BOOK II.

FROM CONSTANTINE TO THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR THEODOSIUS I , A.D. 313-395.

CHAPTER V.

FROM THE END OF THE SECOND GENERAL COUNCIL TO THE DEATH OF THEODOSIUS—ST. AMBROSE. A.D. 381-395.

 

It has been mentioned that the Arian Auxentius was allowed by Valentinian to retain the important see of Milan. On his death, in 374, the emperor was requested to nominate an archbishop, but, agreeably to his principle of avoiding interference in spiritual affairs, he referred the choice to the people. An eager contest ensued between the Catholics and the Arians. While both parties were assembled in the principal church, and it seemed likely that their excitement would break out into deeds of violence, the governor of Liguria, Ambrose, appeared, and made a speech exhorting them to peace. When he ceased, a little child, it is said, was heard to utter the words, “Ambrose, bishop!”, and immediately the cry was caught up by the whole assemblage. The governor, who, although of Christian parentage, was as yet only a catechumen, wished to avoid an office so alien from his former thoughts and studies. He attempted by various devices to convince the Milanese that his character was unsuitable; he fled more than once from the city; but he was brought back, and, as Valentinian approved of the election, was consecrated within a week after his baptism.

Ambrose, the son of a praetorian prefect of Gaul, had been educated as an advocate, and at the time of his election to the archbishopric was thirty-four years of age. He forthwith set himself to make up by assiduous study for his previous neglect of theological learning. It would seem that, on his sudden elevation, he yielded himself without suspicion or reserve to the tendencies of that fashion of religion which he found prevailing; and from the combination of this with his naturally lofty and energetic character resulted a mixture of qualities which might almost seem incompatible,—of manliness, commanding dignity, and strong practical sense, with a fanciful mysticism and a zealous readiness to encourage and forward the growing superstitions of the age. “The Old and New Testament” it has been well said, “met in the person of Ambrose—the implacable hostility to idolatry, the abhorrence of every deviation from the established form of belief; the wise and courageous benevolence, the generous and unselfish devotion to the great interests of humanity”.

After the death of Valentinian, Ambrose acquired a strong influence over the mind of Gratian, for whose especial instruction he wrote some treatises. But in Justina, the widow of the late emperor, and mother of the younger Valentinian (whose chief residence was at Milan), he found a bitter and persevering enemy. This princess was devoted to the Arian creed, and her first disagreement with Ambrose appears to have been in 379, when he defeated her in an attempt to procure the appointment of a heretical bishop to Sirmium. But notwithstanding this collision, when tidings reached Milan in 383 that Gratian had been murdered at Lyons by the partisans of the rebel Maximus, Justina placed her young son in the archbishop's arms, and entreated him to become his protector. Ambrose accepted the charge, proceeded to Treves, where Maximus had fixed his court, and obtained his consent to a partition of the west—Maximus taking for himself Britain, Gaul, and Spain, while the other countries were left to Valentinian.

Two years later, however, a fresh contest with the empress-mother arose. Ambrose had succeeded in extinguishing Arianism among the citizens of Milan, so that its only adherents in the place were a portion of the court and some Gothic soldiers. To these the archbishop was required, on the approach of Easter, to give up, first, the Portian basilica, (a church without the walls), and afterwards the largest church within the city, which had just been erected on the site now occupied by that which bears his name. He was twice summoned before the council, who told him that he must yield to the imperial power. He replied that he was ready to part with anything that was his own—even his life ; but that he was not at liberty to surrender what was sacred : “Palaces” he said, “are for the emperor; churches are for God’s priests”. The populace of the city were greatly excited. They tore down the hangings which had been put up by way of preparing the churches for the reception of the emperor; they seized an Arian presbyter in the streets, and would probably have killed him, if Ambrose had not interposed to rescue him; they surrounded the palace while the archbishop was in attendance on the council. The imperial ministers in alarm entreated him to restrain his partisans; Ambrose answered that it was in his power to refrain from exciting them, but that it was in God's hand only to appease them; that, if he were suspected of having instigated the tumult, he ought to be punished by banishment or otherwise. Even the soldiery showed a disposition to take part with the Catholics, and some of them, who had been sent to occupy the new church, declared that they were come, not to fight, but to join in the archbishop’s prayers. The empress at length yielded, and a heavy fine which had been laid on the traders of Milan as a punishment for the first demonstration in favour of Ambrose was remitted.

