IN GAUL AND BRITAIN
§ 1. _At Lérins_
Patrick has not told us where, or in what circumstances, he parted from
his companions, nor has he related his subsequent adventures. When he
found himself free his first thought would have been, we should suppose,
to make his way back to his home in Britain. We saw that he probably
succeeded in escaping from his fellow-travellers in Italy, and his
easiest way home might in that case have been by the coast road through
Liguria and Provence to Marseilles. From whatever quarter he started, he
seems to have reached the coast of Provence. For here at length, amid
perplexing, broken clues, we have a definite trace of his path; here at
length we can fix an episode in his life to a small plot of ground.
[Sidenote: MONASTERY OF LERINUS]
In the later part of the fourth century the influence of the Eastern on
the Western mind had displayed itself not only in theological thought,
but also in the spread of asceticism and the foundation of monastic
societies, especially through the influence of men like Ambrose, Martin
of Tours, and Jerome. In choosing their lonely dwelling-places, the eyes
of anchorets did not overlook the little deserted islands which lay here
and there off the coast in the western Mediterranean. Island cloisters
studded the coast of Italy “like a necklace” before the end of the fourth
century, and soon they began to appear off the coast of Provence. It was
perhaps while Patrick was a slave in Ireland that a traveller, weary of
the world, came back from the east to his native Gaul, and, seeking a
spot where he might found a little society of monks who desired to live
far from the turmoil of cities, he was directed to the uncouth islet of
Lerinus, which no man tilled or approached because it was infested by
snakes. Honoratus took possession of it and reclaimed it for cultivation.
Wells were dug, and sweet water flowed “in the midst of the bitterness of
the sea.” Vines were planted and cells were built, and a little monastic
community gathered round Honoratus, destined within a few years to be
more illustrious than any of the older island cloisters. Lerinus is the
outermost of the two islands which lie opposite to the cape of Cannes,
smaller and lower than its fellow Lero, which screens it from view,
bearing at the present day the name of the man who made it significant
in history.[37] It is difficult to realise as one walks round it to-day
and sees a few stones, relics of its ancient monks, that at one time
it exercised a great if unobtrusive influence in southern Gaul. Its
peaceful, sequestered cells, “withdrawn into the great sea,” _in mare
magnum recedentia_, had a wonderful attraction for men who had been
shipwrecked in the tumbling world, or who desired unbroken hours for
contemplation—_vacare et videre_.
Patrick found a refuge in the island cloister of Honoratus, and in that
island we are for the first time treading ground where we have reason to
think that he lived for a considerable time. We should like to know the
circumstances of his admission to this community, but his own picture of
the state of his mind enables us to understand how easily he could have
been moved by the ascetic attractions of the monastery to interrupt his
homeward journey and lead a religious life in the _sacrae solitudines_ of
Lerinus for a few years.
Among the men of some note who sojourned in the monastery in its early
days was Hilary, who afterwards became Bishop of Arelate; Maximus, who
was the second abbot, and then Bishop of Reii; Lupus, who subsequently
held the see of Trecasses; Vincentius, who taught and wrote in the
cloister; and Eucherius, who composed, among other works, a treatise in
praise of the hermit’s life. Eucherius had built a hut for himself and
his wife Galla, aloof from the rest of the brotherhood, in the larger
island of Lero. It was remembered how one day Honoratus sent a messenger
across in a boat with a letter on a wax tablet, and Eucherius, seeing
the abbot’s writing, said, “To the wax you have restored its honey.”
As the monastic spirit grew and spread, many a stranger set his face
to Lerinus, hoping, as men hoped greatly in those days, that “he might
break through the wall of the passions and ascend by violence to the
kingdom of heaven.” Among those who joined the new society was Faustus, a
compatriot of Patrick. But it is unknown whether he was at Lérins at this
time; perhaps he was still only a child, for we first hear of him in the
abbotship of Maximus, who succeeded Honoratus,[38] and whom he himself
was destined to succeed.[39] Faustus had enjoyed an education such as
Patrick never acquired. He was a student of ancient philosophy, and a
master of style, as style was then understood. He was afterwards the
valued friend and correspondent of the greatest man of letters of that
century, Sidonius Apollinaris. Crude and rustic must Patrick have seemed
to his fellow-countryman, if they met at Lérins. Yet to-day the name of
Faustus has passed out of men’s memory, and Patrick’s is familiar in the
households of western Christendom, and in far-western Christendom beyond
the ocean.
