In the fever of the times, the sense, or rather the sound of a syllable,

was sufficient to disturb the peace of an empire. The Trisagion (thrice

holy,) "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts!" is supposed, by the

Greeks, to be the identical hymn which the angels and cherubim eternally

repeat before the throne of God, and which, about the middle of

the fifth century, was miraculously revealed to the church of

Constantinople. The devotion of Antioch soon added, "who was crucified

for us!" and this grateful address, either to Christ alone, or to the

whole Trinity, may be justified by the rules of theology, and has been

gradually adopted by the Catholics of the East and West. But it had

been imagined by a Monophysite bishop; the gift of an enemy was at first

rejected as a dire and dangerous blasphemy, and the rash innovation had

nearly cost the emperor Anastasius his throne and his life. The people

of Constantinople was devoid of any rational principles of freedom; but

they held, as a lawful cause of rebellion, the color of a livery in the

races, or the color of a mystery in the schools. The Trisagion, with

and without this obnoxious addition, was chanted in the cathedral by two

adverse choirs, and when their lungs were exhausted, they had recourse

to the more solid arguments of sticks and stones; the aggressors were

punished by the emperor, and defended by the patriarch; and the crown

and mitre were staked on the event of this momentous quarrel. The

streets were instantly crowded with innumerable swarms of men, women,

and children; the legions of monks, in regular array, marched, and

shouted, and fought at their head, "Christians! this is the day of

martyrdom: let us not desert our spiritual father; anathema to the

ManichÊan tyrant! he is unworthy to reign." Such was the Catholic cry;

and the galleys of Anastasius lay upon their oars before the palace,

till the patriarch had pardoned his penitent, and hushed the waves

of the troubled multitude. The triumph of Macedonius was checked by a

speedy exile; but the zeal of his flock was again exasperated by the

same question, "Whether one of the Trinity had been crucified?" On

this momentous occasion, the blue and green factions of Constantinople

suspended their discord, and the civil and military powers were

annihilated in their presence. The keys of the city, and the standards

of the guards, were deposited in the forum of Constantine, the principal

station and camp of the faithful. Day and night they were incessantly

busied either in singing hymns to the honor of their God, or in

pillaging and murdering the servants of their prince. The head of his

favorite monk, the friend, as they styled him, of the enemy of the Holy

Trinity, was borne aloft on a spear; and the firebrands, which had

been darted against heretical structures, diffused the undistinguishing

flames over the most orthodox buildings. The statues of the emperor were

broken, and his person was concealed in a suburb, till, at the end of

three days, he dared to implore the mercy of his subjects. Without his

diadem, and in the posture of a suppliant, Anastasius appeared on the

throne of the circus. The Catholics, before his face, rehearsed their

genuine Trisagion; they exulted in the offer, which he proclaimed by

the voice of a herald, of abdicating the purple; they listened to the

admonition, that, since _all_ could not reign, they should previously

agree in the choice of a sovereign; and they accepted the blood of two

unpopular ministers, whom their master, without hesitation, condemned to

the lions. These furious but transient seditions were encouraged by the

success of Vitalian, who, with an army of Huns and Bulgarians, for

the most part idolaters, declared himself the champion of the Catholic

faith. In this pious rebellion he depopulated Thrace, besieged

Constantinople, exterminated sixty-five thousand of his

fellow-Christians, till he obtained the recall of the bishops, the

satisfaction of the pope, and the establishment of the council

of Chalcedon, an orthodox treaty, reluctantly signed by the dying

Anastasius, and more faithfully performed by the uncle of Justinian. And

such was the event of the _first_ of the religious wars which have been

waged in the name and by the disciples, of the God of peace.

Chapter XLVII: Ecclesiastical Discord.--Part IV.