In the beginning of the following year an edict was issued, allowing entire freedom of religion to those who should profess the creed of Rimini, and denouncing death against all who should molest them. Soon after its publication Ambrose was required, under pain of deprivation, to argue his cause with the bishop of the Arian party, a Goth who had assumed the name of the former Arian bishop Auxentius, in the presence of the emperor and some lay judges; but he boldly refused, on the ground that matters of faith ought not to be submitted to such a tribunal. When Easter was again at hand, a fresh demand was made for the church within the walls. With an allusion to the story of Naboth, Ambrose replied that he would not give up the inheritance of his fathers, the holy and orthodox bishops who had filled the see before him. On being ordered to leave the city, he refused to yield except to force, and his flock, in fear lest he should either withdraw or be carried off, anxiously guarded him—passing several nights in the church and the adjoining buildings, while the outlets were watched by the imperial soldiers. During these vigils Ambrose introduced, for the first time in the west, a mode of singing which had lately originated in somewhat similar circumstances at Antioch— that, instead of leaving the psalmody to the choristers, the whole congregation should divide itself into two choirs, by which the chant was to be taken up alternately.

The matter was still undecided, when Ambrose, on proceeding to complete the consecration of the church which had been the object of so much contention, was requested by his people to use the same ceremonies as on a certain former occasion. He answered that he would do so if relics of saints should be found, and gave orders to dig up the pavement near the altar-rails in the church of St. Felix and St. Nabor; when two skeletons were discovered, of extraordinary size, “such as the olden time produced”, with the heads separated from the bodies, and with a large quantity of fresh blood. These relics, after having been exposed for two days, were deposited in the new church. Demoniacs who were brought near to them showed signs of great disturbance; some of the possessed declared that the bones were those of martyrs, and proclaimed their names, Gervasius and Protasius—names which had been utterly forgotten, but which old men were at length able to remember that they had heard in former days; in other cases the demons cried out that all who refused to confess the true doctrine of the Trinity, as it was taught by Ambrose, would be tormented even as they themselves then were. Other miracles are related as having been brought by the touch of the cloth which covered the relics, and even by their shadow as they were carried along. The most noted was, that a butcher, well known in Milan, who had lost his sight, recovered it on touching the hem of the pall, and, as a witness to the cure, he became for the rest of his days sacristan of the church in which they were preserved. The general excitement was now such, that, although the Arians questioned and ridiculed the miracles, Justina no longer ventured to press her claims against the bishop, who was supposed to have been distinguished by a Divine interposition in his behalf.

An apprehension of renewed danger from Maximus may perhaps have contributed to this result. In following year (387) Ambrose was again sent to the court of Treves, with a commission to treat for the delivery of Gratian’s body. He asserted in a remarkable manner the dignity of the episcopal character, but returned without effecting his object and soon after Maximus, in violation of his engagements, invaded the territories of Valentinian. The young emperor and his mother fled for protection to Theodosius, who in the summer of 388 marched westwards, defeated the usurper, who was given up by his own adherents, and was put to death; and for a time the victor fixed his residence at Milan.

The power which Ambrose had exerted over the younger princes was no less felt by “the Great” Theodosius. Soon after his arrival at Milan the emperor was about to seat himself within that part of the cathedral which was appropriated to the clergy, when the archbishop desired him to withdraw to a position at the head of the laity. Theodosius expressed thanks for the admonition, excused himself on the ground that at Constantinople the imperial seat was within the railings of the choir, and on his return to the east, astonished the more courtly clergy of his capital by introducing the practice of Milan.

The zeal of Theodosius for unity of faith and worship among his subjects was encouraged and directed by Ambrose, who assumed a right of moral control over the emperor's proceedings. On one occasion, at least, this influence appears to have been pushed beyond the bounds of equity. The Christians of Callinicum, in Mesopotamia, had destroyed a Jewish synagogue, and, in revenge for an insult offered to some monks, as they were on their way to keep a festival, had also burnt a Valentinian place of worship. Theodosius ordered that the bishop of the town, who had encouraged these proceedings, should restore the buildings, or pay the price of them. On hearing of the order, Ambrose wrote to the emperor by way of remonstrance, and, as his letter had no effect, he followed it up by a personal appeal in a sermon, maintaining that it was inconsistent with the duty of a Christian prince to sanction the employment of Christian funds for such purposes. Theodosius yielded, and recalled his sentence. We may be inclined to wonder that Ambrose, if he failed to see the injustice of the position which he advanced, and its inconsistency with any sound principles of civil government, was yet not led to suspect its truth by the consideration that it would have warranted the oppression of a Christian minority by heathens, or of an orthodox minority by heretics. But so far was he from feeling any misgiving on this account, that he even ventured to cite the destruction of churches under Julian, and the recent burning of the episcopal house at Constantinople by the Arians, as if these acts were sufficient precedents for a justification of the Mesopotamian outrages.