[Sidenote: RETURN TO BRITAIN]
There can be no doubt that the years which he spent at Lérins exercised
an abiding influence on Patrick. He was brought under the spell of the
monastic ideal; and though his life was not to be sequestered, but out
in the active world of men, monastic societies became a principal and
indispensable element in his idea of a Christian Church. It is improbable
that during these years of seclusion he was stirred, even faintly, by
the idea of devoting himself to the work of spreading Christianity in
the barbarous land associated with his slavery and shame. But he was
profoundly convinced that during the years of his bondage he had been
held as in the hollow of God’s hand; whatever hopes or ambitions he may
have cherished in his boyhood must have been driven from his heart by the
stress of his experience, and in such a frame of mind the instinct of
a man of that age was to turn to a religious life. At Lérins, perhaps,
his desire, so far as he understood it, was to remain a monk; _uenire ad
eremum summa perfectio est_. But there were energies and feelings in him
which such a life would not have contented. At the end of a few years he
left the monastery to visit his kinsfolk in Britain, and there he became
conscious of the true destiny of his life.
§ 2. _At Home in Britain_
[Sidenote: PATRICK’S DREAM]
When Patrick returned to his old home, his kinsfolk welcomed him “as
a son,”[40] and implored him to stay and not part from them again.
But if he had any thought of yielding to their persuasions, it was
dismissed when he became aware, all at once, that the aim of his life
was determined. The idea of labouring among the heathen, which may have
been gradually, though quite unconsciously, gathering force and secretly
winning possession of his brain, suddenly stood full-grown, as it were,
face to face with him in a sensible shape. In a vision of the night it
seemed to him that he saw a man standing by his side. It was a certain
Victoricus. We may suppose that Patrick had made this man’s acquaintance
in Gaul, and that he was interested in Ireland, but his only appearance
in history is in Patrick’s dream. To the dreamer he seemed to have come
from Ireland, and in his hand he held a bundle of letters. “And he gave
me one of these, and I read the beginning of the letter, which contained
‘the voice of the Irish.’ And as I read the beginning of it, I fancied
that I heard the voice of the folk who were near the wood of Fochlad,
nigh to the western sea. And this was the cry: ‘We pray thee, holy youth,
to come and again walk amongst us as before.’ I was pierced to the heart
and could read no more; and thereupon I awoke.” This is the dreamer’s
description of his dream. But, as the story was told in later days, the
cry that pierced his heart was uttered by the young children of Fochlad,
even by the children still unborn. There is nothing of this in Patrick’s
words, yet the tradition betrays a true instinct of the significance of
the dream. It brings out more intensely and pathetically how the forlorn
condition of the helpless unbaptized, condemned to everlasting punishment
by the doctrine of the Church, could appeal irresistibly to the pity of a
Christian who held that rigorous doctrine.
[Sidenote: PELAGIUS]
This doctrine was closely connected with the question which, at this
time, above all other questions, was agitating western Christendom;
and, strange to say, the controversy had been opened by a man of
Irish descent. It is possible that, as some claim, Pelagius was born
in Ireland, but the evidence rather points to the conclusion that
he belonged to an Irish family settled in western Britain. His name
represents, doubtless, some Irish sea-name such as Muirchu, “hound of
the sea.” While Patrick was serving in Ireland, Pelagius was in Rome,
thinking out one of the great problems which has constantly perplexed the
meditations of men, and promulgating a view which arrested the interest
or compelled the attention of leaders of theological opinion from York
to Carthage, from Carthage to Jerusalem. For some years the Roman Empire
echoed with his fame.
Pelagianism is not one of those dull, lifeless heresies which have no
more interest than the fact that they once possessed for a short space
the minds of men a long while dead. At this period the onward movement
of human thought was confined within the lines of theology, couched in
theological language, and we must distinguish those questions which,
like the Arian and Pelagian, involve speculations of perpetual human
interest from controversies which touch merely the formulae of a
special theology. We need not enter upon the actual course of the debate
in which Pelagius and Augustine represented two opposed tendencies of
religious and philosophic thought, destined to reappear in the time of
the Reformation, but we are concerned with the general significance of
the questions involved. The chief and central principle of Pelagius was
the recognition of freewill as an inalienable property of human nature.
