles, and confirmed the decrees of
the council of Constantinople. Upon this he obtained permission to
return to Rome, but died on the journey, A.D. 555.
Thus, then, the arbitrary will of an emperor, governed by court in-
trigues, brought it about, that a great church-teacher, whose influence
had been of no small weight on the development of theological doc-
trines, should be denounced as a heretic; while the fickle mind of
a Roman bishop, whose instability of character made him the sport
of circumstances, must triumph over the better spirit of the Western
church.
But what was the result of these disputes? The project that
hovered before the imagination of the emperor, of uniting the Mono-
physites with the dominant church, was not attained ; for the authority
of the council of Chalcedon, which was held fast by the majority, re-
mained an abiding wall of separation between the two parties. And
in the Western church, arose a new schism, which continued to exist in
the following times, as the effect of the condemnation , pronounced by
the council of Constantinople, and adopted by the Roman church. The
churches of Istria, and all those which stood under the metropolitan
of Aquileja, renounced, on this account, the fellowship of the Roman
church.
As the emperor Justinian, in the matters of which we have thus far
spoken, was made use of sometimes by this and sometimes by the’
other court-party, as an instrument of their intrigues, while he supposed
himself tobe zealously contending for the purity of doctrines ; so
towards the end of his reign, subservient to the same. party passions,
and legislating on matters which he did not understand,' he was upon
the eve of calling forth new. disastrous controversies in the Oriental
church. A party among the Monophosites, who followed the doctrines -
of Xenayas and of the bishop Julian of Halicarnassus, derived, as a
necessary consequence from the union of the deity and humanity in one
nature in Christ, the proposition, similar to one which had already been
maintained by Clement of Alexandria and Hilary of Poictiers, that
the body of Christ, even during his earthly life, was not subjected, by
any necessity of nature,? to sensuous affections and wants, such as
hunger, thirst, and pain; but that, by a free determination of his own
will, (κατ᾽ οἰκονομίαν.) he subjected himself to all these things, for the sal-
vation of man :—which view went under the name of Aphthartodocetism.
It is easy to see, that this theory, seriously as the purely human ele-
ment in Christ was thereby affected, would be agreeable to many, who
were actuated by a misconceived desire of honoring Christ, by depriv-
ing him of all human affections. And moreover, the adherents of the
doctrine of the two natures might suppose, they could consider this as
ἃ consequence flowing from the union of the two natures in one person ;—
1 Tepioxéruv μὲν τὰ μετεώρα, περιέργος δὲ 2 All that was included in the conception
ἄμφι τῇ τοῦ ϑεοῦ φύσει. So Procopius de- of φϑόρα, of the παϑῆτον εἶναι, as a conse-
scribes him, hist. urcana, c. 18. quence of sin.
550 APHTHARTODOCETISM.
just as, on several other points, they agreed with the Monophysites, —
namely, in approving the expressions, ‘‘ God was born,” ‘* God suffered,”
and in denying all want of knowledge on the side of Christ’s human
nature, (or Agnoétism, as it was called.) Perhaps, at the same time, a
secre’ court-party favoring the Monophysites, although their head, the
empress Theodora, had long since died, had a hand in this matter. And
certainly the enemies of the patriarch Eutychius of Constantinople
could not have devised a better means to involve him in controversy,
and perhaps indeed to bring upon him the whole displeasure of the
emperor.! As the emperor Justinian was strongly inclined to favor the
most extravagant expressions which caused thé human attributes of
Christ to be entirely forgotten in the divine ; as he had already, while
a minister of state under the preceding reign, and afterwards at the
beginning of his own reign, zealously defended the formula, which also
was first brought into use by Monophysites,? “* One of the Trinity suf-
fered,” when it was introduced into the church by certain Scythian
and Constantinopolitan monks, (the so-called Theopaschites ;) as he had,
in 533, confirmed this formula by an edict, and given himself no rest
till it was adopted also in the Roman church ; so now, in his advanced
age, he thought he could do no greater work for the honor of Christ
and the expurgation of his own sms, than, by a new edict, to make
Aphthartodocetism a law. Already was it determined to force obedi-
ence to this edict after the usual manner ; already had the patriarch
Kutychius of Constantinople® been deposed and banished for contra-
dicting it; already a similar fate was threatening Anastatius, the patri-
arch of Antioch ; and partly a new disgraceful bondage, partly new
inward distractions, were impending over the whole Oriental church,
when, by the death of this emperor, which followed soon after, — an
emperor whose long reign had been the occasion of the greatest mis-
chiefs in the Greek church, — it was delivered, A.D. 565, from these
new evils.
APPENDIX.
The Formation of Separate Church Parties, in consequence of these
Disputes, beyond the Limits of the oman Empire.
While the several church parties which grew up out of these con-
troversies within the Roman empire had to yield to the sovereign
power ; in other lands, where a different religion from Christianity was
the religion of the state, they were at full liberty to express and to
propagate themselves ; and the hostile relation in which they stood to
the ruling church doctrine in the Roman empire contributed, in those
countries, to render the government favorably disposed to them.
1The biographer of Eutychius accuses 2 As an addition to the Trisagion.
the Origenists especially of participating in 8 Eutychius conducted with firmness and
these plots. This charge may indeed have dignity: he persisted, even after a thrice-
arisen from the hatred of a heretical party: repeated summons, in protesting against
at the same time, however, Aphthartodoce- the judgment of an illegal synod
tism might easily be held in connection
with the peculiar views of this party. \
NESTORIANISM IN PERSIA. 551
This was true especially of the Nestorians. The most eminent seat,
from which this sect extended itself in Persia, was a flourishing school
for the education of Persian divines in the city of Edessa, in Mesopo-
tamia. (See vol. II., p. 819.) This city now became, immediately
after the conclusion of the first Ephesian council, the theatre of the
most violent disputes which grew out of the opposite views of doctrine
which then agitated the church. The bishop of this city, whose name
was Rabulas, (see above,) and who, before this, was on friendly terms
with the other Syrian church-teachers, had, at a later period, attached
himself wholly to the side of the patriarch Cyrill; and he associated
himself with the most violent zealots against that which went under the
name of Nestorianism, insomuch that he even ventured publicly to
pronounce the anathema on those venerated teachers of the Syrian
church, Diodorus and Theodore. He met with a determined resistance,
however, from many of the clergy, and especially from the presbyter
Ibas, a person who stood in high estimation, and to whom the teachers
of the above-mentioned Persian school attached themselves. The latter
were banished by the tyrannical Rabulas; and, by their means, first a
tendency favorable to Nestorianism was introduced into Persia. Still
more, however, did the presbyter Ibas himself, by his famous letter to
the bishop Mares or Maris, of Hardaschir, in Persia, and by translat-
ing the works of Theodore and Diodorus into the Persian church lan-
guage, which was the Syriac, contribute to diffuse, if not a predilection
for Nestorius, yet an aversion to Cyrill, and a tendency of doctrine,
with which zeal for the tenets of Nestorius might easily be associated.
In this letter to the bishop Maris, he appears by no means as a friend
of Nestorius. He says that this latter, as well-as Cyrill, had given
offence by his controversial writings. He blames him for having drawn
down accusations on himself by his attack on the name ϑεότοκος, applied
to Mary; as in truth all the moderate Orientals were agreed on this
point with Ibas. But yet he spoke with more rancour against Cyrill,.
whom he accused of teaching the oneness of nature of the deity and
humanity, and of falling into Apollinarianism.
When Ibas wrote this letter, the above-mentioned treaty of coalition
had been concluded betwixt Cyrill and the Orientals. Ibas announced
it with great triumph to his friend: he regarded the confession of
faith laid down by the bishop Cyrill as a recantation on his part, — as
a token of the victory of pure doctrine, and of the universal restoration
of tranquillity.
Very soon, no doubt, he must see that he had been deceived in his
expectations, as may be gathered from what has been related above ;
for he himself had in truth a great deal to suffer for a long time after-
wards, until he was justified by the council of Chalcedon, from the en-
thusiasts for the doctrine of Cyrill. In the meantime, he became, in
435, the successor of Rabulas, as bishop of Edessa. By his means,
probably, the seminary for Persian church-teachers was reéstablished,
and it regained once more its former influence. ‘The persecutions which
1 The fragment of this letter is in the Acta Concil. Chale. act. X. Harduin. II. f. 530
552 NESTORIANISM IN PERSIA. MONOPHYSITES IN EGYPT.
Ibas afterwards had to suffer from the zealots of the opposite party,
and the behavior of this party under the guidance of a Dioscurns, all
this would of course be only suited to confirm the Persian Christians in
their predilection for the oppressed party, to which they had attached
themselves.
But the individual who contributed most to found and establish the
Nestorian church in Persia was Barsumas, one of those Persian teachers:
who had been driven away by the bishop Rabulas. His long and active
labors, from 435 to 489, as bishop of the city of Nisibis, gave him the
best opportunity for this. Although the accounts of later Jacobite his-
torians, especially such as Abulpharagius and Barhebrzeus of the 18th
century,! respecting the artifices he is said to have employed to deter-
mine the Persian king, Pherozes, in favor of his own party and against
the dominant church of the Roman empire, do not appear to be alto-
gether worthy of credit; yet there can, at least, be no doubt that
political reasons must have moved the Persian kings to favor a separa-
tion of the Christians of their kingdom from the Christians of the Roman
empire, and Barsumas doubtless might skilfully turn these reasons to
the advantage of his own party.
When, in the year 496, Babzeus, who was one of this party, became,
as patriarch of Seleucia, the head of the Persian church, he held a
synod, by which the Nestorian church-party was completely organized.
It became distinguished also from the rest of the Oriental church, by
allowing bishops and presbyters to marry.?
The Greek emperor Zeno broke up, it is true, in the year 489, the
Persian seminary at Edessa, on account of its Nestorianism. The con-
sequence of this, however, was the transfer of the school to Nisibis,
where it could freely develope itself under the Persian government,
and only flourished so much the more. From this school arose others
among this church party ; and through many centuries it contributed
to diffuse great enthusiasm for Christian knowledge and theological
culture, and particularly for biblical studies, to which the spirit of a
Theodore of Mopsuestia had given the incentives; and the Nestorian
churches became an important instrument of diffusing Christianity in
Eastern Asia.
The same was true also with regard to the propagation of the Mo-
nophysite party. In Egypt, the native country and proper home of
this sect, it ever continued to exercise an important influence. | But,
when the emperor Justinian sought to enforce there as elsewhere the
recognition of the authority of the council of Chalcedon, and to appoint
those as bishops there who were devoted to the doctrinal system of
that council, the Monophysites of this country renounced their connec-
tion with the dominant church, and maintained themselves as an inde-
pendent sect, under their own patriarchs. Their party, after all that
had transpired before, must have been the most numerous one. As
the Egyptian church was the mother of the Ethiopian, this state
1 See especially the extracts from them, Assemani bibl. oriental. T. IIL. P. I. f. 591, &.
2 Assemani_ III. 2, f. 79.
MONOPHYSITES IN ARMENIA. JACOBITES. 553
Lo
-of things would naturally have an influence also on the church in
Ethiopia.
The Monophysite church developed itself with more freedom in
Armenia. The persecutions waged against the Monophysites probably
contributed to bring about the insurrection of the province of Greater
Armenia, which facilitated the conquest of this country by the Persians.
To the Persian ruler Chosroes, the separation of his new Christian sub-
jects from the Christians of the Roman empire would of course be
welcome, and he was desirous of confirming it. Under him, Nierses,
the first bishop or catholicus of the Armenian church, held a synod at
Thiven, in 536, at which the Monophysite system was confirmed, and
the anathema pronounced on the Chalcedonian council.
The credit of having done most to preserve, establish, and extend
the Monophysite party in Syria and the adjacent countries, belongs to
aman distinguished for indefatigable zeal in the cause to which he
had devoted himself, for enterprising activity and a courage that des-
pised all dangers. In those regions, owing to the deficiency of clergy,
of which the emperor Justinian had found means to deprive them, the
Monophysite party was threatened with becoming gradually extinct,
when certain imprisoned bishops of this sect united together, and
ordained, as the general metropolitan of their church, the monk and
presbyter Jacob, from the cloister of Phasitla in the district of Nisibis,
aman inured to deprivations and hardships, and of unshaken firmness
and constancy. With great rapidity, and not without many dangers,
he traversed, under the disguise of a beggar,! the Syrian provinces and |
those adjacent ; he confirmed, by his exhortations, the oppressed party,
and ordained clergy for them ; he gave them a superior in the patriarch
of Antioch ; and labored for them himself, during “a period of thirty-
three years, until A.D. 578, as a bishop, probably at Edessa. From
him proceeded the name of Jacobites, which was applied sometimes to
the whole sect, sometimes to a part of it only.
The peculiar bent of mind, however, in which the Monophysite sys-
tem had originated, could not fail of soon becoming the source of inter-
nal divisions among themselves — that spirit which turned away from
living Christianity, and would fain confine the essence of faith to these
or the other dogmatic formulas. The doctrine of the one nature of
Christ, for the sake of which they had separated from the dominant
church, still contained matter enough for dialectical disputes; and the
differences which now began to be discussed among themselves, showed
how completely, notwithstanding the controversy had originally a
deeper foundation, men had finally lost themselves in wilful disputes about
terms and phrases, without any disposition to understand one another
in respect to the conceptions attached to them. ‘Thus in fact it came
about, that, amidst these controversies, many among the Monophysite
party agreed in their doctrinal views with the adherents of the Chalce-
donian council, except that they always substituted, instead of two
1 From this circumstance it is said he received the surname Al Baradai — Baradzus,
the man in rags.
VOL. I. 47
δδ4 MONOPHYSITES. JOHN PHILOPONUS.
natures in one person, one nature in one person. Thus the party of
Severus at Alexandria maintained, that deity and humanity, although
united in one nature, yet retained unaltered the attributes correspond-
ing to their proper essence ; and they agreed therefore, in this respect,
with the doctrinal conceptions of the Chalcedonian council. Stephanus,
surnamed Niobes, (Νιόβης or Νιόβος,) an Alexandrian rhetorician or sophist,
found something inconsistent in this view, judged from the position of
Monophysitism ; arid he became the founder of a distinct party, who
were called Niobites.
his disputed question was extended to the spiritual and corporeal
attributes of Christ’s humanity. Severus maintained, conformably to
his principles, and agreeing in this respect with the Duophysites, the
doctrine of Phthartodocetism in opposition to Julian of Halicarnassus.
Themistius, a deacon at Alexandria, who belonged to the party of
Severus, in applying this principle to the soul of Christ, fell, in truth,
into the same species of Agnoétism, which had already been denounced
as heresy in Theodore of Mopsuestia.
By the controversies of the Monophysites with the theologians of
the dominant church, the study of dialectics was greatly promoted in
their theological schools ; and this study found abundant nourishment
in the works of Aristotle, who, still earlier than this, had by many
been united with, or even preferred before Plato.t Dialectical acute-
ness was thusexcited ; and it is only to be lamented, that it should have
been, for the most part, wasted upon such unprofitable investigations,
-and could only move within the contracted circle of the church system
of doctrine then in vogue. Yet trained in the midst of this sect were
two men, eminently distinguished for freedom and originality of mind.
One of them, the learned and acute John, surnamed, on account of
his literary activity, the laborious, (ὁ φιλόπονος,) lived in the last times
of the sixth, and the beginning of the seventh century. He was an
Apologist,? and a zealous polemical divine.? While he was intending.
to attack, with his Aristotelian dialectics, the adherents of the Chalce-
donian council, and was thereby led to employ the conceptual deter-
minations of Aristotle, after a very inadequate manner, in explaining
and unfolding the doctrine of the Trinity, as, it is said, had been done
already by Ascusnages, a learned Monophysite, at Constantinople,
he drew upon himself the charge of heresy from the side of his own
party. He was wishing, namely, to show his opponents, that, if they
1 As early as the end of the fourth cen- 2 He wrote against Proclus and Jambli-
tury, Libanius, in speaking of such as had
come from the schools of Athens, mentions,
in connection with the cloak, not the
Academy and Plato, but the Lyceum and
Aristotle. See Libanius’ Discourse Πρὸς
τοὺς εἰς τὴν παιδείαν αὐτὸν ἀποσκωψάντας.
Vol. III. ed. Reiske, p. 438. So in fact the
Armenian David, who was educated at
Athens, introduced the study of Aristotle
into Armenia, near the close of the fifth
century. See Memoires sur la vie ct les
ouvrages de David, par C. F. Neumann,
Paris, 1829.
chus. Against the work of the latter, in
defence of image-worship. Photius (see
Cod. 215) was not entirely satisfied with
this work. Did Philoponus perhaps ex-
press himself on this occasion against ima-
ges after the same manner as the Mono-
pls Xenayas? See vol. II. p. 295.
3 Jn his Commentary on the history of
the Creation, he attacked with the Aristo-
telian logic, particularly, Theodore of Mop-
suestia,
STEPHANUS GOBARUS. 555
~ taught the doctrine of two natures in Christ, they must necessarily sup-
pose also two hypostases. ΤῸ make this out, he distinguished, as an Aris-
totelian, the twofold employment of the term nature (géac.) By this
was understood either the universal conception of the kind, (the εἴδος
ἐνυπόστατον,) or nature in the concrete, the individual beings in which
the universal was expressed and coined into particular existence, (the
ἰδιοσύστατος τῆς φύσεως ὕπαρξις, the ἄτομα.) Now, when men spoke of two
natures in Christ, they certainly did not understand, by the divine na-
ture, the common divine essence, but the divine Logos, one of the three
hypostases, in which the community of the divine nature, as of the
divine essence, was contained. Even in speaking of a human nature,
the human nature in general was not here meant; else it would be
necessary to say, that the Logos united himself with all the men who
ever had lived or who ever would live, for all these certainly belonged
to the universal conception of the kind ; but an altogether determinate
human nature was meant, with which alone, among all, the Logos
united himself in this manner. It was plain, therefore, that, in this
employment of it, the term φύσις was perfectly identical with the term
ὑπόστασις, and that accordingly, in supposing two natures, it would be
necessary to suppose also two hypostases in Christ.1 Now, by fixing
upon such comparisons as these, which Philoponus employed, his ene-
mies might, not without plausible grounds, accuse him of making the
conception of the divine essence a mere conception of the kind, and of
thus falling into Tritheism. ΤῸ the very same result came the school-
man Gilbert of Poictiers, in the twelfth century, by a like employment -
of Aristotelian formulas.
The second of these men, Stephanus Gobarus, (Στέφανος ὁ γοβαρός,Ὑ be-
longs also to the party founded by Philoponus. We know, it is true,
of but one book under his name, from the list of its contents by Photius ;?
but this suffices to signalize him as a man of rare freedom of spirit for
these times. While others aimed, for the most part, simply to point .
out the common church tradition in the teachings of the ancient church,
and while the differences among them were willingly kept out of view ;
this man, on the contrary, ventured to bring together the opposite
affirmative and negative decisions of the ancient church-teachers on
doctrinal and exegetical questions, in some cases on important points,
under twenty-five heads; and among these were to be found several
expressions of venerated fathers of the church, which at that time
might well appear offensive. Certain it could not have been his object
in this, to exalt the authority of the church tradition.
As it was frequently the case, that in opposition to, or along-side of,
the dialectic bent, a mystical tendency developed itself in theology, so
it happened also among the Monophysites. A cloister at Edessa,’ in
Mesopotamia, had for his head, in the last times of the fifth century, an
1 See the interesting fragment from the 8 From these districts came also the Eu-
polemical work which Philoponus wrote, chites, (sce vol. II. page 000,) in whose
entitled ὁ διαιτήτης, the arbitrator, in Johan- mysticism a good deal of a kindred character
nes Damascenus de heresibus. may be found.
2 Cod. 232.
606 THE MYSTIC BAR SUDAILI.
abbot by the name of Bar Sudaili, who had busied himself in various
ways with that mystic theology which always formed one of the ground-
tendencies of the Oriental Monachism, and from which had proceeded
the writings fabricated in the name of Dionysius the Areopagite ; as in
fact he appeals to the writings of a certain Hierotheos, whom the
Pseudo-Dionysius calls his teacher.! He stood at first on intimate
terms with the most eminent Monophysite teachers, and was very
highly esteemed by them. But, as his mystic theolozy came into con
flict with the church doctrine, he drew upon himself the most violent
attacks. Hspousing the peculiar views of Monophysitism, and more
particularly as they were apprehended by the party of Xenayas, he
maintained that, as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, are one divine
essence, and as the humanity formed one nature with the godhead in
Christ, and his body became of like essence to the divinity, (was deified, )
so through him all fallen beings should also be exalted to unity with
God, in this way would become one with God ; so that God, as Paul
expresses 10, should be all in all.
If it is true, as it is related,? that on the walls of his cell were found
written the words, ‘‘ All creatures are of the same essence with God ; ”’
we must suppose that he extended this assertion so as to include not
only all rational bemgs, but all creatures of every kind, and that his
theory was —as all existence proceeded by an original emanation from
God, so by redemption all existence, once more refined and ennobled,
would return back to him. But the question then arises, whether he
understood this, after the pantheistic manner, as a return to the divine
essence with the loss of all self-subsistent, individual existence ; (as it
has often been observed, that mysticism runs into pantheism ;) or
whether he supposed that, with the coming into existence of finite beings,
sin also necessarily made its appearance, but that by the redemption this
contrariety was removed, and now at length the individual existence
of the creature should continue to subsist, as such, in union with God.
Our information is too scanty to enable us to decide this question.®
As a transition-point to that universal restoration, he supposed a millennial
kingdom of exalted happiness on earth at the close of the earthly course
of the world. That he entertained the same sensual notions respecting
1 Jn the Pseudo-Dionysian writings cited
by him, there were ϑεολόγικαι στοιχειώσεις,
(ground-works of theology,) and ἐρωτικοί
ὕμνοι, (alluding to love in the sense of the
mystics.) Abulpharagius (in Assemani B.
“Ὁ. T. IL. f. 291) says that Bar Sudaili fab-
ricated a book under the name of this Hie-
rotheus, in confirmation of his own peculiar
opinions; but he adds himself, that by
many it was held to be a work of Hiero-
theus. It is probably therefore a mere con-
jecture of this Monophysite author, that
Bar Sudaili was the writer of that book.
It might possibly be, that Bar Sudaili found
an older apocryphal book, under this name,
among the monks, and used it in support
of his doctrines
2 This, however, may perhaps have been
an invention of his enemies; since in fact
they also affirmed, as the inscription was
no longer to be found in his cell, he had
erased it, when the thing began to be noised
abroad. The same opinion is said to
have been expressed in his books, only in a
inore concealed manner; but it may be a
question, whether men did not imply in these
writings a sense foreign to their true con-
tents, from hostile feelings or from miscon-
ception.
3 See the letter of the Monophysite bish-
op Xenayas to Abraham and Orestes, pre-
aoe of Edessa, in Assemani. T. IL
. 20.
DOCTRINE OF HUMAN NATURE. 557
this millennial reign as the older Chiliasts, we cannot assume to be
proved by the accusations of his opponents without the addition of more
decisive testimony. This would not be consistent, at least, with his
mystic theology ; and his mystical expressions might easily be miscon-
strued by those who considered them in a hostile spirit. But neither
are we warranted to pronounce the charge utterly false ; for combina
tions of a mystical and a sensuous tendency admit of being psychologic-
ally explained, and are not without example. Like the older Chiliasts,
Bar Sudaili taught that the Sabbath of that millennial period of rest,
the Sunday, answered to the commencement of a new, higher, eternal
order of world, after the universal restoration. By means of a mystical
interpretation of the Bible, he sought to introduce his doctrines into the
sacred scriptures, and for this purpose wrote commentaries on the
Psalms. He boasted of higher revelations, whereby the more profound
sense of scripture had been laid open to him. He called the sacred
scriptures dreams, and his own expositions the interpretation of dreams.
It was assuredly not his intention by this to disparage the authority of
the Bible, but only, after the usual manner of the Theosophists, to mark
their obscurity for ordinary men. The Bible contained nothing but
hints, intimations of higher mysteries, and hence could be understood
only by those to whom the Spirit communicated the intuitions of these
mysteries. But when this person was accused of having declared all
sacraments to be superfluous, as well as all moral discipline; of having
taught that each individual might live according to his own sinful lusts ;
it is evident, from the way in which these charges are laid, that they.
proceeded solely from an unjust fabrication of consequences. Because
Bar Sudaili taught the destiny of all would at length be the same by
reason of the universal restoration, it was inferred that, according to
this doctrine, then, nothing at all depended on the different conduct of
men, and each individual who continued to live in his sins would
nevertheless share at last in the same blessedness with all the others.
But Ber Sudaili would certainly have been far from admitting the cor-
rectness of these inferences.
ὁ. Anthropology.
From that part of the Christian system of faith which, as we remarked
in the introduction to this section, received its first shaping in the
Oriental church, conformably to its predominant speculative tendency,
from theology in the more restricted sense of the term, we pass next to
Antyeppalogy with the development of which, amid the contrariety of
views there appearing, the Western church particularly busied itself.
We noticed already, in the preceding period, the germs of opposite
tendencies in the mode of apprehending the doctrines connected with
this subject: from these germs, unfolded to more decided and strongly
marked opposition to one another, the controversies of this period pro-
ceeded. As the central doctrine of Christianity, the doctrine of the
redemption, in opposing itself to the delusive notion of a moral self:
sufficiency, presupposes, on the one hand, the sense of moral insufficiency,
VOL. II. 47*
id
558 DOCTRINE OF HUMAN NATURE.
of an inward schism, and the feeling thence resulting of the need of
redemption ; on the other hand, the sense of moral freedom, which im-
putes to itself guilt, and appropriates the offered redemption ;— as
Christianity announces itself, on the one hand, as a new transforming
moral creation, as a new element of life changing and ennobling the
entire human nature, and, on the other, attaches itself to the kindred
moral nature of man, purifies this from all that is foreign, and takes it
up into itself, in order to a free, harmonious development of its invidu-
ality of character ; so the relation of Christianity to human nature
could make its appearance in the dogmatic consciousness sometimes
more on one of these sides, and sometimes more on the other. -One
of these particular modes of apprehension made its appearance in
North Africa, through Tertullian ; the‘other, in the Alexandrian church,
particularly through Clement and Origen ; while yet the two modes of
apprehension were still preserved in union with each other by the
Christian consciousness lying at their root. One of these tendencies,
then, continued, generally speaking, to be the predominant one in the
Oriental, the other the predominant one in the Occidental church.
The sense of corruption, the consequent feeling of the need of redemp-
tion in man’s nature, of grace as a power for the moral transformation of
the corrupt nature, this was particularly unfolded in the Western church ;
while, at the same time, however, the church still persisted in regard-
ing the free moral self-determination as the condition presupposed by
the inworking of this higher, divine principle. In the Oriental church,
on the other hand, Christianity was also acknowledged, it is true, as a
divine communication of life, transcending the limits of man’s original
nature : in Christianity there was acknowledged to be a higher divine
creation ; and, proceeding from the first sin, there was acknowledged to
be a corruption of human nature, which must be cured by the redemp-
tion. It was regarded in particular as a consequence of the first sin,
that human nature had become subjected to mortality, to sensuous
defects and excitement, and to the manifold temptations of sin.1 (See
vol. I. sect. 8, p. 614.) But although this view of the redemption
as a remedy for existing evil was not repelled, yet the view of the
redemption as a new glorious creation was made still more prominent.
These two different modes of apprehension corresponded, in fact, to
two different courses of culture pursued by the individual, according as
the case was, that, either from a strongly pronounced consciousness of
guilt, he came to the gospel out of a sudden great crisis of the inner
life, or had unfolded himself by a more gradual and regulated progress
within Christianity itself, appropriating human nature from the first
stages of its development. In the Oriental church, it was simply held
to be essential to affirm grace and free-will at the same time, without
attempting exactly to define the relation of the two to each other ; it
was only sought carefully to avoid everything that might seem to favor
arbitrary will on the part of God in the election of men, — an uncon-
ditioned predetermination, which might seem to impair the doctrine of
1 The σῶμα ϑνῆτον and ἔμπαϑες, as contradistinguished from the earlier ἀπαϑεία
HILARY OF POICTIERS. 559
the divine love and justice, and of man’s free-will. To the mode of
treating these doctrines in the Oriental church, we shall return again
hereafter.
As examples to show how these doctrines were apprehended in the
Western church, previous to the breaking-out of these disputes, we
a lay open the systems of Hilary of Poictiers, and of Ambrose of
ilan.
In considering the scheme of doctrine which prevailed among the
Latins, it is important to notice, that, in their ancient translation of the
New Testament, the words ἐφ᾽ ᾧ πάντες ἥμαρτον (Rom. 5 : 12) were ren-
dered, “in quo omnes peccaverunt.” This furnished some apparent
ground for the representation, that all mankind sinned in Adam;
though we by no means intend to say, that the above erroneous trans-
lation was the only ground on which such a doctrine reposed. The
ground of it doubtless lay still deeper than that, in facts and enigmas
of the moral self-consciousness —in the same which also presented a
foothold for the various schemes of doctrine concerning the soul’s pre-
existence. At all events, however, this erroneous translation was the
means of bringing it about, that the above representation of all mankind
having sinned in Adam should be universally received as an undenia-
ble foundation of doctrine. This proposition, Hilary of Poictiers makes
his starting point, when, in commenting on Matth. 18 : 13, he under-
stands by the ninety and nine sheep which went not astray, the angels,
and by the one lost sheep, mankind; inasmuch as all humanity par-
took in the one sin of Adam.! As to the way in which this connection .
of the sin of Adam with the sin of mankind is to be conceived, it is a
point which he explains no farther. But thus much is clear, that from
this he derived a sinful inclination cleaving to all men ; as, for example,
where he speaks of sins to which men are led by the bent of their
nature.2_ Accordingly he says, that by baptism we are delivered from
the sins of our birth, are separated from the propensities of our progen-
itors, and lay aside the old man with his sins and his unbelief.? All
moral evil, however, Hilary seems to refer to the sensuous nature ;
while in the soul he recognizes the indestructible image of God.4 Thus
the contrariety betwixt the inner and the outer man is to him no other
than that betwixt spirit and sense. To him all men appear standing
in need of the forgiveness of sin, by reason of the moral defects which
cleave to them. ‘‘ The works of righteousness,” says he, ““ would not
be sufficient to deserve perfect blessedness, unless the mercy of God,
1 Commentar. in Matth. XVIII. § 6. Ovis
una homo intelligendus est, et sub homine
uno universitas sentienda est. Sed in unius
Adz errore omne hominum genus aberra-
vit. ets
? Ad hee nos vitia naturs nostra propel-
lit instinctus. Tract. in Ps. I. § 4.
8In Matth. X.§ 24. Ab originis nostra
peccatis atque auctoribus separamur, a pa-
tris et matris affectionibus dissidemus, vete-
rem cum peccatis atque infidelitate sua
hominem exuentes.
*Thus he says of Job: Formatus intra
matris vulvam et per virtutem Creatoris in
substantia anime ad Dei sui imaginem fig-
uratus, eum qui ex incremento accessit pro-
fectum editi corporis congemiscit, in quo
sibi in malis seculi et infirmitatibus carnis
Vitiisque vivendum sit. In Ps. CXIX. § 12.
5 Cum interior homo spiritus opera desid-
erat, exterior voluptates corporis concupis-
cit. In. Ps. CX XIX. § 6.
560 DOCTRINE OF HUMAN NATURE.
in those cases where the will was bent on righteousness, also forbore to
impute those faults which proceed from the fluctuation and inconstancy
of the human passions.”?!_ Human mutability, dependence on the in-
constancy of the affections, preclude, according to Hilary, the possibility
of perfect virtue. In comparison with God, no man can be called
good. There is no perfect virtue but that which remains unchangeably
the same. In man we can speak only of relative goodness: in single mo-
ments a man may be called good, either with reference to his intentions
or to his actions; but this is not an abiding state with him —a view of
the matter, we must allow, which proceeds from a somewhat superficial
way of considering it, since in moral life the individual moments do not
admit of being thus insulated from their connection with the whole.
“ Human passions,”’ says he, “ vary by alternation: thus, for example,
by injuries, man is irritated; by fear, he is disturbed ; by love, he is
differently affected ; by hatred, he is impelled, etc. But still, in the
moments when our will or our act is a good one, it cannot be otherwise
than that we should be what we are.”’2. The words of Christ, that he
was not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance, he ex-
plains as follows: Our Saviour would thereby have us to understand,
that as he was come in behalf of all, so all must see themselves to be
sinners, in order to partake of the salvation which is through him.? So
he says, ‘‘ By faith, that is obtained which the law could not bring to
- pass; faith alone justifies.” * But justification is manifestly to be un-
derstood here in the objective sense. According to this, then, we
might suppose Hilary would have been unwilling to admit the possi-
bility of a righteousness consisting in the fulfilment of the law. This,
however, is not his opinion. We find here a want of clearness in
/ respect to the conception of the law, which afterwards, as we shall see,
presented a foothold for Pelagianism. Failing to distinguish the two
different modes of apprehending the law, first according to its eternal,
divine matter, its spirit and essence; and secondly, the law in its par-
ticular, Mosaic form, in the outward statutes of this politico-theocratical
constitution, the law expressed in commandments having reference to
outward actions, — failing to distinguish and hold apart these two dif-
ferent applications of the conception, and having his mind fixed on the
last-mentioned reference, he was enabled to distinguish the standing
‘ground of a righteousness consisting in the fulfilment of the law, by
which one might, even without any knowledge of Christ, attain to a
certain stage of blessedness, and the standing ground of the higher
1Non enim ipsa illa justitiz opera suffici-
ent ad perfect beatitudinis meritum, nisi
misericordia Dei etiam in hoc justitiz vol-
untate humanarum: demutationum et mo-
tuum vitia non reputet. In Ps. LI. § 23.
2Tdcirco perfecta bonitas: in nullo est,
quia eam naturalium perturbationum incen-
tiva demutant. Sed tamen, cum in bonita-
tis sumus vel voluntate vel gestis, non pos-
sumus vel tunc non hoe esse quod. sumus.
Et quamvis imperfecti ad id simus, nec
semper id simus, quod tamen sumus in tem-
pore, licet per naturs infirmitatem demuta-
tioni bonitatis obnoxiis, non adimitur nobis
bonos: nos vel tum esse, cum sumus. In
Ps. LIL. §11. :
3 Omnibus venerat. Quomodo ergo non
se justis venisse dicit? Erant ergo, quibus
necesse non erat, ut veniret? Sed nemo
justus ex lege est. Ostendit ergo, inanem
justitiz esse jactantiam. In Matth. IX. § 2.
+ Remissum est a Christo, quod lex laxare
non poterat; fides enim sola justificat. In
Matth. VIII. ὁ 6.
HILARY OF POICTIERS. 561
righteousness by faith, which could be communicated only through
Christ.1 In proof of such a standing ground of righteousness by the law,
he refers to the words of Paul, (Rom. 10 : 5,) in which, we must allow,
he applies a meaning altogether opposed to the thought of the apostle ;?
as if he intended to say, that, on the standing ground of law, it would
have been possible for man to really fulfil it by works, and thus attain
to life. But this mistake grew out of his neglecting to distinguish the
sense of the word according to the original connection in which it is
employed in the Old Testament, and according to the application given
to it by the apostle Paul. Over against the laborious and painful right-
eousness of the law, and the sin-burdened life of the world, he places
the gentle yoke of Christ, under which the practice of goodness is made
easy by love; though in this case he fails rightly to explain how this
is connected with, and grounded in, the peculiar principle of the new
Christian life. ‘“ Those who painfully struggle along,” says he, ‘‘ under
the difficulties of the law, and those who are burdened with the
sins of the world, Christ calls to himself ; and he promises to make
their way easy and their burden light, if they will but take his yoke
upon them, that is, subject themselves to his commands, and come to
him under the holy sacrament of the cross ; because he is meek and
lowly of heart, and they shall therein (by submitting to his commands)
find rest to their souls: holding out the allurement of an easy yoke and
a light burden, that he may bestow on those who believe on him the
knowledge of the true good. And what easier, what lighter burden is
there than this ; to take delight in abstaining from sin, in willmg what -
is good, in loving all men, in hating none, in attaining to things eternal,
in not being carried away by things present and-temporal, in being
unwilling to do to others what you would not choose to suffer yourself ?3”
Now the only thing made prominent here is the standing ground of a
new and higher moral knowledge ; yet, in addition to this, we must
take from other passages the sense of the forgiveness of sin imparted .
by Christ ; nor should we neglect to notice the sacramentum crucis, of
which mention is here made. Moreover, he undoubtedly presupposes
the communication through Christ of a new principle of divine life —
which belongs to the essence of the justitia fidei, — to justification in
the subjective sense ; since he constantly admits the necessity of a co-
Operation of grace and free-will, in order to the vigorous growth of the
Christian life.
1Nec ambiguum est, eos in viventium tollant, mandatorum scilicet suorum prée-
libro esse, qui antea sine ullo Christi cogni-
tione pie in lege versati omnia prescripta
legis impleverint. Scribuntur autem in li-
bro justorum, quibus justitia Christus est
factus. In Ps. LX VIII. § 24.
2Jn the passage just cited: De quibus
secundum legem apostolus Paulus ita doc-
uit: quia qui fecerit ea, vivet in illis.
8Jn Matth. XI. 5.18. Legis deinde diffi-
cultatibus laborantes et peccatis seculi onera-
tos ad se advocat, demturumque se labo-
rem onusque promittit, si modo ejus jugum
cepta suscipiant, eumque sacramento crucis
adeant, qui corde humilis et mitis sit, et in
his animabus suis requiem inveniant; jugi
suavis et levis oneris blandimenta propo-
nens, ut credentibus ejus boni scientiam
preestet, quod solus ipse novit in Patre. Et
quid jugo ipsius suavius, quid onere levius,
probabilem fieri, scelere abstinere, bonum
velle, malum nolle, amare omnes, odisse
nullum, zterna consequi, preesentibus non
capi, nolle inferre alteri, quod ipsi sibi per-
peti sit molestum #
562 DOCTRINE OF HUMAN NATURE.
Thus he says! “As the organs of man’s body cannot exercise
their activity unless certain other causes supervene, as, for example, the
eye cannot see if there be no light ; so the human soul ever possesses
indeed the capacity of knowing God; but, unless it receives by faith
the gift of the Holy Ghost, it will not attain to the light of that knowl-
edge. Yet the gift of Christ is free for each man’s acceptance, and
that which is denied .to none is bestowed on each, just so far as he will
receive it. The Holy Spirit is the light of the soul ; but we must long
after it, we must labor to participate in it, and then preserve it within
us, by faithful obedience to the divine commands.”? “It is the ex-
treme of folly and of impiety,” says he in another place,’ “ not to see
clearly that we live in dependence on God, and derive everything from
God, and, in whatever we undertake or expect, to rely chiefly on our
own ability, when the truth is, that whoever has anything in himself
‘ean have it only from God. ‘To God, then, must all our hopes be
directed.”’ He considers it very important to set forth distinctly, that
all the operations of divine grace are conditioned on man’s free-will, —
to repel everything which might serve to favor the notion of a natural
necessity, or of an unconditional divine predestination. He quotes Ps.
58 : 5, to prove that sin cannot be considered as any thing innate, but
“must be referred to a guilty hardening of the will;* for the godless
man is here compared to a serpent that stops its ear to the voice of the
charmer. Every day is the word of God held forth in opposition to
the power of sin in man, to ward off and overcome it. ‘They who
hearken not to the voice of the gospel are therefore the generation of
vipers.° Expounding the scriptures conformably with his doctrinal in-
terest, he could find even in the passage, Rom. 9 : 13, which is alto-
gether at variance with his fundamental position, nothing else than a
divine predestination conditioned on the foreknowledge of the bent of
the human will.6 For the rest, it may be gathered from what has been
‘said, how much remained still vague and self-contradictory in the doc-
trine of Hilary. ‘There was a necessity for new developments, and a
more distinct presentation of oppositions hitherto concealed.
Ambrose may well be regarded as forming the intermediate link be-
tween the course of doctrinal development which had till now prevailed
in the Western church, and the great man from whom a new epoch
commences ;— namely, Augustin. Ambrose expresses himself still
ymore strongly than Hilary on the moral corruption of man, and its con-
nection with the first sin. Thus he says: ‘ We all have sinned in
1 De trinitate, 1. IT. ὁ 35.
tidie ne fallat, ne subrepat, ne mordeat,
2 Expetendus est, promerendus est, et
etiam sub divini nominis denuntiatione
deinceps praeceptorum fide atque observa-
tione retinendus. To the term promereri,
according to the Latin usus loquendi of this
period, the conception of merit, in the strict
sense of the term, is not to be attached.
8 In p. 51, § 20.
4In Ps. LVII.§ 3. Ne vitium referri pos-
set ad originem, preedurate in his ad obedi-
endum voluntatis crimen exprobrat.
5L.c. Cum ei (antiquo serpenti) quo-
mandetur, et tamen obstructo desevit audi-
tu: ex quo non obedientes evangelio natio
viperarum sunt.
6L..c. Sic Esau alienatus ab utero est,
cum major minori serviturus, etiam ante-
quam existeret, nuntiatur, Deo future non
nescio voluntatis, ipso potius hoc sciente,
quam aliquo ad necessitatem genito natu-
ramque peccati.
7 Apologia David altera, ὁ 71
AMBROSE OF MILAN. 563
. the first man; and, with the propagation of the nature, the propagation »
of the guilt also has passed from one to all. In him, human nature
sinned.”’ In one aspect, the corruption which passed from the first
parent to all his posterity seems to be derived from the law of natural
propagation; in another, a certain inherent connection seems to be
supposed between the first member of the human race, as one in whom
the whole kind was already contained in the germ, and all the later
members of the race ; as indeed Ambrose was already led to this view
by the phrase “in quo”? in.the.Latin version of Romans, 5: 12;
which expression was referred to Adam.! This idea was afterwards more
fully developed by the philosophical realism of Augustin. Yet Ambrose «
speaks, in other places, only of the personal guilt which each individual
man has to bear,? and derives from the first sin nothing but the excite-
ment to sin. Concerning grace also, as the exciting and efficacious
cause of all conversion, he declares himself still more strongly than
Hilary ; but he too supposes the operations of this grace are conditioned »
by human recipiency. ‘ Redemption,” he says, ‘is given gratuit-
ously, not according to the merit of works, but according to the free
will of the giver, according to the election of the Redeemer. Why did
some of the Israelites attain thereunto, others not? The latter did not,
because they were for justifying themselves ; because they were proud
of their works ; because they did not believe, and would not acknowl-
edge grace. The elect attained unto it, because they heard Him who
called them, received Him who came unto them. Since all do not de-
sire to be healed, but the greatest number avoid it, he heals those who —
will suffer themselves to be healed, and forces no man against his will.
The Lord calls the indolent, and awakens those who sleep. He who
comes to the door and knocks, is willing only to enter. But it is our
fault, if he does not always enter, if he does not always abide with us.
That true light shineth to all; but he who shuts to his windows, robs
himself of the light eternal.” 4 It is true, however, that, in two
passages, Ambrose expresses himself in such a way as to refer all —
that is good in man, solely to the agency of God as the operative cause, -
without mentioning the human self-determination as a necessary condi-
tion. When he says: “Christ brings it about, that that which is in
and of itself good, appears to be good also to us; for he calls him on
whom he has merey. Accordingly, he who follows Christ, and is asked,
why he will be a Christian, may reply: It so appears to me, that I
must be one. And by so saying, he does not deny that God’s good
pleasure has so ordered it; for it is by God the will of man is first
excited, for that God is loved and adored by the saints is the effect
of God’s grace.” ®
1 Exposit. Evang. Luce, 1. VII. p. 234.
Potest et hic in uno accipi species generis
humani. Fuit Adam, et in illo fuimus om-
nes. Periit Adam, ct in illo omnes perie-
runt.
2a. 48,§9. In Die judicii nostra in no-
bis, non alieng iniquitatis flagitia punientur.
3 The lubricum delinquendi.
4 See in . 43, ὁ 47, in ψ. 118, ὁ 13, De
interpellat. David. 1. 1V. § 4.
5In Lucam, 1. I. §10. Christus, ut id
quod bonum est, nobis quoque videri bonum
possit, operatur; quem enim miscratur, et
voecat. Et ideo, qui Christum sequitur,
potest interrogatus, cur esse volucrit Christi-
anus, respondere: visum est mihi. Quod
564 PELAGIUS AND AUGUSTIN.
This passage might, perhaps, be understood to mean that the human
self-determination, the mihi videtur, is something free merely in appear-
ance, but properly grounded in the determining act of the divine will,
which determines all things.
This thought comes out still more strongly in the following words of
Ambrose in the same work: ‘God calls those whom he deigns to
call; whom he will, he makes religious.””"1_ Now if we understand these
passages as meaning’ that a grace determining man’s will with irresist-
ible necessity is here supposed, then, inasmuch as this supposition con-
tradicts the assertions of Ambrose above quoted, we must admit that
«conflicting elements entered into his view of the faith ; as in fact such
appearances sometimes manifest themselves at the point of transition
from one stage of development to another ; and as we might very naturally
expect it would happen in the case of a man who was not an original
and systematic divine, but spoke rather according to the momentary
impulse of his feelings. But although the freedom of the divine elec-
tion and the creative agency of grace are made particularly prominent
in these passages, still they do not imply any necessary exclusion of
the state of recipiency in the individual as a condition; and, accord-
ingly, this assertion of Ambrose admits of being easily reconciled with
the assertions first quoted.2 In another place, at least, he expressly
supposes that predestination is conditioned by foreknowledge.®
Thus, it is evident then, if we call to mind the relation of Ambrose
to the Oriental church-teachers, the way, indeed, was already prepared
“for the appearance of the opposite moments in the mode of treating
these doctrines. Yet the two churches, separated by difference of
language, stood too remotely distant from each other to come to any
mutual consciousness of this existing opposition, and to be led by it
into a relation of mutual hostility. >The opposition was destined to
make its appearance in the Western church itself, and there to be
evolved and presented in lines so well defined and strongly marked, that
an open contest between the two opposite tendencies would be inevita-
“ble. This first took place when these tendencies, in such representa-
tives of them respectively as Augustin and Pelagius, had unfolded
themselves to such a degree of sharpness as mutually to exclude each
other.
We must speak in the first place, therefore, of these two men; and
we will begin with Augustin, because the development of his theolog-
ical views on the points now under consideration was guided and de-
termined by causes wholly within himself, and depended on no impulse
cum dicit, non negat, Deo visum, a Deo
enim prparatur voluntas hominum. Ut
enim Deus honorificetur a sancto, Dei gra-
tia est.
1 In Lucam VII. § 27. Deus quos dignat,
vocat, quos vult, religiosos facit.
2 Augustin, in his work “de dono perse-
verantiz” cites both these passages of Am-
brose as testimonies in favor of the doctrine
of grace working all. It may be, perhaps,
that the mode of teaching pursued by
Ambrose was not without its influence on
him: but he was certainly not led by it to
the doctrine of absolute predestination ; for
this doctrine did not unfold itself in his
mind till a much later period. Besides, in
the case of a man possessed of the intellect
of Augustin, the power of such influence
from abroad ought not to be overrated.
3 De fide, 1. V. § 83.
AUGUSTIN. 565
‘derived from outward opposition; while, on the development of the
system of Pelagius, a man possessed of a less original, a less specula-
tive and systematizing spirit, the practical opposition to those doctrinal
views which were akin to, or proceeded from, the mind of Augustin,
had a great influence.
To the tendency which we have designated as the one peculiar to the
Western church, and which we saw expressed particularly by Ambrose,
Augustin was inclined by the peculiar course of education in which
his whole life had been trained, and which we have already described.!
We have seen how it was only after a long and violent conflict with
a fiery nature, but which struggled against the godlike in a wild feeling
of power, that he attained to inward peace. Through many years
tossed one side and the other, between the ideals which attracted the
cravings of his spirit, and the desires and passions which held him
chained to the pleasures of the world, he experienced in himself the
conflict betwixt the spirit and the flesh. From his own inward experi-’
ence he learned how to understand the fundamental ideas of the
Christian, more particularly of the Pauline, doctrine concerning man ;
and with the study of St. Paul’s writings he was, in fact, particularly
occupied at the time when that great crisis occurred in his inner life.
As he found those two great divisions in his own life,— the nature
which, after all the efforts in his power, still remained impotent, and
struggled in vain for holiness, and the nature subordinated to faith, and
victorious over sin through the power of redemption,—so he found
once more the same two main divisions in the development of human -
nature as a whole. The opposition between that which proceeded from
the nature left to itself and estranged from God, and that which came
from the new and di.ine principle of life imparted to humanity by re-
demption and regeneration, this opposition, which he had learned from
his own inward experience, came, from his life, to be the central point»
of his system of faith. As the opposites of good and evil in human .
nature presented themselves to the notice of Augustin from the first,
it must have struck him as being the most difficult of all questions —
Whence, in that human nature which feels itself attracted by the good,
which is conscious of it as its original essence, whence the evd in it?
This question occupied him the moment his thoughts were awakened
on higher subjects. The meditation of this question conducted him to
Manicheism, and with it was connected his renunciation of Manicheism.
To Pelagius, on the other hand, this question would be attended with
no difficulty at all. This became the central point for his thoughts,
which strove after systematic connection and logical consistency. His
systematizing mind, when it had once seized hold of a principle, was
impelled to unfold and to apply it with the most rigid severity, not
shrinking from any of the consequences to which it might lead.
But then we must distinguish different epochs and periods in Au-
gustin’s doctrinal progress, departing from which, and passing through
which, he first attained to the last consistent development of the doc- -
1See page 354 ff.
VOL. 11. 48
566 DOCTRINAL DEVELOPMENT
trinal principles which had flowed from that great crisis in his inner
life.
The first period embraces the works which he wrote after his bap-
tism until the first years of his entering upon the duties of a presbyter,
— that-is, until about the year 894,— his works, de moribus ecclesiv
Catholicze et Manichzorum, de vera religione, and de libero arbitrio.
In this period of his life, his Christian experience of the need man
feels of help and of redemption when he has become conscious of his
moral evil, and the consciousness that the communion of man-with God
once more restored by the redemption — that grace — was the spring of
everything truly good in man—this experience and consciousness was
united with the idea he had derived from Platonism, of the relation
of all good with the primeval good, of all being with the Supreme and
Absolute Being. ‘The principle of grace and of resignation to God, as
the original source of all good, was the common element between the
first period and all the succeeding periods of his doctrinal progress ;
the groundwork from which everything in his case proceeded, and on
which he framed his system with an ever-increasing consistency. But
along with this tendency, there were at that time still other tendencies
in his mind, which at a later period were, in part, suppressed by the
entire and one-sided predominance of the main tendency above de-
seribed. Very unjustly have Augustin’s anthropological views been
attributed to the influence of Manicheism. , His doctrine concerning
“the moral corruption of human nature was something entirely different
from the dualism of Mani’s philosophy of nature: it grew not (as in
the case of Mani) out of a confusion of the moral element with the
intuition of nature, but out of a simple fact of the moral consciousness.
Rather it might be said that the consciousness, early awakened in his
profound soul, of the irreconcilable opposition between good and evil,
led him, while endeavoring to account to himself for this opposition
in a speculative way, to Manicheism; but that the moral apprehension
of this opposition, which forced itself with ever-increasing strength
upon his mind, drew him away again from Manicheism. Again, from
v Platonism, and directly in opposition to Manicheism, his theory unfolded
itself, that sin had not, as Manicheism taught, a selfsubsistent existence
of its own; but that, as all existence, all true being, sprung from the
highest, the absolute, and is grounded in that, so evil is nothing other
“than just the subjective aberration of the created being from the law
of the Supreme and only true Being; is, inand of itself, nothing, not being,
the μη 6v,— but which, nevertheless, the moment it begins to act, must
subject itself to the law of the highest being ;! and to this pomt Augus-
tin always firmly adhered. Nor did he find any difficulty in bringing
it into harmony with his later doctrine of absolute predestination. On
the other hand, he united with it, in this period, another principle, by
which this earlier period is essentially distinguished from the later.
He attached great importance, in this period, to the principle, that
1 A defectus ab ordine, which yet must be subservient to the summus ordo. See especi
ally the books de ordine.
OF AUGUSTIN. 567
the above-mentioned subjective aberration from the supreme good could
not be explained on any ground of natural necessity, but could only be
derived from the free-will ; and that the self-determining power of the»
free-will continued ever to be the ground of this aberration ; that the
cause of the diverse relations of men to the supreme good was ever to
’ be traced only to the diverse bents of their free-will, which admitted
of no farther explanation. The firm and steadfast adherence to the free-
will as contradistinguished from natural necessity was, in this period,
considered by him of the utmost importance. Beyond question, he
also held fast to this pot, at least in theory, in the later period ; but
it was only by a dialectic self-deception that he was enabled still
to unite it, in reference to practical conduct, with the results of his
later system.
The principles of Augustin, as they present themselves at this point
of view, were as follows: In the condition in which man now finds
himself, it is not in his power to be good ; because he either does not
know what he ought to be by his destination, or, if he knows it, is not
able to live conformably to his known destination. Ignorance of the
good, and the difficulty in practising it, these are the moral evils of
human nature ; and this would be inconsistent with God’s justice, were
it not a righteous punishment. Sin is its own punishment; so that,
when man had the knowledge of good, and made no use of it, he there-
by lost the knowledge ; and when, possessing the faculty for good, he did
not practise it, he lost thereby the faculty itself. If the question now
presented itself, how does this hindrance to goodness, found cleaving to
the moral nature of all men, admit of being reconciled with God’s right-
eous judgment ? He answered: Man could rightly complain, if no one
had ever yet got the victory over the force of error and of passion ;
but the truth is, on the other hand, the means are supplied by which
man may obtain the victory. God is everywhere present; and in
manifold ways, by the creatures who execute his will, calls after man
who has revolted from him, instructs the believing, strengthens and sup-
ports those who do what they can. Inculpable ignorance is not im-
puted to man as a sin; but this, that he does not strive after better
knowledge: his moral imperfections are not reckoned to him as a
crime ; but he is justly culpable for the neglect of the means lying in
his power. Augustin here supposed, then, the influences of divine
grace, without which man could not be freed from his moral evil, to be
invariably conditioned by the subjective bent of the free-will.
In a work composed about the year 394, entitled, ‘‘ An Exposition
of difficult passages in the Epistle to the Romans,”! the exposi-
tion of the difficult passage in the ninth chapter, which, at a later
period, was especially employed by him to prove the doctrine of abso-
lute predestination, afforded him an occasion for distinctly unfolding the
connection of his ideas on this whole subject. He proceeds on the
principle, that all men find themselves in a state of alienation from
God, in which they can perfectly bring to pass nothing that is truly
1 Explicatio propositionum quarundam de epistola ad Romanos
--...
568 DOCTRINAL DEVELOPMENT
good. The love of God is the spring and fountain of all that is truly
good ; and to this, man can attain only by the communication of the Ho-
ly Spirit. As, then, he can accomplish nothing good before this renewal
of his inner life by the Holy Spirit, so neither can he merit, by any
kind of good works, the grace by which he is cured of his moral mala-
dies: grace precedes all desert. But on this account, however, there
is nothing like arbitrary will on the part of God, when he gives to some,
and withholds from others, the grace by which men obtain salvation.
sMen obtain this grace by faith; and faith is wholly the work. of man.}
In the passage relating to the choice of Jacob and the rejection of
Esau, he believed, therefore, that he found the contrary position to an
election conditioned on good works, but not to an election conditioned
on faith.2 The apostle Paul says —he remarks — God works all in all,
but by no means, God belzeves all in all., The hardening of Pharaoh,
he explains as the fruit of his own guilt; the punishment of his pre-
vious unbelief, whereby his sin punished itself.
It is worth while to notice the way in which Augustin expressed
himself respecting these matters on another occasion, namely, at the
time when he was slowly progressing onward towards this last conclu-
sion. In the collection of answers given by him to various questions
proposed to him from the time of his return to North Africa, in the year
388, and onward,° (his work de diversis questionibus octoginta tribus, )
the answer to the question relating to Rom. 9: 20, and what follows
(Quest. 68,) probably belongs, as we may infer from the contents of
the answer, to a somewhat later period.
Starting on the principle, that divine things can be understood only
from the experience of faith and in connection with a sanctified temper,
he asserts that the apostle here by no means intends to restrain the
pious from inquiring into these things, but only those who are not as
yet sufficiently well grounded in love, the earthly-minded, those who
are for understanding God’s counsels without being the children and
friends of God. ‘ Cleanse thyself from the old leaven,”’ says he, ‘ that
thou mayst be a new dough; and that, in so being, thou mayst be no
longer in the childhood of Christianity, so as to need milk to drink, but
mayst reach the perfect age of manhood, and be one of those to whom
it is said, We speak wisdom among those that are perfect. Then wilt thou
discern, in the right way and in the right order, the secrets of the Al-
mighty concerning the most hidden deserts of souls‘— concerning grace
or justice.” As it respects Pharaoh, he then remarks, the question may
be easily answered. Through his earlier criminality, in oppressing the
strangers in his kingdom, he deserved that his heart should be hardened,
1 § 60. Quod credimus, nostrum est. *De animarum occultissimis meritis ;
Quod autem bonum operamur, illius, qui
credentibus in se dat Spiritum Sanctum.
2 Non quidem Deus eligit opera, que ipse
largitur cum dat Spiritum Sanctum, ut per
caritatem bona operemur; sed tamen eligit
fidem.
8 So the terminus a quo is fixed by him-
self. Retract. lib. I. c. 26,
which doubtless refers to the hidden inward
character, ere it manifests itself in appear-
ance — something which is known only to
the divine foreknowledge, and hence con-
ditions God’s providential dealings with
men. ᾿
OF AUGUSTIN. 569
.80 that he could not be moved to believe, even by the most evident mira
cles of the commanding God. Beyond question, he has mercy on whom
he will have mercy; and whom he will, he hardens. But this will cannot
be an unjust one, since it proceeds on the most hidden relations of desert,
(is conditioned by them ;) for though sinners, on the ground of the
universal sin, constitute one mass, yet there is a difference among them.
There is in sinners, therefore, something that precedes, whereby,
although not yet justified, (that is, made just, sanctified,) they are yet
made worthy of justification.1 That still remains true, which was
spoken by the apostle, (Rom. 9: 16,) ‘It is not of him that willeth,
nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy.” For
although one who is oppressed with the lighter sins, or indeed with sins
however great in magnitude and number, may, by bitter sighs and many
pains of repentance, become worthy of God’s compassion, yet it is not
his own work, since, left to himself, he would perish ; but it must be
ascribed to the mercy of God, who comes to the help of his prayers and
his sorrows.? It is little to will, if God does not have mercy ; but God
does not have mercy, unless the will has preceded. And since none
can will, unless exhorted and called, (whether in the secret recesses
of the soul, and in a way not seen by man, or from without by the word,
or visible signs,) it follows from this, that the willing disposition itself
is wrought in us by God.? Next he says: ‘ But the calling which is
made to individuals, or to single nations, or to the whole race in the
right point of time, belongs to a high and profound order of things.”
To this he reckoned the passages in Jer. 1: 5; Malachi, 1 : 2 and 3.
« And this can be comprehended perhaps by those only who love God
with all the heart, and their neighbors as themselves. Yet this must
be held fast with an unwavering faith, that God does nothing in the way
of injustice, and that there is no being who is not indebted to God for
all that he 18. These words might, indeed, be understood as referring
to the mystery of absolute predestination ; so that Augustin was at that
time still reluctant to express himself more openly ; as indeed he
seems to have explained this passage in his Retractations. Yet, when
we take the words in connection with what has been said before, we
certainly cannot doubt, that, at the time he wrote this, he did not so
κε
understand it, but rather had in his thoughts a foreknowledge con-)
ditioned on a foreknowledge of those oceultissima merita.
In this scheme of Augustin, however, there was a great deal which,
after a more full examination of all that was contained in his Christian
consciousness, and a longer study of the sacred scriptures, must event-
1 ξ 4, Venit enim de occultissimis meritis,
quia et ipsi peccatores, cum propter generale
peccatum unam massam fecerint, non tamen
nulla est inter illos diversitas. Preecedit
ergo aliquid in peccatoribus, quo, quamvis
nondum sit justificati, digni efficiantur jus-
tificatione, et item preecedit in aliis peccator-
ibus quo digni sunt obtusione.
2§5. Quia etiamsi levioribus quisque
peceatis, aut certe quamvis gravioribus et
multis, tamen magno gemitu et dolore
VOL. IL. 48"
peenitendi, misericordia Dei dignus fuerit,
non ipsius est, qui si relinqueretur, interiret,
sed miserentis Dei, qui ejus precibus dolori-
busque subvenit.
8 Et quoniam nec velle quisquam potest,
nisi admonitus et vocatus, sive intrinsecus,
ubi nullus hominum videt, sive extrinsecus
per sermonem sonantem, aut per aliqua
signa visibilia etficitur, ut etiam ipsum velle
Deus operetur in nobis. L. 6.
570
DOCTRINAL DEVELOPMENT
ually appear untenable to a mind which so constantly strove after cun-
sistency and unity. For in proportion as he learned to place a higher
value on the essence and dignity of faith,! in proportion as the one-
sided idea of faith, which was first apprehended by him as a faith on
authority, came to be gradually refined and transfigured into the idea
of a living faith ; in the same proportion it must become clear to him,
that faith already presupposed the entrance of the divine life into the
soul of man, that the divine and human elements had here already com-
mingled, and that the two could not be set off from one another by any
such strict line of demarkation. But, in perceiving this, he might easily
run into the other extreme, of referring faith, like all the rest, solely to
the divine agency, and wholly repressing the self-determining activity
of the man. »Add to this, that the Theodicee which he had earlier
attempted to construct on the groundwork of a predestination con-
ditioned by foreknowledge,? could not satisfy his acute and sagacious
mind, in its application to the calling of nations and the election of indi-
viduals, and the explanation, grounded thereupon, of the difficulties in
the epistle to the Romans.
To such a mind, it would seem preferable
to cut the Gordian knot, which could be resolved by no human expla-
‘nation.
And so it appears in fact, that Augustin, within the space of three
or four years, had, from the point above described, changed his way of
thinking on these matters; since he came to perceive that the divine
and human elements did not admit of being so severed from each
other ; that a divine element was, in fact, contained already in faith.
When, in 397, he wrote his work addressed to Simplician, bishop of
Milan, in answer to various questions relating to the epistle to the
Romans,’ this turning point of his dogmatic bent first clearly unfolded
itself to the light.4 -- He combated in this performance the very theory
which he had earlier maintained ;
and it is easy to perceive, in the
way in which he seeks to show its untenable character, that the time
had not been long since he came to this view, and was seized with
the first zeal in behalf of the new light which he supposed he had
found.
Here also Augustin busies himself with the explanation of those diffi-
cult passages in the ninth chapter of the epistle to the Romans ;° but
his previous mode of explanation no longer satisfied him. “But whence
came it, that he now explains these passages in that sense which be-
1 Sce vol. 11. sect. I. pp. 434, 435.
2 As, for example, that God’s election of
individuals and calling of nations was con-
ditioned on his foreknowledge of the way
in which they would be disposed towards
his gospel, if it should be announced to
them. See ep. 102 to Deogratias: Quibus
omnino anuntiata non est, (salus,) non
credituri presciebantur. Yet when Augus-
tin wrote this, in the year 408, he had long
since brought to a completion his doctrine
of predestination ; and this answer, therefore,
could no longer have satisfied him; and he
had already in reserve, from the standing
ground of this doctrine, another answer,
which he hinted at: Excepta illa altitudine
sapientiz et scientiz Dei, ubi fortassis aliud
divinum consilium longe secretius latet.
3 De diversis questionibus, ad Simplicia-
num libri duo. ‘
4 As he himself expresses it, de praedesti-
natione sanctorum, 6. 20, in reference to the
work above mentioned: Plenius sapere
ccepi in mei episcopatus exordio, quando et
initium fidei donum Dei esse cognovi et
asserul. ᾿
δῚ,. I. Quest. 11.
OF AUGUSTIN. 571
- yond question must first offer itself when no regard is had to the con-
nection and aim of the epistle, and madé them the groundwork of his
system, although, at an earlier period, he had explained the same pas-
sages according to the system which he supposed he had derived
from the whole doctrine of scripture? Assuredly, we must look for the
cause of the different impression which these passages now made on
his mind, to the change in his whole mode of thinking, that grew out
of his inner life. It is now clear to him, that Paul supposes neither an
election of God conditioned on the foreknowledge of faith, nor an elec-
tion conditioned on the foreknowledge of the works growing out of
faith ; for Paul in fact lays stress on the assertion, that God’s election
made a difference before the children were born, before they could
believe, as well as before they could do anything.! Moreover, the
desert of faith does not precede God’s mercy ; but it presupposes this
mercy ; and faith itself is one of the gifts of God’s grace. Paul, in
Rom. 9:11, certainly does not set the works of man over against
faith, as the ground of the calling ; but he sets the calling over against
works. The calling of God, therefore, is here the first cause. Faith
presupposes the calling. But whence comes it, then, that the call by
the preaching of the gospel and by outward circumstances, which pave
the way for this, comes to some and not to others; and that the same
influences from without, make a different impression on different men,
nay, a different impression on the same men at different times? The
almighty and all-wise God could find, in reference to the different
states of men, those means of influencing them, which must make an.
impression on them with inward necessity, so that awakened, drawn,
touched, and enlightened, they would follow, without being conscious
of any resistance against the grace operating upon their will.2 We
must say, doubtless, man’s willing is nothing without the divine mercy ; |
but in nowise can we say, God’s mercy and grace are nothing without
man’s willing ; since God would find means of moulding every human)
will,in the way precisely suited to the character of each. On whomso-
ever he actually has mercy, whomsoever he actually chooses, him he
calls in the way which is so befitting, that the subject is irresistibly
drawn by him who calls, though he follows with freedom. Neither is
Augustin satisfied any longer to explain the hardening and the conse-
quent rejection of one as opposed to the election of another, as a judg-
ment specially drawn down upon the individual by his own sin;
for God’s almighty power, he supposes, could assuredly find the
means to operate upon every degree of hardness, and the same insen-
sibility exists everywhere alike, till God moves the heart of man by his
race.
Thus, then, Augustin comes to the result, that all men are found in
the same state of condemnation ; the reason—not why God plunges
1 Si non de operibus, que non erant in esset, ut et moverentur et intelligerent et
nondum natis, nec de fide, quia nec ipsa sequerentur. :
erat. Cujus autem miseretur, sic eum vocat,
2 Posset ita vocare, quomodo illis aptum quomodo scit ei congruere, ut yocantem non
respuat.
572 PELAGIUS.
some to destruction, which is altogether alien from God’s holiness and
love —but why he does not rescue some from the destruction into
which all, by the guilt of the first sin, have fallen according to God’s
righteous judgment ; but out of his free love has mercy on others, and
calls them by his grace to everlasting life—the reason of this lies in
the secret and by us incomprehensible counsels of the Almighty. But
to this we must ever hold fast, namely, that God’s justice cannot be
impeached, although the exercise and range of it may surpass the
measure of our knowledge. Yet, even according to the analogy of
human relations, he cannot be accused of injustice, who according to
his pleasure remits the debts of one man, while he requires payment
from another.
Since, as appears from what has now been said, Augustin had
completed his doctrinal system on this particular side, more than
ten years before the opmions of Pelagius excited any public contro-
versy, it is clear that opposition to Pelagius could not have influenced
him in forming it. With more propriety may it be said, that opposition
to such doctrines as those of Augustin, or to the practical consequences
which through misconstruction or abuse were derived from such doc-
trines, had no small share in leading Pelagius to form such a system as
he did--, The Pelagian tendency is to be traced,\in the first place, to
certain latent germs which were the undetected source of many views
and opinions prevailing in the church ; ‘and next it was called forth by
the struggle to oppose various errors of practical life which had become
widely spread. And then it sometimes happened that the tendency
of Pelagius, and the errors to which it was opposed, proceeded from the
same principle, and were but different branches springing from the
same root. ‘To explain the first of these remarks, we discern, in
that tendency which separated the Christian life from its connection
with the one centre which should sustain the whole of it, from the
single reference to Christ as its source ; in the isolation and undue ex-
altation of what belongs to the human side, the over-valvation of hu-
man doing; the separation of the moral element from its connection
with the common root of all Christian life; in the fond fancy of a per-
fection going beyond what the law demands, transcending ordinary
Christianity ; —in a word, we discern in all that which called forth the
redction of the Christian consciousness as it appeared in Jovinian, the
incipient germs of, or point of attachment for, the Pelagian element.
But history allows nothing to remain covered up and concealed. False
elements, which have imperceptibly attached themselves to Christianity
-in its process of unfolding what it contains, must cast off their envelope,
expand to the open day, and fully express themselves, that they may be
overcome by the pure Christian principle. Such is the significance of
the tendency of Pelagius in the course of the church develo; ment.
Pelagius was a monk of Britain.'’ The fact of his being trained and
1 He bore the surname Pelagius Brito, to counts of Marius Mercator, Prosper, and
distinguish him from another individual of | Orasius, mention this as his native country ;
the same name, (see Augustin. ep. 186 ad — and the fact that Jerome (preefat. commen-
Paulinum.) Moreover, the concurrent ac- tar. in Jeremiam) calls him Scotorum pulti-
INFLUENCE OF MONASTIC LIFE UPON HIM. 573
educated, both in that particular country and also in Monachism, had
an important influence on the development of his doctrinal views. As
the British church was derived originally from the Oriental, it is prob-
able that in various ways the connection between them continued to be
maintained. Pelagius was a diligent student of the Oriental church-
teachers; and the form in which he found Christian anthropology ex-
hibited in these writers, corresponded with the peculiar development of
his own inner life.
Pelagius differed from Augustin, as in the whole stamp and charac-
ter of his mind, so by virtue of the peculiar course of his early educa-
tion and training. He did not possess, like Augustin, that mighty
nature which could not otherwise attain to peace but by passing through
many devious wanderings and hard conflicts. His was a feebler,
more limited nature; but one, too, which could more easily develope
itself in a smooth and gentle course — could more easily be controlled
and conducted to its destined end. He was not possessed of the pro-
found, speculative spirit which we find in Augustin: his predominant
4
faculty was a sober, discreet understanding, joined with moral earnest- Ὁ
ness. In learning, he was Augustin’s superior. An earnest striving
after moral excellence had inspired him from the first ;} and his improve-
ment had been quietly progressive. It was not from some great crisis
of the inner life, not through a violent conflict, that he had attained to
the faith, or to the determination of consecrating his whole life to God ;
but, without his being conscious of any opposition to its influences,
Christianity acted as an inward principle on his moral development.
He did not have to contend with a wild and fiery natural temperament,
nor with desires and passions peculiarly predominant.? Nor was he
thrown into any of those storms of outward life, in which he might
have been called to engage in a special struggle with himself; for he
led a silent life in the midst of studies and monastic ascetism. While
it was the case, as we have already remarked, that among the monks
belonging to a certain class of human natures, the striving after moral
ideals, by which they sought to mould and fashion their inner life, ex-
cited a more profound self-contemplation and led to a deeper self-knowl-
edge ; and while these, struck with the feeling of opposition between
what they saw in their own inner life and those ideals which inspired
them, sought from God manifest in Christ the removal of this opposition,
and the satisfaction of their deep-felt need ; others, on the contrary,
by the intuition of these ideals, which seemed to them only a reflex of
bus pregravatum does not invalidate this acquired universal respect. He says of him,
testimony; forthe North Britons and the
Scots were not always very carefully distin-
guished. His name might also be a mark
of his country, even though the English
legend, that he bore among his own coun-
trymen the name of Morgan, were without
foundation.
1 Augustin, the warm but candid oppo-
nent of Pelagius. is assuredly the witness
most worthy of confidence for the fact, that
Pelagius, by his rigid life as a monk, had
(de peccatorum meritis et remissione, 1. III.
6. 3,) Istum, sicut eum qui noverunt, lo-
quuntur, bonum ac preedicandum_ virum.
Ille tam egregie Christianus,—and in ep.
186 he writes concerning him: Non solum
dileximus, verum etiam diligimus eum.
2 For this description, indeed, we can cite
no historical authorities, so very little is
known by us respecting the life of this man;
but we take the impression of him from his
doctrines and writings.
574 PELAGIUS.
their own moral nature, by the successful results of their ascetic disci-
pline, by the consciousness of a power of will to overcome the allure-
ments of sense, were only led to feel their own moral strength, and to
confide in their own moral efforts. It easily came to be the predomi-
nant thought with them, how far the man might advance towards per-
fection by a self-active development of the germs of goodness lying in
his own moral nature, by the superior energy of the will, by self-control.
It easily happened, too, that in the outward ascetism of the monastic
life, in its efforts to subdue the sensual impulses, the true nature of
inward holiness, of the disposition which has its root in love, was over-
looked ; that, in watching against the individual outbreaks of sin, monks
neglected to pay any attention to its secret springs, and so failed in
respect to the words of our Lord, Matth. 12: 29. Thus they might
be led to believe they had produced great outward results by human
efforts, while the radical evil was as far from being cured as ever. As
it regards Pelagius, it cannot be asserted, at least without qualification,
that such was the effect produced on him. On the contrary, in this
respect he is an example of the better moral spirit of Monachism.
His letter to Demetrias,! a virgin who had been consecrated as a nun, testi-
fies how important he felt it to be to warn men against the aberrations
of the ascetic spirit, involved, though unconsciously to itself, in hypoc-
risy, and concealing spiritual pride under the mask of humility; to
warn them against a tendency which, while it combated particular sins,
thought it might indulge in others with the less reserve.2 He well
knew how to distinguish the mock humility which covers spiritual pride,
from the true humility taught by Christ. Very justly he says of his
contemporaries in this regard: ‘* Many pursue the shadow of this virtue,
few its real substance ;” and he then proceeds to draw a picture, taken
doubtless from the life, of the mock holiness of those who assumed the
outward guise of humility. ‘It is very easy to wear miserable clothing ;
to salute one’s acquaintance in a lowly manner; to put on the show of
humility and meekness by a drooping head and downcast eyes; to
speak in a low and feeble voice, so that one’s words can scarcely be
heard; to sigh frequently, and with every breath call one’s self a sin-
ner and a miserable wretch ;° and if offended but by a trifling word,
suddenly to lift one’s brow, throw back the neck, and change those
submissive tones into a frantic shout. A different sort of humility is
that which Christ teaches, who exhorts us (Matth. 11: 29) to follow
1 Written in the year 415, when he was in
‘Palestine, and with reference to the contro-
versies which were then going on, although
they are not here expressly mentioned.
2 866 e.g. p. 67, ed. Semler. Nos (proh
pudor) quadam dilectione peccati, cum in
quibusdam ostendimus quandam vim natu-
re nostre, in aliis omnino torpescimus. p.
69. That abstinentia and jejunium were,
with many, nothing else than umbracula
vitiorum. On p. 74 he says respecting hu-
mility: Preecipue tamen, fictam humilitatem
fugiens, illam sectare que vera est, quam
Christus docuit humilitatem, in qua non sit
superbia inclusa.
8 Perfacile est enim, aliquam vestem ha-
bere contemptam, salutare submissius, incli-
nato in terram capite oculisque dejectis,
humilitatem ac mansuetudinem polliceri,
lenta ‘voce tenuique sermones infringere,
suspirare crebrius, et ad omne verbum pec-
catorem et miserum se clamare.
+Et si vel levi sermone offensus sit, con-
tinuo attollere supercilium, levare cervicem,
et delicatum illum oris sonum insano re-
pente clamore mutare.
HIS DOCTRINAL TENDENCIES. 575
‘his example — that pattern of true humility, under which, as he tells
us, no pride lies concealed.” 1
And now if the sense of sinfulness, which is an essential element of
the Christian consciousness, frequently offered itself to him under this
hypocritical form and in this lying caricature, it is easy to understand
how he might be misled, by his disgust at it, to overlook the profound
truth which also lay at the bottom.
But still Pelagius was not free from the errors of the monkish mor-
ality, by which the system of morals was divorced from its intimate
connection with the system of faith. He was entrammeled in the no-
tion, which was so common among the monks, beg connected with
their vague and obscure notions respecting the moral law, that man can
advance still farther in Christian perfection than the law requires, by
practising the consilia evangelica (so called) —the quantitative meth- ~
od of estimating moral worth.? Neglecting to consider that the Chris-
tian principle embraces the whole alike, and leaves room for nothmg
else to be admitted as a determining principle, he distinguished what
was commanded from what was forbidden, what was permitted from
what was recommended as an object of higher perfection — which
latter consisted precisely in abstaining from what was permitted, and
so entitling one’s self toa higher reward. Starting from this position,
he, too, became a zealous opponent of Jovinian, defending against him
the doctrine that there are different grades of merit and of Christian
perfection,! on the ground of the distinction between precepts and
counsels (praecepta and consilia.) He controverted the position mam-
tained by Jovinian, that there is but one way of renouncing the world,
which is the common duty of all Christians— but one precept in rela-
tion to the giving-up of temporal things for the sake of the kmgdom
of God, which, circumstances allowing, was the duty of all alike.®
Ardently zealous for what he considered to be the peculiar essence of
Christianity in ethics, the ‘ precepts” and ‘counsels,’ he was led to
recommend in a particular manner the study of the Bible, pointing to
it as the only source from which it is possible to learn perfectly the will
of God.* But though he examined with the strictest conscientiousness
1Precipue fictam humilitatem fugiens,
illam sectare, quze vera est, in qua non sit
superbia inclusa.
*See ep. ad Demetriad. c.9. Supra le-
gem facere, amore perfectionis supra man-
data conscendere.
®Prohiberi quedam, precipi quedam,
concedi aliqua, nonnulla suaderi. Prohi-
bentur mala, preecipiuntur bona, concedun-
tur media, perfecta suadentur. And re-
specting the two latter points: Duo vero
reliqua, quorum unum conceditur et suade-
tur aliud, in nostra potestate dimissa sunt,
ut aut cum minori gloria concessis utamur,
aut ob majus premium etiam ea que nobis
permissa sunt, respuamus. Cap. 9.
* On 2 Corinth. 9: 6, Contra Jovinianum
etiam hic locus facit, ubi meritoram gradus
esse monstrantur; and on Philipp. 3: 18,
19. Potest et de Joviniani studiis accipi, qui
jejuniorum. afilictiones et omnem. corporis
cruciatum in luxuriam et epulas converterit.
5On 1 Corinth. 13: 8. Quod illoram
sententiam destruit, qui renuntiandum re-
bus seculi certo tempore, persecutione co-
gente, volunt esse praeceptum, ut et apostolis
gloriam tollant, quod non. voluntarie fece-
rint, sed inviti, et nostri avi perfectos vanos
constituant, qui rem alterius temporis frustra
nunc voluerunt exercere. Item aliter: No-
tandum quod contemptus mundi martyrio
comparetur, contra eos, qui illud de evangelio
Variis argumentis nituntur exsolyere, ubi
dicitur ad divitem: Vade, vende omnia quee
habes et, da pauperibus.
6 Thus he writes to Demetrias: In serip-
turis divinis, per quas solas ΤΩΝ plenam
Dei intelligere voluntatem. Cap. 9
516 PELAGIUS.
every individual passage in the New Testament relating to morals;
though he recommended the exact and literal observance of all Christ’s
commands, and inveighed against the allegorizmg shifts by which it
was attempted to bring the words of Christ into a forced accommoda-
tion with the ruling manners of the world ;? yet he could not penetrate
below the surface into the more profound depths of the Christian sys-
tem of ethics, into its peculiar essence, its internal connection and
unity ; because he seized the parts in too imsulated a manner, without
grasping the whole new principle for shapmg the world and human
life, which lies in Christianity. He failed of seeing the connection be-
tween faith and life as it is presented in the New Testament. Hence,
there was this difference betwixt Augustin and Pelagius, that while the
one could rightly understand, in the sermon on the mount, every single
precept in its unity with the whole, according to the spirit of it, and
found therein no separate, positive commands;? Pelagius, on the other
hand, everywhere held fast to the letter of the individual precepts, and
so took in its literal sense the prohibition of the oath.®
In order to explain the peculiar doctrinal tendency of Pelagius, we
must take particular notice also of the opposite tendencies against
which he contended. ‘This is the more necessary in his case, inasmuch
as he was not led by any creative, speculative, or dogmatizing spirit of
his own to form a new system; but his efforts were determined and
‘shaped by a present, practical interest, to guard against certain errors
which seemed to him injurious to morality. Thus he was led to elabo-
rate his peculiar scheme of doctrine. He contended against the doc-
trinal tendencies of his time, only so far as certain practical consequen-
ces of a hurtful kind seemed to him necessarily to flow from them: by
this he was induced to enter upon his doctrinal investigations and dis-
tinctions ; and, in mainly following this practical interest, he did not even
go so far as to unfold in their whole extent, and to trace to their ulti-
mate grounds, the principles lying at the root of his doctrinal tenets.
Next, by virtue of his truly earnest moral zeal, he was led to regard it
as specially incumbent on him to combat the worldly Christianity of his
times. We everywhere see in him a man filled with pain and indig-
ination at the moral depravation of the great masses of nominal Chris-
tians in his day. Thus, in his remarks on 2 Corinth. 12: 20, he ex-
claims: ‘* What would the apostle do, if he happened on our times,
when, in comparison with other vices, such things are not considered to
be sins at all?’”’* He sought to remove the grounds of excuse which
served as props of their immorality to those who called themselves
‘. Christians, without considering themselves bound to pursue a Christian
course of conduct. Among these belonged that distinction of spiritu-
al and secular, respecting the injurious influence of which we have
10 η 2 Corinth. 3:6. Si precepta velis metriad. c.19; Hilar. ad Augustin. ep. 156.
allegorice intelligere, omnem virtutem eo- 4 Quid faceret, si nostris temporibus adin-
rum evacuans, omnibus aperuisti viam de- veniret, quibus ad comparationem aliorum
linquendi. criminum ista ne putantur quidem esse pec-
2 See above, vol. 11. Ὁ. 194. cata!
8 Christus jussit non jurare. Ep. ad De-
HIS DOCTRINAL TENDENCIES. 5TT
already spoken ; though in one sense Pelagius himself supported it by
his doctrine of a perfection transcending ordinary Christianity. In
combating this distinction, when employed as an excuse for immorality
by those who were engaged in the business of the world, he says, in
expounding Ephesians 4: 4, 5: ‘It would be well for those persons
* to study what is here said, who, tied to the business of the world, sup-
pose they may be allowed to sin, though others may not; when the
truth is, all are baptized into the same body, have received the same
spirit, and are called to the same hope.” ! He felt constrained to dis-
sent from such as seemed to imagine that by a mere outward participa-
tion in the sacraments they were already sure of salvation, as well as
from those who reposed on the opus operatum of faith — that outward
and superficial notion of faith, which, as we have seen, was already so
widely spread in the church. So in remarking on 1 Cor. 10: 1, he
says, that no one might so rely on the fact of his having been baptized,
or haying partaken of the Holy Supper, as to imagine that God would
indulge him in committing sin, the apostle brings forward this example
from the fathers, to show by it that these rites will indeed then be truly
profitable, when the commandments are obeyed. And the words in
Ephes. 5: 5, 6, he applies to those who imagined faith alone to be
sufficient ; that he who possessed faith and had been baptized could
not perish, however he might sin.2 Next, as there were those who
comforted themselves in their vicious life with the doctrine of a purga-
tory, flattering themselves that, in virtue of their orthodox creed, they
would finally, at least, be saved, after having passed through that
painful process of purification after death, Pelagius, in explaining
1 Corinth. 3: 13, a passage often referred to in proof of this doctrine,
sought to deprive, them of this support, by demonstrating the ground-
lessness of that exposition, and proving that, even in this passage, the
fire of hell is meant, which the vicious should not escape. And hence
he deemed it so important to maintain the eternity of punishments, in
opposition to those who explained all such declarations of scripture as
being nothing more than intimidating threats against sin.® Further-
more, as these persons excused themselves by pleading the corruption
and weakness of human nature, and affirmed that living up to the di-
vine commands was something too difficult for feeble man, Pelagius, to
deprive them of these supports of moral indolence, endeavored to show
1Unde diligentius legere debent hunc
locum hi qui, in seculi occupationibus ligati,
putant sibi licere peccare et aliis non licere,
cum omnes in unum corpus baptizati, eun-
dem spiritum acceperint, et in una spe vo-
cati sunt Dei.
2Ne quis confidens in eo solum, quod
baptizatus-est, aut in escaspirituali vel potu,
putet sibi Deum parcere si peccaverit, tale
patrum proponit exemplum, quo ostendat,
tunc ista merito profutura, si preecepta ser-
ventur.
8 Contra illos agit, qui solam fidem dicunt
sufficere. “Nemo vos seducat” dicendo;
hoc solummodo opus est, ut fides sit et
VOL. Il.
homo Christi baptisma consequatur, quam-
vis peccet, perire non potest. Comp. what
he says on 1 Corinth. 6: 9.
Non hic, ut quidam putant, in igne
flamme arsura sunt opera, sed homines, qui
ita operati sunt ut mereantur incendio depu-
tari. Si autem opera, id est, crimina, puni-
entur, salvo eo qui perpetraverat, non erit
ei damnum, sed lucrum.
5 On 2 Corinth. 11: 8. Jam nunc serpens
similiter quosdam seducit, gehennam prop-
ter solum terrorem asserentes nominari,
quam aut penitus non esse aut xternam
non esse affirmant, contra auctoritatem om-
nium scripturarum.
578 PELAGIUS.
that they unjustly loaded human nature with charges which fell back
on the Creator himself, instead of laying the fault, as they should do,
on their own will. The divine commands, he maintained, the com-
mands of Christ, certainly required an exact fulfilment, as in fact they
were, in spite of their contrary assertions, taught by the example of
those who had fulfilled them, while still they partook of the same hu-
man nature with themselves.
By these oppositions and these practical imterests, then, the ten-
dency of Pelagius, in respect to the doctrine of man’s nature and the
character and work of Christ, was modified and determined. Hence
“he was of the opinion, that in all moral exhortations the great point to
be aimed at was, to make men clearly see that they were in want of
none of the faculties necessary for fulfilling the divine commands ; to
bring them to a conscious sense of the power bestowed on them by the
Creator for accomplishing all good ends, as he says that he himself
was accustomed to pursue this method in his exhortatory writings.?
Hence he appealed to the examples of virtue exhibited among the Pa-
gans, in proof of how much nature, left to itself, could effect even
among the heathen; and argued that, with the new aids and advantages
possessed by Christians, the same nature would be able to do still more.
On this principle, and from this point of view, he denied that there
was any such thing as a corruption of human nature, which had grown
out of the fall. Such a doctrine appeared to him but a means of en-
couraging moral indolence — a means of excuse supplied to the hands
of vicious men. ‘The question which from the first had so occupied
the profound mind of Augustin—the question concerning the origin
of sin in man— could not be attended with so much difficulty to the
more superficial mind of Pelagius. This was no enigma for him; it
seemed to him a thing perfectly natural that there should be moral
evil. The necessary condition to the existence of moral good is the
possibility of evil. Evil and good are to be derived alike from the
free-will, which either yields to the seductions of sense, or overcomes
them.
With these views of man’s nature, Pelagius unquestionably still held
fast to all the tenets taught in the Western church respecting the char-
‘acter and work of Christ.
But although this was by no means a mere
hypocritical accommodation — though he was not conscious in this case
of any selfcontradiction, yet everything must necessarily have been so
modified as to tally with his peculiar views of human nature. Augustin,
», as well as Pelagius, contended against those who represented a mere out-
- ward faith to be all that was necessary to secure salvation; but Augus-
1Jn the letter to Demetrias: Dicimus:
durum est, arduum est, non possumus, hom-
ines sumys, fragili carne circumdati— ec. 3:
Improbissimi hominum dum dissimulant,
id ipsum bene administrare, quod facti sunt,
aliter se factos fuisse malunt, ut qui vitam
suam emendare nolunt, videantur emendare
velle naturam. And on Coloss. 1: 22:
Vide si sciebat, se impossibilia preecepisse.
2 Thus in his letter to Demetrias, c. 2, he
says: Quem ego exhortationis ordinem,
cum in aliis quoque opusculis tenuerim,
tune hic maxime observandum puto, ubi eo
plenins nature bonum declarari debet, quo
instituenda est vita perfectior, ne tanto re-
missior sit ad virtutem animus ac tardior,
quanto minus se posse credat, et dum quod
pee? sibi ignorat, id se existimat non ha-
ere.
᾿
C@LESTIUS. 579
. tin and Pelagius differed from each other in their mode of attacking
this error. Augustin opposed to this notion of faith, another and dif-
ferent one: Pelagius sought to show that there must be, in addition to
faith, the fulfilment of the divine commands. Augustin described an
active life of good works, as something which flowed of itself from the
“essence of genuine faith:! Pelagius required it as something which
must be added to faith, by employing those moral faculties which had
been bestowed on human nature, and which was still further strength-
ened and enlarged by Christianity. And, in addition to this, Pelagius,
who regarded it as a thing of the utmost importance to point men to
the free-will by which they were able to do all things, was the more
provoked to opposition, by the form under which the unfolded doctrine
of Augustin concerning grace and predetermination, which was really
revolting to the free-will, presented itself to his notice. But with the
dogmatic prejudices and partial interest in behalf of the doctrine of
free-will which he possessed, any form wherein the Christian conscious-
ness expressed itself, with sincerity and fulness, as indebted for all
things to the divine grace, would easily appear offensive, as detracting
from the freedom of the will. Hence the great offence he took when
he heard a bishop utter, as expressing his own feelings, the words of
the prayer in Augustin’s confessions: 2 ‘“‘ My God, bestow on me what
thou commandest, and command what thou wilt.’’®
At Rome, Pelagius composed his commentaries on the epistles of
Paul, in which he clearly manifests his peculiar doctrinal tendency ;
and among these, his commentary on the epistle to the Romans espec-
ially, although Cassiodorus sought to expurgate it, still betrays the
Pelagian doctrine concerning man, which continually gleams through
the surface. At that time, however, the matter made no farther stir.)