An interposition of a more creditable nature followed. The most prominent defect in the noble and amiable character of Theodosius was a proneness to violent anger. That he could be merciful after great provocation was remarkably shown in his forgiveness of the people of Antioch, who in 387 rose in sedition on account of a tax, burnt some houses, and threw down the statues of the emperor, of his deceased wife, to whom he had been tenderly attached, and of other members of his family. But in 390 his passion became the occasion of a fearful tragedy at Thessalonica. The populace of that city, on the occasion of a chariot-race, demanded the release of a favourite charioteer, whom Botheric, commander-in-chief of the district, had imprisoned for attempting an abominable crime; and on Botheric’s refusal, they broke out into tumult, and murdered him with many of his soldiery and others. The emperor, although greatly exasperated by the report of the insurrection, promised, at the intercession of Ambrose, to pardon the Thessalonians; but his secular advisers, who regarded with great jealousy the influence of the bishop over his mind, were afterwards able, by insisting on the heinous character of the offence, to procure from him an order which was carefully kept secret from Ambrose. The people of Thessalonica were invited to a performance of games in the circus, and, while there assembled, were attacked by an overwhelming force of soldiers. Neither age nor sex was regarded; no distinction was made between guilty and innocent, citizen and stranger. For three hours an indiscriminate butchery was carried on, and at least seven thousand victims perished.

The report of this massacre affected Ambrose with the deepest horror. Theodosius was then absent from Milan, and before his return the archbishop retired into the country, whence he wrote a letter, exhorting him to repent, and declaring that, until due penance should be performed, he had been forbidden by God to offer the Eucharistic sacrifice in the emperor's presence. The letter had its effect in convincing Theodosius of the guilt which he had incurred by allowing treacherous barbarity to take the place of justice. But this was not enough for Ambrose. As Theodosius was about to enter the Portian church, the archbishop met him in the porch; laying hold of his robe, he desired him to withdraw, as a man polluted with innocent blood; and when the emperor spoke of his contrition, Ambrose told him that private regrets were insufficient to expiate so grievous a wrong. Theodosius submitted and retired. For eight months he remained in penitential seclusion, laying aside all his imperial ornaments, until at the Christmas season he presented himself before the archbishop, and humbly entreated readmission into the church. Ambrose required, as a condition of his granting this, that some practical fruit of repentance should be shown; and the emperor consented to issue a law by which, in order to guard against the effects of sudden anger, the execution of all capital punishments was to be deferred until thirty days after the sentence. Having thus gained the privilege of readmission into the communion of the faithful, Theodosius, on being allowed to enter the church, prostrated himself on the pavement with every demonstration of the deepest grief and humiliation; and Ambrose, in his funeral oration over the emperor, assures us that from that time he never passed a day without recalling to mind the crime into which he had been betrayed by his passion.

The behaviour of Theodosius in this remarkable affair was evidently not the result of weakness or pusillanimity, but of a real feeling of his guilt—a sincere acknowledgment of a higher Power to which all worldly greatness is subject. In order to judge rightly of Ambrose’s conduct, we must dismiss from our minds some recollections of later times, which may be very likely to intrude themselves. The archbishop appears to have been actuated by no other motive than a solemn sense of his duty. He felt the dignity with which his office invested him; he held himself bound, by interposing it in behalf of justice and humanity, to control the excesses of earthly power. His sternness towards the emperor has nothing in common with the assumptions of those who, in after ages, used the names of God and his church to cover their own pride and love of domination.

In the autumn of 391 Theodosius returned to the east, leaving Valentinian in possession, not only of his original dominions, but of those which had been ceded to Maximus after the murder of Gratian. Justina had died in 388, and from that time the young emperor was entirely under the guidance of Ambrose. In 392 he wrote from Vienne, urgently desiring the archbishop to visit him—partly in order to establish a better relation with the Frankish general Arbogast, who had been placed with him by Theodosius as a protector, but had begun to show symptoms of a dangerous ambition; and partly to administer the sacrament of baptism, which Valentinian, according to the custom of the time, had hitherto delayed to receive. Ambrose set out in obedience to the summons; but before his arrival, Valentinian had been murdered by the Frank. Once more Theodosius moved into the west, to put down the rhetorician Eugenius, whom Arbogast had raised to a nominal sovereignty. But within four months after his victory he died at Milan—the last emperor who fully maintained the dignity of the Roman name. Ambrose survived him a little more than two years, and died on Easter eve, 397.