In every action a man is free to choose between good and evil, and his
choice is not determined, and has not been predetermined, by the Deity
who originally gave to man that power of choosing. Pelagius regarded
freewill as the palladium and surrogate of the dignity of human nature.
This view logically excluded the doctrine of original sin, inherited from
Adam, as well as the doctrine of predestination; it implied that infants
are born sinless, and that baptism is not necessary to save them from
hell; it implied that it was perfectly possible, however difficult, for
a man who had not embraced the Christian faith, or been bathed in the
mystical waters of baptism, to lead a sinless life. It is clear that this
thesis, as the opponents of Pelagius saw and said, struck at the very
root of the theory of the “Atonement”—at least as the “Atonement” was
crudely conceived by the Church in dependence on the old Jewish story
of the fall of Adam. Pelagius does not seem to have succeeded in really
working his theory of human nature into the Christian system, which he
fully accepted, and this was the logical weakness of his position in the
theological debate.
Pelagius was not a mere speculator. Himself a monk and rigorous liver,
he had in view the practical aim of raising the morality of Christians,
and his particular view of human nature and “sin” bore directly on this
practical aim. For if the purpose of religion is to realise the ideal of
holiness and draw men up, above the level of commonplace sensual life,
to high and heavenly things, and if the doctrine of sin was framed by
the Church with this view, it might well have seemed to an observer that
there lay a practical danger in such a doctrine. There was a danger that,
if men were taught that they were born evil and impotent to resist evil
by efforts of their own nature, the moral consciousness would be stifled
and paralysed by a belief so dishonouring to humanity. The assertion
of the freedom of the will by Pelagius, and his denial of innate sin,
represent a reaction of the moral consciousness against the dominance of
the religious consciousness, and although he speaks within the Church, he
is really asserting the man against the Christian, defending the honour
of the “reasonable creature.”[41]
To the surveyor of the history of humanity this is the interest which
Pelagius possesses, an interest which is generally obscured in the dust
of controversy. He was the champion of human nature as such, which the
Christian Church, in pursuance of its high objects, dishonoured and
branded as essentially depraved. He was the champion of all the good
men who lived “on the ridge of the world,” as men of his own race would
have said, before ever Jesus was born, of all those whose minds were
fixed on invisible things, of all the noble and sinless pagans, were
they many or few. This was the merit of Pelagius, to have attempted to
rescue the dignity of human nature oppressed by the doctrine of sin;
and we who realise how much our race owes to the peoples of antiquity
may feel particular sympathy with him who dared to say that, before
Jesus, sinless men had lived upon earth.[42] Of few men have the Celts
of Ireland or Britain better reason to be proud than of the bold thinker
who went forth to speak holy words for humanity against the inhuman
side of the Christian faith. He was ranged against the authorities of
Augustine and Jerome, but he was not fond of fighting; he wished to keep
the whole question out of the region of dogma, and let it remain a matter
of opinion; he never sought to get his own views sanctioned by a council
of the Church. But the strife and the defeat are of subordinate interest.
What interests us is that Pelagius, himself originally stimulated by
Rufinus, stimulated thinking men throughout the West, and induced many
to modify their views about freewill and congenital sin.
The repose of Lérins was not uninvaded by the sounds of this debate,
and some of its more notable monks showed hereafter that they had been
profoundly influenced by the arguments of Pelagius. The subject therefore
must have been familiar to Patrick; and the terrible doctrine, impugned
by the Scottish heretic, that infants, being sinful at their birth, incur
the everlasting punishment of the wicked until they are redeemed through
the mysterious rite of baptism, might well affect his imagination.
Nothing could have done more to quicken his concern for the unbaptized
people by the western sea than a vivid realisation of this doctrine.
[Sidenote: PATRICK’S RESOLVE]
The self-revealing dream convinced Patrick that he was destined to go
as missioner and helper to Ireland—_ad ultimum terrae_, to the limit of
the world. Yet he felt hesitation and uncertainty, distrusting his own
fitness for such an enterprise, conscious of the defective education of
his youth; and he felt a natural repugnance to return to the land of
captivity. His self-questionings and diffidence were in the end overcome
by the mastering instinct of his soul; and to his religious imagination
the instinct seemed to speak within him, like an inner voice, confirming
his purpose. Such experiences befall men of a certain cast and mould
when an impulse, which they can hardly justify when they weigh it in the
scales of the understanding, affects them so strongly that it seems the
objective compulsion or admonition of some external intelligence.