The public outbreak of the controversy proceeded from another de-
fender of the same doctrine.
This was Celestius, with whom Pelagius first became acquainted while
the former was an advocate at Rome. Through the influence, proba-
bly, of Pelagius, this person became zealously resolved to live a more
earnest and devoted Christian life in a strict observance of all the pre-
cepts and counsels of Christ. He exchanged his profession as an adyvo-
cate for the monastic life, and composed an exhortatory Christian
treatise, in the form of three letters addressed to his parents, in which
he probably explained the reasons which had induced him to change his
plans of life. It would appear, then, that he followed the whole pecu-
liar practico-dogmatical tendency of the individual who had been
the means of awakening him to a more serious Christian life ; and he
sought to turn the skill in dialectics which he had acquired as an δᾶνο-
cate, to the purpose of defending his scheme of doctrine.t Pelagius,
1As for example in his work de fide et individual, nothing certain can be said.
operibus, which is aimed against the above- That he was a native of Ireland or Scotland
mentioned error. See vol. II. p. 101. has been inferred, on no very safe grounds,
2 Confess. 1. X. ο. 29. from an enigmatical passage of Jerome, in
8Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis. the preface to the III. book of his commen-
* Respecting the native country of this tary on Jeremiah. Marius Mercator says
580 PELAGIUS AND CCELESTIUS AT CARTHAGE —
owing to his peculiar temperament and advanced age, was little inclined
to controversy, where he was not drawn into it by the interest he felt
in behalf of his practical principles. He willingly made concessions,
even against his own convictions, where those principles which alone
seemed important to him, seemed not to be endangered. But Ceelesti-
us, who was in the full vigor of manhood, and formed as an advocate
for polemical controversy, stood forth more openly and recklessly in
defense of the doctrinal principles connected with that practical system.1
In the year 411, Pelagius and Coelestius went in company to Car-
thage, where the former, indeed, made but a short stay ; but Coelestius
tarried longer. His ascetic zeal and his gifts procured for him friends,
and he was encouraged to propose himself as a candidate for the office
of presbyter in this church ; but meanwhile various reports had fol-
lowed him concerning his Pelagian errors, which here, where the oppo-
site tendency of the dogmatic spirit chiefly prevailed, and where the
mind of Augustin had the most decided influence, could not do other-
_wise than injure him.? The deacon Paulinus, of Milan, stood forth as
his accuser, before a synod assembled at Carthage, A.D. 412. Six
heretical propositions were asserted to be held by Ccelestius, which col-
lectively were derived from the following: ‘That the sin of Adam had
injured only himself, not the whole human family ; whence was drawn
the conclusion, that children still came into the world in the same state
in which Adam found himself before the fall. From these two propo-
sitions others were deduced, none of which probably had ever been
of him, in his commonitorium adversus
heresin Pelagii et Ccelestii: Pelagio ad-
heesit Ceelestius, nobilis natu quidem, et illius
temporis auditorialis scholasticus. Au-
gustin says, de gestis Pelagii, § 61, that these
erroneous doctrines had not originated with
the clergy, but with quibusdam veluti mon-
achis. He meant here, probably, Ceelestius
along with Pelagius. Le styled them not
regular monks, doubtless because they lived
rather after the older and freer manner of
the ascetics, than according to the more
recent order of the Ccenobites. With all
this is to be compared what Gennadius says,
in his work de viris illustribus, ο. 44, that
Ceelestius, when a young man, before he
fell into the Pelagian doctrines, wrote those
three letters mentioned in the text, which
Gennadius highly applauds, making the
remark, important for us: Moralis siquidem
in eis dictio nil vitii postmodum proditi;
sed totum ad virtutis incitamentum tenuit.
The tendency of which he speaks in this
last clause, might very well be also a Pela-
gian one; but Gennadius, himself a semi-
Pelagian, had not the sagacity to discern
this Pelagian element lying at the root of
the practical tendency, but not so clearly
expressed. Hence he supposed Ccelestius
must have composed this treatise when a
oung man, and before he went over to
elagianism. Whether the statement, that
he wrote these letters from a cloister, is cor-
rect, may also remain a question.
1 Augustinus, de peccato originali, ὁ 13,
calls Ccelestius apertior, Pelagius occultior.
Whether the account given by Pradestina-
tus is correct, (p. 88,) that Ccelestius had
also written a work against the doctrine of
the traduction of souls, before Pelagius ap-
peared openly as a polemic, is questionable.
2 Pelagius, who did not find Augustin at
home at Hippo, had written him a very
respectful letter. Augustin answered him
in a few friendly lines, which at bottom,
however, might already intimate some sus-
picion about the doctrine of Pelagius con-
cerning grace, as Augustin afterwards (de
gestis Pelagii, ec. 26) actually explained the
words, but putting into them more, perhaps,
then, than they really meant. At all events,
there was ἃ very delicate allusion to the
importance of the right doctrine concerning
grace. He wrote to him, for example: Re-
tribuat tibi Dominus bona, guibus semper
sis bonus — ores pro me, quo talis a Domi-
no fiam, qualem me jam esse arbitraris. Ep.
146. But without doubt, Augustin, who, on
account of the peculiar tone of his mind,
was habituated to such forms of expression,
might thus express himself, without having
in his mind any particular allusion to the
views of Pelagius.
PELAGIUS IN PALESTINE. JEROME AND OROSIUS. 581
‘asserted by Ccelestius in the form alleged, while several of them were
ascribed to him only by inference. He sought to turn off the whole
matter by maintaining that the dispute related to a merely speculative
question, and had nothing to do with the essential doctrines of faith.
He said the only point in dispute here related in fact to the question
” concerning the propagation of a sinful nature ;4 which question, how-
ever, was closely connected with the more general one concerning the
way in which souls are propagated. As on the last of these questions,
so also on the first, various opinions had been held in the church. On
these points, nothing had been decided by the church system of doc-
trine. On account of his own particular views, then, on such a dispu-
ted matter, no one could be regarded as a teacher of false doctrine.”
Had he denied the necessity of infant baptism, (now universally ac-
knowledged to be an apostolical tradition,) that charge might seriously
affect him. But, in truth, he also affirmed the necessity of this rite,
although he entered into no farther explanation of the grounds of its
necessity. With these evasive answers, however, men were in nowise
satisfied ; and as he could not be induced to condemn the opinions which
he was accused of maintaining, he was excluded from the fellowship of_
the church.? :
But more favorable for the cause of Pelagius were the circumstances
under which the controversy was renewed in another country. Pela-
gius, in the year 415, made a journey to Palestine, and in this way the
controversy was spread to that part of the world; for Jerome was then
living at Bethlehem, and he maintained a close correspondence with the
Western church, and was moreover a man whose interest in theological
polemics could easily be set in movement. He agreed with Augustin
in opposing the Pelagian doctrine concerning the free-will, and con-
cerning the freedom from corruption of human nature ; and, owing to
the connection in which this controversy seemed to him to stand with
another, which at an earlier period had passionately interested him, he
was led to attach to it much the greater weight. We refer to its con-
nection with the Origenistic disputes. Jerome was inclined to trace
the Pelagian doctrine concerning free-will and the moral powers of
man’s nature, to the influence of Origen and of Rufinus, whom he now
so thoroughly hated, and to look upon Pelagius as a disciple of Rufinus.
In addition to this, it happened that Jerome, who was so sensitive to all
personal attacks, and so slow to forget them, was told that Pelagius
had, on various points, attacked his commentary on the epistle to the
Ephesians and his letter against Jovinian ;* and for these reasons he
was already much excited against him. A young Spanish ecclesiastic,
Paulus Orosius, was then on a visit to Jerome at Bethlehem. ‘This
person was a disciple and an enthusiastic and servile follower of Au-
gustin. His professed object was to prosecute his studies under the
1 De traduce peccati. ᾿ 4 See vol. IT. p. 269 ff.
2 Questionis res ἰδία, non heeresis. 5 See his bitter taunts against Pelagius,
8 See Marius Mercator, commonitorium whose person he describes, without naming
super nomine Ceelestii. Augustin. de pec- him, in the preface to his commentary on
cato originis, c. IL. Jeremiah.
VOL. II. 49*
ὅ82 PELAGIUS. SYNOD OF JERUSALEM.
direction of Jerome ; and he gave the latter a more distinct account of
this recent controversy, and proposed to him many questions relative
to the whole matter in dispute. Jerome came out as a writer against
Ὁ Pelagius, in the first place, without mentioning his name. But Pela-
gius without difficulty found many friends in the Oriental church, to
which he stood in a very different relation, as it concerned his system
“of faith, from that which he held to the church of the West.2 To such
nice distinctions on the relation of free-will to grace, the members of
the Oriental church were, in fact, as a general thing, not accustomed.
Moreover, it had in nowise occurred to any one there, to give such
prominence to the antithesis between grace and free-will, as has been
done in the Western church. Many of the assertions of Augustin
would in this church have given great offence. The less men were ac-
quainted here with the disputed questions of the Western church, and
the less interest they felt in them, the more easily could they be made
easy by the general declarations of Pelagius; and the latter was, be-
sides, much more at home in the Oriental system of doctrine, than were
his opponents.
When, in the year 415, Paul Orosius appeared before a synod as-
sembled under the presidency of the bishop John, (who had long been
suspected by the friends of Jerome,) and composed of presbyters con-
nected with his church, he supposed he should easily be able to supplant
the monk and layman, by means of the authority of the great bishop
whose mind ruled the North-African church.? But the worthy bishop
John, of Jerusalem, who had already distinguished himself by many
conflicts with blind zealots, was not disposed to lend his hand to any
such measures of oppression. When it was objected to Pelagius, that
he taught doctrines controverted by Augustin, the former, who would
do homage to no human authority, replied, as he might safely do in the
Oriental church, where Augustin’s name hardly stood at this time in so
high authority as in the church of the West— “‘ And what matter is it
to me what Augustin says?” * ‘This remark was sufficient to stir up
the indignation of Augustin’s enthusiastic friends. They exclaimed
that he who ventured to calumniate the bishop to whom the whole
North-African church owed its restoration,® deserved to be excluded
not only from that assembly, but from the fellowship of the whole
church. But, without paying any attention to this outcry, the bishop
John rather took the part of the man who was to be put down by dog-
matic assertions. Dispensing with all hierarchical prejudices, he allowed
him, though but a monk and layman, to take his seat among the pres-
ate report of Orosius himself, yet the latter
is so confused as to testify against himself.
4 Et quis est mihi Augustinus? Per-
1Jn his letter to Ctesiphon, and in his
dialogues.
2This Jerome himself intimates, in his
letter to Ctesiphon, where he speaks of the
question brought into discussion by Pela-
gius: Que ante literas tuas plerosque in
Oriente decepit, ut per s¢mulatam humilita-
tem superbiam discerent.
3 Although we become acquainted with
these proceedings only through the passion-
haps, however, Pelagius may not have orig-
inally expressed the answer in precisely the
form in which the hostile and embittered
Orosius here repeats it.
5 Doubtless referring to his efforts in
healing the schism of the Donatists. j
SYNOD AT DIOSPOLIS. 583
byters; a proceeding for which he is highly censured by Orosius, who
complains that he should permit a person accused of manifest heresy
— though to be sure that person had never as yet been heard before
any ecclesiastical body — to sit among Catholics; a layman, to sit
among presbyters.! he bishop John said, he would now like to be
Augustin, that he might pardon Pelagius in Augustin’s name.
Pelagius was accused of maintaining, that man is without sin, and
can easily obey the divine commands if he pleases. As the bishop
John, like the Orientals generally, had no very strict or profound con-
ception of what constitutes the fulfilment of the law, he believed exam-
ples could be found in the sacred scriptures, of a perfect fulfilment of
the law.? All that appeared to him as false was the assertion, that it
was possible for any man to accomplish this without the divine assist-
ance. But when Pelagius acknowledged the divine assistance to be
necessary here, the bishop was perfectly satisfied. It was quite
foreign from him to propose to the former such questions as would
have been proposed to him in the Western church, with a view to draw
from him an explanation of what he understood by the divine assist-
ance. He was satisfied with the explanation expressed in those general
terms ; and any one who, after this, was still bent on detecting heresy
in the doctrine of Pelagius, seemed to him to detract himself from the
power of divine grace. Finally, the accusers of Pelagius repeatedly
affirmed, that both the parties belonged to the Latin church; and
hence the question was one which only in the Latin church could
be rightly understood. ‘The bishop John conceded this, and agreed
that the subject should be referred to the Roman bishop Innocent,
and meanwhile both parties should cease all further attacks on each
other.
This attack on Pelagius having issued in a manner so little favorable
to their views, the hostile party, consisting for the most part of ecclesi-
astics from the West, who probably held their consultations at Bethle
hem,? determined to renew the assault before another bishop, and a
still more numerous assembly. In the same year, the two deposed
Western bishops, Heros of Arles, and Lazarus of Aix, (Aque,)
appeared as the accusers of Pelagius, before a synod assembled at
Diospolis in Palestine, under the presidency of Kulogius, bishop of
Czsarea. The propositions laid to his charge on this occasion were
1 The words of Orosius are: Videlicet
laicum in consessu presbyterorum, reum
hzreseos manifestz in medio Catholicorum,
sedere precepit.
2 He appealed to what had been said of
Zechariah and of Elizabeth, Luke 1; to
God’s command given to Abraham that he
should walk before him, and be perfect;
which presupposed the possibility of the
thing required.
3 A significant hint on this point is con-
tained in a letter of Pelagius to a presbyter
who was his friend, written after the conclu-
sion of the second council, and giving an
account of the decision of this assembly:
Que sententia omnem in malum conspi-
rantem societatem ab invicem separavit.
Augustin. de gestis Pelagii, ὁ 54. And, in
fact, Heros and Lazarus did actually return
to the West. He might, then, have had
good grounds for considering all these un-
dertakings as the concerted plan of a party,
which had associated for the purpose of
bringing about his condemnation in the
Oriental church. Yet if the whole thing
had in this case been previously concocted,
the points of complaint would, in all proba-
bility, not have been so unskilfully arranged.
-
584 PELAGIUS. HIS EXPLANATIONS.
partly statements in which, as they expressed it, the heretical element
could not be easily detected, and on which, by means of superadded
explanations, Pelagius might easily come to an understanding with his
judges.1_ The members of this council were also disposed to ask no
further questions, provided only that grace and free-will were both
equally maintained ; and accordingly Pelagius found it not difficult to
satisfy his judges. He was charged with holding the doctrine, “ that
man, if he pleases, can be perfectly free from sin ; that there was such
a thing as perfect purity from sin among mankind.” This he explained
by saying, that he who is converted from sin may live without sin by
his own efforts and God’s grace; but that he is not, for this reason,
placed also beyond the reach of all temptations. Understood with these
limitations, the synod were likewise all of the same opinion. It was
now required of him, that he should pronounce sentence of condemna-
tion against all who taught the contrary. He consented ; yet on the
singular condition, that he might condemn them as fools, not as here-
tics.2, Furthermore, some of the propositions which had come from
Ceelestius were read to him ; but for these, he maintained that he was
not to be held accountable, since they were none of his.
1 Thus it was objected to bim that he had
asserted:™ In die judicii iniquis et pecca-
toribus non esse parcendum; sed eternis
eos ignibus esse exurendos.” It is most
probable — which is also confirmed by Au-
gustin’s remark on this passage in his book”
de gestis Pelagii, —that Pelagius had com-
bated those who held out the promise of
final salvation to a dead church-faith, not
connected with a change of heart, but sub-
sisting along with a vicious life, at least
after suffering disciplinary punishment in
the ignis purgatorius. See above, p. 577.
His sincere zeal for morality may perhaps
have moved him to deny altogether the
doctrine of such an ignis purgatorius.
When this proposition was brought before
him, he appealed in defense of his assertion
to the word of Christ himself, Matth. 25: 46 ;
and whoever believed otherwise, he added,
was an Origenist. With this the synod was
satistied ; for the Origenistic doctrine con-
cerning the ἀποκατάστασις had always had,
though not all, yet the majority of the
most influential voices in the church against
it. But had Pelagius unfolded his views
more fully, and also represented the doc-
trine of that purgatorial fire as an Orige-
nistic heresy, the members of the council
would perhaps not have been so easily satis-
fied. Another assertion was: Qnuoniam
plus facimus quam in lege et evangelio jus-
sum est, in conformity with the doctrine of
the consilia evangelica, which was so inti-
mately connected with the monastic system
of morals, and in which Pelagius (see above,
Ρ. 577) might certainly find some support
for his system. Pelagius cites in defence
of this proposition the remark of Paul, 1 Cor.
7: 25, in recommendation, as it was gene-
He was even
rally supposed, of celibacy. Furthermore,
the proposition: “The kingdom of heaven
is promised even in the Old Testament.”
In this proposition, the sense corresponding
to the orthodox faith admits, of course, of
being more easily found than the heretical.
The heretical sense, it may be conjectured,
lay in the assertion, that men could obtain
salvation by observance of the law; that
there was a justitia legis. See below.
2 Anathematizo tanquam stultos, non tan-
quam heereticos. It is evident that the
synod here proceeded in a very superficial
way, with little regard for rigid and precise
dogmatic notions. It is not clear, indeed,
what it was that Pelagius really condemned.
If he meant to condemn those who taught
that there were sinless men, the purport of
his declaration may have been, that the
question did not relate to a doctrine, but to
afact. A false doctrine —he must have
meant, in this case, to say—could only
arise when it was asserted that such persons
had so lived without grace. Otherwise, to
atlirm, as a matter of fact, this which was
contrary to experience, ought not to be
called false doctrine, but foolishness. But
if we suppose this, Pelagius could not be
exonerated from the charge of surrendering
his own convictions, or of contradicting
himself. Or perhaps he meant to condemn
those who taught that men could lead sinless
lives without the help of divine grace. But
when we consider what a broad conception
Pelagius connected with the term grace, it
may easily be explained that he meant to
say: Those who declared grace could be
dispensed with in order to a sinless life,
deserved to be styled fools and madmen for
teaching a doctrine so perfectly absurd.
SYNOD AT DIOSPOLIS. 585
ready to condemn them, although it would seem as if he could not do
it, without also condemning many of his own doctrines. But perhaps
the matter was made easy to him, by hastily reading over the proposi-
tions, and forbearing to enter into any minute inquiries.! As the result
_ of the whole business, Pelagius was recognized as a member of the
Catholic church. From the relation of Pelagius to the Oriental church,
we may infer that he found many friends there, especially among the
monks ; and this passionate class of men may have resorted to many
measures in support of the party of Pelagius, of which the latter him-
self wholly disapproved. Moreover, Jerome, by his passionate and
overbearing temper,? by his reproachful abuse of the bishops of this
country, may have rendered himself hateful to many, who now sought
to take their revenge on him. But whatever the truth may be with
regard to those violent proceedings said to have taken place im the
cloisters at Bethlehem after the triumph obtained by Pelagius at the
council of Diospolis, yet certainly the accounts of them, all of which
may in the end be traced to the testimony of Jerome, which deserves
but little confidence in matters so nearly concerning himself and his
personal enemies,? are not sufficiently distinct and well authenticated,
to enable us correctly to judge to what extent Jerome was to blame in
this affair, and whether any party of Pelagius had a hand in it, and, if
so, what they did. One thing we may confidently assert, that it was
quite foreign from the disposition of the latter to intermeddle with such
business. Had it been possible really to bring any such accusation
against him, his enemies assuredly would not have long delayed to pro-
duce the more definite testimony which the Roman bishop Innocent
demanded. | ᾿
The verdicts of these two councils were now made the most of by\
the party of Pelagius, to justify their own orthodoxy. Their opponents,
it is true, did not allow themselves to falter at these decisions ; yet they
took different measures according to their different turns of mind. The
violent Jerome did not hesitate to fix a suspicion of Pelagian heresy
on the synod itself Augustin, on the other hand, endeavored to show,
in his work de gestis Pelagii, that the synod had only suffered itself to
be deceived by the ambiguous explanations of Pelagius, but that, by
the anathemas which it prescribed to him, it had in reality condemned
his peculiar doctrines. Here, we must admit, he went on the erroneous
supposition, that as Christian truth is but one, and the doctrine of the
church but one, therefore the doctrine of grace held by this synod
must have been the same with that of the whole Oriental church.
1 ΤῸ is very possible that, as Augustin
remarks, (de gestis Pelagii, § 57,) in a brief
transcript of those proceedings, hé may, not
without good reasons, have left out the ex-
press condemnation of those propositions
of Ceelestius.
2 Palladius, who to be sure belonged to a
party hostilely disposed to Jerome, repre-
sents another as saying of him (hist. lausi-
aca, 6, 78): Τοσαύτην ἔσχεν βασκανίαν, ὡς
ὑπὸ ταυτῆς καλύπτεσϑαι τῶν λόγων τὴν
ἀρετὴν: χάριν δὲ τουτοῦ τοῦ ἀνδρὸς οὐ μὴ
ἅγιος ἀνὴρ εἰς τοὺς τόπους οἰκήσει, ἄλλα
φϑάσει αὐτοῦ ὁ φϑόνος καὶ μέχρι τοῦ ἰδιοῦ
ἀδελφοῦ.
3 See the conclusion in Augustin’s book
de gestis Pelagii, and three letters of the
Roman bishop Innocent. ,
4 He styles it (ep. 81) synodus miserab
ilis.
586 BOTH PARTIES APPEAL TO ROME.
As acounterpoise to the authority of these Oriental church assemblies,
it was sought, moreover, to gain the acquiescence of the Roman bishop
Innocent. Three letters were therefore addressed to him from the
North-African church, in the year 416;—one from a synod held at
Carthage ; the second, from one held at Mileve in Numidia ; the third,
from five North-African bishops, of whom Augustin was one. In these
(letters, they accused Pelagius and Ccelestius of maintaining free-will
ina way that excluded grace, and of denying grace in the peculiar
Christian sense, since they did not place it in an inward actuation and
communication of the divine Spirit; but only understood thereby,
either the gifts and powers bestowed on man by creation, or the out-
ward revelation by the law, or the forgiveness of sm. They were also
accused of denying the necessity of baptism in order to the salvation
of infants. At the same time these bishops sent him a book of Pela-
gius, in which they had marked several passages, which he was
requested to notice.
In the mean time, Pelagius and Ceelestius also sought to justify them-
selves before the Roman bishop. Pelagius wrote him a letter, in which
he defended himself against both the charges ; namely, that he assert-
ed a free-will standing in no need of grace,! and that he denied the
necessity of baptism in order to the salvation of infants.2_ With
this letter, he sent a confession of faith, in which he fully unfolded his
orthodoxy on those points which had no connection with this contro-
versy. On the matters in dispute, he declared himself with less distine-
ness, and also indulged himself a good deal in special pleading, for the
purpose of setting the doctrine of his opponents in an unfavorable light ;
attacking, though without naming him, Jerome in particular, who, in-
deed, by his exaggerations in controversy, and his arguments, which
were often spun out and lost in mere play and sophistry, exposed many
a weak point to his adversaries.? Pelagius, on this occasion also,
1Jiberum sic confitemur arbitrium, ut T. IV. ed. Martianay. Again, Pelagius
dicamus, nos indigere Dei semper auxilio.
2 Respecting his doctrine concerning the
baptism of infants, see below. The frag-
ments of this letter may be found in Augus-
tin. de gratia Christi, c. 30, 32, et 33, and
de peccato originali, c. 17 et 21,
3 Pelagius says accordingly, he abhorred
the blasphemies of those who taught that
God had commanded men to do impossibil-
ities, and that God’s commands could not
. be fulfilled by individuals, but only by all,
colleotively and in common. This remark
is aimed against the doctrine held alike by
Augustin and Jerome, that human nature,
in its present state, is not able to fulfil the
divine law—especially in the form in
which it had been expressed by Jerome,
when he said, that as at present everything
good among men was in some respect or
otHer defective or partial, so they mutually
supplied each other's deficiencies by means
of the predominant virtues in individuals.
See Hieronym. |. I. adv, Pelag. f. 496-97,
said, we condemn those who affirm that the
Son of God was necessitated to utter what
was false by the power of the flesh; and
that, on account of his assumption of human
nature, he could not do all which he willed.
In one respect, so far as it regards the last
proposition, this charge was unjust. Je-
rome, for instance, had asserted — citing as
his authority the passages in Matth. 26: 39;
John 5: 30—that Jesus, in speaking as a
man, had not made himself independent of
God, nor ascribed to himself any self-suffi-
ciency grounded in human nature; while,
ou the contrary, the Pelagians would fain
claim for themselves an independence and
self-sufficiency, which Christ himself had
never thought of asserting. But the objec-
tion was just with reference to the first of
those propositions; for, citing the passage in
John 7: 10, which Porphyry had seized
upon as a ground for accusing Christ of
fickleness of purpose, he said in justification
of Christ: Omnia scandala ad carnem esse
INNOCENT CONDEMNS PELAGIANISM. 587
asserted a free-will constantly standing in need of the divine assistance ;
and he charged his opponents with maintaining partly the Manichean
doctrine, that certain men (those who do not participate of grace) can-
not avoid sin, partly the Jovinian, that certain men (the predestinate)
are by nature incapable of sin. He himself taught, on the contrary,
that man is always capable both of sinning and of not sinning.
The Roman bishop, Innocent, received those letters from the North-
_ African church, before the letter and confession of faith sent by Pelagius
could reach him. Innocent, as may be gathered from his letters, was,
on the doctrine concerning the relation of nature to grace, a decided
opponent of the Pelagian system: it would seem also, that he pene-
trated more deeply than others into the original grounds of this whole
matter of dispute.1 Still, it cannot be inferred, however, from any
declarations of his, that he entirely agreed in his system with Augustin.
On the contrary, an intimation is given, that, inasmuch as he held the
communications of divine grace to be dependent on the worth of indi-
viduals, he accordingly differed from Augustin in an important point.?
Yet, at all events, the heretical matter in the Pelagian doctrines first
attracted his notice; and of any difference between his own views and
those of the North Africans, he may, perhaps, not have been conscious.
Moreover, the North-African church had already conciliated his favor-”
able regard by appealing to his decision on such a matter of dispute.
After having bestowed praise, then, on the North-African bishops, be-
cause as in duty bound they had betaken themselves to the church of
Peter, to which all the great concerns of entire Christendom should be
ultimately referred, he assured them of his full acquiescence in their
condemnation of the Pelagian doctrines. .
But soon after, in the year 416, Innocent died; and his successor
Zosimus had already been invested with the episcopal dignity, when the
letter of Pelagius arrived at Rome. Zosimus, in all probability, had
not the same doctrinal system as his predecessor. Perhaps, as his
name might indicate, he was of Oriental descent ; and his dogmatic
tendency on the controverted pomts may have been akin to that of the
East ; all which seems, in fact, to be shown in his first letter on this
subject to the North-African church. Hence his sentence would turn
out to be a very different one from the former. Neither were there
wanting in Rome individuals who were friendly to the Pelagian doc-
trines, and who contributed to dispose his mind to look upon them with
referenda, which were either, like many of esses effecit? Et cui putas debere, quod
the sayings of. Jerome, sounding words
without any reasonable meaning, or must
have been intended to mean that the weak-
ness of the sensuous nature even in Christ
rendered it necessary to deviate from the
strict law of veracity. 10, c. f. 519, 20, 21.
1 He perceived (see below) that this dis-
pute was connected with a different way of
regarding the relation of God’s providence
to creation, §3. Epistola ad Concil. Car-
thag. Ergo eris tibi in providendo pres-
stantior, quam potest in eo esse, qui te ut
«
vivis, quomodo non putas illi debere quod
quotidianam ejus consequendo gratiam tali-
ter vivis ?
2 Innocent. ep. ad Concil. Carthag. § 7.
Of the Pelagians: Quis tantus illorum
pectora error obccecat, ut si ipsi nullam Dei
gratiam sentiunt, guia nec digni sunt nec
merentur. To be sure, Augustin would
have no difficulty in explaining this accord-
ing to his own sense, by simply supposing
the dignitas and the mereri to be qualities
depending on the communication of grace,
Ps
588 CELESTIUS AT ROME.
favor. While Innocent was living, such individuals would, of course,
keep their opinions to themselves.! At present, they could more openly
avow themselves.
Under these more favorable circumstances, Ccelestius himself ap-
peared in Rome. He handed over to the Roman bishop a confession
of faith, which was well suited doubtless to make a favorable impression
on one who was not aware of the more profound connection and coher-
ence of individual doctrines with the whole system of Christian faith,
and hence was in no condition to form a correct judgment concerning
the importance of the controverted points. He, too, first unfolded at
large the pure doctrines on matters which had no connection whatever
with the dispute, and then, as before, sought to reduce the disputed
matters to mere questions of speculative controversy, such as related to
the propagation of sin, which was connected with the question concern-
ing the origin of souls. ‘If some questions have been started which
do not concern the faith, and respecting which multitudes have differed,
it had never entered his thoughts to establish anything, as the founder
of a new doctrine; but he would very cheerfully allow himself to be
corrected, where he had erred as a man, by the judgment of the Ro-
man bishop.”? At the same time, he maintained anew, that the
acknowledgment of the necessity of infant baptism, which by the rule
of the universal church must be imparted for the forgiveness of sin,
was altogether independent of those questions, because our Lord had
resolved that the kingdom of heaven may be bestowed only on the
baptized; and because the powers of nature did not suffice for this, it
must be imparted by grace. But, by so dog, he meant in nowise to
approve the doctrine of a natural propagation of sm ; for sin, as it con-
sisted in a determination of the will, could not be derived from nature.’
The point of view in which Ccelestius placed this matter, certainly
appeared very clear in the outset to Zosimus ; for it seemed sufficient
to him that free-will and grace should be equally maintained, and all
the rest pertaining to the relation of these two to each other seemed to
him to belong among the idle questions of the schools. Ccelestius had
several audiences with the Roman bishop himself, and always explained
himself to the satisfaction of the latter. Add to this, that the two
“bishops, Heros and Lazarus, by whom the complaints had been brought
against Pelagius at the council of Diospolis, were well known to him as
turbulent, mischievous men; and accordingly the whole affair would
the more readily appear to him as a mere ebullition of passion, the less
he understood of its real nature. Besides, Pelagius had accompanied
his letter to Rome with a letter from the bishop Praylus of Jerusalem,
by whom he was completely justified.
Accordingly Zosimus wrote to the North-African bishops on the
affair of Pelagius and Ccelestius two letters, which must have struck
these bishops with some surprise, expressing as they did a judgment so
1 Jnnocentii epistola ad quinque episco- hominibus quispiam ignoranti error ob-
Os, § 2. repsit, vestra sententia corrigatur.
2 Prater fidem questiones. Si forte ut ὃ See Augustin. de peccato originali, c. 5.
6, et 23
ACQUITTED BY ZOSIMUS. 589
entirely different from that of his predecessor. He reproaches them
for not having entered into a careful examination of this matter, and
for having so easily given credit to the charges of trifling and mis-
chievous men. He gave the most decided testimony to the orthodoxy
.of Pelagius and Cecelestius. Of Pelagius’ letter he said, it agreed
wholly with the oral declarations of Ccelestius. ‘‘ Would that some
one of you,” he writes to the bishops, ‘“‘had been present when the
letter was read! How rejoiced and surprised were all the pious men
who heard it! Scarcely could some refrain from tears to find that men
so thoroughly orthodox 1 could yet be made objects of suspicion. Was
there a single passage in the letter, where grace or the divine assist-
ance was not mentioned ?”2 It would appear, then, that Zosimus,
when he heard the words grace and divine assistance so often repeated,
had never even thought of any different determimation of the concep-
tions associated with those words, and that it seemed to him in the high-
est degree unjust that those who expressed themselves after this man-
ner should be accused of denying grace. He gave the North-African
bishops to understand, that they had gone over the limits which should
be assigned to the doctrines of faith, and raised a controversy on ques-
tions which had no connection whatever with the faith. He had
reminded Ccelestius, he wrote, and the priests from various countries
who were present, that such knotty and moot points and such foolish
disputes had sprung from that pestilent contagion of an idle curiosity,
then spreading on all sides, which led each man to misemploy his mind
and his uncontrolled power of speech in affecting to know more than
holy scripture revealed. He entreated them, in the name and authority
of the apostolic see, that they would submit their réason to the Bible,
as it was explained according to the tradition of the fathers. In his
first letter, relating only to Ccelestius, he decided that either an accuser
must appear in person at Rome, within the space of two months, who
could show that Colestius thought differently from what he had expres-
sed in his own declarations, or that for the future no one should pre-
sume to call in question his orthodoxy after such manifest proofs of it.
It may be easily understood, that a man who could so express him-
self must have differed widely from the doctrines of Augustin, although
he did not precisely agree in all respects with the Pelagian system, nor
perhaps accurately understand it; and, in fact, may not have had any
exact knowledge of doctrinal matters at all. Nothing is easier than to
suppose that Zosimus was one of those Roman ecclesiastics who sought
to make themselves familiar only with the liturgical forms and practical
business of the church, but took no interest in theological studies.
And in this case it would admit of being readily explained, how, without
any independent theological judgment of his own, he was liable to be
governed by the influence of others, as at present by the influence of
the Pelagian party existing in Rome.’
1 Tales etiam absolute fidei. 8 See the edict of the emperor Honorius,
2 Estne ullus locus, in quo Dei gratia vel hereafter to be cited.
adjutorium pretermissum sit ?
VOL. I. 50
590 DECREES OF CARTHAGE AGAINST PELAGIANISM.
The North-African bishops, accustomed already, in less important
matters, to assert their independence in opposition to the arrogant
claims of the Roman bishops to a supreme Judicial authority, had. no
inclination to sacrifice a doctrinal conviction of so much weight to
themselves, to the arbitrary decision of a man in whom the inherited
authority of a successor of’ the apostle Peter was to supply the place
of a theological judgment resting on its own independent grounds.
,Accordingly they addressed to the Roman bishop, in the name of a
council assembled at Carthage, a letter, in which, probably with all
professions of respect, they protested against his decision. They gave
Zosimus to understand, that he had too. easily allowed himself to be de-
ceived by the vague declarations of Ceelestius. _The decided language
of these bishops, combined with many other powerful influences from
without, had already produced such an effect, that Zosimus began to
assume another tone, although he was quite careful not to recede in
the least from his claims to supreme judicial authority. In a second
letter, he praised, indeed, anew the decisive authority of the apostolic
chair, and defended himself against the reproach of lightness and over-
haste in his investigations and decisions; yet he already ceases to make
further mention of what he had said in his earlier letters m favor of
Pelagius and of Coelestius ; and, in compliance with the request of the ΑΕ
ricans, he suspended the final decision of the matter until after further
examination. The North-African bishops, however, were not at all in-
clined to wait for a foreign decision. They anticipated this by a decis-
ion on their own part. At an assembly held at Carthage, in the year
418, they drew up nine canons, in which the doctrines | relating to the
moral condition of human nature, concerning grace and free-will, and
concerning baptism, were defined and settled in a way opposed to the
system of “Pelagius. In this document were expressed the doctrines
of the corruption of human nature by the sin of the first man; of
death, as the punishment of sin; of grace,as an inward communication
of the divine life, from which alone all truly good actions could spring.
The fourth canon asserts: ‘ Let him be accursed who says, the grace of
God, by virtue of which we are justified through Christ, refers merely to
the for giveness of past sins, and not to assistance to secure us against fall-
ing under sin for the future.” V.: ‘“ Who teaches that this grace helps
us to keep from sinning, only so far as it opens our minds to a knowl-
edge of the divine commands, so that we are made acquainted with
what we must strive after and what we must avoid; but that it does
not bestow on us a disposition to love, and a faculty to practise, such
commands. For whereas the apostle says, ‘ Knowledge puifeth up, but
charity edifieth,’ it would be very impious to believe, ‘that we have the
grace of Christ in order to that which puffeth up, but not in order to
1 Tt is to be lamented that this letter has have supposed, that by this was meant he
not reached us; and we can only surmise letter sent at an earlier period by the bishops
its contents from the answer given to it by τὸ Innocent; but it is much more proba ble
Zosimus. Zosimus mentions in his letter that the obtestatio contained in the later letter ᾿
an obtestatid, which the North-African bish- of the Africans, which is lost, ought here to
ops had sent to Rome. Many learned men be understood.
.
DECREES OF THE EMPEROR AGAINST PELAGIANS. 591
that which edifieth ; while, in truth, both are the gift of God, not only
that we know what we must do, but also that we love it in order to do
it; that so where love edifieth, knowledge may not puff ἀρ. Further.
more, in the sixth canon the tenet was condemned, that grace merely
renders more easy the fulfilment of that which could also be fulfilled
without it. In opposition to this view, it was alleged that Christ had
not said, ‘‘ Without me ye would find it more difficult to do anything ;
but without me ye can do nothing.” John 15: 5.
_1 But as the Roman bishop had so preponderant an influence in the
Western church, and as his influence could effect so much even at the
imperial court, it became necessary for the Africans to secure betimes
their ground in that quarter, and to endeavor to gain over the supreme
civil power against Zosimus. According to Augustin’s principles, — as
we have already explained them in the history of the Donatist controversy,
—no hesitation ought to be felt, but it should rather be considered a
duty, to call upon the civil power to repress unchristian errors. The
connection of Augustin with the count Valerius may doubtless have ”
contributed to procure the interposition of the civil power in this pres-
ent case; as,in fact, Augustin himself, in a controversial tract relating
to these matters, which he dedicated to Valerius, intimates that the
latter had deserved well of the truth for his exertions in this cause.?
gius and Ceelestius, and their adherents.”
The bishop Zosimus was not decided enough in his theological views
and character to be able to maintain his ground against such authori-
ties ; and besides this, he was, no doubt, closely pressed at home by a
powerful anti-Pelagian party, which had long maintained itself in the
conflict with the other side. Constantius, a man of some rank, who
had left the post of Vicar of Rome, (vicarius urbis,) and become a
monk, stood at the head of the former party.? Ccelestius was now to,
1De nuptiis et concupiscentia, |. I. ¢. I. § 3.
cohibeamini, Christian potenti laudamus
Profanis istis novitatibus, quibus hic dispu-
officium.”
tando resistimus, tu potestate curando et
instando efficaciter restitisti. By this Au-
gustin drew upon himself from the Pelagian
Julian the deserved reproach, that, as his
party could not maintain their cause by
reasons, they sought to supply this defect by
a resort to outward force. Quam nihil ha-
beant, quod vi qua proteruntur rationis
opponant, ut alia eorum scripta, ita hi tes-
tantur libelli, qui directi ad militarem virum
(quod etiam ipse profiteri potest) aliis magis
negotiis quam literis occupatum, impotentiz
contra nos precantur auxilium. Augustin,
however, does not deny that he had applied
to the civil power in aid of this object; he
only thought he had no reason to be ashamed
for so doing. He speaks of it with confi-
ee and assurance, as if conscious of hav-
ig done nothing but what was right: ‘“ Non
‘impotentiz contra vos precamur auxilium;
sed pro vobis potius, ut ab ausu sacrilego
2 Two of these edicts, one of them ad-
dressed to the bishop Aurelius of Carthage,
seem to have been issued at the request of
the North-African bishops. Moreover, the
remarks of the Pelagian Julian presuppose
that such a law had been enacted in answer
to the petition of the North Africans: but
he imagines he can interpret it to the ad-
vantage of his party; as may be gathered
from the words of Augustin 1. III. c. Julian.
c. I. §3. Sane, ut dicis, si pro vobis potius
ab imperatore responsum est. But then, it
cannot possibly be conceived, how Julian
could have given any such interpretation to
one of the laws which has come down to us.
It is very probable, therefore, that the law
intended is one which has not reached our
times.
8 Prosper, in his chronicle, under the
twelfth consulate of Honorius, says: Con-
stantius servus Christi ex vicario Rome
592 ZOSIMUS AGAINST PELAGIUS.
appear’ before the Roman bishop, and sustain a new examination ; but
he doubtless foresaw the result, and hastily left Rome. Upon this,
Zosimus issued a circular letter, (tractoria,) in which he pronounced sen-
tence of condemnation on Ccelestius and Pelagius ; adopted the decis-
ions of the council of Carthage against the Pelagian doctrines, and
declared himself on the doctrines of the corruption of human nature,
of grace, and of baptism, in accordance with the views of the North-
African church. Not without reason might the Pelagians accuse Zosi-
mus and the Roman clergy, who had before shown themselves so favor-
able to the cause of Pelagius, of denying the convictions they had
previously avowed, no matter whether it was ignorance, the force of
authority, or the fear of man, which had chiefly contributed to produce
this change.!
When thus, through the authority of the Western emperor and of
a Roman bishop wanting in independence, Pelagianism had been con-
demned, the circular letter of Zosimus was sent to the whole church of
the West, and all bishops were required to subscribe it, in its condem-
nation both of the doctrine, and also of the persons of Pelagius and
Ceelestius.2 Those bishops who declined were to be deprived of their
places, and banished from their churches ;? a sentence which was rigor-
ously executed, particularly in Italy, where Pelagianism had many ad-
herents, and in North Africa.
Highteen bishops of Italy who met this fate complain, not without
reason, in a letter composed by the bishop Julian, of Eclanum, and
addressed to the bishop Rufus, of Thessalonica, that, without the con-
vocation of a synod, subscriptions were extorted, separately and indi-
vidually, from the ignorant bishops, of whom there were so many at
that time in the Western church.* Several bishops in the department
of Aguileja, from whom their metropolitan Augustin, the bishop of this
town, demanded their subscriptions, sent to him a covertly Pelagian
habitans, et pro gratia Dei devotissime Pela-
gianis resistens, factione eorundem multa
pertulit. Julian says to his opponents,
(opus imperfect. 1. III. ο. 35:) Cur tantis
totam Italiam factionibus commovistis 4
Cur seditiones Rome conductis populis ex-
citastis? And even though this must be
considered as the accusation of a passionate
opponent, yet there must be some truth lying
at the bottom here.
1 Julian accuses Zosimus of prevarication.
Augustin. c. Julian. Pelagian. 1. VI. § 87.
He says of the Roman clergy: Eos jussi-
onis terrore percussos non erubuisse pre-
varicationis crimen admittere, ut contra pri-
orem sententiam suam, qua gestis catholico
dogmati adfuerant, (since they were present
at that assembly held under Zosimus, which
had declared so favorably to the cause of
Pelagius and Ceelestius,) pronuntiarent.
Augustin. contra duas epistolas Pelagiano-
rum, l. II. § 5.
2 Marius Mercator, in his commonitorium
super nomine Ceelestii, says of this circular:
Per totum orbem missa_subscriptionibus
sanctorum patrum est roborata.
3 See the letter of the bishop Aurelius of ©
Carthage to the bishops of two North-Afri-
can provinces, in which letter he calls upon
those who had not given their signatures at
the council of Carthage, to do it now, so
that no room might be left for suspicion
against any one: Quocum in supradictorum
hereticorum damnatione omnium vestrum
fuerit integra subscriptio, nihil omnino sit
unde ullius vel dissimulationis vel negligen-
tiz vel occultz forsitan pravitatis aliqua
videatur merito, remansisse suspicio.
4 In toto penitus occidente non minus stul-
tum quam impium dogma esse susceptum
et simplicibus episcopis sine congregatione
synodi in locis suis sedentibus ad hoc con-
firmandum subscriptionem extortam. The
words cited in Augustin’s letter of refuta-
tion, addressed to the Roman bishop Boni-
face, contra duas epistolas Pelagianorum,
1. IV. § 20.
JULIAN OF ECLANUM. 598
confession of faith,! drawn out in detail, declaring that their conscience
did not allow them to condemn Pelagius and Ceelestius, persons who
were absent, and whom they had not heard in their own defence ; 2 and
they appealed to a general council. But many, who had resigned their
places for the sake of their convictions, afterwards testified repentance,
᾿ and were accordingly restored again to their spiritual charges ;? though
the sincerity of their repentance may well be questioned. On the
other hand, the bishop Julian, of Eclanum in Apulia, a man whose
scientific attainments and pious life had acquired for him universal re-
spect, distinguished himself by his zeal and courage in standing up for
the defence of what he deemed to be Christian truth. In predomi-
nantly leaning to the side of the practical understanding, his intellec-
tual bent resembled that of Pelagius and Ceelestius. He unfolded
their doctrines in the most systematic form. He appears to have
been a more passionate man than his predecessors; but we should not
forget the oppressed condition of his party. In spite of the imposing
authority which the superiority of his intellect had procured for Augus-
tin in the Western church ; in spite of the authority which the bishops
of Rome derived from their outward position; in spite of the imperial
verdict of condemnation, Julian, the banished bishop, in various wri-
tings defended his principles with a freedom reckless of consequences,
and in a spirit and style of language which would have well befitted
the leader of a dominant party. By his zeal, his scientific gifts, and
his exemplary life, he was enabled to secure adherents to his prin-
ciples. A person who belonged to the party of his adversaries reports
that in a time of famine he devoted his entire property to deeds of be-
nevolence. ‘To be sure, in the judgment of his opponents, there could
be no honest intention in this act of a heretic: it was only a means to
gain himself followers.°
With deserved indignation, showing the sentiments of a noble mind,
Julian rebukes the cowardice of those of his own faith who supposed, as
he expresses it, that true discretion consisted in purchasing, by the servil-
ity of a degenerate soul, the insecure repose of a moment.® He says
of them, that, in the worldliness of their own spirit, they accused of
contention and obstinacy those who preferred to suffer any evil, rather
than to give up their convictions. Had there been a frank and manly
bearing among the bishops, he thinks public opinion would as certainly
have declared against the delusion of the Traductionists, as invincible
reason destroyed it. In order to the defence of truth, science and
1 To be found, along with some others, in
the appendix to the tenth volume of the
Benetlictine edition of Augustin.
2 Metuimus in absentem et nobis inaudi-
torum capita dictare sententiam, nisi cum
presentes fuerint confutati.
ὃ Marius Mercator commonitorium super
nomine Ceelestii, οὐ V.
*Even Augustin esteemed him highly
when a young man. See his ep. 101 to
Julian’s father, the Apulian bishop Memo-
rius.
VOL. II. 50*
5 See Gennadius de V. I. c. 45. That
Julian acted as the organ of a party, is seen
from opus imperfect. 1. I. c. 51, where he
says, it had been entrusted to him by sanctis
viris nostri temporis confessoribus (these of
course were the confessors of Pelagianism)
to write against Augustin. ἢ ath
6 Nihil magis cautis convenire consillis,
quam degeneris animi famulatu emere vel
infidam momentorum quietem.
594 JULIAN OF ECLANUM
courage (scientia et fortitudo) must be united ; neither is of any avail
without the other.! .
> Not without reason might Julian complain of the oppressive measures
against the adherents of the Pelagian doctrines; not without reason
might he complain that Pelagian and Ccelestian had been coined
into heretical names wherewith to terrify the ignorant multitude, and
that the latter were constituted judges on points which they were not
competent to understand.?, He demanded, on the contrary, that wise
and judicious men should be chosen out of all ranks and professions,
whether ecclesiastics or civilians, to investigate the question; such as,
though few in number, might yet be distinguished for reason, scientific
cultivation, and freedom of spirit. He complained that the guidance
of the church had been wrested from reason, in order that a doctrine
which recommended itself to the people might have liberty to spread
everywhere without check or hindrance.* He objects to his opponents,
that they used every means to prevent freedom of inquiry, by calling
in the secular power ; for they felt themselves obliged to resort to force,
because they were deserted by reason.® Augustin, on the other hand,
proceeding on his own principles of ecclesiastical law, which we have
already explained, and his idea of the church, appealed to the authority
of. the church, which had already decided the question, and to the le-
gitimate power of the magistracy, which is bound to punish the propa-
gators of error in the same manner as other evil-doers. ‘ Wouldst
thou have no fear of the magistracy,” says he to him, “ then do what
is right. But there is nothing right in maintaining a heretical, in op-
position to the apostolic doctrine. The heresy which the bishops have
already condemned needs no longer to be examined, but should be
checked by the power of a Christian magistracy.” ® Julian constantly
made his appeal to ‘‘ reason,’ which alone should examine and decide
on all questions. But this reason assuredly had to do only with uni-
versal conceptions. From mere reason it was impossible to understand
what was meant by original sin, the need of redemption, and redemp-
tion itself. The subject-matter of these conceptions could be under-
stood only from the actual experience of the soul. Had Julian
consistently followed out his “reason,” he must have gone a great
deal farther in his negations. Augustin could oppose to him the con-
sciousness of the Christian church, which was not first made to be such
by this or that bishop, but which was found already present by all as
the one which existed from the beginning. And the objection that the
1 Opus imperfect. c. Julian. at the begin-
ning.
2 Quod Ceelestianorum vel Pelagianorum
nomine homines terreamus, 1. II. ὁ. Julia-
num, § 34. ‘That it was endeavored to stir
up against them homines de plebeiia feece
sellulariorum, milites, scholasticos auditori-
ales, nautas, tabernarios, etc.
8 Paucitas quam ratio, eruditio libertasque
sublimat, c. Julian. 1. II. § 36.
4 Eripiuntur ecclesize gubernacula ratio-
nis, ut erecto cornu velificet dogma popu-
lare, c. Julian. opus imperfectum, 1]. II. ο. 2.
5 Quod omnibus opibus negationem ex-
aminis a mundi potestatibus comparatis ;
intelligitis enim, agendum vobis vi esse,
cum deserimini rationis auxilio. L.c.c. 103.
δ Vis non timere potestatem ? bonum fac.
Non est autem bonum, contra apostolicum
sensum exserere et asserere hzereticum sen-
sum. Damnata ergo heresis ab episcopis
non adhuc examinanda, sed coércenda est a
potestatibus Christianis. L. ¢
AND AUGUSTIN. 595
doctrine was a popular one, and agreeable to the people, he does not
repel, but admits the statement to be true ; contending that it is not
so much an objection as a commendation, that the doctrine which
responds to the consciousness of the Christian church should be dis-
. tinctly marked. ‘‘ Such a people,” says he, ‘‘ Ambrose did not make,
but he found. We admit our doctrine is a doctrine of the people ;
for we are the people of Him who was for this reason called Jesus,
because he redeemed his people from their 5118... 1 And Julian him-
self, on another occasion, agrees with Augustin in attaching importance
to the popular consciousness, when he appeals from the authority of
the church, and from what appeared to him to be an arbitrary imposi-
tion of doctrinal subtileties, to the same consciousness ; though not in-
deed to the peculiar subject-matter of the Christian consciousness, but
to the foundation of the universal sense of God; which itself, however,
without the influence of Christianity, could not have been so clearly
developed. He who on other occasions was so used to refer to the
learned and to the more cultivated minds, referred also to the simple,
who, being occupied with the cares of business, had received nothing
from the schools, yet by faith alone had sought to attain to the church
of Christ. He advised them not to allow themselves to be disturbed
by dark questions ; but, while they believed God to be the true Creator
of men, to believe without wavering also, that he is a good, a true, and
a just being; and while they held fast their conviction of this Trinity,
they might admit and approve every thing which they heard agreeing.
with this idea, while they should let no force of argument deprive
them of this, but might repudiate every authority and every party
which sought to convince them of the contrary.2_ -
The principles of Pelagianism rigidly carried out, would have gone
to the extreme of denying altogether man’s need of redemption ; con-
sequently, of making Christ wholly superfluous ; hence, of giving an
entirely new shape to the church doctrine concerning Christ. Yet,
though these principles were not unfolded with this rigid consistency.
they could not fail, if but applied, so far as they were unfolded, with a
clear consciousness of their import and with logical closeness, to beget
a theory of the person of Christ of a peculiar stamp, and correspond-
ing to the principles themselves. This connection, however, never be-
trayed itself in the way in which Pelagius and Ccelestius were accus-
tomed to present their scheme; for only the disputed questions
respecting the character of man were deemed of importance by them:
on all other points they adopted the common doctrines, receiving them
without alteration, and without examining how far they harmonized
with their fundamental positions.
1Tales populos non fecit, sed invenit
Ambrosius; fatemur dogma nostrum esse
populare, quia populus ejus sumus, qui
propterea est appellatus Jesus, quia salyum
fecit populum suum a peccatis eorum. L.
Gace:
2Simplices, qui aliis occupati negotiis
nihil de eruditione ceperunt, sola tamen fide
Yet we have seen already, in the
ad ecclesiam Christi pervenire curarunt, ne
facile obscuris quzestionibus terreantur, sed
credentes, etc. Nec hoc eis ulla vis argu-
mentationis evellat, sed detestentur omnem
auctoritatem atque omnem societatem con-
traria persuadere nitentem. C. Julian. 1. V
44.
596 LEPORIUS.
case of Theodore of Mopsuestia, how closely his peculiar views of man,
the relation of which to the (in many respects) kindred Pelagian
views we shall consider more at large hereafter, —how closely his doc-
trine of human freedom was connected with his peculiar notions re-
specting the character and work of Christ. A trace of this connection
we perceive in Julian of Eclanum, who objects to his opponents, that, if
they did not suppose a human nature in Christ subjected to the seduc-
tions of sense and to temptation, as in other men, but derived every
thing of a moral nature in him only from a natural necessity, they could
not suppose in him any true human virtue, nor recognize him as a moral
example for mankind.! The same connection also would be very ap-
parent in a man who, near the commencement of the fifth century, was
called a follower of the Pelagian doctrines, if indeed he was rightly so
named. We mean Leporius, a monk and presbyter in the south of
France.”
Leporius is said to have been condemned in his native country, on
account of his Pelagian tenets, and, in consequence of this, to have emi-
grated with several of his followers, in 426, to North Africa. But at
Carthage he was convinced by several bishops, chiefly perhaps by
Augustin, that he was in an error. The bishops by whom he had been
convinced, commended him to the paternal gentleness of their Gallic
colleagues, in a letter accompanying the recantation of Leporius. In
this recantation, he calls God to witness, that he had supposed his error
to be the truth ; that a well-meant zeal, though without knowledge, had
deceived him. ‘This introduction is suited to inspire confidence in the
sincerity of his recantation ; but, from many things which he says in
this document, it is difficult to believe, that a man who, in his earlier
doctrine concerning the person of Christ, discovers a tendency of mind
so near akin to that of Theodore of Mopsuestia, would now pass to a
mode of expression so opposite, and pushed even to the extreme of
crassness, as exhibits itself in many passages of this recantation. But
perfectly ignorant as we are of what, in the meanwhile, had been work-
ing within the breast of this individual, we can come to no further de-
termination on this subject.
In the above-mentioned recantation drawn up by Leporius, no traces
are to be found of Pelagian doctrines ; but the heretical matter in his
doctrines would seem, according to this, to have consisted simply in a
view of Christ’s person agreeing, in all respects, with the principles of
the Antiochian school. Like Theodore, he opposed the confounding
of the predicates of the two natures. ‘It was not God himself who
was born as man, but a perfect man was born with God.” On the
other hand, he now said, in his recantation: “1 believe thoroughly
that God is unable to do only what he does not will todo. If God
willed to be born, as he assuredly did, I firmly believe also that he
1Ut omnis virtutum pulchritudo, quam 2 He is called a Pelagian by Cassian, de
in se Christus expresserat, indebitis nature incarnatione Christi, lib. I. 6. 4; and Genna-
ejus Jaudibus vacuata flaccesceret.cunctoque dius, de V.J.-c. 59.
veritatis suze splendore nudata sacrum ma-
gisterium mediatoris offeret irrisui. Opus
imperfect. 1. LV. c. 50.
ANNIANUS. 597
could be born ; since God’s essence is subject to no limitation.” Like
Theodore, he had distinguished from each other the different senses in
which Christ is called Son of God according to the two natures, the
proper Son of God according to his divine, and the adopted Son of
God according to his human nature. He likewise supposed, as did
Theodore, a progressive revelation of the deity, in the human nature
associated with it, up to the time of Christ’s resurrection.? He con-
ceived of Christ, in his temptations and sufferings, as a man left to
himself, so that by his efforts, his obedience, his merits, his constancy,
he achieved for himself that higher state which began with his resur-
rection.2> He also maintained with Theodore, that omniscience was not
to be ascribed to our Saviour as man, and that the ignorance which he
professed with respect to the time of the final judgment was to be un-
derstood in the literal sense.
If we might believe, then, that account which represents Leporius to
have been a Pelagian, it might very easily be explained how he must
have evolved his doctrine concerning the nature of Christ out of his
doctrine concerning man. But the singularity in this case would
be, that the bishops of Carthage, who looked upon the opposition
to everything Pelagian as so important, should have required no re-
cantation from Leporius on these points. We might from this cir-
cumstance be led to conjecture, that the Pelagianism with which he was
charged had been imputed to him only by inference. Or we must
Suppose that two epochs are to be assumed in the history of the
progress of Leporius in forming his doctrinal system, which Cassian
and Gennadius have neglected to notice ;— the first, when he was a
Pelagian ; next, when he was induced to subscribe the circular letter
of Zosimus, and no longer appeared as so open an advocate of Pelagi-
anism, But his Pelagianism, which had been merely suppressed, had
subsequently led him to the peculiar doctrines which he maintained
concerning the person of Christ, which he supposed he might teach,
without infringing on the doctrines of the church, since, in fact, pre-
vious to the outbreak of the Nestorian controversies, a great deal on
this subject was still vague and undefined.
Among the zealous defenders of the Pelagian doctrines, deserves to
be particularly mentioned, Annianus, deacon of the church at Celeda,
(perhaps in Italy.4) By the decision of Zosimus, already mentioned,
he was most probably obliged to resign his spiritual charge ; but he
continued to exert an active influence in favor of the principles of the
persecuted party, to which he gloried in belonging.® He believed
that he was ‘contending for the cause of morality, which, by the doc-
trines of the Traducianists, was exposed to the utmost peril,?— and
1 Filius Dei proprius — et adoptivus.
2 As may be gathered from the antithesis
in the recantation: Nee quasi per gradus et
tempora proficientem in Deum, alterius
status ante resurrectionem, alterius post
resurrectionem fuisse credamus.
8 Laborem, devotionem, meritum, fidem.
*See Hieronym. ep. 81 ad Alypium et
Augustinum, where he is cited as a friend
of Pelagius and author of a violent contro-
versial tract.
5In the dedication to Orontius, one of
the deposed Pelagian bishops: Inter has,
quas pro fidei vobiscam amore perpetimur
tentationum procellas.
6 Per occasionem quarundam nimis diffi-
598 HOW PELAGIANISM WAS CONQUERED.
for the cause of moral freedom, the recognition of which distinguished
Christianity from Paganism, where sin was palliated by charging
it on natural necessity and fate.! Believing that he found in the
prevailingly moral interest evinced by Chrysostom, in the manner in
which he attacked the excuses plead by moral remissness, in the man-
ner in which he stood up in defence of free-will along with grace,”
a great deal which, being akin to his own views, admitted also of being
opposed to the principles of the Traducianists and the new Maniche-
ans,° he translated the Homilies of Chrysostom on the gospel of
Matthew,‘ and his Homilies in praise of the apostle Paul, into Latin ;
and accompanied these translations with dedications to his Pelagian
friends, in which he very plainly avowed his own principles.°
Various offshoots from the Pelagian party continued to propagate
themselves in Italy, down to the middle of the fifth century ; and the
Roman bishop, Leo the Great, had occasion once more to remind the
bishops, that no ecclesiastic belonging to the Pelagian party could be
reidmitted to the communion of the church without a very distinct
recantation, and without expressly subscribing all the decisions of the
church in opposition to its doctrines. As late as the close of the fifth
century, an aged bishop named Seneca appeared in Italy, who ven-
tured publicly to defend doctrines akin to Pelagianism, and, in fact, to.
excommunicate a presbyter, who contradicted them. It is impossible,
however, from the letter, written in passion, which the Roman bishop
Gelasius issued against him, to determine with certainty whether he
really stood in any outward connection with the Pelagian party, or
whether perhaps, as an unlearned man, and (if what Gelasius says is
true) without knowing anything about Pelagius, while supposing him-
self to be perfectly orthodox, he had been forced, in opposing the doc-
trine of original sin in its stiffest form, and the doctrine of the damna-
tion of infants, so revolting to all sound feelings, to hazard many
assertions closely bordering on Pelagianism.®
If now we glance back at the result of these disputes in the Western
church, it certainly cannot be denied, that as well here as in the doc-
trinal controversies of the Oriental church, it was no free development
of the opposite sides which had brought about that result ; but Pelagi-
anism had succumbed to an outward force, which hindered it from
freely expressing itself. At the same time, however, a great difference
is manifest between the course of these disputes, and of those in the Ori-
ental church. It was not the shifts and intrigues of a theological party,
_ which, mixing up secular and spiritual interests, contrived to connect
cilium questionum eedificationi morum at- evangelica perfectione nobiscum pugnare
videtur.
que ecclesiastics disciplinse satis insolenter
obstrepitur.
1 Ingenite nobis a Deo libertatis decus,
cujus confessio preecipuum inter nos genti-
lesque discrimen est.
2 See below, the development of his sys-
tem.
3 Non enim est in alterutro (doctrine con-
cerning grace or free-will) aut incautus aut
nimius; sed in utroque moderatus. Pro
Videtur non tam preesentes infor-
masse discipujos, quam nobis contra vers
fidei oppugnationem auxilia przparasse.
* Only: his translation of eight homilies
has come down to our times.
5 See opp. Chysostomi ed. Montfaucon.
T. II. et T. Vil.
6 See the documents in the appendix to
the tenth volume of the Benedictine edition
of Augustin.
IMPORTANCE OF THE DISPUTED POINTS. 599
itself with the court ; but it was the superior intellect of an individual,
actuated solely by zeal for what he considered to be sacred truth,
which, controlling the minds around it, succeeded by their means to
make the civil power subservient to his own convictions. And although
- afew men of independent minds were obliged to yield to force and to
numbers, yet the doctrine, which in this case gained the victory, was
not, as so frequently happened in the Oriental church, a doctrine forced
upon the natural development of the church by the secular power, and
therefore to be followed at some subsequent period by a violent reaction ;
but that doctrine conquered which had on its side the voice of the
universal Christian consciousness, since this declared itself; against the
Pelagian tendency ; —the doctrine conquered which found a ready
point of union in the whole life and experience of the church, as ex-
pressed in its prayers and in all its liturgical forms. Hence also it fol-
lowed, that although Pelagianism had been conquered, rather by sup-
pression than by free evolution, yet there was no violent redction on
this side. But, for this very reason, the system of Augustin, as will
hereafter appear, could. not so easily succeed in establishing its claims
to validity on another side of it, where this system itself came in colli-
sion with a higher inward power, with a conviction hitherto dominant
in the great majority of minds, and which in fact struck its roots im the
depths of the Christian life and consciousness.
We will, then, in the first place, before proceeding farther to develope
the history, bring more distinctly to view what has just been stated, by
contemplating more nearly the inner relation to each other of the con- ἢ
flicting views which here present themselves, and the manner in which
the conflict was carried on between them. And firSt, in respect to the-
importance of the disputed questions of which we here speak, in their
bearing on the Christian system of faith; Pelagius, it is true, and
especially Ccelestius,! sought to lower the importance of the points in
dispute, as if all differences here might be reduced to mere diversities ἡ
of speculative opinion, which had nothing to do with faith. But to this
course they were led by their relation to the dominant party in the
church ; since for the present their only anxiety was that they might
be allowed freely to express their own peculiar principles, as others
were allowed to express the opposite ones. For a different course was
pursued by the ardent and untrammelled bishop Julian of Eclanum,
who, after being spurned from the \dominant church, had no further
cause to seek after a reconciliation of differences. He denounces? in the
strongest terms, those of his party who, in yielding from outward mo-
tives to the’party im power, consoled themselves with the reflection,’
that this dispute had nothing to do with the essentials of faith, but
related merely to obscure questions in which faith was but slightly con-
cerned. He maintained, on the contrary, that the highest object of
Christian faith itself, the doctrine concerning God, was essentially con-
1 See above, his trial at Carthage, and his 8 Ejusmodi opinionem hactenus super
letter to the Roman bishop. Pp. 581, 588. nostro fuisse certamine, ut ad questionem
2 Opus imperfectum Augustini contra involutam magis quam ad summam spec-
Julianum, |. V. c. 2 et seq. and 1. VI.c.1. tare fidei crederetur.
600 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
cerned here ; for the Traducianists ' and the Catholics did not agree even
in their doctrine concerning God. The God of the Traducianists was
not the God of the gospel ; for since they taught that human nature is,
from the birth upwards, tainted with sin, and since they declared concu-
piscence itself to be sin, they denied either that God is the creator of
man’s nature, and made Satan its author, and consequently fell into Ma-
nicheism, or they made God himself to be the author of sin; and in teach-
ing that God was a being who punished unavoidable sin, and who arbi-
trarily assigned the destinies of woe or of bliss, they impinged upon his
moral attributes of holiness and justice. On the other side, Augustin
did not concede to Ceelestius, that this dispute was so unimportant in its
bearing on doctrines ; for as the acknowledgment of the doctrine of a
Redeemer and a redemption, in which consisted the essence of Christ-
ianity, presupposed the acknowledgment of a need of redemption, hence
this doctrine was closely connected with the doctrine of the corruption
of man’s nature, and accordingly with the doctrine of the first sin and
its consequences ; and the former fundamental doctrine, without this
presupposition, lost its significance. On the contrast, therefore, between
Adam and Christ, rested the essence of Christianity.2 Among the
Pelagians, accordingly, the predominant polemical interest was the in-
terest in behalf of the universal idea of a religious moral sense, in a
form, however, in which it could not have developed itself without
Christianity ; while, with Augustin, the predominant interest was in
behalf of that which constitutes the more peculiar essence of the Chris-
tian consciousness.
As, in this controversy, sever] matters, standing closely connected
together in the Christian system of faith, were brought into the discus-
sion, the question now forces itself upon us, whether perhaps all the
individual differences which here presented themselves to view might
not be reduced to one fundamental difference in the mode of religious
apprehension, from which, as the original source, all the others pr oceeded.
But if, in examining doctrinal controversies generally, we should our-
selves distinguish what is set forth with clear consciousness by the con-
tending parties as the fundamental point of difference, and the still more
general and more recondite opposition, to which this fundamental differ-
ence admits of being reduced, though the contending parties, who have
not traced the opposition to its ultimate grounds, are not conscious of
any such thing, —it is of the more importance to make a distinction in
the present case, because the convictions of those who defended the
Pelagian doctrines had grown out of a practical interest, while they
stood on the common ground of a system which had been handed down
to them, and against which they had no intention whatever to contend.
Furthermore, we must distinguish what is original and what derived
in the genetic development out of the life within, out of the Christian
1 As he denominated the defenders of the 2JIn causa duorum hominum, quorum
doctrine of original sin, accusing them of per unum yenumdati sumus sub _ peccato,
maintaining that sin was propagated by per alterum redimimur a peccatis, proprie
generation, the propagatio peccati per tra- fides Christiana consistit. Augustin. de
ducem. peccato originali, ὁ 28.
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 601
consciousness, and what stands in the same relation of original and
derived in the speculative conceptions of the understanding.
If we are contented to receive as true what was constantly express-
ed with clear consciousness by both the parties themselves, it must
seem that the dispute properly started from the different modes of con-
‘templating human nature in its present condition, or more particularly,
from different notions with regard to the relation in which the moral
condition of the later race stands to the sin of the first man; for
everything else that came into the discussion, the different notions
respecting man’s need of help, respecting the nature of the redemption,
respecting the work of Christ and the operation of Christianity, respect-
ing the object and the effects of baptism,— all this was closely connected
with the fundamental difference above mentioned. Augustin, in fact,
was continually falling back upon the position, that man found himself
in a state of corruption; and, on the other hand, this was the point to
which the denial of the Pelagians particularly referred. Moreover, in
the development of the religious consciousness, this will constitute the
most original and the most important difference of all, namely, in what
relation man places himself to God and Christ, whether in the relation
of one who needs help and redemption, or not ; and in what degree of
strength this consciousness manifests itself.
At the same time, however, we meet with many disputed points
which do not admit of being thus traced back to this fundamental
difference. On the contrary, differences of the two systems in indi-
vidual points are to be be met with, from which that very disputed point
itself which was prominently set forth by the nie sit as the most
universal of all, admits of being derived.
Accordingly we find here, in the first place, a Sitseank mode of ap-
prehending one conception of great importance on account of its bearing
on the system of religion and morals, which did not proceed from the
different modes of apprehending the present state of human nature,
but rather lay at the foundation of these different views themselves.
We mean the different ways of apprehending the doctrine concerning
the freedom of the human will. In the Pelagian system, moral free-
dom is apprehended as a freedom of choice; as the faculty of deciding
at each moment alike between good and evil; of choosing one of the
two for its determinations. This is the fruitful root, which, according to
the different bent of the will, produces good or evil.1_ On the other hand,
Augustin says, such an indifference, such an equipendency between
evil and good, from whence man is able at each moment alike to decide
in favor of the one or the other,? is a thing utterly inconceivable. Man
1 The words of Pelagius in the first book
of his work de libero arbitrio: Habemus
possibilitatem utriusque partis a Deo insi-
tam, velut quandam, ut ita dicam, radicem
fructiferam, que ex voluntate hominis di-
versa gignat, et que possit ad proprii culto-
ris arbitrium vel nitere flore virtutum vel
sentibus horrere vitiorum. Augustin. de
gratia Christi contra Pelagium et Ceelesti-
VOL. Il. 51
um, ὁ 19. With this, Julian agrees in sev-
eral passages cited by Augustin. Opus
imperfectam, 1. 0. εὖ ΥἹ.
As Augustin aptly describes it in his
work against Julian: Libra tua, quam cona-
ris ex utraque parte per zequalia momenta
suspendere, ut yoluntas quantum est ad
malum, tantum etiam sit ad bonum libera.
Opus imperfectum, c. Julian 1. II. ¢. 117.
602 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
is already determined within himself by his disposition, before he pro-
ceeds to act. Evil and good cannot spring from the same root. The
good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, nor the evil tree good fruit.
The root from which all good proceeds is love to God; the root of all
evil is love to self. According as man is predominantly actuated by
love to God, or love to himself, he brings to pass that which is good or
that which is evil! That definition of free-will, he maintains, cannot
apply to God nor to holy beings.” It, in fact, presupposes a corruption
of the moral powers, and loses its applicability the more in proportion
as man advances farther in moral development, in proportion as he
approaches to true freedom. At the highest poimt of moral ad-
vancement, freedom and necessity meet together ;? the rational being
acts with freedom, in determining himself according to the inward law
of his moral nature. Since evil is that which is at variance with the
original essence of the rational creature ; that which is not grounded in
nature, but which contradicts nature ; it follows that that which, in the
‘Pelagian definition, is regarded as the characteristic mark of moral
freedom, already presupposes a corruption of the moral nature, as sin
exercises over it a power of attraction which it ought not to exercise.
' With this difference was connected still other important differences.
Proceeding on the above-stated more ideal and material‘ conception of
freedom, Augustin must believe that he found in the actual appearance
of human nature an opposition to the freedom which was so appre-
hended, inasmuch as this true conception of freedom is in this case no-
pwhere applicable. Man uniformly finds himself in a state contradicting
this freedom, in a condition of bondage tosm. Thus this determinate
conception of freedom leads Augustin to the presupposition of a cor-
ruption of human nature, and of an original moral condition which
preceded it. And cohering also with this is the thought, that, when
once this original freedom had been disturbed by the first freely chosen
aberration from the law of the original nature, a state of bondage fol-
lowed after the state of freedom. As human nature, evolving itself
in conformity with its condition by nature, surrendering itself to the
godlike, becomes continually more confirmed and established in true
freedom ; so, in surrendering itself to sin, it becomes continually more
involved in the bondage of sin, to which Augustin frequently applies
the words of Christ: ‘‘He who commits sin is the servant of sin.”
Evil is its own punishment, as goodness is its own reward. On the
other hand, Pelagius and his adherents found no cause, inasmuch as
they proceeded on that more formal and empirical conception of free-
dom, to suppose any corruption of the moral nature, and any different
original condition of it. With the essence of freedom, the possibility
of evil as well as of good is for them, in and of. itself, already sup-
posed. This possibility belongs to the essence of human nature, and is
hence something inalienable. ‘The question, Whence comes sin ? is there-
fore not to be entertained. That man who, having it at each moment
1 Comp. Augustin. 1. ο. de gratia Christi. 2 C. Julian. imperfect. ]. VI. ¢. 10.
Rais : 5 : ; :
liud est caritas, radix bonorum, alind cu- 3 The beata necessitas boni,as opposed to
1 ? ὲ : : : ; |
piditas, radix malorum; tantumqnue inter se the misera necessitas mali.
differunt, quantum virtus et vitium. 4 As distinguished from “formal ἢ
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 603
in his power to choose the good as well as the evil, chooses the evil,
has no other cause for this than his momentary self-determination, else
he would not be free. When, therefore, even the Pelagians were con-
strained by an outward authority to adopt the opinion of an original
moral state, of a first man and of a first sin as a fact, yet it is clear
that this opinion could stand in no inner connection with their anthro-
pological system as a whole; that they, on the contrary, remained in-
different to it; for, according to their presupposition of moral freedom
apprehended as above described, the moral condition of human nature
could suffer no essential change: the same faculty of choice between
good and evil continued still to exist.
In connection with this stands another doctrinal conclusion. Pela-
gius places human nature, furnished by God as its creator with the
moral faculty, in the middle between good and evil; but Augustin
considers human nature either as existing in its original state, in com-
munion with the original source of goodness, freely serving it as its
natural organ; or estranged from the higher power of goodness, whose
organ human nature was destined to be, and enslaved by the foreign
power of evil. The moral faculties of man point, according to Augus-
tin, to the original fountain of good, from which alone all goodness can
flow-— to God, communion with whom is the supreme good of beings
endowed with reason, and without whose communion nothing exists but
evil. The following antithesis, therefore, presents itself: Life in com-
munion with God, the divine life, the supremacy of goodness, nature
subordinated to grace; and, on the other side, estrangement from God_
by a bent of will fallen from the supreme good, selflove, sin. The:
Pelagian idea of freedom, on the contrary, admits of no such divine Ὁ
principle of life, transforming and ennobling man’s nature, nor of any /
systematically grounded. opposition between nature and grace. God:
has provided human nature with all the capacities and powers requisite
to the fulfilment of its destination, and so also with moral powers for
the practical exercise of all goodness. This unchangeable faculty is
the work of God alone. It belongs only to man, that he should by his
will apply these powers bestowed on him by his Creator, and thereby
become what God has destined him to be. The ability is from God ;
the act of willing and being, from man.!
But Augustin does not suppose, like Pelagius, that man, after having
been once endowed by the Creator with reason and free-will, the capa-
cities for the knowledge and practical exercise of goodness, was then
wholly left to himself in the application of them; but he supposes man
also, in this latter respect, to be still in absolute and constant depend-
ence on God as the sole original source of all being, all truth and good-
ness. The capacities of the rational creature are not anything com-
plete and self-sufficient by themselves, but only organs to receive, to
appropriate, and to reveal what is communicated to them by fellowship
with that absolute source of truth and goodness. Just as the eye
1 Pelagius, quoted by Augustin de gratia ra sux contulit; duo vero reliqua, hoc est,
Christi,c. 1V. Primum illud, id esse posse, velle et esse,ad hominem referenda sunt,
ad Deum proprie pertinet, qui illud creatu- quia de arbitrii fonte descendunt.
604 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
stands in a certain correlation to the sun, so reason stands in correlation
to God.!_ By this principle he was necessarily led to conceive that all
rational beings, and not man alone, are dependent on grace, (gratia,
the inward revelation and communication of God, the community of
the divine life,) in order to the attainment of their destined end. And
it follows from this, that, according to Augustin, this dependence does
not first proceed from the vitiation of man’s moral nature, but was
originally implanted in this, in like manner as in the nature of all
the rational creatures of God. God is the absolute spirit, whose will
is law— without whose fellowship, without whose support and assist-
ance, no creaturely spirit, whether angel or man, can persevere in
goodness, in the sound and healthful development of his essential being,
which is akin to the divine. Had not such support and aid been be-
stowed on the angels and on the first man, their apostacy from God
would have involved no guilt. They would have wanted the requisite
means for persevering in the original state.2 It was first to be made
manifest, in the development of rational creatures, what the free-will
was capable of doing by itself; in order that, if it should show itself
worthy of such a reward, the higher power of grace might supervene,
to ennoble rational creatures, and conduct them onward to their per-
fection. Thus the angels, forasmuch as they remained faithful by their
free-will to the divine grace, attained to that higher measure of grace,
by virtue of which they were made secure against ever falling — to the
immutability of the divine life — to that fulness of love which admits
no intrusion of the selfish principle.. To the same dignity the first
man would also have attained, had he fulfilled that condition, and re-
mained true to God by the bent of his free-will.®
Thus we arrive here at a difference which is not to be traced to dif-
ferent notions respecting the present condition of human nature, but
which precedes it; although this difference was made more prominent
by the more speculative and systematic mind of Augustin, than it was
by the Pelagians, who did not lay so deep the foundations of their the-
ory ;—a different view of man’s relation to God in the original state
itself, inasmuch as man, even in this state, was dependant on God’s
grace, which he could appropriate with his own free-will, and through
1K. g. Augustin’s words: Sicut corporis
oculus non adjuvatur a luce, ut ab eadem
luce clausus aversusque discedat, ut autem
videat, adjuvatur ab ea, neque hoc omnino,
nisi illa adjuverit, potest; ita Deus, qui lux
est hominis interioris, adjuvat nostra men-
tis obtutum, ut non secundum nostram
sed secundum ejus justitiam boni aliquid
operemur. De peccatorum meritis et remis-
sione, |. 11. ὁ 5.
2 Si hoc adjutorium vel angelo vel homi-
ni, cum primum facti sunt, defuisset, quoni-
am non talis natura facta erat, ut sine divino
adjutorio posset manere si vellet, non utique
sua culpa cecedissent, adjutorium quippe
defuisset, sine quo manere non possent.
Augustin. de correptione et gratia, § 32.
“Mh
8 Deum sic ordinasse angelorum et homi-
num vitam, ut in ea prius ostenderet, quid
posset eorum liberum arbitrium, deinde
quid posset su gratiz bencticium. The
end which the good angels attained by the
persevering bent of their will — donec istam
summe beatitudinis plenitudinem tanquam
premium ipsius permansionis acciperent, id
est, ut magna per Spiritum Sanctum data
abundantia caritatis Dei, cadere ulterius
omnino non possent, et hoc de se certissime
nossent. And of the first man: In quo
statu recto et sine vitio, si per ipsum liberum
arbitrium manere voluisset, profecto sine
ullo mortis et infelicitatis experimento acci-
peret illam merito hujus permansionis beati-
tudinis plenitudinem. LL. c. ὁ 27, 28.
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 605
which alone he could fulfil all goodness.!. The different way in which
the present state of human nature was regarded, originated in a differ-
ent mode of apprehending the relation of the rational creature to God;
of the natural to the supernatural. While the rigid prosecution of the
Pelagian principles to their consequences left no foothold whatever for
‘the recognition of anything supernatural; in the system of Augustin,
on the contrary, the point of union for the supernatural element is giv-
en from the outset. According to his conception, such as the nature
of the rational spirit, that it can find nowhere, but in surrendering it-
self to a supernatural, godlike element, its true life, the realization of
its destiny. And his views in this respect correspond to that which was
expressed by the older church-teachers concerning the relation of the
image of God to likeness with God. Now from these views, as its’
foundation, resulted the doctrine of Augustin, that since man, by his
free-will, became estranged from God, the original fountain of all good,
this free-will, left to itself, was now only active to sm; and that he
needed a new supervenient grace, in order to be brought back to good-
ness; so that it was at this point the question arose which came into.
discussion in the dispute between the two parties.
But we may reduce this difference again still farther back to a differ-
ence in the mode of apprehending the relation of the creation to the.
Creator, although this difference did not actually come into discussion
in the controversy. Pelagianism was based on the view, that when
God had once created the world, and provided it with all the powers
requisite for its preservation and development, he permitted it to go on
with the powers bestowed on it, and according to the laws implanted in
it; so that the continuous operation of the divine, agency was with
reference only to the preservation of the powers and capacities, but not
to any concursus in order to their development and exercise. Augustin,
on the other hand, conceives God’s agency of preservation as a con-
tinual creation, and the life and activity of the creatures, collectively
and individually, as depending on the almighty and omnipresent agency
of God, and conditioned thereon; standing in absolute dependence
upon it at each moment.”
Although this difference was not generally brought to notice and
dwelt upon in this controversy, yet Jerome perceived that the whole
matter was to be reduced to this; and he laid it as a charge against
the Pelagians, that they denied the absolute dependence of the
creature on the Creator; that they placed man on a level with God by
this independence which they attributed to him in reference to his ac-
tions; and opposed to them the words of Christ in John 5: 17, re-
specting God’s agency in the creation, which is never at rest, but always
1 Augustin. de corruptione et gratia, § 31.
Habuit primus homo gratiam, in qua si per-
manere vellet, nunquam malus esset, et sine
qua etiam cum libero arbitrio bonus esse
non posset. Liberum arbitrium ad malum
sufficit; ad bonum autem parum est, nisi
adjuvetur ab omnipotenti bono. 5
1 Nag
VOL. II.
2E.g. Augustin’s words: Deus, cujus
occulta potentia cuncta penetrans inconta-
minabili presentia facit esse quicquid ali-
quo modo est, in quantumcunque est, quia
nisi faciente illo non tale vel tale esset; sed
prorsus esse non posset. De civitate Dei
Ἰ. XIII. ο. 26.
606 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
putting forth.1 And, in a certain sense, it may unquestionably be af-
firmed, that not only in its development under the form of conceptions,
this difference is the most original one, but that we have also presented
here the most original, fundamental difference, as it respects the posi-
tion of the religious consciousness; for the shape which the religious
consciousness takes in relation to God as Redeemer, certainly presup-
poses the shape which the same consciousness takes in relation to God
as Creator. The general consciousness of absolute dependence on
God is the most original of all, and the whole diversity of religious life
depends ultimately on the fact how that consciousness has unfolded and
shaped itself.
This difference in fundamental ideas, if it was expressed and applied
with clear consciousness, must have had for its consequence an impor-
tant difference in the views entertained respecting the progress of hu-
manity, and respecting the nature of revelation and redemption ; but
it was very far from being the case, that Pelagius, Coelestius, or Julian,
were distinctly and fully conscious to themselves of the principles lying
at the basis of their tenets, and of all the consequences which flowed
from them. They came to their principles, not by impartial reflection,
proceeding solely from a scientific interest, on the principles of the
system of faith; but by a polemic interest in behalf of practical Chris-
tianity ; and they applied these principles only to just the extent which
this interest called for, as the followmg history will more fully show.
From what has been said, it follows that the views entertained by Au-
gustin and by the Pelagians respecting the state of the first man, the
character of the first sin and its consequences, must have widely dif-
fered from each other, although both parties professed to derive their
views from the same source of information — the narrative in Genesis ;
and, moreover, both parties agreed with each other in their principles
of interpretation, and in the mode of applying these principles, and
more particularly in the literal method of exposition. Such an oppo-
sition as is supposed in the system of Augustin between the original
nature of the first man while as yet disturbed by no moral schism,
and the nature of his posterity involved in this schism, could not
appear in the Pelagian system; for, according to the latter, human
unam gratiam tributam ; sed speciatim quo-
1 Hieronymus in epistola ad Ctesiphon- une ;
tidie per tempora, per dies, per momenta,
tem. Istiusmodi homines per liberum ar-
bitrium non homines propriz voluntatis,
sed Dei potentiz, factos se esse jactitant, qui
nullius ope indigent. Sciamus nos nihil
esse, nisi quod donavit, in nobis ipse ser-
vaverit. Joh. 5:17. Non mihi sufficit,
quod semel donavit, nisi semper donaverit.
Audite, queso, audite sacrilegum, (now if
the succeeding clause was really said of the
Pelagians, it would follow, that even the
Pelagians themselves had brought this dis-
puted point more clearly to consciousness :)
Si voluero curvare digitum, movere manum,
sedere, stare, etc.; semper mihi auxilium
Dei necessarium erit? This antithesis is
also distinctly set forth by Orosius: Non in
solo naturali bono generaliter universis
per atomas et cunctis et singulis ministrari.
Dicit enim scriptura, “ qui facit solem suum
oriri super bonos et malos.” At tu forte
respondes: Ordinem suum composita bene
natura custodit ; ac per hoc Deus, elementariis
semel cursibus constitutis, facit inde que facit.
Quid ergo de illa sententie parte, qu
sequitur, opinaris? . “Dat pluviam super
justos et injustos.” Utique qui dat, cum vult
dat, et ubi vult dat, vel dispensando dispos-
itam constitutionem, vel effundendo pro-
priam largitatem.—See Orosii apologia de
arbitrii libertate, ed. Havercamp. p. 607.
Compare also the language of the Roman
bishop Innocent cited above, p. 587.
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 607
nature has, in fact, in its spiritual and moral capacities, ever con-
tinued to be the same. All men find themselves, till they have per-
sonally sinned, in the same innocence in which Adam lived before
the first transgression. The Pelagians, like the older, particularly
_ the Oriental church-teachers, with whom they, in fact, more espe-
cially coincided, compare the state of the first man with that of an
innocent, inexperienced child ; only with this difference, that, as a thing
necessary in order to his preservation, his spiritual and corporeal pow-
ers were already unfolded to a certain extent. From this, the Pelagian
Julian would also explain the first transgression, and —as the interest
of his system required, in order to be able to represent the supposition
of such mischievous consequences of it to entire humanity as the more
untenable— would make it to appear an altogether trivial matter, the
disobedience of a thoughtless child, easily exposed to be carried away
by the allurements of sense. God gave the first man a command, for
the purpose of bringing him to a consciousness of his moral capacities
and of his freedom. ‘This command was a simple one, as the powers
of the infantile age demanded: he required of hima proof of childlike
obedience.!_ But inexperienced and thoughtless, as he had not yet
learned to fear, nor seen any example of virtue,” he allowed himself to
be enticed by the agreeable aspect of the forbidden fruit, and to be
determined by the persuasion of the woman. ‘This excitement of con-
cupiscence was, in itself considered, nothing wrong: it belongs to man’s
sensuous nature, which he has in common with the brutes, and it more-
over proceeds from the Creator himself. It was only the act of allow-
ing the will to be led wrong, and, in compliance with the solicitations of
sense, transgressing the divine command, which is to be called sin.
Augustin, on the other hand, conceived that there was this great dif-
ference between the state of the first man, and all that followed him,
that he lived in undisturbed communion with God, for which he was
destined ; that, by this circumstance, all the powers of his nature were
enhanced ; the higher and the lower working together in perfect har-
mony. ‘The human body was not, it is true, as yet equal to the glorified
body which we are to receive after the resurrection ; but, inasmuch as
no schism as yet existed in human nature, it was, without resistance,
the subservient organ of the soul, governed and directed by the Spint
of God; and man, if he had remained true to the divine will, would
have passed immediately, without the violent transition of death, to a
higher, unchangeable, and imperishable existence. ‘Thus, according to
the views of Augustin, the importance of the first transgression did
not lie in the outward character of the act, in itself considered, nor
in the kind of object to which it referred. Augustin, as a moral
teacher, generally possessed this great merit, as we have already re-
marked on other occasions, that he took his stand against the quantita-
tive estimation which contradicts the true standard of morality, and
gave prominence rather to the essential thing of the disposition. The
1Interdictu unius pomuli testimonium 2 Rudis, imperitus, incautus, sine experl-
devotionis expetitur. mento timoris, sine exemplo justitie.
8 Contr. Julian. opus imperfect. IV. 38.
608 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
magnitude of the guilt consisted precisely in this, that man, when he
was not as yet living in the moral bondage under which his posterity
suffer, transgressed with free-will the law of God. The explanation of
the fact from the solicitations of sense, Augustin could not admit. Such
a temptation implied already the inward corruption: such a conflict
between the flesh and the spirit could not arise in that seat of peace.
The will of man, subordinated to the divine will, kept even the senses
in obedience as organs subservient to the soul. It was only after man,
by the inward act, by the opposition of selflove, of self-will against the
divine will, had fallen from the latter,— and so, in consequence of this,
the cause of all other discord had made its appearance,— that the
seductions of sense could lead him astray to transgression of the divine
law.!. Hence it was that the discord now extended itself into all parts
of human nature ; hence all physical and moral evils, and death as the
punishment of sin. All this was transmitted from the first man to his
posterity. As, in the first man, the love of self, which appeared in op-
position to the divine will, is the source and principle of all sm — so is
it also in the case of the whole race. First from this proceeds concupis-
cence, striving contrary to the law of reason ; and on account of this
conflict, which the Pelagians regarded as something inseparable from
the human organism, and therefore, in itself considered, excusable,
Augustin called it sinful. It was not sense, in itself considered, but
the power which sensuous desires, of whatever kind, exercised over the
spirit of man, destined for a higher kind of life, the conflict between
the sensual and the spiritual, which appeared to him to be a conse-
quence of that original schism, and as something sinful— it was this
that he understood under the term “concupiscence.’’? But his eleva-
ted mind, longing after the free life of the spirit, was also inclined to
see in every sensual desire affecting the man, in so far as it redacted
upon the soul, disturbing and checking it in its pure spiritual life, a
mark of that selfprocured bondage.? As Augustin started from the
ideal of a reason ruling over sense, and, in everything that stood op-
posed to this natural supremacy, beheld a manifestation and a result of
that internal schism, it was accordingly an unjust charge laid against
him by the Pelagians, when they accused him of holding, like a Mani-
chean, that the flesh and its affections are sinful in themselves, and
proceed from an evil principle. ΤῸ Julian, who derived the power of
the sinful desires from nature, which man had in common with the
brutes, Augustin replied, that man, in the following respect, could not
be compared with the brutes: in the case of the latter, there could be
no conflict between the flesh and spirit; but man was bound to govern
his sensuous nature by the spirit. That, through the power of his sen-
guous impulses not dependent on his reasonable will, he had come to be
1 Jn paradiso ab animo ccepit elatio, et ad
preceptum transgrediendum inde consensio.
Augustin. c. Julian. 1. V. § 17.
2 Not the sentiendi vivacitas, but the libi-
do sentiendi, que nos ad sentiendum, sive
consentientes mente sive repugnantes, appe-
titu carnalis voluptatis impellit, c. Julian. 1.
