SURVEY OF THE FIRST DECADE OF THE REIGN OF THEODOSIUS—HIS
CHARACTER—HIS EFFORTS FOR THE EXTIRPATION OF PAGANISM
AND HERESY—THE APOLOGIES OF SYMMACHUS AND LIBANIUS. A.D.
379-389.
Before Chrysostom had laboured two full years in “confirming the souls
of the disciples” at Antioch, that city became the scene of events
memorable in history; and events in which the great preacher played an
honourable and distinguished part.
The foremost man of the age, not only by position but also to a
great extent in character, was Theodosius the Emperor; Theodosius
the Great, deservedly so called in spite of one prominent defect in
character, and a few glaring misdeeds which tarnish his reputation. The
military exploits of his father, Theodosius the elder, had provoked
the jealousy of the court[272] and cost him his life, and the son,
who had manifested ability almost equal, in serving under him both
by land and sea against Scots and Saxons, Moors and Goths, was glad
to escape a similar ungrateful return for his services, by retiring
to the obscurity of his native village in Spain. He was disgraced
when the Empire had been liberated from danger by the exertions of
his father and himself; but in the hour of its utmost jeopardy, and
direst distress, he was recalled to more than his former position. The
total defeat and death of Valens, and the almost extermination of his
army before Hadrianople in A.D. 378, placed the Empire at the mercy
of victorious barbarians within the frontier, and on the edge of the
horizon more storm-clouds of Gothic or Hunnish invasion were lowering.
There was but one person to whom the mind of Gratian, the young Emperor
of the West, and his advisers, overwhelmed by the prospect of impending
calamity, instinctively turned as capable of saving the State in this
crisis. For three years Theodosius had been quietly cultivating his
farm between Valladolid and Segovia, when he was summoned to accept the
title of Augustus, together with all the responsibilities and perils
which attended the possessor, at such a time, of that venerable name.
He was equal to the situation; handsome with a manly beauty, courageous
and determined of purpose, just and politic in intention if not always
in act, he was endowed with some of the noblest qualities of a soldier
and a statesman, by which to rescue and reorganise a panic-stricken
and crumbling State. This is not the place to narrate the military
achievements of Theodosius. The original materials for information
respecting them are scanty; but they have been collected and arranged
by that historian whose indefatigable industry brings order out of
confusion, and whose luminous style lights up with interest even
the darkest and most meagre annals.[273] It is sufficient to remind
the reader of Gibbon, that Theodosius subdued the Goths, not in any
one or two great battles, but by frequent and skilfully contrived
engagements on a smaller scale. He thus gradually revived the drooping
courage and discipline of the imperial troops, and wore out the enemy.
The several tribes, on their submission, were settled in the waste
tracts of country, which they were to occupy free of taxation, on the
wise condition that they kept the land in a state of cultivation.
So a numerous colony of Visigoths was established in Thrace, and of
Ostrogoths in Phrygia and Lydia. The ability of Theodosius is proved
more by the results of his energy than by anything that we know of the
manner in which he accomplished them. He not only vanquished the Goths,
but arrested the progress of the usurper Maximus in the West, who was
leading his victorious legions to Italy, flushed with success after
the ignominious flight and assassination of Gratian. Theodosius was
not in a position, surrounded as he was by half-vanquished barbarians,
to dispute the passage of the conqueror; but by assuming a firm tone
in negotiations, he secured for Valentinian, Gratian’s brother and
successor, the sovereignty of Italy, Africa, and Western Illyricum,
surrendering for the present to the usurper the regions north of the
Alps.
Theodosius was a Christian; as a Spaniard he was a Trinitarian, and as
a soldier he was anxious to establish one uniform type of religious
faith and ecclesiastical discipline throughout the Empire. But such a
task proved more impracticable than the reduction of military foes.