§ 3. _At Auxerre_
It is probable that when he was finally convinced of the destination
of his life, and knew that he must seek the woods of Fochlad, Patrick
did not tarry long in Britain, but returned to Gaul in order to prepare
himself for carrying out his task. It was necessary not only to train
himself, but to win support and countenance for his enterprise from
influential authorities in the Church. Even if Patrick had been already
in clerical orders, it would have been the mere adventure of a wild
fanatic, and would have excited general disapprobation, to set sail in
the first ship that left the mouth of the Severn for the Irish coast,
and, trusting simply in his own zeal and the divine protection, set out
to convert the heathen of Connaught. Such were not the conditions of the
task which he aspired to perform. He knew that, if he was to succeed, he
must come with support and resources and fellow-workers, accredited and
in touch with the Christian communities which already existed in Ireland.
He needed not only theological study and the counsels of men of leading
and light, but material support and official recognition.
[Sidenote: STUDY AT AUXERRE]
At this time the church of Autissiodorum seems to have already won a high
position in northern Gaul through the virtues of its bishop, Amator.
It was soon to win a higher fame still through the greater talents of
Amator’s successor. The town of Autissiodorum, situated on the river
Yonne, is no exception to the general rule that the towns of Gaul have
preserved the old Gallic names, whether place-names or tribe-names,
throughout Roman and German domination alike; and Auxerre, like most
towns in Gaul, unlike most towns in Britain, has had a continuous life
through all changes since the days when it was Patrick’s home in the
reign of Honorius and Valentinian. For it was Auxerre that Patrick chose
as the place of his study; perhaps he was introduced to Amator by British
ecclesiastics. It may be that there was some special link or intimacy
between the church of Auxerre and one of the British sees. But it is
not unlikely that there was a further motive in determining Patrick’s
choice. Perhaps some particular interest had been exhibited at Auxerre
in the Christian communities of Ireland. There is, in fact, evidence
which points to the conclusion that Auxerre was a resort of Irish
Christians for theological study. Patrick was ordained deacon by Bishop
Amator before long, and it would seem that two other young men, who were
afterwards to help the spread of Christianity in Ireland, were ordained
at the same time. One of them was a native of south Ireland; his Irish
name was Fith, but he took the name of Iserninus. The nationality of his
companion, Auxilius, which the Irish made into Ausaille, is unknown.
Fourteen years passed, at the smallest computation, from the ordination
of Patrick till the day came for setting forth to his chosen task.
This long delay can hardly be accounted for by the necessities of an
ecclesiastical training. There must have been other impediments and
difficulties. He intimates himself that he was not encouraged. Those to
whom he looked up for counsel considered his project rash and himself
unqualified for such a work. His _rusticitas_, or want of liberal
education, was urged against him; and perhaps a failure to win support is
a sufficient explanation of the delay.
[Sidenote: BISHOP GERMANUS]
At all events Patrick, one would suppose, had a discreet, if not a
sympathetic, guide in the head of the church of Auxerre. Amator had
been succeeded by one who was to bear a more illustrious name in the
ecclesiastical annals of Gaul. Germanus is a case, common in Gaul and
elsewhere at this period, of a distinguished layman who held office in
the State exchanging secular for ecclesiastical office. In the year 429
it devolved upon him to visit Britain, and this enterprise must have had
a particular interest for Patrick. The poison of the serpent Pelagius,
as his opponents named him, had been spreading, in a diluted form, in
the island; some of the writings of its British advocates are still
extant. The orthodox pillars of the British Church were alarmed, and they
sent pressing messages across the sea to invite their Gallic brethren
to send able champions over to overcome the heresy. It was probably to
Auxerre and Troyes, in the first instance, that they made their appeal,
and it is recorded that at a synod held at Troyes it was decided that
Germanus should proceed to Britain along with Lupus, Bishop of Troyes,
who had been formerly a monk of Lérins. Whatever may be the truth about
this alleged Gallic synod, Germanus went with higher authority and
prestige; for he went under the direct sanction of Celestine, the Bishop
of Rome. We learn that this sanction was gained by the influence of the
deacon Palladius, who may possibly have been a deacon of Germanus. The
authoritative mission from Gaul seems to have crushed the heretics, and
their doctrine was compelled to hide its head in Britain for a few years
to come.