IV. § 66.
3 Quis autem mente sobrius non mallet,
si fieri posset, sine ulla mordaci voluptate
carnali, vel arida sumere alimenta, vel hw
mida, sicut sumimus hec aéria 7
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 609
on a level with the brutes, is the very consequence of that first schism
between the human and the divine will.}
But now Augustin supposed, not only that this bondage under the
principle of sin, by which sin is its own punishment, was transmitted by
. the progenitor of the human race to his posterity ; but also that the
first transgression, as an act, was to be imputed to the whole human
race, — that the guilt and the penalty were propagated from one to all.
This participation of all in Adam’s transgression, Augustin made clear
to his own mind in this way: Adam was the representative of the
whole race, and bore in himself the entire human nature and kind in
the germ, since it was from him it unfolded itself. And this theory
would easily blend with Augustin’s speculative form of thought, as he
had appropriated to himself the Platonico-Aristotelean Realism in the
doctrine of general conceptions, and conceived of general conceptions
as the original types of the kind realized in individual things. Further-
more, his slight acquaintance with the Greek language, and his habit
of reading the holy scriptures in the Latin translation, led him to find a
confirmation of his theory in a falsely translated passage of the epistle to
the Romans, 5 : 12.4 It may indeed be a question, whether, even if he
had had access to the New Testament in the original language, his doc-
trinal prejudices would not have deprived him of the sense to discern the
simple meaning of that passage. But, at all events, the influence of Au-
gustin’s peculiar philosophical form of thought, as well as the influence
of his narrow principles of exegesis, on the formation of this doctrine,
should not be rated too high; for his whole mode of apprehending the
matter had a still deeper ground in his Christian consciousness.
Pelagius and his followers, on the other hand, denied all those phy-
sical and moral consequences of the transgression of the first man on
the entire race, which had been asserted by Augustin. The imputation
of another’s guilt conflicts with the justice of God ; the propagation of
guilt conflicts with the idea of sin and of free-will; sin is not a thing
of nature, but only self-determination of the free-will ; hence it cannot
be transmitted from one to another. ‘‘ Even the individual,” says
Julian, ‘‘ cannot, by means of a simple transgression, suffer a change in
his moral nature; he retains the same freedom of the will; the past
sin no longer injured the first man, when he had repented of it. How,
then, was it possible that the entire human nature should be corrupted
thereby ? The proposition of Augustin, that sm punished itself by
moral bondage, that sinfulness was at one and the same time the foun-
tain of other sins and the penalty of sin, this proposition was so far from
being intelligible to Julian, that he looked upon it as blasphemy, —
as if God punished sin, by plunging men into still other sins.° The
1 Fatere secundum Christianam fidem,
etiam istam esse hominis peenam, quod com-
paratus est pecoribus insensatis et similis fac-
tus estiis. Carnis concupiscentis homini est
pena, non bestiss, in qua nunquam caro
adversus spiritum concupiscit. Opus im-
perfect. c. Julian. TV. 38.
2 Propagatio reatus et poense.
8 ἘΠ g. de peccatorum meritis et remis-
sione,]. III. ο. 7. In Adam omnes tune
peccaverunt, quando in ejus natura, illa
insita vi, qua eos gignere poterat, adhuc
omnes ille unus fuerunt.
4 The phrase, in quo omnes peccaverunt,
where he refers the in quo to Adam.
δ See 6. Julian. op. imperfect. IV. ο. 5.
610 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
Pelagians would only admit that Adam had injured his posterity by his
example ; and in this way they explained all those passages in the New
Testament which speak of a connection between the first transgression
and the sins of the entire race. But, as it regards physical evils and
death, Pelagius and his followers, especially Julian, who explained and
unfolded this view, endeavored to show, that all this had from the be-
ginning been implanted by the Creator in the essence of man’s physical
organization, and that, by the destination and historic development of
human nature, it could not be otherwise. Pelagius understood those
passages in the epistle to the Romans which speak of death as the pun-
ishment of sin, as referring to spiritual death.”
The question concerning the propagation of a sinful nature would
easily connect itself with the question which had been so much dis-
cussed since the times of Tertullian and Origen, respecting the origin
and propagation of souls. We have seen already how Ccelestius availed
himself of this connection for the purpose of removing both the questions
from the whole province of matters pertaining to the interest of faith
and of church doctrine, and to place them in tke category of subjects
where a difference of opinion might exist without infringing on the unity
of faith. On the other hand, Augustin sought, in this case, to separate
that which was important as doctrine, that which was securely grounded
in the teachings of sacred scripture and in’ the connected system of
Christian truth, from that which was rather matter of speculation, and
on which seripture gives no certain decision. He was not to be moved
from the conviction that sin and guilt had spread from the first man to
all, and he was equally sure that every scheme which conflicted with
this presupposition could not be otherwise than false. But yet he did
not venture to decide, whether Creationism or Traducianism was to be
adopted as the true theory ; although he was well aware what advan-
tages the latter theory would give to his own system, and although this
same theory, since the time of Tertullian, had by many in the Western
The deep passage in Rom. I. 28, concerning
equally easy for Augustin to expose the
the action and reaction of moral and intel-
idleness of that explanation of the whole
lectual blindness, which Augustin had ad-
duced in proof of his proposition, this pas-
sage Julian was so little prepared to under-
stand, that he did not hesitate to explain
away the whole depth of the thought by
the supposition of a hyperbolical metonymy.
To express his abhorrence of such sins, the
apostle had said, as it were: Non tam reos
_ quam damnatos sibi tales videri. Yet Au-
gustin was enabled to show Julian, that the
latter himself had been obliged to say
something similar to the thought, which in
another form he found so revolting, quoting
the words of Julian: Justissime enim 510]
bonus homo et malus committitur, ut et
bonus se fruatur et malus se ipse patiatur.
C. Julian. 1. V. § 35.
1Jt had been easy for Julian to refute
Augustin’s explanation of the ἐφ 'ῳ, and to
show that it should be understood in the
sense of propter quod; but it had been
sense, by which it was made to refer simply
to the example given by Adam. C. Julian.
1. VI. § 75. The apostle—Julian sup-
posed — mentioned Adam alone, and not
Adam and Eve together, though both had
sinned, on purpose that men might have
their minds directed solely to the effect of a
given example, and not to a propagation of
sin by generation. C. Julian. op. imperfect.
11. 56.
2On Rom. 5: 12, Pelagius says: Nune
apostolus mortem anime significat, quia
Adam przvaricans mortuus est, sicut et
propheta dicit: Anima que peccat, ipsa
morietur. Transivit enim et in omnes hom-
ines, qui naturalem legem preevaricati sunt.
How important he considered it, that the
matter should be so understood appears
from a remark on Rom. 8: 12: Manifeste
nunc ostendit, quia non de communi et
naturali morte superius fecerit mentionem
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 611
‘church been combined with the doctrine of the propagation of a sinful
nature. Probably he was deterred, by the apprehension lest he might
fall with Tertullian into sensuous representations of the nature of the soul,
from decidmg in favor of a theory which in other respects must have
been so inviting to him. On the other hand, he doubtless perceived
also the difficulties which Creationism left unexplained in his system of
faith. The reason which Jerome advanced in favor of this view, drawn
from the never-resting but continually operating creative agency of God,
according to John 5: 17,1 appeared to him to be no sufficient evi-
deyce ; for he could allege, on the contrary, that, in the case of all pro-
pagation in nature, the continual creative agency of God was, in like
mauner, presupposed.2 Sacred scripture appeared to him to furnish
a certain warrant for no particular scheme whatever ; and accordingly
he ended with confessing his ignorance — a confession which, to ἃ man
of his speculative intellect, must assuredly be an instance of great self-
denial. ‘‘ Where scripture gives no certain testimony,” he argued,
“human presumption must beware how it decides either in favor of
one side or the other. If it were necessary for man’s salvation to
know anything on these points, the scripture would be more explicit on
them.”’ ὃ
Although the Pelagians denied that there was any such thing as
hereditary corruption of human nature, yet they agreed with Augustin
in recognizing the maxim of experience, that sim in humanity continu-
ally acquired greater dominion; they adopted the opinion of a progres-
sive deterioration of mankind; and upon this they argued the necessity -
of counteracting influences by the various revelations of God, and the
various means of grace which God had employed. . This deterioration
they explained, as in the case of humanity at large, so in the case of
individual men, from the force of bad customs, by means of which, evil
had become a second nature. Yet, at the same time, since human
nature comes into the world in its original purity, and no foreign prin-
ciple dwells within it ; this phenomenon, of which experience testifies,
is nothing but an accident. There may be exceptions from this general
rule: persons, who by developing the powers of their moral nature by
1 See Hieronymus contra errores Joannis
Hierosolomytani, vol. 1V. ed. Martianay, f.
310.
2 De anima et ejus origine, 1. I. ὁ 26.
Ipse quippe Deus dat, etiamsi de propagine
dat.
8 De peccatorum remissione, 1. II. § 59.
A young man in Mauretania Cesariensis,
Vincentius Victor, was displeased with this
confession of ignorance on the part of so
eminent a church-teacher as Augustin. He
wrote against him a work, in which, profess-
ing with his limited understanding to com-
prehend everything, he uttered many absurd
and obscure things; and he had the bold-
ness to apply to Augustin the words of Ps.
48: 13, according to the Vulgate: Homo
in honore positus non intellexit; compara-
tus est pecoribus insensatis et similis factus
est illis. Augustin says to him, in the work
which he composed in refutation of this
production, de anima et ejus origine (I. I.
§ 26:) Istum autem non ego vicissim, quasi
rependens maledictum pro maledicto, pecor-
ibus comparo; sed tanquam ftilium moneo,
ut quod nescit se nescire fateatur, neque id
quod nondum didicit, docere moliatur.
4 Epistola ad Demetriadem, c. 8. Longa
consuetudo vitiorum, que nos infecit a par-
vo paulatimque, per multos corrupit annos,
et ita postea obligatos sibi et addictos tenet,
ut vim quodammodo videatur habere natu-
re. Accordingly they explained the pas-
sage concerning the law in the members
(Rom. VII.) as referring to this influence
of bad habits. See the words of Pelagius
in Augustin. de gratia Christi, §43, and of
Julian in the opus imperfectum, l. I. ο, 67.
612 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
virtue of their free-will, have lived to the end in perfect holiness. In
his public declarations, (see above,) Pelagius, it is true, would never
express himself distinctly on this point ; but, in his commentary on the
epistle to the Romans, he says, remarking on the passage in 5 : 12, the
word ‘all’? is to be understood here as referring only to those who
had sinned like Adam, and not to such as Abel, Isaac, and Jacob:
the apostle says all, because, compared with the multitude of sinners,
the few righteous amount to nothing. In his work on the free- will, he
cited many examples of men and women from the Bible ; and, availing
himself of the already predominant superstitious veneration of Mary, he
argued from her example, who was to be denominated sinless, that she
must have been perfectly righteous.! In other times, he thought,
when the number of mankind was already large, it would doubtless
have been impossible to enumerate the sins of every individual ; and we
should not be authorized therefore to infer their non-existence, from
their not being mentioned. But the case was different with the first
beginning of the human race, when there were but four individuals in
existence : and then the book of Genesis mentions the sins of three
among the four ; but none of the fourth, namely, Abel. Hence it may
be inferred that he was without sin. By this conclusion we should
abide, and not assert what is not asserted in the sacred scriptures.? A
way of reasoning quite characteristic of Pelagius !
True, according to what has been above remarked, the fundamental
principle of Pelagianism would necessarily lead to the theory of a com-
plete development of humanity in harmony with nature within the
sphere of its laws, and to a denial of all interposition on the part of
God; but Pelagius and his friends ever remained strangers to this
further extension of their principles. Although the doctrine of God’s
supernatural communications had no such place in the Pelagian system
as it had in the system of Augustin, by reason of the doctrines system-
atically unfolded by Augustin respecting the relation of the creature
to the Creator, and respecting man’s corruption ; yet, even in the Pe-
lagian system, that doctrine found a point of attachment in the recog-
nition of a moral degeneracy of human nature in general and in its
idea, and of the truth that human nature, as a thing created, could and
should arrive at a degree of completeness and perfection, beyond the
measure of the capacities originally implanted in it by the Creator, by
free manifestations of the divine love. True, the Pelagians made no
such distinction and no such opposition between nature and grace as
1 Augustin. de natura et gratia contra
Pelagium, § 42. Quam dicit sine peccato
confiteri necesse esse pietati. As, however,
he could not prove from any declaration of
scripture that those whom he named were
to be represented as saints, he had recourse
to the singular argument: De illis, quorum
justitiz meminit (Scriptura sacra) et pecca-
torum sine dubio meminisset, si qua eos
peccasse sensisset.
2 Certe primo in tempore quatuor tantum
homines fuisse referuntur: peccavit Eva,
scriptura hoc prodidit; Adam quoque deli-
quit, eadem scriptura non tacuit; sed et
Cain peccasse, ipsa seque scriptura testata
est; quorum non modo peccata, verum etiam
peccatorum indicat qualitatem. Quod si et
Abel peccasset, et hoc sine dubio scriptura
dixisset; sed non dixit, ergo nec ille pecca-
vit, quin etiam justum ostendit. Credamus
igitur quod legimus, et quod non legimus,
nefag credamus adstruere. De natura et
gratia, § 44.
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 613
Augustin did; and masmuch as they did not hesitate to apply the latter
term to designate all communications of the love of God, they moreover
sometimes embraced together, under the general conception of ‘ grace,”
all the moral and spiritual powers which God has conferred on human
nature ; but they did not, on this account, by any means deny that
there were supernatural communications of the love of God, through
which there had been bestowed on man’s nature, what it never could
have attained by means of the powers communicated to it by creation ;
and they applied the term “‘ grace” to both, as well to God’s gifts em-
braced under that connection, as to those that went beyond it. Thus
they applied the notion grace to all the revelations of God in the Old
and in the New Testament, in the law and in the gospel. Sometimes,
too, they referred it solely to that which has been bestowed on mankind
by Christ ; as when Pelagius said, that the power of free-will is in
all, Christians, Jews, and Pagans ; but that in Christiars alone it is up-
held by grace! They supposed, in reference to the above-mentioned
counteracting influences of the divine means of salvation against the
moral degeneracy of mankind, different stages of righteousness : first,
the knowledge of God from reason and the law of right living, as it was
written, not in letters, but on the heart— the stage of righteousness
according to nature, (justitia ex natura ;) next, the revelation of the
positive law, designed to rekindle again the light of nature, which had
been darkened by corruption — righteousness under the law (justitia
sub lege.) But when the custom of sin became predominant, and the
law was inadequate to remove the evil, then came Christ himself to
heal the malady now become as it were desperate; and that, not by
means of his disciples alone, but by his own intermediate interposition.?
The Pelagian Julian, in defending himself against the charge that,
according to their opinion, the free-will sufficed for the worship of God,
says that although God as the Creator of the world might have been
known by natural reason, yet the latter was in no wise capable of
arriving, by itself, at the knowledge of the mysteries of faith, as, for
example, the doctrine of the Trinity, of the resurrection, and many
other similar doctrines.®
Julian insisted only, that between the revelation of God in the sacred
scriptures and the eternal truths which he had implanted in reason,
there could be no contradiction ; that in particular the sacred scrip-
tures could contain nothing which
1In omnibus est liberum arbitrium
gequaliter per naturam; sed in solis Christi-
anis juvatur a gratia. Augustin. de gratia
Christi, § 33.
2 De peccato originali, § 30.
8 Opus imperfect. ο. Julian. 1. IIT. ¢. 106.
It is well to notice the vague conception
which Julian had of the cultus Dei,— how
the ethical and dogmatic elements, the
moral act and a theoretical knowledge of
certain isolated maxims of faith, are here
placed together, without a hint of any
inward connection between the two, of any
central point in the inner life, out of which
VOL. I. 52
conflicted with the ideas of a holy
both proceeded. As Augustin’s conception
of “grace” was alien from him, it was
necessarily the case that the conception
would also be foreign from him of any such
higher unity as a divine principle of life
bestows, in giving a new shape and direc-
tion to the entire religious and moral con-
sciousness. Julian’s words are: Cum enim
cultus Dei multis intelligatur modis, et in
custodia mandatorum, et in exsecratione
yitiorum, et in ordine mysteriorum, et in
profunditate dogmatum que de Trinitate,
vel de resurrectione, multisque aliis similibus
fides Christiana consequitur.
614 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
and just God, which was inseparable from the very sense of a divine
being. From the sacred scriptures, therefore, nothing could be proved
which was opposed to these universal and eternal ideas of reason ;
much rather, must all the difficulties and obscurities in single passages
be so explained as to harmonize with these ideas of God, which flowed
from the clear, collective contents of the sacred writings, and with those
rational ideas.!. Yet, in this fundamental principle, there was, in itself
considered, no pasontial difference between Julian and Augustin ; for
the inter’) too, would not admit that there was any real aniradh dtién
between faith and reason (fides et ratio.) At the same time, the
Pelagians would not have consented to the principle of Augustin re-
specting the way in which faith precedes reason, and the latter is
evolved out of the former.
Pelagius and his followers, in their doctrine concerning grace, were
par ticularly strenuous only in maintaining its opposition to any theory
which impaired the freedom of the will. They supposed all operations
of grace to be conditioned on the bent of the free-will, and all means
of grace to be effectual only according to the measure of the different
tendencies of will ;—— they denied all constraining influences of grace
on the free-will. Augustin, on the other hand, reckoned it as neces-
sary to the conception of grace, that it should exclude all merit; and
with this belonged, in his own view, all conditionmg of grace on the
different states of recipiency on the part of man. Just as soon as the
whole was not referred to God’s efficiency alone, just as soon as any-
thing was made to depend on the different ways in which men stood
related to the efficiency of God, the idea of grace is annihilated ; for
that which is bestowed on the ground of merit is no longer grace.
This point of the opposition, namely, to any and every theory which
impaired the free-will, was the only one which the Pelagians here
brought prominently to view; but, in fact, their opposition doubtless
carried them still further. They were in strictness really inclined,
whenever they designated the supernatural by the term grace, to under-
stand thereby simply outward revelations, communication of certain spe-
cific knowledge which transcended the powers of natural reason. More
foreign to them was the notion of an internal communication of divine
life, of an internal influence of God on man’s will and consciousness.
‘ Although, among their manifold and vague declarations respecting the
‘term grace, they also said a great deal which bordered on that last-
1Jn the first book of the opus imperfec-
tum, Julian says: Nihil per legem Dei agi
potest contra Deum legis auctorem. By
this unum compendium, every assertion
firmatur. In another passage, Secundum
id quod et ratio perspicua et aliorum loco-
rum, in quibus non est ambiguitas, splendor
aperuerit. In another place, 1. Il. ec. 144,
which conflicted with the recognition of
God’s holiness or justice could be at once
set aside. Correct interpretation must serve
to solve any such apparent contradiction ;
for wherever anything really contradictory
appeared, it ought to be rejected as not
belonging to the sacred scriptures. Am-
bigna queque legis verba secundum hoc
esse intelligenda, quod absolutissimis scrip-
ture 5. auctoritatibus et insuperabili ratione
he makes the recognition of the scriptures
as holy, to rest, not on outward tradition,
but on their agreement with reason and
with the essence of the Christian faith, and
on the morality of their contents: Sanctas
apostoli esse paginas confitemur, non ob
alind, nisi quia rationi, pietati, fidei congru-
enies erudiunt nos, et Deum credere invio-
labilis eequitatis et praeceptis ejus modera-
tionem, prudentiam, justitiam vindicare.
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 615
mentioned character of the Augustinian conception, and although they
never stood forth in a distinct and clearly conceived opposition to it ;
still, however, the thought may have floated before them, that, by the
concession of any such internal influence of God whatever, the free-will
of man would be impaired. Had they believed that they might really
agree with Augustin in acknowledging this character without altering
their difference in respect to the doctrine of free-will, it would in truth
have been so natural for them distinctly to express this, as Augustin
often attacked them on this very point, that, even though they acknowl-
edged a supernatural revelation and communication of knowledge, we:
must suppose they denied this peculiar characteristic. But in such
cases they always retreated under the cloud of a multitude of vague
references to the means of grace, by which the free-will was upheld,
for the purpose of showing, by this exuberance of expressions, how very
far they were from denying “grace.” ‘‘God upholds us,” says
Pelagius,! “ by his instructions and his revelation ; by opening the eyes
of our heart; by revealing to us visions of the future life, that we may
not be carried away with the things of the present ; by discovering to us
the arts of the adversary ; by enlightening us by means of various and
ineffable gifts of the heavenly grace.” ? The very important passage
in favor of the Augustinian doctrine in Philipp. 2 : 13, ‘ It is God that
worketh in us to will and to do,” Pelagius* explains as meaning only,
“(6 works in us to will what is good and holy, when he consumes what
is offered to our earthly desires by the greatness of the future glory and
the promise of rewards, when he excites the prayerful will to longing
after God by the revelation of his wisdom, when he counsels us to all
goodness.” Thus Julian also says, that God helps“by commanding,
blessing, sanctifying, chastising, inviting, enlightening.‘
On the other hand, Augustin sets forth prominently, only that one
character on which all depends. The revelation of the law can, in’
itself considered, give man no help, as he wants the power to fulfil the »
law. The revelation of the law could only serve to awaken in him
the feeling of the need of the grace, whereby alone he could acquire the
power to fulfil the law. Love is the fulfilling of the law; but the love
of God comes not from the law, but is shed abroad in our hearts by the
Holy Ghost.6 Only in so far could Augustin apply his conception of
grace, which he denominated the peculiarly Christian conception, to all
that the Pelagians said concerning revelation and divine instruction,
as these terms were supposed to denote, not merely the conception of
an-outward revelation and outward instruction by the written word,
but an internal revelation by the inward working of God on the inner
life and consciousness of man, a living knowledge and recognition of
the matter revealed, proceeding out of a new divine life.®
1JIn Augustin. de gratia Christi, c. VII. 5 Proinde per legem gratia demonstratur,
2Dum nos multiformi et ineffabili dono ut lex per gratiam compleatur.
gratiz coelestis illuminat. 6 Hac gratia, si doctrina dicenda est, certe
8. 10. sic dicatur, ut altius et interius eam Deus
4 Opus imperfect. III. 114. Pracipiendo, cum ineffabili suavitate credatur infundere
benedicendo, sanctificando, coércendo, prov- per se ipsum. De gratia Christi, ¢. 14
ocando, illuminando.
616 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
Connected with this difference in respect to the doctrine concerning
grace, was another in respect to the doctrine concerning Christ as the
Redeemer of mankind, and respecting the redemption. The negative
reference of the work of redemption must, it is true, in the Pelagian
system, have been restricted to a narrow compass ; since no such cor-
ruption of the entire human nature, as according to Augustin’s doctrine
flowed from the transgression of {- first man, was here. admitted. But
stil], even in this system, the redemption might be held as set over
against the above-mentioned gradual deterioration of man and the force
of habit ; and in this case the Pelagians needed only to adopt here, as
they did elsewhere, the views peculiar to the Oriental church. In the
latter, redemption was contemplated, not alone as a restoring of the
corrupted human nature to health and freedom, but still more as an
exalting, ennobling, and transfiguring of the imperfect, limited human
nature to a condition beyond the point at which it was placed by the
original creation, and beyond the powers which were then bestowed on
it. And so the Pelagians did actually suppose, that the human nature
which God created good originally, was by Christ made still better ;—
raised to a higher stage of advancement, which consists in Sonship to
God ; furnished with new powers ; and assured of a state of felicity
resulting from adoption into the kingdom of God, to the attainment of
which the powers of nature are inadequate.1 At the same time, how-
ever, this notion of the exaltation and renewal of human nature through
Christ could not, in the Pelagian system, be apprehended in all its
depth ; and, as we have seen, the idea of a communication of divine life
through Christ had no place in this scheme of doctrine.
In the Pelagian system, Christ appears as the divine teacher, who
reveals truths to the knowledge of which human reason could not by
itself have attamed. In his precepts and life, he revealed the most
perfect system of morals: he gave to all the most perfect pattern of
holiness.2,_ As the Pelagians held that Adam had injured his posterity
by the first example of sin in humanity, so now they opposed to this the
perfect example of virtue given by Christ.2 But we must allow, that,
according to the Pelagian system, no exclusive merit could really be
pointed out as belonging in this case to Christ ; for, according to this
system (see above, p. 611,) there were even before Christ, persons
who perfectly kept the moral law. The Pelagian Julian, therefore,
found no other way of getting along here, than by supposing a differ-
ence of degree ; maintaining that Christ, though he had not given the
first, had yet presented | the highest pattern of righteousness 4—a mode
of expression to which none but such illogical thinkers as the Pel agians,
could have resorted. And even in this case, in order to come at any
clear and distinct meaning, it is necessary to suppose that, according to
1 The words of Julian are: Christus, qui splenduit. Opus imperfectum, 1. IT. § 188.
est sui operis redemptor, auget circa imagi- 3 Sicut ille peccati, ita hic justitize forma.
nem suam continua largitate beneficia, et 4 Justitia forma non prima, sed maxima;
quos fecerat condendo bonos, facit innovan- quia et ante quam verbum caro fieret, ex ea
do adoptandoque meliores. Augustin. c. fide, qu in Deum erat, et in prophetis et
Julian. 1. 111. § 8. in multis aliis sanctis fulsere virtutes
2 Exacta in Christo justitis norma re-
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 617
the Pelagian doctrine, there was something still more perfect than the
mere fulfilment of the law, namely, works of moral perfection which
exceed the letter of the law,— something more than the ordinary?
human virtue, — such perfection as they imagined Christ alluded to in
the evangelical counsels, (consilia evangelica.) Furthermore, Christ
-ereated, and made known to those who believe on him, a state of per-
fect blessedness, respecting which they would have known nothing by
the light of natural reason, and to which it is impossible to attain, ex-
cept by the new means of grace which Christ has bestowed. In addi-
tion to these positive works of Christ, he also secured for the great
mass of mankind, very few indeed being excepted, the forgiveness of
their sins. By all these provisions, Christ supplied many new motives
to moral effort, bestowed on men a new power, to gain the victory over
the impulses of sense and the allurements of sin. ‘These new motives
are, for example, the hope of eternal blessedness on condition of obey-
ing Christ’s commands ; the example of Christ stimulating to imitation ;
gratitude for the obtained forgiveness of sin; and, above all, gratitude
for the great work of the Son of God in becoming man and giving his
life for men. It would be wronging the Pelagians to affirm that they
proposed fear of punishment and hope of heavenly rewards, as the only
motives to goodness ; as it might be supposed they did from some of
their assertions. Julian expressly mentions the return of love, enkin-
dled by the revelation of the love of God, and gratitude, as incentives
to new moral efforts ; he describes a stage of Christian attainment pro-
ceeding from such motives, at which Christians do good from pure love
to God and for goodness’ sake,—not for the sake of any outward
reward, — where they feel themselves happy in the practice of good
works even under sufferings. ‘‘ The fulness of the divirie love, which gave
things their existence,” says Julian, “ revealed itself in this, that the
Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us. When God required an
answering love on the part of those created in his own image, he showed
how he had done everything out of his ineffable love towards us, that
so we might finally love him in return, who evinced his love to us, in
that he spared not his own Son, but gave him up for us ; promising us
that, if from henceforth we would obey his will, he would make us joint-
heirs with his only-begotten Son.? This love to God enkindled in our
hearts is of such effect,—as Julian, who was himself conscious of a
willingness to suffer for the cause of Christ, rightly explaining and ap-
plying the passage in Rom. 5: 3, remarks,? — that we not only rejoice
in the hope of future blessings, but, in the possession of virtue, are
cheerful amidst sufferings ; that we consider the wrath of our persecut-
ors rather as‘trial of our patience than a disturbance of our joy; that
we not only refrain from sin for the sake of reward, but even count
freedom from sin as a reward in itself.”
It is clear from what has been said, that, so far as justification is
1 Similar to that distinction of the an- it is at variance with the principle of divine
cients between ἀρετὴ ϑεία and πολιτικῇ, humanity.
which indeed will not harmonize at all with 2 Opus imperfect. I. 94.
the essential character of Christianity, since 8. L.c. 1. 11. ο. 166.
VOL. II. 52*
618 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
understood in its objective and judicial sense, the Pelagians certamly
acknowledged this,! as also the sanctifying influence which faith in the
forgiveness of sin obtained by Christ must, through the awakening of
trust and love towards God, exercise on the heart of man, and so on the
whole direction of his life.?
But although the Pelagians set forth clearly and distinctly the out-
ward connection between Christ and believers, founded on what he had
once done and obtained for mankind and secured to them for the
future, still the inner connection between the two was placed by them,
as it could not fail to be according to the fundamental principles of
their theory, far in the back-ground. Augustin ever urges it as an
‘objection to their scheme, that they made the grace of Christ consist
solely in the bestowment of forgiveness ; that they left man, after he
had obtained this, to his own free-will, and did not acknowledge, that
even now his entire inner righteousness or sanctification is only the
work of Christ,— that the new principle of divine life which is the spring
of all goodness in believers flows from the union with him by faith.
The inner connection between Christ and believers, the thence resulting
justification or sanctification of man having its foundation in Christ,
this it was which Augustin distinctly held forth in opposition to the
~Pelagians. Only justification in that Augustinian sense was the sub-
ject of discussion in this controversy, and thus this controversy became
_one and the same with that concerning grace.*
Augustin represents the process of development of the moral and
religious life to be as follows: He distinguishes, according to Paul, the
letter of the law, which killeth, and the spirit, which maketh alive.? By
mere knowledge of the law as an imperative letter, disciplinary grace,
from which even the first motions towards goodness proceed, leads man
to the knowledge of his sins, to a consciousness that by his own power
he cannot fulfil the law; hence springs the feeling of the need of a
Redeemer, and so, faith in him. By faith, man not only obtains for-
giveness of sin, but also enters into the fellowship of the divine life with
the Redeemer ;— he attains to the grace whereby his soul is healed from
the malady of sin. With the health of the soul is restored back also the
free-will—as contradistinguished from that which till now was bound
in the service of sin. The will is once more the servant of righteous-
ness with free love. The divine life, which takes a specific form in
man, reveals itself in works of love. This is the spirit of the law,
which makes alive; the love shed abroad in the heart by the Holy
Ghost. |
.
1 As Julian declares, opus imperfect. II.
165, justificatio per peccatorum veniam.
2 Julian, (opus imperfect. II. 227,) rightly
explaining the sense of the apostle Paul,
says: Eo debetis servire Deo fidelius quo
liberalius. Peccatum quippe dominabatur
vobis, cum reatuum impendebat ultio;
postea autem quam gratia Dei beneficia
consecuti estis et depositis reatuum ponderi-
bus respirastis, ingenuo pudore commoniti
debetis gratiam referre medicanti.
8 This is what Augustin understands by
the term justificatio, a word which he does
not take in the same sense with the Pela-
gians.
* Augustin. de gratia Christi, §52. Eam
esse gratiam Dei per Jesum Christum, in
qua nos sua, non nostra justitia justos facit.
5 As for example, in the noble work de
spiritu et litera.
AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS. 619
From this flowed another difference between the two ways of think-
ing. As Pelagius generally sided, for the most part, with the system
of the Oriental church, and as the Greek church-teachers, owing to
their more enlarged historical views, were more particular in distinguish-
ing the different stages and periods in the divine education of man and
τὴ the development of revelation, so he separated, according to the
above-explained presupposition of a progressive deterioration of human
nature and of a progressive counteraction against it, the three periods:
1. Of righteousness in the state of nature; 2. Of righteousness‘ under
the law ; and 3. Of righteousness under grace. Augustin, on the con-
trary, could only admit that one and the same need of redemption, and
one and the same source of holiness, ever existed ; namely, grace,
which is obtained through faith; if not faith in the Saviour already
manifested, yet faith in him as promised. ‘‘ Even under the law, there
were those who stood, not under the terrifying, convicting, punishing
law, but under that grace which fills the heart with joy in what is good,
which heals it, and makes it free.’’ 1
Augustin was thus led to give prominence to the principle on which
the essential character and unity of everything Christian reposes,
namely, the divine life that springs from the consciousness of redemp-
tion ; and to mark with more precision the specific peculiarity whereby
the Christian life, Christian virtue, is distinguished from all other. In
the Pelagian system, on the contrary, there was nothing which enabled
one rightly to understand either the essential nature of regeneration
as the separating line betwixt two opposite positions of the moral life,
or the nature of the new Christian life grounded therein. While
Augustin thus pointed out the common centre of the religious and the
moral element in Christianity, and took his stand in opposition to the
separating of the doctrinal from the ethical element, in opposition to
the isolating and to the making outward of the ethical, the Pelagians
fell into the very error which was necessarily involved in the principles
of their scheme. From what has been said, the great merit of Augus-
tin is clearly apparent in bringing forward a system of ethics reduced
to a central point, belonging in common to it and to the Christian
scheme of faith. Augustin, in this respect, as also in others hereafter
to be mentioned, had, by his systematic method of apprehending Chris-
tianity, a more important influence on the history of the development
of the system of ethics in this period, than Ambrose of Milan, who is
not to be compared to him for systematizing skill and intellectual
depth ; though he acquired great celebrity in the history of this science
by his work De officiis, in three books.”
But there’ was something of error attached to those truths, which
Augustin placed at the head of all others. In precisely pomting out
1 De peccato originis, § 29. Non sub lege
terrente, convincente, puniente; sed sub
gratia delectante, sanante, liberante
2 This work is rather a collection of prac-
tical rules for the clergy, (hence its orivinal
title, De otticiis ministrorum,) drawn from
certain general maxims, than a systematic
development of Christian ethics. But the
work is entitled to the merit of having been
the first to apply the formal principles of
ethics, as treated by the ancient writers, to
the Christian system of morals, in that
peculiar modification of them which they
receive.
620 AUGUSTIN AND PELAGIUS.
the peculiar principle of the Christian life, and marking the opposition
between that which is Christian and that which is not Christian, since his
eye was fixed exclusively on the extreme points of this opposition, he
paid less attention to the manifold intermediate shades and points of
transition in practical life, the various combination of the factors by which
the conduct may verge even to the non-christian position. And hence
he was the means of bringing into vogue an unduly rigid and partial
method of judging the pomt of ethical development before the appear-
ance of Christianity. He very justly distinguishes the patriotism of the
ancients from that which is tobe called ‘ virtue,” in the genuinely Chris-
tian sense, and which depends on the disposition towards God, (virtus
from virtus vera;) but then he goes so far as to overlook altogether
what bears some relationship to the divine life in such occasional cor-
ruscations of the moral element of human nature, and to see in them
nothing but a service done for evil spirits or for man’s glory. He
contributed greatly, on this particular side, to promote in the West-
ern church the partial and contracted way of judging the ancient
pagan times, as opposed to the more liberal Alexandrian views of which
we still find traces in many of the Orientals in this period, and to which
Augustin himself, in the earlier part of his life, as a Platonist, had been
inclined. Still the vestiges of his earlier and loftier mode of thinking
are to be discerned in his later writings, where he searches after
and recognizes the scattered fragments of truth and goodness in the
pagan literature, (see below,) which he uniformly traces to the revela-
tion of the Spirit, who is the original source of all that is true and good
to created minds; though this is inconsistent with Ais own theory
respecting the total corruption of human nature, and with the particu-
larism of his doctrine of predestination.
The Pelagians appealed particularly to the splendid examples of
virtue among the Pagans, as proving what could be done by the moral
power of human nature left to itself, in opposition to the tenet of man’s
moral corruption. Augustin maintained, on the contrary, that as there
is no neutral ground between good and evil; as love to God is the
spring of all that is truly good, and self-love the principle of sin; as
that victorious principle of goodness which overcomes the opposing
selfishness of man’s nature can proceed only from faith ; so everything
which has not its root in faith is, of course, sin; and he refers for
proof to a passage of scripture which before his own time had been
misapprehended in the same way, and which afterwards very generally
received this false application—the declaration of the apostle Paul
in Rom. 14: 23, “ Whatsoever is not of faith, is sin” (omne quod
non ex fide, peccatum.)! From this Augustin argued, that the so-called
virtues of the Pagans were but seeming virtues. This proposition ap-
peared so absurd to Julian, who overlooked the principle of morality,
its internal unity and religious foundation,” that he could not sufficiently
1The Pelagian Julian seems to have respected actions done contrary to one’s
rightly perceived, from the connection of own conviction of duty. See Augustin. ¢,
the words in this passage, that it referred to Julian. IV. 24
an entirely different matter, and simply 2 In other respects, Julian was well aware
AUGUSTIN AND JULIAN. 621
express his surprise at it, and drew from it the strangest conclusions.
“Tf,” said he, “the chastity of the Pagans were no chastity, then it ἢ
might be said with the same propriety, that the bodies of unbelievers
are no bodies; that the eyes of the Pagans could not see; that the
grain which grew in the fields of Pagans was no grain.”!} Augustin
replied that moral goodness could not be contemplated in this isolated
way; but that, in the estimation of moral worth, the question turned on
the whole unity of the inner life, from which men’s actions proceed.
He referred to Matth. 6: 23, and said, The eye of the soul is the whole
bent of the inner man.2 He who seems to doa good action, but in
doing it does not propose to himself the end which true wisdom pre-
scribes for all human activity, sins by having the tendency of his inward
being estranged from that which constitutes man’s highest good.’ If
all actions are not judged according to this principle of temper and
disposition, then what really proceeds from a sinful disposition may ap-
pear to be a virtue, and sins may seem to be conquered by sins; but
virtue can never be realized in this way.
Julian betrays his own want of a profound understanding of the
principles of ethics, when he adduces this remark of Augustin in evi-
dence against him, and observes that if sin is overcome by means of
sin, how much more may sin be overcome by virtue, and how much
more must it be possible to lead a sinless life.’ He took no account
here, then, of the difference betwixt a true victory over sin, and
a mere outward check placed against certain outbreaks of the evil,
or the exchanging of one kind of sin for another kind, while the sinful
bent of the will continued to be the same. All true virtue, according
to Augustin’s doctrine, proceeds from Christian love, which refers
everything to God: nothing but the acts of this love is truly moral,
and all the cardinal virtues must therefore be reduced to love, and have
this for their animating principle. In whatever exhibits itself as virtue
without this ethical principle, Augustin recognizes, indeed, various nat-
ural gifts and qualities proceeding from the Creator, and also to be
ascribed to his grace, but nothing which answers to the Christian idea
of virtue.®
But then, although Julian recognized no intrinsic difference between
actions called virtuous from different points of view, yet at the same
that the morality or immorality of actions
must he judged, not by the outward act, but
by the direction of the will. Hoc operatur
foris jam ipsa justitia, quam intus voluntas
sancta concepit et peperit. Opus imperfect.
J. 79. But it might be true at the same
time, that, while he regarded the virtues as
being inner tendencies and properties of the
soul, he might still not be aware of their
higher internal unity, nor perceive their
inmost root in the one essence, which is the
moral disposition.
ATIC 97.
2 Oculus intentio, qua facit quisque, quod
facit, ]. ο. 28.
8 Quidquid boni fit ab homine, et non
propter hoc fit, propter quod fieri debere
vera sapientia precepit, etsi officio (opifici-
um, the outward action) videatur bonum,
ipso non recto fine peccatum est, |. c. 21.
* Compare what Schleiermacher says
(p. 21) on the conception of virtue, in op-
position to such a superficial view of the
matter.
5 Que per czeteras virtutes omnes diffun-
ditur dilectio Dei et proximi. De diversis
questionibus octoginta tribus. Qu. 61, § 4.
6 Dona Dei, sub cujus occultissimo judicio,
nec injusto, alii fatui, alii tardissimi ingenii
nascuntur, alii natura lenes, alii levissimis
causis ira facillima ardentes, alii vindictss
cupiditatem inter utrosque mediocres. C.
Julian. 1. TV. § 16.
622 AUGUSTIN AND JULIAN.
time, not departing here from the doctrine of the church, — since he
found eternal happiness, the happiness of the kingdom of heaven, prom-
ised in the New Testament only to believers, — he fell into the inconsis-
tency of making an outward distinction between two kinds of virtue and
of good works grounded on the results flowing from them: one kind,
the Christian, on account of the reward connected with them, were
good in a fruitful,-—the other, from a want of these rewards, were
good in an unfruitful way.1 And at the ground of this view lay, in
fact, the notion that religion stood in a mere external relation to moral-
ity, and that the future reward or happiness was related in an outward
and arbitrary manner to man’s life and conduct. Augustin very justly
exposed this inconsistency, and observed that whatever is truly good
can never be unfruitful, that the result must necessarily correspond to
the intrinsic character and quality of human actions.
Yet the Pelagians might have been able, on their own principles, to
make out a distinction between the ethical standing ground in Chris-
tianity and that in Paganism, if the systematic apprehension of the
ethical element, in its connection with the religious, had not lain too
remote from their ordinary habits of thinking; for as they derived the
existence of peculiar motives and a peculiar direction of moral conduct
from the nature of Christian faith, they needed only to carry out and
apply this principle still farther, in order to find such a difference ; and
indeed Pelagius himself remarks, that love, which does everything for
the glory of God, is a thing to which the ancient world was a stranger.”
Conformably with the manifold stages through which, according to
the system of Augustin, disciplinary grace conducts the evolution of
the divine life in human nature, that grace must receive many specific
desiynations. In so far as grace, preceding all merit in man, first at-
tracts the corrupt will of him who is like all others in a state of aliena-
tion from God, and with an inner irresistible necessity produces in him
the first motions to goodness, awakens him to a feeling of the need of
redemption and to faith, it is called prevenient, preparing grace (gratia
preeveniens, preeparans.) It now proceeds to create in him, by faith,
a free-will to that which is good, (gratia operans;) but this is not a
change whereby man lays aside at once his entire nature, and is raised
above all conflict with sin. There still ever continue to remain in him
two principles in conflict with each other: in so far as he is born of God,
lives in fellowship with Christ, he sins no more; but in so far as he
bears within him the old nature, derived from the first fallen man, sin
still continues cleaving to him.* Hence he ever continues to need *the
grace which upholds the restored free-will, codperating grace, (gratia
codperans, ) to bring forth that which is good, and to be carried victo-
riously through the struggle with sin. Although Augustin referred the
1 Fructuose and steriliter bona. (for assuredly we have no reason for suppo-
2 Sufferunt et philosophi, sed non in cari- sing these words to be an addition of Cassi-
tate. Nos vero non ut landari, sed ut ille odor’s.) On.Ephes. 4: 2.
quem-sustinemus proficiat [to the honor of 3 See 6. g. de perfectione justitiz hominis,
him whom we bear] (perhaps bear within §39. ᾿
us, represent) diligentes sustinere debemus, 4 Codperando perficit, quod operando in-
,
AUGUSTIN AND JULIAN. 623
explanation of the fact why it was that grace, although it had the
power, yet brought no one in this present life to a state of perfect sin-
lessness, to God’s incomprehensible counsels, still he offered the follow-
ing as reason which appeared to him not improbable. So long as min
has not attained, as he will do in the life eternal, to an intuition of the
supreme good, so that in comparison with it he counts himself as alto-
gether nothing ; so long as he is not so filled with its spirit, that not
barely from rational conviction, but also with eternal love, he prefers it
to his own self;1 so long as this condition is left unfulfilled, man 15
ever exposed to the danger of pride, which may so much the more
easily fasten on the self-contemplation of the rational spirit, because this
is, in fact, far loftier than all else in the earthly creation. or this rea-
son, man must guard against this by constantly struggling with himself.
To this Julian might object, that Augustin reasoned in a circle, when
he said man must still continue in sin in order to be preserved against
sin, viz. the sin of pride.? But Augustin, in reply, appealed to expe-
rience — to the fact that the apostle needed to have the thorn left in
his flesh as an admonition to humility. He uses an illustration drawn
from the healing art: ‘‘ As if the ulcer were not painful, and the op-
eration of the knife painful also, so that one pain is cured by another.
Had we not learned this by experience, but only heard of it in some
country where operations of this sort were unknown, we should doubt-
less ridicule the idea, and perhaps say in his own words, It is most
absurd that pain should be necessary to stop an ulcer from being
painful.”’ 3
As man, then, continues ever to be exposed in this present life, by
reason of this unceasing conflict, to the danger of falling again, he ac-
cordingly needs, in order to attain salvation, the grace which can
enable him victoriously to persevere to the end of the conflict ; and, in
reference to this, Augustin denominates grace by the title of donum
perseverantiz. This perseverance alone is the certain mark of the
elect.
4 This doctrine concerning grace, with all its determinate forms as here
unfolded, stood necessarily connected with the doctrine of absolute
predestination. And if this doctrine was so taught and preached, it
was liable to the imputations which the Pelagians repeatedly brought
against it: that Augustin introduced, under the name of grace, a cer-
tain fatalism, (fatum;) that he absolutely denied the free-will belonging
to the essence of man’s nature; that he annulled all the conditions of
a righteous judgment of God. In respect to free-will, Augustin ever
cipit. Ipse ut velimus operatur incipiens,
qui volentibus codperatur perficiens. De
gratia et libero arbitrio, § 33.
putat, peccatum fuisse, ne peccatum esset,
quoniam et ipsa superbia utique peccatum
est. [,. 6. § 30.
1 Quamdiu non videt sicut videbit in fine
summum illud et immutabile bonum, in
cujus comparatione se spernat, sibique illius
caritate vilescat, tantoque spiritu ejus im-
pleatur, ut id sibi non ratione sola, sed
geterno quoque amore preponat. C. Julian.
IV. 28.
2 Absurdissimum quippe et stultissimum
3 Quasi non et ulcus in dolore est, et sec-
tio dolorem operatur, ut dolor dolore tolla-
tur. Hoc siexperti non essemus et in ali-
quibus terris, ubi ista nunquam contigerant,
audiremus, sine dubio utique deridentes,
fortassis etiam verbis hujus uteremur et
diceremus: absurdissimum est, dolorem ne-
cessarium fuisse, ne ulceris dolor esset. L, c.
<
624 AUGUSTIN ON FREE WILL.
maintained, that as the law is not annulled by faith, but only fulfilled
by it, so free-will is not destroyed by grace, but the will is only made
truly free ; and he appealed to the declaration of Christ, that he only
whom the Son makes free is free indeed. But here, misled by the
ambiguity of the expression, he confounded together two different
conceptions ---- the conception of freedom, as a certain state and stage
of moral development, and of freedom as a certain faculty possessed
in common by all rational minds. Beyond question, Augustin gave a
more profound view of freedom in that former sense (this being con-
nected with his idea of grace as a principle of divine life,) than was
to be found in the Pelagian system. But it was not so with freedom
in the latter sense, which was properly the point in question in this
particular controversy. This, Augustin certainly denied to all the de-
scendants of fallen man; for, in fact, he did not allow to all men the
ability of attaining to that higher moral freedom. He considered this
ability as being not an inalienable possession of the rational spirit, but
a gift communicated, only by a special divine operation, to a certain
number of men. In respect to those who belong to this latter class,
it is improper to speak of a free self-determination im appropriating
what is bestowed on them by grace; since their wills are renewed by
inner necessity, through the almighty will of God. And as these latter
follow an irresistible influence from above, so the great mass of man-
kind, the servants of sin, follow an irresistible influence of a lower
kind. But at the same time Augustin maintained, that by the opera-
tion of grace the power of free self-determination was not destroyed;
contenting himself here with the idea of a freedom in appearance, of
a seeming freedom necessarily forming itself in the consciousness of
the creature ; inasmuch, namely, as the operations of grace unfolded
themselves after the form of the human nature, of the rational human
consciousness, in the form of self-determination outwardly and phenom-
enally presented. Hence man, though determined by a higher princi-
ple, transforming his will with irresistible power, which he follows in
harmony with the law of his nature, is yet not conscious of his will
having been subjected to constraint. In this sense he said, therefore,
that the operation of grace presupposed the free-will belonging to the
essence of reason; that, if man were not created in the image “of God,
he could not be susceptible of grace. Grace can act on man, not on
stones.”
It was an inconsistency in the Augustinian system, that, while he
unquestionably derived the first sin from man’s free self-determination,
he made everything else depend on an unconditional, divine predeter-
mination. He would have been logically consistent, if, following the
principle which had led him to this whole theory, he had derived the
1A thing which the Pelagians, too, did lian. 1.15. Non sicut in lapidibus insen-
not fail to censure. C.Julian. opus imper- satis, aut sicut in iis, in quorum natura
fect. I. 176. rationem voluntatemque non condidit, salu-
2 Neque enim gratia Dei lapidibus aut tem nostram Deus operatur in nobis. De
lignis pecoribusve preestatur; sed quia ima- peccatorum meritis et remissione, 1. II. ὁ 6
go Dei est meretur hanc gratiam. C. Ju-
THE MONKS OF ADRUMETUM. 625
conduct of Adam, like all other, from this unconditional predetermina-
tion. ‘This inconsistency was clearly exposed by Julian! But still
this was a noble inconsistency, which grew out of the victory of his
religious, moral feeling over the logical and speculative tendency of
his intellect. In this way, he could still hold fast, at one point, to the
holiness and justice of God, and to the free guilt of man; could re-
move the origin of evil from God, and push it back to the originally
present, truly free self-determining power of man. And by his suppo-
sition of the necessary and incomprehensible connection between the
first man and the entire race, this inconsistency is still obviated in his
own mind ; for as the act of the first man may be considered as the
proper act of every man, so, on this ground, the loss of the original
freedom is a loss for*which all are at fault.
This Augustinian system, which was constructed with so much dia-
lectical art, could be so handled, when set forth with the prudence,
wisdom, and dialectic skill of an Augustin, as to avoid the practically
mischievous consequences which might flow from it in its application to
life. Those who, like Augustin, had come into this system through the
whole evolution of their inner life, those in whom it had become wholly
fused with the fundamental experiences of their Christian consciousness,
those who had already attained to a certain inward peace and stability
of Christian life, might doubtless find in this system satisfaction and
repose. ‘The life in faith which they possessed — the consciousness of
a divine life—raised them above the doubts which might arise from
the reflection whether or no they belonged to the number of the elect.
But the case was different where this system was taught in a less pru-
dent and skilful manner, or where it came to such as were still involved
in many inward conflicts, and were liable to be disturbed by reflection
on their own state. Augustin could not fail to meet many such cases
in his own experience, and it is remarkable to observe the way in which
he disposed of them. From such cases he took occasion to unfold his
system still farther with reference to its practical application.
One of Augustin’s doctrinal and polemical dissertations, which re-
ferred to these disputes, his letter to the presbyter Sixtus, afterwards
Bishop of Rome,? having been circulated among the monks of a cloister
at Adrumetum, in the North-African province of Byzacene, produced
great excitement and agitation in the minds of many of these recluses.
This happened between the years 426 and 427. There came forward
individuals among them who derived practically mischievous conclusions
from Augustin’s doctrines concerning grace and predetermination. Qf
what use, said they, are all doctrines and precepts ? Human efforts can
avail nothing: it is God that worketh in us to will and to do. Nor is
it right to reproach or to punish those who are in error and who com-
mit sin; for itis none of their fault that they act thus. Without grace
they cannot do otherwise; nor can they do anything to merit grace.
1QOpus imperf. VI. 22. Unde tu nosti, in crimen, quod fatearis sine voluntate sus-
illud tantummodo justum fuisse, utin Adam ceptum ?
nisi voluntarium crimen non possit ulcisci, 2 Ep. 194, among the letters of Augustin
gi injustum esse non nosti, imputari cuiquam
VOL. Il.
626 AUGUSTIN TO THE MONKS OF ADRUMETUM.
All we should do, then, is to pray for them. Augustin, having been in-
formed of these disturbances by delegates from the cloister, and by a
_letter from the Abbot Valentine, addressed to the monks two books —
‘ one in which he more fully unfolded his doctrine concerning the rela-
tion of grace to free-will in opposition to Pelagianism (de gratia et
libero arbitrio) ; a second, in which he more distinctly explained that
doctrine on the side of its ‘practical bearings, and with reference to
those consequences which had been drawn from it (the work de correp-
tione et gratia). According to Augustin’s doctrine, unconditioned
predetermination is not an arbitrary act of God, whereby he bestows
everlasting happiness on men while loaded with all manner of sins ; but
a necessary intermediate link is the communication of grace. This is
the source of divine life in those that possess it; and it must reveal
itself by an inward impulse, in the bringing-forth of good fruits. But
then, even here, too, no limits can be fixed, where the divine agency
commences and ceases, and where the human begins and ends; both
proceed inseparably together. The human will, taken possession of by
divine grace, works that which is good with freedom, as a transformed
and sanctified will; and grace can only work through the will, which
serves as its organ. Hence Augustin says: ‘ He who is a child of
‘God, must feel himself impelled by the Spirit of God to do right; and,
having done it, he thanks God, who gave him the power and the pleas-
ure of so doing. But he who does not what is right, or does it not
from the right temper of love, let him pray God that he may have the
grace which he has not yet obtained.” By reason of the inner con-
nection which Augustin supposed between the first sin and the sin of
all mankind, as it has been above explained, he maintained that the |
individual cannot excuse himself on the ground of the general deprav-
ity, and that his sins are none the less to be imputed to him as his own
fault. Furthermore, God by his grace is, beyond question, able to op-
erate on the hearts of men, not only without our exhorting, correcting,
or reproving them, but even without our interceding for them. Beyond
question, all these second causes could produce the designed effect on
men only under the presupposition of divine grace, which operates
through human instrumentality, and without which all human instru-
mentality would avail nothing, and under the presupposition that the
men whom we would lead to salvation belong to the number of the
elect. But as God, however, often conveys his grace to men by means
of such instrumentality ; as no certain marks are given us in the pres-
ent life whereby it is possible to distinguish the elect from the non-elect ;
as we are bound, in the spirit of charity, to wish that all may attain to
salvation; so, assuming, in the spirit of charity, that God will use us as
his instruments to convert and bring to salvation these or those indi-
viduals, who at present are living in sin, we are bound to employ all
those means that are in our power, leaving the result with God.
The way in which Augustin sought, in these writings, to secure his
system against misrepresentation, could not be suited to set those minds
at rest, whose Christian feelings had been'disturbed by what he had
said respecting the relation of divine grace and predestination to the
SEMI-PELAGIANISM. CASSIAN. 627
free-will ; but such persons must rather have found in this a still further
confirmation of their doubts. And as his system of faith, on this side,
agreed in nowise with the prevailing doctrinal way of thinking in the
Western church ; as, in the Pelagian and Augustinian systems, directly
opposite tendencies, which on different sides were at variance with the
demands of the universal Christian consciousness, stood in conflict
with each other ; it was natural that an intermediate and conciliatory
tendency between these two opposites should make its appearance.
This tendency proceeded more particularly from the cloisters of South-
ern France, Provence, and the adjacent islands. As its representative
and most influential organ appears, in the first place, an individual who
holds a very important place in the history of Western monachism, and
who enjoyed a high reputation in these districts — John Cassian. He
probably came from the country bordering on the Black Sea, (being
one of the so-called Scythian monks ;) and, after many travels in the
East, had at length turned his steps to Marseilles, where he became
the founder and abbot of a famous cloister. Without doubt, his early
and long residence in the Eastern church had had a decided influence
on his doctrinal bent; and perhaps in his predominant practical ten-
dency, in his disinclination to doctrinal speculations which attempted to
define too nicely on the questions here brought into controversy ; his
tendency to give prominence on these questions to the religious, moral
interest, and to refer everything more particularly to the love of God;
perhaps in all these traits we may discern the spirit of the great Chrys-
ostom, with whom he long.lived in the capacity of deacon, and whose
disciple he delighted to call himself! Cassian sought to grasp the
doctrines of religion with the heart, rather than with speculative and
systematizing thought. He counselled the monks, instead of studying
a multitude of commentaries on the sacred scriptures, to aim rather at
obtaining purity of heart. Nothing but the darkening of the under-
standing by sin caused what the Holy Spirit revealed to appear so ob-
scure to men; and it was because men sought not to come to the
knowledge of divine things with a purified sense, that so many false
doctrines had been foisted upon the holy scriptures.? Especially in
relation to the treatment of the doctrine of grace, he required that,
preserving in simplicity of heart the simple faith of the fishermen, men
should not receive it in a worldly spirit, with logical syllogisms and
Ciceronian eloquence, but should know that it could only be understood
by the experience of a pure life.? We might almost suppose that this
passage, in the mind of Cassian, contained a reproof of the (in his opin-
ion) too logical tendency of Augustin: it cannot be proved, however,
that he meant any such direct personal allusion.*
1 See Cassian. lib. VII. de incarnatione, dationem vitiorum carnalium detinere. In-
e. 31.
2 Monachum ad scripturarum notitiam
ertingere cupientem, nequaquam debere
abores suos erga commentatorum libros
impendere; sed potius omnem mentis in-
dustriam et intentionem cordis erga emun-
stitution. coenobial. 1. V. ¢. 33.
8 ZL. c. 1.12, ¢. 19.
4 In his work against Nestorius, which he
wrote at the commencement of the Nesto-
rian disputes, (de incarnatione Domini, 1.
VII. c. 27,) he calls Augustin “magnus
628 SEMI-PELAGIANISM.
s Cassian departed altogether from the Pelagian system by recognizing
the universal corruption of human nature, as a consequence of the first
transgression, and by recognizing ‘“ grace’’ as well as ‘ justification”
in the sense of Augustin. But the whole takes with him a different
turn, by its connection with the idea of a divine love, which extends to
all men, which wills the salvation of all, and refers everything to this;
even subordinating. the punishment of the wicked to this simple end.
The conflict of the flesh and the spirit is, indeed, a consequence of that
original schism; but this conflict is now made to subserve a salutary
purpose in the moral education of man, that so the soul, amid its many
struggles and efforts, necessitated to strive after moral purity, may
thereby be awakened to self-consciousness, and preserved from pride
and inactivity.1 It is, perhaps, with allusion to the Pelagian positions,
he says, in one passage of his institutions and rules of monastic life: 2
“We have to thank God, not only for having endowed us with reason
and free-will, and bestowed on us the knowledge of his law or the grace
of baptism, but also for the gifts of his daily providence ; that he de-
livers us from the snares of invisible enemies ; that he codperates with
us in enabling us to overcome the sins of the flesh; that he protects
us, even when we are unconscious of it, from dangers ; that he keeps us
from falling into sins; that he sustains and enlightens us; that he
teaches us to understand the law which he has given to help us ;° that,
by his secret influences, we are punished on account of our sins ; that
we are sometimes drawn to salvation even against our wills ; that finally
he draws our free-will itself, prone by its own inclination to what is
vicious and wrong, into the path of virtue.” Even in these remarks
we discern the whole peculiarity of Cassian’s form of doctrine ’on this
/matter. Isolated Christian experiences lie at the foundation of all
which he thus collects together ; and moreover all the marks and char-
* ‘acters of Augustin’s system are to be found here, excepting alone the
‘constraining influence of grace on the free-will. But Cassian brings
together isolated facts without logical order, and in a manner quite
remote from the systematic development of conceptions, such as we find
in Augustin.
In faith, too, he recognizes the communication of divine grace.4 He
constantly affirms the insufficiency of free-will for that which is good
without grace; that, without this, all human efforts avail nothing, all
willing and running of man is to no purpose; that it is vain to speak of
sacerdos;”—but this epithet’ must have
been given to Augustin after he became
distinguished in the Western church; yet it
says little, compared with those epithets
which he bestows on Hilary, Ambrose, and
Jerome.
1 Collat. ο. 7. ete.
2 Institutiones coenobial. c. 18.
8 Cassian says here, adjutorium nostrum,
quod non aliud quidam interpretari volunt,
quam legem ;— which words are manifestly
aimed against the Pelagians, Tillemont
wrongly supposes that he has discovered
here something bordering on the Pelagian
mode of expression, which €assian could
not have allowed himself to fall into, after
the above-named decisions of the Roman
bishops against the Pelagians. But this
mode of expression is, in its essential mean-
ing, so anti-Pelagian, that Augustin himself
might have approved of it. Cassian, in
fact, says here that it was only by the
inward enlightening inflrence of grace, the
law itself could be of any help to man
* Collat. III. c. 16.
CASSIAN’S DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 629
any proper merit or desert on the part of man, although the opera
tion of grace is ever conditioned on the free self-determination of the
human will; that, in many cases, there is moreover such a thing as pre-
venient grace. He especially labored, in his monastic colloquies, the
famous thirteen among his Collations, to unfold and explain what lay
scattered in the above-cited passages. Here also he speaks in the
same decided and emphatic manner against the two extremes, as well
the Augustinian denial of free-will, as the Pelagian infringement of
grace. In both these opposite tendencies he sees human presumption,
which would explore and define what is unsearchable to human reason.
He says here, free-will and grace are so blended and fused with each
other, that for this very reason the question has been much discussed
by many, whether free-will depends on grace, or grace on free-will;
and in answering this question in a presumptuous manner, men have
fallen into opposite errors. He affirms that this question does not ad- |
mit of a general answer suitable for all cases. He controverts as well |
those who wholly denied a prevenient grace, and made grace always.
dependent on man’s desert, as those who denied to the human will any
ability to create the germ of goodness by its own efforts, and who sup-
posed grace to be always prevenient. This question, he thought, could
not be settled by general conceptions, formed a priori, respecting
the modus operandi of grace ; but could be answered only according to
the various facts of experience, as they are brought to view in the
holy scriptures; though here, from want of more profound reflection,
he neglected to consider that this inquiry transcends the limits of ex-
perience and of the phenomenal world, the question relating to invisi-
ble motives and laws. Would any one assert that the beginning of
the good will always proceeds from man, the examples of Matthew the
publican and of Paul are against him. Would any one say, on
the contrary, that the beginning of the good will is always communica-
ted by divine grace, he must be embarrassed by the examples of Zac-
cheus, and of the thief on the cross, whose craving spirits, taking the
kingdom of God by violence, anticipated the special call of divine
grace. Against those who asserted the last, he endeavored to show ,,
that human nature had, by the fall, in nowise lost all its ability for good-
ness. Menshould take heed how they refer all the merits of the saints,
to God in such a sense as to assign nothing but what is bad to human
nature. Through the benevolence of the Creator, the seeds of all vir-
tue were by nature implanted in the soul ; but, unless excited by the help
of God, they would never germinate and grow up to maturity. Where
grace, then, permitted human striving, feeble as it was, to have the
precedence,” still it should be considered that what grace bestows on
man is far beyond all human desert : ὃ there is no comparison between
the two. He calls it profane to say, that grace is imparted only ac-
cording to human desert. While Augustin employed the declaration
of the apostle Paul in Rom. XI. concerning the unsearchableness of
1 Coliat. IV. ¢. 4, ete. and other places. 3 Gratia Dei semper gratuita.
2 Ne penitus dormienti aut inerti otio dis-
soluto sua dona conferre videatur.
VOL. II. oo"
ἵ
630 CASSIAN. PROSPER OF AQUITANIA.
the divine judgments, to prove the doctrine of the secret, uncondition
counsels of predestination; Cassian, on the other hand, referred it to
the manifold modes of the operation of divine love, controlling, direct-
ing, and bestowing its gifts in wisdom; and this he set over against the
dogmatic narrowness of heart —the presumptuous littleness of mind,
which would fix and determine everything according to one idea.
He who trusted he was able by his own reason perfectly to fathom. or
to express the ways which God takes for man’s salvation, contradicted
those words of the apostle, that God’s judgments and ways are unsearch-
able to men. The God of the universe so works all in all, as that he
excites the free-will, upholds and strengthens it, not so that he again
withdraws from man the free-will which he himself bestowed. If man’s
reason, and the induction of evidence, seem to have made out anything
which militates against these propositions, all this should much rather
be shunned, than countenanced to the destruction of faith.
Cassian’s opposition to the system of Augustin found great acceptance
among the monks and even the bishops of these districts.!_ Doubtless,
too, many of the monks had, of their own free impulse, without any
influencing cause from without, become opposed to the Augustinian
doctrine of election; individuals who subsequently attached themselves
to Cassian, as the most important man among them, on account of his
theological training ; for it may be gathered, from what Prosper reports
about them to Augustin, that all did not perfectly agree with Cassian
in their views respecting the disputed poits, though they agreed in
opposing the doctrine of absolute predestination.
When Augustin’s work de correptione et gratia arrived in Gaul,
these opponents of Augustin’s doctrine of predestination —whom for
brevity’s sake we will denominate Semi-Pelagians,” a name which came
into use at a much later period — perceived from it that those practi-
cally mischievous consequences which had ever appeared to them the
dubious thing in this doctrine, had actually been derived from them by
those African monks; but they were not at all satisfied with the manner
in which Augustin got rid of these consequences ; and hence they were
only the more fully confirmed in their own persuasions. Besides this
Semi-Pelagian party, there was, however, in this part of Gaul, a small
party also of enthusiastic admirers of Augustin, and devoted adherents
to his whole system of doctrine, to whom, though they perhaps recog-
nized the difference between Semi-Pelagianism and Pelagianism, yet
every doctrine which represented the operations of divine grace in
man as conditioned on man’s recipiency, appeared to be a denial of
grace proceeding from impious pride. At the head of this party stood,
at that time, an ecclesiastic by the name of Prosper, who, induced per-
haps by the desolations of war, had left his native country, Aquitania,
1 See Prosper’s letter to Augustin. wishing to designate them by this name, the
2'The Semi-Pelagians themselves were opponents of Pelagianism not admitting
far from applying to their sect any such that there was any middle ground. They
name as this, as they wished to have noth- looked upon Semi-Pelagianism as nothing
ing in common with the Pelagians; but but a mere off-shoot of Pelagianism.
their opponents, too, were very far from
¥. AUGUSTIN AGAINST SEMI-PELAGIANISM. 631
ind settled down in these parts. Amid the great and fearful revolutions
of this century, particularly in his own country, by which within a short
space of time the lot of whole nations as well as individuals was reversed,
he found consolation and repose in entire submission to God’s inscruta-
ble decrees, in renouncing all earthly hopes, and relying on God’s
“all-controlling grace ; and the great facts of that particular age in the
history of nations furnished him with abundant evidence in confirmation
of the doctrine of absolute predestination.! This Prosper, and his
friend Hilary, another warm admirer and zealous disciple of Augustin,
gaye him, each in a separate letter, an account of these movements
among the monks, and begged that he would come to the rescue of the
truth now assailed.
In reply to this request, Augustin wrote his two works, De preedestina-
tione sanctorum, and De dono perseverantiz. He expresses his astonish-
ment, that those persons were not to be convinced by the many plain and
express passages of sacred scripture respecting grace, which is always
denied, when it is made to depend on human desert. Yet he is at the
same time just enough to admit, that, by acknowledging original. sin,
the insufficiency of the faculty of free-will for all good, and prevenient κι
grace, they differed essentially from Pelagianism, properly so called.
And, considering the great importance which he attached to the other
disputed points, we must respect the spirit of Christian moderation,
evinced by him when he added: “ We must apply to them the words
of Paul, in Philippians, 83: 15. If they walk according to the measure
of their knowledge, and pray to Him who giveth wisdom, he will reveal
to them that also which they still want, in order to a correct insight
into the doctrine of predestination.” 2
In these two tracts, he lays open his disputed scheme of doctrine,
holding to it firmly in all its strictness, in the way we have already de-
scribed ; and we need here only notice what he says new in reference
to the scruples professed by the Gallic Semi-Pelagians. These, as
Prosper reported to Augustin, had affirmed that even Vif the doctrine of
unconditional predestination were according to the truth, yet it ought
not to be preached, because the doctrine could be of no use to any one,
and might be mischievous to all. It tempts the pious to feel secure
and to be inactive, and leads sinners to despair, instead of allowing them
room for repentance. On the other hand, Augustin says: ““ We might
keep silent as to those truths, the knowledge of which would only enrich
1 Prosper, and also the author of the Non idem status est agris, non urbibus ullis:
ὃ - Omniaque in finem precipitata ruunt.
work de Sees ohare refer to these Impia confuso seevit discordia mundo,
facts, especially as showing how different Pax abiit terris ; ultima quaeque vides.
tribes of people’ were led to embrace the
faith of the gospel. In the beautiful poem
of “A husband to his wife,’ in which the
writer refers to the state of those times as τὰ -
an argument and motive for renouncing Αἰ ΡΥ cactis Gael, tise atl eli
earthly things, and which in some manu- Τῃ nobis nihil audemus’} sed fidimus in te.
scripts is ascribed to Prosper, are to be ϑρεβ igitur mea sola Deus, quem credere vita est.
found the feelings and ideas at least which 2 De predestinatione sanctorum, 6. E
characterized his own religious tone of
mind. He says of his times:
And after having expressed his resolution
to devote himself entirely to Christ, he
adds :
632 AUGUSTIN AGAINST SEMI-PELAGIANISM.
the intellectual insight of those who were capable of understanding
them, without exerting any influence on their moral improvement ; but
the misunderstanding of which would redound to the injury of those
who were incapable of understanding them. But it is otherwise with
those truths the right understanding of which is subservient to holiness,
and the misunderstanding of which leads to all mischief. And among
\ these latter truths is to be reckoned the doctrine of absolute predesti-
nation. It is only when misconstrued and falsely applied, it can be-
come practically injurious. But the doctrine of divine foreknowledge
is liable to the same misconstruction ; as, for example, when it is so
conceived as to lead men to make such statements as the following :
‘You may live as you please, yet that and that only will happen with you
which God foresaw.”’ In preaching the doctrine of predestination, all
that is necessary is simply to keep it ever in mind, that the preacher
of the gospel is addressing either those who are already partakers of
the redemption, or who are yet to become partakers of it, consequently
the elect ; so that the reprobate must be considered as those who are
without the church, and be spoken of only in the third person. With
great adroitness and skill, he showed how the doctrine of predestination
should be used only for the purpose of exciting believers to an unshaken
trust and confidence in God himself and in goodness, and at the same
time to humility ; — and how, on the other hand, everything should be
avoided which, through misconstruction, might lead to false security or
to despondency. The doctrine of predestination, if rightly presented,
would, beyond question, contribute much to the furtherance of genuine
Christian piety. ‘‘ This doctrine,” he concludes, “should be so set
forth that he who properly receives and appropriates it will glory, not
in that which is of man, hence not in that which is his own, but in the
Lord ; and even this, to glory only in the Lord, is, like all the rest, a
gift of God, and indeed, the gift of God, without which all other gifts
are nothing.” As Augustin’s opponents could often cite against him,
and that not without good grounds, the authority of the older divines;
so, on the other hand, he himself appealed, not without reason, to the
original and common expression of the unalterable Christian conscious-
ness; as, for example, in the church prayers for the conversion of unbe-
lievers, for the perseverance of believers to the end, in which prayers
the assembled church were wont to join by saying, Amen. But at the
same time, in interpreting these expressions of the Christian conscious-
ness, as well as many passages from the older divines, he was led, by
the influence of his own doctrinal system, to introduce more into them
than they really contained, when he would find in them testimony
in favor of the doctrine of a grace which is conditioned on no sort
of recipiency on the part of man, and of a predestination connected
with this notion of grace.
These writings made, and indeed were calculated to make, no other
impression on the Semi-Pelagians than Augustin’s earlier productions.
Hence, Prosper — feeling himself constrained to stand forth in defence
of the conviction of which his heart was so full, and of the man to whom
PROSPER.
HIS CARMEN DE INGRATIS.
633
he clung with an enthusiastic attachment,! as the triumphant defender
of this fundamental truth against the adversaries of the doctrine of
grace — wrote, in opposition to those whom he designates as the wngrate-
ful, his carmen de ingratis. By this designation, Prosper understands in
-general all those who considered the operations of grace as in any way» »
conditioned by the free recipiency of man; those who did not refer
everything in man to grace alone.
Although his attack was directed
in this case more particularly against the Semi-Pelagians, yet, in look-
ing at the subject from this particular point of view, Semi-Pelagianism
would necessarily seem to coincide with Pelagianism ; — and, in truth,
he endeavors to show that the doctrines of the Semi-Pelagians led
ultimately to Pelagian principles.?
He complains that his adversaries,
who were for the most part rigid monks, misled many through the
respect which they inspired by the virtues connected with their
Christian renunciation of the world: but, as they looked upon these
virtues as being in part their own work, they were but seeming virtues,
destitute of the principle of all true goodness, that temper of the heart
which refers everything to God alone, and which feels the sense of de-
pendence on him for all things. A deep and sincerely Christian feeling
of dependence breathes through this production, imparting to it warmth
and vitality ; but with all this, the author overlooks in his opponents the “
interest of a morality which would be free, and which assuredly has no
less its foundation in Christianity, than the sense of dependence. ‘* Do
they perhaps consider it a shame,” says he of his opponents, ‘ that
Christ will one day be all in all in the redeemed ? But if this is, above
all things else, great and noble, why are they ashamed in this present
vale of sorrow to be mighty through God, and to have in them as little
as possible of their own, of that which is a mortal work, which is nothing
but sin ?”’ 4
The contest between the Augustinian and Semi-Pelagian party in
Gaul still continued, after the death of Augustin.®
Prosper opposed,
it is true, to his adversaries, the decisions of the Roman bishops, and
1 This very fact, that the firm persuasion
of man’s being nothing through himself,
but everything through God alone, had
pervaded Augustin’s entire life, appears to
Prosper the characteristic trait of this great
man, the fundamental principle of his pecu-
liar character. This is beautifully ex-
pressed by Prosper in his carmen de ingra-
tis, where he says of Augustin (ν. 90 :)
Quem Christi gratia cornu
Uberiore rigans, nostro lumen dedit zvo,
Accensum vero de lumine ; nam cibus illi
Et vita et requies Deus est, omnisque voluptas
Unus amor Christi est, unus Christi est honor illi.
Et dum nulla sibi tribuit bona, fit Deus illi
Omnia, et in sancto regnat sapientia templo.
? As Prosper says himself: ingrati, quos
urit gratia, v. 685.
8 Licet in eruce vitam
Ducant et jugi afficiant sua corpora morte,
Abstineant opibus, sint casti, sintque benigne,
Terrenisque ferant animum super astra relictis ;
still, surgendo cadunt, non horum templo
est Christus petra fundamento. V. 775.
4 Viles ergv putent se deformesque futuros
Cum transformatis fiet Deus unica sanctis
Gloria: corporei nec jam pressura laboris
Conteret incertos ; sed in omnibus omnia semper
Christus erit. Quod si pulechrum et super om-
nia magnum est,
Cur pudet hac etiam, fletus in valle, potentes
Esse Deo, minimumque operis mortalis habere,
Quod non est nisi peccatum.
5 The last years of his long and laborious
life Augustin had set apart for completing
the theological works which were ae
connected with these disputed points whic
seemed to him so important. As the mul-
tiplied engagements of his episcopal office
left him no leisure for this, he, with the
consent of his community, made arrange-
ments to have his labors lightened by the
assistance of Eraclius, a presbyter educated
under his own eye. He was occupied du-
634 DEATH OF AUGUSTIN.
PROSPER AND HILARY AT ROME.
of the emperors; but the Semi-Pelagians felt assured that they were
not touched or affected by those authorities, for they in fact were also
opponents of the Pelagian doctrines condemned by those decisions.
For this reason, Prosper and Hilary sought to establish, in opposition to
“them, another new church authority.
They appealed to the Roman
bishop Ccelestin, and entered a complaint to him against presbyters
given to disputation and fond of novelty, who propagated false doctrines,
and presumed to attack the memory of Augustin. They probably
hoped to obtain from the Roman bishop a distinct response in favor of
the system of Augustin, against the Semi-Pelagian principles, concerning
grace and concerning free-will ; but their expectations were not fulfilled.
_ Ccelestin, it is true, in answer to this application, published, in the year
431,1 a letter to the Gallic bishops.
In this letter, he complains that
several presbyters, of whom he speaks with some contempt, had taken
ring this time in preparing a critique on all
his own writings, (his retractationes ) What
led him to engage in this work was doubt-
less the fact, that many passages from his
earlier writings were cited against him,
especially by Pelagians and Semi-Pelagians:
whence his enthusiastic admirers were em-
barrassed, since they would not allow that
the man whose authority stood so extrava-
gantly high with them could be convicted
of any errors. But Augustin himself was
far from claiming any such authority for
his writings. Such authority was due, ac-
cording to his judgment, only to the Bible.
He says to those extravagant friends, that
they labored to no purpose: they had under-
taken a bad cause. They would lose their
suit, even if tried before himself, (frustra
laboratis, non bonam causam_ suscepistis,
facile in ea me ipso judice superamini, ep.
143 ad Marcellinum.) He rejoiced in the
confession, that he had made some progress
in truth, and acknowledged several of his
earlier errors as such, which he was not
now ashamed publicly to expose in his wri-
tings. Unquestionably it was true also, as
may be gathered from what has been al-
ready remarked, that his mind, more fet-
tered and contined in several respects, now
represented as error what at an earlier pe-
riod had been conceived with more freedom,
or that he unconsciously interpreted his
earlier views as being in accordance with
his present altered way of thinking.
Next, he employed himself on his last
work in the Pelagian controversy with
Julian, which he was unable to finish. He
wrote for this work amid the violent. politi-
cal agitations which brought devastation
and ruin over this flourishing portion of the
world. He had the pain of seeing the mis-
ery proceed from a man who had once been
one of his most beloved friends. The count
(comes) Bonifacius, one of the most distin-
guished and successful generals of the Ro-
man empire in its decline, had been led by
the advice of Augustin himself, instead of
retiring to the monastic life, to the resolu-
tion of devoting his powers still further to
the defence of the oppressed Roman Chris-
tendom against the incursions of barbarian
tribes. But by the intrigues of his rival in
military renown the general Aétius, he had
been afterwards drawn into the great mis-
take of rebelling against the imperial gov-
ernment ; and, for the purpose of maintain-
ing himself in this contest, he invited over
the Vandals to his assistance from Spain.
Augustin availed himself of a favorable
opportunity of addressing himself to the
conscience of Boniface, in a letter written
with true Christian dignity, and with great
wisdom, (a true model of proceeding in
such intricate circumstances.) The latter
was compelled to find out by ditter experi-
ence the truth of that which his old friend
had predicted to him. He was carried fur-
ther than he meant to be, and when he
endeavored to retrace his steps, found it to
be too late. The Vandals looked upon the
flourishing country as their own property,
and, from being the allies of Boniface, be-
came his enemies. Augustin’s episcopal
residence, the city of Hippo, was besieged
by them. Amidst these sufferings, and in
sight of the new trials which were threat-
ening him, it was Augustin’s daily prayer,
that God would deliver the city from the
enemy, or bestow on his servants the power
to endure everything which his will had in
store for them; or that he would grant him
arelease out of the present world. The
last event happened. In the third month
of the siege, which lasted fourteen months
in all, Augustin died, at the age of seventy-
six, A.D. 429.
1 As he himself alleges, he had already
on some earlier occasion decided in like
manner, in 8. responsum to a certain bishop
Tuentius, which has not reached our times
CQ@LESTIN — VINCENTIUS. 635
the liberty to set in agitation certain curious questions.! Quite in the
spirit of the Roman church, he considers it a great scandal that pres-
byters should wish to set themselves up as teachers of the bishops; and
he ascribes it chiefly to the fault of these latter, that presbyters pre-
sumed to make themselves so important. Doubtless it might be,
“says, that some of them had but recently left the ranks of the laity,
and hence had not yet become fully aware of what belonged to
them as bishops. And he intimates a suspicion, which the accusers of
the Semi-Pelagians had probably found it convenient to insinuate, that
several among themselves might be inclined to the same errors. He
moreover expressed, in strong terms, his respect for Augustin, who, by
his predecessors also, had been considered to belong among the most
eminent teachers of the church. But notwithstanding all this, the decis-
ions of the Roman bishop were still so indefinite, that the opponents
of Semi-Pelagianism could derive from them but little advantage.
Ceelestin, indeed, forbore to enter into a particular description of the
doctrines of those presbyters against whom he inveighed. What he un-
derstood by the expression ‘ curious questions,” was left wholly in the
dark ; and the Semi-Pelagians accused their opponents of this very
thing, namely, that instead of holding fast to matters of practical mo-
ment, they busied themselves with such questions. He had said, Let
the spirit of innovation — adding, if there is such a spirit—cease to
~ attack the ancient doctrine. But still it was left undefined what was
to be understood by the ancient and what by the novel doctrines. The
Semi-Pelagians, in fact, also asserted,—and they could do it with
even more justice than théir opponents, — that by them the ancient
doctrine of the church was defended against the false doctrine recently
introduced concerning absolute predestination, and against the denial
of free-will; tenets wholly unknown to the ancient church. As a matter
of course, therefore, the Semi-Pelagians might interpret these decisions
as being in favor of their own scheme of doctrine ; and so, accordingly,
' they did interpret them. The Vincentius already mentioned, who had
been educated at a cloister on the island of Lerins in Provence, which
was one of the most distinguished seats of Semi-Pelagianism, seems also
to have given the decision this interpretation ; and it was, perhaps, at
the fiercest stage of this controversy, in the year 494,2 that he wrote
his famous Commonitorium, if not with the single, yet with the special
or partial, design of applying a principle to the refutation of Augustin’s
1 Indisciplinatz questiones. All ques- terpretatio, contrived to explain this decision
tions on the subject why God bestowed his
grace on some and not on others; all such
questions, which ‘were not to be disposed of
by reference to the secret incomprehensible
counsels of God, belonged, in fact, according
to the judgment of such men as Prosper, to
this class; and Ccelestin here speaks at first
only in the language of his accusers.
2 Desinat, si ita res sunt, incessere novitas
vetustatem.
8 Prosper himself, in his book against
Collator, (§3) gives it to be understood
that many Semi-Pelagians, by a maligna in-
of the Roman bishop to their own advan-
tage. Ceelestin—said they, as it would
seem as if we must gather from his lan-
guage—had by no means approved, by
that culogium of Augustin, all his writings
with reference to the doctrines which they
contained; and if he approved the earlier
ones, he could not the later, in which Au-
gustin himself set the novitas in opposition
to the vetustas.
4See chap. 42, his own chronological
statement.
636 HILARY AND PROSPER AT ROME.
doctrine of predestination, which was recognized by Augustin himself ,
namely, that the subjective views of a church-teacher, however holy
and highly gifted, could yet establish nothing in opposition to the
ancient and hitherto universally prevailing doctrine of the church ; and
that such views would ever continue to be nothing more than private
Opinions, unless accompanied by the marks of antiquity, unlyersan :
and general consent (antiquitas, universalitas, consentio. )}
Since Hilary and Prosper had now made a journey to Rome for the
express purpose of procuring a favorable decision, and, we may take it
for granted, they would spare no pains to accomplish ‘their object, we
may the more confidently conclude, that the Roman bishop had good
reasons for not expressing himself more definitely and decidedly on
this disputed question, when he had assumed a tone so entirely differ-
ent in the Nestorian controversy.2- The only course which remained
for Prosper was to contend against the Semi-Pelagians with the pro-
ductions of his pen : 3 but, as in a case where the tendencies of Christian
feeling and of the reflections springing therefrom were so entirely
opposed to each other, there could be no chance for a common under-
standing between Prosper and his opponents ; and his own arguments
1 Vincentius enables us to discover his
connection with the Semi-Pelagian party, by
naming among the false teachers Pelagius
and Ceelestius, but not their pretended “ΘΗ:
shoots the Semi- Pelagians; and by neglect-
ing to mention Augustin among the many
church-teachers who are praised by him.
Thus now, too, at the end of the second sec-
tion of his commonitorium, of which only a
fragment has been preserved, he cites those
passages from the letter of Coelestin to the
French bishops. Although he does not ex-
plain any further, even in “this passage, what
Ceelestin meant by the term “ novitas,” but
chooses to leave the more particular appli-
cation to each individual himself; yet he
certainly betrays here the Semi- Pelagian
forced by the authority of Augustin to tread
somewhat too softly. A person of the same
temper with Prosper would have expressed
himself doubtless in this case more strongly
and distinctly, and the more, as he must
have been aware that his opponents turned
the vagueness of that passage to their own
account. Moreover, in explaining the
phrase, “ si ita res est,” he discovers the
Semi-Pelagian, who considered the charge to
be without foundation. Most probably it
was from this Vincentius that the capitula
objectionum Vincentianarum proceeded,
against which a small tract of Prosper was
directed.
2 Tf the collection of decisions by Roman
bishops and North-African councils against
the doctrines of Pelagius and Coelestins,
which is united in several of the older col-
lections of ecclesiastical laws with this letter
of Ccelestin, really belonged to the same,
Ceelestin would beyond all question have
expressed himself ina more distinct man-
ner: for this collection has manifestly for
its object to establish the whole Augustinian
scheme of the doctrine of grace in opposi-
tion to the Semi-Pelagians; because these
accused Augustin of having over-stepped
the proper limits, and because they, more-
over, contrived to interpret the authority of
the Roman bishops in their own sense.
But the way in which Ceelestin’s letter con-
cludes, shows clearly that nothing was to
follow after. In this additional clause itself,
is exhibited a different tone of language
from that which we are accustomed to meet
with in Roman bishops; and Prosper, who,
as we have remarked, appeals to the letter
of Ceelestin, would assuredly not have omit-
ted to mention this clause, if he had known
it as one which proceeded from Ceelestin.
We cannot doubt, therefore, that this piece
is a later addition ; and from whomsoever it
might be that this certainly very old appen-
dix, belonging to the very time of these con-
troversies, proceeded, it still remains worthy
of notice that its author professes indeed
the doctrine of that grace of God from
whose agency nothing is to be excluded, but
that he does not, however, declare himself in
favor of the doctrine of absolute predesti-
nation; but rather expressly avoids the
inquiry as unprofitable, when he says: Pro-
fundiores vero difficilioresque partes incur-
rentium questionum, quas latius pertracta-
runt, qui heereticis restiterunt, sicut non
audemus contemnere, ita non necesse habe-
mus adstruere. -
3 His writings against Cassian, liber con-
tra Collatorem, his responsum ad capitula
Gallorum, .the tract already mentioned
against Vincentius, his epistola ad Rufi-
num.
us
~
;
PROSPER ΟΝ PREDESTINATION. 637
΄
had quite as little weight with them, as theirs with himself; and, as
Ceelestin’s decision had so very much disappointed his expectations, he
endeavored to prevail on Sixtus, the successor of Ceelestin, to finish
the work of his predecessors, and annihilate the last remains of Pelagi-
anism. As his predecessors had suppressed the open Pelagians, so
Sixtus ought to suppress altogether the concealed Pelagians, since this
work had been reserved for him by divine Providence.! But neither
did he succeed as yet in carrying this point.
The writings of Prosper suggest one remark, important in its bearing
on the course and progress of this controversy. On the one hand, the
Semi-Pelagians endeavored so to represent the doctrine of absolute pre-
destination as to bring most prominently to view the point in which it
grated most harshly on the Christian feelings; namely, its irreconcilable
ness with the Christian ideas of God’s holiness and love. They affirmed
that, according to this doctrine, God had created only a small portion
of mankind for eternal happiness, and the rest for damnation ; God
had predestinated these latter to sin; he was the author of sin ; Christ
had died not for the salvation of all men, but only for the redemption
of this small and determinate portion of them. On the other hand,
Prosper labored with great skill and effect to avoid everything in the
exposition of this scheme which might seem repulsive to the Christian
feelings ; although we must admit he rather concealed all the difficul-
ties by happy turns and forms of expression, than really avoided them
in the material contents of the thought. The charge that God was made
the author of sin, he evaded,” as Augustin had done, by deriving all sin
from a free act of Adam. God’s predestination and his foreknowledge
were by no means to be considered as identical. In-reference to that
which has its ground in God himself, goodness, as the bestowment of
his grace, and just judgment, were undoubtedly both one. But the case
was otherwise in reference to sin, which has its ground in the will
of the creature; and in relation to this, we can speak only of the
divine foreknowledge. But should any be now disposed to find an
arbitrary will standmg in contradiction with the idea of a holy God, in
1 Confidimus Domini protectione pre-
standum, ut quod operatus est in Innocentio
cext., operetur in Sixto, et in custodia Do-
time, and accordingly also as wholly ex-
cluding, even in the case of Adam, the free
self-determination of the will. Sce the
minici gregis hee sit pars gloriz huic re-
servata pastori, ut sicut illi lupos abegere
manifestos, ita hic depellat occultos. — Hu-
jusmodi hominum pravitati non tam dispu-
tationum studio, quam auctoritatum privi-
legio resistendum est. C. Collator. ¢. 21,
§4. :
2 If indeed Prosper had been disposed to
proceed consistently, after the same manner
in which he derived his conception of grace,
as opposed to the Semi-Pelagian views, from
the doctrine of an almighty power of God
excluding everything of the nature of con-
ditions, and of an absolute dependence of
the creature, he must have come at last to
consider all the inward operations of God
on human nature as absolutely uncondi-
tioned from the first and at every point of
VOL. Il.
remarkable passage in the carmen de in-
gratis, v. 370. We ought not to regard
God’s agency upon man—says he — as so
feeble a thing as that of one man upon
another, when by his words he seeks to
produce love or hatred or any other affec-
tion in the heart of another, so that the
speaker is unable really to communicate
this affection to the other, but it depends on
the other to yield himself to this affection
or not. It is not so with divine grace,
which is almighty: this employs all subor-
dinate causes only as its instruments, is not
dependent on them.
