V. The grovelling Ebionite, and the fantastic Docetes, were rejected and

forgotten: the recent zeal against the errors of Apollinaris reduced the

Catholics to a seeming agreement with the double nature of Cerinthus.

But instead of a temporary and occasional alliance, _they_ established,

and we still embrace, the substantial, indissoluble, and everlasting

union of a perfect God with a perfect man, of the second person of the

trinity with a reasonable soul and human flesh. In the beginning of

the fifth century, the _unity_ of the _two natures_ was the prevailing

doctrine of the church. On all sides, it was confessed, that the mode

of their coexistence could neither be represented by our ideas, nor

expressed by our language. Yet a secret and incurable discord was

cherished, between those who were most apprehensive of confounding,

and those who were most fearful of separating, the divinity, and the

humanity, of Christ. Impelled by religious frenzy, they fled with

adverse haste from the error which they mutually deemed most destructive

of truth and salvation. On either hand they were anxious to guard,

they were jealous to defend, the union and the distinction of the two

natures, and to invent such forms of speech, such symbols of doctrine,

as were least susceptible of doubt or ambiguity. The poverty of ideas

and language tempted them to ransack art and nature for every possible

comparison, and each comparison mislead their fancy in the explanation

of an incomparable mystery. In the polemic microscope, an atom is

enlarged to a monster, and each party was skilful to exaggerate the

absurd or impious conclusions that might be extorted from the principles

of their adversaries. To escape from each other, they wandered through

many a dark and devious thicket, till they were astonished by the horrid

phantoms of Cerinthus and Apollinaris, who guarded the opposite issues

of the theological labyrinth. As soon as they beheld the twilight of

sense and heresy, they started, measured back their steps, and were

again involved in the gloom of impenetrable orthodoxy. To purge

themselves from the guilt or reproach of damnable error, they

disavowed their consequences, explained their principles, excused their

indiscretions, and unanimously pronounced the sounds of concord and

faith. Yet a latent and almost invisible spark still lurked among the

embers of controversy: by the breath of prejudice and passion, it

was quickly kindled to a mighty flame, and the verbal disputes of the

Oriental sects have shaken the pillars of the church and state.

The name of Cyril of Alexandria is famous in controversial story, and

the title of _saint_ is a mark that his opinions and his party have

finally prevailed. In the house of his uncle, the archbishop Theophilus,

he imbibed the orthodox lessons of zeal and dominion, and five years of

his youth were profitably spent in the adjacent monasteries of

Nitria. Under the tuition of the abbot Serapion, he applied himself

to ecclesiastical studies, with such indefatigable ardor, that in the

course of _one_ sleepless night, he has perused the four Gospels, the

Catholic Epistles, and the Epistle to the Romans. Origen he detested;

but the writings of Clemens and Dionysius, of Athanasius and Basil, were

continually in his hands: by the theory and practice of dispute, his

faith was confirmed and his wit was sharpened; he extended round his

cell the cobwebs of scholastic theology, and meditated the works of

allegory and metaphysics, whose remains, in seven verbose folios, now

peaceably slumber by the side of their rivals. Cyril prayed and fasted

in the desert, but his thoughts (it is the reproach of a friend) were

still fixed on the world; and the call of Theophilus, who summoned

him to the tumult of cities and synods, was too readily obeyed by the

aspiring hermit. With the approbation of his uncle, he assumed the

office, and acquired the fame, of a popular preacher. His comely person

adorned the pulpit; the harmony of his voice resounded in the cathedral;

his friends were stationed to lead or second the applause of the

congregation; and the hasty notes of the scribes preserved his

discourses, which in their effect, though not in their composition,

might be compared with those of the Athenian orators. The death of

Theophilus expanded and realized the hopes of his nephew. The clergy

of Alexandria was divided; the soldiers and their general supported the

claims of the archdeacon; but a resistless multitude, with voices and

with hands, asserted the cause of their favorite; and after a period of

thirty-nine years, Cyril was seated on the throne of Athanasius.

Chapter XLVII: Ecclesiastical Discord.--Part II.