Celestine was approached soon afterwards on a subject which touched
Patrick more closely than the suppression of heresy in Britain. His
attention was drawn to the position of the Christian communities in
Ireland. The man who interested himself in this matter was the same
deacon, Palladius, who had interested himself in the extirpation of
British Pelagianism. It is remarkable that this first appearance of
Irish Christianity in ecclesiastical history should be associated,
both chronologically and in the person of Palladius, with the Pelagian
question. Now we may be sure that some overture or message had come
from the Christian bodies in Ireland, whether to Britain, or Gaul, or
to Rome itself; for the Bishop of Rome would hardly have sent them a
bishop unless they had intimated that they wanted one.[43] It is, then,
not impossible, though it is not proven, that the motive of the Irish
Christians in taking such a step at this moment may have been the same
Pelagian difficulty which had caused the appeal from Britain.[44] The
question, which must have occurred sooner or later, of organising the
small Christian societies of Ireland may possibly have been brought to a
head by the Pelagian debate. And if the Pelagian heresy had gained any
ground in Ireland, nothing would have been more natural than that the
fact should have come before the notice of Germanus while he was dealing
with the same question in Britain.
[Sidenote: THE IRISH CHRISTIANS]
This conjecture, which is suggested unconstrainedly by the general
situation, may supply us with the key for reading between the lines of
a passage in Patrick’s autobiographical sketch. He complains of the
treachery of a most intimate friend, whom he does not name, but who
seems, from the circumstances, to have been an ecclesiastic, whether
of Britain or Gaul. To this friend he had communicated his inmost
thoughts,—_credidi etiam animam_,—and had evidently received sympathy
from him in regard to his cherished plan of working in Ireland.
His friend had told him emphatically that he must be made a bishop.
And afterwards, when the question of choosing a bishop for Ireland
practically arose, his friend was active in urging his claims. Now it was
in Britain that the matter was discussed when Patrick’s friend, though
Patrick himself was not there, showed such loyal zeal in his behalf.
Here, then, we have an incident which exactly fits into the situation
when Germanus was fighting against heresy in Britain in A.D. 429. If this
heresy existed in Ireland, it was an element in the problem with which
Germanus had to deal, even with regard to British interests solely; for,
if the false doctrine were permitted to spread unchecked in the Irish
communities, it might constitute a serious danger to the neighbouring
church in Britain. If, as was most likely to occur, orthodox members
of the Irish communities sent representatives to Germanus while he was
in Britain and asked for some intervention, the question of sending a
bishop to guide the Irish Christians in the right path and organise
their society became at once practical and urgent. This then, it seems
reasonable to suggest, may have been the occasion on which Patrick’s
friend designated him as the suitable man for the post.
The opportunity for which Patrick had been waiting long seemed to have
come at last. Probably a certain interest in Irish Christianity had been
already felt in Gaul, and especially at Auxerre; but it was now brought
under the notice of the head of Christendom. There seemed a prospect now
for Patrick to undertake the work on which he had set his heart under
high sanction and with sufficient support. But Celestine’s choice fell on
another. The deacon Palladius, who had been active in these affairs, was
prepared to go to Ireland, and Celestine consecrated him bishop for the
purpose (A.D. 431). The choice, if it was Celestine’s own, was perfectly
natural. We must remember that the first and chief consideration of
Celestine was the welfare and orthodoxy of Irish believers, not the
conversion of Irish unbelievers. He was called upon to meet the need of
the Christian communities; the further spreading of the faith among the
heathen was an ulterior consideration. The qualification, therefore,
which he sought in the new bishop may not have been burning zeal for
preaching to pagans, but rather experience and capacity for dealing with
the Pelagian heresy. Palladius had taken a prominent part in coping
with this heresy in Britain, and it is a probable conjecture that he
had accompanied Germanus thither. Possibly representatives of the Irish
Christians may have intimated that they wished for his appointment.