Justinian has been already seen in the various lights of a prince, a

conqueror, and a lawgiver: the theologian still remains, and it affords

an unfavorable prejudice, that his theology should form a very prominent

feature of his portrait. The sovereign sympathized with his subjects in

their superstitious reverence for living and departed saints: his Code,

and more especially his Novels, confirm and enlarge the privileges

of the clergy; and in every dispute between a monk and a layman, the

partial judge was inclined to pronounce, that truth, and innocence,

and justice, were always on the side of the church. In his public and

private devotions, the emperor was assiduous and exemplary; his prayers,

vigils, and fasts, displayed the austere penance of a monk; his fancy

was amused by the hope, or belief, of personal inspiration; he had

secured the patronage of the Virgin and St. Michael the archangel; and

his recovery from a dangerous disease was ascribed to the miraculous

succor of the holy martyrs Cosmas and Damian. The capital and the

provinces of the East were decorated with the monuments of his religion;

and though the far greater part of these costly structures may be

attributed to his taste or ostentation, the zeal of the royal architect

was probably quickened by a genuine sense of love and gratitude towards

his invisible benefactors. Among the titles of Imperial greatness, the

name of _Pious_ was most pleasing to his ear; to promote the temporal

and spiritual interest of the church was the serious business of his

life; and the duty of father of his country was often sacrificed to that

of defender of the faith. The controversies of the times were congenial

to his temper and understanding and the theological professors must

inwardly deride the diligence of a stranger, who cultivated their art

and neglected his own. "What can ye fear," said a bold conspirator to

his associates, "from your bigoted tyrant? Sleepless and unarmed, he

sits whole nights in his closet, debating with reverend graybeards, and

turning over the pages of ecclesiastical volumes." The fruits of these

lucubrations were displayed in many a conference, where Justinian might

shine as the loudest and most subtile of the disputants; in many a

sermon, which, under the name of edicts and epistles, proclaimed to the

empire the theology of their master. While the Barbarians invaded the

provinces, while the victorious legion marched under the banners of

Belisarius and Narses, the successor of Trajan, unknown to the camp,

was content to vanquish at the head of a synod. Had he invited to these

synods a disinterested and rational spectator, Justinian might have

learned, "_that_ religious controversy is the offspring of arrogance

and folly; _that_ true piety is most laudably expressed by silence and

submission; _that_ man, ignorant of his own nature, should not presume

to scrutinize the nature of his God; and _that_ it is sufficient for us

to know, that power and benevolence are the perfect attributes of the

Deity."

Toleration was not the virtue of the times, and indulgence to rebels has

seldom been the virtue of princes. But when the prince descends to the

narrow and peevish character of a disputant, he is easily provoked to

supply the defect of argument by the plenitude of power, and to chastise

without mercy the perverse blindness of those who wilfully shut their

eyes against the light of demonstration. The reign of Justinian was

a uniform yet various scene of persecution; and he appears to have

surpassed his indolent predecessors, both in the contrivance of his laws

and the rigor of their execution. The insufficient term of three months

was assigned for the conversion or exile of all heretics; and if he

still connived at their precarious stay, they were deprived, under

his iron yoke, not only of the benefits of society, but of the common

birth-right of men and Christians. At the end of four hundred years, the

Montanists of Phrygia still breathed the wild enthusiasm of perfection

and prophecy which they had imbibed from their male and female apostles,

the special organs of the Paraclete. On the approach of the Catholic

priests and soldiers, they grasped with alacrity the crown of martyrdom

the conventicle and the congregation perished in the flames, but these

primitive fanatics were not extinguished three hundred years after

the death of their tyrant. Under the protection of their Gothic

confederates, the church of the Arians at Constantinople had braved the

severity of the laws: their clergy equalled the wealth and magnificence

of the senate; and the gold and silver which were seized by the

rapacious hand of Justinian might perhaps be claimed as the spoils of

the provinces, and the trophies of the Barbarians. A secret remnant of

Pagans, who still lurked in the most refined and most rustic conditions

of mankind, excited the indignation of the Christians, who were perhaps

unwilling that any strangers should be the witnesses of their intestine

quarrels. A bishop was named as the inquisitor of the faith, and his

diligence soon discovered, in the court and city, the magistrates,

lawyers, physicians, and sophists, who still cherished the superstition

of the Greeks. They were sternly informed that they must choose without

delay between the displeasure of Jupiter or Justinian, and that their

aversion to the gospel could no longer be distinguished under the

scandalous mask of indifference or impiety. The patrician Photius,

perhaps, alone was resolved to live and to die like his ancestors: he

enfranchised himself with the stroke of a dagger, and left his tyrant

the poor consolation of exposing with ignominy the lifeless corpse of

the fugitive. His weaker brethren submitted to their earthly monarch,

underwent the ceremony of baptism, and labored, by their extraordinary

zeal, to erase the suspicion, or to expiate the guilt, of idolatry.