Ipsa suum consummat opus, cui tempus agendi
Semper adest, quee gesta velit: non moribus ili
Fit mora, non causis anceps suspenditur ullis.
y. 384
638 PROSPER ON PREDESTINATION.
the fact that, of those who stood in the like condition of alienation from
him, he rescued some by his grace, and left the others to their merited
destruction, Prosper answers: Men’s minds would easily be set at rest,
were it but held fast as an incontrovertible maxim of faith, that with
God there is no place for arbitrary will : nothing he does can stand in
contradiction with his holiness and justice: and that no salvation is to
be found without the grace of Christ. But as our Theodicee must fail
. to explain many things which take place in the life of nations and of
individuals, while still we are not perplexed or hindered in-our faith in
God’s wisdom and holiness ; so here, too, we must cling fast to our faith,
although it may be impossible for us to fathom or comprehend the
counsels according to which God dispenses that grace. Well for us,
could we but acknowledge the limited nature of our present knowledge
of divine things. Prosper charged his opponents, as they did hin,
with attempting, in opposition to the apostle Paul, to explore the un-
searchable judgments of God.? He said, instead of searching into the
deep things of the hidden God, and losing ourselves in a labyrinth of
unanswerable questions, we ought rather to employ our thoughts on the
ample range of revealed grace, and hold fast to that which the apostle
Paul declares : God wills that all men should be saved. This will of
God is revealed in the fact of his having provided men with all the
means of coming to the knowledge of himself, whether it is revelation
by the gospel, by the law, or by the works of creation. But, verily,
by all these means, they cannot be led to salvation without the grace
which gives them faith. Thus was there here already brought to view,
the germ of that distinction between a will of God universally revealed
and conditioned, and a secret, special, and unconditioned will of God ; —
the former being, in fact, taken up and absorbed by the latter. All
these shifts and turns were not strictly peculiar to Prosper ; but we
here discern in him only the apt and skillful disciple of Augustin, —a
disciple who well understood how to seize, to combine, and to distribute
the scattered thoughts of his master.
This tempered exhibition, aiming to avoid the repulsive aspects of
the Augustimian scheme, which proceeded from Prosper, had mani-
festly an important influence on the course of this controversy. Out
of the germs contained in the writings of Prosper, was formed a still
more refined and happily conceived exhibition of this system, executed
with great spirit, and based upon conciliatory motives. This is set
forth im a work entitled, The call of all the nations, (de vocatione
omnium gentium,) the author of which is not certaimly known.’ ‘This
1 Non ergo instamus clausis, nee aperta procaci
Urgemus cura, satis est opera omnipotentis
Cernere et auctorem cunctorum nosse bonorum.
v. 740 et 5.
2 Responsio ad capitula Gallorum, c. VIII.
Profitentur 5101 scrutabilia judicia Dei et
vestigabiles vias ejus.
3'The comparison of this remarkable
work with the writings of Prosper shows,
without doubt, a great agreement between
the former and the latter in fundamental
ideas ; and many single thoughts also occur
with the same application in the two kinds
of writing. But the author seems to be a
person who had not previously taken part
in these disputes, but who, after they had
been going on now for a long time, felt
himself called upon to make the experiment,
whether he could not by a certain mode of
exhibition provide some way for reconciling
the opposite views on the disputed doctrines
This does not suit the case of Prosper, who
THE BOOK DE VOCATIONE GENTIUM. 639
work evidently proceeded, as the author himself intimates in the intro-
duction, from a person who was seeking to bring about a reconciliation
between the two parties so fiercely opposed to each other, — and that
certainly with a decided leaning to the Augustinian system of doctrine,
for the fundamental ideas of which he labored to procure a more gene-
ral admission, by exhibiting them in a dress and in a combination
peculiar to himself; taking pains to divest them of everything which ex-
posed them to the censures of the Semi-Pelagians, and which served to
give those censures a more plausible appearance. That he might more
easily effect his object, to act as a mediator, he refrained from all allu-
sion to Augustin, though the authority of that father must certainly
have stood very high with him. In general, he was remarkably dis-
tinguished for his predominant dialectic method, which was indepen-
dent of all church authorities.
He endeavored in the first place to show, that an entire harmony
subsisted between the doctrines of grace and of free-will, so that the
one could not: be maintained without the other. Take away the free-
will, and no organ would be left for the expression or existence of the
true virtues. ‘Take away grace, and the fountain-head would be want
ing, from whence everything truly good must flow. He next proceeds
to distinguish three different bents of will, and corresponding positions
of men. The lowest stage or position is that of a will directed solely
to the things of sense, (the voluntas sensualis ;) next follows the will
which rises above the things of sense, but is still left to itself, and bent
on its own ends, (voluntas animalis) — the will which has not, as yet,
been attracted and pervaded by the godlike element. The more
active man’s changeable will, the more easily is it carrted away by evil,
so long as it is not governed by the unchangeable will of God. The
third stage or position is that of a will attracted and actuated by the
godlike, — the will which the Spirit of God, with whom the man has
come into communion, employs as his organ, (the voluntas spiritalis.)
By virtue of this, man comes to refer himself, his whole life, and every-
from the first had been at the head of one
there was no historical tradition respecting
of the two parties. Moreover, it does not
the author’s person, Gelasius himself citing
accord with the character of Prosper, as it
appears in his acknowledged and genuine
writings, that the author of the work in
question refrains from all violent attacks
upon his opponents; that he cites absolutely
no authorities, and passes over Augustin in
entire silence. ΤῸ this must be added the
difference of style. Now, it is true that
ancient manuscripts ascribe the work to
Prosper; but, on the other hand, there are
still older ones which ascribe it to Ambrose,
to whom it could not be ascribed without a
sorry anachronism. It is accordingly evi-
dent that the authority of manuscripts can-
not pass in this case as historical testimony.
Owing to its contents, the work excited a
great sensation, — hence, too, the Roman
bishop Gelasius cites it among the books of
approved orthodoxy. But inasmuch as
it as an anonymous work, men were readily
disposed to ascribe it to some approved
church-teacher, and it was at least a more
felicitous and well-grounded conjecture
which made Prosper its author. If we fol-
low the internal evidence, a certain resemb-
lance of thought and expression gives some
color of probability to the conjecture of
Quesnel, that Leo the Great wrote this
book, while he was a deacon. But in this
case the fact that the work should still re-
main anonymous is still more surprising ;
and it may be asked, whether everything is
not sufficiently explained, if we suppose
that the book was written by a theologian,
unknown to us, belonging to the second
half of the fifth century, and who was an
earnest student of the writings of Prosper
and of Leo the Great.
<z..
640 THE BOOK DE VOCATIONE GENTIUM.
thing else, to God alone, and loves in all things only the godlike. This
will is the incipient germ of all virtue. Here all becomes divine and
all human ; divine in reference to Him who has bestowed it, human in
reference to him who has received 1{.1 Grace, which bestows this
divine life on man, works upon and within him, not by a compulsory or
magical influence, but in a way altogether in harmony with the laws of his
nature. The nature of the human will, as such, has not been destroyed
by the fall; its form remains the same ; and it is simply by appropriat-
ing this, that grace works upon him and within him. At first, it operates
in various ways, to prepare the will so as to be ready to receive its
gifts ;2 for without the codperation of the will, there can be no virtue.
Now this work distinguishes two kinds of grace ; and this distinction
itself belongs to the peculiarity of the method whereby the author
seeks to banish the appearance of particularism from the system of
Augustin ; although the peculiarity in this case consists merely in the
form of expression and the more complete exposition, — the principal
thoughts having been presented already by Prosper. He institutes a
distinction, to wit, between general grace® and special grace.* By
the first, God leads all men to the knowledge of himself; and thereby
he reveals his will, that all men should come to the knowledge of the
truth and be saved. This general grace consists in the revelation
which God has made of himself to the rational spirit by the works of
creation.® But the sense and import of this outward revelation of God
could still be only understood by man, by virtue of the inner revelation
of God in the human heart, only through the consciousness of God in
the mind itself. Thus it came about, that the greatest portion of man-
kind neither understood nor followed this law of God ; and by these
visible testimonies also we must learn, that the letter killeth, and that
the spirit only maketh alive. The author recognizes, then, a universal
inward revelation of God as the original source of all religion. But in
as much as men, by the darkening of their own understandings, became
estranged again from this heavenly hight shinmg within them, this sense
of God was again suppressed or falsified.® It still remains true, that
none can attain to salvation otherwise than by that special grace
1 Omnis actio ad unum refertur, et quod
ad unum refertur, utriusque est, quia nec a
Deo alienari potest quod dedit, nec ab hom-
ine quod accepit. A like sentiment is found
in the letter to Demetrias (which, too, was
falsely ascribed to Ambrose, but seems to
have come from the same author:) Implet
Spiritus Sanctus organum suum, et tanquam
fila chordarum, tangit digitus Dei corda
sanctorum. This moral fellowship of man
with God is represented, as in the quotation
made above from Prosper, to be an antici-
pation of the eternal life on earth: Nec
dubie ista subjectio jam ex magna parte in
illins futurze beatitudinis est constituta con-
sortio, ubi Deus erit omnia in omnibus.
2 Ut in eo quem vocat, primum sibi re-
ceptricem et famulam donorum suorum
preparet voluntatem.
8 Gratia generalis, generalia gratis aux-
ilia.
4 Gratia specialis, dona, auxilia specialia.
5Implente omnia Spiritu Dei, in quo
vivimus, movemur, etsumus. Per que hu-
manis cordibus quedam zeternz legis tabu-
lee preebebantur, ut in paginis elementorum
ac voluminibus temporum, communis et
publica divine institutionis doctrina legere-
tur.
ὃ Quod illuminante Dei gratia invenerant,
obccecante superbia perdiderunt. Relapsi a
superna luce ad tenebras suas. In the letter
to Demetrias: In pulchritudine cceli et terra
quedam sunt paginz, ad omnium oculos
semper patentes, et auctorem suum nun-
quam tacentes, quarum protestatio doctri-
nam imitatur magistrorum et eloquia scrip-
turarum. Sed guid(quid) illad est, quo
THE PREDESTINATIANS. 641
(gratia specialis) by which man’s will becomes transformed through
faith in Christ into a spiritual will. If we ask why this grace is im-
arted to some and not to others among the great mass of mankind,
who are alike alienated from God, and how this is to be reconciled
with God’s revealed will that all should be saved ; we can obtain no
᾿ other answer than that here, as in innumerable other cases, we perceive
the fact, without being able to explore the cause; that, as in innumera-
ble other things, knowledge lingers behind faith ; that our knowledge is
but in part. We must stand fast by the faith, that God everywhere acts
according to his own infinite justice and wisdom ; although the question
how may be wholly beyond the reach of our penetration. In this very
thing it behooves us to show the strength of our faith in God’s justice and
wisdom, that by these difficulties, which admit of no solution in our pre-
sent earthly life, we still do not suffer ourselves to be perplexed or
disturbed. When we are so disposed as neither to deny the things|
which are revealed, nor to explore those that are hidden, we find our-’ )
selves in the right relation to truth.
While, as we have described, the prudent defenders of Augustin’s
scheme were particularly interested in carefully guarding against all
those conclusions calculated to revolt the religious and moral feelings
common to all men, and so easily capable of being shown to be practi-
cally mischievous, which had been charged upon the system by its
enemies ; so it was natural, on the other hand, that the opponents
would be very unwilling to be deprived of an advantage which, on
account of the impression it produced on most minds, was so important
to them, and, in spite of all these logical distinctions which had been
brought to bear against them, would still believe themselves obliged
not to give up the defence and justification of these conclusions. When
we learn, then, that writers of a decidedly Semi-Pelagian stamp, living
in Gaul in the last half of the fifth century,? represent those very tenets
which were repudiated by the above-named defenders of Augustin’s
scheme, and called unfair inferences from their doctrine, as the tenets
of a newly-risen sect, styled Predestinatians, (Przedestinati or Praedes-
tinatiani,) we might be easily led to conjecture that the Predestinatians,
so called, were none other than the defenders of Augustin’s doctrine
of predestination ; that their opponents in this period, as in earlier
times, took the liberty of charging them with their own inferences from
the doctrine they taught, as this doctrine itself; and that they invented
a distinctive sectarian name for the defenders of such a doctrine, in
order that they might stigmatize it as heretical, without seeming to
interfere with the universally acknowledged authority of Augustin, and
corporeorum sensuum exteriora pulsantur,
in agro cordis, cui impenditur ista cultura,
nec radicem potest figere, nec germen emit-
tere, nisi ille summus et verus agricola po-
tentiam sui operis adhibuerit et ad vitalem
profectum que sunt plantata perduxerit.
1 Latet discretionis ratio; sed non latet
ipsa discretio. Non intelligimus judican-
tem; sed videmus operantem. Quid calum-
niamur justitiz occults, qui gratias debemus
VOL. Il. δ4"
misericordiz manifestes ?— Quanto hoe ip-
sum difficiliore intellectu capitur, tanto fide
laudabiliore creditur.
2 As for example, the younger Arnobius,
presently to be mentioned, author of the
Predestinatus. Commentar.in Psalm. 146,
f. 327, bibliotheca patrum Lugdun. Τὶ VIL
Nota tibi, Predestinate, quod loquor — and
Faustus Rhegiensis.
642 THE PREDESTINATIANS.
thus also convert the detested doctrine of predestination itself into a
heresy. This conjecture would seem to be confirmed by our observing
that those persons who speak of a heresy of the Predestinatians, in no
way distinguish the doctrine of predestination, apprehended according
to its original sense, from such extravagant inferences derived from it ;
but ever speak of the doctrine of absolute predestination, in itself con-
sidered, only as a doctrine apprehended in that form in which it
appears to them as a Predestinatian heresy. But the mere possibility
of such an explanation would still not warrant us in the conclusion, that
the fact was actually so. It would certainly not be unnatural to con-
ceive, that all the advocates of the doctrine of absolute predestination
would not conduct with the prudence and caution of an Augustin, a
Prosper, and the author of the book De vocatione gentium. A doctrine
like this might, in its further spread, easily gain fanatical adherents,
who, abandoning themselves to a single one-sided direction of religious
feeling, would assume an offensive position to the harmonious sentiment
of religion, as it is grounded in the essence of man’s nature, and was
brought to consciousness by Christianity; and thus suffer themselves to
be misled into the error of pushing the doctrine of absolute predesti-
nation, in their own statement of it, to that revolting extreme of harsh-
ness. Zealots, who were ready to sacrifice to their interest for this
single Christian dogma the interests of the universal Christian faith,
might, especially by their uncompromising opposition to Semi-Pelagian-
ism, be driven to this extreme, as the like has often happened in other
cases. Now an appearance of the doctrine they so detested in this new
form would be extremely welcome to the Semi-Pelagians, since they
could take advantage of it for the purpose of represerting their own
inferences from the doctrine as the actual tenets of the party they con-
tended against, and as their prevailing, generally acknowledged prin-
ciples ; and their own interest would naturally prevent them from
making the distinction which justice required between the genuine and
spurious disciples of Augustin. But, after all, 10 must still remain
doubtful, whether in truth there was a sect of Predestinatians in the
sense above described, or whether the existence of such a sect was
merely an invention due to the Semi-Pelagian unfairness of inference.
The reasons for and against the latter presumption would still continue
to counterbalance each other, and we should still want the documentary
evidence necessary to establish the existence of such a sect. This evi-
dence, however, has been found, since the publication of a small tract,
composed by one of these Predestinatians, in which the mode of thinking
and of expression peculiar to these people is very clearly set forth.2 In
this book, the doctrine of absolute predestination is certainly expressed
in the sternest asperity, and every possible expression purposely sought
after which can grate on the moral feelings. The work not only de-
parts throughout, in style of representation, from the style and method
1 Thus the two things are put together by peccantes existimet Dei abjectione peccare.
Arnobius in 7. 117, f. 805: Prsedestinatio- 2 The second book of the work entitled
nem docere et liberum hominis arbitrium Predestinatus, published by the Jesuit Sir-
infringere, libertatem arbitriiitaexcludere, ut mond, 1643.
THE BOOK PRADESTINATUS. THE AUTHOR. 643
of Augustin, so distinguished for logical skill and a delicate regard to
the moral feelings ; but also a difference of doctrine on one point lies
the basis of its whole peculiarity of representation. The principles
expressed in it lead to the hypothesis of a divine predetermination, cutting
off all free self-determination from the creature, and all contingency.
But such delicacy of moral feeling can hardly be supposd in this
writer, as we find in Augustin, which would lead him to be inconsistent
with himself, and make the will of Adam an exception from that prin-
ciple! He knew of no difference betwixt foreknowledge and predesti-
nation. God predestined man to righteousness or to sin ; since other-
wise we must suppose that God, without foreknowledge, created men
who could act differently from what he pleased. God remains unde-
feated in his will, while, on the other hand, man is constantly defeated.
If, then, you acknowledge that God cannot be defeated in his counsels,
you must also acknowledge that men cannot be other than that for
which God has created them. Hence we conclude, that those persons
whom God has once destined to life, even though they are neglectful,
though they sin, though they will not, shall yet, against their will, be
conducted to life ; but those whom he has predestined to death, although
they run, although they hasten, yet labor in vain. He gives the follow-
ing illustration: “Judas heard daily the word of life ; he daily lived
in the society of our Lord; he daily heard his admonitions, daily wit-
nessed his miracles; but because he was predetermined to death, he
was suddenly overthrown by a single blow. Saul, on the other hand,
who daily stoned: the Christians, and laid waste their churches, was
suddenly made a vessel of election, because he had been predestined to
life. Why fearest thou then,” he proceeds, ‘‘ thou who continuest
in sin? If God vouchsafes it, thou shalt be holy. Or why art thou,
who livest a holy life, overburthened with concern, as if thy concern
could preserve thee? If God does not will it, thou shalt not fall.”
Perhaps with reference to the Semi-Pelagian opponents, who were so
highly respected as zealous monks, he says: ‘‘ Wilt thou, who art holy,
and takest pains that thou mayest not fall, who busiest thyself day and
night with prayer, fasting, reading of the scriptures, and all manner of
holy discipline, wilt thou be saved by these efforts of thine ? Wilt thou
be holier than Judas? Cease, Ὁ man! cease, I say, to be careful for
thy virtue, and securely confide on the will of God.” With a view to
extol predestination and the arbitrariness of grace, he depreciates the
work of redemption. Human nature was so entirely corrupted by the
fall of Adam, that it obtained a restoration by Christ, not in reality, but
merely in hope.
The writer who has been the means of transmitting to us this remark-
able book, together with a preliminary brief description of the most
important older heresies,? and a refutation of the book in question, was
evidently a Semi-Pelagian ; and expresses with great freedom and
1 Probably here too we have a forerun- some Pelagians; but the Semi-Pelagians, to
ner of the Supralapsarians, afterwards so whom the author himself belonged, are of
called. course wanting. The Predestinatians con-
2 Among these are to be found, indeed, stitute the ninetieth and last heresy.
644 THE AUTHOR OF THE PRAEDESTINATUS.
boldness his own doctrinal views, which differ entirely from those of
Augustin. He holds to a prevenient grace only in so far as is meant
by it, the grace — preceding all merit on man’s part — manifested mm
redemption, without which no man could obtain salvation.1 The grace
of God, too, bestows immeasurably more than all that we can do,
to make ourselves befitting subjects of it; but still it depends on the
will of the individual, whether he receives it or not. It is the same as
when one distributes alms, and is willing to bestow them on all, if they
will but stretch forth their hands to take what is offered. Would a
poor man, then, who has run forward, taken the alms and thereby
become rich, be able to say : I have become rich by my own labor,
because I willed and ran? No. He would be obliged to say: I have
received nothing on the score of the desert of my willing or running; but
I am indebted for all solely to the grace of him who bestowed his gifts
on me. In this sense are to.be understood, the words of the apostle Paul,
in Romans 9:16. In opposition to those Predestinatians who had
adduced the conversion of Paul as an example of grace operating in a
sudden and irresistible manner, he endeavors to show, that for this
operation of grace, the way had been prepared, and the necessary condi-
tions provided, in the antecedent bent of the will of Paul; for although
he persecuted the Christians, yet that which impelled him to do so was
a burning zeal, — though a zeal misguided by want of correct knowl-
edge,— for the cause of God, 1 Tim. 1 : 19, --- ποῦ, as the Predestina-
tians supposed, a spirit of Cain, but a spirit of Elijah, which already
contained the germ of the apostolic spirit.?
According to the testimony of this Semi-Pelagian, the Predestinatian
tract above mentioned was forged under the name of Augustin, and -
had been already condemned by the sentence of the Roman bishop
Ceelestin. The adherents of the Predestinatian doctrine, who are
represented as being extremely few in number, are said to have circu-
lated this tract stealthily, as containing a doctrine which all were not
able to comprehend, and by means of it to have opened the way for
their opinions, particularly among women.
We must admit the transmission of this Predestinatian tract by a
Semi-Pelagian writer might once more excite our suspicions of its
genuineness, and lead us to surmise that the Semi-Pelagian had himself
composed the work which he refuted, for the purpose of confirming the
report of the Predestinatian heresy, and of placing that heresy in the
most hateful light. But the truth is, that not only the marks of a
well-defined, living, and personal character are too plain in this work to
admit of any such supposition, but also many passages occur in it,
which a Semi-Pelagian, who was aiming to exhibit the doctrine of abso-
lute predestination in a hateful light, would certainly have expressed
otherwise.? Still, the work is not of that stamp which would lead us to
suppose that the author meant to have it considered as a production of
εν 1 Quin non haberet homo hoc ipsum velle, 2 Jam meritis apostolicis plenus, vas elec-
nisi unigenitus nobis de ccelo veniens, om- _ tionis erat.
nibus officinam sus gratiz reserasset. 8 The places where predestination is de-
rived from foreknowledge.
645
Augustin ; and this circumstance again is another mark in favor of its
genuineness : it is a proof that the Semi-Pelagian ascribed to the work
in which he had no hand himself, a design not really intended by the
author of it. Furthermore, the advocate of the doctrine of absolute
predestination was under no necessity of forging writings under Augus-
“tin’s name for the purpose of supporting that tenet, since he could find
arguments enough in Augustin’s genuine productions. The Semi-
Pelagian interest was opposed to the acknowledgment of this ; it was
far more inviting to represent the matter as if it was first necessary
to forge a tract under the name of Augustin, in order to gain the
advantage of possessing in him a direct witness in favor of that
doctrine.!
Among the distinguished men of the Semi-Pelagian party in the second
half of the fifth century belonged Faustus, who had been educated as
a monk in the cloister of Lerins, and who, in the year 454, became
bishop of Rhegium, (Reji, Riez,)? in Provence; a man who, by his
practical Christian spirit and his active and devoted zeal, was the
means of great good,in that whole region, during a period so signally
disastrous to those districts on account of the devastating imroads of
wandering tribes. He was drawn into a dispute with a certain pres-
byter Lucidus, who was reckoned among the party of the Predestina-
tians, and had exhibited the doctrine of absolute predestination in the
most uncompromising language.? In vain had Faustus attempted by
oral argumentations to induce him to recant the errors laid to his
ARNOBIUS. FAUSTUS. MAMERTUS. LUCIDUS.
1 Between the doctrine on these points
which is to be found in the commentary of
the younger Arnobius, an ecclesiastic who
came probably from a cloister of the Semi-
Pelagians in Southern France, and the doc-
trine of the Semi-Pelagian just mentioned,
we may certainly discern a very striking
agreement. Arnobius, too, represents the
grace of redemption generally as being the
gratia preeveniens, the gratia Dei generalis,
antecedens omnium hominum bonam volun-
tatem. In Ps. 147, f. 827. Moreover, he
exhibits the doctrine of absolute predestina-
tion only in the form of Predestinatianism,
and calls the defenders of it heretics. In
Ps. 77, f. 280. The commentaries on Ps.
117, Ps. 147, and Ps. 126, compared with
the second and third books of the Predesti-
natus, prove also that Arnobius had this
work before him; but the reasons are less
for considering him to have been its author.
2 This Faustus deserves notice also on
account of his dispute concerning the cor-
poreality of the soul. He affirmed, as
others before him had already done, (6. g.
Hilary of Poictiers on Matth. 5: 8, and
even Didymus in his work de Trinitate, 1.
Il. ο. 4: ‘Or ἄγγελλοι πνεύματα, καϑὸ πρὸς
ἡμᾶς ἀσώματοι, σώματα ἐπουράνια διὰ τὸ
ἀπείρως ἀπέχειν τοῦ ἀκτίστου πνεύματος,)
that God alone is a pure spirit; in the
essential nature of finitude is grounded lim-
itation as by time, (a beginning of exis-
tence,) so also by space; and hence all
creatures are corporeal beings, the higher
spirits as well as souls. He was led by
his controversies with the Arians of the
German tribes, who were then spreading
themselves in these countries, to unfold
these views still farther: for he supposed he
could demonstrate that if equality of es-
sence with the Father was not ascribed to
the Logos, it would be necessary to regard
him as a corporeal being. He found an
opponent who surpassed him in philosoph-
ical spirit, in thiesby te Claudianus Ma-
mertus of Vienna, a man on whom the
speculative spirit of Augustin had exerted
a great influence. He wrote against Faus-
tus his work de statu anime. Here, too,
we may perceive indications of the kindred
bent of mind among the Semi-Pelagians,
and of the opposition of their way of
thinking to that of Augustin. So, too, the
Semi-Pelagian Arnobius (Commentar. in
Ps. 77) couples together the attributes: So-
lus Deus immensus est et incorporeus.
8 Faustus says expressly that the council
of Arles was called together for the purpose
of condemning the false doctrine of abso-
lute predestination. In the letter to the
bishop Leontius of Arles, he says: In con-
demnando preedestinationis errore.
646 DOCTRINE OF FAUSTUS. ἮΝ ἡ
charge. At length, however, he was prevailed upon by the authority
of a council held at Arles, in 475, to lay down the required confession
in negative and positive propositions.!
Commissioned by this council and another held in the same year at
Lyons, Faustus now endeavored to expound the correct system of doc-
trine on the disputed points, in his work De gratia Dei et humans
mentis libero arbitrio. ;
Although in this book he adopted the Semi-Pelagian mode of exposi-
tion above described with regard to the relation of the free-will to grace ;
yet he unfolded this scheme in a way peculiar to himself. If he did
not express himself so distinctly as to satisfy the acute and clear-headed
theologian, yet we see presented in him, in a beautiful manner, such
a harmonious tendency of Christian feeling, keeping aloof from all par-
tial and exaggerated views, as prevented him from giving undue promi-
nence either to the work of redemption, so as to infringe on that of the
creation, or to the work of creation, so as to infringe on that of the
redemption. ‘As the same Being,” says he, “is both Creator and
Redeemer ; so one and the same Being is to be adored both in the
work of creation and of redemption.2— Among the attributes which, as
expressing the image of God, could not be destroyed in human nature,
he reckons preéminently the free-will. But even before the fall, the
free-will was insufficient without the aid of grace, and still less can
it at present, since sin has entered, suffice by its own strength for the
attainment of salvation. It has now lost its original power ; yet it is
not, in itself, destroyed ; it is not altogether shut out from the divine
gifts, but only it must strive once more to obtain them by intense efforts
and the divine assistance. Like the author of the work De vocatione
gentium, he makes a distinction between general grace, (gratia gene-
ralis,) a term by which he designates the religioso-moral capability,
which God has furnished to man’s nature, and which, too, has not been
1 Among the last occurs also the follow-
ing: Profiteor etiam zternos ignes et infer-
nales flammas factis capitalibus przeparatos,
quia perseverantes in finem humanas culpas
merito sequitur divina sententia. Now, as
we may in general infer from the character
of the positive propositions which Lucidus
was obliged to confess, the character of the
opposite ones which he had taught, or, at
least, was accused of having taught, so we
may in the same way draw some probable
conclusion respecting this proposition. i-
their Lucidus may have said, in order to set
distinctly forth the unconditioned will of
God in absolute predestination, that those
who died in baptism, and as orthodox mem-
bers of the Catholic church, though they
lived to the very end in wickedness, would
still finally be made happy; while those, on
the contrary, who among keathen nations
had led lives which seemed to be ever so
virtuous, would be damned, which indeed
was the farthest possible removed from the
spirit of Augustin; or he had simply ap-
pealed to the fact—as was done also by
other advocates of the doctrine of absolute
predestination in this period —that while
many who had led a virtuous life till near
the close of their earthly existence, fell at
last, because they lacked the donum perse-
verantiz, into some grievous sin, died
with it cleaving to them, and hence were
lost, while others, on the contrary, after a
vicious life to the end, still repented on the
death-bed, and hence attained to blessedness,
as belonging to the number of the elect.
The practical Christian zeal of Faustus
would necessarily move him to take a posi-
tion directly opposed to such tenets, as, in
fact, he was moved thereby to controvert the
efficacy of a death-bed repentance in his
letter to Benedictus Paulinus.
2 TI. c. 8. Quum vero ipse sit conditor,
qui reparator, unus idemque in utriusque
operis preconio celebratur. Jure itaque
utriusque rei munus assero, quia scio me
illi debere, quod natus sum, cui debeo quod
renatus sum.
ων
δ i?
Sir OF FAUSTUS. GENNADIUS. 647
wholly supplanted by sin, as well as the universal inward revelation of
God by means of this universal religioso-moral sense, — between gene-
ral grace so understood, and special grace, by which he means, all that
was first bestowed on mankind through Christianity. But the relation
of these two kinds of grace to each other is defined by him quite other-
~ wise than it is in the work above mentioned. Although, as a general
thing, the grace of redemption, and in many cases, also, the calling, is
antecedent to all human merit, still the operation of that special grace
in man is dependent on the manner in which he has used that general
grace ; and in many cases the striving and seeking of the man which
proceeds from the former, the self-active bent of the free-will, is ante-
cedent to that which is imparted to the man by this special grace; a
thing which Faustus endeavors to show by examples similar to those
which the Semi-Pelagians had been accustomed to adduce since the
time of Cassian.1 He denominates the imperishable germ of good in
human nature, a spark of fire implanted within by the divine hand, which,
cherished by man, with the assistance of divine grace, would become
operative. He recognizes, therefore, a preparatory development of
the religious and moral nature even among the heathen, and contro-
verts those who were unwilling to allow, that by a faithful use of that
general grace, the heathen might have attained to the true service of
God. From this it might also be inferred, that Faustus was an oppo-
nent of the doctrine which taught that all the heathen would be uncon-
ditionally condemned ; and that it was his opinion, that the worthy
among them would still be led, after the present life, to faith in the
Saviour, and thereby to salvation; but on these points, he does not
express himself more distinctly. .
There is much good sense in the remarks of Faustus, where he com-
pares the two extremes in the mode of apprehending the relation of
grace to free-will, with the two extremes in the mode of apprehending
the doctrine concerning the person of Christ. As in the doctrine con-
cerning Christ’s person some gave undue prominence to the divine,
others to the human element ; and as the result of so doing, were led |
into errors which, on opposite sides, injured the doctrine of redemption, _
so he says it was also with the doctrine concerning human nature.
The moderate Faustus was, moreover, unwilling to be regarded as
the antagonist of Augustin. He himself cites from the latter a remark,
mentioning him with respect, although not with those enthusiastic ex-
pressions of reverence which characterize the adherents of the rigid
Augustinian scheme. A contemporary of Faustus, who entertained
the same views with himself, ventured to speak much more sharply of
Augustin. The presbyter Gennadius of Marseilles, a very moderate
Semi-Pelagian,* had the boldness, in his collection of brief notices re-
1 Quod aliquoties in dispositionibus nos- situs et ab homine cum Dei gratia nutritus
tris, non quidem in vite nostre primordiis, operatur.
sed duntaxat in mediis, gratias speciales et 8 He merely says of him, (II. 7:) Beatis-
ex accedenti largitate venientes voluntas simus pontifex Augustinus doctissimo ser-
nostra, Deo ita ordinante, preecedat. mone prosequitur.
2 Hoe in homine ignis interior a Deo in- 4 He acknowledges a prevenient grace,
648 CASARIUS OF ARLES.
specting the church-teachers, to say of Augustin, that by writing so
much, he had fallen into several errors of doctrine, and hence, also, had
given occasion to the exaggerated statements of the doctrine of absolute
predestination.!
Yet from this same cloister of Lerins went forth also church-teachers
who did not remain true to the Semi-Pelagian tendency which there
prevailed, but were led along by the study of Augustin and by the
development of their own inward life, to moderate views of Augustin’s
scheme of doctrine respecting grace, similar to those which are ex-
pressed in the book De vocatione gentium. At the head of this party
stood an individual whose unwearied, active, and pious zeal, ready for
every sacrifice in the spirit of love, and his great and successful labors
in a period and under circumstances of universal desolation, had gained
for him deserved respect, the bishop Czesarius of Arles,? who had been
drawn to embrace this doctrine simply by that tendency of Christian
feeling which led him to refer every thing to God, and to acknowledge
his kindness in every blessing ; and since in holding fast only to this
interest of practical Christianity, he carefully avoided all the excesses
which might do violence to any Christian feeling, he could hardly fail,
by this means, of contributing the more towards opening the way for
the admission of this scheme of doctrine. Besides this, distinguished
bishops and clergymen from the church of North Africa, on whose
theological culture the spirit of Augustin had exerted an important
influence, warm and zealous adherents of his peculiar scheme of faith,
had been driven by the persecution of the Vandals, to take refuge in
Sardinia and Corsica. Among these, the most eminent was Fulgentius,
bishop of Ruspe in Numidia, who took up his abode in Sardinia.
These persons also contributed, by the weight of their authority, to
bring about at last, a decision of the controversy between the Semi-
Pelagian and the Augustinian parties. But the impulse whereby
which calls men to salvation; but he at-
tributes to the free-will the capacity of
choosing by itself the good, or of following
the call of grace. Manet ad querendam
salutem arbitrii libertas, sed admonente
prius Deo et invitante ad salutem, ut vel
eligat vel sequatur. De ecclesiasticis dog-
matibus, 6. 21.
1 De yiris illustribus, c. 88. Multa lo-
quenti accidit, quod dixit per Salomonem
Spiritus Sanctus: In multiloquio non effu-
gies peccatum, Prov. 10, 19. And when he
speaks afterwards of an error illius sermone
multo contractus, he evidently means the
doctrine of predestination, though it cannot
be certainly determined, whether by the
words lucta hostium exaggeratus, he means
to say that he fell into this mistake by ex-
aggeration in controversy, or that this error
was afterwards carried to an extreme by the
enemies of Augustin, as he would consider
the Predestinatians to be. Still more ob-
scure are the remarks of Gennadius which
follow.
2 He became in the year 501 bishop of
Arles, died in 542, at the age of 73. Asa
bishop he was distinguished for his zeal in
the business of religious instruction, and
that of such a sort as had for its end the
advancement of a vital, practical Christian-
ity. These traits of his character we learn
from his sermons, which are to be found
partly in the fifth volume of the Benedictine
edition of Augustin, partly in the collections
of the church fathers, and in part have
been published by Baluz. A complete col-
lection, critically compiled, of these ser-
mons, conveying so much important. infor-
mation respecting the character of Ceesarius
and his times, —a fact to which the authors
of the hist. lit. de la France refer —still re-
mains a desideratum. He is to be ranked
along with those other men who knew how
to assuage by the glowing zeal of Christian
charity, and whatever that can do, even the
physical distress of those times of desola-
tion. See his biography by a disciple, at
the 27th of August in the Actis Sanctorum.
RENEWAL OF THE CONTROVERSY. HORMISDAS. 649
this whole matter was set in agitation anew, proceeded from two other
quarters.
The work of Faustus of Rhegium had found its way among the foreign
clergy residing at Constantinople, where it created a lively sensation, —
some condemning, others defending it. Certain monks from the dis-
tricts bordering on the Black sea, (Scythian monks, as they were
called) who sought to establish their authority everywhere as zealous
champions of orthodoxy, fiercely assailed this work also. This was
under the reign of the emperor Justin, in 520, and at that time Jus-
tinian and Vitalian, men who stood atthe head of civil affairs, took a
lively part in this as in all other doctrinal disputes. They induced the
North-African bishop Possessor, who resided at Constantinople, to pro-
pose the matter in the form of a question, to the Roman bishop Hor-
misdas. The latter replied to the question with a freedom of spirit
and moderation, the more remarkable as coming from a bishop of
Rome ; whether the fact was, that these qualities, which did not so
eminently characterize him in other relations, were the cause of his
conduct, or that he acted according to the policy of Roman bishops,
who were never willing to offend any important doctrinal party. This
author — he declared — did not belong to the class, whom men regarded
as fathers of the faith. But men should treat him as they should every
other ecclesiastical writer; that is, adopt whatever he taught which
agreed with pure doctrine, and reject whatever was at variance with it.
There was but one foundation, on which every solid structure should be
erected; each must take heed for himself, and see whether he built
upon this foundation what was valuable or worthless. Nor was ita
censurable thing to peruse writings in which errors were to be found.
All that deserved rebuke, was, when men sought to propagate those
errors. On the contrary it was a laudable diligence, when men
searched through many writings, and following the maxim of Paul, ex-
amined all things, and held fast that which is good. Often times it
was necessary in order to obtaim information with regard to that by
which opponents might be refuted.? For the rest, he went on to say,
that various writings of Augustin, and especially his tracts addressed
to Hilary and Prosper, were regarded as models of orthodoxy in respect
to the doctrines of grace and of free-will, and declared himself ready to
transmit to Constantinople specific articles on these pomts, which repre-
sented the doctrine of the Roman church, and which were to be found
in the church archives.2 Those monks, however, were by no means
satisfied with this declaration of the Roman bishop; it seemed to them
a self-contradiction, to make Augustin’s writings a rule of the pure doc-
trine concerning grace, and yet not condemn the work of Faustus, which
1 Quos in. auctoritate patrum recipit exa- niunt; sed sequentes. Quod si ita non
men catholice fidei.
2 Nec improbatur diligentia per multa
discurrens ; sed animus a veritate declinans.
Sepe de his necessaria providetur, de qui-
bus ipsi emuli convincantur, instructio, nec
vitio dari potest nosse quod fugias; atque
ideo non legentes incongrua in culpam ve-
VOL. Il. 50
esset, nunquam doctor ille gentium acquie-
yisset nuntiare fidelibus: Omnia probate,
quod bonum est, tenete.
8 In scriniis ecclesiasticis expressa Capit-
ula. Perhaps those capitula joined with
the decretals of Coelestin.
650 SYNOD OF ORANGE. FINAL DECISION.
was opposed to them. They had the boldness to write with great
warmth against the decretals of the Roman bishop, not beimg able to
persuade themselves, as they pretended, that they really proceeded
from him.
They sent the work of Faustus to those bishops who had been driven
from North Africa, at whose head stood Fulgentius, bishop of Ruspe,
and asked them to signify their agreement with the doctrines expounded
by themselves, relative to this and to another subject. Fulgentius was
thus led to write several works in refutation of Semi-Pelagianism, and
in defence of the system of Augustin, in which he explamed and un-
folded the latter with logical consistency. Moreover, in domg this, he
carefully avoided the harsh points of the Predestinatian view of the
matter. He severely censured those who talked of a predestination to
sin. He spoke indeed of a two-fold predestination, (preedestinatio du-
plex ;) but by this he understood either the election to eternal happi-
ness of those who were good by the grace of God, or the predestina-
tion of those who were sinners by their own choice, to deserved pun-
ishment. ;
In the south of France, also, this subject was agitated anew; anda
synod held at Orange, (Arausio) in 529, confirmed a scheme of doc-
trine drawn up by the bishop Ceesarius of Arles, by whom the doctrine
of grace was expounded in opposition to Semi-Pelagianism as well as to
Pelagianism ; and hence also the doctrine of prevenient grace, as the
cause of even the first motions of all goodness, in the strict sense of
Augustin. No man—it was asserted among other things — has any-
thing which can strictly be called his own, but falsehood and sin. But
whatever of truth or goodness man possesses, flows from that fountain, ©
after which we must thirst in this wilderness, that quickened and
revived by some drops from it, we may not faint by the way. In the
spirit of the genuine Augustinian doctrine, it was affirmed that man
could not have preserved himself even in his original condition without
God’s assistance. Conformably to the mild, pious spirit of Czesarius,
this council declared strongly against the Predestinatian extravagances,
in such expressions as the following: ‘That God’s power has predesti-
nated certain individuals to sin, we not only do not believe, but if there
are any who are inclined to believe a doctrine so monstrous, we con-
demn them with the utmost abhorrence.”’ A following council confirmed
these decrees; and also the Roman bishop, Boniface II, gave them his
approbation, and in the letter relating to them, he himself declared
that those were offshoots of Pelagianism who refused to acknowledge
prevenient grace to be the cause of faith, but considered that to be a
work of the corrupted nature, which, however, could only be a work of
Christ.1 .
Thus had the Augustinian scheme of doctrine concerning grace as
the operating cause of all goodness obtained the victory, on this side
also, over Semi-Pelagianism. But still, the predomimant practical
1 Ut ad Christum non credant Dei bene- tum, auctorem nostre fidei dicant magis
ficio, sed naturse veniri, et ipsius natures esse quam Christum
bonum, quod Adz peccato noscitur deprava-
THE CONTROVERSY IN THE EAST. THEODORE OF MopsuESTIA. 651
Christian tendency of those from whom this victory proceeded in South-
ern France, was the cause that among these articles nothing was estab-
lished on the doctrines of absolute predestination and irresistible grace ;
while also at Rome there would perhaps be an aversion to express pro-
positions which were abhorrent to the Christian feelings of so many.
This latter result of the controversies was important in its influence
on the succeeding times ; for thus it could happen, that many, although
they received the prevailing scheme of grace, yet on account of the
practical objections in their own religious and moral feelings, avoided
expressing the doctrine of absolute predestination, which had not
been in so many words established by any public determinations of
doctrine.
On the development of doctrine in the Oriental church, these con-
troversies peculiar to the West had but little influence, and they
excited but little interest, except where more importance came to be
attached to them on account of their connection with other disputes, as
in the case of the proceedings with Nestorius. Theodore of Mopsues-
tia alone seems to have taken a lively interest in these controversies,
and his participation in them can be rightly understood and judged,
only when considered with reference to his peculiar views of human
nature, which were closely connected with his whole system of doctrine.
And here we have to lament that no information, except of the most
vague and indefinite character, has reached us respecting his outward
relations with regard to the matter in question.
Julian of Eclanum refers in his writings! to his agreement with
Theodore. He took pains to visit him, in hopes of being able to unite
with him in a system of faith. Theodore himself wrote a work, which
was manifestly directed against the advocates of Augustin’s system —
“ against those who affirmed that men sinned from nature and not with
design.””? This work, as it should seem, was pointed especially against
Jerome, whom Theodore represents as the author of that whole new,
blasphemous system, according to which, things were asserted of the
divine Being, which could not possibly be conceived to be so, even in
men of ordinary intelligence and uprightness. Jerome, who resided at
Bethlehem, might be far better known by him than Augustin, who lived
at so great a distance ; and hence he ascribes the spread of all these
doctrines to the influence of Jerome on the Western church.®
1 Marius Mercator, in his tract on the
symbolum Theodori Mopsuesteni, says, in
the prefatory letter addressed to the reader,
that Julian in his writings bestows un-
bounded praise on Theodore. He may
have done this in writings that are lost; but
it may also be an exaggeration. In what
still remains to us of the writings of Julian,
there is but one passage to be found (in Au-
gustin. opus imperfect. 1. IIT. c. 111) where
he names Theodore along with Chrysostom
and Basil as witnesses of the truth.
2 Πρὸς τοὺς λέγοντας φύσει καὶ οὗ γνώμῃ
πταίειν τοὺς ἀνθρώπους. Phot. cod. 177.
8 Marius Mercator (opp. ed. Garnier, f.
97) says, that Theodore’s work was aimed
against Augustin, and a good deal which
Theodore said against his opponents, ac-
cording to the citations of Mercator in his
second excerpt, f. 103, may beyond question
apply very properly to Augustin: Quippe
qui in divinis scripturis nequaquam fuerit
exercitatus, nec ab infantia juxta Ὁ. Pauli
yocem sacras didicerit literas — which seems
not to apply so well to Jerome, who at so
early an age had already engaged in bibli-
cal studies. Sed sive de scripture sensibus,
sive de dogmate spe declamans, multa
frequenter inepta de ipsis scripturis dog-
matibusque plurimis imprudenter depromp-
652 ANTHROPOLOGY OF THEODORE
Yet if we follow the account of Marius Mercator, Theodore, at some
later period, must have altered his views on these disputed questions ;
for it is said that he was member of the synod held in Cilicia, at which
the sentence of condemnation on the doctrines of Julian was pronounced
after his departure. But it may be asked whether, and how far, the
account which comes from so passionate an author, deserves confidence.
It is very possible indeed that Theodore, who in the outset had only
glanced at the fact that the Pelagian system was opposed to that of
Augustin, and in this respect entirely agreed with it, after having be-
come more accurately acquainted with the system of Julian, observed
many points of difference between his own doctrinal scheme and the
Pelagian, as in fact the relation of the doctrine of redemption in the
two systems constituted an essential difference between them ; yet it
may still be a question whether, considermg the very imperfect knowl-
edge which Theodore could have had respecting the mode of treating
doctrinal subjects in the Western church, it was easy for him to become
clearly aware of this difference. ‘The affinity as well as the disagree-
ment between the doctrines of Pelagius and of Theodore will be readily
seen from a brief statement of the connection of ideas in the Anthro-
pology of the latter.
Theodore ascribed to man the most important place m the evolution
of the universe. He was to be the representative and revealer of God
for the entire spiritual and sensible creation, the common bond uniting
both worlds ;— a theory in which Theodore approximated nearly to the
doctrines of the Gnostics, from which otherwise he was so far removed.
After having sought, in his exposition of Genesis, to refute the different
sit: nam potentie motus nullum contra
sinebat effari; sed tantummodo taciti, qui
divinarum scripturarum habebant notitiam,
detrahebant. Then concerning the present
disputed point: Novissime vero in hanc
dogmatis excidit novitatem cxt. But, still,
it may be certainly gathered from the notice
of the contents of the work in Photius, cod.
177, that the book was aimed against Je-
rome, whom he calls Aram. In this book
he very unjustly objects to Jerome the fifth
gospel invented by him, (the gospel of the
Nazarenes, which he translated ;) his con-
tempt of the ancient Greek translators of
the Old Testament, and his own new trans-
lation, undertaken without any knowledge
of the sense of the Old Testament, under
the influence of earthly-minded Jews. It
is possible, indeed, to reconcile the discrep-
ancy between Marius Mercator and Photius,
by supposing the work was aimed at one
and the same time against Augustin and
against Jerome. But, according to Photius,
Theodore represented Jerome as being the
inventor of this blasphemous system; and
he traced the spread of it in the Western
church solely to the influence of the writings
of Jerome, which were there circulated.
And now on more accurate examination it
will be found, that what he says, according
to the report of Mercator, admits very well
of being applied to Jerome; nay, a good
deal, considering the position held by Theo-
dore, admits better of being applied to him
than to Augustin. For when Theodore
speaks of absurd opinions which that indi-
vidual. had taken pains to circulate even
before this controversy, it may well be
doubted. whether he could have learned so
much in this respect with regard to Augus-
tin. On the other hand, with regard to Je-
rome, who often, for example, followed the
allegorical expositions of Origen, he might
very early have learnt a good deal which
would appear singular enough to him,
judged from his own point of view. What
he says respecting the despotic influence of
the person, applies very well to the relation
in which Jerome stood with those around
him. And though Jerome had for many
years been engaged in biblical studies, vet
the Syrian, who was born in a country
where the bible constituted the foundation
ofthe earliest training, might be very likely
to make this objection to him, especially as
he evidently wrote in a violent passion, and
even, according to the quotations of Photius,
actually allowed himself in so many unjust
sccnaiionE grounded in the perversion of
acts.
OF MOPSUESTIA. 658
explanations given of the image of God in man, as partial and failing
to exhaust the whole subject, he approves of this one view as embrac-
ing the whole, namely, that man, as in fact the very notion of an image
implies, was destined to manifest God, who was represented by him as
by an image, to the entire creation — a pregnant idea, which it must
be allowed he in part reduced too much within the province and caleu-
lations of the understanding judging by sense: ‘‘ Just as a monarch,”
said he, “ after having built a great city, and embellished it with many
and various works, when the whole is completed, causes a great and
magnificent image of himself to be erected in the centre of the city,
that its builder may thereby be known —and as all the inhabitants
must honor this image in order thereby to express their gratitude to the
founder, so the Creator, after he had embellished the world with his
manifold works, finally produced man as his own image, to bind together
all the works of creation by their common reference to man’s advan-
tage. The elements, the starry host, and the invisible powers, Heb.
1: 14, work together for the service of man. Thus man was to form
the common bond of union for the whole universe. Both worlds are
knit into fellowship by the union of soul and body.” ! Also in his com-
mentary on the epistle to the Romans, recently published, Theodore
expresses the view: “ that God formed man with a view of uniting the
visible with the invisible in one, and made him, as it were, a pledge of
harmony in the universe. For the visible serves to promote his advan-
tage, as we learn from experience itself; but the spiritual powers
preside over the sensible, guiding them so as to promote our advantage.?
From the position held by man as God’s image in the universe, he ex-
plains the different relations of the angels to man. In like manner as
the servants of the king pay all honor and respect to hts image, but the
insurgents endeavor to tear it down, so the angels maintain this differ
ent bearing towards God’s image in man.? But, although man was fur-
nished by God with all the requisite faculties. for attaining and accom-
plishing this high destination, as, for example, with reason and free-will ;
yet still, he was not directly adequate to accomplish 10. Human nature,
furnished with these faculties, must, in the first place, in order to be
able rightly to employ them, be interpenetrated by a principle of
divine life. As when left to itself it is exposed, since it is a finite
nature, to fickleness and change, it must first be raised above itself by
means of communion with God ;—its spiritual and moral powers must
first receive thereby an unchangeable direction. And from man this
new unchangeable direction was to pass over to the whole spiritual cre-
ation. Theodore supposed generally, as we have already remarked,
1 See J. Philopon. de creatione, VI. 10
and 17, and Theodoret. quest. in Genesin I.
20. It is evident from comparing the pas-
sages that Theodoret in this place took the
greatest part of what he says from Theo-
dore.
2 Βουλόμενος εἰς ἕν τὰ πάντα συνῆφϑαι,
πεποίηκε τὸν ἄνϑρωπον ὥσπέρ τι φιλίας ἐν-
ἔχυρον τοῖς πᾶσ!" χρῆσιμα μὲν γὰρ αὐτῷ τὰ
VOL. II. 55*
φαινόμενα, ὡς αὐτῇ τῇ πείρᾳ μανϑάνομεν.
᾿Εφεστᾶσι δὲ αὐτοῖς αἱ νοηταὶ φύσεις, πρὸς τὸ
ἡμῖν ὠφέλιμον αὐτὰ κινοῦσαι. Spiceleg. Rom.
T. IV. ed. Maji, p. 527.
8 Οἱ μεν εὐνοοῦντες ἄγγελλοι TO ϑεῷ προ-
ϑύμως τὴν διακονίαν, ἐφ᾽ ἢ ἀποστέλλονται
πληροῦσι, διὰ τὴν ἡμετέραν σωτηρίαν, ὁ διά-
βολος δὲ καὶ οἱ δαίμονες πρὸς τὴν ἀνθρώπων
ἐπιβούλην πάντα ποιοῦσιν. Philopon. VI. 10.
654 ANTHROPOLOGY OF THEODORE
two periods of development in the whole spiritual creation, the change-
able state of the spiritual creation left to itself, and the unchangeable-
ness of the spiritual creation interpenetrated by a divine principle of
life! Hence, at the first stage, the appearance of moral evil, (the pro-
bation to which beings are subjected in their mutability,) not merely in
the human nature, but also in the higher world of spirits.2_ It was first
through Christ that human nature was to be exalted to that condition
of imperishable, immutable divine life ; —it was first through Him, in-
deed, that the image of God in human nature was to become realized
in its fullest extent. The first man, therefore, could possess no preémi-
nence in this respect. He was by his own nature created mortal —as.
Theodore endeavored to demonstrate from the essential nature of the
human organism; but still God threatened the first man with death,
and placed before him death in connection with sin, because this was
a wholesome and salutary thing for man’s discipline. The omniscient
God would not otherwise have given him a command which he foreknew
that he would not be able to keep. But he permitted sin, because he
knew, that this would in the end redound to man’s salvation. He pro-
ceeded with man, like the wisest and most affectionate father, accord-
ing to a deeply laid scheme of education. He would lead him, by him-
self, to the consciousness of his own weakness. He would cause him
to come, of himself, to perceive that in his then moral state he was
unfitted to sustain an immortal existence, and that this would not make
him happy. For this reason death was announced to man by God as
the punishment for his disobedience, although God by no means first
suspended death over human nature as the punishment of sin; but
from the beginning had created it mortal. Man was im the first place
to become acquainted with virtue and learn to practice it by self
development in the practical antagonism between good and evil.’
Theodore compares the state of the first man, who must be led, by
means of a law given to him, to distinguish between good and evil, with
the state of all his posterity, to whom laws have been given for the same
reason. He compares the sin of Adam with the sins committed by his
posterity in the transgression of the law. “ ‘The example of Adam,”
says he, ‘‘ serves to make clearly apparent the nature of the law. He
might have partaken freely of all the fruits, had there not been pre-
scribed to him a law of abstinence; and it was no sin for him to wish
to partake of that particular fruit with the rest : but when he received
a law bidding him to abstain from eating that fruit, the desire of which
however was within him, and when he was restrained by the law, since
he held it a sin to eat of what was forbidden, —in this, sin found a
1 Ap. Marium Mercatorem Excerpt. f. 8 Vid. Catena Nicephori, I. ἡ. 98. ‘Ore
100. Quod placuit Deo, hoc erat in duos
status dividere creaturam; unum quidem,
qui prxsens est, in quo mutabilia omnia
fecit; alterum autem, qui futurus est, cum
renovans omnia ad immutabilitatem trans
feret.
2 He referred to versa multoties decem
millia demonum, in which apocryphal book
he may have found this.
ΕΣ
τῷ ϑνητῷ βίῳ τὸν ἄνϑρωπον ηὐτρεπίζεν, αὐτὸ
τὸ σχῆμα τοῦ ἄῤῥενος καὶ τοῦ ϑήλεος δεικνῦσιν,
ἐν ty δυνάμει τὴν παιδοποιίαν εὐϑὺς καὶ ἐκ
πρώτης δεικνύμενον" ὥστε ἡ μὲν πλάσις HTOL-
μάσϑη τῷ ϑνητῷ βίῳ: ἡ δὲ τῆς ἐντολῆς δόσις
καὶ τὸ αὐτεξούσιον προεγύμνασε καὶ ἔδωκε τῇ
γνώμῃ τῶν; αὐϑαίρετων ἀγώνων τὴν πρόφασιν
καὶ τὸ τῆς ϑνητότητος συμφέρον ἔδειξεν.
OF MOPSUESTIA. 655
foot-hold, inasmuch as the law restrained from eating, but Adam would
not look to the reverence due to the law, but believed the words of the
tempter, and surrendered himself wholly to the desire of eating. And
not only was this occasion of sin to him, but we also may learn from it,
that it does not become us to follow the enticements of our desires.’’ 1
“This passage deserves notice, as clearly showing how Theodore con-
ceived of the origin of the first sin wholly after the analogy of every
other sin taking place under the ordinary conditions of human life. It
is a characteristic exemplification of that mode of apprehension by the
understanding after the notices of sense and experience, which was
combined with his systematizing spirit. So he says concerning the ne-
cessity of the law in the present life, by means of which the power of
discrimination within us is excited and called forth, since we learn what
we have to shun and what we have to do, so that even the reason
within us is active :? “ Without the law, there could be no such thing
as distinguishing between good and evil ; we should, like the irrational
brutes, do whatever immediately occurred to us.” ? Death, in the case
of all the posterity of Adam, he describes as the punishment of each
one’s own sin; as in commenting on Rom. 5:13, where he says:
** Death becomes master of all who have in any way sinned; for
although Adam’s sin was not the same in kind with the sins of other
men, yet the others have not been exempted from death, but in what-
soever way they may have sinned, they have received on this account
the sentence of death: for death was not threatened as the penalty of
that particular sin, but as the punishment for all sin.”’4 The mortal
body under the dominion of sensuous wants he regarded as the source
of many temptations to sin. In this sense, he explains the words in
Rom. 5 : 21, that sin hath reigned unto death.® Tims he explains the
passage in Rom. 5:18: “As Adam’s sin made the rest of mankind
mortal, and thereby inclined to sin, so Christ has bestowed on us the
resurrection, so that we might live in perfect righteousness in an im
mortal nature free from all sin.””® Understanding the creation (κτίσις)
in Rom. 8 : 19, as referring to the angels who became estranged from
man by sin, and reconciled with him again by the redemption, he says:
“ When, by the pronounciation of the sentence, Adam became mortal,
the soul became separate from the body, and the union of the creation
into one whole, which was to be brought about through man, was dis-
solved,’ the higher spirits were disturbed, and they were not friendly
to us, since we were the guilty cause of so great an evil. But when,
in the process of time, men, continually degenerating, drew down on
1 Comment. in ep. ad Roman. p. 516.
3 Ὅτι ἀναγκαίως μὲν κατά τὸν παρόντα
βίον νόμοις πολιτευόμεϑα' ὑφ᾽ ὧν ἣ ἔμφυτος
ἀνακινεῖται διάκρισις, παιδευομένων ὧν τὲ
ἀπέχεσϑαι καὶ ἁ ποιεῖν προσῆκει. ὥστε καὶ τὸ
λογικὸν ἐν ἡμῖν ἐνεργὸν εἶναι,
8. c. p. 517.
4 Οὐ γάρ ἐπειδὴ οὐχ ὁμοῖον ἣν τὸ τῆς ἁμαρ-
τίας εἶδος τό Te τοῦ Αδὰμ καὶ τῶν λοιπῶν
ἀνϑρώπων͵ ϑάνατον γεγόνασιν ἐκτὸς οἱ λοιποὶ,
ἀλλ᾽ ὑπέρ ὧν ἡμάρτανον ὁπωσδήποτε τοῦ ϑαν-
Grov τὴν ἀπόφασιν ἐδέξαντο πάντες" οὐ γὰρ
τῆς τοιᾶσδε ἁμαρτίας τιμωρία ὁ ϑάνατος
ὥρισται, ἀλλὰ πάσης ἁμαρτίας. L. ο. p. 504.
δ Μεΐζονα περὶ τὸ ἁμαρτάνειν ῥοπὴν ϑνητοὶ
γεγονότες ἐσχήκαμεν. LL. c. p. 506.
otic
τ Ὁ μηχανηϑεὶς διὰ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου σύνδεσ-
μος τῆς κτίσεως διελύετο. 1,. c. p. 528
656 ANTHROPOLOGY OF THEODORE OF MOPSUESTIA.
themselves the sentence of death,! they despaired of us, and conceived
a great hatred towards us. Hence, moreover, they were unwilling to
do any more for our help, turning their backs upon us as aliens. What
took place after this? The Lord announced to them, that he would
work out our restoration, awaken us and make us immortal; so that
they need not fear any change and dissolution of the common bond of
the creation. Thus they were once more made joyful, when they re-
ceived this promise ; when they learned that divine grace would heal
the evil brought about by our guilt, and abundantly restore to us what
we had lost by our own fault; that then the common bond of the uni-
verse would never again be dissolved, and the harmony of creation
would remain indestructible. And in this hope— says he— they were
ready to do anything for us.”? If we took all this in an isolated man-
ner, and without reference to its connection with the whole system, we
should not perceive here that Theodore entertained any peculiar views,
differing from those which generally prevailed, on the connection be-
tween sin and death.
From this exposition of the anthropology of Theodore, it is plain,
that in contending against the system of Augustin, he must have coin-
cided in many points with the Pelagians; and in general, it may be
said that many points of coincidence are to be found in their respective
doctrines of human nature. There were the same views of the original
weakness of man’s nature, of the consequences of the first sin, of man’s
‘inalienable freedom as opposed to the doctrine of a constraining grace
and of predestination. But the great difference between the two sys-
tems was this ;—that in the Pelagian, the doctrine of a redemption
and of a Redeemer had no foothold whatever, while in Theodore’s system
it had a thoroughly essential one, and indeed constituted the central
point of the system. Human nature, nay, the nature of all created
spirits, is, according to this system, so constituted from the beginning,
that it could no otherwise than by a redemption attain to its final desti-
nation. Only in the system of Theodore, the Redeemer does not, as in
that of Augustin, appear preéminently as the restorer of corrupted
nature, but as the author of a new creation in the world of men and of
spirits, whereby the original creation is raised to a higher development,
extending beyond the limits of the finite nature. Grace appears here,
not so much to heal and restore nature, as to exalt and to ennoble it.
Hence Theodore could, without any mention of original sin, claim for
children also the fellowship of Christ, in order that their natures might
be brought to share in those blessings which can flow only from this
fellowship of divine life with him. With this idea was intimately con-
nected, indeed, his peculiar mode of apprehending the person of Christ,
of which we have spoken before. Hence, according to his theory, in
the case of Christ, as in that of all men and of the whole creation, that
1 Ἐπέσφιγγον ἑαυτοῖς τοῦ ϑανάτου τὴν 2 Καὶ μὲν "" ὁ καϑολοῦ σύνδεσμος διάλυσιν
ἀπόφασιν. This is intended to express the οὐδεμίαν ἐπιδεχόμενος τοῦ λοιποῦ, μενεῖ δὲ
persistency with which they ever continued ἄῤῥηκτος καὶ τῇ κτίσει πρὸς ἑαυτὴν ἡ φιλία.
to make themselves still more worthy of the L.c. p, 529.,
death which had been once pronounced on
them.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF CHRYSOSTOM. 657
refinement and elevation of nature which was to be first fulfilled in
him, must be conditioned on the antecedent free development of that
nature. And in this view of the work of redemption, as being preémi-
nently a new ennobling creation, not a healing of corruption, Theodore
may in fact have secured a point of union and sympathy generally
‘between himself and what belonged peculiarly to the Oriental church
doctrine, which in his system was only more distinctly set forth in op-
position to other modes of apprehension, and placed on a more system-
atic foundation in connection with his whole doctrine of human nature.
It is at the same time also noticeable, that while Theodore so zeal-
ously contended against the doctrine of a divine causality of evil, and so
strenuously insisted on the doctrine of a self-determining freedom as
the condition of all development in the spiritual world, still his princi-
ple led him to regard sin as a necessary transition point in the develop-
ment of the spiritual world, while an ultimate universal destruction of
sin by the redemption was at the same time grounded in that system ;
which last result, as we shall see hereafter, Theodore did in fact actu-
ally express with clear consciousness.
From the Antiochian school proceeded Chrysostom ; who differed,
however, from his early friend Theodore, in possessing a spirit more
practical than systematic ; and this difference had also an influence
especially on his peculiar mode of apprehending the doctrines of which
we are here speaking. We find in him that form of doctrine which
chiefly prevailed in the Oriental church, and which sprung up there at
the same point of time when the Pelagian controversy broke forth in the
West. But his mild, predominantly practical and feebly systematizing
spirit, which was strongly disinclined to all stiff and harsh extremes,
could also most readily blend with the Oriental modé of apprehension
and genially work upon it. The whole peculiarity of his character,
the course of his life and training, would of themselves necessarily keep
him at a distance from the system of Augustin. His Christian life and
character had not been the result of any such violent crisis as we
observed in the case of Augustin ; but from his early youth it had har-
moniously developed itself under the influence of a profound study of the
sacred scriptures, and of pious friends and associates surrounding him
with a gentle atmosphere of Christian excitement. By a constantly
applied and earnest self-discipline in zealous efforts to attain to the ideal
of Christian holiness, as well as by incorporating the holy scriptures
into his inner life, and learning to understand them by means of a
rich inward experience, by all this he was preserved from the one-sided
views of the Pelagian anthropology. He-had come to learn from his
own inward experience, as well as from a deeper knowledge of scripture,
what the essential nature is of that divine principle of life which reno-
vates man’s nature. The study of the ancients, and his own free,
gentle and amiable temper, however, had also impelled him to search
after all the scattered rays of relationship to God in man’s nature
while yet unrenewed, and to embrace them with love wherever they
were to be found. Charity, the predominant element in his heart,
caused that he also, in contemplating the course of development of
658 ANTHROPOLOGY OF CHRYSOSTOM:
human nature from the beginning, should look upon the whole, chiefly
from that point of view which led him to trace the hand of a paternal
disciplinary love; and to this he felt compelled to subordinate punitive
justice. The sincere and lively feeling of the need of redemption,
which proceeded in his case from the depths of the Christian spirit, led
him to recognize the importance of the doctrine concerning grace ; but
his strong feeling of moral, free self-determination impelled him, too, to
set a high value on the free-will of man, as a necessary condition of all
the operations of grace. A Christian stoicism, pervaded and ennobled,
however, by the spirit of Christianity, and most intimately conjoined
with Christian humility, animated and inspired him. Firm and deeply
rooted in him was the conviction, to which he remained true under all
trials and sufferings, and which formed the great motto of his life, that no
power could injure that man who did not wrong himself, did not aban-
don and betray his own highest interests.
It appeared to the moral zeal of Chrysostom, an object of the highest
importance to deprive man of every ground of excuse for failing to put
forth moral efforts. His fields of practical labor at Antioch and Con-
stantinople encouraged and promoted in him this bent of mind; for in
these great cities he found many who, in the weakness of human nature,
in the power of Satan, or of fate, sought grounds of excuse for their
deficiences in practical Christianity.
These motives, from within and from without, had no small influence
in giving direction to the development of Chrysostom’s habit of thought,
especially on these subjects; and with his peculiar style of homiletic
composition, calculated upon, and adapted to, immediate practical
needs, his mode of exhibiting his thoughts and views depended very
much on the predominant interest which he was pursuing for the mo-
ment. His essential ideas are as follows:
«ς The first man lived like the angels, in a state of undisturbed blessed-
ness ;—hence he could the more easily lose sight of his dependence
on God. God gave him a precept, for the purpose of bringing him to a
sense of his dependence. He fell by his own moral negligence. As he
had rendered himself unworthy of the undisturbed enjoyment of happi-
ness, he was expelled from paradise, for his own profit, that so he
might train and discipline himself in conflict. His earlier state of com-
munion with God, in a life exempt from pain and from care, was a
type of the immortality to which he would have passed without a strug-
gle. But now his body became mortal, and accessible to many temp-
tations to sin.” 1} In explaining Romans 5: 19, Chrysostom says:
“‘This passage is not to be so understood, as if by the sin of one, all
became sinners; but that the condition of human nature, which to
the first man was a punishment, was thus transmitted to all his pos-
terity. But this change redounds only to man’s profit, if he is not
wanting as it respects his own will. He derives therefrom many cails
to despise things perishable, to strive after those that are heavenly, —
many opportunities for the development and exercise of the virtues.
1 Antithesis between the σῶμα ϑνητόν and παϑητόν, and the σῶμα ἀπαϑές
ANTHROPOLOGY OF NESTORIUS. 659
The examples of the ancient heroes of the faith prove this.’’? And accord-
ingly Chrysostom here takes occasion to express his favorite maxim :
if we but well, not only death, but even Satan himself shall never harm
us.! The sinning of Adam under circumstances so well adapted to
facilitate the practice of goodness, as contrasted with the good actions
of others performed under hard conflicts, he often brought forward as
an illustration of the truth so constantly present to his mind, that every
thing depends on man’s will, and except through this, nothing from with-
out, whether hurtful or helpful to him, can have any influence upon him.
Chrysostom was deeply penetrated with the feeling of the need of
redemption, of the need of a fellowship of life with Christ. With great
emphasis he announced the truth, which he found in the epistles of Paul,
as well as in his own heart, that justification, by which he understood
not merely forgiveness of sin, but also the communication of that more
exalted dignity and worth which far transcended the powers of the
limited finite nature, by means of the fellowship of life with Christ, was _
acquired, not by any merit or doing on the part of man, but by faith
alone.?. In the eighth homily on the first epistle to the Corinthians,
§ 4, he says: ‘Christ is the Head, we are the body. Can there be
anything intervening between the head and the body ? He is the vine,
we are the branches. We are the temple, he is its inhabitant. He is
the life, we are the living. He is the light, we are the enlightened.
All this points to union, and leaves no room for the least intervening
space.” But he felt it to be important also, to set everywhere dis-
tinctly forth, that to believe or not to believe depends on man’s self
determination ; that there was no such thing as a constraining grace,
not conditioned in its operations on the peculiar bent of man’s own
will ; but that all grace is imparted according to the proportion of the
will’s determination. Here, too, he attached the most importance to
the practical element — to counteract as well a proud self-confidence,
as moral inactivity and self-neglect. God draws us to himself, not by
force, but with our own free-will — says he, in the fifth homily on John,
§ 4. “* Only shut not the door against the heavenly light, and thou shalt
enjoy it abundantly.” ‘‘ God comes not, with his gifts before our will; but
if we only begin, if we only will, he gives us many means of salvation.” ὃ
Nestorius agreed in his views of human nature more nearly with
Chrysostom than with Theodore.!
1H. 10 in ep. ad Rom. § 3.
2 See 6. g. H. VIL. et VIL ep. ad Roma-
Nos.
ὃ Hom. 18 Joh. § 3.
* As may be gathered from the extracts
from his writings, and four of his sermons,
which Marius Mercator has preserved in.a
Latin translation, and of which sermons the
fourth still remains extant in the Greek
original under the name of Chrysostom.
See his works, ed. Montf. T. X. His vio-
lent enemy, Marius Mercator, acknowledges
himself the Anti-Pelagian drift. It may
During the same time that he was
be, that these sermons were, as he supposes,
preached in opposition to Pelagian opinions,
on occasion of the controversy excited
through the banished Pelagian bishops at
Constantinople; but we are in nowise under
the necessity of supposing this. Though
there might be some reference of this sort,
yet Nestorius probably had no design of
combatting the Pelagians, with whose doc-
trines he was so little acquainted; but
rather to shield himself against the charges
which his connection with those bishops had
perhaps drawn upon him.
660 COUNCIL OF EPHESUS CONDEMNS THE PELAGIANS.
involved in the controversy on the doctrine concerning Christ’s person,
Julian and Ccelestius, with several other bishops of like mind, who had
been deposed as Pelagians, came to Constantinople ; and they had
sought protection at the imperial court. They had also had recourse to
the patriarch. Nestorius was not disposed, like his predecessor A ttt
cus, to whom they had previously applied, to repel them at once, as .
men condemned hy the highest ecclesiastical authorities of the West.
Probably also the representations which they themselves made of their
cause, were calculated to render him favorably disposed towards
them, looking at the matter from the position of his own temperate
Antiochian Anthropology. Before deciding either for or against them,
he wrote to the Roman bishop Ccelestin, and requested of him a pre-
cise statement of the erroneous doctrines laid to their charge. He
wrote twice without obtaining an answer, as perhaps the pride of the
Roman bishop was hurt by the form of his interrogatory ; and this it
was, which did so much injury to the cause of Nestorius in his relations
with that prelate! At this time, the Marius Mercator, so often men-
tioned by us, was residing at Constantinople. He was probably a lay-
man from North Africa, who had some time before taken a lively part
in the Pelagian controversy,? and who was at the same time full of
suspicion as to the orthodoxy of the new patriarch, and one of his first
zealous antagonists. He was led by these transactions to distribute at
court among the bishops and nobles a memorial on the Pelagian matter,
which memorial had for its consequence, probably, at a later period,
when the authority of Nestorius was on the decline, the expulsion of
these refugees. The combination into which the Roman bishop entered
with the enemies of Nestorius might perhaps render the latter more
favorably disposed to those individuals who had met with persecution
from the same quarter. He wrote to Ceelestius a letter of condolence,’
exhorting him, as a persecuted witness of the truth, to a steadfast con-
fession, and inspiring him with the hope, that the storms which then
agitated the church, would also bring about a new investigation
redounding to his own advantage. Nestorius was, indeed, at the out-
set, expecting good would result from the council that was to assemble
at Ephesus.
These incidents were the occasion which led the Cyrillian party of
the council of Ephesus, out of homage to the authority of the Roman
bishop, to condemn, at the same time with Nestorius, the two leaders,
Pelagius and Ccelestius, and their adherents, respecting whom and
their doctrines they doubtless knew little or nothing, and about whom
they otherwise gave themselves little concern. But neither did the
Orientals wish by any means to be considered as Pelagians. On the
contrary, their delegates at Constantinople sought to make the party
of Cyrill suspected by the Western agents as men who had received
1 See above, p. 461. 8 Marius Mercator has translated it. See
2See Augustin’s reply to a letter of his his works, fol. 71.
of the year 418, ep. 193 among the letters of
Augustin.
DOCTRINE OF THE SACRAMENTS. 661
to their fellowship? heretics, Euchites, who taught the same doctrines
as Pelagius and Ceelestius.”
It continued still to be the prevailing tendency of the doctrine taught
in the Greek church, to preserve the medium between two extremes,
without entering into any very precise determinations of the relation
between free-will and grace. For the sake of illustration, we will here
take another example, and bring under one view the doctrines of a dis-
tinguished teacher of the Alexandrian church, the abbot Isidore of
Pelusium. “(ΒΥ reason of the first sin, the nature of the first man be-
came subject to the dominion of punishable things and to the excite-
ments of sensual pleasure.’ As in this state he went on propagating
his kind, the same condition was transmitted to his posterity, and the
evil was still augmented among men through the negligence of each
man’s individual will. There still remains, however, the seed of good-
ness ‘in human nature. They who fostered this, distinguished them-
selves ; they who suppressed it, were punished. Even for that which
proceeds from our own will, we need the assistance of divine grace.
But this is never wanting to any who are only willing to do what
belongs to themselves. There may, doubtless, in particular cases, be
such a thing as prevenient grace, although, according to the general
rule, grace is not prevenient — but there is no such thing as a constrain-
ing, irresistible grace. The assistance of grace is not such as that it
may not be forfeited and lost: by man’s own fault; not such as is be-
stowed without any efforts of his own. The grace which awakens even
those that are asleep, and impels even the not willing, will assuredly
not forsake those who choose the good of their own accord. The
words of our Lord: ‘ All men cannot receive this saying, save they to
whom it is given,’ Matth. 19 : 11, are in no wise to be so understood
as if the better part were bestowed on many by arbitrary determi-
nation ;° for in that case the kingdom of heaven would not be the
reward of conflict.’’ ©
d. Doctrine of the Sacraments.
The history of the doctrine concerning the church, especially among
the Latins, we have already unfolded sufficiently at large in the first
section. In the Greek church, it is true, the consequences flowing
from the confounding together of the visible and the invisible church,
of which we spoke in that section, were not in theory so systematically
elaborated and carried out, and in individual instances, as in the case
of Chrysostom and Isidore of Pelusium, there were gleams of a more
1 They knew perhaps but little about gius, in order to represent them, by a name
See
these latter; they had doubtless only heard,
that these men taught believers might at-
tain to perfect holiness, and hence were led
to compare the Euchites with them.
2Ta αὐτὰ φρονοῦντας Κελεστίῳ καὶ Πελα-
γίῳ, Εὐχῖται γάρ εἰσιν ἤγουν ᾿Ενϑουσιασταΐ.
It was by no means Pelagians, then, who
were meant, but Euchites ; described, how-
ever, as holding the same tenets with Pela-
VOL. Il. 56
better known in the West, as heretics.
the letter of the delegates to bishop Rufus,
ep. 170 among the letters of Theodoret. T.
IV. ed. Halen. p. 1352. '
8 Σῶμα ϑνητὸν καὶ παϑητόν.
4 Τὰ ἐις καλοκαγαϑίαν σπέρματα.
δ᾽ Αποκλήρωσις.
6 See 1. III. ep. 204, 1. IL ep. 2, III. 171,
111. 13, 111. 165.
6062 DOCTRINE OF THE SACRAMENTS.
spiritual apprehension of the notion of the church. Yet, on the whole,
the practical church life was not less governed here than in the West
by those principles growing out of the confusion of the visible and
invisible church, with regard to the authority of an outward church, of
tradition, of councils, and by the notions grounded. thereupon respect-
ing the nature and the effects of the sacraments.
The conception of the sacraments would of course be at first ex-
tremely vague: for there was not here, as in the case of other doc-
trines, a certain subject-matter already given in the sacred scriptures,
and in the Christian consciousness, which needed but to be more fully
developed ; but in this case the general conception must first be formed
from particulars, by the process of grasping together the common rela-
tions of these particulars to the Christian life and consciousness. In
addition to this, there were no fixed and settled grounds on which to
determine the choice of those objects themselves, which were to be
brought under this conception; and the difficulty was moreover
increased by the ambiguity and vagueness of the term, which had been
invented without any definite consciousness of its meaning. The term
sacramentum grew out of the translation of the Greek word μυστήριον ;
it was employed already in the preceding period, by a license allowa- ,
ble in the Latin use of the word, to denote any thing consecrated to a
holy use, any thing considered holy and sacred, and then applied some-
times to holy doctrines, sometimes to holy symbols. Already in the
preceding period, this designation had been applied particularly to bap-
tism, to the holy supper, and to the rite of confirmation ; but we
remarked in fact, already in the preceding period, the existence of an
inclination to multiply holy symbols in the church life. In this present
period, such a multiplication of symbols was promoted, especially in the
Greek church, by the prevailing liturgical, and in connection therewith,
mystico-theurgical tendency;! as we see exemplified in the spurious
writings of Dionysius the Areopagite, belonging to the fifth or sixth
century. Augustin is entitled to the credit of having first introduced
into this doctrme, in place of rhetorical exaggerations, a greater strict-
ness of doctrinal phraseology ; and by striving to seize it with clearer
consciousness in its connection with the Christian spirit, of furnishing
a counterpoise to the erroneous magico-theurgical tendency, which had
come to attach itself to the apprehension of these doctrines.
Augustin describes the sacraments as being visible signs representing
invisible, divine things, by means of which the divine matter is exhibited,
as it were, by writing, by outward language. We have in his theory,
therefore, the distinction between the invisible divine reality, the invisi-
ble divine power, the communication of the divine reality itself, and
the sacrament as its outward representative symbol, (the res divine
sanctee, the virtutes sacramenti, and the sacramentum.) Without such
outward symbols no religious society can subsist, whether growing out
1 It is easy to see how mysticism, accord- tuitions, or even assume an attitude of hos-
to the different traits of individuals, may tility against all attempts to sensnalize the
convert the objects of sense intosymbolsfor spiritual and divine.
the expression of its own feelings and in-
AUGUSTIN. 663
ef a true or of a false religion. Hence, such symbols were no less
necessary in Christianity than in Judaism. The one thing is the
eternal and unchangeable reality ; the other, its changeable expres-
sion, —just as words and written characters change, although that
which they signify remains the same.!
Τὺ was, therefore, possible for God, without departing from his un-
changeable counsels, to allow those external forms to change with the
vicissitudes of time, to which they were successively adapted. This was
urged by Augustin particularly against the Manichzeans, inasmuch as
they asserted, that if the Old Testament institutions really proceeded
from the same God as the New Testament, they could not have been
annulled by him. The outw&rd symbol has no power of conveying to
man the divine reality, unless man’s inward being is susceptible of
communion with God—a position which followed from Augustin’s
doctrine concerning grace;—and here came in the opposition to the
superstitious practices which grew out of the magical effects ascribed to
the sacraments, on which side the influence of Augustin, for the promo-
tion of vital Christianity, was felt in the succeeding centuries down to
the time of the Jansenist controversies. Nor is the divine substance
so necessarily connected with the outward signs, that the grace of God
cannot dispense with them.? But, in the usual order, the sacraments
are the appointed means for the communication of the divine reality ;
and whosoever despises them, excludes himself, by his contempt of the
divine institution, from all participation in the divine reality itself. The
sacrament, as a divine ordinance, retains its objective significance, inde-
pendent of the subjective character of him who receives it, as of him
who imparts it, though it redounds only to the condemyation of the indi-
vidual who administers or receives it unworthily. This position Augus-
tin was led to set forth distinctly in his controversy with the Donatists.
In reference to baptism, he often compared it with the sign marked
upon the soldiers as an emblem of the imperial service, which remained
ineffacible, and remained even with those who were unfaithful to the
service ; but, in that case, was only a testimony against them, (the stig-
ma militaris, character militaris, hence character indelebilis.) Augustin
regarded it as the peculiar mark of Christian freedom, as opposed to
Jewish bondage, not only that Christianity, as the religion of the spirit,
possessed but a few simple signs, easy to be observed, but also, that in
Christianity the sacraments were celebrated with the conscious knowl-
edge of that which they imported, and hence with freedom; while in
the Old Testament economy, on the other hand, they were celebrated
1 Quid enim sunt aliud quequecorporalia nus? Non enim Moses pro Domino, sed
sacramenta, nisi queedam quasi verba visi-
bilia, sacrosancta quidem, verumtamen mu-
tabilia et temporalia ?—In nullum nomen
religionis, seu verum seu falsum, coagulari
homines possunt, nisi aliquo signaculorum
vel sacramentorum visibilium consortio col-
ligentur. Augustin. c. Faustum, ]. XIX. c.
11 et 12, and Tractat. 80, in Joannem, ὁ 3.
2 Quomodo et Moses sanctificat et Domi-
Moses visibilibus sacramentis per ministe-
rium suum ; Dominus autem invisibili gratia
per Spiritam Sanctum, ubi est totus fructus
etiam visibilium sacramentorum. But he
pronounces it absurd to assert etiam istam
invisibilem sanctificationem sine visibilibus
sacramentis nihil prodesse. Queestionum
in Leviticum, |. 111. quest. 84.
664 THE SACRAMENTS. AUGUSTIN.
with reverential fear and awe, without this accompanying conscious-
ness ;— hence, the spirit was subservient to the outward symbols. The
understanding of the sacrament is evinced in this, that it reveals to con-
templation the love of God, and fires the heart with the love of God
and of man. The prophets, who knew how to distinguish the sign
from the divine thing signified, and reverenced in the former nothing
but the latter, lived, therefore, already in the spirit of freedom.!
In respect to the number of sacraments, the way had, in fact, long
since been prepared by the existing ideas relative to a particular
priesthood, to the outward transmission of the Holy Spirit from the
Apostles downwards by the imposition of hands, for apprehending the
rite of ordination as holding equal rank with the other three sacra-
ments.2. The mystical and symbolizing spirit of the Pseudo-Dionysian
writings led to the reception of two others besides the four sacraments
above noticed, namely, consecration to the monastic life, and the cere-
monials at the burial of the dead. Augustin, on the other hand, would
be led by his correct views respecting the free spiritual worship of God
as opposed to the slavish ceremonial religion in Judaism, to receive
but few sacraments; as, in fact, where he speaks of this opposition, he
names only baptism and the Lord’s Supper,? with the additional clause,
and any thing besides these, if it is recommended in the holy scrip-
tures. Yet, the conception which he had opened out of the sacrament
as a holy symbol, was still not stifficiently precise to exclude the intro-
duction of many other things ; and what Augustin found already existing
in the general usage of the church, he believed might be derived either
from apostolic tradition or the divine institution through general coun-
cils, and hence would adopt all such sacred usages and signs into his con-
ception along with the rest. Hence, he sided with the Western church,
where the prevailing rule was to allow four sacraments, which, in other
respects, too, fell in with his ideas ;* and in maintaining against the
Pelagains,® that obedience to the natural instinct is sanctified by the
religious and moral reference of the marriage union, he was led accord-
ingly to reckon the solemnization of marriage among the sacraments,
which, perhaps, might seem to him to be sanctioned by the use of the
word μυστήριον in this reference in the epistle to the Ephesians ;°® and,
sacraments.
ο. 8, 4 19.
1 Posteaquam resurrectione Domini nos-
tri manifestissimum judicium nostree liber-
Expositio epistole ad Galatos,
Comp. ep. 54. ep. 55 and 138 ad
tatis illuxit, nec eorum quidem signorum
operatione gravi onerati sumus; sed que-
dam pauca pro multis, eademque factw facil-
lima et intellectu augustissima et observa-
tione castissima, ipse Dominus et apostolica
tradidit disciplina. — Que unusquisque cum
percipit quo referantur, imbutus agnoscit,
ut ea non carnali servitute, sed spiritali po-
tius libertate veneretur. De doctrina Chris-
tiana, 1. III. §13. Nihil tam pie terret ani-
mum, quam sacramentum non intellectum ;
intellectum autem, gaudium pium parit et
celebratur libere, si opus est tempori — The
right antithesis to the deification of the
Januarium.
2 Thus it is placed together with baptism
and the Lord’s supper, in Gregory of Nyssa,
on the baptism of Christ. He who was
before εἷς τῶν πολλῶν, ἀοράτῳ τινὶ δυνάμει
καὶ χάριτι τὴν ψυχὴν μεταμορφωϑεὶς πρὸς τὸ
βελτίον. ᾽
8 Ep. 118.
~ 4 See 6. ep. Parmenian. 1. 11. ¢. 13.
5 When these accused him of making
marriage itself a sinful thing through his
idea of the concupiscentia as springing out
of sin.
6 De nuptiis et concupiscentia, 1. I. ο. 17.
GREGORY. CYRILL. CHRYSOSTOM, 665
at all events, the higher Christian conception of marriage lay at the
basis of what is there said.
As it respects the doctrine concerning baptism, from which, for rea-
sons stated under the preceding period, the doctrine of regeneration
was not severed, we must observe that the difference here again became
strongly marked, which we discern in the views of the Eastern compared
with those of the Western church, with regard to human nature and
the doctrine of redemption; namely, that in the Western church, with
original sin, the negative effect of the redemption in procuring deliver-
ance from this, and in the Eastern church, on the other hand, the pos-
itive effect of the redemption considered in the light of a new creation,
were made especially prominent. Thus Gregory of Nazianzus! calls
baptism a more divine exalted creation than the original formation of
nature.” Thus, too, Cyrill of Jerusalem, addressing the candidate for
baptism, says: ‘If thou believest, thou not only obtaimest the forgive-
ness of sins, but thou effectest also that which is above man. Thou
obtainest as much of grace asthou canst hold.””* This difference would
be strongly marked, especially in the case of infant baptism. Accord-
ing to the North-African scheme of doctrine, which taught that all
men were from their birth, in consequence of the guilt and sin trans-
mitted from Adam, subjected to the same condemnation, that they bore
within them the principles of all sin, deliverance from original sin and
inherited guilt would be made. particularly prominent in the case of in-
fant baptism, as in the case of the baptism of adults; and this was favored
by the ancient formula of baptism, which, however, originated in a pe-
riod when infant baptism had as yet no existence, and had been after-
wards applied without alteration to children, because men shrunk from
undertaking to introduce any change in the consecrated formula estab-
lished by apostolical authority, though Christians were by no means
agreed as to the sense in which they applied this formula. Accord-
ingly, says Gregory Nazianzen, to children baptism is a seal, (a means
of securing human nature in the germ against all moral evil by the
higher principle of life communicated to it ;) for adults it is, moreover,
forgiveness of sin and restoration of the image degraded and lost by
transgression. Hence, he looks upon infant baptism as a consecration
to the priestly dignity, which is imparted to the child from the begin-
ning, that so evil may gain no advantage over him.® In a homily ad-
dressed to the neophytes, Chrysostom specifies ten different effects of
grace wrought in baptism; and then he complains of those who make
the grace of baptism consist simply in the forgiveness of sin.6 ‘True, the
difference here becomes manifest between the more rhetorical Chrysos-
om and the systematic Augustin ; for the latter would have referred
Orat.
1 Orat. 40, de baptismo. ἔικονος διὰ τὴν κακίαν ἐπανόρϑωσις.
3 Πλάσις ϑειότερα καὶ τῆς πρώτης ὑψηλό-
τερα.
8 Cateches. 17, c. 17, 18, Ποιεῖς καὶ τὰ
ὑπὲρ ἀνϑρωπον.
4 Τοῖς μὲν ἀρχόμενοις σφραγὶς, τοῖς τελει-
ὄτεροις τὴν ἡλικίαν καὶ χαρίσμα καὶ πεσούσης
VOL. II. 56*
40, f. 640.
5 Μὴ λαβέτω καιρὸν ἡ κακία, ἐκ βρέφους
ἁγιασϑήτω. LL. ο. 648. [ ἐ
6 Vides quot sunt baptismatis largitates ;
et nonnulli deputant, ecelestem gratiam in
peccatorum tantum remissione consistere ;
nos autem honores computavimus decem.
666 THE SACRAMENTS. CHRYSOSTOM. ISIDORE.
those ten specifications to one fundamental conception, in which they
might all be summed up together. But at the basis of this difference
lay that other, which has already been noticed, in respect to the gene-
ral mode of Christian intuition. Hence Chrysostom adds: It is for this
reason we baptize also infants, though they are not, like others, stained
with sin, that so holiness, justification, adoption, heirship, and
brothership with Christ, may be imparted to them through Christ, that
so they may be members of Christ.
These words of Chrysostom are, indeed, known to us only in the
Latin translation, and through a citation of the Pelagian writer, Julian.?
But their genuineness is evinced by the fact that Augustin had
nothing to object to them on that score, but must seek to deprive Pela-
gianism of this support by giving the passage another interpretation.
And, in truth, this passage strictly accords with the peculiar character
already noticed, belonging to the type of doctrine not only of the Orien-
tal church generally, but of Chrysostom in particular. Julian was
wrong in explaining the words of Chrysostom wholly according to his
own sense, as if Chrysostom had meant to say, that human nature is
still born in the same state as it was at first ; for this is, in fact, at va-
riance with his doctrine concerning the innocence (ézadsia) lost by the
sin of the first man, (see above.) But if Julian was wrong in this sin-
gle respect, that he contemplated the words wholly out of their con-
nection with Chrysostom’s entire mode of thinking on doctrinal matters,
Augustin, on the other hand, manifestly tortured them, when he ex-
plained them according to fs system, as referring barely to the
absence of actual, personal sin; for, in this case, the antithesis made
by Chryscstom would, in fact, not hold good.
Isidore of Pelusium also replies to the question, why infants, who are
without sin, should be baptized,? in the following way. Some, who took too
narrow a view of the matter, said it was that they might be cleansed
from the sin transmitted to them from Adam. ‘This, indeed, he said,
was not to be denied, but it was not the only reason. This would still
be a thing not so great after all; but there would be besides many
other gracious gifts communicated to them, which far exceed any pos-
sible attainments of human nature. Infants were not only delivered
from the punishment of sin, but, moreover, had imparted to them a di-
vine regeneration, adoption, justification,® fellowship with Christ. The
remedy amounted to far more than the mere removal of an evil.®
Theodore of Mopsuestia seized in this case upon only one side or
moment of the Oriental church doctrine, which moment, in infant bap-
tism, was ever made the more prominent one ; but the other he drop-
ped entirely, as his system required that he should. It is, according
to his doctrine, the same state of human nature, mutable and liable to
temptation, in which the first man was created, (see p. 654,) and in
1 Hac de causa etiam infantes baptizamus, 4 Σμικρολογοῦντες.
cum non sint coinquinati peccato, ut eis ad- 5 Δικαΐωσις, here used, beyond doubt, in
datur sanctitas, justitia, adoptio, hzreditas, the sense of Augustin, viz., the making just,
fraternitas Christi, ut ejus membra sint. making holy by union with Christ. Ὁ
2 Vid. Augustin. c. Julianum, |. I. § 21. 6 No φαρμακὸν ἀντίρροπον τοῦ τραὕὔματος
ὃ Epp. V. 195.