Neither Paganism nor Arianism could be extinguished in a few years
by suppressive edicts. Theodosius himself had been baptized in the
first year of his reign, A.D. 380, when his life was threatened by a
severe illness, and he had then announced his will and pleasure that
his own solemn declaration of faith should be accepted by his subjects
also. That faith which was “professed by the Pontiff Damasus, and
Peter, Bishop of Alexandria” was to be the faith of the Empire. “Let
us believe the sole deity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,
under an equal majesty and a pious Trinity. We authorise the followers
of this doctrine to assume the title of Catholic Christians, and as we
judge that all others are extravagant madmen, we brand them with the
infamous name of heretics.”[274] Their places of assembly were not to
enjoy the title of churches, and they themselves were to expect severe
civil penalties as well as the Divine condemnation. Damophilus, the
Arian Bishop of Constantinople, preferred exile to signing the creed
of Nice; and Gregory of Nazianzus was conducted by the Emperor in
person through the streets of Constantinople (though not without a
strong guard) to occupy the episcopal throne. A project for another
general council (after the Council of Constantinople, A.D. 381) was
entertained but abandoned, for the factious demeanour of the several
prelates and their partisans on their arrival did not augur a very
successful settlement of differences by that method. The Emperor fell
back, for the accomplishment of his object, on his own authority. On
July 25, A.D. 383, an edict was posted in Constantinople, prohibiting
all the heretics therein named, Arians, Eunomians, Macedonians, and
Manichæans, from holding any kind of assembly, public or private,
either in the cities or in the country. Any ground or building used
for such illegal purpose was to be confiscated to the State; and
the penalty of banishment was pronounced against those who allowed
themselves to be ordained priests or bishops of the heretical sects.
Historians concur in the opinion that few of these penalties were
actually enforced. The heretical sects were not animated by a spirit
of martyrdom; the intimidation was generally sufficient.[275] The
hypocrite or the indifferent conformed, the more conscientious retired
into obscurity. There seem to have been few if any Arian prelates of
great and commanding ability. All the leading ecclesiastics of the
day—Chrysostom, Jerome, Basil, the two Gregories, and Ambrose—were by
conviction on the side of the Emperor, and added all the weight of
their influence to his decrees.
When measures had been taken for the suppression of heresy, it was the
Pagan’s turn to suffer. The spectacle of temples standing open for
worship side by side with Christian churches was a painful incongruity
in the eyes of Theodosius, with his soldier-like ideas of uniformity
and discipline. The first blow was directed against those disloyal sons
of the Church who had seceded to Paganism. They were deprived of the
power to make wills or to receive bequests.[276] The second step was
absolutely to prohibit all sacrifices in those temples which were still
open. Nearly twenty years before, the sacrifice of animals had been
forbidden by Valentinian and Valens, owing to their connection with
arts of divination, which were used for political purposes. As long
as such sacrifices were permitted, the priests could not refrain from
consulting the entrails of the victims, and pretending to read therein
future events: the death of this Emperor, the elevation of that, the
success or failure of expeditions, and the like, were intimated to
the people, always eager to know what is beyond the limits of human
knowledge. Such divinations encouraged a restless spirit in the
subjects, and often disaffected them towards the ruling power. That
these laws of Valentinian were renewed by Theodosius in 381, and again
in A.D. 385, proves that they had been imperfectly obeyed.[277]
They were followed up by a yet more decisive step in A.D. 392.
Cynegius, the Prætorian Prefect of the East, the Counts Jovinus and
Gaudentius in the West, were commissioned to shut up the temples, to
destroy their contents, images, and vessels, and to confiscate their
property. In many instances the executors of the edict, aided by the
fanatical fury of monks, seem to have exceeded their instructions.
The great temple of Jupiter, at Apamea, in Syria, of which the roof
was supported on sixty massive columns, fell, but not unavenged; for
the Bishop Marcellus, who headed the assailants, fell a victim to the
rage of the exasperated rustics who defended it.[278] The safety of
the universe was represented by Pagans to depend on the preservation
of the colossal gold and silver image of Serapis at Alexandria. Even
Christians beheld with some trepidation an audacious soldier deal a
blow with a battle-axe on the cheek of this awful deity; but as the
only result of the gash was the issue of a swarm of rats who had
harboured in the sacred head, instead of the avenging thunders which
had been expected, a revulsion of feeling was experienced. The huge
idol was hewn to pieces, the limbs were dragged through the streets,
and the remains of the carcase burned in the amphitheatre, amidst the
derision of the populace.