The prize was not unworthy of his ambition. At a distance from the

court, and at the head of an immense capital, the patriarch, as he was

now styled, of Alexandria had gradually usurped the state and authority

of a civil magistrate. The public and private charities of the city were

blindly obeyed by his numerous and fanatic _parabolani_, familiarized in

their daily office with scenes of death; and the prÊfects of Egypt were

awed or provoked by the temporal power of these Christian pontiffs.

Ardent in the prosecution of heresy, Cyril auspiciously opened his

reign by oppressing the Novatians, the most innocent and harmless of the

sectaries. The interdiction of their religious worship appeared in his

eyes a just and meritorious act; and he confiscated their holy vessels,

without apprehending the guilt of sacrilege. The toleration, and even

the privileges of the Jews, who had multiplied to the number of forty

thousand, were secured by the laws of the CÊsars and Ptolemies, and

a long prescription of seven hundred years since the foundation of

Alexandria. Without any legal sentence, without any royal mandate, the

patriarch, at the dawn of day, led a seditious multitude to the attack

of the synagogues. Unarmed and unprepared, the Jews were incapable of

resistance; their houses of prayer were levelled with the ground, and

the episcopal warrior, after-rewarding his troops with the plunder

of their goods, expelled from the city the remnant of the unbelieving

nation. Perhaps he might plead the insolence of their prosperity, and

their deadly hatred of the Christians, whose blood they had recently

shed in a malicious or accidental tumult. Such crimes would have

deserved the animadversion of the magistrate; but in this promiscuous

outrage, the innocent were confounded with the guilty, and Alexandria

was impoverished by the loss of a wealthy and industrious colony. The

zeal of Cyril exposed him to the penalties of the Julian law; but in a

feeble government and a superstitious age, he was secure of impunity,

and even of praise. Orestes complained; but his just complaints were

too quickly forgotten by the ministers of Theodosius, and too deeply

remembered by a priest who affected to pardon, and continued to hate,

the prÊfect of Egypt. As he passed through the streets, his chariot was

assaulted by a band of five hundred of the Nitrian monks his guards

fled from the wild beasts of the desert; his protestations that he was

a Christian and a Catholic were answered by a volley of stones, and the

face of Orestes was covered with blood. The loyal citizens of Alexandria

hastened to his rescue; he instantly satisfied his justice and revenge

against the monk by whose hand he had been wounded, and Ammonius expired

under the rod of the lictor. At the command of Cyril his body was

raised from the ground, and transported, in solemn procession, to the

cathedral; the name of Ammonius was changed to that of Thaumasius the

_wonderful_; his tomb was decorated with the trophies of martyrdom, and

the patriarch ascended the pulpit to celebrate the magnanimity of an

assassin and a rebel. Such honors might incite the faithful to combat

and die under the banners of the saint; and he soon prompted, or

accepted, the sacrifice of a virgin, who professed the religion of the

Greeks, and cultivated the friendship of Orestes. Hypatia, the daughter

of Theon the mathematician, was initiated in her father's studies;

her learned comments have elucidated the geometry of Apollonius and

Diophantus, and she publicly taught, both at Athens and Alexandria, the

philosophy of Plato and Aristotle. In the bloom of beauty, and in the

maturity of wisdom, the modest maid refused her lovers and instructed

her disciples; the persons most illustrious for their rank or merit

were impatient to visit the female philosopher; and Cyril beheld, with

a jealous eye, the gorgeous train of horses and slaves who crowded the

door of her academy. A rumor was spread among the Christians, that the

daughter of Theon was the only obstacle to the reconciliation of the

prÊfect and the archbishop; and that obstacle was speedily removed. On

a fatal day, in the holy season of Lent, Hypatia was torn from her

chariot, stripped naked, dragged to the church, and inhumanly butchered

by the hands of Peter the reader, and a troop of savage and merciless

fanatics: her flesh was scraped from her bones with sharp oyster shells,

and her quivering limbs were delivered to the flames. The just progress

of inquiry and punishment was stopped by seasonable gifts; but the

murder of Hypatia has imprinted an indelible stain on the character and

religion of Cyril of Alexandria.