Although paganism lost the ascendency which it had possessed during the brief reign of Julian, it yet for a time enjoyed full toleration. While barbarians threatened the empire, its rulers felt the inexpediency of irritating that large portion of their subjects which adhered to the old religion. Valentinian and his brother, indeed, carried on a searching inquiry after the practice of magical arts, and punished those concerned in it severely—in many cases with death. But the edicts on this subject were only renewals of earlier laws; and the motive of them was not religious but political, inasmuch as the practices of divination and theurgy were connected with speculations and intrigues as to matters of state. These practices were carried on, not by the ignorant vulgar alone, but by members of the old Roman aristocracy, and by the high philosophic party which had been powerful under Julian; and many persons both of the aristocratic and of the philosophical classes were among the victims of Valentinian’s laws. The consultation of the aruspices for innocent purposes was, however, still allowed. Guards of soldiers were allowed to protect the temples, although Christians were exempt from this service. Valentinian even endowed the priesthood with privileges exceeding those which they had received from his heathen predecessors, and in some respects greater than those which the Christians enjoyed; and the orthodox subjects of Valens complained that, while they themselves were subjected to banishment and disabilities on account of their faith, the heathens were freely allowed to practise all the rites of their idolatry—even the impure and frantic worship of Bacchus. In 364 Valentinian forbade nocturnal sacrifices; but on receiving a representation that the Greeks would consider life intolerable if they were deprived of their mysteries, he exempted these from the operation of his law. At a later period, Valentinian and Valens were induced by political causes to prohibit all animal sacrifices; yet the other rites of heathen worship were still permitted, and at Rome and Alexandria, where paganism was strong, the edict was not enforced.

Under Theodosius and the contemporary emperors of the west there was a more decided movement for the suppression of paganism. In 381, and again in 385, Theodosius renewed the laws against sacrifices. In 386 he sent Cynegius, the prefect of the east, into Egypt, with a commission to shut up the temples. But while the law spared the buildings themselves, the zeal of Christians very often exceeded it. So long as the temples were standing, they alarmed one party with the apprehension, and flattered the other with the hope, that a second Julian might arise. In order to remove the occasion of such feelings, many temples were destroyed, and in some cases it was alleged by way of pretext (whether truly or otherwise) that sacrifice had been illegally offered in them. The work of demolition was chiefly incited or executed by monks; in countries where these did not abound—such as Greece—the splendid monuments of heathen architecture were allowed to remain, whether disused, employed as churches, or converted to secular purposes. The celebrated sophist Libanius composed a plea for the temples, which has the form of a speech addressed to the emperor, although it was probably neither delivered before him, nor even presented to him in writing. The orator complains of black-garbed men, more voracious than elephants, and insatiably thirsty, although veiling their sensuality under an artificial paleness; that, although the law forbade no part of paganism except bloody sacrifices, these monks went about committing acts of outrage and plunder; that they treated the priests with violence; that they even seized lands under the pretence that they had been connected with illegal rites; and that, if appeal were made to the shepherds in the cities (i.e. the bishops), the complainants, instead of obtaining any redress, were told that they had been only too gently treated. He traces all the calamities of the time to the change of religion. He appeals to the New Testament precepts in proof that the forcible measures of the Christians were contrary to the spirit which their own faith inculcated. He endeavours to alarm the superstition of his readers, by saying that the service of the ancient deities was still kept up in Egypt, because the Christians themselves feared to risk the fertility of the country by suppressing it.