§ 4. _Palladius in Ireland (A.D. 431-2)_
[Sidenote: PALLADIUS]
The brief chronicle of the visit of Palladius to Ireland is that he came
and went within a year. It is generally assumed that he had not the
strength or tact to deal with the situation; that he departed in despair;
that his mission was a failure. But our evidence hardly warrants this
conclusion. We are told that he proceeded from Ireland to the land of
the Picts in north Britain, and died there. But we cannot be sure that
he did not intend to return. It is with north Leinster[45] and the hills
of Wicklow that tradition associates the brief episode of Palladius. But
we may be tempted to suspect that the expedition of Palladius to the
country of the Picts was not an abandonment of Ireland, but was, on the
contrary, part of his work in Ireland, and that it was not the Picts of
north Britain, but some Christian communities existing among the Picts of
Dalaradia in north Ireland, who were the object of his concern. The most
probable conclusion seems that the episcopate of Palladius in Ireland was
cut short, not by a voluntary desertion of his post, but by death.
[Sidenote: CHURCHES OF PALLADIUS]
We should like to know where were the dwelling-places of the Christians
to whom Palladius was sent. Between the port where Wicklow of the Vikings
now is, the port where Palladius landed, and the lonely glen of the two
lakes by whose shores a cluster of churches was afterwards to spring up,
stretched the lands of the children of Garrchu, and tradition said that
the chief of this tribe regarded Palladius with disfavour. But his short
sojourn is also associated with the foundation of three churches. It is
possible that we may seek the site of a little house for praying, built
by him or his disciples, on a high wooded hill that rises sheer enough on
the left bank of the river Avoca, close to a long slanting hollow, down
which, over grass or bushes, the eye catches the glimmer of the stream
winding in the vale below, and rises beyond to the higher hills which
bound the horizon. Here may have been the “House of the Romans,” Tech
na Rómán, and Tigroney, the shape in which this name is concealed, may
be a memorial of the first missioner of Rome. But farther west, beyond
the hills, we can determine with less uncertainty another place which
tradition associated with the activity of Palladius, in the neighbourhood
of one of the royal seats of the lords of Leinster. From the high rath of
Dunlavin those kings had a wide survey of their realm. Standing there,
one can see westward to Mount Bladma, and northward, across the Plain of
Liffey, into the kingdom of Meath. More than a league eastward from this
fortress Palladius is said to have founded a church which was known as
the “domnach” or “Lord’s house” of the High-field, _Domnach Airte_, in a
hilly region which is strewn with the remnants of ancient generations.
The original church of this place has long since vanished, and its
precise site cannot be guessed with certainty, but it gave a permanent
name to the place. At Donard we feel with some assurance that we are at
one of the earliest homes of the Christian faith in Ireland, not the
earliest that existed, but the earliest to which we can give a name.
There was a third church, seemingly the most important of those which
Palladius is said to have founded, Cell Fine, “the Church of the
Tribes,” in which his tablets and certain books and relics which he had
brought from Rome were preserved. Here, and perhaps here only, in the
place, unknown to us, where his relics lay, was preserved the memory of
Palladius, a mere name. Whatever his qualities may have been, he was
too short a time in Ireland to have produced a permanent impression.
The historical significance of his appearance there does not lie in any
slight ecclesiastical or theological successes he may have accomplished.
It is significant because it was the first manifestation in Ireland of
the authority of Rome. The secular arm of Rome, in days when Rome was
mightier—the arm of Agricola, the arm of Theodosius—had never reached
the Scottic coast; it was not till after the mother of the Empire had
been besieged and despoiled by barbarian invaders that her new spiritual
dominion began to reach out to those remote shores which her worldly
power had never sought to gain. The coming of Palladius was the first
link in the chain which bound Ireland—for some centuries loosely—to the
spiritual centre of western Europe.
But when, seeking vainly for traces of this first comer in the vales
of the children of Garrchu or on the holy hill of Donard, we see the
memorials in earth and stone of days before Palladius, we are reminded
that, if his coming is significant, it is a fact more important still
that no secular messengers of Rome had come before him. The superstitious
and primitive customs of the island were protected and secured, pure
and uncontaminated, by the barrier of sundering seas. If one of the
early Roman Emperors had annexed Ireland to their British provinces,
ideas of city life and civil government and administration would have
been introduced which might have proved a more powerful solvent than
Christianity of Celtic and Iberian barbarism. A Roman colonia, a number
of Roman towns with municipal organisation, might, in a couple of hundred
years, have produced a greater change in civilisation than all the little
clerical communities which sprang up in the three or four centuries
after the coming of Palladius. It would have been the task of the
Roman government to put an end to the incessant petty wars between the
kingdoms and tribes, _pacisque imponere morem_. But the absence of such
civilising influence protected and preserved the native traditions, and
the curiosity of those who study the development of the human mind may be
glad that Ireland lay safe and undisturbed at the end of the world, and
that Palladius, nearly a hundred years after the death of Constantine,
was the first emissary from Rome.