Superstition, perhaps, would more gently expiate the blood of a virgin,

than the banishment of a saint; and Cyril had accompanied his uncle

to the iniquitous synod of the Oak. When the memory of Chrysostom was

restored and consecrated, the nephew of Theophilus, at the head of a

dying faction, still maintained the justice of his sentence; nor was it

till after a tedious delay and an obstinate resistance, that he yielded

to the consent of the Catholic world. His enmity to the Byzantine

pontiffs was a sense of interest, not a sally of passion: he envied

their fortunate station in the sunshine of the Imperial court; and he

dreaded their upstart ambition, which oppressed the metropolitans of

Europe and Asia, invaded the provinces of Antioch and Alexandria, and

measured their diocese by the limits of the empire. The long moderation

of Atticus, the mild usurper of the throne of Chrysostom, suspended the

animosities of the Eastern patriarchs; but Cyril was at length awakened

by the exaltation of a rival more worthy of his esteem and hatred. After

the short and troubled reign of Sisinnius, bishop of Constantinople,

the factions of the clergy and people were appeased by the choice of the

emperor, who, on this occasion, consulted the voice of fame, and invited

the merit of a stranger. Nestorius, native of Germanicia, and a monk of

Antioch, was recommended by the austerity of his life, and the eloquence

of his sermons; but the first homily which he preached before the devout

Theodosius betrayed the acrimony and impatience of his zeal. "Give me, O

CÊsar!" he exclaimed, "give me the earth purged of heretics, and I will

give you in exchange the kingdom of heaven. Exterminate with me the

heretics; and with you I will exterminate the Persians." On the

fifth day as if the treaty had been already signed, the patriarch of

Constantinople discovered, surprised, and attacked a secret conventicle

of the Arians: they preferred death to submission; the flames that were

kindled by their despair, soon spread to the neighboring houses, and the

triumph of Nestorius was clouded by the name of _incendiary_. On either

side of the Hellespont his episcopal vigor imposed a rigid formulary of

faith and discipline; a chronological error concerning the festival of

Easter was punished as an offence against the church and state. Lydia

and Caria, Sardes and Miletus, were purified with the blood of the

obstinate Quartodecimans; and the edict of the emperor, or rather of the

patriarch, enumerates three-and-twenty degrees and denominations in

the guilt and punishment of heresy. But the sword of persecution which

Nestorius so furiously wielded was soon turned against his own breast.

Religion was the pretence; but, in the judgment of a contemporary saint,

ambition was the genuine motive of episcopal warfare.

In the Syrian school, Nestorius had been taught to abhor the confusion

of the two natures, and nicely to discriminate the humanity of his

_master_ Christ from the divinity of the _Lord_ Jesus. The Blessed

Virgin he revered as the mother of Christ, but his ears were offended

with the rash and recent title of mother of God, which had been

insensibly adopted since the origin of the Arian controversy. From the

pulpit of Constantinople, a friend of the patriarch, and afterwards the

patriarch himself, repeatedly preached against the use, or the abuse,

of a word unknown to the apostles, unauthorized by the church, and which

could only tend to alarm the timorous, to mislead the simple, to amuse

the profane, and to justify, by a seeming resemblance, the old genealogy

of Olympus. In his calmer moments Nestorius confessed, that it might

be tolerated or excused by the union of the two natures, and

the communication of their _idioms_: but he was exasperated, by

contradiction, to disclaim the worship of a new-born, an infant Deity,

to draw his inadequate similes from the conjugal or civil partnerships

of life, and to describe the manhood of Christ as the robe, the

instrument, the tabernacle of his Godhead. At these blasphemous sounds,

the pillars of the sanctuary were shaken. The unsuccessful competitors

of Nestorius indulged their pious or personal resentment, the Byzantine

clergy was secretly displeased with the intrusion of a stranger:

whatever is superstitious or absurd, might claim the protection of

the monks; and the people were interested in the glory of their virgin

patroness. The sermons of the archbishop, and the service of the altar,

were disturbed by seditious clamor; his authority and doctrine were

renounced by separate congregations; every wind scattered round the

empire the leaves of controversy; and the voice of the combatants on a

sonorous theatre reÎchoed in the cells of Palestine and Egypt. It was

the duty of Cyril to enlighten the zeal and ignorance of his innumerable

monks: in the school of Alexandria, he had imbibed and professed the

incarnation of one nature; and the successor of Athanasius consulted

his pride and ambition, when he rose in arms against another Arius, more

formidable and more guilty, on the second throne of the hierarchy. After

a short correspondence, in which the rival prelates disguised their

hatred in the hollow language of respect and charity, the patriarch of

Alexandria denounced to the prince and people, to the East and to the

West, the damnable errors of the Byzantine pontiff. From the East,

more especially from Antioch, he obtained the ambiguous counsels of

toleration and silence, which were addressed to both parties while they

favored the cause of Nestorius. But the Vatican received with open arms

the messengers of Egypt. The vanity of Celestine was flattered by the

appeal; and the partial version of a monk decided the faith of the pope,

who with his Latin clergy was ignorant of the language, the arts, and

the theology of the Greeks. At the head of an Italian synod, Celestine

weighed the merits of the cause, approved the creed of Cyril, condemned

the sentiments and person of Nestorius, degraded the heretic from his

episcopal dignity, allowed a respite of ten days for recantation and

penance, and delegated to his enemy the execution of this rash and

illegal sentence. But the patriarch of Alexandria, while he darted the

thunders of a god, exposed the errors and passions of a mortal; and his

twelve anathemas still torture the orthodox slaves, who adore the

memory of a saint, without forfeiting their allegiance to the synod of

Chalcedon. These bold assertions are indelibly tinged with the colors

of the Apollinarian heresy; but the serious, and perhaps the sincere

professions of Nestorius have satisfied the wiser and less partial

theologians of the present times.

Yet neither the emperor nor the primate of the East were disposed to

obey the mandate of an Italian priest; and a synod of the Catholic, or

rather of the Greek church, was unanimously demanded as the sole remedy

that could appease or decide this ecclesiastical quarrel. Ephesus, on

all sides accessible by sea and land, was chosen for the place, the

festival of Pentecost for the day, of the meeting; a writ of summons was

despatched to each metropolitan, and a guard was stationed to protect

and confine the fathers till they should settle the mysteries of heaven,

and the faith of the earth. Nestorius appeared not as a criminal, but

as a judge; be depended on the weight rather than the number of his

prelates, and his sturdy slaves from the baths of Zeuxippus were armed

for every service of injury or defence. But his adversary Cyril was more

powerful in the weapons both of the flesh and of the spirit. Disobedient

to the letter, or at least to the meaning, of the royal summons, he was

attended by fifty Egyptian bishops, who expected from their patriarch's

nod the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. He had contracted an intimate

alliance with Memnon, bishop of Ephesus. The despotic primate of Asia

disposed of the ready succors of thirty or forty episcopal votes: a

crowd of peasants, the slaves of the church, was poured into the city to

support with blows and clamors a metaphysical argument; and the people

zealously asserted the honor of the Virgin, whose body reposed within

the walls of Ephesus. The fleet which had transported Cyril from

Alexandria was laden with the riches of Egypt; and he disembarked a

numerous body of mariners, slaves, and fanatics, enlisted with blind

obedience under the banner of St. Mark and the mother of God. The

fathers, and even the guards, of the council were awed by this martial

array; the adversaries of Cyril and Mary were insulted in the streets,

or threatened in their houses; his eloquence and liberality made a daily

increase in the number of his adherents; and the Egyptian soon computed

that he might command the attendance and the voices of two hundred

bishops. But the author of the twelve anathemas foresaw and dreaded the

opposition of John of Antioch, who, with a small, but respectable, train

of metropolitans and divines, was advancing by slow journeys from the

distant capital of the East. Impatient of a delay, which he stigmatized

as voluntary and culpable, Cyril announced the opening of the synod

sixteen days after the festival of Pentecost. Nestorius, who depended

on the near approach of his Eastern friends, persisted, like his

predecessor Chrysostom, to disclaim the jurisdiction, and to disobey

the summons, of his enemies: they hastened his trial, and his accuser

presided in the seat of judgment. Sixty-eight bishops, twenty-two of

metropolitan rank, defended his cause by a modest and temperate protest:

they were excluded from the councils of their brethren. Candidian,

in the emperor's name, requested a delay of four days; the profane

magistrate was driven with outrage and insult from the assembly of the

saints. The whole of this momentous transaction was crowded into

the compass of a summer's day: the bishops delivered their separate

opinions; but the uniformity of style reveals the influence or the hand

of a master, who has been accused of corrupting the public evidence

of their acts and subscriptions. Without a dissenting voice, they

recognized in the epistles of Cyril the Nicene creed and the doctrine of

the fathers: but the partial extracts from the letters and homilies of

Nestorius were interrupted by curses and anathemas: and the heretic was

degraded from his episcopal and ecclesiastical dignity. The sentence,

maliciously inscribed to the new Judas, was affixed and proclaimed in

the streets of Ephesus: the weary prelates, as they issued from the

church of the mother of God, were saluted as her champions; and her

victory was celebrated by the illuminations, the songs, and the tumult

of the night.

On the fifth day, the triumph was clouded by the arrival and indignation

of the Eastern bishops. In a chamber of the inn, before he had wiped

the dust from his shoes, John of Antioch gave audience to Candidian, the

Imperial minister; who related his ineffectual efforts to prevent or to

annul the hasty violence of the Egyptian. With equal haste and violence,

the Oriental synod of fifty bishops degraded Cyril and Memnon from their

episcopal honors, condemned, in the twelve anathemas, the purest venom

of the Apollinarian heresy, and described the Alexandrian primate as a

monster, born and educated for the destruction of the church. His throne

was distant and inaccessible; but they instantly resolved to bestow

on the flock of Ephesus the blessing of a faithful shepherd. By the

vigilance of Memnon, the churches were shut against them, and a strong

garrison was thrown into the cathedral. The troops, under the command of

Candidian, advanced to the assault; the outguards were routed and put to

the sword, but the place was impregnable: the besiegers retired; their

retreat was pursued by a vigorous sally; they lost their horses, and

many of their soldiers were dangerously wounded with clubs and stones.

Ephesus, the city of the Virgin, was defiled with rage and clamor,

with sedition and blood; the rival synods darted anathemas and

excommunications from their spiritual engines; and the court of

Theodosius was perplexed by the adverse and contradictory narratives of

the Syrian and Egyptian factions. During a busy period of three months,

the emperor tried every method, except the most effectual means of

indifference and contempt, to reconcile this theological quarrel. He

attempted to remove or intimidate the leaders by a common sentence, of

acquittal or condemnation; he invested his representatives at Ephesus

with ample power and military force; he summoned from either party eight

chosen deputies to a free and candid conference in the neighborhood of

the capital, far from the contagion of popular frenzy. But the Orientals

refused to yield, and the Catholics, proud of their numbers and of their

Latin allies, rejected all terms of union or toleration. The patience

of the meek Theodosius was provoked; and he dissolved in anger this

episcopal tumult, which at the distance of thirteen centuries assumes

the venerable aspect of the third cumenical council. "God is my

witness," said the pious prince, "that I am not the author of this

confusion. His providence will discern and punish the guilty. Return

to your provinces, and may your private virtues repair the mischief and

scandal of your meeting." They returned to their provinces; but the same

passions which had distracted the synod of Ephesus were diffused over

the Eastern world. After three obstinate and equal campaigns, John of

Antioch and Cyril of Alexandria condescended to explain and embrace: but

their seeming reunion must be imputed rather to prudence than to reason,

to the mutual lassitude rather than to the Christian charity of the

patriarchs.

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