In no long time this last assertion was put to the test. Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria, a violent man, whose name will be often mentioned hereafter, obtained from the emperor a grant of a temple of Bacchus, and intended to build a church on the site of it. In the course of digging for the foundation of the new building, some indecent symbols used in the worship of Bacchus were found, and these were publicly paraded in mockery of the religion to which they belonged. The pagans, exasperated by this insult to their faith, rose in insurrection, killed a number of Christians, and shut themselves up in the temple of Serapis, which with its precincts formed a vast pile of building, towering over the city, and was regarded as one of the wonders of the world. They made sallies from time to time, slew some Christians, and carried off many prisoners, whom they either compelled to sacrifice, or, in case of refusal, subjected to cruel tortures; some of the prisoners were even put to death by crucifixion. On receiving a report of the matter from the governor of Alexandria, the emperor answered that, as the Christians who had been slain were martyrs, those who had been concerned in their death were not to be punished, but rather, if possible, were to be attracted to the true faith by clemency; but he ordered that the temples of Alexandria should be destroyed. The Serapeum was deserted by its defenders, who had been induced by the governor to attend the public reading of the imperial rescript, and on hearing the sentence against the temples had fled in consternation. The idol of Serapis, the tutelary deity of the city, was of enormous size, and was adorned with jewels and with plates of gold and silver. There was a popular belief that, if it were injured, heaven and earth would go to wreck; and even Christians looked on with anxiety when a soldier, mounting a ladder, raised his axe against the figure. But when it was seen that with impunity he first struck off a cheek, and then cleft one of the knees, the spell was at an end. The head of the god was thrown down, and a swarm of rats rushed forth from it, exciting the disgust and derision of the crowd. The idol was soon broken into pieces, which were dragged into the amphitheatre and burnt. On examining the temple, a discovery was made of infamies by which it had been polluted, and of tricks by which the priests had imposed on the credulity of the worshippers and in consequence of this exposure many persons were converted to the church. The pagan party, however, began to exult when it was found that the rising of the Nile was that year delayed beyond its usual time. The emperor was consulted : “Better”, he answered, “that it should not rise at all, than we should buy the fertility of Egypt by idolatry”. At length the river swelled to a more than ordinary height, and the pagans began to hope that Serapis would avenge himself by an inundation; but they soon had the mortification of seeing the waters subside to their proper level. The temple of the god was demolished, and a church was built on its site, while the other buildings of the Serapeum were preserved. In obedience to the emperor's command, the temples were destroyed at Alexandria and throughout Egypt. The statues were burnt or melted down, with the exception of one, which, we are told, Theophilus preserved as an evidence against paganism, lest the adherents of that system should afterwards deny that they had worshipped objects so contemptible.

The old religion was more powerful in the west than in the east. Most of the high Roman families clung to it—not, apparently, from any real conviction of its truth, but from a feeling of pride in maintaining the traditions of their ancestors, and from unwillingness to undertake the labour of inquiry. A profession of paganism was no bar to the attainment of high offices in the state; and with these the Roman nobles, like their forefathers, ambitiously sought to combine the dignities of the pagan hierarchy. In the capital a vast number of temples and of smaller religious edifices was still devoted to the ancient worship; while in the rural districts of Italy the system was maintained by the connection of its deities with every incident in the round of agricultural labour. Bishops are found reproaching the Christian landowners with the indifference which, disregarding everything but money, allowed the population of their estates to continue in the undisturbed practice of idolatry. Throughout the western provinces generally, the old barbarian religions prevailed in some places; the worship of the Roman gods in others. From the fact that the foundation of many bishoprics in the west is traced to the period between the years 350 and 380, it has been inferred that an organized attack on paganism was then first attempted in those regions.

Gratian, in his earlier years, maintained the principle of religious equality; but the influence of St. Ambrose afterwards produced an important change in his policy, so that this young emperor inflicted heavier blows on paganism than any which his predecessors had ventured to attempt. There was in the senate-house at Rome an altar of Victory, erected after the battle of Actium, at which the senators took the oath of fidelity to the emperor and the laws, and on which libations and incense were offered at the beginning of every meeting. The removal of this altar was the only considerable act by which Constantius had interfered with the religion of the capital; but it was restored by Julian, and continued to hold its place until in 382 Gratian ordered that it should be again removed. A body of senators, headed by Symmachus, the most eloquent orator of his time—a man of eminent personal character, and distinguished by the highest civil and religious offices,—proceeded to Milan for the purpose of requesting that the altar might be replaced. But the Christian party in the senate had already prepossessed the emperor's mind by means of Damasus and Ambrose; and he refused to see the envoys. At the same time he deprived the temples of their lands, withdrew from them all public funds, rendered it illegal to bequeath real property to them, and stripped the vestals and heathen priests of the religious and civil privileges which they had enjoyed. Then perhaps it may have been, and with the hope of effectually appealing to his feelings, that a deputation of the priesthood displayed before him the robe of the Pontifex Maximus—a dignity which had been held by all his predecessors, as well since as before the conversion of Constantine. But Gratian rejected it as unbefitting a Christian.