The native country of Homer, and the theatre of the Trojan war, still

retained the last sparks of his mythology: by the care of the same

bishop, seventy thousand Pagans were detected and converted in Asia,

Phrygia, Lydia, and Caria; ninety-six churches were built for the new

proselytes; and linen vestments, Bibles, and liturgies, and vases of

gold and silver, were supplied by the pious munificence of Justinian.

The Jews, who had been gradually stripped of their immunities, were

oppressed by a vexatious law, which compelled them to observe the

festival of Easter the same day on which it was celebrated by the

Christians. And they might complain with the more reason, since the

Catholics themselves did not agree with the astronomical calculations of

their sovereign: the people of Constantinople delayed the beginning of

their Lent a whole week after it had been ordained by authority; and

they had the pleasure of fasting seven days, while meat was exposed for

sale by the command of the emperor. The Samaritans of Palestine were a

motley race, an ambiguous sect, rejected as Jews by the Pagans, by the

Jews as schismatics, and by the Christians as idolaters. The abomination

of the cross had already been planted on their holy mount of Garizim,

but the persecution of Justinian offered only the alternative of baptism

or rebellion. They chose the latter: under the standard of a desperate

leader, they rose in arms, and retaliated their wrongs on the lives, the

property, and the temples, of a defenceless people. The Samaritans were

finally subdued by the regular forces of the East: twenty thousand were

slain, twenty thousand were sold by the Arabs to the infidels of Persia

and India, and the remains of that unhappy nation atoned for the crime

of treason by the sin of hypocrisy. It has been computed that one

hundred thousand Roman subjects were extirpated in the Samaritan war,

which converted the once fruitful province into a desolate and smoking

wilderness. But in the creed of Justinian, the guilt of murder could not

be applied to the slaughter of unbelievers; and he piously labored to

establish with fire and sword the unity of the Christian faith.

With these sentiments, it was incumbent on him, at least, to be always

in the right. In the first years of his administration, he signalized

his zeal as the disciple and patron of orthodoxy: the reconciliation of

the Greeks and Latins established the _tome_ of St. Leo as the creed of

the emperor and the empire; the Nestorians and Eutychians were exposed.

on either side, to the double edge of persecution; and the four synods

of Nice, Constantinople, Ephesus, and _Chalcedon_, were ratified by the

code of a Catholic lawgiver. But while Justinian strove to maintain the

uniformity of faith and worship, his wife Theodora, whose vices were not

incompatible with devotion, had listened to the Monophysite teachers;