§ 5. _Consecration of Patrick (A.D. 432)_
[Sidenote: CONSECRATION OF PATRICK]
The appointment of Palladius as bishop for the Scots had naturally
affected the plans of Patrick. There was no longer any motive for delay
in setting about the accomplishment of his project. There was no reason
why, with the support of Auxerre and Bishop Germanus, he should not set
forth, along with whatever coadjutors he could muster, and, under the
auspices of the new bishop, begin the conversion of the heathen. All was
arranged for his enterprise in the following year (A.D. 432), and the
tradition is that he had already set out from Auxerre, accompanied by
Segitius, an elderly presbyter, when the news reached Gaul that Palladius
was dead. The announcement was brought by some of the companions of
Palladius, and Patrick’s plans were once more interrupted. But only for
a moment. The circumstances seem to imply that there was a distinct
understanding that he was to be the successor of Palladius, and Germanus
consecrated him bishop immediately. And so it came about that, in the
end, he started for the field of his work invested with the authority and
office which would render his labours most effective.[46]
Considerable preparations had, doubtless, been necessary. To carry out
the ambitious scheme of converting heathen lands, there was needed not
only a company of fellow-workers, but a cargo of “spiritual treasures”
and ecclesiastical gear for the equipment of the new communities which
were to be founded.[47] Money and treasure were indispensable, and
however simple Patrick’s faith may have been in the intrinsic potency of
the gospel which he was inspired to preach, he was a man of thoroughly
practical mind, and he knew that silver and gold and worldly wealth
would be needed in dealing with pagan princes, and in the effective
establishment of clerical communities.
* * * * *
The foregoing account of Patrick’s setting forth for the field of his
labours is based on a critical examination of the oldest sources. In
later times men wished to believe that he, too, like Palladius, was
consecrated by Celestine.[48] Such a consecration seemed both to add a
halo of dignity to the national saint and to link his church more closely
to the apostolic seat. We have no means of knowing whether Patrick set
out before or after the death of Celestine,[49] but in any case the pious
story is inconsistent with the oldest testimonies. Nor, even if there
were room for doubt, would the question involve any point of theoretical
or practical importance. By virtue of what had already happened,
Ireland was, in principle, as closely linked to Rome as any western
church. The circumstances of the consecration and mission of Palladius
were significant; but whether his successor was ordained at Rome or at
Auxerre, whether he was personally known to the Roman pontiff or not, was
a matter of little moment. It will not be amiss, however, to dwell more
fully on the situation.
[Sidenote: AUTHORITY OF ROMAN SEE]
The position of the Roman see at this period in the Western Church is
often wrongly represented, or vaguely understood. At the end of the
fourth century the bishops of Rome, beyond their acknowledged primacy in
Christendom, possessed at least two important rights which secured them
a large influence in the ecclesiastical affairs of the western provinces
of the Empire.[50] The Roman see was recognised by imperial decrees of
Valentinian I. and Gratian as a court to which clergy might appeal from
the decisions of provincial councils in any part of the western portion
of the Empire. Of not less practical importance was another distinctive
prerogative, which, though not recognised by any formal enactment, was
admitted and acted upon by the churches of the west. The Roman Church
was regarded as the model church, and when doubtful points of discipline
arose, the bishops of the Gallic or other provinces used to consult the
Bishop of Rome for guidance, not as to a particular case, but as to a
general principle. The answers of the Roman bishops to such questions are
what are called _decretals_. No decretals are preserved older than those
of Damasus,[51] and perhaps it was in his pontificate that the practice
of such applications for advice became general. The motive of the custom
is evident. It was to preserve uniformity of discipline throughout the
Church and prevent the upgrowth of divergent practices. But those who
consulted the Roman pontiff were not in any way bound to accept his
ruling. The decretal was an answer to a question; it was not a command.
Those who accepted it were merely imitating the Roman see; they were not
obeying it.