In 384 a fresh attempt was made on the young Valentinian. Symmachus again appeared at Milan as the chief of a deputation, and delivered to the emperor an eloquent written pleading on behalf of the altar of Victory and of the old religion. He drew a distinction between the emperor’s personal conviction and the duty of his position as ruler of a state which for centuries had worshipped the gods of paganism. He dwelt on the omens connected with the name of Victory, and traced the famines, wars, and other calamities of recent years to the anger of the gods on account of the withholding of their dues. He urged that it was an unworthy act to withdraw the funds by which the pagan worship had been maintained. He personified Rome addressing the emperor as a mother, reminding him of her ancient glories, and professing herself unable to learn any other religion than that by which she had acquired her greatness.

Ambrose, who, on hearing of the application of the pagan party, had written to the emperor, earnestly exhorting him to refuse it, followed up his letter by a formal and elaborate reply to Symmachus. He argued that it was unlawful for a Christian sovereign to countenance a system which he must believe to be hateful to God. It would, he said, be a wrong to the Christian senators if they were compelled to take a part in the sacrifices to Victory; and they must be considered as sharing in the acts of the senate, whether they were personally present at its meetings or not. He met the plea as to the misfortunes of the empire by referring to those of princes who had professed idolatry. The ancient glories of Rome (he said) could not have been derived from the worship of the gods; for her conquered enemies had been of the same religion. Her hoary age would become not less venerable, but more so, by her embracing the truth of the gospel. Christianity had grown under oppression, whereas paganism, according to the statement of its own advocates, depended for its very life on the endowments and emoluments of the priesthood. Heathenism found a difficulty in keeping up the number of its seven vestals, notwithstanding the high privileges attached to the order, whereas multitudes of Christian women had voluntarily chosen a virgin life of poverty and mortification. And what deeds of charity had heathenism to produce against the maintenance of the needy, the redemption of captives, and other such things which were the daily work of Christians?

In reading these rival pleadings, we cannot but be struck by the remarkable contrast in tone between the apologetic diffidence of Symmachus and the triumphant assurance of Ambrose, who in his previous letter had gone so far as to tell the emperor that, if he made the required concession to idolatry, the church would reject him and his offerings. The cause of paganism is rested, not on the truth of doctrine, but on an appeal to historical and patriotic associations. It is evident that, apart from all consideration of the value of their respective arguments, the Christian champion has already in reality gained his cause, and that the petition of Symmachus must be—as it proved to be—unsuccessful.

The pagan party next applied to Theodosius, when in Italy after the death of Maximus. The emperor was at first inclined to yield, but Ambrose swayed him as he had swayed the younger princes. Once more a pagan deputation was sent to Valentinian in Gaul, when he was at a distance both from his colleague and from the archbishop; but this attempt was also a failure.

In 392, an important law was issued by Theodosius for the whole empire. With an elaborate specification it includes all persons of every rank and in every place. Sacrifice and divination, even although performed without any political object, are to be regarded as treasonable, and to be capitally punished. The use of lights, incense, garlands, or libations, and other such lesser acts of idolatry, are to involve the forfeiture of the houses or lands where they are committed. Heavy fines, graduated according to the position of the offenders, are denounced against those who should enter temples; if magistrates should offend in this respect, and their officers do not attempt to prevent them, the officers are also to be fined.

It is probable that the severity of this enactment may have contributed to swell the party of Eugenius, whom the pagans hailed as a deliverer. Whether he himself apostatized is uncertain; but his master, Arbogast, was avowedly a pagan, and during the short period of the rhetorician-emperor’s power, the altar of Victory was replaced, the rites of the old religion were revived in all their completeness, and the confiscated property of the temples was restored. It has been said that Theodosius, on visiting Rome after the defeat of Eugenius, referred the choice between Christianity and paganism to the vote of the senate, and that the gospel was adopted by a majority; but the story is exceedingly improbable, and is perhaps no more than an exaggeration founded on some discussion which took place at Milan between the emperor and a deputation of the senate.