THEODORE OF MOPSUESTIA. THE PELAGIANS. 667
which all infants are born. Baptism in the case of adults has a two-
fold purpose, to bestow on them the forgiveness of sin, and to exalt
them by fellowship with Christ to a participation in his freedom from
sin, and his moral immutability; which is the passing over from the
first portion of the development of life in humanity, into the second,
which is fully entered upon only at the general restoration, (see p.
657.) That which is received at baptism is the principle and pledge
of that freedom from sin (anamartesia) which will then first come to be
fully realized. In the case of infant baptism, then, the forgiveness of
sin, according to Theodore’s doctrine, does not properly come into con-
sideration ; but its purpose and object is simply the imparting of that
new and higher life exempt from sin, of which the entire human nature
stands in need. He distinguishes, accordingly, a two-fold meaning of
the forgiveness of sin, to the bestowment of which the formula of bap-
tism refers.1 He supposed, therefore, in this latter respect, the same
supernatural communication in the case of infant baptism as in the
case of the baptism of adults: though, following out the natural bent
of his acute and discriminating understanding, he carefully distinguished
here, too, that which is merely the symbol and vehicle, from that which
is the working principle, lest that should be ascribed to the magical ope-
ration of the water, which could only be ascribed to the agency of the
Holy Spirit.2 The water, he maintained, according to the comparison
employed by Christ in his conversation with Nicodemus, stood related
to the creative power of God in the new and higher birth, as the body
of the mother to the creative power of God in the, natural birth.?
This mode of apprehension was adopted, as we learn particularly
from the explanations of Ccelestius and of Julian, hy the Pelagians:
though it did not in their system rest upon the same foundation as in
the Oriental and in the Antiochian systems. In this way we must un-
derstand what Coelestius says in the creed which he sent to Rome: “ In-
fants must, according to the rule of the universal church, and according
to the declaration of the Gospel, be baptized in order to the forgiveness
of sin. Since our Lord has determined that the kingdom of heaven
can be bestowed only on the baptized, and since the powers of nature
are not adequate to this, it must be the free gift of grace.”! It is
1 So Theodore, in his address to the neo-
phytes: Renatus, alter factus es pro altero,
non jam pars Adam, mutabilis et peccatis
circumfusi; sed Christi, qui omnino incul-
pabilis per resurrectionem factus est. Act.
IV. Concil. ecumen. V. ο. 36. Ato ἀφέσεις
τῶν ἁμαρτίων, τὴν μὲν τῶν πεπραγμένων, THY
δὲ τὴν ἀναμαρτησίαν, ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτίων τελείαν
καὶ κυριώτατην καὶ ἀναίρεσιν ἁμαρτίας παν-
τελῆ. (The ambiguity which is attached to
the Greek word ἄφεσις by its etymology
here came to his assistance.) ᾿Ηρξάτο μὲν
ἐμφανίζεσϑαι ἀπὸ τῆς κατὰ τὸν δεσπότην
Χριστὸν οἰκονομίας καὶ ἐν ἀῤῥαβῶνος ἡμῖν
δίδοσϑαι τάξει. Διόδοται δὲ τελείως καὶ ἐπ’
αὐτοῖς ἔργοις καὶ ἐν τῇ μετὰ τὴν ἀνάστασιν
ἀποκατάστασει, ὑπὲρ ἧς ἵνα τύχωμεν καὶ
ἡμεῖς καὶ τὰ βρέφη βαπτιζομεϑα.
2 The water τὸ ἐν ᾧ πληροῦται τὸ ἔργον ;
the πνεῦμα ἐν τῷ ὕδατι τὴν οἰκείαν πληροῦν
ἐνεργείαν. τούτου γὲ ἕνεκα καὶ ἐν τῷ βαπ-
τίσματι τὸ μὲν πνεῦμα μετὰ πατρὸς καὶ υἱοῦ
ὀνομαζὸμεν, τοῦδε ὕδατος οὐ μεμνήμεϑα, ὡς
φαίνεσϑαι, ὅτι τὸ μὲν σύμβολον καὶ χρεΐας
τίνος ἕνεκεν παραλαμβάνεται, τὸ δὲ ὡς ἐνερ-
γοῦν ἐπικαλούμεϑα. ;
8 Ὥσπερ ἐπὶ τῆς φυσικῆς γεννήσεως 7) κοι-
λία τὸ φυσικὸν ἐργαστήριόν ἐστιν, ἐν ᾧ τὸ
τικτόμενον ἀποτελεῖται ϑεὶᾳ δυνάμει, οὕτω
καὶ ἐνταῦϑα τὸ ὕδωρ ἐν τάξει τῆς μητρὸς
λαμβάνεται, τὸ δὲ πνεῦμα ἐν τάξει τοῦ δια-
πλάττοντος δεσπότου.
* Augustin. De peccato originis, c. V
668 THE SACRAMENTS. PELAGIAN VIEWS.
clear that Ccelestius, in denying that any sinfulness adhered to in-
fants, could understand baptism for the forgiveness of sins in this case
only after the same manner with Theodore of Mopsuestia ; and, accord-
ingly, he understood also, in like manner with the latter, by the king-
dom of heaven, that which transcends the limits of human nature, that
which can only be bestowed upon it by a higher communication from
God. Thus the Pelagian Julian, though he absolutely denied the pos-
sibility of any forgiveness of sins in the case of imfants, could still
declare that baptism, having been once instituted by Christ, must be
acknowledged as universally valid and necessary for every age ; that
eternal condemnation awaited every one who denied that this rite was
profitable also for children.?
The grace of baptism, said he, is every where the same ; but its
effects appear different, according to the different relations and circum-
stances of the subjects of it. In some, the negative effect, the forgive-
ness of sin, must precede the positive, the exaltation of man’s nature.
In infants the effect is only to ennodble the nature which remains in its
original condition of goodness.”’? Although it would be natural for the
Pelagians, according to the principles of their system, to ascribe to
baptism, as being an external act, a merely symbolical import, yet
they did not find it possible to disentangle themselves wholly from the
church tradition of their period; but they sought to reconcile what
they found in that tradition, as they best could, with their own princi-
ples, which had arisen in an entirely different way. Moreover, with
regard to the relations of the divine matter to the external sign, of re-
generation to outward baptism, they had precisely the same notions
which were the prevailing ones in the church; for this becomes suffi- ᾿
ciently clear from what they taught respecting the effects of infant
baptism ; and Julian expressed himself on this pomt with distinctness
and precision.?
On the one hand, the doctrine which, ever since the time of Cyprian,
by the habit of confounding the inward grace with its outward sign in
baptism, had become predomimant, especially in the North-African
church, the doctrine of the damnation of unbaptized infants, appeared
to the Pelagians as something revolting, something whereby a tyrannical
arbitrary will was imputed to the divine Being. But, on the other hand,
they must themselves, however, according to the theory just unfolded,
suppose the higher grace of participating in the highest stage of bless-
edness in the kingdom of heaven was conditioned solely on the obtain-
ing of baptism; and even they found this asserted in the words of
Christ to Nicodemus, as even they made no distinction of the baptism
1 Nos gratiam Christi, id est baptisma, ex
quo ritum ejus Christus instituit, ita neces-
sariam omnibus in commune xtatibus con-
fiteri, ut quicunque eam utilem etiam par-
vulis negat, sterno feriamus anathemate.
Opus imperfect. c. Julian. 1. III. ο. 149.
217,.0. 151. Que tamen gratia, quoniam
etiam medicina dicitur, facit alios ex malis
bonos; parvulos autem, quos creat con-
dendo bonos, reddit innovando adoptando-
que meliores. -Adqualiter cunctis a se im-
butis adoptionis et sanctificationis et promo-
tionis dona conferre. L. c. 1. II. c. 116.
8 When he says of baptismal grace: In-
fusa semel uno virtutis suze impetu atque
compendio diversa et plurima delet crimina.
Opus imperfectum, 1. II. ¢. 212.
INTERMEDIATE STATE FOR THE UNBAPTIZED. 669
of the Spirit from the baptism with water. Accordingly they must of
necessity affirm, with regard to unbaptized infants, that although free
and exempt from punishment, they were still excluded from that higher
state of being, and attained only to a certain intermediate state. This
was what Ccelestius really meant to say in the declarations above cited.
- And to the same result on this subject must every one have been led,
who was inclined to adopt the Oriental mode of considering the effects
of baptism, and would consistently follow out the matter to a definite
conclusion ; unless he supposed a universal redemption or restoration as
the final end, to which that intermediate state was destined to prove a
pen of transition for unbaptized infants. Such an intermediate state
regory Nazianzen also assigned for those who were unbaptized, through
no fault of their own.! Augustin himself had once*entertained a like
opinion.?, Ambrose of Milan believed, also, that it was necessary to
infer from the words of Christ to Nicodemus, that none could enter into
the kingdom of heaven without baptism ; but it was his opinion, though
he had no confidence in it, that unbaptized infants would be exempted
from punishment. Pelagius himself shrunk from expressing any de-
cided opinion on this point, though by logical thinking it was absolutely
out of his power to avoid that consequence of his principles. He
affirmed of unbaptized children, that of one thing he was sure, namely,
that they could not, as innocent beings, suffer punishment ¢onsistently
with the divine justice. But what would become of them, was more
than he knew, doubtless because he was of the opinion that no distinct
declaration on this point could be found in the sacred scriptures.*
But then Augustin could, however, not without good reason, accuse
the Pelagians of inconsistency, when they charged the advocates of the
doctrine of absolute predestination with imputing arbitrary will to God,
while they themselves were still more involved in this error, by sup-
posing that God excluded innocent beings from the kingdom of heaven,
which he bestowed on others who were in no respect more worthy of it.
The notion, moreover, of an intermediate place between the state of wo and
the kingdom of heaven, was a thing altogether unscriptural and incredible
in itself ; for man, being in the image of God, was destined to find his bliss
in communion with God, and out of that communion could be no other-
wise than wretched.® The Council of Carthage, A.D. 418, finally con-
demned, in its II. Canon, the doctrine concerning such an intermediate
state for unbaptized children, on the ground, that nothing could be con-
ceived as existing between the kingdom of God and perdition. But
then, too, according to the doctrine of this council, the eternal perdition
of all unbaptized infants was expressly affirmed ; a consistency of error
revolting to thé natural sentiments of humanity. It is worthy of notice,
1 Orat. 40. . 5 Augustinus: Nunquam explicant isti,
2 See 1. IIL. de libero arbitrio, ο. 23, ua justitia nullum peccatum habens image
3 De Abrahamo, 1. IT. § 84. Dei separetur a regno Dei. De peccatorum
4 Quo non eant, scio, quo eant, nescio. meritis et remissione, |. I.c.30. Hoc noyum
And perhaps he meant the same thing by in ecclesia, prius inauditum est, esse vitam
his words in the letter to Innocent, bishop sxternam preter regnum ccelorum, esse salu-
of Rome: in perpetuam certamque vitam tem eternam preter regnum Dei. Sermo
Yenasci eum, qui natus sit ad incertam. 294,
670 DOCTRINE OF THE LORD’S SUPPER.
however, that this particular passage of the canon is wanting in a por-
tion of the manuscripts.
But such being the prevailing doctrine concerning baptism, reflecting
minds must now have been struck with the difficulty of conceiving how
a divine influence could take effect in the case of infants devoid of all
conscious moral action of their own. Augustin, by means of his correct
principles, above explained, respecting the essence of sacraments, might
have found out a better way, if he had not been fettered by the au-
thority of the church doctrme. His reply, indeed, explains nothing ;
but it proceeds from a profound feeling of the essential nature of Chris-
tian fellowship. He says: The faith of the church, which consecrates
infants to God in the spirit of love, takes the place of their own faith ;
and albeit they possess as yet no faith of their own, yet there is nothing
in their thoughts to hinder the divine efficacy.”1 His scheme, then,
amounted to this: that as the child, ere its corporeal and independent
existence was fully developed, was supported by the vital forces of na-
ture in its bodily mother, so, ere it came to the independent develop-
ment of its spiritual being in its own consciousness, it is supported by
the heightened vital forces of that spiritual mother, the church ; — an
idea, which would involve some truth, — supposing the visible church
corresponded to its ideal— when applied, without being so literally
understood, to infant baptism.
With regard to the doctrine of the holy supper, we find in this period
almost precisely the same gradations in the notions respecting the
relations of the external signs to the things signified, as in the period
preceding. In this period, too, the idea chiefly predomimant was that
of a supernatural communion, in part spiritual and in part corporeal, with
Christ, by means of the intimate interpenetration of the bread and wine
by the body and blood of Christ. As in the former period this view
was most distinctly expressed by Irenzeus and Justin Martyr, so in the
present it was most strongly asserted by Cyrill of Jerusalem, Chrysos-
tom, Nilus, Hilary of Poictiers, and Ambrose of Milan. Thus Cyrill
of Jerusalem declares it to be the purpose of the sacrament of the sup-
per, that we should take within us the body and blood of Christ, Christ
himself ;2 that by the body and blood of Christ passing over into our
members, we may become partakers of the divine nature, be sanctified
in body and soul. Chrysostom says, that we may be not only united
with our Saviour by love, but in our entire nature blended with his
body.‘ He contemplates the institution of the eucharist as a proof of
the greatest love of our Saviour to men, of his will to be united to
them, and to impart himself to them in the most intimate manner, to
cause his own body to pass over into their entire nature. He gave
himself not only to be seen, but also to be touched and to be partaken
of by those who desire him.® So Hilary of Poictiers affirms that be-
tween Christ and believers there exists not only a unity of will, but a
1 Nullus obex contrarie cogitationis, ep. 8 Cateches. myst. 4.
93 ad Bonifacium. 4 Εἰς ἑκείνην ἀνακερασϑῶμεν τὴν σαρκα,
2 Σύσσωμοι καὶ σύναιμοι Χριστοῦ, χριστό.- κατ᾽ αὐτὸ τὸ πρᾶγμα.
φοροι. 5 Hom. 46 in Joann.
EFFECT ASCRIBED TO THE CONSECRATION.
671
natural union, (not only per concordiam voluntatis, but also per naturze
veritatem,) partly because Christ assumed human nature, and partly
because in the eucharist he gives his body, and thereby his divine life
residing therein, to believers.!
‘True, these church-teachers sometimes have recourse to figures, tor the
purpose of describing the efficacy of the consecration at the Lord’s sup-
per, which seem to indicate a proper transubstantiation, like the change
of the water to wine at the marriage feast at Cana ;* and they employ ex-
pressions which might denote transubstantiation.®
But these terms were
also frequently employed to indicate another change to something more
exalted, not precisely a transubstantiation ; and especially, in the rhe-
torical language of church-teachers, who would fain set forth in strong
hight the wonderful nature of the transaction, such expressions should
not be too rigidly interpreted. _ Even in the case of these comparisons,
every thing turns upon the point to be illustrated, namely, that by a
miracle the substance present becomes something other than it was be-
fore, no matter in what particular sense this is to be understood. These
comparisons are counterbalanced by others, which totally contradict the
notion of transubstantiation ; as, for instance, the comparison with the
anointing oil used in confirmation, or with the higher consecration
bestowed on the water in baptism.+*
The disputes concerning the two
natures in Christ gave the first occasion for entering into a more dis-
tinct exposition of the conceptions respecting the relation of the bread
and wine to the body and blood of Christ ; for those who affirmed the
union of two natures unchangeably persisting in their essence, sought
to make this clear by introducing the comparison of the Lord’s supper.
As the symbols of the body and blood of Christ — says Theodoret —
remain in their original substance and form, admit of being seen and
felt as precisely the same as they were before, but the contemplation
of the spirit and of faith sees in them that which they have become ;
and they are also adored® as that which they are to faith. Even
1 Hilarius de trinitate 1. VIII. § 13. Quo-
modo non naturaliter in nobis existimandus
est, qui et naturam carnis nostre jam in-
separabilem sibi homo natus assumsit, et
naturam carnis suze ad naturam eternitatis
sub sacramento nobis communicand carnis
admiscuit, (he would impart to us the natu-
ra ezternitatis, his own divine essence, in
imparting to us his body in the sacramental
form — the same that Irenzeus called ἕνωσις
πρὸς ἀφϑαρσίαν.
2 See Cyrill. Cateches. 22
mysteriis, c. 9. ΄
3 As for example, μεταποίειν, Cyrill. Cat-
eches. 23, transfiguratio in corpus et san-
guinem. Ambros. de incarnationis domin-
ice sacramento, 1. 1. ¢. IV. § 23, de fide, 1.
IV. c. X. § 124.
4 See Cyrill. Cateches. 21, § 3.
5 See vol. II. p. 701, and Ambros. de
Spiritu Sancto, 1. III. ce. XI. § 79, caro
Christi, que in mysteriis adoratur.
ὁ Theodoret in the second dialogue of his
Ambros. de
᾿Ἐρανιστῆς : Μένει ἐπὶ τῆς προτέρας οὐσίας
καὶ τοῦ σχήματος καὶ τοῦ εἴδους καὶ ὁρατά
ἐστι καὶ ἁπτὰ, οἷα καὶ πρότερον ἣν, νοεῖται δὲ
ἅπερ ἐγένετο καὶ πιστεύεται καὶ προσκυνεῖται,
ὡς ἐκείνα ὄντα ἅπερ πιστεύεται. Ed. Hal.
tom. IV. p. 126. Thus, too, the μεταβολὴ
τῇ χάριτι is opposed to the μεταβολὴ τῆς
φύσεως. Dialog. 1. tom. IV. p. 26. The
first unfolding of views of this sort would
be found in Chrysostom, if the fragment of
aletter of his to the monk Cxsarius, which
must have been aimed against the Apolli-
narists, were really genuine. But this letter
was most probably interpolated on occasion
of the controversy concerning the two na-
tures. Yet a comparison which Nilus, the
disciple of Chrysostom, employs, indicates
the same mode of apprehension:— As a
document, after having been signed by the
emperor, is called a sacra, so ordinary bread
and wine, after the consecration and inward
working of the Holy Spirit, is called the
body and blood of Christ. Lib. I. ep. 44.
672 THE LORD’S SUPPER. GREGORY OF NYSSA.
Gelasius, a Roman bishop towards the close of the fifth century, ex-
plained his views after the same manner.!
Gregory of Nyssa might in this respect undoubtedly constitute an
exception. While aiming in his catechetical disquisition, (λόγος κατηχητικὸς,)
ὁ. 37, to explain the way in which bread and wine become the body
and blood of Christ, and particularly to solve the difficulty, how the
body of Christ, being one, is distributed among so many thousand’ be-
lievers in the world, and still remains one and the same and complete,
he is led to an exposition which seems to presuppose a transubstantia-
tion, and which, moreover, was seized upon by the later theory of the
transformation of the bread among the Greeks. It was this — that in
like manner as, during the life of Jesus on earth, the natural means of
nourishment, bread and wine, were transmuted into the essence of the
body united with the deity, through the power of the divine Logos, but
mediately by that natural process whereby the means of nourishment
are converted into flesh and blood; so, at present, the same effect is
produced, bread and wine is converted into the body of the Logos, by
the same power of the Logos, only working at present in the way of
an immediate miracle. Yet he, also, was still certainly very far from
holding fast, with clear consciousness, the idea which seemed to be here
lying at bottom ; for in his sermon on the baptism of Christ,? he makes
use of comparisons which are grounded on a totally different idea, as,
for instance, the heightened efficacy of the consecration of the baptismal
water, of the anointing oil, of ordination. It is also deserving of
remark, how little, in the case of this theologian, in other respects so
systematic, these particular doctrines were carried out in coherence
with his peculiar principles ; for his ideas concerning the character οἵ.
Christ’s glorified body, (see above, vol. IT., p. 428,) would have easily
led him to dispose of the difficulty above noticed by him in an altogether
different way; but that idea of the repetition of the incarnation of the
Logos which had taken possession of his mind, did not leave room for
him here to think of Christ’s glorified body.
The idea of a union with Christ presents itself already, under a form
in which it appears to be less sensuously apprehended, in the writings
of Athanasius. From John 6: 62,3 he endeavors to show that accord-
ing to that passage, the partaking of the flesh and of the blood of
Christ was not to be understood in the literal sense. Christ —he
says — mentions on this occasion his ascension to heaven, for the very
purpose of turning away men’s minds from sensuous notions, and lead-
ing them to the idea of a spiritual nourishment ;* inasmuch as Christ
communicates himself to each after a spiritual manner.® The addition,
‘as the preservative to a blessed resurrection,” © shows that he also
1 De duabus naturis in Christo,adversus © * The term πνευματικόν is not restricted,
Eutychem et Nestorium, in the Bibl. patr. indeed, to the meaning “spiritual,” but may
Lugd. T. VIII.: Indivinam transeunt, Spir- also denote supernatural as opposed to nat-
itu Sancto perficiente, substantiam, perma- ural, sensible nourishment.
nente tamen in sua proprietate natura. 5 Πνευματικῶς ἀναδίδοσϑαι.
2 1. III. f. 370. 8 φυλακτήριον εἰς ἀνάστασιν ζωῆς.
8 Ep. LV. ad Serapionem.
VIEWS OF AUGUSTIN. 675
conceived of a higher principle of life being communicated to the body,
by means of the contact with Christ.
The doctrine of the North-African church, as we have already
described it in the preceding period, we once more meet with in
Augustin. He explains the words of institution as follows: that
‘Christ’s body was the same thing as the symbol of his body.1 He
says that the expression, to give his body and flesh to eat, contains a
bold figure, and that the sense which lies at bottom must be expounded
according to the analogy of faith.2 According to the analogy of the
religious use of language, by virtue of which the sacramental sign is
substituted for the thing itself, in the same way, for example, as the
sacramentum fidei is substituted for faith itself in the case of children
who are as yet incapable of faith, according to this analogy, the symbol
of Christ’s body is put for the body itself.? But although Augustin,
in the case of the eucharist, as everywhere else, considered the conse-
crated outward elements as symbols merely, clearly separating and hold-
ing apart the sacramentum and the res sacramenti, yet he at the same
time supposed, as in the case of the sacraments generally,so in the case
of the eucharist in particular, a divine matter united with the holy
symbols, and which is communicated to the believing heart. The res
sacramenti is the uniting of the faithful, as members, with their One
great Head, and the fellowship, grounded therein, of the faithful with
each other, as members of one body ; therefore their union into one com-
munity of the saints. By the body of Christ in the eucharist, Augustin
understands the spiritual body of the members united with Christ as
the head. To the question, how Christ, who died and arose again, sits
at the right hand of God, and will come again to judgment, can here
distribute his body, to this question he gives an entirely different
answer from that of Gregory of Nyssa. According to his spiritual
mode of apprehending the doctrine of the Lord’s supper, there could
be no difficulty on this point. By pointing to the spiritual sense as
the only correct one, he had at once answered the question. On this
very account was the transaction called a sacrament, because one thing
is presented to the eye of sense, and another thing discerned by the
eye of the spirit.2 Hence Christ said to the Jews, when he should be
seen to ascend up where he was before, then they would be obliged to
understand that he could only have spoken of a spiritual communica-
tion, of a fellowship of divine life.6 The flesh profiteth nothing ; that
is, without the spirit. The flesh was only the vessel through which the
1 Non enim Dominus dubitavit dicere:
hoc est corpus meum, cum signum daret
corporis sui. In the like connection as
when he says “ Petra erat Christus ” is equiv-
alent to significabat Christum. C. Adiman-
tum c. 12.
2 Contra adversarium legis et propheta-
rum, 1. II. ¢. 9.
8 See 1. ILI. de trinitate c. X. §19 et 20,
ep. 98.
* Hunc cibum et potum vult intelligi soci-
VOL. Il.
etatem corporis et membrorum suorum,
quod est sancta ecclesia. — Corpus Christi
si vis intelligere, apostolum audi dicentem
fidelibus: vos autem estis corpus Christi et
membra, mysterium vestrum in mensa do-
minica positum est, mysterium vestrum ac-
cipitis.
5 Tdeo dicuntur sacramenta, quia in eis
aliud videtur, aliud intelligitur.
6 Certe vel tune intelligetis, quia gratia
ejus non consumitur morsibus.
614 DOCTRINE OF THE SACRAMENTS.
spirit wrought, through which Christ communicated himself to us.?
Christ is eternal life, and in his flesh and blood gives himself. Augustin
distinguishes the inward and the outward manducation of the supper,
(manducare intus et foris.) The former is the privilege only of be-
levers ;2 but the unbelieving and the unworthy receive nothing but
the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ.’
Next, we find ἃ more spiritual apprehension of this doctrine in those
church-teachers on whose theological education the study of Origen
had exerted a decided influence ; from which number, however, it is
evident from what has been said, Gregory of Nyssa* must be excepted,
although on other subjects, he accords very nearly with Origen.
Gregory Nanzianzen calls the eucharist an archetype of the great mys-
tery of the sacrifice of Christ ;° the symbol of the sacrifice by which
the salvation of mankind had been wrought out.6 Assuredly, however,
he conceived in connection with this a higher divine influence, as is
sufficiently evident from looking at the connection of his ideas relative
to the priesthood and to sacrifice ; and this is confirmed, moreover, by
certain individual expressions of his concerning the effects of the
eucharist, as when he calls it a sacrifice, by which we enter into fellow-
ship with Christ, into fellowship with his sufferings and his divine
nature,’ —the holy transaction which exalts us to heaven.? He accord-
ingly supposes a certain sanctifying influence of the Logos, which, by
virtue of the words pronounced by the priest, becomes united with the
symbols of the bread and wine ; and in so far then as the outward sym-
bols, as vehicles of this supernatural sanctifying impartation of the Logos,
are substituted in place of the real body of Christ, they are called the
body and blood of Christ. Eusebius of Czesarea probably distinguishes,
like his teacher Origen," the sensible and the spiritual eucharist. In
‘reference to the former, he says; it is enjoimed upon Christians to
celebrate the remembrance of Christ’s sacrifice by the symbols of his
1 Si caro nibil non prodesset, verbum caro Christ’s glorified body, explained above on
non fieret, ut inhabitaret in nobis. Caro
vas fuit; quod habebat, attende, non quod
erat.
2 Habe fidem, et tecum est quem non
vides.
8 Sermo 235, 272. Tractat. 26, Evang.
Joh.
4 At the same time, however, this mode
of apprehension does not appear, with him,
to be an entirely isolated thing, but stands
strictly connected with his whole system:
for in this is made distinctly prominent the
fundamental idea, that as the principle of
corruption (φϑόρα) was. propagated in hu-
man nature from the first sin ; so, in opposi-
tion to this, the principle of incorruption,
(ἀφϑαρσία,) proceeding from Christ, must
pervade the entire human nature as the
first fruits (ἀπάρχη) of the new creation.
Yet another modification of this idea might,
indeed, have offered itself to him, corres-
ponding to that notion of the character of
page 428.
_ > Orat. If. 88. Τῶν μεγαλῶν μυστηρίων
ἀντίτυπον.
6 Τύποι τῆς ἐμῆς σωτηρίας. Orat. XVII.
.. 278.
7 Orat. III. f. 70. Ae ἧς ἡμεῖς Χριστῷ
κοινωνοῦμεν, καὶ τῶν παϑημάτων καὶ τῆς
ϑεοτῆτος.
δύΑνω φέρουσα μυσταγωγία. Orat. XVII.
f, 273.
® See ep. 240 ad Amphilochium, among
the few letters which are inserted at the
beginning of the first volume of his works:
Ὅταν λόγῳ καϑέλκῃς τὸν λόγον" ὅταν ἀνα-
μάκτῳ τομῇ σῶμα καὶ αἷμα τέμνης δεσποτικὸν,
φωνῆν ἔχων τὸ ξίφος. These words, no
doubt, admit of being understood, accord-
ing to the mode of apprehension already
noticed, as referring to a repeated incarna-
tion, (ἐνσάρκωσις :") but we must consider
too, that .Gregory was much addicted to
rhetorical exaggeration.
10 See vol. I. p. 648.
DOCTRINE OF THE LAST THINGS. 675
body and blood. In reference to the latter, he thus paraphrases the
words of Christ in the 6th chapter of John’s gospel: “ Think not that
I am speaking of the body which I bear with me, as if this must be
eaten. Neither think that I bid you drink my sensible and bodily
blood ; but know that the very words which I have spoken to you are
spirit and life, so that my words and doctrines themselves are my flesh
and blood. He who, by appropriating to himself these, becomes, so to
speak, nourished with the bread from heaven, will be made a partaker
of the heavenly life.” 2
e. Doctrine of the Last Things.
In respect to the doctrine concerning the last things, it is to be
observed that the notions respecting disciplinary or purgatory sufferings,
which in the East and West had already in the preceding period
shaped themselves out into different forms from a commixture of Persico-
Jewish and Christian ideas, passed over into this period also. It was
supposed that the doctrine of a purgatorial fire was to be found in
Malachi 3, and in 1 Corinthians, 3: 12.3 In connection with the
notion of a dead faith, and the confounding together of the conceptions
of the visible and of the invisible church, this doctrine, as had happened
before under a Jewish-Christian mode of apprehension, that for example
of the Clementines, was abused in being made the foundation of the
false view, that whoever was a member of the orthodox catholic church,
and at the same time led a vicious life, would possess this advantage
over the unbelieving, that although he needed to pass through such a
purification after death, he would still in the end attain to salvation.
Thus the passage just mentioned in the first epistle to the Corinthians
was so misconstrued, that it was supposed it might be affirmed of him
who united with the pretended faith in Christ every species of vice,
that he built on the foundation, which is Christ. The moral zeal of
Pelagius against an error so practically mischievous, led him to contend
against the doctrine of such an ignis purgatorius, — as may be gathered
from his declaration which he made at the synod of Diospolis.*
Augustin sought to guard this doctrine against such misinterpretations.5
He considered that passage in the first epistle to the Corinthians, as
referring immediately to the purification by means of trials in the
present life, of those who, though inspired by love to Christ, were siill
not as yet so penetrated by it, as to have their hearts entirely cleansed
from the love of earthly things ; for, in order that Christ should really
be the foundation, it was required that the love to him should over-
balance all other interests, and that the soul should be ready to sacri-
fice every thing for him. Such a proof of purification, continuing to
1 Demonstrat. evangel. lib. I. c. 10, f. 39. 6 Si Christus in corde fundamenti habet
2 Theol. eccles. 1. IIL. ¢. 12. locum, id est, ut ei nihil anteponatur, et
8 Vid. Cyrill. catecheg. 15, 4 9: Πῦρ δοκι- malit homo qui tali dolore uritur, rebus
μαστικὸν τῶν ἀνϑρώπων before the last judg- quas ita diligit, magis carere quam Christo,
ment. Pone quedam purgatorie. De per ignem fit salvus. Si autem res hu-
zivitate Dei, 1. XX. c. 25; 1. XXI.¢. 13, 24. jus modi temporales ac seculares tempore
4 See above, p. 584, Note. tentationis maluerit tenere quam Christ-
5 In his enchiridion ad Laurentium,c.68. um, eum in fundamento non _habuit
676 DURATION OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT.
go on even after death, but only in the case of those who, in the sense
just described, had made Christ the basis of their life, he considered to
be a supposable thing ; so that many believers attained to the state of
blessedness through a certain purifying fire, enduring for a longer or
shorter time, according as they had set their affections more or less on
perishable goods. But he puts down this doctrime as somewhat
doubtful.
The doctrine of eternal punishment continued, as in the preceding
period, to be dominant in the creed of the church. Yet, in the Oriental
church, in which, with the exception of those subjects immediately con-
nected with the doctrinal controversies, there was greater freedom and
latitude of development, many respectable church-teachers still stood
forth, without injuring their reputation for orthodoxy, as advocates of
the opposite doctrine, until the time when the Origenistic disputes
caused the agreement with Origen in respect to this point also to be
considered as something decidedly heretical. The scepticism with
regard to that doctrine arose from very different points of view, and
very different interests. For the most part, in the great cities of the
East, it arose by no means from a more free and earnest reflection on
religious subjects, but from a lack of Christian seriousness and a super-
ficial and trifling mode of judgment. There were persons who could not
seize the contrariety of moral evil to God’s holiness in its strict truth,
entangled as they still were too much in the pagan view of evil as a
property of nature, and hence were still too far from rightly under-
standing the true essence of Christian sanctification. They would fain
reason away the doctrine of eternal punishment, simply because this
doctrine presented terrifying images, which disturbed them in a life too
deficient in point of moral strictness and purity. God — they imagined
—could not so severely judge the weaknesses of mankind. ‘Those
declarations of holy scripture respecting everlasting punishments con-
tained nothing but terrifying threats. Chrysostom, who, in the great
cities where he labored, came most frequently in contact with this
frivolous way of thinking, was incited, by the lively zeal which he felt
against every thing destructive to practical Christianity, to controvert
these opinions with earnestness,” although perhaps otherwise his mild
and amiable spirit might not be altogether disinclined to the doctrine
of a universal restoration, with which he must have become acquainted
at an earlier period, from being a disciple of Diodorus of Tarsus.”
But from two theological schools there went forth an opposition to
the doctrine of everlasting punishment, which had its ground in a deeper
Christian interest ; inasmuch as the doctrine of a universal restoration
was closely connected with the entire dogmatic systems of both these
schools, namely, that of Origen, and the school of Antioch. As it
cum in sedificio prius non sit aliquid funda-
mento. μὰν fee
1Jncredibile non est, et utrum ita sit,
queri potest.
2 In epist. I. ad Thessal. Hom. VIII.; ep.
Il. Hom. II.
8 It is remarkable that Chrysostom in his
homoletic exposition of the first epistle to
the Corinthians, (chap. 15: 28,) mentions
the opinion of those who weuld find in
these words the doctrine of a total destruc-
tion of evil (ἀναίρεσις τῆς κακιας) without
controverting it; see Hom. XX XIX. in ep.
I. ad Corinth. 'T. X. ed. Montf. f. 372.
GREGORY OF NYSSA. THEODORE OF MOPSUESTIA. 677
concerns the former, we may remark here still another after-influence
of the great Origen upon individual church-teachers whose theological
education had been shaped by the study of his writings, as, for ex-
ample, a Didymus,! and a Gregory Nazianzen. But this particu-
lar doctrine was expounded and maintained with the greatest logical
ability and acuteness, in works written expressly for that purpose, by
Gregory of Nyssa.?_ God, he maintained, had created rational beings,
in order that they might be self-conscious and free vessels and recipi-
ents for the communications of the original fountain of all good. Now
if the soul exist in a condition of harmonious correspondence with this
destination, and of harmonious activity for the reception of the godlike
life, it is blessed. If this harmonious relation is disturbed by that
which is alien from it, by moral evil, it is wretched. The expressions
reward and punishment, are but inadequate terms to denote the pres-
ent existence or the disturbance of this harmony of relations ; just as
when the healthy eye, in the exercise of the power residing within it,
perceives objects in the sun-light, or when it is prevented from so doing
by disease. All punishments are means of purification, ordained by
divine love with a view to purge rational beings from moral evil, and to
restore them back again to that communion with God which corres-
ponds to their nature. God would not have permitted the existence
of evil, unless he had foreseen that by the redemption, all rational
beings would in the end, according to their destination, attain to the
same blessed fellowship with himself.
In like manner the doctrine of universal restoration was closely
connected with the fundamental views of Theodore of Mopsuestia con-
cerning the two great periods in the development of the rational
creation, and concerning the final end of the redemption, whereby the
immutability of a divine life should take the place of that mutability
and exposure. to temptation, which had before prevailed in the entire
rational creation. Moral evil appeared here, in fact, as a universally
necessary point of transition for the development of freedom.® Diodo-
rus of Tarsus had already unfolded this doctrine in his work which has
not come down to us, on the incarnation of the deity, (περὶ duxovoyiac,)
and Theodore exhibited it in his commentary on the gospels. In
1 Though in the writings of Didymus
which have come to our knowledge, there
are no distinct traces to be found of the
doctrine of restoration, (ἀποκατάστασις,) yet
in the work De trinitate published by Min-
garelli (Bologna, 1769) an intimation of
this kind may be found in his exposition
and application of the passage in Philipp.
2: 10, where in réference to the καταχϑόνια
as well as to the ἐπίγεια, he speaks of the
calling on the name of Christ, which ex-
tends to the salvation of all; see 1]. III. c.
10. 365.
2 As for example, in his exposition of
1 Corinth. 15: 28, in his λόγος κατηχητικός,
ec. 8 and 35, in his tract on the soul and on
the resurrection, in his tract on the early
death of children.
57*
VOL. II.
8 Ὡς τὸν πλοῦτον τῶν ϑείων ἀγαϑῶν μὴ
ἀργὸν εἶναι, ἀλλ᾽ οὖον ἀγγεῖά τινα προαιρετικὰ
τῶν ψυχῶν δοχεῖα.
* As this doctrine stands so closely con-
nected with Gregory’s whole system of
faith, it belongs among the worst examples
of an arbitrary caprice, regardless of history,
when Germanus, patriarch of Constantino-
ple in the eighth century, in his Gvrazodor
κὸς or ἀνόϑευτος, endeavored to show that all
the passages in Gregory’s writings, referring
to this doctrine, were interpolated by here-
tics. See Phot. cod. 233.
5 See above p. 657.
6 Extracts from these writings by the
Nestorian bishop Solomon of Bassora, in
the thirteenth century, in Assemani, T. ΠῚ.
P. I. f. 323, 24; comp. the fourth of Theo-
678 RENEWAL OF ORIGENISTIC DISPUTES.
these writings they adduced many other special reasons against the
eternity of punishment. “If the rewards of eternity so far exceed
good works and the brief period of life, ought not the punishments
much more to be overcome by the divine mercy. God would not
revive the wicked at the resurrection, if they must needs suffer only
punishment without reformation.”’ They believed they found an intima-
tion that the degree of punishment would be proportionate to the
degree of sin in Luke 12 : 47; Matth. 5: 26. From the fundamental
principles of Theodore it also necessarily follows, though we have no dis-
tinct declaration of his own on that point, that as the antithesis of those
two periods wasassumed by him to embrace generally the entire rational
creation, he must therefore have extended the restoration to fallen
spirits as well as to mankind.
3. Opposite Theological Tendencies which arose out of the after-
workings of the Origenistic disputes.
We have still to mention a series of controversies which are more
loosely connected with the history of particular doctrines, and which
form a whole of themselves, — the renewed controversies concerning
Origen, respecting whose relation to the theological development of
this period we have spoken already in the general introduction. We
perceive in these disputes, first, the struggle of that more free theologi-
cal tendency which started from Origen, with that other more narrow
tendency clinging fast to the letter of the church doctrine, which from
the beginning stood opposed to the Origenistic school, as the struggle
of a more fleshly with a more spiritual tendency in the mode of appre-
hending Christianity. But the theological interest of these contro-
versies was soon lost in contests of another kind, partaking more of ἃ
secular than of a spiritual interest ; but then these controversies gain
another important significance for us, in that they exhibit to us a
hero of the faith, who, unsubdued by all persecutions and sufferings,
manfully contended with spiritual weapons against the corruptions of
the church which grew out of the confusion of things spiritual with
things temporal.
Origen, long since pronounced a heretic in the Western church, was
scarcely known among the Western theologians except by name, while
those of the East were forming different parties in their various judg-
ments concerning him. He had some enthusiastic admirers, who
agreed with him in all his peculiar views, while there were other blind
zealots, who looked upon him in no other light than as the father of
all heresies. There were others, again, holding the middle ground be-
twixt these two parties, who, acknowledging his merits in relation to
the progress of theology, without overlooking his defects, sought with
moderation and freedom of spirit to separate the true from the false in
his writings and doctrines. As the Arians could find many things in
dore’s excerpts in Marius Mercator. In But though such traces occurred in this
Theodore’s commentary on the gospel of commentary, yet, as a matter of course,
John, so far as it remains to us, there are passages of this kind were not received into
also to be found traces of this doctrine. the catenz
MARCELLUS OF ANCYRA. 679
the works of Origen which seemed to furnish them with a foothold for
their attacks against the Nicene creed; as they appealed, whether
rightly or wrongly, to many of his assertions as justifying their own
views ; as the system of the Semi-Arians properly derived its origin
from this father ; all these circumstances would tend to place him in
an unfavorable light. The Marcellus of Ancyra, who has already been
mentioned in the history of doctrinal controversies, was the first to
attack Origen on this particular side. He represented him as the
author of Arianism. He accused. him of having stood forth as a theo-
logical writer while he was still too crude, and after studying the
writings of the Greek philosophers much more than the Bible, whence
he mixed up foreign Platonic doctrines with the Christian scheme of
faith. He very unjustly reproaches him, for having commenced his
work Περὶ ἄρχων with the same words with which Plato begins his Gorgias ;
though these words in Origen, owing to the connection in which they
occur, receive an entirely different and decidedly Christian sense, as
Eusebius, the defender of Origen, very properly remarks. He objects
that Origen gave this work a title borrowed from the philosophical use
of language; whence he draws the arbitrary conclusion, that the
subject-matter, therefore, was derived from the same fountain-head,
namely, from the Greek philosophy. The great point with Marcellus
was, to preserve unalloyed the simple doctrine of scripture, which led
him also to oppose, generally, the too high authority ascribed to the
older fathers, and to admit of no other evidence, in matters of faith,
than that of the sacred scriptures.? But other eminent church-teachers,
as, for instance, Athanasius, endeavored to show, that the Arians
wrongly cited Origen as on their side. Didymus of Alexandria defended
the authority of Origen, whose whole system he had adopted, so far as
it did not stand in express contradiction with that which had been set-
tled and determined in the doctrinal controversies.? Basil of Czesarea
1 Ὅτι ἄρτι τῶν κατὰ φιλοσοφίαν ἀποστὰς
μαϑημάτων καὶ τοῖς ϑείοις ὁμιλῆσαι προελόμ-
ενὸς λόγος πρὸ τῆς ἀκριβοῦς τῶν γραφῶν κατα-
λήψεως διὰ τὸ πολὺ καὶ φιλότιμον τῆς ἔξωϑεν
παιδεύσεως, ϑᾶττον τοῦ δεόντος ἀρξάμενος
ὑπογράφειν, ὑπο τῶν τῆς φιλοσοφίας παρήχϑη
λόγων καὶ. τινὰ δ’ αὐτοὺς οὐ καλῶς γέγραφε.
Euseb. ¢. Marcellum, lib. I. f. 23. Compare
with this what we have said in the first vol-
ume (p. 698) respecting the intellectual
training of Origen.
2 The Arian Asterius, whom Marcellus
controyerted, had appealed in defense of
his doctrine to the δόγμα περὶ ϑεοῦ, ὅπερ ol
σοφώτατοι τῶν πατέρων ἀπεφήναντο. There
were here two things calculated to revolt
Marcellus, who was so zealous in maintain-
ing the sole and exclusive authority of the
divine word: that he should call human
teachers fathers and give to their declara-
tions the honor which is due to the sacred
scriptures alone, and that he should employ
the term δόγμα to denote the divine doctrine.
He makes a distinction between λόγος ϑεῖος
and δόγμα ἀνϑρώπινον ; a distinction which,
though not grounded in the use of language
among the church-teachers, yet is so in the
original signification of the terms. His
remarkable words are: Τὸ γὰρ τοῦ δόγματος
ὄνομα τῆς ἀνϑρωπίνης ἐχεται βούλης τε καὶ
γνώμης. Ὅτι δὲ τοῦϑ᾽ οὕτως ἔχει, μαρτυρεῖ
μὲν ἡμῖν ἱκανῶς ἡ δογματικὴ τῶν ἰατρῶν τέχνη,
(contradistinction of dogmatists and empir-
ics,) μαρτυρεῖ δὲ τὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων καλούμενα.
Ὅτι δὲ καὶ τὰ συγκλήτῳ δόξαντα ἔτι καὶ νῦν
δόγματα συγκλήτου λέγεται, οὐδένα ἀγνοεῖν
οἶμαι. In reference to the first, Eusebius
opposed to him the passage in Deut. 32: 7,
which, falsely applied as it was, had still
become classical on this point; and in refer-
ence to the use of the term δόγμα, he opposed
to him the passage in Ephes. 2: 15, where
he explained the word δόγματα as referring
to the doctrines of Christianity; though, in
fact, it must necessarily be understood of
the dogmas of the law, and hence was a
testimony rather in favor of Marcellus than
against him.
ὃ For the rest, the remark we made on
page 349 concerhing the revolution of the
680 ORIGENISTIC DISPUTES. EPIPHANIUS.
and Gregory Nanzianzen published, as the result of their common
studies, a Chrestomathy from the writings of Origen, with a view to
the diffusion of his spiritual ideas, and particulary of his principles of
interpretation.!. Origen had the greatest influence on the formation
of the theological system set forth by Gregory of Nyssa, in which we
meet once more with many of the peculiar ideas of the great church-
father, although Gregory was a perfectly independent theologian, and
reproduced, with the freshness of original thought, whatever he learnt
from the labors of others.
Among the monks, especially in Egypt, there were, in the fourth
century, two parties of opposite spiritual bents, who also stood opposed
to each other in their judgment of Origen. One of these parties, pos-
sessed of a more limited intellectual culture, and confined to a rude,
fleshly mode of apprehending divine things, hated Origen as the zealous
opponent of this tendency. The venerated Pachomius? warned his
disciples most of all against the writings of Origen, because the latter
was more dangerous than other heretics, since under the pretence of
expounding the holy scriptures, he introduced into them his own
erroneous doctrines. The monks of the other class, who were possessed
of more cultivated minds, and of a more contemplative mystical bent,
entertained a high respect for Origen, in whose works they found ample
nourishment for their own spiritual tendency.
Among the former class of monks an individual had received his
education, who, at the time of the first breaking out of these disputes,
stood in high estimation on account of the zeal for piety and orthodoxy
which he had displayed for a long series of years. This was Epipha-
nius. He was born in the early part of the fourth century, in the village
of Besanduk, belonging to the territory of the city of Eleutheropolis in
Palestine. He had been educated among those Egyptian monks for the
monastic life, and their narrow intellectual culture was transmitted to
him. After this, he returned home to his native country, where he
became superintendent of a cloister which he founded near the place
of his birth; and in the year 367, bishop of Salamis, then called Con-
stantia, metropolis of the island of Cyprus. His writings show him to
have been a man of extensive reading, but quite deficient in criticism
and in logical arrangement, — possessed of sincere piety, but also of a
very narrow dogmatical spirit; a man who was altogether unable to
distinguish essentials from non-essentials in doctrinal differences, — the
letter from the spirit in modes of apprehending the scheme of faith, and
‘ who would be very ready to discern a dangerous heresy in every
opinion on matters of faith that deviated from the one which commonly
prevailed ; — and it was a matter of course, that, to such a man, Origen,
whom he was incapable of understanding, would appear as the most
Alexandrian spirit holds good also of Didy- the mystical theology, as it afterwards ap-
mus, as he exhibits himself in his work De pears in the writings of the Pseudo-Dio-
trinitate. He forms an important link in nysius.
the development of the scheme peculiar to 1 The φιλοκαλία.
the Alexandrians, as it subsequently ex- 2 See vol. II. p. 236.
pressed itself in opposition to the <Antio- 8 Sozom. VI. 32
chian system; and also i the formation of
JEROME. 681
dangerons of false teachers ; as, in fact, in his description and critique
of the heresies, he considered it especially necessary to warn his
readers against Aim.
_ A-second eminent teacher of the church, who took part in these
controversies, was Jerome, a person of great merit, on account of his
researches in biblical literature and the pains he took to promote a
more thorough study of the scriptures among the people of the West.
That he was animated by a warm zeal for the cause of the gospel, is
evinced by the unwearied labors of his long life, for which, during his
own life-time, he was rewarded from many quarters only with ingratitude.
But his better qualities were obscured by the great defects of his
character, by his mean passions, his easily offended vanity, his love of
controversy and of rule, his pride, so often concealed under the garb
of humility. His letters and other writings testify, beyond doubt, that
he knew how to bring home to the hearts of others many great truths
of practical Christianity, which, from the want of Christian selfknowl-
edge and self-control, he omitted to set before himself, and apply to his
own case, on the proper occasions. Let us first cast a glance at the
earlier history of the life and labors of this remarkable man, down to
the time when he took part in these controversies.
Jerome was born at Stridon, on the borders of Dalmatia and Panno-
nia,! according to the Chronicle of Prosper, in the year 331, though
other marks and evidences seem to point to a date some ten years later.
At Rome, where the celebrated grammarian Donatus was his teacher,
he enjoyed the advantages of a good literary education, and there, also,
he at an early age received baptism. After various journies, which
he was induced to undertake in part by his loveof knowledge, he
enjoyed for some time at Antioch the instructions of the learned Apol-
linaris, and then withdrew from the society of men into the desert of
Chalcis in Syria. The inward conflicts which had led him to seek the
life of seclusion, were in his case but rendered the more violent in this
solitude. He had, until now, chiefly occupied himself with the study
of the ancient authors, many of whom he had taken along with him
from Rome. That he should find in them a good deal which was
unsuited to his then ascetic bent of mind, may be well conceived. It
is easy to explain also, how, in this disturbed, legal tone of mind, his
conscience would upbraid him on account of his employing so much of
his time on pagan literature. In the opinions entertained of this latter,
we find in this period the most opposite errors. While some, — either
through a misconceived zeal, which, especially in such transition-epochs
of the inner life, wherein the might of Christian consciousness asserted
itself in a decided manner, might easily arise, or through mental indo-
lence, which sought concealment under the guise of piety,— were induced
absolutely to shun all intercourse with ancient literature as something
that belonged to Satan’s kingdom, there were at Rome ecclesiastics
who studied the ancient authors even to the neglect of holy writ.?
1 According to the conjecture of some, 2 As Jerome complains in his letter to the
Stridova in Hungary, on the boundaries of Roman bishop Damasus, ep. 146, (according
Stiria. to Martianay, T. III. f. 160:) At nunc sacer-
682 JEROME.
The medium between these two opposite mistakes was held by such
men as Augustin, who, in his Guide to the education of the clergy,
says that every thing true and good should be appropriated to the
service of Christianity; and that even from the Pagans should be taken
the silver and gold, which, in truth, they had not themselves created,
με shy brought to’ light out of the stores of an omnipresent provi-
ence.
Now, when Jerome, in the midst of the severe ascetic discipline to
which he subjected himself, felt his conscience reproach him on account
of the predilection he had hitherto shown for the Pagan literature, we
may easily explain how it might happen, that in a violent attack of
fever brought on by his rigid austerities and his abstinence from food
in the Quadrigesimal fasts, his thoughts should shape themselves into
that vision, which, by his own fault and that of his later antagonist,
Rufinus, became magnified to an undue importance. He thought that
he appeared before the judgment-seat of God. When, to the question
put to him, he ie iisveds (ς 1 am a Christian,” it was said, “‘ thou art not
a Christian, but a Ciceronean ; for where thy treasure is, there is thy
heart also;” and under the infliction of the lash, he made a solemn
vow never to take into his hand another pagan book. This oath he
assuredly did not consider himself bound strictly to keep, as is proved
by the frequent accurate quotations from ancient authors in his writ-
ings;— unless we credit the solemn assurance of Jerome himself, in
answer to the charge of perjury brought against him by Rufinus, that
he made all these citations simply from memory. Possibly he differed
in his own judgment respecting this vision in different moods of mind,
passions, and situations. Where he wished to dissuade from the read-
ing of the heathen authors, he represented this as being a supernatural
vision? and thus furnished Rufinus a good reason for accusing him of
self-contradiction and of perjury. And Jerome could adduce nothing
in his own vindication, except first, that he had really read no pagan
author since his conversion, and cited every thing from mere memory, —
a statement against which Rufinus could urge many plausible objec-
dotes Dei, omissis evangeliis et prophetis,
videas comeedias legere.
1 Quod eorum tanquam aurum et argen-
tum, quod non ipsi instituerunt, sed de qui-
busdam quasi metallis diving providentiz,
que ubique infusa est, eruerunt. De doc-
_ trina Christiana, 1. II. §60. Here belongs
also the advice which Isidore of Pelusium
gives to an anagnost in the course of train-
ing for the spiritual office. He would most
profit himself and others. if he devoted his
whole life to the study of the sacred scrip-
tures, but at the same time also appropriated
what he could make use of from the ancient
literature in the service of Christianity,
ὅσον χρῆσιμον ἐκ τῆς ἔξωϑεν παιδεύσεως,
ὥσπερ ἡ μέλλιττα, δρεψάμενος, πολλὰ γὰρ
ἀρετῆς ἕνεκεν πεφιλοσοφήκασι. Lib. II. ep.
8. Among the Greek church-teachers such
views were by no means uncommon. The
above-mentioned Isidore, however, censures
an anchorite, in reference to his peculiar
purpose of life, because he spent his time
chiefly in reading the pagan writers. Lib.
I. ep. 63.
2p. 18 ad Eustochium, where he ad-
duces in proof of the reality of the thing
the liventes scapulas, and that he plagas
sensisse post somnum. Which, in case he
remembers rightly, still admits of being
easily explained.
8 Rufin says in his znvectiva against Je-
rome, 1]. II. f. 285, T. V. ed. Martianay, not
without truth: Relegantur nunc quxso qu
scribit, si una ejus operis pagina est, que
non eum iterum Ciceronianum pronunciet,
ubi non dicat: sed Tullius noster, sed Flac-
cus noster, sed’ Maro. Jam vero~ Chrysip-
pum et Aristidem, Empedoclem et cztera
Grecorum auctorum nomina, ut doctus
videatur et plurime lectionis, tanquam fu-
mos et nebulas lectoribus spargit.
JEROME. 683
tions ; and secondly, that the whole was but a dream, and what was
done in a dream was a thing of no account.! This little trait is not
without its importance, as opening a glimpse into the character of
Jerome. Veracity or untrustworthiness of character is often indicated
in the plainest manner by the merest trifles.
’ As other monks endeavored to occupy the lower powers of nature on
various kinds of handicrafts, and thereby to escape many inward temp-
tations, so Jerome chose, instead of these, a kind of discipline which
came nearer to his calling, and from which he could gain more that would
be profitable to the church. He learnt from a Jew the Hebrew lan-
guage.? He was afterwards ordained as a presbyter at Antioch; and,
between the years 379 and 380, made a journey to Constantinople,
drawn by the invitation of Gregory Nanzianzen. By the latter, his
attention was first particularly directed to Origen, of whose exegetical
writings he from this time forward availed himself in many ways, and
of whose homilies he translated several into Latin. Then he journeyed
to Rome in 382, on a visit to the bishop Damasus, with whom at an
earlier period he had already entered into friendly relations, and the
latter availed himself of his various knowledge by making him his
secretary and adviser in church matters; by which office he must have
become very accurately versed in ecclesiastical affairs; as the most
important passed through his own hands.? Here he gained many enthu-
siastic friends, but made also many violent enemies. As a promoter
of monasticism in a country where it was as yet but little loved, in the
great capital, where the rigidly ascetic tendency came into collision
with the propensities and interests of many, he could not fail even on
this score to incur the hatred of numbers, both of the clergy and laity ;
and as he induced ladies and maidens of the noblest families, by the
enthusiasm for the ascetic life with which he inspired them, to forsake
their worldly relations, and in some cases to retire to a life of solitude in
Palestine, so by this means he vexed and irritated some of the most
eminent citizens of Rome. ‘To these occasions of offence must be added
the strong contrast of his erudition with the ignorance which prevailed
among many of the Roman clergy, which superiority Jerome, in his
usual way, took no pains to hide, but on the other hand endeavored
to make them feel; and also the peculiarly sarcastic manner in which
he exposed and chastised the faults of the worldly-minded clergy in
Rome, particularly in a widely circulated letter addressed to the nun
Eustochium—so that Rufinus afterwards accused him of putting
weapons into the hands of the Pagans against the Christians. But
1 Hee dicerem, si quippiam yigilans pro-
mississem ; nunc autem novum impudentiz
genus objicit mihi somnium meum. Sed
tamen qui somnium criminatur, audiat
prophetarum voces, somniis non esse cre-
dendum. Ady. Rufin.]. 1. f. 385, T. 1V. ed.
Martianay.
* Incentiva vitiorum ardoremque nature
ferre non poteram, quem quum crebris je-
juniis frangerem, mens tamen cogitationibus
zstuabat. Ad quam edomandam cuidam
fratri, qui ex Hebreis crediderat, me in dis-
ciplinam dedi. Ep. 95 (or 4) ad Rusticum.
8 Jerome ep. 11 (or 91) ad Ageruchiam:
Cum in chartis ecclesiasticis juvarem Da-
masum et orientis atque occidentis synodicis
consultationibus responderem.
4 Rufinus |. 11. invectiv.: Ea que gentiles
falso in nos conferre crimina putabantur,
iste vera esse,imo multo pejora a nostris
geri quam illi criminabantur asseruit. Cer-
tainly an unjust charge.
θ84 JEROME. HIS TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE.
as long as Damasus lived, Jerome was sufficiently protected by his
authority. But, as he died in the year 384, and his successor Siricius
seems not to have been so favorably disposed towards Jerome, he
saw himself under the necessity of yielding to the great number of his
enemies, and he determined to withdraw from Babylon, as he was
accustomed from this time forth to denominate Rome.1
Bethlehem, the place of resort for many monks, now became the
seat of his activity, where, under his guidance, young men were edu-
cated in sacred studies, and where, by the composition of his voluminous
works, relating chiefly to the exposition of the sacred scriptures, he
made himself extremely useful to the whole Western church. The like
services which had been rendered to the Oriental church by Origen,
in correcting the original text of the New Testament and the Greek
translation of the Old, Jerome rendered to the West by his corrections
of the Latin version of the Bible, now become greatly distorted by the
blending together of different translations, the mixing up with each
other of the different gospels, and the ignorance of transcribers.2, Sum-
moned to the task by the Roman bishop Damasus, who perceived the
need of such a correction of the text, he had already, while at Rome,
emended the translation of the gospels, and completed the same task on
the version of the Psalms. At Bethlehem, supported by the Hexapla of
Origen, which he obtained from the library at Caesarea, he extended
this work to the whole Bible. Even this was a bold undertaking; by
which he must expose himself to be loaded with reproaches on the part
of those who, in their ignorance, which they identified with a pious
simplicity,? were wont to condemn every deviation from the traditional
text, however necessary or salutary it might be. They were very
ready to see, in any change of the only text which was known to them,
a falsification, without inquirmg any farther into the reason of the
alteration. And, yet, here he had in his favor the authority of a Ro-
man bishop, as well as the fact, that in this case it was impossible to
oppose to him a translation established and transmitted by ecclesiastical
authority, or a divine inspiration of the text hitherto received.
But he must have given far greater offence by another useful under-
taking, viz: a new version of the Old Testament, not according to the
Alexandrian translation, which before this had alone been regarded,
but according to the Hebrew. ‘This appeared to many, even of those
who did not belong to the class of ignorant persons, a great piece of
impiety — to pretend to understand the Old Testament better than the
1 Ep. 99 ad Asellum, when just ready to
embark: Ora, ut de Babylone Hierosolymam
regrediar. And in the preface to his trans-
lation of the tract by Didymus on the Holy
Spirit: Cum in Babylone versarer et pur-
purate meretricis essem colonus.
2 Tot exemplaria quot codices, says Je-
rome, ep. 125 ad Damasum.
3 A class of men widely diffused in the
Western church, against whom Jerome says
many excellent things in defense of em-
ploying science in the service of the church.
Piscatorum se discipulos asserentés, quasi
idcirco sancti sint, si nihil scierint. Ep. 102
ad Marcellum.
4 Jerome in his preface to Damasus: Quis
enim doctus pariter vel indoctus, cum in
manus volumen assumserit, et a saliva
quam semel imbiberit, viderit discrepare
quod lectitat, non statim erumpet in voces:
me falsarium, me clamans esse sacrilegum,
qui audeam aliquid in veterum libris ad-
dere, mutare, corrigere.
RUFINUS. JOHN OF JERUSALEM. 685
seventy inspired interpreters, — better than the Apostles who had fol-
lowed this translation, and who would have given another translation
if they had considered it to be necessary — to allow one’s self to be so
᾿ misled by Jews, as for their accommodation to falsify the writings of the
Old Testament ! !
At that time there was formed in and about Jerusalem a noble soci-
ety of like-minded theologians, who agreed together in their zeal for the
advancement of theological science. With Jerome lived, on terms of
the most intimate union, the friend of his youth, the presbyter Rufinus
of Aquileia, who was residing at Jerusalem with the bishop John, with
whom he stood in the most friendly relations. All three shared in the
same love for the writings of Origen. Jerome had indeed sought to
make several of his works more widely known in the Western church
by means of translations, and had in his prefaces spoken of him with
the greatest admiration. ‘The spiritual bent of Jerome was beyond all
question quite different from that of Origen. Certainly, he had never
made himself master of his whole doctrinal system ; as, in general, he
was destitute of the mental impulse to form a system. His peculiar
intellectual discernment was directed rather on particulars than on the
general principles. And it might be for this very reason, that in mak-
ing use of Origen in his biblical commentaries, he adopted several of
his expositions, which were of such a kind as to agree neither with his
own other views of the faith nor with the dominant church system, with-
out deeming it necessary to utter a word of warning until his attention
had been directed by others to this opposition of views. But free and
unfettered as Jerome was on this side, while he was left to himself, he
could, nevertheless, easily be made narrow and confined by causes with-
out himself, when anything was pointed out to him which was opposed
to the orthodoxy of the church, and he had reason to apprehend he
might be suspected of any such thing himself. Anxiously solicitous
for the reputation of his orthodoxy, he was on this side extremely sen-
sitive.
Now, it happened about the year 394, that among the many who
made the pilgrimage from the West to the holy cities in Palestine, sev-
eral of the zealots for the letter of the church scheme of doctrine, such
as Aterbius, and still later Vigilantius, were among thenumber. They
had always been used to hear Origen spoken of as one of the most dan-
gerous of false teachers, without knowing anything more of him; and
hence they were greatly alarmed, when they were compelled to observe
that the writings of this father were here so much read, and that his
name was held in such high veneration. These zealots then could not
refrain from giving free utterance to their fears. ‘The bishop John and
Rufinus were not so ready to give way and indulge these people as Je-
rome was. It was of great importance to the latter, to take care that
no suspicion of his orthodoxy should be whispered in the Roman and
Western church. He was ready therefore to justify himself by jom-
1 All this Rufinus strenuously urges ipsam legem pervertere in aliud, quam
against Jerome in the second book of his Apostoli tradiderunt.
Invective: Istud nefas quomodo expiabitur,
6
VOL. Il. 9)
686 EPIPHANIUS AT JERUSALEM.
ing in the sentence of condemnation against the false doctrines of Origen,
which he might do without relinquishing his own convictions, though,
were it not for this outward challenge, he would never, perhaps, have
felt himself constrained to do ary such thing. Subsequent to this time
Jerome was more cautious, it is true, in expressing his judgments con-
cerning Origen ; but he still continued to declare himself respecting
him with a wise moderation, saying, that, on the maxim of Paul, which
directs us to prove all things and hold fast that which is good, he en-
deavored to make the same use of Origen as he did of other biblical
_expositors, appropriating what was valuable in his writings, while he
avoided his errors.
Yet he makes it quite manifest, that if no mid-way course could be
allowed to exist betwixt the extravagant admirers and the all-condemn-
ing opponents of Origen, he would prefer joining himself to the latter,
because they were the most pious.! On this principle Jerome actu-
ally proceeded, yielding to the zealots for orthodoxy, and espousing their
side, since they would allow of no neutrality and no middle ground.
In addition to this, there were also sources of personal irritation, the
influence of which, in a person of his sensitive and passionate temper,
easily intermingled with the doctrinal interest.
The cry against the Origenistic heresies at Jerusalem alarmed and
disturbed the aged Epiphanius, who, in respect to such matters, was as
excitable as he was credulous. He came himself to Jerusalem in
394, where he was received by the populace with great demonstrations
of respect, and, as was alleged against him by the bishop John, gave
way perhaps too much to these respectful attentions. He strenuously
insisted, in his interviews with the bishop John, that he ought to con-
demn Origen, the father of Arius and of all other heresies. The
bishop explained that he was accustomed in reading Origen to separate
the true from the false, but he avoided entering into any doctrinal in-
vestigations with Epiphanius, whose prejudices he would hardly have
been able to overcome, and with whom he could hardly have come to
any understanding on this matter. Epiphanius, however, preached a
discourse, in which he inveighed with great warmth against the defend-
ers of Origen’s false doctrines, so that, as it was doubtless well under-
stood whom he meant, disturbances were to be apprehended. ‘The
bishop John warned him, therefore, through his arch-deacon, during
the delivering of the sermon. Afterwards John himself preached
against the anthropomorphites. Epiphanius next mounted the pulpit
and joined in the condemnation of anthropomorphism; but declared
that it was necessary also to condemn the Origenists.
Displeased with what had taken place at Jerusalem, and still more
confirmed in his suspicion that at Jerusalem the Origenistic party was
dominant, he betook himself to the monks at Bethlehem, where his in-
fluence was unbounded. He warned them against having any fellow-
ship with the erroneous doctrines entertained at Jerusalem, and subse-
quently often repeated this warning. A part of the monks separated
1 See ep. 75 (26) ad Vigilantium. ep. 76 ad Tranquillinum.
RUFIN’S TRANSLATION OF ORIGEN. 687
themselves from all church-fellowship with the bishop John. Under
these circumstances, Epiphanius took a step, which, at a time of such
great excitement, he ought above all things to have avoided, and which,
.as the case stood, certainly exposes him to the suspicion of a set design.
He ordained as a presbyter Paullinianus, Jerome’s brother, —as he
affirmed, without any preconcerted plan, —in a cloister belonging to
his own diocese: and the latter could now perform the priestly func-
tions for the monks in Bethlehem, so that they were no longer under
the necessity of having recourse for these purposes to Jerusalem. ‘The
bishop John might very properly complain of it as a violation of eccle-
siastical rules — that a foreign bishop should ordain an ecclesiastic for
his own diocese. A violent controversy in writing ensued, in which
John complained solely of Epiphanius’ love of rule and disorderly con-
duct, avoiding as much as possible all mention of doctrinal matters,
while Epiphanius made the latter the principal topic of his remarks,
and called upon the bishop John to clear himself from the suspicion of
holding to the errors of Origen. Jerome embraced with eager-
ness the party of Epiphanius, and thus the ancient tie of friendship was
severed. The bishop John applied with his complaints to Alexandria
and to Rome. Jerome wrote to both churches in defense of the com-
mon cause. In vain did the bishop Theophilus of Alexandria endeavor,
through his presbyter Isidore, — who was, himself, however, as an Or-
igenist, suspected by the party of Epiphanius and Jerome — to bring
about a reconciliation. Yet near the close of the year 396, the matter
had progressed so far, that Jerome and Rufinus became reconciled at
the altar, and the peace of the church im this country was once more
restored.
But although the friendly relations between Jerome and Rufinus
seemed outwardly to be restored again, yet the communion of spirits
which had once been disturbed, certainly could not be so easily re-
newed, especially in the case of so irritable and suspicious a person as
Jerome. It needed but a slight occasion, to tear open again the slight-
ly healed wound ; and this was given by Rufinus, though without any in-
tention on his part, yet certainly not without his fault. In the year 397,
he returned from his travels back to the West, and repaired to Rome.
There he was induced, as he says, by the wishes of his friend Macari-
us! (who being engaged in writing a work against the astrological
fate, was desirous of learning the views of Origen on this subject) to
translate Origen’s work Περὶ ἀρχων into Latin. Now this, after what had
taken place before, was manifestly a very unwise undertaking. This
book, of all others, was directly calculated to stir up anew the narrow-
minded zealots of the Roman church against Origen; and as the pecu-
liar ideas of this work were so perfectly alien from the theological spirit
of the Roman church, no good whatever would result from making it
1 From this Roman writer (in distinction 28 de V. J.) mentions a liber adversus
from two famous monks of the same name, mathematicos, in which he had made great
belonging to the Scetic desert in Egypt) use of the Greek churech-teachers, which
Gennadius, who represents him, however, agrees with the testimony of Rufinus.
perhaps wrongly, to have been a monk, (c.
688 JEROME’S CONTROVERSY WITH RUFINUS.
known by a translation. But Rufinus did not even furnish the means
for studying and understanding Origen as a historical phenomenon. He
himself was too much carried away with wonder at the great man, and too
much fettered by the dependence of his own mind on the dominant
scheme of the church, to be able rightly to understand Origen in his
theological development. He was too little acquainted with the rela-
tion of the hidden depths of the Christian life and consciousness to the
progressive evolution of the conception of them in time, to be able to
form any correct judgment of the relation of Origen’s theology to the
church scheme of doctrine in his own age. He took the liberty to mod-
ify the doctrines of Origen, especially in those passages which had ref-
erence to the Trinity, according to the decisions of the council of Nice.
But he frankly confesses, also, in the preface to his translation, that in
such places he has not rendered the sense of Origen according to the
existing readings. Only he affirms, that he had introduced no foreign
matter, but had simply restored the original reading, which had been
corrupted by heretics, as the harmony with other passages required.
But, then, as he did not consistently carry through even this method,
but left many passages unaltered, which sounded no less heretical to
these times, so he exposed himself none the less to be accused by the
zealots of having found then in those passages nothing which would be
considered as heretical,—2in spite of his protestations, that, mm this
translation, it was not his design to exhibit his own views, but the orig-
inal doctrines of Origen, and that nothing else was to be learned from it
but these. At the same time, though perfectly aware of Jerome’s ex-
citable temper, and of the narrow and passionate spirit which charac-
terized his principal friends at Rome, he was still imprudent enough
to refer in his preface to the praise bestowed on Origen by Jerome, and
to the similar plan of translating his works into Latin, which the latter
had adopted.
Scarcely was there time for this translation and preface to become
known in Rome, when it excited among those people the most
vehement feelings of surprise and displeasure. ‘Iwo noble Romans,
Pammachius and Oceanus, who had kept up a correspondence with
Jerome ever since the period of his residence in Rome, were ex-
tremely concerned for the reputation of his orthodoxy, and hastened
to inform him of the scandal given to the Christians at Rome by
Rufinus. They called upon him, by a faithful translation of that
work, to exhibit Origen in his true colors, and to clear himself
from the suspicion of entertaining the same doctrines of Origen, which
Rufinus had cast upon him.! Jerome wrote back in a tone of high-
wrought excitement to his two friends and to Rufinus. Even at pre-
sent, however, he continued to express himself with the same mod-
eration concerning Origen; he spoke highly of his great gifts,
of his Christian ardor, of his merits as an expounder of the
Scriptures : — and he pronounced those to be the worst enemies of
1p. 40. Purga ergo suspiciones hominum, et convince criminantem, ne si dissimu.
laveris, consentire videaris.
THEOPHILUS OF ALEXANDRIA. 689
the great man, who had taken pains to publish those writings of his
which ought to have remained concealed. ‘‘ Let us not,” said he,
imitate the faults of the man whose excellencies lie beyond our
reach.’ But the relations betwixt Jerome and Rufinus grew contin-
“ually more hostile, and both of them in controversial, or more
properly speaking, abusive tracts, full of passionate language, for-
got their dignity both as theologians and as Christians ; as Augustin
had the frankness to tell Jerome, when he called upon him for their
own sakes, and out of respect to the weakg for whom Christ died,
to put an end to these revilings.! The influence of Jerome’s pow-
erful patrons in Rome, however, could nothinder Rufinus from being
justified by a letter addressed to him from the Roman bishop
Siricius. The more zealously, therefore, did they exert themselves
to excite a more unfriendly feeling towards Rufinus in the mind
of Anastasius, who, in the year 399, succeeded Siricius. But it
was chiefly the influence of Marcella, a widow, and ancient friend
of Jerome, which contributed to inspire in the mind of this Ro-
man bishop, (who, according to his own confession,? had until now
heard but little or nothing about Origen) great anxiety and solicitude
with regard to the spread of the Origenistic heresies.2 Rufinus
was summoned before his tribunal. He excused himself, it is true,
on account of his great distance, and for other reasons, from
personally making his appearance at Rome. But he sent in a let-
ter of defence and justification, containing a full and explicit con-
fession of his faith, appealing to the fact that on the question re-
specting the origin of the soul nothing had as yet been determined
by the church; and declaring that he, as a tfanslator, was in
nowise responsible for the assertions of the writer translated by him.
Anastasius, in the public declarations which he thereupon made,
expressed. himself with great violence against Origen, and also un-
favorably towards Rufinus. Meantime, however, the controversy
respecting Origen had taken a turn which led to far more important
consequences than would otherwise have followed it, and which com-
bined with it such an interest of another sort as caused its original
object to be forgotten.
We have remarked already, in an earlier part of this his-
tory, that the patriarch Theophilus, of Alexandria, had endeavored
to effect a reconciliation betwixt the two contending parties in this
controversy. He was at first closely connected with the Origen-
istic party among the Egyptian monks; as the aged presbyter Isi-
dore, who had great influence with him, belonged to this party; and
1 Vide Augustin. ep. 73, § 8. Heu mihi, qui
vos alicubi simul invenire non possum, forte
ut moveor, ut doleo, ut timeo, prociderem
ad pedes vestras, flerem quantum valerem,
rogarem quantum amarem, nunc unum-
quemque vestrum pro seipso, nunc utrum-
que pro alterutro, et pro aliis, et maxime in-
firmis, pro quibus Christus mortuus est.
2 The words of Anastasius, in his letter
*
VOL. II.
to the bishop John, are beyond question
very obscure, and the sense cannot be giveu.
with certainty: Origines autem antea et;
quis fuerit, et in que processerit verba, nos-
trum propositum nescit.
8 Jerome, in ep. 96 ad Principiam, pro-
nounces it the peculiar glory of the deceased
Marcella: Damnationis hereticoruam hee
fuit principium.
6900 ORIGENISTIC DISPUTES. THEOPHILUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
he agreed with them in opposing that crass and sensuous mode of
apprehending divine things, which prevailed among the so called
Anthropomorphites, the monks of the Scetic desert. But on the
principles of this individual little dependence could be placed ; for
worldly interests and passions had more power over him than prin-
ciples and rational convictions ; and he was unfavorably known under
a name signifying a man of instability, who was wont to accommo-
date himself to the change of circumstances.1 :
As the bishops of Alegandria, in the programmes with which at the
feast of Epiphany they made known the precise time of the Haster
festival next to be celebrated, were accustomed to unfold such par-
ticular topics of Christian faith and practice as were adapted to the
times ; so, in the year 399, Theophilus chose for this purpose to com-
bat the rude sensuous notions respecting that which constituted God’s
image in man, and,—what was closely connected with this point,—
respecting the divine essence itself. Now, this certainly was by no
means the best way to instruct and convince the monks who were
addicted to those erroneous doctrines ; for, as the case really was with
them, being for the most part men wholly without cultivation, and
coming from the lower ranks of society, and quite devoid of
all sense for matters purely spiritual, it was impossible for them
to apprehend that which was contained in their religious consciousness
in any other way than in forms of conception borrowed wholly from
sense ; and this sensuous form of apprehension had become so fused
and blended with the matter of their religious consciousness, that
he who robbed them of the one, seemed also to deprive them of
the other. Hence it was, that the discourse of Theophilus met,
among the Scetic monks, with a reception so expressive of violent
indignation, that but one abbot, namely, Paphnutius, had the boldness
to read it publicly, and this reading produced among the monks
a violent ferment. At the head of the Anthropomorphites in this
district, stood Serapion, a monk whose rigidly abstemious life had
procured for him the highest reverence’ and respect. Already it
had become a matter of rejoicing, that the united labors of many indi-
viduals, who entered with him into a comparison of scripture passages,
had been so far crowned with success, as that Serapion seemed to be
convinced his notions of the divine image and of the divine essence
were not tenable. But as they were about to unite together in a
prayer of thanks for this happy issue, and Serapion kneeled down
' for prayer with the rest, he missed the image under which he was
wont to adore the God present to his heart, and felt that he was
still unable to dispense with it. With the customary symbol, it
seemed to him that the beg whom he worshipped under this symbol,
was himself taken away. Full of despondency, the old man exclaim-
ed with tears, “ Poor wretch that I am! They have taken away
my God. On whom shall I now depend! ΤῸ whom shall I pray 1”?
1 Ὁ ἀμφαλλαξ, ὁ κόϑυρνος, terms applied 2. 8566 the account by Cassian, an eye-
to one who is accustomed to wear his cloak witness. Collat. 10.
according to the wind.
THE FOUR TALL BROTHERS. 691
ISIDORE.
A fierce troop of savage monks next hastened to Alexandria, and
threatened Theophilus, whom they denounced as an atheist, with
death. Theophilus, with whom prevarication and falsehoood cost
but little, contrived to soothe them in a most unworthy manner,
saying to them, ‘In you I behold the countenance of God.” This
appeared to the monks to be a confirmation of their notions of the
divine image, and even by this remark they were somewhat pacified.
Yet they required also of the patriarch, that he should condemn the
godless Origen, and in this, too, he yielded to their demands.1
At that time, Theophilus doubtless yielded only because he was
forced to do so by the frantic demands of these blind zealots, but not
with any design of abiding by this forced declaration. By degrees,
however, the temper and disposition of his mind underwent, throngh
influences from without, an entire change towards the Origenistic
monks. ‘This party had its principal seat in the caverns and cells of
the Salt-Petre mountain which bordered on the Scetic desert. Here ~
for a series of years had resided the deacon Evagrius of Pontus, fa-
mous on account of his ascetic writings, which were extensively read
not only in the Greek Church, but after they had been translated
into Latin by Rufinus, even in the church of the West.? At the
head of this party stood, at this time, the four brothers, Dioscurus,
Ammonius, Eusebius, and Euthymius, well known under the name of
the tall brothers (ἀδελφοὶ waxpoi) — pious men, though not wholly
exempt from a certain fanatical, ascetic tendency. Theophilus.
who was very friendly to these men, was desirous of gaining them
over to the service of the church, for which, however, they had
no inclination. At length he compelled Dioscurus to assume the
office of bishop of Hermopolis in Egypt ;— to two others he gave
the place of stewards ( οἰκόνομοι) in his own church. But precisely
in the administration of this office, they had occasion to experience
so many things derogatory to the bishop’s character, which filled
them with disgust, while, at the same time, these honest men
feared they should contract some defilement on their own souls,
that nothing could prevent them from hastening back to their own
beloved seclusion, under the pretext that they were no longer able to
endure the city life. But Theophilus penetrated their real motive,
and on this ground alone was greatly incensed. Added to this
was the influence of another occurrence. The presbyter Isidore,
already mentioned, a friend of those monks, and superintendent of
an alms-house in Alexandria — a man now eighty years old — had re-
ceived from a wealthy widow the sum of a thousand gold pieces,
for the purpose of purchasing clothing for the poor females in
Alexandria. In handing over the money she had made him pro-
1 See Sozom. VIII. 11.
2 He was a disciple of the two men who
had a great influence on the monastic life as
it was in this desert, and who stood in high
veneration, Macarius who was surnamed
Αἰγύπτιος, and Macarius, who, from being a
native of Alexandria, was called πολιτικὸς,
Under the name of the former we have fifty
homilies, which indeed are not quoted by
the ancient writers as his, but which harmo-
nize perfectly with the peculiar Christian
bent-of this monasticism.
692 ORIGENISTIC DISPUTES. THEOPHILUS OF ALEXANDRIA.
mise not to mention the matter to the bishop, whose all-grasping and
all-expending rage for building! she was afraid of. The discovery
of this secret aroused the whole wrath of Theophilus against Isidore.?
Under the pretext of false charges he persecuted him with the
utmost violence, deposed him from his office, and excommunicated
him from the church, till at last the persecuted Isidore took refuge
among the monks in the desert of Nitria. These having received
their ancient friend, drew down on themselves the vengeance of
Theophilus, whose feelings were already embittered towards them.
For the purpose of gratifying these revengeful feelings, Theophilus
took sides with the zealots against Origen, — first with the Anthropo-
morphites of the Scetic desert, whose fury he excited against the
Origenists; and with Jerome and Epiphanius. He found no diffi-
culty, at several synods convened in Alexandria, subsequent to the
year 399,5 to prevail upon bishops, in part already inclined, by their
own narrow zeal, to stigmatize Origen as a heretic, and in part accus-
tomed to serve as the blind tools of their patriarch, to unite with him-
self in pronouncing sentence of condemnation on the doctrines and
the writings of Origen, and in forbidding them tobe read. As the
monks were not disposed to yield a blind obedience to these decrees,
Theophilus seized upon this as a pretext for calling upon the Prefect
of Egypt for an armed band to attack them. They were fallen
upon in their peaceful retreats, where for a long series of years
they had lived in quiet seclusion, shamefully abused, and forced to
disperse. Highty of these persecuted men fled from their desert to
one place and another, but could nowhere find a home; since Theo-
philus sent after them letters dictated by violent passion and mali-
cious cunning, in which he seized upon many extravagancies of
fanatical ascetism (which he had before been very ready to overlook)
for the purpose of rendering them suspected as wild and dangerous
enthusiasts. At length they resolved to seek redress from the impe-
rial court at Constantinople; in hopes, too, that the well-known Christ-
ian philanthropy of the bishop of the residentialcity, John Chrysostom,°
who was not less favorably known
1'O χρυσομανὴς Kai AvIoAatpic —so he is
called by Isidore of Pelusium, |. I. ep. 152.
2 Such is the account of the warm friend
of Chrysostom and of the Origenistic monks,
the bishop Palladius of Helenopolis in Bi-
thynia, in his dialogical narrative of Chry-
sostom’s life. Opp. Chrysost. ed. Montf. 'T.
XIII. The account by Sozomen, VIII. 12,
serves to confirm the former, for it seems to
presuppose this as the original one. <Ac-
cording to Sozomen’s account, for instance,
Theophilus demanded of Isidore part of a
large sum of money which had been given
him, for the purpose of expending it on
church buildings. But Isidore declined to
give it up, because it was better, he said, to
use the money in behalf of the living tem-
ple of God. True, this account is referred
back to the Origenistic monks, the same
for his reckless zeal against all
source from which Sozomen’s acquaintance
had heard it. But the predicates which
Jsidore applies to Theophilus render the
thing very credible. Isidore of Pelusium
also traces the whole to the hostility of
Theophilus towards the other Isidore: Τὴν
περὶ τὸν ἐμοὶ ὁμώνυμον ἀπέχϑειαν Kai δυσ-
μένειαν. ‘The other causes which are stated
of the hostility of Theophilus, may have
first given occasion for his altered tone to-
wards Isidore.
3 Sulpicius Severus (Dial. I. 6) mentions
several synods.
4 Sulpicius Severus, who at that time was
residing in this country, says, (Dialog. I. ¢.
7:) Scexvo exemplo ad regendam ecclesize
disciplinam przefectus assumitur.
6 The admiration of his eloquence soon
gave him this surname.
CHRYSOSTOM. HIS EARLY LIFE. 693
wrong and injustice, than for his brilliant eloquence, would serve to
defend them against the unrighteous fury of their adversaries. But
before we proceed to the farther development of these events, we
must throw a glance at the life of the great man, who was thus
“drawn into a participation in these disputes.
He was born at Antioch in the year 847. His pious mother,
Anthusa, who, being early left a widow, devoted herself entirely to
his education, was to him what Monica was to Augustin. But
the seeds of faith, sown in his infant mind, were not, as in the case
of Augustin, long kept in check by the predominance of wild pas-
sions ; and without experiencing such violent storms and struggles in
his more gentle soul, he was enabled to develop himself with a
quiet and gradual progress, under many favorable influences, as we
have already remarked, (p. 657.) ‘Through a rich inward experi-
ence, he lived into the understanding of the holy scriptures; and a
prudent method of interpretation on logical and grammatical princi-
ciples, kept him in the right track in deriving the spirit from the
letter of the sacred volume. His profound and simple, yet fruitful
homiletic method of treating the holy scriptures, show to what ex-
tent he was indebted to both, and how, in his case, both co-operated
together.
By the study of the ancients he secured to himself the advan-
vantage of a harmonious mental and rhetorical culture, which in his
case was ennobled by the divine principle of life drawn from the
gospel. A heart full of the love which flows from faith, gave to his
native eloquence, cultivated by the study of the ancients, its animating
charm. °
The man who had been thus educated for the office of a preacher,
labored twelve years, from 886 onward, with burning zeal, as a pres-
byter under the bishop Flavian of Antioch ; and the latter, in consid-
eration of his distinguished gifts, had entrusted to his particular
care the religious instruction and edification of the church. The
sermons which he there preached show how earnestly alive he was to
the duty of promoting not a formal orthodoxy, but vital Christianity ;
to expose the vanity of a merely outward Christianity, and to destroy
all confidence in it. With a freedom and boldness which feared no
consequences, he inveighed against the prevailing corruptions in every
rank of society, even when they appeared under a Christian guise.
In Antioch he had won the affections of many, to whom his labors
had proved a blessing ; and the hatred of individuals, who felt them-
selves too roughly handled by his discourses, could, under these cir-
cumstances, do him no injury.
But a wider and more splendid, though, at the same time, a far more
dangerous and unquiet field of labor was opened for him, when
Eutropius, who, at that time, possessed unbounded influence at the
imperial court, and who, happening to be one of his hearers on a cer-
tain occasion, was quite carried away by his eloquence, was the occa-
sion of his being called, in the year 897, to the bishopric of Constanti-
nople. Peculiarly dangerous was this field for a man of his freedom
694 CHRYSOSTOM AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
of spirit, so used to chastise every form of ungodliness without respect
of persons —a man who, in his impatient indignation at wickedness
and zeal for oppressed innocence, could not stop to measure his words
by the rules of prudence. ‘The way in which he diminished the pomp
and state of the episcopacy, for the purpose of devoting what was
thus saved to benevolent institutions, displeased the people of Con-
stantinople, who were so fond of display, and excited the discontent
of those whose selfish interests were injured thereby. Worldly-minded
ecclesiastics and monks, whom he reminded of their duty, became his
enemies. Ata visitation of the churches, which he was obliged to
make at Ephesus, in the year 400, on account of certain disputes
and the difficulties which grew out of them, he greatly contributed,
by the severity with which he sought to enforce respect for the
ecclesiastical laws, so often violated by reason of the prevailing worldly
interest, to increase the number of his enemies, especially among the
higher ranks of the clergy. Doubtless it may have been the case,
also, that in certain moments of vehement indignation against sin,
which proceeded however from the purest motives, he allowed himself
to be transported beyond measure; and too rashly undertaking to
promote the right and to punish what was bad, did not always pay
due respect to existing forms. Perhaps, too, he may have occasionally
placed too much confidence in his arch-deacon Serapion, a passionate
man, and been persuaded by him to the adoption of measures which had
not been carefully weighed.
Not less surely must he in various ways have excited against him
the most powerful personages about court, by the manner in which he
chastised the prevailing vices and took part with the innocent against
their oppressors. Eutropius himself, who in the most insolent manner
abused his power to the ruin of many, was the first to become his
violent enemy. But when the prophetic warnings of the man who
alone dealt honestly with him, were verified, and he saw himself at
the lowest ebb of fortune, forsaken. by all, Chrysostom was his
only protector at the altar of the church, to which he had fled for
refuge from the infuriated populace.
The ambitious and covetous empress EHudoxia often fell into violent
transports of rage against Chrysostom, which she vented in the most
bitter threats, when she imagined herself to be aimed at by anything
he had uttered in his sermons, when he protected orphans and widows
_ from her own avarice or resentment, or from that of her favorites,
when he opposed the acts of injustice of which she was the author,
and addressed her conscience with the earnest sincerity of ἃ bishop.
Thus, there had grown up at Constantinople a party of ill-disposed
ecclesiastics and nobles, men and women, in opposition to the man
of truly pious and noble feelings ; and sometimes this party was led
on by the empress herself, whose superstitious fears, however,
often compelled her to become reconciled again to the venerated
bisho
It ἡμλο μη ϑὰ precisely at an iMtopval of this sort, when Chrysostom
stood on good terms with the empress, that the monks above-mentioned
THE PERSECUTED MONKS APPLY TO HIM. 695
arrived at Constantinople. They entreated the bishop to grant them
protection, declaring to him, that if he refused it, they would be forced
to apply immediately to the emperor. Chrysostom knew how to unite
-what was required of him by Christian charity with the cireumspec-
tion of Christian prudence.! He wished and hoped he might be able
to settle the difficulty in the wisest way by offering his own mediation to
bring about a reconciliation between Theophilus and these unfortunate
men; and in order to this it was necessary for him to avoid any step
which might offend the man whose irritable character was well known
to him. He gave the monks a friendly reception; he assigned them
a place of abode, and one of the pious females who were accustomed,
under his direction, to devote their property or the labor of their
hands to works of Christian charity, provided for their bodily wants.