These were shattering blows to Paganism. But the religion of sentiment
and custom long survives the extinction of more solid if not reasonable
convictions. Chrysostom’s homily on New Year’s Day is only one among
many illustrations of the way in which Pagan rites and superstitions
lingered, especially in connection with public festivals. All the
Pagan concomitants of these festivals in the country districts—hymns,
libations, garlands, incense, lights—were strictly prohibited,
under heavy penalties, by Theodosius in A.D. 392, but, in the West
especially, the extirpation was very incomplete. The Bishops of Verona
and of Brescia protested, but in vain, against the proprietors of land
indulging their tenantry in these practices. Sicily, Corsica, and
Sardinia, were strongholds of Paganism as late as A.D. 600. Sacrifices
were offered to Apollo on Monte Casino till the establishment of St.
Benedict’s monastery in A.D. 529.
The riotous populace of towns, and the simple country folk attached
to old customs, thus evinced some spirit in their resistance to
repressive enactments. But the hold which Paganism retained upon
intellectual people was feeble indeed. Two apologists only, with any
pretensions to ability, stepped forward to plead for the sinking
cause: Symmachus[279] in the West, and Libanius in the East; and their
intercessions are addressed to sentiments of affection for antiquity,
and compassion for oppressed weakness, rather than to the reason.
Symmachus, as is well known, pleaded twice for the retention of the
altar and statue of Victory in the senate-house at Rome. Eloquent and
touching, his appeal is directed to patriotic feeling and a sense of
political expediency, not to religious conviction. He does not profess
to _believe_ in the Pagan deities, but regards with a philosophic eye
the various kinds of faith in the world as so many forms of homage to
the great unknown Being who presides over the universe. “It is right to
recognise that what all adore can be at bottom but one Being only. We
contemplate the same stars; the same sky covers us; the same universe
encloses us. What matters it by what reasonings each seeks the truth?
a single path cannot conduct us to the grand secret of nature. As an
individual, a man may be a worshipper of Mithras, or of Christ, but as
a citizen it is his duty to conform to that worship which is bound up
with the history and glory of his country; to part from it is heartless
and disloyal.”[280]
The memorial of Symmachus got into the hands of Ambrose, and was rather
rudely treated by him. He subjects it to a stern test of facts. Had
the national gods indeed protected the Romans from disaster? It was
maintained that by their aid the conquest of Italy by Hannibal had been
averted. Why then did they permit the invader to inflict such ravages
as he had done? Would not the Gauls also have captured the Capitol, but
for the timely cry of the goose? Where was Jupiter _then?_ but perhaps
he was speaking through the goose. The Carthaginians worshipped some
of the same deities as the Romans. If then the gods conquered with
the Romans they yielded with the Carthaginians. Paganism declined,
notwithstanding support; the Church flourished, in spite of opposition.
As to the abandonment of ancient customs, was not progress the law of
improvement? The glimmering dawn gradually brightened into the full and
perfect day; the riches of harvest and vintage came in the maturity
of the year; even so the faith of Christ had gradually planted itself
on the ruins of a worn-out creed, and was now reaping an abundant
harvest among all nations of the earth.[281] The whole reply of Ambrose
is pitched in the positive, confident, authoritative tone of one who
speaks from a conviction that he stands on the platform of absolute
truth, and that his cause is therefore inevitably destined to win.