To speak of the age of Theodosius as having witnessed the “ruin” and the “total extinction” of paganism is much beyond the truth. The adherents of the old religion, although debarred from the exercise of its rites, were still allowed to enjoy perfect freedom of thought, and the dignities of the state were open to them. The execution of the laws against it was very partial; as they were exceeded where the Christian party was strong, so where that party was weak they were not enforced, and in some cases the very magistrates to whom they were addressed were pagans. At Rome, the emperor himself was complimented, like his predecessors, by being enrolled among the gods at his death. The statues of the gods were not destroyed; that of Victory was still allowed to remain in the senate-house, although the altar which had been the subject of contention was removed. But yet the old system was evidently doomed. Its remaining strength was not in belief but in habit. The withdrawal of public funds told on it to a degree which would have been impossible if there had been any principle of life in it. The priests, when attacked, succumbed in a manner which indicated an utter want of faith and zeal. Although paganism was common among men of letters, no one of these attempted theological controversy; their efforts in behalf of their religion did not reach beyond pleadings for toleration. St. Jerome speaks of the temples at Rome about this time as left to neglect, disorder, and decay.

Among those of his subjects who professed Christianity, Theodosius was resolved to establish unity of religion. Immediately after the conclusion of the general council of Constantinople, he ordered that all churches should be given up to the Catholics, that no meetings of heretics should be held, and that no buildings should be erected for such meetings. In 383 he summoned a conference of bishops of all parties, with the hope of bringing them to an agreement, but the difference of creeds was found irreconcilable, and in the same year the emperor issued fresh edicts against the Arians. During the remaining years of the reign, frequent laws were directed against heresy—a term which was now no longer restricted to the denial of the leading doctrines of the faith, but was applied also to lesser errors of doctrine and to separation from the communion of the church. The especial objects of the emperor's animosity were Arians, Eunomians, Macedonians, Apollinarians, and Manichaeans. By various enactments, he deprived these sectaries of all right to assemble for worship either in cities or in the country; he confiscated all places in which they should hold meetings; he rendered them incapable of inheriting or bequeathing property, and inflicted other civil disabilities; he forbade them to dispute on religion; he condemned those who should either confer or receive sectarian ordination to pay a penalty of ten pounds weight of gold. Against some classes of heretics he denounced confiscation and banishment; the “elect” of the Manichaeans were even sentenced to death.

Repulsive as such legislation is to the feelings of those who have learnt to acknowledge the impossibility of enforcing religious belief, the effect in a great measure answered the emperor's expectations. Neither heathenism nor sectarianism had much inward strength to withstand the pressure of the laws which required conformity to the church. Crowds of proselytes flocked in, and, amidst the satisfaction of receiving these accessions, it was little asked whether in very many cases the apparent conversion were anything better than a mask for hypocrisy or indifference.

It would seem that the severest edicts of Theodosius were intended only to terrify, and were never actually executed. But the example of inflicting death as the punishment of religious error had already been given in that part of the empire which was subject to the usurper Maximus.

Priscillian was a Spaniard—well-born, rich, learned, eloquent, and skilled in disputation. His doctrines were partly derived through Elpidius, a rhetorician, and Agape, a lady of rank, from an Egyptian named Mark, who had travelled into Spain. They are described as a compound of various heresies—Manichaeism, Gnosticism, Arianism, Photinianism, and Sabellianism—to which was added the practice of astrology and magic. That Priscillian held a dualistic principle appears certain. He admitted the whole canon of Scripture, but by means of allegory, or by altering the text, overcame the difficulties of such parts as did not agree with his system; and like some of the gnostic parties in an earlier age, he relied mainly on some apocryphal writings. His followers are said to have regarded falsehood as allowable for the purpose of concealing their real tenets; they attended the churches, and received the Eucharistic elements, but did not consume them. Priscillian’s precepts were rigidly ascetic; he prescribed separation for married persons; but, like other heresiarchs, he is charged with secretly teaching sensuality and impurity.

It was about the year 378 that the progress of Priscillianism, especially among the female sex, began to attract notice, and in 380-1 it was condemned by a council of Spanish and Aquitanian bishops at Saragossa. Two bishops, however, Salvian and Instantius, took part with Priscillian, and, being reinforced by Hyginus of Cordova, who had once been a vehement opponent of his views, they consecrated him to the see of Avila. The opposite party appealed to the secular power, and, by order of Gratian, the heresiarch and his consecrators were banished from Spain. With the hope of obtaining a reversal of this sentence, Priscillian set out for Rome in company with Salvian and Instantius. In their progress through Aquitania they gained many proselytes, especially at the episcopal city of Elusa (Eauze). At Bordeaux the bishop prevented their entrance into the town, but they found a welcome in the neighbourhood from Euchrotia, the widow of a distinguished poet and orator named Delphidius; and as they moved onwards they were attended by her, with her daughter Procula, and a numerous train of female converts. On arriving at Rome they were unable to obtain an audience of Damasus, and there Salvian died. His companions returning northward, found themselves opposed at Milan by the influence of Ambrose; but by means of bribes and solicitations to persons in high office, they procured from Gratian an order for their restoration to their sees. The proconsul of Spain was won by similar means, and Ithacius and Idacius, the leaders of the opposite party, were banished from that country as disturbers of the public peace.