and the open or clandestine enemies of the church revived and multiplied

at the smile of their gracious patroness. The capital, the palace, the

nuptial bed, were torn by spiritual discord; yet so doubtful was the

sincerity of the royal consorts, that their seeming disagreement was

imputed by many to a secret and mischievous confederacy against the

religion and happiness of their people. The famous dispute of the Three

Chapters, which has filled more volumes than it deserves lines, is

deeply marked with this subtile and disingenuous spirit. It was now

three hundred years since the body of Origen had been eaten by the

worms: his soul, of which he held the preexistence, was in the hands

of its Creator; but his writings were eagerly perused by the monks of

Palestine. In these writings, the piercing eye of Justinian descried

more than ten metaphysical errors; and the primitive doctor, in the

company of Pythagoras and Plato, was devoted by the clergy to the

_eternity_ of hell-fire, which he had presumed to deny. Under the

cover of this precedent, a treacherous blow was aimed at the council of

Chalcedon. The fathers had listened without impatience to the praise

of Theodore of Mopsuestia; and their justice or indulgence had restored

both Theodore of Cyrrhus, and Ibas of Edessa, to the communion of the

church. But the characters of these Oriental bishops were tainted with

the reproach of heresy; the first had been the master, the two others

were the friends, of Nestorius; their most suspicious passages were

accused under the title of the _three chapters_; and the condemnation

of their memory must involve the honor of a synod, whose name was

pronounced with sincere or affected reverence by the Catholic world. If

these bishops, whether innocent or guilty, were annihilated in the sleep

of death, they would not probably be awakened by the clamor which, after

the a hundred years, was raised over their grave. If they were already

in the fangs of the dÊmon, their torments could neither be aggravated

nor assuaged by human industry. If in the company of saints and angels

they enjoyed the rewards of piety, they must have smiled at the idle

fury of the theological insects who still crawled on the surface of the

earth. The foremost of these insects, the emperor of the Romans, darted

his sting, and distilled his venom, perhaps without discerning the true

motives of Theodora and her ecclesiastical faction. The victims were no

longer subject to his power, and the vehement style of his edicts could

only proclaim their damnation, and invite the clergy of the East to

join in a full chorus of curses and anathemas. The East, with some

hesitation, consented to the voice of her sovereign: the fifth general

council, of three patriarchs and one hundred and sixty-five bishops, was

held at Constantinople; and the authors, as well as the defenders, of

the three chapters were separated from the communion of the saints, and

solemnly delivered to the prince of darkness. But the Latin churches

were more jealous of the honor of Leo and the synod of Chalcedon: and

if they had fought as they usually did under the standard of Rome, they

might have prevailed in the cause of reason and humanity. But their

chief was a prisoner in the hands of the enemy; the throne of St. Peter,

which had been disgraced by the simony, was betrayed by the cowardice,

of Vigilius, who yielded, after a long and inconsistent struggle, to

the despotism of Justinian and the sophistry of the Greeks. His apostasy

provoked the indignation of the Latins, and no more than two bishops

could be found who would impose their hands on his deacon and successor

Pelagius. Yet the perseverance of the popes insensibly transferred to

their adversaries the appellation of schismatics; the Illyrian, African,

and Italian churches were oppressed by the civil and ecclesiastical

powers, not without some effort of military force; the distant

Barbarians transcribed the creed of the Vatican, and, in the period of a

century, the schism of the three chapters expired in an obscure angle of

the Venetian province. But the religious discontent of the Italians

had already promoted the conquests of the Lombards, and the Romans

themselves were accustomed to suspect the faith and to detest the

government of their Byzantine tyrant.

Justinian was neither steady nor consistent in the nice process of

fixing his volatile opinions and those of his subjects. In his youth he

was, offended by the slightest deviation from the orthodox line; in

his old age he transgressed the measure of temperate heresy, and

the Jacobites, not less than the Catholics, were scandalized by his

declaration, that the body of Christ was incorruptible, and that his

manhood was never subject to any wants and infirmities, the inheritance

of our mortal flesh. This _fantastic_ opinion was announced in the last

edicts of Justinian; and at the moment of his seasonable departure, the

clergy had refused to subscribe, the prince was prepared to persecute,

and the people were resolved to suffer or resist. A bishop of Treves,

secure beyond the limits of his power, addressed the monarch of the East

in the language of authority and affection. "Most gracious Justinian,

remember your baptism and your creed. Let not your gray hairs be defiled

with heresy. Recall your fathers from exile, and your followers from

perdition. You cannot be ignorant, that Italy and Gaul, Spain and

Africa, already deplore your fall, and anathematize your name. Unless,

without delay, you destroy what you have taught; unless you exclaim

with a loud voice, I have erred, I have sinned, anathema to Nestorius,

anathema to Eutyches, you deliver your soul to the same flames in

which _they_ will eternally burn." He died and made no sign. His death

restored in some degree the peace of the church, and the reigns of his

four successors, Justin Tiberius, Maurice, and Phocas, are distinguished

by a rare, though fortunate, vacancy in the ecclesiastical history of

the East.