But in compliance with the ecclesiastical rules, he refused to admit
them to the communion, since they had been excommunicated by their
bishop. In a letter which he wrote im their behalf to the
bishop Theophilus, he earnestly besought the latter to pardon the
monks, as a favor to himself. But Theophilus, stead of paying any
attention to this request, immediately dispatched certain persons to
Constantinople for the purpose of lodging an accusation against the
monks. The latter now proceeded, on their part, to bring a number
of aggravated charges against their bishop. Chrysostom an a report
of this to Theophilus, informing him that it would be out of his power
to prevent them from applying with their complaints to the emperor
himself. By this Theophilus was still more excited; especially, as he
had been told by persons who were very desirous of stirring up a
quarrel between him and Chrysostom, that the latter had admitted
the monks to the communion, and thus declared null the sentence
which Theophilus had pronounced against them. In his reply, The-
ophilus reminded Chrysostom that according to the fifth canon of the
Council of Nice,? every bishop was bound to recognize as valid the
sentence of excommunication pronounced by another, till its injustice
was proved by a new investigation, which, however, could be com-
menced and carried through only im the church diocese in which the
difficulty had occurred. By this law, it is true, cases like the present
one stood a very uneven chance; for how could the poor monks in
the church diocese of Theophilus, where everything was so entirely
dependent on himself, hope to find anywhere among the bishops an
equitable decision? Chrysostom now endeavoured to extricate himself
from the whole affair. But the monks availed themselves of a favor-
able moment to lay their petition before the empress Eudoxia, in
which they proposed that the bishop of the imperial residence should
be nominated judge in this matter, and that Theophilus should be
compelled to appear before his tribunal. The empress, in whom su-
1 If we may credit the report of Palladias — hines alone, at least in part by the author-
bishop of Helenopolis, who wrote, indeed ities of Socrates and Sozomen.
as a prejudiced friend of Chrysostom, butis 3 Compare the account by Palladius with
confirmed, however, though he reports many the words of Chrysostom himsclf, in his
first letter to Innocent bishop of Rome, § 2.
696 THEOPHILUS CITED TO CONSTANTINOPLE. HIS INTRIGUES.
perstition and immorality wrought in concert together, placed great
store on the blessing of such monks. ΤῸ obtain this she received
their petition, and easily found means of persuading her husband,
over whom her influence was unbounded, to comply with their re-
quest. Theodore was summoned to Constantinople, where a synod
under the presidency of the patriarch was to decide his case.
From this time, the affair took an entirely different turn. The
contest with the Origenists had hitherto been with Theophilus only
a pretext, a means of taking vengeance on the monks; but now this
object was dropped, and everything from henceforth made subservient
to the main purpose, which was to avenge the imagined injury done
to his honor by Chrysostom, and to bring about the ruin of the lat-
ter. For the accomplishment of this object, means would not be
wanting to a person of his character, and among the description of
people by whom Chrysostom was surrounded.
He entered into correspondence with the enemies of Chrysostom
among the more eminent clergy and laity of Constantinople ; and he
endeavored to secure, as a useful instrument for effecting his designs,
the bishop Epiphanius, —a man whose venerable years and whose
zeal for the orthodox faith gave him great influence among the bishops.
Besides the circular letter which he sent to all the bishops of the
East, calling upon them to join in the decisions of that Egyptian
council against Origen, he sent a particular letter to Epiphanius, for
the purpose of inflaming the zeal of the old man, which was so easily
excited and so credulous in regard to such matters. It is true, he
allowed nothing at all tending to the injury of Chrysostom to find
entrance into this letter ; but he called his attention to the danger
which threatened the church, when monks burning with zeal to propa-
gate this new heresy,! had betaken themselves to Constantinople, hoping
to gain, in addition to the older ones, new proselytes to their impious
doctrines.2 He therefore urgently advised him to assemble the bishops
of his island for the purpose of condemning Origen and the Origenis-
tic heresies, to send in connection with them a synodal letter on this
subject to the patriarch of Constantinople, and also to bring the
bishops of Isaurea and Pamphylia, as well as the other bishops in his
vicinity, to the knowledge of this matter.
Epiphanius immediately complied with this invitation, and im the year
401 held the council for the condemnation of Origen; but Chrysostom
showed no inclination whatever to take part in these measures of a blind
heresy-making zeal. The cold reception which these communications
met with from -him was now eagerly seized upon by Theophilus as a
means of rendering Chrysostom himself suspected of entertainmg the
Origenistic heresy. He sought to persuade Epiphanius that it was
necessary to assemble a synod against the Origenistic heresy at Con-
stantinople itself, where at all times many bishops were to be found to-
gether ; and this Synod was to be made the instrument of effecting the
1 Calumniatores vers fidei novo pro hx- οὐ veteribus su impietatis sociis contungan-
resi furore bacchantes. δὲ tur.
2 Ut et novos, si quos valuerim, decipiant,
SYNOD OF THE OAK. 697
downfall of Chrysostom. Epiphanius came in the year 402, accompa-
nied with bishops of his diocese, to Constantinople. Chrysostom paid
him all due respect, and did everything in his power to alter his inten-
tions. But Epiphanius refused to have any fellowship with him, unless
he joined in the condemnatory sentence against Origen, and withdrew
his protection from the monks. ΤῸ neither of these demands could
Chrysostom conscientiously yield. Epiphanius now proceeded still
farther in his blind zeal, and allowed himself to be drawn into many
violations of ecclesiastical law, to which in such cases he was wont to pay
but little attention. But perhaps a conversation with some of the per-
secuted monks, besides other reasons, led him to surmise that the cause
he was serving was not so very pure —and his own zeal, though utter-
ly devoid of caution and prudence, was at least an honest one.’ He
merely served as an unwitting tool to promote the designs of cunning,
and hence he was now thrown into perplexity. He quitted Constanti-
nople without waiting for the other bishops who were to assemble there
on the like business, and in taking leave of the bishops who attended
him to the place of embarkation, he said, ‘‘I leave to you the capital,
the court, and hypocrisy.” }
Theophilus, after having satisfactorily prepared the way in common
concert with the party hostile to Chrysostom, and with the empress, who
had once more fallen out with her bishop, so that he might confidently
hope for a happy issue to his designs, came to Constantinople in the
year 403, to appear not, as was originally designed, in the character of
a defendant, but as a judge. As the enthusiastic love of the great
majority of the church for their bishop gave his enenfies no security of
being able to accomplish their insidious designs in the city itself, The-
ophilus assembled his synod in a neighboring place, at a villa near
Chalcedon, known by the name of the Oak.? This synod was com-
posed of his own partisans among the bishops, some of whom had
come with him, while others had been summoned by him, and others
had met together on various matters of business at Constantinople.
At this synod no further mention whatever was made of the Origen-
istic heresies; but from the mouth of persons hostilely disposed to Chry-
sostom, as for example, those worthless ecclesiastics and monks who
had been chastised by him, charges were received against him, which
had reference to facts of an entirely different nature. These charges
were in part manifest inventions, or perversions of the truth, as we are
compelled to believe, when we compare them with the known disposi-
tion and habits of the man ; and in part they were based on allegations
redounding rather to his honor than to his shame, and which, when thus
employed against him, only showed the bad disposition of his opponents.
Thus, for example, because he did not provide a splendid table, like
other court bishops; because he continued to observe at Constantino-
ple a retired and simple mode of life ; and moreover, on account of his
feeble state of health, was in the habit of eating alone, his enemies
l’Adginut ὑμῖν τὴν πόλιν Kal τὰ βασίλεια 2 Hence known by the-name of the σύν-
καὶ τὴν ὑπόκρισιν. : οὗος πρὸς τὴν ὁρῦν.
VOL. II. 09
698 CHRYSOSTOM DEPOSED.
were not ashamed to admit against him the charge of having by his
habits of solitary living, neglected the duty of hospitality, and of hay-
ing led by himself a life of Cyclopean gluttony.1 The most plausible
ground of complaint may have been furnished by Chrysostom himself,
when, in his zeal to preserve the strictness of church discipline, he failed
of paying sufficient respect to the existing forms of ecclesiastical law,
and when he often allowed a pious indignation to vent itself in too vio-
lent expressions. Only against several of the friends of Chrysostom
some special use was still made of the charge of Origenistic heresy.
While these things were transpiring at the council, Chrysostom found
himself surrrounded by forty respectable bishops, his friends from va-
rious countries of the East, who knew what a loss the church would suf-
fer in him, and whom he was endeavoring to console and encourage.
When the deputies of the council of the Oak presented themselves
here for the purpose of citing him before their tribunal, those friends
of Chrysostom did, indeed, pronounce the court to be an incompetent
one, as they were authorized to do by all the forms of ecclesiastical
law as it then was; but he declared himself ready, in the conscious-
ness of his innocence, to appear before this assembly, as before any
other in the world, provided only that four bishops, who were his
avowed enemies,” should be excluded from the number of his judges.
As this very just demand was not conceded to him, he declined even
after a third citation supported by an imperial notary, to obey the sum-
mons, and the synod, urged by a message of the emperor, who had be-
come hostile to him through the influence of Eudoxia, to pass the defin-
itive sentence, pronounced upon him, since he had by his non-appear-
ance declared himself to be guilty, the sentence of deposition. They
were mean enough to add: that, as among the charges laid against Chry-
sostom was contained also the accusation of high-treason, (which proba-
bly referred to the charge of his having shown disrespect to the empress, )
and as it did not belong to the bishops to inquire into such matters,
they left it for the emperor himself to take care that he should be re-
moved, even if it required force, from the church, and, on account of
the last-mentioned offence, be delivered over to punishment.
Yet partly religious considerations and partly the fear of movements
among the people, who day and night surrounded the residence of the
bishop and the church, prevented the emperor from haying recourse at
once to violence. And Chrysostom was resolved not to leave his office
voluntarily ; for he looked upon his connection with the flock entrusted
to him by the Lord, as one which could be dissolved only by a force to
which he must be compelled to yield. Meantime he delivered to the
assembled people a fiery discourse, full of the high-hearted courage of
faith, yet not with all the self-control and prudence which would have
been becoming, so that many an expression escaped him which might
produce, in the inflammable minds of the Constantinopolitans, still
1 Ὅτι τὴν φιλοξενίαν ἀϑετεῖ, povooiriay 5 Even the unprejudiced Isidore of Pelu-
ἐπιτηδεύων, ὅτι μόνος ἐσϑιει, ἀσώτως Gov Κυκ- siam, (I. 159.) says that Theophitus de-
λώπων βίον. See the extract from the Acts stroyed Chrysostom, τέσσαρσι συνέργοις, ἢ
in Photius. Cod. 59. μᾶλλον συναποστάταις, ὀχυρωὺ εἴς.
CHRYSOSTOM RESTORED. NEW QUARREL. 699
greater excitement. But when this effect actually ensued, Chrysostom
showed how foreign it was from his self-denying spirit to think of tak-
ing advantage of such an excited state of feeling, as he easily might
have done, for his personal advantage ; for as soon as he heard that it was
actually intended to remove him by force, and he believed that he had
done all that conscience required to prevent all tumults, he contrived
on the third day at noon, without being observed by the multitude, to
make good his retreat from the church, and was conveyed into exile.
But a few days after he left Constantinople, a deputy from the empress
came to him with a letter full of protestations, beseeching him to return ;
for an earthquake, which was usually interpreted as a token of the di-
vine displeasure, and the indignation of the populace already excited
by the overbearing triumph of his enemies, and which was thereby in-
creased, had filled the empress withcalarm and remorse of conscience.
Chrysostom was received back again by the church at Constantino-
ple, with universal joy. He was unwilling, indeed, to reénter upon the
functions of his office, until he had been formally justified and restored
by a synod regularly assembled ; but the affection of his flock compel-
led him at once to resume the episcopal chair, and to bestow on them
from this the episcopal blessing. Yet the assembling of this synod was
promised him, and he ceased not to insist upon its fulfilment, until his
relations, which rested on so frail a foundation, again took an entirely
different turn. It could not fail to happen, that the vain and ambitious
empress would soon be incensed and irritated again by the boldness of
the man who rebuked crime without any fear of the consequences.
This took place after he had enjoyed a tranquility οἵα only two months
duration. The occasion was as follows : —
In front of the palace where the imperial senate held their assem-
blies, a magnificent silver statue had been erected to the empress Eu-
doxia. Its dedication was, as usual in such cases, accompanied with
noisy and often indecent festivities, bordering on the customs of heath-
enism. The place where this occurred was so near to the great church,
that the devotions of the assembly were unavoidably disturbed by it,
and it happened, perhaps, on some festival day of the church. Our in-
formation respecting the course of this affair is not sufficiently authen-
tic to enable us to determine with any certainty, whether Chrysostom
was misled by his natural warmth of temper to do many things contrary
to the dictates of prudence; whether it was at the very outset, when
flushed by the sense of wrong, or whether it was not until after he had
tried other means with the empress in vain, that in a sermon he violent-
ly inveighed against these abuses. This being doubtless reported to the
empress with an exaggerated coloring, she began to enter into new
conspiracies with the enemies of.Chrysostom, and the latter was now
hurried along by his indignation at these new plots (if indeed his lan-
guage has been reported to us in its original form) to begin a discourse
perhaps at a festival commemorative of the martyrdom of John the
Baptist, with the words: ‘ Once more Herodias maddens — once more
she dances, and once more demands the head of John.”
When this was thus reported to the empress, she abandoned herself
700 CHRYSOSTOM’S BANISHMENT AND DEATH.
wholly to her resentment ; and she might easily so represent the matter
to the weak Arcadius, as to induce him to lend his hand in bringing
about the destruction of Chrysostom. The synod which Theophilus
led out from Alexandria, was employed as the instrument for this pur-
pose. By its advice advantage was taken, without recurring to the
earlier charges against Chrysostom, of a law issued by the council of
Antioch, A.D. 841, but which was never put in force except at such
times and to such extent as some momentary interest required, — the
rule, namely, that a bishop who had been deposed by a synod, and who
had been reinstated in office, not by another ecclesiastical court, but by
the secular power, should remain forever incapable of administering
the functions of that office. Deposed from his episcopate, Chrysostom
was conveyed into exile in the June of the year 404.
In a series of trials which conducted him towards a glorious end,
he had every opportunity of manifesting the greatness, power, and tran-
quility of a soul wholly penetrated by the faith of the gospel. After
a long and painful journey, m which he was still compelled to endure
much shame and persecution from the angry hatred and fanaticism of
his enemies, he arrived at the place of his banishment in the desolate
city of Cucusus, on the borders of Armenia, Isaurea and Cilicia.
Here he had much to suffer from the rude climate and from repeated
threatening invasions of Isaurean robbers; but instead of needing con-
solation himself, it was he whose words, full of confidence, and of the en-
ergy of faith, gave heart and courage to his friends at Constantinople.
From this place, he guided the devoted flock whom he had heen forced
to leave. In this remote spot, he was the soul of the pious enterprises
of his friends, as for example, of their efforts to spread the gospel
among the Persians and the Goths. To promote this object, he was
ready to take the first step towards reconciliation with bishop Maruthas
of Mesopotamia, a man who had assisted to procure his condemnation ;
and even when Maruthas declined coming to any accommodation, he
still invited his friends to do all in their power to sustain him By the
noble example of his charity, by his spiritual counsels and instructions,
he was the means of great good to the whole district where he resided.
Such a light could not be put under a bushel; it would shine, wher-
ever it might be: and Chrysostom met with the fullest sympathy, es-
pecially from the Roman church, whose bishop, Innocent, declared very
strongly in his favor. This served to rekindle the jealousy and resent-
ment of his enemies ; for they had reason to fear that his friends might
eventually succeed in again bringing him back to Constantinople. ‘This
they were determined to prevent ; they meant to place Chrysostom .at
last where he would be totally forgotten. In the summer of the year
407, he was conveyed to a new place of exile, at the very verge of the
Roman empire, in the waste town of Pityus in Pontus, situated in the
midst of barbarians. His body, exhausted by previous sufferings, sunk
under the hardships of this long and difficult journey. He died on the
way, near Comanum in Pontus, in the full and peaceful consciousness
of his approaching end, and with bright visions into the life eternal.
Those words of Job, which in his own seasons of quiet prosperity he so
SCHISM OF THE JOHANNITES. 701
often impressed on the hearts of his hearers, and which in his times of
trial he so often presented to himself and to his friends as the richest
source of consolation: Blessed be the Lord for all things, (δόξα τῷ ϑεῷ
πάντων évexa!) were the last on his lips, worthily closing a life conse-
crated to God, and resigned to His will in all conflicts and sufferings.
But it was beyond the reach of any earthly power to extinguish the
memory of this martyr from the minds of men who had felt the divine
energy of his life and doctrines. ‘There continued to exist at Constan-
tinople a distinct and separate party of Johannites, who refused to
recognize the validity of the act by which Chrysostom was deposed,
and to acknowledge any one as their bishop who was appointed to
succeed him. They held on Sundays and festival days their private
meetings, which were conducted by clergymen who thought like them-
selves, and from these alone they would receive the sacraments. As
among this party were to be found, also, many of the more excitable
people of Constantinople, and every attempt to suppress them by force
only rendered the opposition still more violent, many sanguinary tumults
ensued. This schism spread more widely in the church; for other
bishops and clergymen, who also protested against the injustice of the
sentence pronounced on Chrysostom, and who continued to venerate his
memory, came over to this party. They were sustained by the Roman
church, which constantly asserted in the strongest terms the innocence
of Chrysostom. His second successor, the bishop Atticus, took the
first step towards a reconciliation, by introducing his name expressly
into the church prayers offered in behalf of those bishops who had died
in the orthodox faith. He made an agreement with the Patriarch
Theophilus of Alexandria, to grant a universal amnesty to all the
adherents of Chrysostom among the clergy. A greater schism of the
church was by this means prevented: but, at Constantinople, a small
party of Johannites continued to hold their ground. The Patriarch
Proclus first succeeded in putting a final end to the schism in that city.
Having, in the year 438, prevailed upon the emperor Theodosius II,?
to allow the remains of Chrysostom to be brought back to Constanti-
nople, and to be buried there with solemn pomp, he persuaded the
remnant of the Johannites, appeased by the satisfaction thus done to the
memory of their beloved bishop, to connect themselves once more with
the ruling church.
For the rest, this passionate and violent mode of proceeding to sup-
press the Origenistic doctrines, was calculated much rather to excite
than to check-the zeal for these doctrines. ‘They who, like Theophilus,
opposed the Origenistic heresy only as a convenient means of gratifying
their private passions, were hence more tolerant in other cases where
these passions were not interested. Theophilus himself gave a remark-
1See Socrat. VII. 25. Synes. ep. 66 δ sentio, sive heresis, ut putatur, non solum
Theophilum. reprimi non potuit multis animadversionibus
2 Socrat, VIL 45. sacerdotum; sed nequaquam tain late se
8 As is remarked by an eye-witness of a potuisset effundere, nisi contentione cre
art of these events, Sulpicius Severus, visset.
Dialog I. c. 3: Sive illud error est, ut ego
VOL. 11. "
SYNESIUS, BISHOP OF PTOLEMAIS.
able exemplification of this ten years later. The church at Ptolemais,
the chief city of Pentapolis, laity and clergy, in the year 410, unani-
mously made choice of the philosopher Synesius of Cyrene (see above,
p- 108) to be their bishop—a man who had never left the silent
retirement where he pursued his studies, except when his services were
demanded for the good of his country. But the candid scholar frankly
declared, and in such a way that the bishop Theophilus would be sure
to hear of it, that his philosophical convictions did not on many points
agree with the doctrines of the church; and among these differences
he reckoned many things which were classed along with the Origenistic
heresies, as for example, the doctrine of the preéxistence of souls, his
different views of the resurrection, on which point he probably departed
far more widely than Origen from the view taken by the church, inas-
much as he interpreted it as being but the symbol of a higher idea.!
Synesius was willing, indeed, as he declared, to keep his peculiar
philosophical convictions to himself; for he supposed, conformably with
his Platonic mode of distinguishing between esoteric and exoteric re-
ligious doctrines, that the pure truth could never become the popular
faith. But at the same time, he would never consent to'teach any-
thing himself which was at variance with his own convictions.2_ Despite
of this open declaration of Synesius, Theophilus did not hesitate to
follow the aged ecclesiastics in Ptolemais, who said it was to be ex-
pected that the grace of the Holy Spirit would’ not leave this work
incomplete, but would lead still further into the knowledge of the truth
the man whom he had led so far in the religious life. And he ordained
him as bishop of this metropolis.
Not every ecclesiastic, however, who thus differed in his convictions
from the doctrines of the ruling church, was as candid as Synesius.
Notwithstanding all the efforts to preserve the churches against every
deviation from the established articles of faith, it was still impossible to
look into the inward principles of those to whom the offices of the
church were confided.? At the same time, there had not as yet been
expressed by any ecumenical council the opposition to the peculiar doc-
trines of Origen, and down to the times of the emperor Justinian, (see
above, p. 538. Note 1,) no means had as yet been devised for pre-
serving the church, by means of a prescribed confession of faith, to be
acknowledged by ecclesiastics previous to their ordination, against
every possible heretical tendency. Hence we find many proofs, that
Origenistic doctrines continued to be propagated in the Hast, among
1 Ἱερόν τι καὶ ἀπόῤῥητον.
2 Ου στασιάσει μοι πρὸς τῆν γλώτταν 7
γνώμη. See ep. 105 ed. Basil. p. 358.
8 In consequence of the deplorably bad
manner in which spiritual offices were often
fillled (see the sect. on the church constitu-
tion) it might happen, that in a time when
so great stress was laid on formal orthodoxy,
men attained to spiritual offices, who had
made themselves suspected of no heresy,
because all matters of faith generally were
considered of no consequence by them; but
who went so far in their infidelity, which
proceeded not from any sceptical bent of
understanding, but from fleshly rudeness
and utter immorality, that they in fact de-
nied the immortality of the soul; and who
still did not hesitate to perform all the spir-
itual functions, looking upon the whole in
no. other light than as a means of gain.
See examples of such presbyters in Isidor
1. III. ep. 235 and 295.
ORIGENISM CONDEMNED UNDER JUSTINIAN. 703
ecclesiastics and monks, even after this period ;! and many were foolish
enough to introduce into their sermons doctrinal opinions which had so
little to do with the interests of faith.2
Hence, under the reign of the emperor Justinian, there arose a new
and violent strife betwixt the advocates and the opponents of the
Origenistic doctrines among the monks in Palestine.? It now so hap-
pened, owing to circumstances which we have already explained, that
the emperor Justinian was drawn to participate in these disputes; that
he published an elaborate edict, with extracts from the writings of
Origen, aimed at the condemnation of this great church- teacher, and
his peculiar heretical doctrines which were thus pointed out; and that, in
consequence, a council which met at Constantinople, under the presi-
dency of the Patriarch Mennas, in the year 541, confirmed this con- °
demnation, and established fifteen canons in opposition to the Origenis-
tic doctrines.
According to the old accounts, which go back ie the period in which
these events took place, the fifth ’ general council also, in the year 553,
(see above, p. 548,) renewed the condemnation of Origen and his
doctrines; and among the canons with which the council concluded
their labors in the eighth session,‘ the twelfth canon, after condemn-
ing the heretics condemned by the older ecumenical councils, does
actually treat of the condemnation of Origen. In this case, we must
presume that the candor of the Origenistic party, who had been the
authors of the whole controversy respecting the three chapters, (see
above, pp. 538—540,) allowed themselves here, as on earlier occa-
1See 6. g. Isidore, 1. IV. ep. 163. ΝῊ:
epp. 188190, II. 191.
other, ἰσόχριστοι. The former, as it may be
conjectured, gave special prominence to the
* As for example, the Platonico-Origen-
istic doctrine of the preéxistence of souls ; —
that the Son was a higher intelligence cre-
ated after the image of God. See the epis-
tles of Nilus just referred to. The latter
says to a preacher of this sort: Τί ἄν δια-
φέροι καπνῳδίας τὸ σὸν διάγγελμα, τὸ στασιο-
ποῖον τε καὶ ἀκερόές. The abbot Isidore, a
man distinguished for his practical bent of
mind, shows this also, in his judgment of
the controversy respecting the origin of
souls. The advocates of the doctrine of
preéxistence — he supposes—must agree
with their opponents at least on this point,
that the moral conflict is required for the
purification of ‘the soul, for its return to its
original state; and herice he concludes:
᾿Αφεμένοι τοίνυν τοῦ ζυγομαχεῖν περὶ τῶν
ἀμφισβητησίμων, ἐις τὸ ὁμολογούμενον ἑαυτοὺς
συν: ae med i
3 See above, p. 476. There were then
forming among the Origenists two parties,
respecting whose distinctive views we can
only derive some probable conclusions from
the names given to them, compared with
the doctrines of Origen. One party (see
Cyrill. Seythopolitan, vita S. Saba, § 89, in
Coteler. monumenta ecclesix Grece, t. III.)
were called πρωτύκτισται or τετραδῖται : the
Origenistic doctrine respecting the preéxist-
* ing soul of Christ, (see vol. I. p. 638.) That
soul with which the Logos had condescended
to enter into union, they supposed to be ex-
alted above all other created beings. to be
the πρῶτον among the κτιστοῖς. Their op-
ponents accused them of placing this soul,
by their apotheosis, ona level with the three
persons of the Trinity, and of introducing a
τέτρας in place of ἃ tpiac. The others, on
the contrary, gave prominence to the Origen-
istic doctrine concerning an original equal-
ity, with only a numerical difference. of all
created intelligences; and they looked upon
it as the final end, that all should be once
more restored back to that original unity ;
and hence they said, that as originally the
souls which, by reason of their ‘loyalty of
will, had been received into indissoluble
communion with the Logos, had nothing in
preference over the others, who were intelli-
gences of the same order, so all would ulti-
mately attain to the same unity. Hence
they were accused of placing themselves on
a level with Christ. Against this last tenet
the thirteenth among the canons against the
Origenistic doctrines is directed.
4 See Harduin. Concil. IIL f. 198
704. ORIGIN OF SECTS.
sions, to be driven by circumstances to the denial of their own expressed
convictions. Yet the course of proceeding at this council, and the
silence of other important documents of the same period, stand opposed
to the supposition, that the council in question had any particular action
on the subject of renewing the sentence of condemnation against Origen.}
The confounding together of the synod held under Mennas with the
fifth ecumenical council, which undeniably took place at an early
period, as well as the wish to have a solemn condemnation of Origen
from some general council, occasioned and promoted this transfer ; and
in case Origen was really mentioned, though but cursorily, along with
the older heretics, by the fifth general council, this would furnish a
convenient foot-hold for the above supposition. But, at the same time,
it is not impossible that the name of Origen itself was but a later
insertion. Along with Origen, the council im question is in fact said
to have pronounced sentence of condemnation also on Didymus and
Evagrius, (see above, p. 679;) and in the age of Justinian, it might
indeed very easily happen, that the anathema should be pronounced
on names hitherto never mentioned by the majority but with reverence
and respect. But the credibility of this account depends on the credi-
bility of another, namely — that the council in question was occupied
particularly with Origen. At all events, it had great influence in
bringing about the later more general practice of treating Origen as
a heretic, that a decree of this sort was ascribed to an ecumenical
council.
APPENDIX TO THIS SECTION.
History of Sects.
WE shall conclude the history of this period with some account of
the minor sects which presented themselves in conflict with the dominant
church, without having arisen, like those which have been mentioned,
out of the doctrinal controversies. They were partly sects which
sprung up afresh out of germs existing already in the previous periods,
and partly such as arose for the first time out of the peculiar state of
the church in the present period.
Such phenomena of the Christian life are often very significant symp-
toms of disease in the life of the church: they betoken deeper wants
of the Christian consciousness, which are seeking after their satisfaction.
Opposite errors, or tendencies bordering on error, by which they are
called forth, lend them a partial justification. As reactions of the
Christian consciousness, although they may be in many ways disturbed
reactions, they point to a purer reaction reserved for the future, which
shall some time or other push its way victoriously through.
We have already remarked, that worldly-minded bishops and ecclesi-
astics, instead of endeavoring to cherish and promote serious, vital
Christianity, did every thing in their power to suppress it, because it
presented such a strong and to them vexatious contrast to their own
1 Comp. Walch Geschichte der Ketzereien und Spaltungen, B. 8, S. 286, u. ἃ. f
THE AUDIANS. 705
mode of life. (See above, p. 226.) Serious and piously disposed lay-
men were persecuted by such clergymen, as dangerous censors of
their conduct.1 Often they were excommunicated from the church,
‘or they separated of their own accord from such spiritual guides, be-
cause they could not believe it possible that men so polluted with every
vice, should serve as instruments for the work of the Holy Spirit.?
Others of like persuasion joined with them; and they became the
founders of minor sects, in which, after the separation had once taken
place, there arose, out of the opposition that had reference at first only
to matters of practice, certain doctrinal differences also, which some-
times had no other ground than in the more sensuous mode of appre-
hension among uneducated laymen.
In this way arose the sect of the Audians.? Audius, or, as the name
stood in his native Syrian, Udo,* was a layman, of a pious and austere
life, who lived in Mesopotamia, near the beginning of the fourth cen-
tury. He often objected to the worldly-minded ecclesiastics of this
country their want of spirituality, particularly their devotion to gain, in
seeking to enrich themselves by the practice of usury, and their gross
immorality.? As his own strict and exemplary life probably gave him
great influence among the laity, his reprimands of the clergy would be
so much the more dangerous. He was persecuted by them, and at
length excommunicated from the church. Others, who were dissatisfied
with the corrupt clergy, now joined with him, and they held separate
meetings for common edification. The clergy then had recourse to the
secular power, and Audius with his adherents were obliged to suffer
many wrongs. ‘This only roused them to more decided opposition to
the dominant church, and the spread of the sect was promoted. Many
discontented spirits united with Audius, and among these some bishops
and ecclesiastics. He himself was now ordained as a bishop in his own
sect, and all the others placed themselves in subordination to him.
They refused to have spiritual fellowship with any that belonged to the
dominant church. They even declined uniting with them in prayer.
The antagonism which now existed between the Audians and the
dominant church led their opponents as well as themselves to be more
attentive to certain differences of opinion, and to lay greater stress upon
those differences. Thus, to their opponents, the anthropomorphic mode
of conception among the Audians, which, from the earlier times, still
lingered in these districts among the more uncultivated, appeared an
important heresy; and many of their peculiar opinions, respecting
which we have no exact information, may in like manner have had
1 Comp. also Isidor. 1. V.ep.131. Avr- the blind heresy-hunting zeal. He judges
τῶσι οἱ κυνῶν καὶ χοίρων βίον ἔχοντες κατὰ
τῶν ἀποστολικῶν τὸν βιόν.
2 That doubts had arisen, whether ecclesi-
astics, known to be vicious men, could ad-
minister the sacraments in a valid manner,
is apparent from |. I. ep. 37; 1. III. ep. 340.
8 The most credible and distinct accounts
of the origin and character of this sect is
given by Epiphanius, since he appears here
to have been less infected than others with
more mildly of this sect, partly because,
owing to his whole bent of mind, he might
not be inclined to attribute so much impor-
tance to the errors of sensuous anthropo-
morphism, partly because he was disposed
to place a high value on ascetic austerities.
+See Ephraém. Syr. Sermon. 24 ady,
Heres. T. IT. ed. Quirin. f. 493.
5 Comp. Theodoret. ἢ, e. 1. IV. ¢. 9.
706 THE RHETORIANS.
their ground in a deficiency of mental cultivation.! Furthermore, the
Audians returned back to the ancient usage with regard to the deter-
mination of the time of the Easter festival, which had been discarded
by the council of Nice, (see page 802 ;) and they accused this council
of having otherwise. settled the time of the Easter festival, out of:
flattery to the Emperor Constantine, and so as to make it coincide
with the day of his birth.
Audius, when now quite advanced in years, was banished to the
country on the Black sea, (Scythia,) where the Goths had at that time
established themselves. He found followers among the Christians of
this race, and he labored also to convert the pagan Goths. The mon-
astic life gained entrance among them by means of the Audians, who
encouraged a rigidly ascetic tendency. This sect, which had not within
it the basis of any long duration, and which had attained to a distinct
subsistence only by means of the persecution waged against it, grad-
ually disappeared towards the close of the fourth century.
As one extreme is ever wont to call forth another, so, as a matter of
course, the one-sided doctrinal tendency, which placed the essence of
Christianity in distinctions of the understanding, called forth the oppo-
site extreme of a one-sided ethical tendency, which overlooked the
connection between theory and practice and the importance and sig-
nificancy of the doctrines of faith in their bearing on Christian life.
While, through the strife of opposite systems of doctrine, many, after
having abandoned themselves sometimes to this system and sometimes
to that, became at last skeptical or perplexed with regard to Christian
truth itself;2 others, on the contrary, were by the same means led to
believe that matters of doctrine generally were of no great importance,
since in fact the attaining to any certainty on matters of this sort
transcended the powers of human knowledge; that every thing de-
pended on conduct, and all who led a good’ life might be saved,
notwithstanding their differences of opinion in other respects. At
Alexandria, where the speculative spirit on matters of doctrine chiefly
prevailed, such an opposite tendency would also be most likely to
spring up.? A certain Rhetorius, in the fourth century, is said to have
created a party which professed this principle, and who were known
afterwards under the name of knowledge-haters, (γνωσίμαχοι.)} But
1Jt is uncertain what truth lies at the
bottom of the charge laid against them,
(Theodoret. hist. eccles. IV. 9, and heeret.
fab. 1V. 10,) that they had asserted God was
not the creator of fire and darkness, or that,
in short, both were eternal. We are here
reminded, indeed, of the view of the Jewish
Theosophy, which is to be found in the
Clementines, that fire is the element of the
Evil One. Such views might easily have
passed over to the Audians.
2 See Gregor. Nazianz. Orat. I. f. 18:
Πρὸς πάντα λόγον ὡμοίως δυσχεραίνουσι.
ὃ Thus Alexander of Lycopolis in Egypt
opposes to the dogmatizing of the heretics,
the principle that the essence of Christianity,
inasmuch as it is designed for the training
of the people as well as others, consists in a
popular system of ethics. (παραγγέλματα
παχύτερα.) See the introduction to his
tract against the Manichzans in Combefis.
bibliothecze Greecorum patrum auctarium
novissimum. Pars II.
# Athanasius mentions first (1. I. contra
Apollinarem, § 6) a certain Rhetorius, (‘P7-
Toptoc,) whom he seems to accuse of the
“ocodless” assertion, that all heretics were
right according to their way. Next Philas-
ter (Heres. §91) has a special section re-
lating to the Rhetorians: Alii sunt in
/£gypio et Alexandria a Rhetorio quodam,
qui omnes laudabat hereses, dicens omnes
EUPHEMITES.
HYPSISTARIANS. 707
MANICHAANS.
it may be a question, whether there was ever a regularly consti-
tuted sect professing such indifference to doctrines; whether the fact
ever amounted to any thing more than this, that individuals at different
times and in different places were led by the same opposition and the
same tendency of mind to entertain these views ;— of which individ-
uals, the above mentioned Rhetorius may have been one.1
The sects which arose from the intermingling of Oriental theosophy
with the opinions of certain sects of Christian origin, the Gnostic, and
particularly the Manichzean, which in the last times of the preceding
period began to spread mightily in the Roman empire, continued to
propagate themselves also in the present period; and they were prob-
ably invigorated by coming into fresh contact with the remains of old
Oriental systems of religion on the borders of the Asiatic provinces of
the Roman empire, and also from Persia, the native country of Mani-
chzeism, where the relationship of its doctrines with those of the
dominant religion must have furthered its spread, until about the year
Bude)
525, when its great influence even
and bloody persecution against it.?
The law of Diocletian, of which
bene sentire. But Philaster gives no fur-
ther explanation of this opinion, and it is
quite possible that the whole account of
this sect had been only made out of an ob-
scure passage of Athanasius. To Augustin,
p- 72, it appeared incredible —as it would
not fail to appear in case the theory was not
any move distinctly set forth—that this
person should have taught things so absurd.
The theory is more distinctly set forth by
the author of the Pradestinatus, ἢ. 72, to
wit, as follows: All worship God as well as
they are able; we are bound to maintain
Christian fellowship with all who call upon
Christ as him who was born of the Virgin.
Doubtless it may be, that this author had
really heard of people who thought thus,
and perhaps, without sufficient reason, called
them Rhetorians, tracing their origin, with-
out cause, to the Rhetorius, of whom he
knew nothing except from Philaster. Those
people of whom the Preedestinatus speaks,
might have in their minds the passage in
Philip. 1: 18. Chysostom, in a special
discourse, (T. III. opp. f. 300.) endeavors to
guard this passage against any such appli-
cation ; but Chrysostom is here controvert-
ing not those who seriously maintained a
doctrinal indifference of this sort, but those
heretics, to whom their own peculiar scheme
of faith seemed sufficiently important, and
who were only desirous of establishing this
principle for the catholic Christians, in order
that they might assert their own claims to
Christian toleration. Theodoret, on the
other hand, where, in expounding this pas-
sage, he says: Τοῦτο τινὲς τῶν ἀνοήτων καὶ
περὶ τῶν αἱρέσεων ὑπειλήφασιν εἰρῆσϑαι, may
actually have had in his mind such a class
of indi ffcrentists. Finally, John of Damas-
in the royal family excited a violent
we spoke on a former occasion,
cus (hzres. 88) mentions the γνωσίμαχοι.
Oi πάσῃ γνώσει τοῦ χριστιανισμοῦ ἀντιπίπ-
TovTec, ἐν τῷ λέγειν αὐτοὺς, ὅτι περισσόν τι
ποιοῦσιν οἱ γνώσεις τινὰς ἐκζητοῦντες ἐν ταῖς
ϑείαις γραφαῖς" οὐδὲν γὰρ ἄλλο ζητεῖ ὁ ϑεὸς
παρὰ χριστιανοῦ, εἰ μὴ πράξεις καλάς.
1 Here would be the proper place to men-
tion certain other minor sects little known
to us, which seem to have sprung out of a
religious eclecticism, if they did not belong
rather to the general history of religion
than to the history of christian sects. The
Euphemites,so called after the hymns ad-
dressed to the supreme God, the Almighty,
(whom alone they worshipped,) which they
chaunted together in their prayers, —a sect
which seems to have arisen out of that
spritualized, refined polytheism, which was
connected with the recognition of one abso-
lute essence; the Hypsistarians, (the wor-
shippers of the ϑεὸς ὕψιστος.) perhaps iden-
tical with the former, or perhaps differing
from them by the mixing in of Jewish with
pagan elements, known to us through the
father of Gregory Nazianzen, who was at
first a member of this sect, (comp. the wri-
tings of Bohmerand Ullmann on this sect ;)
the OcoceBetc in Phoenicia, who either sprung
likewise out of that later eclecticism, or
were the offshoot of a still older form of
religion, which subordinated Sabism to
Monotheism; the Calicole, predominantly
of Jewish origin, originating perhaps from
the proselytes of the gate. The rite of
baptism among this last mentioned sect
may not have been the Christian ordinance,
but may have sprung out of the Jewish
baptism of the proselytes.
See Theophanes Chronograph. and Ce-
dren. ad. h. a.
708 MANICHAANS.
(vol. I. p. 506) would certainly tend to injure them. But when
Constantine was endeavoring to put an end to the religious persecutions
generally, which had arisen under Diocletian, and to introduce a univer-
sal religious toleration, he was naturally desirous of obtaining more ex-
act information with regard to the character of the different and less
known religious sects, and particularly of the Manicheeans, respecting
whom so many unfavorable reports were in circulation, in order to de-
termine by the result of his inquiries what course of conduct he ought
to pursue. He committed this investigation to an individual named
Strategius, who, by his equal familiarity with the Latin and the Greek
tongues, was admirably well fitted for such a business—the same who
afterwards, under the name of Musonianus, rose to the dignity of a
preetorian Prefect of the East.!. The accounts which Constantine
obtained in this way, were probably favorable to the Manicheans:
and he found nothing in their tenets to hinder him from extending
his toleration to the Manichzean sect. But as the principles of tol-
eration by which he was guided at first, gradually passed over to
those of an opposite kind, the Manichzans, who were specially hated,
became once more objects of persecution, even before any new laws
had been enacted against them. ‘The rhetorician Libanius interceded
with the governor of Palestine in behalf of the Manichzeans in that
province, praying him to grant them security, and not suffer every
man to insult them at pleasure. Without designating them by name,
he yet sufficiently indicates whom he means, by mentioning them as
those who worshipped the Sun, as the second divine being,’ without
offerings, (since, according to the Manichzean idea, that one and the
same soul is fettéred in all animate bodies, such offerings could not
properly be made;) and who led a rigidly abstemious life, and
counted death a gain.2 He says of them, they arey scattered
over many countries of the earth, but are every where few in
numbers; that they injured nobody, but were themselves obliged to
suffer injuries from many.* After the year 872, new laws appeared
against the Manichzans, which grew more and more severe. Like
other heretics they were deprived of their civil rights, and their as-
semblies were forbidden under severe penalties.
At Rome they had secretly propagated their sect down from more
ancient times ; and, moreover, they had congregated there in greater
numbers, after being driven away from North Africa and other coun-
‘ tries by the inroads of migratory tribes.° And here they sought to
find admission into the church, but that very vigilant bishop, Leo the
Great, with the aid of the civil magistracy, entered upon a rigid sys-
tem of inquiry to find them out. He succeeded in discovering many
even of their presiding officers.6 By means of these he ascertained the
1 See Ammian. Marcellin. hist.1. 15, c. 13. * See ep. 1344.
2The Sun, in fact the manifesting, re- 5 Leo Sermo 15. Quos aliarum regionum
deeming spirit of light, who is the medium _ perturbatio nobis intulit crebriores.
of connection between the visible world and ὁ Leo appeals before his own flock to the
the supreme God. See vol. I. p. 493. fact (p. 15,) that the practice of dissolute
3 Jt being a release of the soul of light conduct in their meetings had been abso-
from the bonds of the ὕλη. lutely proved by the confessions of Mani
ΜΑΝΙΟΘΗΖΑΝΞ. 709
x
names of the other presiding officers of a sect every where dispersed
and still closely connected in its dispersion ; and he could now make
use of this discovery for the purpose of assisting, by his correspon-
dence with foreign bishops, in the detection of the Manichseans in
“every place. Leo made it strictly incumbent on the members of his
own community to inform him where Manichzans dwelt, where they
taught, whom they visited, in what society they were wont to reside.?
Those of the arrested Manichzans who would not consent to recant,
were banished, and there appeared a new, severer law of the emperor
Valentinian III. against this sect. Under the emperor Justinian,
death was the established punishment for being a Manichzean.
Though a part of the Manichzans had at an earlier period been
driven away by the political storms from the districts of North
Africa, yet many still remained behind in this quarter of the world,
which, from the fourth century, constituted the principal seat of
Manichzeanism ; and the ignorance of the Vandal ecclesiastics made it
easy for the Manichzeans to gain proselytes among them. King
Hunerich, who acceded to the government in 477, sought to display
his zeal for the orthodox faith by persecuting them, and his anger
was especially aroused at finding among them so many of the Vandal,
Arian clergy. Some of the Manichzans he caused to die at the
stake: others he shipped away out of the country. In this way,
again, many of them probably came into Europe, and these trans-
mitted the doctrines of the sect, amidst the disturbances of these
times, down to later generations.
The repeated persecutions prove how little could be effected by
them. They rather served to promote the spread of the sect. The
Manicheans gloried in martyrdom for the truth. Their presiding
officers, the elect, compared themselves, persecuted, poor, and living in
the most rigid abstinence, with the clergy of the catholic church, who
lived an easy life in the abundance of earthly comforts; and they
asserted that they might thus be known as the genuine disciples of
Christ. Being rigid ascetics, they might, too, often conceal them-
chzeans themselves; and, moreover, the law
against the Manichssans enacted, in conse-
quence of this investigation into the char-
acter of the sect, by Valentinian IIL., is
evidence of the same thing. We are not
warranted, it is true, to declare these charges
directly to be false. In individual cases of
excrescence, this combination of mysticism
with dissoluteness of conduct may have ex-
isted, although altogether foreign from the
original character of Manichzism. In an
old form of condemnation against sects of
this kind, which Muratori has published in
his anecdota from the Ambrosian library, T.
II. Mediolan. 1698, p. 212, a trace of the
doctrine is certainly to be found, that the
principle of several of the older Gnostic
sects, according to which every thing that
relates to the body which sprung from the
evil principle, is a matter of utter indiffer-
ence to the soul, and that the former, there-
VOL. IL. 60
fore, might be given up, without injury to
the soul, to every species of lust, was
brought into vogue again by later sects. L
c.: Si quis peccatum carnis non dicit perti-
nere ad animam, anathema sit. Still we
have not sufficient knowledge respecting
the manner in which these investigations
were conducted, to enable us to decide
whether the result of them is deserving of
confidence.
1 See the’chronicle of Prosper ad a. 443.
2 See Sermo 15, 6. 5.
8 See Victor Vitensis hist. persecut. Van
dal. 1. II. init.
* So says the Manichean Faustus, com-
paring himself with the catholic clergy:
Vides pauperem, vides mitem, vides pacifi-
cum, puro corde, lugentem, esurientem, siti-
entem, persecutiones et odia sustinentem
propter justitiam, et dubitas, utrum accipiam
evangelium? August. c. Faustum, |. V.c.L
.᾿
710 PRISCILLIANISTS.
selves under the mask of monasticism. and indeed procure for them-
selves respect, while their heretical tendency remained undiscovered.1
They might jom in the divine service of the catholic churches, since
there was no other means of detecting them except by their scrupling,
on account of their ascetic principles, to partake of the consecrated
wine. Many among them might adopt the current church termino-
logy, giving it another and a mystical sense, after the manner of
Agapius,? who demonstrated his orthodoxy even in an encounter with
Eunomius. Faustus of Mileve in Numidia? successfully employed his
skillful eloquence and brilliant wit, which was not accompanied, how-
ever, with solid judgment, for the extension of the sect. He, as well
as other Manichzeans, knew how to promote his cause by taking ad-
vantage of the weak spots which the catholic church exposed in its
matters of faith and practice. The mysterious element in the symbols
and doctrines of the Manichzeans ; the promise they held out of a
special solution of difficulties by means of a loftier wisdom, in opposi-
tion to the blind and implicit belief which they censured in the domi-
nant church ; the close fraternization in which they lived with each
other; all this was attractive to a great many. Men eagerly en-
rolled themselves in the class of auditores, longing after the higher mys-
teries in which they were to be initiated as the elect.
Many new combinations of Oriental theosophy with Christianity
were also formed, either proceeding from Manichzism or independent
of it. Thus, for example, a certain Aristocritus wrote a work under
the title of ϑεοσοφία, in which he sought to show that Judaism, Hellen-
ism, and Christianity were but different forms of one and the same
revelation of the Divine, thus taking his stand in opposition to Mani.4
A new offshoot of this theosophic tendency made its appearance in
Spain towards the close of the fourth century, in the sect of the Pris-
cillianists, a sect which professed many tenets closely related to
Manichzanism, but not to such a degree, however, as that their
origin may be traced with certainty to the Manicheans. ‘The first
seed of their doctrines came from a man of Memphis by the name
of Marcus. He travelled to Spain, and is said to have disclosed
his doctrines to Elpidius, a rhetorician, and to his wife Agape.
From them, it is said, these doctrines were communicated to Pris-
cillian, a respectable and wealthy man in Spain, respected for his
pious and austere life, who had perhaps for a long time before already
1 This is apparent from the law of the
year 381. Cod. Theodos. 1. 16, Tit. 5, 1. 7.
Nec se sub simulatione fallacize eorum scili-
cet nominum, quibus plerique, ut cognovi-
mus, probate fidei et propositi castioris dici
ac signari volent, maligna fraude defendant,
cum presertim nonnulli ex his Encratitas,
Apotactitas, Hydroparastatas, vel Sacco-
phoros nominari se volent et varietate nom-
inum diversorum yelut religiosz professionis
officia mentiantur. Many other indications
are to be found of the spread of Manichxism
among the monks. See e. g. Theodoret.
hist. religios. T. IIL p. 1146. Εὐχῖται ἔν
μοναχικῷ προςχῆματι τὰ Μανιχαίων νοσοῦντες.
Isidor. Pelus. I. 52.
2 Concerning his writings, see Phot. cod.
9
ὃ From his work in defence of the Ma-
nichean doctrines against the catholic
church, Augustin has preserved important
fragments in his reply.
4’Apiatoxpitov βίβλος, ἔν ἣ πειρᾶται δεικ-
νῦναι τὸν ᾿Ιουδαϊσμὸν καὶ τὸν “Ελληνισμὸν καὶ
τὸν Χριστιανισμὸν ἔν εἷναι καὶ τὸ αὐτὸ δόγμα
καὶ καϑώπτεται καὶ τοῦ μανέντος. See the
anathemas in Jac. Tollii insignia itinerarii
Italici, p. 142.
PRISCILLIANISTS. 711
busied himself a good deal with matters of this sort.) and by embody-
ing them.in a systematic form and giving them spread, he became the
founder of the sect. The eloquence of Priscillian, and his ascetic
‘austerities, which acquired for him the more respect as contrasted
with the worldly life of many ecclesiastics, procured for him nume- |
rous followers, and among these some bishops, as, for instance, Ins-
tantius and Salvianus. The bishop Hyginus of Cordova first came
out against them, and by him the bishop Idacius of Emerita (Merida)
was instigated to persecute the sect. But, by his rough and vio
lent mode of proceeding, the latter rather promoted the spread of
the sect, and Hyginus himself became afterwards dissatisfied with
the manner in which the Priscillianists were treated, and turned
round to be their protector. Upon this, an important synod assem-
bled at Cvesaraugusta (Saragossa) in the year 880, which pro-
nounced sentence of condemnation on the Priscillianists, and sought
to take measures to prevent the further spread of the sect. They
committed to the bishop Ithacius of Sossuba the business of seeing
that their decrees were put into execution. They could not have
made a worse choice than they did in this man, who was a mere
voluptuary, and utterly destitute of all sense for spiritual things.”
Excluded from the church, the followers of Priscillian now took
more thorough measures for establishing their party; and they had
the boldness to make Priscillian himself bishop of Avilla. But
Idacius and Ithacius, conformably with their character, sought by
various artifices to make use of the secular power against the Pris-
cillianists, and thus to crush them.? They actually succeeded in
procuring an imperial rescript whereby Priscillian and all his adhe-
rents were condemned to exile. The latter hoped, through the
influence of the two most eminent bishops of the West, to procure a
rescindment of this decision: and the leaders of the sect repaired
to the bishops Damasus of Rome and Ambrose of Milan for the
purpose of vindicating themselves before these prelates ; but in this,
of course, they could not possibly succeed. They succeeded better
in an attempt to bribe, with the money of Priscillian, a civil officer
of rank, Macedonius, the master of offices, (magister officiorum,) and
through his influence it was brought about, that the first rescript
was revoked, and the order given that the churches of which the
Priscillianists had been deprived, should be restored back to them.
Ithacius did not cease persecuting them ; and being complained of
himself as a’ disturber of the peace, he fled to Gaul. Already, it is
said, was he conducted back to Spain, and there arraigned before the
tribunal, when a great political change gave a different turn to the whole
affair. ‘The news came, that Maximus, who had proclaimed himself
Czesar in Britain, would soon arrive at Triers. There Ithacius waited
1 Multa lectione eruditus. Sulpic.Severi impudens, sumptuosus, ventri et σα] pluri-
hist. saer. 1. II. ¢. 46. mum impertiens. }
2 So he is described by Sulpicius Severus, 8 Sulpicius Severus pronounces this pa-
hist. sacr. 1. 11, ec. 50. Nihil pensi, nihil rum sana consilia.
sancti habuisse. Fuit enim audax, loquax,
712 PRISCILLIANISTS. MARTIN OF TOURS.
for him, and on his arrival placed in his hands a formal accusation
against Priscillian and his followers. ‘The new emperor received the
complaint, and perhaps in the outset was only intending to show his
zeal for pure doctrine, since he glories in this, in his letter to the Ro-
man bishop Siricius. He treated the affair as one purely ecclesias-
tical ; — he ordered that all who were suspected of participating in the
spread of these false doctrines, should appear before a synod to be
assembled at Burdelaga (Bordeaux) in the year 384. Instantius and
Priscillian were the first to appear before it. After the former had
been deposed from the episcopal dignity, because what he said in defence
of himself was not found to be satisfactory, Priscillian forestalled the
sentence which he might expect, by appealing to the emperor, by
which infatuated\step he prepared the way for his own destruction.
The bishops, partly from their own weakness, partly out of hostility to
Priscillian, forebore to protest against this proceeding, by which, con-
trary to the existing theory of rights in the Western church, a purely
spiritual offence was brought and tried before a secular tribunal.
Accordingly, all that were complained of, or suspected, were cited
before the emperor’s tribunal. Idacius- and Ithacius appeared as the
accusers; and Ithacius, it is said, was for fixing the suspicion of Priscil-
lianism on all who led a strict and serious Christian life, for which he
had no liking himself, all who were much given to the study of the
Bible, or who often fasted.! A truly pious man, however, who then
resided at Triers, declared very strongly against this wnspiritual mode
of proceeding. It was the bishop Martin of Tours.”
He declared it to be an unheard of thing, that an ecclesiastical mat-
ter should be judged by a secular court on principles of the civil law.
He entreated Maximus to spare the lives of the unfortunate men ; — it
was enough that by the decision of the bishops, they had been de-
clared false teachers, and deprived of their churches. As long as
Martin was present, the trial was actually delayed, and before his
departure, the emperor promised him there should be no shedding of
blood. But when Martin was gone, the emperor, through the influence
of two bishops, Magnus and Rufus, was led to change his mind, being
the more readily disposed to follow the advice of these two bishops, who
recommended severity, because the property of the rich Priscillian and
of his followers excited his cupidity.2 He committed the trial of the
1 The words of Sulpicius Severus: Hic stul-
titiz 60 usque processerat, ut omnes etiam
sanctos viros, quibus aut studium inerat lec-
tionis aut propositum erat certare jejuniis,
tanquam Priscilliani socios aut discipulos in
crimen arcesseret.
2 Although descended from heathen pa-
rents, yet he had already when a child re-
ceived the seeds of Christianity into his
heart. Against his own will he became a
soldier, and showed the evidence of Christian
piety in the military service. ‘Then he be-
came a monk, finally, a bishop. The ven-
eration of his period denominated him a
worker of miracles. See his biography by
Sulpicius Severus, one of his enthusiastic
admirers, who had known him personally,
but losing himself in exaggerations, has
given us too little of the genuinely historical
and characteristic facts relating to his life.
See also the dialogues of Sulpicius.
8 Sulpicius Severus, who would fain ex-
cuse Maximus, says (Dialog. III. c. 9) that
most people at that time suspected the em-
peror of covetousness, si quidem in bona
eorum inhiaverat; and the pagan Pacatus
Drepanius says in his panegyric on the em-
peror Theodosius the Great, c. 29, concern-
ing the cause of Maximus’ inclination in
favor of these bishops, whom he calls no-
PRISCILLIANISTS. MARTIN OF TOURS. 718
cause to a severe judge, the prefect Euodius. Priscillian was con-
demned not only as a false teacher, but also as a violator of the laws.
He was accused of disseminating doctrines, the tendency of which was
-to countenance and encourage unnatural lusts. In the secret assem-
blies of the sect, it was asserted abominations of this kind had actually
taken place. Maximus appealed in his letter to the Roman bishop
Siricius, to the fact, that the crimes of Priscillian had been disclosed by
his own confession. But it is easy to see, that everything depends on
the question how this confession was drawn forth. An admission ex-
torted by the rack, as this most probably was,” wants the force of evi-
dence ; and the very circumstance, that the emperor felt it necessary
to justify his conduct before the Roman bishop, may betray the con-
sciousness of his guilt. '
The result of this judicial process was, that Priscillian and several
of his most important adherents were executed with the sword.’
Others, after the confiscation of their goods, were banished to the island
of Syllina, (Scilly.)
There was one individual, however, of the bishops assembled at Trier,
namely, Theognist, who declared in the most emphatic language, with-
out fear of the emperor’s anger, against this whole proceeding, and he
renounced the fellowship of all those who had taken any part in it.
The voice of this individual by itself, was of little avail; but he was
now to be sustained by a powerful ally. The bishop Martin was on
the point of returning toTriers, for the purpose of imploring the mercy
of the emperor in behalf of numbers who had been engaged or implicated
in the recent political strifes. The bishops, who heard of this, dreaded
his great influence. Moved by their representations, Maximus caused
Martin to be informed before he came into the city, that he could not
be permitted to enter unless he promised to keep peace with the bishops.
Martin answered, he would come with the peace of Christ.
When he arrived at Triers, he attached himself to Theognist ; and
fruitless were all the efforts of Maximus to make him satisfied with the
conduct of the bishops — fruitless all his representations, to bring about
a reconciliation betwixt him and the party of Ithacius. Finally he
dismissed him in anger.
Meantime, the emperor had resolved to send to Spain a military
commission with unlimited powers, for the purpose of continuing the
trials and the punishment of the Priscillianists. Had this purpose been
executed, others doubtless, besides the Priscillianists, whose property
minibus antistites, revera autem satellites
atque carnifices: a quibus tot simul votiva
veniebant avaro divitum bona.
verum etiam fceda dictu, proloqui sine ru-
bore non possumus.
2 Pacatus Drepanius mentions expressly,
1 In this letter, first published by Cardinal
Baronius from the Vatican library, Maxi-
mus says: Ceterum quid adhuc proxime
proditum sit, Manicheeos sceleris admittere,
non aryumentis, neque suspicionibus dubiis
vel incertis, sed ipsorum confessione inter
judicia prolatis, malo quod ex gestis ipsis
tua sanctitas, quam ex nostro ore cognoscat ;
quia hujuscemodi non modo facta: turpia,
VOL. II.
in connection with this investigation, the
gemitus et tormenta miserorum.
3 Among the persons executed was also
the noble and rich widow Euchrotia, of
whom Pacatus Drepanius says, (1. ¢.:) Ex-
probabatur mulieri viduse nimia religio et
diligentius culta divinitas. Quid hoc majus
poterat intendere accusator sacerdos ?
714 PRISCILLIANISTS.
was coveted, or who might be looked upon as belonging to the sect
merely on account of the cast of their countenance or their ascetic dress,}
would have fallen victims to the persecution. Martin, ever since his
first interview with Maximus, had been laboring to persuade him that
he ought not to execute this decree ; but the latter had given only eva-
sive replies. At length Martin heard, all at once, that tribunes, com-
missioned with full powers, had been actually sent to Spain. He
hurried immediately, though it was night, to the palace, and promised
the emperor, that he would admit the bishops to church fellowship, if
the emperor would recall the tribunes; and by this compliance he
rescued, for the time being, several unhappy creatures from ruin.
Though many, influenced by the blind zeal against heretics, and
by the perverse principle of Augustin, (see abqve, p. 212-217,) car-
ried out to the extreme, that it was right to bring back the erring to
the truth and to salvation by the fear of bodily sufferings,? were
induced to approve of those oppressive measures, or at least to wink at
them ; yet influential voices declared against them. When, at a later
period, Ambrose of Milan came to Triers,on business of the young
emperor, Valentinian II., he was not deterred by any fear of the dis-
pleasure of Maximus, from refusing the fellowship of the church to those
bishops who had taken part in those proceedings ;* and he compared
them with the Pharisees, who questioned Christ respecting the punish-
ment which according to the civil laws was due to the woman taken in
adultery. Siricius, bishop of Rome, took the same ground with Am-
brose.® Ithacius was afterwards deposed from his episcopal office, and
the schism lasted for some time between these two parties of bishops,
the party that approved, and those who condemned the proceedings
against the Priscillianists.
For the rest, the death of Priscillian and his friends could not effect
the suppression of the sect ; on the contrary, it served to give it anew
access of enthusiasm.® Priscillian and many of those who had been
executed with him, were adored by the sect as martyrs.
1 Sulpic. Sever. Dialog. 1. IIT. c. 11, cum
quis pallore potius aut veste quam fide hx-
reticus xstimaretur.
2 Leo the Great, taking for granted, in-
publicis judiciis oportuisse, quos adserunt
secunduin leges oportuisse puniri.
5 We must infer this from the VI. canon
of the council of Turin. Harduin. I. ἢ,
deed, that Priscillian set forth doctrines
totally destructive of good morals, says of
this mode of proceeding against heretics,
ep. 15 ad Turribium: Profuit diu ista dis-
trictio ecclesiastics lenitati, que, etsi sacer-
dotali contenta judicio cruentas refugit ul-
tiones, severis tamen Christianorum princi-
pum constitutionibus adjuvatur, dum ad
spiritale nonnunquam recurrunt remedium,
qui timent corporale supplicium.
3 As Ambrose himself relates, ep. 24 ad
Valentinianum: Me abstinere ab iis qui
aliquos, devios licet a fide, ad necem pete-
bat.
4 Ep. 26 ad Jreneum: Quid enim aliud
isti dicunt, quam dicebant Judzi, reos crim-
inum legibus esse publicis puniendos, et
ideo accusari eos etiam a sacerdotibus in
959, where the decisions of Ambrose and of
the bishop of Rome are placed together as
one and the same.
ὁ With what suspicion Christians, and
especially monks, coming from Spain, were
regarded in the beginning of the fifth cen-
tury, (since, in fact, Priscillianism often put
on the garb of Monachism,) from the dread
of the Priscillian heresy, which was there so
widely ditfused, is seen in the instance of
the monk Bacchiarius, who in his tract de
fide, and in his exhortation to a fallen
monk, (ad Januarium de reparatione lapsi,)
discovers, as a teacher of faith and morals,
a moderate and gentle spirit. Driven, per-
haps by the political disturbances, from
Spain, he betook himself to some other dis-
trict of the West, where he might hope to
THEIR DOCTRINES.
715
As to the doctrines of Priscillian, we find, so far as we can gain any
knowledge of them from the meagre accounts of their adversaries,! that
Dualism and the emanation theory were combined together in them —
-elements related to Gnosticism and Manichxism. He supposed a king-
dom of light, which developed itself in manifold gradations, by emana-
tion from the original source, and opposed to this, a kingdom of darkness
or chaos, out of which, as an emanation from it, proceeded the powers
of darkness, at the head of whom stands Satan.?
The souls which
emanated from the divine essence, are sent forth to combat the powers
of darkness ; — they vow in the presence of God to contend with firm-
ness and constancy, and the angels stimulate them with exhortations.
They descend through the seven heavens, perhaps the kingdoms of the
seven star-spirits,® forming the boundary betwixt the kindoms of light
and of darkness, in order to attack this latter; and probably it was
Priscillian’s notion, that from each of these sidereal regions the souls
appropriated and brought along with them a correspondent sidereal
vehicle.*
But now the powers of darkness succced in drawing down the
souls to themselves, and of enchaining them in bodies.® This result, how-
ever, is not a mere accident, but the powers of darkness are destined
thus to subserve the purposes of the divine wisdom in bringing about
the destruction of their own kingdom.
enjoy more tranquility, (whether to Rome,
as we might infer from the account of Gen-
nadius, 6. 24, remains uncertain, as this ac-
count contains several other statements
which are manifestly incorrect.) As it
seems, no one was willing, however, to re-
ceive him in any of the cloisters, and the
bishops also hesitated to grant him the fel-
lowship of the church, because they sus-
pected him, on account of the country he
came from, of heresy. This led him to
draw up in his own defense his confession
of faith, which was first published by Mura-
tori in the second volume of the above-cited
collection of dvexdota from the Ambrosian
library, and again by Galland. bibl. patr. T.
IX. The manner, then, in which he here
« justifies antithetically his orthodoxy, partic-
ularly in respect to the doctrines of the
Trinity, the humanity of Christ, the resur-
rection, the origin of the soul; in respect to
marriage, the ascetic life and the canon of
the sacred scriptures. shows clearly that it
was against thé suspicion of being tainted
with the Priscillian doctrines, so widely dif-
fused in his own country, he had chiefly to
defend himself.
1 Especially the Commonitorium of Oro-
sius to Augustin, (Augustin. heres. 70,) and
the answer of bishop Leo the Great to Tur-
ribius. bishop of Asturica, (Astorga,) in
which he for the most part joins in accept-
ing the report of the latter respecting the
doctrines of this sect, in order to their con-
futation.
The heavenly souls were des-
2 Satanam ex Chao et tenebris emersisse.
Leo ad Turrib. ο. VI.
8 Comp. the doctrine of the Ophites.
4 If we consider, however, that Priscillian
used the Ascensio Igaize, which has come to
our knowledge in the Ethiopic translation,
(ed. Lawrence. Oxon. 1819,) it becomes,
perhaps, more probable that by the seven
heavens he understood seven graduated
classes of the higher world of spirits fol-
lowing one after the other, — seven stages
of the higher world of emanation, accord-
ing to the Cabbalistic theology. It may be
questioned, also, whether the sidereal world,
according to his theory, belongs wholly to
the kingdom of evil, or rather answers to
the Gnostic kingdom of the Demiurge.
5 According to Leo’s representation, 6.
10, Priscillian supposed an earlier guilt pre-
ceding birth; but the representations of
Orosius and of Augustin, which we have
followed, manifestly bear more of the char-
acter of originality, and expressions from a
letter of Priscillian confirm this representa-
tion. If we must suppose that Leo’s expo-
sition must harmonize with that of Augus-
tin, the harmony, in the sense of Priscillian,
might be sought for simply in this, that the
submitting to be overcome by the powers of
darkness was represented as a contraction
of guilt, which Leo was at fault in only not
understanding in the right way,in conform
ity with Priscillian’s train of ideas
110 PRISCILLIANISTS.
tined to destroy the kingdom of darkness in its own seat, and this was
actually brought about by the redemption.!
Over against the twelve sidereal powers, the twelve signs of the Zodiac,
to which man is supposed to be related and subjected by means of his
body, (whose several parts and members Priscillian assigned to the dif-
ferent constellations ‘of the Zodiac, ) he placed the twelve heavenly pow-
ers, represented under the name of the twelve patriarchs, to whom the
souls of men are supposed to be related, and under whose guidance
they stand. Hence man, representing in his soul and body the uni-
verse in miniature, unites in himself the higher and the lower worlds,
heaven and earth.2 By virtue of the inherent dependence of the body, in
which the soul has been imprisoned by the powers of darkness, man con-
tinues to be subject to the influences of the stars, until the soul, which is
related to God, obtains, through its fellowship with that higher world
from which it has sprung, power to deliver itself from those lower in-
fluences. In order to the deliverance of these souls, the Redeemer ap-
peared on earth. It cannot be determined with certainty, what Pris-
cillian thought of the divine and the human natures of Christ. Τὺ is
certain, that he entertained Monarchian notions respecting the relation
of the Son of God to the Trinity, as well as respecting the Trinity gen-
erally. According to his theory of the body, as being the seat and ori-
gin of evil; of birth, as a work of the powers of darkness, he could
not admit the fact of the birth of Christ with a true human body of
earthly stuff. If, then, the testimony of Leo is to be relied on,? that the
Priscillianists attributed the predicate ‘ only begotten”’ to the Saviour
only in the sense that he alone was born of a virgin, yet this certainly
is not to be so understood as if Priscillian had wholly adopted
the church notions respecting the birth of Christ. He might be the
more induced to dwell on the predicate in this sense, if he reckoned
among the extraordinary facts connected with Christ’s birth, his hav-
ing brought with him a body of etherial mould; and thus the being
born denoted, in his case, something entirely different from what it does
in the case of other men. From the antithetic dogmas, however, which
the council of Toledo, in the year 400, opposed to the Priscillianists, it
is evident that the latter represented Christ as one who was incapar
ble of being born, (innascibilis,) and maintained that Christ’s divine
and corporeal nature were one and the same. This seems to involve the
Manichzean form of conception ;— the one divine light-nature exhib-
ited itself to the eye of sense under the semblance merely of an object
of sense. Leosays, moreover, that they could not join with the church
in celebrating the festival of Christmas, because they held the Docetic
notions respecting Christ’s appearance on earth. If Priscillian gave
1 Here we recognize Priscillian’s general
principle, which is to be found also in the
Manichzan system ; arte, non potentia Dei,
agi omnia bona in hoc mundo. The king-
dom of light, by its victorious wisdom,
forces the princes of darkness, on the very
spot where they seem to be insolent and
to conquer, to subserve its purposes and
prepare the way for their own downfall.
2 Priscillian’s words, in a letter, are: Heee
prima sapientia est, in animarum typis divi-
narum virtutum intelligere naturas et cor-
poris dispositionem, in qua obligatum coe-
lum videtur et terra.
8L.c. ο. 1Π.
THEIR DOCTRINES. 717
particular prominence to the suffering of Christ, in accomplishing the
work of redemption, this circumstance would, it is true, seem not quite
consistent with his Docetic views. But the way in which he expresses
himself on this point admits of being explained also, even if we sup-
pose that, like Mani, he attributed to the sufferings of Christ only a
symbolical meaning.! As the twelve signs of the Zodiac have influ-
ence on the birth of the outward man, so the’twelve celestial powers,
opposed to them, influence the new birth, whereby the inner man is to
be restored to fellowship with the divine substance from which it ema-
nated.2, What is affirmed of Christ, that he was born of a woman, but
conceived of the Holy Ghost,’ the Priscillianists applied to all the sons
of the promise. It may be questioned, however, whether they under-
stood this of the birth, so far as man’s inner essence is derived from
God, or of the new birth as contrasted with the natural. The Priscil-
lianists, as may be gathered from what they affirmed concerning the
Patriarchs, acknowledged the authority of the Old Testament. They ap-
propriated it to their purpose by resorting to the allegorical method of
interpretation. But it still might be the case that in so doing, they dis-
tinguished the God of the Old Testament from the God of the Gospel.4
Besides the canonical scriptures of the Old and New Testament, how-
ever, they made use of several apocryphal writings, as for example, the
hymn of thanks sung by Christ on his last visit to the mount of Olives,
Matth. 26: 30, which they said was handed down among the initiated
alone.®
The moral system of the Priscillianists was, as their doctrine con-
cerning the origin of the body required, rigidly ascetic. It enjoined
austerities of all sorts, and, in particular, celibacy. The charges laid
against them of dissolute conduct, are, to say the least, not sufficiently
well authenticated. But it must be owned, that,in common with most
of the theosophic sects who were in the habit of distinguishing an es-
oteric and an exoteric doctrine — they were extremely loose in their
principles of veracity. They affirmed that a falsehood might be al-
lowed for a holy end, — for example, to promote the spread of their own
mysteries; and that it was right to conceal from the multitude, by af-
fecting to agree with them in their fleshly notions, that which they
were as yet incapable of understanding. There was no obligation to
speak out the whole truth, except to the enlightened; that is, to the
members of the sect: and to give some shadow of foundation for
this view respecting the limit to the obligation of truthfulness, they
made use of the passage in Ephes. 4: 25, distorted to their own mean-
ing. ‘Their bishop Dictinnius, who, at the council of Toledo, in the
ut in eam substantiam de qua prodiit, re-
formetur.
8 Leoc.9 Filios promissionis ex muli-
1 Christ by his sufferings —said Priscil-
lian —annulled the bond, Col. 2: 14, by
virtue of which the soul was held impris-
oned in the body by the powers of darkness
and was made sulject to the sidereal influ-
ences.
2 Leo c.13. Duodecim virtutes, que re-
formationem hominis interioris operantur,
eribus quidem natos; sed ex spiritu sancto
conceptos.
4 As is implied in the genuine antithetic
proposition of the council of Toledo.
5 See Augustin. ep. 237 ad Ceretium.
718 PRICILLIANISTS. PIOUS TRAVELS.
year 400, came over to the Catholic church, had written a work, en-
titled “‘ the Scales,”! in which these principles were expounded and
defended. But it is plain, from this very principle of theirs, that
their own sayings respecting the character of the sect and its doc-
trines, as well as the declarations in the recantations of its members
who returned back to the Catholic church, deserve little confidence.
Hence, many Catholic ecclesiastics were of the opinion that, in order
to draw from the Priscillianists a true account of the subject-matter of
their doctrines, it was right to adopt the same method of dissimulation.
But Augustin composed an excellent treatise for the express purpose
of exposing the immorality of this method, and of setting forth the
absolute universality of the obligation to veracity.?
By following out this principle, the Priscillianists found it, of course,
comparatively easy to propagate their sect, in spite of all the persecu-
tions ; and as accessory to this purpose came in also the political agi-
tations, occasioned by the migration of wandering tribes over Spain,
amidst which movements the oversight of the church could not be so
constantly and strictly maintained. The council of Braga, in the year
563, found it necessary to enact new laws with a view to the detection
and suppression of the Priscillianists ; and from this circumstance, we
see how long they were enabled to maintain themselves, and how easily?
they might scatter the seeds of their doctrines far down into the
succeeding periods.
Although these later influences of the old Oriental sects, in their re-
lation to the development of this particular period, may appear unim-
portant, yet they were propagated to the following centuries, and proved
an important means in the hand of God, whereby a lively opposition
was first aroused to the adulteration of the gospel by the intrusion of
human dogmas, and to the slavery of the spirit which thence resulted ;
and whereby the laity was brought back to a consciousness of the rights
pertaining to the universal priestly office of Christians at large, and
to the pure well-spring of the truth in the divine word.
1 Libra. 8 Concilium Bracarense I.
2 His work de mendacio ad Consentium.
END OF VOL. II.
NOTES AND ADDITIONAL REMARKS FROM THE SECOND EDITION.
Page 5. A few scattered hints.| As Constantine had ever risen to
greater power in his contests with princes who were zealously engaged in
the defence of Paganism ; as his political importance had regularly increased
in proportion as his declarations became more decided in favor of the Chris-
tian religion, there seem to be some grounds for the assertion, that it was
not a religious, but a purely political interest, which first induced him to
espouse the cause of Christianity, though he might afterwards have really
felt the religious interest, which in the beginning he did but outwardly
assume ; since religion, and above all Christianity, is possessed of a power
to master and govern the soul of the individual whose intention at first is
simply to use it in subserviency to his own ends. And examples to illustrate
this statement are certainly not wanting in the period before us. Or even
if we’ suppose Constantine had no set purpose and design of thus using
Christianity, yet owing to his connection with the times, he might, under
the sure guidance of a certain instinctive feeling, be led to perceive that
Paganism had now lost its power in the life of the people, while Christianity
had attracted the whole of that power to itself. Or it might be said, that
without being conscious on his own part of any particular religious interest,
he was gradually drawn into the current which the times themselves had
set in motion. It might be asserted, with Gibbon, that some portion of the
religious enthusiasm which attached itself to Constantine, and to which he
yielded in the first place merely for the sake of compassing his own ends,
finally got possession of his feelings, and became with him a matter of
personal conviction.t. But though in all this, and particularly in what was
last stated, there may be some truth at bottom, still there is no good reason
for regarding the conversion of Constantine to Christianity as having been
a mere outward change ; but, on the contrary, we find many grounds for
presuming that religious convictions which had originated in his own mind,
were gradually unfolded in him under various influences from without, and
that he passed by degrees from a certain species of religious eclecticism, to
the sole recognition of Christianity as the true religion ;— by a transition,
for instance, somewhat like that which we might suppose would have taken
place in the case of an Alexander Severus, or a Philip the Arabian, had
either of them lived in the same juncture.
P. 7, indebted for his good fortune to the protection of a god.| Perhaps
to Apollo, or the sun-god, Helios. Julian intimates as much in that mythical
account, (orat. vii. f. 228, ed. Spanheim,) where he represents Jupiter as
saying to Helios, that Constantine, by abandoning the latter— with whom,
therefore, he must be supposed to have previously stood in some special
1Jn an age of religious fervor, the most artful statesmen are observed to feel some
part of the enthusiasm which they inspire-— Gibbon.
720 NOTES AND REMARKS
relation —had been the cause of every evil to himself and to his family.
Ὃς σὲ ἀπολείπων αὐτῷ τε καὶ γένει καὶ παισὶν αἰτίος ἐγένετο τῶν τηλικούτων
παθημάτων. In confirmation of this, we find the god of the sun repre-
sented on coins as the patron god of Constantine. See those with the
inscription: “ Soli invicto comiti.” Eckhel doctrina nummorum veterum.
Vol. viii. p. 75.
P. 14, secure to us through all time.] It is evident, then, that by restor-
ing back to the Christian churches the property of which they had been
deprived, he believed himself doing what would be well-pleasing to God.
P. 35. ‘Addition to note 2.| The mad assaults of the Bishop Georgius
on the temples, his influence over the emperor Constantius, and through
him over all the civil and military authorities, are also noticed by Julian in
his letter to the people of Alexandria: Τὸν Κωνστάντιον ἐρεῖτε ὅτι καθ᾽
ὑμῶν παρώξυνεν, εἶτα εἰσήγαγεν εἰς THY ἱερὼν πόλιν στρατόπεδον, καὶ κατέλα-
Bev ὁ στρατηγὸς τῆς Avyimtov τὸ ἁγιώτατον τοῦ ϑεοῦ τέμενος, ἀποσυλήσας
ἐκεῖθεν εἰκόνας καὶ ἀναθήματα καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς κόσμον: ὑμῶν δ᾽ ἀγανακ-
τούντων εἰχότως, καὶ πειρωμένων ἀμύνειν τῷ ϑεῷ, μᾶλλον δὲ τοῖς τοῦ ϑεοῦ
κτήμασιν, ὅδε ἐτόλμησεν ὑμῖν ἐπιπέμψαι τοὺς ὁπλίτας ἀδίκως καὶ παρανόμως
καὶ ἀσέβως- ἴσως Γεώργιον μᾶλλον ἢ τὸν Κωνστάντιον δεδοικὼς, ἑαυτὸν
παρεφύλαττεν, εἰ μετρώτερον ὑμῖν καὶ πολικώτερον, ἀλλὰ μὴ τυραννικώξερον
ποῤόωθεν προσεφέρετο. See ep. 10, Juliani epistole, ed. Heyler. Mogun-
tiz, 1828, p. 14.
P. 36, a direction hostile to Christianity.| Athens, then the most. flour-
ishing school for the study of ancient literature, was also a central spot for
the secret dissemination of Paganism. The Pagan and Christian youth
here formed two opposite parties. Gregory of Nazianz, in the funeral
discourse upon his friend Basil of Cesarea, describes how by the influence
of a Christian education they were kept safe from the contagious spirit of
the place while studying together at Athens ; and how all the pains taken
to recommend Paganism served but to confirm them in their faith. And in
this connection, he remarks : Βλαβερὰ τοῖς ἄλλοις θῆναι τὰ εἰς ψυχὴν τοῖς
εὐσεβεστέροις. Καὶ γὰρ πλοῦτον τὰ εἰδωλα μᾶλλον τῆς ἄλλης Ελλάδος, καὶ
χαλεπὸν μὴ συναρπασθῆναι τοῖς τούτων ἐπαινέταις καὶ συνηγόροις. Orat. xx.
ed. Lips., 1690, f. 331.
P. 40, the destined instrument to achieve it.| True, the political interest
could not, in this case, have had any influence in modifying the religious.
The former, under the existing relations of the parties to each other, would
much rather have determined Julian to exhibit a great show of zeal for the
church orthodoxy. His being connected with the oppressed, and on the
whole, feeble Pagan party could not prove otherwise than injurious to his
political interests. But there can be no doubt that, in his own case, as in
that of Constantine, the political motives came to be united with religious
ones; but in the opposite order. The political interest was in his case
stimulated by the religious. As Constantine, with whom the political inter-
est predominated at first, was from this led to the conviction, that he was
destined by God to make his worship the prevailing one in the Roman em-
pire, so Julian, with whom the interest for the fundamental principle of the
old world gradually became the predominant one, finally convinced himself
that he was destined and called by the gods to restore their ancient domi-
nion.
P. 40, to entrap a youth like Julian.| The Platonic school was then
divided into two parties. The first consisted of those who, true to the spirit
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 721
of Plotinus, despised magic as something belonging to an inferior stage of
the spiritual life, where that life was still under bondage to the sidereal
world, still held fast under the dominion of nature ; and considered it as
alone worthy of the philosopher to consecrate his life, in contemplation, to
the purely spiritual and godlike objects which are exalted above all reach
of the powers of the sidereal world, those powers which are under the
control of the magic art, (the Goéteia.) The other party consisted of such
as did not disdain to intermeddle with magic and divination, and who en-
deavored by these arts to produce an impression on men’s minds, so as to
gain proselytes for the ancient religion. Maximus belonged to this latter
party, and the young Julian was peculiarly susceptible to such impressions.
P. 41, he became the secret hope of the whole Pagan party.| In like
manner, the hopes of the Christian party were fixed on the young men
Basil, afterwards bishop of Czsarea in Cappadocia, and Gregory, after-
wards bishop of Nazianzus, who were then students in the same school.
P. 42. Their influence is diffused down to the earth.| This whole
process of evolution, from the Absolute to the ultimate limit of all existence,
appeared to him to be a necessary one. Creation and redemption, as free
acts of the divine will, were here quite out of the question. Such notions
were to be attributed to the rude anthropomorphism of Judaism and Chris-
tianity ! ᾿
P. 44. The priest was not to read any improper poet.| In the instruction
to a high priest, already cited on page 42, Julian directs that “the best men,
and above all the most devout ? and benevolent, should be selected for such
offices.” Though it was not his principle to pay no regard to differences of
rank and property in religious matters, yet the force of circumstances would
constrain him to overlook such considerations, for it sometimes happened
that zealous Pagans were to be found only in noble ang wealthy families,
and at others, only among the lower ranks. Hence, after stating the quali-
fications above mentioned, as requisite for the sacerdotal office, he adds, —
“No matter whether they be rich or poor. No regard should be had to the
circumstance whether the candidate was of noble rank or otherwise.” Yet
he must have been highly gratified when he could obtain priests from the
better class: for these, in fact, would be the most suitable ministers of a
Paganism spiritualized by the neo-Platonic philosopby, and well qualified to
uphold the former by means of the latter.
P. 45. They were not to engage in any unsuitable occupation.| In his
instruction to a priest, he distinguishes the different positions of the priest
in his life within, and in his life without the temple. He then goes on to
say: “ When the priest returns to the ordinary life of men, he may visit
his friends, and accept invitations to banquets, though not from every body,
but only from the better sort. He may also visit, though not often, the
public places ; confer with the governor of the province ; and by interceding
with the magistrates, assist, so far as it is in his power, those who really
need it. The priestly attire should be different within from what it is
when he is without the temple. Within the temple, it should be rich and
gorgeous ; without, more simple. He should keep away from the fights of
wild beasts in the circus, and from the indecent theatrical shows.” Julian
wished to restore the theatre, as an institution connected with the Pagan
cultus, to its original purity in correspondence with the worship of Bac-
1 Φιλοϑεωτάτος, which therefore means, in his own sense, those, of whom but few were
still remaining, that were greatly distinguished for the zeal in behalf of the ancient
religion.
VOL. Il. 61°
122 NOTES AND REMARKS
chus. But as this was impracticable, he meant at least that the priests
should keep aloof from it. No theatrical singer or dancer, no player of
mimes, no charioteer was to be admitted into the house of a priest. Here,
too, we may perceive a plain imitation of the ecclesiastical laws relative to
the conduct of the clergy. In the same instructions, he requires of candi-
dates for the priestly office, as an evidence of their piety, that they should
succeed in persuading all their relatives to join in the worship of the
gods.
ne, 50, the Jews had confounded their Demiurge with the Supreme deity. ]
.He would also probably ascribe the contradictions and inconsistencies
which he supposed he found in many parts of the Old Testament, to the
literal interpretation of those accounts, which, like the Hellenic myths, had
a more profound, mystical sense. ‘The Jews — said he? — did not agree
with the Christians, but they agreed with the Pagans. They differ from
us only in the exclusive worship of one God. Every thing else, they
have in common with us: temple, sacred groves, altars, lustrations, and a
variety of other observances, wherein we differ but little or not at all.” ®
“If the God proclaimed by Moses — he says, addressing the Jews *— is
the universal framer of the universe, presiding immediately over the world,
then we have the more correct notions of him, who regard him as being
the universal Lord of the Universe, and the others as governors of indi-
vidual nations, and standing under him, as governors under the king, of
whom each has to administer his own particular province; nor do we
make him a rival of the gods that stand under him. But if Moses wor-
ships a particular subordinate God, and attributes to him the government
and direction of all things, then it is better to follow us, and to recognize
the God who is indeed over all, without failing to recognize that other |
being also, and to worship him as a god who has received the rule over
the smallest province, but not as one who is the framer of all.”’*
P. 57, gained over by Pagan teachers to embrace their religion.] Per-
haps he would not have scrupled to take the part of the children against
their parents, where the latter sought to keep away their children from
these schools ; for he says: “ It is not right to try to keep children from the
best ways before they know which direction they should take, nor to lead
them by addressing their fears and against their will to the religion of their
elders,” — which could only be meant to apply to those parents who were
endeavoring to keep their children away from Paganism.
P. 69, free from the constraint of authority.| Themistius also praises
the emperor, as knowing how to distinguish the true from the false use of
sacrifices. He speaks highly of the Jaw which had been enacted against
using sacrifices for the purposes of magic. He praises the emperor for
this, μάλιστα δὲ οἷς οὐκ ἐφίησι μόνον τὴν ἐλευϑερίαν, ἄλλα καὶ τοὺς ϑεσμοὺς
ἐξηγεῖται οὐ φαυλοτέρον Ἐμπεδοκλέους, οὐ μὰ Δία, ἐκείνον τοῦ παλαιοῦ.
(With the latter οὐ the φαυλότερον should be repeated: he is truly not infe-
1 Δεῖγμα δὲ τοῦ φιλυϑέου μὲν, εἰ τοὺς οἰκεί- -
ove ἅπαντας εἰς τὴν περὶ τοὺς ϑεοὺς εὐσέβειαν
εἰσαγάγοι. Opp. f. 305. In this respect,
also, we find similar laws of the church
relative to the choice to spiritual offices ; 6.
g. the law passed subsequently to this time
by the third council of Carthage, c. 18: Ut
episcopi, presbyteri et diaconi non ordinen-
tur, priusquam omnes qui sunt in domo
eorum, Christianos catholicos fecerint.
2 Cyrill. e. Julian. 1. TX. f. 306.
8 Τοῖς ἔϑνεσιν ὁμολογοῦντες ᾿Ιουδαΐους, ἔξω
τοῦ νομίζειν Eva ϑεὸν μόνον" ἐπεὶ τὰ γὲ ἀλλα
Kowa πως ἡμῖν ἐστι, ναοὶ, τεμένη, ϑυσιαστήρια,
ἁγνεῖαι, φυλώγματά τινα, περὶ ὧν ἤ τὸ παράπαν
οὐδαμῶς ἢ μικρὰ διαφερόμεϑα πρὸς ἀλλήλους
Ἐν 6: 1. IV. f. 148.
5Τ, ς. 1. 1V. f. 148.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 723
rior to that ancient Empedocles.) And he says afterwards, the emperor
well understands how fraud and corruption intermingle with everything
good 5 ; — that ὑποδύεται μεγαλοπρέπειαν μαγ γανεία καὶ εὐσέβειαν ἀγυρτεία
καὶ διὰ τοῦτο τάς μὲν προάγει, τὰς δὲ κολύει καὶ ἱερὰ ἀνοίγων ἀποκλείει μαγ-
γανευτήρια καὶ ϑυσίας ἐννόμους ἀφιεὶς οὐ δίδωσιν ἄδειαν τοῖς γοητεύουσιν.
Ed. Dindorf, p. 83.
P. 70, the educated and higher classes.| It was to be attributed in some
degree to the indifference or the selfishness of Christian land-holders, that
Paganism maintained itself for a longer time among the country people.
In some cases, they gave themselves no concern about the religious state
of their peasantry ; they avoided the expense of erecting churches, and of
supporting clergymen capable of giving religious instruction to the people;
and sometimes their covetousness choked the feeling of all higher interests
to such a degree, that they were anxious to let the Pagan temples stand for
the sake of the additional income they derived from the taxes on them.
Thus Zeno, bishop of Verona, says in a sermon, where he is speaking
of the spiritual sacrifices of Christians: “ Ask here, ye Christians, whether
your sacrifices can be well-pleasing to God ; — you who know every clod
of earth, every little stone and plant on the estates around you, but take
no note of the temples everywhere smoking with incense on your own
lands, — you, who, to tell the truth, think yourselves to be acting a very
prudent part in ignoring this matter. The proof is not far off. You
every day go to law, that nobody may deprive you of your income from
the temples.”? And Gaudentius, bishop of Brescia, addresses his flock as
follows: “ Believe ye, that the lukewarm and negligent Christian loves
God ; he who allows idols to be worshipped on his estate, and leaves stand-
ing the temples of idols and altars of devils, to the dishonor of the living
God??? °
P. 83. Whenever discovered, they were called apostates.| The same
thing was done in the case of the Huguenots under the reign of Louis XIV.
P. 83. Life of Proclus, written by his disciple Marinus.| When the
general agreement of all, as against heresies, so also against Paganism, was
adduced in evidence of the side of truth, Proclus, on the other hand, held,
that the agreement only of those gifted with knowledge, possessed the
weight of authority; but the general agreement in the disavowal of the
gods arose from ignorance. “ Nor —said he —can there be any real
agreement among persons so ignorant; for real agreement springs from
man’s reason. As the unreasonable man is not in harmony with himself,
still less can he be in agreement with others.” * The doctrinal oppositions
among Christians might serve to confirm him in this position. To the
Christian idea of the creation, and the Christian doctrine concerning an
approaching final end to be answered by the earthly course of the world,
he opposed eighteen arguments, drawn from the fundamental principles of
a consistent neo-Platonism. Although he did not attack Christianity by
1 Lib. I. Tract. X. ¢. 6: Hic querite, Christi-
ani, sacrificium vestrum an esse possit ac-
ceptum, qui vicinarum possessionnm omnes
glebulas, lapillos et surculos néstis, in pre-
diis autem vestris fumantia undique sola
fana non nostis, que (si vera dicenda sunt)
dissimulando subtiliter custoditis. Probatio
longe non est. Jus templorum ne quis vobis
eripiat, quotidie litigatis. Ed. Ballerin. Au-
gust, 1758, p. 120.
2 Sermo XIII. in veterum Brixis episco-
poram, opp. Brixiz, 1738, f. 319.
8 Ἔν τῷ παρόντι χρονῷ περὶ τοῦ μὴ εἶναι
ϑεοὺς ὀμολογοῦντες οἱ πολλοι δι᾽ ἀνεπιστημοσ-
ὕνην τοῦτο πεπόνϑασι. Πῶς γὰρ͵ τοῖς ἐκτος
ἑαυτοῦ τις ὁμολογήσειεν, divi d¢ πρὸς ἑαυτὸν
στασιαστικῶς διακείμενος ; ἢ καὶ οἱ ἀϑεοι δὴ οὖν
κτλ. οὐκ ἄν ποτὲ ἁρμονίως ἔχοιεν ἀνεπιστῆ-
μονες ὄντες. Commentar. in Platonis Alci-
124 NOTES AND REMARKS
name, yet this polemical work manifestly has reference to the most im-
portant and general points of difference between the neo-Platonic and the
Christian way of thinking — to the opposition between a monoistie doctrine
of necessity and the teleological doctrine of freedom.