During the remainder of Gratian's reign, Ithacius, a bold and able man, but of sensual and worldly habits, found himself unable to contend against the corruption by which the Priscillianists influenced the court. When, however, his case appeared desperate, fresh hopes were excited by the report that Maximus had been proclaimed in Britain; and, when the usurper was established at Treves, after the murder of Gratian, Ithacius brought the question before him. Maximus referred it to a council, which was held at Bordeaux. By this assembly Instantius was first heard, and was condemned; whereupon Priscillian, when required to defend himself, appealed to the emperor, and the council allowed the appeal.

Priscillian and his accusers repaired to Treves, where Martin, bishop of Tours, the “apostle of the Gauls”— famed for his sanctity, his miracles, and his successful exertions against idolatry—arrived about the same time. Martin repeatedly implored Ithacius to desist from prosecuting the heretics before a secular tribunal, on which Ithacius told him that he too was a Priscillianite. Martin also represented to the emperor that the trial of an ecclesiastical offence before secular judges was unexampled, and entreated that the matter might be settled in the usual way, by the deposition of the leading heretics from their sees, according to the ecclesiastical condemnation which had been passed on them. His influence was powerful enough to delay the trial while he remained at Treves; and on taking leave of Maximus he obtained a promise that the lives of the accused should be safe. But the usurper was afterwards induced—it is said, by the hope of seizing on Priscillian’s property—to depart from this resolution. The heretics were brought to trial, and by the use of torture were wrought to a confession of impure doctrines and practices. Ithacius, after having urged on the prosecution with great bitterness until the case was virtually decided, devolved the last formal part of the work on a lay advocate—professing that his own episcopal character forbade him to proceed in a cause of blood. Priscillian, Euchrotia, and five of their companions were condemned to death and were beheaded. Instantius was banished to the Scilly islands, and others of the party were sentenced to banishment or confiscation.

Martin again visited the court of Maximus in order to plead for the lives of some of Gratian’s officers, at a time when a number of bishops were assembled for the consecration of Felix to the see of Treves. These bishops, with only one exception, freely communicated with the instigators of the late proceedings, who, fearing the influence of Martin, attempted, although unsuccessfully, to prevent his entering the city. Maximus endeavoured, by elaborate attentions, to draw him into communicating with Ithacius and his party; but the bishop of Tours firmly refused, and they parted in anger. Late at night, Martin was informed that orders had been given for the execution of the officers in whom he was interested, and that two military commissioners were about to be sent into Spain, with orders to extirpate Priscillianism. The information struck him with dismay, not only on account of the peril to Gratian's adherents, but because, from the manner in which he himself and others had been charged with Priscillianism by Ithacius, he knew that the imputation of that heresy would be used as a pretext against orthodox persons of ascetic life; in great anxiety he made his way to the emperor’s presence, where, on condition that Gratian’s officers should be spared, and that the commission against Priscillianism should be revoked, he promised to communicate with the Thracians. Martin shared, accordingly, in the consecration of Felix next day, but refused to sign the act, and immediately left Treves. It is related that, as he was on his way homewards, thinking sadly on his late compliance, an angel appeared to him, who consoled him, but told him he had acted wrongly. From that time, says his biographer, Martin felt in himself an abatement of the power of miracles; and for the remaining sixteen years of his life he avoided all councils and assemblies of bishops.

The execution of Priscillian and his companions was regarded with general horror, alike by Christians and by pagans. St. Ambrose, when on his second mission to Treves, chose rather to risk and to forfeit his object than to communicate with Maximus and the bishops who had been concerned in the deed of blood. Siricius, bishop of Rome, joined in the condemnation of the party which had acted with Ithacius; and their leader was deposed, and died in exile.

Priscillianism did not at once become extinct. The church of France was long disturbed by dissensions which arose out of it. The heresiarch's body was carried from Treves into his native country, where it was reverenced by his partisans as that of a martyr; and his name was used by them in oaths. Many members of the sect were reunited to the church after a council held at Toledo in 400, but a remnant of it is mentioned as still existing at the date of the first council of Braga, in 561.

 

CHAPTER VI SUPPLEMENTARY.