If the appeal of Symmachus was addressed to the sentiment of reverence
for _national_ antiquity, that of Libanius was directed to a sentiment
of attachment to _classical_ antiquity. The citizen mourns over the
suppression of a worship which was bound up with the history and
the glory of his country; the scholar sighs over the degradation of
that which was connected with all that was most beautiful in the
literature and life of the olden time—with the poetry of Homer and
the tragedians—with the festive song and dance—with the hills, and
fountains, and groves of Greece. He clings to the past with the love of
the antiquarian. Though his actual belief in the myths of the classical
era may not have been very deep or earnest, there is no doubt that
he entertained a genuine animosity towards the new faith which was
usurping their place. A flowery description of the origin and antiquity
of the honour paid to the gods is followed by a vehement invective
against the monks, “those black-robed creatures, more voracious
than elephants, who rush upon the temples, armed with stones, wood,
and fire; who break up the roofs, destroy the walls, throw down the
statues, raze the altars.” They glaringly exceeded the edicts of the
Emperor, which had forbidden the offering of sacrifice in the temples,
but had not commanded the actual destruction of the buildings.[282]
There is real feeling also in his description of the distress caused
in country districts by the demolition of the temples. “They were the
centres round which human habitations and civilisation grew; in them
the labourer placed all his hopes; to them he commended his wife, his
children, his plantation, his crops. Deprived of the gods, from whom
he expected the rewards of toil, he felt as if henceforth his labours
would be vain. Sometimes the very land was wrested from them on the
pretext that it had been consecrated to gods; if the poor despoiled
owners sought redress from the pastor (_i.e._ the bishop) of the
neighbouring town (falsely called pastor, since there was no gentleness
in his nature), he praised the robber and dismissed the complainers.”
No doubt to a great extent this was a true picture, and such harshness
and injustice must have retarded (as always happens when an attempt is
made to coerce opinion) the cause of Christianity, which the law was
intended to promote.
Theodosius, however, was in principle far too upright to treat the
Church with a blind partiality. Cynegius, the Prefect, was ordered to
enforce the law at Alexandria with full rigour against those despicable
beings who sought to make traffic by informing against Pagans.
Constantine had exempted the clergy from serving in curial offices;
Theodosius compelled them to pay for substitutes, and renounce their
claims to patrimony. They were to enjoy immunity from torture when
brought to trial, but if detected in falsehood were to be visited with
penalties of peculiar severity, because they had abused the shelter of
the law which favoured them.[283]
Such was Theodosius—a prudent and skilful general, a firm and upright
ruler; a sincere and simple-minded believer in Christianity, who did
his best, as head at once of the army, the civil government, and
the Church, to consolidate the fabric of the Empire. The barbarians
were repelled, or held down; taxes were collected with honesty and
firmness,—some of the most burdensome were taken off; Paganism and
heresy languished, however far from being extinguished, and the Emperor
fondly hoped that uniformity in faith and discipline would soon be
established throughout Christendom.
The good genius of his life was the Empress Flacilla; she was a
Christian of a pure and noble type; imperial state had not corrupted
the simplicity or hardened the tenderness of her disposition. She was
accustomed to visit the hospitals in Constantinople, not attended by a
single slave or waiting-woman; administered food and medicine to the
patients, and dressed their wounds with her own hands. She was wont to
remind her husband of the great change in their worldly position, as a
motive to humility and gratitude to God. “It behoves thee to consider
what thou wert and what thou hast become; by constantly reflecting on
this thou wilt not be ungrateful to thy benefactor, but wilt guide the
kingdom which thou hast received with a due regard to law, and by so
doing wilt pay homage to Him who gave it thee.”
She, we may well believe, restrained the impulses of that choleric
temper which was the principal defect in the Emperor’s character, and
which occasionally after her death burst forth into acts of deplorable
violence. This wise and pious monitress was taken from him in A.D.
385. She died at a watering-place in Thrace, whither she had gone to
recover her health after the shock caused by the death of the infant
Princess Pulcheria. Her body was brought back to Constantinople on a
melancholy day in autumn, when the skies poured down a gentle rain, as
if mingling their tears with those of the disconsolate people.[284]
This condensed survey of the character and work of Theodosius, during
the first ten years of his reign, will assist us in forming a proper
estimate of his conduct in that memorable occurrence which brings his
life into contact with the life of Chrysostom.