For the rest, there can be no doubt that the religious atmosphere of the
period had an influence also on Paganism ; and many things among Chris-
tians and Pagans differed only in their particular shape. While among
the Christians we hear of help bestowed in time of need by the visitation
of martyrs, we find the same thing among the Pagans, in the shape of
visitations of the gods. Restorative dreams and miraculous cures in the
churches of the martyrs, stand side by side with the dreams and cures in
the temples of the gods. Pagan philosophers, no less than Christian de-
votees, won reverence from their party by the rigid austerity of their
lives.
P. 84, the renowned Simplicius.| This noble philosopher, the last cham-
pion of the Hellenic religion, which was now fast approaching to its final
overthrow, and author of the commentary on the Enchiridion of Epictetus,
united to a strong interest in matters of philosophy, a deep and lively
sense of the religious need, which led him to seek communion with an
invisible world. Though the religious element of his philosophy may
betray an unconscious influence of Christianity, yet his entire philosophical
position was one which inclined him more to the Hellenic polytheism than
to Christian theism. But, at the same time, it may be said of him, even
with more propriety than of Julian, that the distorted exhibitions of Chris-
tianity which were presented to him in actual life, contributed in a great
measure to confirm his prejudices against it.
He maintained, that no contradiction was involved in recognizing one
primal essence and original principle of everything that exists, who is in-
capable of any adequate designation, and in worshipping those principles of
being which have flowed from this essence, and in which what was one in
the highest of all, has been unfolded into manifold forms of being. Each
of these higher essences represents the Supreme in its own peculiar way ;
in each of them, man worships the Supreme Being himself, who reveals
himself in them! If Christianity redeems the spirit from the forces of
nature, and bestowing freedom on minds which had been separated by
natural limitations, unites them together through the medium of a divine
life, Simplicius, on the contrary, defended the old principle of nature-re-
ligion against Christianity, together with the limitations which are grounded
therein. “ God — he supposes — is, indeed, everywhere present with all
his divine powers; but as men are separated one from the other by time
and space, and dependent on these conditions of time and space, so too,
under these conditions, they can partake but in a partial degree of the
divine influences. Hence each people has its own peculiar religious insti-
tutions, which have come from the gods themselves; and these holy na-
tional institutions men must observe, in order to draw the divine powers to
themselves, according to these laws ordained by the gods. When divine
biadem. ParsII. Opera ed. Cousin, T, TI.
Paris, 1821, p. 125, 26.
1 He says in defense of Polytheism: Ἐπ
δέ τις δυσχεῥαίνει τῷ αὐτῷ καλεῖν ὀνόματι τάς
τε μερικώς καὶ τὴν ὅλην, πρῶτον μὲν οὐκ εὐλό-
γως δυσχεραΐνει, καὶ πράγματι δοκοῦντος εἶναι
κοινοῦ τοῦ ἀρχικοῦ (since even from the na-
ture of the case the idea of the principle,
from which all being proceeds, is something
in common between the gods and the su-
preme original essence) ἔπειτα τὰς μὲν ἀρχὰς
καλείται τὴν ἀρχὴν ὀρχῶν. The principle:
Τὴν τιμὴν καὶ τὸ σέβας διὰ τῶν μερῶν ἐπὶ τὸ
ὅλον ἀναπέμπεσϑαι χρῆ. See v. 38, ed.
Schweighauser, p. 376.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 725
things are conducted according to the order originally appointed by God,
such an influence of divine illumination is manifested on the appointed
day, as is not to be experienced on other days at all; for then the sick are
healed and many salutary things are foretold. So important a bearing has
difference of times and seasons on union with the gods. The same holds
true also of the right relation of place, of words spoken, of actions per-
formed, and offerings made to the gods.” ἢ
Thus in all these outward regulations, he perceives a higher necessity
in the relation of divine things to earthly, which ought to be held sacred.
“ As man is composed of soul and body — he argues — it is not enough
that we purify the soul by the intellectual knowledge of divine things, and
a life in harmony with nature; we need also those means of purification
which the gods have appointed for the body, the soul’s organ. Let then
the purified soul offer to the gods, through its purified organ, in cleanliest
raiment, the first fruits of the outward gifts which God has bestowed: for
it is befitting that we should present the first fruits to those beings who
have given us all we possess. It betokens our readiness to consecrate
everything to them.” Should it be objected, that God needs not such gifts,
he replies: “ That, indeed, is true ; but neither does he need our good life,
or our correct notions of him. But we have need of these things, as the
means of uniting us with the gods, so that we may receive the deity, as
each of these divine beings is prepared to reflect upon us, according to
his measure, the divine illumination in the same degree in which each one
among us may be found worthy of it.’ He refers to particular instances,
in which, by such holy acts, men had been restored from epilepsy, and in
which hail-storms and inundations had thus been averted.
As Simplicius was very far from holding to an abstract religion of
reason, as he was deeply possessed of the faith in a living relation between
man and the gods, so he received, along with all the rest that was to be
found in the old religious traditions of the Greeks, their oracles and pro-
phecies. In treating the question, how and when men ought to resort for
counsel and direction to prophecies, he lays it down as a principle, that it
should be done only with regard to matters not dependent on the will of
man, and where reason and experience furnish no means of coming to the
truth. It should be done with that equanimity with which the wise man
is wont to contemplate everything which is independent of his own will.
If divinations were resorted to on all questions, the tendency would be to
make men timid and inactive, and ready to attribute great importance to
mere trifles.
Now it was a case of no unfrequent occurrence, for men to seek in reve-
lations from the gods an answer to their queries, with regard to general
religious and philosophical truths, especially in those times of wide-spread
scepticism, and of the deep-felt need of a new revelation, which preceded the
appearance and triumph of Christianity. Hence, Simplicius was led to
ask, whether it was proper to resort to divinations on subjects such as the
question respecting the immortality of the soul. And he decided against
it. In all questions capable of being resolved by rational investigation,
men were bound to confine themselves to this alone. “Τὸ be informed by
some god that the soul is immortal, was no doubt suited to produce firm
faith, but not a scientific conviction. If a man is so favored by the Deity,
as to obtain the knowledge of causes and scientific truth, this is but another
proof of the divine goodness, and does not belong to the province of divina-
ΤΊ, c. p. 352,
VOL. II. > ha
726 NOTES AND REMARKS
tion. If some have consulted the gods respecting the nature of things,
still these have been but few, and not the first among the philosophers —
and such persons have commonly possessed not a scientific conviction, but
a conviction of faith; for it was God’s will that the soul, which is endowed
with the free power OF self-determination, should come ma the knowledge of
the truth by its own. efforts.”
It is evident that Simplicius could not have had any leaning to Chris-
tianity, even according to his own views of the relation of philosophy to
religion. He was looking for something different, in communications from
heaven, from that which was to be given to man by divine revelation ; and
what faith was destined to attain by means of Christianity, he expected to
find in his philosophy.
Though the false notions of religious things which he found prevailing
among a large portion of Christians, contributed much to prejudice him
against a religion which he had not studied and did not understand, yet at the
bottom of it lay, at the same time, the real opposition which existed between
his own fundamental principle and that of Christianity. To his Platonic
apprehension of the idea of God, the biblical doctrine of God’s holiness,
and everything founded on it and connected with it, was utterly foreign.
Thus, for example, all punishment appeared to him to be nothing, other
than a means of reformation and purification. Perhaps he might acknowl-
edge the necessity of various kinds of lustration for fallen man, but the
idea of a redemption, in the Christian sense, of a divine forgiveness of sins,
of a new birth, could find no point of entrance into his way of thinking.
Whenever the need in which human nature stands of redemption and
reconciliation with God, came into question, he must have believed that in
all this there was a confounding of the subjective with the objective point
of view. To him it cowld not appear otherwise. As it is in very truth a
need of man’s soul to be delivered from the breach with God, which has
its foundation in sin, and true repentance on man’s part sufficed for this,
man gave to this thought an objective existence, as if, on the part of God,
some special thing was required for this purpose. That Simplicius must
needs have judged in this way, we may infer from what he says respecting _
the false notions of the Christians of his time.
In inveighing against those who denied a divine Providence, he thinks
it necessary to. attack next what he calls the third species of atheism.?
This he makes to consist in supposing that the Deity i is capable of being
bribed el gifts, (oblations, ) votive offerings, (ἀναθήμασι) and distributions of
money,” (the merit of alms-giving,)® as people now believe ;* where he
evidently alludes to the Christians ;— so that evil-doers, those who have
practised robbery and oppression, if they do but expend a small portion of
their booty in such gifts, and make presents to those who pretend to pray,
and to make prevalent intercession with God in behalf of such persons,
may be allowed to go on in this way, and sin without danger of punish-
ment. “Many now living — he says — even consider it as worthy of the
divine goodness, that sinners should be forgiven — understanding this in a
vague and indeterminate way.” ὅ
Having with slight labor succeeded in overthrowing this sort of super-
stition, he proceeds next, however, to inquire after the fundamental truth,
lying at bottom of the opinion that God was capable of being persuaded
1'O τρίτος τῆς ἀϑείας λόγος. 4 Ὡς οἱ νῦν οἴονται.
2 Κερματίου διαδόσεσιν. 5 See v. 38 p. 392, seq.
8 Παρατρεπεσϑαι.
τ FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 121
by gifts, by good actions, or by prayer. Wherever, he says, there is true
_remorse for sin, these things contribute to promote the man’s conversion to
God, if they are done to preserve the sense of remorse, if the bodily pros-
.tration on the knees corresponds to the humiliation of soul, if the money is
applied to purposes which are well-pleasing in the sight of God. ‘ For —
says he — God, when we sin, does not turn from us; he is not angry; he
does not leave us: nor does he return to us when we repent. All this is
human, and quite alien from the immediate divine blessedness. But we
separate ourselves from God, in departing from that course which is in
harmony with nature ; and in restoring our original nature, we return back
to fellowship with God. And we describe the act of our own return to
God, as if God returned back to us.”? He employs the following compari-
son to illustrate this habit of confounding our subjective feelings with an
objective action. “Just as when a boat is drawn towards the shore by a
rope let down from a rock, and the people in the boat, who are not aware
of what is going on, imagine, that instead of approaching the rock them-
selves, the rock is gradually approaching them. Repentance, prayer, and
everything else which is connected therewith, may be compared with this
rope.” ?
‘Simplicius alludes probably to the persecutions which the few Pagans
in his own time encountered, when he speaks of the tyrannical violence
_ which would force men to atheism.2 These persecutions moved him and
some of his fellow-believers to escape to Persia. (See text.)
P. 85, the requisitions of the original doctrine of Christ.| When he
came to perceive the opposition, then, betwixt primitive Christianity and
the religion of his times, the conviction of this might have resulted in a
tendency to reform, rather than in one hostile to Christianity, had he pos-
sessed a mind open to the reception of its essential doctrines.
P. 87, it was able to purge away all the sins of the soul.| His funda-
mental views of religion were limited and confined by the intuition of
nature. His gods encompassed him with their splendor in the sensible
world. When he looked up to the heavenly orbs, he saw his divinities
beaming down upon him with their light. The regular courses of the
planets, moving after eternal and immutable laws, was to him the symbol
of a world exalted above decay, of a loftier region belonging to the life of
the gods. The fountain of all light to nature, was to him the fountain also
of spiritual light for mankind. Helios was the mediator between the in-
visible and the visible worlds ; between the κόσμος νοητὸς and αἰσθητὸς ;
between ideas and the world of manifestation. He viewed himself as a
soul related to Helios. Recollecting how singularly, when a boy, he had
been attracted by the sunlight, he imagined that he discerned here the
unconscious longing which already, in that time of darkness, was implanted
within and radiated through him, after the god to whom he was related.5
Theism, therefore, would appear to him to be a religion too abstract, too
1 Ταύτην τὴν ἡμῶν ἐπιστροφὴν πρὸς αὐτὸν
ὡς αὐτοῦ πρὸς ἡμὰς λέγομεν.
2 Μεταμέλεται δὲ καὶ ἱκετεῖαι καὶ εὐχαὶ καὶ
τὰ τοιαῦτα ἀναλογοῦσι τῷ κάλῳ. IL. c. p. 398.
3 Τυραννικὰς βίας, μέχρι καὶ τοῦ ἀσεβεῖν
ἀναγκαζούσας. See c. 13, p. 131.
4’Oraddc ϑεοῦ ἡλίου.
5In his discourse in praise of Helios,
Orat. IV. f. 130: ᾿Εντέϑηκέ μοι δεινὸς ἐκ
παίδων τῶν αὐγῶν Tov ϑεοῦ πόϑος καὶ πρὸς τὸ
φῶς οὕτω δὴ τὸ αἰϑέριον ἐκ παιδαρίου κομιδῇ
τὴν διάνοιαν ἐξιστάμην. So nature taught
him, though no book had as yet come into
his hands, from which he could learn the
nature of the gods. Amy dé ἔστω τοῦ σκό-
τους ἐκείνου, says he. I am indeed well
aware, that in Julian a great deal is mere
rhetorical sound; but I do not see why what
he here says might not be psychologically
true.
728 NOTES AND REMARKS
lifeless. And in one view of it, Christianity must have presented itself to
him as such a religion —a religion which repelled the divine element in
man too far off; and in another view of it, as a religion in which it was
brought too near, in which it was too much humanized. He was seeking
for a revelation of the godlike, which should dart its splendor into the
sensible world. He.was destitute of the sense to appreciate the spiritual
majesty of the appearance and life of Christ. The same thing happened
here which is always found to occur, wherever the secret feelings of man’s
heart may openly express themselves, that he who does not feel himself
attracted, will of necessity feel repelled by the appearance of Christ.
How poor and despicable appeared to him the person who could style him-
self the light of the world, compared with the ever-enduring, ever-present
revelation of Helios, shining forth to the eyes of all! How insignificant
the person who invites to himself the heavy laden, — who presents himself
in the group of those oppressed with spiritual and bodily distress, in com-
parison with the old mythical and historical heroes, and the conquerors of
the world.. We need but hear how Julian expresses himself on this matter
in his own characteristic language. (See the quotation cited on page 86.)
P. 87, a national character once existing appeared to him incapable of
change.| He could not distinguish here that which is founded in the laws
of creation, in the original character of nations, from that which has sprung
out of the disturbance of the original element by the intrusion of sin ; as,
indeed, he was a stranger to all distinctions between nature, sin, and grace.
Hence, on these grounds, the union of all nations in one kingdom of God,
— in other words, a religion of humanity, — must appear to him nonsense.
“Tn the Father — says he —all is perfect, and all is one; but in separated
existence, some one power or another predominates. Thus Mars leads the
warlike individuals of a people; Minerva, the warlike endued with under-
standing; Mercury, those who possess more cunning than boldness.” In
evidence of this, he alleges the undeniable difference of character which
actually existed, for example, between the Germans, Greeks, and Romans.
To explain this as an accidental thing, would be to deny the existence of a
Providence. The question returned then, what is the cause of it? and
this was to be found in what has just been said. The different codes of
law — he supposes — did not first give its stamp to the national character,
but the diversity of the latter expressed itself in these. The law-givers,
he maintained, had added but little by their guidance to the primitive
natures and characters of the people.2_ He refers for proof to the fact,
that although the influence of the Roman dominion had already endured
for so long a period, yet the western nations had only adopted the lan-
guage, and, at most, something of the rhetoric, but had remained total
strangers to the philosophy and the scientific culture of Rome. On this
ground, the Hellenic culture seemed to him a thing strictly cohering with
the worship of the Hellenic deities, with the Grecian cultus ;— a thing
foreign from Judaism and Christianity. And inasmuch as he made no
separation of the human element from the divine, by which human culture
is to be ennobled in all its branches; as he paid no regard to the circum-
stance, that revelation is only given for the purpose of communicating the
divine life as a principle of refinement for all human. culture, so he charged
it as a reproach upon the sacred writings and upon Christianity, that every
1 Opp. f. 115.
2 "Ox νομοϑέτεις μικρὰ ταῖς φύσεσι καὶ ταῖς ἐπιτηδειότησι διὰ τῆς ἀγωγῆς προσέϑεσαν
δῚ,. ςο. f. 131.
'. FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 129
species of culture could not be communicated by means of them; that they
needed to supply their own defects from some other quarter.
P. 88, to foist in the doctrine of Christ’s divinity.] Contemplating the
relation of the Old and New ‘Testament, the relation of the several writings
of the New ‘lestament, and of the several apostles to one another, with the
eye of an enemy, Julian could no where find any thing but antagonisms,
and must overlook the higher unity, where those who allowed themselves
to be determined in their views by nothing save the immediate practical
and religious interest, saw every where nothing but sameness and uniformity,
and were unconscious of the differences and of the several stadia in the
gradual development of the kingdom of God in history. Thus what was
true and yet not true in the attacks of opponents, might have conducted to
a more profound and liberal investigation of the developing process of
divine truth. He maintains, that when the Christians taught the laws of
the Old ‘Testament were given only for a certain determinate period, they
asserted what stood in direct contradiction with the plain declarations of the
Old Testament, by which these laws were declared to be of eternal validity.
He supposes, moreover, that the Christians departed from the doctrine of
Christ himself; for the latter had expressly disclaimed any wish to annul
the Mosaic ceremonial law. He had commanded that it should be exactly
observed, in the well known passages in the sermon on the Mount. ‘Then
addressing the Christians, Julian says: “ If Christ, therefore, threatened such
punishment to those who transgressed but a single precept, what excuse
will you find, who have trampled upon all the commandments ? ” ?
The apostle Paul, ever since his times, had been a special object of scorn
to those who were incapable of comprehending his lofty, profound, and
many-sided mind; and Julian also can perceive in that freedom of spirit
and wisdom which led Paul to become all things to all men, to speak and
to act ditferently under different circumstances and relations, nothing but
self-contradiction and intentional fraud. He endeavors to show how Paul
contradicts the Old Testament, Christ, and himself,—how he alters his
doctrine concerning God according to circumstances, sometimes asserting
that the Jews alone are God's inheritance; sometimes, to gain the Gentiles,
teaching that God is not the God of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles.
While tie church-teachers sought to bring together proof passages for the
divinity of Christ from the Old and New Testament and all the writings of
the New Testament alike, without distinguishing what had been said im-
plicite and explicite,— different stadia of development ;— Julian, on the
other hand, was for demonstrating that this doctrine was one altogether
foreign from the Old Testament, and that even in the New Testament it
was not an original one, but that John had first contrived to smuggle it in.
He said the worship of the Son, no vestige of which was to be found in the
Old Testament, conflicted with the command given there, forbidding the
worship of all but the one only God. By Moses, one God exalted above
all others was named, whom alone men were bound to worship, and there
was none second to him, neither one which was like him, nor which was
unlike him. Let them but show, he says, a single expression in Moses
ZT. C; 1, Ls £319.
2 Cyril... X..f. 351.
8 Τὸν πάντας πανταχοῦ, τοὺς πώποτε yor-
τας καὶ ἀπατεῶνας ὑπερβαλλόμενον Παῦλον.
Ι,. ὁ. 1. ILI. f. 100.
4 Ἔμω γὰρ οὐδένα ϑέλει προσκυνεῖσϑαι, τοῦ
χάριν τὸν υἱὸν τοῦτον προσκυνεῖτε, καὶ ὃν
ἐκείνον οὐδ᾽ ἡγήσατο πώποτε ὑμεῖς δὲ οὐκ old
ὅϑεν ὑπόβλητον αὐτῷ προοτίϑετε. L.c.1, Ve
ἴ. 159.
δ Allusion to the different doctrinal par-
ties, which had arisen during the controver-
sies of the fourth century.
180 NOTES AND REMARKS
which warranted any belief of this sort. The passage in Deuter. 18: 18,
quoted as a prophecy relating to the Messiah, had no reference to the son
of Mary. But even were such a reference conceded, still Moses asserts
that the promised person should resemble himself, not that he should be
like God: he spoke of a prophet, such as he was; one who should proceed
from among men, not one who should come forth from God. “So ill-fated
are ye —says he to the Christians — that ye do not even stand fast to what
has been taught you by the apostles. Indeed, that doctrine has progres-
sively deteriorated, and has been carried to a worse species of atheism by
your later teachers.’ Neither Paul, nor Matthew,” &c., (see quotation in
text.) Julian intimates that John himself was afraid to call Jesus, in direct
terms, God, and he imagines that he sees a piece of artifice in John’s
passing so gradually, and as it were, imperceptibly from the Logos to the
historical Christ. At first, he says, John spoke only of God and the
Logos, — said that the latter became man and dwelt among us; but was
ashamed to say a word as to the how. He no where made any mention of
Jesus or Christ; and thus insinuating what he would have understood, he
next introduces John the Baptist, and makes him testify that Jesus is the
one on whom men must believe, as the being who is God and Logos.®
Had Julian contemplated the character of the apostles with less prejudice,
he would after having once missed the simplicity of John and become
suspicious of surreptitious dealing and sly deception, instead of charging
this on the apostle, much rather felt obliged to regard this gospel as the
production of some later impostor. But he was very ready to welcome
every opportunity of exhibiting the apostles themselves in this unfavor-
able light.
We have already had occasion to remark that Julian, when he speaks as
an opponent, of the nature of Christianity, was forced, without being aware
of it, to be a witness of those very things which marked its superiority over
every ‘other religious standing ground. Among.the cases of this sort, we
reckon the way in which he couples Judaism with Paganism, and places
both in a common relation over against Christianity; in so far, namely, as
the theistic principle was first freed by Christianity from the constraints of
outward forms, and that particularity of application within which it still
remained confined at the position of Judaism. To the same class belongs
also his remark, that Christianity is on one side akin to Judaism, and on
another to Paganism ;— in the theistic element, opposed to Paganism and
one with Judaism; in combatting the legal ground, and in freedom, though
on a different foundation, one with the Hellenic principle; all which he so
interpreted, indeed, as to make the Christians adopt what was bad and let
go what was good in the two religions. From the Jews, they had taken
nothing but the renunciation of the gods, but they had rejected the severe
discipline of the law and the various kinds of lustration; from the Pagans
they had adopted the free mode of life, but renounced their pious respect
for every thing divine. “Had you adopted,” says he to the Christians,
1 Cyrill. 1. VII. f. 253.
2 Οὕτω δέ tote δυστυχεῖς, ὥστε οὐδὲ τοῖς
ὑπὸ τῶν ἀποστόλων ὑμῖν παραδεδομένοις ἐκ-
μεμενῆκατε, καὶ ταῦτα δὲ ἐπὶ τὸ χεῖρον καὶ
δυσσεβέστερον ὑπὸ τῶν ἐπιγενομένων ἐξειρ-
γάσϑη. L.c.1. Χ, f. 827.
8 Καὶ ὁ λόγος, φησὶ, σώρξ ἐγένετο κτλ,, τὸ δὲ
ὅπως Aeyew αἰσχυνόμενος, οὐδαμοῦ δὲ αὐτὸν
οὔτε ᾿Ιησοῦν οὔτε Χριστὸν ἄχρις τοῦ ϑεὸν καὶ
λόγον᾽ ἀποκαλεῖ. Κλέπτων δὲ ὥσπερ ἠρέμα
καὶ -λάϑρα τὰς ἀκοὰς ἡμῶν͵ ᾿Ιωάννην φησὶ τὸν
Βαπτιστὴν ὑπὲρ Χριστοῦ ᾿Ιησοῦ ταύτην ἐκ-
ϑέσϑαι τὴν μαρτυρίαν, ὅτι ἄρα οὗτος ἐστὶν ὁν
χρὴ πεπιστευκέναι ϑεὸν εἶναι λόγον ΟΥΥ1]].
]. X. f. 327. . Σκοπεῖτε, ὅπως εὐλαβῶς ἠρέμα
καὶ λεληϑότως ἐπεισάγει TH δράματι τὸν te
φῶνα τῆς ἀσεβείας, οὕτω TE ἔστι πανοῦργος
καὶ ἀπατεών. Τ,. ο. f 333.
4 Τὸ εὐλαβὲς πρὸς ἅπασαν τὴν κρείττονα
φύσιν. Cyrill. 1. ΝῊ. f. 238.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION.
731
“the religious doctrine of the Jews, it would indeed have fared worse with
you than if you had remained with us ;—still, you would have met with a
more tolerable lot, since you would have worshipped one God instead of
-seyeral, nor would you have worshipped a man, or rather many unfortunate
men.}
You would have received a harsh and rude law, deformed by many
defects which are peculiar to the barbarians, instead of our mild and philan-
thropic laws—=§in other respects you would have been worse off, but yet
holier and purer.”
So he compares them with leeches, which imbibe all
the impure blood, but leave that which is good.?
The religious system of Julian consisted, as the case usually was with the
later Platonicians, of a mixture of rationalist and supernaturalist elements.
On the one hand, he says, in opposition to supernaturalism, which doubtless
came to his knowledge in some extreme and exaggerated form, —
God spake and it was done, but the commands of God
not enough to say:
must harmonize with the nature of things.
mands must correspond to his eternal being
“Tt is
God being eternal, his com-
; hence they can be no other
than the nature of things themselves, or something that harmonizes with it.
How can nature possibly be opposed to the commands of God, or how be
at discordance with them? ” ®
But still Julian was for looking to the reve-
lations of the gods, for the resolution of questions which he supposed human
reason by itself was incompetent to resolve.
“We here depend on the authority of no man,
the immortality of the soul:
Thus, he says, in asserting
but only of the gods, who alone doubtless have knowledge of this; for on
such matters, it behooves man to express only his conjectures — but the
gods must have certain knowledge.
294
The excellence and authority of the
old religions and their sacred institutions he traced to their ΒαΡΕΧΩΒΉΜΒΗΙ,
divine origin.
novelty in every thing
“T avoid,” said he in writing to an ἀρχιερεὺς > — “I avoid
; but above all in that which uelates to the gods ;
since I am of the opinion, that from the beginning and always, the laws of
one’s country must be observed, because it is plain that the gods have given
them; for if they were given by men, they would not be so beautiful.” ®
While Christianity teaches that, in place of the earlier isolated and frag-
mentary communications of divine powers, the quickening of redeemed
humanity by the divine Spirit has entered in as a permanent thing; Julian,
on the other hand, adhering firmly to the older point of view, supposes only
rare and transcient communications of the spirit which comes from the gods
to have taken place, and that by certain conditions of nature these divine
powers had at length every where been lost.
says he, “appears seldom, and to but few, and not easily .
the gods to men,”
1 The multitude of saints.
2A ἀμφοῖν. τὰς παραπεπηγυΐας τοῖς ἔϑ-
veow ὥσπερ τινὰς κῆρας δρεπόμενοι, τὴν ἀϑεό-
THTA μὲν ἐκ τῆς Ἰουδαϊκῆς Ραδιουργίας, φαῦλον
δὲ καὶ ἐπ τισεσυρμένον βίον ἐκ τῆς παρ᾽ ἡμῖν
ραϑυμίας καὶ χυδαιότητος. Lc. ]. 11. f. 43.
Nov δὲ ὑμῖν συμβέβηκεν ὥσπερ ταῖς βδέλλαις,
τὸ γείριστον ἕλκειν αἷμα ἐπεῖϑεν, ἀφεῖναι δὲ τὸ
καϑαρώτερον. L. ς.1. WI. f. 202.
ὃ Tod ϑεοῦ ὑπάρχοντος ἀϊδίου, καὶ προστάγ-
ματα τοιαῦτα εἶναι προσήκει. Τοιαῦτα δὲ ὄν-
τα, ἥτοι φύσεις εἰσὶ τῶν ὄντων, ἢ τῇ φύσει τῶν
ὄντων ὁμολογουμενα. Πῶς γὰρ ἂν ἡ φύσις τῷ
προστάγματά μάχοιτο τοῦ ϑεοῦ; πῶς δ᾽ ἂν
ἔξω πίπτοι τῆς ὁμολογίας ; Cyril. γι ἢ
148.
4 Πειϑόμεϑα δὲ τῶν μὲν ἀνϑρώπων οὐδενὶ,
“The spirit that comes from
τοῖς ϑεοῖς δὲ μόνον, od¢ δὴ καὶ μάλιστα ταῦτα
εἰκὸς εἰδέναι μόνους, εἴ γε χρὴ καλεῖν εἰκὸς τὸ
ἀναγκαῖον. ὡς τοῖς μὲν ἀνϑρώποις ἁρμόζει
περὶ τῶν τοιούτων εἰκάζειν, ἐπίστασϑαι δὲ
αὐτὰ τοὺς ϑεούς ἀνάγκη. Ep. 68. p. 131.
Yet he knew of nothing else to say to one
who wanted to be consoled for the early
death of his wife, than that he must resign
himself to a necessity inseparable from the
condition of human nature. Ep. 87,
> Ep. 63.
6 Φεύγω τὴν Ka οτομίαν ἐν ἅπασι μὲν, ὡς
ἔπος εἰπεῖν. ἰδίᾳ δὲ ἐν τοῖς πρὸς τοὺς ϑεοὺς,
οἰόμενος χρῆναι ἂν πατρίους ἐξ ἀργ ἧς φυλάτ-
τεσϑαι “νόμους, οὖς ὅτι μὲν. ἔδοσαν οἱ ϑεοὶ, φαν-
epdv, οὐ γὰρ ἦσαν οὕτω καλοὶ, παρὰ ἀνθρώπων
ἁπλῶς γενόμενοι. Ep. 63.
732 NOTES AND REMARKS
can every man, at any time, be a partaker of it. Hence the communication
of the spirit has ceased with the Jews, and even among the Egyptians it
has not been continued down to the present times. The ΕΡΗ͂ΒΙΙΒΕΘΗΘ
oracles themselves seem to give way to the changing periods of time.”
Hence he was of the opinion, that in place of these by- -gone supernatural
communications of -the gods, had come in the continuous intermediation
of the fellowship with them by means of the holy arts; as he says next
after the words before cited: “ Our father Zeus, the lover of mankind, has,
in order that we might not be wholly deprived of the fellowship with the
gods, given us those holy arts, (as for example the auspici, horuspicia,)
@iitivkirnishesisswith-otel: sufficient help for our needs.”? Furthermore,
he looked upon the healing art, coming from the appearance of Esculapius,
as an abiding after-influence of the revelation of the gods, and that this god
every where reveals himself for the cure of diseases, bodily and mental :? —
referring to those incubations to which so many cures were ascribed in
the first centuries after the birth of Christ. He affirms, that Esculapius
had often cured him (Julian himself) by remedies suggested to him in
dreams.4 |
Julian, thus contemplating history with hood-winked eye, could see in
the old Hellenico-Roman religion something indestructibly divine, and
believe that in renouncing it, the Roman world was rapidly passing to bar-
barism and ruin. In Christianity, he could see nought else than a work of
man, which was indebted for its extensive spread to sundry cunning arti-
fices; while the decline of the old religion and manners, for which the
Christians were chargeable, promoted the extension of their faith ;—
ignorance and credulity opening the way for it. Accordingly, in the in-
troduction to his work against Christianity, which he wrote, as he avows,
for the purpose of giving the world an account of the reasons which in-
duced him to renounce Christianity, he observes: “ Christianity is a fig-
ment, put together by the wickedness of men, in which there is no particle
of the godlike, but which has merely taken advantage of human folly, and
the propensity to what is marvellous and wonderful, to procure credence
for its pretensions.”® And so he might suppose that he was himself des-
tined by the gods, by restoring the old religion and suppressing the new,
which had been raised to eminence only by human caprice, to save the
Roman state from ruin.
P. 89, called Philopatris.| Many things are to be found in this dia-
logue, hardly reconcilable with the hypothesis by which it is ascribed to the
. times of Julian. It is easy to see that it sets up Paganism and Chris-
tianity alike, as objects of ridicule. A certain species of deism seems to
lie at the basis of the whole work. But the Pagans of this period were
for the most part zealous adherents of the old doctrine of the gods; and a
1 Τὸ γὰρ ἐκ ϑεῶν εἰς ἀνϑρώπους ἀφικνού-
μενον πνεῦμα, σπανιάκις év καὶ ἐν ὀλίγοις
γίνεται. Καὶ οὔτε πώντα ἄνδρα. τούτου μετασ-
χεῖν ῥάδιον, obte ἐν παντὶ καιρῷ: Τ᾽ αὕτῃ τοι
καὶ τὸ παρ᾽ Ἑβραίοις ἐπέλιπεν, οὐκοῦν οὐδὲ
παρ᾽ Αἰγυπτίοις εἰς τοῦτο σώζεται. Φαίνεται
δὲ καὶ τὰ αὐτοφυῆ χρηστήρια ταῖς τῶν χρόνων
εἴκοντα περιόδοις. Cyrill. 1. VI. f. 198.
2Ὁ δὴ φιλάνϑρωπος ἡμῶν “Ζεὺς, ἐννοῆσας
ὡς ἂν μὴ παντάπασι τῆς πρὸς τοὺς ϑεοὺς ἀπο-
στερηϑῶμεν κοινωνίας, δέδωκεν ἡμῖν διὰ τῶν
ἱερῶν τεχνῶν ἐπίσκεψιν, ὑφ᾽ ἧς πρὸς τὰς χρείας
ἕξομεν τὴν ἀποχρῶσαν βοήϑειαν
8 Cyrill. 1. VI. f. 500.
4 Ἰατρικὴν τὴν ἐξ. ᾿Ασκληπιοῦ, οὗ πανταχοῦ
γῆς ἐστι χρηστήρια, ἅ δίδωσιν ἡμῖν ὁ ϑεὸς
μεταλαγχάνειν διηνεκῶς. ᾿Ἐμὲ γοῦν ἰάσατο
πολλώκις Ἀσκληπιὸς κάμνοντα, ὑπαγορεύσας
φάρμακα. Lc. 1. VIL. f. 235.
6 Πλᾶσμα ἀνϑρώπων ὑπὸ κακουργίας συν-
τεϑὲν, ἔχουσα μὲν οὐδὲν ϑεῖον, ἀποχρησαμένη
δὲ τῷ φιλομύϑῳ καὶ παιδαριώδει καὶ ἀνοῆτῳ
τῆς ψυχῆς μορίῳ, τὴν τερατολογίαν εἰς πίστιν
ἤγαγεν ἀληϑείας. Cyrill. lib. I. f. 39
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 198
production of this sort seems not to answer to their way of thinking. But
even were we disposed to believe that the author of this dialogue was
given to none of the commonly prevailing theories, but had constructed a
peculiar theory of his own, yet there still remain many other difficulties in
the way of the hypothesis that the dialogue was composed in the times of
Julian, or, according to the theory of the pastor M. Ehemann, (in the
Studien der evangelischen Geistlichkeit Wiirtembergs, BG. 234, Tieths cael.
1839,) in the times of the emperor Valens. What is the meaning of such
a promise as that Egypt should be subjugated? It could not be set forth
as a promise for the future under any one of the Roman emperors, down to
the time when the country was conquered by the Saracens. It was then
only that the recovery of this country could be reckoned among the hap-
piest prospects of the Roman empire. It may also be questioned, whether
the manner in which the doctrine of the Trinity is spoken of in § 12, does
not betray an author who wrote after the second ecumenical council. And
if a good deal is to be found in the historical writings of Leo the deacon,
from which the allusions in the dialogue may be most easily explained, the
opinion which was first broached by the lamented Niebuhr, and which was
afterwards adopted by Hase, in the edition of the Script. By. T. XI,
deserves a more careful examination.
P. 104, these hostile machinations.| An insulated narrative! has come
down to our times, from which we learn how mightily Christianity wrought
in Persia at the commencement of the fourth century. Under the reign
of Hormisdas II., (from the year 301 to 808,2) one of the first of the
Magians, named Mobed, aman who stood in the highest veneration,®? em-
braced Christianity, and wrote a work against the doctrine of Zoroaster,
and in defence of the Christian religion. This work, widely disseminated
in Persia, seems to have accomplished much for the spread of Christianity.
As it was found impossible to put him down by disputafion, he was stoned
to death. The Armenian bishops, in their reply to the proclamation of
Mihr-Nerseh, allege that any one might learn what Christianity was from
the writings of this Mobed.*
P. 105, “everything that transpired in the East.] Yet the persecution
certainly did not arise in the first place out of mere political interests ; but
religious fanaticism and the influence of the Magians contributed in no
small measure to excite it. Indeed, one of the most honored and learned
of that body, Mobed, had embraced Christianity. The multiplication of
splendid churches had excited the jealousy of the Magiang; and they
declared that everything must be sacrificed rather than suffer "Christianity
utterly to suppress the worship of Ormuzd.®
P. 106, and thereby punished men.| Such a doctrine seemed to the
Persians, a confounding of Ormuzd and Ahriman. It seemed ascribing to
1 We are indebted for this account to the
history of the religious wars in Armenia,
very recently published, and written by the
Armenian bishop Eliszeus.
2 Unless we are to understand Hormisdas
I. who reigned from 272 to 273.
8 According to the version of Neumann:
Whom you held to be something more than
aman. According to the Italian translation
of Cappelletti, Venezia, 1840, the commu-
nication of which I owe to my friend and
colleague Petermann: “ Che voi reputavate
piu sublime dell’ umana natura.”
62°
VOL. Il.
* See Neumann’s English translation of
Eliseus, p. 14; Italian translation, Ρ. 38.
5 A remarkable expression of this kind is
ascribed to king Jezdegerdes II. in the his-
torical work of Eliseeus, (p. 30, l.c.:) I have
heard from my ancestors, that when, in the
times of Sapor 11. this doctrine was propa-
gated through the whole empire, the teach-
ers of our faith prevailed on the king to
issue a severe edict for the suppression of
Christianity, that the faith of the Magians
might not utterly perish.
184 NOTES AND REMARKS
God what could be said of no one but Ahriman. “ Such fury — says the
edict cited in the text—never got possession of any man against his
fellows ; how much less could it exist in God against man. The man who
uses such language, is deaf and blind, — deceived by that serpent, the
devil.”
Same page, 106, ‘were objects of worship with the Persians.| Thus the
Persian king said to the Christians in Armenia: “I have sworn by the
sun, the great god, whose beams enlighten the whole world,- and whose
warmth gives life to all creatures, that if, at his wonderful appearance in
the morning, every knee does not bow in worship before him and acknowl-
edge him as god, I will abandon you to every species of persecution.” ἢ
P. 107, to God, the Creator of all things.| ‘The spirit of Oriental des-
potism among the Persians, as elsewhere, required that the subject should
have no other religion than his king had. Accordingly, in the proclama-
tion so often cited, we find it said: “ Know, that ye are bound to adopt the
faith of your sovereign ; especially, as we have to give an account of you
to God.”
P. 110, had permission to leave the country.| King Sapor was at length
forced to see himself, that by the violence which he employed for the sup-
pression of Christianity, nothing could be accomplished ; and the unhappy
issue of all his sanguinary edicts induced him to grant a general tolerance
to all religious denominations in Persia. In the history of the religious
wars, written by the Armenian bishop Eliszeus, the Persian king, Jezde-
gerdes II., gives a report of the end of this persecution, which, although it
cannot have been expressed in these terms by the prince himself, is yet
worthy of notice, and may contain some truth. “ When the King (Sapor
II.) had shut up all the churches throughout Persia, the Christians next
converted every house into a church, and performed their religious rites in
every place; nay, they even supposed themselves to be temples, and re-
garded themselves as more and better than mere earthly creatures. They
endured the severest persecutions, nor did their necks grow weary. Their
goods were plundered, but still there were always more to plunder. The
king was greatly incensed, and the executioners in despair; but the Chris-
tians were full of joy, bore all their sufferings with equanimity, and sub-
mitted patiently to the spoiling of their goods. When the king saw that
they mocked at death, and looked upon it as nothing other than a way to
their heavenly home, he commanded all the Magians and Mobed to disturb
no man, but to suffer each to follow without fear his own faith.” ?
P. 113, he desired an interview with the bishop.| The first years only
of the reign of Varanes were so unfavorable to the Christians. At a later
period — and the noble conduct of this bishop, Acacius, may have con-
tributed to bring about the change — he became their friend. He declared
Christianity to be next after the doctrine of Ormuzd, better than all other
religions. He showed great respect for the bishops. But the successor of
Varanes, Jezdegerdes II., was again a violent enemy of the Christians.
P. 114, they preferred to die as martyrs rather than to deny their faith.]
Their manifesto concluded with the following declaration: “ From this
faith, no power, no angel nor man can remove us ; — no fire, no sword, no
death in the waves of the sea, no violence of tortures, whatever they may
be. Decide as you please, provided you do but leave us our faith, we will
1 See Hlisxeus’ history of the Armenian 2 See the work so often cited above, p. 30.
religious wars,translated by Neumann, p.82. and the following.
735
FROM THE SECOND EDITION.
seek here below for no other lord but you; as we will have in heaven no
other God than Jesus Christ, for there is no other God besides him. But
if you would rather hear something else from us than this great witness,
then learn our determination. Our bodies are in your power; do with
them according to your good pleasure. In your power is the rack, in ours
is patience. You possess the sword, we have necks to offer you. We are
no better than our fathers, who gave up property and life for the sake of
the faith. Propose to us, then, no further questions on these matters ; for
our faith comes not from men. We are not to be taught like children.
We are united inseparably with God, from whom nothing, either present,
or in the future, or in all eternity, shall be able to separate us.” ἢ
Same page, 114, they were prevailed upon to give in their denial.] It is
true, that many of the nobles, on this occasion, were induced to deny: but
the attempt of the Persians to extirpate Christianity by force, and to in-
troduce the religion of Zoroaster, stirred up a universal movement among
the people, and a religious war. And this happened repeatedly. Some
were betrayed into denial of the faith and treason to their country. But
on the other band, there was shown also a zeal for the faith which sacri-
ficed all things and was ready to suffer all things for the holy cause, and
a heroic courage in contending for the highest good.?
P. 117. Indicopleustes.| ‘The Persian church then seems to have
been active in promoting the extension of Christianity. Their commercial
relations, and even the persecutions they endured, which led Christians to
emigrate to other countries, might be the occasion of this. We find it
stated, that as early as the fourth century, under the reign of Sapor 11].,
Christianity had been diffused by the churches, which were so flourishing
in this eountry previous to the outbreak of the persecution, to the Eastern
countries lying on the Caspian sea, and thence south, even to East India.®
Here conclude the accounts which Cosmas gives respecting the Christians
in India.
P. 117, where there was a Persian bishop.| From the accounts of Cos-
mas, it can by no means be inferred that Christianity was spread among
the native inhabitants of the country.
P. 125, bishop of the Goths.] Ulphilas was born A. Ὁ. 318,‘ and prob-
1 History of the religious wars, by the
bishop Eliszeus, p. 20.
2 Memoires sur lArménie, T. I. p. 323.
Comp. also the work of Eliszeus.
8 See Eliszus, 1. c. p. 30. According to
Neumann’s translation: This doctrine be-
gan to spread through the land and thence
to the countries towards the East: it came
into the land of the Kushanians, and thence
it spread itself South, even unto the Indies.
Neumann explains the name Kushanians
as belonging to a people in the neighborhood
of the Caspian sea. According to the Ital-
ian translation: Sino al pese dei Tartari e
di la si estese alle parti meridionali sino
alle Indie. A remarkable testimony con-
cerning the route by which Christianity
spread from Persia to the East Indies.
4 We are indebted to Professor Waitz, in
Kiel, for the publication of a very important
fragment from a polemical tract, composed,
as it should seem, by the Arian bishop Max-
imin, in which is to be found an essay on
the life and labors of Ulphilas, by one of
his disciples, the bishop Auxentius of Do-
rostorus, (Silistria.) This piece, edited by
Professor Waitz, from a Parisian manu-
script, has first made it possible to clear up
the chronological confusion, and to throw
more light on this obscure subject ; and the
editor himself has already made good use -
of it for this purpose. This frazment must
henceforth be the basis of all future inqui-
ries into the present subject. Ueber Leben
und die Lehre des Ulphila. Bruchstiicke
eines ungedructen Werkes aus dem Ende des
vierten Jahrhunderts. Herausgegeben und
erlautert von Seorg Waitz. Hanover, 1840.
Now as it may be gathered from this work,
that Ulphilas entered the episcopal office in
his thirtieth year, and having administered
that office forty years, died in 388, when the
law cited in Cod. Theodos. 1. XVI. Tit. IV.
]. 2, was enacted, (see the work above men-
tioned, p. 21, 23,) it follows, that he was
born in the year 318.
736 NOTES AND REMARKS
ably educated in Christianity. He administered the office of church-reader
in the little community which had already been formed among his people,
till he was consecrated as a bishop in the year 348. And he labored partly
for the further extension of Christianity, and partly for the promotion of
Christian knowledge and Christian life among those who, being until now
destitute of teachers, had but a very scanty and imperfect knowledge of
Christianity.
Christianity having, through the zealous efforts of Ulphilas, found a
wide door of entrance among the Goths, the fury of the Pagans was ex-
cited against it the more; and perhaps the ruler of the Goths, who is
called a violent enemy of Christianity in this period, was the same Ath-
anaric ? who still later appears as a persecutor of the Christians.2 The
persecution proves how deeply Christianity had struck root in the hearts
of this people, for multitudes of men and women suffered as martyrs ;* so
that, as the bishop Auxentius, who reports this fact, expresses it, the per-
secutors themselves were abashed, while those who suffered the persecu-
tion obtained the crown.’ By reason of this persecution, Ulphilas, having
now administered his episcopal office seven years, was induced, with a
large number of his countrymen, in the year 355, to cross over the Danube
and seek after a place of refuge within the Roman empire.®
By the negotiations of Ulphilas, for whom the emperor Constantius
entertained a high respect, places for settlement were provided for these
Goths in Meesia. Men were fond of comparing Ulphilas with Moses,
since, under his guidance, the Goths had accomplished this exodus from
the midst of heathens, and delivered from the wrath of that other Pharaoh,
Athanaric, had been conducted to a land where they could enjoy their
religion securely and without disturbance."
1 The following is said respecting his
appointment as bishop, by Auxentius, in the
tract of Maximin, p. 20: Hic, Dei provi-
dentia et Christi misericordia, propter mul-
torum salutem in gente Gothorum, de lec-
tore triginta annorum episcopus est ordina-
tus, ut non solum esset heres Dei et co-
heres Christi, sed et in hoc per gratiam
Christi imitor Christi et sanctorum ejus; ut
quemadmodum sanctus David triginta an-
norum rex et propheta est constitutus, ut
regeret et doceret populum Dei et filios Is-
rael, ita et iste beatus tanquam propheta est
manifestatus et sacerdos Christi ordinatus,
ut regeret et corrigeret et doceret et sedifica-
ret gentem Gothorum, quod et Deo volente
et Christo auxiliante per ministerium ejus
admirabiliter est adimpletum; et sicuti Jo-
seph in eypto triginta annorum est mani-
festatus, et qaemadmodum Dominus et Deus
noster Jesus Christus, filius Dei, triginta an-
norum secundum carnem constitutus et
baptizatus, coepit evangelium predicare et
animas hominum pascere; ita et iste sanctus,
ipsius Christi dispositione et ordinatione, et
in fame et in penuria preedicationis indiffer-
enter agentem ipsam gentem Gothorum,
secundum eyangelicam et apostolicam et
propheticam regulam emendavit et vivere
docuit, et Christianos vere Christianos esse
manifestavit et multiplicavit.
2This we may infer, with Prof. Waitz,
By this successful enterprize,
from the fact that he is styled by Auxentius,
in the tract of Maximin, (p. 20.) “judex
Gothorum ;” and ‘Themistius says of the
Gothic prince (Athanaric) with whom Va-
lens had a war, (de pace, p. 160:) Τὴν μὲν
τοῦ βασιλέως ἐπωνυμίαν ἀπαξιοῖ, τὴν τοῦ
δικαστοῦ δὲ ἀγαπᾷ,
3 Socrates, |. IV. ο. 33.
1 On this point, says Auxentius, (1. ¢. p.
20:) Ubi et ex invidia et operatione inimici
tunc ab irreligioso et sacrilego judice Gotho-
rum tyrannico terrore in barbarico Christia-
norum persecutio est excitata, ut Satanas,
qui male facere cupiebat, nolens faceret
bene, ut quos desiderabat praevaricatores
facere, et desertores, Christo opitulante et
propugnante, tierent martyres et confessores.
8. Ut persecutor confunderetur, et qui per-
secutionem patiebantur, coronarentur; ut
hic qui tentabat vincere, victus erubesceret,
et qui tentabantur, victores gauderent.
®The words of Auxentius (1. 6.) are:
Ubi et post multorum servorum et ancilla-
rum Christi gloriosum martyrium, immi-
nente vehementer ipsa persecutione, com-
pletis septem annis tantummodo in episco-
patu, cum grandi populo confessorum de
barbarico pulsus in solo Romaniz a Con-
stantio principe honorifice est susceptus.
7 Philostorgius, who reports after a man-
ner which accords with Auxentius this
migration of the Goths under the guidance
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 151
he could not fail to have won upon the confidence of his people. He
preached with great fervor; and to this end, had made himself master of
the Gothic, Greek, and Latin languages. In this first bishop from the
midst of the German race, we see thus early a representative of that ten-
dency, which is said always to have distinguished the German people, and
by virtue of which the greatest revolution in the development of the
church was brought about — love for the sacred scriptures, leading to the
effort to make it accessible to the people. To this end, he invented for the
Goths an alphabet, and made use of it to give them a translation of the
Bible in their own tongue. He is said to have composed theological and
devotional tracts in all the three languages above mentioned.”
It is unknown whether all the Christians among the Goths emigrated
with Ulphilas, or whether many still remained behind, and continued to
labor for the spread of Christianity. The seed sown by him produced an
after-harvest in various ways ; but Christianity was also introduced among
the Goths from other quarters, as indeed it might have been by those
bishops who resided in the adjacent provinces of the Roman empire. One
of these, Ascholius, bishop of Thessalonica, we find afterwards in intimate
correspondence with the church among the Goths who dwelt beyond the
empire of the Romans. But the fresh spread of Christianity provoked
once more a violent persecution from its old enemy, Athanaric. This took
place in the year 370, and onward. Among the Gothic Christians of this
time, we find men possessed of an ardent zeal, which led many of them to
encounter martyrdom. Distinguished among these was Sabas, of whose
history we have a very particular account from the church to which he
belonged. This report is, moreover, an important one, as it gives a very
precise statement of the character of the persecution against the Christians
among the Goths. It is plain from this narrative, that it was not so much
the people who were inflamed with fanaticism against Christianity, as the
prince and chief men, who, influenced perhaps by political rather than
religious motives, were seeking to suppress a foreign religion.
Sabas was a pious layman, of Gothic descent, who, from his early child-
hood, seems to have had no other object before him than to be a devout
Christian. He got himself enrolled among the regularly-appointed church-
singers, and in this vocation discharged his duty with great diligence and
care. He led a rigidly abstemious life; he was a bold and decided witness
for the truth and against idolatry, but without unnecessarily obtruding him-
self into notice. His zeal for the faith had already exposed him to many
dangers. When the chief men among the Goths first began to persecute
Christianity, they commanded the Christians, as had been done in the first
centuries, to prove their abjuration of the faith by partaking of the meat
of Ulphilas, is right when he asserts that
this expedition did not take place, as other
writers asserted, in the reign of Valens, but
places it too early, viz.. under the reign of
Constantine. Jt must have been not Con-
stantine but Constantius, who is said to
have called Ulphilas, “the Moses of our
time,” (ὁ ἐφ’ ἡμῶν Μωσῆς.) This title. is
also given to Ulphilas by Auxentius, |. ¢.:
Sicuti Deus per Mosen de potentia et vio-
lentia Pharaonis et Egyptiorum populum
suum liberavit et rubrum mare transire fecit,
et sibi servire providit, ita et per seepe dictum
Deus confessores sancti filii sui unogeniti
VOL. Il. 62*
de barbarico liberavit, et per Danubium
transire fecit, et in montibus, secundum sane-
torum imitationem, sibi servire decrevit.
1 As Auxentius says: Grecam et Lati-
nam et Gothicam linguam sine intermissione
in una et sola ecclesia Christi praedicavit.
2 As Auxentius says: Qui et ipsis tribus
linguis plures tractatus et multas interpreta-
tiones, volentibus ad utilitatem et sedifica-
tionem, sibi ad seternam- memoriam et mer-
cedem, post se dereliquit. He may perhaps
here have had in his mind the Gothic trans-
lation of the bible above mentioned
738 NOTES AND REMARKS
offered in sacrifices. Now, the Pagans of the village where Sabas lived,
were for resorting to an artifice, in order to deceive the Pagan authorities
and save the Christians, who were their neighbors. Instead of meat which
had been actually offered in sacrifice, they proposed to set before them, on
the day of trial, other meat, which they pretended was such, of which the
Christians might partake without scruple, while the magistrates supposed
the terms of the law had been complied with. But Sabas could not con-
sent to this deception, and pointed out the wrong of it to -his fellow-
believers. The Pagans, therefore, drove him from the village, when they
found their trick had been frustrated by his means: but after a time they
recalled him.
Some time afterwards, the Pagan magistrate directed another similar
examination to be held in the same place, for the purpose of ascertaining
whether there were no apostates from the old popular religion. On this
occasion, certain persons presented themselves with offerings, and declared
themselves ready to take oath before the magistrate who managed the trial,
that there were no Christians in their village. But Sabas came forward
and said openly, “So far as it concerns myself, let no one swear, for I am
a Christian.” Upon this the inhabitants of the village, who had removed
the Christians from their houses to a place of concealment, declared on
their oath, that “there was but one Christian in the village.” The person
who conducted the examination, caused Sabas to be brought before the
assembly, and asked the by-standers whether he owned any property.
Being assured that he owned nothing but what was on his back, the Pagan
contemptuously exclaimed, “Such a fellow can do neither good nor hurt,”
and ordered him to be cast out.
It must have become very evident, that by such repeated examinations,
the object had in view, which was to extirpate Christianity, could not be
accomplished ; and the less so as the Pagan people, instead of sharing in
the fanaticism of their superiors, were quite willing to protect the Chris-
tians. ‘The persecution of course became more violent when this was
remarked. Soon after the Christian community of the village had cele-
brated the festival of Easter, Athanaric himself fell upon the place with
a troop of armed men. The village preacher and Sabas were seized in
the tents where they slept, bound in chains and carried off, suffering much
ill treatment on the way. The faith of Sabas, which triumphed over all his
sufferings, irritated the fury of his persecutors. By the strength of his faith,
which imparted even to his body an unusual power of endurance, enabling
him to suffer without sinking, he went firmly through the whole, and
nothing could disturb his cheerfulness. During great part of the night he
was subjected to various kinds of torture, till at length his tormentors
fell asleep and left him bound upon the ground. A woman of the house,
who arose in the night to make bread for the family, took pity on him and
released him from his chains. He fearlessly remained on the spot, and
assisted the woman in her work. The next morning, when Athanaric
heard of this, he caused him to be bound again, and hung to a beam of the
house. Then came certain persons in the name of Athanaric, and placing
meat from the sacrifices before the priest and Sabas, told them to eat it
and save their lives. Said the priest: ‘“‘ We are forbidden to partake of such
meat. Tell Athanaric he may order us to be crucified, or to die in what-
ever way he pleases.” But Sabas, whose pious feelings were not wholly
unmixed with passionate excitement, asked: “From whom comes this
message?” And being told, “ From our lord Athanaric ;” he exclaimed,
“There is but one Lord, the God in heaven; but Athanaric is a godless
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 739
man, and under the curse of God, — and this food, like Athanaric who sends
it to us, is unclean.” One of Athanaric’s people, incensed at these words,
struck him with a club so severely on the breast that the beholders sup-
-posed the stroke would be fatal. But he uttered no word of pain, and to
the smiter he said triumphantly: “ Believe me, I felt it as little as if you
had thrown upon me a lock of wool.” He was now condemned to death by
drowning. During the whole of the way, as he was led to the river where
he was to die, he praised God that he had been pleased to bestow on him
the privilege of dying as a martyr. Having arrived at the river, those who
conducted him began to consult with each other about letting him go, as he
had been guilty of no crime. Athanaric would probably never find it out.
But Sabas, who already, with the eye of faith, saw heaven open before him,
and wished not to exchange it for the earth, said, “ Why do ye not execute
your orders? I behold what you cannot see; already they wait in glorious
apparel, who are come to take me hence.” And while he was shouting
praise and giving thanks to God, with his neck fastened to a piece of wood, *
he was thrown into the water. His body was then drawn from the stream
and left to lie on the bank. But a Roman commander on the border, the
Dux Soranus, caused the bones of the martyr to be conveyed to the other
side, and sent them as precious relics to the church of Cappadocia, his
native province, in compliance with the request of his kinsman, the bishop
Basil, οἵ Csarea.?
The Christian communities among the Goths sent, on this occasion, a
circular letter, embodying a report of all these facts, to the communities of
Cappadocia, and to all the churches in Christendom. The letter began
with these words: “ What was said by the apostle Peter, that in every
nation he that feareth the Lord and worketh righteousness is accepted with
him, has been verified in a powerful manner also at the present time; for
we have in proof of it the life and sufferings of the blessed Sabas, who is
a witness of God and of our Saviour Jesus Christ.” And the letter con-
cludes as follows: “ Let a solemn festival be held, then, on the day in which
he received the crown of martyrdom; and mention it to the more distant
brethren, that so in the entire church a festival may be observed, and the
Lord, who chose his servant, may be praised. Greet all the saints ;—
all the persecuted with us greet you. Praised for ever be He, who can
conduct us all by his grace to the kingdom of heaven.”
The bones of Sabas, accompanied with the letter of the communities,
a letter also from Ascholius, bishop of Thessalonica, and from the Dux
Soranus,’ arrived in that unhappy season for the churches of Cappadocia,
when these communities were so rent asunder by the disputes and schisms
which the supremacy of the Arian party, under the emperor Valens, had
occasioned. Basil of Czsarea, comparing the then state of the church
with that of which he was reminded by the bones of the martyr and by the
description of the conflicts endured by the Gothic Christians, wrote to the
bishop Ascholius:* “ When we received your letter, and read it over and
1 For the conjecture is probably not un-
founded, that Basil’s ep. 155 was directed
to thig Dux Soranus. Basil writes : Καλῶς
δὲ ποιήσεις, ἐὰν καὶ λείψανα μαρτύρων τῇ
πατρίδι ἐκπέμψῃς, εἴπερ ὡς ἐπέστειλας ἡμῖν,
ὁ ἐκεῖ διωγμὸς ποιεῖ καὶ νῦν (it is presupposed,
therefore, that this had been the case before)
ἄρτυρας τῷ Κυρίῳ. T. 111. Ὁ. pag. 354, ed.
aris, 1839. é
2 This letter, which we have had occasion
to quote before, is printed, in the Greek
original, in the Actis Sanctorum, T. II.
mens. April. Appendix f. 967.
3 Letter 165 among those of Basil seems
certainly much more to have been intended
for this Dux, than for the bishop Ascholius
of Thessalonica, to whom it was addressed
in the superscription. * Letter 164.
140 NOTES AND REMARKS
over, we imagined ourselves transported back to those ancient days, when
the churches of God prospered, being grounded in the faith and united
together in love ; when harmony prevailed as among the manifold members
of one body; when it was manifest who was the persecutor and who were
the persecuted; when the churches attacked increased continually in num-
bers ; when the blood of the martyrs only served to multiply the champions
of the faith. Then we Christians maintained peace among each other, —
that peace which our Lord left as a legacy, but of which at present not
a single vestige remains.”
Ascholius having mentioned in his letter a certain Eutyches, a Cappa-
docian, who, as we may infer from some expressions of Basil, had in earlier
times labored abundantly among the Goths,! and having spoken in praise
of their common country Cappadocia, whence all these blessings had come,
Basil replied: “ By reminding us of the past, you have rejoiced our hearts,
while at the same time we are pained by the signs which we now see before
us: for no one of us is to be compared with Eutyches. Indeed, so far are
we from being in any condition to lead barbarians by the power of the
Spirit and the efficacy of his gracious gifts to gentleness of manner, that by
the superabundance of our sins the very civilized themselves have much
rather been made barbarians.” ἢ
It is a noble trait in the church-historian Socrates, that he finds reason,
notwithstanding their want of correct knowledge, to respect the love of
Christ which led the Arian Goths to encounter martyrdom, and that he
acknowledges them as genuine martyrs.2 Yet the fact which he assumes,
is certainly not correct with regard to all the martyrs among them; for,
although Arianism was propagated in the school of Ulphilas, yet the seeds
of Christianity came also among the Goths from other quarters, by means
of teachers sent from orthodox communities; and hence with them had been
introduced another form of doctrine than the Arian. This was no doubt
the case with regard to the martyrs last named, as is shown by the circular
letter of the Gothie Christians which we have quoted.‘
Ulphilas himself labored as a bishop among his people forty years. The
last ten years of his life brought with them much that was a source of pain
to him; when the form of church doctrine to which he was warmly opposed,
the creed drawn up by the council of Nice, became more and more domi-
nant even in the Eastern church, and was favored by the civil power. He
himself was, in the year 388, called, with other bishops agreeing with him
in doctrine, by the emperor Theodosius to Constantinople, for the purpose
of holding there a new conference on the matters in dispute. By
the ruling doctrinal party, however, this negociation, which indeed under
the existing circumstances could have done no good,® was prevented; and
an imperial law was enacted, which forbade all new proceedings of this
sort with regard to matters of controversy.® Ulphilas and those associated
1 His words are (ἢ 2.:) "Eze? δὲ καὶ τοῦ
μακαρίου ἀνδρὸς Ἑϊτυχοῦς εἰς μνήμην ἡμᾶς
ἤγαγες.
2 Ὅι γε τοσοῦτον ἀπέχομεν βαρβάρους ἐξη-
μερῶσαι τῇ δυνώμει τοῦ πνεύματος καὶ τῇ ἐν-
epyeia τῶν παρ᾽ αὐτοῦ χαρισμώτων, ὥστε καὶ
τοὺς ἡμέρως ἔχοντας τῇ ὑπερβολῇ τῶν ἁμαρ-
τιῶν ἡμῶν ἐξηγριῶσϑαι. From which words,
we may infer what had been done by Euty-
ches the Cappadocian among the Goths.
3 His words are, (1. 1V. ο. 83:) Οἱ BapBa-
pot ἁπλότητι τὸν Χριστιανισμὸν
4 This may be inferred from the doxology,
in contradiction to Arianism, with which the
letter concludes: Τῷ δὲ 'δυναμένῳ (God the
Father) δόξα xrA., σὺν παιδὶ μονογενῇ [εἴ]
καὶ ἁγίῳ πνεύματι.
5 See onward, doctrinal controversies.
6 The law which, since the time of its
enactment is certain, affords an important
chronological landmark. The law which is
printed in the above cited work of Maximin,
p. 23. Cod. Theodos. 1. XVI. Tit. IV. 1,2.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 741
with him, looked upon this regulation as only a proof of the want of confi-
dence of their opponents in the goodness of their cause, and a token that
the doctrine which they deemed to be the truth, was to be suppressed by
force1 This was the last painful event which the worthy bishop, who had
grown gray in the cause of Christianity, and in laboring for the Christian
education of his people, experienced. He died at Constantinople, A.D.
388, after having drawn up a statement of his faith as a legacy for his flock,
and laid down, in the prospect of death, a confession of the doctrines which
he preached and ever maintained.? He left behind him disciples who
labored on the foundation he had laid. One of these was the bishop
Auxentius, to whom we are indebted for the account of his life from
which we have so largely drawn. ‘The latter says of him: “ The man,
whom I cannot praise as he deserves, and of whom I dare not be wholly
silent, to whom I am more indebted than all others, as he bestowed more
pains on me than on others; for he took me as his disciple from my
earliest years, when my parents gave me to him, taught me to study the
holy scriptures, opened to me the truth, and by the mercy of God and the
grace of Christ, brought me up bodily and spiritually as his son in the
faith.” ὃ
P. 129, to the common participation in the communion.| While The-
mistius, taking his view from the position of the ancients, held the chasm
which separated the Goths, as barbarians, from the cultivated Hellenico-
Roman world, to be one grounded in an original difference of nature, and,
therefore, never to be filled up ;— and wholly in accordance with the spirit
of Plato, applied what the latter had said respecting the relation of the
passions to reason in individuals, as in the state, so to the relation of the
nationality of the barbarians to that of the Greeks and Romans ;* the
church-fathers, on the contrary, point out in what Christianity had already
begun to effect among these tribes, the same power of the gospel to trans-
form man’s nature, which that gospel uniformly carried along with it.
Thus, Athanasius testifies, in the passage before cited, where he speaks, in
connection with the Persians, of the Armenians, and the nations dwelling
beyond the ocean, the Goths: “ Who could overthrow, in all these tribes
of men, the worship of idols, and plant virtue? Who, except our Lord
Jesus Christ, who not only preached by his disciples, but by his efficacious
influence on the minds of men, induced them to lay aside their rudeness of
manners, and, abandoning the worship of the gods of their country, to
acknowledge him? Who is it, that unites together in harmony those who
had been used to hate each other? Who else could effect this, but the
rentibus meis discipulum suscepit, et sacras
1 Maximin says, (p. 23:) Prefati pre- Ι u
literas docuit, et veritatem manifestavit, et
positi heretici, — so appeared to be the ad-
herents of the Nicene Homoousion — om-
nibus viribus institerunt, ut lex daretur, que
concilium prohiberet.
2 Auxentius says of Ulphilas, p. 21: Qui
et in exitu suo usque in ipso mortis mo-
mento per ‘testamentum fidem suam scrip-
tam populo sibi credito dereliquit. The
first words of this testament are: Ego Ul-
fila, episcopus et confessor, sie eredidi; et in
hae fide sola et vera, testamentum facio ad
Dominum meum.
8 Quem condigne laudare non sufficio et
penitus tacere non audeo, cui plus omnium
ego sum debitor, quantum et amplius in me
laboravit, qui me a prima tate mea a pa-
per misericordiam Dei et gratiam Christi et
carnaliter et spiritaliter ut filium suum in
fide educavit. P. 20.
4 De pace, p. 157: Elvai τι καὶ ἐν ἐκάστῳ
βάρβαρον φῦλον, λίαν αὔϑαδες καὶ δυσπειϑὲς,
τὸν ϑυμὸν λέγω καὶ τὰς ἀπλήστους ἐπιϑυμίας,
ἀντικαϑήμενα γένῃ τῳ λογισμῷ, καϑάπερ Ῥω-
μαίοις, Σκύϑαι καὶ Τερμανοί. As reason is
not wholly to destroy the passions and de-
sires implanted by nature, but to bridle
them ; so, too. the barbarian tribes, answering
to these lower powers in relation to the
reason which is destined to rule, are not to
be destroyed, but compelled to obedience.
742 NOTES AND REMARKS
beloved Son of the Father, the common Saviour of all, Jesus Christ, whose
love led him to suffer everything for us? Yes; it had been predicted,
even from the beginning, what empire of peace he was to found — for the
holy scriptures announce, (Isaiah 2: 4:) ‘Then they shall beat their
swords into plough-shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks, nation shall
not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.’
Nor is this any longer incredible ; for even now the barbarians, to whom
the rudeness of manners is innate, so long as they still offer to idols, rage
against one another, and cannot rest a moment easy without the sword; but
no sooner do they receive the doctrine of Christ, than they turn from the
pursuits of war to agriculture, and instead of arming their hands with the
sword, lift them up in prayer; and, in a word, from henceforth, instead of
waging war with each other, enter the lists against Satan and the spirits of
evil ; and, by self-command and the virtues of the soul, seek to gain the
victory over them. This is an evidence of the divine power of our Saviour
—and the wonderful thing is, that they remain faithful unto death, and die
as witnesses for Christ.” 1
P. 132. This theory was the prevailing one in the time of Constantine. ]
There were three different ways, one crossing the other, in which the em-
peror Constantine was used to consider his relation to the church. The
first, and that to which he was most inclined, since it had sprung out of his
earlier eclecticism, and besides was ever and anon recommended anew by
the influence of moderate bishops, or of philosophers given to Platonism,
was the principle of religious tolerance, which made him respect the rights
of individual conviction. And sometimes, also, we see him led back to this
his original principle by his own sad experience of the evils resulting from
mixing up politics with religion. Next to this, was the theocratic theory,
which naturally found its way into his mind from the previous development
of the church. The third principle was the religioso-political, by which he
was led to suppose, or to pretend, that, as head over the state, he was
authorized to exert an influence on the affairs of the church.
P.1385. Occasion for the interposition of a foreign power.| As all
the elements which had a disturbing influence on the progressive develop-
ment of Christianity, grew out of those principles of the old world, which,
overthrown by the gospel, had again asserted their validity and contributed
to modify the shaping of Christianity itself, so we see the same thing re-
peated in the present case ;—on one side, in the Roman church, the
Jewish principle of an outward theocracy; on the other, in the Greek
church, the Pagan principle of a state-religion, or the political element,
subordinating every other development to its vwn.
P. 189. No further appeal could be made from it.] This was nothing
foreign from the constitution of the Roman law. The bishops only had
conceded to them the power which was allowed to arbitrators, (arbitris, )
chosen a compromisso by the two contending parties.
P. 143. Addition to note 1.] The collectors of the taxes in Cappa-
docia had been in the habit of exacting from the peasants an oath; thus
exposing them to the temptation of committing perjury. Basil of Czsarea,
who had often protested in their assemblies against this abuse, finally wrote
to the governor of the province, as follows: “ We have one way left, which
is by this letter, to adjure you before God and men to forbear exposing the
souls of men to death, and to devise some other method of collecting the
1 De incarnatione verbi, § 51, 52.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 743
taxes, but leave to men their souls unharmed. For the exacting of oaths
is of no use or advantage towards collecting the taxes, and it is certainly
harmful to the souls of men. Let them but once learn to regard taking a
. false oath as a trifle, and they will no longer be compelled honestly to pay
their taxes, but will suppose that in the oath they have found a convenient
means of deception and of evading their obligations.” ?
P. 146. Receive him back without inflicting any further punishment. |
Whe civil power acknowledged this influence of the church, in promoting
‘the interests of humanity, and strove to uphold it. By a law enacted in
the year 409, it was made the duty of judges to inquire every Sunday of
the prisoners, whether they had been kindly treated, and it was assumed,
as a matter of course, that it belonged to the vocation of the bishops to
admonish the judges to the humane treatment of prisoners.? A law of the
emperor Justinian, passed in the year 529, made it incumbent on the bishops
to visit the prisons on Wednesdays and Fridays, (on these particular days
doubtless in memory of Christ’s passion,) to inquire carefully into the
crimes for which each prisoner was confined, and about the treatment
which he received, and to report whatever they observed contrary to good
order to the superior magistrates. They were also to see to it, that no
person was confined elsewhere than in the public prisons.®
P.177. Opposition to new forms of error.| Vincentius, a monk, be-
longing to the cloister of Lerina, an island in Provence, reduced these
ideas, dispersed through the writings of Augustin, to systematic form, in a
book which constitutes an epoch in the history of the notions respecting
tradition. He published this work in 434, some years after Augustin’s
death, under the title of Commonitorium, or Tractatus peregrini adversum
hereticos. We find here, how, in forming his conception of tradition, he
had struck on the conservative element — that of pregressive evolution,
without which the preservation of the original truth is impossible in the
impure current of time. The true element in Montanism, but wrongly
applied by it, inasmuch as it considered the progressive evolution as one to
be effected by means of new revelations introduced from without, had
passed over into the church, and had been transferred to the evolution
grounded in the very essence of Christianity, and proceeding out of itself.
Respecting this, Vincentius pertinently remarks: “ Beyond doubt, we ought
to hold to a progressive evolution of Christian truth ; for everything in the
world advances from one stage to another as it grows older.* but this
progressive evolution presupposes the existence of an abiding principle in
the peculiar nature of the thing itself. The contrary to this would not be
a growth, but a change to something else. The original doctrines of
heavenly wisdom must, with the progress of time, needs become more
exactly defined; but they should not be altered or curtailed. They must
be unfolded in greater clearness and distinctness, but they should lose
nothing of their pure and complete individual nature’ The antagonism
of new errors has brought out this more precise determination and clearer
exposition of the truth. By means of this antagonism, what had before
been a matter of tacit tradition, came to be fully expressed in the letter.
1 See epist. 85. fectus hahebitur religionis? Habeatur plane
2 Nec deerit antistitam Christiane religi- et maximus. Nam quis ille est tam invidus
onis cura Jaudabilis, que ad observationem hominibus, tam exosus Deo, qui istud pro-
constituti judicis hanc ingerat monitionem. hibere conetur? C. 28
Cod. Theodos. |. IX. Tit. III. 1. 7. 5 Accipi: int licet evidentiam, lucem, dis-
8 Cod. Justinian. 1. I. Tit IV. 1. 22 et 33. tinetionem. sed retineant necesse est pleni-
4 Nullusne ergo in ecclesia Christi pro- tudinem, integritatem, proprietatem. C.30
144 NOTES AND REMARKS
But instead of the Montanistic way of rendering the thing outward, is
substituted another. According to the view here taken, the progressive
evolution is necessarily confined to a determinate organ. It expresses
itself through the general councils ; and to the progress thus expressed, all
individuals must submit their judgment. Thus the exposition of the
sacred writings, acknowledged to be the only and perfect source of the
knowledge of the truths of faith, and the deduction of the doctrines of
faith from them, were made to depend on a church authority of this kind.
This authority alone is the sure guide to what is right, amid the different
shades and oppositions of human opinion.t The absence of an art of
interpretation, founded on scientific principles, which might be a safe-guard
against arbitrary conjectures, was to be supplied by the constraining au-
thority of an outward rule. And instead of trusting in the intrinsic power
of the truth and the free working of the Holy Spirit in the church, men
were to rely on an outward church guidance of this sort, which was calcu-
lated to check and cramp the free, individual development. This human
government of the church, it was maintained, is the necessary means by
which the ever-abiding influence of Christ is secured.
P. 269. Jovinian, the protestant of his time, &e.| Out of the depths
of the Christian consciousness, silently unfolding itself in monasticism, pro-
ceeded forth here —a foretoken of what long afterwards took place by
means of Luther — the reaction against the ordinary monkish morality,
and the doctrinal errors connected therewith.
While it was customary, in Christian morals, to make the distinction of
a higher and a lower position, the latter consisting in an observance of the
“precepts,” the former in a fulfilment of the “evangelical counsels,” Jo-
vinian opposed to this distinction the unity of the divine life grounded in
faith on the Redeemer and flowing out of the new birth. This he consid-
ered to be the highest and principal thing —and he knew of but one
antithesis, that between redemption and perseverance in the estrangement
from God ; between a life devoted to this present world, and a life rooted in
the fellowship with God: compared with this, all other differences, in his
estimation, sunk into insignificance.
P. 270. Hence he continued to live as a monk, &c.] Take whatever
course he might, however, he could not escape the hateful charge of being
actually guilty of all such consequences as his opponents chose to derive
from his doctrines. If, in accordance with his principles, he led a life of
more freedom, though he continued to be a monk ; if he made no outward
show of monkish asceticism in his dress, this was construed as an aban-
doning of the holiness of monachism for the elegance of common life, and
he was accused of luxury.2, And Jerome bids him either to marry, and
so testify by that fact, that he placed the married life on a parity with
the life of celibacy; or else cease to contend in words against those
with whom in practice he agreed.? It would seem that, on account of
the false reports which, owing to the misconstruction put upon his con-
duct, had got abroad concerning him, he was led to publish a tract in
1 See c. 2: Multum necesse est, propter dus, dealbatus, et quasi sponsus semper ince-
tantos tam varii erroris amfractus, ut pro- dens. Hieron. c. Joy. Lib. I. § 40.
phetice et apostolicz interpretationis linea 8 Aut uxorem ducat, ut equalem virgini-
secundum ecclesiastici et catholici sensus tatem nuptiis probet, aut si non duxerit,
normam dirigatur. frustra contra nos verbis agit, cum opere
2 Iste formosus monachus, crassus, niti- nobiscum sit. L.c.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 745
explanation of his principles.1_ Indeed, he had been urged to do this by
others? ."
P. 271. He attended the marriage feast at Cana.] And—he added,
in opposition to the tortuous expositions of holy writ, in which men allowed
themselves to indulge so as to bring them into harmony with their own
opinions — it is quite another thing, if, in the foolish spirit of dispute, you
affirm, that he attended a feast for the purpose of fasting, and that, after
the manner of false teachers, he said: “ This I eat; that I donot eat. I
will not drink of the wine which I have made out of water.” ὃ
P. 273. Had not as yet been really renewed.| He held the baptism of
such persons to be no better than a hypocritical one. Hence he could not
assent to the distinction, so commonly made in those times, between sins
committed before, and sins committed after baptism; for a baptism after
which men might again fall into sin, was to him the same as no baptism at
all. If persons who had thus fallen, afterwards came to true repentance
and faith, he supposed that they then received, for the first time, the bap-
tism of the spirit, of which before they had received only the outward
sign. Hence, he would not admit that there was any difference between
those who remained faithful to their baptismal vows from the first, and
those who, after having received the outward baptism, had fallen into sin,
and had then first, by means of true repentance, been really converted.
Accordingly, addressing himself to such, he says: “ Though you have fal-
len, repentance will restore you; and you who were hypocrites in your
baptism, will with your repentance obtain genuine faith.”* Now, if we
consider that Jovinian did not admit that there were different degrees of
sin, we are obliged to conclude from these remarks, that in his opinion the
regenerate were incapable of falling into any actual sin whatever.
P. 294. The prevailing spirit of the times.] We see that pictures or
images of Christ, of the Apostles, of martyrs, and other saints were then
widely diffused ; and that people were in the habit of prostrating them-
selves before them: but that instead of representing Christ on the cross,
against which a certain feeling of propriety revolted, they adhered to the
ancient custom, and employed the sign of the cross as a memorial of
Christ’s passion.
P. 337. Was the thought which Jerome here makes so prominent, actually
present to the consciousness of the people?| He evidently has respect only
to the Christian truth lying at the ground of the veneration paid to the
saints ; but not to the popular notions in which this truth became continu-
ally more and more obscured. And yet, in opposition to Vigilantius, he
brings forward the example of the emperor and the enthusiastic devotion
of the multitude.®
1 From which Jerome often cites passages
in his work against Jovinian; and this is
the source from which we derive our ac-
count of Jovinian’s doctrines.
2 This we take from his own words as
quoted by Jerome, lib. I. § 2: Satisfacio in-
vitatis (it should read invitatus) non ut
claro curram nomine, sed a rumore purga-
tus vivam vano.
8 Porro aliud est, si stulta contentione
dicitis, eum isse ad prandium jejunaturum,
et impostorum more dixisse: hoc comedo,
ilud non comedo, nolo vinum bibere, quod
ex aquis creavi. Lib. II. §5.
63
VOL. Il.
* Quod etsi cecideritis, redintegrabit vos
penitentia, et qui in baptismate fuistis hypo-
crite, eritis in peenitentia solide fidei. Lib
Il. § 37.
5 As characteristic of the times, take the
following passage: Sacrilegus fuit Constan-
tius imperator, qui sanctas reliquias Andres,
Luce, et Timothei transtulit Constantino-
polim, apud quas demones rugiunt et in-
habitatores Vigilantii illorum 856. sentire
presentiam confitentur? Sacrilegus di-
cendus est nunc Augustus Arcadius, qui
ossa beati Samuelis longo post tempore de
Judxa transtulit in Thraciam? Omnes
> ᾿
746 NOTES AND REMARKS
P. 339. Miracles ought, among Christians, no longer to be admitted.| In
comparing together these two men, who were in many respects so opposed
to each other, Vigilantius and Jerome, we perceive, in the one, an indul-
gent recognition of the Christian spirit ever lying at the ground of the erro-
neous expression of Christian feelings; but this, without a right earnest
zeal for the preservation of Christian truth in its purity: — while in the
other, we do indeed discern this earnest zeal, but look in vain for that
mild indulgence of the religious feelings, even in their aberrations, which
should never be separated from the zeal for reformation.
P. 344. Introduction.| It might seem that the case would be quite dif-
ferent with the course of the development of Christian doctrines, from
what we found it to be with regard to the matters treated of in the other
sections of this period of our history. It might seem that revolution
brought about by the conversion of the Roman emperors to Christianity
would not have the same importance in its bearing on doctrines as on the
other branches of Christian development. In looking back on the conflict
which had been gone through with Gnosticism ; on the position occupied by
the school of the great Origen ; on the antagonisms and conciliations intro-
duced by means of this school; we cannot fail to perceive that, indepen-
dent of all external agencies, a new stadium of development must now
necessarily commence. When Christianity had once asserted and dis-
tinctly expressed its own peculiar nature in the conflict with Judaism, Hel-
lenism, and Orientalism, this opposition to that which was extraneous to
itself would naturally relax ; and the more inward antagonisms between dif-
ferent doctrinal tendencies, which had in the meantime been forming,
would now make their appearance, in order, by their mutual adjustment
and conciliation with each other, to prepare the way for a higher unity.
Next after the stage of development, the distinctive character of which we
may designate as the predominantly apologetic stage, would follow a new
one, which we may call the systematizing period. The school of Origen
forms the transition from the apologetic to the systematizing tendency ; as,
in fact, Origen constitutes, on the one hand, the highest point of the apolo-
getic tendency, and on the other, the starting point of the new systemati-
zing development. The termination of the first and the commencement
of the second stage of development meet together in him. A great and
important turning-point had, then, in the natural course of things, here
occurred.
P. 348. Augustin, who bore the most distinguished part in the contro-
versy above mentioned.| Augustin has himself described the common centre
alluded to in the previous paragraph, in language which we may compare
with that of Gregory Nazianzen. (Note p. 348.) “The whole essence
of the Christian faith —says he —reposes in the opposition and contra-
riety between two men, of whom the one is he through whom we were
brought into the bondage of sin, and the other He by whom we are redeem-
ed from sin; as in truth the one ruined us in himself, in that he did his own
will, the other redeemed us in himself, in that he fulfilled not his own will,
but the will of Him who sent him. For there is one God, and one media-
tor between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.”? And from this cen-
episcopi non solum sacrilegi, sed fatui judi- quasi preesentem viventemque prophetam
candi, qui rem yilissimam et cineres disso- cernerent. susceperunt.
lutos in serico et vase aureo portaverunt ? 1Jn causa duorum hominum, quorum
Stulti omnium ecelesiarum populi, qui oc- per unum venumdati sumus sub peccato,
currerunt sanctis reliquiis, et tanta letitia, per alteram redimimur a peccatis; quorum
©
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. TAT
Ψ
tral point of the Western system of faith may also have proceeded the
reiction of the Christian consciousness in purifying the Christian church by
means of the German reformation. So it was not the spirit of the Orien-
tal, but that of the Western church, which alone could give birth to such an
event.
P. 351, line 18th from the bottom. Thus foisting into, or implying in,
the Bible, what really was not there. | But it is evident also, how, with the
intention of thus showing the highest reverence for the sacred writings, by
regarding everything they contain as alike divine, and everywhere looking
in them for mysteries of divine revelation, men were driven, in applying
these principles to particular cases, to sacrifice that true respect for the
scriptures which is only to be preserved by inquiring honestly into their
true meaning and contents ; and we are here reminded of what we observed
proceeding from the same cause in the period previous to this, viz. a ten-
dency to convert the historical portions of scripture into myths. »
P. 352. As was the case, for instance, with Jerome, Theodore of Mopsu-
estia, and Chrysostom.| Thus Theodore of Mopsuestia distinguishes the
principle of actuation by the Holy Spirit, which is always one and the
same, from the diversity of its forms of manifestation, which is conditioned
on the different ends to be attained. “It was—says he—one and the
same Spirit who communicated his grace to those that were accounted wor-
thy of receiving such influences; but the effects were manifold, according
to the necessities of each particular case” —in proof of which he cites
2 Corinth. 4: 13.1. The retirement of all consciousness of self and of the
outward world — the ecstatic state — he explains as owing to the necessary
abstraction of the mind from present and temporal things in order to be
prepared for receiving the revelation of divine realites.? “ For — says
he — if we cannot fitly receive the instructions of our teachers, unless our
minds are wholly withdrawn from all other subjects, and are intent on that
which is taught, then how could those men receive such exalted revelations
without calling away their thoughts from present things at the time of
those revelations?” *® He attributes it to the essential character of an ex-
tasy of this sort, that the subject-matter of the divine revelation should be
presented in the form of a voice heard, or of a vision to the mental percep-
tion of him who received the revelation.*
That erroneous view of the Bible as a book absolutely divine —a mere
codex of divine revelation — made many unwilling to receive the epistle to
Philemon into the canon of the New Testament, because everything in this
was only human —no trace of divine revelation seemed to be found in this
ille nos in se perdidit, faciendo voluntatem
αὐτοὺς ταῖς ἑννοίαις πόῤῥω που τῆς παρούσης
suam, non ejus a quo factus est ; iste nos in
καταστάσεως γεγονότας, οὕτω δυνηϑῆναι τῇ
se salvos’ fecit, non faciendo voluntatem
suam, sed ejus, a quo missus est; in horum
ergo duorum hominum causa proprie fides
Christiana consistit. Unus est enim Deus,
et unus mediator Dei et hominum, homo
Christus Jesus. De peccato originali, § 28.
1 Πολύτροποι δὲ καὶ κατὰ τὴν χρείαν ἐνεγί-
vovto αὐτοῖς αἱ ἐνέργειαι, ha’ ἃς τὴν ἀποκά-
λυψιν ἐδέχοντο τῶν ἀναγκαίων. Commentar.
in Naum. ec. 1,in Wegnern Theodori que
supersunt omnia, vol. I. Berolin. 1834, p.
397.
2 Ἐκστάσει ἅπαντες ὡς εἰκὸς τῶν ἀποῤῥη-
τοτέρων ἐδέχοντο τὴν γνῶσιν, ἐπείπερ ἐχρὴν
τῶν δεικνυμένων ϑεωρίᾳ προσανέχειν μόνῃ.
L. c. p. 397.
8 Μὴ τῷ λογισμῷ πρότερον κατὰ τὸν τῆς
ϑεωρίας καίρον ἐξισταμένοις τῶν παρόντῶν ;
4 ΤῊς διδασκαλία τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος,
ὥστε δοκεῖν αὐτοὺς ὥσπερ τινὸς λαλοῦντος
ἀκούειν: ἔστι δὲ ὅτι καὶ τινα ὁπτασίαν ὁρῶντες
per’ ἐκείνης ἤκουον τῶν λεγομένων. Thus he
explains the vision of Peter in the Acts,
the vision of John the Baptist at the bap-
tism of Christ. See the fragment in the
Catena to John published by the Jesuit
Corderius.
748 NOTES AND REMARKS
epistle.1 Many falsely applied the correct distinction between the divine
and the human elements in the inspiration of the Apostles by the Holy
Spirit, making along with this correct distinction a wrong separation, and
failing to trace the organic relation between the two. The Apostles — said
they — did not speak always and all things so, as that Christ spake in
them ; for human weakness could not have endured the continuous indwell-
ing of the Holy Spirit. Everything connected with the gratifying of
earthly wants, as eating and drinking, was certainly excluded. The remark
of St. Paul, Gal. 2: 20, that it was not he that lived, but Christ lived in
him, did not admit of being applied to everything. So, too, the prophets,
after having uttered their predictions, returned again to the ordinary state
of consciousness and were like other men. Christ excepted, the Holy
Spirit abode with no one at all times.? Jerome, in opposition to such,
refers to the inseparable connection of the divine and human elements in
Christianity ; and with still greater clearness, Chrysostom unfolds the same
argument: “ If one lives — says he — in a spiritual manner, the mode of
his appearance, his demeanor and walk, his mode of speech, and, in a
word, everything about him, will profit those who contemplate it.” ?
The Antiochian school was also led, by its peculiar exegetical bent, to
another mode of apprehending the relation of the Old to the New Testa-
ment. While by the allegorizing method of interpretation it was easy to
introduce the whole doctrine of the New Testament into the Old, the An-
tiochians were impelled by their peculiar bent and their hermeneutical prin-
ciples, to inquire, what the Old Testament writers, under those determinate
historical conditions and from their own peculiar points of view, consciously
meant to say. But at the same time they recognized also the higher
spirit, which pervades the entire Old ‘Testament, — the ideas which pointed
beyond the Old Testament and into the New. Hence they distinguished
the ideal from the real historically conditioned element in the Old Tes-
tament scriptures ; the idea lying at the ground of the consciousness of the
writers enlightened by the Holy Spirit, and filling their minds, which had
found its realization in Christ, and which after its realization had first been
unfolded to a clearer consciousness, from the peculiar form presented by
the circumstances of the times, in which they had apprehended this idea.
They separated and held apart, what the prophets meant to say at their
own peculiar historical point of view, and what the Spirit of God, which
actuated them, aimed at through them. Thus they distinguished a conscious
and an unconscious prophecy ; and by means of their distinctions, equal
justice could be done to faith and to knowledge, and the antagonism recon-
eiled betwixt the philologico-historical, and the religious points of view.
The object already aimed at, as we endeavored to show in the first volume,
by many among the Gnostics, was expressed and unfolded by the Antioch-
ians with a clearer scientific consciousness. Thus, for example, says Theo-
dore of Mopsuestia: “ Many of the wonderful things that happened,
whether to the people at large or to those who were chosen for some par-
ticular end, the Holy Scriptures express, so far as it concerns them, hyper-
1 The words in Chrysostom, Argumen-
tum in ep. ad Philemon. T. XI. f. 772:
Περιττὸν εἷναι τὸ καὶ ταύτην προσκεῖσϑαι
spiritus ferre potuisset. Excepto Domino
nostro Jesu Christo, in nullo sanctum spiri-
tum permansisse. Hier. pref. ad Philemon.
τὴν ἐπιστολὴν, εἴγε ὑπὲρ πράγματος μικροῦ
ἠξίωσεν, ὑπὲρ ἑνὸς ἀνδρός.