The appellate jurisdiction, and the decretals which were gradually to be
converted from letters of advice into letters of command, were the chief
foundations on which the spiritual empire of Rome grew up. But in the
latter part of the fourth century its nascent authority was confronted
by a serious danger in the shape of a rival. When Milan instead of
Rome became the imperial residence in Italy, the see of Milan assumed
immediately a new importance and prestige. Its bishop soon came to be
regarded as an authority to which appeals might be addressed, as well as
to the Bishop of Rome. This new dignity was justified by the personality
of Ambrose, who then occupied the see, but it was due to the presence
of the Augustus. If his presence had been lasting, it is possible that
Mediolanum would have become in regard to Rome what Constantinople
became, because it was the Imperial city, in regard to Alexandria and
Antioch. But the danger passed away when the Emperor Honorius migrated to
Ravenna, though the consequences of the transient rivalry of Milan with
Rome can be traced for a few years longer.
For the further development of the spiritual authority of Rome two things
were necessary—tact and imperial support. Bishop Zosimus possessed
neither, and his brief pontificate did as much as could be done within
two short years to injure the prestige of the apostolic seat. He was
smitten on one cheek by the synods of Africa, he was smitten on the other
by the Gallic bishops at the Council of Turin.[52] He intervened in the
Pelagian controversy, and was obliged to eat his own words. But his
inglorious pontificate remains a landmark,[53] because he was the first
to make a strenuous attempt to exercise sovran rights which the western
churches had never admitted or been asked to admit—rights which a more
competent pontiff afterwards secured. The indiscretions of Zosimus were
atoned for by more moderate successors, but the most consummate tact and
adroitness would never have won the powers of intervention which he had
claimed and the Gallic bishops had repudiated, if Pope Leo had not gained
the ear of the Emperor. In A.D. 445, one of the greatest dates in the
history of the growth of the papal power, the Emperor Valentinian III.
conferred on the Bishop of Rome sovran authority in the western provinces
which were still under imperial sway.[54]
But in the meantime, though southern Gaul might resist Zosimus and
disregard Celestine when they attempted to assert a right of control,
though Celestine might discern in the power of the see of Arles and in
the tendencies of the monks of Lérins forces adverse to Roman influence,
no Gallic bishop would have thought of questioning the appellate
jurisdiction or the moral authority of the Roman see, as exercised before
the days of Zosimus. Germanus of Auxerre might sympathise with Hilary
of Arles in his struggle with Pope Leo, but in dealing with heresy
in Britain he had acted cordially with Pope Celestine. No one could
ascribe more importance than Vincentius of Lérins to the decisions of
the “apostolic seat.”[55] It would be a grave mistake to infer from the
disputes which cluster round Arles that the bishops of Gaul had ceased in
any way to acknowledge the older claims of Rome or to reverence it as the
head of Christendom.
[Sidenote: THE ROMAN SEE]
When a new ecclesiastical province was to be added to western
Christendom, it was to Rome, naturally, that an appeal would be made. It
was to the Bishop of Rome, as representing the unity of the Church, that
the Christians of Ireland, desiring to be an organised portion of that
unity, would naturally look to speed them on their way. His recognition
of Ireland as a province of the spiritual federation of which he was
the acknowledged head, would be the most direct and effective means of
securing for it an established place among the western churches. If,
then, they asked Celestine either to choose a bishop for them, or to
confirm their own choice and consecrate a bishop of their choosing,
they adopted exactly the course which we might expect. But once this
step was taken, once the Roman bishop had given his countenance and
sanction, it was a matter of indifference who consecrated his successor.
There was significance in the consecration at Rome of the first bishop
of the new province; there would have been no particular significance
in such a consecration in the case of the second any more than in the
case of the third. It was an accident that Patrick was consecrated in
Gaul. If Palladius had not been cut off, and if Patrick had proceeded,
as he intended, to Ireland in the capacity of a simple deacon, he might
afterwards have been called to succeed Palladius by the choice of the
Irish Christians and received episcopal ordination wherever it was most
convenient. The essential point is that by the sending of Palladius,
Ireland had become one of the western churches, and therefore, like
its fellows, looked to the see of Rome as the highest authority in
Christendom. Unless, at the very moment of incorporation, they were
to repudiate the unity of the Church, the Christians of Ireland could
not look with other eyes than the Christians of Gaul at the appellate
jurisdiction of the Roman bishop, and the moral weight of his decretals.