The faculties of sense and reason are least capable of acting on

themselves; the eye is most inaccessible to the sight, the soul to the

thought; yet we think, and even feel, that _one will_, a sole principle

of action, is essential to a rational and conscious being. When

Heraclius returned from the Persian war, the orthodox hero consulted his

bishops, whether the Christ whom he adored, of one person, but of two

natures, was actuated by a single or a double will. They replied in the

singular, and the emperor was encouraged to hope that the Jacobites of

Egypt and Syria might be reconciled by the profession of a doctrine,

most certainly harmless, and most probably true, since it was taught

even by the Nestorians themselves. The experiment was tried without

effect, and the timid or vehement Catholics condemned even the semblance

of a retreat in the presence of a subtle and audacious enemy. The

orthodox (the prevailing) party devised new modes of speech, and

argument, and interpretation: to either nature of Christ they speciously

applied a proper and distinct energy; but the difference was no longer

visible when they allowed that the human and the divine will were

invariably the same. The disease was attended with the customary

symptoms: but the Greek clergy, as if satiated with the endless

controversy of the incarnation, instilled a healing counsel into the

ear of the prince and people. They declared themselves monothelites,

(asserters of the unity of will,) but they treated the words as new,

the questions as superfluous; and recommended a religious silence as the

most agreeable to the prudence and charity of the gospel. This law of

silence was successively imposed by the _ecthesis_ or exposition

of Heraclius, the _type_ or model of his grandson Constans; and the

Imperial edicts were subscribed with alacrity or reluctance by the four

patriarchs of Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, and Antioch. But the

bishop and monks of Jerusalem sounded the alarm: in the language, or

even in the silence, of the Greeks, the Latin churches detected a

latent heresy: and the obedience of Pope Honorius to the commands of

his sovereign was retracted and censured by the bolder ignorance of his

successors. They condemned the execrable and abominable heresy of the

Monothelites, who revived the errors of Manes, Apollinaris, Eutyches,

&c.; they signed the sentence of excommunication on the tomb of St.

Peter; the ink was mingled with the sacramental wine, the blood of

Christ; and no ceremony was omitted that could fill the superstitious

mind with horror and affright. As the representative of the Western

church, Pope Martin and his Lateran synod anathematized the perfidious

and guilty silence of the Greeks: one hundred and five bishops of Italy,

for the most part the subjects of Constans, presumed to reprobate his

wicked _type_, and the impious _ecthesis_ of his grandfather; and to

confound the authors and their adherents with the twenty-one notorious

heretics, the apostates from the church, and the organs of the devil.

Such an insult under the tamest reign could not pass with impunity.

Pope Martin ended his days on the inhospitable shore of the Tauric

Chersonesus, and his oracle, the abbot Maximus, was inhumanly chastised

by the amputation of his tongue and his right hand. But the same

invincible spirit survived in their successors; and the triumph of the

Latins avenged their recent defeat, and obliterated the disgrace of the

three chapters. The synods of Rome were confirmed by the sixth general

council of Constantinople, in the palace and the presence of a new

Constantine, a descendant of Heraclius. The royal convert converted the

Byzantine pontiff and a majority of the bishops; the dissenters, with

their chief, Macarius of Antioch, were condemned to the spiritual and

temporal pains of heresy; the East condescended to accept the lessons of

the West; and the creed was finally settled, which teaches the Catholics

of every age, that two wills or energies are harmonized in the person of

Christ. The majesty of the pope and the Roman synod was represented by

two priests, one deacon, and three bishops; but these obscure Latins

had neither arms to compel, nor treasures to bribe, nor language to

persuade; and I am ignorant by what arts they could determine the lofty

emperor of the Greeks to abjure the catechism of his infancy, and to

persecute the religion of his fathers. Perhaps the monks and people of

Constantinople were favorable to the Lateran creed, which is indeed the

least reasonable of the two: and the suspicion is countenanced by the

unnatural moderation of the Greek clergy, who appear in this quarrel

to be conscious of their weakness. While the synod debated, a fanatic

proposed a more summary decision, by raising a dead man to life: the

prelates assisted at the trial; but the acknowledged failure may serve

to indicate, that the passions and prejudices of the multitude were not

enlisted on the side of the Monothelites. In the next generation,

when the son of Constantine was deposed and slain by the disciple of

Macarius, they tasted the feast of revenge and dominion: the image or

monument of the sixth council was defaced, and the original acts were

committed to the flames. But in the second year, their patron was cast

headlong from the throne, the bishops of the East were released from

their occasional conformity, the Roman faith was more firmly replanted

by the orthodox successors of Bardanes, and the fine problems of the

incarnation were forgotten in the more popular and visible quarrel of

the worship of images.

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