2Non semper apostolum, nec omnia
Christo in se loquenti dixisse, quia nec
humana imbecillitas unum tenorem sancti
a
ed. Vallarsi, p. 741, 742.
8 Ὅταν τις πνευματικῶς ζῇ, Kal σχηματα
καὶ βαδίσματα καὶ ρήματα καὶ πραγματα τοῦ
τοιούτου καὶ παντα ἁπλῶς τοὺς ἀκούοντας
ὠφελεῖ. Lc. f. 778.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 149
bolically ; and, to a casual glance, the letter seems here to possess no truth.
But such things are found to be true, when they are applied to the Lord
Jesus Christ himself; who, as he in all respects made an end to the shadow
.of the law, and substituted in its place the truth which answers to it, so
therefore exhibits to view the truth of such expressions.” 1 The promise
given to Abraham, that in him and his seed all the nations of the earth
should be blessed, referred in its literal meaning to his bodily posterity ;
but in reality and truth to Christ, through whom the nations were blessed
in the true sense.* In like manner he explains the promises given to Da-
vid respecting the kingdom which was to proceed from his house, in a two-
fold manner.* Hence Theodore, in explaining the citations from the Old
Testament into the New, could distinguish the sense of the passages in the
original connection of the Old Testament, and the application made of
them by the Apostles.* Looking separately at the different stages in the
evolution of revealed religion, he affirmed that, in the Old Testament only,
the unity of God, but not the trinity was as yet revealed.® He thought
this would be sufficiently apparent, even from the fact that the Apostles,
after having lived for so long a time in familiar intercourse with Christ,
were still ignorant of the higher sense in which he was the Son of God,
but had denominated him the Son of God only in the sense in which men
had been previously wont to understand the phrase, as indicating that he
had been privileged with enjoying a peculiar union with God.®
P. 355. At length he was fully convinced that Manicheism was a delu-
ston.] Yet he was already sufficiently master of the system to adjust eve-
rything according to the principles of the Manichean dualism. He com-
posed a work on taste considered from this point of view, his tract De
apto et pulchro, dedicated to Hierius, a Roman rhetorician, in which he
places the opposition between good and evil beside that of the beautiful
and the deformed; and endeavored to trace everywhere, in the spiritual
and moral, as in the natural world, the same dualism betwixt the monad
and the dyad.
P. 358. That divine things must be incorporated with the life and affec-
tions, before we can be capable of an intellectual knowledge of them.) ‘Vhat
the understanding and knowledge of divine things presupposed, and flowed
from, self-surrendering love, —as he says —“ We must first love with a
perfect affection him whom we would know.” “ By the life—says he—
we make ourselves worthy of knowing what we believe.” It seemed clear
to him, that religious knowledge must proceed from the heart, that it was
only through the entire surrendering of the soul, that truth, satisfying to
the mind, could be found. “The love — says he — instilled by the Holy
Λέγει μὲν ὑπερβολικώτερον. ἐπ’ αὐτῶν
ἐκείνων ἡ γραφὴ, τῆς λέξεως κατὰ τὸ πρόχει-
ρον τὴν ἀλήϑειαν οὐκ ἐχούσης, εὑρίσκεται δὲ
ἀληϑὴ τὰ τοιαῦτα, ὅταν ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ κρίνηται
τοῦ δεσπότου Χριστοῦ, ὃς ἐν ἅπασι παύσας
μὲν τοῦ νόμου τὴν σκίαν, ἐπεισαγαγὼν δὲ τὴν
ἀλήϑειαν τὴν» οἰκείαν, εἰκότως καὶ τῶν φωνῶν
τῶν τοιούτων ἐπιδείκνυσι τὴν ἀλήϑειαν. See
the commentary on the Minor prophets, ed.
Weegnern. p. 612.
2 We may compare also what Theodore
says in his Comment. on Joel I. p. 156, ete.
8 See the Comment. on Micah, L. 6. p.
354.
4. g. Rom. 3: 12 in the above men-
VOL. II. ‘63°
tioned Comment. p. 501, and in many other
places.
5 See the above mentioned Comment. on
tlie Minor prophets.
5 Καὶ τούτου γε ἀπόδειξις abrapyne ἐκ τῶν
μακαρίων ἀπθστόλων γένοιτο ἂν, οἵ, ἐπὶ τῆς
τοῦ δεσπότου Χριστοῦ παρουσίας, ἐπὶ μακρῷ
τῷ XpOvO συγγεγονότες αὐτῷ, Χριστον μὲν
ὡμολόγουν, ἐγνωκότες διὰ πολλῆς διδώσκαλίας,
υἱὸν δὲ Kad’ ὃν ἔφην λόγον, ϑεοὺ οὐκ ἠπίσ-
ταντο, πλὴν ὅσον κατὰ οἰκείωσιν ἔλεγον ϑεοῦ
υἱὸν τὸν Χριστὸν κατὰ τὸ τῶν πρόσϑεν ἔϑος
ἁγίων τὲ καὶ δικαίων, In the above men-
tioned Comment. on the Minor prophets, p.
639.
160 NOTES AND REMARKS
Spirit, leads to the Son, that is, to the wisdom of God by which the Father
himself becomes known; for wisdom and truth can inno wise be found,
unless when sought after by all the powers of the soul. But when they are
sought after in a manner worthy of them, they cannot withdraw and con-
ceal themselves from those that love them. By love is the longing; by
love, the seeking; by love, the knocking; by love, the revealing; and
finally, by love, the persevering in that which is revealed.” ἢ
P. 580. The arch-deacon Athanasius.| Athanasius had been destined
and educated from his boyhood for the church; for the bishop Alexander
had long before had his eye turned upon him. The occasion was this. On
a festival in commemoration of the bishop Peter of Alexandria, who was
martyred in the year 311, Alexander observed a troop of boys at their
sports, imitating the rites of the church, in which Athanasius played the
part of bishop, and performed all the ceremonies customary at the baptism
of catechumens.* This appeared to the bishop a foretoken of what the
boy was destined one day tobecome. He was educated with reference to
the spiritual order, and became early distinguished for his Christian zeal,
his intellectual gifts, and progress in knowledge. When a young man, he
wrote the apologetical discourse which has already been mentioned. The
zeal and acuteness with which he defended the doctrine of the unity of
essence at the council of Nice, was the occasion of his being chosen, after the
death of Alexander, the latter’s successor in the bishopric, although he had
not yet arrived at the canonical age. But the opposition to his choice,
occasioned by his youth, nourished the germ of a future schism, * which was
the more disastrous on account of the opposition of views previously exist-
ing in this church.
P. 394, bottom. Were to be made Sons of God.] Like Sabellius, Mar-
cellus distinguished the divine essence in itself, the unity in repose, from
the different modes in which God revealed himself in creation and in the
redemption ;— the latter being designated by the names Logos and Holy
Spirit. The procession of the Logos from God, by virtue of that δραστικὴ
ἐνέργεια, appears to him the intermediate agency in producing the entire
ereation. Moreover, he spoke of an evolution of the monad to a triad, like
Sabellius ; and also made it the final end and issue of the redemption, that
all things should return back to the unity from which they had proceeded.*
We shall still further unfold his views of this which he contemplated as the
final consummation, in connection with what we have to say respecting his
doctrine of the person of Christ. Moreover, the phrase “three hypostases
or persons ” seemed to Marcellus to interfere with the correct apprehension
of the divine unity, and to mark too strongly the notion of separation.®
1 Si sapientia et veritas non totis animi ὅ The words of Pachomius in his letter
viribus concupiscatur, inveniri nullo pacto
potest. At siita queratur, ut dignum est,
subtrahere sese atque abscondere a suis
dilectoribus non potest. After quoting
Matth. 7: 7; 10: 26; Amore petitur,
amore queritur, amore pulsatur, amore
revelatur, amore denique in eo, quod reve-
latum fuerit, permanetur. L. c. ὁ 31.
2 We find no good reason for questioning
the truth of the much disputed story coming
from the members of Athanasius’ family.
Rufinus, from whom the account proceeds,
says: Sicuti ab his, quicum ipso vitam dux-
erant, accepimus. Hist. eccles. lib. 1. c. 14.
to the bishop Ammon are: “Awa τῷ κατασ-
τῆναι ᾿Αϑανάσιον ἐπίσκοπον, οὐκ ἀγαϑοὶ ἀν-
ὄρες αἰτιῶνται τὸ κρίμα τοῦ ϑεοῦ ἐπ’ αὐτῷ
γενόμενον, προβαλλόμενοι τῆς ἡλικίας αὐτοῦ
τὸ νέων καὶ σχίσαι τὴν ἐκκλησίαν τοῦ ϑεοῦ
σπουδάζοντες. See acta Sanctorum mens.
ae T. III. the Appendix to the 14 Mai.
70D:
4 Ἢ μονὰς ἀδιαίρετος οὖσα εἰς τριάδα πλα-
τύνεται. Eccles. theol. 1. III. ο. 4, f. 168.
5 No δυὸ διαιρούμενα πρόσωπα. Of Aste-
rius, he says: Οὐκ ὀρϑῶς οὐδὲ προσηκόντως
εἴρηκε τρεῖς ὑποστάσεις. LL. c.
751
P. 400. More decidedly pronounced in the character of Eunomius.|—
This strongly decided bent made him also an opponent of many elements
entering into the religious spirit of those times, which Arius had received ;
-— as for example, the veneration paid to martyrs and to relics... While
Arius, as we have remarked, had won veneration as an ascetic; Eunomius,
on the contrary, was opposed to the prevailing ascetic tendency. What to
others was a matter of special veneration in Basil of Caesarea, the marks
left by his austerities on his bodily appearance, was spoken of by him
oftentimes with rude expressions of contempt. He describes him as the man
who had grown haggard and pale by his much fasting, and traces to this
cause the asperity of his polemical writings. He seems to have described
the ascetie discipline as a course directed to no worthy object, and to have
praised anxiety for correctness of doctrine as a thing of vastly more im-
portance.®
P. 403. The old creed respecting the Logos.| While Arius taught that
God had granted to the Son the highest place in the creation, because by
his foreknowledge he saw that the Son, after his incarnation, would, through
the obedience to God which he showed in his conflicts, render himself wor-
thy of this place; Eunomius controverted this view, deriving everything
else from that nature of the Logos himself, which had been bestowed on
him by the will of the Father. “It was not by virtue of his obedience —
said he — that he became the Son of God; but because he was begotten,
as the Son and only begotten of the Father, he was obedient to the
Father in his words and works.” 4 .
Strictly connected with his whole mode of apprehending Christianity
stands that doctrine of his, which led him to fix an infinite chasm never
to be filled up, betwixt the supreme original. Being and the remaining
creation, and to affirm that God could not communieate his essence to
any creature.®
As Eunomius, the precursor of Socinus, suppressing, in his mechanical
supernaturalism of the understanding, the idea of a communication of the
divine life, must needs give the more prominence to the idea of a com-
munication of knowledge by means of an express revelation, the notion
of a revelation through the senses, it is proper here to notice the the-
ory broached by him of the supernatural origin of language; viz. that
God taught the first man to speak by outward lessons, gave him the
names of things.® ‘ps
FROM THE SECOND EDITION.
1 Hieronymus adv. Vigilantium, §9: Ri-
des de reliquiis martyrum, et cum auctore
hujus hereseos Eunomio ecclesiis Christi
calumniam struis.
2 He calls him: Φακοτρίβωνα στρατιώτην
(in allusion to-his meagre diet) καὶ ἅγιον
ἐξάγιστον: ὑπὸ νηστείας δὲ ὠχρεῶντα καὶ ὑπὸ
πικρίας φονῶντα. Vid. Gregor. Nyssen. 6.
Eunom. lib. I. T. ΤΙ. f. 291.
8 Though no absolute reliance can be
placed on the words of Gregory of Nyssa,
yet there is doubtless some truth at bottom,
when, comparing Eunomius with that pro-
moter of ascetic austerities, Basil, he says
of him: Κελεύοντος μὴ παρέχειν πράγματα
τῇ φύσει πρὸς τὸ δοκοῦν διὰ τῶν τοῦ σώματος
ὀρέξεων προϊούσῃ μηδὲ ἀντιβαίνειν ταῖς ἡδο-
ναῖς. μηδὲ ακριβολογεῖσϑαι περὶ τὴν τοιαύτην
τοῦ βίου σπουδῆν. Οὐδὲ γὰρ εἶναι τινα βλά-
βην ψυχῆς διὰ τῶν τοιούτων συνισταμένην,
ἀλλὰ μόνην ἀρκεῖν τῷ ἀνϑρώπῳ τὴν αἱρητικὴν
πίστιν πρὸς τελειότητα. 1,. ο. f. 306.
4 Μόνος ὁ υἱὸς τῇ τοῦ πατρος ἐνεργείᾳ συσ-
τὰς ἀκοινώνητον.
5 Concerning God: OD κοινωνὸν ἔχων τῆς
ϑεότητος, od μερίστην τῆς δόξης, ob σύγκληρον
τῆς ἐξουσίας, οὐ σύνϑρονον τῆς βασιλείας.
Gregor. Nyss. orat. IT. ἢ. 440, and Eunomius’
confession of faith published by Basil in the
remarks on Socrates, l. V. ec. 10, f. 61, ed.
Mogunt.
6 In opposition to Basil, whom he accuses
of τῇ ἔξωϑεν φιλοσοφιᾳ κατακολουϑεῖν, καὶ
περικόπτειν τὴν τοῦ ϑεοῦ κηδεμονίαν. μὴ ὁμο-
λογοῦντα παρ᾽ ἐκείνου τὰς ὀνομασίας τελεῖσϑαι
τοῖς πράγμασι. Orat. XII. f. 768. 'Ἔπει-
δῆπερ οὐκ ἀπαναίνεται τὴν πρὸς τοὺς ἑαυτοῦ
ϑεράποντας ὁ ϑεὸς ὁμιλίαν, ἀκόλουϑόν ἐστιν
752 NOTES AND REMARKS
P. 414. By Basil's freedom of spirit and moderation.| A source of great
mischief, especially to the Oriental church, were the internal divisions that
had grown out of the attempts to promote union by force under the reign of
the emperor Constantine, the influence of which still continued to be felt.
It was easier to create confusion, than to restore things back again to their
natural order. By misunderstandings, by personal disputes about indi-
viduals to whom one or the other party were attached, schisms were
engendered which could not be so easily healed. It was a crisis, through
which the Oriental church was destined to pass from its hitherto distracted
state, from balancing between Arianism, Semi-Arianism, and the recogni-
tion of the trinitarian unity of essence, to union in the latter. Now here
there was special need of forbearance and wisdom, so as not to repel
those who were on the point of transition, and to meet the advances of
all those who gradually inclined to adopt the Homoousion. Basil, under
these circumstances, was distinguished no less for his constancy and firm-
ness in the contest with what was outward and foreign, than for his
zealous and prudent activity in striving to restore the peace of the
church. He said many things on this occasion, worthy of being remem-
bered at all times in similar crises. “This age—he writes—has much
that tends to the ruin of the church. Nowhere do we find edification
of the church, reformation of the fallen, sympathy with the weak, pro-
tection for the sound and healthy among the brethren. Nor, again, is
there any remedy for the malady which before prevailed, or means of pre-
vention against the threatening evils of the future. And, moreover, the
state of the church, generally, resembles an old garment, which may be
easily rent by the slightest cause, and can never again be the same firm
whole as it was At such a time it requires zeal and great caution to
be the author of any real good to the churches. But the good consists
in this, to reunite what has thus far been rent asunder. But this union
might be effected, if we were willing to accommodate ourselves to the
weak in matters where we can do no harm to men’s souls.”? Basil did
everything in his power to bring nearer together the Oriental and Western
churches, which had been separated by their different action in the case of
the schism between Meletius and Paulinus in Antioch — the Antiochian
Old and New city — and to gain the help of the Western church in behalf
of the Eastern. “ By your help—he wrote to the Christians of the
West —the true faith must be restored back to the East. It is now time
for you to show the East the thanks you owe her for the blessings you
have received, from her.”* His good intentions would have been better
realized, if he had been able to overcome the pride and obstinacy of such
Roman bishops as Damasus.*
P. 424. The Christian idea of creation was preserved against all con-
οἴεσϑαι αὐτὸν ἐξ ἀρχῆς τὰς προσφυεῖς τῷ
πράγματι τεϑεῖσϑαι προσηγορίας. 1,. c. f.
517.
1 Ὅλως ἔοικε λοιπὸν ἡ τῆς ἐκκλησίας κατάσ-
τασις ἱματίῳ παλαιῷ, ὑπὸ τῆς τυχούσης προ-
φάσεως ῥᾳδίως καταῤῥηγνυμένῳ, ὃ πρὸς τὴν
ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἰσχὺν ἐπανελϑεῖν πώλιν ἀδυνατεῖ.
2 Ἅνωσις 0 ἂν γένοιτο, εἰ βουληϑείημεν, ἐν
οἷς μηδὲν βλώπτομεν τὰς ψυχὰς, συμπερενεχ-
ϑῆναι τοῖς ἀσϑενεστέροις.
8'Qy ἐλαβέτε παρ᾽ αὐτῆς ἀγαϑῶν, τούτων
ἐν καιρῷ παρασχέσϑαι αὐτῇ τὴν ἀντίδωσιν.
Ep. 91 ad Valerian.
4 He himself says,in reference to the
qualifications requisite for him who would
undertake an embassy to Rome, where he is
speaking of a simple man, whom he de-
scribes as poorly fitted for a business of this
sort: Βὐγνώμονι μὲν ἀνδρὶ a δέσιμον αὐτοῦ
καὶ πολλοῦ ἀξίαν τὴν συντυχίαν, ὑψηλῷ δὲ
καὶ μετεώρῳ, ἄνω που καϑημένῳ. καὶ διὰ
τοῦτο ἀκούείν τῶν χαμόϑεν αὐτῷ τὴν ἀλήϑειαν
φϑεγγομένων μὴ δυναμένῳ, τί ἂν γένοιτο
ὄφελος τοῖς κοινοῖς παρὰ τῆς τοῦ τοιούτου ἀν-
ὅρος ὁμιλίας, ὁς ἀλλότριον ἔχει ϑωπείας ἀνελ-
evdépav τὸ ἦϑος; Ep. 215.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 753
fusion with the emanation-theory.| The Arians wished to show their
opponents, that the same argument which they employed to prove the eter-
nal generation of the Son, might serve also to prove a creation without
beginning. Athanasius said: “ We may not conceive of the paternity of
God as a thing contingent to Him ; since, in that case, we must needs repre-
sent him as subject to change. As certainly as it behooved him to be
Father, so certainly we can never conceive of him as being other than such.” 1
To this the Arians replied that, “on the same grounds, neither could we
ascribe a beginning to the creation of God.” But Athanasius could not
feel the force of this objection. He insisted here upon the distinction be-
tween what is produced outwardly by the will of God, and that which is
grounded in His essence. The conception of the former implies a begin-
ning, that of the latter excludes all beginning.? But the question why
God, when the power to create was ever with him, yet did not always
create, Athanasius repelled as a question of insane curiosity. And yet he
supposed a reason might be alleged why it could not be otherwise. To the
being of the creature, produced as it is from nothing, eternal existence is a
contradiction. But he did not consider, that the notion of a being with-
out temporal beginning and that of an eternal being are by no means iden-
tical, — that the idea of a becoming, having its ground in the dependence
on a highest cause, may be conceived to be without a beginning in time,
difficult as it unquestionably is for the consciousness, cramped and confined
by the limitations of time, to fix and hold fast such a conception.
The penetration of Augustin doubtless enabled him to discern the differ-
ence between a creaturely becoming without temporal beginning, and an
eternal, unconditioned, divine being. To him it was clear, that it is possi-
ble to suppose a spiritual world having no temporal beginning, and which
always existed, without at the same time putting it on the same level with
the only eternal one, or impinging on the doctrine of God as the almighty
creator ; because becoming, without a beginning, is not the same with eter-
nal being! Augustin, in his unbiassed reflections, became conscious of the
difficulties arising from the dependence of the intellect on the forms of
temporal intuition, ὃ and preferred rather to confess his ignorance, than to
assert anything arbitrarily. “I return back—says he—to that which
our Creator has been pleased to let us know; and confess that that tran-
scends my own faculties, which He has either permitted to be known in this
life by wiser men, or which He has reserved to be known first by the per-
fect in the life to come.”’ By this modest suspense he would furnish an
1 Διὰ τοῦτο del πατὴρ, Kal οὐκ ἐπιγέγονε TO
ϑεῷ τὸ πατὴρ, lva μὴ καὶ τρεπτὸς εἶναί νομισ-
ϑῆ εἰ γὰρ κάλον τὸ εἶναι αὐτὸν πατέρα, οὐκ
ἀεὶ δὲ ἣν πατὴρ, οὐκ ἀεὶ ἄρα τὸ καλὸν ἣν ἐν
αὐτῷ. Οταῖ. 1 ο. ο. Arian, § 28.
2 Τὸ ποίημα ἔξωϑεν τοῦ ποιοῦντός ἐστιν" ὁ
δὲ υἱὸς ἴδιον τῆς οὐσίας ,γέννημά ἐστι διὸ καὶ
τὸ μὲν ποίημα οὐκ ἀνάγκη ἀεὶ εἶναι. ὅτε yap
βούλεται ὁ δημιουργὸς, ἐργάζεται. "Τὸ δὲ yév-
νημα οὐ βουλήσει ὑπόκειται, ἀλλὰ τῆς οὐσίας
ἐστὶν ἰδιότης. L. ο. ο. 29.
3 “Iva δὲ κἄν duvdpov τινα λογισμὸν εὐ-
ρόντες μὴ σιωπήῆσωμεν, ἀκουέτωσαν, ὅτι εἰ καὶ
τῷ ϑεῷ δυνατὸν ἀεὶ ποιεῖν, ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ ηδύνατο
τὰ γεννητὰ ἀΐδια εἶναι, ἐξ οὐκ ὄντων γὰρ ἐστι
καὶ οὐκ ἣν πριν γένηται. Τὰ δὲ οὐκ ὄντα
πρὶν γένηται, πῶς ἠδύνατο συνυπάρχειν τῷ
ἀεὶ ὄντι ϑεῶ ;
4 ἘΠ si semper fuerunt, (angeli,) creati
sunt, nec si semper fuerunt, ideo creatori
cozterni sunt. Ille enim semper fuit sxter-
nitate immutabili, isti autem facti sunt; sed
ideo semper fuisse dicuntur, qui omni tem-
pore fuerunt, sine quibus tempora nullo
modo esse potuerunt. Tempus autem, quo-
niam mutabilitate transeurrit, xternitati im-
mutabili non potest esse coxternum. De
civitate Dei, 1. XII. ¢. 15, § 2.
5 Augustin, like Kant at a later period,
recognized the same antinomies in respect of
space and time. As infinita spatia temporis,
so infinita spatia locorum. L.c. 1. XI. ¢. 5.
ὁ Vereor ne facilius judicer affirmare quod
nescio, quam docere quod scio. 1. 6.1. XIL
ec. 15, §3.
7 Redeo igitur ad id quod Creator noster
@>
NOTES AND REMARKS “3 Ff &
RN
example to his readers, that they might not suppose all questions could be
answered. This self-restraint appeared to him to be the necessary condi-
tion of all true progress. ‘ For — says he —if the child is nourished in
proportion to his powers, as he grows he will become capable of receiving
more ; but if he receives more than he can bear, he will perish before he
can grow up.” }
in such things, was opposed to that narrow bent of faith which disdainfully
repelled the speculative need. “ Behold —says he in his confessions —
to him who asks — What did God do before he created heaven and earth ?
I answer not as one would who might wish to evade the force of such a
question by a sarcasm —he was preparing the hell of those who too
curiously pry into high mysteries. Rather would I simply answer, I do not
know, in respect. to “what I do not know, than sneer at those who i nee
into high things, or approve of a false answer.’
As Augustin guarded against the error of conceiving God’s work of cre-
ation as a temporal act, so, too, he was led by this means and by his view of
the world, proceeding out of a deep religious consciousness, to a more pro-
found way of conceiving the relation between the divine creation and the
preservation and government of the world, and between the natural and
the supernatural. It was he who first after Origen, developed still farther
the notion of a miracle; and in his writings we may find the germ of all
the profound reniarks on this subject by the scholastic writers of the thir-
teenth century. Every thing in the course of the world’s history is,
according to Augustin, the realization of that which from eternity was deter-
mined in the divine ideas as a connected whole. In time, that is realized
only in a gradual manner, which in the divine ideas subsists at once. In
this view, no new thing can take place, which had not been prefigured in
this ideal plan of the world. Furthermore, in the powers and laws which
God originally laid in the creation, is included everything which God causes
to proceed from these powers and laws in the whole course of nature,
either with or without the agency of men, who serve as his instruments.
“Tn one way — says Augustin —all things subsist in the Word of God,
where they subsist, not as things created, but as eternal;— in another, in
the elements of the world, where whatever is destined to become, was
created at once potentially ; — and in another, in things which are created —
after the causes, which were created at once —not at once, but each in its own
time.” 2 He combatted the opinion which some entertained, that the world
having once been created by God, everything else is produced by the world
itself, as God has ordained and commanded, though God himself does
nothing more. Against this theory he adduces the words in John, 5: 17,
and adds: “ Let us believe then, or if we are capable of it, know, that God
_ continues to work, down to the present moment; so that if his agency
should be removed from created things, all would perish.”*® Now if we
contemplate the ideal plan of the world just described, we shall find every-
184
But Augustin, while he exhorted to humility of knowledge
scire nos voluit; illa vero, qux vel sapien-
tioribus in hac vita scire permisit, vel omni-
no perfectis in alia vita scienda servavit,
ultra vires meas esse confiteor.
1 Si enim pro viribus suis alatur infans,
fiet, ut crescendo plus capiat; si autem vires
suz capacitatis excedat, deficiet, antiquam
creseat. L.c.
2 Hee aliter in verbo Dei, ubi ista non
facta, sed eterna sunt; aliter in elementis
mundi, ubi omnia simul facta futura sunt:
aliter in rebus, que, secundum causas simul
creatas, non jam simul, sed suo queeque
tempora, creantur. De Genesi ad literam,
ΟῚ Ὁ 17:
3 Sie ergo eredamus, vel si possumus
etiam intelligamus, usque nunc operari De-
um, ut si conditis ab eo rebus operatio ejus
subtrahatur, intercident. Confess. 1]. V.§ 40.
;
)
Ee
.
+ a ok FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 755
s+ 4 ᾿
‘thing connected together. What is called miraculous, and what takes
place according to the ordinary course of nature, are grounded alike in
this plan. Allis alike the work of God, without whose continued creative
agency nothing can subsist. Yet everything which God does, does not
stand related after the same manner to the powers implanted in nature at
the creation. It is here necessary to distinguish that which God causes to
Spring out of these powers themselves, and “that which presupposes super-
κ᾽ ὩΣ divine influences and powers. This constitutes the difference
etween the natural and supernatural. But still the supernatural is not
γε that contradicts the course of nature: for by virtue of God’s all-
embracing wisdom, of the harmonious connection of all that God does, the
nature of “everything which was to come to pass, even under new, super-
added influences, had been foreordained. We will present what has here
been unfo din the words of Augustin himself. The elements of this
corporeal world have their determinate powers and properties ; that is,
what each can do and cannot do, what can be produced or cannot be pro-
duced by means of each. From these original causes of things proceeds
forth, in its own time, all that is produced. But it is in the power of the
Creator to make out of all this, in a way transcending the ordinary course
of nature, something other than what has its ground in those original
causes which contain within them the seminal principles of all things.- Yet
nothing other than what is still included within those causes as_ possible,
that is, possible to be produced from them by the divine Being.* For his
almighty power is not an arbitrary attribute, but the almighty power of
Wisdom ; and out of each thing he brings, in its time, what he designed
already at the creation to be able to bring out of it.’? “ God, the creator
of all nature — says Augustin — does nothing contrary to nature; for that
must be conformable to the nature of each ‘thing, which He does, from
whom the whole measure, number, and order of nature proceeds. We say,
in no unbefitting manner, that God does something contrary to nature,
when it is contrary to the course of nature known to us. This ordinary
course of nature, which is known to us, is what we are wont also to call
nature; and when God does anything that is contrary to this, we call it a
miracle. But against that highest law of nature, which is as far exalted
above the knowledge of the godless as it is of the weak, God no more acts
than he acts against himself.” ὃ
Thus Augustin discerns the immediate ageney of God in all nature,
and looks upon miracles only as events suited to arouse the attention
of those who pay no heed to the agency of God which lies hidden
1 Super hunc autem motum cursumque placuerit, quod tempore congruat. vel,
rerum naturalem, potestas Creatoris habet VI. § 25. ζ
apud se posse de his omnibus facere aliud, 3 Deus, creator et conditor omnium natu-
quam eorum quasi seminales rationes ha- rarum, nihil contra naturam facit: id enim
bent; non tamen id quod non in iis posuit, erit cuique rei naturale, quod ille fecerit, a
ut de his fieri vel ab ipso possit. De Genesi quo est omnis modus, numerus, ordo natu-
ad literam, 1. LX. § 32. re. Sed contra naturam non incongrue
2 Neque enim potentia temeraria, sed dicimus aliquid Dens facere. quod facit con-
sapienti virtute, omnipotens est, et hoc de tra id quod novimus in natura. Hane
unaquaque re in tempore suo facit, quod etiam enim appellamus naturam, cognitum
ante in ea fecit, ut possit. L.c. Hence he nobis cursum solitumque nature; contra
says, that the causales rationes quas Deus quem Deus cum aliquid facit, mirabilia
mundo indidit, sint ad utramque modum = nominantur. Contra illam vero summam
habiles create; sive ad istum quo usitatis- nature legem, a notitia remotam sive impi-
sime temporalia transcurrunt sive ad illum orum sive adhue infirmorum, tam Dens
quo rara et mirabilia fiunt, sicut Deo facere nullo modo facit, qaam contra se ipsum non
facit. Contra Faustum, l. XX V1. ¢. 3
756 NOTES AND REMARKS
under the ordinary course of nature. “ Who —says he —can contemplate
the work of God by which+this whole world is governed, and not be
struck and overwhelmed with the wonderful? If he contemplates the
power of life in a single seed-kernel, it is a great thing, calculated to
fill the contemplator with amazement. But because men direct their
attention to other things and give no heed to God’s works, in which they
should daily find occasion for praising God, He has, as it were, kept
certain things of a more unusual character in reserve, for the purpose of
awakening men from their sleep to the worship of Himself by “ miracu-
lous signs.”
P. 426. But here, according to his own theory—.]| It may be that
Marcellus, whose theological interest was wholly absorbed in the doc-
trine of the Logos, did not turn his reflections on this point. At all
events, if he had proceeded still further to unfold his own thoughts into clear
consciousness, he must have been led to some such theory as the Sabellian.
It is important to take particular notice of this contrariety in the system
of Marcellus. On the one hand, by transferring all the passages of the
New Testament relating to Christ, which seemed to him not to be decided
enough on the absoluteness of the Logos, to the person of Christ formed by
the ἐνέργεια δραστική of the Logos, he must have been led to ascribe to
this latter the highest place in the creation. This, in fact, harmonized well
also with the view he took of the end and aim of redemption; viz. that
this appropriation of human nature by the Logos was designed for the
purpose of giving man the victory over Satan, who had deceived and over-
come him; to glorify human nature by exalting it to a divine life, and to
bestow on it the highest dignity.1 But, on the other hand, his interest for
the Logos-doctrine, which suppressed every other, forced him to convert
Christ, as man, into a mere instrument or means, which of itself must dis-
appear as soon as the end should be attained which he was to subserve ; and
accordingly he must have sunk the humanity of Christ to the nature of a mere
accident, of which the Logos would in the end be wholly disencumbered.
If later theologians fell into labored and tortuous explanations of the
epistle to the Colossians, because they were unwilling to find there the doc-
trine of Christ’s divinity, Marcellus was driven to similar tortuous inter-
pretations by an interest of the opposite kind; namely, that he might not
be required to suppose anything whereby the absoluteness of the Logos
might seem to him capable of being impaired. Because he believed that
by the image of the invisible God, the first-born of every creature, it was
impossible to understand the Logos in himself, therefore the man formed
by the δραστικὴ ἐνέργεια of the Logos must be understood by these words.
And hence by the creation here ascribed to him, could be meant only the
new spiritual creation, brought forth by Christ ; and this in its effects must
be extended also to the higher spirits, this being implied in the fact that
Christ after his resurrection was exalted above all the rest of creation.
The first-born is Christ considered simply as the first new man, the centre
of the whole creation, the end of all, by whom the unity of the creation
was to be restored after the subjection of everything evil.” Accordingly,
1JIn expounding John 12: 28, Marcellus ϑρωπον, αὐτὸν αὖϑις νικῆσαι τὸν διώβολον
says: Ἵνα δι ὑπερβολὴν τῆς φιλανϑρωπίας παρασκευάσῃ διὰ τοῦτο avelAnoe TOV ᾿ἀνύρω-
ἐν τῇ μετὰ τὴν ἀνάστασιν τῆς σαρκὸς δευτέρᾳ Tov, ἵνα ἀκολούϑως τούτον ἀπαρχὴν τῆς ἐξου-
δόξῃ τὸν πρότερον ϑνητὸν ἄνϑρωπον ἀϑώνα- σίας παραλαβεῖν παρασκευάσῃ. Euseb. 6.
τον ἀπεργάσηται, καὶ τοσαύτῃ αὐτὸν δοξάσῃ Marcell. Ancyran. 1.11. f. 48, 49.
δόξῃ, ὥστε μὴ μόνον αὐτὸν τῆς πρωτέρας ἀπαλ-
λαγῆναι δουλείας, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῆς ὑπὲρ ἄνϑρωπον
ἀξιωϑῆναι δόξης ---- and afterwards: Ἵνα ὑπὸ
τοῦ διαβόλου ἀπατηϑέντα πρύτερον τὸν ἄν-
2 Πρωτότοκον εἶναι τὸν πρῶτον καινὸν ὧν-
ϑρωπον, εἰς ὃν τὰ πάντα ἀνακεφαλαιώσασϑαι
ἐβουλήϑη ὁ ϑεός. ᾿Ακούεις, ὅπως οὐ μόνον
ταῦτα, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ προὐπάρχοντα ἔν τε οὐοα-
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. TST
he referred also to this new creation produced by Christ, the words in
Proverbs 8 : 22, 28 ; and in connection with this he brings what Paul had
said, “ Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus
.Christ,” — understanding this as referring to the predetermination of that
which was to constitute the foundation of the kingdom of God.! But as in
his mind the personal Christ stood far in the back-ground, compared with
the idea of the Logos —as in his view the whole depended simply on the
transient moment when the δραστικὴ ἐνέργεια of the Logos animated the
body —the question presents itself to him: For what purpose is this to
continue when the end, the perfect redemption, the complete victory over
the kingdom of evil, shall have been attained, — when the redeemed shall,
after the resurrection, have attained to the perfect enjoyment of blessed-
ness? The Logos, in fact, took into union with himself the σάρξ which was
alien from him, only in order that that end might be attained. Mar-
cellus appeals to the declaration of Christ : “ The flesh profiteth nothing — it
is the spirit that quickeneth.” How then, he argued, should the flesh, that
profiteth nothing, remain through all eternity united with the Logos, — how
should the servant-form, which he assumed, continue to abide with him
evermore ?? Thus by his one-sided Logos-doctrine he was driven to the con-
clusion, that the Logos would finally, when the end had been attained, once
more emerge from that particular form of manifestation by means of the
caps — would cast aside the human envelope — that the particular kingdom
of Christ would then come to an end, and only the universal kingdom, the
universal being, and the universal agency of the Logos existing with the
Father, continue to remain. In proof of this he adduced 1 Corinth. 15:
28, and the word “ until” in Ps. 110: 1.8
It is made evident, how far the true point of moment in the doctrine of
redemption was lowered by the tendency of Marcellus ; how the separating
gulf betwixt God and the creature was once more obtiuded to view and
the significance of Christ’s personality lost sight of, when we find him say-
ing: * Should any one, however, maintain, that the "human flesh was worthy
of the Logos, inasmuch as the latter made it immortal by the resurrection,
let him know, that not everything which is immortal is on that account
worthy of God: for God is greater than immortality itself, — He, who by
his will can make even that which has no existence immortal. But that
everything immortal is not therefore worthy of being taken into union with
God, is evident from this, that the angels, though immortal, do not therefore
come any nearer to unity with God.” 4 Still, however, he must have been
sensible into what straits he was driven by the position which he assumed ;
in what conflict he became involved with the scriptural doctrine, which he
desired to hold fast. The question met him: What was to become then of
the σάρξ thus exalted to immortality? “The answer to this question —
says he — transcends our knowledge. We see only through a glass darkly ;
νοῖς καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς ἐν αὐτῷ κατὰ τὴν καινὴν
κτίσιν ἐκτίσϑαι αίνει. C. Marcell. 1. 11.
f. 44. :
1 Θεμέλιον μὲν τοῦτον ὀνομάζων τὴν κατὰ
σάρκα αὐτοῦ νων οἰκονομίαν. 1,.
c. f. 45.
2 Πῶς ἐγχωρεῖ τὴν ἐκ γῆς τε οὖσαν καὶ
μηδὲν ὠφελοῦσαν [σάρκα] ἐν τοῖς μέλλυυσιν
αἰῶσιν αὐτῷ λυσιτελοῦσαν συνεῖναι τῷ λογῳ;
πῶς ἔδει τὴν τοῦ δούλου μορφὴν ἣν ἀνείληφεν
ὁ λόγος, μορφὴν οὖσαν δούλου, συνεῖναι τῷ
λόγῳ; C. Marcell. 1. II. f. 44.
64
VOL. I.
8 Οὐκοῦν ὅρον τινὰ δοκεῖ ἔχειν ἡ κατὰ ἄν-
ϑρωπον αὐτοῦ οἰκονομία τε καὶ βασιλεία. Τ,
c. f. 51,
4 Ὅτι ob πᾶν ὅπερ ἀϑάνατον, τοῦτο ἄξιον
ϑεοῦ" μείζων γὰρ καὶ αὐτῆς τῆς ἀϑανασίας ὁ
ede, Sr τῇ ἑαυτοῦ BovaAjoe καὶ τὰ μὴ ὄντα
ἀϑάνατα ποιεῖν δυνάμενος. Ἔτι δὲ οὐ πᾶν
τὸ ἀϑάνατον ἑνῶσϑαι ϑεῷ ἄξιον δῆλον, ὅτι
καὶ ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀρχὰς καὶ ἐξουσίας καὶ ἀγγέλους,
ἀϑανάτους ὄντας, μηδὲν διαφορεῖν τῇ ἑνότητε
τοῦ ϑεοῦ. 1,. c. f. 52.
758 NOTES AND REMARKS
our knowledge is but in part. We shall come to the knowledge of this only
when we see face to face. Question me not, then, on matters about which
I have obtained no distinct knowledge from holy writ. I cannot there-
fore say anything definite respecting this divine σάρξ united with the Logos.
But then I believe the holy scriptures, that there is one God, and his
Logos, who proceeded from the Father, that through him all things might
exist; but who will, after the general restoration, subject himself to God
and the Father, who has subjected all things to him, that so the Logos may
be in God, as he was also before.” ἢ
P. 426. But the more lcgical Photinus —.] Photinus, bishop of Sir-
mium in Lower Pannonia, and the scholar of Marcellus, in still farther
unfolding the doctrine he had received from his master, passed beyond
the limits which the latter was disposed to fix. He could not rest satis-
fied with the indefinite, uncertain manner in which Marcellus expressed
himself respecting the humanity of Christ. In striving to resolve the
contradiction which his predecessor had left standing, he was pushed on
further. While Marcellus had started with no other interest than that in
behalf of the Logos-doctrine, and was led along to his own peculiar theory
respecting the nature and person of Christ only by his wish to hold this
fast, Photinus, on the other hand, directed his attention to the whole doc-
trine concerning the person of Christ, and sought to frame to himself an
adequate conception of this. Thus he came to a scheme altogether akin
to Sabellianism. “
He considered the Logos to be the divine reason, either the thinking
reason hidden in God, or the reason revealing itself outwardly, and
operative, the λόγος ἐνδιάθετος or προφορικός. The name Son of God he
would not apply to the Logos, but only to the Christ who appeared in time. |
It was not till the time when he was born of the Virgin Mary, that, accord-
ing to Photinus, the existence of the Son of God began. Before, he ex-
isted only in the divine idea, in the divine predetermination. In this sense
he explained those passages of the Old Testament, which were understood
to speak of a preéxistence of the Messiah.’ Like Sabellius, he supposed
a certain radiation of the divine essence in the form of the Logos consti-
tuted the personality in Christ. He supposed the human personality pro-
ceeded from a certain hypostasis of the Logos. Hence he is represented
to have taught that the self-expanding essence of God constitutes the Son
of God, or that the expansion of the divine essence is to be styled the
Son.* Photinus also, after the same manner with Marcellus, taught that
the particular kingdom of Christ would come to an end, when the final
object of it should have been attained.» He would doubtless differ from
Marcellus, however, in this, that although he asserted a future termination
1C. Marcell. 1. IT. 1. 53.
2 The theses opposed by the first council
of Sirmium (A. D. 357) to the doctrines of
Photinus, are specially important as serving
to fix the character of these doctrines. We
find here the following formula: "Ez tig ἐν-
διώϑετον ἢ προφορικὸν λόγον λέγοι τὸν υἱὸν
τοῦ ϑεοῦ, ἀνάϑεμα ἔστω.
8 See Epiphan. heres. 51: Ὁ λόγος ἐν τῷ
πατρὶ ἣν, ἀλλ᾽ ἣν υἱός. On Daniel 7: 13—
Τοῦτο προκαταγγελτικῶς ἔλεγεν, οὐχ ὡς τοῦ
υἱοῦ ὑπάρχοντος, ἀλλα δὴ ὁ ἔμελλεν υἱὸς κα-
λεῖσϑαι μετὰ τὴν Μαρίαν, προχρηστικῶς τὰ
πάντα ἀναφέρεται εἰς αὐτὸν: ἀπαρχῆς δὲ οὔπω
ἦν, λόγος δὲ hv, καϑάπερ ἐν ἐμοὶ ὁ λόγος.
With this, too, agree the opposite positions
of the council of Sirmium.
4 The Sirmian anathema runs: "Ee τις
πλατυνομένην τὴν οὐσίαν τοῦ ϑεοῦ τὸν υἱὸν
λέγοι ποιεῖν, ἢ τὸν πλατυσμὸν τῆς οὐσίας αὐτοῦ
ονομάζει. To which belongs also the fol-
lowing: ’Ei τις τὸν ἀγέννητον ἢ μέρος αὐτοῦ
ἐκ Μαρίας λέγειν γεγεννῆσϑαι τολμᾷ.
5 The antithetic position in the Sirmian
confession of faith respecting Christ: Ov ἡ
βασιλεία, ἀκατώπαυστος οὗσα, διαμένει εἰς τοὺς
αἰῶνας ἀπείρους. ᾿Ἑσται γὰρ καϑεζόμενος ἐν
δεξιᾷ τοῦ πατρὸς, οὐ μόνον ἐν τῷ αἰῶνι τουτῶ.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν τῷ μέλλοντι.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 759
of the kingdom of Christ, yet he did not extend this also to the person-
ality of Christ formed by the radiation of the Logos, but attributed to
the latter an eternal duration. Had not this been so, he assuredly would
not have escaped from censure for so disparaging the dignity of Christ.
Moreover, it may be inferred from the antagonistic positions of the Sirmian
council, that he referred the names “ Holy Spirit” and “ Paraclete,” sim-
ply to the activity of God or of Christ.
P. 428, bottom. Jn the next place, it was his opinion—.]| Apollinaris
was no friend to a stiff and disconnected supranaturalism ; but he was for
having the supernatural so apprehended as to leave room for the recogni-
tion of nature in all its rights. The supernatural element must be con-
ceived as existing in perfect harmony with the natural. This principle is
expressed in the words: “ Nature is not disturbed by its Creator ;” by
which is meant, that God never brings about supernatural events in such
a way as to subvert the laws of nature; as to destroy the particular form
of an essence which has its ground in the laws of its nature. From this
the conclusion would follow, which Apollinaris himself deduces from his
principle in the same connection with the passage above cited, — that
God uses all beings as his instruments in a way corresponding to their
several natures; thus, for example, he employs rational beings, gifted with
formal freedom, in no such way as to destroy their peculiar nature as
free beings —in no such way as to supersede what distinguishes them
from beings governed by the necessary laws of nature. The important
consequences which follow from the principle here expressed, are suffi-
ciently evident.
P. 431. The lower and the higher principles in man’s nature.| Thus
Appollinaris supposed, — as it seemed to him necessary to do, in order to
recognize Christ as God-man, and the true unity in him, — that there is
but one nature in Christ, the divine nature become human; and but one
motion of the will corresponding thereto; and but one activity, as actuating
the entire life; for every thing in him, it is supposed, proceeded from the
immutable spirit as its moving principle ; just as in man, the entire life is
determined and guided by the presiding soul. In a letter to the emperor
Jovian, Apollinaris says: “ When the fulness of time was come, God sent
his Son, born of a woman, that he might be the Son of God,— God
according to the Spirit: the Son of man according tothe flesh; the one Son
— not two natures, one adorable nature, and another to which no adora-
tion is due; but one incarnate nature of the God Logos, to which, in its
union with the flesh, one adoration is due.”! The two natures, the
divine and the human, — he meant —are in him blended in one. He is to
be acknowledged as Lord in this one nature composed of the deity and the
humanity. In his work written against the bishop Diodore of Tarsus, he
says: “The instrument and that by which it is moved produces, by its
very nature, but one and the same action; and where the action is one,
there is also at the ground of it but one essence.”*® “Those persons would
make impossibilities possible, (bore a rock with the fi ger,) who suppose
that in Christ there were two spirits, a divine and ‘a human; ;‘* for if every
1 Ob δύο φύσεις τὸν Eva υἱὸν, μίαν προσκυ-
νητὴν καὶ μίαν ᾿ἀπροσκύνητην, ἀλλὰ μίαν
φύσιν τοῦ ϑεοῦ λόγου σεσαρκωμένην καὶ προσ-
κυνουμένην μετὰ τῆς σαρκὸς αὐτοῦ μιᾷ προσ-
κυνήσει.
VII. 1833, p. 16.
2 Μιᾷ συγκράτῳ τῇ φύσει ἄνϑρόκον. τὸν
κυρίον λέγομεν. τς c. p. 16.
aji scriptorum nova collectio, T.
8 ᾿Οργανὸν καὶ τὸ κοινοῦν μίαν πέφυκεν
ἀπυτελεῖν τὴν ἐνέργειαν. "Qe δὲ μία ἡ ἐνέρ-
yeta, μία καὶ ἡ οὐσία, μία ἄρα γέγονεν οὐσία
τοῦ λόγου καὶ τῆς σαρκός. Lc. p. 20.
4 Δακτύλῳ γλίφουσι πέτραν, οἱ δύο νόας
“ ἐπὶ Χριστοῦ δογματίζοντες.
760 NOTES AND REMARKS
spirit determines itself freely in accordance with its own peculiar nature,
it is impossible, that in one and the same subject there should be two
natures, combined together, willing opposite things.”* “As Paul nobly
declares : in God we live, move and have our being; so too the will of God,
through the Logos dwelling in the flesh, sufficed to move and animate that
flesh, the divine activity taking the place of the soul.” 2. « He maintained
that when two individual essences unite together, a neutral being is the
result ; asin the case of the mule, the properties of the ass and of the
horse are united, and as out of the mixture of two different colors results
a third. But nothing formed out of such a combination has the properties:
of two opposite kinds complete, but partially mixed. Such is the union
of God and man in Christ. He is therefore neither wholly man nor wholly.
God, but a mixture of God and man.” ὃ .
P. 431, second sentence on the page —a name which could not other-
wise be ascribed to him.| As Apollinaris supposed that the spirit properly
constitutes the man ; and as instead of the human spirit, he supposed the
divine, immutable spirit, the Logos in Christ;—so in this view of the
matter he might say, that the Logos was man before his appearance in
humanity, understanding in this sense those passages where Christ speaks of
his being with the Father before the creation. “The man Christ — says
he, in following this connection of ideas *— preéxisted ;— not as though
the spirit, that is God, was a different being from Christ himself, but so
that the Lord was the divine spirit in the nature of the God-man.® In this
way only is it possible to understand how he existed before his birth on
earth ; how he was before all things; was of the same race with God.” ®
Hence he says, Christ did not become man, but he became as man;—
namely, he was not of the same essence with man in the most exalted part
of his nature.’
P. 432. According to this connection of ideas —.| The Logos remains
still the immutable, infinite, omnipresent being ; and yet his activity is one
which is limited by the σάρξ. Also by virtue of the σάρξ animated by
him, he takes part in the passion.? This capacity of suffering in the σάρξ
passes over to the Logos, as the σάρξ receives the divine animating power
a
1 Ei yap πᾶς νοῦς αὐτοκράτωρ ἐστι ἰδικῷ
ϑελήματι κατὰ φύσιν κινούμενος, ἀδύνατόν
ἐστιν ἑνὰ καὶ τῷ αὐτῷ ὑποκειμένῳ δύο τοὺς
τἀναντία ϑέλοντας ἀλλῆλοις συνυπάρχειν.
Maji T. VII. p. 70.
2 Ἐπεὶ yap ἄριστα Παῦλος Bod, ἐν τῷ παν-
τοκράτορι ϑεῷ ζῶμεν καὶ κινούμεϑα καὶ ἐσμὲν,
ἤρκει καὶ μόνον τὸ αὐτοῦ ϑέλημα, διὰ ἐν TH
σάρκι σκηνώσαντος λόγου, πρὸς τὸ ταύτην ζωο-
ποιεῖν καὶ κινεῖν, ἀναπληρούσης τῆς ϑείας ἐν-
epyéiac τὸν τῆς ψυχῆς τόπον καὶ τοῦ ἀνϑρω-
πίνου νοός. L.c. p. 203.
8 Μεσότητες γίνονται ἱδιοτήτων διαφόρων
εἷς ἕν συνελχϑουσῶν, ὡς ἐν ἡμιόνῳ ἰδιότης ὄνου
καὶ ἵππου, καὶ ἐν γλαυκῷ χρώματι ἰδιότης
λευκοῦ καὶ μέλανος" ουδεμία de μεσότης ἑκατ-
Epac ἔχει τὰς ἀκρότητας ἐξ ὁλοκλήρου, ἀλλὰ
μερικῶς re μεσότης δὲ ϑεοῦ Kal
ἀνϑρώπων ἐν Χριστῷ οὐκ ἄρα οὔτε ἄνϑρωπος
ὅλος obre ϑέος, ἀλλὰ ϑεοῦ καὶ ἀνθρώπου
μίξις. 1,. 6. p. 310. ;
4 After having thus expounded the sense
which such expressions have in the con-
nection of ideas in Apollinaris, it is need-
less to enter at large into the refutation of
those arbitrary interpretations of his mean-
ing, which men have indulged in on specu-
lative grounds to which Apollinaris was
utterly a stranger. τ
5 Καὶ προὐπώρχει 6 ἄνϑρωπος Χριστος, οὐχ
ὡς ἑτέρου ὄντος παρ᾽ αὐτὸν τοῦ πνεύματος,
τοῦτ᾽ ἐστι τοῦ ϑεοῦ, ἀλλ᾽ ὡς τοῦ κυρίου ἐν τῇ
τοῦ ϑεοὺ ἀνθρώπου φύσει ϑείου πνεύματος
ὄντος. Gregor. Nyss. Antirrhetic. p. 149.
ὃ Προὐπάρχειν τῆς ἐν γῇ γεννήσεως, πρὸ
πάντων εἶναι, σύμφυλον εἷναι. L. ec. p. 191.
Ἰ Οὐκ ἄνϑρωπος, ἀλλ’ we ἄνϑρωπος, διότι
οὐχ ὁμοούσιος τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ κατὰ τὸ κυριώτα-
τον. Antirrhetic. p. 177. Hence the title
of the book refuted by Gregory of Nyssa:
᾿Απόδειξις περὶ τῆς ϑείας σαρκώσεως τῆς Ka?
ὁμοίωσιν ἀνθρώπου. 1,. ο. p. 126.
8 Respecting Christ’s relation to the
Father, he says: Διαιρῶν μὲν τὴν ἐνέργειαν
κατὰ σάρκα, ἐξισῶν δὲ κατὰ πνεῦμα, (the
divine essence, the animating spirit.) The
ἰσότης ἡ ἐν δυνάμει and the κατὰ σάρκα τῆς
ἐνεργείας διαίρεσις. LL. 6. p. 194.
9 The σὰρξ συνετέϑη πρὸς τὸ οὐρώνιον
ἡγεμονικὸν, ἐξοικειωϑείσα αὐτῷ κατὰ τὸ adn.
FROM THE SECOND EDITION. 761
of the Logos into itself. But how is it possible to conceive of any such
thing, except on the supposition that a personality distinct from the infinite
Logos proceeds from the influence which the Logos exercises on the oa?
And the idea of an intermediate being, which is neither wholly God nor
wholly man, would lead, in fact, toa theory of that very kind which Apol-
linaris was solicitous to avoid. It is difficult to form, from the fragments
which have come down to us, any clear idea of the manner in which Apol-
linaris would explain to himself the prayer of Christ, that if possible, the
cup of agony might pass from him. On the one hand, he considered this
as conclusive evidence, that He who was entering upon his sufferings distin-
guished his own will from that of the Almighty Father. On the other, he
maintained, against his adversaries, that this was not as they supposed, the
will of the man from the earth; but the will of the God who descended
from heaven.?, We can explain this only by supposing, that since Apollina-
ris ascribed to the Logos the capacity of suffering which was in the σάρξ,
accounting in this way for those words of the prayer, he considered himself
therefore warranted to find here a proof of suffering, and yet to attribute it
to the Logos himself, by whom the σάρξ was animated.
P. 442, third sentence. He has adopted them as his children.| “An
essential union — Theodore supposed — could truly subsist only between
beings the same in essence; not between those unlike in essence; for in the
latter case, there must be a union of elements differing in kind.” ὃ
P. 443. Share in all the honor, glory, and dominion belonging to himself. ]
It is owing to the union of the natures by the divine good pleasure — says
Theodore — that the same name is, by homonymy, given to both ; that they
partake of the same dominion, dignity, power; and that they are never
separated ; —by virtue of all which the two constitute one person, indeed
they are called one.” 4
P. 443. Middle. The human nature has been Biken tp into fellowship
with the divine.| “This kind of union— said he — keeps the two natures
unmixed and undivided ; both become thereby one person ;— there is one
will and one activity, and accordingly, one dominion.” ®
P. 447. Nestorius — belonged among the disciples of the Antiochian doc-
trine. | He was accustomed to oppose to the ἕνωσις κατ᾽ οὐσίαν, χατὰ φύσιν
to the ἕνωσις κατ᾽ εὐδοκίαν, κατὰ ϑέλησιν. The former appeared to him to
be ae to poumon sense, and irreconcilable with the immutability
of the divine ess mae
τικὸν ἑαυτῆς Kal λαβοῦσα τὸ ϑεῖον οἰκειωϑεν.
Maji T. VII. p. 301.
1’E: ἰσοσϑενὴς καὶ κοινωνὸς τῆς πατρικῆς
οὐσίας ὁ ἐπὶ τὸ πάϑος καὶ τὸν σταυρὸν ἐρχόμ-
ενος ἦν, πῶς ἐν ἀγωνίᾳ γινόμενος προςηύχετο
κτλ. L. ¢. p. 2308.
2 Ὅτι τὸ ϑέλημα τοῦτο ft εἴρηται οὐκ
ἀνϑρώπου τοῦ ἐκ γῆς. aoe τοὶ νομίζουσιν,
ἀλλὰ ϑεοῦ τοῦ καταβώντος ἐξ οὐρανοῦ. An-
Grrhetic. p- 201.
8 Ὁ τῆς κατ᾽ οὐσίαν ivdoetl ἐπι μόνων τῶν
ὁμοουσίων ἠλήϑευται λόγος" ἐπὶ δὲ τῶν ἑτερο-
ουσίων διέψευσται. συγχύσεως εἶναι καϑαρὸς
οὐ δυνάμενος. Collectio Maji, T. VII. p. 69.
4 Ἢ kar’ εὐδοκίαν τῶν φύσεων ἕνωσις μίαν
ἀμφοτέρων τῷ τῆς ὁμωνυμίας λόγῳ ἐργαζεται
τὴν προσηγορίαν, τὴν αὐϑεντίαν, τὴν δυνασ-
τείαν, τὴν δεσποτείαν, τὴν ἀξίαν, τὴν ἐξουσίαν,
μηδενὶ τρόπῳ διαιρουμένην, ἑνὸς ἀμφοτέρων
VOL. Il. 64*
kat’ αὐτὴν προσώπου καὶ γενομένου καὶ Aey-
ομένου. Maji, ]. 6. p. 69.
5'O τῆς Kar’ εὐδοκίαν ἑνώσεως τρύπος, ἀσυγ-
χύτους φυλάσσων φύσεις καὶ ἀδιαιρέτους, ἕν
ἀμφοτέρων τὸ πρόσωπον δείκνυσιν, καὶ μίαν
τὴν ἐνέργειαν μετὰ τῆς ἑπομένης τούτοις μιᾶς
αὐϑεντίας καὶ δεσποτείας, Μα]], |. ¢. p. 69.
5 As he expresses himself in the follow-
ing fragment: Τῷ κατ᾽ οὐσίαν λόγῳ, φύσει
φύσις οὐχ ἐνοῦται ζορὶς ἀφανισμοῦ" οὐκέτι
yap αὐταῖς σώζεται ὁ τοῦ πῶς εἶναι λόγος" H
δὲ κατὰ τὴν ϑέλησιν ἕν ὡσις καὶ τὴν ἐνέργειαν,
ἀτρέπτους αὐτὰς τηρεῖ καὶ ἀδιαιρέτους, μίαν
αὐτῶν δεικτῦσα πεποιημένην τὴν ϑέλησιν καὶ
τὴν ἐ ἐνέργειαν. And in the second fragment,
the xa’ ὑπόστασιν καὶ φύσιν ἕνωσις is re-
jected as untenable, and the κατ᾽ εὐδοκίαν
ἕν σις. μίαν τῶν ἡγωμένων ἀποσώζουσι ϑέλη-
σιν καὶ ἐνέργειαν maintained. Maji, Τὶ VIL
1833, p. 69.
Α.
Abasgians, conversion of the, 116.
_ Abdas of Susa, 110.
Abyssinian Church, 109—121.
Acta Pilati, 4
ABdesius, 119.
Aérius, 342—343.
Aétius 399, 409.
Agape, 325.
Agapetus of Rome, 150, 534.
Agapius, 710.
Agnoétism, 438, 466, 554, 597.
Acacius, of Amida, 113.
Acacius of Bercea, 463.
Acacius of Ceesarea, 408.
Acacius of Constantinople, 527, 528, 533.
᾿Ακέφαλοι, 529, 530.
Alaric, 129.
Alexander of Alexandria, 220. His partic-
ipation in the Arian contra 366—_
370.
Alexander of Antioch, 417.
Alexander of Constantinople, 385, 386.
Alexander of Hierapolis, 485, 487, 490.
Alexandria, synod at, (A.D. 362,) 409, 432.
Alexandrian school: Interpretation of
scripture and inspiration, 351, ff. Points |
in which it differed generally from the
Antiochian school, 352. Doctrine con-
cerning the person of Christ, 444, 445.
Ambrose. Election to the episcopate, 423,
71, 72, 78, 74, 78, 141, 144. Incident
with Theodosius, 180, 181. Priscillian,
711, 714. Active in behalf of Mona-
chism, 259. Against Jovinian, 276. Con-
cerning fasts on the Sabbath, 299. Com-
poser “of church hymns, 318. Anthro-
polozy, 562. Intermediate state for un-
baptized children, 669. Lord’s supper,
670. #
Amphilochius of Iconiam. Against images,
291. Doctrine of the Holy Spirit, 420.
Anachorets. See Monachism.
Anastasius, emperor, 530—532.
Anastasius, presbyter of Nestorius, 448, 458.
Anastasius of Rome, 689.
Anatolius of Constantinople, 516, 517, 518,
520.
Ancyra, council of, (A.D. 314.) 147, 160,
179. Synod of (A.D. 358,) 405.
Andreas of Samosata, 486.
Annianus, 597, 598.
dt
\s ὠ
γ᾿
i
Anthimus, 533—534.
Anthropology, 557, 661.
Anthropomorphites, 690, ff.
Anthusa, 226, 693. aii
᾿Αντιμεϑίστασις ὁ ὀνομάτων in Apollinaris, 431;
controverted by Theodore, 443; in the
Alexandrian school, 444.
Antiochian school, 149. Interpretation of
scripture, 350. Points in which it differed
generally from the Alexandrian school,
352, 353. Doctrine concerning the per-
son of Christ, 435, 444.
Antioch, council of, (A.D. 341,) 154, 388,
389, 390. Council of, (“ee 345 ) 890.
Anthony, 228, 236.
Aphthar todocetism, 549, 550.
Apocatastasis, 676, ff.
Apollinaris of Antioch, 58
Apollinaris of Laodicea, 58. Doctrine con-
cerning the person of Christ. 428—434.
Controverted by Theodore of Mopsuesti,
440, ff.
Arabia, the gospel in, 117, 120, 121.
Arcadius, 79, 81, 700.
Ardashad, synod at, 114.
Arian controversy, 360, 408.
Ariminum, council of, 405. Ἐπ 2
Arius,
365. Doctrine, 361, 369. Partici-
pation in the Arian controversy, 369, 388.
Doctrine of the Holy Spirit, 418. Doe-
‘trine concerning the person of Christ,
425.
Arles, council of, (314,) 141, 189,190. On
the time of the paschal feast, 8301. Coun-
cil of, (355,) 396. Council of, (475,) 646.
Armenia, Christianity in, 113, 114. Mon-
ophysites in, 553, 554.
Arnobius, the younger, 645.
Ascholius of Thessalonica, 737, 740.
Aspebethos, 118, 119.
Asterius of Amasea, 49. On images, 288,
290. ᾿ς
Athanaric, 127, 736. Ἵ
Athanasius. Life and labors, 380, 414,
Julian and Athanasius, 53, 54, 120.
Athanasius on Origen, 679. Doctrine of the
Holy Spirit, 419, 420. Doctrine of creas
tion, 424, ff. Against Apollinarism, 433.
Lord’s supper, 672, 673.
Atticus of Constantinople, 112, 701.
Audius and the Audians, 705, 706.
ale, ΩΝ of his ὅν. ἡ
?.
i
*
i
ee aie’ GENERAL INDEX. 763
ὦ
¢
life and doctrines, 354—359. His mother,
337. Platonism, 102,103. Importance
compared with ‘Tertullian and Origen,
353, 67, 79, 82, 9 —93. (De civ. Dei,)
95, 97, 98, 100. fide et operibus,
100, 101, 129, 136, 137, 139, 143, πο
146, 151.. Concerning Ron 167,
3 — 176. Church discipline, feo.
with the sts, 197—203.
Theological poten with the Dona- |
_ tists, 203-217. In behalf of the An-
chorites, 248. Monachism, de opere Mon-
τς achorum, 259—261. Mesias Jovinian,
277. De bono conjugali, 277. Read-
ing of bible, 281, 282. Sign of the
cross, 287. -Fasting on the Sabbath, 298.
Fasts, 304. Festival of the New Year,
315. As a preacher, 317. Frequent
_ | celebration of the Lord’s supper, 328. Idea
of sacrifice in the supper, 332. Adora-
tion of saints, 335, 336. Doctrine of the
Holy rit, 421, 422. Anthropology,
564—572. De gestis Pelagii, 585. On
_ the civil power applied against Julian,
594. Appeal to the Christian conscious-
ness, 594. Antagonist of the Pelagian
doctrines, 598—626. De gratia et libero
arbitrio, and de correptione et gratia, 626.
De preedestinatione sanctorum, and de
dono perseverantise, against the Semi-
Pelagians, 631. Retractationes, opus imp.
and death, 634. Idea of the sacraments,
662—665. Opposed to the limbus infan-
tium, 669. On faith in the case of infant
baptism, 670. Doctrine of the Lord's
' supper, B73, 674. Purgatory, 675. De
men nsentium, 718.
See Ap-
,
Auxentius, bishop of the Goths.
pendix.
Auxentius of Milan, 428.
Foy Ε΄ <3;
Babzeus, 5 3.
Bachiarius, 714.
Baptism, 51 Euchites, 242. Adminis
tion of, 320—326. Doctrine of, 665, ff. |
Barbatianus. 276.
Bar Sudaili, 555—557,
Barsumas, abbot, 501, 510.
Barsumas of Nisibis, 552.
Basiliseus, 135, 526, 527.
Basil of Ancyra, 405, 406. Basil of Czsa-
rea, 413, 414. Friend of Gregory Nazian-
zen, 416. At Athens, 150. Election to
the episcopate, 153. Julian, 58. Basilias,
137. Intercession, 142, In favor of
the Cenobite life, 246. les for monks,
ΟΠ 251, 252. Doctrine of the Holy Spirit,
420. Chrestomathy, from Origen, 679.
Benedict of Nursia, 261—265.
Bible, reading of the, 280—283. Reading
of the bible before the church assemblies,
282. Study of the bible. among the
Goths, 129. Among the Antiochians,
150.
ἧς oe See church soisatiedsall
~
“οὔ
“΄
ξ
.
tT
Boniface τι. of Ν ων 650.
Bonosus opposed to the worship of Mary,
340.
Bordeaux, synod at, (A.D, 384.) 712.
Braga, council 8: (ap. 563,) 718.
~ C.
Cecilian, 183, ff.
Cesarius, of ’Arles, 261, 304, 648% 650.
Calliana, (Calcutta, ) 117.
Candidian, 468, 473, 474.
Carthage, Council of, (AD. 401,) 300.
(A.D. 403,) 198. (A.D. 404.) 199.
Cassian, Johny 261, 627—630.
Cassiodorus, 150, 579.
Catechumens, 321, 8225" ee
Celibacy, 147—149.
Chalcedon, ecumenical council of, 518, 524.
Character indelebilis, 663. it
Chor-bishops, 159, 160.
Christ, doctrine concerning the person of,
424—553. Christmas, festival of, 308, 314.
Chrysaphius, 507, 516.
Chrysostom, 692—700. Anthusa, 226, 227,
Labors in behalf of the Goths, 128, 129.
Eutropius, 145—75, 80, 95, 146, 149.
Presbyters, 155, 179. Stagirius, 238.
Anachorets, 248, 250, 251. Monachism,
267—269. On the right worship of God,
278, 279. Prayer, 279. Reading of the
bible, 281, 282. Sign of the cross, 286,
287. Images, 291. Celebration of festi-
vals, 296. Fasts, 297. Christmas, 309.
As a preacher, 317. Infant baptism, 320.
Lord’s supper, 328, 329. Sacrifice in the
Lord’s supper, 332. Pilgrimages, 341.
Inspiration and interpretation of scrip-
true, 352, 353. Anthropology, 657—659.
Baptism, 665, 666. Doctrine of the
Lord’s supper, 670.
Church, invisible and visible— Failure of
distinguishing hetween — in the Donatist
controversy, 203. Conception of the —
by Tichonius, 209, 210. Augustin, ap-
proximating to the true conception of,
212. Conception of the invisible church
by Jovinian, 275.
Church and state, 130, 146, 195.
Church buildings, 283, 286.
Church psalmody, 317, 318.
Church divisions, 182, 222.
Church constitution, 130—182.
Church discipline, 178—182.
Circumeellions, 192, 193, 195, 196.
Ceelestin of Rome, 123. In the Nestorian
controversy, 461—463, 493. In the Pela-
gian controversy, 634.
Ceelestius, 579, ff. Doctrine of baptism,
667. 668.
Councils. 123, 175-—178.
Confirmation, 155, 323.
Consilia « evangelica, disputed by Jovinian,
269. How considered by Pelagius, 579
584. By Julian, 617.
Constans. 31. Donatists, 193—196. Arian
controversy, and Athanasius, 392, 393,
ἢ Ὁ
Μ ‘
104
Constantia, sister of Constantine, 16, 289,
378, 379. ἯὟ
Constantine the Great, 5—31, 104, 132, 133,
135, 138,139. Donatists, 188—193. Let-
ter to Antony, 233, 297,300. Arian con-
troversy, 370—388. Manichzans, 708.
Constantine the younger, 31, 280, 388.
Constantinople, second ecumenical council
of, (A.D. 331,) 416—418, 420. Con-
demnation of ’Apollinaris, 436. Council
of, (A.D. 360,) 408. Synod at, (A.D. 448,)
504. Synod under Mennas, at, (A.D.
536,) 534. Council of, (A.D. 551,) 546.
Fifth ecumenical council at, (A.D. 553,)
547—549, 703, 704.
Constantius, 31—36, 120, 291.
troversies, 387—410.
Cresconius, 198
Cross, sign of the, 286, 287.
Cultus, Christian, 278, 343.
Cyrill of Alexandria. "Representative of the
Alexandrian school, 444. In the Nesto-
rian controversy, 453—498,
Cyrill of Jerusalem, 98, 411.
665. Lord’s supper, 670.
D.
Dalmatius, 476, 477.
Damasus of Rome, 71, 148, 154, 173, 221,
222, 683, 711.
Deacons. Deaconesses, 155, 158.
Demetrius Chytas, 32.
Demophilus of Constantinople, 416.
Didymus, 149, 349, 679, 704.
Dictinnius, libra, 717, 718.
Diodore of Tarsus, 496, 551, 677.
Dionysius the Areopagite, writings ascribed
to, 350, 556.
Dionysius Exiguus. Collection of decre-
tals, 178. On the time of the Easter fes-
tival, 302.
Dioscurus, 500—522.
Diospolis, synod at, (A.D. 415,) 583—585.
Docetism. Hilary. See Appendix. Priscil-
Jian, 717.
Domitian of Ancyra, 536—540.
Domnus, of Antioch, 503, 513.
Donatists, 182—217. Church discipline, 205.
Donatus, of Casz Nigre, 187, 189—191.
Donatus Magnus, 191.
Dsunovas, 120.
Arian con-
Baptism,
E.
Easter, time of, 301, 302.
Edessa, school at, 551, 552.
Klesbaan, 120, 121.
Elvira, couneil of, 141, 147.
Ephesus, Third ecumenical council at, 467
—479. Robber synod at, 509—514.
Epiphany. Feast of, 306—308. As ἃ sea-
son for baptism, 324.
Epiphanius, 680—697, 151. Against images,
292, 293.
Episcopal power. Growth of, 155.
Eschatology, 675—678.
Euchites, 240—247.
»
a
GENERAL INDEX.
Ψ
Eudocia, 460, 507, 516, 524.
Eudoxia, 82, 694—700.
Eudoxius of Antioch, later of Constanti-
nople, 403, 408, 409, 411.
Eugenius, 78.
Eulogius of Ceesarea, 583.
Eunapius, 93.
Eunomius, 399—409. An Aristotelian, 849.
Doctrine of the Holy Spirit, 419. Doc-
trine concerning the person of Christ,
425.
Euoptius of Ptolemais, 471.
Euphemites, 707.
Euphemius of Constantinople, 530.
Eusebius, of Czsarea. Participation in the
Arian controversy, 367, ff. 373, ff. 383, ff.-
Against images, 289, 290. Doctrine of
the Lord’s supper, 674, 675. Panegyric
on Constantine, 6, 23, 30.
Eusebius of Doryleum, 504, 505, 512, 513.
Eusebius of Nicomedia. Participation in
the Arian controversy, 367, 377, 379.
Baptizes Constantine, 28.
Eusebius, of Vercelli, 151, 259, 396.
Eustathius of Antioch, and the Eustathians,
37S. 411. 417.
Eustathius of Sebaste, and the Eustathians,
241, 342.
Euthymius, monk, 119.
Eutropius, 145, 693, 694.
Eutyches, 501, 504, ff.
Eutychius, of Constantinople, 548, 550.
Evagrius, the Origenist, 691, 704.
F.
Facundus of Hermiane. In the controversy
of the three chapters, 544, 545. Respect-
ing councils, 177.
Fasts, 293. Jovinian on, 270, ff. Aérius,
opposed to laws regulating, 343,
Fasting, seasons of, 297—299.
Faustus of Mileve, 313, 710.
Faustus of Rhegium, 261, 645—647. Con-
troversy about his work de gratia, 649,
650.
Felix of Apturgis, 187.
Festivals, Christian, 296—316.
Flavian of Antioch, 142, 244.
Flavian of Constantinople, 505—513, 517.
For tunius, 197.
Fraus pia. Euchites, 244. Origenists, 538.
Priscillianists, 717, 718.
Frumentius, 119, ff.
Fulgentius Ferrandus, 542, 543.
Fulgentius of Ruspe, 650.
G.
Gallus, Julian’s brother, 37, 41.
Gangra, council of, 244.
Gaudentius of Brescia, 70.
Gaudentius of Thamugade, 202, 213.
Gelasius, 598. Lord’s supper, 671, 672.
Gennadius, presbyter at Marseilles, on Au-
_ gustin, 647. "
Gennadius of Lower Hermupolis, 528, 529,
Georgius of Alexandria, 35, 60, 399.
᾿
«“-
Georgius of Laodicea, 405, 406.
Gnosimachi, 706.
Goths, Christianity among the, 125—129.
Arians, 423, also in the Appendix.
_Grace. See Pelagian controversies.
Gratian 70—72, 222.
Gregory of Alexandria, 389, 392.
Gregory of Nazianzus, 414, 418. Mother,
226—58, 137, 150—67, 149, 165. On
councils. 176. Infant baptism, 319. Doe-
trine of the Holy Spirit, 420. Doctrine
concerning the person of Christ, 427.
Against Apollinarism, 433, 434. Doctrine
of baptism, 665. Intermediate state for
unbaptized children, 669. Lord's supper,
674. Chrestomathy from Origen, 680.
Gregory of Nazianzus, the father, 59, 707.
Gregory of Nyssa. Influence on the coun-
cil of Constantinople, 413. His relations
with Origen, 680. Pilgrimages, 342. On
the rage for discuss'ng doctrines at Con-
stantinople, 388. On the inward expe-
rience, in opposition to Eunomius, 401,
402. Doctrine of the Holy Spirit, 421.
Doctrine concerning the person of Christ,
427. Lord’s supper, 672. On the final
restoration, 674.
Gregory Photistes, 113.
H.
Helena, mother of Constantine, 5, 341.
Helladius of Tarsus, 490
Helvidius, against the worship of Mary, 340.
Heron, monk, 239.
Heros of Arles, 583.
Hilarion, monk, 118, 235, 236, 342.
Hilary of Arles, 173.
Hilary, the friend of Prosper, 631, ff.
Hilary of Poictiers. Against the confound-
ing of Church and State, 33, 134, Au-
thor of church hymns, 318. In defence
of Athanasius, 396,397. Doctrine of the
Holy Spirit, 419. Soul and body of
Christ, 427, Anthropology, 559—562.
Lord’s supper, 670, 671.
Hilarus, deacon at Rome, 514.
Hipporegius. council of, 164.
Homerites, Christianity among the, 117—
121.
Honorius, 79, ff. 200.
Hormisdas of Rome, 533, 649—650.
Hosius of Cordova, 154, 371, 398, 404,
Hyginus of Cordova, 711.
Hypsistarians, 707.
I
Tbas of Edessa, 551, 552. Letter of — con-
demned, 538, 548. “-
Therians, conversion of the, 114, 115.
Idacius of Emerita, 711, 712. —
Images, 287—296.
India, the gospel in, 116, 117.
Infant baptism, 319, 320.
Innocent of Rome. On the Roman primacy,
170. On fasting on the Sabbath, 299. In
the Pelagian controversies, 585, 587.
GENERAL INDEX.
765
Inspiration, doctrine of, 351, 352.
Instantius, oO Pe BP
Intercessions of bishops, 141—144.
Irenaeus, Comes, 468, 475, 478, 494.
Ireland, Christianity in, 122—125.
Isidore of Pelusium, 134, 283, 284, 454.
Anthropology, 661. Baptism, 666.
Isidore, presbyter of Theophilus of Alexan-
dria, 687, 691.
Ithacius of Sossuba, 711, 712.
J.
Jacob of Edessa and the Jacobites, 553.
Jerome, 681—685, 129, 155. Active in
support of monasticism, 259. Against
Jovinian, 276, 277. On fasting on the
Sabbath, 298. Against the theatrical
mode of church psalmody, 318, 319.
Against Vigilantius, and in favor of the
worship of the saints, 338, 339. Against
Helvidius, 340. Pilgrimages, 341, 342,
Interpretation of scripture and inspiration,
352. Pelagian controversies, 581, 585.
Jews. Favored by Julian, 49. Persecution
of the Christians on the part of the, 118.
John of Antioch. In the Nestorian con-
troversy, 463, 498.
John, Comes sacrarum, 478.
ee of Jerusalem, 582, 583, 685, 686,
John, Philoponus, 554, 555.
John, Syncel of Cyrill, 478...
John Talaya, 528, 529. +
Johannites, 701.
Joseph, Patriarch of Armenia, 114.
Jovian, 412.
Jovinian, 269—277.
Judaism. Julian’s views of. See Appendix.
Its relation to Christianity and to Pagan-
ism. See Appendix.
oat. emperor, 30, 32, 37—66, 69, 84—89,
Julian of Eclanum. Participation in the
Pelagian controversies, 592—597. Advo-
cate of the Pelagian doctrines, 600—625.
Doctrine of baptism, 666.
Julius of Rome, 171, 172, 389, 390.
Justina, 423. -
Justinian, 83, 538—550, 135, 649, 703, 704,
709. ,
Justin, 532. 533.
Juvenalis of Jerusalem, 470, 510, 524.
L. εἶν
Laity, participation of {ῃ6 -- πη ecclesias-
tical elections, 152, ff =
Lampon, 458. : "ay Hag
Laodicea, council of, 157, 160, 173, 298.
On the festival of Sunday, 298. On
church psalmody, 318.
Lazarus of Aix, 583.
Lazians, conversion of the, 115, 116.
Leo the Great, 104, 169, 170, 508, 509. On
the Robber’s Synod, and the Chalcedonian
Council, 514, ff. 525. Was he the author
ν te?
106
GENERAL INDEX.
¥
“
of the book de vocatione gentium ? 639. | Miesrob, 118.
“Manichzans, 708, 709.
Leo, emperor, 526.
Leontius of Neapolis, in defense of images, | Miracles.
294, 295. ;
Leporius, 596, 597. ὧδ
Lerins, cloister of, 81, 685, 645, 648.
Libanius, 33, 39, 47, 51, 74, 75.
Liberius of Rome, 221, 308, 398, 404, 405.
Licinius, 12—19.
Life, Christian, 223—277.
Lord’s supper, celebration of ihe, 325—330.
Doctrine of the, 670—675.
Lucian, 89. ,
Lnehdtis, 645, 646.
Lucifer of Cagliari, 396—398, 412.
Luciferites, 412.
Lucilla, 186, f.
M.
Macarius of Eevpt, 691.
Macarius Politicus, 691.
Macedonius of Constantinople, (A.D. 360,)
408.
Macedonius of Constantinople, (after A.D.
510,) 530, 531.
Macedonius, monk, 249.
Majorinus, 188—191.
Male, (Malabar.) 117.
Manichzans, 707—710. Exclude wine in
the sacrament of the supper, 330.
Marcellus of Ancyra, 394, 395. Doctrine
concerning the person of Christ, 425, 426.
Opponent of Origen, 679.
Marcellus of Apamea, 77.
Marcian, emperor, 516.
Marcian, monk, 255. ᾿
Marriage. Despised by the Eustathians,
245. Jovian’s views concerning, 270, 271.
Considered a sacrament by Augustin, 664.
Maris of Chalcedon, 59.
Mark of Arethusa, 51, 61.
Mark of Memphis, 710.
Mark, monk. Sole trust in the Redeemer,
255.
Martin of Tours.
monasticism, 259.
714.
Maruthas of Tagrit, 110, 700.
Mary, worship of, 339—341. Mary the
ϑεοτόκος. See Nestorian controversy.
Maternus, 34.
Maxentius, 7.
Maximin, 1—5, 14—16.
Maximus, emperor, 711, ff.
Melchiades of Rome, 189.
Meletius of Lycopolis, and the Meletian
schism in Egypt, 217, 221, 382, 388.
Meletian schism at Antioch, 410—412.
Meletius of Mopsuestia, 490, 492.
Meletius of Sebaste, 410-—412.
Memnon of Ephesus, 468, ff.
Mennas, 534—540.
Mensurius, 183, 186.
Meropius, 119.
Metropolitan constitution, 162, ff.
Active in defence of
Priscillianists, 712—
Milan, synod at, 396. :
Mihr Nerseh, proclamation of, 105, 107.
Views of Augustin concerning.
See Appendix.
Monachism, 103, 118, 150, 227—278.
Monica, 227. '
Monophysites, beyond the Roman empire,
552—555.
Monophysite controversies, 524—550.
Moses of Chorene, 114.
N.
| Nectarius of Constantinople, 181.
Neo-Cesarea, council of, (A.D. 314,) 147,
156, 318.
Nestorians in Persia, 551, 552.
Nestorian schools, 150.
Nestorian controversy, 446—524.
Nestorius, 446—495. Anthropology and
participation in the Pelagian controversy,
659, 660.
Neo-Platonism, 36, 38, 81, 102, 103.
New Year, festival of the, 314, 315.
Nic in Thrace, 408.
Nice, council of, (first ecumenical, ) 372—378,
147, 151, 153, 157, 165, 174. Decision
with respect to the Meletian-schism,
220. On the time of the celebration of
the passover, 302. Intended council of,
(A.D. 451,) 517, 518.
Nilus, 238. Against indolence and too long
prayer, 241. On the blessings of the
monastic life, 250, 251, 253. Onimages,
292. Lord’s supper, 670, 671.
Niobites, 554.
Nisibis, 150, 552.
Nonna, 226.
North-Africanchurch. Its free spirit, 164—
167, 174, 586, on Rome.
Nuns, cloisters for, 237.
O.
Oak, synod of the, 697, 698.
Offering, notion of, connected with the sac-
rament of the supper, 332—334.
Optatus of Mileve, 166, 167.
Orange, council of, (A.D. 599.) 650.
Oriental church. As distinguished from
thé Western church, 135, 171, 346—350,
557, 558. Anthropology of the, 651—
661.
Origen, 349, 350. Compared with Augustin,
. 853, 354.
Origenists and the Origenistic controversy,
536—538, 678—704.
Criginal sin, (inherited sin.) See Pelagian
controversy.
Orosius, 93. In the Pelagian controversy,
582 .
Ῥ
Pachomius, labors of, 236, 237, 238.
ponent of Origen, 680.
Paganism, 70.
Op
Palladius, 123.
we γ᾽
Papacy, 165, ff.
Parsism, 105, tf.
Passover, feast of the —time,
Among the Audians.
Patriarchal constitution, 163—165.
Patrick St., 122—125.
Paulinus of Antioch, 412.
Paulinus, deacon from Milan, 580.
Paulus catena, 32.
Paul, the hermit, 228, 229.
Paul of Emesa, 483.
Pelagian controversy, 564—625.
Pelagius, life of. Doctrine of human na-
ture of Christ, 572—580. In the Pelagian
\
301—303.
» Wey .
— INDEX. |
767
Rome, 123, 124, 162, 163, 168—175, 299,
889.
-Rufinus, 685—6s89.
controversy, 580, ff. Opposed to the doc- |
trine of purgatory, 675.
Pelagius, Roman arch-deacon, 537.
Persian church, 104—113, 551—552.
Peter, the clothier, 530, 531.
Peter of Alexandria, 218—220.,
Peter of Jerusalem, 537, 538.
Peter Mongus, 528, 529.
Petilian, 201, 202.
Philippopolis, council of, 391.
Philoxenos, 530. Against images, 295.
Photinus of Sirmium, 395. Doctrine con-
cerning the person of Christ, 425.
Pilgrimages, 341, 342.
Platonism, as a form of church doctrine,
349, 350.
Pneumatomachi.
Pontianus, 541.
Porphyry of Gaza, 81. . .
Possessor, 649.
Prayer, doctrine concerning. Euchites, 241.
Chry sostom, on this point, 279. Antioch-
ian church-prayer for catechumens, 321,
322.
Predestinatians, 641—643.
Predestination, doctrine of, 623—625.
Presbyters, 155.
Priesthood, false idea of the, 146.
Priscillian and the Priscillianists, 710—718.
Prowresius, 57.
Proclus of Constantinople,
496—498.
Proclus, the Neo-Platonist, 83.
Prosper of Aquitania, 630—638.
Proterius of Alexandria, 525.
Provincial synods, 162.
Prudentius, 81.
Ptolemus, monk.
Pulcheria, 460, 482, 483, 507, 516.
Purgatory and purgatorial fire, 675, 676.
R.
Rabulas of Edessa, 551, 552, 496.
Redemption, doctrine of. Different views
of the Eastern and Western churches,
665—670. As held by Augustin, 618,
619. By Pelagius, 578, 579. By Theo-
dore of “Mopsuestia, 656, ff. By Priscil-
lian, 716, 717. “
Relics, worship of, 334,
Reparatus of Carthage, 546.
Rheginus of Constantia, 472.
Rhetorius, 706, 707.
450, 451, 488.
ἁ.
*
, 5.
Sabas,
Sabbath, ΝΡ Ἢ Lof the, 297—299.
Sacraments, administration of the, 322—
332. Doctrine concerning the, 661—675.
Sapor II. 104. . ;
Sarabaites, 247, 248.
Saragossa, synod at, (A.D. 380.) 711.
Sardica, council of, 154, 160, 172, 391, 392.
Canons of this council confounded. with
those of the council of Nice, 172."
Sarmatio, 276.
Scripture, interpretation of, 350—353.
Sects, history of the, 704—718.
Secundus of Ptolemais, 377, 378.
Secundus of Tigisis, 184.
Seleucia, in Isaurea, council of, 407—409.
Semi-Arianism, 373, ff.
Semi- Pelagianism, 625, ff.
Seneca, a bishop of Italy, 598.
Serapion, monk, 690, 691.
Sermon, the, 316, 317.
Sermon on the mount, 576.
Severus, poem of, 12.
Severus, monophysite, 531, 532, 533, 534,
535, 554.
Silverius of Rome, 535—536.
Simeon, of Seleucia, 08, ff.
Simeon, the Stylite, 257, 258.
Simplicius, 84, 724.
Sirmium, council of, (A.D. 351,) 395. Sy-
nod at, (A.D. 357,) 404, 405.
Siricius of Rome, 275, 324, 684, 689, 714.
Socrates on the observance of feasts, 296.
State and church, 130, ff. Donatus, 195.
Intermingling of the state, 345, 346.
Stephanus Gobarus, 555.
Strategius, 14, 708. ;
Study of the ancients, 55, ff. 150, 682, 693.
Sunday, observance of, 299—3801.
Symmachas, 72, 78, 96, 97.
Synesius, 103, 148, 181, on Monasticism,
254. Platonism, 350, 702.
dks
Taprobane, (Ceylon,) 117.
Thalassius of Caesarea, 510.
Themistius, 33, 68, 69, 70, 96.
Theodora, 533, ff.
Theodorus Ascidas, 536—539.
Theodore of Mopsuestia, 106. Doctrine of
inspiration 352. Doctrine of the Holy
Spirit, 422. Doctrine concerning the
person of Christ. Cyrill intends his con-
demnation, 496, ff. Condemned, 536—547,
Participation in the Pelagian controversy,
651—653. Anthropology. 653—657. Doc-
trine concerning baptism, 666, 667. Apo-
catastasis. 677, 678.
Theodoret, 465—523. Mother, 95, 112, 137,.
143. Rome 166. Monasticism, 249% |
Worship of saints, 336. Interpretation of
Scripture, 353. Doctrine of the Holy.
»
4
΄
768 GENERAL
Spirit, 422. His writings condemned, 536
—548. Sacrament of the supper, 671, 672.
Theodosius the Great, 73—78, 142, 180, ff.
249, 414, 416.
Theodosius II. 134, 145, 146, 460, 467, ff.
514, 701. ᾧ
Theodosius. the Monophysite, 524, 525.
Theognis of Nice, 378, 379.
Theognist, 713.
Theology, i in the more restricted sense, 360
—430, % ἡ
‘ical education, 149—151.
- of Marmarica, 378.
_scupnilus of Alexandria. In the Origen-
istic controversy, 689—700.
Theophilus the Indian, 116—118.
‘hiven, yaaa (A.D. 536,) 553. Ticho-
us, 209, ff.
τιν᾽ Ailurus, 525, 526, 527.
Timotheus Salophaciolus, 526, 527, 528.
Titus Bostra, 59.
fo, council of, (A.D. 400,) 717, 718.
cil of, (A.D. 589.)
‘rini doctrine of the, 360—430.
" . synod at, (A.D. 335,) 383.
τ:
στρ: 45,125, ff. See Appendix. His Eu-
re jianism—Appendix.
15 of Singidinum, 404—409.
3, 22], 222,
IN DEX.
W.
Valence, council of, 650.
Valens, emperor, 90, 142, 267, 412, 413.
Valens, monk, 239. ‘
Valens of Mursa, 404, ff.
Valentinian I. 69, 136, 414, 423. ὃ.
Valentinian 11. 72, 73, 182. |
Valentinian III. 173, 709.
Vandals, Arians, 424.
Varanes, 113, 734.
Vigilantius, 149,277. Opposed to the wor-
ship of images, 337—339.
Vigilius of Rome, 535—549.
Victorinus, 57, 58.
Vincentius, from Lerina, commonitorium,
635, 636.
Vocatione, gentium liber de, 638—641, 184.
In favor of the Roman primacy, 169.
Ww.
Western church, 166, 348—359. Anthro-
pology of the, 558, 651.
Z.
Zeno, emperor, 135, 526, 527, 552.
Zeno of Verona, 284.
Zosimus, the pagan historian, 93.
Zosimus of Rome, 175. In the Pelagian
controversy, 587—592.
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